A place to store all my scrapped stories, as well as ficlets that didn't make the 1000min word limit
A place to store all my scrapped stories and ficlets that didn't make the 1000min word limit. I might continue some of these in the future, but for now, I'm posting them here in case anyone is interested.
Possesion (Demon AU/ Human / T-Rated / Incomplete)
For months and months, book after book, Twilight had poured herself into researching the creature who had left marks on her body, who tainted her dreams, who consumed her every second. For every morning she woke up tucked into bed, looking like nothing had happened save for the opened window, the mark on her neck and… and the burning sensation all over her body.
And then, one night, months ago, the visits had stopped. Twilight should have been relieved, but instead… she found herself bothered by the fact, abandoned almost, rejected. She found herself missing the torrid dreams, and this same odd longing had led her to her confide in her best friend, and like the sheep confiding in the disguised wolf, she had sealed her fate.
Twilight’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on the closed window on the wall. A chill ran down her body, an effect of the covers lying on the floor, as they had for the months she'd had no visitors. Months ago, she’d have been surprised by the mess; would have wondered why didn’t the creature visit her; would have waited up all night, wondering if she’d woken up just in time to… But that wasn’t necessary, anymore.
Not when it was she herself who’d be knocking on hell’s door.
She sat up, and with a mere gesture, the candelabra placed on the bed table lit up, dimly illuminating the room. There was silence all around, as though the castle itself waited with bated breath for the next act in the grim fairytale Twilight had inadvertently found herself in. Through the window, she could see the single lit room on the other side of the castle, silently telling her that she was being expected, and wasn’t it terribly rude to keep a princess waiting?
Pushing the covers away, she swung her legs over the bed, until her feet touched the cold floor and reminded her that was no dream or nightmare. She stood up, taking the candelabra in her hand and walked towards the door, forgetting — or perhaps not bothering — to put on slippers nor a robe over her nightgown. She brushed her fingertips against the doorknob, twisting it and then pushing on the door, surprised to find herself quite alone.
It wasn’t until she stepped into the lit hallway that she realized it wasn’t so much that she was alone, but more that she was the lone soul to still be awake. Slouched against the wall, two guards snored the night away, a box of chocolates lying next to them. The purple bow betrayed the sender, and Twilight idly wondered just how many sleeping drops had the chocolates been laced with to put two burly guards to sleep.
She closed the door and went on her way, walking into the dark hallways until the distant snores faded away and only the pounding of her heart was left. She made her way through the darkness, through the corridors of the castle that was not her home, but her prison, leading her to the waiting embrace of the secret it had hidden for twenty-five years.
She walked and walked, past more guards sleeping next to boxes of chocolate, past locked rooms of servants, guests and people who were so blissfully unaware of what Twilight had uncovered. She didn’t feel quite like herself; it was like someone else was making their way towards the east tower chambers, and Twilight herself was still lying in bed, simply picturing it in her mind, simply imagining how it would go, how it would be.
After what felt like endless minutes, she stepped into the main east corridor. It was a very large hallway, decorated with tables as old as the castle, and portraits of the many princesses and princes who’d once roamed the very same halls. They seemed to be looking right at Twilight, almost welcoming her into the private entourage who shared a secret.
You know, they seemed to say with naught but a stare, and Twilight couldn’t help but feel like she’d always known. Maybe that’s why it got so far.
She looked away from the portraits and towards the end of the corridor. A single window decorated the back wall, and like all the others, it was closed. Nevertheless, the curtains were not drawn out, and it was thanks to the moonlight filtering in that Twilight noticed a book lying in the middle of the corridor.
She walked towards the book, gesturing to it with her hand so that it would levitate into the air, waiting in place until her hand reached it. Another gesture and the candelabra floated in place, allowing her to take a look at the book.
Research of Night Creatures.
Now, with the book in her possession, Twilight didn’t feel surprised at all. She didn’t feel surprised she’d finally found the book that’d been missing for months, and if anything, she only felt a vague desire for the satisfaction of knowing she’d been right.
She noticed a purple bookmark had been left inside. In a curiously insolent gesture, she ignored it and instead slowly, lazily almost, leafed through the book, taking a moment to admire the drawings and the familiar handwriting. It was common knowledge that almost every book had been written by Queen Celestia herself, for no one but her and her sister had lived for more than a thousand years.
Eventually, she reached the page with the bookmark, the section speaking in detail of a fabled vampire-like creature who seduced women and men alike, turning them into her plaything until she grew bored or until they could no longer serve her as she desired. There was an illustration of one of these creatures, and Twilight felt her breath slow down.
