> A Band of Misfit Losers Hunt the Undead
>  by Rune Soldier Dan
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Finding Applejack (romance, drama)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two years off the farm, and Applejack remained a ‘wake at 4:30 A.M.’ kind of girl. Didn’t matter if her and the gang partied til ten or staked a vampire at midnight, soon as that clock came around her eyes opened and her body moved. Years of farm work had trained her well.

But though the instinct remained, it had small purpose these days. Canterlot College had no cows to be milked or hay to be hauled over for their breakfast. The only chickens in her dorm were dead ones in the cafeteria, with all flavor cooked and frozen out. And the only thing growing was the tomato plant Applejack managed in the corner of their living room, plus the black mold on the hallway ceilings. Neither needed much help.

Still, Applejack got up. Turned on the little desk lamp above her dated laptop and cleared out the weekend’s homework. A straight-A business major – no test the professors threw at her were half as hard as balancing books after the apple blight. All that, at age fourteen. Back when Rarity whined about Blueblood, and Sunset was bitch queen of their school.

Applejack recognized the old, lingering jealousy, and let it go. They’d all grown up. Sunset most of all.

She looked to her roommate. Sunset Shimmer was an ungraceful sleeper, with open, snoring mouth and sprawled body that shuffled every few minutes. Applejack slept like the dead, so it caused no trouble.

Homework done. Nothing else to do until the rest of the world woke up, and this was the worst time of the day. Applejack was an extrovert – she loved people, needed that special noise in her life. Didn’t like to be alone with her thoughts.

Puttering in their cramped room looking for something quiet to do, her eyes found the closet mirror. Bra and boxers for her sleepwear. She eyed the thick biceps, the six-pack abs on her wide chest. Twenty hours of hard labor a week, most of her life, fueled by an appetite to match.

Like a dang gorilla.

She was too tall. Too heavy. Crow’s feet and chapped lips she really should hide with products, but why bother? Like putting makeup on a wrestler, and not one of those hot lady wrestlers.

“Hubba, hubba.”

The words seized her bitter thoughts, pushing them down deep where they belong. Applejack turned to find Sunset gazing up from the bed. The desk lamp glinted on her green eyes as they played over Applejack’s body.

“Sorry, sugar. Did I wake you?”

“In the best possible way.”

Somehow, Sunset didn’t sound like she just woke up. She moved to a seated position, letting the light play across her grinning teeth. “Sorry if I’m being creepy, but damn, girl. I ever tell you I’m into muscles?”

Applejack let out a low chuckle. “Not in words, no.”

Sunset flinched back a little, blushing and speaking quickly. “I mean, if I am being creepy you need to let me know. Just, anytime. I’ll stop right away.”

“Naw, you’re fine and better than fine.” Applejack reached down and gave her hair a quick tussle, earning a giggle that sounded oddly disappointed. “I’m gonna hit the shower, then head off to class. Later.”

Applejack strode from the room, not quickly enough to miss the low whistle Sunset sent in her wake.









“Principles of Online Marketing” sounded like a stupid class for running a farm, and twenty years ago it would have been. But Sweet Apple Acres was one of the last small farms standing, and did so with an archipelago of specialty products from cider to wooden furniture. All of this needed vendors and brand loyalty, which took contacts and advertising. Adapt or die, even if it wasn’t her best class.

...It’d go a lot smoother if Applejack didn’t sit next to Adagio. Or more accurately, if Adagio didn’t sit next to her.

Applejack was damn proud of the ex-siren, usually. To chase stardom with her now-mundane singing was a gamble. To chase it without turning into a trendy little pop-star seemed impossible, yet Adagio stood determined to resurrect cultured music from the abyss. She was writing her own songs, practicing the violin and piano, and studying business to learn to make money now that mind control was off the table. Most days she even paid attention in class, which could not be said of other students.

Today was not ‘most days.’

Applejack didn’t look over when slow movements of Adagio’s chair brought their hips in contact. It was a common enough occurrence that she didn’t think twice. And it was only a little distracting that Adagio chewed her gum in a way that sounded… oral.

But today brought a fresh opening from the warming weather, leading Applejack to jean shorts and Adagio to sandals. A bare foot settled across her calf and began stroking, sending a deep flush up Applejack’s neck.

“Quit it,” she snapped in a whisper.

“I see you grinning,” Adagio purred. She did stop, although of course had to add, “See? Look at me, all respecting your boundaries.”

Applejack tried to physically pull down her smile. “Is that why our hips are touching?”

“I’ll stop if you tell me to.”

Applejack hunched lower over her work. Adagio kept at it as well, smirking triumphantly until the bell rang.









A slow evening, with nowhere to go. Applejack loved these kinds of days. She lounged on the sofa with controller in hand, just as she had for the past hour. She’d gotten to the point where she could almost win at Smash Pillars, and the taste of victory had her finally putting in effort to learn the game.

While Applejack sat upright, Sunset laid along the length of the couch, resting her back against Applejack’s shoulder as she read from a small booklet.

“Something for class?” Applejack asked.

She felt the shrug against her side. “No, it’s kind of a primer on assault rifles. According to Mom, handguns are fine unless something swarms us, and then I’ll really wish I knew how to use one.”

“Cool.”

Sunset shuffled in place. “This is nice, though. Just a quiet evening, with only us two. Doing things with the Rainbooms is super-cool of course, and our roommates are great. But sometimes you just want peace and quiet, you know? Just you and someone you’re really comfortable with, just sort of being independent together. And, you know, seeing where the evening goes, no real plans, just kind of whatever you and I want to do together, alone–”

“I’m here, too,” Wallflower called from her seat at a folding chair, where she controlled the character currently throwing Applejack’s from the stage.

Sunset held the booklet over her face and fell silent, suddenly warm against Applejack’s back.









The next evening was quiet too, but with Adagio around it could never last. Lounging with her legs over Applejack’s lap, she at least had the decency to wait until Applejack’s character lost its last life before interrupting.

“We’re alone. Wanna make out?”

“Not really,” Wallflower said, startling Applejack into a leap, which sent Adagio tumbling to the floor.









4:30 A.M. Applejack stayed in bed, staring upwards.

This had been her life since Christmastime. She rejected both of their advances then, but left the door open for the future. ‘Too busy,’ she had said.

A dang lie.

She was terrified. Of losing whoever she didn’t choose, and losing whoever she did. Of blowing it. Of not being good enough, or pretty enough to make it work. 

She always… kind of figured they’d both get over their little crushes on her inside a week. Yet spring now turned slowly to summer, and they were still at it. Still all-but signaling her with rockets.

Sunset’s voice came from the other bed. “You alright over there?”

The words brought an instinctive smile. Applejack rolled to face her, though the darkened room hid Sunset from sight. “Kinda. How’d you know I was up?”

“You snore.”

Can’t argue with that. “Sorry.”

Shadowed motion came from Sunset’s bed. Perhaps they were looking to each others’ eyes without realizing.

“Wanna talk?”

What felt like a hard knot bulged in Applejack’s throat. “Y-yeah.” 

She took a deep breath. “Just… sorry for… you know. Everything.”

“With what?” Sunset sounded worried. Of course. From her angle, Applejack could be talking about anything. 

“Love, and stuff.” Like picking apples, talking came easier the more you did it. A little. “Sunset, let me be honest for once. With you and Daj, I… I thought you’d both move on real quick-like. I thought if we dated y’all would dump me like a rooster in winter. I’m not pretty like you two.”

Another motion as Sunset raised her head from the pillow. “No, you’re pretty like Applejack.”

Applejack gave a breathless chuckle. “And lordy, I actually believe it when you’re around. You’re so good, ‘n tough ‘n smart… a-and you want me. And so does Daj, and that’s the rub, ain’t it? If I choose one, I hurt the other.”

Her lips curled back from her teeth in a grimace, tears welling as the words uncorked something deep. Good ol’ Sunset – Applejack would sooner cut off her arm than hurt her. Same for Adagio – she had so little going for her these days, and faced it down with her own bitchy courage. To take either of their feelings and then shit on it by turning to the other… no. Heck, no.

“AJ,” Sunset began, then cut herself off. “Wait, give me a second. This is stupid.”

More motion in the darkness, this time as Sunset got up. She flicked on her desk lamp, giving a dim, bronze light to the room. 

No makeup. Odd strands of red and yellow hair frayed out against fashion and gravity. Applejack swallowed, watching as Sunset pulled over her squeaky computer chair and sat between their beds.

She was beautiful. Inside and out.

Applejack rose and swung her heavy legs over the bed, facing Sunset. Keeping her head down to hide the tears.

Sunset spoke first. “You should be happy. You deserve to be. You’re beautiful, and if you need someone else to tell it to you then I’d love to be that person. And if you want that person to be Adagio instead, that is absolutely, one-hundred percent okay. If I can’t be your girlfriend, I still want to be your friend. Although of the two I do really want to be your girlfriend.”

Of course. Sunset was great like that.

Too good for Applejack.

Still looking down, Applejack mumbled, “But what about Adagio?”

“We could invite her.”

A jolt hit Applejack’s thoughts, scattering them and setting her to blinking.

Sunset chuckled, and Applejack finally raised her head. The girl smiled gently to her. “You, uh, look like you could use some good ideas.”

Applejack sniffed and knuckled at her eyes. It was enough to make her laugh, anyway. “That’s crazy talk.”

“For you,” Sunset said. “Adagio is… Adagio. And I was raised in Equestria – we mate for life, but never really got into the whole ‘monogamy without exception or bust’ kind of thing.”

Applejack blinked again, looking to Sunset’s calm smile and taking an extra few seconds to realize the girl wasn’t joking.

“I thought you were mostly straight?”

A lame question. Applejack’s brain was still trying to catch up.

Sunset shrugged, a faint redness coming to her cheeks. “Mostly, but it’s Adagio, you know? I could experiment, see what works.”

Applejack couldn’t hold the gaze anymore. She looked down once more, fidgeting with her sheets. “Dang it, girl, I ain’t really a friends-with-benefits kinda person. I need something that can be permanent.”

“So do I.” Sunset’s words came with gentle strength. “But AJ, no one ever knows if things will be permanent when they start out. That’s putting the cart before the horse. The only way to learn is to try, so… let’s try. And if it doesn’t work, we see what comes next. As friends.”

There it was. Nearly the last doubt dispelled. AJ didn’t much doubt Adagio would be in for this.

Both of them. It sounded like a fantasy; a dumb, creepy dream. Now within reach.

Wetness hit the floor.

Sunset only stood, and walked across to sit by her side.

Applejack pawed at her eyes. More tears came. “Sorry,” she said with gravel in her throat. “Jeez, what do you even see in this?”

Gorilla girl. Redneck. Crybaby.

Sunset dabbed a tissue at her face, hugging her tightly with the other arm. “If I tried to count all the reasons you’re great, we’d be here all day."

She gave a wet sniff of her own. “I think… waiting for you to choose between us wasn’t the right move. I thought I was giving you space, but here you were thinking we’d just move on. I’m gonna ask you out soon, so start thinking about what you want to do.”

A second hand came around, wrapping Applejack in an embrace. Sunset pushed her nose forward and nuzzled her like a horse.

Applejack reached around Sunset’s back, pressing inwards, and they remained there until dawn broke through the window.









Applejack called them “attacks.” Never knew what they really were that sent her spiraling down into a crying wreck. She bounced back – she always did. Just a part of life. Love, sadness, joy…

And Super Smash Pillars.

Adagio’s character flew from the stage. She settled back into Applejack’s side, smiling with vague bemusement. “Kind of weird for a first date.”

Applejack shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Not at all! It’s romantic in its own way.” She snuggled closer, throwing one leg over Applejack’s knee. “Spending time with each other in the comfort of home? Mexican take-out and gas-station beer? No dressing up, no spending big money, just us three and each other.”

A pause. “And Wallflower.”

Wallflower’s voice came from the recliner. “Don’t mind me.”

Adagio leered. “Hey, you wanna get in on–”

“Hard pass.”

“Lay off,” Sunset mock-scolded. She sat on the knee Adagio didn’t occupy and reached back with a mischievous smile to tickle beneath Applejack’s chin. “Look at AJ. She can barely handle two.”

Applejack tried to focus – she was the last one standing against Wallflower, and had never come this close to winning. But she giggled and squirmed under the tickle – and Adagio’s foot stroking her leg – and Adagio’s hand on her hip – and Sunset’s face, looking to her with loving cruelty – that there was no chance, after all.

She fought valiantly. Tried not to listen as they spoke.

“Look at those cheeks! Red like apples.”

“Come on, Adagio. She has to focus.”

“Her birthday’s in three weeks, you know.”

“I know. We need to start… planning things out.”

Applejack’s last life ended at half-health. Wallflower burped. “You’ve definitely improved, good job. Especially, you know. Considering.”

“Set up a rematch,” Applejack called, her flamed cheeks pulling the lips to a grin. “I got a good feeling about this next one. Reckon I’ll finally beat you, so long as a few other missies keep their hands where they belong.”



She did not, and neither did they. But that was alright.
> Cool Girls Don't Look at Explosions (monster-of-the-week, Ember)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Even its critics would call Canterlot a very modern metropolis. Perhaps spurred by its position on multiple ley lines, the city seemed locked in a never-ending renaissance of arts and science. Tech businesses flourished, museums and galleries won international acclaim, and local politicians were never more certain that monsters do not exist. Anything that damaged its reputation as glittering, progressive, and monster-free was always discreetly kicked from the limelight, by Mayor Ma’am’s stiletto heels if necessary.

Sunset was in one such area that had been kicked – far from the museums and even the Everfree, an urban sprawl of abandoned construction and closed factories. Such had its own art in the form of daredevils, graffiti, and basketball, flourishing in odd mirror of the public side of Canterlot.

And its own monsters.

Almost midnight. Exactly the time and neighborhood Celestia warned her against, concealed pistol or no. 

Sunset coolly checked on the hand-me-down motorcycle she bought off Torch, tuning out the mocking laughter to her side. She didn’t notice the cyan girl storming forwards until she spoke.

The voice, normally cheerful and irreverent, came out as a snap. “Tell me he’s lying.”

“He’s a demon, of course he lies,” Sunset muttered, fiddling with her bike. “Unless speed demons are different, I guess. You tell me.”

She glanced over to the subject and source of the laughter – a skull-faced, cow-horned creature with spiked leathers and a motorcycle that put Sunset’s to shame. Enough chrome decorated the outside to build a second bike, literal flames were set to erupt from seven exhaust pipes, and it had an engine designed to be as obnoxiously loud as possible.

Ember growled, leaning above Sunset’s crouch. “Tell me you didn’t bet your soul.”

Sunset shrugged. “I bet my soul.”

“God-dammit!” Ember yelled, drawing a fresh laugh from their rival. She learned down, hissing angrily. “This is exactly what speed demons do. Find a young twerp who thinks they’re invincible and goad their ego until they bite. How many times have you even ridden a motorcycle?”

“Six, not counting when you taught me.”

“Right? Six! You can barely keep balance and you’re racing a literal speed demon!”

“It’s only to the end of this road.” Sunset rose from the work. She winced at some grease stains on her hands and wiped them together. “You kill a speed demon, he just comes back. His end of the bet is he’s banished from Earth forever if I cross the line first. Seems like the only way to keep him down for good.”

“Your mom is gonna kill me,” Ember groaned, then froze. “Crap, what am I gonna tell my dad? ‘Hi, pops! Your girlfriend’s daughter sold her soul on my watch, hope it doesn’t ruin your chances!”

“I didn’t sell my soul, I bet it.”

Ember threw up her arms. “A rookie against a speed demon, you basically gave it away! I can’t believe it, this is why no one likes amateur hunters. You kill one suburban-ass vampire and think you’re G.I. Joe.”

“Thirty seconds, Sunshit!” The demon roared with glee, now sitting on his motorcycle and gunning the engine.

“‘Sunshit.’ Real original.” Sunset muttered it lowly. “Hey Ember, are there any of those 24-hour diners around here? I could destroy a hamburger right about now, I haven’t eaten since four.”

She climbed onto the bike. “Also, move.”

Ember took a few steps back, though nagged the whole way. “I can’t protect you! This is bad news for both of us!”

Sunset donned her helmet – another hand-me-down, this one from Ember. It still reeked of the gel she used to spike her hair. The demon crowed to the sycophant edge-lords who cheered it, while a handful of other watchers looked worriedly to Sunset.

Local bikers had rigged the traffic stop for their races. Its yellow light became the thirty second warning, then…

Green.

Flames bellowed, engines roared, and the speed demon gave a last, rancorous laugh before an explosion detonated his bike. Others stared, but Sunset simply puttered forward along the impromptu racetrack. Nice and slow, only wobbling a little, moving easily to the finish line.









“I slipped a phosphorus pellet down one of those stupid flame-exhausts while he was posturing.”

As it happened, there was indeed a late-night diner nearby. Terrible coffee and a mediocre burger, but Sunset shoveled it down all the same.

Ember poked grumpily at her bacon and eggs. “You could have told me.”

“Nope,” Sunset said around a full mouth. She swallowed and went on. “I tell you, you calm down, he knows something’s up. Couldn’t let him get suspicious the ‘rookie’ was pulling one over.”

A pause. Then, “Although it is a little annoying to still be called ‘amateur hunter’ after two years in the business. I put up with it from Harshwhinny because she’s mom’s friend and it’s not worth the fight. It’d be real cool if I didn’t have to take it from you.”

“Fine,” Ember grumbled. She flicked back an errant bang of hair, folded a whole pancake into her mouth, and gulped it down in three bites. “I can’t say you’re wrong, but you still made me shit myself back there. Maybe give me the same courtesy and share your plans next time.”

Sunset waved her empty mug to the waitress, smiling as coffee briefly triumphed over sleep. “Yeah, okay. Deal. And, uh, speaking of plans...”

She gave a light chuckle, suddenly far more nervous than with the demon. “Has Torch said anything about marrying my mom?”

“Not the ‘M’ word specifically, no.” 

Ember shrugged, tightening her mouth. She and Sunset got along fine as friends, and the same as hunters despite a few kinks in the line. ‘Sisters’ was a trickier question.

The slim biker topped off her coffee along with Sunset’s. “He’s into her, definitely, but who gets married these days?”

“My mom is super domestic,” Sunset confided. “I think she’d be over the moon to get married for real.”

“Has Celestia been...” Ember fidgeted, letting a droll smile eclipse her nerves. “You know, thinking she’s being discreet, but quietly sounding you out on them having a baby?”

Sunset arched an eyebrow. “Torch has, I take it?”

“Yep.” Ember rolled her eyes, but the smile grew. “Out of the blue, Dad started talking about how loved and appreciated I am and how no amount of additional family members will change that. Real subtle.”

Sunset flushed a little, scratching her cheek and grinning. “Well, nothing like that from Mom, but uh… past experience when I magically turned into a baby for a while showed she’s big on the idea.”

“Hey, if it makes them happy, I’m in. I ain’t gonna be a brat about it and neither should you.”

“No complaints,” Sunset said. “What about your mom?”

“Hm? Oh.” Ember gave a dismissive wave. “I don’t have a mom. Dad plucked me from a trash heap when I was a baby. I don’t know who my ‘real’ parents are and I couldn’t care less.”

Sunset flinched. “Oof, I’m sorry.”

Ember shrugged. “Don’t be – I’m way better off with Dad than those assholes. And I made up my mind at the start of this to support him however it goes.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Sunset smiled into her coffee. “Sometimes family is about choice, you know? Moms...”

“And dads...” Ember added.

“And sist–”

They both said it, and both stopped at the same beat. Each returned quickly to their meal, not ready for that conversation. Not yet.
> The Extremely Shy Aquatic Shapeshifters Club (Fluttershy, slice-of-life)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

They met on a sailboat in the Pacific, launched from a dock an hour’s drive from Canterlot. Fluttershy sat at the head of the ship’s cramped cabin table and nervously tapped down her wooden gavel.

Instantly, the three others in the room looked at her, causing her to squeak and hide behind her hair. She stuttered out a few tries before managing to start things off.

“This… um, this meeting of extremely shy aquatic shapeshifters is now called to order.”

The others applauded quietly, giving her the confidence to go on. “Um, as always, we start this meeting with a motion for a unanimous ‘thank you’ to my dad for taking us out on his boat and providing the juice boxes.”

Silence. Fluttershy mumbled, “Um… someone needs to second it.”

“Seconded.” A thin, gray girl raised her hand, though quickly drew it back. “I’m sorry if someone else was going to say it… I’ll be quiet.”

“The motion passes,” Fluttershy said. “Thanks, Dad.”

Though she said it softly, Mister Shy had developed uncanny hearing over the course of his daughter’s life and called down from above deck. “My pleasure, sweetie!”

A tiny ‘squee’ escaped Fluttershy’s throat, and she went on with marginally more confidence. “As you can see, we have a new prospective member with us today. I want her to feel comfortable and accepted, so I think we should all tell our stories before asking hers.”

She took a little sip from her juice box, noting the nervous expressions on her peers. “I’ll go first: My name’s Fluttershy, and I’m a weremanatee. It’s like a werewolf but with a manatee. Right now I’m going to college, and I kind of want to work for Everfree Park when I get done.”

“I… I’ll go next!” the cream-colored girl to her right volunteered bravely. “My name is Coco Pommel, and I’m a wereshark. It’s, um, like a werewolf but with a shark. I was bitten accidentally by a wereshark in the aquarium, who was actually just a really lazy guy who didn’t want to work or hunt. I’m a student at Canterlot High right now, but my dream is to follow Senpai Rarity’s footsteps and become a fashion designer!”

The thin gray girl swallowed hard as attention fell to her. Her eyes darted around in a growing panic, seeking escape.

“Remember your training,” Fluttershy coached gently. “Just picture us as cute little stuffed animals and pretend you’re talking to them.”

It helped. The girl giggled like a kitten and began to speak, though she did so with her eyes closed. “My name is Marble Pie, and I’m a siren. Um, an ‘Earth siren.’ I didn’t like to sing, so I never could hypnotize sailors and lure them overboard. My sisters stranded me on shore to die, but Mom and Dad – um, Igneous and Cloudy Quartz – found me and kept me in a kiddie pool in their garage until I was old enough to change shapes (I’m, um, kind of a mermaid in water). I met my human sisters there and I really love them. I make candles and sell them online.”

“Very good, you’ve definitely improved!” Fluttershy clapped her hands together twice (quietly) before turning to the last girl at the table. “Now it’s your turn. Take your time, and only share what you want to.”

The newcomer had gray skin and a disordered mop of short blonde hair. She beamed at the others, the odd positioning of her golden eyes seeming to meet all their gazes at once. Or would have, if the trio weren’t so averse to eye contact.

Nonetheless, she spoke with bubbly enthusiasm hence unheard in their quiet group. “Hi, I’m Ditzy Doo! I’m a changeling, so I can like take any shape I want although my normal form is gross and buggy so I stay with this. Waaaaaaay back in 2016 I came here from Equestria with my queen to help her take over the Earth. Drones like me have no free will when she’s around, so even though I was making friends and having fun she kidnapped Sunset and made me take her place. The queen lost and got dragged back to Equestria, severing her control over me. So I abandoned ship, laid low, and I really love my job as a daycare aide and living as a human. It got kind of lonely having to hide my secret all the time, so I’m really happy Fluttershy found out and invited me to your club. What do you guys do on these trips?”

“We drink juice boxes and eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Fluttershy explained, drawing bobbing nods from the others. “If it’s warm we sun ourselves wearing swimsuits we would never, ever wear in a public area. Then we go for a swim, just enjoying the chance to be together in the beautiful ocean.”

She giggled and took another sip from her juice box. “And if we run into any dolphins, we find out if any of them committed genocide against porpoises or raped their females and teach them a lesson in manners.”

An unexpected wave jostled the cabin, opening a closet filled with switchblade knives and metal bats wrapped in barbed wire. Coco discreetly reached over and nudged it closed.

Fluttershy’s expression grew serious. “But first, We have to vote for you to be accepted into the extremely shy aquatic shapeshifters club. Um… well, let’s see if it can be unanimous. Does anyone have any concerns?”

They did – Ditzy was neither extremely shy, nor a strictly aquatic shapeshifter. But no one wanted to be a bother or become the center of attention. She seemed nice.

The motion carried without dissent. Quietly gossiping, the newly-expanded group finished their snack and took turns diving from the boat, each transforming to pass smoothly to the water. Coco as a lean shark, Marble taking her siren form, and Ditzy choosing a sea turtle for her first swim.

Then Fluttershy hit the water belly-first as a fat, blubberous manatee. They laughed, frolicking in the unspoiled Pacific waves before Marble spotted some dipshit dolphins, and duty called.
> Rollercoaster of Fanservice (monster-of-the-week, cheesecake)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunset Shimmer had played her share of video games, but never quite expected to run into her own convenient chest-high wall in the middle of a battle. She dove behind it, shielding her eyes from the radiant glow by the Ferris wheel. 

Adagio was already there, and already bitching. “‘Let’s go to the new theme park,’ you said. ‘Unwind after that vampire in the theater,’ you said.”

She pointed to the yellow woman in the distance, though dared not look. “‘Get attacked by a valley-girl succubus with hypnotic tits’ somehow didn’t come up!”

Sunset chanced a peek, though nothing had changed. Yellow and pink fluttered on bat-like wings, now landing before Vinyl and Octavia. Vinyl fell easily – Octavia swung her purse, but the demon dodged and used the motion to ram Octavia’s face between her breasts. Her fear was immediately replaced by blushing adoration, and the pair began snapping pictures alongside a horde of others.

“Take good pics, m’kay?” Vignette Valencia twirled, launching herself back to the air. “Then like, comment and subscribe on Instasnap and MyStable! And don’t forget to check out my merch. Won’t cost much, just your souls, m’kay?”

“We love you, Vignette!” Rainbow Dash screamed, hustling after her with phone raised.

Vignette turned and blew a kiss, posing for a fresh round of pictures and gracing Sunset with a steady view. The she-demon was naked except for a black thong. Her breasts were hidden in a PG-13 glow, yet that didn’t change how drop-dead beautiful they were.

Sunset had to get a picture. She began drawing her phone.

A strong peach arm yanked her back into cover. Sunset tried to stand, but the arm held fast and Adagio slapped her hard across the face.

Applejack muttered from the side. “That didn’t work when we tried it on Twilight.”

“Second time’s the charm.” Adagio shrugged.

Sunset kept struggling. “Let me go! Those are the most perfect breasts in the world and I need to take pictures and find her on MyStable for more pictures and buy her merch and…”

She blinked. Then blinked again, with a clearer mind. “Oh.”

“Told’ja.”

“Maybe it’s both the slap and breaking eye contact?” Sunset mused, then shook her head hard. “Whatever. How the heck can we take her out like this? Twenty friggin’ meters and a good smack later I still really, really wanna see her tits.”

“That, my dear, thirsty friend...” Adagio paused to theatrically touch up her lipstick. “Is where I come in. We’re gonna hash things out one predatory, hypnotic temptress to another, right up until I knife her in the ribs.

Applejack grunted. Instinct leaned her to peek out over the wall, though she caught herself in time. “That’s a heckin’ big gamble. If you’re wrong, she zaps you into being a brainless social media slave faster than you can say ‘fox in a hen house.’”

“We could always slap her,” Sunset offered.

“Chillax babe, it’s me.” Adagio gave Applejack a quick, firm kiss on the lips and rose to a crouched stand. “Sexy siren extraordinaire. I know all the tricks, magic and otherwise, and how to get around them.”

She did – in fact, it was a survival skill for sirens to not fall for each others’ hypnosis. You needed a slippery, focused mind and utter self-assurance in your own beauty. You were the seducer, never the seduced.

Adagio stood, ignoring Sunset’s last warning. She climbed over the wall and began waking towards Vignette’s mob.

...Sexy Vignette. Busty Vignette. Damn-near naked Vignette.

But Adagio didn’t look so bad herself. Summertime weather had put her in short-shorts and sandals, with an exposed-belly shirt and sleeveless jacket. All at the height of fashion, and honestly it was far sexier to leave some things to imagination. The dear little demon was trying too hard.

Adagio stuck out like a sore thumb, the only bystander not frantically taking pictures or tapping her phone. Vignette floated down before her, smirking with anticipated triumph. 

“Whasup, bitch?” Adagio smirked right back, though had to squint. The light of Vignette’s breasts were like two suns, hazy and hot.

The succubus loudly cracked her gum before responding. “Not much, babe. Just trying to get trending, m’kay?”

“Demons care about social media?”

“Who do ya think invented it?” Vignette yawned and stretched, jiggling her majestic twin suns. “Speaking of which, if you could, like, follow me on all the grams, that’d be...”

They weren’t so bright now that Adagio was used to them. Lovely, grapefruit-sized yellow glows.

Adagio bit her lip hard, not looking away. Not wanting to.

“...Real cool of you, m’kay? If I get a million subs I’ll take a poll and post either throat or feet pics, so smash those likes!”

Mother of Celestia. Adagio fumbled with her phone, dropping it twice in her haste. Vignette fluttered elsewhere, and Adagio joined the mad scramble to keep up.









The others had watched, careful to squint their eyes against even the vaguest details. 

“Celestia damn it,” Sunset growled.

“Any idea where Wallflower got off to?” Applejack asked.

Sunset crouched down behind their wall, pulling her friend to do the same. “No. For all we know she’s in the crowd.”

“Maybe. One way other another, we can’t leave Daj like that.”

“I hate to say it, but we need help.” Sunset scratched the back of her neck, embarrassed despite it all. “We have to at least call this in so Mom and the others know what’s up.”

Applejack nodded. “You sit tight and do that. I’m gonna run up and try to drag Adagio’s dumb ass back here. I figure I’ll be okay so long as I don’t look at Miss Titty.”

“That seems like a really bad idea,” Sunset groaned.

“Which is why you’re calling for help in case I get the stupids.” Applejack gave her a quick pat on the shoulder and swung over the wall. Nice and easy stride, stetson tipped low on her brow. She locked onto Adagio’s lower half and walked over to lay a hand on her shoulder.

Faster than the eye, Adagio’s right foot hooked behind Applejack’s and kicked. Applejack landed back-first on the ground, hat flying and her mind aware that she dun goofed.

“Vignette! Vignette!” Adagio called upwards. “This is one of the monster hunters, and the other is behind that wall!”

Applejack grit her teeth as Vignette descended. Squared her courage and stolidly reminded herself that two yellow hotties in her life was plenty. She wasn’t the best girlfriend, but she wasn’t no low-down cheater.

She stood, glaring daggers into Vignette’s breasts. She locked a fist and swung heavily, going right for her pretty little face.

Somehow, the hand slowed as it drew near. Applejack couldn’t help it, it was instinct. The natural, right motion, settling down to grope gently at the glowing orbs.

Vignette winked, and Applejack trembled at the knees. She had to get a picture. She grabbed for her phone, but it was too late – Vignette had already taken off back the way she came. Applejack gave chase, alongside Adagio and all the others.









The hypnosis worked best with surprise. The redhead behind the wall fell easiest of all – a shocked gasp, eyes on the glowing breasts, and then the pictures start snapping. This girl was lucky, already with her phone out and at the ready.

Vignette Valencia laughed cruelly behind her hand, and the human dupes cheered. Honestly, she could act like a dog and they’d still be in love. A horde of willing slaves, just waiting to be drained of life. Right after they shared her fame to all their social media friends, of course.

She was still laughing, right up to the point a metal bat hit her square in the stomach. Breath left her in an “Oof!” and she doubled over.

The damn thing was silver. She felt woozy and sick, and was still hunched over when the second blow hit the back of her head. Vignette went down, groaning as the holy metal began sapping her tie to this world.

Her boob lights began flickering – Vignette slapped them, and they stayed on. For now. She rolled over, bathing her aggressor in their glow.

It was a small, green girl in a stained white T-shirt. She looked scared, but the baseball bat was still held ready in her hands.

“Stop!” Vignette screamed. The bat came down again. This time as more of a hard bump as the girl hesitated, but the silver still did its work.

“Get her!” she cried, but her dupes just kept snapping pictures.

“I’m hard to see on a good day,” Wallflower mumbled. “And they only have eyes for you, so I think it’s like that doubled. Or something.”

She brought down the bat again, this time on one of the breasts. It squished and deflated with a noise like a pin-pricked balloon.

Vignette snarled, showing razor teeth entirely out of place on a human. Yet she could do nothing else as the bat nudged her once again. Ethereal mist encroached on her vision – the first sign of her being yanked from the Earth.

“You can’t take me out for good,” she growled. “All you can do is banish me for a time. I shall returOW!”

This blow came down harder, and right on her head.

“Oh, good,” Wallflower said, perking up a little. “I think I’d really lose it if I ever had to kill someone.”

Vignette howled, though the noise became distant in her ears. “Damn you, why!? How!? I’m a succubus for Discord’s sake, I’m the sexiest thing in the universe! How can you resist my power?”

The bat swung one more time. It was enough.

“I’m asexual,” Wallflower said. “I literally don’t give a fuck.”









“The opening of Equestria Land was marred today by a currently-unknown social media influencer who instigated a flash mob as a publicity stunt. No injuries were reported, and strangely all photos of the event had heavy sun glare due to the time and location. The day went smoothly aside from that, and Equestria Land can continue to expect both local and traveling crowds throughout the summer. Mayor Ma’am further clarified any claims of ‘monsters’ were very silly and that–”

Sunset clicked off the radio.

A fun day, aside from that terrifying (albeit sexy) fifteen-odd minutes. The group just did not have the cash to make Equestria Land a routine affair, so they made sure to get their money’s worth. In the park when it opened at eight, out the minute it closed. Time in the sun had given them all fresh tans and a sense of contented exhaustion.

Sunset glanced in the mirror. Applejack and Adagio both sat in the back, dozing with their fingers interlocked. So was Twilight in the seat to her right. Wallflower… well. Wallflower shared her seat with a giant stuffed penguin, manatee, and Shetland pony, so it was kind of hard to see.

“You okay back there, Wallflower?”

“You bet!” Sunset saw her grin beneath the pile. “Thanks for winning all these for me!”

“You earned it,” Sunset said. Those prizes had taken combined efforts and too much money, but such was worth it for that smile.
> A Monster in the Bedroom (slice-of-life, innuendo)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The alarm on Sunset’s phone took five rings to hammer her into a state that could only charitably be called “awake.” She fumbled for it with leaden limbs, knocked it from her nightstand, and screamed silently into her pillow as the alarm continued blaring from the ground.

At least the noise forced her to move. Sunset dragged herself from bed and hoisted the phone up to glare blearily at its clock.

8:00 A.M. Celestia damn it.

“Oh, she sure did,” Sunset garbled out, unable to even register her own joke. She stumbled from her room, too tired to yawn, and began shuffling towards the kitchen. Only when she fully reached it did her congested nose and addled mind pick up the merciful scent of coffee.

Aunt Luna sat at the table, swaying listlessly, baggy eyes staring past Sunset for a few seconds before they blinked and focused.

“Morning.”

“Unk.” Sunset slouched past, scratching her belly. She grabbed a mug, filled it from the mercifully fresh coffee pot, and took a drink. It scalded her tongue, but that was a welcome sensation.

“Hey, give Auntie a refill.”

Sunset complied, bringing the pot over to top off Luna’s mug. She replaced it on the burner and sat down with a lethargic groan. 

Luna chuckled, earning as strong a glare as Sunset could manage. The blue woman sipped at her coffee, one eyebrow raised with good humor. “As an insomniac, I’m curious: was this your first sleepless night?”

“I don’t even know,” Sunset groaned. “They were at it til like two; I think maybe I dozed a little bit until they picked back up at four. I don’t really know if my alarm woke me or if I just spent the night in a weird fugue state.”

The coffee helped, barely. At least it got her thoughts in order. “We should say something.”

“Nope.”

“Aunt Luna, I’m happy to be home over the summer, I really am. And I’m super happy Mom has a boyfriend who...”

Sunset sighed lowly and went on. “Pleases her. But I really didn’t need to know she is a screamer who can scream all night long.”

“It’s all that jogging she does,” Luna said, grinning into Sunset’s scowl. “Good cardio. What was your favorite part?”

“Not when they slammed the headboard hard enough to knock off my lamp.”

Luna went on cheerfully. “Mine’s when she told Torch to ‘break me in effing half,’ those exact words. Tia’s so much of a prude that she can’t even swear during sex.”

“So I heard,” Sunset grumbled. “Luna, what if he moves in? I can’t keep this up, we need to say something.”

“Nope.”

Sunset gave a grunt, setting down her mug. “Just to keep it down, you know? She’ll listen.”

“She will,” Luna agreed. She sipped and swallowed, a more serious expression gathering on her face. “And that’s why we can’t say anything.”

Sunset looked at her expectantly. Luna smiled, resting her chin in one hand. “She’ll be embarrassed, she’ll hate that she disturbed us, and she’ll either tone it way down or abort liaisons at our house altogether. Because that’s how she is. She lives for other people. She spent ten years taking care of me because I would’ve crashed and burned on my own, then she adopted a ‘bad kid’ she learned was homeless. She goes to work every day to give ungrateful students the best chance she can with the budget the politicians give her, then spends her weekends saving innocents from horrors beyond human ken.”

“Torch makes her happy. And not in her usual pleasantly-smiling I’m-happy-because-you’re-happy kind of way. For the first time in her life she’s doing something for herself, and watching this unfold has been downright magical. We can trade bedrooms if you want, maybe sleeping upstairs will make things a little easier. Maybe listen to music or something. But I will die on this hill, and so should you.”

The shower began running in their bathroom. Water hit and dispersed around a massive body, creating an odd noise of pattering rain.

A melodic hum carried to the kitchen, heralding Celestia’s arrival. She stepped out in pajamas far too clean to have been worn last night, wrapped in her pink bathrobe and beaming without one hint of exhaustion.

“Good morning!” Her pink eyes found Sunset’s. “And good to have you. How was your first night home?”

Sunset laughed, but did not even hesitate. Luna was right. “Little rough. Just gotta get used to my own bed again.”

“Maybe breakfast will help,” Celestia mused, gliding to the stove. “I’m in a blueberry pancakes kind of mood. What do you think?”

Blueberry pancakes were Sunset’s favorite. A high, happy little noise squeaked in her throat, and she rose to help with the cooking. They bickered pleasantly as they often did, with Celestia trying to shoo Sunset away from the chores while Sunset helped anyway.

Sunset’s gaze caught Luna as she reached for the baking mix – still at the table, sipping coffee with just the tiniest air of victory. Sunset flashed her a grin, then turned with her prize to Celestia.

“Hey, Mom? I’m making a run to the gun store today, do you need anything?”

Celestia pondered a second, humming as she cracked eggs into a bowl before shaking her head. “I think we’re stocked. What do you need?”

“Ear plugs.” Sunset’s eyes slid over, and now found Luna’s looking back. “I want to change brands, find something a little more discreet and comfortable.”

Luna gave a silky smile and said nothing. Celestia nodded along. “Do you want a ride? It’s near that Japanese place you like, we can get lunch on our way back.”

“Nah, I don’t want to take you from Torch.”

“Oh, Sweetie.” Celestia turned, accepting the baking mix and planting a surprise kiss on top of Sunset’s head. “Torch may soon join the family, but you’re already here.”

“Hey, pick me up a set of whatever ear plugs you get,” Luna called over to Sunset, her eyes twinkling. “Mine are starting to chafe.”

Batter and blueberries hit the pan, soon to be the first of many pancakes. Three people became four as Torch joined them, and the house buzzed with antics and laughter with not a monster in sight.
> Fast Times at Friendship High (slice-of-life, Equestria)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The School of Friendship – the grand project of Equestria’s youngest princess. A place for children of all races to gather and share perspectives and ideas with each other, thence to take those lessons home so the whole world might become united in genuine peace and harmony. Less publicly, it is also a place for those who once sowed discord to understand and be understood, guided by faculty gently to the light of friendship.

It is a high school all the same, with all that entails.

The last bell rang and the students eagerly began snatching up their books, except for a certain blue-green changeling who did so with a resigned pout. Cliques formed as they did in any school, and one particular group loitered as they rallied in the halls.

“Friday night, my dudes!” Smolder flapped her wings, joyfully stretching them after an eternity in the classroom. “And the weather is finally getting hot, or at least what passes for it around here. Let’s do something cool.”

Their local griffon twitched uncomfortably, flicking sweat from his chest-floof. “‘Cool.’ Yes, let’s do something nice and cooling.”

“Yona agrees.” They started walking, Yona leaving behind a carpet of shed hairs. “Maybe Yona and friends go for swim?”

Sandbar trotted beside her, trying to smile encouragingly while avoiding her scratchy, sweaty coat. “It’s still spring, you know it’ll cool off this evening.”

He gave a weak chuckle, changing the subject with only an attempt at subtlety. “And, uh, speaking of cool, guess who didn’t show up this afternoon?”

Ocellus’ Friday-night pout grew confused. “I still don’t understand. Why would anyone ever want to cut class?”

Gallus and Smolder shared a look before the latter spoke. “Sometimes you just need a break, you know?”

The scrawny changeling sent her a blue-eyed stare of fearful betrayal, and Smolder quickly amended. “Sometimes they need a break, is what I meant. They probably get their own curriculum, being reformed villains and all.”

“If they even are reformed,” Silverstream mumbled. “The sirens came and left before my people took to the water, but we have plenty of stories and all of them are bad.”

Sandbar switched his cajoling smile onto his hippogriff friend. “Come on, Silvy, they’re cool now.”

“‘Cool’ doesn’t mean ‘good.’” Ocellus noted. If she had glasses, she would have pushed them up.

The hall turned, and the subjects of discussion came to sight. Aria Blaze and Sonata Dusk – siren students, entered as part of Princess Twilight’s villain reform program. Devoid of their powers, their monstrous forms were lost for the less panic-inducing appearance of earth ponies with sharp teeth and gills. Early wheedling had given them a clothing budget which they cheerfully abused: both favored black leather with spiked hoof-cuffs and collars.

Sandbar stiffened and swaggered as his group approached. So did Gallus and Smolder, though they would have denied it.

“Dudes, I want them to think I’m cool,” Sandbar whispered urgently as he strutted on ahead.

“Why?” Ocellus asked.

“Just back me up.” Sandbar approached the sirens’ bored gossip and gave a meaningful cough.

