"Some people drop acid, I live with it."

The Werewolf - gouache, ink and metal gilding on paper

IT´S HERE

Idk how much time Ive talking bout writting this fic but cap 1 has finally arrived!! I want to thank my friends Spooky and Camy for being beta readers of this, love ya!!! 🫶​💕​

tagging some moots:3 @timona-lisa @shitpost-it-tristan @pumbaa-de-milo (if anyone else wants to be tagged in the next caps just tell me)

Enjoy! <3

🌸​🍃​🌸​🍃​🌸​🍃​🌸​​🍃​🌸​🍃​🌸​🍃​🌸🌸​🍃​🌸​🍃​🌸​🍃​🌸​

I

It was barely morning when Timon first woke up.

It wasn’t like he’d want to.

He laid on his side, closing his eyes, with the hope of falling asleep again.

It didn’t work.

He frowned, frustrated for being awake so early and once more, unclosed his eyes.

Now, his view has changed, he wasn’t looking at the treetops anymore, but Pumbaa. Timon smiled and pressed a soft kiss on his check before getting out of their shared nest.

As he stepped through the Oasis, the little engines on his head started to work. He decided he was getting some grubs for Pumbaa and him, of course he was.

Timon reached one of his favorite places to get food; some rocks hidden by the wildlife packed with lots of nooks and cracks overfull with the most delicious bugs he had tasted. He started to pick some here and there, settling them in a tree bark he found. Then he saw the perfect grub: huge and, by the judgment of how it shined under the sunlight, it was pretty slimy too.

“Pumbaa will love this one!” thought Timon as he jumped over his prey. An easy catch, although his claws slipped into the dirt.

Normally he would had trembled to the sensation —he hated to get dirty— but, today, something just felt right to him.

Timon left his catch into the tree bank with the others, yet his paws were still craving the soil.

Almost automatically, he stepped back, bending down and placing his paws back into the ground.

A shiver ran down his spine.

Then, before he could realize, started to move his paws, and, between sweat and dust, a hole began to form before him.

----------------------------------

“Timon?” The head of a warthog appeared through the other side of the hole. “Timon, what are you doing?” Pumbaa asked, with a slight trail of concern in his voice. Timon could be… unpredictable sometimes, but this was weird, even for him. The meerkat finally snapped out of his trance and rose his head. “Oh, hey Pumbaa, didn’t see ya there” he replied casually as he cleared the dust of his arms and fur out.

“Were you… digging?” Pumbaa inquired.

“What- no!” Pumbaa just stared at him “… Yes”

Timon looked around, realizing he was trapped. Instead of a tunnel, he had dug a sort of deep, huge hole. “Uuuh, mind ya to give me a hoof?”

Pumbaa tend his paw so Timon could get out of the hole. He gave Timon an affectionate nuzzle before speaking again.

“Timon, why were you digging? I thought you moved out of your old colony so you didn´t have to dig anymore!”

 It isn’t just the digging, Pumbaa thought. Something about Timon felt different, a queer vibe in his posture, his manners.

“I know, I-I’m not sure of what happened to me back there.”  He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself together. “I was just getting breakfast for us and then it was like I had, I needed to dig”.

Timon sat down. “I’ve always hated digging, I still do. I- I have no idea of why, why I…” Tears threatened to come out, so Timon made a pause.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying” he chuckled.

“Shhh, it’s ok, even the best of us have weird days sometimes”. Pumbaa kissed the top of Timon’s head. “Even you. Now, c’mon, the sun is almost at the top of the sky and we promised Simba that today we will be back by lunch time.”

The mention of his son seemed to animate Timon.

“The kid! Pumbaa, why didn’t say it before?!” The meerkat stood up; his characteristic energy was back. “Hurry up Pumbaa! Simba’s waiting for us and I´m still a mess!”

“You’re not a m-”

“Go, go, go!” hurried Timon as he begun to run. Pumbaa panted, but he couldn’t help but smile. He followed Timon through the trees, to the waterhole, to Pride Rock, to the end of world if necessary.  

-------------------------

“Dad! They’re here!” Kiara cheered.

Despite the distance, she was able to recognize the blurry spot that Timon and Pumbaa were. As they ran a little closer, she could distinguish Timon waving vigorously.

Kiara headed down Pride Rock, followed by Simba. She almost collided with Pumbaa when they met the warthog at the entrance of the caves.

He and Timon pulled her into a hug.

“Kiara!” We’ve missed you so much!” Pumbaa said with tears of joy.

“Missed you too” Their granddaughter whispered. After the Outlanders joined the pride Timon and Pumbaa thought it was the perfect time for taking a short holidays at the Hakuna Matata Falls to “relax and get back into the hakuna matata lifestyle while the Outlanders settled to their new home.”

“Pops! Papa!” Simba called.  

“My baby!” cried Timon, jumping from Pumbaa’s head. He slightly flattered before rushing to Simba. The meerkat wrapped the paw of his cub in a tight hug, “How have things been lately?” Timon asked while he distractedly groomed Simba’s fur. “Are the Outlanders giving any trouble?”

“Everything’s been alright” Simba chuckled. “The Outlanders have nicely integrated to the pride and they are getting along really good with the other lionesses.”

“Can we don’t call them “Outlanders” anymore?” Kiara intervened. “They’re part of our pride now”.

Simba smiled.

“You’re right as always Kiara. Now, why don’t we go inside? Nala and Kovu have been waiting for a while now and I got a huge pile of bugs for us to eat.”

Kiara grimaced.

“Dad, how can you even like those things?”

“Aww, c’mon! They’re tasty! Ya know, sliming yet-”

“… Satisfying. Still gross...” 

“Heard you!” Both laughed as they entered the den.

Pumbaa smiled at the scene before he noticed Timon was missing. The warthog looked behind to find his mate wobbling as he tried to walk.

“Hey, ya okay?” Pumbaa asked worriedly.

“Yeah, yeah. I just got dizzy for a sec.” Timon replied, getting into the cave.

Pumbaa stared at him for a second, frowning, before following Timon into the den.

--------------------

“Timon, are you sure you are okay?” Pumbaa grilled with increasing worrying, “You barely touched your grubs.”

“I said I’m fine” Timon muttered.

Pumbaa didn´t believe him. Timon was unusually quiet, although the other lions didn’t seem to notice, maybe just with the exception of Simba, whose smile was fading.

“You know it’s okay not to be okay darling, right?” Pumbaa reminded in a whisper. Timon looked at him, and he seemed a little bothered.

“I said I’m-” He couldn’t keep talking because a horrible retching made him to threw up. “… not doing so good.” He finished, falling against Pumbaa.

The cave reminded silent for a second. Then Pumbaa spoke again.

“Call Rafiki.”

🌸​🍃​🌸​🍃​🌸​🍃​🌸​​🍃​🌸​🍃​🌸​🍃​🌸🌸​🍃​🌸​🍃​🌸​🍃​🌸​

Also, the fic in ao3 if you want to support it there too: