My Little War Vet: Leadshowers are Magic

by Lunar 3cl1ps3

Rating: mature
Tags: Adventure
Length: 3587

The quiet-spoken stoner Fiddlesticks finds himself in a heated Middle East war.

the story stars Fiddlesticks, a recreational drug abuser who is drafted in the Equestria Military and must fight against terrorists with humans, and finds he has certain feelings for a particular pony in his platoon, when she gets mortally wounded.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-02-08 12:44:01 UTC

Journal

Day 1

Blue. That's all I see through the window. Blue sea.

I am flying from Britain to Asscrackistan. I don't live in Britain. I hail from Equestria. You probably know it. It's located a few hundred klicks north of Hawaii, and in the middle of between Canada/ Alaska and Russia. It's devoid of human life. Equestria is controlled by ponies.

We are a proud race, known for kindness and social culture, though secretly we have an immensely powerful military- just no need for it. Honestly, I dont have a damn clue why the government bothers with an army or navy, we are pretty much the most peaceful country in the world.

I myself am a stallion. My name is Fiddlesticks, Ponyville born and raised. I didn't join willingly. I was drafted. But I had been planning of volunteering anyway, so I didn't consider deserting. Looking back, I should have.

I don't know how I got in. I get no exercise, so I'm a weak fuck, plus I eat so much.

Despite my appetite, I'm actually underweight. Anypony can see on my flank why. The weed leaf. My cutie mark. Which is probably the biggest reason I wouldn't have gotten in, and a reason that would get me arrested as soon as I walked into the examining room. But anyway, here I am, on a plane, on my way to join the slaughter or whatever we do- Americans are obnoxious sons of bitches. Many humans are annoying anyway. We try to stay out if the way of most human affairs. Hell, Equestria isn't even a member of the UN. But seeing as this Asscrackistan war is probably going to kill shitloads of people, Celestia had to ship out a bunch of our kickass army to help the Americans. Their second-in-command should never have launched that attack on the White House. But anyway. If anyone is going to be slaughtered, its me.

Blue. Just so much blue. I can't get over it. I look one way- guess what, blue blue blue. Look the other way- blue, blue, oh look, turquoise. It didnt help that I was sitting beside Rainbow Dash. I mean, she isn't a bad person, I just couldn't handle the blue. Ponyville is an inland rural town, so I'm used to rainbows of colour.

But I never had much of a bond with Rainbow Dash- the closest we ever got was sharing joints after school. We may have been in some relationship/ dating thing at some time in there, but we were either too stoned to remember much of it or being stoned was the only reason we thought we could work together.

Because despite the fact that Rainbow Dash and I are both recreational druggies and stubborn at times, we just didn't get along the way real friends do. Plus I was a unicorn and she was a pegasus. I hadn't talked to her in a couple fucking years, I probably never even got my face on that reality show she had for a few years. I didn't care.

There were a couple other familiar faces on the plane. Lyra and Derpy Hooves volunteered and somehow made it, and my old school buddy was there, Big Macintosh. (Back then he was just Macintosh, Mac, Mickie or other tard names our eight-year-old selves came up with.) But we weren't talking. We were dreading what we knew was coming. We had seen the news. People, ponies, being burned alive, by those god awful flame throwers- they didnt even light the gas quickly, they let some spill on you to help ignite your flesh better.

Lord.

Not to mention the mines. Kept secret right up until 2016, when the war broke out. Step on one, it'll drive a spike straight up, and you better hope your foot wasn't over the spike. It doesn't matter, because by then you're fucked, the spikes are hollow and loaded with explosives, so they blow up, and send shrapnel all over, just in case being anchored in place by a fourfoot spike didn't make you a sitting duck for the enemy.

We were fucked.

Eventually, the plane made it to dry land. We were still a ways away from our destination. But we knew how much closer we were to impending doom.

The plane finally lands in some shitty airfield that looks like it was set up just for our arrival. The place reminded me of Minecraft. Have you ever played Minecraft? You spend three weeks on something and it turns out like shit.

So, here we are, in this shitty airfield, waiting for orders.

