Fallout Equestria: When I'm a Toaster Repairpony

by psp7master

Rating: mature
Tags: Romance, Comedy, Crossover
Length: 6577

When the great battles have been won, the past leaves its scars. Littlepip knows it only too well. She also knows that your loved one can help you deal with any issue. And her lover, Homage, has a... peculiar way of dealing with issues, sometimes.

18+ [WARNING: HomagePip toaster/toaster repairpony sexual role-play]

When the great battles have been won, the past leaves its scars. It catches up with you, threatening to crush you with guilt, pain of loss, and heart-breaking sorrow. Littlepip knows it only too well. What she also knows is that your loved one can help you deal with any issue, any problem, by any means. Homage has a… peculiar way of dealing with issues, sometimes. A firm believer in the healing power of orgasms, the DJ has an idea. An idea that may change her, and Littlepip's, life. Or, at least, their sexual life. Or, just lead to a night of kinky role-play. In any way, it is worth a try, right?

/This story is set in the universe of Fallout: Equestria several years after the events of the Fo:E chapter Epilogue. Yes, Kkat has graciously given me permission to use her characters in this story. No, this story is by no means canon or connected to the main storyline of the original Fallout: Equestria.
This story was inspired by the worderful picture by King-Koder that I'm using as cover art. Show the artist some love!
Edited by Syvvak

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-11-22 12:10:03 UTC

When I'm a Toaster Repairpony

Fallout: Equestria

When I'm a Toaster Repairpony

"Hey, nice work, Littlepip. Next time you're in the neighbourhood, pop into the studio: Ol' Pon-3's toaster's been on the fritz."

Toasters.

Pre-War contraptions of steel and wire - or, if The Great Encyclopaedia of Ovens and Toasters is to be believed, steel, chromium, and nickel - that make our life easier, brighter, and tastier. Steadfast colossi of the Old Equestria, along with near-indestructible coffee mugs. Divine appliances of awe and inspiration.

And, well, a means of toasting bread. When you have toasted the bread, however, it becomes toast: same appearance, different approach. That should be noted.

You may not need this information for building a new, vividly colourful, peaceful Equestria, but I figured that, if I'm going to tell you the adventure of that night - explain how the hell I ended up having kinky role-play sex with my marefriend and why I want to do it again at the first opportunity - I should probably start by explaining a little bit about toasters.

What is a toaster? A toaster, according to the aforementioned Encyclopaedia of Ovens and Toasters (which, ironically, had been my only book here in the SPP tower till I retrieved parts of my Junction Library collection - and till Homage brought me some very... educational magazines that may or may not include mares in socks), is a small electric kitchen appliance designed to toast multiple types of bread products. A standard Pre-War toaster can make toast from practically any bread product in one to three minutes. While I myself have had the opportunity to see the glorious device at work only once - and the 'bread product' was simple rye bread - I still find myself fascinated by toasters and try to read up on them.

When I'm not controlling the weather or meeting my friends, of course.

While controlling the weather is not a very interesting process - and, to understand it fully, you'd have to share the SPP pod with me and undergo an artificial self-induced coma, both of which may not be to your liking - meeting my friends is what I am always looking forward to, in this prison of my own device.

(Comfortable, cushioned, access-to-the-whole-Wasteland-network-giving prison. It also allows me to watch Homage as the beautiful DJ mare has showers. Not that I have ever used the opportunity. Okay, maybe once. Twice. ...Half a dozen times.)

My friends... Those amazing, wonderful ponies... And a zebra. And a dragon. Those wonderful people - without them, I would have never achieved anything in my life. Apart from, maybe, becoming a certified PipBuck technician. The people who have always been there for me, shared both good times and bad times, helped me carry on when the very notion of existing seemed pointless to me. Friendship is truly one of the purest, cleanest, shiniest, unspoilt, most beautiful virtues in the whole of the Equestrian Wasteland and beyond. (I really should stop thinking of Equestria this way, with the wonderful ponies of today rebuilding our land for both ourselves and future generations.)

But, of course, friendship is not the only virtue I have discovered during my quest across the Wasteland.

