> The Nightmare I Need
>  by Dubs Rewatcher
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> One
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight coughed, sputtered, screamed, but nothing could be heard over the roar of wrenching steel and crashing concrete. Skyscrapers and stores and homes fell as one, tossing up enough dust to stain the sky black. It seemed as if she stood in the middle of the apocalypse. Hundreds of thousands of lives crushed in seconds—and all she could do was watch.

She needed to sprint into the wreckage. She needed to save someone, anyone, to make herself useful, to stop being so scared for once in her life.

But her legs trembled. And her stomach heaved. And she couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop wailing like a little girl. She fell to her knees, head in her hands, straining to breathe the dirty air.

You’re pathetic, she thought, even as the dust settled. Fiery ruins lay flat for miles in front of her. Pathetic.

“I’m glad you’ve finally figured it out,” Midnight Sparkle said, landing just a few steps in front of Twilight. She folded her wings and kneeled down to stroke a sharp fingernail along Twilight’s cheek. “I knew you weren’t a complete fool.”

Twilight tried to look into Midnight’s eyes, but hysteria chewed at the edges of her mind, turned her thoughts to mush, so she couldn't even lift her eyes. Chest burning, breaths ragged, Twilight gripped the dirt and asked, “Why—why did you do this?”

Midnight smiled and lifted Twilight’s chin. “Why not?”

“All those people,” Twilight said. “You murdered them!”

“Who cares?”

“Wha—” Twilight gritted her teeth. “I do!”

Midnight rolled her eyes. She lifted a hand into the air, and with a snap of her fingers, all of Canterlot had been brought back to life. Skyscrapers soared and people bustled around them, oblivious to the demon and Twilight, who glanced around with damp eyes.

Twilight gaped. She stood up on quivering legs and took a deep breath—but lost that breath when she saw all her friends, standing just a few yards away, waving. Rainbow, Rarity, even Spike... and Sunset, goddess above, Sunset, standing at the front of the pack, as beautiful as ever. Twilight adjusted her glasses, praying that this wasn’t just some mirage, some trick of the light. And when they didn’t disappear, she allowed herself a laugh and took a step forward.

Midnight snapped her fingers again and fire erupted from the ground, swallowing Twilight’s friends and erasing them from existence. The buildings fell once again.

Before Twilight could even recoil, Midnight leapt forward and grabbed her by the throat, digging her nails deep into Twilight's skin. “Don’t you get it?” Midnight asked as Twilight writhed and scratched at her neck. “You humans—you’re nothing compared to me! I could create a new universe with the flick of a finger and destroy it with a single blink! I could destroy you with even less! You’re worthless!”

Growling, Midnight tossed Twilight onto a chunk of rubble. She landed stomach-first and a spike of pain shot through her body. Her glasses flew off her face, and all the air left her body.

“Especially you,” Midnight said. “You’re worth less than anyone. All these buildings falling so slowly, and you couldn’t save a single person? I thought you cared about them.”

Twilight tried to stand, but collapsed. “I do... I just... I couldn’t...”

Blue sparks weaved between Midnight’s fingers. She raised her arm, pointing right at Twilight’s head.

The last thing Twilight saw was a flame before everything went dark.






Twilight opened her eyes. As she blinked the sleep away, the first thing she noticed was a pair of amazing blue eyes staring right back at her.

Sunset Shimmer leaned forward and gave Twilight a quick peck on the lips. “Hey, cutie.”

Something exploded in Twilight’s cheeks. She recoiled, tumbling backwards and slamming into the couch cushions. “Sunset—!” Twilight yipped, body going rigid. “I mean, uhm, you just, I…”

“Awake yet?” Sunset asked, laughing.

Across the room, Rainbow scowled. “Hey! No making out during band practice. You guys wanna suck face, you can get your own band room.”

“Yeah, listen to Rainbow,” said Applejack, packing up her bass and rolling her eyes. “Everyone knows that she makes all the rules around here.”

Rainbow turned up her nose. “Exactly—wait, are you being sarcastic?”

“Oh, I dunno. What do you think?”

Twilight adjusted her crooked glasses and tried to catch her breath. As her brain kicked back into gear, she took a few mental notes: she was sitting in the CHS band room. She was at band practice—well, not her band. Her friends’ band. She was at band practice, sitting on a couch, and an absolutely beautiful girl kissed her and why hadn’t Twilight kissed her back and what was wrong with her?

And why do I keep having that nightmare?

“If you two want the couch,” said Fluttershy, who Twilight hadn’t even noticed was sitting next to her, “I can move. I don’t mind.”

“It’s fine,” Sunset said, plopping down on Twilight’s other side. She wrapped an arm around Twilight. “I mean, unless Twi really wants to go crazy.”

yes yes yes

“No,” Twilight said, looking down to hide her smile. “I’m alright.”

Sunset smirked, but shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Twilight opened her mouth to respond again, but her mind had already conjured up hours of fantasies, turning all her words into mere babbles—evidently, her subconscious really liked the idea of Sunset recording lab data in a bikini. So she just shut her lips tight and focused on the argument taking place before her.

Rainbow Dash towered over Applejack, yelping, “I can’t believe you’re bailing on us. This is so uncool!”

“You’ll survive,” Applejack said. She unplugged her amp. “Granny Smith is busy and Big Mac’s got football practice, so I gotta take Apple Bloom to the dentist’s office. She got a cavity the size of Principal Celestia’s rear from all those candy apples Pinkie made last week, and I ain’t spending another dinner listening to her whine.”

Rainbow groaned and tugged on her hair. “Can’t it wait? Just give her some booze or something. That’s what my grandpa always used to do with my mom!”

“Doesn’t your mom also say she can talk to squirrels?”

“Yeah, so? It’s true! I’ve seen it!”

Fluttershy winced at every shout, hiding behind her hair. On Twilight’s other side, Sunset sighed and rested her head against Twilight’s. “So, sleepyhead, are we really that boring?” Sunset asked. “Or did you just pull another all-nighter?”

Picking her words more carefully than a hostage negotiator, Twilight said, "You're not boring. I’m just not a fan of this ‘pop punk’ music you all play. It’s not exactly my cup of tea, if you will.”

“Yeah,” Sunset said. “Not enough weird keyboards and screaming cats for you, huh?”

“The screaming cats were in one song. One! And they’re not weird, they’re avant-garde. You know, according to Scientific Orchestra Monthly—”

“Have I ever told you how much I love it when you geek out like this?”

Twilight's motormouth ran out of gas. She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Y’know, when you get all excited and ranty about stuff you like.”

“Doesn’t everyone do that? You rant at me about motorcycles.”

“Well, sure.” Sunset leaned into Twilight. “But you rant better than anyone.”

Twilight blinked a few times. She had no idea whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. As Sunset laid a warm hand on hers, she decided on the former. Sunset’s skin buzzed with energy, like magic flowed through her veins.

“Goddess above,” Sunset said, rubbing Twilight’s palm. “Why are your hands so friggin’ cold?”

“Are they?” Twilight asked, letting Sunset hold her hands. “It is February, you know.”

“You should try drinking ginger root tea,” Fluttershy said. “It always warms me up.”

“Or just buy some gloves,” Sunset said. “I swear, you spent, like, half of winter break emailing me stats on hypothermia. You gotta start taking your own advice.”

“Or maybe I’ll just keep myself cold,” Twilight said, a smile creeping onto her face. “That way you’ll keep holding me.”

Sunset blinked a few times, then snorted. “Oh, you’re cheeky.”

“Did you like that?” Twilight blurted out, beaming. “It was clever, right?”

“You’re killing it, Twi.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Twilight slumped back into the sofa and let Sunset keep massaging her hands. Even with Sunset’s warmth, even with the sweet cinnamon scent of her skin wafting through Twilight’s nose, Twilight couldn’t escape the familiar thought in the back of her head: Good work, idiot. Why don’t you do something right for once? She sighed and tried to push the nagging voice away, to silence it like she had done every day since childhood.

“This sucks,” Rainbow said, sitting down on the armrest next to Sunset. “First Pinkie and Rarity cancel on us, now Applejack’s gotta leave early—worst practice ever.”

Applejack glared. “You could at least wait until I’m out of the room before talking about me like I’m not here.”

“You might as well be gone already.” Rainbow folded her arms. “Seriously. I was, like, two minutes away from getting that guitar solo down perfect!”

Fluttershy raised a finger. “This song doesn’t have a guitar solo.”

“No wonder you guys were tripping me up,” Rainbow said.

“Sunset? Rainbow?” Applejack called, her bass strapped around her torso and a bundle of cables in her arms. “Y’all mind helping me bring the amps and whatnot back to my truck? It’ll go a lot quicker if I get some help.”

Sunset rose to her feet without question. Rainbow mumbled a few curses before walking over.

On most days, Twilight would just be content to sit back and wait for Sunset to finish, so they could leave together. But today, slumped into that couch, she heard the thought return: Do something right. 

“Hey,” Twilight said without thinking. “What about me?”

Sunset, Applejack, and Rainbow froze and looked at her. “What about you?” Rainbow asked.

Twilight flinched—but forced herself to mutter, “I mean, why is it you never ask me to help pack everything away? I can help.”

Applejack waved her off. “We’re fine, Twi. Really. We don’t got that much stuff to haul out, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said with a snicker. “And besides, I think this stuff is a bit too heavy for those noodle arms of yours. No offense.”

“Lay off her,” Sunset said, slapping Rainbow’s shoulder. Her words were tinged with laughter, sending Twilight’s heart into a tailspin.

“What are you talking about?” Twilight asked, very much knowing what Rainbow was talking about. She held her arms close to her chest.

“I don’t mean any offense, Twi,” said Applejack, “but you and Fluttershy ain’t exactly the strongest girls in the world.” Fluttershy nodded.

Twilight just scoffed. “Please. I’m stronger than Fluttershy.”

Silence wrapped around the room.

“Oh, goodness,” Twilight said, covering her mouth. She turned to Fluttershy, who stared with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean that.”

“No, no.” Fluttershy shook her head. “You’re probably right.”

“You wanna help?” Rainbow asked, smile gone. “Why don’t you carry out an amp or something? Shouldn’t be any problem for a bodybuilder like you.”

Twilight felt a breath catch in her throat, but still nodded. “Fine.” She walked over to the equipment on the other side of the room and found the amplifier Rainbow was gesturing to. She gulped; it was a massive black crate, at least three times the size of her torso. She had been ready to just roll it out—only to realize now that it had no wheels.

“You don’t have to do this,” Sunset said, touching Twilight’s arm. “Honestly. We’ve got it covered.”

Words of agreement flitted through Twilight’s mind. One glance down at her noodle arms silenced them.

Twilight grabbed the amp’s handle and pulled. To her credit, she managed to lift it off the ground for at least two seconds—only to drop it again with a gasp and a thud. Already her arms burned. She tried again, clenching her eyes and straining, but it just wouldn’t budge. Every muscle she had screamed for relief, but as long as she felt Sunset watching her…

“C’mon, Twi, stop,” Sunset said, pushing Twilight away. “You’re gonna sprain something.”

Chest heaving, Twilight stumbled backwards and leaned against a piano. With shaking hands she reached into her shirt pocket and snatched out her inhaler.

“Wow. When’s your next powerlifting competition?” Rainbow asked. Applejack smacked her in the back of the head. “Ow! Ugh, none of you guys can take a joke.”

“We’ll get all this stuff,” Sunset said, lifting the amp a few feet off the ground and walking it over to the door. “Don’t worry. Just wait here, okay? We can head over to my apartment after I’m done.”

Twilight rubbed her aching arm. “Yeah.”

The stronger girls headed out, leaving Twilight and Fluttershy alone.







Twilight peered over the top of her textbook. Hands filled with popcorn, she asked, “What year was the Canterlot Institute of Science and Medicine founded?”

Across from her, Sunset tipped back in her chair. “Eighteen eighty-three,” she said, flipping a page in her magazine.

“Correct!” Twilight picked out a single popcorn kernel and tossed it at Sunset. Sunset opened her mouth and chomped at it, but the kernel dinked against her nose and tumbled down, joining the dozens of other kernels that littered her shirt. Twilight rolled her eyes, but giggled when Sunset shot her a pouty glance.

“Next question,” said Twilight, picking up another kernel. “What year did the Institute burn down?”

“Uh.” Sunset pursed her lips for a long while, then chirped, “Trick question! It hasn’t burned down.” She went back to her magazine and opened her mouth for the popcorn. When a few moments passed and it didn’t come, she looked up, only to find Twilight giving her a judging stare. “What? Was I wrong? C’mon, I swear I can catch it in my mouth this time.”

“Nuh-uh.” Twilight tossed Sunset’s popcorn back into the bowl. “No deal.”

“Ugh, you know I suck at history,” Sunset said. “Not everyone can be as smart as you, y’know.”

Twilight beamed at the compliment, but still shot back, “You’re plenty smart! You were that pony princess’ best student, right? You’ve got no excuse.”

“What if turning into a human scrambled my mind?” Sunset asked. Eyes bugging out, she threw her hands to her head. “My poor horse brain can’t handle all this studying!”

Twilight smirked and threw a popcorn kernel at Sunset’s face. It landed right in her mouth. Letting the textbook fall, Twilight said, “You know, as good as that magazine might be, I don’t think Miss Cheerilee will be putting many questions about motorcycles on the test.”

“This isn’t a motorcycle magazine,” Sunset said, scoffing. She flipped a page. “It’s a punk rock magazine.”

“Ah. Much more educational,” Twilight said. “In any case, I don’t think that Miss Cheerilee will oh my goodness that’s a naked lady.”

Sunset had held up her magazine for Twilight to look inside. Sure enough, splayed out over two pages, was a naked woman, her naughty bits obscured by a guitar. Tattoos covered her arms, and her bare body taunted Twilight with its curviness. Her seductive eyes turned Twilight into a stammering mess, her words melting into incomprehensible sounds. Twilight tried to look away, but found her eyes stuck to the page.

She’s just a model. Twilight’s cheeks burned. You’re supposed to stare at her. That’s why she’s so much hotter than you…

Was this what Sunset liked? A perfect rock star with strong arms, perfect skin, and breasts as big as Twilight’s head?

Sunset pointed to the instrument covering the model’s body. “Check out this guitar!”

A long breath escaped Twilight’s lips. Of course, you idiot. She’s looking at the guitar, not the girl. Twilight nodded. “It’s nice.”

Sunset sighed and shot the guitar a dreamy look. “Yeah... would cost me a horn and a wing, though.”

“An arm and a leg.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Twilight smiled and returned to the textbook. As she read, she stole quick glances around Sunset’s apartment. Dirty clothes covered the floor, and whenever Twilight moved she had to pay special attention not to slip on a pair of underwear. A well-worn guitar rested on Sunset’s bed. On her nightstand stood a neat pile of textbooks—never opened, of course. At least, except for when Twilight would come over and Sunset had to convince her that she had totally been studying all day.

But even without studying, Sunset had brains, brawn... as far as Twilight could tell, were they to be characters in a video game, Sunset would be entirely overpowered. Twilight was lucky to have her.

…But was Sunset lucky to have Twilight?

