Assorted Shorts of Shy Symphony

The Assorted Random Stories of Sad Symphony

[ctrl+f for NONLEWD]

[LEWD]

    >nopony even knew she existed
    >it was just as well, you didn't want the world to know she existed, and neither did she
    >Sad Symphony was a pale blue in body color, her hair alternating shades of sky and pond scum green
    >while you cut wood with Burnt Oak, hauled baskets of apples with the Apple clan, she stayed at home, perfecting her art, though nobody would hear her wondrous one pony symphonies but you
    >while your back broke, your limbs burned, while every piece of you strained and wanted to quit, you couldn't. You had to do it....for her


    >killing yourself in the human world had been the best decision you'd ever made
    >or at least, what your brain told you was the best decision it'd ever made while the DMT and other chemicals rushed to it
    >But this seemed real. as real as anything you'd ever felt before
    >her pelt was soft as satin and silk and cotton, her mane like a tangle of spun sugar, wrapping over her long, elegant neck, parted at her horn and forehead so she could manipulate the strings of her violin without interruption
    >her house, which you'd landed in, was a single story affair, just enough room for two ponies, though before you, it'd only been one
    >"Symph, what's for dinner?" you asked, kicking off your boots at the door and heading inside in your socks
    >it wasn't the most extravagent of places, but she welcomed you with a clingy hug, both her front limbs wrapped around your waist while you clutched her neck back, holding her against you, both of you inhaling deep lungfuls of one another's scent
    >"D'aw....I missed you too Symph~"


    >two things about Symph kept her from the outside world
    >she was mute and spoke only through song, and her parents had wrangled her up and kept her a secret
    >she still lived in that same house with the ghosts of her parents haunting her dreams and waking hours
    >but now she had you to cling to instead
    >you knelt, to be more in reach of her wrapping limbs, hugging her tight and planting soft smooch against the join of her horn and forehead, kissing completely around it
    >"Yes Symph, I really DID miss you, stop that." she could pass simple emotions through her horn magic, but mostly it was her body language that told you all you needed to know
    >your dull nails scraped through her mane, stroking her rhythmically while left arm rested overtop of her back, clutching her close and sweet and tight
    >despite the fact she never left the house, she smelled like mints and fresh grass
    >you didn't bother trying to convince her to perform anymore, that only earned you silence for at least a week
    >"Did your practice go well?"
    >she replied with a smile, and a flourish of whispy, ethereal sounding notes on her instrumet, looking awful damn proud of herself.
    >"Good girl," you said, patting her head and ruffling her ears.

    >huff sounded from her nostrils and mouth while you molested her ears, taking each one between your thumb and forefinger, stroking in small circles upon the heated inner and fuzz covered outer portions
    >rest of your palms were cupped against her jawbone and sides of scruff
    >you dipped your head down, planting soft kisses over and over and over upon her nostrils, fuzzy lips, and the sensitive join of horn and forehead, attacking all of her sensitive spots at once
    >deep squeal rumbled from her throat, and she 'hugged' you tighter, squishing your chest against hers, the pony rising up to eye level with you, peppering your lips and cheeks with affections
    >your arms and hands mirrored hers, wrapping her upper neck and over shoulder blades, clutching her tight, sweetly pecking and leaving tiny hickies beneat the horrse's pelt
    >"Whoa now, what's got into you Symph?" you asked, though she looked up at you pathetically and used her blunt, heavy horseteeth to bite your bottom lip, suckling back'n dragging down
    >as you touched her, even your dull human sense could feel the change in her temperature now
    >"Damn Symph....how long?"
    >she struck the ground twice with her hoof, her violin striking up a worried sounding tune
    >"It's alright...I'll take care of you.." you huffed, laying an affectionate slap on her right flank.

    >you essentially had a stay-at-home wife, despite the fact you weren't married, or were even sure she was a girlfriend or just a woman you lived with who relied on you
    >it amounted to the same thing in your opinion
    >you couldn't quite get hers on the matter, but it seemed she at least liked having you around
    >from her body language, you gathered she got lonely a lot, at least, though you had much to learn about tiny horses
    >your hand slipped under her chin, tilting her head upward, the perfect angle for a deep, hungry, loving liplock, her much larger tongue dipping into your mouth, twirling and writhing upon one another like a nest of mating serpents
    >you stroked over her back with all of your fingers, scraping deep furrows into the flesh along her shoulderblades, spine, and the muscles to either side of it, right on down to her tail
    >gave that tail a tug, and that ass a loving slap, growling into her mouth, the vibration of it rolling along your tongue and deep into her own mouth muscle
    >Symph pushed forward, rolling you onto your ass and partway on your elbows
    >the magic that manipulated her violin's bow so well manipulated your pants, tugging them down around your thighs


