Shadow Grove's Husbando Summoning SNAFU (WIP)

[Prompt]
>you are inexplicably the husbando of a qt mare.
>she executes a shady summoning ritual she found on the scrollnet to summon you through the aether.
>she was skeptical since it even said it waived the usual high sacrifice requiered for such feats, usually magic but rarely blood or even life.
>but it seemed to work so she was happily waiting while the rune circle finished its work.
>she stopped being happy when you appeared in the circle, screaming and twitching in obvious pain.
>turns out the ritual was an esoteric 'prank' from an ancient dark wizard which simply front loaded the required sacrifice onto the target and created a new body for them on location.
>when the ritual started every cell of your body began accumulating energy until they were glowing red hot and vibrating.
>that same energy keeping itself contained as it rose to an explosive climax, showering your vicinity in bloody gore even as your spirit flung itself to equestria.
>naturally, the experience was not a pleasant one, the aftershocks of the pain involved staying with you even in your new pony body.
>poorly cordinated, confused and wracked with pain that makes your limbs twitch and tremble, you can barely make out and hear the form of a mare fretfully asking what went wrong and trying to help you.


[Green]
>Shadow Grove is your name.
>Boy, oh boy, did you mess up this time.
>You trot in place, scanning your shelves for any books that could help your husbando.
>His screams are not helping.
>Like, at all.
"Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh, what do I do what do I do!?"
>This is the last time you're ever going to perform a spell fished from the Stacks.
>You grab, scan, and fling books behind you with your magic, desperate for a spell that will make your new coltfriend stop writhing in painーaha!
"Okay, okay, okay, hold on! Please hold on."
>Rough-cut beige pages flap in the wind of your magic as you land preciseーone more pageーly where you mean to!
>A deep sleep spell!
>It's good for dissection.
>You wince at the thought, magic coursing through you as you prepare the spell.
"Cripes, this better work..."
>An orange blanket burritos your husbando, binding kicking limbs and nuzzling snout to neck. You rock him, and he falls asleep.
>You plop on your rump and catch up on all of the breathing you missed out on.
"Oh, Shadow, what have you gotten yourself into?"

===

>You hurt.
>You're wrong.
>You're cocooned.
>"Ah!"
>Something shifts your field of view. Everything's distorted, bleary, bright.
>A blob blocks the worst of the light, and your ear movesーit fucking /moves/ーto better hear a cheery, crooning voice murmur, "You're awake. Are you okay? Does it hurt?"
>Everything hurts, you want to say.
>You want to tell her you're in some sort of restraint and it's like your body is covered in hair being rubbed the wrong way.
>You can't feel your arms.
>Oh god you can't feel your arms.
"SKRIIIII!"
>Where are your fingers? Why can't you move your freakishly long neck? Why is your nose so big?
>Why are there fingers below your shoulder blades.
>Fingers and toes. Somebody amputated your fingers and toes and had them sewn to your back.
>You try to twist, kick, flex, do anything to free yourself.
>Yet, your thrashing does nothing to budge the binding.
>"Calm down, please! Please, please, please calm down?"
>Your muscles are spasming and cramping, knots doubling down on delivering pain.
>Someone is snorting in your face and you need air.
>Oh god, you can't get enough air.
>Your lungs have shrunk and your nose is being held against your neck.
>You smash your eyelids shut and pry them open, but the dark shape isn't coming into focus at all.
"SKRIII! SKRIIIIIKIKIKIII!!"
>"Oh, what did I do? What do I do? What /can/ I do?"
>The blob removes itself from your vision and the blotch-daubed canvas of the world is again searing white pain.
>Your earーearSーfollow the sound again, rotating to follow the noise of what sounds like a goddamn horse pacing in place.
>Did you get brain damaged?
>Are you in a coma right now?
>"Uhmmmm～ here!"
>You can't be in a coma. You have work tomorrow.
>fwipfwipfwip "Focus, Shadow Grove, focus, focus."
>You're still thrashing. Your muscles are on fire. Your lungs are on fire. Everything is on fire.
>"C... carve, castra-ew, no. Choke, clot, comーCommand!"
>Your mind goes back to a memory of middle school.
>Travis, the droopy-eyed asshole that sat behind you, rubbed a cheap ballpoint on his desk for half a minute, then stabbed you in the neck with it.
>It burned a lot. You still have the scar.
>Right now it's like an entire classroom of Travis' are running burning ballpoints over every inch of whatever you are right now.
>Wait, the bindings are gone.
>You can move!
>You caー
>"Halt!"
>You halt.
>Why are you listening to a stranger?
>"Calm down!"
>Well, you guess it doesn't matter.
>You're still aching, but there's nothing you can do about that.
>You have no idea what's going on.
>And freaking out isn't going to do any good.
>You're probably just going to hurt yourself.
>If you thrash in a coma, do you thrash in real life?
>What if you pull your life support out?
>Shit, you can't afford life support.
>Maybe it'd be better to go out now and not deal with the medical bills.
>You don't even have enough to pay for car insurance, you're going to be in debt for the rest of your life if you wake up from your coma.
>Does your family get saddled with the bills if you die?
>Shit, where's your phone? You need to google this.
>Oh, right, she told you not to move.
>Guess you'll just remember to google it later.
>Ha, as if you ever remember anything.
>Oh, she's talking again.
