#xeno writes

[codenamehazard]

.:Crash Cart:.

Chapter 26: Crash Cart

Hey guys! You're in for a really special treat for this chapter! Gonna meet some new faces, some of them might look a little familiar from a different path walked.

Big thanks to @rogueshadeaux! You'll understand why when you read the chapter. ;)

Without further delay, Let's jump in!

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*HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK*

The sound of the HEMTT’s horn blares through the Convoy as Dove lead-foots it through this circus of a city, I’m assuming to find a hospital. A sharp turn nearly sends me to the floor along with some plants. Goddamn it! Kid’s driving like an absolute moron! Another turn and another jostle almost sends me careening into Kestrel as she gets on the radio mounted to the wall. 

“Caper to Base, Caper to Base!” Kestrel barks into the radio. “Get a trauma team ready outside of Mercy Medical! We’re coming in hot and we have a live one! Over!” There is some chatter over the line that I could barely hear, but Kestrel could. “Yes, get Bear and get the twins! It’s Code Red urgent. Over!”

I gawk at the Gunsmith as she ends the communication and relays something to the panicking bird up-front. My head is full of questions; of who this “Bear” is and who the “twins” are. Though I have to admit, I’m impressed with Kestrel’s leadership.

I can’t help but to wonder, with how Kestrel handled everything, I’m genuinely surprised that she’s not the leader. Why isn’t she? I know that with our past, I’ve seen how nasty and vicious she could be, but I’m someone she hates, so she has no loyalty to me. With her team, however, she’s as loyal as they come. Ready to go to bat when they’re threatened, even standing up to me, the Beast, when I started verbally going after Mako… Are there some other personality traits that hinder her that I haven’t seen or is this a personal choice?

Perhaps… Is there something that we both share in common?

A sudden turn nearly makes me tumble into Kestrel and Mako as the dodo bird driving skids to a halt. I wanna yell at the idiot, but with the frenetic energy buzzing in the air, I decide against it. Kid’s spooked enough, not gonna add to it. Though I will give him a good zap later for the dumbass driving.

Mako and Kestrel quickly open the door as Pangolin’s voice begins to rise from a pitiful whimper to a scream. Damnit! The pain meds are wearing off and it won’t be long until he’s thrashing again! Thankfully I can see we stopped in front of a hospital and there’s a response team outside with a stretcher at the ready when the doors are open. I help Mako get the Brick Spartan off of the cot to transfer him, Dove joining in later after he puts the HEMTT in park. With Pangolin secured, we rush inside.

“Where are they?” I hear the Gunsmith bark out as she rushes to the head nurse. “Where’s Sbiaw and Ḱaʔk̓aʔ?!” I had to steel myself as to not guffaw at the nonsense that just tumbled out of Kes’ mouth. Sbee-yaw?? Ca-ca???? The fuck kind of callsigns are those?! Especially the second one, what brain-dead dumbass uses the Spanish word for “shit” as a callsign?! I can feel my mind wanting to continue on that train of thought, but a bellow quickly derails it.

“OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY, I NEED TO GET TO MY SON!!!!”

I turn my head to see, but I’m quickly yanked away by Kestrel and Mako. I’m about to give them hell for touching me without permission, but when I see what’s barreling down the hallways, I understand quickly why.

An absolute Amazoness of a woman, 7’0” tall, blazing red hair and a bear mask on her face, is charging down the hall like a rampaging bull, knocking away anything blocking her straight-shot path to us, specifically to Pangolin. As much as I hate to admit it, if I hadn’t been pulled out of the way, that woman would have sent me flying.

Behind the woman, looking tiny compared to her, were two individuals rushing to keep up with the rampaging mother. A man with brown hair that almost has a metallic shine to it and seafoam eyes and a woman with black hair and brown eyes, both of them equally focused on getting to the Spartan as well.

Soon, all hell breaks loose as soon as Pangolin starts screaming in pain. The meds must have worn off. The man with the shiny hair turns his arms from flesh to steel with a thought and helps Bear with holding the howling man down, the metal conduit using rebar to make restraints to keep Pangolin from thrashing and hitting someone. The black-haired woman walks up to Kestrel and starts talking to her, questioning her about “What the fuck has gotten into Pangolin??” What they were saying, I couldn’t hear clearly over the chaos, but I know as soon as Kestrel mentions “blink scorpions” the woman’s face went pale.

“Everyone! Get Pangolin in the Poison Ward asap!!” The woman shouts in alarm. “Double time it! If we don’t get antivenom and anti-corrodium compounds in him soon, he’s going to be in deep shit!!” Anti-corrodi-wha?! What does that even mean?! First we get stupid names and now this?! What in the hell is happening??? I don’t get any time to think about it before everyone scrambles as fast as they can without knocking over the stretcher. I can feel the beginnings of a cold sweat form as a foggy memory slips in from the mental maelstrom, the memory of myself being on a stretcher with the same chaotic energy around me before everything went black.

What happens next blurs together, adrenaline and chaos making everything hazy. A flurry of panicking feet with Bear leading the charge and clearing the way while everyone else, me included, rush the stretcher down the hall.

We’re about to get to the door, but the black-haired woman stops us. Dove gives her a dismayed look

“What the hell, Crow?!” He blurts out as the medical staff take Pangolin into the room.

“Don’t start with me, Dove.” The woman, Crow, warns the Get-Away. “You know the rules, we can’t have too many people in the room right now. Brent’s allowed in there because he’s going to help keep Pangolin under control until we can get his pain managed and the detox procedure started. Bear’s allowed in because she’s his mother.”

“But I’m his brother and she’s my mother too!” Dove protests as he is about to step forward, but Kestrel puts her hand on his shoulder.

“Drop it, Dove.” The Gunsmith states firmly. “I know you’re worried about Pango, but Crow’s right. Right now, it’s best for there to be as few bodies as possible.”

“But mom-”

“- Can help Coyote with controlling Pangolin if he starts wigging out.” The Gunsmith interrupts. “Look, let’s not give Crow and the staff grief and wait out with everyone. When Pango’s stable, then we can visit.” I can see Dove giving Kestrel a heated glare, but he sighs with an “alright, fine.”

“I’ll keep you all updated.” Crow assures Dove before she turns to look at me with a curious, yet cautious look. I don’t pay her much mind, I’m too focused on Kestrel and Dove to really notice the funny look.

With Dove finally convinced, we head off out to one of the waiting rooms. I rub my temples as I hear my tinnitus start setting in and a headache rearing its ugly head. I could use a stiff drink.

Actually, scratch that. I need some warm water and a nap.

#infamous #infamous 2 #cole macgrath #demon of empire city #infamous: no man's land #xeno writes #caper #blast shard caper #pangolin #dove #Mako #Brent Rowland #Jean Rowland #Special thanks to RogueShaduex again for letting me borrow her babies #They'll have lots of fun with my idiots. #And I hope you will be sleeping better now knowing that your husband's in good hands now.

