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