https://pastebin.com/GNP9EePY https://ponepaste.org/1176 Is related to that. May contain spoilers. Part 1 From [Part 27] (Possible omake? Semi canon) >That's... when did Fancy have personal chefs? Since, she got them? They may be on call, and this is a big day. >ah, might have also have not brought them to not ruin the mother, daughter bonding. That too. >nine chefs? That seems to be a bit excessive. >Wow. They have some serious trust in each other. We're impressed. (Tf2 inspired not quite, but close.) >"Hey, dis is tha boss' new filly." >I can't place that accent. "Hello." >"Hurda hurda hurrr." >that's a dragon. A fricking dragon. Wearing a fire retardant suit. >How did I not Notice a Dragon? >"Aye, lass it's good to meet yah." >"Da leetle baby grow up big, and strong." >"Where is that Fruit Salad Ladies?! The other team is almost done!" Other team? >"Ya'll better start prayin'." Is that shooting marshmallows? >It's targeting the other team. I want that. >"There you are Occult. It's best to leave the professionals to their work." >This is why Fancy Pants has two sets of kitchens facing each other. >It's now a full blown food fight. It's brutal. If this wasn't pony land I would say someone would get seriously harmed. >"Medic!" >"I am Charged!" >"I think not." >"Ahhh!" >A lollipop. >"They are pushing the Cart!" >It has an appetising bowl of fruit. Some seared. Others a sauce, and some in chunks. Delicately placed with a flower on the rim of the plate with silver ware to either side. >"One eyed cyclops!" "What is even going on here?" >"Breakfast my dear. Breakfast." Part 2 From Before the start leading to the start. Pre-canon. [s] Ignore this bit. [It's as canon as Anonymous wants it to be. (I'm thinking this entire work is entirely connected through the Mother's Day Prompt. An interconnected set of stories.]) Authors note: 'Canonicaly' this story is a story for the multiple Anonymous namefags, and others gets turned into a filly. Related stories set in the OccultFaçade story are welcome.[/s] >>221119 >Be Fancy Pants. >I'm walking down the street. Celestia's light lowering from the sky. A clear sky. Unlike my emotions. >The hard stone underneath my hooves. A reminder of why I'm going. >A small frown for an instant. An ear flicker. Reseting to a neutral expression. I don't need reporters snooping into this delicate situation. I'm worried. >Fleur is slightly more absent than she normally is. She's always a little self absorbed, but not this much. >Not Leaning, or Posing on top of me that much anymore. Not satisfying to me. In any case she is my friend. >I have to find out what's going on. >Her home is... cozy compared to mine. No gates either. She does have bushes, and a yard. No statues, no water features, no detailed custom inscibed path, and no rare plant life. No room for sky yachts. Such a rudimentary existence. >Walking to her home, on the plain path, I knock on her cozy door. I hear voices inside. One younger than the other. >Fleur opens the door. Revealing a home that is as snug as the outside depicts. There is no three floors, and a three basement levels. I've been here multiple times. It still doesn't feel right. What's this? >A little green filly in a maid outfit hiding behind her. Eyes, and posture both in defeat, and shame. >"Fancy Pants! I wasn't expecting you my friend. Please come inside." "It's good to see you Fleur, and who is the little filly all dressed up?" >Said filly blushes more, and a little bit more shame creeps in. There is something else in those eyes. She looks back at the floor. Some of the postures don't add up. Can't quite tell what isn't right. >"This is my new filly, Anonymous." >My voice drops an insignificant amount. Posture adjusted. Ears in the best position. My friend not even telling me about her foal? She will pick it up though. "Fleur... you never told me you had a foal of your own." >Her eyes widen slightly. Both Fleur, and Anonymous. One with a smidgen of hope. >Hope? In the filly? Bizarre posture. Maid outfit. Shame. Slight blush. Not telling me at all? >Oh! Oh no. What did she do. >"Fancy, I-" >I give her a look. >She is speechless. Her posture is crumbling, and I can see through her. She's hiding something. Possibly something important. "How about you Anonymous? Do you like it here? Do you want something to be different?" >If the worst has happened I'll do what I can. I step foward on the mediocre carpet. My monocle catches the final rays of Celestia's Sun. Even if she is my friend. >That's why I'm here at the orphanage. The wall paper is slightly old. Tables, chairs, flooring marked with age. Foals playing, the caretakers with soft smiles watching them. Is this how all the common pony live? >I'll get my own foal. Just perhaps they will satisfy my dark cravings. Cracks in my self control. Eventually I will break. I have my list of reasons ready. >The Anonymous foals. The proclaimed Anonfillies. I will have one of my own. Even Princess Twilight, and Princess Celestia has one. >Everypony is so helpful for finding such a filly. How many of these aliens have made it here? Walking, and asking a few questions. Smiles, and small small bits of envy is evident, a too hard of a swishing tail, and the middle back tensing. A relaxation of that one foal might be gone. >There she is. >The Question Mark evident on her flank is the final proof of identity. The expressions are just wrong. Conflicting. Discordant. Chaotic. No wonder they are glad she'll be gone. Raises the fur nearly to a chill. No wonder nopony would adopt this one. >That will change. "You are Anonymous, yes?" >"I am, ma'am." "Good, your peers say you are an adult male alien inside a filly. That interests me. I am sure you won't disappoint in interesting conversation." >She looks slightly stunned. The rest of her body is an unknown. >I readjust my monocle. Still strangely unpony like. I'll continue. "You would deter some seeking my hoof in marriage, be more self-sufficient than other foals, assure my clients is in good hooves if anything happens, a possible mentor and guide if I actually have foals of my own, and more regular meetings with the princesses." >I pause to let my words sink in. "In return you will have a home, with many luxuries. An education on almost anything you desire. A place to be yourself. Most things in this world within reach." >"What should I call you Lady Pants?" >I did not expect her to just agree so easily. "Whatever you want, when not in a formal setting as long as I don't disagree to it. Mother, in formal meetings." >I hold my hoof out for a shake. >Her face displays such concentration. Almost hidden to the untrained eye. I can read her like a book. Everything else though is foreign or a scrambled mess. >She shakes my hoof. It's a proper hoof shake. >For a filly of her physique. >"Where do we start Mother?" >Asking me for what to do first? Not to make the demand to have her say goodbye? Is this a test? Is it a sign of good faith? "Saying goodbye before hoof is in order." >This will change my life, forever. Perhaps I might find something more. Something I buried deep down.