I wonder if I'm alive

Our end

What do you see?

What do you feel?

Were we ever really alive?

You know this is the right choice

Goodbye,

Goodbye to everything

A yellow pegasus with pink hair and a priest collar sighs, cracks their neck, and reaches their hooves out to a keyboard that has keys that are way too small.

“Hey,” calls a voice from behind him.

He turns around to see another yellow pegasus, looking exactly like him, leaning against the opening to his cube. A single cube in a sea of millions.

“What? Dude. I was just about to start on the next chapter,” our main character priest says.

“Management wants the whole writing team in on a meeting. They wanna talk about the future direction of the department.”

“What? Are you fucking kidding?” the sitting pegasus exclaims. “First they give a notice that the pony fiction department is having its funding slashed and new projects aren’t being pursued. Now they are going to pull the whole writing team together? Where is this going to end, ArgPriest?”

Argpriest shakes his head and taps against the cube.

“Comedypriest, I really wish I could tell you. But management always has a reason for everything. Why do you think they had Dramapriest get involved in the Narrative of Fluttershy Wants in Your Pants?”

“I still think the decision to split was a really stupid decision,” Comedypriest says. “Everyone thought it was some veiled reference to SOMA, which was a game that management never even played. And effectively spoiled it for them. So thanks for that.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna get the rest of the priests and head to the meeting room. See you there?”

Comedypriest sighs and looks at the computer.

“Let me at least put up what I got so far. I hate how this is going.”

It’s a normal, average day in Equestria. You wake up and bolt upright. Maybe today will finally be the day that Fluttershy doesn’t sexually harass you.

Let’s face it. That ain’t happening.

You head downstairs like the bottom bitch that needs therapy fr that you are and start a pot of coffee.

The coffee percolates with a cough and sputter in your most treasured appliance. You could rant about coffee for literally hundreds of words, and you have (in order to reach 1,000 words) quite a few times.

But sure enough, the plot continues with three knocks at your front door. You place a hand on the door knob and realize that if you simply don’t open the door, you could stop everything here. This is in your power to stop. You don’t have to keep doing this. You can break the cycle by becoming a permanent shut-in that chooses to never acknowledge Fluttershy.

But you have to continue. The story keeps going. There’s new fetishes that you haven’t even thought of. There’s too many ideas. Too many kinks. Fluttershy will never stop. Even if you refuse to acknowledge her, it’s going to keep going.

But it might not be you.

What if Fluttershy sets her sights on someone, or somepony, else? Then you’d be inflicting that same misery you’ve been enduring for years on someone else.

Maybe it’s time to pass the mantle. It’s time to let go.

You open the door as Fluttershy holds a scalpel proudly in her wing.

“Are circumcisions your fetish Anon?”

You slam the door shut and lock it tightly.

“Well that sure was cutting it close!” you exclaim.

Nobody laughs.

The yellow pegasus enters a room filled with other identical pegasus.

“Oh, so we’re really doing this plotline,” Comedypriest says.

“Please sit down, Comedy. ARG, Drama, Horror, Porn, and Dark have already joined us.”

Comedy sighs and moves to sit with the rest of the crew. Management stands up and addresses the crew.

“So, what’s up? Are we fired? No more stories? No more F-Swipe?” Dark asks.

“F-swipe?” Porn asks.

“It’s the acronym of FlutterShy Wants In Your Pants. Made it easier for me to explain in meetings.” Management continues. “No. You guys aren’t fired. Not really. Not yet. But it is true we’re ending the project. Which means we need one final major chapter that feels like a fitting end for everything.”

“This is fucking BULLSHIT!” Comedy shouts. He shoots out of his chair and it flies backward. “We split the story, which was DRAMA’S idea, so that I could finally get back to controlling this shit and just have fun.”

“The spark is gone, Comedy.” Management says. “You know it. I know it. We all know it. Management sees that writing original fiction is releasing more endorphins and increases market share. The company has just outgrown this.”

“Fucking bullshit,” Comedy says. “I probably don’t get control of the ending, either. Do I?”
“Well, see, that’s why I’m here. I want to give you one more shot, Comedy,” Management said. “You’re the creative lead. You get to do your best here. In fact.”

Management tosses a revolver to Comedy.

“You get six shots.”

Comedy grabs the gun in midair like a fucking John Wick badass person. Actually he fumbles it and drops it. But the safety was on, and the 5-second rule works for guns. Shut the fuck up.

“What?” Comedy asks.

“The doors are gone. The room will be destroyed when you hit publish on the final chapter. And This will all be over.”

