A Beautiful Sun

>You are the face of Equestria.
>You rule with your sister by your side, two princesses without a prince.
>Well, to be honest, you're the only one without a prince.
>Your sister found a special somepony a while ago.
>He's a nice stallion.
>You think his name was--
>An earth-shattering boom rocked the throne room as a strange creature is suddenly there.
>As you regain your hearing, you hear something about some "John Connor"
>He's a...
>Well...
>You aren't sure what he is.
>You only think it's a he from the dangling appendage hanging for his midsection.
>Stop looking at that.
>Stop it.
>Stooop.
>...
>Okay, another glance couldn't hurt.
>He's in a weird position.
>One hoof is on his back leg in a half-crouch like stance.
>The other in almost embedded in the palace floor.
>He(?) turns to look at you, and it feels like he's staring straight into your soul.
>And holy you, you think you like it.

>You are Anon.
>And today is your birthday.
>You were hanging out with some friends at the pool, being an all around idiot like you do.
>Key word there was “were”
>Because, as you jumped into the pool, doing your best Ahhnold Swollenpecker impersonation, you were suddenly somewhere you didn’t want to be.
>Well, not that you didn’t want to be.
>More like
>Somewhere you didn’t think existed outside of a fucking kids show.
>Yeah. That fits.
>As the water rose up to meet you, a faint shimmer caught your eye, as if the water suddenly had another layer of reflectivity.
>Huh.
>The water feels a lot less wet that normal.
>And the bottom of the pool looks a lot like a castle.
>And there’s a nice wind on your—
>OH FUCK THAT’S A CASTLE BRACE FOR IMPACT

>Fuck it.
>Might as well see it through.
>If you play your cards right, you'll only die looking semi-autistic.
>Smashing through the roof, you find you barely feel the impact.
>Apparently your brace levels are higher than you thought.
>All that’s audible over the marble being crushed is “…John Connor.”
>Still smooth as fuck.
>Why is everything suddenly so breezy?
>Surveying your surroundings, you realize you’re in the presence of what looks to be royalty.
>You start to bow when it hits you.
>WAIT A FUCKING SECOND THESE ARE PONIES
>And one of them seems to be staring at you.
>You wonder why.
>Being polite, you return the eye contact.
>The pony in question exudes an air of regality.
>And you smell something slight musky in the air.
>Hang on.
>She’s not looking at your eyes.
>You follow her gaze down.
>Jesus nigger on a cracker in a basket of baby kittens on top of a bottle of vodka, you’re naked.
>Your jimmies are officially rustled.
>Permission to expand?
>Denied. Return to cryosleep, dong.
>Fuck you and your rules. Expanding anyway.
>Your gaze remains on her eyes, pokerfacing with the best of them as dong goes against orders and assumes direct control.
>Moving area of influence. Legs now under control.
>CAN NO ONE QUELL THIS MUTINY?
>None shall best me. Pancreas, you are now mine.
>Glaigh nmphf hrungnr
>Glad to hear it.
>Walking toward the one with a sun tattooed on her, you raise a hand to her against your will.
>Dong is reaching critical mass now.
>Now only a few steps away, you brush your hand against her cheek, watching as it flushes red.
>Immediately you’re thrown and pinned to the ground as several identical looking other ponies with glowing horns circle around you.
>The large white one cries out to stop them as they drag you off to Tran knows where.

>You awaken some time later in a haze, not entirely sure of recent events.
>Upon trying to move your arms, there’s the telltale rattling of chains.
>The same could be said for your legs.
>Opening your eyes, you can see you’re in a dimly lit cell.
>Fucking great.
>You have no way to tell what time it is.
>At least you have a pillow and a blanket.
>What feels like hours go by before you hear anything that sounds like someone coming.
>You look to your cell door, only to see the white horse from earlier.
>Thankfully the dong overlord has gone back into his slumber.
>And it’s at this point you realize you have the worst headache ever.
>It feels like someone is driving hot nails, covered in salt and lemon juice with a nice side of hot chili oil to go over the top.

