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mxvladdy · 3 years

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Lost Affections: Part 3

Ayyyyoooo. Here is the last part to @marymaryroo's request!

On to the next one :)

Magic is a beautiful and powerful thing. It permeates the Devildom like an eternal fog. For the residents, it is as common as breathing. From the strongest of their kind down to the lowest inhabitants, it is integral to their culture and daily life. Mistakes and accidents happen daily with young and old alike learning or experimenting. Magical rebounds and mishaps mean very little to them, especially the brothers. From the Celestial Realms down, they have seen it all.

Sometimes they forget that to you, magic can be a volatile and dangerous.

Beelzebub

Beel would never call himself accident-prone. He didn’t trip and stumble like Belphie when sleep deprived. He most certainly wasn’t as bad as Mammon when he was without his glasses or contacts. No, he would never say he was that bad. While not clumsy he knew he could be careless, especially when food was in the picture. He didn’t think twice about eating random things. It did hurt anyone, not physically. Sure, Luke and Satan got a little put out when he swiped something, but it didn’t hurt them.

He just forgets sometimes that you are different. You and he go together so well he forgets that you aren’t a demon. You don’t have the steel stomach or fast recovery time that he has. You make up for it. When you go out to eat you always research the place ahead of time. Does the place have non-enchanted food? Human grade options? If not, you make sure that Beel has his fill before taking him somewhere more appropriate for your stomach. Neither of you thinks about residual contaminants.

His life with you unravels with kisses. It is a slow, inconspicuous death. It builds over time with each brush of his lips to yours. Neither of you notices the taste of magic clinging to his mouth or tongue, neither of you thinks of the implications of all the weird potions and food he samples.

It starts small, you forget simple things about him. When his club activities ended, or what his favorite post-game drink was. He brushes it off, it’s trivial really. You are busy and these things can happen to the best of them. He keeps brushing off the nagging worry until he can’t.

It comes to a head one night at the door to your room. “Beel?” You yawn, pulling your robes closer around you. “What’s up?” You glance down at the box of snacks and pillows in his hands. “Did I miss something?”

“It’s date night.”

Your brows shoot up, facing heating. “What.” You sputter. Beel frowns, placing the box at his feet. With slow movements, he places his hand on your forehead. You were a little warm.

“Mmmmm.” His hearts flutter with nerves. Was his little human sick? He ignores the way you stiffen when he touches you. “Do you need a doctor?” He asks bending down to look you in the eye. He catches a whiff of something when you exhale. It is faint but clings to your breath, it’s sickly sweet and sharp to his nostrils. “You need a doctor.”

Without a second thought, he grabs your arm and drags you out of your room. His food forgotten in the hallway with your protests buzzing in his ears. “Beel...Beel!” You stumble after him. He ignores you each step he takes determined and picks up speed. Before you know it you are sitting next to Gluttony in Purgatory waiting for Solomon, beyond confused and anxious.

You fidget on the couch, peeking glances at the troubled look on the red-heads face. This wasn’t like him. He was a man of few words, sure, but this was new. Beel left you to your devices mostly, a few polite conversations here and there, but you two never hung out a lot. You zone out when he starts talking to Solomon. You were still half asleep from Beel waking you up. You had been sleeping so soundly beforehand. “Are you alright?” You jerk awake unaware that you started dozing again. Solomon crouches in front of you.

“I think so?” You had no idea what this was about. “I’m just tired.” The mage says nothing to you, instead turning to glance at Beel. He jerks his head to the door, a clear signal for the old demon to wait outside.

With one last pitiful glance, Beelzebub leaves the two humans to converse. “Now then.” Solomon rounds his piercing eyes back to you. “Tell me how's your stay in the Devildom?”

You tell him confused but willing to play along with his odd request, the sooner you wrap this up the sooner you can go back to bed. An odd feeling of missing something begins to grow as you tell him. Soon you began to fumble, the harder you try to recount something the harder it was to collect. You still were convinced anything was seriously wrong but the growing look of concern on Solomon’s face was making you think otherwise. “So,” You finish rubbing your knees with sweaty palms. “I’m I dying or something?”

He laughs dismissing the notion with a wave of a well-manicured hand. “No, no your soul is still firmly in place.” He rubs his chin. “But you have lost your memory, only when it comes to Beelzebub though. It is very peculiar. Have you ingested anything weird of late? Done any experiments with Satan?” You shake your head. To the best of your knowledge, you have been really careful with your food intake while down here. Devildom foods were delicious but had potential side effects for you and Solomon.

Solomon nods. He figured that. “Could I draw some blood? It sounds to me like you might have trace contamination of some kind. Diavolo and I discussed that this might happen but I wish to double-check.” Well, that’s worrisome, you nod and begin to roll up your sleeve. Solomon bustles collecting a few vials and a mouth swab for extra measure.

“Thank you.” He smiles looking at the samples with scientific glee. “I will let you know what I find. Until then, I guess just go about your regular day. Unless you feel ill, in that case, come to me immediately.” With that, he leaves you depositing you back with Beel.

The walk back to the House was more subdued, both of you were confused as to what to do next. “So,” You flounder. “We were-are an item?”

He shrugs looking down at you. “Yes. We’d hang out in your room on Saturdays, and get brunch on Sundays... do you still want to?”

You shrug feeling awkward. You felt nothing but platonic friendship to the large demon, though Solomon did fill you in on what you apparently have forgotten. “If you want to? I’m up now, and too nervous to sleep.” Beel grunts clenching his fists at his side.

“No,” He shakes his head. “You should rest, even if you can’t sleep. This is overwhelming. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow?” You feel bad. He sounds so hopeful when he asks, like a good night’s sleep was all you needed to fix whatever this was.

You reach for his big hand and squeeze it. “Sure, Beelzebub. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He lets you go watching you head back into the house. Running on instinct he turns and heads into the dense forest surrounding the house. He needed to hunt for a bit.

That’s how his twin finds him, gorging himself on the fauna of the forest. Belphie’s socked feet pad loudly over the dried grass and scattered bones of the once lush lowlands. “You know Lucifer is going to be pissed. It takes forever for the wildlife to come back after one of your benders.” He tosses his oversized pillow onto the dead grass and lays down. Belphie doses for a moment, the sound of his brother’s many mouths and whistling of wings a white noise to him. Up until an obnoxious locus landed on his nose.

“Beel.” He flicks the bug off his face, shooting the swarm coating his brother’s skin a sour look. “What’s going on?”

Forgot. Me. One of his mouths rattles out, flecks of meat and vegetation falling from between crooked and jagged teeth. Another opens near his rib cage to speak. They. Don’t. Love. Me.

“I’ll kill them.” Already Belphie is back on his feet. He feels for his brother and his plight, but the thought that you betrayed him after you promised to never hurt Beel took precedence. The storm of bugs goes quiet, all the millions of eyes now turn to him. They jerk and twitch in unison before converging back on the mass of leathery gaunt skin of his brother. His human form takes shape slowly, shiny wings and many mandibled skulls melding together to create his flesh.

Beel grabs Belphie’s shoulders. His claws dig into the soft fabric of his nightshirt. “It’s not their fault.”

“Then who?” Beel chuckles weakly at his brother’s blood lust. He couldn’t deny that he felt it too, but he had no idea where to channel this anger.

So he ate. It calmed him a little. If he could get into the village and eat there...no. The last time he siphoned the emotions from the populous at large Lucifer got mad. The whole of the Devildom had to shut down for a good week to recover. He rubs his stomach a feeling of agitation growing in the pits of them. “Don’t know. Solomon is taking a look at it.” Belphie snorts a sneer growing on his lips. “He is helping, Belphie.”

“Sure-right. That boy meddles in all shorts of shit he shouldn’t. Careful he doesn’t try to bargain with your skin for this.” He eyes where your mark rests on his brother. It would be a perfect lure to entrap his twin in a pact.

Hmm.

No, none of this would do. Belphegor would rather die than let some human-like Solomon meddle anymore in his family’s affairs, and as far as he was concerned the moment you started seeing Beel you were as another sibling. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the house. I’ll bring dinner up to our room.”

After settling Beel under the covers of his massive bed Belphie went on the hunt for more food in the kitchen. He stops by your bedroom door picking up the box of goodies still left in front of it. He piles more things into the box when he reaches the kitchen. Swiping up snacks at random Belphie piles the box sky high. His hand stops over a few of your favorite human snacks. Should he? Honestly, it was a blind shot in the dark if it would comfort his brother or not. After a bit more debate Belphie puts the chocolates back, a different idea already turning in his head.

Back in their shared room, he listens to his brother run down the last week between huge bits of sweets. As he recounts every little thing that has gone down they both began to notice just how strange you have been. Both twins sit in the aftermath of Beel’s words, a wasteland of wrapper and silence stretching between them. “Think it will come back?” The twins lock eyes, Beel’s large and unsure but simmering with foolish hope.

“Possibly.” Belphie grits out, breaking their eye contact. He could never lie to his brother, at least not to his face. “Get some rest. I’m sure someone will have a plan in motion by tomorrow.” He’ll set his plans in motion tonight.

Lying in wait some hours later Belphie listens through the walls of the massive house for your quick little human heartbeat in your bedroom. He matches his shallow breaths with yours feeling yourself slip into slumber and his realm. Once you are completely under he drifts off himself.

He enters your dreams and scowls unused to stumbling inside of a dreamscape. Your dreams are muddled and clotted with stick webs of confusion and hazy memories. Odd bits and pieces of images drip around the edges of your mind. This place was a disgusting mess. With a deep sigh, Belphie begins trudging through the quagmire.

He peers around making note of the black holes in your mind like canvas ripped from their frames. Rotten magic assaults him from all sides. Stopping in front of a particularly deep gash in your mind he rolls up his oversized sleeves finding what he was looking for. He knew this memory was in it, just on the outskirts of the scene playing out. He could knit this rip back together easily, after that it should give him some clarity on the others he couldn’t place.

This was going to take a lot of energy. No one would notice if he stole some energy to get things started. Belphie smiles to himself already tapping into Lucifer's dreamscape, taking a bit more than he needed. You deserve only the best after all.

__________________

“Morning everyone.” You chirp plopping down in your chair. The brothers reply with groggy acknowledgments, completely unlike themselves. You look around at the bunch. “Are you all ok?” The group grunts collectively yawning or rubbing their weary eyes.

“Tough night.” Lucifer looks up from his newspaper. He was half-dead in his chair, a cup of coffee shaking in his hands. Asmo sits beside him looking on the verge of tears as he gently pokes his swollen cheeks and eyelids. The only two that seem to even be remotely coherent were the twins. The youngest of the two sleeping oblivious to the turmoil of his siblings while his brother stares at your every move. “Good morning Beel.” You nod feeling awkward in this shared space.

“Morning.” He smiles at you, a few crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth. Something ticks in the back of your mind at his look. A foggy image comes to mind. It feels like a dream, but so real at the same time. It makes you nauseous, a weird sense of dejavu fighting its way to the forefront. “You ok?” He puts a hand on your shoulder.

You blink noticing the room at large turning their gaze to you. You nod, reaching across from him for some leftover food. The moment a bowl of cereal was in your hands Asmo swept you up in a conversation about his “fading” looks. You don’t think of Beel and your predicament for the rest of the day, not until Solomon invites you over to his hall for tea.

“You were poisoned.” He states simply over his sorry excuse of scones. You pause in the middle of trying to break a piece off on the table.

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing to apologize for, unless you did it intentionally.” He laughs. “It appears to be through slow ingestion over a long period of time. The levels in your blood are staggering but not lethal. It looks like the magic took root in the temporal lobe-much like a tumor, really quite fascinating- and has been eating away at the memories of the person, or in this case, a demon that poisoned you.” Beel had been poisoning you? Solomon waves his hand at your look of concern. “I am quite positive that it was not intentional. Mind you he does find the most wondrous things to shovel down his gullet. The fact that it mixed perfectly into a potion instead of a lethal toxic is sheer dumb luck on your end.” You breathe a sigh of relief finally tossing the baked good away as a bad job. Well that's...something. At least you’d be alive to stumble around your apparent “forgotten boyfriend”.

“Any chance of fixing this?”

Solomon shrugs. “Possibly? I need more time to figure out exactly what components are involved in your test results. Then making a tonic to undo all the magic is another thing entirely.”He discusses a few other options with you for a few hours, going over in great detail the ins and outs of potion-making. Soon the windows of the sunroom grew dark, the glow of the lamps outside growing brighter so you could see the pathway back to the house.

“I better head back.” You stretch looking out into the pitch outside. Hmmm, if you remember correctly Levi should be off of work by now. He said to call when he was done to come to pick you up. As if on cue a sharp knock on the door disrupts you. Instead of a shock of blue hair, you are greeted with orange. “Oh-hey Beel.”

“Hey.” The corner of his mouth twitches in a facsimile of a friendly smile. “Ready to go?” He picks up your forgotten school bag and takes your sweater from the coat rack. With a well-practiced motion, he slings the bag over his shoulder and holds your sweater open for you. He obviously did this a lot before…

You stare back wide-eyed at Solomon who only smirks, nodding at you to hurry up.

Out the door and into the chilly night you sneak a peek at Beelzebub walking quietly beside you. He catches your look and raises a brow. “Sorry.” You feel your cheeks heat a little under his thoughtful gaze.

“About?”

“All of this.” You wave at yourself. “Please don’t feel obligated to hang out with me. Until we can get this settled. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

Beel grunts, stopping in his tracks by a low garden wall. “I was hurt-am still hurting.” He admits. “But this isn’t your fault, so what good does it do to blame you for it? Even if you don’t remember me as your partner, you still remember me as a friend...right?” A warm smile spreads across his face when you nod. “Then I’m ok with this. I haven’t lost you completely and even if you don’t ever feel the same way about me anymore, I think I will be ok.”

“I- thank you Beel. That means a lot.”

“Of course.” He hums. “Let’s head back. I think Asmo left some food out.”

You dream of Beel again, a weird amalgamation of scenes all tossed together in a great pile with you in the middle of it. You could do nothing but watch like a film as they rush by you in a blur. Some scenes didn’t line up right, bouncing around like a scratched vinyl, but it still made sense in a way only a dream could. You play out each dream like an actor, the script coming to you naturally with each little venette. You sit outside his locker room, a basket of food and drink in your lap, your heart fluttering in your chest. You and Beel were watching his brothers on the beach, his broad hands rubbing sunscreen into your skin. Beel walking you back to your room after a long night in the library holding your hand in his strong, sure grip. Saturday afternoons spent hopping from one cafe to the next sampling the sweets and drinks to both of your heart's content.

It grips your heart but slips away with the rise of the young morning moon.

When morning comes the night is nothing more than a few smudges in your mindscape. Yet, a light, sweet feeling stays with you. You found yourself smiling more around the redhead and gravitating to him during the day. He accepts you back with a friendly hug and a friendly ear.

He treats you no differently than you remember. It’s nice. Even if a part of your yearns to see how he treated you when you were more than friends.

You begin to get excited for when your head hits your pillow. The dreams become clearer and clearer each night. Some new pieces show up and fall into place as the weeks progress. You start seeing bits of your dreams in the day too. After-images of you hand in hand with him walking down the other side of the street. The taste of something sweet on your tongue or a familiar scent in your nose.

After one particularly vivid dream, you wake determined not to let the contents of this dream slip through your fingers. This time you dreamt of the kitchen, dirty bowls, and units scattered about the cluttered counters. You had been baking something, and failing miserably.

Sneaking down to the kitchens you pull out all the things you could remember. For some reason, this dream lit a fire in you, like it was the last piece of the puzzle to getting it all back. You don’t think, instead, you just let your body take control. You baked a cake.

Well, it was supposed to be a cake. The center was too spongy and collapsed inward while the sides were dark and cracked. The icing was badly blended and melting from the still-warm pastry. It was almost exactly like the one from your dream.

You stare at it waiting for some great revelation, but nothing comes. Great. Now what?

“I smell food.”

“Gods!” You jerk smacking your knee on your bar stool. Beel’s deep voice scaring you half to death. “Should put a bell on you.” You grin. Beel peeks his head through the door brows furrowed.

“This is familiar.” He walks in pulling up another chair to sit next to you.

“Ye?” You look back at him.

“Yes. This was our first kiss.” You drop your icing spoon. “You wanted to surprise me before a big game.” He put a finger through the thick black and purple icing and pops it in his mouth. “Ah- You forgot the bane extract...I had thought that perhaps you remembered.” The hope in his voice stung your chest.

Oh. You look down at the mess you made, whatever feelings of satisfaction are lost. “I thought I was forgetting something, but my dreams are all blurry.”

“Dreams?” Beel pauses reaching for a slice. “You dreamt of this?”

“Yes. Been dreaming about you a lot of late.” You flush. “Little things that are starting to build a bigger picture. I just had this dream of a cake and the urge to make one...so- here we are.” You wave your hand out over the messy kitchen. Sighing plopping your chin down on your palm. “Guess I can sleep on it a bit more huh?” You shoot him a quick wink and sad smile.

“Or just ask Belphie.” He shrugs, taking another large slice of the disaster. “Sounds like he’s been meddling.” That realization hits you like a ton of bricks. Damn, you could have slapped yourself. “I’m sure he meant well, but he shouldn’t force you if you don’t want to. I could tell him to stop.”

What! No! You shake your head. “No. I-I don’t mind it. Solomon has yet to figure anything out, and whatever your brother is doing seems to be helping a little.” Beelzebub said nothing to that and just continued to eat while you started the dishes.

“Do you want to end tonight like we did before?” He asks sometime later, half of the dishes now drip drying in the rack. His long arms box you in on either side holding on to the lip of the sink. His head dips low, his chin resting on the top of your head. Deep down you knew that you could leave at any time. His grip was loose and easily breakable, considerate as ever to your comforts.

You turn to face him, a soft look crosses his face. “And how did it end?” He grins moving closer. You would have to thank Belphie for his interference. Just, perhaps later. You doubted he would want to be in your dreams tonight.

