It’s been about a day since you’ve gotten your two new fluffies. The hardest part of hand-rearing foals is mostly the routine. You’ve gotta keep them close by in case they get hungry so they’re on a tiny pet bed that the clerk said was perfect for little guys like these. With a plastic lining that can be removed for cleaning, it worked out great for those moments where they piss or defecate in their own nest. Of course, feeding them is another thing that you quickly got used to. As much as they say that foals did better with the real stuff, the formula that he provided you did work out well. They weren’t too keen on it at first, but hunger is the best spice of all. Let them starve for a little bit, and those little shits will eat anything that you set in front of them.
As much as they seem to quickly heal, the scabbing and gradual regrowth of skin did require some help on your end. Applying antiseptic, and an aloe cream from your medicine cabinet for further aid. The pegasus let out clear chirps of discomfort, tearing up from the pain, but the soothing ointment eased down the discomfort. For all the pain you put him through, he grew to appreciate your ministrations, rolling into your hand and nuzzling against the palm. Of course, your full undivided attention towards him didn’t go unnoticed by the alicorn which was quick to cry about the lack of love going his way. Touching his cheek softly, letting the foal know that he was in the hands of a loving parent. Not really realizing that this was the same person that took his leggies and made him suffer in the first place.
God, fluffies are fucking stupid. And that’s the best part about them.
You couldn’t exactly give the alicorn that same level of disfigurement. Physical deformities, loss of parts, or anything that can visibly be noticed by others would naturally take away from any financial gain that might come from selling him. The one thing you lucked out on with buying him was that you got a discount from the fact that one of the mares bit him. Ignoring the fact behind why that mare in particular decided to carry him with her mouth in such a manner, it took down the price. Pain can be given in so many ways, and just watching him lament over being neglected. It made your heart sing. He must have been so used to being the favorite. It is strange that his mother treated him so well despite his… appearance. Alicorns tend to be ostracized the most, but then again fluffies raised by humans from the start tend to do the best at tolerating them.
The alicorn’s cries are more loud vocalized chirps, a sound that reminded you of a toddler throwing a tantrum, he even defecated in a fit of anger and frustration. You just ignored him. Even when he found his sounds meant nothing, even when his voice started to strain from the overuse. Until the sounds gradually became weak, tears falling from his shut eyes, his squeaks becoming more pleading and sorrowful than just angry nonsense. He lifted his hooves up, struggling to find someone to hug, desperate and longing. That’s the pain that you wanted. Begging for attention, longing for a loving touch, the soft caress of a hand and a voice that fills his ears with those sweet words that every fluffy loves to hear.
Of course, the break in spirit deserved to be praised. Yet, the shit pooling under his ass needed to be addressed. Letting down the little pegasus on the counter, you went back to the alicorn and took him from his mess. Peeling away the plastic layer, it got a good scrub in the sink, and left out to dry. Very easy, very quick. The little purple fluffy got to be next, and he was more spirited in complaining about your rough handling. Cleaning away the shit that clung to his ass, rinsing him off and applying some shampoo so he can smell decently once more. All the while, you smiled, “You’ve been a bad baby. Making bad poopies in your bed like that and getting it on yourself. Stinky babies are bad babies. Do you want to be a stinky bad baby?”
Just the words “bad baby” seemed to hurt the alicorn, he squealed and cried over your playful scolding. Every “bad” you said to him cut into his soul, squealing at the verbal lashing within your hands, trying to hug anything that he could get a hoof on. The way you’re washing him, he isn’t able to do much more than flail weakly. Giving up, he just suckles on his hoof, sobbing as he’s dried off and placed next to the pegasus. As much as he seemed to develop a rivalry towards his partner, the little alicorn doesn’t fight off the hug that the emerald green fluffy gives. Instead, he returns the kindness, sobbing painfully with his head nuzzled under the chin of the other. You took both of them as they held each other, keeping them together and loving them both. Well, really just holding them to your chest while they do all the work. The sobs of the alicorn faded into soft coos, the pair finding comfort in your embrace.
