The door to the boutique flung open and Rarity came strolling inside. “Ah, another wonderful Hearth’s Warming, come and gone,” she remarked with wistful delight as she shed the red coat she had been wearing. She toted along a big bag which carried the presents she had received from her friends, although it had been much fuller at the start of the holiday when she went into town with her bevy of gifts, ready to hand them out to all manner of acquaintances. Another pony might have felt dejected by the knowledge that they had given up so much more than they had been given, but to Rarity that was just the nature of the holiday, to offer as much as she could. The heartfelt thanks and smiles which she got in turn were more than enough for her, to keep her heart warm. She pressed her palm over her chest, the plush softness of her bosom, and felt the steady beat of her heart. Her fingers tapped against the sapphire necklace which hung just over her sternum.

“Now how shall we occupy the remainder of our time for this evening?” she mused aloud, tapping at her chin. She set down the bag of presents by the door; she could have occupied herself with investigating them further—the fashion catalog Twilight Sparkle had given her had been an enticing acquisition—but she felt that that wasn’t especially vital when it could be done at any time. She turned and looked back out through the windows at the wintry landscape outside, snow littering the streets and yards of Ponyville, a scant few ponies still enjoying themselves in the final minutes before dusk fully settled over the land. It was tempting to take a little stroll herself, but it was just so much work to go out and about while bundled up in bulky clothes, the sort which even she could only do so much to make fancy. She turned back toward the interior of the building, pondering if there were any fashion designs lurking within her mind which she could churn out some work on.

And then she stopped in place. There was something sitting upon the boutique’s front desk, something which she was certain had not been there before she left. It was a small boxy shape that could only possibly be a present, wrapped in red and white and green. There was a tag on it, and she saw that the only words written on it were “For Rarity.” “Ooh…a secret gift? From an admirer perhaps?” she murmured, lips curling into a smile. For the time being, she didn’t consider the question of how it had ended up inside the building while it should have been locked up. She picked up the package, which fit neatly in her palm, and in doing so discovered that it was remarkably lightweight, with no sounds produced by it when it shifted about in her grasp. “Hmm, strange,” she commented, though that wasn’t enough to discourage her from peeling apart the ribbon and wrapping paper and opening up the box which was contained inside.

There was nothing inside.

The box was empty.

Rarity’s smile faded, her brow furrowing. She turned the box around, peered at every surface and corner, reread the tag, even doublechecked the wrapping paper. All her searching turned up nothing of note. The gift truly was nothing.

Once again, another pony may have found this incredibly disheartening. To receive a surprise gift only to discover that it actually wasn’t anything at all didn’t offer much in positivity. At best, it was an accident, and the giver had neglected to include whatever they meant to offer, which surely spoke to some incredible thoughtlessness on their part. At worst, it would have to be some form of cruel prank.

But Rarity was not like most ponies. Rarity was an artist. She understood that there were sometimes deeper meanings than merely that which was visible on the surface.

“A gift…of nothing,” she whispered to herself, deep in thought. She absentmindedly tapped at the necklace resting on her chest.

And then, after a few moments of this, her eyes lit up all at once, and she gasped. “Oh, of course!” she cried, slapping a palm against her head as if the answer should have been obvious all along. “I don’t need anything else! I don’t need any more gifts!” She looked down at herself, and she traced her hands over her chest and stomach and thighs. “I have everything that I need right here. And I should let everypony know that.”

She brusquely removed her blouse.

Shortly thereafter, Rarity was strolling naked through the streets of Ponyville.

The unicorn mare moved with the utmost purpose and not the slightest hint of discomfort—neither for the scene which she was creating nor for the cold which suffused the air all around her. Her gait was proud and refined, that of a model strutting down a runway, one leg in front of the other in a steady rhythm, hips and thighs swaying from one side to the other, corkscrew tail swishing over her plump rear. The curls of her mane bobbed, unrestrained, with every step, as did her pert, round breasts, purple areoles plainly visible through the fine layer of alabaster fur. Her necklace, the only remaining article on her, dangled tantalizingly just above her cleavage.

Having devoted her whole life to fashion, Rarity knew that there were certain tenets worth adhering to, and one of them was the simple notion that, sometimes, less was more. She didn’t know how it had taken her this long to consider the value of nothing. It was plain, perhaps, even mundane, the exact opposite of what she typically strove for, but it meant making a statement of herself in her purest form, and she certainly believed that she had gone to great lengths to make herself the pinnacle of beauty, to craft a form that was appealing to those around her.

