A couple of greens I wrote in a seldom-seen brap thread on /mlp/ recently.



>Pinkie Pie waddles past the rows of houses, past perplexed ponies on a morning jog, and past the market where she catches the attention of every vendor.
>Each course of her morning feast adds its own unique noise as her engorged belly breaks down the food.
>But in spite of this added weight her spirits are high.
>"Whoa, Pinkie!"
>Dash glides down through the air and halts in front of her friend.
>Her hoof jabs at the shifting heft of her belly and it gurgles in response, sending cramps all over Pinkie's body.
>"You feeling okay? You look like you ate Sugarcube Corner from the foundations up!"
>"Y-Yeah, I'm good. Guess I got a little carried away with Mrs Cake's all-you-can-eat lunchtime buffet!"
>Dash flicks her hair from her eyes with a chuckle.
>"Y'know, I don't think the 'you' there means you're the only one who gets to eat it!"
>At first Pinkie laughs, and then pumps out a percentage of her compounded gas.
FRMMPPHH
>An earthy rumble surges through the ground beneath her, and Dash has to steady herself so the aftershocks don't topple her onto her back.
>"Heh. You're gassy? Shoulda told me. I've been baking up this really painful chili fart for, like, the last hour!"
>"Ooh! Let 'er rip! Let 'er rip!"
>The pegasus straightens up; her expression quickly shifts to one of deepest concentration.
>She whips around, bumps her rump towards Pinkie's face, and fires off a wet fizzle that reeks of garlic and something a little more sinister.
>"Ech!"
>Between bouts of laughing and slipping flatulence, Pinkie holds her hoof to her nose.
>"Eww, Dashie! That stinks!"
>Dash flares her nostrils to take a sample of her own bouquet.
>It crackles in her nostrils and ignites her lungs.
>"Sheesh. I could give Spike a run for his money with farts that spicy!"
>While she swishes the smell away with her tail Pinkie rolls onto her back.
>Her gelatinous mounds of flank are stuck to the ground for a moment, collecting a layer of dirt as they squish and blorp under her shifting motion.
>"Special delivery for Ms. Dash!"
>Rainbow sniggers and eases in nice and close.
>A decision she quickly regrets the moment Pinkie lets loose.
>The cleft of her tight cheeks ripple as every loose wet bubble passes through them, building into a steady revving stream of thick, soupy fumes.
>They're so hot and heavy that Rainbow's face is pummelled, and her nostrils straight up abused.
>The air grows sour and damp, like rotten dairy products, and it's too much for poor Dashie to endure.
>"Celestia's marecock, Pinkie! What have you been eating!?"
>She can waft her wings all she wants but the smell doesn't go away.
>Pinkie heaves herself back up into sitting position, straining out another liter of gas as she does so.
>"Oh, the usual! Some cakes, some pies, some strudels..."
>"Okay, STINKIE Pie, get a load of this one!"
>With one swift motion Dash about faces and uses her tail to pull Pinkie's face right up against her rump.
>She gives a little wiggle, and then a forceful grunt.
>It's a little stubborn, but after some exertion a crude little squeaker trills against Pinkie's giggling face and floods her with stenchy fury.
>"Dashie! My nose is all numb!"
>"Phew! Take it all in, Pinkie Pie! That's raw, unfiltered pegasus fart you're breathing!"
>"Pee Yew! Hey! Hey! Dashie! Pull my hoof?"
>Dash peers over her shoulder to see Pinkie's wiggling her tail with her arm reaching out.
>"I thought you'd never ask!"
>And she locks her hoof around her friend's, tugs on it nice and hard, and the atmosphere quivers for a second as the sound of an entire brass ensemble erupts from under her tail.
>Dash can almost see the density of this fartfog passing through the air and leaving it stained.
>"Ha! Pinkie, that was great!"
>"Uh oh."
>All of a sudden Pinkie's grin falls into a worried smirk.
>"Uh oh?"
>"It's my Pinkie sense."
>Her tail starts convulsing as she falls flat on her belly.
>Growling bubbles collect in the core of her stomach.
>"I-I think there's gonna be a hurricane! No, a thunderstorm!"
>"No way! The weather pegasi and I made sure to clear the clouds away. Forecast calls for sun all day."
>"I wouldn't be so sure about that!"
>The sounds of Pinkie's stomach start to intensify like a bottle of soda that's just been flourished wildly around in the air.
>All shook up and ready to-
>She sees the explosion before she hears it; a deep, mammoth-sized detonation that kicks up dirt and floods the air around Pinkie's ass with billowing smog.
>Her liberating fart dips down into a meaty growl that's loud enough to rattle Dash's chest and tickle her eardrums.
>Pinkie's eyes roll up with perverse bliss, her tongue drools between her lips and all she can do is sigh with relief.
>After twenty steadfast seconds it sputters away into a hissing silence.
>"...Wow."
>"Uh... excuse me!"





