For the past 3-5 months, I have been working on a large post that I intend to submit to this subreddit at some point in the near future. The post will be a near-complete guide to several changes I have made to human biology in my world-building projects.

After months of "Long-COVID"-induced writers block , I am finally nearing the completion of the post but I had a last minute idea that I'd like some input on.

So, I have a few nameless and hyper-specific fetishes and of of these fetishes are that I am very attracted to the visual concept of fluids dripping out of navels on pregnant bellies. ( Don't judge me please, I've already admitted that it's weird ).

Since many features of my alternate humans are expressions of my kinks, I started coming up with a concept wherein my humans naturally discharged some kind of fluid from their navels during pregnancy.

Initially, I couldn't figure out what this fluid could be and thus I felt like the concept was too weird to function but today I had any idea. That being; the fluid is a natural anti-stretch mark oil. It leaks out of the navel at semi-specific intervals during pregnancy and can easily be rubbed over the abdomen and other parts of the body. This means that my humans have always been able to keep their skin looking great throughout pregnancy and never needed to develop synthetic anti-stretch mark oil.

In order to make the oil discharge more prominent, the navels of my alternate humans would always be "innies" even during the third trimester of pregnancy.

What do you think about this concept?

Was just looking to make nsfw fanart for a mutuals new oc

basically (Our Alice) she's the sole owner and employee of a company that solves the worlds most mysterious crimes through otherworldly means and no one but her knows how she solves them, just that she does and does it well.

she's nice but often lost and thought and talks a lot!

obviously i could just ask her creator and i might! but i don't wanna both her, we're not close ntm the character is so new bombarding her with questions like these might be a bit intense

+it's fun to snowball ideas like these and never thought to open the floor to more people! not familiar enough with alice in wonderland specifically to think of porn scenarios/abilities/creatures/settings etc to give it a flare that's in-line with that specific theme.

Hi I am new here, this is my first post after finding out about this sub. AMA about my all female supervillain organization the Sorority!

I feel putting up an AMA about this could lead to some interesting on the spot world building for my superhero setting. So ask me anything about the Sorority. I will give info about the Sorority below.

The Sorority are a villain organization that only recruits women. They generally remain secretive though and would prefer that nobody outside the Sorority know they exist.

It can be a little difficult to get into the Sorority. There are pretty high standards for recruitment but having superpowers is usually a good enough selling point. The best way though would be through a friend who is already in the Sorority who can sponsor your recruitment. A general rule of thumb is that the Sorority chooses you.

Their goal is the, “Liberation of women from men”. At least that is what they tell potential recruits. Once you are in, you are in for life and you start to see the darker side of the Sorority. Including actions that contradict this goal.

———

Onto the Dark Side of the Sorority.

The Sorority sometimes kidnaps select women. This can be for any reason whether a request by an agent, an associate of the Sorority, or because she is a superhero getting in the way. There’s a general rule to avoid killing women when possible.

Men on the other hand are usually killed on sight and for the slightest provocation.

Captured women are sent to various secret prisons run by the Sorority. Those who are deemed worthy of recruitment are imprisoned and coerced into joining. It’s due to their coercion methods that many of their agents are former superheroes.

All others are usually forced to work at a brothel as a prostitute to help generate income.

The Sorority also run a variety of businesses both legal and illegal. Most notably the newspaper station known as the Sandy Papers, and a series of brothels. There is an ongoing operation to try and take control over the police by getting a Sorority agent to take the position at the top.

They are led by the enigmatic leader and mastermind known only as The Sorority Queen. She rarely makes an appearance except during meetings and parties. Her goal is the development of a dangerous virus to kill all men on Earth.

———

Ask me anything about this villain group. I will answer to the best of my ability.

Houris are some kind of Islamic angel. The whole 72 virgin thing is referring to them, not 72 redditors. The description in the Quran is basically limited to having big, beautiful eyes. And apparently there's hadiths that have odd descriptions. I think it's mostly just useful to put a name to sexy angels, but not really have much beyond that.

I am working on a fictional story inspired by the Pixiv manga 'Relentless Bullying of Nanaho.' I'd love some suggestions on expanding the scenes, adding more public humiliation, and filling in the time skips. Are there any specific ideas for slave training or other ways the characters could push the humiliation further?

bondage, yuri, bully / Relentless bullying of Nanaho - pixiv

it's based on this Manga series on Pixiv highly recommend you check it out! i just want to expand on it a little further so maybe some public humiliation

or other types of slave training which they might have done there are some time skips which i would love to full in

does anybody have suggestions?

Maybe some tasks or punishments they would give Nanaho?

i had some punishment ideas:

• tarring and feathering but instead of tar using honey
• bastinado or maybe honey on feet and using ants
• Punishment using plants such as bamboo or nettles
• walking over lego, sea shells, hot asfalt or egg shells
• spicey food only
• wearing a yoni egg all day without dropping it
• humiliation

which of these punishments should i use and which ones shouldn't be used?

We all know titties and that men love to drink their saturated nutrious milk. However I am curious, could you do that in an opposite way? As in women loving to drink cum?

I am curious as to what would be the reasons for women liking to drink cum? Since unlike milk it's not nutrious nor tasty. I know that women could gulp some during blowjobs, but I mean as in liking to drink cum in general, even outside of sex scenes. Kinda like coming to the store to buy a bag of milk, but instead of milk it's a bag of cum.

I thought of maybe in a hentai fantasy setting, life clerics would love to bring it as it represents life. And same would be for succubi. However I am curious for what your ideas would be.

In many of the works presented here, sex and sexuality seem to saturate the world. How do you deal with the inevitability of children in these worlds coming into contact with it much sooner than in ours?

I for one would prefer to avoid the ick somewhat, but I understand that's not a priority for everyone. Though I acknowledge there isn't a magic brain switch that gets flipped at 18.

Especially in worlds where taboo is removed, I think you need to tell with teens and even tweens getting in on it?

Lore for my fantasy world, Ennwyn.

Sex, sexuality, relationships and child rearing in goblin society.

Sex seems to occupy a special, salacious place in the minds of humans, dwarves and elves. This is partly why I'm writing this paper. Scholars that have overlooked my other works will undoubtedly read this one!

Child rearing

Goblins are raised communally by groups of goblins who have strong parental instincts. This leaves the rest of us to return to our usual tasks. Goblin parents think nothing of leaving their children with these care- givers. I myself have 8 children being raised back home in my clan. Even the queen's children are raised this way(as I was).

Sexuality

Unlike the other peoples of the Empire, who vary in their leanings and attitudes, goblins are mostly attracted to male and female alike. Scholars I've discussed this with talk of "breeding strategies". They say that because of our high birth-rates and fertility, these desires are so we don't become overpopulated with our dwindling resources. We certainly don't think if it like this. Breeding is strictly regulated, but usually kept high to replenish those killed in dwarven pogroms. In times of peace, we keep numbers low, applying alchemical mixtures to lower fertility.