After all, they couldn’t have been more dissimilar. Twilight was small, nervous, weak. But Sunset commanded respect in everything she did; there wasn’t a single person at CHS who didn’t know her name. She held a confidence Twilight could only dream of having—well, having again. She had been that confident once, months ago. But it had only lasted for about five minutes.

“Twi?” Sunset said. “Are you okay?”

Twilight jumped. “Yes! Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been staring at me for about a minute now.”

“Oh.” Twilight wrung her hands. “It’s nothing, really.”

Sunset leaned forward and touched Twilight’s wrestling fingers. “You don’t have to be so nervous, y’know. I can help—I mean, if you need it.”

Damn your tics. Twilight tore her hands apart. She looked down at the table for a moment and tried to gather both her words and the confidence to spit them out. “Do you ever have dreams about our magical forms? The ones we became at the Friendship Games, that is.”

“You mean Midnight and Daydream?” Sunset asked. She grinned. “I still can’t believe Pinkie gave us those stupid names. It’s like we’re superheroes or something.” Her smile weakened a bit. “But, uh, no, I don’t. At least, not anymore. Why, have you?”

“Once or twice,” Twilight said, thinking back to the five times she had had the dream that week. “‘Not anymore?’”

“I mean that I don’t really like thinking about that stuff,” Sunset said. “Superpowered magic, defeating villains… any of it.”

“Why not?” Twilight asked in a high voice. “We were so amazing!”

“I guess it kinda scares me,” said Sunset. She shook her head. “Overloading on magic drove me insane once, and a bunch of people almost died. My friends almost died. Saving the world is cool, yeah, and just researching it is one thing, but I hate having that sort of power come out of me. I don’t deserve it, and I don’t want it.”

“Don’t deserve it? That’s ridiculous.” Twilight pursed her lips. “We experienced something no human has ever experienced in recorded history. For a few moments, we were the strongest creatures on Earth.”

“Yeah, and it almost killed us both,” Sunset muttered. “My stupid crown and your magic-stealing machine. I’m glad they’re both gone.”

Twilight shook her head. “We have magic, Sunset. How can you not find that amazing?”

“Because I don’t, okay?” Sunset said. “Can we just drop this? Seriously, I don’t like talking about it.”

Twilight had a hundred more comebacks, a thousand more questions—but threw them away. What are you doing? She couldn’t bear to look into Sunset’s wistful eyes. She’s right: that power drove you insane, too. Why would you defend something so awful?

Biting her tongue, Twilight tried to focus on the textbook. Sunset went back to her magazine, not saying a word. An awkward sort of quiet filled Twilight’s ears and weighed her down like sludge. She leaned further into her book and narrowed her eyes, but with the thoughts raging in her head, the words may as well have been in another language.

She closed the textbook. “I think maybe I should get going—”

“I’m sorry,” Sunset said with a sigh. “I didn’t mean to jump on you like that. I sorta take magic for granted, being from Equestria and all, but you must have so many questions. You’re probably more scared than me.”

Not particularly, Twilight thought, nodding.

“I don’t want us to leave angry. That sucks.” Sunset smiled. “Why don’t you spend the night here? We can order pizza or something, and I’m pretty sure I paid my cable bill this month. Pretty sure.”

“Spend the night…?” Twilight repeated, jaw going slack. Her gaze flicked over to the only bed in the apartment.

“Yep.” A glint in her eye, Sunset leaned forward and shot Twilight a lazy glance. “And all my pajamas are dirty, so we’re just gonna have to sleep naked.”

On cue, Twilight’s mind provided a helpful visual.

Mere moments before Twilight’s face burst into flame, Sunset laughed and shook her head. “Sorry, Twi. I just couldn’t resist.”

“I think you tried this same routine on me last week,” said Twilight, regaining control of her breathing.

“And I think it went over about as well,” Sunset said, winking. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine!” Twilight said, heart pounding. “It’s fine, really.” She paused for a moment, eyes falling back onto the guitar magazine. “But… why not? I mean, not that I want to do it if you don’t want to, because I know that it can be very personal and strange and—”

“We are talking about sex, right?” Sunset said, making Twilight go stiff. “I appreciate the offer, but... not tonight, I don’t think. I guess I just don’t feel comfortable enough in this body yet. I’m still working out the kinks, y’know? No pun intended.” She snort-laughed, but waved a hand. “I dunno. It’s stupid.”

Twilight could listen to that laugh of hers for days. “Let me call home, see what I can do.” Twilight pulled out her phone, stood up, and walked away. As she scrolled through her phonebook, however, she noticed Sunset flip through her magazine again, opening up to a page with women just as bare.







Hours later, with the scent of greasy pizza still hanging in the air, Twilight lay on Sunset’s bed, eyes closed, letting sleep invade her mind. Next to her, Sunset sat cross-legged, fingering the strings of her guitar. Soft chords tumbled through the air. Occasionally Sunset’s toes would brush up against Twilight’s side, sending a tickle creeping through her body and jolting her back awake.

Kissing was nice, sure. But sometimes all Twilight wanted was to be near Sunset—to hear the sound of her fingers against metal strings.

“Sunset,” said Twilight at the end of a riff, “how are you so perfect?”

Sunset snorted. “How are you so cheesy?”

“Because I just ate half a pizza.”

“Of course.” Sunset shook her head. “I’m not that amazing.”

“Yes, you are. Don’t deny it,” Twilight said. “You’re funny, smart, creative. You've got it all.”

“The day I ‘have it all’ is the day Tartarus freezes over.”

Twilight blinked.

“It’s not gonna happen,” Sunset clarified, chuckling. “I’m not perfect, Twi. Nowhere near it.”

“Prove it.”

Sunset stopped strumming and let her gaze drift high into the air. After a few silent seconds, she said, “I have a stupidly short temper. You know that: I already snapped at you once tonight.”

“Okay, sure, but that doesn’t count,” Twilight said. “I was pressing you on a sensitive topic, and I shouldn’t have.”

Sunset raised a brow. “Remember last week, when I totally blew up at Pinkie after she accidentally spilled applesauce on my jacket? I swear, I thought her hair was gonna stay straight forever. Or last month, when we went out for ice cream, and the lady said they were out of pistachio?”

Twilight giggled. “You wouldn’t stop grumbling for fifteen minutes.”

“Well, yeah, I mean what kind of stupid ice cream shop runs out of—” Sunset took a deep breath. “So there’s that. And I’m lazy.”

“You are not lazy.”

“I think most of my teachers would take my side on this one,” Sunset said.

“That’s just because they’re not challenging you!” Twilight said, sitting up. “You’re too smart for your own good. And ‘being too awesome’ isn’t a real flaw.”

“If you say so.” Sunset went back to strumming her guitar. “But if I’m awesome, then you’re friggin’ transcendent.”

Twilight’s cheeks heated up. “Really?”

“Really,” Sunset said. She grinned. “In fact, you’re so amazing, that when you look at the dictionary entry for the word, it has a picture of your face.”

“And you call me cheesy.”

“I’m not very good at improv,” Sunset said, looking away. Her eyes lit up. “Hey, there’s another flaw! Take that.”

Twilight rolled her eyes and tried not to smile. Lying back down, she closed her eyes. 

The minutes passed, and Twilight soon felt Sunset slide into bed next to her, warmth radiating from her golden skin. As the lights went off, Twilight smiled and reached for Sunset’s hand under the covers. She took a sharp breath at the tingle of Sunset’s fingers tracing the inside of her palm.

Sunset’s compliment blazed through Twilight’s mind—Transcendent! she kept repeating, letting the word melt into her thoughts, drizzling over her imagination like chocolate on strawberries. She gripped the pillows and resisted the urge to lick her lips; maybe tomorrow they could wake up early and go out for breakfast, or maybe stay in and order something, or—

She’s lying to you, a voice in the back of Twilight’s mind said. It sounded so similar to all the other fearful thoughts she suffered through every minute of every day, and yet, just the slighest bit fainter, fuzzier—Twilight couldn't explain it. She doesn’t think you’re ‘transcendent.’ She’s just saying that to make you feel better.

Twilight opened her eyes and stared into the darkness for a moment.

Yeah, she thought, clamping them shut again. Probably.
> Two
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight’s fingers felt warm wrapped up with Sunset’s. The two walked along a snowy forest trail, hands intertwined, bodies pressed together. The two of them took this path home from school often; hidden away from the rest of the world, Twilight felt as if she and Sunset were the only two humans alive. Around them, snowflakes fluttered down like tiny stars, twinkling in the sunlight and shining on their skin. Sunset’s sweet cinnamon scent surrounded Twilight—the same scent that coated all of Sunset’s clothes, and most of Twilight’s; the same scent that always followed Sunset, even after when covered with sweat, with motor oil. It filled Twilight’s nostrils, and the heat in her fingers soon flooded the rest of her body.

As if trying to drive Twilight totally crazy, Sunset giggled and brushed a finger along the inside of Twilight’s palm. Twilight flinched at the tickling tingle, but didn’t pull away. She let Sunset’s soft fingers press into her skin, tracing the creases and bumps like they were braille. Sunset leaned in close and touched her head to Twilight’s. She let out a whispery sigh, which traipsed down Twilight’s neck and nearly made her fall.

Twilight threw a glance up at Sunset, only to be met by a mischievous grin. Sunset pressed her lips to Twilight’s, and soon the two had stopped in the middle of the path. Silence coated the forest, broken only by the occasional gasp or murmured curse as Sunset stuck a hand into Twilight’s hair and pulled her closer.

Thoughts bulleting past, Twilight closed her eyes and tried to lose herself in the sweet taste of Sunset’s tongue, the tenderness of her lips, that cinnamon scent, goddess be praised that smell don't stop don't stop.

This was everything Twilight wanted.

Sunset pulled away and chuckled—but her voice sounded strange.

Twilight opened her eyes and screamed.

Midnight Sparkle shoved a palm into Twilight’s chest, sending her flying backwards. The forest had disappeared, replaced by an endless gray wasteland. Twilight hit the dirt hard, rolling a few times before going limp.

“You taste like mud,” Midnight said, walking closer. “I’m amazed that Sunset girl can even stand looking at you, let alone touching you.”

“You!” Twilight scrambled backwards, farther and farther away until she hit a boulder. Midnight just kept walking, pinning Twilight to the rock. “Leave me alone!”

“Do you really think you can ever be happy?” Midnight asked. She smirked. “That you could ever make someone else happy?”

Twilight glared. “Shut up.”

Midnight sped forward, grabbed Twilight’s collar, hefted her into the air. “What was that?” she asked as Twilight clawed at her hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Twilight said. “Let me go!”

“That’s what I thought.” Midnight tightened her grip, tearing Twilight's collar. “Just a sniveling coward, as usual.”

Twilight kicked and punched and spasmed, but Midnight didn’t budge. Tears spilled down her face.

Laughing, Midnight brought Twilight down until the two were at eye level. “You’re nothing without me,” the demon said. “I was the best thing to ever happen to you, and destroying me was the biggest mistake of your life! You know it. I know it.” She brought her face close to Twilight’s, so Twilight could smell her sewage-scented breath, could see the glint of her fangs. “Sunset Shimmer knows it. You’re no more than dead weight to her. Might as well not be breathing.”

Twilight tried to argue—but could only cry.

“Who could ever love you?” Midnight asked. She licked her lips. “You’re not worth anyone’s time.”

Midnight pressed her lips to Twilight’s. Twilight whimpered and tried to break away, but Midnight’s grip was too tight. She could do nothing as Midnight’s tongue pushed its way into her mouth, as Midnight’s dark magic flowed through her veins like burning oil. It might have been only a dream, but Twilight could feel everything.

“Accept it,” Midnight whispered into her mouth. “You need me.”








Twilight snapped up and very nearly fell out of bed. She kept one hand gripping the blanket and ran the other up and down her body, grimacing at the sweat coating her skin. She whipped her eyes around the room. She was still in Sunset’s apartment, under Sunset’s sheets, wearing Sunset’s pajamas—and sure enough, Sunset was still sleeping next to her, completely safe.

Trembling, Twilight lay back down and stared at Sunset’s sleeping face. Drool poured from her lips onto the pillow, and her hair was frizzed out in every direction. Passed out, Sunset was at her ugliest; and yet she still looked like a queen.

With stinging eyes, Twilight reached a hand toward her girlfriend. All Twilight wanted was to hold her, to be held, to make these awful dreams go away—but she forced herself back. Sunset wouldn’t want to be touched like that. Not by you.

Nausea roared in her stomach. Rubbing the dampness from her eyes, Twilight crawled out of bed and stumbled across the dark apartment, headed for the single light in the distance and doing her best not to fall to the floor and break something and make Sunset upset again. Thoughts burning, mind screeching, she slipped into the bathroom and collapsed against the sink.

Twilight couldn’t look her reflection in the eye. She just stared at her own scrawny body, barely visible under the baggy pajamas. Sunset was twice the woman Twilight was, in size and heart. How Twilight ever thought she could impress Sunset—could ever even make her happy—was insane. Sunset deserved more. Sunset deserved anyone else.

“Calm down.” Twilight raised a handful of sink water to her face and splashed it across her eyes. “This is just the fatigue speaking. You’re exhausted, and these dreams aren’t helping.”

And what of those dreams? They terrified Twilight; just the thought of Sunset being hurt made her gag. But everything else… the power. The confidence. Midnight had no fear. Anything she wanted to do she did. Nothing ever stood in her way—no stupid anxiety, no stupid asthma. She never second-guessed herself. Never flinched at every errant sound in an empty bathroom. Twilight couldn’t even get a rude word in without begging for mercy a second later.

What was the difference between Midnight and her? Wings? A skimpy skirt?

Magic.

Twilight gripped the sink. Even now, she could still feel the tingle of Midnight’s power inside her. She had sworn off studying magic after the Games, but… but could magic help her? Could magic make her strong enough to get over these nightmares, to finally convince Sunset she was worth loving?

“No!” she shout-whispered. “No, no. Stupid.”

She cast one final look at her awful body before turning out the light and hobbling back to bed.

Sitting down, she took a moment to adjust her too-big shirt—but froze when she looked at Sunset’s nightstand. Resting on the shelf, underneath an alarm clock and a coffee-stained shirt, was a journal. The journal. Just gazing at it, Twilight was sure she could feel a sort of electricity darting along her skin, giving her goosebumps.

Sunset was still sleeping. Twilight was alone.

She grabbed the journal and slipped it into her bag.







The next day, sitting safely in a bathroom stall with her feet up on the seat, Twilight opened the journal. The first few dozen pages were filled to the brim, half with Sunset’s messy scrawls, and the other with someone’s finely manicured cursive—Twilight had a pretty good guess who that belonged to, especially considering it matched her own handwriting perfectly. 

Twilight let her overprotective girlfriend instincts take over for a moment as she skimmed through the book, searching for anything lecherous. The closest thing she found was Sunset commenting on how “disturbingly large” human breasts could be, sandwiched between two Friendship Lessons about keeping promises to friends.

Trying to keep the image of Sunset's boobs out of her mind, Twilight flipped to a new page.



