#mlp fanfic

[evelili]

no context manga redraw of a scene from this really cool fanfic :)

[pinkies-senses]

Dear Celestia,

Today…

Twilight bit the bottom of her lip, staring at the blank page that was supposed to be finished and sent off an hour ago. Her hooves sat crossed in front of her, already gone numb from staying in that position for longer than what would’ve been recommended.

There was nothing new to write to her mentor, today was the same as yesterday.

Reassure the ponies and other refugees, wait for a cure or Spike to report back to her, have guards check on Rarity’s health, vent to Cadence about sitting around and doing nothing, and… well… sitting around and doing nothing.

“Look on the bright side-” her brother said to her earlier that day, before completing that sentence with the dumbest thing she has heard slip from his mouth.

“-at least you get to relax and swap roles with Celestia and her sister. It’s about time they did something for once.”

That earned him a scowl and a smack upside the head from Cadence’s wing.

Twilight’s ears flattened against her head.

As if she enjoyed sitting there and watching her friends and people rot! What’s so “relaxing” about that??? The audacity!

“…and don’t get me started on the jab he made at you and Luna, Celestia! I get that he means well, but for buck’s sake! You can’t control your powers! If you tried, you’d accidentally go scorched earth! What does he not understand???”

Snap!

Twilight’s head whipped around to stare at her quill, which broke at the force of her erratic writing.

She wasn’t even aware she was writing down her own thoughts.

She threw away her quill and crumbled up the paper with her magic only to pause… and opened it up again.

What stood out to her wasn’t the words itself (The page held nothing important, just some rant she copied onto the page.), but rather how relieved she felt.

She hasn’t written anything about her feelings nor her personal thoughts in a long time, not when she has been so busy trying to run what was essentially a refugee camp and finding a cure for the parasite that plagues Equestria.

The only substance that has filled once empty journals has been research and documentation.

In other words… she hasn’t been writing for herself.

Twilight placed the crumpled page into an empty journal and flipped to the next page, pausing to think if she even has the time for such an unimportant task.

‘…Well. It’s not like I have anything to write about tonight.’

So there she stayed in that room full of crystallized furniture and velvety sheets, preparing a hot cup of tea and a snack for that night’s leisure…

End of prologue…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Looky, a prologue! He ha Ho!

I’m really tired rn and I’m off my meds but tell me how the writing is! I haven’t written in a while so bear with me, goody goody?

Also eat grass, smoke fast, sled ass 💪

[sweetapplearts]

Next chapter’s here!

[localsya]

literally not a soul that follows me here goes here but my friend @evelili introduced me to (forcefully dragged me) to read this fic that absolutely destroyed me (girlie i wasnt expecting to read my autobiopgraphy on rarity /j but maybe not /j) wrote by @rarilight , and i just had to do some studies from the narration, these are from Last Night in Soho, apologizes for the lack of polish on twi one my love~

edit- i forgot the portraits oopsies, open 👍

[mushroompone]

On a chilly morning in early October, Ocellus came to class without a head.

What with all the MLP horror talk flying around, I figured now was a good time to re-share my big horror story from Halloween 2022. It's called The Head and it's a little bit of speculative horror about changeling biology and where we draw the line between life and death. I hope you check it out!!

The cover art (above) was beautifully done by @poggerspie :]

[askwild180demonbear]

Drew this meme a few years ago based on The Enchanted Library by @rarilight! (Go read it rn) Was asked to post it so here is me making sure it has been. :D I want to do a redraw at some point and I may post the wonky scribble version I did a few months back haha

I don't think I need to say what the meme is also based on >:3

[rachel-morrigan]

The two sisters of equestria

This is like an headcanon i want to write about btw that's why they are not Alicorns,,

[shadowlegacy3000]

MLP Infection AU: The Rasp part 1 [GRIMDARK] full video link👇🏿like and subscribe for more

https://youtu.be/ZLykF5h_m2Y?si=ztVIWmNNNv_pYqYC

Full video on YouTube like and subscribe if you enjoyed

[mioamoremalena]

[CRIMSON LIPS] gonna dump the crimson lips stuff here to keep it separated from main dfkjg sunset n another rarity quick sketch from the other night, god bless this fic

twi under the cut

^she did not survived her first wlw situationship

neither she did the second one

[meilia-stims]

The Candymare (Something Sweet To Bite) stimboard

🍬 🩸 🍬

🩸 🍬 🩸

🍬 🩸 🍬

[extremesocialoutcast]

"I know these ponies. But from where?"

Kind of a teaser for a fanfic idea I've hinted at before [1] [2] [3] (check the links if you're intrigued at all).

