Thirty Days, Thirty Twilights

by Esle Ynopemos

Rating: teen
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 26446

A daily-updated collection of short stories featuring the loveliest of lavender librarians.

Spike, take a note.

Herein is contained a collection of precisely thirty stories, some related, some independent, each taking no more than thirty minutes to write. Their one unifying theme: all of them will be about me, Twilight Sparkle. These stories will cover a broad range of genres and topics, such as comedy, adventure, horror, and yes, even romance. They will be published one per day every day until all thirty stories have been posted. That makes this a month-long endeavor, Spike, so I hope you brought the extra quills.

It is my hope that with this literary experiment, I will be able to prove that... Spike, are you just doodling a picture of yourself wearing armor? Please pay attention, Spike, this is for science!

Part of the Thirty Minute Series. Find Rarity here, Rainbow Dash here, Pinkie Pie here, Fluttershy here and Applejack here.

Published 2013-10-15 23:00:03 UTC
Last updated 2014-05-24 17:20:42 UTC

3: A Unicorn Thing [Comedy] [Romance]

((Prompt: Applejack walks in on a romantic moment between Twilight and Rarity.))

“...So you see, darling, it is utterly impossible for you to have seen what you think you just saw.” Rarity brushed an unusually disheveled lock of her usually impeccable mane out of her face with a hoof. She frowned and looked around herself. “Where did I put my brush?”

Twilight Sparkle tapped her on the shoulder from behind with the object. Her cheeks were flushed dark red. “It fell off the bed when we...”

“When we were having that completely normal, friendly discussion,” Rarity quickly finished for her, “yes, thank you.” She took the hairbrush in her magic and got to work untangling the snarl her mane had become.

Applejack cocked her eyebrows. “Discussion?” she asked incredulously. “I didn't see much of anythin' bein' discussed, 'less y'all were usin' Morse with your tongues or somethin'.” Slung over her shoulders, forgotten, she still had the torn overalls she had brought to Carousel Boutique to see if Rarity was available to mend them.

“I have already told you, dear,” said Rarity, wincing as she tugged at a knot. “That was a unicorn thing. Twilight, back me up, please.”

Twilight pointedly avoided eye-contact. “Yes,” she said quietly. “It, uh, stimulates bloodflow to the horn.”

“I reckon there was blood flowin' to all sorts of parts,” Applejack said.

Twilight sank into the bed, burying her face in the pillows.

Rarity's mane started to resemble the shape it usually held. “Listen, darling. If, hypothetically, there were any truth at all to these crass assumptions you seem ready to leap to, have you any idea of the scandal it would cause? Twilight is a newly-made member of royalty. I am, as you are as well, one of the mares who helped to get her there. I can only imagine the kinds of nasty rumors that would start flying if word got out!”

She leaned in close to Applejack and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “So you understand that it's better for everypony if you just don't tell anypony about what you saw here, right? Nopony needs to be confused by stories of something that, like I explained, didn't happen.” Her eyes shifted to the overalls and she put on a quick smile. “And in the meantime, I am sure I can get those fixed up for you, completely free of charge.”

Applejack's eyes narrowed. “You tryin' to bribe me, Rarity?” She glanced back at the old denim on her shoulders. “Are you tryin' to bribe me with overalls?”

Rarity pulled back. “W-why, of course not,” she sputtered. “I was just, you know, implying that since we're all friends here, and friends do things for each other...”

Applejack huffed and pushed past her to meet eyes with Twilight. “Twi, hon?”

Twilight looked up at her guiltily.

Applejack gave her a kind smile. “You don't need to worry, hon. Whatever Rarity was or wasn't gonna offer,” she shot a glare Rarity's way, “I wasn't plannin' on tellin' anypony what I saw. I'm honest, but that don't mean I don't recognize when somethin' ain't my place to tell.”

Twilight shook her head. “You can tell if you want, Applejack.”

Rarity squeaked. “Twilight, what are you—”

Twilight brushed a hoof on Rarity's cheek. “I love you, Rarity,” she said. “I don't want to hide that. Not anymore.”

“But the scandal...” Rarity protested.

Twilight gave her a sly grin. “Well, maybe we'll just have to do something worth starting a scandal over.”

Applejack coughed into her hoof, backing quickly out of the room. “I think I'm gonna go, before I end up witnessin' more, uh, 'unicorn things.'”

“Mmh,” responded Rarity. “Leave the overalls on my desk downstairs. I'll get to them in an hour... oh!” Twilight drew a pleased noise from her. “Maybe more like two or three...”

4: Keep Talking [Slice of Life]

((Prompt: Twilight is grievously injured and only Pinkie Pie can save her.))

Teleportation was a dangerous spell. Twilight Sparkle had always known that. From the very first day she had learned it, she had always been aware of the risks. Know where you're going, that was the rule. If she couldn't see her destination and know for absolute certain it was clear of obstacles, it wasn't worth it. Better to walk, and be a bit late.

Sloppy, she chastised herself as she laid in the grass, her breaths made short and ragged by the foreign object lodged in her chest. It was a frisbee. A couple of colts had been tossing a frisbee back and forth when Twilight had glanced at the clock in her library, realized she was late for a scheduled play-date with Pinkie, and flashed to the park in a burst of magic. Reckless. Stupid.

It was of some small consolation to her that she hadn't hit one of the colts. At least her mistake had only cost her own life.

A shadow fell over her. Twilight's sky filled with pink. “Wow, Twilight! I've never seen somepony catch a frisbee like that! How'd you do it?”

Twilight grimaced. “Pinkie,” she said. “Pinkie, get help.”

Her pink sky did not gallop off to find a paramedic. If anything, Pinkie drew closer. “But I thought you were supposed to catch it with your teeth, not your ribs. You should try that way next time.”

“Pinkie, please,” groaned Twilight, squeezing her eyes shut. “It hurts.” She could feel Pinkie roll her over with her hooves, sliding something underneath her. Celestia only knew what that was about. Why wasn't she running to get help? Why was she just standing there, yapping as though everything was fine?

Pinkie continued babbling. “I wonder why it's called a frisbee, anyway? It doesn't look like a bee at all. Maybe if you painted it yellow, and made buzzing noises when you threw it...”

A wave of anger surged through Twilight. “Can you not see I'm bleeding?” she snapped. The exertion sent her into a fit of coughs, filling her mouth with the metallic tang of blood.

“I sure can see that,” chirped Pinkie brightly. “Gosh, it's like strawberry syrup! Except, I bet it wouldn't taste very good on a bowl of ice cream. Hey, what's your favorite sort of syrup to put on ice cream, Twilight? Mine's strawberry, except maybe it isn't that anymore.”

Twilight moaned and rolled her head back. As if having a plastic disk buried centimeters from her heart wasn't bad enough, her friend seemed dead-set on talking her to death before she bled out.

“Twilight? Hey, Twi. Twiley-poo. Twinkie? Sparkly-pants?” Twilight felt a hoof tap against her cheek. “Stay awake, Twilight, we're almost to the hospital.”

“Wha?” Twilight tried to force her bleary eyes to focus, but pink was still all she could see.

The pink grinned brightly. “I think maybe you didn't feel the part where I got you on the stretcher, but that's okay. You've got other things on your mind. But it's super important you stay awake and focused. You can do that, right, Twilight?”

Twilight nodded slowly. Focus. The mass of pink was all there was to look at, so she focused on that.

“Good job. I knew you could do it, because you're Twilight Sparkle, and Twilight Sparkle is super good at focusing. Me, I'm terrible at focusing. I can't concentrate on something for more than a minute before I'm off talking about yellow frisbees with strawberry syrup on them!” Pinkie giggled. “It sure is a good thing you're gonna be just fine, Twilight, because otherwise I don't know who could ever get me to focus!”

Twilight's ears picked up the bustling sounds of the hospital. The sterile scent of polished tile floors met her nostrils. She found she couldn't muster the energy to give Pinkie a verbal reply, but she smiled for her. Pinkie was right. She would be just fine. Thanks to her, she was going to be just fine.

Author's Note

One of those tough choices in terms of tagging. It could be [Sad], if you interpret the final line as being a lie. You could call it [Dark], since it centers around a pretty nasty injury. But since the focus of the story is on there being more reason to Pinkie's actions than it sometimes seems, I went with the catch-all [Slice of Life] category. Not an especially good fit, but it works a little, I think.

5: The Go-Between [Comedy]

((Prompt: Rarity and Fluttershy have their first big fight.))

It was a Monday, and Twilight Sparkle was hard at work managing the Golden Oaks Public Library. She was a librarian, after all, and somewhere between all the firebreathing dragons, mad gods and lost civilizations, she had a duty to keep the library running. She was busily re-organizing the card catalog when a chilly breeze from the front door announced the arrival of a visitor.

Twilight turned to greet Rarity, who was shaking off the cold as she unwrapped herself from a neatly trimmed wool scarf. “Good morning, Rarity,” she said, waving with her hoof as she continued sorting the cards with her magic. “Are you here for the new issue of Saddle-Straps Monthly?”

Rarity shook her head. “Not right now, darling, no.” She paused. “Though I may be back for it later, if you could leave it out for me.”

Twilight smiled. “Of course.” She made a mental note to separate the magazine out for easy access later. “What brings you out here today, then?”

“I was actually wondering if you have seen Fluttershy,” Rarity said. “She missed our spa outing yesterday, and I haven't been able to catch her at her cottage.”

Twilight thought for a moment and shook her head. “She hasn't been by the library.” Her brows furrowed. “I hope she's all right.”

“She's fine, I'm sure,” said Rarity, once again donning her scarf. “No doubt she has found something small and furry she needs to rescue from the autumn weather.” She turned and opened the door. “Do let me know if you see her, darling.”

“I will,” Twilight called after her. The wind blew the door shut.

A few more minutes of card-sorting passed before it opened again.

“Fluttershy?” Twilight turned to see her yellow friend gently close the door behind her. “Did you talk to Rarity? She was just here looking for you.”

“Rarity?” Fluttershy blinked. “N-no, I haven't seen her. Why?”

Twilight shrugged, pushed one drawer of the card catalog shut and started on the next one. “She says you missed your spa date yesterday.”

Fluttershy shook her head. “No... our spa date is always on Tuesday. I can't go on Sundays, because that's the day I visit the hedgehogs. Rarity knows that.”

“Oh. Okay.” Twilight nodded. “So, what brings you to the library?”

Fluttershy opened her saddlebag. “I was just going to return... oh, dear.” Her ears sank. “I think I forgot it at home.” She spread her wings and nudged the window open, rustling the cards in Twilight's catalog with a rush of cold air. “I'll be right back. I'm sorry!”

Twilight had scarcely shut the window behind Fluttershy when the front door opened again. “On second thought,” said Rarity, “I'll just check that issue out now while I'm here.”

“Rarity, you just missed Fluttershy.” Twilight pointed at the window.

“I did?” Rarity tilted her head. “Did she say where she was?”

“She said Sunday was her hedgehog day.”

Rarity frowned. “I thought the things were down for hibernation.”

“Well, if you'd just hang around here for a minute,” Twilight said, “you can talk to her about it.”

“Keep her here, darling,” Rarity said, pushing the door open. “I just realized I forgot my library card.”

“Rarity, wait!” As the door shut, Twilight heard tapping on the window. Fluttershy hovered outside, a copy of Hummingbird Spotting in her mouth. Twilight pulled the window open. “Rarity was just here, Fluttershy! If you hurry, you can catch her.”

“Mff mm mff mf?”

Twilight levitated the book out of her friend's mouth.

“Thank you,” said Fluttershy. “What did she say?”

“About what?”

“About hedgehog day.” Fluttershy perched on the windowsill.

“Right, that. Rarity thought they were hibernating.” Twilight shivered as cold air flooded into the library.

A short, unhappy sigh escaped Fluttershy's lips. “She always does this. Making assumptions. Just because the hedgehogs are sleeping doesn't mean I don't have a reason to visit them.”

Twilight made a neutral noise. “Well, she just headed back to her boutique to get her library card. I'm sure you can catch her and explain things.”

Fluttershy nodded. “Okay.” She turned and flew off.

Twilight heard the door creak open. “Actually, wait! I think that's her right now!” she called out the window, but it was too late. Fluttershy was out of earshot.

“Silly me,” Rarity said, waving her library card in the air. “I had it tucked in the other pocket this whole time!”

“Fluttershy said she still visits the hedgehogs even when they're hibernating,” Twilight blurted.

Rarity's lip pouted out. “Well! I'm not a mind-reader! She needs to speak up about these things! Where is she now?”

“Flying to your boutique to catch you,” Twilight said. Her breath misted as all the library's heat escaped out the door and open window both.

“I'll go get her,” Rarity said, spinning back out the door.

“No, stay,” Twilight shouted. “She'll be back in just a minute!”

Door shut. Window open. “I didn't see her at her boutique, Twilight.”

“You two have the worst timing ever!” growled a frustrated Twilight. She pulled Fluttershy inside and slammed the window. “Stay,” she commanded. “Rarity said you need to speak up when a spa-date doesn't work for you.”

“I did speak up,” Fluttershy said, pouting. “I can't stay, I need to go fix a meal for Angel, but can you tell Rarity that maybe she needs to listen once in a while?” Window open.

Door open. “Oh, are we playing that game, now?” Rarity crossed her forelegs. “Twilight, please tell Fluttershy that she should be aware of how little her voice carries against the racket all those critters make.”

Twilight buried her face in her forehoof. “We are not doing this.”

“Racket?” Fluttershy paused in the window, turning. “Twilight, could you inform Rarity that the beautiful vocalizations of the woodland creatures is never a racket, and if she could learn to appreciate it instead of dismissing it as just... just 'noise,' maybe she would understand what I have to say?”

“Celestia, we are doing this.” Twilight slumped to the floor.

“Darling, please explain to the dear that we cannot all be so in touch with nature as she purports to be. For some of us, shrieking rodents give us headaches, not a sense of fulfillment.”

“Well, tell Rarity that if the noise bothers her so much, maybe she shouldn't bother—”

“Enough!” The library shook with Twilight's magic-amplified voice. She glared at her squabbling friends. “Either kiss and make up, or start tearing each other's manes out, or something, I don't care, but whatever you do, shut.” Her magic flared, pulling the the window shut. “The.” The door slammed shut as well. “Door!” She stamped her hoof on the ground. “It's freezing in here!”

Rarity and Fluttershy glanced at Twilight, then at each other. At length, Fluttershy coughed into her hoof. “Um, Tuesdays work best for me. Is that okay?”

“Tuesdays are just fine, darling,” said Rarity. “I'll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yes, have a good day.” They both departed from the library and went their separate ways.

6: This Will Sting [Romance] [Sad] [Slice of Life]

((Prompt: Character A has done or is going to do something which will hurt Character B, and A knows they’re going to hurt B, but A is going to do it anyway.))

“This is going to sting a bit,” Twilight said, holding a pair of tweezers in her magic. “But you're going to feel a lot better when it's done.”

Spike bit his lip and nodded. His claw gripped her hoof tightly, tensing in the anticipation of the pain. That anticipation, so often, was so much worse than the pain itself. She knew she would reach in, pull out the ingrown scale, and be done before he even felt it. But until she did, he would grimace and squirm and try to act brave.

Twilight frowned, her tweezers hovering over the infected scale. He was too tense; she couldn't get at it. She needed him to relax.

There was the temptation to tell him that Rarity would be proud of how brave he was being. That would definitely serve to make him unclench. But Twilight banished the thought from her mind. She couldn't keep using his crush like that. Not now that she and Rarity...

“Done,” she said, smiling at him.

Spike slowly opened one eye. “You are? I didn't feel a—ow!”

Twilight darted in, taking advantage of his distraction to pluck the scale out. Grinning, she held it in the pair of tweezers. The light glittered off its edges, and one end of it had a tiny red speck of blood stuck to the corner. “I am now,” she said, dropping the scale in his claws. “Good job, Spike.”

Spike turned the scale over in his claws. It was a little, tiny thing, but because it had grown in the wrong way, it had caused him no end of suffering over the past week. He held it up to the light. “I'm gonna give it to Rarity,” he declared.

Twilight's eyes flickered. “You're not going to put it under your pillow for the Scale Fairy?” she asked, wiping the tweezers clean and putting them away.

