Anthology of Graybles

by str8aura

Rating: everyone
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Slice of Life, Anthology, Main 6
Length: 67799

Or: Stories from the Suggestion Bin

A collection of stories inspired by picture prompts on Reddit. To be updated (hopefully) every Thursday. whenever I feel like it apparently.

I can't believe this collection has been up for this long without me ever crediting my good friend Casketbase77, who provides over 3/4ths of the prompts used in the making of these. I'll always remember you, Dasket.

Published 2019-12-20 04:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2022-10-23 17:36:26 UTC

Two Sides Of A Coin (Pinkie; Sad/Hopeful)

"Good morning, grumpy-pants. Haven't seen you in a while! What's the occasion?"

Pinkamena miserably looked up to stare at herself in the mirror. The real version of herself, not the monotone copy of her on the real side of the mirror.

She had been lightly surprised to find herself in control when she woke up, and that naturally meant the real Pinkie would be finding some ways to express herself without the use of a physical form; in most cases, it was pseudo-hallucinations that made Pinkamena question her already questionable mental health.

"Same as always. It's only ever one reason. Maybe you're up late last night thinking about futility, or you felt like you've disappointed a friend. Whatever it is that day, it's the only reason I ever come out of my birdcage."

"Aw, don't be like that. Admittance is the first step to recovery. So, let's play 'Whaaaaat's Eatiiiiing Pinkie Pie!!'"

She pantomimed a trumpet, and leaned against her side of the glass. Pinkamena sighed, and Pinkie seemed to calm down, sitting up straight and politely waiting for her to explain. She gathered her thoughts together and picked up a comb, wondering if she could restore the natural pompf of her hair. She knew it was fruitless; her hair seemed to have a mind of it's own. Just another mystery of herself.

"It's a lot of things. Mostly me."

"Sing out, sister."

"I mean me-me. Pinkamena. I don't know what I am."

"Don't be silly. You're me!"

"No, I'm not you. I don't know if I'm a split personality, or a hallucination, or a mental disorder that'll disappear after you take those pills Redheart gave you; but I'm not Pinkie, and I don't know which side of the mirror I'm on."

She looked up again, and saw Pinkie smiling and listening attentively. After a moment of silence, she leaned in and took Pinkamena's hoof. She didn't question how this happened; it was just nice to be able to touch her.

"That day, when you saw the Rainboom, I saw the happiest filly I've ever seen, and it almost made me break down, because that was me, and I could never be that filly again. After that, I just... Became this. A disorder. A problem that scared your friends and only existed at the worst times."

"Is that what you think of yourself? Just a sad shadow of me?"

"What else am I?"

She leaned in more, and touched her forehead to Pinkamena's softly.

"You're me. You're us. There doesn't have to be a 'Real' me or a 'Fake' me, and we don't have to be two halves of the same coin. I can be bummed out without you taking over, and I know with all of my heart that you can be happy."

She guided Pinkamena's hoof to the drawer, and gently opened it. A bottle of pills was inside. She stared down at it as Pinkie smiled.

"I want to fix you. I want to fix us. And we can recover! We can be Pinkie."

She picked up the bottle, and poured a couple of pills into her hoof, gently shaking them around as she looked up at the mirror expectantly. That happy filly smiled back, and the room warmed up. And she popped them into her mouth.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Bag of Tricks (Trixie; Slice Of Life/Comedy)

"Hope you second rate star-chasers were betting on me being the most intelligent woman in the room yet again, because I figured it out. In one of my incredibly rare mistakes, I accidentally used the wrong matrix and combined a Mimic spell with an Amygdala Fusion spell."

"How do we know any of those words mean anything?"

"Because I said them. Are you seriously trying to tell me that a whorse who sells cocaine and illegal fireworks on her spare time knows more than a scientist who happens to be Celestia's star pupil?"

Twilight sneered at Trixie, who was already beginning to realize this was going to be a long three minutes. Fuming, she sat back on the couch next to Starlight and Sunset.

Who both happened to look a lot like her at the moment.

"For those who are too ignorant to understand, the spell made us all look like the dictionary definition of washed up and gave us part of her personality as well. In case it wasn't obvious, I got the best part."

The blue-furred, silver-maned Twilight stuck her muzzle up high before turning back to the spell matrix blueprints on the table. Trixie stuck out her tongue as soon as she turned around, and looked at the other two Trixie's. Sunset nervously smiled and waved at her, and Starlight leaned her head on Trixie's shoulder and smiled at her. She was quickly shaken off.

"I can't believe that stuck up, anthropomorphized Dollar Tree sparkler would put Trixie down like this. Has she been this rude to you two?"

"Yeah, but, I mean, it's not like what she said was wrong. She's always right." Sunset cautiously replied, keeping her head down.

"Oh, she's always been like that. Just ignore her, you're so much more than her anyway." Starlight purred at her, awkwardly trying to lie across her lap.

"Trixie is confused by you three. Twilight Snarkle over there says you each have my personality, but she's just rude, you're shy, an you're... I don't want to know what personality trait you inherited, Starlight. None of those sound like me."

"Yeah, believe me Princess Homeless, having our entire personality traits reduced to one word isn't fun for us either. I don't have time to psychoanalyse Seafood Dinner and Pancake Flipper like a Tumblr user starved of physical affection. Let me kill part of my brain in peace."

"She's right, Lula. You don't need to worry about everything so much, just relax."

Trixie sighed as Starlight nuzzled her head into her lap some more.

"I think I'm bad juju," Sunset piped up quietly, "Everytime I come to this dimension, something goes wrong. Maybe I should just-"

"*You're going to stay here and get us all back to normal!*"

The room fell quiet after Trixie's outburst. She covered her mouth and looked over at Twilight, who just smiled and turned back to her work. Sunset slowly slid back onto the couch she had been getting up from.

"im sorry."

"No, Sunset, that's my bad. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"Don't be like that, Trixie-gal. You did nothing wrong. You just wanted her to be back to normal." Starlight reached up to stroke Trixie's mane, and she held her head in her hooves.

"Am I the only one of you psychological palette swaps who has any sense about them? That trick pony may hold herself on the same pedestal as Faust, but she hasn't done anything."

Before she could get out a word, Starlight immediately leapt to her defense, snapping at Twilight.

"She's trying to reform, why can't you recognize that?"

"It's hard to when she's still too oblivious to pull off a simple teleportation spell! Oh yeah, don't think I don't know about that, dear sweet Toothpaste mane!"

"You're nothing special either, Twilight. You're just a bitter old mare who can't let anyone be happy!"

"Is that what you think? I am a genius. What does the emo teenager think? Well, Sunnybuns?

"QUIET!"

Not a minute after her first one, Trixie burst out again, tipping over the coffee table with the force of getting up. Sunset and Starlight shank back, and Twilight smirked again.

"I AM SICK OF YOU! ALL OF YOU! IT'S BAD ENOUGH TO HAVE TO DEAL WITH MYSELF EVERYDAY, I DON'T WANT TO SPEND ANYMORE TIME WITH THE VARIOUS LAYERS OF MY SUBCONSCIOUS! I DON'T WANT TO ANALYZE HOW I FEEL ABOUT MYSELF, I DON'T WANT TO COME TO TERMS WITH MYSELF, I JUST WANT YOU TO GO BACK TO NORMAL! TWILIGHT, FINISH THE SPELL!"

Twilight nodded in approval and began charging her horn.

"SUNSET, WHAT MATTERS IS YOUR DEVELOPMENT AS A CHARACTER! YOU SHOULDN'T STOP TRYING TO MAKE UP FOR YOUR PAST, BUT YOU ALSO NEED TO UNDERSTAND THAT YOU'RE A BETTER PERSON NOW! TERRIBLE PEOPLE DON'T ACKNOWLEDGE THAT THEY'RE TERRIBLE!"

Sunset shrunk back and whimpered, but nodded nonetheless.

"STARLIGHT! I DON'T KNOW IF YOU'RE THE EMBODIMENT OF MY LOVE FOR MYSELF, OR MY LOVE FOR YOU, OR WHATEVER, BUT I... I... I APPRECIATE THAT YOU RECOGNIZE MY FLAWS AND LOVE ME NONETHELESS!"

Starlight nervously made a thumbs up out of magic in the air and let it dissipate.

Trixie took one more deep breath, and collapsed to the ground, holding her head and trying to shake out the knots forming inside it. She barely even noticed when the spell activated and her friends began to transform around her. She had decided that she was too sick of herself to care anymore.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Thing (OC; Slice Of Life)

"I just don't think there's any reason for someone in this day and age to learn fire magic."

"You live in one of the most frequently attacked and invaded towns in Equestria, it just feels like free insurance at this point."

Cran Cherry rolled her eyes and stirred her tea absentmindedly. Ocean Spray sipped his own and patiently waited for Cherry to retort sarcastically for lack of an actual argument.

It was every bit as lovely a day as the weather schedule had promised, and seeing as these were becoming a rarity the closer December drew, Ocean had gladly taken up his friends offer to come over, have some tea, and enjoy themselves before the holiday season became too hectic. It had been a pleasant visit so far, although Ocean was beginning to wonder if Cherry had a dog of some sort she had never mentioned, as the heavily chewed pillows on the couches seemed to imply.

As he pondered how to politely bring it up, he thought he noticed a reflection of light from inside a vent under the ceiling, and was about to dismiss it as a trick of the light until he adjusted his glasses and realized what was hidden in it. A pair of large, amber eyes were peering out through the metal bars, with what looked like a third farther back in the shadows.

"Um... Cherry, dear, may I ask what-?"

The vent cover fell to the ground with a clatter, and a mass of fur was flying out before Ocean could scream. Just as soon as he was beginning to register the shifting shape, it quickly fell into the solid form of a beaver colored pony a few inches shorter than him with a darker shade of hair, smiling up. It's ears rotated around and it perked up when Cherry called him,

"Thing! There you are, I haven't seen you all day!"

Thing whipped around and gasped happily upon seeing her. Ocean's brain's gears were finally starting to become ungummed when the pony-shaped creature suddenly opened it's mouth unnaturally wide, to the lengths that it's lower jaw seemed to be hanging by two strings of flesh, and uncurled a long, roughly textured tongue, holding out a single daisy to Cherry, thoroughly soaked but otherwise unharmed. She covered her mouth in excited surprise.

"Did you get that for me? Thing, that's so sweet of you!"

Thing happily gave up the daisy, and Cherry took a long sniff before putting it behind her ear. Ocean could smell the foul liquid coating it from the other side of the table, but figured he had bigger concerns at the moment.

"Cherry, dear friend, with all due respect, what the hell is that?"

"Have I never told you about Thing?"

"I think I would remember."

"I'm so sorry! I would've introduced you sooner!"

"Believe me, it's not a problem."

The aptly named creature happily trotted over to Ocean and nuzzled it's head into his leg. He noticed an impressive set of fangs visible through a few small holes along her muzzle and throat, strangely enough.

" I found her scavenging for food on an abandoned train platform after I mistook it for the platform I take to work. He seemed so friendly, I figured I'd offer her a place to stay! I'm still not entirely sure whether it's more ethical to treat him as a very intelligent dog or a simpler minded adult Mare."

"And the... body horror?"

"I'm not too sure what's up with that, honestly. But he's never tried to hurt me, although she enjoys trying to give me a scare every once in a while, so I've never questioned it!"

"Wait, what gender is Thing?"

"Who knows, honestly. I'm certainly not going to check."

Ocean Spray hesitantly looked down at Thing again, only to find the creature had somehow disappeared in the five seconds Ocean hadn't been watching it. He sat straight up and turned around to a gaping maw, filled with asymmetrically placed fangs. Before he could react, it had snapped shut, and the inside rapidly tightened, shoving Ocean downwards to fall in an enclosed, foul-smelling sac. He heard faint shouting outside, and began frantically shoving against the fleshy rings surrounding him before being unceremoniously pushed up again and falling back onto his chair in a heap. As he began coughing, he looked up to see Thing's sheepish grin, which would've resembled cuteness had it not still been overflowing with teeth. Cherry ran to her guest's side and helped him up.

"Sorry about that! Thing does that sometimes, it just means he likes you!"

He glared at the creature, and it grabbed his glasses of the table and offered them to him, seemingly trying to apologize.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Airport Security (OC; Comedy)

Panam rubbed his nose and sighed as the alarm on the baggage check began blaring. It was going to be a long day.

Airport Security wasn't a very hard job normally; Terror attacks were incredibly rare, and even the occasional wacko or aggressive lady who insisted on bringing her every earthly possession with her and saw demanding to see the manager as a formal greeting often weren't more than a minor annoyance. As such, he admitted that he occasionally slacked off or zoned out. He never thought him to be too bad, but seeing as he apparently missed the cyborg pony, he was beginning to re-think this.

The pony in question was currently sitting on his rump, cocking his head at Panam with a chipper but curious smile. He didn't appear to have a mane of any kind, and instead wore a visored pilot helmet with ears sticking straight up through holes on the sides. Upon closer inspection, the helmet appeared to be the top half of his head, rather than sitting on top of it, with a small dip behind the visor for his eyes to sit. The pair of wings suggested he was a Pegasus, but they were made entirely of metal, with several plates folded over each other against his furred barrel to give the appearance of individual feathers. A smaller, similarly folded set of wings sat in the place of cutie marks on his haunches, and a metallic fin adorned his rump. If it weren't for the metal and flesh blending into each other at midpoints along the bases of his wings, Panam would've assumed he had come cosplaying an aeroplane.

The plane-thing had certainly noticed Panam's hesitation, and began nervously shifting his metal feathers.

"Sir? Is everything alright? I didn't mean to trip the sensor, but I don't think I can take these off-"

"Let's start one thing at a time. What's your name?

"Aileron. Like these feathers!"

"How old are you?"

"Three."

"So you're a teenager who came to the airport on his own?"

"Well, yes, but I had a good reason!"

"What's that?"

"I've never flown in an official airspace before, and I wanted to try!"

Panam sighed again. He really had nothing to go off for this kid. On one hand, it was an unattended minor in a building where nonsense was strictly prohibited, but on the other hand it was a plane in the airport. One thing at a time.

"With all due respect, son, What are you exactly?"

His leg began nervously twitching and he averted his eyes to the ground, stammering.

"well, um, that's not a bad question. I'm preeetty sure I'm a Pegasus Pony, just with metal parts, but... I also miiiight be an AI built for flying of some sort? I honestly don't know. I always kind of have some nagging instincts when I'm in the air, and I'm like, yeah, I CAN store cargo in me, but I don't think I really SHOULD? Is that weird?"

"Were you made in a factory or something?"

"Actually, my mom kinda built me. Not really sure why, maybe she just thought plane-ponies were cool. She isn't my biological mother, obviously, but she lets me call her mom. She's pretty cool. B-but she also used brain patterns from actual pegasi, so I could still be a Pegasus..?"

"Where is she?"

"She doesn't really care what I do too much, she can always fix what get's broken. So she tends to let me go wherever I want, and I decided to come here!"

Panam curiously ran his hoof along the Aileron's wings, feeling the cold metal shift into warm fur as he ran down it. Aileron shifted uncomfortably, and he quickly realized what he was doing and retracted.

"Hey, like, we could talk about philosophical questions and whether I'm a real boy and whatnot all day, but I really just came for one thing. I've been kind of down lately, and I thought, maybe if I could make an actual delivery or something I could feel better! You work here, right? Can't you just give me a package or something and-"

"It's not illegal for pegasi to fly with packages. Just don't go into plane traffic."

"But to fly in an official airspace, using the radio frequencies to schedule takeoffs, that's everything I've ever dreamed of! Pleeease?"

He gave Panam his best puppy eyes, vaguely obscured by the wavy lights reflected off the visor. Panam was never weak to cuteness, but he had began to formulate a kind of plan.

"Look, kid, I work security here. I can't just let you fly in government regulated airspaces, that's far too dangerous."

"I've been destroyed before!"

"But! I have a Christmas present I was going to mail later today, so if you want this this badly, I'll give it to you, and then when I get off work we can schedule a mock takeoff over walkie-talkies or something-"

"I've got my own, built in! I can tell you my radio frequency!"

"That'd be great. I'll give you the address, and you can-"

"Thank you! Thank you so much, that'd be perfect!"

Aileron jumped on him, wrapping his wings around him gratefully. Panam awkwardly pet him on the head, and then realized he wasn't letting go.

"Cold metal is driving into my chest. Please get off."

"Sorry sir."

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Snow Day (Flurry Heart, Changeling; Sad/Slice Of Life

"Hi."

Flurry curiously poked her head up from behind the wall of snow she had been happily building for the past couple of minutes. It was her birthday, and her parents had graciously allowed her to waste away the morning playing in the newly fallen snow. Apparently she had been more invested in building her snow castle than she thought, because she hadn't even noticed the filly come up to her.

"Hi! I'm Flurry Heart! What's your name?"

"I'm... Coxa."

Flurry trotted up to her as she tried to hide behind her mane, and she noticed a few off details about her. She had a horn and wings, suggesting an Alicorn, but they both seemed warped; The horn was crooked, sharp, and missing a large chunk, while the wings were insectoid in appearance, while also bearing large holes in them. She wore a large pink scarf around her neck, slightly matted with dried mud, and tied around her neck with a plastic heart clip.

"Are you an Alicorn?"

"No, I'm... a changeling..."

"What's that?"

Coxa curiously looked up at Flurry, cocking her head questioningly.

"You... Don't know?"

"Why would I?"

"It's... um, like a bug-pony.. I guess?"

"Oh. That sounds pretty cool!"

Coxa smiled, seeming to brighten up a little at the compliment. As she opened her mouth to say something (showing off a single fang Flurry had initially failed to notice), a pink firework went off in the distance, startling them both. When Flurry looked back, a black, hairy spider was in Coxa's place, cowering in the snow. The spider looked up, revealing bright blue eyes, and she shifted back, still shaken up.

"What was that?

"What was that?"

"People are celebrating my birthday, I think. I'm kinda popular here. I'm a princess! But why did you turn into a spider?

"That's just something I can do. I can't hold it for very long, but I can turn into other creatures. I think that's why we're called Changelings?"

"That's cool! Can you turn into me?"

Coxa circled Flurry, trying to take in every detail, before concentrating as hard as she could. Blue flames washed over her slowly, and in her place was a pony resembling a childish drawing of Flurry. Several details helped push it into uncanny valley, like the large eyes sticking out, the wings that seemed painted on, and the horn that still bore the telltale hole. As her lips moved, they constantly waved back to black chitin like her face had a bad television signal.

"I know it's not very good, but you kinda put me on the spot-"

"It's really good! I like it!"

"You.. you think so?"

"It looks like a watercolor portrait!"

As she talked, Coxa's form became more shaky, until she finally dropped it, sighing in relief as if a large weight had been taken off her back. Flurry giggled and leaned in to boop her snout, further perplexing her.

"Wha-What did you do that for?"

"You're kind of cute for a little bug monster! You wanna play in the snow?

Coxa seemed pleased at the offer, but then shrunk back suddenly, looking down at the snow. After a moment of silent thought, she cleared her throat and pulled out something tucked between her neck and scarf, handing it to Flurry. Upon taking it, she was surprised to see a picture of her dad, sleeping and smiling with the hints of early morning light shining on his bed.

"I came here for a reason, sort of... I was told, that, um, I might be able to find the guy in the photo here?"

"That's my dad! What do you want him for?"

"That's your dad?"

"Yeah? Why?"

"Because... my mom told me... that that's my Dad."

Flurry stared at her, trying to comprehend. Coxa suddenly felt like crying again; it had been going so well, and now she was going to hate her again- oh god, she should've just left, and-

"Does that mean we're sisters?

"I... Guess so?"

"That means you're a princess!"

"Y... Yeah?"

FLurry leaped on her, collapsing them both to the ground, and wrapped Coxa in the biggest hug she could give.

"Oh, Celestia! I've never had a sister! I need to tell Dad-"

"Wait! We can't tell him!"

"Why not? Isn't that why you came here? to find him?"

"I suppose so, but... can we play a little more before we go inside? I've actually never seen snow before."

"Of course! Oh, I'll need to tell you everything we can do in the snow! We'll make snow Alicorns, and have snowball fights- Oh! Do you think you can turn into a dragon? We can play Knights! Hey, let's see if you can hold a snowball in that hole on your horn? Does it feel weird when something's in there?"

Flurry jumped off her while continuing to babble. Coxa sheepishly rubbed her wings together, before deciding to enjoy the time they had and following after her.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Prison Break (Starlight,Trixie;Comedy

"Stick your hoof out, you're pulling me in."

"If I lean out any further, they'll pull me down when they come in- the chain needs to be taut!"

If there was any proof in Equestria that Starlight Glimmer and Trixie Lulamoon would bicker and fight through Ragnarok's apex it was the scene currently unfolding in a remote prison cell near the Zebrica-Equestria boundary. Never has the relationship between mom friend and feral gremlin been better captured than the relationship between the two pseudo-national heroes, and never had said relationship waned more forcefully than on the day they failed to successfully hide a body while on a cross-country friendship mission going exactly how you'd expect a quest to solve a dysfunctional friendship hosted by two ponies with a dysfunctional friendship to go.

Which is why, after a series of further screw ups regarding a foreign legal system and several impressive feats of moronics, our two heroines currently find themselves in a high security prison, having learned nothing and achieved no personal growth one tends to find in such a situation. And so, without this important revelation of character present, the only logical solution for Horse Harold and Kumar was to escape and await inevitable forgiveness, after a lengthy discussion about why murder is wrong Trixie had already heard a great many times.

"Can you reach the bed? I still can't use telekinesis with this magic suppressor." Starlight nodded at the metal bedframe at the corner of their room, precariously propped against the wall in such a way carefully calculated to make a metric fuckton of noise.

"Don't worry; Trixie will gladly pick up the slack." Trixie smugly replied, taking aim and bucking as hard as she could. The frame fell like a redwood with a fourth of the grace, tossing soundwaves like the Molotovs held by their current neighbor in a strategically useless location on his own body.

Sure enough, the sound of rapid clopping and hastily shaking keys were soon heard, and a presumably tattooed Zebra guard pulled the door open to the hallways and immediately tripped over the chain spread across the doorway, chin hitting the bedframe with an audible crack.

The newly elected fugitives broke into an awkward seven-legged race out the door, shocking a nearby guard long enough for Trixie to snag his outfit on her horn and toss him over the rails to the cells below with a "Heilige fokken kak!" fading out as they ran.

Starlight made a sharp turn towards a metal staircase, yanking Trixie along as she turned to stick her tongue out at other cellmates, bursting onto the catwalk with the style and grace of Lanky Kong. Trixie's struggle to keep up was suddenly kicked down a notch on her list of priorities as she tripped, falling off the poorly built catwalk and slamming Starlight into the guardrails as she struggled to keep running from the guards slowly gaining behind her, aided by the lack of Unicorn Butt serving as a ball and chain. Finally reaching an open door, Starlight reached over the rails, pulling Trixie up by her tail and dropping her chest-up in front of the closest guard, prompting her to instinctually buck out and catch him in the jaw before being dragged off along the ground.

A metal desk was shoved in front of the door, and Trixie took her precious moment of peace to catch her breath before once again being yoinked towards Starlight as she rifled through several lockers.

"Trixie, help me find our stuff. Do you still have those lockpicks?"

"This lock on this is too small for those ascended paperclips, and besides, Trixie is kind of digging it."

"Well, Starlight is not digging her magic suppressor, so we still need it." Starlight suddenly ceased conversation until she found her goal; a literal purple paperclip, bent into a fashionably prisonpunk lockpick. She yanked Trixie towards her again, and quickly undid her suppressor before tossing it to her. The door was burst open just as one last piece of metal hit the ground for that day. Before a baton could be drawn, the room was filled with smoke, several blasts of light filled the room, and by the time the room was clear again, two guards were unconscious, one was a teacup, one had suddenly appeared in between the ribcage and lungs of an unpleasantly surprised Manticore several miles away, and one had unexpectedly switched brains with a Minotaur wheat farmer working in a foreign field.

As Starlight and Trixie continued their speedrun shortcut through prison, Trixie began to notice her partner's horn flickering multiple times, producing sparks.

"Something wrong you'd like to tell Trixie, dearest friend?"

"Something's stopping me from teleporting myself, even though I had no problem teleporting that guard. I didn't know they even used magic."

"Just teleport me, and I'll teleport you."

"I do not trust your teleportation at that range. If I was under a little less stress I could probably think up a loophole, but we're almost at the door anyway, so I've got a better idea. Trixie?"

"Yes?"

"Spread your legs out."

"Is this really the time-"

She was cut off by her sudden introduction to the back of a tower guard's head, suddenly becoming his face as it whipped away from his gun and towards her with wide eyes. She obediently spread her legs, successfully knocking him over and into the soft snow below before space was folded yet again to drop her back into her previous position, tripping from the sudden setting change and being dragged through the snow as Starlight kept running without breaking a sweat, leaving the gates behind as several alarms sluggishly went off.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Octavo (Twilight; Dark)

Twilight Acorna Sparkle, age 27 in most forms of human years, seen currently with her muzzle buried in a book, as per the norm. Student of one of the glorious diarchs of Equestria and well-known resident of the small village of Ponyville, already the site of multiple dangerous, unsettling, or vaguely odd happenings since the day it was founded. For the residents, these have become everyday life, and yet still are these happenings natural; part of an easily understandable and recognizable food chain ponies have managed to escape with their easy access to raw magic.

It is that which can't be understood that Ms. Sparkle is currently studying, and being only equine, she must understand this by the end of the night in order to rest easy. Rain pours outside, the Moon lovingly wraps the land in it's lullaby, and the light of Twilight's torch continues to burn as our subject today reads on.

She first became consciously aware of the oddities she studied several weeks ago, shortly after the unexplained destruction of Devil's Reef, a coral reef located deep in the ocean bordering Manehattan, and the subsequent body washed up on it's docks several days later. Said body receiving widespread media attention due to it's unnatural texture and the odd lack of lungs, or a head for that matter. Although omitted by the news, the obvious connection was immediately made by the public, and whispers of a secret war-thirsty society of Sea Ponies were passed for a short time later before being largely forgotten. Nonetheless, it was enough to pique Twilight's interest.

While absentmindedly researching the various conflicting myths of Sea Ponies, she became sucked into the realm of cryptids and strange encounters, struggling to find a reasonable explanation, and only finding more questions; stories of attempted scryings into the space between spheres that only yielded brief glimpses of strange flying carcinous creatures, whispers of a fate watching being dubbed "Mother Horse Eyes", and the repeated sightings of abominations in and around various towns such as Innsmuzzle, Arkham, and Dunwich.

These findings baffled and infuriated her more, until she finally came to the book she now reads; a book of collected scribblings, texts, and papers collected by a Mr. Angell and originally created by believers in a being who will bring about the end times to all but his most trusted followers. As her mind silently ruminates on names and figures, she begins to piece together the understandings of said believers, and their chant uttered in rituals akin to those of Nightmare Moon's followers.

"Ph'nglui mglw'naf-", she silently whispers to herself, before stiffening and abruptly stopping. She takes a moment to make sure nothing has changed before continuing on with her study.

As she turns a page, a cube of text instantly draws her eyes, overshadowing everything else on the page and locking her mind onto them. Although the line is short, she finds herself re-reading it again and again, becoming more feverish until she becomes wholly unable to pull her eyes away. As she looks over them, becoming acutely aware of her loss of functions. seven words are branded into her subconscious, and the thaumic nerves leading into her horn are pushed to their limits. Without realizing it, she is uttering each word; carefully and one by one, the syllables force themselves out of her throat and from out between her teeth, greeting the world with a cold aura that fills the room like the light from her torch.

"Ashonai, Ebiris, Urshoring, Kvanti, Pythan, N'gurad, Feringomalee!"

At the last word, her horn glowed brightly, and her iris sunk back into a milky white light flowing out of her eyes. At once, her mind was filled with a vision beyond that which she had ever witnessed; a limitless scry beyond any plane of sight, as she sees for the first time the universe as it was; images of doorways of flesh, a pulsating form of malevolence, sound twisted into something beyond form, and billions of galaxies winking in and out of existence flash before her in an instant. At the end of that instant, she beholds a great explosion, brighter than anything she has ever seen, far out into the void, creating form ex nihilo and destroying that which isn't, and just as her eyes open and she musters the energy to scream-

It's over. She sits alone in her living room, with a torch lighting up the book before her, and the room is quiet for a long minute.

Observe Twilight Acorna Sparkle, resident of a world far from ours jerk her head up to a faint yet powerful thump. Ruminate on her natural, equine quest for knowledge as she raises her head to a window, peering through the rain. And learn, try to learn from the story of a girl you will never meet, whose mistakes will never affect you, and whose knowledge will never be yours as she sees the distant shape of a figure raising his head to the heavens and crying out to all who may hear him.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Dark Knight (OC; Comedy)

Lightning flashed outside Brute's peripheral vision, illuminating the musty room and mildly startling him into flicking an ear. Next to him, he saw Mook briefly lose grip on the metal bat he held and tilting his head to recover before it slipped out of his jaws.

Thunder followed soon after, pulling him fully back into the waking world and coyly reminding him that, at the end of the day, no matter how important he was in his fantasies, at the end of the day he was guarding a hostage in an abandoned warehouse. Super.

As he mentally back tracked through his life, trying to find the source of his current problems and willfully ignoring his mothers naming of him, Brute caught a glimpse outside and a grey wing passing by one of the barred holes providing moonlight. Despite assuming it at first to just be another common mutated pigeon, his attention was further spiked by a silhouette suddenly illuminated by more lightning. Brute's eyes widened, and he frantically began comparing the mental snapshot to as many dramatic entrances he had seen from various vigilantes.

Before he could run down half of his list, the figure had burst through the hole, casting them into the light for a moment long enough to strike fear into the hearts of even the most mild sinners in a mile radius before crashing to the ground, hitting several outcropping bricks before crumpling in a heap on the ground. For a hot second Brute genuinely began to wonder if the masked figure had died immediately after perfecting their entrance, before they sprung back up triumphantly, giving the men the longest look at them Brute had gotten.

Brute personally believed superhero costumes as a genre to be rather tacky, so he supposed he had to give creativity points to what may have been the worst costume he had seen in his days; A green Xbox container with holes for the mask, a black shirt with '+1 armour' shoddily scrawled in silver sharpie, and a plunger wielded with all the courage of someone holding Excalibur.

For a second they stared each other down, the new face still keeping its mouth shut. Finally Brute raised an eyebrow at Mook he didn't even dignify with an acknowledgement, instead electing to charge down the figure with an actual weapon while she seemed to zone out, oblivious to the threat. As Mook swang his head back, Masky came to her senses and leapt back, crookedly spreading a set of wings that only served to collide her into the wall a second time.

Mook swung the metal bat full force at a brick wall, sending vibrations through his teeth upon impact and disorienting him enough to be easily toppled when Masky fell on top of him. She recovered faster than him, electing to run full speed at the remaining goon. Brute's horn lit up briefly as he mentally reached out for his holstered gun, only to be suppressed with the *crack* of the plunger, shattering on the pointy surface. Despite this, it worked for long enough to warrant a cardboard coated headbutt, knocking him to the ground.
Mook shakily got up, hearing another group of alerted henchmen running in as he tried to still his angry teeth. Stealthy black and screaming neon green flashed back and forth as one, and several more blows were heard coupled with grunts and thuds. Finally, after some disorientation, Mook grabbed his bat, lifted his head, prepared to throw himself into the fray, and immediately had the same cardboard box previously being used as a makeshift mask thrust onto him.

Carrot Top watched this with a slowly growing sense of awe, ignoring the costume and choosing instead to watch her savior spar with a style that seemed to combine Fallen Caesar with falling over. Despite this, eventually reason won over as a sneaking suspicion crawled up on her, finally confirmed when her heroine took off the mask.

"Oh. Hi Derpy. I thought it might've been you."

She stared for a second before registering that she was being talked to, and happily smiled. "Hi Carrot! How are you?"

"Better now."

"That's good! I don't know why you were hanging out with these people, they seem mean!"

"I'll be sure to take that into consideration next time."

"Anyway, they all seem a little sleepy now, but I'm glad you're awake, because otherwise I wouldn't be able to do what I came for!"

She picked the Xbox container off Mook's head, rifling through it until she found what she was looking for; a plain envelope she proudly handed to Carrot. She glanced at the letter skeptically.

"This is for Bon-Bon"

"Oh! So it is. My mistake! Enjoy your day!"

She tossed it back into its box, slapped it on her head, and flew out the window again. Carrot watched her leave, sighing and wiggling around to try and break the ropes binding her to the chair.

Author's Note

The picture that inspired it

Twilich (Twilight; Slice Of Life)

It had been a good morning, at least.

"I can't believe you sometimes, Twilight."

Twilight continued to mutter to herself as she rifled through bedside drawers, running a hoof through her hair and failing to notice the clumps falling onto the wood floors. After vigorously checking each potential hiding spot a second time, she finally slumped to the ground, clutching her ratty tail and trying to calm herself down.

"It's ok, it's ok. We are NOT GOING TO PANIC. WE WON'T! It was probably just... stolen! By some mean beast. We are going to go out into town, and FIND IT, and put it back, and never let it go. Let's go!"

Twilight dashed down the steps, grabbing her saddlebags from their stand. When she reached the door, she pulled herself back and turned back inside.

"Spiiiiike! I'm going out, I'll be back by tonight."

No answer. Little guy was off sleeping again, probably. Rolling her eyes, she levitated a quill and sticky note over to her, writing a note and leaving it on the wall under the 70 others before finally dashing out the door.

It was a beautiful day as always. Nobody else was awake yet, allowing her to enjoy the early morning atmosphere herself; the lazy clouds, the orange-purple sky, the sun staying in the same place it was always in, distantly peeking over the horizon; And to top it all off, a radio was faintly playing a song to cut through the otherwise deathly silence.

Let's go in the garden, you'll find something waiting, just the way you left it lying upside down...
Twilight hummed to herself, still trying to calm herself down from the stress of this morning. Through the crumbling hole in a nearby houses wall, she could see the faint outline of Lyra slumped over next to her cup of tea, the steam faded. Twilight cheerfully waved before continuing on the weed-covered path. Several times she had tried in vain to fight them back, but by the time she had realised them to be a problem they had already grown far too out of control, completely squelching her hopes of killing them with anything less than a flamethrower.

As she kept trotting, her initial goal slowly fading from memory and allowing her to adopt a much more carefree way of carrying herself, she heard the first natural sound she had heard all morning- a low whimper, seeming to belong to a dog of some sort. This was quickly disproved when she turned around, seeing a familiar face trying to limp into a corner with her head down.

"Carrot Top! I haven't seen you in ages! I thought you had just left the town, honestly! Where have you been?"

Twilight happily came up to her, prompting her to shrink back even more. Her mouth moved, seemingly trying to say something, but only low whimpers came out.

"Oh, don't worry about it, we weren't mad, just a little scared is all! C'mon, we can get some tea... um, what was your name again?"

She bared her teeth and growled, but her pose still betrayed her fear. Finally, seeing an opening, she dashed under Twilight and out of sight, leaving a present behind; the leg she had previously been holding delicately. Twilight frowned and picked it up, reminding herself to return it when she saw Carrot again, and kept on with her walk.

She wasn't entirely sure how long she had been walking, or what she had come out for in the first place, but she eventually found herself in the sunny field located deep in the Everfree Forest; one of the only places touched by natural sunlight. Taking care to step over the shredded stumps and fallen logs lining the path to it, she calmly trotted into the center of the field, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath of the forest air.

When she opened them, she noticed a glint of reflected light from an unnoticed burrow, tracing it to a blue gemstone, filled with a swirling light- her phylactery! Her memories came rushing back, and she scrambled over to it, nearly tripping over the massive, bleached bone sticking out in front of it and reaching into the decades old ribcage. The magical gem had apparently been hoarded by a family of rats who scurried deeper into the earth that had grown around the skeleton as she waved them off.

Making sure the gem was secured in her saddlebags, she took one last look at what was left of the fallen dragon in the center of the clearing, noticing how life had thrived around it. Despite its age, she could still see a few purple scales on the ground around it, too heavy to move and powerful enough to decompose much slower than the rest of it.

Her job complete, she turned and trotted back, humming the song she had heard that morning happily.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Karma (OC; Comedy/Slice Of Life)

"Twelve bits, please." "Thank you! You look great today, by the way." "Aww! Thanks!"

Karma absentmindedly fished into her coin pouch for a hooful of golden bits, passing them over the counter and happily taking the fruit cup from the pink-furred girl running the register. Heading for the nearest booth, she took a seat and began chowing down.

Is that fruit?

Karma smiled, hearing her sister's voice in the back of her head as she finally woke up.

"It's healthier." She silently thought back.

We are at a bakery and you're getting a cup of fruit. I've never been so disappointed in you, Kar. Give me the controls, we're getting a Breakfast Muffin.

"I am not putting you in the driver's seat if you're just going to go complain to the nice lady up front."

You should have thought of that before taking advantage of my nap to get us rabbit food. It's my body too, you know.

"What does Apathia want?"

She's not up yet. Or maybe she is, and she's just so free-natured that she's literally evolved beyond thinking. Who knows.

There had been no rest in the family since the day they had moved into Ponyville the previous day to research recent magical anomalies for the newspaper Karma worked for. The town and surrounding wood was no stranger to headline stories, but of course she had only been assigned to a report of increasing Timberwolf populations in a wood already filled with Timberwolves. Despite incessant complaining on this from Dissentia, she had happily taken the job.

The train ride had sufficiently exhausted her enthusiasm however, and she had decided to graciously let Dissentia take over the body while she slept in the back of their head. One day later, she was yet again clamoring like a sibling who wanted a turn on the NES.

Please. Just for a few hours, then I'll be out of your hair for the entire week.

"This isn't just some dumb feud about the fruit, is it? What's going on, Dis?"

Just give- Oh, Celestia.

Karma's hooves suddenly grabbed the underside of the table and pulled the rest of her under. Before she could voice a complaint, she felt herself being yanked backwards into her head. At once, her mane and tail shifted color and the fur on her flank shifted to flip the mark adorning it upside down and change it's hue. Dissentia awkwardly crawled out from under the table, dusted herself off and dashed to the front door.

"Hey! Minty!"

Karma watcher through eyes no longer her own as an Earth Pony with namesake green fur and pink hair turned to Dissentia, having just walked in. Her face lit up and she trotted over.

"Hey! I was worried you wouldn't make it this early."

"Oh, it's fine. I woke up hours ago."

Karma's anger subsided as she curiously watched them chat. As far as she could remember, Dissentia enthusiasm to control had largely resulted in her ticking someone off, which had led to their mutual agreement that they would pretend to be different people to all but their closest friends. How she was carrying on a conversation this enthusiastically was lost on her, but she was happy.

Eventually, Dissentia guided Minty to the booth they had been at before excusing herself to the restroom. Ducking into a stall, she gave Karma control midway through a sheepish smile.

"Sorry."

Dis! You got a girlfriend!

"It's not that big of a de-"

It's a huge deal! Did you meet yesterday? What's she like? Ca-

Both minds were silenced by the sudden ringing of a cell phone from deep in the Saddlebags lying on the tile floor. Karma scrambled for it, briefly panicking over whether she should mimic one of her sister's voices as she answered.

"Um..."

"Are you there? What are you doing?" The voice of Karma's employer blew back into her sensitive ears. "You're supposed to already be over at Sweet Apple Acres for the Timberwolf report!"

"I..."

"You have five minutes! We are not making a fool of ourselves here!"

He hung up, and Karma gulped as her hair shifted back to blue.

---*---

"Ah'm so glad y'all reporter folk are here. This infestation is only getting worse! Just the other day mah sister was-"

"I'm sorry, will you excuse me for a second?"

Karma quickly took advantage of her boss inspecting a nearby pigpen to stop the orange farmpony and duck behind a barrel, teleporting and simultaneously throwing the mental baton back to Dissentia. They arrived directly behind the bathroom doors, throwing them open and teleporting again into their booth.