Testing, testing. Princess Twilight of Equestria, do you read me? This is Twilight Sparkle of Earth. Please respond as soon as possible.



It took only a few minutes for a new message to appear below her own.



Hello, human Twilight! It’s great to hear from you again—even if it is just past midnight here in Equestria. One of these days we really should work out the temporal discrepancies between my world and yours. You can’t imagine how many messages I’ve missed from Sunset because she sent them while I was asleep.

What can I help you with?

P.S.: Normally I’d tell you to just call me Twilight, but considering the circumstances, using my title is probably wise. I would also accept “Twilight Prime.”

P.P.S.: That was a joke. I don’t know how well humor crosses dimensions.





It crosses just fine, thanks. Although I might argue that I’m the real Twilight Prime; I do have opposable thumbs, after all.

In any case, I was wondering if you could possibly answer some questions I have about magic. Namely, is there a safe way to use magic in order to induce physiological and psychological changes? Say, a growth in muscle mass, or a change in personality?





No. Not permanently, at least. I know dozens of transfiguration spells, but they all have a time limit. You can grow a third set of hooves for one hour, let’s say, but as soon as the hour passes they’ll disappear. As for psychological changes, spells exist, yes, but none of them are exactly safe. Messing with the brain is playing with fire. Just one mistake could cripple you for life.

That being said, everything I just described has only been proven to be true for ponies. Most unicorn scholars don’t even know humans like you exist. For all I know, magic meant to grow a third set of hooves here could turn you into a tomato, if it had any effect at all.

Why do you ask?





Just curious.

On a possibly related note: you’ve watched each of my friends take on a semi-magical form, some hybrid of pony and human. They all call it “ponying up.” Upon activation, each of them gains enhanced reflexes and a heightened sensory array. How might one go about triggering this transformation?





You’d need to have some connection to the Elements of Harmony, first of all, even if that just means being touched by their magic. Aside from that—honestly, I’m not quite sure. Sunset was studying it at one point, wasn’t she? Couldn’t you just ask her?





Can’t. Sorry.





I see? Well, as far as I’ve heard, your anthropomorphic forms are powered by emotions. To transform, you would need to find something that gives you a true emotional and adrenal high. Winning a competition, for instance. Making art, falling in love, the smell of old books.



The possibilities raced through Twilight's mind. Earning a full scholarship to college! Discovering the cure for the common cold!



Sexual climax?



Twilight mentally slapped herself. It took an unusually long time for the Princess to respond.



Possibly? If that’s the highlight of your day, go for it. Just maybe not in public.





Thank you, Princess Twilight. I think I have an idea of how this all works now.





Sure. Just be careful, alright? Magic is strange. Volatile. Not something you want to mess with without taking some precautions.



Twilight rolled her eyes. She was a scientist, not an idiot; if anyone knew about safety, it was her. She set the journal down on her knees and opened her bag—but not to put it away. Instead, she pulled out a pair of scissors.

The journal's magic tingled on Twilight's skin like television static as she sliced out the offending pages. Twilight cringed with every new cut—ruining a perfectly good book like this sent her stomach twirling. But it had to be done. Twilight couldn't risk making Sunset upset. Not again.

She did her best to make the cuts as clean as possible, and by the time the end-of-period bell rung, the journal looked as if Twilight hadn't even touched it. Surely Sunset wouldn't notice three measly pages missing, right?

Oh my goddess she's gonna notice. She's too smart not to. She's gonna notice and she's gonna hate you hate you forever. Twilight closed her eyes and shook her head, as if trying to fling the anxiety away, but she only made the thoughts grow stronger, stronger, until her brain felt like it would spill out her ears—

It doesn't matter. She's already planning on leaving you—breaking her trust like this will just speed up the process.

Twilight stuffed the journal away and ran out of the bathroom. She walked to her next class with her head down, letting the roar of the high school halls drown her thoughts, drown that terrible voice in the back of her mind.

"Sunset does like me," she mouthed, over and over until the words became meaningless. And I'm gonna prove I'm not a loser.







Twilight centered a beaker of water over the flame. “Alright,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “We’ll leave that to boil and come back when it’s ready.”

“Should we record anything?” Sunset asked. “Time? Temperature of the flame?”

“That’s a good idea—where’s my pencil?” Twilight patted the pockets of her lab coat and spun around, eyes darting between every flat surface. “Ugh, not again. How am I supposed to record anything without my pencil? Quick, help me find it!”

“Twilight,” said Sunset in a calm voice, stopping her girlfriend mid-spin. “Where was it last time?”

Twilight blinked a few times, then reached up to touch her ear. Sure enough, a stubby yellow pencil fell to the ground. “Oh,” she said, cheeks going pink under Sunset’s gaze. “Nevermind.” She set to work recording her variables.

Smirking, Sunset hopped up onto the other end of Twilight’s workbench and bobbed her head in time to the music floating from Twilight's radio. Well, tried to bob her head; as soon as she began, the drums disappeared, replaced by a screechy electronic violin and a xylophone. Twilight’s favorite song.

The two of them had been cooped up in Twilight’s lab—better known to her family as the garage—for hours now, working their way through Twilight’s backlog of experiments. Over in the corner, Spike slept in his doggy bed, tail twitching every so often.

“So,” Sunset said. “Boiling water. Very scientific.”

“Hey, give water the credit it’s due!” Twilight scolded with a smile. “I don’t know how things work in Equestria, but it’s pretty important here.”

“Yeah, we just drink pure friendship,” Sunset said. “But seriously, what’s got us working so hard today? I haven’t seen you this busy since... heck, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this busy.”

Smile wilting a bit, Twilight moved over to another workbench, above which hung a plethora of multicolored chemicals and liquids. Scraps of metal and broken machine parts lay strewn across the table. Twilight pushed aside a half-constructed toaster and put her clipboard down.

She thought back to Princess Twilight’s advice—that her transformation would only come with an emotional high. Twilight loved few things more than science, and the joy that came from finishing a difficult experiment was unlike most anything in the world. Thus, it only made sense that it would be science which would lead her to the magical outcome she so desired. Sure, they had already worked through her entire backlog. And sure, now Twilight was just thinking of new experiments off the top of her head. But the transformation was on its way, surely.

Not that Sunset knew about any of this. As soon as she had ended her conversation with the Princess, Twilight had slipped the diary right back into Sunset’s bag. Sunset didn’t like talking about all of this magic stuff, right? No need to worry her. Not yet. Not until Twilight was stronger.

“I just figured today was as good a time as any to work,” Twilight said, forcing her voice to stay steady. “No use in procrastinating, right?”

“Right. Hey, speaking of procrastination,” Sunset began, giving a sheepish smile, “how much would I need to pay to have you write my ten-page paper on the scientific method?”

Twilight spun around and shot Sunset a glower. “You still haven't started that?”

“I’ve got my first paragraph!”

Twilight tightened her frown.

“Hey, Mister Doodle only assigned it like a week ago,” Sunset said, holding her hands up defensively.

“You’re a scientist!” Twilight said. “This should be easy for you!”

“Yeah, and that’s what makes it so boring. And you know I’ve never really been into the whole theory part of it.” Sunset pouted. “Besides, you remember the last time I tried to tell Mister Doodle about all my experiments back in Equestria. He looked at me like a nutjob.”

“To be fair, you did start out by saying you had spent two weeks interviewing cows.” Twilight rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Well, I can give you some help if you need it—although I don’t see how you can possibly write a halfway decent paper on the scientific method in only ten pages...” When she faded out, so did the music from the radio. Twilight clapped and walked over. “Ooh, next album!”

“Uh-huh.” As Twilight scurried away, Sunset slid off the workbench and circled around the lab, examining the walls. What few inches that weren’t loaded with equipment were loaded with blue ribbons, gold certificates, and photos of a young Twilight holding them all. Sunset let out a low whistle. “Jeez. Have you always been a genius?”

“Huh?” Twilight glanced over at Sunset, then cringed. “Oh, those? My dad just likes to keep them hung up—they don’t mean much to me.”

“They should!” Sunset picked up a photo of Twilight next to a microscope twice her size. “I mean, did you build this? How long did it take?”

“A week or two?” Twilight said, rubbing her arm. “Much longer than it should have, in any case. I’m not very good at engineering.”

“Man,” said Sunset, setting the photo back down, “I’d love to be able to do something like that.” 

That sent Twilight reeling. Sunset, wanting to be more like her? The idea was improbable, but... but maybe not impossible. Twilight smiled and stood up a bit straighter. She still had that big microscope stowed away somewhere. Maybe they could use it in an experiment somehow.

“Hey, what’s this?” Sunset asked. She reached over and grabbed a picture that sat at the very back of a shelf, covered in cobwebs.

Twilight leaned forward to see the photo. She went pale.

The picture showed a much younger Twilight standing in the middle of a field, decked out in baggy white pants and a pinstripe baseball shirt. She wore a helmet at least two sizes too big, and held an aluminum bat at an awkward angle behind her head.

“Is this you?” Sunset asked, chuckling. “What is this, Little League or something?”

“Yeah,” said Twilight in a tiny voice. She stared at her feet. “My dad made me do it when I was little.” She searched for anything more to add, but could only come up with, "I wasn’t very good. At all.”

Sunset scoffed. “Come on. You couldn’t have been that bad.”

“I got cut from the team in a month.”

“What? I thought Little League was a no-cut sport.”

Twilight sighed. “It is.”

The two took an involuntary moment of silence for Twilight’s baseball career.

“Oh. Um, well, that’s okay,” Sunset sputtered, putting the photo back. She laughed. “Have I ever told you about when Princess Celestia wanted me to learn how to play the tuba? I didn’t even make it to my first recital before half the castle staff went on strike.”

Twilight let out a laugh and nodded, but any pride she had was long gone. She wrung her hands, cursing herself for not thinking to get rid of all the pictures before Sunset had arrived.

“So!” Sunset said, clapping. “Back to the present. What’s next? Is the water boiling yet?”

“Not yet. Just some vapor.” Twilight glanced around and tapped her chin. “While we’re waiting... well, I did have an idea to build a sort of kibble maze for Spike. You know, like cheese mazes for mice?”

“Kibble?” Spike yipped from the corner, head shooting up. “Where?”

Sunset waved him off. “Not yet, Spike.”

Spike growled, but went back to cuddling his chicken chew toy.

Twilight thrust a fist into the air. “Let’s get started!”

The tinny ring of a cell phone came from Sunset’s pocket. Sunset pulled it out and spent a second staring at the screen in confusion—then went white. “Oh, crap!”

“What’s wrong?” Twilight asked, smile wilting. She watched Sunset run across the room and take off her labcoat. “Where are you going? The water isn’t even boiling yet!”

“Sorry Twi,” Sunset said, picking up her backpack. “I completely forgot about it, but like two weeks ago, I promised Rainbow Dash that I would help her practice for soccer tryouts. The spring season’s coming up, and she wants to make captain this time. And you know how obnoxious she can get about practicing enough.”

“Yes, of course. It’s just...” Twilight fidgeted in place. “Can’t you just, y’know, not go? Tell Rainbow that you’re busy?”

Sunset shrugged. “Yeah, but that’d be kinda rude, wouldn’t it? She’s already waiting for me at the field, and I did make a promise, after all.” She chuckled. “According to the ‘Friendship Lessons’ Princess Twilight is always sending me, honoring promises is, like, über important. You understand, right?”

Dozens of protests crawled up Twilight’s throat. The only word that came out was, “Sure.”

“Awesome! Thanks for not being horribly angry at me,” Sunset said with a grin. She stepped out of the garage door. “I’ll text you tonight, okay? See ya!”

“See ya,” Twilight repeated, barely lifting her hand for a wave. Sunset hurried out, leaving Twilight to stand by herself, arms hanging limp. She felt like a old and rotten ragdoll, thrown in a closet and abandoned.

Across the room, Spike’s ears drooped. “Twi?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

Sunset hates you.

“I’m fine,” Twilight said, flinching. 

Spike hopped out of his bed and ran over to Twilight. “Are you sure?” he asked, rubbing his head against her leg. “Because you look like you’re about to cry. I haven’t seen you this sad since that time Indigo Zap found your secret lab at Crystal Prep and smashed all your beakers!”

The memory played out in Twilight’s mind. She hadn’t done anything then, either. She just let Indigo bully her without a single protest. Indigo hadn’t even gotten caught. All because Twilight was a coward—and would always be a coward.

This wouldn't have happened if you had magic. If you weren't such a loser.

“I think I just want to be alone,” Twilight said, crossing her arms tightly in front of her chest.

“Alone?” Spike asked. He gave an excited yip. “I’m not leaving you alone. You need a new lab assistant now that Sunset’s gone, don’t you? I’m gonna stay and help!”

“Mom left her new shoes out,” Twilight spat. “They’re in her bedroom, next to the dresser.”

Spike gasped and sprinted out of the garage.

Finally alone, Twilight closed her eyes and walked over to a stool in the middle of the room. She flumped down and let her head hang between her knees for a moment before looking up at her workbench.

The beaker of boiling water had melted, and flames covered about half the desk, jumping from paper to paper.

Cursing, Twilight grabbed her spare fire extinguisher, tore off the safety pin, and launched a hefty dose of foam at her workbench. A sharp hiss cut through the garage as the fire drowned under Twilight’s assault. Scorch marks covered the wooden table, and the stench of burning rubber filled the air. Twilight kept shooting until the canister was empty, then waited. When a few seconds had passed without anything else exploding, she ran over to the melted beaker.

She grabbed it out of the foam, then dropped it when it almost burnt her. What little pride she had left disappeared.

“This is a plastic beaker,” Twilight said aloud, as if explaining it to herself. “I put a plastic beaker on an open flame?” Gritting her teeth, she glanced up at her wall of supplies. Sure enough, there hung the glass beaker she had meant to use. “I must have grabbed the plastic by mistake.” She forced a smile. “Silly mistake. Anyone could have done it.”

It’s a stupid mistake. That Princess was right to think you were an idiot.

Twilight sighed but counted her blessings that her parents weren’t home. If they found out she had nearly burned down the house—again—she’d have her garage/laboratory access cut off for a month.

Sometimes being a scientist sucked.

Nevertheless, she took a puff from her inhaler and set to work wiping up the foam. The fire had burnt most of her papers to a crisp, rendering hours of work almost useless.

Not that they hadn’t been useless already. She still couldn’t feel any magic. She still didn’t have wings, or long hair, or a new set of ears. Had Princess Twilight’s advice been wrong? Had Twilight wasted her day for nothing?

“At least I got to spend time with Sunset,” she whispered.

Only by lying to her. If she knew the truth about what you were doing, she’d never have come. She’d have spent the entire day with Rainbow Dash.

Twilight’s eyes narrowed unconsciously, and she had to stop for a moment just to take a deep breath. Rainbow’s awful smirk flashed through her thoughts. Rainbow. Sunset had the chance to spend time with Twilight, her girlfriend, and had chosen to hang out with that obnoxious meathead instead.

Twilight knew that wasn’t ‘friendly’ or whatever, but it was true. Everyone said Rainbow was obnoxious. Even Sunset.

So why are they together?

Once the workbench was clear, she grabbed two random bottles off her wall and began unloading them into separate beakers. Maybe basic chemistry would do the trick—getting back to her roots.