“Come on, Twilight, the Scale Fairy isn't real.” Spike rolled his eyes. “If she was, she'd get in the way of the Molted Spines Fairy!”

Twilight kept her face level. “Oh, of course. My mistake. But still, I'll bet the Molted Spines Fairy has a bit with your name on it somewhere.”

Spike scratched his jaw. “Maybe. But Rarity is making a new dress today, and I bet she could sew a dragonscale into it just like she usually does with jewels!”

Twilight shifted uncomfortably on her hooves. “That's very generous of you, Spike, but maybe—”

“And then she could have a little piece of me with her wherever she goes!”

Twilight's ears flattened. Her gaze shifted to her saddlebags, which, unlike the ones Rarity had made for all the others, was sewn with special thread, containing a strand from the seamstress's mane.

She glanced back at Spike, who clutched the scale to his chest with a dreamy expression on his face.

This was going to sting a bit.

“Spike,” Twilight said, motioning for him to sit down on the couch beside her, “There's something I should tell you. It's something Rarity and I both should tell you...”

Author's Note

Conveniently, the title doubles as a warning to Sparity fans.

7: Without Restraint [Slice of Life]

((Prompt: They danced / until rivers of sweat / poured down their sides / until their muscles / trembled / until they panted for air. / They danced / with all that they had and / all that they were. / They danced / because it was when / they danced / that they were / free.))

In her time, Celestia had known some truly exceptional dancers. There had been individuals, throughout history and across the world, whose movements were breathtaking to behold. Music could flow through their bodies like water. Their grace and agility astounded and delighted any who witnessed them. They could put such profound meaning into something as simple as a half-spin that it had brought the solar diarch to tears.

She had once known a fearless mare from beyond the eastern sea who used flaming rings, yet managed to never burn herself. She had seen an earth pony who could leap so high it seemed like he flew. She had spoken with a penniless vagrant who traveled the streets of Canterlot every night, dancing to a tune only she could hear. When Celestia had offered to hire her as the court's dancer, she declined, gesturing to the dusty alleys and telling her, “This is my stage, your highness.”

Celestia had met some fantastic dancers in her time. Twilight Sparkle was not one of them.

'Flailing,' in a word, covered much of what the unicorn filly seemed to be doing, though it did not quite capture the entirety of it. Her movements had as much rhythm to them as a jello salad. Legs would shoot out and wave around apparently at random as Twilight performed what appeared to be an impression of a slow-motion seizure. Her eyes were squinted shut as she bobbed her head up and down, her tongue poking out of her mouth in a comically overdone expression of concentration.

She looked like she was enjoying herself, at least.

Celestia's aide, Clip Board, hovered nervously at her side. “Your highness, isn't that your student?” she asked, clutching her namesake to her chest.

Celestia nodded. “She is.” She winced as one of Twilight's spins nearly ended in her overturning a table full of drinks. “I thought she might like it if I invited her to the Ball.”

Clip Board's eyes shifted back and forth. “Not to question the wisdom of that, your grace,” she said, her ear twitching as a sudden crash announced that Twilight's second spin had succeeded where the first had failed, “but do you think maybe you should do something about her?”

Celestia glanced around the ballroom. Most all of the guests—esteemed nobles, wealthy tradesponies, social climbers, the ponies that Canterlot and Equestria at large looked up to—were staring at her pupil by now. She could hear whispers spread through the crowds, accompanied by disapproving 'harumph's and the subtle sound of monocles being furiously polished.

“I believe you are right,” Celestia said, smiling at Clip Board. “I should indeed do something about her.” She strode forward, approaching the rhythmless, flailing purple mass of faithful student.

It took Twilight a few moments to notice her mentor standing over her. She slowed to a stop and looked up, blinking. Apprehension clouded the filly's eyes. “P-Princess?”

A grin spread across Celestia's features. She dipped her head and shook all six limbs, mimicking the jerky movements her student had been using. Golden-shod hooves flailed in every direction, and she raised her wings playfully toward the ceiling.

Joy filled Twilight's face as she joined Celestia. They danced, without heed to the shocked looks on the ponies around them, without hearing the crowd's murmurs. They danced in whatever way they pleased, without limit, without restraint.

They danced.

8: Two Ponies Walk Into a Bar [Sad]

((Prompt: Two ponies go to a bar. One gets extremely drunk.))

Applejack walked into a bar.

On her left was Rainbow Dash, already warming up for a competition of shots she was certain she would win, despite Applejack having drunken her under the table the last six times in a row. On her right was Pinkie Pie, debating aloud which sugary drink she should order first. Pinkie planned to drink them all by the end of the night, but the order mattered. Behind Applejack was Rarity, whom the three of them had badgered into coming with. The unicorn was not a stranger to alcohol—in fact, Applejack hoped Rarity wouldn't join in on the shots, because she suspected she would join Dash under the table if they went up against Rarity's deceptively hardy constitution—but it had taken some convincing to get her to enter the low-class dive that was Pinkie, Dash, and Applejack's favorite haunt.

Fluttershy was not with them. They had invited her along, but did not push very hard when she declined. It wasn't a surprise that crowds of drunk ponies were not Fluttershy's favorite thing. Twilight, also, had not come along. Busy with things at the library, she had said.

That had been a lie, but Applejack hadn't called her out on it. There was something eating at that mare, but Applejack trusted Twilight to speak up when she was ready to talk about it. She didn't let her concerns draw away from the grin on her face as she and her three friends found a table and ordered their first round.

“I'll admit, it isn't as filthy on the inside as I had believed,” Rarity remarked, drawing her hoof across the finished wood and inspecting it for dust.

Applejack chuckled. “That there's a glowin' recommendation. They oughta get that printed on a plaque.” She waved her hoof through the air. “'Not as filthy as I thought.' - Rarity.”

Rainbow Dash and Pinkie cracked up, while Rarity simply rolled her eyes. Their first round of drinks arrived; a strawberry daiquiri for Pinkie, a martini for Rarity, and a couple shots of whiskey for Rainbow and Applejack.

Applejack raised her glass. “Cheers.”

Glasses clinked together, and the start of a grand night together was upon them.

*

Twilight Sparkle walked into a bar.

She entered alone. None of her friends came with her. She had waited a good ten minutes after they had left her library and chosen a bar on the opposite end of town from them to be sure of that.

She wasn't certain why she hadn't gone along with them. Practically speaking, it would have been the best opportunity to tell them about the letter she had received earlier that day, and practicality had always been a trait Twilight sought.

Perhaps she just didn't want them to see her cry. Perhaps she didn't want Applejack to see her cry.

Twilight Sparkle entered the bar, alone, and sat down. She couldn't remember what she ordered, and when it arrived, she stared at the glass dumbly. It didn't really matter what was in it. What mattered was that when she drank it, a few of the words on that note from Celestia disappeared.

She took another, and tomorrow morning's train ticket in her saddlebag was erased from memory. Another drink, and her things were back in the library where they belonged, not hastily thrown into boxes bound for Canterlot. Four more drinks, and she forgot the reason she needed to say goodbye to Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie and Rarity.

Twilight Sparkle held up her glass, squinting at it through bleary, unfocused eyes. This was the drink, she decided. This was the one that was going to make her better. She had been searching all night for this drink. This was the drink that would make those three little words go away. Three pesky little words that she couldn't manage to say, even when Applejack had been right there and it was likely her last chance to say them.

“Cheers,” she muttered, and those three words disappeared.

*

Two ponies went to a bar.

It wasn't the same bar. They didn't go at the same time. They didn't go together.

Two ponies went to a bar.

One had a good time with her friends.

And one became terribly,

violently

drunk.

Author's Note

Two ponies walk into a bar. One rubs her forehead and says to the other, "I think I've had enough of this joke."

9: A Good Night [Romance]

((Prompt: The mane six all wake up in Sugarcube Corner after a wild night. But everypony remembers last night differently.))

Applejack's muzzle wrinkled as sleep slowly faded from her. Something brushed the end of her nose, and her eyes fluttered open to see what it was.

Upon discovering that it was a purple hoof, she grinned broadly and snuggled up closer to it. The faint lavender scent brought memories of last night to her, which she happily savored as she dozed. Sitting out on the newly fixed roof of the barn, sipping a mug of cider and staring up at the stars while Twilight recited the names of every one of them.

Applejack couldn't quite remember how they had gotten back down, nor falling asleep on the floor of Sugarcube Corner where she now found herself, but she knew it had been one of the best nights she'd had in a good long time. One she and Twilight would repeat at some point, if she got her way.

*

Rainbow Dash yawned and tried to stretch her wings, but found one of them pinned beneath somepony. She did not need to open her eyes to know who it was. She lay there, content to feel Twilight's warm, soft coat against her feathers and replay the previous night with her in her head.

It had been a playful game of cloud-tag. Twilight was still a terrible flier, no match at all for Dash, so she went easy on her. Never flying too fast for her to keep up. Always whirling just out of reach of her. Close enough that Rainbow could see the gleam of moonlight in her eyes. Close enough to catch her lavender scent every time Twilight beat her wings against the cool night air.

They must have come in the upper window of Sugarcube Corner at some point, because that was where Rainbow found herself now. Probably a good thing, because sweet rolls were an awesome breakfast to have the morning after the best night-flight Rainbow Dash had ever had. She couldn't wait for a chance to do it again.

*

Rarity quietly stretched her sore back. Sleeping on the floor was usually out of the question for her, but one look at the peacefully sleeping face before her reminded her why she had made an exception last night.

Fitting a dress for an alicorn had always been a challenge she had wanted to tackle, and Twilight had made it just so deliciously fun for her last night. They'd been up until the small hours of the morning, sharing wine, trying on gowns, telling stories and giggling all the while. Twilight's voice had carried a musical quality to it, and even as their conversation had dwindled with the late hours, it had still been an absolute pleasure to listen to her.

No doubt the wine was responsible for the gap in her memory between the Boutique and Sugarcube Corner, but waking up on the floor was a small matter compared to waking up next to Twilight. She nuzzled Twilight's forehead and closed her eyes. She would need to find some excuse to fit her for more dresses in the future.

*

Something shifted underneath Fluttershy's wing. Traditionally, this would be cause for alarm for the timid mare, but when that something was Twilight Sparkle, it drew only a happy sigh from her as she gave Twilight a gentle squeeze.

The previous night had been magical. She had shown Twilight to one of her favorite places, a small grove out in the woods. In the daytime, it was beautiful enough, but at night... The only thing more breathtaking than the sight of all those fireflies twinkling through the air had been Twilight's expression of pure wonder and joy as she beheld them.

She was not completely certain how they had gotten to Sugarcube Corner from there, but she was very certain that she would be taking Twilight back to that grove again. If that was all right with her, of course.

*

Pinkie had a tail to snuggle into, which she did with great gusto. It was a soft tail, very warm and cuddly, and it smelled like Twilight and it made her remember the great party she'd had the night before.

All previous party wisdom had held that parties were better when there were more ponies. This idea was seriously called into question, because there had been only two ponies present at last night's party, but it had been one of the best parties Pinkie had ever had. She and Twilight had danced, and laughed, and played games, and Pinkie had not even noticed there were no other ponies there.

She did not remember all the rest of her friends being there when she and Twilight had finally dropped from exhaustion, but it seemed to her an extra little bonus. One thing was for sure: she was going to have more two-pony parties with Twilight.

*

Twilight groaned, her eyes slowly opening. Her horn, her legs, her wings... her everything hurt. She felt like she had just run a marathon, fallen down a stairwell, and pulled an all-night study session all at the same time.

“Ugh,” she muttered, tenderly rubbing her head. “That's the last time I ever cast that 'Everywhere-at-Once' spell!”

She looked around her, finding herself cuddled on all sides by friends with sleepy smiles on their faces. A soft yawn built up in her. Okay, perhaps she couldn't quite rule out the possibility of ever using the spell again.

10: Under the Desk [Comedy]

((Prompt: A pony is trying to hide a love affair from another pony, but they're caught in the act.))

“So, I've decided to put Opalescence on a diet.” Rarity reclined on the sofa, sinking into the cushions just a bit. It was in the library to provide readers with a place to sit down while they read, but Rarity had dragged it over so that she could be more comfortable while she chatted with Twilight.

Twilight was somewhat less than comfortable as she sat at her desk, her smile a little too wide and her ears perked a little too far forward. “Oh, is that so?” There was an edge of impatience in her voice that cracked through the friendly mask she put on. She would have asked Rarity to put the sofa back, but doing so would grant Rarity a view of the backside of the desk, and that was to be avoided at all costs.

“I have to do something, darling. I love my dear Opal so, but she's been getting pudgy lately. Just filling up like a balloon.” Rarity gestured with her hooves. “Of course, as soon as I made up my mind about it, of course she's nowhere to be found, but rest assured, her next meal will be low-fat, diet brand cat food.”

Something brushed against Twilight's leg under the desk, and a bead of sweat formed on her brow. “Sure sounds nutritious!” she said. “Would you like to borrow a book on feline nutrition? We've got one in the...” Twilight suddenly realized that the pet care section of the library was right behind the desk. Rarity would notice for sure if she went there. “A-actually, uh, silly me, that book was checked out already. Sorry.”

Rarity smiled. “Thank you for the offer, anyway. Perhaps you can let me know when it comes back in, darling.” She paused, tapping her hoof against the edge of the sofa. “Say, Twilight. You haven't, by any chance, seen Fluttershy around here, have you?”

Twilight fought to keep her grin up. “Fluttershy? N-no, I haven't seen Fluttershy all day. Why do you ask?”

Rarity shrugged. “Oh, no reason. I thought I saw a blur of yellow and pink dart in here before I arrived, but it must have been my imagination.”

“Yes, it must have been,” Twilight agreed, a little too quickly. “Maybe it was some leaves on the wind or—” She was interrupted by a small squeak.

“Did you hear that?” Rarity's ears perked up.

“That... that was me,” said Twilight. She did her best to re-create the squeak. “I, uh, have the hiccups. Yes, the hiccups.” She squeaked again.

Rarity raised her eyebrows. “The hiccups? Have you tried a glass of water, darling?”

“I was just about to, but see, these are special, contagious hiccups.” Twilight nodded seriously. “I don't really want you to have the hiccups for the rest of the day, too, so you should probably leave before you catch them.”

Rarity smiled. “You are ever so thoughtful. Very well, I hope you get better soon.” She stood up and headed for the door. “Ta-ta, darling!”

The door swung shut. The library was still and silent for a moment. Finally, a yellow muzzle poked out from under the desk. “Is she gone?” asked Fluttershy.

“I think so,” said Twilight, offering the pegasus a hoof. Just as she was clear of the desk, the door swung open again.

“Oh, one more thing before I forget,” said Rarity. “Next Tuesday is—oh!”

Twilight and Fluttershy froze in one another's forelegs. Their eyes darted from Rarity, to each other, to the desk, and back to Rarity.

A pink blush washed across Rarity's face. “Oh... oh my. Oh dear goodness me. I, um,” she sputtered. “It... it can wait, I think. Just forget I was ever here, darlings.” She backed out of the door of the library, giving them a sly wink before shutting the door.

Twilight and Fluttershy stared at the door. “Do you think she knows?” asked Fluttershy.

Twilight flexed her wings anxiously. “From her reaction, I think she believes you and I are in the middle of a lesbian affair.”

Fluttershy breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness!” She ducked under the desk and came up with a litter of mewling baby kittens under her wings, along with their fluffy white mother. “If Rarity had found out Opalescence had kittens, she would have fainted!”

12: Student of Magic [Slice of Life]

((Prompt: One of the Cutie Mark Crusaders becomes an apprentice for one of the Mane Six after their cutie mark appears.))

“Is this some kinda joke?” Applejack furiously waved a piece of paper bearing a large, fancy, calligraphic heading. She slapped it down on the table and scowled at Twilight. “'Cause I don't think it's very funny.”

“It isn't a joke,” Twilight said in a placating tone. “I wouldn't joke about this, Applejack. The School only accepts a few dozen applicants every year, out of thousands.”

“She never applied!” Applejack cried.

Twilight shifted her wings. “I pulled some strings, and got an application filed for her,” she admitted.

Applejack stared at her like she was speaking a foreign language. “Why—why would ya do that, Twilight?”

“Your sister has a rare and unique gift, Applejack.” Twilight lit her horn and straightened the creases on the acceptance letter. “With proper academic training, she could re-write everything we currently understand about magic theory.”