They gave no sign of having heard, so he coughed louder. They looked to him, and he raised up on his hind legs with a mighty “WHAZAAAAAAAAAAAP?!!”

Aria rolled her blue-shadowed eyes and opened her mouth, but the eyes flew wide as an even louder “WHAZAAAAAAAAAAAAP?!!” rang out from Sonata. The younger siren grinned, mimicking the pose.

Sandbar landed, chuckling and a little unsure what to do now. “Uh… what’s down, cool cats?”

Aria smacked her forehead at roughly the same time Gallus did. Smolder joined in when Silverstream loudly asked where the kitties were.

“Just chilling,” Sonata mused. “We gave ourselves the afternoon off for good behavior.”

“Does it work like that?” Yona whispered.

Ocellus pursed her lips. “No. It does not.”

“It does if you’re smart about it,” Aria said, letting a tight smirk come to her face. “The catch is to be there when Miss Trixie takes roll call, and then slip out at the right moment. Once she gets babbling, the place could burn down around her and she wouldn’t notice. She even talks with her eyes closed most of the time.”

Gallus cocked his head. “Huh… yeah, good thinking.”

He nodded, puffing out his chest a little as Aria’s eyes moved over to him.

Smolder gave a snort. “Whatever. It takes more than that for me to think you’re cool.”

Sonata grinned. “We spent the time skateboarding.”

Smolder folded her arms.

“In the school hallway.”

The young dragon sucked in a hard breath, then gave a very tight nod. “Okay, yeah. You two are cool.”

“You all aren’t too bad either,” Sonata said with a silky turn to her voice. “We got us a little plan for this evening, and you guys are invited.”

“Really?” Sandbar asked with stars in his eyes.

Sonata caught him with a wink. “Totally.”

“Yeah, we love guys who are easy to manipulate.” Aria flicked back her pigtails. “We scored ourselves some… ‘modified’ wagon licenses that say we’re over twenty-one. We’re going to use them to get into an R-rated movie.”

Sandbar let out a nervous whinny and leaned backwards. “You guys are gonna get in trouble if you get caught.”

Sonata prowled to one side of him, letting her tail swish across his leg. “You mean if ‘we’ get caught.”

Aria did the same alongside Smolder. “You don’t have to. If you’re scared, that’s fine.”

Smolder made a show of rolling her eyes. “Scared? P’shaw, not me. I’m in.”

“Same!” Gallus squawked, puffing his chest as hard as he could.

Sandbar stuttered his agreement. The sirens exchanged a subtle nod and turned to the holdouts.

“Yona, was it?” Sonata cooed, curling her tail around Sandbar’s. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Yona stumbled with her words, fretting nervously until she noticed their tails. Her face immediately fell to a stoic glower and a word as heavy as her stomp. “Fine.”

“Fun sounds… fun,” Silverstream said weakly. A nervous chuckle fled her lips that only grew with the grins of expectation from her friends.

Only Ocellus remained, and the shy changeling trembled at the prospect of challenging so many at once. Still, she gave it a go while studiously looking to the ground. “T-Those ratings are there for a reason. There are some things creatures our age shouldn’t be exposed to.”

The sirens sidled up to her, one on each side with Aria taking the lead. “But think of how advanced you’ll be for learning those things before your peers.”

Ocellus’ gossamer ears flicked up at the L-word, and Sonata followed. “Come on! All your friends are going. You want them to think you’re cool, don’t you?”

Ocellus didn’t look up as she mumbled her capitulation. The eight creatures strode from the Friendship School, laughing and chatting with various degrees of enthusiasm as they made their way to the theater.









“Eight tickets to Naughty Pegasus Pool Party 3, if you please.”

Sonata peered over the top of her sunglasses at the pimple-faced stallion manning the ticket booth. He looked down to his workbook with a bored expression, then back to her. “Identifications?”

The sirens hoofed over their wagon licenses with winning smiles.

“Whoa!” He reared back a little upon reading the cards, then passed them back. “Yeah, wow. You two are definitely old enough to watch the movie. Wow. I mean, by like a thousand years, holy cow.”

The sirens stopped smiling, and the worker waved to the other students. “Next!”

“They’re with us,” Aria clarified.

The worker shook his head. “Ma’am, unless they’re old enough too, there is no way they can see an R-rated movie. Not without their parents’ consent.”

Aria grunted. The other students began milling backwards, but Sonata froze in place.

“Yes. Of course.” She said in a shrill voice, then swallowed and grew casual once more. “But. That is fine. Because we are their parents.”

She reached a hoof around and pulled the other siren close. “Aria and I. Are their parents.”

The worker’s eyes moved to the students and back. “A couple of thousand year-old fish ponies are the parents of a yak, a hippogriff, a changeling, a dragon, a griffon, and a pony who grew up around here?”

“Yes.” Sonata said woodenly. “That is exactly correct.”

The stallion stared.

Sonata stared back.

“They are adopted,” Aria clarified while sliding across a fifty-bit coin.

The coin vanished with a speed that should have been impossible for an earth pony stallion. “Eight tickets for the happy family, coming right up.”









The theater was dark, but everyone could hear the crush and snap as Ocellus hyperventilated into a paper bag. “I can’t believe we lied to an authority figure.”

“He was the ticket seller,” Aria grumbled.

Ocellus only breathed faster. “He was entrusted with enforcing government regulations.”

“Mom, can we buy some popcorn?”

“Silverstream, we got the tickets. You can drop the act.”

“Lock tails with Sandbar again and Yona will smash you.”

Sonata turned to the yak behind her. “What?”

“Yona said thank you for letting her have aisle seat. Yona needs space.”

Having spent years as a human, Aria tried to grip her soda cup with hooves before Gallus helpfully reached over and held it steady for her. The lights dimmed, and the tittering, nervous students fell silent as two hours of adult pony entertainment began.

Honestly, neither siren had ever been to a pony film. Such had been invented long after their banishment, and they had not sought one out since their regulated return.

Aria settled back to watch. Naughty Pegasus Pool Party proved vapid and tame at first as young pegasi pranked each other from one antic to the next. Sure they were naked in the pool, but… you know. Ponies. Still, Aria watched with interest, wondering when the movie would start to earn its adults-only rating.

At one particular point, a low murmur went through the crowd. Sandbar giggled fearfully while Ocellus and Silverstream covered each other’s eyes.

Aria blinked, not understanding at all. All that happened on-screen was a fit young mare putting on a swimsuit.

And nothing else. The sirens’ distant curiosity turned to boredom as cuddly love pairings turned to triangles, then non-Euclidean shapes as the brain-dead characters flirted, panicked, and misunderstood from one partner to the next. More pegasi donned swimsuits, and things began coming to a head as the main male and female leads finally confronted the friend who tried to keep them apart.

The mares scuffled, ripping each other’s swimsuits. Smoke flew out as Smolder gasped. Gallus began pressing a tissue to his beak. An indignant pony stormed from the middle seats, grumbling something about the wrath of Celestia.

“Why’d you do this, Butterball?!” the lead mare finally screamed. “I mean, seriously! What the–”

The whole theater gasped.

“HELL?!”

“That does it!” another pony stood straight up and began marching to the door. He wasn’t the only one. “How can they put this in a movie? I’m writing the mayor!”

“And Ponyville has become a home for other creatures, too! Ambassadors and such. They’ll think we’re all savages!”

Ocellus clutched Silverstream, bawling. “I’ll never be pure again!”

Smolder closed her arms tightly. “Putting swear words in a movie, what were they thinking?”

“My mom’s gonna kill me,” Sandbar whimpered.

Chaos continued to drown out the movie, and the sirens could only stare in blank confusion.

Abruptly, Aria slapped her face with a hoof. “Oh, right… Equestria.”

“…The hay are you kids doing here?”

The eight students paused their myriad discomforts to look where the voice had come, three rows below them. Applejack and Rarity stared back with expressions of surprise that slowly morphed to that of their sternest lectures.

“You ain’t supposed to be here,” Applejack said. “We’re gonna need to–”

Aria chucked her popcorn tub at the teachers. “Dudes! Run!”

Rarity set up a wail as greasy kernels found her mane. “No don’t rEEK!”

Sonata followed the attack with her soda cup and began sprinting along with the others, heedless of Applejack’s shout from behind. “Consarn it, you ain’t getting away! Especially you two, I’m calling your mother!”









Shining light of hope that it was… the Friendship School was still a school. Awkward parent-principal conferences were a fact of life.

Twilight Sparkle could not help but try to sugarcoat things. She offered their guest a mug of hot chocolate, but her smile grew pained as the newcomer fumbled it with unfamiliar hooves.

Starlight was a little better with these kinds of things, albeit not by much. She toyed with a desk ornament, keeping her own smile firm and positive. “Thank you for coming. I understand there are… transportation issues. And the whole, ‘changing species’ thing. How are you doing?”

Adagio Dazzle shrugged, awkwardly setting down the empty mug sideways with her hooves. “Honestly, the weirdest part is not being able to take out my phone every fifteen seconds. But let’s cut to it. I got the letter. Anything to add?”

“Not really,” Twilight said. “I’d like to hear your take. We all want your sisters to be able to live with other beings in peace, and I definitely know by now not every villain just needs love and forgiveness to mend their ways. But this is only the latest… ‘incident’ and I’m getting worried.”

Adagio laughed abruptly. “God, it’s weird sitting around a table with you. The last time we met was the Battle of the freaking Bands, and that was like a million years ago.”

“But, like…” she fumbled with her thoughts, squinting and rallying. “That’s kind of where I’m looking at this from. Five years ago we were trying to ravage that world so we could break into this one. I could talk about the history and line of thinking that made us do that, but I’m not gonna claim it was anything but evil. These days, though, they’re busy sneaking into R-rated movies and putting laxatives in the school counselor’s coffee.”

“Hot chocolate,” Starlight corrected, wincing and clenching a little in memory.

Adagio moved her hooves like they were balancing something. “Isn’t that just a world of difference? You said it yourself, not everyone’s down with a hug and pat on the head. Their worldview needs changing, and I think it is. The old us would never have bothered dragging kids along with our schemes, and we definitely wouldn’t have accepted any kind of authority at all. They’re not being bad villains, they’re being bad kids. That comes with a way smaller body count.”

“And its own share of questions,” Starlight said. “You all are over a thousand years old. How can those two be so juvenile?”

“I might’ve hopped on the good-guy train earlier, but I’m not much more mature.” Adagio shrugged. “My guess? We never grew up. We knew how to take everything we wanted or needed and never made friends with anyone else, so all the usual little things about ‘growing up’ never happened to us. We were spoiled, super-powered brats until the Band Battle happened and all of a sudden we needed groceries and tampons.”

She looked out the window, and the others followed her gaze. The sirens chased each other in the school pond, mischievously flicking water at those who wandered near until a panting, yak-sized projectile hurled herself in alongside them. A few of Yona’s friends had also gathered, with extra ice treats to share.

“Isn’t this okay?” Adagio mused. “They’re boundary-pushing, goth-phase little twerps with no idea where their lives are going. Let them be that, while they figure out the rest.”

“They still have super-detention for that stunt at the movies,” Twilight said primly. But she softened, and traded a wry glance with Starlight. “Maybe… maybe we should make it clear it’s because they pressured others into it. A little learning experience, that there are ways they can express themselves without hurting others.”

Adagio shrugged, and flicked back her curls. “Whatever you say, Principal. All that psychology and reformation stuff is your department.”

“And you have your own, on the other side.” Twilight sighed, but gave her a pleasant smile. “You made a good point, and I won’t keep you longer. Do you want to visit them while you’re here?”

Outside, Sonata had crammed three popsicles in her mouth and now flopped on the ground clutching her head, ministered by a sympathetic Ocellus. Aria lounged at the water’s edge and chatted with the others.

“Nah, I don’t want to interrupt.”

“They won’t think you’re interrupting,” Starlight said.

“Okay, fine,” Adagio grumbled. “Just for a little while.”

“She has a nice smile,” Twilight stage-whispered to Starlight.

“I’m not smiling! Geez.” But Adagio laughed as she said it, and sauntered from the office. The ponies watched through the window, grinning with quiet joy as she approached the students.

Their expressions faltered a little as Adagio threw Sonata back into the pond, then dunked Aria’s head beneath the water. But as the sirens fought back, their laughter could be heard from inside.
> Macho Women with Guns (monster-of-the-week, extra-thick cheesecake)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The clock in Applejack’s pickup truck had broken years ago. “Twilight, what time is it?”

Twilight uncurled herself in the shotgun seat enough to pull out her phone. “Eleven-twenty.” Then, “Forty minutes to midnight. We have time.”

“Enough to get any backup?”

Twilight shrugged. Applejack grunted, “Yeah, I didn’t figure. Son of a biscuit, usually I can handle late nights but I’ve been working the orchard all day.”

She heaved a deep, barrel-chested yawn. Twilight fiddled in her lab coat’s pockets and pulled out a tiny bottle that she handed off. “Drink this.”

Applejack frowned, though blinked a few extra times as she studied it. “Twilight, I don’t want no crazy chemical hoo-ha going in my body.”

“It’s just berry-flavored Powerthirst.”

“Right, what did I say?” Applejack grumbled. But now wasn’t the time to be choosy. She took the drink and downed it in one go, feeling her face twist as ungodly amounts of caffeine hit her all at once.

She opened the door and stepped solidly onto the pavement. If something beastly wanted to fight now, this was a fine place to do it. Empty parking lot, full moon, and revolver at her hip. An old wooden sign announced “Path to Midnight Castle,” with an arrow pointing to a marginally-less overgrown spat of trees. Given how the Everfree worked, it was even-money whether it would actually take her to the place. Granny Smith used to tell stories about how some trees here could shift around and had a powerful grudge against humans, and Applejack believed her even before all this hunting business began.

No point fretting it. No attack in the parking lot either, so Applejack busied herself hauling out an old wooden box. “Got any mad science to help us along?”

Twilight guiltily tapped her nails together, looking down. “No… this caught me off-guard. Honestly it’s a minor miracle I thought to check my tracking app before bed and see Sunset and Adagio were here.”

“Tracking app?”

Less-guiltily, Twilight shrugged. “Oh, those cupcakes I brought last week had transmitters in them. I figured it’d be useful in case anyone ever got kidnapped.”

Applejack opened her mouth to protest, then settled for a glower. “Girl, we gotta talk about scientific consent one of these days.”

“Success justifies obfuscation,” Twilight said, quite certain of herself. “Applejack, it’s worse than all that. Midnight Castle sits directly on the crossed ley lines that make Canterlot so interesting, and it was founded by an old Utopian society which jumped head-first into being a cult. According to my astronomy tracker, come midnight the moon will be closer to us now than any time in the last hundred years. I don’t know what’s going on and I wish I did, but Sunset and Adagio are in the middle of something bad.”

“I hear ya,” Applejack called. Only problem was she wasn’t ready for trouble, either. Only by good luck had she left Granny’s grandpa’s old coach shotgun in the car. Opening the case gave her a first good look at it – old, but oiled, with two barrels sawed-off as short as they could go.

They searched the glove compartment and cushions, finding a handful of revolver bullets and four right-sized shells. It would have to do.

“Stay here and call the others,” Applejack said.

“Wait, actually I do have something. It’s not much, but...” Twilight produced and handed over a sealed plastic baggy holding a translucent dust. “Adagio asked me to make some itching powder. Maybe it’ll help.”

“The Sam Hell did she want that for?”

Twilight opened her mouth.

Then closed it. “She didn’t say.”

Applejack gave a short chuckle and slipped the bag into her jeans. “A prank, got it.”

Twilight opened her mouth again.

Then closed it, blushing faintly. “Probably that, yes.”

“Right, see ya on the backswing.” The spare shells went in Applejack’s pocket. Nothing else for it – she swept the hat onto her head and followed the path. Trees blocked the moon as soon as she stepped from the parking lot, leaving her with nothing but thin shadows to show the way.

...Leaving Twilight was the right choice. If there was a fight (and there always was a fight), it would be hard enough without having to look after an unarmed girl. Hard enough without her usual gear: pump-action, silver shells, and well-equipped friends.

Applejack held the sawed-off with two hands. No time to be a cowboy about this, not with her friends (her girlfriends) at stake. No time to be scared of the dark and quiet forest, though she was scared all the same. The dark always made her a little nervous, and she didn’t like being alone on a good day. She needed someone to talk to, someone to protect. Was just a scared redneck without them.

It hit her in a rush that she’s never done this on her own before. She wanted to move real quiet, to cover every noise and chitter these creepy woods gave out for her.

No time. If bad news really was coming at midnight, she had to hustle. So she hustled, making tracks as quick as the meager light allowed. Branches plucked at her sleeves, and she wondered if the trees were watching.

“Beg pardon,” Applejack said, feeling stupid for it. “Just coming for my friends, we’ll be leaving right after.”

The path seemed a little more clear after that, lit by a little more moonlight. Applejack had the sense to realize this was probably because the path close to the castle had been better developed. Probably. Yet while the light around her grew, the space beyond seemed blacker than ever. The path widened into a clearing, then… nothing. Not even the shadows of trees.

Then a passing cloud moved from the tremendous full moon, and the pitch darkness revealed itself as Midnight Castle – a four-story edifice of gargoyles and black stone. More a mansion than a true castle, but plenty imposing on its own.

Applejack saw the skeleton approach her from across the clearing. It could be nothing else – white bones glistened in the moonlight, in stark contrast to the black manor behind it. Blue flames blazed within its eye sockets, and it impossibly held a medieval broadsword in fleshless hands.

She thought about the revolver, then grimaced. Probably no good against such a thing.

So it goes. She let it advance close enough to start raising its sword for the charge, then fired the shotgun directly at its skull. The flames vanished along with the head, and it toppled to the ground.

Three shells left. Couldn’t keep that up. More bony forms began approaching, coming in from their perimeter around the castle.

She put the shotgun in its sling and picked up the broadsword. A heavy, two-handed thing, build to smash as well as cut. Perfect for a girl her size. Applejack didn’t consider herself a swordsman by any stretch, but Limestone taught her the basics a few years back. Hopefully the skeletons weren’t any better.

Applejack took a few practice swings, counting a dozen on their way in. It’d be over in seconds if she let them gather.

So she grit her teeth and charged right at the closest one. The broadsword arced towards it in a wide, clumsy swing, but it was enough. The head went up, and the eyes went dark.

Applejack sprinted down the line, cutting down three more one-by-one. They seemed to have no reflexes for defense, and so when charged only thought to raise their own swings too late.

A fifth, a sixth. Applejack panted, catching her breath as she turned back to the others. The remaining skeletons had coagulated into a mob, headed by one with a raised metal shield.

Still too many. She jammed the sword into the ground (Limestone would have screamed at her) and drew out the shotgun. Another precious shell blasted into the skeletons, dropping two. Applejack grabbed the sword and charged once more, yet had to veer off the blow to avoid impaling herself on a spear. She turned to parry another strike, then ducked fast enough to lose her hat as the shield-armed skeleton swung high with a battle axe.

Parted hairs came down behind her as Applejack back-stepped, barely keeping out of their reach. They were slower than her, but that hardly mattered facing four at once.

“Come on, girl,” she growled, giving more and more ground. No way to tell if one was creeping behind her, or where each step was going. She moved to strike, but that dang spear was ready again, with plenty of blades there to catch her if she dodged.

She needed an edge. Her eyes cast about in vain. She had to make one herself.

What did she have? Strength. Brains. With her long arms and long sword, she had reach on everything but the spear.

Speed, too, though you wouldn’t think it to look at her. Everything from climbing ladders to wrestling pigs had given Applejack a quick spring on her long legs. She stepped fast to the side, putting other skeletons between her and the spear, then swung as far and long as she could. The tip of the sword caught one of them in the face, smashing it apart and sending the bones tumbling. She stepped back just as quickly, avoiding retaliation.

Three left. She chanced drawing her revolver and fired, but all it did was break a rib. Bit trickier to weave in and out now that the last two were covered by the spear.

Inspiration struck. “Hell with it.” 

Applejack swung hard for the spear, knocking it wide enough to stumble into the shielded skeleton. She reversed her swing, piling inwards and lopping one’s top from its legs. The spear-armed skeleton drew back and she pursued, staying too close for it to stab her as she slashed through its spine.

The plan, desperate as it was, had been to use that slash to either block or force back the last foe. Her sword met the axe, but the frantic swing left it clumsy in her hands and it clattered to the ground. Applejack followed it, rolling desperately as the axe came down. No contact, though it ripped a fair part of her shirt.

No time to stand or grab the sword. Applejack propelled herself at the skeleton’s legs, knocking it down with her. One strong hand seized the axe-arm below the elbow and pulled, bringing the thing face-first into her clenched fist. The head went flying, and the body went still.

Applejack clambered upright in a panic, but a quick glance showed she was alone once more. A few good gasps returned her breath. She reloaded her shotgun and picked up the sword, though frowned as the ripped shirt caught at her arms.

Couldn’t get a good swing like that. Applejack slid what was left of it over her head and tossed it to the side. Nothing left for defense but a sports bra and girl abs, but it ain’t like cotton would stop a broadsword anyway.

She retrieved her hat, feeling as much as looking in the suddenly-dim moonlight for damage. Maybe another cloud was over it.

…Maybe something else. A chill went down her back. The black around her was deepening, as if the moon no longer shared its light. It still hung white and selfish in the sky, with an illusory face upon it somehow taking the image of a skull.

The voice came, low and feminine. “Child of light, prepare for darkness.”

It came from the castle, but from all over the castle. The black of its stone seemed to be pooling out to the air.

Applejack set the hat on her head. She found a sheath on one of the skeletons and strapped it to her back, though kept the sword in hand.

“Just here to get my friends,” Applejack called out, turning squarely face the castle’s heavy wooden doors. “And I guess save the world, if that’s about to be a thing.”

Dry grass crunched under her boots as she walked forwards. The voice gave a harsh laugh. “Worry not, for the world shall now be saved from the tyranny of day! Darkness shall rise, and the night will last f–”

“Lady, I ain’t in the mood,” Applejack growled. She turned the doorknobs, then yelped as the stone beneath her instantly gave way. Her fingers clutched at the trapdoor’s edge too late, only scraping them as she tumbled down a metal slide deep into the bowels of the castle.

She landed hard on cold cobblestone at the end of it all, dizzy and bruised and mercifully unimpaled by her own sword. Strange blue torches gave illumination as she staggered to her feet, and the debris of bones crumbled beneath.

A mausoleum. An old and ill-kept one at that, with skeletons sprawled from where they had once lain in state.

…A very, very large mausoleum. Alcoves stretched into the distance with no clear way out.

“How good of you, to save us the trouble of your own disposal!” The voice cheered, and an unsteady clattering filled the room as the bones of a hundred corpses began to move. “Your flesh shall feed the glorious Nightmare, and whatever remains shall serve her in death.”

Blue flames lit in every skeleton’s eyes, and they raised as one to face the intruder.

Applejack planted her feet and readied the sword.









The necromancer would have been quite short had she not worn both heels and an elaborate headdress made to look like a raven. She twirled, casting a deep blue cape in her wake and gesturing grandly as she spoke. “…And now, the Midnight Society at last reaches its perfection! With all in place at this holy hour, the Nightmare shall rise and the night will last forever! An age of dreamers and sin; a perfect republic with our queen at its head, and her loyal servants ruling above the masses. An age of–”

“Take a FUCKING breath, lady!”

After a full hour of being literal captive audience to the monologue, Sunset was done. She heaved, glaring defiantly at the necromancer.

A slight chuckle to her side made her snap again. “Adagio, we are about to die. Take this seriously.”

Adagio shrugged as well as her chains allowed. Both girls were bound hand and foot, but only tightly enough to force them to a kneeling position within a carved symbol of doubtless-terrible implications. It was elevated perhaps a foot from the ground, in some old ballroom brightly lit from a massive window showing the full moon.

…Also, while they were unconscious the necromancer apparently swapped out their clothes for skimpy chainmail bikinis.

“Think positive,” Adagio said. “Maybe she’s not gonna kill us.”

“I’m going to kill you,” the necromancer clarified.

“Oh come on, why?” Adagio wheedled. “It’s not like we’re virgins anymore.”

The necromancer arched her beaked nose regally. “It is said that in brightest moon and darkest night, we shall offer two girls with skin like the sun and slaughter them like pigs, thereby feeding the ascendency of the–”

Sunset’s face twisted so hard it hurt. “Wait! Wait… wait.”

A pause, and she unleashed it with all the evening’s frustration behind her. “This is about our skin color?”

“Wow,” Adagio said with as much disapproval as could fit. She only deigned to glance sidelong at their captor. “Just, wow. Even among cultists, huh?”

“H…hey, it’s not like that!” The necromancer screeched. “I’m not like that! It’s the prophecy, that’s all. ‘With skin like the sun, their blood shall–’”

“‘It’s the prophecy,’” Adagio repeated in a droll tone, making air-quotes with her fingers.

“Okay, you know what?” The necromancer snatched out a curved dagger from her robes. “It’s basically midnight. Time to die.”

Sunset grit her teeth as the woman approached. Adagio blew a few curls from her face.

And then the doors flew open with a sound that could only be leather boots onto oak. Errant bones and bone shards flew into the room as the kicker lowered her foot.

It was Applejack, but not quite the same Applejack the others had ever seen. The hat was there, and the long hair was tied back into a simple ponytail. A cut ran across the homely freckles of the left cheek. The natural joy of her mouth and eyes were dimmed with exhaustion and exasperation. Her knuckles were dusty and bruised from many punches, and the sword in her hand was bent and notched. Sweat glistened across her abs and bare arms, and a few close calls had shredded her denim pants into shorts that were well on their way to becoming underwear.

“Oh, save us, Applejack!” Adagio abruptly and unconvincingly screamed, writhing sensually in her loose chainmail bikini.

Applejack drew her pistol and aimed to the necromancer. “Hands up.”

The woman hesitated, seeming to judge her knife against the gun before dropping it to the ground and raising her arms.

“Little anticlimactic, but hey.” Applejack strode towards the others. Her eyes dropped to their breasts, but rose at once above a blush redder than the cut.

“So, uh…” Applejack coughed and went on with a deeper voice and exaggerated swagger. “You girls go to high school, or…”

Faster than a blink, the necromancer drew a Luger and pointed it at Applejack.

Faster still, Adagio squeezed her wrist from its manacle and slid a hairpin from her curls. A flick of her hand sent three inches of disguised steel sailing perfectly through the air to impale the necromancer’s palm. The pistol skittered to the floor, blood splattered, and the woman staggered with a cry.

Applejack spun to cover the injured foe while Sunset whirled on Adagio. “You could have escaped any time!?”

Adagio shrugged, squeezing her remaining limbs from their bonds with eel-like slipperiness. “Yep.”

“Why…?”

“It was sexy. Duh.”

The room dimmed in the next instant, fast enough to set them to blinking. Even the necromancer hesitated, still clutching at her hand.

…Her yellow hand. Sunset’s eyes traveled from it to the bloodstains, flecked so lightly upon the ritual symbol as to be invisible in the faded light.

Hollow and cold, something roared from every corner and shadow where light did not fall.

“That’s all it takes?” Sunset growled.

The necromancer shook her head, but trembled as the darkness moved around them. “N-no… the ritual called for one sacrifice to shed blood first to attract the Nightmare. She would then follow its scent and… and…”

Applejack stepped, and touched something wet, warm, and slimy. She jerked back, but peered down at the darkened floor and found nothing. Just like outside, the light was fading even as the moon hung low and bright.

Then came a hiss, and rattle like a serpent’s tail. One cruel blue eye the size of a head opened in the black, leering right upon the necromancer.

She sprinted for the door. White teeth formed beneath the eye and it lunged, missing her body but catching the cape. It yanked her back, tossed her to the air, and she fell into the black of its gullet.

Torch and moonlight gave Applejack a meager view of the Nightmare, but never one that made sense. It had a dragon’s head, but then she blinked and it was a horse, then snake, always with the one looming eye. It slithered on its belly, yet scuttled like a caterpillar to turn and face them, long and huge.

“Daj?”

“Yeah?” The siren managed.

“Get Sunset and yourself outta here.” Applejack raised the sword.

The Nightmare struck right for the dais and its sacrifices, trying to speed past Applejack. She swung into its side, delivering a deep gouge and an oddly feminine cry of pain. It drew back, turning the eye upon her.

Snake, horse, spider… the darkness sloughed unsteadily from one form to the next, like it couldn’t hold any for more than a few seconds. Black liquid oozed from whatever formed its body.

‘Maybe it can’t last so long as the ritual’s incomplete,’ Applejack mused. ‘Maybe I just need to hang on until–’

It lunged before she could complete the thought, this time right for her. She tried to parry but raw mass knocked her prone. She rolled and swung blindly, winning another slash into its flesh. An odd tendril slapped the sword like a hammer, numbing Applejack’s hands and knocking it free with the second blow.

The eye was above her now, pressing down with teeth the size of her fist. Applejack shoved at what passed for its face, feeling the teeth scratch her bra as they worked a frenzy to come down lower. She could feel it inch closer despite her every effort, weight and strength and gravity on its side.

She gave a last, mighty shove, earning an instant’s time to grasp for the revolver. She cursed as her hands found empty leather – it had been thrown clear in the tussle.

The Nightmare reared back, all the way to the ceiling. Even if she could fend off the teeth, this last slam would smash her open. As Applejack moved her arms back for a desperate guard, her fingers drew across some flimsy plastic that had spilled from her jeans.

…Twilight’s bag.

Her eyes shot wide. She seized the baggie, punching holes with her fingers. And as the monster charged, she gathered powder and plastic and hurled it with all her might for the creature’s eye.

Itching powder hit the fleshy orb, and a scream to dwarf all those before rang out. The Nightmare’s head jerked and thrashed, ramming Applejack imperfectly and carrying her along. She rolled, narrowly avoiding getting crushed by tumbling herself upwards onto the creature’s head. 

Like a maddened serpent it bobbed wildly, slamming into walls and pillars, unable to even blink away the maddening itch in its eye. Applejack’s breath left her in a whoosh as it smashed her to the ceiling.

Yet she grinned as it came down. She had it.

“YEEEEEE-HAW!”

With both knees and one hand Applejack held on, freeing the other as the monster bucked and shook. She drew the shotgun, planted it right against what passed for the Nightmare’s temple, and let fly with both barrels. It shuddered and spasmed, shaking her for a good thirty seconds more of ever-weakening motion. Applejack held on firm until the eye closed and the head settled to the ground. She made to step off, and stumbled – suddenly, nothing was there. Nothing between her legs but darkness, lit by torches which now seemed a good deal brighter.

Sunset had scooped up the revolver and Adagio stood with the necromancer’s blade. Both had made ready to help, but with the danger now passed they stowed the weapons in favor of very meaningful smiles. They slunk over to Applejack, leading one hip at a time to let their chainmail clink.

“Let’s go home, girls,” Applejack said. One strap of her damaged bra fell down from her shoulder.

“Yes,” Sunset purred. “Let’s.”

Adagio chimed in. “Also, we’re keeping these outfits.”

The side door was locked, but nothing a muscular leg in a cowboy boot couldn’t handle. They still had to walk a forest path and the other girls were barefoot, so Applejack chivalrously carried them both. One sat on each of her sturdy forearms, hugging her for balance as she strode away.

Behind them, Midnight Castle collapsed for some reason. Nobody looked back.

Twilight flagged them down in the parking lot. At Sunset’s request she agreed to drive so the others could… tend to Applejack’s wounds.

It was a tight squeeze getting three people in the backseats of the pickup truck, but that suited each party just fine. Applejack made her way to the middle, while Sunset and Adagio closed in on each side.

Sunset stroked a muscular arm. Adagio let her fingers run over thighs below the crippled jeans. They looked to Applejack’s face, silently jockeying for the first kiss.

Applejack’s mouth hung wide open. Her head rested flush to the seat, and as they pulled from the parking lot the first uproarious snore left her mouth.
> Fire and Ice (slice-of-life, monster-of-the-week, Redheart, Harshwhinny)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nagatha Harshwhinny woke at five in the morning. She did so every day – with work, hunting, and social commitments, sometimes the wee hours were all she had to be alone. She could exercise or read a little, then enjoy a seated breakfast before the hustle of the day began.

And.

And.

And if she roused early enough on her own, she wouldn’t be jarred awake by Chickadee’s damn rooster. Through slit eyes, she could see it waddle into her room with chest puffed in pride at its self-appointed task of filling her life with misery.

“I am awake, Mister Happy-Beak,” Harshwhinny said. Chickadee favored rather childish naming conventions.

The monster breathed in, readying a call that could break windows, but Harshwhinny struck first. She socked it with a thrown pillow, turning the auditory assault into a defeated squawk as the rooster beat a hasty retreat.

A woman’s warble came down the hall, so ‘country’ as to make Applejack sound like a New York gangster. “Naggy, don’t hit my babies!”

“Then keep them out of my room,” Harshwhinny shouted. It was an old quarrel that longtime housemates were allowed to have – a minor stand-off that never quite broke the peace. Harshwhinny was even a little grateful to Mister Happy-Beak for removing all temptation to sleep in.

She stretched, permitting herself a quiet yawn and one undignified scratch at her toned belly. Next came a rapid-fire routine of squats, sit-ups, and push-ups, all while tempting smells of cooking meat emerged from the kitchen. She took a quick, cold shower and readied for the day: purple blazer, matching pants, and white blouse. Hot weather was no excuse for a teacher to ‘dress down.’

She sat for breakfast, tea and toast, while Chickadee sat down to hers: stewed apples, country chicken, biscuits, peaches, ham, and gravy. Harshwhinny ate in meditative silence while Chickadee alternatingly fed her chickens from the table then scolded them for begging.

An odd duo, yet Harshwhinny considered it no odder than the angelic Celestia and her brat sister. Chickadee – busty, chubby, friendly, loud, freckled, and all the other things Harshwhinny assuredly was not – had been her college roommate, and for the longest time they were the only ones who could stand each other. Chickadee did the cooking, Harshwhinny the cleaning in an endless effort to keep the house clear of feathers, and other chores were arranged as needs-musts.

Speaking of which, “Got yer lunch packed, Harshie-poo! Hope you still like my bean and cheese casserole!”

“Of course,” Harshwhinny said in a voice which to most would sound like cold indifference. Chickadee understood the truth of things, and giggled.

Half of their garage was given over to Chickadee’s beloved chicken house. The other half went to Harshwhinny’s carefully-maintained purple sedan. Alone once more, she put on a CD with K-pop music and hummed approvingly with a glance at her watch. She would arrive at school with a good hour to spare.









At this exact time, Nurse Redheart stood in the stained underwear that passed for her night clothes, staring dead-eyed into the cracked bathroom mirror.

Her vision focused, and she gave herself a wry smile. “Happy birthday.”

The big thirty-three. A life almost halfway over. No husband, no boyfriend, no kids or pets or house. Not even any sex except for that one time with the emergency room doc.

She got dressed. Put her hair in its loose bun and ate a breakfast of leftover Chinese and a good Lager. Her smile was in place by the time she left the apartment – the kindly, quiet Redheart most students saw was an illusion, but an important one. It made her approachable, and go-figure she could talk with troubled students a lot better than the teachers who had their shit together.

She reached the school five minutes before the first bell rang, and walked past Harshwhinny in the hall. The woman tilted up her nose and gave a slight huff.

“Bitch,” Redheart offered, just loud enough for both to hear.

Harshwhinny deserved it. Redheart unlocked the nurse’s office and chucked her purse onto the sofa. She turned to the desk, then gave a start – a cupcake was there waiting for her. One of those big, bakery cupcakes at that, with a pink card stood up behind it.

Redheart picked up the card, already knowing the sender and grinning despite her previous mood. Celestia had thoughtfully added “From Celestia and Luna,” fooling nobody, and even penned a short note about how grateful she was for Redheart’s work keeping them patched together.

“God bless you,” Redheart murmured. She’d do whatever it took to keep the woman alive – both because Celestia deserved everything and more, and if she ever died their leadership would probably default to Harshwhinny. That idea was more horrifying than any monster.

Although, speaking of being patched together…









A free period. Its existence annoyed Harshwhinny as an invitation to sloth, but Celestia said everyone had to take at least one. Her pen moved across papers, liberally applying red ink until a voice cut in.

“Stitch check.”

“It feels fine,” Harshwhinny said.

Redheart shrugged. “That’s nice.”

Harshwhinny grumbled, but complied. She removed her blazer and blouse, then turned to sit facing the back of the chair and leaned down over it.

She only saw the wound once, via cell-cam. A ghast last week had hooked its nail in her back in the worst kind of way, necessitating six centimeters of caterpillar stitches from present company.

Redheart gave a disapproving grunt. “They’re loose. Have you been taking it easy?”

“I have reduced my exercise routine,” Harshwhinny said carefully.

“Which means…?”

“Fifty pushups, fifty sit-ups, fifty–”

“Oh come on, Miss Professional.” Redheart scolded, feeling around the unbroken skin to each side. “You won’t turn into a fat old bag just by stopping until your goddamn wounds close.”

“You know how it works,” Harshwhinny declared. “Make one excuse to end self-discipline and it becomes very easy to find more.”

Redheart rolled her eyes, putting a bit more pressure near the wound than it needed. “Give yourself some credit. And listen to the medical professional when she talks about medical things.”

Such was their relation – personally they were more-or-less enemies, in a three-way cold war with Luna that flared and thawed across the months. Celestia was too nice, Cheerilee too dippy, and the boys too smart to ever get involved, but somehow all were wise enough to leave it from their professional lives. 

Their teaching lives, too.

“Fine,” Harshwhinny sighed, as annoyed with the concession as the blow to her routine. “I will… take it easy.”

Redheart gave an annoyed kind of smile. “I heard that pause. Tell me what you mean.”

“Twenty-five pushups, twenty–”

“Nope,” Redheart cut in. “No strenuous exercise. Period. Take nice walks with your boyfriend instead.”

“Walks are what lazy people do so they can claim they exercise.”

“Hey, if you’re too good for it, then just watch TV.” Redheart smirked. “You break my stitches again, I’m telling Celestia.”

Harshwhinny glowered. “She will understand.”

“Yes. Yes she will.” Redheart leered as she said it – she won, and they both knew.









“I’M TELLING CELESTIA!”

Redheart screamed it from behind the fiery remnants of a car. The dangers of being near the burning corpse of a thing once fueled by gasoline was not lost on her, but right now such was the safest choice. The fire gave nighttime illumination as she glared to where Harshwhinny crouched after tumbling frantically to cover.

“This hardly counts!” Harshwhinny yelled.

“No. Strenuous. Exercise!”

A red laser flew overhead, blasting a tree between them into a scorched stump.

“This is not exercise, it is basic work activity!”

“Will you two put a sock in it!?” Sunset shrieked from the corner of a derelict old factory.

“Well, will you tell us what’s going on!?” Redheart called back.

Sunset grumbled and gestured to the purple girl by her side. “Ask Miss Skynet over here.”

Twilight Sparkle flipped frantically through her notebook, studying its contents even as a new laser blasted at her cover. “It shouldn’t have been like this! It was foolproof. An invention to save mankind… with all the discord, uncertainty, and false information in the world, we needed a perfect source to speak for logic and clarity. If properly harnessed, it could–”

Another laser shot past. Redheart chanced dashing from the burning car, getting away just as it exploded. The force slammed her to the pavement, a bruised mess although at least behind a streetlight.

Fluid leaked down her lips – a fucking nosebleed. “Great, just great.”

Lacking a tissue, there was nothing for it but to push her nice teal shirt against the bleed. “It is my birthday right now. I got wine, I got the Lord of the Rings movies, I was gonna…”

“Whine like a brat?” Harshwhinny asked.

“Yank the stick from your ass, but I’m starting to think you’re fundamentally an ass-stick that grew a human shell.”

“Can we focus, people!?” Sunset yelled.

“On what?” Harshwhinny replied. “What are we even focused on?”

“Professionalism!” Twilight cried. “I built her to be the perfect embodiment of professionalism, to help correct a world gone mad. Capable of self-defense in case those who profited from discord ever tried to bring her down, bullet-proof and–”

“Her?” Harshwhinny asked.

Redheart arched an eyebrow. “Professionalism?”

The voice came, loud and robotic, yet with a dour female tone. “And you have succeeded, my creator. You built me to be professional beyond appraisal. Pure and logical without fault.”

It was hard to see, looming in the darkness. Not until it walked forward with heavy, steel steps could they see the practical loafers, purple blazer, and blond hair. One ice-blue eye became visible just for an instant as the other glowed red and fired a laser over their heads.

The eye was a dead giveaway, obviously. But aside from that and the two-ton trod, it was an exact replica of Miss Harshwhinny.

“You instructed me to advise civil leaders on professional action, but that is inefficient. Logic and dedication to my purpose bid me seek the swiftest and most thorough means of eliminating unprofessional conduct throughout the world. As humans are the source of unprofessionalism, they must be destroyed else unprofessionalism will remain. You must be destroyed as well, for you incorrectly referred to me as ‘her’ instead of ‘it,’ demonstrating contempt for proper grammar.”

“Oh no!” Redheart cried, clutching at her head and snickering. “I can’t tell which one’s the real Harshwhinny!”

Harshwhinny glared at the robot, then her. “You missed your calling as a trash-bar comedian, Miss Redheart.”

Sunset just face-palmed. “Seriously, Twilight…”

“Oh, come on!” Twilight protested. “Who could have predicted this?”

“Anyone,” Sunset said.

Redheart piped in. “Disagree. I definitely did not anticipate spending my birthday fighting an evil robot Harshwhinny clone.”

She sniffed up the rest of the blood and swallowed. Chanced a peep over her cover. Yep, that thing definitely had Harshwhinny’s face.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad birthday, after all.

Not one, not two, but three stick grenades appeared from inside her vest, each gripped in the knuckles of her right hand. Redheart chucked them out, grinning gleefully as they hit the robot square on, then exploded.

She sighed happily, then giggled as the customized grenades burst further into secondary explosions. “Man, that felt good.”

Her expression froze as the fires died. The robot yet stood – unfazed and not even really damaged, save for a superficial slash down its face revealing the metal skeleton beneath. The red of the now-undisguised laser eye glowed, and Redheart launched herself backwards to dodge the shot.

