• Published 19th Apr 2021
  • 12,385 Views, 391 Comments

Junior - Fuggmann



A young filly fathered by a human finds growing up as a hybrid isn't without it's trials and tribulations. (RGRE)

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A Camping We Will Go! (4)

”Perhaps we should help your friends with team 3?”

You and your friends turn to Dad, who is watching Sweet unsuccessfully pull apart the mess Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo created. The Scoutmaster grits her teeth and yanks at a knot in the tent with her magic, doing little but make the fabric groan and strain. Rarity, meanwhile, is frantically reading the worn pamphlet of instructions to the tent off to the side. From how her brow is sweating, you’re guessing she’s not really finding anything that can help. The Troublemaker Trio are still bickering… Well, Applebloom and Scootaloo are. Sweetie Belle is tangled in the tent somehow and just lays limp, resigned to her fate.

Dad crosses his arms and hums deep in his chest. “They seem to have made quite the kerfuffle.”

”Erm…” Apogee is the first to answer. She flutters her wings unsurely and paws the dirt. “Do you want to help, Mister Heart?”

Dad answers by walking over, stepping over Luft and Zala with one extra-long stride.

With a sigh, you look over to the girls. “C’mon. Let's go run interference if Sweet tries to send him off.”

You trot after Dad, and Luft, Zala, and Apogee fall into step with you.

Rarity looks up as Dad’s shadow covers her, and the relief that washes over her face is immediate. “Anonymous, thank goodness!” She sets the pamphlet in her magic back in the tent bag and trots a few steps closer, meeting Dad at the edge of Team 2’s spot. “The girls got a little overeager, and, well…”

”I see…” Dad nods. “May I?” He gestures at the mess with a hand.

”I think this one is a little above you, sweety,” Sweet huffs and yanks the knot in her telekinetic grip again. Now that you’re closer, you can see that two of the corners of the tent are tied in a simple overhoof knot, but Sweet just can’t get it loose.

”Applebloom must have yanked it tightly if Sweet can’t undo it,” Zala says exactly what’s on your mind. The zebra frowns just a little. “Will Mister Heart be able to-”

Dad ignores Sweet and steps in, bending over to better reach... and despite his pants being loose, it leaves almost nothing to the imagination if you’re looking at him from behind.

”Holy hay, you could bounce a bit off a rump like that…” You hear Scootaloo whisper to Applebloom, who desperately looks everywhere else while a full-face blush travels down her neck. Behind them, Rarity pretends to not notice, but you know she’s looking.

”No joke.” Apogee quietly agrees with a nod and a pink muzzle.

You scowl and stomp on her hoof, making your pegasus pal replace her grin with a pained wince. “What did I say about dirty fantasies?!” You harshly whisper.

Meanwhile, Dad takes the knot in his hands and pinches each side before he pulls with just his wrists. The knot resists for about half a second, making the tendons and muscles in Dad’s hand stand up. Then the knot unravels with a sharp ‘clang!’ when the securing loops on the corners deflect off each other. Dad then reaches into the remaining tangled bits of the tent, and Sweetie Belle squeaks when he grabs her with a single hand by the scruff of her neck. He gently pulls her from the tent like a blushing kitten and sets her down. Finally, he lifts the edges of the tent with a quick flourish, laying it out in a nearly perfect square.

”There we go!” He grins and stands. “Now, how about you girls give it another go under Madam Scoutmaster’s expert eye?”

The flattery just barely keeps Sweet's sexist temper in check. She chews on her words as if they were sour. “Thank you, Mister Heart… I’ll see to it from here…” She exhales sharply and turns her venom-green eyes to Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and Applebloom, who all freeze up. “From the top, girls.”

Dad bows out, so you and the girls follow him back to your spot, looking back as Sweet painstakingly guides the CMC through putting up their tent.

After making sure that Team 3’s tent is up and not going to spontaneously combust, Sweet Biscuit huffs and trots to the middle of the field between all the packed-dirt camping spots. “Okay, scouts and parents!” She shouts, making all eyes turn to her. “We’re going to get our bonfire ready to go before it gets too dark,” she says, waving a beige hoof to the center of the campground where a ring of stones sit around a mound of ash. “This is going towards your woodcutting merit badge. Everypony is to bring back one log no less than one hoof wide, and no more than three hooves long. Be careful with your saw! Call me over once you have it, and I’ll watch you split it! Remember the wood types we discussed at the last meeting!”

