Putridby HelloPussyChaptersIt CameIt SawIt CravedIt DreamtIt TookIt WeptIt BlewIt KnewIt CameThere was something very wrong. Pins and needles. She felt this tightness in her abdomen before bed last night—just wicked pain. Invasive, nasty, pain that persistently pressed against her intestines. Celestia was an early bird, often up before the sun due to habit now rather than duty, but midnight was too early to stir. She didn’t stir. She was violently ripped from her sleep and she’s been uncomfortable since. Up and down, inconsistent highs and lows. Pain strikes that never went below a 6, and her spine—her hips were made to take the brunt of it. Cruel. So very cruel, and still she wore a smile as she sat at the table with her sister. Celestia had mastered the poker face after centuries of adapting to stress, of being the chewed bubblegum that kept the card tower together. It was easy to appear so calm even in a state of panic, but she’d never hurt like this before. Not even before her ascension. It’s been getting worse. So very worse, and if something wasn’t done soon she swore she’d go into shock. “Please, if you would excuse me.” With all her years, and there were far too many, this pain she could not pinpoint. Was this it? Was morality catching up with her after forfeiting the crown? No, something was coming. She felt it moving in her barrel. This body was not her own. “Are you in distress, dearest sister?” Luna placed her bagel down. She held such a worried expression that Celestia couldn’t help but wear the mask. Another shot of pins caused her own magic to vanish, the tea cup it held fell on her serving of hash browns, and she was on her feet to prevent any questions. “Of..” She swallowed. Her legs were shaking so much. “Of course. I simply have some business to attend to.” Luna understood and nodded. “I should not be long.” And Celestia assured her with a smile as radiant as the rising sun. Another cramp. Another twist. Another pull. Celestia took her time leaving the kitchen table, but it wasn’t until she was certain she was out of sight did she gallop full speed for the bathroom. If she still served as princess this would not be a problem. The castle had frequent powder rooms, and staff to attend to her, or distract her guests, not that she needed either. The stomach pains were just so abnormal that she was certain she would be a while. The door shut behind her, a short sigh of relief, until she felt the drizzle. A puddle had formed beneath her hind hooves, drenching her fur in a peculiar odor. Nothing could warrant incontinence, nothing short of poor health, but Celestia knew her body well enough to know the signs beforehand. Her alicornhood made her less susceptible to most diseases. There was no bodily injuries in the past few months, no change in her usual schedule, and she only had tea for breakfast— It happened again. No longer did she drizzle, but a whole flood gushed out of her in such violent succession that it knocked the air out of her lungs and brought her to her knees. Her wings spread in reaction, ready to take flight, ready to flee. She could not, not in a bathroom, but she would attempt to drag herself to the toilet. Something was coming out. Had she been poisoned? The tea this morning was prepared by herself, she cooked all the food with her own hooves, she set the table without any help. Luna had not awakened yet. They had no housekeepers, no cooks, no staff, for in retirement the two sisters only wished to live as commoners. The leaves were mint, the tea was mint, and they came straight from their garden. But could it be that somepony somehow managed to tamper with it? No, the pain happened last night. Last night they had seafood on the boardwalk while overlooking the ocean. Did dinner not agree with her stomach? Was the seafood poisoned? Luna had two platefuls. “N-noo..” Celestia struggled to get the words out, struggled to get her magic to behave so she could warn her sister before it was too late. This agony she would not wish on her worst enemy, let alone her beloved. Another strike to her nervous system came and Celestia had given up on making it to the toilet. “Luna..” she tried, she tried so hard, but her body was not her own. It would not behave. Something was coming. Her abdomen constricted, her pelvic muscles worked on their own free will. She made no command to push, yet she did. So much pressure was on her stomach that she was certain her guts would come out. And she made the grave mistake of looking back, and though she was on her side and the cusp of her flank obscured her view, she saw the blood at the dock of her tail. Perhaps her guts were coming out. Perhaps this was the effect of the poison, but she knew she couldn’t be that naive. From where the pain originated, the blood wasn’t from her anus. So she raised her leg and craned her neck to peek between her thighs. In April the two sisters vacationed in Yakistan. They lived like the locals, they shopped like the locals, they ate like the locals and Yaks weighed twice as much as a pony so there was a lot of eating. On the flight home she noticed the extra pounds, the plumpness, the protruding belly. Luna laughed and said her metabolism needed time to catch up, and Celestia only agreed. She never lost the weight regardless of how much she tried, and eventually she stopped trying. Eventually she gave into her odd cravings believing it to be a phase—as princess she couldn’t have deep fried pickles and the greasiest fast food Equestria had to offer. Something moved beneath her skin, she felt this foreign thing kick against her insides, push her entrails in whatever direction made it comfortable. This thing was alive—a completely different vessel from her own. It made no sense. Surely she was poisoned. Surely that was the only explanation. Another contraction hit her. Contraction? No. Impossible. It’s impossible for this much mucus and blood to ooze out of her lower orifice with no signs of damage. It was impossible to witness her marehood dilate, wink, and spit out more sour fluids, before her very eyes. It was impossible for there to be movement in her uterus, for there to be a snout poking out like a bird’s beak beneath an egg. “What sorcery!?” Quickly, she tried to get back on her feet to prevent the inevitable, to attempt to comprehend the implausible. Her wings were flapping like mad, causing white feathers to rain down in the small bathroom. She was panicking, of course she was panicking. A potential invasion at the borders of the kingdom was something to mentally prepare for. Being in active labor was not—not when she was unaware of this, whatever this was. There was just a wet mess all around her, coming from her, but due to shock she was grateful for her muffled silence. With magic the cabinet doors swung open and towels were flung about. Perhaps, in her anxious state, she wanted to clean her mess, or find something to fix her fever because surely she was hallucinating from the poison, but instead she made the situation far worse. The towels knocked beauty products from the counter, shattered a lightbulb, caused a toilet brush to tumble and sprayed waste water on the walls. It was happening too quickly. It was coming. Celestia hadn’t realized her legs gave out from underneath her until she was in the bathtub with the shower curtain over her arched back and the rod caught between her horn and the porcelain wall—her horn impaled through said wall. There had to be a moment of unconsciousness since the shower head rained down on her coat, the tub was a fourth full. She was gurling on water, and if it weren’t for her equine anatomy, nostrils quite a way from the lips, she was sure she could’ve drowned. This alone was a shameful nightmare, but nothing would prepare her for the horrors of seeing the top half of a foal dangling from between her legs like a Hearth's Warming Eve ornament. This strange twitching alien was very much alive and very much real. So Celestia tried to make sense of this. The impact likely made it all come rushing out; she involuntarily pushed, she soiled her white fur pink, and half the thing came out. The pain came from the pressure, the stretching. She felt that thing, that alien, flair its nose, twitch as it took its first breath, kick out as if it had the desire to gallop away. She felt its long legs flex inside, excited to come out, excited to meet her. It was disgusting. “This…isn’t…” It wasn’t possible. Celestia had never mated in all her years of life. Not once had she found the one and not once had she considered it. Serving as Princess overshadowed any carnal desires, and with enough time they ceased to exist altogether. Luna and her little ponies were a sufficient enough family, and this ideology had carried over even in retirement. But Celestia was no fool. She was far too ancient to be. She knew how these things happened—she was no ridiculous filly, but virgins cannot have children. Now she was angry because the only explanation that she would accept was a magical one, and in those circumstances that thing she was birthing would therefore have to be magical too, which meant this could all very well be an illusion. A complete illusion and in no way natural, so was it a real foal? She was jumping through mental hoops, and it was all to distract from what she needed to do next; push with all her might. And she did. She pushed until she grew red in the face, and the rim of her vision darkened, then she’d take a break. She’d take two. Deep breaths, several deep breaths, then again. She’d push. The thing was stubborn. The second half of it should’ve been easy, but something was stuck, and now she wondered if whatever spell was cast on her had all the intentions of causing the most suffering possible. Well, there was a spell to elevate pain—but with a horn through the wall, magic was as good as useless. Celestia attempted to fix that. Her hind legs stood up, backed up to pull herself free, and that is when the thing slipped out of her. A loud splash hit the floor before it did, and despite the pain and despite the exhaustion, she turned around to see it for herself. Laying in the puddle of fluids was a tiny foal—long tail dock, plain, with huge floppy ears. It was no pony. No full pony. The shape of this little thing's head was too rigid despite being a filly. Its snout was too large, its fur, despite being slick and wet, was coarse. It had no horn, no wings. Its mane was a matted black, its coat was a coal grey. And she felt disgusted. More disgusted than if it were a colorful little thing with a horn and wings. She knew that this visceral feeling in her gut would perhaps be replaced with a mother’s love if this thing, be it magic or not, was a pony. It struggled in the soup of sick. New mucus had covered its snout, preventing it from breathing and therefore letting out a cry. She stood there, umbilical cord dangling from her hind legs, watching the creature fight for air. In those moments she felt nothing but disgust. “Tia? Do you need assistance?” A soft knock on the bathroom door pulled her cold gaze from the foal. It took a moment for her to register who that was, where she was, and what had happened. Celestia never felt so old. “I’m alright, Luna.” She called back only to reassure her sister—to reassure herself. Was she alright? It was hard to tell, but she definitely felt outside of her body, like her two eyes weren’t witnessing a creature squirm in birth juice, and a creature that came out of her. It wasn’t her in this room but somepony she watched through a crystal ball. What an awful mare, she thought. Do something before it dies, she thought too, yet Celestia didn’t move. She only watched. “Tia? Are you in the shower?” Was she? The shower was running, wasn’t it? Everything just went on autopilot then. “I’ll be out in a moment.” With the towels, Celestia scooped up the foal and wrapped her tightly. The goal was not to provide comfort but to hide the anomaly. It was thrown in the laundry basket along with more towels to cover it up. She shut the whicker lid with such little care. “I’ll be out in a moment!” It was repeated yet she didn’t realize. And with magic, the alicorn quickly got to restoring the bathroom in its rightful order. Shower off, the curtain up, the wall rebuilt in seconds. The puddles raised and swirled around her causing a twister of bodily fluids that all traveled towards the toilet bowl. The busted light bulb was unscrewed and thrown away—she didn't have the care to fix that. “I’ll be out in a moment.” The placenta came shortly afterwards with no pushing on her part. It slid out like a dead fish from a barrel. She didn’t even look at it, it was discarded with a quick teleport. If she was thinking she’d realize it would resurface through dragon fire. But Celestia wasn’t thinking, she was working on autopilot. The toilet was flushed, her legs were wiped down, and a soundproof spell was placed on the basket for safe measures. It would be handled later. Celestia struggled to stay upright. She needed to rest. She needed to forget about that thing that came out of her. The door opened and she wore a smile. Luna peeked over her shoulder, but she only found a squeaky clean bathroom. As far as she’ll know, nothing happened. “Was breakfast disagreeable?” “Tremendously, though I’m afraid whatever I ate last night was the culprit. I had to shower afterwards.” Her eyes smiled, her lips just the same, but it was all a part of the mask. “I might lay down for a bit. Can we reschedule our tennis game for this evening?” “Of course. You do look awfully drained, yet less bloated.” Luna chuckled as she playfully poked her side. “Ahh, yes. I hadn’t noticed I’ve been packing on the weight, but I likely lost twenty pounds in there.” The both of them shared a laugh. Celestia wiped a tear from her eye, but if only Luna knew it was one of sorrow. “Perhaps we should add a nice gallop along the beach to today’s schedule?” Celestia shut the lights off and closed the bathroom door without giving the thing a second glance. It SawThe sun stared at her from behind her lace curtains. She tried to hide from it, she tried to roll over in bed to ignore it, but its burning gaze somehow managed to penetrate the fat of her skull. Now the sun was the only thing Celestia thought about, and perhaps it only wanted to make sure she was okay, but she felt too embarrassed to face it. How pitiful she became. No longer was she all powerful, no, she was like any old mare, but she wasn’t any old mare. Her body was as cosmic as the stars. She was born for greatness—accomplished greatness, yet somehow, with all said greatness, she managed to get pregnant. It was magic. Yes, yes just magic, and she had quite the case ahead of her to find out who inflicted her with the parasite. There surely weren’t many wizards in Equestria with the ability to stealthily cast an incantation strong enough to penetrate her alicorn defenses and at a distance too, since Celestia would definitely know if it were close range. At least she’d like to think so. The sun would know. The sun was still staring. “Go away.” She whispered as she stared right back at the fleeting light. It couldn’t hear her. What was the sun but a floating gas ball trillions of miles away. It had no voice, no beating heart, no will to live. Huh. No will to live. Even a nasty little thing had one of those. Even a nasty little vermin that would dare to invade her body had a Will to survive, to carry on, to fight for life. It still struggled for air, probably. It still squirmed in a towel like an earth worm in the soil. Or maybe it died. It likely died with its snout all covered in mucus. There was no way that creature survived. There was just no way her thing—that thing was still alive. Had she forgotten to breathe? Celestia inhaled, took in such deep breath that her lungs inflated double their original size, and she rolled over again to face the window. She exhaled as she shut her eyes tightly. There was no baby. There was magic. How could she let this happen? How could she let her guard down to allow—no it wasn’t her fault. It was the fault of a blasphemous little pony who dared to go against their goddess. How dare they. How dare they violate her. How dare they have such boldness—such the gull to put—to come out of her as if she couldn’t rain down the wraith of a burning sun on their miserable little existence. Once she got her hooves on whoever was responsible, she would not hold back. Oh, she would let them know why one doesn’t mess with a sun goddess, even if there’s blood to pay. “Knock, knock.” A gentle voice murmured as it unintentionally calmed her rage. Celestia hadn’t realized the temperature in the room had soared until Luna turned the metal door knob and yelped in pain. “Ow!” She flapped her hoof like a penguin attempting flight. “Did you intend to prank me, dearest sister?” Prank? “Ahh, no.” A goddess had no time for that. “I believe it is simply my fever’s doing.” Celestia didn’t break a sweat, but it was less due to her heat resistance and more to do with the stiffness in her muscles. Yet she felt so tender between her legs, specifically her teets that now decided to turn the faucet on and pour milk everywhere. Disgusting. Celestia brought her blanket up to her chin and buried herself in more pillows. “I apologize for this evening. I hate to cancel on you, Luna, but I’m not well.” She was from it, but her sickness went beyond physical. The sun was setting quickly, and as the moon mare trotted closer towards the bed, a cool shadow followed tightly behind. In her magic was parchment and quills. She wore reading glasses on her midnight snout, and she tied her mane up above her head into a messy bun. This was Work Luna. Super Focused Luna. It was a pleasant thing to witness, but shocking that she would be so willing to break her flow just to chat with her sister. “Please, don’t apologize. Your wellness takes prominence over all else.” Sigh blue magic, the covers were lifted and Luna scooted into the bed next to Celestia with a smile. The paper and quill rested right in front of her hooves. The feather brushed Celestia’s snout. “Shall I summon a doctor? I’m certain they’ll be able to—“ “No.” It was nearly yelled, yet Celestia caught her tone. “No doctors.” She knew what was wrong just like she could pinpoint every nerve, blood vessel, and cell in her body. Who needed a bunch of white coats to point out her fatigue was due to the strenuous task of pushing life from her body—be it magical or not—because she did not. Beyond that, the last thing she wanted was for anyone to find out she somehow, someway, was impregna like any old mare. Like she wasn’t capable of rising the moon and the sun all with her own magic. Like she didn’t rule for millennia. Like she wasn’t a— “Sister?” The room was heating up again. Luna held up her charred paper to prove it. “Are you certain? You are awfully hot.” She placed a hoof to her forehead only to pull away just like with the door knob. “Yes, this doesn’t seem normal.” What does she know? She’s been on the moon longer than the two have been together. They were strangers more than sisters—so estranged that Luna couldn’t even tell the fat was abnormal. “Luna, please. I know what is best for my body, and it does not require a doctor.” More milk was oozing down her leg, bubbling, coming to a boil, than solidifying in the rising temperature. She grabbed another pillow. “We overindulged on seafood, and now I’m paying the price, but I can assure you come morning I’ll be just fine.” Through the rims of her glasses, her younger sister studied her—and how dare she. She looked for signs of deceit as if Celestia was just any old pony, like she had the right to. Why this angered her, Celestia did not know. And Luna asked. “Are you certain?” And the wallpaper was peeling from the walls, burning black at the edges, slowly crumbling to char. “I’m very certain.” To drop the subject, and get a hold of her emotions, Celestia picked up one of the parchment and read it over. “How is your foal’s book coming along? I see you made it to chapter 3.” As the room cooled so did Luna’s nerves. “Yes, I have been working diligently this past hour, and I have managed to tame the beast that is writer’s block by returning to my roots.” A bit of her empyrean mane got in her face. Luna made a poor attempt to tuck it into her bun. “My time away was filled with daydreams, storytelling, an imagination I didn’t know I held.” A small smile faded on her lips. “Of course, I only had an audience of two; myself and the moon beneath me. It wasn’t as nerve wrecking then.” Celestia didn’t hear her. There were many doodles on the sides of the parchment. A particular rabbit on a crescent moon caught her eye, and she’s been watching as if it could come to life and hop off the page. She didn’t find it particularly offensive—not the moon, but definitely the rabbit. Why was it so fat? What was Luna trying to say? “What an interesting interruption of a rodent.” Luna tilted her head in confusion. “Rodent?” And she too tried to see what her sister was referring to. The rabbit was the only doodle. “That is Bin Bun, the protector of Buntopia; a civilization on the surface of the moon.” Luna looked at the drawing fondly. “I know I haven’t discussed my book in detail with you sister, but she is a major part of it. I just hope foals—young creatures all across the world will love her.” Her voice dimmed. “I know I did when I was all alone, but I really saw them sometimes, Tia.” Again, her sister’s words went unheard. Celestia couldn’t peel her eyes from the rabbit. It was smiling despite having such a bloated stomach. How could any being look so happy with such a condition? “Why is it fat?” She asked coldly as if the drawing was just insulting her whole being. What a fat, unless rabbit. Luna’s ears fell in embarrassment. “Well, uh, I suppose that was simply my art style, but upon second look it does appear quite ridiculous.” She took the paper from Celestia’s magic and immediately tucked it away. Despite her dark coat, a burning red appeared on her flustered face. “I’ll design something better.” With the rabbit gone, whatever self imposed mental spell Celestia found herself in was broken. It was then that she realized the gravity of her comment, and how much it hurt, and perhaps it wasn’t intentional. Perhaps she didn’t know. It was far too easy to get lost in her head, and now she wondered if this feeling was genuine stress. Since the return of Nightmare Moon, Celestia had experienced more stress in those five years following than all her years of ruling, so she’d know that familiar feeling. Whatever she was currently experiencing was something entirely different. “No, Luna, I didn’t mean it like that. In fact, I find your creation gorgeous, not to mention you have improved tremendously since the last time I’ve seen a drawing of yours.” A warm hoof was placed on the younger mare’s back. Luna lit up as bright as a full moon. “Oh, that’s because it has been centuries.” She giggled, covered her mouth with her fetlock, and drew closer to her sister to soak up more of her sunlight. “Do you sincerely like it? Please don’t hold back for my sake.” With a smile like Luna’s, how could Celestia ever feel disjointed? It would all work out like it always does. There was no reason to stress because there was no baby, magical or not. There was no illness, no dripping milk, no lies either. There was just Celestia and her little Luna. “Of course I do.” She pulled her in for a tight hug. Their cheeks squished together like marshmallows between graham crackers. “I suppose I was thinking aloud and, well, not thinking at all. Rabbits are supposed to be that big.” But an ambrosial body is not. She was leaking milk everywhere—she was no longer thinking about it. “Upon second thought, I think I am in the mood for that jog.” Celestia sat up to look more lively. “Are you certain? You did say you weren’t feeling—“ The blankets were ripped off of her while Celestia leaped out of bed with long sturdy legs. She pranced around her room to prove she was peachy keen. Her tail flew behind her, her tail whipped against the sun on her flank, and she’d pose in such a way to hide the dripping milk. Luckily, she was blessed with a coat that could conceal its color from a distance. “Would I, Princess Celestia, really be afflicted with illness?” It was a rhetorical question said with such hubris that one would assume she was joking. Celestia wasn’t sure if she was or not, so she continued before Luna could respond. “My body is a self healing temple, and it’s all better now, so go on and get ready! We have a beach to trample on!” She held her horn high and spread her wings like a peacock showcasing his features. It likely wasn’t fooling Luna, but this pep talk wasn’t for her sister. It was for herself. “Alright, dearest sister. We can trample on the beach, as you put it.” Luna giggled again, and Celestia fought to keep her smile. It CravedAuthor's Note New chapter, who dis? Wow that just took me a year to write. Hahah! Anyway, major warning for the next chapter as it will involve verbal and physical abuse of an infant. It Craved They had been out for a while watching a group of ponies rollerblade and blast interesting foreign music on a boombox. Their blades had colorful feathers that left a trail in their wake, and when they’d flip on their heads, the feathers would make shapes under the hanging lanterns. Luna had been eyeing a pair of skates for a while, but the pony selling them wasn’t a pony at all, but a three headed dog who stood upright. He sucked on a pipe with one mouth, spoke to a rollerblader with another, and had his third set of eyes on the rusty wheel he oiled. Those paws of his got between crevices of the skates, his paws masterful at rubbing, and squeezing, and getting deep— “I’m not much of a Doberman kind of mare,” Luna laughed as she elbowed her hypnotized sister. “What do you mean?” “You’re drooling on yourself, Tia.” Luna stood up to continue down the boardwalk. “Seems you’re infected with a bad case of Puppy Love.” That would’ve been an odd comment to make, but Celestia realized she had been drooling all over herself. With rosy cheeks, she trotted after Luna who had her head raised towards the rising moon. A chilly breeze blew from the salty ocean, a fishy smell, but one masked by the several dozen vendors lined along the boardwalk, and scented sunscreen on lounging backs, and fruit punch in the water guns that two unicorn colts shot at bikini clad mares on the beach below. “I don’t like dogs, Lulu. I’m more of a pussy lover.” Celestia clopped a bit ahead to catch a glimpse of her sister’s expression. Luna gave her a look as if she weren’t the one who made that awful dog pun, but regardless she played dumb. “Pussy cats make for a suitable pet, I’m sure. Plenty of ponies have them.” “And play with them too…” Celestia couldn’t contain her chuckle. With a pulsating vein in her forehead, Luna rolled her eyes. “Classy,” she whispered before halting to turn in another direction. “How are you feeling now?” Luna gave her glance over her shoulder. How was she feeling? Celestia’s tail swayed back and forth, no longer a cloud but strands of hair that bounced with each step, and as it swayed it did a good job of hiding her swollen teats and their leaking milk. No one would dare peek between her legs, forget that it was a very rude thing to do, but being a former monarch added an extra layer to it. But regardless, she leaked, and her body ached, and her mind was a fog. Would she ever express any of her concerns to Luna? Of course not. “I feel like a bowl of sunshine.” On the northern beachfront, a few foreign street performers were harassing the lazing tourists with their fire breathing acts, and their small dancing monkeys, and their exotic attire from a land far away. It caught Luna’s attention as her wings spread and she reared up on the barriers of the boardwalk to get a better look below. “Tia! Would you look at that!” Luna pointed. “I’ve never seen a pony with such a long neck.” The ringleader of the cardboard circus had brown spots speckled around their body, a colorful cloak on their shoulders, and a set of two stumped horns on their head. The monkeys swung around the beast’s towering neck like firemen on a pole, and they clashed cymbals, and sang in a language unknown to any pony. “That’s no pony, Luna. That’s a giraffe.” “A giraffe?!” “Yes, and a quite short one it seems. I’ve toured the zebrian continent numerous times, ran into a fair amount of them, and these creatures can grow as tall as a three story building.” Celestia joined her on the boardwalk’s barrier. “Very fascinating,” Luna noted with a smile. “I’d love to go someday.” “Perhaps we can try for the end of this summer, otherwise the temperatures will be too hot.” Luna giggled. “That’s never been a problem for you.” “Oh, I absolutely loved it! But I know how you can get in such intense heat.” To drop the subject, as travel had increasingly become the last thing Celestia wanted to talk about, she clicked her golden horse shoes on the metal grate she stood over. Wind blew against her underbelly. There was a tightness in her breasts. “On second thought, I’m not up for that beach trample. I feel a day over a century.” Luna kept her eyes on the giraffe, and Celestia did too. “You’re far older than that. Time is catching up to you, Tia.” With all the lanterns above them, it made it difficult to see the giraffes' features—not that celestia could tell much of a difference between one and another. She wondered if a pony could successfully mate with one, and now her eyes wandered between its legs, spotting the set of balls that swung behind his thin tail. A foal with such a long neck would kill her coming out— “I think they are serving free margaritas at the Sunset Resort for the single ladies tonight.” With a teasing wink, Luna elbowed her side. “And I know you can’t resist a free drink.” “Mmmm, I’d love Sex on the Beach right about now.” Biting her lower lip, Celestia kept her eyes on the sweating swinging balls. The giraffe had noticed her staring, even turned the whole of his long neck in her direction, and immediately her face burned with embarrassment. “Let’s just go.” Celestia hopped down and started her power trot as far away from the beach as possible. “I return for order, yes?” With a bone stiff bow tie and a gelled black mane, the donkey took a bow after he placed their glasses of water on the table. Most resorts running along the northern coast tended to hire immigrants for the cheaper wages and longer work hours they could squeeze out of them. It was hardly a thing to complain about, except they often knew very little Equestrian and thus were difficult to understand. This particular waiter, despite his thick accent, could at least get his point across without much trouble. “Yes, thank you.” Luna smiled, but this waiter didn’t look at her. Though his head faced the floor, his hazel gaze was directed towards Celestia. The gawking would typically go unnoticed, considering ponies still saw her as a monarch despite her retirement, but the jackass dared to trail his gaze up to the sun stuck to her flank and said gaze stayed there for quite a while. Instead of growing justifiably upset, Celestia’s frazzled mind told her to open her legs a little to see how he’d react, and he stared where she assumed he would. He stared long enough to catch what she was doing, perhaps teasing him, perhaps in his mind it was an invitation, and by then they made eye contact. Celestia broke away towards the dark waves rolling on the opposite end of their window. He kept staring. “Do you need anything else?” Luna questioned with a tilted head. “N-no, miss madam. Please take time to decide.” With another nervous bow, he scampered off like a runt on the street. Celestia could only watch him with disgust, and yet her loins burned with curiosity. Curiosity? That couldn’t be right. Her hormones were all out of control, and she was leaking all over herself, and she was more aroused than she’d ever been. “That was odd.” “Quite.” Celestia tapped her foot. And Luna peeked under their table to make sense of the thudding. “Do you find it’s pretty chilly in here too?” Her eyes darted at the many ceiling fans hanging in the establishment. With her magic, she froze the closest three above them. “There. That should do it.” Proud of herself, Luna took her time flipping through the menu. A wide selection of hard ciders sat on display, including an apple berry punch that absolutely screamed her name, but only the margaritas were free. Who knew Luna loved a bargain, because she absolutely did. “Are you going to get your usual serving of wine-dipped cheese pickles?” With a crescent smile, Luna looked up from her menu, perhaps stewing on whether to get what her wallet needed or what her belly craved. “I still don’t know how you stomach it.” “I haven’t a clue how I stomached it either. Never again.” With soiled laundry in her mind Celestia took a sip of her water. “I don’t think I’ll be drinking tonight.” She had plenty of alcohol already, in fact she’d been drinking heavily the past few weeks—it was all part of her relaxation routine to soothe the cramps. As if that thing she birthed didn’t already have enough problems. “That’s understandable considering you aren’t feeling well.” Luna chewed on her lip as her magic reached for her own glass. She placed the menu down. “Perhaps I shouldn’t drink either.” Celestia shook her head. “Please don’t allow me to ruin your fun.” “You aren’t, Tia. Besides, I really wanted this berry cider for $22, but now we can save the bits.” Luna took a pause to drink a good quarter of her water. Refreshed, she sighed when her lips departed from the rim of her glass. “What is the zebrian continent like? Beyond the three story tall giraffes?” “Golden plains stretched as far as the eyes can see, crystal blue skies, lush treetops even taller than me.” The voice came from behind Luna. It startled both sisters and caused them to search for its owner, but it didn’t take long before they found the source. With lanky legs, the caped giraffe craned his long neck down to meet their gaze. “It’s beautiful, and do not get me started on the many cultures that reside within. We Prey live in harmony within several cities across the continent. It’s quite the melting pot.” Luna scooted closer in her seat of pillows. “Prey? Such a degrading term to refer to yourselves.” “We hardly see it that way. If anything, Predator is far worse, but I suppose they aren’t much of a threat in this country.” He took a seat if only to relieve some stress on his neck. “I am Gilaffy, a traveling businessman, and your future tour guide.