Thirty Minute Ponies

by Jordanis

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Random, Princess Celestia, Main 6, Princess Luna
Length: 4712

A collection of my entries for the 30-minute pony stories tumblr

Whenever I write something in response to a thirty minute ponies prompt, I will post it here. The prompt will be in the author's notes.

Published 2013-07-27 03:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-28 03:49:46 UTC

Imps

Spike ran as fast as his legs could carry him, which was not all that fast. His mouth hung open, desperately sucking in air to fuel his flight, and his throat burned with every ragged breath. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat, and he felt that if he kept going, it would definitely just explode, pop!, and that would be the end of him. Here lies Spike, died of running away! Huh! Not that his pursuers cared. He willed his legs to move a little faster, and continued to run.

Behind him, he heard the howling of the monsters on his tail--definitely louder than last time. He grimaced. They were still gaining on him, slowly making up his head start. They were going to catch him, and then...! He shuddered in mid stride. Best to try not to think about it. He swallowed the lump of fear in his throat, and chose an alleyway at random to turn into.

He couldn't give up. Every moment he kept moving was another moment his tormentors might suddenly grow bored, or be distracted by something more appealing than him. Yes, that was it. That was the hope he was holding out for! Gotta have hope. Yeah! He dodged around another corner, and tried to ignore the banshee cry behind him,

"SPIIIIIII-IIIIIKE!"

Left here. And here. Now a right. Bear left at Mr. Davenport's shop. Scuttle down the side alley next to Sugarcube Corner. Maybe he could make it to the Library! They'd be expecting that, wouldn't they? But they were behind him, still gleefully calling his name, and the Library was in front of him now, a straight shot down the street. Hah! Hope flared even brighter in Spike's overworked heart as he surged toward safety.

They weren't behind him. Or... two of them still were, but the third landed with a thump in front of him, right in front of the door to the Library, and in that moment Spike truly knew despair. Her face was split with what he was sure was the most sinister grin anypony had ever grinned ever since at least the last time the Elements had been used.

Spike painted his face in determination. NO! He had been so close! He couldn't give up! Never! By... by Celestia, and Luna, and Twilight, and the Noble Dragon Code, he had to fight! He desperately tried to turn away from his course, feet scrabbling at the dirt. He reached for the next nearest building, some poor pony's house, hoping to sink his claws into it and to try to climb out of reach of the demons.

He didn't make it.

The other two tackled him to the ground, giggling their little heads off. Three pairs of hooves, one white, one orange, and one yellow, descended upon Spike and set to dragging him off with a triumphant cry.

"CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS DRAGON STYLISTS YAY!"

Author's Note

Prompt: Spike didn't make it.

I Can Fly, My Friends!

Trixie tossed her head with a flourish, her horn glowing, and a line drew itself in the earth before her, erupting into a fountain of white-hot sparks. She braced herself upon her makeshift stage, splayed her hooves, and regarded the great dark goat on the other side of her wall down the length of her muzzle with all the smug condescension she could scrape up.

Despite the goat's height, Trixie's perch on the great slab before the cliff wall forced him to look up at her with his solid red, faintly glowing eyes. One eyebrow lifted infinitesimally, but the effect of his disregard was marred by the way he cradled one of his front legs, and by the hitch in his heavy breathing. Twilight had been so close.

Trixie glanced back at the violet heap just behind her. Twilight had almost done it. She'd had the demon on the ropes, but... she'd been too clumsy with her new wings. He'd seized one in his mouth and wrenched her to the ground, and Twilight hadn't been prepared for that new pain. It had been kid's play for the ancient evil to wrench the wing-shoulder out of joint against Twilight's still fledging flight muscles, and with a great shake of his head, he had flung Twilight through the air as she screamed. Trixie had heard the long bone of the wing snap wetly. Twilight had landed, the scream had cut off, and she had not gotten up.

