I Am Fluttershy
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Violence.
Mental instability.
Disturbing Imagry.
Swearing.
Sexual Content.
A lot of emotional distress and angst.
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Chapter one, Pieces of Me
-A small note, this story is much more emotional than any other fanfic that I've written, mainly because it draws upon a lot of real world issues that more people feel than you realize. We all try to trudge through the days of our lives fighting the existential crises and soldiering on. But what if you're mind was so frail, so weak that that it let in more stuff than it could shove out? What if we weren't able to just 'deal with it' and the slightest issues in your life became fanatical seriel killers out for your sanity? What if... your mind was pushed too far? And what if... you were more open minded to things because of it? What if your mind couldn't take it? What if you broke? What if you shattered? What if... you were split into a million little pieces? All ripping at each other's throats for the chance to breath the surface air in your consciousness? Could you soldier on then?- excerpt from the secret book of Bemnal the Fallen
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SONO CRYSTAL AX31 BOOTED BEGIN RECORDING
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I am Fluttershy. I am unique. I am me. And by the Sisters, I will be seen.
That stupid little mantra that I say to myself every night. It sounds so meaningful, so philosophical; but it's just disturbing to my ears. sharing myself say it sends shivers through my rib cage, the most uncomfortable and disconcerting kind; the kind that says: I don't like this, stop it, stop making me go through this.
Words are so hollow, they mean nothing until the recipient of said words chooses to give them meaning. Kind of ironic when you think about it; so many words in life are given such profound meaning. the first words you ever say for instance; things like 'mamma' but that's a lie. the first words that you ever say as a foal are completely meaningless; things like 'no' 'that' 'cookie' 'poddy' 'blue' 'dog' just random words that your brain decides upon as a template to begin building language comprehension off of.
Words... they hold so little meaning by themselves; hence forth, they are meaningless in their entirety when spoken to one's self in the dead of night in front of a mirror. I feel stupid for even making the mental devotion to such a repetition of words.
then why the shell do I keep repeating them?! Time and pressure... those are three words that hold meaning for me. Time and pressure... oh yes... time... and pressure... I heard those three words in a movie; can't remember the name after so many years but that phrase... I remember it well.
Time and pressure wares down all things. What do those words mean? Well, they could mean any plethora of things depending on who's asking, and who's listening. To me, they are the irrefutable truth that with continued and just plain stubborn devotion to one's task, a pony can overcome and achieve anything they set their mind to. Especially if that involves overcoming something whether it be a physical object that you're trying to break down, or a mental block that you must overcome due to personal vendetta against your own center of will.
Fuck... just listen to me rant... if my friends heard me say any of this, they wouldn't understand the words, they wouldn't even hear them; they'd here their friend possessed by some philosophical monster making her act all different and wierd, even to the point of becoming hostile. I'm not stupid, well I am, but I'm also smart if that makes any sense. But anyway, I understand the prejudice that ponies hold; Equestria pretends to be so peaceful and loving and kind and accepting and all that hooey and while yes to some extent that's true, it's also a facade.
Equestria has it's own problems. It has it's own preconceptions. Zecora is a prime example, everypony including myself placated our own prejudice views and shunned her with fear and hatred, and more than a little bit of hostility; and we didn't even know her! We all just thought, 'she's not normal, she does weird things so she's something to be wary of'
By that logic, me acting like I am now, explaining things in such clarity and emotion would be highly out of the norm for me by my friend's and all of Ponyville's views of me. when I tried to be more assertive they all turned on me; whether I took it too far or not is irrelevant, they could have just scowled and decided, "I don't like you so I'm not going to talk to you." but instead they were like "I don't like who you've become so I'm going to guilt trip you into changing back into what I want you to be." Oh the fierce religious justice of those words! Because I didn't change at all you know, nothing changed, I just let out a different part of me that was always there.
Whenever a shop-keep tries to swindle me I want to stab him in the fucking throat with a carrot (butcher knives are cliché) when some pony cuts in front of me in line I want to break their legs to teach them a lesson. And when somepony has a problem with the way I'm acting I wanna tell them to go fuck a syphilis infested rat and keep their Luna damned opinions to themselves.
I am me, I am Fluttershy, and if you have a problem with that, then go fuck yourself 'cause I don't give a shit.
