Bug Pony Horse Waifu Conquers the World

by Scarheart

Rating: mature
Tags: Queen Chrysalis, Alternate Universe, Human, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Comedy, Starlight Glimmer, Romance, Self Insert, Adventure, Sex
Length: 21218

Chrysalis finds herself trapped in human form. She finds herself married to a human male. These insults will not go unpunished! The solution? World conquest, of course!

Chrysalis is a driven lady: She's powerful, beautiful, and very persistant. She's also an egotistical pain in the ass with a heart as cold as the South Pole.

Scott has the misfortune of being her husband, in a marriage produced, cast, and directed by one Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, the Alicorn of Love. By marrying Chrysalis to this red headed ape, she hopes it will serve two purposes: Redeem the fallen queen and avenge a slight made against her because of a stupid story spark the dormant magic within all of humanity.

Yes, Earth has always had magic.

Now, if only Chrysalis would stop planning for world conquest...

Original art is NSFW. Please be aware.

Cover Art Artist's Deviant Page

Published 2017-04-14 23:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2017-04-22 02:21:58 UTC

Prologue

Edited byTuxOKC.

Source.

Six months is a long time to be with some people. To say this has been the toughest stretch of my life would be like saying having a shark chewing on your leg is going to hurt. I can’t say anyone else could have ever had quite the experience I’ve had. This little adventure I went through was against my will. Everything had been against my will from the beginning, but we’ll get to that. For now, I’m taking a breath and giving myself a chance to reflect. I need it. My life has intertwined in every conceivable way with a woman. She is a cold woman, a cruel Jezebelle. Selfish and vain, driven by a lust for power, this woman was a succubus and a monster. Yet I have loved her every minute.

Such is the life of a fool.

You see, I was cursed...or blessed with unwavering love for her. It was not something of my doing, nor was it something within her control. A living embodiment of love entwined our souls together, making us one. We were wedded against our wills, forced to love each other through means beyond my understanding. I hate her, I love her. I don’t want to be anywhere near her, yet I am always compelled to follow in her footsteps. The rings we wear and can’t take off burn if we stray too far from each other. They never leave marks.

I know glimpses of her dark mind, how she teases and leads on those who let their dicks do all the talking. She is a difficult woman to love. I can’t not love her. Some would say she is impossible to love. Yet I have to love her.

I have no choice.

Have you seen the ass on her? It's nice and round, but toned like a woman who goes to the gym a lot. It’s an in-between derriere, perfect and enticing every time she moves.

It takes nothing away from the rest of her. Every inch of her is pure sex appeal. Those curves. Every inch of her body is filled out to perfection. Every soft angle is pleasing to my eyes and my fingers ache to touch her flesh. She knows it and she flaunts herself without shame. This woman—she is not human—figured out people in shorter time than it took for her to relearn her magic. Her mind is as amazing as her body.

Too bad it’s twisted more than a bag of pretzels.

Six months I travelled with her. Her temper was short from the first day, but she learned early not to do harm upon me. We are intertwined. We are one, even if we both hate it. We can’t hate each other. The magic won’t allow for it. The love used was strong and emotional. Love is our binding. Love is our prison.

Princess Cadence is not a pony you want to piss off. All I did was write a dumb story that had ponies having an audience with her slapping her ass while they voiced their concerns. I thought it was funny. My audience thought it was funny, for the most part. It was a stupid collection of words and it destroyed my life. Luna destroyed my front door. I haven’t seen my house since then. I hear a garage had been added to the house. I miss my house.

Princess Celestia has been good to her word. Every debt I have ever had was paid off in full. There is a bank account in my name with mind boggling compensation at my disposal. My freedom is restricted and as for Chrysalis...

We feel each other’s emotions. I know when she is hurting and she knows when I am in pain. Sometimes, she’s in my head. Other times, I’m in hers. In between, we’re busy trying to keep each other out. Most of the time, I’m afraid if I open my mind, I’ll feel her thoughts and the things she wants to do to me. The magic makes me love her and I can’t stop it. I have been her conduit and her rock on this world.

At least, I used to be. Things changed in our journey. She still treats me like shit, but there is a sense she does somewhat care about me. The world’s governments have tried to accommodate her demands. Organizations and fringe groups have tried to take Chrysalis for themselves or outright kill her. Through it all, she has shown her dark, monstrous side along with remarkable restraint.

Now, I just want to go home. What we have gone through, I hope is coming to an end.

The writer saved his journal entry and closed the application. He pulled up Google Docs, this one holding the latest chapter of his latest story. It was almost done, the editing going through the final touches. His editor chatted with him for a little bit, asking some questions and clarifying a couple of confusing points in the story. Corrections were made. During all of this, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. They on occasion slid down whenever he had his head bent down for an extended period of time.

The whole time, he could feel her eyes upon him. He could feel her hunger. His mind could at this point pick up the little things, the little flags that told him what she was planning to do. Given what was going to happen today, there was very little doubt she was hungry. There was little he could do to stop her. By now, he was used to her feeding. True, her human form needed sustenance for her flesh and blood, but her magic needed recharging, for lack of a better word. Even with having a body of bone and muscle, Chrysalis was still at her core a magical creature.

The chapter was deemed complete. It was moved from one page to a waiting page on FimFiction with a simple file transfer. The laptop flashed for a moment and it was done in milliseconds. Last touch-ups were needed and the writer tried to concentrate on his work. Progress was saved between minor last minute edits.

The mind caught the movement before his other senses did. It was mealtime. The woman who was not a woman moved like a stalking lioness, her eyes fixated upon her prey.

Chrysalis snaked her arms around his neck and shoulders, resting her chin on top of his head. He was writing and she peered with curious eyes at the screen of his laptop. Muscles stiffened for a moment when her fingertips lighted upon his chest. A moment of hesitation and a pang hung for a moment before she tightened her grip. His heart rate rose as his fingers froze in their work on the keyboard. Pressing her nails into his skin, she drew them over his shirt, raising her head over his until her breasts pillowed the back of his head. Her hands made circles as she hummed. Tilting her head, she bent down and pressed her lips against the curve of his ear with the lightest of touches. Her teal hair cascaded over her shoulder as she made her small movements. Her tongue flicked out and tickled his earlobe. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, her touch electric.

Scott rolled his eyes. Here we go. More of her bullshit.

“What were you writing?” she breathed as her firm and supple breasts rubbed against the back of his head through her shirt. It was easy to tell she was not wearing a bra. She never wore bras. Too restrictive, she had once proclaimed. Now she jiggled everywhere. It was very distracting.

“Words,” came the terse reply.

“About me?” Circles were being drawn on his shirt with a finger. Her touch was teasing as her warm breath tickled his cheek.

He paused, tilting his head into the twins behind him, aware she was messing with him again. Her scent was driving him crazy, as usual, but he thought he could resist her this time. “About you. About me. About everything. I’m surprised you let me go this long without bugging me about it.”

“I’ve made your life miserable, haven’t I?” Her hands ceased their ministrations and made limp curls. “I’ve been a bad girl.” His eyes went to the ring on her finger. The one with which he wore its twin. Both rings had ruined his life. Wedding bands forged in the fires of hell and gifted from Lovebutt herself.

“You’re an evil bitch.” His words felt empty.

A shameless chuckle thrummed from her throat. “I am what I am.”.

The man sighed, again pushing his glasses back with his middle finger.“Where’s Star?”

“She went to get a mocha. There was one of those trendy coffee shops at the street corner. What was it called?” Her voice was sweet and inviting. A hand began to move south, her head sliding forward and down. The other hand came back and rested on his shoulder. A warm cheek pressed into his and she turned, the tip of her nose rubbing against his skin.

For the length of a breath, he held his, bewildered by her movements. Why was she doing this? This had to be another one of her sick jokes. His hand grabbed her southbound arm at the wrist and held it fast. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice a warning.

“I want to please my husband. Isn’t that one of the duties of a good wife?” She retreated her hand, shifting tactics and entwining her fingers with his. Her other hand drifted off as she pressed more of her chest into his back and neck. Her weight shifted as she adjusted her stance. Her skin continued its contact and stimulation against the side of his face, her eyes having never left their target.

“Damn it, Chrys, since when have you considered yourself as my wife? You’ve hated the idea. You always have. I recall you even telling me once the very idea of being married to a talking monkey to be just like having a simpleton diamond dog as a butler.” He was speaking through gritted teeth. Of course, she was playing him. It was a game to her, as it always had been since the beginning. Scott did nothing to stop her ministrations. I’m an idiot.

“Scar,” she purred, using part of his pen name. She had always said it sounded better than his birth name. “Scar, dear, we’ve had several months to get to know each other. I think it’s alright to be intimate. Wouldn’t you agree?” The tip of her tongue flicked out, brushing the top of his ear. She moved in and nibbled at it.

His emotions were mixed. A voice in the back of his mind screamed she was tricking him. Past experience told him she was leading him on. Again. The result would be the same as it always had been. Six months of torture and he still could not resist. Her scent was toxic and he wanted nothing more than to inhale more and more of it. The man turned his head towards her, tightening his grip on the woman’s hand. He could make out her profile, her scent overpowering his senses and driving his mind wild. Her lips were close, so close! They were parted just a little, mere inches from his own. Her eyes were forward, he noted, his own flickering up to catch her gaze. She did offer him a passing glance, the corner of her mouth twitching upward.

Her hold on his hand broke and she reached forward with her arms. Making quick strokes on the keyboard, a grin broke out across her perfect face. He blinked, turning his head to the laptop, a protest forming, but falling short of exiting his mouth. Instead came a groan.

“Goddamn it, Chrysalis!” he threw his hands up in frustration, or tried to. Her body was wrapped around him and she was squeezing him in. “I have a name! Stop using my pen name!”

She chuckled again, holding him down. “I’m playing with my food.” She was a lot stronger than him. He had once told her she had the strength of ten retarded chimpanzees, which was a borderline superhero. The very notion at the time had put her into a predictable rage, almost costing him his life. “Is this the post button?”

It was a rhetorical question.

“What did you type?” Scott asked her in a tired voice. Chrysalis let him lean forward to read. He squinted, adjusting his glasses. They had slid down his nose in the heat of the moment.

“Something to add to your story. I noticed you made an abridged version of how we came to be.”

“I need the humor to stay sane,” he grunted. “It’s a stupid story.”

She gave him a squeeze and another lick. “Poor thing.”

“You won’t let me do anything else without going into Ultra Bitch Spaz Mode.”

Chrysalis hummed, choosing to ignore his words. “Is this the post button?” she asked again, smirking. A finger pointed at the screen.

“Yes,” Scott said with a tortured sigh.

“Will you let me post my little words in your little author’s notes?” She rubbed her face against his and purred like a cat. “Pleeeeease?~”

An explosive breath escaped through his nostrils. “Eh, why the fuck not? It’ll bug her. Pun intended.” A quick manipulation of the mouse and one click later, he published the post. Taking a moment to send a final thank-you to his online editor, he sat back. “Happy?”

“For now,” she answered, taking the mouse from him. She had picked up on modern technology, adapting and making herself learn how to use it. Technology on this world had at first left her baffled, but being a changeling, she was quick to adapt to most of it. “I wonder if she’ll read it.”

Scott grunted. “Probably. ‘Cadence Ass Slap’ got her attention.”—unintentionally—”‘Bug Pony Horse Waifu’ will probably get her notice, too.” He was staring at the comment Chrysalis had added at the bottom of his notes. He arched his brows. An irritated sigh followed, “Really? Would you like for me to message her a link to the story while I’m at it?”

“Yes. Is there something wrong?” Chrysalis began giggling. Her hands began to tease him without mercy. Scott knew she was binge snacking. Picking up on the subtle nuances of what made the changeling tick had been something of a horrifying ordeal, laced with pleasure and a lot of blue balls.

Oh God, the blue balls!

Without thinking, he closed his legs and sat up. It was hard to close his legs now. “Enjoying your snack?” he snarked to her.

“Just a little bit more,” she whispered, her mouth right next to his ear now. “Just a little bit more for me. I’ve got a big day ahead of me. The whole of your world of talking monkeys will soon let me speak before their United Nations and I’ll have this world in the palm of my ho—”

“Hand, Chrysalis. It’s hand. Not hooves.” The pained grunt coming from the poor man only made her smile. Perfect teeth nibbled at his earlobe again. “I really wish you’d reconsider this taking over the world thing you have going on. It didn’t work for Hitler. It didn’t work for Cobra. It didn’t work for a whole bunch of other people who had the same idea.”

