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zineobiology · 1 month

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Welcome to the Zine O’Biology

A multi-fandom Star Trek Zine.

Do you have strong opinions on Vulcan fra’als, Cardassian tails, or how the heck Trill symbionts reproduce? We want to hear from you!

The Zine O’Biology is a fictional comparative xenobiology academic journal set in the Star Trek universe. If you’ve always wanted to wax eloquent for up to 3000 words about your theories on alien biology, welcome to your new home!

We want all your theories about all your favorite aliens! This is a friendly but competitive academic journal where the content of every paper is a little bit suspicious (is this paper based on rumor or fact? What is the methodology?) and some competing authors leave snarky comments on one another’s work. So just like a real academic journal, except ours features the Great Green Anthurium.

We welcome xenobiology articles on all Star Trek aliens from all series!

The final format will be a PDF that you can scroll at your leisure or print at home in order to have a physical copy of the Zine. (This way there is no money involved.)

--SEEKING SUBMISSIONS FOR--

Alien biology articles

Alien biology artwork

In-Universe advertisements

Letters to the editor

ALIEN BIOLOGY ARTICLES

How do Andorian genders work? Are Cardassians actually lizards? Why do Klingons have so many redundant organs? What’s the biological purpose of Bajoran nose ridges? What’s the best cement mix for emergency surgery on a Horta?

You’ve been pondering alien biology for years. This is your chance to infodump all your favorite theories to an eager audience of your fellow nerds!

Articles will be separated into two categories: reproductive biology or general biology. Yes, we also want all your theories on what every species is packing downstairs…and how they use it.

Journal articles should be fun and engaging, but also written in your interpretation of a pseudo-academic style, since this is a highly respected Federation xenobiology journal. If you want to keep things more lighthearted and less academic, check out the section on Letters to the Editor.

ALIEN BIOLOGY ARTWORK

If you have independent illustrations about alien biology we would love to see them! If you would like to provide illustrations for one of our journal articles, tell us what species you want to illustrate and we’ll do our best to match you up!

Art should be in a square, scaleable format, printable at high resolution at 4x4 inches.

JOURNAL ADVERTISEMENTS

Even in a post-need future, academic journals will need a little extra funding. Submit your ads for Ferengi Oomox Creme, Self Sealing Stem Bolts, Gently Used Federation Technology, and, of course, “reproductive aids.” The weirder the better! Have fun with it!

All art needs to be printable at high resolution

Ad Sizes:

1 column (vertical) 3.5 x 7

half page (horizontal) 8 x 5

banner (narrow horizontal) 8 x 2

in-text (square) 3.5 x 3.5 scaleable

in-text (half-square) 3.5 x 1.75

LETTERS TO THE EDITOR

Do you have a great idea, but it’s not enough to fill out a 3000 word article? Submit it as a “reaction” to a previous journal article. Feel free to lay into a mythical researcher who does NOT understand why their biological theory is wrong and yours is right!

Max length 800 words. Enjoy making these plenty frothy!

WE NEED SUB-EDITORS!

The creators of this Zine are all notorious Vulcan Fuckers. Since we want the Zine O’Biology to be open to all alien species, it is only logical that we seek your expertise.

We’re seeking fans from all over the Star Trek universe to spread the word that yes, it’s time for us to all come together in the spirit of explaining how our favorite aliens come together.

Sub-Editors will be in charge of helping us solicit articles and art for their specific race of aliens and editing those articles in order to fit into the Zine. If we don’t have a sub editor for a species, we’ll do our best, but the chapter on that species won’t be as good as it would be if folks with real fanon knowledge were involved.

WANT TO GET INVOLVED, BUT YOU’RE NOT A WRITER OR ARTIST?

WE NEED:

Graphic designers to help with Zine layout

Social media promoters

Alien art and article wranglers (ie: get your fannish friends involved!)

--HOW TO GET INVOLVED--

Fill out the Art or Writing Google Form letting us know your interests or reach out to the Editor in Chief at [email protected]

DEADLINES:

August 1, 2024: Last date for everyone seeking an art or writing partner to submit their request. We don’t guarantee you’ll be partnered up. It depends on how many people are interested and what aliens they want to draw/write.

August 18, 2024: Art/Writing partners notified. NOTE: it’s both fine and encouraged if you want to submit as a team from the start! This is for people who do not have a partner and would like us to find them one.

August 30, 2024: Final call for all journal authors, artists, and advertisers to let us know what species they’re working with, how many submissions they plan to send, and whether their submission will be general or reproductive biology.

October 20, 2024: All art, advertising, and journal submissions are due

We hope to have the Zine O’Biology ready for your enjoyment by New Year’s Eve 2024. We all have full time jobs and lives, so that date may change depending on the volume of submissions.

FAQ

What if my biological theories are totally different from another author’s?

Yes. Perfect. We love it.

We want to see everyone’s theories! Canon gave us scraps, but together we will make a meal! Expect to see many mutually contradictory articles. That’s part of the fun!

What about Smut?

Yes, we are accepting E rated submissions! The journal will be separated into two sections:

General Biology

Reproductive Biology

General Biology is everything but the genitals

Reproductive Biology should include actual descriptions of the mechanics and biology. Think of it as creating reference material for smut writers and artists.

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demonsplendor · 6 months

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18+ reader x alien - “Collector” (NSFT)

Pt 1/3 Your alien partner cums thick orbs of sperm, but he hates it to the point of preventing himself from orgasms. You help come up with a way to help facilitate him finally being able to ejaculate with minimal discomfort.

CW: dysmorphia, sounding

Word count: 1.4k

pt 2.1 pt 2.2 pt 2.3

+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

“I wish I could get rid of them.”

“There’s a procedure.”

He rests his head on your chest, the smooth, hard, and cold exterior of his shell-like plating does not feel very uncomfortable.

“I know, but…”

This topic disturbed him as much as the act itself; his ability to pass individually large, globular, masses of sperm. An incompatible vessel, such as yours, would merely collect these undulating deposits of ooze. Your body would uncomfortably, but not unpleasantly, swell as though you were a basket filled with Easter eggs until they began to spill and slip out of you.

You were only aware of this by description and context alone, he had adamantly never wanted to try.

The two of you took on each other in a different way, him riding your strap until he could feel the beginnings. You could too for this much he was willing to show you. You knew where to feel on your own now but he had guided you the first few times towards the base of his bumpy and ridged shaft. It didn’t look any different but if you squeezed you could feel resistance, it felt like a bowling ball concealed in a sock.

It was at this stage that you would thread the long, sterilized rod into the tip’s slit.

His body would ripple, his mandible-like teeth would chatter, and he’d let out a soft gasp as you let gravity take over the long pin.

He was able to excrete an ooze of his own, as you continue to slowly run your hand up and down the length of him, you’d feel the mounting slime on the surface start to run in between your fingers.

He would grip the outside of your thighs tightly, sitting patiently with your dildo embedded within him.

“Twist it.”

You kiss the crook of his neck before using your free hand to oblige, twisting the rod very gently. You’d whisper to him in a caution, “Don’t buck,” and it took him all of his willpower not to.

He lets out a whine, the sound coming of his plated face as a more muffled wheeze. You kiss him again, encouraging him, “You’re doing such a good job.”

You could feel at the base what was once firm and larger than a golf ball now felt like a popped water balloon. You continue to masturbate him, subsequent sperms that were behind the first would be immediately skewered and popped by the rod.

He said that he produced about six at a time; you had never seen it for yourself, or even one an entire one intact, because by the time you did it was just like thick semen with bits of tissue, the outer membrane.

His four-fingered hands were nearly white knuckling, you wanted to kiss the carapace on his chest.

If he were doing this to you, allowing you to be the recipient, you’d be able to.

No, you never suggested it.

You had early on but when he stormed out of the room in an upset, you knew it was a forbidden request to try again.

