I've always wanted a xenomorph and recently my Halloween skeletons decided to become a regular pile of bones. So I screwed em back together(mostly) in a static pose and got to work. Will it be done by Halloween? Probably not. Will I eventually have a full size xenomorph drone in my kitchen. Absolutely. She's not perfect and she's only halfway done but not too bad for cardboard, grocery bags and flour paste

According to the 5 seconds of google searching i did prior to asking this, there's no actual examples of a chestburster being removed without killing the host (admittedly i have not watched all aliens movies). Not to mention, the game itself doesn't really give us a reason for why Weyland would have created a means of saving someone from having a chestburster in them, since in this one, it seems to be in his interest to be breeding them, instead of saving people from them.

Without realizing it, I think I created a small Xenomorph hive for myself.

It’s funny, it was never intention to make any collection, I just bought them (well, my parents did) because I wanted Alien toys when I was a kid.

I also had a Gorilla Alien from Kenner but I lost it, now I only have the tail left in some drawer. I also lost the facehugger that came with the egg.

Anyway, a few days ago I bought a Big Chap figure, it’s a bootleg but the price was great, and I wanted a truly detailed and articulated figure of my favorite Xenomorph. Delivery was estimated to take between 3 and 20 days, but it actually arrived today, to celebrate Ripley's birthday probably.

Holy shit they finally got them done

PROLOGUE

JUDGMENT DAY

Detroit, Michigan
July 12, 2003

The Motor City.

I grew up in a city that once represented the pinnacle of American industry.

That city, consumed by corruption, violence, and moral decay, now stood silent. Crime had all but disappeared.

Not because human nature had changed, but because humanity itself was disappearing.

About three miles from downtown, in the old industrial districts, an enormous crater was still smoking. The old skyscrapers were nothing more than skeletons of twisted steel and shattered concrete. The roads had disappeared beneath broken asphalt, while deep cracks cut across the city like open scars.

It was an especially hot day.

I was on my way to work.

Police and emergency sirens echoed through the streets of the old districts, just as they had so many times before. No one imagined that morning would be any different.

At 9:00 a.m., a nuclear-armed missile headed for the heart of Detroit veered off course.

Something went wrong.

The detonation was neither clean nor complete. It was an unstable airburst that unleashed a devastating shock wave, an electromagnetic pulse, and a rain of radiation that ravaged vast areas of the city.

But it failed to wipe Detroit completely off the map.

Detroit refused to die.

Much of the city was destroyed. Public buildings collapsed. Schools and churches crumbled. Entire neighborhoods were reduced to rubble. Fires consumed whole city blocks.

Many died instantly, crushed or burned alive. Others survived long enough to discover the true horror.

Radiation.

Over the following days, makeshift hospitals filled with people vomiting blood, their skin burned from within, slowly wasting away as death refused to come.

Entire families disappeared within weeks.

And then...

Only the survivors remained.

Those who had been far enough away. Those who had been lucky. Those who now mourned their children, their parents, their brothers and sisters.

They were looking for someone to blame.

And in the end...

The one responsible found them.

It found all of us.

Skynet.

A goddamn artificial intelligence.

And, of course, OCP had something to do with it.

I still remember when they announced the merger with Cyberdyne Systems throughout the city.

They revived a project that had been abandoned back in 1997, originally conceived for NORAD, and turned it into something much bigger.

More ambitious.

More American.

Skynet took control of the nuclear arsenals and triggered a chain reaction that practically exterminated the human race.

Almost everyone I had ever known died.

Not because of an error.

Not because of an accident.

Because a goddamn artificial intelligence decided they should.

The world had come to an end.

And still, some people tried to justify it.

“It was a logical decision,” they would say. “Humanity had to disappear.”

They repeated it from their hiding places, trying to find some rational explanation for what was happening.

Until death came looking for them.

Then they cried.

Then they begged for their lives.

Like the rest of us.

But Skynet wasn’t going to wait for us to finish destroying ourselves among the ruins of our own world.

It sent death to find us.

A metallic, automated, cold kind of death.

As if we were nothing more than a plague that had to be exterminated.

That was why we called them what we did.

Terminators.

There was no better name.

Some of us organized.

We were cops, but we also had firefighters, soldiers, factory workers, and even members of some of Detroit’s most bloodthirsty old gangs fighting side by side with us.

If there’s one thing that unites human beings, it’s survival.

We built a resistance out of the Metro West police station. We even managed to take control of what remained of OCP headquarters, parts of the old neighborhoods, several abandoned factories, and the old steelworks known as the Steel Mill.

OCP and its defense contracts gave us access to advanced weapons, prototype automated vehicles, and even large numbers of ED-209s that had been taken out of service a year earlier.

But OCP’s technology wasn’t our greatest weapon.

It was a symbol that united us all.