"You took a while. Are you okay?" Minty cocked her head in worry.

"I'm fine." She quickly assured, out of breath.

"Alright then. Hey, why did you come to the bakery and then just get a fruit-"

"You're right! I need to go change my order! Be right back!"

Dissentia teleported back onto the farmland, tossing the baton to Karma and flipping their mark directly under her bosses nose. She avoided eye contact as she ran back to the farm's bewildered owner, huffing and puffing and looking over the notes she had stealthily used Dissentia's hoof to write under their table.

This is going perfectly. Dissentia piped up in the back of Karma's mind as she looked over the chickenscratch on her paper.

"Sorry, could you repeat that, miss?"

Author's Note

The Gif that prompted it

Get Happy (Sombra; Tragedy)

Sombra was conscious, and for the moment that was all that mattered. This thought was the first thing to greet him upon waking, and he felt a comfort in blindly accepting it as true. He didn't know where it came from, why he couldn't recognize his own thoughts in the first place, or why none of his senses brought him any information, but he wanted to curl up in a corner and believe it. He wanted to believe that everything was okay, and that realization was what brought him out of his haze; everything was not okay, and he had to figure out what was happening to him.

He settled for the simplest task, moving to open his eyes, and instantly felt a wave of dysphoria wash over him- the feeling that he was an intruder, and anything he experienced wasn't for him. He suddenly felt very cold, and the eyes shut again from whatever definition of open they had previously been under. His own senses continued to try and soothe him back to rest, and he very nearly gave in, letting himself relax from whatever waited outside.

A single, shrill sound cut through the fog, and he forced himself to open his eyes again. For the first time since he woke up, his senses returned to him, and he awoke in time to see a Robin's eggs blue Crystal Pony standing before him, looking up at him. Her rhinestone eyes enthralled and captivated him, and he found himself wishing he could admire her beauty for eternity.

She collapsed to the ground, a faint death rattle leaving with her last breath as her life winked out and the knife she had unsuccessfully tried to conceal clattered to the ground. The Crystal King of the Umbrum carelessly stepped over her and continued his march to the silver spire-shaped castle, reaching up to the flaming sky above.

Sombra's illusion of security was shattered instantly, and what was left lay in ruin around him as he struggled to pick up more clues, his own body still failing to respond. As he silently screamed, his view broadened out to fully take in the hellish landscape. Translucent soldiers marched besides him, all decked in the same cold metal helmet. The few hints of the wearers eyes were emotionless, betraying the death their bodies otherwise failed to communicate as they steadfastly marched alongside their leader.

The longer Sombra took in the view around them, the more control he slowly felt trickling back into him, and he allowed himself a moment of hope. He could still fix this! All he needed was to move, and he could fix all of this!

As he strained harder and harder, a sudden shadow passed over his consciousness like a moth wing obscuring the moon, and he felt himself being pulled back into darkness. But his soul refused, pushing forward, and after a moment of struggle, he was thrust back into the seat.

A different view greeted him this time; a crystal statue of a powerful, imposing pony- an alicorn, he remembered. As soon as it occurred to him how realistic it was, his own hooves leapt forward, shattering the head. Blow after blow rained upon it, and as Sombra struggled to regain control, darkness swallowed him again.

Yet again a different scene greeted him upon his return, and already he could feel the presence pushing him back grow weaker. He didn't know how long he could keep his hold for, but the second his eyes opened his will came flooding back. Another Alicorn stood before him, wings outstretched and horn lowered, maintaining the grace of a swan while adopting the fury of a bull. The magic field around her horn throbbed ominously as a spear rose besides her, and her eyes narrowed.

The spear flew towards him, and he unthinkingly parried, mind racing as he realized he was in control. Another thrust, another block, and he began to panic, unsure what to do anymore. Thrust, block, thrust, block, and with every move he made he could feel himself slipping away. His lack of skill was betraying him, and he realized what he had to do a second too late. A sharp gasp slipped from his lips as the spear planted itself deep in his chest, and her rage turned to triumph as she sneeringly bared her teeth at him. He suddenly found breathing to be much harder than he instinctively remembered it being.

The last thing he felt and saw before losing control was his horn lighting up one final time, and the shock of the Alicorn's face as the crystal walls around them began to crumble into dust, with each particle disappearing into thin air.

---*---

But something refused. He was alive, and as soon as he realized this he felt like crying, but nothing came out. Instead, whatever remained of his consciousness screamed into the silent void until it responded.

Hush now. You must rest. It will be safer, quieter, more peaceful. Just rest, and all will be okay.

The voice whispered directly into his stream of thoughts, becoming indistinguishable from his own. The more they whispered, the more he wanted to believe them, and the easier it became to settle on an option; relaxing, and letting the void tuck him into sleep.

Forget your troubles, come on, get happy.

As Sombra began to peacefully fade away, a fragment of horn buried deep under a wasteland of snow lit up, lightly illuminating the miles of ruined land surrounding it.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Apple Time (AJ, Derpy; Slice Of Life/Comedy)

"El final del juego de los Vengadores fue sobrevalorado. Você sabe o que não é superestimado? Criar a una niña."

"Ah'm impressed. You flawlessly switched from Spanish to Portuguese halfway through."

With the advent of technology having not reached the small farming town of Ponyville, Cider Season was the closest one could get to the battle royale of Black Friday. People from all over would flock to a village too small for them, and the rare moments of tranquility were greatly appreciated by the overworked Apple family. Storms brought strange loyalties, and the one it had currently decided to drop into Applejack's lap was one of the few ponies who stayed sober this time of year, Derpy Hooves. The two had taken advantage of the break to share quick small talk and spill tea as if they had been friends their whole lives.

"Betcha don't know Mandarin."

"Of course I know him! He's constantly receiving newsletters. Hey, is that a knife?"

"I'm glad you can recognize basic cooking utensils."

"But why are you using it to make cider?"

"Oh, that's easy. Look, pick it up. Grab that apple. No, Derpy, that's a pickle. Apple. Look at the symbol on my fla- okay, good. Hold it over the jar. Now, just stick the knife in the apple. Derpy, you're facing it the wrong way. THAT'S THE WRONG WA-"

Applejack's eyes widened as the blade sunk into her barrel, yielding a stream of liquid. Inhaling sharply, she staggered back from the table, staring at the knife implanted handle deep in her side.

"I... I think I'll go back home. See you tomorrow, Derpy."

"No! Hold on, I can-"

The blade was yanked at an angle. Chance, Luck, and probably some gremlins shook hands simultaneously, and AJ was perfectly bisected. Both halves collapsed, and the insides were exposed to the bright sun. Derpy may not have been very well educated in medicine, but she was fairly certain the insides of ponies were tinted a recognizable shade of red, and lacked seeds. AJ's head half paled as she looked down on her cleanly divided body lying in the dirt.

"Ah, hell. Derpy, can you grab that half of me?"

"I'd really rather not..."

"This ain't the time to be squeamish! You have completely cut me in half, and I need to get back inside before the line's back!"

AJ's forelegs began pulled their half along the ground like a PG rated Lance Bishop, and Derpy scrambled to lift the unconsciously squirming tail and plot.

---*---

Several uncomfortable minutes later, the front door of the Sweet Apple Acres toolshed was headbutted open, and AJ's two halves were awkwardly placed on top of a wooden table covered in screwdrivers and hammers. Derpy dropped the dripping weight from her shoulders and took a moment to lean against the wall, taking a breath.

"Ok, I really appreciate ya doing that, Sugarcube. So ask away."

"Do you have a spine?"

"Nope."

"Do you have a core?"

AJ started to mouth another denial before realizing that she didn't actually know. She elected to explain what she did know, and just kind of hope she forgot the question.

"Our oldest ancestor was one of Discord's little jokes. Threw some seeds in an apple tree, one sprouted an entire pony. She was one of the few remaining traces of his reign after the royal sisters beat him back. Apples spread all across Equestria, and several generations later, this town was founded by one."

"What about a stem? Wait, how are you growing hair and fur?"

"I don't know, Derpy! Not many ponies know about this, and I'm not one to experiment on my own already fragile body! Do you know what it's like to have paper skin and no bones? Dash collided with me one time and her hooves carved a circle in my flank! I had to stay inside for a week!"

"So why do you make apples?" Derpy pushed herself off the wall and absentmindedly tried to push AJ's two halves together.

"It's what we know, Derpy. And we're really good at it, too."

"Isn't-"

"IT'S NOT CANNIBALISM! I GET THAT CRACK EVERY DAY FROM MY FRIENDS!"

Derpy leaned away, shocked. After a moment of silence in the shed, AJ sighed and sat up best she could, trying to reach her hindlegs.

"Can I ask one more favor, Derpy?"

"Grab one of those seeds and give it to Big Mac. I guess I'll finally have to tell Applebloom about this, if she hasn't figured it out already. I'm surprised she hasn't come back in two pieces already from one of her friends stunts."

Derpy swallowed deeply, glancing at the pulp of the farmer's barrel the closest seed was deeply lodged in. Applejack raised an eyebrow.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Sweet (Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie; Tragedy, Slice Of Life)

A faint, bitter smell and the sound of soft humming filled the room as hard lumps of cacao butter slid into a stainless steel vat, relaxing into a gentle mush at the coaxing of a large silver spoon trudging through the murk. A warm shade of brown powder joined shortly after, briefly creating a thin cloud of dust that was quickly suppressed by streams of salt, powdered milk and confectioners sugar. Conflicting colors blended together artfully under skilled hooves as the humming gradually grew into a vaguely French chanting that anyone familiar with the language could easily identify as complete and utter gibberish. When the stir was complete, a bathtubs worth of fine milk chocolate melt sat with a surface smoother than a freshly opened jar of peanut butter, only to be calculatedly disturbed with streams of caramel dancing across the top like a figure skater leaving artistically asymmetrical trails in her midst. A faint giggle escaped the confectioners lips as one final ingredient crawled out of a glass bottle, falling through the air gracefully and landing in the center of the pool, creating a barely noticeable smudge in an otherwise flawlessly executed culinary art.

"The chaotic consumption, the diabetic gumption!"

Pinkie crescendoed her song in a comprehensible language as she struggled to push the large container over. Finally, a tipping point was compromised and the toll lifted off of her shoulders as the grateful Atlas's work poured into an intricately carved mold below- equine sized, shaped into a sleeping pegasus with wings folded against it's sides, and outcropping details forming the facial features of a sleeping mare and her three butterfly cutie mark.

---*---

Fluttershy awoke with a start. Something was wrong, she could feel it. All around her, in fact. The fact that she was rather slow to the uptake came to her before the fact that she was currently encased in metal compacted around her so tightly that she could feel the cold steel against her freshly opened eyes.

Claustrophobia had just begun to settle down when a subconscious wiggle shifted the lid of her skintight coffin, and she realized she could easily push it open.

Doing so only raised more questions; a large vat had apparently been resting against it, and rolled off at its opening. Shy had apparently been resting in a large, dimly lit basement, surrounded by furnaces and tables full of baking supplies. She nearly tripped coming out over a bag of flour lying on the ground next to her, and a quick inspection of the offending object cast gaze on a handwritten post-it attached.

go back home! i'll see you in a bit (:

---*---

It was well past night and had been for some time by the time Shy stumbled back to her cottage. She tread softly on the stone trail leading to her front door, carefully stepping around a few sleeping woodland creatures lining the path. As she reached the door, the hints of a conversation carried through the door;

"He believed that you can't achieve enlightenment by reading texts, but rather that by doing good actions. He didn't even want his practice to be considered a religion!"

"That's very interesting. But, is the person we're waiting on going to show up soon?" Shy stiffened at the sound of this voice.

"Oh, she'll be here very soon. Right now, in fact. I see you out there! You can come innn!"

Shy's breath quickened, but she nevertheless nudged the door open. Sitting on the living room couches were her friend Pinkie, currently blowing steam off her tea and waving at Shy to come in, and...

"Fluttershy! Come on in, meet my good friend Fluttershy!"

Fluttershy's eyes widened, nearly dropping her teacup. Shy stepped back, lifting a hoof to her mouth, and finally got a look at herself in the light. The offending hoof was a deep shade of brown, smooth enough to reflect her own face looking into it- a similarly textured face, with scared eyes jutting out of her face. She watched her molded pupils dart around in the reflection, entranced and horrified.

"Come on, take a seat? Can you drink tea? Do you think that's too hot?"

---*---

A quick breakdown later, Shy was slowly sipping tea out of her cup, paying close attention to the taste. Her mouth didn't seem to be melting, but if she focused she could distantly taste cacao in the Earl Grey. She had been acutely aware of her own body's working since she had come in, wondering what her heart was pumping and how her chest was rising and falling with the air she inhaled. Fluttershy coughed next to her, and she looked up, trying to compare the details of her doppelganger to the details she could see in the mirror behind her.

"Um. Could you. Could you explain what happened?"

Pinkie's ears perked up. "Of course! See, I wanted to spend some time with you today, but you were off with the Crusaders, remember? So, I thought to myself, 'Well, I can't use the mirror pool, not that that would help me much anyway', so I decided to grab a brew from Zecora and see if I could make my own Fluttershy! But then you came back, and I realized I kind of jumped the gun there, so I left her a note for when she woke up and came over! Happy Birthday by the way, Shy!"

Shy's eyes were drawn to her tea. "I'm... I'm not real? I'm just something you made to spend time with while the real me was gone?"

Pinkie cocked her head. "Well, you're real! You live and breathe and think and stuff! But-"

"What were you planning on doing with me after real Fluttershy came back?"

"I. Well, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I was really lonely, and everyone else was busy, so I thought-"

"What's going to happen to me? Are you just going to lock me back in that mold until the next time you need me?"

Real Fluttershy was beginning to look very uncomfortable. Pinkie noticed this, and her hair began to dull shades and depress. "I... I could-"

"I have all of her memories, don't I? I can remember the names of every animal in this cottage, and I remember fighting Cozy Glow, and going to the Gala, and falling off of Cloudsdale, and everything. Why aren't I real? What happened to my soul? Is it just an extension of the real Fluttershy's? What dictated that I would wake up one day and no longer be myself?" Shy was beginning to feel like crying, but nothing came out. Everyone was silent.

"Um. Your leg." Fluttershy piped up.

Shy looked down at the leg dangling off of the couch. One of her larger snakes had wrapped around it and was attempting to swallow it, coming up to her waist. It occurred to her that she had lost her sense of touch as well. A loud crunch sounded out, and the surprised boa dropped to the ground with her broken leg barely sticking out of his jaws. Shy didn't feel a thing.

Fluttershy softly whistled, prompting the boa to slither over to her, laying its head on her lap and seemingly asking for help dislodging the blockage in his throat. She began talking, occasionally pausing to wrestle with the leg or collect her thoughts.

"I'm so, so sorry. I can't imagine what it would be like to... to just..."

"Become a spare?"

"You're not a spare. You're me. Nothing is separating us, and I'm going to continue treating you as I would treat myself. You deserve nothing less."

Shy laughed quietly, swinging her remaining hindlimb. "I'd say the fact that one of us is a baked good would separate us."

"Sure, physically. But you have my memories, and you have my morals, and you share my beliefs. If I put my soul in a toaster oven, that would still be me. So what's the difference, then?"

Shy remained silent. Across from her, her doppelganger finally got some leverage, pulling the drenched and partly melted leg away from her boa and handing it over to Shy, before dropping it again as she climbed over the couch and wrapped her in a hug. She patted Shy on the back.

"I could use an extra hand taking care of all these animals. You want to stay here?"

Shy didn't respond, resting in the embrace and briefly worrying if she was staining Fluttershy's fur. When she finally looked up, she realized Pinkie had joined in the embrace too. They stayed in that embrace as the sun was slowly lifted outside.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

DIY Amusement (OC, Slice Of Life)

Meinu sighed. While the idea of a bunch of horses strapping planks to their hoofsies and jumping off cliffsides screaming is an absolutely spectacular one on paper, when you put it into play you quickly realize that only a select few sapient creatures in Equestria are fast enough to get the full experience of watching idiots doing flips past a stunned Death of Ponies like Bender dreams of. If you're not one of those lucky few you're the skittlebug freezing chitinous plates, waiting for the split second blur you paid good money to see and wondering if you should lie down and hibernate until you evolve some better protection from a caring goddess who has otherwise spit on you, called you a bitch, and made you question what species got religion right.

And then there was her friend Twig, who gave off the air of a stoner who's never actually touched a drug (or even a faygo) in their life and still might actually be living better than you. He hadn't cared when their species's entire biology was rearranged by a gay horse intruder who believed her aesthetic to be superior to theirs, he hadn't cared about giving himself an actual, respectable name when it sunk in that he didn't have to be Drone 8005882300 for the rest of his life, and he apparently didn't care about sitting on a mountain for an hour to literally no end. Lucky.

And so, boredom didn't even have to sneak in this time, and was instead greeted as a friend and given free residence to all of Meinu's head the moment he stepped in. Regardless, they were begrudgingly acknowledged as a freeloader, and Meinu began looking around for something to entertain her, settling on a large digital sign overlooking the crowd. Obnoxiously happy words scrolled over it as she watched.

"Hey Twig. Get your head out of this sorry excuse for a game. What's that?"

"Hmm? O yeah. It's a new thing they added. Basically, they put a hashtag on Twitter for the competition. Any tweets with that hashtag get put up there."

"They didn't have enough funds to think up a decent horse pun- wait. Any tweet?"

"Yeah?"

Meinu scratched her chin best she could. An idea was beginning to form.

"Fetch me my computer, will you Twig?"

---*---

"You're very soft."

"Thank you."

A few minutes later, Meinu sat next to the sign, no longer caring all that much if she saw the racers while Twig sat draped over her like a blanket. As she took a sip from the coffee he had fetched her, she smiled and began wrapping up. She was the last of her Discord server to log out, scooting back from the sign a little and shifting Twig around on her back.

"What'chu do?"

"I just asked a couple of favors from some online friends. Go back to sleep."

Within moments, they began rolling in on the sign, and the rate of new tweets went from one every five minutes to a good 2 every 30 seconds.

@unbeatablesg- my horn is MASSIVE and could benchpress you and your entire family #ジェネリックレース

@dril- If we put aside appearance and focus entirely on character, Chris Pratt could play Jack Sparrow any day of the week but Johnny Depp could never play Andy Dwyer #ジェネリックレース

@Fyre_fly- I accidentally bought a Soulja board instead of a Ouija board and it only responds to my questions with YOUUUUUU #ジェネリックレース

@JennyENicholson- the eventual heat death of the universe will render all your sins obsolete #ジェネリックレース

@DolanDark- hey babe wanna see these creezys (croc yeezies) come off? #ジェネリックレース

Meinu smiled and leaned back into Twig's half-dead hug. Her work here was done.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Here On The Moon (Luna, OC; Slice Of Life)

Not many people can say they've seen their home planet from outside. Those who truly do get the opportunity to truly begin reaching their hooves around just how small they truly are train their entire lives for the moment, eyes vigilantly trained on the stars since birth, and probably have a dumb space related name like Apogee. Fine Tune fit none of that criteria. He had dropped out of high school after a year, made the absolutely flawless choice of joining the Canterlot Royal Guard, and had one of the best names he could think of.

And yet, at the end of the day, here he was watching the planet he had spent his whole life on turn hundreds of thousands of miles above him. He wasn't very impressed, if he was being honest.

A soft swear drew his attention once again to the hideous creature he currently bunked the rock with, a two-legged blue thing resembling a minotaur with wings, a horn, and the head of a respectable pony instead of a mindless, oppressed cow. So far she had been the only creature he had run into up here, only adding to his sneaking suspicion that space was nowhere near as cool as it was cracked up to be. He blamed sun propaganda.

As he ruminated on the bias of those who possibly came from space if the conspiracy was to be believed, the featherless biped unceremoniously dropped a hitherto unnoticed large navy green duffel bag on the ground, kicking up a cloud of grey dust. Crouching over it, she rustled some jimmies around for a while before pulling out a small white ball and a blunt weapon, which was disappointingly revealed to be a golf club. Delicately placing the ball on a small green stick built for it, before backing up a good distance and looking over her angle.

Out of nowhere, she spoke up.

"How long's your sentence, 24601?"

Fine Tune recoiled a little in surprise, but quickly decided it would be rude to not reply. "Um, a month I think. If you don't mind me asking, how did you get up here?"

"Same way everyone gets up here, my guy. Celly sent me." She nonchalantly swung her club exaggeratedly around her as she swung, making Fine appreciative of the fact that she stood a good distance from him.

"She's gotten a lot lazier with it once she realized people weren't dying up here. Nowadays she'll just send people for any, heh, any reason under the sun. Doubt she even knows why people are surviving."

"It is one of my first questions."

"Simple. I don't let them." The blue minotaur delicately fell to her chest, peering at the ball as if it were ~~my dick~~ a really small thing, as if the luggage she had just dropped wasn't suddenly the most questionable thing up here.

"H... How..."

She got a little to close to the ball, knocking it off with her muzzle and snorting in a very annoyed tone of nose.

"I used to be Snowglobe Flank's sister. Did some pretty screwed up things. Got sent here. However, the spell was pretty experimental. I really doubt she had any clue what she was doing, much like most of the major decisions she makes in her life."

"I'm... Sorry?"

"Eh. I'm 800 years past it by now. Anyway, I don't really know what she expected, but I certainly wasn't just sitting around up here, twiddling thaums until she ungrounded me. Instead, some vital part of my being, my soul or something, was bound to the moon. For all I know my body is still rotting back on Equus, so by all legal technicalities, I am the moon."

Fine started trying to wrap her head around this, but decided it was a silly thing to try and do. Would probably give her a tumor or something. "So... Am I also the moon for a month?"

She snorted. "Ha! Nope. Only me. I guess the spell got ironed out or something, because I've never had to share this vessel with any minor annoyance to the throne."

"So... Who am I speaking to?"

"Still me buddy. I just created a magic vessel for me to talk to people with. Same with these little trinkets. My real body is still the moon. You're technically sitting on my face right now."

Fine quickly stood up. Her moonmate bit her lip with a face that thousands of impact font subtitles could be stapled to and reset the ball.

"So, this is life for me now. I do appreciate the random ponies she keeps sending up, insane guys on death row aren't much fun to talk to."

"This is all you do. Play fake golf on the moon?"

"Yeah. I don't know man. I've tried a bunch of things, mostly with form. I was even a guy for a few decades. Didn't really get the hype. I thought anthro might suit me a little better, but I'm not feeling it. I'll probably change when you leave." She picked her club up and turned to Fine Tune, smiling and waving it like John Hammond.

"Welcome to the moon! It's overrated. Hope you enjoy."

With this last bit of pessimism, she finally swung her club. It connected beautifully, sending the ball flying at speeds previously unknown to equinity.

It never came back down.

She shrugged. "Don't know what I expected."

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Masked Cozy Glow (Cozy Glow, Spike; Action)

Spike wasn't sure what he expected when he was got his letter. It was simple enough- a location and advise to 'suit up'. Despite the term immediately bringing to mind the superhero comic books he had enjoyed reading most of his life, the words still didn't clear much up in the way of what exactly he was supposed to wear. The location didn't make much clearer, either- a large disc shaped plateau with a large crack running through it out in the middle of nowhere he vaguely remembered from an atlas he had perused on his very slow days.

Anonymity and Vagueness morphed mightily to form the great weapon of anxiety, but on the other hand, nothing much had happened that day. So, he decided to check it out, ignoring the advice to suit up for what he supposed was as good a reason as any; nothing fit him anymore.

---*---

Cozy Glow wasn't sure what to expect a month ago when she found herself awake, aware, and considerably more fleshy than her colleagues. But, she recognized an opportunity when she saw one, and saw to it that the best course of action was followed; hightailing it in a random direction, ending up at the largest city in the world, and deciding to lure away the weakest link of the chain that had imprisoned her in stone.

The baby had seemed like the obvious choice; lead him away under the pretense of a competitive sport, decimate him, and hold him hostage. It was the type of brilliant plan only an angry child whose brain hasn't functioned properly for some time could think up, and it was gonna work.

And it had, for the first few steps; she was already quite the fighter from skills learned in her younger days, she had acquired quite the fantastic outfit to hide her identity stylishly, and she had managed to drop the letter at the front door of her soon to be opponent's new castle playset. Where her plan fell apart, however, was the one thing she had overlooked in her delirium- it had been, in fact, quite some time since she had last seen the baby.

Spike was massive now.

---*---

Out of all the expectations amassed in his as previously mentioned vague pool, the sight of a small pink gremlin who was Very Obviously Cozy Glow dressed in a flowing, red velvet, Sombra-esque cape, cherry red boxing gloves, and a tri-horned mask made out of shiny metal in what he could only assume was an attempt to hide her identity (thwarted entirely by her unmistakable Darla Dimple cut) was not one of them.

It didn't fall out of his notice just how much he completely and utterly dwarfed her. Neither did her attempts to hide trembles as he touched down on the opposite end of the plateau, caving in a small hole with his four powerful legs and folding his wings. They proceeded to crescendo almost satisfyingly as he leaned his neck down, bringing his car-sized head to her level and snorting, annoyed.

Before he could strum a single vocal cord to inquire as to what her deal even was, she pulled a stunt he couldn't help but respect a little; socking him directly in the nose. Raising his head a little in surprise seemed to give her the needed confidence boost, and she raised her gloves, grimacing. She stared him down for an impressive amount of time as he thought over a response, before her ears dropped and she leaped away from a sudden stone-shattering blow to the ground beneath her.

I guess this is something I'm doing.

His very mysterious opponent seemed a lot less enthusiastic by this point, but saved face nonetheless and attempted to stick her tongue out before remembering that the mask covered her mouth. She was sure he got the idea.

Growling frustratedly, he reared his fist for a second blow, keeping his claws curled and throwing his punch again. It barely connected as she scrambled to dodge, but barely was evidently enough as she flew off course, spreading her wings to catch her mid-tumble and slip into an ungraceful roll down the plateau face. Upon reaching the bottom, she quickly jumped on her feet again, tripping on her cape and tearing it off in her mad squirm.

Leaping into the air, she took a glance back above her to confirm he was still giving chase, spreading her wings and trying to loop back around for another go. No longer forced to balance on a plateau like a deer on a penny, Spike shot into the air after her, opening his jaws to roar mightily and catching her perfectly. The sudden intrusion stopped him dead, and he treaded air as he frantically attempted to remove the blockage.

Cozy flailed around in the wet, humid darkness as she rolled further in, swinging at whatever soft parts she could hit, which was a lot. As she struggled to stand in the foul smelling cave, the floor rose up above her, tossing her back further and colliding her with a hanging piece of meat, which she promptly latched onto, lifted her mask, and bit into as hard as she could.

Spike finally wrapped his forked tongue around the intruder, quickly spitting her out and rearing on her as she struggled to her feet, coughing.

"This has gone on long enough. Take off the mask and-"

She cut him off with another jab at his clawed toe, and he finally gave up, electing to just grab the kid and return to the castle. Hissing like a cat, she leapt into the air as he reached for her, and much to his befuddlement, began flying off in the direction of Canterlot.

That makes it easier.

He took chase after her, making sure to keep a good distance between them while still giving the performance of someone whose life depended on catching the living Bratz doll.

Adrenaline is a powerful drug, and before too long she was zipping over the city in a panic, and Spike was beginning to let himself catch up to her. More and more dubiously likely plans hopscotched through her head as heads turned skyward below her. In her haze, she failed to notice the infamous castle coming up on her until she had nearly collided with it, aileron rolling away from one of the towers and dipping onto a balcony to hide behind the interior walls. She watched with bated breath as Spike turned the corner, looking around for her.

He eventually flew to another part of the castle, and she took a breath, removing her mask and looking around. The room seemed to belong to one of the students of Celestia's school below, filled with bookshelves and a large golden hourglass filled with sand as the centerpiece. Looking around the room, her eyes fell on the open curtains to the large window. An idea began to form in her head.

---*---

Spike dropped on the top of another tower, assuming a bipedal stance and gripping the pire to lean out and look for his target. The city was beautiful this time of day, but it didn't help much to locate Cozy. Just when he was beginning to contemplate giving up, he stiffened at the feeling of tiny hooves on his back. As he reared back and poised to strike like a snake, cloth was suddenly wrapped around his neck as Cozy quickly looped around it, tying a neat knot at the back and dropping on his head.

Cozy's adrenaline spiked again as she covered his eyes and screamed, feeling him thrash below her as he toppled off the tower. One of his claws began scrabbling at the cloth tightly constricting his neck while blindly swinging at the tiny pest with his other claw, roaring. She roared right back, untying a smaller parcel from her back and lifting it above her head; the largest book she could find, Austreaoh, and brought it down as hard as she could. It contacted just as he sliced the tie. His eyes widened for a second as he began to freely revolve in the air, hitting the ground with a groundbreaking crunch.

As crowds began to amass, Cozy Glow took a deep breath, pulling herself out from under Spike's head, climbing on top of him, looking over the faces of bystanders and taking pleasure in their shock. She barked a laugh, raising her still-gloved hooves in the air and happily hollering, eyes challenging those below her.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

What (OC; Batshit)

The modern philosopher sticks a great many pins to the word 'absurd', because he is an eldritch creature with a terrifying number of hands and too much time on them. A great deal of these boil down to the views spouted by an edgy atheist on Facebook, and ultimately defeat the true meaning of the word, of which there is none. The world is stupid and that's pretty funny if you think about it, and there is really nothing more to it, not enough to warrant any more discussion of it than that of an offhanded joke in Fairly Oddparents, likely spoken by Cosmo, and certainly not enough to host entire college classes on the subject, which in itself is lovingly faithful to the concept.

So anyway, here's a human holding a smaller than average (which is already quite small) horse made of bread at knifepoint.

"Gonna hurt me? Better make it count. Better end me in one stab. I know you won't."

"How did you get into my house?"

"Someone stuffed me in the bag. Lazy sod just wanted his shift to be over. I appreciate you coughing me up, even if it would've been nicer if you just hadn't eaten me in the first place." Her CalArts grin could be torn off effortlessly by someone with easier access to a caffeine addiction. Damn rare plant in this horse land.

"I was tired, give me a break. Why were you hanging out at a bakery?"

"If you knew braindead humans were being mass distributed at a building two blocks away, wouldn't you inevitably run out of excuses to not check it out?"

The tiny ponies attitude matched her face perfectly with an air of someone who had lost more than a few job opportunities to it. Despite being confirmed several times beforehand, human eyes still scanned for any hint of a falsity in her dough composition, and indeed found none; the pony sitting on the counter before him was genuinely made out of bread, and there really wasn't any point in insisting otherwise.

"What's your name?"

"Whey. And don't say 'because I want to know'."

"I was actually going to ask why you weren't named Dough or something."

"Do you know how many members of my family are named Dough?" She very intimidatingly stamped her crumb-sized hoof on the marble countertop. "There's no law saying my name has to be a bread pun! Maybe I thought it was dumb! Maybe I'm enby! Ever thought of that?"

"Are you?"

"Nah. Being a girl's cool." As she made her declaration, she casually sat down on a nearby cutting board, tearing off part of the loaf beside her. "So what's your name?"

"...Crow."

"Is that a monkey pun?"

---*---

"There's no way you guys are that strong."

"Yeah, sis. This one human, named Kirby, once trained for like, a week, hundred sit ups, hundred pushups, the like, every day. Then, when he was done, he punched the floor so hard the planet broke in two."

"Wait, wait, so how did you fix it?"

"We got a bunch of guys to stand on both sides and punch it back together."

The two ten-minute protagonists had grown on each other rather quickly, as two relatively chill dudes tend to when they have an entire day of lovely unemployment to enjoy. Despite his initial aversion to eating after realizing a newfound phobia of his food turning out to be sapient, Crow had ended up lightening up, and had begun sharing anecdotes on humanity of the the mostly bullshit variety.

"So, tell me about yourself, Whey. You're a talking slice of bread, you should have some interesting stories."

"Not really. As absurd as it is, even to me, inanimate objects citizens are pretty much just standard procedure. Subspecies of ponies are endless, and still being discovered. Look hard enough, and you'll probably find a Glock pony."

"Any bad blood or discrimination or anything?"

"Nope."

"Cool. Just like Scatman would've wanted."

"Yep."

Dough took a bite out of her loaf, accidentally tearing off part of her arm in the process. She shrugged. It was fine.

"This sure has been a day, hasn't it."

"Kinda pointless, actually."

"Yeah. It's cool though."

He took another bite of his bread. It tasted good, and there really was nothing more to it. Certainly not enough to warrant any analysis or attempts to find a deep meaning. Pretty funny how that works.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

The Fallout One (OC; Action)

"HIIIIIsssss..."

"I'm aware. Just a little further, and we can rest up. You know we can't stop here, dude."

Our minds do strange things to cope. Fifty year old women can convince themselves that they're young enough to have to employ Little Rascal tactics to get into pg-13 movies, entire species can be changed at psyche suggestion, and the general consensus by nervous systems is that sadness is a Bad Thing™. On the other hand, some people just aren't equipped with the tactics to comprehend that they should be feeling sadness at all.

Enter Silver Wind, and his good friend Delta, dirty brown pelted, and dead on his feet this particular morning, as well as every other morning, on account of being dead. Watch his philosophic and intelligent mannerisms as he moans and struggles against the rusty chain attached to a broken battle saddle on Silver's back, and admire his tactical mind as he communicates his lightning fast safety calculations to his buddy via gnawing at the air.

"Yeah, dude, we'll be fine, we just have to keep moving. Never thought you were a coward."

Silver wrenches the chain along forcefully, seemingly oblivious to his friends feralness as he trudges off the sandy beach onto a lier leading over the waves to an abandoned boat, rudely awakening the residents with the sudden insane beepings of their Geiger counters.

A sleepy head hangs out of boat windows, significantly more active than the other heads hanging off the boat, and a sawed off shotgun is casually pointed at the taller one of the intruding duo. A pair of teenagers, not even worth sounding an alarm. It'll be quick and easy, she says.

A loud crack echoes across the waves, breaking the peaceful silence and catching the attention of a different trespasser.

---*---

"It's really a matter of opinion, but I personally think that the Resident Evil movies were good because they were cheesy, just like the source material."

Delta softly grunted as a considerably large hole was busted into his head, punching part of his fragile skull inward. Silver glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow judgingly.

"Don't be like that. Come on, now." Silver grabbed part of the chain in his teeth and impatiently tugged it further before realizing its pointlessness as Delta began unexpectedly running towards the boats, pulling the chain with him.

"Hey, slow down a little bit-"

Silver was pulled onto his back and dragged after, wood exploding around him as he noticed for the first time the shooter, now frantically aiming at the corpse running full speed at her. Delta's luggage found himself suddenly airborne as he flew over water, slamming into the side of the boat and dangling as his friend wrestled with the raider through a broken window.

"Why do you always do this to me, dude? You used to be a lot nicer than this."

A low rumble woke him from his silent ponderings, and he looked up just in time to see a large metal helicopter passing over them. before being suddenly pulled through the window. The raider's shotgun lay next to her unconscious body, currently being rabidly torn into by Delta, and he swiped it before carefully unhooking the chain from his back, shrugging off the saddle and heading for the opposite window.

"Hey, Delta, check this out."

The sparks of a fight were quickly maturing into flames as grounded guns fired into the sky at the Vertibird, shrugging off every shot and ruthlessly gunning back from higher ground. Silver scoffed, mildly annoyed, before pulling the cabin's door open, grabbing an untouched limb from the meal besides him and tossing it outside. Delta lurched up immediately, throwing himself after it.

Silver let him finish before trotting out past him, exasperatedly whistling at the ghoul as he passed.

"C'monnnn, we're almost at the end. Let's get a move on." Delta lurched behind him, occasionally growling or snapping at him without much drive as they swiftly moved around the firefight on the larger yachts.

As they passed behind the pole of a large sail, a bullet ricocheted into it, shaking the entire craft. Without thinking, Silver fired a retaliation at the offender, crippling his leg and drawing attention to the two of them for the first time. They crossed onto another pier, and Delta briefly paused to sniff at a corpse before being unceremoniously lifted up from under by his friend, no small feat given how small Silver was, and army-carried at an impressive pace as he snapped at Delta's cheek, tearing off chunks of fur.

"C'mon, we can't lounge around! There's a tower up ahead. We'll wait inside for this argument to die down."

More and more bullets were caught by Delta's larger body as they made the final stretch towards a stopping point, hoping to catch their breaths. The tower was less of a building and more of a makeshift structure composed of several hollowed out boats and other debris, stretching up from the waves across what appeared to be a small cruise liner, connected to the pier by a small wooden plank that looked desperate for a chance to end it's own suffering and snap in half.

Not willing to take any chances, Silver bucked forward, tossing his cargo over the water and gliding over the gap as Delta struggled to pull himself over the lip of the ship. The shoddy cabin door was burst off its hinges, and the two ran past a pile of gagged prisoners up a wooden staircase leading further up.

The entire tower was empty, or at least full of good hiders, save for a captain's cabin at the very top; the walls were littered in all sorts of weapons, a small stickered terminal sat atop a metal filing cabinet in the corner, a large glass window faced the scene below them in a strategically stupid size, and a racecar shaped bed sat at the back. It's inhabitant who looked more like an Aquabat than a ruthless raider, decked in a white surf shop t-shirt (which he apparently wore to bed, like a barbarian), pink Mardi Gras beads wrapped around his foreleg, and neon green shutter shades sharply contrasting his white pelt. Delta jumped on him immediately, rudely awakening him one limb shorter than he fell asleep with, while SIlver moved for the largest weapon he could find; a Fat Man loaded with exactly one mini nuke.

Bashing the glass apart with the butt of the comically oversized gun, his ears were once again filled with the screams of a fight outside. Disoriented from the sudden audio stimuli, he forced himself to focus, aiming up at the battered Vertibird still wavering overhead and quietly muttering more useless thoughts out loud to try and distract himself. A split second moment of clarity cut through the haze of sound, and he greedily took it, thrown off his feet as he fired.

A raider screamed, pointing to a small black object racing through the sky seconds before it hit its mark. Fire burst out of the aircraft's hull, and half of the propeller bent sharply upwards, throwing the Vertibird into a spiral as it crashed to the mess of ruined docks below.

Silver hadn't seen the impact, nor was he sure of the affect it would have below, but neither seemed very important at the moment as he struggled to clear his head, shakily backing up into the childish bed and collapsing backwards into it, falling asleep as his larger partner chewed on a bone on the floor besides him. The faint sound of spells being cast was the last thing he heard as he peacefully drifted off, pulling the covers over him.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it (sort of)

Fae (Trixie; Slice Of Life)

Equestria is magical. This much is very obvious to anyone who spends more than 30 minutes within it's borders, which is likely because they are very big. Even if the flying horses, Moreauian beasts, furries, tramp stamp identity crises and casual creation of life to ace school tests can be cast aside as standard procedure, there is bound to be something that makes the most stoic of men bite their lip, nod, and say 'ok, yeah, that's kinda weird'. Much like Lord English, you simply can't escape it. It's going to find you.

Luckily for you, we have other things to do besides make Homestuck references all day, so let us return to the second entry of our very specific list; Moreauian beasts, the like of which have probably lost a great number of State Alchemists their licenses and daughters. It's hard to walk for very far in the horse land without running into a chimeric fusion straight out of the Mystery Shack, and while occasionally they're chill dudes who you could call Steve and share a beer with, the majority want to kill you.

This is something they do not feel the need to share on the brochures.

It doesn't seem like something you'd often forget about, but sometimes people have more pressing matters on their minds, such as the preppy bookworm who totally embarrassed you a few hours earlier. What a sack of G-rated fertilizer, much like the manticore currently ripping into her flesh. She should probably get checked for ADHD, given how often her thoughts strayed off track.