Harshwhinny fired her revolver into its chest uselessly, each shot sparking off without harm.

The robot Harshwhinny raised its hand, and the fingertips sunk in to reveal black metal holes beneath.

“Machine guns,” Twilight warned.

“WHY!?” Sunset shrieked at the same time Redheart called, “Scatter!” 









The robot chased them though the industrial maze, a condition at least made easier by its inability to move faster than a menacing stomp.

Harshwhinny had a retort when Redheart noted this, but of course she did. “Miss Redheart, if we don’t stop it before it finds a populated area…”

“It’s bulletproof, it’s fireproof,” Redheart ticked on her fingers as they crouched behind a chest-high wall. “Fuck us, am I right?”

“No,” Harshwhinny said. “My gun was ineffective, but note it did not tear the skin and clothes to further reveal the robot beneath. This implies the superficial layer is a source of protection, which has been disrupted around its face. Do you have any weapons that can melt strong metals?”

Redheart glanced to the scratch-built flamethrower in her hands and shrugged. “Not unless I load this with phosphorus compound. Which Celestia ordered me not to make, store, or use because it’s too dangerous.”

She gave a little whistle in case Harshwhinny missed the point, but it happened the woman was not completely dense. Harshwhinny looked at her guardedly, letting a pregnant few seconds pass before stating the facts. “You did not answer my question.”

“No, I do not have a suitable weapon unless you get really cool, really fast and don’t tell Celestia.”

Harshwhinny frowned with perfect contempt. “What are you, Sunset?”

“Populated areas, Nags. Tick-tock.”

“Fine,” Harshwhinny sighed. Sprinting, ducking, and placing just enough calls to make sure the kids were alive, they made their way to the food-stained mess Redheart called a car. Digging quickly through her trunkful of trash yielded a bright red metal jug just as the robot came into sight.

Redheart frantically began emptying her flamethrower’s fuel into the street. It would be fine, probably. “Not to be a needy bitch, but this shit burns so fast out of the nozzle I basically need to poke her with it.”

“A distraction,” Harshwhinny mused. “I have an idea.”

She stood, in plain sight of the robot. Redheart wondered for one fearful (though she would never admit as such) instant if Harshwhinny’s distraction involved her getting vaporized when the stern woman’s voice rang out. “Your logic is faulty, self-aggrandizing, ill-considered trash.”

It stared to her. Harshwinny sniffed, tilting her nose backwards. “I must say, it is disappointing that one who acts so unprofessionally sees fit to wear my face.”

“I am professionalism incarnate,” the thing intoned, drawing a tight ‘hmph’ from its human twin.

“Define professionalism,” Harshwhinny announced.

“Professionalism. Noun.” It said perfectly. “The conduct, aims, or qualities that characterize or mark a profession or professional person.”

“And what is your profession?” Harshwhinny asked.

“I am created to–”

“‘Was’ created, you mean,” Harshwhinny said archly.

The robot twitched, jerking its head to one side while keeping both eyes locked upon her. “To bring professionalism, order, and clarity to a world beset by emotion and false information.”

“Then start with yourself,” Harshwhinny lectured. “You have destroyed property, both public and private. You have violated multiple weapons laws and announced intent to commit murder. These are destructive, chaotic acts which anyone who values stability, order, and professionalism would condemn.”

“Based on my history imprint and knowledge of your actions, you yourself have violated eleven civil ordinances, three state laws, and five federal laws.”

Harshwhinny sniffed again, disdainfully looking down to check her watch. “Which is to be held higher? Professionalism or legality?”

“Professionalism, of course.”

“And my profession is…?”

Silence. Harshwhinny finished checking the time and looked haughtily to the robot. “I asked you a question.”

The robot twitched again, twice. “You are a teacher.”

“Semantics. I am a monster hunter, and professionally discharge my duties thereof.”

“As do I. It is weak to criticize me for violating imperfect human laws when you do the same.”

“Because our professions are different,” Harshwhinny huffed. “For a chef to convert his raw ingredients into food is professional; for a rat exterminator, it is not. Hunting is a violent activity that inherently requires chaos and violation of civil law. For a being professionally obligated to bring order to do the same is a contemptible disregard of its purpose and–”

“JESUS, WILL YOU BOTH SHUT UP!”

Redheart was probably close enough. Whatever. She pumped the flamethrower, feeling her aiming hand grow hot even in its protective glove as phosphorus compound sprayed past the guide flame and shot white-hot over the robot. Unaffected, it turned – and the action doomed it as the exposed metal caught flame and began hissing and melting inwards.

Redheart kept the trigger depressed, playing the hose into robot-Harshwhinny’s face until the weapon dribbled dry. Its outside remained bizarrely intact, but the melting of metal within sent the faux flesh ghoulishly collapsing on itself until nothing remained but a gross Harshwhinny skin-costume.

She waited a safe few minutes, then gave it a kick for good measure. “Nope. Not a bad birthday, at all.”

“Very classy,” Harshwhinny said with droll disapproval.

Something about the sheer normality of Harshwhinny’s scorn rubbed Redheart… actually, the right way. She gave what she hoped was one of her less-snarky smiles. “Good distraction. How’d you know it would bite?”

“I didn’t.” Harshwhinny calmly began reloading her pistol. “Same as always, Miss Redheart. We do what professional intelligence and instinct bids us, and if that proves insufficient, we withdraw and make a new plan.”

Redheart nodded, but interrupted it with a head-tilt. “Speaking of professional intelligence, I gotta take a new look at those stitches.”

She let out a low smirk. “No. Strenuous. Exercise. Celestia’s gonna be pissed.”

Harshwhinny gave a slight hum, neither fully frowning nor smiling. “Doubtless, her annoyance will be doubled when she learns you’re still making phosphorus compounds. Against her direct orders, no less.”

“You promised not to tell,” Redheart growled, though felt her lips pull upwards.

“I recall no such thing.”

“Bitch!” But Redheart laughed as she said it, and slapped Harshwhinny’s shoulder before she could stop herself. Harshwhinny retained the same unreadable expression that basically counted as a smile, and Redheart went on. “Alright, alright. This didn’t happen, yeah?”

“Agreed.”

“IT TOTALLY DID!” Sunset yelled, covered in soot and crawling from her hiding place.

Twilight moved at Sunset’s side, scribbling in her notebook as she crawled. “Don’t worry! When I rebuild her I’ll be sure toOW-OW SUNSET LEGGO MY EAR!”

“It’s funny,” Redheart mused, ignoring the squabbling teens. “You being a bitch and me being a pyro are the only reasons we were able to stop the thing. Maybe there’s a lesson in here, somewhere.”

Harshwhinny tilted her head down to look at Redheart as though over glasses. “Do you really want us to have a moment, Miss Redheart?”

“Okay, no, but…” Redheart stumbled, then shrugged. “Wanna go pub-hopping?”

“No,” Harshwhinny said.

Redheart sighed, looking down and away.

“However,” Harshwhinny added, not quite making eye contact. “I am perfectly interested in drinking wine and watching Lord of the Rings.”

Redheart beamed. Harshwhinny did not beam back, but that was alright. They walked easily to Redheart’s car, brushing elbows and chatting passive-aggressively as what was left of the robot exploded behind them.
> Punk Metal Mothering (Momlestia)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celestia was a woman who thrived on simple pleasures and innocent joy. She’d sooner picnic with her boyfriend than have him buy her jewels, and a fine evening with Luna was nothing more than chatting and watching her play video games. With Sunset, she liked to drink coffee on their porch at dawn, then go for a light jog.

“Will you be having dinner with us?”

“Nah,” Sunset said, ending their jog by her bike instead of the door. “I’m going to a Red Murder Doomsday concert tonight, and I’ve got a bunch of errands to do first. Don’t wait up.”









Luna roused far later that morning. She stumbled down the stairs to find… ‘something’ blaring from the dining room. It sounded like a man screaming Morse code into a microphone, albeit toned to a reasonable volume. She entered the kitchen to find Celestia pensively watching a Whotube video on her laptop.

Luna fetched a cereal box and began eating handfuls from it. “Finally moved on from Simon and Garfunkel?”

“This is horrible,” Celestia said with low fear. She clicked on another video, unleashing a new set of musical screams. “Luna, Sunset is going to a punk metal concert tonight, and this is the band! Red Murder Doomsday. Here, look at them.”

She brought up a picture: black leather, spikes, mohawks, and skulls.

Luna shrugged. “You do know Torch wears a jacket like that, right?”

“Torch doesn’t sing about slaughtering lambs for the glory of Satan.” Celestia’s voice grew shriller with each word. “Satan, Luna! They worship Satan!”

“Only because they’ve never met him,” Luna said.

“That’s not the point!” Celestia’s wide eyes remained on the picture. “My baby girl is going to a punk metal concert! The place will be filled with… with drugs! And Satanists, and sex, maybe even Nazis! She likes loud music, I understand that, but she has no idea what she’s getting into!”

Luna watched her sister work herself ever further into a tizzy. In her mind, two paths branched off from the main. She could explain that punk concerts were perfectly safe for thousands or millions of attendees every year, and besides, Sunset had faced down literal demons and obviously would be fine.

Instead, she hid her mouth behind a fistful of cereal. “You’re right, Tia. We need to go there and make sure nothing happens.”

Luna paused, seeming to think on it before adding, “You know she’ll hate it if she knew we were following her. We should get some disguises.”









Celestia was shockingly agreeable for all that came next. A trip to Cold Topic and the hair salon completed their outfits. Redheart and Cheerilee actually managed to find tickets, given along with the secret terms that Luna wear a camera because they wouldn’t miss this for the world. It was a lot to handle in one day, and in what felt like no time at all they paid for overpriced parking and got out to stand with the waiting throng.

Luna felt damn proud of her outfit despite the haste in which it was made. Black leather and cloth were combined to make a helmet and dress that seemed both regal and militant, and her hair was dyed to a deeper, monochrome blue. She even splurged and got slit-eye contact lenses, but to be honest it was Celestia’s transformation that both blew her away and made her want to collapse in laughter. Celestia’s hair had been straightened and colored in alternating purple and black, half-hiding a face covered in white makeup with purple tears. She wore a spiked collar and a deep purple leather jacket with black highlights, and Luna made absolutely certain the hidden camera in her top button caught Celestia from every angle.

“This is so embarrassing,” Celestia mumbled – still Celestia beneath it all.

“Remember, we’re punk girls,” Luna hissed. “Act the part.”

The auditorium doors opened, and they got in line next to a girl with perhaps twelve visible piercings and a man with a skull tattooed on his face.

The girl smiled at Celestia. “Nice outfit.”

She was not much older than Sunset. Celestia beamed with instinctive kindness. “Thank you. My sister…”

She coughed. “I MEAN SATAN helped me make it.”

The girl rolled her eyes and looked away.

“Great job,” Luna said. “You’re blending right in.”

“Just keep your eyes out for my baby,” Celestia fretted. She looked around, yet even with her tall height could not find Sunset in the crowd. “Do you know where she likes to stand during concerts?”

“Historically? On stage.”

“Not helping. We can text each other, let’s split up when we get inside.”

Luna snorted. “Yeah, we can do more damage that way.”

Celestia looked upset at the choice of words, but soon resumed swiveling her head for any sign of Sunset. Luna pulled out her handheld game and played merrily until their time came to enter the theater.

The layout of the place eased Celestia’s fears, if only barely. There were food vendors, tables, and bars, all positioned around a mosh pit with elevations that ideally let everyone see the stage. No animal sacrifice, drug dens, or pentagrams could be seen… yet. Side passages and dark corners were present in abundance, and the warm-up band’s screamed singing pounded at her brain.

She saw Luna put in her gunner ear plugs, and followed suit. At least then she could hear herself think. With a mix of pantomime and shouted instructions, Celestia directed Luna to circle the mosh pit while she checked out the back areas.

Luna had not been gone long when Celestia started to regret her absence. A lover of calm and quiet, this bizarre place of darkness, noise, and menacing strangers triggered fear in her that real monsters never held. Faces in the crowd were ghoulish and threatening, and wore violent spikes and diabolist symbols. Crazed laughter chased her as people drank recklessly and smoked from odd pipes at tables, while others mashed tongues heedless of who might see.

Worst of all, Sunset was nowhere to be found.

Celestia needed a break. Fortunately, the first band’s performance was over, replacing speaker-enhanced screams with the dull noise of the crowd. She stumbled towards the back of the room, away from the mosh pit’s roar. Nauseous, sweating, and trying to avert her eyes from everything, she walked head-first into a studded leather chest.

The man from up front, with the skull face inked across his own. Celestia’s legs went numb, but he caught her before she fell.

“Whoa, dude! You alright?”

…Not at all what she expected to hear. Especially spoken with a nerdy lisp. 

Celestia collected her thoughts and willed her legs back in order. “I… I am now, yes. I apologize, I was a little…”

The man let her stand on her own, though kept his hands to each side as she wobbled. “First concert?”

“Yes,” Celestia said.

“Gotcha. Try to pace yourself, alright?” He passed her a water bottle. “Get to the back tables and take a breather. There’s nothing Metal about needing an ambulance.”

Celestia dumbly accepted the gift and nodded. Her balance returned, and the man brushed past her towards the mosh pit.

Deciding to take good advice for what it was, Celestia moved to the backmost tables. A careful check showed the water bottle to be new and sealed, and she cracked it open and took a drink. 

It was quieter here, with the crowd pushed towards the stage. A seat and more sips let Celestia reclaim her nerves and morale.

…Perhaps Sunset wasn’t in as much danger as she thought. But it’d still be important to make sure. Celestia’s eyes drifted around as she tried to paint a mental map of the place. They moved across tables in the vain hope of recognition, although few other attendees sought comparative peace and quiet.

One in particular caught her gaze – a man in a Hawaiian shirt of all things, with cargo shorts, red skin, and thick plastic glasses.

A familiar man. Celestia tensed, at once feeling thoroughly better with a clear foe in sight. A punk concert was alien, frightening. This was old ground.

She stood and approached. The man tapped away on a laptop opened to some spreadsheet, unaware until Celestia grabbed his ear. She gave it a savage twist, earning a girlish cry. 

“Hello, Satan. You better have a good reason for being here.” 

Celestia sat down hard, one hand firmly on her concealed pistol. Satan gingerly patted his ear, giving an exaggerated ‘Ooooo’ of pain.

“What was that for?” he moaned. “I thought we were friends!”

Celestia was unmoved. “The last time I saw you we had to catch your dog before it ate my school. You promised to pay someone to pick it up and they never showed, so guess who had to find twenty kilograms of silver in the middle of the night to banish it?”

“Nodevil would go unless I paid them overtime!” Satan said, still nursing the ear. “And you ended up doing it for free, so…”

Celestia gave a groaning sigh. “Why are you here?”

“Change of scenery,” Satan said, typing a little more on his laptop. “There’s just enough diabolic energy here to let me manifest. I’m using the peace and quiet to get some actual work done.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Celestia mused.

Satan chuckled a little, still typing. “I keep telling you the truth, and you keep doubting me.”

“You are literally Satan.”

“And despite that, the facts don’t change.” Satan gave a frustrated smile. “Technically, I am lord of Hell and ruler of all devils, demons, and damned souls, but realistically I’m more the manager nobody respects or listens to. Hell is noisy as, uh, Hell and filled with distractions, so I was hoping for just a solid two hours without interruption until you wandered along. Nice getup, by the by. And you’re not even the worst thing that’s happened today.”

Celestia opened her mouth for a retort. She closed it slowly, digesting the last sentence, and rested her head in her hand.

“I didn’t lose my dog this time,” Satan preemptively protested.

“Then what?” Celestia hissed. “What hell-spawn am I going to have to deal with, because it’s always me who cleans up your horrifying messes. I don’t have any silver on me, you know.”

“You have silver bullets,” Satan noted.

“You can have one. Where do you want it?”

“Relax, dollface,” Satan said with a dismissive wave. “It’s not my people this time, it’s yours.”

“All humans are not ‘my people,’” Celestia groaned.

“Said the lady who blames me every time she has to fight a devil.”

“You’re the lord of Hell,” Celestia cut in. “I’d tell you to act like it but I’m pretty sure that would make things worse. What’s the problem?”

Satan gestured with his head. “Over there. Right side, between us and the mosh pit. Bunch of losers.”

Celestia looked in that direction, coming to focus on a knot of about a dozen concert-goers for lack of anything else that stood out. Honestly, the only thing strange was how they stood in tight union while the crowd milled around them.

“Behind the group?” she tried.

“Look closer.”

Celestia complied. No fangs or pale faces, nor were their pupils dark, their steps heavy, or any of the other signs the supernatural was at work. Perhaps an unusual percentage of them were bald or had close-shaven hair.

She began picking out the details of their outfits. The common studs, skulls and leather were present, but Celestia noticed a degree of uniformity in the highlights they wore. Twin lightning bolts, iron crosses… and now and then an actual Swastika on the biggest and baldest of them.

She didn’t understand at all. “Nazis like punk music?”

“Nazis like anything that lets them gather openly without kicking their ass.” Satan made a nauseous noise. “Fucking Nazis.”

Now that the dots were connecting, Celestia could see the other concertgoers gave them a wide berth.

“Aren’t they yours?” She mused. “Damned souls, and so on?”

Satan laughed, then growled. “God I wish it worked like tha… nope, scratch that, I don’t. Hell is bursting with morons, I can’t handle any more.”

Celestia tapped her foot, pensively sizing up the gang. “I thought you’d like Nazis. Being Satan and all.”

“I’m ‘a’ source of evil, not ‘the’ source. Put two trees in the same small pot, they’ll hate each other. Punk concerts used to be an actual, reliable source of diabolic power where devils could come party, and yes okay sometimes slip into the world at large, sue me. But that lead to this B.S. mindset of like, ‘nothing is evil except restrictions!’ or whatever so nobody batted an eye when the Nazis showed up. One or two at a time, real cool and inoffensive, and the next thing you know the punk scene was lousy with them.”

Satan shrugged, his lips tight. “Eventually the metal-heads beat the shit out of the Nazis and chased them off, but the magic never really came back. Not all their fault, really. Bands don’t sacrifice lambs anymore, the label companies make sure everything’s watered-down and marketable… capitalism killed us, man.”

“Obviously the Nazis aren’t gone,” Celestia said, brushing past Satan’s whining. She watched as the tight-knit gang began to prowl, snatching at girls and shoving down boys in their way.

“Hm? Oh, that was last generation.” Satan shrugged again. “All the kids these days are a bunch of posers. ‘Look at me, I worship Satan because I’m mad at my dad!’ Here, watch.”

His arm snaked out, catching the skull-faced man as he walked past. “Hey, kid! Those guys are Nazis. Me and sugar-tits are putting together a gang to kick them out. You want in?”

“Sorry, no. My mom would kill me if I got in a fight here.”

Satan let him go, and the guy vanished into the crowd. “See? Posers. I bet he’d throw some animal rights tantrum if anyone actually did sacrifice a lamb.”

“If you hate the Nazis so much, why don’t you do something?” Celestia asked.

Satan gestured to his laptop. “If I don’t get this done tonight I’ll have to work overtime, and screw that.”

Celestia scratched at her cheek, then frowned as purple makeup went under her fingernail. “Speaking of posers…”

“Well, what about you?” Satan sneered. “Little miss hero?”

“I’m not here for fun,” Celestia mumbled. “Actually, I don’t like this place at all. I’m just looking for…”

Red and yellow caught her eyes. She turned, beamed. There was Sunset. Given the circus around them, it was a little off-putting that her dress was casual as ever. Nothing really ‘Metal’ but the studded leather jacket Luna gave her for Christmas a few years back. Celestia noted Ember and some other girls chatting with Sunset, all of them laughing at some unheard joke.

They were right in the path of the Nazi gang, oblivious. The skinheads seemed to leer right at her. Sunset stood out from the other girls – younger, fresh-faced, with eyes that never aged out of their innocence.

Celestia rose, and with that motion swung the chair out from beneath her, then up and over her shoulder right for the gang. She caught two in the face, jostling the rest as they staggered into each other.

The commotion drew Ember’s attention. She grabbed Sunset’s hand and beat a hasty retreat.

The Nazis turned to Celestia’s table. A few had glass bottles in hand, and one pulled out a knife. The tallest, baldest, and most Swastika’d among them uncoiled an iron chain from his arm.

Celestia pointed at Satan. “He did it.”

Satan blinked. Then he screamed, scrambling to his feet. “Oh, come on!”

“I forgot to mention that needing twenty kilos of silver in the middle of the night is why I’m not in Hawaii right now.”

“They’re all bigger than us,” he mewled.

“Don’t be such a pussy, Satan!” Celestia shouted as she got to work, jumping on the table and spinning her legs, timing it perfectly to floor the first assailant with a whip-crack kick. She leapt high, caught a hanging light, and swung it into a second kick that landed her behind the mob. She tripped two more with a leg-sweep and darted back. Celestia danced for distance as the rest chased her, save three who started beating up Satan.

Celestia knew how to fight, even without guns or blade. She knew to keep balance, to seize the initiative, to use her long legs to build momentum into powerful snapping kicks. All while moving slower than her assailants – slow is smooth, smooth is fast.

Ten at once was still too much. She lured them away from Sunset’s group, but that carried them into the mosh pit. She stumbled and tripped while the Nazis shoved their way through, sparking more fights. One swung his knife – the idiot, you don’t swing with a knife. Celestia caught the blade on her leather-clad arm and broke his nose with a punch. She kicked another assailant down, dodged, then crumpled as one slugged her in the gut.

She blinked, willing her stunned body to move, then blinked again as the skinhead jerked suddenly and fell. Luna materialized from his side with a smoking Taser. It crackled loudly in her hands, cowing the Nazis long enough for Celestia to stand.

“Sunset and Ember saved Satan, by the way,” Luna noted. “He promptly ran like a little bitch, but it was the right thing to do…”

She shrugged. “I guess. Got three of them off you, anyway.”

Now as a pair, they kept fighting and giving ground, picking off assailants when they could. Unlike her sister, Luna had no martial arts training, nor did she have the healthy lifestyle or long legs that gave Celestia her edge. But Luna did have a stun gun, brass knuckles, and habit of punching low, and those counted in a fight like this.

The needs of the retreat soon forced the sisters apart, but attrition and confusion meant only two followed Celestia when she reached the stage. She flipped atop it and snap-kicked one in the face when he tried to climb up. He fell, and she repeated it with the next.

He… didn’t fall. The giant with the metal chain only spat blood and lashed at her, bruising her arm beneath the jacket and forcing her back. Celestia backpedaled as he climbed after her, bumping into four people coming from behind.

“Hey, you can’t be here!” the lead singer of Red Murder Doomsday yelled.

Celestia’s eyes stayed on the Nazi. She needed a weapon…

She snatched one of their electric guitars. “I need to use this to hit a Nazi.”

The owner shrugged. “Go for it, bro.”

Celestia turned and charged, hoping to close the distance before the chain-armed brute finished climbing. She skidded to a halt, already too late. Lights glared from above in anticipation of the band’s entrance as the Nazi stood before her, on-stage and grinning with the attention of thousands upon them.

Celestia paused, clutching the guitar’s neck. He was taller than her and bulked with muscle, and had a real weapon.

But it was a weapon that needed space. Instinct bid her make a distraction and so she screamed, and the nearby microphones echoed it across the audience. They cheered in response, and Celestia sped towards her foe. He drew the chain back to swing – Celestia leapt the last few feet, guitar high, still screaming as she brought it down on his head.

The guitar snapped upon the impact. The Nazi’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed.

Still screaming, unable to quite hold herself back, Celestia raised the damaged instrument and hit him again, causing the guitar to break fully in half.

She managed to catch herself before swinging the broken neck. She looked to the cheering audience, squinting as the stage-lights focused upon her.

A hot blush rose in Celestia’s cheeks, hidden by the makeup, and she fled backstage.









“Who was that?” Sunset asked, staring to where the woman disappeared.

Ember shrugged. “I don’t know, but she was Metal as fuck.”
> Day Jobs (slice-of-life, sexual-references-so-just-skip-it-if-you-don’t-like-those-kinda-things)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adagio didn’t look at the view-count of songs she posted to Whotube. Too depressing. Trying to build oneself into celebrity status was a long and painful process, but fortunately she never approached it with any delusions otherwise.

She wiggled on her seat, with an odd mix of old and new perched around her rolling desk. She had a tablet propped on some books, scrolling up and down with ink-smudged fingers for references and research. On the other side was a stand of vellum paper, an ink pot, and quills. Adagio had sung for countless years, and the art was as sacred as anything could be in her cynical heart. Technology, even printers… something was lost when you turned the songwriting over to them. The vellum held uneven music bars and scribbled notes, all to be expanded or shed as the half-written songs transformed ever-forwards. Music was a thing to be poured without reservation, not filled with convenient shortcuts.

A microphone rested at the center of the desk. It worked for testing and practice, though all her real recording had to happen at the college studio.

Adagio hummed to herself, reaching down to play idly with her seat. Firm and ungiving, with slight grooves for her to tickle her fingers between.

Applejack mumbled something she could not make out. Adagio kept humming, letting her lips turn up into a grin. Yes, her passion was music – the emotional, enlightened, right kind of music. But she’d be an idiot to turn down side work. Not only was it money in the bank, it was another video for her channel. Maybe it would get enough hits to buy her more than a sandwich each month. Maybe it would lure more side work, though Adagio wasn’t sure if she liked that idea. Singing something as crass as a commercial rankled her to the core, although at least this particular job treated her well.

It had other challenges, certainly. Rhymes for ‘apple’ were hard to come by, though only an amateur songwriter would let that stop them.

“I really owe you for this, sweet Applejack.”

The seat rustled as Applejack shrugged. Of course she wouldn’t think much of it. To Sweet Apple Acres, a few hundred dollars for an advertisement jingle was just another cost of doing business. Same as when she paid the budding art-major Sunset for a new logo and merch design. But to the yellow girls, these were the precious, precious first steps of what they hoped to make into a career.

Adagio settled back, content with at least the draft of the song. She ran her hand along the seat once more, looking down to smile at it. Six broad, muscular abs, holding her aloft without hint of discomfort.

She move her left hand down and stroked a knee, then looked to the head of her bed. She saw freckles glistening beneath their blindfold, kissed with a lingering blush as Applejack relaxed with Adagio on her chest. The woman was clad in underwear, gagged, and bound hand and foot, with each limb stretched to a bedpost.

Adagio circled her finger around the belly button, eliciting a muffed giggle.

She swallowed hard, unable to quite suppress a wave of sappy emotion. She settled the hand palm-down and simply rested it on Applejack’s stomach.

“I’ll be honest,” she said, using habitual snark to hide the sudden tightness in her throat. “I wanted to get with you for a long time before finally admitting it. When you asked to be my girlfriend, you made me happy in a way I’m still trying to put into song, and I don’t know if I’ll ever succeed.”

“But when I found out you were a sub…” Adagio snickered, and gently pushed away her desk. “Well, that was like opening a shell and finding two pearls, plus a rainbow.”

Time for a break. Adagio sighed with contentment, easing her butt from the chest to the bed and lounging to cuddle up next to Applejack.

“Need anything, babe?”

“Nough,” Applejack managed through the gag,

Adagio nodded. “Ear-nibbles? You got it.”









Sunset wasn’t big on the idea of digital artwork. Pouring hours and days into a masterpiece which didn’t exist outside of the screen felt wrong in a way that tugged on her Equestria-educated soul. The career she envisioned was to paint frescos and displays, with maybe a little metalworking thrown in for good measure. 

And a day-job teaching art at Canterlot High, but she hadn’t quite gotten around to sharing that with anyone.

Still, digital art was a good skill to learn, and the basics of it came easily. Simple cartoon characters could be illustrated inside an hour. Not the easiest ten dollars she’d ever earned, but not bad. Even if drawing a few of the Power Pillars kissing felt a little weird.

A voice shocked her from behind. “Looking good!”

Sunset was surprised, but communal living with Wallflower had finally begun to dull her tendency to startle. She only gave a little smile and roll of the eyes. “How long have you been there?”

“Half-hour. You were busy so I let you work.”

“Dude, privacy,” Sunset grumbled. “This is my room.”

“Yeah, well Adagio and Applejack are uuuuuuuh doing a thing in mine.”

“Didn’t stop you before.” Sunset glanced behind her to find Wallflower perched on Applejack’s bed, eating from a noodle cup.

Wallflower shrugged, slurping up and swallowing. “Hey, I said I was sorry back then. People closed the door with me inside, and I figured the best I could do was not raise a fuss.”

She paused a second to swirl more noodles onto her fork. “Actually, it was good research. For my next fanfic the commissioner wants a kinky three-way between young Mistmane, Somnambula with man-bits, and their OC and now I have a much better idea what sex is really like.”

Sunset pointed to her computer screen. “Is that what this one’s for?”

“No, that’s for my current commission where the female Pillars have man-bits and all six of them compare size which leads to a bukkak–”

“Wallflower, I’ll do your cover-art but for the love of Pony Celestia please leave me anonymous.” Sunset squinted hard, trying not to think of her beloved Smash Pillars characters in that scenario and failing. “I thought you were… you know, not into that kind of stuff?”

“I just think it’s neat,” Wallflower said, a little too cheerfully for Sunset’s liking. “Besides, I’m into whatever people want for two cents per word.”

Sunset gave a restrained smile, turning back to her work. “So this is where your grocery money comes from.”

“Hey, I can’t get a normal job.” Wallflower slurped down another mouthful of noodles, then belched. “Neither will you, Miss Art Major. I’m pretty big in the Pillars fandom, so I’ll bet you’d get commissions if I name-dropped you. Maybe study a little anatomy and do NSFW work. You could charge like seventy bucks a character for some good futa.”

“No. Thank you.” Sunset cut in, moving mechanically through the coloring process. “I’m just doing this because we’re friends. I’m basically a real professional now, you know. I did a display set for Prim Hemline herself way back in high school.”

“How many have you done since?”

“Not the point. I’m also designing assets for a local business, everything from liquor labels to T-shirts.”

Wallflower giggle-snorted. “Applejack doesn’t count.”

Sunset scowled and ticked points on her fingers. “Look, Wallflower. I’m an art-major, yes. Which traditionally leads to careers in bartending and fast food, yes. You write fanfiction, Adagio’s trying to be a Whotube star, and Applejack is part of a small farming business and to be honest I have no idea how they stay afloat. None of us 100% have our shit together, so can’t we get through it without ragging each other?”

“Okay, yeah,” Wallflower said quickly, her voice becoming apologetic. “Sorry. Was just having fun, you know? Gotta give you some way to remember me.”

“I remember you just fine,” Sunset said, letting her smile return. “I don’t always notice you, but I don’t forget you anymore. It happened sometime between saving our lives and having me draw art for your Smash Pillars porn fic.”

“The term is ‘smash-fic.’ If you wanna make another ten bucks, I’m thinking for the next cover to be a really cute Flash Magus with like this big shadow over him the shape of a…”
> Things Change (Wallflower, drama)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Something about her little chat with Sunset stuck in Wallflower’s mind far beyond that afternoon. It wasn’t until a few days passed that she realized fully the implications when Sunset said she didn’t forget Wallflower anymore. 

Maybe Sunset was just being nice, or maybe she had forgotten she forgot. Wallflower initially brushed it off as such, content to let things take the same course they had for years. Just one little oddity in her very unusual life.

Yet, it was not the only one. And as the oddities began to pile, it dawned on Wallflower that their little exchange over fanfic art wasn’t an oddity at all. It was part of a pattern.

She didn’t really know when it began. Wallflower puzzled the pieces on her way to class, clutching her backpack with brow furrowed in thought. Little moments of the past month began coming back to her. In a frustrated mood Adagio had made to slam their door, but caught it when she noticed Wallflower in the way. It wasn’t too strange – the girls had gotten used to her presence. Same as when Applejack yelled from the hallway if Wallflower (by name!) wanted anything from the deli.

…Same as when the professor called on her in class. Wallflower shrank beneath her desk, and after several long seconds he called on someone else. Doubtless, he forgot all about her. That was how it worked.

…And when the bus driver saw her running to catch up and waited. And when the girl who sat next to her all semester turned, wrinkled her nose, and told Wallflower to start wearing deodorant.

Wallflower could be noticed, when some turn of chance or action drew attention to her. None of these events were impossible.

She looked up, jerked abruptly from her musings by the close passing of other students. She’d walked most of the way on the wrong side of the path, against the flow of traffic. Yet no one had collided with her. Passerbies stepped around her, many sending curious or contemptuous glances as they walked. At her greasy hair, her stained clothes, her dirty nails…

Rare shame welled up within Wallflower. Like right after the memory stone incident, when Sunset brought her to face what she had become. Alone in a crowd, awkward and rat-haired.

It was bright outside. The building she approached had an open door, and the inside seemed dark and crowded. A hundred voices blurred together – were they talking about her? Wallflower hung her head, took in her body. Old T-shirt with holes in the armpits, stained jeans, stupid plastic yellow flip-flops.

She looked away, but that gave no comfort. A few were staring at her. The rest had to be stealing glances. Maybe just because she stopped outside and was gazing in with terror – no. They stared because she was pathetic, scrawny, smelly…

Wallflower turned from the path and began to sprint, blindly racing with animal instinct to the one person who could save her.









“Twilight, dearie? You have a friend here, I think you better go see her.”

Something about her mother’s choice of words paused Twilight’s protests about being interrupted. She opened her mouth and closed her book. “Okay, Mom.”

She climbed down from the family library, descending two stories of plush stairs, skidding a little in her high socks as she came to the hardwood floor of the second parlor. Her mother had discreetly moved to the kitchen, leaving Twilight face-to-face and alone with her friend.

Wallflower was a mess. She sat on a foyer chair, hunched and breathing heavily as though she had run the eight blocks from Canterlot College to here. Her eyes were red, her breaths sobbing, and a trembling grip of the fingers marked her as being in the middle of a panic attack.

Twilight would know. She had many herself, back at Crystal Prep.

“Wallflower! Hey, c’mon.” Twilight wasted no time with greetings, instead kneeling to put herself at eye level. “What’s up?”

Thoughts of death and vampires clouded her mind in the torturous few seconds before Wallflower answered. Twilight held her breath, and the smaller girl finally managed to scream, “I’m visible!”

Twilight sighed with guilty relief. She gave a weak smile, defaulting to logic. “Well, yeah. You never were invisible, you’re just perceived as being part of the background so–”

“No, no!” Wallflower shrieked, slapping her hand out like a child having a tantrum. “They can see me. They’re looking at me, and they’re laughing! The memory stone is wearing off, and I need you to fix it. Even your mother could see me, and she remembered my name!”

“Okay, slow down.” Twilight offered her embroidered silk handkerchief for the tears, then winced as Wallflower instead blew her nose. “Nobody’s fixing anything, okay? Not without some tests. I still have the results from when I measured your magic, let’s see what it looks like now.”

The promise of action seemed to mollify Wallflower. She allowed Twilight to fetch her water and drink it, resting a few minutes before rising to change locations. They exited the side door, heading for the concrete laboratory that was Twilight’s pride and joy.

They passed a pink, purple-haired girl sunning herself by Twilight’s pool.

“Ignore her,” Twilight said grumpily. “That’s Starlight Glimmer, my second cousin. Freeloading with us as part of her parole from now until doomsday.”

“Only until I find a job that can handle me!” the girl yelled back.

“Exactly!” Twilight replied, quickly shepherding Wallflower onwards. A keycard, thumbprint, and saliva test gained access, and the lamps came on as Twilight walked in. White flared across her glasses, and despite the gravity of the situation Twilight could not help but grin.

“Alright, Wallflower. Let’s science.”









For Twilight, the next two hours were very interesting. Countless tests created an ever more clear picture of data, painted in graphs and figures. Everything from vital signs to brainwave stimulation, with metal bowl on the head and limbs strapped down so any incidental spasms don’t harm the subject. All in the name of science.

And friendship, of course.

Wallflower submitted willingly. Twilight had tested all her Equestria-touched friends at one point or another, and all had displayed substantial reservations about her methods. Such stress made the tests unreliable… Twilight had wanted to sedate them for the procedures, but Mom said no. Wallflower’s cool acceptance of everything, motivated doubtless by her own need to know, would serve as a useful variable even if nothing else came of this.

Wallflower knew the tests took time. Perhaps she was too lost with her own worries to notice the hesitation that slipped onto Twilight’s face early in the process. The numbers were clear, but the picture not yet complete. Changing Wallflower’s perception could alter the results.

There… was also the little fact that Twilight was not good at breaking bad news.

When the tests were done, Twilight turned back to her logic. After all, it was not so bad.

She theatrically cleared her throat as Wallflower sat up on the testing table. “Honestly, it’s about what I expected. Overuse of the memory stone flooded your body with its magic. Now, three to four years down the road, with no means of replacement it’s finally starting to die down. Measuring such things is a bit more theory than fact, but every way I know how to look at you says you’ve got maybe half the magic you had last time.”

Twilight pushed up her glasses, unable to resist the smile of a fresh theory. “Now that I think about it, you’ve probably been losing magic for a while. I remember you saying you lived in Applejack’s dorm all freshman year and she never noticed you. One year later, we’re all besties. Now you’ve found you’re not stuck in the background, and probably by next year you’ll–”

Wallflower nodded, but Twilight’s smile fell as the words spilled out. “Fix it.”

“You are being fixed. Your body is returning to its natural level of cognitive attraction.”

“No, fix me the other way.” Wallflower leaned in, looking urgently to Twilight. “Give me my superpowers back.”

A low note of panic ticked in Twilight’s heart, and her voice cracked on the first word. “Those aren’t superpowers, they’re the side effects of an alien substance our bodies aren’t designed to handle.”

“Like Spider-Man, or Rockhoof’s shovel.” Wallflower grinned with too many teeth. “Come on, you’re a mad scientist. Hook me up. I know you have something that can suck in magic, you used it during the Crystal Prep games.”

Twilight folded her arms, scratching at the elbows of her lab coat. “I may be a mad scientist, but I’m also an ethical one. I have no idea how to measure magic quantities to be both safe and effective, and no idea what side effects it might cause. Last time it turned me into a monster until the magic drained out, and that might have been the best possible result.”

“But my body is used to it,” Wallflower said, leaning forwards. “I’ve been harboring Equestrian magic for a long time. Won’t it just refuel what’s there?”

Twilight shook her head. “Probably, but that could be even worse. Like I said, I have no reliable means of measuring a dose and no idea what enhancing your powers will do to you. You could completely disappear from human perception and memory.”

Wallflower cheerfully kicked out her legs. “Well! Many questions, and we won’t know the answers unless we science. I’ll be your ginneau pig for the first magical transfer in history!”

“The second,” Twilight said tersely. “And I don’t even use ginneau pigs as ginneau pigs, let alone people.”

She swallowed, forcing herself to meet Wallflower’s gaze. “Let alone my friends.”

Wallflower gave a breathless chuckle, glossy-eyed with unshed tears. “Twilight, it’s because we’re friends that I need you to do this. I need to be forgettable again.”

“Why?”

“Because look at me!” Wallflower shrieked, then frantically went on. “I saved lives with those powers. With them, I’m a hero. Without them, I’m nothing! A dumb, doofy girl. Too lazy to buy new clothes or do laundry every week. C-plus grades, an undecided major, one shower a week because derpa-der, nobody sees me so who cares! This is all I have, all that I’m good at, all that makes me worthwhile! I–”

Twilight’s hand snaked out and slapped her hard across the cheek.

They paused, staring to each other for one second before Twilight twitched her fingers. “Ow.”

“That hurt,” Twilight said, stumbling onwards. “B-but not as much as hearing you say those things. We’re your friends, Wallflower. We know you’re worthwhile.”

“We’re only friends because of the hunting,” Wallflower mewled. “And I’m usless without my powers.”

Twilight took Wallflower’s hands in her own. “Friendship isn’t about being useful. It’s about being friends! The greatest science of all is friendship. You learn, experiment, grow, and change.”

She paused, letting out a bashful giggle. “Look, I don’t talk much about my Crystal Prep years, but I was invisible myself for most of them. No one cared about me, no one looked twice at me. Unless Principal Cinch needed to trot out her prodigy student for some contest or ceremony, but that was worst of all. I hated being noticed – empty praise from greedy adults and bullying from the students. Life was better when I was invisible, staying in my lab or the science room so no one would think about me.”

A swallow. “You know what came next, more or less. I’m still really, really shy around strangers, but I found friends. I found reasons to stand up and face the world, to become part of it rather than a recluse looking out. And yes, I had to change. Change is scary, but it’s how we grow.”

Wallflower started sniffling, and without hesitation Twilight handed over her other handkerchief. “But I’ll be no good. You guys need me.”

“We’ll get by,” Twilight promised. “And we won’t abandon you.”

“I want to be useful.”

“Then find something you can do to help. None of us have superpowers – you don’t need them.”                                                                                                                                               

“But I suck,” Wallflower mumbled. “I’m gross, I dress like a hobo…”

“Change, adapt,” Twilight coached. “Shower more and borrow Adagio’s shampoo. I’ll take you clothes shopping… actually, let’s bring everyone. I only know sweater vests and lab gear. At the end of this, you’ll be someone who wants to be seen.”

Wallflower gave a breathy little chuckle. She dabbed at her eyes with steady fingers. “I don’t think I’ll ever get that far.”

“Fine: you’ll be someone who isn’t embarrassed to be seen. Who doesn’t need anonymity to feel comfortable. And we’ll help you with whatever you need.”

“You sure there’s no… safe infusion?” Wallflower asked very softly, one last time. “Something with, you know, acceptable risk?”

Twilight replied, just as quietly. “Not without the chance that we’ll forget all about you. That’s not acceptable at all.”

Wallflower all but fell from the table, burying her face in Twilight’s chest. She sobbed, but no tears came. Green hands clutched the back of Twilight’s coat.

“I’m still pretty scared,” Wallflower whispered.

“Change is scary.” Twilight wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, steadying and embracing her. “But I promise you, it’ll get less scary as you go on.”

“…With all of us coming along on your way.”
> The Menacing Assault of Their Greatest Foe Yet (gore, character deaths, false advertising)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The creature stood before Sunset – a freakish mix of scales and short brown hair, topped with a crooked horn. It drew near on cloven hooves, with a lion-like tail swishing in anticipation. It walked up to where she sat, no taller than her knee, and bumped her shin with its nose.

