Living with Twilight Sparkle is Weird

Chapters

A Taste of Home
Drunk Driving at its Finest
Phobia Phun
Letterhead
Just a Bump in the Road
A Blooming Rude Awakening
A Fruity Nose
The Loaded Magazine
Nightmareish Tastes
A Brush with Fate
I Get a Kick Out of You
Sleep Takes Hold
Head of Her Class
Oh Baby
Harsh Warming Eve
Spare Some Change?
It's Always an Option
Who's Your Daddy
Just Blowing Bubbles
The Naked Truth
Voicing Concerns
The Glue That Holds Us Together
Morning Glory
Twilight's Holiday Spectacular
A Piece Of Companionship
You Give Me Fever
In A Spot Of Trouble
What The Buzz Is About
Don't Be Cross
A Break
Absolute Bedlam
I'm Game For Anything
Sick Burn, Bro
Too Hot to Handle
Shed Your Worries
Twilight Can't Into Words
Game Time, Rhyme Time
Twilight Mayor May Not Be Elected
Cleanliness is Next To God-awfulness
Botlite Sparkle (A Predictive Text Bot's Version of LWTSIW)
A Simple Birthday

A Taste of Home

“Just one more…please?”

You’re on your knees in front of your long-time roommate Twilight, hands clasped before you, straight up begging. You've been behaving like this for weeks now, but she still doesn't seem quite used to it yet. Well..at least she's not happy about it. She looks at you with sheer annoyance, but you can tell your pleas are not falling on deaf ears. She knows you need your fix. She won’t deny you that, will she?

She lets out a low sigh between clenched teeth.

“And you swear, absolutely swear that this isn’t some sexual thing?”

You shake your head hard, but she doesn’t seem to believe you. You quickly stand and slap at your own crotch. It hurts, and Twilight looks bewildered, but if this makes your case then it’s so worth the feeling of bile rising in the back of your throat and the clench in your gut.

“See? Flaccid as fuck Twi, I promise,” you wheeze.

“Oh…okay?”

“Ok? As in…?”

She again lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes ceiling-ward.

“Yes, you can suck on it.”

With a cry of pure delight you clasp Twilight in your arms in a tight, overjoyed hug. She squeaks like some little toy, then laughs and pats your back affectionately.

“I didn’t realize you cared so much Anon….Anon?”

But you can’t answer. Your mouth is already full.

Whimpering happily to yourself, you suck hard on the tip of Twilight’s horn. At first, all you taste is the strong, sour, pungent odor of pony BO. It’s a little something like old fruit fermenting in the sun. But then…

Oh yeah, it’s coming. That sweet hit of magic is coming.

A cold, sweet, almost fizzy feeling fills your mouth. It shoots down your throat, and you try very hard not to imagine that this must be exactly what it’s like to have someone jizz in your mouth. That’s not important, don’t think of this as sucking Twilight’s head-penis. Don’t think about how hard it is between your lips, how the texture feels against your tongue. Don’t think about how that stuff is flowing into you, through you, and how you feel just so connected to Twi right now…

God damnit boner, really?

Well, you just hope Twilight doesn’t notice that.

It starts to hit you slowly, like a thin veil is slowly being pulled over your face. Your body feels far away, your vision begins to sparkle around the edges. All your worries, including that awkward boner that you’re sure wasn’t from sucking a horn, no couldn’t be, fade away from you. Things lose shape, sense, order. It all just exists. You exist with it, in tangent, in a strange connection that you can’t see but can feel. You feel sleepy, yet more alive than you’ve ever felt. You can feel and hear purple around you, and know that Twilight’s magic has sweetly infiltrated your mind. You pop the horn out of your mouth and sit back with a long, low, gasp.

“Fucking…intense…” you murmer.

Twilight glares at you.

“Is that all you want?”

Come to think of it, no. It's not. It's a weird request, but right now, with the rush you're feeling, you honestly can't bring yourself to care.

“C-could I lick your cutie mark?”

It just looks so sparkly, so inviting! It looks like it would taste like moon sugar. That’s a thing, right? Moon sugar? Gotta be, otherwise where would you get that from? Psh, who knows.

Twilight looks dubious.

“Why?”

“Wanna see how it will taste,” you say with a grin.

She rolls her eyes, but you can tell she's giving in. She's come this far, you doubt this will be pushing her too much farther.

“Ok fine, fine…”

You lean forward, barely balancing on a floor that feels like cotton, and plant your tongue firmly on her flank. You draw upwards, emitting a childish ‘nyeeeeeh’ sound as you lick. Sure enough, she tastes delicious! Like a fruit you’ve never experienced! Like…like the inside of a fairy’s heart! They can’t possibly have blood in there, it’s gotta be this stuff.

“So?” Twilight asks. “Was it everything you hoped it would be?”

You lean back and lick your lips.

“Twilight,” you say breathlessly. “You taste amazing.”

She blushes a little, but looks deeply uncomfortable about it. Maybe even ashamed.

“Oh…thanks I think.”

“I bet you’re the best tasting pony there is.”

She laughs sharply.

“What, do you think we’d really have different tastes?”

It hits you suddenly, and you sit bolt upright. If your eyes weren’t dilated already, you’re sure they’d be doing it now. It…it can’t be possible. But… Damn it, you have to try.

You lunge at Twi and she jumps back, suddenly frightened.

“Anon, what…”

“Twilight!” you almost shriek. “There’s something I need you to do for me, something very very important! It could change everything I know about Equestria, please!”

Tears hang precariously in your eyes, and Twilight softens. She was always so good to you, so tolerant of your every ridiculous whim. She even hung up those terrible drawings you made, on top of Spikes shoddy artwork. He was certainly pissed, but her consideration for her roommates feelings came first. And now she can see you’re serious. She can see how much you mean what you’re saying. After a moment, she nods.

“Tell me what I have to do.”

You grin.

“I need you to get the following ponies and put them in this exact order, or it won’t work…”

They all stand before you, all looking nervous and bewildered. It goes in the right order too, as you’d asked, and you look gratefully at Twilight. Cadence shifts uncomfortably from hoof to hoof and looks to you as dubiously as Twilight did only an hour or so earlier.

“Anon, what exactly are we-“

“Shhhhh…” You cut her off by holding a sudden finger to her mouth.

She jumps, but goes quiet. You make a note that her lips are softer than expected, then move on with your preparations. You check one last time.

Cadence first, then Twilight. Next is Caramel, then Lucky, Luna, and Colgate. Last is Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie. Good, they’re all here and in the right order. Twilight did exactly as you asked. Got to do this quick, before the high wears off. Got to see if this works, everything could depend on it. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, readying for the experiment.

“Is everyone ready,” you ask, the graveness of the situation filling your voice.

You hear them all answer yes.

Slowly, you walk to stand behind them. You locate each individual cutie mark and move to stand near Cadence. She looks scared, but it’s too late to worry about that now. You take a deep breath, hold it, then stick out your tongue and begin.

“HEARTS, STARS, HORSESHOES!”

You shriek the words aloud between licks, head thrown back and eyes bulging. Cadence jumps as your tongue meets her flank. Twilight spins the moment you pass her, her eyes wide and angry.

“Anon, what the hell?!”

But you don’t stop.

“CLOVERS AND BLUE MOONS!”

The tastes begin to fill your mouth, almost overwhelming in their intensity. You have to hurry to finish this in time. You can see the bouncing form of Pinkie pie at the end of the line, and know she’ll be the toughest.

“HOURGLASSES, RAINBOWS…”

You steal a lick of Rainbow dash before she blasts upwards into the sky with an indignant growl. Last is pinkie pie. You catch her mid bounce and hold her down. Your head tips back, the timber of your voice high pitched and wild in your joy and desire.

“AND THE FUCKING RED BALOONS!”

You take a big long lick of Pinkie’s cutie mark, then flop onto the ground, writhing and cackling. The flavors all blend together, so intense, so magical, so perfectly mixed! You thrash, trying to understand what you’re experiencing, trying to just be and enjoy it. But it’s so tingly! So wonderful! You open your crying, watering eyes to see the angry faces of all the ponies above you.

“What in the hell was that, Anon,” Rainbow dash demands.

Through the twitching, blind joy you’re feeling, you manage a crooked smile.

“I-its your lucky charms…” you gurgle. “I’m always after them…always…”

You dissolve into laughter again, and the ponies leave you as a muttering, incoherent mass in the street. You babble nonsensically as your body is wracked over and over again by the flavors. Oh god the flavors!

It really is magically delicious.

-End-

Author's Note

Welcome to...all of this.
So this is my irreverent, gross, disturbing, and weird brand of comedy. That means you'll get mentions of weird fetishes, vomit, and so much more stuff you really should only read if you have a twisted sense of humor and a strong stomach.

I'll be updating here and there with new stories (all not chronologically related to each other), so just have fun with this. I certainly did.

-Pencil

Drunk Driving at its Finest

"Ok, so, what did you want to talk with me about?"

Your roommate Twilight fidgets uneasily, continually looking up at you, then back down at the ground. She invited you here, looking just as awkward then too, but you're not sure you've ever seen her this uneasy. Come to think of it, all six of your usual party friends look pretty uneasy.

"Uh...well...Anon we...we have some concerns."

Concerns? Oh no, did she find out you've been using her hoof socks as a masturbation aid? Or maybe Spike finally came clean about that time that you made him suck on his own tail and call you daddy. Either way, this is bad news.

"Oh...s-sure Twilight."

It's even more unsettling that the other ponies are here, considering the use of the word "concerns." Sure, Spike is absent, which is always a good thing, but the presence of all of them means this is big. You'd thought they were throwing another party, to be honest. And oh fuck are the parties here wild. You can barely remember any of them, but you have a distinct recollection that at the last one, you convinced Rarity to stand on a table, dance, and put on clothes one article at a time as she did. She said she didn't see the appeal.

"So, what are these, uh, concerns?" you ask, this time holding the stutter out of your voice.

"Well," Pinkie says, not at all her usual bubbly self. "It's about your...drinking."

Your drinking? Wait...what the shit...is this an intervention? Like a legit, we all cry and share our feelings, and there are hugs and then you go to a bar and drink the feelings away intervention?

Oh, fuck that. Fuck that in every way.

"No thanks," you say simply.

The ponies all blink at you. It's like the words you have just said don't make any sense to them.

"B-but Anon," Fluttershy barely more than whispers.

"Nah, I really don't want to talk about my drinking. Sorry to waste your time."

"Anon," Twilight says, a little more firmly. "We need to talk about this. You've been getting blackout drunk several times a week. There's a particular patch of hardwood that's permanently stained orange from you throwing up."

You roll your eyes. Oh, cue the melodrama now. It's just like all those interventions back on earth, except with less handmade cards from children. Those cards make pretty good rolling paper at least.

"I don't throw up that much," you mutter.

"Last time you started to laugh before you did it and told us 'hey guys look, I'm a sprinkler!' then spun in a circle while you threw up."

"Hey, that was to make you guys laugh."

"You asked Octavia if you could play her like a cello."

"To be fair, I asked if I could play her like an upright bass. It was going to lead to a fingering joke."

"You hit on Apple Bloom."

"Well, she was asking for it, coming in here all naked."

"Everypony is always naked, Anon."

"Exactly, a man's got to react eventually."

Twilight sighs and massages her temple with one hoof. You can see this isn't going your way. And Applejack definitely doesn't look pleased about you hitting on her little sister. But whatever to that, you know the little slut loved it. After all, she has her cutie mark now. Old enough to bleed, old enough to...wait, that doesn't work here...uh...old enough to have a cutie, old enough to give some bootie? Ok, it's a work in progress.

"Anon, your drinking is becoming a serious problem for us," Twilight says slowly. "And I want to know what you're going to do about it."

You think for a moment. Your friends are serious right now, they look genuinely upset. You've hurt some folks, you've made a mess, and your brilliant jokes seem to have fallen on deaf ears. It might actually be time to take drastic steps. You give a heavy sigh, and hang your head.

"Ok," you say softly. "But I want to tell you of my childhood, so you understand why it is I drink the way I do."

The ponies seem to brighten with some amount of relief, as well as curiosity. You settle yourself on a chair, and they form a circle around you, like children getting ready for story time. You clear your throat.

"It all began when I was three. My great uncle Richard came over, like he usually did, to watch me while my parents were away. Everything was going normally, until he asked if I'd like to play a game with him. In the bathtub..."

Three hours later, you're finally finishing up the story.

"Then, as I held Julia's dying body in my arms, she whispered to me 'It's all a dream.' and then her eyes closed forever, and she was gone..."

There's dead silence throughout the room. Most of the ponies look catatonic at this point. They've cried, they've covered their eyes in horror, they've heard and seen things they never wanted to see or hear. And you've brought them through all of it. You're pretty sure Fluttershy is shaking uncontrollably, and Applejack doesn't even look all there anymore.

Yes. Now's the right time.

"Oh...hey, sorry, did you guys want to take a little break?"

"YES," they all cry out, almost simultaneously.

You can't help but smile.

"I feel like we need refreshments, don't you?" you say gently.

"Oh my gosh, yes, all the refreshments," Pinkie says, her eye twitching. "I need something to drink right now so I don't think about...I mean, to relax. Yeah. To relax."

"M-me too," Applejack says quickly.

"I don't s-suppose you have any brandy?" Rarity pipes up.

"Or, anything really," Twilight says. "Just...want to go out to a bar or something? I...I need a drink after all this."

You laugh quietly to yourself as they all begin to discuss where they should go to drown out the thoughts of your carefully constructed sob story with the sweet release of alcohol. Gets 'em every time.

Confound these ponies, you drive them to drink.

-End-

Phobia Phun

"Okay, I'm ready to try the new spell. You all set too?"

Twilight looks to you for a sign of approval, and you give a short nod. She smiles, still looking more nervous than you've seen her for a while. Recently, Equestria's newest princess has been trying out her just-acquired wealth of magic, and it hasn't always gone well. Last time, she turned Spike into a lady dragon while attempting to make him grow taller. You thought it was funny as hell and Spike had...a lot of sudden anatomy questions, all of which made Twilight blush and stutter and were left answerless. Spike was also left as a female, as Twilight was afraid what damage another mistake might cause.

Since then, you've seen the little dragon sitting up at night, poking at her lower midsection, quietly but intensely whispering to herself "What ARE you..."

Now, for some reason, Twilight has decided she wants to try a transformations spell on herself. Maybe she's more willing to risk her own body rather than those of others, a noble idea, but you still think it's foolish. You've already made jokes that she could end up being the first futa princess, but that just raised questions from her about this unknown word "futa."

You didn't have the heart to tell her.

Hasn't stopped you from musing about the idea though. Late at night. Alone. When even you can admit to yourself your unnatural, confusing tendencies.

"Okay," she says with a sigh. "I'm going to give this a shot. You know what to do, right?"

You nod again. Wow, she really is nervous this time, that's the second time she's asked you this question.

"I make sure you're okay, and if something has gone wrong or you can't change back, I go get Celestia," you recite.

"Good...good...okay, well I guess there's nothing to it but to do it," she says with a sigh.

Face etched with worry, she closes her eyes, assumes a strong stance, and lowers her head. Suddenly, you're also more than a little nervous.

All at once, a glow of purple light envelops her horn, slowly moving to coat her entire body. As you watch, the light intensifies, growing to an almost blinding shine of brilliance and magic. You raise one hand to shield your eyes as it begins to blind you. You can hear in the background a strange scraping and sliding, like bones against stone and wet meat against wood. It's both sickening and fascinating, and it elevates in volume to an almost din as the glow intensifies.

Then, as quickly as it began, the sound stops. The light fades. You're left blinking, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the now much dimmer room. When you at last begin to focus, it appears that Twilight has vanished entirely.

Panic grips you. Is she dead? Somewhere else? Invisible? But then you hear her voice, though it sounds very far away for some reason.

"Well? Did it work?"

You look around the room, but you still don't see her.

"Anon? I said, did it work?"

Still no sign of Twilight.

"I cant see you!" you call out loudly.

"But I'm right here! Look!"

You look down to the floor, searching, still so worried about your royal friend. Then your gaze freezes on one area in particular.

Your pupils dilate. Your body goes rigid. You feel every hair rise along the back of your neck. You try to speak, but your mouth is dry.

Standing below you is a small purple spider. It's about the size of your palm, and it draws your entire focus, the long forgotten crippling fear of spiders welling up inside you like an impending flood. Its spindly, hairy legs twitch back and forth in unnatural, jerky motions as it scuttles towards you. Frozen, bound by its movement, you stare in horror as it approaches.

You can now see its smooth, shining abdomen, its plethora of unblinking eyes. Across the back part of its body, a small pink and white star is etched, like the hourglass on a black widow back on earth. It inches towards you at an alarming rate, and you can almost hear the scramble of its eight, clockwork-movement limbs as they scrape across the dusty wood floor.

It's coming for you. It senses your fear. You've never had to face your arachnophobia in this technicolor world before, and now it's there. Your death sees you. It knows.

Your very breath freezes in your throat as you stand paralyzed. It nears your feet, obviously intending to go for your shoes, to curl its small, twitching, unnatural body beside your toes inside your boot. As you watch, it reaches up towards you with its front two legs. Threatening you perhaps. Taunting you. It makes a high pitched squealing noise.

Anon? Did it say Anon?! Oh sweet unmerciful god, it knows your name!

It's like a bomb goes off in your head. You let out a shattering cry and raise your foot.

"BACK EVIL CREATURE! BACK TO THE PITS OF HELL THAT BIRTHED YOU! FUCK YOOOOOU!!!!"

With that you bring your boot down on the disgusting beast. You feel the satisfying crunch as every part of its exoskeleton caves in upon itself. You stomp again. And again. Over and over, you crush the thing until it is just a small pile of juicy rubble, stuck to the lines between the floorboards and the tread of your shoe. You're panting hard now, and as you begin to catch your breath, the world centers itself.

Fucking. Spiders.

Fucking magic-world, happy cartooney talking spiders at that. But...how did that creepy little fucker know your name?

At this point, a small, logical voice in the back of your head that has been trying to get your attention for a while now finally gets a word in. The sound it made. The marking on the abdomen. The color.

...

Oh God. Twilight.

You can't breathe. You can't think. Did you just...did you... She even called out to you. She even reached up for you. Oh god. What have you done?

At that moment, the door upstairs opens and a small female voice calls down to you.

"Anon? Is everything ok? I heard a scream, and I wanted to check."

Femspike sticks her head over the railing to examine you. At a total loss for words, you look up, then back down at the smear of spider guts and crunchy bits laid out on the floor.

"I..." you stutter. "I saw a spider."

Spike looks at you a moment, then shrugs.

"Hope you squashed it," she calls as she goes back inside. "Twilight hates spiders."

You're left alone, trembling, trying not to let anyone hear you as you weep like a child over your dead princess. What, surprised you're crying like a pussy? Oh come now, Anon.

Only pussies are afraid of spiders.

-End-

Letterhead

It's just one of those days for you. Again.

You often write letters to your friends when you're bored, it's a nice little personal touch that makes them feel special after all, but today it's a little difficult. Partially because your roommate, Twilight, won't stop sniffing the words as you write them, pressing her face against the barely dry ink at regular intervals. What's more, this isn't the first time. Not by a long shot.

"Uh...Twi?"

She breathes in deep and then exhales in orgasmic satisfaction.

"This is amazing paper."

"OK, sure."

"Mmmmmh, all written without magic too, oh yes, sweet literacy."

You cringe back, not liking her sexual tone. Maybe you'll write another day, this is getting a little too intense for you again, and you're not willing to put up with any more weirdness from this pony than you absolutely have to. You start to pack up your pen and envelopes but Twilight's hoof swiftly comes up to hold your hand down. You look down and see her staring intensely up at you. A lustful passion burns in her eyes. She licks her lips.

"...uh"

"Anon," she says, beckoning to you.

You lean towards her, but she just continues to beckon to you nearer. You lean down. She motions you closer. Now, you're so close that her lips are almost touching your ear. You can feel how hot and feverish her breath is.

"Anon..." she hisses, her voice dripping with desire. "...papers."

"What?"

"Please."

Oh god...not this...

"Papers please."

"God damn it Twilight, not again!"

She abruptly begins masturbating furiously, shoving your good pen far into her anus. She moans like a whore.

"Ahn, Papers Please!"

"For fuck's sake you psycho!"

"Glory to Arstotzka, mn, god yes!"

She rubs your stationary pad on her chest and crotch, and you watch in horror as her orgasm juices drench all the letters you were writing to your friends, completely ruining them. She groans and sighs, then collapses, bits of paper sticking to different parts of her matted purple fur. She sighs contentedly.

You suddenly have the urge to never write letters to anyone again.

This is what you get for rooming with someone into ink kink.

-End-

Just a Bump in the Road

“Um...Anon, can I talk to you about something?”

Twilight stares up at you in obvious discomfort from where she lies underneath your naked body. She looks like she might cry or laugh, and is still deciding which to do. Despite the fact that the expression is kinda cute, You feel frustration rising in you. Does she really have to do this now? You’re standing at attention, you’re poised for penetration, and right now she wants to talk? Fucking TALK?

What the hell horsewoman, this couldn’t wait?

You take a deep breath and suppress your desire to ram her relentlessly for the next hour despite her need to talk.

“What is it baby?” you ask, trying your best to feign interest.

You roll off of her to lie beside her in bed. As you do, she hugs the sheet up around her neck as if protecting her body. You’re not sure why, she’s always naked anyway. In fact, the only one who seems to care about nudity is Spike. Sure, it’s fine when she walks around the house naked, but if you bust into his room to steal his personal massager one afternoon with everything hanging out, suddenly it’s a big fucking problem. Hypocritical little bitch dragon.

“W-well,” she begins haltingly. “When I was bathing yesterday, I noticed some…reddish bumps on my mare-parts.”

Your heart sinks. Oh. Oh fucking no. You suddenly know exactly where this is going. You swallow hard and wait for the other shoe to drop.

“I...I think I might have some sort of illness down there,” she says. “And…I’m afraid I may have given it to you.”

Given it...to you? You swallow again, and this time the lump in your throat is reluctant to go down. She goes on in a rush. There are tears welling up in her eyes with every word.

“You see, I’ve...been with a lot of other stallions before. And...” She sniffs and looks away from you, obvious guilt blooming in her cheeks.

“Y-yes?” you almost squeak out.

“And…I’ve also been with quite a few while with you.”

You drop your head into your hands, boner fully deflated. I mean, you know a Princess can have pretty much any guy she wants, but she’s really been with other stallions while you two have been dating? Fuck…how many?

“How many?” you barely whisper.

She winces at the question, but does answer.

“At least ten...probably more.”

You feel like screaming, crying, laughing hysterically. There are so many things you want to say, but right now none of them are becoming real words.

“I don’t know who I got it from,” she says tearfully. “But I think you might have it, I’ve seen you itching down there yesterday, but I was too ashamed to say anything. B-but I want to be honest with you now. I'm so sorry I cheated on you. So, so sorry. C-can you ever forgive me?”

When you don't move or answer, she reaches out to touch you.

“Get out.”

Her hooves freeze and she never makes contact. She looks up at you, horror and shame in her whore eyes. Without another word or any protest, she rises, weeping openly and leaves your bedroom. You hear the front door shut as she leaves.

The moment you realize she’s gone, you flop back onto the pillow, and you feel a very shameful, very relieved smile flooding across your face.

Stupid stupid fucking mare. She’s slept with so many stallions, and she’ll sleep with so many more. Tonight, she’ll go out and fuck some young buck to drown her sorrows. He’ll fuck some mare after that. It will go on and on, they'll spread it to everyone. Twilight will blame herself, and they'll all vilify her like a pony Typhoid Mary. A diseased princess.

And she’ll never even fucking realize that you were the one who gave it to her in the first place.

That’s how you infected all of Ponyville with Herpes.

-End-

Author's Note

I'm not sorry. :heart:

A Blooming Rude Awakening

It’s early morning when you finally wake up. Birds and the sun are almost down from the top of the sky through your open window. Twilight has, for some reason, decided not to wake you up by jumping directly onto your genitals, as she sometimes does, so you've slept well after that crazy party last night. And, to your happy surprise, your hangover is not nearly as bad as you thought it would be. Really, this whole new living in Equestria thing isn't so bad after all.

You cat is sleeping peacefully next to you, its warmth seeping through the blanket against your back. You smile to yourself and push your back a little closer to your kitty and-

Wait. You don’t have a cat.

...

With a flourish of sheets you toss back the covers.

Curled there is a small yellowish pony with red hair. She fidgets listlessly in dream and smiles to herself. You instantly try to remember how that party last night went down, but nothing comes to mind. There's just this child pony. Here. Alone.

“That the ever-loving fuck is this?!”

The pony sits bold upright next to you. A pink bow on her head sits crookedly to one side on the back of her head. She looks at you, then downwards. You follow her gaze and to your horror, you’re naked from the waist down. Worse than that, whisky dick doesn’t seem to be effecting you much this fine morning.

The pony looks up at you, lower lip quivering and eyes brimming with tears. Shit, shit, shit!

“Um, no, don’t...it’s...wait..”

The pony tips back her head and begins to wail out a shrieking cry. Tears pour from her eyes in perfect rainbow-like arcs, and your mattress begins to soak it up like a sponge. You reach out to try to console the little darling, but as you move your engorged penis pokes her in one slender back hoof. She shrieks louder and begins to desperately back away from you.

“Ah want my sister!” she howls. “Ahm Scared!”

You hold a finger to your lips, trying to get her to shut up. It’s no use. Tears begin to drip through your mattress and onto the floor, forming puddles. Her cries rise in volume and the wine glasses on your bedside begin to vibrate ominously.

“AJ, AJ, AJ!” she shrieks.

One of your glasses shatters at the intensity of the sound. You clap your hands over your ears.

What the fuck did you do last night? Why are you naked? Why is there a filly in your bed? Who the fuck is AJ?

Tears begin to spread across your floor, gaining volume. Small objects like flash drives and one of your porno mags, Playmare, begin to bob in the growing tide. You have to stop this! That's the only porn you've got in this world!

“Ah want my-“

You dive forward and clap your hand over her open mouth to try to muffle her cries. As you leap, your erect member also makes a stab at things, embedding itself quite decisively into her bellybutton. Do ponies have bellybuttons?They must, because that’s where your dick is now. The tears continue to flow from her wide terrified eyes.

“Shut up, shut up!” you yell at the little pony. “And stop trying to get away!”

Her wiggling with you stuck in her bellybutton doesn’t help your throbbing erection. You pin her back on the bed, penis still lodged and hand still clapped over her mouth. You have to figure out what to quick before someone-

Your door flies off its hinges inward. With a goosh, the tear sea that was forming in your room rushes out past the hooves of…

Oh god.

An orange pony with a brown cowboy hat stands in the doorway to your bedroom, and she look pretty damn mad. You look down and realize exactly the scene she’s seeing right now. You look back up at her, pale, as the little pony under you squeals and thrashes.

“I-it’s not...it’s not what it...”

The orange pony’s freckled cheeks flush and her eyes narrow. Her ears pin back against her neck and she strikes one hoof against the ground like she may charge.

Crap.

“Git yer hands off my little sister!” she cries.

Then she charges you. You drop the little filly, your penis exiting her bellybutton with a loud pop. Oh god, god to run, got to get away. But there’s nowhere to run. Twilight's house is a shitty little tree house, and your room has no exists other than one.

“Wait!” you scream, but it’s way too late for that.

The orange pony leaps, turning mid-air, to catch you in the face with both back hooves at once. You feel your cheek and jawbones shatter as you fly back against your wall. Blood fills your mouth, spewing out as you drop, trembling to the floor. The pony turns to face you, her sister cowering behind one of her powerful back legs.

“He put his thingie inside me last night!” she whimpers. “All the way inside me, like I do with carrot back on the farm!”

What.

“You sick sick sonfabitch,” she growls. “What kinda monster are ya?”

You try to say that you’re not a monster, but your jaw is still very very broken.

“Glab kmoh ahh moolffffr,” is all you get out.

“Shut up!” she yells and releases another kick straight into your gut.

This time you hear the sickening snap of ribs. The little one begins to cry again.

Oh god, you’re going to die. You’re going to die on Twilight's newly clean floor.

Suddenly, you see the familiar shape of Twilight herself standing in your doorway. In a final last attempt, you extend your arms to her in a pleading gesture. She looks coldly from you to the orange pony, then back. She looks more annoyed than angry or afraid, which...kind of concerns you. You know, not more than the broken ribs, but still pretty concerned.

"What's the problem here Applejack," Twilight says.

The other pony gives her a look of dark understanding.

"This is kin business," she says in a near growl.

Twilight shrugs.

"Fair enough."

