Wires and Whispers

by gamedestroyer112

Rating: mature
Tags: Profanity, Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, DJ P0N-3, Dark, Death, Sad, Princess Luna, Original Character, Suicide / Self Harm
Length: 1114

Nitebeat, a ponybot alicorn, struggles with her own self worth as she shuts down

Nitebeat, a ponybot alicorn, struggles with her own self worth as she shuts down. Falsely accused of stuff she never did, and hated, she exiles herself to be forgotten.

Published 2024-09-30 20:20:00 UTC
Last updated 2024-09-30 20:20:00 UTC

Disclaimer

This story contains sensitive topics of self harm, depression, suicide, and harassment. It is not for the faint of heart or those who can't handle such topics. If this bothers you, please do NOT continue reading. You have been warned.

This is a story about my oc and about depression and self harm. Hope it gets received well.

Author's Note

Nitebeat is my oc btw.

Nitebeat's Self Worth

Wires and Whispers- A short fic of my oc

Nitebeat had once stood tall in the dim lights of Ponyville, her presence a reminder of resilience, an unbreakable force created from a mixture of machine and magic. Raised by vinyl scratch and octavia melody, she had a good life. She had friends, a job as a musician, and even a Marefriend she loved dearly. But one day that all vanished in a flash. Her charcoal grey fur had once gleamed under the moonlight, her striped purple and red mane flowing with confidence, and her magenta eyes, filled with hope, had shone brightly. The purple music note with red headphones adorning her flank was a symbol of her passion for remixing melodies of hope. She had fought battles, protected the ones she loved, and done her best to show the world her true self. But now, she found herself here—discarded, broken, and forgotten in the endless sea of junk just outside Ponyville.

The wind howled through the rusted remains of long-forgotten machinery. Broken gears, cracked screens, and discarded wires lay in piles around her, serving as a grim reminder that she no longer belonged in a world that had once embraced her. Nitebeat stood still, her magenta eyes dimmed, her wings hanging limply by her sides. The once vibrant circuits that pulsed under her fur sparked feebly in the cold night air. She had shut herself down hours ago, or was it days? Time no longer mattered.

Her descent into exile had been swift and brutal. It had all started with the accusations, whispered at first but soon growing louder, fueled by fear and ignorance. Someone had framed her, twisting her past as a P.O.N.Y. Bot and her connection to her past mistakes into something monstrous. They called her a killer, crazy, a monster, a danger to those around her. The actions she took to protect Ponyville were rebranded as a façade for murder, the party plans she made for friends were painted as distractions for darker deeds, and even her love for her marefriend was used against her. The lies spread like wildfire, and no matter how hard she tried to prove them wrong, no one would listen.

They turned on her.

Her friends—Sound Bandit, Aftermath, even Conscat—distanced themselves, believing in the fabricated evidence that painted her as the villain. The death threats began, first as warnings, then as promises. She could hear the whispers in the alleys, the muttered words of those she had once called allies. Harassment became a daily occurrence, but it wasn’t until Princess Celestia and Luna decreed her exile that Nitebeat realized she had lost everything.

The final blow had been her marefriend’s silence. She didn’t stand by her. She didn’t fight for her. She simply vanished when she needed her most, like so many others.

So she left.

She took herself to the one place where discarded things went to be forgotten, to the salvage yard where she had once been found and reactivated. The irony wasn’t lost on her. It had come full circle. This time, though, there was no hope of being saved, no one searching for her. She had chosen to fade away, to toss herself among the rusted relics of the past and let time do the rest.

The darkness crept in as she slowly powered down. Her systems whirred quietly, processing the last few thoughts before they would go silent forever.

Was she really that dangerous? Had she been wrong all along? Maybe she deserved this—this fate of being left to rust. Maybe they were right to hate her.

Her vision flickered as her thoughts became slower, more fragmented. She replayed memories of laughter, of parties filled with music she had created, of battles won side by side with those who now feared her. Her heart—if she even had one—ached for the loss of her family, her friends, her love. Vinyl Scratch, her mother, would have told her to keep fighting, to never give up. But what was left to fight for when everything had been taken away?

Nitebeat's wings twitched, their once strong, sleek form now dull and motionless. She felt her circuits begin to go cold, her internal systems shutting down one by one. Soon, she would be nothing more than another forgotten relic among the mountains of debris.

A tear—a strange, glitching tear—slid down her cheek. She hadn’t cried in years, but now, as the end approached, she allowed herself this one last expression of grief. She had tried so hard to be better, to show others she was a good mare, to protect those she cared for, to prove that she wasn’t the monster they believed her to be.

But none of it mattered.

With a final, soft sigh, Nitebeat’s systems went silent. The last glow of her once-brilliant magenta eyes faded to black as she sank into the stillness of oblivion.

She was alone.

She was forgotten.

And, as far as she knew, she deserved it.

The junkyard remained eerily quiet, the only sound the occasional creak of metal shifting under the weight of time. Nitebeat was just another broken thing now, lost to a world that no longer wanted her.

But somewhere, deep within the layers of her coding, in the place where the magic had merged with the machine, a faint spark remained—a whisper of life, a fragment of hope. Buried beneath the weight of her despair, it lingered, waiting.

For maybe, just maybe, the world wasn’t quite finished with her yet.clocks.

As she shut down and darkness began to creep in around her, the llastthing she saw was a silhouette of a purple stripped black earth pony with red eyes and some kind of cat like tail. and as she fell in that peaceful darkness she heard the final words shed ever hear. A smile creapt onto her face as thd female voice said that everything will be ok and this all will be over soon. And to Nitebeat, she hoped this pony was speaking the truth.

Author's Note

Hope you enjoyed! Please go check out Fallout Equestria: Atomic Countdown. It's one of my better works. It's not finished yet mind you. But what is there is really good. Promise.