#obey me fan fic #obey me beel x mc #obey me beelzebub #fan fic requests #obey me fandom #obey me

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beskarhearts · 3 years

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The Passenger (Din Djarin x reader)

gif credits @bestintheparsec

Connection series Pt. 14

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings: cursing, canon typical violence/death, ~sexual tension~

Word count: over 11K

Summary: A new passenger joins the Razor Crest crew.

Notes: As always, I hope everyone enjoys this! Please tell me what you all think, your opinions/predictions, and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! (also I didn’t edit this as thoroughly as I usually do but I promise I will later when I have time!!)

Previous Part ____ Next Part

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You looked over at Din and scoffed, placing your arms over your chest as you watch him stumble besides you. “You really should of let me carry something.”

“I am fine.”

“How about I grab a couple of bags to carry?”

“No.”

“You are being stubborn.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m being a gentlemen.”

“A gentlemen wouldn’t be covered in dried Krayt Dragon venom and saliva and goo.” you chirped back and Din sighed. “Although it is quite the look for you.”

Ever since the three of you had been stopped by those scavengers and the speeder bike was destroyed, Din had insisted on carrying everything. The man was so stubborn he tried to carry the child but you had demanded he stay in the pouch on your side. Otherwise, Din was precariously balancing everything you guys had on the bike, hanging bags off a rifle of his which he held on his shoulders. Din was strong but he had been walking like this for hours and it was simply getting ridiculous.

“You know, I am pretty strong. I think I can handle a couple bags.” you said, looking over at him but his head remained aimed straight ahead as he walked through the town. The three of you had just made it back to Mos Eisley and it was now night, the stars twinkling above and the heavy suns of the planet long gone.

“Well, we are here so you don’t need to worry.” Din said, stopping in his tracks as you made it to a cantina.

You looked over at Din and gave him a teasing smirk. “If you are trying to buy me a drink, you should have just said so.”

Din sighed and looked down at you. “Motto will be here.”

“How do you know?” you asked, peering into the doorway of the cantina and not finding her upon first glance.

“She loves to gamble.”

Din walked into the building after that and you followed. Sure enough, Peli was sat in a booth in the back. As you neared, you found an insectoid creature of some kind sat across from her and the pair were intensely focused on a game of Sabacc. You smiled when you saw the cards, remembering how your grandmother had loved playing the game so much and had taught you how to not only play it, but win.

Din made his way to the table, a hulking figure who stood above the two. The insectoid seemed to notice his presence but Peli on the other hand was staring at the board with so much focus that it made you chuckle quietly to yourself.

“I don’t know. Looks like someone’s gonna be goin’ home empty-handed.“ Peli said to the creature across from her. She finally looked up and seemed to notice you and the Mandalorian, raising an eyebrow as she looked over all the stuff he held. Her eyes landed on the helmet and she scoffed. “You finally found a Mandalorian and you killed him?”

“He wasn’t Mandalorian. I bought this armor off of him, though.” Din replied.

“What’d that set you back?” Peli asked inquisitively.

“Oh, just killing a Krayt Dragon. No biggie. He only got swallowed whole by it. Real piece of cake.” you sarcastically said.

Peli raised an eyebrow. “Oh. Is that all?”

“Yeah. Didn’t realize getting it would be so easy. It was practically a vacation.” you mumbled and Peli chuckled at that.

“He was my last lead on finding other Mandalorians.” Din justified.

Before Peli or you had the chance to make another sarcastic comment, the creature began speaking in his native tongue. Peli looked over at him and listened before turning back to the two of you. “Okay. Well, you might be in luck. Dr. Mandible here says he can connect you with someone who can help you, if you cover his call this round. It’s what he said.”

Din looked down at the board and sighed. “What’s the bet?”

“Five hundred.”

Din looked over at you, as if saying ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’. You looked back at the table and inspected the cards. It wasn’t obvious at a first glance but if you really studied where everything was, Peli had the upper hand. As long as the creature didn’t notice the play she was making, she would probably have it.

“That’s a high stakes game.” Din noted.

“Hey, he’s on a winning streak.” Peli said. You raised an eyebrow and looked at her. She gave you a lazy grin, knowing you could see what she was playing at.

Din let out a sigh as the creature began speaking again, the child on your side joining in on the conversation with a small coo. Din reached into his pockets and dropped the credits on the table. You couldn’t help but to silently giggle at the situation. You probably should of warned him so he wasn’t loosing out on credits, but you had to admire Peli.

“Is the pot right?” Peli asked and the creature responded. Peli smirked before putting her card on the table - an Idiot’s Array - and she gave a big, greedy grin. “Ha! Idiot’s Array! Pay up, thorax!”

Din grunted and you couldn’t help to laugh. “I thought you said he was on a winning streak?”

“Oh. Stop your cryin’. You’ll rust.” Peli scoulded.

You let out a big belly laugh at that and Din looked over at you. “You knew?”

You shyly chuckled. “I admire Peli’s initiative. What can I say? Also, we ruined that speeder she gave us so...”

“My speeder is ruined?” Peli asked, her nonexistent eyebrows shooting up to the top of her head.

“You mean the speeder I gave you?” Din asked, tilting her helmet at her. She rolled her eyes and gathered her winnings.

Dr. Mandible spoke again and Peli once again translated. “All right. He says the contact will rendezvous at the hangar.” He added more and Peli continued. “They’ll tell you where to find some Mandalorians. That’s what you wanted, right? All right, well, stop your mopin’. More importantly, did you bring back any of that dragon meat? Better not have any maggots on it. I don’t like maggots.”

You raised an eyebrow and made a disgusted face. “You are going to eat that?”

“Not to sound crude, but there isn’t much I wouldn’t eat. And roasted Krayt Dragon is delicious.” Peli said, looking satisfied at the mere thought of some food. “Also, your kid looks thrilled by the thought as well so don’t be too judgy.”

You looked down at the child, who was admiring the meat that hung off Din’s pack with a slightly awestruck expression, like he was looking at the most beautiful creature. You gave a small chuckle and pat his head, which he cooed to. “Let’s get you some food, kid.”

__________________

The child now looked like he was in love as he watched the dragon meat being roasted by a droid above a fire, which was dripping juices which the child eagerly looked at. You gave a small laugh as he cooed at it, his stubby hands reaching out.

Peli made her way through the door, looking at the droid that was cooking it. “Hey, don’t overcook it, Treadwell! I like it medium rare! I’m not some Rodian, for crying out loud.”

You chuckled as you looked up at Peli, who now faced you and Din. “All right, here’s the deal. A Mandalorian covert is close. It’s in this sector, one system trailing.”

“Are they the ones that left Nevarro?” Din asked.

Peli shrugged. “Don’t know. All I know is that the contact will lead you to them.”

“And what will this cost us? And don’t you dare say we have to kill something or I’ll lose it.” you said.

“Well, that’s the great news. It’s free. Aside from a finder’s fee, of course.” Peli said confidently but you couldn’t help but to notice a weariness from her which caused you to raise your eyebrow.

“What’s the not-great news?” Din asked, seeming just as hesitant as you were.

“Nothing. It’s all great.”

You let out a loud laugh, more like a bark. “Oh, please. The last time something went great for us was...well... Now that I think about it, never.”

“Well, there is one small skank in the scud pie.” Peli hesitantly said, giving you a look you couldn’t quite place.

“Bingo.” you muttered under your breath.

“Which is?” Din asked.

“The contact wants passage to the system.” Peli said.

You raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Do you vouch for them?” Din asked.

“On my life.” Peli said plainly.

Din looked over at you and you let out a sigh. You wanted to be in the ship, just with him and the kid. Try to ignore the mad journey the three of you were on and be alone with Din. But, if this got you where you had to be, so be it. “Fine.” you mumbled.

Din sighed again and went to turn until Peli’s voice broke out again.

“And...no hyperdrive.“

Your head shot up and you looked at Peli with an expression of absolute bewilderment. “What?”

“You want me to travel sublight? Deal’s off.”

Peli huffed at his definitive answer. “It’s one sector over.” she justified but Din shook his head.

“Moving fast is the only thing keeping us safe.” Din explained and you nodded in agreement.

“We might as well just turn ourselves in.” you said but Peli looked exasperated, not seeming to care about your explanation. “Why do we need to travel sublight anyways?”

“These are mitigating circumstances.“

“What do you mean ‘mitigating’?” Din asks.

Motto simply turns around as a creature begins to walk through the door, letting out a croak as she saw you. It was a frog-like creature with two big eyes that stared at the four of you. Her skin was a blend of pinks and purples, and you couldn’t help but to feel your heart soften up as you saw what she had. On her back was a large tank that looked entirely too heavy, filled with what looked like orange eggs that bobbed in the glowing blue liquid within it. She walked over to where you were, seeming to almost smile as she looked between you and Din and Motto.

Din puts his hands on his hips, tilting his helmet to the side and down to look at Peli. “I’m not a taxi service.”

You couldn’t help but to gasp and swat a hand into his shoulder. He looked over at you and you shook your head at him. “What does she need?” you ask.

The lady begins to speak to Motto, who nods. “What is the cargo?” Din asked.

Peli turns to the frog woman, speaking in her language. The woman responds emphatically and you nod along even though you don’t understand a word she is saying. “It’s her spawn. She needs her eggs fertilized by the equinox or her line will end. If you jump into hyperspace, they’ll die. She said her husband has settled on the estuary moon of Trask in the system of the gas giant Kol Iben.”

“She said all of that?” Din said with speculation.

“I paraphrased.” Peli offered with a shrug.

“And she knows there are Mandalorians there?” you asked. You already knew deep down that you needed to help her. She had a tank full of offspring that held the key to her line’s survival. You weren’t technically a mother, but you could identify with her desperate need to protect her children and get them to where they needed to be, before it was too late.

The two women communicated before Peli turned to you. “She said her husband has seen them.”

You nodded, thinking that was enough of a reason to justify bringing her but Din continued. “Do you know the husband?”

“No. I just met her ten minutes before you walked in.” Peli said as if it was the most obvious thing. Meanwhile a droid moved up to her with a plate of meat which she grabbed with a grin.

“I thought you said you vouched for her on your life.” Din sarcastically responded.

She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m an excellent judge of character. That’s why I like this girlfriend on yours.” She grabbed the meat with her hands and placed it in her mouth, her teeth gnawing and tearing away at it. You smiled down at her, letting out a small giggle at her words.

“We can’t.”

Your head once against shot up to look at Din and you huffed. “Watch the kid, Peli.” You said before grabbing onto his arm and dragging him away from the creature and Peli, behind the ship so you two could be hidden away. “Din Djarin!” you whispered and he looked down at you, helmet tilted in confusion.

“What?” he asked and you shook your head in disbelief.

“We need to help that lady.” you said, completely exasperated by the fact that you had to even explain this concept.

“You want us to travel sublight?” Din asked incredulously, like you were saying the stupidest thing in the galaxy.

“The survival of her line is at stake. She has a container full of her potential offspring in there!” You threw your hands up.

“And I’ve got a child and riddur to protect!” He said.

You suddenly froze, your eyebrows shooting up and anger dissipating. “W-what did you just say?” you mumbled and you could feel Din’s whole body lock up with realization.

“I said I have a child and cyar’ika to protect.” He lied dumbly, his hand nervously going to his hips.

“No, you said-”

“We can’t take her.” He interrupted but your mind was still whirring from what you swore you heard him say. You took a moment to calm down your racing heart and focus back on what you were saying.

“We can, technically. And we should, morally.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“But not impossible.” you countered back.

“Are you trying to get us killed?”

“No offense sir, but you are the one who crawled into a Krayt dragons mouth so who here as a tendency to almost get killed?” You sarcastically responded.

Din grunted and you can practically feel him rolling his eyes. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I have a good feeling about this. We can help her and find other Mandalorians. This sounds like a great compromise to me.” You explained and Din sighed. You tried to hold back a smile, not wanting him to know how pleased you were. You could feel him caving in and you knew deep down he would say yes. Din might be a tough Mandalorian, but he was a secret softie deep down and you knew he would always do the right thing.

“Sweet one...” He mumbled and you shot your hands up in victory, wrapping them around his neck to pull him into a tight hug.

“Yes! Thank you!” You whispered as his hands landed on your hips, pulling you away slightly so he could look down at you.

“I didn’t say yes.”

“Oh, please. You surrender. Let’s go let our new friend know!” You excitedly said, trying to turn away but Din’s grip on you remained strong. You looked over at him with confusion. “Din, we should go.”

“We won’t be alone for a while so just give me a minute.”

You shoulders sagged a little at the realization. You and Din hadn’t really had a moment of isolation together in days. You had either been in the middle of nowhere or with Tuskens or with Cobb. No opportunity to be completely comfortable with each other. Now that you thought about it, you had only kissed him once in the last few days. “Oh.”

“We were supposed to be alone after this. Just you, me, and the kid on the Crest.” Din said as he leaned his helmet against your forehead.

“And we will be soon. This will just take a couple days.” You whispered back at him, trying to find some optimism.

Din suddenly squeezed on your hip a little tighter and made you stumble back so you were pressed into the side of the Crest. He leaned into you, his chest plate rubbing against your front. You could feel the rise and fall of each breath he took and it filled you with peace. This wasn’t skin-to-skin contact but it was as close as you had gotten to it in days and it seemed to wake some uncontrollable urge in you. “You said all we had to do was kill the Krayt Dragon and then...” he trailed off purposely, allowing you to remember the moment outside your tents that night. The need you had felt for him and the desperation in his voice.

“You should have known nothing goes according to plan for us.” You muttered and Din pressed into you tighter, causing you to gasp. His helmet dipped down into your neck and you lifted your head up, letting out a small noise at the contact.

“I need you.” You wondered if he meant for you to hear it with how quiet he was but you did and the words sent a shiver down your spine. You brought your hands up to hold onto his shoulders, just clasping onto the beskar that covered them but it felt good to hold him in your hands.

“Din, we need-” your words got caught in your throat as his hands began to drift down, so slowly you barely detected it. “Damn it, Din.” you huffed, starting to get irritated with the effect he had on you.

“What’s wrong, sweet one?” you rolled your eyes at the way he was acting. Like he didn’t know what he did to you.

“Shut up and stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Touching me.” you hissed but Din’s hand started to drift behind you and down.

“You don’t want me to touch you?”

“Yes, I do. But right now is not the time.” He hands rested on the lowest portion of your back and he began to lift the fabric of your shirt up, his gloved hands now planting onto your skin. You hissed at the contact and tried your best to look away from him but he just stared down at you.

“Maybe it is...”

“Din.” you whispered softly.

“Hey, what are you two doing back there?” You and Din jumped away quickly as Peli rounded the corner, looking at you two with a new hunk of meat held in her hands. She seemed to take no notice of the way your skin was flushed or how your shirt now rested a little higher than it had been before. Didn’t see the way your chest heaved and Din’s moved a little quicker than it had before with each breath. Instead she just took a big bite out of her food and looked between you two, mumbling her words through the food in her mouth. “Did you decide?”

Din sighed and looked over at you, as if hoping you could change your mind because of what just happened. Instead you looked away from him and nodded firmly. “Tell that friend of yours we leave soon.”

____________

“Now, I’m gonna ask you to stay strapped in whenever you’re seated. Traveling sublight is a bit dicey these days. Whether it’s pirates or warlords, someone either ends up with a nice chunk of change, or your ship.” Din told the woman who was now sat in the passenger seat where you normally were. You stood in the cockpit now, having offered the seat to her since she had been carrying the tank full of eggs, which now sat in the hull of the ship where the child rested. The frog lady began to speak in her language and you looked over at Din, hoping he was catching it.

“I don’t speak whatever language that is. You speak...Huttese?” He asked and followed it with something in another language that sounded similar to hers but by no means the same. She just stared at him blankly, not understanding a lick of what he spoke. Din looked over at you and you shrugged.

“Sorry. I don’t know frog. Skipped that class.” You responded and Din turned, flicking a switch on the dashboard and sighing.

“So, I’m gonna hit the rack. I’ve set the nav for our course. It’s gonna take a while. I recommend you get some rest.“ He explained to the new passenger and you couldn’t help but to smile. He knew she probably didn’t understand a word but he still explained everything to her, treated her like a person and not a hassle.

Din stood from his seat, heading down the ladder of the ship. You looked at the woman before following him down and gave her a warm smile. “I promise he is a big softie.”

“No, no, no, no, no!” You heard from the hull of the ship and you and the frog woman both looked in the direction of the sound. She started to rise from her seat but you held a hand up.

“It’s okay. Stay here. I’m sure he is just being grumpy or something.” You had no clue what was happening but if it was worrying Din, it wasn’t good. At all. You nervously chuckled before shimmying down the ladder and jumping down into the hull. You looked over at where Din stood hovering above the child.

Your eyes widened at the sight before you. The child was stood right next to the tank full of eggs and held one in his hand, staring at Din as he slurped one of the orange balls right up. “No!” you let out.

Din bended down quickly, closing the lid of the tank and grabbing the child who looked up at you two innocently, as if he wasn’t committing genocide. “That is not food.” Din sternly told him but the child seemed to take no care or notice.

“Oh my god, the kid ate a child.” You murmured quietly so the woman in the cockpit couldn’t hear.

“Technically it’s not fertilized so it’s just an egg.” Din reasoned and you looked up at him in bewilderment.

“You say that like that’s better.” You screeched in bewilderment and Din chuckled at the expression on your face.

“Sweet one, it’s okay.”

“I thought he kept looking at the eggs cause they were glowing and a fun color! Not because he wanted to end a whole line of creatures.” You whisper-yelled, feeling your voice rise. The child actually had the audacity to smile up at you and you swore your eyebrows shot all the way up your forehead.

“We will just make sure it doesn’t happen anymore. It was a one time thing.” Din explained and you nodded slowly, eyes still trained onto the child who seemed to be having a great time, a small yawn escaping his lips. Oh yeah, must be tired from eating a child. “Let’s go to bed.”

You paused as Din started to head towards his cot. He doesn’t realize you weren’t following after him until he placed the child down in his hammock and looked over at you. You smiled up at him almost guiltily. “Cyar’ika, what’s wrong?”

“Well, you see, I was going to sleep in the cockpit.”

Din tilted his helmet and planted a hand on hip. “What?”

“I want to keep her company. She is probably so lonely and scared.” You said with a little frown.

“She is an adult.”