“Ah,” she tutted, caressing the other side of his face with the tips of her nails. “But none of them were me. You know,” she shifted her tone, becoming thoughtful, “you could take care of your little problem by having a little fun with that unicorn. Might bring the swelling down a bit.” She reached down and patted the bulge in his jeans.

“I’m a married man,” Scott sighed, not at all doing anything to stop Chrysalis from feeding off of him. “You know I don’t look at her that way. She’s a friend. A plutonic friend.”

“You hated her once.”

“People change.” She was never going to stop testing him.

“Only when they choose to or are forced to,” she agreed, withdrawing her hand. A sigh of relief came from the man. “What are your plans with your silly little stories?” At least she dropped the subject.

“I want to tell the story about how we got to this point, right now.”

He could feel her frown. Her fingers went to his neck and shoulders and began massaging the muscles there. “Why would you want to do that?” Her voice was curious.

“It needs to be told,” Scott replied, closing his eyes. In his mind, he chanted, She is not being affectionate. She is not being affectionate! Oh, God, that feels so good!

“Why?” her voice teased, turning into a moan. She slid around the chair and pressed her hip into his side. He turned his head, craning his neck a little at the sudden shift, eyes widening when they locked with hers. They were afire with green magic, her aura. Her lips parted and she opened her mouth a little bit more, the perfect lines revealing a pair of short and gleaming fangs. She held there for a moment, shifting her arms and placing them around his neck. They crossed over each other as she began to slowly pull his head towards her own.

“It’s important,” Scott’s voice began to weaken as she drew him in.

“More important than me?” her voice began to take on a resonance as her magic filled the air. “More important?” Chrysalis echoed. “Than me?”

“...no. Never…”

A chaste kiss brushed his lips. “Feed me. I have a long day ahead of me and a United Nations Council to speak to.”

“You goddamn evil bitch,” was all he could manage before his defenses crumbled before her sexual delights.

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

On the computer screen, the words she typed could still be seen.

‘Nice planet. Best Wedding Gift Ever! GG lol’

Author's Note

The cover in the prologue was too good not to use.

Lots of innuendo, lots of teasing, lots of sexuality in this story. I had to go with a Mature rating, for obvious reasons. If you can't find the original artwork for the cover, PM me and I'll give you the link. It would be considered NSFW, so I linked the artist's page instead. If there is any issue, please let me know so I can rectify the situation. Thank you!

Thoughts and comments are always welcome. Hopefully this story will help make up for the debacle I put myself in with the precursor story. Enjoy!

1. Welcome to Siberia

Edited byTuxOKC.

Source.

Six months ago...

Appearing in the middle of an airstrip in the middle of frozen nowhere was shocking on several levels. First and most obvious was the cold. It appeared to be late afternoon, though it was hard to tell with the thick gray clouds overhead. The wind howled, sending already fallen snow sideways in waves. Second, there was the fear. The ‘married’ couple were still bound to their dollies, and had been teleported halfway around the world to an unknown region. Third, there were a lot of bundled up men with guns pointed at them. Fourth, those gun toting men spoke in a language the two newlyweds did not understand.

Chrysalis was far less afraid and was already trying to make angry queen words through her muzzled mouth. There were demands, edicts, and declarations, but her muffled anger fell on deaf ears. In the group of soldiers was a young woman with long...purple? streaked hair. She was jabbering with the men, well, one in particular. Her arms were making all sorts of gestures as she rattled off what sounded like Russian, almost as if she was talking them down. Behind them was a large vehicle, some sort of oversized Arctic Cat. More people stood beside it, looking on from beneath covered faces. It had to be below freezing!

The other figure tied to the second dolly, the man who had just become the unwilling husband to Queen Chrysalis of the Changelings, shivered as his brain tried to process so much information. Not married even an hour and a firing squad is how the honeymoon starts!

The name of the groom was Scott. He had a middle name, and a last name, but neither of those were important right now. He did wonder if Chrysalis now had his last name or if due to her rank, he had to take her family name. Nevermind there was a strong chance lots of bullets were about to make swiss cheese out of him. No, no, his addled mind was bound and determined to figure out where in the pecking order his newlywed life put him.

The American shook his head in denial. No! Not married! Against my will!

Now, as his life faced the possible end, he took a moment to study the woman who was now his ‘wife’. He narrowed his blue-green eyes and noted in irritation he was no longer with his glasses. He had been taken from his house sans eyewear. Fortunate for him, Chrysalis was at his side. Maybe not so fortunate, judging from the dread she made him feel. Scott could make out her details if he squinted hard enough.

First of all, he was aware this human form he was witnessing was not her normal form. Her features would put Eva Longoria to shame, from what he could see. Her skin was charcoal gray, sparking memories of National Geographic and its stories on certain African tribes. The face, difficult to make out with the wedding veil and muzzle over her mouth, would have to wait. Her long, teal(!) hair whipped about her face in the wind, making her appear fierce. Scott guessed she was about the same height, six feet, as him. Her bound body beneath her lovely wedding dress was full and toned.

Chrysalis gave him a passing glance, turning her nose up at him as she readdressed the other girl with colorful hair. Her purple streaks, Scott noted with dark thoughts, had him guessing she was Starlight Glimmer, student to Twilight Sparkle and a possible Cousin Oliver. The jury was still out on that. He blinked, his senses still in the process of unscrambling since appearing in the middle of Siberia. Ever since she had been redeemed, Scott had developed a dislike for her character. How did he know she was Starlight Glimmer? Was it her, or was his mind playing tricks on him? Was this a dream? It couldn’t be! It was too goddamn cold!

On top of all this, he was without his glasses. Scott was nearsighted.

A cold thought formed, followed by a swarm of others. A lot of it had to do with confusion, more confusion, and still even more confusion. There was also the What the Fuck Factor. There was always the What the Fuck Factor.

So, why was he not freaking out she was here, in the flesh, and in human form?

And why, for the love of God, was he not freaking out he had been married to the only recurring villain in My Little Pony? Sure, she was evil, had once been drawn splattering a kitten into a wall in front of foals, had a questionable origin story, and already hated his guts; but here she was, a cartoon bug pony queen made into human flesh.

The man blinked, his tuxedo far too big for him. How was any of this possible? His life had taken a turn for the surreal. Just a few hours ago, a woman in black burst through his front door, made terrifying noises, broke his bedroom door, and kidnapped him. Scott came to discover characters from a children’s show had showed up in his world. Compounding his disbelief was Princess Mi Amore Cadenza telling him he was about to be married to a villain as an act of reformation.

It was rude not bothering to ask if he was interested. Or if he believed in cartoon ponies. Or if he believed in magic. Or…or...or...

Scott began to hyperventilate. Madness! Everything was utter and complete madness! There had been no time to digest everything. His brain had shut down from the shock and disbelief. Too much. Too much! Way too much!

I am married to a cockroach! He was a fan of the one dimensional villainess. Scott had thought her near conquest of Equestria to be very well done, saved only by ex deus machina writing. He found himself staring at her again. She filled out her wedding dress very well as a human. Too well, in fact. His idle thoughts zoned him out of the real world. It was fucking cold.

There was a tug at his ropes and his gag fell away. Coughing, he tried to spit. The dry mouth prevented that. Scott shivered and someone draped a blanket over his shoulders, patting hands guiding him towards the Cat. A voice was speaking to him, slow and deliberate. It was Russian, he thought, and not a lick of it made sense.

A woman’s voice called out his last name. He turned his head as hands steadied him while the ropes fell away. “Are you all right?” It was Starlight. She was wearing a fur coat with the hood up and framing her cute face.

Idle thoughts found focus. A humanized pony in a fur coat. Did she know?

“What happened?” he blurted at her. Next to him, Chrysalis was cut from the dolly. She was also given a blanket. The soldiers helping her seemed to have a mix of fear and awe of her presence. “What the fuck just happened to me?” His voice was dry and hoarse. “And why the fuck are you a human? Aren’t you a fucking pony? Why did I get abducted by fucking cartoon characters?”

“My name is Starlight Glimmer,” introduced the woman who was nonplussed by his language. “You were chosen by Princess Cadence to be a caretaker for Chrysalis. I’m supposed to make sure you two get along.” She wore a winning smile.

He gave her a flat, disbelieving stare, “Bullshit. This is all bullshit. I’m going on a drug trip on drugs I didn’t know I was on. What the hell was in that curry?” Scott waved his arms in the air in wide arcs. “This is a dream, no a nightmare! The fuck! I don’t even fucking do drugs!”

“Will someone shut the red-headed monkey up!” snarled Chrysalis. She was glaring at him and withdrawing herself into her blanket. “Shut up, you miserable ape. Just close those lips of yours and cease speaking. I find your voice grating and your mewlings annoying.” She was tugging at something on her hands. “Damn you, Cadenza! This infernal ring! Why will it not come off?”

“I’ll explain everything,” Starlight told her. Moving from Scott, she went and stood before the queen, trying to be as placating as possible. “I’m here to help you and answer any questions you might have, but can we please get everypony out of the cold?”

Starlight turned to one of the soldiers. Scott thought he might be an officer, or at least the ranking noncommissioned officer. No, he had to be an officer. “My mozhem zayti vnutr'?” she asked.

He gave her a curt nod, “Da!” Motioning with his head, he shouted orders at the soldiers and waved an arm. One soldier broke off and ran towards the treaded vehicle. Scott noted the buildings seemed to be the only ones in the local area.

“You speak Russian?” Scott asked Starlight. “Are you using magic?”

She offered him a polite smile, “Of course. I didn’t have enough time to study the language in detail, so I had to expedite the learning process.”

Chrysalis huffed, “How is it you can use magic and I cannot?” She was glaring with suspicion at Starlight. “What is this madness? Why am I here?” Anger manifested from within her and she swayed on unfamiliar feet.

The younger woman put her hands up to placate the fuming changeling. “It takes time, Chrysalis.”

The dark woman’s eyes narrowed. “That is Queen Chrysalis to you, unicorn.” Rage burned within them. Its pal Violence was not far behind.

Starlight offered an apologetic smile. “Of course. It takes time. You need to get used to your body. Magic works differently on this world. If we can get inside, I am prepared to explain things to you. Twilight asked me to do this and I intend to give this project my all.”

“Project?” Scott leaned in, his eyebrows arched. “What project? Am I some sort of guinea pig?”

Chrysalis snarled, “I’ll not be a part of some idiotic social experiment!” With a clumsy swing of an arm, she swung at the nearest soldier, her fingers crooked like claws. Staggering like a toddler throwing a tantrum, the body betrayed her as her mind still thought she was in her natural form. She was still blinding quick. Despite her clumsiness, her hand connected with a shoulder, sending the soldier spinning to the ground.

Everything went nuts. Soldiers began shouting, Starlight Glimmer tried calming the enraged queen, her eyes and hands glowing. Scott did the sensible thing and backed away from his bride, with the immortal words of Gandalf the Gray echoing in his mind, “Fly, you fool!”

“Byt' ostorozhnym!” Starlight yelled. Chrysalis had no intention of listening to the young woman. Her dress made mobility worse for her and she tore at it. The blanket had fallen to the tarmac. Her face was contorted in ugly anger, eyes blazing with a light not unlike Starlight’s. The air crackled and the ceaseless arctic wind now seemed irrelevant. “Ne podkhodite k ney!”

Arms grabbed at Scott and began pulling him away from Chrysalis. He was more than happy to oblige. He watched as another soldier got too close to her. The man was grabbed with both hands and lifted over her head. The soldier was screaming, his arms and legs flailing and kicking. Chrysalis searched out and found Scott and bared her teeth. With a cry, she threw the soldier at him. The Russians around Scott had all turned and raised their arms as their companion came crashing down in their midst. The men grunted and everyone fell.

“Your wife is crazy,” one of the soldiers muttered in broken English. “Dovol'no ledi ochen' sumasshedshiy!”

“Not my wife,” Scott groaned as he helped push the former human projectile off of himself. The soldier seemed to be all right, wearing a mask of bewilderment and fear. “I was happier single.”

There was no more time for talk as Chrysalis barreled straight for the sprawling group of downed men. She fought her legs and her balance with each step, crouched and bent as frustrated screams ripped through the air. Her body was engulfed in a glow of turquoise and her movements came to a halt. Widening her eyes, she spun, searching as she howled in unbridled rage.

“Pristreli yeye!”

