Chance's Guide to surviving space (and maybe make a few friends)

by Yume_xhan

Summary:

Getting abducted by aliens was not on this year's to do list for Chance. It's not like he can do anything about it now.

 

(Or a Humans are space orcs au, cause author got obsessed by space once again.)

Chapter 1: Chance gets abducted by aliens, and meets a few companions.

Chance’s relationship with luck is always complicated.  

 

He has a knack for getting in the strangest situations possible and getting out of them mostly unscratched.

 

Really, he has gotten into unbelievable situations before.  

 

Every single one of them pales in front of this one. Getting abducted by aliens like the protagonist of some crappy horror movie? Part of him wonders if he’s still dreaming at this point.

 

Ugh, this is unbelievable. Out of all of the things that could have happened to him for running in a forest. This was the last possibility that crossed his mind. Really, old Chance is probably laughing at him. He had been having too much luck lately winning those Russian Roulette games. 

 

“Guess fate had to balance itself somehow” He mumbles into his shirt. 

 

The room – if it could even be called that, it feels more like an oversized vet cage – is completely white. It smells nauseatingly like hospital chemicals, a sharp metallic odor perforating through the stillness of the air. The lights glow a blinding white.

 

His headache worsens – it feels as if his brain is going to start leaking any time soon.  

 

It’s better than his first one, a really dark cage that transported him God knows where. At least this one is solid and not bumping into things constantly. He still has bruises from that particular place. He ignores the small burns from electricity that covers his body.

 

The place is spotless, not a single trace of dirt in the cell. There’s a high security door with a food latch, just to give it that final touch. He’s definitely trapped inside here for the remainder of his life.  

 

“If they were going for a creepy medical prision, they did an outstanding job” - Chance exclaims to himself, fidgeting with the coin in his pocket. His voice is raspy from all of the screaming. - “0 out of ten for creativity though. This looks like it came from a basic horror story starter kit” 

 

A couple of weird creatures pass in front of him, chittering in front of his door. They signal to his cell while taking notes in clipboards.

 

Chance feels like a Zoo animal, every single breath of his is studied. The weird goop like spiders stare at him for what feels like an eternity. 

 

“Jeez, didn’t your mother teach you not to stare?” - He flips the coin, trying to swallow his fear. The coin feels strange in his numb hands, falling to the floor in a deafening click. Great, they are staring more now.  

 

He decides to stay in a far corner, as far away from the aliens as he can manage. The bars sparkle with electricity, a slight buzz present as a permanent warning.  

 

It feels like hours until the aliens finally leave. A bottle of water and a bowl of food. It’s an authentic culinary crime, he’s sure his mama would have a stroke just from the sight.

 

A purple goop substance that lacks flavor, it has chunks of something crunchy also. It’s plain, disgusting and someone please teach these aliens how to season food. He’s not really complaining though, beggars can’t be choosers.  

 

He only drinks half of the bottle before storing it in under the bed. Chance didn’t pay any attention to health class, but he knows enough. Humans can’t last without water very long.

 

The lights soon dim, the signal for nighttime. He tries to get as comfortable as possible. The mask that clings to his nose makes it hard for him to sleep. Well, really, everything her made it hard to sleep.  

 

Today wasn’t that bad – was the only thought that run through his head – at least there weren’t any exams.  

 

It’s not long before he succumbs into restless slumber.  

 

---

 

Chance wakes up to the sounds of screams. 

 

High pitched, raw, animalistic whimpers. It’s a horrid cacophony over the grumbled words and what sounds as pleading.   

 

The lights flash a deep red from the spot where he’s hiding – mind foggy from sleep. His only response is to observe, right now there’s no way he can fight those things. His body feels oddly heavy.

 

Now that he thinks about it. He’s sure the aliens put something on the water, his brain is fuzzy.  

 

A whole army of aliens enter his room, weapons on their shoulders as they shout orders. Three huge sacks are thrown with little care to the floor, landing with a harsh thud. His mind starts getting clearer by the minute – he’s lucky drugs in space aren’t that strong. 

 

The sacks start moving, the whimpering getting louder. The only response the other guards give is cruel chitters that sound like laughter as they kick the sack once. Whatever is on those sacks is alive. It’s alive and wounded.

 

It sounds like a kicked puppy. 

 

The conclusion is enough to get him to his feet. A deep scream tearing from his vocal cords, these idiots have invaded his personal space for too long. He doesn’t even care if the things on those sacks where aliens. He’s tired, too tired to deal with this.

