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Human becomes pony. How, why and what happens next are all up to you. New stories and art welcome!
Any type of transformation into ponies, dragons, gryphons, changelings, draconequus, etc., whether OC or canonical, & Anonponies of all shapes and sizes.
Want to be the little pony? This is the thread for you.

For the list of PTFG's recently updated stories, see below.

Archive of over 420 stories, as well as additional links and materials:

Unrated TF image dump thread:

Below are some suggested writing prompts.

>A pill of questionable legality is now available. Taking one results, over the course of a minute or so, in a complete transformation into a little pony lasting twelve hours. The caveats are twofold: First there is no way to predict in the appearance that will result, pegasus, unicorn or earth pony; stallion or mare. Secondly taking two pills within a day renders the transformation permanent.

>Twilight is giving you a choice: To become a copy of a pony from her world in every sense except for memories and be paired with another anon, or to be said other anon. She has to see how humans react to being ponies and the mating potential of humans and ponies... you know, for science.

Chat in https://discord.gg/tfAjenN

Previous Thread:

Previously on PTFG,

untitled - New
[AiE, TG, Age regression]

The annual Pon-E festival is (not) a hive of degeneracy by Gnisha - New & Complete

Little Colt by WallMixer - New

Pizzaportal by Gnisha:
[AiE, TG, Age regression]

Coming of Age by Spacewolfe:
[Changeling, TG]

Last Horse by alCROWholic:

Crash Course by CrushingVictory:

Anonfilly by EaTCarbS:
[AiE, TG, Age regression]

TwiSwap by SunNon:
[AiE, TG]

How I Learned To Love Being The Mare In Heat by Pogoman122 - Complete

New WiP by Gnisha:

Not So Cheery Lee by Pogoman122:
[AiE, TG]

VITAMINS by Vitamindude:

Assorted TF prompts by Thatguywiththeface:

Archive of over 420 stories, as well as additional links and materials:
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Turning into Spike is always a bad idea.
I have a feeling this will lead to a white van, then a life as a sex slave in a Tuscan brothel
I'm in
>Get turned into pony by some weird drugs.
>Get picked up by some weirdos in a van.
>Fear the worst.
>But actually they bring you to a pony snuggling/LAN party.
>Everything went better than expected.

Your style reminds me of AnimatedJames

Really makes you thonk
No farting tho.
>But actually they bring you to a pony snuggling/LAN party.
>tfw lonely, tired, cold and really feeling the lack of hooves.
That sounds very good right now.
The truth revealed.
What would you like to see in a pony TF story but haven't seen yet?
"...by Tfanon", and not published 4+ years ago
What would happen if Anon got his hands on the pearl of transformation?
What would happen if Anonpony got his incompetent hooves on the pearl to try and change himself back?
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>Anon has to enter the Equestrian witness protection program for his safety after witnessing a crime.
>Needless to say, this requires him to become a pony.
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That would be the most amazing thing ever. God, I want that so bad.
>TFW you turn into a pony and meet a new pony friend
Art idea: Anon leaving his human body and ascending as a being of pure luminous energy (in the shape of a pony).
>tfw when you perform your post-transformation-into-a-pony victory dance.
Is that what the kids are calling fapping these days.
I'd love to see this as a story. I could totally avoid becoming a whore.
You don not fuck the thing. You burn it
Nope, he just gets a minotaur costume that he has to wear every time he goes outdoors.
Ponies love redeeming villains. I'm sure they could manage it with the thing.
I found an old anonfilly greentext that I started writing years ago, but left 4chan shortly after so never finished it. Is this thread where anonfilly goes and are y'all even interested? It was more of a wholesome story than a lewd one.
Let's see it!
I haven't done anything to it yet so this is how it was when I found it. Don't get pissed if it sucks. . .

>Frankly your death was not a very pleasant one.
>Certainly no death is ever a pleasurable one.
>Of course being reborn wasn't very fun either!
>Especially when you retain all of your memories from your past life.
>Being a fully grown man trapped in the body of a newborn foal is a hell in and of itself.
>You were still traumatized by your death and yet, here you are.
>Born a month premature with a strange birth defect.
>It has yet to be explained to you, but you can definitely tell that there is something wrong with
>That doesn't stop your new mom and dad from loving you though.
>They are a nice couple.
>They have a nice house, a big family, and they have fucked every day since two days after
they brought you home.
>Yeah they will probably grow old together.
>To be honest, it is pretty nice.
>Sure you are a girl now, but now you have parents again!
>And this time they actually like you!
>”How's my little girl doing?”
>About as well as you can do mom.
>You are lifted up out of the crib and suspended in a magic field.
>”A goo goo blee bloo!”
>Ugh maybe if I look away they will stop.
>”Aww is the widdle baby cranky?”
>Honestly you can only take so much baby talk before. . .
>”I bet she is hungry Sweetheart.”
>Good old dad. Always was the more perceptive of your parents.
>You actually are pretty hungry.
>So hungry that you start to cry.
>”See Sweet she’s starving! Feed her!”
>”Oh alright Pictus, but I still wanted to play with her.”
>Dad moves over to nuzzle mom.
>She still blushes like a schoolgirl.

>”I know Sweetie, but she is still really weak right now and needs all the rest and food she can
get. Besides, I sure you would rather play with me tonight.”
>Mom is still red in the face as she walks over to the bed.
>”Pictus! Not in front of the baby!”
>Dad responds with a deep laugh.
>”Here you go my little princess.”
>He drops a lacy hat onto your head.
>”Aww she looks adorable!”
>If you say so.
>Oh it looks like mom has decided that it is time to feed the baby.
>Crotch tits! Yum!

Part 1 end. There is more. . .
Part 2

>”So what do you think doctor? Is she developing normally?”
>Well here you are. Once again sitting in a pediatricians office.
>For some reason you seem to find yourself here every weekend.
>”Yes I would say that she is. In fact she seems to be extremely healthy for a premature foal.
Especially a defective one.
>Looking up you see your mother getting red in the face and puffing out her chest a little.
>Judging by the look your mom is giving the doctor, he is about to get chewed out.
>”How dare you call my baby defective! Why if I wasn't. . .”
>”It is the proper medical term Mrs. Sweetheart. I meant no offense. Now would take your
daughter back out to the waiting room? We will call her back in when the tests have been
>Mom looks pretty pissed, but does what is asked of her.
>It is a short walk from the room you are in through a small unremarkable hallway right down to
the waiting room.
>The waiting room itself is pretty typical. Lots of chairs, a few things for kids to play with, and a
small bookshelf with children's books and magazines for the adults.
>You being born the way you were have become pretty familiar with the whole process.
>”You are not defective! You are perfect just the way you are!”
>The doctor calling you defective didn't really bother you, but poor mom always took it pretty
>Anytime a doctor called you that, she would always start coddling you afterwards.

