Most Wonderful Time Of The Year!

by Aunty Furby

Rating: mature
Tags: Sex, Tragedy, Queen Chrysalis, Slice of Life, Dark, Sad, Anthro, Drama, Changelings, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other
Length: 3833

Christmas has hit all of terra and Endgame decided he should celebrate christmas instead of Heart Warming To celebrate his coming to Terra and the day his life changed forever!

As We all know (if you read some of my Lost One Book), My character came to Equestria During the Winter Months, and I decided to have another Alternate universe story for it and decided he should Embrace The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year! (With a twist)

( Points to anyone that recognizes the picture )

Published 2017-08-05 10:10:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-08-05 10:10:06 UTC

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year!

“Hey, Chrysalis Can I talk to you for a minute?” I said well walking into the ‘Throne room’ and ignoring the glares of the higher up Changelings

“Most certainly Endgame you may!” she told me in a happier tone than what it was usually “could you all leave for a minute?”
With that, all the other changelings left the room but her and the Guards though they know I wouldn’t do anything because of the impostor incident which I will not get into. “Now, what do you need?”

“Isn’t today the day I showed up?”Is it right?

“Yes?” YES!

“Then that means I get to celebrate something special!” Finally, I remembered that song!

“What are you celebrating...” only The Best Time of The Year!

“Why I am celebrating the best holiday ever!” It’s also the longest! (Under Hanukkah of course)

“What is this holiday...” WHAT!?!?!

*Music stops in the background* “Do you know what Christmas is?”

“No” ...oh

"Welp Chrissy" she sighs at this"Good thing I'm here to tell you!"

"Get on with it..." she says

"Well, Christmas is a time of year where everyone comes together with their families to celebrate its the day where everyone expresses the most joy and love you could ever feel. It also means many different things in other Belief but this is my definition" I told her

"What does it mean in other Belief?" UGH!

"In the Christen belief, Christmas is when They celebrate the birth of the Christ child. God sent His Son, Jesus, into the world to be born. His birth brought great joy to the world." I stop to take a deep breath "Shepherds, wise men, and angels all shared in the excitement of knowing about this great event. They knew this was no ordinary baby. The prophets had told of His coming hundreds of years before. The star stopped over Bethlehem just to mark the way for those who were looking for this special child."

She is now just looking at me confused.

"Want me to make it simpler?"

She nods her head very slowly. why do I have a feeling this is going to be fun...

"Well, you see..." music starts to play in the background as I put on a red top hat and a red cane that looks like a candy cane Grabbing Chrysalis I open a portal through the void to Canterlot Stepping out were in the middle of the street.

"Why are we he-!" I cut her off with a song

"It's the most wonderful time of the year!
With the kid's jingle belling!
And everyone telling you to be of good cheer!
It's the most wonderful time of the year!"

She stares at me as I open another portal walking through with her

Chrysalis POV

Where is he taking me this time!?

Walking through the portal I see him singing the same song with a creature it's all white while wearing a red sweater with white fur outlining and has a lot of red hair? has a weird collar with bells on it and a red tail kinda like a goat without horns

"There'll be parties for hosting!
Marshmallows for toasting!
And caroling out in the snow!
There'll be scary ghost stories!
And tales of the glories of the!
Christmases long, long ago!"

What the Heck is going on...

Endgame's POV

I can't believe I am singing with him. after finishing the song I opened the portal back home and I and Chrysalis entered when we came out I walked to my room what just happened reminded me of something sad.

Chrysalis POV

As he left I could taste the sadness in the air. I should check on him...

Endgame POV

Going into my room I laid down on my bed crying about my childhood and the child I had lost and I just needed to let it out in words woven to make a sad childhood last 9 minutes

"When I was a kid, I hid my heart under the bed because my mother said, "If you're not careful, someday, someone's gonna break it."

Take it from me, under the bed is not a good hiding spot. I know because I've been shot down so many times I get altitude sickness just from standing up for myself.

When I was a kid, I could fill a bookshelf with every different way they would tell me how not to play. They'd say "It's time to start putting childish things away."

And I was like, "Fuck you! This is Skeletor." But more and more they made me believe that our hearts are like door knocks, and that's where we get the sound of a beat.

