Waking Up
Shameless O.C. Self Insert
The author clamped his eyes shut harder, a hopeless defence against waking up. As his dreams continued to retreat with the night, he groaned and rolled over, trying to find a position comfortable enough to lure them back. He couldn't find his blanket.
Another groan, and his eyes opened. After a second, they blinked; something wasn't right here. The world looked... clean. The grass was a uniform shade of green, running unbroken in all directions. The clouds were a pure white, and every one of them, large and small, shared the same shape. The trees, too, were far too similar to be real. Most had a single, strong trunk that held a mass of leaves, shaped into a ball. Few had branches to support this mass, and fewer had branches sticking out of them. There were mountains in the distance, and they were a very clear purple, and much steeper than anything he had ever seen before. The whole world smelled fresh, clean—almost new. There were no roads, no buildings in sight, and all the colours he could see were bright pastel.
He looked around at all the unfamiliar scenery, a single question coming to the forefront of his mind. Where... is my house? He tried to stand, but it felt surprisingly awkward, and he fell back to the ground. He rubbed his head and looked down.
"HOLY—" He immediately attempted to scramble away from himself, but he followed until he backed into a rock. In shock, he held his hands—no, his hooves—before his face. His mouth hung open, yet it only issued small squeaking noises that never took the time to form into words. His rational mind crashed, and, left to its own devices, his body did little more than stare at itself and hyperventilate.
Slowly, his mind rebooted, he calmed his breathing, and tried to find an anchor. This is utterly crazy; what did I do last night, Parcheesi? He rubbed his head and closed his eyes, scouring his memory. Could it... no, we banished the demon lord last week, and the last evil scientist was months ago! Was it the warlocks? No, couldn't be; the witches swore they'd protect me. That leaves... No, I haven't played board games since grade school, I know I haven't! Then what—
He stopped, the recollection of the previous night finally worming its way to the forefront. His body, now thoroughly at odds with his mind, was relaxed, having found something of a quiet acceptance with the whole situation. This was good, as it provided a soft landing when his mind finally caught up. The Haiku Deathmatch, he thought. I lost the Haiku deathmatch. He collapsed against the rock and decided to be depressed for a while.
This was not turning out to be a good day.
He passed the next hour or so staring at the clouds, trying to find random shapes. It proved pointless; they all looked like 'cloud.' He sighed. How does Lyra sit like this? he wondered, struggling to right himself. Standing, he discovered he had wings when he pushed off one of them. A pegasus, huh? Well, could be worse, I suppose. Testing the new muscles on his back, he looked over his shoulder. At full splay, his jet-black wings were a sight to behold. He looked back over the open field before him. What the hell?
His hooves pounded into the earth, kicking up blades of grass and sending him surging forward over the plains. He ran faster than ever before in his life, and the feeling of freedom—the wind whistling by his ears, his body seeming to float above the ground—was unimaginably glorious. And this is only the warm-up, he thought, spreading his wings.
Ah, flying. He had always dreamed of it, and it was better than he could have hoped for. The wind rushed by his ears, whipping his blood-red mane behind him like a rocket flare. The sky called to him, and so he soared higher, higher, higher, until the air thinned and his breath frosted at his nostrils. He tucked his wings, flipped over his head, and dived. In free fall, he closed his eyes, letting the feel of the air currents guide him. After a few seconds he opened them again, watching the ground rush up at him like it wanted to welcome a friend.
He smiled. Flaring his wings, he pulled his dive into a parabolic descent, skimming the treetops with his belly. He flapped once and again ran into the air, flying side by side with the eagles. He could spend hours like this.
Several hours later, his wings felt like lead. Finally letting his rational mind take the controls again, he found a nearby cloud and landed on it. Curiously, he pawed at the mist under his hooves. How does this hold me? he wondered, just before he chalked it up to magic and let the matter be. Instead, he decided to simply enjoy the view.
The sight of the lake reminded him that he was thirsty. Taking wing again, he glided down to the lakeshore. In spite of his fatigue, he made the descent easily; flying just seemed to come naturally to him. Of course it does, he thought as he landed. No self-insert has ever had troubles before, have they? Why would it— He stopped, catching sight of his reflection in the water. Oh, of course; not a pegasus, but an alacorn. And why not? Why settle for anything less? The water seemed to taste as bitter as his mood. I wonder what other bad tropes they'll—
"Midnight?"