I have discovered Loyalty. The strong, rust-coloured, winged virtue that shows how much trust we, as living beings, should put into each other. The virtue that reminds you that you are not alone in your decisions - and in your life. The virtue whose bearer will forever remain your friend, once you have gained - and earned - their trust and loyalty.

I have discovered Kindness. The lovely, beautiful, healing virtue that is the mother of all good in the world, which shows us that, even in the darkest hours, even when no light ahead is to be seen, it is our own inner strength - our strong, steadfast kindness - that will shine as a beacon of holy light in the darkness. The virtue that is a candle in a dungeon, but a candle so strong that its fire lights up the way out, no matter how strong the winds may blow. (If you are wondering how the hell winds can blow in a dungeon, I remind you that there are weirder things. Like trains. And rock farms. And ex-Enclave pegasi politics.)

I have discovered Honesty. I have learnt that, while being honest sometimes meant knowing when not to be honest, you still have to bring, and bear, the truth. No matter how bad it hurts.

I have discovered Laughter. The virtue of pure transcedence, the virtue that overcomes death itself. (If Ditzy Doo is any indication.) The mysterious, even background, virtue that veils around the other ones, but still prevails, if only because without laughter nopony can proceed on with their life. Nopony can face adversity and remain sane without good-natured, sacred, virtuous Laughter. Without laughter, the whole of Equestria would have remained psychopaths and maniacs. The Wasteland would reign over the dark, barren, scorched land. Looking at how Equestria renews itself, looking at how the ponies of the Wasteland restore it, I know that it - the whole thing - was worth it.

I have discovered Generosity. The elegant, refined, unwavering virtue of giving unto them that is athirst the waters of life, and much, much more. The virtue of giving everything - including your own soul - and never asking for anything in return. The virtue that is so close, yet so distant, to Sacrifice - the meagre, compared to those sacred Elements, virtue of mine.

I have discovered many virtues and vices. I have seen corrupted virtues that crushed whatever good the bearer has inside them, and I have also seen reformed vices that, under certain circumstances, could allow the bearer to recover. I have seen many things in the Wasteland. But I can say, without any doubt, that the greatest virtue of all is Love.

Love is born when you're born. Love is given to you by your parents - if you do have them, and it is carefully, thoroughly cultivated throughout your life. Lack of love can do terrible, horrible things to a pony. Lack of love leads to disease, loss of character, violence, and insanity. We all need somepony to love, and somepony who loves us back. Mutual love is the coal that fuels our soul and leads to no war, but only eternal, tranquil peace.

It would be unfair to say that love is achieved without struggle. But this struggle only lays the firm, concrete foundation for the feeling, for the divine emotion we call Love.

Sometimes, it also comes with a lot of orgasms.

Of course, orgasms are not the main point of my relationship with Homage, but, to pay homage to honesty (and I should, for Honesty, after all, is Homage's Element and virtue), I must admit that they still play a very important role. Sex with Homage is one of the things I always look forward to. Stuck in the pod, in a coma, controlling the weather, able to see the outside world through hazy imagery of cameras... To me, this is very, very difficult, if only psychologically. So, when I disconnect from the pod, only to remember that I can't leave the tower, true to the oath I've sworn myself, I always find solace in the fact that Homage is about to come and make me, well... come.

Celestia's rubber maredick, I really should reconsider my wording. I can only hope Life Bloom doesn't add this story to the Book. If he does, I will find him (which is not hard, given the spritebot network), ask Homage to take a stick, and shove it up his flank.

Now that I think about it, he might actually enjoy it.

Anyway. I'm Littlepip, and this is my story - the story of that night and what it means to me. And Homage.

And toasters.

***

The helmet came off my head easily as I pressed my hooves against the slightly-warm metal in a swift, yet lazy, familiar motion. As soon as I had learnt how to detach myself from the pod - not without Homage's help - I had been trying it more and more often. At first, when my weather-controlling skills were weak and meagre, I couldn't leave the pod at all, if only because the situation demanded my utmost concentration. As months passed and I realised that, sometimes, a stray wind may not cause much of an issue, I began taking short 'trips' to the real world. My muscles had protested against so far as taking a step, in the very beginning, but, with time, I had managed to teach my body to move freely inside the room, and then the tower.