[squid-seraph]

some hcs and whatnot for the creechures,,, I might change it later to add stuff but im pretty content with this

#splatoon #hc stuff #xeno octoling #xeno inkling #sorry theyre naked for this ill draw them with clothes promise #if u cant read my hand writing im sorry #im not a fancy person we only scribble shit here #n also i know they still look human-y but im a coward this is as far as i can go #seraphim doodles

[wretchedelights2]

Party banter I got after choosing Marazhai over Yrliet in the jealousy scene. I feel like the first one should probably have come before, but also seeing them together made the second one hurt even more.

Yrliet's romance has so much potential to just be... deeply tragic. I feel like she probably didn't really grasp the depths of her feelings for the RT until it was too late. And RT left her for nothing less than a depraved homicidal maniac.

Like imagine being Yrliet, and, against all odds, meeting this incredible mon-keigh. No, not mon-keigh - your elantach, who's soul is just so good and so pure, in a way you never thought was possible for a human. Imagine forging a deep bond with the RT despite your best efforts. A bond that was tried and tested through the events of Commoragh, but only grew stronger in the end. Strong enough to lead to the shattering of your soulstone.

And then, Marazhai comes in to the picture. You watch as his sinister influence slowly changes your elantach. Your dark kin whispers in the RTs ear, swaying them to commit acts of depravity that leave a stain on their once pure soul. There's nothing you can do but watch their downfall. And then one day, the the RT is asked to make a choice, and chooses Marazhai and his sick whims over your bond of souls. Leaving you with nothing but your broken soulstone and your broken heart.

It would seem that the elantach was just as weak and corruptible as any other mon-keigh, in the end.

#man I feel like this could be material for a great fanfic #I love a good corruption arc #too bad I suck at writing haha #why can't I just have both my xenos I love them so much #rogue trader crpg #rogue trader #marazhai aezyrraesh #yrliet lanaevyss #marazhai #yrliet #rogue trader spoilers

[riddlemethisjeremy]

Jeremy, what do humans normally eat?

Jeremy wasn't entirely sure how long it had been since he'd seen his home planet, but he was beginning to realise he'd hopped headfirst into this adventure with no preparation and he was really wishing he'd grabbed a couple of the cans of tinned food that were in the safe room he'd holed up in. He sighed heavily, wandering the halls of the spaceship in search of his new friend.

Xeno suddenly appeared through a doorway, which scared the crap out of him. The fact that Xeno's arms were literally massive knives was vaguely off-putting after all.

"Is everything alright, Jeremy?" He asked, cocking his head curiously.

Jeremy nodded, taking an involuntary step back, "Yeah, just... Kinda hungry?"

"Oh!" Xeno exclaimed, nodding, "Come, the IceBox is this way!"

Jeremy perked up a little, following Xeno as he led him to the "IceBox". They came to a stop in front of a clear white wall, which Xeno pressed with one of his hooves. It opened out slowly to show a myriad of strangely shaped fruit ranging in many interesting colours that sent off alarm bells in Jeremy's brain.

"I... don't think I can eat that." Jeremy laughed uncomfortably, "Sorry."

Xeno frowned, glancing down at the box of fruit and then back at Jeremy, "You don't eat glorzmoberries?"

"Earth doesn't have... glor-glorsmo-?"

"Glorzmoberries."

"Right," Jeremy sighed softly, "Uh. Do you have anything else?"

"Well, Jeremy, what do you humans eat?" He asked, cocking his head. It seemed that this motion was fairly similar to an eyebrow raise.

Jeremy shrugged, "Lots of things, I guess. It'd take a while to list it."

Xeno tapped his knife hand patiently, "What do you eat, Jeremy?"

Jeremy thought about this for a second, "I could really go for a grilled cheese sandwich right now."

#alien meta #humans are space orcs #original characters #original writing #narrator speaks #xeno speaks #jeremy speaks #answering asks

[ultimadoka]

Catpunlexic

[PT: Catpunlexic /end PT]

Catpunlexic is a -lexic gender connected to words with cat-based puns, such as "meowdy", "purrfect", "cat-astrophe", or "pawsitive"! Can be related to a typing quirk but doesn't have to be.

This gender can be described as silly, fun, and pawsitively clawsome!

The cat emblem, taken from the catgender flag, is orange due to orange cats being considered some of the silliest!

#no spoons for image id #if anyone would like to write one i will gladly add it! #mogai #xenogender #xenogender coining #mogai coining #mogai safe #mogai gender #catgender #lexic gender #xenogender positivity #needs id #catpunlexic #gender stuff #my xenos

[hareofhrair]

A Shadow In The Room - Shadow Creature x Fem OC 2POV

Reposting some of my old terato/xeno stories from back before the porn ban! This was a request for a shadow person boyfriend. eh, it's alright.

You've had a long day at work, but your shadow person boyfriend is there to make you feel better.

You can find more of my work on my Patreon!

Tags and Content Warnings: Established Relationship, Consensual, Shadow Person, m/f

You knew he’d be there the minute you shouldered the door open, exhausted from work and dragging your feet. The moment you crossed the threshold your skin prickled and the scent of damp earth and cool water filled your nose. There was a kind of chill in the air that followed him, a scent like darkness and rotting leaves. You’d found him out in the deep woods and no matter where he went now the air of the forest at night followed him.

Sure enough, you’d barely let the door close fully behind you before you felt his arms close around you from behind, pulling you against his broad, solid chest. You felt his lips, then his teeth at your throat, and his hands over your stomach, wrinkling the fabric of your work shirt. His skin was cold, his teeth sharp. His hands were deep, midnight blue and shaped like no human who’d ever lived, long and curved like dark talons. That was the most you ever saw of him. He was always behind you, that living shadow. You saw glimpses, glowing eyes in the dark, horns sometimes- but never more, not even after all the time you’d been together.

You weren’t sure if you could rightly call it a relationship. Certainly, he had his way with you often enough. You could feel him now, hard already against you, grinding into your backside. But you knew so little about him. You stumbled across him that night in the woods and made a joke in a shaking voice because you’d never had the most rational responses to fear. He’d laughed, and you’d kept talking because you thought it was all that was keeping you alive. He’d let you go, and a week later he’d been in your kitchen, wanting to talk again. And gradually, over these periodical visits, you’d stopped being afraid, realizing he was just bored or lonely, not there to kill you. And after a while he’d started talking back, telling you stories about years in the shadows, a strange life you couldn’t quite conceive of. He never gave you the full story, just bits and pieces, like your glimpses of his appearance. You weren’t sure if he didn’t trust you or if remaining always obscured was a condition of his existence. Both seemed equally possible.

Eventually, one lonely night, he’d touched you and your relationship had taken this unusual turn. You were hardly complaining. Except that now he was pulling away, leaving your skin even colder than his chilly touch. You knew better than to turn back to look at him. He’d know you were pouting without you having to. You felt the ghost of his kiss on the back of your neck.

“Go and bathe,” he said. “The outside world clings to you. I want to smell your skin.”

