Bad news first, I’m cutting off Obliteration, the idea was decent but I lost the thread in The Great Burnout Of 23 so I’ve decided to leave that story unfinished.
Good news, I’ve repurposed some of the ideas into a new story for Tara to help her with some therapeutic healing, because God fucking knows the Mongolas need therapy.
Like Obliteration, this takes place after Annihilation so I do recommend you read that first to get a sense of Tara’s headspace. Some elements at the start of this story will be similar but consider this a retcon towards the true timeline.
This story was stolen… I mean inspired by @Jejjick’s Bumble artwork
“MUMMAH! MUMMAH, NU WAN GU, WAN STAY WIV MUMMAH!”
“Coco, stop… stop wriggling, you’re scaring the babies.”
“BU COCO WAN STAY, WAN MUMMAH, WAI MUMMAH NU WUB COCO AN BABBEHS NU MOWE?!”
‘PEEP PEEP!’
‘CHIRP PEEP!’
“I’m sorry Coco, you won’t understand, but your mother’s doing this for your own good.”
“NU, PWEASE NU TAKE COCO WAY FWOM MUMMAH! MUMMAH! MUMMA….”
Tara Mongola woke in a cold sweat, for half a second the silence of the room around her made her heart skip a beat, but then she remembered the nightmare, and the reason for the silence.
It had been 3 months since Tara had given up Coco and her foals, surrendered them to the proper authorities who could give Coco to a home that would love her. Tara knew it was for the best, knew that Coco and her babies were in a caring, safe environment now, but she still felt her stomach lurch whenever she thought about how close she came to ruining it all.
It all started when Belle died, Tara had been so focussed on helping Coco deliver her foals that she forgot to check on her prisoner in the basement. When she finally found her, Tara didn’t know if Belle had chocked on her feeding mask, gotten an infection from being tied to a post for three years straight or if her heart had finally given out after watching hundreds of her children starve to death in front of her, but what she did know what that Belle was dead and Tara had lost her outlet for abuse.
She didn’t want to be an abuser, but every time Coco would whine or cry or shout about sketti or playing or babies, Tara would hear Josef chuckling in her ear, telling her that she was a Mongola, and that hereditary Mongola Madness would claim her too. It had taken both Josef and her Uncle Fitz, claimed both their lives, and had ruined her cousin Jonathan’s life as well, that toxic rage that took over your every feeling, made you want to hate everything around you and fucking annihilate it.
Belle had saved Coco from seeing that side, but without that buffer Tara felt the dark urge building with every tiny infraction, every ear-piercing cry from their infantile mouths, every watery shit they spurted out of their miniature bodies, unable to see the litterbox let alone move towards it. Tara was so badly looking for an excuse to hurt them but self-aware enough to know she couldn’t and it was tearing her apart.
She made it two days before she was fantasising about skewering the foals on a kebab stick and barbecuing them alive before she finally made the decision to give Coco up and let her raise her children in a safe environment. It was the right choice for everyone, but that didn’t stop the silence from hurting her every night she woke up.
Tara looked at her beside clock, not even 4am yet. She had taken a sabbatical from work so she didn’t have to worry about waking up in time, but that didn’t mean she wanted to fuck up her sleeping pattern, not that there was anything she could do to salvage it now. Annoyed with herself, Tara lay her head down and tried to find some form of rest that wouldn’t ruin her in the morning, but as much as she scrunched her eyes shut and tried to drown it out, the silence was too noisy to let her sleep peacefully.
She would have to make a call in the morning.
“You need therapy.”
Tara rolled her eyes at the man on the other end, Theodore ‘Ted’ Hudson was someone she’d met through her cousin Jonathan, they never specified how they met but given Ted’s previous life as a solider and Jonathan’s brief spell as a mad bomber, she could guess what brought them together. Even still, they’d kept in touch over the years, Ted had gotten his Fluffy Robin not long before Tara’s garden was invaded by Khan and his herd so he understood what losing Orchid and her foals meant to Tara.
He also understood trauma better than anyone else in her family, despite trauma seemingly being a family business for her.
“I’m not going to therapy Ted, not for a fucking Fluffy.”