Now, muscle soreness was not a problem. I gulped down the sweet, muffin-enhanced-cake-like taste in my mouth, the fellow companion of the arcano-tech device, and took a few deep breaths so that my head would get better acquainted with the lack of mental pressure the helmet inflicted, additionally to the physical pressure on the skull. And here I was, thinking that, with my small frame, the physical pressure would be negligible.

No longer circumscribed by the pod, I stretched my weary limbs, allowing my muscles to get in touch with my nerves and exchange their how-do-you-dos with my brain. A touch of nausea entered the confines of my gut, just like every time I disconnected from the pod. Immediately, I turned my attention to the tiny table, my pod's close neighbour, that Velvet had insisted on setting up during one of her visits - the early ones, when my friends (and marefriend) still had to make use of Spike's fire to enter the tower. Of course, then I'd learnt that all security systems could be disabled from the inside temporarily, allowing my visitors safe access... As I may have already mentioned, I am not a very clever pony.

But, while I may not be a clever pony, I am still a good pony. Through all the adversity, through all the vice, through all the challenges I have had to face - through all my trials and tribulations, I still believe that I am a good pony, despite the evil I have done. Sometimes, when the hills and plains of the new Equestria - a land restored - are silent, with soft, gentle winds breezing over the quiet night, a night without pain and gunshots; when the creatures of Equestria slumber in shelters that look more and more like real houses now; when the starry sky smiles at the land and Luna's moon shines to everyone - I think about my virtues and vices, about the good and bad I've done, about my rights and wrongs, and, sometimes, I lose faith in myself.

Imagines of the past, those shadows of times long past gone keep haunting me, and I check in to Tenpony, get on my private line, and watch Homage sitting in her studio, giving a late-night broadcast to the whole wasteland, a mug of cold coffee next to her; and I talk to her. I call her. I tell her that I need her and I remind her that I love her: a fact that she does not need to be reminded of. And then Homage, not Equestria's DJ Pon-3, but my Homage, wraps up the broadcast, puts on music, and leaves everything just to come here and see me, and remind me that I am needed and loved. Remind me that I am worth her love.

I yawned, not caring to cover my mouth with a hoof. Contrary to popular belief, pod-induced coma is not sleep: while it does keep your body stable, healthy and hydrated, it does not feel the same as real sleep, water, and food. Taking a fresh carrot - one of the few produced after the new Elements had purged Equestria - I munched on it delightfully, smiling to myself. My Pipleg was telling me it was late evening, and only a matter of minutes till Homage would come.

I sighed in content as, with a press of a button, the tower's restrictive defences fell to let the beautiful unicorn mare in. Any moment now. I didn't want to ask Celestia to watch the security monitors, nor did I want to do it myself, if only because I didn't want to ruin the surprise that Homage had promised me.

I must admit that, last time she was with me... I broke down. I am a strong pony. I am enduring. I can face danger and adversity, let it hit me, and overcome. But this little mare, this "Lightbringer", couldn't look at the sight of a small seed! A few days prior, when I was monitoring one of the trade routes of the NCR, my eyes... erm, camera lingered on a cart full of seeds ripe for planting in the rich, radiation-free soil of a newly-built farm, a farm where peaceful, happy ponies would live and grow crops and trees, and sell produce, and chat with neighbours and customers, and their grandchildren would never know the darkness and violence of the Wasteland... That struck a nerve. I had to disconnect from the pod, lest my mental instability influence the weather, and wept openly for what seemed like hours till Homage came and soothed me, stroking my mane with her tender, soft hooves, and kissing me with those delicious, slightly salty lips of hers, and putting her tongue in... um, let's say that she had managed to calm me down, eventually.

Still, she had promised me a "very special treat" someday. And that day was today. I pranced a little with a small giggle in anticipation. We'd tried... well, many things. Bondage. Spanking. (I blame Velvet. And Homage, of course. But mostly Velvet.) Socks. Pants. All the positions we could find in Ponysutra. (Yes, even that one.) And still... one special treat ahoy! It was, without any doubt, very refreshing for our relationship.

"Hello?"

