Auto's Authentic Anecdotesby AutocharthChaptersMay Drabble - Stainless KeyMay Drabble - themunckMay Drabble - June Drabble - themunckAugust Drabble - themunckSeptember Drabble - themunckJuly Drabble - themunckMay Drabble - Stainless KeySpike and Twilight doing something - no shipping Justice Itself spoilers! Ye have been warned, mere mortals! - One week after the defeat of Tirek “Twilight?” Spike asked, voice quiet as he relaxed. It took a few moments for Twilight to answer, her attention fixed to the book before her. Her candle, she noticed, was burning dangerously low, wax threatening to dribble onto her desk. “Yes?” “Where do...” He began, only to fade away, hesitation killing his question. She waited without turning from her book. Nearly a minute passed before she realised he hadn’t finished. Tearing herself away from the book, Twilight looked to her bed and the little drake laying there. “Spike?” she asked, a hint of worry entering her voice. “What were you asking?” He shrugged. “Nothing, really. I just...I wondered…” “You wondered…?” Twilight gently urged. Her horn lit, a bookmark slipping between the pages as her book closed behind her. Again, he hesitated, and this time turned over. Not fast enough to hide the look on his face. Twilight’s frown deepened, and her chair scraped across the floor as she stood up from her desk. Clearly this called for more than just asking, and Twilight decided to borrow a page from Pinkie’s book….albeit with some heavy editing. Spike was too busy staring at the wall to notice her approach until she lay next to him and her hooves wrapped around him in a gentle hug. “If something is wrong, you can tell me,” she murmured. She felt him go stiff, then, slowly, begin to relax as the hug went on. Twilight smiled; Pinkie was right, a hug could make anypony happy. “I promise, I won’t be mad.” For nearly a minute, neither said another word. They simply relaxed in the warmth of family, and they “W-where did...where did Paladin go?” His voice trembled, but he asked nonetheless. Her calm breath caught for a moment, and she felt a tremble in the scaly body curled against her. He’d caught it, but she simply gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Paladin…” Twilight started. ‘Became Tyrael, and left to protect his own world,’ is what she wanted to say. It was what she knew Spike had been told. It was, from any perspective, the truth. Spike, from any perspective, was a child who knew that. Yet he asked. “Paladin,” She began again, “didn’t go anywhere.” “...huh?” He turned his head to look up at her, brow furrowed in confusion. Unsure of herself for a moment, Twilight found the words spilling out before she knew what they were. “He’s still here. I know, he’s not here in person. He’s not here in the body at the hospital. Paladin didn’t go anywhere because we’re still here. The two of us, and our friends…” Finally, Twilight caught up with her own subconscious, and she nuzzled Spike. “Everypony in Equestria is here, because of Paladin, and that’s why he’s still here.” Spike snorted, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “Great, you’re being sappy…” She chuckled, running a hoof along his fins. “A little, but that doesn’t make me wrong. Paladin might not be down in the spare room anymore, but he’s still with us. He’s our friend, and everything we can remember him for means he’s not going to be gone for good.” “Hrmm…” Spike adjusted himself, squirming against her, and despite her best efforts Twilight felt a giggle rush out as the tip of his tail brushed across her stomach. They both went very still. Spike grinned. Twilight gulped. With devious, serpentine movements, his tail began to twitch gently... “No, Spike, st-sto-opphfa! Ahaha, s-sto-o-opppahah!” Her shouts dissolved into giggling as his tail wrecked ticklish torture on the plush fur of her belly, and soon the quiet peace of the night had been replaced by the laughter of a devious dragon and maddened giggles of his sister. * Fin. * May Drabble - themunck[Bloodlines] Dash and Applejack go on a date Humanised Non-canon to Bloodlines.....probably. Applejack took a sip of her drink, sighed happily, and dropped her arm around her girlfriend. She got to enjoy that for a few seconds before she felt the girl begin to squirm. The ranger glanced down over the rim of her tankard, and grinned. “Well, don’t y’all look darlin’,” she remarked with a snicker and a squeeze. Dash poked Applejack’s arm, scowling. “I look stupid,” she grumbled, and lightly kicked Applejack’s leg. “Why do you get pants? I want pants! This thing is all froufrou and annoying and I want pants.” Shrugging, Applejack kept her arm in place. It wasn’t her fault the fine attire had pants, but she couldn’t lie to herself; she was happy to see Dash in a dress. The lithe thief pulled it off better than Dash wanted to admit, and the light blue fabric seemed to just go with her hair perfectly. “Why did we have to dress up anyway?” Dash went on. “I like my normal stuff.” “Heh,” chortled Applejack. She gestured with the hand holding her drink. “Ya think they would have let us in here if we’d been in our usual gear?” Their rich surroundings were practically wrapping the pair in decadence and wealth. The wood panels with fine carvings, polished marble tiles, everything Twilight had promised for the two of them. “I coulda talked my way in,” Dash asserted, flashing a confident grin at Applejack. Despite her complaints, she had settled rather well against the larger woman, and her own drink was being drained even faster. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Rainbow.” Smiling, Applejack glanced about the private room. It really was rich, almost overwhelmingly so. She could almost smell the excessive decadence. It wasn’t until Dash spoke up that she even realised what she’d done. “What’s wrong?” demanded Dash. She gave Applejack a look through narrow eyes, watching the ranger for any sign of a lie. “I can tell, bumpkin, so don’t pretend you’re fine.” Applejack shrugged again, delaying her answer with a gulp of hot cider from her tankard. She felt Dash poking her again, insistently, until she lowered her drink with a sigh. “This place is real fancy and all, sugar, and I know Twi’ went to a lot of effort gettin’ us this, but...well…” She hesitated, the words on the tip of her tongue. Guilt glued the truth to it, however, and so she searched for a moment for a polite way to say it. A grin broke out on Dash’s face. “But it’s not really your kinda thing?” she asked. Applejack nodded, and said, “Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m just bein’ a country bumpkin in the big city, but this kinda thing is—” Lips, softer than she would have imagined, cut her off. The taste of cider didn’t quite cover what was the distinct flavour of Dash. Applejack closed her eyes, returning the kiss until Dash drew back. Neither said a word as they relaxed in the simple enjoyment of such an intimate act. “Ain’t my thing either,” Dash said. She trembled slightly, and Applejack was worried until she realised the slender thief was laughing quietly. There was a wicked gleam in Dash’s eyes as she gazed up at her. “I knew I was gonna outlast you.” “...” Applejack stared down at her, mouth hanging open for a second. “...did...did you ask Twilight for this, just so ya could see which of us would got uncomfortable first?” Dash didn’t say