To Fix those Who are Broken
Let me introduce myself, I am a changeling named Carbon Copy. I am a survivor of the battle where our Queen met her defeat, and I am aware of the anathema currently in place against our kind. Months after the fact, I am here to say that there is hope. For the first time in changeling history, we can choose our own paths.
We are finally free. No longer is there a hive mind directive, taking precedence over our actions. Death to the collectivist ideal! We can now act as individuals and be defined by our own merits, instead of the agenda of our Queen.
No longer will a doctrine of hate be imposed upon us. No more forced conformity. A world of opportunity and peril now awaits us. If you’re reading this, you’ve probably heard of me and know a little bit about my story.
I have written this as a rallying call to the changeling species. We are not the monsters we have been made out to be….
Love-starved… Not in the way a lonely bachelor would describe himself, but literally starved. We changelings need love to survive. Not to sound like some sappy hippy, but we feed off of it. Love actually has nutritional value to us. It has four calories per milligram absorbed, the equivalent of a dietary carbohydrate for a pony.
You would think that we changelings would have the art of love down pat, but we sure as hell didn’t. There was little room for love in the travails of the Swarm. The system was cold and unfeeling, rearing changelings like machines being produced in a factory. Our roles were determined by our status at birth: soldier, scientist, or a drone.
Most of us didn’t even have names, since we were snatched away from our mothers the moment we were born. As you can see, it was impossible to find love in the hive. There was no concept of it in our culture or language. It was considered a mark of weakness, and this is why we attacked the pony kingdom. We fancied ourselves above the idea of loving each other, so we had to steal it from others. This was the fatally flawed ideology that Queen Chrysalis instilled in us, and upon her dethronement, I took it upon myself to find an alternative.
Now that I have, I wish to share it.
Let me tell you the tale of how Carbon Copy found solace and love.
.....
I was lost, injured, and starving. It was a few days after the great battle, and the memories of my fellow changelings being killed were fresh on my mind.
All those changelings did not deserve the fate that befell them. Queen Chrysalis was the only one to blame. We may have been the aggressors, the ponies acting in self-defense, but we were only following orders. It was all we knew.
“There is no individual,” Queen Chrysalis’ voice echoed in his head. “There is only the cause.”
Our cause was destroyed, having been flawed in the first place. And now thinking for myself for the first time, I wandered through the forest looking for nourishment. I was half-dead, and tears filled my eyes. I was so scared.
If only somepony could give me a chance… I could show them that I was worthy of their love, instead of trying to coerce it from them.
All I needed was a little affection. Anypony would do.
I sighed, talking to myself. “Carbon Copy is just a shadow of a pony, doomed to wander for eternity, belonging nowhere.”
As soon as my words faded on the wind, I heard a pony moaning in pain.
Feeling weak from starvation, I felt compelled to investigate.
Crawling through the underbrush, I saw a young stallion lying against the trunk of a tree. He was a mud-brown earth pony with a black mane. He was moaning in agony, bottles of an unknown liquid surrounding him.
He needed help, and in my heart, I felt hope for a good meal. Noticing that he was asleep, I drew nearer. The stallion was drenched in sweat, pale as a sheet, and was trembling fiercely. “Are you sick?” I asked the stallion, and he only moaned in response.
I was close enough to the stallion when I realized what he was doing here. The bottles contained morphine or heroin in liquid form. He had a rope tied around the upper part of his fore-leg, constricting the blood flow. In his hoof, there was a needle which was still half-full of the drug he had injected himself with.
Looking around, I realized that there was enough heroin here to knock out a dragon. How long had this stallion intended to stay here, strung out on the narcotic?
Initially, I wanted to help the stallion and allow him to love me. He was suffering from withdrawal, and was in pain. He had failed to give himself the full intended dose, and was still unconscious when the drug wore off. And now, his damaged brain craved for more, unable to feel at ease without it.
It was then I saw the letter lying on the ground beside the stallion.
Perhaps it would provide a clue to who this stallion was and where he lived.
Opening up the plain letter, he began to read. On the top, it detailed his identity, residence address, and the name of his wife and filly daughter.
Reading a little further, I realized that this stallion had never intended to return home. This was a suicide letter, and he had tried to overdose on the heroin. At first, I felt sympathy for this troubled stallion who was about to take his own life. My mind filled with idea on how I could return him to his family, help him overcome his addiction and suicidal feelings… but then I read further.
