//------------------------------//
// Like a Cup of Hot Chocolate (No Heroes - Fanfic) 
// Story: Sunset's Isekai 
// by Wanderer D 
//------------------------------//


Sunset's Isekai
Like a Cup of Hot Chocolate (No Heroes
 - Fanfic)
By Wanderer D & PaulAsaran







The moment she heard the bell chime, Sunset sighed into the phone. Loudly. As in, trying to make sure her irritation came through on the other side of the line just so they would hurry up. 

"Look, I told you," she practically groaned into the line, "the desks have to be able to survive a direct impact from a megaspell. Think something like White Nova." She paused, listening to the sales person before interrupting. "Yes, you've mentioned that they are made to survive a meteor strike, but you need to understand, some of the people I—" She sighed again, rubbing her temples gently with her free hand. "Fine. I'll take the warranty, but you'd better make sure you're ready to fulfill it, and if anyone even gets hurt because you couldn't pull this off..."

Again the sales person took her attention, but not enough to stop her from hearing the tell-tale sound of hooves on the floor. "Okay, okay. I get it. You can't insure it past their intended use. I was assured that you were the to-go company for this kind of thing, but I guess I'll have to upgrade them myself. I'll take them as they are. Just have them ready for pickup. Uh… an alicorn pony named Nope. She'll get them for me. Yes. Yes. Okay. Thank you."

She took a deep breath and slowly set down the phone behind the counter before turning to face her guest. "Ahem. Sorry about that." She took in the newcomer, a middle-aged pony with a fading red mane showing the barest hints of grey in it. He held himself with confidence that was severely tempered by obvious tiredness. At first, she didn't see it, but when he moved fully into the room she barely caught sight of his cutie mark: a reared-back pony, hidden so well among the dapples in his coat she wouldn't have been able to spot it without staring for a while. At least, not without the convenient lights in the bar saving her from the embarrassment.

Some ponies were very sensitive about not having cutie marks, after all.

Other than that, he looked thin, but not weak. Definitely could use a drink though.

"Welcome to Sunset's Isekai," she said, smiling politely at him. "My name is Sunset Shimmer, and this is my little bar in the multiverse. Please, grab a seat and let me get you a menu."

The stallion stared at her blankly for a moment. His gaze shifted to the pictures on the wall. Then to the jukebox. Then to the bar. Then to the bottles. Then, at last, back to her. “This is both exactly and nothing like what I expected.” He stared at her for a few seconds, peering, scrutinizing with his rosewood red eyes.

“Ah.” Tilting his head back and tapping his chin, he said, “Sunset Shimmer. Age 38. Former student of Celestia. Current whereabouts: unknown.” He smiled at her. It was a friendly, weary look. “You know the princess would pay a ton of bits for information leading to a conversation between the two of you.” Stepping up to the bar, he asked, “Got anything like hot chocolate?”

Sunset laughed. "I'm not that young, but the other details are pretty spot on." She motioned with her hand at the seat. "And yes, I do. It's a fan favorite, so I hope it meets your approval," she added with a smile. "And I'm afraid I have never met you before, although you seem very well informed. What's your name?"

At her confirmation he looked immensely relieved. Settling on one of the stools, he placed his forehooves atop the counter. While his head remained aimed her way, his eyes were darting all over the place. Not in any sort of worry. Sunset had seen that behavior before. He was cataloguing. “Born Verity Fine. Became Fine Crime after my turn to… darker things.” He caught her wince and grinned. “Yeah, I know. ‘Just asking to be caught’, right? In my defense, I was very young and stupid and undergoing some terrible events, so I was also a bit emotional.” A beat. “Most ponies just call me ‘Fine’.”

"Pleasure to meet you, Fine," Sunset said, letting him study the bar as she turned to make his chocolate. "Believe it or not, I have a very good idea of what it is like to be young and particularly full of myself while being an idiot, so you're in excellent company." She summoned the chocolate as she rummaged through the fridge for the different milks she used in her mix. "Do you prefer your chocolate on the bitter or sweeter side?"

