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love-and-monsters · 8 months

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The Ship and the Alien

5,486 words, GN reader X M alien.

Humanity sends the last of their species in hibernation pods to the stars. When you wake up an unknown amount of time later, you are on a different ship. Surrounded by aliens.

Content warnings: mentions of death and discussions of medical procedures and illness.

The Ship never had a name. People tried to give it one quite a lot. There was a naming contest first, which was a bad idea. You’d think the bigwigs would learn not to give this kind of power to the internet, but it never seems to occur to them until the two top names are ‘SaveyMcSaviorface’ and ‘The Biggest Dick Ever’ and they have to scrap the whole thing. ‘Eden’ was an idea they tossed around, but there were people who said it wasn’t inclusive of other religions and a bunch of Christians who didn’t believe in the concept at all who were pissed about the connotations of the name, so that didn’t work. ‘Destiny’ was another idea, as were ‘Eternal’ and ‘Onward.’ In the end, by the time anyone had even started to come to a conclusion on the name, everyone had started getting used to calling it ‘The Ship’ and no one was willing to change that for whatever sappy shit they engraved on the side.

Maybe they did eventually name it. I don’t know. I don’t know if it mattered, really. Anybody aboard The Ship wasn’t going to be calling it anything on account of being in stasis, and anybody outside The Ship wasn’t going to be calling it anything on account of being dead very soon. So. The Ship was a fine name to me.

The Ship was not actually one ship, at the time- it was technically seven ships, six stationed on different continents and one stationed at the north pole. They were designed to all lock together in one massive structure, but to be able to function independently, in case of a system failure. There were redundancies, ways to transfer assets between different ships if necessary, and about a billion other things that I never understood, but were probably very important for a metal tube hurtling through space. In all honesty, I didn’t pay much attention to its construction. Crushing despair combined with a vicious fight for survival every day takes precedence, you know.

You don’t know how you ended up on The Ship. You know the basics- engineers, designers, and construction workers all got immediate entry. That took up a few thousand slots. Then were the ‘important people,’ the sorts you would want if you were setting up a colony. Doctors, agriculturalists, building designers, all the big thinkers who can make sure that things run smoothly and work like they’re supposed to. Quite a few military members as well. After that, there was some debate as to who else could come on. Limited number of slots, after all. You heard a lot of very right people tried to pay their way on the ship, but it didn’t work so well. Money’s useless to anyone on the ship, and will be useless to anyone left on Earth. Some people traded favors and influence to secure their spots, but a decent chunk of people couldn’t do that and had to subject themselves to the same system as everyone else.

The way they picked candidates for the civilian slots on the ship was the same way anyone picks anything they want to be at least somewhat random: they made a computer do it. All civilians who put their names in a hat, basically, and the computer system drew them. No one could accuse it of cheating, because it was a computer. Well, people could, and they did, but the idea was that at least less people would accuse it of being impartial than if a human picked.

You were one of the picks. Placed into section 3, chamber 2, pod 3247. You didn’t tell anyone- you’d been asked not to, out of fear of retaliation from those who hadn’t been picked. You just left the shelter you’d been living in and headed to the launch site.

There was a brief physical, involving being stripped, shoved onto and into a ton of machinery, drinking some kind of gross shit that purged your body of what felt like everything you’d ever eaten, getting your head shaved, and an IV port implanted into your arm. You saw other people on occasion, going through the same thing before they were whisked away again. There were no opportunities to talk. Everything was brutally efficient.

You were allowed to sleep for a few hours on a hospital-style cot. You ended up just lying there and staring up at the ceiling. There were other people there, also trying to sleep and failing, but nobody talked. Everyone just waited.

In the morning, you were all herded into the body of the ship. It was massive, bigger than any building you’d ever been in, and still quite cramped when you walked into it. The room was cylindrical, with pods lining the whole thing. The walls rotated, allowing the pods to be lowered to the ground, people to be strapped in and put to sleep, then rotated up to the ceiling, ferris-wheel-style.

You were toward the back, so you got a good view of the people in front of you being placed into the pods, injected with the combination of fluids that would knock them out, hooked into the machinery, and then sent into ‘hibernation mode.’ On your turn, you were pushed into the pod, the fluid-filled bags that supported your body adjusting automatically. The fluid was administered through your IV port and the chill of it made your eyelids droop almost immediately. Your eyelids drooped. The world grew colder and colder as the pod lid closed round you and you were left in the pitch blackness of the pod. You couldn’t tell the difference between your eyes being closed and open, but you must have closed them at some point, because you did drift into the dreamless hibernation of spaceflight.

It wasn’t quite like falling asleep. It was more like closing your eyes for a couple seconds and suddenly everything felt like garbage. Your muscles cramped, your mouth was dry as a bone, your arm throbbed where the IV port had been attached, and your eyes couldn’t open. You coughed furiously as soon as you took your first breath.

The air that touched your skin was horribly cold, but your body couldn’t shiver. Despite having basically nothing in your stomach, your body kept trying to retch. Your limbs were locked up, barely able to move from the slightly-uncomfortable position you’d been forced into in the pod.

Something touched your arm and you screamed. Or tried to- your lungs forced the air out with a sound more like a grating huff. The touch was warm, blazing against your bare skin, and even the texture of it was unbearable. Being without sensation for so long seemed to have magnified your senses a thousandfold.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed before moving became tolerable. You tried to open your eyes a few times, but even once you could physically do so, the room was too bright to look at. You flopped helplessly on your back, squeaking and complaining whenever you were touched.

As your brain grew used to processing sensory input once more, you got better at figuring out what was happening to you. You were lying in some sort of thick liquid, with your head supported so your face was free of it. The thing that kept touching you was alive, presumably, because it was moving. It felt like you were being gently massaged. Kind of the massage used to help encourage blood flow in a limb.

You tried your eyes again. They cracked open, just barely. The light wasn’t so bad this time. Not good, but not bad, either. It stung. You could see someone, probably a person, moving around you, although you could barely even make out the silhouette. It was mostly a blur.

The massage was nice. It was sort of a more pleasant awakening than you thought you’d have. They’d briefed you on the awakening procedures- the pods would gradually warm up so you woke up slowly before ejecting everyone all at once. No one should be awake to care for you. Maybe something had gone wrong? But not so wrong that you’d died, so it couldn’t be something you needed to worry about too much.

You took your time to come back to yourself, slowly warming up to your body again. It still felt like you’d spent a week and a half completely sick with the flu, but you were otherwise not so bad.

The room was slowly drifting into focus around you. It was actually quite dim, you realized. There were a couple of pale blue lights set into the ceiling far above you providing illumination for the whole room, so everything was dark and shadowy. There was still the silhouette moving around you, but they were sort of dark and it was hard to make anything out about them.

The silhouette moved closer, still backlit too much to make out features. There was something slightly off about the shape of it, with the head and the shoulders or something, but maybe that was some weird eye effect of the hibernation. Hallucinations sometimes happened after hibernation, they’d said. Nothing to worry about.

And then the silhouette spoke. At least, you thought it was speaking. It wasn’t using words, though. It made a low, sort of thrumming noise with the occasional pop or creak. They weren’t quite noises a human could make, or at least, not without great effort.

You froze. That was… weird. More hallucinations, maybe? Had the hibernation fucked with your brain so bad you’d forgotten how words worked? That wasn’t good- maybe that’s why you were getting woken up separately?

Before you had a moment to ponder that any longer, there was a mechanical click and a voice, sort of neutral and male, said… something. You still couldn’t understand what it was saying, but there was some confirmation that it was, actually, saying something because you recognized the language: Chinese.

There was a pause. The mechanical click repeated, and then the voice spoke again, in English. “Are you conscious and able to respond? Please raise an arm if you can understand what I’m saying to you.”

You raised your arm automatically, though it was a struggle to lift it out of the thick substance you were submerged in. The thrumming and popping noise started up again, followed quickly by a mechanical click and a voice in English. It reminded you of when they dubbed over someone on the news while they were still talking. “Please remain calm. You suffered some injuries to your extremities, as well as hibernation sickness. We’re attempting to stabilize you, but you’re in a delicate condition.”

You tried to talk, but your mouth was so dry your tongue was trying to glue itself to the roof of your mouth. If the person was bothered by that, they didn’t show it. They moved closer to your head, walking alongside the tub you were resting in. Your eyes tracked them. They were moving weirdly. Were they hurt, maybe? Alarm bells kept going off in your head, the uncanny sense that something was wrong, but nothing in your conscious brain could put together what it was.

The person moved so they were in one of the brighter section of the room. You could see more than just their vague shape. Your heart stopped.

They were not a person.

That was why their shape was wrong. You could see their torso, from their head to nearly their waist, and it was human only in the vaguest of shapes. Sort of a vaguely oval head, with a sort of human-like face, except it was flatter, with pointed, almost horse-like ears. Their eyes were a little deeper-set and rounder. Their coloration reminded you of a Doberman, almost, with black across the top of their face and a paler color underneath. Their torso was longer and more slender than a human’s with narrower, more sloped shoulders and long arms that folded up close to their chest. They made a sort of humming or purring noise as they leaned over you.

You struggled to sit up or scramble away, but you couldn’t move much. You couldn’t even scream, just sort of moan helplessly. One of your legs managed to kick out sideways and connect with the side of the tank. It wasn’t much of a hit, but that, combined with you straining the rest of your pathetic muscles to get away from the thing next to you, meant that you partially slid off whatever was keeping your head supported and your face went under the water.

It was thicker than water, but not by too much, so your head slid under it with disconcerting slowness. It was then that you discovered another disadvantage of your weak muscles- the substance was just thick enough to make moving through it, even just enough to lift your head out of the water, impossible.

You thrashed, but not really, since you couldn’t move. There was only about two seconds of panic, though, before hands locked around you and pulled your head out back out. You sputtered as the hands placed your head back on the little platform.

“Stay still.” Something was beeping frantically in the background, and you could both hear and see the creature shifting around to check on some machines. “The fluid is warming you back to proper temperature. You need to remain still and calm to avoid going into shock.”

There was no way you were not going into shock. But you’d used up all your energy in your near-drowning, so you couldn’t do much but lie there. The creature seemed to relax.

“I understand that you’re frightened. I promise, I’m trying to help you.” When you didn’t move, just watched them, they relaxed further. “Remain still. I will conclude the treatment.”

They fussed around for a little while longer, checking on whatever monitors were giving readouts for your condition. You weren’t sure what indicated that your treatment was over, since you didn’t feel much better, but eventually, they pressed a button somewhere and the fluid drained out of the tub. It was cold after the fluid was gone, and you were completely nude and shivering, resting on some pads at the bottom of the tub. The creature, thankfully, offered you warm cloths that you could bury yourself underneath.

Before you could even properly enjoy the warmth, there was the sound of footsteps approaching. A lot of footsteps. Summoning all your strength, you heaved yourself up and looked over the edge of the tub.

There were more of them. Only three, not including your creature, which didn’t seem to match up with the amount of footsteps you’d heard. And then you looked down a little more and realized why.

They were centaurs.