“ Celestia scoffed. “Do businessmen often wear capes where you’re from?” “Try pinstripe suits, but they tend to clash with my spots.” Though a bit shy, Luna chuckled, “what flavor of business are you in? You mentioned tourism.” And her laugh only encouraged his jokes further. “Oh no, dear goddess.” With a head shake and a wink, he leaned in closer. “It’s monkey business.” Opening his cape, two macaques ran out in pinstripe suits. They held a banana to their ear and screamed into it as if holding a conversation on a telephone. Luna couldn’t contain her mirth, throwing her head back, and cackling like a wicked witch. It was hardly that funny, yet Celestia found herself smiling. The monkeys did a chronographed dance, spun on their fury heads, and with their strange little fingers, threw up confetti into the air. Then, out of his cape, Gilaffy handed his henchmen a banner to present to Celestia. It read, ‘Congratulations on Your New Bundle of Joy!’ Luna no longer laughed. “I don’t understand the joke.” Celestia didn’t either, in fact, she couldn’t react. She simply sat there like a doe at an oncoming stampede. The pressure in her breasts returned and her body burned with sweat. “Oh.” Realizing his mistake, Gilaffy gathered his monkeys back into his cape where they disappeared as if never there at all. “My apologies, I made a misguided assumption like an absolute fool.” And he was more embarrassed than Celestia. Immediately, Gilaffy stood up. “I’ll see my way out. Enjoy your dinner—“ But with her magic, Celestia grabbed his foreleg, she needingly squeezed it. “No, uh, you may stay.” Despite her magic, she could feel how sturdy his legs were despite appearing as if a light gust could snap them in two. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder how long another part of his body was, how’d it fit inside her womb, and it definitely left her confused considering her lack of interest in such things before. Like a wild teenage filly during her first cycle, her body craved exploration, it craved penetration, it craved a baby—a baby she had already delivered just hours prior, but a baby her body missed. Something was definitely wrong with her. And he was picking up her neediness from the way she lifted her tail, and spread her legs, and damn near pissed on herself right there. Their eyes met, her eyes drifted lower. She could see the head of his cock poking from his sleeve— “Celestia!” With a hard kick under the table, Luna harshly whispered, and there returned that disappointed expression from earlier. “I’m sorry, Gilaffy, but we’re going to head home.” Using her magic to place her napkin on the table, Luna stood up and gave him a not-so-polite glare that screamed ‘go away’. He nodded, respectfully bowed, but kept his gaze on Celestia as Luna pulled her away from the table. “Good night, ladies.” They hadn’t made it out the door yet when Celestia broke down into tears. “Oh my stars, Luna! I’m so so sorry!” When she was released she shoved her head in the corner of the restaurant’s front entrance. Passing patrons and staff only gave them a glance, but none dared to approach the two alicorns. All knew better than to get mixed in the affairs of a retired monarch. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I just embarrassed you! What was I thinking!?” “Tia, it’s okay.” Luna rubbed her back, but lowered her voice in hopes Celestia would follow suit. As she got closer, she noticed the moisture dripping from between her sister’s legs, and the irritation around her unusual hanging nipples. “I think I understand what is happening to you.” “You do?” Celestia sniffed but refused to turn around due to shame. “You know what happened to me?” “Yes, I know that your body isn’t used to its sudden mortality, and therefore your hormones are off-balanced as it attempts to steady itself.” She hugged her in order to get closer to her ear. “I started lactating too shortly after my return from the moon. It was a terrifying experience, but one trip to the gynecologist was all I needed to get fixed.” “Fixed!?” “Not like a dog, Tia. I mean medication to help balance your hormones,” Luna giggled. “It will also prevent you from soliciting, and trust me, a stallion will take advantage of your taxed state of mind especially if he believes he can get away with it. I’ve seen it plenty of times during my Dreamwalking, and unfortunately far too many mares are suffering in silence because of this biological error.” Luna never did care for sex and sexuality, but in more recent years she had developed a clear hatred for it—more specifically, a male's part in the devil’s tango, so it was no surprise that when she mentioned her Dreamwalking, her snout wrinkled in disgust. Celestia never thought much about mating, but now she questioned if she should feel the same way, or just give into her biological urges—urges she’d never experienced before in all her years of life. Perhaps it was an error, as Luna claimed. “We can go tomorrow morning, though I wouldn’t bother with the hospitals here. They don’t have specialists. Are you good to fly to Baltimare?” “No, I’m not good to fly at all.” Celestia rather not see a doctor at all. “I’ll send for a taxi.“ “You know, my garden has so many wonderful, magical flora, I’m sure we could find something of use. I mean, there just has to be an old earth pony remedy that would work just as good as any medication, plus it would save us the trip—“ Celestia cut herself off. Across from the host's podium stood their donkey waiter simply staring at them within earshot. When he noticed she spotted him, he pretended to be occupied with bussing a nearby table. Luna turned around to see what Celestia saw. The two silently watched, well aware that he’d been eavesdropping. Still, he kept up the act, but cleared his throat and offered a weak smile. “Leaving, miss madams?” “Um…Yes, and we thank you for your kind service thus far.” Reaching for her coin purse, Luna placed ten bits on the table. “Many thank you. Many thank you.” Again he scampered away, but not before giving Celestia a knowing glance over his shoulder. It DreamtAuthor's Note Okay, so I lied. The previous content warning is for the next chapter, not this one. It Dreamt At the crack of midnight, as she laid her head on her sister’s lap, Luna gently brushed her wet mane. They shared a bath that night, as they often did, and not once had her sister paid the hamper any mind. It hadn’t moved, and with the spell, it made no sound. It was dark in that basket, the bathroom cold, and with no milk the thing should’ve starved. As Luna rubbed her back, Celestia couldn’t take her eyes off it. Her mind wondered what Luna would do if she pulled the baby from the hamper like a white rabbit from a top hat. Would she be as disgusted as Celestia felt every time she saw its large floppy ears and its dull face. There was no way she would believe Celestia created such an ugly thing— And yet, she longed to feed it, and hold it, and store it somewhere more safe. Oh, her sweet baby, a baby she did not want, but as she laid in bed being held with love, her heart ached for the hatred she felt towards a creature that was half of her. “Do not cry, my love,” Luna hummed, and she sang a song from a time long forgotten. It only brought more tears to Celestia’s eyes, and for a brief moment, she felt like a filly again. What a time to be alive, and to imagine she’d make it this far after all the violence, and hatred, and— “Millennia of harmony.” Luna brushed the fur on her snout. “I don’t think a better pony could’ve ruled for so long. You should be proud of yourself, sister.” Celestia raised her head. “Are you reading my thoughts?” The brush settled on the bed while Luna gathered up her sister’s colorful mane and twirled it into a messy bun. “You’re half asleep. I couldn’t help it.” Two bobby pins were stabbed in her hairdo. And Celestia’s heart skipped a beat. “What else did you see?” The hamper flashed in her mind, and though it had ties to thoughts of motherhood, she refused to directly think of her baby. With such fear in her eyes Luna couldn’t help but grow concerned. “I barely peeked,” she dared to get closer to meet Celestia’s avoidant gaze. “Your brows were so furrowed I figured I’d see why, but I understand if I crossed a boundary.” “You did, Luna,” she sobbed, yet she had no idea why she sobbed. Perhaps out of fear, perhaps shame. “Please don’t do that again.” Luna laid down, her frosty eyes blinking in suspicion. “As you wish, but only if you tell me what has you so spooked.” But her sister shook her head. “You know I would never judge you.” Luna placed a hoof on her cheek. “I only want what’s best, so tell me what’s wrong.” Celestia’s tears dried right up. She couldn’t be easily deceived, not with all her experience, but Luna was her weakness especially after she returned from her long stay on the moon.“What if it involved a stallion?” “A stallion? As in you murdered one?” And the way her brow raised in hopeful anticipation let Celestia know that Luna would, in fact, judge her if she mentioned anything short of a touchless brunch with a nameless male. “I, uh…” Celestia dropped her gaze. “Have you ever wondered about motherhood?” “Changing the subject, Tia.” Luna shook her head. “Or maybe it’s very relevant to this very subject.” The minute Celestia said that was the minute she felt more rejected than she had ever in her life. And Luna had never looked at her with such disbelief in all her life, and maybe it was all in her head, but Celestia was convinced she saw contempt—a stronger contempt than the cold gaze of Nightmare Moon. “Are you pregnant?” Luna didn’t need an answer, she had already come to her own conclusion. “Of course, but when would you have found the time?” Her mind raced for even more conclusions, and hypotheses, and theories that she would take to heart regardless of what Celestia told her. “When I go out to sip wine and paint, do you sneak stallions in here?! In our house?!” Her expression contorted into a grimace. “What? No, of course not. I attend such outings with you—all outings.” Celestia felt like a brothel whore. She covered her reddening face. “I don’t know why I mentioned any of this. It’s not true, it’s just the hormones, as you said.” It was far too late to backtrack. “Did you have relations with Captain Clash when we returned from our ski trip? Is he the father?” “Who?” Celestia had to make a great effort to even recall that pegasus’ face. How many ex soldiers accompanied them on their many travels? Far too many to count, but both sisters tended to ditch their bodyguards the second they reached their desired destinations. Captain Clash had to be the maroon stallion pulling that particular chariot on that particular day if only because he was the sole pegasus who held the rank. There were about four guards accompanying him, all of which were male, and some of which were younger with better stamina. If put in a life or death situation and forced to pick one, Captain Clash wouldn’t be first choice. “What makes you think I had anything to do with him?” “When we arrived at the Hot Spring, and when I came out of the bathroom, why did I find you two alone together?” Luna cut her eyes to spot any signs of deception. “I’m not doing this, Luna—“ “So it’s true!” She jumped out of their shared bed to trot around the room with high steps, pacing as if to solicit a challenge. “Oh, I just knew it even back then!” “You weren’t gone for five minutes. How quick do you think a stallion can be?” “You’d be surprised, especially when we’re talking about a pegasus.” And she huffed at that, upset as if Celestia had personally betrayed her by being so-called intimate with this male. “You’re supposed to be pure.” Celestia rolled her eyes. “You don’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, do you?” For a moment they both said nothing—one all tensed up, and the other remorseful towards an act she had no part in. Then, after some time, Luna slumped, and she swayed her head. With a snort, she got back into the bed, and she grabbed both sides of Celestia’s face with her hooves. “Please, just give me the whole truth and nothing short of it.” Luna caught her eyes, and as she stared, Celestia felt the hypnosis her sister was attempting to lul her into. The second she fell asleep Luna would have free rein to explore whatever concerns sat heavy in her mind though her dreams. Such forceful magic wasn’t a thing Luna practiced often, if at all. Right now, she expelled all of her strength to break through Celestia’s mental defenses. “Stop, Luna!” The sun goddess shrieked as she violently yanked her head back, but Luna had an ironclad grip on her skull. Her horn glowed, but Celestia decided against using magic on her own little sister, so instead, they wrestled on the bed. Celestia thrashed about, and Luna used more magic to tame the beast, and yet there was an unsaid knowledge between them that Celestia wouldn’t retaliate. Luna took full advantage, laying on top of her, pinning her down with her body, and forcing her into sleep. Soon the sun goddess fell, and only after her body went limp, did Luna let her go to join her in the land of slumber. Run. It was the only thing on her little mind. Run and don’t look back. She went as fast as her legs could take her, and her legs burned, and they were so sore, but she didn’t stop running. She couldn’t stop running. The halls were as long as the spine of a serpent. And on this snake’s back were multiple dead ends, and dead starts, and dead in betweens that running seemed pointless, but running was all she could do. And this maze of chaos wasn’t new. He liked to dangle her freedom from a string. It was no fun if things were impossible, if she felt too hopeless, and Celestia was all too aware of this fact too. “Oh, where! Oh, where! Oh, where are you?!~” his singsong voice echoed throughout the catacombs. It shook the walls. It made the ground beneath her tremble, but she couldn’t stop pushing forward, especially when a light burned at the end of this tunnel. Yet his shadow surpassed her, it had a mind of its own, and his shadow pointed and laughed on her left. It taunted her, just evil with an exposed tongue. She kicked it, it shattered like glass, and Celestia then galloped harder. “Oww! Now that wasn’t very nice!~” The exit was a yard away. A large red sign sprouted from the checkerboard tile. It pointed at the white light as if to mock her, and then was when she noticed the steel cage awaiting her instead of a way out. Celestia made a sharp turn, her hooves struggled not to skid. The shadow reappeared behind her, but it went the opposite way, seeming to miss her altogether. With a heavy heart, she allowed her tears to fall. She’d never be free, the games would never stop no matter how much she tried. If only her wings were large enough to lift her body off the ground, if only she could fly away— The tile split beneath her small hooves as the long coiling body of her captor shoved through the narrow tunnels, crumbling the walls, and collapsing the ceiling behind him. She hated when he took a more dragonic form as it hurt more when he did bad things compared to when he took his sillier shape. This one, the ‘hydra’, scared her far more than the one he titled ‘devil’. “There you are, my sweet filly,” the creature hissed a pleasurable moan. “Don’t run, you know how much I crave the chase! I only want to play!~” The voice of many puked from his twisted head. From a deep baritone to a mouse’s squeak, they all blended into mayhem, a chaotic serenade sang just for her. Celestia made the mistake of looking back, and when she did, she saw his large jaws burst through an archway to her right. His mismatched front legs dragged his large serpentine body at a speed she could not out pace. Stone collapsed from the ceiling in front of her. When Celestia staggered to a clumsy stop, the hall started to spin. It went round and round like the innards of a typhoon, and her hooves were no longer on solid ground, but she was floating in midair. In the mists of this storm, she saw the hydra at the bottom of the pit, just misshapen and contorted into knots. “Round n’ round the little mare went. Pop! Goes the weasel. With eyes so wide she couldn’t be spent. Pop! Goes the weasel~” a tune began to play but where the source came from was unclear. His mouth never moved, this voice was unfamiliar, just one out of his many. “You run, and cry, but dry your eyes! Pop! Goes the weasel—!” “No, my lord! Please, no more!” She screamed, hoping that her show of reverence would encourage him to go away. It did the opposite, as this reality sat upside down, and a god of disorder did not have to oblige by any rules nor logic. “Pity. You interrupted the rhythm.” Celestia could do nothing but stare into the light emitted from the monster’s agaped mouth. Razor teeth and a slit tongue both waved her forward, but she knew he had no intentions of eating her. No, he was a different sort of predator, so what he wanted was far worse. “In we go, dear~” his eyes smiled as he cooed gleefully. “Right where you belong.” Not a sound left her. Not a peep as her body was forced closer and closer towards his jaws. The thought to run sat prevalent in her young mind—the thought to run was the only thing on her mind. Her body did not move. She could only stare into the light. “Tia,” a voice called out, very close. It was just above her. It was soft. It was Luna. “Tia, I finished with your mane. Thought I’d give you a fish tail to go with your tan.” Celestia opened her eyes. A pair of sunglasses were lifted from her face with a cloud of dark magic. She could better see the underside of her sister’s chin, and the solar eclipse that covered one third of the starry sky. A sea of still water sat beneath them, a mirror to gaze into, a mirror to submerge themselves in, yet they laid on top of the surface as if the water was simply silk sheets. “Luna,” Celestia cried with a trembling bottom lip. “Luna, why would you do that to me?” “I didn’t think that would happen.” In a poof of magic, a handheld mirror materialized out of thin air. The night alicorn aimed it at Celestia’s mane to give her a chance to look. Luna leaned down and kissed her at the top of the head, avoiding her large horn in the process. “What do you think?” Celestia didn’t care about her hairdo, so she pushed the mirror away, and she repeated herself more clearly. “How could you force me to remember that?” She covered her face from the gaze of the sun and moon. “Because,” Luna’s voice lacked an ounce of emotion. “Because I needed you to remember why males are bad for you, Tia. You don’t need to open yourself to them. You can get plenty of affection from me without having to worry about doing all that awful stuff to your body.” “I don’t know. I don’t even know what happened to me.” A calming wave tumbled over their laying bodies, washing their hooves in cold water. “I don’t know, Luna.” “Where is the baby?” And the emotionlessness in Luna’s voice graduated to something tender, something soft. But Celestia wouldn’t be fooled that easily and reveal such a damning secret like the birth of her mule. “I don’t have a baby.” “The body never lies.” Another wave washed over them. “It keeps score of every scar, every cell, every life it creates. It told me everything I needed to know, so where is it?” Celestia didn’t want to tell her, she didn’t even want to think about it. “She’s dead, Luna.” The waves grew larger, more hectic as dark clouds formed beneath the lunar eclipse. And as the winds blew, and as the sea rocked with unforgiving rage, Celestia shut her eyes in the hopes of waking up. “My baby is dead.” It TookAuthor's Note Major content warning ahead for abuse of an infant. It Took In the dark she stared at the hamper. Luna claimed they had a busy day ahead of them: a fly to Baltimare to get her fixed in the morning, lunch with Cadance and Flurry Heart at noon, and then a show they’ll catch when they return home in the evening. Quite a busy day with no time to herself. Now was Celestia’s time to herself. After waking from their shared dream, her little sister made no effort to stop her from leaving the room, in fact, it felt as if she wanted her to go. How embarrassed she felt towards the current situation she found herself in, but there was no changing the past. All Celestia could hope to manage was finding out exactly what was done to her and who was responsible. Such a task shouldn’t be too difficult for a goddess. But perhaps a small part of her didn’t want to know the details. Perhaps she found comfort in her ignorance, since as long as she didn’t know she wouldn’t have to act once the truth was revealed. Would a side of her that was long buried since the time of war and grief resurface and would she handle this situation as cruelly as she could manage? Or would she break down like last night, like when she were a foal trapped for an unknown amount of time by a wicked god of lunacy? Maybe she’d react in a way she couldn’t predict, maybe she wouldn’t be upset but curious to know how a stallion managed to inseminate her without her knowledge—and how she couldn’t possibly have known she was pregnant the whole for months. Celestia very gently shut the bathroom door—a room saturated with perfumes, incense and air fresheners hours beforehand. The clashing fragrances were so strong that she couldn’t smell the fur below her nostrils. But that was good. It meant the smell of birth was suffocated from the atmosphere and therefore Luna would remain none the wiser. As she stepped forward, there lacked urgency in her movements, instead she took her time approaching the hamper. Curiously, she released her spells as she listened for a cry. Silence. Celestia tilted her head while she slowly lifted the lid. Where to store the body?—that was the first thing to come to mind. Could she just teleport it away to become another creature’s problem? Should she cast it in the ocean and hope a group of crustaceans grew fat from its carcass? That might be the best course of action, and if it’s body happened to wash up on shore she was certain some immigrant would be blamed. With her magic, she lifted the newborn by a single limb from the towel it was haphazardly wrapped in. What she expected was a dead dangling baby, what she found was a living thing mindlessly straining its small eyes to make out the world it newly found itself in. Though it hung upside down, it didn’t cry, which couldn’t be typical for a foal, even one as ugly and as dull as this one. Celestia laid down on her side, slightly lifted her hind leg, and brought its head towards her nipples. She couldn’t figure out why she didn’t just disregard it back in the hamper, or better yet, the crab infested ocean even if it was still alive. It wasn’t like she wanted to keep the thing—not at all. What would she look like strolling around with the ugliest foal in the land dragging behind her? “Eat, damnit,” the former princess growled as it refused to latch onto her teets, instead mindlessly staring at them like it lacked a functioning brain. With magic, she parted its lips and pushed its snout against the leaking milk. It did not latch on. Perhaps it was dead and the staring had been a result of simple muscle spasms. When she dropped it on the floor, its legs didn’t move, and its chest barely expanded. What was the point? In a few moments it would pass on, and that was for the best— Celestia began licking the creature clean, and during this tongue bath she realized it had urinated all over itself in the basket. Such a revelation should’ve caused her to stop in absolute disgust, but she kept licking to stimulate the parasite, moving purely on instinct. And with her warm snout, she pushed the foal closer towards her body, sharing her heat, and melting the thing from its stupor. It wasn’t long before its head moved in search of food, and once it did she guided it towards the source. With luck, it finally clung on and wolfishly drank its first meal. Celestia stopped licking to observe. The more milk it sucked from her teets, the more relieved she felt like bursting a troublesome pimple or draining her bladder. And the tiny sounds it made as it pawed on her stomach to worm closer to its meal, as it shut its eyes to rest—it sent odd pleasant tingles up her spine. For a moment she didn’t feel so disgusted at the appearance of it, for a moment she gladly welcomed the suckling. Her body no longer burned in defiance as it was given the baby it was promised—this wouldn’t last, it couldn’t seeing as she wanted nothing to do with it. So Celestia would not keep such a despicable parasite who dared to worm its way in her body, but if the feeding quenched her for the time being, she’d continue to do so until she was fixed. The sun had long resurfaced in the sky by the time Celestia woke up on the bathroom floor. The beast had a runny bowel movement sometime in the night that had smeared all over her beautiful white coat painting it an off-green. Disgusted that it would ever do such a thing after she allowed it to feast on her, Celestia stood up. “You dirty vermin!” It was lifted in the air by its foot, and with magic, she harshly tapped on its rump a few times as punishment. The beast shook, startled, but it still made no sound. “You must be broken.” She grabbed its big ears next, twisted it in an unnatural direction, and that did it. The parasite made a sound, just a small gasp like a fish out of water, but still no wail. It was flipped around while Celestia searched for a power source. Perhaps it was a robot after all, a voodoo doll, or a living spell—an illusion. But like a robot, this thing would need a constant supply of magic to keep up the facade—and illusions had no bodily functions. No, the foal was alive, flesh and blood, which left Celestia with one of two options. Both options technically were the same thing; she was impregnated magically via artificial insemination likely caused by a sort of teleportation of some lowlife wizard’s spermatozoa—something she thought of beforehand—or she was impregnated “naturally” via a forced mating. In other words, raped in her sleep. Either way, the foal still had her DNA, and his DNA, even if she didn’t know the father. And said father was undoubtedly a— “Just ugly, and broken, and who knows what sort of creature you are! You’re no pony!” In her fit of rage, she used its dull body to clean its shit off her coat before it was thrown back in the dark hamper. The basket swiveled on its axis then rocked to a stop. Celestia backed away to keep her eyes on the little demon, huffing with a dying fury, but soon she calmed herself. Pausing with raised ears that listened for any disturbances in the home, Celestia waited. It appeared Luna had not yet risen despite the day’s busy schedule. Either way, the lid of the hammer was once again opened as Celestia approached to take a peek inside. Like a sad useless little thing, the parasite squirmed over the pile of dirty laundry. It’s left hind leg was bent out of place, yet it still made no more than a pathetic gasp. Celestia picked it up again, adjusted its limb, and felt around for any broken bones. Its cartilage felt as flexible as curling rods and there didn’t appear be a break anywhere. “If you don’t speak how will I ever know you’re in distress?” She asked it as if it spitefully muted itself to get under her skin. “Cry already,” her voice came out more desperate than she intended. Her useless parasite remained silent. To avoid another spike of frustration, she hovered it towards the bathtub, turned on the faucet, and stepped inside as the water gathered around them. Slowly she lowered the thing in the tub and watched as the bath grew higher and higher and its body floated above it. It gasped again, its small eyes opening to make out the new sounds and sensations. Celestia grabbed a bar of soap and a rag to scrub the shit from its dull coat. Dried afterbirth and blood had tangled itself in hard to reach spots; behind the foal's ears, between its hindquarters, in the cusps of its short neck—all thoroughly removed. She cleaned the parasite on its back using magic to steady its body and keep it afloat. It wasn’t long before its fur was soft and sudsy. “You’re so quiet.” Regardless of how gentle or how rough Celestis handled it, it still remained silent, only granting her a brief reaction. A mouse’s sigh, a voiceless call. She brought its chest up to her ear, and despite feeling its rapid heartbeat, she didn’t hear it. “I casted the spell on you and not that basket,” Celestia concluded before swiftly removing her magic from the foal’s vocal cords. Again, she brought its chest to her ear, and this time she could hear its heartbeat, but it still did not cry. Oddly, a strong feeling of grief overwhelmed her. Celestia cared not for this parasite, yet she wanted it to behave like a normal foal perhaps in fear that if it were broken then it would reflect badly on her. So she dunked its body under the water to initially wash the soap off, but as it did not struggle while submerged, she considered holding it down there to put it out of its misery. To rid herself of this broken problem. But as bubbles surfaced from its snout, and as it looked at her from below the water, Celestia noticed that it shared her eyes—and it had a soft golden glow around its pupils. An ugly plain mule would never have magic, not like a unicorn, and definitely not like her; a goddess. But maybe what she saw was her own reflection in the gaze of this thing she birthed. Quickly, Celestia pulled it up from the bath, laid it on its stomach in a gentle cloud of magic, and rubbed its back to encourage it to spit up water. Luna hadn’t been asleep soundly in her room, she left sometime early that morning without saying a word to Celestia. A note didn’t remain, a scroll wasn’t sent, not even a telephone call. Maybe she was out doing the day’s tasks without her. Maybe she decided against getting Celestis fixed. Perhaps it was for the best since now she laid in the living room overlooking the view of crashing waves, and sunscreen-covered tourists, as the parasite buried itself between her hind legs to drink. “You’re a greedy pest, aren’t you?” She hadn’t meant to coo, but found that her voice would soften whenever talking to it. “You’ll be plump before I know it.” With such little effort on its part, it began to slip, losing its grip on her teets, and slumping onto the side of the couch like a fallen banner. Celestia rolled onto her back as if in the middle of a dust bath, and with her magic she lifted her parasite right back onto her stomach. She found great pleasure observing it hound about for its food source, sniffing at the drying milk mangled in her underbelly’s fur, and attempting to feed from it. Celestia laughed. Using her magic, she squeezed her breasts to see if more milk geysered out, and if it could find its way to food like the greedy pig that it was. This little science experiment found some success. Her parasite did, in fact, sniff out the food as it stretched its neck out as far as it could reach, and as it opened its mouth for a desperate suckle. Unlike the foals of old—foals who were able to get up and gallop only hours after birth, the ones of today were completely reliant on their mothers for quite a while. If Celestia decided to leave it there on the couch and never return, it couldn’t travel on its own to find food, to flee danger, to live. It’d die shortly afterwards. The parasite squirmed, and it tried to drag itself to the milk just out of reach, but it simply hadn’t the strength to do so. “You’ll need to try harder if you wish to eat,” she teased, and Celestia watched as her vermin gasped, struggled, and stretched its neck the most it could manage, but it could not get to its meal. Perhaps in her mind she figured that through enough frustration the little mule would