“That’s your problem Tara, you’re compartmentalising Fluffies as unimportant when in fact, they are very important since you’ve had such an adverse reaction to them.”
“Wow, why should I pay for a therapist when I have you?”
“I can hear your eye rolling Tara.”
“Really? No shit.”
The two friends shared a small laugh, it felt nice for Tara to be this relaxed, but she knew it wouldn’t last forever.
“Seriously though Ted, I do need something to get Coco off my mind, just so I can get a good night’s rest.”
Ted was silent for a few seconds before he spoke. “You’re still on sabbatical, right?”
“For another couple of months, then I can either return to the office or ease myself back in by working from home. Why?”
“I have an idea, but it’s an unorthodox one, potentially harmful if it doesn’t work out.”
“I’m willing to try anything here Ted, what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking of getting you a Fluffy.”
Tara stood slack-jawed for several seconds, her brain trying to process exact what Ted had just said and if it was as batshit as it sounded.
“Ted? Have you been listening to me at all during these calls?”
Over the phone, Tara heard Ted give a small chuckle. “I have, but there’s method in my madness. My cousin Anthony works an adoption agency specialising in disabled Fluffies, both physically and mentally, he tries to help them work with their disability and then looks for a home for them. It’s a long, slow process which requires background checks and medical check up to ensure the Fluffy goes to a good home and stays there but it’s rewarding work. Anyway, Anthony’s got one Fluffy who he’s been having trouble finding a home for, I was supposed to take him but since Jonathan stopped by… well let’s just say I’m gonna need a few weeks to clean the place up before I can take him in, especially with his disability.”
“Why, what’s wrong with him?”
“You ever heard of Sensitive Baby Syndrome?”
Tara couldn’t stop the ground from leaving her lips even if she wanted to. “Seriously Ted? I’m on the verge of a mental fucking breakdown because my brain won’t differentiate between a baby accidents and Fluffies being selfish, and you want to give me an even dumber Fluffy? A Fluffy so retarded that the retards call it retarded? What possible good could that do me?”
“Trust me, I think this could be what you need, and if it’s not, you’ll only have him for a few weeks, a month tops, so long as you keep him alive in that time then I’ll take him off your hands once I’m finished cleaning up Jonathan’s mess.”
Tara really didn’t want to take in another Fluffy so soon after Coco, especially not a SBS Fluffy, but she did need something to distract her and it was only for a short time so against her better judgement, she agreed to it.
“Fine, I’ll take him, just for the short term mind. Then he’s your problem.”
“Excellent, you’re being as big help Tara, thank you.”
“I wouldn’t thank me yet, not while there’s still the chance of killing him on the table. So what else can you tell me about the little shit, he got a name yet?”
Tara could practically hear the smile on Ted’s face when he answered her. “Hopper, his name is Hopper.”
It was a couple of days later when Anthony arrived, although to Tara’s surprise – and a little bit of disgust – he didn’t arrive with a carrier box or a cage or anything like that, he strolled up to her house carrying a fucking bassinet.
“Please tell me you’re fucking joking.”
“Shh, nu say bad wowdies neaw big babbeh.”
Tara leaned over to see a yellow Pegasus mare with a black mane waddling up behind Anthony with a rucksack on her back. She looked up at tara with a cross expression in her eyes but even still, Tara could see slight wrinkles around the mares face, this was a well-loved and well-looked after Fluffy.
“Easy Bumble, Miss Tara’s doing a nice thing for us, let’s all be friends now, ok?”
“Ok daddeh.”
“Good girl, and to answer your question Tara, no, I am not joking. Cages and carriers tend to rock too much for SBS Fluffies, a regular Fluffy can be delicate at the best of times but a Sensitive Baby Fluffy is all that times ten at least. You really need to be careful with these guys.”
“Did Ted tell you about my fucked up head? Not exactly in the best place to be looking after myself, let alone Fluffy retards.”
“Bumbeh nu wike meanie wowdies.” The yellow mare grumbled under her breath.
Anthony smiled in a casual manner. “He told me, but I trust Ted’s judgement, if he believes you’re the right person for the job then I won’t question him. Besides, sometimes in order to look after ourselves we have to look after others.”