2000 limit is killing me. . .

>As much as you loved her, it did start to feel a bit suffocating after a while.
>Luckily, a familiar face entering the office distracted mom just long enough for you to wiggle
out of her grasp.
>Naturally you went straight for the colorful little pegs on the metal bars.
>You never did figure out what those things were called.
>Lucky for you, mom seems to be talking with the new parent while a purple unicorn filly
approaches you.
>You stand ready to fight to the death to protect your thingamabob!
>Luckily she knows not to mess with a foal and it's thingamabob.
>She walks right past you and sits in front of the bookshelf.
>Losing interest in her, you look back to your glorious little thingamabob, but before you lay a
single hoof on it you feel yourself being lifted into the air by mom.
“Fu. . .”
>You cut your curse before it is completed.
>The pink magic flows all around and you are slowly pulled in.
>Can't let mom know you can already talk!
>”Aww she is adorable!”
>Bitch I know I'm cute!
>You have seen her a few times. You think that she is a neighbor or something.

>Grey coat with purple and white mane and tail.
>”Velvet, do you want to hold her?”
>The new mare just snatches you right out of your mom’s magic field.
>”Oh look at her! She is as cute as my little Shining was at that age!”
>Mom help!
>”Yeah she is really something isn't she? Little Twilight has gotten big too.”
>Her muzzle is getting dangerously close to your belly.
>She wouldn't!
>It is at this point you have had just about enough of this shit.
>There is only one way to end this before it begins!
>You perform maximum scrunch.
>Open the floodgates! Emergency draining procedure has been activated!
>”Oh come here baby! Mama’s here!”
>Engage pneumatic impacting devices!
>”Oh she is kicking you Sweetheart!”
>You suddenly feel the cold hardness of the floor!
>”I guess she just wants to play with those toys Sweetheart.”

>”Mrs. Sweetheart the tests are ready.”
>All your hard work getting back to the thingamabob. Ruined!
>”I'll see you later tonight Velvet.”
>You want to scream as you are picked back up.
>The little purple unicorn just looks at you while you are being picked up and rolls her eyes.
>Oh you don't like her.
>You quickly reenter the room you were in before, but this time a tray of familiar objects lays on
the counter.
>Now this will only hurt for a second.

Part 2 end. One more. . .

I'm starting to get pissed at all my old typos and mistakes. . . Part 3 start!

>Holy fucking shit, this is disgusting.
>Get off of your lazy ass and change me!
>Mom is asleep and dad is just sitting on the couch letting you marinade.
>Lazy bastard always made mom do the dirty deed.
>You intend to change that.
>”Hornet, why don't you go play with mommy?”
>He quickly buries his head in the newspaper that he is reading.
>He obviously wants you to wake up mom and have her change you.
>Not going to happen dad.
>Pictus is his name.
>At least that is what you hear mom call him.
>You are just standing there in front of him.
>He looks uncomfortable.
>The cushions on the couch shift as he gets up and quickly darts to the kitchen.
>Not wanting to reward him for ignoring his only daughter, you chase after him.
>You stop at the entrance to the kitchen.
>Dad is nowhere to be found!
>He must have ran out the back door.
>Wow dad. Just leave your baby girl all alone because you can't change a diaper.

>The kitchen is perfectly clean and organized.
>Mom was always really particular about how the house must be kept.
>You know just what to do!
>You quickly start opening the cabinets and throwing everything in them on the floor making
quite a racket.
>All of moms pots and pans have been freed of their unjust imprisonment!
>Hmm, if that didn't bring him back, nothing will.
>Maybe you should start screaming, that usually works.
>Then again you don't really want to wake up mom.
>Well if he doesn't want to help, then you are going to make his life miserable.
>You quickly make your way back to the living room.
>Tiny hooves clopping on the clean floor as you run.
>You quickly make note of possible targets.
>The floor is a beautiful polished hardwood, there are some bookshelves full of old well worn
books and scrolls, a pretty glass table right in the middle of the room, there is a small potted
plant in one of the corners, several comfy chairs, and a nice couch round out the décor.
>Oh mom is going to be pissed when she wakes up, especially when Dad was supposed to be
watching you.
>You immediately head for the bookshelves.
>One by one, books are thrown across the room.
>Next you start throwing the cushions from the couch and chairs onto the floor.
>Fort time!
>You pull the plant out of the corner and begin building your castle where it once stood.

>Your human ancestors must be proud that you maintain their old tradition of clearing forests to
build pointless structures.
>Suddenly, you hear a door open and close.
>Acting quickly, you tip the plant over and start rolling around in the dirt and then jump into your
>Partially because you wanted a bath after sitting in a dirty diaper all day and partly because
you wanted dad to get in even more trouble.
>You hear a clip clop coming from down the hallway followed by a gasp.
>”Sweet Celestia.”
>You peek out just in time to see her turn into the kitchen.
>The stunned silence is delicious.
>You decide that now is the perfect time to reveal yourself.
>Putting on your best “I missed you mommy” look, you trot to her side.
>”H-honey what did you. . .”
>I'm a dirty girl.

End of part 3. That is all I had before I temporarily died. I thought it was kind of funny when I found it earlier. What do y'all think?
Not bad at all. Are you going to continue this?
Please anon, I need these pills. I need them so bad. You gotta hook me up here!
I may, but I don't remember where I was going with the story, the other half of anonfilly's name was, or even what anonfilly's defect was so I'll have to try and recreate the story. I do remember the family dynamic pretty well though so I could probably make it work. I think I got stuck because I couldn't decide whether to timeskip to school age or keep the story somewhat Rugrats esque.
Got a pastebin for this?
I think her name was supposed to be Green Hornet
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I used to have a paste in for my stories, but I never posted the third part on anything. I just wrote it and never did anything with it. I had a changeling story and a RGRE story as well on my old bin. I recommend The Coroner. I got more compliments on that one when I was writing it than any of my other stories.
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>ywn be turned into a pony by a pony trying to prove to you that clopping is better than fapping.
thatd be fun
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>Anon has half his body swapped with that of a pony when Trixie's sawing-a-person-in-half magic act goes wrong.
That sounds golden!
It'd be silver at best. Full pony TF gets the gold.
Deepest apologies, folks, been busy with semester exams, and my body trying and failing to kill me again. I have a huge update building, however, it is still in the process of being written, will post once done, soon™.
Welcome back whoever you are. What story are you going to be updating?
Shhh I want to be surprised
Aw, fuck, excuse me and my fuckup
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Too late! We're going to continue waiting on your weird alternate reality but it really isn't but it is story anyways!

