Celestia was a big mare, Rookwood reflected. She was the largest pony alive. She was also Luna’s sister, which made her the biggest big sister ever in all of ponydom. Being the biggest big sister ever was clearly something she took to heart.

Like right now, as she glared at him from the other side of the breakfast table.

Her eyes were narrowed, and she watched his every move. If his eyes left her gaze for any reason, like looking at Luna for example, Celestia would clear her throat loudly and Rookwood find his eyes compelled to look back upon the Monarch of the Sun. He wondered if magic was involved.

Luna, for her part, was actively trying to kill him as well. Rookwood picked up on this early on. She was eating as seductively as possible. Rookwood wasn’t sure how this was possible, and he had a hard time defining seduction, but like porn or art, he knew it when he saw it. She would suck on the spoon with every bite, pulling it out slowly, causing her lips to distend as the spoon was drawn out of her tightly puckered lips.

And there was the fruit.

Oh by the stars what she had done with the fruit, sucking and slurping and making faces of mock ecstasy while consuming it. And she had finished with a banana. A banana of all things. That banana was going to haunt his fevered adolescent dreams, there were no two ways around that.

And every time Rookwood had tried to get a look, Celestia had forced his eyes away, compelling him to look at her. It was maddening. It had also left him terribly frustrated. Like, very frustrated. He leaned against the table, his hind legs clenched together, hoping and praying that breakfast would never end and there would be no need for him to stand up and try to walk away. Celestia, being the biggest big sister ever, would certainly see his little problem and obliterate him.

“Mmm, hey sister, do mares expecting foals need extra potassium?” Luna questioned, holding another banana aloft with her magic.

Rookwood whimpered. It just wasn’t fair.

Rookwood could actually hear the tendons in Celestia’s neck creaking as Celestia turned to face her sister. Celestia said nothing, but glared at her sister, her burning stare as intense as the sun.

Luna gave an enticing and entirely unnecessary lick to her banana, her tongue clinging to the curvature of it, her tongue waggling up and town, the tip caressing it slowly. Something in Rookwood’s guts lurched painfully.

“Uh uh uh ah gah!” Rookwood stammered, jamming an entire muffin into his mouth, trying to gag his outbursts. After a few moments, he swallowed, and downed an entire glass of grape juice.

“So, uh, you’ve severed my connection to the sun. Am I like a vampire now?” Rookwood asked.

Celestia’s gaze once again fell up him, and Rookwood felt like what he thought a rabbit might feel like when a wolf sat staring at it.

“No.” Luna said, nibbling her banana. “Not in the slightest. But you are nocturnal. You’ve probably noticed all of the lights seem brighter. By the way, notice anything missing?”

Rookwood wracked his brain, trying to figure out whatever cryptic meaning Luna was hinting at.

“You left your glasses somewhere.” Luna said, humming as she took the banana into her mouth.

Rookwood did a double take as he realised he could see.

“Sadly, the effect is temporary. Tell me, can you see motes of raw magic?” Luna asked, pulling an orange to her plate. She effortlessly peeled it by teleporting the skin away from the fruit within.

Rookwood nodded.

“You’ve been altered. Changed forever. You will no longer feel the sun. It will be a cold light, much like the moonlight was. Now, the moonlight will warm you, a gentle loving warmth that will not burn your skin like the unforgiving sun does.” Luna shot a glance at her sister. “The day will be cold. The warmest summer day will now feel like chilly winter. And chilly winter days will still feel like chilly winter.”

“So I died and was reborn?” Rookwood asked.

“In the simplest of terms, yes.” Celestia answered.

“You were crying.” Rookwood said, squirming as he accused the monarch of weeping.

“I could feel you dying and your connection to my sun being severed. It is a physical pain for me. This ritual has not been done for a very long time. I had forgotten how much it hurts.” Celestia looked sad for a moment.

“I’m sorry if it hurt you.” Rookwood said.

“You have no reason to be sorry.” Celestia said. “What had to be done had to be done.” Celestia was looking at him oddly now. There was emotion on her face. It flickered back and forth between pity and anger.

“So I have this weird magic and now the remnants of Nightmare Moon wants to possess me and use my magic to do what exactly?” Rookwood inquired.

“Shroud the world in eternal night, extinguish the sun, and rule over a dead barren world swarming with nightmarish horrors.” Luna said, licking a bite of waffle, slurping syrup with her tongue.

“And I could do that with my magic?” Rookwood said.

