Mary on a cross + Twig's Story WIP (Federalchemical1728)

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fivel

The Filliad and The Fodyssey (cont. of Twig's story) PREVIEW

Anything and everything written is subject to change, removal, rearrangement, elaboration, lore bloating, diarrhea (of the mouth), and general quality control. It’s a real slapdash mess of disjointed prose is what it is.


You walked more in the last couple days than you’ve walked in your whole life, all four-and-a-half weeks of it, and your widdle babbeh weggies were feeling it.

As you got bigger your mummah would carry you less and less. Sometimes you thought about just parking yourself on the ground when you didn’t want to walk anymore, but your mummah would chide, “Wemembah, babbeh nee’ wots ob walkies fo’ hab stwong weggies. Twig wan be stwong wike big f-fwen Zee-noh, wight?” And you’d huff and you’d puff and you’d push even harder until you caught up.

It wasn’t all bad though. Sometimes you got to walk with Fivel. He was bigger than you so he almost always had his hooves on the ground. Sometimes you’d play huggie-tag without the huggies, just to make the walk go faster. Sometimes you’d play “fwuffy-spy,” or see if either of you was strong enough for pigsy-backsies. You weren’t, but it made the long trek a little more bearable.

Sometimes you’d watch him from your mummah’s back, exhausted, as he limped along behind you. And yet, he never complained. Not even a peep. You couldn’t fathom how he did it. You suspect he might’ve been trying to impress you. Every time he looked ready to call it quits his eyes would dart up to you and then back to the ground, and he’d take a deep breath and puff out his cheeks and soldier on.

But sometimes his body just couldn’t take it anymore and he’d… fall. He was a fluffy, after all. His breath would be so short and his throat would be so dry that he couldn’t even make peepies. So you’d use what little energy you had left to alert the group, going as far as to bite your mummah’s ears when she wouldn’t listen to you. She almost bucked you off a few times.

Fivel was too big and his mummah was too old, so Xeno would pick up the limp little colt in his mouth and carry him that way. You were always a little jealous, but only a little. You’re pretty sure Fivel never saw how Xeno ate Bestesh. One chomp, one gulp. Didn’t even chew.

You decided to keep that information to yourself.


She’d managed to avoid it until now, but after two days of balancing Mary on his back and being agonizingly careful as she climbed off and on for potty breaks, having complaints made directly (and loudly) into his ear, and having a permanent front-row seat to her incessant babbeh-obsessed chatter, Xeno decided enough was enough. She may have been terminally pregnant, but at the end of the day she needed to give something back.

After yet another night of cleaning up Mary’s messes, Xeno stated in no uncertain terms, “Mummah Mawy gib wicky-cweanies back tu Wiwwow naow.”

And, of course, she protested, “Nu! Mummah nu gib poopie fwuffy wicky cweanies!”

Xeno growled, “Mummah Mawy be powite an’ gif wickies back, ow no nummies.”

Her eyes went wide as saucers, “Buh-buh mummah nee’ nummies fo’ make bestest miwkies! Fo’ bestest babbehs!”

Xeno narrowed his eyes at the immobilized mare.

she babbled & cried

His shoulders slumped and Xeno sighed, “Jus’ dis once. It am wate, fwuffies am tiwed. Buh caww Wiwwow ‘poopie’ ‘gain an’ yu babbehs am Xee-no’s nummies. Unnastand?”

Mary had the gall to look offended before she looked scared.

“Un-duh-stand?”

The inconsiderate mare undid Willow’s twenty minutes of hard work in an instant.

Willow sighed and stepped forward, but Xeno stopped her, “Nu. If fwuffy nu gif wicky-cweanies, fwuffy nu get wicky-cweanies. Am onwy faiw.”

Mary looked ready to argue, but Sandy cut in, “Yes! Perfectwy faiw.” Her face was looking at Mary, but her eyes were looking at Willow. Your mummah was looking up at Xeno in wonder.

Fivel piped up, “Nu wan sleepies wif dummeh soon-mummah poopie smeww!”