Also, as most of the northern hemisphere is currently being ravaged by wendigoes, newly transformed ponies are HEAVILY encouraged to dress for the weather
Speaking of fuckups, story update now.
Last time we left Pravda she was about to try some swordfighting.¨
Is it mecha?
“Why do I have to fight?” You ask, standing on the deck of a room next to the hangar. The sidelines are filled with the scientists, watching, taking notes, hell, you even spot a camera in the corner of your vision.
Sure, you've fought with a sword before, but that was way back when in elementary school.
“Combat is necessary for your continued existence.” Cranium answers and you frown.
“I disagree, a peaceful solution is always possible.” You object, as a mass of light flashes into existence before you.
“Reason will only get you so far. War is when diplomacy fails, Pravda.” Cranium replies to your objection. The figure of light, shaped much like your own current armor draws its sword, and swings the massive blade into a ready position.
“But, there is no one to fight.” You say again, drawing the blade at your side, gripping it, feeling the weight of the massive hunk of sharpened metal.
“Now is no one to fight, Pravda. You are a Queen and a mother, and a mother always protects her children.” Cranium says, and the figure begins to circle you. You follow along, turning yourself to face it.
“I said I don't want to do anything with this.” You say, watching the holographic? foe make steps.
It's thrilling. You can feel your heart skip and beat, blood pumping through your head, the weight of the sword feeling lighter and lighter as adrenaline levels spike. Your breaths heavy and collected.
“And yet you are here.” Cranium answers, and the light figure lunges at you with a swing of its glowing sword.
You throw your own blade up, and they clash, there is weight, an impact to your own, and a noise of clashing metal impacting the blade.
The pressure on the sword, the weight, is immense. It's pushing against yours and you have to put strength and effort to keep it at bay from impacting your head.
“I'm doing this to learn about myself.” You answer and push away the assailant with your sword.
“I want to know what I am, and what I can do, and who my parents were.” You say, and now, instinctively, it's your turn to attack.
You swing your sword from up high, and just as it's about to connect with your training foe, you see them swing their blade at yours, the materials clashing.
Instead of absorbing the blow, though, the blades slide across each other, and the sword impacts your left arm.
You jolt back in pain, it felt like a shock. A big strong shock.
Immediately, you feel your arm limp, and you look over, and see that it just swings by your side.
Determined, you grab the sword with your functioning arm, and with some effort, you manage to drag it across the floor.
Your foe, charges you.
This might just work.
With all of your strength, you swing your sword up, leaving a huge gash across the floor where the blade dragged itself across the surface.
There, almost.
Just as your face is about to get the same treatment your arm did, you duck, and the momentum of the sword carries your arm and the blade through the training foe. The impact feels into your arm, the weight of the sword impacting, the foe slumping over and dispersing just quickly as it appeared.
You pant, breathing heavily.
Cranium claps.
“Good work, Pravda! I believe we can work with that!” The ship exclaims.
Fucking hell.
You move the impacted arm. It still buzzes, kinda like if you were shocked. You’ve just about had enough of this. The chest of the armor opens, and you’re released.
Hopping out, and stumbling, you continue panting.
Your arm is still numb.
“Nope, nope, nope. This is good enough for today. Maybe once my brain stops screaming about how wrong or weird this is and how I shouldn't even be able to do this, we can continue.” You blur out.
“Apologies, Pravda, the numbness will subside soon.” Cranium exclaims, as you stumble, trying to take a step, your mumbened limb betraying you.
One of the scientists rushes up, and holds you, preventing you from falling down.
You look up and recognize the person.
“George?” You ask, and the man shrugs, with a sly smile.
“Sorry, Pravda.” He says.
Good god, you should’ve realized. George Williams. The most common name in existence, and he offered you support for free. Altruism, hah. Of course he'd be knee deep in this. SAFFRON. Of course they'd send agents, or someone to watch over you.
“Miss Pravda, I suppose you are too tired to continue?” Cranium asks, and you reluctantly nod.
“I'll accompany miss Pravda to her quarters, could you lead on?” George says to Cranium, and before you can object, you're scooped up, and carried.
George looks at you, and notices your frowned facade.
“I’m sorry if you feel like this was a bit of betrayal.” He says, and you shake your head in more of a gesture, rather than genuine dismissal.
“No, it's fine.” You say, politeness winning over honesty.
Left turn, right turn, and then stairs.
You move the still buzzing hoof, with some effort. Kinda feels like if you struck a nerve. “Look, George.” You say, and using your magic, you reposition yourself, to at least get a bit of comfort.
“Hrm?” The psychiatrist says, and looks at you.
“How much of this was planned by your superiors?” You ask, as the door to your room opens, and you're placed on the bed inside.
“I'll be leaving you two to it. I trust you can find your way back, Sir George?” Cranium says, and the figure disperses before the psychiatrist can even answer. He takes seat on the corner of the sizeable bed.
“I'm sorry Pravda, I really am. But I was under direct orders to follow you along with providing professional counseling. I've been moved here after I've reported you're headed for here.”
“And you have been left to deal with the fallout?” You ask, and George nods.
“Look, I understand if you feel like you can't trust me, but I still am a medical professional, and that means I am under the oath.”
“Then how much did you disclose?” You ask, lying down, and staring at the ceiling.
“Just the barest necessities, really.” He says, and you groan, stretching your hooves.
“You do realize that I can't trust to open myself to you if you're disclosing even some information to other interested parties.”
George raises his hand, in a gesture clearly signaling you to keep silent for a second.
“Look, Pravda, I only told them the basic idea I have about your mental state, and what you plan to do next. Whatever you said during our session stayed within those walls. I promise.” George says, and you reluctantly nod again. “However, if you do believe that I betrayed your trust far too much, we can stop future sessions.” George continues, and you rub your forehead.
“Look, George. I'm tired right now, and that combat escapade just now didn't help my tiredness at all. Could we talk about this later? Please?” You ask, and George nods, getting up, and going to the door.
“I trust you will be able to find me, then?” He asks, and you nod. The door closes, and you're alone in your room again.
Only a half truth, really. But you want some alone time.
You shuffle under the blankets, and turn over on your side.
Stretching again, you burrow your face in the pillow, and sigh.
This shit drives you up the wall.
With one last sigh, you drag the light blanket in, and close your eyes for sleep.
The skies stretch above and below you. You're falling. You can feel the acceleration on your body, your shell straining, soon dust chipping away, and then your body falling apart, plates ripping off from your carapace. You extend your wings, and with a crash, you wake up.
Startled, sweating, you sit up, and rub your face.
You hop off.
You've screwed your landing, and you feel your body creak.
“Cranium?!” You call out, scared. All the things that this body does scare you, but you don't like this girdling feeling one bit.
