Lyra Heartstrings and the Lampshade of No Real Significance, or How To Get Away With Bee Murder

by jrock117

Rating: teen
Tags: Bon-Bon, Random, Slice of Life, Lyra, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Fluttershy
Length: 3263

Perfection does not exist, it has never existed, nor can it ever exist. Lyra has not learned that lesson.

Lyra just wanted her day to be perfect. Is that too much to ask? Is it too much to ask for one day for nothing to go wrong? Apparently so.

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This is my first April Fool's/Foal's day fic and I feel it's written better than any of my other fics. Not sure if I should be proud of that or not. The first half of the title is in reference to something, I wanna see who can correctly guess it.

Source for the cover art: https://www.deviantart.com/agnessangel/art/Cute-Lyra-Heartstrings-435812357

Published 2019-04-01 14:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2019-04-01 14:50:02 UTC

The Title Lies

Lyra set her large cup of tea next to the thick book upon the quaint little coffee table in the living space of her shared home. Today was the day. She was more than excited for what was in store, her plans for today not going forgotten like they had last week. Her excitement peaked when she looked longingly at the book on the table, My Human, My Stars. It was thicc, over nine hundred pages, and it was the fourth book in the My Human series she oh so loved, the series telling the spicy little tale of a unicorn and her human pet/companion/partner/friend/~~lover~~ as they explored Equestria and the world over, getting into all sorts of shenanigans as they try to find a place to settle down and enjoy their time together in a world where he isn't wanted. The book itself had just recently released a couple weeks ago. With Bon Bon away at some candy meeting or something, Lyra had the house all to herself and her lovingly crafted, rose colored, designer throw pillows. She took one brush of her hoof through her recently coifed mane, making sure it looked perfect.

She pulled a mat out from under the couch and sat it in front of the table, placing one of said pillows upon the mat. She plopped down, the comfiness of the pillow rushing though her shapely rear and into her being. At the very least, she thought her rear was shapely. She took a deep breath as she dug her backside into the softness below, creating a groove with which to better her comfort. The pleasant silken smoothness conformed with her thoroughly washed coat in such a way she would call it euphoric. With a shudder of pure pleasure and delight, she exhaled, as she summoned scented candles from upstairs; one a deep shade of red, almost like wine, and the other a radiant white, both long and slender. Her golden magic lit both, letting the smell of cinnamon and daisies fill the room, placing them on the table in such a way that they complimented the placement of the book and tea. It was beautiful to her, so, so, oh so beautiful. She shut the blinds on her window, blocking the morning sun from invading the room, allowing the warm light of the candles to flicker and dance on the cream colored walls of her abode. If all went according to plan, she could get through this wondrous beauty by the end of the day, maybe a little before midnight. Such a perfect day, such a perfect time, such a perfect experience! Her magic lit, taking hold of the cover and the first few pages, ready to open and enter the beautiful world that was this sure-to-be masterpiece. Her magic gripped her tea cup, gently floating it to her puckered lips. Closer it came, closer to contact, closer to taste the liquid bliss before she journeyed into her sweet realm of wonder.

bzzzz

Her eyes widened as her head swiveled left and right, searching for what made that noise. Whatever was it that dared to disturb her perfect moment? She rose a hoof, not for any particular reason, but rather just to make herself look cuter to whomever reads this. Her eyes narrowed at her surroundings as she gently floated her cup to her lips, feeling an uncomfortably cold wetness touch her kisser.

She brought the cup up, seeing that a trail of tea had escaped her cup in her stupor. She looked at the trail and followed it's trajectory, her eyes leaving the cup and settling upon where a drop had landed. Her left eye twitched at the obscene, horrendously tragic scene before her. A drop of her auburn fluid left a disgusting stain on her lovely seat. She calmed herself with a little exercise she witnessed her old friend Twilight do on occasion. Breathe in, breathe out. She looked at the drop once more, no doubt it has dried by this point. Her lips became a thin line as her disappointment rose.

