#moth alien

Fuzzy alien moth AU version of Noir. Because Spaaaaceeee fantasy is fun.

I drew some of my ocs as meme things i found on Pinterest 😼

“Eat the damn food!” Ӓr’kān’s growl is low, tone gravelly. 

Ears and connecting fins pull back in her impatience, as he thrusts the plate with a fish across the bar top. At the hungry, stubborn moron sitting beside them. 

“Bought it ‘so you’d fuckin’ eat an’ quit gawkin’ at my supper.” 

Ӓr’kān speaks, before going on to chow down on their own Giant Redlina, about almost done. As she observes Śhadō who is quiet again. 

This time peering at the extra plate. Like the dead aquatic, grew two more head’s. Right before those beautiful shiny black faded dark emerald green and peach-pink eyes.

It’s taken Ӓr’kān a moment to figure out the differences in their species’ ways of expressing things. More so than it was even close to hard trying to understand the Lepíspterón language, with no working translation between their species. 

Again, just another of the million reasons to love being an Aquatic, Ӓkˈtäˈpəd. It took their species little to learn unfamiliar languages, and almost all of them were pronounceable through their speech.

The Lepíspterón Tribe, Pectō Victima, or at least this single-member named Śhadō wasn’t doing half bad himself. He still stumbled on Ӓkˈtäˈpə words that had no equivalent translation in his dialect or any dialect or primary language known to their species; as far as either was aware of...

Śhadō’s antennae pulled up in alert, then drew backwards towards their false feather scale pony. Before he pulled them closer to his head, in mock anger; antennae almost now hidden in the feathers.

The period of silence broke between them as he spoke up in his native dialect. “Śhadō will take no such-”

… Making it even more fun for this Aquatic when their Insectoid attempted to mimic whatever Ӓr’kān attempted to say. And what she’d said was uncivilized. Something about the Lepíspterón or his thieving Moth subgroup or even his war made siblings and Śhadō; even as  stuck up and nasty hearted as he’d described his culture as did not have in their native tongue. 

“- fuck’ing actions!” and finished in Ӓkˈtäˈpə, with his upper lip stretched up over sharp, serrated black teeth; to bear his annoyance, rather than any genuine anger directed at Ӓr’kān. 

Which reminded him of the species Se​la​kē; whose Kiŋdəm had been to the right of her own. A best friend in honourment of their species they’ve not seen since forced to flee their home and all those she loved.

Looking as the Pectō Victima’s stunned silence in the wake of being thrown off by the show of affection and hospitality’s had warned off. Ӓr’kān prepared for the shit storm he will throw in its wake. 

Affection had been something shocking to learn Śhadō nor any of his species held a previous history. It was just everything Ӓr’kān grew up on had been about devotion, tenderness and the respect between family and for your people. She had felt as if he had been the only one of their species to have an ugly and dark side.

Even with her Octopade parents not being as prevalent within his life. They’d always had her older Octopade sibling to love him, and then she got to love a wonderful little codling sibling. When everything Ӓr’kān had ever held, gone. It was the Ratz who had taken that job of comfort and affection. Before that dark hole devoured everything, creating this being, this them they called, Bounty Hunter Ӓr’kān.  

Although, after having learned about what Lepíspterón’s siblings were like, what one had done to him and with all the stories forced fed into making Pectō Victima who he is today. On top of Śhadō's personality, engraving betrayal, from his own family. It was no wonder the chaotic, nasty, fluffy gremlin did not understand what it was like to have anybody genuinely care about them. Or to sprinkle you with pleasant things without needing that suspicion of ulterior motives connected to keep you alive.

Though, in all the time that this Ӓkˈtäˈpəd had known them. Never stopped Śhadō from being someone with an abundance of love to give. And for somebody who’d never known it existed or experienced it. The crazy bastard’s reverence and care for his insect pets were some of the deepest of ties. 

Ties, Ӓr’kān has only ever seen between Ӓkˈtäˈpəd Ŕȯiəl siblings. It went beyond the willingness to die or live to protect and love them and to think this overgrown moth did it all for these tiny squishy unintelligent creatures.

