• Published 2nd Nov 2020
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Why Do You Speak My Language?! - Soaring



A human meets a horse. They both speak English... sort of.

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Memory Of You

Author's Note:

Imagine writing yourself into a corner and not knowing how to get out of it lmao.

Translations for this chapter are in order as they appear:

BEING A VIRGIN
b︎e︎e︎n︎ a︎ g︎r︎e︎a︎t︎ s︎t︎u︎d︎e︎n︎t︎. Y︎o︎u︎ h︎a︎v︎e︎ m︎e︎ p︎r︎o︎u︎d︎ t︎o︎ b︎e︎ y︎o︎u︎r︎ f︎a︎t︎h︎e︎r︎. I︎ ju︎s︎t︎ w︎i︎s︎h︎ y︎o︎u︎, y︎o︎u︎ kn︎o︎w︎, g︎o︎t︎ a︎ g︎i︎r︎l︎f︎r︎i︎e︎n︎d︎. T︎h︎a︎t︎ w︎o︎u︎l︎d︎ a︎t︎ l︎e︎a︎s︎t︎ m︎a︎ke︎ m︎e︎ f︎e︎e︎l︎ s︎e︎c︎u︎r︎e︎ a︎b︎o︎u︎t︎ y︎o︎u︎r︎ f︎u︎t︎u︎r︎e︎ w︎i︎t︎h︎ s︎o︎m︎e︎o︎n︎e︎ e︎l︎s︎e︎.

Hope you all enjoy this chapter. :)

It was Thanksgiving Day. I was excited to be spending this at my parent’s house, mostly because football was going to be on tonight and my father and I were of the same mind. We were avid fans of football, so it was natural that we would talk about it all the time over the dinner table. My mother, bless her heart, always had to put up with our bullshit when I lived at home. Now, I was coming over with a dish to pass, and the energy of a hyped up fan of a losing team, if there was any hype in that whatsoever.

I took a deep breath and then opened the door. It creaked as it slowly swung open. I shouted, “Mom? Dad? I’m home!” as loud as I could, and like usual, my mother was stuck in the kitchen, while my father was planted firmly on the couch, watching Sportscenter. Stereotypical Thanksgiving behavior. Stereotypical each and every time.

“Dear, we’re so glad you’re home!” my mother said, who was the first to greet me when I walked in the door. She held onto me tight while my father spoke,

“Glad to see you, son. You brought over the goulash this year?”

I’m glad too, and yes I did.

“We’re so happy you’re home.” It’s such a rare occasion now that you’ve been living on your own for so long.”

I’m happy as well, Mom. So, when are we having dinner?

“Soon, son. Soon,” my father said as he took my dish. “Your mother has been preparing it for quite a while now. Probably should check on the turkey too—”

“Prepping? I don’t just prep, you know! Who made the veggies and rice?”

“You did but—”

“And the sweet potatoes?”

“You did—”

“And the marshmallow supreme scallop potatoes?”

“Wait, I thought you said we were not having that this Thanksgiving?”

My mother gasped. “Not having the marshmallow supreme scallop potatoes? No, dear, we always have to have that.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll give it to you. You haven’t burnt the house down yet with your cooking, so I haven’t had to ring the fire department.”

An eye roll, a small argument, and a laugh from my father: the ingredients to a perfect, yet ordinary occurrence. A scene that I remember well.

“Rick, how has college been?”

I gave a long answer here. At the time, I had just finished a huge project for my Sociology professor, and was completely burnt out from staring at papers and computer screens. Also told them that I was at a party a couple days ago, one that my college buddies hosted for ‘surviving in Mrs. Shaboya’s class thus far’. They laughed at what I told them and congratulated me on my accomplishments too.

Anyway, a few minutes passed. I was now seated in the living room, my dish was set on the table, while my parents, who had told me ‘plant my ass in a seat while they brought out the rest’, placed their dishes too. The table looked so full, I was wondering if the table’s legs would be able to hold up all this weight. The turkey was massive. It was like my parents were trying to win the grand prize at the state fair. Unfortunately for them, the state fair had already passed, and all that was left was to win from the judges: me, myself, and I.

I don’t remember much from the food itself, other than the feeling that they gave off. The aroma, the warm plates, the happy faces; Thanksgiving provided me with the best feeling in the world. Well that and the apple crisp, but that’s because I’m addicted to that shit.