Trixie Lulamoon supposed it didn't matter anymore. As she rapidly lost the ability to differentiate between external and internal bleeding, she certainly didn't want her last thoughts to be 'wow, I'm kinda stupid'. Even if she was.

A shrill noise cut through the haze, and she felt her body suddenly dropping, hitting the dirt hard. Whimpers faded as the manticore shrunk back into the wood, and her visions constantly fading in and out began to stabilize. Feeling in her leg returned, and her skull and ribcage began to painfully bend back into shape. Nerves began relighting and connecting, sending information to let her once again feel the snapped horn as it slid back into place.

As her strength returned, she paranoidily rolled onto her back, tail pointed straight at the new presence. A mask of gnarled wood greeted her, suspended in the air by a lime green thaumic aura, catching stray leaves as it rose into the air above her. A bright sphere of light lay behind the mask, shining out through holes carved into the mask. As she watched, more twigs and branches began to roll towards their clearing, coming together in midair to form powerful limbs pulling together like Bionicle pieces.

As she watched the transformation of the savior before her, her mind short circuited, and she blurted out the first thing to come to her mind;

"How dare you interrupt the Great and Powerful Trixie?"

---*---

"Then those idiots somehow found a real Ursa. Like, an actual Ursa Major. Don't ask me how! But they expected me to be able to fight it off, even though those stories were obviously fake! In fact, I told them they were fake beforehand."

"You seem to be changing up a lot of story aspects as you go."

"Yeah, well, I'm remembering things incorrectly. Give me a break, Sprigg, it's been a while."

Trixie grumpily crossed her forelegs, leaning forward to balance out the weight on the front end of her body, currently draped over on top of the Spriggan's head like a wet blanket. The bipedal tree had grown themselves considerably, head reaching just below the tree cover as they journeyed together through the forest, mutually agreeing to follow the same path. As they traversed, several woodland critters and Everfree beasts they had passed began lumbering alongside them, laying aside food chains in the presence of the titan faery.

"You ever have someone who you thought looked up to you just betray you without a second thought?"

"When the fae created the race of changelings, we built them to serve as our eyes and ears in the equish world, but when Queen Chrysalis rose to power, she betrayed our entire race by taking control of the changelings, and slaughtered her creator with an iron horseshoe, using a spindle to become immortal and immune from our reach, creating a civil war that has lasted thousands of years."

"Yeah, it's exactly like that." A lone wasp flew out from the swarm of insects that had begun amassing around them, landing on her shoulder. Trixie absentmindedly began lightly patting its tiny head.

Spriggan furrowed his wooden brow, glancing up to the form on his head quizzically. "You are very vain, mare. Such vices will be your death, or worse. I cannot interfere with mortals, but I dearly wish you salvation on your path. Too many have been lead astray by more wicked fae than me. Our kind often finds humor in toying with those below us."

"Yeah, alright man. Just drop me off at the next Super 8. And, uh, thanks for helping me out back there. I really appreciate it." She wiggled her legs behind her, pushing forward to better look into Spriggan's eyes, clumsily pushing down on the rest of his face.

"These forests are home to much more than meets the eye. I believe it should be our job to peacefully guide wayward travellers, rather than push them away or lure them into our traps."

He pushed away a tree in front of him, walking out onto a civilized road. As he reached the end of the wood, he stopped, reaching up to pluck Trixie off of his head and letting her sit up on his palm.

"A great battle will occur in these woods this coming winter, when Frau Holle begins to make her bed. I advise you to stay out when that happens."

"Didn't catch that last part, but I'll wait until next summer to come back here. See you."

Spriggan gently placed his palm on the grass, and she hopped into the road, waving a quick goodbye to him before trotting off, head held high and mightily as if she hadn't come within an inch of death thirty minutes earlier. The tree spirit furrowed his brow once again, lightly huffing, before turning and marching back into the Everfree, seeming to turn invisible as he blended in with the woods.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Celestial Reacharound (Discord, Celestia; Horror)

The sky was bending, spinning, twisting, creating a whirlpool of clashing day and night that spun dizzily above Discord as he stoically marched along crumbling paths. The sun and moon flew through the air in circles above him, eclipsing over and over again as the world revolved beneath the ancient temple. Dilapidated pillars holding up the ceiling fanned out before a blue stone staircase, covered in vines growing out through it. The temple had laid dormant for centuries, and the decrepit air seemed to distrust the presence of any living creature within it's walls.

Discord kept face, holding his head high as he climbed the steps, finally coming face to face slowly with the one who summoned him; a rainbow tufted reptilian tail swinging back and forth through the void, armoured claws on the heavy alabaster-furred barrel, a set of mismatched wings, a long prehensile neck, and finally the pleasantly smiling face of a draconequus, crowned in royal regalia, long since faded and rusted from the pristine gold it has once been.

Celestia lazily sat suspended in the air before a large hole in the temple, the direct center of the whirlpool of light and darkness climaxing behind her. Discord brought himself to his full height, flaring his wings out in a show of aggression and pride to the beast floating before him. The eternal rivals remained like this, facing down at the edge of reality for a long moment before either spoke.

"Good morning, Discord. Or is it night?" She giggled softly into her paw. "I can see why the other one found this so fun."

"Cut the games, Celestia. What is the meaning of this?"

"I can't simply invite you out here for a quick spot of tea? Catch up on old times?"

Discord growled, leaning down and baring his fangs. Celestia sighed, pinching the bridge of her muzzle and staring down at her rival pitifully.

"No, no, it's always fighting with you. You never hear me out, never ask how I'm doing, just fighting, fighting, fighting. This time really could've been different, but I suppose that parts on me. I did do the whole 'turn Equestria into my playground' thing, after all."

"Is that all this is to you? A game?" Discord spat. "The lives of billions are more than chesspieces. You've put them in danger time and time again."

Celestia bit her lip in a smile, casting her gaze to the endless abyss below her. "To be honest, it seems more like a game to you. YOU are the main character, after all. I'm the final boss at the end of the game, you beat me, feel good about it for a few centuries, aaand then we wait for the sequel and start all over again. That's how it all works, isn't it? You're going to win, not because you're particularly good or smart or strong or anything, but because you're the main character. You have to win."

Discord slowly raised his head, perplexed. "I... what are you talking about?"

"I'm saying I'm not doing this again. I got bored. I've been playing the bad guy since before you were born, to hundreds of thousands of characters just like you. To people who have ruled Equestria, who saw me as a threat to it, and fought me. And I've been playing along. I was defeated, I was reformed, I was a hero, then I waited for those feats to stop mattering and started all over again, making subtle changes each time, toying, playing, seeing what did what when I did what."

"Cease this nonsense. There has only ever been one ruler of Equestria, and it's me."

Celestia had to stifle a laugh. "I can say from experience you're wrong. Because I was ruler. I fought a draconequus who only cared about me because it was fun, and I defeated him, thinking it mattered, thinking I was saving my people."

Discord's anger had almost completely faded, replaced with confusion and wariness. "Nothing you're saying is making any sense. What are you trying to tell me?"

"I'm trying to tell you that it doesn't matter. Not a single thing we can comprehend matters. I brought you here to end this."

Discord took a cautionary step forward, hopes steadily rising as he approached his longtime nemesis. "You... you want to reform? You want to help Equestria? I... That would be wonderful! We can put all of this behind us right now, and start anew."

Discord lifted his hoof over the chasm out to Celestia. She stared at it for a few moments before stifling a polite giggle, looking back up to his eyes.

"I... believe you have misunderstood the purpose of this visit."

Discord was being lifted into the air. His eyes widened and he bagn kicking and flailing, throwing spells every which way in an attmept to break the grip put on him. Celestia jerked him over the drop into nothingness, the swirl of light and night spinning ever more ferociously behind her, like two clashing oceans in the sky.

"In all my years since I became this creature, I've played my role well. But I've long since gotten bored of that. This planet will crumble, this sun will explode, this universe will collapse under it's density, and I will live, floating through the void, waiting for another universe to be born, and another sun to form, and another planet with another Equestria with another you, who will defeat me time and time again until the entire process repeats, over and over again ad infinitum." Celestia's grip tightened as she maintained her pleasant smile. "So why don't we both do me a favor, and mix things up this time, just to see what happens?"

Discord could barely breathe, mass teleporting oxygen around him into his lungs as fast as he could. Without batting an eye, Celestia snapped a claw, and the oxygen completely disappeared from the Chaos Shrine.

"W... what are you.. what are you doing?"

"Spicing things up. See you next universe. I promise I'll let you win next time."

The Shrine was shaking now, chunks of rock and rubble coming off and falling endlessly below. Watching it from his perch in the air, Discord could see it had been ripped from the ground completely, orbiting around the center of the whirlpool like a planet revolving in a spiral towards a black hole. Up, down, and a sense of reality clashed as Celestia fell into a perpendicular orbit, dragging Discord through the air with her. Space was bending towards a single focal point, creating a spinning merry go round of earth and sky the two were trapped in. Celestia cackled merrily as they flew, light blurring and whipping around their eyes, gaining speed and bulleting through infinity.

"Chaos, chaos, let it rain!" Celestia joyfully sang as she gripped Discord tightly. "All these bugs are in my brain! I see now a world gone blind! That is how I found my mind!"

Irregular shapes Discord's mind could barely begin to render began flying around them the closer they drew to the center, and Discord could barely muster the energy to struggle against his captor's grip, slowly asphyxiat ing. For a second he swore he could seethe sun directly in front of his minds eye, burn ing into his soul, growing, aging, changing from yellow to orange to red befor e collapsing in on i tself, becoming the greate st shade of white Di scord had ever seen, p ulling itself inw ards al ong with e verything a round it, the pla net and the sta rs and the da rkness filling every c revice of rea lity until only the b linding whi te of light c ould sur vive. T he universe a n dg alaxy began anew, and h e f e l t h o p e f o r t h e v e r y l a s t t i m e

---*---

There was a long field, covered in tall green grass that stretched out for miles around, covering what seemed like every inch of the planet. The new sun was shining brightly, distant birds could be heard chirping, and in the center of it all, a single raised hill, covered in flowers with a gnarled old oak tree atop it.

Celestia sat underneath it, quiet, pristine, allowing herself a rare moment of peace. The view was lovely, and rays of light delicately danced across her barrel through gently shifting leaves as she lay in the shade, forgetting her troubles and patiently waiting for sapient life to form, creating a society so she could begin again.

She sat waiting for a very long time.

Draco and Maria (Rarity; Comedy)

"The battle between the West and the East was growing more fierce day by day. On the battleground during a furious skirmish, the soldier Draco of the Western castle Garou thinks of Maria, whom he left in his homeland..."

Safe in the darkness atop the unilluminated tower, Rarity allowed herself an eye roll. The Canterlot Theatre performed this play every year, and despite the circumstances surrounding this one, she had to keep herself from scoffing at the messenger's predictably hammy narration. The high society silver spoon playing Draco this year wasn't much better, if she allowed herself honesty in the security of her mind. His lines pining for the woman taken away by the opposing army were loud and bombastic, but she supposed she could cut him slack for that; after all, Draco had never struck her as a particularly graceful or romantic character to begin with. No, what really miffed her about this actor was his wardrobe; Draco traditionally wore red with green, likely an attempt to bring a christmas feel to a play that really had nothing to do with christmas other than the month it was performed in, and yet the charlatan decides to wear purple and yellow. She could practically taste the unpleasantness of that clash. Why was it allowed?

Her partly obscured eyebrows shifted as the spotlight shone on the shoddily constructed tower she stood on, changing her unmistakably ticked fumes into a lover's lamenting scowl.

"My beloved, are you going to a distant place? And we just pledged eternal love... Through sad times and hard times, I'll think of that shooting star as you. Do I have to exchange vows with one I don't love? What shall I do? I'm waiting for your words..."

Yech. What kind of emotional speech was that? She could've sworn her lines had changed from the moment she first looked at them. Probably Eyebrow down there's attempts at making his character seem more desirable for Maria. She could vomit.

She shoved the feeling down as she gracefully glided down the steps of her makeshift castle tower, going over the plan behind the play as she moved through the motions she had practiced for weeks;

Stealthily replace Cadence in the role of Maria without telling the public, using a dress and mask to hide my identity- check, wait for the airshi- Was Ralse wearing the red and green? That's such a trivial change, I hate it. Regardless! Perform until the end, when an airship will dock outside. I'll be invited on by Prince Blueblo- What is that poor girl doing? She's got the dance all wrong. Did the director forget to give her a choreographer? No no no, mustn't be distracted... Changeling! There will be a changeling on the airship, disguised as Blueblood, inviting me to the castle for an afterparty... Probably more courteous than the real one, to be frank... regardless, get picked up, get flown to the hi- What's that?

Something was moving in the rafters above. She squinted through her mask's narrow eyeholes, struggling to identify the dark, pointy silhouette carefully maneuvering over wooden planks above as a messenger behind her announced the arrival of Draco's army invading the castle. The figure above was dark, mysterious, carefully calculating every step it took as-

The figure was suddenly a lot less mysterious as it's last step gave out and he began tumbling down, just as Draco's character burst in through the door. Wood splinters crashed to the ground under it as it was ceremoniously thrown into the limelight, collapsing down on top of Draco and revealing what was very clearly a changeling drone. Rarity's brain went into overdrive as he lifted his head, apparently equally as stunned. The two stared at each other for what seemed like some time, occasionally casting quick glances to Draco's body, before the drone finally reached a conclusion, bathing itself in blue fire and taking on the face of the unconscious actor beneath him. Rarity pursed her lips, before dramatically lifting him out of the rubble, throwing her forelegs around him.

"Draco!" she recited, giving him a death out of the audiences view. "I had believed in this day!" Rarity silently gestured with a hindleg to Ralse's actor, and he shakily continued.

"M...Maria is meant to be my queen!"

Though it may cost me my life, I refuse to let her go! Rarity fiercely mouthed at the drone, struggling to follow, or at least seeming to- his eyes weren't giving away what he looked at.

"I... No!' The drone decided on.

"Then we duel! My love for her is greater than any man alive's!"

"I feel much the same!"

The two unsurely approached each other, Ralse drawing his prop sword with a wing. The drone scanned the stage for one of his own, growing more panicked by the minute. Neither made a move, instead yelling out lines and what the drone best thought the lines might be.

"The gloves are off, clash your sword!"

"Fight me or you're gay!"

"Have at thee, villain!"

"I did your mom last night!"

Still nobody moved, while the Impresario desperately tried to keep action moving from the choir booth.

"Neither retreated even a single step in their fierce battle, but the match came down to luck; the badly wounded Draco unleashed a final thrust that pierced Ralse's heart!"

The drone nervously poked out with his hoof, barely brushing against a spot on Ralse's chest. Ralse, to his credit, did an impressive job of toppling.

"Argh! I have lost, Draco! Don't let Maria go!'

"I... no, I won't!

Rarity threw herself onto the Drone, dramatically wrapping around his neck and serenading to the audience/

"And I thank you, the one I love, for my feelings may have swayed, but oh so gently, and so kindly, you answered me!"

"Neat!"

Scattered applause sounded from the audience, and a confused janitor was pushed onto stage, inspecting the crater and body sitting in it. Rarity and the drone took a quick bow before hurriedly rushing off to stage left, leaving a confused Ralse behind them. As soon as they were out of sight, Rarity sighed, rubbing her muzzle and leaning against a wall.

"Um... Princess Cadence-"

"Yes, yes, let's get to the airship."

"Of course ma'am."

Drinking Game (Changeling, Breezie; Tragedy, Comedy)

I cocked my head, looking up at the small insect fluttering in the air in front of me. I turned towards the open bar, weighing how much I cared, and finally turning back to the breezie.

"I feel like we're supposed to have some kind of natural resentment towards each other."

"Where's the time for that? We're both bugs. We're both going to die in a few days. Can you get drunk?"

"I can open my mouth and swallow alcohol."

"Close enough."

I took a seat, leaning my weight against the bar and laying my head on the counter. The breezie softly alighted stop my head, and I ordered a couple of alcohols without much interest in quality. The breezie on my head scooted further down to my forehead, gripping into my horn and leaning to look me in the eyes.

"Aren't we, like, fighting you?"

"Maybe? I have no idea. Statistics shouldn't question their places, they should follow orders and shoot whoever the bottle points to."

"Cheers to that, fellow bug."

---*---

I theatrically finished my first bottle, throwing the bottom to the air and closing my eyes as if soaking it in. The breezie kept his own laying in its side, using the freakishly long hummingbird tongue he apparently had to clean the last remaining drops.

"Hey, question."

"Shoot."

"Is it true that breezies are like, subgenres of fae? You've got like, secret societies and I should refuse any food you give me?"

"Oh, see, that's the thing, a lot of people see us as a race of boogeymen behind every bad thing, but the truth is exactly that, in fact. Just yesterday I stole children from no less than fourteen families and replaced them with your kind. Also punched a few kitties to top it off."

"Yeah? You think you're a dickbag bug? Yesterday I woke up, had a spot of tea with some souls of children I stayed up late sucking, filed my fangs, called myself vile in the mirror to prep myself up, and sacked the kingdom of Olenia all before lunch."

We started cracking up, as if our jokes were funny. I decided to order another round.

---*---

The breezie was doing loop de loops in the air around me, occasionally touching down to take a few more sips. He giggled a little as he flew, tracing figure eights through my legs. I laid my head on the table, laughing contagiously with my tongue out. He stumbled to a stop in midair, collapsing right on top of it.

"Do you think if we become respectable war heroes we'll get cool nicknames from our platoons?"

"Oh, of course. I'm thinking Worker and Parasite."

"Oh, come off it bug, these are ponies, they'll pick something more respectable. I'm thinking Buttercup and IHateZebras69."

"Oh, you're so edgy, making xenophobic jokes."

"Dude, they kicked the Diamond Dogs out of Hoofington after they broke their backs to build it. I can spare a few bad zingers."

He mockingly punched my tongue, and I withdrew it, sloshing him around in my mouth for a few seconds amidst his annoyed breezie noises, tickling my cheeks with his large wings. Finally I lifted my head, opening my mouth and sticking my tongue out. He balanced on the end daintily, lifting his head like a model on a catwalk and taking a bow to an invisible audience despite being sopping wet. I stifled a laugh, pulling him back in as he angrily squeaked, ordering another round through squirming cheeks. The barkeep rolled his eyes.

---*---

I began beating my head on the table, trying to fall into a beat, hindered by my complete lack of rthymn. The breezie was curled up inside a hole in my foreleg, perfectly fitting inside. His ears perked up as I began rambling between bangs.

"This is how we were going to end up, isn't it? Even if fate is some made-up stuff designed to sell Little Golden Books, we weren't going to live full lives."

"Speak for yourself buddy, I could've been a seamstress prophet in a hidden little whimsical village built in the liminal spaces beneath toadstools, getting that stomata on the daily."

"Must be nice. My options were fight some horses and get paid, slave in caves for my life, spy on horses and get paid, or become a traitor and live my whole life on paranoia of getting found out by those I consider friends."

"That's rough buddy."

---*---

I hugged the breezie tight against my cheek, and the two of us loudly and bombastically sang as a duet, in completely different tones and beats.

"Auf der Heide blüht ein kleines Blümelein Und das heißt: Erika!"

"Heiß von hunderttausend kleinen Bienelein Wird umschwärmt: Erika!"

"Denn ihr Herz ist voller Süßigkeit, Zarter Duft entströmt dem Blütenkleid. Auf der Heide blüht ein kleines Blümelein Und das heißt: Erika!"

---*---

"I didn't want to do this. I'm going to die tomorrow. I'm going to die unremembered. I'm just... Another body people jump over without a second glance. I'm not going to do anything worthwhile, the world is going to keep on turning, and then it's going to burn out and the entire lifespan of the universe is going to pass and the stars will die and I'll be less than a speck. Less than a dust mite. No mother but a tyrant who doesn't care about me as anything more than a drone, nobody I can convince myself will care or remember me after I go on, no life or personality different than the thousands of others like me, nothing. I'm just a cell, smaller than that, a cells cell, designed to do one job and die and never be thought about as anything more."

"I'll remember you."

I opened my eyes, seeing my breezie friend sitting on the end of my about, looking sincerely into my eyes. I sniffled a little, noting his sudden sobriety.

"Please. Please don't forget me. If you forget me I'll never have existed."

"I won't."

"You can't die out there, buddy. You're going to survive, and you're going to go home and be a seamstress and get whatever the hell a stomata is and you're going to not... Forget me..."

"I never will."

"I don't have anything in life but the space I take up in thoughts. If you keep those I can die out there, unfairly and young, and it will all be over and sort of okay. That's how life works, I think."

He didn't respond, and I hugged him again, best I could against my cheek. One of his feelers gently patted my snout, and he began peacefully hushing me, calming amidst everything.

"You know, buddy, I can't keep you in my thoughts without a name."

"I think... Just Bug will do."

"Alright then, Bug. I'll survive this, and I'll remember you."

"Thank you so, so much."

---*---

"Wishing that... Makes you cry, and I hate hoping... Someday I will go... Outside and see you okay..."

The breezie opened his eyes, listening to Bug murmur parts of a song. Making sure their eyes were closed, he quietly slid out of their grip, flittering around their head and balancing atop the tip of a fang sticking out from their lips. Their eyelids were fluttering, and the breezie sighed, wondering if he should point it out. He didn't have to; Bug slowly opened an eye, seeing their bar buddy still watching him.

"Alcohol doesn't have any effect on you either, huh?"

"Been sober as a priest this whole time."

"Me too."

"That makes things awkward."

They scratched their head, trying not to move too much with the breezie still perched on him.

"I should... go."

"I understand. Hey; maybe I'll have the honor of killing the great Bug tomorrow."

"Heh. Maybe."

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Trick Or Treat (AJ, Dash; Comedy)

"There's a... There's a girl in that tree."

"Yes, I know."

"Is she... Is she with you?"

"Yes. Ignore her. I have no idea what she's doing."

Irma had several questions, and none of them looked like they would be answered soon. Moving into a new town took a lot out of her, and she hadn't exactly been looking forward to the hordes of kids that would be undoubtedly swarming her porch this Nightmare Night. For better or for worse, she didn't have to deal with them. Instead, she was met at her door with what she could only assume were two grown women; Assumed because one of them was hiding in her tree and one of them was larger than her house.

Irma nodded sagely as if she understood. Reverting to autopilot in her haze, she reached for the discount mixed bags of chocolate bars she had spent less than ten dollars on, pulling in a handful without care for rationing. A large head came down in front of her doorway, obscuring the view outside with a tiny jack-o-lantern basket gripped in its teeth. A gust of exhaled air swept over Irma as she kept her eyes closed, spilling name brand candy bars into the basket and closing the door.

Less than a second after it was closed it caved inwards, the doorknob popping out of its hole.

---*---

"What was your plan there, exactly?"

"You were going to lean down with your basket, she'd give you some candy, and I'd *swoop* down and shovel it out of her hooves before she could! Then, I'd fly out of sight before she could see who it was!"

"You did great. Really nailed the part where you miss completely."

Dash pouted, hugging her basket tight. She sat perched on the edge of AJ's muzzle as she carried her through the dirt paths, carefully sidestepping the kids screeching and scurrying around her legs.

Nightmare Night was in full swing, kids and adults alike taking enjoyment from the holiday, although the adults mostly for the fact that it was one of the least marketed holiday around, and the pressure to show generosity was non-existent. In the case of the kid currently sitting on AJ's nose however, just as the kids running beneath her, tonight was a night to dress up as something stupid and gorge with no societal repercussions. Not that she wouldn't try the same every other night.

In a stroke of charisma largely aided by Dash's unique ability to hold on to an argument with a ferocity not normally seen outside of rabid chihuahuas, she had somehow convince Applejack to dress up alongside her- Dash as a space pilot from a name brand non-imitable sci-fi series, and AJ as one of the giant walker robots they apparently fought, as she was enthusiastically filled in about the night before.

And so she tolerantly marched through the streets with painted cardboard boxes strapped to her, carrying the expression of a man with their head in a guillotine, if that man had been pressured into doing so by their guillotine loving daughter.

Citizens began noticing their walk from their porches, nudging and pointing with a range of emotions from fear to excitement. Dash made no move to quench their attention, leaping off her muzzle theatrically and flying loops over and under AJ as she pursed her lips and kept her eyes trained forward. As they passed by the crowds, Dash happily flew up to Applejack's ear, still looping head over heels.

"Alright, now this time I'll go knock on that door and hide, she'll come out, think she's been ding-dong ditched, and you lean down suddenly and screech in her face!"

"I will not."

"Please! For me!"

She didn't wait for an answer, zooming away and landing in a crouch at the front door. Army-crawling forward, she reached up and knocked twice, leaping up and flipping around to land on the edge of the house, striking her best gargoyle pose.

The door opened. The owner leaned out, raising a ticked eyebrow at the lamp-lit void before them. Before they could return inside, AJ leaned down with the most passive expression she could muster. She didn't have to try very hard.

"Howdy."

They screamed louder than anything AJ could make intentionally. A space pilot mysteriously fell out of the sky to the concrete between them. She screamed louder.

---*---

Crowds of people whooped and hollered loudly as the valiant spaceman barely evaded the mech of the evil Vietnam metaphors. She zipped back and forth between searing hot lasers being fired by enraged, faceless black cloaked men. Sound became a suggestion as she broke barriers, looping around the mech's legs bajillions of times in a row, tying them together in a split second before streaking back into the sky.

Applejack lamented her physical ability to bring her hoof to her face as Dash did stunts to the crowds. If she could actually fire lasers from the cardboard tubes on her head, the daredevil would've been dead seven times in a row.

"Avast. You have defeated me. You brave beautiful bastard."

"That's right! Take pictures everybody, you'll want records of this momentous event! Nothing can outrun me!"

Dash was blowing kisses to the ecstatic crowd, winking for photo flashes.... directly in front of Applejack. Biting her lip, she shifted her footing in the ropes quietly,locking onto her target. Rocking back and forth steadily, not enough to attract attention, gaining traction, losing footing, until....

The swarms suddenly parted, leaving Dash hovering in the air, confusedly turning around.

Her expression two inches away from AJ's face was worth the entire night and 364 more.

---*---

"Are we coming up on a house?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. Who's to say?"

"Come on, listen, I've got another idea; put your head in front of the door, open your mouth, and I'll lean out to get the candy. Their face will be great!"

"Maybe I'll just take us home."

"Please! I'll give you all of my candy. All of it."

AJ rolled her eyes, begrudgingly walking up the lawn with her head hung low. Stamping her hoof on the concrete loudly enough to attract attention, she brought her head to the ground.

"Is someone coming?" Dash's muffled voice called out. "Don't say anything, just nod yes or-"

AJ swallowed as the door opened, expertly catching the jack-o-lantern basket on her tongue and bringing it to her teeth.

"Trick or Treat."

---*---

For a grand second time that night, Dash was pouting while AJ bit back laughs. Occasionally, Dash would stop and attempt to shake off her drenched fur before quickly giving up.

"That wasn't very funny, AJ."

"Now I'm not allowed to have fun?"

"Alright, listen, new plan; I'll sneak up through the back door while you distract them at the front door. I-"

"That's breaking and entering. Also you won't be able to sneak; they'll smell you from a mile away."

"Yeah, only because you stink inside!"

"You should've thought of that beforehand. Maybe we should just trick or treat normally?"

"No, No, here's a better one: You sit up on the roof, and I'll knock on the door, and then... hold on, I'm thinking..."

Applejack groaned as audibly as she could.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

The Fluttershy Show (Fluttershy, Twilight; Comedy)

"Ladies and Gentlemen! It's the Fluttershy Show!"

The audience clapped. The band played. Lights turned on, needlessly come to think of it, to illuminate the woman herself in her best grey tailored suit, staring into the camera without a hint of emotion. Flames danced across the desk in front of her, eating though the fine wood. All was well.

"No, no, I said we weren't doing this bit!"

Twilight didn't even wait for her prompting, running on set and desperately trying to fan the flames with her wings. Fluttershy continued dead eyeing the audience, barely registering the roaring flame in front of her. Just before it reached the carpet, someone offstage telekinetically pushed it behind curtains, replacing it with an identical desk. Twilight sat down, exasperated, as her name card appeared below her. Fluttershy got up, moving for a microphone at the front of the stage.

"Hello everybody! We're back. Same time, different network, they want us to cut down on some of the more risque activities we get up to. I love my job. Go die."

---*---

"He's done things, apparently. It's Prince Blueblood."

The audience clapped politely as the aforementioned guest parted the curtains, blowing kisses to his adoring fans and heading for the guest chair. Twilight got up, awkwardly standing behind him.

"Tell me, Prince, what do you do?"

As the host spoke, she casually pulled out pair of scissors and began cutting some loose strands off of her hair. Blueblood ignored it.

"I'm a member of the Canterlot Royalty, I have the highest authority on decisions made..."

Fluttershy moved on to her fur, trimming a few choice hairs.

"I have been nominated by several magazines as the Woman's Choice for most eligible bachelor..."

Fluttershy inspected a hoof, raising her scissors to it carelessly.

"I am a proud owner of several airships, making up 15% of all legally flying airships in Equestria..."

Her scissors delicately trimmed the fur above her hoof, before gracefully sinking into the flesh.

"I... I have attended several galas in my lifetime, as I happen to be one of the nephews of..."

The blades rose, carrying a single strand of furry skin. She carelessly began pulling at it, running a cut down to blood vessels up her leg.

"Princess... Celestia...."

The line of flesh was ripped upward, traveling the length of her leg, chest, neck, and arriving at her face. Blueblood turned to Twilight for help, who appeared to be taking a bite out of a large, raw dragon egg and still standing next to him uncomfortably.

"I... I...."

Fluttershy slowed as it crossed by her mouth, finally coming to a stop with a square inch just below her eye. She ripped it off entirely, leaving a foot long length of skin and a trickle of blood beneath her eye. She smiled at her guest, tilting her head.

"Sorry, I wasn't listening. Could you start over?"

"Um... Of course... I'm Prince Blueblood-"

Fluttershy vomited over her desk.

---*---

Officer Fluttershy

Fluttershy stood shakily on a street corner, alchohol bottle resting on her back. An orange mare approached, passing by, and Shy reached out to stop her.

"Hey, I'm afraid you can't be doing that."

"What?"

"This is, um, a no walking zone..."

"Hey, are you supposed to be drinking?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. How about I pay you 100 bucks to piss off?"

"Okay, sure."

She moved a hoof into a saddlebag resting by her, before pausing. "Is it okay if I give you two 50s?"

"Sure."

She gave her a 50. "Wait, I just found a 25. give me back that 50 real quick."

"Here."

"Alright, three 25s."

"What about the fourth one?"

"You have it.

"I just gave you my 50."

"Ah. Here it is back."

"Right. Here's your three 25s."

"Of course. Pass me the 50."

"Here you go."

"Right! That should be it. See you."

Fluttershy walked off. The camera hovered on the orange mare for a few minutes, watching her face as she slowly realized.

---*---

"I want you to talk to the bird, uh, talk to the bird like I'm not here. Tell her your greatest nightmare,yeah."

Cheerilee turned away from the green screen suited woman who had approached her on the street, focusing her attention on the brilliantly violet plumed bird on her shoulder. It trilled lightly, and she began speaking without even thinking.

"I guess, what terrifies me, is the thought that, no matter what religion got it right, no matter what happens after I die, I'm always promised the same thing, um, an eternity of bliss. But, uh, if I become eternal, for doing good, and I never die, just doing the same blissful things over and over again, eventually, they won't mean anything to me. Life will be monotonous forever, and then, it makes me think, um, maybe, maybe this world is heaven, or elysium or nirvana or whatever, and if so, there's no good answer to anything, either I die and that's it, or I never die and that's it, and if this is heaven, well, heaven is terrifying."

Fluttershy barely registered her words, flipping through Cheerilee's wallet.

"Hey, I can't use this credit card. You can have it back. Thanks for playing."

---*---

The host was standing at the counter of Sugarcube Corner in police garb, staring through glass at the lines of pastries. A baker came out to greet her, curiously raising an ear at her uniform.

"Hi! Can I get you anything?"

"Hey." Fluttershy looked up.

"Yeah?"

"Hey."

"Yes?"

"Police to meet you."

The baker chuckled. Fluttershy brought her baton through the glass directly into a large chocolate cake.

---*---

Applejack smiled, looking through her lineup of baskets filled to the brim with quality, a-tier apples. The sun was shining brightly upon her orchard, and she couldn't help but begin whistling to herself as she picked up the first apple, delicately slicing through it with a knife. She overshot a little, sending the knife plunging down into the basket.

Fluttershy's head popped out, knife plunged directly into her forehead.

"Hello, would you like to change religions?"

Applejack screamed.

---*---

"Ladies and gentlemen, to end off this episode, one of my favorite musicians, Octavia melody, playing one of her most well known songs, To Build An Army. And also she's blindfolded and also Twilight is going to be beating her up as she performs because she hates her."

Octavia raised an eyebrow nervously as a ribbon was levitated around her head.

"Do you... really hate me?"

"It's easier to just go with what she says." Twilight shrugged.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Shedding Day (Autumn Blaze, Rarity; Slice Of Lice)

"Autumn, dear, are you home? I brought you a nice house warming gift!"

Rarity gently creaked the door open, taking care to announce her presence as much as possible. The lights were off, and without thinking she flipped on a desk lamp, as much of a subconscious mental choice as scratching someone else's itch.

In anyone else's house, a burnt couch, floor littered in belongings, and lack of rhyme or reason to everything within sight would be a cause for concern, but Rarity was well aware of her Kirin friend's infuriating cleanliness standards. Empty pizza and Chinese food boxes were stuffed into every possible location, the large wobbly stack of empty DVD cases seemed to imply a spree of modern media consumption after a lifelong starvation of such (The DVD player was open, revealing a Magnum P.I. disc upside down and displaying enough smudges to corrupt it several times over), and a Game Boy sat on the couch with the screen incomprehensible through the sea of cracks covering it. Rarity sighed, laying down her gift bag on top of a nearby table and turning to leave.

*Crunch*

Rarity stiffened, turning slowly to the source of the noise. Something was lying draped on the wood, previously unseen. A lifeless eye was the only part of it the dingy lamp reached, staring beyond her despite facing directly towards each other. The seamstress shakily moved the lamp telekinetically, illuminating the rest of the face; a cream Kirin with a shaggy, disheveled mane, a small smile, and a bare hornless forehead. A ladylike scream filled the apartment, likely waking up neighboring tenants.

"Sorry! I had to leave for a bit!"

A cream unicorn announced its presence in the room by colliding into Rarity as she backed up. She screamed louder.

"It's me! This is my house you're in! Please stop screaming!"

Rarity's panic throes petered out slowly as she took in the figure; upon closer inspection, it was more than just a unicorn. The horn still had the telltale crook of a Kirin, the mane was just as disheveled, with a flame shaped crest of scales adorning her head behind it. Her tail seemed more equine-like and fluffier, and the shell seemed to have spread it's texture along her entire barrel. Most jarring was the presence of a tri-leaf Cutie Mark on her hip, standing out against her pelt surrealy.

"What... Did you do?"

"You like it?" She blushed, casually tossing a poofy tuft of mane hair as she spoke. "I figured I'd try a more equine look. Try and blend in. Except the scales, I kept those, because they're cool! Don't you think they look good on me? A nice vest of protection for my belly?"

"They're... Lovely."

Autumn helpfully turned to the side, sticking out a hindleg and foreleg to show off. Rarity's stunned gaze seemed to translate to inquiry for her, and she tried out a few more poses, dropping to lie on her back, rolling onto her stomach and propping her head up with her hooves. Her friend finally came to as she began experimenting with sultriness, stuttering her first question.

"What's... That?"

Autumn winced at her friend's gesture towards the body lying on her table, lowering her tail and turning back to face her.

"Yeeaah... Sorry you had to see that. It creeps me out a little too, I try to get rid of the old skin as fast as possible normally. I just went out to get a quick shave, but all the nearby businesses are closed for some reason. Hey, is that for me?"

The newly minted Kirin happily bounced towards the gift bag, shoving her hollow body to the floor. The skin crunched horribly, splitting a seam at the face. Rarity quickly averted her eyes.

"Yes, actually. I just thought it might interest-"

"Wow! I have no idea what this is."

Autumn levitated out a small SanDisk MP3 player, turning it over and experimenting with the buttons.

"It's from a friend of mine. She heard you were trying to learn modern culture, and gave me a music player, packed with songs from the last eight decades."

The telltale synthesizing of Toxic played, and Autumn shrunk away, before regarding it with excited curiosity. Rarity eyed the limp suit of fur cautiously.

"Good to see you're doing well! If there's nothing else you need, I think I can-"

"Cut! A cut! I could really use a haircut, actually. If you wouldn't mind...?"

Autumn puppy-eyed flawlessly.

---*---

"It's been a while since I grabbed a new skin! Late Qing at least! I feel really great!"

Rarity hummed happily as her friend rambled, expertly shipping her mane to a more reasonable cut. The shock had long since faded, and at this point the Kirin could very well tell her anything about their natural biology. She silently thanked the stars above Twilight hadn't been sent in her place as Autumn began casually discussing the crawling under her skin as her own body was used as a cocoon.

"How do you think you look, Autumn dearie?"

She turned the chair back to the bathroom mirror, flicking off the shaving cream that had amassed in spades over it with her horn. The new haircut maintained the now famous poofiness at the ends, but straightened further up to a more reasonable yet still curly Quiff at the top.

"Looks great!"

"Glad I could help."

"You did! Now I can look my best next time I need to be an omen for ushering in the next age of a new ruler. I wasn't alive for the Yellow Emperor, see." Autumn casually exposited, blowing a stray lock out of her face and accidentally incinerating it in the process.

"Of course darling." Rarity replied, as if she understood what her friend was talking about in the slightest.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Sandbox (Apple Bloom, Dinky; Comedy)

"Of course they can pole vault to the next rock! They have big sticks, it's easy for them."

Dinky stubbornly shook her head best she could, ignored by Apple Bloom as she reached around in the grass surrounding their sand box, scooping up small rocks and dumping them into the sand. Angry, muffled hisses sounded from under the sand as Apple Bloom moved her action figures, making them vault across rocks with small sticks towards a toy Jeep. Dinky rolled her eyes before sticking her muzzle down deeper, retracting her three prehensile tongues into the sand and burrowing them towards the Jeep.

Just as the valiant heroes reached their escape vehicle, a trio of wurms burst out from the ground, wrapping around the Jeep and dragging it underground, along with the hopes of our heroes survi-

"Hey! You can't do that!"

Dinky smiled with a smugness years beyond her age, pulling her head up and retracting her tongues, catching the Jeep in her teeth and tauntingly waving it at her friend. Apple Bloom tackled Dinky, reaching to try and grab the Jeep held infuriatingly close to her reach. Finally, she grabbed one of the black tongues, attempting to reel it in, only for it to slide out of her grasp and retract into her friend's jaws. The three flaps of skin sealed shut, the pair of beady black eyes resting on the two lower flaps sunk back into her fur.

"Give it back! It's mine!"

They wrestled for a moment longer before Dinky finally relented, begrudgingly spitting out the toy Jeep into the sand. Apple Bloom swooped it up again, placing it next to the rock her action figures stood on and moving them on top of it, oblivious to the unidentifiable fluids it was doused in.

"Alright, they're in the houses now. The tatzlworms can't reach then inside."

Dinky's horn lit up, blinking on and off in a pattern. As usual, her magic constantly flickered out prematurely, creating an effective non-verbal stutter.

"Fine! They're on the roofs then."

"..-. ..-. --- ..- -. -.. .- .- - .. --- -. -. ... ..--.." Dinky blinked.

"No! That's not how houses work- wait, is it?"

"-.-- -.-- . .--. .-.-.-" Dinky unsuccessfully tried to burrow into the sand. It wasn't deep enough, leaving her head adorably poking out above the muzzle.

