Amelia and the Rejects (By: GreaverBlade) (Characters by: brighterdaze and

“Mummah! Mummah! Mummah am homsies!”

Amelia was so excited to see her mummah after so long apart. She’d left early this bright time, and had been gone for forever and ever! It was almost darkies time!

Amelia’s mummah unlocked the door and entered the apartment, slipping off her shoes as she closed the door behind her.

The bring pink fluffy ran headlong at her mummah, ready to leap in to her arms for huggies! She was so excited! Amelia knew she wasn’t support to run inside her homsie, but she just loved her mummah so much, she couldn’t wait any longer to see her.

Galloping a full speed, Amelia rushed towards her mummah, but caught her hoof on the floor strip between the carpeted living room and the hardwood of the front hall. She tumbled forward and rolled in to the small wooden table where her mummah kept the pretty vase. Her unchecked skid sent the table rocking and the vase tumbled to the floor, shattering the glass and spilling water and flowers everywhere.

Amelia stood up and stepped on one of the shard, cutting in to her hoof.

“OUCHIES!”, she cried! “Mummah! Amewiah an sowwy! Wub mummah su much! Wan huggies! Sowwy fow messy! Pwease gib huggies fow owwie?”

Amelia’s mummah looked down at her, standing on three legs and sucking on her injured hoof.

Amelia’s mummah put her shoes back on, reached for the leash hanging from the coat hook mounted on the wall by the door, and hooked it to Amelia’s collar.

“Wawkies! Amewiah wub wawkies wif mummah! Bu’ Amewiah hab hoovsie huwties…”, the pink Pegasus sulked.

Amelia’s mummah, still not saying a word, picked up her fluffy, and carried her outside to the car.

Amelia continued to chatter with excitement as she sat in the front passenger seat of the car. She was so excited! She loved riding in the metal munstah! Then she saw the Fluffmart! Mummah was taking her to get toysies!

Amelia’s mummah parked her car, and lifted Amelia in to her arms. But instead of walking in to the Fluffmart as expected, she walked around the side of the building.

She set the fluffy on the ground and, with the leash still hooked to her collar, tied her to a gas pipe on the side of the building.

“Mummah? Amewiah nu wike dis pwace!”

Amelia’s mummah looked down at her, unblinking. She just… stared.

“Mummah? Amewiah wub mummah! Gib huggies! Amewiah am sowwy fow mess! Wan’ go homesies an’ cwean up!”, the fluffy said, looking up at her beloved mummah.

Amelia’s mummah squinted her eyes tight, and rubbed her temples. Finally, she spoke to her fluffy.

“You aren’t going home. You don’t have a home any more. I’m done with you.”

“Wu… wut mummah mean?”, the unicorn asked.

“I never should have bought you. A fucking discount designer. Yeah, you had good colors, but of course your price was too good to be true. I’m never buying an HG fluffy again. I’m never buying a fluffy again. You are all just… trash.”

“Mummah… mummah nu wub Amewiah?”, the fluffy said, tears forming in her eyes.

“NO! CHRIST! YOU PINK WASTE OF SPACE! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO STAY IN YOUR FUCKING SAFE ROOM AND LOOK PRETTY! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE QUIET, AND DO WHAT YOU WERE TOLD!”, Amelia’s mummah bellowed at her.

“You were supposed to be decoration that could talk. NOTHING FUCKING MORE! But no! You had to be a hyperactive, destructive, little sack of affection. ‘Oooh! I’m Amelia! I’m going to run around like a maniac and break things! I’m going to mess up everything in my momma’s nice home! I’m a retarded pink moron horse!’ I’m so fucking done with you, fluffies, EVERYTHING!”

Amelia’s heart broke. She began to cry and wail in earnest.

“HUU HUU! MUMMAH PWEAASE! HUU HUU!”

She tugged at the leash tied to the pipe.

“MUMMAH! AMEWIAH AM SU SOWWY! PWEASE NU WEAVE! NU MEAN TO MAKE MESS! MUMMAH! PWEASE CUM BACK! HUUUUU!”

Amelia kept tugging and weeping, watching as her mummah drove away without even a look back.


Inside the fluff mart, Jerry was getting ready to close up for the night. Early December meant the new Christmas foals were going to be the hot sellers, and the last patch was now expired. He walked over to the ‘Last Chance’ bin, and looked down. Three foals, fully maned, and just shy of their adolescence looked up at him, sadness in their eyes.

“Pwease nice mistah! Pwease gib babbehs homsies?”