I turned round with a wide grin, ready to throw myself at Homage and pounce her ten ways from Saturday. However, as I took in the sight of my marefriend, my jaw may or may not have hit the floor. (Hint: it certainly did.) She was still the same Homage I cherished and loved, the same mare I adored and respected... only in a toaster. Well, a toaster costume, anyway. Silk, linen, or something else entirely - I wasn't sure about the fabric. Still, it was a shiny-looking, silver two-slice toaster. And nothing more. Not even socks. I could no longer contain my surprise. "Is that your 'special treat'?!"

Homage let a tiny grin on her face. "Well you do love toasters, don't you, my little toaster repairpony?" She swished her tail against my nose. Mmm... The strawberry-shampoo-enhanced scent of her tail... I could feel myself drooling.

Still, "Not to such an extent."

"Oh?" Homage fluttered her eyelashes. I swear she learnt this trick from Velvet. I made a mental note to talk to Velvet when she and Calamity would drop by. If I survived this upcoming sex session, that is. "Well, I guess that I'll just-"

"No!" I blurted out, blushing a little. I'd read a lot about toasters, sure. I... I did find them fascinating, in a way. I did want to learn more. But... But I'm not sexually attracted to them! I looked at the sexy DJ mare, contemplating. But I'm sexually attracted to Homage. And Homage was wearing a toaster costume. Would that really make me a... toasterophile? "I... I'm just surprised. That's all."

Homage's grin only grew wider. Then, in a quiet, sultry tone, "I'm glad I can still surprise you~" A nibble on my ear. Mmm. "Let's just try it out, all right? You didn't like my little toy initially either, or..." That toy isn't all that 'little'... Oh my Goddess she's pressing her nose against my ear. Years. Years have passed and she can still make me tremble with only her nose. "Should I say... our little toy?" That is her tongue. In my ear. Celestia sucking on a ten-inch clit, here we go again!

As I collapsed onto the floor in the wake of a rather short orgasm, Homage giggled. I stood up with a grunt, shaking. I should probably pick up a book on orgasm resilience or I'd be forever known as The Mare Who Could Orgasm From a Single Touch. Oh wait a minute. I totally am. "Point taken. But..." I frowned. "What exactly do we do? Because I don't feel aroused yet." Before Homage could open her mouth (and probably send me into orgasmic frenzy again), I added, "By the costume, I mean."

The beautiful mare smiled at me warmly. "Littlepip, the costume is not the whole point." I blinked. "It's a role-playing game. I play the role of a sentient toaster, you play the role of yourself." I blinked again. "A toaster repairpony," Homage explained with an indulgent smile. Oh. Ooooh.

"I... I don't think I'm very good at role-playing games, Homage," I confessed. But then again, I'd never tried them before, so...

"It's sexy."

If Homage said it was sexy, then it was sexy. Period. I let a tiny grin on my face. I could do it. I could slay a dragon. I could clear up the whole sky. I could wipe out a whole bunch of raiders in a blink. Ergo, I could do a little sexual role-playing game.

Homage nodded encouragingly. "And, if it doesn't work out, I'll just rut you silly till you can't say 'orange'." Okay then... "And, if it works out, I'll rut you silly all the same~" Okay then! Looks like this toaster role-play was going to get... hot. The little pony in my head put on shades. I wanted to hit that little pony. With a stick.

I nodded. Homage nodded back. I waited for a few seconds and nodded once more, pointedly. Homage nodded back again. With a sheepish grin, "Um... So what do we do now?"

The urge to facehoof was so evident on the pretty mare's face that I was surprised she didn't actually do that. Instead, she just gave me her usual radiant smile (that always makes my heart melt, if I may add). "Littlepip, we play. We play the game. Come on, feel the role."

It took me a few seconds to gather up all the wit (not a clever pony, remember?) to drive into the role. I cleared my throat, looking about the room. There was no bed, obviously, but it wouldn't the first time we'd had sex on the floor. To use something - anything at all - to my advantage, however... Nothing. I had only my own linguistic ability to keep up the act. "Hello, I hear that there's a toaster that needs to be repaired?" I let a tiny grin onto my face. This night would be perfect. Not the kind of night of which I'd dreamt since I was small or something of the kind, but still perfect.

