A Princess and Princess Showby Malus DomesticaChapters1) FREE MONEY2) FREE REAL ESTATE3) FREE ENTERTAINMENT1) FREE MONEYPatrick flipped through his wallet, pushing out a few five dollar bills. “Alright, twenty.” He placed the money onto the artist’s table, then picked up the magnet. “Thanks, man. Are you new? Haven’t seen you online.” “Yes, new,” the older gentleman laughed. “Only started a few months ago.” Patrick laughed, holding out a fist, “Right on, Wizard.” As Patrick turned to leave, the merchant stood up. “Sorry, but before you go, do you have any interest in--” “Sorry no,” Patrick said, holding up his hands. “I’ve read enough Japanese comics to know what’s coming. Besides, I’m on a budget.” “No, seriously,” Wizard said. “Its on me.” Patrick blinked at him owlishly. “The heck?” The merchant slapped Patrick’s twenty back onto the table. “I’ll even give your money back!” “What are you even on man?” Patrick asked. “What is up with you?” “Forty!” Patrick dropped the magnet back onto the table. “... You know what, keep it. I’m pretty sure you need the money.” The merchant’s eyes bulged, mouth gaping in astonishment. “I-- you-- the nerve!” He stood up, slamming his hands onto the table. “How dare you!” A small crowd started to gather, leaving Patrick flailing his arms in wide eyed confusion. “Do you need a doctor?” The vendor raised his hands, sparks coming off his fingers. “Skidaddle skadoodle, your dick is now a noodle!” “Oh shi--” Patrick’s hands went shooting over his crotch. Then there was a pop, and nothing was left besides a bit of smoke. A shocked silence shot across the vendor hall, surrounded by gaping mouths and frozen muscles. The moment was broken by a guy in a Berry Punch cosplay sliding into the crowd on his knees and slamming a fistful of dollars onto the table. “Take me.” The vendor hall exploded in flying dollar bills. Patrick woke up to a mouthful of grass, which he disgustedly spit out. He rolled onto his back, groaning. “Oh no, I’m in an isekai plot.” He stuck his hands over his face. “What is my life.” He sat up and looked around. Where was he anyways? The trees still looked like trees, though the colors didn’t look right for some reason. He stuck his hand into a beam of sunlight and frowned as the shadow he casted shaded differently. Patrick shook his head and started to walk before freezing at the sound of crunching wood. A timberwolf slunk out from the forest shadows, walking towards him. “Oh shit,” he blurted, then slapped his hands over his mouth, cursing his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding still as hard as he could and tensing in anticipating. Nothing happened. He slowly opened his eyes, and saw the wolf walk through him. On closer inspection, Patrick found out that his entire body, clothes and all, was flickering, like someone moving an opacity filter. He hopped gently, and was surprised to see himself almost float. What he saw suddenly caught up to him. “..This isn’t isekai. I’m in a fucking Displaced fic.” He ‘solidified’ and crashed into the grass. He winced, but the timberwolf kept walking away. It was as if he didn’t exist. Oh well, might as well look for ponies. This was probably the Everfree, what else was he gonna do besides look at trees? He tensed, pulling inwards, and grinned as he started fading again. He jumped, shooting through branches and way into the sky. He spun slowly, smiling when he saw the tips of a windmill. Then he almost sank through the ground before his shock caused whatever strange magic stuck on him ejected him back up. He took a few minutes wincing and catching his breath before fading slightly to sprint through the trees. It took almost an hour to reach Ponyville at a full sprint, but Patrick was surprised that he didn’t feel tired at all. Then again, he was kinda a ghost thing, and he couldn’t remember many ghosts that got tired. And finally, he could see the thatch houses of the town. Sweet. He half hopped, and floated over into the town streets, bouncing through oblivious ponies. “Hmm. Where to go?” He bobbed in the middle of the street, tapping his chin. He didn’t exactly want to be here, but outside of moping or sinking into the planet, there wasn’t much else. Might as well try to find some enjoyment out of it. He turned on his feet, moving towards Twilight’s castle, then paused. Did he even need food? He spun again and wandered over to Sugarcube Corner. Patrick stepped up to the front door and pushed it open reflexively. To his surprise, his hand seemed to briefly solidify enough to actually contact the door. He poked his head inside, glancing at the bell, and called out, “Sorry!” Naturally, nobody responded. When Patrick looked at the counter though, he saw the pony at the counter, Carrot Cake, glance up at the door, then apparently dismissed the half-open door. “Huh.” Patrick stepped up to the register, looking around. He found a plate, a quill, and a notepad. He scribbled: ‘When paper face up, place one muffin on plate, then flip over.’ He replaced the quill, then placed the plate on the side of the display case. A few minutes later, Carrot Cake saw the note, made a quiet humming noise, then grabbed a random muffin and placed it on the plate, with the note face down. Patrick grabbed the muffin cautiously, and with no response from Carrot regarding the muffin that probably just disappeared to him, bit down into it with gusto. Patrick sat onto a table and grinned. “Sweet. Free food.” He raised his head when he saw Pinkie Pie pronk out of a kitchen, a tray balanced perfectly on her back. “How the hell does that stick there?” he wondered. His eyes slowly slid behind her, at her bouncing tail. “Um.” Strangely, his libido didn’t respond, despite clearly remembering his own Derpibooru browsing history. Patrick reached into his pants and--”Oh you have got to be shitting me,” --pulled out a noodle dildo. “Now what am I gonna do?” He stared blankly off into the distance, slowly chewing. He probably didn’t even need food anymore, but it was a momentary distraction. “Might as well play with toys or something.” 2) FREE REAL ESTATEFirst: Obtain measurements. Patrick sat through a train ride and wandered around Canterlot Castle until he found a mannequin (ponyquin?) with Celestia’s and Luna’s measurements. To transport it? Patrick tried holding them under each arm, but their weight sent him horribly off balance if he tried to fly too quickly, and keeping low made him constantly run into oblivious ponies. In the end he found himself going back on the train with the mannequins trapped over his legs. Second: Dressmaker. Obviously, there was only one up to the task. Though to be fair, Rarity was also the only pony he knew where to find. Patrick found that he couldn’t really phase anything other than himself, so he had to manhandle to two giant figures out of the train and into Carousel Boutique. Patrick stuck the mannequins into the lobby, and wrote up a ‘To Do List’ on a notepad he found, for whenever Rarity felt bored or whatever. He wasn’t exactly in a rush. He sat on a couch inside the lobby, watching Rarity sometimes come in to do her thing. Sometimes, there was a customer who walked in to place an order. Patrick drank a cup of tea. “Huh, pretty good.” Afterwards he washed it. When he went back, he noticed a few scraps of paper with dress designs draw on them. Hey, that’s Celestia. Right on.” He leaned back, watching Rarity add little flairs from time to time. Patrick glanced at a clock, frowned, then looked back. “I know I’m mostly just having fun, but you really shouldn’t lose sleep over this.” The clocked ticked ever further away from midnight, but Rarity kept sketching designs. “Alright, dress horse, I’m cutting you off right there.” He stepped up to her, grabbing the quill out of her magic and holding it down against the table, and turning off the lamp with his other hand. Then he pushed her head away from the table towards the stairs, guiding her awkwardly to her bedroom. A few times she turned her head to look back, but Patrick held her firm, and pushed her onwards. Once on the second floor, Rarity sighed and went forwards on her own, wincing when she almost stumbled. “Guess I really do need the sleep.” Patrick still held her to his leg (her head was just under his waist), and supported her to the bathroom. He paused at the doorway, but stopped before he turned away. “Wait a minute, who would even care?” He followed Rarity in, made sure she didn’t fall over, then helped her scrub her body down, dry off, and prepare for bed. After making sure Rarity didn’t fall over onto the floor, he floated back into the lobby. Half an hour passed. “Shit, I don’t think I need to sleep. Now what?” He ended up just cuddling Rarity for the night. Patrick sipped a smoothie from behind a newspaper. He looked up when he heard the ring of the Boutique’s bell. “Welcome home,” he called out, putting down the paper and drink and shuffling to the kitchen. He whistled as he pulled out ingredients from the fridge and pantry, and putting together a simple meal over the stove. Behind him, Rarity settled onto the seat of her sewing table. She had no pressing orders, and was finishing up the dresses he had ‘ordered.’ He put the steamed platter beside her. “Thanks, I couldn’t have done this without you.” Rarity absentmindedly levitated a fork to eat with. She didn’t answer. No one did. There were other ways to express his appreciation though. He didn’t spend days crouched inside the Lotus sisters’ spa for nothing. So he crouched behind her, and made a good attempt at kneading her tired back. He smiled when her shoulders drooped in relaxation. After a few weeks of on and off work, Rarity finally finished the dresses he ‘commissioned.’ Patrick had absolutely no idea what constituted fashion on this planet, but he figured that he should trust Rarity’s judgement on this. He slid the folded dresses into a paper bag. Rarity was cleaning up the sewing table behind him. Patrick stood up, about to move towards the door, and stopped. He looked back, frowning. Somehow, he felt like he was missing something. Rarity did most of the work, he just sat off to the side mooching off her free time. Massages were nice, but she could have spent that time with friends instead of on a ghost she couldn’t even see. However, whenever Rarity was out of the house, Patrick had experimented with how much he could influence the world. Some of the results of his tests passed through his mind. He rested the bag on the side of the lobby, and fished out a paper pad and a pencil. There were other ways he could express his appreciation. Rarity walked into the bathroom, her hooves dragging. She hummed slightly incoherently as she checked her shampoo and soap bottles were still full. She turned at sat upon her toilet seat, and caught notice of a small slip of paper falling to the ground. Why, it would be interesting if Celestia came by to thank her ... Patrick quietly closed the door behind him. 3) FREE ENTERTAINMENTCelestia put her .... diary? Yes, her diary, away. She had truly missed Luna, and had not expressed it as often as she should. She had prepared a special surprise for her sister weeks before, and it had finally came back to her. She glanced at the bag sitting besides her bed. Her horn glowed, and lifted her commissioned dress out of the bag. Luna seemed a little listless recently. Time to fix that. Luna sat on the balcony of her bedroom, staring at the lights of Canterlot below her night sky. The knowledge that more ponies than ever roamed beneath her moon, yet she still couldn’t suppress the fear that everypony had turned to cursing her night the moment she wasn’t looking. She sighed and turned away. She had neglected paperwork once more to quiet her doubt. She walked back to her desk, her head low. She levitated her quill from where it had slid behind her table and started pushing through stacks of forms and requests. Luna glanced at at scrap of paper taped to the table, then closed her eyes and sighed. Her ears flicked back at the sound of hoofsteps. “What is it, Celestia--” Luna was cut off by one feather soft white wing caressing her shoulder. “Do you know I love you, dear sister?” “Yes, of course, you’ve only said it so many times.” “But I’ve only said it. I never showed you how much I appreciate you being here with me.” “What are you--” Luna turned around and froze. Celestia stood before her, smiling from within a maid’s outfit. Celestia’s eyes flickered. “Tonight, I will show you exactly how deep my love goes. My service is all for you.” Celestia’s wing pulled Luna off the seat cushion and over to her bed. To Luna’s own surprise, she found herself heating up. Luna was pushed onto her back. “Oh my,” she whispered. “Relax,” Celestia said. “All you need to do is to lean back--” Celestia lowered her head, and breathed out softly, making Luna squirm, “--and enjoy.” Celestia’s tongue darted out and licked away at the beading moisture on Luna’s lower lips. Luna clamped her hooves over her muzzle, her face blushing red. “This-- you’ve never done this before!” she gasped out. Celestia gave Luna’s vagina a gentle kiss. “And that was a mistake I greatly regret, and am eager to rectify.” Fresh nectar flowed out of Luna’s marehood, and Celestia happily lapped it up. Celestia raised her hooves to pull Luna in closer. Luna squeaked loudly, making Celestia pause. “Are you alright sister?” “Please, more,” Luna gasped out, her cheeks aflame. Celestia smiled. “As you wish.” Her tongue swirled inside Luna’s warm tunnel, rubbing and sucking. Her teeth would randomly flick against Luna’s clit, making her sister’s entire body tense and twist. Within a few moments, Luna started gasping out. “Celly, soon--!” Celestia increased the fervor of her ministrations and pretty soon Luna’s muscles locked as ecstasy flowed through her. Celestia smiled as her sister’s fluids coated her muzzle, then slowly crawled over Luna’s body, kissing all the way. She stopped over Luna’s breathless gaze, and lowered her lips over Luna’s own. ............... ....... ... Patrick stood sat on the other side of the bed, staring at the notepad in his hands. “Wow I do not know how to write sexy dialogue.” He looked over his shoulder to see the Sisters still going at it. “Not gonna stop?” Luna seemed to clutch Celestia’s torso even harder, even as the Solar Princess raised her hips and started grinding her own nether lips against Luna’s. “Alrighty then,” Patrick said, walking around the bed and crouching behind the pair. “Never really looked at real horse puss for real before.” He gently prodded it, absently noting the