His head shot up, eyes wide, and he looked around frantically for the source of the oddly familiar voice; he found it behind him. She wasn't much shorter than him, but she held her head low, looking up at him with an expression that was both curious and nervous, a light blush on her cheeks. Her scent drifted by on the breeze, and it smelled... good, actually. "Princess Luna," he greeted.
"Oh, Midnight Sable, it is you!" She leapt forward and embraced him in a warm hug, which—after a moment of panic—he returned. "I'm so happy to see you; it's been so long!"
"Uh... happy to see you, too," he said as she let him go, her smile wide and beaming. "Midnight Sable?" he muttered, mostly to himself. Sounds about right. Over the top, so unique it's common, and too 'cool' to make any damn sense.
Her face fell. "Oh, I'm sorry; do you not like that one? I know you went by many names; that one was always my favourite. Better than Strong Ignesious or Obsidian Casper."
Casper? he thought. Like the ghost? A black gho— oh, dear lord. He forced a smile, fighting the urge to bring his hoof to his face. "No, Luna, it's fine. You may call me whatever you like." She broke into a smile again, and her eyes glittered. He couldn't help but feel some of his own smile become genuine at the sight. "So... I notice you're not speaking in the royal 'we' anymore."
"Oh, come on, Midnight; the royal 'we' is only used for public events—you know that. This modern dialect was the hard part, honestly, but I think I've got it down." She smiled coyly. "But if thou likest..."
He chuckled lightly. "It's fine, Luna; whichever makes you more comfortable is fine by me." She liked that, it seemed, the way her cheeks lightened and she looked away. After a moment of silence, he looked around the plains for a new topic of conversation. "This is... quite a distance from Canterlot. What are you doing all the way out here?"
Her blush deepened, and she looked to the ground. "I... had to get away, is all," she said. "Can we..." She quickly trotted over to the lakeshore. "Can we not talk about it? Couldn't we just spend time together, just like old times, when you'd foalsit for us?"
Ah, an old friendship, then, he thought. That must have been a long time ago. "Of course we can, Luna," he said with a slight bow. "Just like old times."
That brought her smile back, he found himself relieved to see. "Thank you, Midnight. It's been so long since I could just be myself, you know? To get away from all the hustle and bustle of the capitol city." She spread her wings and tilted her head back, her eyes closed. "It's good to be free. Sometimes I wish I could just fly away."
By Celestia, she did smell good. Oh, jeez, did I just think that? Less than a day in Equestria and I'm already using pony expressions subconsciously. I have got to get out of here. Outwardly, he only chuckled. "Well, Princess, in that case, let's run away together. We'll go wherever you want to, and we'll leave behind all the boring paperwork of the nation."
Luna looked at him, her mouth agape, yet smiling. "Midnight, I could never do that! How can you expect me to abandon my subjects?"
He shrugged. "I'd have you back by dinner."
This time, she laughed. "Aw, you'd do that for me?"
"Of course; anything to help."
Curiously, her joyful demeanour faded, and she looked out over the open landscape, out to the east. "...anything," she whispered. Before Midnight could speak, she turned to face him again. "Midnight, I... I'm glad I ran into you. I've always... liked you, trusted you, ever since I was small. I can't think of anyone else I'd want to help me with this. I..." She paused, struggling, it seemed, to find the words. Finally: "I'm in heat! It's been over a week now, and it's becoming unbearable! Please! Help me put out this fire inside me!"
Midnight blinked. Before him, Luna stood expectant, hopeful. Her cheeks were almost glowing red, but she refused to look away from his eyes. Her scent, somehow stronger now, carried over on the wind; it was a warm, coaxing smell, and it stirred him, beckoned him, urged him forward. He looked down at her trembling form. Perhaps it was because he was, himself, now a pony, but she looked more beautiful than he could ever remember.
"No." Luna's breath came up short. "No," the author repeated, "I'm not writing this; I don't care how bad my haiku was. And what's with that dialogue? 'Oh, Celestia, I'm in heat, please stick something inside me!' That is exactly the kind of bad writing that ends up on WTFPonyFanfiction, and I will not be a party to that. And you!" He pointed at Luna, who looked close to tears. "You are a creature of millennia, and you expect me to believe that you've never had to deal with this before? Or that you found some random stallion you just happened to share an intimate connection with every damn time? What, is your magic just for show? You've got to have some spell that deals with this; why not just use that?"
Luna had stopped breathing. Her mouth opened, trying, ineffectually, to make some words come out. After some seconds, she settled for a faint glow of her horn, and her scent—thankfully—faded; the author breathed a sigh of relief. Luna stared at the ground, utterly refusing to look his way. The silence stretched, until Luna finally made a coughing noise. "I... I'm sorry, Midnight; I can't believe I forgot about that."