And with that she turns to walk away. You stare at her in disbelief. But...she's been your roommate! You cuddled that one time when you were drunk! You told each other your secrets and talked about boys! How could she! Your feelings of betrayal are soon muted by the Orange pony who again begins her onslaught.

She stomps down on your thigh and your leg now has a new bend in it. You don’t remember doing anything last night. Those fingers? Yeah, you probably won’t be using them again. How did that filly get in your bed, what did you do to her?

“Any last words?” the orange pony asks, cocking back a hoof right in front of your forehead.

You hold up your only good hand to cradle your shattered face. You have to know, you have to know before you die. You look pityingly at the poor little filly where she’s hiding, snot pouring out of her tiny nose.

“Please,” you say, moving your jaw with your hand. “Please little girl, just tell me this...”

“W-what?” she asks tearfully.

“...did I at least enjoy it?”

Your head caves in from the strength of the kick, and you know no more.

-End-

Author's Note

This was my very very first MLP Story. I wrote it when drunk. And now all of you get to read it. I have ZERO regrets.

Ish mah frst storie guys!!1! bee nice ok.

A Fruity Nose

It's a lovely morning in Equestria and you're out for a simple morning stroll. In your pocket you fondle the small coin that says you've been sober for half a year, and feel the odd mixture of remorse and contentment that you no longer have any drugs in your system. It was harder on your roommate, Twilight, and she only really quit recently. But it's for the better, for both of you. For one thing she's stopped trying to sell Spike's body for cash now. The little fuck was actually starting to like it, and you know from experience that's the first step to having a happy whore under your roof.

You can't have that. Even if it helped get Twilight her fix.

Besides, the only one who ever bought him was Big Mac. You don't even want to know how that worked, though Twilight has given you a hint or two. None of it sounded pretty.

Speak of the devil, you spot Twilight at a nearby cafe, sitting alone. She's been alone a lot recently, but that's ok, maybe she just needs time to think. In this particular case, you wonder if maybe she wants some company and begin to walk over to say hello.

As you watch, a small pink pony delivers a bowl of what looks like strawberry juice to her table. Why in a bowl, you wonder, but Twilight is pretty weird, so who the hell knows what she does what she does. She looks down at it for a moment, then all at once, she smiles sadly. You see reluctant tears spring to her eyes.

...oh no.

You know that look.

You've had that look before.

Is...is she...

Before you can say or do anything, she breathes sharply out and then plunges her head downward into the bowl. With sputtering and snorting noises, she begins desperately breathing the stuff in. She coughs, gags, and a ready stream of the stuff explodes from her mouth and nose with each deep breath of juice. She is now weeping openly into the bowl as she does this, her shoulders heaving with heavy sobs. Bubbles of chunky red line the bowl and her face. One larger bubble grows from her nostril, then recedes back in with each deep breath.

Oh what the fuck, really?

Without another word, you rush to her side.

“Oh fuck Twilight, what the shit are you doing??”

She stops huffing and coughing, and looks up at you as if she's a small child. Her face is spattered with red, and a thin stream of the juice still trickles form her nose and corner of her lip. The lip quivers, and fresh tears begin to fall.

“A-anon...” she whimpers.

With a resigned sigh, you hug her to your chest, strawberry stains and all, as she begins to tremble and cry.

“I...I just miss cocaine so much!” she says between sobs. “I had to snort something!”

"I know Twi, I know. But this is really stupid, even for you."

"I...know."

Well, at least she knows she's an idiot, and knowing is half the battle. Only two months clean, and already trying to drink juice through her nose? At this rate, you know she'll be back to her old habits in no time. You know from experience.

But come on, the least she could do was pick a different, thinner juice! You know you'll be picking strawberry seeds out of her nose for days.

This is why you don't want to live with addicts. They'll always juice drugs over you.

-End-

Author's Note

Eh, I needed something to update this. I am moderately sorry.

The Loaded Magazine

The noonday sun shines in through the kitchen window, casting a glorious beam of gold and white across your now clean lunch plate. You know, you never thought you’d get used to a mostly meatless diet but…nah, who are you kidding, you haven’t. That chicken you stole from Futtershy’s was perfect cooked up with a little paprika and garlic, the meat practically fell of the bone!

You let out a satisfied belch and pat your stomach contentedly.

Yep, not a bad way to spend a Sunday afternoon, all things considered. Besides, you roommate Twilight has even stayed out of your hair for a change, a welcome surprise. For the last month or so, she’s been intent on getting you to help her with her “science projects.”

These projects usually involve undressing, attaching electronic nodes to…places, or being unconscious while she does god knows what to you.

Every day it’s ‘oh Anon, would you be willing to eat this capsule? I promise it doesn’t do anything permanent that I know of.” or “Ok, if I were to inject you with this microbe, do you think you could sit still long enough for an X-ray?” or “Anon? Are you up for a little game of chutes and ladders, except instead of playing on a board I just attach these cables to your testicles and…”

You never have figured out what that one had to do with chutes and ladders in any way. Nor do you want to.

Yes, today is a welcome reprieve from her poking and prodding. The only thing that could possibly make it better would be some alone time in your room for a good solid wank. You do have a few dirty magazines you managed to take with you when you came here, some with very good looking (if not heavily airbrushed) girls, and some with even more…provocative pictures and stories.

As you consider this from the kitchen table in Twilight’s kitchen, it really seems like the only thing to do. Your mind made up, you rise, carefully dispose of Fluttershy’s chicken friend carcass and make your way to the modest chamber that is your room.

Just as you approach, you hear the odd sound of rustling and appreciative murmurs. For a moment, you freeze outside the room, just listening.

Oh god, someone’s in your room? Going through your stuff!

At first you think it might be that little twerp Spike. Last time you caught him in your room, he was sniffing your blankets and touching himself in…places. That time you’d walked in, locked eyes, and you’d both walked in different directions, never to speak of it again. Your sheets had been a light blue. You bleached them, and now you slept in white purity each night. You sometimes rebleached them, just in case he tried that again.

The idea of him doing it again makes you shudder a little, and you feel rage rising in your gut. You move once again to open the door, but stop when the sound of a female voice reaches your ears.

“Yes, very interesting…”

Oh god it’s Twilight.

You try to think what she’s doing. Has she stolen your clothes again and tried to cut tail holes in all of them so she can try them on? Is she organizing everything in your room alphabetically again? Always right to left, so at least your bed and bedside table were next to each other.

You take in a deep breath and let out a long sigh. If you go in, you have to interact with her. She’ll probably ask to do experiments on you. But the girl is between you and your pornography.

You know what you must do.

You take a deep breath, hold it this time, and throw the door open.

“Twilight, what are you…”

The words freeze in your throat.

There before you, sits Twilight fucking Sparkle, seated comfortably on the floor, smiling up at you absentmindedly. Around her, spread out in what looks like a geometrical pattern, is every last bit of pornography you own. You glance from it to her, then back again several times. She just continues to smile at you.

“Oh, hi there Anon,” she says brightly. “Nice day we’re hav-”

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?”

The words explode out of you. You make a running stride towards her, but she holds up a firm hoof for you to stop. Out of instinct you do, then you reconsider. What the fuck power does she have over you? This is your room! You again bolt towards her and your exposed collection, and you see her roll her eyes. With a warm glow of lilac, light envelops your body and her horn, and you find yourself paralyzed in place.

Oh…right. She has that power over you. Of course.

Unable to speak or move, you stare in horror and fury at the pony.

“As I was saying,” she continues. “Nice day we’re having, isn’t it?”

You try to respond that no, it’s not a nice fucking day, but all you can do is make a soft rumbling in the back of your throat, like a mentally handicapped cat. She nods, as if understanding what you said.

“Of course, of course,” she says. “Well, before I give you your power of voice back, allow me to explain.”

She stands, clears her throat, and begins.

“I was looking for you because I wanted to do a little anatomy experiment involving fire magic and human skin, but you weren’t here. I decided to find a place to hide to wait for you, that way I could just wait until you took your clothes off rather than asking you.”

Gee, thanks, really considerate Twilight.

“But when I went to hide under your bed, I saw a few…magazines under your mattress. When I took them out, I noticed that they were full of pictures of naked humans! Almost all female too, except for that one with all the really buff hairy males and really tiny skinny males with them.

Fucking hush about that one, Twilight, we don’t talk about that one!

“Anyway,” she continues. “I got to looking, and I’ve really learned a lot from these! I would say, though, some of these females look as though their mammies have been increased with magic. Do males prefer larger mammaries?”

Well, it depends. There are time when flat chests make a girl look more youthful, and pinching little tits is great. But if you want to really have fun, bigger boobs are more useful for taking your dick and putting it…

Wait, what the fuck, you’re not explaining this to her! Not that she can hear you anyway.

“So, it got me thinking,” she says. “There are some things in here that the females do with each other that seem really interesting. There are also some “tips” on what to do with the male anatomy, and I think I have some new experiments that I’d like to try.”

Her smile has changed now. It’s almost devious, almost scheming, and you don’t like the look of it. Experiments? Does she mean that she…

“You know,” she says lightly as she walks towards you. “I always wondered exactly how human anatomy tastes.”

Oh god, she does. She moves to the door and carefully shuts it, turning the latch to lock it. You’re definitely not going anywhere. Not that you’re sure you’d want to now. Maybe a pony blow job would be…

“And this magazine had a trick that involves using your teeth…I just hope I can bite hard enough for it to work.”

WHAT? What the fuck magazine said that?? That’s terrible advice, what the actual shit, that’s not how you suck dick! That’s how you bite it off! Wait…is…is Twilight going to bite your dick off? That’s a terrible experiment, she’s a shitty fucking scientist now that she became a Princess!

You’d tell her that, if you weren’t completely paralyzed. But you are. You’re completely fucked, probably literally. And not in the fun way.

Twilight removes your pants and pulls down your boxers. Your dick, which had been stiffening in a state of pre-wank as you thought about your afternoon’s activities, has been paralyzed at half mast. Twilight eyes it hungrily.

“Interesting,” she says. “I should really measure this, it seems a little small compared to the magazines.”

Oh come on, don’t add insult to injury!

She thinks about it, then shrugs.

“Maybe it would be more fun to measure it after. Nowthen, where was I.”

Her smile returns, and she moves her head closer to your dick, eyes practically flashing. You can see every single one of her teeth, gleaming and at the ready.

“I just have to remember to use all my teeth,” she says thoughtfully. “First the back, then the front. I’ll try a more flattening motion, as well as a cutting tearing chewing one. We’ll see what has the best results, don’t you think? You just stay put. I’ll work my magic.”

With that she makes a chomping motion with her teeth, then opens her jaws wide.

This is how it ends for you. This is how you get your dick mashed in giant fucking horse teeth. You can see the flats of her molars now, the soft pink of her tongue. You can see a jagged edge on one side, can see a slight misalignment where food and, perhaps skin may get stuck.

Today, you wanted to make sure your dick was satisfied. But instead, your dick is going to be used to satisfy someone else. “For science.”

You feel dizzy, woozy, and you can’t even sit down. You close your eyes as you see her move her mouth over your dick, and say a quick prayer to the penis gods that be. Make it swift. Make it painless. I’ll miss you, Mister Member, you were a good penis.

All at once, you hear a slam of a door down the hall, then the sound of erratic hoof-beats. It sounds like baby giraffe trying to run on a freshly waxed linoleum floor.

Then, from behind you, you hear the bang and crash of your bedroom door being completely torn from its hinges. Rending wood and metal squeal, and you jerk your head up to see Twilight standing in front of you, eyes wide and terrified.

You wish you could turn and look to see what has her so frightened. Maybe Spike is somehow here to rescue you, the little homo, or maybe someone has realized you’re here and…

“HELLO FRIENDS!”

…

That voice.

It can’t be.

“Um,” Twilight says quickly. “Hi there...uh...we’re kind of in the middle of something here, so could you-”

“DO YOU KNOW TENDIES.”

The pony is female alright, one you know, and sounds excited and angry and happy, all at once. It’s her natural state. Twilight blinks.

“Er, is there a pony named Tendies? If there is I haven’t-”

“I NEED TENDIES FOR EAT, I MUST FIND THEM NOW.”

“Ok, well-”

“HELP FIND TENDIES PRETTY PRETTY PRINCESS!”

What the fuck is even going on right now? Twilight looks equally confused, and you see her take a tentative step back, her horn still glowing to keep you trapped. If only you could turn over your shoulder to see this penis-savior's face. You suspect it looks genuinely stupid, but it would probably be quite beautiful to you right now.

“Look,” Twilight says slowly. “I’m not sure what you want, but I am in the middle of some magic experiments right now, but maybe after.”

“YOU HAVE MAGIC!” the voice rings out with all the delicacy and softness of a cement truck. “IF I TAKE MAGIC I CAN MAKE TENDIES!”

“But you’re already a unicorn, so…”

“MY HORN IS A DEAD LIGHTBULB!”

You hear a sound like someone hitting themselves in the face very hard, and behind it you can swear you hear a rattle, like a disconnected fuse.

“Well I-”

“I TAKE YOUR HORN AND MAKE TENDIES, THEN GIVE BACK OK.”

“Wait, what?”

“FOR TENDIEEEEEES!” comes a warbling battle shriek.

Without further explanation, a blur of sea-foam green flies past you and collides with a now squealing Twilight. She falls to the ground, the other pony on top of her, and you see the green snap grappling with her forehead, like she’s trying to tear Twilight’s horn off. You can also see the pony is drooling, flecks of it spattering Twilight's face and mane. The drool looks an odd shade of yellow-brown. Absolutely disgusting, but you'd expect nothing less.

You move your hand to your mouth to stifle a laugh and…

You move. YOU MOVE! You’re free!

In the commotion, Twilight must have stopped focussing on the spell! Now’s your chance!

You jerk your pants up from the floor and turn from the scene of the two ponies. You have to escape, get out of this place right the fuck now, before Twilight regains the upper hand! You dash out into the hallway, holding your pants up by the waist, and then make a skidding sprint towards the front door. From behind you, you can still hear the struggle, and the flutter and tearing of your pornography.

A pity, but it was all about making your dick happy anyway. And right now, a happy dick is a dick that’s far away from Twilight.

“I CAN BE TENDIE PRINCESS!” you hear the disjointed voice cry from behind you, followed by a scream.

Never in your life did you think you’d see the day you’d be saved from the worst blow job ever by Lyler. You’ll have to buy the kid a Cactus or something. Bitches love cactuses.

But that’s for later. Right now, it’s just about running, finding a place to hide, and waiting until it’s safe to get your things and leave this house forever. Maybe Fluttershy will take you in for a while. Well, assuming she hasn’t counted her chickens recently, of course.

-End-

Author's Note

Yeah. That's right. I did a Lyler Crossover. Wanna fight about it?

I hope not. I'm too drunk to fight. Enjoy.

-Pencil :heart:

Nightmareish Tastes

You stare at your bedside clock, then back up at the ceiling, then back again. From what you can tell, time has actually come to a complete halt. The crickets outside have created a soft lullaby of unchanging melody and rhythm, and it seems like an hour since the minute hand has last moved. You stare it down for a moment, willing it to move, counting over and over to 10 in your head, in the hopes it will get the hint. It doesn't. You blink, and when you open your eyes you think it's inched forward. But you're not even sure.

Damn it. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

What are you even doing here? In this treehouse, living with a pony and a fucking dragon who vomits mail sometimes. In this weird cartooney world where nothing changes, no time ever passes, and nothing even matter in the long run. Everything is perfect now, so why are you so miserable? Hell, even your roommate is kind of cool, if not a little anal sometimes. But you feel wrong, like you don't belong here, like you stick out. No one really cares about you. No one really loves you or gives a damn.

You sigh.

This isn't working. You're not sleeping. You tried counting sheep, warm milk (though god knows where the little dragon fucker got it from), singing yourself a lullaby. Yes, even the dulcet tones of Pantera haven't been able to send you to happy sleepy fun dreamland time. Honestly, it's time to call in the big guns.

Remember that roommate? That purple unicorn named Twilight? Well, her magic is good for more than just an occasional party trick and for tormenting certain little purple lizard pests who watch you when you shower. You've seen her heal wounds, seen her fix problems, and maybe she can help you find sleep, even if her magic cannot heal your aching heart.

Oh, boo-hoo, you big baby. Children are starving in China you know, and at least they have a factory job. Unlike you. Scrub.

With a grumble of self-hatred and frustration, you climb out of bed and make your way to Twilight's room. You gently rap on the door and press your ear to the wood, listening for any signs of life. When you hear none, you knock again a little louder, and the door creaks open at your touch. You freeze, the creak of the hinges sounding louder and usual in the stillness of the night. After another moment of silence, you realize you can barely make out the sound of slow, heavy, rhythmic snoring.

It would almost be adorable, really. If it didn't sound something like a distressed barn owl with each intake of breath.

"Twilight?" you call softly. "You awake?"

She's snoring. She's obviously not. God you're dumb.

You poke your head around the corner. Sure enough, you see Twilight's form, asleep in her bed, chest rising and falling with each snore. Carefully you tiptoe across the floor to her bedside. She looks so peaceful, but if you can't sleep, well...misery loves company, right? You stick out one hesitant hand and prod her shoulder a little.

"Pssst, Twilight," you hiss. "I need you to use your horn to do the magics with me."

No response. You raise your voice a little.

"Twilight, I need to-"

You hear a groan and she flops to her side, mumbling something under her breath. You're about to prod her again, when you're pretty certain you catch the sound of your name amidst her sleep-muddled mutterings. You listen and she mutters again. This time you're sure. That was definitely your name! You feel your breath catch in your throat.

Is...is Twilight dreaming about you?

"Anon," she mumbles softly.

"Yes Twilight?" you whisper.

"I'm..." She goes on. "I'm...srry."

You blink at her. Sorry? You want to ask what that means but she goes on mumbling, probably talking to some dream version of you. Her voice is slurred and lacks any tempo to it, but you can still make out what she's saying.

"I know you're...mmmmbad at saying howya feel," she half groans. "Wull so mm I, and I thingk your...nice."

You feel a strange swelling of warmth in your chest. This is...probably the kindest she's ever been to you. Not that she's mean, but usually she's distracted, busy, science focused, always leaving to take care of business. You've never even had the chance to become close. And now, here she is, saying that she thinks you're nice? The ego boost was one you didn't know you needed.

"Y-you're nice too," you whisper to her sleeping form.

She smiles a little, looking damn near angelic, then frowns again. A deep blush begins to spread over her cheeks.

"So mm sorry I never toldju..." she says, sounding genuinely sad.

She goes silent, adjusts a little, and then is quiet again.

Sorry she didn't tell you? Didn't tell you what? That blush, that body language, that confession that she thinks you're nice. Has it really been that...all this time she's been pushing you away, she's just been dealing with her own feelings for you? Maybe...she likes you even more than she let on? You feel a tightness seizing your throat as you realize, you can't tell her you know. No matter what she says now, you're destined to have to keep it a secret too, or she'll know you invaded her room while she was sleeping. Again.

You swallow hard.

You should leave now, forget you were here, but curiosity overwhelms you. Surely it's better to know, even if it tortures you later. Surely, it's better to at least hear her say it and know that someone actually cares about you, even in secret.

"What are you sorry about?" you whisper haltingly, feeling how dry the words are on your lips.

She turns over, and you can see the blush spreading across her face, the way her nose, mouth are all twisted up like she's trying to hold back, like she's embarrassed. All at once, you want to soothe her, touch her just for a moment, just in case you don't get the chance again. You touch her face with your fingertips, gliding slowly down along her cheek in a simple caress. She whimpers at the initial touch, but then a soft smile takes over. You smile back.

"I..." she murmurs, voice shaking with sleep and hesitation.

"Yes Twilight?

"I..."

"Yes?"

There's a moment of silence, and you think she's gone fully under sleep's surface again. Maybe you're destined never to know. But then her shoulders shudder, and at last she opens her mouth, smiling a little, and finally you hear her say...

"I've bnn usin your toothbrush toget poop outs my tailhair."

You stare down at her and slowly remove your hand from her face. Without a word you gradually being to back away, suppressing the gagging feeling that threatens to overwhelm your senses. Then you turn from her, shoulders slumped and defeated, and move towards the door in a weary trudge.

"Goodnight Twilight," you whisper, your voice steady and devoid of emotion.

"I've nevr cleaned id," she adds in a dreamy murmur.

"I said goodnight, Twilight."

"Also I thingk I'm nn love with you Anon."

"Eat a whole bag of dicks, Twilight."

You shut the door behind you and don't look back.

-End-

Author's Note

I can't sleep.

Also, go look up the sound of a distressed barn owl.
Do it.

A Brush with Fate

You look down at the brush Twilight is offering you with every imaginable ounce of annoyance. This is the third time this week that Spike has refused to brush Twilight's hair for her, and the third time she's come to you for help. She can't use her mouth to do it properly, and it requires someone with actual digits, according to her explanation. Why she doesn't do it by magic, you'll never know. Honestly you think she's probably just stuck up at this point.

"Again," you grumble. "What did you do to Spike to make him go on hair-strike this time?"

"Just do it" Twilight says to you around the brush clenched in her teeth.

"Nope, not until you tell me why Spike is telling you no."

She rolls her eyes at you, then sets down the brush on your knee. You brush it off like it's an unwanted crippled kitten, and watch as she glares at it on the floor, then back up to you. Her face grows red, but you're not sure if it's with anger or embarrassment.

"Fine," she says, practically spitting the words at you. "He won't brush my hair because sometimes I make...noises that make him uncomfortable. Does that make sense? I mean, I thought it was rude, so I stopped giving him food, but do you understand what I'm saying?"

You blink down at her as you try to wrap your head around what that means. Noises? What does she...oh. Oh my. Does Twilight make sex noises while she gets her hair brushed? You've been so distracted the last times you've done it, you weren't listening. Well, there were those whimpers when you tugged too hard, but you didn't think much of those. Wait, does Twilight whimper during sex? Another thought for another day, pay attention to the here and now. You have, in that brush, the ability to make Twilight Sparkle make sex sounds.

"So is it every time?"

She shakes her head, then flushes lightly.

"No just when it's...particularly intense."

You adjust yourself in your chair so that you're not sitting on important aspects of your anatomy, then clear your throat.

"Well, if you insist, I suppose I can help you."

She sighs in obvious relief.

"Oh thank you Anon, I don't know what I could have done without you."

She picks up the brush with magic (again, why can't she do this to brush her hair?) and hands it over to you. Then she turns and sits before you, head held regally high. You see her shimmy her shoulders a little as she adjusts into place and readies herself for your attention. You smile as you raise the brush, knowing what your goal is.

As the brush meets her mane, you pull down in a long, sensuous stroke, making sure to linger over areas where the brush catches and pulls. You go all the way to the end, then briskly tug away at just the tip, so that her hair fluffs a little with your movement.

Her body shudders. You're on the right track.

Once more you glide the brush through her mane from the top of her head all the way to the tips of the hair, pressing in so the bristles move across her neck. She shivers once more, and you think you hear a small squeak from her of exertion. Is she trying to keep quiet like a good little princess? You feel a swell of power, and penis, as you again raise your hand to make another brushing stroke. Then again, and again. You can see her muscles contracting, pulling, and she fidgets uneasily like she's trying to hold back.

You begin to hear a soft rumble in her throat, almost like a purr, and those soft distant whimpers you'd thought you'd heard before. She sounds like she's being wound up, about to let loose. With each brush you feel her body tremble under the bristles. Soon now, she won't be able to hold back.

At last you see her lips part, like she's panting from the exertion of keeping silent.

You're so close. That's right baby, moan for me. Whimper and moan for me, Twilight. Quake with pleasure.

Your brush catches a small snag, and her body goes taught as you tug against it a little. Ah, there it is, that magic button that will make her release. You smile as you steady the brush against it, ready to pull firmly, gently through it. Ready to hear your sweet little roommate moan uncontrollably at your mere touch. You grit your teeth, grab the brush, and give your purposeful tug and-

PPPPHHHHHHHTTH!

The sound is unmistakable, but even if it wasn't, the sudden vibration in her flanks tells you exactly what she just did. You freeze, looking down at Twilight. She slowly turns to look at you, smiling very sheepishly. The soft, wafting smell of horse flatus winds its way through the air to find your nostrils. You simply stare down at the conniving little form of Twilight, not believing what you've just heard and smelled.

"I...did say it was an uncomfortable noise," she practically squeaks out.

You don't answer her. Without saying another word, you lean down and gently grab the length of her mane in one hand. Then, with the brush, before she can protest, you rapidly brush all the hair in the opposite direction against the grain. She squeals like some small rodent, but it's too late. You press the brush into the epic rat's nest you've created to leave it there, then stand and walk away from the protesting princess. It'll take all the magic she's got to untangle that mess now.

You're not sure what the fuck any of this means, or why she thought this would be ok, but one thing is for certain: This whole roommate situation stinks.

Author's Note

I'm not sorry.
But now I can say I've done a fart story and I never have to do it again.
I can safely say, it was a gas to write.

I Get a Kick Out of You

“Hey Anon, want to play football?”

You lower your comic book and look down at your small purple equine roommate’s smiling face. You give her a sullen glare as you glance between the purple jersey she’s wearing and the very small soccer ball in her hooves.

“No,” you say flatly. “And it’s called soccer, not football. You can at least get that right.”

Even as you move to raise your comic book again, you can see that she’s beginning to frown.

“Um, I don’t think so Anon. Most ponies and nations here call it football, so…”

Your comic book lowers again and you narrow your eyes at her. The act silences her mid-word, and you see her throat move as she swallows hard.

“Look, I don’t want to play,” you say slowly and coldly. “And I’ll say it again. It’s called. Fucking. Soccer. Not football. Is that clear?”

Twilight steps away from you a little, seeming to cringe with each of your almost-spat words. As you finish speaking, she wipes a fleck of rage-induced spittle from one cheer with her hoof. She still grips the ball tightly in one arm.

“Well, ok, but I don’t know why you’re getting so defensive about it.”

This is all too much. You start up from your chair, and she lets out an impulsive yelp as you loom over her much smaller form. You take a few, heavy, stomping strides towards her, and she shuffles back along the floor like some kind of jersey-wearing crab.

“Oh, I don’t have to get defensive about it?”

“N-no, I don’t think-“

“That’s right, you don’t!” you shout. "You never for a minute even stopped to think what this does to me, did you?"

Her eyes look like they’re almost brimming with tears.

“B-but why are you so angry?” she manages to stutter out.

You feel a growl rise in your throat, and you begin to pace the wooden floor, digging your nails so hard into your palm that it feels like they’ll begin to bleed. Twilight watches you in silence, her grip on the small black and white ball tightening.

“Ever since I got here,” you begin in a low, quivering voice. “I’ve heard ponies talking about their sports. Their games. Derby racing, olympic-style relays and shit, basketball, flying competitions…and then I start hearing about you all playing football. You have this big stupid football league. You play against other nations, and they all seem to hate you for basically no reason, and you’re the best, you’re the best sports team, and all the other teams better get ready to die, right? I hear about it from every fucking pony I talk to it seems like.”

You know your breathing is growing heavier, but it’s too late for you to calm down now. You’re off on another tirade, and Twilight knows it. Her eyes flick back and forth, following your pacing.

“And every pony just keeps talking about it, and the whole time I just want to start screaming at you all that you just can’t fucking call it football. You CAN’T! You guys should call it soccer and be done with it, and every time you dare to call it football it makes me want to murder every last one of you! And I haven’t been able to say anything because I’m afraid I’ll offend one of you little pansy asses and start some sort of international incident!”

“Th-this has been bothering you for a while, hasn’t it?” Twilight squeaks out.

You spin to face her, shoulders shaking with held-back rage.

“Fuck yeah it has.”

“B-but why can’t we call it Football?” she barely murmurs.

You close the distance between you in barely two strides. Your hands shoot down to grab Princess Twilight by the front of her jersey, and you raise her, kicking and shrieking into the air. The whole thing is such a surprise, she seems to have forgotten she even has wings or magic. She’s just too shocked. You hold her close to you, bringing her nose up almost against yours.

“You want to know fucking why?!”

“Y-yes?”

“You want to know why you fuckers can’t call it football?”

You shake her vigorously with every word.

“…y-yes.”

Then, with trembling fists grinding into the cloth of her jersey, you draw the princess up alongside your face. You reach out with your lips until you can feel the gentle tickle of the fur beside her ear. You wet your lips with your tongue, take a slow, steady breath in, and let the words form in your throat before they come hissing out, like gas from a balloon.

“Because you’re fucking horses. You have hooves. You don’t have feet. So it’s not. Fucking. Football.”

You drop the pony heavily back onto the floor and storm to the doorway. As you slam the stone door back, shaking the whole room, you again level your gaze at Twilight where she sits, dazed on the castle floor. She blinks at you, still trying to see straight, and you sneer at her confusion.