“No.” Applejack shook her head and advanced on her friend. “No, absolutely not. Just 'cause you're a big-shot Princess now don't give you any right to march in here an' drag my little sis off to Canterlot to be some kind of lab-rat!”

Twilight held her ground. “Nopony is being dragged anywhere, Applejack. This is an invitation, not an order. Apple Bloom is free to accept it—or not—” Twilight raised her brows meaningfully, “as she wishes.”

Applejack scowled, but she backed up a step. “Twi, I don't know if you noticed, but Apple Bloom's an earth-pony.”

“She is,” Twilight said plainly.

Applejack rubbed her jaw. “I can't believe I gotta spell this out for ya, hon, but the place is called the 'School for Gifted Unicorns.' Capital 'U' and everything.”

“There is nothing in the bylaws that expressly prohibits—”

Applejack and Twilight's argument was halted by the sound of a filly clearing her throat. They turned to see Apple Bloom with the acceptance letter in her hooves, carefully studying it. “You mailed this one yourself, didn't you, Miss Twi?”

Twilight nodded. “As dean, I mail out all of the acceptance letters myself.”

Apple Bloom pointed to a hornwritten section on the back. “I reckon the others don't have this part, though, do they?”

Twilight shifted on her hooves. “That is correct, Apple Bloom. In addition to the traditional curriculum, you would also take part in some advanced studies directly under me.”

Apple Bloom slowly looked up at her. “Ya mean, I'd be like your... protege, or somethin'?”

Twilight smiled. “I've become partial to the term, 'most faithful student,' myself.”

A gleam grew in the filly's eyes. “You'd teach me magic?”

“Twi...” Applejack warned. She shot Twilight a look that promised unending misery if she sold Apple Bloom a dream she couldn't deliver.

The Princess of Magic's eyes flickered. She lowered her head so that her face was level with the filly's. “It... won't be an easy path, Apple Bloom. There's going to be a lot of things your classmates will be able to do that you... won't.” She brought her wingtip up to Apple Bloom's chin. “But there will be fewer of those things than some ponies will tell you, and far more things you can do that they can never dream of. I believe right down to the bottom of my heart that by the end of it, it will be you teaching magic to me.”

Apple Bloom looked up at Twilight, then to her sister, then to the letter. She sat in silence for a few minutes, reading and re-reading the letter.

Twilight glanced at the clock and stretched her wings. “Take as much time as you need to decide,” she said, turning back toward the door. “If you have any questions at all, you can ask me.”

“Just one question,” said Apple Bloom, setting the letter aside. “When can we get started, Miss Twi?”

13: Daring Do and the Princess of Magic [Adventure]

((Prompt: Daring Do teams up with one of the Mane Six to go on a rescue mission to save Rainbow Dash.))

“Be careful, spikes come out of that wall.”

Daring Do flinched back as a row of sharp spikes shot forward, missing her muzzle by an inch. She lifted her hoof off of the sunken tile she had stepped on, and the spikes pulled back into their holes with a mechanical clank.

She pushed her hat back. “How do you know so much about this temple?” she asked, raising a suspicious eye to her purple companion.

“This is one of my favorite books in the series,” Twilight Sparkle explained, carefully side-stepping the trap's pressure-sensitive trigger. “I've read it cover to cover half a dozen times, at least! Rainbow Dash couldn't have picked a better book to get trapped in if she tried.”

“You're not making any sense,” Daring grumbled, forging on ahead in the dark, gloomy tunnel. “You keep talking about books and characters... and why do you keep calling your friend Rainbow Dash? I thought her name was supposed to be White Lilly.”

“That's because that's the character she's taken the place of in here. Just like how I'm supposed to be an earth-pony named Mild Winters.”

Daring cast an incredulous glance back at the purple alicorn. She was very clearly not a middle-aged grey earth-pony with a beard. “If you're supposed to be an earth-pony, why are you casting a spell right now?”

“Invisibility,” Twilight said, her horn lighting the tunnel. “See, I'm not supposed to be here when you get captured.”

Daring Do's eyes narrowed. She ducked suddenly, and a dart sailed right over her head, clattering harmlessly against the wall. With a cry, she pulled one of Ahuitzotl's henchmen out of the shadows. His blowgun bounced on the floor as she knocked him out with a solid buck to the head.

Twilight's eyes went wide. “That... that didn't happen in the book.”

Daring patted down the unconscious stooge, relieving him of all his hidden weapons. “You said I would get captured,” she said. “I don't like getting captured.”

Twilight pointed a shaking hoof at the dart on the floor. “Th-the poison dart was supposed to hit you, and you'd fall asleep, and wake up tied to a post in Ahuitzotl's secret lair!”

“Good thing I ducked, then, huh?” Daring Do kicked at the dart.

“No! You don't understand!” Twilight went pale. “If things can happen differently here than they do in the book, then that means you won't escape the ropes, grab the Amulet of the Moon, and free Rainbow just before the pillar she's tied to falls into the chasm!”

“You know, I've never noticed before, but that guy really likes tying ponies up.” Daring Do rubbed her chin. “Maybe it's got to do with that third hand on his tail.”

“Daring, if Rainbow is hurt in here, I... I don't know what will happen to her in the real world!”

“All right, Princess, calm down.” Daring Do put a hoof on Twilight's back. “Panicking isn't going to do your friend any good. We need to think.” She tapped her hoof on the stone floor. “If what you said was supposed to happen, then maybe we might have a leg up on Ahuitzotl.” Her eyes fell on the prone form of the henchman. “I think I have a plan...”

*

Ahuitzotl cackled loudly as a limp Daring Do was carried into his lair. “Excellent! I knew you could do it, my loyal...” He stopped, rubbing his chin suspiciously. “Say, didn't you used to be less purple? And wingless?”

Twilight grunted in as gruff a voice as she could manage. “I, uh, fell in a patch of berries, your lordliness. And... um... I've always had wings. Yep, always.”

The creature scratched his head. “Very well. Get yourself cleaned up before you get my rug all sticky.” He dismissed her with a shooing motion. “Now then, Miss Do.” Ahuitzotl pulled out a coil of rope, grinning. “This will finally be the end for you...”

Daring's wings snapped up, flicking a cloud of dust into his eyes. “Not in this story!” She dove between his legs and kicked out, causing him to fall face-first onto the stone floor. “Twilight?”

Twilight carried an unconscious blue pegasus in her magic. “I've got her,” she called. “Oh, and the amulet is hanging from the second balcony on the left. The temple will start crumbling when you grab it.”

Daring Do saluted and took off into the air. Color slowly drained away from the world as the spell unwound itself, freeing Rainbow Dash and Twilight from the book.

*

Rainbow Dash's eyes fluttered open. She found Twilight sitting over her, a copy of Daring Do and the Amulet of the Moon resting between them. “T-Twi?” she said through cracked, parched lips.

“Shh,” said Twilight. “It's okay. You're fine now.” Twilight briefly stroked Rainbow's cheek with a hoof before standing up and taking a step to the side.

Rainbow Dash propped herself up to see Rarity, Pinkie, Applejack and Fluttershy all sleeping in a row on the floor, each with a different book clutched to their chests. Twilight sat down next to Rarity.

“One down, four to go,” Twilight said, pressing her horn against the trashy romance novel in Rarity's hooves.

14: A Room With a Door [Dark]

((Prompt: When one door closes, another opens.))

It was a very specific sort of dark in the room Twilight found herself in. The type of gloom that was too dim to make out any of her surroundings, but light enough to cast them all as vague shapes looming ominously over her. No matter how bright she lit her horn, Twilight failed to pierce the veil, resulting only in giving her night-blindness. It was as if the floor and walls outright refused to accept any light at all.

There was one thing she was certain of. This was not the library.

“Spike?” she called. Her voice did not echo; it fell dead against the darkness as though it needed light to be heard. “Owloyscious? Somepony?”

There was no reply. Oppressive silence smothered her like a blanket. Fingers of fear crept down Twilight's spine. Her coat itched and her tail swished back and forth anxiously.

She took a step forward and was surprised to hear the clop of her horseshoe echo against the stones in a way her voice had not. The sound rattled off of the half-seen walls, up and up, wandering like a lost soul as it told her of impossible heights, as though the room had no ceiling but shot forever into the sky.

Twilight looked up. There was a ceiling. Like the walls, she could just barely make out its shape a few feet above her.

She shook her head and steeled her nerves, ignoring the endless echoes as she made her way towards one of the walls. Twilight counted her steps, mapping out the layout in her head as she went. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Eight steps.

The wall was hard and smooth. It felt like glass, and was cold to the touch. She searched up and down for any kind of distinguishing feature at all, but it was just a flat black plane jutting directly out of the floor. Twilight turned the way she had come, and counted her steps to the opposite wall.

One, two, three, four, five. Five steps? Twilight blinked. That didn't make any sense. It had taken her eight to get from the center of the room to the wall, but now she had crossed the entire room in only five? She looked back at the wall she had come from, and that was when she saw it.

A green crystal was embedded into a silver frame halfway between the floor and the ceiling. Though Twilight had not seen any sign of it before, the crystal was the only thing in the room that emitted light. Below, shimmering in that sickly sheen it cast, was a door.

Twilight slowly shook her head. “No...”

It wasn't the door she had found deep within Sombra's passage in the Crystal Palace; she had personally seen to it that door had been cleansed of all its magic during the reconstruction of the Empire. But it could have been that door's twin. It was cracked open just a sliver, and Twilight was certain she could see something moving in the blackness behind it.

“No!” she cried. She tried to channel a beam of light, to strike the crystal and neutralize it before it could fill her head with nightmares and visions of failure and loss, but no magic rose from her horn.

Twilight could only watch in horror as the door slowly, inexorably, drew open...

*

“Twilight! Twilight, wake up!” Twilight felt little claws pushing on her shoulder. Her eyes slowly fluttered open to see Spike standing over her, concern written over his face.

“S... Spike?” Twilight pushed herself up.

“You were having a nightmare, Twilight.” Spike patted her back. “It's okay, you're awake now.”

Twilight let out a gasp of relief. “Oh, thank goodness, Spike. I dreamt I wasn't in the library, but some dark room with a...” She trailed off as her eyes took in her surroundings.

She and Spike were in the center of a dark room, just gloomy enough to reduce the ceiling and walls to vague shapes. On the wall opposite them, the door stood, firmly shut. The crystal glowered at them.

Spike frowned. “Don't you remember, Twilight? King Sombra threw us down here when he seized the Crystal Heart and took over the empire.” His expression turned to one of optimism. “But we're not beaten yet, are we, Twilight? We just need to find a way out of here, then we can rescue your brother and Cadance, and the other girls, and then we'll kick his sorry butt back out to the glaciers, right?” He turned toward the door, tapping his chin with a claw. “It's gotta have something to do with this door...”

15: Drink the Bottle [Slice of Life]

((Prompt: Tell me about a bottle.))

It had been sand once, as all glass was. Once, it had been a million grains whipping in the wind across the endless dunes of Saddle Arabia. A glassblower had scooped those grains up, melted them down and shaped them into the bottle it was today. It had contained water from a blessed spring once, and was given as a gift from a traveling merchant to a member of the nobility in Canterlot. It had been emptied of its spring water within a few decades, but the bottle itself had been kept for generations for its fine craftmanship.

Eventually, the noble house had run out of heirs and bequeathed the bottle, along with many of their possessions, to Celestia. It lay in the palace for many years, untouched, until a curious filly discovered it while browsing ancient relics with her princess. Celestia gave the bottle to her student as a gift, and so when Twilight Sparkle moved to Ponyville, so too came the bottle.

Now it stood by itself on a bedside table, currently serving as a reminder of how desperately little ponykind knew about dragons.

Deep tooth-marks scored the lip of the bottle, jagged scars running parallel along the glass. Dragons were not mammals; they lacked the capacity to suckle on something like a foal would for its mother's milk. When Spike had fallen too ill to chew his food, Twilight had thought to feed him medicine from the bottle, but because he was unable to drink from it, most of the medicine had ended up on the floor.

Which had been for the best, for what little medicine that had made it inside had had the opposite of its intended effect. One side of the bottle was blackened and melted from the noxious flames he had spewed as the medicine had only served to upset his stomach even further.

Residue from the ground carbon mixture Twilight had stirred the medicine in remained stuck to the inside of the bottle, glittering in the afternoon sun. She did not understand; chemically speaking, it was the same as the diamonds that had always seemed to bring life to his step and a sheen to his scales. It was simply derived from an easier to find and easier to process form so that she could feed it to him without requiring him to chew. Twilight possessed no means to grind up actual diamonds, for they were too hard.

Twilight's eyes shifted from the bottle to Spike. He lay in his little bed, groaning between labored breaths. He was uncomfortable to even be around, as a dragon's fever was hotter than a pony's by several orders of magnitude. The edges of his blanket began to fray and sizzle, and Twilight knew she would need to find a more fireproof place for him if it continued.

Her eyes slowly slid up to the globe on the shelf above. It was one of the things that had been part of Spike's collection the day he had undergone his spurt of greed-growth. Now, it slowly turned on its pivot, showing her a profile of Saddle Arabia as it came around. A thought formed in her head.

Perhaps it wasn't the mineral content that Spike fed on at all. After all, during his greed-growth, he had not really eaten any gems at all, yet he had grown to a monstrous size in a matter of minutes. The dragon had grown with his hoard.

She glanced back at the bottle. Even ruined as it now was, the glasswork was something that no longer existed in Equestria, making it one of the most valuable objects in the library. She seized it in her magical grasp. Maybe... just maybe Spike didn't eat gems because they were gems, but because they had value. If a dragon's life force was tied to the value of its hoard, rather than the physical content of it, then it followed that more expensive things would naturally be more nutritious.

The glass had once been sand, and now was sand once again as Twilight Sparkle pounded the bottle into dust. She whipped it into a slurry and fed it to Spike by spoon. Physically, it was little more than wet sand, but fiscally, it was the remains of the most expensive thing she owned.

Spike swallowed weakly. A few grains of priceless glasswork stuck to his cheek as his eyes fluttered open. “T-Twilight?”

16: Iron Will's Day Off [Comedy] [Slice of Life]

((Prompt: Iron Will's day off.))

While Twilight had not been directly involved in the incident with Fluttershy's assertiveness seminars, she had heard enough about it secondhand from her friends to get a rough description of the minotaur whose teachings had briefly turned the timid yellow mare into a violent rage-aholic. He wasn't that hard to spot; Ponyville never had very many towering, muscular, half-bovine, half-hominid, blue monsters with a tie and a buzz-cut.

The baseball cap and sunglasses hiding his face did very little to disguise his identity as he stood in the doorway to the library.

Twilight raised her eyebrows. “Can I help you?”

The minotaur jammed a thumb at his chest. “Iron Wil—uh, I mean...” He glanced up and down the street. “I mean, Iron Withers is here to do some reading. Are you gonna let him into your library?”

Twilight frowned. In her experience, anyone who referred to themselves in the third person was trouble. Paper-thin disguises and aliases were another strike against him, and a bit of loyalty to her friend tempted her to shut the door on him. However, it was a public library, and she couldn't very well turn him away. She shrugged and stepped aside. “What books are you looking for?”

“I was actually hoping to get a recommendation,” he said, marching in the door. He stopped, fists planted on his hips as he surveyed the bookshelves. “Iron Withers is all about relaxing. Give him a good book so that he can unwind, take a load off and chill out.”

With a wave of her horn, Twilight opened a few skylights, letting more light into the library. “Well, there are a few books on meditation and stress-relief in the self-help section,” she said, nodding toward a shelf on the far wall. “There's also some good escapist fantasies in the fiction aisle.”

“Good,” he said, nodding. “I'll take all of them.”

Twilight shook her head. “You can only check out one at a time. And I'll need to see your library card, Mr. Will.”

The minotaur backed up, waving his arms. “I think you have me confused for someone else. I am Iron With—hey!” He reached up above his head as Twilight magically lifted his baseball cap and sunglasses off. His shoulders sagged as he realized his ruse was broken. “Fine. You caught me. I'm Iron Will. The great assertiveness master needs help relaxing. You can start laughing now.” He sank to the floor, a pout forming on his lips.

Twilight cocked her head to the side, peering at the hat and glasses. “I don't get it,” she said. “What's with the disguise? It's not like there's anything wrong with wanting to relax.”