Sort of- their limbs weren’t hooved, and they weren’t really like paws, either. A bit more like bird talons, if birds rested mostly on their fingertips. Talontips. Whatever. They walked with their torsos bent further forward than centaurs, too, and they had long tails. A couple of them had horns, pointing back off their heads. They were wearing clothes that were relatively close-fitting, like most spacesuits you’d seen.

The one in front, with the largest horns and a sort of fancy marker around its neck, stepped froward. “On behalf of the First Branch of the Agrenier, we would like to officially greet your species. And offer our condolences.” This one also had their words picked up by the machine and recited in a language you could understand, though the voice the machine used was different, a little more feminine. Maybe this one was a woman?

The blankets hadn’t really calmed your shivering, but you managed to speak in a semi-steady voice. “Condolences?”

She scuffed one of her forelimbs, her ears lowering to the sides of her head. “Your ship was found drifting, nearly without power. There was some sort of error with major mechanical functions in the ship, which caused serious damage to the inner workings. Upon investigation of the craft, we discovered several hibernation pods, the vast majority of which were damaged.” She paused, still tapping a forelimb against the ground. “Two contained living members of your species, but you were the only one to survive the initial reawakening process. You have our deepest condolences.” You opened your mouth, but you couldn’t think of anything to say. Your brain struggled to process anything. Two pods with living people. Only one survived the reawakening. That was- that had to be you, right? You were- the only-

Dimly, you were aware of the robot speaking again. It seemed to be rapidly switching between two agitated voices. People were having an argument, maybe? You didn’t care. You buried yourself under the blankets and hid in the warm cocoon until everything was dark and floaty and your brain didn’t have any thoughts in it at all.

Someone tried to tug the blanket away. You weren’t sure how long it had been, but it was quieter and your limbs were stiff from being in the same position. You tried to keep the blanket over your body, but there was another firm tug and you lost your grip. Your muscles were pathetic. And, as embarrassing as it was, you couldn’t help but crying out when the blanket was taken away. It was the one thing you had in the world and you couldn’t even hold onto it.

“I’m sorry.” The other voice, the one from your centaur, came again from the robot. It did a very good job at adding emotion to the voices- it sounded anguished. “You’re overheating, I need to take it, but I’m sorry.” You curled up on the bottom of the tub, unmoving. The centaur patted your head. It was a small gesture, but you leaned into it. What else did you have?

The centaur patted your head a few more times before moving on. “I know you’re probably scared, but we’re not going to hurt you. I’m going to help you. Your hibernation pod was the least damaged of all of them, but it still had some minor malfunctions. It was hard to wake you up, and you’re not going to be all there for a little while.”

You racked your brains. It was easier to think about facts. When you’d gotten on the ship, there had been a big disclaimer about the dangers of hibernation pods. They were designed to keep a human in a state of suspended animation, with body functions slowed down to the bare minimum. The upper estimate was that it could keep a human asleep and alive for over half a million years. Not that anyone had ever tested them before you. But they were also risky- even minor malfunctions could lead to an early awakening, damage to the body, or the hibernation process just killing a person outright. Even when they’d gone over that part, though, no one had left. Why would they? Between a one hundred percent chance of death and a twenty percent chance, who would take the former?

So the malfunction had probably been in the sleep-wake system, the part that regulated how the machine knocked people out and woke them back up. It was supposed to run through a wakeup cycle on its own when the main computer signaled it was time, but if that system failed, it could be manually activated, and if the waking system failed entirely, there were ways to safely bring a person out of the hibernation without machine intervention. They were always riskier, though, and even if everything was done perfectly, it didn’t guarantee a successful revival.

That must have been what happened to the other person, the one in the other surviving pod. They’d tried to wake them up and…

Nope. Focus on facts. You took a deep breath. “What happened to the ship?”

“We boarded and searched it, and transferred the central computer system over to ours, as well as the supplies we could budget the space for,” the centaur said. “I’m afraid I don’t know any more specifics than that. I’m sorry.”

“How was it damaged? You said it was damaged.”

“An impact, I think?”

“That doesn’t make any sense. The ship was designed with rotator shields and plating and redundancies to keep everything secure. It was safe. It couldn’t be-” You paused. “How many people were on the ship?”

The centaur paused, then turned to one of the machines and tapped something in. “About 45,000 hibernation pods were recorded to be on the ship.”

That was too few for the main ship, but it had been designed with redundancies. If the impact had left a portion of the ship crippled, it was designed to eject the damaged portion and continue on without it.

Which meant your portion had been spit out and left to drift while the rest of the ship continued on toward its destination.

So everyone on the ship wasn’t dead. They were just continuing on to their destination. Without you.

That should make you feel better, right? That they weren’t dead? But you just felt very, very… lonely.

“I’m sorry about your fellow passengers,” the centaur said. He was leaning over the edge of the tub, sort of draped over it so he was resting his arm and his chin there. “For now, you should rest.” He glanced toward the door and his lips lifted into a bared-teeth expression. “Before our first officer comes back.”

He lifted your arm and slipped a tube into the shunt. It took only a few minutes before liquid sleep was coursing through your veins and you fell into a deep sleep.

The awakenings happened on a more or less regular schedule, at least from what you would tell. Often they would happen in that warm bath again, with your centaur rubbing your limbs to encourage bloodflow. Sometimes there was the other centaur there as well, the female one. You were pretty sure she and your centaur didn’t get along. The robot didn’t often translate for their conversations, but they had the tenor of arguments, and your centaur was always huffy and quiet after speaking with her. You ended up keeping time by the awakenings.

After two awakenings, your centaur gave you food. It was all prepackaged meal sludge, which was designed for people who had awoken from hibernation recently, and it made your stomach cramp, but you ate it. After four awakenings, the cramps stopped and you could move on to a combination of meal sludge and broth. Whenever you could, you engaged your centaur in conversation.

“How’d you know what medicines and foods to use?” you asked as he pulled the line administering some sort of medication out of your arm and closed the shunt.

“We transferred the existing data of your ship’s computer over to ours. I’m using your ship’s guide, translated into our own language, and improvising with our own equipment where yours was damaged- the hibernation pod you’ve been staying in is one of ours.”

“It seems too small to fit you,” you said. You weren’t a small person- you were actually pretty average- but the pod was only a bit too big for you to comfortably rest in. The centaurs were bigger than you by a pretty big margin, even your centaur, and he seemed to be the smallest one you’d seen so far.

“Oh, yes, that one’s for children.”

“You put children in hibernation?” You tried not to make the statement accusatory, but it came out like that anyway. There had been no children on The Ship, for multiple reasons. First was practicality- having a population that could breed and work right away upon making planetfall was paramount, and children wouldn’t be able to do either. The second was that no one knew how hibernation pods would affect children. Would it damage their bodies? Their ability to age properly? Hibernation had only been tested on adults- it was hard to convince people to put children in pods that might kill or cripple them, even when the same people had no issue with adults, especially prisoner populations.

Your centaur seemed unbothered. “For medical purposes. That’s what hibernation pods are used for. Slowing the spread of disease until the person can receive medical attention. It’s highly risky to use hibernation pods for long term space travel.” His ears flicked. “Though under your circumstances, I can’t say I can judge you.”

Ah. If they had the computer’s logs, they all knew what’s happening to Earth. What had probably already happened. The planet had a scant few years left by the time The Ship left, and if you’d traveled far enough to come across real aliens, then you’d been traveling for a while.

The centaur walked around the pod as the entire thing shifted from a horizontal position to a nearly vertical one. “I’m going to unlock the restraints,” he said. There was a faint click and the straps that were holding you in place retracted.

Your legs wobbled. It took all your strength to keep your body upright. It was a strain to stand, to walk, even to sit up sometimes. But your centaur insisted on making you move around.

“Hands in mine,” he said, extending his arms. You placed your hands in his and stepped out of the pod. He supported most of your weight with barely a tremble as you took a few shaky steps. His hands enveloped yours, though that was partially because of their strange shape. Unlike human hands, his were six-fingered and bilaterally symmetrical, with four ‘fingers’ and two ‘thumbs, both of which were positioned closer toward the wrist and pointed further backward than human thumbs. Despite their alien shape, holding his hands felt remarkably similar to just holding a human hand. It was a comfort.

Just as you were completing your second circuit of the room, your legs trembling like a baby deer’s, the door opened. Your centaur glanced up and his ears lowered instantly. The centaur that walked in was the first officer, the female that you’d seen when you’d first awoken.

“Officer,” your centaur said. The machine that translated everything was apparently quite accurate with tone, so you could tell that he was being both polite and annoyed. “Good to see you.” He was not happy about seeing her. “I am in the middle of something, so if this is not a pressing issue, perhaps we could continue this at a later date?” Please, please fuck off.

The veneer of politeness he was using didn’t let her be outright annoyed, but the machine’s tone when it spoke for her suggested she wasn’t very happy either. “It concerns our guest,” she said, turning her gaze to you. “And it is somewhat pressing.”

Your centaur shuffled his back legs and swung his tail. “Very well. Let’s get you back to the pod.” He ignored her, focusing his gaze on you as he assisted you back to the pod. You let out a sigh of relief as soon as you were in it. Your centaur rotated the pod back into the horizontal position and started to fill it with the thick fluid that let you float comfortably.

The first officer approached, claws clicking softly against the floor as she did so. “The human will want to be awake for this,” she said. “It’s important.”

Your centaur huffed a bit, but he didn’t move to put the sleeping drugs back in your system and just folded his arms up to his chest, in a way reminiscent of a praying mantis, and waited for her to speak.

She cleared her throat and turned her gaze to you. “We’re coming across one of our stations. You will be placed on a shuttle to the station, and then sent on another ship back to Tenso-bara.”

You blinked. What was Tenso-bara?

“In my opinion, that’s not a good idea,” your centaur said. His ears were still flattened, his lips curling back from his teeth just a little. “The hibernation causes weakness and sickness, so it may not be a good idea for travel at this point in the-”

“We are not going to come across another station for several-” The translation stuttered here, blocking the word out. “And we are not in compliance with the endangered species accords. We’re required to send endangered species to occupied worlds that hold to the accords for proper categorization and preservation.”

“Those accords aren’t for fellow intelligent species!” your centaur huffed.

“They were initially designed for non-sapient life, yes, but they do not exclude sapient species. Given what we know, we may be sheparding the last member of the human species.”

“There might be others!” you said. The first officer paused, her gaze going piercing-sharp. “The Ship was designed to separate damaged segments to protect the undamaged parts. The part of the ship I was on was only a small portion of the full thing! There are probably others!”

The first officer paused. “How many others?”

“Um. I think there were around two hundred and fifty thousand. Maybe as many as three hundred thousand? I’m not sure- they were trying to add additional pods at the end, but I was put to sleep before that happened.”

“But there is no guarantee that these other people did survive. Nor do you have any idea where the ship is now.” The first officer’s voice wasn’t cold or cruel, but it wasn’t gentle, either. You drooped a little.

“No. There might be information on the computer about where we were when the impact happened, but if it’s not there, then I don’t know where the ship could be.”