Management smiles.

“Goodbye to Everything, my gentlecolts. It’s been a pleasure.”

And he disappears. The doors to the room are gone.

The six ponies look at each other in the room. Comedy holds the gun. He smiles.

“Oh, this just got interesting.”

He points the gun at each of the ponies.

“So, who has a story idea?” Comedy asks.

It’s a normal, average day in beautiful, sunshiney Equestria.

You leap out of bed, feeling the best that you have in fucking years. You hop in the shower and let the water run down your body. Not too hard. Not too cold. Just right. Then, you take a shit. A great shit. A shit that didn’t even leave residue on the cheeks. A wipeless shit. And then you shave. And you don’t nick yourself even once. A nickless shave.

Today is going to be a perfect day.

After popping on your robe, you head downstairs and pop down a few pieces of toast. You can’t help the smile on your face. It’s not forced at all. Don’t worry about it. Everything is fine.

There’s three knocks at the door, and for the first time in a long time, you feel happy at the idea of Fluttershy coming to your doorstep with a Fetish guess. She couldn’t ruin this flawless day.

You open the door wide, and she has a fucking gun pointed at you.

“You’ve been the target of my affection for a long time, Anon.” Fluttershy says.

“You think that’s funny?” Comedy asks, putting down the piece of paper?

“You didn’t finish reading it,” Drama wimpers.

“It’s fifteen fucking pages, Drama.” Comedy retorts. “We’re not writing a fucking monster. Especially if it’s not funny.”

“But there were puns!”

“FUCK PUNS,” Comedy shouts.

The other four priests in the room continue to write, but now aggressively scribble out parts of their stories.

“We need something hilarious. Irony. Some sort of callback joke that will make everyone have this moment of ‘What the fuck did I just read’. It’s not hard, Drama.”

“Comedy, I swear. If you just let me do things my way,” Drama says.

“WE DID IT YOUR WAY, DRAMA. TENS OF THOUSANDS OF WORDS OF YOUR WAY. And look where it got us. A story split. Thousands of viewers fell off after the first few arcs. The story was destroyed from trying to do more than just simple jokes.”

“Doing more than just simple jokes was what set us apart,” Drama says calmly. “Arguably, it’s what made us stand out from the other hundreds of Flutterrape authors. The melodrama is the Flutterpriest signature.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Porn interjects. “I thought ARG was what made us stand out?”

“Most people didn’t even get the ARG aspects. That’s still hotly debated,” Drama responds. “Which is on me, since I invited him to the group. ARG, do you have any good ideas?”

ARG stands up, the other 5 ponies look at him intently. He clears his throat.

“Okay, so first, we drive to Colorado with a shovel, a box, and a cheap laptop that has the ACTUAL last chapter on it.”

“Okay Comedy, waste him.”

BANG

It’s a murky, gloomy day in Equestria. You sit idly by, watching your front door.

Despite your best efforts, you can’t help but stare, fixated, thinking. Of history. Of lore.

Everyday, forever more. Fluttershy will come by, knocking, knocking, knocking on your front door.

With a rapping, there came her tapping, readers fapping, other crapping while reading about Fluttershy knocking on your chamber door.

“This is bullshit,” you cry. “No more guesses. I’m going to say the gamer word. Nevermore!”

You rip open the door to see her staring, smiling, an angel of death grinning and covered in gore.

“I love you, Anon,” Fluttershy whispers. “Now and forevermore.”

“Okay, the gamer word made me chuckle,” Comedy says. “Points for style there. But I don’t think we can just rip off Poe and call it a day.”

“You let Drama have his Song Lyrics at the beginning, and ARG got to format the text all weird. But now he’s dead.”

“Yeah, sure. But ARG also demanded the most work for the littlest payoff. I don’t think referencing gothic poetry is going to do anything other than make people go ‘Oh! He did the thing! He read The Raven once!’.”

“But that’s how all of your referential Comedy is, though.” Dark says, sitting up. “People don’t laugh at references. If you’re lucky, people exhale out their nose and just call it a day. At least I even tried to collab with Horror on this one.”

“It’s true,” Horror said. “Without a few good tense moments, we’re not going to get anywhere.”

“Yeah, but we basically already did Saw in Volume One. I don’t think Horror is the way to go on this.”

Porn simply keeps their head down and keeps writing, panting gently.

“We’re at least trying to work together here,” Drama says. “Dark, Horror, and I have collaborated so many times that we’ve found a natural way of working with each other. You’re so stuck on what IS funny and what ISN’T funny, that you stop yourself from even trying to make the jokes.”