sisters moaning in response. He poked his finger into Luna’s vagina, then Celestia’s. “Hmm. Luna’s really is cooler, though not by much.” He rubbed his fingers along the sides. “Both still feel quite similar, though I don’t know if that’s a genetic thing.” Next, he pushed a hand in between them and cupped Celestia’s breasts. They were less pronounced than the average human’s, though supposedly humans are the only creature to have permanently engorged ones anyways. He stared blankly at the wall. “Nope, let’s not go to that train of thought.” Patrick looked up, and it appeared that the sisters had finally exhausted themselves, and were now simply curled up, breathing heavily, and sharing spit. Patrick looked around the room. “Not having a libido is weird.” He looked back at the bed. “Still cute though.” He crawled onto the bed behind Celestia, and hugged her back. After a moment he crawled over them to cuddle Luna, because he was starting to seriously sweat. “What are you, a furnace?” he grumbled. Under the covers, Luna exuded a cool softness not dissimilar to a freshly made bed, a gentle chill that didn’t start robbing bodyheat from one’s bones. The moon had come and gone. Celestia had offered to take up some of Luna’s paperwork, acting normally as if the lace covered dress on the floor wasn’t even there. Luna went back to bed with a smile, with a snoring Patrick unnoticed still on her back. He eventually woke up when Luna rolled onto his face, leaving him attempting to breath horse mane. At first he thought he woke up in space for some reason, then he pushed Luna off his face and managed to get air into his lungs. After thoroughly borrowing Luna’s bathroom, he wandered over to the balcony and stared. He stayed a step away since the low railing almost made him fell over. “Well, I confirmed that neither of them can notice me, I can basically get any food I want with a carefully written note.” Patrick scratched his nose. “Now what?” He looked at the stack of notepads piled inside his pilfered shopping bag. “I can give suggestions and entire prepared scripts,” he mused. “But most of them are preplanned things. Can’t exactly mess with things on a whim.” He looked down at the streets below, filled with colorful dots wandering around like very coordinated and friendly ants. Kinda like NPCs. “Huh. I wonder if I can make my own player character to control around.” In short order, he had drew up a dpad, some large buttons, and another sheet explaining what to do upon seeing it. Patrick didn’t really feel like trying to wander off around the castle when there was a perfectly fine alicorn besides him, so he practiced his (admittedly somewhat mediocre) drawing skills out of a lack things to do. He was nomming on a piece of toast he ordered by taping the request outside Luna’s doors when he heard a quiet pop, and a curious “Hmm,” from an accented voice. Patrick turned around and felt his blood freeze when Discord floated over. Luna was still sleeping off her night time excitement, and didn’t react all to Discord poking her face. Crap, Patrick thought. He tested his nonexistence against alicorns, but he completey forgot about Discord, who was up there in power level but on a completely different axis. Can he even find me. Picking up his control drawings, he carefully edged towards Luna’s bed. “H-hello?” he whispered. Discord gave no reaction, but Patrick saw his ear twitch almost subconsciously. Almost five seconds later, Discord snapped his eyes to a few feet behind him. “S-”hit, he thought, shuffling towards Luna even faster. Once there, he shoved Luna roughly off the bed, her horn bonking off a desk in his haste. “Bwah?” she gasped out through bloodshot eyes. Eyes that starred somewhat uncomprehending at the pieces of paper held in front of her. Discord looked at her collapsed form in confusion, then yelped as Luna sleepily fired a beam of magic vaguely in his direction. Patrick dragged Luna’s surprisingly heavy form into a standing position, hopped onto her back, then held his thumbs over a d-pad direction and another button. “Moonbutt, what are you--” Luna abruptly threw herself over the balcony, wings spread and yawning. “AARARGGH,” Patrick contributed intelligently, mashing the arrow keys to dodge a tower Luna seemed too sleep deprived to notice. Discord’s paw appeared over Patrick’s head out of nowhere. “There seems to be Nothing here. Curious.” His talon closed together. All Patrick could think of was his regret in not writing down a button mapped to teleportation. Patrick faceplanted onto a carpeted floor. He peeled his face off, groaning, and rolled onto his back. He squinted at the fluorescent lights. Looks like the convention again. “Did anyone get the number of that truck,” he muttered, sitting up, them fell speechless. The vendor hall was empty, saved for a confused old man covered in fistfuls of cash. Patrick smacked him over the held with a folding chair.