She assumed that that was the kind of response she was getting from the ponies whom she passed by. There was not a single pony who did not stare at her, in awe, at least briefly. Some quickly proceeded to turn away (especially parents who had to shepherd their bewildered foals away). Others were more vocally pleased by this demonstration—she heard a few catcalls as she turned one corner. More than a few, though, simply continued to stare, dumbfounded.

Rarity smiled as she felt that warmth welling in her chest again in spite of the winter chill. She was more than willing to offer herself up to her friends and neighbors, even if only a few truly appreciated the gift, no matter what the cost may be.

“Rarity?!”

She turned when she heard the familiar southern twang of the voice calling to her, and she saw another group of awestruck ponies, but these were some who held particular importance to her. “Oh, good evening, girls!” she called out gaily, waving one hand, “What brings you here?”

“Rarity, what the hay’re you doin’ paradin’ yourself about in your birthday suit?! In the middle o’ winter no less!” Applejack interjected sternly. The farmhand was decidedly not one of those ponies petrified into stillness, coming striding across the street to face her directly. Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash followed behind her—the latter very clearly staring straight at the unicorn’s chest, and the former bouncing with every step, as carefree as ever. All three, of course, were far more sensibly clothed for the weather.

Rarity huffed and rolled her eyes; she knew that Applejack, the most blunt and bullheaded of all ponies, wasn’t going to just understand something like this so easily. “It’s a statement, darling,” she replied coolly, placing her hands on her hips. “I am presenting myself to the world so that all may bask in my beauty.”

“The only ‘statement’ you’re gonna be makin’ when you get arrested for this is ‘public indecency!’” Applejack glanced furtively about and seemed to try to position herself in such a way as to shield Rarity from bystanders’ view, but it was a futile effort. It was especially difficult given that Rarity actively shifted herself so that she continued to be on display, her breasts and buttocks pointing in opposite directions so that they couldn’t both be fully concealed.

“Maybe she’ll have to take an insanity plea,” Rainbow Dash muttered, “you’ve gotta be crazy to not go out bundled up in this weather.”

“Aw, come on, don’t be that way,” Pinkie Pie said, clapping the pegasus on the shoulder, smiling, “If Rarity decides that she wants to be a nudist then that’s up to her. I think it’s real brave of her to do this when it’s so cold out! Maybe she can use her nipples to cut some gems!”

“Pinkie!” Applejack snapped back over her shoulder.

“D’you think I should go tell the others about this so they can have a chance to see for themselves before Rarity stops being nuts?” Rainbow Dash asked in a low whisper.

“Consarnit, we need ponies to not see her!”

But while Applejack was distracted with her bickering, Rarity shirked away from them. “Hmm…I suppose this isn’t really enough, is it?” she muttered under her breath.

“Rarity…!” Applejack turned back to her, exasperated. She seemed for a moment to falter, staring downward, before settling on a proper gaze. “We’re just tryin’ to look out for you here. Now let’s get you inside somewhere so you can—”

“I thought I wouldn’t need to resort to this,” Rarity continued, heedless of the other mare following her. She delicately caressed her necklace. “But it is necessary, isn’t it? I must bare everything.”

“Rares, c’mon, you can’t keep—”

But when Applejack reached for Rarity, she lurched out of the way. With unnatural, contorting movements, twisting around and over herself, she clambered up a nearby streetlamp until she was perched at the top, straddling the metal between her thighs. She looked down at them, the ponies she had known, the world she had known, and she breathed a heavy sigh and slowly put on a smile. “I know it may seem strange to you,” she called to them, “but I promise that I only want you to experience my true beauty.”

And then she undid the clasp on the golden chain and removed the necklace which she had worn for as long as anypony had known her.

Like a blooming flower, Rarity’s body unfurled and billowed outward, rising toward the heavens and spreading outward, a colossal mass of shimmering white, a canopy of appendages and extremities spreading over the town.

“Sweet mother of…” Applejack gasped breathlessly while staggering backward.

Rainbow Dash was screaming.

“Ohhh, now it makes sense,” Pinkie Pie remarked plainly, and she cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted, “I dig the tentacles!”

The Rarity-thing rumbled thunderously with what might have been laughter before her marshmallow flesh descended upon the world in a living avalanche, the greatest gift that any pony would ever know.

Author's Note

There had only been six official prompts, but I felt like doing one more on a whim. This one had also been on the vague side, but it gave me particular ideas and I only went a little off the rails.

How much ultra-conspicuous foreshadowing can there be?

Rarithulu bequeaths unfathomable fashion to the world.

This story was a prompt suggested and voted for by my supporters on Patreon. Consider pledging your support if you enjoy my work and would be interested in participating in these selections in the future.

I also have a Ko-Fi for one-time donations.