You liked this arrangement too, though. He liked that he was submissive to you, and he was, but you had a difficult time as seeing yourself as the counterpart. He trusted you enough to divulge that it felt too uncomfortable and disturbing to cum, that he never, ever, masturbated despite feeling intense arousal.

With him as the primary historian, you were able to find some resources and literature on this alien species’ anatomy and reproductive cycle. Together you were able to surmise that if it was passing the sperms whole that felt horrible, that maybe you could pierce them before they exited.

And it worked.

“Please…”

He arches, craning his whole body into you. You nearly have to let go of him to keep yourself balanced. A laugh escapes you, his eagerness infectious, “Hold on, hold on.”

You don’t delay him further but you need to remain careful when you remove the rod. It had gone in slightly lubricated, but now it had more viscous material clinging into it from within.

Twisting it ever so slightly, pulling it up with your sterile hand, you guide it out of him. You are not teasing him, you’re only exercising abundant caution as to not puncture or tear him, but he whines out again.

“Please..!”

“Almost, we’re almost there. You’re doing so good.”

You kiss at his neck, one of the handful of sections that was soft tissue among his otherwise chitinous body.

“You’re doing so good for me.”

The end of rod exits with a schlrp, it causes him to shudder hard. You put the rod down carefully on the table, in the zone that was still sanitized but was the half you’d use when it came out of him.

You’d resume pumping him, and introduce your now free hand to smooth over his tip, bucking your hips a little into him.

“Good boy, have at it now.”

He took no time at all before he began to bounce along with your hips, riding you until he sends, keeping one hand firmly on your thigh and moving his other to join your slipping and sliding hands. It was only a short amount of time before a thick thread shoots out of him, your hands colliding as you both tried to cover him as quickly as possible.

You always tried to, but his hands were larger and he could contain almost all of it. He needed to use his other hand too, moving it to cup underneath himself as you rubbed it all out of him.

Earth-familiar milky white ran into his hands, but there was green and blue mixed in too, the thick outer membrane. You knew you were nearly at the last drop of if, he hanging his head back to lean against you again. He’s panting while he kneads the tip with his thumb, the sensation causing his body to jerk and he croons out in a hitched, “Mm.. a-ahh..”

This entire operation was like clockwork, a container was already prepared next to your feet for him to unceremoniously drop his cupped handful into.

Such an event had just taken place, the two of you lying down after cleaning up. He rests his head on your chest post-coital, and remains silent without completing his thought.

You gently touch his mandibles. They weren’t true mandibles in any sort of Earth sense, they were merely the same shape and function but they were made from bone, they were his teeth.

He finally looks up at you, “I know there’s a procedure, but…”

You wanted to encourage him, whether to continue or to comfort him in knowing he didn’t have to tell you, or that he could say it later.

You move from his face and place a hand on his chest. It’s plated like many parts of his body but this place was slightly more flexible, when you touched him you could feel his heart as though you heard someone knocking from across the house.

”There’s a medical want for them, to collect them. For members of my species on this planet that can… host them,” he says it cautiously, as though not to offend you, but you’re aware of this medical call and feel no upset by it, “and then they’re also… worth a lot of money.”

That they were.

Outside of the desire for reproductive increase on your planet, these globs of alien sperm were highly sought after, both for research and for more nefarious reasons.

He picks his head up suddenly and rolls over you, not applying any weight of course or else he’s suddenly crush you, instead straddling over you.

“Do you think you could come up with a way to try to collect them? In a way that makes it feel less… awful?”

You prop yourself up on your arms.

“You want to try to cum with them intact?”

He makes a sound of discomfort, you reach up to hold his scrunched, otherworldly, face. You tell him softly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. That is what I mean. But to be collected, not to be…” he trails off but you already understand.

Not to be inside of you.

You brush along his cheek, “I can try to. I can try to design a way that we can collect them without you feeling so much discomfort.”

He breaks away from your hand to chitter his teeth across your throat and neck.

He purrs heavily against you, “I love you so much. Thank you.”

#terato #exophilia #alien boyfriend #alien biology #monster x reader #monster x human #monster nsft #alien nsft #nsft imagine #Monster lovers #alien x reader #original writing

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space-blue · 1 month

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Distant cousins of the jungle's stingbat, the aptly named stunbat (Tsealìm in Na'vi) is a native of the Txepìva volcanic plains that hunts by diving from great heights and colliding with their prey head-first, stunning them.

Their head is blunt, with a threefold crest reminiscent of the great leonopterix's dual one, but significantly more ossified. Their neck is thick and muscular, to help support the structure, but also to weather the high velocity impacts.

The hands, small and with fused fingers in jungle stingbats, are much larger here, and used to catch stunned prey falling from the sky, or pick them off the ground as they swoop down. It also allows stunbats to eat on the fly, as it were, as the plains' chaotic environment doesn't always provide them with safe perching opportunities.

Stunbats have short, prehensile neural queues that retract under thick, keratinous neck frills. The extra mobility of this limb allows them to make quick connections while in mid-air, front to back, back to back, or belly to belly, the latter being the more commonly seen one, accompanied by a stabilising "handshake".

The stunbat's vision is excellent. Early research by Eyris Makri with the Tuin clan of the Txepìva showed that their domesticated stunbats were able to spot prey up to 4 miles away, seeing clearly at ten times the distance of their Na'vi handlers. Their primary eyes show a high concentration of foveas, giving them enough focus to clearly distinguish prey moving against the complex backdrop of the plains and lava fields.

Although the stunbat's barbed tail has lost most of its poisonous sting, it is still used in defence against larger predators. Their best defence, however, remains a Na'vi bow.

It is hard to tell exactly when domestication started, though the olo'eyktan of the Tau'un clan claims one of his ancestors was the first to tame a stunbat. We're told this happened during the "Time of Long Nights", but dating that event is equally complicated. Current estimations are a minimum of two millenia.

During that time, the stunbat's range remained tied to the volcanic plains of the Txepìva clans, although the species has been observed by Serafiina Hukkala as far out as Mons St. Helen. One must note that the stunbat is unlike our previous study case of the Viperhound, which are bred for various purposes. Interviews with Txepìva hunters (Makri et al.) suggest that their relationship to the Na'vi is similar to that of cats and humans, with multiple domestication events, beneficial to both species. Na'vi led breeding appears to be very incidental, as stunbats tend to fly off to find mates in the wild, rather than mating among their clan's flock.

This species is significantly larger than their forest cousins.

The most common uses of stunbats are for scouting and hunting. While hunting of small game is extremely similar to what humans once achieved with eagles, stunbats also take part in hunting expeditions for large prey.

They are used to follow the movements of herds, but also to help separate young calves from their mothers, or the weak and wounded, by dive bombing them (Hukkala et al.) They understand complex orders, communicate with clicks and shrieks, and will come to hang on the queue or harness of their paired Txepìva to share more detailed visuals through Tsaheylu.

This is also how they are used for scouting. Serafiina Hukkala postulated that the stunbats' mated pair lifestyle influenced Txepìva culture by making the act of scouting a couple's task. Scouting, we must remind the reader, is a lot more crucial to the Txepìva, who have no qualms waging war against each other for the domination of water sources and fertile land. Raiding parties, while not frequent, are a banal part of life on the plains. Even small children learning to work with stunbats will be sent on sentry duties, often on the back of a Lenonin Hound.

The reason mated pairs of stunbats are favoured is because of their long flight range and their ability to connect together in mid-air. This means one side of the couple can move far ahead, and report back to their partner, already extended to the edge of their range. A couple of scouting stunbats effectively covers double the range a single hunter would.

Stunbats are occasionally used to communicate with similar techniques. While one half of a pair can be sent to deliver a message to another tribe, the other remains with their clan (often brooding). The homing individual (whichever has best endurance, as both sexes feed and brood chicks at will) can find its way back to them even if the clan is on the move. More research is needed on their communication capabilities.