“Then I apologize, but unless we have other living members of the species or some confirmation that the others are alive, then you are under the accords and cannot stay on this ship. It is required for you to be returned to a planet.” She stamped her two front feet in a motion you assumed was like a shrug. “There is nothing I can do.”

“If that’s the case, then I want to make a request,” your centaur said. He stepped forward, practically shielding you from the first officer. “I would like to request a transfer.”

The first officer swung her tail back and forth across the floor, making a soft schff, schff, schff sound. “You wish to go with the human.” Your centaur’s ears twitched and he rubbed his wrists together. Maybe he was embarrassed at having been so obvious. “Ah, well. Yes. I think it would be a good idea to stay, since I’m already aware of the medical conditions and-”

The first officer stomped one of her feet firmly against the ground. “I will submit the request. But I cannot guarantee it will be approved.” She turned back to you, expression neutral. That you could tell, anyway. Their faces didn’t seem as expressive as a human’s. Or maybe you just couldn’t understand their expressions as well. “You will be transferred in two days.”

Without another word, she left the room. Your centaur made a noise somewhere between a relieved sigh and an irritated huff. Then he turned back toward you. “I apologize about her.”

“What was she talking about?” you asked. He picked up an IV line of sleeping meds and for a moment you thought that he was going to knock you out so he wouldn’t have to answer your questions. But he just fiddled with it for a moment before speaking.

“There are many species in the known universe, and the gradual colonization of these planets has left many of these species in critical danger, which led to environmental accords. Severely endangered species have laws regarding their transport in space and species in critical danger need to be taken to preserves in order to breed them back to proper levels. Or just keep them until their species naturally goes extinct. Whichever.”

“I’m going to be put on a nature preserve?” you said, trying to sit up. Your centaur immediately tried to usher you to lie back down.

“Probably not for long. I’m sure they’ll work to give you freedom and self-determination and all that. We’re just… required to follow regulations.” He rubbed his wrists together again. “I do want to advocate for you, though, hence why I elected to come with you. And to give you medical care.” He made a series of thumping noises in rapid succession, which the robot apparently interpreted as laughing. “I didn’t get my xenobiologist degree just to hand a medically delicate specimen over to some idiot government worker.” His voice got softer as he continued. “You’re going to be okay.”

It was comforting to hear that reassurance. He slipped the line into the shunt in your arm and you closed your eyes, feeling an unusually peaceful sleep drift over you.

Part 2 here.

#exophilia #alien partner #alien boyfriend #monster romance #monster lover #male monster

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domesticandlovingmonsters · 7 months

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Just curious to people's taste in our otherworldly parter types.

Personally, I'm a big fan of large aliens but are spindly. Don't get me wrong! Muscle daddies are amazing, and Eldridge hit different.

But something about the spindly ones are tasty~

#monster #monster x reader #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #reader insert #poll #fave type #alien #alien lover #might be for a story I'm working on #alien boyfriend #alien partner #monster poll

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sio-writes · 2 years

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Best Shot - Oneshot, 6k words

NB!Lizardfolk Alien and NB!Reader - Technically SFW but past NSFW is referenced and heavily implied/glossed over. Additional tags include general hurt/comfort, implied D/S dynamics, and child-rearing anxiety (although no one is pregnant.) If you’d like me to add any tags please feel free to message me, and happy reading!

***

Vek pulls you aside into an empty hallway, face pinched and uncomfortable. "I have a favor to ask of you."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It's not like your shipmate to make a personal call. Last time they pulled you aside like this you wound up on your knees in the supply closet, but the fact that they're checking over their shoulder and down the hall, no supply closets in sight? It must be serious.

Their shoulders are hunched, their normally deep green skin has turned sallow with worry, and the mohawk-like crest on their head is pushed back into their spine. Normally, you'd poke fun at their dejected state, ask who kicked them out of bed or something equally as juvenile. But they called on you, so you must be trustworthy enough to confide in. "Sure. What's up?"

They swallow hard and look away, towards the ground in a display of shyness you'd never seen on them before. Their face darkens to a deep purple, a color you faintly recognize as embarrassment, but have never seen on them before. "I require…your body heat."

You choke out a laugh before you can stop it, and their golden eyes snap to yours, sharp and narrowed to slits. They're not kidding.

You school your expression into one of neutrality. "That's an odd way to ask for Round Two."

They grumble, "Three, technically. But it does relate."

You push the joking aside, and lean casually against the wall, arms folded. "What is it?"

They clear their throat, gathering themselves. "After our, what did you call it, a trust?"

"Tryst," you laugh.

"Yes, that. I thought I had taken my ovulation blockers, but apparently I did not, so I began my heat cycle shortly afterwards and that's when I began panicking, and--" their eyes go wide and their face turns a deeper shade of purple before they wave a dismissive hand. "Regardless. It is my fault, but I require your assistance."

Your smile drops, and your arms fall to your sides. You have a feeling what the answer will be, but you still ask, "What is?"

Vek fishes something out of their pocket, and for one terrifying moment you think it's a bomb, and then you kind of wish it was. At first glance it looks like a disco ball, a spherical capsule the size of an apple, off white in color. You lean down to inspect the sphere, and Vek growls and jerks it back away from you. The movement is so sudden and full of emotion you're momentarily stunned, but their expression falls the moment you make eye contact, and they sheepishly offer it to you again.

"Oh shit."

Inside are dozens of translucent eggs each the size of a large coin, with squirming little Eilki embryos inside. Vek says nothing in response, their stony silence only broadcasting their shared powerlessness with the situation.

You're barely the age your parents were when they had you--and that was a clusterfuck of epic proportions. You can barely remember to drink enough water, let alone keep track of something else that also needs water. Wait, did Eilki babies need water? Did they need to stay wet like fish eggs? You feel yourself on the verge of becoming hysterical, so you run your hands over your hair a few times, finding it grounding in the slight pull on your scalp.

"So." You laugh shakily and fall back against the wall. "We're parents, huh?"

Your first instinct is to take the thing and chuck it out of the air-lock, but that's a lot of paperwork, and a lot of mortifying explanations. Plus with the way Vek grabbed it away just now, you wouldn't get very far before being eviscerated.

"I've already alerted the Captain," Vek says. "I am disembarking at the next port."

Your stomach drops. "You're…you're leaving?"

They furrow their large brow in confusion. "I sent out a ping for potential host families and got an immediate reply." They pause, studying you with those slitted pupils, then their face lights up in understanding. "Ah, I forgot you humans raise young for an exorbitantly long time." They puff out their chest as if proud. "After hatching we are self-sufficient after a turn of the planet, but incubation before that takes about 45 days. The trade-off with the host family is that I see to the first part since they cannot." Vek looks down as the capsule, turning it gently in their clawed hands. "Which is why I came to you. I cannot produce the necessary body heat. Humans can, and you are the one that I'm-- ahem-- closest to, and so the only one I could ask."

The smile you give them is childish. "You want me to sit on it."

They roll their eyes, the black slitted pupils disappearing behind their lids. "No. Normally we leave them in the daylight and then conserve heat by curling around them at night, but," they look out the window closest to the two of you, expression forlorn. "It is only truly night time here."

You want to point out that there's dozens of heat lamps close to the kitchens, but you're struck by something Vek said after you hooked up. You'd made some gripe or another about them being clingy, and they had a whole speech prepared on the sanctity of sharing body heat. Their culture likened it to a consummation, equivalent to sex itself, how whole clans were connected on that one facet alone, and suddenly the Eilki's propensity for orgies made a whole lot more sense to you. You'd even asked Vek why they don't just lay under one of the heating lamps that the other eilki do, and they scoffed, almost disgusted you'd even suggested it, and then said, "Your warmth is leagues better."

Vek turns the capsule in their hands again. "If you could take care of this, at least during the daily routines, and I would take it at night. That is all I ask."

Their face shifts into a bright shade of yellow, some emotion in them you don't recognize, as their gaze falls to the side. You've never seen them this awkward before, they're normally such a commanding presence. Just this morning they were barking orders and shouting at you to keep to schedule.

But, looking down at the capsule, so tiny in Vek's hands, you realize that this is your problem too. At least, for the next month or so. And you're nothing but an engineer of honor. Leaving Vek out to dry would be so shitty, and although you're sure they could handle it--a two meter high lizard could handle most things--but it wouldn't be right. So you sigh through your nose, push past the spear of anxiety lancing through your gut, and carefully pick up the capsule like it's made of spun glass. You're a temporary parent now, suck it up. "What do I need to do?"

Vek's eyes light up. "How deep are your pockets?"

***

You're elbow deep in the ship's oil reserves, feeling around with your bare hands for the ferrofluid block that keeps escaping your grasp because it's such a shitty feature that--there! Yanking the slippery bastard out of the tank flings your arm in a wide arc, spraying oil over the walls, but you can clean it later because it worked, baby! Since you're the only one in the secondary engine stores you do a little dance to imaginary music to celebrate your victory. Or at least, you think you're alone until you turn to see Vek, covered in a splash of dark brown oil and looking, well, more pissed than usual.

Vek is alone, which is weird because they usually have no less than ten other crew members by their side at all times. They must have come down to talk to you, and gotten caught in the cross-fire.

"Whoops," you laugh, leaning against the slowly draining tank of oil. "Sorry 'bout that."

Vek stomps up to you, tongue flicking out angrily and their eyes bright enough to start a fire. Grabbing your wrist, currently covered in oil and therefore coating their hand in it, they pull your arm so their furious face winds up an inch from yours. "What are you doing?!"

Sarcastically, you stroke their face with your free hand, smearing oil across their skin. "I'm doing my job, lieutenant."

Their face shifts into deep blue--rage--and they grip your wrist tighter. "You think this is a game?!"

You shoot them a finger-gun. "Life's a game, darlin'."

Somehow their expression intensifies. This is the talk that got you a reprimand, but it's also the talk that got Vek in that supply closet. Vek's hot when they're mad, all authoritative and commanding but in the best way. You kind of want to make the floor dirtier than it already is. You run a blackened finger over the lapel of Vek's jacket, and they rear back, nostrils flaring.

"Are you serious right now? You have bigger things to worry about, so to be so careless with--" They gesture to the front pocket of your overalls where you tucked the capsule, and their anger makes sense to you.

You arch an eyebrow. "Chill out. It's buttoned up and safe."

They scoff rolling their eyes condescendingly. "Buttoned up, oh that's lovely."

"It's fine!"

"No thanks to you!"

"I can clean it off for you if you want!"

They release your wrist to throw their arms in the air. "That's not the point!"

"What, you think I should give it to someone else?"

"No!"

"Do you wanna take it?!"

"I! Can't! I need you to keep them alive!"

You roll your eyes and drone sarcastically, "Wow, you really care about me."

"You fuck up your own life perfectly well, but to drag another into it--"

"Another like you?!"

Vek stops halfway, eyes wide, mouth parted. Like you've shocked the words from their mouth. But you don't have time for this bullshit. They said what they needed to say, and you're done.