She would deal with it later. She did the exercise again, and gripped the cover in her magic once more. She stared her tea cup, the line of spilt tea not daring to drop further. She licked her lips, and stuck out her tongue, slowly dragging it up from the base of the cup to the rim, savouring each little sample of delectable flavor from the cold trail, enjoying contrast of the cold on the hot porcelain as it all collected on her tongue, taking from her a husky moan. The mouthwatering, fold moistening flavor mix of sweet honey combined with the bitter tea and added salt ran waves of pleasure through her mind. She let it slide down her tongue into the back of her open maw, eyes rolled back in utter joy, letting the taste wash away her earlier worries, and swallowed the cold drink. She licked her lips with a satisfied hum and examined the tea once more. Steam continued to rise from the delightful concoction. She stared at it with half half lidded eyes, sharing dreamy thoughts with the inanimate liquid. Slowly, she brought it closer.

BZZZZTT

She jerked forward, coughing on air as the noise of something flew past her ear. She immediately felt warmth in her chest. No, not in, but on. The warmth quickly turned into an unbearable heat. She hopped off the pillow with a loud yelp of pain and discomfort as she realised the problem. She had spilt her tea, her amazing concoction of tantalizing flavor, all over her front, steam rising from her messy floof, floof that had been painstakingly cared for and styled and proportioned for today. It dripped from her floofy chest floof to her lithe little tummy and beyond, making her even more uncomfortable. She yelled and hopped in panic, looking here and there for a towel or paper towel or anything to clean her mess before it got worse. She ran to the kitchen, eyes darting everywhere for the paper towel roll. She felt the hot liquid seep deeper into her lime coat, the heat getting worse as it dripped further down her legs, quickly pooling at her pained little hoovsies. Her magic flared from her horn, yanking open all the cabinets and drawers, before she a thought struck her.

She closed her eyes, her golden aura turning a chilling blue as it enveloped her, cooling the spilt tea on her before it could sear her further. She let out a calm breath and shivered as she was now covered in cold tea. She hugged in pained annoyance and anger as she looked over the mess. Her eyes followed the trail of droplets from the puddle at her hooves, passed the island counter, around the coffee table, and ending at her drenched pillow, the tea cup on it's side upon the pillow. In her angry state, she gained some relief as the book remained untainted. After a quick examination of the still opened cabinets, she pulled out a roll of paper towels and tore off a marginal length. She dabbed at her fur and wiped away at her hooves, using her magic to move the pool of tea into the sink. A quick padding with the towels on the trail and it was done.

Gingerly, she lifted the pillow with her magic, refusing to let it drip onto the floor. She rolled her eyes and walked up the stairs of her abode, intending on a wash for the pillow and a shower for her.

BZZZ

That sound! She panicked at the top of the stairs and dropped the pillow. It fell down each step, each time leaving a heavy squelch, before it finally plopped onto the floor with a hearty shlorp. She growled in rage, her tightly grit teeth grinding against each other. She saw it, the very source of the disturbance, the culprit of her absolutely ruined day. The nuisance perched on her blinds.

A.

Stupid.

Meaningless.

Bee.

She narrowed her golden eyes at the black and yellow pest before slowly walking down, each step of her hoof making a statement to the menace as they met the stairs. Thoughts of smashing the bee with the drenched pillow, lighting it on fire with a candle, and zapping it with her magic raced through her mind. She stopped. Fluttershy wouldn't like that one bit. For all Lyra knew, this little bee was important in the bee world, despite how much of a blight it was on her perfect day. Well, second perfect day. She remembered the last Hearts and Hooves Day, the day Bon Bon did that little thing that practically spent all of Lyra's stamina in seconds, leaving her with a goofy face for the night and sore behind for the rest of the week, basically a potato for a couple hours. She shook her head of those thoughts. As happy as they were, they distracted her from the nuisance at her window. With the earlier thought of Fluttershy still recent enough for her to remember, she decided to ber merciful on the little bother. Well, maybe not a little bother. It looked a bit bigger than your usual bee now that she was closer. Her horn shined with golden magic, doing her best to slowly open the blinds, so as not shake the bee off. With the same magic, she opened the window, giving the bee an escape from her home. She moved her hoof in a shooing motion, trying to coax the bee into leaving. The bee, however, did not seem to care for her shooing, as it lifted it's fat body off the blind it was on and flew over toward the table. Irritation quickly took the mare as the bee landed on the table, crawling here and there as it did bee things. Her eyes on the bee rather than where the bee was going, she didn't notice it nudge the white candle a bit. Panic rose within her chest, her heart beating a mile a minute as she saw the candle perilously teeter back and forth near her book. She swiftly used her magic to steady the candle, snuffing out the flames of both candles. She wiped the sweat off her brow and sighed in relief as the bee continued to do bee things.

