Crushing On Crackle Cosette

Chapters

And They Were Roomates
The Game
Meanie Bug

And They Were Roomates

Sunny, comfortable Ponyville. Another day spent wondering if another conflict that sends the town spiraling into it's next big hubbub was looming on that horizon. At this point, Anon is pretty sure the Citizens actually enjoy the shakeup from the small-town boredom. Barely a cloud in the sky with those weather-ponies working overtime -- and he was spending the day as he should. Drinking something with a percentage slapped on the front.

Getting jumbled into a world of small, loud horses never bode well for his hangovers. Berry Punch was a lifesaver when he first arrived -- knew the good places to buy something, the best nations to keep an eye out on imports from, the whole shebang. His years of alcoholism had nothing on hers; student to the master. She even had the small-town reputation.

Unfortunately, the only place that served it was the markets. In bottles, meant for drinking at home. And a loud, bass-boosted club, where Anon was pretty sure they were treading on the edge of inventing Molly. Not quite his speed or his prefered flavor of time-waster, and kind of amusing that they didn't have a proper bar. Maybe one day, if he saved up enough money, he'd open his own. For now though, Anon stuck to home drinking that funded entirely by a unique trade.

Janitor at the hospital. Lucrative stuff, considering most Ponies did not like the sight of blood or bones -- even some of the ones with medical insignias stapled to their rear got squeamish. Anon, not so much. Thank you early internet for your Liveleak Chinese Factory Accident videos, for securing his career and desensitizing him at an early age.

It used to be a lonely endeavor; the drinking, not the cleaning. Not so much recently. Town was buzzing (ha) with it's most recent scandal, and it was tied to the mare sat on the chair beside him on his patio.

Nice, small one-story one-bedroom. He could've aimed for higher, but he liked savings, and didn't like a big empty house. Located smack inside the town, everything he needed was but a short walk away. Honestly, the lack of cars had grown on him. Even the furthest places, like the Apples farm, was a short on-foot journey.

Currently, said nice view of someone else's front garden and the streets of Ponyville was interrupted by a familiar, colorful pair of Purple and Blue.

"Just let us know if you see her, okay Anon?" Purple urges.

"Yeah, sure." Anon nods, not entirely invested in the conversation.

"I haven't perfected the tracking magic yet, leaving it to a large and undefined area, but I'm certain she's hiding somewhere in Ponyville. Don't worry, we'll find her, just be smart and safe, alright?" Purple rambles, pointing with her hoof -- at her horn, the surrounding buildings... she's probably just excited to have a chance to run around experimenting with a spell.

"Yep." Anon nods again, keeping to simplicity.

"If anypony starts acting strange or unlike themselves, let us know --" Purple continues, but Blue flaps in front of her, balling her hooves. An odd visual.

"We'll knock 'em around!" Blue exclaims, grinning.

" -- We'll check for Changeling activity. Well, Chrysalis activity now. Alright?" Purple cuts back in, moving Blue aside with her magic.

"Sure thing. Thanks for keeping us safe." Anon idly nods, revealing the rare triple-head-tilt-of-disinterested-acknowledgement.

"That goes for you too, ma'am. Don't hesitate to let us know." Purple says to the Mare beside him, who startles out of staring down the neck of an empty bottle, glancing up.

"U-Uh, yeah, of course. Thanks." She says simply, smiling awkwardly.

Twilight nods, throwing Rainbow Dash a quick scowl for interrupting as the pair trot off, Twilight's horn glowing brightly. Dash rolls her eyes, flapping after her as she starts to complain about how little of a role she has in these 'Chrysalis warnings'.

Purple was the reason he was stuck here, and couldn't send him back. Couldn't send him back, because her research all got burnt up in the whoopsie. Purple also had connections, which meant that instead of getting in big trouble for stranding an alien in another world, things were kept hush with a nice cash settlement that went towards his house. He got along fine with them well enough.

Once they get far enough away, they keep glancing back, whispering to each-other.

Anon slowly turns to the Mare sat beside himself, watching her neck crane and ear flicker as she counter-listens. Like a radar dish, her ear nearly doubles in size and takes a bat-like appearance.

"Well?" Anon asks, sipping idly. "They figure you out?"

"They're more surprised you seem to be... dating." The mare mumbles, giving Anon a half-lidded stares as her ear shifts back to normal. "Seriously?"

"Ha. They had bets on how my dating life would end up. Applejack thought I'd die alone, while Rarity thought my loveable personality and burgeoning ambitions would land me a thousand mares." Anon states dramatically, waving a hand around.

"You mean how she thought you were a lazy bum with no goals?" The mare snorts incredulously, before going back to inspecting the bottle. "Could still let you die alone."

"Crackle Cosette, you wound me. With how correct you are. Thank goodness one of us can actually remember things." Anon feign offense, hand to his chest, before a grin takes his face and he nestles back further into his patio chair, swirling the glass of spirits -- that looked like it could use a topping up.

"Because one of us isn't drinking all the time." She comments, tsking.