When Twilight mixed the chemicals together, they fizzed for a few seconds, then went flat. Twenty dollars’ worth of supplies gone, all for a jar of urine-yellow liquid. She cursed and pushed it to the side.

What was she doing wrong? What could bring her that high she needed and the magic to impress Sunset? She needed something new, something difficult...

Twilight turned around and reached into a box of random equipment, only to wince as she cut her finger on a piece of scrap metal. Grumbling, she pulled the metal out and threw it on the workbench.

It was a rusted clamshell case, like one of those makeup mirrors Rarity carried around. But more importantly, Twilight realized with a start: it was an early prototype for her magic channeling device. The one that had given birth to Midnight Sparkle. The one that had almost destroyed the universe.

Twilight caught herself smiling.

She had been looking for a new project, right? Something difficult that she could really focus on? It had taken her months to build the first channeling device—but she still had loads of spare parts, and a second try would only take a few days, a week at most.

“This is stupid,” she whispered. “Idiotic. I’m going to get myself killed.”

This is science, said that strange voice again. Nothing dangerous about it. You know what went wrong with your device the first time. Fix it. Control the magic. Make Sunset love you.

“I guess... yeah. Yeah!” Twilight bandaged up her finger and drew in a few long breaths. “Just another experiment. Recreating the conditions of my last transformation. Sunset’s been studying this too, hasn’t she? She’ll be so excited to see my results!”

She reached for a screwdriver and set to work.







“Alright,” Cheerilee said, her voice laced with venom. She pointed at a picture of a bearded man in a long robe, which was taped to the blackboard. “For the third time: who is credited with founding the city of Canterlot?”

Pinkie Pie raised her hand.

Cheerilee glared. “No, Miss Pie, it is not Canter McLot.”

Pinkie put her hand down.

“Anyone? Anyone at all?” Cheerilee asked. She stared at her students, all of whom just stared back—well, most. Rainbow was sleeping, and Rarity was painting her nails. “We’ve been studying him for a week now!” Still no answer. Cheerilee dragged a palm down her face and collapsed into her chair. “Fine. Miss Sparkle, help us out, please?”

In the back of the room, Twilight stared at her lap. “Hm?” She glanced up and found the entire class watching her. She flinched away, very nearly tipping her chair over. “Ah, uhm… Starswirl the Bearded?”

Cheerilee nodded. “Good to know someone is paying attention. Thanks again, Twilight.”

“No problem,” Twilight said before returning her gaze to her lap.

Under the desk, Twilight fiddled with her new channeling device. It had taken her a bit longer than expected to work out all the bugs, and technically she wasn’t sure it worked yet, but today she was taking it out for its first test run. Part of her felt bad for testing it out in school, but another part assured her that this was the only way to make sure it functioned correctly.

And besides, in the two weeks it had taken to build, Sunset had helped Rainbow practice two more times, and Twilight had suffered through six more dreams. They all ended with Midnight shaming and assaulting her, each attempt more violent, more disturbing than the last. That morning, she had woken up with her hands on her own throat, trying to pry Midnight’s away. Eight hours of sleep a night be damned; Twilight was barely getting two. She only prayed that fixing up her device and finally getting another taste of the magic she so craved would save her.

As Cheerilee launched into another lesson about Canterlotan history, Twilight focused her gaze on Rarity, who sat just a few seats away. Crossing her fingers and toes, Twilight turned on her device.

Unlike the old one, this device didn’t suddenly snap open and start ripping magic from anyone it could find. Rather, Twilight was able to edge it open, revealing a soft purple light. A familiar purple fog snaked out of the clamshell case. The smoke slithered along the floor, through legs and over feet, until it reached Rarity. It latched onto her ankle and seemed to disappear, as if it were melding with her skin.

At once, Twilight could see the meter on the outside of the case light up. A single tick flashed, indicating that channeling was in progress. There were still twenty-four other ticks to be filled—not that she had to capture all the energy in one day. Baby steps.

Twilight watched Rarity with hawk-like eyes, making sure to take notes as the smoke crawled along Rarity’s feet. She recorded every twitch, every sigh, every hair flourish—there were quite a few of those. Once ten minutes had passed and four ticks were filled, Twilight snapped the case shut, destroying the purple tendril. She watched Rarity for a minute afterward, and only moved on after making sure Rarity wasn’t going to pass out.

As the period passed, Twilight did the same thing to Pinkie and Rainbow. She swore when Pinkie reached down to scratch her leg, and nearly had a heart attack when Rainbow yawned—at least, until she remembered that Rainbow had been snoozing anyway.

Once class ended, Twilight stuffed her device away. It was already warm to the touch, and if one looked closely, they could see it glowing through her pants pocket.

Outside the room, Twilight stopped her friends. “Hey, girls?” she asked, unable to meet their eyes. “Are you… are you all feeling alright? Like, are you tired, or anything?”

Rainbow stretched and grinned. “Nah. That was the best nap I’ve had in months.”

“I’m good!” Pinkie chirped.

Rarity smiled. “I’m feeling fine. A bit peckish maybe, but not tired. Why? Are you feeling alright, darling?”

Twilight rubbed the back of her neck. “Uh, I think maybe I’m getting a cold.”

“Oh, you poor thing!” Rarity said, throwing a hand to her heart. “This winter weather is just dreadful, isn’t it? Come. I’m sure Granny Smith would be more than willing to make you a warm cup of soup.” She took Twilight’s hand and walked on, dragging the scrawny girl along like a suitcase.

Rushing to follow after, Twilight kept her head down. She just hoped she wouldn’t run into Sunset in the cafeteria—she wasn’t ready to explain her experiment just yet.







With the sun dipping close to the horizon and a soft February breeze rolling through the trees, Sunset and Twilight walked down a frozen forest trail, headed for Twilight’s home—a trail that Twilight hadn’t walked since seeing it in her nightmares a few weeks back. With every step, Twilight expected Midnight to step out from behind a tree and tear Sunset away from her.

Not possible, she repeated in her head. Not possible, not possible. I’ve got all the magic under control. She touched the device in her pocket but flinched away from the sharp heat.

The air was below freezing, but Twilight may as well have been in a sauna. She could feel the channeling device hot against her leg. A few more minutes, and she was sure it would burn a hole in her jeans. Every few moments a jolt of… something would spark from it, shooting into her leg and through her limbs. Her entire body tingled with energy. She felt like a taser.

“I swear, if Mr. Doodle makes us dissect another stupid frog, I’m suing.” Sunset tossed her phone high into the air and caught it on the way down. “Like, he knows that it makes me uncomfortable. I’ve forged notes from my ‘mom.’ I’m two seconds away from just telling him I’m a freakin’ magical horse, y’know?”

Twilight gripped her backpack’s straps. “Yeah.”

“Heh, maybe not. He’d probably just try to dissect me.”

“Yeah.”

Hopping over a frozen stream, Sunset shot Twilight a sideways glance. “You alright? I know you have a cold or whatever, but you’re being pretty quiet.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Twilight said, gulping. “Everything’s fine. Fine.”

“You sure?” Sunset frowned. “Did you manage to pony up yet?”

“Pony—?” Twilight stared at Sunset. “How did you know...?”

“I hope you don’t mind, but I read your conversation with Princess Twilight—er, Twilight Prime,” Sunset said with a grin. “You did write it in my journal, after all. Although I don’t even remember lending it to you.”

"But I cut those pages out!" Twilight said. She clapped a hand over her mouth. oh my goddess shut up you're an idiot shut up

Sunset snickered. "I know. I noticed that three pages were missing, so I asked Princess Twilight about it. Luckily, taking pages from one journal doesn't take them from the other—the Princess told me about the conversation you had, and then sent me back a full transcript without me even asking her to. You know how she is."

Twilight shook her head, knees knocking together. "I'm so sorry, Sunset. I didn't mean to go behind your back, or ruin your journal, or—"

"I'm not mad, Twi," said Sunset, waving her off. "It's just a journal, and it's not like there's anything in there that I wouldn't tell you about. I mean, I complain about boobs to you every day." Sunset tilted her head. "But why did you try to hide it? The Princess was right: you could have just asked me about ponying up. Is that what those dreams of yours were about?”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about that,” said Twilight, furrowing her brows. "I thought it made you upset."

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna talk about it, but you might.” Sunset sidled up to her girlfriend, close enough that Twilight could almost taste the cinnamon scent that wafted from her skin. “I wanna help. I know it must feel weird to have all this magical stuff going on and not know a thing about it. You’re a scientist. You wanna know how everything works. You’re smarter, more perceptive than any of us.”

She’s lying again.

Twilight scoffed. “Compared to you, I’m nothing.”

“C’mon, that’s not true. Everyone’s got talents; they don’t have to be better or worse than anyone else’s.” Sunset elbowed Twilight and asked, “So, you never answered: have you ponied up yet?”

“No, no...” Twilight had fallen into a stupor, torn between Sunset’s love and the fear festering in the back of her mind. She covered the bulge in her pocket with a hand, trying to ignore the heat. “It’s just been failure after failure.”

“I can help, however you’d like.” Sunset gave a halted laugh, cheeks pinkening. “I mean, maybe not the ‘sexual climax’ thing. Maybe.”

“But… why?” Twilight looked down. Suddenly, the device in her pocket felt heavier than lead. “I don’t deserve that. You shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I want to worry about you.” Sunset paused, then tapped her chin. “Well, I don’t want to worry, but... oh, you get what I mean.” Sunset grabbed Twilight’s hand and gave it a strong squeeze. “If I can help, then let me. I know what it feels like to be alone—you don’t need to go through that.”

She’s lying she hates you hates you

“I—” Twilight clenched her teeth, eyes starting to sting. She couldn’t bear Sunset’s perfect touch for a second longer. “I want your help, but—”

Sunset kissed Twilight.

For the sweetest of moments, Twilight’s brain went still. The dark thoughts faded. She closed her eyes and leaned into Sunset’s touch, let Sunset’s intoxicating scent surround her. She held Sunset’s hand tight, never ready to let go.

At least, not until her thigh felt like it would burst into flames.

Cursing, she tore the channeling device out of her pocket. Black smoke poured from the cracks in the case, the machine beeped like mad, and all twenty-five ticks were active, each one shining like stars. There had only been twelve filled when she left school—what had changed?

Sunset gaped. “Twilight,” she began, “what is that?”

Twilight held the machine by its strap. “Uh.”

“That’s that stupid magic-stealing device, isn’t it?” Sunset asked. She tightened her fists. “I thought we destroyed that thing after the Games! What’s it doing here? How did it get repaired?”

“Well, you know… I repaired it,” Twilight muttered. 

“You?” Sunset asked, eyes wide. “But how… why?! That machine nearly got everyone killed!”

“I know, I know. But that’s not going to happen again!” Twilight smiled. “I fixed all the glitches. It’s perfectly safe. I tested it and everything!”

“You what? How—” Sunset growled, then thrust out her palm. “Give it here. I’m gonna break it again.”

No no no

“No!” Twilight clutched it to her chest. Jolts of blue electricity filtered through her shirt and into her skin. “It’s mine! I need it!”

“How could you possibly need that thing? It almost destroyed the world once—almost destroyed every world,” said Sunset. She shook her head. "We can't take any chances.”

“You said you were here for me.” Twilight gripped the machine tighter. “You said you would listen to me. Was that just a lie?”

“C’mon, Twilight. Don’t pull that.”

“She was—I was right! You were lying!” Twilight spat. Her brain buzzed with energy. “You don’t love me at all, do you?”

Sunset took a step back, eyes wide. “I do love you! That’s why I can’t let you use that thing!” Sunset said. She tried to touch Twilight's shoulder, but Twilight jumped away. “Please, Twilight. You don’t know what you’re playing with. That’s concentrated magic. One wrong move and you could get seriously hurt.”

“Stop pretending you care,” Twilight said with a glower. “You hate me; that’s why I need this magic. I know how to use it now.”

“I don't hate you,” Sunset said quietly. “And you don't need that magic! You don't know how dangerous it can be.”

Twilight sneered. “At least I’m willing to experiment. At least I’m not a coward like you.”

Sunset spent a moment more just standing there, mouth hanging open—but then took a hard swallow and stepped forward. “Give it to me. I’m not asking again.”

“I need it.” Twilight opened it up and stared at the pulsing magic inside. It called to her like a beacon. “I need it to be stronger. For you.”

Sunset leaped forward and ripped the device from Twilight’s hands. Bolts of magic energy sparked from every inch of its surface. Sunset lifted it high into the air.

“I'm sorry,” Sunset said, voice shaking, “but I'm not gonna let you kill yourself!”

no no NO

“Give it back!” Twilight screeched.

She punched Sunset in the chest. Sunset screamed and flew backwards, crashing to the dirt. Electric sparks crisscrossed her body. Every breath came with a spasming cough.

Twilight scooped the machine off the ground and pressed it to her chest, ignoring the smoke rising from the fabric. Its magic coursed through her veins. Fiery blue spots flew through her vision, surrounded her eyes. Every single fear, every single anxiety she had disappeared. In that moment, all that existed was her. Her and the power.

She looked up and saw Sunset’s quivering, terrified face.

Twilight’s grip loosened, and her machine slipped from her hands. Bones aching, chest heaving, she collapsed.

The last thing she heard before passing out was Sunset yelling her name.
> Three
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight floated through the void. Neverending darkness surrounded her and seeped into her bones with an unearthly chill. Her limbs ached like they had been beaten with bats. Every breath came with a gasp.

She recognized this void. Midnight would soon appear, would set upon her like a vulture to rotting meat. Midnight would float down to feast on Twilight’s fears and worries. She would violate Twilight again and then throw her away like the trash she was.

No use in crying. She covered her eyes and prayed that today’s nightmare would end quickly.

No.

Twilight balled up her fists and took a deep, steadying breath. As she hung there in the darkness, memories came rushing back. The warmth of Sunset’s body at her side. That perfect little snort-laugh, and the way her fiery hair shone in the light.

The look of abject terror on her face when Twilight punched her.

There was no way Twilight could have done that. She loved Sunset, loved every single thing about her. Someone else had driven her to this: that strange voice in the back of her mind. The one that spoke over all her other thoughts, that clung to Twilight's mind like a parasite.

That voice—for the first time, Twilight recognized it.

“Midnight!” Twilight called into the void, voice cracking. She trembled and shuddered, but kept her fists tensed. “Get out here! Come and face me, you, you—you witch!”

“Strong words.”

Twilight yelped and spun around, only to find Midnight floating just a few inches away.

“I hate you,” Twilight spat.

“Really?” Midnight scoffed. “That’s why you believed everything I told you, is it? Why you tried to bring me back to life?”

“You tricked me into it!” Twilight said. “You’ve been torturing me with these nightmares for weeks now! You made me think that I was worthless, that Sunset would never love me, all so I would bring you back.”

Midnight shrugged. “It’s not like I was lying, right?”

Twilight blinked away tears. “I’m not going to let you get away with this anymore. This ends now.”