”Wood types?” You blink. “I don’t remember that one…”

”You fell asleep at that meeting, Junior,” Zala gives you a sidelong glance. “I can’t really blame you, though. The Scoutmaster was… rather dry in her delivery of the subject.”

Apogee shakes her head. “How hard could it be? It’s just firewood. It’s everywhere when you’re in a forest.” She trots over to where her saddlebags are laid out and pokes her muzzle inside, returning with her folded saw a second later. “Easy!” She mumbles past the plastic handle.

A deep chuckle draws you and your friend’s eyes to Dad. “You would be surprised, Miss Apogee,” he says, leaning down and unstrapping his hatchet from the side of his backpack. He straps the hatchet to his belt and turns to you and the girls again. “You cannot just cut down any wood to use. Fresh wood or rotted wood will be a pain to burn, and some softwoods like pine burn hot, but burn fast and are very smokey due to the sticky resin in the wood.” He reaches down into his bag again and this time withdraws a folded map in one hand and a compass that looks tiny in his other hand. “We’ll venture out for something nice, yes? Has the good Scoutmaster taught you girls land navigation yet?”

”I don’t believe so, Mister Heart.” Luft shakes her head and flutters her wings in a nervous tic. “That's only for the 5th and 6th year scouts.”

”Hrm,” Dad looks down at the map and compass before shrugging. “Understandable. I’ll plot our course this time. Next time, I’ll teach you girls. I suppose the land is flat and forgiving here, so any lessons would not stick well. I did not bring all the supplies, anyway, like my… My…” He stops and thinks, eyes looking around as he tries to find the word. “My half-circle... math tool? [Protractor]. The word escapes me right now.”

“Protractor is the word you want, dad.” You help your floundering old man out then raise an eyebrow. “Why would we need one for a map?”

Dad looks at you like you grew a horn and wings, then throws his head back and roars in laughter. The noise is so loud it echoes off the trees and makes everyone in the campground look, making you want to shrink with a cringe. “Oh, my sweet child,” he wipes a tear away and smiles so wide that it has to hurt. “My sweet, begging-to-be-lost child. One day, you will learn. Until that day, I gladly guide you.”

The old man gets his laughter under control and clears his throat. “Okay, let us begin.” He unfolds the map and pops open the comically small compass. After a second of staring at the map, he nods. “I think I have our orientation. Let us be off!”


After a short hike to the north, where you totally didn’t fume the entire time as all three of your friends stared at your dad’s ass, Dad stops everyone at a small junction of paths. ”If my skills have not dulled too much…” He glances between his map and compass. “Then ahead should be a clearing where the weather team accidentally let a whirlwind touch down some time ago. The damage should have felled some trees and left us with much dead oak to work with.”

”Whirlwind? As in a tornado?” Zala asks, leaning to the side of the single-file line to peer past Dad’s legs.

”Yeah, my dad said the weather team lost control of a stormfront a few months ago and it ripped up some of the woods.” Apogee nods her head rapidly. “I didn’t really notice it, though.”

“The snooty part of town has a weather ward or something.” You turn to Apogee. “It dulls anything harsh like wind and storms I noticed.” You flick an ear when you remember the odd tickling feeling of walking through the invisible dome. “Remember that night when we were at your place and that Everfree storm rolled in? The one the weather team kinda just gave up on?”

”Hey, yeah…" Apogee rubs her round face with a hoof as she thinks back. “It didn’t seem all that bad.”

”Is there truly magic making a weather ward there?” Luftkrieg turns to you with surprise written on her face. “How do you know that?”

Dad starts walking again, and everyone quickly scrambles to get back in line and keep up. “That, girls, would be the blood of man in [mini-me],” Dad says with a smile. “One can feel it in their veins and their spine, feel the [heebie-jeebies] when magic is afoot.”

”The [hrebjnighsj-jerenighs]?”

You wince when Zala hopelessly mangles the english coming out of her mouth. “It just means an uneasy feeling, is all,” you say, looking back at her.