Crackle Cosette, the mare that sat beside him. With a light-green, almost desaturated fur, a bright two-tone splash of auburn that makes up her mane and tail, and a ladybug throwing leaf-daggers on her ass, she was the newest arrival to Ponyville. Not that any of the Elements knew that.

"Well, you may have very well ended up with a thousand Mares, considering." She muses, squinting down the open neck of the empty bottle.

She startles as Anon's fingers reach between them to pinch her flank, right on the ladybug.
"Hey!" She hisses, showing a little too much fang and pointed tongue, which she's quick to cover with a hoof.

"Only want the one, Bugbutt. Oh -- Ha, it's applicable in both forms, that's funny. Well, I guess that makes two forms, but... you get what I'm trying to say." Anon starts, chuckling to himself before he can figure his profound, loving statement.

Crackle rolls her eyes, looking away. "I've told you to stop descripting me as a bug, Anon. They'll catch on." She sighs, though it's a pretty weak retort.

"You've got one on your ass, bugbutt." Anon dutifully reports, pointing at it.

She slaps his hand with a hoof.
"Still. I'm not having you risk my cover for inane jokes." She whispers, glancing around. The only ponies around were Scootaloo rocketing past at a speed she definitely didn't have the caliber of brakes needed to stop, and their ancient, kindly neighbor across the way. Someone's grandma-pony.

Anon grins.

She sighs, rolling her eyes, looking away then she looks back. Still grinning like an idiot, so she looks away. Gives it a moment. Looks back again.

"Will you stop staring?" She huffs.

"Hmm? Oh, was I? Sorry." He apologizes, holding a hand up. Before continuing to stare.

She groans loudly, exhaling -- but it finally has the intended affect and breaks her demeanor, Crackle hiding under her draping mane as she glances back at him. With the lightest flush taking her cheeks, she stares back, half-hidden under her own hair.

He loved when Chrysi did that. She had these big, gorgeous eyes he just loved to stare into, no matter which form she took. It was kind of a tell, actually -- they'd slip now and then, revealing those gorgeous greenies.

"I'm, uh... getting pretty tipsy here. Wanna top up so we're still matching pace?" Anon offers, leaning off the side of his chair, nodding back to the door to their shared abode.

That piques Crackles interest, who leans off her side of her own chair.
"Already? If I didn't know better, I'd say you were more excited for it than I am."

"Maybe. There's... parts of it I enjoy." Anon reaches over again, this time pressing a finger to her nose.

Crackle blinks hard, huffing as she rises, hooves eerily silent as she parks herself beside his chair.

She raises a brow at him.

"Oh, I'm not that far gone yet. Just catch me if I trip." Anon groans, putting his empty glass aside and pushing himself to his feet, teetering.

Both pause, waiting for him to balance himself.

...

Anon exhales in soft triumph, proud of himself for not cratering into the floor, before slowly meandering towards the door. Definitely more than tipsy.

"It's only Eleven in the morning, Anon. Seriously?" She sneers, poking at his leg and watching him buckle, making him catch himself on the wall.

She giggles to herself, enjoying his difficulties. Sadistic little bug.
"If I fall --"

"I won't let you, obviously. I can't let my sole food supply get injured, can I?" She rolls her eyes, getting the door.

"I think a part of you would get real sad if I went and got hurt." Anon pouts, stumbling inside. Ah, couch. Couch good.

"Hm. Doubtful. I'd probably just prepare you a grave in advance. Perhaps bottle some of it before you expire." She continues to tease, shutting the door. Darkness sweeps over the living room -- thick, doubled curtains kept most of the natural light out, and were shut most of the time, for good reason.

"Look at you -- Hoomph -- playful now that it's feeding time." Anon grunts as he tumbles back over the couch, sprawling across it, belly up.

In the darkness, the only thing he can make out are those piercing, slit green eyes as they rise, doubling in height.

She always got more playful around feeding time. Like it was a game, like it was her time to let loose. Before Anon knows it, there's a sudden 'Whoomph', and a weight on the couch, a form leering from above him. Two, practically glowing eyes of brilliant color staring directly at him.

Something about predator, something about prey. This was basically foreplay for her, and Anon didn't mind. Not that he was getting up to much in his condition, but they had a little deal between themselves.

He feels a weight press down against his chest, and a hoof slowly trace his cheek. The eyes are inches from his face, tilted slightly, watching him. He can tell by the way they scrunch -- she's smiling.

"I wonder what flavor you'll have today..." She whispers in his ear, tongue tracing his face.

"Why don't you quit stalling and find out, Chrysi? Or you still... nervous?" Anon teases back -- he can feel her jump as his hand grasps her squishy, chitin-like rear, giving it a squeeze. And the ensuing groan of irritation.

"Hey, you remembered." Anon notes, grinning.

Those gorgeous green eyes roll.
"Yes, your preference for 'fat flanks'. Whatever makes this go smoother, and gets it over with faster."