But of course I'd never say that; that's just one small piece of me after all. there's other pieces of the whole as well. the assertiveness episode I went through just brought that small piece to the surface.
But here's a largest piece of me, the one that normally shines bright and strong; the weak, pathetic, quiet, shy, scared, meek Fluttershy that doesn't want to make waves. That's the part of me that all of my friends see. the one they WANT to see.
I have an analogy with boxes but I'll get to that later, I just want to put it here so that I don't forget, my mind rambles with hundreds of thoughts and it's easy to get lost quite often.
That large piece just wants everything to be cool with everypony; she wants peace and love and happiness. And she'll go to any lengths to ensure that she's gets it. Regardless of the pains and frustration that the majority of me keeps. But she's also extremely empathetic and can see into other pony's problems. Feel their pain as her own, which only ads to her already full shit list.
I hate that part of me so much, but I can't live without it; why? Because of the next piece of me.
the one that thinks... that never stops thinking... about anything... ever... the me that's recording this all with a sono crystal voice recorder right now, the me that worries about everything, too many thoughts racing through her head. the smallest issues and problems that plague me throughout the day that any sane pony would be able to just brush off bug me... no, they more than just bug me, they fill me with panic attacks; there's times when I just can't stop freaking out over the stupidest problems, constantly running them through my mind over and over and over and OVER! But there's nothing I can do about them. At least not at that point in time, but I just can't stop thinking about them.
And the anxiety throws me into bouts of extreme near-heart attack panics and suicidal depressions. This piece of me is the scariest, the one that I can't control, the reason why the weak shy me exists. Because the meek unassuming little twat makes sure that nopony has a problem with me. And if nopony has a problem with me, then they won't be mean to me. And if they're not mean to me then I won't have any problems. And if I don't have any problems then I can sleep at night. Oh I lose SO much sleep; I hardly ever sleep, I'm a chronic insomniac due to this shit. the anxiety forces me into a state of hyper emotion and I grudgingly drag myself back, but then it flares up again and I drag it back down yet again.
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Sorry, I spaced out, like I said I have a lot of thoughts racing through my mind, even right now as I talk I'm thinking about issues that I can't deal with and probably aren't even there, it's like my mind is just making up things for me to freak out about and saying it like that demeans the situation but IT'S A FUCKING PROBLEM DAMNIT! *sniffle* I... I can't handle this... it's so much... so much worry... so much anxiety and gods damn pain...
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you know... sometimes I wonder if maybe I could just... let it all out... a sharp object across the wrist or neck... actually that'd fucking hurt, how about poison. Something slow and painless... and everything would just slip away... my mind would finally calm down... everything would be quiet.
Oh Luna I want that quiet... that peace... just a blank empty black nothingness... it's better than this at any rate...
Aw well, I'm too much of a pussy to go through with it; I'm too scared of what lies on the other side of the veil; I've done so many bad things in my life, I'm not exactly destined for pearly gates. Forgiveness? Maybe, I'd like to think so; I hope so... a lot... I pray every night you know. I pray, I don't care if anything is sharing me or not, I don't fucking care, I pray. Because I need to; I need to believe that's there's some gods damn point to all this *sobs* I-I need s-some reassurance... that there's something better waiting for me on the other side... somewhere where my fucked up mind can just shut the hell up and be quiet... a place where my smiles are genuine, some place where I can be happy. And because of that, I pray; oh I pray with SUCH a vengence!
But I sin too... frivolously... almost with recklass abandon. I can't let myself feel bad about it though, because then that scary piece of me will make me feel like shit and won't show me any mercy. I've devised names for all these pieces of me. the angry piece that want's to commit homocide is Flutterbitch. the Weak humble, gentle side is Necessasaryshy. the anxiety filled self harming bipolar side is Scaryshy. the next one is Carefreeshy; I like that one, or rather, I like it when I'm her. That side of me has no morals, no rules, and no reason not to leap before she looks. she's probably the tiniest piece of me out of them all.
she's the playful happy go lucky animal like the critters I take care of.
Oh another note, I want to elaborate on why I'm so good with animals, gotta write that down somewhere...