“Feet is my thing,” you say coldly. “Stop appropriating my culture.”

Then you slam the door behind you, and leave her alone in her insensitive ignorance.

-End-

Author's Note

Done in celebration of /mlp/'s second star. Congrats on getting the cup, mates. Again. Enjoy the salt lick while it lasts you crazy fucks, Winter is coming.

Sleep Takes Hold

It's another night of you not being able to sleep it seems. You stare at the ceiling, you toss and turn, you count sheep in your head, but at this point nothing works, and you've named the sheep, and you're pretty sure some of them are flirting with you. No, tonight is just going to be another night where sleep doesn't find you.

Fuck this insomnia game. It would at least be more fun if you knew the rules.

As you let out a sigh and resign yourself to staring into the moonlit castle room until the sun leaks in through your window, you hear the soft creak of your door. You glance up to see the form of Twilight standing in the entrance to your room, her body outlined by the torches in the hall. She looks half awake, and a blanket is draped across one of her shoulders. She's even wearing the bunny slippers you got her for hearth's warming eve. You've never had the heart to tell her that they're made from real bunnies, but now doesn't exactly seem like the time.

"Twilight?" you say softly, your voice resounding in the otherwise still room.

She steps into your room and kicks the door shut behind her with a soft thud. Then, without another word, she trudges over to your bedside and turns to face you. Even in the very low natural lighting, you can see she has dark circles under her eyes. Maybe you're not the only one who's been having trouble sleeping.

"Move over," she growls.

Honestly, that doesn't sound like something you really want to do because you like your flail room when you sleep, but you suddenly feel magic envelop your body, and you shift over a good foot on your mattress. You open your mouth to protest, but she's already pulling back the blanket and sliding in beside you. Caught by the unexpected warmth beside you and the awkwardness of all this, you fall silent.

"I had a nightmare," she says at last.

"Oh."

You know you should probably say more, but you're not sure you want to know what pony princesses think about while having nightmares. Especially if that one was bad enough to drive her into your bed. You've heard of some of the shit she's been though, and none of it was pretty. Well, it was all pretty actually, they're bright colored glittery light-up tattooed ponies for fuck's sake, but some of it did sound pretty traumatic.

"It was vivid, and I can't get back to sleep now," she says hollowly.

"Oh...I'm sorry."

"I'm going to cuddle with you."

This is one of the single most baffling sentences you've ever heard from her. It's not even a question. Twilight and you have never been intimate, and have barely been roommates. You've been through shit, she's let you get injured before, she's even promoted some of the injury herself! The idea of cuddling with her now, like this, is...well honestly not bad. She's pretty cute. She's warm. And you can't sleep anyway. Maybe the least you can do is be a little productive.

"Oh, sure," you begin to say, but she's already taking action.

You feel her hooves wind their way around your bicep, and she presses her face against your shoulder and collarbone decisively. She squeezes you close, drawing up her back haunches so that her entire little body curls against your arm, clinging to it as if for dear life. You can feel her heartbeat through your bare skin, and you can feel her chest expand and contract with each breath. It freezes you, keeps you utterly still as you take in the sensation of it all.

You wait to see if she's going to speak, but after a short silence of just slowing heartbeat and breathing, you turn to look at her. Her head is so close to you, you can pretty much only see her mane and cheek.

"Twilight?"

She doesn't flinch, and the rise and fall of her breathing doesn't even alter. Is...is she asleep already? You shake your arm a little, which she's still holding very tightly, almost uncomfortably, but she doesn't flinch. Holy fuck, it looks like all she really needed to do to sleep was cuddle, just like she said! If only you were that lucky.

You shut your eyes and try to match the pony's breathing. Maybe if you try to count those sexy sheep just one more time, you might be able to-

An explosion goes off next to your eardrums, and your eyes shoot open.

It takes you a moment to try to figure out what the fuck is going on, but you quickly realize that it wasn't an explosion after all. Nope. It's Twilight. She's screaming.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

And not just a little, high pitched girl scream. She's screaming the cry of a valkyrie as it plummets to earth to retrieve a fallen warrior. The scream of a banshee harassing Albert Sharpe. The piercing noise of a Formula 1 car as it loses control and becomes a fiery but entertaining missile of death. You can practically feel your eardrums bursting.

"Twilight!" you cry out, but it doesn't pierce the sound echoing out of her wide open mouth.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

You shake her, she keeps screaming. You shake her again, harder, but whatever is going on here, she's in some sort of magical deep sleep and this isn't doing any good. You pry open one of her eyes, to find it's barely a pinprick, and completely unresponsive to a poke or two with your index finger. You try to pull your arm out of her grasp, but she's got it in a death vice grip. You consider chewing it off to save the rest of your body, but decide you're too much of a wuss to do that. You raise your free hand to try to cover her mouth, but the force of the air coming out of her is so strong that you can't make a seal across her lips.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST TWILIGHT, STOP!"

It doesn't stop. In fact, it raises in pitch.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

You put a hand over the ear nearest her, but your other eardrum still reverberates with the sound. You realize abruptly that she has yet to stop to take a breath. Maybe when she does you can get your hand there and cover it up! You just have to wait a little longer and...

Nothing.

Holy fuck, she must be finding a way to draw in air through her ears and then shoot it right out her mouth or something, because she's showing no sign of breathing! You thrash wildly, trying anything to get away, but it's no use. She weighs you down like some sort of pony-shaped stone, and her chin is planted very firmly on your shoulder, holding your torso down. The screaming continues, relentless and deafening.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Tears stream from your eyes and you too begin to scream, irrationally, uncontrollably. There's nothing else to do. You can't sleep. You can't move. You're trapped here until morning light, force-cuddling with a screaming pony for the foreseeable future. Your screams blend in a haunting harmony of pain, regret, and resignation. You're sure if you altered your tone any further, windows in the castle might begin to shatter.

Through tear-hazed eyes, you glance down to see Spike standing in your doorway. He glances from your open, screaming, crying face to Twilight's sleeping form with an expression of annoyance and exhaustion.

"I fucking hate you both so much," he grumbles, then shuts the door and leaves you alone with your noisy purple arm-cuff.

It seems no one in this castle is getting any sleep tonight.

-End-

Author's Note

I'll write something more significant later. As it is, this seemed appropriate.
Sleep is for the weak, right? Hahaha...hah...ha...
Yeah.

Head of Her Class

As you pass by Twilight’s room one morning, you hear the sound of soft weeping coming from inside. Despite every part of your self-preserving brain telling you to keep walking, you feel compelled to stop and look in on your castlemate. Because of course you have to do that. We wouldn’t have a story here otherwise, now would we?

As you open the door, you see her sitting by her bed, head resting forward on her folded hooves. As she hears you enter, she looks up, sniffs, and wipes her nose on the back of one hoof. A long trail of stringy, yellow-green snot trails from one of her large horse nostrils across the back of her entire leg. You repress the urge to sneer and tell Twilight that she’s fucking disgusting, and instead opt for a concerned smile.

“Hey Twi, what’s the matter?” you say as gently as you can.

She sniffs again and wipes once more. The snot on her arm somehow retreats back up the other nostril as she does.

“W-well,” she sputters out, voice thick with mucous. “I’ve been talking with princess Celestia and well apparently there’s this thing that all princesses have to do that I didn’t know about. It’s our responsibility or something, something we have to just suck it up and try. And…well, even before I became a princess I never did it, and I honestly don’t know how!”

Here she again begins to wail.

With a sigh of obligation, you move to her bedside and sit down next to her.

“Anything I can do?” you offer.

At first she shakes her head, then she freezes all over and an idea seems to take her. Her head jolts upwards and she locks eyes with you as tears around her cheeks begin to ebb.

“Actually…maybe there is. But it’s a lot to ask. I don’t even know how to begin.”

“Twi, we’ve lived together a long time now, you can count on me! What is it?”

She looks down and fiddles uncomfortably with the bedspread before finally blushing and looking up at you.

“Would…would you let me suck on your dick for a while?”

Your mouth drops open and you stare at her. Would you…would she…there has to be a catch, but before you can ask, she begins talking again.

“You see, Celestia says it has to be done, and has to be done a certain way. She says she’s done it, she says Luna has, and she says I need to find someone I trust and care about to do it with. I’d do it with Spike but I’m pretty sure Rarity gave him that STD on purpose and I dunno if he has it cured yet, and you’re nice and I don’t think you’d judge me too harshly, and you’re so responsible and dependable and trustworthy and nurturing so-”

You hold up a hand to silence her. You’ve heard enough. It’s not like you’ve been getting plenty of action around here anyway lately, and this sounds like a win-win. Besides, if Celestia is asking her star pupil to do it, it must be important. Also, apparently Celestia sucks dick, but that’s for another night and maybe another shower.

“Okay,” you say with a nod. “And I promise I won’t be mean and I’ll only give you pointers if you ask.”

Twilight brightens and practically lunges at your crotch.

“Oh thank you thank you thank you thank you!”

She’s already unzipping your pants, damn her dextrous hooves, and as your dick springs free, you hold up a hand against her forehead to stop her. She looks at you questioningly as you haven last, horrifying hesitation.

“Wait, you’re not going to bite my dick off or anything, are you?” you say with a glare.

She wrinkles her nose at you and shakes her head.

“Ew, no, gross, who would do that? That’s stupid.”

You agree, but before you can voice this, she leans forward and engulfs your cock in her warm, moist, rather cavernous mouth. The sensation is sudden, enthralling, and almost tingly. Rather than words, a breathy little gasp of pleasure slips past your lips.

Holy shit. This is actually happening…and she’s not hurting you or messing with you or anything! Is this…is this what a good life feels like? Is this what it’s like not to be destined for pain and misfortune? You’ve never known this feeling before, and you relish every second of it.

Twilight’s head bobs up and down over your engorged dick with an increasing rhythm. There’s no way she hasn’t done this before, even though she said she hadn’t but you’re not going to call her out on that now, it’s not worth the risk and you don’t want her to stop, not for a single beat. You’re honestly not sure why this happened, how this happened, or what all this is but you don't care.

This. Feels. Amazing. And what on earth is that thing she’s doing with her tongue?!

She works you over expertly, either hoof pressing firmly but tenderly along the inside of your thighs. You can't suppress a soft groan as she does that thing with her tongue again where she caresses the area just past the head before slipping down to flick along the underside.

Huh. Pony-tongue, who knew?

You can feel the tension building, getting you closer and closer. Already? Well, your dry spell has been pretty damn long, it’s hardly surprising, and you doubt she’ll really care that much. Her jaw has got to be sore with the pace she’s going! You tip your head back, your breathing quickening, your body clenching and relaxing in rolling waves. She half moans and mumbles something around your cock, her eyes closed and tearing at the corners with exertion.

Did no one teach her not to talk with her mouth full? Silly princess still has a lot to learn it seems, you’ll have to tell Celestia on her.

She says it again, and this time you can sort of hear it.

"Aahm cnmmig."

What? It almost sounds like she says she’s...cumming? Wow, what the fuck, she really loves giving head that much? Whatever, you are too, good for her if she does, it makes you feel like a bit of a stud anyway.

Her pace quickens, her tongue continuing to work towards the tip again.

Oh fuck you're going to lose it if she keeps doing that. You’re close. You can feel yourself building, it’s…

All at once, the princess of magic plunges her tongue deep into your peehole.

You let out a cry of shock and pain as it delves deep, deeper than expected. Your mind reels, trying to make sense of all this. What is she…why? How? You thought this was going to finally be something nice, why did it have to change! To your horror you suddenly feel a hot rush of thick tingling liquid worming its way through your dick, flowing readily from the pony's tongue.

What...no...stop!

You feel your shaft and balls begin to swell with the sheer volume of it. You're not going to cum anymore, this shit hurts! Ok, kinda feels good too, but it's just way too weird. Sounding is so not your fetish.

The princess moans as she continues to pump you full of fluids, then at last, she pulls back, cheeks flushed, shoulders trembling. You feel her tongue slither out of your insides, and the sensation is something like your dick taking a massive shit as glittery, purple liquid flows out afterwards. You're barely able to remain sitting up on the edge of the bed, but the shock of it all paralyzes you enough to keep you rigid. Well, except for your cock. Twilight licks her lips, tongue looking oddly deflated. Then she smiles at you woozily.

“Thanks Anon,” she says with a soft but strangely awkward smile.”I really needed that. Celestia will be so proud. Of both of us. Now I…er…have to go. For a while. Got…things to do in other nations, ponies to see, you understand. I’ll be back…eventually.”

You certainly do not understand. You can barely understand which way is up and which way is down right now, but you manage to let out a warbled sound from your throat, much like the noise of a balloon deflating. She smiles, a little pityingly at you, and pats you on the shoulder and then begins to edge away.

“Aw, that’s…that’s sweet, you too,” she says. “I’ll give you some bits for pizza or something, but I really gotta go now, okay? See you in nine months!”

Then, before you can ask questions, she turns and sprints at a full gallop out of the room. You hear the castle door slam behind her downstairs. For a moment, you sit alone, in silence, much-abused urethra continuing to leak magic pony tongue jizz.

Nine months? What…what does she mean by that? Where’s she going? Don’t you even get a cuddle? You grumpily wonder to yourself if rooming with this princess has been a mistake all along.

Well, it’s not until your balls begin to swell with budding life a month later that you realize just how grave a mistake you’ve truly made.

-End-

Author's Note

Good to be back. And yeah. Sounding is SO not my fetish.

Oh Baby

Twilight has gone out for the day and for now, the castle stands empty. The whole place is silent and deserted, and as you glance out of your room, you can practically smell the isolation. It’s perfect. No Spike, no malfunctioning princess magic, just you and a massive empty castle. All to yourself for a whole day. Nothing can possibly go wrong.

The only remaining question is really what to masturbate to first. And where! You’ve always wanted to fap onto the table in equestrian map room, and this seems like the perfect time. You can literally flood Ponyville or Equestria with semen, knock down buildings with your dick. It’s like being Godzilla, but phallic. Well, more phallic.

You make your way down the stairs, loving the way your footsteps echo, and move towards your intended target. Just as you reach the bottom of the steps to the main hall, you hear a squeaking wrench of hinges, and the front door scrapes open.

Oh god, intruders! Abort fap mission, head for the showers!

Unfortunately, it’s too late, and as you make a break for the steps, you hear Twilight’s voice ring out like the crack of a technicolor whip.

“Anon!”

You freeze. You look up sheepishly at the princess, trying to pretend that everything is normal, and that your dick isn't straining like a caged animal against your zipper.

“Oh, hey Twilight, what’s-“

Before you can go on, Twilight strides into the room and slams the door behind her with a back hoof. You jump at the unwelcome noise. So much for isolation.

“Anon, front and center.”

Before she can force you to do so using magic, as she's done many times before, you trot over and stand like a good little soldier in front of her. She pulls up a cardboard box beside her and glares at you.

“As you’re aware,” she says tersely, “I don’t make you pay rent.”

“Yeah, and I’m grateful,” you assure her.

“I don’t even make you really do chores.”

“That’s what Spike is for though.”

“I know,” she says with a muted sigh of relief. “His scaly ass would be at the curb so fast if his claws weren’t small enough to fit into the drain pipes to clean clogs. But anyway, I think it’s high time you earned your keep.”

You sigh. You always knew this day was coming, and you suppose it’s been a fun run of free lodging while it’s lasted. You hang your head to your chest and accept your fate.

“I understand,” you say. “And if you feel I need to pay you with sexual favors or something-”

She wrinkles her nose in disgust at you.

“Ew no.”

Well, there goes your confidence for the day.

“So,” you say, clearing your throat to hide the quiet sobs of rejection you feel quickly forming, “chores then?”

“Something like that.”

Without further words, she pushes the cardboard box towards you and points to it with one hoof.

“I need you to take care of… that for the day,” she says, practically spitting the word ‘that.’

With much trepidation, you open the box and see two comically large eyes and chubby cheeks staring up at you. It’s a baby. An alicorn baby. And it has freakishly large candy-looking wings, and it’s rolling all over itself and… oh god, it’s hideous. It coos at you softly, then spits up on itself a little. It seems to notice the bile on its own stomach, and makes a giddy squeal of delight. You resist the strong urge to push the box back to Twilight, or out the door altogether.

“It’s…a baby,” you say haltingly.

“No shit, shetland,” she replies in a growl.

“And you want me to, what, watch it for you?”

“Yes. I have things to do. And whenever Cadence and Shining armor see me they try to get me to foalsit and I can’t this time, I can’t do this anymore!” Her voice is rising in pitch, sounding wild. “I can’t clean up after it, I can’t change the diapers, I can’t listen to it sound like a broken squeaky toy. I. Just. Can’t.”

“Okay, okay,” you say, holding up your hands defensively. “I get it, but I kinda had plans today too, you know.”

In fact, you can feel your balls turning practically turquoise. You knew what you were going to do, you had your body and mood all set for it. Some part of you just won’t let go of the thought of raining down the white seed on mini-equestria. It’s damned uncomfortable.

“I don’t care,” Twilight says, and pushes the box towards you again. “If you want to live here, you watch the baby.”

“Wait, why is it in a box?”

Twilight shrugs.

“Psh, that’s where we always put foals that we find annoying or disgusting or to throw them out, didn’t you know that?”

Well that’s distressing, but it seems you have no choice. Your dick and balls beg you to not make them wait. Maybe if you ask her real nice like.

“Look I really don’t want to-”

“Too bad, you’re doing it,” Twilight says with narrowed eyes. She shoves the jiggling, cooing box into your arms, then pushes past you towards the door. “I’m going out, don’t wait up.”

“B-but…”

“Nope, I’m going out. Bye.”

“Wait, what do I call him…her…it?”

“Just call it the baby, everyone else does.”

Twilight goes back to the front door, opens it, then slams it behind her, leaving you alone with…well, with the baby. With a tentative hand, you open the top of the box and look in on your little bundle of vomit-stained joy. It stares up at you, seeming not to give a shit that its sitting in a cardboard box with a stranger. You try not to grimace at it, and try a smile instead.

“Well hey there… you.”

The baby reaches up towards you and spits up a little more. You cringe away.

This is horrible, gross, terrifying, and all you wanted to do was fap. Hell, all you still want to do is fap. But with this baby here, you don’t see how that’s going to be possible. There’s no way you’re going to get off unless…

A sudden idea strikes you, and you look in at the baby with a quickly growing plan and smile, and a quickly expanding dong. You know, this might actually work out.

——

Five minutes later, your plan seems to be perfectly fitting into place.

You’re sitting on a couch a little ways away from the baby, dick in hand, masturbating furiously. The kid is completely preoccupied with a crystal mobile, and as you sit with your back towards the child, you’re at least pretty sure the baby hasn’t noticed what you’re doing. And you’re going to make sure things stay that way. You don't want to traumatize the stinky little darling, but it's so preoccupied with the mobile that you have all the time in the world to relieve some serious sexual tension. What the baby doesn’t know won’t hurt it, and besides, cumming onto one of Twilight’s pony anatomy books for her to find later (partially as revenge) is almost as good as cumming on the table map.

What, you thought you were going to do the sexy times with the baby? Come on, Anon, even you aren’t that fucked up.

Are you?

-End-

Author's Note

Figured some of you might need a laugh this week. Also, did you REALLY think I was going to go the toddlercon route with this one? For shame!

...yeah, I know, I wouldn't put it past me either.

Harsh Warming Eve

With a little flourish, you add the last bit of holly to you mantle, and stand back to admire your hard work. Having a fireplace in your room is just one of the perks of living in a castle, and even if these Godless ponies don't celebrate Christmas, you're going to do your chimney up right. You've hung a red stocking with care, after practically begging Rarity to make it for you, you've put holly branches across the mantle and by every window. You've cut down a tiny tree, ignoring Fluttershy's screams of horror, and set it up in one corner of your room, then decorated it with clothespins you've painted to look like nutcrackers. In general, the place looks pretty damn Christmassy. And christ almighty born again this day do you love Christmas. Now, you're ready to kick back, relax, and enjoy your human holiday without-

Twilight kicks open your door with a jingle of bells. You jump, and suppress a growl of frustration as a few of the bells tumble from the doorframe onto the floor. Princess Twilight glances down at them, scowls, then glances to your fireplace. She clicks her tongue in distaste, and shakes her head.

"Look, Anon," she says gruffly. "I know you like plants and stuff, but this place looks like a florist and a seamstress had angry sex and forgot to pick up afterwards."

"Gee, thanks."

"Anyway, not why I'm here," she continues, wandering over to the fireplace to scratch at the ashes with her hoof. "Have you seen Spike? All the fireplaces are out and I want him to be the one to light them for the holiday tonight."

"Holiday?" you say, brightening a little. Perhaps they celebrate Christmas after all.

"Yeah," she says tersely. "It's hearth's warming eve. And we need warm hearths."

Okay, so not Christmas, but it's a start. Maybe you can convert these heathen ponies yet.

"Well, I can go find him for you if you like," you offer. "Help get everyone in the spirit, right."

"Yeah, okay I guess," she says with a shrug. "I should really talk to him first, lay down the law with him, but I suppose as long as it gets done."

A thanks would have been nice, but you can let it go, as a secret gift to one of the world's worst roommates. You manage a smile for her sake, then slip past her down the hall in search of the little dragon.

After checking his room, the kitchen, and a few closets where you've caught him masturbating before, you finally make your way to the Library. Sure enough, Spike is sitting on the top of a tall bookshelf. He is staring at the ceiling, looking pretty much half-awake, and he doesn't even seem to notice when you walk in the room. You wait a moment, but he doesn't look your way, so you clear your throat. Still nothing. You cough a little harder, and at last he glances down from is perch at you, looking deeply unimpressed.

"Oh, hey Anon."

Alright, Christmas Spirit. Big smiles, kindness, good will, generosity, undying love of our lord and savior Jesus Christ. You've got this.

"Hi Spike, Happy Holidays!"

He rolls his eyes and looks away from you again.

"Yeah sure, for you maybe."

You choose to ignore his dismal tone, and maintain your cheery smile.

"So, Twilight is looking for you, something about-"

He holds up a claw for you to stop.

"Let me guess. She wants me to light every fire in the castle for Hearth's Warming Eve, and to get it done by tonight. That about right?"

"Actually yeah, so if you could..."

The tiny dragon is already shaking his head.

"Not gonna happen."

"But-"

"Look, I know how this goes. The assistant does everything, completely sacrifices themself for their master, but this is a holiday. This is a special holiday, and you know what? Not today. I'm not doing it today. Today I will watch out for me, and she can get someone else to give life and limb for her every whim. Today, I'm not her assistant, and that's what I'm sticking with."

You fall silent. You know Spike is an idiot, but even he has to know that this won't end well.

"You realize she'll be really pissed."

"Yep."

"And she'll probably scream at you."

"Of course."

"She could even hit you with a sock full of batteries, you know she's done that before."

To your great shock, Spike simply shrugs this off.

"I don't care. It's worth it to not do her bidding, just for today. Like I said, I'm sticking with it. Now, could you leave me a lone? I have some... stuff I want to think about."

Ignoring the fact that you're sure he's going to go masturbate somewhere in the library, probably to anatomical medical drawings of dragons again, you turn and leave the room. Something about all this doesn't sit right with you. Spike is right, he does work really hard, and he does deserve a day off, especially on a Holiday. But you know Twilight , and she won't handle this well. She'll probably destroy the little guy. You're not exactly a fan of the little guy, but he doesn't deserve that treatment today. Maybe you could talk to her...

The instant the idea crosses your mind, a shiver runs down your spine.

No, nope. No way are you doing that. Twilight has magic, and the last time you tried to tell her she was wrong, she made you piss horsehair for a week. It might not sound that bad, but the dryness, oh god, you'll never forget the dryness or the fleas. Never again, you'll have to find another way.

Well, you never did get him a gift, you realize. You weren't even going to get him one in the first place, considering you think of him as more of a plot device than a person, but maybe that's not fair. It's Christmas, and if you're going to show these Equestrians that it's the superior holiday, you should probably practice what you preach. With a satisfied nod, you set out in search of matches and newspaper to crumple up. You're going to make this Spike's best Christmas ever.

Five hours later, you slump exhaustedly against the outside of the Library door, panting, sweaty and sooty, but finished. You hadn't realized that the castle had a whopping six hundred and sixty six fireplaces, at least counting the oven in the kitchen and the little heater in the grand bathroom. You've pretty much wasted your entire Christmas lighting fires, but it feels good to do something kind for the little dragon. Now you don't have to do anything nice for him for the rest of the year! You're about to open the door to tell him what you've done, when suddenly you hear a gentle cough behind you. You turn to find Twilight standing there, eyebrow raised.

"Hi Anon."

"Twilight," you say with a smile. "Happy holidays, how goes it?"

"Well, I just wanted to check," she says, ignoring your seasonal greeting. "to be sure that Spike lit all the fires in the castle like I wanted."

You're about to tell her that it was you who did it, when it occurs to you that you really ought to give the little guy the credit. After all, the best kind of gifts don;t need gratitude, you just do them out of the goodness in your heart. You smile broadly as you think about what a good person you are.

"You know what?" you say, "He did. Every single one is lit, even the oven in the kitchen."

Twilight blinks in surprise, and seems to cheer up a little.

"Wow, already? I have to say, I'm surprised. You must have really said something to make him get into the work to have it all done this quick. I thought he'd probably resist it, to be honest."

"Nope, I just had to ask. He's a pretty hard worker."

She nods slowly.

"That's true enough. Well, I guess it's time for me to go see him then, let him know that he did well. It's about time for the holidays to begin, anyway"

"Oh good! You know, I was hoping that we could maybe roast chestnuts, sing some songs from holidays back in my lands..."

"Sure, sure, after the opening sacrifice."

"Oh, of course, after..."

Your merriment falls silent on your lips, as your mind catches up with the conversation. Wait, sacrifice? Before you can ask for clarification, Twilight throws open the doors to the library and confidently strides inside. As you stand there in shock, you hear her yelling Spike's name, then hear a scream, a scuffle of books and falling shelves, and the scrape of wood under slaws and thrashing scales. As you watch, completely awestruck, Twilight marches past you, magically dragging the little dragon behind her. His claws make continuous little divots in the wood as they move past, the sound something like mouse bones snapping underfoot.

"But I didn't light the fires!" Spike screeches. "I didn't even touch the fireplaces!"

"Don't lie, you did a good job. You should be happy to be sacrificed to the holiday Windigos!"

"But I didn't do it, I would never!" Tears roll down his cheeks as he screams. "I don't want to be sacrificed, I don't volunteer, why would I light the fires!?"

"That's not what Anon says."

"He's lying then!"

Twilight finally stops and turns to face you, holding Spike suspended in the air beside her. She looks at you, obviously exasperated, and then rolls her eyes.

"Look, I know he's just trying to get out of it, but he did light the fires, right?"

"Wh-what is going on," you stutter out, looking from the quietly weeping dragon to your psychotic roommate.

"Ah, right, you're bad at holiday stuff and worship some magical dude who died because he was a weak-ass bitch. So, every year we begin our holidays by sacrificing an assistant to the Windigos so they leave us alone for another year. Today was Spike's year, but he has to show he is ready by lighting all six hundred and sixty six fires in the castle before we sacrifice him by slicing his living heart out of his chest while he's splayed out on an altar of ice in the main parlor. Oh, and then we eat cake."

Well, I guess this is what happens when you try to be nice to Spike.

You blink, not fully understanding what you just heard. Twilight simply looks at you patiently, but your mouth works without anything coming out. There's nothing to say, no way to make sense of what is happening.

"I mean," Twilight says slowly, "You're an assistant too, so if you were lying and you did it instead... is there anything you want to tell me, Anon?"

You hastily reach up and wipe a smear off ash off of your cheek.

"Nope! Spike sure did a good job, it's great that he volunteered!" you say brightly, trying to hide the trembling in your knees.

Spike looks up at you with eyes filled with betrayal, lower lip dropping in horror. You try to mouth the words "I'm sorry," to him, but you're not sure he has time to see it before Twilight shrugs and again begins to drag him towards the main parlor. He instantly begins to wail again.

"You traitor! You son of a bitch!" Spike screeches. "You selfish evil asshole I'll kill you!"

"Hush Spike," Twilight says brightly. "Maybe he'll be lucky enough to be selected next year, and I'll be sure to kill him in your honor."

You hear Spike begin to cry like a frightened child as the pair descend the steps, Twilight singing a festive Hearth's Warming tune. You watch them go with a heavy heart, and begin to accept, then and there, that you'll never convert any of these pagan ponies to the way of Christ.

-END-

Author's Note

Happy Holidays. I hope your human sacrifices go well.

-Pencil :heart:

Also, please note, I am neither advocating for or against Christianity. Even I am not that stupid.

