White Mares Be Cray

by Rainen D Avernathy

Rating: teen
Tags: Princess Celestia, Sweetie Belle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Comedy, Rarity, Random
Length: 1343

Sweetie Belle makes gains and finds adventure in an otherwise normal day.

Being the most built, stacked, and jacked filly ever in Equestria has its advantages. With the strength to wow even the Princesses themselves, the previously tiny white unicorn has become a paragon among the fitness buffs of Ponyville. An immense strength such as her's would be chronicled forever by the greatest of scholars... Or will it?

Published 2014-11-15 07:30:10 UTC
Last updated 2014-11-15 07:30:10 UTC

Sweetie Belle Gets Swole

On a day like no other, everyone’s favorite white and purple unicorn filly rose to the sweet vitamin D tears of Celestia’s solar charge. Her keen eyes darted to her dull brass alarm clock. Five minutes before her alarm. She waited, patient as a hunter, for the klaxon to blare. Milliseconds before the cacophony, it was vaporized by her masterfully sculpted quadriceps.

“Yeah.” She grunted, huffing six hundred CC’s of pure motivation from her stark white teeth.

Rising from her sheets, she galloped to the restroom for a refresher. Shortly thereafter, she made for the front door; stopping only briefly to fill a water bottle.

“Rarity, I’m going to the gym. Don’t forget it’s leg day.” The filly called upstairs, then left the house.

The sleepy mare didn't hear. She rolled over lazily - Rarity always skipped leg day. Sweetie took a long draught from her hydration source, looking about the town casually. Her sparkly magic held the vessel as she walked, creating an aura of such magnificence Luna herself would swoon.

“Hey, Sweetie Belle! Where are you off to?” Pipsqueak asked nosily, trotting alongside the resplendent specimen of a biological creature.

“The gym. The place you should be, fuckboy. Do you even squat?” Sweetie replied, cramming her chiseled face into the Cockney accented foal’s snout. He visibly recoiled.

By recoiled, I mean, he freaking dug himself a new home underneath the earth previously beneath his hooves, all to escape the indomitable wrath that was… Swole Sweetie. Now comfy in his refurbished dirt pit, the filly kept on her trot towards her throne of an establishment, the gym. An establishment of which the doors were blown open by her sheer presence. Knowing that it was the Goddess of Fitness’ leg day, the manager had replaced all of the other machines with rowers, squat racks, and leg presses. Her colossal hoofsteps rattled the weights aligned on the back of the single room, shattering the mirrors that were plastered to the walls. This was the third time this week. The manager was going to be out another six hundred bits. The lesser ponies milling about at the perimeter of the room dropped their weights from their mouths and wings, bowing before her almighty physique.

“You may lift.” She granted them, sweeping her head across the room to look at each one.

Using only one leg, she started with a two hundred pounder balanced on her flank, doing three inch raises on her solid hooves. With all utter sense of physics destroyed, she proceeded to squat physics itself, threatening to destroy everything ever. The gym’s floor nearly turned into an inverted matter space - or a Sea of Dirac for you science people - causing all other gymnasts to fall into its endless black depths. Her set complete, she dropped the weight into the sanguine morass as well. Physics being returned to the lesser plane of existence on which she normally tread, she exhaled, looking about her favorite workout spot. All matter having been removed from the area, including the gym itself, she nodded to herself in righteous success. Her leg day complete, she trotted off to school in hopes of learning how to crush her enemies with knowledge as well.

Simply phasing through the door, she tossed her water bottle deftly into a nearby cubby hole, atomizing the previous owner’s personal effects. Finding her usual seat nearest the closest things to equivalent beings she could find on the entire planet, her companions greeted her with cheerful, under-muscled smiles.

“You’re lucky I love you damn plebeians…” She muttered under her breath, the bass tones being so subtle and intense at the same time that an entire empire of ant colonies in the schoolyard collapsed.

“Okay class, today we’re going to learn about implosion type nuclear arms. Specifically, lithium te- Where’s Pip?” Cheerilee asked from her desk, finally looking up from her thick textbook propped up in front of her.

The class was silent, looking around nervously. Sweetie Belle was totally unphased, holding her head high. Using her immaculate ear muscles, she began to vibrate the air of the single room schoolhouse so intensely. She was trying to vibrate it to the exact opposite frequency at which Pip existed, superseding sonar as an advanced form of aural location. However, this technique yielded no positive results inside the building. Threatening to destroy the structural integrity of the school itself, she pushed her senses outwards, attempting to locate the comically English foal on the exterior of the building.

“I have found him.” Her ominous voice projected, piercing the silence like a spear through a boar’s hide.

“W-well, Sweetie Belle, where is he?” Cheerilee asked timidly, entirely unsure of how the young filly had found him without even turning her head.

Sweetie’s eyes opened with the sound of Heaven’s Gates, “He is in the schoolyard. His rear right leg appears to be trapped… underneath the school! I must save him, for no mere mortal present could!”

Leaping from her desk and sailing out of the window, which lagged in shattering as the epicness of such a stunt took a full sixty seconds to truly appreciate, she landed outside with the magnitude of eight JDAMs. However, commanding the earth itself not to shatter, the ground remained whole and even more pristine than before she had alighted upon its surface. The rest of the school children gathered about the still intact windows to witness what would become of Pipsqueak and his soon-to-be hero.

“Fear not, weakling, for I have come to rescue you from your demise.” She announced, almost warranting the previous line to be written in all caps.

Pipsqueak was sobbing uncontrollably, his leg wedged without explanation underneath the crimson walls of Ponyville’s one and only schoolhouse. Approaching the foal, she squinted, her eyebrows becoming so dynamically shadowed that they threatened to cast shades and lines across the landscape itself. Hooking her powerful forelegs underneath the wall’s edge, she began to lift, straining every fiber of her being to move such an enormous load. As the structure was just beginning to raise, and the children were screaming in fright, she suddenly met the greatest resistance of her life. The power of a lesser god himself.

“Foolish Sweetie Belle, thinking yourself swole enough to compete against my power!” A world cracking voice boomed.

A dark shadow fell over the area as the great black cloak of the Angel Zeruel blotted out the sun. His voluminous black and white robes were adorned with cuneiform and ancient runes. Having traveled the planes of existence for millennia, Zeruel was the angel of strength, and had passed himself as a lonely wizard during his time learning from mortals. His immense heavenly weight pressed the schoolhouse back into the earth, mocking Sweetie Belle’s strength entirely. He chuckled, his stark white halo appearing about his skull-like head as his body levitated to the sky, leaving the filly’s hopes and dreams crushed by the utter weakness she had been shown in herself - as well as her tendons and muscular structure - all by the Angel who had come and passed.

* * *

“Sweetie Belle…? Sweetie Belle, I’m going to the gym. Don’t forget it’s leg day.” Rarity’s cheery, sweet as bells voice echoed inside her head, drawing her from the nightmare she been entrapped by.

Her eyes wearily opening, just at the crack of dawn, minutes before her alarm. Her older sister was walking to the door and fetching her own water bottle. Then she saw it. Rarity’s artisan crafted musculature and physique dominating the morning scene. She was the most magnanimous yet mocking creature she had ever witnessed. Her entire presence that morning, being the first thing to wake to after such a psychologically crushing defeat, broke her. She didn't move an inch, just shut her tiny emerald eyes and wept quietly as Rarity trotted off to her throne of fitness. A mental hoof in the face. A shattering of inner mirrors, echoing inside her.

Sweetie Belle always skipped leg day.