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OK we're good, now then, back to what I was saying, the critters I take care of are so much like Carefreeshy, she's so... I don't know, happy, I guess. she has no inhibitions; she makes impulsive decisions and thinks whatever she wants; but more so, she exists only within the confines of my cottage with nopony else looking; she's a pervert, a big one. she likes writing erotic stories and masturbating to the thoughts of lesbian mares and even her own friends; even of her sister who'd molested her at a very young age, long story I'll explain later, she makes me feel like it's OK to be an individual, she's narcissistic and I love her. And she loves me. she makes me feel important. she's also yet another reason why I would never go through with suicide, she loves me, she loves herself, she loves this body and would never willingly damage it too badly. And since she's a piece of me I guess that means I would never damage it either.
So that's all of them I guess... or the major ones anyway. Flutterbitch, Necessaryshy, Scaryshy, and Carefreeshy. And then there's the average me; Fluttershy. the whole. the one who's uncertain, filled with pain, cries a lot, screams a lot and has her mind constantly torn to shreds as those four Fluttershys rip each other the fuck apart for dominance. *sigh* oh well... like I said, I can't help any of this; if I could I would have changed it a loooong time ago believe you me.
Ah well, no use dwelling in the past.
Wasn't there an analogy I was going to make? Oh ya! Boxes. My friends all want to stuff me into a tiny little box; one where I'm only Necessaryshy; see, this box is much to small for all of Fluttershy to fit into; so instead they want just Necessaryshy because that's the one that they normally see, so they're convinced that that's me. That THAT'S Fluttershy. And they're forcibly keep me that way because they're afraid of chance, they're afraid to see me in my entirety, they're afraid to see a Fluttershy that's angry, a Fluttershy that's perverted, a Fluttershy that's depressed, a Fluttershy that's hyper, a Fluttershy that's in love... a prime example of this is Pinkie Pie. the whole 'party of one' fiasco as Twilight so crudely named it, shows a very apt description of the theory I'm putting forth.
when everypony started to ignore Pinkie Pie since we were all trying to set up a party for her, she thought that we didn't want to spend time with her any more and then she got all emo and what not. What happened? Did we try to talk to our concernced friend and help her work through her issues? Nnnnope! We forced her back into the Pinkie Pie we know and love because it was too difficult to see her as anything other than the over active bundle of joy that we think she is. I don't understand her and her problems but I do understand that there are many pieces to who she is as a complete pony.
Did that mean that I wanted to help her through some empathetic connection? Nnnnope! I'm just as selfish as any other pony and aided in forcing her back into that little box that we all have. there's one for everypony you know. Even you, whoever's listening to this in a hundred or so years after I'm long dead and somepony finds these sono crystal voice recorders among my personal belongings. You're living in a box. A box that everypony you know has crafted. It's not entirely their fault though, you give them the excuse, you offer up a side of you, a piece that you want everypony else to see, because the truth is; the whole complete pony is too much for anypony to handle or understand.
And so we show ourselves in pieces. Small fragments. But you have to deal with it because you do the exact same thing to them. Imagine if your strong stoic friend suddenly acted feminine and foalish; wouldn't you be disturbed? the correct answer is yes you liar.
Boxes... we're just living in boxes... wrapped up with a pretty fucking bow... why?
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Because we're weak.
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I mentioned that I was molested by my sister. I was around 8 years old at the time, I think she was 19; she would foalsit me all the time whenever mom and dad were gone. And apparently she had a thing for adorable little fillies. I think you can work out the rest on your own.
It wasn't exactly 'bad' in a sense... I guess I have to elaborate; It wasn't necessarily forced per se, more like she convinced me to try it. Just small stuff though. Never once did she ever stick a strap on penis in my vagina, tried once but I was too little and her 'thing' was too big so it wouldn't fit. I actually can't help but laugh whenever I think back to that night, it was probably a few months after we first started... you know... doing it... and she'd been showing me all of these porn videos and I admit they got me pretty fucking horny, I wanted to try some of the stuff in it, a lot of which was anal porn. Buuuut, as I said, my hole was too small and her pole was too big, wouldn't fit in either holes so we kinda just laughed the epic fail off; I mean, putting the moral outrage aside it is kinda funny when you think about it 'It won't fit! I can't get it in!' with like, some urgency to the voice hahaha. Not that she actually said that but I could just see it happening in my mind and I roll over laughing every time.