 

Finally, they leave them alone. The adrenaline bursts through his veins, leaving him jittery and overwhelmed. That was the worst way to wake up possible. This cage is barely big enough for himself, how if it going to fit three possibly aggressive aliens? 

 

“Just when I thought life couldn’t get any weirder”- He mumbles to himself, slightly hysteric - “Looks like my lucky streak is ending soon.”  

 

The first sack moves, a tiny hand peering through the opening. The creature that tumbles is tiny with small antennae in the shape of a halo.

 

There’s a purple substance covering its small back – oh Chance hopes that isn’t blood – with wing-like limbs covered in flowers. It looks back at him with huge eyes, trembling.  

 

It’s a bit creepy in a cute way, the way its white body is covered in flowers. Still, Chance doesn’t approach. The little alien is clearly scared of him, trying frantically to open the other two sacks.  

 

If Chance moves slightly its way, the creature gets more stressed. 

 

A sudden burst of light makes him shield his eyes. When he opens them, he finds out the creature has grown almost as tall as him. Its humanoid, as it uses force to pry the other two sacks open before collapsing, shrinking back to its original size.

 

Chance stares in awe at the little creature, he didn’t know aliens could do that. Awe quickly turns into slight panic, when he sees the creature tremors are worse. Shaking violently in a way it couldn’t be normal.  

 

He looks around, inspecting the other aliens from his corner. A yellow moth-like alien, with delicate wings and faded pink in the bottom of the fluff of its neck. The other one looked like a yellow deer, with hooves and streaks of red in the fur. Both of them were passed out completely.

 

They seemed alive. 

 

He needs to call these aliens something, he can’t continue refering to them as it. It's getting confusing.  

 

Chance sighs, looking at the suffering creature. It's probably cold, this place is freezing, and its bleeding. He probably shouldn’t help it, still it's a mere prisoner like chance himself.  

 

He grabs the blanket before standing up. Carefully, he wraps the small creature around it – mindful of the small wings it had on its back. “You are going to be fairy” - He says leaving a water bottle next to the sleeping alien.

“That’s mmm...  Mothman” - Chance says amused, signaling vaguely at the creature.  

 

Walking back to the corner he chose to himself, he looks at the last alien. “Well, I guess you can be Bambi” - He speaks to the unconscious creatures.  

 

God, he hopes they are not hostile.  

Chapter 2: Elliot's no good, very bad day... Is that A HUMAN?

Summary:

Tw: dehumanization.

Elliot doesn't think Chance is sentient! That'll change in the future!

Every alien has bad days – Elliot is no exception. This is not just a bad day, in fact, he would argue this level of unluckiness needs to be studied.  

 

He’s back at one of the Specter’s ships, after escaping, not even three cycles ago.  

 

As he struggles to sit, folding his hooves into a better position with a hum. His head rises to study the old cell, maybe something has changed since the last time he was trapped in here. 

 

It had, and not for the better.   

 

The cell is an overkill – way too much security for the three of them. A cervitaurion, nymphling and icemothling aren’t in any way, terrifying creatures. Defenseless, many would say. Fragile, even. The laughingstock of the rest of aliens. 

 

Yet here they sat, behind the highest security electrotech bars, the kind used only for deathworlders – dangerous creatures which only rumors are known about. Deadly.

 

Enough to send several planets into lockdown.  

 

Which confused him to no end, why them?  

A shiver runs through his spine, is it the cold? Or the sensation of being watched? He’s not sure. The smell of chemicals burns through his sensitive nose. He hates this place.  

 

Desperate for a distraction, he turns to look at his companions. Noob is curled on herself – wings wrapped in a makeshift cocoon. She looks fine, the cold probably doesn’t bother her.

 

After all, icemothlings come from a very frigid planet. Making a quick assessment of her injuries, a sigh of relief slips through his lips, she looks fine. 

 

That relief turns into confusion, looking over to his other companion. Two time is swaddled gently in a small blanket – purple blood covers his back and wings.

 

They are tiny, shrunk in the smallest form possible.

 

The aliens on this ship aren’t known for being kind, void arachnids are cruel, especially these ones.  

 

So why, why is his friend covered so gently with a blanket?  

 

Even more intriguing, he finds a bottle of water next to them. 

 

A frightened yelp makes him jump. Turning to look at a now wide-awake Noob, hands shaking as she stutters. Her wings flap aggressively, a mix of chirps and jingles, she’s afraid. 

 

“Elliot!”- She gasps out, the sound coming so desperate, it keeps him on edge. “Elliot” She repeats, signaling to a far corner of the room. 