Through the howling wind and the screaming changeling, Scott thought he heard what he could only describe as a couple of sharp puffing noises. Without his glasses, his vision was blurred. Chrysalis jerked and spun, and would have fallen if not for the glow that seemed to keep her from toppling. His ring finger began to throb. Rubbing it without thinking, Scott stood up and began a slow walk towards Chrysalis. He ignored the shouts at him.

He heard Starlight’s strained voice, “Otpusti yego!”

Had they shot her? Had Chrysalis been shot? There had been no gunfire. The dark woman was panting, her hands twitching as she stared at them with unfocused eyes. His feet scraped over the pavement and her head perked up. A snarl tried to escape, but all that reached his ears was a whimper. In her shoulder and side he could make out darts.

“You monkeys!” she spat as her legs trembled beneath her. Eyes fluttered. She did not want to fall. “I’ll not show weakness! I-I’ll not s-s-show, n-n-not give satis-sfaction!”

“Go to her, Scott,” Starlight was next to him, a hand on his shoulder. “We need to get inside or you’ll both freeze.”

He looked at her with wide eyes, “Are you nuts?”

“She can’t hurt you. The rings you both wear,” Starlight waved a hand between them, making small circles, “they are enchanted. Cadence prepared for this. Please, trust me and go to your wife.”

“She’s not my wife!” Scott snapped, but did as he was told. Chrysalis was falling and a part of him remembered how he was raised. Bitch or not, the faltering woman was still a lady and would be treated as such. His mother did not raise a pig and his father expected him to always treat all women with respect. Grumbling to himself, arms reached out and caught Chrysalis.

Starlight stood tall and shouted in Russian. More bundled men rushed forward with a stretcher. As they came, Chrysalis reached a hand up and seemed to caress Scott’s face. It might have been a tender moment, if not for the absolute hatred marring her perfect features. The terrified man swallowed his fears and pulled her close, looking around in desperation for help. The aura faded and was gone. His ring was throbbing. Chrysalis’ eyes closed as the drugs overwhelmed her. The hand upon Scott’s cheek became limp and slid off. Idle thoughts noted she felt solid and heavy even as her expression softened to something more akin to a deep sleep.

An older man nudged him, breaking his stare. Scott nodded, not sure as to what was being said, but getting the idea. He might have been saying, ‘get your pretty wife on the stretcher’, or it might have been ‘get this bitch off of my runway’. He wasn’t sure, but there was a smile on the man’s face.

Bundled up and strapped down on the stretcher, Chrysalis was rushed to the Arctic Cat, or whatever the thing was. It was pulling a trailer that was the same size as the cab and they were connected to where people could easily move from one section to the other. The trailer was longer by half and had small square windows. The cab itself seemed to be nothing but windows in the front. It was white, with Russian markings on the sides.

Four men lifted Chrysalis on her stretcher into the vehicle from the back. More men were inside and pulled her in. Scott felt Starlight Glimmer guide him to a side door. She motioned him up the short ladder. “This is a Vityaz. It’s roomier on the inside than it looks. We can talk some more while we head in. There will be food and drink at the base. Doctors will be asking you questions and making sure your needs are taken care of.”

The half frozen man nodded and climbed the small ladder leading up to the door. He squeezed through. A soldier was waiting for him and lent a hand. More Russian was spoken, but it was easy to make out what was conveyed: ‘take a seat’. Numb and confused, Scott obeyed.

Exhaustion plagued his mind. Too many things had happened. Maybe there was also shock involved. Clutching his head with his hands, Scott leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he tried to process the past few hours. He needed time to think! My Little Pony was a goddamn real thing? Magic was real? Chrysalis was real? Luna breaking into his house was real? They could come into this world and do whatever the fuck they wanted?

“Scott?” his name was called out. “Twilight asked me to give this to you.”

Blinking, his attention shifted to the here and now. A hand was holding something in his line of sight. Glasses. His glasses. He took them, mumbling his thanks before slipping them on. At least things weren’t a blur now. Looking up, he saw Starlight Glimmer sitting across from him. He could make out details of her face, now that she had her hood back. She was pretty, he guessed, with a round face and intelligent, searching eyes. A personable smile greeted him.

“Where am I?” Scott asked as he began to look around. The vehicle’s engines roared to life. Voices bounced back and forth as the Russians secured everything for transport. He glanced over at the still form of Chrysalis. She was being attended to by what Scott assumed was a doctor. It was a woman doctor. There was a lurch and the vehicle began moving over the tundra. At least it was warm inside.

When Starlight spoke again, he turned his attention to her. “Siberia,” she replied. Her nose was bright red from the biting arctic air. “We’re about an hour’s flight southwest of Tiksi. There’s a river nearby, the Lena, I think. This was an old prison the Soviets used, a gulag. Not a very nice history behind it. Pretty squat and ugly.” She turned her head and asked the closest Russian a question. He nodded, replied and rose from his seat, moving to the other end of the trailer. Starlight smiled after him before turning her attention again to Scott. “It’s a research center now, for secret projects sanctioned by the United Nations. I think the Russians might be trying to make this their own project, but Canterlot won’t let them. It’s very important what goes on here the next few days is shared with all parties invested in the trade agreement.”

Groaning, Scott covered his face with his hands. “Why am I in Siberia? What is happening? What is this experimental bullshit you were talking about? What treaty?” He was tired, frustrated and cranky.

She pursed her lips, brows furrowing, “It’s hard to explain, but I can give you the rundown. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna have been watching this world for years. The ley lines between our worlds have always had a connection. It’s allowed them to watch humanity’s progress. They know most of modern human history and can recall events from up to twenty-five hundred years ago from personal experience. They’ve tried to guide humanity here and there, but have for the most part taken a hooves off approach.”

A deadpan stare came with, “Huh?”

The young woman sighed, but smiled, “I know it’s a lot to take in, but everything in your history from a thousand years and further back has had some influence imparted from the Diarchs of Equestria. Almost all of your major religions were founded in some way by people who had direct contact with the Princesses.”

Scott blinked, upping the ante with, “What?”

“When Luna was reformed, the two sisters decided it was time to re-establish contact with your world.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You’re not listening, are you?” Starlight frowned, staring at the man.

He shook his head, sputtering, “I have no idea what you’re talking about! All I know is my life’s flipped and everything is fucked up! I’m not getting the right explanation! What about me? Why the fuck am I here? What the fuck do you bitches want with me? I have fucking mortgage payments, car payments, bills, a job to pay those fucking bills and you fucktarded mongoloid cu—,” he cut himself off from finishing the word, “—just decided to yank me from my life for what? Your own fucking amusement? Fuck you!” Scott was unaware he had risen from his seat, arms flailing in the air, and his voice rising as his rage boiled over.

A Russian, annoyed with the American, reached over and shoved the man back into his seat. A finger was shoved in Scott’s face. “Shut fuck up!” he growled with a heavy accent.

Outrage creased the humanized unicorn’s face. “You have quite the tongue on you.” She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. When she exhaled, she opened them. “I understand your confusion. I will help guide you through what is to come. Everything will be explained to you. Everything has been taken care of. Please, I do apologize for everything that has happened to you in the past twenty-four hours and not a lot of it will make sense to you. Everything has happened for a reason. Everything was planned.”

Mindful of the Russian soldier glaring at him, Scott cleared his throat, “What do you mean ‘planned’? What does this have to do with me?”

“Yes. Princess Celestia believes your world is the perfect place to contain powerful villains like Chrysalis. This is because your world’s magic is like an untamed storm. It is very difficult to tap into. As such, magical beings like Chrysalis are restricted to how much magic they can use. It’s a natural buffer and limits how much harm they can do. This will allow reformation of a prisoner so they might become a contributor to society and no longer a menace. At least, that’s the outline of the plan. Princess Celestia is aware there might be changes necessary down the road, so things will be taken slowly at first. Once we get an idea as to how Chrysalis is adapting to her new home, the next stages will be taken.” Starlight turned and smiled at the Russian who was still glaring at the American.

She began speaking to him, shifting languages with ease. The soldier’s face turned and he listened, making slight nods. Scott, unable to understand what was being said, rolled his eyes. When she finished, he rose, cast one final warning glare at Scott, and headed to the front of the vehicle.

“Captain Petrov has been a part of this project for five years,” Starlight said to Scott. A small smile appeared. “He’s been a fan of the show, though he complains it’s a bit too watered down and too child friendly.”

Scott wanted to try and be rational. “Okay. Say this is all real and not some retarded Finding Bigfoot bullshit,” he said, his words slow and deliberate as he tried to think his way through, “Why was I married to Queen Chrysalis, of all things? Why did you guys choose me to be hitched to Bughorse Murderroach? I liked her because she was a plausible villain with very little backstory. I never considered she was real. She’s fake. You’re fake! MLP is a cartoon made to promote toys for little girls!” He failed, and for obvious reasons.

“Only Princess Cadence can answer that question,” Starlight said with an apologetic tone, “at least in a way I think would be satisfactory.” Captain Petrov returned, holding a binder. He handed it to her. “Spasibo!” she gave him a grateful nod. “Here, this, I think will give you an idea as to what is going on.” The binder was given over to Scott. He stared at it until she pressed it into his hands. “I strongly recommend you read it. We’ve got about fifteen minutes before we get to the base.”

A plastic cup materialized in a hand to his right. “Drink.” It was not a question. “Is vodka. Will steady nerves. American needs to relax and clear head. Is good, da?” Scott took the cup and followed the hand up to its owner. It was the old soldier from earlier. “Marriage is stressful. The more beautiful the wife, the more the stress.” A hearty chuckle followed.

Scott smiled despite himself. Laying the binder on his lap, he gave the cup a sniff. A light scent of fermented earth greeted him. Potatoes, maybe? “Thanks,” he nodded to the Russian.

“Is no problem. Drink!”

Starlight puffed her cheeks and made a sour face. “Russians and their bad habits,” she complained, narrowing her baleful gaze at the cup in Scott’s hands. “I strongly suggest you don’t dri—”

Scott quaffed down the cup in one gulp. The alcohol slid down his throat, burning all the way down. He made a face, sucking in a sharp breath of air. Wheezing, he nodded and gave the cup back.

It was refilled without question.

“Really?” Starlight demanded.

Saluting her with the cup, round two went down before the burning from the first had even begun to fade. “Getting drunk sounds like a great idea,” he told her through the burn. “Never got my bachelor party.”

Starlight gave the old Russian a withering glare. He shrugged even as he refilled Scott’s cup. “One can't build one's happiness on others' grief,” he said, casting a glance at the back of the trailer. “I go to see to your wife.”

“She’s not—”

The cup was pressed to Scott’s lips. “No talk. Drink. No think. Be quiet.” He smiled at Starlight and spoke to her at length in his language. She scowled, but said nothing. Instead, she pressed fingers to her temples and rubbed them. She threw her other hand in the direction of the binder.

Scott sighed and opened it. “Fuck my life,” he sighed under his breath.

There was a sudden commotion in the back, with things being knocked around and lots of shouting. Above it all, one voice rang loud and true. “Stop touching me, you damned, dirty apes!” screeched Chrysalis.

“Oh wonderful,” Starlight Glimmer sighed, “She’s awake.”

Author's Note

Vityaz ATV = https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vityaz_(ATV)

Russian words, their translations to English, and their Russian spelling. If there are any tweaks needed, please let me know in a PM or the comments. Thank you!

(1). My mozhem zayti vnutr' = can we go inside = Мы можем зайти внутрь
(2). byt' ostorozhnym = be careful = быть осторожным
(3). Ne podkhodite k ney = Don’t go near her = Не подходите к ней
(4). Dovol'no ledi ochen' sumasshedshiy = Pretty lady very crazy = Довольно леди очень сумасшедший
(5). Pristreli yeye = Shoot her = Пристрели ее
(6). Otpusti yego = Let him go = Отпусти его
(7). Spasibo = Thanks! = Спасибо

2. Project Baba Yaga

Edited byTuxOKC.

Chrysalis lay on her back on a bed, sprawled out in a most unladylike fashion. She lay on top of the blankets, unclothed and staring at her hands and arms. She had awoken some minutes earlier, discovering she was dressed in some sort of gown that wrapped around her front. It was uncomfortable, so she tore it off. It now lay in a heap on the floor.

The sensation of not having holes through her limbs was an odd one. Having digits she could flex at the end of her hoo—wait, what was the word? Not paw. Hand!