Aaaaanywya, the only thing we could do was oral. So every night that she would foalsit me we'd both be in my room and I'd lick her pussy until she reached orgasm multiple times, which was very hard given my small tongue, and she'd lick my pussy till it got too sensitive to touch. It's weird... I hear about all these other ponies who were molested as foals and all the books say it's a 'traumatic experience.' pff, it wasn't traumatic! Unusual yes but it wasn't like I didn't enjoy it or anything, in fact I started to look forward to it. I mean come on, who doesn't like getting eaten out? And I was too young to see anything wrong with it; I even got greedy after a while. there'd be nights where she didn't want to and I'd be an immature foal about it, which I was at the time, and oh gosh... *giggle* just imagine, little filly Fluttershy glaring at her sister saying, "I wanna have sex NOW!" as if I was demanding a cookie. I would throw temper tantrums if she refused and eventually she just gave in.
It's so strange... I don't remember a lot about those days... I remember the first day. the very first... When she'd first coaxed me into licking her rose. And there was another night. One where she wouldn't eat me out, and then I got a really evil idea, I was like, "well fine, if you don't lick me then I'll tell dad what we've been doing!"
Now had our positions been reversed, I would have shit myself. But as it was, my sister had a lot more control over herself and nonchalantly responded as such, "then you'll never see me again." And wouldn't you know it? That shut me right up. I quietly drudged back to my bed and snuggled into the covers grumbling to myself about stupid big sisters and not being fair.
And then there was the last day. The day when everything first began to fall apart. The day when mom found out... oh that was such an ugly day... and from that day on, my foalhood was shattered into a million little pieces... the pieces of my mind... the pieces that ponies see and don't see.
Understand this, I LOVED my sister with all my heart; and despite everything, I still do love her; she's my sister, I'll always love her. In fact, I even feel bad sometimes thinking about how it's my fault that she wound up in jail. I remember it clear as day, see there was this book that she showed me one time, I think it was like a diary or something with her friend's sexual adventures in it. Now I was sitting in the living room with my parents -oh I should probably mention that my sister and I have the same dad but different moms- and I don't know how the conversation got to this but eventually I was talking about how my sister had shown me some less that morally upright things. My mom inquired as to what; I replied "like North Park and Beaver and Headbut do Equestria" movies that she'd shown me. My mom rolled her eyes as if those were no issue.
But then I almost felt... guilty... guilty that I didn't tell her EVERYTHING that she'd shown me and told me about. So I told her about the book. Now she was interested. She gawked and rushed into the cloud basement to grab said diary and read through it. I guess there was some pretty bad things in their but she was mostly offended, not necessarily pissed off.
At this point my inner foal was cracking... the surface forming resins to try and keep itself whole. 'just stop talking' I wanted to tell myself but at 8 years old I couldn't really comprehend such complex thoughts; I was a foal, tiny, weak, insignificant, instinctual. And what better instinct is there than to pour out your heart to your mommy? None. The bond between a mother and foal is sacred. Holy. Unassailable. I don't care what the circumstances are, you can never stop loving the one who carried you for 9 months and birthed you into the world; there's just an instinctual drive within your mind forcing you to feel like you can always cuddle up to mommy and cry your troubles away.
And so I said those crucial words that changed everything, "well... that's not ALL she showed me..."
The next few moments were a blur. Everything came pouring out. The porn, the 'first time' the continued sexual acts between my sister and I. The picture she took of my face burried in her crotch -which the investigators that came later never found by the way and I'm still a little ticked off about that- Everything. It just flowed out like water.
The glass was so cracked now... so cracked...
My. Mom. Freaked. The. Fuck. Out. Words cannot describe how pissed of she was, no, pissed off doesn't even come close; never before had I seen such unbridled, unrestrained, unrivaled, unadulterated RAGE! If my sister had been in the house at the time, I think my mom would have killed her, and I don't mean that figuratively; she was ready to commit homicide if given the chance. I was fucking terrified; I sat crying in the corner like I did something wrong. And I did, sort of, in my own strange personal rules I did something wrong. I broke a promise to my sister. I promised to never tell anypony about our secret. It was something that we had. Just us alone. Nopony else. The fun times that she and I had together, pleasuring each other, playing together. Having fun. We did more than just sex, we also did stuff that normal sisters do; played games, went swimming, watched cartoons. And in that moment, even though I didn't know exactly what I did; I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that I'd done something horrible that could never be reversed.