Due to spacing issues, the platoon's lieutenant was on another plane. We could see now, coming in rather high. Out of nowhere, a missile streaked through the sky, and landed directly in the middle of the plane, in the passenger compartment. The explosion threw chunks of iron across several hundred yards of space, and blew the plane in half. No one could have survived.

There goes our orders. Maybe we could go home now. But the officers there wouldn't have it. 'Right,' one started to half yell at us,'Dont get hopeful, you're still in this war, so well assign you a new lieutenant.'

My ears fell. I had liked Officer Zecora, I'd gotten myself kicked out of platoons to get in hers. Only to end up with a potential douchebag.

A few hours later, we had set ourselves up in our barracks, when we were called outside. The same officer that greeted us before was standing with a particularly greasy human, who sneered at us like we were vermin. 'Mares and gentlecolts', the first officer said,'I am pleased to introduce to you...' Oh god, no. '...your new lieutenant.' The human stepped forward. 'Okay you little fuckers, I don't know how they trained you back in that shitty little country of yours-' what, you mean the one that discovered the 119, 120 and 121 elements? 'But I'm going to command you my way. The right way. Now, I can see there's a bit of a difference between you all and me-' we aren't asshats '-but let's forget about that for now. ' he continued rambling on for ages about how ponies were an inferior race. The man actually said that to us. When those words fell out of his faggot mouth, I just about ended him. I had learned magic spells at boot camp, spontaneous combustion and causing people to explode. If there weren't others around, that fucker would be in pieces.

But eventually, he did finish, and we were allowed to get the hell away from him.

Entries 2-4

We had left the airstrip and were on our way to the front lines. My heart was racing. I couldn't function. I would probably die first. I want this fucking war to end. I wanted to go home.

I didn't know how much I would want to go home later. I couldn't understand how horrifying war really is.

Day 5

Front lines. They were set up through some small town that had been completely bombed out. The lorry came to a stop just outside of the town. I was about to ask why we didnt just pull in to the town, then I remembered Lieutenant Cockmunch would probably spout off, and just as I was opening my mouth to ask, a building visible on the outskirts got mortared. The entire structure crumbled to the ground like a house of cards, but with a lot more dust. I could see people getting smoked by the chunks of frame as they fell out of the second floor.

So we got to jog the rest of the way.

As soon as we entered the city limits, one of the corporals got hit. His head got blown in half, the side not attached to the neck went to shit and coated the lieutenant. I got some satisfaction out of this, then as the sound of the sniper shot reached us, it hit me- the guy just got killed. We weren't any more protected than he had been, maybe less so. What did I do? I fucking ran. I didn't care which direction, I just ran. I accidentally sprinted towards the enemy, despite the fact that I knew they had mortars and sniper rifles and god knows what else. They actually ran away because for all they knew I was a suicide bomber and I was going to blow the bunch of them to hell.

Somewhere a couple hundred yards past enemy lines I ran out of steam, then realized where I was. Surprisingly, no one was around. But when they saw that I wasn't rigged to blow, they opened fire.

I shit a chicken.

I pulled out my primary- E64, short- medium range automatic, standard issue to Equestria infantry- and shot at every rifle flash I saw. I hadn't regained the energy to run, so I did that kind of dance the 'special' kid does when he tries to dodge dodgeballs. It worked. I didn't get hit, though I had a few close calls, and eventually I fumbled my way across the front lines, back to my side, where the platoon was waiting to cover me. I ducked behind a burned car to catch my breath and count the chickens I had shat. About a dozen. A decent coop.

As the last chicken ran off, I got another leadshower. The full-metal jackets the enemy had in their guns easily pierced the rusted car body. I remembered from training the sniper rounds would go through the engine block, and me three times before they slowed at all, but even then they'd still be lethal.

By then I could run, so I ducked into the nearest building, where as luck would have it the rest of the platoon was bunking up in. The sniper shots occasionally pierced the wall, but that's what furniture was for. We shoved everything in the room that wasn't ours, and some that was, against the wall. A couple of the platoon had been killed, so we used their bulletproof vests to block up any weak spots.

Worked pretty well.

Day 8

We'd been in this building for three days. This marked the fourth. There hadn't been much action, we only shot a couple lone wolves who had gone to see where the fuck we were, and none of us got injured.

