[FLUTTERRAPE] Nightmare Fluttershy


                                            Originally uploaded to Pastebin: December 15th, 2020

                                            ---


                                            >Sitting on the low couch in the living room of your little cottage, you fidget with your mane as you read from the book for the umpteenth time.

                                            >Angel Bunny, who had long since given up providing moral support, had taken himself off to bed a short while ago.

                                            >Leaving you fumbling with your yourself as you carefully scan the pages again.

                                            >You chew your lip, eyes darting over the incantations, then the diagrams of the sigil, then the incantations again.

                                            >It mentions quite a few times the implications of the spell; possible side-effects (including but not limited to: cardiovascular combustion, half-death, and dysentery), as well as a whole litany of religious mumbo-jumbo you admittedly skipped over.

                                            >Still, you seem to have done everything sort-of-right so far.

                                            >You look up at the sigil you had neatly daubed on your floorboards in a lustrous red paint.

                                            >It took some effort to clear away the furniture, and you're definitely not looking forward to having to drag it all back into place once you're done; but all in all you think you've done a very good job at drawing a forbidden ritual circle, considering it's your first time doing this sort of thing.

                                            >Finally satisfied with what you need to do, you carefully lay the open book to one side on a cushion and stand up.

                                            >You take one last glance at the pages and step into the circle, silently mouthing the words you need to say once you begin.

                                            >With your legs firmly planted in the appropriate places, you clear your throat and begin.

                                            "Oh dark spirits of night; jesters of chaos and fey; I call out to you!"

                                            >The oil lamps you had going around your living room abruptly go out with a whisper, and a shiver trails down your spine.

                                            >Undeterred, you continue.

                                            "This frail mortal vessel seeks power beyond her means; she seeks the strength to overcome her foes; magic to vanquish her adversaries; the arcane mandate to rule!"

                                            >Your voice has become oddly muted; the sound doesn't seem to be bouncing off the walls like it normally would.

                                            >The air has become close, and still.

                                            >You feel beads of sweat forming on your brow and coat.

                                            >But still, you persist.

                                            "Grant her an audience, that she may seek to curry your favour and be found worthy of your blessing!"

                                            >With a final breath, "Oh dark spirits of night; attend my call!"

                                            >A mote of pure black flickers into existence just before your eyes.

                                            >It ebbs; tendrils of shadow like wisps of smoke dancing about its meagre form.

                                            >Your eyes widen and your breath catches in your throat.

                                            >The mote expands unevenly, becoming a growing layer that envelops the far wall.

                                            >From your view, it looks as though a side of your home as ceased to exist.

                                            >Your primal instincts beg you to look away; ignoring them, you stare into the abyss.

                                            >It stares back.

                                            >A deep, resonant voice quakes the very foundations of your cottage.

                                            >It does not echo, for sound remains muffled still, but it vibrates your very bones.

                                            >Even if you were to cover your ears you would still hear it in your head, as though the voice was trying to break out of your skull.

                                            >With mixed feelings of hope and horror, you can assert that the ritual was a success.

                                            >'' WE, HAVE HEARD YOUR PLEA. WE, HAVE ANSWERED. ''

                                            "O-oh, oh my, it worked. Umm, hello there? Is, um, is this the Darkness?"

                                            >'' THIS ESSENCE HAS KNOWN MANY NAMES. WE, CARE NOT BY WHICH YOU ADDRESS US, ONLY THAT WE HAVE BEEN ADDRESSED. ''

                                            "Uh. Good! Well, um, hello, again, my name is Fluttershy. I read in the book that you can, uh, grant... wishes?"

                                            >'' WE, ARE THE CHAOS OF POTENTIAL. YOUR WORLD IS IMMATERIAL. IT CAN BE REFORMED. ''

                                            "I'll take that as a... yes? Um, so, according to the book you needed a sacrifice? I sort of got you one there. Just there."

                                            >You look down and nudge the dead bird, still covered in blood, towards the void currently occupying the space between the cabinet where you keep your expensive china, and the door to your cellar.

                                            >The Darkness is silent for a moment, then:

                                            >'' THIS FLESH STILL BEARS THE FLAME OF LIFE. ''

                                            "Oh! Well, yes, it does. The book said the offering had to be dead, but I didn't really want to do that so I just had Miss Finch here cover herself in ketchup."

                                            >Miss Finch cracks open one of her eyes to look at you.

                                            >You shake your head.

                                            "No no, you're still supposed to be playing dead."

                                            >The bird nods excitedly and makes a 'blarg' noise, sticking out her tongue and twitching her leg for dramatic effect.