He smiled warmly. "It's quite alright, Luna; don't worry about it." She remained unconvinced. "Hey, now, everyone makes silly mistakes every now and again. Did I ever tell you about the time when I..."
They spent the next few hours by the lake, him telling her tales of silliness in the hopes that she'd start feeling a little better. Gradually, she began smiling again and laughing lightly at his bad jokes, but she was still quietly reserved. Even so, they both found themselves hungry, and so he suggested that they have a picnic. When Luna didn't object, he found them some wildflowers by the lake. Midnight, however, was unaccustomed to eating such things.
"Ow!" Midnight spat out the stem, a small bit of blood sticking to a thorn on its side. He stuck his bleeding tongue out as far as it would reach, trying to see how bad it was. Luna chuckled at the sight, and he pouted at her, tongue hanging from his mouth. "Thith hurtth, you know."
She returned his pout with a teasing glance. "Would you like me to lick it better?"
"Would you?" He shook his head vigorously in her direction, causing small drops of blood and copious amounts of saliva to pepper the princess.
"Ack!" she cried, hiding behind her wing. "Quit it! Quit it!" Her laughter rang across the lake like chimes.
"Theah," he said, relenting. "That'th the pwintheth I wemembah. The young, carefwee pwintheth who waughed at a bwoken wing."
She smiled, nostalgic. "I'd forgotten about that."
"It'th who you awe: happy. Don't wet a thingle, thilly mithtake change that. Wife ith full of wittle hiccupth , and if we wet them twip uth evewy time, we'd never get anywhere."
"You sound like an idiot when you talk like that."
"Do I? Wew, thith idiot pwomitheth that he wiw never tew anyone about what happened here. It wiw be ouw wittle thecret."
Luna may have wanted to respond, may have wanted to say 'thanks,' but she was interrupted by the sound of wingbeats. A few seconds later, her sister landed beside her. "Luna! Thank me, I've found you! You must come quick; Discord..." She stopped, catching sight of Midnight. "Strong Ignesious? Is that you?"
"Um... yeth, that'th—" He sucked his tongue back in. "Yes, that's me."
He found himself in another warm embrace. "Ignesious! I can't believe you're back! So many centuries, I..." Slowly, she let go and took several steps back. "...but if you're here, then... my sun, the prophecy is true!"
"The prophecy?" Luna was on her hooves. "You mean...?"
Celestia nodded. "Discord has gathered an army of darkness, and even now he marches it against us. By this time tomorrow, this army will reach our borders."
Luna was trembling. "What... what can we do?"
"Fly back to the palace," Celestia responded. "Gather the troops; prepare them to defend the land."
"You didn't do that already?" the author asked.
Celestia shook her head. "I came to find Luna the moment I heard. I... may not have been thinking completely clearly."
"What about you?" Luna asked.
Celestia smiled. "The flight here was long, and I am weary. Go; I will discuss plans with Ignesious, and we shall join you as soon as I am ready." Luna nodded, and, with one last look at the author, took wing.
He watched her go until she was out of sight. "So," he said, looking back at Celestia, "Discord, huh? With an army?" She nodded. "Doesn't really seem like him; he seems more like a gamer, not a warmonger."
"Do you know him that well?" Celestia asked, stepping closer.
"Not really, but that's the impression I get from him." He shrugged. "Could be wrong, though."
"No," she cried, "that can't be! The prophecy says you're the only one who can defeat him. I'm sure you're right."
"Oh, right," he mumbled. "That thing."
"Do you not believe in prophecies?"
"Let's just say that I don't put much stock in them. I mean, if I am right about Discord, then why does he have an army? I wouldn't think he'd go for one." She said nothing to that, so he shrugged. "In any case, I'd need to see what he's bringing before I can formulate any sort of plans." He stood and spread his wings.
"Um…" He paused, waiting for Celestia to continue. "Before you go, I… noticed you helped Luna out with her, um… heat cycle."
"Hm? Oh, yeah, that," he said absently. "Don't worry about it; she'll be focused, and she won't cause any distractions to the men." He blinked. "Stallions."
"Oh, no, I was just… wondering if you'd… do me, too."
Slowly, his face locked in an emotionless mask, he turned his head to face her. She wore a blush on her cheeks, a nervous smile on her lips, and she was looking at him askance, partially hiding behind her wing.
I hate this story already.