Tara scoffed at him, but said nothing. Instead she leaned in closer to the bassinet to see what kind of monstrosity she would be looking after for the next few weeks. The first thing that struck her about the Fluffy laying down on cotton fucking sheets and swaddled like a goddamn infant was how big he was, in both size and girth. It was easily one of the fattest Fluffies Tara had ever seen, although strangely the Fluffy didn’t look unhealthy, his belly was rotund and protruding, his legs thick and blubbery and his face round like a fucking cherub but it sort of balanced itself out in an odd way.
Even without the extra fat though, Tara could tell from size alone that this was a fully grown adult Fluffy, a full year old at least, likely more. To see one coddled like this was strange, her own Fluffies Chip and Orchid could be childish and liked to be pampered, but not to this degree.
The Fluffy wasn’t anything to write home about looks wise, a soft pastel like yellow coat with a lime green mane, seemed to be an Earthie from what she could see. What did stand out was the Fluffy’s face, from behind the chubby hoof suckling in its fat face, Tara could see tears in the Fluffy’s eyes, both freshly wept and old stains, he had been crying and for quite some time at that.
“What’s with the crying?” She asked Anthony, pointing at his sleeping face, still shivering with sorrow.
“Did Ted explain why we named him Hopper?”
Tara shook her head, wondering where this was going?
“When Hopper’s owner brought him to us, trying to figure out why he wasn’t talking or eating solid foods yet, she told us that he would often have a nervous breakdown and freak out and the only thing that would calm him down was this old stuffed rabbit toy named Velvet that used to belong to Hopper’s mother. He went everywhere Velvet it was the only thing that kept him centred and grounded, aside from his inability to talk he seemed fairly normal when he had the toy. About a month or two ago, we had one of the teachers from the local school, Mrs Hopkins, take Hopper in as a class pet, something to show the kids the hardships of looking after a living being and the empathetic nature that’s required to care for something other than yourself.”
“I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”
Anthony sadly shook his head. “No, the moment the kids realised Hopper was… special, they pounced on him. Figuratively but perhaps literally as well, they spent their entire lunch break prodding and pulling and pinching bits of him, there are still bruises healing from the torment. When he crapped himself from the fear of being, in his mind, assaulted, they laughed at him and prodded him even harder, eventually Hopper tried to grab onto Velvet for comfort, and as soon as he did, the little brats ripped it away from him, then they started fighting over it, three or four of them all pulling Velvet in different directions, all while Hopper was forced to watch. It didn’t take much for Velvet to rip, he was old and fraying, but under Hopper’s gentle care he could’ve lasted months more, years maybe. Instead, those kids tore Velvet to ribbons then dumped the pieces onto the floor and trampled all over them as they ran outside because they were bored torturing him. Mrs Hopkins didn’t come back until near the end of lunch, Hopper spent close to an hour trying to reach out of his cage towards Velvet on the floor.”
Tara felt an unfamiliar pang in her chest at hearing Hopper’s story, but she quickly shook it off.
“So why not just get him another Rabbit? I doubt it’d be difficult, little spaz probably wouldn’t even know the difference.”
“You forget Tara, that Rabbit belonged to Hopper’s mother first, yeah it be easy to find a toy that looked the same, or at least very similar, but it’s impossible to get one with her scent. And before you say anything, she’s gone now, she was an old Fluffy which we think might be the reason for Hopper’s SBS, but any chance of getting her scent onto a new toy is out the window. Velver was one of a kind, and Hopper hasn’t been the same since.”
Tara looked down at Hopper in his bassinet, at first glance he looked almost peaceful, but looking closer and knowing what had happened to him Tara could see the pained, restless sleep he was suffering from. Did Fluffies even have nightmares? She’d never seen one, usually Fluffy trauma was negated by whatever shiny object distracted them first, but Hopper seemed genuinely troubled but what he’d been through.
In a strange way, she felt a slight kinship to him. A VERY slight kinship.
“Is there anything I need to know about looking after him?” She spoke softly, as though trying to hide a brief moment of care for Hopper.