Then, as I was chomping down on some delicious apple crisp, my mother began to say grace (who passed away 30 years ago),

“Rick, we are happy that you’re alive this year…”

I blinked. This was not grace. I mean, thanks for saying I’m alive but this was definitely not normal.

My father, who usually would say something about this, had not even said a word. In fact, he treated it as if it was normal, his head was hung low and his eyes were closed, all while he was holding my mother’s hand, having a firm grip around it. She continued her… whatever this was,

“We’re also happy that you’re home to save us…”

My eyes were about to launch into space with how wide-eyed I was. Was I hearing the same speech as my father? And why am I hearing Twilight’s voice through my mother? What voodoo magic is happening here?

“If it weren’t for you succeeding in 👌︎☜︎✋︎☠︎☝︎ ✌︎ ✞︎✋︎☼︎☝︎✋︎☠︎, we would have probably disowned you.”

Not only did I just get roasted by my mother, but I got roasted in a different language. Curse those magical talking horses that totally don’t speak English! And why hasn’t my father said anything? Is he just going to sit over there with his eyes closed?

I’m glad you didn’t disown me. I would have probably been couch surfing at this point with a broken hip or something.

“Well, son, you have ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ♋︎ ♑︎❒︎♏︎♋︎⧫︎ ⬧︎⧫︎◆︎♎︎♏︎■︎⧫︎. ✡︎□︎◆︎ ♒︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ❍︎♏︎ ◻︎❒︎□︎◆︎♎︎ ⧫︎□︎ ♌︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ♐︎♋︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎. ✋︎ 🙰◆︎⬧︎⧫︎ ⬥︎♓︎⬧︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎, ⍓︎□︎◆︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎, ♑︎□︎⧫︎ ♋︎ ♑︎♓︎❒︎●︎♐︎❒︎♓︎♏︎■︎♎︎. ❄︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♋︎⧫︎ ●︎♏︎♋︎⬧︎⧫︎ ❍︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ❍︎♏︎ ♐︎♏︎♏︎●︎ ⬧︎♏︎♍︎◆︎❒︎♏︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ♐︎◆︎⧫︎◆︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⬧︎□︎❍︎♏︎□︎■︎♏︎ ♏︎●︎⬧︎♏︎.

Alright, I don’t even know what the heck he said. All I know is that my father just recreated the demon from the Exorcist if they were calm, collected, and disappointed in my ability. Now I need a priest to yell ‘Take Me’ frantically so they could take said demon out of my father’s body and leap out of the window to avoid my tragic life story, and this scene would be complete.

I appreciate you both and love you so much. I’m glad you’re my parents.

“And we’re glad you’re our kid. Now, before we finish this prayer, could you just wake up already?!

Now that sounded like Starlight. Alright, this is totally a dream. The question is, how do I wake up?

Just open your eyes, son. It’s not that hard.”

I closed mine instead. I closed them tightly as I heard the world around me change. Wind breaking glass. Tables and chairs flipping around me. My hair being whipped by the gust. Voices of a distant memory being drowned out by destruction. I almost let out a whimper, but I didn’t let myself do that. It’s just a dream, I’m not that much of a pussy.

I opened my eyes.

I was in a hospital room of sorts. White walls around me. I was lying down facing a corner of the room. So I was dreaming, and I was knocked out cold. The question was, for how long? How long was I gone for?

I tried to get myself up, but I noticed they had me hooked to some machine that certainly wasn’t an IV and some other tech I couldn’t recognize. It had a bunch of symbols etched into its side, and it was whirring like a broken ceiling fan. I was dressed in some abridged version of a gown, and I could feel my body was stitched together like I was a voodoo doll. The pain ached, but it did not sting surprisingly, making me want to just flop back down on this examination table that they had me on.

I took my own advice and adjusted myself. I propped my head back down on the pillow, and waited for the inevitable.

The door swung open. In came a nurse, a small white pony with a small cap on her head. It had a red cross on it, one that definitely contrasted her baby blue eyes. Her pink mane and tail also were in view, and I was just flabbergasted. I had to resist the urge to pet this one. Not sure why I even had the urge in the first place.

“Well hello… nurse?”

“Redheart,” she replied with a bit of cheer. “Hello Rick. I’m glad you’re finally awake.”

I nodded. “Same. Those nightmares I had were awful. Kept hearing random voices wanting me to wake my ass up.”

