You wanna know the most difficult part of this whole shitshow? It’s not the embarrassment of losing a bunch of my territory, although it’s definitely up there. No, the worst part of it all is the logistical fucking nightmare this whole thing’s been. Ugh, do you know how hard it’s been to organize this shit?

Well first and main priority is the people. Due to the nature of this whole thing, we’re gonna be losing a lot- homes, businesses, entire livelihoods uprooted just so the dragons could have their “Living Space.”

And of course, there was the challenge of convincing the citizens that I was doing what was best for them. For that, honesty was helpful- no one’s suicidal enough to try and fight dragons, not with our current level of firepower. The general sentiment could be boiled down to an overall distaste for Equestria’s imperialism.

With that, I had all telegrams in the… occupied region, transmitting one single message.

WRAP IT UP!

I admit, it reminded me of the days when the cops were closing in on our favorite hangout. Throughout the region, anyone with a pulse began stripping out anything of value, anything worth a damn, to take back to Fertilia. We’d be back, and we all knew it- it’d just take a little time.

After that, the region left of Catlus was so miniscule, it was decided that it would be absorbed into Fertilia.

Then there was the issue of integrating the Catlians into Fertilian culture. To accomplish this, we threw all sorts of fairs and community events. Not only did it keep the people entertained, it also helped them bond with their new forced communities. See, we tried to keep the housing as concentrated as possible, to make it easier to integrate them into our lifestyle.

God, we built so many fuckin houses these past three months.

The key to this whole thing, I think, is keeping an overall message of hope and prosperity. It helps to show the people that what they’re fighting for is a noble cause, and a sense of obligation out of national pride. Actually in a few months, right before my due date, we’re gonna be hosting a massive science exhibition to boost morale… but more on that later.

Second priority was digging up as much birdshit as we possibly could. Normally, we have our operations set up around clusters of islands, with a refinement plant staged in the center. This is because the finished saltpeter is much lighter than just barges full of birdshit, which would then be stored and shipped to the mainland.

We were throwing this all out the window in the name of speed, and just sending barges full of birdshit to friendly ports and storing them in whatever warehouses we could find. We had to- the deadline to leave was a measly three months! We brought on all kinds of workers, and even brought a significant number of diamond dogs to help shovel the shit.

In the end, we had a good stockpile… but then again, it wouldn’t do to stick with old ways constantly, no sirree. After all, why stick with muzzleloaders? I got the wealth and the resources of the nation in my wallet!

That’s where the National Research Union comes in. It was a sort of loose collective of scientists and other assorted nerds, who researched stuff for a salary. I give them parameters and goals to meet, and they report back with their progress to keep the funding going. This was much more efficient than just hiring freelance nerds off the street, of course.

That’s what the science exhibition is about- we were gonna build it, right here in Featherworth! My architect has a vision, and I’d love to see it through- it’s everything that we’re about! Progress! That’s what we stand for! All sorts of cool stuff is gonna be exhibited there, but I’m not gonna spoil it just yet…

Ah, but enough of that.

All the meanwhile, the Overboss of Catlus, Augustine, was constantly breakin’ my balls over the whole land thing, and what the fuck am I supposed to do!? My hands are tied, we cannot go to war with the fucking dragons! No matter how big a caliber I make my rifles, against a full grown dragon? Fuckin, might as well be goin’ at ‘em with peashooters! Not to mention, those dragons go for our powder magazines? KABOOM! NO MORE GUNS!

“Sweetie, calm down. You’re gritting your beak again.” My wife gently put a hoof to my arm, pulling me out of my spiral of anger. I rubbed it, as the roots have been getting sore from how fucking pissed off I’ve been lately. We were on a train, heading to another meeting with Ember. I might have to leave my guns behind to keep from shooting her myself.

“Babe. Calm.” My wifes voice soothed me, and I could feel my blood pressure returning to normal. I let out a heavy sigh and leaned into my wife, using her lap as a pillow. She started lightly stroking my head feathers, and I decided to rest my eyes.