 

“Noob? Calm down, it’ll be fine”- He tries to reassure her, cradling the swaddled bundle in his arms. She doesn’t seem to hear him, instead, growing more frantic.  

 

Noob is normally a really nervous alien, getting easily frightened. Still, this level of raw desperation is uncharacteristic of them. She’s shaking from fear.

 

A soft jingle coming from her wings. Her body’s defense mechanism acting up. Something must be seriously wrong.  

 

Squinting his eyes in the darkened room, he sees it. They are not alone.

 

All of the security measures suddenly make sense. 

 

There in the dark is a tall creature, bare skin lacking any fur or scales, long appendages with curvy ends. Eyes glowing slightly in the dark as it flashes its teeth. A universal signal of aggression.  

 

“A human.”- Elliot murmurs hysterically, clutching Two time tightly against this chest. “An actual, living, breathing human.” 

 

Noob makes a frightened chitter – the jingle of her wings growing more aggressive while scrambling to hide behind him. Elliot keeps his eyes focused on the human. He knows that he can’t defend them.

 

He’s just a medic and if Humans are as feral as they are described then he stands no chance against it.   

 

The human looks unfazed, completely docile for a level 4 deathworlder. It makes a couple of nonsensical grumbles, deep, too deep to be normal.  

 

It seems to look curiously at the small bundle in his arms. Signaling to the water discarded to the side. It looks intelligent, almost sentient, though that thought is laughable. Humans aren’t sentient. There is no sentient life in the level 3 and 4 deathworlds.  

 

Maybe it’s a very intelligent animal back in its world. Either way, it might work on their favor. Elliot has dealt with dangerous creatures before. Being the only medic on his crew, he’s worked as a vet too. For dangerous animals that suffer from trafficking circles. 

 

“Noob, I’m going to do something either very brave or very stupid”- Elliot whispers, slowly folding his hooves back to a sitting position. Trying to look smaller, less menacing.

 

The human tilts its head curiously, a weird garble coming from its mouth.  

 

It seems interested in Two time. Was it the one that swaddled them? Maybe it thinks they are a cub. Elliot can work with that. This animal seems to have parental instincts. Either that or it wants to eat them.   

 

“Hello there”- He coos, the motion is completely ridiculous. Noob is staring at him as if he’s lost his head. He probably has, treating the dangerous deathworlder as if it were a mere catteni cub.

Either this works and they survive this encounter or it doesn’t. 

 

This creature can maim them without trouble. 

 

Who knows how much time they’ll spend in here? If they even get rescued in the first place. It’ll take cycles for their crew to find them in the first place. The void arachnids probably placed them here to get rid of them.

 

After all, they have harvested every single flower of Two times body. Everyone knows those ones can’t grow back in captivity. 

 

Nymphlings are extremely sensitive creatures, feeding of heat and lifeforces of other beings. Under extreme stress, they shrink, growing small wings that harvest especial flowers.

 

It lets them flee and defend themselves, it also leaves them sickly. They’ll need to feed from energy, or they’ll die. It’s the reason they live in colonies surrounded by nature.  

 

Two time is no exception, even if his colony is kind of creepy.  

 

“Noob, let your wings fall! We can’t intimidate it!” He whispers, letting his arms fall to the side. Two time makes a delirious noise from their cocoon, a mix of a chitter and a whimper. Elliot holds him as tight as he can without raising his arms.

 

Surprisingly the blanket is helping, they don’t look at the brink of death anymore.  

 

“Elliot, are-” She takes a big gulp of air, lowering her wings slightly. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”  

 

“No, but it’s my only one!”- He replies panicked, hopefully it loses interest in them. They’ll just stay in this corner of the room. Standing slowly, he takes little steps to the far corner, beckoning Noob to do the same.  

 

The human takes one step forward, crunching its nose curiously. Elliot shakes a bit more violently, hurrying a little more. 

 

“We’ll stay here alright, we won’t move.”- He signals to themselves, then to the space next to the walls. Before sitting down slowly, cradling Two time against his chest. Noob follows his steps silently.

 

Dropping right next to him and curling her body against his side, the two icemothlings wings covering them from the cold.  

 

The human only chirps in response, mimicking their movements. It looks perfectly happy to stay there in the corner. They probably fed it already. There's no way it would be this docile otherwise.  

 

Noob lays sleeping next to him, they must be tired from the events of today. He wraps his arms around her, just observing. The deathworlder is different than what he expected. 

 

It’s soft, squishy skin is covered by some weird cloth. In its hand, there’s a small metal circle, it keeps flipping it around. Making little squeals and grumbles every now and then.