“Yes, but I remember my first night on this ship. Back when we didn’t know each other and you were just some strange man. It was kind of... unnerving.”

“So, you are going to sleep up there?” Din questioned and you nodded.

“Yeah. Keep her some company. A friendly face, y’know?”

Din let out a sigh and shook his head. “You are a good person.”

You smiled at the compliment and walked over to him, resting a hand on one of his biceps and squeezing it reassuringly. You felt silly doing so but you planted a small kiss on his helmet, like you would kiss his cheek if you were allowed to see it. “Goodnight.”

“Good night, sweet one.”

You gently grabbed a blanket on your way up the ladder, pulling yourself up into the cockpit to still find the frog lady awake. She turned back to look at you and jumped as she heard you but you just help a hand up, trying to indicate everything was fine. “I thought I’d keep you company.” She just stared back at you blankly and you shrugged. “Even though you can’t understand anything I’m saying.”

She finally said something in her native language and you cocked your head, trying to see if you could understand even one little part of it but failing to do so. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” you said solemnly and she seemed to comprehend that you didn’t know a word she was saying as well. You slowly brought the blanket in your hand up and towards her. “Are you cold? I know this ship can be colder than Hoth sometimes.”

The woman seemed to understand that at least, bringing one of her webbed hands out to grab onto the blanket and pull it over her lap, giving you a gracious smile which you returned happily. You then made your way into the drivers seat and plopped down on it, sighing in relief. You and Din had been so busy the last few days and you hadn’t even realized how much it had beaten down your body, exhausting you in every way. It wasn’t until you sat down that you felt the deep ache in all your muscles and bones and the fatigue that washed over you. You looked over at the woman again whose eyes were finally closed and she seemed to be drifting into sleep very quickly. You smiled as you saw the blanket wrapped around her and nodded to yourself, glad you came up. You couldn’t do much but you figured this was a kindness you could show her that she could possibly understand.

You rested your head back completely, letting your eyes slip close and you began to drift off quickly.

____________

Wake up.

Your eyes shot open instantly and you jerked upwards in the seat, feeling your hands shake at the loud voice that rang through the cockpit. You looked over at the creature in the passenger seat, expecting her to be awake from how loud the voice was but she was still fast asleep, like she hadn’t heard a thing. You whipped your head around the cockpit but found nothing out of place. You felt crazy. You swore you had heard a female voice as clear as day, so loud it woke you up. It had sounded so familiar as well...

You tried to shrug it off, allowing your half asleep body to fall back into the seat. You closed your eyes, ready to slip back into the deep sleep you were in when it called out again.

Wake up.

What the kriff? You now stood up this time and looked around even more, trying to find the tiniest hint that something was up. But once again, you saw nothing out of the ordinary and certainly no woman standing in the room. You walked away from the chair, making sure to step lightly as to not wake up the passenger. You began to slip down the ladder, determined to find a source of the noise that didn’t just include you being crazy. You looked over at where Dins cot was, but the hatch to it was closed and he was probably dead asleep in there, more worn out then you even were from the last few days. You looked over at the refresher, but even that was empty, along with the hull. The only new thing was the glow of the tank of eggs on the floor. You shook your head, starting to turn around when you heard the voice again.

“Shit, this is harder than it seems.” The voice was coming from behind you, this you knew definitively. You also knew one thing for sure. The voice was one you completely recognized in every way, knew it like the back of your hand. It was warm and wise, but also a little crackly like it was aged. Your heart began to slam in your chest. That was your grandmothers voice. Clear as can be and it was coming behind you. You could also see a blue glow begin to illuminate the room but you couldn’t bare to turn around. You were imagining this, or at the very least dreaming. This wasn’t real and it would just hurt. “Gee, it’s been how many years and you can’t even give me a good look? I’m not naked or anything.”

You closed your eyes as you felt your emotions overwhelm you. It sounded so much like her; the inflection of her tone and the sarcastic nature that intertwined with everything she said. “I’m dreaming.” You muttered out loud, trying to break yourself away from the cruelty of it but you find yourself shocked when a laughter filled the hull. One that sounded easily like yours, just a little older.

“I come back to see you after all these years and you call me a dream. I ought to be offended. Or maybe it’s a compliment...”

You had to look. Maker forbid it was her and you didn’t look. You began to slowly turn around, your feet seeming to be made of lead and feeling so heavy with every step you took to turn completely. Once you finally did, you allowed your eyes to squint open and there she was. She looked like her, just like she had the last day you saw her, except it looked like she was projection or hologram, a blue haze surrounding her and seeming to wash over the any color. You opened your eyes completely as you watched her smile as you brightly, the kind of smile that had aways made you feel so worth it. “H-how is this... is this r-real or am I c-c-crazy?” You could barely speak as you stared at her, seeing the way she swayed slowly where she stood, like she had always done. She had driven your mother crazy because she always had to be moving, never could stay still. Everything she did screamed that it was her but you were still so hesitant.

“Oh, yeah. It’s me. This whole force ghost thing is a lot harder than it looks though.”

“Force ghost?”

“You know what happens when we all pass. We become part of the Force.” She said with a beautiful grin, the kind that could ease any worries.

“What are you doing?” You asked and she chuckled at the way you awkwardly mumbled it.

“I needed to talk to you.”

You paused to look at her as she continued to stand before you. You stepped forward to get closer, getting a proper look at her. You couldn’t help but to smile as you looked at every wrinkle, every strand of hair braided away, every breath she took. It was like she was right there before you. Like you could reach out and touch her. Part of you almost did but you didn’t want to do so and realize she wasn’t actually physically there.

“You thought we didn’t keep an eye on you, kid? Of course we did.” She said with a knowing nod and you felt a warmth bloom in your chest. You always liked to think they were watching, but bearding your ideas be confirmed brought you so much peace. “And may I just say, you have been having quite the time.”

You suddenly realized that she must know everything. About Din and the child. About how you were in love with Din and he knew what you were. She must have sensed the sudden change in your demeanor and she looked at you with a soft smile. “Don’t worry, my little one. I’m very happy for you.”

“You know-”

“Everything?” you look at her and nod dumbly to which she grins. “Oh, yeah. Everything. I mean I had to keep an eye on you. And trust me, I was none too pleased about a Mandalorian at first. But this one seems alright.”

She said the last part with a soft smile, the kind that expressed how he was more than just alright. You smiled up at her and decided to let the shock wash away. Even if this was just a dream or a extremely vivid hallucination, you wanted to enjoy this. “Yeah. I guess he is alright.” you said with a smirk to which she nodded. “Are... are you guys okay?”

She let her shoulders sag slightly, looking at you softly. “You need to stop blaming yourself.”

“I just-”

“You tried your best.”

“I’m sorry.” you blurted out.

“There is no need to be sorry.”

“You sacrificed yourself to save me.” You told her, now exasperated. You were working on accepting what happened but you couldn’t hear her say there was no need to be sorry. That is was okay.

“And you nearly died trying to protect me.” She retorted and you rolled your eyes.

“And I failed.”

“No. You did so well you nearly killed yourself.” She told you and you looked away from her stern gaze, the same one she gave you when she was teaching you an important lesson.

“You should of ran away. You would of lived.” You softly said, crossing your arms over your chest as you blinked your eyes quickly, not wanting to cry. She had already seen you so weak and damaged before. She didn’t need to see it again.

“I was an old woman who had lived long enough. I knew saving you with the Force would take everything out of me but it was worth it. I mean, look at your life. It has only just begun.” you heard the softness and kindness, but also the demanding, authoritative tone. The kind of voice that was going to tell you how it was and not accept any other answer. Her voice suddenly dropped. “Did you read it?”

You froze and stared at her with a bewildered expression, barely sputtering out “W-What?”

“The letter, kid. Did you read it?” she asked again.

You shook your head. “No. Maker, no.”

“Why not? I always told Mai to tell you if anything ever happened. You need to read it.”

“Tell me what?” you asked.

“K-kid-” Her holographic-like appearance started to fade away slowly.

“No, please. C’mon, stay.” you begged, feeling like a child as tears started to well up in your eyes.

“Read it.” was the last words spoken by her before she faded away completely, the hull of the ship going back to complete darkness.

You let out a shaky breath, looking down to find your hands trembling. You grabbed onto a crate, sitting down on it and letting your whole body sag. Your heart was racing a mile a minute, along with your mind. You still weren’t entirely convinced what had happened was real, and not a figment of your imagination or some complex dream. But she had seemed to real. Like she was there and close enough to touch. When she spoke to you, it was her. All the little quirks and the inflection of her tone had been identical to the woman you missed so much.

Your eyes slowly trailed from the spot on the floor you had been to looking at to the corner of the ship, where your bag laid. You could see the crumbled paper on top of it. What the hell was so important? If that was real, why had your grandmother done that just to tell you to read a letter? If it was so important, she should of tone you. If not back then, at least now she should have.

You should read it. You know that deep down. You started to rise slowly from your seat you took on the crate, you legs still trembling as you took one small step. You were about to take another when a small croak filled the space. You turned around to find the frog lady’s head peaking down from the cockpit, looking down at you. You made eye contact and she let out another small croak.

“You okay?” you quietly asked.

She let out another croak and her eyes followed the container of eggs that sat in the hull. You looked over at it and smiled softly. “They are okay.” you said, giving her a small thumbs up in hopes she understood that.

Another croak was let out and you sighed. “I’m coming up. Let’s go back to bed.”

You gave the letter one last glance before making your way to the ladder of the cockpit, climbing up it slowly.

____________

You had been wide awake when a small beeping sound began ringing out through the cockpit, emitting it’s way into the rest of the ship. You looked over at the frog woman to find her still asleep, seeming to be undisturbed by the noise as small snores that sounded like small croaks left her. Your head turned back to the dash of the ship, looking at all the buttons and controls. You eyes met the comm and you raised an eyebrow, looking out the window to see nothing out of the ordinary.

A clanking of metal rang out and you looked back at Din who pulled himself into the Crest. You slowly brought a single finger up to your lip, indicating for him to be quiet as your head gestured to the frog lady. “She’s still asleep.”

Din nodded. “What happened?” he softly asked.

You shrugged, pulling yourself out of the drivers seat so he could slip into it. “Wasn’t us. I think it’s someone trying to comm you.”

Din grunted and a small smile made it’s way onto your face. You were sure he was pleased to not only be woken up, but woken up by somebody trying to talk to him. Din flicked on the comm as you rested a hand on his shoulder. Part of you had wanted to crawl into his cot after the bizarre happenings from earlier. Let his arms envelop you and spread a warmth through your body you had never felt before. But you decided against it, still feeling it was best to stay with the new passenger and let Din sleep.

“Razor Crest, M-One Eleven. Come in, Razor Crest. Do you copy?” a voice rang out into the pit.

You once again looked back at the lady, seeing her still asleep and funny enough, it slightly reminded you of the child. Sometimes he’d wake up at the slightest noise. You could make one step and he wouldn’t fall asleep for the rest of the night. But other times, he could sleep through anything. A TIE fighter could probably soar past and he’d still peacefully sleep through it, like nothing was happening.

“This is Razor Crest. Is there a problem?” Din asked. Your hand tightened onto his shoulder and he leaned into it slightly.

“We noticed your transponder is not emitting.” The man spoke again.

“Yes, I’m pre-Empire surplus. I’m not required to run a beacon.”

“That was before. This sector is under New Republic jurisdiction. All craft are required to run a beacon.” You raised an eyebrow, looking over at Din who just shrugged.

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll get right on it.” he responded.

“Not a problem. Safe travels.”

“May the Force be with you.” You looked over at Din, both eyebrows raised high as you nearly laughed. You had never even heard the man say that once. If anything, you were convinced that he used to not believe if the Force, thinking it was a whole bunch of gibberish until the kid walked into his life.

“And also with you.” the man responded, cutting out.

“May the Force be with you?” you quietly asked, smiling down at where he sat.

“Isn’t that what they say?” Din said, his hands landing on your hips softly as he turned his seat towards you.

“Yeah but I’ve never heard you say that.” You nearly yelped when he pulled you down onto his lap with his hands still clutching onto you. You tossed your head over to look at the frog lady who was still asleep. “Mando, she is right there.”

“Say my name.”

You looked at him with a soft smile, placing a kiss on his helmet which made him let out a small hum that filled your heart with joy. “Din, she is right there.”

Din let out another small noise, pulling you closer onto him. “I don’t care. I miss sleeping in a bed with you.”

“Me too. But we will-”

The beeping resumed, interrupting you. You let out a small whine, slipping off of Din’s lap and warm embrace as he turned towards the comm. Before flipping it on, Din let out an aggravated grunt.

“Just one more thing.” The man’s voice from earlier rang out into the ship again.

“Yes?” Din curtly said, shaking his head.

“I’m gonna need you to send us a ping. We’re out here sweeping for Imperial holdouts.”

Your head whipped over to look at Din, his helmet still trained forwards. You couldn’t send out a ping.

“I’ll let you know if I see any.” Din responded but you knew it wouldn’t be good enough. They were going to insist.

“I’m still gonna need you to send us that ping.” the man countered.

“Well, I’m not sure I have that hardware online.” Din said but even you could see through that lie.

“We can wait.”

Din finally looked at you, seeming to be contemplating what his options were. You slowly mouthed ‘what do we do?’ but Din seemed to settle on a decision shortly. “Yeah...I...I...doesn’t seem to be, uh, working.”

“That’s too bad. If we can’t confirm you’re not Imperial, you’re gonna have to follow us to the outpost at Adelphi. They’ll run your tabs.”

Fuck, no. No. You couldn’t stop at Adelphi. You had this women’s eggs and the child and Din.

“Oh, wait. There it is. Transmitting now.” Din said but you just saw him flip the auto-pilot switch off. You stepped back, leaning against the wall in anticipation of what was next.

The frog lady then decided it was a good time to wake up, letting out a loud croak as she looked over at you two. “Be quiet!” you and Din both simultaneously whispered at her.

“What was that?”

“Uh, nothing. The hypervac is drawing off the exhaust manifold.” Din excused, but you rolled your eyes. Din knew his way around a ship well enough to know that was a shit excuse.

The frog lady continued croaking, not seeming to catch a hint. Din looked over at her and you could feel the annoyance radiating off him. You snapped your fingers, bringing her eyes to look at you and held your finger up to your lips, trying to gesture to her to be quiet. But she didn’t seem to catch a hint, croaking back at you and bringing her own finger up to her mouth in confusion.

“Carson, can you switch over to channel two?” Another man’s voice spoke out, causing the woman to finally quiet down as she looked at the comm where the source of the noise came from.

“Copy.” the other man spoke.

You looked at Din, seeing his hands ghost over the accelerator. “Oh, shit. Hold on.” you said, clutching onto the passengers seat.

Din hit it, beginning to soar through the galaxy at a terrifying speed that made the frog lady begin wailing in fear. You held on tightly, feeling your body plop down onto the ground from the abrupt change in speed. Din suddenly began dropping to a nearby planet, causing your butt to lift off the ground and the frog lady begin to croak with a very anxious tone. Din soared over the clouds as the cockpit to the ship began to shake.

“Mando, this isn’t good!” you yelped but Din paid no mind to your words.

“Razor Crest, stand down. We will fire. I repeat, we will fire.” A man warned and you cursed.

Din whipped around a corner, pulling the ship which caused it to tremble even more. “The Crest can’t handle this!” you called.

“It’s going to have to.” Din grunted, bringing his hands off the accelerator. You let out a deep breath until you saw him turn the engines off.

“Mando!”

The ship instantly began to plummet, dropping down into the clouds and revealing more of the icy planet Din had flown so close to. The frog lady began to full-on scream, her voice filling the cockpit and drowning out any thoughts you had. Glaciers began to finally fill the view of the pit and Din then engaged the engines again, flying down into a canyon.

“Oh, fuck. Are we going to die?” you yelled.

Din continued to fly through the canyon, narrowly avoiding jagged icicles that could easily shear into the metal of the ship. “Come on, Razor Crest, don’t make us do it.” a man spoke again.

The Crest whipped around a bend and straight towards a cavern which the back side of the ship slams into, causing all three of you to grunt. You looked up at Din, seeing his chest fall and rise quickly. You realized he was just as nervous as you, just more quiet about it. “Hold on.” he said.

“Oh, now we have to hold on...” you muttered sarcastically, grabbing onto the chair even more (which you didn’t think was possible). You tried to anchor your feet onto the ground, still sitting on the floor and thinking how the Crest needed a third seat. The frog lady responded with a grunt and croak and you thought how she was probably regretting getting on this ship.

The Crest began to slam into more glaciers, causing the ship to shake and all of your to jerk about. It then began to slide along a sheet of ice. Din tried to turn on the engines so it could shoot up but it it just slammed into more ice until coming to a stop under an overhang.

Din began panting, along with you, relieved that the ship was hidden away and had finally stopped moving. You couldn’t help but to notice the chill that had filled the ship, your body shivering and the hair on your arms begin to stand up. You hesitantly let go of the arm of the chair, wrapping yourself up with your own arms as you tried to not let yourself dwell too much on the cold.

“I’ve lost visual. He’s got to be around here somewhere. You head north. We’ll cover more ground.” The voice barely crackled through the comm, cutting out which was a good sign. Meant they were far enough.

“Fucking hell.” You muttered, looking at Din who was pushing and flicking an assortment of buttons.

“You okay, sweet one?” Din asked, finally looking over at you.

You smiled weakly. “Oh, just dandy.”

“And your friend?”

You looked over at the frog lady, who was gasping and groaning, beginning to rise from her seat. “I think she is just worried about her eggs.” you softly said.

Before you could ask how he was, loud cracks filled the space. It took you a second to realize it was the ice which meant...

You couldn’t warn Din of what was to come before it was too late and the ship broke through the ice, dropping down. You could hear everything in the ship tumbled about and your mind instantly went to the child. Oh, shit. He was probably in his bed with the door shut but you felt fear consume you entirely. The ship suddenly dropped down, causing everyone to slam forward. The last thing you felt was a sharp pain your in your head before everything turned back, your body falling back.