You laugh. It seems like you’ve been laughing around him since the beginning.

“I would be in there already if you hadn’t decided to jump me at the door,” you said, and you feel his hands on you again, squeezing your backside.

“But then I would not have been able to properly impress on you that you should hurry.”

You laughed again and slipped away from him, hurrying towards the shower. You washed quickly, your thoughts preoccupied with the memory of his hands on you. You were sure he’d be in here with you if he could, but he hated the bathroom. The lights were too bright and he despised mirrors. So you rushed, the exhaustion of the workday forgotten. His visits had been rare these past few months. You’d been tied up at work and he was always preoccupied around this time of year when “the burden of the ancient weird is commended once again upon my shoulders,” or so he said, whatever that meant. His language tended to get increasingly formal and archaic when he was being evasive. Regardless, it had been more than a week and you were eager to feel his touch again.

You scrubbed at your hair with a towel quickly, considered taking a moment to put it up or throw on some eyeliner. But you knew he wouldn’t care. Appearances were beneath his concern. It was a relief sometimes to remember that he would never judge you for not caring enough to shave your legs or enjoying cupcakes more than jogging.

You forwent clothes entirely and dropped your towel at the bathroom door, barely taking two steps towards the bed before he was behind you, sweeping you off your feet in a flurry of shadows. You felt the chill of him against your back as your face met the cool sheets of your bed. His kisses, chilly and sharp with the scrape of his teeth, roll down your spine like a shiver. His hand is on the back of your head, and another on your hip, keeping you in the position he likes best. There are other hands, because of course he has others, on your thighs, your wrists and ankles, running nails over your ribs. He only seems to have one mouth from what you can tell however, and mores the pity, because it’s slipped over the curve of your ass now to press cold against your burning lips. His tongue slips through your folds like a chip of ice and makes you gasp for more than one reason. It’s a good thing you always enjoyed temperature play. He can’t help being cold as a winter night. He says, in his sentimental moments, that you melt him.

You grip the sheets and muffle your moans as he teases you, icy tongue and cold fingers working you up to the edge of what you can stand. When he feels you shaking one of his hands takes your throat and pulls your head back so that he can hear your hoarse cries as he finishes you. His cool hands rub circles over your shoulders and thighs as you come down, head spinning. He’s patient as the night, and he waits until your breathing evens and you begin rocking back into his touch before you feel him loom over you.

He slides against your lips, cold and stark against your heat. For a moment he only rolls against you, making you wait, until you’re almost desperate to feel him inside you. When at last he presses in, he’s so cold it almost burns, but you love it. He cools your fever as he spreads you open with a cock that is never quite the same size or shape, that changes every time you’re distracted by his hand on your clit or his lips on your throat.

It’s frantic at first, as it usually is. He seems to have a hard time holding back when he first gets inside you, and the rapid, pounding pace quickly dissolves any self-control you had either. But just when you think you’re close to your limit, he pulls back. His movements slow, his once wild thrusts becoming long, lingering slides, grinding deep within you, taking his time, drawing it out. You love this part the most, when he’s tender with you, even though you know it’s not in his nature. You ache, desperate to return to the peak you’d so nearly achieved, but you’d never rush him, not when he’s laying cold kisses on your neck and rolling his hips against you that way, more hands than you can keep track of drawing soothing circles over your skin. When he takes you like this, it feels like you’re coming apart at the seams, just puzzle pieces in his hands. You love him in these moments, though you’ve never said the words. Neither has he, though you suspect sometimes. You think he knows, despite your silence. You hope he knows.

He begins to pick up speed again, though he remains gentle. He’s close, and you shake, tightening around him. Suddenly, you feel a cool touch over your eyes. You’d had them closed anyway, but now you sense only darkness beyond your closed lids. You feel his hand on your hip, turning you over. You gasp, reach out to stop him. Visions of Cupid and Psyche come to mind. You fear seeing him, not because of his appearance, but because not seeing him has become some kind of nebulous rule of this arrangement and you fear breaking it means losing him.

But the cool hand remains over your eyes, blinding you. He turns you on to your back and you feel suddenly exposed in this position, vulnerable, your feelings and insecurities bared to him. He kisses you, deeply and properly. You don’t think he’s ever kissed you on the mouth before. You accept his kisses with the fervor of a worshiper and feel him slide back into you, rocking into you with quick, short strokes while you discover the cool darkness of his mouth, the icy clarity of his tongue. Another tiny fragment of him, a gift. You remember the Blind Men and the Elephant, putting together the shape of a living thing from small pieces. Your head is full of stories tonight. Full of him. You don’t mind if you never see all of him at once. Everything he’s willing to give you is more than enough.

You feel him pulse and swell within you and you wrap your arms around something like shoulders, press your face to something like his chest, feel fur against your cheek and scales under your fingers and feathers brushing the trembling skin of your stomach. The disparate pieces of him seem further apart than ever. Have you done this to him? Scrambled him this way? You don’t think he minds. He moves faster, pulling your mind back to the present as he squeezes your hips and buries himself deep within you. You feel a coldness like ice spill within you and you shiver and smile. He stays within you, rubbing his thumb over your clit, until he feels you tighten around him again and tip over the precipice of your own orgasm. Your darkened vision goes briefly white as you arch up into his touch and come down shaking and dizzy.

He doesn’t usually linger long beside you in bed, though he often waits just beyond it, sharing idle conversation while you recover if not his touch. But tonight when he pulls away from you, what he left inside you becoming frost on your thighs and melting away, he lays down beside you. You roll onto your side and he presses into your back, his favorite place. His arm around you is cold, but all you feel is warmth.

“Did you know I used to be afraid of the dark,” you said, laying your hand over his. “When I was little. It terrified me not to know what might be there in the room with me.”

“And now?” he asks, his grip loosening a little, as though afraid he is about to have to let go.

“Now?” You consider your words carefully for a moment, but his chest against your back makes you feel bold. “Now, if you asked me to, I might blind myself to be with you.”

He holds you tighter, and for a moment you think you might feel the whole of him pressed against you. Not just the part touching your back, but far beyond it, more than your eyes would ever be able to understand. He’s as vast and unknowable as a forest from the dawn of history, where some ancestor of yours might have stood on the edges, looking into that deep unfathomable darkness. What might you have felt, looking at an ocean of trees that have been growing since before your earliest ancestors walked the earth? Since the moments when what we might tentatively call a tree first came into existence? The first forest, untouched. That’s what he is to you. The spirit of that lost place, untouched by time.

“You would regret it,” he says. “The novelty would wither with time and you would resent me for taking you from the light. In the darkness, you would only see all the other lives you might have lived.”

“Maybe,” you agree. “I think that happens to everyone eventually, though. I think that’s just getting older. Working through it is part of being alive.”

“It’s not a part I’m familiar with,” he confesses.

“Don’t worry,” you reassure him, and bring his hand to your lips to kiss the backs of his cold black fingers. “We have all the time in the world.”

