A Prayer Answered

by Vermilion and Sage

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Discord, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Romance, Sex
Length: 5882

When Tern Chaser can't seem to write a good story, it takes just a little divine intervention to convince the stallion that he might want to try writing something a little more...erotic.

It seems ponies these days just don't have the patience to read the Terrible Tales of Tragedy or the Epic Epitomes of Adventuring. Try as he can, Tern Chaser just can't seem to write anything anypony would want to read-until now. His prayers have been answered, and a mare has been sent to 'help' him write a better story. There is no way it could possibly go go wrong.

A satire by 'red Sage
Cover art by 'red Sage

Published 2013-12-16 02:50:03 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-16 02:50:03 UTC

Writing Clop is Sticky Business

“I can’t believe it happened again!” Tern Chaser vented his frustration to nopony in particular as he streaked over the banks of clouds. “Six hours of work, and only one of them even bothered to read it! What is the damn point of being in a writers club anyways if none of them will even tell me if they liked it or not?!”

Behind the rapidly climbing form of the pegasus, the walls of the Stormvale University library rose; pillars of knowledge and enlightenment. Maintaining his pace soon confined his manic rantings to his thoughts, but failed to calm them down. There would have been plenty of time to seethe, had he not been pushing his wingpower to the limit, and had he lived more than three blocks from campus.

Either this is a sign that I should stick to weather engineering and that I have no place touching anything that doesn’t have math in it, or the world just hates me. And has hated me for a long time.

It wasn’t until Tern was four lengths from the door that he realized he was going too fast to avoid running into the door. Muzzle-first, he rammed into the sturdy cumulus, and was sent sprawling to land on his rump. Stars flashed in his vision, and a dull pain coated his face.

“Arrrrghhhhhh!”

Standing up slowly was the only thing left to do, other than fervently hoping the neighbors hadn’t seen what he just did. Fortunately, nopony seemed to be hanging around their houses on a Friday afternoon. As Tern managed to get himself back on his hooves, all it took were a few taps on his face with a forehoof to ensure that the part of him most damaged in the crash was his pride.

Still rubbing his muzzle gently, Tern made his way inside and slumped down in front of his desk. Broken quills and emptied ink jars were strewn across the top, all evidence of the past week’s evils. Trying to fit in his last project on top of his weekly portfolio addition to the writer’s club was just a bit too much, and when there was work to be done, nothing else could get in the way.

Sitting at his desk, Tern took a glance out the window. It was a sight he saw every day, dozens of times a day even, but it never failed to awe. Stormvale was a city of the heavens. Not as well known as Cloudsdale, for it didn’t have a full-scale weather factory, but a home of the scholars and leaders of the pegasus race ever since Equestria had grown enough to create cloud-cities. Fields of white, buildings of every shade of gray, rainbows and the cool air of the troposphere; it was a great place to call home. Pity it wouldn’t be home for too much longer.

Looking back at the quill and inkwell on his desk, Tern drew a long sigh. They’d traded feedback on their stories earlier that afternoon. When Tern’s turn rolled around, nopony had read his story. Quill Stubb, the club president, had told him later that his story just wasn’t good enough to be read by the rest of the club, and so to prevent the fiasco that had happened the last two times, he’d withheld it from the other members.

“Look bro, it’s not personal, and your technique is getting pretty good, but the simple fact is that your premise is terrible -- and anypony reading it is going to want to hurt themselves. You’ve really gotta stop fielding characters like that; you have to change up the plot a little. Tell you what, you make some of the changes I’ve marked in there and get it back to me by Monday, and I’ll send it out by the next meeting, ok?”

Tern had agreed and held his composure until he could leave, but staring at the mass of mouth-written mess titled ‘Little Mares,' he knew there was no way he’d be able to somehow turn it into a marvelous story between now and Monday. Once more, he glanced out at the cityscape, and found nothing particularly inspiring about it. Oh who am I kidding? Not even divine intervention could save this now. Wait a minute…

One hoof swipe served to close the blinds, and one quick jog to the door checked that it was locked. Taking a deep breath, Tern sat down.