The Glass... so fragile... more cracks then shards at this point... so... so weak... so helpless...
I cried, I cried like the weak little foal I was. The only consolation I had was that my mom wasn't mad at me personally so that was something at least. I think you can guess what happened next. After all, this had been going on for a coulple years. Every summer my sister would foalsit me because mom and dad were gone at work and I had no elementary school to go to.
I think this is where it all started. My... fragile mind... this situation isn't at all unique you know. 2 in three ponies are molested before they're twelve and usually by a close family member so it's not like I'm a special case worthy of pity. Infact, by a 2/3 majority, I'm normal. This is normal. This situation is normal, happens all the time surprisingly. That is so fucking sick. That's the kind of world we live in; where stuff like this is just... normal... ugh...
A-anyway, that was the last I ever saw of my sister in person. Days passed... cops asking me questions... the whole, 'where did she touch you?' while addressing a board with a picture of a pony on it *laugh* gosh that's so fucking cliché. At least I think anyway... well it's definitely silly from my perspective. A couple weeks later mom took me to a clinic where I sat in a bed for like 5 hours watching disynae movies on a flat screen TV while a bunch of doctor Pegasi checked me over and took notes on I can only guess what. It was a weird experience. But what's more, the entire time my mom was sitting nearby being just... quiet... I cannot tell you how uncomfortable it was to look at her with that expression on her face. It made me squirm.
It wasn't until years later when I finally asked her that I found out the visit was for the doctors to see of my sister had severely harmed me in any way through the 'sexual abuse' she called it rape but I know the definition of rape and what my sister and I did was most certainly NOT rape. Ugh, that' such and ugly word, 'rape' just the sound is nasty. I wasn't forced, I wasn't tied down, I wasn't beaten, I wasn't yelled at, in fact... it was... nice... my sis was gentle with me, she always, well... most of the time anyway, made sure that I got my own pleasure alongside hers; she never did anything that caused any pain. And it didn't really feel like she was trying to dominate me in any way. In fact, there was even one time where she let me put on a strap on and do her in the ass, which was awesome by the way, and we usually just made a game out of it; we'd pretend we were a married couple or a hero and a princess or something like that.
It was fun. Enjoyable. And admittedly, pretty hot. My sister wasn't exactly 'sexy' per se she did have a simple charm about her though, but I didn't care about what she looked like; I just liked the fun times we had together. The closeness of the 'physical activities' and the comfort of snuggling with her. Oh ya there's lot's of times when I would reminisce and quite honestly, miss the times I had with her. I would lay awake crying and wishing that I'd kept my big mouth shut so that she and I could still be together. Sometimes... back before the big reveal... I'd look in the mirror and pretend that she and I were grown up and married... and that she could somehow get me pregnant and I could carry our foal inside me... I honestly desired that future for a while...
Of course now a days I have the world weary wisdom to see how creepy all of that was and well... honestly if I saw my sister today I'd probably buck her in the face. I know it's not my fault that everything happened; she's the one who decided to trade tongue fucks with an 8 year old filly. But at the time... that's not how my mind worked...
The Glass... it's crying blood... it can't keep together for much longer...
Court cases began to come up, I wanted to see my sister... but nopony would let me... I missed her so much...
Then came the therapy... the most uncomfortable moments of my life... funny cause nowadays I don't have a problem talking about most of this to ponies I trust. All of my five closest friends know about this; it's just not that big a deal, it happened, nothing I can do about it. And like I said, it's fairly common for stuff like this to happen to ponies.
But at the time I didn't want to talk about it. Those were my private moments with my sister and nopony else's. Well, except mom's but those were special circumstances and would continue to affect me for years to come -I'll get to that later- so I didn't exactly feel like opening up. Although I did enjoy the plastic building pony/machine toys, I think they were called bio-canle? bi-optical? Something like that, anyway that was really the only reason I didn't start screaming at the therapist for asking questions that as far as I was concerned, were none of his business
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So basically I bottled it all up. And hid it away.
The glass... so... so...