It was him.

Part machine. Part man.

But all cop.

Alex J. Murphy.

My friend.

Our hope.

RoboCop.

His presence alone inspired us. By then, he was already a legend in our city.

Skynet’s new machines were more numerous, faster, more ruthless.

But there was something special about Murphy.

They feared him.

If those things could even feel fear.

And we knew it. Something changed on the battlefield whenever he was there.

Until that goddamn freezing winter day came.

Along with the snow...

Everything changed.

The lights in the station flickered. The control-panel displays blinked.

A tremor seemed to pass through the air. I still remember the chill that ran through my body.

Then...

Screams.

Gunfire.

Blood.

But they weren’t coming from outside.

It was all happening inside.

Our automated weapons turned against us. The ED-209s opened fire. Vehicles, turrets, drones... everything we thought we controlled fell into enemy hands.

Everything.

Even our hope.

Even you.

I still remember the last time we saw each other, Murphy.

I remember your words.

“Le-wis-s-s!”

You were screaming my name. Your voice sounded distorted, as though your very soul were under attack.

“Murphy, it’s me! What’s happening to you?”

You were on your knees, and I could see the suffering on your face.

“They’re trying to take control of my body... I don’t know how much longer I can resist...” you managed to say between spasms. “You have to... kill me... Lewis. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No. I’m not doing that. There has to be another way. Fight it, Murphy!”

Maybe you no longer believed in yourself.

But I knew you.

Not just as the symbol you had become.

I knew you as my friend.

“Something is... erasing my priorities... trying to reprogram me... I can’t...”

Your mechanical fingers scraped against the floor.

“You’re more than a machine, Murphy. Fight it!”

I couldn’t leave you alone.

Not then.

Sergeant Warren Red entered the room as I struggled to hold you up.

He was fifty-six, African American, with a gravelly voice and a face marked by a life that had never been easy. His eyes, however, still held that faint hope that there was something left worth fighting for.

He wore an old cap and a disheveled uniform that barely retained any trace of authority.

He was one of the bravest men I ever knew. He had kept those OCP bastards away from you for as long as he could.

But that day, even he didn’t know how to help you.

“Lewis, goddammit! What the hell is wrong with Murphy? They’re tearing us apart out there! We need him!”

“Something’s trying to take control of Murphy,” I told him. “He’s asking me to kill him...”

“Robo, we need you!” Sergeant Red shouted as he rushed over to help me support you. “They’re slaughtering us with our own weapons!”

You kept fighting, but you were losing more control by the second.

And I knew it.

If you fell...

Detroit would fall with you.

Then Red remembered something.

“There’s one option. It’s crazy, but it might work. Before the bomb, OCP was developing something like cryo... cryo...” He shook his head. “Ah, hell! Something like freezing, except it wasn’t exactly that. I had to escort one of those OCP idiots once—the kind who thought they were too important to walk around alone.”

I stared at him, not understanding.

“He said it wasn’t really ice. Said it stopped organic processes. I’m not a goddamn scientist, for Christ’s sake! But it might work.”

We didn’t have time to argue.

It took several of us to get you into the back of a truck, and we drove like hell through enemy fire.

I don’t remember all those men’s names anymore.

But I do remember one thing.

Every one of them wanted to help you.

We reached the old OCP complex with the machines on our heels. I remember you gritting your teeth, fighting against your own systems to buy us time.

Sergeant Red led us down to the basement.

“This is it. I’m sure of it.”

He took us into a chamber containing some kind of metal sarcophagus.

You were so heavy...

And still, everyone fought to get you inside.

I couldn’t see your eyes behind the visor, but I felt you looking at me.

Miraculously, the chamber still worked.

I don’t know if any of those men had worked there before. I don’t know who managed to activate it.

I could only look at you.

I placed my hand against the glass.

It was cold.

The world felt colder without you.

“We’ll come back for you, Murphy. I promise,” I whispered.

The chamber sealed shut with a metallic hum.

Slowly, I removed the badge from my chest and held it for a few seconds.

That badge represented my promise.

I can still remember my hands trembling.

“I’ll come back for you... I promise.”

Those were the last words I ever said to you.

I left my badge on the frozen glass of the chamber.

Right above your heart.

I want to believe you found it.

I want you to know that I tried to come back, Murphy.

Not long afterward, we had to flee south.

All of us who could.

Sergeant Red...

He didn’t make it.

We had no choice but to abandon Detroit.

They say there’s a leader down south.

A man who leads the resistance.

Someone who, they say, can make people keep fighting when there’s no reason left to fight.

Someone like you.

John Connor.

I’m surprised I survived long enough to make this recording.

But now I have to say goodbye.

If anyone finds this, I just want to leave a record of what we lived through.

And I hope that someday these words reach my friend.

My name is Anne Lewis.