The letter wasn’t meant to be apologetic or sorrowful, it was full of hate and anger. He was lashing out against all those who had loved him. He cursed his wife and four year old daughter, saying that he would rather be dead than to live with them. He detailed how he had spent the family’s remaining savings on drugs and booze, and wanted to take back all that he had given them.
I felt a moment of empathy, wondering how I would feel if I were the mare who this letter was intended for. The stallion who I loved with all my being had killed himself, and had blamed his death on me. I would be devastated. My heart would be so broken that I couldn’t possibly hope to ever love again. The poor filly who was his daughter would be traumatized for the rest of her life. They would now live in poverty, forever reminded of what he had done.
What kind of stallion would do this to his own family?
I threw the letter on the ground, unable to understand. This degree of selfishness was foreign and abhorrent to me, having never encountered it in the Hive. It filled me with anger.
Instead of even attempting to fix things in his life, he was taking the cowardly way out. He was abandoning the daughter who needed him, and the wife who loved him despite his addiction. And if that letter were to ever reach them, it would damage them beyond repair.
This stallion did not deserve to have two ponies who loved him so much. He did not deserve the role of a father and husband that he had been given. The letter had even suggested that he had physically harmed them.
“You don’t deserve to live,” he whispered to the stallion.
I positioned myself over him, and wrapped my black, indented hooves around his neck. I squeezed with all the force I had in my body and the stallion awoke. He struggled as I choked him, desperately trying to breathe. “I am merely finishing what you intended to do to yourself!”
He struck me across the face, but I held firm. “Your family would be better off without you!” I screamed. “All you’ve caused them is pain and suffering!”
He hissed defiantly. “My family is nothing without me. They’ll lose everything…” I strengthened my grip, and pressed even harder.
The stallion flailed for a bit, but soon his movements became slower and less dramatic. In a minute, he had grown completely still.
I released my grip, and his corpse slumped down onto the bottles of drugs.
I collapsed beside him, exhausted. I looked into his brown eyes, which were still glazed open with defiance. He was right though. His family needed him, and now he was dead. How would they survive? Even though he was terrible, they loved him and depended on him to be there.
An idea popped up in my head.
I began to transform. It felt like my skin was stretching, enlarging itself. My glossy, black skin grew brown fur on it. My smooth, horned head changed to resemble the skeletal structure of the stallion that lay before me. Black hair sprouted from my head, and my eyes went from blue to brown.
When I found the strength to stand again, I was a replica of the stallion lying dead before me. Now equipped with powerful earth pony hooves, I began to dig. An hour later, a six foot hole had been excavated.
Covered in dirt, and cringing from hunger pangs, I dragged the stallion’s corpse into the hole. I threw all his drugs, and the wretched letter in with him. I turned around and began to kick the mound of dirt into the hole. Soon, there was no trace of the stallion ever being there. All was left was a plot of dirt with the grass torn up over it.
Having memorized the stallion’s name and place of residence, I began to trot there. This new body would take some getting used to, but I felt the raw, masculine hormones rushing through my veins. The hot blood, the beat of my strong heart, and the thump of my hooves against the ground was immensely satisfying. In another’s pony’s body, I felt truly alive.
Surveying my new body, I found that this stallion was very well endowed. For some reason, that made me feel a rush of pride. Perhaps it was the knowledge that I was more than capable of making a mare melt with ecstasy that made me feel this way.
Soon, my mind began to fill with other ordinary stallion thoughts. All changelings are genderless, but I was always drawn to the bold personas and physical builds of stallions. It felt good to be a stallion, and to know that you were needed. For the first time in my life, I felt significant.
I drew out of the forest and wandered into the quaint town called “Ponyville.” It was very early in the morning, but there were some guards patrolling the outskirts. I knew they would have killed me if I were still in my changeling form. I was safe, but I still felt nervous around them.
Trotting through the cobblestone street, the smell of pastries being cooked in the local bakery wafted in the air. My stomach rumbled. I’ve always wondered how pony food tastes like.
Arriving at a wooden cabin still at the outskirts of town, he stood in the front yard. It was modest, but it was the stallion’s home. My home now.
I trotted up to the door and gave it a firm knock.
The wood rattled on impact, and I waited patiently. The sound of movement could be heard from inside, and I could tell that it was a mare’s cautious step. She knew it was her husband, and she was frightened.