When travelling or staying in temporary camps, stunbats are housed in loose baskets designed to let them hang onto the side. These carriers are custom made by every clan and come in many forms and sizes. Brooding stunbats are carried, either by a Na'vi who will fashion straps to turn the basket into a backpack, or tied to the back of Leonin Hounds.

In more permanent camps, the Texpiva craft treillis to give them places to hang from. Serafiina Hukkala reported a clan that arranged dried branches and material for firewood as perches, while Eyris Makri stayed with a couple who fashioned fake branches at the top of their tents, like rafters. Both heard reports of clans that house their stunbats along with their livestock, but the practice seemed frowned upon.

The bond between Na'vi and Tsealìm needs further study. It isn't as exclusive as with an ikran, but much more complex than with direhorses. Stunbats bond strongly with a small family node, and more weakly with the extended family and friend group. Tsaheylu is typically only done with their main Na'vi hunters, although the stunbat can be introduced and passed down to children.

Emergency tsaheylu was witnessed twice by Makri, when a scout had urgent reports and the stunbat was sent ahead. Connection was made with the clan's tsahìk, who had a habit of bonding with every newborn stunbat. The practice, we were told, can be controversial.

Hunter depicted without ornaments, to highlight the process of Tsaheylu.

Some clans craft harnesses for hunters to better carry and support their stunbats, while others prefer natural body-to-body contact. The folding or tying of the neural queue to allow for better access to the kuru/tendrils seems universal among all interviewed hunters and scouts. Different styles were observed and will be presented in our published notebooks, after our paper on the use of stunbats in skirmishes and outright warfare, as the Txepìva practice it.

Part II of @straydaddy (art and design) and @bluedaddysgirl (lore concept + final art entry) in-world collaborative study, "Introduction to the Txepiva clans, their nomadic pastoralism and niche selective breeding practices in species of stingbats and viperwolves". On twitter we are Knarme and Bluedaddysgirl

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sinisterexaggerator · 19 days

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I casually explained the cause of Bane's modulated “accent” in Stars Above and then promptly forgot about it.

Headcanon:

“So, ye've gotta lil' problem on yer hands, dhen?” Bane feigned interest to keep his potential employer entertained, his voice tinged with a certain air of sinister directness, words laced with an accent that was commonplace among his kind; his vocal cords vibrated in a unique way, even though he spoke in Basic. Duros' epilaryngeal tubes were naturally more narrow; it took practice to not slip up, as this language was not his first.

OK, SO.

I have already talked about how I think Duros use cutaneous respiration, absorbing oxygen through their skin and also the slits beneath their eyes where their olfactory organs are:

“Cutaneous respiration, or cutaneous gas exchange (sometimes called, skin breathing),[1] is a form of respiration in which gas exchange occurs across the skin or outer integument of an organism rather than gills or lungs. Cutaneous respiration may be the sole method of gas exchange, or may accompany other forms, such as ventilation. Cutaneous respiration occurs in a wide variety of organisms, including insects, amphibians, fish, sea snakes, turtles, and to a lesser extent in mammals. It also occurs in reptiles."

That is not to say he doesn't have lungs, he definitely does (Cutaneous respiration may be the sole method of gas exchange, or may accompany other forms, such as ventilation), but this may just be the way that Duros absorb oxygen, as it is obvious he doesn't have a nose, and these organs beneath his eyes must be slit-like or nearly microscopic, as we have never seen them, even with the mask off.

It makes sense Bane can breathe from the same place he can register smells, BUT, Cad has a different accent in Clone Wars than he does in The Bad Batch, and I felt this would be a fun way to explain it. The leading theory was it was due to the mechanical breathing tubes he sounds this way; his voice is modulated, BUT, Duros in Battlefront 2 ALSO SOUND LIKE THIS. And to me, Durese sounds a lot like Huttese.

youtube

I tend to think this ALSO sounds modulated, as stated above, therefore maybe it has something to do with the functionality / " cranial edge of their larynx."

Found in the Journal of the Acoustical Society of America:

A hypothesis was presented: The shape (length and diameter) of the epilaryngeal tube in nonhuman mammals is related to morphological parameters (vocal fold morphology, larynx size, body size) and parameters characterizing the species vocal repertoire (repertoire size, maximum sound amplitude, fundamental frequency range, occurrence of nonlinear phenomena). Preliminary results indicate that the length of the epilaryngeal tube is a poor predictor of repertoire characteristics such as maximum sound amplitude and fundamental frequency range. However, species with a prominent epilaryngeal tube produce a large proportion of high fundamental frequency call types.

Basically, what if Duros had NARROW tubes? Thus, this is the cause of the way they sound. It doesn't have to do with the BREATHING tubes being physically down his throat - the breathing tubes provide extra oxygen in the case he is force choked and his normal air pathway is blocked, therefore increasing intake through the scales/slits - it has to do with the actual shape, and "morphological parameters" of the Duros as a species.

The accent itself is the accent of the Descent Ghetto, or the accent of the last of the Duros who populated the planet before escaping to the orbiting way stations to avoid the pollution of their dying home world. That's just how it comes out in Basic.

As Bane spent more and more time around sentient beings, he possibly began to lose the accent, or he chose to undergo vocal training, most likely in the privacy of his hideaway, and needed something or someone to use as an example. Maybe he also has to train himself to relax his throat, which is entirely possible.

Now let's say he hates holomovies, but the only ones he can stand to watch are the westerns. Maybe he liked the style of the old cowboys, too. ;D I think you know where I am going with this.

This may also explain why Shriv doesn't have an accent, but he does have a lisp. He may or may not have been raised on Duro around other Duros, and he may have spent so much time around humans or other beings who speak Basic that he just talks normal and not like a Duros at all.

It should also be noted Bane slipped up once in the latest episode of the Bad Batch. There was a line that @allsystemsblue pointed out that also sounded like his old Clone Wars way of speaking. This proves to me he mostly “got rid of it,” but still slips up on occasion, and most likely especially when emotions are high, as his epilaryngeal tubes are still narrow. It is a part of his morphology.

BONUS (found after the fact. seems to me, I am right. ;D):

youtube

#duros #headcanon #cad bane #shriv suurgav #star wars #clone wars #bad batch #battlefront 2 #alien biology #Youtube

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cucuxumusu · 4 months

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Omega Bruce who wants a pup (duh!), so he goes to a sperm bank to get an anonymous donation. Everything goes well, until he goes to his first checkup and finds out the pup is developing weirdly, and just as he is freaking out, an alpha (Clark) enters the examination room saying "I can smell my pup".

#alien biology #strangers to lovers #superbat #superman #bruce wayne #clark kent #batman

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superfam · 2 years

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So, Kryptonians evolved under a red sun. Their vision would be different compared to what humans see.

With the majority of the light they see being red wavelengths (there are still green/blue wavelengths, but much less so), the cones in their eyes (or whatever analogous structure) would pick up colour differently.

Their blue and green cones would be much more sensitive than their red cones. Even without the powers of a yellow sun, their eyesight would probably be better than humans' (they might even be able to see colours that humans can't)!

However, they would likely be a lot more sensitive to bright lights as they have higher blue and green wavelengths. It would probably be very hard for them to look at (at least in their unpowered state, whether this would change when their cells are yellow sun-powered as they are immune to all sorts of damage is another thing to consider).

My point is: Clark grew up seeing colours differently than his peers. A lot differently. And before he developed his powers under the yellow sun, it's likely he was very sensitive to bright lights.

This is one way that he's always felt he's different. A subtle trouble within him.