"You say that like you don't always take your time."

"I refuse to miss even a drop. That's all." She deflects, glaring.

"Mmhm. Sure." Anon nods, snorting to himself.

"Oh, silence. I'm still a Queen." She growls. "Do you know how easily I could end you?"

"And I your loyal subject. Drain me, your majesty." Anon encourages, grinning all the while.

"...Try to be silent, this time." She mumbles. Anon doesn't comment -- he knows she's not talking to him.

He can feel her fangs press against the light linens of his shirt, sharp points pressing through the weave to poke his bare flesh.

Love was... complicated, for both of them. An Emotivore, Changelings fed on the one emotion they were denied. Love. Love, however, is a very messy thing. Happiness, sadness, longing, lust, grief, anger -- an insurmountable field of feelings and emotions all twisted to contribute to love, or its lack thereof.

So for Anon, this playful banter, this teasing, the prodding of fangs to flesh and close, intimate contact... it all added and played upon the latent feelings of love he held. Every creature, mind Changelings, holds some level of love in their heart. Those in love, experiencing the loss of it -- those with a life actively affected by love or its lacking presence were the tastiest, most nutritious meals. And Anon cared deeply for the Bug-Queen that wound up in his life.

The faintest glow takes appearance between them, slowly drifting from his body into her waiting maw -- the softest hint of pinkish light highlighting his chest, and the look of content pleasure twisting Chrysalis' face.

For Chrysalis, love was something she could grasp only for short moments. Unlike her hive that she devoted and dedicated years upon years of her life to -- she could not accept love in the same way that they could. Could not metamorphosize and evolve like they could. The original Queen birthed from the foul swamps of their origins, she was the True Changeling. She could never know peace from the unending hunger, the lack of love, the pit in her very heart. She could never find freedom from her primordial need.

Luckily for her, she could still be sated, if temporarily. Through devouring love, feasting from another living creatures emotions, she could glance upon them herself. This became especially prudent during feedings with her 'Partner' Anon.

As a Human, he bore more emotional depths then that of most Ponies around them -- which lead to a deeper, fuller feeding. He cared for her, in a way one might love another -- that sweetened and enriched the feeding. And finally, he was a horribly sappy, lovey drunk. This amplified the stores of love within him, ensuring that a feeding might leave her full.

As evident by the way he couldn't keep his hands off of her while she fed, her own body pressed against him. And as she continued to feed, drawing the love from his depths... those same hands began to inflame her feelings.

This combination is also what granted her an interest in these alcoholic spirits he enjoyed consuming. A drunk Anon was a bountiful harvest... but having cared for and rationed love for her hive for so long, Chrysalis hardly knew a full meal in the last several decades. The more emotions she consumes, the more capable of understanding, of feeling emotions she becomes.

Essentially, to feed on enough love, could help her feel her own love. Something she hadn't been capable of in a long time, and a sorely temporary experience. And if she consumed enough... she discovered she'd enter a state similar to him. Love-Drunk, which operated incredibly similarly to regular drinking; with the added bonus of feeling... feelings.

She staggers as his hands sink deeply into her oddly spongy flesh, quite unlike a Ponies fur. The pink glow fades, as a hand roughly grabs her face, thumb in her mouth.

"Mm-- Someone drank m-more than they thought." Chrysalis purrs, feeling herself pulled closer, breath hot on his face.

"Just a little bit. C'mere."

"I'm trying to feed here, Nonny." She mumbles coyly, letting herself get pulled close. She feels lips press against her snout, softly leaving kisses.

"Mmhm." He mumbles into her, kissing again. And again. Chrysalis rolls her eyes -- it's not like her meal is going anywhere. And she'd be lying if she didn't enjoy the attention.

"So fervent in the worship of your Queen..." She whispers, chittering softly, wings buzzing in amusement.

"God, I love the noises you make."

"What?" She snorts.

"That little... bug, chittery thing you do when you're happy."

"I do not chitter when I'm happy."

"Odd, you do it all the time around me. Even when you aren't feeding."

"I'm a Changeling, Nonny. We don't whinny like ponies."

"I know. I like it."

She sighs softly, eyes half-closed as he continues to knead her rear, sinking his fingers in as he drags them along her side, over her hips, grasping them firmly.

"Hm?" Chrysalis hums, curious as to his intentions.

"Want to start another hive?" Anon asks suddenly.

"I don't need a mate for that, Nonny." Chrysalis replies simply, leaving a head on a hoof.

"I've seen your renovations of the basement, buggy."

"That's my bedroom." Chrysalis deflects, glancing away.

"Strange how you always end up sleeping in my bed, then." Anon snickers.

No smarmy comment from Chrysalis this time. Instead, he feels her cheek press against his.
"...You mean that?"

"Ride or die, bugaboo. I'm just fond of... youuu~." Anon starts to get sing-songy, holding a hand in the air.

Chrysalis sighs softly, stroking his cheek with a hoof. Definitely drank more than he expected.
"...Sloshed by Noon. Whatever am I going to do with you, Nonny."