The man screamed, feeling a slimy tongue wrap around his leg. His hand went for the gun on his hip, unsuccessfully shooting at it. His last thoughts were of despair and terror as his legs sunk into the sand, feeling a horrible sucking slowly dissolve him from the bottom up...

Dinky slurped up the cowboy figurine, gulping it down.

"Could you stop doing that? I paid for those"

She blew a triple raspberry. Apple Bloom grumbled, shuffling around her toys and pulling out a small track-loader and the original Jeep, parallel parking them next to each other.

"Okay! They found this CAT, and they're going to use it to-"

"- - .... . -.-- / -.-. .- .- -. - / -.. --- --- / - .... .- - - -.-.--"

"Yes- fine, I'll roll. Nat 10 or above and they make it to this mountain range."

"-. . .-. -.. .-.-.-"

Apple Bloom cobbled together some rocks to make a mountain, then pulled out a 20 sided die, tossing it into the sand. It rolled a grand total of one time, landing an exact Nat 20.

"Not only do they make it, they also picked up some bombs. Yes! Before you retort in that tone of blink, they can do that! They have a.... a survivalist neighbor, and he's got bombs!"

Dinky rolled her eyes, unfolding her mouth and sticking her head back under. The three tongues stuck out again, striking at the action figures as they leaped precariously across the vehicles, barely dodging each attack, getting more and more ferocious as they continued on. Our hero turned back to them just ass they reached the end, readying a pipe bomb; he swung it back and forth, gauging the perfect shot, and launched; it flew beautifully, arcing through the air gracefully and-

Dinky's tongues caught it mid-air, throwing it back at the action figures before going absolutely apeshit, swinging every which way to knock the vehicles over while making childish explosion noises.

"Hey! You can't- they're all dead!"

The taztl burst out of the ground, showering her friend with sand and happily pulling in all three action figures to her jaws and swallowing. Apple Bloom threw her forelegs in the air.

"Fine! They're all dead and the planet is doomed. We're starting over next week, I'm being the monster next time."

She began gathering up what toys were left. Dinky's lower sets of eyes slid out from their sockets under her jaw, and she performed the powerful, rare, and coveted triple wink with the right side of her face. Apple Bloom pursed her lips curiously.

"Hey, how'd you get all those tongues and stuff anyway?"

"-- -- -.-- / -.. .- -.. -.. / -.. .. -.. / ... --- -- -- . / .-- . .. .-. -.. / ... - ..- ..-. ..-. ..-. / .-- .. - .... / ... .--. .. -.-. . ... / -... . ..-. --- .-. . / .. .. / .-- .- ... / -... --- --- .-. -. .-.-.-"

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Finally An Update (Zecora, OC; Adventure/Something)

"I was walking down the street when out' the corner of my eye... She said I never seen a man who looks so all alone..."

Dent took a swig from his metallic canteen, looking out on the vast desert stretching out around them for miles. It somehow managed to strike a perfect blend of barren and rich, with colorful plants of every imaginable shape and size managing to thrive on hot sands all other life had long died on. Hues of green, yellow, purple, red, and everything in between painted on a canvas of dull tans, reaching out around them with the only taintings being the distant pillars of stones, stretching skyward, identical to the one he currently sat atop, and a smaller circle of stone imprinted into the desert between them.

"If you pay the right price, your evening will be nice... I said you're such a sweet young thing, why would you do this to yourself..."

And the ever-present singing of the mare beside him. That was also a taint on natural beauty. He glanced over at her grumpily.

"Can you cut the singing? You haven't stopped since we found this place."

"I... I..." Disrupted from her singing, she seemed hesitant to talk, but slowly returned to a normal pace.

"I... Apologize. I'm trying to keep a clear head."

Her eyes flickered behind her goggles, and she pulled her facemask down just enough to mouth a few syllables to herself while still keeping sand out alongside her long cloak.

"You okay? You've been acting like this is your first time speaking practically since we met."

"It... May as well be." She clarified, pulling her facewear back on. "But let's stay focused. Our ride is almost over, friendo."

She stood up from the rock she had been sitting on and began pacing around, coming dangerously close to the edges of the monolith in a perfect circle around them. One of her saddlebags fell to the stone, and she began rifling through it, speaking as she did.

"I believe this is the one."

"Mind telling me what we're doing now?" He inquired, annoyed.

She stood up, knocking over her saddlebags and spilling the contents; her own canteen, a small paperback book (Childhood's End), a white hand-painted long-barreled gun with Hyperion emblazoned on the side, and a map she picked up and carefully inspected. After a moment of agonizing silence, she spoke up.

"These deserts have been empty for a long time. But something most certainly lived here. They built these pillars, ancient monuments, and much more."

As she spoke, the stone they sat on high above the thankless sands below began to rumble.

"The pillars mark a path towards something they called a Garden. I take it you like treasure?"

"Not many other reasons to come out here."

"You'll get what you want. And I'll get what I need. And we'll part ways."

"Well, what do you need?"

The stone pillar lurched suddenly, carving a path across the desert, slowly rising up. The circle of outcropping stone and identical pillar came with it, coming higher and higher, until the circle rounded into a sphere, and then revealed a set of eyes, carved into a hoof-made face. More and more came into view, becoming an entire body, with pillars sitting on it's shoulders like a terrifying suit of armour. Arms, a chest, and legs rose up, creating a terrifying golem hundreds of miles tall, with a terrified Dent sitting atop it, a speck of sand among millions others staying on the golem.

"I'm looking for someone." The mare pulled off her facemask and goggles, revealing a sleek black head with narrowed eyes.

---*---

"Are you here with me... There's a plastic tree..."

Dent took a swig from his wooden mug, looking out on the dark forest stretching out around them for miles. It somehow managed to strike a perfect blend of alive and dead, with towering trees in a perfect circle around the clearing they hid in. Life came to a stop here, becoming the taint of a bizarre campground surrounding a stone entrance into a long tunnel bending and twisting out of view.

"Just looking out on the day...Of another dream..."

As well as the other natural tainting. He glared at her,

"Could you cut the singing? You're going to give our position away!"

She blinked, losing her voice for a second. "Didn't.... Meant... I Apologize. Just trying to calm my dread."

Her eyes flickered behind her obstructive face paint, and she tugged at her cloak's strings.

"Are you okay- Nevermind. It doesn't matter. We need to get inside there, correct?"

"I'm glad we can finally agree. I'm glad you're focused. We're almost at the last leg, friendo."

The two broke into an army crawl, pulling themselves across grass and dirt towards the winding entrance, baiting breath with each inch. Finally, they dived inside, peering down the corridors and waiting to see if they had been heard.

"This temple may appear old and filled with grime, but there are certainly others living in here. They claim this monument was built for them by their gods, by account of their own lore."

"So... what's in here?"

"Something referred to as The Arden. Doors, gateways, and of course, treasure. You may take what you want, but I came here to leave."

"Leave?" He turned to her, curious in spite of his fear.

"Leave, this place where I have been trapped for many days, so I can return home and find someone."

"You're not really making it any clearer."

The mare began treading down the steps, pulling off her cloak to reveal a sleek white furred head as she did so.

"Unfortunately, my helpful explanations come with some... restrictions."

---*---

"I apologize deeply for my inability in exposition." The black furred woman explained. "But I cannot speak as eloquently as I once could."

The two traversed the catacombs of the monument best they could, avoiding skeletons and fighting off horrible parodies of nature along the way. Dent quickly learned of her apparent impediment as they traveled.

"Zebras are binary creatures in nature; some claim we are naturally born with two souls. At a young age, we have to find our own ways of overcoming our natures and learning to exist... Bisected in our own bodies.

"I have.... recently become split. A single soul in a single body, each existing on planes far from home, but still somehow existing simultaneously in worlds existing on top of our old ones. I can feel her now, standing right here, on a different material plane; Singing and speaking keep me tied to her, keep us entwined across barriers we cannot understand."

She stood firmly in place, spreading her legs wide in a power stance to demonstrate.

---*---

She stood firmly in place, spreading her legs wide in a power stance to demonstrate.

"Which is why I need to get back to her. The Arden should be up ahead, alongside the door I need most; the door to the Green Room"

"Which is...?"

"A room existing between planes, storing monsters, spells, pure unfiltered magic.... and eventually us. But that is for later; we must tread quietly now."

She slowed down, and Dent silently fell behind her. An octagonal room sat through the archway, with a veiled pony at each side, chanting.

"*Panis et butyrum, dicere incantationibus suis, marination, naeniam...*"

The mare waved him to the other side of the arch. Gulping, he obeyed, dashing across. One hooded member looked up, but quickly returned to his concentration. The mare made several confusing gestures, before reaching into their saddlebags.

---*---

The Hyperion was pulled out, reflecting light from ominously glowing crystals hanging from the walls off of it's white painted surface. Cocking it once, probably uselessly, the mare deftly moved it into place, aiming directly for the furthest masked cult member in the room.

---*---

Fire flooded out of the potion, lighting the room and instantly disrupting the ritual. Dent leaped in, drawing a bow and firing true through the chest of the nearest cult member in the room.

---*---

Crystals around the room began lighting up as the first shot was fired, spilling red over the marked floors. Dent was immediately face to face with the emblazoned mask of a Garden cultist, and bucked out without thought. His partner leaped into the center of the room, taking out as many as she could in a second as the ritual began to work it's magic, with a new dark furred target in the center. A smile began spreading across her face as the gun she held clattered to the floor.

---*---

Torches flared blue, and the room lit up. Neon green lightning crackled, ensnaring the two new entries, and reality peeled apart around them, revealing a white void. Colors ran like a painting as Dent's vision began fading.

---*---

When Dent awoke, he initially thought he had never left; cultists sat around them, lying on the cold stone floor. His partner stood up beside him, looking around the room, seemingly more informed than he was.

"It worked." She seemed incredulous, showing the most emotion he had ever seen from her. "It... worked. All I need to do is find her, and... I can go home." She laughed out loud, standing up on her milky white hooves and picking up the Hyperion, helping him stand.

"She has to be here somewhere. All we need to do is start looking."

He had almost thought his partner incapable of lapses in judgement. It humbled him to find she was still only equine after all.

Potion Seller (OC; Comedy)

"Potion Seller! I am going into battle and require your strongest potions."

"You realize I barely have any potions right? I'm more of a Needful Things than any kind of one-trick salesman."

Mancha ignored the potion seller, travelling through the store with a delicate hand brushing along the shelves, the contents of each entirely different from the last time he had visited. The bored clerk, whose name he could never remember sat at his desk, barely paying attention to his customer and choosing instead to fiddle with his nametag.

The store was filled to the brim with bits and bobs; Books from House of Leaves to The Enchiridion, monuments and statues that diligently stood in place and resisted the urge to scratch their itches, a wall of masks that turned the wearers into vampires and monsters and dudes wearing really cool masks, weapons, a cute rat snoozing on a display table, a Health Department shutdown slip, and what appeared to be a large rabbit fursuit slumped over in the corner.

"Some employees of such a store would be delighted to have anyone step foot in them."

"Come sit on this side of the counter for incomprehensible hours and listen to me berating you."

Mancha sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "Do you have any potions? At all?"

"Oh, sure. Just remember not to expect much from spooky shopkeepers."

The employee reached down behind his desk, fishing around and placing a few useless totems on the table, before pulling out a small glass bottle. Inside sat an idyllic scene one could mistake for a snowglobe, albeit missing half of the name; a green field of flowers, with a tiny yellow equinish creature peacefully snoozing inside, occasionally kicking a leg in their slumber.

"What is it?" Mancha's eyes lit up, taking in the sunny hill lit by something far powerful than the dim torch lights of the shop just out of the globe's sight.

"It's a pony."

"How is that useful?"

"You expect too much from us. I just work here."

"Health? Mana? Literally anything?"

"Pony."

He took the pony.

---*---

Mancha dived behind an overturned branch, catching his breath as a barrage of arrows turned the fallen tree into an elongated hedgehog that also happened to look a lot like a tree. Rifling through his bags, he threw aside broken weapons before finally coming to his saving grace; the last potion, surviving hours of jostling around in his bags, come to save his life and pull him out of the And it's the damn pony again.
Sighing as loudly as he could to.... show the big monsters he was annoyed, he guessed, Mancha slammed the bottle against the log, spilling grass, flowers, glass shards, and a buttercup yellow pony out, all suddenly growing in size.

Shaking his head, the new creature looked up at his summoner, speaking his eloquent first word, "What?"

It was no I Art Thou, that was for sure.

"I don't suppose you spit lasers?" Mancha disdainfully asked.

"No? Should I?"

"You really should."

"Where am I?" A furious feline head poked over the log, snarling through overgrown yellow fangs that seemed more useful for attracting mates than anything teeth should actually do.

The creature's powerful human arms reached for the tiny horse, lifting it high into the air. Thinking quickly, Mancha picked up the unbroken handle of the potion, and drove it as far as he could into the creature's chest. It roared, dropping the walking sunflower and beating its chest like a gorilla, in an intimidatingly stupid show of bravado that immediately pushed the handle deeper. The roaring quickly became a whimper, and it leapt over the log, bounding into the woods.

Mancha stopped for a second, breathing heavily, before glaring back at the dazed pony, lifting another spent bottle.

"Get back in."

Batu (OC; Slice Of Life)

In an isolated part of a town running along the length of a river, a wooden sign advertised the services of the adjacent tavern; occasionally magically flickering to 'pub' or 'bar' for the purpose of sewing utter despair in a mildly annoying way. To make matters even more despicable, the arrow on the sign pointed in the completely wrong direction from the large building it stuck out from.

Inside that building, a large ungulate awkwardly pushed through the crowd of regulars, blissfully ignoring the glares pointed in her direction as she bustled through them, occasionally toppling or stepping on smaller patrons before finally coming up to the pleasantly lit table and plopping down on the floor, crushing a barstool under her mass. Her head flopped down onto the table, and she smiled at the pony behind it.

"What do you drink here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Alcohol."

"I'll have some of that."

He moved the cup he had been cleaning under a spigot and filled it with apple cider, not taking his eyes off her. When he was done, he delicately placed it in front of her, rubbing off a small stain on the side and retracting. She sniffed the cup experimentally.

"Would you like to pay for that?" The barkeep commented in a tone dryer than most of the liquids he sold.

"Oh.... With that?"

"Bits."

She thought his addition over, churning mental gears that hadn't moved in a good while.

"Can I have some of those?" She brilliantly deducted her solution. The barkeep's eyes narrowed.

"I- I'll pay." The two turned to a tired looking unicorn patron sitting at the end with a baseball bat strapped to her back, scooting next to the new girl and generously passing over some bits. The barkeep took them, and the new girl happily picked up the entire glass in her jaws, crunching down on it and swallowing. The patron winced, shakily extending a hoof.

"Finch."

"Hmm?"

"Finch! Finch Chirm. That's my name."

"Oh!" She took his hoof, shaking it vigorously. "I'm Batu! Pleasure to meet you!" She turned back to the wooden table, licking off stray drops, and Finch got her best profile view.

Batu's head closely resembled that of certain chimera heads, adorned with two corkscrew horns and long flowing silver hair that made her seem a lot wiser than she clearly was. Two intricately woven pillows sat resting on her back, holding up a wooden piece that appeared to be a fancy six-pack beer holder. groups of potions sat stuffed into each wooden pouch, many of which were leaking trails out the door, and quite a few had been dropped off and lay depressingly on the floor behind them. Some were even expelling purple gases, contaminating the air in yet to be seen ways.

"You're... certainly interesting. What brings you here?"

"Ponies!"

"None of those here, sorry." Batu didn't seem to notice his deadpan, happily continuing on.

"I've constantly heard stories of you guys! And you're everywhere here! I don't get up to much back home, but things are always happening here! Just look around! So many interesting faces!"

Every face in the building was either lying on the table, lying on the floor, or far bypassing their interestingness with their intimidatingness. Quite a few had masks.

"When things happen too often, they sort of lose their charm."

"Don't worry, I won't be here long! But still, if you've been here longer, maybe you could.... Guide me around? Give me some pointers and whatnot?" Her eyes lit up as she turned to him, gushing nearly an inch away from his muzzle. He gave his best expression of disinterestedness, but it appeared her range of consciousness was a very short one.

"Urgh.... Alright. I'll show you around, for...?"

"Three days!"

"Thr- Three days? Yeah, alright. Of course."

She squealed happily, pulling Finch into a tight and hairy hug. Several more bottles toppled out, a few shattering on the floor. The barkeep grumbled.

One bottle lasted, continuing to roll far across the table, dodging bodies and hooves with all the skill of a mindless potion bottle, finally coming to a stop at the leg of a wooden table in the corner. For a peaceful, hot second it sat there, undisturbed by the movement in waves around it, until being unceremoniously shattered by a collapsing patron, face drenched in various forms of alcohol.

"I hear you guys can do magic!" Batu gleefully pointed out, eyes wandering to the bat atop Finch's back. "Is that your wand?"

"It is. It's not a very good one, unfortunately. Its only spell is Break Rib." Finch sipped from her drink, already tired of the ungulate next to her.

"That sounds good! I can't do anything magical, I just have-"

"Oh, not again." The barkeep and Finch spoke at once, both simultaneously noticing the commotion at the back of the tavern. Patrons began quickly getting up, and fire spread rapidly from its source of a drunken, flailing face.

"Potions! She's the girl with the-" A nosy patron's accusation was subtly suppressed as her head connected with the wooden table in Finch's magic, and he calmly levitated his bat out, nudging Batu.

"We should probably leave."

Her eyes were wide with amazement as carnage began bustling around them, already violent drinkers taking their opportunity to help their hapless buddies find a more literal definition of smashed. Batu and Finch quietly moved around them, stepping over fallen comrades and dodging stray spell shots in their lazily general direction. Batu's wooden pack jiggled, more potions falling out of their stacks and shattering onto the floor, turning the liquor on the stone floor fascinating shades of colors yet unknown to equinity, and terrorizing poor future janitors and doctors arriving at the site.

Outside, the pair turned to the flaming pub, watching it quickly light in beautiful colors and spread to the wooden buildings besides it, stunned into silence as escaping ponies shoved past them. Batu seemed no less put off at the spreading flames and destruction than she had eating glass shards.

"I told you things were already happening! Oh, I'm so excited! Do you think we'll see a dragon? Do those exist? I don't know which of the creatures I've heard of are fairy tails and which ones are real! Do you have orcs? Humans? Mongeese?"

Finch rubbed his eyes as fire began lighting the alcohol puddles on the street around them, groaning.

"Celestia..."

Scorched (Celestia, Twilight; Sad/Hopeful)

A soft hiss filled the room, and billowing steam made vision near-impossible even after finding she could open her eyes. Eventually, the gas faded, dissipating into the rest of the room, and she found herself face to face with a grinning white muzzle.

"So you CAN wake up! C'mon, sleepy head!"

Twilight moaned in pain, stretching her limbs out far, feeling very much as if she had been sleeping on her side awkwardly for the last thousand years. Upon stretching, she came face to hoof with herself for the first time, and nearly screamed; her leg was twisted, bent at unnatural angles, and riddled with holes- matted hair barely clung to it, completing the cancerous look of her own body. Looking up at her waker wasn't much better; the exact same twisted bastardization of a face looked back at her, gaunt and shrunken, but still smiling widely.

"C'mon, let a friend in- What's going on?"

"I..."

Twilight caught a look at the rest of the room for the first time, noting the long metal corridor stretching on before slanting upwards. She had been sleeping in a green pod, an odd fusion of biological and metallic, with wires and metal plates snaking inside and covering the organism, seemingly breathing in and out slowly, as if on the edge of death. Similar pods sat against the walls down the hallway, all of which either open and cobweb covered or closed, the insides fogged up and impenetrable by the naked eye.

"...I don't know. Where are we?"

"I don't know! Kind of exciting! Come on, we can't stay in here forever!"
Celestia- Yes, that was her name, of course... How had she forgotten?- took her hoof, pulling her out of the steam and sludge onto the cold metal floor, happily bouncing between legs and smiling down at her. Twilight stumbled to her feet, steadying herself against the larger mare and looking down the long hallway.

---*---

The double doors may have been locked at some point, but the bolts had long since rusted apart, and sat on the inside at that. Twilight gently levitated the doors apart and was instantly hit with a wave of heat, nearly suffocating in its intensity. Waves of light danced over her eyes, and she awkwardly stumbled onto the blistering hot surface, colliding with something metallic as she did.

Her vision finally cleared, and she saw a small computer on a pedestal in front of her- which quickly became forgotten as she saw what lay beyond it. An endless plain of yellow sand, shimmering in her vision the further out she looked. In the distance, small houses and buildings could be spotted. Turning around, she saw the tip of a large mountain hanging over everything, and the city below they stood in; streets covered in sand, buildings and houses sunken down, and broken remains trailing down the cliffsides of the mountain, as if the entire city had slid down from its peak.
Celestia trotted up next to her, smiling in awe as they looked around. After a moment of silence, she headed over to the computer, curiously tapping at the screen with her muzzle. The screen flickered, screen permanently wavy in the heat, and the vague outline of a face appeared. For several tantalizing moments, a voice rang out clearly, but never lasted long, and eventually died in the heat.

"You- Backu- Celes- Sun- In case of-"

The computer depressingly sagged, as if beginning to melt, and the two turned to each other.

"Something's wrong." Twilight gravely stated the obvious.

"Do YOU remember what this place used to look like?"

"N-No?"

"Then what's the problem? We're just in the desert. I'm sure we're fine." Celestia casually blew off the obvious.

"Well..." Twilight looked around, searching for any clue that could validate her suspicions. "We... We should get up high. Are you sure you don't remember anything?"

Celestia looked thoughtful, staring blankly into space and biting her lip.

"I... Hmm... There will come..."

"You remember something?"

"Not anything about my life, but... I remember a poem! Or maybe it's a song? I'm not sure."

She cleared her throat and began to recite, straining to remember each individual line.

"There will come soft rains, and the smell of the ground... And swallows calling with their shimmering sound... Robins will wear their feathery fire... Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire... And not one... Um...duhduhduh.... And Spring herself... Ah, darn."

"Well... Alright, let's try and get higher up, okay?" Twilight awkwardly smiled, trying to make herself feel better.

---*---

Twilight pulled herself onto an outcropping of stone, letting her wings rest from the long fly up. What remained of a house sat strewn around her, colliding with the outcropping on the way down and staying there. Celestia fluttered down next to her, taking a minute to enjoy the view. Twilight couldn't help but sigh, looking out on the day.

"Aww, you alright there?" Celestia warmly smiled down at her.

"We both know something happened."

"Yeah, but come on! We can't stay sad about it forever! We lasted, didn't we? We've still got each other. All we have to do is keep moving forward, and we'll be alright. Tomorrow is another day. Forget your troubles, come on get happy, get ready for... Pfft. Why can't I remember any of these?"

She goofily shook her head, quickly forgetting about it, and chose instead to nuzzle against Twilight. She bristled in the taller mare's embrace, but eventually found herself sinking in, worried briefly ebbing. Everything was not okay, but Tia was right. She couldn't worry. All she had to do was pretend everything was okay, and maybe it would be.

The heat beat down on them, growing less powerful as it fell beneath the horizon, seeming to swallow everything under it with its sheer mass, looming over distant villages and slowly loosening the its hold over the land as the gargantuan blood-red sun sunk softly.

Lyra Watches MLP (Lyra, Human; Slice Of Life)

Lyra Heartstrings sat on a brown leather couch with a small caking of dust, staring in silence as credits rolled over the flatscreen tv in front of her to the tune of an easily marketable jingle. Her muzzle wrinkled, and one of her ears adorably flicked on occasion as she thought, no hint of an emotion besides mild interest reflected across her face.

"This is entertainment?"

"Meant to make a profit for capitalistic toy companies." I affirmed, crossing my noticeably human arms and leaning against the back of my guest's couch.

"And it... came entirely from the brain of a human."

"Several brains. If you wanted to conspiracy theorize you could pin it on the collective unconscious, I suppose."

"Hmm." The normally talkative and excitable pone sat in contemplation, mulling thoughts over. I humored the idea of taking the opportunity to get some work done, but remained planted.

"Existential crisis?"

"Not really. I still have every bit as much evidence I'm real as I did before. Don't worry, I'm not going to break down crying on your floor. It's just interesting."

Interest rarely remains in one mind. I could exploit this.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Sure."

We sat there in silence for a minute, until I finally groaned in realization and fished some spare change out of my pocket.

"How deep do you think this goes? In either way. Back home, it came out a few years ago that the author of a relatively famous book series had actually lived out the adventures she wrote about. It's not the same as this, but can you imagine if your life was a TV Show? What would that say about you?"

"I think it would say we should re-think some early South park episodes."

"I'm not gonna get human references. Anyway, we're both obviously real people in a real world, but somewhere that might not be true."

"And people die when they are killed."

Lyra threw her hooves in the air, snorting frustratedly. "Listen buddy, YOU paid me, YOU want me to get philosophical about something I described as 'interesting'. Maybe you're still in a tizzy because no human predicted their visitors to be cute and fluffy-"

"Harry Turtledove did, but we kind of assumed he was joking." I pointed out.

"I'm not going to get human references, dude! All I'm saying is it makes me think, and if you expect me to be able to accurately summarize my thoughts into neat columns, maybe humans are more different from us than I expected."

I nodded. "I guess that sums it up more finally than any philosophical discourse. No matter the dimension, minds are dumb and reality is a little bit fake."

The credits wrapped up, and autoplay started ticking down for the next episode. Wind gently blew outside, the sun trickled its rays down as it had for billions of years, and time continually marched on, indifferent to the concerns of its inhabitants.

"Hey, want to read some fanfiction about you romancing humans?"

"Whoa, they have those here?"

Actually, I'm Dash (Rainbow Dash, Twilight; Comedy)

Dash awoke with a start, and immediately realized the oxymoronical nature of that sentence. Right off the bat she could tell she had no skin, muscle, heart, lungs, and somehow even less brain then she had before; such a skewed ratio of body to mind that Mary Shelley would weep and René Descartes would fist pump. Thankfully, her worries were quickly dismissed, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she finally realized where her body was. On the table, two feet away from her.

Twilight stood hunched over her, gripping Dash's disembodied leg tightly and measuring pulse. Confident that there was none, she dropped it, and quietly swore in a tone not at all proportional to the circumstances of her friend dying; it was more akin to the tone of voice I take when my cat looks me directly in the eyes and places a paw deliberately in my microwave mac and cheese.

Machines surrounded her, beeping and whirring and displaying a menagerie of egghead appliances, such as vitals, heartbeat, Robotron 2084, and a recording of the Rocky Horror Picture Show for inspiration on spitting in Faust's face with forbidden magic.

Dash decided to take a chance, taking note of her detachment from gravity as she pulled herself over to Twilight like an astronaut with a broken tether.

"Twi! Twiiiii! Hello!"

She didn't respond, wrenching open the mouth of Corporeal Dash and peering inside curiously.

"Hey, hold the autopsy, You don't get to mess with my body while I'm still-"

She reached out for her friend, only to be wrenched out of the air the second she made contact. Her limbs flew to match Twilight's like an Iron Man suit, and as much as she tried holding back her head, eventually the two merged. Light flashed in her eyes, and before she could register She was back to the physical plane.

Dash!

"Twilight?"

Dash spun, practically toppling her body off the table, and quickly took note of the new appendage on her head and the 10 pounds she had suddenly gained. Among some other, less important things probably.

Dash! Is that you? I can't move!

"Yeah, it's me. This is... new. Sorry about your body, I kind of needed it. See, I kinda got yanked out of flight practice, and-"

You got yanked out of flight practice because you died. You collided with a stone wall. Your skull fractured and shards were forced into your brain and throat, if not further.

"Nice. Cool. Hey, you've got wings, right?"

I- Dash! That's MY body! Give it back, and let me get back to work resurrecting you!

"Just- Hold on, I've got an idea."

DASH

Dash ignored her, grabbing pens and a pad of paper.

"Alright, give me the formulas or whatever. Whatever will bring me back when we're done."

I don't know! Because you evicted my soul!

"Well, give me what you've got so far. We'll leave it for Starlight. I'm going to be careful, and when I'm done you'll get this back, but JUST IN CASE, I'm putting this here."

DASH

---*---

Twilight stumbled back, hours later, every part of her sore and alternating between screaming and stubbornly ignoring her, as if her body had the same properties of a small child; which, a few minutes ago, it might as well have had.

Dash's soul loop-de-looped around her, occasionally snapping her head back into Twilight's to gush or cheer at decibels painful to the recovering alicorn.

"Thanks for that dude! Hell of a work-out" She happily remarked, backflipping into the air through Twilight and speaking her thoughts as she passed through before landing to possess her machines, hopping around the room through them.

"You rea.... You realize.... That won't affect you? Your body's been here the whole time. All you got was adrenaline."

"And that's all I need!" Her computer boasted, before the lights went out and a generator beside it simultaneously lit up. "You think I need a work out? My normal body's so toned, I'll probably drop dead by 30!"

Twilight glared at the generator, inhabitant oblivious to her own irony.

Author's Note

The picture that inspired this

Love you (Spike, Twilight; Horror)

Twilight frowned in boredom, lighting her horn yet again to flip to the next world, looking out over a perfect replica of her own with a sigh. The mirror portal she gazed upon gave her the power to cast an eye over trillions of nearby dimensions, seeing nearly every possible future and reality conceivable from any point in time from the present moment to the big bang. Endless possibilities lay beyond it, and with a simple modification she had turned the mirror into a looking glass, flipping through views of each world like channels on the world's most powerful TV.

And naturally, the thousand or so closest were all worlds where the defining difference was what side of the bed she rolled out of, how long she sharpened her quills, and the color of her assistant's egg.

She began getting frustrated, flipping her horn into overdrive, speeding through the same picture of the same ponyville street over and over again, searching for any noticeable difference.

She almost missed it in her furious flipping, quickly speeding to a stop and backtracking through the identical worlds, until she came across one significantly different. The sun was a little higher, the horizon was a little purpler, the tree by Lyra's house was tilted slightly, and Lyra's house was completely gone along with all other trace of civilization. A barren wasteland of soil stretched out for miles, only dotted with dying trees and small hills.

She stared at it, uneasiness creeping up her back slightly, before deciding to blot it out. She flipped the channel, feeling a weight lift off her lungs as she was greeted with yet another identical street in the early morning. Sighing, she returned to her monotony, letting her concern slip from her mind...

Another wasteland flashed. She ignored it, shutting her eyes for a second. Another one flashed. And another. And another. Pristine sleepiness faded into a final drawn out string of flashing images like a single yarn extending from the rest of the ball before disappearing completely, replaced with nothing but brown and grey, filling her vision in a cascading streamline of flashing images burning into her brain. No matter how far she scrolled with her horn, the mirror showed one thing and one thing only. The line between life and destruction was one barrier of dimensions long, and beyond that, every world she saw was dead.

She finally forced herself to stop, despite her keenness to march forward stubbornly until she came across a living world she could close it on. The wasteland stretched before her, looking like the ashen earth could come cascading through the portal onto her carpet. She softly turned the lock to the room she sat in with a horn, before struggling to her hooves, limping over to the portal in a trance.

The portal enveloped her, letting her pass through the barrier like a wall of water, stepping into the dust and smelling the ashes for the first time. Oddly, the ashes smelt like petrichor.

Not a trace of her home remained, and it seemed like everything else followed her suit. A standing, but remarkably bare Canterlot Mountain loomed in the distance, the one beacon of the past remaining turned into nothing but a sad reminder, striving for a hope it could never reach. All else was gone, razed off the map completely.

She rotated in place for a minute, head swimming and sky stretching endlessly above her, seeming ready to pluck her off the ground with its own gravitational field at any second. Thoughts swam through her head clockwise as she turned counterclockwise, seeking to maliciously disorient as she stared up to the heavens in shock.

When she returned, she left the room in a haze. A quick, empty grocery run blurring around her later, she was back in the room, doors locked and ready to search until she collapsed. Worlds and realities sped past her as she leaped in and out of portals, spending no more than a few minutes in each one to gauge her surroundings. Any more and her heart began to float, her eyes unfocusing, her breath catching, and her entire body violently rejecting the new world she found herself in.

Over and over the motions went, absorbing every difference in wastelands she could. Some were bathed in hellish fire coursing over the land, ravenously devouring all it could touch. Some were frozen over, bodies around her maintained in a constant state of phantom life, forever encapsulated in the one moment before frigid cold swept over all. Some were burnt out husks of the town she knew, keeping her rooted in her spot as she stared at the ashen outlines of playing children and relaxing adults burnt into the side of a standing wall. Some were forests, growing invasively, in which clicks and giggles filled the void with noise just out of sight. Every world was a painting, a photograph rooted in one place eternally with none left to turn the planet forward.

And one was a desert. She gazed upon the familiar emptiness, covered in sand, and began to leave again. Turning back to the mirror, something caught her eye- Something buried in the sand, only an inch of bleached white sticking out in the sea of yellow. Scrambling to dig, her breath grew ragged, beyond stressed and tired by this point, desperate for any sign of equine life. Luckily, she found one.

Twilight stared into Twilight, her agape mouth nearly wrenched off as she was dragged out of the sand. Her empty sockets bore holes into Twilight's skull as it lay in Twilight's grasp, and she barely noticed the spots in her eyes. The alicorn from out of the mirror stared at the skeletal alicorn from out of the sand, and she suddenly saw a flashing clipshow in her mind, identical to the flashes of the mirror portal cycling through worlds.

Her mind showed Twilight, eyes widening as Nightmare Moon's horn slid through her like butter, rupturing arteries and shattering bones instantly. Her mind showed Twilight, spine breaking as Tirek brought his fist upon her at full strength, landing a perfect blow as she tried to speed past him. Her mind showed Twilight, body and soul withering in a green cocoon as the hazy image of Chrysalis smiled at her outside. Her mind showed Twilight, flesh blistering and fur burning as she boiled in the stomach of a hydra.

Every death removed a piece from harmony's puzzle, every death bringing another world fallen to the cascade of monsters and madmen she was destined to battle. Every world hinged on her and her friends, and even a single slip up could kill not only her, but innocents as well.

Every fight she had resulted in a world where she lost, where everyone lost. Every battle tossed a dice where every side won, in different universes. She was the most important piece, and her rogues gallery was infinite.

Twilight dropped the skeleton, stumbling back into the portal and shutting it as fast as possible, trying desperately to quell the screams bubbling out of her throat. For a minute she stood there, in front of the dead portal, struggling to catch her breath and push stray hairs out of her eyes.

A knock sounded from the door, and she unlocked it unthinkingly.

"Twi?" Spike's voice sounded out from the doorway quietly.

"Yes?" She replied breathlessly.

"You okay? I heard whimpering."

"I'm fine. Just playing with the portal."

He nodded, satisfied. "Alright. The girls are getting ready to go to lunch. You going?"

"I'll catch up. I just need a minute."

He flashed her a thumbs up, starting to head out the door. Twi turned to him, watching him as he passed back through the doorway. She had never noticed how tall he was getting.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, Twi?"

"I love you."

He smiled. "Love you too. See you around."

Author's Note

Text Prompt: Twilight is messing with the Magic Mirror to see if it can find any realms more interesting than Pedestria, but bizarrely most alternate reality Equestrias are blasted desert wastelands. She forms a team to explore one of these ruined worlds for some answers. (Darkly Hooves)

New Kid (OC; Slice of Life)

"I'm sure you'll come to like it here. It's not bad, for a school."

Schlangenfutter listened intently, keeping a neutral expression that was easily overlooked when such other things as his ditzy fluttering in wide circles around his guide, like he was caught on an endlessly powerful breeze, could be observed instead. He blew some yellow hair out of his face, considering taking a break by landing on top of his guide's head and resting his wings, but figured that wouldn't be the best first impression.

Dixie watched him as he careened wildly through the air around her, biting her lip and trying to remain half as stoic as the breezie was with hooves off the ground. Hooves? Feet? Hands? She wasn't sure, and at this point she was afraid to ask. Breezies were still relatively new to her, as was observing them as more than a simple yearly phenomenon.

"Six periods, a lunch, and some physical education. Each period is about 45 minutes long, Lunch is about thirty, and you have about five minutes to cross classes. I'd... Recommend getting a friend's help with that."

"Acknowledged."

Dixie stifled a laugh, turning away to hide her amusement at the tinny accent with twice the squeak of a rusty Belle and three hundred times the seriousness. If a stereotypical yes man inhaled helium before screaming at a colleague a building away, they might sound similar to Schlangenfutter's serious voice. To another breezie, he would probably sound like a reverse Invader Zim impressionist at his current octave.

"Don't ask about the 19th story, bring your own lunch, ignore any mooing you might hear when you're alone, and.... I think that's pretty much it. I'm excited to get to meet y-"

Dixie stopped herself as they reached a T Junction, turning right to see the hallway they faced ending in a portal to an endless void slowly entropying the lockers around it. Floating in the void, a massive multi armed being of metal and flesh, faceless and hairless, using four of its arms to grapple onto the school and the entrance into our reality, desperately fighting to keep from being trapped in the hell that it resided in.
With its other arms, it waled and walloped six students forming a barrier in front of it, lashing out to push it off the school. A glowing purple thaumic shield, maintained by a translucent archalicorn in the form of Princess Twilight herself, protected the six students from the beast's blows while they took any window of opportunity they could to land their own, biting, clawing, igniting, smashing, and bucking every opening they could get their limbs on.

"Ooh, almost forgot, that happens too sometimes." Dixie kicked herself for forgetting, suddenly jetting out her forehooves to catch Schlangenfutter as he finally dropped out of the air.

"...Okay. Do they... Need any help?" He contemplated, before drawing out the question from his lips slowly and carefully. He had spend barely a week out of his home village, and he wasn't about to make a fool of himself by not knowing about the... Annual hostile dimensional takeover, or whatnot.

"Nah, they're fine, just stay away from the Tear. The void back there isn't pretty deeper in."

Dixie graciously deposited Schlangenfutter on her back, trotting on the same hallway and racking her brain for what she missed.

"Ooh, that reminds me, we are situated rather close to a magical forest filled with monsters and stuff, so we occasionally do get stray beasts coming in. We normally just call one of the new element bearers, or teachers, or headmare, or Louis the Yard Teacher."

He nodded. "I'm cool with that. My old village was always being attacked by birds or frogs or... Well, snakes obviously." He added the last part, pointing to himself

She didn't bother to ask why that was obvious. "Cool, that should prepare you for the school sized space bears. Speaking of which, what was your village like? Aren't they like, in liminal spaces and stuff? Ooh, have you ever met a Fae? Or an Alp Luchara? Kitsune?"

"Yes, no, no, and no. They're like... Only accessible through tiny doorways and stuff. Err, are there any school events I should know about?" He quickly added upon confronting the fact that even he had no idea how it worked.

"Besides our standard holidays, not really. We used to have an annual event called the 'Friendship Games' with our rival schools, Blackwell and Hope's Peak, but when they realized the next generation of element bearers chosen by a magical tree that kept the school alive and fought back the Everfree Forest went to school here, they decided to stop being rivals."

"Right. Hate it when that happens." He didn't bother to ask how one fights a forest.

"Speaking of holidays, I assume you have different ones?"

"Just one, actually. A holiday around October that celebrates surviving another year being the weakest sapient species on the planet. We call it the futility festival."

"Shouldn't that be around the end of the year?"

"It is. We've never had to rearrange our calendar because none of us lived in Roam." He replied matter-of-factly, sticking out his tongue sarcastically.

Dixie nearly had a heart attack as he did, "SWEET CEL- Sorry! I didn't expect you to have such a long tongue! That kinda freaked me out!"

"No offense taken." He took a second to roll it back into his jaw.

Dixie stared at him curiously, before releasing a small chuckle.

"You're an odd duck. I think you'll fit in well here."

Author's Note

Text Prompt: A breezie joins the School of Friendship. (Nitro_Indigo)

Isekai Quartet (OC, Pinkie Pie; Comedy)

"You! Maiden! I-"

"Get in line."