The door opened up, and I beheld the mare who was my wife. She had a straw blonde mane, a beige, earthy colored pelt, and had timid green eyes. “You’ve been gone for two days…” she whispered. She looked her husband over, realizing the difference in his presence. It was then I saw the large bruise mark on her cheekbone, as if somepony had struck her. Swallowing my unease, I smiled at her, a pure and genuine grin. The way a husband should after he sees his wife after a long day. She gasped. “You look so different… and you’re not drunk.”
I smiled again and leaned forward, kissing her in the doorway. She had flinched but quickly relented, melting as I held her lovingly. “I have been a bad father and husband,” I whispered in her ear. She became very still, listening. “But I promise you, that I will be better from now on.”
I drew away from her, and saw an expression of pure happiness on her face. She looked down shyly, blushing. “You haven’t held me like that for years.” She smiled again, tears in her eyes. I could feel my belly filling with sweet, nourishing love. I beamed with happiness, and she continued. “I have been questioning myself for years, wondering where our marriage went wrong. I blamed myself….”
“Shhh….” I whispered, nuzzling her with my snoot. “The fault was mine, and I will make things right again.”
The mare’s tears had now become a steady flow, sobbing with joy. She leapt into my hooves, wrapping me in a warm embrace. “I love you,” she whispered.
I had never received so much love in such a short time in my entire changeling life. I held her tightly. “I love you more.” Pure happiness coursed through me, not only from having a full stomach, but having finally found a place where I was loved and appreciated. I have finally found the place where I belong….
Looking over my wife’s shoulder, I saw a little filly standing in the hallway. She was rubbing sleep out of her eyes, her stuffed giraffe doll in her hoof. So that is my new daughter, I thought. She looks just like me.
My heart swelling with fatherly pride, I beckoned the little filly. She reluctantly drew closer, but she noticed something. “Who are you?” she asked.
Fear pierced my happiness, but I remained steady. I smiled at the filly. “I am your father, of course.”
She looked at the stallion before her, analyzing him. Foals could sense things adults couldn’t. Somewhere deep down, she knew that this wasn’t her real father. But she smiled regardless, and rushed over to me.
She clung to my leg, looking up at me with her bright brown eyes. “Daddy!” she cried joyously. “I made a drawing. Do you want to see it?”
I nodded, relieved and gladdened by her acceptance. I trotted inside, following her. My new wife closed the door behind her, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll make some pancakes for all of you,” she said cheerily, going into the kitchen.
I was too busy playing with my beautiful daughter to hear her. I’m going to grow fat with love here, and I will return the favor tenfold. Looking over her drawing, I beamed. It was a crudely drawn picture of a cabin, with three ponies standing outside, smiling and hugging. It was of them standing outside their house.
I leaned down and whispered to her. “You finally have the father you deserve, and your mother is finally happy again.”
My daughter looked up at me, grinning. “I love you, daddy.”
I grinned, kissing her forehead. “I love you too.”
His wife brought out a giant platter of pancakes, smothered in butter and syrup. They all sat down together, and began to eat. It turns out that this body needs nourishment to be maintained as well. I now possessed this stallion’s DNA as well as his own versatile changeling genetics.
Looking all around, I couldn’t help but notice how happy everypony was. And it was all because of me. It remained that way for many months, up to the current moment I am writing this letter. I saw my daughter go to school for the first time, I impregnated my wife, I found a job and my family has money once again. I have found my place, and I urge other changelings to do as I have done.
There are ponies out there who have been given lives that they do not deserve. Do not hesitate to take it from them. If you see a pony suffering at the hooves of another, don’t be afraid to step in and assimilate. This is the new changeling way. Eliminate bad ponies and substitute yourself in their place. Give their families and friends the pony they so rightly deserve.
This is Carbon Copy, signing off for the last time.
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After posting this comment, I shall read the story.
Inspired by Owl City's song from the album: Ultraviolet; This Isn't The End.
I had to. I love Owl City. Also, your bio thing is also from one of his songs. I don't remember which though...
I like this idea. I congratulate you for a great story. And continue to love Owl City. He's amazing.
You outright diss the positives of having a mental empathy link like what the hive mind can be. Collective decisions are far better on an average than individual ones. What we have here is a waste of that bond by Chrysalis' propaganda. Regardless the cause Chrysalis made them have having a purpose and being united as one with the others like a family is a great and positive thing to have. Conviction is generally good. Perhaps if changelings could choose who to establish this link with this would be better.