”Oh wow…”

You turn back and stop abruptly so you don’t run into Luftkrieg. Then you look around and feel your eyes widen at the scene of devastation around you. Dad wasn’t joking. The tornado several months ago ripped and broke the trees all around, leaving a mangled field with a hole in the canopy letting the slowly setting sun stream in. The plants have already begun to reclaim the damage, leaving many of the fallen trees wrapped with vines and surrounded by stubborn green seedlings.

Dad carefully steps around the seedlings as he walks to the nearest fallen tree, one roughly as thick around as your barrel. “Take care not to trample the small trees, girls,” he warns as he draws his hatchet with his right hand. “They will grow up to heal this place. It would reflect well upon us to be respectful.” He taps the side of one of the dead trees with the side of his hatchet, then he lifts and drives the hatchet deep into the side of the wood with a resounding THUNK that you can feel in your chest. ”Dry and dead,” He smiles and yanks his hatchet free. “Go on, girls. Collect your wood. I’ll bring a bit back myself just in case it’s needed.” He lifts the hatchet and in single swipes, begins hacking off smaller limbs on the fallen tree.

You roll your eyes, already knowing he’s going to bring a whole damn tree with him. “C’mon girls, let's get to work.” You dip your muzzle into your saddlebag and pull out the crumby folding saw that the Fillyscouts provide and look around.

”How about this one?” Apogee makes a fluttering hop over a patch of tall grass to a decently thick tree limb on the ground, one long enough to give you, her, Zala, and Luft all a log between the lengths that Sweet stressed.

You get to sawing on one end, already knowing the crappy, wobbling, chineighs saw is going to take forever to actually cut through. Back and forth, back and forth. Already you can feel a crick in your neck and the rubber mouthpiece tastes terrible.

While you and your friends are sawing, Zala, Luftkrieg, and Apogee keep flinching when Dad brings his hatchet down like thunder about 20 feet away. You just pin your ears back and keep working.

Dad finishes his log in just under half a minute. When you hear him mutter “oops” and see his hatchet blast through the log one last time, this time kicking up dirt rather than wood chips, you know he’s done. He lifts the log and places it over his shoulder, waiting for you and your friends to finish.

You growl and saw faster, but the crummy saw just keeps getting caught on nothing and it’s really starting to piss you off. A look at your friends shows they’re just as frustrated as you.

Zala has abandoned finesse and is just sawing as hard as she can, which is pretty hard. Like you, her saw just keeps getting stuck. To her credit though, she’s keeping her cool better than you and only looks exasperated.

Poor Apo and Luft are even worse off. The pegasi just don't have the muscle of an earth pony or a zebra, so their efforts are shaving away so little wood that they’re barely a third of the way in. Luftkrieg is going steady, but a well-to-do filly like Apogee just has no stamina and is slowing down as frothy sweat begins to build upon her neck. She lets out a whine, and you see Dad start looking for a place to set his log down so he might come help.

Damn it! You're not having him do everything like you’re some kind of daddy’s filly! A traitorous part of your mind tells you that you are a daddy’s filly, but you ignore it in favor of spitting your saw out, which makes a cheap-sounding clatter against a rock. “Zala, Luft, Apo, back up a sec.” You growl and flex the muscles in your legs. Right, then left. Right, then left.

Apogee doesn't need to be told twice and leaves her saw jammed in the wood. She pants and sits down, uncaring of her badge sash getting caught under her rump and rubbed in the dirt. Luftkrieg looks at you knowingly and yanks her saw free before setting down by Apogee. Zala, meanwhile, raises an eyebrow. “Are you certain, Junior? I'm fine helping.”

You don’t answer, too busy swaying from one side to the other. Like pumps, you can feel the muscles in your legs churning and agitating the earth pony magic in your body like a liquid. You can almost hear it slosh as your head begins to feel light and your body hot. Even the summer air feels chilled in your lungs. Much like dad does when he flexes his own strength, you feel your muscles bulk up and strain against your skin, drawing sharp lines across your green coat as the now raging magic in your body flows like an uncapped dam. You suck in one final breath and hold it so you don’t lose focus.