____________

Din let out a loud groan as he slowly blinked his eyes. His whole body was aching and his back was screaming in pain. His mind felt groggy and clouded as he slowly lifted his helmet from where it had landed. He blinked more quickly as he shook his head, letting out more grunts as he tried to become more aware. Last thing he remembered was falling and the frog lady’s screaming. And his cyar’ika...

“Fuck.” Din grunted, whipping his head around (not the best choice on his part) and looking down. He dropped from the chair, crawling down on the small space of the floor where she laid as flecks of snow fell off him. A large bruise was already forming on her head, probably from slamming into the back of his chair or something. She hadn’t been in a seat so she had taken the brunt of the force. Din felt his hands shake as he clutched her, pulling her closer to his chest and leaning her head against it, patting softly at her hair. “Sweet one, wake up. Please be okay.”

Din felt instant relief flood through him as she grunted, her eyes barely opening and seeming to not register what was in front of her. She let out a small cough and Din felt her whole body was shaking, whether from the crash or from the cold he didn’t know. Din held on tighter to her, bringing his cape over his body so some of it could drape over her. “Cyar’ika, are you okay?”

She groaned again, her eyes now blinking some more as she began to make out the shape of his helmet. Behind him he heard the frog lady begin to croak and groan in a painful manner, bringing herself up with the assistance of the chair. Din didn’t look over though, his eyes trained on the woman in his arms. “F-fuck.” she finally muttered, her eyes looking up at him as she slowly brought a hand up to rub at the bump on her head.

“I’m sorry, sweet one.” Din said, pulling her closer and feeling guilty as he saw the injury on her head. He slowly let a hand graze her cheek.

“I hate this ship.” She sputtered. Din let out a small chuckle, glad to see one of the corners of her lips quirk up into the lopsided smile he had come to love so much. “And you are good at crashing this thing.”

“Are you okay?” Din asked.

Her eyes looked up at his softly until her whole body jerks and her eyes widen, a terror stricken look coming over. She suddenly pulled away, flopping over to her hands and knees so she start to stand up, her legs shaking. “The...the kid!”

“Sweet one, sit down. You probably have a concussion and you-” Din couldn’t finish before she was flailing down the ladder of the cockpit, thumping on the ground with a groan. Din rose from his spot on the floor, looking over to see the frog lady looking at him, croaking in distress. Din sighed, realizing she was I’ll find your eggs, don’t worry. Gotta get you some blankets, keep you warm.”

Din dropped down the ladder, letting out a loud groan as he saw a huge hole through the side of the Crest, letting into a flurry of snowflakes. Sparks flew from various areas of the ship and everything was coated in a layer of snow and ice. It couldn’t have been more than a couple hours that they had been passed out, but the temperature of the ship had dropped considerably and the layer of ice proved how dangerous this terrain was. “Damn it.”

The frog croaked again from the cockpit and Din sighed. “Hang on, I’m looking for your eggs!”

“No! How?” He suddenly heard his cyar’ika speak. He looked over to see her standing up barely, her whole upper half hunched forward as a hand held back a piece of cloth. Din made his way over, making it to her side to find the child with the egg canister and... dammit, an egg in his hand.

“No. No... I told you not to do that.” Din scolded, bending down to close the canister and picks it up. He looks over to find his cyar’ika with a bewildered expression on her face, staring down at the child in disbelief who innocently looks up.

“We crash. Nearly die. And this kid is eating children like nothing happened! Look at him, he looks fine!”

Din also felt a little shocked as he looked down at the child, who appeared to have sustained no injuries nor shock from the events, just holding onto one single egg. He looked as happy as ever, perhaps a little disappointed his favorite snack had been taken, but no signs of distress otherwise

The frog lady croaked again and Din looked to find his cyar’ika whimper. “We found them!” Din called out.

“We have to tell her that our kid is a murderer.” Din tried to ignore the way his heart warmed at the way she said ‘our kid’, instead opting for a small smile she couldn’t see.

“He isn’t a murder-” Din was cut off with a slurping noise, looking down as the child swallowed the egg whole. “How many did you eat?”

The child let out a small burp as he swallowed down the egg.

“What were you saying?” she sarcastically said, looking over at Din with a critical expression.

“It’s fine.”

“She is going to notice her children are missing! Her poor little baby eggs! They had their whole lives ahead of them...” she trailed off with a small whimper.

Din sighed. “You grab the child. Let’s bring her the eggs.”

Din began to walk back to the cockpit, hearing her scold the child she now held in her arms. “You did a very bad thing. Very bad. I know they are a fun color but they aren’t a snack! They are little baby eggs and you are eating them like a monster. Oh Maker, you don’t even understand me, do you? Or you don’t care cause you are a tyrant...”

Din couldn’t help but to chuckle as he listened in.

____________

“Are you okay?”

“If you ask that one more time, I will fight you. And I promise you that it will be very embarrassing to be beaten by a concussed mechanic.” You said with a small smile, staring at the bunch of wires you were twiddling away with. The Crest was a disaster, no other way to put it. There was no way you would be able to put it back to normal by yourself or with the limited amount of tools at your disposable. This would be a job for a mechanic whose talents far exceeded your own. Your goal was just to make the ship flyable at the very least and make sure it didn’t explode into a million pieces even if the ship could make it off the ground.

“I’m being serious.” Din said softly, crouching down to bend next to you. You looked over, gazing lovingly into his visor and brought your hand up to pat at it. Din had been manically asking you if you were okay and how you were ever since the crash from earlier. You definitely sustained a concussion and one of your ankles had a sharp shooting pain that ran through it and was very possibly broken. Not having been in a seat when the accident happened was a big mistake on your part but what was done was done. You had wanted to focus your efforts immediately on fixing the ship and helping Din repair as much of the damage as possible, despite his desperate pleading for you to lay down and not move an inch. You had won that argument but Din kept sending long glances your way and rushing to your side if the slightest whimper left your lips. You wouldn’t admit it as to not embarrass him, but it was perhaps the most endearing thing you had ever seen.

“I am fine. My head hurts a little but it’s okay.”

“I mean, besides the head. You seem off.”

The crazed events of the day so far had combined with the events of the night before to create an almost nauseatingly overwhelming sensation through your whole body. You couldn’t even begin to think about what had happened without feeling so completely perplexed. Part of you was still convincing yourself it had been a dream. It wasn’t your grandmother, but a mere fragment of your mind playing cruel games with your emotions. But it had seemed so real and you couldn’t stop thinking about it, even with how busy you were trying to keep your mind preoccupied with the ship and making sure the child didn’t commit any more genocide.

“I had a weird dream or something... Guess it’s still on my mind.” you mumbled, shrugging.

“What was it?”

“It was... just my grandmother and the letter.” your voice drifted off as your eyes widened. “Shit! The letter!”

You hadn’t even thought to look for the letter once the ship was damaged. But there had been a gaping whole in the side of it with winds coursing through, winds that could of snatched the letter away before you had the chance to read past the first paragraph. You tried to jump up from the spot on the floor where you had been sat but your body fumbled on the way up, your face scrunching up in pain as you put pressure on your ankle.

“Sweet one, be careful.”

“I need to make sure the letter is still here. And my bag. Oh Maker, my bag!” you yelped. The frog lady sat in the ship looked up, croaking in confusion as to your newly frazzled state.

You waved your hand at her and began to limp towards where your bag had been, wincing every time your ankle even grazed the ground. “Your ankle is broken.”

“Meh, it’s not.” you grunted, trying to hide your pained expression but Din stayed by your side, keeping his hands close to your body in case you fell. Once you reached your bag, you let out a sigh of relief when you saw the crinkled paper, sitting there with a light coating of snow layered over it’s folds. You slowly dropped to your knees, grabbing the letter and lightly dusting away the cold flakes. “Okay. Good.”

“Are you going to read it?”

You shoved the letter back into your bag and shook your head. “Not right now. One day though.”

“You sure?” Din asked.

“Yeah. Now isn’t the time.” you began to rise from your spot, trying your best to apply as little pressure as possible to your ankle. But despite your best efforts, your head was spinning from some of the sudden movement and you tumbled forward, landing on your ankle. You let out a loud hiss. “Dank farrik!”

Din rushed to you, grabbing onto and pulling you up slowly. He let out a grunt and murmured, “What were you saying about it not being broken?”

“Shut up.” you muttered, allowing Din to lead you to the small cot you had once used as a bed so he could set you down. “No. I need to work!”

“You need to rest. We all do.” Din commanded, laying your blanket over you softly.

You shook your head, letting out a grunt. “Bah, rest is for the weak.”

“You have a concussion and broken ankle.”

“You say that one more time, tin can.” you warned, aiming a somewhat playful finger at him.

Before Din had the chance to speak, the child who had been sat on the floor let out a loud coo that captured your attention. You looked over at him to find him waddling towards your outstretched legs, big eyes looking up at you in concern. “I’m fine, little guy.” you cooed back, feeling your heart warm a little from his adorable expression.

The child let out another garbled noise, eventually reaching your feet and resting a hand on your injured ankle. You let out a small hiss at the contact, expecting the child to pull back but he looked back at you with a look you an inexplicable look. You had always felt a deep connection with the little one, one that sometimes confused you. Part of you hoped it was just that you two had a natural inclination towards each other but another knew deep down it had to do with the Force. Perhaps it was simply because you were the first person he had seen in who knows how many years who had the same thing he did. Or maybe it was the mysterious way of the Force that brought you two together. But as you looked at him and felt his little three-fingered hand settle onto the skin of your ankle, you felt a peace and understanding wash over you that felt deeply shared.

The next thing you felt was a deep warmth throughout your ankle. Not the sharp heat that accompanied the pain like you had been feeling but a beautiful warmth, like a hug from a person you loved or the sun on the first day of summer. You didn’t know how long the child had done it for. Whether it was a minute or multiple minutes or only mere seconds but once his little hand pulled away, you felt like you had been broken out of trance.

You blinked a few times dumbly as the kid wobbled slightly and landed on his butt, his eyes drooping as he let out a small yawn. “The kid just-just...”

“Yeah. He has done that before.”

You whipped your head around to look at Din. “He has?”

Din nodded. “I think it’s his magic powers or something.”

You looked back at the child. No pain longer radiated throughout your ankle. You rotated it with ease, no sharp throbbing accompanying the movement like it had been. It was as if nothing had even happened. You didn’t know exactly what is was called but you knew the child had used the Force to heal you. You couldn’t even begin to comprehend how but the sensation you had felt was one you had experienced before. One your Grandmother had used on you when you were on the brink of death. One that had taken everything from her.

But the child that sat before was fine. Tired but seemed perfectly healthy and even gave you a small smile as you continued to look at him. “He really is powerful.” you mumbled under your breath.

“I’m going to get the frog lady from the cockpit. We all need to rest and eat.” Din said.

You nodded dumbly, eyes still trained on the child as Din rose from his spot on the floor and made his way to the ladder.

____________

“If you hadn’t guessed, we’re in a tight spot.” Din stated as he tidied up a few small things. The frog lady that sat across from you in the hull stared plainly up at him, her tongue whipping out in a flash to catch food from the container that Din had given her.

You let out a small sigh as Din continued. “The main power drive is not responding, and the hull has lost its integrity. I suspect the temperature will drop significantly when night falls.”

“Pretty much this is a complete and utter shit show in every way.” you said, huddling further into the blankets Din had given you. Despite your ankle being healed by the child, he had insisted on you relaxing for the rest of the night, stating how he could handle the last few things on his own.

You looked over at the kid who sat next to you with a small box of food in his lap. But instead of eating it quickly like he normally did, he practically swooned as he stared at the container of eggs that sat next to the frog lady. You let out a scoff and tapped his little arm, but not even that could break him from the trance of his new-found favorite snack. “Stop being a demon.” you whispered at the child, giving the frog lady a guilty smile as she looked over at you.

“I’ll have a better idea of our prospects tomorrow.” Din continued. You wondered if he was speaking to the frog lady in hopes she could understand or just to fill the space, clear his thoughts. Either way, the sound of his voice made a soft smile dance across your lips as he finally brought himself down to the floor, sat closely next to you. The child waddled over to him as you felt his thigh brush against your leg and his shoulder press into you. He leaned his head back against the wall of the ship, letting out a small sigh.

“Mando.”

“Yes?”

“I lo-”

You were interrupted by the frog lady letting out a loud croak, gesturing to her eggs as she continued to speak. Your face softened as you saw her concerned expression and you couldn’t understand the words, but there was passion behind them.

“I’m sorry, lady. I don’t understand Frog. Whatever it is, it can wait until morning. I recommend you get some sleep.“ Din said. The child crawled onto his thigh, settling into the armor. The frog lady let out a defeated croak, bringing a blanket to her container of eggs to wrap it, protectively patting it.

You gave her a soft smile. “I’m sorry but I promise we are trying our best.”

She let out another small croak, settling back into her space and closing her eyes as a hand stayed on her container of eggs. You also leaned back, looking over at Din. You watched his chest rise and fall evenly, falling into a slow pattern that you admired. You brought a hand out from your blanket, sneaking into over to Din’s hand that rested against the floor. You gently grazed his gloved fingers and Din made the next move, his warm leather hands grabbing onto your own and intertwining the fingers. You smiled softly as you let him pull you just slightly closer to him, his hand squeezing yours in a way that made your heart burst. Your eyes drifted to the child, who was now tucked into the beskar plate on Din’s thigh and sleeping away peacefully.

“Sweet one?” Din whispered out and you looked up at him to see his helmet tilted down to look at you.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Tag List: @ilikethoseodds @dindaddy @poguesvixen @starspangledwidow @fangirlalexia @the-scandalorian @ka-x-in @keepcalmandblogstuff @the-lady-of-stars @orneryscandalousevil @spaghetti-666 @afootnoteinyourhappiness @the-darkempress @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @dee-vn @eury-dice3 @rb4writers @just-me-and-my-obsessions00 @lxdyred @queen-since-97 @honey-hi @periptill @seninjakitey @guiltyegg @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @altarsw @itsaviicf @greeneyedblondie44 @buffnatalieportman @tanzthompson @archaeoheart @wintrrrsoldier @welcometothepedroverse

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spaced0lphin · 3 years

Note

5, 11, 23!

5 has been answered, so: 11. Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn't? Why? It's not that I like Jacob, because I don't, but in a weird way I like what they do with him. I like that he's genuinely aloof, it stands in contrast to a lot of the other characters, including other characters I've already mentioned to death who I feel are falsely aloof. Jacob to me is a distant person whose focus and goals are kind of elsewhere, and that's very unusual in that universe where it comes to Shepard. If he's successfully romanced (which is pretty hard to do, having looked at his entire romance conversation tree... if Shepard shows any inklings of actually treating him like a person as opposed to a hunk of meat, he dumps her in like five different ways, it's crazy) then it turns out that he just wasn't that into Shepard. Shepard was a fling to him, and his real interests lie with this other character. He kind of cheated on her with Shepard. Don't get me wrong... I feel bad for the people who are really into Jacob and wanted some kind of ongoing thing with him. That has got to really suck to be emotionally invested and then get that for your reward... Telegraphed in some ways as it perhaps was...? There's also the whole, 'he's the only explicitly black squadmate and he's the one who ends up sort of being a bit of a fuckboy and also has absentee father issues...' thing... which is a discussion unto itself really. Jacob could've been a really good, interesting character. In concept, he really is - in execution, he really isn't, in my view. I like Jacob for the fact that he really is a very different personality type from the other characters, and I like him for what he could've been written like. 23. Unpopular character you love: So it's a total bit role, but I really like Lillihierax on Noveria. He's this turian mechanic guy standing near the elevator to the SI offices. I just really enjoy his very salt-of-the-earth voice, I like how he's so friendly and asks you to call him 'Li.' I just really, really like him. (It's kind of a weird quirk I guess, but I personally headcanon that he has a bit of a thing for humans in the way some people have a thing for asari, and that's why he's so friendly and personable to Shepard.) He smiles really really wide with his mandibles splayed like all the way out. I just think he's adorable.

#mass effect salty asks

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ferociousqueak · 4 years

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Daffodil or Iris for Dess, pretty please?

So, this one is Iris, though I do plan to do one for Daffodil too. But I’ve thought a lot about how the Vallum Blast would affect Dess, being from Vallum herself. Thank you for the prompt and enjoy :D

You can also read it on AO3!

valor: (n) strength of mind or spirit that enables a person to encounter danger with firmness: personal bravery

***

News of the Vallum Blast was on a constant loop on every station. Everywhere she looked, Dess found another reminder, another devastating image that left her cold and nauseated.

She hadn’t been home since . . . well, home was too strong a word, but Vallum had been her family’s hearth since the city’s founding, long before even the Unification War. She could’ve had her arm amputated and it would hurt less than seeing a crater of rubble and ruin in the place where she grew up, the place where her family . . .

Within hours of the news, Executor Chellick issued carte blanche leave to anyone in C-Sec with ties to Taetrus. To grieve. To search for loved ones. To fight.

A transport carrying volunteers would leave in two hours. With priority traffic clearance and a relay already on the edge of the Mactare system, Dess could be there inside a day.

“You’re going?” Han asked. Anyone else might’ve missed the strained note of panic kept in check in her voice, but for Dess it rang like an alarm bell.

Grabbing an old footlocker—dusty from disuse, kept all these years from nostalgia rather than out of some expected need—from the hall closet was a convenient excuse for Dess to avoid looking at Han. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t,” Han said, her voice hardening from panic to defiance. “The Hierarchy has plenty of soldiers they can throw into that meat grinder. You don’t have to be one of them.”

Dess moved into the bedroom and started gathering her clothes to fold compactly into her bag. A couple decades might have passed since she’d served, but old habits died hard. “It’s not like that,” she said. “As a volunteer, I’ll be behind the frontline most of the time and—”

“What frontline, Odessus!” Han wasn’t one to raise her voice, and the sound of it made Dess grow still. “They flew a goddamn spaceship at the whole fucking planet!”

“I know.” Dess’s heart pounded hard against her chest, but she kept her eyes on the task in front of her.

“People were already dead before the fucking thing even made impact!”

“I know.” Dad . . . Mom . . . Hadrian?

