A little bit of backstory for @CuddlyBloodily’s Feast Artwork, plus a little introduction for someone I’ll be using later.
Robert Nelson had lucked out when he found Pickle.
The poor filly had been left all alone in the babbeh pen of the Fluff-Mart, watching all her brothers and sisters and friends be given new homes and new mummahs and daddehs. Pickle was the last one of her batch left, her dull green coat with purple mane gave her an unappealing look and she was an Earthie to boot so new breeder wanted her either. Pickle had given up on finding a new home when she felt a soft hand on her back and heard the words every Fluffy dreamed of hearing.
“Her, I’ll take her.”
“Nyu daddeh?”
“That’s right, I’m your new daddy.”
Robert lifted Pickle off the floor and into his arms, the bond set between pet and owner. He didn’t care about her colours or her types.
He had something else in mind for her
The next few months went by smoothly for the pair, Robert taught Pickle about Alicorns and brown Fluffies so she wouldn’t discriminate against the neighbours, and Pickle provided Robert with companionship after a hard day’s work.
She never found out what he did for work, all she knew was that he came home spelling like delicious nummies but never had any with him.
Things changed, as they often did for Fluffy owners, when Pickle hit six months old and she got that feeling in her tummy after a particularly vibrant episode of Dancie Babbehs, being the good Fluffy she was, Pickle toddled up to her daddy one day and asked him.
“Daddeh? Can Pickew hab babbehs pwease.”
Robert looked down at his Fluffy, the flash of something crossed his eyes and Pickel found herself momentarily frightened, until Robert leant over his chair and stroked her head.
“I’m sorry Pickle, but this house is too small for babies, we can’t fit them in here.”
“Bu… daddeh housie am su big.”
“For you, yes, but imagine if there was four or five more of you. There’d be no space.”
“Bu babbehs am onwy wittew fings, can stay on Pickew bak.”
“Yes but babies grow up, they become big Fluffies, and then what happens when they want babies of their own. I’m sorry Pickle, but no.”
Pickle dropped her head and crawled over to her bed, crying herself to sleep for the babbehs she would never have.
But Fluffies are stubborn and Pickle was no exception, everyday she would ask Robert to have babbehs, everyday coming up with more and more excuses how they could work. What if she kept them only in the safe room, what if she was only allowed to keep her bestesh babbeh, what if this, what if that?
Robert always said no until one day, he put Pickle into the garden and told her to stop being a bad Fluffy and accept that babbehs weren’t happening.
Pickle was inconsolable, she wasn’t a bad Fluffy, she’d worked so hard to be a good Fluffy and her daddeh loved her. Why couldn’t he see that babbehs were the best thing ever, that they would ease the hurties in her heart that she’d had since her own family were taken from her.
“Daddeh pwease, wet Pickew bak in, nu wike ousside.”
She pounded on the door until her soft little hoofs started to bruise but Robert never came. Pickle turned and left the door, finding shelter in a little dog-house not far from the door.
Though where the dog was, Pickle had no idea.
She lay there crying to herself when she heard a strange noise coming from the fence.
“Hewwo? Nyu fwiend?”
It was another Fluffy, she hadn’t seen or heard one since she was in the Fluff-Mart. Waddling over to the fence, she was him, a beautiful dark red Fluffy with a white mane, she was moderately taken aback when she saw he had wings and a horn, but then she remembered what Robert had taught her and smiled at the stallion.
“Hewwo, am Pickew, dis am homesie.”
“Hewwo, am Wed Fwuffy. Wai nyu fwiend hab saddies?”
“Huu, daddeh nu wet Pickew hab babbehs, babbehs am bestesh fing eba.”
Red Fluffy smiled. “Fwuffy wookin fow speciaw-fwiend tu hab famiwy. Du Pickew wan be speciaw-fwiend?”
Pickle took a second to think, her daddy had said no babbehs, if she disobeyed him she would be a bad Fluffy, and she didn’t want to be a bad Fluffy.
Then the second passed and she nodded enthusiastically. “Yeh, wan be Fwuffy’s speciaw-fwiend.”