In what could only be described as the pure unluckiest of bad lucks, the table collapsed into itself, dust poofing into the air. Her face was frozen in a silent scream. Had she been buried that moment with that look, archeologists would forever argue over the specific emotion. Horror? Terror? Sadness? Anger? None of those are correct, yet they are all necessary in describing how she felt. Her brow was tightly knit yet neither raising nor lowering, her eyes containing tears in the corners as a fire erupted behind them, her jaw hung so low it would make a snake blush. The dust settled, showing a mess of splinters and sawdust, stuck to the melted candle wax on her book. From her place, she could see the wax as it hardened on the cover and edges of the pages. The only slice of hope was that the book had been closed, so while it was slightly damaged, it wasn't ruined. That was her only bit of solace. She blinked, letting what little tears she had flow freely as she stared at the aftermath of the sheer accident. Then, she heard it.

bzzzz

The bee flew from the mess and landed on the island counter, taunting the mare. It was then that every negative emotion in the universal lexicon was directed solely at the striped monster. No, what Fluttershy would think didn't matter any more. That tree hugging, animal cuddling, pony fearing, furry flocking, critter chaser could shove it! This bee was going to pay, oh it would pay dearly. For the price of attempted murder on alternative, self fulfilling fantasy, cryptozoological literature was death, and this mare was going to play the part of the judge, the jury, and executioner.

The aquamarine mare, Madam Lyra of Highrool, stood upon her maroon sofa of standing, wielding her trusty swatter of slaying. There she stood, her mane not blowing in the non-existent wind as she stood tall. She stood there, eyeing her target, the bee of annoyance. Twas an annoying bee, it was. It's wings of buzzing and it's legs of gross-doing, constantly getting in Lyra of Highrool's way. Slowly, she rose her weapon of choice, ready to slay this creature that stood before her. With a huff, her swatter flew across the room, smashing the counter with a resounding smack. Unfortunately, the bee had seen this coming and evaded at the right moment, moving it's fat, disgusting body to the wall which properly separated the living space from the kitchen.

Lyra narrowed her eyes at the cretin and slowly brought the swatter to hover by her side. This thing, it was taunting her, she knew it. She let out an angry yell as her swatter flew at the wall, delivering another resounding smack to absolutely nothing, the bee again moved out of the way at the last second and landed on a little shelf. Lyra racked her brain on how this-this-this thing was avoiding her strikes. She could've sworn her strikes were pinpoint, were unavoidable, yet this thing had the gall to prove her wrong, strike after strike. Her eyes twitched in rage as a growl escaped her, a growl that promised a violent and merciless death.