#my writing #terato #xeno #shadow person #monster x reader #monster x human #monster x you #monster x female #monster romance #monster lover #monster fucker

[diamondsheep]

Ok, here me out, like a coffee shop au with Stanley as the worker flirting with Xeno the customer handing him his order as they hold up the line. Sketch.

Hiii Anon !!!! Here is your XenoStan request 😄✨

#stan is about to write his number on Xeno's cup 👀✨ hehehe #xenostan #dr xeno #stanley snyder #dr stone #dr stone fanart #my drawings #traditional art #xeno wingfield #diamondsheep art #hehe i liked this grey sketch... i might sketch more with graphite pencils 🤔

[cosmictapestry]

A48? 👉👈

A48. tentacles

hi sorry it's so lonf and that there are feelings .

morphienne prompt list + fills here

Lucienne, sorting through some new additions to the library, opens to the middle of a newly drafted graphic novel—and promptly shuts it, surveys her surroundings—and then opens it again.

It is always gratifying to see how many mortal desires can only be captured in the imagination, satisfaction only met in dreams. Sexual fantasies are no exception. Still, she would rather not be seen reading pornography on the job.

The woman in the story is a skinny little white thing, drawn with an exaggerated delicacy that accentuates the obscenity of the slimy, muscular tendrils that invade her orifices. Her expression is twisted in bliss, stretched as it is around the tendril plundering her mouth. Lucienne thinks the whole ordeal looks grotesque. Then she thinks it's rather interesting.

She stares for longer than is strictly necessary. The image on the page shifts and resizes, revisions that haven't been made yet, blurry in the way of unfinished things. The following pages are more of the same, the girl suspended in the air, pinned to the ground, braced against a wall, helpless and beholden to the tendrils' whims. It is very interesting.

Interesting enough that when Lucienne feels Lord Morpheus sweep into the library, she does not try to hide her discovery. Instead she holds it up higher, knowing that in a second's time he will be looking over her shoulder to see what's so captured her attention. Indeed, his shadow falls over the page not a moment later.

He says nothing while she flips through, pausing on a particular image of the tendrils retreating and leaving one to flick gently at the woman's clitoris while she trembles and spasms. The tenderness of it is striking. Lord Morpheus gives a thoughtful hum. "Bipedal humanoids rarely take interest in body plans different from their own," he says. "It appears humans are becoming lenient. Moreso than most of their predecessors."

"Surely you've seen as much in their dreams," Lucienne murmurs, tracing the length of one tendril with her thumb.

"Of course. But to imagine and to produce art are very different things," Lord Morpheus steps out from behind her, looking now at the rest of the bookshelf where, presumably, they'd find more of this content.

Lucienne glances at him without turning her head. "Have you known many bipedal humanoids with such interests?"

"Not personally, no," he says, and his eyes wander back to the open graphic novel.

That seems a shame, to have the King of Dreams as a lover and not explore all the possibility he contains. Of course, knowing him, there's every chance that he would find something in that request to hurt his pride or otherwise make him uncomfortable. He clears his throat. "And. Are you. Interested. In such things?"

Lucienne bites her lip to stop herself from grinning and possibly scaring him away. His request that he could not voice. That makes perfect sense, too. "I cannot say I've ever indulged in this act, in particular." The nature of soft spaces in the Dreaming, and indeed in her own quarters, means that raw dreamstuff is at the command of the imagination. And there have been many an attractive shape to fall in and out of style in the universe. "But I am interested."

She makes him sweat, just a little. He stands there and shifts and looks at the shelf, then back at the book, and not at her at all. "With me?" he asks, finally, in a tiny voice.

The grin breaks onto her face despite her best efforts. "Yes, with you, silly man," Lucienne puts her hand to his sleeve, stretches up to kiss his reddened cheek, which he grunts and huffs about. "Only your slimy tentacles will do."

His noise wrinkles; she kisses it, too. "They need not be slimy," he protests. "And those are tendrils, not tentacles, besides."

She laughs and waves him off with a gentle swat on his arm and a tap on his arse, too, for good measure, and when he disappears from view it's with an amused glare.

Their night begins normally, with Lord Morpheus stepping into their room and Lucienne already there, meeting him with slow kisses to coax out the worries he's sure to have let settle in.

The room looks much the same as usual, which she wonders about until he pulls back enough to speak. "I was thinking. Perhaps. They might come from under the bed," he says. His gaze flickers across her face nervously. "If you are comfortable with that. We might change the narrative from there."

Lucienne pauses heavily. She cards her hand through the hair at his nape. "Why would I not be comfortable?" She has seen everything there is to see in all of time and space. Though that matters little in the grand scheme of things. Regardless, she does not scare easily.

"I think I will enjoy this immensely," Lord Morpheus says, and the predictability of it threatens Lucienne's careful neutrality with compassionate-but-agonized exhaustion. He is asking, as he often does, if she is sure. "And the thought that I might not be. Suitably attentive. Is frightening."

Lucienne hums, plays with his hair, aches for him. He is never less than exactly as attentive as she wants him to be. But, oh, who knows what might happen, if he feels too good, if he likes it too much. "Have you experience with similar practices?"

"I do predate bilateral symmetry," he says, faux-offended. He tips his head forward to avoid her eyes and arch his neck into her hand. He enjoys her attention for a long moment before he speaks again. "I remember. How it felt. To be so close."

Her thumb traces his jaw, nail digging soft into the clenched hinge until he relaxes. "I am not afraid of you enjoying yourself," she tells him. Her lord's shoulders lift on a sigh, because he thinks that isn't what he's talking about. "I've known you by every name, and I'd know you by every shape." She brushes under his eye to feel the flutter of his lashes, then lifts his face to hers. "And I would welcome you as close as you can get."

He's moaning before he's kissing her, feverish hunger, like the limitations of finite-limbedness are only frustrating now in anticipation of something more. He wastes little time with her clothing, taking slow, significant care only in sliding down her knickers, gripping her under the thighs and lifting her, bracing her on his hips with his bulge grinding into her. He doesn't stop kissing her while he walks them to the bed, and she pants to keep up, tongue lolling lazily with his, the friction on her clit honey-sweet and rough until it is gone altogether.

Lord Morpheus lays her down in the sheets, bare and hazy and wanting, and when he retreats entirely to sit at the foot of the bed he leaves her skin buzzing. Draped in soft black, one knee drawn up to his chest, gaze unwavering, he is completely still, taking in the image of her, an offering. "I'm right here," he tells her. She knows he is. His hands are clasped in full view and she feels him touch her.

She turns her head to see the expansion of her lord's material aspect. The width of an inkpot, warm and firm, slippery-wet, soft as velvet, a slip of darkness wraps her wrist. From there it coils up, its course seemingly predetermined, to slide smokelike between her fingers and coil in the palm of her hand. Lucienne stares at it, matte black muscular pulse of shadow, and she notes that it is shivering.