Working together, the two Fluffies dug a small hole underneath the fence – an easier task than either of them expected – and before long, Red Fluffy was inside the garden, face to face with his new mate.
A slight tinge of nerves hit both of them, before Red took the initiative and nuzzled Pickle softly. She purred at his touch.
“Coo, wub.”
The two Fluffies rubbed the sides of their bodies together, feeling each other’s heartbeat through the closeness, Red’s nose went straight for Pickle’s special-place and she giggled as the touch tickled her.
Satisfied that both of them were eager and willing, Pickle dropped her front legs down and flicked her tail, letting more of her scent entice Red. The happy stallion carefully mounted his new mate, and entered her.
Pickle shuddered at the intrusion as a moment of pain was slowly replaced by something warm and comforting, even as Red’s libido overtook his senses she loved the feeling.
“Enf, enf, enf, enf, enf.”
“Oooh, wub speciaw-fwiend, wub speciaw-huggies.”
“Enfenfenfenfenf.”
“Wan babbehs, wan be mummah.”
“ENFENFENFENF… GUUD FEEWS!”
Red and Pickle fell down as he coated her insides with his no-no juice, she felt him plop out of her as they caught their breaths. Basking in the afterglow of good enfies, Red placed a hood over Pickle’s torso and licked the back of her neck.
“Wub yu speciaw-fwiend.”
“Wub yu tuu.”
The two of them lay on the grass for some time, maybe minutes, maybe hours, before their bliss was interrupted by a stern cough, Robert had found them.
Pickle turned and smiled happily at her daddy. “Daddeh wook, Pickew hab speciaw-fwiend, am soon-mummah nyo.”
The look on Robert’s face scared her, and Red instinctively went over to protect his new family, growling slightly at the mean looking human. Then Robert’s face softened and he bent down to stroke Red’s ears.
“I see you have, well far be it for me to break up a happy couple, I guess this little guy can stay. You got a name?”
Red shook his head. “Neba hab name, am jus Wed Fwuffy.”
“I see, well how about I call you… Rust.”
“Wust? Wub nyu namesie, fank yu nyu daddeh.”
Pickle cheered. “Yay, daddeh wub speciaw-fwiend, gub hab bestesh famiwy.”
“Now Pickle, I meant what I said, inside is too small for babies. But since Rust here is an outside Fluffy, he can help you live out in the garden.”
Pickle’s face dropped. “Gawden? Bu babbehs need wawm homesie, an gud nummies an toys an…”
“They can have all the food and toys they want but they can’t be inside, you’re lucky I’m letting you have babies at all. Now I’ll bring out some blankets and your bed for you both and you can stay warm in the dog-house, this garden is plenty big enough to raise your family together.”
Pickle looked around the garden, while not small by any means, she still thought inside the house was bigger, but daddy was smart so she reluctantly trusted him and went to wait by the dog-house, Rust standing by her side.
“It ok speciaw-fwiend. Wust wiv ousside fow many fowebas, teech Pickew tu du same.”
Pickle nodded, her worries alleviated by having Rust by her side.
“BIGGESH POOPIES!”
The next month was harsh but bearable, it took Pickle sometime to get use to living outside, while she had all her toys and she never struggled for food, she missed simple things like Fluff-TV and cushions, she even missed baths.
Mostly she missed being warm, the weather was starting to turn and it was raining more and more these days. Pickle who had only seen rain from the comfort of her home had small panic attacks whenever the clouds burst, believing that the sky-wawa was going to wash her and her babbehs away. Rust however had survived many a rainy night and always made sure that Pickle was inside the dog-house when the rains started so he could hug her and keep her safe.
“It ok speciaw-fwiend, babbehs safe nyo. Daddeh wub mummah, mummah wub daddeh, wook afta babbehs, wan see dem soon.”
His little song always made her feel better and made the rains that little bit easier to handle.
Before she knew it, Pickle was giving birth, having never had babbehs before the whole experience terrified her, all she could tell was that there was an awful pain in her special-place and her bowels felt like they were going to explode.
Rust was slightly more adapt, he had seen births before with his old herd, before he escaped during a power struggle between the Smarty Crowley and Toughie Burke.
“It ok speciaw-fwiend, jus babbehs comin.”
