Bubble Vision

by remotaholic

Rating: everyone
Tags: Comedy, Bon-Bon, Derpy Hooves, Doctor Whooves, Lyra, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 4982

Wake up, am horse. What do? Eat muffins, of course.

A second-person fic involving you getting turned into Derpy Hooves.
Shit happens, and hilarity ensues.

Each part will be quite short, but I intend to update relatively often.

Cover art by Ritzy Kinetic

Published 2014-01-20 21:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-02-06 21:03:06 UTC

Part 1.

Today is Friday, the last day of the school year. You sit at your desk, staring vacantly at the whiteboard and resting your head on your hands as your chemistry teacher drones on and on about the importance of your summer revision, or whatever. Your mind is too distracted by the thought of your upcoming holiday plans, and a quick look around the room reveals a similar expression on everyone else's faces. Glancing at your watch, you see it's 2:45. Another 20 minutes of this and you'll be free to enjoy the holidays the only way you know. By watching Ponies.

You trudge up the path to your small-ish house, your back straining against the heavy bag of homework you've been given. You fling your bag onto your bed without a glance, and flop down at your computer desk. You're just starting to get comfortable in your chair when the doorbell rings, which is odd. Your parents won't be home for hours, and nobody mentioned coming over to your house. Perplexed, you open the front door to see a small brown cardboard box with your name on it. This is odd, you didn't order anything. You glance up and look around, but there's no sign of any delivery van. You shrug and wander back inside, staring inquisitively at the box.

You grab a knife from the kitchen drawer and slit the packing tape on top of the box, curious as to what could be inside. Pulling apart the lid and tipping it out onto the kitchen table, you see...

"A Derpy plushie?!"

Incredulous, you check the box again, trying to see if there is any clue as to who could have sent you this. No return address, no note inside, nothing. Just a few foam packing pellets and a label with your name on it. Looking back to the plushie, you see that it's smiling at you with those two big, yellow eyes. One looking at the ceiling, the other at the floor, but you can tell it's meant to be looking forwards. The thing looks really cute, and you can't help but squee with delight. Whoever sent this to you must have known it was your favourite character, and you can't shake the feeling that it's a bribe or a hidden microphone to spy on you or something like that, as nobody liked you enough to just send you something as well-made as this for free. Oh well, free Derpy plushie! You can't really complain.

Turning the plush over in your hands, you notice that the felt has a very smooth, silky feel to it, as if you're stroking real fur. As you walk back up the stairs to your computer, the run your fingers absent-mindedly through its mane, feeling just how soft it is. It's quite relaxing, really.

You shake your computer's mouse and the screen springs to life as you open up steam and message each of your friends, asking if they know anything about it. None of them say they have, but they're all really jealous. You shrug, and turn back to the plushie which you've left sitting on your desk.

"Well, aren't you a cute little ball of mystery?"

Part 2.

You stare expectantly into the plush's beautiful golden eyes, but all it can do is return that cute little smile and that adorable wall-eyed stare. After a minute or so of just staring back at it, your eyes reluctantly drift back to your computer screen, and the hours melt by as you begin your marathon of FiM, and as you watch, you begin to make a game out of spotting Derpy in the background, leaning dangerously close to the screen to spot her. By the tenth episode, however, your eyes begin to ache, most likely because of the bright colours bombarding your eyes. Before you can worry about this, however, your mobile rings, the screen lighting up to show your father’s face. You hit answer.

"Hey dad. What's up?"

"Afternoon, son. I just wanted to let you know that your mother and I will be away together for the weekend, so you'll need to look after yourself for a while, alright?"

"Uhh, I guess that would be okay."

"Okay, great. See you later, son!"

Your father hangs up, and you do a mental fist-pump as you think about all the things you could do for two days without anyone nagging. You could eat fast food, invite some friends over, play your computer games without headphones...

Turning back to your phone, you send texts to each of your friends, arranging for them all to come to your house to watch the new episode of FiM which is coming out tomorrow afternoon. It's the beginning of the fourth season, and you're the only one with access to the hub in your little group of brony friends, so you expect an enthusiastic reply. Within minutes all three of your friends have agreed to come so far, most likely because, just like you, they have nothing better to do.

Your stomach rumbles angrily as you realise you haven't eaten anything since got home. Man, that plush has really thrown your schedule out of wack, hasn't it? You part walk, part slide down the stairs as you rub your eyes, trying in vain to expel the annoying ache. Your parents aren't going to be back until moday, so you pry open your ancient freezer and begin searching for the most delicious, unhealthy food you can find.