anything, but her wide, cocky smirk was more than enough. It took every ounce of Applejack’s willpower to avoid dumping her drink on her partner’s head. “You’re a damn nuisance,” she growled, but under it was the faint hint of laughter. Her revenge came swiftly; the contents of her drink went down in one gulp, and the ranger rose. She brought Dash with her, and ignoring the yelp, Applejack threw her over her shoulder. “Hey! What’s the deal?” Applejack grinned. “This is meant to be a date, sugar. I’m thinkin’ we find a tavern, drink ‘em dry and see where we go from there.” Dash fell silent for a few seconds, turning the idea over in her head. “Okay, I like that plan. Onward!” Laughing, Applejack ignored the scandalised look on the doorman’s face as they burst out into the cool evening air. “Just remember, Rainbow, I’m wearing the pants.” * Fin. * May Drabble - May Drabble - Twilight and Pinkie Pie play chess. Twilight smiled across the table at her opponent, not without a tiny hint of condescension. She shouldn’t be so cocky, she knew. It was unbecoming, and certainly rude to her guest. How would she have felt, had she been sitting opposite an ingenious unicorn who had dominated every tournament in Canterlot with ruthless, Princess-trained efficiency? ‘Oh Celestia, I’m turning into Rainbow Dash.’ “Sooooooo…” Pinkie dragged the word out, bouncing her hoof from piece to peace moment by moment. “What’s the little tower do again?” ‘Don’t...be...smug...’ “It moves in a straight line,” Twilight answered. Her gaze locked on the chess board with unwavering focus. “As far as you want, so long as it’s unobstructed.” Pinkie nodded, and moved an entirely different piece. ‘Ah, a Baltimare pincer.’ Twilight’s mental image of the board jumped forward a few turns. ‘I move my knight, and next she’ll move her...yes, that pawn, which means after my next turn...’ Her smile trembled, the urge to smirk nearly overcoming her modesty. ‘Checkmate.’ “As I was saying; ‘I looked at him all like ‘whoa, too far!’ but he didn’t notice, I think because of all the hot sauce in his eyes,” Pinkie said, resuming her story. Her attention didn’t so much ‘waver’ as ‘skitter about wildly’. “Mhmm.” Nodding, Twilight carefully moved her piece. “Your turn.” Pinkie moved a piece, giggling as she bumped over a rook. “There was all this shouting and yelling, but don’t worry, I have some vinegar to help clean him up! I dunno why, but that didn’t make him happy either! I don’t suppose you can use that big brain of yours to work out why?” Twilight nodded again. Her magic gently shifted her queen. ‘Nearly...’ “Great, what do you think-” Pinkie tapped a knight from one step to the next. “-checkmate- you can tell me?” ‘Alright, time to...’ Her magic grasping a bishop, the magenta aura trembled. Pinkie’s voice rang in her ears, bouncing about the scholarly mare’s head with a word she knew Pinkie couldn’t possibly have said. “...checkmate?” “Uh huh.” Pinkie’s smile was wide and genuine. “Do you think I should have used some lemonade to clean it out? I heard that’s good.” She blinked, cocking her head to the side as Twilight’s mane came to life. At least, locks began to spring out, turning the neat style into a ragged mess in seconds. Twilight’s eyes never left the chessboard. Pinkie leaned forward, trying to hear the words whispered from Twilight’s twitching lips. “When did- no, couldn’t have, I was- yes, was it- oh, no, maybe…” “Uh, Twilight?” Pinkie felt a flutter of worry. Fortunately it was completely dissipated when Twilight’s head jerked up, and her eyes pierced Pinkie’s soul with uttered need. “Rematch.” The word came out mechanically. Magic swirled around the board, gathering pieces, putting them in place. “Gee, I’d love to play again Twilight, but I gotta go foalsit-” began Pinkie Pie. Magic cut her off, sealing her mouth. “Rematch.” Twilight pinned her in place with a glare. “That was….that was a statistical error.” Pinkie was all smiles, and she was all smiles until she won. “Rematch.” “...I guess the Cakes won’t mind if my lunch lasts a little longer…” Half an hour later… “Rematch.” “Just one more…” “Rematch.” “I’m getting kinda hungry.” “Rematch.” “Are you sure?” “Rematch.” “...” “Rematch.” Pinkie yawned. Rubbing her eyes, she blinked slowly. “Rematch.” Twilight sat as she had for the past few hours, her intense focus unbroken. Her stomach, she distantly noticed, was grumbling. This was regarded as irrelevant and promptly discarded by the rickety mooring that was her mind. “Twilight…” Despite her best efforts, Pinkie yawned again. Her eyelids drooped. Her body cried out for sleep, yet she forced her hoof to move her pawn. Each movement was slow and uncertain. Compared to machine-like speed of the unicorn opposite her, she was practically slothful. Twilight said nothing. There was no space for words in her mind. Only chess. Only the impossibly that she was losing to Pinkie Pie. As Pinkie’s rook slipped into place, she twitched and looked up. Their eyes met. “...” Pinkie shuddered. Why? She hadn’t meant to win. Why did every random, aimless movement win her each and every game? She gulped. “...c-checkmate…” “Rematch.” Hope arrived without warning, the door opening. In the moonlight of an unnoticed moonrise, Carrot Cake, Mister Cake, strode in. "Pinkie! You were supposed to come back from break hours ago!" "Help me Mister Cake! She won't let me leeeeeeeeeave!" Pinkie rolled onto her back, legs kicking in air like a turtle rolled onto its back, unable to save itself. Mr. Cake's eyes meet Twilight's for just a second, as a cold feeling begins to seep into his heart. Those eyes... They held a promise. He saw his life flash before his eyes. He saw every moment with his wife and children he had enjoyed, and how much he would miss those if he interrupted. He gulped. "... I'll just leave you to it then." “Noooooooo!” June Drabble - themunck[Bloodlines] Spike and Scootaloo go on a date Humanised Non-canon to Bloodlines.....probably. Silence. It ate away at him, at her, as they sat there. Oh, there was talking going on all around them, the bustle of waiters skirting between tables and the faint sound of hungry nobles eating. But between them was...silence. “Uh…” Spike cleared his throat. “Sorry.” Scootaloo looked up, her small frown vanishing as the fabric she had been inspecting settled back on her lap. “Eh? About what?” He gestured, a sweep of his arm taking in the restaurant. “For all this. I wanted to do something a bit more, you know, cool.” The girl blinked, cocking her head to the side, and Spike felt stupider by the second. He rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he could turn invisible. ‘Come on, stupid magic, now would be a great time. Learn invisibility. Now. Learn it. Come oooooon.’ “This place is kinda cool. Look at that lady! She’s wearing so much gold, she probably weighs, like four times as much as normal.” Pointing, Scootaloo blinked in surprise when Spike’s hand shot out and pushed hers down. “Don’t point! That’s Lady Gold Digger. She really, really holds grudges.” Spike shuddered. “Twilight ignored her once when they passed in the hall, and she just wouldn’t let it go.” Scootaloo snickered. “She ignored her? Wow, your mum is-” “She’s not my mum,” Spike cut in. He flushed, and smiled nervously. “Uh, sorry, go on.” Giving Spike an evil grin, making sure he knew she wasn’t forgetting this little button of his, Scootaloo went on; “She must be cool. Dash is her friend, so she has to be cool, but I thought she’d be all….noble-y.” Spike snorted. “Yeah, Twilight’s more ‘shut in scholar’ than noble. Anyway, let’s not talk about her. We’ve spent all that time in the tunnels, but we always…. we never...” “Talk about ourselves?” she finished. Scootaloo twirled a silver salad fork in her fingers, glancing off to the side. “Yeah, I guess. Not much to talk about with myself, I am who I am.” “A pickpocket and tunnel explorer?