>"Oh, gosh. I'm so sorry. I, I, I didn't know /that/ was how the spell worked. I wouldn't have cast it if I knew it'd hurt you!"
>Spell? Cast?
>You have to give your coma credit, it knows exactly the kind of trashy fiction you like.
>"Uhm, I'm sorry for using Command on you, too, but I didn't know what else to do. I really, really didn't want you to hurt yourself."
>Makes sense.
"Tikesii siin."
>Maybe you had a stroke, too.
>What was the last thing you remember?
>You came home and sat at your computer.
>Stared at your thumb drive that had your final project on it for a few hours, trying to will yourself to even plug it in.
>Then you experienced the worst pain you ever felt in your life.
>Maybe you electrocuted yourself on your PSU?
>That's what you get for leaving the case lying open, you guess.
>"Can you understand me?"
"Kii."
>You blink once for good measure.
>Or is it blink twice for yes?
>It'd be rude to nod. She asked you to not move, after all.
>And she does sound sorry about the whole thing.
>You guess you should forgive her.
"Iii kaa-kiti ki."
>Close enough.
>Oh, hey, your vision is clearing.
>"Oh, I /knew/ that ritual wasn't on the up-and-up! You don't even know how to talk. You poor, poor thing..."
>You wish your coma would give you your glasses back.
>You can make out the blurred form of a dusky... pony?
>'Kay.
>A pony with a dusky coat. Her mane looks like a will-o-wisp, dull white with blue fringes that curl up and away from her face in thick, wavy locks.
>Long eyelashes flutter at the corners of barn-like eyes, both deep red and curved below upturned eyebrows, her snout scrunched with concern.
>_Damn_, that's cute.
>She offers you a smile, "Uhm, I'll end the Command spell soon, I promise, but before I do, I should tell you what happened. I think. Again, I'm super, super sorry..."
>You keep me under your spell, you keep me under your spell~...
>"So, I, uhm, I was looking for summoning rituals I could cast... and I found one. Summoning rituals are really expensive, so when I found this one, I was really, really, really excited! Because it didn't need a whole bunch of weird junk to cast..."
>"... Turns out, you had to pay that price! Ahah..a... ha..."
>The mare glances down and away from you, her ears flattening like a dog caught shitting on the living room rug.
>"And... I wanted to summon you because..."
>How is she able to blush with all of that fur?
>"It's... lonely out here. So what I thought I'd do was, I'd summon somepony to keep me company!"
>Her ears flip upright as she looks back at you, stars in her eyes.
>"And I got you!"
>She lifts up her hooves, resting them on the bed beside you. She raises one, looking at your... oh, you're a pony.
>A very fluffy pony.
>Shetland, perhaps?
>"I've never seen a bat pony before..."
>Shetland must be where bat ponies come from.
>"So... now that you know what's going on, I'm going to end the Command spell."
>"Please, please, please promise to not get mad at me?"
>"And try to stay calm?"
>How could you say no to those eyes?
"Iii."
>You blink twice this time.
>No, wait, it's once. Blinking twice feels wrong. Definitely once.
>She looks down at you, confused.
>You blink rapidly to cancel out whatever you 'said' before and blink once. Slowly, deliberately.
>"Okay! I need to concentrate..." Her cheery reply gives you a fuzzy feeling in a vague torso-ish area, one you can identify as your stomach only because it's the sort of fuzzy feeling you get when you seE A MIND RAPIST
>SHE JUST BAD-TOUCHED YOUR BRAIN
>SHE MADE YOU FEEL THINGS.
>_THINK_ THINGS.
"SKRII! SKRII! SKRIIIIIII!"
>You throw yourself away from her and make a three-bump landing on the dirt floor beside the bed.
>You knock your head against a nightstand, you think, get the wind knocked out of you when you fall onto your back-fingertoes, and then a lamp falls off the nightstand to give you symmetrical lumps.
>And the shade fell off, so you're blinded, now, too.
>Then you bang a joint when you bring your not-arm up to knock the lamp away.
>The lamp was knocked away, but you question if it was worth it. Pain shoots up your new bones.
>"AhーGah! You promised to stay calm!"
>You made me say that!
"KII EKEKEKE III!"
>You contract all of your muscles and, you think, succeed in assuming the fetal position.
>You tighten your ball when you hear the mare leap onto the bed.
>"Stay still, still. Take deep, deep, deep breaths."
>Everything is awful.
>"Please, I don't want to have to use that spell again..."
>Comas shouldn't let you experience full-body agony.
>And yet, you are.
>More and more stimulation worms its way into your awareness as your mind gropes sensory neurons to try and understand something, anything you can latch onto to ground yourself.
>You shut your eyes and concentrate. Hearing.
>Blood pounds against your ears and you can feel veinsーor maybe they're arteriesーalmost vibrate in your neck from how fast your heart's beating.
>"Still, still, still, just like that."
>You can hear beyond the pounding blood. The mare above you is whinnying. A soft-high pitched hum. The slight crackle of dried grass and the scrape of fur against fabric as the mare above you touches down, standing over you.
>You can hear her heart beat, too. It's fast. Not as fast as yours. But it's fast.
>And it grows louder.
>And louder.
>"Still..."
>It bangs like a drum in your head when her body connects with yours. Herーhooves, you think?ーwrap around yourーstomach?ーaround you and you can feel them squeeze your heart?