I was still being teased for my suicide attempt. My name may have been Fiddlesticks, but to the platoon I was Megadick. I got it pretty much as soon as we got ourselves situated in this building. That chick Rainbow Dash came up with it. I asked her why today, and she told me, 'That shit takes a lot of balls.' I told her I had done it by accident, and was shitting myself half the time. She just laughed and said,'Okay, Megadick.'

Entries 4 to 6

Day 10

I shot my first Asscrackistani today. I may have got ten the first day, but they don't count.

I was looking around the front lines,  with the medium-long range rifle, the secondary weapon, the E80. 30-06, semi-auto, scope sight.

I saw a couple guys looking back at me, one with binoculars and the other, also with his rifle. I aimed right at the gun, a tricky feat, since I was shaking so bad. I did manage to get the gun steady, aimed and fired. The shot went right into the other guy's barrel and hit the cartridge, and the thing exploded out the chamber in his face.

Then I shot him in the face.

The binoculars guy didn't know whether to laugh or shit himself.

I think he did both.

Day 14

Lyra died today. I didn't know her well, she was a Facebook friend and a former classmate. Not much else. But I still took it kind of hard, when you lose somepony in a small town everyone loses that pony. And our platoon was a very small town.

We had moved out of the building, into- guess what- another building.

This one had more windows facing the enemy, a strategic thing. Lyra was shooting at unseen targets, judging by her charming language she wasn't having much luck. I was cleaning my guns. That was my new hobby. I hadn't had a good fap in weeks. I couldn't because of all the girls around. The female-male ratio in Equestria is like, 3:1, 4:1. But I couldn't really fap around just guys either. I used to fap all the time. Daily, twice a day, sometimes. It had become routine, a habit even. All I could do now to pass the time was clean the guns. My guns were so clean, you could have thrown them in a pile along with the guns of every other pony soldier in Asscrackistan, then find my two guns in minutes. Not a speck of dust, dirt or anything else. I was almost done cleaning the E80 when I heard a crack, then felt wet. I looked to the source of the wet, then saw Lyra. All that remained of her head was half the lower jaw and some shreds of skin. Her neck was still spurting blood, but quickly slowed.

I almost threw up at the sight.

Day 17

No one else had died since Lyra. Our platoon was staying together very well. Out of thirty, only four had become casualty. But that would change. The building was stormed at night. They should have been noticed- it was Derpy Hooves' turn to guard, which explains why they got in- but they weren't noticed. Two ponies were shot immediately. We fought back hard, I got three, but we had been cut to half within minutes. I was in a corner with Rainbow Dash, ready to strike at a couple of Asscrackistani running up the stairs. We jumped, and shot them, but not before one got Rainbow Dash in the chest.

Now, except for the semi-relationship years ago, Rainbow Dash was just another pony in the background of my life. But that changed as soon as the bullet pierced her chest. She became my life itself, my everything, my being. I can't explain why. It just happened.

Nevertheless, I grabbed Rainbow Dash and ran her our of the building, looking for a medical facility. We weren't alone in the town, but platoons were spread out. I soon found the infirmary, headbutting open the door, on my back legs, and screaming, 'GET HER A FUCKING DOCTOR!' 'I don't need a doctor', shed been trying to tell me, when she coughed blood. 'Okay. Maybe I do.'

I looked at the wound. It had obviously pierced her lung, and may have grazed the heart. I felt for an exit wound, and found it. Fuck me, it was bad. I held her waiting for a doctor- it was a bit busy, because of the raids. Eventually a doctor came, but I could feel Dash slipping away. The blood was so bad. It was everywhere. Oh, Rainbow. The doctor took one look, and said,'Get her over here. Right fucking now.' I ran up, looking for a hospital bed, but they were so busy, the bed wasn't ready yet. Dash was unconscious. I almost dropped her to help set up the equipment, but stopped.

He wasn't going to make it. She wasn't going to make it. No, Dash. Do you have to? No! Just he finished, I realized it was too late.

Entries 7 and 8

Rainbow Dash died sleeping in my arms on June 14, 2018. I like to think she was asleep, she was probably unconscious. She would have been buried in a mass grave, she would have been recognized for her sacrifice, her name would have been on the plaque. But I stepped in and said no. I told the guy in charge of corpses,'Fuck that. You put her ass on a plane, you send her home, where she fucking belongs.'