“Says who? You?” Midnight let out a wicked guffaw, then flared her wings, making Twilight flinch. “My dark magic is already inside of you. I just have to snap my fingers and I’ll be resurrected, ready to finally destroy that awful little world of yours.” She tapped her chin. “I think I’ll start by beating someone to death... how soft is Sunset’s skull, do you think?”

“I’m not letting you hurt her again!” Twilight held up her shaking fists.

“Do you really think you can stop me?” Midnight asked, tilting her head. “You, the girl who can’t run up a flight of stairs without running out of breath?”

“Maybe not.” Twilight gulped and tightened her stance. “But if you wanna get to her, you—you gotta go through me!”

Midnight clicked her tongue. “Nice cliché.”

Midnight flapped her wings and shot towards Twilight. Cursing, Twilight tried to throw a punch, but she had barely just wound up when Midnight kicked her in the stomach. Twilight doubled over with a wheeze. She reached up and tried to grab Midnight’s shoulders, but Midnight just cracked a fist against her forehead, knocking her away.

Pain shot through Twilight's limbs as she tumbled through the darkness. Spots flashed in her vision. From the corner of her eye she could see Midnight’s burning blue horn rushing towards her.

Every instinct screeched at Twilight to give up and beg for mercy. Maybe then Midnight would put her down quickly, painlessly.

Midnight grabbed a handful of Twilight’s hair and yanked, earning a squeal from her victim. “Well,” Midnight said, preparing a magical blast. “This has been fun. I wasn’t expecting you to put up such a fight! Hopefully Sunset will last a bit longer, though.”

Glaring, Twilight sputtered, “Screw you!”

A tortuous burn erupted in Twilight’s stomach once again as Midnight slugged her in the gut.

Midnight raised her glowing fist up high. “See you around.”

Twilight closed her eyes and waited for the fire.

“Release her, foul beast!”

A bright light shot past Twilight’s eyelids, and Midnight screamed. The she-demon released her hold on Twilight’s hair and was flung away. The smell of ozone and burning fabric smothered Twilight’s face, and she had to wrinkle her nose as she opened her eyes.

Midnight hovered a few yards away—or, at least, something that vaguely looked like Midnight. About half of her once-shapely body had been blown away, replaced by a shifting purple mass, dotted with stars. Smoke poured from Midnight’s torn clothing, and what remained of her face was contorted into a horrible grimace.

And across from her: a pony. Her starry mane flowed in an unseen breeze, and her horn shone like a spotlight. Wings spread wide, the pony descended from the darkness, narrowed eyes aimed straight at Midnight.

“Twilight Sparkle of Earth,” the pony called, very nearly giving Twilight a heart attack. Her voice sounded regal, but familiar. “Are you alright? Has it hurt you?”

Twilight still felt like she needed to puke, but she nodded. “I’m fine. Who are—”

Midnight roared. She rocketed toward the pony, arms outstretched.

The pony rolled away, just barely dodging Midnight’s attack. Midnight threw her wings out flat and tried to slow down, but the pony had already fired a beam of magic. The white laser blew through the rest of Midnight’s torso, melting it into that same purple energy. The rest of Midnight’s body dissolved with it.

The shifting blob spun around and shot toward Twilight. Twilight shrunk away.

A torrent of energy launched from the pony’s horn and ripped through the blob. As the light tore through it, piercing every inch, every molecule, the blob let out a brain-rattling screech.

But it soon faded away, and along with it went the dark void that surrounded them. With Midnight—or whatever was pretending to be Midnight—gone, a chamber made of polished marble appeared. Twilight fluttered gently to the floor, but once she touched down and gravity reclaimed her, her shaking legs gave out and she collapsed.

Lying on her back, clothes cold with sweat, Twilight found herself somewhere between needing to scream and needing to pass out. Her heart still hammered like a school bell, but she was back on solid ground, Midnight was gone, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, she smiled.

“I am glad to see you safe,” came the familiar voice again.

Twilight’s smile disappeared. Grunting, she lifted her head, only to find the pony—an alicorn, she thought Sunset described this sort of creature as—towering over her, wings still spread wide. She exuded an energy even more skin-chilling than Midnight. The alicorn, standing as tall as any normal horse, gazed down at Twilight with soft eyes, almost like she wasn’t a magic talking equine who had just killed a literal demon.

The alicorn thrust out a hoof, making Twilight flinch. “Twilight Sparkle of Earth,” she said. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

It took a moment, but soon enough Twilight gulped and returned the gesture, shaking the alicorn’s hoof. Twilight could see her reflection in the crystal horseshoe. Twilight opened her mouth and started to ask the pony for her name.

But before she could get out more than a word, Twilight looked into the alicorn’s light blue eyes and froze. The pony’s voice, her words—they spun around Twilight’s head, over and over until...

Twilight raised a brow. “Vice Principal Luna?”

“Princess Luna,” said the alicorn, bowing. “I assume Sunset Shimmer has told you of me?”

A memory of walking into Vice Principal Luna’s office, only to find her standing on her desk and singing a Sapphire Shores song popped into Twilight’s mind.

“Sure,” Twilight said, nodding.

“I must apologize,” Luna said, helping Twilight to her feet. Her ears drooped. “I would have come to banish the Tantabus sooner, but tapping into the dreams of a human is no easy feat. It took me weeks merely to sense your distress.”

“‘Tantabus?’” Twilight repeated. The three years she spent taking Roaman at Crystal Prep proved no help to her now. “What is that?”

“A dark creature, created by a foolish, foolish mare,” Luna said, looking away. “It invades your mind to feast on fears, insecurities. It infects you with horrid nightmares until it has devoured every last scrap of sanity you hold.” She frowned. “Months ago, your pony counterpart and I worked together to destroy it once and for all. Little did I know that the Tantabus did not die, but merely escaped into your universe and found another magical being to torment: you.”

“A magical being?” Twilight asked. “Me? I’m sorry, Princess, but I don’t have a single gram of magic power in me.”

“Princess Twilight has told me of your transformation into the demonic Midnight,” Luna said. “Even if your darker half was banished, the scars still remain, etched into your veins. You are no less magical than any of your human friends.”

“Then why couldn’t I pony up like the rest of them?” Twilight pursed her lips. “All the data seems to suggest that with a strong enough rush of emotions, I’d achieve a pony-like form. What’s stopping me? What variable am I not understanding?”

Luna tittered, catching Twilight’s attention. “Forgive me,” the alicorn said, stifling her laugh. “It merely amuses me how similar you are to the Twilight of my world. All you need is a difficult enough equation to forget all your worries...”

Twilight gave a sheepish grin and tried to respond—but a new thought took her off guard. “Wait,” she said. “You said the Tantabus creates nightmares so it can eat your fears. So all this awful anxiety I’ve had over the past few weeks... none of it was real! The Tantabus created all of it to mess with me!”

“No.” Luna shook her head. “The Tantabus causes nightmares, yes, but it only exploits what already exists.” Luna touched a wing to Twilight’s withering shoulders. “Here in your mind, young Twilight, all is revealed. Your entire life is laid out in front of me. These thoughts, these fears... there is a reason you did not find the new voice in your head strange. These thoughts have plagued you since childhood.”

Face going hot, Twilight shrugged the wing off. “I’d appreciate it if you left my memories alone.”

“I apologize,” Luna said. “But my point remains. What the Tantabus did to you was unacceptable, of course—but it was merely the shot that set off a long-brewing war inside your heart. You hold so much worry. So much doubt.”

“Yes, well,” Twilight began, only to realize she had no defense. She crossed her arms to keep them from shaking, held a breath to beat back the whimpers she felt jumping up her throat—but a single glance down at her awful, weak body made it all for naught. Even with Midnight dead, Twilight felt like she was being torn apart, a hundred different emotions tugging at every limb.

A single hiccup slipped from Twilight’s tongue, and she clasped a palm over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“There is no need,” Luna said, offering Twilight a smile. “I understand.”

Twilight stared at Luna’s sparkling jewelry, her heavenly mane, her muscled legs. “You understand?” Twilight snapped before she could stop herself. “How could you understand?”

“I was like you, once. I believed that I was less, that I was inferior, would always be inferior. And I hated myself for it.” Luna took a long breath. “It took me over a thousand years to discover that I was wrong—that I was seeing myself in ways no one else did. I was so busy hating myself that I never realized how many ponies truly loved me for who I was.”

“A princess? Royalty?” Twilight asked, scowling. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not any of that. I’m just a stupid nerd. You just destroyed a goddess-forsaken dream monster like it was nothing; I have to sit out of gym class just so I won’t have an asthma attack and pass out. Trying to make my own magic went all wrong, yeah, but without it—without it, I’m nothing. Without power, I’m just boring old Twilight Sparkle.”

“Without power?” Luna asked, incredulous. “I do not need to read your thoughts to know that you are a genius in training. You stop at nothing to discover the truth! The secrets of your universe must quake, knowing that you are well on your way to discovering them.”

“So I’ve won a few science fairs,” Twilight said. “Amazing.”

“You are not convinced?” Luna asked. A simper grew on her lips. “Alright: what of the predicament I rescued you from? Your fight with the Tantabus?”

“What of it? Midnight was about to kill me; I barely got a punch in.”

“Perhaps. But the fact is that you knew you would lose, and you fought anyway; you put your life on the line, all to protect the woman you love.” Luna smirked. “That does not sound like ‘nothing’ to me. Inside you lives a spirit that refuses to be crushed.”

As Twilight squirmed, trying to come up with some excuse, some way to wallow in her pity again, Luna stepped forward and pressed a hoof into her chest.

“Power is a strange, vague thing,” Luna said. “We all have power inside of us—sometimes, it is merely a matter of discovering what that power is.”

“But what about Sunset?” Twilight asked, voice small. “I’ve been so scared that I’m worth nothing to her, that she hates me. You keep saying that I’m stronger than I think, that I’m not worthless—but she’s so perfect. How can I stand up to her?”

“Sunset isn’t perfect. No one is perfect,” Luna said. “As much as you love her, you must know that even Sunset has flaws.”

“Maybe, but—” Twilight shook her head. “Mine are worse. I love Sunset; what if I’m holding her back? What if I’m really not good enough for her?”

Luna paused for a moment, gazing down at Twilight with furrowed brows. She shrugged. “Perhaps you aren’t.”

Twilight winced like she had been struck. “Huh?”

“Perhaps you aren’t ‘good enough’ for Sunset. And perhaps she isn’t good enough for you.” Luna leaned in close. “Perhaps thinking you could ever be unworthy of love is a fool’s errand.

“Love does not see worth. Love does not see inferiority.” Luna took a long breath. “Young Twilight, if there is one thing that I have learned in my life, it is this: true love—whether it be familial or romantic—is not bound by things like looks, or physical strength. It does not matter how much you can lift, or what instruments you can play. If Sunset truly loves you, she will love you for everything you are, weak or no. And if you truly love her, you will love her for everything she is, flaws and all.”

Luna met Twilight’s eyes. “Love is acceptance. Love is freedom.”

Her words burned in Twilight’s chest, hotter and hotter until Twilight had to look away. “You sound like a holiday card,” she said, hiding a smile.

“A holiday card who knows what she is talking about,” Luna corrected.

Twilight fiddled with her fingers. She thought about Sunset’s flaws; Sunset could be messy, moody, and even careless at times. And yet Twilight loved her, imperfections and all. Twilight could still remember the way Sunset held her, laughed with her, made her feel special.

Sunset loved Twilight, too.

Wiping her eyes, Twilight said, “Thank you, Princess. Maybe you’re right.”

“Take it from someone who has lived through seven marriages,” Luna whispered. “I am. Just promise me that you won’t let your anxieties overcome you.”

Twilight nodded and opened her mouth to make the promise—but stopped short. After a moment, she just said, “I’ll try.”

“I suppose that is the best I can ask for,” Luna said, summoning a tissue for Twilight.

The marble chamber that surrounded them melted away, replaced by pure light. Pony and human floated through a golden sea, warmth flooding their bones. The fears and worries that once crushed down on Twilight’s shoulders disappeared.

“So,” Twilight said, sniffling. “What now?”

“What else?” Luna asked. “You dream.”

Luna left Twilight with a small nuzzle, barely a brush on the cheek, before fading into the light—only to be replaced by a new figure. Out of the golden light approached a svelte woman, her dress glistening and her horn sharp.

Twilight took in a sharp breath, ready to see Midnight’s face once again.

“Twilight,” Daydream Shimmer said, drawing close. She smiled and ran a finger down the side Twilight’s stunned face. “It’s time for you to go back. You’ve kept me waiting.”

Twilight went rigid under her touch. “Oh, goddess, Sunset—er, Daydream. Or both?” Twilight scratched her head. “I mean, Midnight and I existed separately, so I would assume that means we’re separate entities, and I don’t see any reason why that wouldn’t translate to you. Of course, Midnight wasn’t really Midnight, but the Tantabus. So perhaps the paradigm of separation is merely—”

“It’s a dream, Twi. Just roll with it.”

“Oh.” Twilight gave a small giggle. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” said Daydream, leaning forward to touch her forehead to Twilight’s.

Twilight didn’t resist. She traced a palm down Daydream’s side, savoring the warmth of her skin, the silk softness of her dress. Daydream touched Twilight’s palm and murmured something into her ear—one that made Twilight’s throat lock up, twisted her tongue into knots.

Their lips met, and the light surrounding them doubled in intensity. Quaking breaths spilled from Twilight’s throat as Daydream slipped her fingers underneath Twilight’s shirt. Twilight’s mind buzzed like a battery, and her heart pumped in overdrive, so it took a few moments to wrest back control of her trembling fingers. But soon enough Twilight did the same, running her hands down Daydream’s back and over the straps of her dress. The golden glow soaked into their skin, wrapping around their limbs, shedding their clothes.

The two pressed their bare bodies together. Eternities passed by with nothing but the sound of Twilight’s and Daydream’s gasps to prove they had ever happened at all. It was there that they floated, naked and vulnerable and flawed. But not afraid. Never afraid.








Twilight awoke to the sound of crying.

Pricks of pain jolted through her brain as she edged open her eyes. Above her hung a blurry mass of red and orange. It took a few blinks for Sunset’s twisted grimace to come into focus—her eyes were clenched tight, and splotchy patches of red covered her face. Whispered words flew from her lips and into Twilight’s ears: “Oh, goddess,” she said, rocking back and forth. “Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay...”

Twilight took in a breath, only to wince at a sharp sting in her chest. She coughed, and Sunset’s eyes snapped open. Twilight managed a smile. “Hey,” she said.

“Holy—Twilight!” Sunset snatched Twilight up and crushed her with a hug. She planted quick kisses on every free inch of Twilight's face, drowning the half-conscious girl in a storm of skin and spittle. “Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m alright,” Twilight squeaked, bending in Sunset’s grasp. Her eyes flitted around, and she realized that she was in Sunset’s apartment. “Just—just give me a second? Maybe?”

Sunset laid Twilight down across the bed. As Sunset slipped her hands across Twilight’s back and under her arms, a sudden tickle coursed through Twilight’s skin. Twilight tried to sit up—only to slam her head back down on the pillow when she realized that she wasn’t wearing a shirt. Dim lamplight shone off her bare stomach. Her frilled white bra stuck out against her deep purple skin.