    >the same magic formed a seagreen hue around your semi-hard penis, and through unicorn magic, riled it up to full mast in a matter of seconds
    >it was a tingle, like your leg had fallen asleep, combined with a rush of blood and pulsation, increasing your heart beat and pressure, making for a fully unique experience as the unicorn played a tune on your prick, sawing across the heavy vein like the basic strings of an instrument
    >C, D, and G, that was all you were, the basic shit and easily manipulated, yet the girl strummed hard on your very human cock, plucking and tugging the secondary and tertiary veins and artieries, feeling like her violin bow was sawing across you
    >you leaned back, propped on your elbows while Symph nearly caused your dick to burn from the friction of her magic
    >to cool it, she cast her long, wide tongue from balls to tip, giving slurpy kiss while she cooled your loins, turning attention from cock to lips, kissing you, to forehead, nuzzling you
    >"I'm not an instrument, Symph~" you complained with a grin, headbutting her lightly, scooping her forelimbs up over your shoulders, the silent pony squeaking surprise on her violin.
    >"Don't worry, I still love you." you assured, her musical question broken in half when you hugged her tight and squashed your prick against her tummy

    >your arms lashed out, cutting under her digigrade back limbs, planting her flank into your groin, while you rolled her onto her back, planting all of your weight on top of her
    >she flailed for a moment, not knowing what to do, her instinctual fear hitting her for a moment until she realised it was -you- who had done this, her cheeks flushed
    >your balls rested against her slit, your cock atop of her belly, showing her just how deep you'd be getting once it began, and began to saw that prick against her abdomens, making her flex and twist, her cheeks flushed, your little Symphony still shy
    >both hands clapped her flanks, digging fingers deep into her rump while you forced another hungry kiss into her mouth
    >tiny human mouth muscle slithered past her fuzzy lips and began to twirl with her own, the much larger equine one coiling you like a fat pink python, squeezing
    >you grunted hard, wrapping arms underneath her back, crushing her prodigious chest against yours, humping against her soft underbelly pelt, nuts slapping against her slit
    >she was made for massive stallion cock, so you slid into her easily
    >that slippery, hot, juicy cunt crushed you, pulsations rippling from base to tip as if it was trying to milk you
    >didn't even have to move and that pony twat did all the work for you
    >choking back whimpers, you pulled back, slamming into her, letting her milk you, again and again, the same tug, the same slam, the same squeezing, crushing pressure of her sticky mare pussy

    >you never lasted long
    >burying your dick to the balls, you let her pussy suckle your rod while you kissed her lips deep, hard and hungry
    >each twitch of your loin brought you closer, each squeeze of her twat drew it out of you
    >you couldn't even pummel her guts, she was built for much larger than you had to offer, yet you felt the mouth of her cervix kissing and suckling at your cockhead
    >without warning you blew the biggest, fattest, nastiest wad you had to date up into her belly, collapsing on top of her as she drained your nuts, pullng every wad, slip, and spit of cum into her
    >"Not fair..." you huffed, still atop of her, unable to pull out from the sheer pressure she placed upon you, forcing you to be face to face with her, kiss her, and suckle her neck
    >she made the world's saddest violin noise above your ear
    >"Yeah, fuck you too." you grinned, planting a quick smooch on her fuzzy lips.

[NONLEWD]

[For her]

    >For Her; that was what you told yourself, but you knew it was a lie
    >you liked having someone depend on you, someone who gave your life some semblance of meaning in a world you didn't completely understand and probably didn't belong in
    >Sad Symphony was your golden ticket, your magic pass to something resembling a semi-functional relationship
    >a couple of co-dependents using each other as emotional crutches and supports, duct taping and stitching each others wounded hearts back together even though you knew they fragmented and tore just as often as you could patch them
    >you were both hurt and broken inside
    >she tried to hide it from you, but every now and then her mask would slip and you would be greeted with the blank mask of a woman who had lost hope, both in her future and in her present, the only thing likely keeping her from doing what you did back on earth was your presence
    >the only thing that kept you from doing the same thing again in this alien world you knew nothing of, was getting to hear the rhythmic heartbeat of the pony sprawled out next to you on the thick mattress, her body heat making covers unnecessary

    >as was customary, you were the big spoon, and kept your face buried in her mane while you lay awake, a few hours before dawn, dreading the day to come
    >if you didn't have to buy food you'd likely be just as much of a shut-in as she was
    >you didn't speak to many people, only as much as necessary to ask if things needed doing, whether it was hefting an axe and delivering firewood, hauling baskets of apples, or doing whatever other odd job around town required your assistance
    >you were usually paid in food and small amounts of coin, the latter of which you tucked away under a floorboard beneath the bed you shared, savings for a rainy day, and as much firewood as you could chop and haul back here
    >since her bodyheat was much higher than yours, it generally wasn't necessary, since she liked the physical affection you gave and sprawled atop of you often enough that you jokingly called her a self heating blanket
    >the first time had earned you a swat with her bow, but eventually she took it as it was intended, an affectionate joke
    >it was in these dark hours before the sun rose that you dreaded the most, that this was a dream, that you'd find yourself back home or in a hospital bed with doctors standing over you with disappointed looks on their faces either at the fact you hadn't succeeded or that you'd even tried in the first place
    >you placed your left arm under hers, pressing your palm to her chest, the heavy, rhythmic thud of her heartbeat comforting you and stemming off the wave of panic that was about to overcome you
    >you hadn't let her see that part of you, and hopefully she'd never find out about the dread in your heart and the crushing vice of anxieties that threatened to turn it to pulp with every passing day
    >if this was some sort of coma dream, you never wanted to wake up
    >you inhaled the deep, mint and grass smell of her, and at some point you'd managed to fall asleep again

