The Future History of You & Me

by Royal Noir

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Romance, Equestria Girls, Sunset Shimmer, Twilight Sparkle
Length: 1760

Study date with Sunset and Sci-Twi. It goes about how you'd expect to be: cute and very, very nerdy.

Twilight is a nerd, regardless of circumstances. Sunset Shimmer has a mild case of homesickness. This all takes place during a study date, of course.
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Take note this is the Crystal Prep Twilight Sparkle. Enjoy reading!

Published 2016-10-07 03:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-10-07 03:20:01 UTC

stay in school, kids

Author's Note

Helloooooooo, FIMFiction! This is my first fiction on this site— I hope you all enjoy it. For some reason, I prefer to ship Sunset with Sci-Twi rather than pony!Twi, so yeah. A tumblr friend of mine inspired this lovely little thing.

Enjoy <3.

--RN

stay in school, kids

The bedroom was dimly lit, the shades were drawn, and they were both huddled over Twilight’s elaborate, old-fashioned oak desk. Homework was scattered everywhere, glitter gel pens were being chewed on, and two half-empty coffee cups were sitting between them.

It was a study session.

A cram session, actually, but Twilight hated that term.

She also couldn’t bear the idea of failing…

“How did you fail history three times?” The words were said in a hushed, shocked— maybe even hurt gasp. Twilight’s glasses slipped a little, and she pushed them back up. “Sunset Shimmer, that’s a freshman level course. You only need one credit to graduate— how?!”

Sunset’s cheeks were nearly as red as the streaks in her hair. She shrugged, clicking her pen absentmindedly. “It’s just not my strong suit,” she said. “No one’s good at everything, Miss ‘I Limped Through French’.”

Twilight raised a finger to protest, but then dropped it. “Alright, you got me there,” she admitted.

She wouldn’t bother mentioning it had been an advanced college-level French course.

“But anyway,” Sunset sighed. “I know I’m not good at history. It’s the only thing holding me back from becoming salutatorian, though. If I pass this year, I’m set.”

“Is valedictorian too high of a goal for you?” Twilight genuinely asked, eyebrows raised.

“Pfft, no,” Sunset retorted. “But I can’t steal your spot,”

Twilight gawked, then stammered, before looking back at her math worksheet. Her purple glitter gel pen whizzed across the paper, dividing and evaluating, but Sunset seemed to notice where the other girl wavered and hesitated.

“Carry the one, and divide that by the numerator,” she spoke up. “You should get x plus 3 over 29.”

“Do your own homework,” Twilight sighed, shoving the history textbook further towards her girlfriend.

Sunset nodded, then folded the corner of a page back and forth as her eyes skimmed the text.

But the words just swam around her brain, confusing her. Some part of her, the hard-wired part that knew things, that was aware of stories and fables since she was little — that part protested and argued against what she was reading. That was why she was such a failure in an easy subject. She must have read the same paragraph four times before she was clearly getting frustrated, and didn’t realize Twilight was holding her hand until their fingers intertwined.

“Hey,” Twilight said softly. “What’s up?”

“I don’t get it,” Sunset declared. “I should get it — these are just dumb stories,”

Twilight was so startled, more strands of hair slipped loose from her ponytail as she almost jerked away. “They’re facts —”

“Not to me,” Sunset argued. “I don’t know what these things are. Presidents? Politics? Why do you people go to war so much? Seriously, there’s at least five wars—” She yanked her hand away from Twilight’s, to flip through the book rapidly. “And why are there so many Gods? Seriously, just pick one. None of this adds up to me! I’m not used to it!”

She breathed heavily, almost panting, and let out a groan, laying her head next to the book.

“These dumb stories, that class, just makes me feel … weird,” she mumbled.

“Weird,” Twilight repeated.

Sunset glanced up at her girlfriend. “Homesick weird,” she added.

A soft “oh” escaped Twilight, and she wrung her hands one over the other. She paused, and nudged her work away. “How so?” she asked.

“Because,” Sunset protested, sitting up a little— supporting her head with one hand. “It’s not what I know. This isn’t history to me. History is,” She trailed off, rolling her eyes. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but it’s, like … well, it is magical.”

Twilight arched a single eyebrow, as if to state a point. As if she already knew.

“Okay,” Sunset continued. “The only thing your history has in common with mine is that both of our societies are thousands of years old, but that’s where it ends.”

Arms folded over her chest, expression softening, Twilight pursed her lips. “Go on,” she piped up.

Sunset pouted a little. “Don’t you have Algebra II homework to do?”

“It’s extra credit, anyway,” Twilight admitted. “Now, history lesson?”

“It began with Mother Nature and Father Time,” Sunset said. She arched an eyebrow, pausing for a second. “I heard that laugh, Sparkle. But listen up, because you wanted to know. Anyway, they created the Alicorn species — ponies with components of earth, air and magic. They later created ponies of each separate element, but the Alicorns reigned. There was Solaris, king of the day, son of Nature, and Galexia, queen of the night, daughter of Time. They were betrothed, legend says they actually had a pretty good marriage, and had their first-born, Celestia. Ten years down the road, Luna was born—”

“So that’s how principals ended up being princesses,” Twilight mumbled absentmindedly.

