Silvania

by ilpws422

Rating: mature
Tags: Sad, Romance, Original Character, Other, Sex, Tragedy, Gore, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 3027

the story about the troubles and the self discovery of a colt named silvia

Why search for a voice when you don't even have words.
"if you can speak, why won't you talk?" they ask.
"if you have something to say then speak up" they say
follow the path of silvia starlert as he searches for his voice through what he hopes are friends, and what he thinks are his enemys.
Follow him in his journey through coming of age, see the world through his eyes as he experiences the fate of those that society deems "insignificant"

This story represents the hardships, and the internal struggles of those with truly unique traits and beliefs in a society that is slow to accept change, and decides to resent what doesn't conform to its own profound standards and expectation.

Published 2015-02-11 01:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-10-11 15:30:33 UTC

Silver Hearts

Words do not speak, for they require a voice, a voice that one cannot simply seek on their own, for doing so will blur their vision. they need guidance, an assistance that none wants, but everyone needs. Yet in world where words are necessary to sustain yourself and your voice is hidden from you, you start to seek guidance from those around you, guidance for something as simple self discovery. In these times you turn in place, seeing everyone walking away, almost like you are a bad influence, at least you think That's why.

Silvia Starlert, a young colt at the age of 13, trots around stifle gaskin middle school, the hallways as lifeless as Manestreet in Manehatten on new years eve. The bells that are about to ring will signal the end of third period, sending the young ones into a frenzy over their lunch time, filling the halls and blocking doorways. The usual colts shoving and girls panicking, teachers shouting and ap's are sighing.

I detested it, it always gave me headaches, minor concussions and bruises, plus the occasional bleeding whenever i get shoved into a scraped up locker. My best friend hazel would always have a first aid kit with her, I always laughed whenever she came by to help me, saying that she's just concerned about me. It was silly at first, but it only ever occurred to me that she liked me after I bruised my left hock and made a joke saying, "passerby would think you're giving me a blowjob" I expected her to laugh as she usually did at the joke, she bit her lip and blushed at the thought instead, she then ran away, leaving me with a sore, bleeding thigh, that makes it appear like aI'm having my period.

In any case, back to the hall; it hurts, it stings but that's all it is, pain, it starts and stops and leaves you a wreck but, that's all it will ever be. Flannel always said that, it was his mode of coping with the bullies at school, it was his way of rationalizing the things he does to the bullies, it was his manner of saying goodbye when he left.

I figured that, if he could make it through middle and high school, then what is blocking me? apparently, there was alot. Until my time arrived to show them who I really am.

I was walking towards the cafeteria without a concern. my scarf tied up, boots polished, black mane with white highlights, mane combed back behind the ears and my glasses lined up, set in cyan blue accents. i felt fabulous, and I'm damn sure that i look the part. Everything was just so beautiful.

The walk to the lunchroom was quite peaceful as opposed to the constant quake known as the hallways. Not that I'm complaining, its just, i don't know? unusual?

Whatever. If life decided i get a break, then goddamn it, I'm getting a fucking break!

If only it were such a day everyday

My thought proccess was interupted by my classmate, Lance, and the class president, Honor Role, who stopped just in front of me, both panting after some kind of run.

The former, Lance, stopped first and spoke in his scruffy prepubescent voice "Come on! Before its over!" he appeared to be exhausted from the run but not quite out of energy.

The latter, Honor Role, (who looked like he just won the running of the leaves) spoke in a much more mature tone. "I know, I know, I'm just a bit tired, why did it have to be after gym though? didn't he say it was gonna be in the library and gonna be YESTERDAY!?"

Oh dear celestia its Honor. Okay silvia, you can do this just walk up and say hello. Wait! You can't just walk up and say hello to him, he'll think you're a creep. how about a smile and a wave. NO! Thats worse. Okay silvia deep breaths, deep breaths. just think of something other than those glorious shoulders and those strong hocks that could thrust harder than a train at max speed. Oh celestia now I'm stareing.

Lance responded, "He said that in front of Mr. Iso Top to divert their attention away from the cafateria." to that Honor nodded and turned his head to my direction, smiling as he did so.

He said, "Oh hey silver, wait. What are you looking at?" His voice snapped me out of my stupor, and back to reality.

The weight his words had an impact that hit me like a train, only to be lost as the durragatory meaning of that simile also hit me like a train, forceing me to fluster and force my tail between my legs to hide my embaresment, and the outcome of that, "descriptive" piece of imagery.

I backed away into the hallway, a nervous smile of guilt, and a heavy blush too.

To this they shrugged and went on their way.

In response to their sudden exodus, i ran straight to the locker room to relieve the situation that had just "aroused"...

Upon arrival i checked this way and that, looking all around for anyone who might catch me.

After all of that i got to my locker, and found my gym bag.