finally cry out for her help, but a minute had passed, and then another, and instead of wailing for her it simply gave up. Frozen and hardly breathing like early that morning when she picked it out of the hamper, it rested its head against her stomach, defeated. One thing was for certain, it lacked an ass’ stubborn determination. How uneventful, is what she thought. How lazy and so uninspired. Half of her wanted to tap its rump again as punishment for not trying harder, but she figured a meal cut short was punishment enough. Using magic to lift it by the dock of its tail, Celestia rolled over on her large davenport to stretch her long legs. “Where should I hide you? Back in that basket? In the ottoman near the fireplace? Or maybe in the trash can in the kitchen.” That wasn’t a bad idea. In the trash is where she should put it, yet she found she couldn’t do that. Maybe the trash was too harsh. “No, I know where to put you.” Celestia sat up and climbed off the couch and towards a closet in the front hallway with the parasite magically at tow. When she reached her destination, she swung the doors open to retrieve— A knock on the front door interrupted her search. Celestia’s ears stood at attention along with her wings as she listened for who that could be. Luna would simply let herself in, and they weren’t expecting visitors. The memory of where she sent her placenta crossed her mind. Twilight could be waiting to ask her very serious questions after she surely traumatized her poor dragon. They knocked again, not harshly like an officer, but it was very light. Light as if to conceal a secret. She saw their silhouette through the small lace curtain over the door’s decorative window. Slowly, the parasite was lowered out of potential view as the last thing needed was a stranger asking questions, so underneath her barrel was where the vermin hid. “Hello?” Celestia cracked the door open just enough to see who stood on their welcome mat, but not enough for them to see beyond her head. Her sights landed on butter squash fur speckled with cocoa brown. “Gilaffy?” “Princess,” the bull bowed, his eyes on her, her eyes on him. There contact was intense, passionate even. She could smell his musk and knew his exact desires for her. “Are you here alone?” Having freshly nursed, and with a foal beneath her, Celestia found his unsaid advances unappealing. Last night she’d gladly lift her tail for him, but right now? “Uh, well, I am…” she should’ve lied, but a large part of her felt confident in her ability to defend herself if he got to handsy. She was a goddess after all, and what was he but a simple, magicless, giraffe. “Good.” Gilaffy slightly raised his long sturdy neck. “May I come in?” It WeptAuthor's Note Merry Christmas! And another major content warning for this chapter. It Wept The tray of tea sat on the marble coffee table, his cup untouched, hers perched to her lips as she sipped eagerly in order to avoid daunting eye contact. They’d been sitting in silence for the past five minutes. Celestia had nothing to say, and he only seemed interested in gawking at her heavenly glory. After a while she needed to fill in the dead air lest she get lost in counting every spot on his body. “So do you have family waiting for you back home?” Celestia peeled her lips from the rim of her mug. “A wife and calf perhaps?” Through her many travels she knew how certain males of his caliber behaved. A family here, a family there, and neither any the wiser. How any creature could be so content in creating multiple broken homes was beyond her. Gilaffy chuckled. “No, princess,” he finally grabbed his cup to catch a taste of the chamomile. “I journeyed here alone at 15.” “15? That’s fairly young. Did your parents not accompany you?” As she rested with her rump facing away from him, and surrounded by far too many pillows than were necessary, she used her magic to adjust the throw flung over her foam. Hidden beneath it was the parasite still seeking to drink her dry even in its deep sleep. In this instance she allowed it to rest peacefully at her expense since her guest was still none the wiser of this problem that attached itself to her life. “Unfortunately, my parents had passed a long time ago.” His gaze fell. Celestia lowered her tone to pay respects, “I’m sorry for your loss.” It’s been millennia since she was a foal. At this stage in her life she couldn’t recall if she ever had a biological mother or if she was simply birthed from the sun itself. At this stage, it mattered none. She had transcended the life cycle of a normal mortal. “That is alright. If anything it inspired me to be there for the family I’ll one day create.” He drank the tea and kept his eyes on her. On their faux leather loveseat, his front legs crossed as he laid like a panther in the bush. They were fortunate to have such high ceilings, and such large windows to brighten their tropical home, so Gilaffy had plenty of room. He could stretch out his neck and reach her from all the way on the opposite couch. “The sun truly shines on you, princess, no matter the time of day.” With a growing smile, his gaze wandered. “In my village you and your land were described as such a magical place. I’ve been here for a few years now and it’s everything I could’ve ever imagined,” he sipped again. “You are everything I imagined.” Celestia never could turn down a compliment, but she didn’t like the way he gawked at her—not in reverence, not at all. Rather as a fanboy meeting his favorite pinup model for the first time. Regardless, she was far too polite to address her discomfort. “I appreciate your kind words, Gilaffy, and Equestria is honored to have you migrate to our great nation.” Celestia placed her own cup down with her magic. They fell into a moment of silence, the breeze from the open window being the sole thing to fill the white noise. Still, he continued to stare at her. Now Celestia had her eyes everywhere but on him. What to say, she thought. What to possibly do to distract from this awkward situation? Perhaps it was time for him to go? Then the parasite stirred under the blanket as its lips slipped from its meal. With such a rude awakening, it's dull little body tried to reattach itself to her teets with no luck. Gilaffy watched the strange movements with a tilted head. “We have a cat,” Celestia lied. By the expression on his face he appeared to believe her, until the parasite chose then—of all times, to make its first sound. And what a voice it had on it. With one loud wail, it cried for more food as if it hadn’t been eating all day. Gilaffy blinked. Celestia nervously cleared her throat, “my apologies—“ “So my assumptions were correct,” he stood up from his seat to get a little closer toward her. “You do have a foal.” As he sniffed around her blanket, Celestia oddly found herself feeling uneasy, cautious toward him, and following his every step. The closer he got, the more she felt instinctively compelled to nip at him—which is exactly what she did when he poked his snout beneath the throw. Her teeth got him on the ear. Just one sharp bite as a warning. Gilaffy backed up and not out of surprise or fear. Of course it hurt and he understood this nonverbal communication completely. But the more the foal cried, the more he was drawn back in. “She’s beautiful,” he circled around the couch for another opening. “But I was not expecting a mule.” This appeared to please him. Perhaps in his mind he was given confirmation that Celestia was curious about males of a differing species—not that a donkey was as far removed from a pony as a giraffe. “Are you still mated?” Celestia dragged the parasite from under the blanket as she adjusted herself to rest on all four legs. She brought the wailing problem directly below her chin, and not as a way to soothe it, but rather to make distance between it and him. Not that it mattered since he too followed the thing to where she attempted to conceal it. “I’m not mated, no…and I don’t want to be.” Celestia could stab him in the eye with her horn by how close he hovered above her. It wouldn’t take much to end him even without magic, but Celestia found this little interaction between them intriguing. She was giving clear signs of disinterest, yet he kept pushing, perhaps believing that the more he persisted, the more he pretended to acknowledge her parasite, she would eventually become receptive. That wouldn’t happen, but Celestia would gladly welcome the entertainment. She whipped her tail against the sun on her flank to coax his attention on it. Gilaffy found more interest in the foal buried under her resting chin. “I have a good strategy to silence her,” he whispered as he blew hot air in Celestia’s pulled back mane through his nostrils. “May I show a demonstration?” “Not if said strategy involves killing it.” She was all too aware of what a horny male was capable of if he desired to mate with the mother, and though such infanticide was rare in Equestria, there was no accounting for the customs in his country. But Gilaffy laughed instead. “Such a cute filly? Of course not! I only wish to make her feel good.” “How so?” Celestia lifted her head and that was all the in he needed. Using his snout, he unraveled the screaming parasite’s legs to lick its torso with his dark long tongue. It wormed up to its little ears, tickling the inside, and causing Celestia to giggle at the sight of such a strange muscle. “How peculiar,” she lifted a bit higher to give me more room to work his magic. Not that her parasite was grateful for it seeing as it continued to bawl. So his tongue traveled downward towards her soft feathery hooves. He blew on each which caused the thing’s little eyes to expand as it shook—startled by this new sensation. It paused its cry for just a moment to soak in this discovery, logged it in its memory bank for future reference, then continued to rattle the glass case on the coffee table with its reddening face. “She’s quite expressive for being so young,” Gilaffy licked his lips. Celestia had enough of it and its demands. “Its already spoiled rotten! I have no idea where this sickening behavior came from.” He looked at her as if they weren’t both speaking the same language. “She’s behaving as expected,” and he raised a curious eyebrow at the former princess. “To me at least. Babies cry, it’s what they do.” Not wanting to come across as psychopathic, or perhaps realizing just how ridiculous she sounded, Celestia stopped glaring at the parasite to offer him a soft smile. “Yes, of course.” A reasonable creature might’ve backed off by now, but Gilaffy—sensing Celestia’s distance from her foal, doubled down. He returned to licking it, only his tongue wandered, and soon it found itself nestled between the hindquarters of the filly. He discreetly pressed his lips against her vagina, paused, and waited to gauge Celestia’s reaction. Whatever new assumptions he made about her had seemingly been found correct as Celestia made no move to stop him. In fact, she didn’t move at all. So he kissed between its legs again, this time allowing his rough tongue to slip between the foal’s folds. This got it to cease crying altogether as it once again attempted to understand the new sensations. So he kept going, getting more bold with each passing second, until he was fully performing oral on the newborn. And Celestia laid there and watched it happen. She noticed his erect penis glisten between his legs. This act was turning him on more than any of her unsaid advances—which made him an odd individual—a predator even. No pony should feel compelled to wolfishly suck on the privates of a foal as he did at that moment. Yet Celestia was close enough to feel the sweat drip from his long neck, to feel the muscles moving beneath as he drank the moisture from her parasite, and still she made no effort to stop him. It wasn’t malicious. In those moments Celestia wasn’t thinking about the worst way to punish the parasite, she was simply thinking of nothing at all, caught in a stupor. Maybe so shocked that he’d do something so horrendous that it left her paralyzed. Maybe her brain simply shut itself off so she wouldn’t have to deal with it. This went on for several more minutes. In the silence of the room his slurping echoed in her ears. She watched the parasite’s face to gauge how it felt, to understand why it would stop crying. Was his tongue pleasant for it? Did it hurt? Did it feel like nothing at all? Its face wouldn’t tell, but there was a sadness in its eyes that even Celestia knew no foal that young should harbor. He came on their decorative jute rug, staining the beige material in clumps of white. Gasping, Gilaffy plucked his lips from the foal’s vagina, satisfied with what he had done. It didn’t cry again, not for milk, not for comfort, not for Celestia—its mother. “There we go.” He licked the excess from around his snout. “I calmed her right down just like I said I would.” Gilaffy felt proud of himself as if he truly did her a favor, and one she would have to repay. “I’m always willing to do it again, princess, if she gives you too much trouble.” In her automation, she bid him farewell, she gathered the tea tray, she cleaned the parasite in the kitchen sink. In her automation, it was simply, it used no brain function. In her automation, her trance, she did not have to think about what had just happened. The parasite’s fur had parted around its genitals, the skin underneath visible, and a large hickey consumed the circumference of her vagina. The image of it broke her from her automation. Celestia realized the extent of what Gilaffy had done, what she stood back and allowed to transpire. All her reign she had been an advocate for her littlest ponies. How could she have let that happen? Her hooves shook then, they shook so badly, shook like they wanted to free themselves of this wicked vessel they found themselves glued to. “No, that’s not right,” Celestia rejected such a notion that she was evil for what had happened since she didn’t know he would’ve done that, and she didn’t encourage it, she didn’t put her lips on the parasite—it was all Gilaffy! “You are barely a few days old. You’ll never remember this,” and though she spoke to it, those words were for herself. It would never remember it. This wouldn’t affect it—not at all. Using a rag and warm water, she scrubbed the sticky lines of his spit from its fur. It tangled itself in the parasite’s dull fur making it dirty in more ways than one. The rag only brushed the hickey but that was enough to startle the thing before it cried at the top of its lungs. “Quiet won’t you!” Celestia snapped, but the mule kept going with flailing limbs. “First you don’t speak but now you won’t shut up? Are you trying to torture me!?” It cried some more. She huffed, frustrated, upset. So very mad at herself, at it, and at Gilaffy for putting her in this position. With magic, the parasite was made to sit upright like a dog as she wiped its back down to its tail. Peeking below the base of its dock, she noticed the bruising around the anus, and realized he’d licked her there too. Though, the scene looked far worse than the hickey left on its budding marehood. Celestia lifted it out of the water to properly inspect the area. There was no doubt in her mind that Gilaffy inserted his sandpaper tongue inside it, but why didn’t she notice this? She was laying right there, right in front of it all. Celestia attempted to clean the injured as gently as she could manage. Gentle wasn’t gentle enough as the parasite’s wail transformed into one of deep distress which triggered an intense sense of panic within her. “You’re in pain?” It was more of an observation than a question. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” In her panic she started to cry as well, just overwhelmed with her own guilt and uncertain of what to do and how to fix it. This shouldn’t be a hard problem to solve. Celestia served as Princess for over two thousand years, and during that time she had judged multiple cases with similar circumstances. On the throne she was wise, confident, but in her retirement Celestia felt like a whole different pony. While still holding power, the stress of keeping her nation together would be motivation enough for her to make a just decision. But now? “Are you hungry?” Celestia bawled along with the foal, and the more it called on its mother to make the pain go away, the more the temperature raised. “Come, eat, eat.” She laid down and lifted her leg to give the foal access, but as she magically brought it toward her breasts, it found more interest in straining its vocal cords than leaching from her. “You don’t think I know how you feel? You don’t think I’m trying to make it go away?!” The kitchen got so hot the water in the sink began to boil and the kettle on the stovetop screeched. “I know! I’m sorry! Just please calm down,” she was begging the parasite at this point. What did it expect her to do? Just zap the bad feelings away— She could, in fact, zap the bad feelings away. Encasing the parasite in a cool soothing bubble, Celestia casted a spell to drain the hurt from its body by silencing its pain receptors. She couldn’t simply heal the damage on and around its genitalia as any magically mended injury must be transferred somewhere else, and seeing as she was the only pony nearby she would inevitably inherit the wounds. Selfishly, scornfully, that wasn’t a sacrifice Celestia was willing to make. “There you go. That feels better, doesn’t it?” The bubble gently rocked back and forth as the parasite calmed down in its relief. Resting on its stomach, the sound of her voice, and the exhaustion that came with wailing with all its might, put it straight to sleep. “That’s it. Rest now.” Celestia’s own tears subsided. Her mind no longer ached for her to tend to this parasite, and so as she relaxed the kitchen cooled down from her solar fire. But no amount of soothing would excuse the mistake she made that day. How stupid, how useless, and hateful could she be to— “I’m sorry. I'm so so sorry.” While staring into the bubble at a creature so small, so helpless, she wondered how she could’ve ever allowed Gilaffy to harm it. It BlewAuthor's Note Happy Valentine’s Day! To celebrate, here is Celestia going supernova. It Blew The longing she endured could snatch the breath from her lungs. Alone, again, and after their long awaited reunion. Days had passed, yet Luna still hadn’t returned home. The thought that her sister, under her grief for Celestia’s innocence, had abandoned her for good—She couldn’t take it this time, not while her mind had already begun to crack. They were soulmates, a yin and yang, quite literally day and night. Before there was Equestria, before there were ponies who could tell the stars apart from the flames that ravaged the land, there were the Two Sisters bounded by the cosmos. When Luna was away on the moon Celestia could still feel her beating heart. Through their shared magic she could hold her close to comfort her, and when she changed day into night, Luna’s presence became even stronger. So she tried hard to dream that night in hopes of her dearest sister passing by. Luna never came. By the time Twilight raised the sun, Celestia still found herself alone with no one but her own thoughts and a wicked little parasite leeching from her. “I hate you,” she growled at it, tugging it by the root of its scalp to punish it for daring to nurse from her. “I hate you!” She’d scream as it wailed back when she hit it for no reason in particular. Hadn’t it realized she made for a bad host? Hadn’t it realized it was better off slithering to a mare who’d actually want to keep it. Yet, when she’d calm down and when her body would demand relief from the curse it placed on her, she’d allow the thing to feed. She’d allow it to squirm closer towards her, its tormentor, in search of comfort and heat. And she’d allow it to sleep as long as it stayed quiet. Another day passed, and still no word from her sister. By day four, Celestia hadn’t left the house once as she’d spent her time fast asleep in hopes that the more she dreamt, the higher the chance of Luna visiting. She begged for her sister’s attention, craved it more than she craved anything else, but everytime she felt Luna’s presence, the parasite would interfere with its awful cry. Celestia would wake up, piping mad, and she’d shake it. “Shut up!” She’d screech in its face until it stopped. Then she’d drop it back on the bed, roll over, and return to sleep. Maybe Luna knew what she had done, maybe she bore witness to it in the perverse memories of Gilaffy, and surely she saw Celestia there, watching as if turned to stone. Those were nightmares she’d have, plagued by that memory, forced to relive it. Except now Luna stood by staring at her with such sorrow. “I’m sorry,” Luna turned her head as she refused to look at her. The parasite woke her out of yet another restless sleep. Celestia rolled over to find its face as red as its privates after they were scrubbed clean from giraffe spit. It was covered in its own sweat and urine and its breathing was labored, more than usual. She touched it’s sunken stomach with her hoof, only to feel the intense heat brewing beneath its patchy rough fur. She could see its ribcage, a parasite barely fed enough to stay alive, and as tiny as a standard teddy bear. That was unusual for a pony foal, but the parasite was an ugly mule. “What!?” Celestia barked at it, her mane frazzled, her gaze wild from anger. “What do you want from me!? What do you possibly want me to do!?” She picked the parasite up by its large ears only to have it weakly wail even harder. With how desperately it flailed about, it was clear this was a creature begging for its life—to be fed, to be nurtured, to have its pain go away. “All you do is eat! All you ever do is eat!” She hadn’t fed it in several hours, perhaps even yesterday morning, or late night the day prior? Celestia couldn’t recall. “Shut your mouth and I’ll feed you.” Despite its young mind, it closed its trap only to stare at her as if it thought she were crazy. They both stared at each other, her heaving with brewing rage, the parasite quivering as if she were a griffin intent on eating it alive. Celestia pinched its ears. It gasped only to flail with its red wet face, screaming for a benevolent god to hear its pleas of mercy. Its prayers had been answered via a knock on the front door. Celestia was broken from her angry trance to gaze towards the hallway. Entering a new trance altogether, she dropped the parasite on the bed and carefully stepped over as her mind thought of nothing beyond answering that door. Luna had returned, a thought claimed. Yes, that sounded about right. But Celestia knew her sister’s presence, their magic magnetic, and this pull was nothing at all like Luna’s. Celestia paused her trot a foot from the door. Suddenly she was made all too aware of herself and her surroundings. She heard the parasites cry, heard the puddle of water that formed in the kitchen, and saw the silhouette beyond the drawn curtains over the door’s window. “Twilight,” her lips felt dry. “Twilight why were you casting a spell on me?” “Please, Princess, open the door.” Her magic seeped through the walls like the running faucet in the kitchen. A pony wouldn’t see it, but Celestia could regardless if Twilight made her horn sparkle or not. It oozed out of her, such an effect usually being reserved for ancient artifacts that would turn a creature mad just by brief contact, yet Twilight controlled it as well as a pegasus controlled the direction of their flight. Celestia took a few steps back. Twilight quickly withdrew her magic. “We missed you at brunch a few days ago. I wanted to discuss it with you.” Celestia slowly spread her wings with all intentions of grabbing the parasite and making an— “Don’t…princess…I want to tell you about Luna and where she’s been.” Those were the magic words. Celestia dashed forward, but only poked her head through the door. Standing on their welcome mat with a warm smile, Twilight stood alone. “No army?” She asked as her eyes searched the trees for guards waiting to receive the command to act. Twilight shook her head, her mane free of its crown. “May I come in?” She waited, as polite as a vampire when he’d make such a request. The sound of the parasite’s desperate wails penetrated the darkness of the home behind Celestia, yet, oddly, Twilight gave no reaction. “No.” Quickly Celestia stepped onto the porch and shut the door behind her. “Okay.” Twilight nodded, and wasn’t she just so pleasant despite the circumstances. She even kept her warm smile as if this whole situation was normal when they both knew that was far from the case. “Sorry, but the place is a mess.” Celestia kept her ears perked, curious of any sound that stood out. She only heard the twitter of birds and the distant cacophony of maracas and steel drums—typical for the location. “I understand—“ “Do you wanna sit in the garden instead?” Before Twilight could properly formulate a response, Celestia trotted down their cobble path to go around towards the backyard. “Uh, sure.” Twilight trotted after her with a lessening smile. “Though I don’t mind a little mess. You and I both know how disorganized I can get at times.” “No, no, no, I just couldn’t bear to have you see that side of me, but we have a gorgeous view in the garden,” using her magic, Celestia tugged on the gate’s latch. “As I’m sure you’ll see.” And she held it open to allow Twilight access inside their white picket fence. Just at the edge of their yard, nestled between two looming palms, was a pathway that led to a private beach. From their seat at the glass table they could see the rolling tides, distant islands, and sparkling seashells buried in pink sand. Twilight ogled with amazement. “You’re right, Princess. This beats a sea of rooftops and the hustle and bustle of Canterlot any day.” Celestia nodded as she placed a single hoof on the table to better adjust herself in the lounge chair she found herself in. Twilight sat in the seat opposite to her with a discreet watchfulness that easily could’ve gone over a pony's head, but Celestia noticed it all. She noticed the slight jitter in her joints, the pounding of her heart, and her brows that fought to stay arched. She noticed the mask on Twilight’s face, and the faux friendliness, the faux ignorance to the parasite’s cry. Oh, Celestia knew she heard it. They were a kind game at this point. After a short moment of silence, Twilight conjured a glass of lemonade for the both of them as if she were the home’s host, and not a guest. “I’ve been experimenting with different fruity flavors lately. I’d love for you to try some.” “Do you have anything stronger?” Celestia only stared at her glass as Twilight lifted the pitcher to pour into her cup. There was a slight bubble to the drink that shouldn’t be typical for regular lemonade. “Stronger? Like sweeter?” What a ridiculous question. “Like liquor.” Twilight stopped pouring, though her smile remained. “We missed you at lunch a few days ago,” and paused as if to build anticipation, as if to prepare herself for the upcoming conversation. “I know I already said that,” Twilight whispered to herself while she took a sip of her drink. Celestia didn’t touch hers. Twilight noticed. “Luna said you were unwell.” “Luna was there without me?” Had she really abandoned Celestia without even a goodbye? The image of Luna’s sorrowful gaze burned its way to the front of her mind. “No, she wouldn’t do that to me. She knows how much it hurts.” “Your mane is all tangled.” Twilight appeared saddened at the state of her. Celestia sat up. “My mane?” And through the reflection in the glass table she could see what Twilight was referring to. Her mane was a rats nest, just disarray in a way she hadn’t needed to worry about when it flowed like living water. Quickly, Celestia attempted to brush out the lint and knots and style it into something more presentable. “My apologies, your majesty, I just woke up.” Twilight never liked it when she referred to her as such. “It’s half past noon.” “I had a long night.” “You…staying up late?” Twilight wasn’t buying it. Celestia was an early bird, of course she was! She had spent decades—centuries!—waking up before the sun. A habit like that would be difficult to break just out of the blue. But of course, Twilight already knew something was off. Such a busy mare wouldn’t just pop by on an average Thursday afternoon to simply catch up, even if Twilight believed Celestia was under the weather. There was no overt panic there, no cartload of medical journals for Twilight to painstakingly read through in hopes of finding a cure, no army of doctors accompanying her. One could argue Twilight’s obsession with Celestia had dulled since she was crowned princess, maybe her paranoia and need to fix mistakes went along with it, but Celestia didn’t believe that. Twilight was far too calm—no, playing calm. She was on edge, but for a different reason. “I made a mistake.” Celestia answered the question Twilight was surely thinking, why? If only Celestia knew how much Twilight knew, then she could weasel her way out, or at least give a proper apology. Standing up, Twilight motioned towards the beach. “Shall we take a walk? I find I spend way too much time on my flank as is.” She giggled, likely to break down Celestia’s defenses, but she was on to her. “Sure.” Celestia slowly got up as she cut her eyes at her lifelong student. What angle was Twilight coming at? What did she have planned? Just cut to the chase already, she wanted to demand, but that would only make her look more guilty. The two trotted along the beach in silence for a while. Incoming waves washed away pink sand, it polished the fine silver of Twilight’s footwear, and caused Celestia’s white fur to stick to her trimmed hooves. Here their footsteps were silent. Only the ocean’s roar would have its say, and it had quite the compelling call. Come and wash away your sorrows, it promised, drown your worries in my depths. Maybe that’s what Celestia wanted, to drown. “No,” Twilight shook her head as if she had a right to read her thoughts. “You’re so confused right now, but your pain is—“ “I seem to remember you being my pupil and not my parent. Why the sudden shift, your majesty?” She could’ve spat the last two words out like a bitter taste. There were tourists miles down on the beach, too far to make out details for earth pony’s gaze, definitely too far to see beyond a sequence of colors for a unicorn, but just at the right distance to see every towel, every glass of pina colada, every bottle of sunscreen. The perfect pegasus’ distance as they were born farsighted, an ability that gave an advantage in the sky. Twilight shielded her eyes from the sun when she looked over at Celestia. “Luna told me what happened.” “What happened?” Using magic, Celestia twirled her mane into a bun that sat at the very top of her head. “She told me about the baby.” Twilight stopped to gauge her companion’s reaction. They made eye contact, and though she really wanted to look away, Celestia was locked in a cobra’s gaze. She hadn’t meant for things to get so out of hoof. “Stop casting spells on me.” “I haven’t this time.” Twilight blinked to break their shared trance. “I don’t want to talk about this.” Celestia faced the water. It went on for all eternity, its end unknown. Perhaps if she swam far enough she’d fall off the edge of the planet? Such childish thinking was blissful in those moments. Her thoughts were interrupted when Twilight stood shoulder to shoulder to her. “We have to talk about it,” she whispered. Celestia shook her head. “No we don’t.” “Who’s the father? I won’t mind if he’s somepony I know.” “Shhh,” Celestia whispered right back. “Princess—“ “Shhh.” Twilight stopped talking. They stood there allowing the ocean to retract around them. It moved as if taking in a breath, more alive than the two alicorns keeping it company. “I know why you did it. You were frustrated, confused, I can feel it, I can feel every emotion you suffered through when it happened.” Twilight slowly nuzzled her head against her mentor’s cheek. Their horns collided, two drawn swords. Only a few short years ago Twilight barely stood at Celestia’s collarbone, but now they were nearly the same height. “You were just so overwhelmed…if only I were there, if only I could’ve helped you…You know Spike woke me up in utter horror that night when he coughed up the—“ Twilight couldn’t say it. “I didn’t know what to think at the time, but when Luna told me, it all just made sense.” She looked up to meet Celestia’s eyes in search of an answer. Celestia shook her head again. “I don’t want to talk about this.” “We need to talk about this,” before Celestia could deny her further, Twilight kept talking. “I will admit that I was shocked when I heard it. I mean, for normal ponies, yeah I guess that’s just what they do—it’s a part of any species’ life, it’s life itself for crying out loud!” A short chuckle tumbled out of her. “But for you to do it… guess I never thought it possible.” Twilight looked just as disappointed as Luna. “My dearest princess doing something so carnal.” And that just left Celestia with a heavier guilt for the sin she committed against that awful, no good, parasite. The thought of Luna bearing