"Oh, yes, as a matter of fact..." Homage made a dramatic face that would make even Rarity envious, covering her forehead with a hoof. "I just need a toaster repairpony." Damn. She really was wearing it. She was really role-playing a toaster. Celestia rut me with a manticore's sting. She wasn't kidding about the 'special' treat.

Homage wiggled her flank in such a way that the folds of her costume only punctuated the smooth, sexy, round part of her body. Dat ass! the little pony in my head exclaimed, chewing on her lip. I couldn't help but agree. Luna's wiggling buttcheeks, is it wrong that I think that Homage looks sexy even as a toaster?

I cleared my throat audibly, trying to maintain the role. "Well, I am just the toaster repairpony you need!" For a moment, I felt confidence returning to me. Now, if I could only try to contain my orgasms for a while and actually have a nice role-play... and make Homage orgasm before me... Mmm. That thought seemed challenging, if not unachievable. I grinned widely, feeling much more confident in the position of dominance. "And I have just the right tools..." That's how we do it, Littlepip! the (very perverted) little pony in my head cheered. And hell, she was right! I had slain a fucking dragon. Cleared up a fucking town full of raiders. Cleared. The. Sky. Surely I could hold off till my marefriend could bathe in her own ecstasy-

"Luna hoof me sideways and below!" I shrieked as Homage, no longer able to restrain herself - or maybe having no desire to restrain herself (probably both) - leapt at me and tackled me to the ground, locking our lips in a passionate kiss that, as ashamed as I was to admit it, was quickly contributing to a very familiar orgasm build-up. No, Littlepip. No. Hell no. Her tongue slid into my mouth, meeting my own. Hold on. Don't. Don't cum yet. I met her wet, craving organ with my own, tongue-twisting my mare to the best of my ability. Slain a dragon. Homage moaned into the kiss, sending tingling, melodic vibrations all over my mouth. Slain. Dragon. I broke the kiss and moved onto her neck, just above the shoulder, where the toaster costume began. "That's some nice toaster," I said, not to drop the act. Besides, it really did take my mind off, well, orgasming immediately. At least, I was glad that my brain was weird enough for that phrase not to kill the mood. Then again, I'm not quite a... 'normal' pony when it comes down to erotic stuff. I mean... Look. Griffin flank. I've stared at a griffin flank. More than once. More than at one.

Homage hummed in delight and let her hoof make its way to my little Littlepip. I made a mental note to reconsider my pet name for my vagina. Still, I was steadfast in my resolve to let Homage cum first, and with an interesting role-play to match, no less. I'd slain a fucking dragon, after all!

As the grey hoof made its way past the entrance, I realised that slaying a dragon was not a decent enough experience to withstand my marefriend's tender touch. Pre-orgasmic waves came rushing over me as I shuddered in sheer bliss. Be unwavering! The little pony in my head blushed and looked away. I screamed.

Homage lingered for a moment, letting me catch my breath after the second orgasm (I was absolutely certain she was counting), before proceeding to turn her sexy, unbearably hot, perfectly-shaped flank towards me. And unzipped the costume.

Celestia's horn raping Luna's ass.

The silk (linen?) toaster did not come off her slender, deliciously attractive body. The zipper only revealed the prize, my ultimate destination, through a specially-made gap. I felt faint. Now toasters were starting to look sexy. I tried to stand up, but my legs decided that, after two orgasms, it was for the better to just lie there on the floor.

"Mmm, I have this feeling in my wiring," Homage cooed. "I think it demands immediate checking~"

Oh yes. Let me check that sexy wiring, my little toaster... Wait. I did not just think that! Still, all I could do was roll over weakly. Slain a dragon, Littlepip. I told the little pony in my head to shut the fuck up. Dragons were dragons, and Homage was Homage. I needed to win some time for my poor lungs to catch my breath, and - what a coincidence - I did have a matter I'd wanted to discuss with Homage for a while. "I wrote a song." I felt tears in my throat. Shouldn't have brought this up. Stupid! Stupid! But... If I forgot about it (a very real possibility, with Homage's 'treatment'), I would never fogrive myself.

Homage looked back. "Littlepip. I am standing here, before you, in a toaster costume, winking my longing, desperate, dripping pussy at you, and you're telling me you wrote a song?"

I flushed. "Y-yes."