#thank you to my Physics Friend for explaining how light/vision works for me xx #superman #clark kent #krypton #kryptonian biology #alien biology #dc #dc comics #supers #kal #headcanon #original

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junipershouse · 6 months

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communication in multi-species living spaces

it's relatively easy to learn a language. what is harder is learning to speak a language. this barrier becomes even more insurmountable when you do not have the anatomical parts to produce a sound used in a language, or don't have the organs to interpret the medium of that language. then, miscommunication isn't simply a case of miscommunication - it's a case of incompatibility. for example. rrikrik is a kkariko, and soh is a ki. kkariko communicate auditorily, using a specialized organ to produce noise alongside their exoskeleton teeth and antennae noises. ki communicate using low frequency waves, and their antennae organ is poised specifically to interpret said waves. kkariko lack any sort of organ to sense low-frequency waves, and ki physically cannot make the noises required to speak kkariko languages. so how can rrikrik and soh communicate?

this is an issue which affects almost every single multi-species living space in the universe. especially more political or industrial spaces, where communication is incredibly important. a lot of time and energy has been invested into figuring out ways that species with drastically different anatomy can still communicate clearly with each other. there are three methods used in tandem among multi-species living environments to ease communication. press keep reading to learn more about them! :3

the first method: common lingua franca and assistive devices

most sophant species already have hundreds, if not thousands, of languages and dialects spoken within their own species populations. in many cases, a couple of languages may emerge as "lingua franca" among the population, typically due to complex political situations. this lingua franca is often expressed in multi-species environments too.

just because somebody cannot speak a language doesn't mean they can't learn it. there are also plenty of assistive devices used by / fore example, referring back to rrikrik and soh - rrikrik could use a technological device designed to pick up low frequency waves to hear what soh is saying, and soh could use a specialist voice synth program containing a kkariko noise library to communicate in a kkariko language.

this is obviously the most labor-intensive method of communication for all involved. however, it's the most reliable and often the most personable. it feels good to be able to communicate with your friends in a language they understand, and

the second method: universal sign communication

universal sign communication (USC) is a constructed language developed in the founding age of the ICDCI by a cross-species team of linguists. the goal of USC as a language was to level the playing field by offering up a universal language with a low theoretical accessibility barrier.

USC as a lexicon relies on simplistic movements of limbs, with movements designed to be replicated by those with varying body anatomy. due to this, USC has a "less is more" ethos and relies on the stringing together of movements as opposed to fine motor control and expressiveness, with one sign or movement meaning multiple things depending on context. the only thing that a person needs to be able to communicate in USC is a moderately flexible body and potentially one limb. although some individuals without conventional limbs will simply perform the USC signs with their whole body instead. USC can be modified as a vocabulary to accommodate other more static body plans if needed, too.

this is the most common option when it comes to communicating in a work environment. USC is relatively easy to learn, is easy to understand, and doesn't require any technology. it can also be used in environments where other forms of communication are impossible. almost every cosmonaut knows at least rudimentary USC, and its required to work and live in many astral communities just because of how convenient it is in that environment. USC also has a pictographic "written" form which acts as diagrams in performing the specific signs.

of course, USC is largely inaccessible for those who lack visual senses. whilst there has been an attempt to "translate" USC into a spoken language, it sort of defeats the purpose of Universal Sign Communication. there has been discussion about developing a sort of spoken USC but it's a much more complicated feat due to the diversity of sounds vs the diversity of gestures and movements.

another pitfall of USC is the nature of its vocabulary. because USC was a language designed to be used in a professional environment, its vocab is often limited to professional topics. its easy to tell somebody what a certain lever does using USC, and even ask them how they are and if they rested well, but its significantly harder to chat about that piece of media you just love using USC. and forget about making jokes. some linguists have expanded the USC vocabulary with more casual gestures and signs, but these signs are often considered "non essential" for learners and seen as optional side studies for those more invested.

USC can also be easily misunderstood, especially by beginners. those communicating in USC are reminded to sign slowly and with intent.

the third method: received speakers.

received speakers are a specialized "memetic-will hybrid" device. "will" is a catch-all term for a grouping of energies exerted by beings onto the complex structure of energies/concepts referred to colloquially as "reality". memetic in this context refers to an idea or concept, translated into language, which can be brought into the consciousness of a being with behavioural changes apparent. this is a very basic description of both terms.

received speakers work by utilizing the memetic affect and will-energy together. the material that the received speaker made of is a sink and an amplifier of will-energy, a conductor of it. (the material used is a potentially-biological "fossil" alloy, found only in a few places.) before use, received speakers need to be calibrated to the specific will-energy of their user. after that, the received speaker will pick up on their user's will-energy and their user's will-energy only. however, a received speaker with no intentionality is useless. intentionality is built with memetic conditioning. the goal of the conditioning is to fix ideas in the consciousness of the user. these ideas are: 1: when the user communicates with a recipient, their intention with their words is transferred to the received speaker. 2: received speakers are able to send the intentionality of the communication between each other using will-energy waves. 3: despite the difference in language, the intention of the words are carried over perfectly to the recipient and they will understand the communication as it was intended. 4: likewise, the user will understand the recipient's communication with the same level of intentionality.

if both will-energy calibration and memetic conditioning are successful, then the received speaker will allow individuals with vastly different languages to communicate as if speaking the exact same dialect of the exact same language. they'll sense the communication almost instantly, and it'll be in their own voice, which can be a bit confusing to get used to. sarcasm and double-truth does not translate well using received speaker, which can be a good thing if you feel as if the individual you are communicating with is untrustworthy, but can be difficult when trying to tell a joke.

there are some issues with received speakers. first of all, they're single person use. you can't swap received speakers, or borrow them, or use one which has been used by another in the past. this is because calibration is very difficult to reverse. it's a very specialized task to reverse the calibration, and it takes a lot of time and energy. so once you've calibrated your received speaker, that's it. this also means that received speakers are a unrenewable resource. there is only so much material to make them, and there are more important things to use it for. for this reason, received speakers are often only provided to certain individuals. rrikrik was given one, as was some of the individuals they work with, but most of their crewmates do not use them.

different beings have different will-energy fields. even with the amplification that received speakers provide, some individuals just won't have the will-energy to broadcast their intention. some individuals also have high resistance to will-energy, and won't be able to receive the intention and often not be able to complete the calibration process. there is also the issue of memetic resistance. memetic resistance can be developed, but some people are just naturally resistant. for example, the sadum species is known for their memetic resistance. this makes sadum immune to cognitive diseases and other harmful things which spread via memetic transferral, but it also makes them immune to received speakers.

received speakers can also be very dangerous. if the memetic conditioning is replaced with a different sort of memetic conditioning, then a received speaker can be used to essentially brainwash or kill people.

#sci fi #alien species #speculative biology #alien biology #worldbuilding #xenobiology #oc #been working on this for ages orz... sorry if its confusing! the stuff with real energy/will energy is very difficult to describe #inspired by stuff that aconite @ / wolfsbane and thistle said about universal “translators” and sign language in this setting :3 #pls go follow them their worldbuilding is awesome and always an inspiration #oh yeah. the purple and blue cloud in the center of the first image is actually the ship's translator and linguist #theyre a gaseous based lifeform... in very early stages of development. and their name is sadly not writeable #and the other qoosai is epowi who manages food and materials on the ship

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bonebrokebuddy · 2 years

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Can you please do 13 if no one else has already :D

OH HOHO THIS IS A GOOD ONE

13) “You mean, you Don’t actually look human?!”

————

Kryptonians canonically have telepathic abilities or at the very least psionic abilities. We’ve talked about the ridiculousness of the silver age catch-all of Super-Hypnosis that Clark would use to make people forget his identity.

It’s one of the explanations DC made to explain why only a simple pair of eyeglasses made such a perfect disguise for Clark Kent the mild-mannered reporter, so no one would suspect he was Superman. Because in Superman # 330, Superman apparently unconsciously hypnotizes everyone who looks at him to making them believe that his face is different than Clark Kent’s.

This has absofuckinglutley been retconned out of existence since but consider, this helps with a fun concept and I also do not care because at one point it was cannon so that means I’m right.

Consider: It’s not just used for disguising reasons.

If it can influence how people perceive kryptonians look, maybe it could also influence people into thinking they looked more human than they actually did.

Now, one thing that’s repeated again and again in Kryptonian society is that they are upheld to the high standard of being at the “peak of physical and mental perfection.”

So, what if this mentality of needing to look at the expectation of physical perfection also transferred unconsciously?