>Horn-based warfare ceased to meet its mark.
>Catapults and canons could send structures crumbling to dust; and yet their effectiveness was not satisfactory.
>Celestia knew that in order to control potential future attacks, she had to devise a different means of combat.
>One more deadly and lasting than any quiver of arrows or charged spell.
>And so, as the captive shook in his clattering manacles, and drew a long, terrified gaze across the mountain of emptied bean cans and chomped-away cabbage heads, he knew the punishment he was about to be met with would eclipse even the most devastating spells known to Ponykind.
>An idea so ludicrous had of course required much attentive study.
>From determining the most effective fuel to finding the most crippling means of release.
>Celestia knew this kind of boundless power could topple entire kingdoms and set even the most stalwart cavalryman blurting her enemies’ secrets.
>But focused testing was first required to determine the effects.
>She looked down onto her subject both with pity and excitement.
>All that food had been simmering away quite nicely, but holding it in was starting to get painful.
>She struck a royal pose, hindquarters reared up two yards from the prisoner’s sorry face.
>”For conspiracy against Canterlot and your Princess, you are hereby sentenced to bathe in my solar winds!”
>It was all the warning he got before she focused all the built-up bean gas down through her lower intestines and out in a powerful and searing eruption.
>Just as she had practiced; clenching tightly and forcing it through as hard as possible.
>The directed jet caught the guard squarely in the face and at once he started spluttering and begging for his life.
>It were as if he had just been lowered into a pot of steaming vegetables; the air was thick and damp enough to make him sweat.
>Celestia disrupted her abominable assault to catch her breath.
>There was a downside to be noted; these kind of attacks were very taxing.
>But she could quite easily form armies of full-bellied flatulent ponies, each sect taking their turn, pausing to rest, and passing the barrage onto the next.
>”Had enough?” She shook her rump at him threateningly.
>His muzzle burned. His eyes stung. His skin was sunburned.
>But it was time to try a close-range attack.
>And so Celestia backed herself up towards the pleas of the captured stallion.
>When she was nice and close, she simply unhinged the clasp on her sphincter.
>But she went a step further; she allowed it to relax fully, until the gas flowed easy and almost silent.
>A poisonous skunk-hiss of foggy fumes that crept from her and spread around in the air.
>One little sniff and the stallion was hacking up a lung over the appalling stench.
>As sharply sour as fresh steam and rancid as turned asparagus.
>Celestia purred as her backdraft poured from her and condensed around his head.
>His mane wilted under its sodden heat and his skin just about blistered along with it.
>A stiff kick of stink whipped around and hit Celestia in the nostrils.
>Getting an unexpected taste of her own medicine, she dry heaved and groaned.
>”Goodness!”
>But all this unloading relief was worth a little smell.
>And so she simply grunted and increased the volume of her gaseous attack.
>The stallion withered under her debilitating exhaust; it was a miracle that he was still alive.
>The steady flow died away like the hiss of a snake, and with it came a long and growling sound of relief from the Princess.
>She’d been holding that one in since breakfast.
>And as she sniffed at the air, she found it smelled of the eggs she had enjoyed that morning.
>Celestia finished the prisoner off with one final concussive blast that sent him hurtling into the dungeon wall, leaving a dent in the brickwork.
>It had been more effective than she’d hoped.
>In the coming months, the Canterlot guard were altered to account for this new means of combat.
>The mess hall served only beans, sauerkraut and boiled cabbage. (Applejack was kind enough to donate the leftovers of her family’s special-ingredient Apple chili - it always gave her some particularly raunchy farts.)
>Instead of weapons training, guards were instructed in sphincter control.
>Before the year was out, Celestia’s army were equipped to face any degree of enemy from behind (quite literally.)
>But no soldier outmatched Celestia herself in terms of raw flatulent power.
>When she accidentally blew her bedsheets off with a midnight ripper her entire wing of the castle needed airing out for at least a month.
>She often delivered the final blow to her most despised enemies.
>When they saw those big fat moons wobbling their way they knew their death would be a painful one.






To the other Anon in the thread who asked for a green about Twilight, if you happen to be reading this post right now, you might like this related story I wrote: https://pastebin.com/a4sDVQ5n