“Oh this is so stupid...ahem! To my immortal rulers above, princesses and gods of this land of Equestria, if you can hear my plea, please know that I your loyal and humble subject, Tern Chaser, beg that you help me write a better story. I have nothing to offer in return save for my continued servitude, but I want this for nothing more than to amuse and entertain those other ponies who serve under your rule...ok honestly I’d really like the attention and some praise, but whatever works.”

For a few moments, Tern sat still and held his breath. The benefit of having divine rulers in the flesh was that now and again they very well would answer prayers, but the sheer volume of requests combined by the sheer unimportance of his plea almost guaranteed a lack of a response. Letting out another sigh, Tern sat back down in front of his desk and glared at the manuscript again.

“Oh, I rather doubt staring at it will make it any better.”

The sudden voice caused Tern to jump and spread his wings into a panicked flight. He was halfway to the ceiling when a magical force spared him from ramming his face for the second time that day.

“Come now little pony, running away from your problems won’t help them much either.” The voice was male; both friendly and jocular. Turning around, Tern was immediately struck by the sight of a draconequus; hunched over to fit his massive height into a pony apartment.

“Lord Discord!” Tern bowed his head in respect. “Welcome to my home! May I get you something to drink?”

“I’m sure you could, but that’s not why I’m here. You wanted help with the art of storytelling, and I, a spinner of suave stories and teller of tall tales am here to aid you in your quest.”

“I...thank you!”

“Think nothing of it. It’s more fun for me than for you, or at least it will be by the time we are both through.”

“Well...that works I guess. Where should be we begin?”

Before Tern could answer, a furious knocking rang at the door. “Oh, don’t be so rude little pony, greet your guest first and then you can figure out what to do with that horrible thing you call writing.”

Nodding in assent, Tern hurried to the door, and unlocked it as swiftly as he could. His face got jarred a little trying to push the key into the slot, but thankfully whoever was on the other side stopped knocking just as he shoved it in. Throwing back the door left him stunned.

Looking out onto the front step was like looking into a mirror. Except...the proportions were off, and the muzzle was too short. His, no her muzzle was that of a mare, but she stood every bit as tall as Tern. The puzzling part was that her coat was the same even white as his, and her mane held the two toned black and orange that he knew all too well. Her cutiemark, a seabird in flight, was a perfect copy, and Tern couldn’t tell if that intrigued him or infuriated him more. Oh shit, I’m staring. “Would you like to come in, Miss?”

“Well I didn’t knock because I wanted to stay out here!” The mare marched right past Tern, who closed the door in slowly behind.

“I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“I should hope not, because I didn’t tell you. I’m Arctic Wind, but you can call me Windy. And yes, I know that you’re Tern Chaser.”

“But...how?” Turning back, Tern saw that Discord had vanished, taking any hope of a clear explanation with him. While he stood there with his jaw open, the mare tugged on his mane and dragged him over to the desk.

“I was sent here to help you write. And I look like you because I am more or less you. Try not to think too hard about it. Now, what’s your problem?”

“Well,” began Tern, still unsettled by the doppelganger staring at him. “I can’t seem to write anything interesting enough for anypony else to bother reading. I’ve learned my grammar and style, even if I’m not a master, and I know the elements of a story. I guess I just can’t make it fun enough for ponies to want to read.”

“Well, time to get creative. You’re going to write an entirely new genre before Monday, and the other writers will love it.”

“Ok, well what would that be, and what do I need to do for it?” Tern started furiously scribbling down notes as Windy began to lecture him.

“Well, you need two characters, one male and one female, they need to meet each other in at least a mildly believable fashion, the situation becomes emotionally charged, and then they engage in pre-coital activites, and likely coitius to follow.”

Tern paused to spit out his quill. “Wait, what!?”

“Granted, some writers use two male characters, some two female, some more than two, and some really twisted fellows incorporate things like plants, inanimate objects, other species, and crazy crap like that.”