“Thank you.” I sighed and she giggled. I’d be fucked without her, and I knew it. She tapped my head to get my attention- and I saw that Maria brought my ice cream. I’d thanked her with a smile like I always did, just trying to relax. And I really did try, just eating my ice cream and trying not to think about it.

The train whistled- signaling the approaching stop. It wasn’t actually a station we were stopping at. It was the edge of a bridge spanning a great river- the Rubicon, coincidentally enough, was chosen to be the natural border between our nations. Already, I could see dragons flying, circling the cities in the distance.

A small post office was our destination. But we weren’t alone- Ember arrived with her normal entourage of guards… but she brought a guest, to display dominance. Her father… the old dragon lord, Torch. Bastard was as tall as a skyscraper, had curved horns probably heavy as a truck, and teeth that were as big as me. He wore a black iron chest plate, forged from dragonfire, and which weighed incomprehensibly heavy.

This is why we couldn’t fight the dragons. We wouldn’t stand a chance right now. But that’s okay- I had a plan. I always have a plan.

I sat at the table on the porch in front of the small, wooden post office. It had an odd western kinda vibe.

“Don Grimfeather.” Ember greeted me with a smug grin. “Let me turn your train around for you.” She said cooly, snapping her fingers. In a display of further dominance, her father picked the front train car up like it were a mere wooden toy and carried it to the other side, attaching it to the back car. Today was officially the last day.

If there were still any griffons left behind, God help the fools.

“Don’t feel so bad, Leona. It’s going to a good cause.” She said, sitting on a wooden chair and leaning back. “And hey, at least you get to watch a show.”

Just then, a large flock of dragons descended upon the bridge- burning it, tearing it apart piece by piece, making absolutely sure to lock us out. It was more of a symbolic gesture than anything. We spent the next hour or so discussing final terms- but I wasn’t all there. My wife would give me a rundown later.

The whole thing left a bitter taste in my mouth. Still though- my new home boosted my mood immensely.

It just got done being built a week ago, actually. It’s a real nice place- plenty of room, a big office, great security, and PERFECT for raising a family! Despite constantly getting fucked around every corner, I couldn’t not feel excited about my baby! Fuck the castle- it was too big, a baby could get lost!

As for the castle itself? Well, we essentially turned the place into a refugee camp. The actual rooms cost money, but the majority of people slept in tents in the hallways. We even transformed the dungeon into a sort of cheaper alternative for those who wanted more privacy- we just nailed boards over the bars.

It wasn’t horrible, though. We made sure to provide them three meals a day, laundry services, and once again- the dungeon showers were transformed into a sort of stalled community shower. Every day, more and more people are finding jobs and moving out of the castle. The end goal, I think, should be to retire the castle completely.

One of these days. Besides- I had all sorts of cheap public housing projects going on at once, where the needy can at least have a cheap roof over their heads. It honestly looked kinda like a city from home, just without the skyscrapers.

Of course, I’m not letting anyone be bums. It was a fantastic arrangement- instead of sending an enforcer to collect money off ‘em, you send someone to make sure they’re looking for a job. If you can’t find a job? We’ll find a job for you. God knows there’s plenty of shit that needs done.

Way I see it, everyone needs to pull their weight, you know? But still. Things were running smoothly for now, at least.

Of course, pregnancy has come with a few downsides. Like today- I was in a meeting today with Augustine, I was made painfully aware of changes made to my body. I was sitting at my desk like normal, and Corleone was chilling on my lap. Roscoe was there, as was my Mamma.

“So you’re telling me that you can’t do anything?” This cunt was pacing around my office, once again bitching about the land situation.

“Listen, I already told you, I can’t-” Corleone jumped off my lap to go do cat things, and I slid my chair in, forgetting that my belly had gotten bigger already. My tits, which had been sore as fuck lately, smacked into the desk- and I had to almost bite my tongue to keep from whining out loud. It fuckin’ hurt!