>Lungs?
>Your vitals through wide, thin stretches of skin that web between your back-fingertoes flush against your sides.
>Her fur is soft, and her hooves are warm, and the limbs attached to the hooves are warm, and the warmth intensifies as you mentally trace it back to what must be her stomach pressed against you.
>She's a big, soft, furry electric blanket. A blanket that's whispering in your ear.
>"T-There we go! I knew you could do it."
>You can feel her chest press against you with every breath she takes, every exhale causing the ear exposed to her to involuntarily flick.
>"Uhm... is it helping you calm down? The, the, the hug, I mean."
"Iii."
>You don't know. The last thing you rationally want is thisーthis witch spooning you, for fuck's sake.
>But your body is exhausted and hurting, messed up and crying, it wants her to hold you tight and rub you, touch you.
>And when her hoof runs down your stomach. That felt good. Real good.
>Hot shower on sore muscles good.
>Having a real good ballsack scratch good.
>The kind of good you so rarely felt anymore.
>One of your not-legs kicks.
>Traitor.
>"W-Was that okay?"
"Iii."
>"Then..."
>She does it again, and your pain dulls for a flash.
>Then she does it again, and again.
>You think you're still crying, but you just want to focus on this dumb, stupid, retarded pleasure you're getting from having your belly rubbed.
>Your exhaustion is joined by fatigue.
>Despite having just come out of some sort of fainting spell, your thoughts get slippery, hard to hold on to. Quiet.
>A sort of quiet you never had before with your thoughts.
>The reprieve from thinkingーconstant thinking, being unable to just turn off, an endless unending battery of pointless worries and anxieties and run-throughs of conversations with people you hadn't seen in over ten years, trying to find the perfect comeback for when they insulted you.
>The reprieve works in an instant.
>You fall asleep.

===

>You're the big spoon, and your name is Shadow Grove.
>Cheese and crackers, you can't believe you're actually hugging a stallion!
>You're ambivalent about it, though.
>He's so soft and fluffy, and his nose whistles while he sleeps, and you've been pinpointing spots on his stomach that get his back legs kicking.
>But the poor thing's so scared and in so much pain.
>And you're the cause of that.
>Well, if we're being fair, Shadow, it's the /spell's/ fault.
>Yeah, and you cast that spell, dummy!
>So it's totally still all your fault.
>You make a high-pitched whinny and flick your tail in distress, getting it all dirty from beating against your cave-home's floor.
"Now, now, Shadow Grove, you had no idea that would happen. You can't blame yourself for it this time."
"But you knew that spell was trouble! You were just being selfish."
"Mmmnnnnrggghghgh. Be quiet."
>You look down at your husbando's sleeping face. Such a cute, strong snout! A gorgeous, black, unruly mess of a mane that you /must/ brush soon. Oh my gosh, his ears. Aw, those little tufts! Aw!
>You gotta.
>You just gotta!
>You stop stroking the dark green fur of his stomach, resolving to explore it in detail again in the near future.
>If he lets you.
"No, no negative thoughts, Shadow. Happy ones."
>You drag your hoof back through the fur and feel the long, thin bones of his skin-covered wings.
>It feels like the leather covers from some of your books!
>So soft～!
>And his wings are so flexible. You can move the claws of it around easily, and at the tip of each is a bendy claw.
>You wonder what the underside feels like...
>You feel him shiver when your hoof bumps into the wing's base. You make a weird sound in surprise.
"Mmnhnhmhn!"
>You face is feeling a little hot. Having this much fun should be illegal.
>Oh, right. It is.
>You shake your head and withdraw your hoof, scooching forward to bring him into a snugger hug.
"Happy ones."
>Your smile widens as your hoof draws ever closer to tufts. The shifting air makes them flick once, twice in rapid succession.
>You wait for them to settle down.
>You feel like you're about to explode into giggles.
"... Poke!"
>You poke at the tuft. It's so soft! Like a bunny, or raw skin.
>It flicks away, but you hold your hoof in place. It keeps connecting, then flicking away!
>Your heart explodes and you are bleeding giggles.
>"Nii..."
>You snap your hoof back and freeze.
>Did you wake him up? Did you mess up his sleep?
>If he wakes up, you can't keep cuddling.
>And he's going to be cranky.
>And he'll probably still be upset at you.
>And if he thinks you're why he woke up (which you would be), he won't want you to cuddle him to sleep anymore!
>And if you can't cuddle him anymore, you're literally going to die.
>Being so close to someone so warm and cute, getting to play with them while they sleep, just hearing him breathe?
>You can't not have this in your life anymore.
>"... zuzuzu... nii... zuzuzu..."
>Oh my gosh stop that, that's too much
>Correction, you NEED this.
>You get back to rubbing his belly.
>Your neck feels kinda, tired, too.
>Watching over your husbando is tiring, but rewarding work!
>Although it's not fair that he's the only one that gets to dream so peacefully, is he?
>He's using your other fore-leg as a pillow, so you've got two options to choose from.
>One, lay your head down in the dirt, or two, use the perfectly good colt in front of you.
>It's not a hard choice.
>You nuzzle your chin against his neck, fluffing up the dark brown fur collar that's ever-so-slightly poofier than the rest.
>Satisfied, you tuck your chin in and lay your head down on his neck.