“I prefer it dark. Maybe a little sweeter. Dark chocolate is at its best in the 60%-80% range, if you ask me.” He hummed in thought. “Then I like to sweeten it. Usually with marshmallows. Or whatever Pinkie thinks will do the trick. Which is surprisingly more hit than miss.”

Sunset gave him a curious look. "Well then, I do think you'll like this one. I'll even make sure it has a bit of extra pick-me-up in it," she said. "So, you're friends with Pinkie Pie? I can't say I have her flair for sweets, so you're setting the bar a bit high, but I'll do my best." She proceeded to add a couple of different chocolates to her ingredient list on the counter, followed by several kinds of milk and creams.

Down went his smile. And his eyes. “Friends,” he muttered. “More than friends. Maybe more than more than friends. Maybe.”

"Oho." Sunset shook her head. "Want to talk about it?" She motioned with her hand at the bar. "This place is outside time and space, so you're not going to lose time in your world. You can take as long or as little as you like. This hot chocolate is a process, so my ears are fully yours."

He looked at her, his expression thoughtful. Then back to his hooves. He didn’t look so much sad anymore as he did… ponderous. “Going by my storytellers instincts, and considering that this place showed up in my office out of nowhere, I think this is the point where I’d reveal that the bar always just-so-happens to appear in exactly the right place and time for the inevitable patron to spill his guts about whatever is bugging him or her. I can’t think of any other reason for this to be happening. I mean, honestly. A bar. In my office. Using completely different building materials from Canterlot Castle.” Now he was smiling again, fiddling with his hooves. “Am I getting this right so far?”

"I'll say that your powers of deduction are pretty spot on," Sunset said, slightly impressed. "Most creatures will go for the more paranoid approach, especially if I had met them before in another world and I just happened to know their name, age, social security number, and place of residence." She tapped her chin thoughtfully as the milk mixture slowly warmed up. "They never really stop to consider the building materials though."

“I live in a book.” He threw up his hooves in a playful manner, chuckling as he did. “It’s official, I live in a book. This kind of thing doesn’t happen to ‘normal’ ponies. Er, people.” He heaved a sigh at her curious look and shook his head. “Yeah, I know, I’m being weird. Pinkie rubs off on me sometimes. Which is good, because I needed that a lot when we first met.”

Once again, he entered thoughtful mode, a hoof to his chin as his eyes darted about the room. Then he focused on her, taking her in from apron to hair. “I think I’d normally be asking a lot of questions, but meh, I’ve met Discord. And I know you’re a ‘human’ from the reports about that mirror in the Crystal Empire. So I’m going to assume that there’s very little chance you’ll meet someone I know and blab about my entire private life to anyone I actually care enough about for it to matter. And this is all a very long-winded way of expressing how I have no idea where to start.”

"Discord does tend to prepare the unwary for this kind of situation," Sunset agreed, starting to add the different types of chocolate into the mix, along with a little vanilla. "I like to think that my bar is a bit more stable than his usual flair, but it is kind of random." She chuckled. "But even if I knew anypony you cared about, I wouldn't say a word. You see, not only does this place appear when you need it, but when a single creature or a specific group comes through, I consider their trust kind of… sacred in a way. This is my chance to make an honest attempt at helping others and making friends. It keeps me going through eternity…" She trailed off then grinned at him. "You could say it's my own version of Pinkie-level weirdness that helps me be better."

“Huh.” Another glance around. Fine nodded, seemingly more to himself than her. “That explains why it’s so dead in here despite you clearly having a large clientele.” He gestured to the pictures lining the walls. “I guess it’s better than waiting for Fleur to lecture me or doing more paperwork.”

Despite the claim, he hesitated. Whatever was bothering him, he didn’t seem eager to voice it. He turned his attention to Sunset and her work. After a few seconds of quiet, in which she was more than willing to give him the time he needed, he finally managed to speak. “I’ve got a… big job. Work directly for Princess Luna. Spy organization, espionage, all that stuff. Ponies count on me, even if they don’t know I exist. And I’m fine with that.” A beat, a chuckle. Whatever the joke was, he didn’t bother to elaborate. “It’s just...these days I don’t want to do the work. Right before your bar showed up, I was specifically looking for some hot chocolate in an effort to procrastinate on work that could literally save lives.” Then, in a quiet murmur she almost missed, “Or end them.”