Cranium does appear, with a concerned look on his face.
“You called, Pravda?” He asks, and you quickly nod, picking yourself up.
“When I got out of bed, I felt like my body was groaning. I fell, and….”
Before you can continue, Cranium cuts you off.
“Oh! That is wonderful news! You must be growing! Molting should come soon!” Cranium exclaims, happily hopping on the spot.
“I...I think I went through that before.” You say, the loose feeling of your shell on your body familiarly creeping over. “It sure as hell didn't feel like this.”
“Oh! Well, each state of growth works and shows off differently.” Cranium proclaims.
You take a deep breath, and cough. This gross feeling on your palate, stretching through the back of your throat, almost like a thick gross mucus. You move your tongue, and feel it get stuck to the roof of your mouth. It makes you gag, a guttural cough escaping your lips. Your mouth hangs open, and a thick viscose black mucus drips from your maw.
You cough and heave again, and a hurl of the slime droops from your mouth. Good God. Your stomach feels utterly empty, and soon, your ears feel like they're burning. Cranium, apologetically looks at you, observing with interest.
Your entire body feels like it is aflame, like someone poured gasoline over you, and set you aflame.
You groan, and fall on your back, sticking your hooves up, seeing them stick in the air, as to your horror, you see the shell on your legs slowly melting and sloughing off, falling off in large gelatinous chunks off.
You want to speak, but the only thing that comes from your mouth is a loud gurgling noise, as you're thrown into a larger coughing fit, your chest and stomach suddenly bursting open and throwing gelatinous chunks away, spewing more of the slush from your mouth.
Exhausted, your limbs fall back to your body, and you shaking, get up, your face melting, and a thick heavy slush drawing over your eyes.
“I can't see!” You exclaim, finally your voice returning, deeper, sharper, more….womanly. A tone of command hiding behind it like a wild cat does behind a shrub.
“Just hold still, Pravda.” Cranium enthusiastically exclaims, and soon, you feel your horn flare up, not of your own volition. The slime on your face flowing down, your form slowly shaping up and out, you feel like you're growing, your stature getting taller and taller, your form puffing out, rounding out, and then, suddenly, this tightening pressure around your body, your spine straightening out, as you feel your hair growing out. You look around, and stand in a puddle, of well, yourself.
You step out, making sure not to spread the remains anywhere else around the pristine floor.
“My god! Pravda, you look beautiful!”
“I feel icky.” You say, and look down at Cranium. Good God! You're taller! A good bit taller.
“The shower is next door.” Cranium says, and you follow him.
An alcove in the corner. Valves obviously intended for hooves, a drain...yes, a bathroom, all in all. You'd prefer a bath rather than a shower, but what can you do.
You step under the shower, and turn the water on. Getting to ideal temperature is easy enough, and you sit under the steady stream of water, using your hooves to wash any of the gunk and gloop out of your hair and off your body.
Once you're done cleaning, you spot a towel in the corner. Convenient. You take it and dry yourself off. Now, is there a...right! There. You walk over to a mirror you've spotted, still drying out the new length of the mane on your head.
You look a vicious creature in the eyes, it's smirk staring back at you. You turn your head left and right, the crown on your head seeming bigger, the creature copying every movement you make. It might just be you, but God damn, it looks terrifying. You open your mouth, your maw riddled with fangs that you'd see in a shark's mouth, rather than in whatever you are and oh my God, those fangs. Your horn is a bit longer and more crooked than it were before. You take a few steps away from the mirror, seeing most of yourself. You're tall, that's for sure. The curves of your body are longer and more rounded, the wings on your back ever so slightly buzzing, still drying out. You watch them, taking shape and straightening out.
“Pravda?” You hear from the main room.
“I'll be there in a minute!” You answer, and continue checking yourself out. Your mane flowing free, dangling about in elaborate curves and strands that copy your head's shape. You brush it aside with one of your hooves, and sigh. Taking a few steps, and slightly ducking under the door frame, you return to the main room, where next to the door stands Doe.
When the caramel coated unicorn takes a look at you, she seizes up, blabbering. You smell a sense of dread and panic.
You carefully walk over, and put your hoof on the unicorn's withers. “Doe? Come on. Are you alright?” You ask, shaking the unicorn ever so slightly. You smell fear. Thick, and runny, distress dropping through it like a strong stream of water from a hose. You shake the unicorn, and Doe, soon enough leaves normal emotions in the air, but she's still shaking.
“Doe?” You ask, and the unicorn jots back.
“I'm, uh, sorry.” She says, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion.
“What was that about?” You ask, and Doe shakes her hoof.
“Nothing. It was nothing.” The unicorn says, dismissing your question.
“It sure as hell didn't feel like it.” You object. “Come on.” You pleadingly ask, and Doe gets up, walking to the few armchairs in the center of the room.
“You remember my outburst at the police station?” Doe asks, and you reluctantly nod.
Doe hops onto one, and you onto another, far enough to not intrude into personal space, and opposite of Doe, so you can see your conversation partner better.
“I've fought another one, and it looked just like you. That's why I burst out at you back then. It caused me...too much suffering to be honest. Good people died because one Russian mobster went mad with what I made.” Doe explains, but you're still not catching up.
“And what was this about?” You ask, and Doe sighs.
“When I saw you coming through that door, I came back to somewhere I didn't want to.” Doe answers, and you reluctantly nod. “You just...scared, me really.”
“I don't look that scary.” You object, and Doe shakes her head.
“Doesn't matter. It's just me.” Doe says, and you look to the ground.
“I see. Look, there is a pretty good Psychiatrist onboard, and you could maybe, I don't know, talk with him?” You ask, and lean back, rubbing your forehead. “I'll tell him about you, and he can help you out at least talk yourself out, right?” You ask, and now it's Doe's turn to nod slowly.
“Well, what harm can it do.” Doe answers in resignation.
“So! How can I help you?” You ask, trying to steer the conversation into a better direction.
“Well, you said you wanted to learn some magic, right?” Doe asks, and you eagerly nod.
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And das it, doc updated accordingly, next update will come soon, literally need to just add a few sentences.
Anonfilly is from Virginia so she just aborts twilight.
Sweet update dude
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The virgin "stuck after transformation"
The Chad "can change back whenever but wants to have some fun first"
This should be a story. Anon turns back and forth as he pleases to taunt all the people who got stuck permanently as ponies
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>1 hit of Pon-E
Little mare for a little bit
>2 hits
Little mare for life
>EXACTLY 1.5 hits of Pon-E
Free swapping between them
Why dat big brown nigger doing Pepe that way? Fuck that nigger!
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He does it for free.
Kek. It probably works better if this isn't caused by Pon-E though.
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>tfw you will never be transformed into Ace then transformed into Eris