And I'll never get to meet the man inside me if I can't stand still long enough to be there, I'll never make it anywhere if I keep running away, I'll never know myself if all I ever do is play nikki-nikki-nine doors, don't wanna be a man.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a man. I wanted to register retirement savings plan that'd keep me and candy long enough to make old age sweet.

I wanted two left feet so I could dance circles around important issues until way past my bed time.

I'm not saying I don't have opinions, just that others were less likely to argue if they were as tired as I was, fatigued as to amen what a good night kiss does to kids, it puts weights on our eyelids and returns us to a place where reason and imagination lace together shoes who's tongues stick out at stillness and beckon us to move forward.

As a kid, I was always drawn toward moonlight, despite an armada of adults who insist I must set my days according to sunlight.

I would lay in bed, and fight sleep, believing if I shut my eyes, even for an instant, I would miss out on something amazing.

Turns out I was right. I have seen stars stamped into the night like cookie cutter designs. Drew lines in-between each one, inventing new constellations so that when somebody asked me, "What's your sign?" I could point to mine, the one hanging over the first door past the finish line, and say "It's right there. The one marked exit." Because one day all this getting ahead bullshit will be over, and people will start looking for me, and I'll be there.

I'll wear my best flashing red and you, you will stand winner circle thorough-bred I will un-thread the screws that would put you throughout this life, then smile and say, "You made it."

When I was a kid, I traded in homework assignments for friendship, and gave my friends a late slip for never showing up on time, and in most cases, not at all.

I gave myself a hall pass to get through each broken promise. And I remember this plan, borne out of frustration from a kid who kept calling me "yogi".

Then pointed to my tummy and said, "too many picnic baskets." Turns out it's not that hard to trick someone. And one day, before class, I said "Yeah... You can copy my homework."

And I gave him all the wrong answers that I'd written down the night before. He got his paper back, expecting a near perfect score, and couldn't believe it when he looked across the room at me and held up a zero.

I know I didn't have to hold up my paper of 28/30, but my satisfaction was complete when he looked at me puzzled and I thought to myself, "Smarter than the average bear, motherfucker."

When I was a kid, I slid love letters through the slots of lockers that belonged to my secret crushes, built paint brushes from the tiny hairs that stood on end every time I saw them. My brain stem finally blooming with thoughts, I connected dots and made masterpieces, each brush stroke a thesis dedicated to the explanation that you, not knowing who I was, was only because anonymity made it easier to be brave.

I dipped my brush into a tidal wave I hoped that would one day wash over me. I can guarantee, if you've ever had a secret admirer, it was someone very much like me, who loved someone very much like you.

It was someone who wanted to tell you how much you meant, how every second we spent thinking of you was simply the cost of getting us through the hard times, we saved nickles and dimes hoping our first date would be with you. So with the disappoint of love, we gave up comic books and video games, I promise you, every guy I've ever met remembers the names of the ones they loved first, then our thirst for love continues, as we cross the deserts of maybe, believing we will find an oasis of yes.

Acquiesce, yes... We probably should have just said something, but we were chicken shit. We let the fuses of our hearts explode every time you walked on by.

When I was a kid, I did stupid shit. Ripped the woman's underwear section out of the sears' Christmas wish catalog, and blamed it on my granddad. He did end up covering for me, and had only this to say.

"You're only twelve! So I'm impressed. But take it from experience, don't hide that under your mattress." So I didn't. I hid it in the empty box of a board game that I never used to play.

And on the day that my grandmother eventually found it, she reamed him out for hiding pornography in his grandson's bedroom.

The impending doom of the truth set upon me like a dying sun sending its last ray of light over the horizon, and aimed directly at me.

He didn't say a word. Incurred the full wrath then laughed with me later, saying "It's like your heart. It doesn't matter where you hide it."
Lovers are like little kids lifting up rocks, looking for an insect, they will find that shit.

When I was a kid, I trusted myself enough to know that one day, I'd be a man. One day I would have a childhood for a past and a future for a backup plan, that every gauntlet I've ever ran was a potato sack race, in which time would chase me further towards an ending, I am bending myself back to the beginning, reminding myself there's no winning any race against yourself, slow down.