Sunset gently placed the cup of hot chocolate in front of him, topping it with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. "One of those jobs, huh?" She bit her lip as she placed the graham cracker into the whipped cream, then topped it off with a little more, followed by a marshmallow, which she toasted to perfection with some basic pyromancy. "I've met a couple of other spymasters for Celestia's court in my time. It's… never an easy job." She slid the finished drink across so it was within his hoof-grasp.

He blinked at her. “I didn’t think you’d heard me.” Then, hesitantly, he added, “It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s not that it’s hard. I don’t like mentioning that part specifically because other ponies tend to get all offended and self-righteous. Fluttershy—” He sighed and shook his head. “She had some not-very-nice things to say about me. Especially for Fluttershy.” He turned his attention to the hot chocolate… and just stared at it. Not out of sadness, but out of wide-eyed uncertainty. “I almost don’t want to ruin its aesthetic by daring to drink it.”

Sunset smirked, crossing her arms. "As one of my friends would say: it's an insult to both me and the hot chocolate not to drink it." She nodded. "Don't hesitate, remember. I make these often enough to be on the menu."

She leaned on the bar. "Fluttershy is almost always a gentle soul, but very judgemental of others that don't necessarily match her world view. And she's not the only one… For my part… well, I've seen too much and even lived through too much to not understand a bit of it." She tapped the bar with her finger a couple of times. "But I didn't mean just the weight of the decisions you made, but the personal cost. I know this changeling, who's Celestia's Spy Master in a world far from this one… He had a family he wasn't really aware of, and it took him decades before he even mustered the will to meet one of them."

She shook her head, pausing to reach under the bar for her shaker, mixing some bourbon, simple syrup, bitters, ice and a shot of espresso. After mixing it, she poured the mix into a rocks glass and took a sip, sighing as she came back to the conversation. "I guess it's easy to isolate yourself when the weight of a country… sometimes the world, in many ways, rests on your shoulders. But as rewarding a job as it can be sometimes – or as horrible – where do you draw the line to decide whether it's worth more than your own happiness?"

He said nothing to this at first. Fine took the cup of hot chocolate in his hooves, which made her wonder why he was forgoing his horn. Very carefully, he took a sip of the beverage. His eyes lit up. “Oooh. If my friend Nye had this on the menu at his establishment I’d be a much more regular customer.” He proceeded to take another sip. Sunset half-expected him to take big gulps, but no, Fine only sipped. Once the cup was put down he used his magic to remove some of the whipped cream from his muzzle, slipping it back into the mug. “My compliments, Miss Shimmer.”

She nodded her acceptance, not about to let him change the subject any further than he already had. He smiled sheepishly, apparently aware he’d been caught. “It seems I’m not as good as I used to be.”

The smile faded once more. He seemed lost in thought for a time. When he finally spoke, his voice was subdued. “My job is easy. It looks hard, and it’s certainly time consuming, but when you’re as good at scheming as I am and have been doing it for decades, you learn to do things fast. I just… don’t want to anymore. But you’re right, lives depend upon my decisions. That’s important. I’m important. I can’t just quit. Can I? Stop and go be with Pinkie on her birthday. Kick Rarity to the curb – no offense to her, of course, she has every right to want to spend her precious free time with her friend – and go… I don’t know, somewhere.” He heaved a long, low sigh. “But my job is so important.” He took another sip.

Sunset hummed. "Well, first of all, and I'm going to be blunt about it because it's a universal fact… it's easier to simply walk into Mordor than miss Pinkie's birthday and have her forget that. And second… well, if you did… Isn't there anypony or creature able to take over after you?" She took a deep breath and eyed him with a little pity. "You're going to work yourself out of her life too if you don't give yourself some slack. If you don't want to do the job anymore, and Pinkie is really a priority… Don't you have options?"

He shrugged. “Oh, I’m not missing Pinkie’s birthday. I’ll skip work if I have to.” Then, again under his breath, “Not like I’m doing much of it, anyway.” Returning to a normal volume, he pressed on. “I’ve arranged dinner with her tonight. I do it every year. Mine’s more ‘normal’, to make up for the crazy she tends to do for my birthdays.” At that, he began to grin, his attention seeming to go back to fond memories.