The contents consisted of the male equivalent to makeup such as hairspray, shampoo conditioner, and deoderent. As well as the usual Silvia starlert equivalent to makeup.
Though unbeknownst to anyone besides me, there is a secret hidden within the bottle of hairspray, and his name is steel. Whenever you hold the bottle upside down and twist the cap, the bottom opens up to reveal a medium silicon horsecock dildo. As an added bonus, when you press the top, instead of a quick burst of hairspray, a long stream of (strawberry flavored) lube comes out.

I picked up the bag and made my way to the showers and locked myself in one of the stalls. from there i pulled out the phallus and squirted on the lube as i got to work. 10 minutes later i came out with a sore ponut and an empty can of "hairspray".

..............

The walk back to the cafateria was, once again, unceremoniously peaceful.

As i madeit to my usual spot i heard shouting, not in fear but in exitement, i quickly dashed over to the croud of colts, i heard a large bang, no, TWO large bangs. along with a loud cheer from the surounding peers. being the lithe little colt i am, i crawled underneathe and found myself in the midst of an adolesent riot.

I made it through to the other side. And discovered a gruesome sight, the face of my best friend hazel, her jaw was dislocated to the left, with bruises lining her nose, and blood running down her eyelids. Her cheeks were swollen, red and puffed out, making the impression of having an allergic reaction. a

Adding a quick glance to her attacker gives me the view of a powerful but ravenous being known solely as a bully. He moved up his right hoof to his temple. wiping sweat from his coat and onto the wailing filly. Her crying made him laugh, it was a great feeling for him to sweep over a filly like he was a god, tired of his subjects, so he smashed them with ease.

it killed me however, to see somepony's life, to see my best, NO my ONLY friend, torn apart. She lost her innocence, she lost her dignity, she lost her right to live a normal life, yet somehow, it felt like it was starting to get worse.

She wrenched her head in my direction, and reached a hoof out, begging me to help. i wanted to, oh god i wanted to. But I couldn't, I would become torn up. I would cry, I would be a living punching bag, a punching bag that poses itself at the sight of another's who... f

I gasped, the Earth around me went silent as I looked at the ground. I sighed, I wept, I felt terrible. No....

bang. The sound of another shock

I am awful.

Bang! There it was once more

i am a coward.

BANG! once more, harder this time.

Yet I am the bully

silence
.
..
...

i saw a faint image, a death note that reads, "you killed me...."

I immediately saw red,
blood red,

In the niches of my vision.

It intensified, pulsating to the cadence of my hastening heart, it's burnt. It felt like my eyes were matches that just decided to strike themselves over flint just to experience what it's like to burn, and the veiny lines that they call their origin, stung like the fangs of a cobra, leaking their poison through the wounds just to feel powerful.

I detested the feeling, but this feeling loved me.

I felt rage, I felt like the I lost the last piece of my puzzle under my bed, and the piece doesn't even fit, like my memory suddenly packed its bags and departed without a word, and it's only note read, "fuck you".

FUCK IT!

If I'm gonna go, fine! at least I'm not dieing a coward.

All things reality escaped me, I felt nothing but the musical rhythm of my heart, and the blood in my veins. The fury, the sadness, the confusion, all bundled into one. I want to kill him

I sprang up and turned around.
a fiery twitch in my legs forced my forward thighs to lock up, and my flank to tighten. I coiled up my rear legs like a spring and launched my back legs out like a steel ball, fired from a cannon.

Author's Note

i did some editing

advice given by my idol; regidar

Well, you're gonna need to kick that if you want to be a good writer. You can't just give the fuck up on basic rules of the craft.

- Regidar

hospitals arent all that bad...

Everything hurts. Living, breathing, being, you name it, it hurts, and its getting worse.
But “hurt” is a world I can’t just say, I have to say it alongside a brief description of what that “hurt” comes from.
To start, allow me to explain a little bit about why I am in a state of “hurt”.
I come from a line of breeders; a family of straight ponies, all of which have what I call insensitivity, a state of misunderstanding towards things that are different, and in response to the things that they are not, they seek to “fix” what they deem “broken”. My family deems me broken, or at least, they are catching on, and they only need one piece of evidence to decide to “fix” me.
And I just overheard something about the nurse preparing a cavity search, something about “signs of sexual assault. My thoughts jumped the gun and began with statements like their going to find out! and questions like maybe it’s for someone else?.
Thought number two decides it’s answer was more important. And allows an ambiguous nurse to come in, followed by a cart being pushed by a young, pale-cream coated stallion stallion.
I should mention by now that my temple and jaw were wrapped in gauze as was my upper midsection, my legs were lifted displaying my hocks to the open air. Though my crotch was covered up by a blanket, the outline was still there, displaying my sheath and humble gonads to the world through an embossment of silk. Oh, and blue balls is a bitch.
As the two settled in, the unknown spoke up, with a soothing tone she introduced herself and her colleague “hey there Sylvis, I’m nurse Redheart and this is my assistant” she gestured towards the nervous stallion to her right, “nurse bulb heart”.
That name, oh god that name, It rang in my ears, it made my heart pound, my god there was no way.
I will have to elaborate on this as well, my apologies for the anecdotes. When I first began exploring my sexuality, I began with personification, giving euphemisms I picked up from my parents immature “friends” character, creating for myself imaginary lovers like “hit and run”, “foul play”, “screw driver”, and many others. I had gone through so many, all of them dying off due to a lack of interest.
Then came bulb heart, the iron cock. his story was thus, he never goes flaccid, he has no such thing as “needing a break”, always ready to go, and never ready to stop.
And here he was, in all his glory, standing there, waiting for a hopeless sleeve to..
Oh yeah, back to the story.
In my haze I missed their explanation of what was going on. The sound of my name brought me out of my stupor.
“sylvis, please answer swiftly, the sooner this is done the sooner you may return to resting” the mare spoke, a hint of struck nerves coat her voice.
I quickly answered, unsure of what was going on, “what was the question”, I gave her an unsure smile, at least that’s what I hoped to be giving, my jaw being wrapped and all.