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s all?” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s all. I’m not some fancy noble boy who can do maaaaagic~” He watched her make a face, hands up and fingers wriggling at him. “Funny.” Scootaloo grinned. “I thought so!” She stopped, a frown taking its place as a fish fork spun on the tip of her finger. “Hey, who is your mum then?” ‘Where’s the food? I thought these fancy shmancy places were fast?’ The sorcerous lad played with his overabundance of cutlery. “Well...I’m an orphan,” he admitted after a moment. Her eyes brightened. “Really? Me too!” Scootaloo paused, brain catching up with her mouth, and she flushed. “Uh, I didn’t mean to sound so excited about that. Sorry.” “Don’t worry.” Spike waved it away. “I don’t remember my parents. I was, like, four. There was a fire. I guess the dragon blood skipped my parents. The Princess thinks that’s why I survived.” He said it without pain or worry, a simple fact and little more after so long. Taking a sip of his drink, he watched Scootaloo play with her polished meat fork. Neither spoke, the unexpectedly grim topic of conversation leaving both wondering where to go next. The arrival of food fixed that. “Oooh, look at it! There’s...less than I imagined?” Scootaloo looked under the thin slice of marinated meat, searching for the extra food that was surely hiding. “Also, I need a new fork.” “Just use whichever one, doesn’t matter which unless you’re Blueblood,” Spike said drily. “No…” She laughed nervously. “Uh, I mean, I don’t have any.” He looked up, cocking his head to the side. “What do you mean, you should have...heaps…” Scootaloo smiled, innocent as an angel, as he bore witness her empty side of the table. The water, too, stared. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Spike could have sworn he heard the faintest of tinkles as she shrugged helplessly, like knives and forks of polished silver rattling within the sleeves of her borrowed dress. ‘...Next time, sewer tunnel date. Definitely.’ Author's Note Am I the only one noticing a trend in themunck's one shots? August Drabble - themunckNormal Pony Applejack and Rainbow Dash discover Twilight's unfinished novel 'Bloodlines', and are unsure if they're being shipped or not. (Prompt paraphrased) Non-canon to Bloodlines. In the hallowed halls of the castle of friendship, two best friends shared a moment of silence. Rainbow Dash opened her mouth, words on the tip of her tongue. She took in the sight before her, eyes running across the words again. She closed her mouth. She felt a hoof on her shoulder, patting her. For a moment she considered shrugging it off. In light of what lay before her, it was even more important to do so. Still, she didn’t. The pegasus just sighed. Dash took a breath. “What.” That seemed to about cover it. “Eeyup,” muttered Applejack, nodding in agreement. Her hoof left Dash’s shoulder. The quiet swish of a page turning was the only sound in the room save their slow, uncertain breaths. Their eyes laid upon the words. The pair winced in perfect time, and a hot flush broke across Dash’s face. “N-no way….bathing together? You’re- you’re washing me! What the buck?!” Stepping back, Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Come on, this is a prank! It’s gotta be!” “I dunno, seems pretty real to me,” said Applejack. She pushed the manuscript to one side, and pointed at the others beneath it. “Look, she’s got a whole series of ‘em. She wouldn’t write that much just for a prank.” “That’s because she’s an egghead! She probably used magic, or she got so into it she wrote a whole series of books for a prank!” Swiping up the one they had been reading, Rainbow Dash waved it in her friend’s face. “I mean, come on, it’s egghead fantasy stuff. She even gave it a stupid fantasy title!” Pushing the manuscript and its red-ink title, ‘Bloodlines’, out of her face, Applejack raised an eyebrow at Dash. “Ya seems awful out of sorts when ya think its just a prank,” she pointed out. “....” Pressing a hoof against her face, Rainbow Dash let out a long groan. “Okay, so its not a prank! But come on, look at what she’s writing!” “I did, sugarcube. I think she’s writing us as havin’, you know…” The farmer frowned in thought. “What’s the phrase? Unresolved something tension?” Rainbow Dash shook her head. “No way. Come on. There’s no way Twilight would do that.” Neither said anything, both just looking at the manuscript again. Applejack coughed. “...would she?” The would-be novel hit the floor, and they were cramming their faces in a moment later as both sought the answer to their question. “She’s got this totally wrong. Why are you are the one exercising?” growled Dash. “‘Cause a thief don’t exercise, ‘least not like that,” Applejack replied. “See, yer like one of them monkey things. All that jumpin’ and climbin’ and all. All nimble like ya are when ya fly.” The pegasus flushed slightly. “Well, I am pretty agile,” she conceded proudly. “See? It ain’t so bad. Twilight might want us to kiss-” began the farmer, smiling, until the look on Dash’s face stopped her. “Sugarcube? Y’all okay?” “Kiss?!” After a moment, Applejack calmly picked up her hat and got her mane in order, wiping a drop of spittle from her cheek. “She wants us to kiss? Where does it say that? I don’t see it!” Pressing her face against the manuscript, she stared into the neat black script as if it might reveal the secrets of the local princess to her. “For landsakes, get a hold of yerself.” Applejack pulled Rainbow Dash away from it. She held the mare by the shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes. “Dash, its called ‘subtext’. Even I know what that is.” Rainbow Dash stared back, the colour slowly draining from her. Realisation reared its ugly head as she stared into Applejack’s eyes. “Oh Celestia...she totally wants us to snog!” September Drabble - themunckCelestia tries to introduce her sister to the wonders of modern technology. Luna only has eyes for the toaster. In the halls of Canterlot, decked in the beauty of many centuries of dynasty, a dynasty found in the form of but two ponies, Princess Celestia felt a headache forming alongside a very firm desire to have everything not invented in the past two decades thrown out. Along with the toaster. “Wondrous,” gasped Princess Luna, wide eyes peering into the abyss of wire and cherry-red grid within its majestic square frame. “Truly, this is a creation for all the ages to appreciate.” Biting back a sigh, Princess Celestia nodded. “Yes, toasters are very impressive,” she agreed. “Of course, they are just one application of such technology. Another device invented not longer after based on the same principles was-” “A larger toaster?” “What? No- I mean, yes, there are such things, but that isn’t what I meant,” said Celestia, brow furrowing. Her eyes widened, and her horn glowed, gently tugging her sister’s mane aside before it could fall into the toaster as the nocturnal alicorn pushed the toaster’s lever down once more. “Please, Luna, there is more to the modern era than the wonders of toasters.” Her lips pressed into a thin frown, watching her words go in one ear and out the other, bypassing not merely her brain but also anything else her sister might happen to have in that starry skull of hers. ‘Now, let’s not be like that,’ she told herself, shaking her head. ‘Luna has every right to be amazed by the things our little ponies have created.’ “Ah!” The floor shook with the impact, and for a moment Celestia hoped the shock of toast bouncing from her forehead would dull her sister’s enthusiasm. She waited with baited breath, watching for… “Amazing!” Luna rose, hooves clapping together in excitement. “Sister, did you see? Is it not fantastical beyond what the greatest of sages of the past may have imagined?” Sighing the sigh of the long-suffering, Celestia nodded. “Yes, Luna, I saw it. Perhaps, while you enjoy your toast, you would be interested in learning about the marvelous invention we call ‘trains’, and the rail system they use.” It wasn’t phrased as a question. It wasn’t worded as a question. For all intents and purposes, it was not a question. “No, thank you. I wish to delve the depths of this buttery, delicious mystery,” answered Luna, as if anything like a question. ‘I never twitched like this when she was on the moon,’ Celestia thought. Forcing a smile onto her lips, Celestia reached over ever so gently and began to pull the toaster away. “Luna, I must insist, there is far more than a mere toaster-” “Mere?!” The hiss burst from Luna, and she bared her teeth in a snarl. Her glee disappeared, and she snatched the toaster back. “You dare insult this ingenuous creation as a ‘mere’ toaster? Celestia, for shame! To think you would be so blind to the brilliance of our subjects, crafting such a device that defies imagination!” There was that twitch again, and it took every iota of willpower for Celestia not to snap at her questionably sane sister. ‘Perhaps the Elements of Harmony weren’t quite as...thorough as I thought.’ “Luna, my dear, beloved little sister. I want you to know, I mean this with the most love and care in all the world…” She leaned in close, staring her sister straight in the eyes. “It. Is just. A toaster!” For a moment, all was quite, Luna stared back, her expression empty. In that silence, Celestia hoped with all the hope she had, that Luna had listened- Well, she hoped that right up until Luna tackled her. “For toaster!” Author's Note Bleh, catching up on these, expect the next one soon. And for anyone wondering, an update for Treacherous Mists is done save the editing, it will be up before the year ends, and my other stories have their updates rolling towards them thanks to the return of my muse. July Drabble - themunck[Bloodlines] Twilight is secretly EVIL, but she needs Rarity to make her a proper EVIL sorceress outfit without giving away that she is, in fact, EVIL. (Prompt paraphrased) Humanised Non-canon to Bloodlines. Rarity raised a skeptical eyebrow, lips pressing tight. Slowly, her gaze rose from the sheet of paper she held to consider the fidgeting woman before her. “Twilight, darling, I do ever so appreciate everything you’ve done, and I would be loathe to ever imply you might lack anything,” she began, tone hovering somewhere between ‘polite’ and ‘dear gods why’, “but I have to ask...spikes?” A flush lit Twilight’s cheeks. She cleared her throat. “They’re historically accurate.” “Hmm…” Rarity looked at the paper. They were historically accurate, Twilight was sure. Granted, her Tome of Darkness and its delightful revelations - good was futile, ‘evil’ was a delusion held by the weak, minions should be punished for the slightest infraction with acid pits and shark pools - had been enlightening, but it was not what she would term...child friendly. It had been very descriptive, of course. Oh so very descriptive, particularly on the topic of acceptable fashion for a proper Evil Sorceress. Heat suffused Twilight’s cheeks as she watched Rarity’s eyes drift from the artist’s rendition of Spiked Shoulderpads of Doom to the Corset of Absolute Wickedness. “This is historically accurate too, is it?” the seamstress asked, that damnably judging eyebrow going up again. “It is. I checked. I-I can get the reference books, if you want.” She almost bit her tongue, wincing. She couldn’t do that! Why, after seeing the Tome of Darkness and it's very soft pages - made from something any fair skinned human would be...intimately familiar with, having such a substance on, as it were, hand - she’d need to exercise her Dominate Person spell on the artist. She didn’t really want Rarity to see it. Not yet, at least. Rarity flashed her a smile, a hint of mischief to it. “No, no, darling, I believe you. After all, there’s no other reason for a lady such as yourself to desire such a delightfully risque ensemble, is there?” she cooed, a giggle almost running off the last word. “Exactly!” Twilight resisted the urge to take out her handkerchief. Getting fittingly black, skull-embroidered handkerchiefs hadn’t been easy, and she would have hated to use one already. She forced a smile just a shade shy of sinister onto her face. “I think I would really benefit, if I had an accurate recreation. For my research, that is.” “Your research...obviously.” The pause lingered, along with a faint creasing as Rarity held back a smile. She traced a delicate finger across the sketched figure. “Now, this skirt is very interesting, wouldn’t you say?” Nodding, Twilight glanced down at the picture. She’d seen it before, yet her cheeks still lit up. ‘St-stay strong! Remember Rule #4: ‘A good Evil Sorceress should be a figure of allure as well as obvious mystical power. Acquire appropriate attire’’ “I love how it shows off your legs. Well, not your legs, darling, but this dashingly dark figure,” continued Rarity, her eyes not leaving Twilight’s face even as she tapped the picture. “Why, just look at how well they go with those stockings. I can’t imagine many women brave enough to wear them together.” To be fair, it was hard to imagine any woman who wasn’t waiting on a street corner wearing them. The heat grew, and all Twilight got out was a faint sound of agreement as she sought some loophole in her memory. Had the Tome mentioned what to do with embarrassing friends and/or minions? ‘Oh, darn, I don’t have Acid Pit prepared today, or Summon Monster. Wait, I could get a scroll, but how do I get Rarity into a pool?’ “To say nothing of the belt! The skull looks positively inviting. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of men interested in the...history of this little number,” Rarity said, the hysterical edge of laughter badly concealed making her voice tremble. She pressed a hand against her mouth, yet she still watched Twilight with amusement the scholar- *ahem* the dark sorceress could only describe as ‘gleeful’ and ‘as evil as anything in the Tome’. “I-I just need to get your measurements.” Twilight blinked, and her cheeks cooled a tad. “Y-yeah...uh, Rarity, have you seen my bathroom yet?” She smiled, taking comfort in the bafflement that overcame Rarity’s amusement. “Fancy measuring me in there?” Now she just needed to find that scroll.