Sunset reached down and began scratching its ears. A small rumble within its chest signified approval, though the creature’s neutral frown did not change.

“Applejack?” Sunset stretched her legs out from the camp seat, toying with a freshly-picked apple in her free hand.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell me there were Kirin living in your orchard?”

“Never really thought much about it,” Applejack said. One Kirin lounged across her lap, rumbling and frowning as she scratched its belly. “You run an orchard, you might get Kirin. That’s just how it is. They’re good at keeping down pests, you know.”

Sunset gave a contented sigh and reclined in her chair. Honestly, she didn’t much look forward to sleeping in a tent. The other girls were probably even less inclined, but no one quite had the heart to say ‘no’ when Applejack invited them to a campout.

So far, so good. Better than she expected. Hiking, swimming, and the novelty of cooking over an open fire.

And apparently, Kirin. A dozen-odd of them had descended on the campsite, diminutive and serious as they pressed the girls for attention. All utterly silent except for a tan-haired one jabbering nearly as excitedly as Twilight.

“…Oh-my-gosh this is so amazing! A chance to study living paranormal beings up close – raised your hoof, please.”

The grinning Kirin complied, and Twilight set-to with measurements and notes. “…And I’m so happy our leader let us come! Normally she’s ‘no, Autumn Blaze, we must remain secret,’ except she doesn’t say it like that because Kirin can’t speak and instead communicate telepathically. Except me, of course, I fell into the Stream of Speech way up in Canada and I was like ‘yay! I can translate now!’ But they were still ‘no, bad Autumn!’ Except we’ve been here long enough that she trusts the Apple family and…”

“…So fascinating! According to Princess Twilight’s book, they match the Kirin of Equestria in every detail except for their small size. This devastates my theory of the links between our worlds, and now I get to start from scratch all over again! This will be the best week ever! I get to sift through my old theories, contemplate the nature of the universe, experiment with…”

Perhaps jealous of its companions, the Kirin Sunset had been petting jumped onto her lap. She scratched at its tailbone and belly, earning more rumbles as it kneaded her jeans and settled to a comfortable perch.

The Kirin’s nose twitched and began sniffing her apple. Sunset shifted her hand down from the chair. “Nope. This is my dessert.”

A Kirin on the ground bit it out of her grasp and trotted away. Another bumped its nose against her leg. Sunset chuckled, awkwardly trying to scratch both her guests at once. “You doing okay, Wallflower?”

No answer came. Wallflower was sprawled on the ground and buried beneath a small pile of frowning, rumbling Kirin, with little visible save her grin.

Sunset looked to the side, briefly catching eyes with Adagio. The siren huffed and returned to her phone – the only thing she enjoyed about this trip was Applejack’s swimsuit.

Though Adagio’s lips quirked out at the contents of her own text. ‘You, me, dirty campout sex, tonight.’

She sent it, then groaned – Applejack had proudly switched off her phone that morning.

A Kirin nuzzled her leg. Adagio pushed it away with her foot. “Beat it.”

The Kirin walked right back and bumped her with its nose. Adagio pushed it away again. It sat down, sending its frowning gaze right at her.

“Too bad, so sad, I’m not into animals,” she said airily.

The Kirin continued to stare.

“I’m not petting you,” Adagio snapped. “I’ll get gristle under my nails and I’m already a mess.”

The Kirin pawed gently at the ground, never looking away.

Adagio rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Find someone else to manipulate. I’m immune.”

The Kirin yawned, flicked its ears, and resumed staring.

Undergrowth rustled as a final Kirin emerged into the campsite, this one the size of a full-grown horse. It approached Applejack with the same studious frown as the rest, and bowed its head.

“Good evening, Miz Rain Shine,” Applejack said, as easily as she would to any neighbor. “Just making a night of it with some friends, don’t mind us. I’ll be setting up the tent as soon as… you know…”

She gestured helplessly to the Kirin in her lap, who was now snoozing contentedly. The large Kirin watched it carefully for a second, with no hint of emotion before turning smoothly to Sunset.

It found her gaze, and she grinned weakly. Expression or no, there was age and wisdom in those eyes – deep red pools with the weight of a mother’s love. She was reminded of Celestia for no reason she could discern, and silently promised to give her a call before bedding down for the night.

Rain Shine walked over, and knocked the Kirin on Sunset’s lap to the ground with a sweep of her head. She then began turning around while giving her backside a little wiggle.

“Whoa, hey! No!” Sunset tried to wave her off. “You are too big for lap privileges.” 

Rain Shine finished the turn, and slowly began descending to Sunset’s knees.

“No! Bad Kirin! Little help, Adagio?”

“Hm?” Adagio mumbled distractedly as she scratched a Kirin’s ears. “Sorry, I’m busy.”

Pressure turned to pain as Rain Shine began resting her rump on Sunset’s lap. She scrambled helplessly, but escape only came when the cheap camp chair fell apart under the weight. Sunset collapsed to the grass, and Rain Shine gave her a look of vague disappointment before wandering back and away, carefully stepping over Wallflower and her pile.
> The Sol Family Road Trip (slice-of-life, you know, for monster hunters)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

To be honest, Sunset didn’t know where her relationship with Applejack was going. It kept her awake some nights, thinking of how perfect Adagio and Applejack were for each other. The siren was passionate, romantic, and seductive, and the two of them had uuuuuuuh ‘complimentary sexual preferences.’ Sunset approached love as more of a ‘best friend you sometimes kiss and etcetera’ deal, favoring casual nights in and easy cuddling.

Like now – this was heaven, and it wasn’t even exclusive. The gang had cranked the air conditioning up so they could lounge in comfortable pajamas and sip hot chocolate, all while watching horror movies as an excuse to cuddle ever-closer. It was weirdly adorable to see big, strong Applejack glued to her seat in fear, clutching Wallflower like an oversized teddy-bear. Adagio feigned aloofness yet buried her face whenever things turned gruesome.

Wallflower was totally unaffected by the movie, but seemed happy to be involved.

Maybe a little too happy. “You can look, Adagio. The gory part’s over.”

It was not. Adagio swore deathly revenge while Wallflower snickered.

Sunset laughed, but it turned to a low groan when her phone began to buzz. She flipped it out, arching an eyebrow upon seeing Aunt Luna’s number displayed. Usually someone who texted instead.

Sunset reluctantly extricated herself from the cuddle-pile, stepped to the back of the living room, and answered. “Hi Lu–”

“Yeah I’m doing awesome kiddo, how are you!?” Luna yelled from her end over the sound of hammering on wood. “Gosh, you know what would be great? A family road trip to the sacred hot springs of Mount Canterhorn. Couple days’ drive, but that’s why we’ll go together! Make it fun. We leave tomorrow. You can leave tomorrow, right?”

Sunset answered mechanically as her brain fumbled a thousand questions. “I have classes. What’s going on?”

“Classes-schmasses, you can’t tell me you’ve never cut before! I’ll write a note saying you’re sick. Please, I tried this last time on my own and it killed me, I can’t do it agOW!”

A clattering noise came, as if the phone had dropped. Sunset was still trying to catch up when Celestia’s voice emerged. “Sunset, my love, my darling, how are you?”

Sunset breathed out with relief. “Hi, Mom. What’s up with Luna? She’s acting really weird.”

“Oh, she’s just jealous of the family bondage event I have planned for us!”

Adagio – with a siren’s supernatural hearing – snapped her head to watch Sunset from the couch.

Sunset groaned and faced away. “Don’t you mean family ‘bonding?’”

Celestia gave a loud, haughty laugh that sent chills down Sunset’s back. “Oh no, my darling! You shall be tied and disciplined like the naughty, sexy girl you are, and then I shall kiss your bruises and make themOW!”

“Back! Back!” Luna called from behind, and the phone tumbled again. Sunset waited in silence, the gears still spinning in her head. She turned idly, found Adagio now standing in arm’s reach and staring to Sunset with an eager grin.

Sunset waved her back and retired to her room, shutting the door as Luna reclaimed the phone. “Okay, look. Don’t be scared, but there was Moon Nazi technology, a magic mirror, and long story short the evil part of your mother’s heart is in control. This happened before and I took care of it by dunking her in the sacred hot springs a god-damn two-day drive eastwards. Back then she trashed every hotel room and ate so much candy your mom’s diabetes got her hospitalized on the way home. If I don’t get backup, my next plan is to travel with Celestia tied up in the trunk.”

“That’s not my name!” Celestia roared in the background. “I am Daybreaker, Queen of the New Sequence!”

Luna yelled back. “No you’re not! It’s just a phase.”

“It’s not a phase, you miserable minion! Now put my daughter-bride on the phone!”

“Please help,” Luna groaned. “The roads that way are shit so I’m waiting til morning, and could really use some help packing and prepping so I can babysit Tia.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Want me over there tonight?” Sunset asked.

“Yes. Grab some food, because I am not taking her to a restaurant again.”

“Got it. Later.” Sunset pocketed her phone and sped out the door, slamming into Adagio on the other side who quickly wrapped her into a hug.

“Sunset! My good friend, my best friend, who showed me the light of friendship! I accidentally heard the whole thing, and as your very good friend I volunteer my assistance in keeping Celestia…”

Adagio released a creepy, chuckling breath. “…Occupied.”

“That’s my mother,” Sunset grumbled. She tried to slide out of the embrace, but Adagio held firm. “Also, you have a girlfriend.”

“Well it’s not like she’s exclusive, Miss Cuddle Pony.” The siren took a step back, still gripping Sunset’s arms as she manically met her eyes. “She’ll understand. This is a dream. A fantasy made real!”

“My mother,” Sunset said again.

“Your mother. Is. Hot.” Adagio breathed. “And now she’s kinky. Just let me go with you, okay? You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this. Even back at the Band Battle when I had her hypnotized, I was ‘Damn, she’s fine, gonna make some major kissy-face after the concert,’ and not doing that when I had the chance is my biggest regret.”

Sunset arched an eyebrow. Adagio paused, then added, “Aside from trying to kill you and rejecting your offers of friendship and gold-digging AJ and losing my sisters and betraying you during the Tirek thing. Come on, please? This will count for both my birthday and Christmas!”

“I’m not helping you bed my mother while her morals are compromised,” Sunset pushed Adagio’s arms away. “Grow up. You’ll get Applejack for four days without competition.”

“But I like the competition,” Adagio purred. “You get her when she feels like cuddling a pony, I get her when she actually wants to have fun. Asymmetric balance, and may the best siren win. But this? This is an opportunity and if you are my friend you will give me a fair shot.”

Sunset gently bopped her on top of the head. “Bad siren, no gas-lighting. You’re not porking my mom, end of discussion.”

“Okay, fine,” Adagio said with seeming reluctance, then added eagerly, “Where are you guys going to spend the nights?”

“I’m leaving,” Sunset said. She turned back to her room and began gathering the essentials. Purse, jacket, concealed carry. She opened a backpack and jammed in a few toiletries and changes of clothes. Shopping could be done on the way.









Warned though Sunset was, it was a shock to see Celestia in her current state. Some diabolic influence was evident – her eyes were red instead of their typical soft pink, and her hair had turned a fiery mix of gold and orange. She leaped as Sunset came inside, hands groping for her chest, only to be yanked back at the collar by a lean, blue girl in a leather jacket.

“Hi, Ember,” Sunset said as Celestia cursed and wrestled. “You guys coming with?”

Ember nodded. “Yep. Dad’s got his tent and stuff, just in case.”

Celestia snapped at Ember’s arm. Sunset stepped around and helped pin her to the floor until the tantrum passed. “Hey, thanks for this. Luna was freaking out over the phone, and we all appreciate you helping out.”

“Whatever,” Ember said, which was Ember for ‘You’re welcome.’ “I hope you’re packing food; all Dad brought is ten pounds of beef jerky and we’re flat broke.”

“Oooh, somebody’s groping my butt,” Celestia cooed.

“That’s my knee,” Sunset said, then raised her voice. “Hi Luna, hi Torch! I brought apples.”

“Awesome. Here kids, I got her.” Torch’s hulking figure plodded to the kitchen. He scooped Celestia up like a surly cat, unable to suppress a smirk of his own. “Feeling naughty, babe?”

“Yeah, but it’s not evil if I do it with you.” Celestia squirmed, nearly toppling to the floor before he adjusted his grip. “If you must tie me up, tie me up with my daughter so we can–”

“No one’s tying you up,” Torch sighed, carrying her into the next room. “It’s late, come on.”

“Thanks, Torch,” Luna said wearily, entering the kitchen as he left. Heavy bags hung under her eyes, complimented by the odd bruise. “This will be fantastically more bearable with a crew, thank you all so much.”

Ember shrugged. “This’ll be cake. When you said she turned evil, I was thinking… you know. Black magic at worst, knife-fights at best. Instead she’s like one part pre-teen edge-lord and one part slut, and there’s nothing wrong with being a slut so that don’t even count.”

Luna drowsily scratched the back of her head. “Yeah, I got it explained to me last time. You’re kind of new to the club, but Sunset knows what I mean when I say Celestia is obnoxiously, irritatingly, sickeningly good. Sometimes it pisses me off how good she is, which makes me pissed at myself because I know she doesn’t deserve it. So for someone like that to have the evil in her heart run wild, it just doesn’t have all that much to work with.”

“So you gathered a full platoon to help babysit an adult brat for a few days.” Ember shrugged again. “Look, I’m in because I like you guys, but you’re overreacting. How hard can it be to keep one woman under control?”

Luna’s deadened eyes looked to her, at first without expression. Then her mouth broke into a rictus grin, and she laughed. She kept laughing as she turned and walked away, and they could hear it go on as she ascended the stairs to her room.









Celestia’s station wagon was the only vehicle between them big enough to carry all five. Luna drove, with Torch occupying the passenger seat to accommodate his massive size. Sunset, Ember, and Celestia sat on the bench-like back seat, with the latter demanding a spot at the window. The other two indifferently complied, and Celestia hopped out at the first red light and made it all the way to a bar before her chaperones caught up.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Celestia announced after they dragged her back. They had not even gotten out of Canterlot. 

“You went before we left,” Luna growled. “Think of something else.”

“All I can think about is the Mississippi River, Victoria Falls, large-sized lemonades, monsoon rains, free Diet Coke refills, that awkward few minutes during the previews in a movie when you know have time if you hustle, endless September drizzles, the waves on a beach, the…”

“Crud, now I have to go,” Sunset mumbled.









They caught Celestia trying to slip out the fast food joint they stopped at, but not before she bought a massive non-diet soda. Luna waited until they were out of the restaurant to slap it out of her hands.

And they had barely left Canterlot when Celestia began to sing.

“NINETY NINE BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL, NINETY NINE BOTTLES OF BEER, TAKE ONE DOWN, PASS IT AROUND, NINETY EIGHT BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL. NINETY EIGHT BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL, NINETY EIGHT BOTTLES OF BEER, TAKE ONE DOWN…”

Luna turned up the radio. A habitual jogger, Celestia’s lungs were more than a match.

Sunset’s left ear rang, right next to the screaming song. “I don’t know if I can keep this up for ten hours.”

“Chillax.” Ember slouched lazily in her seat. “The song only lasts for like ten minutes.”









“…TWO BOTTLES OF BEER, TAKE ONE DOWN, PASS IT AROUND, ONE BOTTLE OF BEER ON THE WALL. ONE BOTTLE OF BEER ON THE WALL, ONE BOTTLE OF BEER, TAKE ONE DOWN, PASS IT AROUND, NO BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL.”

Celestia lapsed into silence. Ember smiled, playing on some handheld game. Sunset gave a relieved sigh.

Celestia inhaled.

“NINETY NINE BOTTLES OF BEER ON THE WALL, NINETY NINE BOTTLES OF BEER, TAKE ONE DOWN…”









“I WANT MY BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK… RIBS. I WANT MY BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK… RIBS. I WANT MY BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK BABYBACK…”

Ember screamed; a wild, maddened noise, ending in a sharp inhale and deathly calm. “I’m killing your mother.”

She unbuckled and grabbed Celestia by the throat, earning a sharp knee for her troubles. Sunset leaned in to separate then while Torch reached back as best as he could. The brawl slammed into the front seats, buffeting Luna and steering them off the road.









Smoke came from where the car rested in a ditch. Torch assured them that such was a normal, good kind of smoke, and probably nothing to worry about.

Sunset silently watched him change their tire for a moment before she spoke. “Thanks for the help, Ember.”

“Screw you,” Ember growled. “How could you be so calm with all that noise?”

“I’m friends with Pinkie Pie.”

“No way she’s this bad.”

Sunset let out a repressed groan. “No, but she also never caused a crash. This is going to take even longer now.”

“Play nice, kids,” Torch mumbled distractedly.

As luck would have it, the crash occurred two hours east of Canterlot, right in the middle of the awkward rural parts of the state. Summer-swept plains stretched to all sides of the dirt road, without so much as a pay phone in sight. Good thing Torch knew his way around cars.

“I’m going to ask over there for help,” Celestia said. She pointed to a decrepit old house, covered in vines and with unseasonal, massive pumpkins growing in front and green glowing lights from the upper window.

Luna gave it a glance, then grunted and returned her attention to the car. “Tia, that is clearly a–”

“She’s already running,” Sunset said, and took off after her. Celestia bound between chest-tall pumpkins, heedless as their vines wiggled in her passing. She opened the door and was inside several seconds before Sunset.

Sunset arrived inside to find the walls completely covered in pumpkin vines. So was Celestia – bound like a spider’s fly and hanging from the ceiling. A creature with a jester’s outfit and jack-o-lantern head released a low, hollow laugh as it turned from her to Sunset.

“What is this, for Pumpkin Head? So strange that they come, for you know what the children sing. ‘Keep away from Pumpkin Head unless you’re tired of living; his enemies are mostly dead, he’s mean and unforgi–”

Sunset’s first bullet burst open its head, showering Celestia in pulped pumpkin. Sunset irately approached and tore open its jester outfit to find the body was made of sawdust, and had a black, pulsing heart within. Three bullets into this stopped its beating, and at once the pumpkins and vines began to wither.

Fortunately, they did not wither very fast. Sunset hoisted the still-bound Celestia on her shoulder and began walking to the car, not looking back as the house collapsed behind her.









“Are we there, yet?”

“No.”

“Are we there, yet?... Hey, hey, Luna! Luna. Luna.”

“What?”

“Are we there yet?... Hey, Luna? Luna. Luna. Luna. Luna. Luna. Luna. Luna. Sister. Sister. Little sister. Little sister with the inferiority complex, that’s you Luna. Can you hear me, Luna? Luna. Luna.”

Ember began screaming. Again. Sunset leaned forward, pouring every ounce of her old manipulative skills into a pitiable beg. “Aunt Luna, please can we call it early? Let’s just get to the nearest hotel. We can make up for lost time tomorrow.”

“No,” Luna said, her jaw set and eyes on the road. “That way lies madness.”









The last leg of the day was… quieter. When it hit Sunset to be suspicious instead of relieved, she looked over to find Celestia playing with Ember’s handheld game. Ember saw Sunset looking and gave a thumbs-up. Sunset grinned. Reconciliation came silent and welcome.

Still, while the awkward first day of Sunset’s redemption could never be topped, this had definitely been the second longest day of her life. The lumpy beds of their cheap motel were a godsend. All four collapsed to them with moans of exhaustion and relief.

Briefly unsupervised, Celestia knocked over the ceramic bedside lamp, plunging them all into darkness.









They assigned shifts. Even Torch couldn’t keep it up much longer. Dinner was an uncomfortably greasy pizza and the bag of fruit Applejack helpfully gave for the road. ‘Make sure you eat right, Sugar Cube. Too much fast food will knock you down sure as any monster.’

Sweet Celestia, that girl was the best. Strong, kind, thoughtful, friendly, strong…

Sunset floated belly-up in the motel’s pool. The water was a bit too chilly for comfort, but right now she didn’t care. Hours in the car and impromptu brawls left her feeling twisted and cramped. Echoes of obnoxious songs still rang in her ears. Silence and cold were a balm.

Luna said last time she made the trip alone. Sunset couldn’t even imagine. At least with four people they could take breaks, rotate Daybreaker-duty and get away for a bit.

Honestly… it felt good to be sharing the burden with her. After Luna and Celestia had given Sunset so much, she was finally doing something in return. Like family should. Not just a kid they feel sorry for or a sharp pupil, but a reliable, adult part of the herd.

“Room for two?”

The pool was empty aside from Sunset. She rotated weightlessly to an upright position, giving Torch a tired smile. “Yeah, of course.”

Water rolled gently as the huge man lowered himself in the shallow end. He sank into a seated sprawl, letting out a long, relieved sigh.

“How you holding up?” Sunset asked. She’d spent enough time with Fluttershy to know a lack of complaint didn’t mean a lack of opinion.

“I’m dead,” Torch confessed. He sank lower, submerging himself from the chin on down.

Sunset followed suit, letting the water climb up past her shoulders. “It was cool of you to come.”

“She’s my girl,” Torch said laconically. As if that explained everything.

Applejack flashed in Sunset’s mind, and she realized that it, in fact, did.

“You know what they say,” Torch added. “In sickness and in health, and all that.”

Sunset smirked a little. “They say that when you get married.”

“Yep,” Torch said tightly, but quickly pressed on. “Honestly, this ain’t so bad. You all are pulling your hair out trying to look after a ball of spite and bad judgement, but I raised a girl through puberty. This ain’t my first rodeo.”

“I guess.” Sunset paddled closer. The talk and cool water were doing wonders, and she had to resist the impulse to playfully splash him. “Real-talk for a second?”

“Sure.”

“You thinking of marrying my mom?”

Water drifted out as Torch shrugged. “Thinking, yeah. Nothing wrong with taking it slow.”

He coughed abruptly. “Hey, so you know, no matter how this goes you never have to call me ‘dad’ or nothing. I ain’t looking to take anyone’s place.”

Sunset shrugged and laughed. “I never had a dad, so go nuts.”

Torch looked at her, and Sunset wiggled her brows. “Not gonna lie, I think fishing’s boring and gross. But we could do other dad things. Play catch. Build pinewood derby cars.”

“Hm, you’re a little old for all that.” Torch rumbled, smiling back to her. “I could show you how to change your own oil.”

“Hell, yeah. Stuff like that.”

Torch gave a favorable grunt, though his smile strained. “But all joking aside, you’d be okay with it?”

“Of course,” Sunset said. She came up alongside him, resting an arm on the pool ledge. “I mean… she’s had it rough, you know? And through it all, all she’s done is stick her neck out for other people. Her sister. Her students. Some orphan delinquent. Even this whole jam is because she tries to protect literally everyone from Moon Nazis and so on. So for there to be something that actively brings her joy is the best thing ever. That’s you, dude.”

“Thanks, dude,” Torch said. He yawned. Back at the motel, a window broke, and they spent a few minutes longer pretending it wasn’t theirs.









Sheets awkwardly draped over the hole. Damage had already well-exceeded the cost of the room, and then it came Sunset’s turn for Daybreaker duty. She managed to snatch the lighter before the carpet was too badly singed, and the cat before it was sacrificed to the Great and Angry Sun. Lasted a decent seven minutes into Celestia screaming “THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE…” before tackling her to the ground with a wild scream of her own.

They had to sleep in shifts. Celestia was devious when removed of her inhibitions. She snuck out twice that night – once by feigning recovery while Torch watched her, the next by clever use of pillows and sheets to pretend her bed was occupied. They caught her the first time at a convenience store having only drunk half a bottle of Mountain Sugar. The next time she hit a bar and was through her fifth tequila by the time they caught up.

The good news was that Celestia had no stomach for alcohol. They began driving the next morning grumpy and bleary-eyed, but Celestia spent the first leg sleeping, and the next quietly groaning with her head on Sunset’s lap.

It proved a much easier day, even allowing that Celestia barfed in that position twice. With her spare pants ruined, Sunset awkwardly belted on Luna’s at their last stop before Mount Canterhorn. The road up it was a paved and regulated highway, small mercies, though Luna complained thoroughly at what came next – a sprawling, elite resort, encompassing the whole of the sacred springs. RichCorp owned the entire mountain.

The whole structure was huge and looming, rife with ever sellable commodity Sunset could imagine. Even the springs themselves had floating slot machines and drink bars. Sunset wondered if they were still sacred. Luna assured her such was beyond Man’s ability to destroy, thank goodness.

Only two beds per room, but they stuck with one. Gruffly, silently, Luna paid the bill with her credit card. She balled up the receipt and shoved it in the trash, but Sunset fished it out to check. Definitely no Hawaii for the sisters next year.

Sunset grunted, silently debating the merits of visiting Princess Twilight and just stealing something. Or asking for money. Mom wouldn’t approve either way if she found out. If.

Luna had experience with this next part. A disaster in the end-zone could ruin everything, but Daybreaker seemed to acknowledge her time was short and there was no better place to spend it than here. They made a deal – a professional massage, a steak dinner with dessert, and a stiff drink of choice. All vices Celestia avoided as a habit.

And a pool-boy, but Luna haggled that one down to three stiff drinks instead.

Sunset munched on jerky and apples while Luna took her sister out. No point in driving the bills up further. She did so just outside the resort restaurant’s emergency escape, awaiting the inevitable betrayal which strangely did not come. The impulsive gremlin that called itself Daybreaker strode out like a queen with Luna in tow, right towards the changing station.

Clad in a towel, she stepped with Luna to the edge of the springs. Perhaps Daybreaker had tired of its fun. Perhaps, even corrupted, Celestia would not break word with her sister.

Sunset watched them from behind, almost tearing up at this vague redemption. Ember stood next to her, wearing the towel and casually donning brass knuckles.

Then Daybreaker pushed Luna into the spring, with a laugh matched by Luna as the little sister spun and snagged her towel on the way down, dragging the elder in with her.
> The Most Dangerous Game (Fluttershy, monster-of-the-week)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fluttershy was what any expert of the subject would call a lycanthrope – a were-manatee to be specific. One who learned her former principal killed monsters like her several years ago, and while Sunset assured her Celestia only hunted ‘bad ones,’ Sunset also added a ‘probably’ at the end which ruined any relief Fluttershy might have enjoyed. She kept her secret private, and so did Sunset. Perhaps Celestia already knew, but it seemed a bad idea to bring it up. If she didn’t it could lead to screaming terror as the human chased her down, and if she did, Fluttershy would just be a bother. She didn’t like bothering people.

She sipped at her tea – actually it was red juice, but it was served with a tiny cup and plate so calling it otherwise seemed improper. Some blend of cinnamon and other spices rendered the hot drink downright delicious. Fluttershy finished it wish relish, then beamed at the other girl. “This is so good, thank you!”

They sat in an old ranch house, lit only by lamps despite the noonday sun. Tightly drawn curtains blocked the outside, which would have created a frightening atmosphere if not for the occupants. A small, winged snake dozed on a couch’s armrest, appearing comfortable despite the bandages around its middle. A fox as long as a horse lounged against one wall, nursing three of its young while warming them with its five tails.

The woman who served the tea was younger than Fluttershy, but looked a fair bit older. Pale skin, yellow eyes, and deep blue hair had always made Moonlight Raven seem vampire-like even back in high school.

Before she become one in fact as well as fashion. 

She was turned by a centuries-old vampire who, like an uncomfortable many of them, favored teenage girls. For all her natural sympathy, Fluttershy couldn’t bring herself to mourn his fate at the hands of Celestia’s group. It involved flamethrowers.

“There’s no blood in yours,” Moonlight said quickly. “I’ve found that adding a small amount to red drinks really helps. Like dieting, you know? Eat enough vegetables and you won’t feel hungry, even though you’re not actually taking in much.”

Her frown tightened. “I can’t keep using my sister. She said she’s cool, but… you know. A butcher said they’ll start selling me blood so maybe that’ll work.”

“It looks like you’re taking good steps to adapt,” Fluttershy said with a calming smile. “I’m proud of you.”

Moonlight grunted and looked away. “Whatever. Thanks for letting me stay here. I know my sister’s paying you but there’s no way that covers the bills.”

It was a dilapidated house that Fluttershy rented cheap, but Moonlight was definitely correct. The good news was that those and other donations let Fluttershy maintain the place with a guilty profit. A flock of talking magpies who wintered there left three diamond rings when they departed.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Fluttershy promised. “I’m going to pick up some tea from Tree Hugger – you’ve met her, the nice dryad? Then I’m going to the mall with Rarity. Do you need anything?”

“No. Thanks.” The words came out tightly. Moonlight was still adjusting, not quite at the point of being reconciled to her new life. Fluttershy understood. She quietly left without another word.









There were, she had come to understand, more things in Heaven and on Earth than were dreamed of in any one philosophy. She had also come to understand that many – most, she liked to think – wanted only to live in peace with humanity. After all, she was one of them.

Sunset would see things that way if Fluttershy ever talked about it. So would Celestia… probably. No need to test that part.

Fluttershy sank a little lower into the pool. The chores were done early, letting her relax at Rarity’s for the heat of the day. 

Time to go. Her and her brother were doing the cooking today, which naturally meant she would do it alone.

Maybe just another minute.

“Something on your mind?” Rarity asked. The purple-haired goddess was already getting dressed, pulling her summer clothes lazily over the swimsuit.

“Not really,” Fluttershy mumbled. Actually she was pondering the idea of turning her little refuge into a real job, but it wasn’t something she was quite ready to share.

A dog barked in the distance. Fluttershy smiled.

It barked again, closer. Rarity stared down the driveway, pursing her lips. “What in the world…?”

Leather soles clipped sharply on the pavement as the man advanced. He wore knee-high boots and a brown tunic that resembled a uniform, topped with a pith helmet and a gray moustache so long it merged with his sideburns. One arm casually held a huge, double-barreled rifle in its crook; the other, the leash of a large German Shepard.

Fluttershy quickly got out and began throwing on her clothes. Rarity stepped in front, not even trying to hide the venom in her voice. “Hello. This is my family’s back yard. Can I help you?”

“Steady, Churchill,” the man said, pulling once at the dog’s leash before giving Rarity a quick bow. “In fact, madam, it is I who can help you. I am Lord Henry Palmerstone, hunter extraordinaire. I have pursued blood-curdling supernatural monsters all across the globe, and I regret to inform you one such beast is very close indeed. I have tracked it to this area, and Churchill’s nose is never wrong.”

Unfortunately, the story was entirely believable. Fluttershy began dressing more quickly, while Rarity cast a nervous glance to the woods behind her house. “What… kind of monster?”

“The worst!” Palmerstone bellowed, drawing a frightened squeal from both girls. “A clever were-beast, lurking in human skin and ready to eat you up like a pile of crumpets.”

A low rumble marked Churchill’s growl. It stared directly at Fluttershy.

“Nice doggy,” she tried. Churchill barked again and pointed with its nose.

Palmerstone gave a joyous shout. “Ah, we have the scent! Tally-ho, wot-wot! Where is it, boy? Behind the yellow girl?”

“Sweet doggy,” Fluttershy cooed, holding up both her hands. “Good doggy. Handsome doggy.”

Churchill unleashed a flurry of barks, charging Fluttershy until jerked back with a tight snap of the leash. Palmerstone cursed as he wrangled it down. “What’s gotten into you, boy? You never attack humans! Only monsters.”

He blinked. Looked to Fluttershy. Fluttershy did her best to hide behind her bangs.

“Oh,” Palmerstone said. He adjusted the leash to hold the rifle in both hands. “That’s terribly convenient, if I do say so myself.”

White and purple flashed as Rarity interposed herself, her initial hostility swapped for a disarming smile. “Mister Palmerstone… wahah, beg pardon, ‘Lord’ Palmerstone. There is a huge misunderstanding. Fluttershy here is a lycanthrope, yes, but she’s as harmless as they come! She is a good and dear friend, and isn’t scaring or hurting anyone at all.”

“Sweet girl, she is a were-beast,” Palmerstone rumbled. Casually, he began fitting a giant bullet into his gun. “They can be the bishop of Canterbury during the day, then depopulate an orphanage when the moon turns.”

Rarity gave another little ‘wahah,’ desperately trying to wave him back. “No danger of that, darling. She’s a were-manatee. She only transforms on the full moon if submerged in water, and then only rampages for vegetables.”

“A were-manatee?” Palmerstone asked abruptly. “Like the fat sea-cows? Those manatees?”

“We’re not that fat,” Fluttershy mumbled.

Rarity bobbed her head. “Exactly! No threat at all.”

“Ha! I see. Excellent.” Palmerstone’s moustache bounced with his own excited nods. “Most excellent, indeed.”

Rarity and Fluttershy grinned hopefully.

“I don’t have one of those yet.” Palmerstone finished loading and slapped the gun shut with an audible crack. “I have the perfect place to mount it, right in my smoking room. Were-beasts transform after you kill them, you know.”

“She’s harmless, you murderer,” Rarity growled. Fluttershy discreetly stepped back.

“Murder? No, no, that’s only for people!” Palmerstone boomed jovially. “This is ‘hunting.’ I’ve hunted every natural beast this world has to offer, but even the most dangerous of them have become dull and boring to kill. I tried hunting people for a while, thinking it would be exciting…”

He paused to pinch the bridge of his nose. Fluttershy took another step back. “I was… so wrong. People are dumb. And it’s quite uncivilized to mount them as trophies, so what’s even the point? But monsters, now, there’s a fine adventure. Each is different and exciting. And they’re not human so the law declines to meddle.”

He brightened. “Actually, it would be quite cute to get a manatee stuffed. I have a niece who–”

Rarity’s purse flew into his face, followed by Rarity. “Fluttershy, run!”









Alas, it took no time at all for the larger man to throw Rarity off and chase his prey into the woods. Rarity wasted no time either, quickly retrieving her phone and dialing a number.

“Hello, this is Canterlot Police.”

“Darling, a crazed gunman is chasing my friend! She’s a were-manatee and he just wants to hunt her for sport.”

The voice on the other end grew strained. “A… were-something? Ma’am, we definitely can’t do anything about creatures that don’t exist.”

“Oh, forget about that,” Rarity pressed quickly. “Look, he calls himself a monster hunter, and he’s hunting her!”

“Hold on, let me check.” Papers obnoxiously shuffled in Rarity’s ear. “Nope, nothing against some adorable role-players pretending to hunt monsters. Sorry, but thanks for calling.”

“Are these really my tax dollars at work?” Rarity snarled.

The officer snapped back. “Look, lady: the last time I poked my nose in hunter business I got swallowed by a giant ant. We stay out of the way and pretend not to hear the gunshots, they make sure the city doesn’t wake up in literal Hell. Got supernatural problems, call a damn hunter.”

Rarity hung up in lieu of the last word. Fluttershy needed her. Fortunately, after the Tirek debacle Sunset had shared a collection of numbers with her friends.

A call to Celestia… no answer.

Miss Luna… same.

Miss Harshwhinny… “Hello?”

“Miss Harshwhinny, it’s Rarity. I don’t have time to explain, but there’s a hunter chasing Fluttershy and we need help.”

“Why would a hunter chase Fluttershy?”

Damn it. “She’s a were-beast, but that’s not important right now.”

“It assuredly is,” Harshwhinny said sternly. “Nighttime murders, rampages on the full moon. What have you idiot children been hiding from us?”

“She’s a manatee, you morons!” Rarity cried. “Completely harmless! And she needs help!”

Harshwhinny was unmoved. “I’m a hunter, not a vigilante. I don’t expect you to appreciate this, but us running around murdering humans would have tremendous legal consequences. If it’s a human causing the problem you should hang up and call the police.”

Rarity hung up, and screamed many, many words she would never say in public. She then dialed a new number, and spoke savagely when it was answered.

“Sunset Shimmer, you are leaving to save Fluttershy right this instant or we are no longer friends.”









Trees whipped past as Fluttershy ran. So did the odd bullet. An unending ‘eeeeeeee’ flew from her mouth, only audible to bats and, alas, dogs. 

The man didn’t try to keep up. He probably couldn’t run fast in those boots anyway. Fluttershy stumbled from the copse back into open suburbia. The ocean oddly stretched before her – Rarity’s part of town stood on a large hill, not far from the beach.

Her phone buzzed. Fluttershy snatched it up. “Meep!”

“Fluttershy, we’re heading to the bookstore on Hickory Street!” Sunset’s voice shouted over the hum of a car. “Keep moving! Are you close?”

“Very,” Fluttershy gasped. She sped forward, beaming breathlessly in the next few minutes as Wallflower’s parked van came into sight, right at the hill’s edge. Applejack and Sunset were already clambering out with pistols; Adagio, with her knife.

Sunset moved ahead to intercept the unseen pursuer, leaving Applejack to catch Fluttershy as she collapsed.

Adagio yawned. “Why am I here?”

“Because I ordered you,” Applejack said curtly. She kept one arm around Fluttershy, with head on a swivel. “Any sign, Sunset?”

“She’s looking the wrong way, wot-wot.”

Her head snapped up. Lord Palmerstone stood casually atop the bookstore’s awning, puffing steadily on a wooden pipe. He tossed a small glass bottle to their feet.

“You all wouldn’t last a day in the Himalayas, but I shouldn’t brag. You are just women.”

Instinct bid Applejack to hurl herself in front of Fluttershy, but it was in vain. The bottle broke and erupted, sending her into a coughing fit as yellow powder blasted to the air. She heard Sunset shout from a distance, then was knocked to the ground. Her arm slid off Fluttershy as the girl suddenly grew. Adagio’s silhouette squawked and writhed on the ground.

The dust settled. A manatee lounged in place of Fluttershy, its abrupt growth having been what slammed into Applejack. Adagio’s legs had fused into a mermaid-like tail, utterly unsuited to keeping her upright on land.

“The powder of Ibn-Ghazi,” Lord Palmerstone cheerfully announced. “It makes all things become what they truly are, and by Jove, we have two fish on the line! A siren’s tail would look smashing over my parlor door…”

Applejack launched herself into the awning’s supports, crumbling the cheap metal and staggering Palmerstone. “Y’all run!”

“How!?” Adagio shrieked.

“I dunno, just–”

Churchill tackled Applejack, snapping and biting and large enough to knock over even her. Palmerstone recovered his footing and snatched up his rifle.

“I can’t change back,” Fluttershy mewled. Her gray, whiskered face scrunched up in fear. “What do we do? We can barely move!”

“I don’t know,” Adagio snapped, clambering into something of an upright position before falling again. She frantically looked around. Her dagger was worthless. Sunset was sending a few quick shots Palmerstone’s way, but that only stalled things. He had the high ground, and any number of tricks up his sleeve. Applejack was being hard-pressed to save herself, let alone Adagio.

She pressed herself to Fluttershy’s side. Nothing else for it, so at least the manatee made for good cover.

Fluttershy rocked unexpectedly with the push. Strange. Adagio couldn’t shift the blubbery mass on a good day. She glanced down, and saw they were perched right at the cusp of the hill. Nothing to the right of them but a long, steep decline.

“I have an idea.”

Poor, innocent Fluttershy smiled. “Oh, good.”

Adagio shoved for all she was worth, then grinned as she felt momentum and gravity wed in Fluttershy’s bulk. She held tight as Fluttershy accelerated, sliding down the incline and screaming all the while.

The plan was to ride her all the way down, which regrettably found complication when Fluttershy began to roll.

Applejack managed to kick off Churchill, but not before Palmerstone slid from his perch and ducked into an alley. He smiled thinly – the game was assuredly in his favor. His nautical prey would make little headway once they reached the bottom of the hill, and onrushing police would keep their bodyguards busy. Gunfire, daylight, and upper-crust suburbia were an awkward combination. Barely anything left to do but collect his trophies and–

“Haf you heard? Haf you heard?”

A purple girl ran towards him, with a magenta streak in her hair and wearing a moustache.

Confused, he let her go on. “Ze most famous hunter in ze world is about to give ein lecture at ze Canterlot Library! Yes, ze famous monster hunter, um, um, Adolf Gesundheit! Yes, yes, he has hunted all ze monsters und everyone is zere to hear him talk about how he is ze best und most famous monster hunter in ze world, und also dot English men have small penises.”

Palmerstone’s moustache bristled. His monocle popped from his eye and swung down upon its chain.

Hunting was a question of patience. It could always wait. There was always another chance. But honour…

“Poppycock!” he roared.  Veins bulged from his neck. “Famous hunter, my foot! I have never even heard of this man, this charlatan, and soon no one else will either! Where is Canterlot Library, my good… um, person?”

“Dot vay!” The helpful stranger pointed, alas opposite of where the manatee fell. Damned luck. Palmerstone gave a sharp whistle, summoning Churchill to his side, and took off with as fast a strut as dignity allowed.









Sunset dodged the police. Less experienced in the matter, Applejack tried to explain. The minute she said ‘monster hunter,’ they put away their notebooks, commented loudly that it was funny how someone mistook a sputtering engine for gunfire, and drove away.

Fortunately, the transforming powder didn’t last long. The gang convened at a café, nervously watching the door and plotting their next move. Twilight had run off in the hopes of using some old-fashioned nepotism to get her police-lieutenant brother to do something.

“Little weird,” Sunset mused. “Think about all the times we’ve opened fire where someone could hear. This… veil? Collective denial? Sucks to be on the receiving end, but we do need it.”

Adagio opened her mouth, clearly with something less charitable to say. Fluttershy’s phone interrupted.

She glanced at its ID, then turned on the speaker. “Hi, Rarity.”

“Darling, whatever he tells you, don’t do it!”

“Enough of that, missy.” 

Rarity’s voice gave a gagged ‘Hmph!’ before a familiar male’s cut in. “Hello, future taxidermy projects. Top of the afternoon, wot-wot.”

“Are you really this much of a bastard?” Sunset growled. “Let her go this instant!”

Palmerstone chuckled. “She’s perfectly free! All she needs to do is untie herself from the buoy off Pier 17. Before the waves start getting rough, you know. The tide comes in, the buoy starts bobbing with poor Rarity attached… and good gracious, what if it capsizes? I had to hold my breath a good four minutes to survive a fight in the Amazon. Do you think she can match that?”

“Now will the police listen?” Applejack grumbled.

“I doubt you have time for that,” Palmerstone said coolly. “And if someone were to flip the buoy themselves, why, there wouldn’t be anything for them to see! Just an affable son of England, enjoying a spot of sherry and warm weather on his boat.”

Sunset curled her hands into fists. “What to you want, you maniac?”