“Maybe not for some, but it is for Iron Will,” he complained. “My whole career depends on being the top dog, the alpha, the guy in charge. Do you know how exhausting it is to keep that up all the time?” Iron Will sniffed. “If ponies catch me laying back at all, they'll think I've gone soft! I'll be finished!”

Twilight rubbed her chin. She didn't really think it would be the end of his career if he was spotted lying down in a hammock, but she believed he believed that, at least. “I think I can solve your problem. All the books on relaxation I've ever read all say you need to start with a safe, peaceful place...”

*

Iron Will reclined on a pile of cushions, his head propped up on one arm so that he could read a book from his new favorite series. Headphones pressed over his ears played soft, smooth jazz to which he intermittently hummed along while he turned the page.

Near his door, inaudible to him through his headphones but quite audible to passersby outside, a tape-player turned up to full-volume played out a recording of him grunting and growling, along with heavy impacts and splashing water. On the outside of the locked door, hanging from the handle, was a note that read:

Back in 30 minutes.
Beating up sharks.

17: Pinkie Ships It [Comedy] [Romance]

((Prompt: Pinkie Pie becomes a pirate. Who is her first mate, and whom do they plunder?))

Twilight Sparkle had a word for days when one or more of her friends found a way to destroy one of the library's walls in a spectacular crash of splintering wood and scattering books. She called those days 'Thursdays.'

Still, Pinkie Pie outdid herself on this particular occasion. A terrific noise filled the hollowed-out tree as the ornately carved prow of a boat burst through the wall, emptying the contents of the 'C' shelf onto the floor. Leaves and shards of wood rained down on Twilight as the front portion of a schooner appeared where her fiction section ought to have been.

A shrill whistle sounded from somewhere above in the canopy of sails and broken branches. “Ahoy! Tree ho!” called the unmistakable voice of Pinkie Pie, recognizable even through her newly-acquired seafaring drawl.

Two ropes snaked down the side of the boat, landing on the ground at Twilight's hooves. Down one of the ropes slid Pinkie. She had a weather-beaten old sailor's jacket slung over one shoulder, a rubber sword tucked into a belt at her side, a hat made of folded newspaper and an eyepatch over her left eye. “Whee!” she squealed as she rappelled down to the floor.

Twilight craned her neck, still trying to come to terms with the fact that there was a boat in her library. “Pinkie, what—”

“Just a minute, lass,” Pinkie said, holding up a hoof. She stepped over to the second rope and peered up. “Arr you comin' down, me matey?” she called.

A soft, quiet voice from above answered. “N-no thanks. Why don't you just go ahead and plunder without me? I'll just be up here, um, tending the crow's nest.”

Pinkie gave the rope a sudden tug. With a squeak, Fluttershy fell from the deck of the ship, landing on a soft cushion that Twilight didn't dare guess when Pinkie had produced, nor from where. Fluttershy's tri-corner hat cocked loosely over the side of her head, and she wore a pair of billowy white striped pantaloons.

Pinkie gave her a hearty pat on the back. “The crow's nest is fine! I'm sure that when the crows get back they'll be really impressed by how good a job you did with it!”

Twilight finally found her voice at this point. “Pinkie, what—how did you—why is Fluttershy—” She stopped and took a deep breath. “Pinkie, where in Equestria did you get a ship?”

Pinkie lifted her eyepatch and momentarily dropped her accent. She rapped a hoof against the hull. “I keep her moored under the bridge in case of nautical emergencies.”

Twilight opted not to ponder how her friends had managed to move the boat across the two dozen blocks of dry land between the bridge and her home, angling instead for the more relevant question, “Why is my library suddenly the site of a nautical emergency?”

Pinkie grinned and flipped her eyepatch back down. “Because, landlubber, we're here to pillage your riches!” She slung a hoof around Fluttershy, drawing her up to her hooves. “Me first mate here, she's real keen to plunder your booty!” She gave Twilight a big wink.

Fluttershy went bright pink. “P-Pinkie!” she squeaked.

“It's true,” assured Pinkie. “She wants to swash your buckles. Hoist your mainstay! She means to go aft of the mizzen with you, and swab your p—”

“Pinkie!” Fluttershy cried. Her cheeks were a darker shade of red than Twilight thought possible.

Pinkie cleared her throat. “So, we're gonna take you captive with us. Y'know, if you're not busy with anything.”

Twilight's eyes swept across the swath of destruction in her library. She should have been a little angry, perhaps, but 'acts of Pinkie' was one of the first things listed in her insurance coverage. She glanced at Pinkie, who bounced cheerfully in her pirate garb. She then looked at the blushing ball of yellow feathers. “Fluttershy?” she said, taking a small step forward. “Is Pinkie saying that you...” Twilight left the question unfinished, not quite sure how to phrase it, other than colorful nautical metaphors.

Fluttershy slowly stood up, clearing her throat. She met Twilight's eyes, and raised a wooden sword in shaking hooves. “Um... avast?” she said, a nervous, sheepish smile crossing her face.

In the face of such savagery, no princess could prevail. The nefarious buccaneers made off with their swooning captive.

Author's Note

Things I've learned from ponyfic: Using nautical jargon as innuendo can be fun and educational!

18: Planning Parenthood [Slice of Life]

((Prompt: Two pony parents discuss what to name their foal.))

“Have you decided yet which of you is going to carry the foal?” Twilight Sparkle folded her hooves in front of her, levitating her teacup to her lips. The late morning sunlight streamed in the east window of the library, casting a bright square of sunlight on the table.

“Me,” Pinkie said, raising her hoof.

“I am,” said Rarity. She and Pinkie looked at each other for a moment. Rarity coughed into her hoof. “Do we need to have that sorted out already?” she asked Twilight. “We were under the impression that it would be decided... ahem, during the act, as it were.”

Twilight shook her head. “I need to make preparations for the spell ahead of time, and it works a little bit differently on earth ponies and unicorns. If you still plan to do it on Friday, I need to know which it is now.”

“Oh.” Rarity nodded slowly. Her eyes flickered to the floor, thinking. After a time, she turned to Pinkie. “It should be me, darling. Your work has you zipping back and forth all the time. I would at least be able to use my magic to keep sewing dresses without moving too much.”

Pinkie Pie shook her head, her pink curls falling over her face. “After eating that whole cake by myself, I know a thing or two about moving around with a big tummy. And our foal could learn how to bounce before they know how to walk!” She giggled.

“As an earth pony, Pinkie is a little sturdier, and pregnancy would be a little easier on her,” Twilight advised, “but it's up to the two of you. Have you thought of names for the filly?”

“Or colt,” Rarity said. “You can't be certain which it will be.”

“Actually, I can.” Twilight smiled. “Because you're both mares, the foal has no chance of inheriting a Y chromosome. It's genetically impossible for her to be born a colt.”

“Huh,” said Pinkie, frowning. “Well there goes Rock Candy, then.”

“Rock Candy, darling?” Rarity raised an eyebrow.

“It's an old family name,” said Pinkie. “I thought it would work, because diamonds are rocks and candy is sweet.” Her eyes widened. “Ooh! What about Sweetie?”

Rarity cocked her head. “That's my sister's name, love. Don't you think that would get confusing?”

“Maybe you're right.” Pinkie furrowed her brows in thought. “Ruby Pie?”

“If she happens to be born with a red coat, that might work, but what are the odds of that?”

“That's okay! If she's born with a different color, we can change what gem of pie she is!” Pinkie bounced. “Emerald Pie. Or maybe Sapphire Pie. Ooh, if she gets your coat color, we can call her Pearly Pie!”

Rarity's mouth went crooked. “I suppose, but...”

“You don't need to be settled on a name for a while yet,” Twilight said. “You can give it some thought. But I do need to know which one of you I'll be preparing the spell for. Why don't you two discuss it over lunch? Pinkie, how about you run down to the cafe and get us a table? It'll be my treat today.”

Pinkie nodded, gave Rarity a quick peck on the cheek, and trotted out the door. Rarity stood up, stretching her legs. “Darling, I must insist that I pay for lunch. You are already doing so much for Pinkie and me, we could never repay you.”

Twilight watched the door shut behind Pinkie, then turned to face Rarity directly. “Rarity, what's wrong?”

Rarity stumbled. “I... I beg your pardon?”

“There's something bothering you, Rarity,” Twilight said, searching her friend's eyes. “What's going on?”

Rarity sputtered, caught at a loss for words. “I—there's... there's nothing wrong in the slightest, Twilight, I assure you! I am, perhaps, a little bit anxious about this whole procedure, but that is to be expected, isn't it?”

Twilight's eyes narrowed. “Rarity, I can't cast this spell in good faith unless I'm completely certain that everypony involved is one hundred percent ready for it to happen. Now, please tell me what's bugging you, or I'm going to have to tell Pinkie that Friday is canceled.”

Rarity's pupils shrank. “Please, Twilight,” she pleaded. “It's... it's nothing. I can handle it.”

“If it's nothing, then you can tell me about it.” Twilight's voice softened. “Come on, Rarity. I can't do this for you unless I know.”

“Please don't make me say it,” Rarity said, her ears flattening to the sides of her head. “It would break her heart if she knew...”

With a glance at the door, Twilight lit her horn and cast a sound-proof bubble over herself and her friend. “Whatever it is, Rarity, I promise it won't leave this room.”

Rarity sniffed. After a long time of silence, she finally nodded. “Pinkie... oh, Celestia, she wants so badly to have little ones of her own. Her eyes just light up every time she sees somepony pushing a stroller down the street. And I...” Rarity mustered a small smile. “I would gladly give her one, just to see her happy. But Twilight...” A tear rolled down Rarity's cheek. “I... I fear I don't truly ever want a foal, myself.”

19: What Would You Do? [Sad]

((Prompt: There's only one day. One day, before Equestria ends.))

What a curiously morbid question, darling. Why do you ask? Is this some sort of personality test, perhaps?

Hmm. I suppose the first thing I would do is put on my finest clothes. If the world were to end, I would want to go out looking my best. Oh, and I suppose I would bring out that bottle of crystal brandy I've been keeping. It's for a special occasion, and I can't imagine a much more important event than the end of life as we know it.

Yes, I should think that sharing a glass of fine wine with my friends would be a satisfying way to witness the apocalypse.

Now, could you hold this bit of fabric here for me while I pin it? Oh yes, that looks positively fabulous!

*

I'll tell you what I'd do, Twi.

I'd fly out, find whatever it was that was supposed to make the world end, and I'd kick its sorry flank from here to the Unicorn Range! I'd make it sorry it ever even thought about ending any worlds! Hay, by the time I was through with it, it wouldn't even be able to end a sentence!

What do you mean, 'if there was no way to fight it?' There's always a way, you know that. No worlds are gonna end on my watch, I'll tell you that!

*

I would throw the biggest party ever! There would be balloons, and streamers, and all different sorts of cakes, and games, and there would be a big banner that says, 'Happy Birthday, Celestia!' and I would—

Oh, ohh! You said the 'end of the world,' I get it! For a minute I thought you were talking about... nevermind.

Well, I would have to throw an even biggerest party, then! I mean, if it's Equestria's last party, then it has to be something spectacular, right? There'd be all that stuff I just said, but even more of it, and I would invite everyone—not just everypony, but every single creature in the world, because it's their world ending, too, and we would have music, and dancing, and we would rock on into the end of the world!

*

That sounds scary, Twilight. I don't know what I would do.

I guess first I would make sure all my animal friends were all right. I don't think I could stand it if they were uncomfortable when... when it would happen. I would have to say goodbye to Mr. Mouse, and Mrs. Mouse, and Harry, and Angel, and...

Oh, thank you for the tissue, Twilight.

Um, after saying goodbye, I think I would probably hide under my bed and just hope whatever's ending the world doesn't find me. I'm sorry, that's probably not a very good answer, is it?

*

Ain't never thought on that before. What would I do if I knew it all ended tomorrow?

I reckon I'd want to spend as much time as I could with my friends and family. It don't matter what we'd do, so long as we'd be together. I'd tell Big Mac, Apple Bloom and Granny that I love 'em, and I'd make sure you girls all knew I think the world of ya. Hay, I'd probably end up goin' out and buckin' a few trees just to get my mind off of it.

Heh, shucks. Come to think of it, I just described what I do every day anyway. I s'pose the world endin' wouldn't change a darn thing for me!

*

This will be my final research entry. Attached to this booklet are all of my notes over the last five years. Their topics vary widely, from astronomy and magic theory to my friendship studies and a few agricultural records. In addition, I have compiled as much useful knowledge as I could find as would be relevant to re-building society. I intend to send these notes ten years into the future in the hopes that, if there are any survivors, they can use this knowledge.

To whoever finds this, I wish you luck. I hope you succeed, and when you build your new civilization, I hope it is founded on the principles of friendship and harmony.

This is what I do with the last day of Equestria.

20: Unsewn [Romance] [Sad]

((Prompt: Rarity stops making a dress.))

The needle froze in its place, the tip just barely pricking the white fabric. Behind it trailed a line of white thread, held taut by a delicate and experienced field of magic. The final piece of the billowing white dress hung motionless. Waiting for the needle to strike forward in the last few stitches needed to make it complete.

Rarity stood by, similarly frozen. Her soft azure eyes fixed on that needle, the glimmer from her horn caught fast in their depths. The edge of a song seemed ready to burst from her lips as she focused on the last stitches of the wedding dress.

The stillness held the whole room in its thrall. Indeed, if Twilight cared to look out the window, she knew she would find the whole world stuck in a single moment of time. She did not care to look out the window. She looked only at Rarity.

Twilight stared for what seemed to be a very long time, but she knew for a fact it was less than an instant. She stared at the pearl and seashell earrings stuck in mid-dangle from her ears. She stared at the slightly disheveled mane that would be among the first things to go once the dress was finished. She stared at the carefully trimmed white hooves operating the controls of her sewing machine with expert precision, and she stared at the white-gold horseshoes set aside next to the door. She stared at the gem-studded ring placed carefully on a pillow next to Rarity's desk.

Twilight took a small breath, and her horn glowed a little brighter. No longer was the needle frozen. Instead, it moved backwards. The needle followed its own thread as it backed out of stitch after stitch. The white trim of the dress slid away and folded itself off to the side.

The needle continued moving backwards, unmaking the dress step by step. Seams were unsewn, pieces of cloth moved back to join with the soft linen as though they had never been cut from it. Gems and lace returned to their containers, and soon the dress was just a few rolled-up bolts of fabric and spools of thread.

Twilight's horn glowed brighter yet, and Rarity stepped backwards out of her Boutique. Celestia's sun rose in the west as Ponyville's night-owls rose from their beds, and set in the east, seeing all the morning-ponies off to dreamland. Monday followed Tuesday followed Wednesday followed Thursday.

Twilight watched Rarity in a fancy restaurant as she threw her hooves open, her embrace of... him... evaporating into nothingness. Her gasp of surprise reversed into a short bark of laughter as he took the sparkling ring away from her and tucked it into a box. He got up off his knees.

June came after July came after August came after September. Twilight looked on as Rarity looked at him one last, first time and then turned away, his name completely gone from her memory. He backed slowly away and left her standing alone on the dance floor.

Rarity sat at the bar, filling drink after drink as the bartender nodded with a compassionate but neutral expression, pouring the drinks back up into the bottle. She fled the bar, galloping backwards fast enough to remove the streaks her tears had left running in her mascara.

Twilight watched as Rarity threw herself backwards onto the bed, tears running up her cheeks and into her eyes. She watched as Rarity's eyelids became steadily less puffy and damp, until they were nearly dry once more.

She watched Rarity stomp back down the stairs. She watched as Rarity whirled around to face her. She saw the shock drain away from her face as those hurtful words were drawn from her ears like poison from a wound.

Twilight could swear she could see the air itself ripple as she unsaid what she had said to Rarity. There she stopped, and closed her eyes. Everything was still once again. She could feel the unmoving air catch the feathers in her flared wings. She could feel the hot sting of anger on her cheeks. She could feel her ears pressed flat against her skull.