Homage sighed, turning round, as she trotted up to me, placing her hoof on my shoulder comfortingly. She lay next to me, her head resting on my chest in a show of mutual trust and inner tranquillity. "Come on, Littlepip. Tell me everything." She smiled softly.

I marvelled at how this strong, steadfast mare was able to give up her own satisfaction to listen to my rambling, to help me with issues that, to me, may seem meaningful, but to her may seem unimportant. Still... To her, they were all important. Because they were my issues, my problems; just as her problems were important to me. No, Homage was not just Honesty, I concluded. She was the Element of Love.

"Well, since we always have serious talks in mid-sex, anyway..." I chuckled sheepishly, trying to hide my anxiety and unease beneath a mask of wit and bravado. As you always do, Littlepip. I hit the little pony in my head with a stick. It felt good. "I wrote a song. I was thinking..." And blushing like a schoolfilly we go, Littlepip. "Maybe Velvet..."

"Oh~" Homage purred into my ear, not hesitating to nibble on it immediately upon. "You were thinking of Velvet during our little role-play, weren't you?"

"I-I-I..." Double the blushing, double the fun! "M-maybe..." What? What the hell, Littlepip? What in the Gawd-damn hell was that? The little pony in my head started sharpening a pitchfork. I couldn't blame her. "I-I mean, no!" I squeaked, watching a smug grin make its way to the sexy toas- erm, unicorn's face. "Not in that way!"

"Oh, Littlepip~" Homage enveloped me in her soft, loving embrace. The toaster was leather, I realised, as the fabric pressed into my fur. Definitely leather. Or latex. "If you want a threesome, you have but ask!" Can I have a foursome, please? I'll kill the little pony in my head. I'll shoot her in the mouth.

"I wrote a song for SteelHooves."

Homage fell silent. So did I. What was there to be said? Oh, but there was. I just couldn't force myself to say it.

Homage rubbed her nose against my cheek comfortingly. "I'm sure Velvet would love to record the song. SteelHooves was a brave, noble pony." That did it.

"That's the problem!" I practically jumped up, tossing Homage off me, as anger gave me power. "He wasn't a noble pony! He was a cunning, backstabbing, intrigue-planning bastard who ruined his own relationship because of bigotry and mistrust!" Hello, tears. Long time no see. "Don't you see it, Homage? None of us are noble ponies. Calamity's a well-trained killing machine, and only his principles hold him back from unleashing his power on the innocents. Velvet's got a fucking mental disorder and can crash any minute. Any. Minute!" I stomped my hoof against the floor. It hurt. "Xenith... Don't let me get started on Xenith. I, myself, have killed so many ponies. Massacred dozens of Hellhounds. Endangered hundreds of innocents!" Each stomp was sending bolts of pain through my hoof. "And you-"

"What about me?" I froze. Homage was looking at me with those sad, pained eyes, those pools of sacredness that I found myself lost in. "What about me, Littlepip?"

I sat down on the floor, my legs no longer holding me. "You are beautiful." My mind couldn't picture Homage holding any vice. "You are perfect. I... I am not worthy of you." Suddenly, I felt a sharp, swift slap on my cheek. I rubbed the spot, staring at my marefriend, whose eyes were teary and angry. She was shedding anger. She was radiating fury. She was dripping righteous irritation.

"Don't you ever dare to say that, Littlepip." I gulped at the stern, steely notes in my Homage's tone.

I replied with the first thing that came to my mind, the thing that had been on my mind "I'm no better than Red Eye." Deep inside, I knew it wasn't true, but... But we were way, way too similar in our deeds not to make a comparison. And that comparison had been eating me up from the inside for a long, long time. It was probably this striking, dirty similarity that made me break down; the mentioning of SteelHooves was just the trigger. The dam would have broken eventually, and I was somewhat glad that it happened while I was in the presence of Homage.

Homage scooted nearer, and I closed my eyes, expecting another (well-deserved) slap. But it never came. Instead, I felt my Homage's warm, gentle breath on my cheek as she hugged me tight, and held me close, letting my tears flow freely, like the proverbial waters of life. "What makes you say that, love?"