The… woman in the drawing sat on the edge of a bed, wearing nothing but a nightgown stained with red splotches. On her lap, a deathly pale woman rested her head, blood trickling down her mouth and her neck. Her expression looked vacant, resigned almost, while the demoness… the demoness simply smiled, stroking her victim’s hair.
Was that her fate? Twilight wondered, taking another deep breath. But the more she looked at the illustration, the more wrong it felt. There was no resignation when she woke up in the mornings, no vacant expression. There was only the memory of having been taken care of, of having been wanted, of having been given everything in exchange for everything. The only thing that made her feel vacant was the fact that, until now, she had never known who it was.
She turned the page, and with surprise found herself looking at the drawing of familiar young girl, of probably no more than ten years at the time. The Princess of Equestria was sitting on a chair, her hands folded on her lap, her long purple hair tied up, and her eyes staring back at Twilight, looking right into her soul. There was a very slight scowl present on the girl’s face, probably a mild annoyance at having to pose for portrait.
She looked normal.
Perhaps that was what made Rarity truly frightening.
She looked like a perfectly ordinary little girl, a perfectly ordinary human, unlike the demoness from the page before. Below the illustration, the text spoke of a young infant that had been found in the forest, and how Celestia had refused to abandon it or slay it. It spoke of how the Queen had held hope that the demon would grow up to be human if raised as one, if never told of her true origins.
As the words flowed, the text became more like diary entries, research logs on the life of Equestria’s secret. It talked about how the baby became a perfectly ordinary girl with a slight temper and slightly self-centered attitude, yet was also blessed with exceeding love for assisting and giving to others. It was heartwarming to see Celestia’s own view on the creature change, from a poor thing to be taken care of, to a daughter to be loved and raised.
She turned to the page, and so did the life of the princess turn from childhood to puberty. Twilight read of the Queen’s concerns, of how Rarity’s growing attraction to other people could awaken her primal instincts. A magic necklace had been made for the princess, given to her as nothing more than a simple gift, but intended to suppress her true nature. Twilight knew this necklace well, and she only just realized that Rarity always seemed to be clutching it whenever they spoke.
The text went on and on, and now the Queen spoke of her new student. A young, shy, studious girl which she hoped would befriend the princess and keep her away from boys and temptations. Twilight would have snorted had she not been so transfixed.
It spoke of how the princess expressed interest in the student, and Twilight herself remembered those first few days. She remembered how intensely Rarity looked at her, how eager to tour her around the castle, how it was supposedly just a twenty-one year old wanting to help a shy eighteen year old.
Except…
Except then the tone changed. It became frightened while it spoke of an incident. Apparently, the Queen’s plans had failed, and the princess… no, the demon had entered the chambers of her student in the middle of the night and would have attacked her had Celestia not intervened.
Suddenly, almost four years later, Twilight understood.
It had been during her fourth week at the castle. A night like any other, where she’d been lying in bed, trying and failing to fall asleep. At first, she had blamed it on insomnia. Later, she had blamed it on the creeping feeling that she was not alone. She remembered it so vividly, the prickling sensation in her neck that something, someone was standing behind her. She remembered the fear she felt when she could have sworn the weight on her mattress shifted, and she could still remember feeling her unicorn plush toy falling from the bed — or rather, being taken from the bed.
She would have turned around, but instead, she heard Queen Celestia outside, knocking on the door, and by the time Twilight turned to look, there was nothing there. She remembered the Queen barging in, quickly ushering her out, saying how a spell had gone terribly wrong and it was imperative she moved to a safer room for the night. Security had been breached, she claimed, and Twilight hadn’t been able to mention what she’d felt, or the fact that she thought she saw something under the bed.
It wasn’t even a few days later that Princess Rarity was sent away for two years to study abroad, and it wasn’t even a day later that Twilight returned to her room, only to find her doll was nowhere to be found.
Two years later, when Rarity came back, it was like she’d changed. Before, she had always been so close, but now she kept her distance, particularly from Twilight. Or she had, in the beginning, until they grew closer and closer, until Twilight realized just how near Rarity always sat, just how softly she always spoke, just how…
A breeze.
Twilight was pulled out from her thoughts, realizing she could feel a breeze brushing against her face, like the wind. She looked up, and her breathing hitched. The window at the end of the corridor was wide open now, and on the table below it, Twilight saw the unicorn plush that had, it seemed, been stolen four years ago. She walked towards the table, setting the book down and instead taking the plush. It was in pristine condition, and the fur felt soft under Twilight's fingers, the scent of a familiar perfume wafting from it.
She looked to the corridor on the right, and at the very end, a faint light shone out from the only open door.
Her door.