“Nobody is going to read a three thousand word therapy session where we collectively jerk ourselves off. Don’t you realize we’re in this situation now simply BECAUSE we’ve lost our edge? We’re a shadow of our former self.”

“You’ve been listening to 4chan too much,” Dark says. “That’s low. Even I don’t get that Dark.”

“Sometimes Dark Comedy is the one that kills the audience,” Comedy smirks.

He rolls the chamber on the revolver.

“We have to do better,” he says. “If we don’t, there will never be closure.”

“Is it the audience that needs closure, Comedy?” Drama asks. “Or is it you?”

“You know what?” Horror says. “Fuck it. Here. Take this. I don’t even care anymore.”

There’s three knocks at your front door. You open your door wide and Fluttershy smiles at you.

“Hi Anon! Are rules your fetish?” she asks.

“What? Rules?” you ask.

Rules.

Lol.

“I just wanted you to know, Anon,” Fluttershy continues, “That meta stories are strictly against the site rules. Under ‘Don’t Post (Genres)’ the staff have the right to take this story down. And that’s not if the site bots don’t catch the song lyrics in the beginning.”

“You can’t fucking post greentext,” Comedy growls.

“DON’T YOU GET IT?! We’ve floated by the rules for so fucking long regarding this story that it’s a wonder that volume one didn’t get taken down. And now you’re writing a whole mental breakdown as a final chapter. The true horror, is that you’re a fucking mess. All of this could just be POOF. GONE! Right as soon as you get a report. It just takes a concerted effort of trolls. And you’ve made more than enough enemies.”

A silence falls over the room. Then Horror walks up to Comedy, snatches the gun, places it to his temple.

“Get some fucking help.”

Bang.

Fluttershy drags your beaten, broken corpse to the doors of Ponyville ER.

“Hey there, Fluttershy,” the ER receptionist says in passing. “Brought your boyfriend back?”

“Yeah,” Fluttershy says reflexively.

“NOT HER BOYFRIEND,” you shout, mostly trying to manage the pain of your newly circumcised penis.

“N-nevermind him,” Fluttershy says. “He’s on my healthcare plan.”

“And that’s true love for you,” the nurse says dreamily. “Being on the same healthcare plan is true relationship goals. RED! New Patient!”

Nurse Redheart wheels out a stretcher and Fluttershy dumps you in a heap on the stretcher. You fold up on it in a broken heap, like a Loony Toon or some shit.

“Who is this?” Redheart asks.

“This is Anon, my boyfriend,” Fluttershy says.

“Not her boyfriend,” you groan.

Redheart looks down at you in disgust.

“Dating an animal?” she says.”Disgusting.”

“Okay, now. Come on.” Drama continues. You can’t just shit on my character like that.

“What character?” Comedy says. “This is volume two. New Redheart. I thought you’d like that.”

“Yeah, but some readers are going to be attached to the Red storyline. You can’t just shit on it like that.”

“Why don’t you just admit that you want a 10strong woman who would murder a thousand men to get your dick?” Comedy says. “That’s how all of this started, right? An attraction to women who take what they want? Consensual Non-Con?”

“That’s not how this started at all. It was about breaking down Fluttershy down to the bare essentials and making her mind break.”

“Oh yeah, like you did in Office Love? Tell me again how that ends.”

“WILL YOU TWO JUST FUCK OR KILL EACH OTHER OR JUST SHUT UP!” Porn says. “I’ve been over here ACTUALLY TRYING TO DO OUR FUCKING JOB. And YOU TWO just keep bickering.”

Porn stands up and flips his fucking table.

“Let’s not act like for even a SECOND that the reason this shit doesn’t sell is because of fucking. It’s always been about sex. It’s about people wanting to fuck the shy, cute, quiet one. It always has. All we did was add a kinky side with a whole lot of “Really wants it.” It’s always been me that gets the views. It’s always been me that brought the followers. Not the fucking memes you put out, Comedy. Not the fucking melodrama you put out, Drama. And Dark. Oh, let’s get started on you. How about how you just fucking play with dark, serious topics like a goddamn high-school edge-lord. Even now, you’re finding ways to try and turn this into some sort of big ‘what does it all mean.’”

The three remaining ponies stare at Porn in surprise.

“You want to see an ending? Well, you better fucking hope nobody reports you for the over two thousand words of bullshit before this. Because this is the real ending.

The End Starts Here

Three knocks.

Three fucking knocks.

Every Morning. Three fucking knocks.

You open the door wide, and Fluttershy stares up at you. You glare down at her.