She chuckled. “Bet you had some wild dreams while we had you under the scope.”

“Under the scope?” I said with a brow raise. “That’s why I feel like I just underwent a surgery and a marathon.”

“That’s what they all say,” Redheart replied with a smirk. She walked up to the bottom of my bed and sat there, observing a chart in her hooves. “You have about… let’s see… a couple more days of recovery before we can release you.”

“Only a couple?”

The nurse bobbed her head. “Our treatment times here are pretty short, even for severe cases like yourself. Magic has helped advance our medicine. If you were a pony, this would have been only a day or two, but your condition is caused by magic, so we had to turn to alternative medicine.”

That made sense. Dying to what was treating me would be a stupid death.

“So, you need to take my temperature or anything?”

Redheart smiled. “Nope. That machine you’re hooked up to does it for us. Constant feed of information, you know?”

I peered over at it, the screen flashing different data sets that were all in horse scribble. Great.

“Don’t worry,” the mare piped up, pulling me away from the machine’s screen. “It’s not going to bite you. Unless you want it to. I mean, I think there’s an extra feature that will do just that—”

“I think I’ll pass on that, nurse.”

“Good, because I’m not finished with you yet. Pain on a scale from zero to ten?”

I shrugged. “Like a 5?”

The nurse jotted down some notes on the clipboard in front of her. “Good, just as we expected. We will make sure to slip some PainAwayWeed™ to get rid of that pain you are feeling.”

The nurse tapped the end of her muzzle with her forehoof. “Hmm, well other than your pain, your vitals are fine, at least, we think they’re fine. You’re similar to other animals in Equestria, so at least we have a reference point.”

“Good, otherwise I’d be freaking out at the moment.”

“Well as long as you keep your breathing nice and steady, then that machine next to ya won’t sound too angry with you. In fact, I know someone else who would be more angry if I don’t let her see you.”

“Going to assume it’s Twilight, right?”

“Yes, and I’m not a fan of being sent to the dungeons.”

“Well I can’t let Horny treat you like that,” I said, before clasping my mouth as quickly as I could with wires hooked up to me.

“Horny, huh? That’s what you call our princess?”

“Well, she has a huge horn so I thought…”

Redheart laughed. “You’re not wrong! You’re not wrong. You probably should keep the pet names to yourself though. You’re lucky I’m not the one to judge interspecies relationships.”

I felt a distinct level of heat piercing my cheeks. “W-We’re not like that at all.”

Rightttt…” The mare replied, winking at me as she sashayed her way over to the door. “I’ll let her know that you’re awake. Just sit tight, okay?”

Still flustered by the nurse horse imagining me being paired with a psychopath, I struggled with my reply, “I-I will, nurse.”

“Good, because if you don’t, those wires will rip your guts out and then I have to clean all that up. Let’s avoid a bloody massacre, mkay?”

“Got it,” I said with a thumbs up. Got my composure under wraps, for now.

With that, the nurse left the room, the door gently clicking shut. The loneliness left me wandering, my mind grasping for straws to erase whatever horrible future my mind was concocting.


“Twilight! Twilight!”

I woke the alicorn up. She was whimpering in her sleep outside in the hallway. I couldn’t just leave her there, she probably would have terrible back pain and she was already suffering enough from the mental anguish she’s had to bear. She had suffered enough.

Besides, I had news for her.

The surgery was a success. The magic is… well, gone, for now. The bad news is that, without a way to filter the magic through him, he will be like this once again in approximately four months if he’s kept under supervision. Maybe Princess Twilight had something planned for him?

I took a deep breath. She asked me where she was. I reminded her.

“Oh,” Princess Twilight mumbled. Her mane was mangled, drool dried up on the side of her muzzle. She licked her lips. “I didn’t know I fell asleep. Was there something you wanted to tell me, Nurse Redheart?”

I nodded. “He’s alive. We were able to remove most of the magic from his body, but some of his tissue will be scarred permanently.”

Her eyes widened. Her wings raised. “You’re… not joking with me, right?”

“Nope. You could even see him now, if you would like.”

“Uh, yes please.” I could tell she was trying to keep her composure, if her wings quivering and her forelegs shaking were anything to go off of. “And fast.”

I chose to ignore her second part of her statement. She needed to calm down or I would have to give her 50cc of ‘calm down you maniac’. Not that I would tell her that exactly, but she needs to not surprise him into a second coma.