    >the dawnlight was a cruel way to wake up, and she'd opened every window in your shared room to let in some fresh air, and with it, the sun
    >you could smell breakfast cooking, and you finally lumbered out of bed to greet her in the small kitchen
    >she was swaying to some tune she was humming silently to herself, her unicorn magic covering things in a visible aura while she fried eggs in a skillet and prepared a breakfast salad of fruit, able to manipulate half a dozen things at once, from knife and bowl and various fruit to skillet and spatula
    >couldn't utter a sound, but her hearing was just fine, and it twitched at your approach, swiveling atop her head to pinpoint your location as you approached
    >ash she finished scrambling the eggs you leaned down and kissed her in that favorite spot right at the base of her horn and tussled the side of her head with your fingers while you were at it
    >she blushed furiously and stamped the ground twice and swatted you with the spatula, what you took to be an indication to sit and eat with her
    >you did, happily, and even hand-fed her little pieces of apple, pear, pineapple, and a few other things you couldn't name readily while you ate your own and prepared for the day
    >she seemed to enjoy you hand-feeding her, and not for the first time you realized you had no idea how old she actually was
    >going by the average size of the other tiny horses in town, she was a bit on the small side, her limbs a bit thin, though she'd gotten slightly less scrawny since you started bringing in regular food supply
    >she wasn't a filly, perhaps a young adult that was just a bit undernourished and stunted? you weren't a horse doctor, and couldn't tell by her teeth, no matter how often you stuffed your tongue in her face
    >in the end it didn't matter really, she wasn't a blip on anyone's radar, and you tried to keep it that way; as far as most folks in town knew, you lived here alone

    >your days passed in relative peace, there didn't seem to be much conflict or worry in the everyday life of a tiny horse, the hardest decision they had to make for the most part was what to eat that day or who to hang out with
    >it was a literal paradise and yet you couldn't help but feel apprehensive, nervous, and sometimes nauseous to the point you vomited in the orchard, and sometimes the Apples didn't even see you do it
    >deciding that Symph deserved a treat for putting up with your needy bullshit, you decided to spend a few of your coins at the local bakery, where a hyperactive pink pony was usually manning the counter
    >she'd probably said her name at least forty times, but you couldn't bring yourself to remember it, no more than you'd remember the name of any other cashier at a grocery store back home
    >picking up a few apple fritters from the bakery and some peanut butter, honey, and milk from the general store, you headed home, treats in tow, and feeling....pretty good, all things considered.
    >you heard the soft violin music on the doorstep, and did your best to enter quietly so as not to disrupt her playing while you prepped the treats in the kitchen
    >you didn't get more than three steps into the house before you were rushed, tackled, hugged, and finally, face-violated with her fuzzy, ticklish lips
    >you took the full force of it, not wanting to smash any of your goodies, landing hard on your ass and your back against the door, cracking your skull against the hardwood while she bombarded you with affection
    >aside from the fact a good portion of you felt bruised, you returned the smooches as best you could, "Easy doll, I got fragile treats here," he tilted your head, indicating the small bags you were holding to either side of you
    >looking horrified she backed up, summoning her violin and giving a quick, worried riff that sounded as if it ended in a question, an upward tick in the tone

    >"Yes yes, I'm alright. You could help with these though. Got you a little treat. Still warm from the bakery, so you better hurry before they-"
    >Pulled the packages from your grip and set them on the table, using her powers to quickly unwrap, unscrew, uncork, and ready the treats, slathering the fritters with the peanutbutter and honey and pouring two thick mugs of milk, killing the whole jar at once
    >she looked rather pleased while you ate, sitting there on the floor with her, kissing the crumbs away from her mouth and savoring the mixture of her own sweet flavor and the baked goods still mingling with her saliva
    >tossing an arm around her, you pulled her against you, scritching her mane and ears and enjoying the sound of her satisfied breathing while she relaxed, scooting up into your lap and laying belly-down on you
    >"So...I should probably tell you. Under one of the floorboards under our bed is a little nest egg I've been saving. It's not much but....if anything happens to me, I just want you to know where it is, ok?"
    >her head whipped around so fast you thought her head was going to fall off
    >the pony's violin was a jumbled mess of notes and tunes, like a hundred questions being asked at once
    >"Shhh, shhh, calm down Symph," you cooed in her ear, kissing her horn and hugging her tight, "I'm just saying. I literally dropped into your life and I don't know if i'm going to drop out of it again. I don't know how it works, how I got here, why I got here, and if i'm going to be sent away again. I've been stashing money away in case I do, so you can take care of yourself in the worst case scenario," your forehead ground with hers while the scramble of notes continued, the pony obviously distressed
    >"No, I don't think i'll be going anywhere, but it never hurts to be prepared for the worst, right? I don't -want- to go anywhere, but I don't make the rules of magic or whatever. I'm sorry, this wasn't the best time to bring it up."

