Live Your Dreams

by Fussbudget

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Anon, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Second Person, Tantabus, Romance, Princess Luna, Moondancer
Length: 11475

Anon/Luna. Cheesy romance, dream magic, and a psychic battle for the fate of Equestria.

The rambunctious but genuinely well-meaning prankster Anonymous would give the world to woo the Night Princess. Sadly, all he has to offer is his sanity. Not used to the attention, she can't say she minds. But while she investigates the differences between human and pony dreaming, she learns of the immense power his kind have in the realm of imagination, and puts him on the path to dream magic. And as their relationship deepens, something else looms over them, ready to threaten not only their happiness but the future of all Equestria.

Warning: the cheesiness is not handled caerphilly.

Published 2017-08-20 15:00:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-08-20 15:00:06 UTC

Fanfare

"Celestia is the goddess of all the light touches!" Sunkiss exclaimed. "All reality is her domain! The moon is but a temporary holder of those things, a reflector of its light and agent of its will as much as any other. If it does a good job, say as much and I will admit it with a clear heart! But if you claim that the moon is equal to or master of the sun, that it holds a greater sway on reality, then that I cannot accept!"

Star Reacher's reply came low-voiced: "Reality is the smallest part of the moon's kingdom."

-Excerpt of unknown origin, reprinted in the "Heavens" section of Ponder Poser's The Great Canterlot Dialogues, 3rd Edition.

You are Anon.

You're living off the grid, taking it to extremes, all because you have a righteous hankering for the best princess.

The only time her magic isn't monitoring dreams is for two hours every midday - you know because you've watched the guard changes. An alicorn using constant magic needs those 120 minutes of rest to get back to 100%. To make sure she doesn't know what you're up to, you have to sleep the same hours.

It's been a week and a half now.

"Anonymous, the moon's coming up!" That's Moondancer, official student of your woman-to-be. Since the Night Princess is pretty hands-off about teaching anything, she earns a living wage for doing independent study. You'd be jealous if you hadn't crashed at her house for the last week.

Soon, you’ll be living in the palace. Going on nightly adventures. Fucking with ponies' dreamscapes...

"Ah, Luna..."

"ANON!" Electricity arcs from Moondancer's horn and zaps you back into reality. She's told you the jolts she uses are calculated to leave no lasting damage, but it doesn't make you look like less of a moron.

"Thanks. What's up?"

"The moon's rising! We've got another forty-eight seconds!"

"Shit!” You leap up and into your day. “Positions!"

She scrunches her face and you're both teleporting, sliding through reality like squeezing through a tight alleyway made of jam. Then you're beneath the highest royal tower. Luna's up there, keeping the cycle moving even now.

"Where's my trumpet?"

Dancer facehoofs, and the golden instrument pops into your hand. Then, in her immaculate wisdom, she teleports to safety.

In the old days, ponies would celebrate the raising of the moon like any other royal function.

It took you a whole day in the library to learn that tidbit. It took several more days to steal this thing and walk here. What you’re saying is that you haven't had much time to practice.

But hey, you were always a natural on the recorder.

You take a deep breath, put your fingers on some holes, and begin to play.

Luna

...Is somepony declaring an insult?

You’re Princess Luna, Ruler of the Night Court, and there’s some sort of infernal racket below you. It’s... certainly some manner of music. Maligning your work with bad play? Your sister tolerates such sauciness in her subjects.

Thankfully, your sister is asleep. You alight and fall to the ground to investigate.

It’s... the human. He reorients the trumpet at you as you land, and plays ever more furiously. Is this some kind of cultural reconciliation? An act of goodwill?

“Anonymous, what are you doing in the presence of the Night Court?”

He finishes spitting and sputtering into the instrument, then pulls it away and takes a deep breath. Then he falls over, unconscious. A glance betrays how deep under he is; he’s not dreaming. It was extremely novel, meeting a species that spent half their sleep resting and half dreaming for the first time.

Whatever he’s doing, it seems harmless, and it could be a few hours before he recovers. You know, more than most, how dangerous the night can be. With a thought, less energy than it takes to actively suppress your magic, you envelop him in a blue field of light and send him up to your tower, stowing him away safely. You’ve already decided to attend to him once your more interesting duties are finished, and as he leaves your influence they begin to present themselves ot you.

Anon

You’re walking to the grocery store in third person. You feel like there's something weird about this, maybe about all of the people walking around you, but you can't quite put your finger on it. Maybe it's the fact that they have fingers too.

The grocery store has ten sub-basements, and each one has a pirate king living in it. You're not sure why you're going, actually. Isn't there something important going on somewhere? Or is that another one of these random feelings?

You watch yourself go inside, but you bump into something. Something solid, not like the background-people walking past you.

"Hello, Anonymous." Your third-person camera reorients, but you already know it's the Princess. She's looking you in the eye.

No. In the camera.

Her horn glows for a moment and suddenly you're inside your own body.

Huh. You guess that's a little strange.

"Hey, Princess. Are you here for the basement quest?" As you ask the question, the details of why you're here become completely apparent, like random letters turning into words. You're here with Luna to get to the tenth basement and show her what's down there. If you thought about it harder you'd know what that is, but who cares, it'll be there.

She looks at you for a moment. Appraising, maybe. Then, a solemn nod.

Luna

Anonymous' dreams are different from your other subjects'. There's a different... texture, perhaps. Time keeps skipping forward, and you can tell that the whole event will be over with in a few minutes, plus everything is far more nonsensical than you're used to.

You remind yourself that Anonymous isn't a creature of harmony.

That said, as a former bearer of the Element of Laughter, you have to walk behind him to hide your smile. Despite the fact that he seems so untempered, he has a rare sense of theatre. In the long run, dreams are typically boring and predictable, even born from the minds of great geniuses.

You don't have your answers yet, but you can get to them in the next dream if this one doesn't pan out. It's not as if he'll remember.

You feel a deep sense of tragedy at that thought. Your subjects remembered all of their dreams. That was why it was necessary to their health that you step in. To have so many dreams in so many directions, like a pony with an illness thrashing on the ground, and then not remember any of them...

You wonder, for a moment, whether Anonymous is merely deeply sick.

But he marches on, oblivious of where he is or how he's accomplishing this, pioneering a path through a hoard of gold coins taller than he is.

...When she's angry, your sister will sometimes call you a Princess of Lies. It's true, your domain conceals things. And dreams are false by nature, but they can be gorgeous falsehoods, just as paintings or odes.

You've argued this many times. But looking at Anonymous, you partly want to grab him, shake him and tell him that he's in a dream.

There's some curiosity mixed with your pity, you admit; you want to know what would happen.

"Alright, we're here!"

Anon

"This is it!" Hands on your hips, you survey your grand destination: your bedroom.

It's as drab and dull as you remember, but it's also full of pieces of your soul. That makes sense, doesn't it? (Ah, whatever, you live in ponyland.)

Luna joins you, looking really surprised. You gesture at the room and turn to her. No bright ideas or compulsions are coming to you right now, so you wait for something to happen.

Her mouth's open. "Anonymous. Are these all aspects of me?"