And when the kid in you falls, turn around, pick them up, dust them off, then continue. Trust me, you are gonna need that kid. You are gonna need someone to remind you that every weed is a flower, just trying to make shit work, that every jerk you ever encounter is just another someone who somehow forgot that it's okay to need a hug. It's okay to be afraid.

When I was a kid, I played hop-scotch with the lines they drew in the sand, landed on the conclusion that second hand clothes at least to the benefit of experience, and I've got one hundred and thirty seven hand heart, broken apart and stitched back together at the seams. I've cartwheeled across balance beams, made from the broken finger bones of people who could not let go of this life.

I still love the night. I love the fact that if you squint your eyes just right, stars look like porcupines of light, stumbling across the dark dipping their quills into the night, trying to write apologies for all of the unanswered wishes from the times we once wished upon them.

Sometimes, I still wish. And most times, I wish I didn't have to. I wish I didn't have to wish.

So I guess what I'm saying is that I hope, I hope I never forget that kid who grew up inside me. He just seemed to laugh a little bit louder, smile just little bit longer, loved a whole lot stronger, world's first official awesome monger, taking awesome from door to door, "Take as much as you need. Don't worry about me, I got more. I've got a candy store filled with whatever it's gonna take to make tomorrow sweet."

I got two left feet and no bed time. I'm still not brave enough to have an orgy, but I rock the slumber party, come nap with me.First one to fall asleep loses, first one to fall asleep wins.

The race stops at the start and the finish line is where it begins so this time first one to lose wins. I know we never meant to turn our hearts to garbage bins. It was an accident.

I know the headlines of us giving up were a misprint, and really just bad reporting. I know we've been boarding up the windows from the outside in, we've been doing it ever since they told us to start letting things go, and I know we got into the habit of throwing everything away, but your heart is a door knock. And every time it beats, it's just that kid's way of asking, "Can you please come out and play?"

After that, I just sat there and cried.

Chrysalis POV

walking up to the door I was about to knock when he started talking...

"When I was a kid, I hid my heart under the bed because my mother said, "If you're not careful, someday, someone's gonna break it."

Take it from me, under the bed is not a good hiding spot. I know because I've been shot down so many times I get altitude sickness just from standing up for myself.

When I was a kid, I could fill a bookshelf with every different way they would tell me how not to play. They'd say "It's time to start putting childish things away."

And I was like, "Fuck you! This is Skeletor." But more and more they made me believe that our hearts are like door knocks, and that's where we get the sound of a beat.

And I'll never get to meet the man inside me if I can't stand still long enough to be there, I'll never make it anywhere if I keep running away, I'll never know myself if all I ever do is play nikki-nikki-nine doors, don't wanna be a man.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a man. I wanted to register retirement savings plan that'd keep me and candy long enough to make old age sweet.

I wanted two left feet so I could dance circles around important issues until way past my bed time.

I'm not saying I don't have opinions, just that others were less likely to argue if they were as tired as I was, fatigued as to amen what a good night kiss does to kids, it puts weights on our eyelids and returns us to a place where reason and imagination lace together shoes who's tongues stick out at stillness and beckon us to move forward.

As a kid, I was always drawn toward moonlight, despite an armada of adults who insist I must set my days according to sunlight.

I would lay in bed, and fight sleep, believing if I shut my eyes, even for an instant, I would miss out on something amazing.

Turns out I was right. I have seen stars stamped into the night like cookie cutter designs. Drew lines in-between each one, inventing new constellations so that when somebody asked me, "What's your sign?" I could point to mine, the one hanging over the first door past the finish line, and say "It's right there. The one marked exit." Because one day all this getting ahead bullshit will be over, and people will start looking for me, and I'll be there.

I'll wear my best flashing red and you, you will stand winner circle thorough-bred I will un-thread the screws that would put you throughout this life, then smile and say, "You made it."

When I was a kid, I traded in homework assignments for friendship, and gave my friends a late slip for never showing up on time, and in most cases, not at all.

I gave myself a hall pass to get through each broken promise. And I remember this plan, borne out of frustration from a kid who kept calling me "yogi".

Then pointed to my tummy and said, "too many picnic baskets." Turns out it's not that hard to trick someone. And one day, before class, I said "Yeah... You can copy my homework."

And I gave him all the wrong answers that I'd written down the night before. He got his paper back, expecting a near perfect score, and couldn't believe it when he looked across the room at me and held up a zero.