“I don’t even…”

“Ok, let me put that in laymare’s terms for you. Stallion meets mare. They fuck. Now you write it.”

“Seriously?”

Windy threw several sheets of blank paper onto the desk and nudged the inkwell closer. “Deadly serious. Now get started.”

Dozens of balled up rejections in the trash can later, and Tern was stained fetlock deep in the sepia of ink. The sky had long since darkened and still he was sitting at the desk, writing things that he would normally be ashamed to imagine. Three more strokes, and he spat out the quill, rubbing the ache that had set deep into his face and chin. He hadn’t written so much since the last time he’d saved a research paper for the last minute.

“Ok, it’s done...finally. Have a look.” Tern leaned back to let Windy get to the half-dozen pages on the desk, covered in fine, spidery writing. She snatched them up, and perused their contents.

“Hmmm….mmm..mmm-mmmm...no. This just isn’t going to work. Rutting on the floor of a coal mine just isn’t something that ponies would find exciting to read. You’re getting better, but you’ve still got a ways to go.”

“Well what could I have done better on that? I thought it was pretty hot…” Tern glanced down with embarrassment.

“Well you’re studying weather engineering at a college that’s almost all male. And the few mares that actually go to the Stormvale School of Science and Engineering are all in the bioengineering department. You’re so desperate that you’d get off to anything. Don’t even try to lie to me -- I know you. Ok, so to get a little better, think about the setting. A mine floor is rough and uneven, not something that I’d like to picture myself getting some on, and the dust in the air? Forget it. There is an element of excitement because they’d both be sweaty from hard labor, but they’re also both probably already tired, so there wouldn’t be that much tension. That part where their helmet lamps go out is kinky, but how are they going to find their way out afterwards? Most readers won’t care, I’ll give you that, but for a few that will just ruin it.”

Tern rubbed his face with a hoof. “How about we discuss that over dinner. I’ve been sitting here writing for the last four hours, and I haven’t gotten dinner yet. Neither have you, and I won’t stand to let a guest of mine go hungry. Can I get you something to eat?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

Dinner turned into some leftover salad that was lurking in the refrigerator, but enough ranch dressing made it palatable enough for the odd couple to eat without complaint. “So, Windy...just who are you exactly...and how did you get the same cutie mark as me? I know duplicates can happen, but I’m studying a relatively unique field. If yours means what I think it does, I don’t know a lot of mares who are extreme distance fliers.”

She finished chewing and answered brightly, “Because I am you, you idiot. Weren't you listening earlier?”

“But how does that make sense?”

Windy shrugged, “Hay if I know. I was sitting at home looking forward to a relaxing weekend when Discord himself comes barging in and tells me that he needs my help, and my help specifically with a matter of extreme urgency, that somepony really needs my help to write a story. I get left at a door that looks just like my own, except I don’t have my keys with me, so I knock. When you opened the door, I figured out pretty quick what he put me up to, and how I think you should deal with it.”

“But...you know things that I don’t and act in ways that are not congruent with who I am. If you’re me, why would you come tell me to write something so...exotic?”

“We’re not all that different...it just means you have a perverted side you are good at hiding from everypony, including yourself. The fact that you willingly went along and wrote porn for the last few hours only confirms this.” Windy giggled as Tern blushed.

Ouch...she’s got me. “Well...that’s...lets just forget that for now. You know this suggests that Discord pulled you from a parallel universe! Don’t you know what this could mean?”

“Meh, leave it for the physics ponies. That’s not your field of study, and it’s not why I’m here. Focus, Tern. We’re trying to write a better story. Better put on some coffee, because at the rate you’re going, we’ll be in for a very long night.”

The coffee machine was such a well-used device that it had its own stand in the kitchen. With skill born of much practice and care, Tern loaded it for bear. “Ok, I’ve got a question though. You said you were here to help me, right? Well all you’ve done is tell me how messed up my stuff is. I already knew that on my own. What are you going to do to teach me better writing?”