There was a painful silence as both sisters looked at him. Rookwood suddenly felt very insignificant and small.

“In theory, yes.” Luna said.

“You would be stopped long before you ever reached a point where you even remotely threatening.” Celestia said, one eyebrow raised.

“So why turn me into some pony of the night and increase my power… Wouldn’t it be better to just leave me weak and helpless?” Rookwood asked.

“No.” Luna said, jamming more waffles in.

“Nightmare Moon would continue feeding off of your weak body and become a real threat. We cannot allow that. You are going to have to learn how to fight her. Stop her from feeding. Deny her your essence. Push her back. And my sister and I are having to take a calculated risk in allowing you some real power. You are in an odd position Rookwood.” Celestia said.

“How so?” Rookwood replied.

“Your cutie mark manifested before you actually had the means to exploit it. Which leads us to all manner of difficult philosophical questions. We will ignore those for the time being. Most of them. Had Luna not given you the gift of the night, you would have gone on as a unicorn with no magic, occasionally having very vivid dreams and nothing else. As it is now, you are free to fully explore your destiny, to test your power and ability.” Celestia chewed thoughtfully on a strawberry.

“So what makes me so special?” Rookwood said.

“Rookwood, the lunar pegasi are the only ponies who regularly use shadow magic. It allows some of them to pop in and out of dreams, to vanish in the dark, to teleport from one dark place to another, to become insubstantial, which is called shadow diving… And occasionally a clever unicorn manages to learn a tiny bit of shadow magic, to harness and manipulate the dark. Really dangerous unicorns make deals with fell creatures from other planes and tap into dangerous shadow magic. You my dear Rookwood, were born to harness the shadows, even though you began life as a solar pony. Odd beginnings. But then again, at one point, I was a mare of solar origins. I had to take a mantle of darkness upon myself to do what was required of me.” Luna finished speaking and returned to stuffing her maw full of food, eating noisily and sloppily.

“Well, you don’t need to worry. I don’t want to be the dark lord of anything.” Rookwood said.

“Sometimes, we start out feeling that way…” Luna said, her words trailing off, her mouth still full of food.

“I am the most incompetent pony that has ever lived.” Rookwood said. “I screw up everything I touch.”

Rookwood was nearly knocked out of his chair, struck by an invisible blow. He staggered, his head wobbling limply on his neck, his vision full of stars. His ears rang, full of invisible bells. There was another pain-filled strike, this one actually managing to take him from his chair. He sprawled over the floor.

“LUNA! ENOUGH! YOU ARE KILLING HIM!”

There was third and final blow that sent him sliding and skidding over the floor and into a wall with a loud thud. Every bone in his body ached. He rolled over, pleading for mercy, his eyes closed. Something warm and wet was running down his nose, over his lips, and trickling down the back of his throat, causing him to gag and strangle.

“Luna, sister, what has gotten into you?” Celestia was on her hooves now, her horn glowing. Rookwood saw none of this however.

“He touched me!” Luna said.

Celestia stood confused, shaking her head, not understanding. She looked over at Rookwood, who was in a rapidly growing puddle of blood on the floor.

“Did he goose you or something somehow?” Celestia said, confusion and panic flooding her voice. Guards were flooding into the small dining room now.

“No sister. He touched me.” Luna said, now sobbing.

“Luna, make sense. Speak plainly! What just took place? I did not see him touch you! He was on the other side of the table!” Celestia’s voice rose shrilly in the panic.

“HE SAID HE SCREWS UP EVERYTHING HE TOUCHES!” Luna shrieked, causing every ear in the room to splay wildly from the agonising volume. “HE TOUCHED ME AND I AM WITH FOAL!”

“Sister… You… I… What?” Celestia looked at her sister. Celestia’s wobbly legs barely carried her back to her chair. She sat down with a loud plop.

“Broken nasal bridge.” A guard announced, standing near Rookwood.

“Mommy hormones.” Celestia muttered, rubbing her head.

“WHAT?” Luna roared. “I DO NOT HAVE MOMMY HORMONES! HOW DARE YOU IMPLY SUCH SLANDER! SHAME ON YOU SISTER FOR YOUR WAGGING TONGUE!”

“Sister. Calm, Thy. Teats.” Celestia said, no longer caring about decorum.

“HOW DARE YOU…” Luna said, glaring at her sister.

“Luna, enough.” Celestia said gently. “You just broke a pony’s nose for an imagined slight.”