Lucienne sits up, the tendril thrumming in her hand. Its tapered head lifts, seeking, reaching for warmth. With her other hand she strokes along its length, down to where it disappears over the edge of the bed. She looks up when she hears her lord's breath catch. "How sensitive is it?"

He swallows and twitches and pulls his robe closer around himself. "It is. Me," he mumbles. That is the encouragement she needs to lean forward, lips softly parted, and kiss the top of the tendril's head. A shiver runs through him. Gently she draws the tip into her mouth.

Lord Morpheus gasps and rocks and whispers her name. The tendril pulses hot in her mouth and squirms deeper like it has no choice. It is silken-soft, sweet-tasting, muscular and firm on her tongue. It is not thick enough to fill her mouth but it makes a valiant effort, folding on itself, trying to stuff its way in. She pushes forward, makes herself gag on it. He sobs out and pulls back. "Lucienne," he gasps.

Lucienne waits, the tip of the tendril resting on her tongue, and she watches him. He is sweating already, and he pulls his robe away, leaving him in soft shirt and trousers that have begun to stick. He pushes one hand back through his hair while he catches his breath. "Can I—more?"

Her heart soaring, her core aching, she takes him back into her mouth. His head tips back, throat bobbing on a broken groan. Lucienne is too busy watching a bead of sweat course down his neck to notice a second tendril appear until she feels it slip, thick and supple, under her breast. It slicks her skin, touches the other breast, tweaks the nipple, wraps it and pulls.

Lucienne arches her chest into the touch, forces the tendril in her mouth deeper. Wet heat grips her left ankle. She suckles on the length in her mouth—it's getting thicker, swelling—and it calms her while a matching shadow takes her right ankle. Her legs are drawn apart, slowly, and she watches her lord's face, watches the way his nostrils flare when she is spread for him.

Her wrists are grabbed next. Sweetly she is guided back in the sheets, laid out and spread open, squeezed in meaty rhythmic pulses, slick pulses and caresses on her breasts and in her mouth and all across her prickling skin. She groans with her mouth stuffed full and shakes when she feels a push at her core.

The tendrils feel so strong, unshakeable, and the one that teases her folds is no exception. Smearing slickness, heat and pressure, maddening soft texture so tender and teasing, playing, thrusting between her lips, flicking her clit. It's thinner than the ones that tie her down, and as it slips inside her, it feels so nerve-shatteringly smooth and good that her eyes roll.

She's choking, drooling, and she feels—a second tendril, twining with the one inside her, entering her, dragging, throbbing, until she is full, strung through on either end, stretched all around him. He is whispering, now, asking her—"can I lift you? Please, can I—" and she can do nothing but moan and scream yes through their dreamscape.

More tendrils, thicker ones, embracing her waist and upper arms and thighs, lifting her up off the bed, sitting her up in the air. More tendrils stroking her all over, a thin one playing with her clit, another sliding in the cleft of her arse, another between her breasts, leaving her skin shining. Her lord watches. Dream-gravity forces her down on the entwined tendrils and she clenches and comes on them until she cannot tell whose pulse she is feeling.

Still reeling, she is maneuvered above the bed, stretched out, wrists lifted above her head. All she can hear are her own stricken sounds and wet slipping and his ragged, desperate breath. A new, thin tendril plucks at her arsehole, rubs at it, worms its way inside. Her legs spread and twitching, she cannot even struggle to get more contact.

He pulls an orgasm from her like that, with sharp insistent thrusts, until she squeezes hard enough to almost force him out. Then she is horizontal, the thick tendrils binding her arms to her sides, her arse spread, and then she is upside-down, one leg dangling helplessly, and then, eventually, at some point, she is back on the bed.

Lucienne gasps and heaves and the tendril in her mouth slips from her. She feels the graze of soft fabric, not so different from living shadow, as her lord climbs atop her and kisses her shocked-open mouth. He pants and quivers and ruts against her inner thigh. "Please," he gasps, shoving his trousers down, heedless of the copious mess inside, smeared as it is over his cock and thighs. "Please, Lucienne, can I—"

He's wetter than his tendrils are, nudging at her clit, mouthing at her jaw. She's possibly never seen him so desperate. She is exhausted. With the last of her strength she reaches down with a newly freed hand and touches him. His hips jump and stutter and he sobs into her neck when she guides him in alongside the tendrils already inside her.

The stretch is immense. It makes her cry. Overwhelmed, stricken, shocked, she arches her back, takes him, barely, speared impossibly. She comes when he bottoms out. He does, too, when she spasms and grinds him into his own tendrils, squeezes him in soaking heat.

The tendrils do not withdraw. They lie together and pant and shiver and are still. The tendrils disappear entirely, and Lucienne is left loose and open, fluttering around him. "Thank you," Lucienne whispers. She takes his face, pulls him up to kiss away his tears and smooth his fear. "Well done, love, thank you."

#first time writing uhhhhh xeno? terra? whatever. very fun #but um i'll write something serious next unless someomne requests the knotting one hinthinthinthinthinthinthitntthinthtititn #<-said as though there's any telling what i will actually write next . i dont fucking know #the sandman #x #morpheus #dream of the endless #lucid dreaming #morphienne #lucienne the librarian #the sandman fic #minors dni

[aeriona]

Sorry I haven't posted in a while (I've been tired and sad) but I am still indeed working on my xeno-splatoon faux scientific paper!

Also since it's a fancy document I have to use equally fancy language I am so sorry in advance lmao. I'm not exactly sure when I'll make it public, probably once all the art is done and I'm not sure when that'll be-

#I just really like making things realistic even when the creator clearly didn't intend for them to be #Canon Splatoon lore is so absurd and nonsensical I think i deserve a free pass here haha #my art #i guess lol #my writing #splatoon #xeno tag #speculative biology #speculative zoology #splatoon art #xeno inkling #inkling #squid #spec bio #spec evo #spec zoo

[mydetheturk]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Trigun Stampede (Anime 2023), Trigun (Anime & Manga 1995-2008) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Millions Knives/Zazie the Beast (Trigun) Characters: Millions Knives (Trigun), Zazie the Beast (Trigun) Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Xeno, Bugs & Insects, like a biblical plague's worth of worms ok, worm courtship, Mentioned william Conrad, Hive Mind, Plants, Plant Lore (Trigun), Worm Lore, Alien Sex, Fighting, Aliens, there is an offscreen death of a dependent plant, minor forewarning for that Series: Part 6 of Trigun Body Horror Week Summary:

Knives has been curious about the creature that is the Worms since he caused the crash and landed on this planet. It turns out the curiosity is mutual, and he and Zazie can come to a mutually satisfying arrangement.

~~

The first of two fics for day Seven of @organsoutsidelovinglydescribed‘s Body Horror Week! Knives has a lot of problems and Zazie is a filthy enabler and it’s All Good!

Because. Well: what happens when a nuclear reactor made of meat and a bug hivemind get together? this. this is what happens.

THIS Is the fic i’ve been lovingly referring to “a comically biblical plague amount of bugs brings a (fallen) angel of the lord to climax” i gave myself permission to be SO weird with it because neither of them is human and both of them are hiveminds but they’re different KINDS of hiveminds, and. well.