This is an interesting idea, and it's well-executed. Faved.
That very interesting concept and you can make absurdaly good story if for example you will make one changeling who took place of pony who looked like bad one but wasn't. With even that simple concept you can make so much
4813901
Yes, I am a big fan of Owl City. And yes, this story was inspired by that song.
I think my bio quote was either from "The Real World" or "Dreams Don't Turn to Dust".
4814074 I remember now! It was The Real World!
4814014
This story is the first in a collection. I am already working on a sequel, so perhaps soon I will write something like that.
I have to admit that I like this concept. This was a great read and I hope to see more of this in the future.
Liked and Faved
wow this good can't wait for the sequel. this gets a like fav and follow so I know when the next ones done.
You should make this a series.
Its odd to have the term hippie used by an equestrian.
Only complaint really.
4814422
... But they exist in MLP canon.
I want more of this please!
4814515
Oh? Mustafa missed it then.
My mistake.
4814421
It is a series. There will be sequels with the same concept
Good changeling story, I read the bit about not a monster, and winked at the screen saying "some of us are, and I know where this is going."
I felt there was a bit of a disconnect when C.C. blamed all his troubles on Chrysalis then told the other guy to man the fuck up, and accept responsibility for his actions though. We could probably use more explanation of the nature of C.C.'s involvement in the invasion. Was he a soldier? Did he have military training? Or was he a conscripted citizen? Such explanation would relate his mindset of the circumstances he found himself in.
...WOAH!!! That...that was awesome!! Mind you, dark, thematic, and ultimately exploring a concept that would further the idea of Equestria being a land of Harmony without causing the rulers to become too controlling or tyrannical!! There will always be bad folks out there, but having an external force, who's survival benefits from the bad's removal, their taking the place of the bad, and THEN doing right where the bad did wrong? ....yeah, I like this idea alot!
Glad you wrote this and hope someone goes further with this, if not yourself.
Take care and great work!
this story really touched my heart, i really wish this could happen in real life. my best friend sister does not deserve to have kids, and neither does the husband, they already know about drugs they already know about sex they are so young too, and all I see is fighting over custody and they have no home to live in
you did great for your first one-chapter story and I can't wait to see more of it
mrwgifs.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/Huge-Academy-Award-Worthy-Clapping-MRW-Gif.gif
This was a very good concept, and more stories like this could be interesting.
There is something you should consider:
The story is told using the first person perspective, but switches to third person at times. Try to keep it consistent. Your stories will flow much smoother.
This is a very VERY good concept, and I hope you do well with it. However, at the same time, i hope you play with it. Carbon's note to all changelings, telling them to assimilate as a "bad pony" so that said changeling can turn things around and removing the original from the picture... I would love for you to play that. Of course, in this story, there's no doubt this particular stallion was a scumbag. But, i'm sure not all cases are black and whilte. It would be very interesting if a changeling assimilated and found out things were stacked against him, or that the pony in question had deep seated issues or outside forces manipulating his actions.
Hell, there once was a movie called INK that I watched a while back. It was about a man who lost his wife, and all he had then was his daughter and his career. The stress of everything going on caused him to take up drinking, which caused him to be abusive towards other family members, such as his wife's parents, and begin to neglect his daughter. Along with that, though, there were outside forces at work, filling his head with negativity, suggesting to him that all he should ever care about is his career and everything else means nothing and is indeed at fault for his negative feelings.
I dunno. Just a thought. I can't wait to see more, and I really hope you experiment with your story concept.
4814986 I think there's a difference. The stallion had done this of his own violation. Carbon Copy couldn't disobey Chrysalis.
Also, changeling society, in this story anyways, seems to be more about the many instead of one. To be so selfish would be disgusting to a changeling.
4815907
What I am suggesting is explaining why these things are things, as well as these things that you are telling me in your response, could be better clarified and would add a great deal of depth to the story. All with a few simple lines added here or there to help build a connection of continuity.
For example: The taking of a life is almost always considered a monstrous act, how does the character rectify his feelings of that? By doing the family a favor? For the good of a whole unit (as you're suggesting in your response) Was the changeling conditioned to place the whole before the individual? Even if it was, there's no real indication of it, and also no indication of when such conditioning could have occurred. (EX: "In the army we were taught to put our unit first, and this asshole can't even do that for his family.")