So here Trixie was, then. A small, bitter smile graced her lips. Trixie could see the shape of it now—she could see her place, and it wasn't in the spotlight. She was a bit player beside Twilight Sparkle, hardly to be missed. The show would go on without her, but it needed Twilight.

And the show must go on.

Her bitter smile disappeared behind an arrogant grin. She arched her neck and reared onto her hindlegs in wordless challenge. The wind even co-operated, and her cape streamed out behind her.

Her horn lit, and she charged down from her stage. With a flash, a dozen images of herself appeared in line with her, galloping toward her foe. But Grogar's eyes pulsed a brighter red, and he locked his gaze on the true Trixie immediately. She had no time to try a plan B—immediately Grogar charged head-first into her with a low, guttoral growl. She had only a moment to notice the tip of one of his horns pressed against her belly before the charge crushed her against the cliff wall.

Trixie did not scream. Her back half was afire with confused pain, and as she looked down, she saw blood, and a black horn buried in her gut. She clutched at the goat's head, clamping her teeth to one of his ears in stubborn defiance. Her eyes squeezed shut against the pain, but the corners of her mouth forced themselves up into a teeth-baring grin.

For one night only, the Great and Powerful Trixie would top the bill above Twilight Sparkle. And the Great and Powerful Trixie would live forever.

She pulled together the last scraps of her will. Her horn burned white, and white light streamed between her screwed-shut eyelids.

On with the show!

Author's Note

Prompt: You can kill a pony, but you can't kill an idea.

The Clash

Canterlot was calling in the middle of the night. The belch of green fire singed the edge of Spike’s basket and dropped a scroll, tightly bound in a violet ribbon, directly onto Twilight Sparkle’s sleeping face. Blearily, Twilight took hold of it in her magic and broke the seal, more or less by reflex. It was from Luna, of course—who else, at this hour?—and Twilight instinctively tilted the letter away from Spike in case it contained something that he shouldn’t read, but Spike hadn’t even woken up for the delivery. No such luck, anyway--and it was terribly brief:

My dearest Twilight,

As of this evening’s repast, a formal state of war has been declared between myself and my sister. Though battle has not yet been joined, I felt it best to beseech thee immediately for thy aid.. and thy loyalty. Come out of thy library, please, and meet me down by the river at the usual spot.

The Night’s age is coming, and the Sun’s is at an end, if thou will aid me. Please hurry.

Love,

HRH Princess Luna Revenia

Twilight grimaced. She’d known this was coming. The tension at the palace had been buttery-thick when she’d been there last month. The entire staff had been tip-hoofing about, terrified of what might next transpire between the two eldest princesses.

Most of the visit had been spent with Celestia and Luna each taking turns trying to slyly (they thought, apparently) coax Twilight into their camp. Celestia had plied her with books from the restricted section of the archives, but Luna had been… most persuasive that night. Luna was lucky they’d already been together for half a year, or Twilight might have been very put out that Luna thought she could be bought that way.

That it had worked was quite beside the point.

Twilight lit her horn and concentrated on her memory of the spot by the river. Her pool had been growing steadily since she’d sprouted wings, and Canterlot was now well within range, so long as she was only teleporting herself. With a flash of light, she was gone.

And with a flash of light, she appeared, just where she meant to. Luna was already there, and her face lit up when she saw Twilight. Immediately, she hurried forward and gathered the smaller alicorn into a tight hug.

“Thou camest,” she whispered as she pulled back to look at Twilight.

Twilight smiled softly, and leaned forward to lay a gentle peck on the tip of Luna’s nose.

“Of course I did, for you,” Twilight rolled on immediately, before Luna could question it further, “Now, what are we planning?”

Luna grinned wickedly. “Come to our quarters. We have prepared an itemized campaign list of pranks, backups, and alternates.”

A matching smile spread across Twilight’s face.

“Now thou art speaking my language, Luna.”

Author's Note

Prompt #468: A situation in which Twilight had to go against Celestia.