"Mmmmmmmkissmeeee." Anon helpfully offers, staring into her slitted, predatory eyes with a dumb smile.

Those glaring green eyes soften. Well, like she thought earlier, her meal wasn't going anywhere -- and one of them had to be functional, at least. She'd stop feeding for now.

She blinks in surprise at the burp that works itself out of her. Might have been a little rambunctious in her own feeding. Her chest feels... warm.

"Alright, 'tipsy'. Alphabet backwards and we'll try for a new hive." She teases, grinning at him.

"T, e, b, a, h, p, l, a." Anon states suddenly and confidently, before grabbing her ass hard, smiling.

Chrysalis blinks, blowing a raspberry.
"...Sure, close enough. Pucker up, bugbucker." She shrugs, before jamming her tongue into his mouth, pressing against him.

She can't make a hive with a human, of course. That's not even how Changelings work, really. They were born from a tree. But she knows what he actually means.

And it was an apt way to feed. Love was a very open-minded thing.

Three O'clock.

A softly sloshed Anon, sprawled on his patio chair, is joined by an equally slopped Cosette, a foot away on her own chair.

Both look messy. One smells like alcohol, but both smell like... intimate proximity.

Purple makes the rounds with another of the color crew; this time it's Orange. Both pause to give the pair an odd look, before asking if they've seen anything suspicious.

No dice, they've been... busy.

More whispering, that helps Cosette decide she needs a bath.

...In a few minutes. Being Love-Drunk leaves her mobility about as hassled as Anon's, whose just proper drunk.

She feels a hand reach out and grab her hoof, looking up to see Anon grasping for her, with that same dumb smile.

And then he turns green, almost like her fur color. Uh oh.

Author's Note

The Game

Loud, pulsing music that could make the floor shake, strobing lights, and numerous parts where everything pauses for a 'fat drop'. It was always weird to Anon how despite the odd scarcity in technology, a techno club and a DJ was one of the things that kept up. No cars, no phones -- but they knew what dubstep was.

Not really his speed, but he wasn't really here for the music or the atmosphere. The drinks, sure, but he could get more at a better price at home. No, he was here for something very specific.

The crowd. The horde of sweaty, dancing, drinking Ponies who wanted to party away a long days work. The weekend was tomorrow -- and the way these ponies were throwing it down, you'd think it was Saturday night. Probably Pinkies fault; he can see her working up one of the larger masses of dancers, all pushed right up on the stage. The DJ is throwing her head around with loud, bass-y music carrying across the club.

But she wouldn't be there. Too close to one of the Elements. Instead, his gaze flits over to the dance floor. Leaning his back against the bar, drink in hand, Anon idly sips the oddly sweet drink. Pony alcohol tasted like candy half the time, and he never quote got used to it. It's why he preferred imports.

The general, hoof-hopping and sweaty middle dance floor crowd... lots of excited, smiling Ponies bumping flanks and throwing each-other heavy, want-filled stares. A lot of attention going around... a lot of close, physical contact. She could navigate that, but she wouldn't want to here. No, not the main group.

Quiet sip, and his gaze floats towards the quieter parts of the club. Corners and booths, tables with groups. A few large pepperings of ponies chatting, but nobody looking out of place... a few were practically on each-others laps, hardly able to keep their hooves off each-other. Wasn't any of them.

They'd put a few loose rules; one of them was no replacing or doubling anybody known.

"Excuse me, Sir?" The pony working the bar perks up, sliding a drink in front of him. He glances over his shoulder at it, confused.

It was something dark, mixed with a soda. Something he actually liked.

"From the Miss down there." The barpony points, down the lengthy bar, past numerous other bar-sitting ponies.

A mare with pinkish-grey fur, a brilliant blonde mane, and a bright red dress sits near the edge of the bar, watching him from under a healthy amount of eyeliner. She waggles a hoof at him, smiling.

His interest piqued, Anon picks the drink up, rising from his seat. He maneuvers around the other drinkers, and the few dancers who've drifted too far from the dance floor, finding the open seat beside this mystery mare.

"Not often I get a drink bought for me." Anon opens, giving it a small sip. About the closest a pony could get to a rum and coke. Hm.

"You looked... lonely, the way you were searching the crowd. Thought I'd cheer you up." She hums softly, glancing down at the barstool. Inviting him to sit.

Wordlessly, he accepts the invitation, seating himself beside her and leaning on the counter.

"You look a touch overdressed for the environment. From out of town?" Anon asks, gesturing to the bright splash of color that is her dress. Well, against her own fur anyway -- half the ponies in here were competing with its saturation from fur and mane alone. Not to mention most of them weren't wearing much of anything that wasn't glowsticks, bracelets or other minor accessories.

"Guilty as charged. From Manehatten, waiting for the next train to whisk me further for a show in Vanhoover." She explains, sipping at her own drink; looks more like an ice-cream sundae than it does a proper drink. "Though, wearing something seems to be something we have in common."