Turning her hand over and flexing her fingers, she concentrated on feeling her muscles beneath the skin, fascinated at comparing the differences between this body and the one she had known her entire life. Pleased to find she still had a lithe and supple body, the fallen queen was not at all comfortable relying on two legs to stand on instead of four. There was no chitin or natural armor protecting her body. Her flesh was soft and her skin was smooth. Upon close inspection, tiny hairs could be made out on her skin. They stood out when she angled her view in relation to the lighting in the room. Why did she have teats on her chest? Why were they not covered in fur? Did they not need protection? How confusing! Equestrian mares had bodies that made sense to Chrysalis.

There was hair under her arms and in between her legs. Rational thought plucked at the purpose the hair served. She determined it was logical to assume it prevented chafing and perhaps even some protection for her nether regions. Chrysalis was pleased to find her mane had retained its original color. The majestic tail she had once had was missing, the lack thereof wounding her pride. It was shameful to not have a tail to cover her buggy bits! At least the hair down there was the same color as her mane.

The human body was an outrage, she decided, clenching and unclenching her hands. It was designed for efficiency, but lacked the proud displays a proper queen could do with her wings. Her fangs were too small and were not at all intimidating, in her opinion. Learning how to walk in this infernal form was proving to not be simple. It might have been an easy thing if she was still in her original form, which was a body of magic, but this was, and Chrysalis shuddered when she thought about it, flesh and blood. Everything was different. Even her mind felt altered and tainted. Her thoughts were without the voices of her children.

Her mind felt empty without them. It felt vast and unfilled without the hum of the Hive Mind. The magic which had connected her to her children was gone. There was something else. Chrysalis was not sure if it was magic. It was foreign, but there was something about it. Something untameable. It was attuned to this world. For as long as this world had existed, Chrysalis sensed this strange magic was just as old. Yes, it was magic. Very strange and dangerous magic.

Often her gaze would fall upon the ring on the second outermost digit of her left hand. She had heard it referred to as the ‘ring finger’. Many cultures among humans, be they religious or traditional, had married couples sport marriage bands upon their ring fingers. Chrysalis stretched her fingers and stared at the ring. It would not come off. No matter how much she tried, the damnable thing would not even budge. She could spin it on her finger, it wiggled as if it was just a little loose. The ring would not slide past the knuckle on her finger. There was no pain, no pinching, just no budging whatsoever.

It was true binding magic and very fine work, she admitted. The hand bearing the ring flopped upon her chest. Chrysalis sighed, fighting back the frustration. Her magic was there, she could feel it. Was it her magic? It felt different, wild. She had tried to reach out to it with a calm mind. It had welled up from within before, out in that frozen waste three days prior, fueled by her anger. Yet she could not unleash it then, no matter how hard she tried.

Starlight Glimmer could use magic. Her shifting thoughts went to the humanized unicorn. How was she able to use magic in this useless monkey meatbag form?

Her stomach growled. Chrysalis hated this different hunger. This sort of hunger was known to her, but never before experienced until now. It was a mortal sensation and was almost as persistent as the never ending hunger for emotions. This could be satisfied, if for a short while. Being able to taste her food was a new sensation. Even in Equestria, when she assumed a victim’s form Chrysalis could not taste food. It was like eating a solid nothing. Eating food in this form exposed her to new sensations.

Using her elbows, she pushed herself to a sitting position. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Staring down at her feet, Chrysalis wiggled her toes and frowned. Why did this body need so many little moving parts? The fingers and opposable thumb were useful, but what was the purpose of toes? She thought that was what they were called. Toes. What sort of a word was ‘toes’?

Scrunching her nose, the fallen queen shook the trifling thought from her mind. No, there were other things to deal with, things far more important than pondering the meaning of toes. She looked around her small gray room and sighed.

There was her bed, pushed into the corner. Several thick blankets had been provided, along with sheets and two pillows. They were of good quality, as was the rest of the furniture.

She had a small writing desk, with everything she needed in case she needed to write a letter. There was also a strange device with a flat glowing surface set in the center of it. In front of it was a rectangular device with a variety of square and rectangular buttons on it. The humanized changeling did not know what purpose it served. Chrysalis was intrigued, yet suspicious. Was it a trap?

For now, she chose to ignore the device. Rising to her feet, she shuffled over to the sink by the door. Her fingers brushed against everything along the way, the sensation of having such a sensitive sense of touch a marvel in her mind. She found this new body to be far more sensitive to the world around her, though there were some drawbacks. Her skin was not thick and bare. Plucking up a white bathrobe draped over the end of the bed, she put it on as she shivered. Next to the wash basin was a smaller room containing the toilet and a small shower. Both served as a reminder having mortal flesh was several notches below having a magical form.

Once she had the robe on, Chrysalis put herself in front of the small mirror over the sink. The reflection staring back was disgusted at what she saw. A disheveled mane framed her smooth and unblemished oval face. Deep emerald eyes stared back in her reflection. They seemed to swirl as she leaned closer for a more detailed examination of herself. She could see her own magic within those eyes and ground her teeth in frustration. Why could she not tap into her own power? It was there! It was in her eyes!

Grabbing the mirror, she tore it from the wall and hurled it across the room. It shattered and fell, leaving nothing but a hook on the wall where it had hung. She gave a humorless smirk; at least her ability to manipulate objects without the use of magic was improving.

Her eyes sought out and found the door exiting her room. It was closed. She went to it and reached out for the knob. The door was not locked. Wondering if this was another trap, she opened it with care, wary of any threats that might be lurking on the other side.

Scott sat at a dining table made of stained cherry wood. He wore a tee shirt and gray sweatpants. A pair of flip flops adorned his feet. Across from him sat a man in a dark blue suit and a red tie. A briefcase was opened and set to the side. Papers were stacked in several piles. One was currently being leafed through by the man in the suit. There were two cups of coffee between the two men.

The man in the suit had introduced himself only as Mr. Smith when he had come into the building. He had an air of professionalism to go with a sweaty handshake and a snake oil salesman’s smile. Scott felt uneasy, the back of his mind screaming, I need an adult!

The voice in his head snarked, Act like an adult!

“I am sorry the ambassador could not make it, Mr. Bronson,” the man said. His voice reminded Scott of Ben Stein. Short blonde hair and a receding hairline went with an unassuming face. “He did want to make sure your concerns were addressed and to see about getting things you need.” There was a pause, “Within reason, of course. There are just a few things I would like to go over with you before we get to any requests you might have. Miss Glimmer should be with us shortly to provide answers to questions you no doubt have.”

“Okay,” Scott crossed his arms over his chest and gave the suit an impassive stare. “What sort of things?”

“I just want to make sure what information we have on you is correct.” He found the sheet he wanted and fished a pen from inside his jacket. Clicking it a couple of times, he held it poised and ready. An expectant look greeted Scott.

“Fire away.”

“Date of birth?”

Scott told him.

“Where were you born?”

The hospital’s name and the city was spoken.

“Which state?”

“Washington.”

“Did you graduate high school?”

“Yeah.” Scott included the name of his school. He picked up his coffee and drank.

“Any college?”

“Some. Never graduated.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. He hooked his feet around the front legs of the chair and stared at Mr. Smith. “You guys know all this boring stuff.” He made a gesture at the papers in front of the suit. “Why do you need confirmation?”

Mr. Smith clicked his pen. He had been writing with each of Scott’s answers. “The Russians want to make sure the information they have is correct. There are cameras and microphones in your living quarters. The United States agreed to this interview to make sure the information they have on you is correct. There is also going to be several copies distributed to other nations who have a vested interest in this project. The British received an incomplete report and we’re just making sure the same mistake isn’t repeated. It’s all just your typical diplomatic and political red tape. Everyone wants to make sure they have the same thing the other guy has.”

Scott deflated. “Oh.”

“May I continue?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” More coffee was slurped.

“Four years ago you were diagnosed with, ah, let me see...ah! Type One diabetes. Is this correct?” Mr. Smith looked at Scott for clarification.

This had the man’s attention. “Yeah. I’ve been meaning to ask someone if I was going to get my insulin. Kind of need it. Kind of important. You know how it is.”

“No, I don’t, actually. Rest assured, there will be a doctor in here to make sure any medical needs you have are taken care of. I’ve been told they already know.” Mr. Smith gave a lip service smile. “Your medical records were among the first seized—”

Scott put up a hand. “Hold on a second. Seized?” he asked.

“As soon as you were selected, all public information regarding you was sealed.”

“Why was I sealed?” the red headed man sputtered, “I’m an American citizen! You can’t do that to me! I have rights!”

“I’m sorry, but your rights were suspended the moment we found out you were a match.”

Bewildered for a moment, Scott stood up, slapping his hands over its surface. “Match?” His chair toppled back and clattered on the concrete floor. “What the fuck, man!,” he yelled. “What do you mean ‘suspended’?”

Mr. Smith ignored the postering. Setting down his pen, he folded his hands before him and regarded the angry man. “You are now property of the United Nations. You are at the forefront of a brighter future for all of mankind. You have no idea how good you have it right now. Thousands of candidates were passed over for the position you currently hold. If only you knew how big this was, you’d shut up and thank your lucky stars you are in the position you are now.” His voice droned as if he was bored. “There are some good things to come out of this, if you’d be so kind as to calm yourself and listen. Please, Mr. Bronson.” A seating motion was made with his hand.

His appearance and tone might have eased Scott down from his anger. Turning, the irritated man bent and righted his chair. Plopping down on it, he refused to look at Mr. Smith, instead crossing his arms and looking at one of the ceiling lights. “There go my freedoms,” he sighed, his brows in a knot. He found himself drawn to his wedding ring. There go my freedoms indeed!

“May I please continue where we left off, Mr. Bronson?” The pen clicked again. It was such an annoying sound.

“Sure. None of this is your fault,” Scott sighed in defeat, swiveling his head to the suit. “Just doing your job, I guess.”

Mr. Smith blinked and gave a single nod. “I’m glad you’re being reasonable about this. Cooperation will make things a lot more manageable for you. Now, where were we? Ah! You have military experience.”

“Four years in the Air Force. Security Forces.”

“And your rank at the end of your Active Duty service?”

“Senior Airman. E-4.”

“Very good. And your current occupation?”

“Night shift lead in the warehouse. Skyreach Pharmaceutical Distribution. Been there going on five years.” Scott blew air from his mouth. “I was up for a raise. Five percent on my five year mark.” The coffee beckoned. He partook, staring into his cup. The slurping was as loud and annoying as he could manage.

“I am sorry for your loss, Mr. Bronson,” Mr. Smith offered his condolences with what Scott suspected to be something less than complete sincerity. “But right now, this moment, you are probably one of the most important figures in history. You are becoming part of history. Please remember that.”

“What is going on here?” a woman’s voice demanded. “I was expecting a trap. Instead, I find this.”

Both men spun their heads in the direction of that voice. Mr. Smith paled, his eyes going wide before he jerked his head away. Scott came very close to spraying coffee everywhere.

Chrysalis stood before them, one hand on the wall to help keep her steady as she stood wearing an open white robe and nothing else. The other hand was on her hip as she regarded them with shameless, cold eyes. There was nothing left to the imagination as she flaunted her breasts with zero concern for modesty.

“Madam!” Mr. Smith stood and averted his eyes. He jabbed a finger at her. It shook as if it was scolding her. “Madam, please! Cover yourself!”

Chrysalis looked down at herself, quirking an eyebrow. “Why? Am I ugly?” A twinge of panic was in her words. “Was I given a hideous monkey body?” Instead of covering herself, she peeled the robe from her shoulders and let it hang around her sides and arms. Her breasts were eye magnets for the only redhead in the room.

He stared, trying to put his cup on the table. “Nope. Not ugly at all!” It clattered a couple of times as he fumbled his grip.

The robe dropped to the floor. Chrysalis turned her body one way, then the other. “Are you sure?” she asked, pleading. There was a great deal of jiggling. It was the right amount of jiggle. Nothing sagged.

“Oh my God,” breathed Scott. By now, his vision had drifted south. The teal hair was mesmerizing. “How long were you standing there?”

All sense of trepidation fell away. “Good,” Chrysalis straightened herself and walked with slow and measured steps towards Mr. Smith. “I heard everything, not that I wanted to. Who are you, well-dressed monkey? Why should I not vent my frustrations from being dragged to this Tartarus-cursed world upon you? Speak quickly, monkey! My patience is frayed and I hunger!” Her hips swayed from side to side.

The poor man stumbled back from her, gibbering and trying not to stare. Onward she came, ruthless as not a single trace of a smile could be seen. Her eyes had a hunger in them, her lips parted, revealing the tips of her fangs.