>You close your eyes, the beat of blood his unsung lullaby easing your conscious and cradling your mind with proof that you're no longer alone.
>Sleep soon comes with your peace. You dream of cuddling, just like you are now.

===

>You're you again.
>You wake up on the floor. You're warm. Smells dusty. There's a weight on your neck. You can hear a heartbeat and breathing.
>There are crickets outside. You're being spooned. There's a draft at the base of your spine, or tail, or whatever it is. You can feel it moving your tail hairs.
>All you can see in front of you is a shoddy bedframe and coarse sheets hanging over it. You see your shadow outline against it. There's a soft, constant hum behind you from where light is being cast.
>Blades of grass are scattered around in the dirt beneath the hanging fabric. The ceiling of this place is exposed rock. There are three different mineral layers running through it.
>Your teeth feel weird, bigger, flat. They don't sit right. You hear the squeaking of mice echo off the walls. Your lips are bigger than you're used to, more flappy.
>You appreciate the cold ground. There are no rocks poking into your side. You drag your head up across it, looking at the nightstand standing above your head.
>It's a big stump. The middle is burned out and has books lined up inside. The script on the binding is foreign to you.
>Tucking your head inward, you can see you are, in fact, a small equine.
>Two legs are clinging to you, one somewhere below your lungs and the other hooking around your outer hind-leg.
>You feel like you're going to puke.
>You feel violent revulsion towards her.
>A disgust so core to your character that you cannot ignore it.
>She's sleeping so peacefully, treating you like some sort of daki that she can just mind control and hug.
>Time to figure out how to actually move.
>You try to move your hind leg to get rid of hers. The action is the same as you're used to, but the muscles are in the wrong places.
>Your knee is all the way up your leg, what you'd have called the thigh on a human.
>The ankle is the backwards bendy bit, your foot the length of bone between the ankle and your hoof.
>You're not sure, but it feels like you have a lot of muscle back there.
>Muscular or not, though, your leg becomes sore after only a few kicks.
>Ponies can't skip leg day, so you guess it makes sense.
>But you're a Shetland Bat Pony, so you can fly.
>Although you have no idea how to fly.
>Back on track, at least your hind leg is free. Now to get her other leg off your chest.
>You draw back your... wrist? It feels like you're drawing your wrist towards yourself when you pull back the 'knee' of your fore-leg.
>And the long bone from the knee-wrist to your hoof is like your hand, and the hoof feels like you have a big thumb on the bottom.
>You struggle to push her leg off you. This is fucked. So fucked.
>You're never going to get used to moving this body around.
>You'd better wake up from this coma soon.
>Finally, her leg is off. So sore. Exhausted.
>Chest heaving. Your nostrils flare, sucking air in. Huh, you can't breathe in through your mouth at all.
>Easy to kick a bad habit when you're physically unable to do it.
>Resting a few minutes, you wait for your energy to return before getting the pony's head off your neck.
>Can't make out her neck, but you just know she's smiling in her sleep. Must be nice, huh?
"Miikiki kii, aa."
>Your snout scrunches up. You imagine this is close to how a turtle feels.
>God, what if you aren't going to be able to do anything with this body?
>You were never a baby bat pony, so maybe you're never gonna learn how to talk.
>Did that wolf-boy ever learn how to talk? You think he did. Learned how to read and write, too.
>Speaking of writing, you look back at the books inside of the tree stump nightstand.
>How the hell do ponies write books? They don't have any hands.
>You squeeze your 'thumb' underneath your hoof.
>Maybe they can write with whatever that is?
>Learning to speak has to be easier than learning how to write in their alphabet.
>You make a lot of bat noises.
>What's a 'batty' word?
>Kitty?
"Kii-ti."
>Your tail raises in excitement. That almost sounded right!
"Kii-ti. Kii-ti. Kiiti. Kiiti!"
>Flipflop, flopflip. Your tail has a mind of its own.
>Whatever, less you have to worry about.
"Ke, mi, te, se, si, na, n... a, a si a kiiti..."
"Kiiti... se-ss mi-oo."
"Ai sii a kiiti. Ti kiiti se-ss mi-oo. Te kiiti ii-ss siipi. Neigh-neigh-t, kiiti."
>You sound retarded. Your neighing doesn't even sound like night. Fuck, whatever.
>You drop your head out from under your hanger-on and she just keeps on sleeping.
>Good to know she's a heavy sleeper.
>You feel better now that she's not holding you, but she's still flush with your back-fingertoes.
>You throw your legs out, press them against the ground, and pull yourself away.
>Okay, good.
>Now, how the hell are you going to stand up?
>Should you start with your back legs or front legs?
>Your back legs are strong, so... you should stand up with those first, right?
>You make your 'ankles' and 'knees' parallel, drawing the one on the ground underneath yourself.
>Angle it down... sideways... so you'll push yourself towards the other back leg?
>And then you'll jut one out, then the other, and your ass should stand up.
>Then you'll do the same thing, but with your 'wrists,' and you'll be standing.
>And now the hell are you going to walk?
>One step at a time.
>Ha, punny.
"Kihihi."
>Time to put your plan into action.
>Free leg compressed, bottom back leg drawn beneath yourself, you experiment with how much strength is required.
>The absolute last thing you want right now is to body slam the sleeping witch behind you.