I know I didn't have to hold up my paper of 28/30, but my satisfaction was complete when he looked at me puzzled and I thought to myself, "Smarter than the average bear, motherfucker."

When I was a kid, I slid love letters through the slots of lockers that belonged to my secret crushes, built paint brushes from the tiny hairs that stood on end every time I saw them. My brain stem finally blooming with thoughts, I connected dots and made masterpieces, each brush stroke a thesis dedicated to the explanation that you, not knowing who I was, was only because anonymity made it easier to be brave.

I dipped my brush into a tidal wave I hoped that would one day wash over me. I can guarantee, if you've ever had a secret admirer, it was someone very much like me, who loved someone very much like you.

It was someone who wanted to tell you how much you meant, how every second we spent thinking of you was simply the cost of getting us through the hard times, we saved nickles and dimes hoping our first date would be with you. So with the disappoint of love, we gave up comic books and video games, I promise you, every guy I've ever met remembers the names of the ones they loved first, then our thirst for love continues, as we cross the deserts of maybe, believing we will find an oasis of yes.

Acquiesce, yes... We probably should have just said something, but we were chicken shit. We let the fuses of our hearts explode every time you walked on by.

When I was a kid, I did stupid shit. Ripped the woman's underwear section out of the sears' Christmas wish catalog, and blamed it on my granddad. He did end up covering for me, and had only this to say.

"You're only twelve! So I'm impressed. But take it from experience, don't hide that under your mattress." So I didn't. I hid it in the empty box of a board game that I never used to play.

And on the day that my grandmother eventually found it, she reamed him out for hiding pornography in his grandson's bedroom.

The impending doom of the truth set upon me like a dying sun sending its last ray of light over the horizon, and aimed directly at me.

He didn't say a word. Incurred the full wrath then laughed with me later, saying "It's like your heart. It doesn't matter where you hide it."
Lovers are like little kids lifting up rocks, looking for an insect, they will find that shit.

When I was a kid, I trusted myself enough to know that one day, I'd be a man. One day I would have a childhood for a past and a future for a backup plan, that every gauntlet I've ever ran was a potato sack race, in which time would chase me further towards an ending, I am bending myself back to the beginning, reminding myself there's no winning any race against yourself, slow down.

And when the kid in you falls, turn around, pick them up, dust them off, then continue. Trust me, you are gonna need that kid. You are gonna need someone to remind you that every weed is a flower, just trying to make shit work, that every jerk you ever encounter is just another someone who somehow forgot that it's okay to need a hug. It's okay to be afraid.

When I was a kid, I played hop-scotch with the lines they drew in the sand, landed on the conclusion that second hand clothes at least to the benefit of experience, and I've got one hundred and thirty seven hand heart, broken apart and stitched back together at the seams. I've cartwheeled across balance beams, made from the broken finger bones of people who could not let go of this life.

I still love the night. I love the fact that if you squint your eyes just right, stars look like porcupines of light, stumbling across the dark dipping their quills into the night, trying to write apologies for all of the unanswered wishes from the times we once wished upon them.

Sometimes, I still wish. And most times, I wish I didn't have to. I wish I didn't have to wish.

So I guess what I'm saying is that I hope, I hope I never forget that kid who grew up inside me. He just seemed to laugh a little bit louder, smile just little bit longer, loved a whole lot stronger, world's first official awesome monger, taking awesome from door to door, "Take as much as you need. Don't worry about me, I got more. I've got a candy store filled with whatever it's gonna take to make tomorrow sweet."

I got two left feet and no bed time. I'm still not brave enough to have an orgy, but I rock the slumber party, come nap with me.First one to fall asleep loses, first one to fall asleep wins.

The race stops at the start and the finish line is where it begins so this time first one to lose wins. I know we never meant to turn our hearts to garbage bins. It was an accident.

I know the headlines of us giving up were a misprint, and really just bad reporting. I know we've been boarding up the windows from the outside in, we've been doing it ever since they told us to start letting things go, and I know we got into the habit of throwing everything away, but your heart is a door knock. And every time it beats, it's just that kid's way of asking, "Can you please come out and play?"

His sadness disappeared after that but I was too busy walking away thinking about what he said...

Author's Note

I can't believe I made this...

in July...