“I’m an aide to Ambassador Sharon Williams of the United States of America!” he cried, backpedaling from the encroaching naked woman with the dark skin and long, teal hair. “Cover yourself, please! This isn’t proper!”

Behind him, the door opened. Starlight Glimmer strode in. She was wearing jeans and rose colored turtleneck sweater. “Chrysalis, I’m going to have to ask you to cover yourself.” A very determined look accompanied her walk. “Humans tend to frown on nudity.” Waving a hand in a simple gesture, the robe on the floor was wrapped in her aura and rose. It hung in the air, hanging at shoulder height. “If you please,” she insisted.

Smouldering anger became a growl from the fallen queen, but she complied, slipping her arms through the sleeves. The aura faded, the robe fell upon her shoulders. Without being prompted, Chrysalis closed her front and tied it shut. She gave a wary growl, “Happy?”

Starlight smiled, chirping, “Yes! Thank you!”

“How I loathe you,” Chrysalis snarled, huffing as she brushed a strand of her unkempt hair from her eyes. With angry grace, she sat at the table and began drumming her fingers on its top with one hand while she rested her chin on the other. She wore the expression of a grumpy lady.

“Everpony, please take a seat,” the young woman said as she guided Mr. Smith to the indicated destination. “Everyone, I mean.” She giggled and Chrysalis’ scowl deepened, complete with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re adjusting to your human body, Chrysalis.”

“Queen Chrysalis,” snapped the irritable former and fallen changeling queen.

Scott refilled his coffee cup from the counter in the kitchenette. Trudging back to his seat, he sat down with Chrysalis to his right. Mr. Smith resumed his former seat, his nervous and furtive glances flickering to the now brooding teal haired woman. Starlight took the last seat, to Scott’s left and interlaced her fingers on the table.

“All right then,” Starlight surveyed the table, looking very positive. “Sorry I was late. Our Russian hosts had a few concerns I had to take care of. None of that is important to anypo—one at this table, so let’s get down to it, okay?”

“I for one am glad you showed up, Miss Glimmer,” Mr. Smith said with a nervous laugh.

“I did ask you to wait until I could join you,” she told him with an arched brow.

He nodded. “You did. I just had no idea she—” he pointed at Chrysalis, “—would flaunt herself so shamelessly.”

“Social experiment,” Chrysalis explained with a shrug.

“She has great lungs,” Scott observed. He sipped his coffee. “Has a great arm, too. Did you see her chuck that soldier at me yesterday? Felt like high school gym class all over again.”

Chrysalis glared at him. He gave her his middle finger. Starlight cleared her throat while Mr. Smith appeared even more uncomfortable now. “This is an important meeting. Please, can we just get through this without bickering?”

“No!” Chrysalis and Scott said at the same time while they glared at each other.

“Wonderful,” Starlight sounded strained through her smile, “you both sound like a married couple.”

“He is aroused,” Chrysalis grunted, making a sour face and glaring at Scott. Her outrage was plain for all to see.

Sipping his coffee, he retorted, “Yes I am.” There was pride in his voice. “She’s not my wife.” A furious blush was showing on his face.

She rolled her eyes again. “Starlight Glimmer, let’s get this over with so I can get away from this cretin.”

“Of course!” The humanized unicorn nodded and rubbed her hands together. “Explanations are needed. Explaining why you are here, Chrysalis, should be easy. You on the other hand,” she said to Scott, making a rapid succession of expressions before settling on an apologetic grimace, “are a complicated issue. The Security Council has been in an uproar. You weren’t even on the list until most recently. We really did not want a fan of the show and especially not a Queen Chrysalis fan.”

Chrysalis blinked in disbelief. “I have fans on this planet of the apes? What fans? What show?” she demanded, perking up and swiveling her head around from person to person. Her emerald eyes widened, then narrowed, “I demand answers!” She pounded the table with a fist for emphasis.

Starlight’s voice rose, “And you’re getting them!” In a much calmer tone, she added, “But I need you calm. Please.”

Grumbling, the dark woman sat back in her chair and crossed her arms under her breasts. “Fine.”

Satisfied, Starlight Glimmer pulled out a small remote from her pocket. “All right. Pay attention to the wall over there,” she pointed the remote and pressed a button. The lighting in the room dimmed and the wall lit up as if a projector had been turned on.

A smiling image of Princess Mi Amore Cadenza appeared. She was an alicorn, her ears perked forward and a warm and loving smile gracing her muzzle. It appeared as though she was sitting, her eyes flicking down before her eyes widened. “Oh, is it recording? Oh! Well, let’s get started.”

She straightened herself, tilting her head to one side a touch. “Hello and welcome to Project Baba Yaga! This is a unified effort from all members of the United Nations, led by the Security Council, to bring magic back to this world. The project was originally founded by Princess Celestia and Princess Luna a thousand years ago—”

“Does everything start a thousand years ago with you guys?” Scott muttered, glaring at the all-too-cheerful pink alicorn. Chrysalis gave a snort in agreement.

“—but had to be put on hold due to unforeseen circumstances. It was revived ten years ago and contact was re-established between Earth and Equus. Celestia avoided appearing as she did before; a goddess who tried to guide Humanity away from evil and showing the ways of Harmony. Humans, she discovered over time, were violent and resistant to changes. She had some followers, but ultimately, she did not want to interfere with human cultural development.”

“There is so much wrong with what I just heard,” Scott whispered to himself, blinking in disbelief.

“Get to the point,” Chrysalis slumped on the table, a hand snaking out ahead of her. It brushed up against Scott’s arm. He flinched from her touch. Her head adjusted and he found one of her eyes glittering up at him before focusing back on the wall.

Cadence appeared to enjoy giving her lecture. “Project Baba Yaga was conceived on the foundation of restoring the use of magic to humans by having a powerful Fae travel the lands and seek out the so-called myths in each land. It is believed the magic of Earth is dormant and can be awakened by finding and reviving creatures that exist in the myths and legends of all cultures and regions. This Fae would have to endure the inherent dangers and find a way to convince the creatures encountered to help restore the magic lost to human antiquity.”

To say Chrysalis was stunned was an understatement. She pulled herself up, trembling. Scott winced from her, feeling a pain in his chest. Was this fear? It didn’t feel like it was his.

“She expects me to what?”

“For this to happen,” Cadence went on, shifting the tilt of her head, “the Fae in question would need to have an anchor to this world in order to tap into the magic. It has proven in the past that tapping into the magic of this world by beings from Equus causes mental and physical trauma.”

“Nightmare Moon?” Scott guessed.

“Project Baba Yaga aims to allow a Fae from Equus to tap into her magic abilities by binding her soul to that of another soul of Earth with a strong link to Earth’s ley lines. This does not have to be a human capable of magic, but one sensitive to its presence. The more sensitive the human subject, the easier it is for the Fae to convert Earth magic for her own use. However, the soul of the Fae and the soul of the human must be bound to each other through marriage. Artifacts such as wedding bands to connect the souls must be used as links. Their bond is strongest when they are together, becoming weaker the farther apart they are.”

“He has to be near me so I can channel my magic?” Chrysalis threw her attention at Starlight. “What idiocy is this?”

Cadence’s video went on. “At the conclusion of the project, when we are confident we have enough access to magic in order to properly study it and introduce it to humans, the Fae will hopefully be reformed and be able to continue contributing to the refinement of magical research and development, having become a permanent resident of Earth. As the project must be flexible and adjust to unforeseen complications, the United Nations has been given full authority to make changes with advice readily at their disposal from Canterlot’s finest minds in magical research.”

“Sparklebutt,” Scott guessed.

“As this project is delving into the unknown, Canterlot has provided for the United Nations the skills and knowledge of the unicorn Starlight Glimmer, a very capable individual who is intimately familiar with the married couple. Her responsibilities will include keeping any damage inflicted to privately owned property at a minimum and, of course, prevent harm to civilians. It is hoped the Fae will learn a newfound appreciation for love and life by caring for and having a human companion as a life partner. I know this does not explain everything, but I do hope this video helps to point you in the right direction. Good luck and good hunting!” Cadence smiled, exhaled in relief and looked off camera. “Are we done? We are? Oh, good, I’m star—” The screen went dark.

There was a long period of silence as the four sat at the table in the dim light of the room. The lighting improved. Scott raised his eyebrows. “Intimately familiar? Life partner?”

Starlight smiled at him, “The video was pre-recorded. Princess Cadence never considered same sex couples to be an issue. Love is love, after all.”

“Ah. Well, I want nothing to do with this,” he told her in a flat tone. “I want a divorce, an annulment, or something!” It was a futile effort, but he still tugged at his ring. “This is bullshit, this is slavery, this is stealing my personal freedoms as an individual! How fucking dare you motherfucking assholes steal my life from me!” He was roaring by the time he finished, leaping to his feet. Grabbing the sides of the table, he flipped it towards Mr. Smith, who was scrambling away from the enraged man.

Starlight Glimmer moved, her expression grim. With one hand, she pointed at the table. It froze in midair and stayed there, bathed in her aura. With the other, she clawed her fingers in the air. Scott was also engulfed in her aura. With the hand channeling the magic keeping him in place, she guided him to a couch while righting the table with her other hand. Releasing him, he plopped onto the couch, his arms and legs splaying as he yelped.

“Oh, please, Mr. Bronson,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry this is a huge inconvenience to you, but there weren’t enough candidates who had a higher rating than you. The ones that did would not have been a good match at all for Chrysalis. Too domineering. This was a choice based on a matter of scientific analysis and a hunch from Princess Cadence. You will be compensated and outrageously so. You’ll have so much money you won’t know what to do with it. All of your debts; car loan, mortgage, insurance, medical bills have been taken care of. Your roommate will not have to move. Everything is taken care of.”

“Nobody asked me if I wanted to do this!” Scott sat up with veins popping on his forehead.

“Nobody asked me, either!” Chrysalis thundered back. She spun on Starlight, “Where is your husband, unicorn? Where is your conduit?”

The young woman pulled a pendant from beneath her sweater. “Here.”

Flaring her nostrils, Chrysalis pointed a shaking finger at the pendant. “Why can’t I have that? Why do I instead have that?” The accusatory finger levelled at the red-headed ape.

“The answer is simple,” Starlight explained as she tucked her pendant away. “Having a living conduit should keep your scheming to a minimum. Mr. Bronson, our research shows, should be able to control how much magic you can channel at any given time.”

“Oh, good, I can run away,” sarcasm dripped on every word as he waved his arms in the air.

“Well, technically, that would work,” Starlight admitted. “She’ll only be able to work her magic so long as you are within a certain distance. We’re still not too sure of the limits, but we will find out. No, what I meant was, with training, you should be able to control how much magic she can draw upon at any given time.”

“But I can’t use it.”

“Ah, no, you can’t. Humans can’t use magic directly. At least, not anymore. The magical bloodlines have thinned out considerably. We’re still searching for magical humans, but chances are a lot of it was bred out of the world population or just disappeared over the centuries. All we have are living artifacts like you, Mr. Bronson.”

Chrysalis narrowed her eyes. “I see. Clever. Flawed, but clever.”

“Well, there is a way for you to not need him. You can be rid of him and the rings.”

The dark woman worked her mouth, and chewed on her bottom lip. “You have my attention. No doubt there’s a catch.”

“Well, if you can develop true love for your husband and it’s an honest relationship you build with him, I’ve been told there is a possibility the magic of this world will become fully open to you.” Starlight smiled at the fallen changeling queen. “You’ll then be able to remove the rings.”

Chrysalis closed her eyes and hung her head, shaking it. “Never going to happen. I’ll not accept this! What if I were to refuse to this so-called Baga Waga lunacy?” she proposed.

Mr. Smith spoke up, “Then you’ll be imprisoned on this world at a location of choosing by the United Nations. There, you will be subjected to experimentation as you are not human and are therefore not afforded the rights granted to humans. You are a magical creature and therefore do not exist. No one will care if an imaginary fairy was dissected in a secret location. All you have going for you right now is your natural physical strength, but other than that, you have no other means to protect yourself. Humanity can be ruthless and without remorse, Queen Chrysalis. I suggest you play ball with us. It will make your life so much easier. In the end, you’ll be able to live in the lap of luxury, pursue your carnal desires to your heart’s content. Within reason, of course. You will be constantly under close observation.” His smile was small and terrifying. “And the name of the project is Baba Yaga. The Russian President insisted on the name.”

Starlight blanched at the man’s words. “Harsh, Mr. Smith. Wasn’t there a more diplomatic way to tell her she’s screwed?”