witness to its abuse, of Twilight knowing. Why would she ever allow him to touch it? “I’m sorry,” Celestia repeated as if her stupid little parasite could hear her. “I won’t ever allow it to happen again.” Twilight hugged her tightly. “You don’t need to apologize, Princess. These things happen—“ “But that doesn’t make it right! Not at all.” “I mean, if it didn’t happen then I wouldn’t be here, nor anypony else, Princess.” Twilight pulled away. “I mean, maybe you and Luna would still be here… you do have parents, don’t you?” The image of Gilaffy with his mouth between the thing’s legs evaporated. “You’re still talking about mating, aren’t you.” This was crazy. This was dumb. This was unnecessary, and something she didn’t want to deal with at all, ever. So she wouldn’t. “You weren’t?” Twilight raised a brow while she watched Celestia pace back and forth. “What were you referring to?” “Twilight, leave me alone.” That would be her one and only warning. “What else had happened—“ Celestia stamped her hooves, locked eyes on the tourist-heavy beach in the opposite direction of Twilight, and she took off. “Princess?!” Like a fiery chariot, she galloped with burning passion, her heart pounding out of her chest, her hooves picking up speed. “Princess!” Faster. Faster. Faster. “Celestia!” Hotter. Hotter. Hotter. Celestia focused on the beach in order to outrun her own thoughts. She kept her wings tucked, she wouldn’t take flight, here is where she needed to be. And instinctively her head lowered, her horn positioned forward, as if to ram it through her target. Who was her target? The ponies relaxing, wrapped up in their own lives, on the sound of music over the jukeboxes, on the drinks, on the game of wing volleyball, to notice the burning horse charging towards them? Was that her target? A bunch of innocent creatures, but how true was that? Someone had to be held accountable for doing this to her. Someone did this to her. Someone did. Her mane fell out of its bun and caught fire. The ponies remained ignorant—blind! Stupid! Not responsible for this. Her little ponies wouldn’t see her like this, no matter how much she tore the earth open in her gallope, no matter how much she wanted to just… To just— “Princess!” Through a burst of energy, Twilight appeared in front of her, and grabbed hold of her horn. The second her magic made contact with Celestia’s, she couldn’t hold it down anymore, and she erupted in a huge spark of light. Twilight dug her heels in the now molten ground beneath her, and she held tighter as the metal on her body evaporated from the blast. Celestia screamed. She screamed not in pain but just as Twilight had said, frustration, confusion, all those emotions she didn’t want to suffer through. She screamed until the once pink beach turned pure diamond beneath her, and the rage erode the bit of her gut laid dormant until next time. Until the next tantrum. Until her next regret. “Princess,” Twilight caught her when she collapsed. “You are unwell,” her once faithful student concluded as she gazed down at her from the bubble she constructed around them. She pouted, her lip quivered, Celestia sobbed. “I’m not.” “You are.” Like a lobotomized robot, those words came out of Twilight’s lips with very little emotion. “Twilight—“ “Don’t fight me on this, please, Princess.” “Twilight, I’m okay.” Twilight did say anything further, but she stared at her with this suffocating sort of disappointment. It hurt worse than Luna’s sorrow. “Your gaze is so cold.” Celestia looked away, instead finding comfort in the normality of the tourist. There was a busdonkey staring directly at them— he had been the only creature in such a crowded environment who noticed, likely an effect of Twilight’s magic cloaking the whole ordeal so as not to startle the ponies. As he held a tray in his mouth, as he stopped dead in his tracks to gaze, Celestia recognized him as the jack from dinner a few nights prior. “We can help you.” Twilight still had a grip on her horn. Celestia thought about him plowing her—such an odd thought indeed. He was a loser, a creature at the very bottom of Equestrian society. No one would ever care about an ugly donkey immigrant making 5 bits a day cleaning tables. He was the lowest of the low, and she was the most high. Yes, a beloved princess, adored by both pony and other. She was the pinnacle—it’d never get better than her. Yet she thought about him fucking her raw in the filthiest stall in the resort’s busiest bathroom. She thought about him inseminating her without her knowledge and getting her knocked up with his defective spawn. She thought about birthing his hideous baby, she thought about it happening again, from the grossest sex to the babies she’d have. These thoughts weren’t good, she thought, but if they were in her mind then surely it was a fantasy of hers. A fantasy oddly familiar, but one she’d never recall experiencing. “I could do a better job at punishing myself. I think I should do it.” “Nopony wants to punish you, Princess”. A unicorn mare fanning her sun kissed face with a magazine, bumped into the busdonkey, which caused the cold drinks he carried to spill all over her expensive name-brand bikini bottoms that only the wealthiest of society would bother to wear. With magic she rolled up the magazine to hit him repeatedly over the head with it. “You idiot! Look what you did!” “Sorry, miss ma’am. Sorry,” he attempted to avoid the blows, cowering into himself, but he was pinned between her and a lifeguard’s watch post. “Where is your manager, you filthy animal! Where are they?!” She continued to beat him while a few onlookers gave passing glances, and some came a little closer to see what was going on, but no one intervened. “You’re gonna be standing in the unemployment line when I’m done with you!” “We need to head back now.” Twilight helped Celestia up. “It’s nearly time.” “Time for what?” She was never given an answer. It KnewTo live as long as she had, recognizing when something was off just came naturally. Forget about Twilight Sparkle’s poorly muffled tension, the sun sat lopsided in the sky—a placement not quite right for the time of the year and time of day. When she looked up, way up, she spotted the moon painted a faint blue behind in the clear sky. It played the role of the North Star guiding them towards the beach house, and it remained there, directly above it with stubborn defiance. Luna was home. With a burst of excitement, Celestia broke into a full gallop towards their white picket fence. “Aunty!” Cadance waited in the backyard, and when she spotted her she wore the same forced smile as Twilight, only her poker face wasn’t as strong. Raising on her hind legs with the aid of her flapping wings, Cadance opened her arms to offer the approaching mare a hug. Celestia denied her one, far too aware that she was serving as a barrier between her and her sweet Luna. “You are looking very well,” Cadance lied. Celestia leaped over her niece’s head, straight through the sliding door glass, to land into the kitchen of the house. Shards of what was once a dusty window scattered across the puddle of water pooling from beneath the running sink. That all went ignored, what mattered more than glass in her mane was finding out why the parasite had gone quiet. As if she cared about it. As if she had any incentive to keep the treacherous thing alive. Approaching her bedroom door, Celestia came to a halt as she held her breath. There was fog between the hinges, through each crack. This dread, this suffocating regret, as if the reaper stood on the other side waiting to greet her for the final time. Or greet the parasite. In those moments, those few short seconds, Cestestia couldn’t say she felt much. It needed to die, she wanted it did—at least she thought so? She didn’t know. Gilaffy could’ve done it for her, she could’ve asked him to end it since she was too much of a coward to take it out of her misery herself. But then she heard Luna’s lullaby, and though it was drenched in her sorrow, it lacked the weight of grief. Celestia slowly opened the door. In the dark room, under the warm light of Luna’s horn, the moon goddess cradled the skeletal form of the parasite. She breathed life into it with a gentle kiss, and as she kept it close to her chest, Celestia just knew her sister had fallen deeply in love just by the way she looked at it—and Luna never looked at her that way. Such strong adoration for someone so undeserving of it? It just made Celestia very envious of her own infant child. “Why did you leave me, Luna?” Celestia came closer. If she got her way, she’d yank the parasite from Luna’s grasps and punish it for stealing yet another thing from her. Her sister turned her back on Celestia while she kept her sights on the parasite as if it were the only being on earth. But that wasn’t fair. Not after their long time away from each other. One whole week? Since Luna’s return they’ve never gone a few days without seeing each other’s face. “Luna?” Celestia begged for her attention. But Luna reserved all of her love for the nasty little creature Celestia hated more than she knew. “Quite a beauty to behold, a gift I’ll forever cherish. Rest now my precious child, for when you wake you’ll be renewed,” Luna whispered as she soothed the parasite into pleasant dreams. And Celestia came even closer, an anger taking a hold of her as her mind was left conflicted. That parasite wasn’t Luna’s. She didn’t have to suffer through its birth, so how could she just claim it as her own as if Celestia had no say in the matter? “That’s my baby,” she reminded her sister who still refused to look at her. Luna kept singing, and rocking, and keeping her back to Celestia—such a spiteful act of defiance that made her want to erupt. Before Celestia could confront her, Twilight placed a hoof on her shoulder. “The chariots are here.” Why was that said with no emotion? Was Twilight also upset with her? “Luna and the foal will ride in the first, and you’ll ride with Cadance and I, princess.” Still cradling the parasite in her magic, Luna turned around to head out of the door without uttering a single word to her sister. Celestia, of course, attempted to follow, only for Twilight to once again stand in her way. “I should ride with my baby.” Celestia reminded her once faithful student of this fact since she had been so adamant on pestering her about this child before, so of course Twilight should understand and be on her side. Twilight did not understand, or she did not care. “I don’t think that’s a good idea—“ “And why not?” Still a head taller than Twilight, Celestia raised her neck to stare down at her as if she had the right to hold such a cold judgemental stare on the nation’s current monarch. As if Celestia had her head screwed on straight, as if they both weren’t aware there was something very, very wrong with her current mental state. As if she weren’t a breakdown away from becoming a living bomb. So Twilight eased up, and she did what was best for all the creatures of Equestria. “Princess,” she smiled, and through the glow of her heavenly magic, Celestia could be coaxed to calm down. “I’m excited to ride with you. Just like old times.” “Like old times?” They locked their gaze. Twilight infiltrated her mind with her will. Do as I say, it’ll be alright. “I’m smarter than that,” Celestia reminded not only her former student, but herself of this fact. “Your magic is only as strong as I allow it.” “You are strong.” “I know that.” “So be strong for her and comply?” With such desperation in Twilight’s voice it was easy to give in, to just get this over with, but Celestia didn’t want to. She wanted to fight for what? What was there to push back against. “Luna hates me.” “Luna only wants to save the foal.” Twilight tucked her head beneath Celestia’s chin to offer her comfort. She wasn’t upset with her, she just didn’t want her to be broken anymore. “Don’t you?” Celestia didn’t know how she felt anymore. Milk dripped down her forelegs and to moisten the velvet cushions beneath Celestia. Cadance had noticed but had said a word about it. She hadn’t said a word to Celestia at all, not since they entered the chariot a while ago. The windows were covered by curtains. The world outside was muffled by high winds. They sat in silence. Everything felt off. Celestia had lived long enough to know when she was being led into a situation she couldn’t simply walk away from, yet she stayed put. She put up no fuss. She behaved like a good filly despite knowing what was likely planned for her. Luna knew what she had done. By her sister’s reaction, there was no mistaking that she was, in fact, present in her dream. She knew about Gilaffy and what Celestia allowed him to do . Now the question was whether or not Twilight knew too. The laws on such an offense were very well known to Celestia considering that, well, she helped write them. Technically, she could be held just as liable for the crime of sexual misconduct of a foal under 3 years of age, and charged with molestation, foal endangerment, assault of an infant—there was enough to place her on a list for a long time. She would deserve it too. charges that could get tacked on there too. How such a loving princess could become a bad pony. Celestia felt ashamed, but there was no redoing the past. And to be quite frank, Celestia wasn’t too keen on being punished for such heinous crimes—it’d ruin her holy image. Now that is if Twilight was aware of Gilaffy. Judging by Twilight not once mentioning his name, the lack of concern on what he possibly did to the parasite, if Celestia had to wager a guess she’d say she was none the wiser. But that begged the question of why Luna would tell Twilight everything else, yet keep the worst part of it to herself. “Oh, Luna.” Celestia shut her eyes and hung her head. Of course Luna wouldn’t want the world to know the monstrous thing Celestia had done. “It's going to be alright. We’re almost there.” Twilight smiled as she nuzzled against her. “Can I explain myself?” Celestia had to distract from the fact she felt herself heating up. “I didn’t believe it was real.” “You didn’t believe what was real?” Cadance placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder. “The para—the foal…my baby.” To see the forced smile on Cadance's face gradually sag into that of a frustrated frown was oddly the most satisfying thing Celestia had witnessed all day. She’d rather raw honest truth than the fake politeness she’s been receiving, and honest truth was just what Cadance was going to serve to her. “No I can’t,” Cadance pushed away. “I know you want me to be kind, Twilight, but I just can’t do this. As a mother I just—“ Taking a deep inhale, she bite her tongue. It was awkward as they fell into silence. Each mare exchanging looks between each other. Twilight nodded. “Okay—“ No, they would not drop this to place the masks back on. Celestia wanted to confront this, she wanted a conflict—or a resolution. Whichever happened first. “Just say what you want to say.” So she loomed over her niece, both well aware who the superior alicorn was—and Cadance was far from superior to anyone beyond her bratty husband. “You can’t convince me a pony with your age and wisdom couldn’t recognize a foal.” Cadance broke their eye contact in favor of feeding her more faux politeness. “But it’s fine. I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end after you get the help that you need.” That was a bit smug. “Help this, help that…” as Celestia shook her head, her mane whipped all corners of their tight space. “Who’s to say I want the help? What if I decide to reject it? Fly out of this cabin without a second word? Never speak to either of you again?” “Then you’d be throwing a tantrum, and we’d have every right to put you in timeout,” Cadance scoffed while she sat up with her forelegs. “I’ll take that as my cue to leave—“ “Enough!” Twilight slammed her hoof on the red cushioned floor of their cabin. “Princess Cadance, I request that you be mature about this.” “Of course, princess.” With a royal bow, the ruler of the Crystal Kingdom returned to her silence. “Please, calm down for me. This is hard on everypony.” Unlike with Cadance, Twilight handled Celestia with kid gloves. And as she extended a hoof like a seatbelt over her mentor, the chariot descended from the atmosphere. “You’re already doing so well—“ Celestia stuck her long neck past Twilight’s shoulder to steal a glance out of the drawn curtains concealing the world outside. They weren’t landing on solid ground, but approaching a cloud castle—rather a fortress that went on for miles in either direction. Below its feet were dark ominous thunderclouds occasionally flashing from bolts of electricity. The earth below was but a figment of one’s imagination, there was nothing in this void beyond their destination. This was no happy place. The line of pegasi guards taking formation as the chariot approached its landing strip didn’t help ease her mind. “Twilight…” Celestia didn’t know what to say. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, took in a deep breath, and just let it out. “You intend to imprison me?” “We need to focus on making sure your foal is alive, Princess. Here is the best location to do that while keeping things discreet.” Twilight’s response was predictable, robotic even, vague in a sense that it didn’t answer her initial question. She used her magic to obscure Celestia’s view, but she already caught a glance of Luna’s chariot landing and before the doors could even open, a group of doctors flew from the fortress’ doors to retrieve the dying parasite. Celestia gathered up her tail as she prepared to leave. “I’m sure with the right magic, and in the hooves of professionals, it should be alright.” She assured herself, but said it aloud so Twilight and Cadance wouldn’t think she was a psychopath. Perhaps it was too late for that. “We do have a few professionals who’d like to speak to you too.” Twilight smiled. “How come? I’m not sick.” The surface of the clouds were so thick that Celestia hadn’t felt the cart land at all. Suddenly they were moving, and then they were not. Twilight wouldn’t give her a response. She simply opened the door to a line of saluting guards. “We should go,” she said. Cadance got up behind Celestia, clearly seeking to exit, and thus forcing her forward. A lesser pony might’ve felt intimidated by this, but Celestia was well aware of her status. Nothing could make her feel frightened by her niece. Not even her husband approaching the three in his clad in wartime best. “Princess,” Shining Armor bowed at his sister’s feet. “I hope your ride was favorable and my soldiers didn’t give you too much trouble.” The group turned towards the two pairs of pegasi pulling their chariots. They wore blinders on the side of their helmets, and tight earmuffs. If they weren’t standing directly in their line of sight, they wouldn’t know they were still there, let alone referring to them. “It was…fine enough.” Twilight sighed, but continued on before her brother could draw conclusions and blame the wrong ponies for the figurative turbulence during their flight. “Status update?” “All operations are as requested.” “Thank you, General.” Twilight motioned with her head for him to stand. “Though, it’s crucial that we keep this discreet, so I am a bit disappointed at the number of guards present.” Shining Armor turned around to gauge the repeating faces of white winged stallions. He nodded and grinned behind his polished gold plated helmet. “They are an illusion, princess.” His grin had been shining the entire time, likely to grant himself the ability to walk on the clouds, but as he shook his head like a wet dog, the lines of guards disappeared like clearing fog. “I’ve gotten pretty good at that, haven’t I?” “You have. It was wonderful!” Cadance stomped her hooves in praise. “Quite alluring, if I might add,” she purred like a kitten. Shining Armor stood a foot taller. “You liked that, didn’t you?” “Mhm, I did—“ “Okay, let’s get moving!” Twilight interrupted before things got a little too steamy. To traverse the fortress was like walking blindfolded through a carnival fun house full of mirrors. It didn’t help that Celestia was kept in the dark about a lot of details; like where were they going? Why here of all places? Would the parasite be okay? Nothing was answered, nothing was said even, beyond the sound of their clopping hooves over the cloud castle’s glass floors. Eventually they arrived at a large corridor adorned with ceiling high statues of winged unicorns—alicorns she hadn’t seen before. They held the elements in their hooves as their stone eyes watched them from their high position. Celestia noticed Cadance whisper in her husband’s ear, so faintly that she needed to strain her ears to hear a portion of it. “…thing we never left Flurry alone with...” Cadance had her gaze all over Celestia, spiting her to act out. “Who knows what she would’ve done.” “I still can’t believe it.” Shining Armor replied, but it was a thought in his head. Just as Luna could walk through a pony's slumber, Celestia could gaze into a daydream, but to get the full picture of a pony’s imagination was far more difficult than through a full night’s sleep. The darkness allowed for little distraction. To daydream was to be half awake, and thus the mind could snap back into focus in a second’s notice. Like at that moment when Shining Armor suddenly yelped from under the red hot iron of his armor. Immediately Cadance’s eyes shot towards Celestia as Twilight stopped her silent trot to see what was happening. “You’re hurting him!” Cadance screamed, reared up, then slammed her front hooves against the glass floor shattering it to get at the clouds below. Her horn lit up, Shining Armor was knocked off his feet and into a pool of cool water. The group watched as he sizzled in his magical fishbowl before the temperatures returned to normal. “I can’t believe you’d do that.” “I’m simply standing here.” Unlike her niece, Celestia didn’t raise her voice. “I haven’t used my magic once.” “Liar! You liar, aunty!” Shining Armor, with his mane dripping over his eyes, stood up, only to be pushed right back down by his wife. “I’m alright—“ “She’s trying to burn you alive!” “I’m simply standing here,” Celestia repeated. Twilight removed Shining Armor’s helmet and helped him on his smoking hooves. “I don’t believe the Princess can control her temperatures. That is on us, Cadance. We should’ve been more vigilant of the rising heat.” “Us?!” Cadance blinked in utter shock. Her face wrinkled into something feral, furious. “How was I supposed to know she would do that?! She’s over a thousand years old yet needs to be babysat?! Stop infantilizing her!” “Princess Cadance,” Twilight looked down at her sister-in-law, wings spread to add size, while she challenged her disordenice with her gaze alone. Cadance might’ve been older, but Twilight was the lead mare in Equestria. She wouldn’t allow her to forget that. Both Cadance, and in turn Shining Armor, bowed in reverence. “My apologies, princess,” they said in sync. “Perhaps Princess Celestia wouldn’t have gotten so worked up if you two weren’t gossiping in earshot.” Twilight shut her wings but allowed her glare to linger for just a second longer before she released them from her Medusan hold. “Our apologies,” Cadance said alone. “On your feet.” As they continued forward, Celestia slowly wandered to Twilight’s side. How odd she felt to have their roles reversed. Twilight the motherly monarch, and Celetia the starry eyed subject—though she wasn’t exactly starry eyed, moreso suspicious. “You don’t need to defend me, Twilight. A few mean words hardly make a dent on my psyche.” Through a room, then a long hallway, and through yet another room, they were approaching a wide stone door over ten feet in height. It took a moment, one far too long, before Twilight gave her a response. “I think you’re currently in a fragile state of mind. Some things will affect you more than usual.” “You speak as if that’s fact.” Celestia looked up at the peak of the door. There were intricate inscriptions running along the entirety of it, and by the way the light shined chromatically against each crease and crevice, Celestia knew that every fiber of its being was oozing with ancient sorcery. Whatever this place was, Celestia didn’t know, and she assumed she knew every location on the Equestrian map, be it deep underground, or hundreds of feet in the air. So she took a step back. This was no chamber to Tartarus, but something far worse. Twilight looked beyond her with a smile. “Starswirl! There you are.” She gladly motioned him over with her neck. “Princesses,” he bowed, and as he did, two other young sorcerers followed suit. Celestia might’ve been a little rusty on her royal duties, but despite seeing millions upon millions of faces throughout her lifetime, she recognized the lilac mare as the reformed Starlight Glimmer, and the caped stallion as Sunburst. And in those moments it all came very neatly together. Celestia looked towards the large open window, her illusion of escape if Shining Armor intensely watching her was anything to go by. She hardly feared him, a hot helmet was enough to make him cry, but she knew he wasn’t there to serve as muscle. He was a battery for Cadance. So she found herself in a room with two alicorns, one she was certain she could take in her sleep, and another she was…very doubtful about. Beyond those two there were three wizards, and not just any wizard, but Starswirl the Bearded, a sorcery powerful enough to cheat death himself without the need for ascension. Celestia wasn’t too certain about his underlings, but the simple fact that Twilight requested their presence was enough to cause her to hesitate. “I’m glad you all could make it. Please, on your feet.” Twilight smiled. Celestia scanned for another escape. The architecture of the fortress was nothing she'd seen before. Markings of beasts with two heads, and sharp teeth, and crazed eyes lined the center of the ceiling, and on the far right were equine chopping the heads of these beasts with curved blades and golden plated armor. In the far left? In the far left, just above the door, were alicorns transforming into the monsters the ponies fought. Starswirl chuckled as he spoke. “It’s a pleasure, princess. All measures are in order to ensure the erasure of our memories after our duties are fulfilled, just as you requested.” “Perfect. The same will need to be done to the surgeons, and the set of soldiers that escorted us here today.” “Of course. They won’t remember a thing once they leave this place.” Starswirl kept his gaze on Celestia. “We were just going over a few preparations for the ritual. There is no room for error after all as in the best case scenario, we simply fail to open the gate. In the worst case, well, we could unintentionally release a malicious entity.” As Starswirl spoke, his beard swung back and forth from the bells dangling from it. Were those new? Tiny gold bells to match the ones on his hat? “Fortunately, I have very brilliant help with me today.” His eyes crescent as he made room for Starlight and Sunburst, both equally humbled by the compliment. “I would say it’s the time I’ve spent studying on Skyros that is to blame.” Sunburst magically pushed his glasses up the bridge of his snout. “That and Starlight.” His cheeks burned red. Starlight didn’t appear to notice his flustered state at the mere mention of her. “Well I—“ “What is this ritual for?” Celestia butted in with a tilted head. She knew that they knew that she knew what they were planning. It was a mind game they were playing, she figured. Perhaps their way of making her too nervous to think straight since everyone present knew that whatever they had planned, it was for her. Twilight placed a comforting hoof on her shoulder. “You’ll get the help that you need.” “Right.” Celestia observed the sea of smiling faces. All phonies, all fake. “It’s not a prison,” Twilight added. “Right.” “It’s for your own good.” That same comforting hoof now rubbed her shoulder as if to claim everything would be just fine. It was believable for a young foal, but obviously not for Celestia. Through the burst of the collective magic of the three sorcerers, diamond cuffs appeared, and judging by its plain matte finish, it wasn’t diamond for appearances but durability. Seven cuffs in total, four for each leg, two for her wings, and one for her horn. The leg cuffs weren’t shackled together, they only served to suppress her strength. The wing cuffs, to ground her. The horn cuffs, to seal her magic. Celestia had lorded over enough criminal cases throughout the years to know how these things operated, and to know that once the cuffs were on they weren’t coming off short of amputation. “It’ll only be a short while,” Twilight assured her with the same motherly tone Celestia would previously use on her. She stepped closer, taking the cuffs in her own magic, as all ponies present gradually formed a circle around the rogue princess to trap her like a wild animal. Celestia could feel herself warming up. She took a deep breath. The open window was only a few wing strokes away, but the more she stared, the more she noticed the same chromatic light reflecting off an invisible barrier. They came prepared for her bolting out of there, of course they did. Celestia wanted to feel insulted, but she had no time for that. She needed to think of a way out of this. “How short exactly?” “A little while.” Twilight kept it vague. “You’ll be out before you know it.” So nothing short of a thousand years at least. “All by myself?” She looked towards the room Starswirl and his apprentices came from. “Isolated in a cage?” “No, no. It’s more like a facility with other deities who also have similar problems. Fully staffed and all, and the scenery is so soothing, not to mention the heavenly music.” Twilight had a twinkle in her eyes just thinking about it—or at least coaxing Celestia to envision it. “It really is nice, aunty. I had an opportunity to magically tour the place with the Princess, and if the books are anything to go by, I don’t think there exists a location as nice as that facility in our physical realm.” Cadance, all high and mighty, was the first to make a nice little pathway towards the strange stone door. “Oh, really?” Celestia feigned excitement. “That’s not so bad. I guess I’ll go.” Twilight opened the horn cuff as she edged it closer towards its very long and pointed target. “This is so good to hear, and you’re very brave to agree to this, princess. I’m proud of you—“ Celestia yanked her head back before the cuff could shut. “But I want to make sure my baby is alive and I want to say goodbye to Luna.” “I don’t think that’s—“ “Please,” she pouted. “How will I ever manage to focus on healing while the guilt of never getting to say goodbye to my only sister and foal looms over my head?” Celestia lowered her neck to the ground as if to wipe her tears against the glass floor. “I wouldn’t see the point in continuing on. In that case, I’d rather transition out of this life.” Such threats were never uttered from Celestia’s lips, so it was no wonder that Twilight would take it very seriously. She dropped her magic completely, from the cuffs that hovered above their heads, to the invisible force field around the fortress. And tears pricked the corners of Twilight’s eyes, she staggered on her breath, her calm facade fell. “You wouldn’t…” Starswirl spoke up. “Princess, we shouldn’t delay. There is a limited window of time to perform the ritual.” “I know, but…” Twilight couldn’t contain her tears any longer. “She deserves to at least say goodbye.” “Princess,” Cadance picked up the cuffs herself. “Why don’t I do it then? We can just have Luna write to her and give an update on the status of the foal. There’s no need for her to see them and cause more damage.” “I might be gone for a while,” Celestia sighed. “Can’t I have just this moment?” And she was really outdoing herself with the pity act, though that was due in fact that she wasn’t fully pretending. If they were going to cast her to the realm of bad, naughty, no good gods—something she didn’t even do to Nightmare Moon—then seeing Luna’s face for one last time was the only way she’d survive it. And maybe even seeing the parasite too, for whatever reason. “I won’t put up a fuss afterwards.” Cadance huffed a, “no.” But Twilight had been convinced enough through her own tears of nostalgia and aging reverence for her mentor. Of course she’d cave in. Of course she would. “We’ll aim for the next window of time. The princess should be granted a chance to say goodbye.” “We’re looking at the following full moon at the latest, princess. We still have a few hours today to open the gate.” Through his magic, a book appeared before Starswirl. “If Princess Celestia is indeed showing signs of turning, it wouldn’t be wise to allow our emotions to fog our judgment.” Whatever he was searching for in that book, he had found, but he didn’t share it with the rest of them. “Especially when millions of lives are on the line.” “I understand.” Twilight wiped the tears from her eyes as she inhaled to regain her composure. “Then we have a few hours. That’s plenty of time to say goodbye.” Starswirl nodded with a bow. “As you wish, your majesty.”
