Flash Sissy

by shortskirtsandexplosions

How Deep The Sissy Hole Goes...?

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Author's Note

What can I say?

Have some mental fluff.

F'naaaa
-ApopcaLemur 2020


How Deep The Sissy Hole Goes...?

When Flash Sentry saw lavender butterflies, he knew he was dreaming.

He tried opening his eyes, only to realize they were already open. Only to then realize that he wasn't even using his eyes to begin with.

A wave of lucidity overcame the fair dreamer. But—unlike normal cases—the mental jostling did not wake him up. Instead, he rose (more like floated) into an upright position. He stood in a patch of emerald grass and flowers, materialized solely from a halo of light affixed from some unknown zenith above.

The butterflies continued their gentle orbit around the petite boi, and he regarded them with a passive calm.

“This isn't happening; it only thinks it's happening,” Flash quoted, feeling both proud and ashamed of himself at the same time. The butterflies faded away, causing the boi to blink. “Windows Desktop Background?” He blinked again. “Or the climax to Metal Gear Solid Three?”

When the boi had run out of meta nerdism with which to shield himself from the moment, he then made the bold decision of looking at his own person. Much to his surprise—or lack thereof—he looked exactly as he always did. Albeit clothed as dully as ever in the typical hoodie and sweatpants combo that he had gotten used to imprisoning himself in over the years. It was almost as if he was back to the lonesome person he was right before being rescued by a passing amazon so few days ago—only he didn't smell bad or feel sweaty.

“Now I know it's one of my dreams,” Flash murmured, his girlish voice turned low and shuddering. “There's nothing special about it.”

“Only because you never let it become something special, Flash.”

“!!!” The boi spun around. Sadly, he was wearing nothing that could twirl.

The spotlight had extended, revealing more of the illuminated pocket of flowery fields. A pastel unicorn stood among daisies and dandelions. She was cute and cat-sized and smiling at him. “We really have to do something about that, sweetie.”

“Sunset Shimmer. There you are.” The boi pensively rubbed his smooth fingers together. He hunched slightly, standing pigeon-toed as he threw anxious looks every which way. “Sooooo... are we mind-melding again?”

The mare shook her head. “We are not.”

“But...” Flash walked towards her. His exposed ankles were tickled by the flowers, and he fought the urge to giggle. “...I don't understand...” He knelt before the adorable little equine. “When you're here and you look like this, it usually means we're sharing our consciousnesses. Isn't that how it works, Sunset?”

There was a slight giggle, and the mare shook her head with a flounce of her fiery mane. “I'm not Sunset.”

Flash's ocean eyes narrowed. “But... I thought we...” He pointed at the misty air above the patch of valley, now bereft of butterflies. “...this place—?”

“This?” The little pony waved her fetlock. “This is all you, sweetie.” She trotted casually past him, playfully rubbing her cheek across his bent limbs and flicking her tail like a kitten's. “Heehee... although... we're putting it on rails, so to speak.”

“Huh?”

“Sunset figured that you could use some distraction. Some entertainment, as it were.” The mare sniffed a flower, sighed in contentment, then bit the whole thing in one fell chomp. The tiny horse-person munched on the thing, smiled, and daintily rubbed her muzzle with a fetlock. “Assuming, of course, you're willing.”

“Willing? Willing for what?” Flash hugged himself, looking around at the constrictive bubble demarcating the mist from the grass-and-flowers immediately around him. “If Sunset's not really here... than who—or what—are you?”

“We?” The mare turned around and smiled up at him. Her fuzzy cheeks were all rosy and squishy. “We are a mimetic representation of the consciousness of Sunset Shimmer, constructed—or programmed, you could say—to respond to your mental processes and synaptic pathways in order to perform the function that was given to us.”

Flash's eyebrows arched. “Oh... uhm...” He ran a hand through his long silky bangs. “O-okay... I think I've seen this episode of Star Trek Voyager.”

Sunset Shimmer winked. “We couldn't get Michael McKean to play the role.”

“Huh? Oh!” Flash pointed. “That's the 'responding to my mental processes' part!”