“They can do it again, and you wouldn’t even—”

“I know, Hannah!” Dess snapped, a high keen threatening in her throat. Finally, she turned her full attention on Han, anger and grief tearing at her voice. “I know they can do it again. Right now, it’s my family who’s gone, and tomorrow it could be someone else’s. I can’t just do nothing and let that happen. Again.”

“And if you go, I’ll lose my family!” Tears streamed from Han’s eyes, but she still held onto her defiance. “I can’t do that again. Not after Alli. Not you. I can’t—”

All the anger went out of Dess, and she reached for Han, pulling her close until Dess could press her brow to Han’s. “You’re not going to lose me. I promise. But I need to do this. My family, my parents, everyone, they’re—”

Her voice finally broke and her shoulders trembled under the weight of her grief. She could feel Han sob, something she hoped she’d never have to feel again after the news of . . . of Alchera had reached them.

Han put her arms around Dess. “I know,” she said, her voice watery. “But I’m going to hold you to that promise. If you die over there, I’ll kill you.”

Dess huffed a short laugh. Her subvocals vibrated all on their own, even without her prompting. I love you, too.

The impact crater—centered on where the Radiatum, the main parliamentary building, had stood—was five kilometers in diameter, but the devastation rippled so much farther. Evidence of the destruction saturated the landscape.

Turians of all ages were wrapped in bloodied gauze and hooked to IV cocktails to clot internal bleeding, fight infection, and replace fluids they’d lost—and they’d been the lucky ones on the outskirts of the city, hit by the shockwave rather than the blast itself.

The streets, or what was left of them, were lit by twisted, still-glowing metal rather than streetlamps.

What had been proud, tall buildings were now jagged, hollowed-out skeletons.

Vehicles lay on the street crumpled to a fraction of their original size.

A jaundiced, apocalyptic glow from the fallout hung over the city day and night.

The acrid malodor of burned flesh, drying blood, and still-living bodies turning sceptic was a constant companion, even with the protective equipment she lugged from one pile of rubble to the next.

Ash and wisps of curling smoke threatened to claw down her throat should she even consider removing her air filter.

She’d gotten straight to work when she arrived. From the moment her boots hit the tarmac of the landing pad, she’d had her assignment and her chain of command. Search and rescue. Lieutenant Araxus. Bunk 347, shift 2.

There’d been only enough time to kick her footlocker into place before she joined a squad of six to take on their section of the grid. After nine hours, they’d cleared two square kilometers and not a single living body. She’d had enough energy to wait for her bunkmate to rouse and vacate the cot before falling down, every muscle and tendon finally failing her.

As her eyes closed and she tried to ignore the instinct to reach for a soft, warm body beside her, the day’s work floated into her mind like sewage water from a blocked pipe. The unrecognizable bodies. The pieces of bodies. The places where bodies had clearly been but nothing salvageable remained. They’d taken genetic samples where they could—she wondered just how many people were too obliterated even for that—so their families could have some closure and might find rest in knowing what happened.

Ravaka didn’t.

After a week, the search and rescue operations were reclassified as search and recovery. If there had been any survivors, the chances of them still being alive were vanishingly slim. While a part of Ravaka was gutted to think there was no one left to help, another part of her whispered relief.

No more hope meant more no more disappointment.

No more ticking clock meant no more exhausting pace.

No more lives to save meant no more families to fail.

Finally free to turn off her emotions altogether, Ravaka spent her days picking through rubble, documenting the bodies she found in quiet numbness. She knew it would need to be addressed eventually, but for the moment at least, the levees holding back her own grief and trauma were tall and strong and doubly reinforced.

“You must have some kind of leave, right?” Dess could hear the strain in Han’s voice, however much she was clearly trying to suppress it. “You’re a volunteer, they can’t keep you forever.”

Dess scratched her mandible, considering how to respond. “I . . . don’t think we have the same understanding of volunteering. My job here isn’t done yet.”

Han let out a long sigh, cut short by an audible swallow and small hitch in her voice. “I know. I just worry. I miss you.”

When they disconnected, she lay back and scrubbed her hands over her face. Somewhere in the barracks, someone was taken by a coughing fit. Dess wondered idly how she would hide it from Han during their calls when she eventually began coughing too. It wasn’t an unexpected risk working in a disaster zone like this one. Even with the air filters and the decontamination chambers at the entrance of the prefab barracks, the particulates in the air were very fine and tenacious. Things would get worse for everyone for some time before they got better for anyone.

She closed her eyes, hoping to get some rest, possibly some shallow sleep before she would have to relinquish her bunk to one of its other occupants. Her mind had only begun to drift when a sudden uproar outside snapped her back to attention.

As others rose from their bunks around her, she knew she hadn’t imagined it. The sound swelled when someone opened the door to the outside. Grabbing her mask, Ravaka hurried toward the commotion.

The crowd seemed to swarm toward the camp’s medical center. As the sound turned to cheers, Ravaka’s heart thumped hard against her chest. Was it . . .

Her wrist buzzed with a priority message. A low orange glow lit the crowd around her as others checked the same alert.

BREAKING: Survivor of Vallum Blast recovered after 10 days beneath the rubble. This is a developing story. Check back for more details later.

A grainy, low-quality video showed a crew of turian volunteers in a chain pulling a juvenile, who couldn’t have been more than eight years old, from the debris field and placing her on the ground to check her vitals before transferring her to a gurney. She was clearly emaciated—her plates, still soft with youth, hung loose against her hide, her remaining down was matted and gray, and she didn’t have the strength to hold her mandibles against her jaws—but she was alive and responsive.

Despite the swirling ash and smoke, despite the air filled with death and despair, Dess felt herself breathe easy for the first time since she’d heard the news of the blast.

Things might still get worse, but they’d found someone. Alive. There was hope.

#hows about a meme thingy #Mass Effect #Odessus Ravaka #Hannah Shepard #my fic #and now i have basically a whole other long fic pretty much plotted #because that's exactly what i need #THANKS A LOT CLIO #i hope you liked it :D #ferocious replies #servantofclio

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ask-de-writer · 4 years

Text

DARING DO and THE GRYPHON’S QUEST! : MLP Fan Fiction : Part 17 of 19

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

DARING DO

and

THE GRYPHON’S QUEST!

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

and

Carmen Pondiego

Cover art by Aranel the Cyborg, now Wind the Mama Cat

29584 words

Writing begun 03/29/16

This is a Fan Fiction based on My Little Pony. Canterlot, Princess Luna and the name Daring Do are owned by Hasboro Inc.

//////////////

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fictions is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Chapter 17. The Coward’s Weapon!

Daring Do was pleasantly surprised at just how good her half brother Blendin was at specimen preparation. There was another surprise for her too.

Friend spent much of her time crooning to her Eagle eggs. She did frequently leave her nest and lend her green magic to the task, usually greatly simplifying the work. It was the greatest assistance at particularly difficult or delicate times in the preparation of the failed nymphs that she had loved so dearly and watched over for so many centuries.

Almost any time that they took a break from the arduous task before them, Friend would leave the eggs and nest protected by a nearly invisible glow of green magic. She would take a place beside Daring Do and purr/croon softly. Daring Do found real rest and comfort in the love that Friend shared with her. She often rested her head against the changeling’s horn and shared thought and memory.

It was from that sharing that she learned something surprising about Friend. When her hive was attacked by war equipped and battle ready unicorns, Friend defended the hive’s precious eggs.

She slaughtered ten of the enemy, literally tearing them to pieces in the defense of those eggs. When her shared hive mind felt the Queen die, she went briefly berserk. Four of the ten attacking unicorns that she killed fell in those few moments.

It was duty and love for the eggs that she tended that brought her back to something resembling sanity. Taking all of the eggs that she could carry, she fled into the night.

The world outside of the hive was a strange and confusing place at first. By luck alone, she found a long disused road that led to the mountains. She did the best that she could but it was not enough. One by one, she felt the spark of returned love die out of each of the eggs. Her heart was torn asunder by the loss.

Daring Do knew the rest of the story. What she did not know was the sheer depth of feeling that Friend had developed for her. She meant it when she said that Daring Do was Matunen, Hive Queen, in the ancient tongue of Early Middle Equestrian.

Friend was totally contented for the first time in ages. That in no way interfered with any whit of her egg tending.

Blendin saw his half sister’s serene relaxation around Friend and was glad. The Apprentice Librarian of the Great Library in him was glad too. He was learning things about conservation of irreplaceable delicate artifacts and relics that would apply to his work in the Great Library.

Once everything was ready, he stared at the results of their work in wonder. He had not only helped to prepare the whole foundation for the creation of an entire intelligent species, he had it and all of his half sister’s notes cataloged for the Great Library!

Together, they sent a note of their progress to the Empress.

The door, upon opening, showed the Empress, Grata, and Hisst, the Right Wing of the Imperial Throne. The hallway was blocked by heavily armed Imperial Guards in full battle armor.

Daring Do was about to ask if such precautions were necessary when a loud, harsh voice from up the hallway demanded, “This is all Blasphemous! Even if it were the truth and showed our ancient roots, it would still be blasphemy! The Holy Legends declare that Faith alone is sufficient and seeking truth beyond its holy pages undermines Faith!

“Whatever is here must be destroyed!”

The Empress responded, “What is about to be destroyed is YOU, Krapper! You have fifteen seconds to be around the curve and out of OUR sight before I order my troops to open fire!”

“You would not dare!”

“Nine seconds left, Krapper.”

There was a clatter of claws on stone as the speaker retreated!

The Empress drew a deep breath, her crest showing disgust. “The entire lot of First Creation Idiots want to destroy the only real history that our kind has.”

Friend spoke up, “Your Majesty, they are wrong. This I/we know. Before I/we loved the eggs that became the nymphs of your kind, I/we saw changelings. I/we saw unicorns. I/we saw Eagles. I/we saw pegassi.

“I/we helped matunen Daring Do and brother Blendin to be sure that these failed nymphs truly show how I/we loved the eggs that became the nymphs that are your kind.”

The Empress, crest showing deep thought, began tracing the development of her kind. She was reading the placards set by each step of the way. Looking over to the true mother of her whole species, she asked, “Why did you go from pony to big cat for our hindquarters?”

Friend crowded over to point as she spoke. “Not all big cat. See how these bones go? That is from the pegassus. The head was carnivore, Eagle. The hindquarters had to eat meat too or fail. I/we did see a lion in mountains once, close enough to feel its insides by loving it. I/we used what I/we knew.”

Grata, crest rippling in laughter, exclaimed, “We are so lucky that she didn’t see a bear!”

After the fit of laughter passed around the room, the Empress asked, “How will this all be presented, Doctor Do?”

Daring Do sketched rapidly. “The case, to be portable must be of stout woodwork. The front viewing window should be made of glass that has been spell strengthened like a Magic Net mirror.”

The Empress nodded, crest showing some concern. “You mentioned not risking the real relics and that is a good idea.

“We have General Iron Hooves here with some of his munitions experts. The team that they are consulting with is known to you, though we know that you do not like them much.

“V.I.L.E. Is here. They have sent Carmen Pondiego, Baron Von Nighthoof, Marehem Skadefryd, and Kiros Asbhy. I understand that they have also got a number of Agents here too.”

Crest smiling, the Empress went on, “I was warned to be sure that I still have both mandibles of my beak after dealing with them. However, they will be absolutely honest with family.

“They have several missions. One is being worked on now with General Ironhooves and his aides. Another is to be the agency for creating your cases and making the copies for display. I will be ordering twenty sets.”

Daring Do, looking doubtful, did agree, “I have to admit that when it comes to museum quality duplication, Mom’s company is unexcelled.”

An all too familiar voice caroled from the doorway, “So sweet to hear you actually say something nice about my company! Of course we are honest! V.I.L.E. has never been caught or proved to be guilty of ANY crime at all!

“Suspicions? Poof! Suspicion and a cup of tea will get you anything from a nice Bergamont to bag of Lupton’s Worst!

Carmen Pondiego strutted into the room in her trademark porkpie hat and fire engine red dress. She called over her shoulder, “General, Dear, would you please come in and see for yourself what my daughter found that is causing all this mess?”

General Ironhooves entered the door. He was in his simple field uniform.

He tipped his Campaign Hat to the Empress and her Wings. He approached the study tables, examining the relics with care. He picked up Daring Do’s voluminous field notes and sketches, seeming to leaf through them, except that once in a while he stopped long enough to separate pages that stuck together.

He put down the books and turned to the Empress. “Ma'am, you have chosen your battlefield perfectly. Better, you have the enemy in the sights of your artillery.

“I hope that it does not come to armed conflict, but if it does, after consulting with Carmen here, I think that you will have a LOT of surprises for them!”

Daring Do managed to look skeptical. “Only them?”

Before Carmen could snark back, Marehem wandered in, right past the security detail. He grinned. “Helps to be a misfortune changel …”

His eyes bugged out. It was the first time that Daring Do could remember that her uncle Marehem was caught totally off guard!

“An Egg-tender, HERE? How did that happen? How can she live without a hive?”

Friend looked up from serenely turning the eggs in the nest. She smiled as she said, “Matunen Daring Do.”

Uncle M stopped like he’d hit a brick wall headfirst. “Adora, Matunen? A queen?”

The Empress nodded, crest rippling amusement. “It hit us like that too, when we realized that Friend is OVER two thousand years old. She was the sole survivor of a destroyed hive.

“Tending eggs kept her sane. She is the Mother who loved an unstable and fatal hybridization into becoming our strong race. I gather that for her, loving means something other than a simple feeling.”

Marehem got it together to say, “It sure does. The eggs a queen lays are sort of neutral. They will develop as random kinds of changelings. Give them to an Egg-tender and tell her how many of which sort, worker, other egg-tenders, drones, even a queen, and that is what you will get. Their love is a very complex magic that no other kind can do.”

Daring Do, eyes twinkling, suggested, “Make the order for V.I.L.E. twenty one copies. We will donate one to the Nightmare Wars Collection of the Royal Museum!”

General Ironhooves grinned hugely. “You really want to shaft those First Creationists, don’t you?”

Daring Do simply said, “Yes. They defile and deny the history that I have devoted my life to.”

Carmen pointed to the work tables and said, “Will you take a real compliment from your mother, Adora? This, notes, restorations, preparation and all is a fantastic piece of work.

V.I.L.E. will duplicate it with the greatest of care. With your permission, we will keep a copy for our own private museum.”

Mutely, Daring Do nodded.

She saw Uncle M talking to a Magic Net mirror and turning it to show everything.

Carmen pointed to an especially fragile relic and said, “Be especially careful of this one, Baron.”

One by one, the laboriously prepared relics, notes and all quietly vanished. General Ironhooves simply noted, “Handy trick, that!”

Daring Do, Friend, with her nest, and Blendin were brought to a large suite with an open airy feeling. One Gryphon port was open enough for the Eagles to get in and out but not Gryphons. The rooms were swarmed with Eagles.

Friend immediately shared that soft green magic of hers to include all of the waiting Eagles. The way that they crowded close about the nest, it was clear that they had been waiting for Friend’s loving magic. Several shuffled aside and one reached out a beak and snagged Daring Do’s tunic, making her join or get a torn tunic. She joined the Eagles in luxuriating in the literal glow of Friend’s shared love.

After a few days of resting up, Rahak came by. Crest at attention, he requested, “Doctor Do, master Blendin, would you come please? The display copies are ready for examination.”

They followed the Wing Commander back down to the workroom. There were twenty one large cases of fine solid woodwork, each faced by stout glass armored by a spell to the toughness of steel. The contents were beautifully displayed to make the whole progression from hippogriff to Gryphon utterly clear. Each item of the display had its explanatory placard.

Neatly done on each placard was an exact copy of a reference to the actual original Legend Document, with translation. After that part was a clear, simple note explaining the item.

Central to the whole display was Daring Do’s detailed sketch of the remains of the failed nymphs in place, as they were found.

The whole thing had such an impact that Daring Do’s breath drew in, in a way that she had heard so many times as a child riding her mother’s back in a knapsack, when her mother saw some beautiful thing that she was about to steal.

Turning to an equally awestruck Blendin, Daring Do said, “Tell Carmen that this is the best display preparation that I have ever seen.”

“Thank you, dear,” said a familiar voice. A khaki colored unicorn mare in a form fitting fire engine red dress stepped out of the shadows. Daring Do was shocked to see bags under her eyes.

Carmen Pondiego told her, “The General is sleeping now. I have been working along with every agent that I have available. I cannot tell you what we have been doing. Imperial Security is involved. I only hope that it has been enough to prevent the war.”

Rahak suggested, “Let us all prepare for this evening’s banquet. That is when you will make your presentation, Doctor Do.”

Daring Do was looking around the Imperial Banquet Hall, at the many war banners that fluttered in the light breeze. There were also the banners of the provinces of the Empire. The wood and stonework was outstanding for its solidity and rich carving.

Perched on every place that they could find claw room were hundreds of Eagles, looking expectantly at Friend. Her nest had been placed conveniently close to Daring Do’s place.

The dining tables were all set so that every diner could see the big glass fronted case with its display. There were two small books by each place.

One was a copy of the original document of the Legends, written some time shortly before 54 Post Nightmare Wars. It had an exact copy of the document itself, a line by line literal translation and a third line in modern Gryphon with notes to explain the meaning of idioms used when the original was written. No commentaries. No editing. Only a foreword explaining that this was a true copy of the Legends that they all revered and tried to follow. Commentaries were dispensed with in the hope that the reader could understand what the words said and form their own opinions based on solid fact.

It was signed and sealed by the Empress herself.

The other small book contained copies of Daring Do’s expedition notes and sketches that were relevant to the display showing the origin of their species.

The First Created believers started to scream, “Blasphemy!”

The Empress herself cut them off. “Silence, Krapper! These are the Legends that you CLAIM to revere!”

“You have left out the rich and ancient commentaries!”

Her crest rippling with laughter, the Empress exclaimed, “Ancient? Krapper, the FIRST commentary was inserted into a small book like this only thirty five years ago! It had a note that it WAS NOT HOLY WRIT, only opinion. That note was removed and further commentaries added. More than half of the mass of your book has been added in just the last five years!

“It must be wonderful to be able to write up whatever you please, insert it into the next edition of your book and have it called HOLY WRIT!”

“Our Book is the true Law! Holy Word is higher than mere secular law!”