It CameThere was something very wrong. Pins and needles. She felt this tightness in her abdomen before bed last night—just wicked pain. Invasive, nasty, pain that persistently pressed against her intestines. Celestia was an early bird, often up before the sun due to habit now rather than duty, but midnight was too early to stir. She didn’t stir. She was violently ripped from her sleep and she’s been uncomfortable since. Up and down, inconsistent highs and lows. Pain strikes that never went below a 6, and her spine—her hips were made to take the brunt of it. Cruel. So very cruel, and still she wore a smile as she sat at the table with her sister. Celestia had mastered the poker face after centuries of adapting to stress, of being the chewed bubblegum that kept the card tower together. It was easy to appear so calm even in a state of panic, but she’d never hurt like this before. Not even before her ascension. It’s been getting worse. So very worse, and if something wasn’t done soon she swore she’d go into shock. “Please, if you would excuse me.” With all her years, and there were far too many, this pain she could not pinpoint. Was this it? Was morality catching up with her after forfeiting the crown? No, something was coming. She felt it moving in her barrel. This body was not her own. “Are you in distress, dearest sister?” Luna placed her bagel down. She held such a worried expression that Celestia couldn’t help but wear the mask. Another shot of pins caused her own magic to vanish, the tea cup it held fell on her serving of hash browns, and she was on her feet to prevent any questions. “Of..” She swallowed. Her legs were shaking so much. “Of course. I simply have some business to attend to.” Luna understood and nodded. “I should not be long.” And Celestia assured her with a smile as radiant as the rising sun. Another cramp. Another twist. Another pull. Celestia took her time leaving the kitchen table, but it wasn’t until she was certain she was out of sight did she gallop full speed for the bathroom. If she still served as princess this would not be a problem. The castle had frequent powder rooms, and staff to attend to her, or distract her guests, not that she needed either. The stomach pains were just so abnormal that she was certain she would be a while. The door shut behind her, a short sigh of relief, until she felt the drizzle. A puddle had formed beneath her hind hooves, drenching her fur in a peculiar odor. Nothing could warrant incontinence, nothing short of poor health, but Celestia knew her body well enough to know the signs beforehand. Her alicornhood made her less susceptible to most diseases. There was no bodily injuries in the past few months, no change in her usual schedule, and she only had tea for breakfast— It happened again. No longer did she drizzle, but a whole flood gushed out of her in such violent succession that it knocked the air out of her lungs and brought her to her knees. Her wings spread in reaction, ready to take flight, ready to flee. She could not, not in a bathroom, but she would attempt to drag herself to the toilet. Something was coming out. Had she been poisoned? The tea this morning was prepared by herself, she cooked all the food with her own hooves, she set the table without any help. Luna had not awakened yet. They had no housekeepers, no cooks, no staff, for in retirement the two sisters only wished to live as commoners. The leaves were mint, the tea was mint, and they came straight from their garden. But could it be that somepony somehow managed to tamper with it? No, the pain happened last night. Last night they had seafood on the boardwalk while overlooking the ocean. Did dinner not agree with her stomach? Was the seafood poisoned? Luna had two platefuls. “N-noo..” Celestia struggled to get the words out, struggled to get her magic to behave so she could warn her sister before it was too late. This agony she would not wish on her worst enemy, let alone her beloved. Another strike to her nervous system came and Celestia had given up on making it to the toilet. “Luna..” she tried, she tried so hard, but her body was not her own. It would not behave. Something was coming. Her abdomen constricted, her pelvic muscles worked on their own free will. She made no command to push, yet she did. So much pressure was on her stomach that she was certain her guts would come out. And she made the grave mistake of looking back, and though she was on her side and the cusp of her flank obscured her view, she saw the blood at the dock of her tail. Perhaps her guts were coming out. Perhaps this was the effect of the poison, but she knew she couldn’t be that naive. From where the pain originated, the blood wasn’t from her anus. So she raised her leg and craned her neck to peek between her thighs. In April the two sisters vacationed in Yakistan. They lived like the locals, they shopped like the locals, they ate like the locals and Yaks weighed twice as much as a pony so there was a lot of eating. On the flight home she noticed the extra pounds, the plumpness, the protruding belly. Luna laughed and said her metabolism needed time to catch up, and Celestia only agreed. She never lost the weight regardless of how much she tried, and eventually she stopped trying. Eventually she gave into her odd cravings believing it to be a phase—as princess she couldn’t have deep fried pickles and the greasiest fast food Equestria had to offer. Something moved beneath her skin, she felt this foreign thing kick against her insides, push her entrails in whatever direction made it comfortable. This thing was alive—a completely different vessel from her own. It made no sense. Surely she was poisoned. Surely that was the only explanation. Another contraction hit her. Contraction? No. Impossible. It’s impossible for this much mucus and blood to ooze out of her lower orifice with no signs of damage. It was impossible to witness her marehood dilate, wink, and spit out more sour fluids, before her very eyes. It was impossible for there to be movement in her uterus, for there to be a snout poking out like a bird’s beak beneath an egg. “What sorcery!?” Quickly, she tried to get back on her feet to prevent the inevitable, to attempt to comprehend the implausible. Her wings were flapping like mad, causing white feathers to rain down in the small bathroom. She was panicking, of course she was panicking. A potential invasion at the borders of the kingdom was something to mentally prepare for. Being in active labor was not—not when she was unaware of this, whatever this was. There was just a wet mess all around her, coming from her, but due to shock she was grateful for her muffled silence. With magic the cabinet doors swung open and towels were flung about. Perhaps, in her anxious state, she wanted to clean her mess, or find something to fix her fever because surely she was hallucinating from the poison, but instead she made the situation far worse. The towels knocked beauty products from the counter, shattered a lightbulb, caused a toilet brush to tumble and sprayed waste water on the walls. It was happening too quickly. It was coming. Celestia hadn’t realized her legs gave out from underneath her until she was in the bathtub with the shower curtain over her arched back and the rod caught between her horn and the porcelain wall—her horn impaled through said wall. There had to be a moment of unconsciousness since the shower head rained down on her coat, the tub was a fourth full. She was gurling on water, and if it weren’t for her equine anatomy, nostrils quite a way from the lips, she was sure she could’ve drowned. This alone was a shameful nightmare, but nothing would prepare her for the horrors of seeing the top half of a foal dangling from between her legs like a Hearth's Warming Eve ornament. This strange twitching alien was very much alive and very much real. So Celestia tried to make sense of this. The impact likely made it all come rushing out; she involuntarily pushed, she soiled her white fur pink, and half the thing came out. The pain came from the pressure, the stretching. She felt that thing, that alien, flair its nose, twitch as it took its first breath, kick out as if it had the desire to gallop away. She felt its long legs flex inside, excited to come out, excited to meet her. It was disgusting. “This…isn’t…” It wasn’t possible. Celestia had never mated in all her years of life. Not once had she found the one and not once had she considered it. Serving as Princess overshadowed any carnal desires, and with enough time they ceased to exist altogether. Luna and her little ponies were a sufficient enough family, and this ideology had carried over even in retirement. But Celestia was no fool. She was far too ancient to be. She knew how these things happened—she was no ridiculous filly, but virgins cannot have children. Now she was angry because the only explanation that she would accept was a magical one, and in those circumstances that thing she was birthing would therefore have to be magical too, which meant this could all very well be an illusion. A complete illusion and in no way natural, so was it a real foal? She was jumping through mental hoops, and it was all to distract from what she needed to do next; push with all her might. And she did. She pushed until she grew red in the face, and the rim of her vision darkened, then she’d take a break. She’d take two. Deep breaths, several deep breaths, then again. She’d push. The thing was stubborn. The second half of it should’ve been easy, but something was stuck, and now she wondered if whatever spell was cast on her had all the intentions of causing the most suffering possible. Well, there was a spell to elevate pain—but with a horn through the wall, magic was as good as useless. Celestia attempted to fix that. Her hind legs stood up, backed up to pull herself free, and that is when the thing slipped out of her. A loud splash hit the floor before it did, and despite the pain and despite the exhaustion, she turned around to see it for herself. Laying in the puddle of fluids was a tiny foal—long tail dock, plain, with huge floppy ears. It was no pony. No full pony. The shape of this little thing's head was too rigid despite being a filly. Its snout was too large, its fur, despite being slick and wet, was coarse. It had no horn, no wings. Its mane was a matted black, its coat was a coal grey. And she felt disgusted. More disgusted than if it were a colorful little thing with a horn and wings. She knew that this visceral feeling in her gut would perhaps be replaced with a mother’s love if this thing, be it magic or not, was a pony. It struggled in the soup of sick. New mucus had covered its snout, preventing it from breathing and therefore letting out a cry. She stood there, umbilical cord dangling from her hind legs, watching the creature fight for air. In those moments she felt nothing but disgust. “Tia? Do you need assistance?” A soft knock on the bathroom door pulled her cold gaze from the foal. It took a moment for her to register who that was, where she was, and what had happened. Celestia never felt so old. “I’m alright, Luna.” She called back only to reassure her sister—to reassure herself. Was she alright? It was hard to tell, but she definitely felt outside of her body, like her two eyes weren’t witnessing a creature squirm in birth juice, and a creature that came out of her. It wasn’t her in this room but somepony she watched through a crystal ball. What an awful mare, she thought. Do something before it dies, she thought too, yet Celestia didn’t move. She only watched. “Tia? Are you in the shower?” Was she? The shower was running, wasn’t it? Everything just went on autopilot then. “I’ll be out in a moment.” With the towels, Celestia scooped up the foal and wrapped her tightly. The goal was not to provide comfort but to hide the anomaly. It was thrown in the laundry basket along with more towels to cover it up. She shut the whicker lid with such little care. “I’ll be out in a moment!” It was repeated yet she didn’t realize. And with magic, the alicorn quickly got to restoring the bathroom in its rightful order. Shower off, the curtain up, the wall rebuilt in seconds. The puddles raised and swirled around her causing a twister of bodily fluids that all traveled towards the toilet bowl. The busted light bulb was unscrewed and thrown away—she didn't have the care to fix that. “I’ll be out in a moment.” The placenta came shortly afterwards with no pushing on her part. It slid out like a dead fish from a barrel. She didn’t even look at it, it was discarded with a quick teleport. If she was thinking she’d realize it would resurface through dragon fire. But Celestia wasn’t thinking, she was working on autopilot. The toilet was flushed, her legs were wiped down, and a soundproof spell was placed on the basket for safe measures. It would be handled later. Celestia struggled to stay upright. She needed to rest. She needed to forget about that thing that came out of her. The door opened and she wore a smile. Luna peeked over her shoulder, but she only found a squeaky clean bathroom. As far as she’ll know, nothing happened. “Was breakfast disagreeable?” “Tremendously, though I’m afraid whatever I ate last night was the culprit. I had to shower afterwards.” Her eyes smiled, her lips just the same, but it was all a part of the mask. “I might lay down for a bit. Can we reschedule our tennis game for this evening?” “Of course. You do look awfully drained, yet less bloated.” Luna chuckled as she playfully poked her side. “Ahh, yes. I hadn’t noticed I’ve been packing on the weight, but I likely lost twenty pounds in there.” The both of them shared a laugh. Celestia wiped a tear from her eye, but if only Luna knew it was one of sorrow. “Perhaps we should add a nice gallop along the beach to today’s schedule?” Celestia shut the lights off and closed the bathroom door without giving the thing a second glance.
It SawThe sun stared at her from behind her lace curtains. She tried to hide from it, she tried to roll over in bed to ignore it, but its burning gaze somehow managed to penetrate the fat of her skull. Now the sun was the only thing Celestia thought about, and perhaps it only wanted to make sure she was okay, but she felt too embarrassed to face it. How pitiful she became. No longer was she all powerful, no, she was like any old mare, but she wasn’t any old mare. Her body was as cosmic as the stars. She was born for greatness—accomplished greatness, yet somehow, with all said greatness, she managed to get pregnant. It was magic. Yes, yes just magic, and she had quite the case ahead of her to find out who inflicted her with the parasite. There surely weren’t many wizards in Equestria with the ability to stealthily cast an incantation strong enough to penetrate her alicorn defenses and at a distance too, since Celestia would definitely know if it were close range. At least she’d like to think so. The sun would know. The sun was still staring. “Go away.” She whispered as she stared right back at the fleeting light. It couldn’t hear her. What was the sun but a floating gas ball trillions of miles away. It had no voice, no beating heart, no will to live. Huh. No will to live. Even a nasty little thing had one of those. Even a nasty little vermin that would dare to invade her body had a Will to survive, to carry on, to fight for life. It still struggled for air, probably. It still squirmed in a towel like an earth worm in the soil. Or maybe it died. It likely died with its snout all covered in mucus. There was no way that creature survived. There was just no way her thing—that thing was still alive. Had she forgotten to breathe? Celestia inhaled, took in such deep breath that her lungs inflated double their original size, and she rolled over again to face the window. She exhaled as she shut her eyes tightly. There was no baby. There was magic. How could she let this happen? How could she let her guard down to allow—no it wasn’t her fault. It was the fault of a blasphemous little pony who dared to go against their goddess. How dare they. How dare they violate her. How dare they have such boldness—such the gull to put—to come out of her as if she couldn’t rain down the wraith of a burning sun on their miserable little existence. Once she got her hooves on whoever was responsible, she would not hold back. Oh, she would let them know why one doesn’t mess with a sun goddess, even if there’s blood to pay. “Knock, knock.” A gentle voice murmured as it unintentionally calmed her rage. Celestia hadn’t realized the temperature in the room had soared until Luna turned the metal door knob and yelped in pain. “Ow!” She flapped her hoof like a penguin attempting flight. “Did you intend to prank me, dearest sister?” Prank? “Ahh, no.” A goddess had no time for that. “I believe it is simply my fever’s doing.” Celestia didn’t break a sweat, but it was less due to her heat resistance and more to do with the stiffness in her muscles. Yet she felt so tender between her legs, specifically her teets that now decided to turn the faucet on and pour milk everywhere. Disgusting. Celestia brought her blanket up to her chin and buried herself in more pillows. “I apologize for this evening. I hate to cancel on you, Luna, but I’m not well.” She was from it, but her sickness went beyond physical. The sun was setting quickly, and as the moon mare trotted closer towards the bed, a cool shadow followed tightly behind. In her magic was parchment and quills. She wore reading glasses on her midnight snout, and she tied her mane up above her head into a messy bun. This was Work Luna. Super Focused Luna. It was a pleasant thing to witness, but shocking that she would be so willing to break her flow just to chat with her sister. “Please, don’t apologize. Your wellness takes prominence over all else.” Sigh blue magic, the covers were lifted and Luna scooted into the bed next to Celestia with a smile. The paper and quill rested right in front of her hooves. The feather brushed Celestia’s snout. “Shall I summon a doctor? I’m certain they’ll be able to—“ “No.” It was nearly yelled, yet Celestia caught her tone. “No doctors.” She knew what was wrong just like she could pinpoint every nerve, blood vessel, and cell in her body. Who needed a bunch of white coats to point out her fatigue was due to the strenuous task of pushing life from her body—be it magical or not—because she did not. Beyond that, the last thing she wanted was for anyone to find out she somehow, someway, was impregna like any old mare. Like she wasn’t capable of rising the moon and the sun all with her own magic. Like she didn’t rule for millennia. Like she wasn’t a— “Sister?” The room was heating up again. Luna held up her charred paper to prove it. “Are you certain? You are awfully hot.” She placed a hoof to her forehead only to pull away just like with the door knob. “Yes, this doesn’t seem normal.” What does she know? She’s been on the moon longer than the two have been together. They were strangers more than sisters—so estranged that Luna couldn’t even tell the fat was abnormal. “Luna, please. I know what is best for my body, and it does not require a doctor.” More milk was oozing down her leg, bubbling, coming to a boil, than solidifying in the rising temperature. She grabbed another pillow. “We overindulged on seafood, and now I’m paying the price, but I can assure you come morning I’ll be just fine.” Through the rims of her glasses, her younger sister studied her—and how dare she. She looked for signs of deceit as if Celestia was just any old pony, like she had the right to. Why this angered her, Celestia did not know. And Luna asked. “Are you certain?” And the wallpaper was peeling from the walls, burning black at the edges, slowly crumbling to char. “I’m very certain.” To drop the subject, and get a hold of her emotions, Celestia picked up one of the parchment and read it over. “How is your foal’s book coming along? I see you made it to chapter 3.” As the room cooled so did Luna’s nerves. “Yes, I have been working diligently this past hour, and I have managed to tame the beast that is writer’s block by returning to my roots.” A bit of her empyrean mane got in her face. Luna made a poor attempt to tuck it into her bun. “My time away was filled with daydreams, storytelling, an imagination I didn’t know I held.” A small smile faded on her lips. “Of course, I only had an audience of two; myself and the moon beneath me. It wasn’t as nerve wrecking then.” Celestia didn’t hear her. There were many doodles on the sides of the parchment. A particular rabbit on a crescent moon caught her eye, and she’s been watching as if it could come to life and hop off the page. She didn’t find it particularly offensive—not the moon, but definitely the rabbit. Why was it so fat? What was Luna trying to say? “What an interesting interruption of a rodent.” Luna tilted her head in confusion. “Rodent?” And she too tried to see what her sister was referring to. The rabbit was the only doodle. “That is Bin Bun, the protector of Buntopia; a civilization on the surface of the moon.” Luna looked at the drawing fondly. “I know I haven’t discussed my book in detail with you sister, but she is a major part of it. I just hope foals—young creatures all across the world will love her.” Her voice dimmed. “I know I did when I was all alone, but I really saw them sometimes, Tia.” Again, her sister’s words went unheard. Celestia couldn’t peel her eyes from the rabbit. It was smiling despite having such a bloated stomach. How could any being look so happy with such a condition? “Why is it fat?” She asked coldly as if the drawing was just insulting her whole being. What a fat, unless rabbit. Luna’s ears fell in embarrassment. “Well, uh, I suppose that was simply my art style, but upon second look it does appear quite ridiculous.” She took the paper from Celestia’s magic and immediately tucked it away. Despite her dark coat, a burning red appeared on her flustered face. “I’ll design something better.” With the rabbit gone, whatever self imposed mental spell Celestia found herself in was broken. It was then that she realized the gravity of her comment, and how much it hurt, and perhaps it wasn’t intentional. Perhaps she didn’t know. It was far too easy to get lost in her head, and now she wondered if this feeling was genuine stress. Since the return of Nightmare Moon, Celestia had experienced more stress in those five years following than all her years of ruling, so she’d know that familiar feeling. Whatever she was currently experiencing was something entirely different. “No, Luna, I didn’t mean it like that. In fact, I find your creation gorgeous, not to mention you have improved tremendously since the last time I’ve seen a drawing of yours.” A warm hoof was placed on the younger mare’s back. Luna lit up as bright as a full moon. “Oh, that’s because it has been centuries.” She giggled, covered her mouth with her fetlock, and drew closer to her sister to soak up more of her sunlight. “Do you sincerely like it? Please don’t hold back for my sake.” With a smile like Luna’s, how could Celestia ever feel disjointed? It would all work out like it always does. There was no reason to stress because there was no baby, magical or not. There was no illness, no dripping milk, no lies either. There was just Celestia and her little Luna. “Of course I do.” She pulled her in for a tight hug. Their cheeks squished together like marshmallows between graham crackers. “I suppose I was thinking aloud and, well, not thinking at all. Rabbits are supposed to be that big.” But an ambrosial body is not. She was leaking milk everywhere—she was no longer thinking about it. “Upon second thought, I think I am in the mood for that jog.” Celestia sat up to look more lively. “Are you certain? You did say you weren’t feeling—“ The blankets were ripped off of her while Celestia leaped out of bed with long sturdy legs. She pranced around her room to prove she was peachy keen. Her tail flew behind her, her tail whipped against the sun on her flank, and she’d pose in such a way to hide the dripping milk. Luckily, she was blessed with a coat that could conceal its color from a distance. “Would I, Princess Celestia, really be afflicted with illness?” It was a rhetorical question said with such hubris that one would assume she was joking. Celestia wasn’t sure if she was or not, so she continued before Luna could respond. “My body is a self healing temple, and it’s all better now, so go on and get ready! We have a beach to trample on!” She held her horn high and spread her wings like a peacock showcasing his features. It likely wasn’t fooling Luna, but this pep talk wasn’t for her sister. It was for herself. “Alright, dearest sister. We can trample on the beach, as you put it.” Luna giggled again, and Celestia fought to keep her smile.
It CravedAuthor's Note New chapter, who dis? Wow that just took me a year to write. Hahah! Anyway, major warning for the next chapter as it will involve verbal and physical abuse of an infant. It Craved They had been out for a while watching a group of ponies rollerblade and blast interesting foreign music on a boombox. Their blades had colorful feathers that left a trail in their wake, and when they’d flip on their heads, the feathers would make shapes under the hanging lanterns. Luna had been eyeing a pair of skates for a while, but the pony selling them wasn’t a pony at all, but a three headed dog who stood upright. He sucked on a pipe with one mouth, spoke to a rollerblader with another, and had his third set of eyes on the rusty wheel he oiled. Those paws of his got between crevices of the skates, his paws masterful at rubbing, and squeezing, and getting deep— “I’m not much of a Doberman kind of mare,” Luna laughed as she elbowed her hypnotized sister. “What do you mean?” “You’re drooling on yourself, Tia.” Luna stood up to continue down the boardwalk. “Seems you’re infected with a bad case of Puppy Love.” That would’ve been an odd comment to make, but Celestia realized she had been drooling all over herself. With rosy cheeks, she trotted after Luna who had her head raised towards the rising moon. A chilly breeze blew from the salty ocean, a fishy smell, but one masked by the several dozen vendors lined along the boardwalk, and scented sunscreen on lounging backs, and fruit punch in the water guns that two unicorn colts shot at bikini clad mares on the beach below. “I don’t like dogs, Lulu. I’m more of a pussy lover.” Celestia clopped a bit ahead to catch a glimpse of her sister’s expression. Luna gave her a look as if she weren’t the one who made that awful dog pun, but regardless she played dumb. “Pussy cats make for a suitable pet, I’m sure. Plenty of ponies have them.” “And play with them too…” Celestia couldn’t contain her chuckle. With a pulsating vein in her forehead, Luna rolled her eyes. “Classy,” she whispered before halting to turn in another direction. “How are you feeling now?” Luna gave her glance over her shoulder. How was she feeling? Celestia’s tail swayed back and forth, no longer a cloud but strands of hair that bounced with each step, and as it swayed it did a good job of hiding her swollen teats and their leaking milk. No one would dare peek between her legs, forget that it was a very rude thing to do, but being a former monarch added an extra layer to it. But regardless, she leaked, and her body ached, and her mind was a fog. Would she ever express any of her concerns to Luna? Of course not. “I feel like a bowl of sunshine.” On the northern beachfront, a few foreign street performers were harassing the lazing tourists with their fire breathing acts, and their small dancing monkeys, and their exotic attire from a land far away. It caught Luna’s attention as her wings spread and she reared up on the barriers of the boardwalk to get a better look below. “Tia! Would you look at that!” Luna pointed. “I’ve never seen a pony with such a long neck.” The ringleader of the cardboard circus had brown spots speckled around their body, a colorful cloak on their shoulders, and a set of two stumped horns on their head. The monkeys swung around the beast’s towering neck like firemen on a pole, and they clashed cymbals, and sang in a language unknown to any pony. “That’s no pony, Luna. That’s a giraffe.” “A giraffe?!” “Yes, and a quite short one it seems. I’ve toured the zebrian continent numerous times, ran into a fair amount of them, and these creatures can grow as tall as a three story building.” Celestia joined her on the boardwalk’s barrier. “Very fascinating,” Luna noted with a smile. “I’d love to go someday.” “Perhaps we can try for the end of this summer, otherwise the temperatures will be too hot.” Luna giggled. “That’s never been a problem for you.” “Oh, I absolutely loved it! But I know how you can get in such intense heat.” To drop the subject, as travel had increasingly become the last thing Celestia wanted to talk about, she clicked her golden horse shoes on the metal grate she stood over. Wind blew against her underbelly. There was a tightness in her breasts. “On second thought, I’m not up for that beach trample. I feel a day over a century.” Luna kept her eyes on the giraffe, and Celestia did too. “You’re far older than that. Time is catching up to you, Tia.” With all the lanterns above them, it made it difficult to see the giraffes' features—not that celestia could tell much of a difference between one and another. She wondered if a pony could successfully mate with one, and now her eyes wandered between its legs, spotting the set of balls that swung behind his thin tail. A foal with such a long neck would kill her coming out— “I think they are serving free margaritas at the Sunset Resort for the single ladies tonight.” With a teasing wink, Luna elbowed her side. “And I know you can’t resist a free drink.” “Mmmm, I’d love Sex on the Beach right about now.” Biting her lower lip, Celestia kept her eyes on the sweating swinging balls. The giraffe had noticed her staring, even turned the whole of his long neck in her direction, and immediately her face burned with embarrassment. “Let’s just go.” Celestia hopped down and started her power trot as far away from the beach as possible. “I return for order, yes?” With a bone stiff bow tie and a gelled black mane, the donkey took a bow after he placed their glasses of water on the table. Most resorts running along the northern coast tended to hire immigrants for the cheaper wages and longer work hours they could squeeze out of them. It was hardly a thing to complain about, except they often knew very little Equestrian and thus were difficult to understand. This particular waiter, despite his thick accent, could at least get his point across without much trouble. “Yes, thank you.” Luna smiled, but this waiter didn’t look at her. Though his head faced the floor, his hazel gaze was directed towards Celestia. The gawking would typically go unnoticed, considering ponies still saw her as a monarch despite her retirement, but the jackass dared to trail his gaze up to the sun stuck to her flank and said gaze stayed there for quite a while. Instead of growing justifiably upset, Celestia’s frazzled mind told her to open her legs a little to see how he’d react, and he stared where she assumed he would. He stared long enough to catch what she was doing, perhaps teasing him, perhaps in his mind it was an invitation, and by then they made eye contact. Celestia broke away towards the dark waves rolling on the opposite end of their window. He kept staring. “Do you need anything else?” Luna questioned with a tilted head. “N-no, miss madam. Please take time to decide.” With another nervous bow, he scampered off like a runt on the street. Celestia could only watch him with disgust, and yet her loins burned with curiosity. Curiosity? That couldn’t be right. Her hormones were all out of control, and she was leaking all over herself, and she was more aroused than she’d ever been. “That was odd.” “Quite.” Celestia tapped her foot. And Luna peeked under their table to make sense of the thudding. “Do you find it’s pretty chilly in here too?” Her eyes darted at the many ceiling fans hanging in the establishment. With her magic, she froze the closest three above them. “There. That should do it.” Proud of herself, Luna took her time flipping through the menu. A wide selection of hard ciders sat on display, including an apple berry punch that absolutely screamed her name, but only the margaritas were free. Who knew Luna loved a bargain, because she absolutely did. “Are you going to get your usual serving of wine-dipped cheese pickles?” With a crescent smile, Luna looked up from her menu, perhaps stewing on whether to get what her wallet needed or what her belly craved. “I still don’t know how you stomach it.” “I haven’t a clue how I stomached it either. Never again.” With soiled laundry in her mind Celestia took a sip of her water. “I don’t think I’ll be drinking tonight.” She had plenty of alcohol already, in fact she’d been drinking heavily the past few weeks—it was all part of her relaxation routine to soothe the cramps. As if that thing she birthed didn’t already have enough problems. “That’s understandable considering you aren’t feeling well.” Luna chewed on her lip as her magic reached for her own glass. She placed the menu down. “Perhaps I shouldn’t drink either.” Celestia shook her head. “Please don’t allow me to ruin your fun.” “You aren’t, Tia. Besides, I really wanted this berry cider for $22, but now we can save the bits.” Luna took a pause to drink a good quarter of her water. Refreshed, she sighed when her lips departed from the rim of her glass. “What is the zebrian continent like? Beyond the three story tall giraffes?” “Golden plains stretched as far as the eyes can see, crystal blue skies, lush treetops even taller than me.” The voice came from behind Luna. It startled both sisters and caused them to search for its owner, but it didn’t take long before they found the source. With lanky legs, the caped giraffe craned his long neck down to meet their gaze. “It’s beautiful, and do not get me started on the many cultures that reside within. We Prey live in harmony within several cities across the continent. It’s quite the melting pot.” Luna scooted closer in her seat of pillows. “Prey? Such a degrading term to refer to yourselves.” “We hardly see it that way. If anything, Predator is far worse, but I suppose they aren’t much of a threat in this country.” He took a seat if only to relieve some stress on his neck. “I am Gilaffy, a traveling businessman, and your future tour guide.“ Celestia scoffed. “Do businessmen often wear capes where you’re from?” “Try pinstripe suits, but they tend to clash with my spots.” Though a bit shy, Luna chuckled, “what flavor of business are you in? You mentioned tourism.” And her laugh only encouraged his jokes further. “Oh no, dear goddess.” With a head shake and a wink, he leaned in closer. “It’s monkey business.” Opening his cape, two macaques ran out in pinstripe suits. They held a banana to their ear and screamed into it as if holding a conversation on a telephone. Luna couldn’t contain her mirth, throwing her head back, and cackling like a wicked witch. It was hardly that funny, yet Celestia found herself smiling. The monkeys did a chronographed dance, spun on their fury heads, and with their strange little fingers, threw up confetti into the air. Then, out of his cape, Gilaffy handed his henchmen a banner to present to Celestia. It read, ‘Congratulations on Your New Bundle of Joy!’ Luna no longer laughed. “I don’t understand the joke.” Celestia didn’t either, in fact, she couldn’t react. She simply sat there like a doe at an oncoming stampede. The pressure in her breasts returned and her body burned with sweat. “Oh.” Realizing his mistake, Gilaffy gathered his monkeys back into his cape where they disappeared as if never there at all. “My apologies, I made a misguided assumption like an absolute fool.” And he was more embarrassed than Celestia. Immediately, Gilaffy stood up. “I’ll see my way out. Enjoy your dinner—“ But with her magic, Celestia grabbed his foreleg, she needingly squeezed it. “No, uh, you may stay.” Despite her magic, she could feel how sturdy his legs were despite appearing as if a light gust could snap them in two. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder how long another part of his body was, how’d it fit inside her womb, and it definitely left her confused considering her lack of interest in such things before. Like a wild teenage filly during her first cycle, her body craved exploration, it craved penetration, it craved a baby—a baby she had already delivered just hours prior, but a baby her body missed. Something was definitely wrong with her. And he was picking up her neediness from the way she lifted her tail, and spread her legs, and damn near pissed on herself right there. Their eyes met, her eyes drifted lower. She could see the head of his cock poking from his sleeve— “Celestia!” With a hard kick under the table, Luna harshly whispered, and there returned that disappointed expression from earlier. “I’m sorry, Gilaffy, but we’re going to head home.” Using her magic to place her napkin on the table, Luna stood up and gave him a not-so-polite glare that screamed ‘go away’. He nodded, respectfully bowed, but kept his gaze on Celestia as Luna pulled her away from the table. “Good night, ladies.” They hadn’t made it out the door yet when Celestia broke down into tears. “Oh my stars, Luna! I’m so so sorry!” When she was released she shoved her head in the corner of the restaurant’s front entrance. Passing patrons and staff only gave them a glance, but none dared to approach the two alicorns. All knew better than to get mixed in the affairs of a retired monarch. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I just embarrassed you! What was I thinking!?” “Tia, it’s okay.” Luna rubbed her back, but lowered her voice in hopes Celestia would follow suit. As she got closer, she noticed the moisture dripping from between her sister’s legs, and the irritation around her unusual hanging nipples. “I think I understand what is happening to you.” “You do?” Celestia sniffed but refused to turn around due to shame. “You know what happened to me?” “Yes, I know that your body isn’t used to its sudden mortality, and therefore your hormones are off-balanced as it attempts to steady itself.” She hugged her in order to get closer to her ear. “I started lactating too shortly after my return from the moon. It was a terrifying experience, but one trip to the gynecologist was all I needed to get fixed.” “Fixed!?” “Not like a dog, Tia. I mean medication to help balance your hormones,” Luna giggled. “It will also prevent you from soliciting, and trust me, a stallion will take advantage of your taxed state of mind especially if he believes he can get away with it. I’ve seen it plenty of times during my Dreamwalking, and unfortunately far too many mares are suffering in silence because of this biological error.” Luna never did care for sex and sexuality, but in more recent years she had developed a clear hatred for it—more specifically, a male's part in the devil’s tango, so it was no surprise that when she mentioned her Dreamwalking, her snout wrinkled in disgust. Celestia never thought much about mating, but now she questioned if she should feel the same way, or just give into her biological urges—urges she’d never experienced before in all her years of life. Perhaps it was an error, as Luna claimed. “We can go tomorrow morning, though I wouldn’t bother with the hospitals here. They don’t have specialists. Are you good to fly to Baltimare?” “No, I’m not good to fly at all.” Celestia rather not see a doctor at all. “I’ll send for a taxi.“ “You know, my garden has so many wonderful, magical flora, I’m sure we could find something of use. I mean, there just has to be an old earth pony remedy that would work just as good as any medication, plus it would save us the trip—“ Celestia cut herself off. Across from the host's podium stood their donkey waiter simply staring at them within earshot. When he noticed she spotted him, he pretended to be occupied with bussing a nearby table. Luna turned around to see what Celestia saw. The two silently watched, well aware that he’d been eavesdropping. Still, he kept up the act, but cleared his throat and offered a weak smile. “Leaving, miss madams?” “Um…Yes, and we thank you for your kind service thus far.” Reaching for her coin purse, Luna placed ten bits on the table. “Many thank you. Many thank you.” Again he scampered away, but not before giving Celestia a knowing glance over his shoulder.