“‘Twas not imagined at all.” Luna said, sniffling, her face still slicked with tears. “His words were careless and cruel. He touched me. In the most intimate of ways possible. And has left a reminder of his passing. To say that it is a mistake or somehow a failure… Unthinkable, given that I am sterile and that my pregnancy is impossible through normal means.”

“Luna, your moods are fickle in the best of times. This is going to be an unbearably long year.” Celestia said, stilling rubbing her head, her ears aching from her sister’s outburst.

“Get stuffed sister.” Luna spat.

A unicorn guard lifted Rookwood with his magic and carried him from the room, a towel catching the still flowing blood.

“Luna, sister, please, listen to me.” Celestia pleaded, trying to get her sister to listen to reason.

“No. Go blow it out your perfect white pucker hole.” Luna said sullenly, tears still trickling down her cheeks. “You’re one to talk. You had your little moment of anger at him for believing that he raped me somehow, as if the common pony was somehow physically capable of such a thing. If I did so much as flex my tight little plot cheeks I’d rip the offending organ right off. Do you even know how insulting you are at times?”

Celestia did not argue. Luna was still venting. And, perhaps, had a bit of a point. Not that Celestia would admit that. Not in the open at least, where guards might hear.

“I feel very emotional right now.” Luna said.

Celestia nodded.

“And I worry about past mistakes.” Luna said.

Celestia sighed and nodded again.

“And by the gates of Tartarus, I am still hungry.” Luna said, tearing into the remainder of the fruit bowl.

“Luna, I am more than a little worried about you.” Celestia said as Luna savagely assaulted the survivors of her earlier conquest.

Rookwood drifted in and out of dreams, his mind full of fog. For a time, he was dreaming about that night he had dreamed of Luna, but instead of urging him onwards and allowing him to rut her, she had punched him in the nose, sending him flying out of the dreamscape.

His head thudded with its own heartbeat.

In another dream, he was reaching upwards for her, his forelegs straining to embrace her neck, to kiss her again. He was back on the stone table. Life was flooding back into his body. He needed to feel her, to touch her, to feel her warm body to assure him he was still alive, assurance that his state of existence was real.

And again, she had punched him in the nose, sending him flying from the dreamscape.

And then he found himself chained down to stone table. He looked around the room. It was odd, and he didn’t recognise it. The walls were dull grey stone. His chains clinked as he struggled. His head thudded and throbbed, his nose had its own explosive heartbeat slamming around inside of it.

The ceiling was covered in mildew. He stared at it for a few minutes, seeing patterns and images.

Near him was a long table, stretching the length of the wall, and it was covered in metal tools of all sizes, shapes, and kinds.

“Thank you.”

The voice was cold and sepulchral.

“Your generous contribution has allowed me to touch reality again.” The voice stated, cold and imperious. “To shape it and bend it to my will. And now, I will take what I need from you once again. And, if we are lucky, we will find what makes you special.”

Rookwood struggled against his bonds.

“Why bother?” The voice inquired. “What good will that do you? You are mine here. I have taken precautions to ensure that we will not be disturbed. Not until I have what I want from you. You have been reborn I see. Shadow now courses through your blood and you are free of the accursed sun.”

There was the clink of metal from the long table.

“We shall begin with a base demonstration. Something to show you that I am in charge. And that you cannot and will not resist me, no matter how much you might want to, I have seen your fears.”

Rookwood felt his chains tighten. He tried to protest, but no words came out. His mouth was forced open, his lips were peeled back.

“I find it so amusing that so many ponies fear this common nightmare.”

A pair of pliers hovered over his eyes, lingering in his vision. Rookwood began to sweat, his breathing increasing, his heart thudding faster.

The pliers floated down and there was a tapping on his front teeth, as though the pliers were knocking for entry.

Rookwood wanted to scream no. He could feel the words in his throat.

“Please proceed my mistress. I await your loving ministrations.”

Rookwood struggled. He couldn’t believe the words coming out his mouth. That wasn’t what he had wanted to say at all. No. No. No.

He could feel the pliers poking and prodding, looking for something. He felt them grasp a tooth, a molar. He felt pressure. There was a soft tug.

“And now, we shall begin. I am well aware of what you are thinking right now. Your mind is laid bare. You are barely even worth my notice, you worthless lump of flesh. But you do have something I want. And when I am done, you will beg to give it to me.”

The pliers clenched and began to pull. Rookwood screamed inside of his own head. His jaw strained at the socket. The pliers squeezed, trying to get a better grip. The pressure intensified.

