Good 'un. Bad 'un.

by Lucefudu

Rating: teen
Tags: Granny Smith, Sad, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Big Macintosh, Random, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 1593

Experimental fic.

Is there something wrong?

[Cover image by PivotNaza]

Published 2012-03-15 08:54:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-03-15 08:54:02 UTC

Story

After a day of watching over her granddaughter and her two over-enthusiastic friends play all day long, Granny Smith felt more tired than ever. The three fillies passed most of the morning hours planning on what to do around the farm that could help them discover their special talents. When noon came, the three exhausted all their ideas and allowed themselves to just play around like they should be doing.

Fortunately for them, the trio managed to keep themselves away from serious trouble; just a few paint cans turned and a few trees worth of apples going to waste. Granny Smith’s observed the three fillies with some sort of envy. Time had been cruel to her in these passing years and looking at her granddaughter and her two friends playing without a care made it all more evident to her. Watching the three fillies playing a game of water balloon war brought good memories to Granny Smith. But the emotion was short-lived when the metallic sound of the triangle being struck by Applejack brought her back to reality.

“Dinner’s on, ev’rypony!” Applejack yelled, much to everypony’s joy. It was then that Granny Smith acknowledged just how hungry she was. When she looked back to the trio of fillies, they were already dashing towards the front door, leaving Granny Smith to stagger towards the door by herself.

The aroma of freshly-cooked daisy and dandelion-flower soup filled her nostrils, making her stomach emit an audible groan. Granny Smith slowly walked to the dining table, only to find that Big Macintosh was nowhere to be seen. She frowned a bit when she saw Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo hungrily tackling bowl after bowl of soup.

“Hold yer horses, lil’ fillies!” Granny Smith said to both fillies, making them stop and turn to look at her. “Din’t yer mothers ever told you to wait for everypony before eatin’?” Both fillies looked apologetically at Granny Smith, before muttering an apology in unison. Granny Smith lost her stern look and chuckled a bit.

They all sat there and waited for Big Macintosh’s arrival, which took longer than both fillies wished. The ambient was soon filled with small-talk about the day and some eager remarks from Applebloom and her friends about their future crusading plans. When dinner was over, Granny Smith tried to stiff a yawn and ventured upstairs, leaving the Cutie Mark Crusaders in the hooves of Applejack, who waited patiently for Rarity and Scootaloo’s parents to come and pick up the fillies.

The autumn breeze made Granny Smith shiver a bit, prompting her to walk towards the window in order to close it. While doing so, she shoot a glance at the beautiful landscape before her. The trees ruffled in the chilly wind as if they were alive, scattering their leaves all across the grass beneath them. The moonlight shining through the thin layer of clouds only helped in making the scenery more graceful. A spine-tingling shiver made her break her gaze and rush to her bed.

Getting beneath the covers, Granny Smith’s mind drifted towards her grandchild, Applebloom, thinking about how the little filly reminded her so much about herself at a younger age. With her lips twisting into a soft smile, she closed her eyes and allowed the comfortable darkness on her room envelop her completely, bringing forth a much needed rest.

* * *

“Up on the distance, next to the Everfree Forest... do you see it?” Asked princess Celestia as she gestured with her hoof towards a meadow in the middle of a wide forest. Granny Smith saw a small stream cutting the large forest in half and wondered that, without a doubt, the stream would prove itself to be a big river from up close.

“Yes, your majesty.” Replied Nut Smith.

“That land possesses the most fertile soil in all of Equestria. In there, your family could finally settle for good.” She kindly said.

Nut Smith was quick to take the princess’ hooves on his own and kiss them gently. “Thank you your highness.” Granny Smith looked to her right and saw her mother, angrily glaring towards both ponies but couldn’t understand why.

The Smith family turned around and left the castle’s balcony and Granny Smith found herself sat on her old house’s dining table alongside with her two older brothers. She felt her heart aching and an ominous feeling clouding her thoughts.

“Quit festerin’ ‘bout it! T’was just a formality!” Nut Smith yelled angrily, hitting the wooden table hard with his forehoof.

“Ah’ saw tha’ way yer looking at ‘er! Ye’ filthy pig.” Sewn Smith yelled back, fighting the tears that were constantly forming on her eyes. “Yer all hears an’ hoofs fer ‘er!”