“Mmmhmmm!” Sunset hunched over, wriggling her flank. “And we know what you want us to do next! YEET!” Like a leaping panther, she pounced straight into Flash's torso.

“Guhhh!” He swiftly caught and cradled the adorable little pony. She purred like a not-horse and it made Flash Sentry's heart instantly flutter in his not-chest. “Oh... ohhhhh gosh...” His eyes sparkled as he found himself stroking her mane and scratching her cheeks. “Mmmm—heeeeee...” Girlish giggles flew out of his mouth; he couldn't help but lean his head in and nuzzle her back. Her mane smelled like lilacs dipped in cinnamon, and his veins filled with giddy fireworks. “Ah fluff ah fluff ah fluff! You are just tooooo cuuuuuuuute!”

“D'awwwwwwwwwww...” Horseset Shimmer batted her eyelids as she looked up at the boi cradling her. “Am I realllllly?” She made a damnably adorable face. “OwO???”

Wait.” Flash suddenly plunged into a cold invisible pit of realization. His nuzzling and tickling administrations of the cat!pone ceased. “...am I really enjoying the fact that I'm cradling and cuddling with you? Or is it just my mind telling me that—under these circumstances—I would be enjoying the idea of cradling and cuddling with you?”

“Ohhhhhhh Flash...” The pony sat up in his arms, ears drooping sadly. “...she was afraid this would happen.” She pressed a hoof to his shoulder as she stared sympathetically into his gorgeous face. “Why can't you—for once in your dreams—enjoy a fantasy for what it is?”

“I'd... guess that Sunset Shimmer knows me too much.” He sighed, contemplating saying something else. Suddenly—a wave of dizziness overwhelmed Flash. He stumbled back, his eyes fluttering shut. A stranger sensation absorbed the boi, and he envisioned the flickering of dim lights beneath his lids. He heard running water. Tasted bread, cheese, carrots. More water. The sharp hint of mint... and then the dizziness stopped. It all lasted the span of four... maybe five seconds. Once more, he found himself standing in place, cradling the feline specimen of a pony girl in his trembling arms. “Wow-wee-wa-waaaaa,” he produced through a high-pitched wheeze.

The unicorn stared up at him patiently. “Are you still with us, Flash?”

“I... think...?” A clearing of the throat, and then Flash placed the pony down in the grass before patting her head. “Anyways, it begs the question...” He folded his arms while squinting curiously at her. “Why would Sunset have you tell me from the start that this is all some... artificial construct of telepathy?”

The pony stood up and paced through the flowers once more. “That is a very good question, Flash.”

“You mean you don't know?”

“We only know that which we have been instructed to perform.”

“Which again is...?”

“To provide you with distraction and entertainment until Sunset Shimmer is done with her time-consuming tasks.”

“Time-consuming tasks?” Flash leaned his head to the side. “Like what?

“You will not fully-understand.”

“Huh?”

The pony looked up at him while trotting around. “That is to say—we have been instructed to keep it a secret.”

“A secret...?”

“Affirmative.” The pony smiled. “Sunset Shimmer wishes to surprise you. She is arranging something that she believes will only bring the two of you happiness and contentment in the real world.”

His eyebrow arched. “Is that what she calls it?”

“Yes.” The mare batted at a random flower like a cat. “And she needs some time in order to properly orchestrate it. So—in the meanwhile...” She looked up at him with a pleasant smile. “You are here.”

“I am...” Flash's eyes thinned as he glanced around. “... … …asleep?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“That's...” Flash rubbed one arm with the opposite hand as he shivered slightly. “...a bit disconcerting.”

“Of course, Sunset Shimmer does not wish for you to feel uncomfortable,” the little pony said, her pleasant tone turning somewhat sterile and serious. “Your being here is part of a grander experiment: one that—while agreed to in the waking world—is still an idea that Sunset Shimmer is the complete and total author of.”

“Experiment...” Flash's sapphire eyes swam towards the misty heavens. Somewhere in the bright uniform grayness, he imagined two figures cuddling on a couch. One petite and the other amazonian. He saw Sunset's face beaming from the larger of the two. He remembered her cuddling him, speaking dearly to him, asking the boi to repeat his ardent “trust” in her. And the moment that the affirmation had been made concrete, she had kissed his forehead—touched it—and he fell into utter comfort and slumber.

He fell into this.

“She's...” He rubbed his head—or what he dreamed was his head—as a curious expression washed across his fair features. “...she's incapacitated me.” A blink. Then a nervous giggle. “I-I guess it's... to pass the time for her to do... to do whatever she's planning.” He instantly felt his heartbeat increasing. But it wasn't fear; it was something else. “Oh gosh... what could it be?

“Nevertheless, Sunset Shimmer does not want you to be completely bereft of agency.” The mare sat back on her haunches and raised her right hoof. Flash! A magic mushroom appeared, floating above her limb. “If you consume this—it will issue a 'kill' command to the telepathic construct, causing the entire vision to dissolve and for you to instantly wake up in the real world.” Flash! A tiny blue chalice with a dangling note reading “Drink me” appeared above her other hoof. “If you wish to stay unconscious until Sunset Shimmer is ready for you to wake, you can consume this and the telepathic vision will vanish, leaving you to your own natural mind...”

“No, wait—”

“...which may or may not include a normal dream state. Either way, it'll feel longer than usual slumber—”

“No no no no...” Flash reached out and grasped the pony's little withers. “No, please.” He gulped, trying to steady his own beating heart. “I... I wanna stay here.” He smiled gently. “At least... for as long as Sunset needs me to.”

The pony blinked. “You wish to remain within the vision that she has constructed for the current passage of time?”

“Yes. I do.” He stroked the mare's fiery hair. “I... I meant what I said. To Sunset, I-I mean.” He leaned back, still feeling his heart fluttering with a new breed of excitement. “I trust her. And... a-and I want her to be in control right now.”

The mare simply nodded. “So be it.” The tip of her horn glowed, and the mushroom and chalice vanished into abstract thought. “Those options shall remain if you so choose to terminate the vision.”

“Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.” Flash stifled a giggle, patting the mare's head. “Nice touch on the manifestations of both kill-switches. You should tell Sunset that. It's very 'Carroll' of her.”

The pony shook her head. “We cannot communicate with Sunset.”

“Oh...?”

“We are simply a mimetic construct planted into—”

“—into my mind. Got it.” He stood up, rubbing his slender arms as he paced around through the grass and flowers. “Still... I-I can't help but wonder what she's doing out there. In the real world, I mean.” Flash Sentry inhaled and exhaled heavily, heated breaths flaring through the nostrils that he wasn't really using at that moment. “And what she plans to do to me.”

“That is a secret.”

“Yes. I'm starting to get that. Thank you.” He turned to smile down at her. “You know—now that I'm starting to understand what you are—you sound more and more like a robot.” He giggled. “A thought robot.”

The pony curtsied as best as a pony could. “Thank you.”

“Do you really mean that?” Flash nervously bit his lip. “Do you mean anything?

“We endeavor to serve our function.” She smiled pleasantly up at him. “Which is to entertain and distract you during the interim.”

“And... if I'm unconscious for a while...” Flash nodded. “...I see how that could be useful. How considerate of Sunset.”

“If you so desire, we can start work on constructing your safe space.”

“My...” Flash blinked heavily. “...my what—now?”

“It is a mental program begun by Sunset Shimmer and utilized among all of her closest friends,” the unicorn explained. “Using her advanced skills in telepathy, she reinforces a particular 'pocket' within another person's subconscious and then donates synaptic thought constructs in order to help facilitate the construction of a continuous vision fit for return visits.”

Flash blinked hard. His mouth hung open as he struggled to process all of that. Before he could respond, another dizzy spell fluttered through him. His eyes rolled back, and he rubbed the side of his head as he imagined sitting down in a dim place, being baptized in warm water, nibbling on apple slices, then a kiss on the forehead and—

“Oh... uhm...” He fluttered back to the moment—the flowers, the grass, the mist. “So...”

