The Times They Are A Changeling

by Super Trampoline

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Changelings
Length: 2042

Being a first generation interspecies couple isn't easy. But it's not exactly hard, either. It's just different, you know? Different is alright though. Different is interesting. Different is good.

Being a first generation interspecies couple isn't easy. But it's not exactly hard, either. It's just different, you know? Different is alright though. Different is interesting. Different is good.

A series of conversations between Shimmer Song and Clair de Lune. The first story they appear in is These Are the Days of Our Lives, set concurrently to this collection.

Updates every day, even if it's just 50 words.

A hearty thank you to my Patreon patrons Singularity Dream, ocalhoun, and Littlecolt!

Published 2016-03-23 00:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-07-20 05:25:54 UTC

I Think I'm A Sociopath

"So, I've come to a conclusion."

"About what?"

"I think I'm a sociopath."

"Oh, well...okay. I think... explain."

"You think explain?"

"Sorry, change my thoughts while making them. I'd like you to elaborate before I form an opin]ion."

"Okay. Well, like, we're in a relationship now, right?"

"I certainly hope you're not just stringing me along!"

"It's what us changelings do best. You'll have to trust me when I say I'd like to stick with this for a while, though."

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"Well, you do, actually. You could adapt a paranoid, suspicious, questioning approach to our interactions in an attempt to suss out any plans of mine to leave or betray you. But that would be deleterious for both of us."

"Then I guess I'll have to take your sincerity on faith. And cuddles."

"Cuddles are always nice. But I'm getting off topic."

"Carry on."

"Okay. So... how do I put this?"

"I don't know, h--"

"Shut up, Clair. Let me formulate my thoughts."

"Okay."

"Okay, so, Changelings are obviously excellent at detecting emotions, because we feed on them. Love, mostly, but love is--to quote one of your sappy ballads--a many-splendored thing."

"I'm glad my good taste in music is rubbing off on you."

"Or I'm just good at suffering dorks. Anyway, we are very good at detecting and manipulating emotions in others, all while failing to feel them in ourselves."

"Yeah, I don't know the exact definition of 'sociopath', but I feel like that would fit."

"It's a pretty ill-defined term. But while it used to be that the queen's orders took precedence... no, that's not a good way of putting it. It, um, it's more like it used to be that any worries that what we were doing might not be for the best was, er, were drowned out by the thrumming directives and assurances of the queen and the hive. You could be slaughtering innocents without a pang of guilt as long as you were made to believe it was for the good of the hive."

"You told me this, or something to this effect, before. Chilling as always."

"Trust me, what I now believe are my sins still haunt me. But I won't apologize for what I had little control over. Doesn't mean I don't feel bad though."

"Do your past sins make you sad? I thought you said you don't feel emotions. And I'm not trying to be an asshole. I want to know."

Okay, so I don't feel my own emotions. But let's take a personal example. Like, if you're sad, I objectively know that's bad. Or at least, it's bad from my perspective. Beyond needing your nourishment to stay alive, we are in a relationship, and in relationships, you care about the other person. I... I really like being in this relationship. So I do my best to care about you."

"That's... really sweet actually. Thank you, Love."

Tired

"I'm tired."

"Do you need some lovin' touchin' squeezin'?"

"I swear to Khepri if I have to listen to that damn Journey Destination song one more time, I will suck your vital organs out through your nasal cavity."

"Yeesh!

"Look, remember that concert I took you to that weirded even you, Mr. 'I like all kinds of music' out?"

"Yeah. It was two hours of indeterminate buzzing."

"Well, to me, that was music. I, and most changelings in fact, care little for the--to my ears at least--infantile and simplistic rigid major and minor construction of equine pop."

"Well, excuse me for not being hip enough."

"You are forgiven. I'm still tired though."

"Alright, let me try again. Do you want to, I don't know, cuddle or make out or something?"

"You could make me warm soup."

"Pardon?"

"Love is more than just tangential to reproduction and, um, I guess foreplay. Physical affection. That's the term I'm looking for."

"True, but I thought that, when extracted willingly, such physical activities are most satisfying."

"Do you eat the same meal every day, Clair?"

"Well, no."

"Exactly. I've been reading Cadance's new book, like my therapist told me to. I'm actually appreciating it a lot more than I expected. I thought it would all be stuff I already knew, and to a large extent it is, but she also points out a lot of little nuances. Ones of those is love languages."

"I've heard of the term before. Care to elaborate?"

"Sure. I'd love to over some hot soup. Make me some damned soup, please."

"Of course, of course. What flavor would you like? Looks like we've got a can of cream of mushroom--"

"Homemade, actually."

"But... okay. I can do that. What would you like in it, honey?"

"Surprise me. But there's one ingredient you must include."

"And what would that be?"

"Love."

Author's Note

Make Me a Sandwich

Author's Note

This excerpt takes place earlier in their relationship.

Make Me a Sandwich

"Hon, Which side did you pack the sandwiches in?"

"Of your saddlebag?"

"Yes. Remember I asked for that before the hike?"

"Oh dear, I thought you meant for after the hike. I'm afraid they are still in the Frigidaire."

"Sweetie, this is a nine-hour hike! I'm hungry!"

"Can't you just skim off some of your fat reserves?"

"Ponies don't work like that!"

"Sure they do. We've had prisoners of war on hunger strikes live up to two months before succumbing to undernourishment! Surely you can go a day?"

"Soggy toast! That's horrible!"

"Yeah, it is. When they don't cooperate it makes extracting information more difficult."

"That's not why it's horrible!"