For the disconnect between the actions in canterlot, and himself, nothing to distinguish himself as separate from them. No "just following orders" or anything to that effect. So when he says it's Chrysalis's fault, he doesn't explain why she is to blame for his actions.
4815907
You were right on the mark with your comment. With the hive mind, a changeling could not disobey Chrysalis' orders. As I said, it's all about the cause, not the individual. Selfishness is an aberration in the eyes of a collectivist nation such as the changelings.
I truly enjoyed this story. It was an interesting take on a what a changeling would do in pony society. As well, while the world is usually neither black or white, I take great delight, when I see wrongs that have been made right. Keep up the good writing.
4816319
Ill make a Small reply...
Im going to Infer that, Considering the Hive Mind idea as a whole, The Queen is a Puppetmaster while all the others are simply puppets, doing as she commands, with either a "Do it Willingly, Or be a Passenger in your own body." That makes me Assume that, with his Comment of "It's All Chrysalis' Fault," It Very Well Is, as the Puppetmaster.
This was pretty good and well written in Carbon's POV. I do suggest you keep the story in first person rather than break to 2nd now and again as it gets a little confusing at first, but otherwise looking forward to see other tales you have coming
If you really sit and think about these lines, they have a sinister sort of meaning about them. I mean, think about it... He's telling changelings that if they decide a pony doesn't deserve their life, don't hesitate to kill them and take over their role. What can go wrong with that, you ask?
EVERYTHING.
Great story tho!
HHHHHYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAH!
I loved entire thing. but I feel that too much of his new life was left out. can we get another story with those lost months?
Loved it, but it was too short.
Good premise, lots of potential. But there are a couple things about this that just feel weird. In particular The characterization you're giving the hivemind and Carbon Copy himself seem wildly inconsistent with each other.
So, couple specific comments.
1) There are a number of places where you're using words incorrectly and to strange effect.
For example:
This statement is strange for a number of reasons.
A directive is an order. To take precedence is to have a higher priority than something. So, you're saying that orders from the hivemind were taking a higher priority than a drone's actions. I think that's not really what you're trying to say. I think you were trying to say that the hivemind was issuing commands that drones were compelled to follow. Or that those orders were taking higher precendece than a drone's personal preferences or desires. Not precedence over its actions.
For example, if I give you an order, and Bob gives you an order, but I'm "higher in the hierarchy" and therefore my orders are more important than Bob's so you act on them...it could be said that my orders take precedence over Bob's orders. If you want to to do X, but I order you to do Y, and because of the hierarchy, my orders are acted on regardless of your preference, then my orders take precedence over your preferences. But what you're saying, is that I gave you an order, and maybe you followed my order or maybe you didn't, but either way my orders were more important than what you actually did.
Which doesn't make a lot of sense.
2) Carbon's transition from drone to fully independent, emotionally deep free thinker seems fairly implausible, and is completely unjustified from his background.
So as a drone, he wasn't capable of thinking for himself.
And, he either had no concept of love, of he'd lived his entire life perceiving it as a weakness. Incidentally, make up your mind. How could it be considered a mark of weakness if there was no concept of it?
...and yet suddenly he become this compassionate, emotionally driven character he cares about his comrades and wants to prove himself worthy of the very thing his society either perceives as weak or has no concept of at all?
What does he mean 'love again?' You'd said that he'd never left the hive before, he's lived his entire life in a hivemind that has no concept of love, doesn't even have wrods for it in their langguage...and yet now he's lamenting that he won't be able to do this thing "again" that he's lived his entire life viewing as a weakness?
How are you justifying this perspective shift? You're not. It's just there...and I'm not buying it.
...again, what? Up until a few ays ago, Carbon had lived his entire life as a creature with no concept of love in a soceity with no concept of love, a creature not even capable of independant thought, and yet now he's furiously yelling at his food for not loving his family?
2) Strange perspective shifts.
First person in one sentence, third person in the next, then back to first person in the third. I see other commenters pointing this out too. Yes, there are valid reasons to deliberately shift grammatical perspective. In a story like this where the singular/hivemind nature of the character's mind is a topic being explored, it would be reasonable to use perspective shifts to communicate these ides to the reader.
But, I don't get the impression you're doing this deliberately for some subtle purpose. It reads more like you're just being carelessly inconsistent. So either stop doing it, or decide definitely why you're doing it and implement it consistently.