And Because Clark does this unconsciously, that would mean that he looks just a little different to every single person who ever looked at him. So, everyone would see Superman as more of their standards of what they think “physical perfection” means. Now, this would:

Result in literally every person thinking that Superman is ridiculously attractive (this includes ace folks. I’m ace. Doesn’t mean I can’t look at someone and go “they’re hot.” because again, personal idea of physical perfection.)

Would be a great intro into a fun side plot of Jimmy being the definitive Superman photographer because not only did he get the first clear photo of Superman, the telekinetic perception doesn’t fully transfer digitally. In a true “eye of the beholder” fashion, whoever takes the image sets the image how they perceive it. So as Jimmy is the one who showed the world their first image of Superman, Jimmy’s perception of Superman would eventually become The Definitive View Of Superman as it’s just what people would expect Kal-El to look like & so his Superman form would eventually settle into the same form he took in Jimmy’s first few photos.

But that’s just when he’s in his Superman persona. When he’s Clark Kent, he is his own perception of what an “average human” looks like. His frame is still very tall & wide (I mean, there’s no getting around that. have you seen how they draw the guy? His shoulders are a mile long) but it’s filled out in a way that looks very natural for a farm boy from Kansas. Like one of those guys who don’t work out but regardless are fairly muscular & look like they can lift a cow. It so depending on the circumstance Clark looks like a gentle giant who everyone in the office asks to help them lift heavy objects or very intimidating when interrogating a corrupt CEO during an interview, using his height and large frame to tower over them in a looming manner.

In both forms he keeps the eye color, hair color, and rough build because otherwise it would look like he was clipping through objects to onlookers.

As this is an unconscious process, even Clark doesn’t know he’s doing it. He kinda knows in the back of his head but it’s just not something he’s ever registered with conscious thought.

With that in mind:

- The Justice League gets captured by a big bad.

- In addition to other security measures to prevent them from escaping, there is a machine that, while in range of it, it creates a mental block for telepaths and psionic abilities on influencing others. It is intended so J’onn cannot find the hidden location of the Justice League to free them.

- But that’s not the only effect it had.

- Suddenly Bruce is able to see what Clark Actually looks like

- But not just Bruce, Everyone in the Justice League that was trapped (take your pick of who) is now able to see the unnaturally saturated blue eyes in their real hue for the first time

- They are so bright that a camera nor any human technology or earthly pigment would ever be able to reproduce or fully capture the piercing shade of blue that stared straight through their being.

- And his too many perfectly straight and white teeth

- His eyes that now look too large to naturally sit on a human-reminiscent face

- Clark’s brow furrowed when he noticed everyone staring at him. the hinge of his jaw opened wider than what a human’s limitations would allow when he went to ask what was wrong

- the base of his voice is still just a touch too loud

-but underneath his voice is an unearthly booming quality with base just out of human perception but it still sent shivers down their spines as it resonated with the frequency of the room

- The tendons shifting under his skin bulge and twist in ways that seem like they shouldn’t fit under his skin and the placement of muscle groups visible under his suit looked like someone tried to reassemble a human from memory

- His features are just suddenly. Off. Distinctly something other.

The mental mask falls away and the Justice League is able to see the slight wrongness about clark.

It's not the fact that he's a alien that makes their necks prickle, it's the age old instinct of something that looks enough like a human but you just know it's not.

And the ensuing chaos Would Be Fucking Amazing

Because, again, Clark Himself Doesn't Know He’s Doing It.

Addon that I was going to branch off of but decided to leave out of the final cut:

I feel like Bruce would honestly be relieved. It would answer a ton of his questions. Especially seen in Anatomy of a Metahuman, Bruce expresses extreme bafflement over How The Fuck Clark is so human-like despite being an alien. The fact that this would confirm his existing theory littered in small notes on the sides of his drawings in that book that Clark uses some kind of psionics for his powers, would be a huge relief because he finally has answers to how Clark works. Now he can apply proper adjustments to his contingency plans to account for this new discovery.

I just really enjoy the idea that Clark only looks human at first glance but when you take a moment to look at him closely, you can tell that something’s distinctly off about the guy.

#dc #superman #clark kent #dc comics #justice league #Batman #bruce wayne #kryptonian biology #bones replies #bones writes #ty twin <3 #superbat #or at least you absolutley could spin it as superbat #writing promots #dc writing prompt #prompt #alien biology

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fetlockflowers · 7 months

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Speculative Biology animation for the Cardassians.

#star trek #my art #wip #work in process #star trek ds9 #spec evo #alien biology #speculative Biology #ds9 #deep space nine #cardassians #cardassia #animation

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zineobiology · 14 days

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We need Klingons!!

Do you have opinions on klingon forehead ridges? Maybe about redundant organs? What about the composition of their blood that makes it that nice bright pink? We need you!

We are looking for some writers who would like to write some speculative biology about Klingons, so if that's right up your alley apply here!

If you're asking yourself "what is this?" check this out!

#klingon #star trek #zine #xenobiology #alien biology #zine o'biology #fake academic journal

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justletmeramble1701 · 1 month

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After 14's tenure and how they have been headcanoned as "he/they", how do you gender 13? I keep thinking about one of her first lines "Why are you calling me madame?" I know that the joke is that the Doctor has never been a woman before so they aren't used to being called "madame" yet, but, I don't know, something about it seems telling.

When 11 regenerated and thought he was a woman, he panicked. Being a woman instinctively felt wrong, but thirteen felt confusion at being identified with a female honorific. It wasn't exactly a negative reaction, but it wasn't exactly positive a positive one either. It was just kind of neutral. That's not me saying she dislikes being a woman, there are many moments when she revels in it (Demons of the Punjab comes to mind), but those moments also come with new experiences, so who knows.

Now that 14 said that his gender was "the Doctor" (if one reads into the subtext of the pronouns conversation between him and Beep the Meep as that, it could just be read as just a joke), do we think 13 actually identify as a woman or does she just accept that she looks like one, so humans will call her one. She doesn't dislike or like it, she just accepts it.

I don't know if this actually means anything. This could be just another example of Time Lords being a confusingly gender fluid species, but it hasn't left my brain.

If this line of thinking holds, what does it mean for other incarnations? Would 4 care about such a "human" concept? 9 is so uncomfortable around other men. It reads as both the male territorial way and the female threat aversion way. How do 2, 6, and 12 feel about their own gender based on their vibe (I don't know how else to phrase it)?

Again, Time Lords have been presented as a strange form of gender fluid since, I believe, the wilderness years, so who's to say how the Doctor feels about this topic at any given time.

I don't think I actually said anything with this post, but who knows, what do you guys think?

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demonsplendor · 5 months

Text

18+ reader x alien - “Collector” (NSFT) Pt 2.2

Pt 2.2/3

In an effort to learn more about the ejaculation of large masses, you land an unbelievable contact: an alien sex symbol named Orion Mar. He graciously accepts your request to study him and invites you to watch.

CW: mentions of dysmorphia, sounding

Masturbation and voyeurism ahoy

Word count: 4.3k

pt 1 pt 2.1

+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

A few days later and you’re buzzed into the entrance of a beautiful condominium complex.

In the lobby is Orion Mar.

You felt so sheepish walking up to him, there was no need for any, “Excuse me, I’m looking for someone by the name Orion.” Everyone in here knows who he is

Anyone anywhere would.

Nobody bothered him though.

Anyone that was in the lobby minded their own business, barely even looking up when you approached the undeniably model-like alien.

“Hi, I’m from…”

“The email.”

He was confident but not unkind, stretching out his hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m Orion.”

You think about how redundant it feels to hear him introduce himself, there was no mystery, but it grounds you in a way that helps steel your nerves. You felt so awkward and ashamed coming in here but it’s clear that he’s professional.

“Nice to meet you Orion,” you introduce yourself while returning his handshake.