“NO, Krapper! That is direct sedition! Guards! Stand behind Krapper! If he utters one more word of sedition, cut his wing tendons at once. He will be given the LONG DROP at sunrise for the crime.”

The Empress paused for effect and added, “Now, we have a banquet laid before us. Let not Krapper’s ill manners spoil your appetite. After we have eaten, we will hear from Doctor Daring Do, whose actual facts, well documented and proven may provide you with much food for thought.”

The server placed a plate in front of Daring Do, commenting, “I hope that we got it to your taste. It is a sauced alfalfa steak. We don’t eat such fare, so we are not much used to cooking it.”

Daring Do replied with a smile, “I am sure that it will be fine. You have been doing well the last few days.”

She cut a bite and began to chew. Numbness spread from her mouth. She gasped and could draw no air. Her vision was fading slowly.

She heard, “The Blasphemer has been struck down! Any means to strike at blasphemy is honorable, the Holy Writ is clear!”

The voice of the Empress cried, “Poison is the Coward’s Weapon! Seize them! Do not wait for the Long Drop! Kill them now!”

The voice of Friend cut across the fading din, “No! Matunen still has love. I/we need them! They will wish for your long drop! I/we promise …”

Then no sight. No sound. No touch. No taste. Nothing …

<==PREVIOUS NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

#DARING DO AND THE GRYPHON'S QUEST!#Part 17 of 19 #MLP Fan Fiction #Written by De Writer and Carmen Pondiego

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wholecalamity · 4 years

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Child’s Play Chapter 2 - Friends in High Places

Links to posts with the previous chapters will be at the bottom!

–

The cool winds ruffled Naito’s hair as he gazed upon the vast landscape below him, a safe distance from the edge thanks to the hard-light barrier covering the perimeter of the floating island on which he stood.

Today, his caretaker was some “Android” uncle Draedon had made, named Klaire. He had no clue what an “android” was other than that it meant that she was a robot, which couldn’t be true because she looked just like a human!

She could make portals, just like Uncle Yharim’s pet dog, which was really cool!

The island in question was mostly artificial, an attempt at harnessing the power of natural floating islands in an experiment to create an aerial fortress.

However, several problems arose, including logistics and the fact that they would grow too heavy for mere solidified clouds.

Luckily, this “Android” was allowed to keep this vastly unfinished prototype; several islands merged into one super-island, which had been converted into something akin to a personal home.

Harpies and other strange birds watched down upon him from the large trees that dotted the place, as bunnies of many kinds roamed the yard.

He loved this place! So many things to do, and he’d only been here for a few minutes!

But then, without warning, the sky went dark. That’s weird! They were above the clouds, so what could possibly…?

Roaaar!

A great serpent dove down from the sky; a full grown Wyvern, looking to make a quick bite-sized snack out of Naito!

“Oh no you don’t!” His caretaker shouted, jumping between the two. With a swipe of her arm, reality was torn open as a portal appeared, unleashing an even greater serpent.

An armor-plated worm-like creature shot forth from the portal, snatching the Wyvern with its large pincers with honed precision.

The great serpent came down, coiling up like a house-sized rattlesnake. With a twist of its head, the hostile wyvern went down the hatch with a comical slurp.

“Nice catch, big boy!” The pinkette praised the giant armored worm as she gingerly gave it scritches on the neck.

Naito looked up in awe at the large serpent as it turned to face him, chittering curiously.

“Big wormy!” He called out, reaching up to pet it. Seeing what he was trying to do, the serpent bent down within arm’s reach of the small boy.

His caretaker ‘aaw’d’ at their antics.

“Hey, little man.” Klaire began, pulling out a humorously oversized piece of raw meat on the bone. “You wanna feed ‘em yourself?”

The little boy looked at the oversized morsel.

“Noooo! You’re supposed to cook it first!”

Deep inside the mind of Storm Weaver, its primitive intelligence slowly began to turn the gears.

‘What is cook?’

“Eeh?” The android had a look of confusion.

“You’re supposed to cook food, miss Klaire! It makes it taste better and makes it safe to eat too!”

‘Make food better?’ This got the serpents attention as it leaned in closer, wagging its tail the best a serpent could.

Klaire looked at Naito, then back up at Storm Weaver, who had begun drooling at the thought of a good meal.

“Heh.” The android shrugged, smiling. “Can’t argue with that…”

With a flick of her wrist, a rising spiral of godslayer flames leapt from her hand, roasting the meat chunk in seconds until it became a fine medium rare.

“Lunch is served!”

Storm Weaver took a bite of the cooked meat…

…and immediately entered a whole new world of flavor as the juices courses over its taste buds.

‘Cooked meat is…delicious! Taste better than chicken noodle…!’

It quickly chomped up the rest and curled up in front of Klaire, begging for more.

“Heh, how could I say no to that face?”

“I’m hungry too, Miss Klaire!”

“And what is it that you seek?”

Naito raises his arms into the air excitedly. “Hamborgar!”

Storm Weaver was very excited to discover what a ‘hamborgar’ was.

–

Several days later, Storm Weaver sat in front of his prey, a freshly slain wyvern.

He would learn how to cook his own food, one way or another. Lightning shot forth from his mandibles.

It came out a little crispy, but it was definitely an improvement from last time!

And maybe, just one day, Stormy could learn how to make a ‘hamborgar’ without big sis Klaire’s help.

–

Chapters

Cookies and Catharsis

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 years

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Exclusive excerpt of Rudy Rucker's new novel: Million Mile Road Trip

Rudy Rucker's 23rd novel is out today! It's called Million Mile Road Trip. Rudy is one of my all-time favorite authors and he has kindly given me permission to run an excerpt here.

“Stratocast”

An Excerpt from Million Mile Road Trip

by Rudy Rucker

[email protected]

2,300 Words

April 22, 2019

==========

Villy’s brother Scud and the Szep alien Pinchley are in front seat of the highly modified car that they call the purple whale. Zoe and Villy are in back.

Villy’s two-thirds-size Flying Vee guitar is alive. Basically the instrument is a female alien. She stretches her neck so she can nuzzle Zoe’s black guitar, who is male. The instruments chime softly to each other. Villy thinks of them as a pair of race horses that he and Zoe are about to ride.

“Or magic broomsticks,” says Zoe inside Villy’s head. The guitars seem to be giving them telepathy.

Scud uses his powers to levitate the purple whale high into the air. Pinchley guns the engine—and nothing whatsoever happens. Oh, right, the gigundo tires are spinning in empty air.

“You’ll do that stratocast thing now?” says Scud. “Is that the word?”

Zoe stares into Villy’s eyes. She looks zonky and vamp. Like a goth rocker. They poise fingers on their frets. Each of them holds a triangle of seashell for a pick. Zoe nods her head once and: Zam deedle squee.

In her head, Zoe’s leading the way, sailing the sonic sea, and Villy’s close behind. The two of them do a virtual dance in music-space, orbiting each other like strands of DNA, growing a heaven-tree of sound. Sweet. Villy didn’t know Zoe could play guitar like this. But, um, the car’s still not moving. It’s just floating there.

Zoe breaks off, embarrassed, and begins tuning her guitar, or trying to, except that it doesn’t actually have tuning pegs. The car hangs in the air like a ripe fruit, very slowly drifting forward.

So now Villy and Zoe eat some of their curiously energizing caraway seeds, pretty much a whole teaspoon of them apiece, crunching the seeds with their back molars. Villy definitely feels a lift. He sees colored shapes from the corners of his eyes. Like virtual pastel caraways. When he turns his head, the quick bright crescents scoot out of sight. They’re hella shy.

“I see the colored things too,” says Zoe. “Smeel boomerangs. We’ll chase them with our notes. Stratocast a goblin march.”

“That’s not science,” says pedantic kid brother Scud.

“Shut your crack,” snaps Villy.

Zoe strikes a fresh chord. She goes for a bluesy beat, a cycling rhythm beneath jai-alai scribbles of smeely grace notes. Villy gets into it as well, gazing towards the horizon as he plays. In his peripheral vision the smeel crescents creep forward. They’re like frail, lace-winged insects edging the cones of his eyebeam headlights. He gooses them with pecks of his pick.

So, yaaar, Villy and Zoe are playing at a new level now, into the flow, elaborating riffs like logical syllogisms, and where the hell is Villy getting words like this.

The purple whale begins moving. Slow, then fast, borne upon the stratocast of sound. They rush across the Jell-O-salad expanse of the Harmony basin, swifter than a strafing jet. At the wheel, pilot Pinchley tweaks their path, trimming the flaps, sloping a route that crosses the basin’s far border much sooner than seems possible. Scud levitates for all he’s worth, barely making it above the ridge between Harmony and the next basin.

“Close shave,” goes Scud. “Those mountains came up fast.”

“Hundred thousand miles per,” gloats alien Pinchley, talking like a hillbilly the way he likes to do. “Make some noise, Zoe-Villy. This new basin is called Wristwatch, I do recall.”

Villy peers down, putting his guitar fingers into a reptile-brain ostinato mode. The Wristwatch basin is cogs and gears, a vast array of them, slowly turning, with levers and springy coils and, weirdly, big patches of honey here and there, clogging up the works. Ants in the soft honey, timekeeper ants. How can Villy be seeing such tiny details with them careening past so fast?

“Frog tongue eyebeam,” goes Zoe. She looks very cryp and glam, with glowons highlighting the outlines of her far-gone face. She’s playing Coptic seven-tone crescendos, accompanied by teep images of, like, jackal-headed gods marching into a pharaoh’s tomb, and semi-unwrapped mummy-girls shaking their booties beside the curly purling of the river Nile.

Villy harmonizes, making a sound like the argle-bargle of man-eating crocs. As he plays, he comes to understand what Zoe’s remark meant. That is, even though they’re topping a thousand miles a minute, it’s possible, what with their caraway-seed-enhanced mental powers, to shoot out an eyebeam quick as a frog’s bug-catching tongue, and to leave your eyebeam in place for a few secs, and thereby to vacuum up a mini video of what is/was happening there. Frog tongue eyebeam, yes.

Goofing on the Wristwatch basin, Villy notices independent little batches of cogs and worm-gears bustling around on their own, rooting at the planetary timepiece and prying off toothsome wheels to take unto themselves. For its part, the basin-wide master-clock is of course eating as many of the ticking freebooter assemblages as it can—sometimes trapping them in the ants’ honey-ponds.

Lots of time down there. And then the time’s up. They squeak over another ridge.

“Cuttle Scuttle Swamp,” intones Pinchley.

A flying cuttlefish thuds against the grill of the car, sending them into a wrenching 3D tumble. They’re in danger of blacking out from the centrifugal gees. Zoe bears down on her guitar and gets into feedback mode. The internal amp drives the strings that drive the amp that drives the strings—a jitter of skronks and wheenks. Dark energy on parade. Somehow the way-sick bleat sets their yawing vessel aright. Thank you, primordial chaos.

Scud in the front seat has become wary. Looking far ahead, he zaps the next incoming cuttlefish before it arrives. Not that the cuttlefish are attacking them, per se. They’re into some intramural scene of their own. A civil war?

Two populations of cuttlefish inhabit Cuttle Scuttle Swamp: red ones and green ones. The red ones fly, beating their skirt-fins, and the green ones disport themselves in the shallow, smeely waters. The air cuttles dive down at the water cuttles, and the water cuttles power themselves into the air like breaching manatees. When two cuttles collide, they tangle their tentacles and—are they biting each other?

“Making love,” says Zoe, and she segues her solo into a steamy, insinuating beat. “Gettin’ down. Like you and me, Villy.”

Villy crafts a squalid bass line to match Zoe’s mood. He’s never played this well. Basins flit past. For half an hour, he and Zoe are fully zoned into the stratocast. And then they happen to notice the landscape again.

“Gold Bug basin,” goes Pinchley. The dude has the whole sector mapped inside his head.

Shiny black beetles are excavating galleries and crafting lacy mounds. Beetles like the living cars of the Van Cott streets, but less citified. More tribal. Their antennae bear rows of sideways branches. The beetles fart explosive gas to help with their excavations. Ftoom. They’re digging for lumps of gold. A midnight-blue beetle displays a large nugget in triumphant mandibles. Villy’s focus twitches forward from the prize nugget to the next highlight—a crater filled with dome-backed beetles waving their fringed June-bug antennae and worshipping a golden beetle-god the size of a blimp. Glowons add to the graven idol’s luster.

The appreciative Villy and Zoe glide into a shimmering musical fantasia of lush flourishes. Scud torques the car up over the beetle basin’s onrushing ridge. Pinchley trims their onward course. The four travelers take a feral pleasure in their phantasmagoric speed. More basins and more.

“How do you know which direction to go?” Scud asks Pinchley.

“Thar she blows,” goes the Szep. “See the plume out yonder?”

Villy slits his eyes in order to do a mental zoom—and he’s able to see a downy upright feather on the far horizon, a thunderhead of clouds that must tower a thousand miles high.

“The cloud over Szep City,” says Pinchley. “That’s the one we call Sky Castle. You’ll go there later. But for now, here comes the li’l ole basin that we call Funky Broadway.”

Zoe chimes a downward arpeggio, and Villy stays in teepful sync. Funky Broadway is a world of living cities, blocky hives trundling across a fruited plain. The cities are inhabited by races of monkeys. Here and there pairs of cities batten onto each other. Their primate passengers clamber from one metropolis to the other. Ape-men brandish exquisite works of art in offer for trade—only to be taken prisoner by brutal lower orders who feed the unfortunate captives into meat-grinder gear-trains embedded in the lowest foundations of the towns.

Zoe plays the sounds of stabbing cries, and Villy styles moony evocations of wasted lives. A heart-searing duet. And that’s just a start. Zoe and Villy lose themselves in ever-richer stratocast harmonies, sailing across more basins and more.

“Paramecium Pond.”

It’s a five-thousand-mile puddle that is a luminous shade of yellow-green, vibrant with algae, shiny with microorgasmic tides. Paramecia, amoeba, volvoxes, rotifers—teeming, breeding, and consuming their fellows when they can.

“An octillion in all,” says science-boy Scud. There’s quite the teepy vibe inside the car by now, what with the living Harmon guitars, the saucer pearl, the kids’ mental acrobatics, and Pinchley’s off-kilter state.

As they fly above Paramecium Pond, Zoe and Villy spin a sludgy mat of notes—a recursive musical fugue. Right about now the microorganisms’ population count seems to be dropping at a logarithmic rate. The individual cells are eating each other and getting bigger—like rivals climbing up through the brackets of a tournament tree. A mere billion of them remain. A thousand. A hundred. And then—but one. A paramecium the size of a continent.

The slimy titan lolls in the planetary pond. A plutocrat in a bathtub. Suddenly the glowing waters slosh. Something’s wrong? A dark spot has appeared upon the tyrant’s ciliated pellicle hide. A raging infection, a rogue colony of his erstwhile lower companions. The master paramecium springs a leak and—pop—he’s back to square one. An octillion rivals in a planetary pool of goo.

Inspired by the scene, Zoe and Villy craft a bombastic rock anthem. More and more worlds strobe past.

Trumpeting the thousand names of the alien god Goob-goob, elephants carry smaller elephants to and fro, building elephantine mounds that stretch into the sky. Pinchley steers among the wobbly columns, and, where necessary, Scud zaps a grabby trunk.

Milk-spurting udders flop in high green grass. Towering flowers chide the udders in snobby British accents. Vines sprout floating cucumbers like miniature zeppelins. Tiny uniformed airmen gather on the taut hulls to dance hornpipe jigs.

Mermen and sirens loll beside a glassy black sea. Loch Ness monsters ply the inky waters, their heads like prows of Viking ships.

A sky full of barking dogs, with a suburban grid of doghouses below. Sinister rabbits slink from doghouse to doghouse eating puppies, quite heedless of the fruitful carrot patches in the doghouse yards.

Wee gnomes juggle bristly ogres in the air. Steaming cauldrons of porridge await. The ogres dwindle to raisins in the mush.

Flying jellyfish carry shrimp-people. The treacherous shrimps set the jellies to lashing each other with stinging strands. Beneath the fray, striped sea snails cheer and toss bouquets to the shrimp.

Hopeful pigs join snouts in pairs, disk to disk. They spin upwards like helicopters, shedding rashers of bacon that settle onto slippery, overcrowded streets.

Hippos in a basin of braided rivers that cascade from the cliffs along the basin’s edge. Flying bales of alfalfa appear. The hippos roar in joy, showing stubby peg-like teeth.

A herd of sinister eyeballs rolls across a plain, forever watching a commanding central figure who feeds upon attention.

All along they’ve been moving in parallel to Groon’s jet stream. If Villy squints his eyes, he can make out the steady flow of saucers within. The Szep City cloud called Sky Castle is no longer so impossibly far. Onward.

Zoe and Villy stratocast the purple whale across a watery basin rife with whirlpools that split and merge. Above the sea, tornadoes fill the misty air, as if mirroring the maelstroms below. Small, isolated thunderheads scud among the tornadoes, exchanging lightning bolts like phrases in a ceaseless conversation.

In the next basin, crystals sprout like hoarfrost ferns, then snap loose and tumble, transforming themselves like shards in a kaleidoscope. Arpeggios ring from the crystals, rising towards an elusive climax. Zoe’s and Villy’s rhythms push the swelling harmony over the edge. The crystals shatter into specks that spring into the sky.

And now comes a basin that’s entirely filled by a single, planet-sized human corpse. Pygmies and homunculi feast upon it, like fiddler crabs on a dead dolphin.

Gray light, a drizzle of steady rain. Fish walk on pairs of legs. Chickens in mortarboards declaim from ladders.

Crawling naked brains play cards and promenade in patterns. A supernal book of wisdom takes shape amid the brains. Living pairs of scissors dart forward and snip the book’s pages to confetti.

“One last basin before Szep City,” says Pinchley. “The Pit. It’s like a deep well with Groon at the bottom.” The dark Pit’s walls are vertical, like the vent of a volcano. The jet stream they’ve been tracking—it makes a turn here and dives into the Pit. A wailing drone sounds from the abyss.