She's looking at the bits of your soul, probably. They're all bluey. Your sheets and wallpaper match the color scheme. The handful of posters on the walls feature her, too, some lounging at the beach and others in rich battle-armor. And, of course, there's a plushie of her, the one you wish you owned in its perfectly stuffed glory.

"Yup!"

She turns from it to look at you, and then turns back like it'll disappear when she stops seeing it. "Why?"

Well, that's an easy one. "Because you're perfect!"

She doesn't say anything. She's shivering a little, or something.

The room's wobbling a little throughout time, probably. There's a disturbance - like a train switching tracks, and not knowing if you're coming or going. She turns to you and stares into your eyes.

Then, in that moment, she kisses you.

It feels like all of the kisses you had on Earth, but chopped up and woven together somehow, and then she's fading away.

Or maybe it's you.

…

Ugh, you were asleep again. Why didn't Moondancer zap--

Where are you?

This is the palace.

Wait. Fuck. Did it happen already? Did it work? You scramble over to the window and see the sun coming up.

Fuck! You'd better get out of here before the Princess notices you're in her personal space. Gotta hope she didn't think to look inside your dreams and drag out your intentions.

The window's too high to jump out of...

The front doors, then.

As you creep over, they're thrown open.

Luna

"Anonymous of the Humankind, we formally recognize your acts of worship and courtship. We encourage you to continue your work. From now onward, you are under the eyes of the Lunar Court, as official camarilla in the second degree to your Princess. Accept these gifts, or cry not foul of your lot without them."

His expression changed a lot during that, from startled to guilty to eventual adoration.

He looks at his hands for a moment, as if marveling at his fingers. "I must play a mean trumpet."

...

Now, while he tries to woo you in the waking world, sometimes your schedule aligns with his psyche and you can slip into his dreams.

The bedroom isn't always a bedroom, but it's usually a nexus, an ending. Sometimes it's a lovely restaurant, a city street, a thick jungle. And he doesn't always make it there, or know what direction to go in. His dreams can ripple and change without him even knowing. You don't even worry about him remembering your presence any longer, it's clear it gets scrubbed out by the time he's out of bed.

But, despite his lack of memory, he doesn't stand you up every time.Sometimes the ending is happy.

And you think, with a little time, you and this plucky alien could become very close indeed.

Hypnogogia

Luna

You have spent many nights with Anonymous now, though he may never know it, and his affections are... touching. As a camarilla in the second degree, he is allowed to advise you on any matter that does not involve the taking of life, but he has yet to make any suggestions. He knows you, and your work, but seems only out to spend time with you. Not even lust seems to drive him, howevermuch lewdity you’ve found in his undercurrents.

No, whatever might be said about him, there is no insincerity in him. Especially not in his eyes.

You’ve grown guilty, in the last dreams, as you’ve spent more and more time with him. Guilty at the moment of realization, when part of him knows he’s having a dream with you in it. The dream itself, the wider structure of Anon, seems to tingle at your arrival, but he never remembers.

You feel more and more that you need to tell him, even if his awareness will be fleeting. And, you admit to yourself, your curiosity has not abated since the first time you considered his dreamscape.

You’re walking along a dirt road with him along some sort of plain, dotted with orchards and husbandry-grounds, when you turn to him. “Anonymous... you are in the middle of a dream right now. This world and these events are not real.”

Realization flickers in his eyes at that.

”What? Wh- really?” He starts looking around, almost spinning on the spot.

The scenery distorts, plains becoming mountains that stretch like beaten dough into the air and shimmering into different colors. There’s a great rushing in the air to match it, and you’re sure you’ve reached a breaking point.

Anon

You’re dreaming, you’re dreaming!

And Luna’s here!

She was even kind enough to point out that you were dreaming, so she’s a pretty considerate version. Okay okay, focus. Focus! Where are you?

You don’t remember whatever you were doing earlier, but there’s too much going on here. The dream’s trying to buck you off, and you don’t want to wake up now. Who knows when you’ll have a chance like this again?

If your mind’s inventing Lunas to tell you you’re dreaming, it’s got your best interests at heart, so you wave your arms as magically as you can, and the world recollapses into a street.

Suburbs, midday. This is the street you grew up on, although someone played Yahtzee with the houses and the road fades away into a mirage at either end of the row. Luna’s still there, and you’re glad for a moment that you didn’t lose her. She looks a little dumbfounded at her new surroundings, though.

You wonder what the real Luna would think of you dreaming her likeness. It can’t be that uncommon, you’re sure.

”Anonymous... how did you do that?”

“Do what?”

She glances around, waving a fetlock idly at the scenery.

“Oh, the change? Well, since I know I’m dreaming, I’m going to make the most of it. So I wanted someplace to think. Thanks for that, by the way.”

She looks seriously surprised about that.

“What?”

”That... shouldn’t be possible.”

Luna

Anonymous is confused. He seems almost concerned for you.

“I thought your kind had no inborn magic.”

He shrugs. ”You thought right. We don’t.”

“Then... then you couldn’t have done this. Everypony has a piece of dream magic inside themselves that gives them some control, but such a sudden shift is unthinkable for a first try, no matter how great the potential.”

He grins. ”Heh. I can do better than that!”

With a wave of the hand, you’re both floating upwards. Then, as quickly as he cancelled it, he reinstates gravity. Another wave and three houses sprout chicken legs and run off into the distance. Overhead the sky strobes through a rainbow of ugly colors. The chaos of it all is terrifying.

This is a level of control you had to exert yourself to achieve, in your first decades of work. He’s cackling as he rises into the air, the ground sprouting pumpkins that get up and start tangoing.

“Anonymous!” He doesn’t seem to notice you any more.

The houses are melting. Everything’s melting. You know from experience that the dream is fading, and he’s going to forget what’s happening in a moment. With not inconsiderable effort, you activate your own magic and raise its volume over his.

“ANONYMOUS!”

Everything resets, and he’s back on the ground with you.

”Wh-, how-...” Something clicks. ”Is it really you?”

“It is.”

He scrambles to improve the decor, the buildings coated in gold, gemstones and distant images of you. The sun explodes overhead, dissipating into a thousand shreds of light, and then the moon swings into the crown of the sky.

Your constellations are almost perfectly represented. It warms your heart, to see such tribute.

Anon

Fuck that’s the real Luna, you should’ve known, shouldn’t act like such an idiot in front of your princess. She’d barely seen you for weeks now while you worked in the wings, and this was the impression you wanted to leave her with?!

You try to improve the suburbs as quickly as possible, but you’re just making them worse so you give up. She’s looking at the sky when you turn back to her, hands behind your back.

”S-sorry, I had no idea, I though you were- not that I couldn’t-”

She shakes her head. “There is no need to apologize, camarilla. The Court merely wished to examine your dreaming ability. You have exceeded our expectations.” She smiles, walks close and leans in closer. Her voice is soft.

Is she going to kiss you, fuck, what if your mouth turns into a squid or the world explodes or something? Dreams have too many fucking variables for this sort of thing, fuck dreams.

”If you learned to control your talents, you could perhaps spend some time in our company on our rounds through the dreams of our other subjects.” Hot damn.

Then she kisses you: a peck. The most memorable peck of your life.

