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// Star Swirl the Bearded Exiles your Bed to Another Dimension (Daedelean) 
// Story: Fimfic Authors Are In Your Bed 
// by Admiral Biscuit 
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Star Swirl the Bearded Exiles your Bed to Another Dimension
Daedelean

 Your stomach grumbles as you get off the subway after another lousy day at work. Today you were yelled at, shoplifted from, spilled upon, beaten with a rake, and robbed of most of your lunch break, and right now you want nothing more than to seal the world away and never let it out again. Your thoughts turn to the weekend you have planned: a weekend of staying in bed, getting out only to make more food or go to the bathroom, and otherwise staying right under your sheets on your laptop or reading a book. To begin with, you think as you climb the stairs up to your apartment, you're looking forward to a nice relaxing evening of eating pizza while watching a movie. You'd been meaning to see Alloy Man: The Corrosion for ages, maybe tonight was the night.

        You reach your apartment and close the door behind you, then kick off your shoes and toss your bags on the couch. The couch springs groan in complaint, but you ignore them. You drop down onto the cushions and lay back with a contented sigh. Your day-to-day routine may have been a soul-crushing grinder, and you may have found that making a discovery that completely shattered the world's understanding of the cosmos meant very little since nobody was going to pay you for it, or even be nice to you as a result, but your apartment is still yours and nobody is going to change that. The place looks just like you'd left it this morning, with the exception of the floating orb in the kitchen.

        It's a pretty good orb, you have to admit. Very clear, like mercury, it ripples as it moves slowly through the air. You can't see it very clearly from the couch, and you have very little interest in getting up again, but as it turns you see that on one side it has a round disc, like a pupil, that glows with a shimmering, golden light.

        It is not too large (about the length of your hand in diameter), and it makes a slight humming sound as it moves, which easily fades into the background and is not at all intrusive. In fact it's kind of soothing, so kudos, floating orb. Floating orb can be your friend. You can go on adventures together, if that's the orb's thing.

        You wonder to yourself what floating orbs do for fun.

        The orb relaxes you as it goes about its business. You had meant to turn on the tv, or head over to your bedroom and go online, or make something to eat, but now you can't really be bothered. You are comfortable, for once, and the rest of the world can go hang. You listen with mild interest as the orb leaves the kitchen and roams around the living room, studies the furniture and the pile of undone laundry as well as the other pile of laundry you have done but haven't bothered to put away yet. It pauses momentarily by the window to admire the view of the other apartment block just across the road. It continues on its tour of the apartment until it has seen everything, and then heads over to your bedroom door, which clicks open to permit it in. The door closes, and the humming stops.

        It's at this point that you think to yourself that something isn't quite right here.

        For one thing, now that the hum is gone you suddenly realize you're starving. You also are now aware of an ache in your legs and back. You move to stretch and scratch a sharp itch, but find your muscles complaining, as though you've been sitting still in an uncomfortable position for a long time. But that can't be, you thought, you only just got home a few minutes ago. You grab your phone from your pocket, and see that an hour has gone by. You have five unanswered calls. You groan, feeling the anger rising in your throat. “Twilight!” You mutter, as you get up from the couch and stumble unsteadily towards your bedroom. “I know you're in there! Asking me questions is one thing, but using magic to mess with my mind is horrible roommate etiquette, Twilight!”

        You open your bedroom and see a pony on your bed, and are disappointed to note that it's not Twilight, nor Vinyl, but somepony new. Once again it's a unicorn. This one has a coat and mane that are both shades of green, and she's wearing some kind of shabby-looking cape, like a pony rain coat made of sackcloth, and she smiles at the sight of you. “Hi!” she says. “You must be

I'm Clover the Clever, so nice to meet you.”

        You stare at her. She looks back at you, her stiff smile slowly wavering. “So... Everything okay?” she asks.

        “There was a floating ball out there,” you say, pointing to the door. “What's going on?”