May Drabble - Stainless KeySpike and Twilight doing something - no shipping Justice Itself spoilers! Ye have been warned, mere mortals! - One week after the defeat of Tirek “Twilight?” Spike asked, voice quiet as he relaxed. It took a few moments for Twilight to answer, her attention fixed to the book before her. Her candle, she noticed, was burning dangerously low, wax threatening to dribble onto her desk. “Yes?” “Where do...” He began, only to fade away, hesitation killing his question. She waited without turning from her book. Nearly a minute passed before she realised he hadn’t finished. Tearing herself away from the book, Twilight looked to her bed and the little drake laying there. “Spike?” she asked, a hint of worry entering her voice. “What were you asking?” He shrugged. “Nothing, really. I just...I wondered…” “You wondered…?” Twilight gently urged. Her horn lit, a bookmark slipping between the pages as her book closed behind her. Again, he hesitated, and this time turned over. Not fast enough to hide the look on his face. Twilight’s frown deepened, and her chair scraped across the floor as she stood up from her desk. Clearly this called for more than just asking, and Twilight decided to borrow a page from Pinkie’s book….albeit with some heavy editing. Spike was too busy staring at the wall to notice her approach until she lay next to him and her hooves wrapped around him in a gentle hug. “If something is wrong, you can tell me,” she murmured. She felt him go stiff, then, slowly, begin to relax as the hug went on. Twilight smiled; Pinkie was right, a hug could make anypony happy. “I promise, I won’t be mad.” For nearly a minute, neither said another word. They simply relaxed in the warmth of family, and they “W-where did...where did Paladin go?” His voice trembled, but he asked nonetheless. Her calm breath caught for a moment, and she felt a tremble in the scaly body curled against her. He’d caught it, but she simply gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Paladin…” Twilight started. ‘Became Tyrael, and left to protect his own world,’ is what she wanted to say. It was what she knew Spike had been told. It was, from any perspective, the truth. Spike, from any perspective, was a child who knew that. Yet he asked. “Paladin,” She began again, “didn’t go anywhere.” “...huh?” He turned his head to look up at her, brow furrowed in confusion. Unsure of herself for a moment, Twilight found the words spilling out before she knew what they were. “He’s still here. I know, he’s not here in person. He’s not here in the body at the hospital. Paladin didn’t go anywhere because we’re still here. The two of us, and our friends…” Finally, Twilight caught up with her own subconscious, and she nuzzled Spike. “Everypony in Equestria is here, because of Paladin, and that’s why he’s still here.” Spike snorted, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “Great, you’re being sappy…” She chuckled, running a hoof along his fins. “A little, but that doesn’t make me wrong. Paladin might not be down in the spare room anymore, but he’s still with us. He’s our friend, and everything we can remember him for means he’s not going to be gone for good.” “Hrmm…” Spike adjusted himself, squirming against her, and despite her best efforts Twilight felt a giggle rush out as the tip of his tail brushed across her stomach. They both went very still. Spike grinned. Twilight gulped. With devious, serpentine movements, his tail began to twitch gently... “No, Spike, st-sto-opphfa! Ahaha, s-sto-o-opppahah!” Her shouts dissolved into giggling as his tail wrecked ticklish torture on the plush fur of her belly, and soon the quiet peace of the night had been replaced by the laughter of a devious dragon and maddened giggles of his sister. * Fin. *
May Drabble - themunck[Bloodlines] Dash and Applejack go on a date Humanised Non-canon to Bloodlines.....probably. Applejack took a sip of her drink, sighed happily, and dropped her arm around her girlfriend. She got to enjoy that for a few seconds before she felt the girl begin to squirm. The ranger glanced down over the rim of her tankard, and grinned. “Well, don’t y’all look darlin’,” she remarked with a snicker and a squeeze. Dash poked Applejack’s arm, scowling. “I look stupid,” she grumbled, and lightly kicked Applejack’s leg. “Why do you get pants? I want pants! This thing is all froufrou and annoying and I want pants.” Shrugging, Applejack kept her arm in place. It wasn’t her fault the fine attire had pants, but she couldn’t lie to herself; she was happy to see Dash in a dress. The lithe thief pulled it off better than Dash wanted to admit, and the light blue fabric seemed to just go with her hair perfectly. “Why did we have to dress up anyway?” Dash went on. “I like my normal stuff.” “Heh,” chortled Applejack. She gestured with the hand holding her drink. “Ya think they would have let us in here if we’d been in our usual gear?” Their rich surroundings were practically wrapping the pair in decadence and wealth. The wood panels with fine carvings, polished marble tiles, everything Twilight had promised for the two of them. “I coulda talked my way in,” Dash asserted, flashing a confident grin at Applejack. Despite her complaints, she had settled rather well against the larger woman, and her own drink was being drained even faster. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Rainbow.” Smiling, Applejack glanced about the private room. It really was rich, almost overwhelmingly so. She could almost smell the excessive decadence. It wasn’t until Dash spoke up that she even realised what she’d done. “What’s wrong?” demanded Dash. She gave Applejack a look through narrow eyes, watching the ranger for any sign of a lie. “I can tell, bumpkin, so don’t pretend you’re fine.” Applejack shrugged again, delaying her answer with a gulp of hot cider from her tankard. She felt Dash poking her again, insistently, until she lowered her drink with a sigh. “This place is real fancy and all, sugar, and I know Twi’ went to a lot of effort gettin’ us this, but...well…” She hesitated, the words on the tip of her tongue. Guilt glued the truth to it, however, and so she searched for a moment for a polite way to say it. A grin broke out on Dash’s face. “But it’s not really your kinda thing?” she asked. Applejack nodded, and said, “Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m just bein’ a country bumpkin in the big city, but this kinda thing is—” Lips, softer than she would have imagined, cut her