Quake

STAR//CROSSED 11: Red Haehn
and
STAR//CROSSED 12: Zhelv Meyaat

as the dust settles, so do the people of the interstellar community. a chance to breathe, to consider, and to look to a future brighter than any other on its horizon.

written for a dear friend's birthday. @flyfeline and their partner. :]

Hanaa jingled like a passing parade as she walked into the Café Demyemod. The silvery chain that hung at her waist rattled with every deliberately inelegant stomp of her boots, the buttons on her shirt clacked together like a one-man band about to start, and her four-eyed mask gleamed a shocking, shadowy gold as the single yellow light in the diner reflected off it. She was a Pael of steel and metal, leather and denim, some kind of hardcore cunt that took some classic Terran punk aesthetics to the functional peak.

Visibly full of intent, the Pael strode up to her girlfriend, an equally tall Pael name Vamvyy. Though the latter was a northern Pael, the two always looked eye to eye when standing, if not in personality.

Every other AAntegian in the place would have been a full head shorter.

When the black-clad punk Pael stopped right next to Vamvyy’s side, the latter was already a dreamy mess. She had her maskless face in all four of her hands, mandibles and tentacles hanging loose and her eyes milky with an overactive imagination.

“Hey, babe,” Hanaa muttered slyly, “you’re staring.”

"How can I not?” Vamvyy replied dreamily.

Hanaa sighed out a low chuckle, one whose tail end disappeared under the gentle creak of tough denem when she leaned in over her seated, smitten partner. She was an easy target, flustered and warm behind her carapace, with a light, patchy blue forming at her mandibles and at the bases of her tentacles showing her delight and love and embarrassment. The punk double checked to make sure her observations were correct.

Vamvyy’s entire body went stiff as a plate as the towering punk lifted a single hand, her right burdened, to press her palm against the sloping curve of her lower face. She felt Hanaa’s dermal bumps run along the thin seams that divided her natural armor’s segments, each so delicate that they tingled at the feather-light touch. Then, Hanaa used both of her thumbs to squeeze either mandible and cup Vamvyy’s tentacles into her palm, and the seated Pael simply fell into the feelings.

When Vam opened her eyes again, she got to stare directly at Hanaa’s masked face, her copper-tipped hair framing her face, illuminated from behind by the artificial light. She practically glowed with a halo of her own locks. Hanaa turned her head slightly and the sound of groaning fabric once again filled the air as she leaned in.

And then they kissed.

A long, lingering embrace, propelled almost entirely by Hanaa. She pulled Vamvyy’s head forward and slid her tentacles purposefully between Vamvyy’s limp mouthparts, interlace them, and gently squeezed. When the punk pulled away, she moved in again just to gently peck Vamvyy’s mandibles, left, then right.

“You’re so cute. Happy birthday.”

Hanaa’s voice curled with warm, effeminate raspiness through her partner’s antenna.

Vamvyy melted, and disappeared, soaked into the earth wherever strode that beauty.

They had a wonderful date that night.

2024
Pael species by @quakeroc
You can read their story here

the art is by @jiblemeza