Nothing really takes your fancy, so you pull out a pizza and set the oven, drumming your fingers against the the hard, wooden table as you wait for the oven to reach temperature. The ache in your eyes has pretty much stopped, but they stll feel kinda weird, and you rub them once more, your fingertips making circles over your eyelids as your palms press flat against your face.
You've really got to stop spending so much time staring at that dang screen.

3 hours later

You hunger sated and still no luck in finding who could have sent you the plushie, you pry yourself from your computer chair, knocking the derpy plush over as you do so. You lean forward and stand the thing back upright, stifling a yawn as you realise it's getting late. You don't want to, but you need your sleep, so you toss the plushie onto your bed and begin changing into your pyjamas. You can't be bothered with a shower, so you flick the lights off and practically fall into your bed, snuggling up with the plushie wrapped in your arms. You gently caress its soft, dandelion mane with a thumb as you think about the events of the day. Why would anyone send you a plushie like this? What's it meant to do? You need answers, but have no way of getting them. You sigh and close your eyes, trying to ignore the impending sense of doom.

The next morning, the bright sunlight streaming through your window and onto your face rouses you from your slumber. You ease one eyelid open and yawn, reaching up with a hand to brush something big and yellow out of your face. As your eye comes into focus, however, you see something round and grey where your arm should be. You snap awake in shock and your eyes stretch unnaturally wide as you stare up at it, not willing to comprehend what you're seeing.

"What the BUCK?"

Part 3.

Your mouth slams shut just as quickly as it opened as you realize that isn't your voice. It's far too high pitched, and you just said buck! That's a pony swear! Okay, deep breaths. Work out what the hell has happened to you now, freak out later.

You lie there on your side for a while, just staring at that round, grey thing hanging where your hand should be. You have a pretty good idea what it is, but just... How? You flex the 'arm' experimentally, your heart sinking as you feel the lack of fingers. You wave it about in front of your face, noting that it's very much your own limb. You throw your duvet to the floor with a flick of your other... hoof and you crane your freakishly long neck around to see what else has happened overnight.

Lying on the bed in front of you in the place your body should be sits a small, grey cartoon pony. Your jaw hangs open and your pupils shrink rapidly as you stare at it with one eye, the other still fixed on your strange new appendage.

Wait, what?

And now you're back on the edge of freaking out. It's clear what's happened to you, and it seriously worries you, but this? You're not sure if you can take this. With considerable effort you manage to focus on the end your nose, which you suppose is now a muzzle, if you want to use the correct terms. You watch your new pony belly rise and fall as you breathe deeply, and allow yourself a moment to think. So you're Derpy now. That's cool. No! This most certainly is not 'cool'! What will your parents think? What will anyone think? You're a cartoon character from a show for little girls for Celestia's sake!

You've tried to avoid it, but there's no stopping it now. You fold your legs against your body and curl into a tight ball, shaking uncontrollably as the full realization of what's happened to you hits you in full force. This isn't your body. You can't be a pony. It's not possible! Large, soaking wet tears roll down the sides of your muzzle from your huge, misaligned eyes.

You don't know how long you lie there for, but eventually you manage to pull your thoughts together. You may not be human any more, but you're not just going to sit here and wallow in your own self-pity for the rest of your life. It's clear now what the plushie's purpose was, but you're still worried about why this happened to you of all people. You have more important problems than that right now however, and your attention turns to thoughts of getting something to eat. Whatever crazy voodoo magic that plushie had on it, you can worry about it later. A heavy sigh escapes your mouth as your tongue hangs amazingly far out the side of your mouth, fond memories all the delicious foods your new pony stomach won't be able to digest flashing before your eyes. Bacon, burgers, buckets of fried chicken...

Oh, why must you torture yourself like this? It's bad enough not being able to look in specific directions, but over-thinking things like this isn't going to help anything. Okay, next order of business: find something to eat.

You shuffle to the edge of the bed and stare apprehensively at the floor, noting how much larger everything has become. You raise your right foreleg and tentatively lean forward, the tip your hoof making contact with the hard, smooth surface of a floorboard. You gradually shift more and more of your weight to the hoof before reaching down to do the same with your left foreleg, leaving only your hind legs balanced precariously on the edge of your bed as you realize you don't know what to do now.

As you ponder your next move, however, your forelegs slide out from under you, your hind legs dropping painfully onto the floor and your face slamming into the floorboards. Welp, that's one way to do it.

Part 4.

"Owww!"