Maybe it was the sweet, tender form of addressing - or maybe it was just my mare's very presence - but I felt the right words come to my tongue straight from my exhausted, worn-out mind. "We both did bad things. We... We were both ambitious. I never questioned anypony else's right to take up this pod. My sacrifice... It reeks of narcissism," I confessed. "We were both doing everything we saw necessary, because..." I gulped, bringing myself to say it. "The ends justify the means."

Homage stroked my mane in prolonged, soothing motions. "Do they?"

"No," I immediately contradicted myself. I knew it was not true. The end - any end - did not justify the means. You could not commit a massacre for the greater good. "But... But we both acted as if it were so."

Homage smiled her lovely smile. "Littlepip, this, right here, is the difference between a good pony and a bad pony. A bad pony believes that, since the ends justify the means, he can do anything to achieve his goal, which he believes to be just and right." Then, she tapped my chest. "A good pony believes that, no matter what the goal, only necessary sacrifices may be made, and makes those sacrifices herself as well. A good pony knows that, by doing good, she is bringing her goal closer, and, by doing bad, she is spoiling the goal, no matter how sacred it may be."

I curled up in Homage's lap, feeling the leather (latex?) of her toaster costume warm and nice against my fur. The wisdom of her words had not sunk in yet, but I knew it would. Later. For now, I just needed the comfort of my mare. And that, I received. That, I had worked for, and earned. Nopony could take that from me - just go ahead and try. That was mine. It was mine to keep.

"You aren't perfect, Littlepip," Homage said warmly, no sadness staining her tone. "I'm not perfect. Nopony is perfect. Not even Celestia is perfect." My ears perked up at the mentioning of the Goddess's name, but then I concluded that the regal princess was not eavesdropping. Probably. "SteelHooves wasn't perfect. But he was a good pony. Calamity is a good pony. Velvet is a good pony. You are a good pony - in addition to being ridiculously good-looking." I blushed, my cheeks adopting a tint of fine pink. "You all did what you could. You did what you must. You did do bad things, but you did much, much more good than bad. And the end to which you have brought the Wasteland chapter of Equestria... It just does not need to justify the means. Because they were fair."

I wept openly at such beautiful, encouraging words. I wept for the world we'd lost, and were now restoring. I wept for all the innocents who had had to sacrifice their lives. I wept for all the pain, and toil, and strife that of the past - and for that of the future. I wept because I had a wonderful, beautiful, supportive mare. I wept because I had her love, which I felt I did not deserve.

"Sorry for hitting you. I needed to bring you round." I felt Homage's breath on my ear - hot, delightful, shiver-inducing. "Do you want me to kiss it to make it all better?" I nodded numbly.

She kissed my cheek, rubbing her nose against my fur. Then she kissed lower. And lower. And even lower. Her hooves grabbed my thighs. Her tongue - her skilful, daring, wonderful tongue made its way to my inner lips. I relaxed, letting it inside. My eyes rolled up as my body convulsed in sheer delight. And... here we go again.

I did not need to be unwavering, I realised as I tried to regain control of my twitching limbs after yet another orgasm, with which Homage had been so generous. I needed to trust her; and love her. And, with her trust and love, I would be whole. Always. I smiled. "I missed you, Homage," I said, bathing in the warm, delightful presence of my mare. My Homage. My bringer of truths and licker of... Erm. My bringer of truths. That'd do. "I... I'll give you the lyrics to the song, Homage, all right? Could you give it to Velvet for me?"

"I missed you too, my little Lightbringer." She planted a breezy, small peck on my nose. "And yes, I'll do that. On one condition." Huh? I looked at the pretty unicorn, who turned her rear to me once again, almost planting it in my face. "You owe me some wiring fixing."

Oh. Oh. Ooooh. I grinned. This toaster repairpony is not so worthless, after all.

***

Days later, as I sat in the spacious chamber, having detached myself from the pod, watching the screens that showed bright, green-tinted imagines of a new, colourful Equestria - the farms, the roads, the caravans, the trees, the setting sun gifting the world with its beauty, I couldn't help a smile, sipping my tea.

The life was worth living. The whole affair - bringing back the sun - had been so worth it. Watching the foals, young, newborn foals, foals who knew no fear of death or radiation poisoning, playing with each other, those tiny, bright specks of light on the new, glorious landscape, I smiled for all the good we'd done - all of us. Even though there had been hardships, we'd overcome. Even though the darkness sometimes seemed to have enveloped all and everyone - it never prevailed.