“I guess so,” Sunset muttered. “Anyway, the Alicorns eventually died off. Plagues and the only revolution Equestria ever had led to their extinction, only Celestia and Luna lived through it. They’ve been the rulers ever since,”

There was silence for only a moment, before Twilight scoffed. “That’s it?” she said. “Where are your great developments? Your wars? You couldn’t possibly have had the same rulers for so long— hasn’t anybody gotten sick of them?”

Sunset shrugged. “There’s a few folks who don’t approve of everything Celestia does, but otherwise, she’s pretty fair, so … no,” she said. “Equestria is a land of harmony. We don’t really fight. And you can forget about technology. Phones were extremely rare when I left.”

“And neither of the Princesses have produced heirs?” Twilight spluttered out.

“Luna was on the Moon for a thousand years, so she wasn’t getting any action,” Sunset clarified. “As for Celestia,” She trailed off, waving a hand. “There are plenty of theories she had kids, but there’s not much proof.”

Twilight furrowed her brow. “I just can’t wrap my head around it,” she muttered. “I mean, is it like England’s royal family? You just keep going on and on?”

“Yes….?” Sunset muttered. “I don’t know. This whole world has different systems, it’s weird.”

“You do know how this country’s politics work, though, right?” Twilight piped up.

Sunset bit her lip, shrugging halfheartedly. “I know people say who they want to rule and if they’re lucky, that person gets in,” she said. “That’s kinda all I know. And that person who gets in rules for only four years — eight years, sometimes. But either way, that’s a pretty lame sentence.”

Twilight gasped. “Wait, aren’t you old enough to vote?!”

“Technically—”

“I personally identify as something close to a socialist, but to each their own. I can’t legally vote yet, though,” Oh no. She was doing it again. That cute thing where she got all smart, Sunset could feel herself softening up and smiling like a huge dork — “I’m assuming you don’t affiliate with any political parties yet, seeing how you don’t understand the knowledge of them yet.”

“Yeah,” Sunset said bashfully.

She suddenly yelped when the back of her swivel chair was grabbed, and Twilight wheeled her over to her massive cabinet, where all of her most valuable and treasured books were. The fancy brass handles shimmered in the dim lighting of Twilight’s bedroom, and she swung open the cabinet, reaching up to the highest shelf.

“Did Equestria have any great philosophers?” she asked, already grabbing a few books so thick they could be used as footrests.

“Um,” Sunset tried to keep her gaze up— and not the fact that Twilight’s ‘study clothes’ (they were over glorified pajamas, really) were cute and her shorts were— “Starswirl The Bearded and Clover The Clever are the most notable. He created, like, a million spells and she was an advisor to somepony of the ancient unicorn hierarchy. Rumor says their descendants still live today.”

Twilight hummed to herself. “The only people I think who might be allusions to them are Leonardo da Vinci and maybe Galileo,” she mused.

“But they’re scientific figures—”

“Science and history basically correspond in this world,” Twilight said, simply and bluntly.

Sunset blanked. Then, she let out a soft “huh” — “You think I would’ve figured that one out by now.”

An involuntary light squeak escaped her when Twilight settled into her lap, an entire stack of books set aside on the floor and a fairly thick textbook in her hands.

“Sunset Shimmer, I am going to give you the best history lesson of your life,” she declared.

“Uh,” Sunset blushed a little, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend’s waist. “I don’t need in-depth, Twilight. Crash course works — I just need to pass with a C at best,” She squeaked a bit when the swivel chair shifted, leaning back a bit.

Twilight, like always, seemed so cute and so oblivious, lost in her realm.

“Don’t be silly!” she beamed. “We’ll go through everything you need to know about history in this dimension! And I’ll bet we can make you remember by finding allusions to Equestria’s background!” She gasped, suddenly excited about learning, because she was Twilight . “I could make you some flash cards and give you a quiz or two! You’ll be passing history instantly!”

A sigh escaped Sunset, and she shook her head. “If you think that’ll work,” she mused.

Twilight bashfully kissed her girlfriend’s hairline, and flipped to the first unit of the book, beginning to read out loud. “Approximately one hundred and seventy-five million years ago, the world started out as one whole continent of Pangaea. However, the human race, homo sapiens didn't show until—”

“Twilight,” Sunset urged, trying to sit up and protest, to no avail.

“Shh, questions are for when we reach the end of the unit,”

“Twilight, I know how to read. How did you even get a copy of a school textbook anyway?”

“My brother. Now, shh,” Twilight stressed, settling further into her girlfriend’s lap, to keep her still. “I’m not going to have anyone else take your spot.”

Sunset sighed in defeat, burying her face into the other girl’s neck, closing her eyes to try and listen … they fell asleep before Twilight could reach the middle of Unit Two. Late night study sessions were the best, indeed.