This is a commission for @Milly654 who wanted a Good Ending for Poopie Dreams
Loretta belongs to @UndercoverPallasCat
Life was cruel, and cold, and unfair. Any other fluffy would say babbehs were for huggies and love, but not you. You were for numming poopies and getting the worstest hurties. Your mummah told you so, and your bestest siblings learned that too.
Most of your days were spent in the poopie pile, forced to watch them run, and play, and drink Mummah’s precious milkies. Occasionally one of them would come over to give you more poopies. Other times they came to give you hurties. You never really understood why they did it, other than it was because you were Poopie. They never gave the other poopie piles hurties. Just you.
You learned it was best to just stay out of sight. Everyone seemed to treat you better when they forgot you were there.
Today you stayed tucked under your newspaper nest, all crusty and foul from the weeks worth of fecal matter and other putrid fluids that had dried and caked onto the material. Your body aches from the bruises littered all over you after your sibling’s most ‘affectionate’ beatings yesterday. You listen to your siblings singing and laughing with your Mummah just a couple of feet away.
Their joyous playtime stops as you hear your Mummah loudly exclaim,
“Hewwo! Nice mistahs be nyu daddehs? Giv nummies fo’ Mummah fo’ make miwkies fo’ bestesh babbehs?”
You peek out from under your hiding place to see three human boys looking down at your family. They weren’t little, but they certainly weren’t big like the adults you usually see passing by the alleyway.
They smile at your Mummah, and a couple of them shift their weight as they take off the backpacks they were carrying. The one in the middle answers her.
“HmmmSure~ Are these all your babies?”
Mummah nods her head excitedly, showcasing your brother and sister to them.
“Yus! Dese am Mummah’s bestesh babbehs!”
She points to your sister. “Dis am bestesh dancie babbeh!” Then she points to your brother. “An’ dis am Bestesh Best Babbeh!”
Of course, she forgot about you. You feel your heart ache in your chest. You didn’t want to be forgotten! You wanted to have a daddeh too! You struggle to sit up, feeling weak from aching bruises and the lack of strength in your tiny body. You had to make yourself known before you were left behind!
“So cool~ Do you wanna play a game with us?” The boy asks again, he friends quietly laughing as they pull things you can’t quite see out of their backpacks. Your brother practically bounces in place excitedly as your Mummah doesn’t even hesitate in giving her answer.
“Yus! Fwuffies wuv tu pway gamesies! What widdwe daddeh wan pway?”
“We’re gonna play the Boomy game!”
You watch as your brother is scooped up in the boy’s hand, his little arms trying to reach out for a hug. Except the boy doesn’t give him a hug. Instead, he takes something from one of his friends, and your brother starts screaming.
“N-Nuu! Nu touch poopie pwace!! Dat Nu fo-Owwies!! OWWIES!!! UUHUUHUUHUU!!!WOSTEST HUWTIES!!! NU WAN! NU WAN! MUMMAH! MUMMAH HEWP!!”
The boys laugh as your bother is held out above your Mummah. She desperate tries to reach him. “NU!!! Widdwe Daddeh dat am bad uppsies!! Wai huwt bestesh babbeh’s poopie pwace?! Poopie pwace nu am fo’ huwties!! Gib Mummah bestesh babbeh nao!! Nu wike dis game!!!”
“Hold it still, I got the lighter.” The boy on the left says.
You tremble and sink back under your newspaper nest, watching as your brother frantically tries to flail in the boy’s grasp and flee. The boy on the left holds up something in his hand and with a couple of clicking sounds, suddenly holds fire.
“EEEEEEE!!! Pwease nu gib buwnie huwties tu bestesh babbeh widdwe daddeh!! Babbeh am fo’ huggies an’ wuv!!” Your Mummah begs. Your sister cries, pissing on the ground as she tries to hide by covering her eyes.
They bring the fire close to your brother as he screams as loudly as he possibly can. You can’t bear to watch. You hear the boys laugh before your Mummah cries again.
“Wun tu Mummah, bestesh! Mummah sabe babbeh!”
You open your eyes to see your brother placed on the ground, trying to waddle towards your Mummah and crying as a weird string hanging out his poopie place drags behind him. The end is lit with scary burnie sparks slowly crawling up the string and getting closer to your brother.
“Huuhuuhuu!! Mummah!! Sabe bestesh babbeh!!”
Mummah scoops up your bestest brother, ready to give him all her love and hugs to save him from the scary burnie sparks. She smiles when the sparks suddenly disappear, looking at your brother hopefully.
“See, bestesh, Mummah sabe-”
Your brother’s lower half suddenly explodes with a deafening pop. His eyes bulge out of his skull as blood and viscera drip out of his top half in chunks. His torso trembles as blood spurts from his mouth, spraying your mother’s face in a mist of red.
A couple of seconds pass as your mother stares, gaping at the choking remains of your bestest brother’s upper half hanging in her hooves before suddenly uttering a guttural scream. The boys laugh loudly over her, making exclaimations about how ‘funny’ or ‘awesome’ it was.
Then the boys advanced, taking advantage of your Mummah and bestest sister’s stunned horror to grab them and continue their most horrible boomy game. They tied more of the boomy sticks to each of your sister’s limbs, watching as each one exploded, laughing as she screamed louder with each lost limb before being picked up and forced to ‘dance’ on the eviscerated stubs for Mummah to watch.
They finished her off by tying her to a bigger boomy stick that sent her flying into the air only to crash by into the ground with a deafening booming crackle.
Mummah was treated the same as your siblings. Her special place was the first to go. The stick they shoved in there make so many colourful sparks and fires, it would’ve been pretty were it not so horrifying. Her precious milkie places were clamped to the wheel of a bicycle before she was promptly dragged up and down the alley while her fluff caught fire. They frantically tried to put it out, only to end up fighting over who would get to ‘light the next one’. They tugged and pulled her limbs until her body was ripped in half, spilling out all her tummy sketties all over the dirty asphalt.
“Aw fuck!”
“Wait, she’s still alive. Quick! Stick this one in her stupid mouth before she dies!”
And they did. They stuffed another few boomy sticks into your Mummah’s mouth before blowing them all up. Her eye left bulging like your brothers as the entire left half of her face was eviscerated. Had you any more scaredy poopies to give, you’d be spraying another load. The boy’s laughter was cut short by the shout of a lady.
“HEY! What the Hell are you doing with fireworks over there?! It’s the fucking dry season, are you trying to start another wildfire?!”
The boys scramble in a panic to gather their things, cursing as they flee the scene of their crimes as quickly as they could upon hearing the approaching footsteps.
Once they’re gone, you find yourself sitting in front of the remains of your massacred family. You don’t even remember getting up and walking over here. You felt so numb. The stench of blood and gunpowder hung heavily in the air. You could barely even register the shape of the woman getting closer only to stop once she reaches the gory mess.
“Ugh, nasty…” She cringes in revulsion. “Stupid fucking kids, can’t even stick to this shit during the holidays… Gonna start a damn fire and burn down the fucking neighborhood, I swear… Goddammit I better not have any on my shoes…”
You barely understand what she’s saying. You hardly even register what’s happening. Your family was gone. Your home was destroyed. You had nothing left anymore.
“Miss Wady…” Your voice creaks, startling you with it’s suddenness. The lady looks startled too, looking around before suddenly seeing you.
“Oh shit. You’re alive.”
“Yus. Gib fowevah sweepies, pwease.”
“Whut?”
You drag your eyes away from the gore to stare up at her. “Pwease… Mummah gone… Bwudda and Sissie gone… Nu hab miwkies… Nu hab nestie… Am jus’ Poopie. Onwy gud fo’ num poopies an’ fowevah sweepies…” Your vision blurs with tears at it truly sinks in how truly alone you are and what you’re asking of this human. You didn’t really want to have forever sleepies, not like your family, but you knew that you were going to have them soon anyway, whether you wanted it or not. “Poopie nu hab nuffin’ nao… Am fo’ nuffin nao…”
The lady sighed and cursed under her breath, digging in her bag only to pull out some tissues. “Well, hold on just a moment, lemme get a good look at you first…”
She gently covers you in the tissues and picks you up, and you let her. You’re too tired to fight, even if you wanted to. You were trying to be ready to accept death.
