Prologue: Not So Much "RIP," But Rather "HiE"
MOTHERBUCKER!!! -or- The Curse of Marty Stu
By: The Fanfic Stealer
Disclaimer: I do not own MLP… or whatever else I decide to throw in here.
A/N: Another idea that just wouldn’t leave me the heck alone. This one spawned from reading several HiE fics, as well as a parody or two… that, and, as a MLP fanfiction writer, I felt it was my duty to make at least one attempt at a self-insert… well, a semi-self-insert, at any rate-- the soft and squishy human won’t actually be me, but he’ll share basic similarities. Much like “Proto-Element of Harmony,” expect long updates with this one, as it isn’t my main focus.
-Break-
Prologue: Not So Much “RIP,” Bur Rather "HiE"
To the best of his knowledge, he was neither a whiny emo brat, nor some kind of tragic figure who’d tragically lost all of his loved ones in some kind of tragically tragic tragedy, nor a teenager with a completely illogical-yet-convenient set of skills and/or an equally illogical-yet-convenient repertory of knowledge.
Also to the best of his knowledge, he had neither been unwillingly sucked into nor willingly (and stupidly) approached a tear in space-time, been killed in some kind of freak accident, or died heroically saving a little girl, or something.
In truth, he’d been an old man who had lived a full life, and he’d gone to bed that night expecting one of two things: either a) he would wake up the next morning and go about his day, or b) he wouldn’t wake up, passing away into the next life due to nothing more than old age and a failing body. He was at that point in life where he no longer cared which happened, to be honest-- the former let him spend some more time with his cute little nieces and nephews (he didn't care if they were grown up, they would always be cute and little to him!) and their equally cute little children, while he already had everything squared away in case of the latter: his list of “Everything I Want To Do Before I Die” completed, his will written, his worldly belongings distributed to his nieces and nephews and their families (his one regret: he never married, so no children or grandchildren to call his own), a sizable amount of money donated to charity, and a system set up with his neighbors to make sure his body was found before it started smelling too badly.
Basically, out of all the people that could wake up and inexplicably find themselves in a magical land of fantasies come true, he was one of-- if not THE-- most unlikely candidates available.
…So why did he wake up this morning lying in the middle of a field, with a rather colorful town in the distance? A town that, even from this distance, looked to be populated with familiar pastel-colored ponies, the likes of which he’d only seen in that cartoon his grandnieces, some of his nephews (though they would never admit it), and he, himself (he was old, and as such, could afford to lose some dignity), liked to watch?
And, more pressing: WHY THE FUCK WAS HE A PONY?!? And not just any pony, but a BABY PONY?!? He was an old man, goddamnit! One who was quite satisfied with how his life had turned out, and had no desire to relive it, especially as a completely different species! WHY WAS THIS HAPPENING TO HIM?!?
Well, at least he was an average pony... right? Probably-- hopefully-- just a regular Earth Pony colt that couldn't make Big Mac feel emasculated just by existing, and probably not an unicorn that rivaled Twilight or-- God forbid-- Celestia in power and/or skill, or a pegasus that could outfly Rainbow Dash or the Wonderbolts. And he was most definitely not an alicorn that could do all of those things, and then some, despite being just a colt... right? Right. He was probably just a regular Earth Pony colt, with no especially outstanding features.
His thoughts were interrupted when a sudden breeze caused some unnatural ruffling across his back. Okay, so either he was wearing something across his back, or those were wings, which would make him a pegasus colt. He could work with that. Sure, he could fly and manipulate the weather, but that was normal around here, so that was fine. Yep, he could definitely work wi-- why did his head feel weird? It was heavier than he was used to, almost like... he had a growth on his forehead? A horn, perhaps? Then that would make him a unicorn, wouldn't it? Which would make the thing on his back just a blanket or something, because, once again, there was no way in hell he was an alicorn. Nope. No way in. Fucking. Hell.