You groan, pressing a hoof to your forehead in a futile attempt to stem the pain. You're not too badly hurt, in fact your hind legs are fine, although your muzzle feels like you just got hoofed in the face by Snowflake, since it took the brunt of the impact. The pain fades relatively quickly, but it still hurts to know that Derpy does things like this all the time. You shudder, it feels really weird thinking about the pony who is essentially YOU in the third person like that. What if you can't prove you're actually human? You are just a little pony.

Just a little pony...

"No!"

You shout to yourself, sniffling slightly and mentally scolding yourself for being so negative. If you want to get anywhere like this, you'll have to avoid having any more nervous breakdowns. Shakily, you angle your front hooves level with the floor and press down, lifting your head off the ground and raising your neck, the new definition of 'up' confusing you for a moment. "You can do it, Derpy." You whisper reassuringly to yourself, before pressing downward with your hind legs, lifting your rear end off the ground and standing up fully for the first time in your new pony body. It's a small accomplishment, but you're proud of it nonetheless.

That smile soon fades as you realise you just referred to yourself as Derpy. Ugh, why did your brain have to change along with your body? Come to think of it, what IS your name? You think for a moment, tilting your head and staring (approximately) up at the ceiling. No matter how hard you try, the only name you can ever remember having is Derpy. You know you had a different name when you were human, but it's simply not there, as if all memory of it had simply been wiped from your memory. You don't want to think too hard about what else has been changed in your mind, but you've definitely been thinking with ponyisms since waking up, and there's always that small problem that you've been turned into a BUCKING CARTOON CHARACTER. Whoever did this to you is going to get a hoof to the face.

Turning back to the task at hoof, you raise a foreleg in preparation to step forward, the opposite leg lifting automatically to keep yourself balanced. It's an odd feeling, but it comes surprisingly easily to you, as if you've been walking this way your whole life. You rock forward on your remaining two legs, allowing your foreleg to make contact with the ground once again before taking another tentative step forwards.

"Ugh, this is taking forever!"

You groan, your empty stomach rumbling in agreement. Ah, yes. Food! Satisfied that you can balance on all fours properly, you begin to slowly and carefully trot in a circle around you room. It feels a lot like walking on your hands and knees, only your legs aren't dragging along the floor and it actually feels comfortable this way. Now that you're confident you won't be tripping over your own hooves, you stumble clumsily over to the door. You bend your forelegs together and jump upwards, catching the door handle in your teeth and pulling downwards. After a bit more stumbling to walk backwards on your hind legs, the door swings open and you drop back down onto all fours with a thud. You make a mental note to leave all the doors open in your house from now on, those handles are clearly not designed for ponies.

You trot cautiously into the landing, your head swinging from side to side as you settle on where to go next. You're in dire need of a muffin, but you need to take a good look at yourself first. You canter over to the bathroom, the door thankfully swinging open at a nudge from your muzzle. You approach the sink and repeat what you did with the door, latching onto the edge of the sink your forelegs and hoisting yourself up. You look expectantly up to the mirror placed above the sink and, sure enough, the spitting image of Derpy stares straight back at you. It takes a little effort, but you manage to get your eyes to both look in the same direction and properly focus on your face. (http://i.imgur.com/KOhQ6cU.png)

You giggle softly to yourself in that weird, high-pitched voice as you make all the expressions you remember from the show. You scrunch up your nose and turn your head to the side, allowing your eyes to drift apart again in a perfect imitation of the 'Derpy scrunchy face'. You flop your ears about playfully, in the same way you would have moved your eyebrows as a human. It looks quite silly, but at the same time it's also kind of cute, those two furry triangles twisting to catch every sound available to them. You can hear the traffic outside, the birds fluttering between the trees, and the people walking down your driveway, even from way up here and through a window.

Wait, people coming down your driveway?

Oh. Crap.

Part 5.

Crap, you'd forgotten about inviting your friends! You take one last glance at the mirror, reaching up with a hoof to push some of your mane out of your eyes. You turn away from the sink, dropping back down onto all fours and trotting over to the stairs. Said stairs, however, look like they're going to be a big problem for you. One glance at them tells you that a single trip will send you crashing down to the bottom and, knowing Derpy from the show, you'll probably leave a muzzle-shaped dent in the floorboards if you do.

The doorbell rings as you stand with your front hooves just slightly over the edge and try to force your eyes back into alignment so you contemplate your next move. Despite quite some effort, you find you cannot. That's odd, you could do that easily only a few minutes ago. That can wait, though. You reach a hoof forwards and place it on the next step down, then follow with the other. You then take a step with a rear leg, and swing around so that you're sideways with three hooves on the same step, and one still on the landing. The doorbell rings again, you're friends are getting impatient.