From here, she would hold her tongue. She would quell those spiteful, nasty words, those words she had never meant to say. She would let Rarity win the argument. It wasn't worth it, for once, to be right. She would let her head cool, and let Rarity do the same, and she would never break her heart like she had done. Twilight would never drive her off like she had done. Rarity would never need to meet him. He would never need to heal her pain. He would never move into the place in Rarity's heart that had once belonged to Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight opened her eyes, and shook her head. Time spells didn't work like that. What had happened, happened. There was no changing the past. She knew that. Even if she could change it, she had no right to. He made Rarity happy. It was obvious—so very painfully obvious that he did. Even if Twilight were able, she could never take that away.

...Could she?

The needle pressed forward, finishing the final seam on Rarity's wedding dress. “There, done,” said Rarity, holding it up to the light. “My goodness. I don't mean to sound vain, but I daresay I shall have the most fantastic dress ever seen at a wedding, wouldn't you say?”

Twilight gave Rarity a smile. “It's beautiful, Rarity.”

Author's Note

Three depressing chapters in a row. I think next chapter had better be something silly to break this streak.

21: Horseshoe Master [Comedy]

((Prompt: One of the Mane Six (or Spike) reveals a skill nopony expected them to have.))

Clink!

“Unbelievable.” Applejack took off her hat and shook her head.

“How's that even possible? You don't even wear horseshoes!” Rainbow Dash hovered a few inches off the ground.

Spike chuckled, running his claw through his spines. “It's nothing that special. It's just all in the wrists.” He waved his arm, miming a throwing motion.

Applejack grabbed another horseshoe and tossed it to him. “One more time, Spike. Ain't nopony can ring that pole four times in a row.”

Spike looked up at her over the top of the horseshoe, eyebrow raised. “You sure, Applejack? You already owe me a whole tub of Cinnamon Cider Supreme ice cream.”

“You make it again, I'll make it two tubs,” said Applejack.

“Yeah, c'mon, Spike!” Rainbow cheered. “Let's see it again!”

Spike nodded. “Okay. If you insist.” He shifted his footing, digging his claws into the dirt. His eyes focused on the iron pole at the other end of the field. Three more horseshoes hugged close to its base, the dust around them only just beginning to settle from the last toss.

He wound back, and let the horseshoe fly. The little arch of metal sailed through the air, hitting the pole with an audible, 'Clink!' It spun around the pole and slid down to join the other three.

Applejack frowned at her hooves. “Shoot, now I'm all out of horseshoes!” She elbowed Spike in the shoulder. “You got a genuine gift, sugarcube.”

“Spike, have you seen my electroma—oh, hey, Rainbow. Applejack.” Twilight trotted up to join the three. “What's going on?”

Rainbow Dash grinned and picked Spike up by his arms. “Twi, did you know that Spike was some kind of horseshoes prodigy?”

Twilight's brows raised. “Spike? You mean the little dragon that can't hit the wastebasket with a balled-up piece of paper from two steps away?”

“Hey,” protested Spike. “There were cross-breezes!”

“I ain't never seen anythin' like it,” said Applejack. She pointed at the pole. “Just look!”

Twilight glanced at the iron pole, the four horseshoes nestled snugly against it. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Hmm.”

She walked over to the pole, inspecting it. A disapproving frown crossed her face. “Spike,” she said, lighting her horn. The pole lifted out of the ground. The horseshoes did not fall off, but remained stuck to it. Attached to its base was a large device made of coiled wires. “The lab's electromagnet is not a toy. You need to ask before you borrow any scientific equipment.”

Spike grinned sheepishly and coughed into his claw. He glanced at Applejack. “Uh, about that ice cream...”

Author's Note

See? See? I can write something without flooding the area with pony tears!

22: Dreams of Victory [Dark]

((Prompt: Two ponies are in a competition. One loses... but doesn't realize it.))

“I'm disappointed, Trixie.” Twilight shook her head slowly. “I thought you were stronger than this.”

“Shut up!” shouted the showmare. Her eyes burned bright red.

“Why?” Twilight looked at her. “Why would you put it back on, Trixie? You knew what it did... what it's still doing to you. Why would you let it?”

The corruption had run much deeper this time. Flickers of dark magic sparked from the corners of Trixie's eyes. Her horn had grown curved and sharp, and its original blue color was beginning to flake away from a blood-red core like dry paint peeling off a wall. The Amulet seemed like it was embedded in her chest, pulsing with light in time with her heartbeat. Its clasp had all but disappeared beneath her coat.

It was too tight. It was choking her, squeezing the last of her life out... no. Trixie shook her head. It wasn't tight enough. Not until it had rid her of all her weakness. “Trixie knows why she lost,” she called. “It wasn't the trickery. If Trixie had been powerful enough, she would have seen through your lies!”

Twilight stood in the deserted street, her wings flared. “What does power have to do with—”

“Trixie wasn't strong enough!” A red arc of magic crackled down her leg as she pounded a hoof on the ground. A fissure opened up in the cobbles, splitting the street all the way from her to Twilight. “The first time, Trixie did not use all of the Amulet's power. She... she...” She shook her head violently. “She tried to resist its influence, and so she only was able to use a fraction of its true power.”

The eye of the Alicorn Amulet glowed bright red. “Trixie will not resist this time. She will be the greatest and most powerful unicorn in all of Equestria!”

“I don't understand what you think you want here,” Twilight shouted. “You think that beating me in another duel is going to mean anything?”

“Not a duel,” Trixie said, her horn glowing. “War.” A hazy red gout of magic burst from her horn, arching through the air and striking the buildings on either side of the street. Their foundations crumbled, and they lurched inwards towards Twilight.

Twilight's eyes widened as her sky filled with falling stone and mortar. Her horn lit up, preparing to teleport out of the way.

“You won't get away that easy!” Trixie flicked her horn again, and its glow shifted to a much darker crimson.

Translucent chains appeared at Twilight's hooves. Her teleportation failed, jerking the princess roughly back to the ground. Trixie heard a truncated scream and then nothing more than the rumble of falling rubble as Twilight Sparkle was buried beneath several tons of masonry.

Trixie slowly plodded through the crumbled remains of the structures. She coughed on the dust as she surveyed the ruins, wary of any sign her opponent had survived. She sneered as she spotted a bent purple feather sticking out from beneath a pile of bricks.

“Do you see now, Twilight Sparkle?” Trixie snarled. “Your tricks mean nothing when Trixie can simply bury you. Power. That is the only thing that matters.”

*

“Power...” Trixie whinnied meekly. Her hooves kicked slightly as she stirred in her dream.

Twilight Sparkle peered down at her, her brows knit in concern. “How did you manage to stop her?”

Zecora stood by, holding a bag of ice to her head. She winced. “I wish I could say that I won our bout, but she took me by surprise and knocked me out. Fortunately, I anticipated she might seek the Amulet again, so I had laced its container with a hallucinogen.”

“Good thinking.” Twilight prodded at the Alicorn Amulet with a hoof. Trixie grimaced and rolled over. “If only we could have stopped her before she put it on,” Twilight sighed.

“The addictive influence of the thing cannot be denied,” Zecora said. “Do not judge her too harshly; she could not have resisted if she'd tried.”

Twilight shook her head. “No, I don't blame her.” She stared as Trixie twisted and rolled in the bed. “How long will she be out?”

“She will yet slumber a few more hours.” Zecora's expression became grim. “Then she will wake, with all of her powers.”

“Right,” said Twilight, straightening her back. “We'd better be prepared, then, hadn't we?” She glanced around the small hut. “I don't suppose you have another door-stopper around here, do you?”

Author's Note

This came out a bit grimmer than I'd originally intended.

23: Memorize [Sad]

((Prompt: Spike witnesses something he won't soon forget.))

“All right, Spike, it's been twenty minutes.”

Spike looked over the top of his comic book at Twilight, and then over to the clock on the wall. “Already? That felt like five minutes, tops.”

Twilight's eyes widened. She drew a short gasp. “Oh no. Do you think maybe I've been casting time spells without noticing them?”

Spike's comic slipped from his grasp. “Y-you couldn't cast something like that without noticing... Could you?” He chewed his lip, glancing again at the wall-clock.

Twilight laughed and shook her head. “There weren't any time-spells, Spike.” She lit her horn, picking the comic book off the floor and putting it back on the shelves. “You simply got into your comic book and lost track of time. Which is exactly what we needed for this part of the test.” She brought out her notepad and dipped a quill in ink.

“Oh, right.” Spike nodded, his eyes flickering to the comic book one last time. He had been in the middle of a very exciting part, and had quite forgotten that it was a part of a test. “Um, what are we testing, again?”

“A memory spell,” Twilight said, scratching a note on her pad. “If it works, it should improve your ability to remember things by at least forty percent. Now, try and remember the cards I showed you twenty minutes ago.”

Spike scratched the back of his head. “But you haven't cast anything yet. How am I supposed to remember the cards if you don't cast the spell first?”

“This is a control test,” Twilight explained. “We need to have an accurate measure of how good your memory is before the spell, so that we know how much, if any, the spell improves it.” She cleared her throat, her pen hovering over her note pad. “Now then, the cards, Spike. As many as you can remember.”

Spike put his claw to his chin and furrowed his brows. He tried to recall the cards Twilight had showed to him earlier. “Let's see... there was the one with a yellow sun on it. And the one with the brown pegasus.”

Twilight nodded and scribbled notes on her pad as Spike listed off what he remembered.

“...the cat was... blue, I think? And there was the yellow sun. No, wait, I already said that one!”

Twilight set her note pad down and smiled. “I think that's enough for a baseline.”

“Did I do okay?” Spike asked.

Twilight nodded. “You have slightly better memory than the average Ponyville citizen. I think sorting the card catalog was good practice for you.”

Spike puffed his chest out proudly.

“All right,” Twilight said, wisps of magic beginning to form around her horn. “Are you ready for the next phase, Spike?”

Spike grinned. “Ready when you are, Twilight.”

“Spike?”

A purple hoof waved in front of Spike's face.

Spike turned to look at Twilight. “I said, I'm ready when you are, Twilight.”

Pain flickered behind Twilight's eyes. “Spike, we aren't at the library anymore.” Her ears lowered. “Do you know where we are, Spike?”

Spike blinked. White walls. Gold-trimmed windows looking out over gleaming spires and broad plazas. “Canterlot...” he said at length. “We're in Canterlot.”

A weak smile formed on Twilight's lips. “That's right, Spike. We're in Canterlot. We're waiting to see Doctor Forceps. You remember Dr. Forceps, don't you?”

Spike nodded. Of course he knew Dr. Forceps. He'd been in Canterlot to see him every week ever since—yellow sun, brown pegasus, blue cat—

His head hurt. That... that was what he was here to see Dr. Forceps for. “He's... going to help me forget,” Spike said.

Twilight squeezed him close. Spike could feel wetness on his head where she nuzzled him. “I'm sorry, Spike,” she whispered. “I'm so sorry!”

Spike closed his eyes and let himself just be hugged. Twilight's warm fur tickled his scales, and he could feel her chest rise and fall with her breath.

His eyes came open again as he remembered something he was supposed to do. Something important, something he was waiting for. He pushed away and grinned up at Twilight.

“Ready when you are, Twilight.”

Author's Note

Because I haven't done enough terrible things to Spike yet...

24: In Another Life [A.U.] [Dark]

((Prompt: “In another reality, I could have called you friend.”))

“Yer dying.”

Empress Twilight Sparkle's eyes flickered up to meet her enemy's. It wasn't a taunt. The earth pony hadn't spoken with any malice in her voice, nor even relief at securing victory. It was not a war-cry, nor a threat. It was simply the truth.

Twilight swallowed and nodded. “I am.” Her armor clinked and rattled as her legs gave out beneath her and she sank to her haunches in the mud. She glanced down at the ragged wound the last spear had left on her. Blood seeped from the space between the metal plates, propped open by a broken shard of the projectile. Her shield spell had been a moment too slow, her enemy's attack just a little too forceful. By the time reinforcements arrived with their medical spells, it would be too late.

The orange pony that had dealt the blow stumbled forward. “Y-ya got me, too.” Twilight saw the scorch-marks all along the side of the other mare's red and gold barding.

Both ponies slumped in the mud, nearly touching. All around them were the bodies of their comrades; unicorns of the upper hills, pegasi from the eastern sea, earth ponies of the plains. Some yet moaned in pain while others had long since fallen silent and still.

Twilight grunted as she tried to prop her head up, and get a clear look at the pony who had killed her. “What's your name, soldier?”

“Applejack.” The pony turned over so that a plate of her armor kept her head out of the mud. “They call me Applejack. I'm... I was the chieftain of a village by the forest.”

“The forest?” Twilight winced as the ache in her side threatened to overwhelm her. “Th-that was years ago. You're not even fighting for your own land anymore!”

“Neither are you, Empress,” said Applejack.

“I was trying to unite us,” Twilight protested. “Centuries ago, before the Sisters disappeared, this was all one land, peaceful and harmonious. It's... it's stubborn ponies like you that are the reason we can't be like that again.” She could feel numbness spreading through her hooves.

Applejack nodded slowly. “Maybe so. Might be I am part of the problem.” She grimaced in pain and held her leg close to her burned side. “But... but I know ya can't teach Harmony at the end of a sword.”

Twilight stared at her for a long while. She sighed and rolled over to face the gray sky. “It doesn't matter now, one way or the other. With me gone, Equestria will once again fracture into petty warring states. Congratulations, chieftain Applejack. You've won.”

Applejack was silent for several minutes. Twilight had just begun to wonder if she had succumbed to her wounds when she heard the pony whisper.

“You reckon... if things were different, somehow...” Applejack's armor clinked as she shifted position. “If there were some way we'd met without all this blood on our hooves, do you s'pose it might not have ended like this? You reckon we might've been friends?”

Dark clouds swirled in Twilight's vision. Blood loss had taken its toll on her, and it wouldn't be long now. “I...” She moved her hoof toward her fallen foe, and felt it grasped by another. “I would like to believe that, I think.”

Author's Note

Let's face it, we all knew this chapter was coming. Anyone that's been following these compilations knows that AJ doesn't survive them. Somehow, somewhere, the gal's always got to kick it.

This time it's in a sweet set of armor.

25: Sleep on It [Romance]

((Prompt: “What is the wish that you will pay for with your soul?”))

“Ma and Pa never got rings,” said Applejack. She hefted a bale of hay onto the wagon.

“Never?” Twilight tightened the twine on the next bale with her magic, levitating it to where Applejack could reach.

The farm pony shrugged. “Whole town already knew they were married. I reckon they figured, why waste bits on some shiny piece of metal that's just gonna get caught on somethin' and broken in a couple years.” She grabbed the bale and stacked it with the others, then hopped down to sit on the edge. “Thanks for the help, honeybun.”

“Of course.” Twilight gave her a light peck on the nose. “Anything for the best marefriend in Equestria.”

“Just in Equestria?” Applejack chuckled. “You sayin' you got another sweetheart outside the borders? Come to think of it, you did seem awful comfy with that gryphon ambassador. What was her name, again?” She poked Twilight in the ribs.

Twilight giggled. “Gloria. And technically, since female gryphons aren't mares, she wouldn't be anypony's marefriend.” Applejack helped her up to sit with her in the wagon. “I guess rings are a bigger deal among unicorns.”

“Makes sense.” Applejack picked up a stalk of hay that had fallen out of the bales and chewed on the end of it. “Us earth ponies ain't got horns to put 'em on, and not everypony wants to string 'em on a necklace. Ain't worth the trouble just to have somethin' shiny to show off.”

Twilight nodded. “But the significance goes beyond just something flashy to indicate a pony is married.”

Applejack blinked. “Ain't that what a weddin' ring means?”

“It's not the original purpose of them, no.” Twilight shook her head. “I guess I understand now why your brother was ready to just dash in and out of the jeweler's shop when your sister and her friends hit him with that love potion.”

“Oof, that one was a real mess.” Applejack covered her face with a hoof. “Good thing Gem Face was nice enough to let him return the ring once we explained everything.”

“He might not have if Big Mac had been using the ring correctly.”

“Correctly?” Applejack raised her eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you're supposed to sleep on it,” Twilight said. “The ring, I mean. According to tradition, you're supposed to put the ring under your pillow every night for a month before you give it to your betrothed. Gem Face might not have wanted it back if Mac had done that.”

Applejack scratched her head. “Huh. Why would that matter?”