 

It looks nothing like the dangerous apex predator that destroys villages.  

 

Time passes slowly. It’s the middle of the orbit when the door suddenly shakes violently.  

 

Thud. 

 

A tray with bottled water and barely enough food for a single alien. The human starts walking to the tray, grabbing the bottle before sliding the food to their side. The half bottle of water, still, discarded on their side.  

 

“This is for us?” He looks with confusion at the human before realizing. “Right, you can’t understand me”- Maybe it isn’t hungry, still, he bows his head lightly, muttering a short. “Thank you”

 

Maybe, just, maybe. They’ll survive this place once more.

Notes:

Nymphlings or nymphoids: Extremely rare creatures who live in colonies, they are known for their fragility. They can change size. In situations of extreme stress, they’ll use part of their vital energy to form wing-like appendages that allow them to flee but remain really weak or sickly after the danger passes.

The flowers that grow on their body and wings are made of elemental energy, hence, rumors that it can cure any illness. They feed on energy they get from plants or the heat of other lifeforces.

(Yes, they still have problems with religion, that's something they are not safe from in any universe.)

Chapter 3: And now for my report, let's see how Chance is holding up... WAIT CHANCE?!

Summary:

Chance is tired, give the man his cards back.

TW: Violence kind of grafic, Mentions of human experimentation, Chance suffering.

Chance learned a few things from his new roommates.  

 

First, they all spoke in different languages yet understood each other perfectly. Well – assuming they are speaking. Chance wouldn’t know, it all sounds like chittering to him.

 

Probably the work of some freaky alien technology, that’s a can of worms he’s not ready to open yet. So, he doesn’t question it.   

 

The next thing, the rations of food the spiders tossed with disregard were smaller. Smaller is the understament of the year. Which is honestly ridiculous, given the fact that there are four people crammed inside this tiny cell, Four! In what universe does more people equal less food? Were they stupid?  

 

And third—the big one—they seemed absolutely terrified of him. Not wary, not cautious, but straight-up afraid. If he so much as cleared his throat, they’d flinch. Chance had never thought of himself as scary.

 

Back on Earth, he had zero chance of intimidating anyone (Pun intended). So why would things be any different out here in space? He wonders briefly, if it’s something the arachnids told them.

 

He shuts that line of thought quickly, memories of experiments passing through his eyes.  

 

The silence presses down on him, broken only by the high-pitched squeaks of alien throats and the occasional raspy cough. The sound makes Chance’s chest tighten—it’s a reminder that one of them is sick, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it.

 

He looks over to the Aliens, who cradle the sick one on their arms tenderly. Eyes focused on him. 

 

 Worse, they look at him as if he’s the sickness itself, some monster straight out of a horror movie.  

 

So, he talks. Quietly, carefully, the way you might soothe a spooked dog. His words are meaningless here—he knows they can’t understand a lick of English—but it’s all he has. 

 

He rambles mindlessly about Earth, about bright neon casino lights, about the cold rain sinking into his skin, about the exhilaration of winning a hand, about the time he got banned from the kitchen for setting cereal on fire.

 

Anything to fill the suffocating void. 

 

The aliens huddle together, trembling, staring. The deer one, Bambi as he nicknamed them, looks more curious than afraid lately. 

 

His throat is horribly dry. Yet Chance keeps talking, as much for himself as for them—because if he stops, the silence will swallow him whole.  

 

Time passed in a loop so dull it could win a competition. He’d wake up, ramble, and watch his cellmates flinch like he’s a wild animal ready to pounce.

 

Then came mealtime, when the spiders served up their daily culinary hate crime—something that technically counted as food if you ignored taste, smell, and dignity. He split it four ways, went to sleep on cold stone, and repeated the process.  

 

No jackpots, no lights, no thrill– just the house winning every damn time. 

 

He’d gotten so bored he started mimicking them. Like some toddler at a petting zoo, he’d flap his mouth around, trying to recreate their squeaks and chitters. Stretching his lips in his best imitation of them.

 

The results were… embarrassing. Whatever came out of his throat sounded less like alien language and more like a deflating air ballon.  

 

The look on their faces makes it absolutely worth it. The wide-eye gobsmacked expression replacing the usual fear. Bambi looks awestruck like a child watching a card trick – before they snap back to their usual skittish self.  

 

One morning –or what he assumes to be morning– Chance barely has energy to continue with his boring routine. The white walls feel less like a cell and more like a death sentence.

 

A deep sadness that poisons him. He doesn’t know what triggered it. Maybe loneliness, maybe the weight of everything and nothing at all. 

