"Chris and Lavender: Separation Anxiety" by NobodyAtAll

As I’m sitting on the ground, in the alleyway I woke up in not long ago, a garbage bag serving as a cushion between me and the wall, picking raw bits of foal out of my teeth, ignoring the wails of its mother and surviving siblings echoing from a garbage can, barefoot, disheveled, and in dire need of a long, hot shower, a change of clothes, a decent meal, and some socks and shoes, a realisation hits my still-inebriated mind:

I’ve hit rock bottom.


Okay, so my life hasn’t been all that good, lately.

I got home after a bad night on the town and walked right into an intervention. Things just went downhill from there.

What was the intervention about?

Well, pretty much everything.

The drinking, the hookers, and the fact that I’d started impaling fluffies again.

I honestly don’t remember doing the last one, but a couple of days before James split I woke up in the old barn holding a mutilated fluffy, next to a bunch of foals on sticks. (“Foal onna stick! Two for a dollar, and that’s cutting me own throat!”) It sounds like me, and my memory isn’t the best when I’m blind stinking drunk. So I’m willing to accept that I did it. It was only the cherry on top compared to everything else I’ve done lately.

And at that point, I discovered that I wasn’t just hungover, I was actually still drunk.

I unloaded everything on my brother. Everything that had been on my mind.

The fact that my efforts to protect my fluffy (who I honestly couldn’t care less about now) had gotten me kicked out of my house.

That I had to see the woman of my dreams fall in love with some deadbeat stoner, and that I had to listen to my brother plow the other woman of my dreams every night. Yeah, and Leslie had promised to keep it down. I accused him of doing it on purpose, too, of fucking Helen that hard just to annoy me.

How I felt about Helen, and the extensive list of things that I wanted to do with Helen, or to Helen, or have her do to me, and that I had already gotten a glimpse of my brother’s wife’s naked body in all her glory. And yes, she heard it all too.

And the fact that I had suffered all of this because of a broken death magnet shitrat (I didn’t react at all to the look on Lavender’s face when she heard that) that some stupid old man had ordered me to protect, because she’s “a victim”. As if I’m not a victim!

At that point, my brother cut me off. He’d had enough.

He said that everyone knew about my problems but me. Ha, I’m not the one with a problem, the world’s got a problem with me!

He said that I needed help, and I disagreed. I said that what I needed was another drink, a good lay, and I made eye contact with Helen as I said that, and a shitrat to kick, and I made eye contact with Lavender as I said that.

It didn’t get better from there. Long story short?

I got kicked out again.

This time, Lavender is staying behind. I wasn’t happy about that.

Not because I cared about the shitrat anymore, but she was still my property. I paid a bundle for the broken shitrat, she’s registered under my name!

Plus, I had plans for Lavender. I was gonna pimp her fluffy ass out. To stallions, men, dogs, I don’t care, as long as they’re paying me. If she craps out any foals I can’t sell, hey, a guy’s gotta eat. I openly admitted these plans to Leslie.

Leslie said that they were going to call Dr. Fooshoo, or whatever the fuck that frog prick calls himself, explain everything, and alter her registration immediately. He said that there was no way in Hell that I was ever going near Lavender again.

He said that I was just as bad as James. Okay, that stung a bit.

At this point I made the mistake of trying to take back what is rightfully mine, and walked out of the house with nothing more than a black eye and several bruises for my trouble.

The cab driver, who’d had a hunch and stuck around, offered to drive me back to the city for free. He said that I’d already paid more than enough for a round trip with a shit-eating grin on his face. I knew he was ripping me off.

The last thing I remember before sitting in this alley with screams in my ears, a foal’s head in my mouth, and the rest of the foal in my hand, was the cab arriving in the rough part of town, and stepping out in desperate need of a drink and a hole.


You are Lavender, and you don’t think the inner-ven-shun went so well.

So daddeh finally came home, smelling really not-pretty, and it started well. Uncle Leslie started talking, and then auntie Helen, and then your daddeh’s old friends.

Then your daddeh started talking.

A lot.

He said a lot of really mean things about all of you.

He said you were a bad broken fluffy, and it made you cry, you were so saddies to hear your daddeh say that, and he said he wanted to do things with auntie that you didn’t really understand, but judging by how she reacted, they probably weren’t very nice.

Then he said what he wanted to do with you.

At that point, you weren’t just sad, you were terrified.

You don’t want barkie-munstahs to do that to you!

At this point daddeh’s friends stood between you and him. You felt glad, and thanked them later.

Uncle said that daddeh had to go, without you. You were relieved to hear that, because you’d heard what daddeh wanted to do to you, but it also made you sadder, because daddeh may be a munstah now but he’s still your daddeh!

Daddeh didn’t want to go without you, and he tried to grab you, but then someone gave him owwies and he left. You don’t know who did it. At this point, you were curled up in a ball with your see-places closed. You almost started chirping, like when you were a chirpy babbeh.

Now daddeh’s friends are gone, and it’s just you and auntie and uncle. They’re calming you down with a big bowl of your favorite treat, blackcurrant ice cream, and you’re wrapped in your bestest uncle blankie.