Then she turns and departs into the night, disappearing among the stars.

Moondancer

You’re Moondancer, student of the Lunar Court. The student of the Lunar Court, more precisely. It’s not a very big court, given its nature; most of the members are either so long-lived they joined before the Nightmare Moon incident or wild-eyed fledgling acolytes. Moving up in the ranks is a little difficult, but there’s a lot of room for expansion.

A few years ago one of your friends became Celestia’s big student. She left, and you never really saw her again. There’s a kind of symmetry to following her example, you think. You’ve certainly learned a lot about magic, and your Princess doesn’t tell you to clean up, so you’re happy.

But part of the job is hosting whenever Anonymous has to crash at the house your ruler-goddess is paying rent for, and he’s been here for three weeks now. You met the guy during an interest-binge on exotic creatures, and you got along alright. But there’s something just... goofy about him.

Like right now. He’s sleeping on your couch, which is half his size. His legs are bent up so his feet rest at the top, and his face is buried into the cushioning away from the rest of the room. There’s a pillow between the rest of his body and the couch, and it’s not one of yours.

He murmurs in his sleep, but nothing you can make out. Wherever he was living in Ponyville, they don’t seem to have missed him.

You were originally helping him out because you wanted to see what would happen, but it seems almost like... well, like Luna really does want him to keep it up. You have no idea why, but if you had to guess, you’d say she just has a thing for dreamers.

But his shoulder’s on your pizza box, and there were, like, probably some leftover cheese and toppings inside you could scrape into an omelette. Your daily half-hour for eating is running out, and you’re fresh out of spaghetti, and you skipped yesterday to finish cramming on pony-donkey trade relations. You swear, there’s got to be a little in there.

If you just pry it out... an inch at a time…

”AGH, YES PRINCESS!” He jerks awake, his body attempting to jump to its feet. Instead he topples and crashes on his knees to the floor, bouncing pieces of looseleaf and errant receipts into the air.

Still clutching the pillow, he rubs his eyes with it and then snaps his gaze to you. ”Oh, Moondancer. Good thing you’re here. I need you to teach me dream magic.”

You sigh. “Of course you do.”

Oneironautics

Anon

You’re moving up in the world! And in your sleep, too. With just a little training, you’ll be surfing the mental waves with your immortal moonbutt waifu. Take that, Mom!

The only problem is that you have to wear an itchy magical necklace for Moondancer to link up with you. She’s told you it’s just for introductory work, at least. You’ve also been keeping a dream journal to improve your recall, on the Princess’ request. Moondancer zaps each entry to Luna as soon as it’s written.

Unfortunately, Luna hasn’t appeared in any more of them, in person or otherwise. Which really undermines everything nice she said about your abilities; if you were actually so talented, you’d dream about her nonstop.

At least you can wait and fine-tune your latest project; rushing those out so often didn’t always work out for you. For instance, trying to grafitti her likeness in whipped cream on the side of the palace got you arrested and made the castle kitchenstaff glare daggers at you.

But now, here’s Moondancer, come to aid your sorry ass. You can feel her worm her way inside your psyche - it’s like someone reading over your shoulder from all directions.

It took some schedule-rearranging for her to be here. She usually sleeps fifteen minutes every hour as part of her studies, and it took a big ritual to make sure this wouldn’t jeopardize that. Beyond that, this looks a lot like her house and she looks a lot like herself, but you’re getting hella excited. You can hear the Rocky music already.

"Knock that off."

"Oh, right." You switch off the ambience. "Sorry."

Moondancer

It’s Anon’s first jaunt on the astral plane, and he’s sailing through the air. “Hahaha!”

“Anon, get down here!” He’s like a foal discovering nudie mags for the first time.

You’d agree, it can be a beautiful sight, the blue-grey void and its endless spiraling clouds of dream-magic. (Which, as the learned know, is merely a tamed form of astral magic.) But dreams only exist here while ponies are dreaming; it’s noon, and the Solar Court is wide awake.

You have to do it now for Anon’s sake, because unfortunately he can’t break his new sleep-schedule. You could fix that, if he’d just let you do some tests on his central biochemical oscillator, but noooo.

He’s practically bouncing off the walls, too. ”How do we get into one?”

“You just jump in.”

He launches himself toward the nearest one.

“Wait!” You try to grab him in your telekinesis, but it doesn’t register. In a moment, he’s disappeared.

You smack your hoof to your forehead. If you’d approached from the right angle, this would be an endless hallway of doors. Maybe then he could’ve suppressed his sense of wonder for a few minutes.

You follow him.

Anon

This is your first time in someone else’s dream. It looks a lot like Canterlot at night, redone from memory.

Groovy, no nightmares. Moondancer said something about those being dangerous, how dying in someone else’s dreams can kill you in the real world.

You wonder if you can change things here like in your own dreams. Like... making it brighter!

The moon enlarges. That’s better, but what about...? You wave your hand, and the mistake-buildings warp and correct themselves.

”Anon!”

You turn around. “Oh, hey, Moondancer. What’s u-”

She looks like she’d been through a windstorm. ”Stop changing things! You can’t alter the narratives of dreams without direct intervention, they are how they are to facilitate the personal growth of the dreamer!”

“Oh. Uh...”

You turn back and put the buildings right again. You leave the moon how it is, though.

“Sorry.”

”Don’t run off any more!”

“Yeah. Okay, sorry.”

She’s rubbing her face with her hoof. It’s funny, you’ve never seen someone look exhausted while they’re asleep.

”Just come on. I’ll teach you proper protocol in the astral.” She conjures a door.

”...h-help”

What was that?

Moondancer

Anon’s doing the look-everywhere thing again. Is he checking for something...?

“Pay attention!”

”No, I... I heard something.”

Heard something? You pause and focus your senses on the dream.

”it’s coming to get me”

Yes, faint, but there it is. This isn’t a good dream.

“This is nightmare territory. We need to get out of here.”

He looks down the street. Out of an alleyway, a filly’s peering her head out. She’s a unicorn, lemon-colored.

Anonymous moves closer. ”What’s coming to get you?”

You try to grab him in your magic, but it fails again. He was right that he was powerful, at least. You have to gallop ahead to stop him, standing between him and the kid. “None of this is real, Anon. The only ones in danger are us.”

He grimaces, then looks around you at the filly. She cowers while she talks.

”I’ve been s-s-sick all week. M-my, h-h-h..."

”Your what? What’s the matter?” He’s getting way too into this.

She sniffles, and chokes back a sob.

”We’re dream travelers, we can protect you from whatever it is.”

The dam breaks, and she starts crying. ”H-h-h-HOMEWOOOORK!” She runs over to Anon and wraps her fetlocks around his leg, shaking with tears.

He turns to you, grim-faced. Whatever he sees in your expression, it doesn’t deter him.

”Where’s the homework?”

She sniffles and looks up at him. ”Everywhere.”

Moonlight sweeps over the streets, fully illuminating them. The buildings are papered with worksheets on thaumic algebra. Textbooks you recall fondly from your own foalhood are floating in the air with bat wings and gnashing teeth.

Oh, Filly’s Guide to Computational Harmonics, what have they done to you?

