Dsarker needs ideas badly!

Just as the thread title says. I need ideas, inspiration, anything, so as to aid in the creation of more stories.

Your help would be appreciated.

Listen to music. Especially music you haven't heard before.



I've got more ideas than I'll ever finish.

First short fic, without listening to new music.


I was on my way through Ponyville's central street, trying to acquire some more food for the next week. But it wasn't just to acquire any food. My friend, a unicorn, had bet her horn that I wouldn't be able to find any food suitable for a dragonfly. I had a week to do it, but I thought that I would be able to acquire it this very day. After all, even the small town of Ponyville had a vast array of merchants passing through each day, and among these, finding food suitable for a dragonfly would surely be as simple as...Well, as simple as falling!

As I walked through the market, I bumped into none other than another one of my friends, the other unicorn. She said hello to me, and after we exchanged some pleasantries, we moved off to our individual shopping. Still caught up in memories, I bumped into another pony, who exclaimed at my apparent near-blindness when it came to spatial awareness. After a quick apology, I moved on, despite the disgruntled pegasus stallion's continued staring at me.

After checking a couple more stalls, I came upon that same pegasus stallion. He was still staring at me, and with a slight sinking feeling I read the sign on his stall. Dragonfly Food Sold Here! it read in cheerful red letters. I walked up to the stall, and after a couple of minutes, a deal was brokered. As he was passing across the bag labelled Dragonfly Food, he paused, and reached below the stall top for a second, and brought out a pair of eyeglasses. In a strange voice, he told me that he thought that I could use the glasses.

Well, I was reasonably annoyed, but I still turned back home with the dragonfly food and the glasses. I put on the glasses almost halfway there, and my vision went to pieces, almost literally. Instead of my usual sight, my vision appeared to be broken up into hundreds, thousands, of little pictures of the environment. It was a shocking experience, and I tried to snatch the glasses off at once, but they refused to come off. In my surprise, I dropped the bag, and it spilled open, though I had thought this was the least of my worries at the time.

Imagine my shock when a flight of dragonflies came on the scene, seemingly directed by some malign intelligence. They came to me and dragged me through the air, my new sight revealing every tiny detail about them in horrifying detail. Eventually they let me drop, and though I had fear of a fall to my demise, it was only two feet. In front of me was that pegasus stallion, who walked over to me and lifted the glasses off. He warned me not to cross him again, and started pulling his packed away stall away. The dragonflies followed him, and as I looked into his eyes, I could see the same eyes I had see on the dragonflies on him.

When I talked to my friend, the one who had proposed the bet, she was shocked and fussed over me, checking to make sure I was still all there. She apologised, and said that I had misunderstood her. Not dragonfly, but flying dragon food, was her goal.

Second story.


Viper Squadron was closing in on its target.

Inside the lead fighter, the pegasus pilot's body didn't move, the head-covering helmet regulating the fighter's movements. As crisply as if she was flying bare-back, her fighter prepared to break formation, the bombers that were the squadron's target now coming into sight.

“Bandits at 3 o'clock! Odds, we'll take the bombers. Evens, you've got the fighters. Tally ho!”

As the squadron broke to their respective engagements, Mist Crackle, the squadron leader, took her fighter into a steep dive, lining up on the Griffon Devil-Divers below her, small one-man dive bombers. As the one she had lined up on grew larger, she prepared to fire.

RATTA-TAT-TAT-TAT! chattered the machine guns of her Vigilant fighter, and the bullets tore through the Devil-Diver in her sights. She held her fire, and was rewarded for her diligence as the bomber caught flames and dropped into a terminal dive. Mist lifted the nose of her Vigilant, and swung to the next target.

“Viper actual, bogey on your six!” came a hurried warning over her radio, and she started jinking her crate around, hoping to throw off the Griffon's aim. Her attempts were for naught – one of the bullets coming her way must have hit the engine, and after a few sputters, it stopped dead.

“Celestia above. This is Viper Leader, bucking out!” she called before she kicked her back legs out, knocking away the canopy. Shrugging off the helmet, she jumped out of the craft. All around her, the deadly melee of aerial combat continued, individual dogfights starting and stopping as fighters broke away or were taken down. She pulled the rip cord, and her parachute puffed out. She sighed, and settled down for a wait.

As she watched the battle, she saw another Griffon fighter seeming to be heading her way. Her suspicions were rekindled as she saw the face of the clearly insane pilot a second before a hail of lead started coming her way. She barely had time to swear before her body came apart.