“A safe space!” the little pony chirped.

“Yeah. I got that. Sounds kinda... snazzy, I think?” Flash murmured, his eyes trailing about with a hint of nervousness.

“Shall we begin?”

“But... uhm...” He ran a hand through his long girlish hair. “I-I'm not sure I even know how.”

The pony chuckled. “Sunset informed us that this particular exercise might be exceedingly difficult for you. The knowledge bestowed to us maintains that she would very much like to assist you personally with this endeavor, but she is currently occupied for the interim of this vision.”

“Guess it's all up to me... or us...” Flash blushed. “Oh gosh, I don't even know how to talk to you anymore.”

“You can talk to us however you like! This is your mind, Flash Sentry. We are no longer a mental possession of Sunset Shimmer. We are simply a tool to help you make a deamscape worthy of return visits, should the need arise.”

“So... like... I can come back here in the future?” Flash blinked. “Sunset will let me?”

“Affirmative. And with mental training, you can come back and visit on your own—without telepathic prompting from Sunset Shimmer.”

“Huh...” Flash looked at the surrounding mists, smiling slightly to himself. “I guess she and her friends really are happy these days. Both inside and out.” He struck his arms out at his sides and exhaled heavily for good measure. “Okay. So... uhm... where do we begin?”

“Where are you right now, Flash Sentry?”

“I dunno.” He rubbed his scalp, looking down at the flowers and grass. “If you ask me, it looks like some kind of open field—”

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSH!

The mist exploded outward in all directions, revealing rolling hills full of bright green grass and be-speckled with patches of soft lavender and bright gold.

“Aaa-aaa-aackies!” Flash hugged himself, spinning in a startled circle as he saw grass and flowers stretching onward and onward for hundreds of thousands of miles. “Ohhhhh... Ohhhhhhhh dog... ohhhhhhhhhh long johnsonnnnn...” he swore.

“Heeheehee!” The unicorn bounced proudly in place, beaming. “Exciting, isn't it?”

Flash was already fanning himself. “I'd s-say!” He gulped a lump down his throat. “I can't say I've ever been 'God' of my own domain b-before...”

“You've always had the opportunity.”

“???” He spun to look down at her.

The unicorn winked. “It is your mind, Flash. Your imagination. Your safe space.”

He stood in place—legs tightly drawn together. He shook with tiny shivers, brought on by mixed apprehension and excitement.

“Tell us...” The mare trotted closer to his ankles. “...what is your most favorite place in the world?”

“Like... specifically? A place I've been to?” He squinted at the rolling emerald plains. “Because the EPCOT ball would look seriously out of place here.”

“In general. A setting,” the pony asked. “Where would you like your safe place to be?”

“I... uh... I guess this is a good start,” Flash said. “Fields full of pretty flowers. Fragrant... colorful flowers...” As he said this, he noticed the patches of buds brightening to nearly story-book intensity. At the same time, his nostrils were tickled by a collage of flowery, girlish scents. “Oh... oh gosh...”

“Do continue, Flash, sweetie,” the mare said.

“Uhm...” He ran a hand through his increasingly frazzled blue hair. “...a bunch of tall, white, protective mountains, I guess. Snow-capped and...”

RUMMMMMMMMMMMBLE!!!

His pupils shrank, reflecting vertical columns of frothing blue-and-white. “... … ...brimming with beautiful tall waterfalls. Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosssssh...”

The emerald valley had now become a plateau, nestled cozily in the wide, echoing niche of gray granite mountains. The air was moist—in a tingling way—and a cascade of multiple waterfalls filled the elevated basin with a persistent hush... a gentle roar... so serene and hypnotic that even the craziest beast would helplessly fall asleep to it.

Flash felt a tiny whimper escape his lips. “It's... it's like right out of a faerie tale...

“You wish this to be a faerie tail setting?” the pony asked.

“Uhm...” Flash turned to look down at her. “Is...” He touched two demure fingers together. “Is th-that alright?”

“Heehee... it is absolutely alright, sweetie,” the mare said. “It can be any setting you want: historical, fictional, space-age, grungy, spooky, cartoonish, and—yes—even faerie tale-esque.”