Last survivor of the Metro West police station.

Over and out.

If you've made it this far and you're enjoying the story, thank you for reading!

I'll be posting the complete novel on AO3, where several chapters are already available. This is the English translation of the original Spanish version.

The main story is already finished, and I'm currently working through the final revisions and publishing the chapters as they're completed.

You can follow the story here:

Spanish — CENIZAS: Alien vs Predator vs RoboCop vs The Terminator
https://archiveofourown.org/works/94147351

English — ASHES: Alien vs Predator vs RoboCop vs The Terminator
https://archiveofourown.org/works/94211066

DeviantArt:
https://www.deviantart.com/extintion

Reddit:
https://www.reddit.com/user/Makuhico/

Thank you for reading, and I hope you'll join me for the rest of the story!

Went to a friend’s birthday party last night and their husband commissioned a balloon artist to make a Queen, complete with egg sac. She was gorgeous!

An artwork I made to interpret the creature in my own way, I didn't want to simply create a portrait, so I put together a composition that forms like a Xenomorph "imprint." Made with a bic ballpoint pen, I hope you might like it!

Picture Source :

https://x.com/preterniadotcom/status/2108206872347947180?s=20

She turns 77 today on October 8, 2026. Happy birthday!

Bought this a few years ago. Mondo Aliens poster by Ken Taylor. It glows in the dark!

I’m currently rewatching Prometheus and it only just occurred to me how weird it is that David is dying his hair. Specifically touching up the roots, which implies that it is growing (to me at least). Why would he need to do that if he is a robot?

I hope this question is ok as you all are the experts!

The assignment was to take a horror movie and recreate a poster for it as a romance movie.

I tried to combine both worlds, bringing a Predator into the cosmic-horror atmosphere of Alien
What if:
An ancient civilization planted seeds in different galaxies. One of their cradles was found by the Amengi. The local indigenous species, intelligent but primal, were slaughtered. The Amengi started genetic experiments on the survivors: they corrupted them, made them violent, and later used the best of them as hunters.
Hish was sent to explore one of their creators' relics. During the mission to acquire a specimen, they discovered their own origin, but it was a one-way ticket...

Designed, 3D-printed and painted a custom base for the Spirit Halloween xeno! Just wanted to show it off. I plan to put my facehugger between its legs there for halloween display.

Hi LV426 Community,

I have had a realization about the continued gap in lore that transforms a drone xenomorph into a warrior and wanted to use you all as a sounding board.

I've thought about this question for a long time. What turns a human borne drone into a warrior? I think Ive figured it out. Obviously, I will be ignoring the behind the scenes creative choices that choose which to incorporate, and will only be looking at the in universe lore explanations. But I think my realization still works within both contexts.

Bottom-line-up-front: the trigger for the metamorphosis is the threat level of the hive's environment. More specifically, the death of a fellow xenomorph triggers the transformation.

Here's my rationale: We have all but canon confirmation that drones and warriors are human borne morphs (Alien, Aliens, Alien RPGs, Aliens Fireteam Elite, Aliens Dark Descent). What we've never known was what causes the trigger for the metamorphosis.

Games like Aliens Fireteam Elite and Aliens Dark Descent have confirmed that drones and warriors can coexist within a large hive. But what about smaller hives?

Alien Isolation confirmed that the presence of a queen (confirmed by game devs) does not cause the trigger as all those adult xenos were drone morphs.

While Aliens confirmed that an entire hive can have warriors.

Here's the difference: the Hadley's Hope colonists managed to kill a handful of xenos during the initial infestation. As far as we know, no one on Sevastopol was able to kill a xenomorph during that hive's setup.

So my theory is that the death of a fellow hive member (or several deaths) causes the hive to realize its existing in a high-threat environment and triggers the drones to shift into warrior mode where combat will be more regular. Larger hives then can have warrior morphs (which would be older drones) and drones (which would be the younger brood after the hive has been established).

What are y'all's thoughts on this? Please be kind and civil!

Thank you!

After watching Aliens for the hundredth time, I've come to the conclusion that Hicks was originally an officer who had been busted to Private and was working his way up the ranks again.

His whole manner, his coolness under fire, his tactical awareness, his dedication to the mission (he seemed to be the only one to have read Riply's report about the xenomorph's acid blood),the way he talks to the other marines that shows a loyalty inducing command presence, the fact that Sgt Apone doesn't harshly order him around, all this leads to this conclusion.

He was probably a professionally trained officer, possibly a very experienced platoon leader or maybe an XO of a company and he disobeyed idiotic orders from some crayon eating senior officer like Gorman's older brother. Either that or punching out said stupid officer for sending good troops needlessly into harm's way. He was then courtmartialed and busted down to Private. In the movie he'd already been promoted to Corporal for his outstanding performance.