                                            >You smile at the Darkness.

                                            "That's fine, right?"

                                            >'' THIS SIGIL WAS NOT FASHIONED FROM UNTAINED BLOOD. ''

                                            "Oh, that; yes I read that it was supposed to be harvested from a pure soul, but then I saw this really nice red gloss on sale at the hardware store; two tins for ten bits! Plus it's water-based so it'll wash out really easily unlike blood. I think it shines a lot nicer than blood would as well, don't you think? You can, um, borrow one of the tins if you'd like? You have to promise to give it back though."

                                            >'' YOU HAVE MADE A MOCKERY OF THE ANCIENT RITES. ''

                                            "I don't think I've done that bad of a job, it's only my first time; you could be a -little- bit more supportive..."

                                            >...

                                            >'' THE TOME FROM WHICH YOU CALLED US FORTH. FROM WHOM DID YOU OBTAIN ITS SECRETS. ''

                                            "Well Twilight had it in her library; it was in the bargain bin section."

                                            >'' YOU WERE SOLD THE SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE. FOR A DISCOUNT. ''

                                            "Uh huh! I've had a really good week for finding deals, first the book, then the paint. I think even the ketchup Miss Finch is covered in was eighty percent off because it was nearly out of date, but my mother always said that condiments can't go off so really they just gave it away for no reason--"

                                            >'' FOR WHAT PURPOSE HAVE YOU DRAWN US TO THIS PLANE. ''

                                            "Oh! Right, yes, sorry, can you please make me a god?"

                                            >'' THE POWERS OF OMNIPOTENCE RELATIVE TO THIS WORLD ARE NOT SUITABLE FOR ONE SUCH AS YOU. ''

                                            "Oh... okay... maybe something kind of like a god then?"

                                            >'' IN CENTURIES PAST, A BEING OF THIS WORLD BESEECHED US TO GRANT HER THE POWER TO DESTROY HER OWN KIN. WE, GRANTED THIS REQUEST. ''

                                            "That sounds like a start; please could I have that?"

                                            >'' THESE GIFTS BEAR A PRICE. ''

                                            "But I already gave you a bird! I mean she's not dead, but it's the thought that counts, right?"

                                            >'' AS YOU OPEN YOUR HEART TO THE VOID, SO TOO WILL THE VOID OPEN ITSELF TO YOU. AS YOU COME TO KNOW POWER SUFFICIENT TO UNMAKE THIS WORLD; YOUR SOUL WILL WEEP. YOUR EVERY DREAM A WAKING NIGHTMARE. SUCH IS THE FATE OF THOSE THAT WOULD COURT FORCES BEYOND THEIR UNDERSTANDING. ''

                                            "...But I'll still be super-duper powerful?"

                                            >'' YES. YOU WILL BE SUPER-DUPER POWERFUL. ''

                                            "Are you sure? You sound kind of unsure."

                                            >'' WE, ARE VERY SURE. PLEASE MAKE YOUR CHOICE. -PLEASE-. ''

                                            "Okay! I think I would like to do it. I would like to proceed, Mister Darkness, sir."

                                            >...

                                            "So do I need to sign anything or--"

                                            >Surging forth from the Darkness, tendrils of unfocused shadow grab your limbs and begin dragging you towards the widening maw.

                                            >You briefly struggle, but the strength of this being is absolute, and irresistible.

                                            >The wall of darkness now fully encompassing your vision, your eyes shrink to pinpricks as you behold for the first time the sheer enormity of what you have conjured forth.

                                            >As your tiny form is submerged amidst the Stygian mass, the entirety of creation unfolds itself before you.

                                            >Your mind is assaulted with visions of the breadth and scope of the universe in all its splendour, and of the cold, haunting silence that lies just beyond it.

                                            >Tears streak down your cheeks as you witness everything that has been, everything that is, and everything that could be.

                                            >In the face of it all, you cannot whisper, and you cannot scream.

                                            >The Darkness closes around you, and the mare formerly know as Fluttershy vanishes from the world.

                                            >'' THE OFFERING IS ACCEPTED. THE PACT IS SEALED.  ''


                                            >Waking up with a yawn, you reach a hand across your face and rub your eyes of sleep.

                                            >With a flop you fall out of bed, grunting as your body crumples against the floor.

                                            >It takes a Herculean effort, but you manage to get up and drag yourself to the shower.

                                            >As you wash and get yourself ready for the day, you review your mental check-list.

                                            >There are three things you need to do today.

                                            >Return Twilight's magnifying glass; speak to Rainbow Dash about the weather forecast; ask Trixie to get off your lawn.