Before Dad makes his way over, you twist and lash out with a single-legged buck, smashing your hoof against the halfway cut section of log and snapping it along the cut with an echoing ‘Crack!’ as if it were a twig. Before your burst of might fades, you hop to Zala’s section and kick again, and once more the wood cracks down the cut with almost no resistance as your hoof bites deeply into the bark, leaving a very clear indent. The breath you sucked in is beginning to burn your lungs, so you jump and strike Luftkrieg and Apogee’s cuts as fast as you can, making two more loud ‘crack!’s and leaving you with four logs.

You choke and screw your eyes shut when you cough a gout of hissing steam that makes your throat uncomfortably warm. At once, your strength fades, leaving you feeling hot and achy under your coat, so you don’t object when you feel Luftkrieg come and press herself to your side to keep you steady. “Are you okay, Junior? You didn’t need to go that far…” Luft sounds concerned as she stretches a wing across your back.

You do a full-body shake, airing out your green fur with deliciously cool air and sigh. “I’m fine, thanks. There we have it, though. Four logs.” You smirk and turn to Zala and Apogee as Luft backs off, ignoring both Dad’s stare and how your legs feel like lead. “Let's get going.”

Everyone sans Dad, who has, as you expected, a small de-limbed tree on his shoulder, take a log and start back down the path Dad marked back to the campsite. As you walk and focus on keeping the log balanced across your back, you fall behind a bit as your legs still ache some.

Dad slowly reduces his walking speed until he’s beside you. His foal-ish green eyes look down at you with clear concern, but he’s sure to keep the girls in his peripherals. “[Are you okay, Junior?]” He quietly asks in English. “[You didn’t need to do that. I would have been glad to help.]”

You grunt. “[I know, but I don’t want you doing everything. It’s not much of a camping trip if you do all the camping for us. Besides, I’m fine, aren’t I?]”

His lips slowly pull downward into a frown, and the expression of worry on his usually smiling face is so strange that guilt gnaws at you. “[You broke your leg last time… It’s why I told you not to do that.]”

“[I was just a little filly then,]” You argue, but your voice has much less bite than you intended. “[I can handle it now. Did you expect me to stay a wimp forever?]”

”[A daughter of mine? A wimp? Hah! Never!]” Dad’s amusement quickly bleeds off and returns to being somber as he shifts the giant log on his shoulder. “[But I die a little each time you’re hurt, daughter dearest.]” His tone makes your stomach twist into a knot. “[I feel... like I’ve failed you each time I can’t help you. I know that you won’t always be a little filly, and already you’re growing into a fine young mare, maybe too fast for my taste, but please promise me you’ll be careful with your magic? I’m not mincing words when I say that you’re a miracle, my precious firstborn. If something happened to you, they’d have to cart me to an asylum.]”

Gah, Faust damn it all! Damn Dad’s fucked up ability to make you feel like this for winning an argument! You bite your lip and look around at the greenery, not trusting your mouth. After several seconds of silence, you nod your head.

Dad’s smile soaks up all the guilt you feel in hardly a second. “That is all I ask.”

You hold your nose up without bothering to reply and speed up, matching the pace of your friends.

”What was that about?” Apogee asks, shifting her wings so her log doesn’t fall.

“The old man was just worrywarting.” You roll your eyes. “Nothing big.”

It doesn't take long to get back to camp, but when your group emerges from the treeline, you see all the other teams already have their wood and are gathered near the firepit as Sweet watches everyone split their logs on a nearby stump. She has to duck when Applebloom wobbles and brings the splitting ax in her hooves down too violently, throwing a lopsided bit of firewood over Sweet’s head.

As if she has eyes on the back of her head, Sweet’s head snaps and looks at your team as you all come into view. “Team 2! Where in Tartarus were you?!” She asks, eyes narrowed to angry slits.

”We… were out gathering firewood?” Luftkrieg supplies with a cringe. She shrinks when Sweet only seems to get angrier.

”Who said you could leave the campsite?!” She raises a hoof to pause the Scootaloo, who is standing on her shaky hindlegs with a heavy splitting maul held in her hooves. Sweet practically stomps up and poor pony-pleaser Luft looks almost ready to cry.