Mary puffed her cheeks in indignation, it wasn’t her fault! She was a soon-mummah! Everyone was supposed to be nice to her and forgive her for bad poopies and pee-pees! What a little brat! Xeno then completely ignored her and turned his attention to said brat, “Yu nu hab tu. Xee-no wiww stay wif Mawy. Mummahs an’ babbehs find cwean nestie fow tu-nite. Re-gwoup in da mowning.”

Mary screamed, “NUU!!! NU WEAVE MAWY AWONE WIF MONSTAH! HEWP! HEWP!!!” She begged the other mummahs, but the other mummahs were already walking away. From your mummah’s back, you watched Mary flail her useless little legs as she was smothered in blue fluff.

You tapped your mummah’s shoulder with your tiny hoofsie, “Mummah? Twig wan stay wif Zee-noh an’ Mawy.”

She didn’t even turn to look at you, “Nu, babbeh. Mawy am dangewous fo’ poopie babbeh.”

“Twig nu am poopie babbeh. Zee-noh say am bwown.”

“Same fing, babbeh. Mummah nu wet meanie Mawy huwt 'ou.”

“Mummah siwwy, bigges’ fwen Zee-noh nu wet babbeh hab huwties.”

Your mother stopped for a moment, letting Sandy and Fivel walk ahead, “Wiwwow know, babbeh. Buh babbeh nee’ stay wif mummah fo’ sweepies. Pwease.”

That night you pretended you were going to go make good poopies, but you crept over to where Mary and Xeno were sleeping. Only they weren’t actually sleeping. Xeno was holding Mary down and whispering to her. She was crying.

“HEWP! DADDEH HEEEWP!!!”

You crept closer and strained your little ears.

“DUMMEH MAWE!” He hissed, “Quiet! Yu wan bad hoomans tu find yu babbehs? Mawy say hab hooman daddeh once, whewe am yu mannews? Wai daddeh nu teach yu be nice?”

“What am “mannews?” Soun’ stoopie! Mawy am nice! An’ pwetty an’ gud! 'Ou am stoopie ugwy meanie munstah! Wan Daddeh! DADDEH SABE MAWY!!!”

“Daddeh nu cum sabe bad fwuffy mummah. Nu one wike dummeh meanie mummahs dat gif huwties tu babbehs.”

“NU!! Dummeh munstah wrong!! Am gud mummah! Daddeh sabe Mawy an’ bestest babbehs! Dummeh munstah wet gu!! WET GUUUU!!!”

“SHADDAP!!! Whewe soon-mummah gunna gu, huh?” Xeno snapped, “If Xee-noh am jus’ dummeh meanie munstah den why am yu eben hewe? Yu weggies nu work, an’ nu hab wolly-fwends tu hewp yu. Yu caww fwiends “ugwy poopies,” nu gif wicky-cweanies aftew get wicky-cweanies, nu hewp find nummies, and gif gud babbeh bad hoofsie. YU am dummeh bad fwuffy.”

“SCREEEEEE!!! NUUU!!! AM GUD FWUFFY! AM GUD FWUFFYYYYY!! SCREEE! DADDEH! DADEEEEEH!!!”

A flock of nearby birdies went flying.

Xeno firmly pressed the mare’s mouth shut, and she made more bad poopies all over herself. Xeno waited until she stopped thrashing, when he had her rapt attention, and her eyes bugged out like ping pong balls. He spoke in a low, sinister growl that left no room for argument, “Bad fwuffy awways fink dey gud, dummeh fwuffy awways fink dey smawtest, meanie fwuffy awways fink dey bestest. Gud fwuffy nu say dey gud fwuffy, dey act wike gud fwuffy.”

His voice went softer, sadder, “Mawy can be gud fwuffy, Xee-no know.”

He suddenly looked ancient and decrepit and tired. You saw the boo-boo juice all around his nose and the right side of his face turning purple and puffy. There were tears in his eyes.