“He’s much the same as a normal Fluffy, just with less talking, he’ll still chirp at you but it’ll be up to you to figure out what those chirps mean. Thankfully he will understand you a little bit so that should make it easier but don’t expect long conversations with him. His diet is… well as you can it’s not the best but SBS Fluffies are difficult, because they never get that chemical change in their brain to hit puberty, their teeth don’t grow in properly, they remain soft milk-teeth for all their life, which means they’re very limited on what they can eat, if they can eat at all. Most SBS Fluffies will subside on nothing but milk which, as you can see, is far too fattening for their own good.”
“I mean I wasn’t going to say anything but he is a fat wee shit isn’t he?”
“Meanie wady nu be meanies.” Bumbe grumbled behind Tara.
“That is unfortunately true.” Anthony conceded. “But we are working on that, we’ve started mixing low-fat milk with kibble to help lower his fat intake but still provide him with nutrients, it’s not perfect but it’s been doing some good work. Keep in mind that his teeth are basically pillowcases in his mouth, so when you mix the kibble, don’t be stingy with the milk, get it as soft and mushy as you can then get it even softer. If you can as well, try to exercise him as well, not heavy exercise, just a few spots of running and jumping around the house, every little helps when it comes to his health. Lastly is entertainment, like any Fluffy he’s content to play with toys or watch TV, just keep it to foal levels of suitability, however you need to stay in the room with him at all times. Separation anxiety is lethal for SBS Fluffies and they have severe panic attacks if they notice you aren’t in the room. If you have to leave for any reason, take him with you and just place him on the floor within sight of you. He won’t mind you interrupting anything, he’ll just be happy you’re there.”
“Even if I’m taking a shit?”
“Yep, in fact I’d put a litterbox in your bathroom just in case he tries to copy your movements.”
Tara’s groan portrayed her intense dislike of that whole idea. “Well what if he gets… ‘urges’, how should I deal with that or does his puberty block mean my slippers are safe from getting creampied?”
Anthony let out a short chortle. “No, no, your slippers are safe. SBS Foals don’t get sexual attraction, hell I think they’re all sterile since they’re sex organs never fully develop. They still feel love and affection and will happily play with foals without fear of wanting any of their own. Just try to teach him to be safe since he’s so much bigger and stronger than regular foals.”
“Is that everything?”
“Everything I can think of. If you have anymore questions, either call me or there’s a pamphlet in Bumble’s backpack that should have answers to some immediate questions if you need it.”
Anthony reached down and took the backpack off Bumble and handed it to Tara, she peeked inside and saw some small bags of kibble, a couple bottles of pre-made milk, a pacifier and a couple fresh nappies.
“Nappies? Seriously?”
“Trust me, a nearly liquid diet makes good poopies hard to maintain, the nappies will come in handy.”
“For fuck’s sa… you tell Ted that he picks this little shit up the SECOND he’s able to.”
Much to Tara’s annoyance, Anthony chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll pass on the message. But don’t worry, the two of you will be fine.”
Tara let out a low grumble of annoyance before taking the bassinet from Anthony’s hands - a little more forcefully than she had intended to – and stormed back inside. Anthony turned to leave and Bumble rushed to join him, an uneasy look on her face.
“Daddeh, wai weave Hoppah wiv meanie wady?”
“Are you scared for him?”
“Nu fink meanie wady am gud fow big babbeh Hoppah.”
“I know it seems that way, but remember what Uncle Ted told us, the next little while is going to be painful for both Hopper and Tara, but they’ll both come out the other side better for having gone through it. I didn’t believe Ted until I saw Tara but I think he’s right, I think they’re both exactly where they need to be right now.
Tara took the bassinet inside and closed the door, she took one scornful look at the fat piece of shit laying there, all bundled up like a little fucking baby. It just made her want to wring his fucking….
No. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, she couldn’t hurt him, he was for Ted. She could survive a few days, couldn’t she? Not wanting to think too hard on it, Tara tossed the bassinet carelessly onto the nearby table…
‘PEEEEPPPP!! CHIRP PEEP PEEP!’
…And immediately set the little spaz off on a crying fit.