"That's what I thought." You shove past them, not caring that you're tracking black into the hall towards the locker rooms.

You're afforded a dozen or so steps before Vek's voice rings out behind you, "Wait!"

You keep walking.

"I didn't mean it like--"

"Don't you fucking dare!"

You slam the door to the locker room, leaning your weight against it in case Vek tries to bust their way in. After a moment though you don't even hear footsteps, so you release the door and start to rip off your work boots. You can't tell if you're disappointed that Vek didn't try to break the door down, or angry they left you alone to deal with this. They always see things through to the end, and leaving you alone and gross has you feeling hollow.

Whatever. You need to get this oil off before it stains your skin.

The locker rooms are like any other, if everything was rendered in chrome. The shower squeaks on like every other shower you've been in, and it takes no time at all to start steaming. You pull the capsule out of your overalls, glaring at your warped reflection as you wait for the urge to smash it to come, but it doesn't. These little shits didn't do anything wrong, except maybe rattle around your chest while you worked. Annoying, but not guilty. There's only one guilty party in this room.

The capsule is spotless, just like you thought, and you decide to let it get some extra heat by setting it on the shelf inside the shower.

The nice thing about chrome is that it's easy to clean, so you feel zero guilt as you let your dirty overalls fall to the floor alongside the rest of your clothes. The locker rooms have spare bathrobes anyway, so you can run by your office and grab clean clothes later. The second the hot water hits your skin you groan, the tension leaving your muscles almost instantly.

You're watching the oil swirl down the drain, wondering if that's going to come back and bite you later, when you hear the door swing open and closed.

You hear the slow, lumbering steps of a predator, stopping just outside the shower curtain. And only half of you wishes they'd leave. You keep your gaze on the wall opposite the shower curtain, where it eventually falls on the capsule. The inside has fogged up, but you can see the little embryos inside are moving, like they're happy-dancing. Vek had mentioned they have a high tolerance for heat, so you grab the capsule and bring it under the water you set to nearly scalding. They're not so bad, these little dudes, they're kinda funny to watch actually. Feeling them in your pocket the past few days has turned into a comfort.

Behind you, Vek inhales like they're about to start speaking, but you cut them off.

"I'm not talking to you," you say to the wall.

Then Vek sighs, a long, sad hissing noise that matches the tone of the shower faucet. "Then I will speak to myself, then."

More rustling, and you chance a glance backwards to see that their shadow has moved from in front of the curtain to sitting on the floor beside the stall.

They growl, a short, low note in their throat. "I don't understand why you--" they pause for a deep breath, then another that turns into a heavy sigh. "I don't think you fucked up my life. I did. And I dragged you into it."

Vek has never admitted to any wrongdoing, ever. They'd rather argue to the end and get the last word than apologize. But then again, you're known for doing the same.

You grimace. Son of a bitch. "It takes two to tango, I guess."

They breathe out a laugh, and you imagine them crossing their arms. "I don't know what that means, but if you're admitting fault, I will say you're the seductive one."

You balk, indignant. "Me?? Who came up to me in the middle of the mess hall asking to bone?"

"I did not 'ask to bone'."

"Oh, my bad, you just waltzed up, right in the middle of my salad, and angrily asked to see me in the meeting room."

"The meeting room where you humiliated me."

You bark a laugh. "Where I called you out on your bullshit!"

"In front of all my colleagues and friends."

"What friends?"

Vek laughs, something you've only heard a handful of times, and it's an infectious noise so you start to laugh with them. The world feels right again, something's slotted back into place. You want this to work between them, so badly, but you never knew how.

The silence is heavy, until Vek asks, "May I come in?"

You roll your eyes, but there's a smile behind it. "If you must."

You listen to the shuffling of clothes outside, and step to the side to give Vek room as they step in. They're so large they take up nearly the whole stall, and you sigh out as they wrap their strong arms around your middle.

"I should have trusted you."

"Yeah."

"But please understand my worry."

"I'm sorry." You turn in their arms, holding up the capsule between you. "You really like these little guys, don't you?"

"They are a part of us," they say, voice pitched low. "Of course I do."

"And you think I'm the seductive one?"

Vek nuzzles your shoulder, tracing their snout up your cheek. "You are."

With a sigh, you twist back around and lean into their chest. "I'm still mad at you."

Their voice is even lower when they say, "Allow me to make it up to you."

You fake gasp. "In front of the children?"

"They don't have eyes yet."

***

For the third time in as many hours, you look over from your bed, concern making your eyebrows draw together. Through the darkness you can make out Vek on their own bed, curled around a bundle of blankets. Their long tail wraps all the way to their head, and faint green light pulses gently from their brow, marking patterns that split like veins over their rough skin. They all converge to a single point at the end of their tail before starting again at their brow, continuing endlessly in a protective circle. You've only seen Vek glow when they're sleeping, but it's never been this vibrant. It's mesmerizing, and you don't want it to stop, but you need to wake Vek up to take the eggs from them, to give them some warmth that you couldn't provide that day.

You'd been working on the ship's flight navigation motherboard, a gargantuan piece of machinery that liked to spit out heat. Normally that'd be great for keeping eggs warm, except command decided to shut off the ship while you worked, and installed a bunch of cooling fans to make the whole area feel like ice. You busted out your jacket despite the sweat rolling down your face, and the whole time you'd been worried about those damned eggs. How long could they go without heat? Vek could withstand temperatures any human could, but they always needed to warm up or risk freezing. Were the eggs the same?

After you'd told Vek how cold the motherboard had been, they merely shrugged and gave you this defeated expression before taking the capsule and muttering, "We can only see how they fare in the morning." Because they don't ask you to care after the day is over.

And now you can't sleep. Not knowing they're cold. Both of them, because holy shit this room is freezing.

You swing your legs off the bed and pull the blanket over your shoulders. The only sound is the hum of the oxygen circulator and your bare feet against the floor. You step your way over discarded pieces of clothing and the general debris that comes with living in quarters the size of a college dorm room.

You stop in front of Vek, your nerves making your muscles seize up, which they shouldn't. The two of you have shared this room for nearly a year. You'd seen all you needed to see and more. So why are you stopping now? Maybe it's the eggs, maybe it's something else. Vek has been softer the past few weeks and you don't know how to proceed. They've been shouting less, been helpful, you even heard them offering gentle advice to a crewmember. It's a welcome change, no one is having anxiety attacks at seeing them anymore, but it's still weird. An adjustment.

And this…thing between you two has evolved. It used to just be the occasional glance and a nod--a habit they picked up from you, they've said. You expected yelling across the room, orders commanded from a place of authority. Curt politeness at best. Distance. It was easy. But then they started sitting with you in the mess hall, or speaking to you about inane things on the bridge, standing just too close to you like a foreboding shadow and giving any overly-friendly crewmember a narrowed gaze. The whole ship thinks you're a couple now, and you're overrun with knowing glances every time Vek pulls you aside to demand an update on your well-being. They're less pushy, like they've calmed down.

And having Vek, strong, capable Vek, carefully wielding their power instead of throwing it around is a heady feeling, one you're quickly growing addicted to. They don't grip your arm to lead you, but apply a firm hand to your lower back. They don't outright demand you speak to them, but their steady gold eyes tell you there's no room for argument. They gently run their hand over your hair before guiding you down to their groin and keeping you there.

You're used to the hard and fast, action first questions later kind of interactions. Even before Vek, it was heat, fire, quick fumbling and then it's over. This considerate, gentle firmness they've been offering has your brain short circuiting. The heat is still there, but it radiates through you, a fission reaction through your bones that leaves marks, leaves you wanting it again and again.

But those are specific situations. Certain social rules. It may not apply in the dead of night in your shared quarters.

You shake your head to yourself and turn away from Vek's sleeping form--it's too familiar, too intimate. You didn't even cuddle that long the first time, it shouldn't be any different now. If those eggs die, ot's not your fault.

You're barely a step away when the blanket pulls around your shoulders. You whip your head around and Vek has a single claw hooked in the corner. Golden eyes glow in the dark as the green fades away. They blink at you slowly, like some kind of predator, and their voice is pitched low with sleep, "Where are you going?"

"I…" you start, hoping for an excuse to come to you, but you glance to the blanket instead, and Vek follows your eyes. You feel foolish. For gods' sake you had sex, and you're getting cold feet over some potentially necessary cuddling.

Vek shifts in the bed, gently pulling the blanket again. "Lay with me. Clothes on this time." You see the flash of teeth in the dark, an offering of a smile.

Again, you feel like a fool. Caught, vulnerable and wanting for something other than sexual gratification. That's what fools want.

"Keep me warm?" Vek asks, more awake yet somehow softer.

They're giving you an out, you realize. Something they've never done before. But…Vek really cares about those eggs. It's really important to them. And Vek, you realize shamefully, is pretty damn important to you.

"Scoot over," you mumble, hoping they can't see well enough in the dark to make out how dark your face is. Maybe the extra heat will help.

It takes a moment of arranging until you're curled around the capsule, and Vek is curled around you. Their scaly skin is cool against yours, even under their massive fluffy blanket, and you're silently thankful that you snuck over for the eggs' sake. Vek is large, curling one strong arm around you and pillowing their head with the other. You're hugging the capsule to your chest, and you feel a bit like a nesting doll, or a perfect little family.

The anxiety you feel around the eggs has lessened over the weeks. You're not so scared you're going to screw something up, not with Vek helping you out at every turn. The little capsule is starting to grow on you, you're glad to see it every morning, you find yourself constantly checking your pocket to make sure it's there. You can handle this. You can be responsible until you hand them off.

Vek tucks your head under the bottom of their snout and their voice reverberates down your back. "I know you didn't ask for this. So again…you have my thanks."

"I mean," you attempt to keep your tone light. "You didn't ask for it either."

"No," they concede. "But I admit I don't mind the idea of having young to look after."

"Isn't that what the interns are for?"

They snicker, the sound coming out like a hiss. They pet your head with one big hand, then return it to your waist. "This is not the line of work to be rearing young, but I am a bit upset to be giving these up."

Your breath catches in your throat, and questions pop like bubbles in your chest. You want to ask why. Why Vek is being so open, why they want to keep these. Why they continue to want your body heat and treat you like you're something precious. But you're afraid of the answer, that you already know it. The other Eilki on the ship, they must be able to smell it on you. The past week you've been met with upturned snouts, but even worse are the understanding glances, the knowing smiles that look horrifying with their jagged teeth. It can't possibly be because of you. You can't keep these, you couldn't handle it.

Vek is stroking your arm with gentle movements, and the emotion that wells up in your chest is too big to name. Your whisper is louder than the oxygen circulator, "I can't be a parent."

Their tongue flicks the top of your head, a gentle caress against your heated skin. "That is alright."

***

You trace your index finger around the edge of one of the eggs, watching the tiny forms move beneath the clear casing. In the light, the eggs are all practically transparent, and you can count the toes of each little eilki--three for the front, four in the back, just like Vek. Seeing it brings tears to your eyes--you can't give them up. The thought of being a full time parent still terrifies you, but these eggs? They've relied on you for a month and a half, they're yours. You dream of they'll look like, green like Vek, or a shade of brown? Their stupid little wiggles, the three sets of twins inside. It's a knife to the gut that you'll never get to find out about any of them, but maybe that's for the best. You fumbled the capsule a few days ago and nearly gave Vek a heart attack. You didn't drop it! But you almost did. Hardly fit for parenting.