There's a Hoof, My Trusty Friend

Luna awoke, uncharacteristically, in the middle of the morning, perhaps three hours after sunrise. Her head was not pounding. It was far, far beyond pounding, into a cacophony of pain that made up a constant, unending roar. With a moan, she rolled out of her bed and onto the floor in an undignified tangle of legs, wings, mane, and blankets, making a sound like an enormous sack of potatoes being dropped.

She struggled weakly, slowly fighting her way out of the blankets, and with a final heroic effort, staggered to her feet so that she could dunk her head into the bowl of water on her nightstand. When she ran out of breath, she raised her head just enough to get her nose clear of the surface, then began sucking the sweet, sweet water greedily down.

When the bowl had been licked dry, she slowly raised her head again, her eyes squeezed down to slits. What had she done to herself? Her brow furrowed a little further as she struggled to remember, and she looked around her room for any clues. Her eyes settled on an a pair of empty bottles, strewn haphazardly near the fireplace, and she got to her wobbly hooves to make her unsteady way over to them, to see what they were.

Applezap, read the top of the label, with Fruit Alcohol below, and a reassurance that it was Distilled from 95% Selected Apples. That would more than explain her head, at least, but why... would... she...

Luna's heart and expression sank, as more of her memories began to bob up through the fog of last night's consumption. She remembered, now. Oh, Moon, she remembered. Moon, hah! Hahah! She'd be back there soon enough, as soon as Celestia caught wind of this! Oh stars. She half-sobbed to herself and sank back to the floor next to her failed memory erasers.

Before she had a chance to even think about what she could do next, there came a knock on the door, and a soft voice calling her name. It was Twilight, and that was much, much worse than if it had been Celestia.

“Luna,” called Twilight again, “Are you in there?”

Luna curled herself up into a ball and thought thoughts of nonexistence, willing Twilight to pass the room by, and go looking somewhere else.

“Luna, I'm coming in, okay?”

Her heart was somehow a block of ice, and beating like a hummingbird's wings at the same time. She curled up tighter, hiding her nose under her hind leg and covering her face and head and neck with her wing.

She heard the door open. A few hoofsteps, and she shivered involuntarily. A gasp, the sound of running hooves, and she tensed up, trembling all over, waiting for the inevitable.

The hooves skidded to a stop behind her, and suddenly there was a warmth against her back, the feel of a foreleg across her shoulders, a wing hesitantly settling over her body. Luna flinched, and a litany began to spill from her mouth.

“...sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, we are so sorry, please...”

She tuned in to Twilight's voice again, which was coming out in a quiet rush as its tone turned to confusion.

“--'s wrong, Luna? Please tell me! Are you alright? Are—what are you sorry for? Luna?”

“..sorry, sorry, please...”

“Luna—what? Are you—” Twilight cut herself off, huffed, and with a quiet hum, gently pried Luna's wing up with her magic.

Luna's eyes were pinpricks, frozen in fear as their gazes met, and Twilight sagged. Then, hesitantly, she bent down, and pressed a kiss between them. When she pulled her head back, Luna's eyes were wide again, staring back at her in disbelief, and Twilight blushed and looked away.

“I never said,” she murmured, “that I didn't like it.”

Author's Note

Prompt #538: Last night, two ponies kissed for the very first time. What happens today?

Title is a modified lyric from Auld Lang Syne.

Slight edit from how it went out to TMP: 100% changed to 95% for referential humor purposes.

Apparently Luna's panic didn't make sense to the TMP folks, so let me lay this out to anyone who is similarly confused: last night, Luna drunkenly kissed, with wild abandon, the one pony who had become her friend, who also happens to be the one pony whom (Luna feels) Celestia cares for most in the world. When Luna stopped kissing, she saw a big, wide-eyed look on Twilight's face, panicked, and fled back to Canterlot to drown her mistakes in Pure Fruit Alcohol, and that is where Twilight catches up to her the next morning in the above story.

The magnitude of her panic is the point of the story: it's irrational and overblown, because it's born of lingering guilt for the Nightmare and a rock-bottom sense of self-worth born from the same. The fact that she's panicking is supposed to be suggesting something about the sad state of how she sees herself, but apparently that didn't get across. I don't know whose fault that is.