>Whether it was the adrenaline from plummeting to almost certain death, or just inattention, you failed to notice the horrendous pain in your skull.
>It feels like it was shattered into a million pieces.
>You cry out in pain, and the white horse immediately moves to your side.
>Her horn lights up and a sense of calm washes over you.
>You don’t know what it is about her, but she makes you feel safe.
>Only slightly tainted by the fact that you’re still naked, and she’s staring at your junk again.
>As you slowly try to get up, Anon Jr. meets no resistance in his attempt to do the same.
>Her pupils shrink to pinpricks and she starts to drool a bit.
>A fresh wave of pain brings you back to reality, as another scream escapes your throat.
>As if snapped out of a trance, the horse moves to your head, trying to put her horn on it.
>You struggle against your chains, only serving to cause tidal wave after tidal wave of agony to cascade throughout your being.
>As she makes contact, you cease. You feel like you’re floating.
>Your vision grows black and you finally succumb to the sweet release of unconsciousness.
>…
>…
>Another horse, this time a regal-looking blue colored one, meets you in the vast, dark expanse that is your mind.
>”Fear us not, strange creature. We wish you no harm. We come here to tell you…”
>That floating feeling again.
>Interspersed with a voice calling out to someone or something.
>”Ca. .ou h.ar us? It… akin… ister…”
>”Follow my voice.”
>It was the most soothing voice to ever grace your ears.
>Immediately you felt safe again.
>For some reason this land didn’t feel so strange anymore.
>Somehow it felt like it was where you belong.
>Almost like it was…
>Home.

>You are controller of the sun.
>And your sister is currently trying to get past you.
>”Sister, you must let us see the furless one. We must make sure he is not dangerous, if it is even a ‘he’.”
“Trust me Lulu, it is most definitely a ‘he’.”
>You catch yourself drooling a bit at that, remembering just how firm he looked.
>Your little ponies are squishy, so a nice, strong, toned male is exactly what you need.
>Buck, given enough time, you could shape him into king material.
>Then nopony would question your claim to the throne.
>In healing him, you exposed just enough magic to his system to keep him functioning indefinitely.
>Perfect.
>He would be yours, and you weren’t about to let your sister steal him like before…
>You don’t really like remembering that time.
>The sun stayed below the horizon for days.
>But all that’s changed! You’re a different mare now.
>A mare with a hyooman coltfriend.

>You are Anon again.
>And you are still stuck in the dungeon.
>On the bright side, WhiteHorse as you’ve started calling it, has been visiting you.
>The two of you talk. She keeps saying her name is Celestia, but you like Whitehorse better.
>You tried calling her Sunbutt once.
>Her legs started shaking, and she licked your face for some reason.
>Never doing that again.

”What in Equestria do you think you’re doing?”
>“Moving the hyooman to a place where he would feel more welcome, dear Tia.”
>But he needs to stay in the dungeon, where he can’t run away—Hurt anypony! Where he can’t hurt anypony!”
>Luna eyes you suspiciously, but stays her course, moving him to her private bedchambers in a most undignified manner.
>He is asleep, on her back and secured by a blue aura of magic.
>You can’t help but think she’s touching his body underneath the fabric.
>Her magic, feeling all around his form… Touching his soft skin, rubbing him from his chest all the way down to his…
>Your thoughts trail off and come to an abrupt halt when you realize you’re drooling all over the hall, your sister nowhere in sight.

>You are Luna.
>And hyoomans feel nice on your back.
>You should do this more often.
>Your magic forms tendrils, which you use to explore his physique.
>No wonder Tia likes him. He feels so ni—
>Yep, definitely a “he.”
>You haven’t seen her this head-over-hooves in a long time.
“Just what is so alluring about you?”
>”Where the hell am I?”
>The response startles you. You didn’t feel him shift as he woke up.
“You are on your way to our royal chamber. We thought you would enjoy a change in scenery.”
>”We? You mean you and Sunbutt?”
>You stop, blushing at him knowing the nickname you gave your sister in a more… experimental stage in your life.
“N-no. It is the royal we. We use it when addressing ourselves. We forget it can be confusing for somepony not as versed in royal etiquette.”
>”Makes sense, I guess. But why do I feel tingles all over my body?”
“Er, well, we were merely—Here we are, the royal bedchambers!”
>You lift him off your back, risking one more quick feel of his body before setting him in a chair.
>He doesn’t seem to have noticed.
>Perfect.