Pinchley pumps his arms as if he’s dancing a jig. “Groon’s music,” he says. “He’s a giant bagpipe. Levitate your ass off, Scud. No way we want to be sucked to the bottom of the Pit or, worse than that, end up inside Groon’s sack.”

Naturally, life being the way it is, the purple whale ends up in a downward death spiral around a whirlwind that runs into the Pit. It’s like they’re moths around a flame, or kids around an ice cream stand, or hayseeds around a county fair burlesque show.

========

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https://boingboing.net/2019/05/07/exclusive-excerpt-of-rudy-ruck.html

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rekwritesnonsense · 5 years

Text

Prompt: Mistake

Bael breathed out in heavy, thudding huffs, exhaling ambient cigarettes, spice, and blood splatter from between red lips. It was one of those pit fights where the goddamn neon kept flashing, changing against the duracrete floor and the sweat on the human in front of him, making shadows jump in half a dozen directions, giving the whole thing a nauseating strobe effect. He spat a rope of blackened phlegm to the side, roared for the crowd, and made the charge. He had the weight advantage, and while he wasn’t faster than the other man, he was fast enough, and he could take the slighter man’s hits to the ribs, the meat of the stomach. He clamped his hand into the hollow parts of his opponent’s face and slammed him spine first into the floor with enough force to feel the jaw pop out under his grip. Since the bastard couldn’t bite anymore, he pushed his hand in deeper and repeated the impact until the body stopped kicking.

There were some cheers. Money changed hands. Somebody passed Bael a gray and red splotchy towel and a beer he assumed was free. Some people dragged the human out. The lights made it hard to tell if he was breathing or not, but they didn’t leave him there, and Bael supposed that was a sign of something. His teeth tasted like silver.

“Easy fight,” Vrict hissed next to him, checking a tally. “Not great profits with those odds, but good job making it a show. Kerr says you’re welcome back any time.”

“Tomorrow?” Bael asked. The adrenaline was draining out and he could feel the tender spots left by those hits, but he figured he could probably win again tomorrow. His boss had been laying low the last two weeks- something political- and his landlord was making noise about it again. Ma said his sister needed new books for school. “Doesn’t the school fuckin’ give them books?” he’d asked, but apparently this was some sort of special thing, or some sort of punishment, or his Ma didn’t read whatever the school sent home and was just fucking guessing again because asking her boy was easier than slogging through whatever polite, vague, unhelpful thing some prissy pristine white furred teacher sent home in a language Ma was never that great at reading. “Let me see it,” he’d said over the holo, which was also costing money he wasn’t making. “Threw it out,” she said, waving a cigarette like she was trying to precision incinerate flies. There was no talking to the woman once she’d decided a thing was too complicated for anyone to figure out, and solving the problem only made her angry that you were calling her stupid. “Love you, Ma,” he’d said eventually. She sucked down tar and smoke. “Stay safe, Baby Boy. Don’t let the bastards put one over on you.”

“Yeah, probably tomorrow.” Vrict clicked his mandibles. “But maybe cool it a day or two, yeah? Can’t spend money dead in a ditch.”

Bael groaned and tipped up his beer. He tried to make eye contact with the Nautolan he’d been talking to before the fight, and then wished he hadn’t. Those big black eyes had gone wider, and he was more than familiar with the fear in them, with the sudden understanding of exactly what Bael could do to another sentient being if he set his mind to it. He turned back to Vrick as they quickly paid the tab and hurried out. That was another set of maybe-plans gone for the evening.

“What the fuck is wrong with the boss?” he complained. His knuckles ached and the quickly warming drink sandwiched between them was not helping as much as he’d like. “Why can’t we just go back to work? Bust some heads, shake down some shops, fucking stand in front of something with a blaster rifle, I don’t care, but I need the fucking work, man.”

“There’s freelance?” Vrict’s offer wasn’t helpful and they both knew it. Freelance meant sticking your dick blind into the hornet’s nest that was Nar Shaddaa politics. Or it meant hopping a ride somewhere else and hoping the boss didn’t call while you were out moonlighting on a different moon. You could go weeks without hearing from that slimy coward, but stars fucking forbid you didn’t call him back within five minutes and hop to wherever the fuck he told you. That just left pit fights and loan sharks, both of which were going to break a few of Bael’s ribs eventually. Bael growled into his drink.

“Hey, champ!” somebody called, and Bael scrunched up his face in physical pain. Somewhere behind him, someone was trying to get his attention. Somebody with a Corellian accent and a self-important swagger even to their voice. Without turning his head, Bael stuck up a middle finger and elaborately, pointedly drained the last of his drink. “I’m talking to you, you fucking dewback!” the voice was rising in pitch. “Do you know who I am?”

Bael looked to Vrict, who shook his head very slightly. No idea.

“Let’s launch,” Bael said, staggering up. “Get some better air.” Vrict snorted. May as well suggest a walk in the sunshine.

The hand that came down on Bael’s shoulder and tried to pull him around was too big to belong to the voice. He turned in the spastic light and saw a weequay, but nobody he knew. Behind him some little human with gold jewelry and one of those stylized slavers’ belts with a loop which could anchor several chains was shouting about respect, and how he wouldn’t be ignored.

Respect.

Bael’s fist hit the weequay’s spiked face with the full force of an impending eviction, of a speeder bike he couldn’t figure out how to fix, of an apartment full of empty beer cans and cheap holos alone, of not having enough control of his own life to see his people in anything more than occasional calls where they asked for more money, of all the frustration and humiliation possible when your only skill was what you could put your fist through. The crunch felt satisfying.

The little human pulled a gun, and the next few seconds were blind speed and pure instinct. Bael broke his hand around the grip and punched him in the throat. Then he hammered down on the crown of the man’s skull as he fell choking and gasping. Vrict was at his back, gun drawn and ready to hop in, but the fight was already over. The lights flickered and sputtered.

“Holy shit man,” said somebody in the crowd, “do you know who that was?”

And that was when Bael knew he had made a serious mistake.

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evolutionsvoid · 5 years

Photo

The Pugnax is a creature that is found in the arctic regions of the world, where land and ice meet the freezing seas. They are marine mammals that spend most of their lives in these frigid waters, only coming to dry land to rest or reproduce. If your ship has ever sailed through the arctic regions, you probably have spotted their huge colonies packed upon the floating ice and stony shores. When seen on land, you would probably wonder how such a beast survives in water. Their bodies are bulky and heavy, giving the impression that they would sink like a stone. Their limbs look malformed and useless, which is shown when they drag their weight around on the ice. While all this gives the impression of an awkward creature, they are surprisingly graceful in the water, and are hardy beasts that can easily survive in this cold, harsh world. The Pugnax are creatures of the sea, and their anatomy shows that quite well. Their forelimbs have flattened out into flippers, while their hind limbs have fused to create something like the fluke of a whale. These are obviously used to propel themselves through the water, and the dexterity of their limbs allows them to pull off impressive maneuvers. They have precise control over their movements, which is critical when it comes to foraging for food and escaping predators. The other adaptation is the streamlined shape of their body. Though bulky, the body of the Pugnax is very smooth and rounded, making it so that they slice through the water rather than burrow through it. Their fur is extremely short and sparse, while their ears are reduced and stick close to their skulls. Speaking of their body and skin, the Pugnax have thick layers of insulating blubber that keep them warm in the frigid water. This is how they are able to survive in such an environment with little to no shelter. To further help their aquatic lifestyle is their respiratory system, which is specialized for long dives in the ocean. Large lungs allow them to hold a lot of air and their bodies are capable of functioning on very little of it at a time. The flesh around their nostrils can seal them shut to prevent seawater from getting in, and their thick flexible lips keep the same from happening to their mouths. So far it is believed that the Pugnax can remain underwater for as long as thirty minutes, which is important when it comes to finding food. The diet of a Pugnax consists mainly of mollusks and crustaceans, which they hunt for during their long dives. This food is found on the sea floor, usually buried within the muck and sand. To dig out such treats, they use the famed tusks that jut from their lower mandibles. These long, lance-like tusks are actually incisors that have grown out of their jaws, with them actually emerging below the lips. Both the males and females of this species possess these tusks, as they are important for feeding. These two special teeth are grown close together to create one structure, and they are subtly curved upward to make something like a scoop. When foraging, the Pugnax will swim just above the ocean floor, using its keen senses and sensitive hairs to locate prey. When food is detected, they shall use their long tusks to rip up the muck and reveal the hiding morsel. With the scoop-like shape of their tusks, they can slide them under prey and lift them up to send them sliding down to their mouth. Prehensile lips allow them to suck up the crab or clam without letting much sea water get in, and these same lips can let them chew their food without breaking the waterproof seal. Inside their mouths are broad, flat teeth that can crush and grind tough shells, and the whole pulverized mess is swallowed. After eating all they can during their dive, the Pugnax shall return to dry land where it can rest up.

Due to its large size and layers of blubber, the Pugnax is a tempting meal for arctic predators. Many other animals out there would love to dine upon a rich store of fat, but the Pugnax is no easy target. While they are awkward and slow on land, they gather in large pods that can reach the hundreds. With sheer numbers like that, a predator could simply be crushed to death by their bulky bodies if they dared dive in for a bite. This rarely happens, as many would-be attackers are more worried about the two toothy lances jutting from their faces. While good for digging, these tusks can also jab and slash at foes. When the colony is approached by a predator, many Pugnax will point their tusks outward, creating a wall of ivory spears. In the water, the Pugnax are not so packed together and predators can more easily single out an individual. The problem they will encounter, though, is that the Pugnax are more graceful in water than on land. They can dodge charges and move away from bites, all while keeping their tusks trained on the attacker. In some cases, the Pugnax may even barrel towards opponents, looking to gore them with their teeth. If one wants to eat one of these beasts, then they must be quick and creative. Some predators are fast enough underwater to dart around these teeth and attack the exposed body, while others go for surprise tactics so that the Pugnax is doomed before it has a chance to fight back. Another group can focus on the Pugnax's need for air, mainly carnivores who sport gills and other water-breathing organs. They can antagonize the Pugnax and keep it from reaching the surface, slowly asphyxiating it as it tries desperately to escape. If the unfortunate victim tries to fight to the end, then it shall drown and the predator gets its meal. If they make a mad, last second dash to the surface waters, they expose themselves to attack and the predator won't waste such an advantage. Another thing they do on dry land, other than rest, is mate. These large colonies will soon divide themselves up into harems, as the largest and strongest males lay claim to any female they can find. Other males may seek to challenge them, and this is when their tusks find another purpose. Like fencers in a duel, these males will clash with their tusks and try to stab the other challenger. At such times, you can even hear the clatter of their teeth from a ship, as they swipe and lunge at one another. These battles can get quite bloody, as the sharp teeth shred through skin. Thankfully, their blubber prevents these wounds from becoming serious, and many defeated opponents will crawl off with a fresh batch of scars. The hides of most Pugnax boast dozens of scars, either gained during battle or by close calls with predators. Once females give birth to their pups, they shall stick to dry land until their offspring grows strong enough to swim. During this time, the pup shall feed on her milk while the mother relies on her stores of fat to keep her going. Once the pup has gained its strength, the two shall head into the ocean, where she shall teach it to forage (with the added bonus of her finally getting something to eat). As I mentioned before, the big, blubbery bodies of the Pugnax are tempting targets to many and that includes local folk. For coastal towns in the arctic, the Pugnax are a staple of their livelihoods. Their hide is good for leather, while the sheer amount of meat and fat is enough to sustain a village for quite some time. While the fishermen go out with their nets, hunters will head out with their spears to take down one of these beasts. The weapons of these hunters are often long, as they need to be able to score a hit without getting jabbed by the Pugnax's own weapons. Often hunters focus on a single creature, attacking from all sides and slowly taking it down with dozens of stabs. The carcass is then moved to a nearby spot and carved up, which is waaaaaay longer than the actual hunting part. In fact, hunters spend most of their time dressing and hauling their kills than actually taking them down! The other thing taken from the carcass is, of course, their tusks. Locals use these overgrown teeth in their tools and art, carving into the ivory to create breathtaking sculptures. It is only in these villages where I can truly appreciate this art, as I know that these tusks were taken from Pugnax that were hunted to sustain their families. In these cases, the tusks were an added bonus, while the animal was taken down mainly for food. Seeing these ivory sculptures in the homes of collectors and rich folk, though, is another story. Instead of seeing the beautiful craftmanship and the wonderful handiwork, I am reminded of the folk who butcher these creatures solely for their tusks. The ivory trade is a lucrative one, and there are those out there that will take down dozens of these beasts and leave their carcasses behind to rot. It is a disgusting practice, and one that causes a lot of damage. In fact, I ran into a group of these butchers during my studies of the Pugnax, and boy were my leaves rustled! I was hunkered down on a far off hill when I spotted them, but at the time I thought they were regular hunters. When the six of them cut down three hefty beasts, I thought nothing of it. It was only when they sawed off the tusks and walked off with nothing else that I realized the species of jerkbag I was actually observing! I knew that they would be back for more, so I decided to do something about it. I used my amazing tracking and stealth skills to locate their camp without them spotting me. When night fell, I went down to the poor slain creatures and filled up some skins with blood. I then returned to the harvesters' camp and made sure they were all asleep. As they dozed, I crept in and dumped the blood all over their gear and tents. With my last skin of blood, I ventured inland and left a trail of it behind me. In practically no time I was located by a pack of Arctic Wolf Fleas, who caught wind of the tasty blood. I ditched the skin and put distance between me and the blood. Since they don't feed on sap, the fleas ignored me and went for the blood. They latched onto the trail I left and headed straight to the site that absolutely reeked with food. Imagine the screams and shock that came from that camp when eight Arctic Wolf Fleas tore through their tents! For such mighty "hunters" they sure screamed and ran like frightened saplings! I had a good laugh at that, and also succeeded in driving those butchers away from the Pugnax colony. Sure, those hunters did wind up discovering me and seeking revenge, but it was well worth it. Besides, I figured things out in the end and I dissuaded them from taking part in the ivory trade. At least I think so, as that kind of depends on if those four ever made it back to civilization... Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian ---------------------------------- Hey look, an upside down walrus! HOW CREATIVE. Well, they can't all be winners, and the world needs to have some mundane in it.

#monster #creature #walrus #mammal #art #drawing

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bloody-delicious · 5 years

Note

Loving your writing so far! Welcome btw

thank you so much, you guys are too kind!♥️

The Entity x female survivor

-In terms of physical appearance, the Entity is a nasty sight. While it is more defined as an intangible, all consuming darkness, it retains the power to manifest in many different forms, as shown by the extensive realm it has created, each generation inside it molded from its builders’ own being. That being said, the Entity has tried, and failed, to replicate the human form, instead fabricating itself into a sacrilege travesty of its muse of flesh and blood; this foolish creature so blinded by its own hubris that it sought the power of God. Though its mimicry resulted in a horrible creature whose very existence mocked the beauty and divinity of the human body, the Entity took a liking to this form, and often wears this semblance for the very reason stated before.

-The Entity feeds off of excess, particularly in the form of violence. However, bloodlust is not the only emotion that appeals to this dark creation. Anger, hope, love, lust; all of these emotions can sustain it, therefore it greatly relishes one that offers it such deliciously deep passions. When you wander into the Entity’s arms, it is enthusiastic of your potential, burning deep inside your core like an ember suddenly bursting into scorching flame, the basic instinct of survival pumping through your veins with an irresistible and intoxicating allure, and oh, it simply must have more.

-You’ll find that your raw intensity will not go unrewarded. Whereas the other survivors whisper of a darkness moving amongst the shadows during trials, a glimpse of something far more terrible than that any killer lurking in the corners of their eyes, a sin so pure and untouched by any virtue that it seems to thicken the air and steal it from their lungs, fill them with darkness so complete and so devouring that their vision is robbed of any light, you’ll be given a greater honor. No quick glances of a monster under the bed, nor a ghost haunting your fleeting dream, no. You will be given the glory of seeing the Entity in its heinous sanctity, its morbid mockery of the flesh. Oh, don’t look away, savor this abhorrence, revel in this obscenity.

-Nearly tripling you in size, an illusion of creation itself stands with flesh dripping off itself in black fluid, thicker than tar and darker than the blackest of nights. A humanoid body half coated with a poor substitute for skin, and flesh, bone, blood, and all that encapsulates the soul. Meat and bone, underlying the darkness, tinted with an faux pigment of life, exposed in patches over the Entity, its entire body gaunt and emaciated, starved from the goodness of life, rejected by all that is holy to exist in the natural world. its face especially mutilated during the process of transfiguration, a rotting skull with a distended mandible, always hungry, always waiting to tear and rip and gorge itself on the suffering of those beneath it. Large hands with long, bony fingers mirroring the claws used to collect its sacrifices of such beautiful anguish.

-In the coming time, if you continue to cling to your soul, your fire, your life, the Entity will become increasingly intrigued, almost drunk on your sheer essence. Sightings of the creature become more frequent, the crackling of bones and the derangement of its whole being filling your ears with a morbid melody as it nears, its presence absorbing all around you, impossible to ignore, impossible to allow you to focus on anything else but it. Refuse it and be punished, accept it and give yourself into an abysmal, immeasurable sin, a sin of which the Devil weeps and even God’s light cannot penetrate.

-The Entity will never dull your pain during trials, but should you escape, it may find the desire to absorb this misery from your body, drink it from you like the sweetest nectar. After barely eluding the killer’s deadly knife, you will be greeted by it. Instead of rest, recovery, you are rewarded with the cocooning bearing of the Entity, held tightly by its lethal claws, at the hands of which unimaginable destruction has been forged. Sweet creature, precious thing, how your heart beats, how your soul suffers...

#txt #dead by daylight #slasher x reader #the entity #this isnt as...romantic? as it should have been but #i tried lol

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faunusrights · 5 years

Text

OFFAL HUNT REMASTER LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 8? IS IT 8 ALREAD- YEAH IT IS.

oh god its been 8 weeks already i dont like that these chapters reveal how much time im WASTING but c’est la vie as always lets put these assholes on blast:

moving SWIFTLY on!!!!!!!!!!!!

(also what do you mean ‘it’s the meat chapter’. wh. what meat. hello.)