                                            >Thinking on that last one, you draw back the curtain slightly and peer out of your bathroom window.

                                            >Trixie's wagon is still secured to your garden fence.

                                            >You've already asked her twice to move, but she's reluctant and keeps citing 'squatter's rights'.

                                            >It's not obvious she even knows what those are.

                                            >Still, you have a day ahead of you, so with that you step out and into the world beyond your front door.


                                            >You bang a fist on the little wooden door a few times.

                                            >A load, annoyed groan can be heard from within, followed by a great deal of rustling and the entire wagon rocking from side to side.

                                            >Eventually, the door opens, and a perturbed blue unicorn leans against the door frame, regarding you with scorn.

                                            >"Back again to oppress Trixie?"

                                            "Back again to tell Trixie to get the hell off my lawn before I call the guard."

                                            >"This so-called 'lawn' is just a piece of land. You don't own it, no one can own the earth we walk on."

                                            "Uh huh. Kind of like no one can own trees, right?"

                                            >"Exactly! Are you finally getting it now?"

                                            "So that sort of means you can't own anything made of trees either. Like, things made of wood. Like wooden doors, and wooden chairs," you narrow your eyes, "and wooden wagons."

                                            >"Hah, well of course the wagon belongs to Trixie, don't be absurd!"

                                            "Ha ha," you drawl humourlessly, "well, Trixie, I need to run a couple of errands in town. If the wagon's not gone by the time I get back, I'm calling the guard to remove it for me."

                                            >"You would use the heavy hand of the law to remove a simple wanderer? Well I'm sorry my existence is an affront to your imperialist dogma!"

                                            "I'd be willing to bet you don't have a clue what you even just said." you turn to walk away, and call over your shoulder, "Also be careful, you didn't call yourself 'Trixie' then. You're slipping."

                                            >She blurts out a retort, but you don't care enough to listen.

                                            >You're more focused on the strange lack of birdsong.


                                            >Spike hurries to your side as you enter the library, patting himself down and making sure his scales are straight.

                                            >"H-hey, Anon! Good morning! What do you need? Can I help?"

                                            "Morning, Spike; just returning Twilight's thing," you say, waggling the magnifying glass at him, "I'll be in and out."

                                            >"Cool! So will you be doing anything else? Do you have plans today?"

                                            >You give him an affectionate smile.

                                            "I get it, Spike, but sorry, I can't hang out today. Got things to do, people to see; you know how it is."

                                            >He nods, deflating a bit.

                                            >"Right, sure. But tomorrow, right?"

                                            "Tomorrow for sure," you say with a wink.

                                            >Ascending the stairs, you come to Twilight's room, knocking three times as you normally do before entering.

                                            >The mare herself is perched on her bed, looking worn-out.

                                            >Books surround her, as usual.

                                            "Hey, Twi." you glance at the piles of parchments and hardbacks as you approach her, "another busy night?"

                                            >"Sort of. Something weird happened, just been trying to figure it out."

                                            "Yeah? Like what? Got your magnifier, by the way."

                                            >"Oh, thank you, it just goes on the table there. But yes, there was a magical disturbance around midnight last night and I can't seem to figure out what it was."

                                            >You set the glass on her table and turn back to her, hands in your pockets.

                                            "Got anything else to go on other than 'something weird'?"

                                            >"Uhh, peculiar? Unusual? Unheard-of?"

                                            "Mmm nope, not helping."

                                            >"Hah, well like I said," she cocks her head, eyes drifting off to the side in thought, "a bit confused over here right now."

                                            "Well I'm not really a magical guy, so I can't help, I'm afraid."

                                            >"Oh shush, you're plenty magical."

                                            "Ahh, flattery will get you nowhere, Twi."

                                            >"Darn," she says with a good-natured chuckle, "maybe next-time."

                                            >She lets out a yawn and stretches; you hear a few pops.

                                            >"I don't get it, Anon. I know my magic, but this is something new."

                                            "You'll get there," you shrug, "you always do."

                                            >"Thanks," she smiles wearily, and looks outside her window, "yikes, what time is it anyway? I kinda lost track."

                                            "Time for breakfast, I imagine."

                                            >A smell wafts past your nose and it wrinkles.

                                            "And a shower, probably."

                                            >"Hey, this is my house, I'll smell as bad as I want", she laughs.

                                            >You start heading for the stairs as you speak.

                                            "Gotta swing by Dash's to ask about the weather, need me to ask her anything?"