The Decanode port is barely that--little more than a worn down metal arm sticking out of a spare moon orbiting a gas giant. You feel tetanus creeping in just looking at it, and this is where you're dropping off the eggs? At this distance, you're beginning to parse out individuals as they mill about the port. There's shops with fabric in muted colors hanging in the doorways, standalone stalls with excitable vendors, and open windows advertising things in so many languages you half expect to see English amongst them. You want to steer the ship as far away as possible.

You frown in displeasure as it zooms into view from the holding deck, and Vek's hand rests heavy on your shoulder. You hadn't even heard them walk up.

"The family doesn't live here. They reside in a binary star system about three light-years off course."

"They're not good enough," you pout, fighting back the burning in your nose that means tears for about the sixth time that day. You shove the capsule into your front pocket. "Do we really need to give them up?"

Vek's brow raises. "You're asking me this now."

"I mean, with so many it'll be hard for a while but we could--"

Vek lifts you off the floor and holds you tightly in their arms, their voice muffled against your shoulder. "We cannot."

You deflate, your weight dragging you down even with your feet several inches off the floor. "Yeah, I know."

This is a scientific vessel, but it's still too dangerous for children, even if they are fully self-sufficient after a year. You sniff into Vek's shoulder, burying your tears into their uniform--crisp and pressed as always.

A few groups of crew pass by as the two of you make zero movements away from each other, but you find you don't care if you make a spectacle. If the crew didn't know why the ship stopping at this shitty port before, the gossip spread fast enough to cover it. You've gotten a few extra sympathetic glances over the week, but mostly everyone is refusing to look at you. Looking at Vek is kind of a requirement of living on the ship, but you're maintenance. Practically invisible.

Their face and neck are flushed a deep green, richer and darker than their usual color. After they set you down, their face falls, pulled down by gravity and something heavier as they look out the viewing window towards the port.

"Let's get ready."

Walking down the ramp to the port feels like a death sentence, until you spot the group of five blue Onens huddled together, waving excitedly at you step onto the port. They're too far away for your translator to pick up specific words, but you can still hear the excitement in their watery language as they talk amongst one another. You switch on the secondary translator at your throat as you approach, offering a hand in greeting, but no smile so you don't scare them with your teeth.

"Thank you for meeting with us."

One of the Onen grabs your hand, their non-Newtonian form first a solid as they squeeze and then a curl of gelatinous goo that settles over your skin. They speak a few words before the translator picks up the rest.

"--a wonderful thing that you give to us, we have raised many of this kind before so don't you worry a bit, they will have all the attention and food they could desire and--"

The Onen is cut off by another of their group, who gestures to their melting hand, currently making its way down your arm. They make a gurgling noise, likely one of surprise, before the whole thing peels off of you with a wet schlocking sound. The previous Onen waves their hand in a gesture of respect, their gaze solid and comforting.

"You are very brave for doing this."

You try not to grimace. Doubt is worming it's way into your mind like a fungus, and you want to step back and away from the group. These aliens raise other young as part of their religion, taking in anything no questions asked. What if there's other species there that these young don't get along with? And not all Onen are altruistic. They could be taking the eggs to eat them for all you know.

But then one of them pulls out a picture communicator, and passes it over the shoulder of the one in front. It works similar to a tablet on the ship, allowing you to swipe through photo after photo of all of them with various hatchlings and young. Every picture oozes happiness, you even catch them sitting in the twin suns with eilki hatchlings. And a big family who could give them the attention they deserve. No egg eating to be found.

Your hand falls over your front pocket where you tucked the capsule, and you force yourself to say, "So how do we, uh, how do we do this?"

One of the Onen turns their liquid eyes to Vek. "They are far enough along, yes?"

Vek speaks up, their voice tight. "They're able to maintain an internal temperature. When they begin to hatch, simply open to capsule."

They nod their head to you, and you pull the capsule out of its hiding place.

"Wonderful!" One of the Onen remarks, hands reaching out to grab it but you hesitate, tucking it into your chest.

"I…" You're stuck, frozen. There has to be something you're missing. But this is the right choice. This is the right choice. You just need to move. "I don't…"

Vek steps into you, allowing you to subtly lean into their weight. They squeeze your shoulder in reassurance. "It's okay."

Slowly, in halting movements, you stretch out your arm like you're waiting for the capsule to explode. Just as slowly, with great care and steady hand, the Onen places their palm underneath as support, and waits patiently for you to finally let go.

Releasing your fingers feels like cracking your bones, but at the same time, as you watch all the Onen's expressions fall to the capsule and soften from simple patience complete and utter awe, the weight that's been hanging over you for so long lifts like a veil from your shoulders. It had you covered like a shroud, fraying your nerves with worry and despair over the unknown. But now you know they're going to be okay, and despite the gnawing hole in your chest, you can finally breathe. The Onen are perfect, you couldn't have chosen better yourself. You fruitlessly wipe at the trail of tears as they profusely thank both of you, and you forget clearing your face altogether when you watch them all walk away. The translator picks up pieces of their conversations--ideas for names, the best food. Those little shits are going to grow up so fuckin' loved.

They round the corner, and you're surrounded by patrons again. Vek pulls you into another bone-crushing hug, their breathing is short and they've turned that dark green all over. They feel solid, stable like always, something you've both needed throughout this whole ordeal.

"This sucks," your voice is muffled by their heavy jacket, but your message comes across all the same.

Vek huffs through their nose. "I know," and their hand falls across your shoulder as you head back to the ship.

***

It's a shitty week all around, between your own head and the ship pretty much falling apart all at once. Vek hadn't been faring much better, dragging their feet and muttering commands like the wind had been sucked from their sails. So you blame your rash decision on emotional turmoil, and pulled them into your room for something quick. But quick turned into desperate and needy, built up tension bleeding out of your every move as Vek fell back into harsher habits.

But a distraction was what you both needed. Your head is more clear, and you've cried enough for the past week. Vek's breathing is even underneath you, finally calm after so many days on edge between hysteria and depression. Their direction was welcome, concrete words for you to follow between bouts of the kindness you'd gotten so used to over the weeks. They'd kissed the claw marks they left on your thighs and your heart melted.

Now your quarters are dark and quiet, trapping you in a liminal space where the outside world doesn't exist anymore. It leaves space for thoughts to flow, emotions on their heels but no longer as big, no longer as unmanageable. A question that had been sitting in the back of your mind makes itself present.

"Would you ever…want to be a parent?"

Vek glances at you sidelong. "I'd rather not go through this whole ordeal again."

"No, I mean…" You waffle for a moment too long. Vek grabs your chin in their hand and forces you to make eye contact. "I guess…"

Their eyes glow against the dark. "Yes?"

"To keep." The rest of the implication is in your voice, you hope.

They release your jaw, turning back and laying flat. Their face shifts into a darker hue--in the low light you can't for sure tell which, but you have a guess they're turning purple. "I understood that you do not want young."

"I mean, not right now. But…maybe someday?"

"Do not compromise yourself for me."

"I'm not." You press your hands flat to their chest. "I always thought I'd be alone. Raising them, I mean. And that would be a disaster. Absolute fuckery of a parent. But with you…I don't think it would be so bad. I'll never want, like, a million of them like we had. But…maybe just one? Someday? I dunno." You fiddle with your hands. "We're…kind of good together."

Vek lays their hands on top of yours, stilling them as they look at you. "You're considering this."

You flush. "I-I'm just talking."

The hands over yours wrap around your fingers, and they flick their tongue to your lips. "You would make a fine parent."

You feel like you're turning purple under their gaze. "In the mean time though…Keep taking those blockers?"

"You tell me when to stop. And if that day never comes, I will simply have you all to myself."

You smile into the hug they offer. "Sounds like a plan."

#my writing #sfw.#alien x reader #alien partner #alien romance #monster fucker #monster romance #exophillia #teratophillia #i hope it's polished enough i really want this to do justice to the concept #i tried to be nuanced in the take and i hope it doesn't just come off as inconsistent #when I say this concept had a chokehold on my brain for the past 48 hours i mean #i was being deprieved of oxygen until i finished it #my entire working title for this was Juno (in space)#that and the tagline i was thinking 'giving them their best shot' was driving me insane #because i KNEW it was FROM SOMETHING but i couldn't think of WHAT #until it clicked and i shouted Out Loud ONCE UPON A TIME #Fantasci

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justanotherstardrop · 2 years

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autistic alien partners

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primal-con · 11 months

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More of this actually cause apparently I’m Full of ideas

#transformers #maccadam #rise of the beasts #noah diaz #kris diaz #mirage #rotb #if Doom can run on a pregnancy test and a potato and a smart fridge #it can run on an alien robot #that’s it that’s the entire idea #the inherent intimacy of rooting around in your robot partner’s head/the inherent intimacy of trusting someone to root around in your head #<— is there a tag for that?#there should be

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improper-use-of-germx · 5 months

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Interspecies kissing my beloved. Species that show affection through biting, species that literally don't have mouths so they just ram their forehead into yours like a touchstarved cat.

Species with specially produced venom that makes giving kisses a bit difficult, but a human s/o can kiss them like there's no tomorrow, and they very much would appreciate if you did.

Species that don't do the snuggly bits of a relationship, but they make sure to taptaptap you on the shoulder at least once a day as a reminder of their affection.

Just any kind of alien or monster that looks at humans kissing and decides they want in somehow.

#alien x human #alien x reader #monster x human #monster x reader #alien #alien imagines #humans are weird #imagines #humans and aliens #aliens #monster lover #monster partner

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gentlemonst3r · 14 days

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Predator monsters are cool and all, I like them too, but what if there was a herbivore monster?

What if you were scarier to them than they are to you?

They rationalize that humans eat meat of herbivores, just like they are, and even if we don't eat their specific species (because they're sapient), they know that a lot of us would have a taste for it if we did

Imagine having to reassure them that you're not gonna eat them, that human instincts don't work like those of most animals

Having to be the one to change your diet around them to make sure they're comfortable instead of the other way around

And what if they were kinda into it? What if they were into primal play with you as the pred?

Honestly my heart just melts thinking about it

#I might have been watching too many herbivore alien writing prompts #terato #exophilia #monster #teratophile #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster girlfriend #monster partner #monster fuqqer

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solradguy · 8 months

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Johnny Guilty Gear Strive is not a single day under 37 years old. "Age: Unknown" my ass. Face of a man whose frequent all-nighters in his 20s finally caught up with him. I understand, Johnny, I empathize...