    >"Look, there was never going to be a good time to bring it up, and I've been thinking about it awhile. It's a just in case thing, nothing more."
    >you could feel her heart hammering in her chest, heard the violin fall to the floor, and the pony buried her face against your chest, taking care that her horn was angled off to the side so as not to hurt you
    >"It's alright...I'm not going anywhere, I promise." you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and squashed her tight, your mouth close enough to kiss her, but you didn't, just letting your warm, honey-flavored breath wash over the top of her head and ears, something you knew she enjoyed when feeling down or depressed, basically an emotional-patch-all for her.
    >You said nothing more after that, simply enjoyed her physical contact while she shivvered against you, trying her best not to cry as she thought of the worst thing that would happen to her since her parents died. For once, you were almost glad she couldn't speak.


[Shy Gets Drunk]

    >you stayed awake again, staring at the starlit sky, the darkness between the holes
    >you kept cuddling her even after she'd finally shaken herself to sleep with your arms over and under her, your steady breathing against her ears
    >you faked it all
    >but at least she didn't know the difference enough to snore
    >you were up late as usual, well past midnight, probably closer to three or four, huddled up next to her as you usually did
    >she needed the contact, you, not so much, but you enjoyed it all the same

    >each day was a mix of bliss and hell, each day was agony, not knowing if you'd wake up back there, wake up not at all, or some other version of hell you couldn't quite contemplate
    >you took these days one at a time, taking them for what they were worth, for what could be summoned and salvaged
    >so far your only saving grace was your time spent with Symph, whether in the throes of mating passion or the simple pleasure of running your fingers through her mane and and along her neck.
    >turned out your fingers in this world were good for something at least, and you molested her neck and back and ribs with equal measures of teasing, cuddling, and lewdness
    >the other was waking up next to her, usually with all four of her limbs latched onto you like a pastel colored spider, squeezing you tight til either of you woke.
    >you suspected she did as you did, staying awake long into the night just to hear her breathe, feel her heartbeat, inhale her scen

    >applejack's cider could easily be turned to liquor given two additional ingredients
    >baker's yeast and sugar
    >both of which you could get from pink baker horse
    >a barrel of which was two months brewing in your room
    >from cider to hardcore liquor, you dipped two mugs of it and drew it out, one for you, and one for you again, if she didn't take it
    >it was at least 150proof, one thing the horses didn't know about, but you shared only with Symph
    >A fat stein of it was enough to catch a buzz, another was enough to get you almost stumblinng
    >you didn't check her progress, a half stein enough to get her fall-on-torso drunk
    >decided to imbibe this evening, draining your first in a single quaff while she sipped hers and became slowly more intoxicated
    >"Hey," you said, reaching over to gently clasp her left ear, making the girl squeak in surprise and lean in, unable to resist as you tugged her this way and that, ending against your chest so she could hear the beat of your heart

    >you cuddled one another like it was your last days on equestria, and given what you'd last said to her, for her, it may as well have been gospel
    >you drank and she drank, getting hammered without even realizing it, the cider aspect of the booze like a serpent, silent and slow until you were both too intoxicated to move
    >except for you, who could manage to stumble over to the cider barrel and refill your mugs
    >"So tell me ssomething about you I don't know."
    >She scowled, but she was not up to using her violin to display her feelings, a quick scribblescratch of notes, then it dropped to the floor, the girl shaking, but not from anxiety, only from laughter
    >"Ahahahahaha.....write it with your mouth or whatever. Just....tell me something. We barely know each other." you said, even as you leaned sideways and planted a smooch on the corner of her mouth

    >it was true. aside from physical contact and the few times you got her to stamp her hoof or smack you with her bow, you really -didn't- know each other
    >she sat silent and contemplative using her horn magic to drink the liquored cider
    >you did the same, in no hurry to rush her, though you were by now on your fourth mug and getting quite ripped
    >she eventually just shook her head, tilting her face into your chest, her horn at optimal angle for molesting
    >you were too drunk to consider otherwise and wrapped fingers around it, squeezing, releasing, squeezing along the spirals
    >for her it was like a limb, a very sensitive limb
    >for you it was like jacking your own cock, only much more stiff
    >she achieved satisfaction from this, though you didn't know how, nor did you care to know, only that it made her whimper until she fell asleep and passed out
    >you finished your booze and finished hers as well, curling over her to squeeze the mare squishy body
    >it was easy to pass out against her, both of you snoring in each others' faces, and for the first time in a long while you actually got a full night's rest


[Shy Takes a Bath]