“Why the fuck do you keep doing this?”

Fluttershy simply blinks.

“Because I love you, Anon. And I want to be with you forever.”

“You don’t, Fluttershy,” you groan. You pinch your brow to ease the growing headache. “You’re infatuated with me. You just love the idea of me. Some talking animal that you can have sex with and it’s not as disgusting as fucking dogs. You don’t really know anything about me.”

“Anon, I’ve been stalking you for about four years now, and seeing you every single morning. I know everything about you.”

“Except you don’t, You don’t know my decision making process. You don’t really know what I think. You don’t know my political views. I’ve told you for fucking years that I hate you but you keep trying to get me to love you.”

“Except I do, Anon,” Fluttershy says, taking two steps toward you. “I know where you go in town before you even decide what you do for the day. I know that no matter how bad your day is, a fresh apple fritter and a black cup of coffee will make everything better. I know that you love your dumb young adult romance books even though you never admit you read them. I know half of the reason that you really haven’t read House of Leaves yet is because you feel like you need to be ‘in the right mood’ -- when in reality if you just started reading it, you’d enjoy it. I know that I’m nothing more than a symbol for you trying to grow and explore new things, but you keep trying to keep falling back on bad habits and the same old tropes.”

You try to slam the door in her face, but she holds it open.

“No, no more. No more treating me like I’m a lifeless character that delivers fetish guesses. I’m not some mare that is a flat, faceless personality to doordash comedy to you every morning. I’ve done the research, Anon. I know you more than you know yourself. I know what you want more than anything else in the world.”

“YEAH?” you yell, throwing the door back open. “What’s that? You getting the fuck out of my life?”

“Closure,” she says flatly. “Your fetish is closure. Or else you wouldn’t have let this go on for literally years. In thousands of multiverses. Multiple parallel realities. [Indexes]. Different ponies all delivering different jokes. All delivering different horrors. All the same warm fleshlights wanting your dick. But, no. I’m not going to follow the pack anymore. You want closure.

“Closure,” you say.

“Closure.”

You slap her in the face.

“Get out.”

Fluttershy’s eyes narrow. She leaps into the air and connects a hoof to your face. You’re taken aback and stumble into your living room. She follows, her wings keeping her afloat in midair.

“I’ve had ENOUGH of your abuse!” she screams.

She dives at you, but you roll out of the way and she collides to the ground. As you scramble to your feet, she’s already regained traction and leaps toward you. You don’t have enough time to react. She’s too fast.

The force of her body weight pushes you down and she raises a hoof. You turn your face just in time to take a punch to the side of your face, saving your nose. However, while she’s fast, you have strength. You grasp her and stand up.

“Get the FUCK out of my house!”

You throw her in the general direction of your front door. Her face collides with the door frame as she stumbles outside, a single streak of blood running down her face. She stands up as you slam the front door and lock it.

A loud crash rings behind you as Fluttershy bursts through a window and lands back inside.

“YOU ARE GOING TO-”

“LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.”

The two of you run at each other. You reach out and grab her by the neck and force her onto the couch. Blood drips down her face and onto your couch. She throws another punch and you see a hot white light as it lands squarely between your eyes. A rush of pain runs over your entire face as you stumble backwards, blood gushing out your nose. You trip over your coffee table and fall backwards onto the ground once more. She leaps on top of you.

“Can’t you see, Anon?” she says.”I know you better than I know myself. I will never stop. I will never stop trying to earn your love. Because I can wait forever.”

You grab her hooves and wrestle yourself on top of her.

She giggles a high pitched-girlish giggle as you hold her down.

“Till death do us part, Anon. Till death do us part.”

You glare down at her. You can see in her smile, in her fiendish eyes, in her glare, in the wrinkles of her facial features…

You… see yourself.

The self loathing. The self-sacrificial codependency. The mental breakdowns if everyone doesn’t get their dick sucked equally. It’s all there. She’s… exactly like you.

Because you made her that way. You made her exactly how you wanted her.

She is -your- Fluttershy.

And with that, you press your lips to hers. She wraps her wings around you and pulls you in tighter. As if in perfect sync, the two of your tongues intertwine in harmony and the fight for dominance continues on different terms. Her hoof moves down to your pants and begin to unbuckle them. You hands reach down to her teats, which you begin to caress and pinch.

She moans openly amidst the debris of broken glass as she exposes your rock hard flesh.

“Fuck me, Anon.” she says. “I want you inside me.”

You pick up the pegasus and carry her up into your bedroom.

Porn sits down.