“BABBAHS! OOOOHHHHH!”
Torn between fear and pain, Pickle could only lay on her oversized stomach as she felt something push its way out of her, Rust stayed at her back, occasionally rubbing her Fluff while preparing to help the first foal out of his mate.
“Keep guin speciaw-fwiend, fiwst babbeh awmosh dewe.”
With a final push, enough of the foal had appeared for Rust to pull it the rest of the way out and lay it on a dry portion of the blanket.
“Babbeh hewe, su pwetty.”
“Ba… babbeh? Wet Pickew see, need gib… OOHHHH!”
More foals were coming, Rust made sure the first foal was safe before helping Pickle with the rest. By the end she would’ve given birth to five healthy foals.
A light green Pegasus filly with a white mane named Rosemary
A yellowish/green earthie colt with a purple mane names Sage
A dark green unicorn colt with a red mane named Parsley
A light green earthie filly with a purple mane named Thyme
And a dark green earthie colt with a white mane named Basil
With the afterbirth released from her, Pickle looked over her family, her little heart bursting with love for them all.
“Babbehs am su pwetty, wub dem aww. Fank yu speciaw-fwiend.
“Fank yu, Wust am daddeh nyo, hab biggesh heawt-happies.”
The couple quickly nuzzled before Pickle sat herself down and picked up Rosemary and Sage, the first two babbehs born from her, and placed them onto her teats, the tow tiny mouth fumbled for a moment before latching on and suckling, Pickle then took Parsley for huggies while Rust did the same for Thyme and Basil.
“Mummah wub babbehs, babbehs wub mummah, dwink da miwkies, gwow big an stwong.”
It wasn’t long after Pickle had started feeding Parsley and Thyme that Robert made an appearance, he peered inside the happy home and noted all the foals.
“Well looks like somebody’s been busy.”
“Daddeh wook, Pickew babbehs, am su pwetty, Pickew wub aww babbehs.”
“Indeed you do, but five is quite a lot, you might not have enough milk for them all just yet.”
Pickle solemnly nodded, she had felt her teats depleting faster than she expected.
“I’ll go grab you some more food, you two just make sure everyone gets something to drink.”
As Robert went back inside, Pickle reluctantly removed Parsley and Thyme from her teats, their tiny little arms immediately stuck out, trying to reach out for their meal again.
‘Chirp chirp, peep.’
“Sowwy babbehs, need gib miwkies tu aww babbehs. Be mowe miwkies soon.”
She placed Basil to her open teat and let him gulp down the last of her supply just as Robert reappeared with two bowls of kibble, he placed one down in front of Pickle and the other down in front of Rust.
“Here, you’ll probably be hungry too.”
“Fank yu daddeh, Wust happy tu be daddeh nyo tuu, bu am vewy hungwy.”
“Well then eat up, keep your strength up for the kids.”
The two parents smiled and dug in, both of them feeling the sudden tiredness hit them all at once. Once their bowls were clean they both took a quick nap with their newborn family.
Pickle and Rust took to parenthood quite easily, Rust had some prior knowledge from his herd and Pickle had natural mothering instinct. Combined with the easy access to food from Robert and their foals did quite well as they grew up from chirpies to talkies and developed their own personalities.
Rosemary was indisputably the leader, as first born she took one the responsibility of leader her younger siblings through their games and making sire everyone had fun.
Sage was fairly quiet, mostly content to go along with whatever Rosemary suggested, he was a follower but he seemed happy with that role.
Parsley was a born Toughie, already larger and stronger than his siblings, he took on the role of protector with pride.
Thyme was inquisitive, a born ‘splorin babbeh, always with questions for her parents about the big wide world and always first in line to hear stories about her father’s travels when he was a feral.
And Basil… Basil was persistent. He was far from the smartest bulb on the tree – Robert suspected from being the last to receive a decent amount of milk when he was born – but he never let that get him down and he was happy to play with his siblings, even if he didn’t fully comprehend what they were saying.
Aside from the babbehs, Pickle had noticed something else. Rust seemed to be putting on more weight, he was definitely rounder than when they met, and being feral he was fairly skinny as well. Now he seemed about as big as she was around the half-way mark of her pregnancy.