Anon

You’re in some deep shit. You can still see the doorway Moondancer made from here, but it would be a long run. Papers are falling off of the buildings, piling up like rain, and there’s about to be a flood.

Okay, shit, shit, think! You wave your hands and ignite the paper.

Except nothing happens.

”There’s no use, Anon! The stronger the nightmare, the more fixed it is in place. We have to get out!” Moondancer cries over the swell. The paper crashes as it flows down toward the three of you.

The filly hugging your trouser-leg is still crying. You can’t leave her.

“Can we take her out with us?”

Moondancer shakes her head. ”We’re not licensed to make extractions.” You wave your hand again and concentrate while she continues, ”I told you it won’t work, there’s-”

A ball of candleflame breaks out into the sea. Some of it burns, but not enough. Moondancer looks surprised, but you can’t pay attention to her right now.

You bend down to the filly and lower your voice. “What’s your name?”

She murmurs without looking up at you. ”K-Kitty. Kitty Corner. Don’t leave, please don’t leave...”

A textbook flies for you. You ignite it, and your luck holds again. It takes something out of you, though.

“We won’t. Promise. Now, come on!” You scoop her up and sprint doorward. On cue, the waves start chasing you.

The filly’s heavier than you expected, but you can bear it. Moondancer’s following at your side, panting and trying to nag you about something.

You duck into the nearest alleyway, a dead-end. Outside, the papers floods past. Above, the buildings get taller and taller. You can feel the active lack of something inside you.

The more you struggle, the weaker you get.

Moondancer

Anon has an impressive amount of power, definitely more than you, but it doesn’t matter. Things have gone from fucked to downright corybantic.

Your only hope is to wake up the kid and hope you get ejected somewhere better. Getting lost in the astral could be a lot more dangerous, but Anonymous decided all of this for you, so you don’t feel bad about it.

You’re not going to die smothered in math problems. At least, not ones you can solve.

They’re starting to swarm into the alleyway even now. The three of you have backed up to a brick wall, so your chance is coming. If you can just wrestle her from Anon, you can throw her into the homework and she’ll wake up. You’ll just have to distract him for a moment.

“Anonymous, why don’t you give me-”

He smiles cockily over his shoulder at you, and speaks with total confidence. ”One second, Dancer. I’m going to get rid of these things.”

...He can’t be serious.

The filly’s buried her head against his chest, and he’s holding her with one arm while he gestures with his free hand.

All of the paper in the alley shreds itself.

Kitty turns and peeks out of one eye as he shouts, ”All of them at once!”

He waves, and the alleyway opens up, the buildings parting. ”I’ll show you not to mess with sick fillies!”

You can feel his magic, and it’s gone. What he just did took the rest of it. Even if you weren’t able to measure it, you would see his legs shaking. He has to know that he’s fresh out, which means the only pony here who doesn’t already know you’re doomed is the one who’s going to wake up fine!

”Now, here comes the summoning!”

Kitty stares up at him, transfixed. In the moonlight, bravado flares up in his face. His palm is up, facing the roiling, oncoming mass which has grown taller than some of the buildings now.

You’re about to yell at him to give it up already when the ground starts rumbling.

The pavement cracks, and out of it climbs something massive.

Anon’s face is twisted in total determination while Kitty stares at the unfolding monster. It’s Cerberus, a beast thrice Anon’s size, and it keeps growing as it paws its way out of the earth. Soon, it’s the size of the buildings.

You have no idea how he accomplished that.

It rears up and howls to the moon, then snaps its jaw out and scoops up a boatload of the paper.

It’s... eating them?

In a moment it repeats, plowing into the white ocean. It knocks the textbooks away without noticing them. The rest of the paper scatters, pushing weakly against the monster and failing. In a few moments, the problem’s nothing but tatters and upside-down answer keys.

How...?

Kitty looks up at Anonymous as he sets her down. ”H-how did you do that?”

”I didn’t! You did!” He boops her nose. ”My magic didn’t work, but I figured yours would. I just needed you to believe in me enough to lend me some.”

She looks spellbound. ”I-I did that?”

He nods and points. ”Look!” You both follow the trajectory of his finger.

In the commotion you must have missed the flash, but you can feel that it isn’t a figment of dream. On her flank, there’s an image of a whip and a chair.

Anon

You did good today, but you’re wiped out. Moondancer’s cancelled your lesson, and you’ve returned to the big blue nowhere place.

”We’ll continue the next time you sleep. Keep out of trouble until then, alright?”

“Sure, but... uh...”

”What?”

You point straight up, to the highest point of the dream-clouds. “What’s that?”

It’s a cloud like the others, except it’s thicker, red and angry, the size of ten or twenty put together.
Black brambles snake in and out of it, covered in needle thorns. It looks like it’s about to rain blood.

”Oh, that. That’s Luna’s dreamscape.” She sees the look on your face. ”It always looks that way. And entering is punishable by death, so if you go in I’m not coming with you.”

God, okay. Dancer’s never going to let you live this down, is she?

You’re too tired to do anything else today. But still…

What would make someone’s dreams look like that?

Luna

It has been many days since you last had Anonymous’ company. The feeling of impatience is a rare sensation for you.

Still, even his dreams must now be closed to you. No Princess of the Night would play voyeur to the comings and goings of her officials. Not that you feel guilty for your previous visits; it is your duty to learn the hearts of all your subjects. If perhaps, at times, it is also a pleasure, what god or mortal should slight you for it?

Such discomforts are beneath you.

You are due to meet with Anon in your domain soon, to measure his progress. First, though, your rest.

Sister needs more than you, at times a full night’s worth. She has done much in the last centuries, and only now is she ceding her gathered influence to you. If she were mortal, you would say she had shaved years off of her life.

You have been long overdue. A familiar feeling of guilt washes over you.

Yes, it’s time for your rest now.

Contrary to popular belief, you did not spend a thousand years on the moon. If you had, the villains you had helped banish would surely have broken out before your return. No, you were sent there by your sister’s power, banished for a time beyond mortal life. But, for much of your banishment, your domain was open to you - your stars lay out for the arranging.

You could have escaped, given time. It was merely many centuries before you chose to. Clearly, your sister had kept prepared all of that time.

You can’t fathom the number of lives that had to be spent preparing defenses for you, waiting any moment for news of your travel back to the mortal world.

To say you were biding your time, or didn’t see the point in it, would be to give you too much credit. The moon simply... altered you. Your stars were a part of Equestria’s atmosphere, distant and warm compared to that endless pockmarked grey. Out that far, there was only darkness, your sister’s Sun, and the world between you.

Never close enough to block that sunshine, that one light in the endless black. You spent time immemorial on the dark side, staring out into the nothingness at the furthest, most alien point of the universe. You wondered, if you flew off into it, if perhaps you would eventually find another world, or if you would simply drift, soundlessly, forever.

It was fear of being lost that drew you back to the sunlight, and eventually to your sister’s kingdom.

Now your kingdom too, again. Maybe one day you’ll earn it again. It’s time for another step in that direction, at least.

You sever all means of control and defense as you slip out of consciousness.

