Cosmic Breed

The inane dribble pouring out of the queen's mouth was more or less nothing more than propaganda. When she finished her 'rousing' spiel, the other martians rallied with endless woops and low chants. But as the sounds grew distant, he watched the light from the sun grow dark. And then, when the last of the Cosmic Legion poured out betwixt the clouds, they docked their carriers and destroyers with the castle ramparts and towers.

On her and the princess' mark, they poised their gattling cannons and burning polearms. The first warcry blared over the mountains of Canterlot. The princess of the knight peeled the nearest sky ships with only her voice.

When she rose to lead the charge, she launched forward with her sister not meters behind, leaving the battlefield pulsing with midnight blue and streaks of crackling, golden magick. That was when the gattling units cranked their barrels and tore holes in the advancing paratroopers.

A rich, groggy groan filled his ears and returned him to the waking world. He glanced back to see Fluttershy clinging to his warmth, her lithe hindlegs wrapping tightly over his waist.

Such unbridled warmth was... eldritch to him. The core and torso of a martian was no more chilled than the Sahara desert. Being so intimate with someone who boasted such apparent heat disquieted his subconscious. It felt, in some primal way, that he was being cooked from the inside out and would expire not one hour away.

Twas only a long minute before he detailed her forehooves with his rough fingers. They were so supple. So smooth. Nothing like his scratchy mitts, or anything like human hands. There was flesh there, but the texture was akin to firm marshmallows covered in pygmy flagellum. He caught glimpse of several scars and thin, scraggly scabs along the undersides of her forelegs. That set him off the edge. Who would do that to someone like her. Or anyone.

They were soft, hospitable creatures. Ones that reasoned. Ones that felt and spoke just as anyone else deserved.

A solid chill overtook his chest, starting from the place his hearts were. Everywhere else grew to accepted the corruption and let it pass. And just as soon as he sat up, staring at the torn chrysalis across his bed, Fluttershy stretched her limbs out.

"Nmmmm... You're so mean, Mister. You left me alone last night. You could've stayed and kissed me awake." She groaned, licking his lips and gently laying him with her weight.

He glanced up with a softer gaze anyone had a right to. His good eye was pitch black at the moment; not at all similar to the deep sanguine from yesterday. When Fluttershy found herself staring, she averted his hypnotic midnight visage.

There was something alien about the thumping in her chest, falling for the way he looked beneath her. That was the first time she'd ever felt the urge to meet her lover first. And when she did, pressing faintly against his chest, but that time in need, she burned bright red. With her muzzle turned to the right, she did her best to keep her whispers lithe.

"Gosh... I never realized how cute you were. I'm not sure how to feel about you Mr. Martian. You're okay now. But you forced yourself on me. You're not going to do that again, are you...? Because I-I don't like it when I'm forced you know."

What was she saying. Something inside her told her to stop lying so aggressively. It was true, she really didn't enjoy being forced. She swore it. There was just a matter of the mind and the body. And that was never a common topic, but she wasn't in a conference room with eleven angry strangers. Just herself and her deeper self in the confines of an addled mind.

He couldn't reach any paper. And slipping away from her didn't feel like the right thing to do. So he took her in and stole a kiss. And another. And another. And another. Before long, which extended to the span of five seconds, she'd rolled onto her back and tossed in bed to get comfy. What more could a mare ask but a nice bed and her legs in the air.

When he took his eyes off her, she panicked and her heart stopped.

"What's... what's the matter. Am I- am I too ugly? Do I need makeup?" She whimpered, not understanding his reluctance.

She watched him shake his head and frown a good deal. So when he lifted her forelegs and ran his rough index over her scars, her heart sank. When had he noticed. What would he say. Those were just two of many inquiries plaguing her ill-kempt mind. What she wanted to do was quite obvious, as she found herself hiding and pulling the sheets over her muzzle.

"I... I." She jittered, darting her eyes and freezing everywhere else.

"It was weeks ago, o-okay? I didn't mean to do it. I promise it wasn't you or- or..."

Fluttershy cowered as he stayed silent. Motionless, even. But, as soon as everything followed and there was nothing to hear, she stared up at the man straddling her hips. Soon, she felt an anxious flame burning in her chest.

There was water filming his scrunching, narrowed eyes. And though he did not speak, she knew then and there that there was something unmistakable about him. Whatever happened from then on, it would never hurt if he were the one acting. All the pain and toil would be her doing. So she pulled him down and clung to him one more time that morning, retching in abrupt ways; yes ways hard to swallow.

But the more she kept against him, the more she buried her snout against his cassock, the deeper her body sank. When the last tear dried against his sternum, he felt her limp and weightless. After all he'd done to her, sober or not, in control or a slave to his own chemistry, she still had the heart to trust him.

What a monster, he thought, closing his eyes and laying her in a recovery position. Because at least then she wouldn't pass away from something as trivial as swallowing her own tongue. Fluttershy's forelegs were wrapped in thin linen wraps, and before he shambled away from bed and collapsed on the dirt of the Chrysalis Den, he couldn't help but grin ear-to-ear.

Jagged, little puffs of air shoved out his lungs as he writhed softly against the moist dirt. Everything was burning. His lungs. His abdominal region. Even his endoskeletal chassis was coursing with stabbing pin pricks. So her love bit down on his own hand and overrode the pain. When the agony ate away at his teeth and arteries instead, he seized the chance to inject himself with chrysalis discharge.

"Ha... haha." He grunted.

He breathed deep as his eyelds fell closed, one completely blind and forever bleeding, one blurry with chemical tears.

So warm was his love.

But he could not bear the flame;

no martian man could.