Abstract feels
I'm guessing we're not gonna be seeing art of Miss Pravda anytime soon, eh?

All in all, I hope she learns how to fight, lead and effectively in her new form. Although, becoming a few feet taller every time you grow up must be a pain in the butt!

Good update, and nice to see writing from you!
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>I'm guessing we're not gonna be seeing art of Miss Pravda anytime soon, eh?
Isn't this her?
>the virgin longs for his pathetic humanity
>the chad accepts his new PERMANENT form and becomes the goddess of chaos
>ywn be transformed into a pony, a gryphon, a dragon, a changeling, several other creatures and finally into a draconequus incorporating parts from all your previous forms.
>ywn be transformed
Yep, it is, I ought to draw some new stuff, tho.
Yeah, we need art.
>ywn be transformed into a Kirin and be floofy
why live?
>transformation into a draconequus caused by spaghettification as you fall into a black hole.
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Watching Neuro's exploration of lewd has been very adorable.
>ywn be the one to transform others.
What kind of chaotic being doesn't change form from time to time?
And no-one would be able to tell if you're a mare or a stallion.
>Anon holds a pony's hooves.
>He soon finds himself with hooves of his own.
>But at least he's safe.
I am obviously putting down normies who would prefer being boring and unremarkable humans rather than embrace being Eris if the opportunity presents itself. Stop pretending being retarded.
What are your most romantic pony TF ideas for Hearts and Hooves day?
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We need Cadence setting Anon up on a date as a mare.
Looks innocent enough to me. The faces bother me a little bit though.
How would that go? Like this?
>Cadence, knowing Anon the hermit is a lonely fuck and it's Hearts and Hooves Day sets Anon up on a date
>With a stallion.
>Anon gets angry and tells her he's not gay.
>Not wanting to disappoint the stallion or ruin her plans she turns Anon into a mare so that it's "not gay"
>Anon threatens and swears at Cadence
>She insists he should go out because it'll be fun and he'll get to feel 'normal' around ponies instead of feeling like a green monkey in a room full of pink ponies
>Anon is still unconvinced
>She promises Anon there will be an open bar and he doesn't have to do anything but hang out with the stallion for a few hours
>horsecock ensues
Kek. And then Anon drunkenly blurts out how he got into this mess, to the stallion's disgust.
Followed shortly thereafter by horse pregnancy.
Gnisha, your writing is fucking great and I've really enjoyed all your stories.
>Anon sits at the bar ignoring the stallion
>Drinks literally everything
>Says to the stallion he's a dude and he's just been cucked
>He runs away crying
>Anon proceeds to harass everyone and everything in the bar
>Cops called when he breaks a plant pot for thinking it was talking shit behind his back
>Princess never tries to hook up Anon again after that.
good, them sons a bitches stay shut
Naturally, one cannot be turned back while pregnant.
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Thought I'd let you guys know first.

Five Score will be getting a print. I need to know how much interest there is in it. Author's permission is obtained. All details are in this signup form: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSevpxOK13qNmdP8fnpXJr9CM-6HwBertHOI5SfftAlgVMgCRQ/viewform
Wow, it's finally happening. Now PTFG can compete with the other published pony stories.
Very based. I remember the ending being really shitty but it's iconic enough that I'm signing up anyway. And you're using the good version too, excellent.
How much would a real leather binding bump up the cost, by the way?
Can't horses cause their own abortions or was that just a meme? It would be funny to see Anon trying that strategy anyway.
I've had enough people triggered by me not specifying that the leather is not real when that isn't an option anyway.
But why not
>Anon ends up hooking up with the cute cop-mare.
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It's really expensive and cumbersome to work with.
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nice quads
>be depressed
>pray to be pony
>get turned into pony
>wake up, surprised, hide in room, don't come out.
>gotta get to work.
>decide to go off and live horse life
>work calls
>everyones a freaking pony and still needs their taxes done...
>can run to work
>traffic is a herd of horses trampeding on crackling asphault
>pegasi flying running into birds
>people still in apartmants looking outside
>emergency services on hold.
>person randomly selling fake vaccines
>get to work
>writing with anthro-ish hooves still worse then hands
>only people that show up on time are lsd addicts and people who are getting a husge payday and don't care about being a pony
>realize this was your dream but everythings basically the same but you have a confidence boost now because your finally a pony!
>ask someone if they wanna get drunk and play vidya.
>they say o.k.
>curse wears off it was a hallucination
>stranger you just met is still at your house...
>go on like everythings fine...
But what if it was humanity that was the hallucination the whole time?
>curse wears off it was a hallucination
Liked it until this part.
The idea of the world suddenly becoming horse and a subset just roll with it to keep things going is very appealing to me.
Not to mention that you wouldn't want to upset your fellow hooved creatures.
>ywn be one of the well prepared few who keeps the world running after the horsening.
>ywn be the leader who inspires your community of confused transformed ponies to keep going and not give in to madness.
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>tfw all these years of customer service is actually worth something.
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Might as well fuck'em I guess. As long as he can't get you pregnant with some satyr abomination.
>As long as he can't get you pregnant with some satyr abomination.
I'm surprised we haven't had more weird hybrids in this thread, either as a result of breeding or a transformation gone wrong.
Why do people write about transformed unicorns learning magic as if it worked like this?
Because they have hands and would panic if they suddenly didn't.
Having to adapt to handlessness is just the cost of being a pony. People need to embrace that and the period of learning to use your new body. It cheapens the experience a bit if the transformee can still manipulate objects just as when they had hands.
Even customer service jobs are worth doing when your customers have become ponies.
Veterinarians earn more money as more of their clientele are turned into ponies, eventually mainstream human doctors are out of business, as mane-stream pony vets fill their purpose
Not exactly, as a vet's speciality is diagnosing and treating nonsapient animals, which is not the case here.
That was both fast and an utter killjoy moment.
Veterinarians would have more experience with equines and their anatomy, which would benefit newly transformed ponies though.

