It’s nearly 3 am when Roland steps through his back door, not bothering to take his boots off. Instead he locks the door behind him and goes straight down to the basement. He was back much later than he wanted to be, thanks to an obnoxious police blockade in several streets. The last thing Roland wanted was to be chosen for a random search and have his package discovered. Flicking on the dim lights he tosses his backpack onto the workbench. Upon impact the backpack wriggles a little and squeaks. There is some scuffling from a group of cages to the left of the workbench. Roland hears a couple “hewwos”, and a “daddeh back”, but he pays them no mind.
Turning around, Roland sets his scarf and jacket upon some hooks in the back. He unlaces his mud-caked boots and places them off to the side. These were his hunting clothes and were never worn under normal circumstances. Walking back to the cages in the corner, he inspects his fluffy “apartment system”. There are 9 cages total, stacked 3x3, and only 3 of them are occupied, a fluffy on each layer. Roland leans down to face his 3 fluffies.
“Hey, I’m back with a new roommate for all of you”
Chess, the yellow and purple pegasus mare speaks up first.
“W-w-weawwy? Nyu fwuffy bwuddah ow sistah?”
“Another unicorn boy.”
This time Daryl spoke up. He was an all around red earthie, an outgoing young fluff with a curly mane.
“Dats nice, wiww nyu fwuffy sweep down hewe wit’ odah fwuffies?”
“Yes he’ll sleep with you, just let me prepare him. It’s late so you two get to sleep now.”
“Otay daddeh.”
The other two curl up and close their eyes. The third fluffy hadn’t spoken up at all, choosing to appear asleep. But Roland had caught the little bastard peeking out at him. He shifts closer to the light-blue fluffy’s cage.
“Skert, I know you aren’t sleeping, dad can tell when you’re faking it.”
Still no response, but the fluffy’s tail shifts to cover more of its body. Fool, Roland decides to focus on his new fluffy and deal with Skert later. The backpack hasn’t moved from where he dumped it. Turning it over, the piss-soaked towel falls out, splatting against the table. He grips a corner of the towel and pulls up, unraveling it and sending the fluffy tumbling into the wall. Placing the towel in a designated bucket, he turns his attention to the restrained fluffy. Roland carefully undoes the cord around its “wittew weggies” and predictable the fluffy attempts to scoot away. His hand shoots out to catch its still muzzled face and drag it closer for inspection.
Inspecting it shows that it had been crying, a lot. The mixture of tears and urine meant the fluffy was almost completely soaked. Just his luck, taking one with a full bladder. Judging by its size and mane growth, he was probably just over two months old. A young, lone alley-fluff. Roland could imagine several ways he ended up like that. Undoing the muzzle, Roland lifts the fluffy around the midsection so he’s roughly eye-level with him. He could feel his ribs through the matted fluff, this one hadn’t eaten well in a long while.
“Bad Upsies! SCREEE! Whewe is fwuffy?”
“Welcome to your new home, I will be your ‘daddeh’. Do you have a name?”
It hangs there miserably for a few seconds before responding.
“N-no, fwuffy nevah get name.”
‘So,’ Roland thought, ‘He’s probably been alone for most of his short life.’
His attention turns back to the fluffy, “Well lucky for you, as your new dad I can give you a name”
The purple fluff perks up, seemingly forgetting that it had been shoved in a backpack and kidnapped. That trademarked fluffy attention span allowed them to easily push bad events away to make room in their heads for things they like.
“Yay! What is fwuffy’s first name?”
“You will be…Romulus”
“Womu-wom-wommywus wuv nyu namesie! Tank ‘ou daddeh.”
Now that Romulus was properly calmed down, Roland set him back on the table. The little purple fluff looked around, sizing up his new basement home.
“Dis whewe Wommywus wiv nao?”
“Yes, in here you won’t have to worry about the cold, or hunger, or big monsters anymore. And you will get some brothers and sisters”
He sits still and stares up at Roland in awe. A smile spreads across its tear-stained face.
“Famiwy fow fwuffy, nyu daddeh am beste-”
“But I will warn you, living here will not be all fun. There are rules to follow and punishments for bad fluffies.”
Romulus recoils a little at the mention of punishments and bad fluffies. Tears well in his eyes as his little mind conjures up fictional punishments.
“Nu nu, Wo-Wo-Wommywus nu am bad fwuffy, nu wan huwties.”