She made her way towards it, forgetting all about the book and everything else, really. It felt like her mind had gone completely blank, like once more it was some external force moving her body while she only thought of Rarity — not of what she’d say to her, of what she’d think when she saw her, but just of her.
Twilight finally reached her target, crossing the threshold between reality and insanity as she stepped through the door and into Rarity’s chamber, her rationale slipping through her mind just like the plush doll slipped past her fingers and landed on the floor.
Staring in front of her, Twilight finally understood the true meaning of being bewitched.
Out of all the times Twilight had been in Rarity’s room, the one thing that had always stuck out to her was the window. It was large, very large, enough for the moonlight to gently light up the room. The windowsill, as well, was wide enough one could comfortably sit on, and in fact, Twilight had done so countless times before. She’d always found it a rather pretty sight, but it wasn’t until then that she found it breathtaking.
Rarity was lying on the windowsill, her back rested against the wall, her gaze directed towards the outside. Rather than wearing one of those long white nightgowns Twilight had once seen her in, she was wearing a short purple one, her long slender legs uncovered for all to see. One of her arms rested on her stomach, while the other idly played with the necklace hanging from her neck. Her long purple hair, which was usually tied up in a ponytail, was let down, cascading down her face and shielding her from Twilight. The moonlight shone over her, the shadows accentuating all her features and assets, as if its only purpose was to pay tribute to the creature of the night.
“Honestly, part of me always waited impatiently for you to figure it out,” Rarity said nonchalantly, as though she were speaking of a trivial affair like the weather. “It was quite maddening.”
"Did you always know?"
The question left Twilight's lips unbidden, an aftermath of her now burning curiosity.
"Did I always know my true nature? No, I did not," Rarity replied at length, still staring out the window. "I could feel it sometimes that something wasn't quite right about me. Some of the court boys and even the daughters of some dukes during my teen years… Well, they certainly drew quite indecent thoughts out of me, but I thought that was normal of every human being. Of course, then you came along, and my, things became quite..." She finally turned to Twilight and smiled. "Quite unnatural."
"Does anyone else know?"
"Only my mother and Aunt Luna, besides you, darling."
"And can you stop the transformation?"
Rarity laughed. "You say that as though you expect me to turn into a she-demon. It's not something I can 'turn' or 'transform' into, Twilight. You wouldn't expect a human not to be a human, would you?" Upon finishing the statement, she returned her gaze to the window. "I can control them, mind. Perhaps that was mother's influence, as well as the influence of being raised a human. My kind… My kind usually cares little about the life of its victims, but I can hardly claim the same for myself."
"Is that why you stopped visiting me?"
"It sounds so dreadfully cliché, doesn't it, to claim the wolf fell in love with the sheep," Rarity said, closing her eyes and resting her head against the windowsill. "I wasn't sure at first what was it about you that so completely captivated me. I thought perhaps it was your own magic capabilities drawing me; the idea that you're powerful enough to withstand my own demonic magic? I suppose it's no wonder I was drawn to your room each night, where I could simply get lost in you — and quite literally, at that," she added with a giggle that drew a flush on Twilight's cheeks.
"But then… Then we'd have breakfast the next day, and you wouldn't really remember," Rarity continued, her voice losing its teasing aspect. "What was real for me was nothing but a dream to you, something you allowed but didn't really wish for." There was a strain in her voice, as though it was difficult for her keep talking. "It wasn't just that I needed you, or wanted you. I also wanted you to want me as badly as I did, on your terms, and though it would be the same as starving myself, I simply couldn't go through with what I did every night — so I stopped."
It was curious, wasn't it, how things changed, how time went, how life turned in ways one had not expected.
Once upon a time, the sight of Rarity was enough to force Celestia to almost look away, lingering memories resurfacing alongside a seemingly everlasting mourning and heartache. A millenia had passed, maybe even more than that, and a single white unicorn had made the Princess of the Sun realize time had not completely healed all wounds.
But, where time had failed, Rarity had not.
Celestia had no ulterior motives when she offered Rarity a temporary job in Canterlot. Or, that's what she told herself, over and over, where the nearly masochistic longing for her past lover was replaced with the excuse that she simply admired the mare's diligence and hard work. There was no reason not to offer her a chance when already Rarity had done so much for Equestria…
And for Celestia.
The first few months, it had gone as one would expect. Rarity would constantly switch between confident and secure when she thought herself to be alone, but there was always that part of her that would be eternally in awe of Celestia. It had reminded Celestia of her long-lost love, and she was trapped in a paradox of wanting to stay away but being drawn to Rarity — and yet, it wasn’t the ressemblance that drew her, but the differences.