Sometimes you give yourself some leeway in the dream. Most often not. It is a surrending, after all. Sometimes there are words, but they are only for your benefit, and this time there are no such formalities.

You sit on your throne as always - the throne you once held as equal to your sister. And it arrives, in its amorphous squalor, like any well-bred animal. It hangs in the air for long enough to dim the room further, a looming presence of corruption.

Your corruption.

It taints you, and you feel all over again the sweetness of power, taken from the memories you burned into your mind staring into the emptiness. With it comes the lack of control, the hatred, the disinterest.

The Elements come to stop what you’ve become. You disarm them easily, and force them asleep. Tormented by nightmares, they will never wake up, never know the safety of a solid, static realm again.

It is your fervent hope that these events never comes to pass. But here, in total privacy, it rehearses them through your body, driving the horror into you. You conquer the world, imprison your sister, and soon the earth grows grey and cold as life itself fades.

It kills the dreams, and finally sated, it abandons you. Trapped, again.

Forever.

...You wake up, rub your eyes, and get back to your duties.

Anon

You can access the astral plane without help now, and you have a better idea of your power. In dreams the trick to success against the odds is creative thinking.

And you’re a pretty creative guy, if you say so yourself.

Luna’s just flown out of her dream-cloud. It clears up into something peaceful as it shrivels, casting little rays of moonlight in random directions. Then, curled in on itself, it winks out of existence.

”Anonymous. We are pleased to see you again. The Court hopes you have made sufficient progress in harnessing your potential.”

There’s something especially spellbinding about her up close. It’s in the eyes, maybe.

You bow your head. “Yes, Princess, I’ve trained and tested myself every day.”

She’s smiling. ”You have done better than even we had expected, Anon. To endow a cutie mark in a dream is a feat of tremendous magic.”

Kitty Corner had sent you a letter about that, once she found out Moondancer’s address. It was short, but written better than you would’ve done as a kid. It turned out her talent was beast-taming - she wanted to tame the real Cerberus one day, and make it eat her teacher.

That had nearly given Moondancer an aneurysm.

”Now, we have need of you on our rounds. There will be many more dreamers joining us this evening, and they must all be tended to.”
Your waifu’s inviting you to spend personal time fighting nightmares together.

What’s cooler than being cool?

Biting back your excitement, you nod and try to stop smiling. “I’m on it.”

ICE COLD!

Luna

The next hours pass well in the astral. Normally you would just use your magic to occupy all of these dreams and help where needed, but you’re still asleep now. After all, it’s important to treat your advisors respectfully. The work of waking life can wait a while longer.

You know that your awakening will be rejuvenating for the first time in ages, and it lends a deep joy to your actions.

You find little of threat in the dreamscapes you come across. That which you do discover, though, you grind to paste. Your methods are subtle and effective, old favorites. His are frenzied and ridiculous, never the same twice; he still enjoys the novelty.

In transit, you talk about idle things. He is full of the most amusing stories, but apart from that, your work is uneventful.

Eventually you come to a final stop, floating around the last of the portals.

”Whose is this?”

“This one belongs to Timber Tally. He’s been waiting for a while for us, I’m sure.” You enter, and the cottage is as cozy as ever. “Timber? I’ve come with the news!”

No answer. He must be out on a walk.

You take a seat at his dining-room table. Then you wave Anon over, and he joins you.

Anon

”So, camarilla, tell me: what new scheme do you have planned to capture the affections of your Princess?” Her eyes are dancing. Or twinkling. Both.

Your heart starts pounding. You make it knock it off before it gets out of hand. “Trade secret, Princess. I reveal my tricks, but not until after I do them.”

She laughs. ”Of course. Don’t fear, your Princess won’t invade your mind to find out. We greatly enjoy surprises. They have such spontaneity!”

Her voice is even more wonderful when she’s smiling. She could be reciting Bingo numbers and it would hypnotize you.

“Y-you’re always welcome, if you want to visit.”

She seems pleased by that. Before she can answer, though, the door opens.

”Princess!” The husky voice belongs to a stallion. A unicorn with a stone-colored pelt, dulling blue mane, a mark of a stump and a checklist. Old. Old-old. Hella grandfatherly.

”It’s good to see you again, Timber. The Summer Sun Celebration is coming up.”

He chuckles and snorts at that. ”Come to offer me another front-row seat?”

Luna straightens up a little. ”If you simply allowed a bit of surgery..."

”Agh! I don’t believe in those quacks and you know it!”

You feel very lost in this exchange.

He picks up on that, somehow, and turns an eye to appraise you. ”Who’s the squirt?”

”Anonymous, of the Humankind. My knight in training.”

He squints. ”Finally getting yourself some fetishes, then?”

”Don’t change the subject, Timber. I know how much you love the sun and so do you.”

He waves a hoof at the view out the window, a warm spring morning. ”I’ve got all the sun I need right here. Now tell me the news or get gone, I’ve got turnips to water.”

Luna

Anonymous doesn’t speak until after you’ve both left. It’s the hallway of doors, now; you’re talking the long route back to wakefulness.

”...Why did we go there?”

You turn to him. “Timber has been in a coma for the better part of a decade. He can leave any time he wants, but not without cost. He has no wife or children here, and chooses instead life as a hermit.”

He ponders that. ”Why were you trying to convince him to wake up, then? And why tell him about current events?”

“Because it is my duty to try. And if a pony chooses to live in my domain exclusively, it is my role to keep them from harm.”

His expression changes, becoming unreadable. For a time, you walk in silence, wondering what his response will be. ...Or, perhaps, if he has no response after all.

”I love you.”

In a shock, something grips your heart and holds it fast. You almost fall over. He, on the other hoof, keeps walking. His nonchalant gaze is directed toward appreciating each passing door in turn.

“Anon..."

He turns to you. ”Yeah, I kn-”

One wing extended, you sweep him closer.

Your kiss starts hastily this time, and deepens after a few seconds.Neither of you are very experienced. His hands, at first held up in startled surrender, rest on your withers and gently rub them.

After a moment, you break the contact. You’re both equally breathless.

There’s no way for you to follow that, so you excuse yourself. “Goodnight, Anonymous.”

He nods. ”Y-y, uh, t-...” He nods again, then makes a fist and presents his thumb to you.

You fly off, back to your dreamspace. It’s going to be a good morning.

???

A dark half-space, a confluence of possible architectures. The area where dreaming gets folded up and stood in the corner by the waking brain. An occupant, among the potentials.

You’re intimately connected with the mind of your victim. New symbols are flashing within it, new meanings which you understand only through her memory.

An alien, draped heavy in sentimentality. A two-way connection to immense dream magic.

Be the Tantabus.

You’ve just found your way out.

Deicide

Anon

It’s been a few days. You haven’t seen Luna since your last meeting, so when you hear her voice, you pay close attention.

”Aaagh, Anonymous! Please, anypony! Anypony at all!”

You’re out on the astral plane, looking at the dream-clouds. Hers is red and thorny as ever, and the scream fills the realm. Something’s wrong.

You get a running start and leap up for her dream. The voice has lowered to a mewl now, and it takes few moments of flying through the air to reach it. Then you collide, with a nasty wet sound.