But just to make sure he wasn't an Earth Pony with grosteque mutations, or a pegasus with an unfortunate case of brain cancer (as much as he didn't want to go through life again, and as a pony no less, he wasn't too inclined to die in incredible, tumor-induced agony, thank you very much), he quickly trotted (...how the hell did he already know how to do that? Probably just a side-effect of whatever had brought him to Equestria, and not some completely unexplainable instinctual knowledge unique only to him... hopefully) over to a conveniently nearby brook and checked his reflection, ignoring his outlandish color scheme (his mane and tail were fiery red and his hooves were a light brown. At least his coat was a shade of dark yellow that he had to admit was rather nice and, more importantly, looked fairly ordinary) in favor of studying his horn (royal blue, and bigger than was normal for his apparent age, but he ignored those details, if for no other reason than to preserve his sanity) in the middle of his forehead, right above his eyes. So he was a unicorn, then, and he had a blanket on his back. Alright. He could work with that, too-- he might have magic, but he was also in a world where a third of the population also had magic, so he was still fairly ordinary. Good. He was a perfectly ordinary unicorn colt with an unnecessary blanket on his back, which he was going to fix right now--!
Craning his head back, he made to pull the now confirmed blanket off his back when he froze in horrified, disbelieving shock at the sight that greeted him: apparently, he'd been wrong about the blanket, as, right there, attached right behind his shoulder blades, was a pair of wings. That were bigger than they should be. And pale lavender.
He began to twitch as the facts began to sink in: he was an alicorn, in a world where alicorns were overpowered benevolent rulers. What's more, he was an alicorn with a ridiculous color scheme, and-- he looked past his wings, more out of morbid curiosity than anything-- would you look at that? He already had a Cutie Mark, and it was-- surprise, surprise-- overly elaborate and what his nephews would have deemed "cool-looking": a silver circle connecting four other circles corresponding to the previously mentioned ridiculous color scheme, surrounding a twelve-point golden starburst that contained within it a silver crescent moon. The twitching only grew more violent as his mind tried to rebel against the truth staring him in the face, and turned into spasms as his mind lost the battle and accepted the truth of the matter. He felt a little piece of his soul die, and finally snapped.
And so, faced with his worst nightmare come true, 98-year-old Martin Stewards-- often called Marty Stu by just about everyone that knew him, much to his eternal shame-- reacted in the only way he felt was appropriate to his situation.
“MOTHERFUCKER!!!”
-Break-
A/N: ...I think I got most of the HiE beginning cliches up there. Did I miss any?
MOTHERBUCKER!!! -or- The Curse of Marty Stu
By: The Fanfic Stealer
Disclaimer: I do not own MLP… or whatever else I decide to throw in here.
A/N: For those of you that follow “In a Strange Land,” know that, contrary to what it looks like, nothing is on hiatus, and I am still working on the next chapter. It’s just… work’s been a bitch, and I need to get my creative juices flowing. Hence why this piece of crap is getting updated.
-Break-
Chapter 1: …Dafaq?
Princess Celestia, Goddess of the Sun and current sole ruler of Equestria, leisurely flew through the air above Ponyville as she searched for the spatial-temporal disturbance she had detected earlier. Why she was personally searching for this disturbance alone, rather than delegating the job to the hundreds of soldiers she has at her disposal that are currently doing nothing more than acting like statues and taking up room, was because something told her that she had to be the one to search for it… that something being, of course, her completely illogical, reality warping, super-awesome-mega-fantastic alicorn powers of epicness that only fail when a climatic battle needs to be set up to start and/or end the season.
…That, and it was a chance to stretch her wings and get away from her paperwork. Her evil, evil paperwork. That Luna once swore she saw turn into Smooze for a moment before reverting back. Her evil, evil, evil…
Quickly uncurling herself from the fetal position caused by her paperwork-induced nervous breakdown (that she had in midair, yet was able to keep herself from falling, because she’s awesome enough to troll gravity like that. Suck it, gravity!), she continued her search for the phenomenon that she only knew about thanks to her completely illogical, reality warping, super-awesome-mega-fantastic alicorn powers of epicness that only failed when a climatic battle needs to be set up to start and/or end the season, which also apparently gave her inexplicable and vaguely precognitive feelings that she had no choice but to obey despite logic dictating otherwise. It only took her a moment more of searching before she found it.
“MOTHERFUCKER!!!”
…Or rather, before her attention was drawn to it. “It” being a young colt… a young ALICORN colt… with a very familiar color scheme… and not only because her completely illogical, reality warping, etc. etc. alicorn powers let her occasionally break the fourth wall. She had seen an alicorn colored as such, once upon a time. And if this mysterious colt was who she thought it was…
Celestia licked her lips and grinned in anticipation as she began her descent.
-Break-
After his initial outburst, Marty continued his ranting, making use of his very, very extensive vocabulary. He was just getting into the many ways one can degrade another’s heritage using various diseased animals when he was interrupted by a dainty “Ahem.” Turning to the sound of the voice, our reluctantly overpowered hero was met with the sight of Princess Celestia in all her glory. He immediately groaned and facehooved.