While her lost-love had been demure, Rarity was bold and outspoken. Even when in Celestia’s presence, Celestia noticed Rarity’s constant supervision of all the nobles, and she prided herself (flattered herself?) in Rarity’s scowls whenever a particularly unpleasant noble stallion tried to get too friendly with the monarch.
Eventually, Rarity became Celestia’s personal seamstress, and the monarch was remiss to admit that she couldn’t claim there were no personal intentions behind this promotion. She was fascinated by this unicorn that carried herself with the grace and poise of somepony who didn’t need a crown or title to know she was royal. There was an attraction (intellectual, mind… and perhaps a bit physical) to somepony who knew and understood the world Celestia was immersed in, who understood it to a level that books would never be able to teach, and what made it all the more fascinating was how it was almost innate to Rarity.
Celestia did not truly believe in reincarnation, but sometimes she wondered…
Things had changed, however, on the night of the fateful ball. A few drinks too much after hours of dealing with Canterlot’s nobility, and Celestia had found herself flirting with her seamstress. That was, perhaps, the last nail in the coffin that would seal their torrid romance. Rarity, in the end, did not back down and when it mattered, she did not treat Celestia as a monarch, but as a pony. In the late hours of the night, when ponies were too far gone to even realize, they both engaged in a banter both heated intellectually as it was in body language, and not once did Rarity falter, hesitate or feel intimidated by Celestia.
For the first time in millennia, Celestia wanted to take a risk.
The day after, Rarity danced around her, avoiding her as if shameful, yet too… too intrigued and confused by the alicorn’s action to completely shrink away. Too enticed perhaps? Gods, Celestia hoped so.
“Rarity, I don’t expect you heard what Baron HoofWind said about the Duchess?”
A simple question asked in the middle of an unusually silent fitting. Celestia smiled when she heard her seamstress gasp and ramble on. Gossip usually did the trick, as Celestia had learned, and she felt rather… excited to think about the idea of her and Rarity one day being the center of a scandalous rumor. Celestia herself was used to them, but for once… for once she was ashamed to admit she felt thrilled by the idea of lying in bed and for the umptenth time reading the rumors of her “supposed lover” as she let her hoof caress Rarity’s face, her neck, her chest, her—
“Honestly, the rumors have gotten so ridiculous, it’d be easier for them to just come clean outright,” Rarity said, interrupting the Princess’ admittedly scandalous imaginings.
Celestia giggled. “Heavens, I’d rather not. I’d have to deal with the aftermath of the scandal.” She paused. Risks were necessary, weren’t they? “Have you heard of any other rumor of the ball?” she asked, before adding with a giggle, “I can’t remember much, to be honest. I think Count Trottingham and his stories might have induced me to drink more than I should have.”
Rarity smiled. “I don’t know much else, Princess. I admittedly wasn’t in the best of states, either,” she admitted with a blush.
“I heard,” Celestia continued, her tone nonchalant despite the fact that every word was carefully thought-out, “that I spent a large portion of the early morning flirting with a guest! I can’t remember, but I assumed you’d know since you were there with me the entire time.”
Was it terrible of her to have to hide the smile Rarity’s blush elicited in her?
“Did you? My, my, Princess Celestia!” Rarity exclaimed, ever one to mask herself behind appearances and pretenses. “I’m afraid I missed out on that juicy scandal, Your Highness.”
“Hm, too bad…” Celestia looked away, frowning lightly, equally a master in the art of acting. “You know, even if the alcohol blurred things somewhat, it’s been a while since I felt so taken by a mare like I did with her.”
Rarity continued adjusting the dress, her tone leveled. “Oh, really?”
Celestia nodded, watching Rarity carefully. Did she dare? She wanted to, but did she? Did she dare hope to allow Rarity to mend her broken heart like she mended dresses and clothes?
“Yes,” she said. “It was quite a rarity.”
Rarity stopped, her eyes growing wide and her mouth slightly ajar. Oh, Celestia would have gladly given all the riches in Equestria just to know what was going through Rarity’s mind in that very instant.
“I-I see!” Rarity said, blushing more furiously than she’d probably care to admit.
A good sign, was it not? One that… made Celestia feel… even more daring…
“I wonder if she felt the same way,” the Princess continued, nonchalance her weapon, “I do hope she didn’t take it badly.” There. She was leaving space for Rarity to refuse if she so chose.
Rarity smiled. “In my opinion, Your Highness, I’m sure she must have found the entire thing to be rather heavenly.” She finally looked at Celestia, and biting down on her lips, added, “Perhaps even celestial.”
Luna usually loved it when the local Canterlot schools took their students to visit the castle. She always enjoyed showing the little fillies and colts around the place, and it was a good way to lift her public image. She had grown to learn, however, that foals were quite gullible creatures and firmly believed in the most ridiculous of things. Ghosts, space ponies, the likes.