 

He shuts his eyes, trying to grasp at his memories. Sunlight, the way the warmth seeped into his bare skin, it feels like a far-away memory now.

 

He’d like to have his spray paints – to hear the faint hiss of them, to feel the buzz of colors overlapping against each other. Maybe bright neon pink – the color he bought only to annoy his best... friend.

 

Right, anyway. For a second he imagines coating this miserable place with it, drowning the white in bright colors. Playing one last hand at poker, shuffling real cards. 

 

A sigh slips past his lips – that’s just fantasy, he knows it. Just nostalgia talking. He wonders, if there's an entity watching over him. It wouldn’t matter either way. No matter what others say, Chance knows how to stay quiet. In fact.

 

Today, he decides, it’s his quiet day. He curls onto himself, ignoring his hunger, instead letting his thoughts drift. 

 

His brain, desperate for a distraction, refuses to shut up. It drags him back to the most embarrassing moments of his life. Back to that cursed exam, the one with 150 questions and the essay that ate a third of his grade.

 

Three hundred words on politics, like some kind of academic torture device. Yeah—maybe not anything for distraction. Thanks. 

 

Maybe a puzzle. Maybe some cards. Harmless relaxing things. 

 

Then—sound. A soft jingle, delicate as the porcelain windchimes by his garden door. His mom used to love those. The chimes mix with a faint trill. A humming vibration travels through his back and settles on his ribs. 

 

Chance lifts his head slightly. There, fluttering nervous wings, is Mothman. Not the harsh panicked flapping from before, but something gentler, almost soothing.

 

The noise fills the silence like water spilling into a cracked cup. 

 

For once, he doesn’t need to fill the silence. For once, his head isn’t a storm. He lets the sound wash over him, lets his mind finally go quiet. 

 

It’s peaceful. 

 

… 

Shame, really. Things like that never last.  

 

---

 

There’s progress with the Aliens. They are still wary, still hiding in that same corner.  

 

At least, they are not terrified of him anymore, that’s enough.  

 

Fairy is getting worse by the moment – their breaths are raspy, a wheeze more than a breath – the once white glow of their skin is dull. Purple blood making a stark contrast with their pale complexion.

 

Bambi looks worried sick, hardly sleeping, hardly eating.  

 

The days that come are slightly different. Black pointy legs, stains in the front of their cell. Every indicator points at the goop spiders.

 

Who now stand in front of them, clipboards in hand as they scribble notes.  They walk every day, doing rotations during the nights.  

 

“Get a life! Don’t you have anything else to?” He speaks annoyance slipping from his tongue like water. Really, those aliens are lucky that he can’t shout. After all, he doesn’t want to scare his cellmate. “Don’t you get bored of this or something?”  

 

It’s pointless, of course. He knows that now. Once, he yelled until his throat gave out, clawed at the walls, begged, pleaded. The guards only watched, recording his pain with a glimmer of curiosity that made his skin crawl.

 

So, he stopped giving them the satisfaction. The stakes have been calm lately anyway. (There hasn’t been any outside experiments)  

 

They lurk just outside the cell– stiff backs, things that look like tablets clutched in their fuzzy arms. It’s weirdo behavior.  

 

That’d be enough to file a restraining order in earth. Maybe he should get one. Is that a thing out here? How would that even work in space? “You can’t come within three miles of my ship or I’ll call the space police,” he imagines telling them.

 

He doesn’t even have a ship! The thought is so ridiculous he almost laughs. 

 

Apart from their stalker behavior, there’s nothing new. They observe, they write. Making their rotations like brain-dead zombies.

 

One night, that changes.  

 

That night, he couldn’t fall asleep.  

 

Only Mothman is awake with him, wings wrapped around the rest, hiding them from view in a makeshift cocoon. The pearly white appendages blend perfectly with the colorless walls – They disappear completely from view, if not for the pained breaths that come from the smallest of the group.  

 

There’s some kind of restlessness under his bones– a gut feeling that screams to you with intensity, mental alarms baring in awful synchrony. Everything looks normal, yet the feeling persists. It claws through his throat, goosebumps through every inch of his skin.  

 

His mind is in a hazy, dazed with sleep. The waves of paranoia passing through his mind. When he hears it... 

 

A rhythmic vibration, the chirring of heavy machinery nearing their cell. He shouldn’t be able to hear it, but he does. It’s familiar, he remembers it perfectly. It’s the sound the small carrier makes, the one that looks like a bigger version of the pet carrier he had back home. Big enough to fit him, too small to be comfortable.  

 

A small raspy cough snaps through his thoughts.  