You’ll see.

Knives is curious enough to let Zazie touch as they please, to let the Worms indulge their own curiosity. He's not quite been given his own full permission, though Worms will land on him and buzz and sing and they nestle in his hair and against his hands. Zazie responds to his noises in kind, buzzing wings and chittering mandibles and chattering legs where Knives hums and sings and oscillates to a song that only he can hear. The occasional company is nice when Knives travels alone in the sands. Knowing that Zazie is there helps soothe some sort of ache Knives refuses to acknowledge even exists.

#trigun #trigunbodyhorrorweek #millions knives #zazie the beast #trigun maximum #trigun stampede #bugs #blood #its just like dear god there's a lot of bugs #myde writes #the other fic will probably go up tonight cause i don't have time to finish tagging it this morning #anyway! #enjoy some fucky xeno shit #its like im firing rent lowering gunshots i love it

[codenamehazard]

.:In The Dark of the Night: Part 2:.

[TRIGGER WARNING FOR ARACHNOPHOBIA, OMMETAPHOBIA, TRYPOPHOBIA AND OTHER CREEPY CRAWLIES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!]

Chapter 25: In The Dark of the Night: Part 2

Hey guys, I hope you all had a Happy New Year and I hope I didn't make you all wait too long on a cliffhanger. Things got a little insane between the holidays and life things turning everything upside down for a little bit, but the wait is over and the helicopter has come to free you from the cliffhanger.

Without delay, let's jump in.

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

Panic… Pure panic and pandemonium breaks out as Pangolin falls: screaming, writhing and powerless. A cold sweat mixes with the sparking rain-water on my skin as I see what a single sting did to the Brick Spartan. He’s defenseless to the oncoming swarm.

In his fear, Dove calls forth a massive wind gust to blow the menaces back, protecting his eldest brother from being eaten. Mako rushes over to help the fallen leader as Kestrel fights off more bugs. I can see Dove trying to take the lead, but with how freaked out he is and the fear making his voice crack and squeak, his commands fall upon deaf ears.

Time seems to slow as I watch the once well-oil machine fall to shambles. With Pangolin on the ground howling in pure agony and mutant hellish bedbugs scattering around, the team had no rudder. They were all clueless and damn near helpless.

As I thin the swarm, thoughts rush through my head. A headless team is a dead team. I remember the promise I made to myself as I ran from the army I had once led. Never again would I let shackles hold me back, including the shackles of leadership. If they can’t hack it without my help, then so be it. I could bail and leave them to their fate. Steal a jeep and let them be the distraction. Easy as that.

Then the logical part of my brain kicks that impulse sharply in the head. The Amp is still in shambles and needs to be fixed and the one who’s willing to do that is part of this team. There’s also the fact that… As much as I hate to admit this… I’m starting to grow quite fond of this motley crew of outcasts and it wouldn’t kill me to help them just this–

“ALRIGHT FUCKERS, LISTEN UP!!!” I turn my head sharply as a cross between a metallic boom and a barking command cuts through my thoughts, drawing my eyes to the source of the sound: Kestrel. “The situation’s gone FUBAR, fall back! Mako, get Pangolin into the Medi-Trailer! Dove, get a grip and head to the lead HEMTT, we need to book it and fast!!” I can’t help but to gawk for a split second, both in shock and relief. Well I’ll be damned; for once in my life I don’t have to play babysitter when things went to shit.

I shake my head to get back in the game before I get stung. Kestrel takes charge, getting Mako to focus on Pangolin as she clears a path. I make my way towards the panicking chicken of a Dove who’s still acting like he’s trying to take command, even though Kes gave him his marching orders. With how out of it he is, I’m not surprised he didn’t hear a word she said.

“Dove!” I boom as I grab his shoulders and shake him. Not the best way to handle a kid freaking out, but there’s no time for sensitivities. “Pull yourself together!” The bird stammers nonsense and I bonk him on the forehead with the meat of my palm. He yelps before staring at me with a look that said “what was that for?!” I look him in the eyes. “Good, now that I got your attention. Kestrel gave an order, get to the HEMTT and get ready to floor it. We’re falling back!”

“What about Thom-” He starts to question before I give him a red-eyed glare.

“Don’t worry about him!” I growl, my impatience starting to bleed through. “Mako’s got him covered, now do as you’re told and MOVE YOUR ASS!!!” I watch him stammer out an affirmative before scrambling off to the Convoy. I’m half tempted to give him a zap for good measure, but with the rain and the fact he’s the get-away, I decide against it.

The sound of grunting catches my ears as I turn to see Mako and Kestrel trying to move Pangolin while fending off the scittering hellish things. I quickly run over so I can help Mako.

“You taking over?” Kes questions, I nod in confirmation before we trade places. Oh Jesus Christ, he’s heavy and it doesn’t help he’s still flailing about. Thinking fast, I arc-restrain the writhing spartan. Mako gives me a questioning look, but when I explain it’s to make it easier to carry the giant of a man, she doesn’t argue. Kes provides cover fire before throwing what looks like a blast-shard wired to an explosive away from the convoy.

The shard seems to draw the attention of the giant Hell-Spider, getting her off the trailers and allowing us to get in safely. The sound of an explosion and screaming ring out as we shut the door.

As Mako gets Pangolin stabilized in a transport cot and I release the restraints, Kes gets on the comms and barks a single phrase.

“FLOOR IT!!!”

I can feel the trailer suddenly jerk as the HEMTT takes off, nearly taking all of us to the floor. The screech of the spider returns as she takes notice and gives chase.

The trailer rings out with the sounds of Warped and hellbabies being chucked onto the runaway caravan. A stark reminder that we’re not out of the woods yet. A Blink Scorpion almost slips in, but Kes is quick on the draw.

It's clear that without someone on the outside, the Convoy’s defenseless. With nothing but a quick glance and a nod exchanged between Kestrel and I, we know what needs to be done.

Though the emergency hatch on the top of the trailer, we climb out into the darkness to face the monsters.

The rain hisses and spits into steam on Kestrel’s skin as it makes black and red sparks arc off of mine. Bathing the hellish sight in a blood red hue. The scorpions scitter and screech as they charge towards us. Quick to react, we pop the bugs with slag and bolts, slashing them with blades and claws when they get too close.

As the air fills with soot, sparks and gore, I can see out of the corner of my eye something I hadn’t noticed before when the most that Big Momma would move was when she swung her stony arms around to swat at people who came near. Something that’s now plain as day with her running at ridiculous speeds for a creature her size.

Gaps in the armor where the joints connect.

“Hey Kes!” I call out as I punt one of the stinging cockroaches into another. “Check it! The big bitch actually does have weak spots!” I fire a missile at one of the knee-joints to point it out. The impact on the sinewy flesh causes the monster to scream in pain and slow down some, but with seven more legs moving, the hit only staggered.