”If there is anyone to take your anger out on, Madam Scoutmaster…” Dad calmly steps right over Luftkrieg and shields the pegasus from Sweet’s wrath. “It would be I. I wished to gather quality wood and begin teaching the girls the finer points of land navigation. I did not know leaving the campground was forbidden, and I apologize.”

Sweet takes a deep breath and rubs her muzzle with a disgruntled sigh. “Mister Heart, you’re on thin ice. I understand that stallions don't have much in the way of impulse control, but it’s always been a Fillyscout rule to stay in the campsite where a mare can supervise. Don’t. Do. It. Again.” She looks up at the log on his shoulder. “That's longer than Fillyscout hoofbook regulation. Have your scouts cut it down to size and get in line for woodcutting.” Then she turns around and trots back.

”We were barely a 5 minute walk away…” Zala murmurs. “Is it really that much of an issue?”

“Power-tripping bitch!” You snarl, not caring that your dad can hear you curse. Gnashing your teeth, you resist the urge to run up and put a rear hoof up Sweet’s ass.

“Girls, we broke the rules and Madam Scoutmaster is being very lenient,” Dad coolly waves it off like nothing happened. “Let me break this down, then we get in line,” he says with a nod as he sets one side of his log on the ground. With one hand on the raised end, he braces a boot on the middle and puts his weight down.

Crrraaaaccckkkk!

...Then he snaps a hunk of oak as thick around as a small mare with a staccato of cracks and crunches with the same ease he might break a pencil, forcing everyone to look over with wide, startled eyes, Scoutmaster Sweet included.

Dad hums to himself as he inspects his now halved log, which is roughly five or so hooves long. “Three hooves is the maximum length, yes?”

Zala finds her voice first and clears her throat. “E-erm, yes, Mister Heart.” She looks at the broken and mangled end of the wood in Dad’s hands as she speaks.

”Thank you, Miss Zala,” Dad gives the zebra a warm smile, making her turn pink and look away. Then he raises the still-too-long log and busts it over his knee with a tooth-rattling CRACK!

There’s no mistaking the wince on Sweet’s face at the noise, and you can't help but hide a snicker behind a hoof. The others might not notice it, but there’s an oh-so faint smirk on Dad’s lips.

‘I knew the old man wouldn’t take her shit lying down.’


“Did you see the look on the scoutmaster’s face when Mister Heart ripped that log in half?!”

”I don't blame her, really. I knew Mister Heart was strong but oh mare…”

The sun has set, and since one of the fillies in one of the other team’s needed six tries to get her woodcutting badge, it left little time around the fire before bedtime. Fire-cooked haydogs were had for dinner and the night was capped by a single goofy campfire song that Scoutmaster Sweet led. For being a cunt, she’s actually got a pretty nice singing voice. The song went well until Team 3 tried to improvise half-way in hoping for singing cutie marks, and well…

The less said the better. Your ears still hurt a little.

You lay back in your sleeping bag, forelegs curled on your chest as your friends talk quietly in the dark. The night is cool and dry, so you all decided to take the rainfly off so the net-ceiling of the tent lets the breeze and starlight in. The rainfly sits in the corner of the tent along with everyone’s discarded bags, hats, and badge sashes. Just a little bit away, between campsites two and three, you can hear Dad talking to Rarity quietly over the sounds of the crickets.

Looking up at the stars makes your mind wander back to earlier today when you were waiting for dad in the den. The map he drew from memory springs to your mind. Idly, you wonder if the constellations are different back in Amareica. If it’s so far away that there’s no hope of going there, it must be really far, far away, like the other side of the planet.

”Hey, Junior?”

You shift in your sleeping back and look at the voice, finding Apogee’s pink eyes staring back at you. Besider her, you can see Luft and Zala’s eyes too. “What's up, sis?”

”How did you do the super-strength thing?” Apogee asks, scooting a little closer and making the polyester floor of the tent crinkle. “That was rad what you did in the forest!”

Oh, right. Only Zala really knows. Luftkrieg has seen you use it before, but never asked. Apogee has been your friend for the least amount of time at just a few months.

“Just earth pony magic is all,” you lay your head in your hooves and stretch out. “If you put human muscles together with magic, you get Supermare. My magic doesn’t flow very fast, though, so I’ve gotta focus and warm it up a bit if I really want to use it all.”

