> Anon tries to waifu Twilight
> There is a test.
> A high end mathematics and science test
> Fails hard, but Twilight takes pity.
> "You can be my student!"
> You glimpse unholy enthusiasm in those perfect eyes.
> Years pass, and you slowly progress in your studies.
> You still have that failed test.
> You have read it so many times, you could recite the questions from memory.
> You spend most of your day in the treebrary.
> Things she would do to keep you going, oh so platonic.
> A kind word here
> A whispered correction in your ear
> Rubbing your shoulders in between tests.
> The day finally comes.
> "I have taught you all you need to know. Pass the test, Anonymous."
> You stare at the paper in front of you.
> It is an old friend, a hated enemy, and an ancient prophecy.
> Words that once meant nothing are now keys to understanding.
> Your quill shakes as you write your work, your answers, your devotion.
> It feels like sacrilege, it feels like sex, it is holy prostitution.
> The quill is broken, the ink well barren, your hand cramped.
> You are done.
> You set your magnum opus before her, reverently, in awe of what you have become, and the one who sculpted you from the basest of clays.
> As her eyes caress your writings, a change comes over her.
> Her cheeks bloom in delicate rose.
> Her eyes widen, drawing in your essence.
> Pages later, she is shaking.
> When the last answer passes before her eyes, she shudders, and you hear her juices splatter on the floor.
> She meets your eyes and says,
> "Yes, a thousand times yes!"
> You are wed in the holiest of spaces, the Canterlot Royal Library.
> Wedding night is spent on a pile of books, reading, reciting, couplets and coupling.
> She has sought long for one to share her lofty heights.
> You had thought you had loved her, but until you shared her lover you had not.
> Together, you have bedded knowledge, and tasted of its sweetness.
> In so doing, you have become one, and it is glorious.