                                            >"Uhh, sure, actually you can; can you ask her if she saw anything weird last night? I know its vague, but I still have no idea what sort of magic I'm dealing with here. Just sort of grasping at straws right now. If she's seen anything weird I'm sure she'll say."

                                            "Alrighty then. See you later, Twi."


                                            >As you walk through Ponyville on your way to Rainbow Dash's place, you twist your head this way and that to look at your surroundings.

                                            >Plenty of normal sounds around; ponies talking and going about their business, a soft breeze pushing down some of the more wind-trapping alleyways.

                                            >But you're struck by the lack of birdsong.

                                            >Normally Ponyville plays host to a lovely arrangement; makes quite a nice thing to wake up to in a morning.

                                            >But today there's nothing.

                                            >You pass a trio of birds sat on a fence.

                                            >They're all staring right at you.

                                            >Give them a mock salute and address them as you pass.

                                            "Morning, birdies. Nothing to sing today?"

                                            >They say nothing, and instead continue to stare.

                                            >You don't let it bother you.

                                            >More important things to worry about than birds.


                                            >"Anything weird?"

                                            "That's what she said."

                                            >Rainbow Dash hums and taps her chin with a hoof.

                                            >"I mean I saw Cloud Kicker licking a cloud the other day, but then again I see her do that a lot so it's not exactly weird at this point."

                                            "Think Twi meant more on the magical side of things."

                                            >"Uhh, no, not really."

                                            "Figured I'd ask. So anyway I'm here about the weather--"

                                            >"Hey, actually, yeah, there was one thing."

                                            >She purses her lips and thinks.

                                            >"Fluttershy was acting weird yesterday."

                                            >You give her a flat look.

                                            >"Uhh, well, weirder than usual."

                                            "Right."

                                            >"Hey, she only turned weird after you showed up, don't look at me. You're the one that made her go all baby-crazy."

                                            "All I did was move into town."

                                            >"Chyeah, and she went nuts because of it, thanks for breaking my friend."

                                            "I reckon she was always crazy; I just brought it out of her."

                                            >Rainbow shrugs.

                                            >"Yeah, probably. Still, preferred when she wasn't asking me for favours all the time to get you to sleep with her. You should do that, by the way."

                                            "Never."

                                            >She shrugs again.

                                            >"Then I guess she'll keep acting crazy. Mares, Anon; when we want a stallion we go loopy. I did it; Rarity did it; Pinkie does it every other week."

                                            >Rainbow looks over her shoulder, then back to you.

                                            >"Honestly? We kind of expect Twilight to be next."

                                            "Twilight? Go crazy? No, perish the thought."

                                            >"You say that, but you don't know what it's like. Dunno what human girls are like, but ponies need to rut--"

                                            "Alright, that's enough of that. So you were saying Fluttershy was acting weirder than usual?"

                                            >"Oh yeah; she went to the hardware store and bought paint. Then she locked herself in her house all day. Wouldn't come out when I stopped by to say hi."

                                            "...And that's weird to you?"

                                            >"Hey, Fluttershy doesn't paint. And weird as she is at least she goes out a lot; hiding inside with paint isn't her thing."

                                            >Dash thinks for a moment.

                                            >"Unless she's huffing paint now. Is huffing paint your fetish? Sorry, I gotta ask just in case so I can tell her no when I see her."

                                            "No, Dash, huffing paint isn't my fetish."

                                            >"Fair enough," she says with yet another characteristic shrug, "I knew a guy in flight school who huffed paint. Said it made him fly better."

                                            "...Right. So anyway, the weather forecast, are we set for rain on Friday? I was thinking of going camping over the weekend..."


                                            >With the weather confirmed to be clear the whole week, you stroll back home to no-doubt confront Trixie.

                                            >Why she's decided to set up on your lawn this time is something only she knows for certain, though you think it might have something to do with you heckling her show the last time she was in town.

                                            >The other ponies didn't catch the string leading from her hoof to her magic hat, but you did.

                                            >You saw the slight-of-hoof, and as an upstanding citizen it is your sovereign duty to call out shenanigans when you see them.

                                            >Though it begs a broader question as to why a pony that can cast literal magic would have any need of illusion and subterfuge.

                                            >Perhaps you can ask her during your next shouting match.

                                            >As you turn a corner and see your house, and Trixie's wagon still parked outside it, you pause.

                                            >Frowning, you look into the wooded area beside you.

                                            >The normally cheerful birds still remain to be seen, and now even the regular woodland creatures are acting odd.

                                            >You stand firm and find yourself staring straight into the eyes of a badger.

                                            >Normally shy things, this one is sat on its hind legs amidst the thick roots of a tree, and holding your gaze.