Everything about him was huge, you nearly had to crane your neck to look up at him. His hand engulfed yours but his handshake was only firm but gentle, not something meant to strangle your hand though you could feel he easily could.

“We can go up to my room now, if you’re ready.”

“Your room?”

“Yes, my condo?”

Your head reels.

“Wait you’re taking me to your home?”

“Where did you think you were?”

“I…” you look around, not exactly sure what you thought. “A set…?”

“Oh no, if we were on a set, we wouldn’t be able to talk.” He sees your wandering eyes and deer-in-headlights expression. “I’m sorry for misunderstanding what you were asking for in your email.”

“No, no, I mean—okay hearing it out loud… but you’re not wrong. That’s not really what I was surprised by.”

He laughs a lofty sound, you try to back pedal more.

“I didn’t mean it like that either but… anyways, you just met me, just now, and this is literally where you live.”

“Yes, but I didn’t get the sense that you would be taking advantage of that by your email.”

You didn’t want to speak up even if that were true, but you did feel like this was already going far down south. You were out of your element and this was a mistake.

“I get a lot of messages and propositions that I do nothing with, or smile and ‘thank you for your support’ and move on. I am not so reckless.”

“I will treat you with the same respect and professionalism as thought it were a set. Functionally, it is, but it will not have the rigmarole of many extra people that I would need to prioritize paying attention to. I would not really be able to answer questions, and even if you were just there for the,” “demonstration. It would have been through a screen. Monitors. No different than what you could have already done at home.”

You’re taken aback at how coolly he articulated his point and how he didn’t beat around the bush. He didn’t seem shy in the slightest, or weirded out by the idea of you being here to… watch him. Ugh. Even thinking about the reality of the situation was enough to send you spiraling. But he was also being really patient, way more patient than you would have expected someone to be in his position.

“Thank you for being considerate, and for taking me seriously. I admit that… I feel embarrassed by my email. I’m also clearly out of my element, but I think I have my bearings now….”

“It’s okay, it make it very obvious that you’re not paparazzi, or a tabloid writer, or some dangerous, raving, fan.”

“No, not at all! But I need you to know too, that I’m also not like a professional scientist either.”

He sounded wolffish, “There is definitely an peculiar element to this that is of interest to me. I understand what I’m signing up for.”

You’re not sure if you do, but you don’t want to belabor further and take up anymore of his time than needed.

He leaves the ball in your court, and though you still don’t feel very confident, you shakily muster up, “Okay, I’m on the same page as you. I’m, um, ready…”

“Good, follow me.”

You walk past a table of people, the front desk, other staff, and even after your conversation, still nobody pays you any mind.

You’re the first to get into the elevator, your neck nearly at a 90 degree angle as you start to remark on the inside, “Woah, the ceiling is so tall—“ and you realize when Orion gets in that he would have had to be ducking in a normal elevator.

He sounds amused, “That’s one of the reasons I chose this building. I’m able to fit everywhere.”

“Wow, even you have clearance above your head.”

“Yes, much more comfortable than cramped human elevators.”

You want to ask more, but there is no time as the doors open to his floor. Well, you would have thought it was his floor, you imagined this building must be laid out like a hotel or apartment but it wasn’t.

You walk out of the elevator right into Orion Mar’s home.

It was large, spacious, and tidily sparse in the way that you would see rich people’s homes in movies. If you looked hard enough though, you’d see little pockets of personality. A collection of rubber ducks was prominently displayed on a floating shelf, an incomprehensibly large bean bag chair lie next to the couch, an entire wall coated in Polaroid photos like at a bar or venue—images of him and others.

“Would you like anything before we begin, water or anything?”

“Oh thank you, could I please have water?”

He pulls out two bottles of water from the fridge and walks over to hand you one. You’re thankful for the sip you take after opening it, feeling a little restored and no longer dry throated.

“We will be in here,”

He leads you into an open room that looks like what you were imagining a set to look like. There were post-mounted lights, three different cameras, a bed, and a stool with what looked to be a pile of fluffy blankets on the floor beneath.

You’re off to the side looking at another part of the room when you turn around and see Orion unbuttoning his shirt while he stands near the chair in the front. You are stunned and bewildered, not knowing what you were expecting at all but definitely not him getting unclothed?

But once again, you’re instilled with a little more calm when he speaks in a technical tone, “I will be here, you may sit in the chair across. If that is too direct for you, you can move the chair somewhere more comfortable, to the side or so.”

This is like clockwork to him, that has to, and does, count for something. You nod and walk over to the chair, keeping it right in line with his. You sit down while he still fusses with his remaining buttons. When he finally shakes off his shirt, you feel flush and blurt out, “What exactly is this room?”

“Ah, it’s to practice. Lighting, how things look on camera. Sometimes with newer actors.”

You have trouble making sense of this information while also looking at him. He looked like the glow of celebritydom just standing in the lobby, but now that you started to see… more of him in this particular environment…

He had broad plates, but was still quite lithe. His sternum and the top of his belly had the softest looking connective flesh, something that didn’t really convey over camera and certainly not something you ever saw the other actors take advantage of with kneads or touches.

When he began to undo his pants, you had to choke down another sip of water. He makes a careening sound, one that you know is similar to laughter.

“Are you okay? Is this still okay?”

You are thankful that he keeps a pulse on the situation but you also feel so bad and juvenile that you’re causing him to feel like you should be babysitting you.

“Yes, it is—I am. Is everyone on sets just… entirely desensitized?”

“For the most part. It doesn’t stand out to me anymore, but I imagine how it might look to someone, you for example, to have the director cut. I’m inside of someone, and the director will walk up to me to give me a note. To tell me something like, ‘angle your torso towards the camera more’ and then I do it, I make the correction as soon as they roll again.”

You appreciated how he talked about his craft, how it was innately sexual in nature, but he did not sensationalize it nor did he say anything suggestive towards you.

When he shakes off his pants, and sees your face crinkle, he tries to provide you another distraction, “Your boyfriend cannot come?” He inquisitively chitters a sound that you’re incapable of repeating but it’s widely recognized and known, the name of the aliens.

“Yes, it disturbs him. He had a few times when he was younger, enough to I guess figure out that he didn’t like it.”

“But you figured out some workaround?”

“Yes… of sorts.”

“Does that mean, I’m sorry if it’s too forward,” you think the contrast of being asked this while his thumb is in the band of his underwear to be very funny, “you don’t have sex?”

“No,” you don’t mind it, you really don’t, but you can’t help the tone that you have right now. One that lets him know that you don’t mind but you still feel inadequate for it, “we don’t.”

“Hmm. Well, hopefully we can shed some light. You need to see the sperm deposit, that’s what you said?”

“Yes, to see it pass… whole…”

Your throat feels dry again, your face returning to a crumpled expression while you take another sip of water.

He can tell by your disposition that it’s now or never. He didn’t come off as lecherous, just a little bit cocky when he confirms, “Well, we can definitely do that.”

There is no pomp and circumstance, he takes off his underwear in one fell swoop, his flaccid cock nearly spilling out. When he turns around to set all of his clothes on top of the bed, even the tips of your ears turn red when you see the backside of him; plates on his thighs and lower back that were bridged by beautifully stretched ligament. You know that he can see your expression, how you’re trying to look up at the ceiling from the corner of your eye when he sits down in front of you on the stool, his legs spread slightly.

Your eyes keep wandering in his direction, all over his body with keen interest towards the in between of his legs in particular, but you dart them away just as quickly.

“You can look at me, watch. Isn’t that the point?”

He’s right, that was the point.

You try to adopt a brave expression, nodding as though you’re a program manager approving a deviation, and fix your eyes in his direction. You still feel embarrassed no matter where you look so you oscillate your vision up and down the length of him, but at least you’re not looking off to the side.

Just as soon as you felt some composure, you felt it all slip away when he grabs the base of his clock and begins to rub along the length of it. You see him grow considerably, hardening to his touch. You had seen him masturbate before, well on your computer, where he would coldly stare unflinching into the camera. But while he was at his beginnings now, you can see him buck into his hand, the early sensations coursing through him.