And in between her breasts sat a soggy cold bundle of paper towels. Twilight tried to pull it off, and Sunset grabbed her hand.

“Don’t,” Sunset said. Her voice still quaked. “It’s a cold compress for your burn.”

“My burn?” asked Twilight. That explained the stinging, at least. Memories of smoke spewing from her magic channeling device popped into her mind.

“It’s not too bad, but you got hit by some pretty nasty magic rebound,” Sunset said. She picked Twilight’s glasses up from the nightstand and handed them over. “You passed out right in the middle of the woods. I was gonna take you to the hospital, but what was I supposed to tell them happened? You pressed an iron to your chest? I had to just take you home and look everything up online. I got these towels, and I went out and bought a bunch of aspirin...”

“What did you do with the channeling device?” Twilight asked, frantic.

Sunset froze. Her brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Sunset, please. If that device falls into the wrong hands—”

“I smashed it,” Sunset said. She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “It turned off when you fell unconscious. I took it back here with us, and as soon as I was sure you were safe, I took it into the alley outside and smashed it into a million pieces. No one’s ever gonna use that thing again.”

Twilight let out a deep breath. Good.

Sunset shook her head. “I can’t believe you. That stupid machine almost killed you for the second time, and you’re worried about what happened to it.”

Frowning, Twilight said, “You know that’s not—”

“Do you know how scared I was, Twi? How I felt carrying your body halfway across town, praying that you would wake up?” Sunset jumped out of her chair and paced across the apartment. “I wrote to Princess Twilight, but she hasn’t answered. None of the girls are picking up their phones, and your mom keeps calling, and I was all alone, all by myself, freaking out, and all because of that awful, stupid magic thing!”

A knife had lodged itself firmly in Twilight's spine. She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Sunset.”

“This is just...” Sunset dragged an arm across her eyes, then affixed Twilight’s with a bleary-eyed gaze. “Why? Why did you rebuild that thing?”

Any explanation Twilight could have mustered stayed stuck in her throat. She looked away, cursing the fear that still lingered in her mind. She wanted nothing more than to admit everything to Sunset, to reveal every ounce of weakness in her. But what would Sunset think? What would she do, knowing her girlfriend was pathetic, would always be pathetic? How could Sunset ever love her?

Luna's voice echoed in her ears.

Twilight dug her nails into her palm. “Because I wanted to be stronger.”

“What?" Sunset said. "What does that mean?”

And so, sitting together in Sunset’s apartment, Twilight explained everything. She told Sunset about her insecurities, her fears. She told her about the dreams, and about the Tantabus haunting her—Sunset’s eyes went wide when Twilight mentioned Luna. Twilight told Sunset how useless she had felt, how she thought herself nothing but a scrawny weakling. She told Sunset how she had only wanted to make herself worthy of Sunset’s love, but had only ended up risking both their lives in the process.

“Oh, jeez,” Sunset said, running a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry. Ugh, I’m so stupid! I swear, I had no idea—”

“Because I never told you.” Twilight grabbed Sunset’s hand. “I never wanted anyone to think even worse of me than they already did—than I thought they did. So I just bottled it all up all my life, all my anxieties and fears, and the Tantabus took advantage.” She drew in a long breath. “I should be the one apologizing. I hurt you, and I completely understand if you never wanna see me again.”

Sunset scoffed. “C’mon, Twi, I’m not blaming you for any of this. It’s not your fault you got attacked by a weird dream monster,” she said. “And I dunno if it’ll help at all, but... I think you’re pretty great.”

Twilight looked away. “Really, Sunset, you don’t have to do this.”

“Hey, you’re always saying how great I am. Lemme have this,” Sunset said. She squeezed Twilight’s hand tight. “Yeah, it’s true that you can get kinda antsy sometimes, and yeah, you’re not a world-class athlete. But you’re smart, and you’re sensitive, and you make the cutest friggin’ faces when you talk about science, or music you like.” Sunset touched her forehead to Twilight’s. “I love you for being you, not some magical wizard. You’re the only Twilight in the world, and even if you’re not some perfect divine goddess, you’re pretty friggin’ awesome.”

Twilight managed a small, shaking grin. “Only me in the world? What about Princess Twilight?”

“She’s not in our world, you goof. And besides: she’s got nothing on you in the looks department.”

Twilight let out some mix of a laugh and a sob. As the tears rolled down her face, Sunset lay down next to her and held her tight. Twilight basked in Sunset’s warmth, in her sweet cinnamon scent. 

“I’m here for you,” said Sunset. “You don’t have to bottle things up anymore.”

There, resting in Sunset’s arms, that Twilight realized: Princess Luna was right. For the first time, Twilight didn’t feel ashamed to be in Sunset’s arms. For the first time, she didn’t feel that anxiety weighing down on her stomach.

She did feel a bit embarrassed, however, lying next to Sunset with no shirt on. She blushed remembering what she had done with Daydream—or dreamt about doing, at least. Maybe I should go put some clothes on...

Sunset kissed her, and every thought disappeared. Twilight didn’t resist. Every small twitch of Sunset’s tongue sent goosebumps popping along Twilight’s arms. In the back of her mind, she could hear the awful thoughts bubbling up, trying to take over—but she ignored them. Right now, her anxiety could go screw.

Twilight was so caught up in the kiss that she barely noticed as a new sort of electric energy passed through her veins—this one calming, pleasurable. The exact opposite of Midnight’s magic was wrapping around her, filling the room with a piercing purple light.

Eyes still closed, Twilight felt herself rising off the bed. Her thoughts raced, her heart hammered—but before she could make a sound, it was over, and she fell back down. She inched open her eyes and found Sunset staring at her, jaw hanging.

“What just happened?” Twilight asked, trying to catch her breath. “Did I destroy the world again?”

Sunset leapt up and pulled out her phone. She snapped a quick picture of Twilight—the electronic shutter sound seemed extra loud to her—then turned the phone around to show the product.

Two purple nubs had grown from her scalp. Her hair had broken free of its bun, and now lay sprawled across the bed, at least five times its previous length. Purple, glimmering sparkles coated her skin.

Twilight pushed up her glasses and squinted to make sure she was seeing the photo correctly. She reached a hand up to touch one of her new ears—then reached back to stroke her longer hair.

“Congrats,” Sunset said through a giggle. “You just ponied up!”

Twilight stopped breathing.

Sunset whooped and pulled Twilight to her feet. “My intense emotions hypothesis is proven once more! Oh man, this is amazing!” She scratched her chin. “And kinda ironic, maybe? I can’t tell. Aw, whatever—this is awesome!” She laughed and danced around a bit, circling Twilight’s petrified form.

“Sunset?” Twilight choked out after a moment.

Sunset beamed. “Yes, Twilight?”

“Could you… could you…?”

“Inhaler?”

Twilight nodded.
> Original WriteOff Version
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Midnight Sparkle burned another civilization to the ground, she couldn’t help but frown. Watching their citizens flee in terror, only to be ripped apart by her magic, she wondered: why didn’t they listen to her? Why didn’t they respect her? She was their creator, their goddess—there wasn’t a single part of her glorious form that wasn’t worthy of worship. Why did they refuse to praise her?

Whatever. It was their loss; she could build another city in less time than it took to blink.

She waited until the last man had collapsed into a pile of dust before snapping her fingers and erasing the universe. Surrounded by the ever-present darkness of the void, she flew on.

Her mind swam with infinity. It had been years since she had conquered Earth, Equestria, and all the other wretched worlds that existed beyond the portal. She had slaughtered so many in her quest for power—not that she regretted a single death. The power that coursed through her veins was enough to crush any pity she had left.

Power. She clenched her fists and watched the magic spark around her knuckles. To think, she had once been content to exist as a mere human, barely able to run up a flight of stairs without losing the wind in her lungs. How she had managed to make it to nigh-adulthood without ending her life was a mystery.

But none of that mattered anymore. With a smile, Midnight flicked a finger, and a new universe was birthed before her. In seconds she watched it expand, flicker with life. Maybe these creatures would finally prove themselves worthy.

“Twilight?”

Midnight spun around, only to shade her eyes from the piercing golden light that had appeared behind her. She hadn’t seen a light this bright in years—not since the day she had ascended. But now this light was growing larger and larger, all the while calling her name with the sweetest of voices.

“What do you want?” Midnight asked. “Who are you?”

“Twilight…!”














Twilight opened her eyes. As she blinked the sleep away, the first thing she noticed was a pair of amazing blue eyes staring right back at her.

Sunset Shimmer leaned forward and gave Twilight a quick peck on the lips. “Hey, sexy.”

Something exploded in Twilight’s cheeks. She recoiled, tumbling backwards and slamming into the couch cushions. “Sunset, you—!” Twilight yipped, body going rigid. “I mean, uhm, you just, I…”

“Awake yet?” Sunset asked. “If not, there’s more where that came from.”

Across the room, Rainbow scowled. “Hey! No making out during band practice. You guys wanna suck faces, you can get a room.”

“Yeah, listen to Rainbow,” said Applejack, packing up her bass and rolling her eyes. “Everyone knows that she makes all the rules around here.”

Rainbow turned up her nose. “Exactly—wait, are you being sarcastic?”

“Oh, I dunno. What do you think?”

Twilight adjusted her crooked glasses and tried to catch her breath. As her brain kicked back into gear, she took a few mental notes: she was sitting in the CHS band room. She was at band practice—well, not her band. Her friends’ band. She was at band practice, was sitting on a couch, and an absolutely beautiful girl was offering to kiss her and why hadn’t she said yes and what was wrong with her?

And why do I keep having that dream?

“If you two want the couch,” said Fluttershy, who Twilight hadn’t even noticed was sitting next to her, “I can move. I don’t mind.”

“It’s fine,” Sunset said, laughing as she plopping down on Twilight’s other side. She wrapped an arm around Twilight’s and smirked. “I mean, unless you really wanna go crazy, Twi.”

Say yes say yes say yes

“No,” Twilight said, looking down. “I’m alright.”

Sunset shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Cursing herself, Twilight tuned in to the argument taking place before her. Rainbow Dash towered over Applejack, yelping, “I can’t believe you’re bailing on us. This is so uncool!”

“You’ll survive,” Applejack said. She locked up her case. “Granny Smith is busy and Big Mac’s got football practice, so I gotta take Apple Bloom to the dentist’s office. She got a cavity the size of Principal Celestia’s rear from all those candy apples Pinkie made last week, and I ain’t spending another dinner listening to her whine.”

Rainbow groaned and tugged on her hair. “Can’t it wait? Just give her some booze or something. That’s what my grandpa always used to do with my mom!”

“Doesn’t your mom also say she can talk to squirrels?”

“Yeah, so? It’s true! I’ve seen it!”

Fluttershy winced at every shout, hiding behind her hair. On Twilight’s other side, Sunset sighed and rested her head against Twilight’s. “So, sleepyhead, are we really that boring?” Sunset asked. “Or did you just pull another all-nighter?”

“You’re not boring,” Twilight said, smiling. “I’m just not a fan of this ‘pop punk’ music you all play. It’s not exactly my cup of tea, if you will.”

“Yeah,” Sunset said. “Not enough weird keyboards and screaming cats for you, huh?”

“The screaming cats were in one song. One! And they’re not weird, they’re avant-garde. You know, according to Scientific Orchestra Monthly—”

Sunset kissed Twilight on the cheek. At once, Twilight’s words turned to meaningless blurbles. Sunset snort-laughed and elbowed her girlfriend in the side. “Have I ever told you how much I love it when you spaz out like that?”

Twilight frowned. “I’m not spazzing.”

“Yeah? What do you call it, then?”

“Well, I—it’s not—” Twilight gritted her teeth to stem the flow of nonsense. Why can’t you speak like a normal human being? her thoughts screamed as Sunset’s grin grew wider. What’s wrong with you?

“I’m just kidding,” Sunset said, leaning into Twilight. “You know that, right?”

Twilight forced herself to nod.

“This sucks,” Rainbow said, sitting down on the armrest next to Sunset. “First Pinkie and Rarity cancel on us, now Applejack’s gotta leave early; worst practice ever.”

Still across the room, Applejack glared. “You could at least wait until I’m out of the room before talking about me like I’m not here.”

“You might as well be gone already.” Rainbow folded her arms. “Seriously. I was, like, two minutes away from getting that guitar solo down perfect!”

Fluttershy raised a finger. “This song doesn’t have a guitar solo.”

“No wonder you guys were tripping me up,” Rainbow said.

“Sunset? Rainbow?” Applejack called, her bass strapped around her torso and a bundle of cables in her arms. “Y’all mind helping me bring the amps and whatnot back to my truck? It’ll go a lot quicker if I get some help.”

Sunset rose to her feet without question. Rainbow mumbled a few curses before walking over.

On most days, Twilight would just be content to sit back and wait for Sunset to finish, so they could leave together. But today, slumped into that couch, she felt a fire spark in her chest. “Hey,” she said without thinking. “What about me?”

Sunset, Applejack, and Rainbow froze and looked at her. “What about you?” Rainbow asked.

Twilight flinched—but forced herself to mutter, “I mean, why is it you never ask me to help pack everything away? I can help.”

Applejack waved her off. “We’re fine, Twi. Really. We don’t got that much stuff to haul out, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said with a snicker. “And besides, I think this stuff is a bit too heavy for those noodle arms of yours.”

“Lay off her,” Sunset said, slapping Rainbow’s shoulder. Her words were tinged with laughter.

“What are you talking about?” Twilight asked, very much knowing what Rainbow was talking about. She held her arms close to her chest.

“I don’t mean any offense, Twi,” said Applejack, “but you and Fluttershy ain’t exactly the strongest girls in the world.” Fluttershy nodded.

Twilight just scoffed. “Please. I’m stronger than Fluttershy.”

Silence wrapped around the room.

“Oh, goodness,” Twilight said, covering her mouth. She turned to Fluttershy, who stared with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean that.”

“No, no.” Fluttershy shook her head. “You’re probably right.”

“You wanna help?” Rainbow asked, hands on her hips. “Why don’t you carry out an amp or something? Shouldn’t be any problem for a bodybuilder like you.”

Twilight felt a breath catch in her throat, but still nodded. “Fine.” She walked over to the equipment on the other side of the room and found the amplifier Rainbow was gesturing to. She gulped; it was a massive black crate, at least three times the size of her torso. She had been ready to just roll it out—only to realize now that it had no wheels.

“You don’t have to do this,” Sunset said, touching Twilight’s arm. “Honestly. We’ve got it covered.”

Words of agreement flitted through Twilight’s mind. One glance down at her noodle arms silenced them.

Twilight grabbed the amp’s handle and pulled. To her credit, she managed to lift it off the ground for at least two seconds—only to drop it again with a gasp and a thud. Already her arms burned. She tried again, clenching her eyes and straining, but it just wouldn’t budge. Every muscle she had screamed for relief, but as long as she felt Sunset watching her…

“C’mon, Twi, stop!” Sunset said, pushing Twilight away. “You’re gonna sprain something.”

Chest heaving, Twilight stumbled backwards and leaned against a piano. With shaking hands she reached into her shirt pocket and snatched out her inhaler.