Relationships

Goblins are often called polyamorous, though this is a simplification. We have tiers of relationship. Copper, are those we breed with purely for procreation. These relationships are strictly opposite sex pairings. Silver are those we mate with for pleasure, and Gold are the equivalent of marriage. Silver and gold can be same or opposite sex pairings, most Gold couples eschew Silver pairings(while accepting Copper for procreation), though not all.

Sex

Goblins do not see anything particularly scandalous around sex, are rarely jealous, and will do so in public—though only in front of goblins of breeding age. We celebrate Relkarra, the ancestral spirit of sensuality, said to have discovered the contraceptive properties of the gloomspot toadstool.

From Goblin Sexuality by Sel-ol-Umrak, scholar.

I'm not great at art, but it's nice to try and draw my characters. Here's Isobel, the protagonist of my upcoming cyberpunk erotica novella series. I've included some lore on her below.

Isobel Stirling was born in Bristol, England in 2075.

Always interested in space, Isobel studied physics at the University of Bristol with the intention of pursuing a career in the field, with hopes of one day working on one of the research or mining stations across the solar system.

A sharp rise in tuition fees meant she was unable to finish her degree and, through her boyfriend Carl's family, was able to land a desk job at GenAI, proofreading AI generated TV scripts.

After a decade of mind-numbing work at GenAI, Isobel found herself bored of life, barely tolerating her boyfriend and in debt due to the cybernetic eyes she required to do her job.

In January of 2108, Isobel developed dangerous thrill-seeking behaviour just to feel alive. Shoplifting, taking lewd photos of herself at work to post on a secret social media account, masturbating at her desk, getting into fights, Isobel would do anything for a thrill.

By August she realised that she was getting in over her head after climbing out of her office window, over a hundred stories from the ground. She needed a controlled release for this behaviour.

By chance she found an advert for Mind's Eye, hiring new Proxies. Getting paid to experience pain, pleasure, thrills and debauchery and streaming these sensations into the minds of paying clients seemed like the perfect solution to her dangerous proclivities and rising debt.

Isobel took the job.

I'm working on a scifi setting and something humans worked out 2000 years ago is best described in brief as "unlocked the character creator". Want to be your fursona? No problem. Don't like being 6'4"? Cakewalk, you looking for taller or shorter? Tired of being old? Of course you are. Let's just set you back to your mid 20s and slap on some bioimmortality so you can choose how long you live.

Sure that used to be the domain of the rich, but long story short, post-scarsity is inevitable for stellar nations. There's just too much stuff in space for poor people to exist after a certain level of automation is reached, and frankly automation will always out compete humans for basic industrial tasks. Thus...

The year is 4269, and for over 1500 years no one has ever lived in a body they dislike in any way at all. Money isn't a thing. Working to survive isn't a thing. If you want to do some labor because you like it, by all means, but if you just want to spend 400 years sitting around eating chips and watching porn, by all means. You rule your life.

With that backstory out of the way... I have IRL friends who genuinely want to be futanari. If they had access to the kind of tech my setting has, they'd do it. Which leads me to a problem...

I'm not a zoomer and I've never been the type to hang out in bars and talk about current events. I have no idea what terms are considered insulting anymore. I could make lore for the setting which says "Women who prefer having a penis instead of a vagina reclaimed the word shemale as a label since it "just sounds nicer" in the year 3129." But I don't know if that would piss people off IRL.

So, what are the big popular fantasy sexes these days? What do people call them?

In my sci fi setting, woman could take techno-organic strap ones with various shapes and sizes that can fuse with their flesh and nerves, essentially allowing them to feel the cock like it’s the real thing. They can also modify it with vibrations or what kind of a fluid it generates within. The justification for this is that there are lots of lesbians who wish to penetrate or get penetrated by their partners. Also in my setting, you can change your sexuality with just a pill so lots of friends also use these organic strap ones with each other.

I am struggling with a name. So far here are some of my ideas for the name:

Erogen. Aphrocock. Pleazure. Penitrix.

I love worldbuiling stuff where all sorts of kinks and taboos are far more accepted and normalized and sexual stuff in general is a lot more common and public, but it has also often got me wondering what would Christanity (and other religions) look like in this world?

Like sure I could just handwave them away or just go "They're the same and dislike this because religion bad" but both of those feel kinda lazy and shallow, I find it way more intresting to think about them having always been part of the world in a way that works with stuff like a free use world or just general kink and sexual world (and I'll admit the "sexy slutty nun" look is also just fun and hot to add)

The main thing is though I'm not entirely sure on what ways that might look like besides some basic stuff like "There has never been any issue with homosexuality or pre-marital sex", especially as I think it'd be nice if a lotta core Christian doctrine and ideas (like the Ten Commandments, pacifism, love thy neighbor, going to church, prayer, etc) were kept and adapted/molded for a highly sexual and kinky world rather than totally discarded or ignored

What do yall think?

Tell me about yours. Tell me about your Prognosticating Prostitutes, your sultry sorcerous streetwalkers. your hexing hookers, your conjuring courtesans, etc. Tell me about how they 'turn tricks'.

Magically pleasurable touches, perhaps? Shape-shifting fits-all penises? Erotic Esoterica? Mind readers, who present fetishes? Fortune tellers who predict wishes? Give them to me. Particularly the fun and silly ones. Animated dildos and floating disembodied boobs! Give it all to me!

Ideally I'd like this paired alongside all sorts of weird speculative culture that might arise on a generation ship, my mind goes right to some sort of latex clad BDSM nobility lording over an o'neill cylinder worth of breeding stock. And they're all really tall because the live on an upper layer with less spin gravity. Anyway, there's all sorts of weird ways you could go with the concept, bonus points for continuing on to the planet they eventually colonize, and what sort of society forms from a bunch of people driven mad by being stuck on a spaceship for eons.

in you worldbuilding what type of men prefer woman with body type of " female athlete" type body ?, like real woman in WNBA, real woman in olympic decathlon, real woman in professtional volleyball,real woman professional runner and real woman professional swimmer, etc, and what type of men more like woman with"stereotype hentai girl/porn star" type body?

The information within this post is related to "Project Vigilant" / "P.V", a large-scale and predominately fan-fiction based world-building project that I have been working on since 2018. P.V is an insofar successful attempt at merging elements from no more than 110 different I.P's ( Intellectual Properties ) and some original alternate-history, sci-fi and fantasy into an organized and connected multiverse.

The subject matter of this specific post is original and thus compliant with this subreddit's unlisted rule against fan-fiction.

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In the P.V.M ( Project Vigilant Multiverse ) the human species is not a product of natural evolution, instead they are an artificial and "master-engineered" species of hermaphroditic bio-androids.