        “Oh, that was just the Dontmindthe Orb,” Clover says. “It won't hurt you, or so Star Swirl assures me. There's nothing to worry about, everything is fine!” She laughs, and it sounds like someone who has only ever heard laughing described in words, her eyes glancing rapidly about the room before settling on you.

        There is a shuffling and a groan from a lump under the bedsheets. You step to the right to see, but Clover steps up to block you and clears her throat. “That's my teacher, Star Swirl the Bearded. Don't mind him, he's just... really tired. But listen, now that you're here, maybe there's something you can do for me?”

        Her grin is completely fake and her eyes are desperate and uncertain, yet somehow her obvious charade only serves to make her more adorable. She's like a little kid who desperately wants to please in the face of insurmountable obstacles, and you can't help but sympathize. You nod.

        “Great!” Clover leaps down from the bed and races over to your computer. “Can you help me command this device? This strange box promised to show me twenty-seven pictures of things that will give me great faith in your species. It tells me that number twenty-two in particular is 'just so right', but no matter how nicely I ask it won't show me!”

        She pouts and glares at your computer with adorable fury, and you find yourself reaching out a hand and scratching behind her ears to console her. “Yeah, I don't really think that's worth watching.”

        “But it must be,” Clover says, turning her huge pleading eyes on you. “This 'feast of bees' message makes it sound so heartwarming. I want to learn more about your world. Won't you help me?”

        Your patience is quickly running out, and you remind yourself that you want to find out what is going on, and preferably get it to stop ASAP. You are just about to ask what the big idea is, and demand some answers, but then Clover starts humming and wouldn't you know, all of a sudden you don't see any reason to question her after all. It's funny how life works out sometimes, don't you think? It's probably because she's just so adorable, and not anything to do with casual mind-control magic. Definitely.

        You sit there for a while on the computer with Clover next to you, eagerly watching picture after picture of nauseating clickbait. Clover studies them attentively, occasionally asking you to explain details she doesn't understand, while both of you continue to ignore the snoring lump in your bed.

        After far too long, the orb suddenly materializes over the bed, ringin a melodious tone to announce itself. This draws Clover's attention, and she leaps up on the bed to study it. “Finally,” she mutters, as you take the opportunity to close the web browser. “Let's see what you've found...”

        Again you realize that this pony, adorable though she is, is doing something to your thoughts, and you're still pretty sure you disapprove of that sort of thing. “Look, what do you want from me? Why are you here?” You demand. “And don't do that thing again!”

        Clover sighs, and looks down. “I... I'm sorry, mister human, I promise it's nothing harmful. It's just that, we're doing magical research and we need to avoid contaminating our test subjects. It's standard procedure.”

        As she speaks, the orb begins to give off a series of whistling sounds and flashes of light, making her jolt and grimace. “Oh dear.”

        “Oh dear?” Your thoughts begin racing to list a dozen unpleasant meanings for that phrase. “What's going on?”

        “The Dontmindthe Orb has finished processing the data it gathered from your home, and that my teacher has collected in the Umbra surrounding your bed,” Clover says. “It says that your bed has a frankly extreme buildup of corrupt energy anchored in it. I don't understand how this is possible, I've never seen anything like it! It would take many years of somepony, I mean somebody, regularly nurturing the most twisted and depraved of thoughts at length, while lying in—”

        She suddenly falls silent. She glances down at the bed, then over at you, then back to the bed, then back to you again. Her cheeks grow red. “Um, never mind.”

        “It's alright, Clover,” a new voice says, yawning. You and Clover both turn to see that the lump in the bed has risen and revealed itself to be an old stallion with a great and powerful beard, wearing a wizard costume straight out of a fairytale, complete with sequins and bells. “You take my place in the Umbra while I deal with this.”

        “I'm not sure this is going to work, Professor,” Clover says. “The test subject won't stop interfering with the process. I'm trying to keep him away, but it's not working.”

        “Just take my place in the bed, I'll fix it.”