It DreamtAuthor's Note Okay, so I lied. The previous content warning is for the next chapter, not this one. It Dreamt At the crack of midnight, as she laid her head on her sister’s lap, Luna gently brushed her wet mane. They shared a bath that night, as they often did, and not once had her sister paid the hamper any mind. It hadn’t moved, and with the spell, it made no sound. It was dark in that basket, the bathroom cold, and with no milk the thing should’ve starved. As Luna rubbed her back, Celestia couldn’t take her eyes off it. Her mind wondered what Luna would do if she pulled the baby from the hamper like a white rabbit from a top hat. Would she be as disgusted as Celestia felt every time she saw its large floppy ears and its dull face. There was no way she would believe Celestia created such an ugly thing— And yet, she longed to feed it, and hold it, and store it somewhere more safe. Oh, her sweet baby, a baby she did not want, but as she laid in bed being held with love, her heart ached for the hatred she felt towards a creature that was half of her. “Do not cry, my love,” Luna hummed, and she sang a song from a time long forgotten. It only brought more tears to Celestia’s eyes, and for a brief moment, she felt like a filly again. What a time to be alive, and to imagine she’d make it this far after all the violence, and hatred, and— “Millennia of harmony.” Luna brushed the fur on her snout. “I don’t think a better pony could’ve ruled for so long. You should be proud of yourself, sister.” Celestia raised her head. “Are you reading my thoughts?” The brush settled on the bed while Luna gathered up her sister’s colorful mane and twirled it into a messy bun. “You’re half asleep. I couldn’t help it.” Two bobby pins were stabbed in her hairdo. And Celestia’s heart skipped a beat. “What else did you see?” The hamper flashed in her mind, and though it had ties to thoughts of motherhood, she refused to directly think of her baby. With such fear in her eyes Luna couldn’t help but grow concerned. “I barely peeked,” she dared to get closer to meet Celestia’s avoidant gaze. “Your brows were so furrowed I figured I’d see why, but I understand if I crossed a boundary.” “You did, Luna,” she sobbed, yet she had no idea why she sobbed. Perhaps out of fear, perhaps shame. “Please don’t do that again.” Luna laid down, her frosty eyes blinking in suspicion. “As you wish, but only if you tell me what has you so spooked.” But her sister shook her head. “You know I would never judge you.” Luna placed a hoof on her cheek. “I only want what’s best, so tell me what’s wrong.” Celestia’s tears dried right up. She couldn’t be easily deceived, not with all her experience, but Luna was her weakness especially after she returned from her long stay on the moon.“What if it involved a stallion?” “A stallion? As in you murdered one?” And the way her brow raised in hopeful anticipation let Celestia know that Luna would, in fact, judge her if she mentioned anything short of a touchless brunch with a nameless male. “I, uh…” Celestia dropped her gaze. “Have you ever wondered about motherhood?” “Changing the subject, Tia.” Luna shook her head. “Or maybe it’s very relevant to this very subject.” The minute Celestia said that was the minute she felt more rejected than she had ever in her life. And Luna had never looked at her with such disbelief in all her life, and maybe it was all in her head, but Celestia was convinced she saw contempt—a stronger contempt than the cold gaze of Nightmare Moon. “Are you pregnant?” Luna didn’t need an answer, she had already come to her own conclusion. “Of course, but when would you have found the time?” Her mind raced for even more conclusions, and hypotheses, and theories that she would take to heart regardless of what Celestia told her. “When I go out to sip wine and paint, do you sneak stallions in here?! In our house?!” Her expression contorted into a grimace. “What? No, of course not. I attend such outings with you—all outings.” Celestia felt like a brothel whore. She covered her reddening face. “I don’t know why I mentioned any of this. It’s not true, it’s just the hormones, as you said.” It was far too late to backtrack. “Did you have relations with Captain Clash when we returned from our ski trip? Is he the father?” “Who?” Celestia had to make a great effort to even recall that pegasus’ face. How many ex soldiers accompanied them on their many travels? Far too many to count, but both sisters tended to ditch their bodyguards the second they reached their desired destinations. Captain Clash had to be the maroon stallion pulling that particular chariot on that particular day if only because he was the sole pegasus who held the rank. There were about four guards accompanying him, all of which were male, and some of which were younger with better stamina. If put in a life or death situation and forced to pick one, Captain Clash wouldn’t be first choice. “What makes you think I had anything to do with him?” “When we arrived at the Hot Spring, and when I came out of the bathroom, why did I find you two alone together?” Luna cut her eyes to spot any signs of deception. “I’m not doing this, Luna—“ “So it’s true!” She jumped out of their shared bed to trot around the room with high steps, pacing as if to solicit a challenge. “Oh, I just knew it even back then!” “You weren’t gone for five minutes. How quick do you think a stallion can be?” “You’d be surprised, especially when we’re talking about a pegasus.” And she huffed at that, upset as if Celestia had personally betrayed her by being so-called intimate with this male. “You’re supposed to be pure.” Celestia rolled her eyes. “You don’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, do you?” For a moment they both said nothing—one all tensed up, and the other remorseful towards an act she had no part in. Then, after some time, Luna slumped, and she swayed her head. With a snort, she got back into the bed, and she grabbed both sides of Celestia’s face with her hooves. “Please, just give me the whole truth and nothing short of it.” Luna caught her eyes, and as she stared, Celestia felt the hypnosis her sister was attempting to lul her into. The second she fell asleep Luna would have free rein to explore whatever concerns sat heavy in her mind though her dreams. Such forceful magic wasn’t a thing Luna practiced often, if at all. Right now, she expelled all of her strength to break through Celestia’s mental defenses. “Stop, Luna!” The sun goddess shrieked as she violently yanked her head back, but Luna had an ironclad grip on her skull. Her horn glowed, but Celestia decided against using magic on her own little sister, so instead, they wrestled on the bed. Celestia thrashed about, and Luna used more magic to tame the beast, and yet there was an unsaid knowledge between them that Celestia wouldn’t retaliate. Luna took full advantage, laying on top of her, pinning her down with her body, and forcing her into sleep. Soon the sun goddess fell, and only after her body went limp, did Luna let her go to join her in the land of slumber. Run. It was the only thing on her little mind. Run and don’t look back. She went as fast as her legs could take her, and her legs burned, and they were so sore, but she didn’t stop running. She couldn’t stop running. The halls were as long as the spine of a serpent. And on this snake’s back were multiple dead ends, and dead starts, and dead in betweens that running seemed pointless, but running was all she could do. And this maze of chaos wasn’t new. He liked to dangle her freedom from a string. It was no fun if things were impossible, if she felt too hopeless, and Celestia was all too aware of this fact too. “Oh, where! Oh, where! Oh, where are you?!~” his singsong voice echoed throughout the catacombs. It shook the walls. It made the ground beneath her tremble, but she couldn’t stop pushing forward, especially when a light burned at the end of this tunnel. Yet his shadow surpassed her, it had a mind of its own, and his shadow pointed and laughed on her left. It taunted her, just evil with an exposed tongue. She kicked it, it shattered like glass, and Celestia then galloped harder. “Oww! Now that wasn’t very nice!~” The exit was a yard away. A large red sign sprouted from the checkerboard tile. It pointed at the white light as if to mock her, and then was when she noticed the steel cage awaiting her instead of a way out. Celestia made a sharp turn, her hooves struggled not to skid. The shadow reappeared behind her, but it went the opposite way, seeming to miss her altogether. With a heavy heart, she allowed her tears to fall. She’d never be free, the games would never stop no matter how much she tried. If only her wings were large enough to lift her body off the ground, if only she could fly away— The tile split beneath her small hooves as the long coiling body of her captor shoved through the narrow tunnels, crumbling the walls, and collapsing the ceiling behind him. She hated when he took a more dragonic form as it hurt more when he did bad things compared to when he took his sillier shape. This one, the ‘hydra’, scared her far more than the one he titled ‘devil’. “There you are, my sweet filly,” the creature hissed a pleasurable moan. “Don’t run, you know how much I crave the chase! I only want to play!~” The voice of many puked from his twisted head. From a deep baritone to a mouse’s squeak, they all blended into mayhem, a chaotic serenade sang just for her. Celestia made the mistake of looking back, and when she did, she saw his large jaws burst through an archway to her right. His mismatched front legs dragged his large serpentine body at a speed she could not out pace. Stone collapsed from the ceiling in front of her. When Celestia staggered to a clumsy stop, the hall started to spin. It went round and round like the innards of a typhoon, and her hooves were no longer on solid ground, but she was floating in midair. In the mists of this storm, she saw the hydra at the bottom of the pit, just misshapen and contorted into knots. “Round n’ round the little mare went. Pop! Goes the weasel. With eyes so wide she couldn’t be spent. Pop! Goes the weasel~” a tune began to play but where the source came from was unclear. His mouth never moved, this voice was unfamiliar, just one out of his many. “You run, and cry, but dry your eyes! Pop! Goes the weasel—!” “No, my lord! Please, no more!” She screamed, hoping that her show of reverence would encourage him to go away. It did the opposite, as this reality sat upside down, and a god of disorder did not have to oblige by any rules nor logic. “Pity. You interrupted the rhythm.” Celestia could do nothing but stare into the light emitted from the monster’s agaped mouth. Razor teeth and a slit tongue both waved her forward, but she knew he had no intentions of eating her. No, he was a different sort of predator, so what he wanted was far worse. “In we go, dear~” his eyes smiled as he cooed gleefully. “Right where you belong.” Not a sound left her. Not a peep as her body was forced closer and closer towards his jaws. The thought to run sat prevalent in her young mind—the thought to run was the only thing on her mind. Her body did not move. She could only stare into the light. “Tia,” a voice called out, very close. It was just above her. It was soft. It was Luna. “Tia, I finished with your mane. Thought I’d give you a fish tail to go with your tan.” Celestia opened her eyes. A pair of sunglasses were lifted from her face with a cloud of dark magic. She could better see the underside of her sister’s chin, and the solar eclipse that covered one third of the starry sky. A sea of still water sat beneath them, a mirror to gaze into, a mirror to submerge themselves in, yet they laid on top of the surface as if the water was simply silk sheets. “Luna,” Celestia cried with a trembling bottom lip. “Luna, why would you do that to me?” “I didn’t think that would happen.” In a poof of magic, a handheld mirror materialized out of thin air. The night alicorn aimed it at Celestia’s mane to give her a chance to look. Luna leaned down and kissed her at the top of the head, avoiding her large horn in the process. “What do you think?” Celestia didn’t care about her hairdo, so she pushed the mirror away, and she repeated herself more clearly. “How could you force me to remember that?” She covered her face from the gaze of the sun and moon. “Because,” Luna’s voice lacked an ounce of emotion. “Because I needed you to remember why males are bad for you, Tia. You don’t need to open yourself to them. You can get plenty of affection from me without having to worry about doing all that awful stuff to your body.” “I don’t know. I don’t even know what happened to me.” A calming wave tumbled over their laying bodies, washing their hooves in cold water. “I don’t know, Luna.” “Where is the baby?” And the emotionlessness in Luna’s voice graduated to something tender, something soft. But Celestia wouldn’t be fooled that easily and reveal such a damning secret like the birth of her mule. “I don’t have a baby.” “The body never lies.” Another wave washed over them. “It keeps score of every scar, every cell, every life it creates. It told me everything I needed to know, so where is it?” Celestia didn’t want to tell her, she didn’t even want to think about it. “She’s dead, Luna.” The waves grew larger, more hectic as dark clouds formed beneath the lunar eclipse. And as the winds blew, and as the sea rocked with unforgiving rage, Celestia shut her eyes in the hopes of waking up. “My baby is dead.”
It TookAuthor's Note Major content warning ahead for abuse of an infant. It Took In the dark she stared at the hamper. Luna claimed they had a busy day ahead of them: a fly to Baltimare to get her fixed in the morning, lunch with Cadance and Flurry Heart at noon, and then a show they’ll catch when they return home in the evening. Quite a busy day with no time to herself. Now was Celestia’s time to herself. After waking from their shared dream, her little sister made no effort to stop her from leaving the room, in fact, it felt as if she wanted her to go. How embarrassed she felt towards the current situation she found herself in, but there was no changing the past. All Celestia could hope to manage was finding out exactly what was done to her and who was responsible. Such a task shouldn’t be too difficult for a goddess. But perhaps a small part of her didn’t want to know the details. Perhaps she found comfort in her ignorance, since as long as she didn’t know she wouldn’t have to act once the truth was revealed. Would a side of her that was long buried since the time of war and grief resurface and would she handle this situation as cruelly as she could manage? Or would she break down like last night, like when she were a foal trapped for an unknown amount of time by a wicked god of lunacy? Maybe she’d react in a way she couldn’t predict, maybe she wouldn’t be upset but curious to know how a stallion managed to inseminate her without her knowledge—and how she couldn’t possibly have known she was pregnant the whole for months. Celestia very gently shut the bathroom door—a room saturated with perfumes, incense and air fresheners hours beforehand. The clashing fragrances were so strong that she couldn’t smell the fur below her nostrils. But that was good. It meant the smell of birth was suffocated from the atmosphere and therefore Luna would remain none the wiser. As she stepped forward, there lacked urgency in her movements, instead she took her time approaching the hamper. Curiously, she released her spells as she listened for a cry. Silence. Celestia tilted her head while she slowly lifted the lid. Where to store the body?—that was the first thing to come to mind. Could she just teleport it away to become another creature’s problem? Should she cast it in the ocean and hope a group of crustaceans grew fat from its carcass? That might be the best course of action, and if it’s body happened to wash up on shore she was certain some immigrant would be blamed. With her magic, she lifted the newborn by a single limb from the towel it was haphazardly wrapped in. What she expected was a dead dangling baby, what she found was a living thing mindlessly straining its small eyes to make out the world it newly found itself in. Though it hung upside down, it didn’t cry, which couldn’t be typical for a foal, even one as ugly and as dull as this one. Celestia laid down on her side, slightly lifted her hind leg, and brought its head towards her nipples. She couldn’t figure out why she didn’t just disregard it back in the hamper, or better yet, the crab infested ocean even if it was still alive. It wasn’t like she wanted to keep the thing—not at all. What would she look like strolling around with the ugliest foal in the land dragging behind her? “Eat, damnit,” the former princess growled as it refused to latch onto her teets, instead mindlessly staring at them like it lacked a functioning brain. With magic, she parted its lips and pushed its snout against the leaking milk. It did not latch on. Perhaps it was dead and the staring had been a result of simple muscle spasms. When she dropped it on the floor, its legs didn’t move, and its chest barely expanded. What was the point? In a few moments it would pass on, and that was for the best— Celestia began licking the creature clean, and during this tongue bath she realized it had urinated all over itself in the basket. Such a revelation should’ve caused her to stop in absolute disgust, but she kept licking to stimulate the parasite, moving purely on instinct. And with her warm snout, she pushed the foal closer towards her body, sharing her heat, and melting the thing from its stupor. It wasn’t long before its head moved in search of food, and once it did she guided it towards the source. With luck, it finally clung on and wolfishly drank its first meal. Celestia stopped licking to observe. The more milk it sucked from her teets, the more relieved she felt like bursting a troublesome pimple or draining her bladder. And the tiny sounds it made as it pawed on her stomach to worm closer to its meal, as it shut its eyes to rest—it sent odd pleasant tingles up her spine. For a moment she didn’t feel so disgusted at the appearance of it, for a moment she gladly welcomed the suckling. Her body no longer burned in defiance as it was given the baby it was promised—this wouldn’t last, it couldn’t seeing as she wanted nothing to do with it. So Celestia would not keep such a despicable parasite who dared to worm its way in her body, but if the feeding quenched her for the time being, she’d continue to do so until she was fixed. The sun had long resurfaced in the sky by the time Celestia woke up on the bathroom floor. The beast had a runny bowel movement sometime in the night that had smeared all over her beautiful white coat painting it an off-green. Disgusted that it would ever do such a thing after she allowed it to feast on her, Celestia stood up. “You dirty vermin!” It was lifted in the air by its foot, and with magic, she harshly tapped on its rump a few times as punishment. The beast shook, startled, but it still made no sound. “You must be broken.” She grabbed its big ears next, twisted it in an unnatural direction, and that did it. The parasite made a sound, just a small gasp like a fish out of water, but still no wail. It was flipped around while Celestia searched for a power source. Perhaps it was a robot after all, a voodoo doll, or a living spell—an illusion. But like a robot, this thing would need a constant supply of magic to keep up the facade—and illusions had no bodily functions. No, the foal was alive, flesh and blood, which left Celestia with one of two options. Both options technically were the same thing; she was impregnated magically via artificial insemination likely caused by a sort of teleportation of some lowlife wizard’s spermatozoa—something she thought of beforehand—or she was impregnated “naturally” via a forced mating. In other words, raped in her sleep. Either way, the foal still had her DNA, and his DNA, even if she didn’t know the father. And said father was undoubtedly a— “Just ugly, and broken, and who knows what sort of creature you are! You’re no pony!” In her fit of rage, she used its dull body to clean its shit off her coat before it was thrown back in the dark hamper. The basket swiveled on its axis then rocked to a stop. Celestia backed away to keep her eyes on the little demon, huffing with a dying fury, but soon she calmed herself. Pausing with raised ears that listened for any disturbances in the home, Celestia waited. It appeared Luna had not yet risen despite the day’s busy schedule. Either way, the lid of the hammer was once again opened as Celestia approached to take a peek inside. Like a sad useless little thing, the parasite squirmed over the pile of dirty laundry. It’s left hind leg was bent out of place, yet it still made no more than a pathetic gasp. Celestia picked it up again, adjusted its limb, and felt around for any broken bones. Its cartilage felt as flexible as curling rods and there didn’t appear be a break anywhere. “If you don’t speak how will I ever know you’re in distress?” She asked it as if it spitefully muted itself to get under her skin. “Cry already,” her voice came out more desperate than she intended. Her useless parasite remained silent. To avoid another spike of frustration, she hovered it towards the bathtub, turned on the faucet, and stepped inside as the water gathered around them. Slowly she lowered the thing in the tub and watched as the bath grew higher and higher and its body floated above it. It gasped again, its small eyes opening to make out the new sounds and sensations. Celestia grabbed a bar of soap and a rag to scrub the shit from its dull coat. Dried afterbirth and blood had tangled itself in hard to reach spots; behind the foal's ears, between its hindquarters, in the cusps of its short neck—all thoroughly removed. She cleaned the parasite on its back using magic to steady its body and keep it afloat. It wasn’t long before its fur was soft and sudsy. “You’re so quiet.” Regardless of how gentle or how rough Celestis handled it, it still remained silent, only granting her a brief reaction. A mouse’s sigh, a voiceless call. She brought its chest up to her ear, and despite feeling its rapid heartbeat, she didn’t hear it. “I casted the spell on you and not that basket,” Celestia concluded before swiftly removing her magic from the foal’s vocal cords. Again, she brought its chest to her ear, and this time she could hear its heartbeat, but it still did not cry. Oddly, a strong feeling of grief overwhelmed her. Celestia cared not for this parasite, yet she wanted it to behave like a normal foal perhaps in fear that if it were broken then it would reflect badly on her. So she dunked its body under the water to initially wash the soap off, but as it did not struggle while submerged, she considered holding it down there to put it out of its misery. To rid herself of this broken problem. But as bubbles surfaced from its snout, and as it looked at her from below the water, Celestia noticed that it shared her eyes—and it had a soft golden glow around its pupils. An ugly plain mule would never have magic, not like a unicorn, and definitely not like her; a goddess. But maybe what she saw was her own reflection in the gaze of this thing she birthed. Quickly, Celestia pulled it up from the bath, laid it on its stomach in a gentle cloud of magic, and rubbed its back to encourage it to spit up water. Luna hadn’t been asleep soundly in her room, she left sometime early that morning without saying a word to Celestia. A note didn’t remain, a scroll wasn’t sent, not even a telephone call. Maybe she was out doing the day’s tasks without her. Maybe she decided against getting Celestis fixed. Perhaps it was for the best since now she laid in the living room overlooking the view of crashing waves, and sunscreen-covered tourists, as the parasite buried itself between her hind legs to drink. “You’re a greedy pest, aren’t you?” She hadn’t meant to coo, but found that her voice would soften whenever talking to it. “You’ll be plump before I know it.” With such little effort on its part, it began to slip, losing its grip on her teets, and slumping onto the side of the couch like a fallen banner. Celestia rolled onto her back as if in the middle of a dust bath, and with her magic she lifted her parasite right back onto her stomach. She found great pleasure observing it hound about for its food source, sniffing at the drying milk mangled in her underbelly’s fur, and attempting to feed from it. Celestia laughed. Using her magic, she squeezed her breasts to see if more milk geysered out, and if it could find its way to food like the greedy pig that it was. This little science experiment found some success. Her parasite did, in fact, sniff out the food as it stretched its neck out as far as it could reach, and as it opened its mouth for a desperate suckle. Unlike the foals of old—foals who were able to get up and gallop only hours after birth, the ones of today were completely reliant on their mothers for quite a while. If Celestia decided to leave it there on the couch and never return, it couldn’t travel on its own to find food, to flee danger, to live. It’d die shortly afterwards. The parasite squirmed, and it tried to drag itself to the milk just out of reach, but it simply hadn’t the strength to do so. “You’ll need to try harder if you wish to eat,” she teased, and Celestia watched as her vermin gasped, struggled, and stretched its neck the most it could manage, but it could not get to its meal. Perhaps in her mind she figured that through enough frustration the little mule would finally cry out for her help, but a minute had passed, and then another, and instead of wailing for her it simply gave up. Frozen and hardly breathing like early that morning when she picked it out of the hamper, it rested its head against her stomach, defeated. One thing was for certain, it lacked an ass’ stubborn determination. How uneventful, is what she thought. How lazy and so uninspired. Half of her wanted to tap its rump again as punishment for not trying harder, but she figured a meal cut short was punishment enough. Using magic to lift it by the dock of its tail, Celestia rolled over on her large davenport to stretch her long legs. “Where should I hide you? Back in that basket? In the ottoman near the fireplace? Or maybe in the trash can in the kitchen.” That wasn’t a bad idea. In the trash is where she should put it, yet she found she couldn’t do that. Maybe the trash was too harsh. “No, I know where to put you.” Celestia sat up and climbed off the couch and towards a closet in the front hallway with the parasite magically at tow. When she reached her destination, she swung the doors open to retrieve— A knock on the front door interrupted her search. Celestia’s ears stood at attention along with her wings as she listened for who that could be. Luna would simply let herself in, and they weren’t expecting visitors. The memory of where she sent her placenta crossed her mind. Twilight could be waiting to ask her very serious questions after she surely traumatized her poor dragon. They knocked again, not harshly like an officer, but it was very light. Light as if to conceal a secret. She saw their silhouette through the small lace curtain over the door’s decorative window. Slowly, the parasite was lowered out of potential view as the last thing needed was a stranger asking questions, so underneath her barrel was where the vermin hid. “Hello?” Celestia cracked the door open just enough to see who stood on their welcome mat, but not enough for them to see beyond her head. Her sights landed on butter squash fur speckled with cocoa brown. “Gilaffy?” “Princess,” the bull bowed, his eyes on her, her eyes on him. There contact was intense, passionate even. She could smell his musk and knew his exact desires for her. “Are you here alone?” Having freshly nursed, and with a foal beneath her, Celestia found his unsaid advances unappealing. Last night she’d gladly lift her tail for him, but right now? “Uh, well, I am…” she should’ve lied, but a large part of her felt confident in her ability to defend herself if he got to handsy. She was a goddess after all, and what was he but a simple, magicless, giraffe. “Good.” Gilaffy slightly raised his long sturdy neck. “May I come in?”