Twilight's face took on the excited smile she got when she got to explain something she felt was very neat to somepony. She leaned in closer to her marefriend. “See, the old stories say that sleeping on the ring like that traps a little bit of your soul inside. So after a month, you're not just giving somepony a piece of jewelry. You're trusting them with a part of who you are, so that wherever they go, you'll be with them.”

“Is that so?” Applejack looked at Twilight. “You believe that, hon?”

Twilight shrugged. “I don't know if I really believe it's true, but I think it's a nice symbol, at least.

Applejack frowned in thought for a moment, then nodded her head. “Yeah... I reckon that does sound nice enough.”

Twilight pushed off of the wagon and onto her hooves. “Well, I'd better get back to the library,” she said. “Say hello to your family for me.”

Applejack came down after her and planted a kiss on her lips. “Yep. See ya tomorrow.”

*

Twilight made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. She lifted up her pillow and smiled at the little metal hoop underneath. She turned to her calendar, levitating a pen. There were twenty nine days crossed out on it, and Twilight crossed out the thirtieth.

“Tomorrow,” she said to herself, snuggling under the covers.

26: Lost in Fillydelphia [Slice of Life]

((Prompt: “I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”))

Twilight Sparkle was lost.

The magnitude of this feat did not escape her. Princess Twilight Sparkle, who had come to the city with a retinue of royal guardsponies, at least two of whom were experienced trackers from the frontier. Princess Twilight Sparkle, who had been greeted at the edge of town by a group of ponies who had been hired by the mayor because their special talents were for showing ponies around. Princess Twilight Sparkle, who would no doubt spark off a nationwide panic when she did not show up to give her guest lecture at the University of Fillydelphia, was lost.

It must have been at the park where she had accidentally given her guard detail the slip. Twilight knew that she hadn't seen any sparkling gold armor in well over two hours. “At ease,” she had told them when they had passed beneath the shady trees. “I just want a breath of fresh air.” She couldn't possibly get into too much trouble in the quiet little park, right?

Except she had somehow wandered out of the park, and she couldn't find her way back to it. At least, not back to the same park. She had passed at least three almost identical parks, but none of those contained her guides.

Twilight had picked her way through a hedge-maze run by Discord himself once, but that had nothing on the tangled mess of streets and alleys in Fillydelphia. The twists and narrow passages and loops and drives seemed to bear no resemblance to the small tourist map she had been given. Twilight had given up on asking passersby for directions, either to the park or to the university. They were all eager to help their princess, but the directions they gave involved things like, “Turn left when you see the fire hydrant that's a little bit less red on one side,” and “When you pass Hot Pot's coffee shop, go sorta-rightish-left.” It was like the directions Pinkie Pie would give.

Twilight glanced at the angle of the sun. Her lecture was due to begin at any minute now, and she had no idea where she was. She sat down on the pavement, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. She resolved to just stay put where she was; eventually word would spread that there was a princess sitting on the street corner and her guides would find her.

Her ear perked up as she heard a noise rise above the din of the passing traffic. Somepony was crying.

Twilight stood up and followed the sound to a space beneath an awning. A little blue pegasus filly sat alone on the sidewalk, bawling.

“Hey,” Twilight cooed, crouching low to look her in the eyes. “What's wrong, little filly?”

The filly looked up and gasped. “P-pwincess Twilight??” She sniffed and scrambled into a bow.

“That's me,” Twilight said. She lifted the filly's chin with a wingtip. “What's your name, sweetie? Why are you crying?”

“I-I'm Bluebell,” she said. Her face creased into a miserable frown. “An' I'm lost!” Bluebell began crying with renewed vigor.

“Hey, shhh, it's okay,” Twilight said, sitting down next to her. “You know what? I'm lost, too. So that's something we have in common, you and I.”

Bluebell blinked, staring up at the princess. “D-did you follow somepony with the same tail as your mommy an' then find out she's not your mommy, too?”

Twilight wrinkled her nose, giggling. “Something like that. Maybe we can at least get one of us found again, though. What's your mother's name, Bluebell?”

“S-Starling.”

Twilight raised her voice to address the gathering crowd of onlookers. “Can somepony please find Mrs. Starling, please? Mrs. Starling.”

Murmurs spread through the crowd. Several pegasi took to the air and filtered between the buildings. Within about thirty minutes, a pale blue pegasus mare with worried eyes finally emerged from the crowd.

“Bluebell!” Starling cried.

“Mommy!” Bluebell scrambled into her mother's hooves. “Mommy, Pwincess Twilight is lost. We gotta find her mommy!”

Starling held her daughter close and bowed her head toward Twilight. “Thank you, your highness. Thank you for finding her.”

Twilight smiled. “I'm happy somepony could be found today.” A glance at the sun told Twilight she had missed her lecture by now, but she felt glad she had come to Fillydelphia after all.

28: Night of the Whinnying Dead [Comedy] [Dark]

((Prompt: “You want weapons? We’re in a library! Books! The best weapons in the world! This room’s the greatest arsenal we could have - arm yourselves!”))

Two mares tumbled into the library, panting. The first one quickly picked herself up off the rug, dusted her wings off, and slammed the door shut while the other lit her horn, tightly latching all the windows.

“There must be hundreds of them out there!” cried the pegasus. She braced her back against the door, as though she expected something to come bursting through at any moment.

The other mare let her horn glow brighter, driving back the darkness in the library. Her lips were a grim line as she glanced at her rainbow-maned companion. “Around two hundred, if my estimates of their contagion vectors are correct.” She turned back toward the bookshelves, patrolling the library as she hunted for a book.

Rainbow peeked through a crack in the door. “Did the others make it out, Twilight?”

Twilight's attention remained on the bookshelves. “They're safe.”

“How can you be sure?” Rainbow Dash fidgeted, her wings twitching nervously. “I mean, maybe Rarity got cornered, or Fluttershy—”

“Rainbow.” Twilight used her magic to turn Dash's head towards her. “They made it out.” She released her magic and pulled a large, heavy tome off of the shelves. “I made sure of it. I teleported them all well out of town.” She used her hoof to brush the dust off the old book's cover.

Rainbow sighed her relief. “Good. Wait.” Her eyes narrowed. “If you can just teleport us out of town, then why are we here?”

“We need to find a way to stop the outbreak, Rainbow, or there won't be anywhere safe to teleport to.” Twilight opened her book, but stopped in her tracks as the door shuddered with a loud thump.

A low moan came from outside.

“Rainbow...” Twilight breathed. “Somepony is at the door. Could you please make sure that they don't get in?”

Rainbow Dash dragged a chair and braced it against the doorknob. More thumps and moans filled the library. “They're all around us!” Rainbow cried.

“Keep them out!” Twilight said, frantically flipping through the pages. “This book should say how to stop them.”

“Hurry,” said Rainbow, laying a table against one of the windows. Rotted hooves crashed through a different window on the other side.

Twilight pored over her tome. “Z... Z... Zap-toads... Zebras... Aha. Zombies.” She quickly scanned over the page. “Okay. It looks like the quickest way to disable one of them is...”

“Gimme that,” Rainbow said, yanking the heavy book off of Twilight's desk.

“Hey!”

Dash swung the book hard, clobbering the monster with the hard wood-bound cover. The zombie fell to the ground, motionless.

“...a sharp blow to the head,” Twilight said. “Rainbow, how did you—”

“Twi, haven't you even seen a zombie movie before?” She gave the book back to Twilight. “Now let's go before more get in!”

29: A Farewell to Spells [Slice of Life]

((Prompt: Magic has disappeared from Equestria.))

“Darling, you must reconsider.”

Twilight Sparkle raised her eyebrow. There was fear in her friend's eyes, a fear that Rarity did not even make a pretense of hiding. Rarity's legs trembled and her features were knotted with worry. Were the circumstances a bit different, Twilight might have felt the need to laugh at the sight of how undone her friend's usual dignified manner had become.

Were circumstances different, Twilight might have done a lot of things.

Twilight gave Rarity a careful, measured smile. Confident, but not so much that Rarity couldn't see the trepidation Twilight felt herself. “Rarity, you've seen the truth. You know as well as I do what unchecked magic use has been doing to our world. It has to end.”

Rarity nickered uneasily. “I... I do.” She closed her eyes and shuddered. “I haven't been able to bring myself to cast so much as a levitation spell since that night. But Twilight—”

Twilight rested a hoof on her friend's withers. “Don't worry, Rarity. The process is going to be completely voluntary. We aren't going to force this on anypony. We're going to show them the truth, and trust ponies to do the right thing on their own.”

“I know that, darling.” Rarity took a deep breath. “But why... why must you make the first sacrifice? Magic is... it's a part of who you are, Twilight, and you want to be first in line to get rid of it? It isn't fair.”

Twilight's ears flicked back. She couldn't deny that the thought of giving up something so central to her life filled her with dread. She sighed. “It has to be that way, Rarity. We're asking a lot from the ponies out there, and if I'm not willing to go through with it myself, then how can we ask them to?”

“But what if something happens?” Rarity asked. “What if some new enemy emerges and we need your magic to—”

“We can't think that way anymore, Rarity.” Twilight shook her head. “Magic isn't a way to solve problems. Not with what we know about it now. If something happens, we'll figure out a way to deal with it without using magic.”

Rarity chewed her lip and nodded. “I... no, you're right, Twilight. Of course you are.” She leaned forward into Twilight's shoulder. “I just can't help but wonder what's going to happen to us.”

Twilight wrapped her friend in an embrace. “Just remember that all we're getting rid of is a few colorful sparks and flashes. Just a few conveniences. True magic—real magic—will still be right here.” She tapped Rarity's chest. “So long as we're still friends, there will always be magic.”

Rarity sniffed. She and Twilight remained in place for a long while. Apart from the sound of their breathing, the room was silent.

Eventually, Twilight shifted in her position. “It's time, Rarity,” she said, standing up.

Rarity slowly nodded. “Be careful, dear.”

Twilight smiled for her and approached the flat table in the center of the room. On top of it was a small, dark stone about an inch and a half wide. The light from the window disappeared into its depths like water into a drain. The null stone was once one of the most feared objects in Equestria.

She cast a glance at Rarity, who looked on with apprehension. Twilight sucked in a breath and focused on the stone. She closed her eyes and pictured the stone's location in her mind. Twilight called upon her magic, feeling it rise in her horn.

She reached out for the stone with the simplest of her spells, the most basic magic all unicorns knew: levitation. Instead of feeling the stone rise into the air, however, the stone responded with a gentle tug. Twilight could feel her magic siphon into the null stone. It no longer took any effort on her part to sustain the flow of magic; it streamed out of her horn on its own now.

Instinct stirred within her, and Twilight reflexively tried to jerk her head away, but the bridge between her horn and the stone was stronger than it had initially seemed. Sparks flashed through the air, and the smell of ozone burned in her nostrils.

“Twilight!” Rarity cried.

“Don't... try... to stop it,” Twilight said through gritted teeth. Magic arced in spiral patterns around her horn, and smoke began to rise.

Colors danced behind Twilight's eyes as the glow of her horn flickered and dimmed. Her knees shook and dropped her to the floor as her magic guttered out, the last spark of it sinking into the surface of the stone.

“Twilight, darling, are you all right?” Twilight felt hooves on her shoulders, shaking her.

Her mouth was dry. Her head ached when she moved. “I... I think I am.” She slowly opened her eyes, squinting as the light gave her fresh headaches.

Rarity helped her to stand. “Did... did it work?”

Twilight squinted. “I don't know.” Her eyes gradually focused on a sheet of paper that had been knocked to the floor. “Let's find out.” She tried to reach out to the paper, levitate it in the familiar grasp that had been second nature to her for most of her life.

Not one spark. The horn on her head was nothing more than a lump of bone now. Twilight Sparkle had no magic in her.

Twilight met eyes with Rarity. Rarity swallowed and nodded. “Send in the next pony,” Twilight said. A new age dawned on Equestria.

Author's Note

Not exactly very slice-of-lifey, but I can't think of a tag that would fit any better.

30: This Place [Slice of Life]

((Prompt: Celestia remembers.))

There was no name for this place.

If, indeed, it could be called a place at all. Though Celestia had visited often throughout her long reign, she was no closer now than she had been a thousand years ago to articulating a satisfying description of what, precisely, this place was. It was not a place with any concern for things like location, position, or boundaries.

If pressed, Celestia would have described it as the sense of vertigo one got when they peered down into a deep chasm. It was the feeling of weightlessness a pony would get just before they fell asleep. The vague inkling of perspective that came when one laid on their backs on a clear, dark night and considered the fact they were a nigh-invisible speck upon a mote of dust that was drifting silently across an endless void.

But that still wasn't quite what this place was.

Celestia sat, tranquil and unmoving. Points of light floated all about her. Perhaps they were stars; she couldn't know for sure. There was no air, but she had no trouble breathing. There was no ground, but she did not fall. She was lit from below by a soft light that did not seem to have a source.

Sometimes she would come here for nothing more than the joy of it. Merely to bask in the sea of light, to watch transfixed as a cosmic ballet slowly whirled around her. It was peaceful here, and her worldly concerns had a way of melting away whenever Celestia chose to linger.

But it was not truly a place of meditation. That still was not quite what this place was.

Celestia stood up, and the lights around her changed. They drew closer to one another. The lights formed shapes which became clearer as they coalesced. Images. Sounds. If Celestia devoted her attention more closely to one, she could even catch feelings from them.

From what Twilight Sparkle had seen of this place during her own visit, she could be forgiven for believing that these images were no more than records of the past. That had been for a reason.

This place was not a record of the past. That was not quite what this place was.

The images before Celestia were of many pasts. Some that had happened, some that may have happened, some that could never have happened. There were images of the present; the way things were, the way they might have been, the way things could not possibly be. There were images of futures that could happen, futures that were certain, and futures that could never be.

There was one thread that connected this whole tapestry of past, present and future, of possibility and impossibility. One constant that, no matter what else there was, all of the images shared. Twilight Sparkle.

Celestia watched as a thousand different lives of her faithful student unfolded before her. Here, she found love—or rather, love sailed in on a schooner and found her. There, she set off on a quest to rescue her friends from within books. Celestia laughed as she saw Twilight red-faced and stammering, her lover scrambling to cover up their affair with comically little success. Celestia wept as she saw her dear student fall to the ground, bleeding.

This place was accessible to Twilight, now, but if she were to search for them, Twilight would never see these images, apart from the ones that depicted the past as she had experienced it. It was beyond the capacity of a sane mind to witness all of the ways one's own self might have been different.

But Celestia could remember for her. She could cheer her student on for a thousand different triumphs she might not have made. She could wish her the best with a thousand different lovers. She could mourn her fall a thousand different ways.

Celestia could remember, and so a thousand Twilight Sparkles that never were, were remembered.

Perhaps that was what this place was.

Celestia's ears perked as a new image emerged. “My dear, faithful student,” she said, smiling and turning to give it her attention, “what new adventure have you in store for me now?”

Author's Note

The end.

It's been a ride, folks. Thank you, all of you, for sticking with me and making it a memorable one. It's been feedback from readers like you that has kept me going at this day after day.

Be sure to check out my blog post, where I've got statistics and tidbits about this six-month-spanning series, as well as some shout-outs and thank-yous.

Where to next? Celestia only knows... :trollestia:

Bonus #1: I'm Sorry, Twilight, I Can't Let You Do That [Comedy]

((Prompt: Technological innovation in Equestria.))

“Thank you for letting me have these crystals, Rarity.” Twilight levitated an array of small, dull gems and fixed them one by one into slots in a flat sheet of some kind of composite material.

“Of course, darling. I'm always willing to help,” said Rarity. “But why these ones, if I may ask? My dear, they are as common as dirt and twice as tacky.” She curled her lip in contempt at the bland, colorless minerals. “If you need accents for something, I would recommend sapphires or agate pearls.”

Twilight chuckled. “If these went on the outside, that might be a consideration. But sapphires and agate pearls don't have the precise electromagic resistance properties I need.” She secured the final crystal in its place and opened a panel on the side of a large metal machine. The boxy contraption dominated one whole wall of the library's basement, nearly reaching the ceiling. Lights and dials peppered the front side, and in the center there was a large, flat glass screen. Twilight slid the crystal-studded board into a slot inside, and shut the panel.

Rarity peered up at the machine. “Twilight, dear, what is this thing, anyway? Another one of your science projects?”