3) Misc
His name is Carbon Copy. He's a changeling. You point out in the beginning of the story that tealing love is a basic part of their way of life. Is replacing a lost loved one and feeding on them really so novel that "Oh! I just had an idea!" is a good way to characterize it? Everyone reading this story knew this is exactly what was going to happen. Why is he acting like it's an unexpectedly inspirational idea?
Why? He's genderless. He's never left the hive before. Why is he suddenly so proud of being able to make his food feel good?
His knowledge is strangely inconsistent. He's never eaten pony food, yet he knows about pony interpersonal family socioeconomic dynamics?
I could go on. But I think you get the point. There's a lot of weird, poorly thought out stuff going on here. The character is interesting, the writing is sufficient, but overall the story just comes across strangely. because you're making use of emotional character that isn't being justified by the story you're giving.
I really enjoyed your take on the changeling hive mind. What do you think the process was when they went from a hive mind to individual. Were there feeling of loss, pain or something liberating. I would love to read your take on it.
Awesome story. I really love where you took the changeling concept.
Looking forward to the next one.
4815948 I think in this case, Chrysalis had full control of the changelings. As to the conditioning of putting the hive before the individual, I think that would have started to happen at birth, if not before then. This isn't like what humans would go through. Changelings would have absolutely no choice unless the Queen was dead(in this case Chrysalis).
As to the monstrous act bit, the stallion was trying to commit suicide anyways and he had abused his family.
Carbon Copy took place of the stallion and treated them much better so in this case it was for the better.
4818906 I'm not here to argue with you. I'm just going to point out the idea once more for clarity's sake. You're explaining things to me about the context of the story, outside of the context of the story, that could be expanded upon in the story.
That's what conveyance is. If you find yourself having to explain something, then you have encountered a point of where your story does a poor job conveying your idea. That's the first thing I ask my proof reader to look for (though he's not a brony, so its typically brony stuff that he points out) It happens to everyone here and there. I don't think there is a story on this site (mine included) that doesn't suffer from this at some point.
But, when you find yourself having to re-explain the main point or theme of your story, I suggest taking a moment to re-evaluate how you conveyed it in the story to see where you could work that explanation into the story, instead of the comments.
And correct me if I'm not addressing the author. I've only been here for two or three days.
A couple of tense mistakes. But that's about it.
4818912
My beta readers and I found that everything was well conveyed, but now looking at all this feedback, I realize that I could have explained a few things better. I have never experienced this level of scrutiny before, and I'll be more careful when writing the sequel. Thank you for your concern.
4818284
Thanks for your critique, although it was a bit lengthy. Honestly, these things slipped past my beta readers and I, despite them being some of the most critical human beings out there. This is the first time I have experienced such a high level of scrutiny, and I'll try harder to make the sequel smoother and more easily understandable. Thank you for your time and patience.
4813981
This wasn't a collective decision though. These changelings had no voice in the matter. Carbon is disillusioned by the collectivist ideal because he has only experienced the negatives. Teamwork is good, cooperation is good, but Chrysalis imposed these things upon them to fulfill her own agenda. The changelings were enslaved by the mental connection.
Short, sweet, deep.
I think I would like to see you develop on this changeling with his ability to be a individual...what would be even more interesting was to see how the changeling society changed because of this new development.....
4819153 Thats what i am saying... It was a tool used wrongly.
That was an amazing story and I enjoyed reading every word of it. But there is one thought that came to mind, and it was "How badly would the S**t hit the fan if she ever found out about the fact he's a changeling, knocked her up, and sent a letter to other changelings telling them to replace ponies?"
4819134 I find it stupid when people get all pissy over these types of little things. Because I have OCD and I find no issue with it. They're typos, they'll be fixed at some point.
4819174 I agree, I think a continuation of this particular changeling should go on, like how he is fitting in soceity and if the long run he does indeed tell his wife or she finds out. Though Carbon is using deceit to move in, he has made her familys life happier than ever so it would be interesting to see how she really feels and reacts towards him.
4820428 So, does this mean I can look forward to more, soon? :D
4820440 That would depend on the author of this story. For me, I have an issue with changelings not being found out for who they really are with a pony or family they are infiltrating. But if the author wants to leave this as it is, it's still a good ending though.
4820516 I concur.
I can think of one other fanfic similar to this. This one shall inwardly comencee feeling the feels. Logic approves.
This has potention for a big series!