It WeptAuthor's Note Merry Christmas! And another major content warning for this chapter. It Wept The tray of tea sat on the marble coffee table, his cup untouched, hers perched to her lips as she sipped eagerly in order to avoid daunting eye contact. They’d been sitting in silence for the past five minutes. Celestia had nothing to say, and he only seemed interested in gawking at her heavenly glory. After a while she needed to fill in the dead air lest she get lost in counting every spot on his body. “So do you have family waiting for you back home?” Celestia peeled her lips from the rim of her mug. “A wife and calf perhaps?” Through her many travels she knew how certain males of his caliber behaved. A family here, a family there, and neither any the wiser. How any creature could be so content in creating multiple broken homes was beyond her. Gilaffy chuckled. “No, princess,” he finally grabbed his cup to catch a taste of the chamomile. “I journeyed here alone at 15.” “15? That’s fairly young. Did your parents not accompany you?” As she rested with her rump facing away from him, and surrounded by far too many pillows than were necessary, she used her magic to adjust the throw flung over her foam. Hidden beneath it was the parasite still seeking to drink her dry even in its deep sleep. In this instance she allowed it to rest peacefully at her expense since her guest was still none the wiser of this problem that attached itself to her life. “Unfortunately, my parents had passed a long time ago.” His gaze fell. Celestia lowered her tone to pay respects, “I’m sorry for your loss.” It’s been millennia since she was a foal. At this stage in her life she couldn’t recall if she ever had a biological mother or if she was simply birthed from the sun itself. At this stage, it mattered none. She had transcended the life cycle of a normal mortal. “That is alright. If anything it inspired me to be there for the family I’ll one day create.” He drank the tea and kept his eyes on her. On their faux leather loveseat, his front legs crossed as he laid like a panther in the bush. They were fortunate to have such high ceilings, and such large windows to brighten their tropical home, so Gilaffy had plenty of room. He could stretch out his neck and reach her from all the way on the opposite couch. “The sun truly shines on you, princess, no matter the time of day.” With a growing smile, his gaze wandered. “In my village you and your land were described as such a magical place. I’ve been here for a few years now and it’s everything I could’ve ever imagined,” he sipped again. “You are everything I imagined.” Celestia never could turn down a compliment, but she didn’t like the way he gawked at her—not in reverence, not at all. Rather as a fanboy meeting his favorite pinup model for the first time. Regardless, she was far too polite to address her discomfort. “I appreciate your kind words, Gilaffy, and Equestria is honored to have you migrate to our great nation.” Celestia placed her own cup down with her magic. They fell into a moment of silence, the breeze from the open window being the sole thing to fill the white noise. Still, he continued to stare at her. Now Celestia had her eyes everywhere but on him. What to say, she thought. What to possibly do to distract from this awkward situation? Perhaps it was time for him to go? Then the parasite stirred under the blanket as its lips slipped from its meal. With such a rude awakening, it's dull little body tried to reattach itself to her teets with no luck. Gilaffy watched the strange movements with a tilted head. “We have a cat,” Celestia lied. By the expression on his face he appeared to believe her, until the parasite chose then—of all times, to make its first sound. And what a voice it had on it. With one loud wail, it cried for more food as if it hadn’t been eating all day. Gilaffy blinked. Celestia nervously cleared her throat, “my apologies—“ “So my assumptions were correct,” he stood up from his seat to get a little closer toward her. “You do have a foal.” As he sniffed around her blanket, Celestia oddly found herself feeling uneasy, cautious toward him, and following his every step. The closer he got, the more she felt instinctively compelled to nip at him—which is exactly what she did when he poked his snout beneath the throw. Her teeth got him on the ear. Just one sharp bite as a warning. Gilaffy backed up and not out of surprise or fear. Of course it hurt and he understood this nonverbal communication completely. But the more the foal cried, the more he was drawn back in. “She’s beautiful,” he circled around the couch for another opening. “But I was not expecting a mule.” This appeared to please him. Perhaps in his mind he was given confirmation that Celestia was curious about males of a differing species—not that a donkey was as far removed from a pony as a giraffe. “Are you still mated?” Celestia dragged the parasite from under the blanket as she adjusted herself to rest on all four legs. She brought the wailing problem directly below her chin, and not as a way to soothe it, but rather to make distance between it and him. Not that it mattered since he too followed the thing to where she attempted to conceal it. “I’m not mated, no…and I don’t want to be.” Celestia could stab him in the eye with her horn by how close he hovered above her. It wouldn’t take much to end him even without magic, but Celestia found this little interaction between them intriguing. She was giving clear signs of disinterest, yet he kept pushing, perhaps believing that the more he persisted, the more he pretended to acknowledge her parasite, she would eventually become receptive. That wouldn’t happen, but Celestia would gladly welcome the entertainment. She whipped her tail against the sun on her flank to coax his attention on it. Gilaffy found more interest in the foal buried under her resting chin. “I have a good strategy to silence her,” he whispered as he blew hot air in Celestia’s pulled back mane through his nostrils. “May I show a demonstration?” “Not if said strategy involves killing it.” She was all too aware of what a horny male was capable of if he desired to mate with the mother, and though such infanticide was rare in Equestria, there was no accounting for the customs in his country. But Gilaffy laughed instead. “Such a cute filly? Of course not! I only wish to make her feel good.” “How so?” Celestia lifted her head and that was all the in he needed. Using his snout, he unraveled the screaming parasite’s legs to lick its torso with his dark long tongue. It wormed up to its little ears, tickling the inside, and causing Celestia to giggle at the sight of such a strange muscle. “How peculiar,” she lifted a bit higher to give me more room to work his magic. Not that her parasite was grateful for it seeing as it continued to bawl. So his tongue traveled downward towards her soft feathery hooves. He blew on each which caused the thing’s little eyes to expand as it shook—startled by this new sensation. It paused its cry for just a moment to soak in this discovery, logged it in its memory bank for future reference, then continued to rattle the glass case on the coffee table with its reddening face. “She’s quite expressive for being so young,” Gilaffy licked his lips. Celestia had enough of it and its demands. “Its already spoiled rotten! I have no idea where this sickening behavior came from.” He looked at her as if they weren’t both speaking the same language. “She’s behaving as expected,” and he raised a curious eyebrow at the former princess. “To me at least. Babies cry, it’s what they do.” Not wanting to come across as psychopathic, or perhaps realizing just how ridiculous she sounded, Celestia stopped glaring at the parasite to offer him a soft smile. “Yes, of course.” A reasonable creature might’ve backed off by now, but Gilaffy—sensing Celestia’s distance from her foal, doubled down. He returned to licking it, only his tongue wandered, and soon it found itself nestled between the hindquarters of the filly. He discreetly pressed his lips against her vagina, paused, and waited to gauge Celestia’s reaction. Whatever new assumptions he made about her had seemingly been found correct as Celestia made no move to stop him. In fact, she didn’t move at all. So he kissed between its legs again, this time allowing his rough tongue to slip between the foal’s folds. This got it to cease crying altogether as it once again attempted to understand the new sensations. So he kept going, getting more bold with each passing second, until he was fully performing oral on the newborn. And Celestia laid there and watched it happen. She noticed his erect penis glisten between his legs. This act was turning him on more than any of her unsaid advances—which made him an odd individual—a predator even. No pony should feel compelled to wolfishly suck on the privates of a foal as he did at that moment. Yet Celestia was close enough to feel the sweat drip from his long neck, to feel the muscles moving beneath as he drank the moisture from her parasite, and still she made no effort to stop him. It wasn’t malicious. In those moments Celestia wasn’t thinking about the worst way to punish the parasite, she was simply thinking of nothing at all, caught in a stupor. Maybe so shocked that he’d do something so horrendous that it left her paralyzed. Maybe her brain simply shut itself off so she wouldn’t have to deal with it. This went on for several more minutes. In the silence of the room his slurping echoed in her ears. She watched the parasite’s face to gauge how it felt, to understand why it would stop crying. Was his tongue pleasant for it? Did it hurt? Did it feel like nothing at all? Its face wouldn’t tell, but there was a sadness in its eyes that even Celestia knew no foal that young should harbor. He came on their decorative jute rug, staining the beige material in clumps of white. Gasping, Gilaffy plucked his lips from the foal’s vagina, satisfied with what he had done. It didn’t cry again, not for milk, not for comfort, not for Celestia—its mother. “There we go.” He licked the excess from around his snout. “I calmed her right down just like I said I would.” Gilaffy felt proud of himself as if he truly did her a favor, and one she would have to repay. “I’m always willing to do it again, princess, if she gives you too much trouble.” In her automation, she bid him farewell, she gathered the tea tray, she cleaned the parasite in the kitchen sink. In her automation, it was simply, it used no brain function. In her automation, her trance, she did not have to think about what had just happened. The parasite’s fur had parted around its genitals, the skin underneath visible, and a large hickey consumed the circumference of her vagina. The image of it broke her from her automation. Celestia realized the extent of what Gilaffy had done, what she stood back and allowed to transpire. All her reign she had been an advocate for her littlest ponies. How could she have let that happen? Her hooves shook then, they shook so badly, shook like they wanted to free themselves of this wicked vessel they found themselves glued to. “No, that’s not right,” Celestia rejected such a notion that she was evil for what had happened since she didn’t know he would’ve done that, and she didn’t encourage it, she didn’t put her lips on the parasite—it was all Gilaffy! “You are barely a few days old. You’ll never remember this,” and though she spoke to it, those words were for herself. It would never remember it. This wouldn’t affect it—not at all. Using a rag and warm water, she scrubbed the sticky lines of his spit from its fur. It tangled itself in the parasite’s dull fur making it dirty in more ways than one. The rag only brushed the hickey but that was enough to startle the thing before it cried at the top of its lungs. “Quiet won’t you!” Celestia snapped, but the mule kept going with flailing limbs. “First you don’t speak but now you won’t shut up? Are you trying to torture me!?” It cried some more. She huffed, frustrated, upset. So very mad at herself, at it, and at Gilaffy for putting her in this position. With magic, the parasite was made to sit upright like a dog as she wiped its back down to its tail. Peeking below the base of its dock, she noticed the bruising around the anus, and realized he’d licked her there too. Though, the scene looked far worse than the hickey left on its budding marehood. Celestia lifted it out of the water to properly inspect the area. There was no doubt in her mind that Gilaffy inserted his sandpaper tongue inside it, but why didn’t she notice this? She was laying right there, right in front of it all. Celestia attempted to clean the injured as gently as she could manage. Gentle wasn’t gentle enough as the parasite’s wail transformed into one of deep distress which triggered an intense sense of panic within her. “You’re in pain?” It was more of an observation than a question. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” In her panic she started to cry as well, just overwhelmed with her own guilt and uncertain of what to do and how to fix it. This shouldn’t be a hard problem to solve. Celestia served as Princess for over two thousand years, and during that time she had judged multiple cases with similar circumstances. On the throne she was wise, confident, but in her retirement Celestia felt like a whole different pony. While still holding power, the stress of keeping her nation together would be motivation enough for her to make a just decision. But now? “Are you hungry?” Celestia bawled along with the foal, and the more it called on its mother to make the pain go away, the more the temperature raised. “Come, eat, eat.” She laid down and lifted her leg to give the foal access, but as she magically brought it toward her breasts, it found more interest in straining its vocal cords than leaching from her. “You don’t think I know how you feel? You don’t think I’m trying to make it go away?!” The kitchen got so hot the water in the sink began to boil and the kettle on the stovetop screeched. “I know! I’m sorry! Just please calm down,” she was begging the parasite at this point. What did it expect her to do? Just zap the bad feelings away— She could, in fact, zap the bad feelings away. Encasing the parasite in a cool soothing bubble, Celestia casted a spell to drain the hurt from its body by silencing its pain receptors. She couldn’t simply heal the damage on and around its genitalia as any magically mended injury must be transferred somewhere else, and seeing as she was the only pony nearby she would inevitably inherit the wounds. Selfishly, scornfully, that wasn’t a sacrifice Celestia was willing to make. “There you go. That feels better, doesn’t it?” The bubble gently rocked back and forth as the parasite calmed down in its relief. Resting on its stomach, the sound of her voice, and the exhaustion that came with wailing with all its might, put it straight to sleep. “That’s it. Rest now.” Celestia’s own tears subsided. Her mind no longer ached for her to tend to this parasite, and so as she relaxed the kitchen cooled down from her solar fire. But no amount of soothing would excuse the mistake she made that day. How stupid, how useless, and hateful could she be to— “I’m sorry. I'm so so sorry.” While staring into the bubble at a creature so small, so helpless, she wondered how she could’ve ever allowed Gilaffy to harm it.
It BlewAuthor's Note Happy Valentine’s Day! To celebrate, here is Celestia going supernova. It Blew The longing she endured could snatch the breath from her lungs. Alone, again, and after their long awaited reunion. Days had passed, yet Luna still hadn’t returned home. The thought that her sister, under her grief for Celestia’s innocence, had abandoned her for good—She couldn’t take it this time, not while her mind had already begun to crack. They were soulmates, a yin and yang, quite literally day and night. Before there was Equestria, before there were ponies who could tell the stars apart from the flames that ravaged the land, there were the Two Sisters bounded by the cosmos. When Luna was away on the moon Celestia could still feel her beating heart. Through their shared magic she could hold her close to comfort her, and when she changed day into night, Luna’s presence became even stronger. So she tried hard to dream that night in hopes of her dearest sister passing by. Luna never came. By the time Twilight raised the sun, Celestia still found herself alone with no one but her own thoughts and a wicked little parasite leeching from her. “I hate you,” she growled at it, tugging it by the root of its scalp to punish it for daring to nurse from her. “I hate you!” She’d scream as it wailed back when she hit it for no reason in particular. Hadn’t it realized she made for a bad host? Hadn’t it realized it was better off slithering to a mare who’d actually want to keep it. Yet, when she’d calm down and when her body would demand relief from the curse it placed on her, she’d allow the thing to feed. She’d allow it to squirm closer towards her, its tormentor, in search of comfort and heat. And she’d allow it to sleep as long as it stayed quiet. Another day passed, and still no word from her sister. By day four, Celestia hadn’t left the house once as she’d spent her time fast asleep in hopes that the more she dreamt, the higher the chance of Luna visiting. She begged for her sister’s attention, craved it more than she craved anything else, but everytime she felt Luna’s presence, the parasite would interfere with its awful cry. Celestia would wake up, piping mad, and she’d shake it. “Shut up!” She’d screech in its face until it stopped. Then she’d drop it back on the bed, roll over, and return to sleep. Maybe Luna knew what she had done, maybe she bore witness to it in the perverse memories of Gilaffy, and surely she saw Celestia there, watching as if turned to stone. Those were nightmares she’d have, plagued by that memory, forced to relive it. Except now Luna stood by staring at her with such sorrow. “I’m sorry,” Luna turned her head as she refused to look at her. The parasite woke her out of yet another restless sleep. Celestia rolled over to find its face as red as its privates after they were scrubbed clean from giraffe spit. It was covered in its own sweat and urine and its breathing was labored, more than usual. She touched it’s sunken stomach with her hoof, only to feel the intense heat brewing beneath its patchy rough fur. She could see its ribcage, a parasite barely fed enough to stay alive, and as tiny as a standard teddy bear. That was unusual for a pony foal, but the parasite was an ugly mule. “What!?” Celestia barked at it, her mane frazzled, her gaze wild from anger. “What do you want from me!? What do you possibly want me to do!?” She picked the parasite up by its large ears only to have it weakly wail even harder. With how desperately it flailed about, it was clear this was a creature begging for its life—to be fed, to be nurtured, to have its pain go away. “All you do is eat! All you ever do is eat!” She hadn’t fed it in several hours, perhaps even yesterday morning, or late night the day prior? Celestia couldn’t recall. “Shut your mouth and I’ll feed you.” Despite its young mind, it closed its trap only to stare at her as if it thought she were crazy. They both stared at each other, her heaving with brewing rage, the parasite quivering as if she were a griffin intent on eating it alive. Celestia pinched its ears. It gasped only to flail with its red wet face, screaming for a benevolent god to hear its pleas of mercy. Its prayers had been answered via a knock on the front door. Celestia was broken from her angry trance to gaze towards the hallway. Entering a new trance altogether, she dropped the parasite on the bed and carefully stepped over as her mind thought of nothing beyond answering that door. Luna had returned, a thought claimed. Yes, that sounded about right. But Celestia knew her sister’s presence, their magic magnetic, and this pull was nothing at all like Luna’s. Celestia paused her trot a foot from the door. Suddenly she was made all too aware of herself and her surroundings. She heard the parasites cry, heard the puddle of water that formed in the kitchen, and saw the silhouette beyond the drawn curtains over the door’s window. “Twilight,” her lips felt dry. “Twilight why were you casting a spell on me?” “Please, Princess, open the door.” Her magic seeped through the walls like the running faucet in the kitchen. A pony wouldn’t see it, but Celestia could regardless if Twilight made her horn sparkle or not. It oozed out of her, such an effect usually being reserved for ancient artifacts that would turn a creature mad just by brief contact, yet Twilight controlled it as well as a pegasus controlled the direction of their flight. Celestia took a few steps back. Twilight quickly withdrew her magic. “We missed you at brunch a few days ago. I wanted to discuss it with you.” Celestia slowly spread her wings with all intentions of grabbing the parasite and making an— “Don’t…princess…I want to tell you about Luna and where she’s been.” Those were the magic words. Celestia dashed forward, but only poked her head through the door. Standing on their welcome mat with a warm smile, Twilight stood alone. “No army?” She asked as her eyes searched the trees for guards waiting to receive the command to act. Twilight shook her head, her mane free of its crown. “May I come in?” She waited, as polite as a vampire when he’d make such a request. The sound of the parasite’s desperate wails penetrated the darkness of the home behind Celestia, yet, oddly, Twilight gave no reaction. “No.” Quickly Celestia stepped onto the porch and shut the door behind her. “Okay.” Twilight nodded, and wasn’t she just so pleasant despite the circumstances. She even kept her warm smile as if this whole situation was normal when they both knew that was far from the case. “Sorry, but the place is a mess.” Celestia kept her ears perked, curious of any sound that stood out. She only heard the twitter of birds and the distant cacophony of maracas and steel drums—typical for the location. “I understand—“ “Do you wanna sit in the garden instead?” Before Twilight could properly formulate a response, Celestia trotted down their cobble path to go around towards the backyard. “Uh, sure.” Twilight trotted after her with a lessening smile. “Though I don’t mind a little mess. You and I both know how disorganized I can get at times.” “No, no, no, I just couldn’t bear to have you see that side of me, but we have a gorgeous view in the garden,” using her magic, Celestia tugged on the gate’s latch. “As I’m sure you’ll see.” And she held it open to allow Twilight access inside their white picket fence. Just at the edge of their yard, nestled between two looming palms, was a pathway that led to a private beach. From their seat at the glass table they could see the rolling tides, distant islands, and sparkling seashells buried in pink sand. Twilight ogled with amazement. “You’re right, Princess. This beats a sea of rooftops and the hustle and bustle of Canterlot any day.” Celestia nodded as she placed a single hoof on the table to better adjust herself in the lounge chair she found herself in. Twilight sat in the seat opposite to her with a discreet watchfulness that easily could’ve gone over a pony's head, but Celestia noticed it all. She noticed the slight jitter in her joints, the pounding of her heart, and her brows that fought to stay arched. She noticed the mask on Twilight’s face, and the faux friendliness, the faux ignorance to the parasite’s cry. Oh, Celestia knew she heard it. They were a kind game at this point. After a short moment of silence, Twilight conjured a glass of lemonade for the both of them as if she were the home’s host, and not a guest. “I’ve been experimenting with different fruity flavors lately. I’d love for you to try some.” “Do you have anything stronger?” Celestia only stared at her glass as Twilight lifted the pitcher to pour into her cup. There was a slight bubble to the drink that shouldn’t be typical for regular lemonade. “Stronger? Like sweeter?” What a ridiculous question. “Like liquor.” Twilight stopped pouring, though her smile remained. “We missed you at lunch a few days ago,” and paused as if to build anticipation, as if to prepare herself for the upcoming conversation. “I know I already said that,” Twilight whispered to herself while she took a sip of her drink. Celestia didn’t touch hers. Twilight noticed. “Luna said you were unwell.” “Luna was there without me?” Had she really abandoned Celestia without even a goodbye? The image of Luna’s sorrowful gaze burned its way to the front of her mind. “No, she wouldn’t do that to me. She knows how much it hurts.” “Your mane is all tangled.” Twilight appeared saddened at the state of her. Celestia sat up. “My mane?” And through the reflection in the glass table she could see what Twilight was referring to. Her mane was a rats nest, just disarray in a way she hadn’t needed to worry about when it flowed like living water. Quickly, Celestia attempted to brush out the lint and knots and style it into something more presentable. “My apologies, your majesty, I just woke up.” Twilight never liked it when she referred to her as such. “It’s half past noon.” “I had a long night.” “You…staying up late?” Twilight wasn’t buying it. Celestia was an early bird, of course she was! She had spent decades—centuries!—waking up before the sun. A habit like that would be difficult to break just out of the blue. But of course, Twilight already knew something was off. Such a busy mare wouldn’t just pop by on an average Thursday afternoon to simply catch up, even if Twilight believed Celestia was under the weather. There was no overt panic there, no cartload of medical journals for Twilight to painstakingly read through in hopes of finding a cure, no army of doctors accompanying her. One could argue Twilight’s obsession with Celestia had dulled since she was crowned princess, maybe her paranoia and need to fix mistakes went along with it, but Celestia didn’t believe that. Twilight was far too calm—no, playing calm. She was on edge, but for a different reason. “I made a mistake.” Celestia answered the question Twilight was surely thinking, why? If only Celestia knew how much Twilight knew, then she could weasel her way out, or at least give a proper apology. Standing up, Twilight motioned towards the beach. “Shall we take a walk? I find I spend way too much time on my flank as is.” She giggled, likely to break down Celestia’s defenses, but she was on to her. “Sure.” Celestia slowly got up as she cut her eyes at her lifelong student. What angle was Twilight coming at? What did she have planned? Just cut to the chase already, she wanted to demand, but that would only make her look more guilty. The two trotted along the beach in silence for a while. Incoming waves washed away pink sand, it polished the fine silver of Twilight’s footwear, and caused Celestia’s white fur to stick to her trimmed hooves. Here their footsteps were silent. Only the ocean’s roar would have its say, and it had quite the compelling call. Come and wash away your sorrows, it promised, drown your worries in my depths. Maybe that’s what Celestia wanted, to drown. “No,” Twilight shook her head as if she had a right to read her thoughts. “You’re so confused right now, but your pain is—“ “I seem to remember you being my pupil and not my parent. Why the sudden shift, your majesty?” She could’ve spat the last two words out like a bitter taste. There were tourists miles down on the beach, too far to make out details for earth pony’s gaze, definitely too far to see beyond a sequence of colors for a unicorn, but just at the right distance to see every towel, every glass of pina colada, every bottle of sunscreen. The perfect pegasus’ distance as they were born farsighted, an ability that gave an advantage in the sky. Twilight shielded her eyes from the sun when she looked over at Celestia. “Luna told me what happened.” “What happened?” Using magic, Celestia twirled her mane into a bun that sat at the very top of her head. “She told me about the baby.” Twilight stopped to gauge her companion’s reaction. They made eye contact, and though she really wanted to look away, Celestia was locked in a cobra’s gaze. She hadn’t meant for things to get so out of hoof. “Stop casting spells on me.” “I haven’t this time.” Twilight blinked to break their shared trance. “I don’t want to talk about this.” Celestia faced the water. It went on for all eternity, its end unknown. Perhaps if she swam far enough she’d fall off the edge of the planet? Such childish thinking was blissful in those moments. Her thoughts were interrupted when Twilight stood shoulder to shoulder to her. “We have to talk about it,” she whispered. Celestia shook her head. “No we don’t.” “Who’s the father? I won’t mind if he’s somepony I know.” “Shhh,” Celestia whispered right back. “Princess—“ “Shhh.” Twilight stopped talking. They stood there allowing the ocean to retract around them. It moved as if taking in a breath, more alive than the two alicorns keeping it company. “I know why you did it. You were frustrated, confused, I can feel it, I can feel every emotion you suffered through when it happened.” Twilight slowly nuzzled her head against her mentor’s cheek. Their horns collided, two drawn swords. Only a few short years ago Twilight barely stood at Celestia’s collarbone, but now they were nearly the same height. “You were just so overwhelmed…if only I were there, if only I could’ve helped you…You know Spike woke me up in utter horror that night when he coughed up the—“ Twilight couldn’t say it. “I didn’t know what to think at the time, but when Luna told me, it all just made sense.” She looked up to meet Celestia’s eyes in search of an answer. Celestia shook her head again. “I don’t want to talk about this.” “We need to talk about this,” before Celestia could deny her further, Twilight kept talking. “I will admit that I was shocked when I heard it. I mean, for normal ponies, yeah I guess that’s just what they do—it’s a part of any species’ life, it’s life itself for crying out loud!” A short chuckle tumbled out of her. “But for you to do it… guess I never thought it possible.” Twilight looked just as disappointed as Luna. “My dearest princess doing something so carnal.” And that just left Celestia with a heavier guilt for the sin she committed against that awful, no good, parasite. The thought of Luna bearing witness to its abuse, of Twilight knowing. Why would she ever allow him to touch it? “I’m sorry,” Celestia repeated as if her stupid little parasite could hear her. “I won’t ever allow it to happen again.” Twilight hugged her tightly. “You don’t need to apologize, Princess. These things happen—“ “But that doesn’t make it right! Not at all.” “I mean, if it didn’t happen then I wouldn’t be here, nor anypony else, Princess.” Twilight pulled away. “I mean, maybe you and Luna would still be here… you do have parents, don’t you?” The image of Gilaffy with his mouth between the thing’s legs evaporated. “You’re still talking about mating, aren’t you.” This was crazy. This was dumb. This was unnecessary, and something she didn’t want to deal with at all, ever. So she wouldn’t. “You weren’t?” Twilight raised a brow while she watched Celestia pace back and forth. “What were you referring to?” “Twilight, leave me alone.” That would be her one and only warning. “What else had happened—“ Celestia stamped her hooves, locked eyes on the tourist-heavy beach in the opposite direction of Twilight, and she took off. “Princess?!” Like a fiery chariot, she galloped with burning passion, her heart pounding out of her chest, her hooves picking up speed. “Princess!” Faster. Faster. Faster. “Celestia!” Hotter. Hotter. Hotter. Celestia focused on the beach in order to outrun her own thoughts. She kept her wings tucked, she wouldn’t take flight, here is where she needed to be. And instinctively her head lowered, her horn positioned forward, as if to ram it through her target. Who was her target? The ponies relaxing, wrapped up in their own lives, on the sound of music over the jukeboxes, on the drinks, on the game of wing volleyball, to notice the burning horse charging towards them? Was that her target? A bunch of innocent creatures, but how true was that? Someone had to be held accountable for doing this to her. Someone did this to her. Someone did. Her mane fell out of its bun and caught fire. The ponies remained ignorant—blind! Stupid! Not responsible for this. Her little ponies wouldn’t see her like this, no matter how much she tore the earth open in her gallope, no matter how much she wanted to just… To just— “Princess!” Through a burst of energy, Twilight appeared in front of her, and grabbed hold of her horn. The second her magic made contact with Celestia’s, she couldn’t hold it down anymore, and she erupted in a huge spark of light. Twilight dug her heels in the now molten ground beneath her, and she held tighter as the metal on her body evaporated from the blast. Celestia screamed. She screamed not in pain but just as Twilight had said, frustration, confusion, all those emotions she didn’t want to suffer through. She screamed until the once pink beach turned pure diamond beneath her, and the rage erode the bit of her gut laid dormant until next time. Until the next tantrum. Until her next regret. “Princess,” Twilight caught her when she collapsed. “You are unwell,” her once faithful student concluded as she gazed down at her from the bubble she constructed around them. She pouted, her lip quivered, Celestia sobbed. “I’m not.” “You are.” Like a lobotomized robot, those words came out of Twilight’s lips with very little emotion. “Twilight—“ “Don’t fight me on this, please, Princess.” “Twilight, I’m okay.” Twilight did say anything further, but she stared at her with this suffocating sort of disappointment. It hurt worse than Luna’s sorrow. “Your gaze is so cold.” Celestia looked away, instead finding comfort in the normality of the tourist. There was a busdonkey staring directly at them— he had been the only creature in such a crowded environment who noticed, likely an effect of Twilight’s magic cloaking the whole ordeal so as not to startle the ponies. As he held a tray in his mouth, as he stopped dead in his tracks to gaze, Celestia recognized him as the jack from dinner a few nights prior. “We can help you.” Twilight still had a grip on her horn. Celestia thought about him plowing her—such an odd thought indeed. He was a loser, a creature at the very bottom of Equestrian society. No one would ever care about an ugly donkey immigrant making 5 bits a day cleaning tables. He was the lowest of the low, and she was the most high. Yes, a beloved princess, adored by both pony and other. She was the pinnacle—it’d never get better than her. Yet she thought about him fucking her raw in the filthiest stall in the resort’s busiest bathroom. She thought about him inseminating her without her knowledge and getting her knocked up with his defective spawn. She thought about birthing his hideous baby, she thought about it happening again, from the grossest sex to the babies she’d have. These thoughts weren’t good, she thought, but if they were in her mind then surely it was a fantasy of hers. A fantasy oddly familiar, but one she’d never recall experiencing. “I could do a better job at punishing myself. I think I should do it.” “Nopony wants to punish you, Princess”. A unicorn mare fanning her sun kissed face with a magazine, bumped into the busdonkey, which caused the cold drinks he carried to spill all over her expensive name-brand bikini bottoms that only the wealthiest of society would bother to wear. With magic she rolled up the magazine to hit him repeatedly over the head with it. “You idiot! Look what you did!” “Sorry, miss ma’am. Sorry,” he attempted to avoid the blows, cowering into himself, but he was pinned between her and a lifeguard’s watch post. “Where is your manager, you filthy animal! Where are they?!” She continued to beat him while a few onlookers gave passing glances, and some came a little closer to see what was going on, but no one intervened. “You’re gonna be standing in the unemployment line when I’m done with you!” “We need to head back now.” Twilight helped Celestia up. “It’s nearly time.” “Time for what?” She was never given an answer.