“Oh that’s easy.” Mistry walked up to Tern, straying closer until he could feel her breath on his neck. “I’ll show you.”

“Oh, don’t stop now! You’re almost there!”

“Mmm-mrmmm-mmm!”

“Come on you big colt! This is all you! Finish it up and make this mare happy!”

“Ermmm-mrhrmm!”

“YES! Ah…..”

Tern spat out the quill, panting. The last few words of his fourth try since dinner were still drying onto the paper. He stretched his jaw, and picked up the paper to give it to Windy. She was sitting in the chair in the corner, still chuckling to herself. “Did that help you at all?”

“I really don’t want to talk about it. Anyways, here, have a read.” He scooched out of the way to make room for her to read the next story. Oh what time is it...two in the morning? Gosh this just isn’t going to work. “Hey Windy? I really think I’ve had enough for one night. I’m gonna go lay down. My room is down the hall, you can have my bed. I’m just gonna sleep on the sofa.

The only reply was an ‘mhmm’ from Windy as she kept reading with them same focused intensity she bore down on each manuscript with. It was just chilly enough of an evening to merit getting a blanket out of the hall closet, and there was a white microfiber blanket he’d gotten as a Christmas gift that he’d been meaning to try out. Ooh. It’s every bit as soft as I remember. Plunking himself down on the sofa, Tern threw the blanket over his body and closed his eyes, shutting out the meager light from the desk lamp.

Wow. What a day. At least I didn’t scream at the club president, and I didn’t go out and spend money on booze. And my prayer was answered...by Discord of all beings. I didn’t exactly get what I wanted, but considering the nature of the request and who answered, I’m lucky I didn’t end up living some kind of horrible experience that I could later use as something exciting to write about. The flutter of wings interrupted Tern’s thoughts, and Windy landed on the sofa, looking at Tern.

“Ugh. I thought I told you I was going to sleep. What did I mess up on this one?”

“Actually, I thought it was pretty good. I really enjoyed reading it. Really enjoyed it. You’ve got just one more problem though. You’re writing about something you haven’t completely explored.”

“Well that’s cute. Talk to me in five years if I manage to find a good mare and get married.” Tern closed his eyes and felt the pull of sleep overtake him again, until the pull of a foreleg around his neck drew him back out of it.

“Well...you don’t really have that long to write a good story, now do you? So I figured we’d just figure out a few of the finer points of that story.”

Long rays of sunlight stretched out just far enough to reach those closed eyelids of the sleeping stallion, straining his eyes as the headache settled in. Urgh, I know that’s not going to be the last time I have a late night over coffee...but I really need to start drinking some water before bed. So damn dehydrating. Wait, why am I on the sofa?

It was one of those late weekend morning tug of wars between a desperate need to pee, a very dry throat and an urge to finish catching up on all the sleep lost during the week. Eventually the former won out, and Tern went to sit up. Wow, the pull from the sofa seems to be extra strong this morning. Why do I have so many things that are white anyways? Seems like some kind of narcissism that everything I own is in my coat color.

Trying to find what exactly what holding him down was difficult, between the the white sofa, white blanket, and white coat, but after just a bit of squirming, Tern found the problem. A foreleg, wrapped around his midsection. A very sleepy feminine moan emanated from under the blanket, and leg tightened to drag Tern back down onto the sofa and into an embrace. Windy nuzzled her face deeper into his mane, while Tern held as still as possible, trying to think of a way out of his current situation.

As he grew more and more awake, it became all too apparent what had happened. The dankness of sweat and...other bodily fluids rubbed his coat, and the odour was nearly overpowering. The worst part about not being drunk the night before was that he could very clearly recall exactly what they did, and there was no question that he consented to it. Windy was still asleep, but if she woke up with Tern still in her clutches, there was very little doubt in his mind of what would happen. If he were up, she’d be short an excuse to do something stupid.

