emerging from my writing hell because i saw this and KNEW i had to make something. so @BadLuck thank you for making one of the first fluffy comics i got into and for making bosco so damn hateable that i’ve always wanted to kick his shit in <3
apologies that this is writing instead of art, but i feel my writing is more descriptive :)) hope you guys enjoy!!
. . .
“i’m gonna go plant this bush out front, you two be good.”
“otay daddeh!”
“otay mistew.”
the sound of heavy boots fades out as charles leaves, their fluffies left alone in the backyard. aster taps his hooves excitedly, turning to face sweetie. “oooh, we hab da whowe yawd! wat sweetie wan du?”
she takes a minute to look around, turning slightly as to see behind her. “…hmm. i tink i’ww just way down. da sun feews nice.”
“aww, awe ‘ou suwe?” he holds his front hooves together, doing his best puppy eyes, which have long since stopped working on her. she just flops down in response, rolling onto her back. “den astew wiww… wiww… commit cwimes!”
“‘ou wiww not,” sweetie huffs, tone affectionate, “‘ou am tuu nice fow dat.”
“weww, astew stiww couwd!”
unknown to them, however, a third fluffy hides just behind the fence, listening in. he peers through a gap between the planks: a stallion and a mare. perfect for new litter and enfie pals respectively, he thinks, snickering to himself. “if bosco nu can find owd mummah, den just hab tu find anotha dummeh hoomin.”
he starts digging his way under the fence, quickly darting between a few bundles of flowers. his purple fur and pink hair stick out painfully among the yellow and orange petals, but the other fluffies aren’t facing his way. they sit just a few feet in front of him, still bantering. his stomach drops upon seeing how much bigger than him the stallion is, but just puffs his chest out and flairs his wings to counterbalance it. it won’t be a problem, obviously; nothing he can’t deal with.
the mare seems like an easy target, at least, already being in a vulnerable position. bosco crouches, stalking over, steps as quiet as possible. it takes everything for him to not jump right between the two and declare the yard his, but he manages to hold in his demands for long enough to leap at the mare and dig his hooves right into her belly.
she instantly chokes and tries to jerk back, muscles convulsing and neck whipping around to try and get a look at her attacker. the other stallion jumps up. bosco lands nearby, planting one of his hooves right on sweetie’s chest to keep her down.
“dummeh fwuffies!” he near yells, “dis am bosco’s wand nao! wiww get toysies and nummies and ‘ou two wiww be bosco’s wittew an enfie pa-”
he’s interrupted by the other stallion leaping at him, knocking him off the mare and onto the grass. the world spins from the sudden blood rush, and that’s enough time for aster to pin his wings to the ground with his hooves. “‘ou wiww not,” he hisses, “nao weabe befowe astew bites ‘ouw speciaw wumps off.”
bosco struggles from beneath him, muscles straining before he eventually kicks aster’s chest with his legs. “dummeh! get off bosco!” he jerks his head up to snap at the blue fluffy’s throat, and aster gasps, one hoof raising to press against it. bosco is able to successfully wiggle his way out from under him, then beats relentlessly at the other fluffy’s side. “‘ou heawd bosco, wittew paw. nao stay down an jus-”
CLANG
something heavy hits the pegasus right in the head, a loud, piercing sound ringing through his ears. he collapses, the sound too loud and pain too intense for him to hear anything, only seeing a metal shovel stuck in the ground. “hhh… wha…”
somebody grabs him roughly by the scruff. charles raises him to their face, then surveys the damage: aster limps while standing back up, bruises likely starting to already form under his fur, while sweetie sticks close to their leg, having stumbled her way to getting them. they feel rage start to build just looking at the two, and they wordlessly drop bosco onto the ground.
“you two know the deal already,” they grin, nervous demeanor nowhere to be seen. “rough him up if you want before i get rid of him.”
sweetie just stares silently. aster makes his way over to the other pegasus that is now starting to drool, then rises. “dis am fow astew’s sistah, meanie.” he then slams his front legs into one of bosco’s wings. bosco himself wheezes, the sound drowned out by bones snapping. it twitches pitifully, bent and sticking at the wrong angle.
charles makes a noise of approval. sweetie falters, then slowly walks up as well, around to his other side. she pushes his back legs apart, careful to not touch the piss running down them. “‘ou awen’t da fiwst pewson dats twied to gib me bad enfies,” she says, scrutinizing. her expression soon turns to one of disgust, and she kicks him with a quick movement. “‘ou awen’t speciaw.”
bosco just makes an indiscernible, pained noise. his legs twitch in an attempt to protect himself, but he’s unable to find the strength, not with the darkness in the edges of his vision.
“good girl,” charles praises, then grabs bosco once again by the tail. “and you did good as well, aster. now let me… take care of this thing and we can go have some sketties. does that sound good?”
“yes, daddeh!” aster’s already returned to sweetie’s side, who nods along with him.
“great! you two can go back inside, just give me a minute.” with that, they grab their shovel, returning to the front yard. their bush lays half-buried, having been interrupted, and they free their hands to pull it back up.
“did you know fluffies make good fertilizer?” they glare down at the incapacitated fluffy, tone carefully blank. “maybe you’ll be some help.”
they grab him and nearly slam him into the hole, which is too deep for him to possibly climb out of even if he were able to move. it’s nearly two feet deep, given how thorough charles is. they stand back up, grabbing the shovel and eyeing the fluffy one last time before they start filling the hole back up.
bosco is just conscious enough to watch them through blurred vision, coughing when dirt falls onto him and into his gaping mouth. it sticks to his tongue and saliva, and he’s forced to twist his eyes shut when some gets there too. it’s surrounding him, the weight quickly adding onto his small body. he tries to speak - one last curse at the fluffies who ruined his plans, at the human who isn’t even sparing him a glance while they kill him - but all that comes out is a small, garbled choke.
and yet, even in his final moments, he’s unable to reflect on his actions. all he can think of is how stupid they all are, how he’ll somehow find some way out of this and get revenge on them. there’s no way he can’t - he always gets what he wants, and that’s just how it’s supposed to go. surely he’ll dig his way back up, or open his eyes to see that this was all a dream, because it’s simply not possible for this to be happening.
but try as he might, his limbs are frozen stiff. his nose and mouth are full of dirt, rancid and disgusting and tainting him, blocking his airways. his eyes are burning, but even if he opened them, all he would see is darkness. he can’t tell which way is up and which is down, more or less escape, and so he’s left to suffocate and rot.
the plants shine brighter that year.