                                            >There's something off about it, besides the sudden display of courage.

                                            >You catch a squirrel perched on a nearby branch giving you the same treatment, and decide that you'd better move on.

                                            >Perhaps you may even need to consult Fluttershy about this, loathe as you are to admit it.

                                            >Maybe tomorrow.

                                            >You hurry along to your home, readying your finest linguistic trickery and vulgar swear words to hurl at the unicorn squatting on your land.


                                            >The shouting match was a success.

                                            >Saying that implies that Trixie had packed up her wagon and left, but really it means you just had better insults than she did, to which she stormed off in a strop, and you got to walk inside with your head held high.

                                            >As it turns out, she didn't take kindly to your accusations, and took offence to you stating that she doesn't need to practice what you called 'fake magic'.

                                            >Tomorrow you'll definitely call the guards.

                                            >Right now you need to plan your camping trip and for that you'll need to figure out what you'll have to wear.

                                            >As you shuffle through your closet trying to find warm clothes and thick socks, you hear a faint knock on the door.

                                            >Trixie.

                                            >She must have thought of a retort and come to share it.

                                            >They're never any good, but you'll take any excuse to laugh at her.

                                            >You stride to the front door and open it.

                                            >And your optimism shatters.

                                            >A badger, possibly the badger you had seen before, retreats from your doorstep and scurries away.

                                            >Birds surround you; many of them sat on Trixie's wagon, many more on your fence, in nearby trees, and on the roof of your house.

                                            >All of them silent; all of them watching you.

                                            >A host of other critters - squirrels, weasels, and ferrets to name a few, are dotted in clusters around the greenery nearby.

                                            >But your attention isn't on them.

                                            >It's on the dark, mystical figure dominating the scene.

                                            >A pony, roughly eye-level with you, stands amid the horde.

                                            >Her mane is varying shades of pink and fandango, each strand glistening with a gentle luminance.

                                            >A coat of apparent-black, it is strangely highlighted with a deep jaundice where the light catches it at its edges.

                                            >Eyes of a soft, familiar teal regard you carefully.

                                            >Captured by what you must admit is a stunning beauty, you venture a statement.

                                            "...I feel like I know you."

                                            >"Of course you do." her voice has an odd edge to it, a sort of lingering ring that makes it difficult to ignore, not that you could do so anyway.

                                            >You take in the mane, the coat, the animals, and finally, the eyes.

                                            >Take a step back when the realisation hits you.

                                            "Fluttershy...?" you manage, breathlessly.

                                            >She smiles.

                                            >"Good afternoon, Anonymous."

                                            >Her wings slowly unfurl, extending to their full span and driving home the magnificence of her new form.

                                            >"Is making a dark bargain and attaining power to rival Celestia herself your fetish?"

                                            >You stare at her long and hard, contemplating the unknown, frightening abilities this new version of your normally weak and manageable tormentor could possess.

                                            >Then finally:

                                            "No. No it's not."

                                            >She sags, the energy sucked out of the moment.

                                            >"Really...? But I worked really hard on this!"

                                            >You fold your arms with a huff.

                                            "I'm sure you did, but unless you can make Trixie here vacate my lawn, I'm neither impressed, nor inclined to accept your advances."

                                            >She scowls.

                                            >"Fine."

                                            >She looks at the wagon and focuses on it.

                                            >All at the same time, every animal in the area descends on the wagon in a frenzy.

                                            >It rocks violently as the sheer number of animals that emerge from the nearby trees and shrubs hoist the vehicle upon the back of the teeming mass, and carry it off your garden, leaving only the indents of the wheels behind.

                                            >As the wagon is carried, one of its windows bursts open.

                                            >"What is the meaning of this?! Gah! Who are you?! Where are you taking Trixie?!"

                                            >"To the forest," Fluttershy replies simply, "you will not bother my beloved anymore."

                                            >"This is preposterous! You cannot move me! I am great! And powerful!"

                                            >She ducks back inside, rustles around for a moment, then bursts out the back door.

                                            >Leaping over the swarm of critters, birds, and other animals that are carrying her wagon, she stands before Fluttershy, who now towers over her.

                                            >"I chal-- I mean, Trixie challenges you to a duel!"

                                            >She waves a novelty wand at Fluttershy, and a bunch of flowers pops out of the end.

                                            >"Have at you!"

                                            >Fluttershy looks back at you.

                                            >You shrug.

                                            >She looks back at Trixie.

                                            >Whose wand then disintegrates into petals and vines.