Spare Some Change?

It's just another day in the crystal castle, and you're pretty god damn sick of it.

Every morning, you wakeup to the sound of girlish screaming, which you now know is simply the noise of a dragon being beaten with a spatula for burning the toast. Again. Then, as you walk out to the stairs, you have to step to the side to get around an owl that is vomiting up the fur and bone remains of the mice that were too slow to get to Fluttershy's house by nightfall. At last, by the time you reach the kitchen for breakfast, Twilight will be twitching with nerves and yell at you about something you did wrong, like shaking the alphabet cereal so it's no longer in alphabetical order. And she worked all night to put them like that, then get them back in the box!

It's a routine, sure, but not the one you want. Your roommate is an ocd princess, your maid is a scale-covered baby that screams like a fire alarm, and your pet is a bird that doesn't understand how to poop out its day old dinner like a normal person. Something needs to change.

You go down the stairs, hating the crunch of an owl pellet under your stocking feet as you accidentally misstep, and seek out Twilight in the kitchen. Sure enough, she's standing in there, counting the floor tiles over and over, probably for the fifth time this morning, you guess.

"Twilight," you say officially. "Things need to change."

The purple pony jumps, and turns to face you, panting, pupils dilated like you're an oncoming train and she's a depressed high school sophomore who just can't believe that it gets better.

"Oh! Anon... just in time, I need your help."

"Not today, Twilight."

"Okay. Good. You see, there's this book that talks about how this thing called an enema can be used to... wait. What did you say?"

Twilight goes very still, then slowly lowers her head, eyes narrowing. You feel a sense of foreboding, but you sort of feel that every morning anyway, so you quickly shrug it off.

"I said not today. I won't help you with some crazy project, I won't go somewhere with you, and I won't listen to whatever is troubling you," You puff out your chest some as you say this. "Today, I'm going to sit down with you and discuss making changes to my life."

Without her expression changing at all, Twilight moves to the kitchen table and sits down, facing you. Her energy is gone, and her posture seems cold.

"Okay," she says quietly. "Talk."

Something in her tone warns you that talking is a terrible idea. But no. You have to do this. It's time for you to do something that'll make your life better, and that begins with talking to your roommate. You pull up a chair, trying to make sure your hands aren't shaking, and face her to begin the conversation.

"Twilight," you say slowly. "I am not happy living here anymore. You've been a wonderful host... actually you've been terrible, but at least you took me in. Now, though? I'm on my feet. I'm comfortable. It's time for me to go out and find my own way."

Twilight is silent, unblinking. You decide it's best to just push on.

"What I'm saying is that I'm moving out, Twi. Soon. I know you don't charge rent or anything, so it's not like you'll be hurting for money without me, and maybe you'll enjoy having an extra room to mess around with. I'll still always consider you my friend, I just wanted to let you know, before I leave. It'll take me a few days to find a new place, sure, and..."

You trail off as you hear Twilight beginning to laugh. A low rumble of laughter begins to spread through the kitchen, like approaching thunder. You shiver, suddenly inexplicably cold, as the laughter rises in pitch to an open cackle. Your body tenses, ready for an attack or spell you know must come. Instead, she simply begins to speak.

"Move out?!" she practically shrieks. "You think you're moving out? Oh Anon, sweet simple Anon, you're not going anywhere."

You feel your heart skip a beat. What has she done? Did she seal the doors shut? Did she make it so that you'll die if you go outside? Does she intend to kill you before you can reach the main stairs?

"What," you say, voice trembling, "are you talking about? I told you, I'm moving out. Tomorrow if I can."

"Oh no you won't."

"Why not?" you shout, bolting to your feet and practically knocking over the chair you were sitting in. "What did you do? Is it a spell or...or... so help me, you may be a princess, but I'll fucking cut you if you try anything, bitch!"

But she simply laughs and shakes her head.

"I don't have to do anything," she says, tone sweet, quiet, and completely condescending. "You can't leave. Well, unless you want to sleep on the street."

What does she mean? What is she talking about?

"You mean," she says, seeing your confused expression, "you actually think someone else will take you in?"

Another burst of laughter from the princess.

"Oh my god, you did, din't you?" she says scornfully. "Well, let me just educate you on a little something Anon, before you ever dare to call me terrible again."

Here, she gets up and leans lifts into the air, getting her face only inches from yours. She hovers only inches in front of you, and whispers the next words like she was telling you a nursery rhyme.

"Have you ever seen another owl here? Another dragon? Here in Ponyville? Spike and Owlowiscious came here because they were utterly alone. No one to talk to, no one to understand, no one to care about their fates. And that's why you came too."

You feel a distinct sinking in your chest as she continues.

"You think you have friends? You think ponies here actually love you? They don't even like you. Your long gangly limbs, your disgusting fractured looking... hands. And especially your face. That squat muzzle with huge pink lumps around the mouth. that scruffy gross bunch of hair over each eye. Oh, and definitely the way your knees bend the wrong way. Anon, they all think you're hideous. You make young ponies cry, and you mean you've never noticed? Pinkie pie didn't throw up when she first met you because she'd overeaten. She threw up because the very sight of you is repulsive. The way you speak, the lack of fur, the way clothes fit you... everything about you is so perverse. Fluttershy doesn't even think you're a real animal, just some weird amalgamation of magic and amputated limbs. So, why would anypony take you in?"

"N-no..." you choke out, but it's all you can say.

"Yes," Twilight says, smiling. "You have no family. You have no one like you. And you have no one that likes you. No one will hire you, because what can you do? This world is made for ponies, and you are not shaped like a pony, you can't do pony things. You have no use to us. You have no purpose. And as far as love? You can't reproduce! I mean, do you even know how to mount correctly? I bet you never even did that with a human, before you came here!"

You try not to think about the fact that she's right.

"And lastly," she says. "Most importantly, no one has time to take care of you. No one has time to explain how this world works, no one has time to cook for you, figure out what use you could possibly be, no one has time to hear you ramble on about your home and how you miss it. Oh, boo hoo for you, it's all you talk about. So you don't have any money for a new place, you can't get any and no one will take you in. Ponies are afraid of dragons, so no one wants Spike. Owls are messy, and no one wants them as a pet. I've heard the way you talk shit about those two, but accept it Anon, you're just like them."

"No!" you scream. This is too much. It can't be. "I'll...I'll leave!"

"Try it," Twilight hisses. "You'll be back in no time. Life on the streets will be so hard during winter, you'll be dead before the first week is out. Face it, Anon. You have no where else to go."

Here, she pauses to give a short, bitter laugh.

"I'm all you've got."

You stand there, panting, trembling, as Twilight floats past you, chuckling softly to herself. It's true. It's all true. You can't leave. Twilight is your only solace in this world. It's her or eventual death.

"Now, if you'll follow me," she say from the kitchen door, "I need to show you this medical book. I have some questions about enemas that require experimentation."

You begin to sob softly as you turn to face her, and trudge after her towards her lab, for another day of misery. It's just another day in the crystal castle, and there are many more to come.

-End-

Author's Note

I missed writing these...

It's Always an Option

You are depressed.

There’s just no two ways about it, you’re feeling fucking terrible. You lay on your cold, crystal bed in the castle and just look at the ceiling, quietly hating everything about your life. Which reminds you, who makes beds out of crystal, anyway? They’re horribly uncomfortable and cold and not even suited for a pony or a human like you.
Meh. Whatever. You probably deserve the discomfort anyway.

The fact is, you’re useless. You don’t have a job, you barely have any friends, and with the fact that your roommate is a damn princess, you feel inadequate no matter what you do. You can’t do magic, you can’t fly, hell, you can’t even buck apples on the farm, though you did try that once.

There’s no place for you here. There’s no point to your being alive. You try to quiet the voice in your head that says this, but it just won’t shut up. You feel the weight of it pressing down on your body like a physical force. It’s hard not to pick up some booze and just drink yourself into a coma. Or better yet, drink yourself to death.

You hear the sound of hoof falls outside your bedroom door. No use looking up, you know only one pony would ever come to visit you.

“Hey Anon,” Twilight says happily. “What are you up to.”

“Nothing,” you say flatly.

“Oh… well, want to help me with some spells?” she says, sounding undeterred by your morose tones

“Not particularly.”

“Well, I know Spike could use a little help, so why don’t you-”

“No thank you.”

“If you’d like to get out of the castle you can always-”

“I said no thank you,” you say, a little more firmly.

You know Twilight is trying to help. You know she just is trying to kill the inertia of depression by getting you up and moving. It’s a sweet thought to be honest, but you doubt she can help, even if she is a pretty pastel pony that’s all about friendship.

“Anon, what’s wrong?” she says after a long pause.

You think for a moment, then heave a heavy sigh before you answer.

“I’m utterly alone here. Even if I have friends, even if I make a life here, I’m alone. I can’t do anything right and… I don’t know. I guess I just feel like a worthless creature. I don’t see the point of life right now.”

The princess is silent.

“You know,” she says quietly. “I… if you’re really that sad, maybe I can help you out.”

“That’s nice of you, but I don’t think…”

“No, I mean,” she says slowly. “With magic. I could cast a spell on you that would, you know, make you feel a little better about being alive.”

Despite the voice in your head telling you that this is definitely not going to work, you have to admit it at least sounds like a new option. What could it hurt, after all?

“You know, okay,” you say. “I’ll try it, Twilight. Cast your heathen magic.”

You look up to find her beaming at you from the doorway. With every last ounce of your strength, you sit up slowly in bed, and steady yourself on the edge of it. Before you can even ask how this is going to work, her horn begins to glow a shimmering purple, and a strong beam of light suddenly shoots out to impact your chest.

You feel a warm glow spread over you, starting at that weird dark place in your chest that’s supposed to have a heart in it. It flows through your veins, like glitter, but less horrible and impossible to clean, and you feel tingly all over. Something is happening to you! You can feel the muscles in your face contracting, can feel your eyes opening wide, your eyebrows raising. Like your face is made of clay, the magic molds it and moves it. Your mouth opens, your lips pull back wider and wider, and then, all at once, it stops.

“Uh… Twilight?” you say haltingly.

“Look at that!” she exclaims with a clap of her hooves. “It worked!”

“I don’t feel any happier.”

“But you must, you’re smiling so big and gladly!”

You reach up with one hand and feel your face. Sure enough, your lips are curled up at the edges into an impossibly wide smile, so wide that it even hurts a little. Your eyes curl up at the edges too, like you’re Santa or something, and your eyebrows are up like you’re constantly delighted. But deep inside, nothing has changed. The world is still a bleak place for you.

“Twilight,” you say urgently, but even your words sound sunny. “I think you just made me smile.”

“That’s good, right?”

“I mean, you JUST made me smile. And I can’t stop. I’m not happier, my life isn’t better, I just look glad. I’m still… I still feel terrible. I still feel like I want to die.”

She’s silent a moment, and she rubs her chin thoughtfully. After a brief pause, she gives a shrug and smiles her own massive smile at you.

“Well, at least now when you kill yourself, you’ll look happy while doing it!” Twilight says brightly. “No one likes a frowning corpse!”

With a smile plastered all over your big stupid face, you lower your head and begin to cry. Now you really do wear a mask to hide your depression, one you can never take off. Twilight begins to hum a familiar song you once heard Pinkie sing, about smiling, as she turns to leave your bedroom

...

Oh, also, Spike was kicked by a deer and lost one of his eyes. But no one cared.

No one ever cares.

There’s no love in this world.

Life is pointless.

We all die someday.

-End-

Who's Your Daddy

Twilight Sparkle clears her throat from your doorway, then gives a gentle knock to let you know that she’s there. You’re writing at your desk, so initially you barely notice her at first, but the sound is enough to rouse you from your most recent erotic short story about a toothless alligator giving blowjobs.

“Oh, hey Twilight, what’s…”

You trail off as you see the look on her face. She’s staring at the floor of your room, not making eye contact with you, and her cheeks are flushed. Her eyes are unblinking and shimmering with moisture, and before long you see a dark streak of color against the pastel of her fur as a tear falls. Her shoulders are slumped, her wings sag. You can honestly say you’ve never seen her looking this sad. You honestly don’t even like her very much, but seeing her like this touches a special place in you. And it’s not your penis.

“Hey, hey what’s going on?” You say gently as you rise from your chair and walk across the room to console her.

She steps away, shaking her head, and sniffs loudly.

“Anon,” she says, her voice broken. “Something terrible has happened.”

You want to reach out and embrace her, soothe whatever is troubling her so, but she’s too distraught, too upset, and she shies away from your touch. So, instead, you kneel in front of her, just trying to make eye contact. Again, she turns away.

“What is it Twi?” you ask. “Surely it can’t be as bad as all that.”

She shakes her head again, more vigorously this time.

“No, it’s bad. You see, I’ve been…feeling weird for a while now. Feeling sick, dizzy, mood swings, aggravated.”

“I know, Spike can really be that horrible. And his cooking lately? Ugh.”

“No, it’s not that. Well, all that’s true, but that’s besides the point. You see…” Here she cuts off briefly, swallows hard, and takes a deep breath as if to regain her composure. Whens he looks up at you, though, she still looks like she’s about to burst into tears.

“Anon… we’re… we’re pregnant.”

It takes a few moments for the words to sink in. What does she mean? We’re? We? Pregnant, does that mean that… You stagger back against the wall of your bedroom as the news strikes you like a punch.

“P-pregnant?” you stutter out. “And it’s mine?”

She nods and looks away from you. She’s not kidding. She really means this!

All of a sudden, your mouth and body springs into motion. You rush forward and grab Twilight around the neck in a comforting hug. You’re nearly in tears, just from the emotion of it all.

“Oh Twi, don’t you even worry. I know we weren’t expecting this, I know maybe we weren’t there in our relationship, but we’ll make this work. I can get a job on Applejack’s farm, I’ll learn how to change diapers from Pinkie, I will be there for you every step of the way, you’ll never be alone. I’m going to be the best father ever, you’ll see, I’ll always make sure to…”

Suddenly, your brain catches up with your mouth, and you freeze mid sentence. You very slowly pull back from Twilight, then step away, studying her face. Your eyes narrow. Your lips set firm in a silent “hmmm.”

“Twilight,” you say calmly.

“Y-yeah?”

“We never had sex.”

There’s a strange, strained silence between you as you just gaze at one another.

“Well… so… here’s the thing,” Twilight say haltingly. You can now see her tears are gone. “I may have… sort of… kind of…”

“Twilight if you say you raped me, I swear to fucking god…”

“No, no, nothing like that,” She says with a hasty shake of her head. “It was late one night and I’d drugged you with more ketamine than usual, so you were really well and unconscious. And I was checking muscle impulses through electrocution, making you hit yourself in the face and stuff, and I suddenly wondered what would happen if I electrocuted your… you know…”

“Ah, so that’s why it smelled like bacon in my PJs for one morning last month.”

“Yes, exactly. Anyway, I found some interesting data, mostly involving the fact that a simultaneous electrocution to your testicles and underside of the head causes spontaneous ejaculation. Or, you know, maybe you’re just subconsciously into that. Was never quite sure. Well, I didn’t want any potential specimens to go to waste, just in case I wanted to try to impregnate Spike with a human embryo one day, so I saved a test tube of your… fluids.”

You pause, close your eyes, and take a deep breath in, then out, as you try to fathom all this. Honestly, you know you should come to expect all this by now, but it still sometimes makes you feel less faith in the actual concept of goodness.

“Okay,” you say slowly. “That explains… well almost nothing, but how did you get pregnant.”

Here, Twilight blushes a deep shade of pink.

“Um… well… it can get lonely in the lab sometimes, and I was down there one night for longer than I expected, and I sometimes like to… you know, use beakers and test tubes to put into places. That lip and the rubber of the cork just always-”

“I get the picture.”

“Right. I guess I grabbed a full test tube by mistake, and I didn’t realize that the cork had come out inside until it was way too late! And now… now…”

She rushes forward and collapses against you, voice trembling with tears.

“Oh Anon, did you really mean all those wonderful things you said about being a father?”

You resist the urge to falcon punch the princess in the stomach, and instead stand there, letting her weep for a moment. Then, wordlessly, you step away from Twilight so quickly she almost falls flat on the ground. After giving her a long, hollow look, you turn towards the door to your bedroom.

“Twilight?”

“Y-yes?”

“…I regret to tell you that you shouldn't expect to collect any child support payments from me.”

“What?” she says, voice a little indignant. “Why not?”

“Because you can’t collect child support from someone who’s already dead.”

And with that, you set out to find some rope that you hope will support your weight.

-END-

Author's Note

I wrote this on a plane, with someone sitting next to me. I am 60% sure they read part of it. I have no regrets.

Just Blowing Bubbles

You sit in the tub and stare down at your toes where they bob just above the waterline. The water's beginning to get a little cold now, but you're reluctant to budge. It still makes you tingle all over, makes your muscles completely relax. Only here can you truly be alone and truly be safe. Only here can you feel peace, quiet, and a sense of calm from your own inner turmoils. Only in this bathroom, in this bathtub, can you forget that you're here in Ponyville. Beyond that bathroom door might as well be your own bedroom, your apartment back on earth. It's a somewhat nice fantasy, even if it is short lived.

As if somehow the world knows that you're enjoying being at peace, the silence of the bathroom is abruptly shattered by a knock on the door. You let out a groan, trying to drown out the voice that echoes to you from the other side.

"Anoooooon," Twilight whines. "Are you coming out yet? You've been in there like half an hour!"

"No. Fuck off," you growl out.

You sink down into the tub so that your mouth is just beneath the surface. You blow bubbles out your nose and mouth so they make a light foam around your face, and in your head you make believe that you are a grumpy hippo. Because at least if you were a grumpy hippo this damned pony would leave you alone.

"But Anoooooon," she whines again. "I have to peeeeee. How long does it take for humans to poop anyway? Jeeze."

You glare at the door and resurface just enough to speak. You spit a long thin stream of bath water in the door's direction between your teeth.

"I'm not pooping, I'm in the bath. And besides, can't you just pee outside? You're a horse."

"But Anoooooooon..."

"I said no. Hold it or go outside."

"But princesses don't pee outside, and it's cold, and besides, this is my castle, and most importantly..."

You dunk your head down all the way under the water, holding your breath. You shut your eyes and wait, hoping the water all around you will muffle her voice enough for you to again forget what's on the other side of that door. Maybe, underwater, you can hear no one scream. Unfortunately, it just makes her difficult to understand, rather than making her totally inaudible. You let loose a small stream of bubbles and open your eyes, watching as each one pops in front of you. If only your problems could be gone that easily, just in one little pop. Before long, you're out of air and you have to resurface. As you do, you find that she's somehow still talking.

"...and you really REALLY shouldn't be doing it, because I don't even know what that would do to human anatomy to be honest, and also-"

"I SAID NO!" You scream out. "SO FUCK RIGHT Owait what are you saying I shouldn't be doing?"

You already feel the tightening of apprehension in your throat before she even replies.

"Didn't you hear what I said at all? Dear Celestia, we really need to work on your listening skills. Anyway, I was saying that you shouldn't be in that tub in the first place, because it's not for bathing."

"...i-it's not?"

"Nope!" she says brightly from the other side of the door. "That faucet is a mainline to all the byproducts from my experiments downstairs. All you'll get out of that is magical coolant, chemicals, and I'm pretty sure some form of nuclear waste."

You stare down in horror at the bath around you. No wonder your skin was starting to tingle.

"WHY do you have that going to a tub in my bathroom!" You shriek at the top of your lungs.

"Because if I didn't, it'd get all over the floor, silly!" she says with a giggle.

You had it in your mouth! It got in your eyes! Dear god, you've seen her spells and experiments before, just imagine what the byproducts could do to you! With a girlish scream you leap out of the tub, then run, naked, shrieking out of the bathroom.

"DISINFECT!" you cry. "I MUST GET TO THE EYEWASH STATION!"

Twilight watches you round the corner of the hall, leaving a damp trail behind your bare ass, then smiles to herself. She shakes her head as she walks into the bathroom and pulls the door shut behind her.

"I'd knew that'd get him out of here," she says with a sigh as she settles herself onto the toilet.

-END-

Author's Note

...I really need a bath.

The Naked Truth

"Anon," Twilight asks with a tilt of her head, "Why do you wear clothes?”

It’s an unexpected question, and for a moment you’re not quite sure how to handle it. You just stare at her over the breakfast table, trying to put together why she might ask something like this, then decide it’s probably just curiosity, nothing sinister for a change. You give a shrug and go back to reading the morning paper.

“Same reason anyone else wears clothes I guess,” you say with a shrug. “Rarity wears clothes, lots of ponies wear clothes.”

“Well, yes,” Twilight says haltingly. “But that’s for fashion and your clothes aren’t exactly…”

You lower your paper a little.

“Aren’t exactly what?”

“That is to say…”

“Yes?”

She pauses and rubs her chin thoughtfully.

“Well, I guess Rarity would call them hobo chic.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I don’t see how it possibly could be.”

You look down at the ratty jeans and shirt you’re wearing appraisingly. Hey, those rips in the knees are something that designers actually go for back on earth! It’s that worn in look, it’s absolutely fashionable! And that hole in your shirt? Barely noticeable, it’s like a beauty mark, only for clothes rather than your face, and it doesn’t make you look like a french whore.

“Well, I think they’re fine,” you say, a little bruskly.

“Okay, your horrible fashion sense aside,” Twilight says with a wave of her hoof, “I still don’t get why you wear them. It’s warm, so it can’t be for the weather. They don’t hold any sentimental value, and it's been really hot recently to be honest… so, why would you choose to wear those things?”

“Because I just like them.”

“Do you not even know why you wear them?”

Your cheeks flush. Okay, now this line of questioning feels a little more menacing.

“Th-that’s not it,” you stutter.

“Okay, then give me one good reason.”

“Nah, that’s okay.”

“Anon, you’ve got nothing.”

“But-”

“Just one good reason and I’ll-”

“Because I don’t want to be naked!” you suddenly blurt out.

Silence falls across the breakfast table. Your fingernails tear into the newspaper with how tightly you’re clutching it. Twilight stares into your face, which you can still feel is hot and flushed. She blinks a few times as you look back, unable to turn your head away from her horrified expression. You’re not sure why this moment feels so awkward, but it also feels like you’re stuck in it for an eternity.

“W-what?” Twilight finally says.

“You heard me. You may not be the princess of hearing things, I know, but you’re not deaf.”

“I did but…” she says, then sputters a moment as if she cant think of what to say. “But what do you mean you don’t want to be naked?”

You roll your eyes.

“I mean exactly that. Without clothes you’re naked, and I don’t want to walk around everywhere naked all the time, so thus I wear clothes.”

“But, that’s not… that’s… is that really how humans see nudity? That, if you’re not wearing clothes you’re naked?!”

“Well of course, how do you see…”

You trail off as you notice a low blush spreading over Twilight’s face. The rest of her seems to be going pale, but a deep rosy glow begins to creep across her cheeks, nose, and forehead. She also seems to be trembling a little, and her mouth is a little agape, like she’s forgotten to close it.

“Uh… Twilight?”

“S-so… y-you mean… th-that means that the whole time… y-you’ve been living with me, I’ve… I’ve been…”

Her hooves begin to creep up her body towards her chest, and she looks down at herself. By natural instinct, your eyes follow her gaze and you stare down at the tuft off fluff below her throat, and at her trembling hooves. As you glance back up, she locks eyes with you, and there is a moment of perfect, piercing silence.

Then, she begins to scream.

“AAAAAH! DON’T LOOK AT ME! YOU FUCKING PERVERT HOW DARE YOU!”

“Wait, what? Twilight what-”

You’d say more, but a hoof quickly crosses your cheek, silencing you with a slap that feels more like a punch. Damn those clunky horse hooves.

“GET AWAY FROM ME YOU PEEPING TOM! HELP, HELP! ANON IS TRYING TO LOOK AT ME WHILE I’M NAKED!” Twilight continues to wail.

“What the actual fuck are you-”

Another slap as Twilight climbs quickly to her feet and rushes at you, hooves flailing.

“GET OUT! GET OUT YOU PERVERT!!!”

“Fucking stop, you psycho!”

“YOU JERK, YOU DEVIANT! OUT! OUTTT!!!!”

Before you can do much to stop her, she’s pushed you to the door of the castle. She pauses just long enough to give you a wide-eyed, desperate, and decidedly violent look.

“GIVE ME YOUR CLOTHES!”

“What?! Why?!”

“Because I’m a lady and you should be a gentleman and help me cover myself, and because you saw quite a peep show all these years.”

“Hold on. That doesn’t make any se-”

“AAAAAAH ANON IS TRYING TO VIOLATE MY PERSONAL SPACE AND PEER INTO MY MOST PERSONAL OF CREVICES! HE’S TRYING TO GLIMPSE MY GORGEOUS GASH! AAAAAAH!”

Yet again, before you can do anything, Twilight’s magic grips your clothes and rips them off of you. As you reach down to shield your own dangly bits from sight, the door behind you opens and you’re flung backwards out into the street, landing with a thud on your bare ass. Twilight glares at you sourly, then slams the door, leaving you outside in the buff.

You’re still trying to get your head back on straight as you rise to your feet and glance around. You can tell your face is flushed, and you can feel how utterly naked you are. Surely, someone will come yell at you some more any minute now! There are ponies near you, but they barely seem to glance at you, just going about their business. It’s like nothing is weird about you being nude. Something inside you begins to relax a little. Maybe being naked around here won’t be so bad. Maybe Twilight was right, and you don’t need clothing anymore in this strange new land. In fact, you’re beginning to feel like you might be more comfortable this way. It's nice, and breezy, and unless you try to cook bacon, it's terribly convenient. Yes, you decide with a nod, nothing could make this weird.

“Oh hey Anon,” Spike says as he passes. “Nice penis.”

You stare after him with a grimace as he goes whistling on his merry way. Okay. Now it’s weird. Why does Spike always ruin everything?

-END-

Author's Note

Mine is often a clothing-optional household. It stopped being weird long ago.
But yeah, don't cook bacon naked.
-Pencil

Voicing Concerns

You lie awake in bed, hoping that sleep will finally come and take you away from this wretched consciousness. Your eyes feel crusty at the edges with lack of sleep and watering, but they stubbornly refuse to stay closed. So you simply lie there in bed, hands crossed over your stomach as if you're some kind of religious corpse, and stare upwards, waiting.

Sleep didn't used to be this difficult, you note. You used to sleep like a baby back on earth, just napping and dreaming away whenever you felt a little tired. In fact, when you first got to Equestria, you were pretty fucking great at napping. You and Rainbow Dash used to have nap-offs, which just involved in the pair of you platonically sleeping through the day. Fluttershy had blushed when you told her that you'd slept with Rainbow Dash, and when you'd stressed the word 'platonic,' she'd turned an even deeper shade of red. Clearly, she either didn't know what platonic meant, or platonic naps were her fetish or something. Either way, all that changed when you moved in with Twilight.

At first, resting was just a little uneasy, but you attributed that to late night indigestion caused by Spike's lousy cooking. Now, however, you're sure that it's not that. After all, you stopped eating Spike's cooking long ago, ever since you found out what his special salad dressing was really made with. Instead, you've found that you can't fully turn your brain off.

Whenever you would try to sleep, you'd suddenly feel this horrible nagging voice in the black of your mind. As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you could hear those horrible, evil little voices that everyone has, saying bad things about you. Sometimes they'd demoralize you in general, tell you what a terrible person you were. Other times it would be specific, targeting a specific action or word, telling you how much you could have done better. Perhaps the worst ones were when the voice, a little louder than usual, would tell you that people hated you, that you were a nuisance, and that no one could possibly love you or want you in their lives. Even though that prospect was the most extreme, it was always the hardest to silent.

Recently, you've found that you dread going to sleep. You know that the moment you shut your eyes, you'll start to hear that whisper getting louder, more direct with its attacks. As you go fully unconscious, it always hisses inside you, viscous, like someone pouring syrup into your head. Yes, that metaphor didn't really make any sense, but you haven't been sleeping well, so whatever. Go try it in a poetry class, see if your professor thinks it's 'profound.' Anyway, you hear the voice in dreams, and it's mean and stuff. It gives you nightmares. You're scared to go to sleep. You get the idea.

Tonight, as you feel your lids grow heavy, and they shut for the first time, that insidious whispering begins.

"Anon, do you think you really deserve to sleep?"

Your eyes shoot open, and the voice goes silent. But soon, you can't help it, and you shut them again.

"Anoooooon, you know better. You were a jerk to that friend of yours today, by the flower stand. You know she probably hates you now."

Once more, fully awake, eyes to the ceiling. A few more minutes past. Your lids droop.

"Of course, that's not much of a change. No one likes you. No one even wants you here. You're a constant drain on people who care about you."