“Of course there is, but I wanted her to know exactly where in the pecking order she is. Her attitude is insufferable and her arrogance has no place considering what she is. She’s a war criminal who has been transferred from your world and given into the custody of the World Security Council. The United Nations now holds the reins of your fate, Queen Chrysalis,” he turned to the now sputtering former queen. “I suggest you start racking up your good girl points. You might get off early on good behavior.”

There was uneasy silence in the room. Chrysalis was fuming, clenching and unclenching her fists as her eyes threatened to burn holes through Mr. Smith’s head.

Starlight broke the silence. “In case you were both wondering,” she said to Scott and Chrysalis. She clapped her hands together and assumed a nervous grin. “Your rings were a gift from one of the living myths of this world. She was once an adversary of Celestia herself.”

“Who?” Scott asked. Chrysalis remained silent, no doubt tuning out the noise around her.

“The project is named after her. She is looking forward to meeting the both of you and will be your first mission.” The humanized unicorn became excited and bounced on the balls of her feet. “I’m excited! I get to meet a real Yoda, but a bit darker and a tad more gruesome.”

“How the hell do you know about Yoda?” Scott demanded.

Starlight Glimmer placed her hands on her hips and stood tall and proud. “YouTube.”

Author's Note

Maybe now we can get this adventure started!

Who is Baba Yaga? Why is she keen on helping Mankind rediscover magic? And what is going on in the Legion of Doom?

3. Feeling Blue

Edited byTuxOKC.

Sleep. It was elusive prey. Scott lay in his bed, his mind in turmoil. His right to live his life his way had been taken from him. The world had gone mad, thinking him nothing more than something to help with human progress. He had become a tread on the wheel, being pushed into the mud with all the weight of expectations from others crushed down upon him. Only, they were not hopeful for him. They were only hopeful for results.

The sense of betrayal deepened when he thought of his own country. His own government had shattered any belief he might have had in them. Scott had hoped the American ambassador would show up, clear up this mess, and send him home. All of this had to be some sort of mistake, even if the whole magic thing was real. Mr. Smith, the ambassador’s aide, had told him he would see the ambassador, but to not be hopeful of going home anytime soon.

A part of him died today. He felt weak and there was frustration in not being able to protect himself. A depression was beginning to set in. How could he find a way out of this? Chrysalis was a spiteful woman. It was clear she wanted no part of this world government witch hunt and she resented him for being…

“Married. And Mom wasn’t there to see it,” he murmured, thinking of her. His mother had always been hopeful he’d find a nice girl, settle down and be happy. Scott had the looks and the personality to be a great husband, she had once told him.

So why had he never found Miss Right? Over the years, there had been a few women, some of which he had been hopeful of. But, for one reason or another, the relationships fizzled out. One of them had said he had a son, but she disappeared somewhere in the west coast, having found someone else to be with.

How old would his son be now? Four? Five?

Scott would never see him now. The sentence of life without parole had been passed down, without a trial, without due process, without charges. He was guilty of being chosen for something beyond his understanding and his cellmate was a woman who was always angry.

At least she had the body of a goddess and the looks of an angel.

Thinking of Chrysalis took him out of his depressive mood. The woman was a paradox; a selfish conqueror, yet Scott sympathized with her. A succubus with the blackest of hearts, but the man’s thoughts were filled with her. She was the sort of girl who commanded attention whenever she entered a room. Proud, confident, and a woman used to being in control, Scott thought she must be having thoughts like his own. How did he feel about her to this point? She was shameless, thought little of him, and he was maybe a little intimidated by her. Curiosity for her and who she was battled with the constant fear he had of her. On top of that, she was a war criminal, if what he had heard was true. His ring finger itched.

I love her.

I hate her.

I am so confused!

His stomach grumbled. At least he wasn’t too far into his funk to ignore his hunger. With a sigh, Scott sat up. What time was it? The clock on the nightstand said it was a little past three in the morning.

Putting on his glasses and flip flops, he shuffled from his room and down the short hallway to the living area. It was a large room, the living room to the right and the dining room to the left. The kitchenette was just past the dining room. The walls were gray and concrete, as was the floor. Large area rugs covered it. He studied the walls and the ceiling, thinking this must have, at some point, been a part of a much larger room. From what he remembered from when he first came here, the building had been the largest in the complex. Its design was different from the other buildings, leading Scott to think it might be newer.

The history of this place…had it once been a prisoner of war camp during the Second World War? It was possible. How many Germans never made it home from places like this? Scott wondered. His imagination loved to toy with him, even if the images in his mind were not very pleasant.

Setting those thoughts aside, Scott noticed the television was on in the living room. As he entered, he went between the living and dining areas, his eyes searching out and finding Chrysalis on the couch. He was surprised, considering what time it was. Maybe she was also having trouble sleeping? She was wearing the same robe from earlier and sitting cross legged, snuggled in a blanket. Her right hand held a remote on her lap and she was watching the screen with keen interest. The dark woman was chewing on the tip of her finger. On the screen was a Russian woman and she appeared to be giving a stock report. His heart thumped in his chest.

Should he say something to her? He paused and considered. Conversation was going to happen, even if he delayed. “Hey,” he said. The next several footsteps had him in the kitchen. He began rummaging through the cabinets for food. “What are you doing?”

“Learning,” she replied, sounding irritated. The tone seemed to be normal with her. The channel changed. It sounded like a news network, the British Broadcasting Corporation. It was nice to hear English.

Fishing out a can of soup, he stared at the label. Of course it was in Russian. Was this borscht soup? Beet soup in a can? Was it even soup? For all he knew, it was a can of lard. The red and white label made him think of another soup brand. Deciding to put his man pants on, finding out what was in the can and eating its contents became his mission. His stomach rumbled in agreement. Setting it on the table, he started going through the drawers in search of a can opener. On the counter there was a note. He paused in his search and read it.

Mr. Bronson

Your insulin has been delivered and placed in the refrigerator. The doctor has included instructions. I am aware you already know how to medicate yourself. The needles should be in the bag on top of the refrigerator. Your lisinopril and atorvastatin have been included. If you have any questions, there is a landline for anything you might need to improve your quality of life. It is a direct line and there is always someone there to answer.

Starlight

Scott tossed the note aside. He found an unmarked brown paper bag and opened it. He pulled out two bottles of pills and a box of insulin needles. Setting them aside, he opened the fridge. Sure enough there was a small glass vial of insulin. It was even the brand prescribed by his doctor. There was also a box of insulin pens to take before meals. Soon the bottle was on the table while Scott opened the box of needles. Filling the syringe, he lifted up his shirt with one hand and injected the insulin just to the left of his belly button. Recapping the needle, he looked around for a garbage can.

“What did you just do?” the sound of Chrysalis’ voice made him jump.

After taking a moment to recover, Scott took a deep breath. He looked for and found the garbage can at the end of the counter. Into it went the used needle. “I have Type One diabetes. My pancreas can’t produce insulin naturally, so I have to inject some into my body in order to process sugars,” he explained as he put the insulin back into the fridge. He opened the pill bottles and got a pill from each. “Diabetes is a disease and I have to deal with it.”

“So, my mate is diseased,” Chrysalis deadpanned. Scott glanced over his shoulder and saw she had turned with her back to the television and was leaning on her elbows on the back of the couch. “I am married to a diseased ape. How wonderful. And there is no cure?”

Your attitude sucks, lady! Annoyed with the dark woman, Scott decided to humor her anyway. “There is one still in testing. There was a woman recently cured of it in testing. I was hoping to be put on the list of recipients of the new treatment, but it’s far too expensive. My health insurance won’t cover it because it’s so new.”

“And the pills?”

“Mostly preventive maintenance. One is for my kidneys and the other is for cholesterol.” Scott resumed his search for a can opener. He found it in the third drawer he opened and pulled it out. “I also have to take a fast acting insulin before meals to keep my blood sugar levels from getting too high.” Was there a blood sugar monitor? He blinked and checked the bag again. Nope. “Shit.”

“What?” Chrysalis was curious.

“They forgot to give me a means to check my blood sugar levels. They got everything else here, but no blood glucose monitor. Idiots!” He threw his hands up in frustration. Turning, he pressed his back to the counter, grinding his teeth and gripping the edge until his knuckles turned white.

The dark woman studied him, tilting her head first to one side, then the other. As she did so, she chewed on her bottom lip. He was oblivious to her stares, muttering under his breath and closing his eyes. Chrysalis reached out for his emotions, tasting them. With thoughtful care, she broke down and separated them, her innate abilities still hers to command. Much to her surprise, it was far easier to draw from Scott’s emotions than it was that other human. She had tried with her display earlier with Mr. Smith. Drawing upon his emotions had been like reaching through thick sludge. The reward had not been worth it. Starlight Glimmer was protected against her.

With Scott, there was nothing barring her from feeding off of his feelings. He was easy prey. She hummed to herself, withdrawing herself from feeding. Chrysalis was not sure if he could sense her or not. It was too early to experiment. There was also the issue if the rings were responsible, or if it was the love spell Cadence had cast, or both. One thing was plain to the fallen queen; Scott did love her. Planted love, not from him, but from Cadence. It was an imitator, yet Scott thought it was from himself. It was a quiet little flame, one he was fumbling with. He did not understand it as there was also a part of him that hated Chrysalis. The insults she had hurled at him, the insinuations; Chrysalis could feel they had been burrowing under his skin. Now they were festering to the point where he should be harboring a strong dislike for her. But the flame...the little unkillable flame. It had been planted by and reinforced Cadence.

Was it the rings? It made sense.

The one emotion that stood out, the largest layer of emotion wrapped around him was fear. Scott was terrified. He was trying to cope and failing. The stress was mounting and he was struggling to keep himself from flying apart.

As Chrysalis withdrew, she considered her options. One way or another, she had to find a way to escape from the monkeys. If there was binding magic between herself and the red-headed ape, then she would have to take him with her. It was unavoidable if that was the case. It would also make things more difficult to manage. Perhaps even impossible. The fallen queen considered she might need the annoying and diseased ape. Chewing on a nail, she turned on the couch and sat down, drawing her legs to her chest.

Her unwanted ape was diseased, it needed maintenance. This would not do. Chrysalis was intelligent enough to assume she was stuck with him. Her own experiments were needed.

The ape began to play around in the kitchenette again. He was muttering, saying something about pans and shoving them up specific political posteriors. Chrysalis half paid attention as her mind began making several plans at once. She rose to her feet and padded towards Scott. He had his back to her and had the can opener and can in hand.

Sneaking up behind him, Chrysalis found she was glad they shared the same height. She had the slight advantage, if at all. The dark woman frowned for a moment taking a moment to look at the man’s back. She studied his form. Larger than the average human male, she guessed, but not by much. He stood tall and straight, hinting at some pride in himself. How others saw him was important, she guessed. Chrysalis knew she could be wrong. Reading human body language was new to her, but posture she felt was one of the keys. Out of habit, he stood with his shoulders rolled back and did not hunch over the kitchen counter.

He was working the can opener, focused on the can revealing its secrets in his grip.

It was time for a little experiment. Chrysalis reached out with her hands and with the lightest of touches laid her palms against his shoulder blades. She needed to learn about human intimacy and if they were social creatures or loners. Suspicions leaned towards the former, though the latter felt plausible.

Scott tensed the moment there was contact. He paused in what he was doing and turned his head to look over his shoulder. “What are you doing?” Curious and suspicious, he went back to work on opening the can.

“I want to see something,” she replied, smiling. These apes were not as thick in body as ponies and were only half the size of minotaurs, but they did have the bodies of hunters.

“You gonna suck the love out of me?” he asked with little sarcasm.

Was that curiosity? Chrysalis blinked, hesitated and considered. Yes, he was curious!

“I already did a little skimming,” she confessed, watching her hands as they rubbed up and down his back. Hmm, he could use more muscle. Can’t have an under muscled minion.

“You what?” He removed the lid and set the can opener aside. The can was lifted to his nose and there was an experimental sniff. “Ew and no.” The opened can was held over his shoulder. “Smell this.”

A pungent odor assailed her nostrils. She had no idea what it was she was smelling, but it was earthy and very strong. Chrysalis recoiled, making a sour face as she shoved herself away from Scott. “Tartarus!” She covered her nose with a hand. “What is that?”

Scott stared down into the open can with a face devoid of hope. “Dinner. There’s nothing else in the cupboards. Cans and cans of this stuff.”