“Daddy loves his little babies. They will always have love, huggies, and all the milk that they want. Babies that earn their daddy’s love always are loved. As long as they always listen to daddy and never make him sad.”
Smiling down, you add, “Making daddy sad means babies are being bad. And bad babies get no love, or huggies, or milkies. Bad babies are always cold. Always hungry, and they get no love. Do you want to be bad babies?”
That alone terrifies them, the tiny fluffies can only sob in your shirt at the threats you give them, clinging against you, their faces hidden. Trembling under your hold, completely afraid of all the unknown dangers that you spoke of and just wanting to feel love again. You hold them close, going to a chair in the kitchen by the window to take a seat. So much fear in tiny little hearts. All they had was you to tell them of the things that they couldn’t see. All the unknowns that live beyond their shut eyes, and naturally they took everything to heart.
“Daddy will always protect his good babies. Daddy loves his babies. Babies will never fear or want for anything as long as they love daddy with all their heart.”
Your kisses upon their noses must be like mana from heaven, because they desperately tried to shove themselves against your lips. Little snouts pushing onto your face, their licks and hugs furious and demanding. So much love. Yes, they knew of nothing else. The memories of their mothers already fading from their minds. A foal must not be able to retain much in terms of what is loving them when they’re unable to see. Anything that takes care of them must naturally be assumed to be their mother and caregiver. It would be smart to expect that until they can see that really… the only things that they would retain is what they hear. The lessons that are given.
“Babies always poop in the litterbox. Never in the nest. Bad babies make a mess of their nest. Do you want to be bad babies?”
Oh, that dreadful word. Already, it made the alicorn sob in grief, he hugged his littermate and sobbed over it. Even the pegasus seemed to dislike hearing the word, his face scrunching up and little tears brimming in his eyes. You take them over to the litterbox, setting them down, “Little babies make good poopies and peepees here. Feel the sand.”
They don’t truly understand the concept, not at first. The pegasus seems to be the quick study of the two. He held his head up, lifted his tail and let out a soft fart as he defecated into the sand. Even peeing a little alongside of it, he seemed to be proud of what he done, because he let out a joyful peep as if to say, “Look, daddy. Baby did a good poopie.” or whatever. He really didn’t want to play it out per verbatim.
“Yes, my little one. You did it.”
The soft pet upon his forehead, he couldn’t resist giving you a little bunt of affection. The alicorn didn’t quite understand what was happening, but he smelled the foul odor of shit and piss. He had already defecated into the bed, but he did manage to urinate a little into the sand. He got an affectionate rub, your praises are a soothing balm to his wounded ego, there was nothing sticking to their rumps that needed addressing so really, they did pretty well. One thing that you did anticipate was that with the lack of lower legs, the pegasus will have more work ahead of him when it comes to using the restroom. Some had the idea of using litter trays under pillowfluffs 24/7, they would never make a mess and it’s always handy. Yet, you wanted more accessibility. Not to mention, training a foal to have better sphincter control is always recommended.
In the back of your mind, you’re already thinking of names for the pair. Just calling them “pegasus” and “alicorn” seemed too bothersome for you. Names for convenience, and as a reward. Something precious that they’ve earned. At the moment, your mind went to something easy. You took the pegasus first, holding him to your chest and whispering near his ear, “My little one, do you want a name?”
He couldn’t help hugging you, chirping softly into your shirt fabric, “You’re Lee. That’s your name.”
You took the alicorn to join his brother, the two snuggling together within your loving embrace. To let him know that he’s next for a name, you boop his nose. He let out a soft squeak, covering the nose with a hoof, “As for you. Noah. You are Noah. My two babies. Lee and Noah.”
Two short simple names, but they treasure them. Then again, they might just be happy that you’re holding them. Until you felt a warmth run down your hand, wet liquid running through your fingers as Noah starts relieving himself. Oh dear. So much for that moment of love and happiness. Calmly, you set Lee aside. Holding him within your hand, you sighed, “Remember what daddy said. Bad babies make bad peepees. And what did you do?”