    >Shy was a messy bitch
    >you did your best to ignore it, you did your best to clean up when you got home, but you often let it rot just as much as she did
    >still, you had to be presentable, you had to at least look like you gave a shit about the Apple farm or the wood chopping or any of the other odd jobs you took around town to make her life easier
    >a messy pony was something you couldn't stand anymore
    >It'd been weeks since she took a bath, brushed her mane or hair or even brushed her horn
    >thankfully it was one of your days off, thankfully, shit was about to get...clean


    >due to your recent habits, you woke long before she did, the pony sleeping long past noon and almost well into the evening most days until you came home, where you fornicated, drank, and then went to sleep again, repeating the process because it was comfortable and delicious
    >still, her minty, grassy scent had begun to ripen into...something more awful, and while your nostrils weren't as astute as hers, even you began to smell her after a few weeks
    >you made sure she got extra drunk the night before, partying on a saturday night, or the equestrian version of it as far as you could tell
    >stage one was complete, and stage two involved dropping her ass in the soapy bathtub
    >it was really just a big cauldron you'd gotten from Zakura when she replaced her own. The Swamp Witch was pretty chill really, and you lit a fire under it an hour ago to heat it up
    >you dropped her straight into it, diving in after her, clothed and all, so she wouldn't drown
    >"Shhhh, shhhh.....this is ok.........we're just taking a bath." you said while she flailed and attempted to escape like......you couldn't even think of an adequate similarity. It was like a tiny dog trying to claw its way out of a bathtub, yet this one had powers, and her horn glowed with it
    >a nimbus of energy surrounded it and she slapped you with everything within reach, the woman far more capable with her magic than she ever let on.
    >"NO, GODDAMN IT, WE'RE HAVING A BATH NOW STOP IT," even as her violin's bow slapped you in the face, hand mirrors battered your head, and just about every comb in the place was prodding you

    >you dunked her, soaking her her, her mane, all of her
    >she shoved you under the water, enwrapping you in a nimbus of power and holding you there while she pouted
    >you didn't even get to grab a breath beforehand, and it was in less than a minute you began to claw at her thighs and belly, not wanting to drown during a unicorn's temper tantrum
    >she let you up......slowly
    >her hair was damp and parted, revealing much of her face to you now
    >she looked sad, and not in the cute way, the painful memory haunted way
    >her eyes were deep and green as swamp pits, as crushing to your soul as quicksand
    >"You stunk, ok? So we're taking a goddamn bath together. Hit me if you want, but I wanted to do this -with- you, not -to- you." you could furrow your brow and scowl with the best of them, matching her hateful gaze for hateful gaze


    >she halfheartedly struck you with another object, this time ou didn't even care what, as she lowered her head and looked defeated
    >"You need to take better care of yourself. You're worth it." you slung forward and took her in your arms, hugging her. Hard.
    >while the water roasted beneath you, grime came spilling off of your ponypal
    >"Oh shit it's the soap monster, here he comes~" you lunged at her with a bar of pearly white horse soap. you had no idea what it would do to your skin, but it was apparently good enough for horses to be endorsed by Rarity herself, and so you vigorously scrubbed her
    >she whimpered and moaned while you kept her pinned against the side of the cauldron, tearing into her pelt with the sudsy bar that quickly filled the big alchemical pot with soap
    >you dug it into her hide, you clawed it into her scalp and mane, she fought you at almost every turn of the process, but no matter how hard she hit you with hooves and horn fueled objects, the azure pony relented somewhat, deep down knowing this was good for her, or at least, knowing that you thought it was good for her

    >like a wet cat, she eventually just....gave up
    >you scrubbed her, combed her, used a brush upon that sensitive join of horn and flesh until you scrubbied all the spirals til it was fucking gleaming
    >the bath water was nearly toxic by the time you finished with her a few hours later, but thankfully the plumbing in the house allowed for a drain in the middle of the floor
    >you weren't done with her yet, and while she huddled and shivered in the emptying cauldron you plucked her out of it, making ou feel like a big strong man
    >towel monsters attacked her now, one in each hand of yours, and she whimpered under the assault again, squirming like a worm in the sun, writhing like a beast
    >under her armpits, over her belly, attacking ears and mane, you practically had to pin yourself atop of her to keep her still enough to scrub and dry her off....as much as she'd allow anyway. there was only so much you could do to dry her

    >once given half a chance she sprung into action, ripping away from you and bolting into your shared room
    >she was damp and clean and shoved herself against the door so you couldn't get in
    >you could hear her moving furniture against the door, so you couldn't burst your way through it either
    >"Goddamn it Shy, we need to talk about this." you yelled.......immediately regretting your word choice as she SLAMMED another thing in front of it
    >"This isn't over. You ain't the only clever one around here."
    >But she was. She made breakfast for god's sake.