"A Mare with a show? Sorry if I don't recognize you, I'm still working on identifying different ponies, though you're making it pretty easy with how effortlessly you stand out. What's your butt-designated talent?" Anon asks innocently.

She stifles a laugh, looking at him funny, glancing down at her own flank that's covered by her dress. "Singing, if you couldn't guess. I was hoping my pitstop here in Ponyville would grant me a chance for a quiet, classy show, but..." She trails off, blowing bubbles in her drink.

"No comfy little clubs here, I feel you. Was considering opening my own at some point, if I end up saving enough." Anon nods, understanding.

"Really? Craving the more classical? Or you more of a jazz kind of..." She trails off, her eyes roaming up and down his figure.

"Human. Was thinking about one of those cozy places, let a few local, a few visiting bands play their flavors... always surprised me that a quiet town like Ponyville leaned so hard on..."

Both glance back at the DJ, before sharing a knowing look.
"Well, I'm glad to meet a kindred spirit. Maroon Marionette, not-quite-as-famous-as-I-thought Singer." She smiles, holding out a hoof.

"Delighted to meet you, Marionette. Anon the Human -- don't take it personally. You look like you could knock a room dead with your vocal exercises alone, so don't mind my ignorance." Anon returns, meeting her hoof gently, kissing the top of it. She maintains a solid eye contact, smiling softly.

"Well, you aren't one of the fifty Apples offering me a Dowry to stay in town with them, so I'll take your word for it." She laughs softly.

"Seriously? Didn't even know the other Apples were in town." Anon huffs, shaking his head.

"All preparing for a harvest, or so the twenty or so suitors assured me how they'd still have time for me despite it. It's sweet, but..." She trails off, poking her drink.

"Something tells me you're well used to that kind of approach. Otherwise, you wouldn't be buying strange creatures drinks." Anon muses, watching her idly toy with her mostly untouched purchase.

Maroon leans a little closer, her gaze heavy.
"Truthfully, my interests may lead to the more... exotic. The unusual."

Anon, in turn, leans closer, the two inching ever so slightly together.
"And you're looking for it in back-country bumpkin towns?"

She sighs softly, toying with the straw sticking out of her drink.
"Looking for something while on the road, I suppose. Fame, fortune... all leads to boredom. Just stallions that want bragging rights or colts who think I'm pretty, before they've even gotten my name."

"Nobody who gets to know you for you, huh? The mare under that dress, on her days off?" Anon gestures to her.

"Under the dress...?" She trails off, raising a brow.

Anon only smiles.
"What do you like to do when you aren't performing? You like to catch other ponies performances, or you hiding a secretive, scandalous hobby?"

"A curious creature, aren't you?" She hums, deflecting. She inches closer.

"Human's have a knack for being nosy. Call me Curious George." Anon grins widely, leaning right in her face, almost nose to nose.

"Call you... huh?" She startles slightly, blinking as he nears.

"Got you, Ladybug." Anon states firmly, poking her nose.

Her soft, playful face scrunches in frustration, hoof banging against the bar countertop, rattling her drink.
"Damnit, Nonny. I told you none of your stupid Earth references. I can't work off those."

Anon glances up the bar, ensuring their neighbors are thoroughly distracted. The loud music helps, as Anon leans close to her ear.
"That was pretty good, otherwise. You been workshopping Maroon Marionette?"

"For a few days now. Had to find a map to get my cities lined up, get a feel for Manehatten performers. Berry Punch had a few news clippings she didn't mind forking over. But did Manehatten or Vanhoover throw you off?" Maroon asks, pushing her drink away and scrunching her face after a final testing sip. "I'll never understand how they like that stuff."

Anon chuckles, shrugging.
"No clue. I've been here for how long, and I don't even know what the continent looks like. All I know is Canterlot is west-ish, and the Crystal Empire is north."

"Way to help me refine my covers, Nonny." Maroon rolls her eyes. "How'd you figure me?"

"Barely touched your drink was my biggest clue. These ponies hoover sugar like nobodies business." Anon offers.

"Ugh, tell me about it. I don't eat, period, and I have to keep regurgitating it later just to pass." She grumbles.

"...Can I --" Anon starts, but a hoof in his face pauses him.

"No, you can't watch me regurgitate, Nonny. That's disgusting." Maroon retorts quickly.

Anon hums softly, grinning at her, catching some annoyance from the red-dressed Mare in disguise.
"What?"

"You're calling me Nonny again." He says smugly.

"W-h--and? What does that matter?" Maroon squints.

"You used to say it only when you were feeding. Someone's catching feelings." Anon teases, leaning closer. Maroon was the size of the average pony, like Cosette -- which meant he could lean over her, something he couldn't really do when she was full-sized. Chrysalis picks up on this, tilting her head back to keep eye-contact as he looms over her playfully.

"Oh, shut up." She rolls her eyes, smacking his chest with a hoof. Said hoof he grabs before it can recoil, kissing it softly.

