SHIV'S BOYFRIEND
HE/HIM
33
AUGUST 12
DISCORD
SHIV-SAMA-O
SHIV'S BOYFRIEND
THE GREATER THE DESPAIR THE SWEETER THE VICTORY
MEGAMIND [RESEARCH]
POSTED ON Sept 28, 2021 22:15:25 GMT
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[attr="class","raidPkmn"] [attr="class","raidInfo"] [attr="class","raidName"]XANTHO'S FAVOR [attr="class","raidHealth"] [attr="class","raidHP"] [attr="class",YELLOW"] [break][break] [break]
MEGAMIND[break]
SET AFTER DANGEROUS DISCOVERIES[break]
BLUE SALIVA POOLS FROM THE CENTER OF HIS LOWER LIP. xantho stares at the assortment of colorful berries, enthralled, nodding to himself as his body rocks back and forth. the authenticity of this food proves much more appetizing in contrast to the packaged square of the dissected sandwich.
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his fingers crawl through the air, wriggling like nihilego tentacles, held back by a momentary lapse in judgement. “many thanks to you zacramsey zac,” he stops, bowing from his seated stance, prostrating himself between his saviors.
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and suddenly, he brings his fist down, squashing the tamato berries into a pulp. the skin immediately bursts, juice imploding in all directions. each strike comes down more furious than the last, a constant thump of flesh against solid earth.
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pools of red juice seep into the dirt. dark spots grow underneath his shadow. the megalopolan known as xantho loses himself in a frenzy, not unlike what kazimir had seen in their home world. the only difference is that there are no teeth or claws. only the curve of his purple tongue lapping up the spilt liquid, pulling at the fruits innards to swallow them without chewing.
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hunger resonates from his every action. his body contorts as his fingers dig into the dirt, searching for any bits or pieces he may have missed. red splotches stain his face with the fruit’s blood, a gruesome image that resonates with the pokkenger’s ultra space adventures.
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“h-h-hottt!!!”
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the alien behavior is rudely interrupted by xantho’s wild howl. his lips are swollen, elongated tongue extended as he pants repeatedly. his chest rises, ribs fading into obscurity when it rises, only to peek back out when he exhales. he labors in an excruciating pregnancy. today, his discovery of spiciness is born.
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“your food is so hot,” he exclaims in alarm.
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again, he slams his balled fist down on the rawst berry, sucking out the juice vesicles with great haste.
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“your food is so flavorless,” he mumbles with puckered lips.
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but despite this, he refuses to spit it up.
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when kazimir hands him the water bottle, he attempts the same. plastic crinkles, eliciting a loud pop, underneath the pounding of his fist. he presents the misshapen bottle back to kazimir, lips pressed into a confused ‘o’. it remains unopened.
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“there is no food where i am from. only each other.”
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his head hangs downward in great shame, lips still curled from the bitter taste of rawst on his tongue. the blue and red blemishes are still wet, adding some well deserved color to his otherwise dark skin tone.
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“i…”
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he readjusts his mask, making sure it fits snuggly over his face. his lips hide behind the white of his visor.
[break][break] “i refuse to eat another. so—so i starved.”
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