PVM Humans can do a lot of things that real humans cannot and one of these things is that PVM Humans can procreate with certain mammalian animal species. I have not determined what all of these species are but I know that they include canines, felines and whatever class of animals goats and sheep belong too.

Reproduction between animals and PVM Humans does not result in anthropomorphic hybrids as one might expect. Instead, PVM Human bodies will simply create a modified clone of the specific animal they mated with. These cloned animals are always sterile but they are also more intelligent and passive than the original animal species and this makes them easier to rear and control.

I envision that this is how PVM Humans domesticate and breed animals for livestock. They still use normal methods but this is an alternative.

Currently, I have only 1 story that features this part of P.V. The story takes place in 1024 BCE ( Known as 5562 A.N in P.V ) and includes a young Shepard who manages his families flock of sheep. By the time the story takes place, the young Shepard is pregnant with 5 goats and the flock is primarily made up of clones birthed by he and his family and a small collection of regular goats whom the clones are sourced from.

Anyway, I need help expanding and/or improving this concept.

Any ideas for other animal species this could apply too? Cultural changes etc. ?

So I have this highly aggressive, militaristic empire where all man and woman had to be trained for war. However, each woman has to give birth to at least three or four children before they can enter a war. They do not have to raise them as they do not actually have family structure and each child is raised in orphanage military academies. Blood magic allows them to carry more children, so they can to birth out the required amount just in a single year. This allows them to replace their loses and keep growing in population. The high ranking nobles in the empire can raise their own children and noble woman often hire commoners to carry the child for them.

Do you think this might be sexist?

Story: Smallscale
Concept: The miinu are tiny, insect-like humanoid creatures often mistaken for fairies. They no bigger than your thumb and have physical traits based on real world insects known as 'bug kin.
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This is my first post here, but I've been actively talking about this world on the main worldbuilding sub. I made a post introducing them here. But the time has come to cover a more sensitive aspect of the worldbuilding, how the Miinu's genitalia and reproductive system works.

Left; Male. Right; Female.

Miinu have a very different anatomical structure due to the existence of their abdomen, which carries a lot of their vital organs. A lot of the vital reproductive organs are located in the back, such as the uterus and the oviduct. Though the penis and the vagina are located up front for comfortable copulation.

https://preview.redd.it/upsduxzgaade1.png?width=828&format=png&auto=webp&s=b8c4f7996f1c0d04e4a95096766aef492b8cdd86

One of the biggest differences where their anus is located. It's found end of the abdomen, and is actually a cloaca, having all waste exiting the same hole as well as where eggs are laid in the females. Female Miinu cloaca's are different by having a noticeable crevasse where the ovipositor is located.

https://preview.redd.it/s3s0xswfbade1.png?width=1007&format=png&auto=webp&s=9bad660ad5e8212b9aa4141f4490330041ddbf72

The ovipositor is an organ that comes out in order to lay eggs. These can very in side depending on where the eggs need to be laid. Eggs laid underground or inside plants will need a longer one to reach into holes and deposit them inside. Many wasp and bee stingers are actually modified ovipositors that are out 24/7, and are covered in a hard layer of chitin that can have microscopic barbs on them. These can be used as defense and even inject a painful venom in some cases.

https://preview.redd.it/6vl8ctkdcade1.png?width=954&format=png&auto=webp&s=79bde08a9a8e2c996c7bab8b89a7ed2006370162

The miinu penis is a long, tendril like organ that appears very alien in comparison to humans. It has bristles that were evolved to brush out the sperm of rival males, and a pincer to lock a pair in place during nuptial flights. (Otherwise is difficult to get down and dirty in the sky.)

Both the penis and the vagina are usually kept hidden in a small pouch in the groin called a 'genital chamber', and don't come out unless significant arousal is experienced. This allows for Miinu to be unclothed without their junk hanging out all the time, and allows them to remain physically androgynous.

Other Notes

• Miinu do not develop sexual organs until their final metamorphosis around 16 years old. That means before this, children are impossible to identify the sex of unless they show any other sexual dimorphic traits at that age. Because of this it's become culturally acceptable to identify child Miinu with gender-neutral pronouns and terms. Many do not find out their biological sex until after their Metamorphosis Day, which can also act a bit like a gender reveal.
• Miinu females have a period cycle similar to humans which can cause similar symptoms like hormone imbalances, mood swings, and cramps. However instead of bleeding, the Miinu will produce an unfertilized egg at the end of their cycle. It's actually very common for these eggs to either end up in the toilet, or being saved and eaten to regain the nutrients.
• Queens of colonies like bees, wasps and ants have a spermatheca, an organ that stores male sperm long term, allowing them to continue producing fertilized eggs for years after intercourse.
• Miinu eggs only spend about a week gestating in the body, and the rest of development is done incubating outside of the body.

https://preview.redd.it/mp0itmhfgade1.png?width=2470&format=png&auto=webp&s=2a0200c35c3e88d4eec43f5e538d444e0e26fb33

• It's not considered taboo to destroy a fertilized egg, essentially aborting it, so long as it's fresh and significant development hasn't started. A good rule of thumb, if its a clump of cells, go for it. If it's developed an eye, that's infanticide. The laws about this are tricky and different from region to region but it's frowned upon to kill a developing egg unless it's shown signs of developing serious birth defects, or is experiencing egg rot. (Egg rot being when the fetus or part of the fetus dies in the egg and starts to decay.)
• Miinu semen is pale green.

For Utopia, my setting, one of the most controversial and frowned upon jobs is collecting of alertant fluid, also known as Lumina jelly, the job is known as slurging

What is Lumina jelly?

It's that glowing neon blue jelly Jadefish went out of their cloacas in order to bakery males 0m to fertilize their eggs The catch is that the 10-meter long, 6 ton shark has to be aroused in order to release the fluid and this is often done by hand

So yeah, pleasuring a giant shark, people who work this job get a LOT of backlash, since a lot of employees are actually a little too... Enthusiastic about the job, and not just the pay, similar to all the controversy surrounding male gynecologists but with a shark

At least they get paid quite a lot of money to do it

bit of an awkwardly worded title but lemme clarify

my Laezaics are a race of demons i have designed in my worldbuilding. the blessed children of Laezazea, they worship filth and destroying innocence and purity with debauchery. they hate blood and gore and death, they believe that blood dilutes the purity of the waste of virgins and their whole thing is just to raid villages and towns, steal all the virgins (and anyone they can, really) without drawing blood. they use their tongues and saliva to suffocate and intoxicate their victims, some of their people use grenades (like water balloons) filled with vomit or piss to disorient victims and cause them to start puking and they can’t fight back, etc etc

they’re a fucking disgusting, filthy race of demons and you sure as shit don’t want to be caught by them. so i’m wondering what kind of “weaponry” would they use in terms of melee combat that can restrain or knock a target unconscious without drawing blood or killing them? i’m aware of the catchpole and this is generally around the 15-16th century if this helps any!

thanks y’all <3

idea here: what is your story of a female faun meeting a (male) human, and the human man is unintentionally aroused when he saw the revealing clothes & the beautiful body of the (deer kind) faun herself (my own faun clothing idea here is that she only wears a brassiere-bra type, or a leaf-bra, & wearing a loincloth. similar to blossom from battlerite). the faun then smells the human mans arousal, and asks him if he's in heat, the human man tells the (female) faun that humans don't have heat cycles or mating seasons, & humans mate consistently all-year-round. after the human male's explanation, the faun gets genuinely worried/concerned for him & that the human man's "heat cycle" is untreated, she says that it's awful for humans to have "heat" all year round. the faun asks the human man if she could rimjob his anus, so she could help the human man in his "heat cycle", the human male reluctantly agreed to her request, & she rimjobs the man's anus to fully "relieve" the human male of his "heat cycle". [and also, what's your lore on why fauns sometimes misunderstand or think that humans have "heat cycles/mating seasons", even though humans don't have it]

The primary Kiitoni religion called Salvific Vehicle evolved over the centuries into three primary branches: East Coast, Central, and West Coast. Each reflecting a unique evolution of theological thought.

Initially, Kiitoni began as a largely atheistic but spiritual society, where the focus was on magic rituals rather than the veneration of deities. Participants engaged in these rituals, which served as a means of connecting with the spiritual essence of life called Kamma without attributing it to a specific divine entity. Over time it shifted toward a henotheistic perspective, acknowledging the theoretical existence of other gods while emphasizing the worship of a singular deity named Tsuta Ita. This transition sparked intensive internal debates regarding the nature of divinity, including the number of gods that might exist and the defining characteristics of what constituted a god.

The East Coast branch subsequently evolved into a strict monotheism, firmly denying the existence of any god apart from Temawe, an aspect of Tsuta Ita while denying its other traditional aspects. This shift eventually lead to the formation of a new religious movement known as the God Worshipers. This group emphasized a singular divine focus, discarding previous rituals and multiplicity in favor of an unwavering devotion to Temawe.

Conversely, the Central branch maintained its henotheistic stance, caught in a state of theological ambivalence between the more definitive beliefs of the East Coast and the expansive polytheism of the West Coast. This branch represents a unique position within the broader Kiitoni landscape, reflecting a blend of traditional beliefs while grappling with the evolving nature of faith across the coastal divisions.

The West Coast branch embraced a fully polytheistic approach, actively creating thousands of gods and goddesses. Among the various sub-sects that emerged from this branch is the Idadi, which is particularly notable for its unconventional practices. The Idadi incorporates elements such as orgies and the use of sex toys within their temples. Their rituals include statues of divine beings with erect penises and holes that can be mounted in several ways.

In addition to their distinctive practices, the Idadi have produced a text known as the Itsumazakokami. Itsumazakokami, a provocative scripture that recounts the sexual escapades of the gods, merging spirituality with eroticism. The imagery and themes within this text play a central role in their worship, as they celebrate human sexuality in conjunction with their understanding of the divine.

While the Idadi may push boundaries further than other branches, all branches of Kiitoni religion exhibit a notable departure from puritanical norms, embracing instead a broader spectrum of human experience, including sexuality, as integral to their spiritual lives.

IRL, the Itsumazakokami is currently only 8351 words long but I do plan to write significantly more. there are other scriptures from Kiitoni i'm working on but the Itsumazakokami is the only one that fits the theme of their subreddit.

There are currently three chapters in the Itsumazakokami.

1)a short preamble type thing

2)a creation story about the universe where the female aspect of the cheif deity Tsuta Ita has sex with a lesser god demiurge

3)a creation story about humanity specifically, where less evolved apes create a magic potion that turns them human and then celebrate with an orgy. Their myth has humanity creating itself

Hello, hello! Winter is here! Which means it’s time for cold, cold, and oh look even more cold. And enough lights strewn over people’s houses to give an eyeless salamander epilepsy. (Jk I actually loved Christmas this year). I think I'm starting to settle into a mildly less chaotic rhythm. Dropping 1-2months still seems inconsistent to me, but treating it like a step in the right direction ensures I stay in the right direction, you know?

For this installment of Gynosauria we now return to the powerful and dogmatic creators of the Gynosaurs; The Black Dragons. This time I want to delve further into the Dragon-Queen who slew the human race and harvested their DNA for her own planet-scale experiment on the female form, a recent discovery from the human race that has since been living rent-free in an already eccentric mind among her fellow arachnomorphs. She’d have gained much notoriety amongst the nobility of the swarm, moreso with introducing and standardizing the draconic body-plan that gives these aliens their namesake. A living legend across the empire, who brought their kind two steps closer to being the perfect species.

If only the latter, the absorption of mankind, had not left such a bizarre and licentious imprint upon her mind~…

The great expanse of the Ratic ocean is grand even when viewed from space. A curved plane of blue basking in solar rays from a sun further away, leaving only half an eye’s view for stars and nebulas to fill. An incredible sight, even when viewed through the subtle distortion of a window.

Of a ship in orbit, cruising through the void just above the planet’s atmosphere. An immense, behemoth vessel. Darker than the darkest night, its skin seems to absorb the light around it. Vanishing in and out of existence with every star that passes around it, it lazily chases the moon. Its wings, grand enough to shroud an island, lay drooping at its sides. So limp they have become, that against the solar light three slim stripes can be seen. Empty space splitting their silhouette, if only subtly, into the eight gargantuan legs they truly are. Along each limb, hairs and quills tangle into each other like velcro, holding them together despite their current sloth. Segmented, knobbly joints between each limb are illuminated by a single spike of green, fueled by a mix of organic fluids and highly combustible gas, so powerful that even the darkness of the ship’s skin has trouble absorbing the light.

Only, at this point, it would be equally applicable to call it a creature. With its immense, wedge-shaped tail producing one of its own light, the leviathan is content to drag itself through orbit with only the weak push of its wing-thrusters. And equally content is its captain, perched at the very crest of its crocodilian head as but a single shining speck of knightly black. For an exoskeleton negates the need for any manufactured protection against space and all its elements. For a Black Dragon, a spacewalk is as leisurely as any walk. And a walk did she need.

Twenty million years. Twenty. Million years.

Yet whenever she walks down from the head of her ship, crawling into the air-locked plates of its ears, across the bridge in its skull into its brain to gaze upon her latest report of what they’ve been able to observe from orbit, she sees the same number.

Three.

Three species of her great and glorious experiment. Including the original. Gynosaurus, Gynosuchus, and Gynoterra. Three distinct branches of her specially crafted dream-beast, fully adapted to their own unique environments. Top of their food chains, rulers of their roost, and having as much sex in one day than her eyes could blink in two. Reproduction, with the occasional chance of mutation, with the doubly occasional chance of beneficial mutation, which then gets passed on. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat, and over time the population starts to change. In physical appearance, in behavior, and in internal structure, all in the pursuit of being as perfectly suited to comfortably live in their environment as possible.

