Chapters
Here is a scene delivered unto you as it happened and as it felt: It was a Tuesday afternoon, the weather a cold 40° degrees Fahrenheit , rolling gray clouds shadowing the university grounds and Twilight Sparkle, a half-full backpack hanging from her shoulders. Twilight Sparkle was, in that moment, committing two grave sins. The first—we will speak of the second at a later time—was the sin of hope. Of excitement, of desire, wanting, but she was oblivious to her crime, foolish silly…- 20.0 K • Ongoing
- Twilight was used to pulling all-nighters, her sleep schedule and eyesight destroyed by the dozens of textbooks she poured over under terrible light. Empty energy drink cans and tea mugs competed for space on her desk. She just wasn’t a morning person. She’d never been one, no matter how hard she’d tried. She felt much more awake at night, which is why she’d signed up for afternoon classes, content with coming home and studying in the peaceful silence of the night. Well, the mostly peaceful…
- 20.0 K • Ongoing
- She stumbled out of the club, the freezing air numbing her very exposed skin, yet doing absolutely nothing about soothing the burn in her heart, searing with a pain so intense it was almost disorienting. She came to a stop right at the edge of the sidewalk, her eyes fixed on a puddle on the street, the most pathetic woman in the world gawking back at her with wide, puffy eyes. “Rarity—!” Someone was calling to her. Delilah, probably. She sounded annoyed. She probably was, Rarity ruining her night…
- 20.0 K • Ongoing
- “Applejack,” Rarity said, nursing a drink as clubgoers walked past their table, “I shouldn’t be here.” “What?” Applejack said, putting down her beer. “You’d rather be at home crying in bed over whats-his-name?” “We were together five years, Applejack,” Rarity replied, privately relieved that saying it aloud hadn’t drawn out tears then. Every second, she thought of him. Every stupid, quiet moment, she thought of him. God, she was tired of it. Her eyes lingered on two men…
- 20.0 K • Ongoing
- They had a whole needlessly complicated system now. They could text. They could DM on PictoGram. Twilight would even go as far as being okay with calling—like the old times!--but she’d quickly learned Rarity Belle liked doing things her way. First, she ‘politely’ knocked (see: insistently and impatiently knocked) her fist on the wall her bedroom shared with Twilight’s office nook, like so: THONK THONK THONK! Twilight looked up from the three-hour video essay she was forty minutes…
- 20.0 K • Ongoing
Hi everyone. This is Mono! I need to make an announcement regarding the story, and I need it to happen within the story, and this is my website so here I am. I am sorry this isn't an actual update, but it's relevant to updates, so please bear with me. To anyone still reading this, or interested, or invested, I need to be fully upfront with you about something because it is the reason I've not touched the story in months (beyond Grad School) and I am at a point where it feels like cancelling the story…- 40.3 K • Ongoing
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