“AN’ YOU!” He got up from and started gesticulating, his yells booming through the house. “Ah’ saw tha’ way yer looked at tha’ Stinkin’ Rich fella’! WHA’ WERE YE TWO TALKIN’ ‘BOUT THERE IN CANTERLOT?!”

“T’IS NONE OF YER BUSINESS!”

“AH’ PLAN HE’D MAKE ONE HECK O’ HUSBAND FER YOU! TWO SNAKES IN LOVE!”

“SHUT UP! DON’ TALK ‘BOUT ‘IM!” Granny Smith saw her father’s gaze and instantly shivered. Fights and arguments were common in her family, but she never saw her parents doing to in such aggressive way. Nut Smith galloped towards Sewn Smith.

“SO IT IS TRUE! YOU LYIN’ WHORE!” Granny Smith saw her father’s hoof connecting with her mother’s jaw in slow motion. Moments later, she was covering herself with her hooves as best as she could, but Nut Smith kept on assaulting her. “THA’S WHA’ YOU GET! MULE DAUGHTER!” Granny Smith covered her eyes with her hooves and began to sob quietly.

“Pie Smith?” Came a masculine voice from the shadows. Granny Smith groggily opened her eyes. The calmness she felt moments ago replaced again by an unnatural sense of dread. In the dim light from the corridor stood Nut Smith, staring at the little filly that tried unsuccessfully to hide herself below her covers. The stallion slowly walked towards her; each step he took made the smell of hard cider and sweat more and more unbearable. The stallion sat onto her bed and pulled the covers, revealing a frightened Granny Smith.

“Pie Smith, ya’ don’ have ta be ‘fraid o’ me...” The stallion said, wearily looking into her eyes. Despite his words, that very familiar sense of dread and oppression made its way inside her mind. The stallion stroke her forelocks gently and sighed. “Ah’ know your mother an’ Ah’ are not on good terms right now... but Ah’ jus’ wanted ta tell ya tha’ no matter wha’ happens, Ah’ll always love you.” He said with all the comfort a loving father could.

The stallion waited a reply, but she kept silent, eyes locked with her father’s. He inched closer and closer to her. She felt his weight pressing up to her body. “Ah’ really, really love you, Pie Smith.” He said before his lips closed in on hers. She felt his forehooves pressing on her body; feeling the warmth in his hooves. She stood paralyzed, not knowing what to do when he removed the covers from above her and shifted his position to stay on top of her.

“Shhh... It’ll be fine.” He whispered once more, before pulling himself lower to kiss his daughter’s lips once again. All she could do was yelp a little when she felt a sharp pain that accompanied his thrusting movement.

* * *

Granny Smith woke up gasping for air. Each time she inhaled, a jagged pain in her lungs made her heartbeats slightly less frantic. The once comfortable darkness in her room had become ominous and unsetting. Granny Smith’s mind drifted towards Applejack’s father as she clutched her belly with both forehooves and began to sob silently.

Author's Notes

Inspired by:

The Residents - Lizard Lady

What's a woman going to do but throw away her bread?
Her feet are feeling funny as she lies beneath the bed.
She reminisces of the pungent Adriatic Sea,
And then she crawls and counts her cans and twitches like a flea.

What she really likes to do is sit upon a pew,
And make believe that time has stopped and motionless is new;
Planes are stranded in the sky and drains are stopping too,
And she alone is laughing under eyelids full of flu.

She scurries hurries worries that the wicked will receive
Their candy from a handsome man and coffee from a thief;
She gazes at a hourglass and asks it if it cares,
And then she wonders if the lizard likes his lettuce rare.

"Lizard? Yes, a lizard; a little lizard of the sea... conspicuously alcoholic, flicks his tongue at me! Release me, lizard! Licking lizard, blizzard of the bea... Mashed inside a sock you still dare me... to die? Dare me to die?!... At home?! Coating all my lungs with honey, sticky coating cunning runny, feet of lizard fly! And stop and fly and stop and fly, the flicker tongue is licking out to find me, feel me. Hide! Hide from the tongue! The tongue is coming! Cruising! Oozing! Over land and under ashes, in the sunlight, see, it flashes, find a fly and eat his eye. But don't believe in me... Don't believe in me... Don't believe in me... Don't believe in me..."

A very nonsensical (somewhat), experimental fanfic I wrote when... I don't know what happened..

If this story feels strange to you, don’t fret. That’s how dreams work.
Yes, you are all allowed to hate me right now. :trollestia: