Kassaz
11/1/2025, 4:43:36 AM
No.42752476
Happy Nightmare Night. The artwork's not quite finished, so I'll have to share the final piece later, but here's the finished first chapter:
https://www.fimfiction.net/story/582238/1/tall-tales-of-the-one-true-queen-and-her-many-children/snug-in-a-bug
Snug in a Bug
Queen Chrysalis lay flat on the floor of her hive, in a sense. She was alone, and not. She was rather still, and constantly, violently twitching. Her monstrously bloated belly rested underneath her, every one of her nooks and crannies filled with foals, dwarfing the rest of her body. It was lumpy with its contents, and had no clear shape; despite lifting her hooves well from the ground, it still bulged upwards so that its highest point was past her withers. The queen couldn’t tell, and wouldn’t care, but her thin spine twisted and curved along her gut, leaving her lounging on top in what would be a very uncomfortable position for any pony. She had nothing to do while she waited in the bowels of the cave system stretching from every direction around her, but to admire her body and the bodies of the children within her. She had read every book available to her many times over; she couldn’t plan her most recent military strategy any further, for this was her military strategy; and one of her born children was taking an awfully long time to return with her drink order. She had just awoken from a nap, and could feel that sleep wouldn’t soon easily return to her.
The queen stretched her legs and buzzed her wings with a long yawn. Even her mighty wings were incapable of lifting her body, and she took pride in it; the age of austerity, of small batches, was finally over again for a time. Her legs carelessly slammed into her gut, striking whatever unfortunate foals were beneath them. Her forelegs pressed in deeply where her forehooves met her swell, while her hindlegs splayed behind her to rest against a bulge and prevent them from dangling uncomfortably, for her. There was a small window—comparatively—through which she could observe her children; while her transparent membrane revealed all of them set against the flesh, she could only see those directly around her thorax, and not even all of them. The lucky foals directly in front of her head occasionally saw a fang-filled smile, and even felt the rare affectionate rub from her hoof. They may be able to connect her consumption of love in all its forms to their satisfaction. All others were condemned to even more ignorance of their existence, with those at the bottom—or surrounded on all sides by their siblings deep inside—enshrouded in darkness.
https://www.fimfiction.net/story/582238/1/tall-tales-of-the-one-true-queen-and-her-many-children/snug-in-a-bug
Snug in a Bug
Queen Chrysalis lay flat on the floor of her hive, in a sense. She was alone, and not. She was rather still, and constantly, violently twitching. Her monstrously bloated belly rested underneath her, every one of her nooks and crannies filled with foals, dwarfing the rest of her body. It was lumpy with its contents, and had no clear shape; despite lifting her hooves well from the ground, it still bulged upwards so that its highest point was past her withers. The queen couldn’t tell, and wouldn’t care, but her thin spine twisted and curved along her gut, leaving her lounging on top in what would be a very uncomfortable position for any pony. She had nothing to do while she waited in the bowels of the cave system stretching from every direction around her, but to admire her body and the bodies of the children within her. She had read every book available to her many times over; she couldn’t plan her most recent military strategy any further, for this was her military strategy; and one of her born children was taking an awfully long time to return with her drink order. She had just awoken from a nap, and could feel that sleep wouldn’t soon easily return to her.
The queen stretched her legs and buzzed her wings with a long yawn. Even her mighty wings were incapable of lifting her body, and she took pride in it; the age of austerity, of small batches, was finally over again for a time. Her legs carelessly slammed into her gut, striking whatever unfortunate foals were beneath them. Her forelegs pressed in deeply where her forehooves met her swell, while her hindlegs splayed behind her to rest against a bulge and prevent them from dangling uncomfortably, for her. There was a small window—comparatively—through which she could observe her children; while her transparent membrane revealed all of them set against the flesh, she could only see those directly around her thorax, and not even all of them. The lucky foals directly in front of her head occasionally saw a fang-filled smile, and even felt the rare affectionate rub from her hoof. They may be able to connect her consumption of love in all its forms to their satisfaction. All others were condemned to even more ignorance of their existence, with those at the bottom—or surrounded on all sides by their siblings deep inside—enshrouded in darkness.