“If you think I am going to partake in that,” Chrysalis said, pointing at the stink-in-a-can, “you’re mad! Call room service. They said we could call if we needed anything. Tell the other apes to feed us.”

“This isn’t the Hilton,” Scott told her as he shook his head.

She assumed it was a reference to something a bit more posh than their current accommodations. “We are in a gilded cage, my little ape. Use the communication device they provided for us. I am hungry and I am in a body that requires the same food you do.”

He stared, then turned to face her, “What the hell is your problem? You keep calling me an ape. What’s with the racism?” The anger billowed up so fast as to catch Chrysalis off guard.

“Because that is what you are,” she told him, narrowing her eyes. “You are not a pony. You are not a griffon. You are clearly not a changeling. You are an ape. A monkey. A simian with slightly above average intelligence who might be of use to me. It’s not my fault you live in a world lacking in sapient diversity. And the term you’re looking for is ‘xenophobia’.” She moved forward, surprising the man by pressing into his body with her own. Arms snaked over his shoulders and around his neck, locking in place. “I don’t hate other species, my dear ape. Only a select few.”

His anger melted, giving way to arousal. Were all sapient simians like this? Scott blinked and stared, not knowing what to do. His cheeks colored and Chrysalis smiled into the man’s eyes. She unleashed her pheromones, having already discovered she could control them at Mr. Smith’s expense. Eyes dilated as he stared into her eyes. Harlequin emeralds held his green-blue orbs in entrancement. Chrysalis unleashed her femininity with devastating effect. Enticing him, with great care she peeled away his emotional and mental defenses. She needed to know her pet monkey. It was far too easy.

“I don’t hate you,” she went on, feeling his arms move around her waist. “I find you tolerable. Will you please order us something to eat?” She nipped at his nose. “Please?”

Chrysalis could feel his heart pounding harder in his chest. Around her finger he wrapped himself, so eager to earn a favor. Touch was very important to this monkey, she decided. This was too easy. Refraining from feeding, she took this moment to study her prey, to know him and how to best manipulate him with minimal effort. Did he want her breasts pressed up against his chest? Yes. Yes he did. Did he want to shove his crotch up against hers? Oh, well, that was such a silly question. Scott’s dick was rock hard. He was ready. The ape wanted her, his hands already on her ass, fingers groping. Chrysalis noted it was not an unpleasant experience. Dissecting his actions and filing his mannerisms away for future use, Chrysalis fell upon her own experiences. His hands were now searching up her robe, touching her bare flesh beneath. His heart rate accelerated, his breath quickening. The air about him was that of a hopeless romantic, until this moment. He wanted her, to be inside her, to fuck her senseless.

A blind, deaf changeling would have caught on to his animalistic lust.

“Okay,” came the reply. Head tilted, he moved in for a kiss.

It never landed. She pushed him away, tittering as she teased. “Good.” Her hips swayed in a seductive manner as she spun on a heel and flounced back to the couch.

Scott was abandoned, his arms hanging as a look of bewilderment stuck on his face. “Goddammit!” His lust chased after the dark woman, a futile endeavor. It left him hanging in more ways than one. The poor man was in an uncomfortable position and it came with a little pain. “God fucking dammit!”

Chrysalis laughed at him. “It’s not going to be that easy, my little ape. You’ll have to earn it.” So your training begins, my ‘husband’. We must prepare for what is to come. “Food now, if you please!”

At least there was no more fear in the room. The angry monkey would be most entertaining while he dealt with his new problem.

Author's Note

So...yeah...that feeling. Show of hands from anyone who had a love interest do this to you!

Next chapter: Russian food, a waiting game, and Chrysalis discovers My Little Pony.

There might be gagging, outrage, and disbelieving laughter.

4. Pathos and Ponies

Edited byTuxOKC.

The Russians did provide food that was edible and quite tasty. Chrysalis and Scott were introduced to a fish soup called uhka. It had potatoes, onions, and parsley and was seasoned with just salt and pepper. With it were dumplings called pelmeni filled with seasoned pork. Tea was served with their meal. Chrysalis thought it was delicious. They ate in silence, with Scott ignoring Chrysalis despite her attempts to get him to teach her how to use utensils. Her smile faded and her mood grayed as melancholy hovered over the man. He went to his room after clearing his dishes from the table and setting them on the kitchen counter. The sound of the door slamming shut left Chrysalis quizzical.

What was wrong with him?

Far from being stupid, Chrysalis decided to do something. The dark woman would have to touch her mind to his. This would mean using her magic for the first time and using it on a mind unfamiliar to her. Clearing the table, she retired to her own bedroom. She waited until she was sure he was asleep. Mental defenses were lower when the individual was at rest. Calming her own thoughts, she sat on the bed, and focused within herself. Her magic flowed within and she could shape it as she pleased. Her problem was sending it beyond her being. However, she remembered Scott was her conduit and pushed her magic and her mind to him.

It was simple once her mind made contact with his. Not too much! Easy does it! It opened, giving way before her gentle power. Harming him would serve no purpose and Chrysalis knew she might need Scott whole. What she found was a spirit on the brink of collapse, held together by stubborn pride. It was surprising to discover the ape was prideful. He hid it well beneath multiple layers. There, she found his sense of duty. It was strong. His sense of commitment was weak, she felt. His mind was older, as he was approaching his early middle years. This left it more difficult to mold and shape him as she saw fit. This might have been one of the reasons Cadence had chosen him.

What mind she found was in tatters. She had expected Scott be be on the brink of a mental collapse. Perhaps there would be some self loathing or maybe some simmering hatred. She was not at all shocked to find the ape to be at a loss, to feel betrayed. Oh, the anger was there and there was focus for it. Good. Very good. She could work with that!

What was unexpected was him sensing her presence. Scott recoiled as though it was a bad dream, his mental defenses closing upon her like a bear trap. Chrysalis tried to take control, but his defenses created a backlash. Jerking back into a state of consciousness, she was gasping and had a throbbing headache. Fingers touched her temples as she winced. Human minds were dangerous!

Grunting, Chrysalis decided to give up on trying to sort out Scott. Her mood had soured and she hoped he dreamed of camels tromping over his testicles. She swam through her own dark thoughts, leaving the man to drown in his own self pity.

It was strange. As she snuggled into her blankets, Chrysalis could have sworn she heard Scott’s voice in her head.

I love you.

Her ring throbbed and her sleep was troubled. Damn Equestrians and their damnable magic. Had it been combined with Earth magic? Baba Yaga had made these rings, or so Chrysalis was led to believe. Tugging at her ring, Chrysalis hissed, dreading a terrible dread. Mental backlash was riding the waves of her own magic, she realized as she ground her teeth. I will have words with this creature, she determined, flaring her eyes wide. The lingering connection between her and Scott was severed, leaving Chrysalis fighting the urge to cry out. The pain! Tartarus the bucking pain!

Never before had her mind felt an attack like this! Even if it was Scott instinctively protecting himself, it was pain the likes of which Chrysalis had not felt in an age. She made a loud gasp and tears rolled down her cheeks. Curling up into a ball, a single word dominated her thoughts.

How?

Her dreams were troubled, her sleep fitful.

Some time later, she awoke to a dull emptiness in her heart. A headache pinged her brain without mercy and her mouth was dry. Placing a hand over her chest, Chrysalis breathed in slowly, fighting the whimper wanting to come out. The sensation of helplessness clawed from without. Rolling onto her back, Chrysalis took a moment to try and collect herself. It was difficult. Compelled to get up, she slid out of bed and touched her fingers to her temple. Her balance felt off and she swayed. Barefooted, she left her room, her steps silent. A hand along the wall helped guide her.

Already knowing the source, she went to it. Eyes adjusted to the gloom. She had always felt more comfortable seeing in the darkness. Her balance felt off. There were no lights on, save for the glow of the television. What time was it? There were no windows in the compound. How many eyes were upon her?

There was a smell in the room. It was faint at first, Chrysalis knew who it was. Scott was sprawled out in a sitting position at one end of the couch, one bare foot on the coffee table. A bottle was in his hand. Chrysalis had no idea there was a store of alcohol. Scott had found it, that much was obvious. The bottle was half empty and the ape was watching something on the television. The sound was turned down as bright colors splashed and danced across the screen.

Her blood ran cold when she saw what it was he was watching.

The colors were too vivid, the proportions were all wrong. Chrysalis placed her fingers over her mouth and tried to hide a gasp of shock. Scott heard her, noted her presence with a frown, and took a pull from his bottle.

“They have Netflix here,” he slurred. “Wa-wanted to watch the fu-fucking pones-s-s. I wanna see wha-a-at went wr-wrong.” Tears were falling. “All the fucking lies. Wanna watch the lies with me?” The struggle to form coherent sentences was evident. “You don’t love me. Why should you love me? I don’t love me. Fucking ponies. Fucking Cadence. Fuck you.”

The throbbing in her head grew. Chrysalis watched as the ape fumbled with the remote.

“Let’s start at the beginning,” he said with a dead smile, “I’m two e-epis-s-sodes in. Season one. Just watched the bulls-s-hit that was Luna’s ‘reformation’.” It was difficult to make air quotes while holding a bottle and a remote in both hands, but Scott was game to try.

Chrysalis was in disbelief. The human was far worse than she thought. “What is wrong with you?” She knew the answer.

Scott took another mouthful of booze. “Drink with me, you loveless bitch. S-sit with me a-a-and drink with me! A man sh-should never drink alone. Unless he’s G-george Thorogood. Then it’s with nobody else. When he d-drinks alone, he pref-f-fers to be by hims-s-self. Ha!”

Flabbergasted, Chrysalis moved around the couch and blocked the ape’s view of the outrage making a mockery of her world. She held a hand out. “Give me the bottle.”

He cradled the bottle. It sloshed and some splashed out. “Get your own! This is the most unders-s-standing Russian I’ve met! I call her Olga Vodka. She lets me have my way with her and she doesn’t talk back!”

A retort formed on her lips, but it was interrupted by the television behind her. Music started playing. Chrysalis turned and gave the screen an incredulous stare. What followed left her speechless.

My Little Pony, My Little Pony
Ahh, ahh, ahh, ahhh...

(My Little Pony)
I used to wonder what friendship could be
(My Little Pony)
Until you all shared its magic with me

Big adventure

Tons of fun

A beautiful heart

Faithful and strong

Sharing kindness!

It's an easy feat
And magic makes it all complete
You have my little ponies
Do you know you're all my very best friends?

My Little Pony
My Little Pony
My Little Pony... friends

For several agonizing seconds the humanized changeling did a very good impression of a landed fish. “What?” Chrysalis wore a horrified and confused expression. “What did I just watch? What is this?” She spun and jabbed a finger at the offending source, staring at Scott as if he was some guru of wisdom.

“It’s a mindfuck,” he told her, his words failing to walk a straight line. “The greatest mindfuck of the generation. Maybe in history. Fuck. I don’t know. Want that drink?” The bottle was offered. His chin trembled. “I know you d-don’t l-love me. You’re not real. None of this is real. You’re a bughorse cartoon pony villain that’s o-one dimensional and with n-n-no character depth. Amazing tits, though. You have a nice ass. Did you know you have a nice ass?” He giggled, his head rolling from side to side on the back of the couch. “You fucking unreal bitch. I want to fuck an ima-imagine-imaginary bug horse. Fuck me.” His eyes froze in place, then locked onto hers. “No, don’t drunk me. I’m fuck.” Eyes closed, Scott took another swig of his bottle.

Chrysalis felt her headache grow. She did not need this.

“Bug pony horse waifuuuu~” he sang, then chortled, amused with himself, “Drink with meeeee~” The amusement changed into a choking sob.

She could not help herself. Giving in, she swiped the bottle, glaring down at the drunken ape before taking a deep pull herself. Then, she turned and stared at the television screen before sinking into the middle of the couch next to Scott. Not a stranger to alcohol, Chrysalis found this particular brand strong and it had been seeped in some sort of fruit. It was only after she had taken a drink that she wondered how her body would be affected. Never one to let good booze go to waste, the fallen queen only wished she had better company to share it with.

With glazed eyes, Scott watched the screen, his expression neutral. His hands were limp on his lap. It was as though he was in the process of becoming one with the couch, or the couch becoming one with him. It was very Zen. Chrysalis chose to ignore him until he reached for the bottle. His feeble efforts were brushed aside as she watched the horror unfold on the television screen. The cheerful ponies, their inane adventures, their trite little problems…

Propaganda.