Where’s James? You haven’t seen him at all for a few bwite times. Oh well. Fudge James. (Fluffies don’t like swearing.)

“That was pretty scary, huh Lav? Well, it’s over now.”

“Am oba? But whewe daddeh gu?

“Probably nowhere good, sweetie. It broke my heart to have to do that to my own brother, but I’m afraid he might be too far gone. I really hope he gets his shit together before it’s too late.”

“I guess now we know which side of the family James got his issues from. Honestly, I still don’t entirely believe the mess in the old barn wasn’t his doing. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s framed someone. I don’t think we’ll invite him back to the farm until he’s gotten help, either.”

“In my family’s defence, I like to think that I turned out alright. I’d never do the things they do to fluffies. I just can’t help but feel bad for the little fluffballs. Two out of three ain’t that bad, right?”

“And you sure did turn out alright.”

You interrupt the following kiss because there’s something on your mind.

“Su… su wha bowt Wavendew? Whewe Wavendew gu?”

Your uncle strokes your fluff, and you coo at his touch.

“You? You ain’t going nowhere, girl! Did you really think we’d kick you out?”

You didn’t really think about this.

“Su… su… awn-tee an un-cuw am… am nyu mummah an daddeh?”

“That about sums it up, yes.”

Your new daddeh scoops you up into his arms, and he and your new mummah hug you, as you squeal in delight.

You’re thrilled. You’re still sad for your old daddeh, and you still hope that he gets better, but you’re elated to know that you’ll be taken care of by hoomins you already know and love.

“That reminds me, we should call the doctor right away. Faucheuse, was it? He needs to know what’s happened, he told us to call him if something was up.”

“And tomorrow, I’ve got to drive up to the city. There’s something I need to get. I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I think it’s time Lavender had a companion of her own species. We’ve got the space for another fluffy or two, right Helen?”

“Oh yeah. I feel sorry for the one we found in the barn. Oh, but the shelter we brought him to called this morning, apparently he was taken home by an old lady who has a soft spot for fluffies who have been through the wringer. He’s recovering nicely.”

Hold on.

Did your new daddeh just say what you think he just said?

You’re getting some new friends, too!

This is the best day ever!


“This is the worst day ever.

I stumble out of the alleyway, hoping the change I’ve got in my pocket is enough for a bottle of cheap booze and a cheaper fuck. My card was already blocked, thanks to the fraudulent charges that had started popping up.

“But hey…”

I pause, walk back in, puke in the garbage can with the fluffy family trapped inside, and walk back out.

“It can’t get any worse than this.

As I’m crossing the street, in my drunken, half-conscious state, I don’t notice the oncoming truck.


CHRISTOPHER OLDMAN?

“Yes?”

YOU HAVE NO IDEA EXACTLY HOW WRONG YOU ARE.

“…Oh, shit.

10 Likes

I want to see Lavender given owwies the nerve of Chris’s family lol

2 Likes

Rip he just got isekai’d .

3 Likes

Oh no, no magical adventures in JRPG Land for Chris. Where he’s going… well, let me put it like this: if you went on vacation there, you wouldn’t need to pack any warm clothes.

3 Likes

Ah, good old truck-kun. He never fails to please.

3 Likes

The morals of this story are as follows:

  • Drink with moderation,
  • Always wear a rubber,
  • Always look both ways before crossing the street,
  • And never, ever, ever say that it can’t get any worse!
3 Likes

Part of me is hoping the doctor is able to set Chris’ brother straight regarding how likely it is that her condition will lead to unfortunate happenings with any other fluffies.

The other part of me is hoping he doesn’t for exactly that reason.

2 Likes

The good doctor has taken Lavender’s condition into account. See my new story “Lavender: Hope Springs Eternal”. It’s been mentioned a few times, but some fluffies are immune to P53.

2 Likes

Of the few jrpgs I’ve played they’re the closest things I can imagen to what hell is like.

2 Likes

Lmao Truck-kun can strike anywhere at any time.

2 Likes

If Chris hadn’t gone back into the alley to puke on the poor fluffies in the trashcan, the truck probably would have missed him. Puking on those fluffies was, karmically speaking, the straw that finally broke the camel’s back.

3 Likes

Oh my god- what the FUCK happened to the man who loved hearing his fluffy ramble?- what the fuck- oh my god someone get this bastard to rehab-

Ohhh i love this contrast so so much

TRUCK-CHAN HERE TO FUCK SHIT UP!!

gosh i’m reading through these and I still love the contrast. Chris’s shit show and downfall balanced perfectly by Lavender’s innocence and adorable ness. though i kinda wish she kept calling them her aunt and uncle, as people do often get taken in by aunts or uncles when the main guardian cant care for them. but i guess fluffies just like having someone to call a mom or dad.

1 Like

I had fun, depicting Chris’ spiral into degeneracy. Seeing him go from quasi-justified to, well, this.

And I think you’re about to find out just how much deeper he sinks…

1 Like