rwlart asked: What do you think makes someone a good friend?
I think something that makes someone a good friend is the amount of things that the friend gives you, that you can use and :)
Thanks for the message
Oh hey look, IRIS answered RWL’s question! IRIS seems to be learning that friends are about being given things. Wait, IRIS seems to think you can buy friends. No IRIS! Bad IRIS!
Hehe, well, I wasn’t expecting you to write a cool little fanfic in response to that at all. But the image I had in my head was just Twilight looking at Pinkie’s baby pictures or something. What you did was a lot more interesting.
Heh, the funny thing is, that little ficlet was the first thing to pop into my head. Also it has a bittersweet ending: in this ficlet’s world, big Pinkie IS still around. And shares the feelings of the mini one.
Twilight, Look! Little Pinkie life story.
The birth of the mini Pinkie was, perhaps, Twilight’s greatest magical error. Though to be fair, she never could have predicted that one of the dozens of Pinkie clones returned to the magical aether that birthed them was, in fact, not dissolved, but shrunk to a miniscule state and banished into the Everfree. And it is not Twilight’s fault that, without the other clones draining their shared mind, the Pinkie was wholly sapient. It isn’t Twilight’s fault that said Pinkie will only live for a month, and has spent twenty-nine of those thirty days desperately trying to survive as she made her way from the forest to Twilight’s bedroom inside the library.
It’s not Twilight’s fault. At least, that’s what she tried to tell herself, as she gazed at the diary of the mini Pinkie, so small she needed a magnifying glass to read the pages, while the mini Pinkie clutched a thimble of water in her shaky, elderly hooves on the nearby table. Each page brought a fresh pang of regret, a new stab of pain to Twilight’s heart, as the tone, at first hopeful, grew vengeful and hateful. Many days were full of wild scribblings about how the mini Pinkie would make Twilight pay for her suffering, only to be scratched out with little passive-aggressive apologies written in the margins. And yet as Twilight reached the last few pages of the diary, her heart rose a tad as the tone of the diary did.
And on the last page, Twilight beheld just eight words:
"I don’t blame you, Twilight. I love you."
Twilight’s magnifying glass clattered to the floor. She gulped, and took a deep, shuddering breath. “Pinkie…”
The mini Pinkie set down her thimble and smiled up at her. “Yes?”
Twilight set a hoof on the table, and sniffed, as tears came to her eyes. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
Okay, you guys, you guys. I want to talk to you about my friends, and about how wonderful they are and how much I love them, kay? This is probably going to run really long too, so even though I don’t want to I’m gonna slap a read more on this, just because of that.