        Clover glances unhappily at the bed. Her eyes flick back to you for a split-second and her muzzle scrunches up in revulsion. “Do I have to?”

        Star Swirl groans loudly and fixes Clover with a glare. Then he starts humming, and Clover relaxes, swaying gently back and forth like a branch in the wind. “Yes, Professor Star Swirl,” she says, her voice dull and sluggish. She then climbs into the bed and slips under the sheets, and begins to snore lightly.

        Your jaw drops. “Did you just use mind magic on your own student?”

        “Student, test subject,” he says. “I am multitasking! This is your bedroom, correct?”

        “So that's a yes then?” you spit, glaring at the stallion. “Yes, this is my bedroom! Seriously, what the hell are you doing and will you please stop?”

        “Would you say strange things have been happening in your bed lately?” Star Swirl the Bearded asks you, ignoring your request.

        You stare at him. The silence stretches out. He does not move. You suspect he is immune to awkwardness.

        “Yes,” you finally say, as dully and heavily as your vocal chords will allow.

        “I and my student came here following a strange magical signature,” Star Swirl says, as if that should mean anything at all to you. “Your bed is cursed. It is the center of some sort of confluence of energies, which erupts in strange events and manifestations. It will need to be destroyed or purified with incredibly powerful magic.” His eyes narrow as he peers deeper into yours. For some reason you lean forward and open your eyes wider for him to see, ignoring the urge to blink. This, you think, is perfectly reasonable and definitely not a result of mind control magic. “Ah yes, it is as I feared. There is a significant trace of it in your mind as well. You may be doomed to live out your existence as a malleable aperture for forces from beyond your world. But I can at least attempt to mitigate the damage like this.”

        He then stamps his hoof on the floor, and in a burst of light, your bed disappears.

        “Our work here is done,” Star Swirl declares, as he poses dramatically and turns to the door. “Come, Clover, we're leaving!”

        There is no reply. He turns back to look over the room, which now has a large empty area where your bed used to be. “Ah horseapples... Oh well, it'll be a learning experience for both of them.”





        Epilogue: Clover the Clever brings your bed back from the other dimension.

        Everything is just fine, and there is absolutely no reason to be suspicious of that fact, you think to yourself as you lay in your coccoon on the couch, listening to the voices in your head that tell you that there is nothing suspicious or unusual about the voices in your head. Everyone has voices in their head. Yours aren't even telling you to kill and kill again, so there's really nothing to worry about.

        Yet.

        You smile as you stare at the ceiling. The voice tells you that you smile, and so you smile. You smile and stare at the ceiling until the doorbell rings. Then you leap up from the couch and loudly proclaim, even though there is no-one to hear you: “That must be the new bed!”

        Everything is going to be fine. Everything is going to be just fine.

        You open the door and sign for the delivery. You get everything moved into your bedroom, you assemble the frame, you lay down the mattress and the sheets, and you step back to admire your work just as a flash of light erupts and your old bed crashes down from a portal in the ceiling, accompanied by a screaming Clover the Clever.

        Your new bed is utterly destroyed. Your old bed is exactly as you remember it, seemingly unaffected by the crash, or by its stay for the past several days in another dimension.

        Clover the Clever falls to the floor and kisses it. “Free! Free at last!” She looks up and sees you, her mane dishevelled and her eyes bloodshot and mad. “Where is he? I'm going to kill him!”

        You take a step back and raise your hands. “He's not here – he left just after you disappeared! He said something about a mysterious high school and I never saw him again!”

        She glares at you, but then her eyes lose their anger. “It's not your fault,” she says softly. She trots slowly to the door, her head hanging low, then stops and turns back. “Oh, I need to warn you about something,” she says. “I've been doing some research in my spare time. Since you've had dealings with Star Swirl there's about a 15% chance that you, and also your bed, are eventually going to be corrupted by dark magic. If that happens, there's about a 50% chance that you'll turn into monsters that somepony else will have to deal with in a thousand years time. I'm not sure why that happens. Good luck.”