"Good choice on the drink, though. Tasty." Anon compliments. She doesn't pull her hoof away just yet.

"Thought you'd like that. You often whined about your Rum and Cokes of Earth." Maroon explains.

"Aw, you do listen to my whining, despite your claims of ignorance." Anon sighs dreamily, irritating Maroon further.
"Alright, so what do I win?" Anon leers.

Maroon frowns, glaring at him defiantly.
"You tripped me up with your stupid references. Doesn't count."

"Puh-leaze. I had you pinned the moment you bought me a drink." Anon counters.

"Pfft. Bullshit." Maroon shuts him down firmly.

"...Alright, it took me a little bit, but I still had you figured out." Anon presses nonetheless.

"You're going to pester me until you get something out of this, aren't you?" Maroon sighs, tilting her head.

Anon just smiles widely, Maroon figuring there was no way out of this.

Maroon groans, blinking slowly.
"Fine. What?"

"This." Anon says simply, reaching out for her. Maroon's eyes widen in surprise as she's pulled directly against him, chest to barrel, his mouth to hers. His tongue slips past her plush lips, Maroon's head angled up and back from their close proximity and nearly doubled height difference.

"Mm-Mpmph?!" Maroon mumbles, eyes wide, glaring a hole through him. Her hooves grab at his shirt, pulling him closer, meeting his sudden affection in an angry, potentially passionate return.

"Hey, hey. Get a room." One of the barkeeps notices, smacking the counter a few times with a hoof, forcing their parting.

Maroon wipes at the saliva string that pulls from their lips, huffing with wide eyes. Her usual means of feeding wasn't the only way to get Love into her, even if it was the purest form of transaction. But something like this? She still got a kick from it. Like a teasing appetizer.

"...Home?" Anon offers, looping an arm around Maroon.

"You take Maroon back home, and they'll start asking questions to Cosette about your flagrant flinging." Maroon retorts, shaking her head.

"That would be kind of funny." Anon snorts.

"...Subjecting the local snoops to fervent wonderings about you and Cosette's relationship?" Maroon mumbles, tapping her chin... before leaning into Anon's side, a wide grin settling on her face. "Twilight is certainly keeping an eye on you, and it would be somewhat amusing... but no, I'm not willing to damage my cover for a laugh, even if it was at the Princess' prized pupil's expense." She sighs, rolling her head upwards to stare at him.

Anon smiles down at her, sneaking a kiss on her nose that makes her face scrunch.
"Safe to assume Maroon already booked a room somewhere?"

"Maybe. She has to stay somewhere while she waits for tomorrow's train." Maroon shrugs, playing it off. "Question is... will she be spending that night alone?" She continues, rubbing against him, a hoof pressing against his stomach.

"And whose money did you use to book that? Or for buying me a drink?" Anon chuckles, Maroon's coy face swapping to one of annoyance in a snap as the pair head for the club doors.

"Oh, shut up, Nonny. You're shit at this." She groans.

Author's Note

Meanie Bug

"...Anon, what are you reading?" A hoighty-toighty voice scoffs behind a hoof.

Anon has gotten used to having the curtains pulled tight, with little to no natural light outside of sunbathing on his patio or walking to work. Numerous lamps around the house helped counteract this -- the big, green bug he shared his house with didn't mind any lighting condition, but it was a comfort to not need to worry about snoopy, peeping ponies.

It was a small town. They were all pretty nosy.

"Oh, is it that disgusting barely-disguised smut you've taken to? I don't understand how you can stomach that stuff." The voice continues, chuckling to herself.

Currently, he's trying to enjoy one of the numerous ripoff books he's found, borrowed from Twilight. Like their culture and technology, most of it seems to be an adjacent copy or mimicry of things from earth.

Not that he was complaining. They had a good selection of alcohol thanks to that. Of which, he was currently enjoying at a slow pace, trying to relax during his evening before he had work tomorrow.

"Wait, you're how far into this? Are you trying to tell me something, Anon?" More mocking laughter.

Small problem. Or, big problem with a judgemental pair of big, slitted green eyes. Queen of No-Bugs was curled up on the couch beside him, snooping his pages over his shoulder.

A book he'd grabbed because the cover looked interesting. Which, turns out, was a mare-focused smut book about being swept off ones hooves by a big, muscle-bound alicorn, ruling an Equestria-Adjacent kingdom. Basically a gender bent Celestia with every third sentence mentioning his sheath.

"Would you prefer Big Mac over Maroon? Or are you going to try and ask for Rainbow Dash again? I could give her the... equipment you seem to be searching for." She barely manages to utter, before snorting into teasing laughter.

Yes, he was halfway through the book despite not being it's target audience. Yes, the bug wasn't letting him live it down.

"I can't believe you're still reading that drivel!" She just won't let up, holding her face close, giving him a coy look. She wipes a tear away, clearly enjoying this a little too much.

"Sure am." Anon sighs, trying to flip to the next page. Chrysalis stops him with a hoof, tut-tutting.