off. The taste of cider didn’t quite cover what was the distinct flavour of Dash. Applejack closed her eyes, returning the kiss until Dash drew back. Neither said a word as they relaxed in the simple enjoyment of such an intimate act. “Ain’t my thing either,” Dash said. She trembled slightly, and Applejack was worried until she realised the slender thief was laughing quietly. There was a wicked gleam in Dash’s eyes as she gazed up at her. “I knew I was gonna outlast you.” “...” Applejack stared down at her, mouth hanging open for a second. “...did...did you ask Twilight for this, just so ya could see which of us would got uncomfortable first?” Dash didn’t say anything, but her wide, cocky smirk was more than enough. It took every ounce of Applejack’s willpower to avoid dumping her drink on her partner’s head. “You’re a damn nuisance,” she growled, but under it was the faint hint of laughter. Her revenge came swiftly; the contents of her drink went down in one gulp, and the ranger rose. She brought Dash with her, and ignoring the yelp, Applejack threw her over her shoulder. “Hey! What’s the deal?” Applejack grinned. “This is meant to be a date, sugar. I’m thinkin’ we find a tavern, drink ‘em dry and see where we go from there.” Dash fell silent for a few seconds, turning the idea over in her head. “Okay, I like that plan. Onward!” Laughing, Applejack ignored the scandalised look on the doorman’s face as they burst out into the cool evening air. “Just remember, Rainbow, I’m wearing the pants.” * Fin. *
May Drabble - May Drabble - Twilight and Pinkie Pie play chess. Twilight smiled across the table at her opponent, not without a tiny hint of condescension. She shouldn’t be so cocky, she knew. It was unbecoming, and certainly rude to her guest. How would she have felt, had she been sitting opposite an ingenious unicorn who had dominated every tournament in Canterlot with ruthless, Princess-trained efficiency? ‘Oh Celestia, I’m turning into Rainbow Dash.’ “Sooooooo…” Pinkie dragged the word out, bouncing her hoof from piece to peace moment by moment. “What’s the little tower do again?” ‘Don’t...be...smug...’ “It moves in a straight line,” Twilight answered. Her gaze locked on the chess board with unwavering focus. “As far as you want, so long as it’s unobstructed.” Pinkie nodded, and moved an entirely different piece. ‘Ah, a Baltimare pincer.’ Twilight’s mental image of the board jumped forward a few turns. ‘I move my knight, and next she’ll move her...yes, that pawn, which means after my next turn...’ Her smile trembled, the urge to smirk nearly overcoming her modesty. ‘Checkmate.’ “As I was saying; ‘I looked at him all like ‘whoa, too far!’ but he didn’t notice, I think because of all the hot sauce in his eyes,” Pinkie said, resuming her story. Her attention didn’t so much ‘waver’ as ‘skitter about wildly’. “Mhmm.” Nodding, Twilight carefully moved her piece. “Your turn.” Pinkie moved a piece, giggling as she bumped over a rook. “There was all this shouting and yelling, but don’t worry, I have some vinegar to help clean him up! I dunno why, but that didn’t make him happy either! I don’t suppose you can use that big brain of yours to work out why?” Twilight nodded again. Her magic gently shifted her queen. ‘Nearly...’ “Great, what do you think-” Pinkie tapped a knight from one step to the next. “-checkmate- you can tell me?” ‘Alright, time to...’ Her magic grasping a bishop, the magenta aura trembled. Pinkie’s voice rang in her ears, bouncing about the scholarly mare’s head with a word she knew Pinkie couldn’t possibly have said. “...checkmate?” “Uh huh.” Pinkie’s smile was wide and genuine. “Do you think I should have used some lemonade to clean it out? I heard that’s good.” She blinked, cocking her head to the side as Twilight’s mane came to life. At least, locks began to spring out, turning the neat style into a ragged mess in seconds. Twilight’s eyes never left the chessboard. Pinkie leaned forward, trying to hear the words whispered from Twilight’s twitching lips. “When did- no, couldn’t have, I was- yes, was it- oh, no, maybe…” “Uh, Twilight?” Pinkie felt a flutter of worry. Fortunately it was completely dissipated when Twilight’s head jerked up, and her eyes pierced Pinkie’s soul with uttered need. “Rematch.” The word came out mechanically. Magic swirled around the board, gathering pieces, putting them in place. “Gee, I’d love to play again Twilight, but I gotta go foalsit-” began Pinkie Pie. Magic cut her off, sealing her mouth. “Rematch.” Twilight pinned her in place with a glare. “That was….that was a statistical error.” Pinkie was all smiles, and she was all smiles until she won. “Rematch.” “...I guess the Cakes won’t mind if my lunch lasts a little longer…” Half an hour later… “Rematch.” “Just one more…” “Rematch.” “I’m getting kinda hungry.” “Rematch.” “Are you sure?” “Rematch.” “...” “Rematch.” Pinkie yawned. Rubbing her eyes, she blinked slowly. “Rematch.” Twilight sat as she had for the past few hours, her intense focus unbroken. Her stomach, she distantly noticed, was grumbling. This was regarded as irrelevant and promptly discarded by the rickety mooring that was her mind. “Twilight…” Despite her best efforts, Pinkie yawned again. Her eyelids drooped. Her body cried out for sleep, yet she forced her hoof to move her pawn. Each movement was slow and uncertain. Compared to machine-like speed of the unicorn opposite her, she was practically slothful. Twilight said nothing. There was no space for words in her mind. Only chess. Only the impossibly that she was losing to Pinkie Pie. As Pinkie’s rook slipped into place, she twitched and looked up. Their eyes met. “...” Pinkie shuddered. Why? She hadn’t meant to win. Why did every random, aimless movement win her each and every game? She gulped. “...c-checkmate…” “Rematch.” Hope arrived without warning, the door opening. In the moonlight of an unnoticed moonrise, Carrot Cake, Mister Cake, strode in. "Pinkie! You were supposed to come back from break hours ago!" "Help me Mister Cake! She won't let me leeeeeeeeeave!" Pinkie rolled onto her back, legs kicking in air like a turtle rolled onto its back, unable to save itself. Mr. Cake's eyes meet Twilight's for just a second, as a cold feeling begins to seep into his heart. Those eyes... They held a promise. He saw his life flash before his eyes. He saw every moment with his wife and children he had enjoyed, and how much he would miss those if he interrupted. He gulped. "... I'll just leave you to it then." “Noooooooo!”