#Photopost #Beard Johnny is awakening something in me...#Jk Johnny's always been a babe. Putting a beard on him's like garnishing a good steak #And like any juicy rare steak worth it's weight I will pick him up with both hands and tear him apart betwixt my jaws like an animal #The power went out and there's so much red and bright blue lightning outside it's like an alien planet. My phone is at 50%#The wind was blowing apples off the tree in the backyard and they were bouncing off the roof haha #Tomorrow I need to go see if it knocked down any of the ripe red ones from its apex... They're small but they're delicious #Tree had so many apples this year a big branch snapped from their weight. Bees'll be happy though when the apples fall and rot #Anyway I think Johnny mostly bottoms for men and less so for women but for Johnny/Sol... well... ;^)#I've imagined that Sol only bottoms if his partner can kick his ass #Lmao this took a turn. Bored and stoned. No internet and no lights to even read by. Unfiltered Sol Radguy after dark thoughts #Suggestive cw #Drugs cw

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stars-n-spice · 4 days

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everyday I thank the Force that Tech's love interest is a black woman. god bless

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softness-and-shattering · 4 months

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So I put on this netflix show, in their tradition of being extremely obvious with names its called Mech Cadets, and its an alien-mecha human-pilot fight-the-giant-bug-aliens story. My first complaint is that the alien mechas are called Robo's. Wow exciting /sarcasm. Anyway thats totally forgiven because 1 the story actually makes choices and puts the characters through consequences instead of like hinting at oh it something bad gonna happen psych we dont have the guts for that. Its a kid/teen show so its not super dark but it follows through and goes the places it needs to.

2, and maybe most importantly, I gotta talk about the disability rep. There's four teens chosen by the alien mechs to be their drift-compatible pilots (I think im using that correctly? Im not super informed on the genre but I know some), and we see straight away that one of the guys has a prosthetic leg from the thigh down, and uses it as an example to tell the main protagonist, hey none of us are perfect we dont have to be perfect we just need to be human. The next episode the mechas are given human-designed weapons to fight with, and the disabled kid gets these flippy sticks I cant quite work out. One of them gets a staff, the other gets this glove for punching, story moves on. Then a bug-alien-antagonist gets into the teens dorm and while fighting it, the alien dismembers the guys prosthetic. He immediately grabs his crutches and goes to town on it with his crutches, and balancing on them to kick with his one good foot*. Then they disconnect the rest of the prosthetic and use its sharp edge to kill the alien. And then he just moves around on his crutches with no comment and Ill cut myself off there so I dont spoil the whole thing.

Except, a couple episodes later, Im watching him in the mech fighting and moving around, and I realise that his giant fuck-off monster attacking weapons ARE A PAIR OF CRUTCHES. Theyre his fucking WEAPONS. Thats cool as fuck!

#is it mech and not mecha and im making a fool of myself? I just cant quite bear to call them Robos im sorry #Mech Cadets #Theres more nice stuff about the disability rep but I want to leave some surprises for y'all when you watch it #The animation is ok theres one character who's face sometimes looks a bit plastic and moves a bit janky imho but otherwise its alright #I also definitely want more about the robos as people because theyre intelligent but theyre also a bit treated like machines #and not sentient beings #but they clearly are sentient #theres definitely themes happening about how alive they are but its not properly dug into yet. if they get a second season I definitely wan #more on them #like why did they just show up to earth to partner with people and fight the bug aliens? where are they from? whats their motivation?#but in a I want more world building way not in a wow this is shit world building way #anyway #mine #disability rep #disability representation #its got some really fun vibes #*his one foot. he doesnt have a good foot and a bad foot he just has a foot. getting him mixed in my head with Kaz Brekker and his cane

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ash-rigby · 2 years

Photo

I wanted to draw something and Syren–an alien from the next story I’m planning–happened.

[they/them; by Earth English equivalent]

#art #mild #oc art #terato #exophilia #alien #monster love #monster lover #monster partner #alien love #alien lover #alien partner #monster oc #alien oc #oc:syren

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love-and-monsters · 7 months

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The Ship and the Alien Pt. 4

M alien X GN reader, 6,315 words

The grand finale! In all seriousness, I got writers block on several parts of this and the ending turned out more bittersweet than I initially intended, so. I hope people are okay with this? I really wanted to get this out before October, too. Big Ls all around, I suppose. Speaking of, if you have any ideas for a Halloween-monster story, I'm eager to hear! I'd like more feedback about what people want to see.

Part one Part two Part three

Content warning: Depression, mentions of medical procedures, existential dread

You lay, curled in your bed, for the rest of the night. But no matter how long you lay there, eyes closed, you didn’t sleep. Grove-peace did, eventually, making little snorting noises on occasion. You didn’t move, even when it felt like your bladder would burst halfway through the night. He was clearly exhausted, and he wasn’t even sleeping in a proper bed. Because he wanted to stay with you.

That guilt comfortably settled in with all the other negative emotions you’d been feeling, weighing down your body like a thick, heavy coat.

There’s no natural light in your room, since it’s in the interior, but the lights set into the corners of your room seem to lighten and darken like the sun- they were stronger when you first got into the room, dimmed as it got later, then started to brighten again after quite a length of He time. Grove-peace stirred, ears twitching rapidly before his eyes opened and he stretched.

“Great sunsa,” he groaned, staggering to his feet. “I have got to stop falling asleep lying down. My legs are stiff.”

“Sorry,” you muttered.

“Don’t apologize,” he insisted. “Please, I’ll be fine, just stiff.” He stretched all of his legs, even bending his back legs out in a way more reminiscent of a cat than a horse. “How are you doing?”

You shrugged. His face fell for a second before he hurriedly picked it back up. “Okay. Maybe you should have something to eat, then?”

“I just woke up,” you said. A lie, considering that you’d never fallen asleep, but maybe one that he’d buy. “I don’t really like eating right after waking up.”

He stared at you for a moment, ears twitching. “Okay,” he said, hesitant. “At least get up for a moment, then. Would you like to change your clothes? Shower? Go for a walk? I’ve always liked going for walks in the morning, so stretch my legs.”

You glared at him. How could a person be so prepared to do things right after waking up? It had been like, three minutes. “I’m good.”

It was weird, because a look of near distress flickered across his face for a moment before it was smothered by his ‘eager puppy’ look. “You’ve been lying down for a while. You must be at least a little stiff. I’m sure it would feel good to get up, even if only for a moment.” He shifted his legs, one after the other. “And I’d imagine you have to relieve yourself, too, at least.”

Okay, he wasn’t wrong about that last one. You felt like you were going to explode, and as much as you didn’t feel like getting out of bed, you didn’t want to wet the bed, either. You shifted your limbs and crawled out of bed with an agility that could only be matched by a very drunk sloth.

Grove-peace looked pleased by it, though. He gestured toward the bathroom, practically following you there, thought not in. He respected your privacy at least that much.

Pissing in a centaur toilet was a little awkward- it was clearly designed for someone bigger than you with, uh, bits that were situated in a different position. It took a little maneuvering, but it wasn’t impossible. Whatever. If they were so happy to have a near-extinct species hanging out with them, they could clean up after you.

You fumbled back out of the bathroom, having washed your hand with actual water (thank god for small mercies. Then curse him for the big problems) and headed back toward your bed. Unfortunately, your path was blocked by Grove-peace.

“Do you need something?” you ground out. He stared everywhere except at you, eyes a little too wide, ears twitching, tail twisting back and forth behind him.

“Um.” His ears perked up. “Yes. We have some… ah… you need to go on a tour!”

“You already showed me around a little yesterday,” you said. You moved to step around him and he blocked your path, practically scrambling to stay in front of you. “What are you doing?”

“I just said.” His voice was a little too cheery- the edge of strain was showing through it. “I need to take you on a tour. You haven’t even seen any of the outdoor areas!”

You huffed. “I’m tired. And it’s early.”

“That’s the best time for a tour, though. There won’t be so many people around,” Grove-peace insisted. “Please? I’ll let you go to bed after this.”

You hesitated, grumbled, and considered. But he didn’t seem particularly eager to let it go. Eventually, you sighed. “Fine, fine. As long as it’s quick.”

He beamed at that and gestured with his tail for you to follow him. You did so, slogging along after his steps. It took so much motivation to keep up with him, even when he slowed down.

He led you through the building slowly, though that didn’t just seem to be for the purposes of letting you keep up- he also glanced over his shoulder at regular intervals and paused to peek around corners. Wherever he was taking you, it clearly wasn’t somewhere you were supposed to be.

Well, whatever. He could get himself in trouble, if he wanted to. All you had to do was play the part of an innocent little lamb, being dragged along to whatever he wanted to show you. You were just a poor, little, baby human! How could you be expected to know anything, when you had to depend on all the big, strong aliens around to protect you!

It wasn’t until he was stopping in front of a door to the outside that you realized that if you got caught and he got in trouble, he might get reassigned or something. And that would be kind of a problem, when he was the only centaur you’d met so far who treated you like an actual person more than a fun curiosity.

“Are we supposed to be doing this?” you asked.

“Not technically,” he said, casting another glance up and down the hallway. “But we’re not going to get caught. And you were pining for a bit of nature on the ship, weren’t you? So I think you’ll like…” He slid the door open with a flourish. “This!”

It was a park. Outdoors, but fenced off to make a neat little area. It didn’t quite look well-kept. Plants grew out in all directions, but they seemed to be generally kept off of some paths, and since the paths were designed for centaurs, they were certainly wide enough for you to walk on. There were riots of colors- even a few reddish-green plants popped up here and there, and there was a weird, squat tree-thing that was laden with plump, bulbous yellow flowers. A strong breeze picked up and one of them wobbled just a bit too much, then tilted and tumbled straight off the tree. It exploded into a burst of pollen as soon as it hit the ground.

“Don’t breathe that in,” Grove-peace warned. You slapped a hand over your mouth and nose.

“It’s not dangerous, is it?” Your curiosity really did want to go over there and take a look, but you weren’t stupid enough to disregard the warning. Grove-peace twitched his ears a couple of times, then stepped forward and carefully kicked the flower off the path.

“No, probably not. But we don’t want you having an allergic reaction to something here, either. Probably not good for you to breathe anything in.” He wrinkled his nose a little and shook himself off. “Ugh, those things even give me the sniffles when they explode too close.”

“I’m not allergic to you,” you said, giving his fur a cautious glance. It’s short and close to his skin, like a cow’s or horse’s, so maybe it’s not as aggravating as something like a cat’s would be.

“No, and that’s good. No idea what we would have done if you were.” He sighed. “They’ll probably give you an allergy examination later, as part of the non-emergency medical panels.”

Oh cool, more medical stuff. You wrinkled your nose, but didn’t say anything else. “But that’s not what I took you out here for,” he said, trotting forward with a little more enthusiasm. After following the path a little further, he knelt down next to a particularly large, almost overgrown bush. You knelt next to him, a little confused. His tail twitched excitedly behind him as he bent forward and started to click somewhere deep in his chest. He alternated between clicks and trills for a moment, and then the bush rustled.

A tiny little nose poked forward, followed by the body of a squat little animal. It wriggled on six stubby little legs, the frontmost ones tipped with blunt, spade-like claws. Its eyes were small, almost just little black spots on his face that blinked rapidly in the light of the garden. They reminded you a little of moles. Your centaur lowered his hand and the twitching nose went right into his palm, snuffling around with intense fervor. A couple other little critters poke their noses out of the bush as well, one of them skittering closer to you.