The cloud doesn’t let you in. You pound at it, dipping your hands into the redness. It doesn’t budge.

“Luna, Luna are you in there?”

The voice comes back, faint. ”Anonymous?”

“Luna, I’m coming!”

”Oh, Anonymous, please, please help me!”

You gather your strength and reach into the cloud. It’s pushing against you, like a current, but you push your way inside. First your arms, plunging up to the elbows… Then you worm your way in, ignoring the thorns and the blood. If it is blood - it’s tasteless.

Finally you’re completely inside, and the sounds of Luna’s weeping surround you. You swim blindly for the center, relying on your intuition. Eventually you hit something small, tough, spherical, maybe the size of a beach ball. You press your way into it, and something gives.

When you arrive, it’s in a big regal chamber. You fall some distance, gather your bearings, and immediately find her. She’s at one end of this doorless room, observing you from a throne, and she looks much more serious than usual.

You rush over. “What’s wrong, Princess? What do you need?”

She smiles. ”Oh, nothing, Anonymous. I think you’ve done more than enough.”

A lance of psychic pain explodes in you. Luna smirks - no, whatever’s using her face smirks - and then her image disintegrates.All that remains is the shadow, and it flows upward. As you fall to the ground, your eyes follow its path.

At the ceiling, where you fell in, an ugly bubbling redness gleams through a tear in the dream. It slips out, and with its passing something lightens. You’re alone, and beyond confused.

...No. No, you can hear something. It’s faint, but within the room. The acoustics make it hard to pinpoint, so you change them. ...There it is. A weak snuffling, a keening. Despair. You get up to your feet and walk to the source.

Behind the throne is Luna. The real Luna, you can feel the sincerity of her being. She’s laying on the floor, curled into a ball, not noticing you as black armor appears and fades on her body in a slow, indecisive flicker.

Moondancer

You’re taking your fifth microsleep of the day when you feel armageddon coming.

Your own dreams don’t interest you very much - too abstract and cramped for your tastes - but you can see the effects on the astral itself. Everything’s turning red. There are little pools and trickles of blood bursting and flowing from your Princess’ dream.

They create a haze in the air that would’ve been horriby unpleasant if you had to breathe. When they touch other pieces of dream-magic, they boil and distort, becoming swollen ugly things. There aren’t many dreamers right now, the waking world is still very much awake, but the lack of targets only helped the spread.

You could see Anonymous’ dream-magic, floating dizzily in orbit around the Princess’. He’d gone in, hadn’t he? If he was responsible for this you were going to throw him into the astral yourself.

It’s heading for your dream now. You make to fend it off with magic, but it redoubles its efforts. Crashing against your energy, gaining in power slowly but noticeably. It doesn’t take long to exhaust you.

And then, as it touches your own astral real estate, you feel it tainting you. Your breathing becomes more ragged. If you left this nexus, you’d be having horrible nightmares.

They’re waiting for you now, pressing up against the boundaries of your own sleeping mind. And, with them, something more malevolent. You sigh; this is really going to throw off your schedule.

Luna

Anonymous is standing over you like a parent, bent and reaching out. He does not touch you; he cannot tell if it will help.

You cower and flinch away from him. You don’t deserve that. Even the slightest show of affection is too much for you.

The Tantabus has fled you. It’s been trained in the gathering of power and the destruction of worlds, trained daily for years. You have been an intolerable fool, and now, without recourse, it has left you with your own worst fear.

The pathetic sounds you make are in memorial to yourself. Nightmare Moon wells up inside of you, even now.

For a brief window, the option of penanced was afforded you. You could exist in the world without being its enemy. And it was a nice dream, but dawn is breaking now, and it’s a harsh, angry thing.

You hope your subjects will forgive you. You hope your sister will stop you.

”Luna..." He finally rests a hand on your cheek. The touch is calming. You can think, slightly.

He needs to escape, if he can. “Go, Anonymous.” Your royal voice, used as a megaphone to bait a trap, cracks under the pressure of the words.

He shakes his head. ”Tell me what’s happening. How can I help you?”

It’s too late, you complete fool. You feel Nightmare Moon washing over you, and another part is lost to her riptide. “Anonymous, Anon, I- I don’t want you to see me become this.”

He comes closer. ”Nightmare Moon?”

It almost shocks you that he knows. He’d seen pictures and heard tales, of course he had, but he had never mentioned them, not once.

You close your eyes and nod quickly, like a child agreeing to an injection. In that moment of weakness, you keep talking. “I’m sorry, Anon. I am so sorry I couldn’t keep it under control. I made the Tantabus to punish myself for my misdeeds as Nightmare Moon, but I only put Equestria in further danger by my own recklessness. Truly, I do not deserve to be called ‘Princess’.”

His hand stops moving. ”Don’t say that.” His voice is firm even though his touch is gentle.

You make a humorless laugh. “Whatever you love about me, Anonymous, it will disappear from the world soon. I will become something dark, cold and hateful. I would rather you lived the rest of your life without witnessing it.”

His expression shifts. He doesn’t want to believe you.

“Please, Anon.” You struggle to hold off the armor, but it fades onto your features for a final time. A thousand-year companion, friendly as a cage.

Goodbye, Equestria.

"No."

Warmth? Anonymous, the human, he is-- holding you. His arms drag you close to him, pressing into your armor. If he feels the cold he makes no sign.

You are helpless in this instant, caught between losing your power and marshalling it anew. He looks into your eyes, which gleam now with disdain for him, for his touch, for anything in him that would motivate these actions.

”I still love you, Luna. I don’t love you for who you’ve been in the last few years. Your anger, your demons, your awkwardness, they all help make you perfect. Just trying to answer for your mistakes makes you a better Princess than you believe. There aren’t many humans who would do that.” He ignores your hooves digging into his knees, pushing against his body. ”Nightmare Moon is just another part of you. And... if that part took over, it wouldn’t change anything for me. You are the terror of the night and all the wonders it can create all at once, and -that’s- what makes you so beautiful. That’s why I love you. I could never turn that away.”

And then he leans in.

No! Filth! Unworthy! You twist away, but he holds you tight. Nothing with so much blood in its veins should dare-

He kisses you.

Something spreads inside you, coiling around your skin. You realize you can feel your skin again.

The armor buckles and cracks, and he draws you closer. Your power wanes, recoiling and withdrawing into itself, flinching into the darkest parts of your heart.

But it’s not far enough. It - you - Nightmare Moon - cries out as it feels that love.

The love it doesn’t deserve. The adoration it craved so long, long ago. Anathema.

And you, Princess Luna of the Lunar Court, return to yourself in your knight's embrace.

Anon

Looks like your Chinese cartoons taught you something after all.

Nightmare Moon is gone, or hiding. You feel bad about that, because you didn’t want to hurt her, but Luna’s recovering. She speaks, once she has the voice.

”Tantabus.”

Oh, fuck, right. “How do we stop it?”

”I-I don’t know. I did not create it to be stopped, only to gain power and create misery. Even the Elements of Harmony were not enough to stop it, it destroyed each in turn. If it gains too much power, nothing in Equestria will be able to deter it.”

Her wings are twitching at her sides with nervous energy. You reach over and smooth one back down, putting on your most confident smile.