It is too bad for everybody else. - Notably, those Śhadō defined as Humanoid, which was everything and anybody. Something Ӓr’kān is slowly trying to fix, as they had no idea what that species is. Outside, the fairy tales told in space of a horrible cryptic race that as far as anybody knows doesn’t even exist. - Were not worthy of that love, them being included it seemed for some universal awful reason.

So it is a splendid thing Ӓr’kān, thought, she defied all common logic and universal truths and could be just as stupidly obstinate as he ~ or just plain stupid, depends on whoever you asked. That he knew the two of them would work. If nothing else, she’d become the only friend this grumpy killer thief has ever or may ever have to trust.

Snarling back at Śhadō; which is not a normal sound for a Ӓkˈtäˈpəd, and had been something she’d picked up aboard Ratz. Ӓr’kān spoke up, “Fine, starve, I’ll eat yo’r food too,” and turned away to do just that. As he bluntly ignored the most adorable sound Ӓr’kān’s ever heard. 

An offended high pitched squeaking or squeaking for any reason should be illegal. They should have the right to arrest, detain and devour Śhadō in -

Thoughts of unholiness screeched to a halt. As a large, warm, looming body shoved Ӓr’kān aside. Forcing her to grip the other side of the bar top, to keep from falling off the stool. 

“HaA’A~” 

Their voice pitching high, choked off mid surprise, as three cool metal digits from the thief’s prosthetic arm wrapped around their wrist, moving her hand away from Ӓr’kān’s mouth. 

All eight of their eyes attempted to see what the other was doing. But Śhadō’s magnificent form blocked their view. He could only sense a heavy rhythmic heat ghosting over her hand for a split moment, before. …

The noise of flesh and tendons being torn, bone being crushed covered the atmospheric sounds of the shady Bounty bar they were in.   

Alerting not only the other living things, but Ӓr’kān. Before the sickening splosh of blood pouring over-the-counter cuts off the rest of the room, daring to continue on with what they’re doing. 

At first, the Aquatics whole being is in shock with the actions of Śhadō. The pain hasn’t really caught up to him, and then it does, and the scream sticks to the rear of Ӓr’kān’s throat. Along with the failure of words, at having a piece of themselves stolen, with the fish she’d been holding.

It’s not until Śhadō’s noisily devouring his meal filters in. That Ӓr’kān’s wide eyes dart up from the missing extremity to glance at their companion. Whose lightly furred black cheeks bulge with his fresh mouthful. Lips, chin and parts of the omnivorous moth’s cheeks stained in the purple essence of a Ӓkˈtäˈpəd’s bodily existence, that she snaps out of their stunned silence.

“THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?” The screech of vocals a decibel close enough to shatter glass.

Śhadō jumps, large four wings spreading out slightly as their chest puffs out to make them look larger, as their eyes widen in shock, antennae now laying across their head and tucked away in their plumes in aggression. Looking close to jumping right through, Ӓrˈ’kān; who craves nothing more at this moment than beat the other into a gory pulp, before revising that plan.

She brought this upon himself challenging a being as twisted up inside like this.  

Instead, they concentrate on the original issue. 

Vocals low and gravely again, yet still yelled in anger. “GIVE THAT BACK!” All thoughts to why the Bounty Hunter would not wish the piece back far from their thoughts.

The six-foot beast towering over their barley 5’11 height, even standing a stool away, is back to chewing contentedly. Looking so very proud of himself at the moment. That has Ӓrˈkān rendered speechless, again. Before reeling back, repulsed. As Śhadō takes the fish and their extra webbed finger bits. Wrapped in his long tubular tongue and rolls it out to reveal to all those who are observing.

“Y’r’an animal.” The words are, however, tainted with affection rather than any anger or disgust that should rightfully be there. But . . .

Ӓrˈkān understands. Not only is this like some adorable display of pride, that knows no term of interpretation for, but it’s also a display of glory to this war created creature. 

Of course, there’s no reaction to her words. As they place the meal back where it belongs and promptly swallowed; as earlier demanded of Śhadō.

It’s twisted, they know, to consider Lepíspterón’s display as a form of love. Expressing that now Ӓr’kān belongs to Śhadō, as well.