"Just a minute guys!" you shout towards the door, remembering too late that your voice is different. What are your friends going to think? How are they going to react when they see a grey, blonde-haired, fictional pegasus pony with an eye problem standing in the doorway? Maybe you should've just pretended you weren't here.

You continue your slow descent, moving to stand sideways on each step before shuffling down to the next one. It takes a while, but eventually you reach the floor, getting that warm feeling of accomplishment again. You trot over to the door, and hop up with your forelegs once again, gripping the handle in your teeth. You pause. Should you really be doing this? You release your grip on the handle. You don't actually know if the people out there are your friends.
What if they're the people that gave you that plushie, and they've come to kidnap you and sell you on the black market, or worse? You should probably use some sort of test.

"Who is best pony?" You ask to the door, shouting slightly to make sure you can be heard outside. Immediately, three voices respond from outside.

"Bon-bon!"
"Lyra!"
"Doctor Whooves!"

Yep, those are your friends alright.

"Also, uh, what's up with your voice? You got a cold or something?" One of them asks. You can't exactly tell who it is through the door.

"Not exactly. I'll explain once you're inside. Just promise not to freak out, okay?"

"Um, okay then... Yeah, sure."

You grip the door handle again and pull open the door, letting it swing open to reveal you to your three friends: James, Isaac and Jake. Isaac, who is in front of the other two, steps forward as if to enter. He then looks down and sees you. He freezes.

"What..."

Part 6.

"What..."

The three exchange glances, but don't say anything. They just go back to staring at you like you're some physical impossibility. Oh, wait, that's right.

"You promised not to freak out!" you break the silence, lightly mocking the three. You aren't really angry, of course, you'd never dare upset your friends that way.

"Yeah, well... I wasn't really expecting something like this." Isaac manages to vocalize. You can't help but giggle at that. Nobody would ever have expected to see a pony quite this way.

Well, that's fair enough you suppose. "You know, this is really uncomfortable just having the three of you stare at me like that." you break the awkward silence again. "Come inside, I don't want anypony else to see me."

With that, you turn tail and trot towards your kitchen, thankfully situated just to the right of the front door. You still haven't had breakfast, maybe your friends could help you get something to eat. Your ears twitch at the sound of the front door clicking shut, signifying that your friends are finally inside.

"Hey Derpy, is there anywhere I can hang my coat?" Identifying the voice as Jake's, you spin around on the spot and point a hoof towards the wall next to him. He begins to remove his coat, but stops suddenly. He then slowly turns around, and points at you.

"Wait, did I just call you Derpy?" You can tell he is very confused.

Oh ponyfeathers, you hadn't even noticed that. Was it possible that whatever had transformed you, had affected the minds of your friends, too? What else could it have affected? It's a scary thought, and you really don't want to think about it right now. Still, Jake noticed, so you'll have to explain what you know.

"Yeah, you did. I've been calling myself that too. For some reason, I can't think of any other name, and I expect you'll find the same too. I.. I don't really want to think about it." A hint of distress creeps into your voice as you finish your sentence, and your friends clearly picked up on it. Jake and James exchange another glance, whilst Isaac crouches down in front of you.

"Hey, don't worry about it." He says, and reaches over to touch your mane. You shiver at the unexpected touch, but quickly relax and sit on your haunches as he begins to stroke slowly down your neck, a very comforting feeling.

"Now, do you need any help with anything? It must be pretty hard to do anything with hooves." You sigh and nod, before getting back up and walking into the kitchen, with your friends following close behind. You really feel like eating a muffin, but you're fairly sure there aren't any in the house. Snack food wasn't really something your parents ever bothered to stock up on. You jab a hoof at the fridge, and Isaac silently opens it for you. You jump up so that your front hooves rest against the bottom shelf, and begin the search for something worth eating. At least, you'd like to, but your eyes don't seem to want to cooperate. Neither one seems to be pointing the direction you want to look, so you instead close one of them and just move your head to look around. It works, but it still worries you, as you had no problems with it earlier. You must still be changing, gradually.

Now that you're actually able to look around, you glance around the insides of the fridge. On the bottom shelf there are some packaged sausages and a box of vegetables. The sausages look nice, but the slight smell escaping from their packages tells you otherwise. Either they're well past their sell by date, or your new pony nose just doesn't like meat. It's probably something to do with the fact that ponies don't eat meat. You're not going to explain it, you're not a biologist.