She didn’t understand why, they were eating the same amount of food, but then she was converting hers into milk for her foals, likely that was what was burning off the extra energy. Besides, a fat Fluffy was a comfortable Fluffy and she wasn’t about to take that away from him.
Until one day, almost a month since the foals were born, Robert stopped giving them food. He just didn’t appear one day and the family was left confused and hungry, Pickle tried to eat some grass to feed her young but it wasn’t the same.
The next day when Robert finally appeared, the whole family waddled up to him, close to tears from the hunger of one day without food.
“Daddeh?” Pickle whined. “Wai nu bwing nummies, need make miwkies fow babbehs.”
“I’m so sorry Pickle, I got distracted yesterday, I’m having some difficulties with a project for work, I was wondering if I could borrow Rust for a moment to see if he can help me.”
“Daddeh wan Wust hewp? Wust twy.”
“Thank you, I promise I’ll bring out some food just as soon as we’re finished.”
Robert picked up Rust and carried him inside, the first time Rust had ever been inside the house, any house for that matter. He was too bust oohing and awwing at the colourful walls and furniture to notice that Robert had gone through to the kitchen and placed him on the countertop.
“Wha daddeh need Wust tu du?”
“First, I need you to open your mouth.”
Rust did as he was told, allowing Robert to jam an apple into his open mouth and keep it in place with string around the back of Rust’s neck. Satisfied that Rust wouldn’t be able to speak anytime soon, Robert pulled out a clever from the knife rack and let the metal glint catch Rust’s eye.
There was an audible fart where Rust’s scardie-poopies would’ve come had his stomach had any food in it.
“Next, I need you not to scream. Because if you scream, I’ll do this to your children.”
And with barely a second for Rust to understand what was happening, Robert grabbed one of his legs and brought the clever down, hacking it off in one hit.
Rust howled into the apple, until he remembered what Robert said and tried his best to focus the pain elsewhere, biting down onto the apple. He tried this three more times as Robert hacked off all four of his legs, tossing them to the side like trash.
Crying from the pain and embarrassment, Rust looked up at his daddy, his eyes begging to understand why. He would receive no answer, instead Robert would silently pull out a shaving razor and set about removing every inch of Fluff from Rust’s body. The traumatised stallion could only watch as his deep red coat was shredded away from his now pillowed body, he cried as his coat was removed from his back and he held his breath in terror when Robert brought the razor to his neck and face.
Being a seasoned professional, Robert had Rust utterly bald with only a few minor cuts. Happy that this stage of the prep work was done, Robert took the now hairless and legless Fluffy and placed him belly up into a tray of cold water filled with odd looking green things – Rust would never know the cruel irony that the green things were his children’s namesake including Sage and Rosemary.
Muffled by the apple, Rust cried out about ‘Wawa bad for Fluffy’ but Robert paid him no mind and pushed the marinating Fluffy to the side.
“Yes, I think that’ll do. Still got a few hours til the guests arrive, should be plenty of time.
*
Pickle spent the rest of the day confused and hungry, Robert never came back, neither did Rust. It was just her and her babbehs as the sun started to set.
“Mummah, am hungwy, wen can hab miwkies?” Basil asked yet again, his slower mind still not able to accept that food wasn’t there yet.
“Soon babbeh, wait tiww daddeh an Big daddeh come bak.”
Basil went off in a huff, his stomach was crying out for milk and his mummah wasn’t giving any. He tried to sate his appatite with water from the bowl, hating that he couldn’t just eat the water and be happy. Unless… could he eat the water? He could certainly try to, who knows he might have something.
Unaware of her son’s antics, Pickle dropped her head and whined for her mate, wanting his comfort to help her deal with her growling stomach. “Huu, miss speciaw-fwiend.”
Rosemary gathered Sage and Parsley and pointed to the window into Robert’s dining room, the noise and clatter of several people could be faintly heard. “Big Daddeh hab udda hoomins.”
Sage looked confused. “Fink dat why daddeh nu gib nummies?”
“Nu suwe, Wet Wosemawy cwimb bwuddas, hab wook.”