                                            >The unicorn watches, dumbfounded, as her toy is reduced to pure nature.

                                            >She hastily drops it and swallows.

                                            >"A mere distraction - hiya!"

                                            >Smoke erupts all around the area as Trixie hurls a hoof-ful of smoke bombs about her.

                                            >When the smoke clears, Fluttershy's body is bound in colourful ribbons.

                                            >Trixie stands before her, panting and striking a pose.

                                            >"Tah-- ta-daaah! Now immobilised, you cannot possibly overcome Trixie!"

                                            >Fluttershy simply waits as the ribbons become dandelion seeds and drift away with the wind.

                                            >Trixie clicks her tongue.

                                            >"Okay. How about, uh, this?"

                                            >She half-heartedly throws a rubber chicken at Fluttershy.

                                            >You're impressed that she pulled it out of nowhere, but less so with the effect it's having on the duel.

                                            >Fluttershy catches the chicken and slides it into her mane.

                                            >An actual chicken re-emerges, coos, and flaps away to go and peck at the ground.

                                            >Trixie watches it go.

                                            >Then huffs.

                                            >"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."

                                            >The mare's horn flares, and a slat of wood you had leaned against your house from a previous project soars towards Fluttershy.

                                            >Said pony makes no attempt to move, even as the wood bludgeons the side of her head with considerable force.

                                            >You wince, then notice that Fluttershy didn't even flinch.

                                            >The wood drops onto the grass, and Trixie clasps her hooves over her mouth in shock.

                                            >"Oh my-- Are you alright?! I only meant to scare you! I'm so sorry! Did that hurt? Oh my stars I'm so sorry!"

                                            >Rather than answer, Fluttershy glances down at the plank of wood.

                                            >You all watch as termites emerge from within and reduce the entire plank to mulch, and then dust, in a matter of seconds, leaving nothing left as the termites disperse into the grass.

                                            >Fluttershy looks up at Trixie with a small smile laced with intent.

                                            >Trixie backs away, looking nervously at you.

                                            >"Uhh, Anonymous? We um, we're fine, right? You and I? The wagon thing was just a joke, haha, you know how it is?"

                                            "Right, sure, it was a joke," you nod in agreement, "no reason to hurt her, right Fluttershy?"

                                            >Fluttershy gazes lovingly at you for a moment, then back to Trixie.

                                            >And in the space of a few seconds, with a strangled scream from the unicorn, transmogrifies her into a tree.

                                            "JESUS!" you recoil in terror.

                                            >Fluttershy giggles.

                                            >"You know, I remember when -I- wanted to be a tree."

                                            "What did you do?! You just moved her, right? Trixie's still around somewhere?"

                                            >"Oh no, she's gone now. Won't be able to bother you anymore. Besides! Now you have a lovely tree to take care of, isn't that nice?"

                                            "Fluttershy, what the hell have you done? How are you doing this?"

                                            >"I told you; I made a dark bargain."

                                            "But why? And how?"

                                            >"Why? Because I adore you. I adore you so much I am willing to damn my soul for an eternity just to be with you."

                                            >Then after a few seconds.

                                            >"As to how, I um, I got a book from Twilight's bargain bin."

                                            "Ah, fair play, I've found some pretty good stuff in there as well," you muse, "but still! You've killed Trixie!"

                                            >"She's not dead; she's just a tree now. I bet she's a lot happier about it too, isn't that right, Trixie?"

                                            >She looks at the tree.

                                            >You glance at it as well.

                                            >Its leaves rustle in the breeze.

                                            >"Trixie says yes."

                                            "You can't talk to trees, Fluttershy."

                                            >"Um. Yes I can. She says she's much happier this way, and that she's sorry she squatted on your land. Also she said you should let me inside so we can explore each other's bodies."

                                            >...

                                            "You can't talk to trees, can you."

                                            >"No..."

                                            "So there -are- things you can't do, then."

                                            >"I can do most things. Watch!"

                                            >She squints at you, then smiles.

                                            >You grimace as you feel a lot colder around your legs and waist.

                                            >Looking down, you confirm that your pants had been turned into leaves, which drift away on the breeze leaving your bottom-half only wearing underpants.

                                            "Damn."

                                            >"Oh my~."

                                            "Well I won't stand for this, I'm going to find Twilight. She'll know what to do about all this nonsense."

                                            >"W-wait! Why not just stay here with me? Do you have any idea what I had to do to even accomplish this?!"

                                            "Read a book?"

                                            >"I sold my soul!"

                                            "Can you get a refund?"

                                            >"No!"

                                            "Well I think that's more your fault for not reading the fine-print."