Slipping out of her clutches was much easier than expected; and the mare slumbered on as Tern draped the blanket over her. Not wanting to start a shower or anything else that might wake her up, the only option was to go finish up the story.

Sweeping his eyes across the paper, Tern noticed several things that were just too ridiculous to happen, and tweaked where limbs were placed, and what exclamations were uttered. Much the same were the areas that were underdeveloped, and he knew all too well now what needed to be written. It was too embarrassing to make them as perfect as he could; the memories were far too fresh in his mind. After a few more minutes of touching up, the story was complete: hot enough to turn anypony on, and not so farfetched as to drive a logical reader away.

For what seemed like the thousandth time in the last twenty-four hours, Tern drew out more fresh paper and a new quill. This time though, he was determined that what he would have in hoof would be a finished, polished draft that would be interesting to read. Faster and faster he wrote, taking only the care not to slip and smear the words. When half an hour had gone by, the story was finished -- seven pages oozing with questionable intent. Gently, Tern let the quill go from his teeth to rest on the desk. He gave a firm nod, and then yelped as forelegs seized him from behind and wrapped him into a hug.

“Well well...I think your story is plenty good enough now. After all...it was apparently hot enough that you wanted to get up and work on it instead of play with me for a little bit longer?”

“Well I uhh...ermm…ah….”

“Just teasing you big colt.” She pulled him a little closer, causing the young stallion to squirm. “Aww...look at you! Who would of thought you’d still be squeamish about getting touched after last night?”

“Look...Windy. I don’t really know a tactful way to put this, but I wasn’t exactly planning on getting into anything that serious--”

“You mean bucking a mare on your own sofa a few hours after meeting her?”

“...yes. That’s exactly what I meant. All I really wanted was a story that I could turn into the writing club that would actually get read.”

“Well, you have that now, and we had a great night on the side. What more could you possibly ask for?”

“...I don’t know. Nevermind. Look, I’m gonna make us breakfast, shower, re-draft my old story, and take them both to the copiers. When did you need to get back to your own...universe?”

“The end of the weekend. Go get your stuff turned in, I’m sure I can keep myself entertained until you can get back.” Oh Celestia save me…

Revising the story, taking a shower, scarfing down a few slices of bread, and staying calm were all accomplished while avoiding Windy as well as anypony could avoid a mare who was staying in the same tiny apartment. That wasn’t to say that he could stop thinking about her though. Every time she made some noise or walked by, it was all he could do to focus harder on his work. When the revised version of ‘Little Mares’ was all done, Tern hurriedly grabbed his bit pouch and left to hit up the copy machine on campus.

Flying to campus was the quickest way there, and exactly why Tern decided to walk. It garnered more than a few odd stares, after all, nopony expected a young stallion to do anything other than fly. A slow trot ensured a later return to his apartment, and more time to think. So I just got laid by...myself? I want to say this is no different from playing with myself, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t the same. Certainly didn’t feel the same...that’s just disgusting to think about. And she wants to do it again when I get home.

Even on Saturday, the library was still open, and for just a few silver pieces, he was able to get fifteen copies of each story -- and for just a few more coins, stick them in the mail for everypony else in the club. The club president had wanted to read over the stories first, but Tern figured it would save everypony some time if he just sent them all off right away. Thanks to the new unicorn-installed mailing system, those envelopes would be teleported to their destinations mere seconds after being placed in the mail bin.

Having slept in really made the day melt away, and by the time Tern arrived back at his doorstep, it was five in the evening. Damn, the one time I actually want the weekend to go by fast…

Once inside the door, the sound of glassware echoed off the walls. Tern hurried to shut the door and ran into the kitchen. Inside, Windy was mixing the contents of several glass bottles into two cups on the counter, humming to herself as she worked.

“Where did you get all that booze?”

“Oh, I found a frequent buyers card and a gift card in your closet, right where I keep mine! I figured we should celebrate!” Misty took one of the glasses, swirling with brown liquid, and held it out for Tern. He took it cautiously.

“Celebrate what, exactly?”