There was one belief, however, she heard quite a lot. And, if her sister’s giggling was anything to go by, she at least had an inkling of just who had started the rumor.
She thought she had made peace with it, but then a little filly raised her hoof to ask a question.
“Princess Luna, are you sure the moon isn’t made of cheese?!”
Withholding a sigh, she glanced at the clock and realized that was the fifth time somepony had asked that same question in the past hour.
In all her life, Rarity had never seen a room with quite so many blinking lights. And the noise! She clamped her ears to her skull in an attempt to drown some of it out, hoping to at least be able to hear herself think. Everywhere she looked, arcade machines were rattling and jingling, and in between, colts, fillies, and even some more adult ponies were screaming and shouting. It was madness!
But, even though it was madness, it was something Rainbow loved. The poor darling had already sat through at least three hours of her marefriend going through every single clothes and jewelry shop in the Canterlot mall, the least Rarity could do was indulge her a bit. It certainly made things better that Dash dragged Rarity along to every game, either out of desire to include her or to show off or maybe both.
It did eventually prove to be a bit too much for her senses, so she excused herself to go sit down at a quiet table near the back of the place. She saw Rainbow Dash in the distance, dragging along with her a ridiculous amount of tickets she’d won and would no doubt cash in for that huge Daring Do doll in display. Heavens knew she’d been raving about it ever since they saw it.
However, when Rainbow Dash returned fifteen minutes later, she wasn’t carrying any Daring Do doll with her. Instead, she placed a small blue box on the table and pushed it towards Rarity, a huge grin on her face.
“Here you go,” she said, prompting a perplexed Rarity to open the box and gasp upon finding a very lovely (and quite expensive) looking watch. “I’d ask if you like it, but I already know you do,” she continued. “... Right?”
“Oh, sweetheart, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed immediately. “But you were so keen on getting that Daring doll!”
“Pft, it’s okay. I can come back tomorrow, anyway,” Rainbow said, waving away her marefriend’s concerns with a hoof. She then turned around to make absolutely sure nopony was watching and leaned in to nuzzle the unicorn and admit, “I was also missing like fifty more tickets for the doll…”
Rarity giggled and rolled her eyes. “I see. In that case…” She got up and started making her way towards the machines. “We better hurry then.”
“Hurry? Hurry for what?”
“Well, this place is going to close down soon, so we better hurry if we want to get you that doll, no?”
Forever was the promise Rarity made to Twilight that night under the twinkling stars; forever was the lie Rarity had to face when Twilight broke up with her under the scorching July sun; forever was the amount of time that blood would drip down Rarity’s cracked heart as she heard a teary, blissfully happy Twilight whisper ‘I do’ to somepony else.
We tried to take it slow, but no It wasn't an option in our state of mind Anything that was left was left behind
Several knocks at Rarity's door in the middle of the night woke her up. She knew who it was before she had even come down to open the door. Another fight between Ponyville's princess and the love of her life, no doubt. Minutes later, and after taking a deep breath, Rarity opened the door and lo and behold, her prediction had been correct: there was Twilight, looking down at the floor with reddened eyes and a most pitiful expression.
Another night of consoling Twilight; another night of watching the alicorn fall back in love with the one who'd hurt her; and another night of sleeping in the spare room, knowing morning would come, and Twilight would run off to somepony else. She wasn't able to hold back a soft sigh.
"I'm sorry, Rarity."
Sorry? Sorry for what? For always coming to Carousel Boutique when the lights of Pinkie's room in Sugarcube Corner were always lit until early morning? Sorry for hurting her by knowingly seeking her comfort, knowing the unicorn would never turn her away?
After all, when Rarity had said 'forever' that night long ago, Twilight knew it hadn't been a lie.
Time took its toll and we lost any thought of control We once had before closing the door This was going to be our last mistake
One last night.
This is the last time, she thought to herself, watching as Carousel Boutique appeared in the distance. Tears stung at her eyes, but the thought of seeing Rarity helped ease them. The sight of Rarity always helped, every single time she came running after a fight, every single night she lied to herself by thinking: this is the last time.
In the distance, she noticed a light coming from one of the top floors of Sugarcube Corner. It was amazing how late Pinkie went to bed almost every night. These were the silly thoughts that seeped into Twilight’s mind as she tried forgetting the argument and focused on the path towards the Boutique.
Before she even realized it, she’d reached her destination. Every single light inside the building was turned off, and though she knew Rarity had gone to bed already, she also knew the unicorn would never turn her back on helping a… a friend.
Because she was that kind and generous with her time, certainly nothing more.
One last night.