June Drabble - themunck[Bloodlines] Spike and Scootaloo go on a date Humanised Non-canon to Bloodlines.....probably. Silence. It ate away at him, at her, as they sat there. Oh, there was talking going on all around them, the bustle of waiters skirting between tables and the faint sound of hungry nobles eating. But between them was...silence. “Uh…” Spike cleared his throat. “Sorry.” Scootaloo looked up, her small frown vanishing as the fabric she had been inspecting settled back on her lap. “Eh? About what?” He gestured, a sweep of his arm taking in the restaurant. “For all this. I wanted to do something a bit more, you know, cool.” The girl blinked, cocking her head to the side, and Spike felt stupider by the second. He rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he could turn invisible. ‘Come on, stupid magic, now would be a great time. Learn invisibility. Now. Learn it. Come oooooon.’ “This place is kinda cool. Look at that lady! She’s wearing so much gold, she probably weighs, like four times as much as normal.” Pointing, Scootaloo blinked in surprise when Spike’s hand shot out and pushed hers down. “Don’t point! That’s Lady Gold Digger. She really, really holds grudges.” Spike shuddered. “Twilight ignored her once when they passed in the hall, and she just wouldn’t let it go.” Scootaloo snickered. “She ignored her? Wow, your mum is-” “She’s not my mum,” Spike cut in. He flushed, and smiled nervously. “Uh, sorry, go on.” Giving Spike an evil grin, making sure he knew she wasn’t forgetting this little button of his, Scootaloo went on; “She must be cool. Dash is her friend, so she has to be cool, but I thought she’d be all….noble-y.” Spike snorted. “Yeah, Twilight’s more ‘shut in scholar’ than noble. Anyway, let’s not talk about her. We’ve spent all that time in the tunnels, but we always…. we never...” “Talk about ourselves?” she finished. Scootaloo twirled a silver salad fork in her fingers, glancing off to the side. “Yeah, I guess. Not much to talk about with myself, I am who I am.” “A pickpocket and tunnel explorer?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s all?” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s all. I’m not some fancy noble boy who can do maaaaagic~” He watched her make a face, hands up and fingers wriggling at him. “Funny.” Scootaloo grinned. “I thought so!” She stopped, a frown taking its place as a fish fork spun on the tip of her finger. “Hey, who is your mum then?” ‘Where’s the food? I thought these fancy shmancy places were fast?’ The sorcerous lad played with his overabundance of cutlery. “Well...I’m an orphan,” he admitted after a moment. Her eyes brightened. “Really? Me too!” Scootaloo paused, brain catching up with her mouth, and she flushed. “Uh, I didn’t mean to sound so excited about that. Sorry.” “Don’t worry.” Spike waved it away. “I don’t remember my parents. I was, like, four. There was a fire. I guess the dragon blood skipped my parents. The Princess thinks that’s why I survived.” He said it without pain or worry, a simple fact and little more after so long. Taking a sip of his drink, he watched Scootaloo play with her polished meat fork. Neither spoke, the unexpectedly grim topic of conversation leaving both wondering where to go next. The arrival of food fixed that. “Oooh, look at it! There’s...less than I imagined?” Scootaloo looked under the thin slice of marinated meat, searching for the extra food that was surely hiding. “Also, I need a new fork.” “Just use whichever one, doesn’t matter which unless you’re Blueblood,” Spike said drily. “No…” She laughed nervously. “Uh, I mean, I don’t have any.” He looked up, cocking his head to the side. “What do you mean, you should have...heaps…” Scootaloo smiled, innocent as an angel, as he bore witness her empty side of the table. The water, too, stared. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Spike could have sworn he heard the faintest of tinkles as she shrugged helplessly, like knives and forks of polished silver rattling within the sleeves of her borrowed dress. ‘...Next time, sewer tunnel date. Definitely.’ Author's Note Am I the only one noticing a trend in themunck's one shots?
August Drabble - themunckNormal Pony Applejack and Rainbow Dash discover Twilight's unfinished novel 'Bloodlines', and are unsure if they're being shipped or not. (Prompt paraphrased) Non-canon to Bloodlines. In the hallowed halls of the castle of friendship, two best friends shared a moment of silence. Rainbow Dash opened her mouth, words on the tip of her tongue. She took in the sight before her, eyes running across the words again. She closed her mouth. She felt a hoof on her shoulder, patting her. For a moment she considered shrugging it off. In light of what lay before her, it was even more important to do so. Still, she didn’t. The pegasus just sighed. Dash took a breath. “What.” That seemed to about cover it. “Eeyup,” muttered Applejack, nodding in agreement. Her hoof left Dash’s shoulder. The quiet swish of a page turning was the only sound in the room save their slow, uncertain breaths. Their eyes laid upon the words. The pair winced in perfect time, and a hot flush broke across Dash’s face. “N-no way….bathing together? You’re- you’re washing me! What the buck?!” Stepping back, Rainbow Dash shook her head. “Come on, this is a prank! It’s gotta be!” “I dunno, seems pretty real to me,” said Applejack. She pushed the manuscript to one side, and pointed at the others beneath it. “Look, she’s got a whole series of ‘em. She wouldn’t write that much just for a prank.” “That’s because she’s an egghead! She probably used magic, or she got so into it she wrote a whole series of books for a prank!” Swiping up the one they had been reading, Rainbow Dash waved it in her friend’s face. “I mean, come on, it’s egghead fantasy stuff. She even gave it a stupid fantasy title!” Pushing the manuscript and its red-ink title, ‘Bloodlines’, out of her face, Applejack raised an eyebrow at Dash. “Ya seems awful out of sorts when ya think its just a prank,” she pointed out. “....” Pressing a hoof against her face, Rainbow Dash let out a long groan. “Okay, so its not a prank! But come on, look at what she’s writing!” “I did, sugarcube. I think she’s writing us as havin’, you know…” The farmer frowned in thought. “What’s the phrase? Unresolved something tension?” Rainbow Dash shook her head. “No way. Come on. There’s no way Twilight would do that.” Neither said anything, both just looking at the manuscript again. Applejack coughed. “...would she?” The would-be novel hit the floor, and they were cramming their faces in a moment later as both sought the answer to their question. “She’s got this totally wrong. Why are you are the one exercising?” growled Dash. “‘Cause a thief don’t exercise, ‘least not like that,” Applejack replied. “See, yer like one of them monkey things. All that jumpin’ and climbin’ and all. All nimble like ya are when ya fly.” The pegasus flushed slightly. “Well, I am pretty agile,” she conceded proudly. “See? It ain’t so bad. Twilight might want us to kiss-” began the farmer, smiling, until the look on Dash’s face stopped her. “Sugarcube? Y’all okay?” “Kiss?!” After a moment, Applejack calmly picked up her hat and got her mane in order, wiping a drop of spittle from her cheek. “She wants us to kiss? Where does it say that? I don’t see it!” Pressing her face against the manuscript, she stared into the neat black script as if it might reveal the secrets of the local princess to her. “For landsakes, get a hold of yerself.” Applejack pulled Rainbow Dash away from it. She held the mare by the shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes. “Dash, its called ‘subtext’. Even I know what that is.” Rainbow Dash stared back, the colour slowly draining from her. Realisation reared its ugly head as she stared into Applejack’s eyes. “Oh Celestia...she totally wants us to snog!”