>No, actually, you'd love nothing more than to do that, but you don't want her watching her or, god forbid, trying to help you.
>Your ass scoots backward when you extend your bottom leg. Not enough strength.
>You pull your butt forward and try again. And again. And again, until you finally think you know how much force to use.
>Man, it is uncomfortably breezy back there.
>You hope you can find some pants.
>How the fuck are you gonna put on pants as a horse, dumbass? And maybe a horse can write, but there's no way they can sew clothes.
>After a momentary breather, you get into position one more time, and PUSH UP!
>Okay good losing control oh god sideways lift outwards stabilize too much fuck fuCK FUCK
>Your and your tormentor's whinnies mix as you drop your hip on her.
>"GACK!"
>Your legs flail, but you're not going to be standing up anytime soon.
>And, of course, your back is turned to her, so you can't watch her when she leaps up and away from your spastic, flailing limbs.
>You can't even stand up.
"Iii..."
>Your tail flings around and your ears flatten, muffling her fake, insincere fucking mind rape witch voice. FUCK.
>"C-Calm down, please! What's wrong?"
"AI KE-NII-T SII-TT IIP!"
>"Wh-what? Iー"
"_SKRIIII!_"
>Flail, flail, kick. Kick, kick, kick. You kick the fucking shit out of her stupid fucking bed.
>Now there's a big crack running down the unfinished wood.
>GOOD.
>You hope it breaks when she sits her fat fucking ass down on her dumb fucking horse bed and she gets a broken fucking leg
>Goddamn fucking cunt witch make you a fucking stupid goddamn bat pony fucking FUCK
"SKRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII"
>You throw the mother of all temper-tantrums.
>Which does not last long, because you have the endurance of a newborn 'kiiti,' and even your rage cannot sustain your destruction.
>You're too tired to even try to kick her when she finally edges into kicking range.
>"D-Did you have, uhm, have a... a... a bad dream?"
"III KII KIIVII II AAA"
>Stupid Witch flinches away from your angry chittering.
>God, you wish you could tell her to fuck off.
>You try to, but you can't even speak now.
>You're utterly spent.
>"O-Okay, okay, uhm... you said 'seat eep'?"
>Ignore her.
>"Seat eep..."
>Just ignore her.
>"Seet... sit? Sit eep? Up?"
>Snout, why do you scrunch? Have you no honor?
>"You want to sit up?"
>Amazingly, she understood your stupid baby-speak, but you're so angry you could fucking explode right now.
>"I can help!"
>She takes a step over your body.
>Big mistake, witch.
>You kick your leg out as hard as you can at her back legs.
>With little energy and zero real control of your body, of course it misses.
>But she seems to take the hint, jumping over you then sprinting away.
>Now it's her turn to scrunch up and flatten her ears.
>"That was very, very, /very/ rude of you!"
>No shit.
>"You can't be mean to people trying to help you. It's wrong."
"Kihihihi."
>Oh, yes.
>Please.
>Moralize more.
>That's exactly what she should be doing right now.
>Stealing your soul after you die and jamming it into this body, god knows where she found it, or who she killed to get it, all because she was 'lonely.'
>You were lonely and you never did that shit.
>You never kidnapped somebody, mind controlled them, then probably molested them in their sleep like some sort of creepy virgin stalker.
>"Are you laughing at me?"
"KI. HI. HI. HI."
>"Mmnnnrgh..."
"KIIIHIIIHIIIHIII! KIHIHIHIKIHIHIIHIKIHIHI."
>"I already said I was sorry!"
"/KIHIHI./"
>"I really, really, really am!"
"Kihihi..."
>"I didn't know that that would happen."
>"That you'd get hurt."
>"Maybe I wasn't being as smart as I should have been, but you... you're something I've wanted for a long, long time."
"hi..."
>"I just wanted to be with somepony special..."
"...Iii?"
>"Well, fat chance that's gonna happen now!"
>"Big stupid chance, just like me."
>Who the fuck do you think you are, crying?
>If anyone should be crying here, it should be yー
>"And now I'm feeling sorry for myself, and I know that I'm being a huge, huge, huge jerk right now, but if I think about what I did to you, I just, I just..."
>"I just can't..."
>Don't do it.
>"I can't about how I hurt you."
>Don't cry.
>"It's too much."
>You're going to feel like a piece of shit if she starts crying.
>"I can't think that I haven't..."
>"learned... by nuh... nu... uuu...!!"
>Shadow Grove bursts into tears.
>Fuck. She's sobbing, flat on the ground, hiding her face in her hooves.
>Now you're just as mad at yourself as you are at the witch.
>She should have known better.
>She said so herself.
>So she doesn't get to feel bad right now, and you sure as hell shouldn't feel bad about her feeling bad.
>You're the one that should be feeling bad about what she did to you!
>She's supposed to feel bad about it, but
>But not so much that you feel bad getting mad at her.
>You feel like you're the adult between the two of you.
>Like she's more fragile and immature, or something.
>Fuck, what if she is?
>You have no idea how to tell the age of a pony.
>Especially not one that looks like she came from a cartoon for little girls.
>What if you're kicking a little girl while she's down?
>Come on, there's no way a little girl should have the magic to do what she just did to you.
>Why the fuck do you have to be the one consoling her, anyways?
>But there's precedent for it in the anime you like, so the coma isn't...