“Good eye!” The Gunsmith calls back as she starts to focus fire on the exposed targets. We work together, but with the sheer number of babies the spider-bitch is spitting out, it’s near impossible to do both. These babies have got to go.

“Damnit!” I hiss out as I narrowly avoid getting tagged in the ankle. “There’s too many of these things!”

“No shit, Sherlock!” Kes snips back as she nails one that was leaping towards my head. “This is getting us nowhere and we don’t have the right equipment to kill the mother monster.”

“Got any bright ideas, birdie?” I growl. I see Kestrel look at the Rock-Spider-Thing and I can see the gears turning in her head.

“I might.” She replies. “One of us pops a charge while the other coverfires. It won’t kill her, but it should slow her down and thin out the herd enough to break free.”

“It’s a start, but who’s doing what?” I question. “Because if you haven’t noticed, my powers are as useful as a damn ashtray on a motorcycle against that thing.” I hear Kestrel groan before I pop a bug near her foot.

“I don’t know if mine will be of any use either, but I’ll do it. Cover my ass!” She shouts as she starts to shake her head, eyes glowing iron-hot. Probably trying to fire herself up. I position myself behind her, but give her space so I’m not touching her back.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” I grunt as I launch a few shockwaves to send the horde flying.

The sound of rain sizzling off of her body cuts through the chaos as her body throws off heat, causing the air around her to ripple and warp into the familiar heat mirage. Thank God I gave her the space, I would have gotten burnt from the rapidly rising temperature of her body. Steam hisses and spits off of her skin as smoke bellows from her mouth and jets from her nose.

I watch as I keep the bugs off of her. The shimmering particulates in the smoke start to move and gather, merging to become an entire swarm of shards the size of razor sharp, white-hot hornets. Kestrel’s arms move back into an open position before swinging them forward, commanding the shards to fly off towards the enemy.

The shards almost seem to buzz as they cut through the air, burying into anything that’s in their way. The metal is hot enough to make the blink scorpions pop like ichor-filled balloons and cook the shamblers and runners that tried to climb up.

The metal-bees couldn’t penetrate the rock armor of the Momma Bitch, but to our relief, some of them hit their marks and bore into the exposed joints. The living boulder screams in agony as its joints seizes from the onslaught, causing it to stagger and tumble from the momentum. Anything unlucky enough to be under-foot gets turned into a glowing purple paste on the red dirt as HEMTT leaves the bastards in the dust.

“Take that, bitch.” The Gunsmith pants out with a snarl and a smirk before her eyes cool and her body starts to wobble. I move to catch her so she doesn’t fall off the HEMTT. Damn, the combination of expending a large burst of RFE and the rain rapidly cooling her must be sapping her strength like mad.

“Hey…” She pants out. “Thanks for the catch.” I grunt in acknowledgement as I let her use my body as a support. We watch the monster-mash of a road wreck grow smaller and smaller as we escape. Out of the corner of my eyes I can spot light starting to grow.

Turning my head to see the source of the light, I gawk at the sight that is rapidly approaching.

Bright spotlights, all forming a barrier that burned and scorched any Warped that dare stray too close. Within the safety of the perimeter lies a city that looked like the fucking carnival took it over. Rides made of metal and scrap tower like skyscrapers and roller coasters snake through any buildings in maddening twists and turns. The crowning jewel of the sight? A large red and yellow striped tent with three prominent points, the center its tallest.

I turn to Kestrel and I see her face relax into a smile, the smile of someone coming home.

“Cole, welcome to Tri-Point.”

#infamous #infamous 2 #cole macgrath #demon of empire city #infamous: no man's land #xeno writes #caper #blast shard caper #pangolin #Mako #Dove #tw: creepy crawlies #tw: scorpions #tw arachnophobia #tw arachnids #cw: creepy crawlies #cw: scorpions #cw: arachnophobia #cw: spiders #tw spiders #The Misfits #tw: trypophobia #tw: ommetaphobia #cw: ommetaphobia #cw: trypophobia

[gregorsgirlfriend]

Eternity

Fives x gn!Reader

Hi, this is my first ever fic so I'm a bit nervous to share but I hope you enjoy it! : D

Warning: existential themes?

Word Count: 480 words

Plot: You and Fives meet in the afterlife!!!! <3

"Knock knock!"

Everything is blurry.

"Who's there?"

Your eyes are open, you can feel it.

"Kiss."

It's too bright.

"Kiss who?"

The world is materializing, colors and shapes.

"Kiss me!"

"Huh?"

You sat up, vision still bleary but Maker forbid you ever forget that ludicrous goatee. Your sight finally cleared but was just as soon clouded with tears. You weren't sure if it was the how-why-when's or the would-could-should-have's but your throat burned at the sight. Those amber eyes, taken too too soon; that foxy grin, never never meant to lower.

"Yeah, okay. That was bad! I know..."

That flirtatious, make you forget that you're dead kinda laugh.

"Alright, get a load of this one! Knock knock!"

And when you pressed a hand against him he didn't fade like some cruel cruel apparition. He only chuckled as you locked him in your arms to keep him there til the stars came down. Or had they already? Perhaps death persisted even after the universe died.

Head pressed to his chest, summery and soft. Is it permissible to be so full of life succeeding it?

With a sniffle your words came together.

"Who's there?"

"Heaven."

Heaven or not you were thankful for it.

"Heaven who?"

Whether this was a moment, a lifetime, an eternity you were thankful for it.

"Heaven seen you in awhile!"

Silky, delicate hands, supple like they never would, could have been in life, tilted your head up. You couldn't help the smile that scorched your face nor the tears that ignited your eyes.

"Kriff, Fives. I'm not sure I'll be able to handle eternity with you."

Maker, you could spend infinite eternities with him. You would spend infinite eternities with him even if only to hear him repeat the same stupid joke until the end of time. End of... death?

And Maker, that grin of his. That make you wanna cry kinda smile. You wished he could have shown it to Rex, Kix, Echo one last time! But the afterlife isn't the place for if-only's.

"Oh, cyare."

But where it usually meant oh cyare, another brother is dead, another battle lost, another day of this kriffing war, it was now oh cyare, you are here. When you're dead you feel no remorse that you died young, no remorse that you won't see the end of the war. As far as you knew, that war might still be waging on but you and Fives had done your parts. And until now you have never had a moment to just be together. Not be together, be together. Now you had eternity for it. Eternity.

Your hands tucked in his neat, knotted hair. Lips crushed irrevocably to his. This was eternity.

"Fives, tell me another one."

Heaven was in that crinkle of his eyes, the whimsical severity of his laugh.

"Not yet, cyare. I don't have enough for forever!"

"Good thing we have eternity for you to make more."