White hot pain flooded through his mind. He saw starbursts in his vision. His ears heard an orgasmic moan escaping from his open maw.

And that was perhaps the worst of it. He was her plaything. His entire body was bent to her will. The sounds of his own pleasure unhinged him.

The pliers pulled and tugged, and then twisted slightly. They squeezed, straining for a better grip, trying to pluck the molar free.

There was an odd crunching sound as the molar shattered under the vice like grip, fragments of his tooth tumbling down into his throat and causing him to choke, the sharp shards cruelly cutting into his flesh. A shattered stump of his molar was left in his gums. His tongue rolled over the sharp remains. There was a searing pain as his tongue was sliced open from the protruding shards.

“Whoops.”

The pliers clamped clamped down terribly upon the remaining shards and exposed nerve. There was a tug, and more of the molar’s remains broke off.

Rookwood heard his explosive orgasmic moans echoing off of the walls. He felt his mind tearing.

With a terrible ripping sound, the remaining fragments were torn free, leaving a gaping bloody hole in his gum. Blood trickled down into this throat and Rookwood was forced to swallow or drown. He could hear his own orgasmic gurgles.

“That was the stick. Would you like to try the carrot? Does my little pony want a carrot?”

He felt his head nod. His throat was flooded with blood, far too much to allow speech.

“We shall get to the carrot in time my precious little pretty pony. I promise you. But first, I require more of you.”

He saw her now. In his vision. A black shadowy alicorn. Terrible. Beautiful. He felt an odd sense of arousal. He could smell her. Smell her desire. Her musk. She was quite aroused herself.

“Perhaps when I am done with you, if there is enough left of you, you could give me a foal, as you have done my mirrored counterpart. Your magic would certainly allow it. Would you like that? I think you would.”

She leaned in close, her nose inches away from his sheath, sniffing.

“Ah, the sleeper awakens. You would like to help me with my own little sterility problem I do believe. I shall have to be careful as I extract what I need from you. Once I have what I need, I can take a little something else as well, an unexpected extra if you will… And then I can discard your disgusting pathetic remains and be done with you.”

There was a clink of metal.

“It has been so long since I have fed.”

He felt something tickle against his flesh, just below his ribs. Something cold and metallic.

“This is almost like cutting a cake. Only you must be so much more careful.”

The sudden pain in his side was blinding. He could hear the flesh being cut open, the metal blade biting deep. A long incision was made. His mind balked, almost unwilling to accept this reality, and then the barriers broke as his mind accepted this reality and all of its horrors.

He felt something enter his side, delving in, probing. And then something else. He was pulled open slightly. The pain was indescribable. Something probed his insides.

His own lusty gurgles as he continued to gargle his own blood threatened to unhinge whatever was left of his mind.

“What makes you special? What lies inside of you? You and I are going to find out. An odyssey into your innermost places. And the best part is, you cannot die here. I will hold you together and see you through. Do you see yet, what is in store for you? I will show you such great secrets.”

He felt something in his insides tearing and pulling, his organs shifting suddenly within this abdomen. The pain shot upwards into his throat, and downward, into his testicles, causing explosive waves of pain that crashed upon the shores of his very being. There was a wet squelching sound as something was pulled free from inside of him.

“Ah, fresh meat. Liver. Full of blood and the essence of life.” She tore a piece free from the bloody chunk held in the grasp of her magic. He could hear her eating him, the wet sloppy sounds of her feasting upon his flesh. Her lips smacked.

Something warm, wet, and slippery was pressed between his own lips. It was salty. He found himself chewing against his will, his mouth still filled with blood, which he was forced to keep swallowing. And now, his mouth was filled with the taste of his own liver.

Rookwood felt something in his mind tear a little more.

“There there. I have taken something else from you. Something you can never have back. You now know the forbidden pleasure of devouring flesh. In this case, your own. ‘Tis a shame Luna took your dreaming virginity. I could have had so much fun with that. So, we have played, we have dined sumptuously, shall we continue with our date? Such a pity there is no chaperone to protect me from your base desires. You want to take liberties with my body, do you not? Do you have a need for conquest? Do you seek to rid me of my fragile innocence? I desire to be rid of it, perhaps you can help me out of this terrible situation.”

Nightmare Moon tittered fiendishly.

He could feel hot breath on his sheath once again. Very much against his will, he felt himself becoming aroused.