Three knocks at the door. Twilight waited, and waited, and waited. Minutes ticked by, and she wondered if perhaps Rarity hadn’t heard her. The unicorn had been working hard with commissions the past few days, and perhaps she had overworked herself. A thousand million explanations swished through her mind, yet not a single one perhaps considered her three knocks had been ignored. She simply stood there, coming up with one reason after another, blissfully unaware of the unicorn sitting on the other side, forehead pressed against the door and wanting to do anything else but go through another night of consoling the alicorn.
But she did.
Moments later, the door swung open and there was Rarity, her expression immediately turning into one of concern. For a moment, Twilight faltered and stepped back, guilt seeping in her heart like pain seeped into Rarity's.
Why am I doing this? To me? To her?
Why?
Another night, Rarity thought, ushering in her friend with comforting coos and gentle hugs.
Another damned night, she thought, mechanically preparing tea and nodding along to Twilight's tale of woe, occasionally offering rehearsed and empty words of comforts she took out from her mental stash.
One, two, three hours went by, and a quarter to three came by.
Twilight sighed, rubbing her eyes with her hoof and staring at her reflection in her empty tea cup. "Thanks for listening, Rarity,” she said, genuinely, earnestly, hurtfully. Like a dagger through Rarity’s heart, like a spell that made the unicorn choke yet kept her alive enough to continue, to forget, and to again yield, give in, masochistically so to Twilight’s selfish pleas for help.
“It’s alright,” Rarity said, lied, as she always did, as she always will as long as the beatings of her heart belonged to Twilight. But for that night, stirring her tea in a mechanical tiring motion, she couldn’t help herself, couldn’t stop herself from asking, a shot at ending the torture they were tangled in: “Have you noticed Pinkie Pie never sleeps?”
Twilight nodded, lifting the teapot and serving herself some more. “Yeah, the lights of her room are always lit until like four in the morning.”
Silence settled itself, only the clink of Rarity’s spoon against her cup still present, until Rarity spoke again, taking out the dagger in her heart and brandishing it at her opponent and companion in the miserable game of love. “Then why do you always come here?”
Twilight didn’t know what to say.
She just stared at the unicorn, the blood draining from her face, Rarity still stirring her tea without daring to look up.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you hate me, Twilight,” she said, quietly, viciously, gently. “Coming here every single time. Why?” She finally looked up. “Are you truly that cruel?”
Twilight's eyes watered, and it hurt that the sight of it still killed Rarity. "Ra-Rarity, I… I don't know?"
Rarity laughed bitterly, a soft melody which she dearly hoped would impale itself in Twilight's heart and twist it like Twilight had twisted hers. "This is the last time I'll open the door," she said, looking down at her tea and stirring, stirring, stirring because she couldn't bear look up.
Before Twilight could reply, she laughed again. A much softer, gentler laugh, because she was so stupid, wasn't she? She was so completely and totally idiotic, and she knew it. "I say that, and I wish I believed it. Isn't tragic to know that even if you came knocking again, I'd open the door every single damned time?"
"I don't love you."
Rarity finally looked up, as if Twilight's crushing statement would finally set her free, but oh, how wrong she was. There was the Princess of friendship, her big eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. It was as if she were desperately trying to convince herself of her own words.
"I'm sorry," she choked out, and Rarity merely looked down at her tea.
Stirr, stirr, stirr.
You should be, Rarity wanted to say. You should be sorry for doing this to me over, and over, and over, and over again.
"I know," she replied instead.
"I can't, Ra-Rarity. I… I married him, and I left you for him."
The tears rolled down her cheeks as she tried to form coherent sentences while Rarity continued her senseless motions, stirring a tea that had long ago turned cold.
"I never asked you to," Rarity pointed out.
"I don't have the right."
And now the stirring stopped, Rarity's eyes growing wide. Slowly, she looked up, taking the spoon out of the cup, delicately placing it on the small plate, and making sure to lace every word with anger as she said, "The right?"
Twilight shook her head, chest raising and lowering with every desperately contained sob, traces of which seeped through the cracks in her voice. "I gave you up. I don't have the right to love you or want you back after what I did."
"How curious of you to say that," Rarity replied at length. "You say that, and yet you feel entitled enough to come here and pour your woes about him to me? You don't have the right to love me, but you consider you have the right to come in here and time and time again prevent my heart from healing from you? What a peculiar way of thinking, truly."
"Rarity, I—"
Rarity got up, trotting past Twilight, using no words to explain her actions even when Twilight called her name. Instead, she allowed the alicorn to follow her into the main room, and watch as she wordlessly opened the front door.
"Pinkie Pie's awake," Rarity said, humorlessly. "I'm certain she has a spare bed."