“Uhm, your impending success in the tiny pond that is your readers?”

“Heh, we’ll see about that.” Tern gave the glass a taste, and was delighted to find that Windy also knew how to make a Manehatten Iced Tea. “This is strong stuff.”

“But it’s the good stuff! And I wanted us to have fun together, now that you don’t have anything important to do!”

“Right…” Ohgoshohgoshogosh--

“Since we have all evening to ourselves...I figured we could...you know, work on...brainstorming for your next story.”

Ok Tern, time to think fast. She’s coming around with those bedroom eyes. This is not good. NOT GOOD! Ok stay calm...if she’s me except that she’s a mare...I know what to do...but can I really fool myself?

“You know what, Windy, there is nothing I’d like to do more.”

Her eyes seemed to sparkle at those words. “Really Tern?”

“Oh yes, but let’s make it fun. Let’s start the night off with a bang. Drink it, motherbucker!” Wrapping his fetlock around the glass, Tern raised it to toast her. Now if she really is me, she’ll know what to do next. In unison, they grounded their glasses to the counter, and tipped them back. Oh good, this just might work.

The funny thing about a Manehatten Iced Tea was that if a pony mixed it just right...it would look and taste almost like tea, despite having a solid two ounces of liquor in it. Yes! She’s drinking it! Two down...four or five more to go. Two more swallows and the glass was empty, and Tern sprang into action. Seizing the nearest two bottles, he started to pour into his own glass. One...two...three...four...switch! One…two...three...four...done! While he was pouring soda into his glass, Windy finished hers, and slammed it back down on the table. She stopped to look for a moment, and then grinned.

“You weren’t kidding when you said fun. Are you going to let me have another?”

“Pass me your glass there, and you can have some more for sure!”

Windy proffered her glass and Tern was more than happy to oblige. He made sure to hold each bottle to just a little past the count, hoping she was already too buzzed to notice the difference in taste. Giving the glass back to her, he put on the most friendly smile he could.

“And don’t worry about having too much. What’s mine is yours.”

“Aww, thanks!”

“Well, you’re not going anywhere tonight, so no reason not to, right?”

“Sure isn’t! But what are you waiting for?” Windy seized Tern by the fetlock, and dragged him back into the living room. She shoved him down onto the sofa, and then jumped to land next to him, a hungry look in her eyes. Leaning over to wrap her forelegs around his neck, she began to press him back against the backrest. Tern felt himself getting excited, and knew he had to stop this now, before he didn’t have the willpower to push Windy away.

Slowly sitting all the way back up, he lifted her forelegs off, eliciting a whine from the mare. She tried to pull him back down, but Tern put on his best seductive smile and held her off. “Hey, I got an idea. How about I go make us one more, so we don’t have to get up?”

Windy giggled and nodded, and Tern rushed back into the kitchen, grateful for the space. Knowing that he didn’t have much time, the panting pegasus reached into the cupboard for a bottle of cherry-red drink mix and two tall glasses, and into the liquor cabinet for a clear glass bottle. He filled one glass a third of the way from the bottle, and the other from the sink. Both were topped off with the mix, fizzing as they settled. Putting them on a plate, and the plate on his back, Tern took them back into the living room.

Awaiting him on the sofa, Windy was splayed out on her stomach, flicking her tail back and forth. Tern felt his body give a lurch at the sight, but he held his composure long enough to set the drinks on the table. Before she could pick one, he grabbed the glass with the alcohol in it and pressed it into her forehooves. She looked at Tern expectantly, who picked up his own glass, and began to swallow.

The taste was sickly sweet -- it had to be to cover the fact that he’d used everclear instead of vodka. Still, Tern held his eyes open to watch as he drank, ensuring that Windy was doing the same. She noticed his stare, and stopped for long enough to lick her lips at him before going to finish it off. Oh gosh...I really hope she’s a lightweight.