"Stem your eagerness, Anon, I wasn't done reading this part yet." She says, barely stifling a chortle.

Anon groans, his head rolling back against the couch, shooing her hoof away with a hand.
"You're free to get your own reading material, you know. There's a whole library of the things, if you cared to get out of the house once in a while."

"Puh-leaz. Like I'd want to go near that annoying Element of Ass-Kissing, even in disguise. I'll settle for what... choice fiction you've chosen to grace our household with. Seriously, though. Trying to tell me something?" She leers, grinning, sharp fangs proudly on display as she enjoys the moment.

"...The Rainbow Dash thing was just out of curiosity. I mean, you offered, and I was asking for clarification --" Anon protests, the bugs face inching closer to an outburst before electing another laugh from the oversized bug-pony.

"Delightful excuse." Chrysalis shakes her head, grinning with those wide fangs.
"I'm sure she'll believe it."

Ignoring her jests, Anon tsks.
"You could also... buy books. From the book store. If you got a job." Anon laments, with a particularly pungent side-eye. It's unfortunately easily deflected by the Queen of Sarcasm, who scoffs at the very notion.

"I've spent the last several centuries caring for my hive, ensuring its success through stout and firm leadership. That they were fed, cared for, safe... strong. Now? Oh, no. I'm enjoying this... recuperation, this... vacation before I commence my ambitious plans again, and start a new hive. In the meantime, I shall drain you dry of your funds, and your love, until I am appeased and ready to resume my machinations." Chrysalis expounds, waving a hoof around as she speaks coldly, and firmly. Yet, the entire time, there's a smile plastered on her face no matter how cruelly it twists into a furrowed grin.

"Not the only thing you drain dry..." Anon snorts, just barely above a whisper.

Loud enough to be heard, apparently, as Chrysalis pauses amidst her devious ramble. She coughs, glancing away.
"...I suppose. It's an unfortunate necessity, as it tends to... increase your output."

"Ah, I'm sure that's the only reason." Anon agrees mockingly, to Chrysalis' distaste.

"W-What are you implying? You're a food source and part of my cover here, Anon, nothing more. Try not to forget that." She retorts, snout tilted up.

"Riiiiight, that's all this is. A meal and a place to stay." Anon rolls his eyes, flipping to a new page of his book, feigning interest in it's words.

"Obviously." She agrees, a small silence falling between the two.

Chrysalis fidgety slightly, glancing at him as he reads.

"...Definitely unrelated to how your mind-control magic doesn't work on me." Anon adds suddenly, forcing a frown from the once-queen bug.

"W-well, that is completely unrelated --" She stammers, but Anon doesn't let up.

"Remember when I found you pulling the curtains in the living room, peeking out of them?" Anon snorts, only further fluttering Chrysalis as she roughly shifts around to face him; it's not a particularly large couch, so she practically ends up half-laid on his lap, knocking his book aside. Not his drink though, thankfully.

"I told you to stop bringing that up!" She growls, fangs barred and jabbing at him with a hoof.
"While I might not be able to drill into that overtly dense dome that you intend to call a skull, you're quick to forget how I could smear the walls with you."

"Mm -- sounds tempting. Does smearing me come before or after you bother me to scratch the spot under your wings?" Anon teases, leaning on the back of the couch.

"It's the least you can do, after forcing me to put up with you all day." She retorts quickly. Ah, her hearts not in it. She's faltering, Anon figures.

"You know what I think, Bug-Butt?" Anon asks aloud, leaning closer.

"I don--" Chrysalis goes to retort, before a finger and a thumb press her snout closed, blinking as she's caught off guard.

"I think... some-bug had to resort to more traditional means of wooing, since your brain-magics didn't quite pan out..." Anon slowly explains, leaning directly beside her. His mouth is inches from hers, speaking softly.

Chrysalis glares, brow furrowed as he continues.

"...And that certain some-bug ended up a little deeper in than they expected to be." Anon continues, slowly letting go of her snout.

Chyrsalis stares at him for a long moment, the glare sat firmly on her face, as Anon's dumb smile stares right back.

"...I've told you I can't feel love, Anon." She says bluntly. Dryly. There's almost a somber acceptance to the words, why she's the only one of her hive still left.

She's the Prime Changeling. She can't accept love like the others could.

"Mmhm... you keep telling yourself that, Sweetheart." Anon whispers, planting a soft kiss against the spongey chitin of her neck.

"Sweetheart?" Chrysalis scoffs, head tilted back to stare down her nose at him.

Anon continues to tenderly press his lips against her ichor-black chitin, moving down to her chest. His hand, once holding her mouth, now traces along her cheek with a thumb.

She's always been strange to touch; her mane has a rougher, denser texture. Her chitin is hard but spongey, giving it an oddly contrasting softness and letting his fingers sink in a little. The squishiest parts of her have this almost gel-like consistency.

Her look of muted annoyance is slowly ramping up to proper, visible irritation as Anon sighs, pressing against her.