Chateaux Cheval Bleu

Commander Hurricane would have approved, thought Rainbow Dash. A moment later, she scrunched up her nose in distaste. Great, now even the inside of her head was starting to sound like Twilight! This was getting out of hoof.

She shook her head, still frowning, as she swooped through the gap in the cloudbank. It was a thick bank—even at Rainbow's habitual pace, there was a long moment of shade before she emerged through the other side of the wall of cloud. There wasn't much more sun on the other side than there had been inside the tunnel, but it was enough to be noticable.

The reason it was still so gloomy was easy. Or, well... easy enough to say, anyway. It was an entire, enormous room in a really big cloud, and as easy as it had been to say “no problem!” to Twilight when she'd asked, it had not been easy to do.

The view opened up in front of Rainbow: a hundred yards away, the far wall loomed. The entire area had a cloud floor, and looking up, maybe fifty yards overhead, there was a puffy, light grey cloud ceiling. And smack dab in the center was the only dash of color in the whole place: Rainbow's cloud house, same as ever. Except for the 'being built into an enormous cloud fortress' part. That was pretty new.

It was... weird. A room this big was just wrong. It was too big to feel like 'inside', so it felt like she ought to be able to see free, open sky somewhere. The fact that she couldn't set all her instincts to twinging, telling her it had to be some kind of horrible, freak thunderstorm artifact, or the center of a tornado, and to get get getout getout. All she actually did was ruffle her wings for a moment before taking off again, towards the house.

Yeah, this really needed to change. She couldn't live like this any more. Twi was gonna have to find a new way to deal with her little infestations. She was a princess—couldn't she just make it legal to turn ponyrazzis into frogs or oranges or something?

That seemed like it would be for the best for everyone.

Author's Note

Prompt #550: Two or more of the Mane Six move in together

Immortal Alicorn Quasigoddess Talk

The moon rose, and the sun set. Celestia stepped off her balcony and into her bedroom, and Luna followed after her. The marks of a long day were plain on the larger pony; her hooves barely cleared the ground, her mane and tail trailed along limply after her, and she punctuated all this droopiness by tumbling onto the bed in an undignified sprawl. Luna was used to these minor theatrics, and settled herself neatly to Celestia's left, just behind her shoulder. She gave her sister a long moment in deference to the depth of her desperate flop before speaking.

“And how were they today, dear sister?”

Celestia's deep sigh trailed off into a quiet whine. “Ennnnh.”

Luna nodded sagely. Her horn lit, and she took Celestia's mane in her field. “No worse than usual, surely?”

Her sister's nose wrinkled, and she raised a hoof to waggle back and forth non-commitally. Finally, she managed to find real words. “Have you seen Duchess Cloudsdale's aid bills? They're straight out of the Archives. Positively antique. Never mind last year, they're last century.”

Luna made a sympathetic clucking noise. Celestia's hair divided itself by color in her field, floating in midair. “Oh, I do know what you mean. Did you see what Count Vanhoover has been advocating? Maple syrup for the poor! I do believe he genuinely thinks that he is setting style for the entire Chamber. Or he did,” Luna smirked slightly, “Alas, I had to tell him that his great-to-the-nth grandmother had proposed the same thing twelve hundred years ago. He was quite disappointed, poor colt.”

Celestia snorted quietly, “Well, it could be worse. Count Broadsdale propositioned me today. Again. 'We could do so much for all the little ponies together, your highness!' Hmph! He just wants access to the royal treasury.”

Luna's shoulders were shaking with repressed laughter, and the prench braid in Celestia's mane hung half-finished before her. “Oh! Oh goodness. I did manage to stop him before he could start on the vision of airship docks 'from sea to shining sea', but he used the same line on me last night! Word for word!”

Celestia looked back over her shoulder at Luna, aghast, “He didn't!”

“He did!”

“That cad!”