“Wow. When’s your next powerlifting competition?” Rainbow asked. Applejack smacked her in the back of the head. “Ow! Ugh, none of you guys can take a joke.”

“We’ll get all this stuff,” Sunset said, lifting the amp a few feet off the ground and walking it over to the door. “Don’t worry, Twi. Just wait here, okay?”

Twilight rubbed her aching arm. “Yeah.”

The stronger girls headed out, leaving Twilight and Fluttershy alone.





Twilight took a deep breath and tried to avert her eyes from the magazine Sunset was reading. Half-naked women sauntered across the pages, straddling motorcycles and sucking on lollipops. They leered at Twilight from their thrumming machines. Twilight could resist their call—she had calculus homework to focus on, after all—but she couldn’t help but notice the way Sunset looked at them, scanning every inch of every page.

They’re just models. Twilight tapped an equation into her calculator. You’re supposed to stare at them. That’s why they’re so much hotter than you…

With a grimace, Twilight shook the thoughts away. As the calculator graphed out her problem, she gazed around Sunset’s apartment. Dirty clothes covered the floor, and whenever Twilight moved she had to pay special attention not to slip on a pair of underwear. A well-worn guitar rested on Sunset’s bed. On her nightstand stood a neat pile of textbooks—never opened, of course. Sunset never studied, and yet somehow always managed to earn perfect grades.

Strong, smart, creative… It wasn’t uncommon for Twilight to note that were they characters in a video game, Sunset would be entirely overpowered. Twilight was lucky to have her.

…But was Sunset lucky to have Twilight?

After all, they couldn’t have been more dissimilar. Twilight was small, nervous, weak. But Sunset commanded respect in everything she did; there wasn’t a single person at CHS who didn’t know her name. She held a confidence Twilight could only dream of having—well, having again. She had been that confident once, months ago. But it had only lasted for about five minutes.

At least, in reality.

“Twi?” Sunset started, flicking a glance at her. “Are you okay?”

Twilight jumped. “Ah, yes! Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been staring at me for about a minute now.”

“Oh.” Twilight wrung her hands. “It’s nothing, really.”

Sunset leaned forward and touched Twilight’s wrestling fingers. “You don’t have to be so nervous around me, y’know. I can help—I mean, if you need it.”

Damn your tics. Twilight tore her hands apart. She looked down at the table for a moment and tried to gather both her words and the confidence to spit them out. “Do you ever have dreams about our magical forms? The ones we became at the Friendship Games, I mean.”

“You mean Midnight and Daydream?” Sunset asked with a grin. “I still can’t believe Pinkie gave us those stupid names. It’s like we’re superheroes or something.” Her smile weakened a bit. “But, uh, no, I don’t. At least, not anymore. Why, have you?”

“Once or twice,” Twilight said, thinking back to the five times she had had the dream that week. “’Not anymore?’”

“I mean that I don’t really like thinking about that stuff too much,” Sunset said. “Having magic, defeating villains… any of it.”

“Why not?” Twilight asked in a high voice. “We were so amazing!”

“I guess it kinda scares me,” said Sunset. She shook her head. “Overloading on magic drove me insane once, and a bunch of people almost died. My friends almost died. Saving the world is cool, yeah, and just studying it is one thing... but I hate having that sort of power come out of me. I don’t deserve it, and I don’t want it.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Twilight pursed her lips. “We experienced something no human has ever experienced in recorded history. For a few moments, we were the strongest creatures on Earth. How can you not find that amazing?”

“Because I don’t, okay?” Sunset said. “Can we just drop this? Seriously, I don’t like talking about it.”

Twilight had a hundred more comebacks, a thousand more questions—but threw them away. What are you doing? She couldn’t bear to look into Sunset’s wistful eyes. That power drove you insane, too. Why would you defend something so awful?

Biting her tongue, Twilight tried to focus on her homework. Sunset went back to her magazine, not saying a word. An awkward sort of quiet filled Twilight’s ears and weighed her down like sludge. She leaned further into her paper and pressed her pencil down harder, but suddenly she just couldn’t focus on the math.

She closed her notebook. “I think maybe I should get going—”

“I’m sorry,” Sunset said with a sigh. “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I sorta take magic for granted, being from Equestria and all, but you must have so many questions. You’re probably more scared than me.”

Not particularly, Twilight thought, nodding.

“I don’t want us to leave angry. That sucks.” Sunset smiled. “Why don’t you spend the night here? We can order pizza or something, and I’m pretty sure I paid my cable bill this month. Pretty sure.”

“Spend the night…?” Twilight repeated, jaw going slack. Her gaze flicked over to the only bed in the apartment.

Sunset blinked a few times, then shook her head, cheeks going ever-so-slightly pinker. “Not like that. I mean, we can totally sleep in the same bed—but I’m not exactly up for anything more. Sorry.”

“It’s fine!” Twilight said, heart pounding. “It’s fine, really.” She paused for a moment, eyes falling back onto the motorcycle magazine. “But… why not? I mean, not that I want to do it if you don’t want to.”

“We are talking about sex, right?” Sunset said, making Twilight go stiff. She chuckled. “No real reason. I guess I just don’t feel comfortable enough in this body yet. I’m still working out the kinks, y’know? No pun intended.” She snort-laughed, but waved a hand. “I dunno. It’s stupid.”

Twilight could listen to that laugh of hers for days. “I understand. Let me call home, see what I can do.” Twilight pulled out her phone, stood up, and walked away. As she flipped through her phonebook, however, she noticed Sunset flip through her magazine again, opening up to a page with even barer women. 















Midnight Sparkle cursed, and a pillar of burning black magic flew from her palm, straight towards the brilliant light. The black and gold collided with a muted bang—but Midnight barely had time to smirk before the light prevailed, swallowing her magic whole. Midnight felt its heat on her skin, felt the shining magic burning her alive. She waved her hand to create a shield, but the light pierced through it.

“What is this?” she shouted. “Who is this? Show yourself!”

The light drew nearer and nearer, close enough that Midnight was sure she would be set ablaze. But just as Midnight backed away, the golden magic paused and grew softer.

The light shrunk and stretched, shifting from a golden blob to a more humanoid shape. The formless orb gave way to shining wings and fiery hair. To a beautiful gown, to a horn of pure pulsing energy. This new creature looked so much like her.

So similar, and yet when the two women locked gazes, energy stronger than Midnight had ever imagined ran along her bones. Looking this woman in the eye was like eating a bolt of lightning.

Worst of all: as far as Midnight knew, this woman should have been dead.

Midnight shouted the same questions—“What are you doing here? Why have you come back?”—but got no answer. Daydream Shimmer drew close once again, her face unmoving. Every muscle in Midnight’s body tensed as Daydream stopped only a few inches away, only to reach up to run a hand through Midnight’s wild mane and trace a finger along her cheek.

Midnight shook. What was happening to her? She was the goddess of this realm—no one was stronger. Nothing scared her.

“Except for me,” Daydream said.

That got Midnight’s teeth gnashing. Spitting hexes, Midnight reached forward and wrapped her hands around Daydream’s neck.

Daydream didn’t react, even as Midnight choked her, clawed out her eyes, and pounded a fist into the side of her skull. 















Twilight snapped up and very nearly fell out of bed. She kept one hand gripping the blanket and ran the other up and down her body, grimacing at the sweat coating her skin. She whipped her eyes around the room. She was still in Sunset’s apartment, under Sunset’s sheets, wearing Sunset’s pajamas—and sure enough, Sunset was still sleeping next to her, completely safe.

Trembling, Twilight lay back down and stared at Sunset’s sleeping face. Drool poured from her lips onto the pillow, and her hair was frizzed out in every direction. Passed out, Sunset was at her ugliest; and yet she still looked like a queen.

With stinging eyes, Twilight reached a hand toward her girlfriend. All Twilight wanted was to hold her, to be held, to make these awful dreams go away—but she held herself back. Sunset wouldn’t want to be touched like that. Not by Twilight.

Nausea roared in her stomach. Twilight crawled out of bed and stumbled across the dark apartment, headed for the single light in the distance and doing her best not to fall to the floor and break something and make Sunset upset again. Thoughts burning, mind screeching, she slipped into the bathroom and collapsed against the sink.

Twilight couldn’t look her reflection in the eye. She just stared at her own scrawny body, barely visible under the baggy pajamas. Sunset was twice the woman Twilight was, in size and heart. How Twilight ever thought she could impress Sunset—could ever even make her happy—was insane. Sunset deserved more. Sunset deserved anyone else.

No. Twilight raised a handful of sink water to her face and splashed it across her eyes. This is just the fatigue speaking. You’re exhausted, and those dreams aren’t helping.

And what of those dreams? They terrified Twilight; just the thought of hurting Sunset made her gag. But everything else… the power. The confidence. Dream Twilight, or Midnight, or whoever it was had no fear. Anything she wanted to do she did. Nothing ever stood in her way—no stupid anxiety, no stupid asthma. She never second-guessed herself. Never flinched at every errant sound in an empty bathroom.

What was the difference between Midnight and her? Wings? A skimpy gown?

Magic.

Twilight gripped the sink. She had sworn off studying magic after the Games, but…

“No!” she shout-whispered. “No, no. Stupid.”

She cast one final look at her awful body before turning out the light and hobbling back to bed.

Sitting down, she took a moment to adjust her too-big shirt—but froze when she looked at Sunset’s nightstand. Resting on the shelf, underneath an alarm clock and a coffee-stained shirt, was a journal. The journal. Just gazing at it, Twilight was sure she could feel a sort of electricity darting along her skin, giving her goosebumps.

Sunset was still sleeping. Twilight was alone.

She grabbed the journal and walked over to slip it into her bag.







Testing, testing. Princess Twilight of Equestria, do you read me? This is Twilight Sparkle of Earth. Please respond at your earliest convenience.





Hello, human Twilight! It’s great to hear from you again—even if it is just past midnight here in Equestria. One of these days we really should work out the temporal discrepancies between my world and yours. You can’t imagine how many messages I’ve missed from Sunset because she sent them while I was asleep.

What can I help you with?

P.S.: Normally I’d tell you to just call me Twilight, but considering the circumstances, using my title is probably wise. I would also accept “Twilight Prime.”

P.P.S.: That was a joke. I don’t know how well humor crosses dimensions.





It crosses just fine, thanks. Although I would argue that I’m the real Twilight Prime—I do have opposable thumbs, after all.

In any case, I was wondering if you could possibly answer some questions I have about magic. Namely, is there a safe way to use magic in order to induce physiological and psychological changes? Say, a growth in muscle mass, or a change in personality?





No. Not permanently, at least. I know dozens of transfiguration spells, but they all have a time limit. You can grow a third set of hooves for one hour, let’s say, but as soon as the hour passes they’ll disappear. As for psychological changes… they exist, yes, but none of them are exactly safe. Messing with the brain is playing with fire. Just one mistake could cripple you for life.

That being said, everything I just described has only been proven to be true for ponies. Most unicorn scholars don’t even know humans like you exist. For all I know, magic meant to grow a third set of hooves here could turn you into a tomato, if it had any effect at all.

Why do you ask?





Just curious.

On a possibly related note: you’ve watched each of my friends take on a semi-magical form, some hybrid of pony and human. They all call it “ponying up.” Upon activation, each of them gains enhanced reflexes and a heightened sensory array. How might one go about triggering this transformation?





You’d need to have some connection to the Elements of Harmony, first of all. Aside from that… honestly, I’m not quite sure. Sunset was studying it at one point, wasn’t she? Couldn’t you just ask her?





Can’t. It’s a surprise.





I see. Well, as far as I’ve heard, your anthropomorphic forms are powered by emotion. To transform, you would need to find something that gives you a true emotional and adrenal high. Winning a competition, for instance. Making art, falling in love, the smell of old books…





Sexual climax?





Possibly? If that’s the highlight of your day, go for it. Just maybe not in public.





Thank you, Princess Twilight. I think I have an idea of how this all works now.





Sure. Just be careful, alright? Magic is strange. Volatile. Not something you want to mess with without taking some precautions.



Twilight had already closed the journal.





Twilight grabbed her spare fire extinguisher, tore off the safety pin, and launched a hefty dose of foam at her workbench. A sharp hiss cut through the garage as the chemical flames drowned under Twilight’s assault. Scorch marks covered the wooden table, and the stench of burning rubber filled the air. Twilight kept shooting until the canister was empty, then waited. When a few seconds had passed without anything else exploding, she sighed and flumped into her chair.

She counted her blessings that her parents weren’t home. If they found out she had nearly burned down the house—again—she’d have her garage/laboratory access cut off for a month.

Sometimes being a scientist sucked.

Nevertheless, she took a puff from her inhaler and set to work wiping up the foam. There was no point in sitting around when she still had work to do.

Well, ‘work.’ She was mostly just mixing together random chemicals and watching how they reacted. Not the safest pastime in the world, but better than nothing. After all, she had already spent the last five hours working through her backlog of possible experiments. Now that she was out of ideas, there was nothing to do but throw stuff at the wall and hope nothing caught fire.

Once the workbench was clear, she grabbed two random bottles off her wall and began unloading them into separate beakers. Maybe this time she would finally get that ‘emotional high’ she needed. After all, Twilight loved nothing more in this world than science—well, science and Sunset. But Sunset wasn’t around, so science it was.

Twilight’s eyes narrowed unconsciously, and she had to stop for a moment just to take a deep breath. Sunset had declined Twilight’s invitation to come help experiment, saying she had already promised to go running with Rainbow. Rainbow. Sunset had the chance to spend time with Twilight, her girlfriend, and had chosen instead to hang out with that obnoxious meathead.

Twilight knew that wasn’t ‘friendly,’ or whatever, but it was true. Everyone said Rainbow was obnoxious. Even Sunset.

So why are they together?

When Twilight mixed the chemicals together, they fizzed for a few seconds, then went flat. Twilight had wasted twenty dollars’ worth of supplies, all for a jar of urine-yellow liquid. She cursed and poured it out into the sink.

What was she doing wrong? What could bring her that high she needed?

Twilight turned around and reached into a box of random equipment—only to wince as she cut her finger on a piece of scrap metal. Grumbling, she pulled the metal out and threw it on the workbench.

It was a rusted clamshell case, like one of those makeup mirrors Rarity carried around. But more importantly, Twilight realized with a start: it was an early prototype for her magic channeling device. The one that had given birth to Midnight Sparkle. The one that had almost destroyed the universe.

Twilight almost caught herself smiling.

She had been looking for a new project, right? Something difficult that she could really focus on? It had taken her months to build the first channeling device—but she still had loads of spare parts, and a second try would only take a few days, a week at most. And this time she could work out all the defects that had plagued the first one! She could become the first human to truly control magic. No need for an emotional high when she had technology.

This is stupid, she thought. Idiotic. You’re going to get yourself killed.

“This is science.” Twilight took a moment to bandage up her finger and drew in a few long breaths. “Just another experiment. Recreating the conditions of my last transformation. Sunset’s been studying this too, hasn’t she? She’ll be so excited to see my results!”

She reached for a screwdriver and set to work.