It didn’t last. He took another sip, always a sip, and regained his thoughtful, uncertain expression. “I have a former apprentice. Fleur de Lis. Practically my little sister, albeit a surrogate one. She wants the job. She could do it, too. I just worry about her. I’d rather she not end up in a situation like this. She’s never been one for dating, but then neither was I for a long time. Fleur…” Yet again, he was staring into his hot chocolate. “She deserves to do what she wants, I suppose. I just find myself wishing I hadn’t put her in a position to want this job, y’know?”

Sunset nodded. "I… think I can see that. But at the same time, hasn't she had chances to do anything else at all? Marry Fancy Pants? Date Rarity? Depends on the world, but I can't imagine someone as capable as you say she is not having had more than one chance to do something else if she wished."

Fine snorted so hard he almost spilled his hot chocolate. “Fleur and Fancy. That’d be the day.” He paused to make sure he had not, indeed, made a mess before taking yet another of those careful sips. Sunset finally realized that he was just the type to savor his drink. She supposed when you had pyromancy to reheat things then cooling wasn’t such an issue. He seemed smart enough to have figured that out.

Once the mug was back on the counter, he said, “Fleur did modeling for a long time. That was her cover job in case people wondered where all her bits came from. She was really good at it.” His smile turned… nice. ‘Fatherly’ came to Sunset’s mind. “Really good at it. Famous all over Equestria.” In what was becoming a clear pattern for him, the mood faded quickly. “She doesn’t do much modelling anymore. She spends most of her time trying to make up for my lack of work ethic. Which she regularly reprimands me over. Not that I don’t have it coming.”

"So… essentially she's already doing the job, you just have the title." Sunset grinned. "If this is what she wants to do, and she can do it… Provided you also want this, what's really stopping you? It's definitely not the lack of an heir apparent."

“One layer after the other,” he muttered. “I feel like I’m being peeled. Like an onion.” At her raised eyebrow, he offered that sheepish grin again. “Not avoiding it. Just saying.” He tapped his hooves together, suddenly turning serious. Not in the same way as before. This was a more… heavy seriousness. Not a sadness, more like he felt this was a topic to be treated carefully. “You have apparently seen a lot of things. Have you ever heard of a disease, genetic in nature, that makes a pony… person, addicted to…” He pursed his lips, staring at her as if having second, third, maybe even forth doubts. “Murder?”

Sunset pressed her lips. "I am not a psychologist, so take this as you will, but it's my understanding that all addictions function the same way, on a basic level." She twirled the empty shot glass on the tip of her finger as she spoke. "Something brings you pleasure, you naturally want more. Whatever the initial reason behind the first drink, bet, punch, or whatever was, it stops being as important as the pleasure you get from it." She put it down on the bar and sighed. "Addiction can be treated in different ways across the multiverse… but it is always treated as a disorder at least." She shrugged, looking up apologetically. "I'm sorry if I can't just answer your question. I've seen serial murderers. I've fought megalomaniacs that take pleasure in eradicating entire planets. I don't know if there's such a thing as a disease that makes you addicted to that… just circumstances, chance and choices."

Fine’s entire demeanor shifted. He was no longer ponderous and uncertain. Replacing it all was a hard expression that briefly made Sunset wonder if she hadn’t said something offensive. “There is no ‘enjoying’ the Bloodmane,” he muttered darkly. “It doesn’t work like that. We didn’t do it because we wanted to. One minute you’re walking down the street and everything is perfect and sunshine and rainbows, the next you’re having a lifelike vision, a hallucination of death. And if you can’t reel it in, you do it. When I was a teenager, I woke up late one night to a vision of murdering my father in his sleep with a pillow. When I came out of it, I was standing over his bed. He was asleep, and I was holding a pillow. I ran away that instant because I knew I’d come within seconds of doing something horrible.”

His dark manner faded, shifting once more to uncertainty. Sunset might have even detected a hint of fear in there. “I had it. Pinkie had it. We were able to fix it. Through friends and a lot of pain, we got better. But today Pinkie reminded me: she just turned thirty-five. She won’t be able to have foals for much longer. And the Bloodmane, for all the little we know about it, is almost certainly genetic in nature.”

"I see," Sunset said, taking a deep breath and letting it slowly out. "I've seen many things, but there's always something unique or different in each world." She sighed. "But think about it this way: it might be hereditary, but it's not infallible. You both have an excellent network of friends, many of them with incredible knowledge in magic and yes, psychology. So there is a chance either way, but if you both want foals, you'd be the best ponies to manage that and help them through it."

He sipped his drink. Stared into it some more. After a second or two, he set the mug down and slid it slightly towards her. “Heat me up? Please.” She did so, heating the still mostly-full mug with her magic. “My parents didn’t have it. My grandparents didn’t, either. Pinkie’s grandmother… probably did. She killed herself when she found out Pinkie did too.” He heaved a long sigh. “I know the odds aren’t 100%. I know that. And Pinkie doesn’t have any reservations. I’m confident she would have told me if she did. She wants to discuss the topic later. Maybe even tonight.”

The mug, now warm, returned to his hooves. He took a sip and smiled, but it was a wan expression. Reaching into his mane, he pulled out something black. It was a knife which, if Sunset wasn’t mistaken, was made of bone. He set the ominous thing down on the counter between them, staring at it with a weary, nostalgic expression. “This belonged to my first friend, back when I was a teenager. She killed another pony and took it as a trophy. Then I killed her during a vision. I kept it on me at all times as a reminder of what I was and a signal of hope that maybe, some day, I’d be able to control it.

“Now I have Pinkie Pie.” He pushed the knife away. “It’s nothing more than a tool used for protection, just in case. I don’t need it anymore. I got over who I was. Because of Pinkie.” The frown came back yet again. “But it’s still a reminder of what I was. And Pinkie wants kids. I can’t look at this and not think about...”

He shuddered and went back to his mug. “So I guess now you’ve got the full story. A surrogate sister who wants the job I don’t, a marefriend who wants to go all the way, a sickness that scares the cutie mark off me.” He made a show of glancing back, as if to make sure his cutie mark was still back there. “Yeah. It’s quite the package. How do I gauge what the most important thing is? How do I get over my uncertainty? How do I buck up and… and do what I want to do?” More sips. He didn’t look Sunset’s way, but it was pretty clear he was hoping for some kind of answer.

Sunset was at a loss. This wasn’t her usual hurdle. Fine seemed pretty determined to stay in his rut. Finally, she asked what seemed like the most important question. “Do you love her?” He stared at her for a moment, as if not sure what she’d asked.

Then he lit up into the brightest smile she’d yet to see on his face. “Yes. That mare makes life worth living. There is nopony in any world who can understand me like her. I sang for her, and if you knew how I am about singing you’d understand that to be a shocking ordeal worthy of history books. Absolutely, unquestionably, with no qualifications, I love that mare. She is the jelly to my peanut butter.” At her cocked head, he elaborated with a wistful smile, “Nopony can separate peanut butter and jelly once they’ve come together.”

"Then there's your answer," Sunset said, grinning. "Don't give me that look, I mean it. If she wants that, and you do to, you're only torturing yourself over what ifs and fear. If you two have foals there's a chance they won't have this ‘Bloodmane’ thing, and if they do you're ready. You probably understand it much better than Pinkie's grandmother ever did. Haven't you heard that no one is ever ready to be a parent? I can't tell you how many people I've had sitting here giving me a list of reasons to not have children that matches exactly what the previous one said." She reached over, patting his hoof gently. "And it's kinda obvious you want this too."

“You bet I do.” His smile started to fade. “But what about—?”

Nope. Sunset refused to let him fall into a rut again. She thrust a finger in his face. “You love her.”

His eyes crossed staring at the appendage. “Well, sure, but—”

She poked his muzzle. “You love her.”

“Yes. We've established that. But—”

Another poke. “You’d do anything for her.”

“Yes?” Now he just appeared confused.

“Including having kids with her?”

“I…” He swallowed. His frown began to shrink. “Yeah. I would. If she really wanted it.”