Luna smirked, “Oh dear. Art thou... jealous, Celly dear?”

Celestia huffed. “Don't be ridiculous. It's just rude of him to try to play for both our approval at once. With the same cheesy proposal taglines! It's tacky.”

“And you just keep him around to stare at his flanks, anyway.”

“Ye—no! Who told you that?” Celestia was glaring now, though the effect was rather ruined by the fact that Luna had decided to split her mane into two four-colored braids.

Luna laughed, head back, “Oh, sister. You are ever transparent to me,” she lowered her gaze to regard the larger alicorn again, and her grin turned downright predatory, “But dear Celestia,” she murmured, “what will poor Twilight think, when she catches thee staring at another?”

Celestia sputtered something about 'my student', her face beet-red, but Luna was too busy laughing to catch it.

Author's Note

Prompt #551: They may be immortal alicorn princesses, but above all else, Celestia and Luna are sisters.

Native Soil

Applejack was getting to be a mite concerned.

It was midafternoon, and she'd found Fluttershy in an earthy hollow between the roots of one of her biggest apple trees, sleeping peacefully. Now, that would've been just odd by itself, but this was the third day in a row that AJ had found Fluttershy there. That pushed things right out of odd and into downright peculiar.

She looked... well, she looked mighty adorable, truth be told. She was curled up in a little ball, chin on her hooves, mane over her eyes, tail over her nose, and a faint smile on her lips. Applejack hated to wake her, but the tree needed care and watering, after all the ruckus with the fruit bats—ole Johannes here had been right in the thick of things, just steps from where they'd accidentally turned Fluttershy into a fruit vampire. And... really, Fluttershy needed to nap in her own bed. Bad enough having a pegasus in the trees all the time, let alone under 'em.

She nudged the yellow pony, who only curled up tighter. Applejack sighed, and nudged harder.

Fluttershy's head lurched up, and for just a moment, Applejack could have sworn her friend was glaring at her with red in her eyes. But no, no... that was silly. On looking again, the farmer only saw Fluttershy squinting at the sunlight and blinking owlishly at her.

“Shy,” she began, “This is gettin' to be downright peculiar.”

“Oh, um, I'm sorry.” Fluttershy seemed to wilt, “It's just, I haven't been able to sleep the last few nights, and it's just... so nice, and cozy right here. I feel like nothing could ever hurt me while I'm sleeping here. It feels like... like this is my home more than my cottage is.”

She paused again. Applejack was staring at her, her brow creased in puzzlement. It seemed to Fluttershy like a good time to apologize again, so she did, while staring at the ground at her hooves.

Finally, Applejack sighed. “Shy, I gotta water and prune and dig weeds and everything around these trees. You know darn well it don't suit anything bigger than a mouse to burrow here.” Fluttershy did know—she'd had to mediate several disputes between Applejack and some larger burrowers who had tried to make their homes in the orchard. She shrank, and nudged (it was far too gentle to be called a kick) the ground with her hoof.

“Oh, hay, Shy. Don't look like that, it jest ain't gonna work! Ah mean, ah'd dig your burrow out and cart it to your cottage if you wanted, but y'jest can't keep sleepin here!”

Fluttershy looked abruptly up at Applejack. “Really?!” She blinked, then dipped her head again, “That, um, sounds very nice, actually...”

Applejack stared for a little while, then left to get the cart.

Author's Note

Prompt #558: In a hole in the ground, there lived a pony.

By Any Other Name

Twilight Sparkle was battered and bruised, and doing her best to ignore the set of long, weeping scratches across her right shoulder. She had eyes only for the being in front of her. The bug. The enemy.

She was much as Twilight remembered her. Tall, proud, shining gloss black and green, and smirking with fangs that, for all the instinctual fear they evoked, were a sideshow to her enemy's true terrors.

They circled each other slowly, Twilight glaring and the bug smirking. The rough rock of the chamber's walls was scarred from their initial probes of each others' defenses, charred and cratered in two or three spots. Twilight was certain now that her enemy was weaker than the last time she'd encountered her, but she was also definitely smarter. Nopony stood with Twilight this time.