When a stoner with guns and blood on his shirt tells you what he wants done with a random dead body, you fucking do it.

Rainbow Dash went back to Equestria, back to Ponyville. She was given a decent burial. I had to pay for it all out of my own pocket, but I didn't and don't care. For my Dash, I'd do anything. I could tell she felt my sudden feeling for her. I think she felt it back. I just hope she knew that someone cared that much about her, to go that far, to risk their own life to try and save hers.

Day 18

I cried. I cried a lot. I hadn't cried like that in years. After a few minutes of it I decided crying wouldn't help. Something that might, though, was avenging her death. We had already killed the pond scum that shot her, but that one bullet, those eight grains of powder, lowered my already meager respect for Asscrackistan by a lot. It wasn't the soldiers anymore, it was anyone. Women, children, all of them. The entire country's population couldn't measure up to one of my Rainbow Dash. If I could get her back, but only if all of Asscrackistan and some of the surrouding area was nuked, those people wouldn't have time to realize what was going on.

So I got my guns extra-clean. I loaded up on ammunition, and got myself anything useful as a weapon anywhere I could find. Grenades, small arms, gas cans.

I was packing so much heat matches ignited near me. After a bit I had gathered an assload of goodies to hurt, maim and kill people with. And I used them. Any Asscrackistani who came within range of me got a molotov cocktail dropped on them. If I had no cocktail, they got grenades. If I had no grenades, they got lead pissed on them.

I became aggressive with kills. If I saw the enemy, I automatically called dibs. The remainer of my platoon figured this out and pretty much sat back and watched me destroy this town's population. I often ran out into the street to do my shooting, and I was very efficient. I could blow away five people with only three rounds.

I was no longer Fiddlesticks, the weak stoner fuck. I was Megadick, the fearless bringer of pain and death. I didn't keep count of my kills, but others tried to. By the thirtieth day in the field, somepony put the figure at 73. That was fucking phenomenal. Dash would have been proud, and wherever she was, I knew she was proud of me.

Oh, Rainbow Dash.

It's all for you.

Day 3?

The days were blending together. I had accumulated 100 unofficial kills. I don't particularly remember any specifics, it became routine, like fapping had. But I will never forget that one day.

I was on a ground raid, blowing brains out the side of people's heads as you do with a job like mine. I decided to go further- go right inti their bunker. Alone.

I got a couple quickly, but going around a corner I was tripped. I felt a gun against my head, heard the grunt, nu-uh, then blank. He killed me.

No Entry

I woke up in my bed.

What the hell? I had my head blown apart. You can't fix up chunks of head then send the fucker home. Had I dreamed that whole month?

I opened the window. Absolutely beautiful day. Fucking perfect.

I made myself some breakfast, then sat down to eat it. Everything seemed so much... Better than it ever had. The table chair was comfier, the room was more colourful. After breakfast I walked outside to feel the day, when who should be waiting but Rainbow Dash. Funny, I'd just had a dream about her. Then the memories of the dream came back. The sorrow, the emotion. I immediately took her in a huge bear hug, then realized what I was doing, and let go, preparing for the awkward moment. But to my surprise, she hugged back. We stood there hugging for a few minutes. I hadn't been dreaming. I was dead. So was Rainbow Dash. We were in the afterlife. But as long as we were in the afterlife together, it was okay. As we finished our hug, I told Dash,'You couldn't understand how much I missed you. It was so terrible.' she kissed me on the cheek and said, 'I felt every bit of it.'

How had we not seen this compatibility before? Why did we have to die to see we were meant for each other? I didn't care. As long as we were together, that was all that mattered. We watched the entire world together from our heavenly universe. We saw the war escalate into the third World War, lasting eight years, taking the lives of 40+million people. We saw the peace agreements. We watched the oil wells dry up, then saw the scientists discover how to replicate photosynthesis, cleaning the desperately CO2-rich air forever. We watched humanity and ponykind evolve, grow, and decline. We watched the entire world and all that took place on it. Just the two of us. Together, for all eternity. But first, I had something to do. Before I left my house with Dash, I excused myself. I walked casually into the bathroom, sat down on the toilet and had a nice, long fap.

The end.