1) FREE MONEYPatrick flipped through his wallet, pushing out a few five dollar bills. “Alright, twenty.” He placed the money onto the artist’s table, then picked up the magnet. “Thanks, man. Are you new? Haven’t seen you online.” “Yes, new,” the older gentleman laughed. “Only started a few months ago.” Patrick laughed, holding out a fist, “Right on, Wizard.” As Patrick turned to leave, the merchant stood up. “Sorry, but before you go, do you have any interest in--” “Sorry no,” Patrick said, holding up his hands. “I’ve read enough Japanese comics to know what’s coming. Besides, I’m on a budget.” “No, seriously,” Wizard said. “Its on me.” Patrick blinked at him owlishly. “The heck?” The merchant slapped Patrick’s twenty back onto the table. “I’ll even give your money back!” “What are you even on man?” Patrick asked. “What is up with you?” “Forty!” Patrick dropped the magnet back onto the table. “... You know what, keep it. I’m pretty sure you need the money.” The merchant’s eyes bulged, mouth gaping in astonishment. “I-- you-- the nerve!” He stood up, slamming his hands onto the table. “How dare you!” A small crowd started to gather, leaving Patrick flailing his arms in wide eyed confusion. “Do you need a doctor?” The vendor raised his hands, sparks coming off his fingers. “Skidaddle skadoodle, your dick is now a noodle!” “Oh shi--” Patrick’s hands went shooting over his crotch. Then there was a pop, and nothing was left besides a bit of smoke. A shocked silence shot across the vendor hall, surrounded by gaping mouths and frozen muscles. The moment was broken by a guy in a Berry Punch cosplay sliding into the crowd on his knees and slamming a fistful of dollars onto the table. “Take me.” The vendor hall exploded in flying dollar bills. Patrick woke up to a mouthful of grass, which he disgustedly spit out. He rolled onto his back, groaning. “Oh no, I’m in an isekai plot.” He stuck his hands over his face. “What is my life.” He sat up and looked around. Where was he anyways? The trees still looked like trees, though the colors didn’t look right for some reason. He stuck his hand into a beam of sunlight and frowned as the shadow he casted shaded differently. Patrick shook his head and started to walk before freezing at the sound of crunching wood. A timberwolf slunk out from the forest shadows, walking towards him. “Oh shit,” he blurted, then slapped his hands over his mouth, cursing his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding still as hard as he could and tensing in anticipating. Nothing happened. He slowly opened his eyes, and saw the wolf walk through him. On closer inspection, Patrick found out that his entire body, clothes and all, was flickering, like someone moving an opacity filter. He hopped gently, and was surprised to see himself almost float. What he saw suddenly caught up to him. “..This isn’t isekai. I’m in a fucking Displaced fic.” He ‘solidified’ and crashed into the grass. He winced, but the timberwolf kept walking away. It was as if he didn’t exist. Oh well, might as well look for ponies. This was probably the Everfree, what else was he gonna do besides look at trees? He tensed, pulling inwards, and grinned as he started fading again. He jumped, shooting through branches and way into the sky. He spun slowly, smiling when he saw the tips of a windmill. Then he almost sank through the ground before his shock caused whatever strange magic stuck on him ejected him back up. He took a few minutes wincing and catching his breath before fading slightly to sprint through the trees. It took almost an hour to reach Ponyville at a full sprint, but Patrick was surprised that he didn’t feel tired at all. Then again, he was kinda a ghost thing, and he couldn’t remember many ghosts that got tired. And finally, he could see the thatch houses of the town. Sweet. He half hopped, and floated over into the town streets, bouncing through oblivious ponies. “Hmm. Where to go?” He bobbed in the middle of the street, tapping his chin. He didn’t exactly want to be here, but outside of moping or sinking into the planet, there wasn’t much else. Might as well try to find some enjoyment out of it. He turned on his feet, moving towards Twilight’s castle, then paused. Did he even need food? He spun again and wandered over to Sugarcube Corner. Patrick stepped up to the front door and pushed it open reflexively. To his surprise, his hand seemed to briefly solidify enough to actually contact the door. He poked his head inside, glancing at the bell, and called out, “Sorry!” Naturally, nobody responded. When Patrick looked at the counter though, he saw the pony at the counter, Carrot Cake, glance up at the door, then apparently dismissed the half-open door. “Huh.” Patrick stepped up to the register, looking around. He found a plate, a quill, and a notepad. He scribbled: ‘When paper face up, place one muffin on plate, then flip over.’ He replaced the quill, then placed the plate on the side of the display case. A few minutes later, Carrot Cake saw the note, made a quiet humming noise, then grabbed a random muffin and placed it on the plate, with the note face down. Patrick grabbed the muffin cautiously, and with no response from Carrot regarding the muffin that probably just disappeared to him, bit down into it with gusto. Patrick sat onto a table and grinned. “Sweet. Free food.” He raised his head when he saw Pinkie Pie pronk out of a kitchen, a tray balanced perfectly on her back. “How the hell does that stick there?” he wondered. His eyes slowly slid behind her, at her bouncing tail. “Um.” Strangely, his libido didn’t respond, despite clearly remembering his own Derpibooru browsing history. Patrick reached into his pants and--”Oh you have got to be shitting me,” --pulled out a noodle dildo. “Now what am I gonna do?” He stared blankly off into the distance, slowly chewing. He probably didn’t even need food anymore, but it was a momentary distraction. “Might as well play with toys or something.”
2) FREE REAL ESTATEFirst: Obtain measurements. Patrick sat through a train ride and wandered around Canterlot Castle until he found a mannequin (ponyquin?) with Celestia’s and Luna’s measurements. To transport it? Patrick tried holding them under each arm, but their weight sent him horribly off balance if he tried to fly too quickly, and keeping low made him constantly run into oblivious ponies. In the end he found himself going back on the train with the mannequins trapped over his legs. Second: Dressmaker. Obviously, there was only one up to the task. Though to be fair, Rarity was also the only pony he knew where to find. Patrick found that he couldn’t really phase anything other than himself, so he had to manhandle to two giant figures out of the train and into Carousel Boutique. Patrick stuck the mannequins into the lobby, and wrote up a ‘To Do List’ on a notepad he found, for whenever Rarity felt bored or whatever. He wasn’t exactly in a rush. He sat on a couch inside the lobby, watching Rarity sometimes come in to do her thing. Sometimes, there was a customer who walked in to place an order. Patrick drank a cup of tea. “Huh, pretty good.” Afterwards he washed it. When he went back, he noticed a few scraps of paper with dress designs draw on them. Hey, that’s Celestia. Right on.” He leaned back, watching Rarity add little flairs from time to time. Patrick glanced at a clock, frowned, then looked back. “I know I’m mostly just having fun, but you really shouldn’t lose sleep over this.” The clocked ticked ever further away from midnight, but Rarity kept sketching designs. “Alright, dress horse, I’m cutting you off right there.” He stepped up to her, grabbing the quill out of her magic and holding it down against the table, and turning off the lamp with his other hand. Then he pushed her head away from the table towards the stairs, guiding her awkwardly to her bedroom. A few times she turned her head to look back, but Patrick held her firm, and pushed her onwards. Once on the second floor, Rarity sighed and went forwards on her own, wincing when she almost stumbled. “Guess I really do need the sleep.” Patrick still held her to his leg (her head was just under his waist), and supported her to the bathroom. He paused at the doorway, but stopped before he turned away. “Wait a minute, who would even care?” He followed Rarity in, made sure she didn’t fall over, then helped her scrub her body down, dry off, and prepare for bed. After making sure Rarity didn’t fall over onto the floor, he floated back into the lobby. Half an hour passed. “Shit, I don’t think I need to sleep. Now what?” He ended up just cuddling Rarity for the night. Patrick sipped a smoothie from behind a newspaper. He looked up when he heard the ring of the Boutique’s bell. “Welcome home,” he called out, putting down the paper and drink and shuffling to the kitchen. He whistled as he pulled out ingredients from the fridge and pantry, and putting together a simple meal over the stove. Behind him, Rarity settled onto the seat of her sewing table. She had no pressing orders, and was finishing up the dresses he had ‘ordered.’ He put the steamed platter beside her. “Thanks, I couldn’t have done this without you.” Rarity absentmindedly levitated a fork to eat with. She didn’t answer. No one did. There were other ways to express his appreciation though. He didn’t spend days crouched inside the Lotus sisters’ spa for nothing. So he crouched behind her, and made a good attempt at kneading her tired back. He smiled when her shoulders drooped in relaxation. After a few weeks of on and off work, Rarity finally finished the dresses he ‘commissioned.’ Patrick had absolutely no idea what constituted fashion on this planet, but he figured that he should trust Rarity’s judgement on this. He slid the folded dresses into a paper bag. Rarity was cleaning up the sewing table behind him. Patrick stood up, about to move towards the door, and stopped. He looked back, frowning. Somehow, he felt like he was missing something. Rarity did most of the work, he just sat off to the side mooching off her free time. Massages were nice, but she could have spent that time with friends instead of on a ghost she couldn’t even see. However, whenever Rarity was out of the house, Patrick had experimented with how much he could influence the world. Some of the results of his tests passed through his mind. He rested the bag on the side of the lobby, and fished out a paper pad and a pencil. There were other ways he could express his appreciation. Rarity walked into the bathroom, her hooves dragging. She hummed slightly incoherently as she checked her shampoo and soap bottles were still full. She turned at sat upon her toilet seat, and caught notice of a small slip of paper falling to the ground. Why, it would be interesting if Celestia came by to thank her ... Patrick quietly closed the door behind him.
3) FREE ENTERTAINMENTCelestia put her .... diary? Yes, her diary, away. She had truly missed Luna, and had not expressed it as often as she should. She had prepared a special surprise for her sister weeks before, and it had finally came back to her. She glanced at the bag sitting besides her bed. Her horn glowed, and lifted her commissioned dress out of the bag. Luna seemed a little listless recently. Time to fix that. Luna sat on the balcony of her bedroom, staring at the lights of Canterlot below her night sky. The knowledge that more ponies than ever roamed beneath her moon, yet she still couldn’t suppress the fear that everypony had turned to cursing her night the moment she wasn’t looking. She sighed and turned away. She had neglected paperwork once more to quiet her doubt. She walked back to her desk, her head low. She levitated her quill from where it had slid behind her table and started pushing through stacks of forms and requests. Luna glanced at at scrap of paper taped to the table, then closed her eyes and sighed. Her ears flicked back at the sound of hoofsteps. “What is it, Celestia--” Luna was cut off by one feather soft white wing caressing her shoulder. “Do you know I love you, dear sister?” “Yes, of course, you’ve only said it so many times.” “But I’ve only said it. I never showed you how much I appreciate you being here with me.” “What are you--” Luna turned around and froze. Celestia stood before her, smiling from within a maid’s outfit. Celestia’s eyes flickered. “Tonight, I will show you exactly how deep my love goes. My service is all for you.” Celestia’s wing pulled Luna off the seat cushion and over to her bed. To Luna’s own surprise, she found herself heating up. Luna was pushed onto her back. “Oh my,” she whispered. “Relax,” Celestia said. “All you need to do is to lean back--” Celestia lowered her head, and breathed out softly, making Luna squirm, “--and enjoy.” Celestia’s tongue darted out and licked away at the beading moisture on Luna’s lower lips. Luna clamped her hooves over her muzzle, her face blushing red. “This-- you’ve never done this before!” she gasped out. Celestia gave Luna’s vagina a gentle kiss. “And that was a mistake I greatly regret, and am eager to rectify.” Fresh nectar flowed out of Luna’s marehood, and Celestia happily lapped it up. Celestia raised her hooves to pull Luna in closer. Luna squeaked loudly, making Celestia pause. “Are you alright sister?” “Please, more,” Luna gasped out, her cheeks aflame. Celestia smiled. “As you wish.” Her tongue swirled inside Luna’s warm tunnel, rubbing and sucking. Her teeth would randomly flick against Luna’s clit, making her sister’s entire body tense and twist. Within a few moments, Luna started gasping out. “Celly, soon--!” Celestia increased the fervor of her ministrations and pretty soon Luna’s muscles locked as ecstasy flowed through her. Celestia smiled as her sister’s fluids coated her muzzle, then slowly crawled over Luna’s body, kissing all the way. She stopped over Luna’s breathless gaze, and lowered her lips over Luna’s own. ............... ....... ... Patrick stood sat on the other side of the bed, staring at the notepad in his hands. “Wow I do not know how to write sexy dialogue.” He looked over his shoulder to see the Sisters still going at it. “Not gonna stop?” Luna seemed to clutch Celestia’s torso even harder, even as the Solar Princess raised her hips and started grinding her own nether lips against Luna’s. “Alrighty then,” Patrick said, walking around the bed and crouching behind the pair. “Never really looked at real horse puss for real before.” He gently prodded it, absently noting the sisters moaning in response. He poked his finger into