“You alright, sweetie?” Mamma was at my side immediately, and I couldn’t help but put a hand over the sore digits. “Aww, feeling sore?” she asked, apparently having experience with this sort of thing.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.” I quickly said, forcing myself to calm down. I turned back to Augustine. “Listen. Just give it time, I’ll get it taken care of.” I said to her, and you know what this bitch had the audacity to tell me?

She looked me dead in the eyes, scoffed, and said- “Well, you better get this resolved soon if you know what’s good for you.” And before I had the chance to look around my office to figure out who the fuck she was speaking to, she stormed off. I looked at Roscoe, and we made eye contact. I merely blinked and nodded, and he knew exactly what to do.

I think that was my favorite thing- if I wanted someone taken care of… all it takes is a look and a nod.

“She’s just another royal bitch who doesn’t know her place in the world, honey.” My mother rubbed my shoulders, assuring me and calming me significantly. I smiled and glanced back at her.

“Fuck ‘em.” Was all I said, and she nodded. Catlus doesn’t really exist anymore, anyway. Why would it need its own Overboss?

Last bit of preparation I had to do for The Exposition was to approve the final designs for the main venue. Most of the construction had already begun for the outskirts… but I wanted the main building to be perfect. I was meeting him in his office, where he did most of his planning.

“Ayyy, Tony!” I greeted the architect with a quick, casual hug. His apartment looked like a schizo meltdown, with sketches and blueprints hanging all over the walls, materials scattered about, and all surrounded by a table, covered in a tarp. His full name was Anthony Moretti- but I hate being so formal with everyone. This man designed my banner- how could I not respect the guy?

“I think you’ll find the final design to your liking.” He said, yanking a tarp off the table. It was a scale model of an old waterfront district along a river. “I call it The World of Tomorrow!”

It definitely fit the bill for futuristic in the current era. It was this massive building made of glass panes, consisting of a midway as well as a hall crossing through. The second floor consisted of a mezzanine, giving people a fantastic view from above.

And not only will there be displays that I directly instructed and funded, I also put together a team specifically for hunting down talent- industry experts from all over the nation, eager to show off their work and try to score some loot for future projects.

“This is fuckin gold. Seriously, where did my wife find you?” I asked him jokingly, patting him on the shoulder. He simply chuckled in response.

“I’m simply doing my patriotic duty, am I not?” he asked, and I snorted.

“What, you mean the kick-ass paycheck I’m payin’ you? What the hell’re you still livin’ in this apartment for?” I smiled, taking a big wad of fives out of my coat pocket and shoving it in his vest. “You need anything, you let me know.” I said to him, making my leave.

And before you say anything- that was actually a lot of money because our Dollar has a really good face value. Hell, I think it was a couple day’s pay!

“Don’t you want to know the cost estimate?” He asked as I passed the threshold- and I looked back with a smug grin.

“No thanks. The stress is no good for my baby.” I wasn’t worried. My wife and her army of accountants would take care of that. Besides- we were still pulling up so much gold, even the money printer can’t go BRRRRRRRR hard enough. It definitely helps that the diamond dogs stockpiled a lot of gold, for some fuckin’ reason. I think they were using it for food? I dunno.

Of course, don’t think we’re overinflating our dollar already. We only print only when we deem it necessary, and only if we have the gold. What’re we, the Federal Reserve? We don’t glow that hard!

At this point, I had about six months before my due date- God knows I was looking forward to it. Hell, we all were! Even Dee, she’s constantly talking to Roscoe’s wife, talking about setting up playdates and stuff for our baby. Meanwhile, Mamma’s always talking about how she’s gonna spoil the hell out of them.

Personally, I can’t wait to teach them how to shoot guns. But then again- God help us all if the kid’s anything like me.

Author's Note

New chapter baybeee :3

I have a discord server for this fic out now!! It'd be real cool if u joined :333

As always, thanks so much for reading! Likes and comments are greatly appreciated :3