Of course the process would be slow! It’s been explicitly stated in every recovered record of human civilization. A single generation could take decades if not centuries, assuming said generation had even produced a gene that would even benefit their evolution. None if it’s automated, just an endless fractal of rollings of the dice. But, and it’s the kind of “but” that made the talons on her foot curl into the hull of her ship. Digging, piercing, cracking the shell of her vessel with a strength not uncommon to her species, but seldom ever brought out like this. In frustration, in stagnation, in awe of the circumstances of having done something exactly as instructed from a book and getting nearly none of the results in the waking world.

Last she checked, twenty million years on a continent bigger than her own ship could do a little better than two new species, and a third ancestor that has barely changed if at all.

Clearly, something was missing. Something that was preventing the vast biodiversity she saw in so many “Spec-evo”, and “Worldbuilding” articles she read from humans, and even their own actual planet before her fleet cracked it. Would that she ask but she wasn’t one to be complicit in another species’ inferiority, and asking for help would have counted. She could almost chuckle, the sound having no air to travel in the vacuum of space, thus leaving only the smoke pluming from her mouth to indicate her incredulity.

That they needed walking pieces of metal, shaped into ugly facsimiles of themselves, just to do something as simple as walk on the outside of a ship for them? That also had to be made of metal, since they could barely modify their own DNA beyond a few freaks who could regenerate fingers? If she didn’t kill them all, something else would have, and just a century later she’d bet. Even so, as she heaves a soundless sigh, all four of her long and thin wings slump from her shoulders to the hull of her ship.

Lorok, Dragon-Queen of the empire, slayer of cheaters in the endless cosmic game of the apex, is at a loss.

Her wings snap back up from the ground, long and narrow limbs flaring straight into a grand and menacing X, membranes stretching taught to further expand their size. Green spikes of flame blast from her joints, stretching out from behind like immense feathers. A flap of her first wings and she’s launched from her position on the crest of her ship. A flap from her second turns her mid-air, micro-thrusters swiveling to turn her straight-line through the void into an arc, and from an arc into a loop. Finally, she flares all her wings out at once, thrusters pointing forward to brake. A hair of a second too late, and she’d have smashed right through the airlock. Nearly 700 meters down from where she once stood.

A tap from her claw and it opens, plates folding inward to reveal a decidedly spartan and well-lit hall. A ways from the slimy and waxy ear-canal one would expect to see in the ear of a living organism, the interior of the ship is as utilitarian as its exterior. The dark, light-absorbing color of its outer shell is replaced with a dim grey, almost yellow. The hallway is hard and dry, but the contours of its marble-like walls display the organic nature of the ship well. Veins and arteries, thick as her arms, slither along the walls, the toughened inner hull nulling the churn and simmer of the blood pumping through them.

Overhead, opaline lenses shoot bright lights down onto the walkway, each circle cast onto the ground a painted mix of blues, whites, pinks, and greens. Lorok’s armored body shines under the pastel, the gentle slither of her tail under the light creating thousands of tiny waves along its segments. At a crossroads she looks to her left, spying a fully transparent door. On the other side she sees the hall open into a massive chamber, bridged by a single thin catwalk. At the far end she sees the main console of her ship. Glassy, insectoid wings fan together to form a massive screen, displaying the same report she has seen and subsequently repulsed by seven times. Her eyes narrow as she turns to her right. An eighth time would bring no more clarity, but perhaps a visit to her lab might.

Where the catwalk stood straight, this new hall sloped down, an incline which forced Lorok to hunch over as to not hit her head, before giving up and settling onto all fours. Her wings retract their membranes and twist forward, four spindly limbs tapping the ground as her leopard-like body stalked the hall. She could always tell by sound which way her lab was. Just a couple taps on the floor of every junction, listen to the reverberation, and the next turn is as obvious as if there were a neon sign pointing the way. As she scuttles on, time becomes irrelevant to her. In a ship as large as hers, it’s good to keep only your destination in mind rather than how long it’s taking.

And it's a well cultivated skill, for as her wings tap against a door and the familiar sounds of her lab reach between her ear-plates, it felt as if only moments had passed. It’s only upon crawling through the door and standing to her feet that knees and elbows alike make their best guess to her. A gruff ebbs from her maw, low and beastly, announcing her entrance. A forest of green tubes, stretching from floor to ceiling, stands before her. Among them, eight-legged drones of every shape and size, united only in the typical draconic body shape gifted by their creator, scuttle about. Some clean the tubes, while others tap away on iridescent screens of keratin, manipulating the information displayed.

It is the ones who crawl along the ground, carrying crates upon stiffly spread wings (no doubt in some way organic themselves, if only in composition), who turn to her first. Slowly each of all their eyes turn from their current task to their queen, who regards them with an emotionless scowl.

“Out.”

The whole room shudders as her voice pierces their exoskeletons, chilling them to their very cores. The dragons on the tubes fall to the ground, stumbling over their overly fluffy, clean-purpose front paws as they bound for the door behind her. Metallic crashing shakes her ears as carriers drop their crates and fly off, knowing their importance is but sand in the hourglass of their queen’s currently finite patience. The Keratin wings fold into the floor, some so spooked as to leap over their screens before they could finish closing. The cacophony of tails slapping against tails, talons scraping the floor, and wings beating through the air, are finally brought to an abrupt end when Lorok kicks her foot back towards the wall, crushing the red cyst-like protrusion on it. Several snaps of large chitin plates and Lorok is now alone.

And the cold scowl of her face breaks to one of exhaustion. Malaise. Perhaps even… no. Not defeat. Not yet.

Claws retract in exchange for a spur from her feet, clicking against the floor with every stride. Her tail raises to balance her stride, as hips swing and sway. Now bipedal, the feminine contours of her exoskeleton display freely. As one of the elytra-screens unfurls again, her eyes glaze over her own reflection as it springs from the floor.

Slender yet subtly curvaceous, shapely plates and scales line together to form a mimicry of a woman’s body. Her face, likewise, is convincing only until closer look. A pale, porcelain thing, whose pouty black lips hang open and close only with her breath. Her cheeks are hollow and gaunt, with nothing to conform to against the length of the monstrous jaws hidden beneath. Indeed her face, statuesque as it may be by extinct human conventions, is but another contrivance no more convincing than the smoothened bulbs on her chest meant to represent breasts. Her reflection vanishes as the screen appears.

She swipes her hand across it, icons and squares flying from one end of the screen to the other in a blur. Eventually she settles on a graph roughly resembling the layout of the laboratory. Her claw taps upon several of the white dots, meant to represent the great green tubes filling the room. The shifting of massive, unseen structures vibrates the entire room, loose tools and keratin slates falling from table-like growths from the floor. Several green tubes are suddenly flooded with blue, a cloud of fizzing bubbles dropping into each one. Each cloud that fizzles away reveals a floating body, as tightly curled in on itself as it is deathly still. The only signs of life are the ones beeping on the screen.