Luna’s vagina, then Celestia’s. “Hmm. Luna’s really is cooler, though not by much.” He rubbed his fingers along the sides. “Both still feel quite similar, though I don’t know if that’s a genetic thing.” Next, he pushed a hand in between them and cupped Celestia’s breasts. They were less pronounced than the average human’s, though supposedly humans are the only creature to have permanently engorged ones anyways. He stared blankly at the wall. “Nope, let’s not go to that train of thought.” Patrick looked up, and it appeared that the sisters had finally exhausted themselves, and were now simply curled up, breathing heavily, and sharing spit. Patrick looked around the room. “Not having a libido is weird.” He looked back at the bed. “Still cute though.” He crawled onto the bed behind Celestia, and hugged her back. After a moment he crawled over them to cuddle Luna, because he was starting to seriously sweat. “What are you, a furnace?” he grumbled. Under the covers, Luna exuded a cool softness not dissimilar to a freshly made bed, a gentle chill that didn’t start robbing bodyheat from one’s bones. The moon had come and gone. Celestia had offered to take up some of Luna’s paperwork, acting normally as if the lace covered dress on the floor wasn’t even there. Luna went back to bed with a smile, with a snoring Patrick unnoticed still on her back. He eventually woke up when Luna rolled onto his face, leaving him attempting to breath horse mane. At first he thought he woke up in space for some reason, then he pushed Luna off his face and managed to get air into his lungs. After thoroughly borrowing Luna’s bathroom, he wandered over to the balcony and stared. He stayed a step away since the low railing almost made him fell over. “Well, I confirmed that neither of them can notice me, I can basically get any food I want with a carefully written note.” Patrick scratched his nose. “Now what?” He looked at the stack of notepads piled inside his pilfered shopping bag. “I can give suggestions and entire prepared scripts,” he mused. “But most of them are preplanned things. Can’t exactly mess with things on a whim.” He looked down at the streets below, filled with colorful dots wandering around like very coordinated and friendly ants. Kinda like NPCs. “Huh. I wonder if I can make my own player character to control around.” In short order, he had drew up a dpad, some large buttons, and another sheet explaining what to do upon seeing it. Patrick didn’t really feel like trying to wander off around the castle when there was a perfectly fine alicorn besides him, so he practiced his (admittedly somewhat mediocre) drawing skills out of a lack things to do. He was nomming on a piece of toast he ordered by taping the request outside Luna’s doors when he heard a quiet pop, and a curious “Hmm,” from an accented voice. Patrick turned around and felt his blood freeze when Discord floated over. Luna was still sleeping off her night time excitement, and didn’t react all to Discord poking her face. Crap, Patrick thought. He tested his nonexistence against alicorns, but he completey forgot about Discord, who was up there in power level but on a completely different axis. Can he even find me. Picking up his control drawings, he carefully edged towards Luna’s bed. “H-hello?” he whispered. Discord gave no reaction, but Patrick saw his ear twitch almost subconsciously. Almost five seconds later, Discord snapped his eyes to a few feet behind him. “S-”hit, he thought, shuffling towards Luna even faster. Once there, he shoved Luna roughly off the bed, her horn bonking off a desk in his haste. “Bwah?” she gasped out through bloodshot eyes. Eyes that starred somewhat uncomprehending at the pieces of paper held in front of her. Discord looked at her collapsed form in confusion, then yelped as Luna sleepily fired a beam of magic vaguely in his direction. Patrick dragged Luna’s surprisingly heavy form into a standing position, hopped onto her back, then held his thumbs over a d-pad direction and another button. “Moonbutt, what are you--” Luna abruptly threw herself over the balcony, wings spread and yawning. “AARARGGH,” Patrick contributed intelligently, mashing the arrow keys to dodge a tower Luna seemed too sleep deprived to notice. Discord’s paw appeared over Patrick’s head out of nowhere. “There seems to be Nothing here. Curious.” His talon closed together. All Patrick could think of was his regret in not writing down a button mapped to teleportation. Patrick faceplanted onto a carpeted floor. He peeled his face off, groaning, and rolled onto his back. He squinted at the fluorescent lights. Looks like the convention again. “Did anyone get the number of that truck,” he muttered, sitting up, them fell speechless. The vendor hall was empty, saved for a confused old man covered in fistfuls of cash. Patrick smacked him over the held with a folding chair.