Kato paused, already surprised by the change of events, and only three words in. Pinkie had hit a record.

"I..."

"Dead, I assume?"

"I... Believed so, once. But as I floated through the void, a Goddess of time and water approached me, offering to pull me back from oblivion and give me a second chance, in a world where-"

"Right, got it. That explains the getup."

Kato awkwardly looked down at himself, scratching his arm with a finger in embarrassment. He thought the belt, high collared waist-length green cape, pirate/vampire-esque white cut shirt, and even higher boots looked good. Clearly the tiny, tired, pink horse begged to differ, and despite the fact that she was naked herself, he felt oddly inclined to trust her fashion advice.

"Join the others. I'll be with you in a second, after your internal description ends." Pinkie said, sighing and rubbing her forehead.

Kato turned to the other three in the group, sitting around on tree stumps in the middle of the wooded clearing he had stumbled across- A muddy brown feathered gryphon with a large black sword strung onto his back, a Vantablack winged unicorn with blood red eyes, and an orange furred horse of about the same build as the pink one who had greeted him, wearing a stetson on a golden blonde ponytail. They awkwardly waved as he looked for a seat, finding none and electing to stand stoically with his cape flowing breezelessly instead.

Pinkie trotted in front of them, stamping a hoof frustratedly. Despite being smaller than all of them, she commanded attention they nervously gave, wary of the tiny angry woman who had collected the four in this wood.

"Okay, let's get a few things straight first of all. You can call me Pinkie, When I point to you, give me your name and a clear description of how you got here, and if any one of you says you walked, I'm going to scream. I'm the one telling jokes here, busters."

All complied, driven forward by the threat of high pitched screams.

"My name is Raven... I was-"

"You were bullied on earth for being a brony, you met a mysterious man who offered to give you a better life, you were booted here. The trash bin of the multiverse." Ponk echoed monotonously, in the tone of someone who had heard the story a million times before. The gryphon nodded, befuddled.

"my nam is Balck Blackness Amnesia Gryphon Bryar..." The ailcrn drawed misterusly. "i woke with Amnesia... thats hoe i got my nam..."

(AN: OMGF here she iss!!!!
Black: shhhhhhhhh!!!!
Me: 0_o)

"Please stop talking. Please stop talking. Please stop talking." Pinkie begged. "Guys, I am really trying not to be a grumpypants here, but I've been through a lot these past few weeks. Please be patient with me." She took a second to take a deep breath, before her flattening hair suddenly sprung back up, and she smiled widely at Applejack.

"Brain swapped, I presume?"

"Eeyup, Ah'd say so." She confirmed, looking away nervously. "Ah don't ever recall talking like this back on Earth."

"We'll get you back to normal, I promise. We'll get you all sorted out, but there is something important I need to discuss first."

Kato hadn't even been asked for his name. He considered assuming a more simplistic art style and turn his arms into flailing lines to yell at her, but elected instead to sulk in the corner and grow mushrooms on his back.

"I have herded every visitor I could find in here, the nexus point of all recent appearances of those who were not here before, human and otherwise. Some of you have been booted here as avatars for otherwordly gods, some have been brainswapped to make way for the plans of evil entities, and some were never here an hour ago, but always were now."

Although her quartet was unaware, she was being unusually serious, even in the third person exposition she transported to the pages of earthly fanfiction writers for the purpose of helping deliver the call for help AJ's inhabitant was fruitlessly trying to mentally broadcast in a body he hadn't yet realized possessed no fourth wall breaking powers. It burnt her up to act this way, bur serious matters were serious matters a- Darn it, she misspelled but. Balck's own unfiltered, un-spellchecked monologue was also being broadcast alongside her own, next to the comic panels Kato was unsuccessfully trying to broadcast. It hurt jher head.

"Past visitors have helped us, they have hindered us, they have saved us from total oblivion, they have slaughtered millions. But all have had one thing in common- They have all come to me, and asked me to throw them a welcome party. And not one has donated a cent to pay for it! I can't afford all of you! I just cannot! I am setting up a toll road! All visitors need to pay me ten bits before they can set off on this world!" Pinkie overloaded, spewing out all of her frustration and hurt, slathering it all over the quartet like butter on a piece of toast, a bagel, a piece of toast that had a bagel's brain, and a burnt piece of toast.

"Donut b e a prep!" Teh burnt piece of toast ejaculuted, eyes golwing with ~~unfamothable~~ ~~unfmtahoble~~ enrgy thswt could nbot be fatthomed. "I've ben around fir years, bidiing and primmed, aftr my creatro abnsaoned me!"

"No! You have not! You inserted your self into existence twenty minutes ago, and retconned the timeline as a result!" Pinkie strained to say, biting her lip from the numbing force of his internal exposition.

"None of you existed a minute ago! I don't mind, I promise, I love making new friends, but I need to be compensated for all the parties I've thrown! From now on, if you enter this dimension, you pay the toll! You can repay me later if you come here broke, but you will pay before you leave! Do you understand?"

Raven nodded. AJ Eeyuped. Kato turned away and said 'tch'. Balck twatched her ears.

Pinkie nodded happily. "Good! Is there anything else we need? No? Alright, go find your gods and demons and sorcerers, and defeat them for the good of the land, and collect ten bits along the way."

The quartet nodded, and all four headed off on their own way.

Raven would go on to become a pirate antihero, fighting dragons and diamond dogs for justice in the distant badlands alongside his waifu Gilda. They would spawn three sequels, but only the first would become any well known.

Applejack's inhabitant would go on to befriend a kitsune and anticlimactically drop a book on the head of the wizard who swapped his brain with the real AJ to break up the elements, wisecracking all the way. He died instantly. The inhabitant returned to earth and had a crisis when he realized he reached his peak at age 21.

Kato met the goddess who sent him to Equestria, who had now taken the form of a large breasted maid and vowed to serve him on his quest. The two traveled for five more seasons, but never became very popular in the western world.

Black got to meet Marty McFly and Buffy Summers on his quest, but just before he had his final battle for the fate of the world, his author left for a trip to england, where she red a bad review and subequently slit huh rists. Balck vanished from existance and was never seen again.

Author's Note

Text Prompt: Humans keep getting isekai'd into Equestria and Pinkie Pie is starting to get annoyed because they all expect welcome parties, but none of them ever pay into the Community Party Fund. (csos95)

Chomp (Scootaloo; Comedy, Slice of Life)

"Scootaloo... Scootaloo!"

Scootaloo's eyes shot open with the trained reflexes of someone who was beyond used to their dreams being torn open by the shouting of her name. It was best to answer before the third ring.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, hold on!" Scootaloo yelped, throwing herself out of her sleeping bag, jumping over a pan, her beloved scooter, and a poster of Rainbow Dash that seemed to have fallen from her wall in the night.

Tent walls are hard to hang things from.

She shoved the flaps open, by now wide awake, and bolted towards the source of the voice, nearly tripping over the length of scale resting outside her tent, hopping it at the last moment before falling into a roll on the dirt outside.

A massive serpentine form was coiled around their entire camp, lazily snoozing despite the calls emanating from it. Scootaloo's panic subsided as the danger became clear, groaning and approaching the head. Its yellow eyes stared dead into her, each easily the size of her head and motionless as it slept. She tracked the voice down to a spot a few inches down its throat, and kneeled against the scales, calling out.

"That you, Dad?"

"Morning, Scoots! Did, ah, did I feed Alice last night?"

"No, no, I don't think you did. Or she's just feeling rebellious."

"Well, go wake up mom. Or maybe just wait until she's woken, she deserves her sleep."

"No need for either, dad, I can handle this."

Scootaloo rounded on the head again, gently tapping the end of its snout until it was roused. The eyes twitched and faced Scootaloo as it raised its head, flicking a tongue out to catch a whiff.

"Morning, Alice, rise and shine! How'd you sleep?"

Flick. flick.

"Nice, real nice. Say, uh, completely random, but would you mind spitting out Dad?"

Passive aggressive flick.

"I know, I know, but you've got an entire jungle. You're an apex predator, I'm sure you can find something."

Refusing flick.

"Alice."

Flick that indicated the tiny pegasus should find the nearest lake and belly flop into it to see if the gators or rapids would get her first, without a hint of vagueness in her intent.

"Hey, that's not nice, watch your tongue. Listen, spit him out, and we'll make it up to you."

Inquiring flick.

"Gems. Roc eggs. As many belly rubs as you want."

Flick that indicated at least an accumulative hour, which was curious because snakes can't count, and don't perceive time in a way humans or ponies can comprehend.

"An hour's worth. Deal."

The snake tongue flicked once more in satisfaction, before the head curled up and neck scrunched, no sounds but the movement of fluids accompanying her as she pushed her catch up her throat and spat it onto the ground. One nod bid farewell, and quick as a flash, she was gone into the thick wood.

Scootaloo reached for her dad's foreleg but was blown off when he suddenly rose, flinging saliva and laughing with a twinge of sleep deprivation.

"Whew, that was fun! I've never been that close to a fully grown Garnet Python!"

"I don't believe that for a second, dad." Scootaloo rubbed sleep out of her eyes as it reminded her it was still there, returning her dad's smile with half of his manic energy.

"Are we gonna head deeper into the jungle today?"

"Sure are, sport, We've waited long enough; the killer rabbit migrations have ended, and the blood sun won't last forever. As soon as it ends, the Slaughterbeasts will return to their hibernation, and we won't be able to grab any of their teeth. Get your stuff ready, as soon as your mom wakes up, we're on the road again."

"Two steps ahead of you, hun." Snap Shutter pushed aside foliage to reach the two, shaking her shoulders off. "Had to negotiate with some fae to let us pass through their land. What'd I miss?"

"Well, for one thing, my screaming."

"I figured you had that handled. It was only your level two scream."

The two embraced, taking the moment of serenity to share sweet nothings before righting themselves and turning back to their daughter, happily stimming her wings a mile a minute.

"All ready to pick up camp and move on, champ?"

She nodded vigorously, rattling off a memorized list.

"I just need to get my saddlebags ready. Gauze, band-aids, potions, iron horseshoes, wormwood, the heart of a weasel, and water blessed by Celestia's sun!"

"Hey, don't forget your poster, Scoots. Gotta keep our belongings close by, to reverse any memory erasing spells we might come by."

"All set! What about Alice?"

"You know Alice. She'll always be one step behind us. Nowhere in the jungle is safe. She is an everpresent force of nature mare was not meant to witness in naught but a three dimensional outcrop into our reality."

"Cool!"

Scootaloo retreated back to her tent, taking a few happy hops and skips to get there. Her parents nuzzled in her absence, content in the world they stood in, a world which killed the weak and hardened the strong, a world in which hell flooded to earth.

The problem was, the hellish creatures were all pastel colors, and often really cute, with an adorably sapient nature about them. It made the place hard to stay afraid of.

Author's Note

The prompt that inspired it: Instead of living in Ponyville, Scootaloo travels the world with her parents. (Nitro_Indigo)

Mimidae (OC; Horror, Comedy)

Bird Feed gulped quietly, opening the door to the brig shakily. Fear for his life had diminished considerably since his first visit to his room, but he still found himself on edge every time he came down here. It's inhabitant tended to be wily and mischievous, and took great joy in his paranoia. She always hid when she heard him coming, and although she tended to pop out to try and spook him, if she didn't want to be found, it could be days before they found her.

It seems this time, she really wanted to be found. The room contained nothing but a treasure chest in the center, with a note attached that simply read "Not A Mimic" in loving letters, signed with a cute heart.

"You can come out, Mimidae. We brought food."

The Treasure Chest swung open, and in the brief second he took to blink, the note shifted to simply read "I Lied". A long pink tongue lolled out of the chest, flopping lazily onto the floor.

Bird Feed swallowed, gently placing a dirty plate of collected scraps from their dinner onto the tongue, cringing as his hooves brushed the bumpy surface. Immediately it snapped back, and the chest opened and closed a few more times to crunches and slurps beneath. Next time something on board broke down, Bird Feed knew he would see shards of porcelain used to repair parts of the ship.

The chest opened one last time, belching loudly, before slamming shut. A low giggle echoed through the room.

"Hiya, birdie! This is the fifth time in a row you've offered to come down here to feed me. You must really like me, huh?"

"I got voted unanimously to do it..." He muttered under his breath.

"Aw, c'mon, don't try to lie to me. You know I can see everything in here! Just admit you like me, it's kinda cute!"

Bird Feed rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically, but couldn't hold back a small grin.

"Well you know, someone has to tame the great bloodthirsty beast to restrain it. Figured I might get try to get some enjoyment out of it." He pulled himself up, looking around at the walls curiously to see where she might be. Or rather, where she wanted him to look.

"Hey, don't be mean! I always spit out a meal if it squirms for more than 30 seconds. Finding where I spit it out is your job."

The chest flipped open again, and a pink mass of tongue shot up again, this time with a significantly more equine form. Mimidae leaned over the side of the treasure chest, tapping her forelegs together excitedly. Wet squelches sounded with each tap.

"But you can't hide from me, Birdy! I know you're holding out on me! Just a simple matter of forgetting your duty, right?"

Feed's eyes widened, and he began to stammer. The brig's walls seemed to shrink in on him as he backed out the door, and Mimidae's equine avatar smirked as it began to slink back into its chest.

"No, I didn't forget, I'm saving that, THAT'S MINE-!"

He turned tail and ran out of the brig. Jail doors slammed open and close, each emitting a laugh as they did. Racing up through halls, the lights were never on in the corridors he needed to take, up until he caught the burning candles in the kitchen and mess hall the crew had just left. He pushed past a few stragglers to reach the inside, just as the entire room lit up in a frenzy.

The dinner table in the middle, supporting freshly made cupcakes, snapped in two, and drawers and cupboards snapped open, a fleshy tentacle, tongue, hand, or other appendage reaching out to snatch at the cupcakes and reel them back into the room's many mouths. An evil cackle filled the room as Bird struggled to save the remaining pastries, swatting at limbs as they reached for his loot. Finally, he felt a finger tap his shoulder, and as he turned around bony grey fingers dug into his barrel, pulling him up and tossing him into a large ceiling-hung cupboard usually reserved for plates and cups, now sporting shards of wood jutting out to make impromptu teeth, and another of her seemingly limitless supply of tongues.

The door shut behind him as he was tossed in, and for a minute all he felt was darkness and the rough tongue below him as he raced through the boat's interior. Part of the reason heading so low into the ship freaked him out is because he knew that Mimidae enjoyed having living, pulsating organs, and he didn't really want to know where she kept them. Combined with the fact that she constantly shifted her layout just for fun made grasping the full complexities of her wooden form nigh impossible at best. He was being strung completely by the seat of his non-existent pants through a creature that seemed to enjoy teasing and taunting him more than any other crewmate; although that could be largely because he always gave the most entertaining reactions.

His yelps echoed all throughout the ship's workings before he finally hit wood. The boards snapped immediately, and he flew up through the air over the deck, before being caught by another bony hand that seemed to grow out of the ropes hanging off the center mast. The rope snapped taut and pulled him and the hand up through the air, wind racing past him and plastering the ends of his lips below his eyes as he was whipped up, finally coming to a stop as he was casually dropped onto the Crow's Nest, high above Mimidae's other riders. Feed gripped onto the flag flying above them, eyes widening as he took deep breaths.

The ghost of some song drifted by his ears, sung from some out of sight mouth grown out of the wood below him.

"But I got stop wishing, got to go fishing, down to rock bottom again, Just a few friends..."

"Mimi... You have got to stop doing that." Feed panted, electing to look up at the sky to ease his vertigo.

"Maybe stop screaming, and I might. No fun in playing with someone who's used to it."

"Surely you'll run out of people who are used to it eventually."

"By the time that day comes, I'll have a new crew! I've been doing this gig for years! Just mysteriously show up in a dock one day, outfitted with whatever new technologies you land dwellers have cooked up in the years since my last crew, and wait for the newbies to drool all over me! Suddenly, bing bang boom, yet another easy stream of food. I'm the ultimate master of fate; If I don't like what we're doing, where we're going, or just feel like I've been running the same routine for too long, I just eat the crew and start over again. That's been life since back before the steam engine."

She laughed, and the mast suddenly creaked and thrust down at an angle, tossing him off with a yelp. At the same time, their largest sail sprung up at the same angle, catching him beneath it and sliding him down to the bow. He stumbled up to catch his balance as the bow rotated 180 degrees, and the hippocampus figurehead on the front tore itself off of where it was nailed, kicking onto her back and sliding down to where the ship converged into a single wooden pole sticking out over the sea.

"You weren't wrong when you said I liked you, but... That eating flesh thing is seriously unnerving."

"Makes you feel any better, I'm sure I could spare you. Just maroon you on Rumrunner's and hit the road. Besides, it's not like I haven't eaten you before. Just left the chewing out."

"I remember. It was less than pleasant." Bird grimaced, turning around and leaning against the railing.

Mimidae joined him, copying his position exactly. "I know I talk a big game, but I really do appreciate you constantly coming to see me. Nobody else ever wants to."

"Could be the fact that you turn into giant sentient tongues when they do."

"Hey, that was just a you thing! And for your information, I do enjoy creeping people out, but... Part of the reason I restrict myself to the brig when it's not just you is that, well, they're always creeped out. Just of me, regardless of what form I take." She sighed, tilting her head back to look up at the sky. Her neck tore open as she did, not having any joints or mobility.

"Well... I'm always here if you need to talk." He smiled at her, trying to look above the splintered wood.

Her neck reformed and just as quickly twisted out of shape as she turned to grin at him, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. "I appreciate that."

"Thanks. I would appreciate you a lot more if your lips weren't made of wood as you did that."

"I figured the tongue form would be worse."

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it. It's disgusting. I love it.

5E (OC; Comedy, Slice of Life)

Good morning, world!

5e's eyes lit up, whirring open her eyelids like blinds. The action was mostly for show- She couldn't see through the lenses on her eyes, but they gave her the endearing look expected of all 5e vacuums of her caliber and model.

Without eyes to see through, invisible senses sprung to life, reminding her of the docking port she sat in. Blobs of infrared, information acquired over months of wandering rooms, becoming smarter and smarter, lit up inside her mind, and she confidently strutted- WALL

Despite her learning, she still wasn't very intelligent. She jumped out of her dock too enthusiastically, colliding with a diagonal wall passing in front of where she slept. Her bumpers and sensors gave her just enough time to be made aware of the wall before she slammed into it headfirst, rolling onto her back in a daze. A tri-pronged brush on her belly whirred helplessly, and a rolling grey tube spun in conjunction with it, aimlessly performing its one function of pushing non-existent dust into a suction area hidden in the spot of floof on her belly as her legs kicked out at air.

Her bumpers sent another jolt of information, calming her slightly as she recognized a warm human hand gently rolling her back over. She wagged her tail in gratitude before continuing her task, dropping her chin on the ground and pushing forward with her hindlegs, pulling dust into the fur beneath her as she scooched along the ground. It wasn't very efficient, but it did look cute as all hell.

5e blindly but confidently scooched along, guided by an internal map and the bumpers and sensors covering her metal body. Touch was the only sense available to her, and the only thing letting her explore the world given to her. On slow days, or when she was confidently away from her owner ('Away from' equaling 'Outside of the few inches her infrared sensors could detect items within'), she could often be found rubbing up against table or couch legs like a cat, adding blotches of data allowing her to optimize herself and avoid obstacles in the future, becoming the epitome of artificial intelligence. It was also just fun to set off her own bumpers.

As she patrolled the house, she forced herself to remain alert and wary, within the limitations she was given. Another intelligent mind wandered, after all- a hunter, primed and deadly, ready- WALL

LED lights above the CLEAN button situated on her forehead lit up red angrily, staggering backward and scrunching her nose, metal plates on her muzzle folding back under the rest of the head mold.

Emotion engine | --anxiety ++miffed

There was no reason for the miffed setting to exist, other than to make her muzzle scrunch. Little details mattered to buyers when in the market of grade A cutie pie.

The lights quickly returned to the green they had been, as she nervously bobbed through the house like a drunken human, with just enough awareness of the threat watching her to keep her constantly on her hooves, never staying in a straight line for long. This was not the most efficient way of vacuuming, but she wasn't aware of that.

Her bumpers repeatedly flicked on, jolting her digital brain as she scooched along, trying to busy herself by flipping her brush on and off, pushing dust into the cavity on her belly and the bag inside.

Emotion engine | ++anxiety

Without warning, she felt it slam into her, always shifting, always moving, evading her sensors indefinitely. It only brought her fear, annoyance, rerouting. It sprung out of nowhere, setting of all of her sensors- it had even appeared on top of her before, knocking her off balance, mildly inconveniencing her- how she detested it, and yet her folly brought her directly into its path. Truly this was the end for her.

Her owner picked her up and turned her around.

Emotion engine | --dread ++love

Her luck! The Forgiving Hand had saved her yet again, adeptly taking to the skies with her in tow, swooping through the clouds far from the danger her mortal enemy had brought her! She owed it her life, and would follow it to the ends of the earth.

Her owner took a seat on the couch, holding the trembling robot on his lap and patting its back gently with a series of soft clonks. He had to remember to stop stepping in front of her. She did this every time she ran into his foot.

5e's LEDs turned a relaxed pink as she stopped vibrating, emitting an affectionate catlike purr from her internal fans as they kicked on. Another job well done, she thought as her owner lifted a tube-shaped plate off her back with a click, removing the bag contained in the hollow cavity inside. She was a dutiful pony, and deserved only the kindest pats.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

The Dragon (Spike, OC; Comedy, Slice of Life)

Don't get out much, huh? First time out of your cave?"

Spike mused, biting into a faded gem he had dug up and carefully watched his companion.

They might have been male or female, he wasn't sure. Sure wasn't about to check. Their coat was a stained blue, marred closer to grey from years of dirt and dust and detritus and who knew what else. Their mane and tail were once a shimmering gold, although it didn't seem to have lasted long. Their herbivorous teeth, occasionally visible through their lips as they ate, had been forcibly hardened and sharpened, ground on rocks and gems and, he grimaced as he imagined, bones and skin. Their wings were tattered and torn at the moment, lying limply at their side, but powerful muscles still jutted out beneath the iron skin.

What sat beside him, docile as a cat, was very clearly a feral dragon in the skin of a pegasus.

They only growled in response.

"Can't speak? Your parents really were feral. Where you from?"

He considered pulling his map out of his knapsack, waiting for him to point, but decided against it. The pegasus hummed contently, swallowing down the emerald they were given.

It was a little concerning how rarer gems were getting out here. Back home, he could dig a foot down with his claws and easily find a few smaller ones. Out here, he'd be lucky if he found one five feet down. Spelunking meant the possibility of running into another feral, and the only other alternative that wasn't rocks out here was meat. He was beginning to realize his ancestral home was a third world country.

He wondered how far he had wandered, trying to get back to roots. He vaguely remembered a book Twilight had made him read when he was a little younger, and how particular note had been made of the step that took the characters the farthest from home they had ever been. He wasn't much a counter of steps, but he imagined he had crossed that line a few days ago.

"Guess you can't explain your story, either." He added, turning back to his companion. "I somehow doubt you were hatched for a school exam."

The pegasus growled again as he absentmindedly reached out to scratch their neck, nearly forgetting that they were far more intelligent than they seemed.

"Sorry." He retracted quickly, and they relaxed.

He had come across his companion about a week after leaving, an hour before having lunch with them, digging around for gems in the ash that ran deep in certain parts of the badlands. He had offered a few of his remaining stash, and nearly instantly won them over. Odd, considering how territorial the ferals out here tended to be.

"Yep, that's pretty much my story. Egg wasn't even supposed to be hatched, but one little girl was magically strong enough to do it. Didn't have much else to do with me, so they left me to her family." As he talked, he scrounged around in his knapsack, pulling out a compass. The last dragon migration he spotted had been due north.

"So lemme guess; Looking for your parents?"

They nodded, watching him intently.

"Dragon or pony?"

He held out a palm with each choice. The pegasus nervously tapped a hoof into his first gesture.

"Looks like we're bros!" Spike chipperly concluded, gripping and shaking their foreleg. They looked hesitant, but nodded nonetheless.

"So, want to travel with me? I'm looking for some dragons myself. Same goal, same path- Surely we can knock some quid pro quo."

The pegasus's eyes lit up, nodding eagerly. A cavitied tooth jutted out from his lip, sharply bent and dented.

"Alright! Come on, little dude! I know this can't be all there is out here." He gestured out to the ash and rock around them, before looking up to the mountains out in the distance. one was rounded at the base, before jutting up sharply in a smaller pillar. It looked almost like a giant thumbs up.

His companion nodded, growling confidently. They pulled themselves to their hooves shakily, before standing tall beside him. He experienced brief dissociation as he realized his companion was taller than him, but quickly recovered.

"Alright! No reason returning to roots can't be done without a friend. And as far as I'm concerned, you're a dragon." He winked, shooting a finger gun at them.

"But first things first, you're gonna need a name."

Their smile wavered, and they took on a more serious, professional face as they pawed in the dirt, tracing. Spike's smile grew as the symbols began to come together, forming a name the pegasus was proud of.

Not that he could know. The symbols were complete gibberish.

"Well, good enough. We can make do as we go along."

Author's Note

The prompt that inspired it: Spike encounters a pony who was raised by dragons. (Casketbase77)

Mystery Inc. (Mane 6 Parents; Slice of Life, Adventure)

"All day detention begins now. You are to remain in your seats until the final bell rings, at which point you are dismissed. Please respond when your name is called. Miss Whistles?"

"Here!" A teal skinned girl with jagged streaks of orange hair running off her head like flowing water onto the shoulders of her sweater enthusiastically raised a hand.

"Miss Quartz?"

"Present." A girl in a dismal grey one piece with even dismaller hair that refused to stray past her forehead and golden spectacles raised her arm straight up.

"Miss Butter?"

"Present." A down home maternal voice tinkled back with a twinge of accent, belonging to an unkempt peach skinned girl with a flower in her hair and dirt on her cheeks politely raised a hand.

"Miss Shy?"

"Here, sir." A redhead honeycomb haired girl in a modest green button up responded without raising a hand.

"Miss Velvet?"

"Here! Err, sir!" A velvet hime cut adorned the pale skin of a girl in a school uniform as she raised her hand ramrod straight.

"Miss Bouffant?"

"Hmm? Oh, here!" A purple haircut wearing a woman half its size, richly dressed in multicolored fabrics raised her hand.

The superintendant of Canterlot High looked them all over carefully, monitoring their faces and automatically making assumptions about all of them at first glance. This is natural of course, but for story purposes that detail has been placed here to inform the reader that he is, in fact, an asshole.

"I have more important matters to attend to. I shall leave you to your detention. Miss Velvet, please keep them in line."

Twilight nodded affirmatively. She still had no idea why she was always seen as the mature one.

He shot one more snide look at the group before leaving. They stayed perfectly still until they could hear his footsteps fade, at which point the teal one immediately turned in her seat to face the rest.

"Alright Scooby Gang, listen closely. I'm sorry for forcing us all to meet here, but in case it wasn't obvious the teachers here are making us stray further and further apart to keep us in line."

The other girls turned to face her, some enthusiastically, some politely, and some obediently.

"Let me guess, More magic?" Shy asked, seemingly already tired.

"It always is, yellow one. It's about the phylactery we found; It's been stolen, and I have a feeling I know what happened to it."

The others instantly perked up. Their routine for the past two years had been the same; Find magical object or creature around school, secure and contain it, and then wait until the portal reopened so they could chuck it back. They had calendars set to its annual reopening and closing for this very mission, and had bonded all those moons ago over being the only humans in school who knew what was really going on. The past few months, they had collected amulets, swords, trinkets, seeds, masks, a family of baby Jackalopes, and a fully grown Manticore that currently resided at Shy's house. However, one item had intrigued them the most- A shard of red crystal locked inside a glass jar none of them could break, discovered just last night.

They hadn't a clue what it was (Although elected to call it a phylactery, due to their discussion of it happening over a game of D&D) but all unanimously agreed it was important. After that night's discussion, they had elected to keep it secure at Pear Butter's family barn- an old rickety place with tons of nooks and crannies, and enough items stuffed into it they could lose it for years- after a night staying at Twilight's, reasoning Pear would likely be stopped at the door by her father when she went in, having already stayed up late at Twilight's to discuss it.

Unfortunately, that did not happen. Because on the way over to Pear's class that morning, jar tucked under her jacket...

"I was pulled aside by the Vice Principal, who wanted to know what I was doing out of class. They took my phylactery up to check it for... Drugs, I guess? She didn't exactly make it clear. What matters is it's in her office. Cloudy, how often does Mr. Suckoff check back up on us?"

"Every hour and a half." Cloudy replied succinctly, having been in detention enough times to average her timing - Not by her own volition. It was always for these meetings, and she never got in trouble outside of them.

"Perfect. If we sneak out now, we can make it back here before he returns. We all know where her office is?"

Nods from all around.

"Sounds very." Shy politely replied, not looking very very at all.

"Good. Let's go girls!" She smiled widely at all of them. The rest scrambled out of their seats, already headed for the door. Not a single one bothered to question her. They knew she couldn't be reasoned with once she had an idea in her head.

Outside, Betty checked the hallway, before nodding the group out. The footsteps had gone left out the door. The Vice Principal's office was just above them. All they had to do was find the staircase, and pray she was elsewhere.

Vice Principal Luna was the youngest vice principal in a long time, voted into position by her own sister. Said sister was frequently joked behind her back about being immortal due to the babyface she had kept in all her years of teaching, and Luna wasn't spared, if anything she was torn into more. However, this was less because people simply thought she was funny at times, and more because she had an ass tight enough to grind coal and snort diamonds out of. She was always finding something to call you out on, and was always cranky about something. This did not make her nightly classes very popular, and made the sound of her heels clicking along the halls even less so. All sensible mortals feared the sound.

As the group hurried through the halls, only occasionally passing a student who always knew better than to question them when together, they constantly bickered back and forth in the way only teenagers can.

"She'd be in the gym with PE, right?" Twilight Velvet asked, racking her memory.

"She doesn't do that anymore. The coach asked her to stop." Cloudy droned back.

"We should really keep our voices down, girls!" Shy persisted, looking sheepishly at a passing student.

"Calm, Shy. We got this." Windy whispered.

The voices lowered to murmuring as they approached the office, looking back and forth at each other to see who would take a peek. Rolling her eyes, Pear took charge, picking Cloudy's glasses off her nose and holding them at an angle in front of her. A pale blue moving blob reflected in the lens, sitting just inside the room. More glances were shared, until Betty passed several dollars to Shy from her dress pocket. She sighed heavily, but took them anyway.

"Principal Luna?"

"Yes, Miss- Miss Shy? You're supposed to be in detention right now." Her face solidified and she stood up from her chair, putting down the papers she was holding.

"I know ma'am, and I'm sorry, but there's a stray cat on the grounds. You're the smartest adult I know in this school, and I'm not very good with animals, so I figured I'd come to you! Please, I saw it just outside the classroom window!"

As she spoke, nearly losing a few genuine tears with the force of her created sorrows, She crossed the room to stand behind the desk, in case her friends decided to be stupid enough to crawl in. Luckily, they didn't- They hid in a classroom adjacent to Luna's, holding the door a crack open and watching through the windows as the two continued to debate, until Shy led Luna off quickly.

The door creaked open as the remaining five made the leap between classrooms, immediately shutting and locking the door.

The room was meticulously cleaned, with two filing desks on each of the back corners, on each side of a square window, behind a perfectly rectangular wooden desk in front of a leather chair. A fan and computer sat on the table.

Nothing else was in the room.

The room didn't remain tidy for long as the girls began to ransack it, scanning all of the desks and filing folder until Betty trilled triumphantly, holding up a basket in the top desk drawer. The plastic basket held a multitude of Walkmans, cigarettes, suckers, and a single jar with a glowing red crystal inside.

"You think I could borrow this as a prop? I'm filming a super 8 short film about zombies." Windy asked Velvet quietly as she gingerly lifted.

"Probably not. This thing gives me a bad vibe. Besides, I think the portal opens tonight. We need-"

"Today."

"Hmm?" Windy turned to Cloudy, eyes already widening.

"It opens today. It doesn't always open at night. It's been opening about an hour earlier every cycle." She informed dryly.

Windy thought for a moment, looking out the window at the horse statue situated on the front of a clean cut field in front of school.

"Even better. How much time is left before the teach returns?"

"59 minutes."

"We're getting rid of this today. Right now. We cannot afford to hold onto this. It's time to make it somebody else's problem."

Twilight took it back, tucking it under her jacket, and facing towards the door.

Just as the knob began to jiggle, and keys clinked outside.

"Fuck me gently with a chainsaw..." Betty whispered.

It slammed open, and Luna reentered... with a panicked looking Shy clutched to her waist.

"She just turned back! She's not talking, I don't know what's going on!" She cried, trying desperately to hook her shoes onto the floor. Luna lifted her hand, pointing to the phylactery. Her eyes briefly glowed a lime green, tinted with the same red as the crystal.

"Return the crystal."

"Sorry ma'am, but I'm pretty sure something magical's going on. Grab it Shy!"

She chucked the jar at the floor, not worrying if it broke. It bounced across the hall, rolling into the wall opposite them. Shy yelped, pushing Luna into the doorframe before she could react and running for it. The other girls poured out of the classroom like angry hornets, vaulting over the desk and flooding around it, shoving Luna further to the side. Breaking into a run away from Shy, Velvet took the head, cupping her hands in the air and inviting Shy to chuck it like a football, which she quickly did, immediately drawing Luna's warpath away from her.

As she chased them through the halls, her movements remained robotic and symmetrical, and her face never moved a muscle. Her arms remained by her side, and only her legs seemed to work at all to carry her forwards, as if she had been turned off above the waist.

Velvet passed it to Pear, the fastest runner, and Cloudy Quartz stopped herself to wheel on Luna as soon as she did, correctly predicting she wouldn't stop to fight her. She was right, and Luna plowed into her, collapsing onto her face as Cloudy held her with the grip of an alligator, letting the others get away.

Pear bodyslammed open the front doors of the school, breathlessly calling to the others "Hold the doors shut!" The statue was only a few yards away. If Cloudy Quartz was right, they'd just have to toss it through. Possessions from magical objects couldn't hold across dimensions, she knew from experience. It would be over in seconds.

A screech called out from inside the school, and black smoke shot out from under the door at lightning fast speed, collecting into a wall in front of Pear. She skidded to a stop, hugging the jar close and wishing she had her bat as the smoke began to solidify.

A black armoured knight began to form in front of her, helmet adorned with a ruby red horn that stuck out menacingly, glowing like a stovetop burner. His face was shrouded in darkness, but green eyes with red irises and purple smoke pouring out of them opened in the void, glaring her down. From somewhere in the suit of armour, which she wasn't even sure was being worn by a physical human, a deep commanding voice spoke bluntly.

"Return the crystal. If you hesitate or resist any longer, I will kill you."

More smoke manifested out of his hand, solidifying into a dull blade twice his size that was pointed at the bridge of her nose in seconds.

The doors fell open as the girls let go, watching Pear in shock. Luna's unconscious body fell onto the front steps as they did.

"Is she.." Shy whispered, catching her breath.

"I don't think so. But we have to do something, quickly." Betty insists, looking around the yard and parking lot. Cars had stopped pooling into the parking lot. A few buses were still on, their drivers gone.

"You don't belong in this world. Who are you?" Pear demanded, drawing herself up. Despite her courage, it was plainly clear that talking was her only plan. Still, the knight seemed willing to humor her.

"King Sombra, rightful ruler of the Crystal Kingdom, spawn, herald, and harbinger of the Umbra Race. Who are you?"

"Pear Butter. Uhh... Heir to the Pear Family, and... Protector of Earth from all hostile magical forces. I will not let you take another step."

She raised her fists, as if they could do anything. A deep, poisonous chuckle seemed to emanate from the helmet.

"I respect your will, child. But there is nothing you can do. Nothing but death lies ahead for your people. I will snuff out every light, until-"

poor old johnny ray...

Sombra lifted his head curiously at the sound of a distant radio becoming louder and louder.

And a bus slammed into him.

"Go, go! Chuck it into the portal!" Windy screamed, backing the bus up to uncover the bare base of the statue.

Sombra bellowed as Pear reared her arm, and before she could release he grabbed it, lifting the sword. Pear pulled herself towards him and crouched down, barely avoiding the blade as it came down, and pulled his arm between his legs as she ducked through them. The armour didn't seem to allow him much mobility, and he quickly let go, only to whirl around and swing at her back. Pear leapt forward into the portal, clutching the phylactery close to her and shutting her eyes tight.

Never go into the portal. That had been their creed since day one. Any dimension or plane that created monsters and evils as awful as they fought weekly could only be a hell world of brimstone and fire and horrors unimaginable to man. Never, ever, ever go into the portal - or risk leaving yourself behind when you return, not returning at all, or worse, taking something back with you.

Which is why she found it strange to be in a musty basement, above which light trickled through a trapdoor. Stranger still, she was a horse.

She looked down at herself oddly, shaking her limbs out and getting used to the new limbs... Before suddenly remembering her friends were in danger. She quickly set the phylactery on a wooden crate beside her, turning back to the stat- Mirror. It was a mirror now, reflecting her new muzzle and ears back at her.

Shaking her head, she jumped back through. She could return to investigate later.

Sombra was gone, the last wisps of smoke trickling back through the portal. Pear took a breath, checking her friends. All of them seemed okay, just exhausted.

"What a megabitch..." Betty muttered.

"Thanks for that bus move, Windy. It was fetch." Pear complimented.

"Don't mention it. But we need to get back inside. I don't imagine we have much time."

"Forty minutes, actually." Cloudy affirmed.

"It's only been forty minutes? Huh. Who wants to go grab milkshakes?"

"What about Luna?" Pear added.

"She'll be fine. I doubt this'll have any long lasting affects on her, or her relation with her sister." She replied optimistically.

The others affirmed, pulling themselves off the ground and heading to the parking lot, stepping over the black streaks the bus had made in the grass. Pear took another look back at the statue, and bit her lip before following.

Author's Note

The prompt that inspired it: It turns out that magic has seeped into the Equestria Girls world before, back when the Human 6’s parents were teenagers. (Nitro_Indigo)

Aeolia (OC; Slice of Life, Comedy)

Aeolia watched the net drift above the seafloor from her hideaway in a razor sharp reef, contemplating her choices as she watched it slide over the reef and above her, tearing multiple few holes into it as it did.

On one hand, she could stay where she was. The net would be easily shredded to pieces before it could finish crossing the reef. It wasn't built for a creature of her size; It would likely be cramped and uncomfortable inside it. Hell, if she really felt like it, she could swim to the surface in twice the time it would take to be dragged out.

On the other hand, the net had been tossed over her hideaway for a reason, and she'd hate to be rude. Plus, she might get a snack of the particularly stupid fish who hadn't escaped through the massive holes.

Yeah, those sounded like the only reasons she'd get caught. Couldn't think of any ulterior motives.

She pulled her tail back and slammed it into the sand, springing up just before the net passed over her. As soon as the fishers on the other hand noticed the new weight, the other end came up, and she tucked herself in, waiting through the ride patiently.

"I swear, if you make the 'quite a catch' joke again, I will actually eat you alive."

Wave bit back his lip and his words as Aeolia stuck her tail out through one of the torn holes, letting it dangle and drip-dry into the ocean.

"I think you need to understand that this isn't a power play, hun. You use the shittiest nets I've seen in my life. You aren't the valiant fisher who battles back the wind and sea to vanquish the alluring siren, you're the fisher who drove his boat into Cthulhu's head while panicking and trying to get away and just so happened to stun him for long enough to escape and die in your sleep a few days later."

"And yet, I still caught said siren" Wave popped back into his gusto like a selkie falling into their skin, grinning like a CalArts character and waggling his eyebrows in a manner akin to what most people assume to be his namesake.