You can't see what's on the higher shelves, but you doubt there'd be anything worth eating for breakfast anyway. Instead, you drop down and close the fridge, then point at a bag of cereal on a high shelf across the room.

"Hey, could you get that down for me please?"

James, being the nearest to the shelf, reaches up and pulls it down. You grab it from him in your teeth and trot over to the nearby table, but soon realize you have no clue what to do next. Isaac seems to have noticed though, and acquires a bowl and spoon for you. You smile and thank him as he pours some of the cereal into your bowl. It's great having your friends here to help you, but it's rather degrading having to get their assistance to do the most basic of tasks.

As he places a spoon next to the bowl, your left eye picks up a flash of beige.

You turn to look at Isaac, and he begins scratching his left hand distractedly. You look down at it, and it your eyes go wide.
On the back of Isaac's hand, is a small patch of light beige fur. The same hand he used to stroke your hair with.

Part 7.

Does this mean that he's going to turn into a pony, just like you? Whatever is causing this, it must have been passed on when he touched you. Ugh, this is gonna get complicated fast. You decide to point it out to him, that way you can both work out what to do.

"Hey, uh, Isaac?"

"Yeah, Derpy?" You pause. Isaac looks up at you expectantly, as do Jake and James. Oh Celestia, why is this so hard for you? Just tell him already, he won't bite! At least, that's what you want to think. You really have no idea how he'll react to this.

"Why don't you go and play some games in the living room? I don't want to see you guys get bored." Dangit Derpy! that wasn't right. Oh well, too late now. The guys nod silently, and leave the kitchen. Soon, the sound of a Wii starting up (yeah, you're that kind of gamer) confirms that they'll be distracted for a while. You turn back to your breakfast, and try to work out how you're going to eat this. You're definitely not dexterous enough yet to pick up the spoon in your hooves, so you instead reach down and hold it in your mouth.

That seems to work. Now you just pick up some cereal in the spoon, and... oh. You drop the spoon back into the bowl and facehoof, it's a good thing your friends didn't see that. You opt instead to eat straight out of the bowl. It's not something you could have done as a human, but your long muzzle makes it easy enough, and nopony's watching you, anyway, so you don't mind being a little messy. It is rather degrading, however. The cereal itself is a bit dry without milk, but it's good enough to fill you up. Besides, you have worse things to deal with right now. You leave the bowl with a few bits sitting in it, and trot over to the living room and peek in, to see the three of them gathered around your television, playing a fighting game of some sort. Isaac seems to be having trouble pressing some of the buttons, and you're fairly sure you know why...

You trot into the room and hop up onto the sofa between Isaac and James. A yelp comes from you right, and you realize you just swatted James in the face with your tail. Ugh, you'll probably never get used to having that. You mumble an apology and shuffle awkwardly into position between the two of them, careful not to crush your tail. On the cushions behind you. Isaac glances down at you, but says nothing. As you can tell from everypony's faces, you're the elephant in the room. Or, rather, pony. You decide to get the ball rolling.

"So. I got turned into a pony." You state to the room. It's kinda obvious, but you just wanted to confirm it in case your friends think they're crazy or something.

Isaac pauses the game and looks down at you. His face shows concern, but also slight amusement.

"Yeah, we noticed." Well, there's still one thing he hasn't noticed yet... You sigh.

"And I think you're turning into one too." You say, looking back up at Isaac. He looks even more confused, so you lift your left hoof and point to his right hand. He stares at it for a moment, mouth half open.

"...I see." He manages to utter, his eyes flicking between your hoof and his hand. The fur seems to have spread since you last looked at it, and his fingers seem to be curling together He clearly doesn't know what to do in this situation, and neither do you.

"Which pony?" For the first time today, Jake says something. You manage to aim your left eye at him, and grin. That's typical jake, always finding something funny about a situation. You're pretty sure it's Bon-Bon, since the fur colour matches up, and he did say Bon-Bon was his favourite character earlier. It's a shame, since you always thought of Isaac as more similar to Rarity.

"Bon-Bon, I think. The more important question is why." Your friends nod in agreement. It would definitely help to get some answers as to what's going on.

"Hey, didn't you touch Derpy's hair earlier, Isaac?" James asks. He's right, that must be the cause: touching other ponies. Maybe that plushie was carrying some sort of disease, or magic? Yet another a scary thought.

"Yes, I.. oh dear." Isaac seems to have come to the same conclusion as you, and you notice Jake slide further down the sofa. James, on the other hand, seems far more interested with his hair. For some reason it looks longer and... lighter coloured.

Well shit.