"Oh, right! Suffering and all that. Yes, I am glad we are no longer at each others throats, that us changelings can now sustain ourselves off of willing hosts. I mean friends and lovers. Willing friends and lovers."

"You're a horrible person."

"Am I doing the thing again? The thing where I practice being honest instead of duplicitous but end up just... what's the expression ponies use?"

"Uh, for what?"

"Digging a hole for myself! Am I doing that?"

"Yes, yes you are. But... hey, you're trying. And I'm proud of you."

"But I must try harder! I come off as an ass, don't I?"

"Well, yeah, but I know you don't mean to, and I'm over-forgiving and possibly spineless, so I don't mind too much."

"Do you forgive me?"

"I do. But seriously, you should know ponies eat every few hours. Especially if strenuous exercise is involved. I'm going to be bitchy the rest of the hike and it's nobody's fault but yours."

"They never never taught me these things! I wasn't an infiltrator. I just tended the pods. I keep telling you that!"

"I get that. That's why I'm so understanding. But you can do better. I know you are adept at sensing my feelings. But the Great Mother gave us six senses for a reason. Use them. Observe your surroundings. Make notes if you need to. Don't forget sandwiches."

"Well, I did bring an orange."

Anasthetic

"What does it feel like when I eat your love?"

"Uh, well, sort of pleasant actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah, like, a weird tingly sensation. I don't know, don't you guys like use an anesthetic or something so the victim doesn't feel too much pain?"

"I'm a female."

"I keep telling you, it's a gender-generic phrase."

"Right. Anyway, yeah, when we leach love there is a mild paralyzing agent to make the um, lender more complacent. Or maybe it is an anathetic. I'm not really sure. All the science I don't understand. It's just my job five days a week."

"Did you just..."

"Yes. I learn from the best. But really, I'm pretty clueless on how it all works. The hive wasn't real big on education. That's why I asked."

"Fair enough. So have you ever fainted or felt numb?"

"I can't say I have."

"Um...okay. But you at least sleep, right? I mean, I've seen you sleep!"

"Technically, it's a torpor. But yes."

"Alright, well, you know that peaceful feeling right before you fall asl--er, go into torpor?"

"There is no peace in changeling mindscape, only the tortured hellscape of a thousand anguished sins."

"Wait, what?!"

"Gotcha."

"No fair. I can't tell when you're messing with me."

"Maybe you should learn to read ponies better."

"You want to lend me your emotion-sensing powers?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. I keep them right here in this briefcase."

"Cute. But yeah, it feel like I'm losing energy, but not in a bad way. Usually. Sometimes you drain too much, and then I feel weak and sick."

"Didn't you tell me ponies used to categorize that as 'wasting disease'?"

"Yeah, doctors used to have no clue what was going on. Now we do, looking back. How is it I know more about your history than you do?"

"We literally were just talking about this. I have no formal education. You spent hours learning about changelings because you're a dweeb."

"That's a badge I'm proud to wear."

"And that's why I love you."

"You love me because I'm your lunch."

"True, but I'm trying to go beyond that."

"And that's why I love you."

Author's Note

Eraser

"Shimmer, what are you eating?"

"Nooooothing."

"You're a terrible liar, you know."

"That's why I never was sent on missions."

"I guess I should feel reassured by that? So what are you eating?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Clearly my mouth is empty."

"Shimmer."

"Alright, alright, I'm eating an eraser. Happy?"

"Gah! Spit that out!"

"You're not my mom!"

"I'm your husband, and I'm telling you that can't possibly be good for you."

"Do you know enough changeling biology to confidently say that it's bad for me though?"

"Well, no..."

"Uh huh. I enjoy the taste of this eraser, and I am going to keep eating it. So there."

"Ugh. You're weird."

"Whatcha gonna do about it?"

"Nothing, I guess."

"Ha, I win!"

Author's Note

Not to be confused with Erasure, the synth-poppiest synth-pop band to ever synth-pop.

Unicorn Version, for those of you who weren't around the internet 5 years ago:

Subterranean Homesick Blues

"Do you ever miss the hive?"

"Every single day."

"Why don't you go back then?"

"I'd miss you more."

"... That's... cloyingly sweet. I think you're getting better at this romance stuff."

"Thanks. I learn from the best."

"Okay now you're just kissing ass."

Author's Note

I don't plan on making a ton of these Bob Dylan puns, but this one came to me right a way and works greatly.

Breastfeeding?

"So, can I breastfeed?"

"I don't know. I'm not the changeling in this relationship."

"Fair point. But I mean, all this talk of having a foal has gotten me thinking."

"And?"

"Well, you know how we're going to have to either adopt or have a surrogate mother?"

"Yes."

"Well, I run into a similar problem here. Yes, changeling bodies can replicate most fluids that might come out of a regular pony."

"I'm keenly aware."

"That was one time! Anyway, yes, I could theoretically create a poor facsimile of breast milk, but it's not going to be very nutritious and it's not going to be very much and it would take a lot of energy out of me."

"Okay, so we buy bottled milk for our future son or daughter.

"But I mean, I want to experience the motherhood experience! Isn't nursing part of that?"

"Look, if a foal sucking on your teats is going to make you feel more like a mother, I say go for it. Um, that sentence sounded less weird in my head."

"Yeah. Do you think I'm silly though, obsessing over this?"

"No, I don't think you're obsessing. I think you want authenticity, and that's something noble, well, not noble. Um...

"Valid?"

"Sure, let's go with that. Something valid to strive for."

"So I can't breastfeed, but I can pretend to?"

"I guess? We'll just need to put baby bottles on the foal shower registry, and we should be good."

"Okay. I'm glad we had this conversation."

Author's Note