My mom came to me a couple weeks later, a court case, a trial to decide my sister's fate. I knew enough by how everypony was acting that she was in a lot of trouble. They kept telling me it wasn't my fault and that I was the victim in all this. I'm not victim! Was what I wanted to scream, I'm just a pissed off little filly who's losing her sister because she couldn't keep her yap shut! So naive... so frail... maybe that's where my narcissism began, I wanted to hug myself. Nopony understood me, nopony knew what I was going through, how could they? That was my thought at the time.
They wanted my thoughts on my sister. I voiced them. As best I could, "even if she did something bad, she's still my sister and I love her no matter what!" I said with fire in my adorable filly eyes. To an adult fully aware of the situation those words must have broken their hearts, 'poor kid' they probably thought, showering me with pity. Not like I didn't earn it, pathetic little thing I was. But I would still hug me and tell me that it'll all be OK, because I'm fragile, I need love and comfort and reassurance just to carry on.
And that's why I never told my mom what I REALLY thought. "I'm not gonna see my sister again..." That was the logical emotion behind what I was feeling. But here's the dark horrifying truth. What I REALLy thought... "My sister's gone... I'm not gonna get fun sex times anymore..." and 8 year old... and that's all I could think about... 'oh no, who's going to eat my pussy now?!' I honest to Celestia thought those thoughts and with passion behind them. How fucked up is that?
And then it hit me, "... I'm... never going to see her again... ever..."
The glass... broke... no, it FUCKING EXPLODED!
I was never the same again. Innocence, fucking dead! Foalhood, fucking dead! Natural happiness, fucking dead! All the things that make up a normal healthy happy mentally stable pony, FUCKING. DEAD.
And that was that. I became a bad apple from that day on. By age 10 I was looking up anime porn on my dad's computer, I found cartoon and anime characters much more attractive than real life ponies, in fact, they looked almost ugly to me, I'm not quite sure why though...
Age 12 I had my first panic attack set on my an overload of worries and anxieties. I began spilling out everything to my mom, every little secret, every little issue I had; the guilt annihilated me. I didn't stand a chance.
Age 13 I met the most important mare in my life, Rainbow Dash. At this time we were only friends, but we quickly became the best of friends and got into a lot of trouble together. In fact, aside from my mom, to this day she's the only pony who sees all sides of me and accepts me as me, Fluttershy. She also had various sides to herself as well. And she was quite perverted herself; we actually had more in common than you'd realize. Of course we had our differences, she liked going fast and being loud. I liked taking it slow and being quiet. But for the most part we thought on the same wave length. We could finish each other's sentences and even made up our own secret language along with a bunch of special hoof shakes.
Age 14, I was still sleeping in my mom's bed next to her whenever I could beg my way in with puppy dog eyes. It would take another full year before I'd grow out of that habit. Oh and I still can't sleep with the lights off.
Age 15... well... that's where the next chapter in my life began... I'll tell you about that tomorrow.
Anyway, before I sign off I wanted to get back to that thing about the animals. I love them. A lot. Why? Because they aren't broken like ponies. they're simple and basic. Pure instinct. Innocent... they're everything that I used to be... and that's why I love them. I get a feeling of nostalgia whenever I'm around them. Staring into their black soulless eyes filled with empty yet omnipotent emotion calms me like you wouldn't believe. They're honest. The tell you exactly what they're thinking with but a stare. Just a simple look. And staring into those big adorable eyes fills me with such a blissful calm, void of any emotion or chaos... just... peace. From the moment I stared into the eyes of a dove at age 10, I knew that I'd HAVE to be around animals if I wanted to be calm as much as possible. Plus, taking care of them makes me feel important. Like I have a purpose. And in exchange they give me love and comfort. It's a perfect symbiotic relationship.
Anyway. I'm really tired so I'm going to sign off for tonight. Tomorrow I'll get to the juicy parts of the story when Rainbow Dash and I started to grow closer than friends. And in a homophobic school like the one we went to, that's a pretty major issue.
And I can tell you right here and now, the relationship was NOT smooth.
Alright, goodnight all or... whoever's listening to this. Fluttershy signing off.
SONO CRYSTAL AX31 SHUTTING DOWN SOUND IMPRINT SUCCESSFUL
CLLLLLKKKKFFZZZZZZZZTTT!
Author's Note:
***DISCLAIMER***
I do not own My Little Pony Friendship is Magic nor do I have any affiliations with it, it's producers, or it's benefactors This is a work of fiction made for entertainment purposes only.
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***DISCLAIMER***