                                            >"But I saw things, Anon! I -saw- things!"

                                            "I've also seen things, but I don't go around turning people into trees now, do I?"

                                            >The mare whines in protest.

                                            "You know, for some sort of demi-god, you sure do suck at being one."

                                            >"I-I, ohh, just you wait, mister, when I figure out what exactly I can do with all this, I'll make you mine."

                                            "See, that's the thing, I reckon you're plenty powerful enough to claim me as you are right now, but you just lack the confidence to actually go through with it."

                                            >Fluttershy's eyes shift left and right.

                                            "Am I wrong?"

                                            >She gulps.

                                            "There we are. As always, your bafflingly low sense of self-esteem is your undoing, Fluttershy. I suppose even gods have to have their weaknesses."

                                            >With that, you step past her and head towards the middle of town to speak to Twilight.


                                            >Twilight looks at you with a very worried expression.

                                            >Then looks over at Fluttershy with an even more worried expression.

                                            >You're all sat at Twilight's table in her little kitchen.

                                            >Fluttershy is a bit too big for her stool, but she's trying her best to stay perched on it without toppling over.

                                            >Twilight carefully speaks.

                                            >"So you're telling me you woke up like this and have no idea how it happened."

                                            >"Yes," replies Fluttershy.

                                            >"And it definitely had nothing to do with the book of ancient and terrible rituals from the Bleak Epoch that you bought from me for three bits.

                                            >"Two and a half."

                                            >"Right."

                                            >"No, nothing to do with that at all."

                                            >"Uh... huh."

                                            >Twilight squints at Fluttershy, who sweats nervously under her gaze.

                                            >It looks downright silly, seeing a small unicorn like Twilight give a mare as large and regal-looking as Celestia a good once-over.

                                            >"I'm gonna say that that's wrong, and that this has everything to do with the book."

                                            >Fluttershy sighs.

                                            >"How did you know?"

                                            >Twilight watches a wandering housefly drift into Fluttershy's mane, and emerge from it a beautiful metalmark butterfly.

                                            >"Just a hunch."

                                            "So can you do anything to fix her? She said something about her soul not being refundable."

                                            >"Well if she made a magical bargain there's not a whole lot we can do about that. Did you read the fine-print, Fluttershy?"

                                            >"There wasn't a fine-print..."

                                            >"See, that's just irresponsible."

                                            >"I asked if I needed to sign anything, if that helps."

                                            >"And did you?"

                                            >"No?"

                                            >Twilight throws up her hooves.

                                            >Fluttershy meekly fumbles with her front hooves, which are now immaculate and glisten under the harsh glow of Twilight's kitchen lights.

                                            >"Sorry Twilight..."

                                            >"Look, just don't go around making deals with shady characters, again."

                                            >"'Shady' is kind of an understatement..."

                                            "Is there nothing we can do here, Twi? No ritual we could do to reverse the effects? She turned Trixie into a tree, man."

                                            >"Like an actual tree, or a metaphorical tree?"

                                            "The blue hell is a 'metaphorical tree'?"

                                            >"Uhh--"

                                            "A real one. It was horrifying."

                                            >"Maybe she just teleported her, or something."

                                            "I dunno Twi, Trixie was screaming pretty loud back there."

                                            >Twilight shrugs helplessly.

                                            >"As I said to you earlier, I have no idea what kind of magic this even is. I'm completely in the dark, here."

                                            >"You know nothing of the dark, Twilight."

                                            "Stop trying to sound ominous, Fluttershy, it doesn't work when you do it."

                                            >"...Sorry..."

                                            >Your purple friend sighs and faceplants the kitchen table.

                                            >"I hate not knowing what to do..."

                                            "Maybe the solution will be a simple one; you never know?"

                                            >As you speak, you hear the front door slam open.

                                            >"Hey Twi? You in here?" the voice of Rainbow Dash carries into the kitchen.

                                            >The mare in question trots through the door a moment later, heading straight for the fridge and not looking at any of you.

                                            >"Hey guys, how's it going." she grunts in passing.

                                            >She grabs an apple sarsaparilla from Twilight's fridge and takes a swig, finally noticing the scene at the table.

                                            >"Woah. You guys look miserable."

                                            >She takes a seat, then gives Fluttershy a long hard look.

                                            >"...That you, Shy?"

                                            >"Yes?" comes the response.

                                            >"Huh."

                                            >Dash takes another sip.

                                            >"So yeah, paint isn't Anon's fetish either, by the way. Thought you might want to know."

                                            >Fluttershy sighs.