 

He looks back, to where his companions hide. They won’t survive an experiment, one of them is too sick to even move. They’ll die.

 

His eyes meet Mothman’s shaking frame. He can’t let them die, can’t carry the cloud of guilt that would for sure haunt him. The loneliness would eat him alive. He has nothing out here. He was nothing back on earth, he is nothing now.

 

Desperately, he looks to the cocoon. Only Mothman’s head is visible under the wing cocoon, the others are completely camouflaged. He knows how mouthman reacts to fear.

 

They hide their face with the rest of their body under their wings. He’ll use his scary status to his advantage today.  

 

He makes a deep animalistic growl in the back of his throat, the sound pathetic to him. It works. He looks at the terrified insect eyes that look through an opening of the cocoon. It makes him feel bad. 

 

He tries his best not to scare them too much, hoping to avoid triggering the sound they make with their wings. 

 

As the sounds grow clearer – he walks as far from the cocoon as he can, eyes scanning the door. He has to distract the guards enough to hide the other three. This time, he can’t use money to get out of this.

 

There’s no other way than fighting the guards. Maybe this is payback, for being a coward, for all the times he made others fight his battles.  

 

Hopefully, they aren’t good fighters. The odds for once aren’t in his favour.  

 

As the cell is thrown open – a loud thud resonating through the morbid silence, fracturing it in a thousand pieces. Chance doesn’t move from his spot, shouting as loud as his raspy throat can.

 

If he can avoid this fight, he will.  

 

It doesn’t work.  

 

One of the guards gets too close to the cocoon to his comfort, they don’t seem to notice it yet. Before they can, he launches himself to them. Sending them tumbling to the side, as far from the terrified moth as he can.

 

Adrenaline rushes through his veins as they grab, weapons out and pointing at him.  

 

Chance bites one of their legs, a sickening crunch fills the cell followed by a scream. Suddenly, he understands his cellmates fear. Looking back at the weeping spider, he can’t really bring himself to care. Maybe he is the monster the others were so afraid of. 

 

The fight becomes a blur of black and blue. It coats the floor in a massacre, at least three of the guards lay uselessly on puddles of indigo. It’s such a pretty color to be blood, he notes in his hysteria.  

 

A mistake is all it takes, his body falling in a heap of limbs. The faint hum of electricity stays in the air – the smell of sulfur entering through his nose, through the pain and the haze of his body.

 

The unwelcomed spasms of electricity travel through his shaking body. He lost.  

 

The feeling of someone adjusting his limbs in a cramped position, the smaller bars of the carrier rough against his weak body.

 

Forcing himself to focus, he barely makes out the empty sacks next to him.  

 

He succeeded. They were safe.  

 

A faint smile curved his lips, looking at the small eyes peering through the cocoon, horror present as they trembled like a leaf in the wind. The world grew heavy, a mix of pain and exhaustion softening the world around him, his limbs cramped and numb. 

 

Yet he could not bring himself to regret it. 

 

For once in his life, he had done something right.

Notes:

Cervitaurion: Small deer-like creatures, that resemble centaurons only with more animalistic features on the torso and face. They have a natural conection with plants and other wildlife. Also they share a planet with Imphleens. They are known for being gentle, and incredibly fast.

Mothicelings, White colored moth like humanoid creature. They have pearly white wings with beautiful patterns that help them camouflage in the icy desert that is their planets. In cases of stress, their wings will flap against each other creating a frantic ringing and in the worst cases cristalize in what looks like ice. This last feature makes it hard to harm them but will also make them incredibly slow.

(Yes, I'm trying to fit their in-game abilities in their species. It's a pain)

-
Hello,

Why is it the days I dedicate to write the most random things happen? I was writting yesterday and Charlie kirk died, then while I finished this chapter I learned that someone doxxed 007n7's account completely. Really, what's up with that? Poor man, his whole family is now exposed in the internet.
Hopefully that gets solved soon with as little as damage as possible. I've been trying to find the whole story, but have yet to find it.

If you have it please pass it to me, if you have any fanart also please pass me the links I'd love to see it.

Sorry for the long note! That's all that I wanted to talk about.
Have a good day/night!

Chapter 4: Everyone needs a break, sadly, they aren't getting one

Summary:

Chance returns to the cell!

TW: Vomit, Injury, Illness... I think that's all.

At first, Elliot couldn’t believe that this creature was a fearsome human.

 

It’s said that humans are extremely aggressive and territorial– capable of only living in packs until they reach adulthood. Once they grow, they’ll leave in search of their own space, maiming everything that’s on their way.