Striding to each one, chitin hands make tender clinks against the glass. Her strokes are slow and gentle, careful to not let her claws make a single screech against the transparent surface. Gazing in, she regards each of the bodies. Her first experiments. Barely even prototypes, mere trials and errors in her first steps in her grand project.

One is a misshapen, almost fish-like being. A woman whose head is forcefully pressed into her scaly tail, on account of the oversized spine bursting out of her back. Another drifts weightlessly in its tube, beautiful in form, if one were to ignore the immense jaws erupting from where a head should be. A third lays firmly lodged in her tube, a gangly clawed arm folded into one wall and pinning the mummified figure it attaches to toward another.

She takes a few more steps through the menagerie, eyes spying newer and stranger creations. A woman delicately coiled around herself, her grotesquely stretched torso snaking up and down the tube, ending in nearly nonexistent legs. Another, whose arm overgrows into a massive wing, appears almost serene nestled in its membrane.

A final step, this time ending in a tube much larger than the rest. much larger. Lorok wrinkles her nose, said wrinkles made especially sharp from the dozens of tiny plates composing her mask. Insofar there was no emotion she could pin to what she felt about her creations. Perhaps disappointment, that she’s come so far only to be bottlenecked by some hidden logic of evolution she can’t see (which would definitely be quite the first for her kind). Perhaps even tenderness, for old things that started her latest endeavour. Now? The disgust from this one tube, whose contents held such promise, is enough to finally knock her from her nostalgia.

Which then settles right onto a single drone. Frozen in place, claw and leg each spread out mid-stride. Wings tightly wrap around its body like a cloak, the darkness of their membrane obviously meant to further obscure its form. Lorok’s eyes narrow, a sneer cutting through her lips.

“I. said. Out.”

The claws of the drone curl into the floor, tiny screeches from each digit sounding its silent terror. Lorok bends down, tail lifting into the air and curling like a scorpion, wings falling lazily to her side. The sound of leather sliding across stone is all the anticipation she gives the poor creature, before she slams both her claws into the ground. Tubes ring as they are shaken, the specimens within bouncing against the walls as bubbles swirl. Cracks snake across the floor, nearly reaching the walls.

Dust clears and the drone can be seen again, this time curled in on itself tightly. Mere inches from their head, Lorok’s claws pulverize the ground, shards of keratin and chitin piled between each knuckle. The drone feels the bones in her neck popping as she leers down, her warm breath hitting it’s wings with ethereal lightness.

Yet she may as well have smashed her claws down a second time.

“Didn’t I?”

Wings shift, allowing four pupils to peek through the shivering mass. The light above is obscured between the horns of the queen, leaving only two white dots to glare from the shadow. Even at this angle, the tiniest glints of her pale face nearly sparkle. A myriad of tiny, gemstone scales, all perfectly slotted into each other to form a perfect face. A face seen only among the humans, now seen only in record and recreation.

The face of a woman.

“Y…You… did?”

Lorok’s head raises, twisting incredulously at the drone’s tone.

“Yes I did…” The drone retreats into its nest of wings, powerless against the chill of her voice. She cranes down again, her nose just one hair above them.

“Are you broken? Is that why you didn’t listen?”

“N-no…” Lorok’s sneer fades. Her eyebrows level, her eyes narrowing. A single huff from her nose, and she raises her claw again. The drone’s wings pull again, allowing its eyes enough clearance to see her impending talons.

“I…!” Joints click into place, raising each claw to glint in the lab-light.

“But-!” The sound of slicing wind hits their ears.

“I HAVE AN IDEA!!!” Lorok’s arm freezes, leaving only air to slap against the drone’s curled form. There is a moment of silence, thick and threatening.

“A drone… with an idea?” The claw retracts, clanking to the floor. The drone takes it as permission, tentatively. Wings and tail unfurl as they stand on all fours, knees wobbling as they raise even further to two legs.

“Introduce yourself.” Even in their current terror, the drone could not help but hear the sultriness to Lorok’s voice. Something they must suppress if she’s really giving them a chance. A deep breath, and discipline pilots their body as they stand: legs straight, head high, hands on thighs, all wings folded tightly except for the upper right, stretching up to the sky with all fingers splayed.

The salute of the Black Dragons, only imperfected by the quivering of the drone's jaw.

“Designation: Multi-purpose drone AR-9021, of the 30th batch of the Qliphoth nest, 67th unit of the 502nd legion.” Lorok’s head twists, lips pursing, eyes slightly widening.

“Gifted to me by Queen Qliphoth…” A claw slides across her lips, the end of her mouth subtly curling. The drone’s eyes break from their thousand yard stare, sheepishly staring up at Lorok. More specifically, how seemingly everything she did could seem so sultry.

“A-as part of the celebration for your latest endeavour.” They stammer. Lorok’s face puzzles, mind slowly recalling the occasion.

“Hm. Being stuck on this experiment for so long, I had forgotten there was a coronation for it…” She pauses, to which the drone is compelled to open their mouth, only to be cut off as she suddenly stands to her feet, her face beaming down at them.

“Qliphoth always was spartan in her designs. ‘Why make so many drones designed do so many different things, when true utility comes from making one that does all’, she said.” Lorok’s tail drags across the floor as she turns, arm raising to gesture toward the far end of the room. In the distance, the white-light of the keratin screen can be seen reflecting off glass tubes. Her expression remains benevolent.

“Show me your idea.”

The hum of the keratin screen beckons as the two walk. Their size difference is made even more apparent, with AR’s frantic skittering barely able to keep with Lorok’s feline stride. As AR’s shark-like face manifests along the reflective surface, claws reach forward and touch the screen. Cells contract and expand, lights and darks mixing into colors, and from colors form images. The many icons and boxes once again become a blur as AR scrolls through, only to immediately stop on a 3d model of the planet below them. A final claw drags a box into the corner of the display, unreadable lines of code flying from bottom to top in waves.

“So… This is Igoli.” AR looks up at Lorok. Her face is mostly unreadable, if not for the sharply quirked brow of her pale face. The drone turns back to the screen, throat plates slightly clinking as they swallow.

“You have… four continents, and five oceans. The continent of Gaia, and subsequently the bordering Ratic ocean, is where you have seeded your creations.” AR looks up again. Lorok isn’t looking back, but she nods.

“Insofar, everything has proliferated exactly as we projected it would. Yet for as abundant life has become, twenty million years to now, it’s lacking in diversity, isn’t it?” Lorok nods again, but even from the corner of AR’s eye it’s easy to see the disappointment hanging from her head.

“There’s not even tree-climbers yet, let alone anything flight-worthy.” Her wings shift as she speaks.