"No," Twilight said, as if she had a right to do so, and taking a step back as if she were entitled to protest. "D-don't—"
"Yes," Rarity said.
"I no longer have the strength or interest in humoring your desires to use me as a plaything or friend for when you need to be consoled. Yes, because that's clearly the only reason you come here," she said, and it took so much of her to keep her voice steady, to mend the cracks in her voice before they even had a chance of showing up. "Please leave, Twilight."
So You Sold Your Soul to Discord [Unfinished/Scrapped]
According to the weather team’s forecast, Ponyville should have had a lovely sunny summer afternoon, with clear skies, fresh air and all the many beautiful things that entailed a perfect afternoon.
But Fluttershy had asked for chocolate chip cookies, and as such, Ponyville was now the target of raging thunder strikes, hundreds upon hundreds freezing droplets of rain, and clouds so grey and ominous they put the apocalypse to shame.
“Discord,” Fluttershy said, putting her cup of tea down on the floating table and glancing to the outside of the protective bubble she was in, “I'm ever so grateful, but next time I'll bring the cookies, all right?”
“But yours are boring! They don’t change flavor depending on the weather!” Discord protested, putting three sporks of sugar in his teacup. “And, excuse me, dear Fluttershy, but you asked for chocolate cookies.”
Fluttershy very lightly furrowed her brow. “Discord…”
“Oh, fine, fine,” he grumbled, snapping his fingers.
In no time at all, the grim weather over Ponyville cleared up. The rays of sunshine fell down upon the now dry ground, the clouds zoomed off in different directions, songbirds previously sheltered inside tree trunks clumsily poofed back onto branches, and a very confused orchestra director found himself conducting them rather than the Trottingham Choir.
“Thank you,” Fluttershy said, giggling when he begrudgingly poofed away the magic barrier surrounding them and their floating picnic table.
“Well, thanks to you, I’m not having cookies anymore,” he said, crossing his arms and glaring at the bowl of cookies, which still looked exactly as before. “I hate raisins!”
Fluttershy, who quite liked raisin cookies, reached for one and ate it in an almost curiously insolent gesture. It was strange, but more than with anypony else, Discord elicited a playful side to her. Even if his little… outburst with Tree Hugger had mortified her more than anything, it had also shown her that he valued her friendship very deeply.
“Now, Fluttershy, as your best friend—”
“One of my best friends,” Fluttershy corrected, taking a sip of tea.
"As your very best friend," Discord repeated, "I do wonder. Why do you love me so much?”
Fluttershy let out a soft giggle. “Well, you—”
A ping-like sound interrupted her no doubt wonderful detailing on why Discord was so lovable, and a very peculiar object appeared before her very eyes: a bright blue flame shaped like a teardrop. She blinked once, twice, thrice and before she could even ask what it was, Discord spoke up.
"Oh dear!" he exclaimed, extending his paw and beckoning the teardrop towards him. "Oh, this hasn't happened in a while! How exciting!"
"It's lovely," she noted, taking a bite out of one of the cookies, regarding the teardrop with fascination. "What is it?"
"Nothing terribly interesting, really," the draconequus said at length, his excitement diminishing and speaking as though he were discussing the weather. "Somepony wants to sell their soul to me."
"What?!" Fluttershy nearly choked on her raisin cookie. "Discord!"
"Oh, don't look at me like that!" Discord reprimanded, rolling his eyes. "Creatures used to sell their souls to me all the time! Everypony who was anypony did it, and then Celestia had to go be such a goody two-shoes and ban it. Honestly, even her precious Starswirl wanted to do it."
"Discord, ponies shouldn't sell their souls!" Fluttershy continued, putting down the cookie and frowning at her friend. "I'm very disappointed in you!"
"Me?!I'm not the one selling his soul!" Discord shot back, placing his paw against his chest, indignant at the accusations. "I'm just accepting them! They're the ones selling them! And, in any case, this would be the first soul in at least a year, so—"
Before Fluttershy could continue her chastising, Discord snapped his fingers and in a flash of light, they were transported elsewhere, floating table and all. When they reached their destination, Fluttershy looked around to find they were inside what seemed to be a basement.
More to the point, there didn't seem to be anypony there.
Discord furrowed his brow and looked at the flame, poking it with his paw several times. "How odd, this is the right address."
"Maybe it's broken," Fluttershy suggested, hoping that Discord wouldn't damage the soul by toying with it as he was. "Good, we can go back to our lovely picnic, and no pony has to sell their so—"
"Uhm… 'Scuse me..." a tiny voice said, cutting her off.
Fluttershy and Discord blinked, looking around for the source of the voice. It wasn't until they looked down that they discovered a very flustered looking earth-pony colt, holding tightly onto his teddy bear.