“would you be more comfortable with me, or bulb, to carry out the …”
fuck, that name gets me every time, my thoughts bled, once again proving to the world that my short attention span still rules.
In a drowsy, satisfied moan “Bulb”.
Red nodded apprehensibly, then whispered something into bulb’s ear. Bulb nodded, and proceeded to uncover the cart. Halfway through the unveiling a voice called out, “we need help over here we have 3 code magentas and need all available nurses to the E.R!” red jerked in response, looking between me and bulb, she let out a sigh and ran off through the doors, leaving me and bulb alone.
An awkward moment decided to stop by, prop its feet up, and enjoy the show.
“so” he forced, “is…there anything I n..need to know, or something you need to say, before we… start?”
My breath caught, a blush spread across my cheeks and I became acutely aware of how cold my crotch was becoming. There was something I needed to stay, and I didn’t want to say it.
He resumed the uncovering, as my sheath resumed as well.
My sheath decided to begin its performance due to the instrument that was uncovered earlier on the cart.
I can’t give you it’s real name, but the best I can tell you is this: it was a ten inch long, three inch thick, glass pole with bulbous protrusions every other inch, the only other feature it had was a rubber handle and a wire leading to some kind of unimportant block, I named it thriller.
I want to say my first thought was the desire I had to be filled by that beast. But the truth is, I was in the middle of the hardest would-you-rather I had ever faced.
Would you rather have bulb be the first real stallion to fuck you raw, or have your insides turned to mush by thriller.
But I didn’t have the guts to ask for either, all I could do was dream, that’s all I could ever do.
“sylvis”
Once again, my mind reached the end of it’s journey by the sound of my name.
“I’m going to say this, off the record, and…. I want you to know that…. I ” I heard him whisper into my ear, the tension, so tight you could snap it by blowing out a candle too hard.
“I can see what going on in your head” he spoke as quietly as he could, confusing me. why are you so nervous?
“because i’m using a spell”
“…”
The words he said rang in my head, bleeding the blues as my eyes suddenly watered up, making it rain sadness across my cheeks.
I closed my eyes and began sobbing, my breath catching every other wheeze, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. I resolved to just repeat my past emotional standing:
Everything hurts.
Living,
Breathing,
Being,
You name it, it hurts, and it’s getting worse.
And worse..
And worse…
But “hurt” is a world I can’t just say, I have to feel it too.

I felt a presence, a very unexpected presence, a presence that made me feel welcome, warm, and comfortable, the presence moved in and around, gracing every bit of mine with a gentle caress, its being can be only defined by a word containing an unknown quantity love.
What I was feeling, was a pair of lips, his lips, against mine, sending surges of the unknown through me in waves, waves as powerful as a tsunami, those waves turned into his tongue, where mine was the beach, he dominated my mouth.
Then, after what felt like the age of the known universe, the act stopped.
I don’t want this to ever end
“it doesn’t have to, Sylvia”
I didn’t have words to describe what I felt, only a question brought itself to light.
“what all did you see?” my voice shook, a rasp hidden under my wanting breath.
“oh, I don’t know, when did you first mention ‘blue balls’?”
He giggled a hint at my blush, then leaned in deeper. “so, tell me the story about thriller, surely he deserves a story, I mean” he reached his tongue out and licked my cheek, “you did compare him under the same context to me.”
I could barely focus, his question sent me into shock, my mind was mush and his every word pushed me to the edge of perception, at this point gravity was a mere suggestion, I felt an onslaught of contesting emotions, all of which had nothing better to do. Questions popped in and out of my head, all without answers: What do I say?, Where do I start?.
Then, in a wave of what most would describe as a transcendental moment, I began
“once upon a time…

Author's Note

ABOUT DAMN TIME