Apogee’s mouth drops open into a little “o”.

”Buuuut…” Zala starts knowingly, making you scowl. “Junior, they should know just in case...”

Resisting the urge to bare your teeth at the zebra, you keep talking. “But I overheat really fast and can bust myself up if I go full tilt for too long.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that!” Apogee jumps in with a wide smile. “Every superpower has to have a weakness!” She wilts a little when everyone turns and looks at her strangely, but mares up and keeps going. “It’s like you in a Marevel movie! A young filly in a small town, born to an alien with superpowers and she gets superpowers of her own!” Even in the dark, it’s easy to see your pegasus pal’s eyes shine. “Oh mare, I gotta go look up if pegasi can learn to do alternative magic like that! Then we can be a whole team of superfillies!”

You just wrinkle your muzzle. “I hate capeshit. And my dad’s not an alien.”

”Well, it’s still rather remarkable.” Luftkrieg says, shifting her pillow and laying down chin-first into it. “Mein sister might like to talk to you sometime. Junior. She’s studying genetics and biology at Canterlot University. I didn’t know your heritage was more than cosmetic.”

”You girls still awake?” Dad suddenly asks from outside the tent, making Zala, Luft, and Apo all jump and stifle yelps. You didn’t hear him coming either, but are long since used to how he can creep silently. “You should get to bed. We’re due to awaken bright and early tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re heading that way.” You tell him, then move to snuggle deeper into your warm sleeping bag, looking forward to sleeping off the fatigue using your magic left you with.

”Actually, Junior, could you come here for a moment?” He asks, voice now coming from behind the zip-up door.

With a long-suffering sigh, you pull yourself from your sleeping bag and walk over to the door before unzipping it. “What do you want, old ma-!?”

Dad’s hands move like lightning and snag you up before you can struggle, then you feel him press his lips to your scalp and kiss you with a very embarrassing, very audible smooch that you know your friends hear. “I love you, [mini-me]. Sleep tight.” He chuckles and puts you down before zipping up your tent.

You wait, face burning a bright red, until Dad settles in his own tent before turning around and glaring holes into your friends. “Not. A. Word.”

All of them are silent as you stomp back to your sleeping bag and roughly drop into it. Then; “If you don’t want it, I’ll volunteer to take his next kiss.”

Your pillow hits Zala’s face dead center despite the dark.

Author's Note:

A big thanks to NurseBold, Nicolas H, Tim M, ncskeeter56, Thomas D, Avo, S. Nutter, Lucy B, Lars H, Jesper B, Frogsamurai, Bunny Waffles, Kalafalafakah, Fabhar, Zach C, Dicky W, Sashank U, Patrick I, MidnightJayguar, Tyric Gaias, No Thanks, Michael M, Jeremiah Z, Alex G, Meadow, Spencer S, Taylor V, Jeremy H, Ethan S, Ben, Scott E, Johnathan C, Josh T, marcellis97, Powernap, rooster196, Johnathan D, Sukaleska, Ampharos3, Nick R, Tiemi, Ryan S, Irene, Sarah D, Xegzy, Leaveinlimbo, Zhanibek A, Earthpatriot117, CheesePie25, John T, Thundatwin, Deohn L, TwentyThousandCats, MooMoo195, itsawaffle, Rafael B, Esquire, Ashby T, Mitchell S, Spencer K, Siphon Rayzar, Mrbucky92, ItsCool, wishindo, Sandesh, Obsidianking, Berd, Josh D, ToolsOfTrypticon, Jorge B, Kyle P, Brett T, Cynicalto, Friendship is Carrots, Destin B, Brian T, Tayler, Eriermence, Dominic M, Adian S, C&C, Duncan K, Dylan R, Manowargs, Steven C, and Webmaster for being patrons.

An extra big thanks to Drekin, Teigen S, Lennert B, K, Andres, Stays Secret, Paul F, VandheerXLorde, Dusks_Lantern, xydra22, Jordan M, and Sprektomogankai for being high-level patrons.

A special thanks to Spartanstoryteller for being a mad-lad level patron.

Last but certainly not least, a very special thanks to BrokenOlive, Nekusar, and Konrule for being top-level patrons. (I’m seriously stunned that there are three of you)