>Can you keep pretending this is a coma, anymore?
>It's too real.
>And if everything that's happened to you is real, then...
>You don't know.
>You really don't know anything at this point.
>You try to ignore the one thing you do know.
>That you want to comfort the person that did this to you, because she's just a stupid kid who didn't know what she was doing.
>Or maybe she knew she was doing something she shouldn't have, but did it anyway because everybody makes bad decisions.
>But those bad decisions shouldn't destroy someone else's life.
>Not that you had much of a life, and you didn't really like it, but now you're gone without a trace.
>Your cats are going to go to a shelter when your body is found.
>Probably after work calls you and can't reach you.
>No goodbyes to your family or your online friends or co-workers.
>So many loose ends left dangling.
>If anyone did this in your world, they'd serve at least a lifetime.
>So she needs to be... needs to be...
>You look at the wailing unicorn.
>...
>...
>...
>God FUCKING dammit.
"Ghh."
>You hate yourself.
"Hhff."
>This is your problem.
"Ffhfh."
>No matter how much you try to convince yourself that you're a hard-ass.
"Huf."
>Or think that you enjoy the emotional security that comes with being an asshole to others.
"Uf!"
>"Gbhh!?"
>At your root, you're a fucking sap.
>A big, bleeding heart that still hasn't learned by now that you're going to get hurt if you open up to people.
>"H... huh?"
>Or, you guess, ponies.
>You crawled all the way across the floor and planted a hoof on the bawling mare's head.
>"... 'm soh-huh-rry..."
>You pull your 'knuckle' back and let your hoof drop, patting her disheveled mane.
>She pushes her head underneath your hoof, and you rub it.
>The two of you stay like that until you've calmed down.

===

>"You've almost got it! Tuck your left hind-hoof in a little more... yes, yes, that's good. Now, remember, you have to start with your best fore-hoof."
>After some irate screeching at having your chest lifted, Shadow Grove understood that you wanted to stand up all by yourself.
>So, she's been demonstrating how to stand from whatever position you collapsed into, going slowly and trying to describe exactly how she's doing it.
>You've picked up a lot of anatomical terms from it.
>"There you go! You did it!"
>And right after you think you've finally managed, you lose your balance, sprawling.
>"You almost had it that time, really, really! One more time..."
>You grit your teeth and start curling your legs back beneath you...
>...
>You're finally standing on your own. After half an hour of insistent cheerleading that had you at your wit's end, you are upright and not sprawling or falling.
>You are wobbling, but you chalk that up to the exhaustion lingering from the pain and the frustration of having to listen to Shadow pushing you to do your best.
>People encouraging you makes you sick.
>Your ears flatten when she squeals, taking you out of your thoughts as she goes to hug you.
>A glare gives her pause, and she reconsiders.
>Just because she's sorry doesn't mean she has free license to touch you.
>"You're breathing really hard! Oh, you haven't had anything since you got here! You must be so, so hungry!"
>She walks in front of you past the bed, to your left, and out of view, "Wait right there. I'll whip up breakfast in a jiffy!"
>You don't trust yourself to turn without falling, so you stay standing.
>Being able to see three of the four walls should keep you entertained while Shadow makes whatever horses eat for breakfast.
>Your tail droops. Does she know about her mice problem? You can hear them coming from the room over, where Shadow is making a racket with opening doors, tearing bags, clattering pans, pouring water...
>Smells like grass? Hay, maybe? Your nostrils flare as you catch a whiff of something that smells delicious. Sweet, fresh, some sort of fruit.
>The cave walls catch your attention as a spider crawls over bones on a shelf above the full-sized bed.
>Interesting skulls of small creatures, cobwebs in their eye sockets, anatomical configurations whose species you couldn't even hazard a guess for.
>That one has a lot of curling spikes. And that one has fangs going through the roof of its mouth. Metal.
>Next to the bed is a disasterpiece desk. If it had soda cans, unread loan offers, and empty pill bottles scattered across it, it wouldn't be too far from yours.
>Sans your monitors and computer, of course.
>So ponies still use inkwells, huh. Interesting.
>And where did she find a red and blue feather? It looks tropical. Are you in the tropics?
>It doesn't feel humid. Maybe that's because you're in a cave.
>That draft from earlier tickles your snout. On the far wall, there's been a hole blasted in the cave's wall between bookcases.
>It's too small to poke your head through. You want to get closer so you can get a view of the outside world.
>Right now, all you can see out of it is a star-filled section of the sky.
>Light pollution must not be a thing here, wherever this is.
>Would it be a thing in cities? You don't know if ponies have electri-
>Right, the lamp. You turn back to look at it, catching the spider spinning web inside of a damaged eye socket. Must be repairing after its last catch.
>The lamp's hum is hard to hear over Shadow, the mice, and the low moans the window makes when the wind blows past it, but there is an unmistakable hum reminiscent of power mains.
>But you don't see a cord.
>Do ponies have wireless electricity?
>Or maybe it's battery-operated.
>You really want to get closer to have a look, but even lifting a leg is too great a task.
>You become unsteady immediately and need to plant your hoof back on solid ground.
>Is that an iron vein running beneath you feet?
>Do ponies have blast furnaces?
>Shadow's cave-home is full of shoddy wood furniture (mostly bookshelves), one piece of which is now broken thanks to your tantrum-throwing.