It KnewTo live as long as she had, recognizing when something was off just came naturally. Forget about Twilight Sparkle’s poorly muffled tension, the sun sat lopsided in the sky—a placement not quite right for the time of the year and time of day. When she looked up, way up, she spotted the moon painted a faint blue behind in the clear sky. It played the role of the North Star guiding them towards the beach house, and it remained there, directly above it with stubborn defiance. Luna was home. With a burst of excitement, Celestia broke into a full gallop towards their white picket fence. “Aunty!” Cadance waited in the backyard, and when she spotted her she wore the same forced smile as Twilight, only her poker face wasn’t as strong. Raising on her hind legs with the aid of her flapping wings, Cadance opened her arms to offer the approaching mare a hug. Celestia denied her one, far too aware that she was serving as a barrier between her and her sweet Luna. “You are looking very well,” Cadance lied. Celestia leaped over her niece’s head, straight through the sliding door glass, to land into the kitchen of the house. Shards of what was once a dusty window scattered across the puddle of water pooling from beneath the running sink. That all went ignored, what mattered more than glass in her mane was finding out why the parasite had gone quiet. As if she cared about it. As if she had any incentive to keep the treacherous thing alive. Approaching her bedroom door, Celestia came to a halt as she held her breath. There was fog between the hinges, through each crack. This dread, this suffocating regret, as if the reaper stood on the other side waiting to greet her for the final time. Or greet the parasite. In those moments, those few short seconds, Cestestia couldn’t say she felt much. It needed to die, she wanted it did—at least she thought so? She didn’t know. Gilaffy could’ve done it for her, she could’ve asked him to end it since she was too much of a coward to take it out of her misery herself. But then she heard Luna’s lullaby, and though it was drenched in her sorrow, it lacked the weight of grief. Celestia slowly opened the door. In the dark room, under the warm light of Luna’s horn, the moon goddess cradled the skeletal form of the parasite. She breathed life into it with a gentle kiss, and as she kept it close to her chest, Celestia just knew her sister had fallen deeply in love just by the way she looked at it—and Luna never looked at her that way. Such strong adoration for someone so undeserving of it? It just made Celestia very envious of her own infant child. “Why did you leave me, Luna?” Celestia came closer. If she got her way, she’d yank the parasite from Luna’s grasps and punish it for stealing yet another thing from her. Her sister turned her back on Celestia while she kept her sights on the parasite as if it were the only being on earth. But that wasn’t fair. Not after their long time away from each other. One whole week? Since Luna’s return they’ve never gone a few days without seeing each other’s face. “Luna?” Celestia begged for her attention. But Luna reserved all of her love for the nasty little creature Celestia hated more than she knew. “Quite a beauty to behold, a gift I’ll forever cherish. Rest now my precious child, for when you wake you’ll be renewed,” Luna whispered as she soothed the parasite into pleasant dreams. And Celestia came even closer, an anger taking a hold of her as her mind was left conflicted. That parasite wasn’t Luna’s. She didn’t have to suffer through its birth, so how could she just claim it as her own as if Celestia had no say in the matter? “That’s my baby,” she reminded her sister who still refused to look at her. Luna kept singing, and rocking, and keeping her back to Celestia—such a spiteful act of defiance that made her want to erupt. Before Celestia could confront her, Twilight placed a hoof on her shoulder. “The chariots are here.” Why was that said with no emotion? Was Twilight also upset with her? “Luna and the foal will ride in the first, and you’ll ride with Cadance and I, princess.” Still cradling the parasite in her magic, Luna turned around to head out of the door without uttering a single word to her sister. Celestia, of course, attempted to follow, only for Twilight to once again stand in her way. “I should ride with my baby.” Celestia reminded her once faithful student of this fact since she had been so adamant on pestering her about this child before, so of course Twilight should understand and be on her side. Twilight did not understand, or she did not care. “I don’t think that’s a good idea—“ “And why not?” Still a head taller than Twilight, Celestia raised her neck to stare down at her as if she had the right to hold such a cold judgemental stare on the nation’s current monarch. As if Celestia had her head screwed on straight, as if they both weren’t aware there was something very, very wrong with her current mental state. As if she weren’t a breakdown away from becoming a living bomb. So Twilight eased up, and she did what was best for all the creatures of Equestria. “Princess,” she smiled, and through the glow of her heavenly magic, Celestia could be coaxed to calm down. “I’m excited to ride with you. Just like old times.” “Like old times?” They locked their gaze. Twilight infiltrated her mind with her will. Do as I say, it’ll be alright. “I’m smarter than that,” Celestia reminded not only her former student, but herself of this fact. “Your magic is only as strong as I allow it.” “You are strong.” “I know that.” “So be strong for her and comply?” With such desperation in Twilight’s voice it was easy to give in, to just get this over with, but Celestia didn’t want to. She wanted to fight for what? What was there to push back against. “Luna hates me.” “Luna only wants to save the foal.” Twilight tucked her head beneath Celestia’s chin to offer her comfort. She wasn’t upset with her, she just didn’t want her to be broken anymore. “Don’t you?” Celestia didn’t know how she felt anymore. Milk dripped down her forelegs and to moisten the velvet cushions beneath Celestia. Cadance had noticed but had said a word about it. She hadn’t said a word to Celestia at all, not since they entered the chariot a while ago. The windows were covered by curtains. The world outside was muffled by high winds. They sat in silence. Everything felt off. Celestia had lived long enough to know when she was being led into a situation she couldn’t simply walk away from, yet she stayed put. She put up no fuss. She behaved like a good filly despite knowing what was likely planned for her. Luna knew what she had done. By her sister’s reaction, there was no mistaking that she was, in fact, present in her dream. She knew about Gilaffy and what Celestia allowed him to do . Now the question was whether or not Twilight knew too. The laws on such an offense were very well known to Celestia considering that, well, she helped write them. Technically, she could be held just as liable for the crime of sexual misconduct of a foal under 3 years of age, and charged with molestation, foal endangerment, assault of an infant—there was enough to place her on a list for a long time. She would deserve it too. charges that could get tacked on there too. How such a loving princess could become a bad pony. Celestia felt ashamed, but there was no redoing the past. And to be quite frank, Celestia wasn’t too keen on being punished for such heinous crimes—it’d ruin her holy image. Now that is if Twilight was aware of Gilaffy. Judging by Twilight not once mentioning his name, the lack of concern on what he possibly did to the parasite, if Celestia had to wager a guess she’d say she was none the wiser. But that begged the question of why Luna would tell Twilight everything else, yet keep the worst part of it to herself. “Oh, Luna.” Celestia shut her eyes and hung her head. Of course Luna wouldn’t want the world to know the monstrous thing Celestia had done. “It's going to be alright. We’re almost there.” Twilight smiled as she nuzzled against her. “Can I explain myself?” Celestia had to distract from the fact she felt herself heating up. “I didn’t believe it was real.” “You didn’t believe what was real?” Cadance placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder. “The para—the foal…my baby.” To see the forced smile on Cadance's face gradually sag into that of a frustrated frown was oddly the most satisfying thing Celestia had witnessed all day. She’d rather raw honest truth than the fake politeness she’s been receiving, and honest truth was just what Cadance was going to serve to her. “No I can’t,” Cadance pushed away. “I know you want me to be kind, Twilight, but I just can’t do this. As a mother I just—“ Taking a deep inhale, she bite her tongue. It was awkward as they fell into silence. Each mare exchanging looks between each other. Twilight nodded. “Okay—“ No, they would not drop this to place the masks back on. Celestia wanted to confront this, she wanted a conflict—or a resolution. Whichever happened first. “Just say what you want to say.” So she loomed over her niece, both well aware who the superior alicorn was—and Cadance was far from superior to anyone beyond her bratty husband. “You can’t convince me a pony with your age and wisdom couldn’t recognize a foal.” Cadance broke their eye contact in favor of feeding her more faux politeness. “But it’s fine. I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end after you get the help that you need.” That was a bit smug. “Help this, help that…” as Celestia shook her head, her mane whipped all corners of their tight space. “Who’s to say I want the help? What if I decide to reject it? Fly out of this cabin without a second word? Never speak to either of you again?” “Then you’d be throwing a tantrum, and we’d have every right to put you in timeout,” Cadance scoffed while she sat up with her forelegs. “I’ll take that as my cue to leave—“ “Enough!” Twilight slammed her hoof on the red cushioned floor of their cabin. “Princess Cadance, I request that you be mature about this.” “Of course, princess.” With a royal bow, the ruler of the Crystal Kingdom returned to her silence. “Please, calm down for me. This is hard on everypony.” Unlike with Cadance, Twilight handled Celestia with kid gloves. And as she extended a hoof like a seatbelt over her mentor, the chariot descended from the atmosphere. “You’re already doing so well—“ Celestia stuck her long neck past Twilight’s shoulder to steal a glance out of the drawn curtains concealing the world outside. They weren’t landing on solid ground, but approaching a cloud castle—rather a fortress that went on for miles in either direction. Below its feet were dark ominous thunderclouds occasionally flashing from bolts of electricity. The earth below was but a figment of one’s imagination, there was nothing in this void beyond their destination. This was no happy place. The line of pegasi guards taking formation as the chariot approached its landing strip didn’t help ease her mind. “Twilight…” Celestia didn’t know what to say. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, took in a deep breath, and just let it out. “You intend to imprison me?” “We need to focus on making sure your foal is alive, Princess. Here is the best location to do that while keeping things discreet.” Twilight’s response was predictable, robotic even, vague in a sense that it didn’t answer her initial question. She used her magic to obscure Celestia’s view, but she already caught a glance of Luna’s chariot landing and before the doors could even open, a group of doctors flew from the fortress’ doors to retrieve the dying parasite. Celestia gathered up her tail as she prepared to leave. “I’m sure with the right magic, and in the hooves of professionals, it should be alright.” She assured herself, but said it aloud so Twilight and Cadance wouldn’t think she was a psychopath. Perhaps it was too late for that. “We do have a few professionals who’d like to speak to you too.” Twilight smiled. “How come? I’m not sick.” The surface of the clouds were so thick that Celestia hadn’t felt the cart land at all. Suddenly they were moving, and then they were not. Twilight wouldn’t give her a response. She simply opened the door to a line of saluting guards. “We should go,” she said. Cadance got up behind Celestia, clearly seeking to exit, and thus forcing her forward. A lesser pony might’ve felt intimidated by this, but Celestia was well aware of her status. Nothing could make her feel frightened by her niece. Not even her husband approaching the three in his clad in wartime best. “Princess,” Shining Armor bowed at his sister’s feet. “I hope your ride was favorable and my soldiers didn’t give you too much trouble.” The group turned towards the two pairs of pegasi pulling their chariots. They wore blinders on the side of their helmets, and tight earmuffs. If they weren’t standing directly in their line of sight, they wouldn’t know they were still there, let alone referring to them. “It was…fine enough.” Twilight sighed, but continued on before her brother could draw conclusions and blame the wrong ponies for the figurative turbulence during their flight. “Status update?” “All operations are as requested.” “Thank you, General.” Twilight motioned with her head for him to stand. “Though, it’s crucial that we keep this discreet, so I am a bit disappointed at the number of guards present.” Shining Armor turned around to gauge the repeating faces of white winged stallions. He nodded and grinned behind his polished gold plated helmet. “They are an illusion, princess.” His grin had been shining the entire time, likely to grant himself the ability to walk on the clouds, but as he shook his head like a wet dog, the lines of guards disappeared like clearing fog. “I’ve gotten pretty good at that, haven’t I?” “You have. It was wonderful!” Cadance stomped her hooves in praise. “Quite alluring, if I might add,” she purred like a kitten. Shining Armor stood a foot taller. “You liked that, didn’t you?” “Mhm, I did—“ “Okay, let’s get moving!” Twilight interrupted before things got a little too steamy. To traverse the fortress was like walking blindfolded through a carnival fun house full of mirrors. It didn’t help that Celestia was kept in the dark about a lot of details; like where were they going? Why here of all places? Would the parasite be okay? Nothing was answered, nothing was said even, beyond the sound of their clopping hooves over the cloud castle’s glass floors. Eventually they arrived at a large corridor adorned with ceiling high statues of winged unicorns—alicorns she hadn’t seen before. They held the elements in their hooves as their stone eyes watched them from their high position. Celestia noticed Cadance whisper in her husband’s ear, so faintly that she needed to strain her ears to hear a portion of it. “…thing we never left Flurry alone with...” Cadance had her gaze all over Celestia, spiting her to act out. “Who knows what she would’ve done.” “I still can’t believe it.” Shining Armor replied, but it was a thought in his head. Just as Luna could walk through a pony's slumber, Celestia could gaze into a daydream, but to get the full picture of a pony’s imagination was far more difficult than through a full night’s sleep. The darkness allowed for little distraction. To daydream was to be half awake, and thus the mind could snap back into focus in a second’s notice. Like at that moment when Shining Armor suddenly yelped from under the red hot iron of his armor. Immediately Cadance’s eyes shot towards Celestia as Twilight stopped her silent trot to see what was happening. “You’re hurting him!” Cadance screamed, reared up, then slammed her front hooves against the glass floor shattering it to get at the clouds below. Her horn lit up, Shining Armor was knocked off his feet and into a pool of cool water. The group watched as he sizzled in his magical fishbowl before the temperatures returned to normal. “I can’t believe you’d do that.” “I’m simply standing here.” Unlike her niece, Celestia didn’t raise her voice. “I haven’t used my magic once.” “Liar! You liar, aunty!” Shining Armor, with his mane dripping over his eyes, stood up, only to be pushed right back down by his wife. “I’m alright—“ “She’s trying to burn you alive!” “I’m simply standing here,” Celestia repeated. Twilight removed Shining Armor’s helmet and helped him on his smoking hooves. “I don’t believe the Princess can control her temperatures. That is on us, Cadance. We should’ve been more vigilant of the rising heat.” “Us?!” Cadance blinked in utter shock. Her face wrinkled into something feral, furious. “How was I supposed to know she would do that?! She’s over a thousand years old yet needs to be babysat?! Stop infantilizing her!” “Princess Cadance,” Twilight looked down at her sister-in-law, wings spread to add size, while she challenged her disordenice with her gaze alone. Cadance might’ve been older, but Twilight was the lead mare in Equestria. She wouldn’t allow her to forget that. Both Cadance, and in turn Shining Armor, bowed in reverence. “My apologies, princess,” they said in sync. “Perhaps Princess Celestia wouldn’t have gotten so worked up if you two weren’t gossiping in earshot.” Twilight shut her wings but allowed her glare to linger for just a second longer before she released them from her Medusan hold. “Our apologies,” Cadance said alone. “On your feet.” As they continued forward, Celestia slowly wandered to Twilight’s side. How odd she felt to have their roles reversed. Twilight the motherly monarch, and Celetia the starry eyed subject—though she wasn’t exactly starry eyed, moreso suspicious. “You don’t need to defend me, Twilight. A few mean words hardly make a dent on my psyche.” Through a room, then a long hallway, and through yet another room, they were approaching a wide stone door over ten feet in height. It took a moment, one far too long, before Twilight gave her a response. “I think you’re currently in a fragile state of mind. Some things will affect you more than usual.” “You speak as if that’s fact.” Celestia looked up at the peak of the door. There were intricate inscriptions running along the entirety of it, and by the way the light shined chromatically against each crease and crevice, Celestia knew that every fiber of its being was oozing with ancient sorcery. Whatever this place was, Celestia didn’t know, and she assumed she knew every location on the Equestrian map, be it deep underground, or hundreds of feet in the air. So she took a step back. This was no chamber to Tartarus, but something far worse. Twilight looked beyond her with a smile. “Starswirl! There you are.” She gladly motioned him over with her neck. “Princesses,” he bowed, and as he did, two other young sorcerers followed suit. Celestia might’ve been a little rusty on her royal duties, but despite seeing millions upon millions of faces throughout her lifetime, she recognized the lilac mare as the reformed Starlight Glimmer, and the caped stallion as Sunburst. And in those moments it all came very neatly together. Celestia looked towards the large open window, her illusion of escape if Shining Armor intensely watching her was anything to go by. She hardly feared him, a hot helmet was enough to make him cry, but she knew he wasn’t there to serve as muscle. He was a battery for Cadance. So she found herself in a room with two alicorns, one she was certain she could take in her sleep, and another she was…very doubtful about. Beyond those two there were three wizards, and not just any wizard, but Starswirl the Bearded, a sorcery powerful enough to cheat death himself without the need for ascension. Celestia wasn’t too certain about his underlings, but the simple fact that Twilight requested their presence was enough to cause her to hesitate. “I’m glad you all could make it. Please, on your feet.” Twilight smiled. Celestia scanned for another escape. The architecture of the fortress was nothing she'd seen before. Markings of beasts with two heads, and sharp teeth, and crazed eyes lined the center of the ceiling, and on the far right were equine chopping the heads of these beasts with curved blades and golden plated armor. In the far left? In the far left, just above the door, were alicorns transforming into the monsters the ponies fought. Starswirl chuckled as he spoke. “It’s a pleasure, princess. All measures are in order to ensure the erasure of our memories after our duties are fulfilled, just as you requested.” “Perfect. The same will need to be done to the surgeons, and the set of soldiers that escorted us here today.” “Of course. They won’t remember a thing once they leave this place.” Starswirl kept his gaze on Celestia. “We were just going over a few preparations for the ritual. There is no room for error after all as in the best case scenario, we simply fail to open the gate. In the worst case, well, we could unintentionally release a malicious entity.” As Starswirl spoke, his beard swung back and forth from the bells dangling from it. Were those new? Tiny gold bells to match the ones on his hat? “Fortunately, I have very brilliant help with me today.” His eyes crescent as he made room for Starlight and Sunburst, both equally humbled by the compliment. “I would say it’s the time I’ve spent studying on Skyros that is to blame.” Sunburst magically pushed his glasses up the bridge of his snout. “That and Starlight.” His cheeks burned red. Starlight didn’t appear to notice his flustered state at the mere mention of her. “Well I—“ “What is this ritual for?” Celestia butted in with a tilted head. She knew that they knew that she knew what they were planning. It was a mind game they were playing, she figured. Perhaps their way of making her too nervous to think straight since everyone present knew that whatever they had planned, it was for her. Twilight placed a comforting hoof on her shoulder. “You’ll get the help that you need.” “Right.” Celestia observed the sea of smiling faces. All phonies, all fake. “It’s not a prison,” Twilight added. “Right.” “It’s for your own good.” That same comforting hoof now rubbed her shoulder as if to claim everything would be just fine. It was believable for a young foal, but obviously not for Celestia. Through the burst of the collective magic of the three sorcerers, diamond cuffs appeared, and judging by its plain matte finish, it wasn’t diamond for appearances but durability. Seven cuffs in total, four for each leg, two for her wings, and one for her horn. The leg cuffs weren’t shackled together, they only served to suppress her strength. The wing cuffs, to ground her. The horn cuffs, to seal her magic. Celestia had lorded over enough criminal cases throughout the years to know how these things operated, and to know that once the cuffs were on they weren’t coming off short of amputation. “It’ll only be a short while,” Twilight assured her with the same motherly tone Celestia would previously use on her. She stepped closer, taking the cuffs in her own magic, as all ponies present gradually formed a circle around the rogue princess to trap her like a wild animal. Celestia could feel herself warming up. She took a deep breath. The open window was only a few wing strokes away, but the more she stared, the more she noticed the same chromatic light reflecting off an invisible barrier. They came prepared for her bolting out of there, of course they did. Celestia wanted to feel insulted, but she had no time for that. She needed to think of a way out of this. “How short exactly?” “A little while.” Twilight kept it vague. “You’ll be out before you know it.” So nothing short of a thousand years at least. “All by myself?” She looked towards the room Starswirl and his apprentices came from. “Isolated in a cage?” “No, no. It’s more like a facility with other deities who also have similar problems. Fully staffed and all, and the scenery is so soothing, not to mention the heavenly music.” Twilight had a twinkle in her eyes just thinking about it—or at least coaxing Celestia to envision it. “It really is nice, aunty. I had an opportunity to magically tour the place with the Princess, and if the books are anything to go by, I don’t think there exists a location as nice as that facility in our physical realm.” Cadance, all high and mighty, was the first to make a nice little pathway towards the strange stone door. “Oh, really?” Celestia feigned excitement. “That’s not so bad. I guess I’ll go.” Twilight opened the horn cuff as she edged it closer towards its very long and pointed target. “This is so good to hear, and you’re very brave to agree to this, princess. I’m proud of you—“ Celestia yanked her head back before the cuff could shut. “But I want to make sure my baby is alive and I want to say goodbye to Luna.” “I don’t think that’s—“ “Please,” she pouted. “How will I ever manage to focus on healing while the guilt of never getting to say goodbye to my only sister and foal looms over my head?” Celestia lowered her neck to the ground as if to wipe her tears against the glass floor. “I wouldn’t see the point in continuing on. In that case, I’d rather transition out of this life.” Such threats were never uttered from Celestia’s lips, so it was no wonder that Twilight would take it very seriously. She dropped her magic completely, from the cuffs that hovered above their heads, to the invisible force field around the fortress. And tears pricked the corners of Twilight’s eyes, she staggered on her breath, her calm facade fell. “You wouldn’t…” Starswirl spoke up. “Princess, we shouldn’t delay. There is a limited window of time to perform the ritual.” “I know, but…” Twilight couldn’t contain her tears any longer. “She deserves to at least say goodbye.” “Princess,” Cadance picked up the cuffs herself. “Why don’t I do it then? We can just have Luna write to her and give an update on the status of the foal. There’s no need for her to see them and cause more damage.” “I might be gone for a while,” Celestia sighed. “Can’t I have just this moment?” And she was really outdoing herself with the pity act, though that was due in fact that she wasn’t fully pretending. If they were going to cast her to the realm of bad, naughty, no good gods—something she didn’t even do to Nightmare Moon—then seeing Luna’s face for one last time was the only way she’d survive it. And maybe even seeing the parasite too, for whatever reason. “I won’t put up a fuss afterwards.” Cadance huffed a, “no.” But Twilight had been convinced enough through her own tears of nostalgia and aging reverence for her mentor. Of course she’d cave in. Of course she would. “We’ll aim for the next window of time. The princess should be granted a chance to say goodbye.” “We’re looking at the following full moon at the latest, princess. We still have a few hours today to open the gate.” Through his magic, a book appeared before Starswirl. “If Princess Celestia is indeed showing signs of turning, it wouldn’t be wise to allow our emotions to fog our judgment.” Whatever he was searching for in that book, he had found, but he didn’t share it with the rest of them. “Especially when millions of lives are on the line.” “I understand.” Twilight wiped the tears from her eyes as she inhaled to regain her composure. “Then we have a few hours. That’s plenty of time to say goodbye.” Starswirl nodded with a bow. “As you wish, your majesty.”