   >you ended up throwing a loose brick through the bedroom window
    >you had no clothes, you had no dignity, and you were pretty sure the neighbors were watching
    >didn't matter, you had to gain ingress into your fucking home
    >"IF I CUT MY DICK OFF IT'S YOUR FAULT, REMEMBER THAT." you shouted so everyone could hear while you climbed through the window after breaking all the glass surrounding he entry point
    >in all her fervor to barricade the door, she forgot the bedroom windows, which had a usual blackout curtain motif around them, making them easy to forget
    >you flopped naked and only partially cut up into the room, landing on your back, huffing from the effort
    >a sea-green nimbus of energy encircled you
    >"no....no........NONONONOWNOWNOWNOWNOWNONONONONONONONO!" she began directing you back out the way you came until you clamped your hands and feet on the windowsill, your bare ass out for all the world to see
    >"GODDAMN IT STOP. IN THE NAME OF FUCKING CELESTIA STOP!" you screamed at her while she threatened to break your limbs in order to get you out of the room
    >invoking the name of Celestia was a thing here. And she paused long enough that her cloud of unicorn energy dissipated, though the sour expression on her face didn't


    >you dropped to the floor, hard, while she looked down on you with contempt, though for once you could see her eyes through the haze of unkempt hair
    >it was all the opening you needed
    >she was springy, but all the labor you did for her made you quite springy too, your muscles coiled hard enough to launch you thorugh the space between you
    >from wence the brush came, nobody knew, but it was there in your hand as you held her down, the unicorn fighting you all the while
    >she whimpered and beat you with everything in the room that wasn't nailed down, but brushy brushy time wouldn't be stopped
    >first her mane, parting it around her horn and then down her back
    >then her pelt
    >down her neck and across her body, down her squishy middle, over her legs
    >she was crying and you didn't even know why, but you'd set out on this path and you didn't intend to stop
    >the last thing you were slapped with was a picture
    >a picture of her, and her mother
    >a picture of her, and her mother, brushing her mane while presumably her dad took it
    >she looked so happy, just a little filly and her mother who looked just like her brushing her hair
    >It was a simple act
    >but it made her cry silently while you forced it upon her
    >you'd come this far, you couldn't quit now
    >you brushed her, from nose to flank while she sobbed, giving up writhing and fighting, giving up anything but crying
    >once you were done you rose off of her, and put the brush, and the picture, on the nightstand beside her bed.
    >"she'd want you to be clean. Don't be a dirty pony just because she's gone." you left her in the room then, exiting back out the window you'd come in from
    >something told you to leave her alone tonight, but sadly you didn't bring anything to get drunk on
    >It was going to be a long, lonely night

    >thankfully, someone who -wasn't- a coward, accompanied by someone else who wasn't a coward seemed to have sought you out
    >as far as you could remember, it was the start of the workweek for you......and you'd slept straight on through most of it thanks to the fairly potent ciderhol you brewed up with AJ's regular old boring cider
    >And, thinking of the devil, she herself and Starlight Glimmer appeared in the afternoon sunlight, your vision still hazy
    >Applejack was more disgusted looking than upset, while Glimmer looked concerned
    >you'd always gotten along with Glim during the few times you'd had the opportunity to be around her; for a student of Twilight, she was fun. Applejack, who you saw five days a week without fail, merely tolerated you because it was obvious you worked hard, even if you couldn't do as much as her and brother Bigmac
    >"Anon! Whut in tarnation are ya doin' SLEEPIN' at twelve ah'clock in the afternoon? we missed ya all apple pickin' mornin!" she began, a mix of anger, disgust, and bewilderment in her voice, as if who could possibly sleep beyond sunrise
    >Shy could, you reflected, the thought coming unbidden. Sleep right through til night-time in fact.
    >You pushed yourself up into seated position, the stink of week old body odor and alcohol surrounding you like a tangible fog, both ponies taking a step back, their sensitive noses assaulted and bombarded by your reek

    >"An' what're ya doin' drinkin' this early? ain't even sunset yet! If'n you wasn't my friend i'd tan yer hide til it was redder'n strawberry pie fillin," he face scrunched up in anger
    >"Finished what I had last night, just hungover and obviously stink," you grumbled, voice scratchy and sore
    >"Well, besides Anon's hygiene, I think the more important question is, why is he sleeping outside?" Glimmer segued smoothly, interrupting the possible fight where you'd finally tell AJ to go fuck herself, "I thought you said he -lived- here?"
    >"Obviously just passed out wherever he pleased, didn't care if he froze hisself to death," AJ was quick to pounce, but Glimmer, looking around, saw that your little 'campsite' had a few things that had obviously been here awhile. small wash basin, a few mugs, campfire recently put out. it simply didn't add up
    >"Look around Applejack, he's been out here awhile," she turned to you, more curious than upset, ".......anon, what's wrong with your house? If it's rats or insects or something, I'm sure Fluttershy could help you get rid of them,"
    >You shook your head, "It's not important now, don't worry about it. I was a bad roommate, let's leave it at that." and immediately wished you hadn't phrased it like that.