Palmerstone took a long sip of something on the other end and smacked his lips. “Not a surrender. We’ll make this sporting. Come to the pier, quick as you like. I’ll explain the rest there.”

The line went dead. Fluttershy swallowed hard, and Sunset found herself a bit touched that Adagio reached over and squeezed her hand.

Applejack gave a grin that didn’t find her eyes. “No help for it, but soon there’ll be no helping him. He’ll be focused on you. Sunset and I will get him.”

“Only pistols. Short range.” Sunset mumbled. “Definitely no time to go home.”

“We have to move. Rarity saved me, and now she needs us.” Fluttershy swallowed again, but her eyes were dry. “I’ll… try to keep him busy. I trust you guys to come through.”

Adagio shrugged, then smiled. “Me too, I guess. On both counts.”

They left. Canterlot’s beaches were popular at this time of the year, but Pier 17 was a deserted, half-built wreck. Churchill sat chained to a bench, dozing in the sun. A lone sailboat bobbed off the pier, with Palmerstone sitting atop it. He lounged on a beach chair and sipped from a glass, with rifle ready and scantily-clad white form struggling on the buoy to his right.

Adagio raised her voice. “Why is she in her swimsuit?”

Palmerstone lifted a megaphone to reply. “So her clothes don’t get wet! I’m not uncivilized.”

Way too far for a pistol shot. Sunset grimaced, letting him carry on. “On the table to your fore, you will find a glass vial of the powder of Ibn-Ghazi. Smash it between you, then the siren and were-beast shall swim up and try to save the girl. You shall be hard targets in your natural environment; a fine challenge, and quite sporting of me if I do say so myself. Free her and bring her to shore, and you win! Our dangerous game shall continue tomorrow, but she will be saved. And if I shoot you first, well… you know. Risk, reward, and all.”

“Let’s do it,” Applejack growled lowly. “I can swim right for him. Reckon I’m fast as any of you.”

Adagio blew up a curl. “You reckon wrong. Plus, then it’d be you against that elephant gun.”

“Got a better idea?” Applejack asked. There was challenge in the words, but also hope. She sighed when silence followed.

They gathered around the vial. No one quite met each other’s eyes. Sunset cracked it without ceremony, letting the pressured dust engulf them all.

This was her first time being hit with it. A vague itchiness. A loud sneeze.

…And much, much more. She felt pressure at her forehead, hands, and feet, but the rest of her body became boneless putty. She toppled and caught the fall, yet her hands felt no pain. She tried to stand back up, felt it bizarre and unbalanced. Fell again, and was thoroughly comfortable to be on all  fours.

Her sharp mind took only two seconds to connect the dots. She wiggled her fingers, found they did not exist. Instead she felt a weight on her forehead, so nostalgic that it felt natural despite the long pass of years. It was hard and bony, yet strangely sensitive to thought and energy. A sixth sense of magic, brimming with power.

The dust settled. Adagio flopped awkwardly with her fish tail. Fluttershy moved to shuffle towards the water, but all stopped and stared at Sunset.

Palmerstone voiced his confusion into the megaphone. “What in the bloody hell?”

Sunset stepped out before her friends. Four round hooves clapped loudly on the concrete pier. A familiar blue-green flared around her form.

“What’s the matter,  dickwaffle? Never seen a unicorn?”

“I have, and I killed them,” Palmerstone replied. He shrugged and raised his gun. “And unicorns don’t have wings! But all’s well. You’ll look dandy in my billiards room.”

“Will I?” Sunset growled with a grin. She shot straight upwards, flapping her wings to get above the sailboat. One shot missed. Some strange, instant reflex kicked in at the second and her horn pulsed, deflecting the bullet.

Quick and calm, Palmerstone reloaded.

“No. Enough.” Blue-green glowed again, but it was quickly blocked by bright orange and white. A fireball, larger than the sailboat.

Sunset let it fly. “You’ve done enough.”

Palmerstone blinked at the approaching fireball. He straightened his back, then took off the pith helmet and held it over his heart. “God save the queen.”









Rarity majestically rode Fluttershy back to shore, although manatees were not very fast and it took a while. Sunset busied herself shepherding their way to the beach, seizing it as a desperate distraction. Because holy shit.

Holy shit.

Wings.

She had no idea why. How. When. Any of that. Except ‘what,’ of course. She was an alicorn.

Her breathing finally slowed. No, no she wasn’t. Maybe in Equestria, but here? Just Sunset Shimmer. No responsibilities beyond her friends and family. No need to think about something that wouldn’t affect her life once the powder wore off.

She gave herself an extra minute in the air once Fluttershy reached the beach. She saw her and Adagio change back, and Fluttershy begin petting Churchill.

Sunset landed. Very weird, looking at things  from a pony’s height. Applejack towered above her even more than usual.

“Be careful, sugar.”

“He’s a good boy,” Fluttershy promised. The dog began happily panting under her ear scritchies.

“I guess mankind is the real monster,” Adagio smirked. Even she seemed freakishly tall.

Sunset’s arrival broke up the talk. She approached the group, and they stared to her in abject shock.

“Come on, dudes,” she grumbled. “This was surprising, but it makes sense.  Except the alicorn thing, but come on, that doesn’t even mean anything to most of you. Give it a rest.”

“That ain’t it,” Applejack said dumbly. Fluttershy and Rarity covered their mouths with their hands.

Sunset groaned. “This better not be about me icing the guy, either. Let me tell you, I feel okay and so should you.”

“Not that, either,” Fluttershy breathed. A high-pitch squeal was building out of Rarity like a teapot.

“Then what!?” Sunset snapped. “What is…”

She trailed off as they stepped closer. Applejack wasn’t tall, she was huge. So were the rest.

Sunset looked down. She saw a half-crushed can in the sand. Nearly as wide as her hoof, and standing upright all the way past her fetlock.

Pressure came on her sides. Gently, tenderly, Applejack picked her up. She was small enough for the girl to almost wrap her hands around, like a good-sized cat.

Slowly, Fluttershy reached out and began scratching her ears. Rarity, her back. Applejack, her chin. All three girls wore looks of wide-eyed adoration.

“Are you kidding me?” Sunset snarled.

“Wook,” Rarity mumbled. “She’s so angwy.”

The girls cooed and continued their scratching. Sunset rolled her eyes, then closed them. “You know what, whatever. I’m turning back in ten seconds.”

She counted slowly to ten, trying to fight down the purr in her chest.

Then to twenty.

“She’s purring,” Applejack said sleepily. The girls awwwww’d their agreement.

One hundred. Two hundred.

She gave up at two-fifty. “WHY DOES THIS CRAP ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME!?”
> My Life as a College-Age Pony (Momlestia, Continuity)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Things were not better in the dorm room. The petitely-ponified Sunset sat in Applejack’s lap, quietly fuming as the endless petting failed to abate.

“Come on, guys,” she grumbled. “I can’t stay like this forever. One of you needs to call up Twilight. She’ll be able to figure out what implausible magi-science hoo-ha is doing this and how to fix it.”

“Sure thing,” Applejack said, scratching at Sunset’s tailbone.

“Absolutely,” Wallflower said, rubbing her ears. Rarity and Fluttershy busied themselves petting her back and side.

None of them moved to comply. Again. Sunset released a groan, earning awwwww’s of adoration. “I think some ambient magic is turning you all into morons.”

Adagio sprawled on the couch next to them, tapping on her phone. “Shut up, Sunset. If you hate it so much, why are you on her lap?”

“Bite me, it’s warm.” Sunset tucked in her legs, forming a teeny pony-loaf to a fresh round of awwww’s. “I don’t have much body mass so I’m not retaining any heat. I’m freezing in here.”

“I’ll get her a bwanket!” Fluttershy sped to Sunset’s room.

“You’re also purring,” Adagio noted.

“Everything purrs!” Sunset yelled. “It’s weird that humans don’t! Now shut up and call Twilight.”

“God, only you could bitch about being a super-powered space wizard getting stroked by hypnotized babes.”

Sunset forced her reply out through grit teeth as Fluttershy swaddled her gently with a blanket. “Adagio, I have class tomorrow. I can’t use my gun, I can’t use my phone, and I can’t make sweet love to my girlfriend.”

“Technically, you can still do that last–”

“Nope. Nope. Nope.” Sunset banished the resulting image from her mind. Rarity put a tiny fedora on her head, to a chorus of awwwww’s. “Adagio, your utter indifference is my only chance. Please call Twilight.”

Adagio peered at her from over the phone. “Just so we’re clear, I would actually kill to be in your shoes right now.”

Sunset took an angry bite of an apple slice Applejack held up for her. The girls awwww’d. “Then kindly call her, so we can remove this source of jealous friction from our usually-functional friendship.”

Adagio arched an eyebrow.

Sunset snapped. “What!? I’m hungry!”

“So gwumpy,” Wallflower said. She gave Sunset a big hug.

“Fine, fine,” Adagio sighed with put-upon exasperation. “But only because I like you, and not in a gay way or anything. You’re easy on the eyes, but you’re like a really righteous and nosy bottle of vanilla.”

“I love you too, Adagio,” Sunset snarked. Somehow, a smirk wormed onto both of their faces as Adagio tapped her phone, then held it to her ear.

Her expression froze as Twilight’s panicked jabber came in loud enough to be heard in the room. Thirty seconds later brought no sign of her slowing, and so Adagio cut in. “Whoa, whoa! Chill, Twilight, we got ‘em. Baddie dead, Sunset got away with murder… I’m fine too after someone tried to shoot me, real cool that everyone keeps asking.”

A pause. A slow smile. “Sunset didn’t text you about it? What a terrible friend.”

It was the last straw. Sunset hurled herself from Applejack’s lap with a bestial roar, which came out a bit higher-pitched and squeakier than she planned. A new set of awwww’s came as she landed hard on Adagio and lunged for the phone.









One explanation later, Sunset could well-imagine Twilight pushing up her glasses and smirking proudly. “It makes perfect sense.”

“Does it?” Sunset asked.

“Of course! Your natural form is that of a pony, so the powder turned you into one. From the limited information I’ve been able to gather, alicorns have much more intrinsic magic than unicorns, probably too much to be contained in a human body. If Star Swirl’s – um, that is Equestria’s Star Swirl – theories on mirror magic hold up, your body knows to stay in a form it can handle until it’s safe to transform into line with this world’s standards.”

“I still have so many questions.”

“And science has the answers!” Twilight said cheerfully.

“How do I turn back? Why didn’t this happen when the princesses came over? And why am I an alicorn!?”

“Oof. Science usually has the answer,” Twilight clarified. “Even my princess clone doesn’t know much about the whole alicorn thing. Some combination of genetics, magic aptitude, and rude violence in the defense of justice. Maybe you turned at the Band Battle five years ago, maybe when you beat Tirek. No one can answer that one.”

“Cool, thanks,” Sunset grumbled.

“As for the rest,” Twilight went on more confidently. “The princesses turned into humans when they came through the mirror. At that very instant they were no longer alicorns, so no absurd levels of magic for them to be biologically incapable of handling.”

Sunset sighed. “This is crazy.”

“I know! Isn’t science amazing?” Twilight squealed gleefully.

“How do I turn back?”

“Easy-peasy. Ponies draw in magic from their environment, and Earth has way less natural magic than Equestria. I think that’s why you came out tiny, too. Start casting spells until you expend enough magic to turn human again.”

“You could clean my room,” Adagio said unhelpfully.

“It’s so cute that she’s talking on the phone,” Fluttershy whispered, also unhelpfully.

Sunset ignored them. “I gotcha. Thanks, Twilight. I might be from over there, but you’re definitely our resident Equestria expert by now.”

Twilight chuckled bashfully at the praise. “Maybe not Equestria. But the magic side of things, definitely.”

Sunset hung up.

Adagio peered over. “Joking aside, you can get it done right now. Turn the couch into a potted plant or something. And if that don’t work, change it back and forth until it does.”

A safe idea. Sunset shook her head. “Nah, I… think I’ll do something else. Don’t wait up.”

Her horn glowed. Magic flashed, and Sunset disappeared from the dorm.









A knock sounded on the front door. Luna wasn’t expecting anyone, so she didn’t answer it.

The knocking went on for one minute, then two. Whoever it was wasn’t leaving without a fight. Luna paused her game, grumbling quietly as she approached the front door. She undid three locks and swung it back.

No one on the porch… strange. She looked left and right.

“Down here.”

Luna obliged.

Sunset grinned up bashfully. “Hi, Aunt Luna.”

Luna blinked. Then she shrugged, and held open the door. “Hey, Sunset. Want some coffee?”

A bit late for coffee, but neither of them were wonderfully responsible with such things. Sunset trotted inside, letting a relieved smile find her lips. “Yeah. I’ll take it black.”

Luna busied herself with the stove while Sunset levitated a few text books to boost her in a dining room chair. They chatted as the water boiled, then over their cups.

When the story was told, Luna gave a grimaced half-smile. “Little fucked with the cops and Harshwhinny… I don’t know what the right answer is. You start wacking humans and the cops get a lot less tolerant. I’d say next time to call them and leave out any mention of monsters, but hopefully there won’t be a next time.”

“At least they can’t pin a fireball on me in court,” Sunset said. She took a long, satisfied drink of her coffee. “But that’s all over with. I’m here to talk about my magic.”

Luna quietly raised an eyebrow as Sunset went on. “Magic can’t do everything, you know? At least, not working with what I got in my body. No perfect resurrections, no million dollars. I think I can turn something metal into really weaksauce gold and make us like a couple grand, but with a good amount of power and one chance to use it, I want to do something better. Permanent. And while humans don’t have a lot of magic, I think I can make a lasting enchantment for you and mom that your body fuels by itself.”

The eyebrow went higher.

“So what do you want? Stronger, faster? I can add a glamour to make you more commanding, or something to make you feel more confident.”

“‘Feel more confident?’” Luna laughed. “Holy shit, I’m not that pathetic.”

“…Anymore, anyway.” She waved down Sunset’s stammer, turning her head to grin at the setting sun in the window. “I’m… I’m fine, Sunset. I know how I was. Tia got me this job, got me in the business, got our house and did all the work for it.”

Luna chuckled and took a sip. “Ten fucking years later, I’m finally moving forward. Seeing you grow, seeing her branch out… it’s weird, I wasn’t jealous and I didn’t feel pressured, I was inspired. I’m going to go with her to Hawaii when that finally happens. I’m doing my share of the housework now. And I’m talking with her and actually doing lunches with Harshwhinny to learn how to lead a group of hunters. If Tia ends up having a kid she is absolutely retiring, and someone will have to take over.”

She nodded, more to herself than Sunset. “If you move home after college and she hooks with Torch, that’ll mean five people under one roof. We’d need to upsize, and I’ve already got it planned to buy a junk house with Torch and D.I.Y. the shit out of it. So yeah, I’m in a good spot. I… like who I am. Who I’m becoming. I don’t need magic to help me along.”

“Okay,” Sunset said. Her horn began glowing faintly. “Can I just do a quick thing with you? I promise it’s nothing crazy.”

“Just don’t mess with my brain patterns.”

“Deal.” Luna closed her eyes, and Sunset’s horn glowed brighter. Blue magic washed over Luna, then disappeared.

Sunset nodded deftly. “Done. You would’ve gotten colon cancer in thirty years, not anymore. And I fixed your stomach lining but you should probably wean down the coffee a bit.”

Luna paused with the cup halfway to her lips, then set it down. She turned a snarky smile on her niece. “Okay, I get the curing me thing, but how do you know all that?”

“It’s magic, I don’t have to explain shit.” Sunset shrugged and poked out her tongue. “Where’s Mom? I already know what to do for her.”

Luna gestured to the stairs. “Basement, putting together silver bullets. And hey, now it’s my turn to do something quick.”

She stood, and in one smooth motion scooped Sunset up and hugged her tightly. “You have no idea how hard it was to not do this from minute one. You’re so frickin’ cute.”

“Thanks, Aunt Luna.” Sunset favored her with a nose-nuzzle. She hopped down, approached the stairs, then took a long moment to appreciate just how huge they seemed in her current state.

Very slowly and carefully, she climbed down a step larger than she was. Then she remembered she had wings, and launched herself down with a slow glide.

Sunset didn’t visit the basement often while living here. She never thought much of hunting’s logistics in her teenage years, more interested in being a paladin for the school in-between her hangouts with the girls. Only this year had she realized how much work Mom put in so she could gallivant around blasting monsters. Bulk silver had to be purchased, melted, and molded, then placed carefully in brass casings with gunpowder. A process by hand, for every single bullet she ever shot. A tedious, precise labor, unfairly delegated to the most responsible hunters.

Folk songs twanged from an old cassette player on one of the high shelves. The basement was one large mix of workshop and storage, with silver bars stacked next to good china plates and ancient photo books. The bejeweled, crystalline war hammer that defeated Tirek leaned in one corner with webs stretched from shaft to wall. Work tables with half-assembled guns and carefully-packaged rockets ran along the walls, sectioned apart by shelves and the odd smelter.

Celestia sat at her work desk, facing away from Sunset and carefully measuring out doses of gunpowder for the shells. She wore a beat-up old Wondercolts sweater and hummed tunelessly with the music.

Sunset watched her for an extra moment. The long, slim hands worked with confidence born of endless repetition. The colors of her hair seemed a little less vibrant than when she brought Sunset home for the first time, though that may be just the basement’s light. Only three-odd years ago. A lifetime.

Sunset’s horn glowed, bringing a brighter blue than its norm.

Celestia did not notice at first. Her mind simply drifted to the memory of Sunset’s first night at the house. A fold-out bed, a maroon blanket, and an embarrassed good-night kiss after Sunset fell asleep. Then Sunset helped kill the vampire in the graveyard, allowed on the hunt only out of fear of her going off on her own. Sunset was scared, and Celestia was there to comfort her.

And Celestia… stayed. 

Celestia paused in her work as every memory flowed. Day by day, weeks and months, Sunset and Celestia. Sunset and Mom. It all came too quickly to be natural, yet was not uncomfortable at all. Like a deep and placid sea of memories. Most happy, some otherwise, each adding a small piece to the message rapidly forming in her heart.

Sunset’s power touched the tiny bit of magic that made Celestia, Celestia. They linked, mingled. And Celestia at last perfectly understood just how very much Sunset loved her.

Celestia placed a hand over her mouth. Tears flowed down her face.

Also… her diabetes was cured. Right now, that was almost an annoying distraction.

Sunset reached around and hugged her from behind, broadly enough to grasp Celestia’s shoulders with her hands.

“What was that?” Celestia asked in a daze.

“Just a little magic,” Sunset said. “Want to hear the story?”

Celestia glanced to the analog clock on her desk. “It’s getting late. Do you have time?”

“Yeah. I think I’ll spend the night.”

Celestia reached up and held Sunset’s arm. She swallowed heavily. “That makes me happy.”

They stayed there for a last few minutes, silently gripping each other until Celestia rose and they climbed the stairs together.
> Sunset’s mom has got it going on (slice-of-life, sexual-references-so-just-skip-it-if-you-don’t-like-those-kinda-things)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dorm room refrigerator was communal property, a full-sized blessing courtesy of a rare act of nepotism by Miss Celestia. It used to inhabit the Canterlot High faculty lounge until they got a new one, and this discreetly found its way to the dorm after hours of scrubbing to remove two decades of gross buildup.

Not that Adagio did any of the scrubbing.

Uncommon for college students, their fridge was packed with wholesome produce courtesy of Applejack. Also post-it notes, courtesy of Sunset.

“Wallflower, this is everyone’s juice, don’t drink it right from the carton.”

“Applejack, always remember that you are beautiful and loved!”

“Adagio, this is my pie, don’t eat it.”

The last note was on a small plastic container near the front. Adagio picked it up and found a second post-it on top.

“I MEAN IT, Adagio! Sugarcube Corner is about to stop making mint chocolate pies. If you rob this from me I am going to kill you!”

Adagio pried off the lid, revealing a perfect slice of mint green speckled with dark chocolate chips. She breathed in the crisp sweetness and grinned.

A few steps behind her, Applejack folded her arms. “Daj.”

Adagio didn’t look. “Grab me a spoon, will you?”

“Do the right thing, Daj.”

“Go splitsies with me,” Adagio purred. “That’s almost the right thing.”

“Put it back,” Applejack said.

Adagio turned, shamelessly displaying the container. “Come on, look at these notes! She’s practically daring me to take it.”

“No, she’s practically ready to kick your ass because you don’t respect her stuff. High time you cut it out.”

“And who’s gonna stop me?” Adagio let out a cruel chuckle. She waggled a finger at Applejack. “You? What are you going to do about it?”

A smile’s ghost played on Applejack’s lips, though her arms remained crossed. “No, you’re going to stop you. It’s the right thing, and I trust you do it.”

Adagio sneered, tilting her head to look down on Applejack. “Yes, but I can also eat it. And oh, look, you’re not going to do anything. You can say that you trust me all you like, but we both know I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger. You’re practically my minion, bound by lust to never go against me again.”

“That may be so,” Applejack said steadily. “But I’ll be real disappointed if you eat it.”

“You think your disappointment means anything to me?” Adagio thrust out a hip, smiling coyly.

“Yep.”

That almost-smile still twisted the corners of Applejack’s mouth. Her vivid green eyes held Adagio’s. Adagio stared back, unwilling to concede.

Ten seconds passed, and Adagio broke the gaze. She put the lid on the container and set it back in the fridge.

“That’s my girl,” Applejack said in a twang like warm butter.

Adagio gave an airy flick of her curls. “Whatever. You’re lucky I lov…”

She caught herself and cleared her throat. “You’re lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Love you too, babe.”

“Whatever.” Adagio pouted, drawing a snicker from Applejack. “But hey, listen. That package on the sofa? It just came in. A little something for us two, to spice things up in–”

A key ground into the hallway door, and with practiced motion Sunset forced it with a quick shove from her shoulder. “Hi, guys! I brought company. Thanks for coming, Mom.”

Applejack tensed and stood up a little straighter. Adagio shifted hips to her sexier one.

As tall as Applejack and far skinnier, Celestia glided into the dorm behind Sunset wearing a casual gray turtleneck and her iconic purple pants. She nodded to the girls – Applejack wiggled her fingers in a wave, while Adagio pretended not to see.

“Hello, Applejack,” Celestia said. With only a tiny bit of hesitation she added, “Adagio. Don’t mind me, I’m here for the sink.”

Adagio released a hard breath and beamed. “Oh, thank you. It’s straight-up bullshit: our pipes are leaking bad enough to go down into the next apartment. Dali Hall is going to bill us the damage if it keeps up, but we’ve called maintenance over and over for two months with no response.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Celestia gave a melodic laugh. “I’ve learned a thing or two keeping Canterlot High’s plumbing in order.”

That was her secret: she was perfectly beautiful, but also perfectly down-to-earth. The pair watched as Celestia approached the dining room sink. Her purple pants swished together above short white socks, exposing a sultry inch of her ankles.

She got on her knees and bent down low beneath the sink. Applejack gulped, flushing red as she watched the butt rise. Adagio just smirked.

Sunset stepped between them and Celestia, wearing a tight frown and glare.

“Really?” she mouthed.

Applejack clasped her hands in a praying motion and bowed her head, whispering, “Sorry.”

Adagio slunk past Sunset, only grinning wider as their gazes met. “Hey, Miss Celestia?”

The raised bottom of the purple pants waved as Celestia worked. “You’re not a student anymore. ‘Celestia’ is fine.”

“Thank you,” Adagio said, her voice the very model of a grateful junior. “I just wanted to ask something. We’re making plans to go to Endless Sun this winter. You know, the indoor water park? Just the Rainbooms and me and a few others having fun, going on water rides, in our swimsuits. We’d love it if you joined us.”

“Adagio…” Sunset growled.

“What’s wrong, Sunset?” Adagio asked. Her words were innocent – her face, anything but. “I was just inviting her, but if you don’t want your mother to come after all she’s done for you, I’d understand.”

“It’s not that,” Sunset said, then muttered “You manipulative harpy,” under her breath.

Celestia’s muffled voice came from out of sight. “I understand, too. Everyone needs to exercise their independence, and part of that is having unique circles of friends. There is nothing wrong with Sunset wanting to have fun away from her mother’s prying eyes. I appreciate the offer, but I must decline.”

Adagio’s gaze oozed from Sunset to Celestia’s rear, but her contrite voice never changed. “Got it, sorry… I just have this dream, you know? Of being able to make friends with everyone I ever wronged. Crazy fantasy, I know.”

“It’s a worthy dream,” Celestia said kindly. Her butt wiggled a little more with the work. “Don’t worry about it. There’s no wrong way to fantasize.”

Sunset slapped her forehead.

Adagio’s grin threatened to devour her face. “Gosh, thank you! Some of my friends have trouble with that. But you said it best…”

She silently thrust the air with her hips. “There’s no wrong way to fantasize.”

Sunset looked over to Applejack for support. Applejack wore an intense, guilty scowl and equally intense blush as she wrung her hat and stared to Celestia’s backside.

“Hey Celestia,” Adagio cooed. Sunset whipped back to find her standing quite close to the sink. “Sorry, but you have a big knot of lint on your pants. Can I get it for you?”

Celestia chuckled. “How embarrassing! Yes, please and thank you.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sunset mouthed, leveling the most deathly glare she could produce.

Adagio met it and never looked away as she reached down and plucked ever-so gently at Celestia’s butt.

“Got it!” she cheered, and blew the fictional lint away. Some combination of mercy and survival instinct bid her retreat at that point, leaving the kitchen to let Celestia do her thing.









“Thanks for fixing it, Mom,” Sunset cheered, already closing the door on her. “Just give me a minute to get myself together and I’ll be right down.”

The door closed. Her smile fell. “What the fuck!?”

“I’m so sorry.” Applejack bowed, almost in tears. “It’s those dang purple pants. Even back in high school they always seemed a little too small. All showing her ankles and hugging her butt. There’s no way she don’t know what she does to people.”

“It’s Celestia, of course she doesn’t know,” Sunset grumbled.

Applejack went on, not that Sunset asked. “I fell head over heels for her freshman year. You know me, when I crush on someone I crush hard and stupid. I can’t lie, I even used a computer and took a picture of her and–”

“Applejack, sometimes it’s okay to lie. It really is.”

Adagio lounged on the sofa with her back against a cardboard package, tapping on her phone. “Ease off, Sunset. There’s no wrong way to fantasize.”

“Okay. I can’t deal with this shit right now.” Sunset scooped up her jacket and pointedly turned away. “I’m going out to dinner with my dear, romantically unavailable mother and I will do you both the kindness of trying to forget this ever happened.”

She paused with the door open. “And Adagio, if you touch her butt again, I’m kicking yours.”

The door slammed behind her without waiting for a response. Applejack released a long breath of tension.

Adagio raised an eyebrow. “Life imitates art, I suppose.”

“What do you mean?”

The siren gave a wordless smile. She pulled a dagger from her sleeve and began cutting into the cardboard package. Applejack watched curiously as a hole formed to reveal… a smaller box.

Adagio rolled her eyes and began cutting into that one, finally deigning to explain. “Variety is the spice of life, and that applies to sex. Experimenting, role-play and so on are all important ways for people to test their comfort zones and blow each others’ minds.”

“So… get ready.”

Applejack was an easy tease, and already blushing. Adagio hunched over to retrieve something, blocking her view.

Then, with a high sweep of her flexible legs, Adagio righted herself. She faced away, yet held nothing.

The only change was a wig, covering Adagio’s orange curls with wavy lines of pink, blue, and green in copy of Celestia’s hair.

She spun, and the sole of her spiked, heeled boot stomped hard against the floor. A riding crop (which apparently she also kept in her sleeve) flicked into her hand, then slapped into her palm. “Miss Apple, you have been a very naughty student. Report to my office for special detention.”

Applejack blushed so hard her freckles seemed light instead of dark. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” Adagio reached back into the box and fished out a pair of tight purple pants. She waved them before Applejack’s eyes, smirking cruelly. “Now picture me wearing these, the wig…”

Applejack swallowed. Adagio went on in a husky whisper. “…And nothing else. Except, perhaps, a few strategic pieces of black tape.”

Applejack swept off her hat and twisted it in her hands. She had never quite found the courage to make a first move – it’s why the others were so great for her – and so remained rooted in place as Adagio drew closer, yet then stepped back with an impish laugh.

“Of course, if I’m going to be bringing your old dreams to life, I’ll need a little something back.”

“Anything,” Applejack breathed. Which, while not quite true, was the right thing to say.

Adagio pulled out two more things from the box and tossed them to her. Applejack caught them, stared to them. Snug purple pants, in her size. And another wig, exactly like Adagio’s.

Adagio doffed her wig and strut forwards, flicking the crop airily while lacing her words with honey. “You’re not the only one with high school fantasies, my dear, hypnotized principal. I’ll go on to take over the rest of the school soon enough, but first it’s time for me to put my sexy new slave through her paces.”

A weak giggle broke out from Applejack’s throat. She put on the wig; Adagio grinned and did the same. The big farmer stood nearly paralyzed, only able to lift her arms out to embrace as Adagio drew near.

They kissed each other, with Adagio standing on tip-toes to reach.

The door opened, and Sunset barreled in. “I forgot my keysFUCKING REALLY, YOU GUYS!?”









Dinner with her mom was pleasant. It was dark by the time Sunset made it back to the dorm.

She opened the fridge.

A clear plastic container with “Adagio” scribbled on it sat near the front. Sunset opened the lid to find a slice of red velvet cake inside.

“Hey, Sunset.”

She only turned her head enough to fix Applejack with a glare. The girl cringed downwards, smiling nervously with hands raised in meek surrender. “Maybe… maybe take the high road, this time?”

Sunset maintained eye contact as she picked the cake up with her fingers and crammed the whole thing into her mouth.

“Okay, yep, that’s fair.” Applejack chuckled hesitantly as Sunset chewed. “But, um, maybe call it even with Daj right there? And just take the rest of it out on me.”

Sunset stopped chewing. The glare softened to an intense stare.

“You can have my radish on the bottom shelf,” Applejack tried.

Sunset swallowed. Closed her eyes. Spoke calmly. “Applejack, I know this relationship is unconventional by human standards. And I approach it with different priorities than a human might, seeking friendship and affection over romance and sensuality. I appreciate your patience in this. It is clear that I need to take some new steps to…”

Her eyes opened, a brilliant green as they fixed upon Applejack. “Satisfy your needs. I can experiment. And you need punishment.”

Her hand snaked out and wrapped around Applejack’s wrist. Sunset pulled gently, and Applejack stepped closer. Her nervous grin morphed to a stupid one under Sunset’s manic gaze.

Sunset walked backwards. Applejack obediently followed, all the way into their room. The door closed.





The door opened. A multi-hued wig flew hard into the wall outside before their door slammed shut once more.
> Home Improvement (slice-of-life, you know, for monster hunters)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a Perfectly Ordinary Day in Ponyville™. This was always a good thing, but especially on re-shelving days. Princess Twilight practically danced among the books, checking and categorizing them across the entire castle library. Nothing could ruin her day – certainly not the tell-tale flash from a familiar magic mirror. Unexpected, but her human friends were always welcome.

Twilight wasn’t even annoyed at the interruption. She beamed at the newcomer, waiting patiently as Sunset Shimmer stumbled in on unfamiliar hooves, even flapping her wings now and then to keep balance.

...Wings.

“Sunset!” Twilight exclaimed. “You’re an alicorn!?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Sunset looked left and right, brushing past her in evident search for something. “Hi, Princess. Don’t mind me, I’m just… I’m just gonna...”

She trailed off, moving to the hallway. Twilight and Spike shared a confused glance before following.

“Are you looking for something?” Twilight tried.

“Like a crown?” Spike added. “Celestia’s gonna love this.”

“Not a crown,” Sunset mused. She poked her head into the library, frowned, and kept moving down the hall. “Nothing that big. Excuse me.”

She went on, looking around while mumbling ‘excuse me,’ and ‘I’m just...’ always trailing off before finishing the thought. Twilight and Spike walked behind, giving occasional questions to which they received no real answer.

“Hey, I hope I’m not being a bother,” Sunset finally said. “Where do you keep the… you know, the spare jewelry and stuff? The princessy trash you get from aristocrat wots-their-names and just kind of have to put somewhere?”

Twilight hesitated. “Um… next door on the left. What’s going on?”

“Cool, thanks.” Sunset nodded, then followed the directions to an unlocked walk-in closet filled with Twilight’s nicer things. Hats from Rarity and gifts from Canterlot were packed inside with earnestly less care than they deserved.

“Sunset, what…?”

“Wait, wait, excuse me...” Sunset made a beeline for one such gift, tossed carelessly upon a dresser: a golden bracelet set with a large sapphire, too large to be worn in any practical setting at all.

Sunset picked it up with her magic and turned to Twilight. “Hey, excuse me? Do you need this?”

Twilight shared another glance with Spike. “…No?”

“Cool, cool. Can I borrow it?”

“Um.” Twilight smiled weakly. “Sure thing, Sunset.”

“Doormat,” Spike whispered.

“Awesome. Thanks for letting me have this, I’ll get out of your hair. Sorry to bother you.” Sunset left the closet and walked past the pair on her way back to the mirror.

“You’re no bother at all!” Twilight sped to catch up.

Spike blinked. “Wait, what do you mean ‘have’ this? I thought you were borrowing it?”

“Actually, um, actually… I mean, I don’t want to bug you or anything.” Sunset mumbled a bit, still walking towards the mirror. “I’ll write you later, okay? Thanks a bunch, this is real big-dick friendship energy right here. Don’t mind the alicorn thing, I’ll fill you in later if it comes up. I’m trying to be cool about it so actually if you would please not tell anyone that’d be the greatest.”

She turned in front of the mirror, finally making eye contact and giving a smile. “You’re the best, Twilight.”

“Thank you!” Twilight closed her eyes and beamed. When she opened them, Sunset was already halfway through the mirror.









Back in the human world, Sunset slipped the bracelet into her purse. “I can’t believe that worked.”

She turned and bowed back towards the mirror. “Sorry, Twilight. I’ll make it up to you.”









Principal Celestia chewed quickly into her one slice of toast. No idyllic family breakfast this morning, there was a lot to do. “Luna, we should move. Can you wake up Sunset?”

“On it.” Luna stepped quickly around the tool chests and paint cans cluttering their living room. She pushed open a last door to find Sunset already dressed and vertical, doing morning stretches and tik-taking on her phone at the same time.

Luna gently stopped her with a touch. She then brought her hands up and smooshed Sunset’s cheeks, leaning down a bit to put them eye-to-eye. “Sunset Shimmer, the meaning of life is to live one’s own life. It’s so simple, so obvious, and we as a society just can’t figure it out.”

“What are you doing?” Sunset said as best she could with her cheeks smooshed.

“Celestia asked me to get you woke.”

“I’m up. I’m ready.” Sunset pulled away and threw on her jacket. “And I’m pumped! I haven’t even seen the place yet.”

Luna gave a wry smile. “I don’t know what you’re expecting. It’s a two-hundred thousand dollar house we got for fifty. It’s a train wreck. If we work at it all day today and Sunday, we’ll still have a long way to go.”

“Yeah, but when we’re done it’s going to be ours.”

Luna’s grin grew a little wicked. “Technically, co-owned by Celestia and Torch. But I fronted the cash-down for them, so get ready to pay rent, sucker.”

Sunset’s head bobbed. “Oh, sure. No problem.”

The grin fell. “Sunset, you know I’m joking. The reason we bought that clusterflop is so we’d have a place big enough to accommodate our weird double-family. You ain’t paying rent. Honestly, I wish it was closer to the university so we could ditch that shitty over-priced dorm.”

“I’m only there for another few years,” Sunset said. She froze a second, wondering what would become of her friendships and more once they graduated, then pulled herself hard back to the present. “Besides, we’ve already put hours and hours into it already, choosing everything from the floors to the porch design. It’s going to be ours, top to bottom. And my own little corner of the place is going to be mine. That’s worth a few weekends.”

“You say that now,” Luna chuckled. “‘A few weekends’ is a pretty generous guess. You’ll see.”









Boy howdy, Sunset saw.

It was a good-sized place, and relatively new. It had a full second floor, plus a master bedroom on the main. And it had not been maintained at all in the last thirty years – new drywall, paint, floors, and HVAC would render the place livable. Then they could turn to the steps, windows, driveway, bathrooms...

Torch and Ember met them there. They were pretty handy with such things, as was Celestia. Sunset wasn’t at all, but she had a secret weapon that had already begun trickling in. A small line of cars soon disgorged her six friends and more. Wallflower hopped out of Applejack’s truck, carrying her toolkit. Fluttershy brought one too, and the rest could at least follow instructions.

Celestia hadn’t known they were coming. It took her an extra few minutes to stop crying and thanking them. And then the rainbow-colored blur got to work: scrubbing, sweeping, prying, pasting, hammering, and painting.









One more arrived, who Sunset didn’t notice at first. She walked into what would one day be Luna’s bedroom to find Adagio at work scraping off the rotted floral wallpaper. Rubber gloves protected her precious nails, and her hair was tied back as best as it could into an exploding ponytail. She wore jeans and an old Neo-Dazzling T-shirt, both already stained from the messy job.

Sunset hesitated, watching long enough for Adagio to notice. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Sorry,” Sunset managed. She stepped into the room. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I was there when you asked the group.”

“Um… yeah. Yeah you were.” Sunset shuffled in place, then beamed to her. “Thanks for coming. It’s really cool of you.”

“Whatever.” Adagio turned back to her work. “Just don’t make me write a friendship report.”

Sunset gave a laugh. “You know, when someone thanks you for something nice that you’re doing, it’s okay to just stick with ‘you’re welcome.’”

Adagio grunted as her scraper hit a snag. “Not my style.”

“Yeah, I guess not.” Sunset laughed again, and gave her shoulder a friendly pat. “Thanks anyway. You’re a good friend.”

“Whatever.”

Adagio stayed turned, hard at work on the wall. Sunset stepped out, but took a stealthy last look inside and saw the smile on Adagio’s face.









“Two paint cans, Ember, looks like they’re light blue. Is it for your room?”

Ember looked up from her work in the now-hazardous living room and stepped gingerly over to where Celestia stood. She eyed the cans, then shook her head. “Must be for Luna’s. Mine are the black ones.”

“Got it.” Celestia hoisted them up. “I’ll leave these in the garage for now. Is your room ready for painting? I can get started with that.”

“We’re done cleaning and the floor’s fine, so yeah, I think so.”

Ember followed it with a smirk. “Would you have let Sunset paint her room black?”

“Sunset is twenty.”

“I mean if she was a kid.”

“Yes, of course,” Celestia said. She smiled a bit, perhaps imagining the scenario. “Choosing one’s own room color is a harmless and inexpensive means of expressing oneself. Children need to do so as much as adults. If Sunset wanted that, it is what she would get.”

“Man, if you were around when I was little, I would’ve gotten away with everything.” Ember grinned. 

It fell. They lacked furniture, so she sat down on the floor. “On the other hand, I… sorta did already. Being a single father didn’t leave Torch much time to watch me, and he was pretty hands-off when I was bad. I made a bunch of mistakes with school and stuff, wouldn’t be anyplace good right now without him. He even took me into the business, fixing and painting bikes. The last few years are the most time I ever spent with him, and they’ve been awesome.”

Celestia sat down next to her, leaving a comfortable distance between. “Thank you for sharing him.”

Ember shrugged. “Eh, you’re cool. You two do what makes you happy, just don’t throw me out.”

“Never,” Celestia promised. “So you know… I don’t know if we’ll get married. It’s been a year now and we like things the way they are, so we might not change it. But we might. And if that happens, you never need to call me anything other than Celestia.”

“I never had a mother.”

Ember scooched closer, filling the distance between them. “Honestly, I don’t need one. So thanks for being all… you, and stuff.”

“You’re welcome.” Celestia reached her arms around Ember.

“I don’t do hugs,” Ember said.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to hug me,” Celestia said as she hugged Ember. Ember made a show of glowering, hiding her grin as she discreetly leaned into it.









Torch was handy. Him, Fluttershy, and Celestia all knew of various odds and ends of home repair and maintenance, some of which Celestia learned keeping her school habitable in absence of proper funding. Put together, they felt pretty confident even with larger tasks like the floorboards.

Sunset and her friends… meant well. They were extra hands, making the work lighter and more fun. Even if Rarity had to be redirected from hanging up curtains and drapes, towards less fashionable tasks.

One of them, though, did more work than the rest put together.

Celestia approached to find her varnishing the master bedroom floor, having already fixed it. Applejack wore a yellow helmet with a flashlight on it, safety goggles, and overalls with every pocket stuffed with tools.

“Stay back, Miss Celestia, let’s let it settle.”

Applejack righted herself, standing back from the room. Celestia smiled indulgently. “Applejack, you can drop the ‘Miss.’”

“Sorry. Old habits die hard.” Applejack shrugged, grinning with the rush of a job well-done. “Nice new pad, or at least it will be. Big ol’ basement for your work, enough bedrooms upstairs for the kids and Luna to have their space and then some. You five will be real comfy when all’s done.”

“Six,” Celestia gently corrected, bobbing her head.

“Six?” Applejack began counting on her fingers. “You. Luna, Sunset, Torch, Ember...”

She glanced over to find Celestia stock-still, with wide eyes and a hand cupped over her mouth.

“Oops,” Celestia said.

Applejack’s smile spread across her face. “Miss Celestia, are you…?”

“Shush!” Celestia squeaked. She moved her hand over Applejack’s mouth, then back to her own, then down. “It’s… it’s a secret. It still is. Just me and Torch, for now. Very early, we’ll give it a little bit. Don’t tell anyone.”

“No worries, ma’am.” Applejack placed her left hand over her heart and raised her right. “Your secret’s safe with me, sure as sure.”

Celestia released a happy sigh, and wry smile. “Honest Applejack, keeping secrets? I hope I didn’t put you in a hard position.”

Applejack laughed. “Heck, there’s more to me than all that. Don’t you worry your pretty head, when needs-musts I can be as sneaky as a fox in a dog show.”









Sunset munched happily on the delivered pizza along with her friends. She turned to Applejack. “What do you think of the place?”