She watched. Unable to stop herself, she watched. Unwilling to believe what she was seeing, Chrysalis watched. It was like an endless stream of insults directed towards her in the most personal of manners.

Propaganda!

This was human entertainment? This was how Celestia planned to win over this world? Through inane entertainment? Was she appeasing a great mob? No, Celestia would have more than just this to win over human trust. What did she want out of this? The game she played was always the long game. If there were short term advantages, they would in time show themselves. Or so the humanized changeling hoped.

Chrysalis looked down and realized the bottle was empty. She needed more. “Where did you get this?” she asked Scott, shoving the bottle in his face.

“Cabinet above the fridge,” he mumbled. “Watching the fucking ponies. Don’t be r-rude. F-f-fucking rude.” How was he staying awake? “Have my babies. Have all of-f-f my b-b-babies. I’d be a good daddy. Why can’t I be a daddy?” He became sad, pouting as he stared into Chrysalis’ eyes. “I love you, bug pony horse waifu. You’re not real, none of this is real. It’s all r-r-relative.”

The sudden surge of emotions, their mix of highs and lows, blues and reds, colors of all substance assailed the humanized changeling. Unable to help herself and not sure as to why, Chrysalis flung her arms around the drunk man and gave him a deep and passionate kiss. She hated herself for giving in to the pull of his impaired emotional state, so she broke away with a snarl and stared down at the man grinning up at her. Her senses were abuzz. Feeding off a drunk felt so wrong, but felt so right!

A hand groped and found a breast. “Boobies!”

And there went any semblance of a good mood!

She slapped him across the cheek and stormed to the kitchenette for another bottle. Furious with herself, she tore a cabinet door off its hinges and found a sizable stash of alcohol of an impressive variety waiting to be sampled. Selecting one, she didn’t even bother to look at the label. Colorful pastel ponies pronked and pranced in her line of sight. She guzzled the bottle, feeling the burn go down her throat. It was a wonderful sort of burn, threatening to melt her esophagus on its way to her belly. The effects would be slow to hit at first, but Chrysalis knew what was coming. Or she thought she did. Tossing the emptied bottle aside, she fetched two more, her attention for the moment lingering on the red-headed ape.

He was hopeless.

“Drunken idiot,” she harrumphed, resuming her seat on the couch with a graceless plop. Shoving one of the bottles into his hands, Chrysalis snarled, “Don’t touch me like that ever again!”

Hugging the bottle to himself, he nodded, “Yes, Bug Pony Horse Waifu.”

“And don’t call me that!”

Scott pouted. “But I love you!”

“That’s the magic, you fool,” she sighed as she unscrewed her drink. A quick sniff discovered a strong hint of cinnamon. “You don’t love me. You have been compelled to love me, you drunken, sodden monkey!” Not that I mind the raw emotional love you’re giving off!

Weight pressed into her side. A head rested on her shoulder. “Let’s watch the lies. Let’s drink and watch the lies together. We can get fucked up.” A hand began to roam over her thigh. Chrysalis sighed, removing it with a pinch of her fingers. She would not have minded if it weren’t for the fact she was having a lot of trouble trying to make heads or tails of the intelligence-reducing filth that passed as entertainment on this world. None of it had impressed her to this point. With a shove, Scott was pushed away. He was so relaxed it was easy to move him. Falling into the corner of the couch, his eyes went to the television. There he stayed, wearing a drunken grin. “You’re so fuckable, but you’re not real.”

The ape made unhappy simian noises. Drunken, unhappy simian noises. Chrysalis watched in annoyed fascination as the human passed out before her eyes, his emotional state undeniable in its misery. Cadence had given her a broken love toy. Why?

The answer was obvious, but still…

Why?

She drank from her bottle, considered having a glass with ice. She noted the advantages of having fingers and opposable thumbs, marvelling at how easy it was to manipulate objects with physical grasping. Maybe they would be useful for strangling…

She looked at Scott, her urge to do violence upon his body making her feel ill. Chrysalis fought it, closing her eyes and trying to imagine her fingers around his neck, squeezing and squeezing. Her ring began to pulse. This is wrong. No! Her head began to pound, the pain intensifying the more she tried to think of murdering the monkey sitting next to her. It became blinding pain, but she fought it, more and more! I will have my freedom! I will not—

She screamed, not of pain, but frustration. Balled fists pressed against her temples as she curled into herself on the couch. Her ears rang and her mind was swimming through burning acid. The pain blinded her. It remained, this pain, until all thoughts of doing harm to the monkey next to her faded away. She was stubborn, only giving in when the tears began to fall. Chrysalis hated this. She hated being on this world. She hated not having her children around her. She hated not being able to hear them.

What else did the alicorns take away from her?

Arms wrapped around her. At first she resisted, shaking her head. “S’okay. The show gets better with each season.” Chrysalis was patted on the head. She felt herself guided down until she was resting on a lap. Blurry eyes stared at the cartoon characters galavanting across the screen.

This was terrible.

This was awful.

She couldn’t even commit mariticide. Such an ancient and time honored practice she enjoyed in the past was denied. Chrysalis sighed and, unable to avert her gaze, watched with a twitching eye as ponies explored the magic of friendship together by going on adventures. A disturbing thought came to her, even as a pink pony posing as an entire polka band led a bunch of parasprites out of a half devoured town.

Since when did I consider this monkey my husband? Another numb thought followed. Parasprites never looked that adorable.

It was the wet and cold that awoke her. Opened eyes revealed the room was lit only by the screen of the television. What time was it? Who was snoring? Lifting her head, she found she had been using Scott’s lap as a pillow. One of his arms was draped over her shoulder. Pushing it off, she sat up, tugging at the robes that had ridden up her legs. A glance told her Scott’s head was leaning back, his mouth partially open. His booze was still cradled like a baby in one arm.

I really need to learn how to wear human clothing, she mused to herself. Something felt off. “Why am I wet?” Looking around, she found the bottle she had last night had at some point tipped, dumping its contents all over herself. The front of her robe was a soggy mess.

There was a knock at the door. It opened and a figure entered. “Why is it so dark in here?” Starlight Glimmer’s voice wondered aloud. The lights came on, showing the young woman with her hand on the light switch and staring at Chrysalis hovering over Scott’s thighs. “What are you wa—oh. Oh!”

Chrysalis turned her head towards the humanized unicorn, still fighting to push the last of sleep from her consciousness. With a yawn, she grunted, “What?” Rising to her feet, she plucked at her wet robe and sniffed at it. Surprise, surprise! It stank of alcohol! Woo-hoo! “I need to get cleaned up. Starlight Glimmer, I’ll need you to show me how human clothing works. My skin is not thick enough to retain warmth.”

“Did you two—”

“Huh?” Yawning, it took a moment for the words to click. Chrysalis bristled. “No!”

“While watching—”

“I said no! I’m sadistic, not masochistic!”

Starlight struggled to conceal a smile. “Well, that’s honest enough, I suppose. Have you figured out the shower yet? There should be some shampoo and soap.” She paused, unable to help herself. “Are you sure you two didn’t make your marriage official?”

“Your magic won’t protect you forever,” Chrysalis muttered under her breath.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’ll have to show me how to work the levers,” she said a bit louder. Tilting her head towards her slumbering monkey, she added, “Let him sleep. He had a bit of a breakdown last night. Er, what time is it?”

Starlight fished out a small, flat and rectangular device with a screen. Holding it in one hand, she touched its smooth screen with a finger. “It’s just past noon.” It was slipped back into her back pocket. She was wearing blue jeans and a form fitting black turtleneck. Black shoes adorned her feet. A ponytail kept her two toned hair out of the way. “We had an issue with our security system, so I was asked to come check on you guys. I have some news!”

Chrysalis plucked at her robe. “Can I get cleaned first before you start yammering like a special needs foal?”

Starlight crossed her arms over her chest. “There is no need to be insulting like that. I’m here to make sure you get acclimated to this world and prepare you for what’s to come.”

Without bothering to check to see if Scott was awake, Chrysalis began to peel the robe off as she moved towards her room. Her personal shower awaited. Now unclothed, she sauntered into her room. Starlight was behind her.

“I’m going to have a word with Captain Petrov about the amount of hard liquor you two are allowed to have. I thought the Princess made it clear there was to be no alcohol while you two were in isolation,” Starlight held the robe up in one hand while wearing a look of disgust.

“How is you being in here helping with the isolation?” Chrysalis asked as she fiddled with the knobs in the shower. “Blast! Which knob is the hot water?”

“Left,” supplied the younger woman. She dropped the robe into a convenient clothes hamper by the door. “The right knob is the cold water. We’re lucky we have our own water heater here. Some cities go without hot water during the summer for a lot of Russians because of maintenance on the city water pipes. Some of my Russian friends say it’s just an excuse by the government hanging on to some of the old ways, before the former government collapsed. It’s all over Russia, and I’m not about to get into an argument in regards to their history. Most of the concern is about how hard the winters are on the pipes.”

Chrysalis adjusted the knobs with one hand while her other felt the water. She kept this up while Starlight spoke before she stepped into the shower. Turning her head up into the falling water, she stood there and let it cascade all over. “Sounds chaotic,” she commented. Perhaps it would not be a bad idea to hear the humanized unicorn’s thoughts on the apes. “Which one is the shampoo? I can’t read this gibberish. Is it this?” She held up a bottle chosen at random.

“That’s body wash. Use the blue bottle with the red cap.” Starlight pointed from where she stood in the doorway. “There is a grooming kit for you somewhere. Would you like me to find it? I have no idea where they put things while they were preparing for you.”

Frowning at those words, Chrysalis put a generous amount of shampoo in her hair. Working up a lather, she called out, “Go ahead.” Visions of doing a great deal of violence to Twilight Sparkle’s student brought a smile to her face. Patience!

As the dark woman worked on her locks, Starlight found what she was looking for in a basket by the sink. A hair dryer hung on the wall next to where…

“Where’s your mirror?” she asked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your mirror!” Starlight stepped into the shower. Chrysalis had both hands in her hair with suds dripping everywhere. “You had a mirror on the wall. What happened to it?”

Chrysalis went back to her hair. “Oh. That. I threw it. It’s probably on the other side of the room.” An arm made a vague wave from the shower. Steam was making a slow invasion of the bedroom. “You still have magic. Feel free to fix it if you like.” Her voice made a haunting echo off the tiles in the shower room.

“Maybe later. Look. That news I have for you? Do you want to hear it?”

“Yes. So long as it is not a waste of my time.”

“We were waiting for Baba Yaga to appear. Russia has a lot of very large and very imposing forests. She appears in them at random. We’ve got agents in the field monitoring for any disturbances in the ley lines. Once we can confirm she has rejoined this dimension, we’ll be able to move in and put you in a position to make contact.”

Chrysalis rinsed out the shampoo from her hair. “So, you already have an idea as to how she moves around?” There was a luffa hanging from a hook by the shower head. She picked it up, examining it. Taking up the body wash, she put a healthy dollop onto it and began washing herself. “These rings are hers, aren’t they? This Baba Yaga? She made them?” She showed Starlight her ring while giving the young woman a shameless full frontal view.

“Yes.”

“And you have no idea how they can be removed?”

“No, none at all,” came the reply. “But I came this morning because I have news. Baba Yaga’s hut has been spotted. I need you and Scott ready to leave within the hour. Captain Petrov will be here to go over last minute details and make sure the two of you are dressed properly and have the right supplies. You will have an escort, but there will be a point where you and your husband will have to go it alone. There is an agreement only one mortal may approach the hut. It’s a safety issue.”

Chrysalis frowned. “I don’t like the sound of this. Sounds to me like a trap.”

“There is a good chance Baba Yaga will want to test you. As the rings were gifted to you, she’ll expect her investment in time and magic to be worth the effort. If you pass, you’ll be taught magic. If you fail, well,” Starlight trailed off, unable to look Chrysalis in the eye.

“And if I fail?” the dark woman prompted with a smirk.

“Then the witch will eat you and Mr. Bronson.”

“Because she’s evil, I wager.” Chrysalis rolled her eyes. “Of course she is. Do be a good girl and fix my mirror, would you please, Starlight Glimmer? A queen must look her best when showing her dominance.” Her voice hummed as she bathed herself, looking forward to meeting this Baba Yaga. Chrysalis would once again wield magic and begin her own plans.

Author's Note

We're finally getting somewhere!

A little bit of a jump forward, then Chrysalis meets the fabled Baba Yaga!

Yes, yes, I'm sure everyone's asking themselves the same question:

How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

Next Chapter: The Witch in the Forest