Your eyes stay shut, too exhausted to open again as you grow even more drowsy. As usual, you try to fight back against the words in your head. No. You have friends. Rainbow, Fluttershy, hell, even Twilight thinks you're useful for the occasional experiment now and then. You're not hated by all.

"You're hated by all."

Gee, thanks self-doubt. Really needed that today. The voice goes on as you feel a tightness in your chest at the mere notion of everyone hating you. You can't even muster enough mental energy for a rebuttal.

"Everyone is too polite to tell you to leave. But they want you to. They want you to leave and never return. You're such an annoyance. And you always leave the seat up in the bathroom. So thoughtless for others."

No, that's not... hey, wait. You've been leaving the seat up on purpose, because you love the squawk of indignation that echoes through the castle when Twilight doesn't look before she sits. You don't feel bad about that, do you? What is this voice even doing today? You shake your head hard.

"Yessssss, you should feel bad about that. It's a terrible habit. You're a horrible house guest."

Something's not right here. You shake your head hard, trying to will your eyes to open, and at last they do... to reveal that you are nose-to-nose with Twilight motherfucking Sparkle.

She emits a little gasp, then a slow, sheepish smile creeps onto her face. You stare at her, your sleep-deprived mind trying to figure out what exactly is happening here. Twilight, meanwhile, pulls her chin off the pillow beside your ear, where she had obviously been resting.

"Oh, uh, hi Anon," she says brightly. "Just, uh... checking for ear spiders! Can't be too careful, it is egg-laying season after all!"

"Twilight," you mutter. "What are you talking about, I already sprayed the spider repellent in both ears tonight, what..."

Then it hits you. Your eyes slowly widen. The voice. In your head. Damn it all, you always wondered why your inner self doubt had a female voice! You always figured it was something weirdly freudian, but were always too scared to analyze it too hard. Your jaw drops open as Twilight takes another step back, her grin widening as she sees recognition dawn in your eyes. How long has she been doing this? How was she able to do it so stealthily every fucking night? How does she know so much about your daily life and personal insecurities? You have so many questions, but only one manages to escape your lips.

"Twilight," you wheeze. "W-why?"

She stares at you and just continues to back away. She pauses, very briefly in the doorway, and at last her smile wavers, and she narrows her eyes at you, just a little. Then, she heaves a heavy sigh and turns away.

"Just start putting the damn seat down when you're done. Okay?"

Without waiting for an answer, she slams the door behind her. Welp, one thing is for sure. There's not even a whisper of a chance you're getting any sleep tonight.

-END-

Author's Note

Don't let the voices in your head get you down. Even when someone has, in fact, done something shitty. You don't need those voices' reverse pep-talks. Instead, try this on for size:
I love you.
I'm sorry.

-Pencil :heart:

The Glue That Holds Us Together

For the first time in a while, you're alone in the crystal castle, and Twilight is leaving you be. Usually at this point, she's pestering you to help with something, screaming something about friendship and magic, or even just trying to use you for experiments. Today, however, she's busy with some friendship problem elsewhere. Last you heard, the Yaks got crabs, and one of them passed it to a pony and well... now it's this whole big STD international incident. Either way, it's granted you a bit of peace, and you know just what to do with it.

Now that Twilight is a princess, it seems that she's become a bit of an icon. This has lead to stories and songs being written for her, food being named after her, and even toys made of her. This is where things have gotten interesting for you. Right away you went out and purchased a tiny figurine of Twilight, standing coyly with her weight on one hip. She's looking up at you with these large, full bedroom eyes, and smiling a gentle, inviting smile. It's everything you never knew you wanted, and it was worth every bit.

Now, all that remains is the obvious. You take it home, put it on a table with some good lighting, admire the craftsmanship... and then cum all over it. I mean. Who wouldn't want to do that?

As you set out the figurine, making sweet eye contact with its artificial plastic orbs, you breathe a heavy sigh of anticipation. This has been a long time coming. You always knew Twilight would take your seed one way or the other, and today is the day. You can't help the powerful, satisfied, predatory grin that spreads across your lips as you unzip your pants and slowly unsheathe your dick. You reach for your already pulsing shaft...

The door to your bedroom bursts open with bang.

"Hey Anon! False alarm, turns out they were just lice and not crabs. An itchy situation, sure but not a..."

Twilight's words die in her throat as she spots first you, then your exposed penis, then the figurine of her standing provocatively in front of you. You follow her gaze, and now it seems that the figure is leering up at you tauntingly, laughing at your misfortune in an almost domme way. Stupid sexy Twilight toy. Really, you ought to say something to ease the tension quickly growing in the room before the proverbial balloon bursts. Quick, say something! Anything!

"Uh... I didn't think you'd be here today..." you say in a cracking voice.

Well, that was the wrong move, good job. The silence bursts.

"Anon, what in Celestia's irreverent pagan name are you doing?!" Twilight shrieks.

"Uh..."

"Is... i-is that me!?"

"Uh..."

"Why is your reproductive organ exposed?! What were you going to do?"

"Uh..."

Twilight says something else unintelligible, that sounds like a jumble of many questions all at once. Her face is flushed, her expression panicked. You have to try to do something to explain yourself now, or things could get pretty bad. Last time you freaked her out this much she removed your frontal lobe for "cleaning." You still don't remember what happened, but ever since then you've always smelled the lingering scent of Lysol whenever you breathe.

Gradually, you put away your quickly-shriveling dick, and hold up your hands in front of you in a defensive gesture.

"Okay," you say, keeping your tone even. "Easy now Twilight, I can explain."

"Then I suggest you do this instant!" she screams at you.

Fuck, you didn't get this far. How do you even explain something like this? You've made up your mind to just offer her another "uh" when suddenly your mouth starts working before your brain can stop it. And oh boy, does it have a lot to say.

"Look, I went to get a figurine for personal use and at first I thought about getting the Spike one because it was so cheap but who the fuck wants a Spike figurine oh well maybe as a dogs chew toy or something anyway I liked the Twilight one and I thought I'd come home and put give it some "hot glue" you know because it's well... hot and back home people make hot glue videos with figurines because people think it's sexy and I've done it with other characters before but I always wanted to try it with a pony specifically you so I was doing that and then you came home and I'm sorry please don't take my brain out again!"

You're pretty certain you didn't breathe more than once during that whole tirade. Twilight stands there, mouth open, staring at you in absolute shock. You quickly realize, as your face flushes, that you've said way too much and there's no way you can take it back now. You stare at your feet, wondering why you got out of bed today, why you were born at all, why you haven't just killed yourself by now and ended it all. You swallow hard, and interject once more before Twilight can speak. You can't make this better, but maybe you can give some context.

"Uh, to be clear, when I say hot glue, I mean-"

"I know what hot glue is," Twilight says softly, her tone calm.

You look up at her to find that her eyes are closed. As she opens them again, slowly, they're shining and provocative. Just like on that figurine you got.

"Actually," she says softly, and now you can hear a certain allure behind her words. "I think hot glue is sexy too."

You blink at her.

"What, what? You mean you... you like the idea of a guy taking his dick and..."

She nods vigorously.

"Oh, definitely," she says, practically moaning with desire as she speaks. "I've done stuff like that in private, even watched ponies do it before. But I've never gotten someone to, well... try it with. I mean, hot glueing a toy is all well and good, but... I don't suppose you'd be willing to try it with me instead? I can set it all up, get you started all you have to do is provide, well... that."

She glances at your crotch, and you can now see that your penis is again betraying you by bulging at the front of your pants. Stupid sexy non-toy Twilight. When you look back up, she's approaching you, batting her eyes seductively, her rear swaying behind her.

"What do you say?" she breathily whispers, trailing one hoof up the inside of your thigh. The feeling of it sends pins and needles through your entire leg.

You assess briefly. Twilight is into hot glue, but would prefer to have it done to her than to a toy. This could be a facial situation, this could be somethink she likes done to her cutie mark, just not the mane. You never get cum in the hair, that's rude. Either way, do you really want to do this with your roommate? You've meant to for a long time now, but it's just never happened, you've always been afraid of her waking up as you jacked it over her sleeping body like an anime boy who refuses to get in the damn robot. She's asking you to. Is there a downside here? What about your friendship?

The bitch once tried to bite your dick off. Yeah, no worries on ruining a friendship here.

You swallow once more and nod.

"Yeah. Yeah I'd really like that," you try not to wheeze out as her hoof nears your cock. "Do you want me to... should I just..."

She holds up a hoof for silence, and you quickly shut your mouth in obedience.

"Wait right here. Let me put my mane up, don't want it getting in the way."

Hot, it'll be just like that limited edition babysitter teen twilight fig you saw advertised and put a pre-order on! Before you can tell her this and reveal your true power level, she turns and sways out of the room.

Instantly, you spring into action. You practically leap out of your pants and underwear, and snatch the fig off the table. You consider throwing it hastily away across the room, but instead take it and set it down carefully on a shelf, because come on, that thing is a high quality investment. You try posing yourself in the middle of the room for her return, then on the bed, then like one of your French girls, and at last just sit down as you're most comfortable, so you don't put unnecessary strain on your legs while you're jackin' it.

At last, Twilight re-enters, hair pulled up to reveal two blushing cheeks. She giggles lightly as she sees your naked form, then saunters your way and looks up at you with gleaming eyes.

"I'm all warmed up," she practically purrs. "Seems you're ready too."

"Yeah," you breathe.

You reach down to your dick to begin stroking, but Twilight stops you.

"Here, let me get it started for you," she murmurs, then turns her attention to your erect cock with a smile.

You watch, breathing heavily, as she lowers her head and hooves towards your dick. Hell, at this rate, she might get you off on her own without you having to move a muscle! If she just pushes right there and there, and maybe if she uses her tongue a little, maybe she could...

Wait, what's in her hoof? It doesn't look like lube, it couldn't be...

Before you can react, before you can fully understand what's going on, Twilight squeezes the trigger of the light violet hot glue gun, sending a stream of clear, molten glue, right onto your dick, right below the head. Your body freezes in the shock of the pain, as she moves towards the base, leaving a winding path of scalding glue in her wake. Then, all you can hear is screaming, and it takes you a moment to realize it's your own.

"AAAAAAH WHAT THE FUCK TWILIGHT WHAT DID YOU AAAAAAAAAAAH WHAT IS THIS WHAT THE FUCK YOU DUMB FUCKING AAAAAHHHHH!" you wail out to the empty castle.

Twilight frowns at you, or at least you thing she does. Your eyes are watering too hard for you to be quite sure.

"Oh don't be such a baby," she croons. "There's almost enough on there. Gotta be quick before it gets too cool."

Enough on there for what?! What is she...?

You reach down to try to stop the stream of burning glue frying the skin off your dick, but before you can reach the gun, she abruptly stops. With an infatuated moan, Twilight hops up and plants her pussy right on the area where she placed the hot glue. The added pressure, pain, and sudden friction on your scalded dick is enough to let loose a new round of shrieking. Beneath it, you can hear Twilight moan.

"Mnhhhh yes, so hot, so sticky, so crafty, mnnnnnnnh god I want to add sequins to it, make your project and my project become one! Gnnnnh yes!"

"YOU STUPID KINKY FUCK HORSE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

"Hush, you said you wanted to do this," she says reproachfully.

"THIS IS EXCRUCIATING!"

"Oh come on, I put hot glue on my clit all the time, it's positively electric."

Through your pain-addled mind, you take in that this means Twilight pleasures herself with hot glue. She's into hot glue, literally. Of course she is. Of course. You should have guessed that, it was obvious, you know how this goes by now and you should have known better. You just should have masturbated on the figurine like the pathetic loser with no friends that you are. This is your own fault. But more self hatred another time, there are more pressing matters. If you don't get Twilight off of you NOW, you're going to end up with her pussy stuck to the shaft of your dick. And not at all in the fun way.

"GET OFF YOU STUPID CUNT!" You cry.

"I'm trying, just give me a minute."

"NO! GET OFF OF ME RIGHT NOW!

"Anon, wait, if you do that it'll..."

Twilight's warning comes too late, as does your attempt to remove her. You throw her backwards off of you, feeling at first tension against the glue on your penis, then something much, much sharper. There is a horrifying ripping noise, like the sound of someone pulling duct-tape off of a stray puppy. Your vision goes white, sound deadens itself in your ears, and you feel a wet, painful cold on your cock, where there was once skin. Then, the screaming commences, and even though you can't hear it over the pain, you can feel it burning in your lungs, like the heating element of a hot glue gun.

You fall to the floor, clutching your opened package, and begin thrashing in agony. Twilight simply looks down at you and sighs.

"Damn, I guess we should have tried wood or fabric glue as a test run. Ah well, you know what they say, Anon," she says wistfully. "If you can't stand the heat... don't put hot glue on your dick!"

-END-

Author's Note

For those who don't know, here is a description of a "hot glue" video.
I hope you learned something new today.
https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Hot+glue

Also, sorry if you saw my cliffnotes version at the top when you started reading. I pasted when I should have copied. It's fixed now.

Morning Glory

You wake up slowly, in that beautiful way that happens when your body decides to be conscious before any alarm or sunlight orders it to. You feel well rested, relaxed in ways you never thought you would again, given where you live now. As your eyes slide open, you find yourself smiling, at peace, breathing in and out a steady sigh of a man who is glad to greet another day.

"Good morning," you say to yourself, since no one will do it for you.

"Good morning," a quiet, hissing, feminine voice says back.

OKAY good feelings gone!

You frantically leap upright, taking a moment to shove a hasty pillow in front of your morning wood, and scan the room to try to find the source of the sound. You have little doubt who it could be. Sure enough, after only a moment, Twilight's horn begins to glow, illuminating her where she sits in the corner of your room. She's reclining in one of your chairs, tipping it back onto it's two back legs the way you used to do in class that got your teachers yelling at you so much. You remember one of them came over and whacked you on the back of the head for it, and you'd fallen down and got a very good look up her skirt. Would have been hot, except she was like sixty. Even then, your teenage brain liked to bring it up at the most inopportune times, like at Thanksgiving dinner, or when you're trying to masturbate. The distressed pounding of panic in your blood and chest begins to subside a little.

"Jesus fucking christ, Twilight. What are you doing in my room?"

She gives a huffing little laugh, and lets the chair fall down heavily to all four legs with a clattering thud.

"Technically it's my room. This whole castle is mine. Everything in it is mine."

For some reason, you feel a little cheeky today. You give her a cocky smile.

"Why Twilight, are you saying you want me to be yours too?"

She fixes you with a poignant, disapproving glare.

"You know better," she says in a scoff. "Besides, I'm pretty sure I've removed enough of your non-vital organs for scientific research at this point that a good ten percent of you really is mine."

Damn, so that's where your appendix went. You'd thought it finally rejected you and left. Like everyone always does.

"That still doesn't answer what you're doing in my room," you say, trying to fight back the relieved tears of realizing you weren't dumped by your own organs.

"Well," Twilight says, in an odd sing-song kind of way. "I just wanted to come and give you a piece of advice."

"Advise away, and then please get out."

She gives you a tight little smile.

"If you get up past noon one more time, I'm going to have to start waking you up myself. And it won't be pretty."

You blink. It's past noon? Hell, you knew you felt well rested, and it's true that you've been getting up later and later, because what job? What friends? What reason to get out of bed and even be alive in the first place? But you didn't realize it had gotten so late.

"Why do you even care?" you grumble. "What's wrong with waking up after noon?"

"I hear you snoring and talking in your sleep when I'm trying to work downstairs."

"It's not my fault your 'crystal' castle has walls that seem like they're made of cardboard. Do you know I can hear it every time Spike masturbates? He cries afterwards, thought you should probably be aware of that."

"I don't care. About any of that," she snaps. "Just get up before noon, or you'll regret it."

And with that, she turns from the room and trots out. She shoots you one final, warning glance as she exits, then slams your bedroom door behind her. You roll your eyes at this new annoyance. So what, you're not even allowed to sleep late now? Absolutely bullshit, you'll sleep as long as you want. Waking up to your own circadian rhythm rules. Besides, what's the worst she can do?

~*~

As you drift in and our of consciousness, you enjoy the feeling of sleep pulling you back towards the void of dreams, and the waking world gently alerting you to the sunlight coming through your window. Your muscles are at rest, your mind is relaxed, your body feels light and cozy around your psyche. All is as it should be. All is right with the-

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

You sit bolt upright at the sound of a baby wailing right next to your ear. Your eyes can't adjust fast enough, your body can't respond fast enough. You just know there's the sound of a screaming, crying baby right by your head, for no good reason.

"WHAT THE SHIT!" you scream, as you try to make your eyes focus and pinpoint the source of the demonic noise.

You barely have time to take in the sight of Flurry Heart being hovered next to your face, mouth open, screaming. Snot worms its way down her fuzzy upper lip, and her cheeks glow with the red of a child who screams and cries without knowing the misery life can truly inflict on you. You barely have time to notice Twilight standing not far behind her, levitating the little creature just inches from your cheek. You have just enough time to remember Twilight's warning, that you'd regret waking up after noon, that you'd regret blowing her off. You take all of that in in a split second, just barely in time. Then the kid's eyes bulge, and she vomits off-green baby puke onto the side of your face.

You let out a cry of anguish as you try to scramble back away off the bed from the dribbling-mouthed child, swiping in horror at your vomit-soaked cheek. This is not how you wanted to wake up, this is not at all what you thought might happen. You were happy as you slept, as you rarely are, and now? Your PJs are probably permanently stained, your room reeks of strained peas. At least your morning wood is gone, so you now you don't have emetophilia. All you can do is make distressed, guttural noises, as you look from the whimpering child to the now broadly smiling Twilight.

"Now," she says softly. "If you get up after noon, at any point, I'm going to do this again. You will wake up to a baby screaming into your ear, vomiting on you, maybe even urinating or defecating on you. And it will not stop, I will take no excuses. Is that perfectly clear?"

You stammer at her. Never mind how she got the baby here, never mind why she chose a baby of all things as your new alarm clock. Never mind how she knew the kid was going to puke, she probably fed it ipecac or something. There's only one real question in your mind, only one thing you can ask.

"W-why?" you stammer out.

Twilight smiles simply, then turns to take Flurry Heart back out of your room.

"Oh come now, Anon, when has anyone ever needed a reason for making you miserable?" she croons as she passes you. "You and I both know you don't deserve any happiness. I'm just trying to keep the natural order of things. You understand."

You watch as she pauses at the door to throw you a final, cheery smile.

"See you in the morning," she sings out, then closes the door behind her and leaves you all alone.

Like you always are.

Author's Note

...well that got darker than I meant it to.
Uh. Er. Enjoy?

-Pencil

Twilight's Holiday Spectacular

~*~

"Anon!" Twilight barks at you. "I require your assistance!"

Upon hearing these fated words, you resist the urge to get up from where you're sitting and reading, and run shrieking from the castle. Twilight needing your help is never a good thing, and as much as you're enjoying reading about Daring Doo getting banged by a timber wolf in this "fan novel" Rainbow Dash got you, your exploration of puns involving wood "knots" can wait. But you remind yourself, barely, that Twilight has been pretty cool lately. She locked Spike outside until he finally left, the little twerp, and she even made dinner last night. From what you can tell, she didn't put any strange chemicals in it in order to experiment on you. Well, at least you haven't noticed any side effects yet.

Maybe, just this once, you should give her a chance. You heave a very heavy sigh, shut the book, and look up at her.

"Okay, I'll bite," you say. "What do you need."

"I'm doing something special for Hearth's Warming this year," she says, straightening up a little. "Something for the kids, you know. So they'll like me again."

"You mean so their parents will trust you enough to allow them to come over so you can inject them with different magical substances again? After you turned that kid into sentient pond slime that one time..."

She waves you off with one flippant hoof and a glare.

"That's besides the point," she grumbles. "I'm a princess now, and the Hearth's Warming play has gotten... stale. I want to do something new and fun. A show. A special performance to get the children excited about the holidays again."

"Pretty sure that's what the gifts are for."

Her glare deepens.

"Look, will you help me or not?" she growls. "I just need help setting things up and maybe getting the foals into their seats. Can you just do that?"

Again, you give a weighty sigh.

"Fine, fine," you say with a shake of your head. "Just promise me that I won't have to, like, kidnap any ponies or sacrifice anyone to any elder gods or anything."

She wrinkles her nose.

"Good god, no, who would do such a thing."

You shrug and get up from your chair.

"I dunno, it just sounded like something you would do."

She considers this for a moment, then echoes your shrug with one of her own.

"Well, okay, that's fair, but that was old Twilight." She again puffs up her chest and smiles at you. "This is new Twilight, and new Twilight just wants what's best for everyone, and that starts with making this a special holiday for the children of Ponyville."

She pauses briefly, and glances away from you, almost shyly.

"I... am glad you're willing to give me a chance on this. It'll be a world of help."

For everything Twilight's done for, and to, you in the last few years, you can't help but feel a kind of sneaking affection for the little mare. She's crazy, there's no doubt, but you get the feeling that, as you look into her eyes, she's really trying this time. She really does want to help Ponyville. With a smile, you gently set your hand down on top of her head, and muss her mane a little, like she's your younger sister.

"Hey, that's what the holidays are for, right?" you say warmly. "I'm happy to give the gift of forgiveness and second chances."

"You're still getting me a Hearth's Warming present."

Damn it. You thought you had her there.

~*~

You adjust the rigging one more time, to be sure it's safe, before you at last stand back to enjoy your work. The stage is fairly small, but it's well set up. The lights are numerous and at the ready for Twilight's magic, and the set is covered with holly, pine branches, fake snow, and empty boxes wrapped like presents. Twilight has made sure that the whole production is beautiful looking, and even the stage itself has a massive bow on the top, like it's a gift. In a way, you suppose it really is.

"All set?" Twilight says as she approaches you.

"Yeah, and the stands are already filling with foals. I don't see any of their parents coming over to hang out and see the show though."

You glance out over the sea of tiny smiling faces, looking for any adults, but Twilight just gives a little laugh in response.

"Are you kidding? They have a place to drop off their squealing brats for a half hour, and finally have some peace and quiet, and you're surprised that they didn't want to stick around?"

"Twilight, that's not very festive of you to say."

She groans and massages one of her temples with her hoof.

"You're right, you're right, sorry," she takes a few deep breaths. "New Twilight time. It's my chance to really make a difference here."

She straightens up and looks over the stage, then gives a nod of approval. You too know the routine that is about to take place. You'll go welcome the kids and sing a little "Silver Bells" with a few of the words replaced to make it more... pony-like. They'll laugh at you, because you can't sing, but you're used to people laughing at you whenever you put effort or care into anything, so what else is new? Then Twilight will introduce the show, a screen will come down, and you'll start the projector. There will be a light show, a cool holiday video Twilight made, and then at the end you'll both get up on stage and bow. She was very determined to make you get on stage with her in the end to take credit. To be honest, it's kind of sweet of her.

"You ready?" she asks.

"Yep," you say with a slowly-growing festive smile. "I've got this."

Your rendition of "Silver Bells" goes off about as you expected, with the children screaming out their whinnies and neighs of delight at your off-key tune. One of them even throws some form of rotten fruit at you, and it hits you squarely in the chest. But to be honest, you don't even care. Their smiles are enough you warm your heart, and to keep your nostrils from forcing you to puke from the scent of whatever that fruit is.

As you exit the stage, you give Twilight a wink, and she winks back at you. Then, you pull up a chair behind the curtain and kick back as she walks out to thunderous applause from the audience. You haven't seen this movie she made yet, but you know she put ina ton of effort, and you can hardly wait. At last, she quiets the foals.

"Fillies and Gentlecolts!" she says, sounding practically overjoyed. "I just want to welcome you to my hearth's warming spectacular! Today, you'll see just how you can help Ponyville be a better place to live, and find out what the holiday spirit has to do with all that. Are you ready?"

The crowd shrieks that they are.

"Okay, here we go!" Twilight crows.

She gives you a nod, and you flip the switch to the projector on cue. The screen lights up, and numbers pop up on the screen, counting down. Twilight exits the stage quickly as they do so, looking nervous and incredibly excited. She squeezes your shoulder as she turns to face the screen.

"This is it!" she hisses.

Two.

One.

All at once there is a loud, blaring, booming noise from all around the stage. The speakers drone out a low, almost subsonic burst, that continues on in a way that rattles parts of your eardrums without actually sounding like anything. You shut your eyes a moment, trying to gain equilibrium, and when you open them again, all the lights on the stage are flashing. Green, red, white, green red, white, in rapid succession. The screen too is flashing, quick images of things your brain barely has time to make out. As you squint, you begin to get the idea of what is being shown to the foals.

There's a pony, lying in a trench, obviously dead from some kind of magical burst to the chest. Then there's a scene of Canterlot castle on fire, burning. A cute bunny hopping through the grass. The word "FIGHT." A cackling shadow pony flying through the air. A severed hoof in the snow. A raised head clad in armor. A crying foal, alone in an alley. The words "PONIES ARE BEST." Flowers growing. Fireworks. A mushroom cloud.

All the while, you hear the low, blaring, warbling subsonic noise vibrating your very organs. As you listen closely, you realize it changes pitch just a little. It sounds like words, words you cannot quite hear, and a melody. Is... is that Winter Wrap Up?

Nevermind that now, though, there are foals being subjected to this! These scenes, these constantly flashing lights, this sound, none of this is okay! You jump up and try to flip off the projector, but it won't turn off. You rush to the edge of the curtain, but when you Glance out, you see that none of the foals are crying or running away. Instead, they all lie on the ground, twitching and convulsing. one is even foaming at the mouth. The colors, the sights, this reaction... you realize, all at once, that every last foal in the audience is having some sort of epileptic fit or seizure. And there can only be one reason for all of this.

With horror, you turn back towards Twilight to find her with headphones on, peeking out between the curtains. She's got a clipboard in hoof, and is hastily scribbling down notes on it. You feel a surge of anger and hurt rising in your chest.

Without any hesitation, you stride to the princess and spin her to face you.

"Twilight WHAT THE FUCK!" you scream at her, to be sure she can read your lips. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS! I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO HELP THIS YEAR!"

She looks utterly calm, not at all sheepish or ashamed. She studies your face then, all at once, just gives you a little shrug and gives you a look as if you're acting crazy.

"What? This is a good thing!" she yells over the horrible thundering noise.

"HOW IS THIS A GOOD THING!"

"Well, I set up this experiment to see if I could force ponies to go into a seizure with certain sights and sounds! Now, next time Equestria is attacked by changelings or shadow ponies or something, we can stop them with this! These kids are helping out all of Equestria!"

She smiles proudly up at you. You blink back at her, trying to understand how she got like this. what horrible thing happened to her in childhood to make her into this kind of crazy bitch? Was she dropped on her head? Was she abused? Did Celestia touch her no-no bits?

"Besides," she goes on, still grinning. "There are no lasting effects! they'll wake up when the video ends, no harm done! Okay, maybe a few will have a speech impediment, but nothing life threatening. See how much I've improved?"

You stand completely still, gripping her shoulders for a moment. Then, in one swift motion, you snatch off her headphones. As the noise meets her hears, you see her eyes dilate. Her form goes rigid, her mouth goes slack, and her body crumples to the floor where it starts thrashing and seizing like a middle aged white woman trying to dance at a holiday party. You leave her there, just lying on the ground amidst this wondrous "gift" she's given to Ponyville. You only give her one final glance as you make your way off the stage.

"Merry fucking Christmas, Twilight," you mutter.

Then, the turn your back on her and the whole ordeal, and point yourself towards the castle. With any luck, there's enough alcohol there that you can drink yourself unconscious for the rest of the holiday season.

-END-

Author's Note

Equine sidewalks, bullshit gift talks
Such fake holiday smiles
In the air there's a feeling of Fuck this.
Foals are laughing, ponies passing
Filling you up with bile
Making you want to puke when they're near

Festive hell (festive hell), festive hell (festive hell)
You want to die and it feels shitty
Suicide, (open wide)
Cyanide, (pills inside)
Soon your life will slip away...

Seriously though...
Happy holidays, and please do remember, that even if holidays really are hell for you (they are for a lot of us) the holidays do eventually end. And... if your family is shit and horrible and abusive to you, you are NOT required to go make nice with them and be all jolly and shit. I don't care if 'tis the season, you take care of you first because YOU matter. Hang in there, and don't hesitate to reach out to others for help and a hug if you need it. :heart:

-Pencil

A Piece Of Companionship

~*~

"Anon, would you come in here a moment?" you hear Twilight Sparkle call from her study.

You roll your eyes and let out a soft, wheezing groan in anticipation of all the horrible things that you know must inevitably wait in store for you. What will it be today? Does she want to use you to try out some mane-growing tonic? Does she want to tell you what's wrong with you and how to fix it, in the most verbally abusive way possible? You can't be sure, but you somehow know this won't go well for you.