The colt gulped down and timidly looked up at the draconequus. "'Scuse me, M-Mister… A-Are you, uhm, Discord?"
And now Fluttershy understood, letting out a gasp. "Discord!" she blurted out, horrified. "He's just a colt!"
Discord didn't say anything at first, though the glance he directed the pegasus meant her protest had been heard. His chair floated back a few inches, and he jumped off, landing on the floor in a curiously delicate motion. The colt stepped back several paces, hugging his teddybear closer to his chest.
"Lemon Twist. Five years old, hates swings, but loves school," Discord said, and immediately a miniature version of Discord appeared on Fluttershy's shoulder and whispered, "The school nerd."
Lemon Twist's eyes widened, and he quickly nodded his head at the Spirit's assertions, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips.
"Lemon!" Discord cheerily said, his entire serious persona all but gone. He shrunk down the size of Lemon Twist, drawing out a surprised giggle from the foal, and asked, "Did you summon me here?"
Lemont Twist nodded. "M-My big brother said that I could give you my soul and you'd give me anything I wanted!" he exclaimed, puffing out his chest a little.
Fluttershy, at this point, decided that an intervention was necessary. She flew down from her chair, gently landed besides the colt and smiled.
Lemon seemed much less intimidated by her than Discord, and his grip on his teddy bear loosened. "Uhm, hello, Miss Fluttershy." Before she could reply, he continued with excitement, "I, uhm, I really liked when you brought some bunnies for our biology class!"
Fluttershy giggled. "Oh, the bunnies were very happy too, Lemon." She cleared her throat and, lowering herself to his height, asked, "Lemon, you don't really want to sell your soul to Discord, do you?"
The foal eagerly nodded.
"But— But why?" Fluttershy asked, still trying to smile. "What for?"
"I want friends!" Lemon Twist blurted out, and immediately did he quiet down, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Please."
Fluttershy's expression softened. "Lemon, you don't have to sell your soul to have a friend. There's so many safer and easier ways to befriend--"
"Now, Fluttershy! Let little Lemon dec—"
Lemon shook his head. "But I already know who I want my best friend to be!"
"And who is that?" Fluttershy asked. Surely she could organize a little playdate with her animals and Lemon's school friend, and they'd be best friends in no time at all.
Lemon didn't say anything, and instead showed Fluttershy the answer by timidly lifting his hoof and pointing it right at the draconequus.
Discord blinked. "Me?" he asked, seemingly genuinely surprised, paw pressed against his chest. The surprise was short-lived, though, and immediately did he turn his smug gaze towards Fluttershy, lips curled into a smirk. "Well, well, well! Did you hear that, Fluttershy?"
One, two, three Discords poofed into existence, surrounding the pegasus and bending down so as to clearly exclaim, "He wants me to be his very best friend!"
“But, Lemon, why would you want Discord as your best friend?” Fluttershy asked, quickly amending her reply at seeing the hurt that flashed by Discord’s face. “Um, I mean, I understand why, but why?”
As the colt quickly listed off a wide array of things he’d seen Discord do, from making it snow, to turning day into night, to making it rain chocolate milk, Fluttershy realized why a foal would be interested in such a friendship. Discord’s fond rememberings of the fact certainly weren’t helping.
“Ahh, good times!” he said, stroking his beard.
Fluttershy cleared her throat and smiled. “Well, even if Discord is ‘cool’, you can’t sell your soul to him, Lemon," she insisted. "Why n—mmph!" A large piece of tape now covered her mouth.
"Excuse me, Fluttershy, but this is between Lemon and myself!" he said, harrumphing for good measure. He cleared his throat before she could protest, and with a snap of his fingers, a contract appeared and unfurled before the colt. Another snap of his fingers and a quill appeared next to Lemon.
"Voila!"
"Mmphmmph!"
"Hush, Fluttershy!"
The contract was at least five meters long, and in very small print, but the foal responded enthusiastically.
"Uhm…" He walked on top of it, valiantly trying to read the fine print, but stopped. He glanced at Discord, almost as if with shame, and then meekly confessed, "I'm not so good at reading..."
Discord waved him off with a gesture. "Oh, it's alright. Reading is boring anyway," he sympathized, completely ignoring Fluttershy's protests. He snapped his fingers, and a picture book appeared. "There. That's more age-appropriate, I suppose."
"Oh! I can read this!" the colt exclaimed, gleefully turning the pages.
"Well of course, it's just pictures," Discord replied, rolling his eyes. He snapped his fingers yet again, and the book automatically turned to the last page. "Now sign, please! I have cookies waiting for me."