His frantic chirping, the little hooves that flailed as you tightened your grip just hard enough for discomfort. Oh, he did a very bad thing. “What a bad baby you are.”
The word “bad” naturally made him squeal in anguish, he tries to hug your hand, but you flick his nose. Little droplets of blood fly out, he can only cower and sob. Lee is distressed, holding out his hooves to hug something. Oh, how can we punish him? His eyes aren’t open, yet, so the prospect of sorry boxing his ass didn’t sound appropriate enough. Certain things become clearer to think about, you didn’t want him to really associate you with the pain. Carrying him over to the sink, you turned the faucet on, running him through a small rinse to get him soaked. And then you set him down upon the cold porcelean. Already, he is beginning to gasp heavily in between loud cries of pain, one of the familiar hallmarks of shock from the cold. A reflexive reaction. It is a precarious position since they’re still in that fragile state of foalhood. Really, it would be too easy to just…
‘He’s not breathing…’
Fuck, you didn’t expect it to happen this quickly. You lift him up, Noah silently howls for air, you turn him around and start slapping his back gently. Little firm strikes with the two fingers of your hand. He lets out a loud cough, bits of water flying out. He takes a deep breath, and wails. Shaking, crying, curling up into a small ball, hiding himself in pain and fear. You just hold him close, staring over at the sink, sighing softly to yourself. Maybe, you got a little too enthusiastic in your punishment. Noah nearly died, and it was only day two of their arrival. Not to mention, you couldn’t help thinking that he was really getting the blunt of your attention. In a way, you thought that made him even with Lee in terms of how much they’ve went through to earn your love.
“There, there. Hush now, little Noah. Daddy still loves you.”
He whimpers as you console him, not really able to open back up, but he accepts your touch, his face nuzzling against your hand. Coughing heavily as little remnants of water still seemed to linger in his lungs. It’s always amazing how easily these things can die if they’re not properly cared for. Such fragility and weakness that it’s a miracle at all that they’ve not brought about their own extinction. Yet, they’re also prolific breeders and they find the act of making children along with birthing them to be a wonderful thing. In some ways, they mirror humanity quite well.
Noah looked up, his eyes starting to open a little, and he let out a soft cry, “Wub…”
They opened fully, he looked up at you, they are a beautiful pink. Rather nice looking with his purple fluff. He seems happier, lunging for your chest, finally able to see his daddy for the first time, hugging you with a big smile, “Daddeh! chirp Wub!”
Lee is crying, you take him over to his littermate and set Noah down by his side. Noah wastes no time in consoling his companion, “Wub! coo Bwuddah!”
The two hugged each other, and it seemed like Noah’s words got to him, he struggled to speak as well, whimpering out, “W-wub! peep Bwuddah!”
He opened his eyes, they are a little crossed for some reason, but he didn’t seem like he had anything else wrong with him. A rather deep amber, he looks up to you, and tries to raise both his hooves up for a hug. The first attempt resulting in him just falling on the ground since he can’t exactly keep his balance. So he turns to expressing it in words, “Daddeh! peep Huggies!”
As much as you should be enjoying this, the intellectual side of your brain was pondering over the fact that they’re grasping language rather quickly. Even being able to see relatively fast, although the speed of their development seems to have resulted in some problems with Lee developing minor esotropia in the left eye. Instead of holding him like he wanted, you leaned in to examine the eye more closely. He seems confused, his big amber eyes looking into yours, or trying to with the left one still failing to really fixate on you correctly.
He’s showing no signs of retardation, his language skills are relatively good despite the warning that you’re seeing. Even the eye is rather sturdy, it doesn’t do the derpy classic of wandering eye. Of course, this will hamper him in the long run.
“Daddeh? chirp Huggies!”