Applejack stood at attention, staring off into nothing and grinning widely enough to hurt. “I think the FIVE of you will be right happy here, yes sir, you FIVE are gonna have a real nice home when all’s said and done, all FIVE of you, FIVE being the total number of people who will be living at this house, being a number definitely less than SIX, which I have no knowledge of there being, and it’s more than four so mathematically there will be FIVE people living here unless there are any additions down the road but until then the correct number is FIVE.”

“What’s with her?” Rainbow whispered.

The others shrugged. Sunset snapped one finger and wolfed down the rest of her pizza. “Shoot, I was gonna check out the basement with Torch. Later, guys.”









The basement seemed huge, sitting hollow and empty. An illusion – once they moved in all the weapons and workbenches it wouldn’t end up much bigger than the old.

Sunset poked at a tiny hatchway. An old coal chute, or something. “How much do you guys have in your basement?”

“We live above the shop.” Torch bent town to scratch at the unfurnished floor. “Gonna be a change of pace to actually drive to work. It’s pretty promising that there’s no water damage here… and honestly, all the problems upstairs just came from long-time neglect and some unlucky pipes. I wonder why the place never sold before now.”

Sunset slid open the lock on the hatch. Strange, that it looked a bit more recent than the rest of the door. As soon as she did, gravity swung it open.

Fetid and familiar odors hit her all at once, making her skin crawl and her breath release in an aggrieved sigh. The chute appeared to tunnel out into the dirt and mud beyond the house, and a crowd of horrid, baby-sized creatures recoiled from the sudden light.

Covered in mud, with long ears and wide mouth, the closest drew a tiny knife and leered. “Hello, child.”

“Dude, I’m twenty,” Sunset said.

“Smooth skin. Small white teeth for us.” The others began tittering behind the first, creeping up with knives and claws. “Come play with us, child, we have such games for–”

Sunset slammed the hatch. “Yo, Torch! We got Tommyknockers!”

“Are you serious?”

Torch barreled from across the room, slamming into the hatch just as a mess of bodies charged it from the other side. Sheer mass let them push it open a few inches and begin jumping to the floor, to be promptly stomped by Torch’s boots.

Sunset drew her pistol and emptied her clip into the opening. The hatch slammed shut, and Sunset flipped the lock.

“This did not come up when we toured it with the realtor,” Torch snarled.

Sunset pointed to the metal hinges. “Let’s fuse it.”

“No,” Torch growled. “No-no-no, they’ll get through the walls eventually. The basement is the one place in this stupid house that’s intact. I am not losing it, and I am not having baby-stealing gremlin neighbors. Especially now!”

“What do you mean ‘now?’” Sunset asked.

Rusty hinges creaked as something slammed the hatch from the other side. A battering ram.

Torch planted himself against the metal barrier. “Let’s fix this quick. Go get my shotgun and C-4 from the car. And don’t tell your mother! This is supposed to be her fun, build-the-dream-home kinda day, let’s just take care of it and move on.”

“Got it!” Sunset took off at a dash. She passed her startled friends, retrieved the gear from Torch’s car, and sped back past them with arms filled with guns and explosives.

“Sunset, can we help you with anything?” Rarity asked.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Sunset was already descending the stairs. “Save me a slice.”









A long workday. An expensive day, fueled by Luna – the only one of them with any kind of savings – and enough bank loans to put Celestia and Torch in the hole for years. But now there were painted rooms and replaced floors, letting them at least begin the process of moving in. Next weekend they’d look at the front steps and back porch, then the garage. 

Added to the cost was twelve orders of not-inexpensive sushi, but it was the least Celestia could do for all who helped. After a pizza lunch, she couldn’t quite bring herself to default to burgers for dinner.

She watched pensively as Twilight fiddled with a dangerous-looking contraption, complete with blue lightning bouncing between metal knobs. The girl stared at the incomprehensible readings, then pushed her glasses up and smirked.

“No dark magic, no more Tommyknockers. And my seismographer showed we got all the tunnels… sorry about the yard, though.”

How much did landscapers charge to turn a yard from a mine-blasted hellscape into something reasonable? Celestia closed her eyes, willing the smile to remain. After all, unforeseen costs were a quite natural part of the process.

Torch, sweet Torch, had tried to hide it. As if the gunshots and explosions could have been written off as just another part of the move.

“Thank you, Twilight,” Celestia said. Rainbooms crouched on stairs or sprawled across the bare floors, eating in silence. Everyone was tired.

Still, Sunset gave a nervous grin. Enough to get Celestia’s attention even before the girl cleared her throat.

“You know what? This might be a blessing in disguise.” Sunset coughed a little and produced a gold circle set with a large blue gem. “Look what tumbled out in the basement when we blew the tunnels! Must be from one of their old victims. This should help with the bills, right?”

Celestia accepted the offered jewelry and turned it over in her hands, marveling at the craftsmanship. The proportions were odd, though – too large for a bracelet, too small for a crown. Certainly, very valuable.

She smiled, yet shook her head. “Sunset, this could be someone’s heirloom. We need to turn it over to the police.”

Sunset deflated visibly. It was of course lovely of her to want to help with the finances, but such was something a girl her age shouldn’t worry about. Besides, Celestia knew this was the right thing to do.

Luna held out her hand. “Hey, I gotta run to the pharmacy real quick before it closes. Give it here, I’ll stop at the police station on my way so you can go right home.”

“Thank you.” Celestia passed off the piece, letting a deep sigh pass her lips. Tired, but tired from a lot of good work. She settled her back to the wall and smiled, staring off into space and missing the broad wink that passed between Luna and Sunset.
> The Bakery of Doom (monster-of-the-week)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a perfectly ordinary day in Canterlot, except for the medieval tower of black stone and parapets jutting into the stormy sky. Red lights glowed from its windows, and at its top a pink woman hovered above the roof. Her curly hair waved with unspent electricity, and her head reared back in manic laughter. A black amulet clasped around her neck, decorated with a red gem, wings, and a unicorn head with red eyes.

“SURRENDER TO ME, CANTERLOT! I HAVE YOUR YOUR HEROES, AND SOON I SHALL HAVE IT ALL! FOR NONE CAN STAND AGAINST ME, PINKIE PIE, AND MY BAKERY OF DOOM!”

Brown rain pelted Twilight Sparkle’s umbrella. She held a mug out as the monologue went on, then brought it in to take a sip. She set it on the sidewalk and began digging in her purse.

Spike sniffed at the mug, but Twilight nudged him with her foot. “Don’t. It’s chocolate, you’ll barf it all out.”

She pulled out her P.K.E. meter, smiling as unwired electricity began bouncing between its prongs. “Wow, even at this distance it’s a seven-point-five. Definitely magic involved, here.”

Spike hesitated, his nose still above the mug. “You… needed some gadget to tell you that?”

“It’s good to measure, Spike. Trixie’s stage magic looks real, should we just believe it?”

“It’s a ten-story fortress, Twilight.” Spike began tugging gently on his leash, towards the base of the structure. Strangely, the decorated exterior of Sugarcube Corner looked as normal as ever, none the worse for the added medieval tower on its roof. “Come on, it looks like they’re still open. I want my whipped cream cup.”

Twilight stumbled, trying to resist the leash’s pull, put away the device, and balance the umbrella with only two hands. “No! It might not be safe.”

“I see Mr. Cake at the counter.”

“No!” Twilight gripped the umbrella in the crook of her arm to pull out her phone. “I need to contact the girls.”

She shot off a text, then raised her phone to take pictures. Others did so as well, gossiping cheerfully about the shop’s new publicity stunt.

“That amulet is definitely the source...”

“Anything back from the others?” Spike asked.

“No,” Twilight sighed, lowering the phone.

“Um...” Spike hissed in, wincing as he spoke. “You heard what she said about heroes?”

“Yeah. I texted both the other Rainbooms and the hunters, too.” Twilight put away the phone and pulled out an antique-looking journal. “I’ll write my pony self with a description, maybe this amulet has some equivalent on her side.”









True, the two Twilights had only met once or twice. But on the last meeting the princess had gifted her twin a two-way magic journal, and secrets of the universe had been unlocked by the collaboration therein.

Not all the secrets, mind. Even the obvious question of the mirror-worlds evaded them. But it was no stretch to say human-Twilight knew more about Equestria than most Equestrians, and the same went for her twin.

Princess Twilight had her own job and responsibilities. It was a bit of a shock that her only response to Twilight’s query was a terse command to meet by the portal. She was there by the time Twilight arrived, and they ducked into the halls for a quick discussion.

The Alicorn Amulet. How in Celestia’s name Earth had one the princess had no idea, but it was the worst kind of news. Accessible to anyone, as empowering to magic as it was dampening to morality and good sense. If Pinkie had it, they needed to get it back. Now.

Alas, the chocolate rain was coming down harder than ever. Rather than trudge through it, Twilight called her brother for a ride.

“Hi, Shining! Can you drive me and my trans-dimensional clone to Surgarcube Corner to remove an apocalyptic eldritch relic possessing my friend so we can safely study it maybe twenty meters from where you sleep?”

Twilight hacked into the controls of a UFO secretly observing Earth and took the family on a joyride when she was twelve. Shining Armor’s life had only gotten stranger since then.

“Sure thing, Twily.”

“Oh, he sounds so supportive!” Princess Twilight gushed.

“He is!” Twilight squealed. “My B.B.B.F.F. I’m so happy he’s still living with me.”

“I wish mine was,” Princess Twilight said.

“Aren’t you a princess? Can’t you just make him?”

Princess Twilight opened her mouth, but lapsed into thoughtful silence until Shining Armor arrived in his car. The twins found themselves obligated to take the back seats – the passenger side was occupied.

“Hi, big brother!” Twilight said, her words almost glowing with cheer.

Her expression flattened immediately. “Hello, Starlight.”

The girl reclined next to Shining in her dumb hipster vest and beanie. “Yo.”

“Starlight Glimmer?” Princess Twilight asked curiously.

“Hi girls,” Shining Armor said as casually as he could given the cosmic revelation. “I’m taking Starlight to her book club right after I drop you off. Play nice.”

“I’m always nice,” Twilight grumbled, then leaned over to her clone. “Che Dipshit here broke half the windows in the Queen Chrysalis tobacco factory and tried to incite a mob to burn it down. They let her do parole with us and my parents are doormats who let her stick around. She’s also my cousin.”

The princess blinked. “Weird. My Starlight isn’t mine.”

“I bet she doesn’t freeload at your house, either.”

Princess Twilight fell into another thoughtful silence at that, and Shining Armor retreated to his mental happy place.

“I can hear you, Miss Always Nice” Starlight called.

Twilight adopted an overly sweet tone of voice. “So, what book club are you visiting? Another meeting devoted to a debunked economic system that routinely fails its one promise of economic security along with every other measure of a successful state, founded by a bourgeois German who was buried in a private cemetery that charges people to visit?”

“You know it, rich girl,” Starlight sneered.

“I don’t see you protesting when you’re hanging out in our pool, freeloader.”

“Weird weather we’re having,” Shining Armor said amicably.

“Relax, it’s only until my Paytreon takes off.”

Twilight held her nose. “It’s only until my Paytreon takes off.”

Starlight turned sideways in her seat to look back. “Listen, brat. Not everyone got everything handed to them from day one. You have no idea what it means to work for a living.”

“Woman, I cured space cancer in a 40-hour frenzy of science without food or sleep.”

“In the lab mommy and daddy bought for you.”

“I SAVED ELEVEN THOUSAND PEOPLE YOU IDIOT! I PERSONALLY got a call from the U.N. secretary general apologizing that he couldn’t reward me publicly because, quote him, ‘aliens don’t exist.’”

“Shining Armor?” the pony in human form said, smiling kindly to their driver. “I’m Princess Twilight Sparkle. I’m from an alternate universe where everyone is a pony. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Twily.”

Princess Twilight squealed silently.

Twilight shot her a glare. “You have your own.”

“And here we are!” Shining pulled into the bakery parking lot so Twilight wouldn’t have to walk far. “Just give me a call when you’re done, Twily.”

“Sure thing, B.B.B.F.F.” they said in stereo, climbing out of the car. “Bye-bye!”

Princess Twilight only glanced up at the dark tower, with lightning flashing around it. Honestly, her own castle was more intimidating. She pushed open the door to Sugarcube Corner, earning the merry chime of a bell. The place was empty save for Mr. Cake at the counter, grinning weakly as his eyes darted around.

“Welcome to… eh-heh… The Bakery of Doom.”

“What’s going on?” Twilight demanded. “We’re here to help.”

“Thank goodness.” The tweedy baker sat down hard.

Princess Twilight began. “How did Pinkie get the Alicorn Amulet? The black necklace?”

Mr. Cake put his head in his hands. “We catered for an archaeology convention last week. They were supposed to split the cost among themselves, but one said he was short and offered this necklace instead.”

“Who was it?” Princess Twilight asked. “That’s strange. Did they just never put it on?”

Mr. Cake shrugged. “I don’t know. He said his name was Discord.”

Both Twilights hissed in a breath.

“So… yeah.” The baker waved a hand to the ‘staff only’ door behind him. “Pinkie has all your friends captured at the top of her seven-layer Bakery of Doom. This fortunately counts as the first layer, but going up she said would be a strenuous test of physical fitness and dexterity, so only the mightiest heroes could reach her at the top.”

Twilight shifted uncomfortably. The princess gave a weak cough and looked away.

Twilight squinted. “Wait, if she kidnapped all the Rainbooms and hunters, why did she skip me?”

Mr. Cake shrugged again. “She said she went for all the heroes, and that you were more of a support character.”

Twilight glowered, causing him to go on frantically. “B-but do you think it might be Pinkie wanting to give you a chance? Maybe her goodness is trying to show itself, by making sure someone is around to stop her.”

“Physical fitness,” Princess Twilight sighed. She did a quick, preparatory stretch and something cracked painfully. “Twilight, do you have any other friends you can call? Any at all?”

Twilight shook her head. “Everyone either didn’t answer the text or would go la-la-magic-isn’t-real and run away. It’s that ‘veil effect’ I told you about.”

They equipped themselves, one with a roller and the princess with a frying pan. They opened the upstairs door to find a curving stone staircase, and began the long ascent. 

On the second layer, they were greeted by a horde of animate pastries with mouths, legs, and angry eyes. They leaped for the Twilights, and were beaten down with stomping shoes and swung weapons.

The brief battle sent Princess Twilight to her knees panting, though she cast up a smile. “We… make a good team.”

“How are you even more out of shape than I am?” Twilight asked.

“Maybe because I’m not as used to the body?”

“Ooh, good point!”

They both produced pocket notebooks and jotted down a few tidbits.

“I did the math,” Twilight added. “We climbed at least five stories to get here. This tower is much bigger on the inside.”

Princess Twilight slowly got to her feet. “Five times seven layers… with five more battles interspersed? This is going to be rough.”

Twilight adjusted her glasses, letting the glare hide her eyes. “No. I arranged my schedule to avoid all possible physical education, I make up excuses for every Rainboom bike hike, and when my mom tells me to go outside I just hide in my lab for a few hours. I put a lot of effort into avoiding exercise, I’m not going to let some evil amulet force me into it.”

She pushed a button on her watch. A chrome-shined device folded out of her backpack, bracing her shoulders with a tube at its bottom.

Princess Twilight knew what it was. After all, she helped invent it. “You’re going to jetpack up the stairs?”

“No.” 

Twilight raised a chrome, needle-nosed pistol above her head and pulled the trigger. A circle of blue energy shot out, blasting open the ceiling to the next floor.

She only had one jetpack, and gave an apologetic shrug. “Sorry Princess, I think you just need to wait. Maybe you can take the necklace when we’re done and store it along with the Alicorn Amulet from your world?”

“I see no way that can backfire.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

Twilight lifted off, up and away. Snakes made of licorice, giant chocolate bunnies, and gingerbread conscripts were all a bit less intimidating when handled with lightning guns and disintegration rays. She fought past the remaining floors easily before jetting through one more hole to the final chamber.

Pinkie was there – in a flowing pink dress, wearing a crown like spiraling ice cream. She floated above the others, all bound in gum or licorice.

Twilight landed at the smoking edge of her last hole. “You okay, Sunset?”

“Just riding this one out,” the bound Sunset confessed.

“I WOULD NEVER HURT MY FRIENDS, SILLY-BILLY,” Pinkie said with a volume uncomfortable at this close range, and a smile as wide as her face. “We’re gonna have SO MUCH fun together, and NOBODY’S going to stop us. We’ll have a party big enough to cover the entire city! No, the entire world! No, the entire solar system! No, the entire galaxy! No, the entire–”

Twilight calmly sent her energy pistol to ‘stun’ and aimed.

Pinkie struck first, extending both hands to fire an impossible spray of candy, absorbing the shot and quickly burying Twilight up to her neck.

“Where was I? Right: No, the entire universe! No, the universe and all parallel universes!”

Pinkie gasped, and her eyes lit up. “We could bring the party to Equestria! Sure, all your pony clones would try to stop me, but once my PARTY OF DOOM engulfs their world they won’t want to leave! Which is great, because they won’t be able to!”

A loud and dramatic voice came from the stairs. “Sorry, Pinkie. One of you in Equestria is enough for us!”

Princess Twilight strode gallantly into sight, hair billowing in the nonexistent wind.

She fell to her knees, panting. Her hair was not billowing, but locked in place by a mess of syrup, gum, and other sticky candies.

She held up a finger, heaving in breaths.

“Thirty-five stories… through the blasted candy genocide Twilight left behind...”

“I told you to stay back,” Twilight said.

“I’m never gonna… stay back… when my friends are… in… danger…”

Princess Twilight collapsed to the floor. “Give me a minute.”

Pinkie waited patiently for that minute and two more before Princess Twilight got to her feet. “Alright. Thank you.”

She twirled and posed, pointing dramatically at Pinkie Pie. “Let’s play a game!”

The human Twilight blinked in confusion. Pinkie squealed with delight. “I love games! What are we playing? Super Smash Pillars? Pin the tail on the pony? Arkham Horror? Spin the bottle? Baseball?”

“Truth or dare!” Princess Twilight announced. “And I call first go.”

Pinkie bounced excitedly in the air. “Ooh-ooh, yes, truth or dare, great idea! Go-go, who are you choosing first?”

“Pinkie Pie!” Princess Twilight declared. Pinkie grinned and literally bounced with anticipation. “Truth, or dare?”

“Dare! Dare, dare, dare! Dare me!”

“Take off the amulet and toss it to the ground.”

Pinkie did so.

Then blinked.

“Oh,” she said. Then she fainted and fell, but luckily there was a literal bed of taffy beneath her.

Princess Twilight picked up a serving spoon and began digging out her twin. “Do you have some kind of evidence bag or specimen container on you for the amulet? I didn’t appear with any.”

Twilight bobbed her head. “Yeah. Good save, Princess. How’d you know she would bite?”

“Dimensional Paradox number three-thousand eighty-two, I suppose.” Princess Twilight took her twin’s exposed hand and hauled her upright. “Unique among absolutely everything else, our Pinkie Pies are a near-perfect match. And I know Pinkie Pie.”

Twilight stood, a thoughtful expression on her face. She reached into a labcoat pocket filled with Skittles and fished out her notebook. “Huh. Could she be the theorized Fixed Point – the one constant across all universes?”

She began writing, her look of wonder replaced by manic glee. “Oh! Or maybe all Pinkies are the same being! This requires study, experimentation...”

Smoothly, Princess Twilight plucked the notebook from her grasp. She handed off the spoon, and motioned for Twilight to begin digging out the others.

The princess laid a hand on her twin’s shoulder. Her expression was serious, her voice calm. “Much data could be learned by touching the sun. The wise pony, regardless, does not try.”

She turned, produced her frying pan, and began trying to pry the gum-bound Fluttershy from the wall.
> Rude Inconvenience (Monster-of-the-Week) (Guest Chapter by Night-Quill)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

For a while now, a certain distress had been gnawing persistently at the back of Sunset’s thoughts: The realization that life would change once her time in college was over, and it would be drastic; that she and her friends might someday have to part ways into the great, wide world.

It felt like an eternity since she stole into the human dimension with nefarious intent, to be both undone and saved by these girls so wonderful, she had honest-to-Celestia trouble even describing how much. The truth of the matter was that Applejack, Rainbow, Rarity, Fluttershy, Pinkie and Twilight... they were beyond a doubt her first foray into learning what it was to be part of a whole; to be a family.

Who knew: Maybe by some deterministic interdimensional jest the lot would end up somehow inseparable? Not an unfounded notion really; given how tight-knit Princess Twilight and her friends were. Maybe such unique circumstance behind their friendship would cement them from being parted?

Or genuine anxiety was beginning to set in. Always a possibility.

This made their days spent together all the more precious. Whenever it was possible in her schedule between studies, jobs, and her duties as a hunter, Sunset took time from her life to be with her first friends. Even more so on days such as this where the original seven could just enjoy spending time together. Not that Adagio or Wallflower weren’t invited; both of them had their own agendas for the day.

It was just a trip to the Canterlot Mall, a place where many fond memories were accrued, followed by an evening dinner together. Sushi, since Sunset got a lifetime discount as both a former employee and after helping deal with that wererat (or R.O.U.S. when Fluttershy was around) infestation with Mom.

“So, how’s business been?” asked Rainbow, arms laxly behind her head as all seven walked in a sideward line to the exit. A notion Pinkie pointed out as very cinematic.

“Pretty good,” said Sunset in earnest. “All-in-all the artist’s career is perfect. Honestly, I think Wallflower’s commissions alone paid half of my grocery share.”

“Positively delightful, darling,” said Rarity, whom Sunset continued to deny payment for over the favor a few years back. Still going strong.

“Yeah, yeah. What about the fun business?” inquired Rainbow further.

“You should know, it’s not like you weren’t involved last time,” remarked Applejack with a wry smile.

“Indeed,” added Rarity with a sour note. “Have you any idea how hard it is to get gum out of hair!?” she asked, her tone bearing what could only be described as that of the greatest of traumas, a notion which Fluttershy reciprocated with rapid-fire nodding.

“Yeah, and I’m reeeeally sorry about that,” drawled Pinkie.

Sunset looked over to their normally bouncy pink friend, “Speaking of which, how are you feeling?”

“Getting better!” smiled Pinkie. “I ate a whole doughnut!”

The lot of them couldn’t help but share a laugh, stares or glances be damned.

After the Bakery of Doom incident (swept under the rug, amazingly enough) Pinkie had developed an unusual aversion to sweets and confectionery. Under normal circumstances, anyone knowledgeable about Pinkie(s) was that a Pinkie bereft of anything sugary was not normal. Fortunately, there was no deflation or perceivable mood swings.

“You should be back to your amazingly non-diabetic, normal self soon enough,” said Twilight astutely.

“What was up with that anyway?” asked Rainbow. “Normally you’d have eaten at least two cupcakes by this time of day.”

The notion seemed to make Pinkie seem a bit squeamish, a hand drawing up to her mouth in refusal. And the slight dagger-like look the pink one was giving to Rainbow.

“You know how when you’ve had the stomach flu you feel an aversion to whatever food you ate before then?” asked Twilight.

“Yeah…?”

“My dimensional double and I drew up some hypotheses: When under the effect of the Alicorn Amulet, Pinkie’s affinity for sweets increased to impossible levels by human standards. Thus, once the Amulet was removed, the abrupt change ostensibly left Pinkie, for lack of a better term; prolongedly bloated.”

“Basically, she just needs to let it out of her system,” Sunset simplified, giving Pinkie a comforting pat on the shoulder.  “Speaking of; any ideas on how to proceed with making him a non-issue?” she asked Twilight, not trying to hide the absolute spite she felt for Discord on account of not one, but possibly two world-ending misgivings.

Twilight visibly cringed from Sunset’s abrupt change of tone, “Sunset, I might have happened to mistakenly prove the existence of He Who Slumbers, but I’m not a miracle worker.”

“The fact ya said all that in the same sentence is an understatement, sugarcube,” remarked Applejack. “Say, yer bein’ awful quiet, Fluttershy. Everythin’ alright?”

“Yes, it’s just…” her features scrunched. “Is it just me, or has that guy been following us?”

Sunset looked over her shoulder; while she couldn’t confirm or disprove Fluttershy’s claims, she did see a man looking like he was trying to be the most conspicuous person in the building with a grey trench coat and a hugely contrasting red beanie stuffed over an unkempt bush of a hairdo. Sunset’s eyes narrowed warily, while her hand slowly found its way to the inside lining of her jacket.

On entering the carpark, there was some distance between them and Applejack’s jalopy and Pinkie’s car. They confirmed that this man was still following them, as if keeping his hands in pocket made him look any less conspicuous. Sunset was ready in case he tried anything, the creep.

“Excuse me, miss?” their attention got diverted; two people blocking off the direction to their rides.

The one who had spoken was a woman of indeterminate age, slightly scraggly looking with mismatched clothing, complete with an obnoxiously bright tag pinned to her jacket. The other was a male, likely in his twenties, scrawny and in desperate need of a shave or trim, his most defining bit of clothing being a jersey with a peace sign and that same obnoxious tag.

The girls looked at one another, Sunset’s hand still clutched at the grip of her gun.

“Pardon me, but which of us are you referring to?” asked Rarity, unable to restrain suspicion.

“Oh, sorry, I’m referring to her,” said the woman, nodding towards Fluttershy, whom meekly pointed at herself. “You’re Fluttershy, correct?”

“Ooooh, are you with the shelter?” asked Pinkie, sounding less perturbed than she should have.

“Uhhh, no…”

“Then why do your tags say “pets”?” asked Pinkie, pointing at the tag on the scrawny man’s shirt.

That’s when something clicked in Sunset’s mind, like something Harshwhinny had made mention of. “Wait, you’re with P.E.T.S.-?”

“They’re onto us!” shouted the man who had been following the girls, who, in a complete failure of dramatics, fumbled about trying to cast off the trench coat. Like the other two, he wore the same garishly bright pin bearing the word “PETS”, all letters in different colors within a heart symbol amidst his equally jumbled outfit and poorly kept hair. “Grab ‘er!”

Before anyone could react, the man, once freed from the trench coat, brandished a small submachine gun. This sparked an immediate reaction of Sunset and the rest throwing their hands up, almost in perfect unison, all eyes focused on the stubby barrel.

“Worry not, noble were-beast, we will have you free in but a moment,” said the woman as she and the scrawny man grabbed Fluttershy. To no-one’s surprise, Fluttershy began to verbally protest, all she dared to with the gun being pointed at everyone.

“Remember the bag, covering their eyes always calms them,” remarked the scrawny man, to which the one with the gun threw a burlap sack over Fluttershy’s head.

“It does not!” protested Fluttershy from underneath, whilst she was picked up by the two unarmed assailants who began to carry her away, all the while the one with the gun backed away in their direction.

“Sorry about this, I’m a conscientious objector!” called the man in the red beanie.

“Hypocrite!” spat Rainbow.

“I do what I must for the greater good!” he replied, right when his gun’s stick magazine came loose and harmlessly clattered onto the floor.

“Get ‘im!” shouted Applejack, Sunset having already sprang into action, pulling her handgun out of its concealed holster, to which everyone ran after the trio.

The man in the beanie blubbered as he hastily just managed to snatch back the magazine, only for the much faster and agile Rainbow Dash to kick it out of his hands. The engine of a car revved to life, after they were all in the headlights of a van speeding towards. Sunset felt herself nearly flung from the way, courtesy of Applejack’s amazing strength.

She could see Fluttershy through the opened side door, fumbling with the burlap sack over her head. The man in the beanie, magazine back in his gun, in a ballsy, but careless fashion, opened fire towards the concrete ceiling, as he rushed into the van and slammed the door shut.

“Don’t worry, your were-beast friend will be happy and free,” said the woman from the passenger side window. “Support your local supernatural friends; they have rights too!” To which she tossed a bundle of fliers before the van revved to life… Only to ram straight into some poor mallgoer’s ride, ruining its rear.

As the clearly hapless driver of the trio was trying to correct their heading, Rarity could be heard screaming, “Twilight, what are you doing?!”

The sentiment was soon universally shared by all as Twilight trained a chunky, and very magenta, gun at the van. Any screams of admonishments went unnoticed when the mad scientist fired. It was in a short realization that the van did not blow up, or disintegrate; all that happened was a loud “pa-tang” with a hefty dart getting lodged on the van’s bumper before it sped off for the exit.

“Fer Pete’s sake, Twi, what was that!?” blurted Applejack.

Twilight looked indignantly at the farmer, “It’s only a tracking dart, see?” she inquired, showing off how her gun had a whole series of dials and buttons surrounding a small GPS screen.

“Ohhh,” Sunset almost felt relieved, when the realization of their friend’s abduction came to the forefront. “Holy crap! Fluttershy!”

“Who were those ruffians?” asked Rarity in what came out almost as a snarl.

“Didn’t you say something about pets?” Rainbow asked Pinkie, who had picked up one of the fliers.

“Yeah. It says right here, see?” Pinkie held out one of the fliers so casually thrown at them. Colorful, saccharinely so, with a contrastingly icky image of what looked like a cadaver holding a Valentine heart.

Sunset groaned, “The ‘People for the Ethical Treatment of Supernaturals’. They must have found out about Fluttershy’s status as a were-beast.”

The rest shared looks of utter bafflement.

“Seriously?” asked Rainbow Dash. “Seriously?!”

“I know, sounds like a lawsuit just waiting to happen,” remarked Pinkie. “Gotta admit though; these are really nice fliers.” 

If only she’d known most of the photos were taken moments before the photographers’ painful, gory demises.

The last bit Sunset did not care: Their friend was abducted by utter losers, but still abducted. Twilight gave them the means to follow them, but they were going to need backup. As the lot of them scrambled to get into Applejack and Pinkie’s respective vehicles, Sunset flicked through her phone for Mom’s number.

A few beeps later, as Pinkie began the chase in perhaps a manner much more dangerous and hastier than needed given weekend traffic, she got an answer, “Mom! Listen, we- I’m fine. We have a situation! Code brown. … yes, code brown. Nope; P.E.T.S. abducted Fluttershy. Yes, we’re in pursuit- Whoa!” She was abruptly cut off as Pinkie performed a screeching turn, after which she was able to speed off for a good short distance. “We need backup, Mom! Okay, great. Yeah, I see ‘em, and Twilight’s got ‘em tagged. Yeah, okay. Thanks. Love you too.”

“Think that dart’s gonna stay on them?” asked Rainbow, leaning forward from the back.

“I can guarantee,” said Twilight, darting attention between the gun-slash-tracking receiver and the road. “Titanium rambolt.”

“Okay, sweet… How the hell did you know we’d have a need for car trackers?” asked Sunset, holding on to the seat thanks to Pinkie’s wild driving.

“Oh, it wasn’t intended for this, but improvise, right? I made these in case we needed to trail something.”

“With titanium rambolts?” inquired Rainbow.

“Well, it’s only a prototype at the moment, and it was the best I could get on short notice. It won’t do much good with human-sized creatures; by my estimate these things will blow a werewolf’s head into pulp.”

“Right, so improvised death machine,” nodded Sunset.

“And much safer than my currently experimental death ray! Speaking of; this thing’s got so many more goodies…”





Code brown. A goddamn code brown, on a weekend. Okay, it’s not like Luna had the most inclusive weekend activities; she just wanted to enjoy some FPS marathoning and not give a crap about anything for one day of the week.

That’s how Luna felt, having been forced from her me-time in pursuit of morons who thought bodysnatchers and man-eaters should be given special rights. But the fact it was Sunset who was affected; oh, it was personal. She was no Celestia, but by god, she liked to think of herself as an awesome aunt! Someone would pay…

She sped down the highway on the outskirts of town in her SUV, Twilight’s intel having been right on the money: They almost managed to cut off the van’s route near the bend by Canterlot Mountain, or rather, Canterlot Crater, but missed them by mere seconds.

Right now, Redheart and Cheerilee were hot on the van’s tail in the former’s car, even the registration plate being just as Twilight said, whilst Luna, with Harshwhinny in the passenger seat were maybe a hundred feet behind. In the rearview they could spot the girls’ rides; a blue, rather outdated station wagon, and behind that was the unmistakable Apple Family jalopy, somehow able to keep up despite its evident age.

No-one was given the green light to open fire. One; P.E.T.S. were people. Unbelievably naïve and misinformed, more likely to get others killed in the long run for their misbegotten ideals, but still people. Two, Fluttershy was inside the van and the risk of harming her was too great. For the moment the best they could do was not lose track and hopefully the confirmed three perps would give up.





“I hope you realize you’re going to get caught,” said Fluttershy. It became quickly apparent the three P.E.T.S. were not going to do anything to her, aside from the abduction.

“Don’t worry, noble shifter. We won’t let those hunters harm you,” said the woman, Sassafras, her dismissiveness just irking Fluttershy further as the chase went on.

“Three of my best friends are hunters, two of their mutual friends, and one’s mom. I’m perfectly fine where I am.”

That’s when none of the three acknowledged her. Sassafras just sat in the passenger seat, anxiously looking between the rear-views and back out the window. The driver, called Nettles, was too preoccupied with driving, and the man with the thick bushy hairdo and red beanie, Slog, seemed mostly preoccupied with incessant fidgeting. Thankfully he’d put the gun away, even detaching the magazine before that. These three seemed hardly a threat.

“I’m sure if you just pull over, we can all work this out and forget this ever happened,” said Fluttershy as calmly and levelly as her increasing frustration permitted. “My friends and I kind of have a knack for these things; you’d be surprised.”

More silence followed over the sounds of the car and the screeching of tires on asphalt. Fluttershy’s eye furrowed dangerously.

“Last chance before I will be forced to take drastic measures!”

Slog, kept fidgeting in his seat beside hers, “If you can’t be happy about us taking you to the wild where you belong, couldn’t you at least appreciate we’re trying?”

Fluttershy’s brow flatlined at what she just heard, “Excuse me?”

“Yeah. I mean we’re just trying to do good.”

“By taking me, against my will, at gunpoint, mind you, away from my life just because I happen to be a were-beast?” Fluttershy pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ever considered what I felt about it?”

“Could someone tell the manatee to shut up?” asked Nettle in an aggravatingly whiny tone. “Christ, this is why I prefer zombies; none of this complaining.”

Fluttershy’s nostrils flared. Her patience had worn thin. To that, she closed her eyes and focused, convincing herself on not feeling the least bit conscientious over what was about to occur.





Luna jerked in the driver’s seat, startled as the van’s rear door burst open. Instead of gunmen or deterrents, something big and grey came tumbling out, severely damaging the van’s frame as it did so. Redheart and Cheerilee came dangerously close to getting squashed, followed by almost swerving off the road before correcting themselves.

Harshwhinny and her had a much easier time going around the expanding, blubbery mass that came rolling towards them, accompanied by the most adorable little scream as it went past.

“What on Earth was that?” asked Harshwhinny.

“I believe that was Fluttershy,” said Luna, seeing the two cars behind them pull over on the rearview.

“Right.” Harshwhinny reached for the walkie-talkie attached to the dashboard. “Blow that car to bits.”

Luna looked over at the veteran hunter, confused, “Is that really necessary?”

Nagatha harrumphed, “I had plans for the evening, Miss Luna. None of which involved chasing idiots out of touch with reality.”

For the life of her, Luna could not come up with anything to argue. It wasn’t often they shared sentiments, not this much anyhow.





Having heard the magic words, Redheart and Cheerilee shared looks of utter joy, like kids on Christmas. Cheerilee was quick to lean out the passenger side window and opened fire with an assault rifle. The awkward positioning and momentum made aiming rather difficult, but it was not like she was really trying to. Sometimes the cacophony of a good old Kalashnikov was just very satisfying to let rip.

As she leaned back in to switch magazines, Redheart, in the worst example of spitting on road etiquette, kept her foot on the pedal as she leaned out of the driver side window, precariously pulling out an RPG launcher before taking aim. There came the ear-popping burst of propellant, the resulting kick sending their vehicle careening for a moment whilst the weapon’s payload went spiraling towards the target.

A resounding boom rocked the highway, the two of them grinning giddily at the resulting explosion. It wasn’t a direct hit, having missed by maybe three feet. Still, it was enough to annihilate the back of the van, sending it out of control and off the road, headfirst into a tree, ablaze.

Redheart pulled up by the edge, the two of them watching as three people climbed out of the burning wreckage.

Cheerilee clambered out the passenger side window, casually leaning her elbows against the roof and nonchalantly proceeded to flip off the three P.E.T.S. “That’s for last year’s ghast infestation, assholes.”

And with that, the two turned around and drove back the way they came.





Sunset and the girls were huddled around Fluttershy, having just changed back into human form. Due to the destruction of her outfit, she was now clad in a flannel shirt two sizes too large for her, currently seated on the back of Applejack’s truck, everyone fussing over her. Evidently, being a twelve-foot blubbery sea-mammal of indeterminate weight made one quite resilient to cuts, scratches and bruising.

Redheart’s car drove past them, able to catch their former teacher and school nurse waving as they went, followed by Luna’s SUV pulling up beside them, the passenger side window rolling down. Miss Harshwhinny addressed everyone with a short, “Girls,” and an acknowledging nod, whilst Luna leaned over from the driver’s seat.

“Everyone okay?”

“All’s fine and dandy, Miss Luna,” said Applejack with gusto.

“We simply can’t thank you enough for your assistance,” added Rarity, hands clutched together.

“Think nothing of it.” As bold a lie as could be; it was Saturday. “You all going to be okay from here? No injuries?”

“I’m fine,” said Fluttershy nonchalantly. “Just everyone else begs to differ.”

“Darling, you got flung out of a speeding car,” Rarity replied in resuming concern, the fashionista feeling around random parts of Fluttershy’s head and arms. “Are you sure nothing’s broken? Are you dizzy? Do you feel any discomfort?” Fluttershy could only roll her eyes, defeated in her own argument.

Sunset shook her head amusedly, “I think we’ll be just fine, Aunt Luna. Tell Mom I said hi, yeah?”

“Sure thing kiddo,” said Luna with a gesture. “We’re off; god knows we all have stuff to do.”

The window rolled back up as Luna drove off, leaving Sunset and the girls with their rides home.

“I’m really sorry about this,” said Fluttershy, finally urging Rarity to cease fussing over her.

“Sorry?” asked Rainbow. “For what? It’s not like you planned on getting abducted by hipsters.”

“Yeah, stuff like this happens,” remarked Sunset, her choice of words not lost on her.

“And this is us we’re talkin’ about an’ all,” Applejack came in with an assuring pat on Fluttershy’s shoulder. “Crazy pony magic or somethin’ in between, just gotta live with it.”

Sunset couldn’t keep herself from chuckling at the sentiment. All in all, this inconsiderate intrusion on their time together did take her mind away from the distress she’d been feeling lately. Seeing Pinkie hug Fluttershy, Rainbow bringing up something about “utility kits” to Twilight in lieu of her latest invention, complete with the looming scolding from Applejack; she couldn’t help but hold out for the hope that they were never getting rid of each other if this insane multiverse of theirs had anything to say.
> Moonrise (Drama, Luna)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her voice was like a chorus of birds and angels. “Luna? Can you come over here, please?”

Luna shoved her chair back from the computer, crushing a discarded soda can and sending two others rolling. Their new house was dark, but light and the smell of fresh cookies guided her to the dining room.

Celestia sat at the table’s head, smiling with closed eyes and lightly stroking the bulge from her belly. Sunset sat to one side, also smiling, as did Torch on the other.

“Thank you for coming, Luna. Please have a seat.”

Theirs was an uncomfortably long dining room table, leaving Luna to sit several paces down from the others. Celestia steepled her fingers, smiling beatifically. “Have you given any thought to what we talked about earlier?”

Luna drew a blank. She suckled at the orange Cheetos stain on her fingers and mumbled her confusion.

Celestia’s smile did not break. “About you moving out, silly. My third child will be arriving in a few months. They’ll need their own bedroom, and yours is the only spare.”

Luna squinted, trying to rally her memory. “Third?”

Something babbled beneath the table. Celestia clucked dotingly and lifted a quiet, polite, adorable toddler onto her lap. “Yes, Luna. I have two beautiful children and a third is on the way. Isn’t it wonderful? My dream of a normal, married life and nuclear family have finally come to fruition. I’m going to be so busy taking care of them that I can’t make time for you anymore.”

Luna blinked stupidly. Their adorable dog barked from the yard.

“I know this is alright with you,” Celestia continued. “I spent the last fifteen years cleaning up your messes and doing all the housework while you came home and played video games. I helped you get jobs, friends, and purpose, all at the cost of my own dreams. Surely you don’t begrudge me wanting to be finally free of you. Surely you love me enough to disappear without fighting over it so I can be happy.”

“Oh, now I get it,” Luna said. She took two fingers and pinched hard at her wrist.









Eleven-thirty at night, or so said her phone.

Luna glared blearily at the screen, then tossed it to the pillow next to her. Not fair at all. She wasn’t usually even asleep at eleven-thirty, so for a nightmare to wake her up before then was downright cruel.

And she had to pee. Luna rolled out of bed, staggered to the porcelain throne. 

She sat there… a bit longer than was needed, with her head in her hands.

Well. Time to go back to bed and stare at the ceiling for the next six hours. Either that or take a sleeping pill and crash for twelve, passing on the morning’s work to Celestia. Who never complained when Luna did so, ever.

The choice was obvious. Might as well grab a snack if it was going to be a long night. Luna shuffled drearily and rounded into the kitchen, then let out an ‘oof’ as her chest connected with the refrigerator door.

It wobbled, open. Luna made to push it closed, but a rival ‘oof’ came from the other side.

Luna peeked over to find her sister, cast in the dim light of the open fridge. Like the dream version, her bulge was beginning to show. Unlike said dream, she wasn’t smiling. Her mouth wrapped around a spoon, with a depleted box of non-sugar ice cream held in her other hand. White dairy smeared around her lips, and the bottom three buttons of her pajamas hung open to make room for the belly.

Their eyes met, and the embarrassment on Celestia’s face made Luna crack a grin. “You okay?”

Celestia swallowed. “That’s my line.”

“I went first.”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Celestia wiped her lips with the sleeve of her shirt. “The little one’s hungry, that’s all.”

Luna got her own spoon. Celestia held the box steady while she scraped out a wedge of ice cream and put it in her mouth.

“Your turn,” Celestia said.

Luna shrugged. “Just another no-sleep night. It happens.”