Parsley stood his ground at the bottom rung, puffing his cheeks to prove his strength. “Hmmph, am stwongesh, gun gib daddeh sowwy-hoofies num aww dewe nummies.”
Sage climbed on top of his brother then Rosemary on top of him, creating a small tower of babbehs that allowed Rosemary to peer into the window and see the commotion.
She saw six humans, including Robert, all gathered around a large dining table with food galore, roasted carrots, mashed potatoes, tangy cranberry sauce. And in the middle of it all, a plump piece of roasted meat that Rosemary might have been able to recognise, had Robert not cut off his head.
One of Robert’s guest sat back and laughed. “Alright Robbie, you’ve convinced me. There might be something to this Fluffies as food thing, that was one of the best damn meals I’ve had in a while.”
Robert chuckled. “Well if you spent less time killing them and more time preparing them, you might learn a thing or two.”
“Hey now, if there’s one thing Josef Mongola doesn’t need to do, it’s learn something.”
“Oh hush you.” Katherine Townsend slapped her date’s arm. “You spent the entire journey over here worried about having to buy takeout on the way home.”
“Yes but I’m happy to be proven wrong, Robert’s a great chef but an artist can only work with the tools he’s given. In this instance he pulled filet mignon out of mutton and that speaks wonders to his talents.”
Josef took a drink of wine as another guest, Wendy Hamilton, swallowed a piece of Fluffy Meat. “I must ask Robert, this is a stallion isn’t it?”
“It is indeed.”
“I thought you bought a mare? What happened to her?”
“Oh she’s outside with the foals, I’ll probably keep her around a little bit longer.”
“You planning on making her a Christmas feast?” Wendy’s husband Marvin chuckled.
“Actually no, I never planned on cooking her at all. I don’t know if any of you have noticed, but mare meat tends to have a fatter, sweeter taste to it, now there’s nothing wrong with that but I prefer stallion meat, I find the muted flavours allow you to do more with the seasoning during the preparation. But I can’t just buy one stallion at a time and hand-rear it for months at a time and hope it turns out ok, so that’s where Pickle comes in. She is essentially bait, I keep her in the garden, she attracts a male like Rust here, then I can raise the two of them and their foals together.”
Josef put down his wine, a confused look on his face. “But isn’t that just the same problem, hand-rearing Fluffies until they’re ready.”
“Ah yes, but there’s a couple tricks I’ll tell you about… Firstly, you know how Fluffy meat tastes best when it’s tinged with the fear adrenaline? Well what will frighten a Fluffy more than threatening to hurt his family? And secondly, rather than just rearing one at a time, I now have three more colts out there that I can raise together and start feeding them the fattening kibble until they’re ready for the table, once they’re gone I can sell off the fillies and start over again once Pickle goes into estrus and attracts another mate. The trick here is to space out moments of heartache as far as possible, right now Pickle and her foals haven’t been fed in nearly two days and now she’s likely wondering where Rust is, when I go out there tomorrow with a big bowl of kibble, she’ll be so happy to have food that I can ease the loss of her mate into her much easier. Rinse and repeat with every foal I take and I can dismantle her entire family with less risk of her hitting the wan-die phase.”
Josef chuckled. “That is fucking diabolical Robbie, you gotta come over to my place sometime and share notes.”
As the humans dug in for more food, Rosemary gasped at the feast in front of them.
“Dey hab aww da nummies. Pwease shawe, pwease. Famiwy am su hungwy.”
The little Pegasus tried to tap her tiny hoofs on the window glass but couldn’t reach, try as she might she couldn’t find a way to get the humans’ attention.
Down at the dog-house, Thyme approached her mother with curiosity in her eyes. “Mummah? Wai bwudda twy num wawa? Wai nu nummies fwom Big Daddeh?”
Pickle looked down at the food bowl, her saddened mind only half registering the sight of Basil’s corpse face-down in the water, drowned from his feeble attempts to eat the water and ease his hunger. With tears still in her eyes she lay her head down and went to sleep, dreaming of when Rust would return to her and happy days would resume.
She would never find out what Robert did to her, spending all of her days blissfully ignorant of his true intentions.
Robert will return. Pickle? Probably not.