“I... uh... I know I must be dreaming but, yeesh...” Flash giggled breathily. He gave the pony a cockeyed stare. “I-I don't even know where to start!”

“We will do everything we can to assist you while you are here.” The mare winked. “In fact, we don't even have to be as we appear before you.”

“Wait...” Flash blinked. “I can even change you?”

“If you wish!” The mare nodded, leaning back with a bright expression. “After all, we really aren't Sunset Shimmer. Ooh! We know!” FLASH!!! In a blink, she shrank to the size of a cricket, flying up to Flash's eye-level with gossamer wings. A sparkling green dress of leaves clad her magical humanoid figure. “Would this be more appropriate?”

Flash's eyes twitched in disbelief.

“Oh. We apologize!” The pixie blushed, squirming in mid-air. “You do not like the version of Tinkerbell who talks.” A snap of microscopic fingers. “We sense you are wanting something different.” FLASSSSH! In the faerie's place, a bulky muscular specimen stood high above the boi, wearing a hot black-and-pink jumpsuit. Flash's cowering figure reflected in the man's glossy 80s shades. “You want the best there is, the best there was, the best there ever will be!

“I... uhhh...” Flash gulped nervously. “I-I've always admired Bret the Hitman Hart.” Sweatbulbs. “I-I never really wanted to meet him, though.”

The wrestler rubbed his chin. “Hmmm... we may have picked up on the wrong thoughts.” A flash. “Captain Janeway? No.” Another flicker. “Spike Spiegel? Hell no...” Fluctuations. “The line-shaped Tetris block...”

“Just...” Flash's lips quivered. “...how deeply are you searching?”

The floating length of squares drifted closer like a Kubrick obelisk. “Oh. Now we know. “ The voice resonated with echoing intensity, turning feminine by the millisecond. “Now we know all too well.”

“Know what—?” Flash had to shield his eyes from the next burst of magic.

When he found the chance to look once again, he saw that the geometric shape had cascaded like a descending curtain across the flower-filled earth. The glowing silhouette became an hourglass... until its lower half bowed outward like a dinner bell. Then—as the transformative lights dimmed—a fabric took shape, shiny and yellow with ornamental tresses surrounding all around in a circle. To Flash's flickering mind, the texture resembled something plush and comfy to look at—like a finely perfumed duvet he could wrap himself up with and snuggle in. In truth, every one of his senses was being assailed with dreamly pleasure, and it wasn't until the third or fourth breath into digesting the figure in front of him that he realized she was wearing a gloriously gold ballgown. His eyes were anchored on a peeking layer of white petticoat from just beyond the hem, and as gracious gloved fingers hiked up a meager length of the skirt, his widening eyes traveled up her regally-clothed feminine figure until they rested on the french braid of chestnut brown hair affixed above her fair head.

“Is this more acceptable a chaperon, Flash Sentry?” she asked with the kind dulcet tones befitting a voice actress from 1991.

Flash stupidly wheezed her name like he was living out the dramatic moment from some Japanese anime. “Princess Belle?!?”

“That is right, sweetie.” She strolled towards him, ballgown rustling, gold slippers impossibly tapping against the otherwise pliable earth. The lengths of her skirt shook the flowers, shaking floral scents further and further through the air until Flash's dumbstruck figure was practically cocooned in olfactory goodness. This princess was not some poor tiny soul forced to play face-character at a Disney Park. But rather, she towered ludicrously over Flash like a giantess or—more appropriately—like the very same amazonian telepath that had so mercifully plunged him into this fantastical pinkscape in the first place. “We sense a tinge of disappointment in your thoughts.” Princess Belle waved her royal hand femininely in his direction, all the while smiling as bright as a print of her might on the cover of a toothpaste container lying on a shelf at a grocery store somewhere. “Do not worry, precious. We're both here.”