The little foal bounces up a little, trying to grasp your face with tiny hooves, but failing at it. So he opted for just touching your face, staring up at you with the cutest smile. Even Noah quickly joined in, the two asking for love from you. It’s hard to resist them, you just find it easier to give in just a little. Lifting them up in your hands, allowing them to hug you, hearing their soft chirps and coos of love. Lee seems to have more issues than what you’ve anticipated, but you thought about the fact that you wanted a dependent and extremely loving pet.
“Daddy loves his babies, and babies love their daddy.”
“Wub!”
“Wub! Daddeh!”
You walked over to the small pet bed, taking it with a free hand and moving back into the living room. It’s placed on the couch, and the pair of fluffies are laid upon that. Love is a twisted emotion that humans easily warps into something nightmarish and terrifying. It is easy to hurt something. To break them, and to shatter their hearts. Yet, true torture comes from love. It might seem weird, but you know it well. Without love, you are more willing to break something, and you focus more on the tactile aspects of torture. Cruelty, pain, and suffering. But these are superficial emotions, ones that can be overcome and endured. You look upon the sleeping pair for a moment, the twisted emotions in your chest still burning. A heart is a fragile thing. Tiny hearts that don’t recognize the cruelty of the world around them, that don’t protect themselves…
“Daddeh?”
Looking down at Lee, his face lifting up to stare at you, crawling over to your side over his sleeping companion and struggling to get out of the bed. After a few minutes, he grunted in annoyance, struggling to climb over, but his limbs having difficulty with pulling the rest of himself up and over. You carefully scoop him into your hand, allowing him to escape the confines of his nest and he let out an appreciative coo. He throws himself down into the palm of your hand, allowing his hooves to spread out, trying to hug the palm with a big grin, “Wub! Daddeh!”
“My little Lee. Can’t sleep?”
“peep Wan’ daddeh!”
You just stare down at him for a moment, letting out an exhausted sigh as you relent. He coos gently, curling up and shutting his eyes. Oh… he can’t sleep without you. Nuzzling his weary face against your pants with a pleasant smile on his face. It actually makes sense, they prefer to sleep with their family members so sleeping with one and another is expected. You glance back at Noah. He is more of the wild card out of the two. All the same, you still think that the uncertainty does give some spice in your life. Predictability can be boring. Chaos does breed a sort of entertainment factor into things. It doesn’t always work out, but it allows you to flex your more abusive and assertive side. After all, you did get the two of them for that duality. Of love and abuse. Naturally, one of them is going to need to play the bad son that needs to be punished all the time. Noah seems to be fitting into that niche.
Noah didn’t take long to notice that the bed was strangely empty, he slept through Lee walking over him, but the void brought coldness and he felt that easily. He didn’t open his eyes, just letting out a distressed chirp of discomfort, something that his parent would probably react much more immediately towards. Unfortunately for him, you’re not so quick to react due to just disliking his persistant nature. The way he demands for immediate comfort and attention, it rubs you the wrong way so you just slip some headphones on and play your music while he suffers. Lee groans in some annoyance from his brother, rolling over and mumbling something you ignore.
“Cowd! peep Daddeh!”
He crawls out of his bed, trying to move towards you, he has an easier time and makes it out of the bed. Noah takes a little time to reach you, but he tries to nuzzle against your side and get your attention. Too tired to really open his eyes, he keeps chirping for you, but the music does well to block him out. Frustrated, he tries to climb on you, but his hooves make terrible instruments to climb even fabric. Sliding down, he starts sobbing, curling in on himself, peeping softly as he is ignored and neglected. Just left to lay next to you, curled up and shivering while his brother gets to bask in the warmth of your company. Tears brimming his eyes, he whimpers for him to rejoin the pile, but Lee doesn’t listen. No one is listening. And he falls asleep with the weight of that loneliness gripping his tiny heart, hooves covering his eyes and in pain from the lack of love.
Chapter 1
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5 (Bad End)
Chapter 5B (Alternative Path)