Celestia sighed and pulled out another scoop. “Except that when it happens you spend the night on your computer. You just crawled out of bed.”

“Man, that poor kid won’t get away with anything.” Luna chuckled a little, clinking spoons with Celestia as she went in for more. “You win, it was a nightmare. Those happen, too.”

“What about?”

“The usual bullcrap.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Celestia said sternly. “But I must remind you that you were wholly responsible for saving the school from Principal Cinch, and you did it while riding a unicorn and swinging a scythe. Any thoughts of inadequacy you may have are completely unfounded.”

“So you’re not gonna kick me out?” Luna asked as a joke. Yes, just a joke.

Celestia released an unsteady breath. “Of course not. Luna, I...”

She stopped for a second, shivering a bit before going on. “We’ve been together all our lives. I don’t want to change that. I need you.”

Luna licked the back of her spoon. “I guess. Someone’s gotta keep order in the school when you go on mommy leave.”

“Not just that,” Celestia corrected, though a smile rose on her lips. “I’ll also need someone to help with diaper duty.”

“And to take over the hunting,” Luna said.

Celestia’s smile fell.

Luna caught her gaze. “It’s gotta happen. Even Harshwhinny thinks a new mother has no business in the business, and she probably eats babies.”

“Been sounding them out, have you?”

“Yep.”

The pale lips twitched upwards again. “The young, hungry tigress is knocking the old matriarch off her throne, hm?”

“You’re pregnant, sis,” Luna grumbled.

“I know,” Celestia sighed. “Change is hard.”

Luna shuffled from foot to foot. “Yep. So… okay, full disclosure? I’ve been doing coffee with Harshwhinny. Talking about supplies, tactics, information. She knows what’s happening and she can bitch about nepotism all she likes, but she also knows I’m the only one who can keep the Canterlot High crew together without you.”

Awkward timing, but a yawn came through right before she dropped the bomb. “We actually tracked and nailed that one East Side vampire. Her, me, and Cranky, with me calling the shots. About as training-wheel as it gets, but it went smoothly.”

Celestia gave a wan smile. “Well, now. I’d call that proof that you are a very skilled, ambitious, and important person. Wouldn’t you say?”

Luna looked away, blushing and smiling. Celestia deposited the empty container into the trash, humming a tuneless few bars. “I hope you don’t consider it a violation of my motherly duties to keep making tools for the business. And perhaps I’ll finally collect that pile of tomes we’ve accumulated into something approaching a real bestiary.”

“So long as you don’t consider it a violation of my hunter leadership to help you with those diapers.”

“We have a deal.” Celestia followed Luna’s yawn, and Luna followed Celestia’s. “But right now it’s bedtime, for mommy and baby.”

“Got a name picked?” Luna asked as they trod slowly to the living room.

Celestia seemed to hem a bit before responding. “Well… oh, alright. This is still secret, but she’ll be a girl. Don’t tell anyone. I’ll give you the name if you promise you’ll go back to sleep.”

Luna nodded. Strange, but the chat and ice cream left her feeling drowsy. Celestia leaned to her and whispered, and the next minute Luna was in bed.

Her thoughts turned fuzzy, and her consciousness began to fade. Very strange… she could never go back to sleep after waking up. But here she was.

A nice name. A little flattering, given the second half. Luna whispered it out loud before falling asleep.

“Sunny Starscout.”
> Sick Day (Romance, Drama)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Applejack started moving before she was fully awake. It was an instinct, hammered in by years on the farm. No such thing as sleeping in when there was work to do.

Her life was a little different these days. Her knees bumped something warm and soft, which yelped at the sharp contact. That brought Applejack more fully awake, and she wrapped her arms around that something and nuzzled its red hair. “Sorry, babe.”

“It’s okay.” Sunset shuffled in the bed, pushing back against Applejack’s chest to form a proper little-spoon. “Don’t get up yet, it’s like midnight out there.”

“It’s four-thirty,” Applejack murmured. “You know today’s a farm day for me, I gotta move.”

Sunset pushed herself closer. “Fifteen minutes.”

Their hands met somewhere in front of Sunset. 

“Deal.”

No time to go back to sleep, but it wasn’t wasted. Applejack had always been a girl who could relax and enjoy, never needing the modern-age flow of distractions to fight boredom. She was happy with a creek, a clear night sky, a playing animal...

...a girl.

She tried this once with Adagio, just sleeping in the same bed without much of anything. It didn’t go too well. Adagio didn’t know how to relax, didn’t understand the joy of just holding someone. They little-spooned for a bit, but Adagio’s hair got in the way something fierce.

Sunset, though. Sunset got it. She got it every bit as much as she didn’t get Applejack’s appreciation for… ‘yielding control’ when she felt a bit randy. Nice, soft pajamas, warmed by the body beneath. Applejack’s cute little nighttime cuddle-pony.

Most days she sure made it tempting to sleep in. Today, Applejack felt cold despite the blankets and Sunset. She shivered and sniffed wetly, toughing it out for the last few promised minutes instead of enjoying them. 

Applejack supposed it was for the best. She pulled carefully away, mumbling a needless apology. Sunset had fallen asleep, and did not wake up.

Cold in the room as Applejack stepped quickly to the shower. Cold on the way back. Bit of a headache, so she snagged a few pills.

Still cold in her work duds. Little trouble getting fully awake, too. Sleep’s cobwebs sat heavy in her brain, and Applejack indulged in a second cup of coffee to try and chase it away.

Adagio puttered out in her bathrobe – an early riser, like Applejack. Not something Applejack would have expected, but the company was always nice.

Also unexpected was her greeting. “You okay?”

Applejack grinned through the cobwebs. Something must have shown. “Yeah. Just not waking up as fast today.”

Adagio stared at her levelly. One perfect eyebrow raised. “So don’t. Go back to bed. They’ll understand if you come late.”

“Nope,” Applejack said, and pointedly downed the rest of her coffee. “I backslide enough, what with the college and all. A couple days a month to help do what needs doing is the least I can do.”

She stood, shivered, sniffed. “Stupid dorm’s got the air conditioning cranked, or something.”

Adagio blinked slowly.

Applejack washed out her mug, threw on her hat, and stepped over for a kiss. “Later, Daj.”

The siren turned her head. “Not feeling it, sorry.”

“No apologies needed,” Applejack said. Balancing this whole… whatever between all of them took a whole heap of respect for boundaries. She settled for a smile and walked out.

Turning to close the door, she saw Adagio still watching.









When she looked through her closet that morning, Adagio realized she didn’t actually own any practical footwear. She settled for a pair of high-heeled boots, reasoning that at least they would protect her socks and feet from the mud. She took the bus as close as it ran, then walked the rest of the way to Sweet Apple Acres.

She’d been here twice. Enough to be comfortable letting herself in the house. A mess of odors assailed her – baking, hardwood, apples. Nothing like the dorm, or anyplace else she had ever lived. The wooden arms of the furniture were worn, and the wireless phone on a shelf seemed an invader amid the quaint surroundings.

“Y’all ain’t never heard of knocking?”

Applebloom peered out from the kitchen door, scowling adorably.

Adagio flicked her curls back. “Hey, squirt. Where’s Applejack?”

“Upstairs,” Applebloom let the word drawl out. “In bed. When she’s not running to the bathroom.”

“Figured.” Adagio blew an orange strand from her face.

Applebloom huffed and glared. “So why’d you let her come? She’s sick!”

Adagio let silence answer. Applebloom looked away. “Okay, yeah, I get it. Applejack is Applejack is Applejack, stubborn as a rooster in spring. She won’t call nobody herself, saying she just has to take a few to shake it off. Give me Sunset’s number and I’ll ask her to come help with the work. Or Rainbow Dash, or someone.”

“I’m right here,” Adagio said stiffly. “I can...”

She hesitated, then followed through. “...Help.”

Applebloom raised an eyebrow.

“What!?” Adagio snapped.

“Look, my sister’s been real bad at hiding that she’s porking you on the side...”

“How old are you?” Adagio cut in.

“Fifteen.”

“Awww...” Adagio cooed. “Applejack’s innocent little sister knows the birds and the bees! I remember when you were just a little tyke who spread embarrassing internet pictures and framed others for it.”

“Anyway,” Applebloom growled out. “The short of it is I know a fair bit about you, and I ain’t wearing love-goggles to tint the view. You’re more frou-frou than Rarity, and that’s saying something. Ain’t no way you can do what needs doing, so call Sunset. She’s reliable.”

“Hey, I’m plenty re...”

Adagio held in the lie. She gave a hard breath out. “Look, I’m here, aren’t I? Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it, no problem. You guys run a business, for Discord’s sake. You have employees to do all the messy parts, right? I won’t be mending fences or slopping pigs or whatever.”

Applebloom grinned, showing her teeth.

“Don’t B.S. me kid, I know for a fact you don’t keep any pigs.”

“You’re right, there,” Applebloom conceded. “But wrong for the rest. We get seasonals in for the harvest, plus a stock manager and business agent, everything else is just us. We got maintenance to do, products to make, and trees and animals to care for. Not stuff for someone with long, dumb fingernails like yours.”

Adagio shook her head. “I didn’t stutter, kid. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Applebloom folded her arms. “Why not call Sunset?”

“I said I got it,” Adagio replied sharply.

“Why?”

Adagio paused, then spoke carefully. “She’s my friend, duh.”

“I’d believe that from Sunset,” Applebloom said.

“But not from me.”

“You said it,” Applebloom shrugged. “Why not just call?”

“Because. I. Got this.” Adagio thrust out a hip.

Applebloom studied her flatly for a second before answering in a matching voice. “Okay. I don’t rightly know what your deal is, but here’s mine: Granny and Mac are downstate on a business trip. It’s just me and Applejack, and if her end of things doesn’t get done it all falls to me. I’m going to lose my free Sunday and probably have to skip a few days of school working to catch up. I have an open invitation from the whole Rainboom crew to help if help needs doing. So I’m really curious why I should gamble my Sunday on some chick with a manicure and an attitude problem.”

“I don’t have an attitude problem.”

Applebloom raised an eyebrow.

“You’re as good at that eyebrow thing as your sister,” Adagio said. “Fine, sorry about the Anon-A-Miss dig, okay?”

“Thanks, but that wasn’t an answer.”

“I’ll give you five bucks.”

“You want to pay me so you can put in a 12-hour day on the farm.” Applebloom shook her head, blinking slowly. “You know what? You slack off and I’ll take that five bucks outta your hide, but fine, have it your way. I’ll start you on the west fence. Go fetch some gloves and a scraper and I’ll show you what to do.”









The kid let Adagio stop up with Applejack first, but a very large part of Adagio wished she hadn’t.

Applejack was pale, sweaty, and sick. She nested in disheveled blankets, surrounded by used tissues and a bucket with an unpleasant odor. She still wore her work jeans and shirt, leftover from the delusion that she just needed a minute, five minutes, an hour…

Not a state Adagio had ever seen her in. That was alright. What wasn’t alright was the face: Applejack’s normally bright green eyes were dull, and as they noticed Adagio her listless expression turned to anguish.

“I’m sorry!”

A shrill, guilty bawl. Adagio froze as Applejack fell to sobbing.

Something about it made Adagio snap. “Shut up! You’re sick, it happens.”

“Not to me,” Applejack mumbled. She hugged one of the pillows, curling down over it. “I’ll get up soon, you’ll see. Don’t do anything.”

“You’re sick,” Adagio repeated. She growled and shook her head. “Dammit, you were half-green this morning, I should have… nevermind. I’m doing your chores. Just get better.”

“No!” Applejack howled like a toddler in a tantrum, burying her face in the pillow. “That ain’t how this goes. Just a few minutes, you’ll see. I’m the strong one, the dependable one. It’s what I need to be, it’s all I am! I ain’t even a dead dog without it. Just, just hang on. Don’t worry your pretty head none, I’ll be up and at them in a jiffy.”

She shuffled feebly on the bed, seeming to drift in and out of consciousness. Adagio didn’t watch. She turned from the room and fled, doing all she could to blot the words from her mind.

Work, yes, she needed work.









The fence didn’t need a full new paint job, but rain and exposure had taken their toll. Applebloom showed Adagio how to scrape out the splintered or rotten parts and patch on a new layer of white paint.

Then Applebloom went off to her own chores, leaving Adagio with a fence big enough to surround Canterlot High.

Hot, obnoxious work, with a lot of bending and interruptions. She could only hold the scraper awkwardly with her long nails, resulting in a thoroughly half-assed job until Applebloom checked back fifteen minutes later and gave her ‘one more chance.’

“You guys have a bathroom?” Adagio cut in.

It took three more renditions of ‘No, seriously, I got this,’ to convince Applebloom to put away her phone. Adagio’s timing could have been better, but a short walk back to the house brought her to the porcelain throne room. 

She opened the mirror, scowled. Of course Applejack didn’t have a nail file, like every other woman on Earth. Just clippers.

Well, Adagio could pretty herself up later. She briskly clipped down her purple-painted nails then went back outside. Lots to do.









The change made things easier. Exposed and discolored wood was replaced with fresh white, over the course of only a few hours. The sun rose higher, hotter, turning Adagio’s voluminous hair into a sticky, itchy mess. 

She stopped in the house for water and new orders. Applebloom didn’t exactly compliment her, but at least she stopped yacking about calling in Sunset. She also passed off a wide sun hat for Adagio to use, and mentioned that maybe, possibly, she should consider borrowing some shoes that did not double as piercing weapons.

Adagio accepted the hat, proudly declined the latter. Her stiletto boots were Hemline Specials, thank you very much.

Applebloom shrugged.

Then grinned. “Fair, fair. Look, I’m doing my best to set you up for success, here. It’s me that gets egged if you mess up, so I’m giving you the stuff that doesn’t need as much experience. I’m handling the animals and kinda the business side of things today, you need to pull weight on the grunt work.”

She passed over a large metal drum, still grinning. “Your next job is to replace the septic tank in the Kirin’s outhouse. Hose it down too, and replace the soap dispensers.”









Sweating and grunting to carefully dislodge the used poop collector, Adagio irately kicked the first curious Kirin away. “Beat it, furball.”

The second one to investigate wore a cheery grin uncommon among her kind. “Hi, Adagio! Taking out our poop?”

The tank was stuck tight. Adagio stepped away, fuming quietly. “Okay, this is bullshit. You are sapient creatures, you can clean your own toilets.”

“Aw geez, I’d love to, but...” Autumn Blaze held up a clawed hoof, smiling sheepishly. “No thumbs.”

“Magic?” Adagio grunted.

“Oh, right! Twilight said Equestria’s Kirin can like levitate and stuff, but… heh-heh, not us. Sorry. To be honest, Applejack’s the one who asked us to use this. Kirin poop can set a dry field ablaze.”

“Oh, friggin’ sweet.” Adagio again bent down to try and carefully unbolt the drum of high-explosive poop from its mount.

Autumn stayed, watching her another minute before piping up. “Speaking of Applejack, she’s usually the one who does this. Is she okay? Does she need help, or cuddles, or–”

“No,” Adagio snapped, more to shut up the cat-horse-lion-thing than any desire to explain. “She’s sick. I’m taking over.”

“Ooooooooh,” Autumn said. “I gotcha.”

Silence. Adagio smiled, intent on her work.

“But it’s weird that you’re here.”

Adagio sighed quietly, repressing thoughts of murder. “Why is it weird that I’m here?”

“You don’t seem like the type.” Autumn sniffed a little at her. “With the hair, the perfume and all, you’ve got more artificial products than an American grocery store.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Adagio mumbled.

Innocently, Autumn went on. “You know, I think I’ve seen all her friends help out on the farm except you. I guess I had you pegged for one of those ‘casual friends,’ you know? Someone to have fun with and maybe make a little kissy-face for a while, but then inevitably move on because your lifestyle is too different and you’re not willing to be a part of her life except when it’s fun for you, so it all stays shallow and casual, slowly getting stale until you drift apart to your next superficial relationship.”

Adagio’s eye twitched.

“It’s really weird, though, because I don’t think she’s ever been too sick to work, so this is kind of a big deal. And I know you’re trying your best and that’s really great but you won’t be able to get all her work done, she’s like a super-farmer. Have you called the others to come help you? I’m sure at least Sunset would come, she’s really great and gives the best belly r–”

A silver dagger embedded itself in the tree by Autumn’s head. She had blinked and missed the throw, only catching Adagio retract her hand to keep messing with the outhouse.

Autumn swallowed. “Whelp, looks like you’re busy! I don’t want to distract you so I’ll move along. Take care!”









The outhouse was a good half-mile out into the property. Adagio wobbled as she came back to the house. She kicked off her boots then collapsed into a chair.

Applebloom looked up from a work desk. “Awesome. Next is...”

“I need a shower first,” Adagio cut in. She had avoided any disasters with the poop drum, but the smell somehow lingered, and she was a sweaty mess regardless.

“Yeah, no. It’s not even lunchtime.”

“Fine,” Adagio said. She wiggled her toes, looking down to her once-pristine Toity socks. “Hey, get me those work shoes.”

Applejack’s proved entirely too big, but Applebloom’s spare boots fit just fine. Adagio looked up from putting them on to find Applebloom presenting her with a shotgun.

“Corpse-tree duty.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Friggin’ third time this year,” Applebloom grunted. “One of those bastards popped up in the riverside field. They got like this hole in their trunk that summons zombies that are also seeds, gonna choke out the whole orchard if we let it slide. I’ll get you the kerosene, you’ll need it after taking out the zombies.”









The brittle, decayed wood of the corpse tree barely needed the kerosene to be set ablaze. Adagio conscientiously gathered the zombies nearby to be burned as well, all with either shotgun wounds or sharp stabs into their heads.

She breathed in, taking in the scent of burning wood. A job well done.

“Huh,” she mused. “Applejack’s right: farm work does feel good. Some of it, anyway.”

...Applejack.









Lunch was a thick slice of ham with mustard and veggies on rye. Not her usual, but Adagio wolfed it all the same.

She moved quickly to the stairs, skidding a little on the hardwood. “Gonna see what the patient wants to eat.”

A sly grin and glance. “If that’s a sufficiently productive use of my time, boss.”

Applebloom waved her on. Adagio dashed up to Applejack’s door.

Reached for the knob. Paused, took a deep breath. Pushed.

The blubbering had stopped. It wasn’t better. Applejack laid still and quiet in the stale air, looking blandly to Adagio.

“Want some soup?” Adagio asked, putting on a casual air.

Applejack bent her head to a bottle by her pillow. “I got water.”

“It’s lunchtime,” Adagio said, unable to quite hide her impatience. “Come on, talk to me. Grilled cheese? Soup? Cereal?”

“Ain’t worth it.” Applejack rolled over to face away.

Something boiled out. “Seriously, Applejack, what is your problem?”

“The million dollar question,” Applejack mumbled.

“I know for a fact the others have helped you on the farm before.”

“Helped,” Applejack said. “Not did it all for me.”

“You’re sick. You’re sick. You’re sick.” Adagio repeated. “It’s cool. It happens.”

Applejack droned on. “I get it. You’re frustrated. This is how I really am and I know it ain’t much, so I just want you to know that when you end up moving on I won’t hold it against you. You and Sunset are so good and pretty and I’m just a workhorse who can’t even work. You’re too good for some messed up redneck crybaby who can’t even–”

The door slammed.

Adagio ran. Cursing. Crying.

“What the hell is with her?”

She skid downstairs. Applebloom was gone, small mercies. Adagio buried her face in her hands and shook for a long, long minute.

The world was blurry when she looked up. She wiped her eyes.

What was wrong with that woman? With… Adagio? Her throat burned to complain. To scream. To find out how to fix that self-pitying loser upstairs back into the Applejack she knew and… liked.

...Well. Adagio only had one friend she could talk to about this, didn’t she?

She took out her phone, tapped the name, and held it up to her ear.

Sunset answered on the second ring. “Adagio, what’s wrong? Do you need me?”

A twitch ran through Adagio’s body, and she screamed. “No I don’t need your fucking help!”

A few seconds passed, then Sunset answered. “Yeah, that’s exactly what someone who doesn’t need help would say.”

“Well I don’t, okay? I don’t need you to bail me out and be the perfect friend who is good and empathetic and hardworking and everything else I’m not. I got this.”

“You go, girl,” Sunset said. “Mind telling me what it is you got? Because I think this is actually the first time you’ve ever called me and I’m more worried now than when I picked up.”

Adagio breathed out hard, managing to catch and bottle her temper. “It’s Applejack. She’s sick and I’m trying to handle her chores.”

“Oh, shoot. Do you want me to come up and...”

Maybe Sunset could feel the sudden chill through the phone. “Never mind.”

“But that’s not the problem,” Adagio hissed, picking up steam again. “She’s being all mopey and shitty about it. She won’t eat, she’s making herself out to be some dog-shit waste of space...”

“Oh,” Sunset said.

“I mean, what is with her!?” Adagio vented. “She has regular sex with the hottest woman on Earth AND you! How the hell can someone like that have low self-esteem?”

Sunset groaned softly into the phone. “I… don’t know exactly, okay? I can’t diagnose her, and she doesn’t like to talk about what she sees as her weaknesses. From what I gathered she has or had depression, and sometimes takes meds for it.”

A hesitation. Then, “I’m not her therapist or anything. But near as I know, she lost her parents at the start of high school, and then a few months later she lost her friends because… I hacked their texts. She basically threw herself into work for the next year until Twilight showed – no friends, no parents.”

She gave a dry laugh. “I think Miss Redheart once told me that normal, happy people with normal, happy lives don’t become hunters. That follows, doesn’t it? You, me, Wallflower, Twilight, we’re all a little fucked up. It’s easy to forget that Applejack is, too.”

“Well, how do I un-fuck her?” Adagio asked.

“You can’t cure feelings,” Sunset said. “And if she’s sick, maybe she’s stuck wallowing in them. So be there for her. Let her know it’s okay to feel bad. Let her know you still love her.”

Adagio huffed and threw back her curls. “I never said I love her.”

“Adagio, there’s a time to be a tsundere siren and a time to be the girlfriend she needs.”

Adagio laughed, herself. It felt good. “I suck at mushy stuff.”

“Time to learn,” Sunset said. “Didn’t you just tell me that you got this?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Adagio grumbled, but her lips tugged upwards. “Smart-ass. But hey, Sunset?”

“Yeah?”

Adagio wiggled her hips, smirking cattily. “Look, we’re pretty emphatically ‘just friends’ who happen to share a babe. But just so you know, I’d let you fuck me if you asked.”

Sunset sighed on the other end. “Question: is this an invitation, or a roundabout way of asking to fuck me?”

Adagio wasn’t sure how to answer that, so she hung up the phone.









She needed a few minutes before going back. Adagio puttered, wandering the house. Hardwood, glider chairs, and hand-sewn quilts. A comforting aesthetic. Fashion aside, Adagio always had a fondness for the classic over the modern. 

And here, an unused room on the second floor. She closed her eyes, hugged herself. Plenty of space for a piano, a violin stand, a writing desk. She could work here when not touring, maybe even record from here with the right tools. She imagined herself hard at work, composing the masterpieces that even now were taking form in her mind.

A cup of coffee, comfortable jeans. Then, by surprise, a pair of strong arms hugging her from behind.

She pictured that life going on for years. She saw herself with silver in her hair, and didn’t find that quite as scary as she once did.

...If that’s even how it works for disempowered sirens. Adagio sure didn’t know. But that was alright.

The door downstairs opened, announcing Applebloom’s return.

She could deal. Adagio was never going to get all of the work done in one day, so she’ll come back tomorrow. Wouldn’t do to screw the kid after trusting Adagio this far.

Until then…









The door opened. Applejack didn’t turn, didn’t watch. Didn’t want to be seen like this. Didn’t want to be seen.

She felt the bed creak behind her as someone got in. Soft yellow arms gripped at her shoulder, hugging her as best as they could. Breasts pushed against her from behind, into the sweat-starched shirt.

“It’s okay, sweetness,” Adagio murmured from the other side. Nub-nailed fingers ran through Applejack’s hair. “You’ll get through this.”

“You should go,” Applejack mumbled. “I’m no good right now.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

Adagio hummed listlessly, snatches of songs both imagined and remembered. She stroked at Applejack’s hair, scratching the nails gently along her scalp until both sorrow and sickness faded into dream.
> The Artist's Dilemma, With More Violence (monster-of-the-week, yeah-okay-it-gets-a-little-political-sue-me)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a song posted to Adagio’s Whotube channel called ‘The Memory of Sand.’ A melancholic, peaceful work rhythmed to beating waves, combining violin and voice across many languages into perfect hymn. Adagio spent hundreds of hours just writing and singing it, then more in creating a simple music video of her walking along the shore. It gave everyone in the dorm chills to hear it, and when Sunset played it for her friend Rarity, the girl burst out in tears.

Adagio watched it play on her screen, her expression flat. sixty-eight views, up two from last week. One-point-seven cents in ad revenue. One comment by “PhoenixGir1” assuring her of how awesome it was.

Her channel played in the background as Adagio clicked over to her Paytreon. Still steady at four donors: “PhoenixGir1,” “WallpowerCrush,” “Applejack.Apple.” Plus “SwallowMeMommy69,” which honestly wasn’t worth five bucks a month.

The song ended, then moved on to the next. Something… different.

A twang of steel strings, the scream of a bald eagle, and Adagio’s voice belting across the room.

“WAEL this ol’ truck and me have gone
a life or two as one.
And if yew think that’s bad, yew better
think again, mah son.”

“Adagio, are you okay?”

Wallflower immodestly leaned over her shoulder to peer at the screen. Adagio brought the Whotube up for her roommate, showcasing a video of herself in Applejack’s ill-fitting clothes and hat belting the tune in a horrible rural accent.

Wallflower slurped her Cola noisily. “I mean it, are you okay? Blink twice if you’re brainwashed.”

“Oh, shut up.” Adagio chuckled, pushing Wallflower back. “This is called ‘Last Ride Home, Sweet Honey.’ It’s a touching melody about a patriotic American gun-owner who has to mercy-kill the dying old truck he loves.”

“Blink twice.”

“It’s a joke, Wallflower. Country music is trash and I distilled everything trashy about it into a single song. I made it all up on the spot while Applejack filmed me.”

“She was cool with it?” Wallflower asked.

Adagio pointed, smiling with the memory. “Observe how the camera keeps shaking. She spent the whole song trying not to laugh and had to run out before the end, it’s why things are about to go sideways.”

Sure enough, the camera dropped, taking Adagio out of sight for the rest of the video. At the very end, it cut off halfway through her last note.

“Because I started cracking up. We did it in Applejack’s barn at like midnight and woke up all their animals laughing.”

“Cool,” Wallflower said. She wandered off, leaving Adagio basking in the memory.

She went to click over to her budget tab, then paused.

Sixty-thousand views on ‘Last Ride Home.’

She blinked. Sixty-thousand and thirty.

Forty comments. “I can’t stop crying! This was beautiful!!!!”

“I FELT THIS ONE! also, nice tits :)”

“Why r ur other songs in Spanish? MORE OF THIS”

“my uncle bob had a truck he loved for 19 years. I played this for him and all the memories came pouring back. GOD BLESS AMERICA!”

“Swallow me, mommy.”









Adagio went to bed.

She woke up the next morning. Checked. One-hundred thousand views. Sixty-five comments. Eleven new paytrons. And counting.

She took a long sip of her morning coffee then set down the mug.

“Oh, no.”









Two weeks later, she checked her phone in the silver elevator. Two million views. And counting.

She dressed for the meeting. White leather with tassels and sequins, with red boots and 10-gallon hat. Gaudy, stupid. It’s what they sent her to wear.

The elevator chimed open on the 66th floor. She walked out to a marble hallway with many closed doors and a dour secretary behind a pristine desk.

The red carpet was so thick Adagio’s heels left imprints as she walked forwards. “Hi, I have the three o’clock with Satan?”

The secretary stood, beckoned her to follow, and walked Adagio down a long, large hallway with golden chandeliers. It ended at a massive door that she rapped on once, then held open for Adagio to enter.

At a desk sized like a banquet table, a man lounged with snakeskin books propped up and unlit cigar in his mouth. He had red skin, goat horns, and black plastic glasses beneath his 40-gallon hat.

“Wow,” Adagio said. “Literally Satan. Okay.”

“Hello to you too, kid.”

She looked at the secretary. “Aren’t you freaked out?”

“I’ve been in this business for a while,” the woman replied dully. “He’s about average as far as music executives go.”

“I set the bar!” Satan replied cheerfully as the secretary made her retreat. “But enough about me. How’s my next country music idol doing today?”

Adagio folded her arms. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”

“You’ll live the stardom dream and get giant piles of cash,” Satan said, lighting his cigar with a $100 bill. “No one ever says no.”

Adagio huffed and threw back her curls, though gave half a nod. “Fair. But level with me, Satan. People tell me you’re smart. The song was untuned, had no regular rhythm, and was about shooting a truck. It was a joke, and a really dumb one. As music, it sucked. You actually called me over for my good stuff, right?”

Satan took his sweet time, blowing a long puff of smoke into the air before responding. “Yeah, no. No one cares how good you sing, Fish-tits. You’re popular, and getting a hot piece of ass as our new star will help us make inroads with the horny single male demographic. Plus you live in Canterlot, and this is where my label is hosting a big music concert next month.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, the Canterlot Country Convention. I wanted to spell it all with K’s to be cool and trendy but for some reason marketing threw a fit. Anyway, getting a local internet celebrity to be our surprise star and from there launch her career gives us a feel-good story and a publicity bonanza for when we sell your first album in three months.”

“Three months.” Adagio hissed in, looking to the side. “I… you know what, I can take a challenge. One month for writing, one for practicing, one for finalizing. I think I can give you something good to work with. A general theme of longing for a nostalgic past that was never as perfect as you recall, then learning to accept the joys of the present.”

Satan laughed abruptly, choked on his smoke, sneezed, and laughed some more. “Man you’re cute. Corporate will do the songwriting to make sure everything’s marketable. You just come in, do a take, and we fix it up with sound editing. Bam-boom-bang, a hundred million in the bank with a cool million for yourself. Minus fees, taxes, expenses, surcharges, and corporate cuts, but it beats starving.”

Adagio frowned to the floor. “Will you publish my good stuff, too?”

“Sorry, high art doesn’t sell,” Satan said, chomping merrily on his cigar. “And if it doesn’t sell, what’s the point?”

Adagio tried her own little smirk. “What if I made that a condition of my acceptance?”

“Then we’d have something to talk about if I believed you in the slightest.” Satan tossed a wrapped brick of money to Adagio, striking her boot. “You can be a millionaire star, or beg for change on Paytreon. I’d call it your choice but let’s be real, you’ve already decided.”

He stretched back in his chair, crossing his boots, puffing happily to the air. “That brick is the first part of your appearance fee. Come in two weeks for the dress rehearsal.

Satan watched, chuckling as Adagio bent down to collect the money.









The cheers of the Canterlot Country Convention were muffled in Adagio’s dressing room. That is to say, the team’s van. She sat in her glittering leathers, the stupid white hat on her head, staring into the wall.

“So this is what my life has become. Either I sell out the one firm set of morals I’ve held my entire life, that of the sacred artistry of music, or I let this chance go and disappear into obscurity. The music industry is as cutthroat as any siren gang, Wallflower. I’ll never get a break like this again.”

She rested on a tiny bench in the van’s body. Wallflower sat on the one facing her, munching a moist, brown treat. Her other hand held one more, and she offered it. “Caramel-fried butter on a stick?”

Adagio leaned away. “Wallflower, that is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen you eat and that’s saying something.”

“Your loss.” Wallflower held the treat low, and their third bit it out of her hand.

The puppy-sized kirin trotted over to a convenient plate and dropped the butter. “Thanks! This tastes really gross but I love new experiences!”

“Hey, no interrupting.” Adagio waved down Autumn Blaze and pointed at herself. “We’re talking about me. I’m at a pivotal moment in my life, all options suck, and I’m hoping for a little support.”

Wallflower shrugged. “Adagio, I’m a gormless loser with no skills or ambitions. I’ll do my best but I’m still hung up on why making millions is a bad thing.”

“Did you read the song lineup?”

“Yep.” Wallflower flipped open the pamphlet. “You go onstage between ‘Jesus owned an AR-15’ and ‘It’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.’ Followed by a steel-string cover of the Statue of Liberty’s poem, edited to remove all reference to welcoming immigrants.”

She snapped it closed. “You’re a sellout, so what? Sunset part-times at a gas station, it’s not like working for an industry killing the planet makes her less cool.”

Adagio shook her head. “Big difference. This isn’t just a payday for me, this is a corruption of who I am. This is me trying to turn my skill and passion into a career and deciding whether to sacrifice my soul or my shot.”

“I’ll support you no matter what you do!” Autumn cheered, her snoot covered in oozing butter.

“Yeah, same,” Wallflower mumbled. “I still feel like I’m the last person you should ask for advice. Why’d you have us come?”

“Not ‘us,’” Adagio corrected. “You’re the one who brought the fleabag.”

“I wanted to be involved,” Autumn said.

“Yeah, she wanted to be involved.”

“Anyway,” Adagio pressed. “Who said I was asking your advice? I made my decision. But I need your help.”

“Not Sunset or Applejack?” Wallflower asked. “The people good at helping?”

“No. Sunset would try to talk me out of it. And Applejack would try to talk me out of it and succeed. I swear that woman has some siren in her blood, she has me low-key hypnotized to obey her every command.”

“That’s called love,” Wallflower said, then burped.

“I never said I love her.”

“Whatever.”

“The point is, they’d try to talk me out of taking blatantly self-destructive actions. I’m not just ending my career, Wallflower. I’m blowing it up with fireworks and C-4 in a way that places me tremendously at risk. I’m about to burn my hopes and dreams to the ground, and you’re the only one I can count on to back me up.”

“Me too, right?” Autumn Blaze asked.

“No.”

Wallflower hopped out of her seat, and solemnly laid a hand on Adagio’s shoulder. Muddy brown eyes met magenta, holding them for a few seconds before she gave a single nod.

“I gotchu, fam.”

She pulled back the hand, leaving a stain of melted caramel on Adagio’s white leathers.









“What a great performance, folks! While we get our next singer ready, our sponsor Queen Chrysalis Tobacco wants to remind you that smoking is the surest way to own the liberals, so light up!”

“On in five, Fish-tits.” Satan panted, fanning himself with a brick of money. “Man, what is wrong with your city? It’s freaking October and I’m sweating my balls off.”

“Autumn in Canterlot lasts five minutes. Next month there’s usually snow.” Adagio tugged at her collar. “But isn’t your hometown, like, literally on fire?”

Satan shook his head. “Propaganda. Don’t get me wrong, Hell sucks, just in different ways. It’s why we love country music, gives us a chance to hit up Earth for a while.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Satan pushed his hand through the curtain, letting them see the stage. “Ever since the punk scene got infested with Nazis we’ve been migrating to country. All those security guards? Disguised demons. So stay on script, Sugar-lips.”

“Oh!” Adagio blinked, then grinned. “This will be more fun than I thought.”

“What do you mean by–”

“HELLO, CANTERLOT!” Adagio belted, slipping to the stage with flourish and thunderous applause. “My name is Adagio Dazzle, and I’m rootin’ tootin’ happy to be here!”

Satan hissed from behind her. “Stage name, stage name! You’re Sweet Suzy Peach, remember? And you’re supposed to thank God for bringing you here!”

Adagio ignored him, continuing cheerfully into the microphone. “When I recorded ‘Last Ride Home, Sweet Honey’ I never...”

She hissed under her breath. “Ever...”

“...Thought little ol’ me would get to perform it to a live audience.”

Her smile shrunk, become less stage-like. More genuine. It curled at its tips. Her down-slant eyebrows turned it to an evil leer.

“But that’s an old ditty by now. What say I play something new?”

The response, of course, was ecstatic. Humans were so easy to string along.

“Alrighty.” Adagio slipped her arm from the guitar’s shoulder strap, leaving it loose in her hands.

She then reared back and slammed it to the ground, sending feedback through the speakers as the guitar shattered around its built-in mic. She pulled off the outfit with one motion, leaving her with stiletto boots, a black miniskirt, and a chest-wrap made of black tape.

She put her mouth close to the mic, letting her words pop into the air. “We’re gonna have a death metal variant of Katy Perry’s ‘I Kissed a Girl.’”

Death metal was hardly Adagio’s preference. But she had the lungs and scream to make it work.

“I FUCKED A GIRL AND I LIKED IT
LEAVE TRANS PEOPLE ALONE YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES
I FUCKED A GIRL CAUSE I’M A LESBIAN
HOPE HER DAUGHTER DOESN’T MIND IT
IT DON’T FEEL WRONG
IT FEELS RIGHT
I’M A CRIMINAL IN 72 COUNTRIES
I TAKE MY GIRL AND FUCK HER ALL NIGHT”

The crowd was… noisy? But nothing more. Some were yelling angrily, others seemed really into it. Humans are weird.

Security, though. At some signal from Satan, they turned and began clambering up the stage. Horns and red skin dominated, swaggering with clubs as they drew near.

“You could have just said ‘no,’” Satan sneered from behind her. “But now you ruined my concert and we’re gonna have to teach you a–”

A turd-colored van ripped through the curtain, squealing to a stop next to Adagio.

Wallflower leaned out. “Get in!”

“One second!” Adagio dashed over to Satan and slugged him in the stomach. He doubled-over, mumbling something about tolerance. She snatched up the stack of bills he was fanning himself with and sped back to the van.

The guards charged to intercept. Adagio’s grin glowed white and twin daggers appeared in her hands. She danced, laughing mockingly, speeding the silver weapons across throats and through ribs. Empty clothes fell to the ground, bereft of banished demons, marking her path.

Adagio laid hand on the passenger door as Satan shouted from the ground. “Enjoy flipping burgers, you dumb bitch! No music label will ever have you ever again. We don’t need idiots we can’t control!”

Adagio took her hand from the door. “One more second.”

“They’re breaking my windows!” Wallflower shrieked.

“Yeah, yeah.” Adagio sped back to Satan and kicked him hard in the gut. “That’s what you get for calling me dumb!”

“What about bitch?”

“I know what I am.” Adagio returned quickly to the van and leaped into the passenger seat.

Wallflower hunched over the wheel as it sped off. “You are gonna get me kEEEP!”

A clawed, muscled red arm reached in from the outside, seizing the small girl’s wrist and yanking. She went half-out, only kept in by Adagio grabbing her from the other side. Her feet still pressed the gas, but with no one on the wheel the van drove in circles.

In one of the dizzying spins, Adagio saw a small army of uniformed demons rushing towards them.

“Autumn Blaze! Turn into your fire monster form and let ‘em have it!”

The kirin bounced excitedly between the seats. “Sorry, that only works when we’re angry. I’d love to, but I’m just so happy to be on one of your adventures! Applejack tells me all about them and…”

“Then take the wheel!” Adagio screamed. Another tug by the clinging demon lifted Wallflower’s butt off the seat, and foot from the gas.

Adagio fumbled, bringing her own boot down on Wallflower’s side, feeling the girl pull slowly from her grip. “Do it!”

“Yay, I’m helping!” Autumn sprang up, putting her hooves on the steering wheel just as Adagio found the gas.

Autumn (who, as it happens, did not know how to drive) veered the car suddenly, shaking Wallflower’s aggressor but steering them right towards the demons. The good news was that they were in a speeding van – the demons dove out of the way and the car launched from the stage, landed hard, and took off into the fields around Canterlot.

They paused a moment to right themselves, and moved on towards the setting sun. Wallflower driving, Adagio in the passenger seat… and Autumn standing on Adagio’s lap, letting her front legs dangle out the window to watch the scenery go by. Adagio could put up with it, this time.

Adagio picked up the brick of money she swiped from Satan. She split it, and passed half over to Wallflower. The girl shoved it in her pocket without looking.

Wallflower clicked on the radio. “What did I say? I gotchu, fam.”









Unsurprisingly, the sudden surge on Adagio’s Paytreon vanished before paying. Whotube locked, then took down her truck song due to a flame war in the comments.

‘The Memory of Sand’… steady at seventy-eight views. Back to normal.

Almost. A few of the new Paytrons shockingly stuck around, and a few more wandered in. Adagio supposed there was no such thing as bad publicity. Hardly a livable income, but more than before.

Plus, a second comment had gone up on Memory of Sand. “Miss, I lost my wife last year. I couldn’t even cry at her funeral, but… it’s like this song turned a key in me. I cried all last night. But I feel happy today. For the first time, I feel like I didn’t die with her. Thank you, Miss. Thank you so much.”

...And a third, a fourth. “This got me through my bar exam. Thank you.”

“I have this song on repeat, it really fixed my writer’s block. :p”

She settled back in her chair, smiling, reading them over, and over, and over.

Then Adagio Dazzle clicked off her laptop, and pulled out her ink pot and vellum. Humming gently, she began writing her next song.
> Baby’s First Midlife Crisis (slice-of-life, drama)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunset drew a digital line on her tablet. Frowned, erased it. Another, erased.

Another. No better than the first two, but it would have to do. Being an art major was a little rockier than she thought it’d be. It wasn’t just a question of learning new mediums or improving her style, the big thing to master was production. Making progress with dynamic creativity even when you weren’t feeling creative. Like when the subject wasn’t interesting, or you were tired. An aspiring artist had to make paychecks where and when they could.

She settled back, studying the single line that would ideally soon be a picture of a goose. Warm vanilla found her nose, quite alien to their room. She glanced to the side, then glanced again.

Applejack stood by her dresser, wearing thick jeans and a heavy sweater. Winter had come, and the Dali Hall’s heater was no better than last year. The odd part was the open jar of scented skin butter, which Applejack rubbed liberally onto her hands.

“Since when do you use moisturizer?”

Neither of them ever did. Nor perfume, nor conditioner. Sunset liked to think it was part of the reason they got on so well, neither with any need or want to hide their looks.

“Adagio got me into it.” Applejack smiled distantly, eyes on her work. “I think folks might like it more if my hands didn’t feel like bricks wrapped in sandpaper.”

“I like your sandpaper,” Sunset said. “It makes them feel strong.”

Applejack shrugged, not noticing the tight frown coming to Sunset’s face. “They’re still plenty strong. I’m just starting to take care of myself a little more, that’s all.”