You sigh and stand up from the kitchen table, where your breakfast will have to go half-finished. Spike eyes your plate hungrily, like a dog begging for scraps. Twilight doesn't seem to have fed him today, and the little urchin is always looking for any leftovers he can steal. You know he wouldn't be above grabbing these. You pause, glare at him, then, while making full unbroken eye contact with him, you lift the plate and walk to the sink. Never letting your eyes move from his own, you scrape the eggs and toast into the sink and down the drain, turn on the water, and run the garbage disposal. You can see any hope he had of getting a morning meal dissolve like so much toast crust in the pooling water.

With that, you shake off your hands, and make your way to where Twilight is waiting.

When you enter, you are briefly relieved to see no science equipment, no strange tools, no large magical beasts, and no strange fettishy clothing either. Instead, she sits there, one small book open in front of her. You can see it's full of sticky notes, and it looks like she's been perusing the volume for a long time. As she looks up at you, you can see dark circles under her eyes. Maybe she's been at this all night. More than that, she looks... serious. Earnest. Triumphant. It's definitely a potentially deadly combination.

"Uh... hey Twilight," you say, trying to sound casual. "What's up?"

She lets out a slow sigh and drops her gaze.

"Look, Anon," she says softly, sounding almost as if she's on the brink of tears. "I know things have been rough for you lately, and I think I know why."

"Oh?"

You brace for verbal assault.

"Yeah," she goes on. "It's because of me."

You both stand silently in the room for a moment, letting the words hang pointedly in the air around you. You're not sure what to say, how to respond to this. I mean, she's right? But you never expected her to come out and say this. Before you can form a coherent sentence in your head, she goes on.

"I've been very demanding of you, and I haven't offered you much friendship or companionship. I know I'm supposed to be the princess of friendship and all, but I prefer to look at it mechanically. Scientifically. It doesn't leave much room for me to get close to newcomers, and that means you. And that's not fair to you. And I'm sorry."

You're nearly left speechless again, but this time you do manage to stammer something out.

"W-well... wow Twilight, I... I didn't think you looked at it that way."

"I didn't before," she says sadly. "I do now. And I don't expect your forgiveness. At least not yet. But I've found a way I think I can make it up to you."

While this sounds nice, warning bells go off in your head. Here comes the part where she tries to inject you with something to make you more 'friendable.' Here's where she sews you two together so you'll be inseparable. Mentally prepping yourself for the trauma, you force yourself to ask the looming question.

"How?"

Here, she raises her head, and the faintest of hopeful smiles crosses her face.

"Anon, I'm going to help you make a friend. That's all. Just one. The rest will be up to you, okay? I know friendship takes time to build and grow."

Again, you're surprised by how not horrifying all this sounds. You're about to get hopeful, when you catch yourself.

"Wait a minute, what's the catch?" you say.

Twilight looks almost wounded.

"There's no catch."

"You don't need a blood sample from me for testing? You don't want me to babysit Spike in return?"

She shakes her head. When she looks back up at you, tears cling to the corners of her eyes.

"Really, Anon, I've done a lot of reading on all this. I've studied hard. And I think I can actually, really help you this time. And maybe, someday, you'll be able to forgive me for leaving you out in the cold so often. Please, just let me show you I can do this."

You find it impossible to say no to this. The truth is, you have been lonely, you have been craving companionship. And if she's offering a way to get that? And doing it without stabbing you or electrocuting you? That sounds pretty okay.

"Well... okay, I'll give it a shot, I guess?"

She brightens instantly.

"Wonderful! Thank you Anon, I won't let you down. Come with me!"

She snatches your hand and pulls you swiftly out of the study, down a stairway, and into a wide stone room at the base. You don't recognize the place, and as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you find you must be in a cellar of some kind. In it, you see barrels of strange substances, and there's a faint smell of... meat. The warning bells again sound in your head. You turn to find Twilight, standing by one wall, nose buried in the book, eyes flicking back and forth rapidly.

"Just a moment!" she calls. "I haven't done this spell before, so it'll be just a sec."

Spell?

Then your eyes adjust that much more, and you are able to read the title of the book. Your heart sinks, you open your mouth to call out to her to stop, but she's already muttering strange, archaic sounding words, and there is a sudden flash of light in the center of the room. It's too late.

You turn and watch as strange, meaty substances float out of the barrels towards the center of the room. Sparks fly as they join together, becoming a thrashing, undulating lump of pale human skin and flesh. Stubs protrude from three side, as if they should be limbs, and an opening forms, gaping and shutting like a fish taken out of the ocean. A strange howl erupts from inside it, as a pair of eyes open, one near the top of the mass, one much farther down. They roll wildly, then at last focus on you. The mouth stops gaping, and smiles. Instead of teeth, there are individual lumps of exposed muscle, all in a red and bleeding row. A hole opens lower than that, and you're pretty sure it's supposed to be a vagina, but it's impossible to say for certain. It slowly lowers to the ground, one giant foot forming at the base, with a little nub beside it helping it balance. It heaves a final moan, then the glowing and sparks cease. You stare at it, and it stares back, all the way down into the depths of you unrepentant soul.

"Yes!" Twilight crows. "Not bad for a first attempt at a human, I'd say. I mean, I got at least one foot on there, and that's pretty much a human face, right?"

You turn to look at Twilight in un-muted horror. She shuts the book titled "Flesh Golems" and turns a beaming smile to you.

"Normally I'd give it another try to make it closer to you, but I did promise I'd help make one friend only, and that the rest would be up to you. I am a mare of my word and-"

"What have you done?" you half whisper, half groan.

She frowns.

"I made a you a friend," she says matter of factly. "A human one, like you. I figure you'll have to get to know each other but... well don't be ungrateful, Anon, or so impolite. Go say hi to her, let the friendship begin!"

You turn back to the lumpy, malformed flesh golem, and find that it's approached you while your attention was elsewhere. It is now a mere foot from your face, leering at you with it's strangely muscular teeth. It reaches out a stubby, boneless appendage in your general direction.

"Fweiiiiiind..." it gurgles out.

You let loose a long, warbling cry as you leap back away from it. It follows you, surprisingly quickly, reaching out for your face, for your throat, for your life. Sick with dread, you spot a shovel, likely what Twilight used to move the lumps of inert flesh in here, that she got from god even knows where. You snatch it up with feeble hope, and turn it towards the golem. Unfortunately, she doesn't stop lurching towards you, her mouth opening and closing over and over.

"I'm sorry!" you wail at it, then begin to swing the shovel.

As bits of flesh are hewn away and you hack into the beast, it doesn't even stop moving towards you. It doesn't show pain, or fear, or any recognition of the fact that it's being harmed. It just slowly falls apart before your eyes in a bleeding, twitching pool. At last, the misshapen eyes close, and the creature is no more. You turn, blood-spattered to Twilight. She's looking at you aghast, horrified, and obviously disappointed.

"Anon!" she cries. "You... you killed her. And she was your friend!"

There's nothing you can say to make this alright. Nothing you can say will ever make this go away, and so you simply stare at her in dumb silence. Tears form in her eyes, and she shakes her head, visibly emotionally moved by what she has just seen.

"I make you a friend, a human friend, and sure she had problems, but don't we all?" whimpers Twilight. "And you just... kill her in cold blood. What kind of monster are you, Anon?"

From up the stairs, you hear a hesitant and annoying whine of a voice.

"Uh... Twilight? I could use some help," Spike calls. "I got my claw stuck in the garbage disposal again."

Seeming to forget about you entirely for a moment, Twilight sighs and rolls her eyes.

"Christ that stupid fucking dragon," she mutters. "I should really just turn that damn thing on one of these times and obliterate his arm once and for all. Coming Spike!"

She turns to go up the stairs, but pauses to shoot you an icy look over her shoulder.

"You just stay here and think about what you've done, young man. We'll talk about this later."

As she exits the room and you dissolve into a kneeling, weeping, mess, you know that you are going to think about this. You're going to think about this for a very, very long time, whether you want to or not.

-END-

Author's Note

How many friends have you made today?

You Give Me Fever

~*~

It's been a long time since you've been this sick, and it seems you've actually forgotten how to deal with it. First you let yourself get dehydrated by drinking whisky instead of water. I mean, sure, the whisky helped with the aching in your head, but at this point you're pissing brown, and the skin on your hands may actually be sagging. At least the whisky tasted nice. Then, you stayed up late because you were too hot to sleep, and all that pain cured by mild alcoholism came rushing back. Then you insisted to both Twilight and Spike that you were fine and didn't need to take any medicine. You even coughed on Spike, just to make the point. You're pretty sure he's laid up in bed now too. Misery loves company, they always say, and rest assured, you are miserable.

You haven't measured your fever in a while, but by the fact that you're seeing flickering white splotches in the corners of your vision, and that the bedside lamp looks like its doing a lambada with your empty water glass, you're pretty sure it's very high. You can barely hold consciousness for more than an hour, and whenever you feel like you're getting better, you blink, and suddenly there's crusted drool caked on your lips and the side of your face, and your mouth tastes like rotten fruit.

In fact... it actually feels like you might be getting worse.

At this moment, in this brief bout of lucidity, small warning flags suddenly perk up. You feel so hot, like your skin is actually melting off of you.Your mouth is rough all around the inside, like a flea-bitten bald patch on a dog. You can't breathe right, your vision keeps clouding. This is bad. Very bad. Your fever is spiking. You could be in real danger!

You open your mouth to call out, but find your voice has dried up too. You wheeze like a broken squeak toy, and try to straighten up in your bed, but you instantly fall back onto the mattress, too weak to budge. You're helpless, at the mercy of your fever. If it gets too much worse... you could...

You swallow hard, and you're pretty sure your throat makes a creaking noise.

Oh no.

You feel a wave of darkness coming on, a black shadow creeping into the backs of your eyes. You're going to pass out again! Maybe you should write down an SOS, try to toss a pencil into the hall to get attention, slap that lamp before it gets too fresh with your water glass, something!

But it's too late.

Your sight fades.

You're gone.

When you open your eyes again, everything is still cloudy. You can barely even feel your own body. But you do feel something nice. Something cool on your forehead. And in the cotton-muted sounds floating around your head, you hear an almost musical sound, like a mother singing to a child. You open your mouth to call out to the strange sound, and find that your voice has returned. Your throat feels less scratchy, less dry.

"Hey..." you burble out.

The sound stops, and you hear a distant shushing.

"Easy now," you hear the sound becoming words. "You've had a long, rough night. But you're out of the woods now. A few remedies, traditional medicine, a little magic, and your fever is dropping considerably. So just rest up. You'll be all better soon."

You try your best to focus, and your eyes clear enough to make out...

...Twilight?

Sure enough, you see Twilight bent over your bedside, swabbing a cool cloth across your forehead with one hoof. You blink, but this is no hallucination, no trick of the light. She's really there, taking care of you. You can see a bowl by the bed with used up rags, and several bottles of pills on your nightstand. And... did she say it had been a long night? Has she been up with you all this time?

Is... is Twilight taking care of you?

"Twilight?" you say, voice still shaky.

She stops moving the cloth, then smiles slowly and nods.

"Yeah," she says gently. "And don't scare me like that again, okay? You've got to take better care of yourself, Anon. I can't always be here to whip you into shape, you know. Besides, if you went away, who else would I torment every day?"

Somewhere deep in your fever-sick brain and heart, you're touched. Her face shows real concern, real relief that you're going to be okay, you're sure of it. She may be a crazy psycho bitch, but she seems to legitimately care about you. Through all your ups and downs, through all this weird shit she says and does... you being sick really scared her. Really worried her.

Twilight cares about you. In spite of yourself, you find yourself smiling.

"Why Twilight, I never knew you had such a good bedside manner."

She laughs lightly.

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

"Well, maybe I should learn."

You both laugh this time. You're so wrapped up in a contented feeling of warmth that you almost are able to hold off the creeping thought that enters your mind. But as it grows, your laughter fades on your lips. At last, you feel overwhelmed with that one, simple question, and you feel a sudden need to ask it.

"Twilight, why do you have your experiment clipboard with you?"

Her smile doesn't fade as she kicks the thing under your bed.

"Oh, no reason."

"Did you... did you infect me with something?"

"Oh please, does that really sound like something I would do?"

You start to protest that yes, it does, when you shift slightly and notice something strange. Your dick... it feels soft, as in no erection soft, but also hard... on the inside. Like it's been made rigid artificially. And now that you think about it... hey that hurts. That... that really hurts! It feels unnatural down there, as if someone stuffed something hard up your peehole and...

"Twilight, did you give me a fucking catheter??"

"Well you were pissing the bed, I had to figure out how to stream it away from the sheets! They were getting pretty soaked."

"WHAT THE FUCK?" you cry, as you reach for your dick, but wince at the sensation you feel at touching your much-abused privates. "I didn't give you permission to stick anything up my dick! We talked about this!"

"But-"

"And no rectal stuff either!" you snap, before she can get any ideas. "What made you think you could do something like this to me and get away with it!?"

"It's okay, I can fix it!" she says triumphantly, reaching down under the blanket between your legs. "On the count of three! One..."

"Wait, what are you doing on three?

"Two..."

"W-wait, you don't mean-"

"THREE!"

She yanks hard.

Your screams can be heard all the way to Canterlot.

-END-

Author's Note

Pro tip: Never do anything that causes you to need a catheter if you can help it. They tell you it doesn't hurt, but I've helped place one before and remove one. And... removing one, if done wrong, can be an "experience."

In A Spot Of Trouble

~*~

You try not to hear the sound of Twilight's hoofsteps coming up the stairs to your room, but they rink in your ears like funeral bells. It's not going away. It's unmistakable. She's coming.

You look to the door as the panic rises in your chest. Nope, not enough time to get away.

You look to the window. No, the fall would probably kill you.

You look to the closet. No, she'd find you. Also, you're pretty sure she's installed cameras in there at this point.

...

You look to the window again. At least the fall would be quick. But no, it's too late, damn your precise indecision! You turn your attention to the door just in time to see it kicked open, and Twilight stands there before you, looking more than a little annoyed. That's rarely a good sign for you. Or anyone.

"Anon?" she more demands than asks. "There's something I want to ask you."

"Twilight, I swear to fucking christ, if you ask me to help you kidnap a foal again or put that bottle brush thing up Spike's anus..."

"It's nothing like that," she snaps. "I just want to ask you about something I figure you'd know more about as a male. That's all."

This has to be some sort of trap. But at the same time, as long as she doesn't physically do anything to you, she can only hurt you with words. You've had that often enough you're just about immune to it by now. Well... almost. That crack she made about your dick looking like fossilized bird feces still hurt a little. What was she even doing hiding under the bathroom sink while you took a piss, anyway? At this point in your living together, you're not sure you want to know.

"Okay..." you say hesitantly, ever waiting for the other shoe to drop. "What do you want to know?"

"Are freckles cute?"

You pause, and blink. It's such a simple question, so basic, so nice.You know there has to be more to it, but on the surface it's innocuous. You feel a little tension slide from your shoulders.

"Oh... well," you say haltingly. "I guess they're pretty cute on some girls. Like, a little on the nose and cheeks is fine. But once it gets to that splotchy all over so they look like they have some sort of perpetual rash or mild acid burn, that's another matter. Why? Do horses get freckles too?"

She nods, and smiles a little smugly. She's probably gloating at knowing something you don't, even though that's hardly anything new.

"Yes," she says. "Many foals have them, but they fade as you get older. A few older ponies have them as well, some of them you even know! I'm surprised you never noticed!"

"Do male ponies find them attractive?"

She shrugs, and her smile withers.

"I don't actually know," she admits. "I don't really talk to any male ponies that often, or any males really besides my brother. I talk to you, and I talk to Spike, but he hardly counts considering he's only into white mares, the little racist. So I figured you were the one to ask."

"Why not your brother, he's an actual pony."

She shifts side to side uncomfortably then, and looks away from your face with a blush. So there is something more to this that she hasn't mentioned.

"It's... kind of a personal matter. It would be weird asking him," she mumbles.

"Okay... why?"

"Well..." she says, hesitates, then a sudden surge of words tumble effortlessly from her mouth, as if she had stuffed them in there and couldn't suppress the urge to vomit any more. "You see, I never really had freckles growing up, and I always thought they looked kinda lame or ugly, and I've never really heard about ponies getting freckles suddenly once they're older, but it seems I have, and maybe I caught them from someone who has them, and I got them in a kinda weird spot, and I dunno if they're cute or ugly or anything like that or if other ponies get them when they're older, I just don't know, and I wanted a guy's opinion. Make sense?"

The process it as best you can, but you find you have more questions for Twilight than answers. After a moment of consideration, you raise a very skeptical eyebrow at her.

"I think I follow, but... where exactly did you get these freckles?"

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Promise."

"Well, okay," she says, then promptly turns around and lifts her tail.

Welp... there it is. There goes that other shoe, dropping with a thud. And you certainly aren't going to laugh. You gaze down at Twilight's exposed privates and take in the whole scene in a single gaze, then suppress a short, mild gag of surprised disgust. There before you, you see the lips of her vagina, mildly puffy, and speckled all over in brownish red. A few of the spots already have white heads to them, as you can see pus welling up from beneath. By the areas that are irritated, it appears she's been scratching them. You may be mistaken, but you think you can smell a mildly sour odor wafting your way.

"Twilight," you say, voice shaking a little. "Those are not freckles."

She looks up at you over the curve of her rear.

"WHAT? I mean, obviously they are, there are too many of them for it to be an irritated hair follicle or two, and I didn't try any weird chemicals from the lab as lubrication this time, so..."

"That," you say, cutting her off. "Is an STD."

"A what?" She sounds more distressed by the minute.

"A sexually transmitted disease. Someone had some gross disease on their dick, and they put it inside your vagina, and the disease moved from the dick into your vagina, and now it's in your blood, and it's making you break out in those little spots."

"And... it's not cute."

"No, Twilight, STDs are not cute."

She pouts her lower lip out and turns sharply away.

"Damn it," she mutters. "I knew it. He'll pay for this. How dare he make my vagina not cute anymore. He'll pay, you'll see. He'll... pay..."

Before you can say anything else or ask any questions, she marches out of your room and slams the door behind her, leaving you alone and, for once, unharmed.

It is not until you read in tomorrow's paper about Big Macintosh being found dead under suspicious circumstances that you put two and two together. Looking at his obituary photo in the paper you realize that... huh. Guess he did have freckles after all, and you just never noticed. As Twilight walks into the kitchen, you give her a sidelong glance.

"So," you say, "if you always thought freckles looked lame or ugly, why did you sleep with him?"

Twilight pauses, glances over her shoulder at you, shrugs, and then smiles coyly.

"What can I say? I loved the way he laughed. It was infectious."

-END-

Author's Note

Not sorry at all.
Might do a few more of these where Anon, you know, lives without some sort of horrible mutilation done to him. If you have a preference on that, please do let me know.
And remember, wrap it before you tap it, kids.

What The Buzz Is About

~*~

"Twilight, what the fuck are you doing?"

You've been reading the paper calmly for a while now, and just over the tip of the page, you can see her bustling about, busy with something. In your experience, when Twilight is busy, something bad is generally about to happen to you. She has her back to you, but you're sure it's only a matter of time before something terrible occurs. She's arranging something out of a black bag in front of her, and you can't quite see it, and you're honestly not sure you want to.

Now, at the sound of your voice, she perks up and glances over her shoulder. And smiles.

Yeah, definitely a bad sign. The brace for impact.

"Well," she says slowly. "I'm just... readying a little experiment."

"Oh?"

"Don't worry, I just need you to answer questions," she says lightly. "I can handle the rest from there."

You narrow your eyes at her. She's been asking quite a lot of questions recently, and demanding you give answers. It hasn't turned out for you badly yet, but perhaps it's all just been building towards something. And by that gleam in her eye, that coy smile, she definitely knows something you don't.

"So," you say cautiously, "Are these questions going to determine what city you bomb, or what poison you use in our water supply or-"

"No, nothing like that." She gives an exasperated sigh. "They're personal preference questions. I'm trying to figure out a little gift for you. You know, show you how much I appreciate all you mean to me."

Oh, well that doesn't sound so bad. Sure, there was that one time she tired to give you Spike as a sex slave, and he didn't even seem that opposed to the idea. Maybe now she's at least learned her lesson. And besides, Spike gives terrible blowjobs, so you're sure he isn't up for any more of that either.

"Well," you say, "Alright, go for it."

She brightens, straightens up a little, and clears her throat.

"Alright, do you like rabbits?"

"Yeah, I guess sorta. They're good with a green peppercorn sauce."

"No, I mean to like... cuddle and pet and stuff."

"Oh, well then sure, I guess."

"More than bees?"

This gives you pause. If she's going to put bees in your bed again because you're "so sweet" you're moving the fuck out of here tomorrow.

"Yes," you say haltingly. "More than bees."

"What about dolphins?"

"Never cuddled one."

"Pickles?"

"Who the fuck cuddles a pickle?"

"Frogs?"

"Doesn't that give you warts?"

"Caterpillars?"

You put down your paper and stand up, glaring. None of this makes any sense, and you're not enjoying this line of questioning. If she's trying to give you a pet, why ask about pickles? And it's not food, because she nixed the peppercorn sauce for the rabbit, so what...

From your new vantage point, you can see over Twilight's shoulder to the array of objects in front of her. In the distance, there's a soft hum, like the sound of a distant, droning insect. They are long, brightly colored, and in all sorts of whimsical shapes, and they appear to be trembling on the ground. there's one that ends in the head of a dolphin, one that has wings on either side like a bee, and one that appears to have rabbit ears at the end, and one...

Your attention snaps back to Twilight, who is smiling up at you sheepishly. Your scowl deepens.

"GOD DAMN IT TWILIGHT YOU ARE NOT PUTTING ANYTHING UP MY ASS."

She frowns.

"But why nooooot...." she whines.

You're not going to even dignify that with a response. You back away from her and her vibrating minions, afraid to leave your ass unattended, and carefully step your way up the stairs. She follows you with her eyes, lower lip out in a pout. As you reach the door, she calls up after you.

"Come on! You seemed to like the dolphin last time you were sleeping! You were smiling so much, I even thought I might try putting a second one..."

You slam the door before you even hear the end of that sentence. You'll be sleeping with your bedroom door triple locked for the foreseeable future, for fear you'll end up the butt of another one of Twilight's jokes.

-END-

Author's Note

Vibrators creep the fuck out of me.
True story.
I hate them.
I know I'm like the only one, but yeah, no thanks for that vibration. -shudder-

-pencil

Don't Be Cross

~*~

“Anon, what’s a three letter word for what horses eat?”

You look up over your morning paper, raising an incredulous eyebrow. Twilight, in recent days, has started doing the morning crossword during breakfast, probably as some bullshit way to bond with you. It wouldn’t be so annoying except she’s pretty terrible at it, and she’s always asking you for the answers. This morning seems to be no different.

Well, it’s a little different. She’s been acting twitchy, nervous. She’s said she needs to tell you something, then never mind, over and over. You’re just waiting for her to tell you that she needs to cut off one of your toes for science, or she wants you to clean Spike’s potty training cage again. No idea how it keeps getting so dirty. But so far she hasn’t said much since she started the crossword puzzle, and that’s just fine with you. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, especially when living with Twilight Sparkle. Which is weird.

Still, this particular question seems absurd. You stare her down, but she seems genuinely curious, so you roll your eyes and give a sigh.

“Hay,” you grumble. “You should know this, you make some sort of blasphemous fake hamburger out of it.”

“You told me you liked those,” she says with a pout.

“I tolerate them. And only because Fluttershy gets mad and screams if I try to steal a spring lamb to grind up gourmet-style. Anyway, does 'hay' fit?”

“Sure does, thanks Anon.”

You go to hold up your paper again, but you once more hear Twilight clear her throat. With a soft groan, you turn your attention back to this needy-ass princess.

“What.” You grunt.

“What’s a needle pulling thread?”

“Sew.”

“Thanks, and also…”

“Oh god, how many are there?”

“I just have a few trouble spots okay?” she snaps, then trails her hoof down the page before continuing. “Three letters for the center of a storm?”

“Eye.”

These are way too easy for you, is she stupid or are you just smart?

“To take without asking in the past tense?”

“Stole.”

“Four letters for long gone days, archaic.”

“Hm…. Yore? That one is a bit tough actually,” you admit, actually liking how smart you feel right now. Maybe this is why your dumbass mom always smiled like a lobotomized toddler while she did these.

“Yeah, but I think you got it right! It fits!” Twilight says brightly. “I just have one more, think you can do it?”

“Yeah, hit me,” you say, your attention now firmly turned towards this puzzle.

You are a master crossword expert. No one can stop you. You’ll teach all these stupid horses why you kicked so much ass on vocab tests in elementary school.

“Okay,” Twilight says, furrowing her brow. “What is the organ most responsible for filtering blood?”

Somehow, somewhere, in the recesses of your brain, you manage to recall one of your lessons from high school biology. A confident grin spreads across your face like a plague.

“Kidney!” you say, pounding your fist on the table.

“That’s it!” Twilight crows. “Great job, Anon!”

Your chest puffs up with pride as Twilight folds the paper, sets it down, and pushes herself back from the table. You’re almost disappointed this little trial is done. Maybe… maybe you wouldn’t mind helping her out with these words again tomorrow. Just as Twilight exits the room, you remember something.

“Oh, hey, Twilight? Didn’t you want to tell me something?”

“Nope!” she says cheerily. “My conscience is clean and clear! Have a good day, Anon!”

And with that she exits. You watch her go with a slight smile on your own face, then go back to reading the obituary section in hopes of finding good yard sales for this weekend. You had a nice time with Twilight today, she didn’t ask to torture you horribly in some way, you don’t have to clean the potty cage, and now you have some peace and quiet for the foreseeable future. You can’t remember the last time that happened!

If it wasn’t for that mysterious dull ache on the right side of your lower back, today would be a pretty perfect day.

-END-

Author's Note

Anon can have nice days sometimes, right?
...r-right?

A Break

~*~

What even is this life? Who even are you anymore?

You sit there staring at the ceiling in quiet contemplation, just letting thoughts stream through your head in one, long, unbroken ribbon. You let the ideas and emotions flow together, changing fluidly from memories, to hopes, to recent hurts, to losses you’ve never gotten over. You just let the emotions happen to you, one after another, both morbidly loving how seamless it is, but also feeling a swelling in your chest. Like something in you is infected and wants to burst. You don’t even think it’s some Twilight experiment this time.

As if sensing her name has crossed your lips, you hear the soft clipping of hooves as the princess of friendship passes your door. You shut your eyes tightly, and stop your rushing thoughts in order to say a small prayer that, at least for now, she keeps walking.

The hoof-falls pass your door. Then stop. Then again head towards your room.

Fuck.

Before you can completely shake yourself loose from your own feelings, you hear a knock on your door. Before you can answer, the door bursts open and Twilight’s beaming, cheery face thrusts around the edge of the frame.

“Hey there Anon!” she says brightly. “If you’re not busy would you be interested in…”

She stops. You didn’t really expect that shit, but maybe it’s the sight of you that surprises her. You’re sitting there, on the ground by your bed, your knees half-curled in towards you, just looking up. You’ve rolled your head sideways to look at her, and you can’t even muster up annoyance of frustration or welcoming (if you for some reason wanted that expression at least). Maybe it’s the blank, lifeless expression. Or maybe it’s just something in the air.

I mean, you haven’t bathed in two days. So it could definitely possibly be that.

“What.” you say, and it’s barely a question.

“Oh,” she says haltingly. “I… I just… hey, are you okay?”

She tilts her head at you like a questioning bird, and trots a little, tentatively closer.

“Eh,” you say honestly.

“What’s troubling you, maybe I could help?”

You let out a sharp laugh, and she frowns at you, obviously a little offended.

“Look,” you say flatly, again moving your gaze towards the ceiling. “I know you have some plan for me, or some favor, or some question or something. I know you probably have to tell me you’ve adopted me, or that you cloned my dick and now it’s sentient.”

“Oh pish, I adopted you months ago and the cloning thing still isn’t working, you know that.”

“Anyway,” you say, choosing to ignore her words. “I know you have all that in mind. I know you are always busy and focused, and that I really have no power to stop it. But… right now… I… I…”

The words become difficult for some reason.

“I don’t know that I can do it right now,” you manage to say, your voice wavering even as you try to keep it steady. “I don’t think I can be me, the way I usually am. I can’t make the jokes, the snide remarks, I can’t… deal with some new torture or pain or psychological trauma. I can… I can barely exist right now. Life is fucked, I’m fucked. Everyone is shit. It’s taking all the effort I have just to breathe and sit and… I don’t know, Twi. I’m so tired. Can’t it wait? Just this once? Please?”