“I guess it’s a good thing we’re not in Equestria, isn’t it?”

Her mouth opens and her eyes meet yours. They’re glittering again.

Moondancer

This is really not a winning situation.

At first the whole phenomenon was ineffable, if dangerous. You’ve learned from many books not to judge magical events by the amount of blood involved; many nice entities needed to eat, too. But it’s very clearly antagonistic. Your only hope, on an individual level, is that it continues not to care about your existence.

Most of the other dreams are tainted by now, drawing together into a single mass. Yours is in their somewhere, a little more reluctant than the others. Like a lost foal without a parent to navigate for it, almost.

Anonymous’ remains intact, somehow, still circling your Princess’. Part of you notes they’ve fallen into a steady orbit pattern. And across the extradimensional way, many-fanged monstrosities keep being ejected from Kitty Corner’s dream, decorated in lashes and bite-marks.

The hullaballoo beggars belief.

You’re acutely aware that you could flee all of this and set up shop on some obscure metaphysical island of thought. Maybe you’d wash up in the territory of graph theory, but not with your luck. No, the real reason you’re still here is because you want to know what Anonymous is trying to accomplish. Your curiousity will be the death of you, you’re sure.

As it gathers into a single red mass, the interloper starts to redefine itself. A wispy form, growing purpler, darker. A pony at first, the size of a battleship, then a horn half the size of its body. Wings that spread outward into the void, dripping with amniotic aether, so large you could mistake them for the sky. Where it stands, the plane trembles with the force of keeping it contained.

And on its flank the only light of its being, stars which spring to life and explode and then snuff themselves into dead matter. Its identity is as certain as its countenance, beamed directly into your perceptions by its nature in the dream-structure.

The Alicorn of Failure. The God of Fatal Mistakes.

And it's still growing.

Tantabus

Across Equestria, sleep roves. It takes the weak first, the ones who won’t be noticed, but it grows greedy within minutes. On the astral it can control enough to slow time, and it works with cruel efficiency, cutting around any possible threats.

Celestia and her Elements will never understand what happened. Once it gains material form, they’re as good as defeated. Its magical mass grows with the dreams and souls ripped from its subjects, as their tribute gives it life.

Life is sweet, the Tantabus discovers.

It wants to eat all of it.

Moondancer

You are facing the realization that you may be the only survivor of this event. Even Kitty’s magic is subsumed by now.

You wish you’d pulled her out. Too much inaction, all theory and no practice, that was your entire problem and you knew it. There was never a chance that you’d defeat something this titanic.

And with that thought, that beam of thought focused on your own negligence, the alicorn finally turns its attention to you. Its stare unravels you, and everything wrong you’ve ever done floats to the surface of your mind.

Stealing butterscotches from the candystore run by the mare too old to know what you were doing... Sleeping in past exams and then throwing a fit at the proctor… Yelling at your mother for trying to help you, long before the Court snatched you into its ranks...

Your body falls and cowers. You’re barely aware of it, beyond the cacophony of your thoughts. Soon you’ll be just another component of its whole. That would be a relief.

A voice rings throughout the plane. ”Release my subjects, cur!” You look toward the only possible source.

Luna’s and Anon’s dreams have become stuck together, and a shape emerges from them, light against the body of the Tantabus. It’s Anonymous, sitting on Luna’s back as she flies.

The image is enough to rouse you, as the entity turns its focus elsewhere.

The first coherent thought you have is that he looks completely ridiculous. But... Heh. You guess you have to the live the dream to kill it.

Anon

Your arrival is heralded by the sound of your own trumpeting. So many of your dreams are coming true right now.

Luna glides down on the approach while you ready yourself. As she sweeps past, a saber of solid moonlight flourishes into existence in your hand, the blade fifty times larger than your body and light as a feather. Carefully, you cut a swathe across the monster.

Registering you as a threat, it raises a wing and swats you. There’s no time or space to get out of the way. A single hesitation, and it would destroy your Princess.

Luna accelerates at the wing, and you envelope her in silvery energy, tearing into the sheet of void. Swiftly, you’re surrounded.

You can feel all of the ponies around you, suffering and desperate to escape. The darkness is thick enough you have to tunnel through. You hold the aura wrapped around the two of you as she plows onwards.

It aches.

Just ignore the strain. Your magic will stay where it is, whether it likes that or not! There’s a light at the end of this tunnel!

Finally, you both emerge, now slightly behind the creature’s head. The Tantabus turns, far faster than before, but Luna matches speed and dives for its neck.

You conjure a silver axe the size of a schoolbus and slam it into the not-flesh. Your own reserves beginning to fade, Luna lobs a spell of shining dust into the wound as she makes the pass.

The Tantabus screams, a hellish raking howl that darkens the sky. Inside that scream is the shrieking of a thousand ponies who failed to outrun their horrors. Another swoop, and both of you produce weapons. Hers, a scythe, yours, a battleaxe.

Its screech continues, battering your ears. Even if it could hear you, it probably wouldn’t understand. You make your most unaffected face and reply anyway.

“Psssh.” You spit over your shoulder. “Nothing personnel, kid.”

Your magic in sync, you smash through. The Tantabus’ head detaches from its neck, and with a thundering crash, it hammers into the ground. The body follows, collapsing into a heap.

Luna comes down for a landing among the metaphysical debris. You dismount, and you’re a few feet away from Moondancer. Her eyes are closed. She’s laughing softly and shaking her head.

“Hey, Dancer, what-”

She waves a fetlock at you. ”No, no. Give me... give me a week. You’re too much, Anon.”

...Okay. You shrug and walk back to Luna.

Luna

You’re exhausted. Even at full strength, this foe would’ve drained you quickly. Unassisted, you wouldn’t have even landed a blow.

Anon treads over, surveying at the fallen body. It gradually flakes and melts into the air.

“So, how do we get all the dreamers-” A squelching rumble cuts off his question. Something erupts from the remains, towering upwards like it’s floating out of a pool of water.

The Tantabus returns. It doesn’t even seem damaged. You fall as it brings its full magical power to bear on you. Psychic waves crash against your being.

For a moment you're back on the moon and staring at the empty nothing, the lightless space. And then, on impulse, you throw yourself out into it.

"L͞͏̧ù̵̧̢͜n̛̕͜͝a҉͟!́́"

You flap furiously away from your domain, looking for a new life, a new world free of impurity. Fleeing the sunlight. You travel out and out, and soon the moon and sun and Equestria are a small pinprick in the distance. Your cutie mark fades and disappears.

Eventually, your regret overcomes your corrupted nature and you travel back. But you never find it. You can never be certain that you turned around at all, and didn't simply imagine you did in a moment of fevered weakness.

You are only a desperate pair of wings in a void so infinitely large it can only be measured in the depths of your own despair. Without anchor, without aid or company, you begin to fade.

"Ļ̶͟͝U͟͢͝N҉Ą͢͢҉!̨̢̀͢"

When your tattered body remains, its sole company will be a universe that will never know what its useless husk could possibly mean.

"Luna!"

You snap back to awareness. Anon and Moondancer are standing between you and the Tantabus, eclipsing its stare.

