MICAH
As long as ya boy doesn't choke, I’ll be good.
Now that I was fed, I could totally admit I’d thought Ziggy was popping the questionfor realoutside Yasstrum Force HQ.Then,I’d assumed the cock being offered was the one encased in Space Daddy armor. Both would have greatly improved my mood, but shoving Stellarian street food into my mouth was also getting the job done.
What can I say?
I get hangry sometimes.
“Better?” Ziggy asked as I cleaned my plate—err… banana leaf—at the city’s ‘safest bazaar.’ When I nodded, he smiled like he’d won the lottery, and I wondered how I could ever stay mad at this big idiot.
He’s trying his best.
It had taken a few bites ofcorpus spongiosum—and one harrowing swallow—but I finally felt like I was back to baseline.
“I’m sorry I yelled…” I peeked up at him through my lashes. “I just got myself all worked up over saying goodbye to Pedro, but that didn’t give me the right to take it out on you.”
Ziggy reached across the small stone table and patted my cheek so hard, I almost choked on my last bite of Neluth dick. “I wasn’t worried. You are far from the most frightening creature I’ve encountered.”
Thanks.
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that before.” I lovingly rolled my eyes and took a sip of Orgon’s milk, even though I still didn’t know exactly what it was. “But you’ve yet to tell me more about the big skerry alien that’s skerrier than you.”
Ziggy cleared his throat before taking a sip of his milk, which was suspicious as fuck. Stellarians didn’t need to eat or drink—not the way I did, anyway—so my man was clearly stalling.
When he noticed I was waiting impatiently for a reply, he pressed his lips together. “It’s not an alien. Not… exactly.”
My interest is piqued.
Unfortunately, my burning need to know was forced to wait as a commotion near the permanent stalls caught Ziggy’s attention. I followed his gaze to find a creature with six snake heads involved in what looked like a heated debate with a slender green alien selling gemstones and bundles of herbs.
Intergalactic witchy bitch shit.
To my delight, Ziggy stood and began strolling toward the action, so I scampered after him, eager for the tea.
Stellaria’s bazaars were a popular stop for aliens from all over, but it wasn’t always easy to tell if these creatures were locals in stolen skin—or scale—suits. Every now and then, I caught glimpses of the starry auras indicating the vessel was occupied—an ability we still couldn’t explain—but for the most part, I wasn't worried about being targeted for body snatching.
This skinsuit is taken, thank you very much.
The only Stellarians who seemed able to vaguely detect if a vessel was inhabited or not were the True Stellarians, although that was more based on vibes. Honnor and Bron made it sound like it was a mental block they’d had to overcome, but even with Ziggy knowing the truth, he hadn’t magically developed the skill.
Maybe he just needs to practice?
Either way, Zig made sure everyone knew who I belonged to through an effective combination of death stares and removing body parts from anyone who dared to touch me.
Overt tactics aside, just the sight of his recognizable armor sent most aliens running in the other direction. He was such a pro at resting bitch face, you’d think Zig barely noticed the effect he had on others but, thanks to our bond, I knew their terror gave him a little thrill.
Hey, no judgement!
Skerry Space Daddy bricks me up too.
Despite Ziggy’s strange hesitation to share which “not exactly an alien” was scarier than Stellarians, I also knew not much frightened him, so it was odd when he pulled me into the shadows of a nearby rock formation instead of taking a front row seat to the drama at the hippie cart.
“As I have told you, I do not carry karnilian!”the green-skinned stall owner hissed in the trade language, their large violet eyes darting around the crowd, as if concerned about eavesdroppers like us. “Possession of it has been outlawed for eons in most galaxies, including this one?—”
“But not in ours,” the snake-headed one rumbled before placing their clawed hands on the stall’s counter and leaning toward the scowling vendor. “We know it is here—we canfeelit—and if we have to search every gem stall at every bazaar on this planet, we will.”
Jesus, dude—chill.