    >both ponies looked at you quizzically, and looked as if they wanted to ask you about it, but the state of being hungover, smelling like twice baked ass, made it pretty clear they also didn't want to be around you longer than necessary
    >"Well, clean yerself up and git back to th' orchard tomorrow," Applejack stated matter of factly, not even putting it in the form of a question, just another demand, and turned to begin walking off
    >Glimmer hung around a bit longer, "It's going to get cold soon Anon, you could stay at the castle with me for awhile, until you find somewhere more permanent, if you need to." she smiled sweetly, nodded, and followed after Applejack
    >No, you thought, you didn't want to live anywhere but back in this house with Shy. Glimmer was a cool pony, but nothing would ever compare to the warmth you'd felt sharing that house with your silent.....companion, lover, roommate? You still didn't even know what she was, but what you did know was that you missed her
    >you wondered what she was up to, if she was ok or even still alive in there, though you were close enough to the home and its windows that you figured you could smell the rot if she was dead, at least you hoped, or rather, didn't hope.

    >Shy Symphony awoke to the noise outside. ponies talking. fairly certain it wasn't about her since nobody knew she was even in there, she figured it was something to do with Anon
    >Anon had been living behind her house for....how long now? she didn't know, she never kept track of days, barely keeping track of the morning or night
    >someone kept sending food to her house, letters as well, but the pile of letters remained unopened, though the food- her favorite things, were eaten at least, though sometimes she'd go days without nourishment, staying in bed and dreaming of happier times
    >for her, there were only two happier times; when her parents were alive, spending time at the park with them, being lifted and swooping around the open air like she was a super hero by her father despite her mother's worry, going for ice cream, all the little things you did with your parents that you took for granted when you were a filly
    >her facial fuzz was crusty with dried tears, and the memory of her parents only brought forth more
    >the other happy times were with anon, even if they were confined to the house. he wasn't of course, but she hadn't left the house in years, did anyone even know she was here still, or just another pony who'd left the village to follow their talent and passion? of course, the delivery man and mail pony knew someone was here, but probably had no idea who it was
    >she remembered the pancakes she made for anon and vice versa, she could smell them even now. how he embraced her, feeling so warm and safe and comfortable even if they did nothing but lounge in bed, sharing affection
    >and not for the first time she stared at her violin, gathering dust upon the desk in their- oh, right, -her- bedroom now, untouched since she'd thrown anon out
    >he hadn't even attempted to come back. part of her was relieved at this, but the primary emotion she felt at this was simply more sadness, nearly as much as when her parents died

    >a gaping hole inside her heart had opened in the shape of a human, and it sat right next to the one her parents occupied
    >at least in that small way, they would get a chance to meet
    >she didn't feel particularly hungry, but she forced herself out of bed and headed to the kitchen
    >she knew who was sending the food baskets, taking care of her even when he wasn't around, just like he'd promised he would
    >fresh tears rolled from her eyes and she had to force herself to keep from crying
    >stupid human, stupid Anon, stupid stupid stupid!
    >if one could call a late afternoon meal breakfast, that's what she had. apples, an orange, some crunchy little potato chips he'd shown her how to make herself even though Filthy Rich's store had a similar thing, though anon's recipe was better, feeling more homemade- something her mother would have made
    >she felt tired again as soon as she ate, and realized the house was dusty, but couldn't bring herself to bother cleaning it, even though she was a unicorn and required almost zero effort, she felt worn, drained of power, and headed back to her room, slipped beneath the covers, and cried, unbidden, until she slept again, hoping she wouldn't wake up

    >she hadn't left the house, for it was no longer a home, since her parents had died, though she had often thought about it now, to burst through the door and run searching through the streets for her Anon, the only person to make her feel as if this empty shell of a house were once again a home
    >she'd even got so far one day as to open the door, but as soon as hoof touched the thresh-hold, she'd used horn's power to slam it so hard the entire house reverberated, and the small unicorn had slunk back to her room in misery, her tears leaving a trail of defeat from door to bed
    >there was no music here anymore, only the deathly silence of an abandoned house, only the lone, silent sobs of a lonely pony who missed her human and the light, whether he'd known it or not, that he'd brought to her home and life, making her feel alive instead of just another ghost in her own house
    >she knew this was no way to live, but she was too cowardly for the obvious solution, too timid of the absolute darkness on the other side, too scared of leaving Anon alone in this alien world, two times as cowardly to admit he'd probably moved on and was miles away from her. how was he, she wondered, a thousand times a day, despite the fact that he sent regular baskets of food, no longer so childish that she refused to eat the gifts he provided, keeping his promise to watch over her, even if he wasn't around.