 

This human, oddly enough, reminds Elliot of Araparruts. It chatters nonsensically. The sound of deep grumbles that are sometimes accompanied of soft trills. They resemble melodies, still they have a phonetic sound.

 

Logically, Elliot knew humans are far too primitive to have language—yet he couldn’t help wondering if they might be on the brink of creating one.

 

Then it started mimicking them, odd sounds that came out unnatural, they obviously required too much effort – even then the human didn’t waver, repeating them until it came out perfect.

 

So, either the creature is more intelligent than they give it credit or it’s some kind of mechanism to lure prey.

 

Elliot doubted it’s the second one.

 

He’s not sure when the presence of the human started bringing comfort instead of fear. It somehow became a constant protection to their side – it’s chattering filling the stifling silence.

 

Then it was gone and Elliot discovered just how attached he was to that odd creature.

 

Humans are supposed to be uncaring monsters— ruthless as they destroy everything in their path. Solitary, aggressive, apex predators of their entire planet, ready to exterminate any other form of life.

 

Yet as he clutches his arms to his chest, staring almost hypnotized at the puddles of deep blue blood left behind, the blood it spilled. He can’t bring himself to be afraid anymore.

 

It had killed at least three guards, bit their legs smooth off –his brain reminded him – it had done it to protect them, it had put its life on the line to protect them.

 

That gentle, social, kind creature– the one who wrapped their friend in a blanket so tenderly, who shared it’s food even when it meant going hungry, who had once fallen asleep to the jingle of Noob’s wings instead of growing angry at the noise– had been taken by the spiders for cruel experiments.

 

Elliot knows they can’t move, not until the human is back and the void spiders are gone. The cocoon of wings is the thing that kept them hidden and he’s not going to ruin all of the human's hard work.

 

So, they stay there, unmoving, as time seems to pass as slowly as possible.

 

He doesn’t know how much time they spend like that– Two Time’s sickly form cradled one of his arms as he pets slowly the wings of a very distressed Noob.

 

Then the door is thrown open, as the spiders throw the human with absolute disregard for its wellbeing. The creature lands with a loud thud that shatters the silence completely, a low whimper escaping its lips.

 

Then they laugh, like the whole situation is funny to them.

 

Anger flows his body as the door closes, the steps disappearing finally. 

 

Forcing himself to calm down, anger will help no one in this situation, and focus on the creature.

 

“Noob, let me go buddy” Elliot tugs carefully at the half-crystalized cocoon– if he wants to help the human, he needs to be fast.

 

The moth only cries harder, antennae shaking with stress, their eyes fixated on the limp body that laid in the ground. “We can help it-” The pronoun tastes wrong, like ashes in his mouth – too detached “...them”

 

That seems to spur them into action, Noob nodding as they retract their wings back against their back. The moment he’s free, he dashes to the human’s side.

 

If someone had told his past self that he would be running toward a human, he would have called them crazy.

 

The poor creature looks horrible, purple bruises covering a side of his face, irritated burns peeked underneath the white cloth– red sprinkles of what Elliot assumes to be blood against their white skin.

 

Their eyes are hazy, unseeing, while small cries fall from their lips.

 

The creature pushed him gently to the side. Abruptly, it- they sat up, tilting their head as far from their body as they could. For a moment he stays puzzled by their side, before he can question it any further.

 

Brownish-yellow liquid spills from the human’s mouth, streaked with crimson blood from their chapped lips. It smells acidic. Oh god, was their vomit supposed to be this acidic? Elliot doesn’t know!

 

For a moment, Elliot hesitates, not knowing how to proceed. Many wild animals were aggressive when they got hurt, lashing out in fear. He looks down to the miserable creature – there's water falling from their eyes, small cries fall from their bloodied teeth.

 

No, what is he thinking?

 

The human had every opportunity to hurt him before, they could have thrown him harshly – instead they only pushed him slightly to the side. They had protected him.

 

Elliot takes a deep breath, cradling the creature carefully – the last thing he wants is to hurt them more than they already are.

 

It takes some maneuvering to carry the human as far from the door as possible, laying them in the small mattress. The human just curls on themselves – small spasms travel their arms while they look at him through dazed droopy eyes.

 

Elliot touches their forehead softly, the skin underneath their fur is burning.

 

Noob hovers from the distance, holding a very disoriented Two time in their arms. Elliot just hums while coercing some water into the human’s body, hopefully that’ll help.

 

He doesn’t have the equipment or resources in here to try and find what’s exactly wrong with the delirious human.