I turned on the radio on my Pipleg, listening to Homage's altered voice. While many ponies knew the true face of DJ Pon-3 now, she still kept up the honest act. Bringing the truth that, now, was hurting less and less with each passing day. "-And now, a new hit from our beloved neighbourhood singer, Velvet Remedy, with lyrics written by - drum roll - our very own Lightbringer, Littlepip, aka The Stable Dweller, aka That Mare Who Can Orgasm on Command!" My eye twitched. Homage was so getting spanked. The little pony in my head ran off to prepare bondage gear. "So take off your hats, children, for this one is dedicated to the pony who made your safe, raider-free, rad-free life possible, along with the heroes you all know. Elder SteelHooves."

Velvet's voice - older, but still smooth as silk - filled the room with the song that was coming straight from my, and her, and Calamity's, heart. The lyrics were personal, so personal, dancing on the fault line, but... SteelHooves voice resonated in my ears. No more secrets. I smiled bitterly. Yes. No more secrets. Like you wanted. While I did not like some edits Velvet had made to the song's lyrics - I sensed Homage's help there - I closed my eyes, a tear of memory and content rolling down my cheek.

Oh how do you do, fair Ranger SteelHooves?

Do you mind if I sit here and tell you the news,

While I rest for a while in Celestia's sun.

I’ve been trotting all day, and I’m nearly done.

And I know you were loyal, courageous and brave

Till you joined your beloved and brethren in grave.

Oh, I know you died quick,

But the war wasn’t clean.

Oh, Ranger SteelHooves, that damn war was obscene!

Did they stomp their hooves loud?

And did they scream and shout?

And did they march away after setting you down?

Were they really that broken or did they just pretend?

As they buried you here in this nopony’s land.

And I know that you left your beloved behind

When she died in a Stable and you were ghoulified.

Did she tell you that she had been bearing your foal?

Would you care? Would you even remember it all?

Or would you lay down in Equestrian Wastes

And weep for your loss till the end of your days?

No, of course you would not, for you were way too strong.

But you lived by her side, and you’re never alone.

Did they stomp their hooves loud?

And did they scream and shout?

And did they march away after setting you down?

Were they really that broken or did they just pretend?

As they buried you here in this nopony’s land.

Now the cloud curtain’s gone, and the sun shines so bright.

For the Saviour has granted us mercy and light.

The raiders don’t bug us and don’t kill any more.

We can hope that your war was the last of all wars.

But you are the reminder of times long past gone

When you struggled to bring us the glorious sun.

You succeeded, albeit sacrificing your life.

You perished to save us from darkness and strife.

Did they stomp their hooves loud?

And did they scream and shout?

And did they march away after setting you down?

Were they really that broken or did they just pretend?

As they buried you here in this nopony’s land.

And I can’t help but wonder, fair Ranger SteelHooves,

If the ponies remember the whole of the truth?

Do they know that you helped, or their memory lacks

The Steel Ranger who once we could call Applesnack?

Well I know that I do, and I forever will.

Though that some ponies don’t and will speak of you ill.

But rest now in peace; you have suffered enough.

For if war never changes, then neither does love.

Yes. Yes, I thought as the warm, delicious tea enveloped the insides of my stomach. War... War never changes. It was foolish to believe that there would be no struggle in the New Equestria. I could only pray, hope, and believe that there would never be a total war, a horrible, apocalyptic devastation. There would be battles. But the battle isn't won when one side has eliminated the other. Sometimes, averting a battle, rejoicing, and making peace, was so much more of a victory. War never changes. But neither does love. I have Homage to thank for gifting me with this revelation.

As I sipped tea, listening to my mare's broadcast, contemplating different ways in which I could properly... punish her, I couldn't help a chuckle.

Sweet Celestia, I would never look at toasters the same way. Ever again.

Footnote: Maximum Level

Quest Perk added: Toaster Repair Extraordinaire - You are a very experienced toaster repairpony who specialises in... wiring. You have a 100% chance of fixing the... wiring of a particular toaster.