“A gud fwuffy awways gif wuv tu fwuffies dey fink awe ugwy ow monstuh ow poopie. Nu jus’ fwuffies dey fink awe pwetty. Ugwy fwuffy can be gud fwuffy, jus’ wike pwetty fwuffy can be bad fwuffy. What mattuh am dewe heawt, nu da way dey wook,” he gently released the frozen mare, and when she remained silent he added, “It am hawd work, buh evewy fwuffy can be a gud fwuffy.”

The pair of them looked exhausted, sagging, stewing in the meaning behind the noble monster’s words. Mary’s voice came as a miserable whisper,

“Mawy am bad fwuffy?”

Xeno closed his eyes and sighed, wrapping himself around Mary and her bad poopies, heavy head bumping hers, “Fo’ now,” He yawned. “Yu can twy tu be a bettah fwuffy tu-mowwow. Stawt wif sayin’ sowwy, Xee-no wiww hewp yu fwom dewe.” Then the pair settled down to sleep.

“Twig?”

You jumped a foot in the air. You had been gone for too long and your mummah had come looking for you, “Am nu nice tu spy on oddahs, back tu beddie-bye.”

Caught red-hoofsied.

“Yes, mummah,” and with one long look back, you hurried after her.


You were sleeping, warm and dry and cozy in your fluff pile, when a wave of hot fluid washed over you. You were too stunned to move, but you heard Fivel squeal, “Ewww! Dummeh Mawy make bad pee-pees in nestie!”

“Nuuu! Mawy sowwy! Nu mean tu make bad– bah– BIGGES’ POOPIES!!!”

Now everyone was awake.

Your world tumbled as Xeno shot to his feet. There was goop in your eyes and everything around you was so big and it was all moving and you couldn’t see any of it. You peeped frantically for your mother, afraid to move lest you end up trampled.

“peep! peep! Mummah! Scawy! peep! Nu can see! peep! Hewp! Mummah!! pee– EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”

You screamed and flailed as a large mouth grabbed you around the middle and carried you away. You’re pretty sure you were squirting scaredy-poopies everywhere, but that felt like the least of your problems. You were deposited someplace out of the way and told to stay put. When you finally rubbed your eyes clean, the whole sordid scene came into view.


Mary could hardly turn around to see her babies, but when she did her blood turned to ice. They were brown. All of them. All that time, all that effort, running away from her nice daddeh and his warm housie, following the pretty blue Smarty, letting him have his good feels time and time again, all the while he had his own special friend with her own tummy-babies. There wasn’t room for Mary in their little love nest. There was never going to be any room. She had always distantly hoped that Smarty would leave his special friend, maybe even give her forever sleepies, and come be with Mary. He’d have to when she gave him better babies than Peaches ever could. But then he died. And Mary left.

All of that time, all of that pain, all of that heartache for three ugly brown runts.

Mary cried her anguish to the heavens.

Willow scooped up a little brown bundle in her arms. It was a tiny pointy colt. He looked just like Branch, except with his daddy’s horn. Your mother choked back tears. She knew he wasn’t hers. This wasn’t her lost baby. Still, she looked like she was debating whether or not to give him back. She could just keep him. She could just keep all of them and give them all the love she never got to give to her own babies.

But instead she held Mary’s baby out to her, and forced his shell shocked mother to look into his chubby little face, “Wook at dem, dey’s jus’ widdle babbehs. Dey nee’ mummah’s wub,” something caught in her throat, “Dey… Dey nee’ dewe mummah. Babbehs wub mummah,” She placed the little colt gently on his mother’s chest, powering through when Mary tried to shrink away.

Chirp! Chrrr~ Coo…~

Mary shivered and refused to touch the foal, even as he snuggled happily into her fluff. All the while, her other two babies had crawled over to their mummah and were clumsily sniffing around for her milky-places. She flinched when the bigger one caught a nipple and started suckling, and again when his little sister followed suit. Then she stopped breathing entirely. They were kneading her with their soft little hoofsies. There was a moment where Mary’s face crumpled up before she started crying,

“BA–HA–HAH–AAAAABBEHS!! WAAAAAAAH!!! MUMMAH SU SOWWY BABBEEEEEHS! MUMMAH WUH–HUH–UB 'OUUU!!! HUUU HUUUUUU! Mummah sowwy babbehs, mummah wub 'ou su mush! huuuuu huu huu!”