“Alright,” Cheerilee said, her voice laced with venom. She pointed at a picture of a bearded man in a long robe, which was taped to the blackboard. “For the third time: who is credited with founding the city of Canterlot?”

Pinkie Pie raised her hand.

Cheerilee glared. “No, Miss Pie, it is not Canter McLot.”

Pinkie put her hand down.

“Anyone? Anyone at all?” Cheerilee asked. She stared at her students, all of whom just stared back—well, most. Rainbow was sleeping, and Rarity was painting her nails. “We’ve been studying him for a week now!” Still no answer. Cheerilee dragged a palm down her face and collapsed into her chair. “Fine. Miss Twilight, help us out, please?”

In the back of the room, Twilight stared at her lap. “Hm?” She glanced up and found the entire class watching her. She flinched away, very nearly tipping her chair over. “Ah, uhm… Starswirl the Bearded?”

Cheerilee nodded. “Good to know someone is paying attention. Thanks again, Twilight.”

“No problem,” Twilight said before returning her gaze to her lap.

Under the desk, Twilight fiddled with her new channeling device. It had taken her a bit longer than expected to work out all the bugs, and technically she wasn’t sure it worked yet, but today she was taking it out for its first test run. Part of her felt bad for testing it out in school, but another part assured her that this was the only way to make sure it functioned correctly.

And besides, in the two weeks it had taken to build, Sunset had gone running with Rainbow two more times, and Twilight had suffered through five more dreams. They all ended with Midnight assaulting Daydream, each attempt more violent than the last. Twilight prayed that fixing up her device and finally getting another taste of the magic she so craved would stop the dreams.

As Cheerilee launched into another lesson about Canterlotan history, Twilight focused her gaze on Rarity, who sat just a few seats away. Crossing her fingers and toes, Twilight turned on her device.

Unlike the old one, this device didn’t suddenly snap open and start ripping magic from anyone it could find. Rather, Twilight was able to edge it open, revealing a soft purple light. A familiar purple fog snaked out of the clamshell case. The smoke slithered along the floor, through legs and over feet, until it reached Rarity. It latched onto her ankle and seemed to disappear, as if it were melding with her skin.

At once, Twilight could see the meter on the outside of the case light up. A single tick flashed, indicating that channeling was in progress. There were still twenty-four other ticks to be filled—not that she had to capture all the energy in one day. Baby steps.

Twilight watched Rarity with hawk-like eyes, making sure to take notes as the smoke crawled along Rarity’s feet. She recorded every twitch, every sigh, every hair flourish—there were quite a few of those. Once ten minutes had passed and four ticks were filled, Twilight snapped the case shut, destroying the purple tendril. She watched Rarity for a minute afterward, and only moved on when she was sure Rarity wasn’t going to pass out.

As the period passed, Twilight did the same thing to Pinkie and Rainbow. She swore when Pinkie reached down to scratch her leg, and nearly had a heart attack when Rainbow yawned—at least, until she remembered that Rainbow had been snoozing anyway.

Once class ended, Twilight stuffed her device away. It was already warm to the touch, and if one looked closely, they could see it glowing through her pants pocket.

Outside the room, Twilight stopped her friends. “Hey, girls?” she asked, unable to meet their eyes. “Are you… are you all feeling alright? Like, are you tired, or anything?”

Rainbow stretched and grinned. “Nah. That was the best nap I’ve had in months.”

“I’m good!” Pinkie chirped.

Rarity smiled. “I’m feeling fine. A bit peckish maybe, but not tired. Why? Are you feeling alright, darling?”

Twilight rubbed the back of her neck. “Uh, I think maybe I’m getting a cold.”

“Oh, you poor thing!” Rarity said, throwing a hand to her heart. “This winter weather is just dreadful, isn’t it? Come. I’m sure Granny Smith would be more than willing to make you a warm cup of soup.” She took Twilight’s hand and walked on, dragging the scrawny girl along like a suitcase.

Rushing to follow after, Twilight kept her head down.





“I swear, if Mr. Doodle makes us dissect another stupid frog, I’m suing.” Sunset tossed her phone high into the air and caught it on the way down. “Like, he knows that it makes me uncomfortable. I’ve forged notes from my ‘mom.’ I’m two seconds away from just telling him I’m a freakin’ magical horse, y’know?”

Walking next to her, Twilight gripped her backpack’s straps. “Yeah.”

“Heh, maybe not. He’d probably just try to dissect me.”

“Yeah.”

The two stopped at a crosswalk, and Sunset shot Twilight a sideways glance. “You alright? I know you have a cold or whatever, but you’re being pretty quiet.”

The air was below freezing, but Twilight felt like she was in a sauna. Her entire body tingled with energy. She could feel the channeling device hot against her leg. A few more minutes, and she was sure it would burn a hole in her jeans. Every few moments a jolt of… something would spark from it, shooting into her leg and through her limbs.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Twilight said, gulping. “Everything’s fine. Fine.”

“You sure?” Sunset frowned. “Are you still having those dreams?”

Twilight furrowed her brows. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about that.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’m willing to talk about anything.” Sunset sidled up to her girlfriend, close enough that Twilight could smell the cinnamon that always seemed to waft from her soft skin. “I’m here for you. No matter what.”

“But… why?” Twilight looked down. Suddenly, the device in her pocket felt heavier than lead. “I don’t deserve that. You shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

“I don’t have to anything. I want to worry about you.” Sunset paused, then tapped her chin. “Well, I don’t want to worry, per say. But I do want to help you. Y’know, if, like… oh, you get what I mean.” Sunset grabbed Twilight’s hand and gave it a strong squeeze. “I know this sounds super mushy and all, but I love you, Twi. Honestly. If I can help, then let me. I know what it feels like to be alone—you don’t need to go through that.”

“I—” Twilight clenched her teeth, eyes starting to burn. She couldn’t bear Sunset’s perfect touch for a second longer. “I love you too, but—”

Sunset kissed Twilight.

For the sweetest of moments, Twilight’s brain went still. The raging thoughts faded. She closed her eyes and leaned into Sunset’s touch, let Sunset’s intoxicating scent surround her. She held Sunset’s hand tight, never ready to let go.

At least, not until her thigh felt like it would burst into flames.

Cursing, she tore the channeling device out of her pocket. Black smoke poured from the cracks in the case, the machine beeped like mad, and all twenty-five ticks were active, each one shining like stars. There had only been twelve filled when she left school—what had gone wrong?

Sunset spent a second gaping—then scowled. “Twilight,” she began, “what is that?”

Twilight held the machine by its strap. “Uh.”

“That’s that stupid magic stealing device, isn’t it?” Sunset asked. She clenched her fists. “I thought we destroyed that thing after the Games! What’s it doing here? How did it get repaired?”

“Well, you know… I repaired it,” Twilight muttered. "I swear, I can explain."

“You?” Sunset asked, eyes wide. “But how… why?! That machine nearly got everyone killed!”

“I know, I know. But that’s not going to happen again!” Twilight smiled. “I fixed all the glitches. It’s perfectly safe.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Sunset thrust out her palm. “Give it here. I’m gonna break it again.”

“What? No!” Twilight clutched it to her chest. Jolts of blue electricity filtered through her shirt and into her skin. “It’s mine! I need it!”

“That thing almost destroyed the world once—almost destroyed every world. I’m not taking any chances,” Sunset said.

“You said you were here for me,” Twilight said, gripping the machine tighter. “You said you would listen to me. Was that just a lie?”

Sunset rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Twilight. Don’t pull that.”

“So you were lying!” Twilight spat. Her brain buzzed with energy. “You don’t love me at all, do you?”

“I do love you! That’s why I can’t let you use that thing!” Sunset said. “You don’t know what you’re playing with. That’s concentrated magic. One wrong move and you could get seriously hurt.”

“Stop pretending you care,” Twilight said with a glower. “You hate me; that’s why I need this magic. I know how to use it now.”

“You don’t know anything about magic.”

Twilight sneered. “At least I’m willing to experiment. At least I’m not a coward like you.”

Sunset recoiled, but just as quickly took a step forward, forcing Twilight back. “Give it to me. I’m not asking again.”

“No… I need it.” Twilight opened it up and stared at the pulsing magic inside. It called to her like a beacon. “I need it to be stronger. For you.”

Sunset leaped forward and ripped the device from Twilight’s hands. Bolts of magic energy sparked from every inch of its surface. Sunset lifted it high into the air.

“Give it back!” Twilight screeched.

She punched Sunset in the chest. Sunset screamed and flew backwards, crashing to the concrete. Electric sparks crisscrossed her body. Every breath came with a spasming cough.

Twilight scooped the machine off the ground and pressed it to her chest, ignoring the smoke rising from the fabric. Its magic coursed through her veins. Purple spots flew through her vision. Every single fear, every single anxiety she had disappeared. In that moment, all that existed was her. Her and the power.

She looked up and saw Sunset’s quivering, terrified face.

Twilight’s grip loosened, and her machine fell to the ground. Bones aching, chest heaving, she fell to the ground.

The last thing she heard before passing out was Sunset crying her name. 
















Midnight had ripped Daydream apart a hundred times now, but still Daydream stared, still Daydream lived. She just floated there, mocking Midnight with every beautiful breath.

It was just after burning out Daydream’s eyes for the twelfth time that Midnight began to sob. “Why?” she asked, digging her nails into Daydream’s shoulders. “Why can’t I kill you? I’ve watched whole universes live and die! I am existence! What are you?”

Daydream smiled. “I am love.”

Midnight ripped out her throat.

Daydream touched Midnight’s face. “I am acceptance.”

Midnight tore off her head.

Daydream pulled Midnight close. “I am freedom.”

Their lips met, and the void surrounding them melted away. Tears spilled from Midnight’s clenched eyes, down her cheeks and into the darkness—a darkness that was disappeared, replaced by the most brilliant light Midnight had ever seen. The light wrapped around the two, soaking into their skin and shedding their armor. 

The two goddesses pressed their bare bodies together. Eternities passed by with nothing but the sound of Midnight’s gasps to prove they had ever happened at all. It was there that they existed, naked and vulnerable and flawed. But not afraid. Never afraid. 

















Twilight awoke to the sound of a familiar voice.

“Twilight!” someone yelled, their voice muffled. “Open up! Please!”

Groaning, Twilight rose from her bed and scanned around her bedroom. A thirty-minute nap had somehow become a three-hour slumber. Half-completed homework delivered from school covered her desk, along with a stack of Get Well cards. Pinkie had made sure to load hers with as much glitter as humanly possible.

“Could you maybe speed it up?”

Twilight followed the noise to its source—only to give a shrill yelp. “Sunset!” She hurried over to the window and threw it open.

Sunset tumbled inside, hitting the ground with a thunderous crash. Panting, she lifted herself off the ground and dusted off her jacket. “Thanks.”

“How did you get up here?” Twilight asked, locking the window again.

“I climbed.”

“Sunset, I’m on the third floor.”

“I noticed.” Sunset sat down on the bed. “Never actually been here before. So this is your room, huh?” She glanced around the room, eyes darting between the star charts on the ceiling and the various pictures of scientists that covered the walls. “Yep. Just about what I expected.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk. At least I’m not using a pair of underwear as a lampshade.”

Sunset opened her mouth to argue—but after a moment of silence, just settled on, “Point taken.”

Twilight sat down next to Sunset. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? You’ve been out of school for two days!” Sunset said. “I haven’t seen you since I brought you to the hospital. I told them that you had fallen down some stairs, but…”

Memories rushed through Twilight’s mind. Most everything from that day was still blurry, but she remembered the key events. “Oh my goddess,” Twilight said, clasping her hands. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What about you?” Sunset looked her girlfriend up and down. “You got hit by some pretty serious magic rebound. How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I think.” Twilight touched her chest. “I had a pretty ugly burn, but it’s healing up, and the doctors said the scar should be relatively small.”

Sunset winced. “A scar? Jeez, Twi, that’s… I’m sorry.”

“It’s what I get for being such an idiot.” Twilight’s eyes fell. “How could I have thought stealing magic again was a good idea? I could have killed myself—or worse, you.”

“Magic is one hell of a drug,” Sunset said, offering a weak smile. “And it sounded like maybe I had something to do with it, too.”

“No, Sunset—”

“I dunno what I did. I dunno if I did anything. But”—Sunset laid a hand on Twilight’s leg—“I never, ever meant to make you feel like you weren’t good enough, or that you somehow needed to be ‘stronger’ for me. That’s crazy, and awful, and would make me the worst girlfriend in the world.”

“But I’m worthless,” Twilight said, voice cracking. “I’m a nervous, scrawny weakling. You deserve so much better.”

“C’mon.” Sunset lifted Twilight’s shaking chin. “Yeah, you can get a bit antsy. And yeah, you’re not a world-class athlete. But worthless? Twilight, do you seriously think I care about any of that?”

Twilight sniffled. “I…”

“I love you because you’re smart. I love you because you’re sensitive. I love you because you’re funny, because you’re brave, because you make the absolute cutest faces in the world when I kiss you.” Sunset touched her forehead to Twilight’s. “I love you for being you. You’re the only Twilight in the world, and I’m so lucky to have you.”

A quiet moment passed before Twilight managed a small, shaking grin. “Only me in the world? What about Princess Twilight?”

“She’s not in our world, you goof. And besides: she’s got nothing on you in the looks department.”

Twilight let out some mix of a laugh and a sob. Tears rolling down her face, she leaned forward and kissed Sunset. Sunset didn’t resist, wrapping both her arms around Twilight and pulling her closer. Twilight basked in Sunset’s warmth, in her sweet cinnamon scent. Every small twitch of Sunset’s tongue sent goosebumps popping along Twilight’s arms.

And it was there, resting in Sunset’s strong arms, that a new sort of electric energy passed through her veins—this one calming, pleasurable. The exact opposite of Midnight’s magic was wrapping around her, filling the room with a piercing purple light.

Eyes still closed, Twilight felt herself rising off the bed. Her thoughts raced, her heart hammered—but before she could make a sound, it was over. She inched open her eyes and found Sunset staring at her, jaw hanging.

“What just happened?” Twilight asked, trying to catch her breath. “Did I destroy the world again?”

Sunset leapt up and pulled out her phone. She snapped a quick picture of Twilight—the electronic shutter sound seemed extra loud to her—then turned the phone around to show the product.

Two purple nubs had grown from her scalp. Her hair had broken free of its bun, and now lay sprawled across the bed, at least five times its previous length. Purple, glimmering sparkles coated her skin.

Twilight adjusted her glasses and squinted to make sure she was seeing the photo correctly. She reached a hand up to touch one of her new ears—then reached back to stroke her longer hair.

“Congrats,” Sunset said through a giggle. “You just ponied up!”

Twilight stopped breathing.

Sunset whooped and pulled Twilight to her feet. “My intense emotions hypothesis is proven once more! Oh man, this is amazing!” She scratched her chin. “And kinda ironic, maybe? I can’t tell. Aw, whatever—this is awesome!” She laughed and danced around a bit, circling Twilight’s petrified form.

“Sunset?” Twilight choked out after a moment.

Sunset beamed. “Yes, Twilight?”

“Could you… could you…”

“Inhaler?”

Twilight nodded. “Uh-huh.”