“Well… let’s take a look at the natural history of another planet.” AR taps on the box sitting in the corner, and it suddenly expands to show a flash of images of a new planet. Sea and land sprawl across the planet like blotches of paint, with whirls of white spinning around its surface. Lorok lowers her face toward the box, eyebrows knitting.

“Earth…?” AR is the one to nod this time.

“It’s the perfect example. Watch.” A bar appears at the bottom of the box, marked by dates and times going back several billion years. AR’s claw slides across the bar, and the planet morphs as time turns back. Centuries, millennia, entire eons pass, before the planet seems entirely unrecognisable.

“This was life around 2.7 billion years ago.” Their claw moves from the bar to drag across the green masses of the planet’s surface.

“Life here was incredibly simple. A single species of cyanobacteria, spread across all land and water masses in a single film.” The planet expands as AR zooms. Across the oceans, the exact film of green seen on land can be barely made out.

“One single giant colony, wrapped around the whole planet.” Lorok leans further, eyes subtly widened at the image before her. AR sees her expression, and upon noting the subtle bit of awe in her eye, feels a sudden lift in their chest.

They seem to have her full attention now.

“The cyanobacteria here have existed entirely unchanged for billions of years before this. From when they first spilled from the primordial soup shooting from thermal vents in the abyss, this one single form they had assumed was all they needed. Thus, the only evolution ever made was the tolerance of land, in over a billion years.” There is a mild thump. Mild to Lorok, but to AR it nearly knocked them down. Getting to their feet, they see her face remaining glued to the screen, legs fold into her lap, and tail curiously swinging behind her.

With all the archived Earth data swirling to the surface of AR’s head, the image of a small black mammal bubbles forth. Tiny and inquisitive, sitting in the same position as Lorok as its ear flickers.

“What changed?” AR jolts hearing Lorok’s voice, entranced yet matriarchal as every other time they heard it. They shake their head, focus returning to their eyes.

“Well… Armageddon.”

Lorok’s eyes widen, mouth soundlessly agape. Her whole body shifts as she looks to AR again. Her tail coils around a nearby tube, guiding her as she turns her whole body to face the drone. Though having a face of colt-plated chitin, AR hopes that the fluster in their chest does not show. Crouched on two legs, Lorok’s torso is brought closer to eye level. Close in that AR’s whole view is currently blocked by a smooth, silver, shining pair of hips. Like her mask, her midriff is layered in thousands of tiny plates to mimic the same lively, supple skin stretched across a toned inner core.

AR’s ogling disappears as quickly as her athletic abdomen curls inward, replaced with a straining snake-neck with a very, very incredulous face at the end.

“Armageddon?” She snarls, AR recoiling backward with a flutter of their wings. Lorok sees AR’s shock, making her sneer deepen as her head charges forward. Stopping mere inches from AR’s, her lips strain open as a hiss whistles through her fangs.

“Are you seriously suggesting that I simply… raze my experiment to the ground now? Twenty million years of directing and planning, trillions of resources spent, and the gawking eyes of my fellow queens…” Sparks fly as her claw scrapes forward toward the smaller dragon.

“And that is somehow going to fix it? And-” Her head turns away as she stifles a laugh.

“-Suddenly I will have hundreds of millions of new species at my disposal, per the entire point of this long- and let me emphasize- Arduous experiment?” Her head twists right, allowing one eye to singularly glare down at the drone. In this moment each can see nothing but the other, yet it could only make Lorok so much bigger than AR, and AR so much smaller to the dragon-queen.

“When Qliphoth created you drones with the intent of being able to do everything, did she include making jokes?” As Lorok stares down AR, she looks over their body. Quivering, always, but not as much as before. Their wings remain folded on their back, and their tail has yet to curl in fear like the first time. Lorok’s eye retracts, face turning again so she may gaze upon the drone with both her eyes. Her face is still incredulous, yet all manner of hostility is gone.

“... You are completely serious…?” AR stands from their partial crouch. Looking up to Lorok, one wing nervously raises to form the Black-Dragon Salute again.

And then they nod.

“Truly?” Another nod, this time followed by their voice.

“P-perhaps I should have- have shown a… Better example?”

Lorok’s incredulity fades, her face returning to unreadability. Her claw raises toward the screen.

“Go on, then.”

The taps against the screen are honed and meticulous, discipline picking up where confidence falls short. Both the model of Igoli and Earth are minimise into a corner as a new box expands forth, this time showing an image: A furry, four-legged thing, its fur is an interlace of gray and red. Its head is long and narrow, its body even more so. Yet it is muscular, tall, with a sharp eye more akin to a predator than a scavenger.

“This is… a Coywolf.”

Glowing lines trace from the creature’s body, ending in boxes highlighting various small traits and data.

“55 pounds, very strong, very fast, and also very intelligent. This animal was able to coordinate in groups in order to take down prey animals much larger, stronger, and more aggressive than them.”

Lorok bows her chin, eyes narrowing.

“Impressive… I am to assume it too came about from the end of a world?”

“Perhaps the world was too large a scale. The fault is mine.” AR salutes again.

“This animal came about through a different form of peril. They descend from Wolves, even larger and stronger than them. Once the rulers of the Earthen plains, uncontested by any other predator. But none could foresee that their first true challengers would be of such incomprehensible advantage. Indeed they were no match for a more ‘advanced’ species…” Lorok immediately sneers.

“Humans…” AR nods.

“The perfect cheaters in the game of life. Scraping metal from the earth, and shaping them into their shells and claws, their wings and fins…” Solemn blooms in the drone’s eyes.

“Molding them into facsimiles of larger kin. Rather than leviathans and behemoths, there were ‘submarines’ and ‘tanks’. Rather than the glory of competing species vying fang and claw, there was the tragedy of total obliteration-” AR huffs.

“-From a ball falling from the sky.” Lorok nearly recoils, her sneer splitting her lips wider than her mask would seem to allow. From within the gaps, teeth bristle against one another. Eventually her face settles, and she lets out a huff of her own.

“So, how did the wolf survive, then?” Lorok mused, head turning back to the image.

“They couldn’t. Humans hunted them ferociously. They desired not the meat for food, nor the fur for nests. It was the need to possess dominance over the prey populations, at first. Then it became a sport. Then entertainment. And motivation only continued to degrade as destruction continued to build…” Lorok keeps her eyes away from AR, yet they know she’s suppressing a growl.

“... In the end their saviors came in the form of opportunity and niche. The humans had little metal when they first invaded the plains. Wolves were able to adapt as the humans steadily became more ambitious, rather than be immediately annihilated with their machines. And during this time, there was a breakthrough.” AR pulls a final box, displaying two images. The wolf, as well as another who seemed utterly diminutive in comparison. Scrawny, shaggy, with none of the grey of the larger beast. Only red.