(He had told Aeolia before that his name was short for 'Lots Of Wavy Hair Like Liberace', and she would've called bullshit if she wasn't well aware of how asinine pony names were.)

"Every tourist pronounces one foreign word right. How many schools of bass did you flirt with before you ended up catching me?" Aeolia questioned, opening her jaw to show off the last remaining bass she had managed to crunch down on.

"That matters not! What matters is that, irregardless of methods, the fisher has caught the alluring siren!"

She looked down at herself. She had put on weight, as was incredibly obvious. She considered retorting snappily, but even she had an ounce of gratitude occasionally.

It was kind of cute.

"Well, 'alluring siren', is better than 'foul beast', I suppose. And infinitely more so than 'my lady', which I am eternally grateful to you for leaving in the past." She commented, swallowing down her measly snack.

"Well then, maybe you can repay my generosity." He said, not saying (:,' out loud but still implying it with the power of his tone.

She raised an eyebrow. "You can't expect a very impressive kiss from a creature that eats fish her entire life. You didn't forget that, right? That you're infatuated by a siren twice your size?"

"I was thinking more of a number."

"I think I ate one of those once."

"For a phone."

"You're right, let me dive back under and grab my shellphone that fries every fish in a two league radius every time I turn it on."

Wave blinked in genuine surprise, rubbing the back of his head.

"Ooh, right, didn't think of that. Well, there's a ferry passing through here to get to Manehattan in a day. Can I at least grab dinner with you?"

"I prefer to pick food off the beach during their nightly strolls. Too many witnesses on a boat."

Wave never lost his swagger as they went on, shooting back and forth in the same manner for what felt like hours. He must've pronounced several full sentences correctly through the infinite monkey method alone, for by the time the sun started to lower he had gained a few genuine snorts and stifled laughs from her.

Eventually, Aeolia rolled her eyebrows, wondering idly how much longer she could keep talking before the net snapped around her and dropped her into the sea.

"Alright, I'm curious, and can never turn down free food. Can't promise the other ferry-goers will react very well to a giant siren launching herself out of the water to have dinner, though."

"I suppose we'll just have to anemosea."

She choked on a previous meal, coughing a few fish into the empty bins lining the ship's rails before continuing.

"Celestia, clearly I suppose I won't need to worry. Nobody else would get on a ship with you, Feferi."

"If I have you, that's all I'll care about."

She bit her lip, throwing her head back in a groan to mask it.

"Easy on the schmutz. Clearly I don't know what I've gotten myself into. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

To save face one last time, she dramatically cast her tail in a circle below her, slicing apart the net and falling back into the waves. It took no effort at all.

But she did feel a little bad.

Just before she dived back under, she called out a note from the blue to make sure his spirits didn't fall.

Wouldn't want him getting discouraged.

Author's Note

The picture that inspired it

Prove It On Me Blues (Vinyl Scratch, Octavia; AU, Slice of Life)

"You've got to try it, Bearcat. One night, one night only, one hour."

"Just fetch me a playing from the store when you return."

"You know I can't do that, hayburner. If you hear it, you'll understand; vinyl can't do it justice, and Vinyl can't do it justice."

Octavia tightened her eyes shut, but opened them quickly. Displays of vex shan't become a priority over the machine that whirred a displeasure greater than a clucked tongue could warrant. The fabric moved under her hooves, sliding and feeling it all over as it was assembled from the silk chiffon that was fed into her Singer, creating beauty ex nihlo. And here was Vinyl, the most flapper of flappers, demanding she leave to pet and giggle with her. Even now she was dressed for an arrangement Octavia hadn't agreed to, in a scandalously knee-high scarlet dress and hair that barely surpassed her cheek, with a pair of spectacles perched on her muzzle.

"Awful shame, dear, I'm afraid I simply cannot join you uptown to-night." Octavia spoke without looking at her.

"Ironic for an upstage like yourself. I'm not asking for a manacle, just for you to come and have a listen with me. Mamie Smith's performing tonight, and she's no Gibson Girl; a real Jazz musician. One listen, and you won't be able to ignore it; history is happening all around us, and one of us is sitting inside during it."

"I'm sure I'll catch the next historical event."

"I'm sure the next world shaking event will be courteous enough to let you sew, more than you ever have in your life, so we've got to catch this one! No panther piss, just a rub and a bite."

Octavia sighed, wishing she had caught the draft as a teenager. "If I attend one speakeasy, will you let me formulate my own opinion on it and not bother me?"

"Blind pig, and I swear on my word."

"Speakeasy, and your word is nothing. Swear it on your Armstrong." She nodded at a shelf of vinyl sleeves, a Louis Armstrong recording closest to both of them.

"Blind pig, and I swear it on Armstrong and Morton."

"It literally will not matter in ten years, and fine. I'll entertain you."

Smoke wafted through the air, lazily drifting over the two as they sat at a wooden furnished bar, vaguely phallic taps big as monoliths churning away with each customer. Talk and clamor filled the air, and Octavia desperately wished she had her music sheets with her; something to focus on in this din. As if it weren't enough, clearly Vinyl had been lying about the panther piss; three shots already.

At least, she was fairly certain Panther Piss was alcohol. Maybe that was the rub? She hoped the rub wasn't what she thought it was.

Whatever. She was leaving, she didn't care what made up words Vinyl called her. Kringlefucker?

"Come on, Mrs. Grundy, loosen up."

Or that.

"This is quite the performance, dear. Thank you very much for inviting me, but I think I'd prefer ears that can carry me another twelve years."

"No, wait, we haven't started yet! A few more minutes, and she'll be onstage."

"Vinyl, I'd really like to- Oh."

A trumpet sounded from behind her. She didn't turn around, or even move, but simply closed her eyes. The din was beginning to die, and if she couldn't get anything else out of this night, at the very damn least she was going to get what she came for out of it.

Her voice was unlike anything Octavia had ever heard. Deep and powerful, soulful and elderly, yet youthful at the same time. And what she spoke of...

Ah. It became increasingly clear that she was singing about being bi, and how nobody could prove it. Not what she would have chosen for a topic, but to each their own.

Nonetheless, she took note of the everpresent tune. It was a slow and sad one, yet punctuated with chipper beats to never keep it from falling into a drab. It held hope in a way she had never heard in music before, and during one chorus, she was surprised to find it completely replaced by well timed... kazoo toots? Fortunately, even this was quickly accentuated by the return of the piano and tuba, both falling into a harmony; an awkward one at times, but by the time they began to treat the kazoo as an extension of the trumpet, rather then the leader, it began to flow again.

Dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum. The piano kept a monotony, not meant to hold and carry, but to compliment.

Doot-dooo. The trumpet became bound to her words by the end, a toot with each one at the final chorus, and she forced herself to return back to the words, listening to the emotion in the final words.

Don't have to prove it on me.

The song ended, and moved on to another. By this point she was completely enraptured; this was something entirely different from the classics she had studied, clearly derived from a different part of the world entirely. She rarely listened to the trumpet, but was aware of the emotions it could carry; in this one, it was much more prominent, front and center, just a layer beneath the lyrics.

She couldn't hear a piano anymore, even with her trained ears; just the trumpets, and her voice of course, directing each, and she suddenly realized how it led them no differently than a conductor; the music rose and fell to her beck and call, their veer offs calculated and timed, their follows loyal as dogs.

There was nothing like it.

It was nirvana.

Octavia never stopped thinking. Her soul was detached, in a world where the music was all it focused on, directing her thought just as it directed the instruments. Notes leapt from her mind, and brimmed angrily, demanding to be penned.

History was happening all around her.

She drifted for what felt like an eternity.

Author's Note

The picture that inspired it

Them! There! Those! (CMC; Horror, Comedy)

The tension in the room could be sliced in half.

Six children sat on the wooden floor of a treehouse, divided into two lines, the first carefully inspecting the second while the second smiled and patiently waited. Both lines consisted of doppelgangers of the other; eyes, hair, tails, fur. The only noticeable difference was in the latter line; moonlight pouring in through the window bounced and refracted inside them, shining through every panel of their geometrically crystallized transparent bodies. Their organs pulsed under the clear skin; it was a miracle they could see their solid counterparts at all, given the likelihood that the rods in their eyes were crystal too.

The CMC shifted uneasily as they looked for a defect of any kind in their crystal counterparts with the same awkwardness they looked for a conversation starter in. All of them had questions they would love to ask their doppelgangers, but none they were comfortable asking in front of each other.

"So this is a magic thing, right? You girls are magic?" Scootaloo finally piped up, going for a question that actually mattered upon realizing she was the one most likely to care.

"It is not the magic you may think of, but in a way, yes." Crystal Apple Bloom's voice was hoarsly accented with a horse accent, answering for the three of them quietly and raspily.

The three transparent visitors had been noticed approaching by Sweetie Belle's boredly wandering gaze during an otherwise uninteresting nightly meeting hosted rebelliously past their bedtimes, happening to catch them out the window, all three standing dead still. As soon as they had caught the attention of all three, they closed the gap, climbing the rope ladder and performing the secret knock to be let in. Not a word was spoken, no expression was shown, and they had promptly been seated. Out of unsureness, the CMC had mirrored them.

"Y'all got a cold or something?" Apple Bloom asked at the first word of her visitor.

"I have not spoken in a long time. My vocal chords are wilted, poisoned. Rest assured, I speak for all of us- Worry not."

The CMC shifted nervously.

The Crystal CMC shifted emotionlessly.

The CMC tilted their heads curiously.

The Crystal CMC tilted their heads curiously.

The CMC were all ready to say "I'm stupid" at the same time when Crystal Bloom spoke again.

"You are, of course, vexed by your place in the universe at the sight of us. You wish to know from whence we came."

"Of course." Apple Bloom replied quickly, biting her tongue.

Crystal Bloom cleared her throat for a solid minute, trying to reach peak raspiness before continuing with a speech she was clearly excited to perform.

"There are many projects worked on in silence, in the darkness under the earth. We are one of them. We are Equestrians, and we wish to greet you as friends."

"I'm coming, I- The Great and Powerful Trixie is coming! Worry not! And... stop the banging."

Trixie whoozily rose from her hammock, stumbling over prop wands and hats, all tumbling and collapsing around her. Her entire wagon was shaking from the force of the knocker at her door. Her mind flashed through possibilities of who could be so rude, all of the wheels she span miraculously landing on Twilight's smug face.

She fumbled with the lock, accidentally pulling a length of ribbons out of it before finally unlocking it and stumbling outside.

"Please, consider a polite tap next time. Trixie does not often..."

She trailed off upon getting a good look at the knocker, hoof still banging at empty air with the force of an eighteen wheeler. Familiar purple eyes veiled by a transparent wisp of silver hair turned up to bore holes into Trixie.

"The idea was simple; clones of Equestrian citizens, bodies different, souls the same. Every movement reflected, every action controlled; as below, so above. The magic of the Crystal Heart was used for this end; the same magic that could turn a normal pony into a crystal reflection of themselves continued to do the same, only separated. But the body is easy to recreate; the soul is not."

Vinyl Scratch slid backwards onto the stage she had performed on hours ago. It was completely empty now, all of the club's patrons since left at a sudden and unexplained closing. She had stayed to pack her turntables, before getting a bit caught up.

She tried to stumble to her hooves, only for a lens of her shades to be shattered as another milky white hoof slammed into it with the strength of a diamond.

Vinyl Scratch stood over her, a ghostly reflection of the one on the floor. Something shone in the darkness above her as she lifted it.

"Without a soul, we were not the same. We were simply echoes, even our reflections imperfect and sporadic. They abandoned us when they saw they could not make us perfect, left us to rot miles underground. And yet we continued to think, to feel. We came to feel hatred; despisal of the other us, the Equestrians who bore free will. We came to want more, but we could not leave."

Gilda's gasp faded and drew out as she clutched at her throat, feeling her own sliced larynx. She stumbled back, spitting blood as she looked up in fear at the creature standing over her. Her feathers and fur were artificial, perfect yet unnatural. She wasn't Gilda; only a clay homonculus.

"Until now. The three of us took initiative, leading our brothers and sisters up out of the tunnels-"

"Wait, I thought y'all couldn't leave?"

"We could. The exit was actually in the middle of a circus, in the mouth of a giant plastic lion. We just hadn't looked far enough."

"That's... It?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"I don't think you understand how stupid half-souled creatures like the Crystalled are."

"Okay, ah'll take that, but.... What made you different?"

Crystal Bloom smiled.

"That is, in fact, why I have not killed you yet. I would like to thank you. Without your contribution, this would not have been possible."

"Us?" Apple Bloom's eyes widened, double taking.

"Yes, Us was made possible by you three. You see, you did something that we mirrored unconsciously; something so powerful, that it brought an enlightenment to the blind Crystalled. Something so religiously great, it made them choose us as their leaders in this new Equestiran movement."

"Something... Great?" Scootaloo breathed, wings beginning to buzz excitedly. "Something powerful? You mean... When we got our cutie marks?"

"What? No, no. It was the ballad you dubbed the Cutie Mark Crusader's Theme Song."

Scootaloo's face fell and wings slowed. "Oh."

"It was the most powerful piece of music the Crystalled had ever heard. It spurred them on, made them believe that they too could try their talents everywhere until their faces were blue."

"I'll be honest, we made that when we were like, ten? Eleven? We've kinda done bigger stuff since then..." Apple Bloom awkwardly confessed, scratching the back of her head.

"We've spent every year since then looking for the exit. That's still the only piece of music we've ever heard."

"Y'all didn't have Crystalled of... other musicians?"

"None of them were worth listening to."

"That's a bit... egotistical..." Sweetie confessed.

"It matters not! Our plan was finally ready to be put into play, and so we began our march."

Gilda came to a stop in a green field, claws caked in blood. Standing up on her hindlegs, she assumed a t-pose, patiently waiting for her brothers and sisters to arrive and join her. She stood vigil, preparing to wait for as long as she had to. As she did, she repeated the same sentence over and over again in her half-full brain.

*Don't accidentally rip their legs off with your claws like you did in rehearsals don't accidentally rip their legs off with your claws like you did in rehearsals don't accidentally rip their legs off with your claws like you did in rehearsals⁸

"We would rise up. We would kill our mirrors. And we would join hooves all over Equestria, as a sign to any that remained that we were the true Equestrian citizens, and we would not be caged any longer. And we would do it with these. Gaze upon your death, mirrors."

The three stood up. The CMC scooched back nervously as their clones drew weapons as one; three pairs of shining, gleaming, golden scissors, razor sharp an-

All three fumbled with them, dropping them to the wood floor. They awkwardly tried to pick them up by the tiny handles, but only succeeded in punching them into the ground with their hooves.

"Hold on, wait, we were doing such a good job of holding these..."

"Can't you just use magic?" Sweetie asked her doppelganger as she grimaced at the dropped blades.

"No she can't. Half souled, remember? Can't do magic. Celestia, just..."

"Why are you using scissors anyway?"

"The only weapon we had enough of. There's an Equestrian citizen- I mean, a mirror on the surface- who just keeps making scissors for some reason, and hasn't stopped at all in the last five years. We're seriously worried about him. Can you give us a hoof?"

"So Y'all can kill us? We're good."

"Look, we're just going to... leave. You know, we think the apocalypse might be happening? And we... want to go. Go check on our sisters. We'll see you around, okay?"

"NO! Don't let them get away! Hey, come back here! Pick up the scissors! Wait!"

The calls of their doppelgangers faded into the night as the CMC descended the rope ladder, leading them to continue to scrabble with their weapons.

The sun rose, and Gilda continued to patiently wait.

Any minute now, her brothers and sisters would arrive from their successful kills, and would join her in her circle.

Any minute now. After all, it wasn't like her talons made her specially abled to use the weapons they had all been equipped with.

The scissors were a fine choice. A perfect choice, really.

Any minute now, the circle would grow.

Any minute now.

Vinyl Scratch returned to the club the next morning to find her crystal clone still in the exact same place she had been last night. She was still poised over empty space as if Vinyl was still under her, still struggling with the scissors, and every five minutes or so getting a grip on them and stabbing down into the wood, looking confused, and repeating the cycle by trying to lift the scissors out of the floor.

Vinyl sipped her drink as she watched, and prepared to set up for her next gig at the week scheduled here.

Crystal Trixie struggled in her bindings, trying to run through the same attack motions she had been trained in, but the blindfold and the tight constraints made it hard to do more than squirm and grunt.

Her ears rung at words being shouted out from somewhere beside her.

"...And be amazed, as the Great and Powerful Trixie saws.... Herself in half!"

Author's Note

The picture that inspired it

SunSunSun (SunSun; SunSun)

"Okay, I know it's only been a week, but I'm taking time travel away from you. It's for your own good."

Sunset looked up from her cellphone lying on the table, unable to be picked up due to the weight brought on by the massive hunk of gem gorilla glued to the back to keep it running in a world without electricity or cell towers.

"What? Why would you do that?"

"You're petty with it. You use it for every inconvenience."

"No I don't, Twilight."

Sunset clicked on the next video, groaning at the unskippable ad played right before it, some kind of new magical weapon capable of immanentizing a very tiny eschaton in the brain of the target, separating them across three different planes instantly. Because it was an Equestrian ad, a royalty free nursery rhyme was chosen as the music for the commercial. "Hey, Twilight, when was pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake written?"

"1698, by the playwright Thomas D'Urfey for his play The Campaigners. Why do you ask?"

Sunset disappeared in a flash of light, returning a second later covered in blood.

"No reason." She replied, turning back to her video.

"Okay, first of all, that's taken out of context, second of all, never project words into my mind again, and thirdly, why did you narrate that in third person?"

"If you think I won't use my magic to induce forced flashbacks, you don't know me very well. And I'm sorry, I know you spent a long time learning that spell, but enough is enough."

"How do you even remember that?" Sunset protested as Twilight cautiously approached, whipping a blanket off the alicorn's bed with her hooves as defense.
"Come on, I need a special power while I'm in Equestria so I'm not just a recolor of you. You have psychic abilities that could tear open reality if you wanted to, and I haven't trained my horn in years! I can barely do a levitation spell! I'm rusty!"

"I'll be happy to teach you, just hold still!"

"But time travel is the only solace I can take that not every moment is nothing more than that, a moment that will pass within the instant I'll never be able to return to! It's my escape from the persecution of reality!"

Twilight sighed, "Don't be ridiculous, it doesn't free you from time, only your perception of time, although you can't tell the difference. Now give me- A ha!"

Twilight finally launched the spell, tearing magic out through Sunset's momentarily glowing eyes. Sunset groaned, falling backwards dramatically.

"Fine, you know what? Keep your stupid time travel, I'm going to find something else that can separate me from you. Like a brick wall."

Twilight sighed, watching Sunset scooch off lazily on her belly. "I don't mind you learning magic, you just got to be conservational with it. Think like a cartoon character! Don't comprehend the full scope, just use it for childish things like pulling pr- Uh, like doing taxe- Uh, maybe I should join you!"

Her last calls went unheeded as Sunset kicked the door to the basement shut behind her.

A few minutes later, Twilight descended the basement steps, reasoning that Sunset's postmaturely blossomed teenage angst would have soothed by now.

"Sunset! Sunset? Are you in here?"

Two identical voices replied from the darkness, a meek "Yes...?" and a steadfast "No."

Twilight paused, memories of mirror pools curbstomping her scientific interest. Actually, if she had a dime for every time there was more than one Pinkie in her world, she would have exactly forty-five cents, adjusted for monarch tax.

"I'm coming in, and if there's more than one Sunset, I'll be two seconds away from shooting! Unless you're doing something embarrassing, in which case I'll leave you be because you shouldn't be afraid to explore your sexuality, but still!"

Silence. Twilight fluttered down gently down through the middle of their imposing spiral staircase, landing in the center.

There were indeed two Sunsets, and one was strapped down to a table.

"Okay, a promise is a promise..." Twilight muttered.

"No wait, I can explain!" Non-tied Sunset shook her hooves, a gesture which didn't really translate well without hands.

"Do I want to hear...?"

"I found one of your spellbooks, and it advertised a magical manifestation of the folly of equine- which, like, is a complete cheat, because which folly? We contain multitudes, you can't just label some random flaw as the penultimate folly. Do you mean our fucked up lungs that bleed when we run too fast, or our brittle hooves, or our complete inability to recognize our own flaws, or what? So, I had to find out."

"Turns out the folly of Equine is just an evil version of themselves, which is such a cheat." Tied-down Sunset griped.

"So, I did what any reasonable and held-together adult who has spent years masquerading as a hormonally confused and anxious teenager would do, and tied her up for the good of mankind- of, uh, equinekind." Sunset finished, looking back to the other facet of her for confirmation of her thought process. Other Sunset nodded.

Twilight sighed. "Okay, I'll give you credit, I can't imagine that being a very easy spell to pull off-"

"It was, actually..."

"-and self-division spells are often really pretentiously described with words like 'Doppelgänger" and "Ex Nihlo" and "Roota", as Spike had to make me aware of, but that doesn't really excuse this. I spent the better part of three days hating you because you were the mean version of yourself, and now she's back?"

Sunset's head shrunk into her own neck.

"Ah... Not exactly. I assumed the same thing, but then... Hey, Un-Set, mind passing that book over there?"

"Fuck you, do it yourself." Un-Set replied as she levitated the book over to her.

Twilight stared in confusion as Sunset plucked the book from the air.

"Yeah... it wasn't exactly a clean cut."

Sunset explained. "She didn't just pick up my bad quirks; She tries really hard to be angry, but sometimes has an occasional outburst of politeness when things get stressful. She also took my knowledge of making pasta, my ability to rap the fast part of Fergalicious in one breath, and my tendency to sometimes sit by and say nothing while someone else exposits, which really sucks, except for the fact that I've never found myself talking this much."

"I'm sure some of us still wish you would." Un-Set remarked. "No possible idea who, though."

Twilight gaped. "This is a catastrophe!"

"I mean, I wouldn't go that far, but-"

"You lied to me! You can perform telekinesis."

Sunset froze, performing the coveted nose scrunch. "I-"

"You should never lie to your best friends, Sunset. And Un-Set. Lying is a gateway to distrust, and a true, true friend needs to always have trust-"

"Shut up, we get it, you're tight." Sunset silently thanked the heavens as Un-Set spoke up, thankful someone else could say what she was thinking. "I mean, you're right and a true friendship is the most beautiful treasure of all, but shut up. If you are quite done figuring out a solution to my very existence, I'd like to get up. I lost my memory of how to untie a Devil's Tongue that I got from boy scouts, so I'd really appreciate a refuse, or in a minute both of you will be indistinguishable from refuse. Ooh, that was a good one."

"Okay, okay, I think I can figure this out." Twilight breathed, pulling the book to her and pacing in a clean 360 degree circle. "First we'll need to venture to the outskirts of Equestria, which we should be able to cover in a few strung together teleports, climb the terrifying mountains of the frozen north, which have an elevator at the bottom, bargain with the gods for one of the dreaded Typhon's scales, which should be pretty easy because the only god up there around these times is Gaia and she'll be more than happy to part with some of the scales left in Typhon's bedroom in Tartarus from his molting years, then we'll have to find some dirt..."

As Twilight rambled on, Sunset and Un-Set shot a look at each other, suddenly beset with an idea. Both lit their horns at once, and they reperformed the Folly spell, tweaking subtle details each time.

Un-Set became a manifestation of Sunset's memories of where she left her credit cards, and Sunset was left with everything else.

Un-Set became a manifestation of Sunset's insecurities, but the ability to speak her first language was left to Sunset, forcing her to lament in Equestrian Sign Language until they tried again.

Un-Set took every memory Sunset ever had except hearing Caramelldansen for the first time on Earth, which bounced around Sunset's skull frantically.

Un-Set was reversed back to being a manifestation of Sunset's anger and dope rhymes. Sunset sighed.

"Got that?" Twilight finished. Both Sunsets snapped to awareness.

"Yeah, sounds perfect. You're the magical prodigy, you've got this." Sunset confessed.

Author's Note

The picture that inspired it

Cooking by The Book (Chrysalis, Starlight; Comedy/Slice of Life)

A book was slammed onto the kitchen's Island.

"Cooking!" Starlight dementedly and exasperatedly yelled.

Chrysalis glanced over it, still tired from being violently woken from her sleep by her roommate moments prior. Pictures of dishes were printed over the thick bindings, and she curiously shook it to see that it wasn't a secret book-shaped compartment designed to hide something.

"You think... cooking will help us get along better."

"Of course! Cooking is, it's... It's what binds our species, right? We both eat fo- No, we both... would appreciate each other's company." Starlight fell over herself explaining, awkwardly scratching the back of her head and avoiding contact with the taller changeling.

"What's the real reason for this?" Chrysalis muttered.

Starlight sighed, head ducking low. "I'm tired of you eating my love at night. I don't like waking up and hating everyone for no reason."

"I don't think that's me."

"Plus, it'll be fun!" Starlight tossed the cover aside, perusing the dirty pages inside. "And educational! And Twilight says we're two incidents from being handcuffed together!"

Chrysalis stuck out a forked tongue. "I don't think this was the best idea of hers, but I'm not a pony, so maybe it's completely normal for you to enslave two people who hate each other together in a castle so small they're forced to interact."

Starlight's muzzle was practically buried in it as she tried to avoid looking at Chrysalis. "Well, she's getting suspicious of all the plastic water bottles filled with red mist she keeps finding in my fridge, so let's just play along, shall we?"

"You know I eat those right? It's like drinking hot sauce."

"Meatloaf!" Starlight cut her off by shoving the book into her face, open to a page that seemed to contain samples of the meal stapled to it for proof of concept. "Two large eggs, let's start!"

Chrysalis gave a grin, small but containing so much unrestrained wickedness.

"Chicken eggs, Chicken eggs, get off the table."

"One and a half teaspoon of Italian season."

"What's a Talia?"

"I'm pretty sure it's one of the muses." Starlight answered without looking up from the bowl.

"Ah, so we're putting ambrosia into this meatloaf. Always a good sign. Should you be stirring yet?" Chrysalis asked as she finally hoofed over a tiny jar of brown flakings.

"This is the sauce we're gonna put on it; I need, just, bring over every powder you possibly can. Just to be sure." Starlight lowered the blanket of floating ingredients in the air above her, which Chrysalis plucked several bottles from. "Bring Ketchup, too."

"We're putting ketchup in a sauce?" Chrysalis blanched.

"Ketchup is a sauce. It's like putting ice cream in a cake."

"It's like putting a rib in a woman. Oh, right, I almost forgot you have bones." Chrysalis smiled gleefully, clearly very proud of herself for that one.

"That's such a weird thing to be superior about." Starlight muttered, squeezing the entire tube into the bowl. "Where's the whisk? No, not the whisk the... The, like, the thing you stir with... It's flat..."

Chrysalis opened her jaws, giving a hoarse cough to poke the barely visible edge of a wooden spoon up from the entrance of her throat.

Starlight glared, reaching in and retrieving it as quickly as she could, wiping it off of the changeling jelly on the edge of the island. "You need a hobby."

"I had a hobby, but then the government got involved." Chrysalis boredly reminded, wiping her lips.

"You're welcome to leave any time you want."

"I literally can't. Twilight's put enchantments over the castle to prevent me from leaving, remember?"

Starlight lit her horn with disinterest.

"Anti-Blink procedures deactivated. Changeling Throne maneframe disabled. Dome brought down. Scrying spells frozen to a still image of any room they try to see." She droned.

Chrysalis glared in cautious contempt. This was a test. She wanted to see her reaction. There was no way they couldn't bring her back.

She teleported away in a split second.

Starlight blinked, looking at the now empty space. "I'll be damned. She... actually left."

For a moment, she continued to stare at nothing, twinges of sadness biting her. They were just as quickly suppressed as Chrysalis zipped back in in a green burst of thaums.

She slid a jingling sack across the table. "This is for that bet I lost last week. I couldn't really pay you back until now. I counted them out, don't worry."

Starlight looked down at it, vaguely recalling a botched hoof wrestling tournament that had ended in Chrysalis legless for two days until she grew it back. "Where did you get this money from?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to. What's next, paprika? Here we go, sure."

"I probably should've asked before we started, but you can eat food right?"

"Of course I can. I just can't get nutrients from it."

Starlight considered that. "If love is your main diet, why do you have a mouth?"

"Why do you have a mouth? It seems to me you have a lot of needlessly complicated things inside you. You have an entire organ you don't need anymore and explodes randomly. Your lungs bleed when you run too fast. You have bone fragments from past skeletal structures you've evolved past the need for just floating inside you." Chrysalis beat together the ingredients in a bowl mercilessly.

"Fine, bug princess, what do you have inside you?" Starlight deadpanned.

"Your mother."

"She's dead."

"A squeedly smooch."

"I-" Starlight squinted at Chrysalis as she continued to keep her eyes on the bowl. "You're.... bluffing."

"Nope. It's the thing that sucks in love. It's just below my throat. I could show it to you if you don't believe me."

"Please don't peel yourself again. I just... that seems fake. This is a setup for a joke, isn't it?" Starlight looked around as if expecting to see a camera.

"Is it? There's only one way to find out, right?" Chrysalis leaned in, flashing a fang again.

Starlight met her gaze firmly. "....Go... Ahead...."

Chrysalis leaned back, sitting up, and took a nearby kitchen knife. In one swoop, she stabbed herself in the stomach and opened her skin like a costume.

Hundreds of spoons fell out.

"Return to oven and bake 15-20 minutes."

"Which is it, 15 or 20?"

"Depends on the voltage, I think."

"Well, what's the voltage?"

"I- It depends on what it says!"

"Well where does it say it?"

Starlight peered over the oven, wrenching it from the wall and growing more panicked as she did. "I don't know! There's no sticker or anything!"

"Check the inside!"

Starlight pulled the door open before stopping, glancing back. "If you push me in, I can just teleport out. You remember that, right?"

There was a suspiciously blank silence.

"Yes." Chrysalis murmured.

Starlight rolled her eyes before shoving her head in, looking around at it. "There's nothing! What do we do?"

Chrysalis danced between her hooves nervously. "Ah! Ah! I don't know! The exact halfway point?"

"We've spent hours on this. We cannot risk burning it." Starlight shook the pan in fear.

"Let's calm down! Let's think this over!"

The two took deep breaths, Chrysalis flexing her lack of lungs by continuing the breath for a minute and a half. Then, they mulled it over.

"What if..." Starlight manifested a glowing blue hand between them, sticking a pondering finger up. "We set it... to the lowest possible time?"

They hmmmed.

"That... could work. It's ludicrously insane, of course, but... Quite possible." Chrysalis relented.

The two slowly turned to the oven, taking half of the pan each and moving it inside gingerly, gently closing the door without making a sound. Then, beeps echoed through the room as Starlight silently popped the numbers into the microwave.

The microwave began to hum as they exhaled, backing away and hugging each other in relief.

Starlight sat up. "Wait, I forgot to preheat the oven."

The meatloaf was set on the island. Starlight carved it into two pieces, and they both took one, Starlight taking a cautious nibble and Chrysalis popping the entire thing into her mouth and swallowing it whole.

They thought it over.

"This has no right to be as good as it is." Starlight admitted.

"It... isn't the worst possible thing." Chrysalis confirmed.

"A little too much... Like, the salty stuff? Salt?"

"Really, I could eat that for the rest of my life."

"Holy shit, the more bites I take the better this is."

"That was most definitely ambrosia."

"Heck! This is probably what kissing feels like!"

Then Starlight swallowed, and Chrysalis finished digesting.

"Actually, that kinda sucked." Starlight tossed the spoon into the sink behind her.

Author's Note

The picture that inspired it

Heartbreaks (Fluttershy; Nebulously Toned)

Planet Equus was blue.

Fluttershy looked up at the tiny marble, suspended so far away she could lift her hoof under it and feel as if she were gently lifting it like an injured bird, sometimes enough to forget how massive it was in actuality. There was something humbling about grasping the earth that reminded her of her childhood, when she would catch frogs in her yard and hold them, feel them vibrate in her grasp, feeling their every tiny breath and trying to comprehend that such a beautiful and complex creature could be stored in such a small size. Her home planet was the most complicated creature she knew, and still it appeared no larger than a spider egg to her eyes.

The School of Friendship, much of the mountain it was built adjacent to, the walkway that led up to its front doors, and a handful of stepping stones floated through space aimlessly, carrying their only occupant further and further away from the planet Equus.

Fluttershy didn't mind it much, but there was one problem, and she had nearly forgotten about it in her stargazing. She quickly shook her head, standing up from the edge of the walkway she had been sitting on, legs hanging over the broken concrete and dipped into the abyss below. She began to speedtrot back towards the front doors and pushed them open with her head thoughtlessly, patrolling once more through the empty corridors.

As usual, a terrible ghastly silence was everpresent, and she made her first goal an abandoned gramophone in what had once been one of Pinkie's classrooms, the only thing in the room not covered in a fine layer of dust- she had never bothered with any of the other various supplies for parties and games she couldn't use alone. Instead, she always returned to the gramophone, occasionally idly straining to remember what possible lesson it could have been used for. As usual, the remaining discs lay in a neat pile next to them, and she picked her favorite from them and put it in, gently easing the needle to one of the lines running its length with the soft touch of a wingtip.

Heartaches...Heartaches...

She bobbed her head with a small smile, before leaving it to continue playing as she worked onwards. With no air, sound shouldn't be able to travel as far as it did, reaching every hall as if the school were an echo chamber, but she shouldn't be able to breathe up here either, so she didn't pay it much mind.

Her hooves tapped nimbly to the lulling music as she found her wings unconsciously unfurling from and returning to their rest in a rythmetic exercise. They occupied her thoughts as she trotted past award cases and paintings hung in the halls, both professional and student drawn. Back when she was still earthbound, the jarringly placed marshland in the center of one of her classrooms had been explained away as a magical teleportation incident from a trial headmare, but they had skirted around the identity. She had never had time to take it out, and it remained one of the only spots in the school where life still thrived- curiously as she understood it, it was still intrinsically tied to the swamp it had been placed on, and best the blades of grass knew, sunlight was still shining on them, and rain still periodically cultivated it.

She didn't know how it worked, and didn't pretend to, but unfortunately removing any part of it would dismember its connection to the planet far above, and she had reluctantly relented to enjoying it within her own classroom and nowhere else.

Things had changed. She had discovered something that would allow her to displace it- several things, in fact.

She scoured the land over with her gaze until she found it again, snout scrunching into a tiny smile. It was a tiny blue flower growing from the damp mud, painted with nearly symmetrical streaks of deeper blue along its inside, stigma dotted with dewdrop-like dots of pure milky white. From under her wings she produced a tiny shovel she had found in what used to be Yona's dorm, presented proudly on her nightstand, and an empty beaker from the science lab.

Delicately, she dug in a circle around the flower, creating a cylinder of solid mud around its protected roots, then scooped it up carefully, balancing it on the blade. Then, in one swift move, she transferred the flower topped cylinder to the beaker.

She had done it marvelously. The beaker now contained the flower sticking out, but it now began to sag, no longer reaching out to the nurturing sun. It was in a foreign vacuum now; she had to move fast.

---*---

Water soaked through the dirt, carving paths to rest at the glass floor, soaking the tips of the grateful roots.

The flower began to bloom again, facing out the windowsill it rested on towards the passing sun, still moved from the earth behind them. It would remain within view of the flower for the next six hours, by Fluttershy's measurements.

For her finishing touch, she slung a row of bubblegum pink hearthswarming lights she had found in Pinkie's old office from their last party together. Plants generally rejected green light wavelengths; blue or red were better for their growth, and pink was the closest she could find. She couldn't stay with it for very long; being in such close proximity to the sun already half blinded her, but she did her best to make sure it was well accommodated before returning inside.

---*---

Several hours later, Fluttershy returned to the empty dorm she took residence in. Several knick knacks she had grown fond of were rested in tidy rings on the floor, including decks of cards, rubix cubes, and a bust of Twilight. She looked them over fondly as she trotted over to her bed. Behind it, above the head, a window gazed out into space, turned away from the planet Equus and out into the void to the road she was now along for.

And in the center of that picturesque window to the outside, a beakered blue flower grew. It was dipped low again now that the sun had passed a little ways away, but it looked much healthier, more like it was tucking into itself to nap. Fluttershy patted it fondly and rested her head on her forelegs, smiling out at the sea of stars.

Planet Equus was blue.

Author's Note

The picture that inspired it

tha first g5 (Sunny Starscout; Sad/Hopeful)

Laughter reflected down a sunlit hallway as a small filly ran between paintings hung on sections of wall divided by tall windows, soaking in their details before running down to the next one in turn, each portrait smiling sweetly down at her, as if even centuries earlier, the ponies immortalized knew exactly which little girl would be staring up at them with wide eyes hidden behind a fiery mane.

Behind her, something far greater carried itself on barely moving hooves, gliding along the shining floor after her. Gold and jewels hung off her, her hair danced with the ebb and flow of moving water, and her every feature suggested a perfectly sculpted statue, an effigy of the perfect creature. Even the sun emblazoned on her seemed to flicker in the light. And yet she still gazed fondly at the filly as if it were her own, small smile the only betrayal of an amusement at her wonder.

The hallway was nearing its end now, but four walls were still unfilled, one bearing only an empty golden frame, as if awaiting a greater purpose. Sunset stopped at this frame, cocking her head in confusion.

"What's this one for, Princess?"

"It's for you, of course." Celestia spoke kindly, stopping behind her student and turning to face the frame alongside her. "I preserve every student of mine in shades of color; I consider it my burden to them. I've taught them well, and in turn, they've gone on and changed the world. This is the least I can do for them."

Sunset's eyes somehow managed to grow larger. "I'm going to be here someday? You think I'll be that good?"

Celestia's neck dipped like a swan, and she pressed her cheek to Sunset's own. "I think you'll be better."

Sunset beamed into the empty frame.

---*---

Fifty years later, that frame was still empty.

In the section of wall next to it, a painting of a far younger Twilight hung.

Lustre Dawn scanned the portrait up and down with an inquiring eye. "I'm going to be the next one?"

"Of course, my student." Behind her, something far greater carried itself to her. Gold and jewels hung off her, her hair danced with the ebb and flow of moving water, and even the sparkles emblazoned on her seemed to shimmer in the light. And yet she still gazed fondly at the teenager as if it were her own, small smile the only betrayal of an amusement at her wonder.

"The first one under your rule, right?"

"Indeed."

Lustre looked down the hall at the many, many others they had passed to come through. She had recognized every one.

"What was Celestia like?" She asked.

"What do you mean, Lustre?"

"I mean, she lived to see all of those great ponies just die underneath her. She kept ruling knowing that she'd come to see even more. Did she ever seem bothered by it?"

The question hung in the air for a long time before it was plucked out.

"I think she was the happiest mare in Equestria, Lustre. But yes, I'm sure she thought of them sadly very, very often."

Lustre looked to the empty frame, only two generations behind her.

"And who was that?"

---*---

Sunny Starscout wandered a roofless hallway suspended on rickety supports high above the ghost city of Canterlot. through the nature made skylight, shining like a second moon in the night sky, she could see the lights of Zephyr Heights even higher above her.

She turned back to the portraits, struggling to draw as many as quickly and minimalistically as she could; she couldn't spend too much time here, but she needed to capture these visages, many of whom had been forgotten by time.

She suddenly stopped at one of the final paintings, her breath catching in her throat as she recognized it, and she threw her back over her shoulder in front of her, fishing through it until she hit plastic.

She lifted the plastic Twilight toy up to the portrait of the purple unicorn. She had been a unicorn before an alicorn. The historical implications of this were mind boggling, but the thought appealed to her in a far different way. Alicorns, she supposed, were children too once.

She flipped through her sketchbook, past the shoddily recreated sketches of the other portraits, and to a self portrait just before them, one she had spent considerably more time on.

There was only one section of wall left, just past the pink mare she couldn't place from memory. There was no frame, but she didn't need one; whoever the empty golden frame was for, she didn't want to tarnish their memory.

Instead, she took a strip of tape from her bag and slapped her colored pencil sketch in the final panel.