That was the foal Jerry thought of as Slash, on account of the giant slash-scar across his face. The colt had initially come in as a fall-color premium, but an abuser had feigned interest in purchasing him. The jackass had tried blinding him with a box cutter, leaving the distinct scar across the orange patch around his eye. ‘Slash’ had freaked out in the abusers arms and fallen to the floor, snapping the tip off his horn. The store staff had forced the abuser out of the store, but ‘Slash’ was now damaged goods. What had started as a lovely charcoal black unicorn with an orange mane, orange body markings, and a long red horn has become a bargain discount. Nobody wanted the traumatized, injured, defective foal.

“Am onwy widdew babbehs! Pwease nu gib fowebbah sweepies!”, another voice begged.

That was the busted pegasus, that Jerry had nicknamed ‘Sidewinder’, as she was missing a wing. She was a Rainbow Dash, foal. Normally desirable, but one of the bitch mares didn’t like her playing with her foals and tried to murder her. She’d bitten off the filly’s right wing before the store staff could pull her off. That cunt had been pillowed, her foals taken away, and now she was a milk mare in the back. Serves her right, damaging a premium fluffy like that.

The third sound from the bin was simple terrified wimpering. The brown earthy was a drop off. He had a striking aquamarine mane and tail, along with aquamarine fluffy around his hooves, liked he’d splashed in paint. He was the cast off of a high-end breeding pair. He’d been in the bin the longest, and while he’d get the occasional look over, nobody ever took him. The constant rejection had left him wallowing in self-loathing, making anybody who might be interested even less so. Who wanted a depressed fluffy?

“Hey little guys, I’m not going to kill you, OK?”, Jerry told them. And it was true. The incinerator needed a new sparker, so he couldn’t get the gas lit safely.

“In fact, I’m going to take you to a new place entirely!”

“Weally!?”, the unicorn perked up. “Nu homsies fow babbehs?”

“Yeah!”, Jerry said. “Let me tidy up, and I’ll take you to your new home.”

Jerry finished out his closing routine, and make his way back to the last chance bin.

“OK little friends! Are you ready for your new home?”, he asked them in a mock-excited voice.

The foals, not understanding sarcasm, began to cheer and hug one another. Even the brown one Jerry couldn’t be bothered to name in his head looked hopeful.

He carried their bin through the back, and out the side door, bumping it open with his hip. Stepping outside, he thought her hear somebody crying, but paid it no mind. He had beer and weed waiting at home, and the problems of others were not going to delay him. Jerry set the bin on the ground and opened up one of the metal trash cans in the alleyway next to the Fluffmart side door. Lifting the bin, he smiled down at the foals.

“Time for your new homes, guys!”, he smiled at them. He tipped the three foals in to the trash can, and shook their urine and feces out on top of them.

“You three are trash, so that’s your new home!” He sneered at them and slammed the trash can lid down, before he had to listen to their weeping again.

“Cripes, glad to be done with those little fuckers.” Jerry locked up, got in his car, and went home to his mind altering activities.


The three foals wept. They were alive, but stuck in the dark stinky place. They’d never have a home. Their little hearts broke, and they wept all the louder.

Amelia was done weeping. She had no more tears left in her. She lay on the ground in distress and depression, unable to motivate herself to get up. And it was getting cold.

A sudden clang started her out of her stupor. She heard a human laughing. Then quiet. Then she heard something else…

“Babbehs?”

“huu huu huu huu”

“BABBEHS!”, Amelia exclaimed. There were babbehs crying! Amelia ran toward the sound, but was cut short and violently choked by the leash teathering her to the pipe.

She looked around frantically. She tried biting down on the leash, but it was way to tough for her teeth.

Amelia was starting to panic. There were babbehs! They were sad! She had to save them! Her own grief forgotten, Amelia was focused on getting free and saving the babbehs no matter what.

She spotted a discarded beer bottle further in to the alleyway. She made her way towards it to the furthest extent the leash would let her, and then angled her body so her rear legs would be closer. Working blind, she felt the bottle and carefully tried to roll it forward with her hoof.

“Nu wowwy babbehs! Amewiah wiww sabe babbehs!”, she called down the alley.

Then her hoof slipped and the bottle went clattering away from her. Amelia turned around, terrified she’d lost her only chance at saving the babbehs! The bottle bounced off a crate, and began to roll back towards her. She let the bottle roll on its own until it was well within her reach. Picking it up by the neck with her teeth, Amelia set the bottle on its side against the building, under the pipe.

Closing her eyes and preparing herself, she reared up and brought both her front hooves down on the bottle, shattering it in to shards.

“OUCHIES!”, she cried. “SCREE! WOWSTEST HUWTIES!” Her poor hooves were gouged and bleeding. But she had what she needed.

