You are Discord, and today is Tuesday. You love Tuesday. Tuesday is the day you have tea with Fluttershy. Tea with Fluttershy is a wonderful, amazing time.
She listens to you during tea, and you tell her your adventures. You tell her about your wins and losses, your struggles and your naps, and how much you hate gravity. And you do hate gravity, with a passion.
Of course, lately you’ve been wondering if there’s something more you need. Sure, listening to you is just darling of her, but maybe you want more from her. She’s just a pony, so she can’t dance with you in the space between the Planck distance, or survive when you break causality, or even eat words.
At least, not words from books. You love to eat words from books, but not as much as you love Fluttershy.
You wonder about that. Is that what this is? You don’t think you’re ready to love a pony. They’re so frail and two dimensional. Oh, sure, they think they are three dimensional, but they can’t see the screen like you can.
Still, two dimensional or not, you feel something new for this little yellow perfectly normal pony. Maybe you should act on that? No, you definitely shouldn’t.
Of course, that means you have to.
You growl as you slam open the door and create a quiet squeaking noise instead of the usual din of slamming and banging a door. Fluttershy wouldn’t like the loud noise, but you absolutely have to make an entrance somehow, it’s just who you are. So you entered through the door—by slamming it, and making it squeak like a rubber ducky.
How else did you expect to get in? You weren’t so crude as to simply apparate in your friend’s house. At least, not anymore.
The air inside is warm, and smells of animals. Two mice scatter as you step quickly through the door. They are in your way, but Fluttershy wouldn’t want you to hurt them. The mice run from you, but run together. How curious.
As a going away present, you set two hats on their heads. A little top hat, and an accurate miniature pickelhaube, as mandated by King Frederick William IV. Not that you or the mice know King Frederick, but it was the principle of the matter.
You always considered yourself too principled for your own good. Perhaps it was time for a change?
“Fluttershy! I’m here! I brought lemon bars!” You hold a bag, joyfully shouting your entrance. You don’t want to scare her.
“I’m in the living room, Discord. Tea for two is almost ready!” her voice sails through the house, like a fresh breeze in a warm stinky animal hovel.
Smiling, you rush through the house to the living room, letting your long snake-like tail swish across the floor and startling a snoozing chinchilla. Birds scatter and tweet as you go. It’s been so long since you’ve seen her! Why, just yesterday feels like an eternity ago.
Time is funny like that. You’re never sure how much is passing, has passed, or is going to pass. Definite measurements really didn’t mean much to you, unlike the paper thin ponies that you played with. They lived by schedules, and somehow they now meant something to you; you just weren’t sure quite what.
The only time that you bothered remembering was Tuesdays. Every other time just sort of happened, and you were where you needed to be when you needed to be.
Right now, you need to be with Fluttershy. She’s fluttering over the table while Angel, the little rascal, is tapping his foot angrily. You briefly wonder who shoved a carrot up his ass, and then briefly wonder if it was you.
Curiously, you pull with your magic and don’t find a carrot, but Angel glares at you in sudden alarm. Shrugging, you ignore him to talk with Fluttershy. Dear, sweet, boring Fluttershy.
“Fluttershy! How has your day gone! It’s been simply far too long since we’ve last talked.”
She starts rambling. It’s something about her animals, you’re sure, but frankly you don’t care. You anxiously wait for your turn to talk. She’s looking quite grumpy about something, and her adorable little green eyes are furrowed in frustration as she exclaims something about a wild boar, or maybe a terrible bore. You simply aren’t too sure one way or the other, and you couldn’t care less.
As she talks, you flit over to the table, and comfortably settle in one of the little chairs she’s provided. It’s much too small for you to be comfortable, but it’s perfectly big enough now that you’re sitting in it—not to mention the magic you used on it.
Her eyes dart nervously, and you watch them. Fluttershy is paper thin, like every other pony, but you want her to be more. She needs depth, and suddenly you realize that you can give it to her. As she rambles on about the birds amassing for a bloody and terrible vengeance, or migration or something, you snap your fingers.
Fluttershy pauses her rambling to look around in confusion. “Discord! What did you just do?”
You smile too wide. “I didn’t do anything. My magic, though, it maybe did. Do you see it?”
Fluttershy looks at her tea curiously in contemplation. You can’t tell if she’s talking to herself or to you. “This teacup is… round. Very round. A different kind of round? How is it round this way?”
Your smile dips slightly. Maybe she can’t tell. Maybe making her three dimensional was too much to handle. “It’s got depth, Fluttershy. Like you and I. Like us.”
She nods, poking it with her hoof. “I think this is making me dizzy, Discord. I’m not sure I like it. Can you turn me back to how I was?”
You sigh in frustration. Of course, her mind is still paper thin. No depth at all. Just like she always has been. “I didn’t meant to bother you, I just thought it might be fun to see the world how I do.”
Defeated, you close your eyes and hold your claw up to snap it back, and are surprised when it doesn’t pop. Carefully, you peak out from under eyelids that you only sometimes have.
Fluttershy is holding your claw with her hoof. It’s warm and firm, the hoof has a soft texture, and she’s looking to you earnestly.
“Wait… is this really how you have to see the world?” She’s interested.
Your frown slowly spins around, and settles into a grin. She doesn’t like this. She hates it in fact, you can tell. But she likes you enough to want to experience it. Maybe her adorable little pony brain isn’t paper thin at all. Maybe it has a bit of depth to it. A tantalizing, wonderful depth.
You lick your lips, and she smiles. The air in the cabin doesn’t smell abhorrent, but instead almost sickeningly sweet as you realize there’s a depth to the scent. Angel taps his cute little two dimensional foot in frustration, and you reach around him to poke the other side of his ear with your paw. He seems confused, and angry, unsure how you reached through him, unable to see the third dimension.
That’s normal for Angel, so you haven’t pushed him too far yet.
Fluttershy watches you move, firmly holding your claw. “I… Well, oh. That’s too… I mean, um, it’s interesting.”
“Interesting? I rip you from the fabric of your reality to show you mine and all you can say is that it’s interesting?” You tease her. She likes being teased, but only gently. Only softly. Fluttershy likes soft things. Now they can be even softer.
“I just… I’m glad I can see what you see. Please don’t let me go though. It’s hard for me to stand, and I’m terrified I’ll… fall through?” She peaks over the edge of the screen, and into the infinite space in front of her.
You shrug. You know how to solve this. You snap your fingers again, and both of you gently float next to the table. “You can’t fall if there’s no gravity. Doesn’t that feel safer?”
Fluttershy shivers, holding your claw tightly as her hair waves around in the zero-G environment. Even though her grip tightens, her body seems to relax. “A little.”
“Are you ready for lemon bars?”
She smiles nervously, her hair covering her eyes in a way it never has before. “I’d love to.”
Carefully, you snake your tail under the table and wrap it around her back hoof. Angel glares angrily as you pull her gently back into her seat. From his perspective, you simply turned gravity back on for her. But you and her know the truth. A little secret from the bunny. A little tantalizing weightlessness hidden under the table by your tail.
Slyly, she smiles back as she realizes what you’ve done. That little grin, that little smile means the world to you. It’s not a scared little pony. It’s not a boring, sane Fluttershy. It’s someone who almost understands you. She’s a co-conspirator now. Maybe she’s still timid. Maybe she’s still terrified, but she’s there with you. She’s brave for you.
The lemons march out of your bag and begin to pour the drinks, and Fluttershy laughs.
You laugh, too.