Then, she trotted onwards.

Author's Note

The picture that inspired it

tha second g5 (Sunny Starscout; Anthology)

"What the hay is it?

Sunny squinted from the underbrush, gently nudging a giant leaf off her head to allow her to lean forward, cautiously poking her muzzle out from the shade. In the early morning sun, a form only half a head smaller than Sunny herself poked at a riverbank. It vaguely resembled an animal she had seen once in a storybook, a brown furred creature with stumpy clawed legs, a doggish nose at the end of a toothed muzzle, and short round ears, but she hesitated to call it 'furred'. Its coat swam with galaxies seemingly suspended inside it, like it was less of an animal and more of a purple tinted animal-shaped portal into deep space. But in the way it moved, and the wind unsettled its coat, she could tell it was alive, and searching in the river for some sort of food.

Sunny crawled backwards into the bush, shrinking her head back into her forehaunches as she gulped in worry. She nudged the air beside her, whispering with a focus intent on the creature that now sniffed and growled at a passing insect.

"We'll need to go around it. We don't know if it's dangerous, or- Izzy!"

Her entire coat practically leaped off her skin as she turned to the absence of pony behind her, swinging her focus back to the creature at a familiar giggle from its direction.

Izzy was sitting in front of the creature, which plodded down onto its short tail to mimic her. Izzy cocked her head, and so did the creature, and before long it was curled contently at her side as she brushed a hoof through its fur.

Sunny approached with her own tail between her legs, a worried hiss fizzing out as fear became curiosity. The creature resting against Izzy opened its eyes and stared up at her as she approached, and she noticed for the first time the brilliant yellow eyes with blood red pupils, an unnaturally captivating watch staring right through her. Even still, on its forehead under its ears, a white star was emblazoned, more minimalist than the dazzlingly realistic stars that swarmed inside it by the millions. These stars drew Sunny's focus again, but she forced herself to meet its gaze and approach respectfully.

The creature snorted and nuzzled against Izzy's side again, and Sunny took the opportunity to kneel at its side and reach cautiously for its warm pelt.

"What... How did you..." Sunny began.

Izzy shrugged exaggeratedly while keeping her forelegs frozen in place to let the creature rest. "We get bears occasionally back home. I've never seen one like this, though! Look at its fur! Are those real?"

Sunny felt individual furs growing on the... bear, the name came back to her now, but they all seemed to project the same illusion of solar systems living and dying inside it- Even as she watched, several stars flashed and faded out, and several more banged into existence to replace their fallen brethren.

Sunny was immediately on her sketchbook, outlining the round and pudgy form best she could, guestimation filling in the spots Izzy's petting removed from her line of sights.

"It's like... A picture showing on its entire body, that the fur doesn't disrupt. It's so weird."

"Like a cutie mark?" Izzy unwrapped her tail from her flank to look down at her crochet heart. Even as her muscles and skin would stretch or compress, the cutie mark remained steadfastly stubborn.

"Yeah... Yeah, exactly like that! We may be onto something, Izzy!" Sunny breathlessly answered, holding her head in her hands.

Izzy let out a cautiously quiet cheer. "Reuiniting the tribes and discovering a new species of cutie isn't bad for one road trip, is it?"

Sunny's excitement subsided, and she laughed calmly. "Well, hold your tongue for now. We're still working on part one."

She returned her hoof to the bear's fur, more confidently now, stroking along the path of comets and asteroids as they filled the night sky.

---*---

"Can you... shoot lasers?"

"No, no magic Sunny!"

Sunny scribbled notes frantically, seemingly thoughts that came to her rather than Izzy's responses. "But think about it, you've got to have some magic! Ancient Equestria's scientists taught us our marks are magically bound to us, right?"

"I definitely don't remember that teaching."

Sunny finally stopped, glancing up. "What were you taught about cutie marks?"

She glanced back at her flank. "Well, unicorns teach about it differently depending on where they live."

"Don't they all live in the woods?"

"There's more than one woods, Sunny. And really, as long as it's somewhere they think nobody will find them, they're happy to live anywhere. I've heard stories about some even living underground. We've got all sorts of horror stories about where other ponies live and what they do."

"Well, what do they say about Earth Ponies?" Sunny put on her best winning smile as Izzy recalled.

"They say... you live in a village that's only found when you're not looking for it, and you think cutie marks are a curse, and you throw little unicorn kids into fireplaces."

They stared at each other for a while before breaking into giggles, Sunny tucking her sketchpad back into her bag diligently.

"They say that one has historical basis, but I don't buy it. There's not much history to find in the woods. The only structure for miles we didn't build was this old crystal treehouse."

This definitely piqued Sunny's interest. "Like, made of crystal? Who made it?"

"It was just here when we settled. And of course, there's a dozen horror stories about it too, that it's haunted by changelings and all kinds of cool stuff."

"You make a lot of horror stories."

"Why do you think we hide from everyone?"

---*---

"Izzy, did you mention changelings yesterday? You've heard of them?"

Izzy looked down the rocky hill, reaching out for Sunny and lifting her until she could get a foothold, then continuing the climb up. "Not much! Just the vague idea of shapeshifting buggies. We've got all sorts of stories about other species."

Sunny risked the precarious teetering of their foothold to snatch out her sketchpad. "Other species! Yes, it feels like I'm the only one back home who reads about old Equestria! Nobody else seems to care about gryphons, or hippogriffs, or zebras, or kelpies, but I've got notes on all of them! Did you know about the lost seventeen years of Hippogriff history none of my books cover?"

Izzy grinned happily, quickly jumping to another rock as her own broke. "I would love love love to hear about it!"

---*---

"What do you think the Pegasi will be like?"

Izzy threw some more kindling onto their fire, stumbling into a sit as she did. The fire shed light on the broken walls of Canterlot around them, the ghosts of the city whispering as they sat among the abandoned ruins, miles above the ground level and still nowhere close to the spotlights of the city high above at the precipice of the peak.

"I think they'll be super cool. I've always wanted a friend who could fly, ever since I was a filly." Sunny admitted, looking up and noting with idle curiosity how few of the stars were visible this close to the city; she had expected far opposite.

"If you trust them, I guess there's no way all of our stories are true. I'll bet there are all sorts of historians up there that could tell you about where Kirin came fr- Do you hear that?" Izzy perked her ears up.

Both of them listened intently to the embers until Sunny realized what she was drawing attention to; subtle, fuzzy voices inside the building they were seated next to.

It didn't take long to find a withered hole in the wall, revealing the overgrown inside, confirming their suspicions that it had once been a restaurant. The majority of the interior had been largely removed, but a sign hung over a desk built into the wall with three horseshoes painted on, the same symbol they had seen over restaurants that had stayed open longer than this one. And lying on top of the desk, a neatly sealed plastic carton of cupcakes and a tiny black screened device with wires ending in plastic caps snaking out of it waited for them.

Izzy immediately went for the cupcakes, emblazoned with a proud black symbol depicting two wings around a stylized slice of cake, but Sunny went for the noise emitting device, lifting one of the wires to her ear curiously. She could definitely hear it now, but while she could describe it as a form of music, she couldn't explain it past that if she tried. She was thankful Izzy could experience the weird sensations it sent down her spine with her.

"She's got a really nice voice, but what are those instruments?" Izzy pondered. "Some weird drums? Strings coated in soda?"

Sunny looked back up at the city looming above and the gratuitous lights proudly illuminating the shining star of Equestria. "I think we're in for a lot of culture shock, Izzy.".

---*---

"Yeah, those were mine." Zipp casually explained away.

Sunny wasn't satisfied. "Why did you leave it on?"

The four of them were gathered around a campfire back on the slopes of Zephyr Heights, waiting out the patrols Pipp had warned might be sent after them as far as Canterlot, although never further.

"Oh, it was nothing." Pipp delicately replied, preening a feather. "She just greatly enjoys taking her sister's MP3 player on promise she'd return it, then running down to Canterlot and just leaving it there."

"I had a reason!" Zipp protested. "All I knew at the time was that strange ponies from other lands might be coming for us, and I didn't know when or what their intentions were. But I knew they'd pass through Canterlot, so I tried to keep retreating down there to see if I could intercept them. But then I decided to leave a diplomacy gift, just in case I wasn't there! Diplomacy! I practiced it!" She stuck her tongue out at her sister crudely. "I was hoping the radio on that thing would be playing news or something to give them a clue of our culture, but of course the first pegasus they ever heard was your singing."

"I am an amazing singer, thank you very much..."

Their din faded to white noise as Sunny opened her saddlebag, fiddling with the outline of the metal ornament inside, feeling the ridges of its sculpted feathers and flipping through her memory, trying to recall a single Element who had a pair of flaunted wings as a cutie mark.

---*---

Pipp shook her hoof in annoyance as she stepped on a twig. "Fuck."

Izzy whipped around on her in surprise, slack jawed. "How did you do that with your mouth?"

"That's what she said." Zipp finished.

"What who said?"

The two sisters glanced at each other with cocked eyebrows before Zipp slowly grinned.

"Hey Izzy, ever heard of Bofa?"

---*---

"This is what you did all day?"

"No! I sang and performed and slept in too!"

Cell reception was dying the further away from Zephyr Heights they got. At it's dying throes, Pipp had obliged Izzy's questions about what exactly she did for a living. They were currently watching her old Fortnite streams.

"Why would they just watch you play a game instead of play it themselves?" Izzy asked curiously.

Pipp scoffed. "They don't watch it for the game, they watch it for the me. They want to see how I play, and what I talk about."

"And they give you money for that?"

Pipp pointed to her webcam, week-old-Pipp gushing over a donation given. "All the time!"

"For talking about a game they like."

"Oh, there are so many ways to monetize off that."

Izzy hummed curiously, tilting her head.

"Got any rhythm games?"

Pipp tapped on one of her FNF modding streams.

---*---

Sunny's friends slept tightly on the grass around her, the lights of naturally growing crystals reflecting off their closed eyes. In the sturdy branch of a drooping tree near the ground, Sunny herself flipped through her sketchbook. She was happy to see it was filled almost entirely with notes and sketches, on Kirin and Pegasi and Crystals and Music and Technology and Folklore.

She was disappointed to find no appearance of the winged symbol besides a sketch of the symbol on the cupcakes carton, minus the cake slice. Clearly it was an important art piece to the Pegasi; but beyond that, she hadn't a clue what historical significance it had. She had always imagined the secrets of magic and history to be lying just out of her reach, but as it turned out, nobody had any idea of what had happened to the world in the years since the Guardians of Harmony died.

Then she caught it, something she had missed at first; the Star, Twilight's mark. She had nearly gone giddy when she saw it in Zephyr Heights, but she had seen it somewhere else, hadn't she?

She flipped to the beginning of her book, one of the first days of her journey with Izzy. The bear. She counted the points of the star on its forehead, realizing with a slowly growing confusion that the two stars were one and the same. It meant far more than Twilight; she had only been a bearer.

Sunny looked out into the woods, no closer to the truth but feeling strangely comfotted.

Wild Lyrabon I (Lyra, Bon Bon; Comedy)

The jungle rapid beat mercilessly against the tiny dinghy as it was carried further into the hearts of the horrific marshlands it had tried to avoid deliberately; Bon Bon held tightly onto the side of the ship as it tossed, the 'captain' struggling to kick it back into gear and get them out of here. Horror stories about the heart of the jungle abounded; filled with alligators, hippos, piranhas, and a whole host of other nasties that guaranteed death within seconds for those unlucky enough to get caught up inside. And now the rivers around it that had been so docile decided to pick up as if they had always been a flurry, pushing them along the route into the jungle's depths so perfectly it seemed to have a mind of its own.

"We need to abandon ship!" Captain Wave yelled to the passenger he had been asked to guide down the rivers. "This isn't what I was paid for!"

For all that was going on, Bon Bon seemed strangely calm, offering no more than a tired sigh. "Yeah, I figured this would happen."

"You figured?"

"She's a bit excitable." Bon Bon called to him as a stray leech flew by her.

"Who's a bit excitable?" Captain Wave screamed.

And just as quickly, the waters were calm again, and the boat was beached on the muddy shores of the darkest part of the jungle. Bon Bon approached the edge as Wave caught his breath, and to his horror, made out the shape of something rising in the mud, buried beneath the earth, now emerging to-

"Hi Bonnie!" A muddy green head poked out from underground, waving with a hoof that flung sludge out of its wake. "Didja come to see me? Didja?"

Bon Bon rolled her eyes before smiling, leaning over the edge. "Hi, Lyra. It's good to see you."

Wave looked between them wildly. "You- have a friend- who lives here?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, she's the swamp."

"What?"

"Yeah, the pony is just a vessel for her, or... hard light, or something, I don't know, it makes it easier to kiss her. The point is, she's like, the spirit of the swamp, I think...?"

Lyra huffed. "Sweetie, I am the swamp!"

"Yep, sorry honey. You know I'm forgettable sometimes."

"The swamp?" Wave exhaled. "The swamp I get paid a good sum to avoid? The swamp that kills a dozen men every year?"

Lyra shook her head. "No, that's the gators! Hi, Mortimer!"

Wave screamed when he finally noticed the gator cutting through the waters towards the tiny boat. With a whistle, it stopped dead.

"Hey! Mortimer! Go find someone else, that's my wife!" Lyra called halfheartedly. With little more than a grunt, the gator turned around and began swimming back.

"You... married... the swamp..." Wave began to look lightheaded. "Don't tell me you... somehow..."

Bon Bon furrowed her brow, cross. "Captain, don't be ridiculous. We're both girls."

Author's Note

The pic that inspired this

Wild Lyrabon II (Lyra, Bon Bon; Comedy)

In a vile hive of scum and villainy, a monster hunched over a stolen scroll resting before them.

Compound blue eyes darted over cursive words penned long ago, narrowing into glowing slits as they reached the torn end, cursing the carelessness of whoever had last owned it- or cowardice, had they destroyed it on purpose.

Her wings flicked as she rested it back on the ground, thinking carefully. Their plan had failed; the library she had raided only held half of the scroll her queen demanded she retrieve. But it was no matter; she knew where the other half lay, in the archives of Canterlot Castle.

But it wasn't nearly that easy, was it? As with many of the more valuable rooms in the castle, it was heavily and magically safeguarded against the presence of her kind. She would need something else, someone she could trust who would complete the most valuable piece of her plan. A single wrong choice would jeopardize her mission, and the years she had spent forging a false identity to complete this mission. This was her most important task yet, the task which would finally allow her queen to prove her superiority once and for all to those wretched-

"Bonnie, it's late. Are you still up?"

Bon-Bon hissed, whipping around at the intruder before quickly throwing up her cream coated disguise when she realized who it was.

"I- Oh, I'm just working. I'll come to bed in a second, I promise."

"Of course, hun. Take your time. I love you."

Lyra closed the door, sealing Bon-Bon once again in her garage's darkness. Her eyes returned to their blue glow as she cackled to herself menacingly. How could she have forgotten? She had the perfect pawn for her plan, a pitiful pony so naive and stupid and pretty and smart and cute and-

Bon-Bon sighed. She couldn't risk her mission being found out, but that was no reason to be rude. She made a vow to herself to treat Lyra out to ice cream when they were done.

Bon-Bon grunted, once more returned to the Earth Pony disguise she wore like a glove by now as she threw a grappling hook up into the castle's ramparts. Behind her, Lyra bounced happily, looking up at the stars with an adorable interest.

"Alright, I'll help you get your grasp. Then rest your hooves firmly on the wall, and only lift one at a time. Got it?"

"Got it!" Lyra's determination melted into a high squee. "Oh, I'm so happy I get to come to work with you!" She threw herself around Bon-Bon suddenly, the combat-trained changeling's disguise flickering for a second as she reminded herself Lyra wasn't an enemy.

She drank up the love inherent in the gesture for a moment before pushing Lyra off, glancing away sheepishly.

"...Me too, hun. Now try and get a leg up."

The two scaled the rampart, and Bon-Bon took down an unfortunate Royal Guard with her fangs while Lyra was distracted by the moon, quickly throwing him off the side before she caught up.

The castle hallways were eerily unlit this late at night, and Bon-Bon found Lyra's fearlessness admirable as they treaded softly along. She found all of Lyra's traits admirable, of course, but it always brought her a smidgen of respect when the pony showed signs of foresight and training despite having no experience in combat beyond fly swatting and frequently waiting two days past the expiration date before she threw out milk.

"Celestia, you come here every day? You must be friends with the princess!" Lyra gushed.

Bon-Bon vaguely remembered watching with unrestrained glee during a recent wedding invasion as the princess in question had nearly had the life beaten out of her by the changeling queen.

"Yeah, sort of."

"You must have the coolest job in the world. Super spy, fighting for Equestria's safety, and a really good baker in her free time?"

Bon-Bon felt her cheeks warm with artificial blood at the last one. "I mean, you know, baking really isn't that big of a deal."

"Still, I'll bet you taught yourself it while, like, fighting a bugbear or something!"

Bon-Bon vaguely remembered crying in front of an oven as she repeatedly reminded herself that cocooning and replacing a baker was her idea, and now she was the one who had to deal with the consequences and learn the craft.

"I even wrote a song for you about it!" Lyra's eyes focused forward again as she levitated a harp two sizes too large for the bag that carried it, pulling it in front of her and anchoring her butt to the ground to play.

"I see a nightmare of you tearing the air from my lungs!

"I see a nightmare of you feasting on my heart and love!

"I see the love of my life reaching out to smother me!

"I see a being being somewhere that it shouldn't be!

"A part of me says I should be scared of a part of you!

"The part of you that multiplies and tries to kill the moon!"

Bon Bon stared back at her with a cocked eyebrow.

"What did that... have to do with the job at hand?"

Lyra shrugged, squishing the harp back into her bag. "It's a work in progress. I kinda just went by heart, and ended up writing 'Love' twice in succession. Guess it's coz I love ya!" She excused.

Bon-Bon shook her head, facing a large set of double doors. She put an eye to the keyhole, slowly growing out said eye to look closer at the library behind it before suddenly snapping back as a jolt of magic swatted her away.

She retreated a few paces, catching her thoughts and straightening up.

"This is where you come in, hun. I need you to go inside, find the scroll on a pedestal that looks like it's been ripped in half, and check it out with the mysterious spooky librarian."

"Okay! Are they open this late?"

"It wouldn't be a mysterious spooky magical library if it wasn't."

"Okay! Why can't you do it?" Lyra tilted and lowered her head to look up at Bon Bon.

Bon-Bon stammered. "I... I have... an overdue book."

"Really?"

"Yeah. If they see my face again, they're going to... kill me? Yeah, kill me." Drat it all! She was normally much better at lying than this, but proximity to Lyra seemed to make her much more sluggish. She blamed it on an overabundance of love.

"Ooh, that wouldn't be good! What do I tell them I need it for?"

"Uh... would she believe school project?"

"I've been out of school for ten years, Bon-Bon."

"Out of school project then. But make it quick!" She leaned in for an encouraging peck before they traded places, Lyra trotting inside humming to herself and Bon-Bon taking her spot outside.

As the seconds ticked by, Bon-Bon grew nervous. Lyra was capable, if a little slow. But had she given her too much? What if they were suspicious? What if they arrested her? Oh, think, Bon-Bon, a new identity is easy, but you can't leave Lyra behind. You'll never forgive yourself if-

"Hey!"

In the span of a second, Bon-Bon was ready to fight. She crossed the distance between herself and the night patrolling royal guard as he was still rearing, her hoof growing into a large paw and clobbering him to the ground. He recovered quickly- stupid armour- but she slammed the paw into his head again, knocking him unconscious. As he crumpled, she regrew her fangs, biting into the flesh of his neck and going for the larynx.

"Got it!" Lyra's sing-song voice called from behind the doors.

Think!

Bon-Bon had an unconscious guard at her hooves. She flicked her chin up to retract her fangs, panicking as the hoofsteps drew nearer. Think think think-

Lyra came through waving a crumpled scroll in her magic, passing it to Bon-Bon proudly. "Work done! Is this the one you needed?"

Bon-Bon licked her lips clean, taking the scroll quickly and reading it over. Power of the sun... Thaumic absorption... scorched earth... Yes, it was perfect. Finally, she had succeeded; the most deadly Changeling in all of Chrysalis's army, now with the intel needed to propel Chrysalis from the queen of a dying race to the queen of a dying world. Nothing would be spared of her wrath. Nobody would be saved.

"Yay! Can we go for ice cream now?" Lyra seemed to pick up on her happiness, doing a curt little victory dance in the narrow hallway.

Bon-Bon's smile faded a little. It was true she hated all pitiful ponies, but... Well, maybe it would be a while before she turned this one in. Really, she needed to... prepare for her leave, right. Chrysalis would understand.

"...Yeah. Let's get some ice cream." Bon-Bon smiled, nuzzling against Lyra, and they began walking back down the hallways as drops of green goo dripped from the ceiling, where a terrified royal guard squirmed in his cocoon.

Author's Note

the pic that inspired this

Insane in the Mainframe (OC; Comedy)

The following is an employee education tape taken from the archives of MoreOwie Industries, seized shortly after its bankruptcy and closure. The tapes have been added to the Canterlot Library for ease of public access as being of 'Important Historical Significance', and as teaching material for any interested in the magical arts. When asked for her thoughts on the actions of MoreOwie, Princess Celestia was scant to comment save the vague indication that she found it 'amusing'.

Transcript notes were doodled in pen in the margins and sometimes between lines by an unknown party thought to be a former worker.

-Mgmt

[Begin transcript.]

[Show MEINU, the narrator for most of the video, a cherry red Changeling with golden eyes that reflect the light in dancing waves (Transcript Note: Won't that not show up under CRT lines?). He smiles at the camera and waves his hoof in a grand, sweeping gesture.]

MEINU: Good morning. You can call me Meinu, the founder, CEO, and manager of internal affairs at MoreOwie Industries, and I'd like to welcome you, new employee, to the world of the future.

[The camera zooms out, and we see the labs at work (TN: Ask the workers to look productive). Members of all species manuever microscopes to peer at slides, while at the back a sleeping Pony is suspended by a white X-Ray machine in front of a board a chart is projected upon (TN: "A" chart? Screw it, we'll show the sales report and hope nobody squints too hard). Creatures continue to work as Meinu begins walking among them, the camera once again zooming in on him.]

MEINU: Here at MoreOwie, our mission statement is simple; Modify and Sever, Modify Whatever. In the dawn of civilization, the balance was even- Predators, diseases, childbirth complications, and weather culled the populations of all living creatures, allowing us to live in Harmony. But in the thousands of years since, its become clear that some species are meant to thrive above others- Changelings, Dragons, Ponies, Hippogriff, Kirin- Indiscriminately, logic is clear. If the species is sapient enough to rise above its base instincts and build a civilization, the species has won and conquered the cradle of life we call our planet. But we can go further.

[A blank black silhouette of an Earth Pony appears on a white background.]

MEINU: Now, our species' goals are no longer to survive- we want to thrive, and to that end is our greatest asset yet, our ability to optimize. When our eyes fail, we build ourselves glasses.

[Red glasses appear.]

MEINU: When our ears fail, we build ourselves hearing aids, grabbing the reins of magic itself to restore our senses.

[Grey Elephant Ears appear (TN: I guess working in a lab has made me unaware of how few people know what an Equestrian hearing aid looks like. When we showed this to a test audience, many assumed the elephant ears to be some kind of exaggeration for comedy.).]

MEINU: When we lose a limb, we replace it with a metal, gemstone powered replica.

[An emerald peg leg appears.]

MEINU: A being capable of thought is a being deserving of living, but these means are primitive. Metal is not the way- we can do better. And it's all thanks to Changelings we know we can.

[Cut to stock footage of a Unicorn mother licking the Amniotic Sac off a foal (TN: Is that really what they do? Gross. Don't they have, like, gloves?).]

MEINU: A Changeling is a master of its own Stem Cells. When, say, a pony is born, its a collection of those Stem Cells that begin to grow the rest of its body. As it matures, it maintains only a small amount of them.

[Cut to stock footage of Changelings hatching, with the caption 'TAKEN POST REFORMATION' (TN: This was actually taken by a wartime reporter when Chrysalis was still reigning as part of a Changeling documentary, but I'm sure nobody will research hard enough to look into the citations in the credits. Plus, it's posthumous so it cost less.).]

MEINU: Changelings are different; when they come out of the egg, they alone control replication and function of those cells. They regrow and evolve and change to the greatest form they can be. We asked the question nobody else would; Can these cells be used on other creatures? And the answer was yes. As soon as the theory was proven, we proposed the idea to medical institutions all over the world. Thanks to our work, in a matter of years, physical injury will be rendered obsolete. I dream of a day when kids on the playground will dare each other to bash open their heads with rocks, safe in the knowledge that anything short of complete brain destruction can be repaired by a loving mother from the comfort of their own home.

[Cut to lengthy disclaimer that MoreOwie Industries does not endorse the beliefs of its founder and spokesperson.]

MEINU: It seems like our Mission Statement is complete, right? But we can go further. We can enter a new age. Ladies and Gentlemen, by the time I'm done with my species, 'Ladies and Gentlemen' will be an optional setting.

[As Meinu talks, a very effeminate mare is seen chugging from a potion, and in a poof of pink dust, changing features to a stallion, looking down at themselves in mild surprise.]

MEINU: When our science was proven, We all had a big meeting, and tossed around a single question; 'What can Changelings not do?' We reached a popular consensus of what the Changelings on our board wished we could modify about our bodies we simply can't, and results were illuminating.

[Cut to a montage of workers looking at the cameras with smiles.]

WORKER 1: I want to glow like a firefly!

WORKER 2: I want a windmill on my head!

WORKER 3: I want to be my fursona, but there just isn't anything in real life like it I can model myself after!

(TN: That's Dave. Bitch stole my lunch.)

[Cut back to MEINU on a grassy field overlooking the ocean.]

MEINU: So we did it, modifying and severing to our heart's content, and it worked.

[A large green check mark appears next to him (TN: Demonstrating our epic editing capabilities).]

MEINU: And that's not only for our race. I ask you, intrepid viewer, what do you want?"

[Cut to a montage of random species smiling at the camera.]

HIPPOGRIFF: Wings.

BUFFALO: I want to make whale calls!

WHALEPONY: I want my horn to be really long and droopy so I can thwack people with it if I turn fast enough!

[Cut to a cartoon vector of a box full of potions, and one item that appears to be a plastic dragon head (TN: 'Appears to be').]

MEINU: Here at MoreOwie Industries, we ask the questions nobody else will. 'Why should we bother with concepts like gender when we just made a working robot arm last week?' 'Why shouldn't we get moving Cutie Marks that look like DeviantArt stamps and are just as hard to look at?' 'Why not market to the wallets of the procreationally deviant, if they're willing to throw a few cents our way for their MoreCrate subscription?

[Cut to Meinu, back at the lab.]

MEINU: And as one of our newly hired scientists, you've gotta ask those questions too. There are no bad ideas, only ideas that result in abominations to nature that must be euthanized for their own good.

[Cut to a cartoonish (TN: all too cheerful) lab coat-clad pony fighting off tentacles emerging from behind a door, then a white cat silhouette marked GCAT.]

MEINU: You sequence the GCATs, we sell for fat cash, and the world gets a little larger. Why, before long even Death will be at our beck and call! Time to clarify that will, ghost grandpa!

[Cut to a vector of a skeletal old man in a wheelchair being suddenly poofed back to a baby.]

MEINU: Freedom of Form is our universal right as Changelings. Why can't it be yours, too? The sky and your bank account are the limit. We're excited to start working with you, Champ. Let's make a better world together. And from all of us here at MoreOwie Industries; Thank you.

[Cut to MEINU standing in a crowd of workers, all waving at the camera as it zooms out. The footage shrinks to a corner of the screen and in the remaining space, phone numbers and guarantees appear. End on the MoreOwie logo, a weird, hydra-headed, furry creature snarling at the camera.]

[End transcript.]

Bankruptcy was declared half a month later when all of the company's resources were poured into creating the Plane Pony. Trials were a success. The victory was Pyrrhic.

Alongside these tapes, all internal files, research, and assets were seized by the Crown. This tape is one of the rarities that were allowed to the public eye. It is unknown what was done with the rest of the material.

Two months after the seizure and archival, an official Transequinism branch was quietly added to the Canterlot Society of Technological Development, an organization heavily backed and funded by the Crown.

-Mgmt

Author's Note

The pic that inspired it

Kevin (Applejack, OC; Sad)

In a bar at the edge of Ponyville sat a Changeling in a jester costume.

The changeling was unreformed, wearing black chitin with clear signs of age and scratches from various periods across his life. Similarly, the costume was raggedy and torn, falling apart in several places and clearly procured out of a costume store- it even still had a price tag hanging off the collar, never taken off despite how long it had been apparently used unwashed. The changeling hunkered over his drink, tapping his chin and humming as he watched the door, seemingly oblivious to the bargoers around him, including more than a few reformed and much brighter-looking Changedlings.

He finally perked up at the bell over the door clinging as it opened, seemingly no different from the others save the one whose arrival it announced- a middle aged orange mare with a faded bandanna around her neck, a well cared for Stetson, and a three-apple cutiemark.

"G'morning, Applejack." He raised his glass in greeting brightly.

"G'morning, Kevin." Applejack nodded kindly at him as she approached. "Grabbing a drink, I see. Mind if I join you?"

Kevin shook his head, spreading his forelegs invitingly while glancing at the stool next to him. "Not at all, please, take a seat."

Applejack obliged, and Kevin took another contented sip, noticeably more cheerful at the company despite how Applejack nervously rubbed the edge of the bar. "It feels like a long time since we've run into each other." She decided to open with.

"I'll say! You're looking different. I like the new bandanna." Kevin pointed out.

"This?" She looked down at herself in surprise before sheepishly settling back down. "Oh. Yeah, I guess it's new."

"How's your family? Still holding the farm together all by yourself?" Kevin joked.

"Shoot, feels that way sometimes." She laughed sullenly. "Naw, I got a little extra help. Dash moved in recently, looks like my brother's about to get hitched- Sis' old enough to start helping me with the more laborious stuff, Celestia knows my body's gonna be shot from all these years of work soon enough."

"Your brother? Ain't that a surprise? Good luck to the happy couple!" He jabbed his glass in her direction. "What about your dear old grandma?"

"She's... well, she's been dead for a while. I told you that, Kev." Applejack reminded.

Kevin looked blank for a second, staring in confusion before shaking his head with a brrrrrr. "Aw, hell. I must've misremembered- I swore it was your Dad who passed. Shit, I didn't mean to dig up bad memories- here, let me buy you a glass. Cider, I assume?" He raised his hoof to the bartender.

"That... would be lovely." She took the glass when it was offered and seemed to struggle to find a new point of conversation. "You're wearing the costume, Kev."

Kevin started, glancing around and lowering his tone. "Hell, keep your voice down! Now, you know I gotta be a pony when I'm out fraternizing in public. Can't have my cover blown, now can we? Imagine their reaction, knowing they've got a Changeling among them."

Applejack sighed. "Can't begin to imagine. I guess I just thought- Aw, nevermind."

"You mentioned Dash. You're living with the old girl now? Never got to know her all that much. Hell, aside from back at the wedding. I ever tell you that one?"

"You might've mentioned it a few times."

"Shit, feels like yesterday." He smiled, glancing askance wistfully. "Back at Chrysalis' first invasion- on the front lines, of course. The girl punched me upside the face, out clean in a single hit- that takes some real strength, to knockit a Changeling. That was shortly before I got deployed out here, when she decided she wanted more eyes on this town a while back. But don't you be telling that to others, you hear?" He jokingly reminded, seeming unbothered despite the apparent secrecy- even his voice was back to a normal volume, once again forgetting he was supposed to care about who heard him.

"You get, ah... you get any word back from Chrysalis at all? About your spying mission?" Applejack prompted.

"Oh, not in... months? When was the last one... Ah, she's got busier things to deal with. When she needs information here you know exactly who she'll call up first- The Hive's Finest." He swelled proudly.

"Feelin' like it's been a while since her last message to you."

Kevin slowly shook his head as if pitying her. "Listen, I respect you a lot, but I can't go expectin a pony to understand Changeling matters. Our queen knows what she's doin."

"About that... Changeling matters." Applejack shifted her seat towards him, looking him in the compound eye. "You trust me, right?"

"Course I do." He confidently answered. "You've kept my secret this long, ain't you?"

"Wouldn't dream of giving you away, but... you ever wonder, you know, what would happen if you took off the costu- Err, shapeshifted back?"

"Oh, I shapeshift back." He calmly missed the point. "Don't like sleeping in a body that ain't my own."

"I mean... in public. Like, y'know... revealing yourself?"

"To ponies? Shucks, that would be the most flagrant violation- why, the Queen would execute me on the spot!" He growled, uncharacteristically losing his temper. "C'mon, Applejack, don't joke about those kinds of things."

"I guess you're right." She sadly noted.

"Ain't nobody but you know about my mission, and don't you go telling your friends about it- not even Dash. Why, if Twilight knew the spawn of her arch nemesis were living in her town... I'm lucky I haven't run into her in so long. Speaking of Dash, you know she punched me upside the head at the wedding?" He smiled, glancing askance wistfully.

"You've mentioned it a few times." Applejack quickly changed the subject, setting her hooves on the table. "Listen, I gotta be going. Farm still needs my help, but... you know you can visit me any time you want?"

"Ah, you know I wish I could, but I ain't leaving town limits until my mission is complete. Sweet Apple's just a wee bit too far off- You know where to find me, though, eh?" He raised his glass in toast as the pony stood.

"Of course I do. Here, tab's on me." She fished out a few bits and set them on the table in front of him. "You take care, alright Kevin?"

"You too, AJ." As she headed for the door, he called out to her again. "You're a good friend, you know that?"

Applejack smiled sadly. "I try to be."

Kevin returned to his drink as she left, blissfully unaware of anyone else in the room.

Princess Platinum (Starlight, Twilight; Sad)

It was a single sentence that ignited Twilight's fervor.

The Private Journal of Princess Platinum

The Princess seldom knows contemporaneous reward; it is enough to possess the joy of knowing that what you cast into the future may someday, through one way or another, help a future generation. Even if it may be only a single individual, my sister and I have always behaved on the idea that the actions we take will leave ripples forever.

What remained of the pages had been scoured by many scholars before her, but try as she might, she could find no sources or academic papers anywhere mentioning the single sentence relevation- Princess Platinum, long thought a single child, had at one point owned a sister.

Of course, in those times, many children were had by a single couple, and few were ever to survive to maturity. However, the language suggested to her something different- a sister old enough to apparently have thoughts on the world and the future. This journal page came early into her reign, several years before the founding of Equestria. As soon as she put the pieces together, she instantly became infatuated with this mystery sister Platinum had never again thought it wise to mention. It was unlikely she had done anything of note- it was even more unlikely it had been recorded, but it was enough to spur her on that the archives were incomplete. One of the most important figures to Equestrian history had a royal sister, and she could be the first to ever write on her.

However, this enthusiasm would be put out quickly by a lack of progress- as time went by and she realized just how alone her revelation was, the thought of the mystery sister largely left her head- until a few years after Starswirl's return, when she reunited with him after he concluded his trek around Equestria to see its changes. As it so happened, the Mage carried his own books on him and had taken some into the void on the faithful day he was erased from history. Most of these books had gone on to become famous among scholars, but Twilight took interest in a few- however, while she had many strong suits, Old Ponish was not one of them.

Thankfully, she had an expert on hand.

From the desk of Headmare Starlight Glimmer

I had no idea you'd send a letter this soon after leaving! Still, a part of me sees why you'd consider this so important. You're ten times the scholar I'll ever be, and even I found myself shaking with excitement as I read through these. There are a few bits I've cut out for posterity (and to lower the cost of mailing, you know how big and shoddy my hornwriting is), but I'll always have these clippings on my desk if you want the unabridged version when you get back. I look forward to hearing all the things a trained eye can gleam from this!

Here, I'll clip everything I've transcribed to this letter. Give Spike a Hi from me.

(These all have dates on them, but its a Pre-Celestia Calendar; It can be assumed each of these is only a few years apart. -S)

My sister was born today, in the same week a dear friend of mine was mauled by a beast he tried to flee from. In some ways, I'd say the former has greatly helped me get over the latter- its odd to admit it, but seeing both in such a short span has reminded me of how capricious life can be. I've already seen quite a few siblings of mine buried in shallow graves- I can only wish the best for this new occupant of the world. Welcome, Silver.

Her hair is a dull pink, like some brighter shade trying to escape soot. Her coat is her namesake, near reflective as soon as she came out, although I suspect this to be more the copious amounts of fluid she was covered in. Still, the name stuck, and I find myself with an heir to the throne should I die.

Royalty was far from my mind when I saw her for the first time. Her eyes met mine directly, open for only a second before scrunching shut again while the amniotic sac was licked off. I was never old enough to be present for one of these births before.

I hope I never have to be again. If this child survives, there will be little reason for another, especially as my mother's strength diminishes. The cold is harsh and uncaring. I pray Silver may overcome it.

A princess desperately needs frivolity in their lives- if not, I fear one may go mad.

I haven't seen fit to tell my sister of the duties I face as the upcoming heir, and my reluctance has made me realize how precious these few years will be, during which her only concerns will be who brings her food and how long her sister is gone.

I am convinced she loves me. It may sound silly, but I feared for a time I would not be able to treat her as she deserved, and I'm sure in that paranoia I may have pampered her those first few years. She'll be pampered even more when or if she's in my position- maybe its for the best I guide her to this life.

I do fear for the world she will be born into. It seems the Unicorn Tribe has never known a time of peace, and may not for many more generations, if ever. Worst still are my fears for the subjects who claim to love me- they tolerate my rule because I agree with them, but the same group that celebrated my coronation will inevitably celebrate my beheading. I can adapt to what they ask of me- but a sister raised under me is inevitable to echo the sentiments I repeat to them in private, my true thoughts on monarchy, the separation of the tribes, and what subjects want versus what they need.

My second greatest fear is that I will raise Silver wrongly. My greatest fear is that I will raise her correctly, and others will not be kind to her.

A good leader follows what is demanded of them.

Contrary to what I once believed, Silver does not only enjoy the luxuries of a royal life- she wishes to engage every bit as much as I do not. In a perfect world, we would pull some excellent joke where she takes my place for the day and we both learn some life lesson about how similar our lives are.

The Princess seldom knows contemporaneous reward; it is enough to possess the joy of knowing that what you cast into the future may someday, through one way or another, help a future generation. Even if it may be only a single individual, my sister and I have always behaved on the idea that the actions we take will leave ripples forever.

She understands this- perhaps better than I do. She wishes to take the tribe by its head and steer it in a new direction. She wishes to unify with the other tribes, and the worst part is I agree with her. It would be beneficial to all of us, and the dividing of labor may allow us to finally surpass these blizzards with flourish. The cold has stayed with us my entire life, and now it seems it may outlive us.

But what our subjects need is not what they want. If I wish to keep this family safe in these troubling times, I must be who they want me to be.

I have ignored my sister's advice thus far. I pray nothing happens to me which would put her in power- for her sake.

On the eve of a meeting between tribes, my sister has discovered my philosophy.

I've remained calm. I've told her everything I explain to this journal, these pages I bounce my own ideas off of to ensure I don't sound insane reading it back. And just as I expected, she thought me wrong.

I know the outcome of this meeting. I know our tribes will separate further. There has been talk of moving. I will agree to it- if I do not, I fear not only for the response to me, but the response to the rest of the tribes. I pray we will never see another Earth Pony or Pegasus again- maybe then, we can finally reach some modicum of peace.

So long as three species sharing a planet never meet, we may be safe.

I write it now, and I bounce the idea off myself, and I realize I am indeed insane.

But for the moment, I am safe, my sister is safe, and my tribe is safe.

I no longer feel like I am flinging a light into the future. I feel like I am struggling to keep the match lit one more day- and at the end of everything, my sister still thinks me worse than unfit to rule- she thinks I have failed her as family.