She slumped back against uncomfortably warm stone, trying to tuck her feet back into the shade.

it’s a known fact that glynda is all Long all Angles and also a lot of Beef,

this is? the date, right? the date chapter? yes? all the chapters have been shuffled around i have NO sense of where i am because all thats happened for 7 chapters is ive been assaulted by lesbians but given the distant chanting of meat meat meat this must be the date.... right.........................................

OH THAT MEANS WE GET TO SEE CINDER’S DRESS NICE

Cinder’s smile flashed through Glynda’s mind, and she shifted against the stone wall, reaching for her Scroll.

my favourite thing is how whenever cinder and glynda think of each other its never not got crazy gay energy............. this is LITERALLY like the whole ‘i sleep next to a photo of my enemy’ deal!!!!!!!!!!! they’re both just attracted to dangerous (and also stupid) people, is the thing,

The Grimm swarmed, biting insects with snapping mandibles, their chitinous exoskeletons all scraping against one another with their constant, eager writhings.

YES thats some GOOD IMAGERY RIGHT THERE IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF UH-HUH

honestly i- OKAY LOOK I SAID IT BEFORE BUT I STAND BY HOW OFFAL HUNT IS SO VISCERAL... i love writing thats like............ kinda Uncomfy to imagine but also rly detailed and just rly digs into the gore and the grossness............ its GOOD CONTENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! thank god offal hunt just whaps u in the face w/ it like a damp sock,

we’re got a bit of slow start here which is a nice way to slice the difference between earlier ‘gotta go fast’ glyn and this ‘actually i’m way out of my depth’ glyn. wow! i can BREATHE. and we havent had anything massively cheeky pop up yet which may be a new record all round

The ripples of its being reached Glynda with ease, consuming those of the smaller Grimm. It was dangerous. More dangerous by far, even out here among these ancient beasts.

mmmmmmmmmmm this is- okay slight spoilers but i presume this is hati? aka he who had like a handful of lines in the first version and was generally just... look hati was winner of The Most Vague award in the first version so i’m hoping its hati because i am CURIOUS ABT THIS BOY.................. who i coincidentally love. who is he? we’re not sure (yet) but i love him. its just a fact!

It wasn’t just consumption. It was desecration. Vile unmaking. The Grimm stripped away her flesh. Tasted of her marrow. Gorged itself on the gristle between her bones and peeled back her ribs to reveal the chasm within. It sucked the soul from her chest in a wash of red and agony that spanned centuries, each running over the raw meat of her like long, black claws—

I JUST LOVE THE WAY THIS SHIT GETS DESCRIBED ITS SO SATISFYING also i feel like there should be a tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiny fingerguns in here t e c h n i c a l l y but im not gonna cause its vague enough i can kiiiiiiiiiiiiiinda move on kinda slightly maybe

It felt like death itself had caught her in its massive maw, chilling her organs, reaching for the soul at the core of her.

OKAY FINE 👈😡👈

OKAY FINE YEAH THE REST OF THIS IS ALL CHEEKY FINGERGUNS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that said this is all RLY VITAL STORYTELLING and im rly glad we’ve got some expanded Glynda Lore because it was Lacking in the archived version... but now we’re full on until glynda backstory babey!!!!!!!! yeah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fear itself couldn’t touch her, and even as she thought this, she felt it drain away.

Her breathing slowed. Her body relaxed. Information trickled in, unburdened by emotion.

👈👈👈😡👈👈👈

glynda rly DOES only have half a braincell Huh

OKAY DATE TIME? DATE TIME? YES? MAYBE?????????????? god ive been looking forward to this stupid gay date for so long. EIGHT WEEKS. EIGHT.

A pause. “Are you familiar with the Hill of Roses Massacre?”

ah the return of the Plot (that Isnt The Gay Bit)

i was gonna Say A Thing, and then answered my own question, and then realised it’d be spoilers anyway. YAY SPOILERS! YAY NOT BEING ABLE 2 SAY ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so yeah theres a lot going on here dsdjhgf

“Well, it was your class, so.” She couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

/ticks off ‘anything to do w/ ozpin’ off the bingo card, again,

“I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that, Glynda. With this meeting on the horizon… I fear I would cloud your judgement.”

oz i love u and yr cryptic bullshit but this will not the first Nor The Last Time glynda and i are both exasperated w/ u. please. blease.

Ozpin had never misled her before.

👈😂👈

“I’m only following orders.” Written with the same implication as a wink. “Now, is there anything else I can help you with, Professor?”

i fucking adore winter schnee i’d DIE for her

i may have to make a spoiler version of this later because theres Some Shit being said here and i DIRELY have to expand upon it but that will have 2 wait dskfjsdf

When they saw she was human, they waved her through without any trouble.

i still feel like im being targeted for my url!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! U ASSHOLES,

As much as she could, Glynda tried to avoid the constant bump of shoulders and too-tight quarters. As large as she was, it was nearly impossible,

what did i say!!!!!!!!!!!!! we LOVE one beefy bitch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(im literally getting SO excited for the date reveal im VIBRATING)

She still didn’t have much of an idea what waited within, but she had quite a few reservations about using the front door.

me: knows whats coming also me: glynda please

As a Huntress who’d been trained in both subtlety and stealth, Glynda had a few ideas.

The next person who stepped outside was thrown roughly aside,

ME: GLYNDA PLEASE,

you have no idea how often im just. i have my face in my hands. glynda’s never heard of a repercussion in her life. cinder once saw the word ‘consequences’ and broke out into hives. im. where’s the thinking-

And then she noticed Cinder.

here comes the peak gay im so ready HERE IT COMES-

Her hair was tossed over one shoulder as always, but in place of her usual crimson dress, she wore black tonight. Dark fabric with but a hint of iridescent specks rippled around her ankles, rising up to stretch tight across her hips. It rose all the way to the hollow of her throat and was cut to be sleeveless, though Cinder wore gloves of the same material that rose nearly to her shoulders.

HERE IT IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god u may know i drew a shitpost of this scene and now i Have to redraw it to be even Sexier!!!!!!!!!! also i know glynda could argue she’s being Observant but i also think, she’s a home of saxophone, and is gay,

LIKE ‘stretch tight across her hips’ WHY YA L O O K I N

Glass heels clicked over the dark stone floor as Cinder stopped right in front of Glynda, looking up at her from beneath lofty bangs. Gold eyes swept from the crown of Glynda’s head to the crop gripped so tightly in her hand—and then Cinder smiled.

there is No heterosexual explanation for this

Cinder clicked her tongue. “Well, now that you’re here, shall we?”

“Shall we…?”

“Glynda,” she chided, rolling her eyes. “Dinner, of course.”

IM LOSING MY MIND AAAAAAAAAAAAA THEY’RE LESBIANS HAROLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HAROLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

okay. okay. this still isnt QUITE THE DATE CHAPTER BUT WE’RE RLY IN IT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! im so scared that a whole chap has been saved for this meal because its going to be so long and charged w/ lesbian energy and its gonna kill me BUT OH WELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! anyway i loved it. the end.

#rwby #offal hunt #liveblog

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angelia-dark · 7 years

Text

Going Shopping

This was supposed to be one of my Octobertale pledges, but I was unfortunately ill for most of the month. Better late than never!

A super-special shout-out to @redtomatofan for THIS AMAZING ART and inspiring me to do some more Horrortale! I might not have gotten all the pledges for it, but the rest I’m chalking up as a gift for ya!

My Ko-Fi/Pledges

My Commission Page

GOING SHOPPING

Rating: E

Warnings: Gore, Starvation, Insanity, Cannibalism.

Summary: Brother has been working so hard lately. He deserves a treat! A nice…fresh…handmade meal should be just the thing.

It was especially quiet today, Papyrus mused to himself as he strolled down the dark, worn path of Snowdin's road. Then again, it was Sunday, and Sundays were generally quiet anyway. Still, for it to be so quiet, he wondered if he had forgotten a sleep-in holiday in his haste to make it through his rounds of Snowdin.

No, that couldn't be right. Sans had gotten up early to go to work; if today was a holiday the lazybones would have slept in along with most of Snowdin.

Then again, he thought as he slowed his pace to the next house, Sans HAD been out and about more frequently lately. Leaving earlier, coming home later, always seeming more tired by the day...his work ethic had certainly improved, even if his appetite hadn't.

Papyrus looked down at the small bowl of spaghetti in his hands; it was still mostly full since the only ones to answer the door had been Rabbit family and the little Monster Kid. They were ALWAYS happy to see food come their way and it warmed his soul to see them fed, even if Prissy's little Rabbit brother had been absent today and Prissy said he didn't need any. Strange. There was still a stop to the Dogs further back in the woods where they seemed to remain, even if they all looked too cold in the snow, and then.....

....well, and then there would be no more spaghetti left for Sans.

A frown crept into Papyrus's smile as he slowed his pace, thinking of his big brother. Sans was eating less and less and staying out later and later. Even by Papyrus's great standards of work ethic, that was a bit much. And as much as he was proud of Sans going out and being productive, it would do no good if Sans was hungry the whole time.

His step faltered slightly at that word - 'hungry'. It was such an unpleasant word, an unpleasant FEELING. He could almost remember bad dreams of being so hungry, like he would waste away into nothing at any moment and would do ANYTHING......ANYTHING......for a mouthful of SOMETHING. He almost shuddered. Terrible thing to dream about, really.

But still...

He looked down at the bowl of spaghetti, a gnawing twist clenching at his soul as he stared at it. Deftly, he felt a thin trail of saliva drip over his mandible and quickly wiped it away, turning his eyelights back to the path. He had to feed the Dogs, he told himself firmly. The less fortunate must eat first. And then he would eat what was left. There were many others not as fortunate as he, and he had a duty to help them.

So he quelled down those selfish HUNGRY feelings. They were unimportant. Insignificant. Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Papyrus silently trekked back toward Snowdin, clutching the empty bowl to his thin rib cage as a shudder quivered through his bones. The wind was picking up in preparation for another snowfall and the chill was digging into his frame. His steps felt heavier and more sluggish in the snow, matching perfectly with his mental state. His sense of direction was disoriented as the distracting gnawing on his soul became too strong to ignore.

He paused to rest against a tree, leaning against it tiredly as he looked down at the bowl. There was nothing left, none for him, OR for Sans.

Oh, if only there were extras stored in the fridge back home! A nice dinner with his brother would be just the thing to warm the bones on a day like this, but now there was nothing.

The gnawing twisted hard, almost painfully, and Papyrus couldn't help the moisture that collected at his eye sockets. He reached up and wiped at them, sniffling softly. How could he have neglected his brother at a time like this, and after everything he'd done for them? Sans deserved something special, not to come home to NOTHING!

Papyrus dropped the bowl, wiping at his eye sockets to dry them, then paused when he smelled something.

Something GOOD.

Saliva threaded from between his teeth again at the wonderful, delicious scent as he sniffed the air, searching for the source of it and saw a flicker of movement through the trees. Peering around silently, Papyrus's eyelights glimmered when he saw it.

A HUMAN.

Some time ago, he'd be so enthusiastic about capturing them and taking them to the Capitol, but that was THEN. NOW, Sans explained it perfectly.

Humans were an EXCELLENT source of meat.

Naturally, he'd been skeptical; humans were not meant for eating, were they? After all, the small human that passed by long ago didn't seem to be the type for eating. But Sans told him that humans were beasts, no different than cows or birds that went into other forms of food. It was just propaganda that humans were on par with Monster intelligence, and caricatured like in the cartoons to be sentient enough for it to be considered cannibalism to eat. The noises they made were just clever mimicry of speech to avoid being killed, but cattle was cattle, in the end.

This human was much bigger than the one that fell down here before, almost as tall as Papyrus's shoulders. Big, full, healthy-looking...and smelled absolutely DIVINE. Oh, he could just IMAGINE what it would be like once cooked!

Papyrus almost jumped in place and clapped his hands with glee; here was the meal he had been wanting to feed his brother! Wouldn't Sans just be so surprised to come home to a fresh, filling dinner! Well, there was no sense in letting the Dogs get greedy after having been fed, Papyrus thought to himself as he conjured a bone into his hand and slipped silently through the trees toward the human.

It was rare that he got to do this, Papyrus thought to himself as he sorted out different buckets. Usually it was Sans who went out and procured fresh meat when it became available, but Papyrus was no stranger as to how 'meat' was made.

He'd walked in on Sans separating out the bits and pieces long ago, and while the sight had been slightly jarring, he came to understand the necessity. He couldn't deny that the end result was more than satisfactory in the end as well. As long as he could get through the noise and the mess, the rest was smooth sailing.

And oh, how it WAS messy. And loud. But he remedied at least one of those issues.

Papyrus picked up a handsaw and turned to the human, who was tied down to a table with a cloth stuffed into its mouth to muffle the uncouth shouting that Papyrus knew would no doubt irritate his hearing. He would have preferred to make the human stop moving entirely, but Sans told him the longer they were up and kicking (so to speak), the fresher and better-tasting the meat would be. So naturally, he would begin from the extremities and work his way in.

The human was jerking in its binds, staring with wide eyes as it attempted to shout through the gag. Amazing, Papyrus thought, how it tried to imitate speech like a Monster. He'd be inclined to keep one for a pet one day, but not one of these big ones. The smaller ones were much more well-behaved. The bigger ones were much better for food.

Papyrus hummed to himself as he prodded the human's abdominal cavity, feeling a shudder roll over his bones when he felt the promising nudge of viscera under the skin. Those bits made some fantastic meatballs, while the general meat was better for freezing and saving for later. The very thought of having their fridge full once more had saliva threading down his mandible, but he had to save those for last. They were best when warm, after all.

He cheerfully wasted no time then in grasping the left thigh of the human and pressing the handsaw in, getting right to work.

Immediately the mess started, but Papyrus was prepared. Several buckets were around the table to prevent the mess from getting everywhere on the floor, and Papyrus would use it as some lovely marinade sauce later down the line. The human hollered and jerked around harder on the table, but Papyrus held tight, sawing through the bone until the first leg became detached.

It was very firm and meaty, Grade A quality! Sure to be very nutritious and filling. He deposited the leg into one of the buckets nearby and then turned his attention to the other, giving it the same treatment.

The whole time, the human screamed through the gag and Papyrus was glad he thought to put it in while it was still unconscious. The noise would have surely been unbearable by this point. He finished with the limbs, depositing them into the bucket before picking up one of the butcher knives that Sans kept sharpened and tracing a shallow line over the abdomen. The human was starting to go quiet and still, and Papyrus knew that while he appreciated the silence, he had to work faster now. Meat was less appetizing and savory when it got cold.

He always marveled at just how MUCH humans had inside of them! Handfuls and handfuls of organs that he knew the names of thanks to a book in his room, and recipes for all of them stored by memory. He set the knife aside and began shifting the organs into a bucket and making a mental note of the different recipes he could cook tonight, tomorrow, all WEEK!

As the abdominal cavity was emptied, Papyrus was unable to ignore the raw, gnawing HUNGER that wrenched at his soul, begging to be satiated. Saliva trickled down his mandible as he contemplated the organs, thinking that he deserved a treat for his good deeds today. He reached his hand into the gored cavity, enclosing it around the last of the organs -the heart, he knew- and pulled it out.

It looked so sweet and appetizing, like the juiciest apple on the tree. The perfect little treat for himself. His jaws parted as he bit into the organ, and the indescribable taste filled his mouth.

Simply

Indescribable.

He cupped the heart in his hands, tearing into it ravenously until it was devoured entirely.

The hunger quelled in his soul ever so slightly, but it was enough for now. It was ENOUGH.

Papyrus buried his skull in his blood-soaked hands and wept.

Sans kicked the snow from his shoes as he stepped onto his porch. Another day, another head dog stand, another evening coming home empty-handed. It was beginning to become a thing now, for Monsters nearby to eat their own rather than let him have them. Prissy's little brother was gone, no doubt having been eaten by the other Rabbits after becoming too weak to be of use to even feed anymore.

A shame; Rabbits were his favorite neighbors to bring home for dinner.

He scowled to himself. He hated coming home empty-handed after nearly a week without food, and if that frozen pile of spaghetti he passed on the way home were any indication, Papyrus already gave the last of what they had away. His little brother's bones were becoming thinner by the day, that once-tall, proud frame becoming hunched and grotesque as this wretched curse spread over the Underground. Some days, he almost wished Papyrus would notice so they could go out and feed TOGETHER...but in a Hell like this, ignorance was the only kindness left for Papyrus to have.

Sans sighed, brushing snow from the edge of his broken skull before walking inside.

Immediately, the nauseatingly-savory scent of food plunged into his nasal cavity, almost knocking him senseless. Had he died at last and achieved a blessed afterlife? He shook his head; no need to go even madder than he already was. But the smell was still there, which meant it was REAL.

"Papyrus?" he called in. From the kitchen came the clatter of dishes and the sound of his brother's humming.

"Oh, Sans, you're home!" came Papyrus's chirpy response, and his brother walked out of the kitchen, wearing a stained pink 'Kiss the Chef' apron and baking mitts. "Dinner is almost ready!"

Sans almost swayed in place; dinner? "Dinner?" he echoed from his thoughts. "You have...dinner?"

Papyrus squealed, clapping his gloved hands. "Surprise!" he crooned, hopping in place. "I was out doing my rounds, and I found a HUMAN! A BIG one!" The spark of pure joy glistened in his shrunken eye sockets in a way that warmed Sans's soul. "I caught it and made something special for dinner, just for you!"

His demeanor settled softly. "You've been working so hard, Sans, and this is just the thing you deserve for all your efforts!"

Sans felt his mandible quiver and his eye sockets moisten. By the gods, was his brother just...just the COOLEST. "Yer the best, Paps..." he murmured, wiping at his eye sockets with the back of his sleeve. "I don't know what I did to deserve ya."

Papyrus beamed, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder. "Nonsense Sans, you're just lucky is all!" he replied. Now come sit down and eat!" He flounced back into the kitchen as Sans sat down, the elder brother trying to quell the urge to tear into the kitchen and stuff his face with any and everything he found, and waited for Papyrus to bring him his meal.

A whole baked liver garnished with tongue strips.

His favorite.

#angelia-dark fic pledge #undertale #horrortale #gore #cannibalism

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