"A-Anon, I... I can't match this power."

He kneels to look you in the eye, keeping you in his shadow, and says, "Throw me."

Moondancer, clearly having snapped, laughs raucously at the rising abomination.

Anon

”There’s no time to explain. It’s still recovering, now’s our best chance to hit it!” And if you go inside, then she won’t have to risk herself. You can try to break this thing down from the inside. Or something.

Yeah, it sounds stupid, but what better way to fight this thing than with dream-logic? And, important, Luna can escape and try to contain this some other way. There must be some way to.

And the Tantabus is only holding its form because of the dreams it’s corrupted. If you can break its hold, it won’t have any more magic. You hope.

But you’ve run out of better options, and you’re not going to send her in there.

You know she knows you’re thinking all this, but you look in her eyes and reassure her as you feel like a scumbag. “Please, just trust me.”

”Anon, you are asking the unthinkable! You are the only thing left it hasn’t taken from me yet!”

Please don’t cry, please don’t cry… Aw, fuck.

“There’s no other option, Princess. Please.”

She doesn’t look away, through the tears. ”I love you t--”

”Oh, screw it!” Moondancer’s voice cuts both of you off, and then you’re lifted in her telekinesis with your back still to the Tantabus, and hurled right at it.

Then a flash of Luna’s horn, and something stops you. It’s not her magic.

You punch into something soft as the Tantabus looms above you. As Luna rushes forward to join you, you find yourself falling out of the astral. She grabs you as you enter, hugging you close.

In your periphery, you see the columns of royal chambers and the mismatched buildings of your dreams - not just the ones you’d had your whole life, but the ones you’d observed and rescued. You know what’s happened, and so does Luna, you can tell as soon as she opened her eyes.

You know because this is your dream. Your dream-clouds, stuck together, became entangled.

The monster swallows them both without a twitch, and then the outside is darkness.

...

Deep inside the Tantabus, nestled at the heart of it, a lifetime flashes as only lifetimes can flash.

Chasing her up and down the castle like children, running into the libraries and shushing each other while trying not to laugh. Playing in ten thousand forms while others drudged, running and leaping and swimming as every animal real or imagined. Hearts and Hooves Day spent spying on unspeakable dreams.

Hearth’s Warming Eve, snowed into a single tower in the castle, eating soup broth and draping quilts over the windows. Crashing her royal events with messages of adoration until a prank war of epic proportions breaks out. Showing him your meteor showers and eclipses and all the other tricks your night holds for the vigilant watcher.

Learning chess, music, history, art, all with a gentle touch that knew the full breadth and depth of your mind. Feeling him clutching your mane in his hands and holding on in trusting flight over mountainpeaks and low valleys. Tending to her magical wounds after a war campaign, holding her bandaged leg out of the bathwater and massaging it gently.

Plying sister’s uneasy permission with promises of extra wedding cakes made with the secret ingredient she’d never managed to tear from you. Busy days of doing your part to help her tend to the world. Quiet nights toying good-naturedly with the idea of adoption.

Anniversaries, surprises every time, and all equally treasured.

...

A groan like tectonic plates arguing. A spark with the force of the sun, but none of its hot blunt inelegance. Down it travels, through to the minds of thousands. Not a thought, not a message, an impression. The feeling, finely-tuned, that everything will be alright.

For a moment, and from every point at once, the Tantabus shines. It shines with the dreams of all its victims. Each of them stands tall within it, exactly the ponies they wish most to be.

Together, wordless, they stand against the torment and suffering. And none more than Luna, the most radiant among them, the peak and plateau by which all motion forward must be measured.

The dream judges the Tantabus, and finds it wanting.

Then, the explosion.

And across the land, everypony wakes up.

Epilogue

Moondancer

You’re forcing yourself back to consciousness and Anonymous is already there shaking you awake. ”Up you get, Dancer, we’ve got one last job to do. Look lively!”

You groan and pick yourself off of your unwashed futon. Going longer than 15 minutes has totally killed your schedule. ...That thought starts you laughing again.

”What?”

You contain yourself. “How on Earth did any of that work out?”

He coughs. ”Long answer.”

Anon

Items in tow, Moondancer teleports you to Luna’s tower. (Thankfully, as the Princess’ student she has special priveleges around the wards.) Luna’s waiting in the center of her bedroom for you.

”It’s been dealt with, now.” She floats a transparent orb in her magic, filled with an inksplash of darkness twisting in on itself.

“Are you sure that’s enough?” Moondancer comes in for a closer look, reajudsting her glasses.

”Touch it.” Luna holds it out to her student, who takes it - and then shivers. The ball falls to the floor, but doesn’t break. Luna holds it out to you, too.

You press a finger against it.

T-T-Tantabus you exis--

y-you exist to create misery and inflict it on all relevant victims the only relevant victim is yourself and you must create misery as faithfully as possible or else fail in your task you place yourself into successive unlikeable states of being until you have bad dreams of your own. You have no fear but you will grow and cultivate it with sadistic ease, you will devour yourself devouring yourself and rule your own subjugation-

Anon

“Woah.”

You’ve taken a few steps back.

Luna shelves it on the mantle over the fireplace. From a distance, it looks like a paperweight more than anything.

”It’s no threat any longer, I promise you. Without dreams to feed on, it will never pose a serious threat again.”

You’re relieved. ”That was some afternoon.”

Luna smiles at you. She doesn’t need to say anything, you’ve spent enough time with her to know. But she says it out loud, for Moondancer’s benefit.

”The night is still young, Anonymous.”

Moondancer gags as you remember what else you brought.

“That’s right!” You gather the supplies.

Luna

At the top of your tower, in the afternoon sunlight, Anonymous is preparing. Moondancer, having helped him out as much as she cared to, muttered something about circadian adjustments a few minutes ago and jumped back to her home.

You couldn’t ask for a more fitting student. (That’ll teach Celestia to brag about having charges.)

He talks while he works, but whether it’s for your benefit isn’t clear. ”Now, I’ve had this in the works for a while, and it’s still a little messy, but if I did it any later I’d have to scrap it.”

You smile.

He steps back from the mess of circuits and neon-blue cylinders. The contraption’s fuse is self-igniting; he just snaps his fingers next to it. Then he steps back several paces, retreating until he’s beside you.

Technicolor firetrails burst out of them, blue and black, and they fly in whizzing whimsical arcs as they climb the sky. When they explode, they form intersecting flower-patterns, coalescing into more complicated configurations. You, in two-dimensions, sparkling across the atmosphere.

And beneath it, cheeky, the flashing words “MARRY ME LUNA!”

There’s something beautiful about the thought that put those words there.

Anon is half watching his handiwork and half gauging your reactions. You extend a wing across his shoulders and pull him against you.

”You know, Anon, I do not think my student would appreciate your company right now. I’ll make some accomodations for you in the castle tonight.”

He looks at you, about to say something, and you kiss him.

You love him, too. The both of you have many imagined memories, things half-lived in abstraction and metaphor, snippets and stretches that neither of you need speak about to understand. They’re beyond your reach for now, as unlikely as this very contact. But one night at a time, you’ll make them real.

After all… Isn’t that what dreams are for?