abuse artist:bawsnia author:teatime42 collab fluffy_foals foal_dies hope hope_part_2_of_5 hugbox mummah questionable sadbox the_gathering_storm


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You shiver, and look around.
You're in a pile with your Sister.
Momma's out getting food.
There's been less miwkies lately.
You've been drinking less, it makes you hungry, but your sister is sooo small, and you're sooo big.
You love your sister, love your mummah.
You sister shivers more, you curl around her body tighter.
Her warmth warming you, you're warming her.
She's still so small, her little white and pink body is growing so much slower than yours.
You're almost twice her size.
She hasn't moved since mummah left, she's always been afraid to move when mummah's gon-...

“Babbehs! Mummah hab nummies, make miwkies soon!”

Mummah's back!
She walks around the corner of your home, the thing she calls a “Safey bawx”. Her white white fluff and pink mane is dirty, but she looks like the prettiest bestest mummah to you.
Your heart soars, being away from mummah is so scary, but it's almost worth it for the feeling you get when she comes back.
A joy so powerful you start to tremble and shiver like you're cold, but you're not, you're so warm inside!
You want to scream, laugh, run around in circles all at the same time!
Instead you feel your tummy rumble, you're so hungr-.. oh! You need to make poopies.

“Mummah, babbeh nee make poopies.”

She smiles at you, “An whewe do gud babbeh's go poopies?”

OH! You know this one!

“Gud babbehs go poopies away fwom dah safey bawx!”

And you go to do just that, walking around one of the big metal thingies with mummah watching you till you're out of sight.
Where you squat, and release.
It most certainly no smells pretty.
You hate the no smell pretty smell.
It's smells so no pretty, why would something smell so no pretty?
It boggles you're mind.
You even carefully rub you behind against part of the metal tingy, it's cold, but it takes any poopies and no smell pretty away, so you smell pretty!
Just like mummah taught you to do.
You head back to the safey bawx, and you hear sister talking to mummah.
You come around the corner, prancing happily, not looking where you're going.
And you stop dead in your tracks as something hits your nosey!
It hurts!

“Owwies, wha huwt bebbeh?” You ask, you look up, and IT'S MUMMAH!

“Bad babbeh! Babbeh nu make poopies in safey bawx!”

But, this, what, how, this is, whaaaaaat?

“Babbeh nu make poopies in safe bawx! Babbeh make poopies behind metaw tingy!” You fall back onto your rear, front hooves clutching your poor injured nosey.

“Den wat dis?” Mummah says, pointing a hoof at the bawx.

You hunch slightly as you walk carefully around mummah, suddenly aware of how large she is.
You smell it before you see it, it's sooooooo no smell pretty.
You wrinkle your nose in disgust.
It's on the side of the bawx you don't sleep in. How did it get there?
Mummah didn't do it, she wasn't here!
You didn't do it, you just made poopies, if you'd done it you wouldn't have had poopies to make!
Sister couldn't do it, she was sleeping. You look over at her, and she's curled in the the other corner, head to the bawx.
It must have been you, could you have made poopies and not know?
Secret poopies, poopies even you didn't know about?

Something boops you from behind!
You fall on your face, your behind hurts, your face hurts. You wrap your hoovsies around your face, hugging it. You can't clutch your behind.
No behind huggies for you.

“Babbeh nu make bad poopies no mo, nu make poopies whewe fwuffies wive.” Mummah walks past you, over to sister, who peeps in fear, and starts crying as she's picked up, and placed on mummah's miwky pwaces.

“Nu cwy babbeh, gud babbeh, it otay, dwink wotsa miwkies.”

You watch for a moment, then slink back over to mummah.
You know you didn't make bad poopies, but who else could?
Maybe... maybe you did make bad poopies...
Who else could it be?
You try to get some miwkies for yourself, you're so hungry.
But mummah boops you in the nosey again!
Why must your nosey always be ouchies?!

“Bad babbeh, wait fow miwkies!”

You crouch down where you fell, trying to hug yourself.
You feel numb, hungry, and sooooo cold.
There's cold in your chest, and it hurties so much.
More than the boops, more than anything, it hurties so much.
You hear a slight sound, it's so quiet...


It's you.

It takes a while, but you wait for sister to be done.
Mummah glares at you, but let's you drink.
There's so little milk left, you feel more hungry than before you drank.
Your tummy gurgles.

“If dat poopies, babbeh bettew go make GUD poopies...” Mummah says, still glaring at you.

You shake your head no, looking down “Dat nu poopies, babbeh hungwy, nee miwkies...”

Mummah doesn't say anything for a moment, then you feel her touch you.
You flinch away, but mummah is so big, she picks you up anyway.
She hugs you.
You start crying, crying harder than you ever have, and desperately try to wrap yourself around mummah.

“It otay babbeh, mummah fin mowe miwkies next bwight time, mummah nu aways fin nough nummies to make nough miwkies... Bhu yu big babbeh, yu be fine. Wittwe babbeh nee mo miwkies.”

She coo's softly at you as she sets you down, she's gone for a second, but she comes back.

“Dewe mummah take cawe of bad poopies, mummah knu you be gud babbeh next time, no make bad poopies again.”

She settles down next to you, and a second later, pulls sister over to you both.
You settle down to sleep, suddenly exhausted.
Today was scary, mummah was scary.
But mummah loves you, she hugged you, fed you.
You didn't get much, but you've always made sure that sister got enough miwkies, you don't mind too much that she got most of it this time.
Mummah was mad at you, and you need to make extra sure to never make secret bad poopies again.
But she loves you. You know it.
You feel warm.
Safe again.
You sniff, and smell something.
You move you head away from sister a bit.
Her behind no smells pretty.


- Reply
Teatime42: Okay, I couldn't wait. XD

All of it will be posted today, just spread out a bit. :)

- Reply
Waggytail: Yissss!
- Reply
DILLIGAF: Dunno, this story seems a little familiar. I remember reading something on here before where one baby kept crapping in the nest and blaming or getting mummah to think the other baby did it and that baby kept getting beat on and never fed.

- Reply
Teatime42: @DILLIGAF: It's an idea that's been done before.

Granted, not often, but yeah.
- Reply
DILLIGAF: Not saying it isn't good, just can't believe the mother can't see that the sissy is the bad baby. I await a murderous death of the shitty little sister.

- Reply
Teatime42: @DILLIGAF: >Fluffy Logic and critical thinking skills<

Sadly. XD

But you know... I wonder what sister was talking to mummah about as brother was on his way back...
- Reply
Anonymous1: @DILLIGAF: I think that one was about a pair of "twin" fluffy foals, right? The mother couldn't tell them apart because they had the same colors?

- Reply
Teatime42: @Anonymous: Yeah, I remember that. And when they went to get rid of the corps of the dead one, they buried the living one instead.

I don't think that's what he was talking about though.
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