 

“Noob, it’s fine. You can come closer” he says, dodging a stray claw that reaches for his antlers. The human in their delirium isn’t aggressive, just curious – judging from the questioning coo that slips from their lips.

 

Apparently, his antlers are the main victim of that. “How is Two time?”

 

“S-still hibernating” The moth murmurs, uncertainty coating their words as they take small steps toward the human – forcing themselves to reduce the erratic jingling of their bells.

 

The creature seems to like it, small hums filling the air.

 

“That’s no good.” Elliot looks with concern at the bundle in the moth’s arms. Two time barely makes a sound apart of their raspy breathing, barely even move.

 

It’s unsettling for someone like them, always so lively – filling the silence with unsettling prayers.

 

Sometimes Elliot finds himself wishing to hear their crazed rants. It was better than this.

 

A small whine forces him out of his thoughts, as trembles start racking the human’s body. The poor creature is handling this situation better than Elliot expected – barely making a fuss of what surely is agonizing pain.

 

All of the symptom's indicate flamedrug influence, a substance that he’s never really worked with.

 

Elliot’s heard the rumors flying about it in the black market. It’s a drug known for overloading a person’s nerves with energy, making it feel like they’ve been set on fire.

 

He has no idea why the void spiders are experimenting with it, but one thing is certain – Elliot doesn’t have any resources to treat something like that, so, they’ll have to wait it out.

 

Noob kneels next to the two of them, the nymphling resting peacefully on their arms. Two Time lets out a particularly nasty cough before settling down – this seems to grab the humans attention, who immediately tries to sit up.

 

Elliot stops them before they can, ignoring the sounds of protest that come from the creature.

 

They seem almost sentient right now… yeah he’ll focus on that later.

 

“No no, they’re fine. Nothing to worry about silly creature” Elliot tries calming the human down, it’s not really working – judging from the creatures whines and trembles.

 

Really, they’re going to hurt themselves. So, Elliot gets a stupid idea.

 

“Let me carry Two time, Noob.” He positions his arms gently “You must be tired from staying up all night yesterday”

 

It takes a bit of convincing for Noob to accept. They curl up to the side of Elliot’s back – and in seconds, they are completely asleep. Slowly stroking their wings, trying to make that frown disappear while he thinks.

 

“Okay, calm down” Elliot says turning his attention to the human – they roll their eyes at him, still trying to get up.

 

Really, the amount of attitude this creature has! He pushes the human back down, careful of their trembling limbs. He’s honestly impressed, this guy should not be able to move so much!

 

Before the human can start protesting, Elliot lowers Two time’s sickly frame into the side of the creature’s torso.

 

He holds his breath – hopefully the human doesn’t take offense on the nymphling grabbing at their energy to feed. In the worst case escenario, he’ll just lift Two time back in his arms.

 

The human just coos softly, holding the nymphling tighter to them. The creature is still shaking from pain, delirium clouding their brain – but now they look a bit content.

 

It makes sense, if humans are social animals they probably crave affection. Elliot sighs from relief before folding their hooves so they can sit near the human.

 

A small fond smile quirks at his lips, taking the scene. There’s still puddles of blueish blood staining the floor, yet, surrounded by the two sleeping aliens and a human.

 

He finds himself for once content with the chaos. For once, he finds himself unbothered by the lack of sleep and the chaos.

 

Elliot really hopes the Void spiders don’t return in a long time.

 

Notes:

Ello, I'm sleep deprived asf.

Sorry for the short chapter, I just wanted to make a little interlude!

I don't really reply to many comments but I do read them all! If you make any fanart ir something please let me know

That's it, have a good night.

Chapter 5: Don't panic (A/N)

Hello everyone!

I'm not sure If I'm going to be able to update weekly right now, my country is going through some though political times. There's a lot of protests going on around here.

The truck drivers are closing up streets and stuff like that (The food price is going up, kitchen gas is difficult to find, everything is a mess). The power is also going down for some hours.

While the protests haven't turned aggressive yet, I'm not sure if the weekly updates will continue. 

If I can, I'll try and update twice or once a month!

Take care! 

Notes:

Edit: I'm fine and safe for now, just very overwhelmed about having to ration things like gas or food again. Hopefully this situation gets resolved quickly!

Notes:

Hello, I hope you all like this story.

I love space AU's and since this fandom have none. I chose to do it myself. This will be a lot more lighthearted than my other fics.
Should I work in the other story I have? Probably, I don't want to do it for now. Especially now that 007n7's lore changed again. I'll fix any mistake in the morning since it's 11 pm here and I'm tired asf.

Anyways, let me know what you think of this.

Bye take care.