“I know you aren’t, but it is part of how daddy takes care of his fluffies, I can’t have anyone going soft on me.”
Roland pats the fluffy on the head, much harder than necessary, pushing its head almost to the table’s surface. Romulus huuu’s a little and sits there shivering. Roland stares down at the exhausted fluffy and finally the tiredness hits him too. Picking up Rom, he turns to the small tub to the right of the workbench. He places Romulus inside, and the unicorn begins pacing around nervously.
“Wai fwuffy in bawks? Am cowd…”
‘Alright let’s get this over with,’ Roland thinks to himself.
Roland places one hand on the fluffy’s back to hold it while the other sneaks around to its ass. His fingers find their way around the rubber cork he inserted earlier that night. With a tight grip on the cork, he yanks it out.
“It’s bath time Romulus.”
Romulus screams and another stream of shit spurts out, splashing the side of the tub. Roland had no idea how fluffy bowels worked, but was extremely amused by just how forcefully they could push crap out. Roland turned the faucet and water gushed out into the tub. It flowed up and touched Romulus’ black “hooves”. He hops backward into the side of the tub, smearing shit all over his side.
“EEP! WAWA BAD AND COWD!”
“I won’t let you drown, it’s just enough water to clean you up.”
Roland shakes his head, these things have so little self-awareness they don’t even know how much water is dangerous for them. He once again grabs Romulus and shoves him into the stream, which has warmed up slightly. He then roughly rubs the shit off of the protesting fluff, fingers working into Rom’s ratty, purple fluff. With Romulus now shit-free, he went to work on the side of the tub, scraping the crap down into the drain and spraying at the once white surface.
Satisfied with his work, Roland plugs the tub and allows a couple inches of warm water to fill it up. He grabs the bottle of dish soap and squirts directly onto Romulus. He scrubs the fluffy up and down, getting into every nook of the unicorn’s body. Romulus squirms a little but is no longer complaining about the water, instead focused on his soapy body.
“Teehee, bubbows on fwuffy!”
Then, Romulus’ large eyes tear up as the soap gets in them, “Huuhuuuhuu, wowst eye huwties! Womuwus wan out, nu wan huwties!”
He frantically shakes his head and tries to scale the tub, his little legs scraping up the side but making no real progress. He slides back down and accidentally inhales water.
“Just. Hold. Still.”
“KAFF KAFF! SCREEEEEE! WAWA AND HUWTIES NU GUD FOW WOMMY! WITTEW FWUFFY NU NEE-”
WHAP!
Roland slaps the fluffy across its face, relishing the impact of his palm on Rom’s soft face. Romulus tumbles back into the tub, writhing on his back in the shallow water. Roland quickly leans in, buts jerks himself back, milliseconds from punching the helpless animal. He lowers his fist and deeply breathes in, heart pounding. He tells himself this fluffy was for keeping not slaughter. Roland sits back and wonders just how close he was to killing this time. He knew unicorns could be temperamental, but dear lord they were more grating than any other type.
Romulus, by miracle, manages to flip onto his side, and curls up in the water. Roland leans in and hears the fluffy sobbing to itself, unable to understand all the hurt it had been given. Roland sighs to himself, admitting that it had been a very long night for the little creature. He gently picks Romulus up and places him onto a dry towel laid upon the concrete floor. The fluffy collapses onto the towel, shivering with tears flowing down his already soaked face.
“Huu huu huuuu. Wai nyu daddeh make fwuffy hab huwties.”
Roland responds by wrapping Romulus up and bringing him close. Not quite a hug but the contact was there.
“Well, your dad is very tired tonight and sometimes I get a little angry.”
“But daddeh still wuv Wommy? huu…”
“Of course, and don’t you forget it. Now I’m going to put you to bed once you’ve dried off. There will be food in the morning”
Roland’s glasses reflect hard light as finishes drying off Romulus and places the fluffy in his designated cage for the night. His other three fluffies don’t even stir as Romulus settles into his new home, a glimmer of hope in the former street-rat’s eyes. Roland whispers good-night, trudges up the stairs, and flicks the lights off. As he heads to bed Roland can hear slight complaints of “scawy dawkies” and rattling of the cage, but pays them no mind. It had been two months, but he was finally back in business.
(The fluffspeak is a work in progress, so many little things to it)