A Smarty to Rule Them All - Chapter 9 - "Bad Memories" [By Pyrofireflame12]

Welcome back to ASTRTA, after the last interlude about Princess and her owner, we cut back to Odin who finds out that a side effect of human intelligence is that mental breakdowns are possible. Let’s hope this doesn’t end in any paralyzed fluffies.

Side note - Credit to @miaorr for the jellenheimers official name.
. . .
You’re Acorn, and you have the biggest heart happies ever. Your babbeh, the only one who survived the Smarty’s wrath, finally opened it’s see places!

“M-mummah?”

“Hewwo wittwe babbeh! Am yu mummah!”

“Wub mummah!”

You nearly cry from happiness, you turn to see how Seashell reacts, after all, she saved your foal from starving when you first met. But she looks puzzled.

“Fwuffy nummer…”

“Wha’? Dewe am fwuffy nummeh hewe?”

“Wen Seasheww was wif owd hewd, fwuffy nummeh num babbehs. Haf pwetty see pwaces wike babbeh. Babbeh mite num babbehs wen owdew.”

Mabel cuts in. “Hold on, you mean a fluffy with the same eyes as this little foal ate foals?”

“Yesh… haf bigges scawies. Bu’ fwuffy tak’ fowebah sweepies aftew hewd see fwuffy twyin to num… bwuddah…” She has a look of horror and realization, and turns to your smarty.

He’s shaking in fear, and slowly backing away. Mabel tries to grab him. “Shit, Odin, calm down, you’re fine…”

He starts to shake his head, murmuring “No… no… get away…” while backing away, as your babbeh looks at him, with those pretty red eyes.

“Nyu fwen?”

“Odin, calm down. Aurum, help me out.” Mabel grabs Aurum and Odin, and walks into another room, giving you a look of confusion. You didn’t know what was wrong with your baby! He looked good, you didn’t think he was bad, sure, he had those pretty eyes that made your thinkie place have hurties if you stared too long, but he couldn’t be that bad! If he was a fluffy nummer, then you wanted him to num bad fluffies, like how your smarty fought bad fluffies.

You sigh. You really hope your smarty wouldn’t hurt your last baby… just like the other one did to all your others.
. . .
You’re Mabel, and you just discovered that an intelligent fluffy can have a panic attack. After seeing Acorns foal, he had some terrified flashbacks of some asshole that tried to eat him alive when he was a foal. Fluffies are cruel. You walk into the back of the daycare, passing by Daryl who gives you a questioning look.

“He’s having some kind of panic attack, now Ireallyneedtogo!”

“I won’t ask. By the way, Princess is probably going to eat shit and die!”

You don’t question that. Princess has been a pain in the ass ever since her owner dropped her off. But you place down Odin on a table and strap him in to a device, usually used to pillow fluffies, but you want to keep him from hurting himself. You place Aurum on a shelf, and stare at her.

“Listen, you got what Seashell said, right?”

“Yesh. Fwuffy twy num Odin wen Odin wus babbeh. Wiww hewp…”

Her voice trails off, and you hear a slithering noise. “Munstah…” You swing back, and Odin is gone. Aw shit.
. . .
“Ugh… Where am I…” You’re Odin, and until now, a million things have been running through your mind at once. When you saw that foal, that cute, innocent harmless foal, open it’s little red eyes, that spiral pattern sent you into a panic, almost like it had a hypnotic gaze. All you could think of was that cannibalistic foal eating bastard that gave you a scar that never faded, but it was hidden by fluff.

But then you realized you were being the same as all those fluffies you had beaten to a pulp. You judged him as evil just for being born differently, all you could think of was how he would become a monster. The tears begin to flow freely, as you realize you were no better. It was only so long you could keep telling yourself that all the pain and suffering you caused to others was for a good reason. You lie down, and give up on trying to find a way out of here.

“Get up.”

You look to your left, and there he is. That beast that’s been stalking you since you left the old herd. You don’t even know what he is, or if he has a name.

“Go away… whoever or whatever you are.”

“I suppose I haven’t ever told you what I am. The term that the humans use is ‘Jellenheimer’. We are known for possessing odd traits, mostly used for slaughtering fluffies. I however, am not as barbaric. As for a name, I can come up with one. Do you know who your namesake is?”

“…no. Now leave me alone…”

“I can stay here for days. So you have no choice but to listen. Your namesake is a figure in norse mythology. A god of wisdom among many other things. I suppose your human mother named you that, due to the fact that you both share the trait of losing an eye.”

“And this helps how?”

“I’m calming you with stories, you’re still a damn child.”

“Like hell I am.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Either way, you may call me Mimir. He is a figure that granted Odin wisdom in norse mythology, and I will take it as my name.”

“…like you gave me any wisdom.”

“Selective memory problem. Someone needs to establish a therapist for your kind.”

“Shut up and let me sleep.”

“If you don’t work with me here, I’ll hurl you through a window back to your family.”

“Fine.” You haul yourself up, and sit on your haunches. “Well?”

“Simply tell me how you are feeling about the foal.”

You don’t have anything to lose if you tell “Mimir”. “Well… when I was a younger foal, a fluffy with those same eyes came into my herd. Turns out the bastard was eating foals. His grand finale was him trying to eat me before the herd beat him to death.”

“Well then, that was a Cannibal fluffy. A subspecies of the catastrophe that is your species. Except those ones are even worse. They’ve got stronger muscles, sharper teeth, and a taste for blood. If you had that trait on top of everything else, you would probably only be able to be defeated by a human.”

“So I was right. It’s cannibalistic.”

“Not now. If it never gets a taste for blood, then it can remain normal. I have doubts that you can do that until it dies, but the best you could do is do this until it becomes an adult.”