Chrysalis quickly covers her mouth with a hoof as she tries to turn away, stifling an unwanted 'urp'.
"Dont you -- heugh -- dare force-feed me! I've warned you of my distaste for this!"

"Oh don't worry, I'm quite fond of dis-taste." Anon jokes, muffled against her.

"...You didn't just actually say that, did you?" She mutters, but no proper response is given. He's too busy tracing a hand against her barrel, now kissing just below her ear. It flickers in displeasure, but the Bug-Queen is having difficulty pulling away.

Ear flicking, she tries to scowl and snarl at him -- but the moment she faces him, his lips graduate from her neck, to hers. Much like her chitin, there's a squishy hardness to them; normally meant to guard wicked fangs, not to be tenderly and gently met with another curious, brash pair of lips. Said fangs gatekeep an almost snake-like tongue that's rather hesitant to show itself at this moment.

Hooves grab Anon's shoulders, as they push him back, separating the two. A panting, wild-eyed Chrysalis is looking him over. Not her usual look.

"Everything alright?" Anon asks, a touch startled.

"Why?" Chrysalis asks simply. It's strained. She's avoiding meeting his eyes.

"You... haven't asked to feed in a while, and I thought I was being playful. Too far?" Anon asks, a touch concerned.

Another small silence hangs over the quiet room, as Chrysalis sighs.

"...Are you stupid?" She finally asks. It doesn't have her usual, playful sting to it.

"With the amount of percentage-based liquids I choose to put in my body over water? Probably. Why?" Anon asks.

"I'm not joking, Anon. I can't feel love. All my body does is process it, and the emotions are exuded as my body handles it. You aren't slowly winning me over, or making me fall for you." She states bluntly, her slit-eyed gaze finally meeting his.

Anon is silent, listening.

"I'm using you. I'm not a cute little stray you rescued. Your foolish desire to continually ignore my warnings, trying to foster... something that isn't there that can never be there. You're a fool, a useful cover, and an abundant food source." She continues, leaning closer.

"Nothing. More. Do you understand? When I'm done with you, you'll be dead. Emptied of your emotions. A withered husk." She states again.

"...Mhm." Anon's lips purse, nodding.

"...Fucking 'Mhm'?" She parrots, scoffing.
"I tell you I'm trying to kill you and that's your response? Are you trying to die? I'm not even in your head, you idiot. This is just..." Chrysalis trails off.

"You think I drink like this to live longer?" Anon laughs, catching Chrysalis off guard.

Suddenly, Anon's hands slowly sliding along the extended hooves of the Bug-Queen, wrapping around her as he falls backwards across the couch, pulling her with him. She can hardly utter a noise before she's already pulled in close against his chest, Anon's hand tracing her back. For the moment, she's still, caught off guard.

"I'm well aware, Chrysalis." He says simply, his words partially muffled as he speaks into her mane.
"I'll not deny you your nature. If you choose to, wring me dry like a wet towel and toss me aside for a fresh one." He continues, surprisingly flatly for the statement. Before Chrysalis can cut in, however, he continues.
"Yet, I can't help but doubt what you say. After all... no mind control, no advantage in doing so... yet here you are, trying to warn me. Asking me why I'd choose to get close to such a dangerous, lonely little bug."

"Little?" She huffs.

A small kiss on her forehead, just below her twisted horn. His hand gently takes her chin, nudging her to look at him.
"You might not believe yourself of anything different. You're quite the unique case, after all... but I'll believe in you, even if you don't. Even if it's the foolish choice that leads me to my grisly, naive end, I'll still believe in you, Chrysi." He says softly, smiling.

She only stares, exhaling quietly.
"...You're a fool."

"Your fool, until you choose to toss me aside." Anon responds simply. The smile never drops.

Her head rests against his chest, listening to the quiet thumping of his heart. She's the Prime Changeling, the Queen. She cannot feel love in ways other creatures so easily can. There's a motherly instinct to protect her hive, a self-interested desire to safeguard her own protection, and the desire to ensure a stable food source.

...Why didn't she protest being Lonely?

Chrysalis feels Anon's hand gently trawl through her mane, fingers idly scratching at her scalp, just the way she likes it.

Why did she explain that? Why did she try to warn him?

Chrysalis felt... unsure. Too many things changed when her hive converted. Nothing made sense anymore.

...But she was fond of the warmth this body tended to put off, and the attention never hurt. Perhaps she should... delay creating a new hive, for the short-term, until things are clearer.

Yes. That was the strategically sound choice for now. She shouldn't make any moves with the Elements still looking for her. That's all.

For now, she'd focus on something else short-term. Like the hand that had been tracing her side, and how it was now trying to grab a handful of her flank.

"You're ridiculous." She states bluntly, leveling her gaze at him.

"Bad time?" Anon grins.

"...No." She rolls her eyes, climbing atop of him, pressing her nose to his. Her mouth slowly widens into a fanged smile, as it presses against his neck, tongue tracing his skin.

"I'm still hungry."