It hadn't mattered, however, as with every swing she swung, the bee dodged and dipped and danced around her swatter of slaying. Her mane gaining upended strands as she swung her head around for extra oomph. It hadn't mattered how tall she stood or how much her mane didn't move in the non-existent winds of mount sofa. She let loose a powerful roar of pent up aggression and violence as she swung with all her might at the bee still in flight. She saw it, the way the bee attempted to move, attempted to turn and drop, as if the world had slowed to a crawl. She adjusted her swatter within this time, changing it's angle and speeding up. What she saw next had brought a glowing smile to her face; the back end of the bee getting pushed into the rest of it as the swatter bent in the air, taking the bee with as it soared at it's destination. She cheered internally, fireworks and congratulations echoing in her head. The sweet bliss of revenge washing through her as she hopped on the couch in glee. Time had resumed it's natural course, and before she could hop again, she heard a loud crash and a bang. She stopped immediately, all too familiar with the sound of having broken something. With panic, she jumped off the couch and ran to the source of her newfound dread. In the kitchen, she saw the bent and mangled form of her swatter, intertwined with the smashed and cracked pieces of an ornate lamp. The wiring was visible now with how it had no middle, pieces of white colored porcelain with elegant gold lines painted upon them littered the corner. The light bulb hadn't survived the crash. Lyra, worried for her life, danced on her tippy tips of her hoovsies as she realised she had decimated Bon Bon's antique lamp, a lamp that had been passed in her family for at least two generations.

Something was amiss. Behind all of her dread at having destroyed an irreplaceable heirloom, a bit of confusion made It's way into her anxiety riddled mind. The swatter, the wiring, the broken pieces and bulb, something was missing. Two something's were missing.

bzzzz

She spun in an instant, watching as that very thing that had ruined her second perfect day flew through the somehow opened door. It wasn't alone, she had realised with a sense of dread. This bee, this bee, this bee, it was holding the maroon lampshade, the lampshade that went with and completed the utterly annihilated lamp set. She knew, she one in that instance what it was doing, it was spreading a message, a false message of how violent and angry she was as a pony, letting the whole world know that wasn't fit to be in society. How a mare like her had attacked an innocent little bee as it only wanted to go home and would go to the lengths of destroying an important heirloom of her friend just to kill the small insect. Lyra smiled a crazed smile, as the bee had forgotten one thing; it was far from innocent. This disgusting monstrosity of an arthropod had entered her home, spilled her tea, nocked her candle, broke her table, smashed the lamp, and had the audacity to leave without shutting the front door. Her smile grew, as the populace would see how much of a filthy liar this bee was, and praise the brave mare who defended her home from it's evil tendencies.

She ran out from the door and spotted the bee as it carried the lampshade, with an all too cheerful and manic laugh, she summoned up all of her energy into her horn, and let loose the second most powerful blast of magic she had ever released, hitting the bee on the spot. Time had slowed again, allowing her to watch as the bee turned completely black, only its silhouette was visible, slowly breaking apart, it's legs disintegrating, it's wings vaporising, it's body turning to complete and utter ash before she was done. The blast had vanished, the smoke was slowly blown away in the breeze as the ashes fell to the dirt below.

She sneered at the cremated remains of the of her enemy, silently laughing at its failure. Yes, it had annoyed her. Yes, it had destroyed her table. Yes, it had ruined her perfect day, but it failed in delivering the final message. It had failed, and by proxy, she had won. Let this be a message to bees everywhere, that no bee shall get in the way of a mare and her perfect day.

A clearing of the throat had caught her attention, and she froze as she knew who that tone belonged too. She turned with a cringe, looking pitiful as she saw Bon Bon standing next to Fluttershy. The cream colored Earth pony looked at Lyra's disheveled state with a scary mixture contempt and apathy, while the butter yellow Pegasus looked on at the ashes with horror and sadness. Lyra, turned to the ashes and grabbed the burnt-black lampshade and presented it to her mare, only for the lampshade to poof into ash within her hooves.

Let this be a message to everyone out there, you can't get away with murder, you will be caught.

Even if your victims are a lampshade and a bee.

Author's Note

Originally supposed to be a joke story of Lyra exploring the place as if it were a Zelda adventure to kill a fly, then I decided it needed some meat before hand and it it kinda took on a life of it's own and became something else. Something... Very much else in the fifth paragraph, I don't even know where that came from.

Then after about three paragraphs with no dialogue I decided to experiment with writing the whole thing without dialogue.