Flash—still flabbergasted—struggled for the breath to stammer: “Both... b-both of us?” Just as he said this, two silver-blue gloves reached in from behind. They wrapped around and held the boi close and dear to a large, warm bosom pressed against his tender shoulders. Flash's peripheral vision filled with sparkles and pixie dust. He looked straight down and saw a hint of glass slippers from beyond the hem of a dress belonging to an enormous, kneeling monarch.

“Just relax, Flash.” A new scent sprinkled the air this time—like white sugar mixed with expensive polish used to wax a ballroom floor—and with the shifting of gloved limbs, Flash found himself looking up into the beautiful blonde visage of the statuesque woman who was suddenly cradling his dwarfed figure. “All your life, you've always wanted to meet us,” Princess Cinderella said. “And talk with us.” She giggled in a rich, womany voice. She sat in the field of flowers, cradling him, her ballroom gown acting like a poofy bed of hydrangeas spread out beneath the two of them. “And now you can!”

Flash was hyperventilating at this point, lying in Cinderella's warm embrace like a paralyzed cat. His eyes and ears jolted as he saw another figure waltzing in.

“And the truth is...” Princess Ariel sashayed towards the scene in her poofy pink number that occupied too little precious screentime. She was also gigantic, also kneeling, also giggling and absorbing his whole vision along with the mountains of Belle and Cinderella who too were leaning in, full of sparkles and smiles and the brink of smooches. “...we've always wanted to talk to you.”

“But now we can!” Snow White said in her cavity-inducing chirpiness.

“Just to pass the time,” added Tiana, standing splendidly in her floral green gown. “Maybe sing a song or two.”

“We can talk over tea in the garden as long as you like,” added Princess Aurora.

“Well, as long as the vision lasts, anyway,” said Rapunzel, suddenly there—and haloing the cluster of delightfully suffocating ballgowns with her golden hair.

“So, what'll it be, hotshot?” asked Princess Daisy with a smirk. Upon Flash's surprised reaction, she blinked and planted her hands on her hips. “What?! Multiple franchises can't stop your head!”

“Oh gosh...” Flash Sentry was squeaking at this point. His heart felt like it would burst through his chest. “Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh—!” His mounting excitement boiled over, and a touch of panic—as real as it was unpredictable—pierced through the heavenly moment ever so slightly. “I... I can't... it's just... it's just t-too much—!”

“Oh sweetie...” Cinderella sushed him with gentle cooing breaths. She lovingly cradled the back of his head in one hand while holding his petite frame tightly to her corseted chest. “Shhh-shhh... just relax, Flash.”

“It's alright, precious.”

“Just relax.”

“You're safe here.”

“Breathe calmly. We don't mean you any harm.”

“Nobody is going to hurt you here.”

“Hi, I'm Daisy!”

“I... I...” Flash felt his face and upper body pressed tightly to Cinderella's bosom. It felt wrong, strange, and more than a little-bit-naughty. But the further he rested there—feeling her warmth and her gentle breaths and the vibrations of her lovely sweet voice—he slowly... slowly began to relax. He closed his eyes and drank in the sweet flowery scents that the vision was giving him. And—in a lot of ways—the experience was not too dissimilar from moments in the past... moments in the real world... where he'd bundle himself up in bed, enmeshed in plush blankets that he had just freshly-spritzed with lavender pillow mist... imagining himself in just such a cuddable situation as this: non-violently dress vored by an encompassing ocean of ballgowns and beauty. It was always a passing fantasy that he surrendered himself to in those lonely, lonely days and nights of being who he was—a lonesome boi struggling to dream.

Now the dream was as real as it ever was. It's not that he was first building his “safe space,” it was just the first time that real estate had a fence built around it. All in all, he had been there multiple times before. He was familiar with that place, and that place was familiar with him. It was just being... dramatized, courtesy of Sunset Shimmer.

And, in truth, it really wasn't all that bad. If only he had allowed his own mind to be freer before.

His heart returned to a normal pace. He breathed calmly, and at last he was able to conjure a smile.

“I... I'm sorry...” he murmured, a tear or two falling loose.

“Awwwww...”

“Sweet darling...”

“It's okay to cry...”

He felt a gloved hand wiping his face clean, then those same loving fingers caressing his head through his hair.