Currently (without spoiling the plot), the idea is for a very emotional and character-driven story, testing the characters against a more realistic and depressing world.

If this post gains enough traction and enough people stay tuned, I might start drafting sooner, but I can't guarantee.

[evelili]

animation for the fic ive lovingly dubbed “the magnum opus”, feel free to check it out if ur into horse girls being edgy and gay!

[pinkies-senses]

Bittersweet apples 🍏

Sweet apple acres was quiet, an odd scene for that piece of land as it was filled to the brim with juicy red fruits. Perfect for the taking, and yet… left untouched.

Each tree stood strong, bearing apples in different sizes and slightly different shapes. At this point, Apple Jack and Big Mac would’ve been hard at work, bucking those ripe fruits out of their leafy beds and into hoof crafted baskets.

But that quiet noon, in that vibrant green orchard, held a great unease.

The clouds were shifting in panic despite their schedule, likely the Pegasus’ doing, but Apple Jack barely paid mind to the unusual weather.

Not with the poorly hidden sobs from her younger sister filling her sensitive ears.

…And that viscous sensation that was drying and crusting on the fur of her back legs…

Apple Jack trailed behind a covered wagon that was being pulled by her older brother, Big Mac, with little Apple Bloom inside.

Despite the big wagon, it was light with very little inside.

Apple Bloom, some packages of food and tanks of water were jostled around slightly due to the uneven, gravelly road the three ponies were taking. Other than that (minus the sobbing), it was quiet.

None of them wished to speak, not after the tragedy that was forcefully bestowed on the recently. The metaphorical wounds were still fresh, as fresh as the crimson that tainted Apple Jack.

Her deep emerald eyes were locked onto the back of the Wagon, empty and void. Her throat tightened so bitterly, she knew the moment she spoke, her words would come out strained and painful.

So she let her mind get lost in the numbness inside of her, leaving her with nothing to think of.

A blank slate.

The sniffles halted momentarily, but still present before a weak voice called out from the wagon.

“…Big Mac… where are we goin’?”

Big Mac didn’t seem to hear the small voice behind him over his own thoughts and hoof beats against the dirt, so Apple Jack sucked up her pain and desire to not speak.

“Evacuatin’.” Was all Apple Jack said.

She heard a little hoof scrap against the wagon’s floor, likely her sister moving to get up, before she saw the reddened misty eyes peek through the wagon covering.

“But… why? A-and where? … Because you killed Granny?” Her voice, although mournful and tired, held animosity and anger.

“APPLE BLOOM!” Apple Jack yelled in disbelief and fury.

“How DARE-“ but before she could finish her sentence, Big Mac’s booming voice quickly dashed out fire was starting between the two sisters.

“ENOUGH OUT OF BOTH OF YOU.”

A quiet hush fell over all of them, only the gravel beneath their wheels and hooves acting as background noise.

The silence from him afterward was as deafening as his sudden outburst. Apple Jack and Apple Bloom knew that their usual mute brother only spoke a complete sentence when he felt he needed to or if he was incredibly upset.

It wasn’t too long before the red pony grunted out another response to the two.

“Apple Jack did what she did to save you. Granny was sick-“

“She wasn’t hurtin’ nopony, Big Mac-“ Apple Bloom protested but was interrupted by her older brother.

“She. Was. Ill. Apple Bloom. Of course she wasn’t trying to hurt nopony, but her sickness would have killed you too.” He said gruffly.

“But…” Apple Bloom started before giving up silently.

“Apple Jack.”

The said pony stared into the wagon, trying to stare into the back of her brother’s head.

“She’s still a filly. She don’t understand what is happenin’. She just watched our granny die.”

“Big Mac…”

“Apple Bloom needs to know what’s goin’ on, you can’t just kill somepony and not elaborate.”

Big Mac paused a moment before finishing his lecture.

“Later when we find a place to settle, you and I will have a talk. Alone.”

For the first time in hours, a gentle gust of wind rustled the apple trees. The three of them were silent once more.

Apple Jack opened and closed her mouth… before repeating the process three more times.

What more would there be to discuss? What could Apple Jack say to any of this?

The tragedy of having to forcefully take her own mother figure’s life was a hard blow to her already, but the way her little sister spoke to her as though she was some rabid animal for doing so…

What was there to say to that?

To be continued….

[sweetapplearts]

[leakypipes]

I drew a character from a fanfic called "Remember vigil"

I just think he's neat

[wandasfifthwife]

matter of importance

— eg!rarity x reader

tw || no specific gender mentioned for reader but I imagined fem while writing, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst w/ happy ending, first argument, not proofread

summary || rarity’s been asked to design a fashion line for a designer you know she’s been raving about since forever. after succeeding, she’s landed a full-time job as their designer. in doing so, she’s left you behind.