“Please tell me you’re here to detain me for questioning, or something,” he begged around his hoof, hoping that this wasn’t going to be like one of THOSE fanfics, and that the millennia-old immortal princess wasn’t going to naively welcome him with open arms… err, forelegs. Whatever. Because, seriously, a being with her experience and power should at least feel SOME suspicion towards the stranger that popped up in her lands for no reason. His hopes were dashed when Celestia just blinked.
“Err… excuse me?” she asked, bewildered.
Marty looked up into the monarch’s eyes. “Despite my current appearance, I am a stranger to these lands,” he spelled out to her, “You have no idea if I am a threat or not, especially since my current appearance suggests the potential to rival you in power. So please, if you’re as wise as you’re supposed to be, lock my ass up in your dungeon or something and interrogate me until you’re absolutely sure I’m not a threat to your little ponies.”
Celestia looked blankly at Marty for a few moments, before slowly pointing out, “…I don’t see a donkey around here…?” Marty facehooved again, making the facehooves doubled.
“For the love of-- out of all of that, THAT’S what you pick up? Are you for real?” he griped, “I meant that you should ARREST ME!!! I can grow up to overthrow you, or enslave you, or… or… doom Equestria to a nuclear winter for all you know!”
The Sun Goddess giggled. “Oh, but I already know you aren’t a threat to Equestria!”
Marty looked up again, an incredulous eyebrow raised in a fair imitation of that most awesome of emotionally-retarded aliens, Spock. “And you can possibly know that… how?”
“Well, aside from how you’re trying to convince me to put you behind bars because you might be a threat to me and mine, thus showing that you do, in fact, care about the wellbeing of this land…?”
“Reverse psychology,” Marty deadpanned. His completely logical suggestion went unheeded by Celestia as she continued, a smirk slowly gracing her regal features.
“…There’s also the fact that you are no stranger to these lands-- we knew each other once, long ago, and I would sooner consider my sister an enemy than consider YOU my enemy.”
Marty blinked once. Then twice. Then a third time before the implications of Celestia’s words sank in. And when he did comprehend them (which took longer than usual, as his brain spent some time trying to fight the inevitable conclusion), he groaned and facehooved a third time. His face was beginning to hurt, but that was nothing compared to the sheer horror of his situation.
“Are you saying I’m a fucking reincarnation?!” he griped. Celestia, seemingly oblivious to his distress, nodded cheerily.
“That is exactly what I’m saying, my dear Hyperion.”
He groaned again and hanged his head in dejection.
“…And I had a ridiculously grandiose name. Of course,” he griped some more, “God damn it all… fine. So what was I? Your brother? Son? Father? Uncle? What?”
“Oh my, I would hope you were none of those!” she tittered. Marty felt his hackles start to rise; for some reason, he had a feeling he was NOT going to like her answer. He was proven right moments later when Celestia continued with far more enthusiasm than should have been allowed.
“After all, having any of those be your lover is just wrong, don’t you think?” Her words ended in a sultry whisper as she nuzzled him lovingly.
Marty felt his brain stall as it once again tried to valiantly to reject what he’d just heard. It almost succeeded, too, until he felt that horrifyingly intimate nuzzle. Then, once again, it failed, and another small sliver of his soul tied a gruesome death.
“…Dafaq?” he mumbled, his eyes dead as his brain suffered from a mental blue screen of death. Celestia seemed to neither notice nor care, apparently having run out of fucks to give.
“Now, come along, Hyperion. Let us be off to Canterlot and the new castle!”
A graceful flap of her wings, and Celestia was airborne. Still dead to the world and working on autopilot, Marty took to the air after her, not even struggling despite how he had no experience whatsoever with flight. Several hours later, when he was settled in at his new bedroom at Canterlot and his mental faculties had finally recovered enough for him to take notice of his surroundings again, this little incongruity would finally come to his attention.
The resulting storm of foul language would mentally scar all but the most cynical and/or trollerific (*ahem*Celestia*cough*) residents of Canterlot Castle for years to come.
-Break-
A/N: …I have nothing to say in my defense; this… this was pure mental diarrhea, and I will not deny it.
Oh, and thanks to Delta Shock for his awesome betaing skillz. 'Cause he's awesome like that. Seriously, go read some of his fics after this, especially his Pokemon crossover.