There’s a long, looming silence in the room. You shut your eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop waiting for her to hit you with a liter or figurative ton of bricks and force you back into this life you’re struggling through at the very best.

Then, you hear the soft hoof-falls of Twilight come over to you, and there’s a soft ‘thud’ of her sitting down heavily beside you.

“Want to talk?” she says simply.

“No.”

“Want to be alone?”

“…no.”

“Then can I just… sit here with you a bit?”

You glance down to find her looking up at you, earnestly, her expression just as worn and empty as your own. You feel a catch in your throat as you recognize your own feelings mirrored in her face. Maybe… maybe you’re not the only one who gets tired.

“Sure,” you say in almost a whisper.

Twilight nods, then sits back with her head lying against the bed, staring up at the ceiling like you had been doing. You let out a long-held sigh, and follow suit. You shut your eyes, and silence resumes. Your mind starts to wander once more, but this time it feels… a little less heavy for some reason. Like you’re not the only one carrying the weight.

“You know, tomorrow I’m going to wreck your shit,” Twilight hisses at you.

“I know,” you say with a wry smile. “Tomorrow.”

You’re still not sure what this life is anymore… but it’s a life, at least.

-END-

Author's Note

...Everyone needs a break sometimes.

:heart:

Absolute Bedlam

~*~

On this fine morning, you open your eyes, look around the room, and immediately decide that this is a mistake. With a loud groan you clutch at your pounding skull, trying hard to remember what the fuck happened the night before.

Okay, so you were at Fluttershy's place, you know that much. You drank some alcoholic milk or something, and you remember that it wasn't cow's milk. Kangaroo milk maybe? Who the fuck knows. But you know you got right and turnt. You danced on top of something. You think it was a table, but it was really small and purple, with green spikes on it, and it kept screaming "OH GOD get off of me you're crushing me somepony help!" Huh. What a weird table. Then you remember bending over a chair and that your ass hurt for some reason, but also that it felt sorta nice, and Fluttershy kept telling you to "please take it like a good boy" but she wouldn't hand you anything... yeah, most of last night doesn't make any sense.

You're also pretty sure you puked on a kitten. And then tried to clean it up with another kitten. But maybe you just imagined that.

But what you do know for sure now is that your head is killing you, and that this might be the worst hangover you have ever experienced.

You let out another groan and bury your face into the pillow, hoping that you will be able to suffocate yourself this way and experience the bliss that is death rather than this spinning, throbbing pain in your head. And in your anus, but that's really secondary.

Maybe, today, you can just sleep. All day. Without interruption. You can try this whole being alive thing again tomorrow. Yeah, that almost sounds like a plan. You're not sure, you still can't think straight through the post-alcohol fog.

You shut your eyes tightly and will yourself to go to sleep again. The fizzy darkness in your mind quickly sets in around the edges, and you begin to lose track of your form and whereabouts. Yes, this is it, you're going to manage to just pass out for a day. You're almost...

"ANON" comes a thundering, shrieking, brain-rending shout.

You make a sound like a dying cow in response.

You open one eye just a crack, which still feels like too much, and find Twilight standing next to your bed, looking more than a little ticked off.

"What." you gargle out.

"What are you doing still in bed?! Did you forget?"

"What," you say again. This might be the only sound you can actually manage right now.

"You and I were going to the lake today!" she says, her words grating against your head like sandpaper. "We have to catch fish so I can try making Ikizukuri. I really think it'll be an interesting food experiment. Or experiment in general. Either way, you promised!"

"No," you rattle. Oh good, you have at least one other word in your arsenal.

She scowls at you and stamps a hoof.

"Anon. You. Promised."

"Twilight," you say, somehow making your jaw move, though you think you can hear every creak. "I am not going anywhere today. We can go tomorrow."

"But you said-"

"Twilight I am not leaving this bed today. Do you understand?" you snap, shutting your eyes tightly again.

You are greeted in response with complete silence. You'd open your eyes to check if she is still there, but you also don't want to jinx it. Instead, you once more try to embrace the oblivion of sleep. Hopefully all will be better by morning.

You drift off gradually, and before long, you are caught up in the gentle lull of a moving sensation, like you're in your mother's arms, being held and rocked to sleep. This is a nice dream, you tell yourself. A nice memory, going back to your childhood, where you were truly safe and happy, before real life slapped those feelings right out of you.

There's.. only one problem with that, though, isn't there? Your brain suddenly reminds you that you had a fucking terrible mother who never held you as a baby unless it was to try to leave you at a bus stop, or that one time she tried to put you in an oven. Meth is a hell of a drug, man. So this rocking motion... it's...

...why does it feel like you've wet the bed?

Your eyes shoot open, and out of the corner of the one not pressed down into the pillow, you see that you are surrounded on all sides by crystal blue water. You're still in bed, definitely, but your bed appears to be floating. In a lake.

Welp. You know exactly what has happened.

"TWILIGHT!" you shriek at the top of your lungs. "WHAT THE FUCK?"

"Hiiiiiii Anon..." you hear her call from shore. "You prooooooomised!"

"FUCK YOU CHAOTIC EVIL MAGIC BOOKHORSE!" you scream as you shakily get to your hands and knees.

"Whaaaaat? I can't hear you! You're on a laaaaaaake!"

"I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU YOU..."

In your hungover rage, which by the way has given you the weirdest boner (or maybe that's the residual anus pain, who can be sure when the prostate is involved), you tip the bed just a little too much. With a scream of agony, you topple sideways, and the bed deposits you into the cold water of the lake with a loud splash. Even from under water, you can still hear Twilight laughing. You're furious at her right now, but to be honest, you're actually more angry at yourself.

After all, you made your bed, and now you have to lie in it.

-END-

Author's Note

So, you guys should really totally look up what Ikizukuri is...

-pencil

I'm Game For Anything

~*~

It's a lovely morning to stay in bed.

Well, at least it would be, if Twilight wasn't physically dragging you out of your bed and down the stairs of the castle with her magic. It's all so abrupt that you can't even make out what she's saying beyond the sudden rhythmic "BUMP. BUMP. BUMP" of your head hitting each individual step. At last you wake up enough to raise yourself a little within the purple glow to get a handle on what the fuck is happening.

"Wait, wait, HOLD THE FUCK UP!" you cry, and Twilight stops. "What's this about a... a game?"

Twilight lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls her eyes.

"Yes, that's what I was saying. I made a compute game, and I want you to try it out!"

Never mind that you've only seen Twilight use her computer for science experiments before, the idea of her making a game is... a little terrifying. You imagine some Jumanji shit... then get the idea that she's done something like that before. It's as if it happened in another life or something.

Anyway, you resist against her pulling and scowl at the pony now waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hold on," you growl, "who said I would test it? Bet it sucks ass anyway."

Another exasperated sigh.

"Anon," she says curtly, "it's either you play my game or I find something else to do with my time. Do you really want me to find something else to do with my time?"

It doesn't take more than a moment for you to shake your head 'No' to that.

"That's what I though," she continues. "So, just come sit down, give it a play, and let me know what you think!"

Before you can say another word, she drags you the rest of the way down the stairs with many a bump and bruise, until you reach the living room. She's set up a very very old looking computer there, and you eye it warily, like it might leap out and bite you at any moment. For all you know, and based on past experiences, it actually might.

"Tah-dah!" she announces proudly, "My first game! I call it Pony Dungeon Generator!"

You immediately recoil from the computer, and she gives you a withering look.

"Not that kind of dungeon, dumbass. It's a text based game, like Ogres and Oubliettes, but it's all generated as you respond!"

"...no set commands?"

"Nope! It uses my intelligence and the emotions of whoever is playing it to generate the next line of the adventure. With magic!"

"So, basically you don't have to explain how it works because Magic, ain't gotta explain shit?"

"Precisely," she says proudly. "And, given you're an emotional wreck most of the time, I figured you'd be the perfect playtester."

She pulls out the chair for you and pats it invitingly, like a executioner might do to a chopping block. You don't like the look in her eyes, or that quip about how you're an emotional wreck, but you suppose this is better than having insects injected under your skin. Again. So you sigh and sit down.

"So, how do I..." you start to say, but she quickly cuts you off and leaps in beside you with a barrage of instructions streaming from her mouth.

"Okay, usually you'd choose from a scenario prompt, but I made a custom one just for you. You just type in the commands, like orders. It's all in second person, so if you don't like second person get the fuck out I don't care and your complaints are just those of someone who doesn't understand second person grow the fuck up you pleb I'll write in whatever form I want and if you don't like it don't play. So just, type away, and let the adventure begin! It'll literally do anything. ANYTHING."

She aggressively emphasizes the last word, and you try your best to keep your fingers from shaking as you hold them up over the keyboard. You press enter, and the initial prompt writes itself out across your screen.

You are Anon, a human transported to Equestria, land of ponies, by some unknown means. You have been living with Princess Twilight Sparkle and her moronic assistant, Spike the Dragon for some time now in their castle. You don’t help with the chores, and Twilight is a great roommate to you, despite all her experiments and unwanted sexual advances. Spike, as usual, is useless. You are a lazy human, the only one in Equestria, and stay inside too much, and are only mildly attractive. Still, your life goes on in this manner. At least until today. Today, something has changed. Something big. The world is changing...

You glare at Twilight and she smiles at you broadly, obviously proud of this prompt. Besides the insults, it's pretty bland and generic. But hey, maybe it'll go somewhere.

You're tempted to type in that you go back to sleep, but honestly you're a little curious and you did say you'd play along. Or maybe you just weren't given a chance to object. Pretty much the same thing around here. You think for a moment, glance at your pony roommate, then begin typing.

Go downstairs to find Twilight

You walk down the stairs and see Twilight sitting at the table, reading a book. She looks up when she sees you come in, but doesn't say anything.

"What do you want?" she asks. "I told you to leave."

You try to hide a scoff, and mostly fail. Usually it's you wishing she would leave. Now you know this game is a work of fantasy. You continue typing.

Ask why she wants you to leave

"Why did you want me to leave?"
"Because I wanted you out of here! It's not safe anymore!"
"It isn't? What about the rest of us?

Ask Twilight why it's not safe anymore

Twilight sighs.
"There's always danger around here."
"But that was different! We were safe!

Tell Twilight that you don't want to leave the castle

"No, I'm sorry. I just..."
"I know. But we can't be safe anywhere. We need to get out of here."

Ask Twilight where we should go

"Where should we go?"
"Well, there's a forest nearby. There's also a town called Manehattan. That way would probably be safer."

Ask if we should take Spike with us

"Spike? No, he's useless. He'll get killed or eaten."

Now you laugh in earnest. Well, at least the game has gotten this much right. You glance down at Twilight by your side, who is watching the screen with a gaze of intent childlike wonder.

"Well, the game really nailed Spike, huh?" you say with a grin.

"Shut up and play," she hisses, "I wanna know what happens once we leave!"

You roll your eyes and dismiss the fact that she ignored your compliment before diving right back in. At least the game seems to be functioning pretty okay, even if the dialogue is thin at best.

!Agree, then go upstairs to get packed for the journey

You pack yourself and prepare to leave. As you're packing, Twilight suddenly speaks again.

"Are you going to go with me?"

"Yes, I'm going with you to Manehattan. I don't think the woods are safe."

"Oh, I understand. Then let's go together."

Set out in the night for Manehattan

The two of you walk through the darkness. Soon, you reach a small town named Manehattan. The streets are empty and deserted. You wonder what might have happened there...

Search the town with Twilight

As you walk down the street, Twilight is walking ahead of you. Suddenly, she stops and turns around. She looks at you and says:

"This isn't right."

Nod and ask what she thinks happened

"I think we got lost."

"No, this is Manehattan alright. It's just completely empty. Where is everypony?"

Twilight nods and continues to walk.

Search the Manehattan street for clues as to why everypony is missing

You continue searching the streets for any sign of the others. Eventually, you find an alleyway leading into a building. You enter it cautiously and peek your head outside.

What do I see

You look up and see a large group of ponies sitting on the ground. They're all wearing strange clothing, some even have odd hats or caps on their heads. There are also several of them standing nearby, but they seem to be watching something else entirely.

"Oooooh," Twilight says beside you, her whole body wiggling in delight, "Now it's getting interesting!"

"So, should I approach them then or..."

"Attack them!" she declares loudly. "They're obviously imposters, we should kill them on sight."

You blink at her, then shake your head disapprovingly.

"Twilight, I'm not going to just go around killing ponies for no reason," you say.

She frowns at you, obviously disappointed. Then she slumps a little, her wings sagging, and sighs.

"Fine, approach them then, I guess," she grumbles.

Approach the large group of ponies with Twilight

You approach the group of ponies and try to get closer to them. A few of them begin talking amongst themselves, but you can't make out much due to the noise made by the crowd. Finally, one of them speaks up.

What does the pony say

"We were attacked by..."

Listen closely

The pony begins to speak in a low voice.

What were they attacked by

"It was a bunch of... things! We were attacked by these creatures!"

Ask the group of ponies what sort of creatures attacked them

"A bunch of... things! And they had big teeth, claws and wings like bats or birds! They were ugly too!"

What were the creatures called

"They were called... The Flotsam."

Ask Twilight what she knows about the Flotsam

"I don't know anything about them, but I do know that they're not from Equestria. There's no such place as 'Flotsam' in any language."

"It's true," Twilight ays with a somber nod, "There are no such creatures as Flotsam. Sound like something from your world."

You shrug.

"We don't have any animals known as Flotsam from my world either," you say, "so it's probably just made up for the game or something."

"Either way," Twilight says, "We should probably go find them. They messed up Manehattan, so we should mess them up too."

"Twilight..."

"Just go try to find them!"

Ask where to find the Flotsam

"There are many islands off the coast of Fluttershy Island, but none of them have ever been found to be inhabited by anything other than sea gulls and seagulls. But there is one island which has never been explored; it's name is Flotsam Isle."

Journey with Twilight Sparkle across the land to Flotsam Isle

You and Twilight travel across the land to Flotsam Isle. It seems that the island is filled with strange creatures. Some look human, some look animalistic, some even looked alien looking. All of them seem to want to kill you for your curiosity about their existence.

Ask Twilight what you should do

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you. These creatures aren't native to this island, so they wouldn't attack you if you didn't trespass on their territory."

As you rub your chin, thinking about how to best handle this situation, Twilight practically leaps into your lap, her hooves digging into your leg with excitement. You look down at her with a short yelp of surprise and mild pain, to find her eyes wild and large.

"It's time!" she squeals. "Fight them! Kill them all! Become the warrior you could never be in real life because you're too much of a pussy!"

You groan and shove her away from you.

"First of all, ow, trim your fucking hooves sometime. Second, we're not going to kill these creatures! We're not even sure what they are, or why they attacked Manehattan in the first place! There's definitely a nonviolent solution."

"But that's no fun!"

"This is my playthrough,a nd I'm playing it my way," you snap. "You made the game, you can play it once I'm done, okay?"

She doesn't look satisfied with this answer, and instead just continues to grumble and look away from you. You wait to see if she'll say anything more, but when she doesn't you go back to typing. You even go as far as to include her in your next command, just to piss her off.

Use Twilight's magic to subdue the creatures without violence

You use Twilight's magic to subdue the creatures without violence. After a few minutes of fighting, you manage to defeat all of them.

Ask the Flotsam if they can speak

"Yes, we can talk to you through the trees."

Ask the Flotsam where they came from

"We're from an island called Flotsam, which lies far out at sea. We've lived here since we were young, but our home was destroyed when the storm hit us. Our only way back to land is through a small boat made of driftwood."

Ask why they are attacking ponies

"The ponies attacked us because they thought we were pirates! They said we stole their treasure!"

Tell them that this was all a misunderstanding and now the Flotsam and ponies can live in peace

"That's wonderful!"

Tell the Flotsam that you're friends now

"It's good to be friends with you too."

"OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" Twilight shouts from beside you, rising to her hooves and glaring at the computer.

"What? I thought you were the princess of friendship," you say, half joking, half a little frightened.

You've seen that wild look in Twilight's eyes before. It's rarely if ever a good sign. You raise your hands instinctually in a defensive gesture, just in time to feel a strong shove from her hooves. You topple to the ground, chair and all, and look up to find Twilight typing feverishly away.

"This has gone on long enough," she growls, "This is an adventure game. Action. Excitement. Not whatever pansy ass shit this is! We're doing it my way now..."

You look up at the screen in horror, as her words quickly flood across the input bar. You reach for her to stop her, but it's too late. The deed is done.

Stab, shoot, and kill the Flotsam

You fire several bullets into the creature's body as it falls backwards onto its face. It begins to struggle, but you stop it by shooting another bullet into its head.

Twilight tramples and kills the Flotsam

You quickly finish off the Flotsam and leave them to die. You don't know what happened to the rest of the tribe, but you assume they died too.

Twilight murders the Flotsam

You walk down the path towards the Flotsam village, which is still burning. There are many dead bodies lying on the ground around it. Some have been burned beyond recognition while others look like they just got caught in a blast of flames.

Have sex with the corpses

You kiss the corpse of one of the Flotsam women and begin having sexual relations with her. She doesn't resist or even complain about your actions, she seems happy for once.

Thrust into the dead Flotsam woman

You continue to have sexual relations with the corpse until you ejaculate inside her. You feel nothing except happiness at having satisfied yourself. As you pull out, she looks at you with tears streaming down her eyes.

Violate more corpses

You continue to have sexual relations with the corpses until you ejaculate inside each of them. You feel nothing but happiness at having satisfied yourself.

Commit necrophilia

You continue to have sexual relations with the corpses until you ejaculate inside each of them. You feel nothing but happiness at having satisfied yourself.

Commit war crimes

You continue to have sexual relations with the corpses until you ejaculate inside each of them. You feel nothing but happiness at having satisfied yourself.

Burn down everything

You continue to have sexual relations with the corpses until you ejaculate inside each of them. You feel nothing but happiness at having satisfied yourself.

"Twilight, stop!" you cry, trying to grab the keyboard from her to no avail, "You've gotten it into a loop! It's just going to keep saying that forever unless you do something else!"

"Then you'll rape corpses forever," she snaps, and begins typing in a new command, something about fingering cloacas.

You kneel beside her, pleading. For some reason, you feel for the plight of these poor Flotsam. Perhaps it's because you know what it's like to be on the other side of Twilight's wrath. Perhaps because you like being kind to NPCs in video games, like a little bitch. Maybe it's just because you've actually become invested in this weird storyline and you'd love some real, actual friends, even if you're computer generated. Whatever the reason, you're desperate to stop her.

"Please," you say, "Please Twilight. Change up what you're doing. Ask the game to do anything but that. Anything but sex with corpses, please!"

Twilight looks like she's going to ignore you completely, but then she stops. She thinks hard for a moment or two, and you feel a sudden surge of relief that perhaps, maybe, this time, she's going to listen to you. Then, with a solemn nod, she reches back down tot he keyboard and begins typing.

Have sexual relations with Twilight Sparkle

You grab Twilight by the ponytail and kiss her passionately as she walks behind you.

Thrust into Twilight's pussy from behind to surprise her

You quickly move behind Twilight and thrust into her from behind. This causes Twilight to jump a bit, but she soon recovers and...

You stand up from the floor, lower your head, and hold your hands up in surrender.

"Nope," you say flatly, "I'm out."

"But-" Twilight starts to say, but you're already trudging towards the stairs.

"Nope," you say to yourself quietly, "not today, Twilight. Just. Not today."

"But you're missing the best part! I'm making you fistfuck my ass!" she calls after you as you climb back up towards your bedroom. "I haven't even shoved anything in your ass yet!"

You shut the door to your bedroom behind you, and say a secret, somber prayer for all the poor Flotsam on a digital island somewhere, filled with your cum. You can't help but feel that they were the ones that actually came to a bad end.

-END-

Author's Note

The game portions of this story is actually written using AI Dungeon, a bot that creates a text-based game as you go, much the way Twilight explained it. You can play for yourself with set or custom prompts! It might actually work by magic, I have no idea. So, yes, these are actually the lines it fed me when I played with these commands.
Not sorry.

If you're a fan of Screaming Closet, expect to see Priest and I play this AI soon on Twitch.

-pencil

Sick Burn, Bro

~*~

You hear Twilight's shrill voice echo from across the castle.

"Anon! Come heeere.... I need yoooou..."

Your whole body instinctively tenses up. Oh god. That weird swoony voice, the way she extends and slurs the words. Yes, it sounds to you like Twilight is drunk. Shit, the last time she was drunk she knocked Spike unconscious and then used him and other random objects to play shuffleboard in the castle. And by "shuffleboard" what she meant was throwing everything off the balcony and trying to get it to land as close to the walls as possible.

You were horrified at first. But hey, you won the tournament she suggested shortly after. So it could have been worse.

Still, Twilight with her inhibitions is bad enough. Without she's definitely downright dangerous. Maybe you shouldn't go check on her.

"Anooooon! If you don't come heeeere I'll curse your feet to try to walk in opposite directions from eachotheeeeer... Are you flexible anooon?"

You are not.

With a sigh you get up out of bed and put down your issue of Stablemates, sheathe your still-stubby warrior and head out into the hall. You go down the hallways towards Twilight's chamber, and you hear a soft coughing coming from that direction. Oh lord, if she's sick to the point of puking, you are not cleaning that up again.You still have nightmares about the baby bird she barfed up last time. It was still... alive.

You involuntarily shudder as you turn the door knob and open her door.

Once inside, you quickly discover that Twilight is not in fact drunk. No. It's far worse than that.

Twilight lies under several layers of blankets on her bed. Her face is rosy, her mane looks tousled and sweaty, and she has dark circles under her eyes. She sniffs hard and a trail of slick, pale green snot worms its way down her nostrils to hover on her upper lip before dripping into her open and panting mouth.

Twilight Sparkle is sick.

You're still for a moment, and she stares at you, breathing thickly.

"Well, I guess I'll be going then," you announce, and turn to leave the room.

"Don't you dare!" Twilight barks, her words sounding wet.

The door behind you lights up with magic, but rather than slamming it immediately bursts into flames. Within less than a second the door is a pile of sparkling purple ash on the ground.

"Shit," Twilight mutters. "Can't think straight to do magic."

"Thus I am leaving."

"You stay or I'm casting the next spell on you," she says, smiling grimly. "Who know what'll happen? Ever seen your own skin peel off like wallpaper? Wanna know what it's like when your anus and mouth switch places?"

You groan and walk over to her bedside, then sit on the small stool she has positioned there. Twilight clears her throat, which sounds something like a person blowing bubbles into a bowl of chowder with a straw.

"Thas better," she mumbles.

"So, what do you want," you say flatly.

"I can't sleep, tell me a story," she says.

"Really? You can't just, I dunno, read a book like usual?"

"My eyes are all blurry, and besides I've read all my books, I want something new."

"So you want me to..."

"Make up a story," she demands like the impetuous little child she is.

You think for a moment. Anything that can get you out of here sooner rather than later sounds like a good plan. You clear your throat, and this time it sounds like a normal, healthy person. Not a sick pony snot beast.

"Okay," you begin, "there was once a very ugly barnacle..."

"You told me that one alreadyyyyy," she whines, "I need a new one."

Damn, you'd forgotten that you'd tried that last time. It had been cute at first how excited she'd gotten. Then terrifying as she started to swear at you in latin. She might actually have been possessed that time, not sick. It's impossible to tell anymore.

"So..." you say, doing the best you can to think on your feet, "there was once a princess."

"And her name was Twilight."

"...sure, her name was Twilight," you say, with a scowl, "and she was endlessly cruel to her roommate and pet wimp dragon. Everyone hated her but they were too scared to leave and one day they finally staged a coup and was burned at the stake. The end."

"Come on... give it a happy ending."

"That was a happy ending in my mind," you say with a dreamy, far-off look in your eye.

"Come oooooon," she whines once more.

"Fine, fine, and Twilight learned a very valuable friendship lesson. She stopped doing weird experiments on her friends and loved ones, committed herself to being the princess of Friendship, and everyone slowly grew to love her over time. And they all lived happily ever after."

Twilight was silent a moment, and you hold your breath, hoping this has done the trick. After a few tense minutes, she begins to tremble, and gives a short nod.

"Yeah... yeah that sounds nice..." she mumbles, "but I'm cold. Tuck me in and then you can go."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

You stand up, lift what must be four layers of blankets and move to tuck them in around her neck. She's actually a little cute here, all helpless and pouty. Maybe, in another world the two of you could have...

Twilight vomits onto you chest.

You freeze, trying not to breathe in the smell of her bile as you feel the wetness of the puke singing through your shirt. Then you slowly stand up straight, angry at yourself for expecting anything different. After a moment, Twilight coughs, smiles, and looks up at you almost proudly.

"Okay, you can go," she says sweetly. "I feel much better now."

You turn and walk away, reminding yourself that anyone who trusts Twilight at this point is a total Flu-ser.

-END-

Author's Note

Not sorry. Also, I am glad I am no longer sick. Also also I hope you all have a lovely evening and don't try to imagine what magical pony princess puke must smell like.
Good luck.

-pencil :heart:

Too Hot to Handle

~*~

You can't sleep. God knows you want to, but you can't. And that's because it's too fucking hot.

One thing no one will tell you about Ponyville is that during the summers, it gets hot and doesn't really cool down, even in the evenings or night. You've felt something similar once when you visited LA, and had to sleep in the airport. It wasn't the perpetual smell of urine there that bothered you, or the fact that a small cup of coffee cost nine bucks... yes, even if you avoided the many Starbucks kiosks. It was the fact that, as you curled up on the floor to try to sleep, weeping softly into the musty carpets, designed like a bad early 90's teen jacket in pattern, color, and scent, it was like a sauna.

And honestly, you were afraid to sweat, for fear the very air might give you chlamydia. It was a fitful night of sleep. Even before that one weird dude from Portugal tried to spoon you.

Anyway, you'd still trade a whole week of nights at LAX for one break from the humid, sticky heat that is Ponyville. Instead you lie there, plastered to your mattress, looking up at the ceiling and wishing for the sweat release of death.

As if sensing your misery and wanting to contribute, there's a familiar knock on your door.

"Guuuuuuuuuuh," you groan out, in way of an answer.

The door opens, and there, as expected, is Twilight. She's smiling, and you'd be terrified by this fact if you weren't so fucking warm. You're afraid that, if you try to get up or run away, the sweating caused by it would finally push you to the point of fainting from dehydration.

"Still awake, Anon?" she asks.

You slowly turn your head, your hair sticking to your pillow so much that it rotates with you, like a feather-stuffed drool-stained crown. She gazes at your face, unfazed by the sheer ire you're directing at her.

"Guessing no!" she says lightly, then trots over, "Well, I know you don't have fur to help keep you cool, so I figured I might bring you a cool glass of..."

You don't give her time to answer. The moment your eyes lock on the tall clear glass with ice cubes, you spring out of bed. With every remaining ounce of your strength, you throw yourself at the glass and drink it down in one gulp.

"...of vodka."

You cough so hard you're pretty sure one of your tonsils comes with it. Usually you can handle your booze but, when you're not expecting it, 12 tall ounces of vodka right to a dry throat feels like getting shot in the esophagus with a smoke grenade.

Worse, you cough so quickly that you don't even have a chance to feel how nice and cool it was before your face heats up again.

Once you stop hacking, you look up to her with a questioning, no, demanding expression. She looks you over and shrugs.

"Wow, knew you had a drinking problem, but had no idea it was that bad."

"Why," you croak out.

"Just trying to help," she says with a sigh.

"You are not."

She pauses.

"Yeah, you're right," she admits, "But I mean, it's so hot I have to find some way to pass late nights."

"...by torturing me?"

"Look on the bright side," she says with abroad smile, "I could be actually torturing you, like usual."

You open your mouth, then close it again quickly for fear of inviting down the wrath of Twilight's scientific curiosity. It's probably the best decision you've made recently.

"Does it ever... ever cool down?" you demand after a moment.

"Well," Twilight says, thinking very hard, "Maybe a little. If I run the air conditioner."

There is a long pause as you stare into her eyes. There, you see nothing behind the wide, sparkling orbs. No conscience. No soul. Just hollow, empty cruelty, the likes of which you never found on earth. Never have you been so certain that this is actually hell, and this is your eternal punishment for wiping your nose on a baby in the park that one time.

"Air... conditioning... " you say, as if the words are holy ones.

Twilight rolls her eyes.

"Well, yeah," she says, "you don't think I'd live in such a big castle without proper heating and cooling, do you?"

You approach her on shaking legs, hands outstretched as curled claws. With each step, you feel liquid running down your face and neck, and at this point you're not sure if it's sweat or tears.

"Why... isn't it... on..." you hiss, each word coming out more forcefully.