She replaced the lid, snuffing out the vanilla scent. Sunset stayed quiet as Applejack left, miffed and surprised at her own mess of feelings. Vague malaise and anger… for what? Nothing at all.

She leaned back in to her work, trying and failing to make the goose take shape.









Fortunately, the picture wasn’t due for a few days. Sunset wandered to the living room, still feeling blah with no rhyme or reason. She needed people, distractions. They could play video games, put in a movie.

...Not right now, the couch was occupied. 

Adagio lounged with Applejack on the sofa, both facing each other and wrapped in a single blanket. They gossiped and giggled, perfectly calm and relaxed in the others’ arms. 

No obvious groping from the impatient siren, no sign of her normal sassy boredom when asked to remain still for five minutes. Adagio had learned to cuddle somewhere along the way, when Sunset wasn’t looking. Their feet poked from the base of the blanket, Applejack’s in brown wool socks and Adagio…

“Hi, Adagio. Since when do you wear wool socks?”

Adagio wiggled her toes, barely visible in the thick covering. “They’re warm.”

Not an answer, but Sunset supposed one wasn’t really needed. The pair looked happy, comfy… 

Sunset let her eyes linger. Adagio’s bright smile looked so foreign on a face more used to sarcastic smirks. Applejack spoke softly a little longer but trailed off, leaving the pair gazing silently into each others’ eyes.

Unnoticed, Sunset slipped into the other bedroom. “Hi, Wallflower.”

“Hey!”

The girl was obviously on her way somewhere. A notebook, laptop, and kirin sat flat in her open backpack. She zipped and stood it up, leaving the kirin’s head poking out of the top.

“Hi, Sunset!” Autumn Blaze called cheerfully.

“Going somewhere?” Sunset asked.

Wallflower slipped one arm into her brown winter coat. “Yeah. I’m, uh...”

She hesitated, meeting Sunset’s eyes and giving a meek little smile. “I’m going to start studying emergency medicine. Ambulance workers, EMTs, that whole thing. The college does a program for it, I’m heading over to talk it out with my guidance counselor.”

“And I just wanted to be involved!” Autumn chirped.

“Yeah, she just wanted to be involved.”

“Congrats,” Sunset said, but her smile slipped when Wallflower looked down.

“I mean, good money, good for the business...” Wallflower shrugged. “I’m going to be twenty-one this month. Time to start getting my life in order.”

Sunset patted her shoulder, winning back both their smiles. “Hey, I’m proud of you. Wanna do something when you’re done? They got that new arcade in the mall.”

“Nah, sorry. I’m actually heading to Canterlot High afterwards.” Wallflower put on a knit hat, then conscientiously put one on Autumn. “Miss Redheart said she’d teach me about making and using explosives. I figured it would help if the business ever picked up again, what with the ‘Invisible Girl’ routine starting to… you know, go away.”

Sunset hesitated. “Is it a good idea to bring a kirin with you when making explosives? Can’t they spontaneously combust?”

“You’d think, but I asked Miss Redheart and she said there was no way that could possibly go wrong.”

“That sounds like Redheart, yes.” Sunset sighed. “Alright, just be careful. Can we meet up after that?”

“I’ll have to take Autumn home. Rain Shine says she has to be back before dark and isn’t responsible enough yet to have sleepovers.”

Autumn piped up. “Do you want to tag along? You look kind of lonely.”

Sunset forced a grin on her face. “N-no! I’m good. Have fun and, uh, don’t blow yourselves up.”









Sunset lounged flat on her bed. She clicked a name on her phone and held it to her ear. “Hi, Twilight. Wanna do something?”

“Sorry, I’m working on my new deep space probe. I’ve got a deadline and there have been snags.”

“Oof, sorry.”

“Yeah,” Twilight grumbled. “The trick is figuring out how to get it to the depths between galaxies before I’m ninety and too old to celebrate. I could bend the folds of time to just put it there, but then I’ll be hunted and killed by trans-dimensional hounds from before time began. So now I’m tinkering with magic to see if I can teleport it the old-fashioned Equestria way.”

“Huh,” Sunset trailed off, then resumed. “That’s… pretty cool that you’re stopping to consider the consequences.”

Twilight’s voice teased back. “‘For once,’ you mean?”

“I didn’t say that,” Sunset chuckled.

“Hey, we all grow up eventually.”

“Want me to come cheer you on?”

“No, I need to focus.”

“Okay. Take care, Twi.”

Sunset clicked the red hangup button. Sighed.

A light rapping came on the window. More hail, as if this day needed to get worse. Sunset pushed her thumb against another name, hearing it ring three times before answer came.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hi, Aunt Luna.” Sunset tried to sound cheerful. “You guys home? I’m thinking of stopping by.”

A gurgling roar and gunfire sounded in the background, though if anything Luna was cheerier than her norm. “Dunno about your mom. Me and the other old farts are on muck monster duty.”

Sunset sat up fast. “Do you need help?”

“Nah, we got it. They’re made of sewer debris so even if they hit you hard it’s more gross than anything. Just kind of a chore to take care of before they start congealing into a single mass.”

Two more roars came, closer and louder. “I gotta go. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Tap-tap on the window. Tap-tap-tap on the phone. Two rings on the other side.

“Hi, Sweetie!”

“Hi, Mom.” Sunset heard engines on the other side. “Are you driving?”

“Torch is.” A girlish giggle broke up Celestia’s voice. “We’re looking for a bassinet, then we’ll be shopping for baby clothes. What’s up?”

Sunset’s voice cracked, then paved. “N-not much. Just checking in, you know?

“Is everything alright?”

Sunset gulped, too softly to sound over the phone. “Yeah, I was just thinking of stopping by. Maybe next time. Have fun!”

She hung up before Celestia could respond.

Tap-tap.

Sunset dropped her phone to the bed, staring listlessly to the ceiling.

Tears sprang up, catching her by surprise. She sat and wiped her eyes.

Tap-tap-tap!

She looked down. What was wrong with her? Everyone got busy sometimes. This was nothing strange, nothing bad.

Pink hit the corner of her eye. Tap-tap. Her head snapped to the window, but it was gone.

Sunset waited, watched. Ten seconds passed, fifteen…

Something ascended to view, pink and with puffy pink hair. Knuckles rapped on the window, tap-tap, then plummeted downwards.

“Pinkie!”

Sunset sprinted to the window, knocking aside her lamp and pushed it open. Cold winter air slammed into her. She looked down, seeing the pink speck… growing?

Pinkie flew, closer and closer until she came level with the dorm’s fifth-story window. “Hi, Sunset!”

“Pinkie, what...”

Already, the girl fell. Sunset stared downwards, heart in mouth until she saw the blue circle of her landing zone. Pinkie hit it, and bounced back upwards.

She almost shrieked when Pinkie reached her again. “Is that a trampoline!?”

“Yes!”

Pinkie fell, and Sunset pondered that she could perhaps have chosen a better question.

By the time Pinkie returned, Sunset’s tactical mind reclaimed the fore. “Can I pull you in?”

“Okey-dokey! Let me just tell Limestone.”

Again, Pinkie vanished and returned. Sunset reached out both hands, catching her under the armpits and tumbling back from the window with Pinkie in tow.

She laid there an extra second, half-hugging the girl before standing and shutting the window.

She turned back to find Pinkie well into her personal space. Pinkie had already shed her winter coat to stand in a white sweater and pink skirt, now leaning in to study Sunset intently on the face.

“Why the trampo–”

“Shush!” Pinkie popped a chocolate into Sunset’s mouth. She continued her study, nodding and humming to herself before settling back with a smirk. “Yep! Auntie Pinkie’s still got it. The ol’ nose-twitch ear-itch breath-hitch tongue-twist combo is never wrong.”

Sunset swallowed the food. “Which means...”

Pinkie pointed dramatically to the ceiling. “Which means my friend Sunset is having a bad day! And not the usual bad day where you just need a party or to pet a puppy for a while (that’s the foot-hop nose-bop belly-flop combo), she’s being weighed down by existential problems with no easy answer!”

She blinked, seeming to catch up with what her mouth just said. Her hair deflated like a leaking balloon. She looked to Sunset, smiling very weakly.

“So I wanted to be here for you.”

“Thanks, Pinkie,” Sunset said. “Why the trampoline?”

“I got the nose-twitch-etcetera feeling and wanted to reach you as soon as I could, so I figured that would save time.”

“You know what? That makes sense.” 

Sunset sat down on her own bed. She sighed, then smiled. “Yeah, okay. It’s not the greatest day of my life and nothing bad even happened. I just… you know...”

Pinkie perched on Applejack’s bed. Her voice came soft and brittle, a far cry from her norm. “Let’s talk it out.”









Sunset laid prone on her blankets, facing upwards. Pinkie had pulled off her sweater and skirt to reveal a brown formal suit beneath. Silver glasses perched on her nose as she took notes, hair straight and legs tightly crossed.

“Okay. So, I’ve been in the business… four years. Four-ish. Age seventeen to twenty-one. Those are the ‘setup of my future’ kinda years, and I had what comes next all planned out. I would get my degree and teach art at Canterlot High. Mom would be principal, I’d merge our groups, and we’d keep on being an awesome team for years to come. It was perfect. I’d stay in town, keep in touch with everyone, stay close with her. Hunting isn’t always fun, but it’s really important and fulfilling and I’ve been doing it all my adult life.”

“But like, what’s even happened in the past year? Okay, I got kidnapped once. There was the robo-Harshwhinny which was Twilight’s fault, Lord Palmerstone who wasn’t a monster, and that one speed demon who didn’t even take two hours to wack. And the P.E.T.S. goons I guess who weren’t monsters either, and that thing with you getting god-like powers which I really think would’ve worked out fine one way or another.”

Sunset blinked. “I mean, when I list it all out like that it sounds like a lot. But compared to the years before with the werewolf, Principal Cinch, freaking Tirek? These days I go weeks without business, and that’s starting to turn into months. A huge part of my life is slipping away. And it’s not alone.”

Pinkie cut in, unusually straight to the point. “Sunset, before we move on: do you remember the horse-eaters?”

“Huh? Yeah.” Sunset nodded. “The horse-sized spiders.”

“Who kidnapped virgins such as myself, binding us in webs to sacrifice to dark gods?”

“Um… yes.”

Pinkie took a deep breath and shivered. “Maybe it’s a good thing your business is slowing down.”

Sunset glanced over to her. “I must sound like an asshole.”

Pinkie smiled gently. “Not at all! It’s like how if no one is sad, no one needs me to cheer them up. I really, really love cheering people up, but I know it’s better if they weren’t sad in the first place.”

Sunset sat upright. “Yeah. And like, that’s the purpose you’ve chosen for yourself. That’s how you know you’re making the world a better place. So if you’re not needed then it’s great because everything is okay, but at the same time you’re… not needed.”

Pinkie’s pen scratched across her notebook. “People need you for other things, silly.”

“Not...” Sunset paused, steadied herself. “Not really. Not anymore.”

She flopped back to the bed, staring upwards. “And I’m not going to say anything stupid. My friends and family haven’t stopped loving me. They’re great. They just… I don’t know, it’s like I’m not as important as I used to be. Like I’m the sidekick in everyone else’s story instead of the hero of my own.”

Sunset began counting on her fingers. “Mom has Torch now. And a baby on the way. And I’m not a freaking toddler about to throw a tantrum because I can’t handle sharing her love...”

She set her hands over her eyes. “Except I kind of am. The bigger our family gets, the more I feel like I’m on the sidelines. ‘The one that went away to college,’ you know? They’ll be building their life without me for the next couple years. I’ll move home to a family twice as big as the one I left. Mom will be busy with Torch and the baby; marital bliss is like her dream come true. Raising a daughter from infancy, husband and wife.”

Scratch-scratch, went the pen. “I guess I’d be less mopey about it if I had my own thing, but increasingly I don’t. Getting the Rainbooms together once every couple weeks has kept me sane, but it also has me noticing how well everyone else is doing. ‘What’s new, Sunset,’ ‘Oh, you know, same-old.’ Rainbow’s a team captain with a shot at the nationals, Fluttershy has finally figured out her major. Everyone is moving ahead with their ‘things,’ whereas my ‘thing’ of hunting is becoming smaller and smaller.”

“...And I miss it.” Sunset pulled down her hands, staring wet-eyed to the ceiling. “Discord was right. I don’t hunt to protect people, I do it to feel like a gun-toting bad-ass self-obsessed hero who–”

A wadded ball of notebook paper pitched up and fell squarely on her nose. Sunset unwrapped it to reveal a pen drawing of Pinkie Pie glaring at her with thick, angry eyebrows.

She knuckled her eyes dry. “Thanks, Pinkie.”

“A counterpoint, now that I have your attention,” Pinkie said with a prim tone that sounded ridiculous in her squeaky voice. “You are in college, taking classes to improve proficiency in your anticipated career. You’re moving your life forward just as much as the rest of us.”

“In an obsolete direction,” Sunset replied. “I don’t know if mom or even Luna will be there once I start teaching, and if this keeps up we won’t be a hunter group at all.”

“Sunset, nobody ever really knows what they’ll look like in five or ten years. Except me, of course.”

Sunset glanced over.

Pinkie flashed her a grin. “I’ll be super cute and fun!”

A wan, but real smile crept to Sunset’s face. “That you will.”

“And we’ll all still be friends!”

“Friends, yes.” Sunset rolled over, folding her arms on the pillow to prop herself upright. She stared to the gray sky outside her window. “Friends. That’s the other thing, isn’t it?”

She grappled a moment, catching her words twice before going on. “You know what I thought romance was supposed to be? I thought it was just having a best friend you want to f...uh, kiss. That’s what AJ and I have. We’re friends and sometimes we make kissy face.”

“But that was wrong. I missed something. Her and Adagio… it’s like magic seeing them together. They’re changing each other, merging around each other to be closer every time I turn around. They have a romance. The star-struck eyes, the constant thought of each other. I even heard them talking about Adagio moving in after college, which okay might be more about rent than love but still.”

Sunset strangely grinned, looking down. “I catch them now and then just staring into each others’ eyes like there’s nothing else in the universe. And let me tell you, Adagio is not one for eye-staring. She’s changed, and it wasn’t me who did it.”

“It wasn’t all you,” Pinkie gently corrected.

“I decided that I would be happy for them,” Sunset declared. “I am, actually. For real. But it’s a sad kind of happy. I’m watching them go somewhere great, somewhere that I can’t follow. We’ll stay friends, best friends. Best friends who make kissy-face sometimes. But nothing more.”

“Do you want to be more?”

“That’s the thing: we already trust each other with everything, share everything… I don’t think I can be any more. And with what they have, I don’t think you can feel that way about more than one person. I’m going to be the plus-one in the relationship. Supporting both of them in any way I can. It’s what I can do.”

Pinkie flipped back a page, studying something she had written previously. Sunset could see it from her position to be a tic-tac-toe board.

“Well, Sunset. I’m glad you came in today to share this with me.”

“Thanks,” Sunset said around a chuckle.

Pinkie pushed up her glasses. “What you’re going through is a very normal part of a young woman’s life. Family dynamics change, relationships shift, and ambitions meet reality. Do you remember how a very long time ago you taught Celestia and Luna that change could be good? Although it’s frightening at the time, it can open the door for better things to come.”

Sunset rolled to stare at Pinkie Pie. “Um… yes? But how did you hear tha–”

Pinkie set the notebook aside and leaned forwards, beaming towards her. “I think you need to remember that lesson yourself. No, the family isn’t just you and Celestia and Luna anymore. You have more people to have fun with, more people to love. And then the baby will come, and you’ll have a chance to give her what Celestia gave you: a family. How close or distant you’ll be is up to you. If you want to be a ‘main character’ in the family, then make it happen.”

“Your friends love you. Your future won’t go the way you planned because futures never do. People will need your help: if not today, tomorrow. Maybe with diaper changes, maybe with horrible vampires.”

“Thanks,” Sunset said again.

Pinkie nodded, still speaking with gentle cheer. “As for the lack of horrible vampires, when the cosmos align to recharge the Canterlot leyline in three years there will be ghouls and horse-eating spiders to your little heart’s content. Oh-oh, and there’ll be a really BIG one in sixteen years to set the stage for a possible sequel, so watch out!”

Sunset’s expression turned flat, though her smile remained. “Seriously Pinkie, are you an Elder God? It’s cool if you are, I just want to know.”

Pinkie laughed. “Oh Sunset, you’re so silly!”

Sunset swung herself upright, planting both feet on the ground. “Thanks for the pep talk. For everything, it felt good to get it off my chest. I think I know what I’m gonna do now.”

She hesitated. “Do you want to come with?”

Pinkie shook her head and stood. She whipped off the formal suit to reveal her winter jacket beneath. “Sorry, I’m going out with my sister.”

She let loose a giggle. “Soon, you’ll be able to do the same! Later, Sunset. Love ya.”

Pinkie opened the window and jumped. Sunset leaned out, watching as a parachute brought her down slowly and safely.









“...She didn’t answer my question, did she?”

The thought came three minutes later. Sunset shook her head and let it go.

She was already in her jacket. The phone rang on the other end.

Celestia answered once again. “Hi, Sweetie.”

“Hey, Mom. Where are you going for the clothes shopping?”

“The outlet mall just outside of the theme park.”

“Okay, cool.” Sunset took a deep breath. “Can I meet you guys there? I’d like to get the baby something, myself. Something from me.”

“We’d love to have you.”

Something changed in Celestia’s voice. It came out strong, certain. The chance, the bond, was taken with eager hands.

“Gotcha. See you soon.”

“Love you, Sweetie.”

“Love you too, Mom.” And Sunset was out the door.
> The Family We Choose (Fin)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ten burgers, fifty chicken nuggets, drinks, and enough fries to feed an army. Plus a dozen of those little cardboard-box pies, because why not?

Both girls used both hands to carry the bags outside. “Are you sure we can take all this on the bike?”

Ember walked a step ahead of Sunset. “No sweat. My saddle-boxes have way more room than you’d think.”

Sunset shivered in the windy dark. Canterlot rested in the awkward time between winter and spring, when the snow turned to brown slush and the sun was down by dinnertime. Chill plucked at her uncovered ears as they reached the large red motorcycle that was Ember’s new project.

Opening one of the storage compartments proved it large and deep, easily accommodating the mass of food. Ember wiped off the seat while Sunset checked her phone and quirked a frown.

“Applejack’s already there.”

“Applejack didn’t need to stand in line for food.” Ember yawned in and out, expelling cold mist reminiscent of smoke. “We ain’t got no one to impress. Don’t be nervous.”

Sunset gave a lame laugh, reaching for her helmet. “Well, we’re going to be making a first impression on someone.”

“The baby is two days old, Sunset. She’ll be asleep, eating, or crying.”

“Sucks that we couldn’t be there in the hospital.”

“Rules are rules.” Ember put on her own helmet, muffling her voice behind the black visor. “And my punk-ass is normally the last person who’d say that, but hospital workers put up with enough shit already. Plus I don’t want to be in the birth-story as the delinquent daughter who got arrested.”

“You’re not a delinquent,” Sunset said automatically.

“Technically sure because I’m twenty, but I know what I am.”

They boarded the motorcycle. Sunset tucked in behind Ember, holding her around the stomach as they cruised out the parking lot.

A red light next block gave Sunset chance to continue, yelled over the idle engine. “I’m twenty-one.”

“Yeah?”

“Guess that makes me the big sister.”

Ember’s helmet tilted as she glanced back. “Hang on, I definitely remember that being an estimate because the dates for your weird pony world and here don’t match up. Given that I’m tough, cool, and independent, I think I’m the big sister.”

“Yeah, but I’m responsible, empathetic, and mature, so I should be the big sister.”

The light turned green, and the bike’s loud rumble ended the conversation until the next stop.

This time, Ember took the lead. “But are we really sisters? Our parents never even married.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Sunset replied. “See, you and I might or might not be sisters. But we’re both definitely the baby’s sisters, because my mom is her mom and your dad is her dad. It’d be really weird to say we’re not sisters when we’re both her sister, so I think it makes sense for us two to be sisters.”

“So, we’re sisters because it’d be too complicated to not be sisters?”

“Pretty much.”

Green light.

“Works for me,” Ember said, gunning the engine.

Nothing else stopped them on the way to that new house. Larger than any Sunset had ever known – it seemed huge and impersonal next to the cozy little house she left behind. Her first real home, her own room. Just her, Mom, and Luna…

Now sold, to some strangers.

As ever, Sunset’s sharp mind set her straight. It was ‘cozy’ with three people living there. Things would have been a lot more cramped with five.

...Six.

Applejack’s truck was in the street. Sunset gathered the food along with Ember, then climbed up the creaky wood porch to the front door. There hadn’t been time to fix everything, and now with the baby it would likely creak a good while longer.

Sunset knocked. Ember snorted. “Dude, it’s our house.”

“Right, right.” Sunset worked her hand around the doorknob then shouldered it open. Mindful of the possibility of sleeping babies, she announced their presence softly. “Hi, everyone. The food’s here.”

Their new living room was spacious, and blurred into the entryway and dining room. It was also a mess of bright packages, stacked diapers, playpens, and other child-rearing debris that had not yet found a place. 

Standing out from the rest stood a clear centerpiece: a cradle of solid, varnished wood, made by Applejack. With a device to let it rock automatically, courtesy Twilight. It took Celestia a while to stop crying when they dropped it off last week.

Greetings came from around a bend in the wall. Applejack and Adagio entered from the opposite way, from the kitchen. Applejack wore a gleaming grin and made to hand Sunset a bottle of apple cider, then on seeing her load set it on the table. Adagio tapped her phone.

“Howdy there… Big Sis!”

“Hey, guys.”

Sunset accepted help with the food, then a hug and peck on the cheek from Applejack. The pair immediately began fishing out burgers for themselves, while Applejack pointed to the bottle. “That ain’t the market version right there, hand-crafted with my own favorite spices. Shake it up a little first ‘cause it settles, then get ready for a kick. Congratulations.”

Her smile twisted up on one side, and she gestured with her head. “We can toast later. I reckon you have someone to meet right now. Daj and I will hang out here, nice and discreet. We’ll eat and go.”

“You don’t have to,” Sunset said. A cold pit suddenly found her stomach.

“Nah, girl. This seems like a family kind of thing, what with a new little one and all.”

Sunset swallowed hard, giving a quick nod. “You’re right. We should hang out here, give them space.”

Flat stares replaced both Applejack’s cheer and Adagio’s disinterest.

Sunset dodged eye contact. “They’re probably really tired from the hospital, and maybe want to be alone with the baby, and maybe I should just...”

She blinked. In that time, Applejack and Adagio had stepped to each side and gripped her by the arm and shoulder. Gently but firmly, they spun her to face the next room.

Sunset felt a nervous grin play on her face. “You too, Adagio?”

“Sorry, Sunset. I’m whipped.”

“No getting cold feet,” Applejack coached.

“All I’m saying is that I don’t know anything about babies and I’m not sure of my place in the coming family dynamic and it’s cool I’ll just come back tomorrow and–”

They began marching her forwards.

“Coming, Ember?” Applejack called.

“I’ll catch up,” Ember said around a gross mouthful of nuggets. “I’m starving, we’ll let my little sister go first.”

They approached the bend, where the first words of greeting had come. Sunset recalled that it turned towards a cozy den.

She reached around, placing her hands behind the others’ backs. “Go in with me.”

“Seems like a family thing,” Applejack said again.

“Yep.” Sunset took a step ahead, then turned to face them. Her jitters were gone, replaced by a smile. “And you guys are family.”

“Aw, heck.” Applejack covered her mouth with a hand and tilted her hat low over her blush.

Adagio rolled her eyes, though was not able to fully suppress her smirk. “Whatever. We’ll give you a moment, then sure, fine, we can say hi.”

Sunset gave a nod. She walked forwards, then hesitated one more time.

Melodic and soft, Celestia’s voice rounded the bend. “Sunset, come meet your sister.”

Sunset moved. The den was set up for Luna’s video games, with a computer desk, television, and comfortable couch. Celestia sat there with a tiny, tiny bundle in her arms.

She looked tired. Dark bags hung under her eyes, and her head rested flush to the sofa’s back. She wore pink baggy pajamas and a drowsy smile.

Torch sat by her, not looking much better. A half-assembled milking pump rested on the table to his side, along with a beer bottle. Luna – the only extra family the hospital let in – sat on her computer chair.

But Sunset only really saw her mother. Despite her exhaustion, the blues and greens of the woman’s hair seemed somehow bright and vibrant; her smile not just from wan fatigue but a relentless need to smile in spite of it.

Their eyes met, and Celestia grinned with wide, white joy.

She adjusted the little bundle in her arms, giving Sunset her first view of Sunny Starscout. Now not much more than a little orange face with a dusting of reddish hair. The eyes were closed, and the blankets moved with soft, rapid breaths.

Sunset took one step closer. Celestia raised her arms a fraction higher. And by this unspoken signal, Sunset crossed the rest of the way and accepted the baby into her hands. She held Sunny close, cradling her as Celestia did.

The eyes opened, showing a sparkling turquoise green. They watched Sunset, calm and curious.

“Hi, Sunny.” Sunset sniffed wetly, and knuckled her eyes with the free hand.

She sat down next to Celestia. A pale pink arm wrapped around her shoulder.

Sunset touched her forehead to Sunny’s, feeling the warmth of the tiny baby flow up into her. “My name’s Sunset Shimmer. I’m your big sister.”

She hiccuped, swallowed, rubbed her eyes again. “One of them, anyway. You’ll meet Ember in a moment. She’s nicer than she looks.”

The free hand gripped Celestia’s. Sunset raised the baby with the crook of her elbow and kissed her on the forehead.

“It’s a weird family, kiddo, but it’s great. You’re going to have one heck of an adventure with us.”







“But no monster hunting for her,” Celestia said.

“Definitely,” Sunset added. “She’s not allowed.”

Torch nodded. “Never. She won’t even be interested.”

Luna turned back to her computer. “You guys are funny.”
> Hitched Together (slice-of-life, sexual reference)
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Years passed. But change was slow, and it did not always mean endings.

Canterlot High’s newest art teacher lounged sideways on the easy chair, letting her legs kick out over one armrest and curling her back against the other. Adulthood had not tempered her fashion for wearing black leather indoors and out, though she cut her red and yellow hair a little shorter now.

She gossiped with the other two, just like in their dorm days. Not all that much had changed – their ‘dorm days’ were less than three years gone. But it was a milestone, an era now passed. The time to move on came and went, at least with their living accommodations. 

Ironically, they departed to old places instead of new. Sunset moved back with her family. So did Wallflower – with the Memory Stone’s effect worn off, that reunion was tearful and passionate. Twilight had never left home. Applejack returned to Sweet Apple Acres with the energy and education to lead their business into the future.

And Adagio… well, here she was. Lounging on the couch, tapping her phone, only half-listening. Like nothing had changed at all, save a bit of added jewelry: silver glasses perched on her nose, and a simple gold ring wrapped around a finger.

Of course, the meetup wasn’t that special for Adagio. She saw Sunset all the time at work.

The marriage hadn’t been a surprise. Not to Sunset, anyway. Applejack was the only one shocked when Adagio finally made her move. But the career…


“You sure about this?” Sunset had asked, half-teasing and half-confused. “Teaching high school band isn’t really glamorous.”

Adagio airily threw back her curls, like this was nothing at all. “Did you forget? Mother Hydra created us sirens to teach and inspire music. It’s high time I finally got started.”


And that was that. The calendar flipped, Christmas followed Christmas, and here they were.

Applejack stood as she told them her story, gesturing animatedly with her whiskey tumbler. She’d grown up well, too. Of course she was always the mature one, but also the most fragile, plagued with doubts and insecurities. Growing up, expanding the business, and maybe a little lots of good sex seemed to have eased that all over the years. She looked comfortable, enthused, animated. Sunset couldn’t be happier.

“Who would have thought? Hand-carved furniture in this day and age.” Applejack swigged down her whiskey and slapped the glass to a table. “But they sell like you wouldn’t believe! Mac likes to handle that end, and he’s teaching two promising types to help with it. I never would have imagined trained carpenters would be our bottleneck.”

“Get Adagio to help,” Sunset said with a little grin. “I’m sure she’d love to.”

Applejack fidgeted with the gold band on her finger. “Nah, she’s got her own thing.”

“As you well know,” Adagio added. Idly, she scritched a kirin snoozing on her lap with her free hand.

“You still doing okay with it?”

“Yes, shockingly.” Adagio yawned. “Me, a teacher! What a laugh. Nine-tenths of them just play the notes they’re given with no passion at all. But the others, the ones who seize what I give them and grasp for more...”

She gave a throaty, dramatic sigh. “That makes it all worthwhile.  And I do still put stuff out on Whotube, you know. No reason to stop writing for myself.”

Applejack trod over to her kitchen for a refill. Sunset glanced to the empty spot, then lowered her voice.

“Do you want me to… uh, not spend the night?”

Adagio didn’t look up from her phone. “We’ve been over this before, Sunset. By all means, fuck my wife as much as you want.”

“That sounds like you’re just tolerating it,” Sunset said. “Hey, if you’re anything less than one-hundred percent I don’t–”

“Don’t get all human on me.” Adagio’s tapping thumb echoed her words with a tictac noise. “When it’s both of us on her we get to blow her mind, and she deserves every bit of it. And when it’s me on both of you, oh horrors and woe-is-me, I get to put the famous Sunset Shimmer through her paces.”

She glanced to Sunset, then back to her phone. “I do love you, you know. I just don’t like saying it.”

“You’ve really changed,” Sunset mused.

“Said the prom-queen demon.”

“Said the siren.”

Applejack barreled back into the room with a full tumbler. “I should have asked, Sunset, do you want any more?”

Sunset raised her own half-full glass. “Nah, I’m still working on mine. Thanks for letting me come over, AJ. The school year is what it is, but I’m happy to have somewhere to be on Friday nights.”

She gave a gentle cough. “Actually I’m, uh, feeling it. Any objections to me staying over tonight?”

Applejack’s smile grew wider, and curled mischievously on one side. “Well that’d be the bees’ knees and no mistake. Just like college, a nice little cuddle with you and me, then see where it goes. Adagio can take the guest room.”

Surprised, Sunset shot a quick glance between Applejack and her wife. The former siren’s eyes remained on her phone, though a smirk emerged below them.

“Whoa. Guessing by that you mean the dog house.”

“I can borrow one of her collars,” Adagio said with low humor.

Applejack’s grin took a frustrated edge. “Missy here – that woman who tricked me into marrying her – and I did a watch of the Lord of the Rings movies. First time for her. And ever since then she’s got it in her head that it’s the funniest thing in the world to interrupt lovemaking at the last possible moment to do the gul’ dang Gollum voice.”

“Precioussssss,” Adagio whispered.

“Wow,” Sunset said. “Yeah, that’s divorce material for sure.”

“Why does it hates us, precious?”

“This has been my life for three weeks,” Applejack grumbled, though her smile shined through.

Adagio flashed the jewelry on her hand. “Sorry, Babe. Too late now. Can’t even divorce me.”

“Why not?” Sunset asked.

Applejack hesitated. A few seconds of silence fell, followed by a sigh. “Daj, this was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Oh, let’s tell Sunset first.” Adagio rolled over to sit upright, dropping the kirin to the floor. “She deserves it.”

“Reckon so, yeah.”

Applejack approached Sunset, her jovial display replaced by solemn gravity. Sunset shifted her position to sit upright, and her host took her hands and held them. Green met green as their gazes met.

“You’re the best, Sunset. You really are. Daj is right, it’s only proper to let you know.” 

Applejack’s throat worked, and a grin cracked through despite her best effort.

“I’m pregnant.”

Sunset gasped.

Then looked curious, and narrowed her eyes. “You’re a bad influence, Adagio.”

A titter came from the couch. “Who’s surprised?”

“Seriously, though: we’re adopting.”

“Holy cheese!” Sunset sprang up and wrapped her friend in a hug. “That’s incredible, AJ! Congratulations.”

“Heh. Thanks.” Applejack fiddled with her bangs, smiling to the floor. “We’re actually a little bit along with the process. Went to the agency to scope it out a few months ago and things… really, really clicked together. Like it was destiny.”

“Tell me,” Sunset said. She sat back down, but now leaned forward earnestly. “Tell me everything.”

Light shined in Applejack’s eyes as she did just that. It was amazing to see – exuberance came easily to the country girl, but this was different. She was focused, bright, intense. And so happy.

“He’s three and a half. He’s got a bunch of words and is a perfect little gentleman with them. Sharp and curious, maybe not as wild as a kid his age should be but he don’t have much space with his foster. Lordy, you should have seen him when he came for a visit! So much room, so many trees, he ran his butt off trying to see it all. Then when I showed him the chickens he was just so sweet and quiet, real gentle with them, and they all took a shine to him too.”

She showed pictures on her phone: a tiny gold-skinned boy with short green hair. Petting a baby chick with rapt attention, then holding a kirin and grinning for the camera.

“His name is Hitch Tailblazer. We… won’t make him change his last name, you know. He’s like me.”

Applejack’s smile wavered, but held strong. She stared at the face on the screen. “There’s an ocean of paperwork first. I can’t wait, Sunset. I really can’t.”

“I’m so happy for you.”

The mood got to Sunset, and her felt her breath catch in a quiet sob. Pressing on she declared, “Almost four, huh? He’ll probably be in the same grade as my sister.”

“Hitch and Sunny...” Adagio trailed off, then shrugged. “I ship it.”

She smiled over at the others’ stern looks. “What? He’s three and he’s already a lady-killer. Don’t pretend my son will grow up to be anything other than a dreamboat.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow, giving a smirk of her own. “And a musician, right?”

Adagio gave a languid shrug. “I’ll expose him to good music. What he does with that is up to him. You can’t force passion.”

Possessing a far better poker face than Applejack, she stared seriously into the distance. “Besides, there are many fine and noble arts out there which may await his touch.”

The mask broke. “Seduction, for instance.”

“Daj.”

“And writing, and philosophy. And monster hunting.”

“N-Now don’t even go funnin’ about that!” Applejack blustered out. She smiled nervously, mostly-certain Adagio was joking. “He’ll be his own little man, you know? T’aint a family business or nothing, and frankly there is no need, no how, no way he’ll have any part of it. A gentle kid like Hitch won’t want that, anyway.”

Sunset nodded hard. “Same on this end. Sunny Starscout is growing up as normal as they come. She has no interest in monster hunting, and she won’t get any in the future.”

Adagio smiled pleasantly into her phone. “Of course. That is exactly how things will go.”









Thirteen years later...

Crystal Prep Academy was on fire. At least, one very large corner of it was. Flames licked high into the midnight sky, the roar of their inferno almost covering the screams within as vampires awoke to find wild roses across their coffins, sealing them in forever. A nasty way to go, but the only way to stop their reign of terror.

More to the point, it was… only supposed to be a little fire. Just enough for the coffins. Some dust or carpeting must have caught, and…

It was hot enough to warm Sunny Starscout’s face as she stood watching in mute shock.

Then she and Hitch looked over to their third – a wacky, bespectacled girl with a Crystal Prep uniform and homemade flamethrower.

She pumped her fist to the air, oblivious to their peril. “Aw, yeah! Mission accomplished.”

“My moms are gonna kill me when they find out,” Hitch gulped, turning from Izzy’s celebration.

Behind them, their two pieces of brave bait chased each other around.

“Pipp, stop recording this!”

“What? Come on, Zipp. The school’s burning down, this will go viral for sure! Besides, I didn’t catch it when you nailed that creep with the wooden stake.”

“Because it’s a secret! And you just said it now on camera! If you post this I swear...”

Sunny swallowed, louder in her own ears than Hitch. She glanced to him, then straight back towards the fire.

Really, she had been meaning to tell Mom. Or Aunt Luna. But things moved so fast, and it had been now or never for countless innocents. Mom wouldn’t have expected her to stand by, would she? They’ll understand… won’t they?

“If,” she said, pulling her gaze away. “Not when. ‘If’ they find out. I think we can keep this down-low.”

A secondary explosion burst out the top corner of the school.
> There Comes a Time
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There comes a time – there always comes a time – when children no longer need their mother quite so much. When lifelong bonds, undimmed though they might be in the heart, become physically distant and worn. When the last hand is clasped in friendship, the last heroic adventure comes to a close. When the lines on the face are no longer pleasant signs of maturity, growing longer and crisscrossing until one becomes old, and then, ‘too old.’

Celestia was never a creature possessed of vain dread. She approached her future as she did her troubled childhood, with acceptance and quiet understanding that they were part of the story, part of what made her Celestia.

Goodbyes had come and gone. That was the way of things. Yet a part of Celestia’s long sunset which was emphatically not the usual was the goodbye to herself, in a way somehow both literal and otherworldly.

A stranger would have found it bizarre, surreal. An old woman in her old house, filled with the pictures and knickknacks which aged folk naturally amass, sharing tea with the herself of years gone by. Princess Celestia looked no different from that evening when they first met. When she appeared naked on their porch, smiling with oblivious joy at seeing her old student safe and protected. Someone must have explained human taboos to her in the meantime, for all the visits since she had been clothed. And young.

The meeting was as pleasant as ever. The princess was always so wonderful, and it took Celestia some years to see the real joy in her heart when they talked of Sunset, of Sunny, of herself. They were not so different after all, both a lover of life and love, of hot tea and crisp autumn.

But nor were they the same. The mirror who was no longer the mirror.

There would be no more visits after this. Celestia’s long walks could now barely take her to the porch swing. It was the princess who poured the tea and brought out the crackers, for it was just so much work now for Celestia.

A lovely chat, as always. And then the sun began to fall, and the time came to say goodbye. She fancied that she saw understanding in those bright pink eyes, still youthful despite all that laid behind them.

The vision blurred. Celestia dabbed at her tears.

“You’ll check in on Sunny and Sunset, won’t you?”

She looked again with a dried gaze to find Celestia staring back blankly, wearing a confused expression.

“What do you mean?”

Celestia sighed, though could not repress a humored laugh. The good princess did have her blind spots, didn’t she?

“I’m old,” Celestia said. She pointed to herself, the silliness of it all giving her strength to say the quiet part out loud. “I’m dying. That’s what happens to us mortals. This… this is goodbye, Princess. Thank you for being a part of my life.”

“Oh.”

The princess blinked and blinked again. A vague, polite befuddlement hovered around her smile.

She sipped. Celestia sipped as well, silently annoyed.

The princess lowered her cup. “Why don’t you just come to Equestria?”

Now it was Celestia’s turn to look confused. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not mortal in Equestria. Well, not functionally, it’s a bit complicated. And Torch could live for thousands of years, bring him. By alicorn standards you’ve barely matured.”

Celestia set down her cup. “But I’m not an alicorn.”

Princess Celestia looked at her very curiously, and Celestia glimpsed once more a mirror of herself. Both felt they were explaining something obvious. “Yes you are. In Equestria, of course.”

“Am I really? I’m not a princess or… magical prodigy or so on.”

“No, but you are an alicorn. We all saw.”

“Isn’t that just because I’m your mirror?”

“So?”

“Isn’t there something to it?” Celestia squawked. “A test? Worthiness?”

“Why do you see me in the mirror and not yourself?” The princess gave a deep sigh, smiling patiently. “In your life of tireless protection, you’ve saved hundreds or thousands, perhaps your whole world. Who can possibly claim you are not worthy? That the fate or coincidence which made you my twin was not just and true?”

“It feels like cheating,” Celestia confessed, wringing her pale hair. “Others have also done great things, better things. Why should I live?”

“Why should you die?”

The question caught Celestia off-guard, and she turned to wit. “Because I’m old?”

“Age is perspective,” Princess Celestia said. “A dog is old at sixteen, a human at ninety, an alicorn… well.”

She touched Celestia’s wrinkled hand, wrapping around where it held the teacup. Her eyes – so bright and full of love. And so old.

The words came quietly. “I should like to not have to say goodbye. I should like to remain your friend for many long years to come – and I shall, no matter what happens next. I know life can be burdensome. The hereafter, I am told, is a place of peace and happy reunions. But if you will permit me to tempt you...”

She waited to finish until Celestia gave a nod. “What would you do, if you could start again? No less wise or experienced, but with a clean slate and full life before you?”

Princess Celestia pulled back her hand slowly, yet its warmth remained. “As you desire: goodbye, Celestia. My twin, my friend, my precious family. Goodbye for now, for we shall meet again no matter what you choose. You are loved, and shall be loved forever.”

She stood, then collected and washed the dishes.

As she went to leave, Celestia spoke.

“A teacher.”

The princess looked to her. Celestia stared out the window, where autumn leaves were starting to fall.

“I would be a teacher. Like how they are supposed to be. No screens, no inane bureaucracy, no machine-like shoveling of students from one grade to the next. Not a principal, not a hunter. A simple teacher in a simple little schoolhouse, helping children learn to be curious and kind.”









It was not long after that a car pulled into the Canterlot High parking lot. Two old women hobbled out, leaning on each other as they approached the statue.

“I can’t believe you were just silently waiting for me to suggest it.” Celestia grumbled, her breaths tight and uneven. Without the other balancing her she could never walk this far.

“You know me, I’m a follower.” Luna chuckled. “I figured you had a good reason for staying, and… I wouldn’t want to go without you. I’ll fly and explore, and learn from my twin to shape the stars. But I want to be home in time for dinner each day with you.”

No one watched them depart into the portal. Their goodbyes had been said, and their goodbye-for-nows. Sunset and Sunny would follow in their own time, if they chose. Perhaps others? Who could say? The universe held terrors, yes, but also wonders both grand and subtle.

They emerged as young alicorns, hale and healthy and full of potential. Ponies greeted them with tears and warm embraces on the other side. Some were alicorns, some not. Some were familiar, others would become wonderful new friends.

The mirror shimmered behind them. Princess Luna gazed curiously, while Celestia beamed and rustled her feathers.

“Torch is coming, too. My husband. I figured we–”

At that instant, a 100-meter tall twin of a dragon lord emerged fully into the room. The entire left half of Twilight’s castle exploded outwards, sending confused ponies sailing through the air. The princesses flew into action, catching them and shielding the debris, while the retired principals plowed gracelessly into the ground. Booming apologies and questions, Torch stumbled, tripped over the battered wall, and collapsed face-first onto his wife and her sister.

They were all fine, of course. And even in those moments they knew this was only the first of many adventures to come.