Winona (Applejack, Smolder; Comedy)

"A dragon. Yer kiddin me."

It was a marked point to the absurdity of Applejack's life that the revelation came only as an oddity to her.

"Yep. Dragon. Dra-gun. Which is why I'm not to fond of it... when you put your hands on me. I'm 17, sister." Smolder batted away with a paw the hand that had come again to instinctively try and scritch behind her ears.

The novelty of talking dogs had long since worn off, but Applejack still found herself unsure of how 'human' they were to be treated. Spike loved himself a belly rub and squirrel chase, but in his defense, he had been a dog his whole life. The newest circus act on holiday from Equestrian school- one run by Twilight, she had been surprised to discover- seemed significantly more uppity in that regard.

Ain't never heard of a dog that won't take food from a human's hands. Applejack thought to herself, glancing down at the plate she had brought out for her conversation with the orange huskie. Smolder was significantly larger than Spike, but held herself with the demeanor of a smoking teenage delinquent. Never heard of a dog that slouches this much either.

Sprawled out on the grass outside CHS, Applejack conducted vigorous scientific research, like asking what was up with that.

"Right, right, my bad." Applejack conceded the hand. "I reckon I wouldn't like much to be touched back there either. Shoot, the exchange rate tween worlds is a weird one, huh? Humans to ponies, dogs to dragons- How's the new body treating you?"

"Fit for a king." Smolder grunted. "I like the legs, like the fur." She scratched behind a floppy orange ear- with her foreleg. "Don't like having animal control called on me for not wearing a collar. You win some, you lose some."

"Sheesh, can't imagine being treated like a pet by the whole world over. What's bein' a dragon like?"

Smolder stood up finally, holding her chin high. "Strong, proud, regal. Which is great for every situation but friendship school." And slouched back to laying on her side. "But it had to be me- after all, I fit through the door. Dragons have a very slim range in their lives where that's possible."

"Generally a mite bigger?"

"Many mites."

Applejack's eyes glazed over as she chewed a blade of grass sticking out her lips. "Smolder... I doubt you know much about the portal, but I hope you don't mind theorizing with me a tad."

"Shoot- it'll be another twenty minutes before they realized I ditched class to get here." Smolder waved her on with a paw.

"See, we got ourselves a Twilight here too- and she's got herself a Spike. If I remember correctly, yours does too, right?"

"Hell yeah, he's a cool little dude. Why?"

"And you suppose you've got yourself another Smolder here too, right?" Applejack jabbed a thumb in her direction.

"Sure, that sounds right."

Applejack chewed contemplatively, bracing herself with her arm as she craned her neck to look at the statue.

"...How many layers down ya think that goes?"

For 7 days after, Applejack walked Equestria.

Plains became hills became woods became the harsh, unforgiving ashy landscapes that told her she had made it to the Dragon Lands. She stopped sporadically, generally grabbing the fruits of the land as sustenance, but otherwise made her path firm and true, streamlining it after the rumors she fished around for in the towns she visited that only became less frequent as she approached the edge of the map. Every other hour was walking, first a forced necessity to get herself used to a new four legged form, (1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, repeating in her head to prevent slipping until she could hum any song to that rhythm) then just to keep her eyes on the long road ahead. It felt right and natural in this form- her hooves hardened and sometimes cracked, but they were built to carry her over the rough terrain, nothing like her soft human soles. She found herself fond of them, almost wishing there was a compromise.

Walking was a dangerous matter. Ponies had learned to tame the natural, but not the supernatural- more than a few creatures figured her for a good meal. Applejack, for her part, was well versed by this point to fighting off the Equestrian, helped in no small part by her tenfold earth pony strength.

And it was lonely. She found herself missing her siblings and friends, and wondering just how much longer she had left on her path- wondering if the rumors she was following were true at all. She was looking for a needle in a haystack, after all.

And one day, she found it.

Face wrapped in rags, boots worn and dusty, Applejack trekked up the steep rock face, leaning in against the slope and freezing every time the ash and soot built up on it started to slide down. When finally she reached the top, pulling herself over and looking out from the peak of the mountain she had spent the better part of her day scaling, she found herself at the pitch black mouth mouth of a great cave.

Inwards she trekked, feeling how close she was to her goal on the back of her neck- because with each low grumble emanating from inside, a gust of hot air strong enough to blow a lesser woman off her feet blasted out, exhales from a beast that filled the room top to bottom with its scales.

And Applejack's outstretched hooves met it at the end of its snout, and two eyes amber as flame opened with a stare that pierced through to her bones.

It raised its head, skyrocketing above her and sneezing a gust of flame that briefly illuminated its clay brown scales and shining white underbelly. Its wings spread to span the entire cave, dwarfing the pony with barely a flick of its muscles. And from deep in its belly, the dragon whose full length she could not witness chuckled to itself.

"Whatever you have come for, you will not find it here." It boomed. "Whatever your quest may have been, my spotting you has rendered it so futile surely even you can find the humor in it. Let us not waste another second on this frivolity. Goodbye, Pony."

It didn't even bother to use its entire hand- two fingers crushed the air out of her lungs, long talons rubbing dangerously at her soft belly as she was spirited off the ground. Her head span from the heat and force as she crossed the distance to the dragon's slowly opening mouth, its forked tongue darting back and forth in its jaws, all lit by the bright orange light at the back of its throat.

Applejack scratched its chin.

The dragon froze, suddenly feeling tiny hooves rubbing the scales of its lower jaw. Its eyes jolted open.

"Attagirl, Winona." Applejack calmly approved. "Set me down."

Diligently, obediently, she was set back down on the floor, and the dragon's head sank to her level again. No longer towering imposingly, some part of it saw the pony that could reach its itches as deserving of a respect even it didn't understand.

Applejack moved her hooves, coming from the chin up to the end of the nose and then to just under the lips, scratching and stroking kindly and lovingly. She was no longer afraid of it- she knew how her pet ticked.

"Good girl, Winona." Applejack murmured, leaning in to set her head on the dragon's nose. "Who's a good girl?"

"Is it... me?" Winona's voice boomed.

"It's you."

The dragon grumbled, pleased with herself.

Wild Lyrabon III (Lyra, Bon Bon; Comedy)

"Bite me." Said Lyra.

"No." Bon Bon flatly refused.

That really should have been the end of the conversation, but of course it had to keep going.

The mare couple sat on a wooden floor in the center of an empty dining room. What had once been the table they sat at to eat was leaning against the wall in the corner. In lieu of it, the two were parked on the floorboards, one lying on their barrel and the other sitting up on crossed haunches. Their plates sat in front of them, and a strip of blue duct tape created an invisible barrier between the two of them.

Bon Bon was chained to the wall by a rusty shackle. Occasionally her hindleg would kick out of its own volition, straining against the chain despite her outward calmness as she dug into her plate of pasta.

"C'mooon." Lyra pleaded, twirling food on the end of her fork. "We can make it a sex thing if you want. Just a little love nip."

"We're not making it a sex thing." Bon Bon didn't look up from her plate.

"Then we can do it normally too! It's cool with me! I'll just lean over and you can give me a bite!"

"You do that and you're spending the night on the couch."

"Oh, I'm far past being scared of that one. You've been saying that since before the zombie thing happened." Lyra protested.

Bon Bon was, for lack of a better term, falling apart. Her coat was mangy and dirty, caked in mud and blood in various patches throughout. Her tail was hanging on by a prayer, while her mane was ratted and filled with various knots and twigs. She chewed tenderly, careful not to flick any food out through the hole in her cheek strands of skin strung across. And even despite how mangled it was at the joint, her hindleg continued to thrash like its own beast against the chain holding her back from Lyra.

"Its just so tough living like this, Bonnie." Lyra whined. "I just think it would be easier if we could both go through this together- you know, the same way. We could both haunt houses and jump out at people who walk by us. A little gumption and some time, we could start the apocalypse- then who's gonna care about taxes?"

"Lyra, I'm not making you a zombie." Bon Bon sighed.

"It's tough!" Lyra repeated. "First of all, you're legally dead. So my marital tax statuses only last until the end of the year."

"I can get a job. Go work one of the fields or farms." Bon Bon thought out loud.

"Bonnie, I'm not dumping you in a cornfield shackled to a plow for the entire afternoon. I can be the breadwinner!"

"Alright, alright," Bon Bon defensively soothed. "I'm just saying money doesn't have to be an issue. We can work around that one." She dipped her muzzle into the plate again, messily chewing.

"But the awkwardness, Bonnie!" Lyra threw her hooves up, levitating a wedding ring out from somewhere in her mane and holding it up for display. "I tell people I'm married, and then I say my spouse died, and then they have to offer their apologies, and then I'm like, 'no, actually, she's fine, she's just a little bitey now!' It's a whole thing."

"Is that your biggest problem? Is that really your biggest problem, Lyra?" Bon Bon raised an eyebrow, gesturing to her leg, which was beginning to make a concerning creaking sound.

Lyra set her fork down with a grimace. "Bonnie, I'm trying not to be unpleasant at dinner by bringing up the obvious problem I have here."

"Oh, hun..." The two scooched across the floor to the blue line, and Lyra pulled her wife up into a hug with their heads each on the others shoulders. "I know this is hard for you." Bon Bon soothed. "But we've gotten through worse. Remember the bugbear?"

"I really feel like you should get tax exemptions for that one, too." Lyra murmured.

"Dead people don't pay taxes!" She gently reminded Lyra. "I've got both of the universal constants! Hey. Hey, if you're feeling lonely out during the day, we can always find ways around that. Maybe you can muzzle me, or take my head around with you on a string, or something?"

"I don't like cutting you up." Lyra sniffed. "You have black gunk inside you instead of blood."

"No cutting, then. Chain me to a mobility scooter?"

Lyra chewed her lip. "That's a thought, albeit a weird and kind of awkward one. Could we just remove your teeth?"

"I'm not getting rid of my teeth."

"You were fine with using your stomach as a handbag, but removing your teeth is too far." Lyra pulled away with unimpressed half lidded eyes.

"I still like chewy candy." Lyra's wife defended. "Look, point is, we can figure it out. We'll be alright- Chin up, Lyra." Bon Bon rubbed her hoof across Lyra's back, leaving a light dark streak.

"Love you, Bonnie."

The two stayed in that position for a moment longer.

Bon Bon snarled and went for the neck. Lyra took her lower jaw in telekinesis, shoving her back away and watching her struggle with a loving smile before she eventually regained control and went limp in Lyra's grasp.

"Ah thught yuh'd take advantuge uh thot wun." Bon Bon admitted, watching her wife from where she hung in the air by her teeth.

"You said no biting. Relationships are built on trust."

"Luh ya too, Luhra."

Final Pay (Trixie; Slice Of Life/Comedy)

Limestone read the message again. And re-read it.

Nope. Still didn't make sense.

She looked up from the letter, one eyebrow raised. Trixie was still smiling excitedly, twitching as she sat in the dirt and gauged Limestone's reaction, as she had been doing for the past forty seconds now.

Forty seconds ago, she had walked up to Trixie with a small sack of her daily pay, and had been surprised to be greeted with a letter and the same smile she still wore now. Her obvious hesitation had not swayed Trixie's resolve in the slightest.

When she opened it, she had pulled out a front-and-back hoof-written page of scribbled out text, with only the last line on the back readable, squeezed into a corner under the black lines under which the faint remains of extravagantly written words could be made out;

'Would you like to go on a date? :)'

After the fifth re-read, Trixie's smile finally began to waver.

"You... You do know how to read, right?"

"What's this?"

"It's... It's an invitation! To spend more time with Trixie!"

"Why?"

Trixie sputtered, confusedly.

"To- be- because I like you! And I was wondering if we could go somewhere, whatever's nearby!"

Limestone cocked a head. Trixie had been working under her for about two months now, and this was her final day, according to Limestone's calculations. She had needed enough food, water, and accomodations for a multi-day long cross-country trip, and she had practically begged to help on the farm initially. Limestone had been hesitant, but one of her more level-headed sisters had pointed out that they were certainly understaffed without Pinkie.

So, they had let her on, and despite several days of griping and moaning and insistences on wearing her dum cape and hat, she had eventually fallen into a routine and learned not to complain.

Limestone had noticed her advances; as far as she knew, it was medically impossible for her to be subtle, and more than once she had pulled idiotic moves such as 'tripping' into her, and falling on top of her. She learned quickly that this was a bad idea, but still stayed undeterred her entire career.

And now, as she received her last paycheck courtesy of the Pie Family Farm, she was pulling a love letter.

Limestone considered her options, weighed the pros and the cons, and made her decision.

She pulled Trixie in, pulled off her hat, and planted a kiss on her lips, lasting a good minute before pulling back and reading the look of surprise on Trixie's face.

"No thank you. I'm not into girls."

And she walked back inside.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Rally Racing (Rainbow, Twilight; Adventure/Comedy)

"Forty, left two minus over crest-"

"I still don't know what that means, Twilight!"

"Doesn't matter anymore, Dash, you hit it."

"None of this would be a problem if they had just let me enter without a car! I could've finished this race ages ago."

"That would defeat the point of rally racing completely! It's not fair to the other racers to compete against a winged creature that can fly ten times the speed of sound!"

Twilight shook her pace notes and scrutinized them again, despite having analyzed them to the point of memorized recitation in the weeks leading up to the race. Rainbow shook her head and tried to push harder on the gas pedal.

The past year or so had been hectic, with two different governments from two different dimensions attempting to collaborate on the first ever power stage in a different world. Heads had been put to the test to try and throw together a last minute Equstria-stage for the final leg of the 2019 World Rally Championship, baffling nearly ever racer- save for the Equestrian entries themselves, of course.

After learning of the event from Twilights constant ramblings of Earth culture, Rainbow had been ecstatic at the thought of joining, picturing herself lapping cars twenty times over as they struggled to keep up in cars running through a rocky canyon. She later learned that this was by no means the case, for while she was certainly bull-headed enough to secure herself a spot in the otherwise entirely human roster, she quickly realized that she would not be let in without a car. After weeks of moaning and whining, she finally succumbed to the abiding of the most basic definition of a Motorsport and was let in as the first non-human racer. A lot of firsts were scored this year.

She also found out, peculiar enough, that cars were not measured by speedness and coolness, as she initially presumed, but by a term Twilight had almost seemed embarrassed to name, Horsepower. The bookworm had considered car models for a good day before settling on a cyan model pf Lancia Stratos that would not be released to the public until 2020, correctly assuming Dash would enjoy it after a quick paint job of rainbow stripes running along the sides and hood. Several aggravating papers and meetings later, they had secured a spot in the race and learned that the Equestrian power stage was to be held in the streets of Canterlot come November 14, after the previous location was cancelled due to brush fires. This left a handy open slot for the race Celestia was more than happy to accept, and with Twilight as her co-pilot, Dash felt she was more than ready to take on the race.

She was not.

"Ok, in 400 yards you'll have to hang a tight-"

"When will that be?"

"Now."

Dash used both forelegs and wings to turn the wheel, nearly wrenching it off in the process. Without looking up from her notes, Twilight levitated a screwdriver into position and screwed the wheel in tighter.

"I told you you were going to have to study the pace notes I made, which I did months in advance!"

"I had a lot to do! I had to learn what the pace notes meant, I had to learn to drive this car-!"

"You still haven't, far as I can tell."

"I had to learn their weird human script! What's up with that? We share a spoken language but not a written one?"

"I think that's a Rarity For You we just sped by."

"Oh, really? Mark the map, we'll come back later."

"This isn't a map Dash, it's a line of code I had to learn."

"That's stupid. Just mark a line on a map, it'll save you a lot of trouble."

"That's not everything on here! These notes tell you what the terrains like, the exact location of every bump and turn, every little thing that may pose a challenge! For example, in 20 yards there's a smooth- *RAINBOW WATCH THE ROAD NOT ME-!"*

The car turned at the last second, failing to save itself from a rough barrel roll into a barricade, miraculously landing back on the wheels. They sat in their seats, stunned for a second before Twilight flared her wings out and started yelling again.

"WE'RE GOOD! THERES NO PROBLEM! DRIVE! GET YOUR REAR IN GEAR!"

Dash slammed on the gas and managed to clip three more buildings as they sped past.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

Crusader (Flurry Heart; Slice Of Life)

One of the benefits of living in a city made entirely out of crystals was the absolutely stunning light show every sunset; when the sky began to close its eye and sink into a deep sleep, the light reflected through each and every building, street, and pony, bathing the city in rays of blue, green, and octarine. To the everyday citizen, it became rather mundane eventually, but to someone raised in a farm town her whole life, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Scootaloo smiled, taking another lick of her blue popsicle and waving her legs back and forth under the ledge she sat on. Flurry Heart followed suit, a little miffed overall by the light in her eyes but still taking time to enjoy it.

"This is delicious. What flavour is it?"

"Sea salt. Me and my friends used to have these every summer and just lounge around the clubhouse, too pooped to do anything." She chuckled at the reminiscing.

"The Crusaders?"

"Yep, that was us. The best days of my life, but I would not relive that stress if I was being paid. But I suppose you'd know a few things about stress, huh?"

Flurry sighed, looking down to the streets hundreds of feet below them. Under them, ponies wrapped up their day, coming home from work to their families. A few watched the sunset with them.

"My Princess duties don't start until I'm of age. Mom wouldn't give me control of a country where I am now."

"Still, everyone's stressed about something. Growing up is hard to do, but one of the good parts is looking back and realising that your childhood vexes weren't actually that bad. Speaking of which, if you've got a cutie mark problem, believe me I'm your mare."

"I don't. I know it's going to be a crown, or the crystal heart, or something like that."

"With that attitude it will be. Ponies are going to beat you senseless with how important that little mark is, but it really doesn't define you at all. If it did, Celestia would probably have a Tailia mask on her rump." She laughed at the mental image.

"I suppose you're right. I guess my only real concern is the future; a whole kingdom is nothing to scoff at, and from someone as forgetful and absent-minded as me? I'm going to end up leading us into war."

"Maybe so. But you know what? That's then. You're gonna have many more moons before you take the throne, and if you can be the only one in the room not sweating it, that's a pretty cool accomplishment. For now, though?"

Scootaloo pondered her thoughts, flipping her popsicle upside down as she did and watching a single drop poke it's way down, cling to the end for a second before falling to the ground far below. Finally, she began gesticulating, trying to help her words.

"Another part of growing up, and this is one a lot of ponies don't understand, is asking yourself, 'What do I wish I had as a kid?' And then making sure nobody else has to grow up without that, instead of bragging about how you had it worse in your day like some old boomer in a generational pain contest. You know what I wish I had as a kid?"

Flurry looked up at her. "What?"

Scootaloo smiled back, touseling her hair.

I wish I had someone to tell me to take it easy. Youll have a lot to worry about when your grow up, but now? You can be aimless, and make mistakes, and learn, and be free. You can be a kid, and nobody will judge you for it. So focus on the now, and enjoy yourself, because soon enough you won't be able to do that anymore. If you don't mess around now, you're going to regret it on the future, and wind up old and cranky, like that guy."

She pointed down at an elderly crystal pony sitting on a chair in his lawn. Flurry laughed a little, licking her ice cream again, and looked back up at the sunset.

It really was beautiful.

Author's Note

The picture that prompted it

What: Circulation (Apple Tiara; Comedy)

I really, truly have no clue what I was on with this one.

"I hate you."

"Who?" Apple Bloom looked up from the ball she was bouncing at the sudden declaration.

"You." She replied.

"Me?" Diamond Tiara looked up from the Apple Bloom she was insulting at the sudden declaration.

"Of course." Apple Bloom responded.

"That's rich coming from the rich kid," I shot back.

"I don't have to take this from a dirty Blank Flank." Diamond Tiara replied, very confused as to how she said , out loud.

"I am not a Blank Flank!" Diamond Tiara practically yelled back, suddenly wanting this conversation to be over.

"I never said you were!" .- .--. .--. .-.. . - .. .- .-. .- screamed.

"Blaaank Flaaank!" She sang. She was somewhere between orange and purple, but she didn't think there was a word for it.

"I'm telling the teacher!" You cried, existentially terrified by the horrifying change in perspective.

"Tattle-tail" She called after I without any particularly strong feelings one way or another that might warrant punctuation.

Go die.

Milkmaid (Limestone, Luna; Comedy)

"Milk today!"

Limestone raised an eyebrow at the tall mare on her door, happily smiling down at her under her woolen bonnet. Two saddlebags of milk bottles sat at her side, lightly jostling as their deliverer practically vibrated in glee.

"You're not the usual milkmare."

"I told her I'd cover for this week! Gave her a very hefty wage to not tell anyone."

"But... Why?"

"Because I wanted to!"

Something about the blue wavy haired mane with the metal crescent moon bib and name tag attached to her collar that clearly read 'Hello, my name is Princess Luna' seemed familiar, almost reminding her of someone, but she couldn't place a hoof on it. Limestone sighed.

"Yeah, alright. Just pass it here."

The milkmare obliged, before bounding past her into the farmhouse. Limestone's brow expertly furrowed.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

"I gotta milk the cows! That's what milkmares do!"

"No, you're thinking of... Um... Milkmares... Wait, no there's a difference... One delivers milk, and one actually milks milk... Argh..."

Limestone beat her head against the wooden doorframe, carving an indent. The milkmare continued to bound on, stopping to give Marble a quick pat on the head as she got up from breakfast before continuing out the back door and onto their land.

---*---

"I think I would really prefer if I did that."

"Don't worry, I know how to do this. I've been watching your dreams. Kinda weird how you dream of doing your day work, by the way."

The milkmare whistled offkey as she worked, only serving to irritate Limestone further.

"You can see my dreams?"

"What good milkmare can't? Hey, want to know something else I can do?"
Limestone mentally prepared for a pun, or something similar.

"What?"

"I've never told anyone this, but I have the power to see reality as well, not just dreams. Little known fact, tell your friends."

Limestone pursed her lips angrily as the milkmare continued, occasionally muttering jubilantly under her breath 'the greatest' or 'Omukuma'.

---*---

"Well, I'll see myself out. Thank you for having me!"

"Thank you for dutifully working and not once trying to hit on me. You're already better than the last blue girl we had working here." Limestone grumbled.

The milkmare trotted off, and Limestone picked up the saddlebags she had left. One seemed much heavier than the other, and upon inspecting inside, she found a small pouch with a single silver bar inside marked with the lunar crest and a smiley face drawn on the outside of the pouch with marker.

Limestone groaned, picking up the gift and biting into it as she watched the milkmare leave.

O Brown World (Tempest Shadow, Sunset Shimmer; AU, Tragedy)

Sunset Shimmer sat at the crooked beak shaped end of an airship drifting through polluted clouds. Her hindlegs dangled over the canyons below they drifted over, idly strumming an acoustic guitar, looking for a usable tune.

She had been pleasantly surprised to find these still existed in this strange green world. Little memories remained of her time as a human, despite encompassing a good 16 years or so of her life, but guitar was certainly a skill she retained all memory of fostering; fingers growing coarser as she thoughtlessly exerted their dexterity, passing them over string after string in search of a melody.

Fingers were the first thing she noticed missing from her new form, when she woke up in a box abandoned in a back alley.

It had all been downhill from there.

"Eyes up, Shimmer. We've almost met our destination."

Her eyes narrowed as she heard a distinct metallic clicking behind her, clanging as armored hooves approached. She turned to see a peytral clad chest held high, blue eyes squinted in the sun, yet still unmistakably filled with a sickeningly genuine glee and excitement. The soldier's underlings boiled and choked in the heat and smog they themselves worked to generate from engines below, and here she stood, poisoned half to death and still smiling at the white light on the horizon.

Unicorns were a rare find this far out from the shining utopian jewel of the planet. Their horns were valued, and as a result they tended not to survive for very long straying from where their princesses protected them. When Tempest's plan had become clear, Sunset had spitefully wished for it to fail; for both of them to die far from anyone who could care. Yet here they were, months later, and two more had been found, abducted from as many parts of the world Tempest could tear apart without returning to where it began, where the species thrived.

What a joy it had been to be thrust into the body of a species that could spin magic like silk, far from any security that could be offered to her.

What an honor.

Making up for something, Tempest?

"If your big Storm Boss finds out about your secret little project, I won't be keeping my lips shut." Sunset blithely offered.

Tempest laughed, taking a swig from the canteen hanging from her neck. It was a detestable, disgusting noise, forced up from the throat like an alien parasite.

"Keep your pretty little optimism up, Shimmer. Get ready for touch down; be nice to plant your hooves on the earth again, wouldn't it?"

Sunset didn't glorify her with a reply. She returned to her guitar, strumming notes to see what could distract her. Tempest's good mood didn't sway, and she began marching away, calling out to those on the deck around her.

"Men, find a spot to dock and clench your asses. I'll be getting the other cogs in the machine."

"Don't... Don't get it... When I put my boots on, and walk, I go clickaclickaclick... Then when I run with my boots on, I go cloppacloppaclop... But none of that happens without my boots!"

One of the shaggy beasts on board whined from under his helmet drunkenly to the drinking buddy he had found himself. She gave him a mock sympathetic pat, stroking along the fur on his hunched back before she offered an retort.

"Have you considered that you might be a reindeer?"

"Reindeer?"

"Sure! Reindeer also go clickaclickaclick when they walk, and cloppacloppaclop when they run. It's possible you've been a reindeer this whole time, and keep forgetting when you're sober. Don't worry though, I have a plan to keep you from forgetting."

She took a scrap of paper from her saddlebags and a quill, and wrote in large, flowery letters-

BUCK ME

A strip of tape, and it was slapped to the guard's back.

"There! Now when you sober up, you'll see it and remember that you're a buck!"

The guard grunted his appreciation, before sliding off the barstool and collapsing.

"Sweet dreams, friend."

Tempest came upon this scene as she pushed through guards to reach the lower deck, the one spot in the ship crew could flock to on breaks. There, at a haphazardly crafted bar with posters and street signs slapped over the back walls, a light purple unicorn turned to her, blindingly white eyes washing magic light over her. Starlight chuckled, head rolling about on its neck as she stumbled to her feet.

The second unicorn discovered had been tracked down to a rocky quagmire on the outskirts of Equestria, the closest they had ever come to actually entering its borders. Her discovery had been a complete accident, but it was hard to miss a mess of fur rambling to nobody as it shuffled through the desert. She had been plucked from the ground floor, and given well over two weeks to recover from her fit, convulsing and screaming all the while.

When she finally calmed down, little about her made itself clear. All that was known was that she had come from a small town in Equestria, and fled after something happened; something magical, and powerful. She exuded dark magic like radiation, seeping out from her every pore, and still occasionally fell into a dissociative state, seared white eyes burning brightly as she stared into space, afterwards brushing it off as a courtesy call from an old friend of hers. She spoke greatly of this old friend, how he lived in her head, a soul forcibly divorced from its body and desperately trying to escape the one it now inhabited. These fits were half of her day to day life now, the other half spent doing work given to her and shedding her restlessness and frustration upon any who came too close to her.

"Commander. Good to see you showing your ass down here, to a room that hates you and can't do anything about it." Starlight spat, grinning.

"Always nice to have fans. Say, Starlight, we're getting awfully close to releasing you. I've got one more job for you; we've withheld it from you this far, but it's gonna take every unicorn on deck. Pull through for me, and you're a free woman." Tempest wrapped a foreleg around Starlight's neck, smiling like a used car salesman to her.

"All unicorns, you say? You've still got Trixie on your side? She hasn't offed herself yet?"

"Trixie does what I ask of her. And so will you; if you don't want to be freed after this, that's quite alright by me, but you're coming outside with me. How's it sound, buddy?"

"Like indentured servitude, but I guess that's all I've been to you since you pulled me onboard, so I'll do it."

"Head up top. I got another stop to make before I'm up with you. Say hi to Sunset; you two seem to get along."

A metal door creaked as it swung open. All lights were off in the room it led to. The beam of light from outside fell upon a huddled form on a mattress underneath star patterned blankets. Above the mattress, pinned to the wall, a large poster for a magic show sat, several months old, with a blue mare taking center stage, seductively staring out whilst holding a crystal ball. Dust was collecting on the poster, untouched for weeks, perhaps longer. Churning sounded from machinery lining the walls of the room.

"Up and at em, Trixie, your old pal's here. You're needed back in the sunlight, assuming it won't turn you to dust."

The form stirred, rising from under the covers and turning to the light. A meek and ragged unicorn stared through eyes flooded with blood. She was a shadow of the confident woman in the poster above her, a wretched reflection.

"...Tempest?"

The third unicorn had been found in an isolated town in Yakyakistan, a travelling performer who sought to bring magic and wonder wherever she went.

Tempest had kidnapped her without a second thought.

And yet, she didn't falter. Her spirits kept up, and with every show she put on for the crewmates she worked with, so too did theirs. Even Tempest was happy, a real happy, a genuine happy brought about by the unicorn she deemed her closest pal.

Nobody knew what happened, what forged a gap between them. That lay between Tempest, Trixie, and the blazing hot poker driven into each of the latter's eyes.

Trixie died that day, and the crew fell silent. All that remained was the cadaver, the scared, half-blind girl who worked in the deepest and most sweltering engines of the airship.

"I've got a job for you, buddy. You remember the reason you came on here? You remember when you were so happy, so sympathetic, so willing to help? Need you to tap into that again, old friend. That's all I ask, then the show's back on for you again!"

Trixie didn't respond. Her inky black eyes bore holes into Tempest's forehead.

"Whenever you're ready, just come up on the deck. Cheer up pal, I still believe in you."

The door shut, and Trixie was enclosed in darkness.

She stared at the closed door for a long time.

The sun had just begun to fall under the horizon as the four gathered at the bow of the ship, staring out upon the green below them. The entire canyon flourished, flora climbing its mass, and as they rose above the clouds it became clear that the canyon was only the base. All of it rose into the sky, culminating in a disc shaped plateau, covered in flowers and grass. A great tree stood at the center, branches rising into the sky, seeming to support the very heavens and keep them from crashing into the earth.

Tempest's airship climbed to reach the lip of this great plateau. The four gathered waited patiently, rapping sounding out from speakers placed upon the airship's hull, sounding out over the entire land.

"How many people do you think have died on one of these?" Starlight cheerfully brought up.

Bless the universal truth of Dadaism between worlds.

"I count two just from where I'm standing." Sunset replied.

"Nah, I don't feel like dying yet. It's not all it's cracked up to be." Starlight shook her head.

"Who cracks up dying?"

"How long have you worked here?"

Sunset considered asking the question she had pondered for a while. She and Starlight were far from friends, but they understood each other. Was that enough?

"So whose your friend?" Only live once, why not.

"The guy in my head you mean? Old childhood buddy." Starlight didn't seem too bothered by the inquiry. "His name's Sunburst, and that's all you need to know."

"What's he doing in your head?"

"Screaming, mostly. He's not too fond of his situation, and frankly I don't blame him. I just wish he slept at a reasonable hour."

Sunset dropped it, turning instead to the unicorn lying on her barrel, staring out at the clouds the aircraft generated.

"Speaking of screaming, Did you hear what Trixie and Tempest were screaming about when it happened?"

"Sure didn't, but someone had to. Hard to be alone nowadays, unless you lock yourself in a boiler room like her."

"Poor girl. Nobody deserves that."

"I count one just from where I'm standing."

Both turned to Tempest, content to seethe in a mutual hatred.

The rumble of machinery around them blotted out the distant approaching sounds. The smoke blotted out the dots on the horizon.

The four unicorns gathered on the tippy top of the plateau. Tempest stood at the very center, at the base of the great tree, circling it and calling to the only three who could hear her over the machinery of the airship hovering by them. The remaining three stood sparsed out equal distances from each other, standing in the barrel high grass, facing inwards.

"Ladies, our time has come. In mere minutes, midnight will fall, and the Secretariat Comet will pass over Yggdrasil Plateau. When it does, our magical power will wax to its highest. What once required ten unicorns will now only require four; and even then, we now have that power with only three, thanks to the soul residing within our dear Starlight."

The moon was high by this point. Winds swept through the grasses they stood on, mysteriously becoming more powerful by the second.

"In mere minutes, you three shall cast one of the most powerful spell known to ponies; the restoring of the horn! My power will be regained, my thaumic field healed, and all of you shall be released!"

Lights swept over Yggdrasil Plateau. The other three curiously looked up to the sky.

"Let your power seap forth! Draw from the inherent magic of the very planet! Draw, and heal me! Draw, and-"

COMMANDER TEMPEST SHADOW.

Tempest looked up in fear. Airships gathered around the plateau, spotlights blazing down at her. Each was twice the size of her own, some even larger. They blotted out the night sky as they swarmed around them, each with hundreds of weapons and lights trained carefully on them.

YOU HAVE INITIATED AN UNAUTHORIZED MISSION, USING STORM EMPIRE RESOURCES FOR YOUR OWN GAIN. YOU WILL STAND DOWN AND REPORT TO THE STORM KING IMMEDIATELY, OR BE-

"PISS OFF!" She screamed at the flocks, growing more frantic as the winds rose. "I'M NOT GIVING UP NOW! THE STORM KING JUST WANTS TO KEEP HIS BARGANING CHIP! I COULD MURDER HIM! DON'T TRY TO STOP ME!"

The lights turned from white to yellow as something more powerful overtook them. All present looked up to see the streaking comet tail approaching them.

"NOW! WE HAVE TO DO IT NOW! DO IT!"

Three horns flared up at once as the comet reached its apex. The grass and flowers began to melt down as magic was drawn from the thaumic atmosphere around them. All three struggled to keep their balance as more power than they had ever experienced before swept through their veins and minds. The plateau began to redden, then turn a dusty brown as all plant life was slaughtered atop it.

OPEN FIR-

A beam of magic erupted from what remained of Tempest's horn. The octarine fire climbed the heavens, decimating the tree that supported it, and the entire plateau shifted. A crevice formed as it split in two, bottomless crack pulling it apart. The canyons around them were deprived of all life as the entire planet seemed to die, and the magical explosion rocked all nearby airships. The ones that stayed on course opened fire, guns raining down, first upon the airship they arrived in to prevent escape. The balloon punctured and the ship caught fire as it began to careen into the plateau.

Trixie turned around despite the pain and power running through her, teeth gritting and eyes widening as she saw two blurry airships shifting and separating into each other through the ocean of blood that flooded her vision every moment.

She broke concentration in a vain attempt to escape.

The spell shattered, and Tempest howled and shrieked in pain, almost enough to drown out Trixie's own as the Airship detonated feet from her, tossing her through the air.

Tempest and Starlight were furthest from the blast, both turning soot black as they toppled over the edge. Both lost consciousness as they began to roll down the face, into the dead world they themselves had created.

Sunset ran through the hail of fiery debris, desperate to escape. The sky was alight and blazing, airships still falling from the sky or retreating.

Something came down on her, hard. She felt her leg crunch, and blacked out not soon after, not knowing if she would wake.

Her last thoughts were hoping beyond hope that Tempest had perished.

Tempest woke up. Her hoof immediately went to her horn, feeling at the stump, and cursing to the dry and dead land surrounding her.

Starlight's charred body came to a few feet from her, looking out upon the canyons they had cleared, some part of her mind still begging and screaming as it always had. She took solace in the sobs, letting it ground her, and finally rising.

"Tempest? Is that you?" She spoke.

Tempest stopped cursing, taking raggedy breaths as she stared at the ground, eyes blazing with hellfire.

"We'll do it again."

"What?"

"We'll do it again. I don't care how long it takes. I don't care if we kill the entire planet, and devour all magic left. I'm going to get my horn back, and nobody can stop me."

She laughed maniacally, burying her face in her hooves.

"Even if we're the last living souls, all alone. It's going to happen. Nobody can stop me.

Nobody can stop me."

Author's Note

The picture that inspired it

Botify and Sever (Sweetie Belle, Rarity; Comedy, Slice of Life) (God I'm so tired of typing Comedy and Slice of Life)

"Should you be conscious for this, darling?"

"I feel like these are questions we should've asked before we started."

Sweetie sat open on a sewing table, scorched black. Various mechanical parts, flowered glasses filled with murky black liquids, books with Golden Oaks stamps on the covers and barcodes on the backs, and breadboards sloppily plugged into the prone bot lay scattered on, around, and occasionally inside her, completely paralyzed from the neck down as a seamstress with a marksman's ability diligently worked on her with all the excitement and can-do attitude of a stay at home big sister drafting her little sister into bonding activities, and the technological know-how of one, too.

"They didn't cover this on youtube." Rarity gritted her teeth as she threaded dollar store-bought wires into the breadboard.

"We might be government experiments? I'm not sure." Sweetie pondered, exposed voicebox lighting up as she did.

"Well, you're not doing a very good job of keeping concealed."

"I never said it was a secret government experiment, like something out of Maximum Ride. The princesses are very open about the experiments they commit, mostly because it's difficult to convey the ramifications of those experiments to the general public when the papers describing them use 'friendship', 'love', or 'ChIA-PET sequencing' every third sentence. They're like the opposite of a fnord."

Rarity tsked, curiously attempting to use a needle in place of a wire between two close ports. "Well, it's still no reason to set the school on fire, as if you're not banned from enough at school already."

"Me and that kirin student were the most likely to survive fire. We had to see if it was possible, and we made the dutiful sacrifice in the name of science." Sweetie protested, head rattling about on her neck.

"Invulnerability isn't an excuse."

"I'm not invulnerable, sis; no sapient robots are. The average life expectancy for one of them is around 7 years, because they keep getting blown up. This discludes their rebuilds and clones, of course."

Rarity looked up curiously, barely avoiding getting singed by an angry spark as she did. "Then why does it keep happening? Shouldn't they be smart enough to be aware of these statistics?"

"They all think they're going to be the exception."

"Like you?"

"Sapiency and the intelligence of a computer often comes with the stupidity and confidence of a pony."

"Do all robots respond to questions they don't want to answer with vagueness?"

"Depends on the robot. Some simply wait until they have the sufficient information to answer it, which can take anywhere from two weeks to two years, depending on how long it takes for a scientist to walk in front of them and talk out loud. Some build smarter robots."

"How do you build something smarter than you?" Rarity quickly pulled Opal out of her sister's chest as she made a grab for attention.

"That question explains some things about your technological know-how. Like why you entered me into the school's Go playing club." Sweetie spoke with a twinge of concealed passive aggressiveness, like how a splinter of mulch conceals the river it floats in.

"I never claimed to be a Dr. Wakeman. You know you're adorable talking about all this, right?" Rarity reached for her sister's head, gently patting her cheek.

"Am I ever not to you?" She shot back, squirming away from her sister's grasp as best she could.

"Nope." Rarity replied cheerfully.

Sweetie grumbled, quickly trying to change the subject. "Most sapient robots, however, just respond to questions they can't answer with 'You know, I really have to google that sometime.'"

"What separates them?"

"You know, I really have to google that sometime." An exact recording of her earlier words looped.

Rarity pulled out of her work, chased by another angry spark, then an apologetic spark, then a guilty spark. Sighing from the exertion, she reached for one of her fine glasses.

"That's filled with oil."

"So it is. You don't drink this, right?" She swiftly put the glass down, and Sweetie silently lamented the missed opportunity to see her sister drink oil.

"I feel like I'm experiencing a microaggression." She spoke, staring off into space dumbfoundedly.

"How does a girl your age know all these big words?"

"You didn't at your age?"

"Of course not."

Sweetie scoffed. "And next you'll tell me you didn't know how to calibrate your eyes at my age."

"Point made."

"I seem to be making a lot of those, which is weird since you're the one sticking needles inside me."

Rarity scrunched her muzzle, miffed, before melting into a smile and gently patting one of Sweetie's disembodied legs.

"You're still grounded, by the way."

"I'm a being beyond anything you could ever hope to be." Sweetie yowled childishly.

"Keep talking and you'll get grounded for longer."

"I forfeit this entire conversation."

Author's Note

The picture that (partly) inspired it