༺mlp m.list༻

She’s chasing after her dreams—why would you wish to stop her from doing so. It’s been an incredibly long journey, you know as she’s been using you as a model for her clothes. That was until she got an offer, the one that’s now lead her down a path of success; but lately you’ve been afraid that her vision for a successful future is one without you.

You might’ve not enjoyed the feeling of her needle poking you from time to time when you were her model, but you enjoyed the time spent with her. Now she has real models to work with, important measurements to take. It was all done without you. Of course you try to be supportive by showing up to her events or being in the background. What kept you going was seeing her face light up when she would recognize you in the crowd. She still cares to see you.

You brought yourself over to her workspace, sitting on a nearby chair to watch her. An ugly feeling arising when you come to realize your plans will be cancelled again. Sitting in silence beside her can only be so much for so long.

“Rarity,” you call out, voice muffled from the sounds of her sewing machine. She spots your shadow walking up, momentarily stopping to listen.

“Do you want to go that city event tonight?”

“Oh darling I wish, but I am quite backed up. Perhaps we can reschedule?”

You highly doubt it. At this rate you don’t believe you’ll get a moment alone with her until she’s at a stable point in her career. If that even were ever happen.

She’s gone back to sewing, choosing another project to work on seeing as you’ve started to talk to her. Her glasses set on the tip of her nose, fingers working on weaving the needle through the cloth, fixing a hem that had fallen loose once fitted in the model.

“Rarity?”

“Yes?”

“What’s this supposed to do,” you emphasize your words by pointing at the tack around her thumb.

“Oh why it’s a thumb tack, helps me not to poke my finger when I’m doing smaller stitch work.”

The next two, three, six questions are running her patience thin. It’s like every minute you were dragging her attention here and there, anywhere but where she needs it to be. It snaps after the eight question, pushing her mind into an unhealthy state.

“What’s going on with you,” she starts, continuing to finish fixing the dress, “you’re usually not like this.”

You debate on telling her the truth, not sure if you could handle hearing her response to your apparent “issue.” She would laugh at you, find you ridiculous for thinking her work was taking her away from you.

“I’m just talking to you.”

“Well you did, and if you can’t tell I’m busy.”

“Of course you’re busy, that’s all you ever are,” you snap, hurt bleeding into your aggressive tone. “If you would take a step back you’d see that this has been taking all of your attention.”

“It’s a serious job, it’s going to take time to do.”

“And I’m not serious enough?“

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“No,” you huff, “it’s what you’re showing. You’re acting like this isn’t a problem.”

“This wouldn’t be a problem, if you wouldn’t make one out of it. I think you’re being unreasonable, now please leave me be. That’s been quite enough.”

You wish it was a joke, or a nightmare, but her back facing towards you was reality. There was hope that she would turn around, apologize, say she’d love to meet later tonight. It hurts more when she moves to work back with the machine, the loud sound drowning out any other comments you may add.

With arms wrapped around you, you left. A choked sob escaping you once you’ve left her building. You’ve never experienced this side of her, one that’s aloof and removed. You avoided her house, walking straight back to your own to try and dry up the tears falling down your cheeks.

Rarity was unable to work. After working with a sewing machine for so long the sound has become like background noise to her, she’s used to it. So she heard your cry when you left, the sound new to her ears. She’s heard you cry before, but not because of her. Ego kept her from turning around and apologizing right then, and she regrets, guilt rising within her with every minute.

Maybe there’s a way to make it up to you. She’s rushing to check her clock, seeing that she still has two hours until the town’s event begins—she still had time. Your house was in the same neighborhood as her, a five minute walk either way. Upon approaching she notices the light on in your room. She feels worse when she sees your state. After opening the door, you’ve been looking anywhere but her, eyes puffy and red.

“I came to apologize,” she starts, wringing her hands together, “I was rude earlier, snapping at you like that. It was terrible of me. You didn’t deserve that.”

You nod along, eyes still sad and avoiding hers. She grows frustrated, movements less shy and inward.

“Oh I can’t take this. I miss you, and I’m so sorry. I’d leave this job in a second if it’d help remove this mopey feeling.”

“You don’t have to quit, I’m just selfish.”

“I do, it’s too much for me anyways—it doesn’t allow me to do what matters most.”

You’ve begun to cry again, teeth biting at your cheek to try and stop it.

“Are those sad or happy tears, darling. I quite hope they’re happy.”

“They’re happy,” you laugh, wiping at your face.

She smiles, pulling you into an embrace that would’ve had you blushing if she had done this after a week of dating. You grip her shirt, relaxing in her hold.

“You’re not a second choice to me.”