I sighed and walked her over to his room. The walk felt like I was walking on pins and needles, as my hooves clicked and clacked down the hall. All my training didn’t give me the option to ignore this feeling, this feeling of working myself to a numbing sensation. Everything became a blur for a few seconds, a few breaths, as the other ponies, paintings, walls, miscellaneous medical equipment fell to the wayside. There was nothing else to worry about. Only Princess Twilight and Rick.

I stopped in front of his room. I turned to her and told her one more thing.

“Please don’t strangle him or anything. He just woke up and is extremely weak.”

The mare nodded enthusiastically. “I will try not to. He’s… he’s…”

Her voice trailed off. Is he close to her by chance? Will we have to worry about a human courting her? Would he be Prince Rick?

I took those thoughts out back and shoved them into the freeze box in my mind. Then, I let the door fly open.

And there he was. Smiling. Awake.

Twilight walked over to his bedside, whimpering all the while.

My job was done, for now.


I looked away from the corner to hear the door swinging open. There she was, Twilight, the mare in my dreams sounding like an out-of-sync foghorn through my mother’s body. She was here, walking toward me. She was looking like utter shit, not going to lie. Someone must’ve shocked her one too many times as her mane was all over the place. Her crown, which I thought was glued onto her head was off, probably stolen by some thief and being sold on the black market. On her horn lay two rings, one of gold and one of silver. I wasn’t sure what those were for, since I only saw one on her before, but I guess she got an upgrade.

Unlike her rings, her eyes got a downgrade, and a major one at that. They were puffy, bloodshot, and most importantly, open. As she got closer, her side rubbing up against the examination table, I could see clear as day streak marks on her cheeks, that purple fur matted, soaked, and clearly a result of me being injured.

Great. My fault again. Egh.

“Twilight—”

“Rick, you’re alive!”

I thought she was going to snap my head into pieces, but thanks to life, she gently hugged me. She used her wing to gently maneuver me, being extra careful to not ruin the stitches the doctors put down centermass. I groaned as my head smacked right into her chest.

This was… nice. A weird, yet familiar feeling. The weird part is due to the fact that the purple menace was the one doing this to me, but the familiar warmth helped me think of back home. A hug from a friend, a hug from a parent—they feel somewhat the same, yet somewhat different. Maybe my virginity censors are ruining the moment or are blinder than a bat, but I’m just feeling loved right now, if that’s even the word for this. Maybe that’s too strong of a word, actually.

I don’t know, I’m just happy to be here. I hope she doesn’t suffocate me—

As if on cue, she pulled away and looked into my eyes. Her tearful gaze matched me, and I was like,

“Well you look like shit.”

Twilight giggle-snorted into a tizzy. “Thanks. This is what happens when you worry about someone to the point of giving yourself a proper spinal tap.”

I smirked. “Guess that’s why they tell you not to sleep in the waiting room.”

“There’s no waiting room, unfortunately. Although I did get a front row seat to your surgery.”

Raised my eyebrow so fast at that one that I nearly lost it in the ether. “How did you manage that?”

The mare smirked and waved an imaginary credit card at me. “The princess card works like a charm! Also I pay the doctor quite well to keep you alive.”

“Back on my world,” I began, with what I would assume would be a dopey grin on my face. “That doctor wouldn’t have given you a backstage pass.”

“Are doctors that possessive of their patients?” Twilight asked with a slight head tilt.

“Nah,” I said weakly, trying to wave her off. I winced instead, being reminded that I was still hooked to the machine next to me, which angrily whirred in dismay. “Sorry, the doodad beep-boop-boop-bop over there is angry with me.”

“The what?”

“Nevermind.”

Silence pervaded over us, save for that stupid cold shell of a machine. It was still PO’d. This lasted for quite some time, before she dipped, said she was going to go get Starlight and Spike. I watched her leave, and was reminded of what Redheart said to me. I felt that heat grace my cheeks for a moment, before I shut that shit down and forced it into a ten day quarantine. Not only is she not my type, but she’s also a horse. Plus, I’m not that desperate.

Anyway, time to stare at the corner of the room again until Twilight gets back with her friends. Hopefully the nurse won’t come back either so I don’t have to chew her out for putting that thought in my mind. I sighed, and let my mind drift.

That stupid purple maniac…