“What is it?” He asks you this by surprise.

You’re bewildered, “What?”

“Your face.” He’s almost entirely hard now, you’re unnerved to lock eyes with him while he uses long, slow, mounting, movements. He’s able to tease himself into utter arousal while keeping up conversation with a stranger, “You just had an expression, like puzzled.”

You cannot handle being put on the spot right now, your mind blank.

He waits for your reply, his eye contact unsevered but you must glance to the side for any hope of recovering yourself.

“Oh…” It comes back to you, “You don’t see the beginning in your videos, right, so all you look is… unflinching. But you looked, just then… um…” You trail off but luckily he gets your point.

Unluckily, he does not let this go by unacknowledged.

His eyes flash and there’s a low droning sound from his abdomen before he teases, “Oh. So you are a fan.”

His cock began to excrete the slimy, drool-like wetness that it produced on its own. You couldn’t be sure if it was purely coincidental that it happened now, but you knew that he was now on the pathway towards finishing.

Your voice rasped, “I’ve seen… some… of your videos…”

“Mm, for research only, right?”

His slickness added a whole new auditory element to this, you’re struggling to get through a sentence while he doesn’t skip a beat in silently creating a rhythmically squishing noise. Now he was like the videos, he was all but perfectly still and stroked himself while his body unconsciously tensed and flexed, all while he looked right at you.

This felt all by the book when you got here, but you don’t even know what book that would be, you were unprepared and just prey lying exposed in the fox’s den. You were not a professional, you had no hopes of going into this and leaving it feeling only a a clinical sense of know how.

That was made abundantly clear by the terribly ragged noise you made in response to his question. He laughs haughtily, there’s no way that he doesn’t know you feel humiliated. That by you still sitting there, by your staggered, craven, expression that you kind of enjoyed it.

He lets you off the hook a bit by asking you, “What is this method that you have mentioned, that you currently use?”

You pause before launching into an explanation, marveling at how measured he sounded. Your eyebrows furrow as your mind wanders down a rabbit hole, taking hold onto a newfound curiosity. You don’t think that you’d be able to chat while you masturbated, much less being able to orchestrate the tone of it. He seemed to be able to gauge how you’re feeling, and using it as the indicator for how he should steer.

He wagers a guess by your expression, offering something up preemptively, “I haven’t always been comfortable doing something like this in front of people, in front of cameras. And certainly not with call and response.”

“And now? It’s.. routine?”

“Yes, mostly.”

You still cannot get over that the moments that would otherwise be filled with awkward silence were filled with the sounds of him rutting into his hand.

“Isn’t it distracting though? Are you able to still feel… um… aroused?”

He does the crudest gesture yet, spreading his legs wider and pushing his hips forward. While he continues to pump himself with one hand, he waves his other hand to point to it, “Obviously.”

A paltry sip of water cannot hope to save you, you outright bury your face in your hands and shake your head.

He laughs, the rhythm of his time actually has been interrupted, he struggles to reign himself in, choking out with guttural, sticky, laughter, “Oh no, I am so sorry.”

You feel for a moment like you have it within you to get up and leave but you don’t feel threatened by your situation. You’re just such a consummate novice.

You look up with just your eyes, you can feel them be preemptively glossy and puffy, you see him slow down to almost a standstill entirely when you meekly say, “It’s okay…” You quickly take inventory of the situation, imagining how you look and the effect it’s seeming to have on him and remove your hands entirely, revealing a smirk peeking through your very apparent shame. You say it again more confidently, nodding towards him with a greedy glance down towards his still consistent, but now slowed, touching, “I’m okay.”

He remains in good spirits but eyes you before he begins picking up speed again. It’s wordless but you think that he must be taking stock of all of this on his end, you’re hoping that you didn’t blow it. You hope that he won’t stop.

You wonder if that made its way onto your face, because he begins working on himself again, the rhythmic schlep returning.

“Just keep talking to me. It’ll help you, focusing on something else at the same time.”

“Okay,” you like that he’s working with you. You try your best to not break under the pressure again, “when he can feel it start to build up, I insert a sounding rod to pierce them.”

“Ugh.”

He shudders, he shudders all the way from within his core. He uncomfortably shifts on the stool, the slick sounds stilling altogether for a moment before he regains composure.

“I’m sorry, I was just… not expecting that. ” he shudders again, this time accompanied by a frantic chittering of his mandibles, but punctuated with laughter. Like he was surprised at himself, “Ah. You may fancy whatever you please, there is no judgement but,” he gives one more final jolt of disdain. He had broken eye contact with you and let his eyes go elsewhere while he imagined your words. Going by his previous account of working on a set or receiving notes, you’re sure this would have been frowned upon.

You flinch when he snaps his eyes back to you, powering onward.

“And then after that, he is able to come?”

“Yes, it’s still viscous and resistant, but I don’t know… About a month ago, we tried without piercing one so that I could see and… it went so badly.”

“You’re trying to see so that he will be able to?”

“Yes.”

“Is it to have sex?”

“No. No, he… Even if it wasn’t physically uncomfortable, it’s more than that. He doesn’t want to… to…” It’s too much to say, it’s too embarrassing for you to say out loud.

“He’s repulsed by the idea of filling another?”

You feel winded, nothing but white hot shame claws at you from within.

“Correct.”

“Where do you stand on the matter?”

It makes you almost angry how easy it is for him to say and ask and answer pointed questions. How could you possibly answer that in a way that truly did it justice? It probably was a simple question to him, answerable by something brief, but you just sit there silent and fuming.

He can see the desperation painted on your face, he says knowingly but not cruelly, “Ah. I see.”

You’re ready to launch into upset, but he begins to move more rapidly, having to shake his hand once to remove it of the excess slime that began to coat his hand entirely. You once again see a crack in his facade when he initially takes on this increased pace, the wet, slapping sound growing fervent. It takes you out of your head for a moment, at least about what you were talking about. You do not try to hide your hard stare as you watch with complete attention towards his heady touching. He was quick, but not aggressive. He did not treat his cock as though he were trying to descale a fish, brandishing it, swinging it wildly. No, he treated himself kindly and reverently, gripping with just enough firmness to not slip off of himself by accident.

You were shameless then, but you can feel yourself grimace when you glance up and see that he’s been watching you. He keeps you here, eyes preoccupied within his instead back to him below while all you could hear was the unmistakable sound and all you could see in the corner of his eyes was the movement of his shoulder.

He intends to let you off the hook, his breath hitching when he finally speaks, “It’s okay to like things even if your lover does not.”

The need to justify yourself is unshakeable.

“It feels too wrong. That’s not why I want to help him but I would be lying if I tried to say that wasn’t part of my…. I don’t know. Eagerness? He considers sperm removal, but wants to try collecting just once. I don’t want him to be miserable, I don’t want to try us having sex, I want him to get the procedure. No matter what I feel though, or try to suggest, or even do… it all feels selfish! Do I try to encourage him towards procedure so that he won’t hate me? Do I help him by any means necessary, justify it to myself like that while I engage in… in “research”, in… this?” You emptily gesture to the room, worried that you’ve been a catastrophic buzzkill yet fraught with relief for saying it out loud to someone.

“Everything everyone does is a little selfish. It’s almost impossible to be impartial yet helpful.”

He sounded a little stilted and out of breath, it was getting harder for him to speak without any affect caused by his impending orgasm. Yet he remained engaged with you and what you’re saying, replying thoughtfully instead of with something bogusly throwaway.

“Mm, for collection huh. I can show you something for that too.”

You inquisitively raise your eyebrows but remain silent as he appears to be unraveling right in front of your eyes.

“Which, as I’m sure you can te—mmhh,” your eyes are as wide as saucers as you see him shift again, his hips nearly lifting off of the stool entirely when he bucks, “—tell, I’m close.”

This was the whole point of this meeting, this moment here, but you can’t not feel anything but total shock. You feel shy, aroused, and utterly out of place.