The malicious princess just wrinkles her nose.

"What, and run up my power bill?" she says with a scoff, "Yeah, no thanks."

You let out a guttural noise as you lunge towards her again. She sidesteps you easily and you collapse onto the floor. You are able to turn your head just enough to see her. The vodka rises in your stomach, threatening to come out as you puke your remaining precious bodily essence onto the floor.

"But.... hot..." you wheeze, acid slipping up into your mouth with each word.

Twilight rolls her eyes and steps out of the way of your clutching hands as you grasp at her legs. She shakes her head and clicks her tongue in reproach.

"Look," she says, "central air doesn't grow on trees you know. Where do you think the power comes from around here? Does it just come out of my wall magically?"

"You are literally the element of magic."

"That's not the point," she snaps, "I'm saving money and the environment."

"You dump toxic wastes from your experiments into the swimming hole."

"Also not the point," she says with a dismissive wave of her hoof. "The thing is, I just don't think it's worth it to the household. Spike seems to stay cool even in the highest heat, some internal cooling nonsense, and my bitterness and lack of love keeps me cold at night. So you're just going to have to find a way to deal!"

With that, she walks to the door, and gives you a scornful shake of her head. Then she shuts the door, leaving you whimpering on the floor.

There must be something you can do! You think hard, your mind wandering between memories, movie quotes, childhood nudity accidents, and other random thoughts until at last....

Yes. That's it. That's the answer.

It's wrong. It's gross. But it's the only way. If what Twilight says is true, then there's a way for you to stay cool tonight. If it really works that way, that is, but you won't know until you try. At least one night away from the heat, no matter the cost.

"Good morning Spike!" Twilight calls as she opens the door to the little dragon's room. "I have experiments to do today, and I need someone to buy candy for the fillies so they don't tell their parents that I..."

Twilight trails off into silence as she spots where you're curled up. You look up at her from your tiny, barely-usable hiding space, and smile weakly. You can see rage building in her, and you know this is going to come back on you in the worst way... but it's cool here. Last night, you slept for the first time all week. And it was beautiful.

"GOD DAMN IT ANON!" she screams in rage, "GET THE FUCK OUT OF SPIKE'S ABDOMINAL CAVITY. HE'S NOT A DAMN TAUNTAUN!"

"Of course not, those keep you warm."

"FUCKING DAMN IT ANON!"

"Worth it," you whisper as you duck back inside Spike's still cool corpse.

She'll resurrect him tomorrow, and you're sure she's about to absolutely destroy you. But for just one more moment, you can kick back and just enjoy that you cracked open a cold one to beat the heat.

-END-

Author's Note

...It's hot.

Shed Your Worries

~*~

It is the time of year you dread the most. No, it's not the winter time, when it gets so cold your testicles actually try to crawl back up inside you. And no, it's not that winter wrap up song time bullshit, where they move the snow only to reveal the horse-turd-land-mine covered ground beneath. No, it's the time of year when Twilight starts to shed.

It wouldn't be so bad if you didn't have allergies. But it kicks up so badly this time of year that you can barely move before hacking and sneezing much like your grandpa used to before they diagnosed him with emphysema. ...dear god, is that your future? Are you turning into your grandpa? If that's the case you'd better stay away from elementary schools. But all that is mostly besides the point.

The real point is that you have two choices. You suck it up, wear a breathing mask, and avoid Twilight until she finally drops all of her musty dead fur all over the castle and then compulsively cleans it like a psycho. Or...

You don't like the or. But this year, considering Fluttershy had temporarily banned you from hanging out at her cottage after the green peppercorn sauce incident, you don't have anywhere to go. You know what must be done.

You've enlisted Spike to help you out, but you don't know how useful he's actually going to be. Maybe if you yeet him at her as a distraction, it might work. But other than that, his best feature is probably his ability to breathe fire. Enough might kill her if things get out of hand. It's a real option, and you won't hesitate in taking it if needed.

You're armed, you're ready, you have everything you need. Upstairs is prepared. You just need to aim just right and work fast. It's your only hope. Slowly, you and Spike approach Twilight from behind like some creepy back-alley frat boys.

"Oh Twiiii-light!" you call, trying and failing to sound casual, "We'd like to talk to you about something."

"Oh what is it Anon," she says, turning around, "If it's about the shattered test tube and blood in the garbage disposal, I can expla-"

Her words die in the air as she looks at you, at Spike, then back at you with quickly widening eyes. Your whole body springs towards her just as a high-pitched horse scream leaves her mouth. Spike too springs forward, forgetting he has wings, and falls to the ground like the useless lump of flesh he is. Twilight's reaction is fast, but you're faster. Your enchanted butterfly net covers her, pinning her quickly to the ground. Even then, it's only a matter of time before she charges enough energy to get free.

"Anon!" she screams, "What's the meaning of this!"

You begin to haul the struggling net towards the stairs, grunting as you go.

"It's shed season, Twilight!" you announce, "It had to be done! Last year you clogged the air conditioning so badly that it actually started to blow hot air in all directions just out of spite!"

"But-"

"Hot air, Twilight!" you shout as the bag thuds off of each step, "It's objectively the worst kind of air!"

"But-"

"This is happening!" You cry as you drag her swiftly to the bathroom, where a hopefully hot tub of water awaits.

Unceremoniously, you lift the net, grab the pony inside, and deposit her into the bath with a slash and a squawk. You don't even care that you're getting wet, this will all be worth it soon. As Twilight shrieks and thrashes in the water like a toddler who has decided pants are the devil during morning dressing time, you reach to your pocket where a curry comb is stashed. Your other hand flies to your belt to fish out a sweat scraper, and you raise both towards her, ready to do business.

"I know you hate shed baths," you tell her, trying not to sound as manic as you feel, "But it'll only take a moment and then you'll be free from... from..."

You look down before you only to find no matted clumps of purple fur on her body. You see no rasta-like dreads and wads in her mane. There is no blanket of loose hair across the surface of the water, no puffs of whispy fur floating down around her struggling form. In face, Twilight is completely clean of any shed.

You blink, suddenly feeling very useless and very confused. The alicorn glowers at you from the bath tub, and if her eyes could shoot you'd be dead. You swallow hard as you sense impending doom.

"W-why you no hairy messy pony?" you stutter out like a moron.

"I know how much you hate shed," she says in a seething voice. "I went to the parlor this morning and had them groom it all off of me. You know. To be nice. And also so I wouldn't have to listen to your disgusting sneezing all day. Your mucous gets everywhere, you know."

"You mean... none of this was necessary."

"Yep."

"And I dunked you for no actual reason. Into probably cold by now water. After capturing you in your own kitchen."

"That would be correct."

"And you're probably going to do unspeakable things to me in revenge."

"Also correct."

There is a moment of perfect stillness and quiet as the tension grows. You're dead. You're just fucking dead. There's no way you're getting out of...

"Hey, Anon," you left me in the kitchen!" Spike says as he enters the bathroom.

Without thought or hesitation, you reach down and snatch Spike up into your hands. He barely struggled, possibly realizing that he is about to be part of a plan much greater than himself.

"YEET!" you cry as you lob the whimpering dragon hard at the soggy pony. You have just enough time to see Spike collide directly with her face, knocking her out cold. She tumbles back into the water, and you say a quiet prayer that she won't drown like a celebrity on too many oxy, before sprinting away to the safety of your closet.

What do you know! Your yeet the baby plan worked! One might even call this...

A clean getaway.

-End-

Author's Note

Yes, horses shed. And it's fucking awful.

Also, hi.

Twilight Can't Into Words

You are very rudely awakened one morning when Twilight comes rushing into your room. She's rushed into your room like this before, but today things are different. Usually it's to bring you breakfast, or to show you some new spell, or just to tell you to get that filly out of your bed, what the fuck are you thinking. But no. Today, she's screaming. And today it's 5AM.

What in the gray dawn is going on here.

"Anon! Would you into do the would is help?" she half-shrieks.

You wait for the sentence to make some sense to you, but it just never seems to fit itself together. W-what? Did...did you hear that right?

"Twilight, what are you saying?"

She blushes, looking very distressed. For a moment, she's silent, like she's trying to form her thoughts more clearly. She shuts her eyes, bites her lower lip hard, and makes a sort of little whine in the back of her throat. When she opens her eyes, you can see fear and desperation there.

Kinda hot. You know, it if wasn't 5AM.

"Am I the pony one which is one can't because you?" she says, voice trembling.

Nope, still not making sense.

It's too early. You're too tired. That bender you went on last night with Zecora is still weighing on you. Bi-color bitch mixes some mean drinks! But that means that right now, you don't have the time or braincells for this. Also, you were having dessert dreams, your favorite kind! You can still almost taste the sugar on your tongue. You're just about through with Twilight's shit.

"Twilight, speak fucking English." you say bluntly.

She grabs the fronts of your PJ's, eyes brimming with panicked tears. She shakes you at the hips, and you look down as if your heart was made of stone. There is no sympathy for those who wake you from dreams about Oreo churros. None.

"I spelled a thing magicifally that speaking maded me to give if can when does!" she says.

You roll your eyes and begin to push her to the bedroom door. Something about magic. Something about speaking. But no, you don't care. She can deal with this herself, you need your beauty rest.

"I don't know what you're saying, or what you want me to do about this. But you're on your own. Now, if you can't express yourself properly, I want you to get the fuck out."

She lowers her eyes, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. You hear her whimpering pathetically, but it does nothing to break through your sleep-hardened exterior. At last, she raises her chin and meets your eyes. Her voice cracks as she speaks.

"Then why did what you did do more like as what opposed to it?"

You slam the door in her face and go back to bed.

I think we're done here.

-End-

Game Time, Rhyme Time

"Hey, could you do me a favor Anon?"

It's a sunny day, just around noon, and you look up from a book you recently grabbed from the upstairs library to find your roommate, Twilight, regarding you uncomfortably. You smile at her, but remind yourself that there's no way you're helping her braid her mane again. You could feel the testosterone seeping out of your body in full gallons last time you did that. Sure it's soft, but nope. Never again.

"Depends on the favor, but I'd be game. What's up?"

She seems to wince at having to explain herself.

"Well, you see, every few weeks this zebra, Zecora, comes around here to see me."

"Yeah," you say, closing your book. "I noticed that. She's always bringing a game or something with her, what's up with that anyway."

The purple unicorn shrugs.

"I don't know, maybe she just wants company, and I don't think she has too many other friends besides me. Anyway, I have to be...somewhere else today. Could you...I don't know, entertain her or something?"

You look Twilight up and down a few times skeptically. Has to be somewhere else, huh? More like is avoiding her. You can tell when a burden is being passed off on you, and that's definitely what's happening now. Still, playing games with a Zebra, how hard can it be. You hesitate, but eventually do give your answer.

"I suppose, but-"

"GREAT!" she cries before you can finish. "In fact, I have to be going. As in...right now...so..."

She's already making her way to the door before she even finishes her sentence. You call out to her, but she doesn't slow her steady progress away from you.

"But Twilight, what-"

"No time to chat, see you later kthanks, bye!"

She slams the door behind her and with that she is gone.

It's only a little later that afternoon when you hear a knock at the door. Standing there is that zebra (Zecora was it?) you've seen around every so often, just as Twilight said she would be. She's smiling at you expectantly, the sun glinting off her gold jewelry, and she's carrying a strange box on her back.

"Well hi," you say, trying to be cordial. "Twilight's not here right now, but can I help you with anything?"

Her smile never wavers for a moment, and she even seems to take a small, slight step towards you.

"Hello, Anon, I wanted to see, are you doing anything currently?"

Oh, that's right. This bitch talks in rhyme.

"Er, I guess not."

She seems to brighten even further.

"Well then, it having fun's your aim, would you like to play this game?"

She nods towards the box on her back. Written on it is a series of strange symbols and letters that you don't quite recognize. It's an odd request, but maybe the poor thing is lonely, like Twilight had suggested. You feel for her on that one, it's difficult being the only one of your kind in an area. Besides, maybe you can get her drunk later and convince her to try to rap. That...could be really entertaining.

"Sure," you say with a shrug. "Why not. What game is it?"

Zecora comes in and sets the box on the table. She begins opening it and sorting out game pieces and dice. The thing looks a little bit like candyland, but more...tribal.

"The name, I doubt you'd understand, but it is one from my native land." she says with a smile and a homey sigh.

Well, that's kinda cool you guess. Maybe this will be fun after all. You sit down across from her and inspect the ancient looking board, as well as it's many cryptic drawings and scribbles. You select a piece that looks like a rhino as your own.

"Ok, how to we play?"

"The rules are simple as time will prove," she says. "You simply roll the dice and move. Then, depending where you land, what happens next could be quite grand."

Yeah, it even sounds like candyland, not your favorite game by a long shot. Still, got to keep an open mind, she is from another culture after all. With a further shrug, you roll the dice. To your shock and dismay, your piece moves forward across the board on its own, with a sickening grind.

"What the shit?"

You stumble back away from the game. In the center, a small orb changes shade and form and there are suddenly strange words written there.

"W-what does it say?" you ask, still a little shocked.

Zecora gazes down at it, grinning rather ominously. Shen she looks up at you, her eyes are practically gleaming. She laughs then, a low, rumbling laugh, like far off thunder. You have enough time to think to yourself that this maybe wasn't such a good idea, before everything goes to shit.

Suddenly, you feel yourself start to disintegrate, starting with your hands. Almost like you're becoming...sand or something! It's excruciating, terrifying, nauseating, and as you look down you see your hands separating into nothing, right before you. It's all too fast! What's going on! For fucks sake, this is why you should never do favors for a fucking unicorn! Over the sound of your horrified screams, you hear the zebra chant a further rhyme.

"In the jungle you must wait, until the dice read 5 or 8."

You try to hold yourself together, try to run, but the game is sucking you in. It's unstoppable, unbreakable. You scream, but even that just turns to sand in the air around you. The last thing you see is the Zebra's face leering down at you, then you're gone.

With a satisfied sigh, Zecora closes up the game board and sets it on her back again. As she leaves, she sings out softly to herself:

"A simple game, as you can plainly see, but how I love playing Jumanji."

Twilight comes home an hour or so later. She looks around cautiously to see if you're there, and when she finds that you're nowhere to be seen, she lets out a heavy sigh. She slumps into a nearby armchair and shuts her eyes, a look of serene peace spreading over her.

"Thank Celestia, he's finally gone," she says in relief. "I'll have to remember to pay Zecora tomorrow. Best two bits I ever spent."

-End-

Twilight Mayor May Not Be Elected

Election Day in Ponyville is quickly approaching, and the town is electric with election buzz. From what you've heard, Mayor Mare is running uncontested...again. Who elese would even challenge her? Well, you get that answer pretty quickly when Twilight approaches you one fine morning, campaign posters in hoof. You look from them, then back to her, then back at them again.

"Twilight...are you running for Mayor?"

She nods, grinning widely and extend the stack of posters to you. You don't take them and just look at her incredulously.

"But...Twilight, you're already a princess. Why would you even..."

"I'm bored, princesses don't do shit but sit around and tell people to do things. Maybe shaming an older mare by beating her at the only thing her curie mark says she's good at will make me feel better!"

Wow, way to be a cunt, Twilight.

"Anyway," she goes on. "Want to be by campaign manager, Anon?"

Huh, now there's a thought. You had intended to masturbate today, but why the hell not?

"Sure," you say with a resigned sigh. "But Spike has to do all the work for me, I'm just going to talk to people and tell them you're not terrible."

Spike opens his mouth to protest, but before he can speak, Twilight is already congratulating you and telling you what exactly she wants done. You watch in muted satisfaction as Spke sighs and slinks away to go make new posters. That's what he gets for eating your sandwich last Tuesday. You don't just forget things like that.

You're off handing out "Vote For Princess Twilight" pins when Mayor Mare first sees Twilight setting about her campaign activities. She's putting up posters along all the walls of town hall, even covering the windows and doors, humming quietly to herself. She doesn't even notice as the current Mayor approaches, and only turns when Mayor Mare clears her throat for the third time. Then at least she does turn and smiles warmly. Mayor Mare smiles back...but less warmly.

"What have we here?" she says. "What are you doing Princess, Twilight?"

Twilight smiles confidently and gestures grandly towards her still dripping, pasted handiwork.

"Oh, just thought I'd put my hoof in the ring for mayor this year. Nothing wrong with a little friendly competition, right? I mean," she goes on, laughing to herself a little. "You're getting old anyway, isn't it time someone else took over for you?

The Mayor smiles slowly until her grin covers most of her face. Twilight smiles back, and begins to chuckle again. Mayor Mare chuckles too. They laugh together, smiling and guffawing away, as the Mayor slowly approaches the princess.

Then, without warning, Mayor Mare leaps forward with a battlecry. Twilight, unprepared, falls to the ground shrieking. Before she can even begin to use magic, the Mayor tramples Twilight's face with her hooves, laughing and crying hysterically. She stomps and stamps until there is nothing but fragments of skull and brain matter.

Citizens stop what they're doing to watch in horror at the Mayor reaches down with her teeth and tears out Twilight's trachea. Someone in the crowd vomits violently at the sound of the mayor grinding through the thick, rubbery substance. She chews it, tears and snot streaming down her face, blending into one sticky mess. Then, with trembling hooves, she reaches down into the mass of red and places Twilight's crown atop her head. As an addition, she plucks out Twilight's severed horn as well, and fixes it to the crown.

"Finally..." she groans in ecstasy over the gurgle of Twilight's twitching form.

The purple princess twitches once more, then lies still.

Panting, the Mayor turns slowly to face the terrified crowd. She spits out Twilight's mangled flesh. A few ponies faint, but most just stand still, parilized by horror. The Mayor'r eyes dance as she looks to each one of them in turn.

"All you little fuckers better realize, there's only one mayor in this town..." she says in a low, menacing voice.

She steps forward and the crowd retreats from her, trembling.

"ONLY. FUCKING. ONE!"

Everyone votes for Mayor Mare during the election.

And where were you for all of this? Why, you were still going door to door. Turns out some power-hungry pony ladies SOMEHOW (wink) heard that YOU were running for mayor. I wonder how they'd hear that? Anyway, you've offered to help their business in exchange for some "extra support." And by support, you mean pussy.

And Spike? What became of him?

Who fucking cares.

-End-

Author's Note

In honor of all this horrible election nonsense, here you go.

Cleanliness is Next To God-awfulness

At last, the rain has stopped, and the sun is shining again. Outside your bedroom window at the castle, you can hear the first birds of spring beginning to chirp out their praise for spring. Yes, spring has indeed sprung, after a long hard winter, and this is a much needed changing of the seasons. For a moment, you're content to just lie in bed, listening to the chirp of the birds, and feel the fresh sunlight playing across your cheek. You leave your eyes closed, somewhere between waking and sleeping, just breathing in the scents of fresh flowers, drying dew, and budding grasses. Yes, it certainly is spring.

...Spring.

Your eyes shoot open and you sit bolt upright in bed.

Holy tittyfucking christ, it's SPRING! The first damn day of spring! With a muted wail of dismay, you toss off the covers and throw yourself out of bed, looking around frantically. The pegasus who moves the clouds was supposed to tell you when this was going to happen! Damn him, now he could have doomed you with this little misstep. Last year, you were lucky to escape with your life, and you know Spike wasn't that lucky. You heard his horrified screams as he was dragged into the bathroom, never to be seen again.

Luckily, your room looks untouched so far. You're not sure how long that's going to last.

You launch yourself to the dresser and grab one change of clothes, a few toiletries, and a decent book, but nothing more. There's no time to be picky, even if that shirt does make you look like the kind of homeless guy who passes out face down on the sidewalk so that no one is sure if they're still alive or not. You grab the first pair of shoes you see, still caked with winter mud. You should really choose different ones or wipe them off, but, again, there's just not enough time. You have to get out of here, now, before it's too late!

With another groan of frustration and fear, you slam your dresser shut and sprint to the door of your bedroom. You open it, trying to still your shaking hands, but you're barely able to grip the knob. Never mind that it's not the first time you've had trouble grasping the knob before, you have to focus. At last, the door swings open, and you go motionless for a second, debating. Do you sneak downstairs, just run, shrieking, and hope you make it? Wait it out?

Something in your brain decides that sneaking might be the best bet. With all the care of a forty year old perv trying to get a glimpse into the high school girl's locker room, you tiptoe down the hall, then walk slowly down the stairs. You're careful to skip the steps that creak, and you pause every so often, waiting to see if you hear any movement from Twilight's room or the kitchen. So far, nothing, but every second you creep down the steps feels like an eternity. At last, you reach the bottom, and turn your steps towards the front hallway.

You're almost free, you tell yourself as you clutch your bag to your chest. You're almost there. Just around this corner and you'll be at the front gate. Then you can run out of there, find someplace to hide, and not come back until...

As you round the corner, you freeze. Your heart stops beating, your mind stops working. You just stand there, quaking in your shoes, as your eyes process what you're seeing.

Twilight stands right in front of the doorway in the foyer. She's facing away from you, but you can see the way her shoulders are heaving up and down. She already has the mop and bucket at her side, and a sponge is levitating in front of her, as if she was just wiping down the door. The whole foyer smells like lemon disinfectant, and sparkles with a menacing, magical glow. There are strange, ratted curls in Twilight's mane, as if nothing else is important right now but that sponge in her enchanted grasp, not even her royal looks.

For a moment, you think that she hasn't seen you, and that maybe you can just sneak away. Then, achingly slowly, she turns to face you, and you drop your packed bag with a gasp and shudder of horror.

Her eyes are wide, pupils dilated to the point where there is no color in her irises. Her teeth are gritted and her lips pulled back to show every last one of them, though you cannot tell if it's a smile or a grimace. Her cheek twitches, flushed with exertion, and beads of dark sweat dot her brow. She's panting hard, and you can hear the hiss of her breath sucking in and out between her teeth.

It's too late. Before she even opens her mouth, you know it's too late.

"Twilight," you say, voice trembling, as you raise your hands in a defensive posture. "Now, just wait a s-"

"SPRING," Twilight says in a breathy cry, "CLEEEEEANING!!!!!!!!!!"

"Jesus fucking christ!" you shout as you turn to run.

"CLEAN!" The mare shrieks behind you. "MUST CLEAN EVERYTHING! EVERYTHIIIIING!!!"

Maybe if you keep running, go from room to room, you can hide until this is over. Maybe you can get away just long enough for her to exhaust herself and then...

You feel the back of your shirt catch, as if it's been grabbed or impaled on a spike. Still in motion, your legs, arms, and head fly forward, then your body crumples to the floor like a rag doll. You scramble to get up, but she's already dragging you backwards.

"You left footprints ON MY CLEAN FLOOR!" Twilight howls. "You're filthy! FILTHY FILTHY FILTHY FILTHY..."

She chants the word over and over again, voice raising in volume and pitch as your hands scrabble uselessly across the marble floor.

"Please!" You cry, looking over your shoulder at the princess, tears beginning to form in your eyes. "I-I'll clean it back up! I'll take a shower, burn off my hair, sanitize my entire wardrobe in the clarification chamber, just please, PLEASE STOP!"

"NO! I MUST CLEAN YOU, ANON! IT'S TIME!"

"It doesn't have to be time! W-what about Winter Wrap Up?"

"NO IT IS TIME! SPRING CLEANING ANON!!!! SPRING CLEEEEEANIIIING!!!!"

You let out a sound like a dying rabbit as you feel Twilight's hooves fall upon you. You struggle, but it's no use. The sponge comes down on your protesting hands, then your face, scrubbing and blinding speeds. The friction bites into your flesh, and you scream wordlessly into the echoing chamber of the castle. No one will come to your aid.

"NOT GOOD ENOUGH!" you hear over the whir of the sponge. "I MUST SCOUR!"

You try to tell her to stop, think of someway out, but there's nothing. There's no way to escape. Before you have time to even pick a pleasant final thought, you see, though tear-filled eyes, the steel wool closing in on you. It's already vibrating with anticipation, and you hold your breath. It's not strong enough to hold back your anguished cries as the steel wool comes down on your cheek, taking your eyelid and part of your lips with it as it moves.

As more of your skin comes off with each stroke, and the blood begins to pour out over the castle floor, you realize that in a way this is your fault. After all, you really should have wiped your muddy shoes.

-END-

Author's Note

And now it's spring time, for Twilight, and all ponies
Winter, for Anon and Spike
Springtime for Twilight, it's time to clean
And it's time for Anon to die

...that is all.

Botlite Sparkle (A Predictive Text Bot's Version of LWTSIW)

Author's Note

I found a predictive text bot. I put in ALL of these stories, and then made the bot write a chapter based on what it got from all those stories. After a little formatting (but not much) this is what it spat out.
...this bot understands me deeply.

Botlite Sparkle (A Predictive Text Bot's Version of LWTSIW)

You can see the bouncing form of pinkie pie at the end of the hall in twilight Sparkle's castle. Twilight has gone out for the day and you thought you were going to be alone. No. Fuck this whole big stupid day. pinkie pie is there in front of you, unrepentant. You try to fathom all this horrible nagging bullshit, but you can’t.

" anon, come out and play with this microbe! " pinkie says with a soft rumbling laugh.

She wrinkles her nose at you and points towards spike. spike screeches with realizing his own useless lizard life. You feel nothing as usual.

" pinkie pie, you know twilight doesn’t like when i take you into the epic woods. " you whisper.

"i'm going to cuddle with addicts in it! " she screams.

You blink back the tears welling up in your eyes, and your mouth drops. You don't have a job ever since you found out what exactly is happening at sweet apple acres, and you are bored. maybe pinkie pie will be fun to be naked with.

"OK, " you wheeze. She jumping on your insides. "Let's go out I guess. "

with that, you open the doors to the world and go out. but that’s when twilight comes rushing into your flesh. she gives you a long sigh and drops you to the floor. you groan in anticipation of all the horrible things that you know must come to you now.

"Anon, i told you never to speak with pinkie pie. She gives ponies all the byproducts of inert gas! " twilight crows at you with gleaming eyes.

"I know. " You cry.

"Hey! What the fuck are you saying? " pinkie asks.

"You traitor of the bathroom, " twilight says slowly to her face. "i'm going to make you really miserable forever. "

The pink pony sobs once more and turns away from you.

"i'm sorry please aaaaahhhhh, " you offer her as she walks away.

twilight glares at you sourly and shakes her head over and over again. This whole production is beautiful looking but also more phallic than expected. Your dick is going to be hardwood. She lets out a low belch and looks down at you with sexual disgust.

"You stupid kinky fuck. " twilight hisses. "you are almost uncomfortably free of thought. I hope you die. "

and that's when you die.

-end-

A Simple Birthday

~*~

You wake to a beautiful birthday morning with a smile, only to find Twilight preparing you breakfast for a change. Well... that is nice of her. If not really strange. Usually she's already plotting some way to experiment on your human flesh or convince you to kidnap fillies.

She turns and gives you this weird... sad smile. You definitely don't like the look of that.

"Heyyyy," she says gently, and approaches you as one might an injured bird, "how did you you sleep Anon?"

You eye her suspiciously.

"Uh, pretty good, thanks."

"No back pain?"

"...no."

"No weird aspiration during the night?"

"...uh, no." You say again, not quite sure where she's going with this.

Again, that sad smile, and a slow nod. Frankly it creeps the hell out of you.

"Good, that's good, Anon. As many happy nights as you can get, right?"

"What?"

"Here, let me get that for you!"

She quickly goes to your side to pull out your chair for you. Then, she even slides a hoof under your armpit to help lower you down. You allow her do it, ready for her to snap your arm at any second. Why? Who knows, it's Twilight.

"There we are," she says, giving you a pat on the arm. "Now let me get you some breakfast, huh?"

"Sure," you say slowly, immediately on guard. "Thanks?"

"Of course," she says, then goes to the stove, "I know it's a very special day for you. Do you remember what day it is?"

"My birthday. Why would I not remember."

"Well, I mean," she says haltingly as she scoops something into a bowl, "I did a little research on you, found out what age you'll be at and... oh, never mind. Just happy birthday."

You watch as she walks back over, sets the bowl down, and pats your hand again.

"I just want you to be comfortable and happy for whatever time you have left."

There's a long pause.

"Twilight, pony years and human years are not the same."

"Shhhhh," she says, petting your hair, "there there. No need to get agitated."

"But..."

She gives you a wink and turns away as you sputter for words.

"TWILIGHT, I'M NOT OLD."

"Hush and eat your cream of wheat," she says chidingly. "Then I'll help you get settled in for a nap."

You open your mouth to protest... then shut it again and sigh.

You know what? A nap actually sounds kinda nice.

-END-

Author's Note

It's my birthday as of ten minutes ago so I wrote like 400 words for it to ring in the day.
...yaaaay.

-pencil