“You can touch them,” Grove-peace said. “They don’t bite- they can’t. No teeth.”

You extended your hand toward one of them and it shoved its little nose in your palm with a tickly sensation. You could feel its little breaths huffing against your skin. “What are these little guys?”

“They’re-” A series of clicks that you can’t physically replicate. Maybe you’ll just call them long moles. “They’re hardy little things, and very good for gardens, hence why they’re here. They always come with us when we terraform other planets, even if other animals don’t.”

You hesitate, letting the long mole wriggle around your palm for a moment before asking, “Where is your planet? Your… home?”

Grove-peace laughed. “Our ancestral home is quite a ways away. I’ve never been there. I’m what people call a ‘ship-hopper.’ I was born in space, I move between ships as work demands, and I only go planetside on occasion.”

“What about your family?” you asked. “Do you ever get to see them?”

“On occasion. It’s easier for people whose families are all on one planet to manage that sort of thing. Most of the time, I prefer to just give them a sensor call- it’s easier to manage that scheduling than it is to figure out who’s going whose ship and what scheduled transfers there are and who has to take what time off work in order to get there.”

“Space travel sounds complicated,” you said.

“It can be. It’s also quite interesting, though. I’ve met quite a few interesting people,” he said. “Present company included.”

He nudged your side, warm and gently, and there was a weird fluttering feeling that swooped through your chest.

There was silence for a little while. The long moles scrambled around, eventually crawling up your arms. They were surprisingly gentle, even when they were grasping at your clothes with long claws. Two of them managed to crawl all the way up to your armpits and nosed around like they were trying to attach themselves there.

“They like warmth,” Grove-peace said. “That’s why they’re so affectionate- that and they’re semi-domesticated at this point.”

Eventually, you had to put them back. They kept trying to crawl back to you in a piteously cute manner, but Grove-peace insisted on shooing you away. “They’ll go back home once we leave- they’re just all still looking for warmth.”

The pair of you snuck back to your room. “Do you feel better?” Grove-peace asked as you sat down in bed. You shrugged.

“They were really cute.”

Grove-peace nodded, shifting his legs again. His ears twitched anxiously. “You seem to have perked up a little. We could get something to eat now, maybe? Or something else, if you’d like to do that?”

“I just want to lie down,” you said. The long moles had been cute, but now that you were back in your room, it was sort of wearing off. Grove-peace scuffed a fore-foot against the floor, tail flicking back and forth.

“Maybe you can lie down after you eat something? Just a little. Or have something to drink? You’re…” Grove-peace trailed off, his expression stricken. You glanced sideways at him.

“Why are you here?” Your tone was neutral, less accusing and more curious. Grove-peace’s ears twitched and he tilted his head to one side like he hadn’t quite understood the question. “Like, you said so yourself. You’re a ship-hopper. Isn’t it weird for you to be on a planet like this?” “Well, yes,” he said, still uncertain, like he wasn’t sure where the conversation was going and he was trying to brace for a trick question. “But you’re here. So I’m here.”

“Don’t give me that crap.” Your voice was practically a snarl. Hurt flickered across his expression. The flare of guilt in your chest was immediate, but you pressed on. “I couldn’t pick up a lot of what was happening when I woke up, but I could put together the basics. You weren’t supposed to leave the ship, were you? You volunteered. So why are you here? Why did you want to come with me? Because I’m some last member of a species? Because I’m interesting? Be-”

“No!” Grove-peace protested. “Not- I do think you’re interesting, to be clear. But that’s not why I came with you. Well. Not the only reason.” He moved closer, settling next to your bed again. “When we found your ship, it was a momentous discovery. We thought it was completely gone, so we would only be studying corpses and using the ship to find others of your species, should there be any left. But we found you.” His vice got breathy, awestruck. “It was amazing for scientific reasons, of course, and as a xenobiologist, I was thoroughly fascinated by you when we were taking you out of hibernation. But then when we took you out…”

He trailed off, thumping his back feet against the ground. “You were small and alone and helpless. And the instant I saw you, you weren’t some kind of specimen anymore. You were a person, and you were alone. How could I have left you after that?”

He fell sort of miserably silent after that. You stared at him. “You’re still here because you feel responsible for me?”

“To a certain extent. But I’m also here because I think you’re a fascinating person, and I think you deserve to have one person here who’s completely on your side.”

You stared at him for a long moment. There was a weird trembling feeling in your gut and your eyes stung a little. “Thank you,” you whispered after several moments of silence. It felt like a poor response to his big speech, but you really couldn’t think of any way to express what you were feeling. He laughed quietly.

“Don’t thank me. I don’t need it.” He unfolded his legs, stretching as he stood up. “I’m going to go get you some food, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You watched him walk out of the room. There was still that weighted sadness over your entire body, but something in your chest felt warmer. Gentler. Everything was just the tiniest bit brighter.

When Grove-peace came back, you even ate some of the food he offered. And the look of relief on his face made that weighted sadness even less pronounced.

The days blurred together after that. Apparently days on this planet were slightly longer than days on Earth, which screwed with your sleep schedule for a while. Thankfully, it wasn’t so different from Earth that you couldn’t adjust to it. The medical tests continued, from being poked and prodded with needles to just lying down in a big pool for hours. You fell asleep during that one, to the amusement of Grove-peace. He lingered around for most of your tests and acted as something of an interpreter or go-between for the scientists. Not that they wanted him there. They all wanted to talk with you directly. Fortunately, they also caved pretty quick when you just refused to talk without Grove-peace.

In the midst of all that, they started preparing your home.

They’d gotten to the whole thing rather quickly, all things considered. Apparently, they were using human housing blueprints they’d downloaded off your section of the ship to create the building, with some modifications to make it accessible for centaurs. It was set not too far from the facility you were already living in, which you’d discovered when Grove-peace had taken you out to the site. The area had been swarming with centaurs and mechanical building equipment, and you’d been reluctant to go closer. Most people you interacted with had stopped trying to touch you without permission, but you still didn’t appreciate the blatant staring.

“It’ll be built on a shift-frame, so they’ll be able to move it easily, though that also means you won’t have a basement,” Grove-peace said as he examined the building plan in front of him. You had a copy that was translated into English, but you still struggled to understand it. You weren’t an architect. “They’re planning a garden area, though- indoors, but you might be able to grow some Earth plants, with approval. That’ll be nice, right?”

You hummed noncommittally. Yesterday, they’d pinged you an update on the Human Ship Rescue Mission. It was pretty much the same as the last one- nothing. There were some notes about them commandeering a ship to actually go out there and search, but nothing concrete. Super fun. You sure were glad they were taking their time to be thorough about it.

(Okay, yes, objectively it was better that they weren’t rushing into a rescue mission half-cocked and all that because if they made it to the human ship and like, exploded or something, that would make everything worse, but also. It was massively frustrating sitting around and doing a shit-ton of nothing).

“Are you still there?” Grove-peace asked with a gentle nudge to your side.

“Where else would I be?” you mumbled. “I’m just here. Looking into getting a lovely new cottage while the remains of my species drift happily through the black death-void of space. Real good time I’m having.”

Grove-peace fell silent and a worm of guilt worked its way through your chest. Okay, that wasn’t quite fair. It wasn’t like any of this was his fault. He was just trying to make you feel better. Even if all you wanted to do was lie face down in the dirt and let the planet eat you. “Sorry.”

“You’re allowed to be upset,” Grove-peace said immediately, which was his fun new phrase. Every time you got pissy, he was all ‘well, you’re allowed to be upset.’

“Yeah, maybe. Doesn’t mean I should be taking it out on you.” You slouched down into the dirt. Maybe you should have cared more about the clothes you were wearing, considering they were now technically relics of a near-extinct species. But you were also a relic of a near-extinct species and you didn't care about yourself, so.

“Are you tired?” Grove-peace asked, sitting next to you. “I can carry you.”

“I’m not tired. I just don’t feel like walking anymore.” You gazed toward the clearing your home was going into, the little patch of fenced-off framework that had already gone up. “I’m not physically tired. Just heavy, you know.”

Grove-peace nodded. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

You leaned your torso against his and let out a shuddering sigh. The contact helped. Really helped, actually. Just his physical presence, the reassuring warmth and weight and alive-ness of another person there settled the frantic, painful ache inside you. “You are helping.”

“Something more I could do to help,” he insisted. “Something to take the pain away.”

He sounds mournful, as if your pain is causing him pain, too. Guilt flashes through you, worse this time. “There’s not a way you can do that,” you said. “And I don’t know if I would want you to if you could. I feel like maybe… maybe I’m supposed to feel like this. Like I’m obligated to mourn.”

“That doesn’t seem like it’s fair to you. You’re just supposed to be sad for the rest of your life? Even if you could fix it?”

“If my species is going extinct, I don’t really want to be happy about it. I don’t even feel good being neutral about it. It feels right to be miserable about it.” Grove-peace fell silent for a long moment. You stared up at the sky. Was the sky a slightly darker blue here? Maybe. It was hard to tell. You didn’t’ have pictures to compare it to.

“I still hope you’ll be able to be happy,” he finally said. “Maybe it’ll take a while. And maybe it won’t be the same as it was before. But I still hope you’ll be able to be happy.”

“I spent most of my life with a sword hanging over my head,” you said. “We all knew humanity was going extinct back on Earth. Since I was like, ten, people knew that only a small percentage of us would be saved. And there was nothing we could do. When I was picked, I was still sad, but it sort of… abated, I guess. For a little while. Like I actually had hope that maybe I was going to be a part of something bigger. That my life mattered. And then when I woke up again, everything was gone.” You closed your eyes for a moment. “Maybe this is just the way I’m supposed to be. Mourning everything all the time. Even if things get better, I think there’s still going to be a part of me that’s mourning. I don’t think it’ll ever stop.”

Grove-peace curled his tail around me. “You still matter now.”

“It’s not the same. I matter to you guys, because I’m the last of my species. But I don’t matter to other people. I’m not… a part of something in the same way. I mattered to those people as a part of their community, as someone who was building the future with them. Now I’m… like a museum piece. I matter, but I’m separate. I matter like a fun curiosity, not like a person.”

Grove-peace’s tail curled even closer to you, resting across your lap. “You matter like a person to me.” The little translation bot was pretty close to your head, but even then, it barely projected loud enough for you to hear it. His thumping was, similarly, barely present enough for you to feel it.

Maybe it was a simple, cheesy statement. But it made your eyes water regardless.

There was a long pause. Grove-peace seemed to be deep in thought about something, his hands absently playing with the strands of hair that had finally started sprouting from your head again. They were still short, but they’d earned you some fascination from quite a few centaurs, since their hair was short all over their bodies.

“Do you want to leave?” Grove-peace’s voice was still quiet, almost nonexistent again.

“Leave?” you repeated. “What do you mean, leave?”