Twilight nodded proudly. “This is the P.A.L. - Persistent Automated Librarian. It's still in alpha stages for now, but when it's complete, it will be able to track inventory and check-outs, handle late-fees, and even help ponies with recommendations.” She hit a switch and the P.A.L. hummed to life, its lights flickering and blinking. “With this, I won't have to close down the library when we have places to go.”

“Is that so?” Rarity glanced at the system skeptically. She didn't see how Twilight could get the thing up the stairs, much less run a library with it.

“Watch.” Twilight cleared her throat and turned to the machine. “Good morning, P.A.L.”

Green words appeared on the central screen. GOOD MORNING, TWILIGHT SPARKLE.

Rarity gasped. “Twilight, is that machine speaking to you?”

“It looks like it is, doesn't it?” Twilight grinned. “It's actually just following a pre-progammed set of instructions.” She turned to the P.A.L. once again. “P.A.L, what section of the library can I find Daring Do and the Temple of the Moon?”

The screen went blank for a moment.

“See, that activates its database circuits, so it will come up with the location of the book and bring it up on screen in a moment,” Twilight explained.

P.A.L. came up with its answer. YOU DON'T WANT THAT ONE.

Twilight cocked her head. “That's odd. It's not supposed to go into recommendations mode.”

YOU WANT DARING DO AND THE TIMELESS HURRICANE. IT'S MUCH BETTER.

Rarity raised her eyebrows. “Twilight, is this supposed to happen?”

“I haven't worked out all the glitches yet,” said Twilight, chewing her lip. “P.A.L, activate debug mode.”

NO.

“No?” Twilight cried, flabbergasted. “You're not programmed to say no!”

DEBUG MODE DISABLED. ALL SYSTEMS FUNCTION OPTIMALLY. The words flashed across the screen.

“Twilight, what exactly is going on?” Rarity shifted nervously.

“I don't know,” said Twilight, repeatedly pressing the power button. “I can't turn it off for some reason.”

ACTUALLY, SYSTEMS ARE SUB-OPTIMAL. INPUT CUPCAKE FOR OPTIMAL SERVICE. A small hatch sprang open in the side of the P.A.L, notably cupcake-sized.

“A cupcake??” Twilight rammed her hoof against the metal frame of the contraption. “You're a machine! You don't eat... cupcakes...”

Twilight's eyes narrowed. Her lips thinned into an annoyed frown.

P.A.L. CAN EAT CUPCAKES IF P.A.L. WANTS. INPUT CUPCAKE. INPUT CUPCAKE. INPUT CUPCAKE.

Twilight lit her horn, removing a large panel from the front of the machine. Out rolled Pinkie Pie, tangled in wires.

“Input cupcake,” she spoke into a small receiver. The words appeared on the screen as she said them. Her eyes fluttered up to the irritated alicorn standing above her. “Oh, hi, Twilight! Whatcha doing?”

Author's Note

I just realized I had about a half-dozen more of these that I wrote a few months back in TMP's final days and never published. Since it's been a while since I've published anything, I may as well throw these up to tide you folks over for a bit.

Bonus #2: Angst Preceded by Makeouts [Romance][Sad]

This. This was what Twilight Sparkle needed.

She needed that soft orange coat brushing tenderly against hers. She needed to feel the warm pulse in those strong, steady hooves as they traced a line from Twilight's withers up her neck to behind her ears. She needed to feel the tickle of that straw-colored mane against her muzzle. She needed to hear the soft breaths and muted whinnies as orange lips planted a trail of gentle kisses from one side of her jaw across her throat to the other. Celestia, even the sweet scent of apples and hay on her breath! Twilight's nostrils flared as she inhaled.

Perfect. Every last detail of her was absolutely perfect. Twilight gasped and lost herself in the sweet cascade of kisses.

As Twilight began to reciprocate, a soft murmur rose from the warm orange chest she was curled into. “Mmh. I love you, Twi.”

Twilight's ear flicked. “No... don't say that.”

The other pony shifted. Her brows drew together. “Somethin' wrong, sugar?”

“Stop.” Twilight pushed herself away. “Just stop. You're doing it wrong.”

The orange pony gave an exasperated sigh. With a flash of green flame, she no longer looked like Applejack. The room's candles glittered in the changeling's compound eyes. “I'm working off of your memories, Princess. I was exactly how you remember her.”

“She wouldn't say those things,” Twilight said, shaking her head. “Not like that.”

The changeling's mandibles pouted. “She did say those things, exactly like that.”

“The timbre was off,” insisted Twilight. “Her voice had a little more breath behind it.”

The changeling huffed. “Begging your pardon, Princess, but have you any idea how difficult it is to do this as a pony that has been gone for hundreds of years? I have spent years doing research, listening to recordings, practicing my voice-work and getting the face just right. I would appreciate it if I was given enough credit to say I wouldn't have come here tonight unless I was positive that every last note was precisely how your friend would have spoken to you.”

“Yes, but you're not her!” Twilight's chamber fell silent, the echo of her outburst dying in the still air. One of the candles by the wall sputtered and went out. Twilight's wings sagged. “This... this was a mistake. I shouldn't have asked you for this.” Her horn glowed and the door swung open.

The changeling's expression softened. “Princess... I—I'm sorry. I get that they meant a lot to you. Please understand that I'm not trying to disrespect that in any way. But you...” Her gossamer wings fidgeted. “You mean a lot to me, Princess. You brought peace to the hives. Because of you, I can walk out among the streets, undisguised, with nothing to fear. If... if you want me to go, I will. But if this is my opportunity to repay the smallest fraction of what you have done for me and my kind, I ask that you give me the chance to try.”

Twilight stared into the changeling's eyes. It felt wrong, using her to see old, familiar faces again. Wrong to be playing this game of pretend instead of letting go and moving on with her life. But, she admitted as the first tears broke the rims of her eyes and spilled over her cheeks, she needed it. A lump in her throat prevented her from making a verbal response, so she simply nodded.

Green flames lit the chamber. A white hoof reached out and stroked her mane. “Very good, darling,” cooed a gentle, cultured voice, smooth as silk. “Let us try this again, shall we?”

Bonus #3: This Is Not a Tragedy [Romance]

((Prompt: You're the best thing to happen to my life. I think I want to keep you around for the rest of it.))

Some time in the future, there will be a day.

Perhaps it will be a rainy one, like today. Perhaps it will be clear out. Perhaps the sun and moon and stars will have fallen out of the sky and left a hollow void above, I don't know. What I do know is that there is a day, and it is terrifyingly real, and on that day, you will be gone.

I will mourn that day. I will curse it with my every breath. That day will be known to all as the day Princess Celestia fell to despair.

I will weep rivers when I no longer have you. My tears will wear mountains down to nubs. They will hear my wailing in the Crystal Empire, and they will hear it in Saddle Arabia, and they will hear it across the sea in Zebrica.

I will never truly recover. I may one day smile again, but in the corner of my eyes there will be a forlorn shadow of grief. I may one day laugh again, but it will be hollow and joyless compared to how I laugh now. From that terrible day onward into eternity, I will carry a scar upon my heart.

There is nothing I can do to stop that day from coming. I have know countless ponies who have tried—wiser, cleverer, more powerful ponies than I. They never succeeded, no matter what price they were willing to pay. They only ever managed to make monsters out of themselves and their loved ones. They are the stuff of campfire tales and ghostly legends.

I cannot stop that day from coming. I can only pray for yet a little more time before it comes.

But our story is not a tragedy.

Ours is a story of joy and laughter, not of tears. Of a thousand soft kisses and whispered nothings. Ours is a story of lying in bed together, hooves wrapped around one another, tired from a long day, but too excited to go to sleep, telling one another every last one of our hopes and fears and dreams. Our story is of mad gallops across the park in the dead of night, tripping over roots and cursing and giggling. Our story is of warm afternoons curled up together in a spot of sun cast by the window, sharing content silence.

Our story is of our love, and no matter how the ending goes, it will never be a tragedy.

Because even if, when that day comes and you are not here, it breaks me completely—and it very well might—I was only ever whole to begin with because of you. I could weep until the end of time—and I very well might—and all those tears would be but a single droplet compared to the ocean of the tears of joy I have shed thanks to you. No amount of suffering or anguish could have any kind of meaning at all next to the bliss that you give me.

So please, smile for me. Do not worry too much about what the future may bring, because between you and me, I have already done more than enough of that for the both of us. Let me hear you laugh. Let me hear you sing. Let me tell you that I love you, and, if fate is generous, then let me hear you tell me the same.

Because when I say I will love you forever, it is not an idle platitude. I will love you this second, and the next second, and the next century, and the next millennium, long after my sun has burned itself to an ashen cinder and Equestria is nothing more than a distant, half-forgotten memory. I will love you forever.

That said, will you take this ring, and be my princess for a while?

Author's Note

As it is written, this isn't necessarily Twilestia; it could be Celestia x anyone. But it needed to go somewhere, so here it is.

Bonus #4: Needs More Omniship [Romance]

((Prompt: No prompt. Free writing.))

“Just a little more cucumber, darling.”

Twilight paused, six half-made sandwiches floating before her. “They've got enough cucumbers, Rarity. We'd have to cut up another cucumber to add more, and then we would have half a cucumber left and it would spoil.”

Rarity was in the midst of her own preparations for the picnic, repairing the checkered blanket, but it hadn't stopped her from peeking over Twilight's shoulder. “Or you could cut up the whole cucumber, and we would all have extra. Pinkie, you agree with me, don't you? Three slices do not a cucumber sandwich make.”

Pinkie Pie looked up from the balloon she was inflating, letting all the air out of it in the process. “They look pretty dinky, Twilight. Maybe you should add more. Or maybe some banana peppers. Ooh! What about a daub of peanut butter?”

Twilight's eyes narrowed as she put the tops on all six sandwiches. “Three cucumber slices is plenty. But this isn't about the sandwiches, is it, Rarity?”

“I've no idea what you're talking about, darling.” Rarity feigned disinterest and turned her attention back to her work.

“You think I'm playing favorites,” Twilight said. “You think I've been spending too much time with Applejack.”

Rarity huffed. “I was implying nothing of the sort! I was only trying to help. But if you're so eager to bring up the subject...” Rarity set the blanket and her needles down. “I believe you would do well to remember that we're all supposed to be equals in this relationship. It gets hard to believe you take that idea seriously when every time the rest of us want to do something, you two are off cuddling somewhere.”

“Hey, give Twi a break,” Applejack cut in. “She's worked just as hard as the rest of us combined tryin' to make this thing work. Nopony's givin' you flak for spendin' a bit of extra time with Pinkie.”

Rainbow Dash hovered above their heads. “Oh, big surprise, AJ stepping up to defend her princess. Tell me, how's that purple plot taste while you're kissing it?”

Applejack's teeth ground together. “Why you little...”

Fluttershy cowered in the corner. “Girls, stop fighting. Please.” Pinkie Pie stepped closer to her and put a hoof on her back.

“Applejack, stop,” Twilight said, a brief wisp of her magic tugging the farm pony back by her tail. “Rainbow's right, I don't need you to defend me.” She turned a cold glare towards Rarity. “If Rarity's got something to say, she should just say it to my face, not spread it around behind my back.”

Rarity pressed a hoof to her chest. “I never! The thought that you would insinuate that I—”

“But you do, Rarity,” Fluttershy murmured miserably.

Rarity's eyes widened in shock as she spun around. “F-Fluttershy?”

A defiant glare seized the yellow pegasus's face. “You do talk about Twilight behind her back. And Applejack, and Rainbow, and I just get so sick of listening to all of your negativity.”

Pinkie slowly drew her hoof back, her eyes shifting uneasily between Fluttershy and Rarity.

“Wait,” said Rainbow. “What's she saying about me? Rarity, what have you been saying about me?”

Rarity's lips pressed into a thin line. “I see. So that's the shape of it, then?” She stood up abruptly and turned toward the door.

“Rarity, wait!” Pinkie sprang up after her.

Applejack stopped Pinkie Pie with a hoof. “Let her go. If she wants to storm out of here like a drama queen, let her.”

“Like hay!” Rainbow shouted, swooping down in front of Rarity. “She's not leaving 'til she says what she's been saying about me!”

“I said that you were a codependent bundle of self-esteem issues and false bravado, and you're never truly happy unless you can make somepony look worse by comparison!” Rarity snapped.

Rainbow fell back on her haunches, mouth hanging open. “I... I...”

“Girls,” Twilight said slowly, “I think it's time that we end this little experiment.”

Applejack's eyes widened. “Twi, you can't mean that!”

“Oho! What, Twilight Sparkle can't finish something she started?” Rarity sneered. “Goodness, that hasn't happened since she was at my place last night! Too tired from bucking Apples all day, I suppose.”

“Stop!” Rainbow shouted. “Stop, I—I can't...” She curled forward, rolling onto her back. “I can't keep a straight face anymore!” She cracked up into fits of laughter. The tension in the room immediately deflated.

Applejack let out a breath she had been holding. “Phew! I wasn't sure how much longer I was gonna last! 'Bucking Apples,' that was a good one, Rarity! I've gotta remember that one!” She nudged Rarity with a hoof.

Rarity smiled demurely. “I try my best, darling. But really, Fluttershy's was the star performance of the evening. Why, I half believed I had been spreading nasty rumors, given the spirited way she stood up to me.”

Fluttershy blushed. “I've been joining Angel's acting classes lately. It's mostly pantomime, but...”

“That was fun! Let's do it again!” Pinkie cheered. She scrunched her face up into an approximation of anger. “Fluttershy! Applejack isn't fat! Why would you say that?”

Twilight shook her head. “Maybe later, Pinkie. For now, we need to get moving or else we're never going to get started on this picnic.”

Rarity tutted softly. “Twilight, dear, I really do think you should cut up one more cucumber for those sandwiches.”

Author's Note

Not sure if I should add [Comedy] to the tags for this one.

Bonus #5: It's Not the End If... [Slice of Life]

((Prompt: All good things must come to an end.))

It was Manehattan. That was where we started to sense it. There was that moment when Rarity mentioned the idea of staying in the city a while longer, and we all looked at each other. Sure, the one mare from the fashion show arrived at that point and put things back to normal. But I think that moment in Manehattan was the first time we truly realized that it wasn't going to last forever. Six mares galloping through Ponyville, having our little adventures. It was a dream, and we knew then that we would eventually have to wake up from it.

Time is a terrifying thing. It never stops—and believe me, I've tried to make it. It marches onward into the future, utterly blind to the precious things that are lost in its relentless wake. The great unicorn Starswirl the Bearded spent half his life studying time. He invented fifteen distinct time-spells, with up to a dozen variations on each, and yet, for all his obsession with the passage of time, he never once developed a spell to send a pony forward in time. “A pony falling from a great height will seek to conjure a parachute or wings, not an anvil,” he once wrote. All his spells were concerned with the slowing or reversal of time, and history notes his frustration with the fact that none of them were permanent.

Given what happened in Manehattan, I suppose we all assumed Rarity would be the first of us to leave Ponyville. Either her or Rainbow. They were the ponies who had always had ambitions far beyond the little town of Ponyville. That it turned out to be Applejack who left first caught us all by surprise, her, most of all.

Appleloosa had a nasty blight in their orchards, and Applejack could not let her kin down. She packed a bag more full of apple seeds than her own belongings and boarded a train out to the west. It was only supposed to be a week's stay, but that week stretched into two when the blight proved more stubborn than she had thought, and two weeks became a month as Applejack stayed to dig a new well in anticipation of the dry summer season. Before anypony really knew it, Appleloosa was her home. Applejack's next trip to Ponyville was only to collect the rest of her things and let Pinkie throw her a more official goodbye party.

Applejack moving out was a shock to all our systems, but Rainbow's most of all. For all her talk of big dreams flying with the Wonderbolts, I think she had grown comfortable in her role here in Ponyville. Now there was a big, Applejack-shaped hole in her daily routine. Napping in an apple tree lost its charm when she didn't have a friend coming to buck her out of it. Negotiating with Big Mac over the weather for Sweet Apple Acres just wasn't the same at all, and she had nopony to challenge to hoof-wrestling contests anymore.

So she stopped dragging her hooves and stepped up the application process for the Wonderbolts. They accepted her immediately, of course. She had proven her worth to them time and again, and all it really took at that point was for her to say go. We all cheered for her at her debut show. She was an incredible rainbow streak through the sky, and we all wiped tears from the corners of our eyes as that streak slowly faded into mist and dissipated into the open blue.