>If she makes everything herself, what does that mean?
>There aren't any other ponies out here?
>And how the hell do you get out of her home?
>The only exit from the bedroom/study is into the kitchen.
>"Breakfast is ready～!"
>Shadow Grove enters her bedroom, two bowls and cups resting atop a floating strip of bark.
>She frowns, looking around for a clear space to set the tray down. She settles for the bed, angling the bark tray across a corner to better reach you.
>"I'm not the best cook, but I hope you enjoy it!"
>You get a glimpse of the bowl's contents, but it's too far to really make it out.
>Raising a hoof has you shaking again, so you're not going to walk over.
>And you're not going to eat off the floor like an animal.
>Shadow Grove sits there, watching you with a small smile, her food untouched.
>You want to tell her to buzz off. You settle for a disgruntled "Krii!" and refocus on the food.
>You park your ass and drag yourself towards the bed with your front hooves.
>The steaming bowl is halfway filled with some sort of brown-ish oatmeal and has little red 'cobs' of red berries floating in it, staining the surrounding grains.
>It doesn't look particularly appetizing until you take a whiff.
>It smells like the best thing ever. Like a winter feast. Sweet and tart and... nutmeg?
>Your body must be sending signals without your knowledge because you can hear Shadow Grove trying to stifle giggles.
>You pull your snout out of your bowl, looking for a spoon.
>No spoon.
>You look at Shadow, eyes half-lidded in annoyance as she covers her snout, shaking with giggles.
>She recovers quickly, "I'm glad you like how it smells!"
>You continue to stare. "What's wrong?"
>You motion your hoof from your bowl to your open mouth. How does she expect you to eat without a spoon?
>With a cute cock of her head and eyes drifting towards the ceiling, she taps her chin in thought.
>"You want me to feed you?"
"Krii!"
>"No? Then... are you worried if it's safe to eat?"
>You're about to shake your head before the thought hits you.
>What if it isn't safe to eat?
>She might not even be trying to poison you, but maybe bat ponies have reactions to food that other ponies don't.
>But would it smell so good if it was bad for you?
>You try to think about stuff that's bad for humans that smells good, but your mind doesn't turn up any answers.
>In the meanwhile, Shadow Grove combines your bowl into hers, covers it with your bowl, and mixes it with her telekinesis.
>You're a little surprised at your acceptance of her having telekinesis.
>That's usually a psychic thing, not a witch thing.
>She redistributes the berry oatmeal evenly into two bowls again, putting yours back on the bark tray, "There we go! Here, I'll even eat first."
>And, with telekinesis, she picks up a glob and stuffs it in her mouth.
>Shit, she doesn't have spoons.
>To be fair, if you had telekinesis, you wouldn't use spoons either.
>You hate doing the dishes. And when you lived alone, the only time you did clean them up was when you couldn't block the smell out with your shirt anymore.
>Your snout scrunches again, eyebrows lowered, ears turning down.
>"What's wrong?"
>Unscrunching, and thankful that grimacing has a natural equivalent in horseland, you sigh and shake your head.
>Guess you'll just have to eat like a dog.
>You sigh once more before dipping your head down into the bowl and... well, should you just mash your face in there?
>You flick your tongue out, which is wide and flat and long, and scoop your meal that way.
>Oh, God, that's the stuff right there.
>Smells just like it tastes. The grains aren't too soggy or sticky, the berries burst into sweet, tart juices, and the nutmeg makes the whole dish feel warm and alive.
>Shadow Grove taps her hooves together at your (involuntary) happy throat noises, "Oh, I'm so glad you like it!"
>"I don't get the chance to cook for guests often at all, so I was nervous about cooking for you."
>"You know, when you cook for yourself, and you eat the same stuff all the time, you kind of forget how it tastes?"
>You nod your head, not bothering to lift it out of the bowl as you devour more of this berry-filled goodness.
>Back home, you had gotten to the point where it was PB&J and cold cereal every day because you couldn't muster the will to cook half the time.
>She's still talking?
>"ーey bring me spices, and sometimes other things if I ask them when they come around, but everything besides the nutmeg was foraged by yours truly!"
>She proudly smugs, puffing her chest out and wow that is a thick tuft of fur.
>Imagine burying your face in that.
>It'd be so soft.
>Why does that thought get your blood pumping?
>Oh god, is this a mating display? Is she coming onto you?
>If you get an erection, there's no possible way for you to hide it.
>You close your eyes and focus on your bowl.
>Man, this sure is good. MMM-Mmmm!
>You try to lick the bowl clean, but the damn thing is too lightweight and your tongue keeps pushing it around.
>Giggle Grove over here is just over the moon at your pathetic display before magically holding the bowl down so you can get that last lick of the wall.
>You lift your head and look over at Shadow. Then at her bowl.
>Her bowl hasn't been licked clean.
>And she ate with telekinesis, so there aren't any germs.
>"Hee-heehee! Your snout!"
>Your snout?
>You hoof your snout, tapping along it while Shadow Grove just looks at you and giggles.
>"It's stained with mulberry juice!"
>No shit, you don't have a spoon.
"Ni hi-tt, Ai diin-tt ha a paan."
>That just makes her giggle harder.
>An involuntary scrunch and ass-drag later, you're beside her.
>That gets her to hush up quick.