“For fuck sake, you’re just in the fucking door.”
‘PEEP CHIRP CHIRP!’
Hopper’s tubby body jiggled as he waved his stubby little hoofs aimlessly in the air, his eyes scrunched tight with fresh tears dribbling down his cheeks and the distinct smell of piss slowly but surely getting stronger.
Tara glanced down at the bright yellow stain on the front of Hopper’s nappy as he grew bigger and brighter, and all she could think of was ripping the pathetic fucking thing off his fat tard body and shoving his fucking double chin into the piss until he stopped breat….
Another deep breath, not that it did any good with the screeching going on beside her, and Tara half-heartedly opened up the backpack looking for something to calm the mongoloid down.
“Fuck, let’s see… we got mummah songs on CD, who the fuck owns a CD player anymore? You like that, mummah loves retard, retard loves mummah.”
‘Peep, chirp chirp!’
“No dice huh? Um, there’s some toys in here, you want a toy?”
‘PEEPPEEPPEEPPEEP!!!’
“Fuck, Jesus, ok. No toys, didn’t realise that was a trigger. Christ what else is in here… you hungry lardass, got some milk here for ya.”
‘PEE… chirp?’
Tara scoffed at Hopper’s sudden interest. “Comfort food, should’ve fucking guessed. But if it shuts you up…”
Luckily Anthony had provided a small thermos of milk so Tara didn’t need to warm the first batch up, she poured the contents into a bottle and lay it on Hopper’s stomach.
“There, enjoy.” The disinterest in her voice was so thick it gave Hopper’s girth a ruin for its money.
Tara made to turn away only to be stopped by the retarded flails of a fat idiot. Hopper’s hoofs couldn’t bend far enough to reach the bottle, and his body was so round that every time he turned to have the bottle roll towards his mouth, it would overshoot and spin over the other side of his body. Each time he would get a whiff of delicious, warm milk, but never a taste.
Yet more tears started to well in his eyes as the cruel hands of fate denied him salvation once again.
“You gotta be fucking kidding.”
Reluctantly, Tara lifted Hopper out of his bassinet, and being careful not to touch his piss-stained nappy, cradled him in her arm as she put the bottle to his mouth. There was a tentative sniff as Hopper pushed his head forward, waiting for the milk to disappear again, but when he got close enough to have a little bit dribble onto his nose, he let out a happy chirp and started suckling.
Tara quickly found a chair and sat down, Hopper was a hefty boy and holding him up was a strain she wasn’t expecting. With nothing else to do she lay back and let Hopper drink away, little streams of excess milk ran down his chubby cheeks as he drank faster and faster, seemingly desperate for the stuff.
Once again, the thoughts of thrusting the bottle down his gullet and choking him tickled in her brain, she ignored it but the fact that she’d thought of it at all was starting to get at her.
“What the fuck am I doing with you?” Tara let out an exasperated sigh and leaned back in her chair. “I can’t do this, I can’t look after a retarded Fluffy. Not with my head still so fucked up like this. I gotta call Ted, tell him I’m not up to this, tell him to take your sorry ass back before I throw you against the fucking…”
‘Coo.’
Tara turned and looked down at Hopper, he had finished drinking his milk and had now turned his body so that he was facing Tara and had his hoofs stretched out in a feeble attempt to cuddle into her.
‘Coo, coo.’ He fluttered softly at her, one of his fat hoofs stroking her shirt. Tara felt the familiar feeling of anger starting to bubble up inside her, but oddly this one didn’t manifest itself into thoughts of violence and torture, instead is just softly faded away into indifference.
“Fine. You stay one night. Then we’ll see.”
Tara couldn’t tell for sure, but she swore she saw a smile on Hopper’s face as he snuggled in tighter to her. And despite her best efforts, Tara felt the corner of her mouth twitch a little as well.
My attempts to avoid multi-chapter stories is kinda sullied by my inability to write small stories. I will try to focus on this for the time being and not start anything new. I’ve at least got more of this planned out than I did for Obliteration so with any luck we will see Tara’s story grow.
Fair warning, it’s gonna get worse before it gets better.