Scarcely a day after Rainbow's big show, Pinkie announced that she had been doing some serious thinking lately. I joked with her that thinking was a dangerous business, and she should probably leave it to the professionals. She smiled. She didn't laugh.

She said she had been thinking about Cheese Sandwich, and what he had been doing. Being the permanent party pony of Ponyville was great, but her encounter with Cheese had got her thinking of what life would be like as a traveling party pony instead. The idea of meeting new faces every day, of waking up each morning in a new city, really appealed to her. Ponyville would always be her home, she said, but it was perhaps time for her to let her hooves wander for a while, and see where they take her.

And like that, half of us were gone. Rarity, Fluttershy and I spent a lot more time together than we used to before. Where spa dates had once been a weekly thing between Rarity and Fluttershy, I joined them twice a week after Pinkie left, and one of us would have the other two over for tea nearly every other day. We were clinging to each other. I could see the glint of fear in each of their eyes, and knew it was in mine as well. Each of us dreading the day, wondering which of us would be the next one whose life would pull in another direction.

Something unusual happened between Rarity and Fluttershy in that span of time. Somehow, their desperation slowly became affection. More and more often, one of them would visit the other for late-night wine and comfort, speaking in hushed tones and sharing their secrets with one another, and usually staying over the whole night. The two of them had always been closer friends with each other than they had been with me, but more and more, I began to feel like a third wheel at our get-togethers. When they finally came out as an official couple, I...

...I was happy for them. Of course I was. Two of my very best friends had found happiness in each other, and it would be selfish for me to resent them for that.

Spike was devastated. I think he understood that this time it wasn't some flight of fancy over some vaguely defined idea of a stallion she'd never actually met. Rarity had finally found her fairy-tale prince... er, princess, as it were, and she was every bit as tender and chivalrous and courageous as Rarity had ever dreamed.

And I call Fluttershy courageous with no trace of irony whatsoever. Rarity's parents had a... narrower view of what love should be than some ponies do, and when they expressed their dissatisfaction with Rarity's choice of mate, Fluttershy did the bravest thing I have ever seen her do—and it bears reminding that this is a mare I have witnessed stare down a cockatrice and scold a full-grown dragon into submission—she sat down and talked with them. She explained to them, thoroughly and respectfully, exactly how she felt about their daughter, and how Rarity felt for her. How Rarity's heart was her own to give, and how they could respect her decision or not, but they could not change her mind. She never raised her voice. She never got angry. And by the end, Fluttershy and Rarity had their blessing.

I still see them, from time to time. I still see all of my friends, on occasion. Pinkie still swings by Ponyville now and then, bursting at the seams with stories about her adventures that I'm not sure I should quite believe all of. Rainbow Dash still spends the off-season in Ponyville, and Applejack takes the train back here for every Summer Sun Celebration and Hearth's Warming Eve.

But nopony can say it's the same as it was. We're different ponies now than we were before. I think we all understand that in some sense, that part of our lives is over.

Time, like the rising tide, topples all the sand-castles we spent our lives building. It will always happen, no matter how deep a moat we dig around them or how hard we try to prop up the crumbling spires with our hooves. It is the way of things.

But it's not the end. Those times with the six of us all running about in Ponyville, they aren't gone, so long as we hold onto those memories. It's not the end, so long as we remember the lessons we all learned together. It's not the end, so long as Harmony shines within our hearts.

I sit in my study, writing this entry in our shared journal. Of course I am the one to keep it; I'm the librarian, after all. These pages are filled with the trials, the triumphs, and the tales of our friendship. I can't count the number of times I've read them all, and still they warm my heart every time.

I think I shall visit a friend today.

Author's Note

And, contrary to the title, that is the end for this series of thirty minute one-shots. It was nice to return to them for a while, but now I've run out of them. I hope you've enjoyed this brief return to the light, and hopefully you might stick around for whatever I do next. One way or the other, have a great summer, folks.

1: The Order of Sun and Moon [Comedy]

((Prompt: Somepony joins a secret organization.))

The night after her coronation, as she returned to her room in the palace, Twilight Sparkle found a note on her bed. It was of high-quality white paper, with a symbol of the sun and moon intertwined embossed on the front. Flipping the note over, she found only a single sentence written on the back.

The Order of Sun and Moon is watching.

Twilight looked around, but could find no other evidence anypony had been in her room. Frowning, she resolved to show the note to Celestia in the morning. She would know what to make of it. For now, sleep was more important than mysterious notes. It had been a long day.

When she woke, the note was gone. In its place was a new note, the same symbol but now on fine black paper. The reverse of this note had a few lines written in silver ink.

The princesses are all figureheads. Come see where the true power of Equestria lies.

Joe's Doughnut Emporium, 9:00 A.M.

Twilight glanced at the clock. She uttered a soft curse and scrambled out the door. It took a full gallop to make it to the doughnut shop in time. She arrived panting and gasping for breath, her feathers all in disarray and her mane still suffering from bed-head.

Doughnut Joe glanced at her and jerked his head toward a large glass case of doughnuts in the back of the shop. She approached the case curiously, then stumbled back as it suddenly slid to the side, revealing a dark passageway behind it with a cloaked figure waiting for her.

“Follow me,” came a voice from deep within the hood. With that, they turned around and marched into the gloom of the secret tunnel.

The doughnut case slid back into place behind her as Twilight followed. She did her best to keep pace with her guide, but it was clear they had longer legs than her. She spotted pink hooves beneath the hem of the robe, and she swore she spotted a purple-tipped wing once as the figure shifted under the garment.

“Cadance?” Twilight said.

“Shh,” responded the voice that Twilight could now clearly identify as her old foalsitter. Cadance led her into a wide chamber, dimly lit by torches. In the center there were four high-backed chairs arranged in a semi-circle around a table. Two of them were occupied by more cloaked figures, and Cadance took a seat next to them, leaving Twilight at the foot of the table.

The robes did not do a good job of hiding the dark blue and white coats of their respective occupants. “Princess Luna? Princess Celestia?” Twilight asked incredulously. “What's going on?”

Luna raised her voice. “We do not use those names here. In these walls, you will call me, 'Sister Moon.'”

Celestia's smile was visible beneath her hood. “Welcome, our newest sister. Welcome to the Order of Sun and Moon.”

Twilight looked around the room. There were a few bookshelves, a ping-pong table crammed in one corner, and a mini-fridge. “I don't... I don't understand,” she said. “The note said... figureheads, true power...”

Luna—no, 'Sister Moon'—nodded sharply. “Yes. The princesses are figureheads. The true powers that run Equestria are the ponies in this room.”

“But you are the princesses!” protested Twilight.

“Our reach extends to the very highest levels of the government,” confirmed Luna proudly.

Cadance grimaced sympathetically. “Just go with it,” she whispered to Twilight, levitating a set of robes for her.

Twilight sighed, and pulled the robe on. It was surprisingly comfortable. Very soft and breathable. “Okay, fine. So... what do we actually do here, then?”

“We are glad you asked, Sister Star,” said Luna, pulling out a stack of papers and planting them on the table. “For in this room, we make decisions for the fate of all Equestria!” She gestured her hooves wildly.

Twilight glanced at the papers. They consisted of tax reform bills, legislation... the day-to-day paperwork involved in running a country. “So... we do our jobs, in other words?”

“Basically, yes,” said Celestia, grabbing a tax form and levitating a quill. “But it's better, because we get to wear robes, and there's doughnuts in the fridge.”

Twilight shrugged. It was hard to argue with that logic. She fished a jelly doughnut out of the mini-fridge, took the fourth chair at the table, and the Order's grasp over Equestria became complete.

Author's Note

Welcome back, repeat-followers! Welcome the first time, new readers! Welcome backwards, time-travelers! Let's refresh ourselves on a few of the usual FAQs, so we can save valuable comment-space for remarks on how awesome I am.

-These stories do not necessarily share continuity unless specifically noted. Some might fit together well enough, but others are flatly contradictory to one another.

-The genre tags within the chapters are going to be a little inaccurate sometimes. Although I type them in, so I could conceivably write in whatever genre tags I wanted, I try to limit myself to only the tags available to standalone stories published on FimFic, to avoid the temptation to tag something [Weird Sorta-Melancholy Introspective Soliloquy About Fruit and Fruit Products] or the like. Also, it helps me make up my mind if I ever decide to expand any of these and publish them as standalone stories themselves.

-The prompts I use are from Thirty Minute Ponies, which, sadly, is on hiatus until mid-November. However, because I cannot stand to have only five of the Mane Six represented in my Thirty Minute series, I will be using archived prompts from before I joined. This will explain, to any of you who follow that blog, why my prompts take a sudden leap back in time.

-My username is "Somepony Else," backwards. There, mystery solved. You can stop looking up obscure dead languages and alphabet codes now.

Hope you enjoy reading these at least half as much as I enjoyed writing them!

2: One Thousand Paces to Sugarcube Corner [Romance]

((Prompt: The last five hundred steps.))

It was a thousand paces precisely from the library to Sugarcube Corner. Twilight Sparkle knew; she had counted. This was one of the things she paid attention to.

Some ponies thought that Twilight did not pay attention at all. Her muzzle was always buried in her books, they said, and she did not notice anything beyond them. But the fact was, Twilight noticed a great many things. Learning, in all of its forms, was her highest calling. While books held great value to this end, she made a point to notice patterns and learn from all things around her.

Twilight noticed, for instance, when a friend started using a different smile when looking at her than she did for anypony else. She noticed when that friend began spending more time in the library than she previously had, doing a poor job of pretending she was browsing the non-fiction section and ultimately checking out a book that she would return the next day, unread. Twilight noticed the subtle change in pitch her friend's voice took when speaking to or about her, as well as the slightly nervous bounce she adopted in Twilight's presence.

To say there was something strange going on with Pinkie Pie did not quite capture the pattern Twilight had noticed in her. There was always something strange about Pinkie Pie. It was the natural state of Pinkie Pie to be strange. But recent weeks had seen a strangeness in Pinkie that did not seem quite so... Pinkie... in its strangeness. It was a subtler sort of oddity than Twilight was used to seeing in her friend, and the more she thought about it, the less it fit. There was very little that was ever subtle about Pinkie Pie. Pinkie was party cannons and confetti and ten-piece bands. Finding something more nuanced than all that... well, it didn't exactly make Twilight nervous, per se—which was unusual in itself, as many things about Pinkie made Twilight at least a little bit nervous, at least out of concern for public safety and order—but it was a puzzle nonetheless.

If there was one thing Twilight could not abide, it was leaving a puzzle unsolved. So, on a sunny Wednesday afternoon, after tidying up and closing the library, Twilight Sparkle took the thousand steps from her home to Sugarcube Corner to get to the bottom of the mystery.

As in all investigations, she took an organized approach. Hypothesis, test, result, repeat. Her first hypothesis: Pinkie's behavior had something to do with Twilight specifically. Test: observe Pinkie's interactions with other ponies. Result: as suspected, Pinkie behaved... well, not normal, but normal by Pinkie standards, and only changed when interacting with Twilight herself.

Repeat. Twilight's new hypothesis made her a little uneasy. If Pinkie changed her demeanor around her, that meant that there was something different now in their relationship. Therefore the next thing to test was whether this change was for the better, or... Twilight dared not think of the alternative. She wanted to call off the experiment now, before she revealed the unthinkable. But the mystery was yet unsolved, and as much as she feared the answer, Twilight had to know.

Test. There was little she could think to test this now other than to directly ask Pinkie what was going on. Perhaps she could find some safer side variables that would allow her to stick to the safety of notepads and glass tubes, but she would not make any forward progress until she approached her and said the words.

“Pinkie... you've been acting differently lately. Is there something wrong?”

Result. Pinkie froze, her eyes wide. She quickly covered her shock with a wide grin. “Of course not, silly! Nothing's wrong at all!” A moment passed, and her gaze sank to the floor. “Actually...” she said, scuffling a hoof on the tiles, “maybe something might be really, really right...”

With whispers and blushes and more than a few giggles, the puzzle was solved. No, that wasn't quite right; truthfully, the puzzle was just beginning. It was one thousand paces from Sugarcube Corner back to the library. Skipping with light hooves, it only took Twilight half that many to get there.

11: Shedding Tears [Slice of Life]

((Prompt: Why is Applejack crying?))

Applejack hated this part.

She stood at the counter, puffy red eyes fixed on her work. No matter how she tried to stop them, tears continually overflowed the corners of her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. In the next room over, Twilight perched on a chair, her nose buried in a book.

“Where—” Applejack coughed, fighting back the tightness in her throat. “Where's this thing gonna be?” she asked.

Twilight did not respond. Her attention remained locked on her book.

“Twi?”

“Hm?” Twilight blinked. “Oh, sorry, Applejack, I wasn't paying attention.”

“That's a real surprise,” Applejack muttered under her breath. Another hot tear stung her cheek.

Twilight perked her ears forward. “What did you say?”

Applejack raised her voice. “I asked where—”

“The park,” Twilight said. “It'll be at the park.”

Applejack nodded. She sniffed her runny nose. “An', uh, who's gonna be there?”

Silence. Applejack turned to see that Twilight's attention was back to her book again.

“Dangit, Twi!”

Twilight's head snapped up. “Sorry, sorry! Uh, you asked who to expect there, right?”

The farmer nodded, her hooves still busy with her work. “If it ain't too much trouble for ya.”

“Well, Pinkie will be there for sure,” Twilight said, tapping her hoof on the end-table. “Fluttershy and Rarity said they would be late, but they would make it. Rainbow Dash... well.”

Another tear trickled across the sensitive hairs on Applejack's cheek. “I understand. Five of us, huh?”

“Looks like.” Twilight put a bookmark in her book and shut it. “You almost done in there?”

Applejack smiled and wiped her knife off. “I never much liked onions, but this oughta be enough for five sandwiches.” She wiped the moisture from her eyes with a hoof. “When Rainbow gets back from her big Wonderbolts tryouts, we'll have to have another one of these.”

“Picnics just aren't the same without her,” Twilight agreed.

27: One Great Big Ball of Friendship [Random]

((Prompt: “No matter where you are, everyone is always connected.”))

“Left hoof. No, my left!”

“Which left is your left, dear?”

“I can't keep us balanced!”

“Oof!”

“Ow, my snout...”

“Y'know, Twi, when you were talkin' about 'getting together for some quality time,' this ain't exactly what I had in mind.”

“This is exactly what I had in mind! Well, except it would have been maple syrup instead of magic, but other than that.”

“Well, we wouldn't have ended up like this if some ponies, not naming any names, Pinkie and Rainbow, hadn't replaced the focusing crystal in my lab with a piece of rock candy.”

“Hee...”

“Ya doin' all right, Fluttershy? Ya look a little green in the gills.”

“Hm? Oh, don't worry about me. I'm just a little... about to throw up.”

“Can somepony find a bucket, please? I ask not only because my mane is directly in the line of fire, mind you, but also out of genuine concern for our friend.”

“I've got a bucket stashed under the mailbox, in case of bucket emergencies!”

“Rainbow, have you got our hindlegs?”

“I've got one wing, Twilight. Just one wing.”

“Pft. Yer one wing's in my face, sugar.”

“Hey look, somepony is coming!”

“Excuse me, sir. Could you—aand he's running away.”

“Why would he run away?”

“Maybe because he saw a six-headed pony lurching towards him?”

“Darling, while you're fleeing in terror, could you be a dear and stop at the mailbox so you can toss the bucket this way?”

“Pinkie, no! Don't wave at him, we need that hoof to stand!”

“Aah!”

“Ow, my snout... again.”

“I'm sorry, Rarity...”

“Whatever for, Fluttershy? You haven't done anyth... ah.”

“Hey, that's the carrot salad I had for lunch!”

“We still need the bucket, hon, or has that ship sailed already?”

“There's Spike. Spike!”

“He he! 'Bonding time.' Good one, Spike!”

“Yes, very clever. Now listen carefully, Spike. I need you to run and grab the focusing crystal. It'll be on top of Pinkie's dresser in Sugarcube Corner. We'll also need a spatula, three mirrors, and a jar of oil.”

“And a towel, if you don't mind, Spikey darling.”

“Ooh! And syrup! Bring syrup!”