“You can come near. See up close.”

You knew that time was not on your side, that you needed to make a decision now. You think you would have declined but there was no lilt to his voice, nothing salacious, it was just straight forward. And this is why you were here, right?

You stand up shakily, unnerved that he continues to maintain eye contact while you move closer to him. How can someone get used to doing this day to day? You guess you can see how anything could be reduced to getting easier over time, especially if it was routine, but you can’t imagine ever getting used to this.

While sitting on the stool he’s only marginally taller than you, your eyes line up without you having to crane your neck. Now that you were face to face with him so closely, you didn’t know how to look back down at his hammering, wet hand.

“Do not if too much,” he starts but must take a moment in order to not let another intense wave blur into his words, “or if already known to you, but there is a precursor sensation that you can notice.”

“What is it?”

“Place your fingers onto the tip.”

You’re not sure if you heard incorrectly, are misunderstanding, and balk, “Excuse me?”

“”Research”. I’m not trying to trick you into touching me, it is not for sexual gratification.”

Is this really still passable as research? You test the limits of the idea and gently place your first three fingertips onto the split of his cock, feeling the cool, sticky slime that coated it into a sheen. You do your best to not apply any pressure, as though that maintains you as being direct, but he acts in a similar manner, not pushing into your hand.

“It’s about—about now. They begin to build up.”

You begin to feel the tip pulse, the opening expanding and contracting very slightly. You hadn’t felt this before, normally you kept one hand on the base of your partner while you kept your other one free to reach for the rod.

You sound the most confident you had yet, not finding this so much titillating as much as you found it fascinating, “It’s… like dilating?”

“Yes.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No. Not me. I can feel it though.”

You wonder if it was something your partner felt but didn’t know or acknowledge. This alone might be an angle to explore, maybe you could help coax or relax. Without thinking, you press into Orion’s solid, fleshy, tip and roll your fingers apart to knead into him once and spread him further.

It sends an immediate reaction through him, he lets out a small moan and fights against bucking. You didn’t mean to, you remove your hand just as quickly.

At the same time: him panted, you mortified, “Sorry.”

He laughs and it releases the tension that you feel at least, his relaxed chittering feels reassuring.

He sounds tense but still clear, “Don’t be,” he sees you eye him, your expression muddled with confusion as he cautions, “but touching me like that again would count as involvement.”

You can see it swell again, creating an even wider chasm and it makes you want to return your fingers to feel it grow but you abstain.

Being up close like this, you can see things that are not captured on camera. Like how his thighs are pulsing, gently shaking. The ligament between the plates on his arms rippled.

“You can collect the first with your hand.”

You squirm in a way that you hope he doesn’t notice, or at least won’t comment on if he did.

Your heart beats too fast, you try to not sound so eager when you ask, “How?”

#terato #exophilia #alien boyfriend #alien biology #reader x monster #human x monster #alien x reader #monster nsft #alien nsft #monsterfucking nsft #voyerurism #original writing

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Selective breeding of viperhounds by the Txepiva clans

The Txepiva clans, also known in some parts as the Ash People, have no ikran and no pa'li. They are long distance runners and hunters, often on the move. Many of them are nomadic pastoralists, a practice unknown among the rest of the known Na'vi.

Their habitat, in turn bleak and burnt or rich and green, rarely forms anything close to a forest. The clans are always on the move, frequently fighting over territory, and yet regularly meeting with others in great gatherings. The largest, meant to reunite all the disparate Txepiva clans, is called the Tsawlultxa, and is the perfect opportunity to discover and study the stunning variety of Nìsayntang.

Just like mankind adopted wolves and turned them into dogs, the Txepiva adopted the plains' viperwolves. Millenia of selective breeding created the Nìsayntang, which the RDA catalogues as viperhounds.

Most neighbouring clans outside the Txepiva look down on breeding, preferring to go in the wild to capture their own mounts. We're left to understand it verges on taboo. As usual, the Txepiva seem to hardly care or take notice of their neighbours' distaste.

The relative isolation of each clan has allowed for the development of several subtypes of Nìsayntang.

Some clans have hounds whose forward arms have evolved to grab prey, while in others it's the secondary pair, with the elongated fingers of the hand coming back to fold over the rib cage in a position reminiscent of the stunbat's secondary arms.

Another clan breeds specifically for hunting in low light visibility.

Here are some examples of breeds of Nìsayntang!

The most standard breed type, seen all across the plateaus and plains. They reach up to a Na'vi's knees or higher, much like a greyhound for humans. They're excellent runners and hunt as a pack, keenly aware of the Na'vi hunters movements. They can carry and manipulate objects with the prehensile limbs that have retracted against their chests. It's most commonly the middle pair of limbs, but as we'll soon see, some clans have bred hounds whose frontal limbs are the ones that evolved to hold and grab.

Nìsayntang are intelligent creatures, keen to help, and capable of understanding complex orders, especially through tsaheylu. This agile breed, quick on its feet, is favoured by the clans that raise srä‘etnaw (the livestock at the source of aforementioned pastoralism).

They'll assist their Na'vi with crafts, carrying things across the camp, leading scouting missions and reporting what they see, or for the best trained one, even hold the meat before it gets grilled! They also use their hands to grab stray srä‘etnaw pups and bring them back into the fold.

The facial appendages of Nìsayntang are flexible sensory organs. They help them sense their environment, but also play a major role in how they communicate between pack members. Think of the way wolves communicate with their ears, back on Earth.

This variation is quite rare, and bred by a single tribe that favours night-time hunting and lives along black volcanic cliffs and lava fields. It's one of the darkest environments known in Pandora, especially during eclipse.

Their Nìsayntang have greater control of their natural bioluminescence, granting them better camouflage. Like a cuttlefish fooling its prey, they can modulate and increase the bioluminosity, creating alluring displays. The sensory strangeness causes their prey to freeze, equally curious and confused, and now vulnerable to ambush.

The stem-nisayntang were quite the genetically diverse and chaotic bunch, and the Na'vi of the Ash clans have been practising selective breeding on them for far longer than humans have with dogs.

This is an example of the aforementioned breeds in which it's the foremost limbs that have developed to extend and grab. It's the largest of the breeds presented in this study, as large to a Na'vi as a lion to humans, and aptly nicknamed "Leonin Hound" by first contact researchers. Their huge, heavy arms make them ambush predators, preferring bursts of speed and action to their cousins' long distance running. Their hands aren't as nimble or crafty, each fingers closer to sharp, robust talons.

They have serrated teeth that tear through muscle and cartilage with unsettling ease. Their bite can even cut through most of the natural keratinous armour of Pandoran animals.

Their bodies are covered in bristles that help them sense vibrations in the air and ground. Those keen senses and efficient ambush tactics have gained them a reputation as “All-knowing guard hounds” among travellers who’ve met their keepers.

Despite the fearsome appearance and size, their pack mentality, as well as their ability to bond with their entire clan, make them desirable playmates for children, and it's not rare to see a couple of Txepiva youngsters tasked to guard toddlers and younger children, doing so with the help of their hounds. It's also quite common for them to ride on their back. Despite what a human might think of such a sight, it's as safe and natural to the Txepiva as riding an ilu as a child is for the Metkayina.

Bred to fend off the fearsome wildlife of the plains, the Leonin hounds are fiercely efficient at it and seem to have had their sense of fear bred right out of them. As such, they're one of the most widespread breeds in the plains. A handful of clans produce pups, and some are then traded at the great yearly Txepiva gathering. A clan might have their own specialised breed that has been living alongside them for untold generations, and still keep a couple of the Leonin hounds to help safeguard their camps.

Part I of @straydaddy (art and design) and @bluedaddysgirl (lore concept) in-world collaborative study, "Introduction to the Txepiva clans, their nomadic pastoralism and niche selective breeding practices in species of stingbats and viperwolves". On twitter we are Knarme and Bluedaddysgirl

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