Twilight had been suckered, she knew. They all had, of course, but Twilight automatically blamed herself. A few reports of refugee changelings in the forest, and away they'd gone, flush with confidence.

They'd expected the cave, but they hadn't expected it to run so deep. The changelings had waited until she and her friends decided to turn around before attacking. At the time, Twilight had thought herself lucky to slip away, but her current predicament put a mocking lie to that thought. She had still been dancing to the unheard piper's tune.

And her friends. She didn't—didn't even know.

Oh, Celestia.

The Queen struck then, her power whipping across the chamber and lashing Twilight, catching her by surprise. She struck the wall before she struck the ground, screaming at the searing line that ran down her side and masked the pain of the impact. The Queen giggled quietly to herself.

Twilight heaved herself to her feet as her enemy approached, shaking her head to try and clear her vision. She could barely raise her head, but she looked up to watch the Queen's eyes. The bug was smiling

“Oh, Twilight,” she paused, running her tongue idly across a fang, “and here I thought I knew what a perfect day was. But seeing you here, after seeing the last of your friends--”

Twilight's eyes widened in horror for a split second, and the decision was made by instinct. She lunged with an incoherent yell. When the Queen's counterstroke landed, she was not there. She was behind the bug, then was gone again as the enemy's power crashed down and rent the floor where she'd stood.

She flashed into being again directly under the bug's belly. With a half-terrified, half-loathing scream, she jammed her head upward, horn first, and her damp eyes streamed with white light.

***

Twilight retched in the farthest corner of the chamber, as far as she could from the remains of the Queen. The bug. The enemy... but never Chrysalis.

Author's Note

Prompt #527: Her First Kill

Gifted

Celestia stood out starkly in the pre-dawn darkness on the balcony. She was smiling down at Twilight, and the smaller alicorn couldn't help but apply such adjectives as 'shining' and 'radiant' to the larger pony. It was intensely, blindingly joyous, despite the gloom.

“I have something to give you, Twilight,” she began.

Twilight, not quite entirely awake, made an inquisitive noise.

“Oh yes.” Celestia nodded, the grave motion contrasting with her smile to match the twinkle in her eye.

Twilight perked up a bit, tilting her head to the side and fixing her mentor with the most attentive look she could muster.

Celestia's smile seemed to manage to grow, if only just a bit. “Close your eyes, Twilight.”

Twilight did, instantly.

“Now reach toward me with your magic.”

This Twilight also did. For a long moment, she stood there waiting, trusting. Then, she heard the faint chime of Celestia's magic and--!

Twilight staggered. Her hooves splayed out instinctively to buttress her against the weight, and the glow around her horn doubled, tripled, quadrupled in intensity. She trembled once, and then was still—rock-solid under the load, panting softly.

She could just make out a quiet shuffle over the hum of her own magic, and then she felt the gentle press of soft fur and downy feathers against her side, hot breath near her ear as Celestia murmured further instruction.

“Very good, Twilight. Oh, very good...” Celestia's voice was a little frayed around the edges, a little shaky, a little breathy, pitched low for just the two of them.

“Now Twilight, my magnificent Twilight... lift!”

Every muscle in Twilight's body began to tremble as she gathered her power to try to obey, when she was cut off by Celestia one last time. Her voice had dropped to a whisper.

“And I will be here after you are done, Twilight. No matter what.”

Twilight let out the breath she had been holding, and slowly refilled her lungs. Her corona grew brighter one last time. Her head rose in one slow, smooth arching of her neck, and when she faced the horizon, the first light of the dawn warmed her cheeks and her unfurled wings.

Twilight opened her eyes, blinking owlishly at the sunrise, her mouth hanging open wordlessly.

It was the most beautiful thing Celestia had ever seen.

Author's Note

Prompt 553: Giving somepony a gift that resembles your cutie mark has a special meaning.