“They say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

Her words tickled him as he emerged, growing, spreading. His tongue felt greasy and slick, still covered in the taste of his own liver. His jaw ached, the gaping socket where his molar had been flared like white hot iron.

He felt the warm tingle of magic upon him, pulling and tugging, trying to encourage just a little bit more blood flow. His brain began to flood with images of Luna. At first, they were the hot and heavy images of Luna, when she had been in his dream, her seductive and sultry stare urging him on. But then her face became distorted and weird. Stretched in odd ways, Now her expression was one of tender concern. Of worry. Her eyes were piercing. Her lips were moving, and she was saying something. He could not make it out. Was this a dream within a dream?

He snapped back into the current nightmarish reality.

Nightmare Moon almost had him in her mouth. He could feel her tongue coiling around his shaft. Her lips teased lightly over his turgid flesh.

“Rookwood?”

That wasn’t Nightmare Moon’s voice. He had heard it in his head.

“Rookwood, hold on, I am so sorry!”

Nightmare Moon now had him in her mouth. He could feel her fangs. His hips bucked upwards, surprising her. He could feel something deep inside of him grow weaker.

Nightmare Moon sank one fang into a throbbing vein along the side of his penis, opening him up, flooding her mouth with blood. She drank, gulping down the crimson liquid.

The effect was orgasmic. Rookwood drifted close to the edge, with each slurping suckle she made upon him he was that much closer to blowing his load. Something inside of him was growing weaker, but he did not care.

He was on the brink now. He felt a tongue slide roughly along his shaft, licking away blood. So close. He felt his legs stiffen, His back tensed painfully.

“AWAY WITH YOU YON BITCH OF TARTARUS’ FILTHY SLAVERING HORDES!”

The world around him exploded painfully, and Rookwood felt his consciousness rip and tear. He felt a painful burning ache in his balls. He had been right at the edge. He could hear a gurgling scream and he realised it was his own, he was once again free to voice his own thoughts, not the puppet voice of the one who had been controlling him. His body was racked with agony from one end to another.

He was in a bed, and something was on top of him, bearing down on top of him, trying to restrain his flailing limbs. He heard soothing cooing. His body was on fire, ablaze, and his breathing was ragged and shallow.

He felt the warm body above him pressing against his own. His nose thudded with its own hammering heartbeat. He opened his eyes and saw flashes of blue.

There was a warm humid heat between his body and the body above him. Something velvety and smooth brushed over his tumescent cock.

He heard an orotund shout but could not make out the words.

He came explosively, painfully, feeling as though there was a thunderous kick to his balls. Ragged raging pain ricocheted through his body as his seed blasted forth.

He heard a startled cry as he went rigid, his body becoming as solid as stone for a moment, and then he went limp. His legs stopped flailing. He sank into the bed with something heavy on top of him. His belly and his barrel felt moist and sticky. His nose boiled with pain.

“Nnf.” Rookwood grunted, opening his eyes and trying to keep them open.

Luna was above him, pinning him down. Her horn was pressed against his.

“Rookwood?” She asked, looking terrified.

Rookwood felt himself release one final explosive spurt, his body tensing one last time. He gurgled, his body going limp again.

“Rookwood, speak to me this instant. Is your mind intact?” Luna’s voice was commanding.

He flenched away from her.

“I will not harm you. You have suffered enough. And for this, I am sorry.” Luna’s eyes were wide with concern and shared pain. Her belly clung stickily to his own.

She rolled off of him, onto her own side, and pulled him close, her horn still touching his.

“I saw everything. I tried so hard to reach you. I could not. I could not keep you safe.” There was very real pain in Luna’s voice. “I saw everything.” Luna repeated.

Rookwood gasped and struggled to breath. His tongue flicked around his teeth, looking for the empty socket. All of his teeth were there. He ran his foreleg down his side. No slashing incision.

His belly, still covered in his own seed, was exposed to the air now, and he could feel a cooling breeze trailing over his sticky pelt. He had retreated back into his sheath.

He became aware of Celestia staring down at him. She was scowling, her own face full of fear and anger. One nightmare had just ended, and now, a new one was beginning. Rookwood twisted and turned, trying to cover his shame.

“Every time you and my sister come near you slather her in your seed.” She said, her voice a flat monotone.

Author's Notes:

Dental horror!

**Gets up from desk and slams head into wall.**

Excuse me, I am going to go sobbing in a corner for the rest of the day.

Eeyup.