“Coyotes are a much smaller species. Faster, more versatile, and stealthier. Having evolved as scavengers long before humans arrived, they choose a different path which just happened to be more perfect. They had the same time to adapt to human occupation as Wolves, yet their particular niche allowed innovations in surviving humanity more than wolves.” Lorok’s eyes switched to the drone, intrigue dissolving her anger.

“Yet they were stuck as scavengers, ill suited to dominate the wild. They would remain in their bracket of the food chain, possibly for eternity, never able to reach too high lest they be exterminated by humans and their neverending need for more space, and their neverending cruelty in defending what has been claimed.” Lorok looks at the coyote and wolf, and deems now to be the time to guess.

“They hybridized, then.” She began. Her head tilts up as she lets out the subtlest giggle.

“The superior ability to integrate among human-controlled environments, now augmented by the size and strength of an apex predator. Both species survive, combined into one.”

“In response to a threat.” AR points out.

“Insofar, the only challenges to the subjects down on Igoli have been climate and terrain. More selective pressures are needed to produce wider variety, and the easiest and most efficient are the ones involving death. Smaller critters, no matter how belligerent, cannot create such an influence on their evolution.” Lorok’s claw shoots up, thumb and middle finger pressed together tightly before sliding past each other.

A resounding ‘ping’ resonates across the laboratory’s many tubes, the feedback nearly enough for AR to almost try and cover their ears. Yet the image of Lorok standing tall, hand comfortably perched on hip aided by a very thin waist, renders them a statue.

“We introduce new predators. Fair ones, this time. They build their own power on other islands across their own timelines, then we release them onto the continent. A controlled attack at the native hierarchy, forcing them to adapt.” AR’s neck-plates click from the fury of their nodding.

“With how we choreograph the invasion, we can trigger other adaptations besides hybrids! They will scatter, spreading to farther corners which can produce more unique adaptations in response to climate and environment! Some will choose to fight, becoming bigger and stronger! Some may even choose to hunt. Others will run, hide, climb, swim, all in new ways and new directions different from simply exploring the world at leisure!” AR recoils as Lorok is once again in their face. Yet her expression now is unlike anything they have ever seen.

Excitement. Giddy, glee, all manner of pleased that is entirely unlike what was mere moments ago the most terrifying (yet oddly alluring) thing in AR’s life. And through all of said life, was the single highest power. The greatest authority. Yet now?

The smile on her face was beautiful, at every angle her head turned in her sudden outburst.

“Camouflage! Horns! Prehensile tails!” She shoots to her full height again, arms raised high. Even with her wings still folded, her limbs seem to stretch across the whole room.

“This is what humanity could have been! What it should have! Endless mutation, refined and perfected into tools and weapons! The body, shaping and molding to all that dares stand in its way!” Her arm swoops around, fist crushing air.

“All united as one in an empire, to sail across the stars on the backs of giants! And to know that those giants are our very own kin…” Her fist unclenches to graze along the ceiling of the lab. Soundlessly, the ceiling vibrates. Like lights the sense of the drone and the dragon-queen spark, acknowledging its presence. Of a great beast, so large as to carry millions within itself. Who, by every possible interrogation, is beyond doubt one of them.

With sense still aflame, her head twists to a tube in front of her. Ignorant of the contents within, Lorok’s sole focus is her reflection. Claws dance along her cheeks, still taut from her smile. Teeth reflect from the glass, which only seems to highlight more of herself. Her shoulders, silky and dainty, yet plated in keratin pauldrons filled to the brim with muscle. Arms and thighs, lithe and lethal, flowing from herself like strokes of a brush. Hips, curvy and prominent thanks to a waist as thin as a blade. Her organs were safer stored in her back-plates, anyway~.

“Uh, my liege?” Lorok freezes, startling AR to also freeze. Her body relaxes, wings and tail settling as she hastily rebuilds her composure. Her head cranes again, neck stretching as the rest of her remains still. With her side turned to AR, her armor obscures her form from them. Darkness blending her plates together in one jagged, serpentine mass. Thus her draconic silhouette returns.

“You, little one, have done well.” She turns, her stride lumbering as she slinks down to all-fours. Neck held in an S, her regality basks in the light of the laboratory. Elegant as the mythical beast whose name becomes her and her species.

“As queen of the Black-Dragons, I forgive you for your previous infraction. In exchange, I would have you share more of your ‘ideas’ with me.” The smile upon her lips is imperceivable to the one from before. From seeing AR look up at her with such awe, she feels it is warranted. Whatever sully of an underling seeing something she couldn’t now seems like utter tosh.

For the look on that drone’s face spoke everything.

Fear, respect, obedience…

lust.

Whatever they had that she didn’t, they are too willing to simply give now.

Away from them, however, far across the lab in the very darkest corner, a single giant tube vibrates. Obscured by a forest of fellow containers, it is entirely invisible to the eyes and ears of the preoccupied drone and queen.

One subtle thump, and then another. A gaze within immediately reveals an immense, armored head. Six horns curl around knife-like ears, framing a severe porcelain face. Not unlike Lorok's. A body rippling with muscle as it is flowing with curves, equal parts beastly and voluptuous. Thickly plated arms, shifted away from humanoid shoulders onto an inhumanly muscular back, spread from her body like wings. Her shoulders lead to massive firm breasts, which lead to sharp abs, before finally ending in meaty hips and thighs.

One bristling limb ends in a stunted bone, cracks and crevices barely able to show what could have been fingers and a wrist. The other continues much further, twin shafts of bone erupting from the stump nearly touching the bottom of the tube. Jagged barbs and fans spread along each tip, if it couldn’t be anymore clear that such a limb was designed only to gore and impale. Indeed, it was as though a bolt of lightning exploded from the bleeding stump of its arm and hardened into a solid spear, dreadful and terrible. The same can be said of their legs, one ending in a shriveled and useless tumour at the thigh, where the other stretches as long as they are tall, scaled and girthy, ending in ebony talons.

Her body is swaddled in an immense tail bristling with yet even more muscle. Along its back, bony spikes and plates tear through her own flesh, each crag spider-webbed in torn skin stretched taut. Its tip is hard and arrow-shaped, nearly unremarkable from the tail of a devil. Yet even this creation, brutish as first glance would show, is cloudless in their expression. A bliss devoid of emotion as they’re held aloft in the tube.

Plump lips crowning the front of a short and thick maw, sharp cheeks and pointed nose humanizing an otherwise beastly head. Her eyes, blood-red spheres crowned by piercing blue rings, stare into nothing. The keratin screen, which has remained open for the entire time, shows the white dot noting her tube pulsing brighter than the others. More than a heartbeat, but nothing near brain activity. The shining light is blurry, and is obscured many times by hands of wildly different size running across it. Each blink elicits the tiniest twitch from the corner of her eye.

In the end, it seems her own eyelids are too heavy to lift, suspended as she is in this tomb. Blade-like eyelashes flutter, before darkness finally melts over her vision.