Carefully picking up the largest shard with her teeth, Amelia turned and began to slash and slice at the leash. Slow and agonizing, she eventually was able to cut her way through her tether.

Limping down the dirty alley, Amelia could hear the babbehs ‘huu huu’ing’ in a trash can.

She tapped the can with her rear hoof to get the foals attention.

“Hewwo babbehs! Fwuffy am Amewiah! Amewiah wiww sabe babbehs!”

The foals stopped crying at once. “Nice fwuffy sabe babbehs! Pwease! Am dawk and stinky! Babbehs hab sickies!”

Amelia wasn’t going to let the babbehs suffer any longer. She carefully walked away from the trash can, and braced herself for the pain she was about to endure.

Running at full speed, bleeding from her front hooves, Amelia barreled in to the trash can. It rocked sideways, once, twice, and finally tipped over. The lid popped off and out tumbled three foals. They were damp with tears, covered in their own vomit from the rotting reak, and sticky with trash. Also spilled out were the half rotted corpses of several other fluffies. The foals looked in horror at what had been their prison, and they scurried around the back of the trash can, away from the awful sight.

Amelia carefully made her way to the foals, her hooves in terrible pain. The bleeding had largely stopped, though this was due to the dirt and filth now caking the wounds.

“Fank 'ou nuw mummah!”, the orange and black unicorn said. “Nuw mummah sabe babbehs! Babbehs wub nuw mummah!”

“Babbeh wan’ Amewiah be mummah?”, she said, surprised. Amelia hadn’t thought about being a mummah. Her home life was focused on running, and playing, and exploring. She liked babbehs and didn’t want to see them ever have hurties. But a mummah?

“Amewiah nu unna’stan’ how be mummah, bu’ Amewiah wiww twy!”, she told the foals.

The three trotted up to her and gave her hugs. Amelia smiled at them, but winced at the pain in her hooves.

“Mummah hab huwties?”, the one-winged pegasus asked.

“Mummah hab wowstest hoovsies huwties, babbehs. Mummah need shawpie fingy fow sabe babbehs, but get wowstest huwties when make shawpie fingy.”

The foals gathered around her front hooves, and gave them the biggest hugs they could.

“Babbehs gib huggies! Huggies make huwties go’way!”, the pegasus said.

Amelia smiled at her new babbehs. “Aww wight babbehs! Am cowd time! Need fin’ wawm pwace!”

“Babbehs wiww hewp!”, the unicorn told her.

Amelia carefully made her way down the alley and towards the street. The foals kept pace with, and worked together to move any obstacles out of her way. Limping along, and doing her best not to cry out with each step, Amelia and her foals arrived at the sidewalk in front of the Fluffmart.

The sun had fallen, and Amelia looked up and down the sidewalk, illuminated by the street lights. Completely lost, Amelia decided one direction was as good as any other. She and the foals began their plodding walk away from the Fluffmart store.

Inspired by and used with creator permission from:
https://fluffy-community.com/t/left-all-alone-brighterdaze/41822
and

May or may not get a continuation. We’ll see how things shake out.

26 Likes

Hope they find a new life.

Too smart for a regular domestic fluffy(not that ferals are smarter tho) IMO… Other than that, great story, yet seems to be little unfinished… Or its just an open-end?

2 Likes

I mean imo you GOTTA continue it now. Hugbox ending IMO if you can, sad box at worst. I’m rooting for these fluffies.

2 Likes

This was good and the right amount of heartbreaking.

Bonus points for having fluffies not be completely braindead!

Poor babbehs. :cry: I hope they make it.

I write fluffies as generally smarter than the “gets lost in a cardboard box” level of stupid. Also, she understands that glass shatters in to sharp shards, having learned so just a few hours prior when the broke the vase.

That’s reasonable. But anyway glass beerbottle has relatively thick walls, so even a human need to imply significant force to break it into shards by striking it over hard surface or edge. So, to me, view of a 2-2.5kg(whole mass) fluffy, that breaks glass bottle by her SOFT HOOVES by just stomping it from not-so-much-height(what height is it? 15-20cm?)? Not to mention that she uses not her full mass, but just a 25-30% of it… That seems like something impossible for me!

P.S. For the sake of experiment - try to break the beer bottle by stepping on it yourself (do not forget to wear a thick hard boot so that the fragments do not cut through it and stick into your foot sole)
P.P.S. I’m not argue just for-the-sake-of-argue, just tried to show my view on order of things…

1 Like

No offense taken or anything. I appreciate pretty much any feedback.

Assume the bottle was already cracked from being tossed in the alley, and the label was holding it together. A little more force and the glass shatters completely.

3 Likes

sad ending wanted them to die