#star wars #the clone wars #tcw #arc trooper fives #arc trooper fives x reader #tcw fives #fives #fives x reader #xenos writes

[valve3nthusiast]

Tiny alien parasite that eats electricity crawling under a bots panels and attaching itself to the outer node

It starts eating the charge that sucking on it makes... the bot lives in a base with plenty of others, it's hard to get privacy sometimes, but after trying to ignore it for a day he finally gets a moment alone in the washracks to figure out what's going on. He sees that there's some sort of weird growth on his node and tries to pull it off, but touching it causes the parasite to bite down and suck so hard he overloads

The bot is too embarrassed/confused to go to medical, so the parasite has the time to start reproducing, and it does incredibly fast. The parasite's spawn spreads to the inside of his valve and attach themselves to all the prominent internal nodes. A few even make it into his spike sheath

The bot feeling so much regret and hiding from everyone because now he's constantly on the edge of overload. But after so many started feeding, even when he pokes and tugs at the parasites to provoke them, the charge gets drained too fast and permanently edges him

His entire array is ridiculously overcrowded after a few days. The parasites run out of specific nodes and just start attaching to any avaliable space. The walls of his valve are so jam packed with them you can't even see the mesh anymore, the only thing stopping his constantly pressurized spike from extending is that there isnt enough space in his sheath for it to move

The parasites breed too fast, actually, and start searching for new hosts

The entire base is soon infected and goes under quarantine. Unfortunately, the medical facilities on site aren't equipped for treatment. Even more unfortunately, something more important is happening somewhere else. Everyone on base has to wait for weeks until a medical team with the right equipment is available to treat them...

#valveplug #mine #xeno×2 #overload denial #i didnt have any continuity in mind when writing this but the lost light version of this would be insane i think #genuinely curious if this might be too gross for some people. guess ill find out

[riddlemethisjeremy]

[Xeno entered the atmosphere of Earth, landing his space ship gently off the coast of what was once Toronto. As Xeno prepares to enter Earth's atmosphere - he doesn't require a suit, as his planet has a similar atmosphere, and it would be incredibly difficult to manufacture a space suit to entirely encompass Xeno's form comfortably and in a skintight fashion - his ship bleeps.]

LIFE FORM APPROACHING ! LIFE FORM APPROACHING ! LIFE FO RM APPROACHING ! LIFE FORM APPROACHING ! LIFE FORM APP ROACHING ! LIFE FORM APPROACHING ! LIFE FORM APPROACHI NG ! LIFE FORM APPROACHING ! LIFE FORM APPROACHING !

"What do- A sentient life form?" Xeno asked the mainframe.

YES, A SENTIENT LIFE FORM.

Xeno's many eyes blinked, dumbounded, and he frowned, scuttling over towards the computer, "I didn't think there were any of those left on this planet?" Xeno stated, trying to identify what exactly was approaching his ship, "Aren't the humans extinct?"

I'M NOT SURE; A SENTIENT LIFE FORM IS CERTAINLY APPROACHING YOUR SHIP!

"Is it a human?" Xeno's eyes widen in surprise and elated curiosity, "I'm going to talk to it."

I DO NOT ADVISE THAT COURSE OF ACTION.

Xeno clicked a couple of buttons on his computer, and the hatch to his space ship opened slowly, the hydralics hissing as air rushed in through the open air.

XENO? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I SAID NO.

He trotted down the ramp that had automatically deployed under the open door, looking around for the human he'd seen. He caught the shock of chestnut brown hair first, a much brighter shade of brown than anything else in the ghost-town that Xeno had landed in. The crumbled ruins of high rises and other buildings that Xeno had not spent enough time researching to know what they were called littered the area, all hidden under a layer of gray-white dust - all except the human who seemed surprisingly clean in its bright yellow sweater and blue denim cargo pants. The rim of its vision-enhancing-goggles were shiny, but the lenses were horribly fogged up in the brisk air. Xeno's second layer of fur was struggling to fight off the bite of the chill, so he had to wonder how the nearly hairless human could survive.

The human's eyes widened as it saw Xeno, and it stopped approaching, taking a shaky step backwards. Xeno frowned, fighting hard to remember his lessons in human language. He knew the language fairly well, having always been able to grasp at the finer points of linguistics across many of the ancient alien cultures he'd been forced to study, but he was pretty patchy with it, and wasn't entirely sure how to address the human.

"Stop, please, I mean you no harm!" Xeno called out, "I- I've got homework and you can help, please."

The human stopped, staring quietly at Xeno, "Will you take me out of here?"

"Absolutely, you can stay with me if you want I- There's room in my ship."

The human considered this for a moment, then nodded softly, "What's the assignment?"

Xeno grinned, motioning back up to his ramp, "Let me show you."

#alien meta #humans are space orcs #aliens #original writing #original characters #storytelling #Narrator Speaks #Xeno Speaks #Computer Speaks #Jeremy Speaks

[maidish]

︶꒦꒷ ୨ PINKSYRINGIC : 🎀💉

a gender related to a syringe filled with a weird, pink liquid. whether it is actually harmful or if it heals is up to the user.

coined late for gorey cointober

[ id: the first image is a seven striped, horizontal, symmetrical flag. the colors in order are a warm pink, light pink, pastel blue, near-white blue, pastel blue, light pink, warm pink. the second is the same flag with a syringe symbol in the center. the syringe has a pastel blue to pink gradient. the third flag is the same as the first, except the light pink stripes have glitter over them. the fourth is the same as the second, except with the same glittery light pink stripes as the third. / end id ]

#this is an experimental image id because i’m unsure at how good i am at writing them… tell me if it’s okay! #berry nice genders #pinksyringic #gorey cointober #mogai community #mogai blog #mogai coining #xenogender blog #mogai #xeno coining #mogai gender #xenogender #xenogenders #xenoidentity #actually mogai #actually liom #liom community #liom flag #liom label #mogai label #xeno identity #label coining #syringe cw

[byanyan]

@grimesucker sent 🤳 + 5 for:

ㅤbyan's family (biological, adopted, & found); feat. sol, the boyfriend (@lee-sol); lena, the older sister (@chronal-anomaly); ardaka, the parental sibling figure (@apexulansis); kit, the (sort of but not technically) younger sister (@florafound); garrett, the vaguely guardian-esque figure (@gnarledbite); & dox, the mom (@grimesucker)

#OK LOOK FIRST OF ALL DON'T GET ME WRONG: there ARE more people who byan would loosely consider family #but....... for my sanity in digging up images.... i focused on those who i've plotted with/write with the most... #and stuck to like. one muse per mun lmaoaskjfhsd #this also spans across a few verse so like... u've got 3 for modern... 1 for space orphan... 1 for fledgling... & 1 (or ig kinda 2) for uc #just!!! the people who have the most developed familial relationships w/ byan u know? #and yes shut up boyf is included in family bc it's just a necessity. i will not be apologizing. #also had to fall back on an aesthetic image i snagged off of xeno's resource blog for ardaka #but then i realized it's actually v fitting even ic bc he doesn't show up properly on camera anyway lmaooo #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ answered: ooc. #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ headcanon ⋮ danger in the fabric of this thing i made. #grimesucker #lee-sol #chronal anomaly #apexulansis #florafound #gnarledbite