I hope we both get hooves and be cute.
Holy mother of fuck this thread still exists. I haven't been on this board for like 6 years but I remember keeping the first one of these alive before it became a regular thing. Glad to see it paid off
finished Pizzaportal and loved it. Nice reimagining and felt like a stone in my stomach knowing what was going to come. But I didn't get one of the references - what was the underground city? From one of the later seasons I haven't watched or another franchise?
em oke
Welcome back. You've got a lot to catch up on. Zephyr's story is now finished for one, if that's something you remember from way back.
>what was the underground city?
I don't think it was anything from the show, so it could be the author's own creation.
It was actually supposed to be a reference to "At the mountains of madness".
Also, time for another update

>You reach your destination for the day in the late afternoon.
>As you come closer to the "town", if it even deserves the moniker, you quickly realize that there isn't a whole lot to it.
>Seemingly randomly scattered houses and huts on the outskirts of a swamp, a few boats tied to trees at the water's edge.
>"Mint really thinks that he'll find any buyers here? I am not even convinced they know what a monetary system is out here."
>Huge snickers.
>"Really doesn't look like much, does it? But I've learned to trust Mint on such things. He always manages to set up some good deals for us."
>You are not entirely convinced, and entering the village itself doesn't do a whole lot to change your mind.
>The wood of the crooked houses looks perpetually wet, and the few ponies you see on the street seem even more hostile than those in the last town.
>You even see a few spitting on the ground as you pass them.
>"Doesn't seem to be the most welcoming crowd," you voice your observations.
>"The marshsettlers are certainly living up to their reputation. We visited another village of theirs on our last trip, but it wasn't as bad."
>You continue walking in silence until Huge shrugs.
>"In the end, it doesn't really matter wether they like us or not. If they want their tools, they will have to buy them from us."
>Or they could decide to get them some other way.
>Who would even miss a few travelling merchants?
>You keep those thoughts to yourself as you help setting up the camp.
>The town turned out to not even have a tavern your little group could stay in, and so you make yourselves as comfortable as possible in a little grove on the outskirsts of the village.
>A good part of the night is spent awake, eyes straining to make out the houses a few dozen metres away from you.
>You'll be damned if you let those crazy swampfolk rob you or worse.

>Finally, you fall asleep in the early hours of the morning.

>The next day, you become witness to what borders on a miracle.
>As soon as the stand is open, villagers come swarming.
>And they don't even seem disgusted with your presence.
>In fact, quite a lot of them are smiling.
>Mint is standing behind the stall, serving as an odd, yet effective mixture of salespony and entertainer.
>He praises his wares, jokes with the customers, listens to their questions and small talk, always a friendly smile on his face and an encouraging comment ready.
>Sometimes, you can make out what they are talking about even back at the cart, where Huge and you busy yourselves with minor repairs of the wheels.
>From what you are able to make out, the peat extraction has been going poorly for a while now, and with the new tools, there is a light at the end of the tunnel for this community.
>"He's good, right?" Huge asks, looking up from his work.
>"Shockingly so."
>It's the first time you get to see Mint in business-mode, and it's honestly a bit disturbing to seem him turn the villagers from all but openly hostile to friendly customers.

>The next stretch of your journey starts blurring together as routine sets in.
>You spend most of your days helping and talking to Huge, then setting up camp, eating and training until you almost fall asleep standing up.
>And in whatever town you pass through, you can watch Mint conduct business with the same odd charisma that seems to posses him when it comes to trading.
>All in all, there is an not unpleasant sense of boredom to your travel.
>Until one day, you reach the top of a hill and see it.
>There, in the distance, almost on the edge of the horizon: An almost white expanse, as far as the eye can see.
>The Desert.
>The Borderlands.
>You are finally one step closer to figuring out just what is wrong with you.
>It isn't until almost three days later that you finally set hoof into the desert

>Despite the new climate, you manage to cover a good distance per day.
>At least that's what you think, after the edge of the desert was no longer in sight, landmarks became kind of scarce.
>Huge doesn't seem to take to the desert as well as the rest of your group, though.
>Appearantly the heat causes his old back injury to rear its ugly head, and so you pull the cart alongside him.
>Of course, he had protested and claimed that it wasn't so bad, but you saw the way he grimaced whenever there was another dune to scale, and how his back twitched from time to time.
>And since friends don't let friends hurt themselves, it had been no question that you would come to his aid.
>As you come down from another dune that had made Huge grit his teeth despite your best efforts to relieve him, you see something in the distance.
>A big, swirly cloud that steadily grows bigger.
>"Huge, we got a sandstorm headed our way."
>You are already busy unhitching yourself to get into the cover of the cart, when you hear Huge say it.
>"That's no sandstorm."

There it is. Without a whole lot of substance, I am afraid, and I don't really like resorting to a time-skip, but it's time to get this story back on track.
Nice. The Storm King cometh?
A vet becomes a pony doctor in Equestria could be a good story idea
Realizes he has to deal with having to hear patients with actual screams of agony. No longer the meaningless animal suffering noises, but *human* cries.
He can't do it.
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Or he goes into it well prepared to treat all manner of mundane pony ailments, but then it turns out that all his patients are suffering from strange magical afflictions that leave him utterly baffled.
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>Twilight gets in trouble for transforming Anons into ponies without their expressed written consent, only implied oral consent.
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Transformation into a canon or non-canon character? No brainwashing/mind wipe/personality or mental transformation at all in either case, just a body change.
Im down with both, but if they're going with a canonical tf, they better stick with the canonical stylings of the character.
After all, you dont see fluttershy go around calling everyone a muthafucka.