“So it’s up to me and the herd to make sure he doesn’t grow up a killing machine?”

“Yes, but if the foal does go full cannibal, he could become a very powerful ally. You may think you’re safe from the dangers of feral life, but it’s amazing how common fluffies breaking in and killing, raping fluffies and other horrible things are.”

“So I should let him go full cannibal, but make him control it?”

“It’s bound to happen. Now, since we are done, I’m tossing you out.”

“Is this your home? I think we’re just in a cave.”

“No, it’s actually my secret base where I plant microchips into your spinal cord to track you- of course it’s a fucking cave. Now get out and go back to the people that need you.”
. . .
“ODIN! WHERE ARE YOU!” Mabel is outside the daycare, yelling into the forest. The rest of the herd is frantically sniffing around, trying to catch your scent. Acorn, however, is crying. You focus your hearing, and she’s muttering about how she’s a bad mother. This won’t slide.

You stumble out of the bushes, and Seashell notices you first. “BWUDDAH AM BAK! BWUDDAH AM BAK!”

And she instantly slams into you, hugging you like her life depends on it. You let a smile spread across your face. Then you see Mabel’s stern stare.

“Odin. Where the hell did you go.” You pry yourself out of Seashells grip with a quiet ‘nuuuuuuu’.

“Not now…” You walk over to where Acorn is. She’s guarding her foal.

“Pwease smawty… nu gif babbeh fowebah sweepies… pwease nu be wike owd smawty…”

“Show me the foal.”

Still sobbing, she lets you see. Brown, just like it’s mother. Red eyes, just like it’s mother. And a blood red mane coming in. But as you stared into those spiral eyes, you blocked out the memories. The pain in your leg that never went away, the terror that every new fluffy would wake you up by crushing down on your flesh. But this was just a foal. Innocent, and could be shaped to whatever you wanted.

“Hey there little foal. I’m your smarty.” The foal looks up at you, and a smile spreads across its face as it waddles up. Then it promptly collapses on your leg. “Wub smawty… coo…”

Acorn’s sobbing stops. She looks at you, hope in her eyes. But you’re angry. Angry at yourself, at her for the dumb thoughts of what you would do, angry at her old smarty, and ultimately angry at everything.

“I am not going to hurt him. He’s just a foal, and doesn’t deserve it. If he stays here, I have one rule.”

Acorn looks relieved, but a bit tense. “Wh-wha smawty wan’…?”

You cover the foals ears with your hooves, as the foal giggles a bit. You give Acorn a very serious stare. “Your foal was born with a natural lust for blood. But he will only gain it if he tastes blood. I don’t want to see him in any fights before he’s fully grown. Got it?”

“Yesh Smawty! Tank yu tank yu tank yu!” She’s overjoyed to hear that you aren’t going to kill her foal. Fucked up. But Peanut waddles up, an embarrassed look on his face. Mabel looks on with a shit eating grin. Oh boy, you know what it means. You leg the foal go and walk back, and sit near the rest of the herd.

“Wha’ Peanut doin?” Seashell whispers.

“Peanut teww Auwum dat Peanut wan’ be speciaw fwens wif Acown. Peanut gun’ ask.” Aurum whispers back. The four of you giggle to yourselves, ever since Peanut saw Acorn again, you knew that from the look in his eyes.

“U-um hewwo Acown…”

“Hewwo Peanut! Am otay?”

“Y-yesh… Peanut wan’ ask…”

The next part comes out as a fast, mumbled sentence. Mabel walks over, and pets Peanut. “Go on, ask.” Peanut steels his nerves, and stares Acorn in the eyes.

“Peanut wan be Acown’s speciaw fwen…”

Acorn looks stunned. Before she can reply, Peanut goes into a panicked tirade. “Peanut pwomise wiww be gud speciaw fwen! Wiww gif nummies an-an’ pwotect babbeh an Acown an-” Mabel covers his mouth. She turns to Acorn.

“Well Acorn… what do you say?”

Acorn seems to consider the offer. But only for a second. “Yesh! Wan be speciaw fwens!” And tackles Peanut in a bear hug. You all burst out laughing, and for the first time in a while, you’ve felt without fear, without the thought in the back of your mind, that something was watching. You look back, and see something red sneaking away in the grass. Something was watching. Always was. But it was friendly. You mutter a silent thanks to Mimir, wherever he is.
. . .
The herd went home, and the foal was named Pretzel. You feel happy and fine, yet the effects of not getting enough rest after the short coma snapped you back to reality. Dark circles appeared under your eyes, despite not feeling tired. You remembered Mimir’s warning.
. . .
“Heed my warning. Never turn your back without looking twice. Never fall asleep without keeping vigil first. Because you are never safe. Stronger forces are in play.”
. . .
But you had friends, a family. And you weren’t going to let anything happen to them. Not over your dead body.

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8 Likes

Now I just have the mental imagine of Odin riding atop Pretzel into battle. For Valhalla!

3 Likes

Just imagine the herd in mini viking helmets beating the shit out of a smarty and his gang

2 Likes

Interesting he named himself Mimir and Im beginning to hear him having voice of Mimir in God of War :sweat_smile:

Hope Pretzel will grow up in control of his urge.

3 Likes

Imagine Odin’s future foal just calling him Jellen and refusing to call him by his real name.

2 Likes

Naming his foal Loki would make the circle complete :sweat_smile:

2 Likes

As long as Mimir doesn’t decide to show up as a severed head I think Odin won’t have much to freak out about regarding the guy. He does make an excellent advisor after all. :wink:

Oh wow, thankies for taking my suggestion. I feel as giddy as a fluffy on a sugar high. :smiley_cat:

2 Likes

More will be revealed about Mimir next chapter. It’s going to be a long one.

1 Like