    >your days were growing colder and the seasons rapidly changing
    >brisk autumn turning to snowfall
    >you weren't any longer just out in the open as the mild equestria summers allowed, but were now in a lean-to against the house, the logs bound with sturdy rope, keeping out the worst of the wind and rain
    >thick blanket kept out the rest, and you'd made a decent nest for yourself, digging down about half a foot in the approximate shape of a rectangle; almost a grave, you thought sometimes, so you could lay down and get out of the harshest of the weather
    >the work at apple acres had dried up with the harvest season over, the apple family hunkering in for winter, but thankfully you made enough delivering and cutting firewood to make ends meet for yourself and still provide Shy with the bare necessities
    >you often imagined her, alone in that house as she'd been before you entered her life, of how it was no way for a social animal like a tiny horse to live, but you were simply too cowardly to knock on her door and face her
    >you tried to convince yourself it was better this way, being close, but out of her life, that you didn't miss her with every aching breath and that all would be fine.
    >you never were a good liar
    >each day from autumn till now had gotten slightly colder, more brisk, til you could see your breath in the air in front of you just before the first six or so inches of snow fell and coated the ground in eye-burning powdery crystal
    >sometimes you watched the ponies play in the snow and managed a smile, when you ate your lunch in the park
    >families together, knowing where you belonged but not having the strength of will or courage to make what you wanted a reality
    >would she even want it? probably not

    >it was a day off, and Applejack made an appearance, something she'd been doing with increasing annoyance for you, and increasing frequency for her
    >the bullheaded orange pony was once again saying you could sleep in the barn when winter fully hit, but after that you stopped listening, as you often did when she took on that lecturing, 'i know better than you' tone
    >you simply stared at her blankly, not even having it in you to be upset at her anymore
    >she was alone this time, no Glimmer in tow, no fluttershy, nobody else to try and convince you taking shelter under an actual roof would be better than....whatever it was you were doing now
    >how many times had you told her this was fine and not to worry about it? how many times had you told her this was none of her business and that so long as you showed up for work on time, and sober, that what you did was none of her concern? she was stubborn, had to hand that to her at least, and since her thing seemed to be honesty, so was yours, and you told her as much to her face, again and again
    >"Miss Applejack, if I didn't know better I'd think you were sweet on me, comin' round with such regularity as you do to check on lil ol' me's welfare." there was more than a tinge of sarcasm in your voice, a tinge of bitterness too, and it caused the orange hat-wearing western caricature to scowl before rolling her eyes and trotting off, though before she rounded the corner of your former home, she remarked, "Offer stands, you know the way in," and a curt nod was all she got for a reply
    >damn nosy ponies, damn Shy, damn this world and most of all, damn your stupid goddamn self

>you knew Shy's hearing was quite good, even for a pony, but it'd not crossed your mind in a long while
    >anytime one of the nosy-six....eight if you included Glimmer and Trixie on occasion, she could hear the mumblings of your voice through the wall near to her bedroom, where you'd struck up camp
    >even when apart you wanted to be close, and only perhaps a foot or less of wall and insulation were separation you, but to your mind, she may as well have been on the moon
    >sometimes you caught yourself with palm pressed to that very wall, where you knew the bed you'd once shared would be, hoping she was alright or rather, as alright as she could get. you hadn't heard music from the house in months, not since your banishment
    >god, when did it get so cold? you shivered, blanket wrapped around you like a coccoon, hunkered down in your little grave-like pit in the ground so the winter wind blew overtop of you, mostly
    >the skies were dull grey steel, and a fresh snowfall had begun to pile atop what was already there. at least now when it ended you could push together some windbreaks and make-shift walls for your shelter with it, so hopefully you wouldn't start to lose toes or fingers to the wind and chill. you hoped ponyville winters were at least partway as mild as ponyville summers

>the snowfall was pretty brutal, almost two feet now, and not even halfway through the season.
>ponies kept the main and side streets clear with brute force and unicorn magic, pegasii doing their best to keep the storm clouds clear and the worst of it away from the town
>you'd managed to form snow man windbreaks, but still it was icy and awful, and you took a few extra logs and tinder home from burnt oak's busiest time of the year to make yourself a small firepit to keep the worst of the chill off and save your toes and digits
>this was awful and you knew it, but you refused to take AJ's pity, to take ANY pity, to tough it out like the big strong man you pretended to be
>thankfully it was warm by the fire and coals at night, so your tears flowed instead of freezing against your face

>Shy tried to plug her ears to your suffering, and at least once every two weeks she got to her doorframe, wide open, and shaky legged, stood at the border of outside and home
>she always scrambled backward, retreating on her haunches til she hit the far wall, viewing the outdoors with blurred vision, sickness in her stomach, those icy fingers of ghosts crushing her heart
>she wanted to go outside, to tell anon it was ok, to tell him everything was fine and well and bring him back home where he belonged
>the small pony had realized long ago that her life was incomplete without him, that anything she did or accomplished or sought to do in the future was worthless without someone to share it with
>she'd stare at the copy of the Friendship Journal she'd kept for years, a product of the princess and her friends, and found truth time and again of the fact that no matter what you did, if you did it alone, nothing could be emptier
>her life had been empty without her strange companion
>she listened against the wall, cheek and ear pressed against the area she knew anon was settled; the logs and noise of voices giving him away long ago, feeling closer to him but still not having the courage to leave the house of gloom and memory