Also, seeing them slowly gain their mannerisms is the best, because that shows the mind is transforming too
>Also, seeing them slowly gain their mannerisms is the best, because that shows the mind is transforming too
As someone who generally dislikes hypnosis, mind control, and the like, this is like the one instance where I agree. Best thing is if they're aware they're slowly changing, but also never lose their sense of self; and then they can either panic about whether they'll lose themselves completely, or alternatively give in and start acting as the character (still without losing their old sense of self).
What if they were the pony all along and by transforming they gain a sense of self that they had lost while they were human?
Anon you were always the little horse, you were in crazy crazed coma thing for many years but now you is being back with us, why do you keep to the screaming of the thumbs what is this hands you are making the questions of?
ah, I did get a Lovecraft vibe from the scene but in honesty, I've not read a lot of his actual work
>five score divided by four
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Jenny is a national treasure.
Honestly, a bit less appealing. Then they're just a pony.
Literally my two favorite fanfics. Nothing made me question my morals as much as either of them.
Preferably non canon.
Are there any stories like this?
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Why? What's so morally questionable about them?
>ywn become the mother of all pony-kind.
>Anon starts catching glimpses of Princess Luna.
>This becomes more and more frequent.
>Eventually they meet face to face.
>She tells him everything's just a dream and he needs to wake up from the coma he's in.
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I never remember dreams, it's always been a fear of mine that i'm just dreaming since i have no point of reference.
Although in recent years it's more like a low-level nightmare that never ends.
I wish i could meet moonhorse.
OG alicorns (yk, before the show went to shit) are literal deities. Just introducing more of them out of nowhere is at the very least bad tone.
Maybe we can become horse gods via Mormonism.
What is this? The optimalverse gives me the creeps.
They're all right, except the earth pony.
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Would you try to find a way to reverse the transformation if it would mean essentially killing the pony you used to be? Keep in mind that not doing so means giving up your own life as a human.
Also, there are many questions raised in FiO but my favorite is what counts as consent. CelestAI needs verbal consent before she can upload anyone to Equestria but she has basically a 100% chance of getting it. So does it really count as consent if there is no choice in the matter?
>Anon becomes a superhero pony.
What would his powers be?
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Caelum Est Conterrens, a FiO story by the person responsible for popularizing TCB. Very philosophical.
Turning others into ponies, duh.
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That's too obvious. What if Anon's in Equestria and there aren't any humans. Or is he going to start turning the gryphons into ponies?
I have sacrificed way too much sleep by putting pony hypnosis on repeat in the hopes I'll wake up feeling like a pony...
That's crazy Anon. You're better off getting good quality sleep and dreaming about the ponies.
Can people link / mention their favourite or best tf fics? Preferably stories rather than one-off transformation sequences
Sixpence, Purple Black Gray
No other outstanding ones off the top of my head (other than Zephyr of course)
Starlight's going to cure your fear of not becoming the little pony.
>ywn be the stallion that takes advantage of all the newly transformed mares as they become sluts.
>well this is it
>my parents died
>I don't even care about my inheritance
>my sister can have it
>she deserves it after all my parents put here through

>I didn't even feel it happen, but I heard it
>the way my neck snapped, holding me in the air in a moment of weightless eternity, before I disappeared into the void
>a normal man doesn't open his eyes after death
>for a second I was afraid I had failed, even my suicide a doomed endeavor

It wasn't, my body swung in another world, in another time.

>instinctually I raised a hoof to my aching throat
>... a hoof
>a white hoof, matted with an orangish filth that held the familiar oduer of Doritos... with a whiff of hay
>it was so small...small and delicate
I winced, inhaling a ragged breath through small, weak lungs. My furred barrel of a chest expanding horizontal to my neck, the long neck that crawled up to hold my odd shaped, disorienting mess of a head.

>my vision swirled
>I was crawling, using my hoof to pull myself across the dirty, beige carpet of the unfamiliar darkened room the hope of the warm glow highlighting a mysterious doorway leading to a white void
>the white void turned into a cold wave as I came in contact with cold white tile, the cross pattern catching and tickling against unfamiliar matted, greasy fur as I dragged myself towards an automatic destination
>I held my front hooves on the ground as I jostled myself up into a half standing position, the backwards joins trembling holding my frame aloft as my brain encountered an error

A horse stared back at me

(Greentexts are harder than I thought they were.)
Yup, he'll go from NEET to NEET. And as soon as I get home I'll finish it. Writing from a phone is hell, but I promised itself I'd do it.
I'd rather be the mare that gets taken advantage of, desu.
Nice start, I can't wait to see where this goes! Did they become the neetpone?
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GeT tHiS lEwD oFf My BlUe BoArD
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This thread is pure and wholesome, but since you mention it we could really use a good smutty story again.
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Purple black gray is my all time favorite, i only wish it was longer.

Nigga with the amount of potential mares ITT the few of us that want to be stallions are pretty much doomed.
Especially if it's an "Every pony is thrown into the same room." type situation.
>55 Unique posters ITT
There's like five maybe six guys at most from my unofficial guessitmates who want to be a stallion.
Serious risk of dehydration if ponies couldn't control themselves, especially as a rough 1/3 of them would have magic.
That pic is seriously adorable. I wouldn't mind being a stallion if I was as cute as him, but I still think mares are better~
It's a decent start. Keep writing.
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wannabe stallion here, feels like were a minority
This is why we need more mares that are into mares.
High Flyer.
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I rather enjoyed Doctor's Oath, A Gift from the Sun, and Radiance

Correction, Straight stallions are the minority, let's be honest, you want to be the little colt for someone, don't you?
What happened to SunNon? I was enjoying his story a couple of months ago.
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Who even has spoilers enabled in 2020-1?
Are there really that many people here who want to be the mare AND are only into stallions? First of all, I don't know whether that's less or more gay than wanting to be a mare while also being into mares, and secondly, I am almost certain that's a tiny minority, I wouldn't even be surprised if it was a smaller one than that of people wanting to be stallions.