“Go somewhere else. I have a basic flight license. That’s enough to get us in the air and out of direct orbit. And then we can bug it off the star routes and head anywhere we want.”

You snorted, lips twitching. “Where, exactly, would we be going? And how do you plan to get me on the ship anyway? I’m precious, you know. Like an artifact. They’re not going to let you just take me.”

“I could smuggle you. You’re not that big. I’m sure I could get you into a piece of luggage.” He smirked a little. “I could pass you off as a big alien pet.”

You elbowed his side. “Yeah, sure. Let’s say you do manage to get me off planet without anyone noticing, which I don’t think you could do. Where do we go after that?”

“Anywhere we want!” he said, then seemed to reconsider. “Well, not anywhere. We would have to avoid major population areas, since they would notice you’re gone eventually and send out an alarm. But we can just move off into the unregulated areas of space, and no one will bother us there.”

“Uh huh. There won’t be any way for them to track down the ship that took off with their most precious endling,” you said with as much sarcasm as you could muster.

“I’m sure I could disable the internal tracker systems,” he said, not sounding sure at all. “And space is big- if we get enough of a head start, we could get away with enough headway for them to miss us.”

“And then what? Where do we go from there?” you asked. He fell silent for a few minutes.

“Anywhere we want, as long as it’s not in heavily populated space.”

“Uh huh. We’re going to land on whatever planet we want and start our own little colony,” you said. Your voice was still sarcastic, but you couldn’t help the undercurrent of longing in it. Grove-peace must have picked up on it, because he shifted to better hold you with his tail and arms.

“Yes. We’ll steal the seeds and food we need and I can get all the information we need. We’ll set up our own little home on some tiny, backwater world, and we’ll live without anyone interfering,” Grove-peace finished triumphantly and a little wistfully.

The pair of you fell silent for a bit. You sighed. “We can’t do that, though. We don’t know how to survive out there. We probably wouldn’t make it to the nearest planet, much less some place in the middle of nowhere in space.”

“We would probably be captured before we even left the planet’s claimed space,” Grove-peace agreed. “Even if I did manage to take the tracker off the ship, they would probably be able to track it by engine pulse alone- it’d be tough, but they’d do it.”

You ran your palm over your head. “I’m honestly surprised they haven’t put a tracker in me yet. Like you do for a pet you might lose.”

“They wouldn’t have to,” Grove-peace said. “You’re noticeable enough that they could rely on word of mouth alone, unless you got caught by smugglers or something. Actually, that’s probably one of the reasons they’re so worried about you going off-planet. They’re not wrong when they say space travel is dangerous on its own, but there are way more thriving smuggler rings in space than planetside, especially if you’re going beyond the major station locations.” “What do the smuggler rings even want with me? Are they going to chop me up and sell my meat to the highest bidder?” you complained.

“Maybe, but I think they’d probably think that’s a waste. More likely, they’d sell you to the highest bidder, and they’d do whatever they want. A lot of people like alien pets, and you would probably be quite a status symbol, seeing as you can talk.” Grove-peace pauses. “And there are probably other people who would like an alien pet for… other reasons.”

“Other reasons?” you repeated. “What, like to bang them?”

It was clearly the answer, because Grove-peace jolted like you’d stuck him with a pin. His eyes, wide as saucers, land on you. Maybe he thought he was speaking too low for the translator to catch, or maybe he thought you wouldn’t pick up on the implications. But the way he was staring at you made you think that he wasn’t just surprised. He looked embarrassed that you’d heard him.

“Wait,” you said, not quite holding back your laughter. “You- you want to bang an alien!”

“That’s not-!” He jolted to his feet so suddenly that you were sent toppling to the ground. It didn’t hurt, and you popped up a moment later. “I didn’t- I was just saying some people might want to, I’ve heard there are communities that find that kind of thing appealing, so-”

“You wouldn’t get so flustered if it was just something somebody else did,” you pointed out. “Let me guess: you know about those communities because you’re in them?”

He stared at you for a moment longer, then seemed to crumple in on himself. “I am so sorry. I- it’s not something- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I swear, I don’t expect anything, I was just- just-” He covered his face with his hands, his forelegs buckling like he was about to drop into a bow. “I know this is probably awkward for you, but I swear, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Ohhh my god.” You covered your mouth with a hand, but it couldn’t quite disguise your laughter. “You’re kidding. You actually want to, uh. You know. Get with me?”

“No! That’s not- I swear, it was never my intention! I- It was something that got me interested in being a xenobiologist, but I would never, ever try to- I’m so sorry.” He looked perfectly miserable, so much so that you took a little pity on him.

“What are you apologizing for? You haven’t done anything wrong,” you said.

“But I don’t want you to think that I was only doing that so you would like me,” he said, miserable. “I was being honest before, when I said I didn’t come with you for any ulterior motives. I mean, I am fascinated by aliens in general, and the first sophont alien is a big discovery, but also…” He trails off. “I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe my, er, fascination with aliens did help, in that it helped me see you more like a person than I think some of the others do. But I swear, I was never trying to get you in my debt or to… seduce you.”

“I’ll be honest,” you said. “You don’t come across as someone who really ‘seduces’ others.”

That was toeing dangerously close to an insult, but he took it in good humor. “Ah, well, no. I don’t have much experience in that department.” He took a tentative step back toward you. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were upset, you know. It must seem like I’ve been your helper under false pretenses.”

“Not really. I don’t think you’re that good at being subtle or manipulative,” you said.

“I could be,” he offered. “You wouldn’t know it if I really was.”

“I suppose not. But I’m gonna trust you. You’ve been pretty good to me all this time, and I’ve never felt uncomfortable or unsafe around you. I definitely trust you more than any other centaurs I’ve met.” Grove-peace came back to your side and you rested a hand comfortably on his side, where his torso met the more horse-like portion of his body. “You’re a good person, you know?”

“I’m grateful you think that way,” Grove-peace said. “I’ll try to make sure I can live up to that.”

You huffed out a gentle sigh. “We should probably be getting back, shouldn’t we?”

“Probably,” Grove-peace agreed, though he didn’t move at all. “Are you, uh. Feeling any better than before?”

You hesitated for a moment, then let out a deep sigh. “Like I said, I’m not sure I’m ever going to feel completely better. But… I think I’m okay right now.” You leaned against him. “Thanks, though.”

“Of course. Always,” he said. “Here, want to get on and ride for the rest of the way?”

“You’re cool with it?” you asked.

“I offered,” he laughed. He knelt and you carefully got on his back before he took off back in the direction of the main building. You leaned against his back, tired, but comfortable in his company.

Months passed. They finished your house. You moved in. It was… nice. It was a big house. They let you grow some Earth plants, provided you grew them in a specific, climate-controlled area and you basically followed hazmat procedures when entering and exiting the area. They even got you a computer that let you access the archives of the computers on the ship, so you could scroll through the instructions and cultural information they had on there. You’d learned more about humans in the time you’d been on an alien planet than in all the time you’d live on Earth. In fairness to you, the ‘everyone is going to die soon’ attitude on Earth hadn’t been conducive to a good learning atmosphere, and there wasn’t a ton else to do now.

Grove-peace had been introducing you to centaur culture too, little by little. You didn’t actually visit the nearby settlement all that often, but when you did, he was there as your guide, pointing out little aspects of their world to you. There were a lot of similarities between them and humans. Centaurs held festivals, celebrated art, had restaurants ranging from fine dining to fast food, and had streets lined with shops to buy things you needed and things you really didn’t But there were some weird aspects, too- their music was weird and discordant, and they could apparently see a slightly different color spectrum from you, so some of their art looked weird, and you couldn’t eat most of their food because at least three of the most common stapes of centaur food were either undigestible to you or gave you allergic reactions.

That said, there wasn’t much of a reason to go into town much. But you did. Because Grove-peace liked walking with you and you liked walking with him.

Most of your time was spent with him, really. To the extent that, one day, you leaned over the arm of your couch to where he was seated on the floor next to you and asked, “Do you wan to move in with me?”

He blinked at you. “What?”

“I mean, you’re always here already. Why not?” You finished off the little bracelet you’d been weaving around your fingers and held it out to him. “Here.”

He allowed you to slide it onto his wrist. It was a friendship bracelet you’d learned to make when you were little, but bringing in some centaur styles of design. Grove-peace twisted it around his wrist, a happy expression on his face.

“I’m going to have to ask, but…” He glanced at your face and trailed off. Something softer and gentler crossed his face. “But I don’t think I care that much what they say. I’ll be here anyway.”

You grinned and passed your hand over his head. He leaned into your touch, expression peaceful. “Hey. Grove-peace?”

He didn’t say anything. You nudged him. “Grove-peace? Are you paying attention to me?”

“Hm?” He blinked at you. “Oh, you were talking to me?”

“Yeah. Of course. Did you forget your own name?”

He rumbled his laughter. “Ah. Well, that’s not technically my name.”

“What?” You sat up sharply. “What do you mean? Have I been calling you a nickname?”

“Of sorts, I suppose. My name means grove-peace. Or, I think a more accurate translation would be ‘peaceful grove’ but it’s the same thing, really. The translators automatically try to translate all words, so if a name has a meaning, it’ll try to translate the meaning.”

“Then what’s your real name?” you asked.

“If I say it, the translator will just translate it,” he pointed out. “But… Here.” He took one of your hands in his and brought it down to his chest.

The rumbling and clicking started up again, vibrating up through your fingers as he said his name. The translator near your ear said “Grove-peace,” but you were more focused on the feeling beneath your fingers.

“You can keep calling me Grove-peace, of course,” he said. Hour hand was still on his chest, his fingers tracing patterns along the back of it.

“If the translators work that way, does my name get translated too?” you asked.

“Sort of. The translations come from all the onboard computers on your ship and there weren’t many name translations, but none of us can really say your name very well, so you do have a sort of nickname.” He shifted, a little embarrassed. “I’m the one who gave it to you, right after you woke up.”

“And the nickname is?” you pressed when he didn’t say anything else. He looked rather embarrassed, but tightened his fingers on yours as he kept your hand on his chest.

The rumbling started up again, and the translator near your head chirped out “Star survivor.”

“It comes from an old story,” he continued. “There were many more stars, once, but a tragedy happened and most of them died. The last star, our sun, eventually managed to have its children, both the ones we see in the sky and the ones on our original homeworld. They say the stars we live beneath now are our siblings, in a way.” He flicked his ears in a centaur shrug. “I thought it was fitting.”

You put your hand over his, tracing your thumb along the back of his hand. “I like it.”

He leaned against you for a moment. “Have you checked the reports from the ship lately?”

Not The Ship, but the ship sent to find it- there’s no other ship he would be referencing. “Yeah. Still no updates. It’s only been a few months. You said it could be years before anything comes of it.”

“Yeah. Probably,” he agreed. You felt a bit chilled by it. Likely the only human around for years, if not forever.

But Grove-peace was warm and holding you. And you, despite the sadness that always sat in your chest, were calm and at peace.

And that was okay.

#exophilia #original writing #alien boyfriend #alien partner #ocxoc #reader insert #male monster #monster lover #monster romance

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