                                            >"Darn it, that was going to be my next guess..."

                                            "Got any remedies for god-hood, Rainbow?"

                                            >"I dunno. You tried sleeping with her yet?"

                                            "No."

                                            >"What about cinnamon?"

                                            "...What -about- cinnamon?"

                                            >"Well back when I was in flight school - you remember that guy that huffed paint?"

                                            "Yeah?"

                                            >"He did a challenge where he had to eat a mouthful of cinnamon and swallow it."

                                            "And?"

                                            >"He sneezed so hard he changed gender."

                                            "That's not... that's not a thing, Dash."

                                            >"Woah, I swear on my -wings- that's what happened. First he was an ordinary paint-huffing stallion, next thing you know he's going around calling himself Lightning Dust."

                                            >You all look at Twilight.

                                            >She regards Rainbow Dash with a tired, fed-up expression.

                                            >Then, she shrugs again, exasperated.

                                            >"Stuff it; not like I have any brighter ideas."


                                            "Okay, so on three."

                                            >"I-I'm not sure about this, guys," Fluttershy regards the spoon, floating in Twilight's levitation, with abject fear, "I don't want to be a stallion!"

                                            "You'll be fine, Fluttershy, this is just a test."

                                            >Rainbow Dash pats her oversized friend on the back, "If nothing else, it'll be totally awesome."

                                            >Fluttershy smiles weakly.

                                            >Twilight gestures with the spoon, heaped high with cinnamon from Spike's personal spice rack.

                                            >"Ready?"

                                            >Fluttershy nods shakily.

                                            "One, two, three--"

                                            >Twilight stuffs the spoon into her friend's mouth.

                                            >Fluttershy swallows the whole thing.

                                            >She blinks once, after which her eyes start watering.

                                            >Her jaw opens, and she lets out a warbling wail.

                                            >Hooves flapping at her side, she doesn't know what to do with herself, so she just sits and cries for a few seconds, eyes streaming and voice getting progressively more warped.

                                            >And finally, with near-apocalyptic force, she sneezes.

                                            >So hard is the sneeze, that the table before her is obliterated; blasted against the wall and shattered to pieces.

                                            >Yourself, Twilight, and Rainbow, are all sent reeling backwards, ears ringing from the deafening blast that emerged from Fluttershy's snout.

                                            >The mare herself is launched backwards, a cloud of cinnamon and what appears to be thick smoke blanketing the room in a haze.

                                            >You lie in a daze on the ground.

                                            >After a moment of staring at the ceiling, you stagger to your feet, surveying the damage done to the kitchen.

                                            >Everything is covered in a thin layer of cinnamon dusting and a black soot-ish substance.

                                            >The table's a write-off; the chairs are splinters, a few of which are actually lodged in your body, and your companions seem to be in great pain.

                                            >None more so than Fluttershy, who drags herself off the floor, hooves trembling.

                                            >She prods her now normal face, and looks down at her regular yellow body.

                                            >The mare looks at you in shock.

                                            >You can't find the words to say, so you look to Twilight.

                                            >Twilight, looking absolutely furious, glares at Rainbow Dash, who simply nods as though this was entirely expected.

                                            >"Told you it would work," the pegasus states bluntly.

                                            >"How," Twilight begins, "the HECK was that going to work? What do you know that I don't?!"

                                            >She grabs her friend's shoulders and begins shaking her violently and screaming; trying to pry the secrets of the arcane from a mare who doesn't even know what 'arcane' means.

                                            >You rub your head and return to Fluttershy, who is looking at her own body in disbelief.

                                            "So? How do you feel?"

                                            >"I-I feel... umm... fine."

                                            "That's good, right?"

                                            >"Kind of?"

                                            "You miss being a god? Don't worry, Fluttershy, I'm sure everyone goes through something like this at some point," you sniff, "probably."

                                            >"..."

                                            "Come on, you'll get over it."

                                            >"No, it's not that... Um. Can you do something for me?"

                                            "What's that?"

                                            >She rubs a hoof on her face and frowns, then glances down again at her body, poking herself.

                                            >"From now on... could you please call me Butterscotch?"

                                            >...

                                            "Oh."

                                            >...

                                            "Oh no."

                                            >Before you can continue, the cupboard doors under Twilight's sink explode open, and Trixie emerges, spitting out a wad of leaves and covered in twigs, lichen, and bits of bark; the mare caught between sobs and sheer fury.

                                            >"WHERE. WHERE IN THE -HELLS- DID I JUST GO."


                                            The End.

                                            Impromptu sequel: https://ponepaste.org/3764