I mean of course being a broodmare or alternatively having a loving stallion husband is the ideal, I'm not denying that, or saying we should all be strictly gay mares. But honestly, I'm having a hard time imagining anyone in an "everyone together in a room" scenario downright refusing to get to it with a mare, especially if all the stallions end up being overwhelmed. And I'm sure that more than a few would be entirely happy to just stick entirely to mares for a while to lighten the workload.
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>Transformation into a pony can cure any disease or injury.
>Except for restless leg syndrome, which it makes much much worse.
Does anyone remember that one early pony episode wherein they killed off Twilight? Should have a TF to rock!Twilight.
Ship her with Maud, say
I remember the episode they killed Twilight and replaced her with an alicorn.
I don't know how old op image is. but I'm trying to figure out how I feel about it.
You mean with the cockatrice?
Run it off, noob.
Only about a month old. How do you feel about it?
something like this
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She's a big filly
for you
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>Turns out earth pony skills are harder than they look.
I DEMAND MOAR if it isnt too much trouble
Sorry to ask to be spoonfed, but would someone link me to Purple Black Gray? I can't seem to find the link anywhere.
If you were looking on the google doc, searching those often seems to be dodgy. You have to use the document's own search function, rather than your browser's.
A brit bong told me to post this here
Here's a light version if you're into that.
Light works better, to contrast with Anon's mane. Alternatively don't make the mane black but I digress.
Transformation into a mere statue of a pony probably isn't worth it on the whole.
>ywn get close and comfy with Twilight as a pony.
ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᶦᵗ
Lifting things with your mind is pretty neat, but trying out other things too would be awesome.
“I saw you know how to move stuff, but I know some other things.” Doe proclaims, with some inherent pride in her voice.
“Like what?” You ask, and Doe glows her horn, a wall of green light standing up between you and her.
“Like this. I call it a barrier. If you can angle it properly, I'd becomes bulletproof.
Out of curiosity, you poke the construct with your hooves.
It's solid, doesn't budge. Almost feels like glass to the touch.
“That's neat.” You say, and Doe nods.
“Look, I found this magic to be rather an abstract thing. It comes from the heart kind of. I am not the best teacher, but…”
“Enough excuses. Tell me what you do, and I'll try replicating it.” You say, and cut Doe off mid sentence. The unicorn carefully nods.
“I focus, first of all, and then...it's like if you wanted to put your hands in front of you, like if you were shielding yourself from something.”
You nod again, alright. This can't be too hard.
Breath in, and out, keep your head clean, no hard thoughts.
And then, arms outstretched. Your magic takes hold and full force, a barrier standing up in front of you. It's not as big, or as thick as the one Doe showed you.
Doe pokes it with her hoof, and slowly nods. “We can work with that.” Doe says, inspecting the barrier that takes you a lot of effort to hold up. In one moment, you can't hold the tide anymore, and the barrier disperses in a mess of glass shards. They fall to the ground, shattering into milion pieces, the sherds smaller and smaller with each impact, until there's little left but a line of small particles, that in turn slowly dissapear.
“Uh, sorry.” Yo usay, and Doe shakes her hoof dismissively.
“It's a good first try. Nothing to be sorry about.” The unicorn says, waving hour apology aside.
“What next?” You ask, and Doe taps her chin.
“Let's try that again.” The unicorn promptly answers. “But try melding the shape. Those hands and fingers that make your barrier up can bend and contort in any way, you just have to go against...uh, your head, if that makes any shred of sense.”
Tilting your head to the side, you say, “I don't think I follow exactly.”
“Right. Example. Teachers do those.” Doe says, and with a glow of the horn, a small green elephant appears before you. It bops about as Doe glows her horn.
“That's cool!” You say, as the elephant flies into the wall, dispersing in similar shards to the ones your magic produced when the barrier fell. “How did you make it move?” You ask, fascinated.
You can smell the pride in Doe's emotions. And something you thought you couldn't feel, or rather didn't feel, from the unicorn. Happiness. Sweet, and thick, woving through the pride like a red string through the rest of the emotion.
This in turn, empowers you to push on. You can do it, can't be that hard.
“Oh! Well, you know how you can make stuff move, right?” Doe answers your question, and you eagerly nod. “Well, put the two together.” Doe answers, and you nod again.
“I see.” You say, and have a go at the magic again.
“Remember to keep your head clean. Try something simple.” Doe tells you, and you nod.
Come on, can't be too hard. You think, and then, with a deep breath, you close your eyes. The feeling of the ethereal hands comes back. Keep it simple, maybe, just a ball. You can feel it sorta, like of the fingers made a ball shape, contorning and stretching, molding together.
“Yes, like that, that's good.” You hear from Doe. It feels so unnatural. You freak out, losing focus. You open your eyes, and the magic disperses in a fine mist.
“What happened?” Doe asks, as you rub your forehead.
“I...it's all so wierd and it doesn't make no sense!” You exclaim, trying to rub tiredness and frustration from your visage with your hooves.
“I understand. Look, Pravda, maybe you could try the basic barrier now? Get the hang of the magic and such.” Doe asks, and you nod again.
Let's try this again. Focus, and then, almost…
You feel your horn light up, and the barrier rises in front of you, this time a bit thicker, with a lot less flickler.
“Good effort. Real good effort.” Doe says, inspecting your construct.
You let the barrier go, dispersing it in tiny shards. You feel like you've ran a mile, your stomach is empty, and worst of all, you're hungry.
It's not a normal hunger though, it feels like an insatiable thirst, your mouth and throat dry, your tongue painfully scraping against the inside of your mouth, the back of your throat filled with this gross alkaline taste. You need it. Love. It feels like you need all of it in the world. But that one bottle on your bed will have to sufice.
“Excuse me for a second.” You say, waddling to your bags. Each step feels like a chore. You just didn't have time to think about eating, is all.
You open the bottle full of love sent from your Aunt, the cork blasting open, the oh so sweet and lovely full smell filling the room. Without a second of doubt, or consideration, you kick the bottle back, letting all of its contents pour down your throat into your stomach. No moderation, no measured swigs. It's delicious and you need it all.
Doe looks at you with some concern, and you look at the unicorn, putting the now empty bottle away from your lips.
Yeah, you're shivering. Thankfully though, the feeling of weakness has passed, and now you're feeling the polar opposite.
“I'm sorry, hunger cramps.” You apologize, trying to sway Doe's fear away.
It does little to help. But you're feeling better. A lot better. Strength feels like it is coursing through your veins, each fiber of your muscles filling and brimming with power. Your stomach warm, you can feel like you could push mountains about.
“I...see…” Doe answers. “Look, Prava, I think that does for today, I'm a bit drained myself, so, yeah.” Well, that was awkward, you think, as Doe closes the door, leaving your room to yourself.
Just when you think you're free, Cranium speaks through your room.
“Miss Pravda! I do not mean to intrude, but I noticed a few helicopters coming in to land, and they're not talking back to me.”
“Could just be a technical malfunction.” You answer, and the ship shakes and rumbles.
“What was that?” You ask, and Cranium, from the air answers your concerns.
You can feel pain in his voice. “They've opened fire! Missiles! They've breached me!”
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And das it senpaitachi, enjoy the update.
Moar Soon™
Aw yiss. Can't wait for more.
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