>"Y-Yes? I'm sorry for laughing, it's justー"
>You look at her bowl.
>"ーbeen so long since I've had a friend stay over, andー"
>There's plenty of goodness left sticking to it.
>"ーit just makes me feel all fuzzy inside!"
>You process her words as you clean out her bowl, sending her into another fit of giggles.
>It sounds, and looks like, she lives way out of the way.
>Ah, she's bursting with laughter now. "You're so hungry～!"
>At least she's holding the bowl for you from the start this time.
>Weird choice for someone who sounds like she needs to be around friends every day.
>Totally unlike you.
>You were more than fine living with only your strays and staying home, watching shows and reading books.
>Although you did game with friends, and got bummed out if they were too busy for you.
>Shadow Grove taking the bowls away breaks your concentration, "I'll make more for you in a jiffy! Afterwards, I'll help you learn how to walk!"
>Fuck yeah, give me more of that.
>What were you thinking about, again?
>Oh, right, gaming with friends. You wonder if there are video games here.
>You look down at your hooves. Probably not.
>Then again, they somehow have books. Maybe ponies have old-school Atari games.
>Plenty of fun things you can do with only a joystick and a big, red button.
>You hope they have Galaga.
>Space Invaders is lame, Galaga is where it's at.
>Although that multi-player Space Invaders they had at the arcade was pretty cool.
>What would multi-player Galaga look like?
>...
>After licking another bowl clean, which has Shadow Grove walking on air, she demonstrates the proper way to prance like a pony.
>"Wow, this is confusing to think about, don't you think? Explaining something you've just been doing your whole life..."
>She paces back and forth in front of you, sideways, staring at her legs.
>You're standing against the wall with the window, with Shadow Grove going up and down and up and down the path between you and the bed.
>"... Okay, I think I got it. So, depending on which hoof is your dominantーI'm left-hoof dominated, but you're probably right-hoofedーyou lead with that one, then you pick up the back one OPPOSITE of that, so for meーI'm left-hoofed, rememberーthat would be my right hind-hoof."
>She moves back and forth in place, slowly, making sure you can clearly see how her legs are moving.
>"So, my left fore-hoof touches down first, then, when my right hind-hoof is halfwayーis that halfway? Yes, when it's halfwayーhalfway through its step, I lift my right fore-hoof, my right hind-hoof touches down, my right fore-hoof goes halfway through /its/ step, then I go back to the left side and repeat the same motions!"
>Another very slow walk. You stare at her with intensity. How the fuck did mother Nature think this locomotive model was a good thing?
>It's so goddamn complex.
>"Do you need me to show you again?"
>Then again, baby horsesーyou think they're called foalsーare up and running within, what, minutes after being born?
>Horses are prey animals despite being able to cave your rib cage with a single kick.
>"O-Okay, I'll do it one more time..."
>Or pop your head like a grape.
>You remember seeing a gore video of that posted once. Cartel execution.
>You shudder. You really hope there aren't any cartels around here.
>"U-Uhm... hello?"
>Blink. Oh, right, you were supposed to be paying attention.
>Shadow Grove has a blush on her cheeks. What's gotten into her?
>Maybe you were making a weird face while looking at her legs.
>Awkward.
>"Do you mind if I call you Mulberry?"
>Excuse me?
"Eekee mi?"
>"D-Do you not like it?"
>You're not a fuckin' horse and you will not be called Mulberry.
>Your name is Anonymous, and despite the shit you got for it back in school, it's yours.
>My name is Anonymous!
"Mi na-mi ii-ss Ai-ni-nii-mii-ss!"
"SKRIII!"
>You hate this mouth!
>You just want to... to bite your tongue off, or something!
>Fuck!
>Can't speak for shit, you *know* you can't write, and you're stuck like this for fuck knows how long.
>"S-Sorry! Sorry, sorry. It was just... I want to be able to call you something, but... I'm sorry, I am, but I don't understand what you said."
"AI-NI-NII-MII-SS!"
>"A-Annie Miss?"
"SKRII."
>Shadow Grove tucks her tail, shrinking away from you. She casts her head aside and speaks meekly, "W-well, uhm, I don't... I'm sorry, I can't understand you, and I shouldn't have tried to g-give you a name in the first place. You already have a name, of course. Trying to take it is wrong."
>Why does she have to be so goddamn nice?
>Your flared temper is already fading and you sigh.
>You've always had problems keeping your emotions in check, but this is probably the worst it's been in...
>... years?
>Has it been that long?
>Thinking back on it, most times you've gotten overly emotional and acted out were during your school days.
>College isn't like that, though. Most of the time.
>Sometimes your procrastination on assignments ran you through the wringer.
>Oh, who are you kidding? You always procrastinated. You had better things to be doing with your time.
>What were you thinking about again?
>Right, your temper.
>You're crashing right now because of it and feel like shit for yelling at your literal fucking captor.
>Is this Stockholm Syndrome?
>"... S-Sir?"
"Moo-be-ri."
>Close enough.
>Shadow Grove's face goes from confused to beaming in 0.67 seconds, a somewhat slow but heart-warming reaction.
>"O-Okay, if you're fine with being called that! A-At least, at least until you can tell me your name! Okay. Okay! Mulberry, watch me one more time, then you try, okay?"
>Mulberry isn't the worst name, you guess. You can work with it.
>Now, back to learning to walk...