Still on the bottom hoof of the glass, Tern was trying valiantly to finish his drink off. The mix was made to be diluted ten times over, and it felt worse than drinking liquid candy. Through the haze of red in his mouth and mind, he felt something take hold of the glass and wrench it away from his mouth. He had just long enough to gasp for air before she shoved him down on the couch and planted her mouth on top of his.

Cherry was all he could taste, and the feeling of her tongue on his and her weight on his torso was fantastic. And why did I want this to end anyways? He wrapped his forelegs around her back and pulled her closer, and she pressed against him tighter. Together they kissed, Tern rubbing Windy’s neck and wings with a foreleg. The seconds turned into minutes, and Windy began to move more sluggishly. Still, he continued to hold her close until she lay still in his grasp. Reluctantly, Tern sat up and lay Windy back down. She was drooling, but still breathing regularly. Her lips still looked so inviting, and it would be too easy to lick them clean...or mabye just hold her a little longer...NO!

“Phew.” Giving one last longing look at her backside, Tern draped the blanket over her, and shifted the pillow so her head was resting against it. Everything else taken care of, Tern was about to head back to his room and sleep off the rest of the afternoon, when the *snap* of a letter appearing on his desk echoed through the apartment. Wearily, he walked over and picked up the letter, surprised to find it was from Quill Stubb. Inside was a neatly inked letter, which Tern read with a growing frown.

Tern,

I don’t know what you were thinking, but you must have been out of your mind. Do you think my club is some kind gang of sluts and pervs that you can hawk your porn to? I would have expected you’d at least have the good sense to send your story to me before you sent it out, but now there is no way I can save you face with everypony else. The only reason I’m not kicking you out right now is because...as reluctant as I am to tell you this...they actually enjoyed it. That being said, don’t you dare do that again. If you don’t want to write actual literature, I suggest you go elsewhere.

-Quill Stubb

Tern balled up the letter and threw it in the trash. Wait...they actually liked it? But…Quill Stubb was right, it is disgusting. But they actually read it! And enjoyed it!

As Tern sat and argued with himself, a crash shook the apartment, sending him from the convoluted arguments within and toward the living room. Windy was gone from the sofa, and Discord was dusting off his hoof off with a claw.

“What are you doing here? And where is Windy?”

“Oh I merely sent her back to her own home. After all, she did everything I wanted, and so I gave her everything she wanted.”

“What she wanted?! I thought you brought her here to help me with my writing.” Tern grit his teeth and forced himself to remain still.

“Well yes.” Discord rubbed his chin for a moment. “But don’t stop there, I see you want to ask me a question, and it’s biting you like ants under your tail.”

“What is the meaning of all of this?”

“You haven’t figured out for yourself yet? Tsk tsk. And here I took you for a pony more clever than that.”

“What did she ask for?!”

“That’s more like it, a question specific and simple enough for you to understand. That I can do for you. She asked me for a good weekend, something fun. And I gave her that, on one condition.”

“And what would that have been?”

“Well that she make somepony else’s weekend chaotic for me! And you volunteered!”

“But you told me you’d send me somepony to help me write!”

“Oh don’t take me for a liar, I did exactly that. Part of writing is knowing yourself before you start. I didn’t think you’d get to know yourself quite so literally, but it was most amusing!”

“I learned nothing from her! She is overbearing, drinks too much, and quite the pervert.”

“Yes, you are.”

Wait, what?!

“Were I you, I’d consider learning a little from all of this. Ta-ta, farewell, and don’t stick your head in sewage pipes!” Discord vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving Tern alone in his apartment once more.

Author's Note

Hope this made you laugh just a little. But seriously, I wrote this because I was that pissed about almost every clop story out there getting attention by virtue of the 'mature' and 'sex' tags, regardless of skill or content. This project originally started a sunshine and butterflies story, tagged as a clopfic just to troll people, but it eventually became a whole story.

Oh, and I'm still a proud virgin. Sorry Tern...

Much thanks to my Tavor-212 and Mason for their editing prowess. It's only thanks to selfless men like them that my stories are actually readable, rather than a pile of mush.