Another poke. “Don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And you love her.”

He glowered, but it was betrayed by the smile growing on his lips. “How many times are you going to have me—?” Poke. “Yes!”

“Then stop whining and second guessing yourself!”

“I am not—” Poke. He was outright grinning “Okay, yes, I’m whining! And I love her, so stop poking me. Pinkie does that plenty as it is.”

"But fingers are so efficient for that!" Sunset countered, even as she lowered her hand. "So what will you need to do to get your affairs at the office sorted? Given that you have time here to plan, you should make sure you do this transition as smoothly as possible, don't you?"

He snapped out, as if by rote, “Two weeks to get Fleur caught up on certain things she doesn’t know about yet. Luna can keep everything still in the office because all the stuff I care about is already at my place outside of Ponyville anyway. I've already got the earrings and the perfect arrangement for how to get them delivered, I only have to pull the trigger.” At her smug look, he blushed with a grin. “Okay, so maybe I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

She snorted. "It's not often Pinkie is taken by surprise. Is she expecting this at all?"

“Considering she asked me just this morning about discussing some of these topics, I can say with some certainty that, no, she’s not expecting this.” He chuckled and took something most decidedly not a sip from his mug. “We sort of compete in the whole ‘surprise each other’ game. She’s a tough opponent.”

Sunset grinned. "I rest my case."

He narrowed his eyes at her in mock annoyance. “Somehow I feel like I just won and lost an argument at the same time.” Then he took another drink of his chocolate. “Alright, fine! I’ll do it. I’ll retire, I’ll ask the best mare in all of Equestria, history included, to marry me. Tonight. That being said…” He eyed his mug, then eyed Sunset. “Time doesn’t change here, you say? I can go back whenever I want? In that case, I’ll take another of these. They’re too good to just have one.” He paused, glancing around as if in search of something. “Do I even have the right currency for a place like this?”

"One more hot chocolate coming up!" Sunset chuckled. "This being an interdimensional bar, I have made arrangements for that, so whatever currency you have should work. Also," she added, slipping her fingers into her breast pocket and pulling out a card, "you can have this. Use it to visit again sometime, alright? And bring the wife."

He took the card in his magic, examining it curiously. “I’m going to assume its usage is painfully obvious and I’ll figure it out when I’m ready to.” The card disappeared in his mane, not unlike the way Pinkie tended to hide things in hers. Sunset idly wondered if she’d taught him the trick. Then, as she worked on his second hot chocolate, he grew very quiet. He stared at his hooves, as if not sure what they were. “I’m going to marry Pinkie Pie.”

A grin split across his face, bigger than ever. “I’m going to marry Pinkie Pie. Luna’s stars, that feels good to say.” Then, slowly, as if to relish the experience: “I’m going to marry Pinkie Pie.”

"Well," Sunset said, "in that case, the first three hot chocolates are on the house as a small congratulations."

“Volume aside, there is nothing ‘small’ about those hot chocolates.” He extended his hooves, appearing for a moment more like a foal than a full grown stallion. “Allow me to channel my inner Pinkie and say: Gimme!”

She obliged, sending the second mug his way. “Have at it, you lucky guy.”

“I am lucky.” He paused, mug halfway to his lips. After a few seconds’ consideration, his smile grew warm. “You know what? I am a lucky guy.”

He then drank the entire mug in one go.





Sunset nursed her drink long after Fine had left. The knife he had left behind was made of unicorn horn bone. Something that would horrify a lot of ponies she knew if they ever found out. Most Twilight Sparkles would if they got the chance to study it.

But it was much more than that. It was bathed in willpower, regret and hope. The fact that Fine had walked away from it without a second glance said much about where he had probably been when he obtained it first, versus where he was today.

With a wave of her hand, the knife was encased in a small display box, with a golden tag under it that read Fine Crime. She levitated it and placed it in one of the small areas behind the bar where such it could be displayed properly.

In a way, it would help remind her of the journeys she and many of her guests had made or were making, and how time, experience and hope could make any creature change for the better if they so desired.

She glanced from the knife down to the boxes of materials she had been preparing and smirked. That was a lesson she would never forget, and one she hoped to be able to teach.