“Damn, you’re nothing but skin and bones… Bet you never even had milkies, huh?”
“… Onwy widdwe… M-Mumm… Mummah hate Poopie miwkie thief…”
“Yeah, I bet she did… You’re a two tone though. Both in mane and fluff… I wonder…” The lady mutters to herself, thinking hard on what to do. You sigh, and lay limply in her hand, wondering how she’ll end your life. You hope it’ll be quick.
Instead, she starts moving. You open your eyes to see that she’s carrying you away.
“W-Whewe goin’?”
“We’re going to my house.” She answers.
“Nu… Nu gib fowevah sweepies?” You ask, your throat making your words ragged at how dry it felt.
“Not today. If we’re lucky, not anytime soon. Just try to stay alive, yeah?”
“… Otay…”
You have been living with the lady, whom you now called Mummah 'Wetta, for many bright times now. She put you in a special nestie that she called a ‘kennel’. At first, you didn’t like it, because it was scary, and the pokey hurties she gave you made you cry, but as they days wore on, you slowly started to feel better. She even gave you milkies! It was the best thing you had ever tasted, and you’d finally felt full for the first time in your entire little life.
Some days were better than others, while some days were really bad. Sometimes you had many sickies from the milkies or medicine that Mummah 'Wetta gave you, and the lonliness within the kennel was crushing. So she introduced you to a scary monster fluffy named Betsy Boo. You were terrified of her at first, but she promised to protect you and help you feel better. She gave you all the love and hugs she could, even helping you clean up your messes and slowly easing you of your fears.
She also kept correcting you and making sure you never called yourself ‘Poopie’.
“But if nu am Poopie, den wha’ babbeh am?”
“Am gud babbeh.” She answered softly.
“Nu hab namsie?”
She hummed softly. “Nu knu, nee’ ask Mummah 'Wetta.”
So you did, and you were delighted beyond words to be given a new name.
“Slick. Due to your fluff having a subtle iridescent sheen that makes your two-tones look like an oil slick.”
“Swick wuv nyu namsie! Tank yu Mummah 'Wetta! Wuv yu!”
“If you think that’s great, you’re gonna love the safe room even more.” She grins, gesturing for you and your surrogate mother to follow.
A new safe room?! You never fathomed even dreaming about a safe room! You hear the sounds of other fluffies, and you feel nervous. Upon being picked up and set down in the room, you’re greeted with the sight of a whole herd of fluffies chatting, playing, and happily co-existing with each other. A group of babies rushes up to greet Mummah 'Wetta and Betsy Boo.
“Everybody! We have a new foal joining us today, I want everyone to give him a warm welcome.”
A chorus of 'Hello’s fills the air as you shyly hide behind one of Betsy Boo’s legs. She chuckles and urges you to come out and greet the others, facing you towards the crowd of foals that quickly pushed their way forward to come sniff at you and say hello.
“Nyu fwen?!” “Hewwo fwen!” “Am wittwe babbeh?” “Heeheehee!”
“Move! Move! Big Babbeh wanna see!!” A pink fluffy says, pushing their way through. At first you didn’t even think they were a babbeh had they not said so, they were HUGE! The Biggest Babbeh you had ever sen in your life! You feel a little intimidated by how they toward over you. You braced yourself for getting hurties.
“Hewwo nyu fwen! Wan pway?”
Play? They wanted to play with you? You open your eyes to see all the foals excited chattering about playing and asking you to join. Your heart swells with joy.
“Yus! Wan pway!!”
They cheer and start to run, initiating you into your first game of huggie tag. Together you all laugh, and hug, and play. You’ve found your new herd. Your new family. One that gives you the huggies and love every fluffy was truly for.
You are the happiest you have ever been, happier than even your happiest dreams.
He is a two-toned pretty boy. We could probably work something in~