She wrapped her leggies around the baby on her chest. Her outburst scared him and he was making distressed little chirps, but Mary was right there to comfort him, “Mummah hewe, babbehs. Mummah sowwy fo’ nu wub babbehs, buh mummah wub ‘ou nao, otay? sniffle Mum-mah wub baaabbehs, babbehs hic wub mummaaaah~ Dwink aww da miiiiw-kies, gw–gwow big an’ stwong~ huuuu huu”

bullet point list of ideas for those who would grace me w their 2 cents
  • Bad Fluffies show up (maybe a herd? a lone smarty? a runaway?) a lone smarty smells 3 mares & a weird semi-fluffy monster thing, thinks he can sway the mares away from Xeno bc he’s ugly and scary & the smarty is soooo great and soooo smart and has suuuuuuch a big wiener. they all hate him & he either sulks away with his tail between his legs OR gets his skull caved in. (or something more interesting could happen? xeno could bite off his no-nos & he follows them around swearing revenge. he could get “reformed” and tag along with them only for Dr. Heely to cull him when he presents Smarty Behavior)

  • maybe they run into Captain? or some other characters from The Chemical Cinematic Universe: Riley, Druxson, Buxtol, Red Rocket, Rabit/Alvin (before Snowy is even born), etc.

  • Mary’s legs hurt & she kicks Twig

  • Mary can no longer walk, has to ride on Xeno’s back

  • stop for the night & Mary gets licky-cleanies from Willow (Xeno gives Mary a stern talking-to) Twig eavesdrops

  • Mary goes into labor, Sandy doesn’t help, Willow plays midwife, Xeno is panicky & out of his depth, Fivel keeps Twig away from the action. Xeno licks the babies clean as they come out (and insists that Mary eat the placenta. it’ll give her babies the bestest milkies for their first few minutes of life. if she doesn’t eat them, he will lol)

  • all of Mary’s babies are poopy, Willow is the one to comfort her (holds them up to Mary’s chest & they snuggle into her fluff “wook at dem, dey jus’ widdle babbehs. dey wub mummah, nee’ mummah’s wub tuu.”) One of the babies looks just like Branch & both Willow and Twig cry about it.

  • Sandy doesn’t trust Mary around her own babies.

  • Mary tries to leave everyone behind & score herself a new daddeh, gets a kick in the head for her trouble (maybe gets a dog set on her or some potshots with a beebee gun? sprayed with a hose? super-soaker?)

  • maybe she ends up thinking too much & falls into a postpartum depression

  • a bratty runaway shows up & demands licky-cleanies from Twig & Willow (Mary gets to see an awful reflection of her previous self & sticks up for Willow) maybe it’s even a mummah with a bestest babbeh (and a couple of dead/dying poopie babbehs) & Xeno scares her away

  • i cant decide if i want Mary to have a redemption arc or if i want her to die. maybe both? she could get picked up by a bad human or even taken to a shelter & returned to her old daddeh idk maybe without her babies so its not entirely a happy ending for her

  • idk what to do with Sandy, maybe she dies on the way while protecting everyone (could be protecting Mary to show Sandy’s own growth)

  • i want Fivel to discover a love of raising babies on the way & he becomes a nurse for Dr. Heely & gets chonky lol

  • Willow starts craving meat bc of the xenobabbeh

((The rest of the fanart is gonna take longer to edit than I expected, plus I’ve got a busy day today so I wanted to drop these here real quick. Life is kinda just one big, long kick in the balls rn okey gotta go bye :heart:))

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Sounds like 2022.

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Stinky is a great fluffy name.

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hdjdjjdjdbbdjd looks like ive got a new project

I love the vein detailing on the first one. At least she was a good mummah.