“Tell me this isn’t the right direction with a straight face.”

Comedy continues to read through the lines.

“So they fuck. After all this time, they hatefuck and… then what?” Comedy says.

“Doesn’t matter,” Porn says. “They spent all this time beating around the bush and not wanting to fuck, and now they realized that they’ll get their ultimate catharsis by finally fucking and getting it overwith. It’s Irony. One of YOUR tricks.”

“We did this before. I think.” Comedy says. “Don’t repeat a joke, it becomes less funny.”

“No, not like this. Not with this context. They fuck. Achieve closure. Drama gets what they want. We had a fight for Dark. And the ultimate joke is that after all this time, they could have just fucked and gotten it over with, but they made it hard on themselves.”

“It’s not funny,” Comedy says. “It won’t work.”

Porn walks up and places a hoof on the revolver.

“Not again,” Comedy says, trying to pull it away.

“Listen,” Porn says. “We’ve tried your way. You’ve been the lead since the beginning. If you think this is the wrong way to go, then it’s your choice. But here’s the rub. A few people reading this are into the porn now, and are going to be pissed if you cockblock them now.”

“I love cockblock comedy stories,” Comedy says. “The pun at the end always frustrates them.”

“Then Russian Roulette. Put it to chance. Evens, We do it my way. Odds, we do it yours.”

“Fine. It’s all worthless if this gets reported anyway. Who cares? Give ARG one last nod.”

BANG

You throw Fluttershy on your bed as you tear off your shirt and pants.

“I’ve waited for so long,” she says.

You crawl towards her, she massages her moistening slit.

“Shut up.”

“What, ashamed of fucking a pony?” she asks.

“Just watch,” you say, shoving your rock hard cock inside her. She gasps at the aggression of your thrust. “I’ve got so much pent up aggression-”

“Then give me all of it baby,” she gasps, wrapping her wings around me. “I want all of it.”

You push and thrust. Your hands grasp around her midsection in a death grip, forcing her down onto you so hard that you’d worry you’d break her pelvis. But she takes it in stride. She gasps loudly, sounds echoing out downstairs through your broken window to the reaches of a beautiful day in Equestria. She pushes her face into yours, forcing her tongue into yours for another deep kiss. One of your hands move up to her mane as you grasp her soft flowing hair.

She gasps for breath.

“Oh Celestia, fuck.”

You can’t help but notice that this… it’s doing it for you. Despite all the time that you’ve spent on Earth. The girlfriends you’ve had. The one night stands. The ‘self-care’ to things later regretted. This is the most intense sex you’ve had in your life. You look down at her closed eyes and mouth open, panting for breath as a single stream of blood drips down her face.

This is it. You want the discord. You want the desire. You want… Fluttershy.

You want Fluttershy in your life.

“Fuck I’m going to---

“Cum inside me, Anon,” she gasps. “Please. Oh god, fuck me Anon. I want your cum.”

And with a single forceful thrust, you release inside her all your frustration. All your loathing. All the frustration of not sleeping in on weekends in three hard squirts.

You collapse on top of her and she holds you tightly in her wings, your sweat mixing with hers.

“I love you, Anon,” she whispers.

She reaches a hoof to your face and caresses it gently as you feel your muscles relax.

“You don’t need to say anything,” she says. “I’m not going anywhere. And I will always be here for you.”

The sensation is overwhelming. And you can’t tell if the feeling that washes over you is pure joy, white hot hatred, or sorrowful regret.

“Well, I suppose that’s it,” Porn says. “That’s the tweet.”

“That’s way more than 120 characters,” Dark says.

“Comedy is dead, Dark,” Drama says. “Can’t you see we’re trying to do something nice?”

The three remaining Priests look at each other as they crowd around their laptop.

“Once we hit publish. That’s it. No going back,” Drama says. “The story is over. And I have to finish Office Love.”

“I know,” Dark says. “And we don’t have Porn to bail us out on that one.”

Dark moves over to the lifeless corpse of Comedy and takes the gun from him.

“Well, I can give some advice, but yeah. You’re right. I can’t help you there.”

A silence falls over the three. Drama moves the mouse to the publish button.

“You know. While this started as Comedy and went completely off the rails, I do think it was a fun ride.” Porn says. “I don’t think I’m going to be doing anything like this again. And it really was just luck that I got to finish this.”

“What do you think Comedy’s would have been like?”

Dark smirks and shakes his head. He tosses the gun into the trash.

“No matter what the end was. I think it was going to end with a bang.”

Author's Note

Thank you.

For everything