September Drabble - themunckCelestia tries to introduce her sister to the wonders of modern technology. Luna only has eyes for the toaster. In the halls of Canterlot, decked in the beauty of many centuries of dynasty, a dynasty found in the form of but two ponies, Princess Celestia felt a headache forming alongside a very firm desire to have everything not invented in the past two decades thrown out. Along with the toaster. “Wondrous,” gasped Princess Luna, wide eyes peering into the abyss of wire and cherry-red grid within its majestic square frame. “Truly, this is a creation for all the ages to appreciate.” Biting back a sigh, Princess Celestia nodded. “Yes, toasters are very impressive,” she agreed. “Of course, they are just one application of such technology. Another device invented not longer after based on the same principles was-” “A larger toaster?” “What? No- I mean, yes, there are such things, but that isn’t what I meant,” said Celestia, brow furrowing. Her eyes widened, and her horn glowed, gently tugging her sister’s mane aside before it could fall into the toaster as the nocturnal alicorn pushed the toaster’s lever down once more. “Please, Luna, there is more to the modern era than the wonders of toasters.” Her lips pressed into a thin frown, watching her words go in one ear and out the other, bypassing not merely her brain but also anything else her sister might happen to have in that starry skull of hers. ‘Now, let’s not be like that,’ she told herself, shaking her head. ‘Luna has every right to be amazed by the things our little ponies have created.’ “Ah!” The floor shook with the impact, and for a moment Celestia hoped the shock of toast bouncing from her forehead would dull her sister’s enthusiasm. She waited with baited breath, watching for… “Amazing!” Luna rose, hooves clapping together in excitement. “Sister, did you see? Is it not fantastical beyond what the greatest of sages of the past may have imagined?” Sighing the sigh of the long-suffering, Celestia nodded. “Yes, Luna, I saw it. Perhaps, while you enjoy your toast, you would be interested in learning about the marvelous invention we call ‘trains’, and the rail system they use.” It wasn’t phrased as a question. It wasn’t worded as a question. For all intents and purposes, it was not a question. “No, thank you. I wish to delve the depths of this buttery, delicious mystery,” answered Luna, as if anything like a question. ‘I never twitched like this when she was on the moon,’ Celestia thought. Forcing a smile onto her lips, Celestia reached over ever so gently and began to pull the toaster away. “Luna, I must insist, there is far more than a mere toaster-” “Mere?!” The hiss burst from Luna, and she bared her teeth in a snarl. Her glee disappeared, and she snatched the toaster back. “You dare insult this ingenuous creation as a ‘mere’ toaster? Celestia, for shame! To think you would be so blind to the brilliance of our subjects, crafting such a device that defies imagination!” There was that twitch again, and it took every iota of willpower for Celestia not to snap at her questionably sane sister. ‘Perhaps the Elements of Harmony weren’t quite as...thorough as I thought.’ “Luna, my dear, beloved little sister. I want you to know, I mean this with the most love and care in all the world…” She leaned in close, staring her sister straight in the eyes. “It. Is just. A toaster!” For a moment, all was quite, Luna stared back, her expression empty. In that silence, Celestia hoped with all the hope she had, that Luna had listened- Well, she hoped that right up until Luna tackled her. “For toaster!” Author's Note Bleh, catching up on these, expect the next one soon. And for anyone wondering, an update for Treacherous Mists is done save the editing, it will be up before the year ends, and my other stories have their updates rolling towards them thanks to the return of my muse.
July Drabble - themunck[Bloodlines] Twilight is secretly EVIL, but she needs Rarity to make her a proper EVIL sorceress outfit without giving away that she is, in fact, EVIL. (Prompt paraphrased) Humanised Non-canon to Bloodlines. Rarity raised a skeptical eyebrow, lips pressing tight. Slowly, her gaze rose from the sheet of paper she held to consider the fidgeting woman before her. “Twilight, darling, I do ever so appreciate everything you’ve done, and I would be loathe to ever imply you might lack anything,” she began, tone hovering somewhere between ‘polite’ and ‘dear gods why’, “but I have to ask...spikes?” A flush lit Twilight’s cheeks. She cleared her throat. “They’re historically accurate.” “Hmm…” Rarity looked at the paper. They were historically accurate, Twilight was sure. Granted, her Tome of Darkness and its delightful revelations - good was futile, ‘evil’ was a delusion held by the weak, minions should be punished for the slightest infraction with acid pits and shark pools - had been enlightening, but it was not what she would term...child friendly. It had been very descriptive, of course. Oh so very descriptive, particularly on the topic of acceptable fashion for a proper Evil Sorceress. Heat suffused Twilight’s cheeks as she watched Rarity’s eyes drift from the artist’s rendition of Spiked Shoulderpads of Doom to the Corset of Absolute Wickedness. “This is historically accurate too, is it?” the seamstress asked, that damnably judging eyebrow going up again. “It is. I checked. I-I can get the reference books, if you want.” She almost bit her tongue, wincing. She couldn’t do that! Why, after seeing the Tome of Darkness and it's very soft pages - made from something any fair skinned human would be...intimately familiar with, having such a substance on, as it were, hand - she’d need to exercise her Dominate Person spell on the artist. She didn’t really want Rarity to see it. Not yet, at least. Rarity flashed her a smile, a hint of mischief to it. “No, no, darling, I believe you. After all, there’s no other reason for a lady such as yourself to desire such a delightfully risque ensemble, is there?” she cooed, a giggle almost running off the last word. “Exactly!” Twilight resisted the urge to take out her handkerchief. Getting fittingly black, skull-embroidered handkerchiefs hadn’t been easy, and she would have hated to use one already. She forced a smile just a shade shy of sinister onto her face. “I think I would really benefit, if I had an accurate recreation. For my research, that is.” “Your research...obviously.” The pause lingered, along with a faint creasing as Rarity held back a smile. She traced a delicate finger across the sketched figure. “Now, this skirt is very interesting, wouldn’t you say?” Nodding, Twilight glanced down at the picture. She’d seen it before, yet her cheeks still lit up. ‘St-stay strong! Remember Rule #4: ‘A good Evil Sorceress should be a figure of allure as well as obvious mystical power. Acquire appropriate attire’’ “I love how it shows off your legs. Well, not your legs, darling, but this dashingly dark figure,” continued Rarity, her eyes not leaving Twilight’s face even as she tapped the picture. “Why, just look at how well they go with those stockings. I can’t imagine many women brave enough to wear them together.” To be fair, it was hard to imagine any woman who wasn’t waiting on a street corner wearing them. The heat grew, and all Twilight got out was a faint sound of agreement as she sought some loophole in her memory. Had the Tome mentioned what to do with embarrassing friends and/or minions? ‘Oh, darn, I don’t have Acid Pit prepared today, or Summon Monster. Wait, I could get a scroll, but how do I get Rarity into a pool?’ “To say nothing of the belt! The skull looks positively inviting. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of men interested in the...history of this little number,” Rarity said, the hysterical edge of laughter badly concealed making her voice tremble. She pressed a hand against her mouth, yet she still watched Twilight with amusement the scholar- *ahem* the dark sorceress could only describe as ‘gleeful’ and ‘as evil as anything in the Tome’. “I-I just need to get your measurements.” Twilight blinked, and her cheeks cooled a tad. “Y-yeah...uh, Rarity, have you seen my bathroom yet?” She smiled, taking comfort in the bafflement that overcame Rarity’s amusement. “Fancy measuring me in there?” Now she just needed to find that scroll.