“We just wish to help you.”

“We love being with you.”

“And you love being with us.”

“I know,” Flash breathed, resting comfortably against Cinderella's person. “I know.” He looked up at her—at all of them—and smiled sweetly. “It's just... it's just so much... and... and I...”

“We understand, Flash,” Princess Belle said, reaching in to stroke his cheek. “You like to take things slow.”

“It was not our attempt to overwhelm you,” Cinderella said, smiling down at him. “Please—tell us what we can do to make you feel better.”

“I mean... I really like having you here... the way it feels as if you're here. Just...” He swallowed a lump down his throat. “...could you dial it back a bit? Please? Just a b-bit.”

Cinderella playfully booped his nose. “Can do, sweetie.”

Flash sensed the blue sky re-opening all around him. Two pairs of strong arms lifted him up to his shivering feet. He found himself standing in the shadows of Cinderella and Belle.

“There...” Cinderella reached down—still a towering amazon version of the popular icon. She offered her gloved hand to his. “...is that better?”

Flash blushed. Reaching up, he grasped her fingers with ease. “Much better.” In proportion, the boi felt like a toddler walking with two adult cosplayers at a birthday party. Perhaps that's why the vision willed it that way—or his mind. Or whatever. “Thanks for understanding.”

“We are merely acting out what your mind desires,” Cinderella said.

“Which is perfectly fine.” Belle giggled, winking down at the boi. “We're both your favorites, after all.”

Flash bit his lip, eyes cast downward. “You're... n-not wrong.”

Both princesses laughed merrily.

Flash smiled. He leaned forward—then teetered. It was another dizzy spell, but the accompanying vision was slightly clearer. He felt like he was being carried. Nuzzled. Nuzzled and carried. The scent of lilacs permeated. Then the scent was gone, and he was sitting somewhere. Showering somewhere. Water cascaded over his hands. Clean hands. Bread and ham and apple slices and—

“Flash?”

“Hmmm?” His eyes fluttered open once more. He felt the gentle tug of Cinderella's gloved hand, and he waddled along after her. “Sorry. I was... uhm...”

“Did you feel like you were somewhere else?” Cinderella asked knowingly.

“As a matter of fact...” Flash bit his lip. “Yeah. Like I was dreaming.”

“But you're dreaming here, Flash,” Belle said. “With us.”

“Then... what was that just now?” Flash asked. “And all those other times?”

“If we would venture to guess, it's the real you in the real world,” Cinderella stated. “Surfacing from the dream.”

“Huh...?” Flash blinked.

“She is taking care of you, after all.”

“Who?” Flash's eyes lit-up. “Sunset...” His mouth hung open. “Wait... just how much time is passing—?”

“Come...” Belle picked up a length of her skirt and waltzed ahead, all the while motioning into the plateau of grass and flowers. “...let's continue, shall we?”

Flash walked forward, hand-in-hand with Cinderella towering protectively over him. “You mean there's more to do?”

“But of course, Flash.” Belle gestured once again to the empty space filled with mostly blue-sky-and-fluffy clouds. “Unless you desire your home to be nothing but thin air.”

“What, then?” Flash's sparkling blue eyes blinked with momentary naivete. “A castle?”

Cinderella giggled. “We were waiting for you to say that.” Simultaneously, she and Belle stretched one arm-each towards the ground like omnipotent beings from an episode of Star Trek.

The earth broke loose from below. The grass and flowers rolled up—rippling into raised mounds that sped outward along with their springy scents. The first of many blue-tinged steeples and and towers rose from nothingness, taking shape in all its polished white bricklaid majesty.

Flash Sentry gaped in awe as his gaze lifted... lifted... lifted with the fanciful conjuration. “Oh gosh...” Sparkles flittered across his eyes. “...can it be bigger than Shanghai's?”

“Flash, sweetie, it's your safe space.” Belle winked at him. “Anything can be bigger than Shanghai's.”

“Mmmmmm—!” He clutched his free hand girlishly to his puffing, smiling cheeks. “Eternally Recurring Fast Pass? Yes, please!”

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