Tumgik
#Humans are space orcs
tanoraqui · 2 days
Text
In Which Space Orcs are Men
[AO3] A "what if humans are space orcs" take on Dagor Dagorath. (Aka the prophecied apocalypse of Middle Earth. Scifi story accessible to non-LotR nerds!)
Elves weren't really supposed to leave Earth. That's what they told us—the Elves, that is, told people thousands of years ago, when Elves could still be found here and there. When I was born, elves were nearly as much a fairy tale as they’d been on Ancient Earth.
Elves weren't supposed to leave Earth, the Elves said in the fairy tales, and in a few old scraps of records scattered around known space. They literally weren't made for it. They could only do it if they brought Earth with them—Arda they called it, leaves or dirt, water or a rare bubble of air, perfectly preserved in a white crystal. There are tons of tales about Elves losing their lifeline jewels—their hearts, their silimirs—and roping people into epic quests to get them back before they—the Elf—faded to nothingness. 
Even the jewels weren't enough, though. That's why there are also stories about Elves who fell in love with a person or a place and stayed there until they faded, or Elves who charmed someone into following them back to Fairyland on Earth...because whatever they said, Elves didn't really live on Earth. Humans have maintained their home planet as a monitored nature reserve since like the 40th century, open only to vetted research teams and serious Human religious pilgrimages. The most confirmed accounts of Elves that exist are of their ships appearing out of nowhere, with no trace of any tech that would enable it, at random, always-changing points within 100 miles or so of Earth.
Nobody ever came back from trying to follow Elves home. Mostly Elves tried to dissuade people from trying. But there are always crazy and curious people—and Elves usually attracted those, because any Elf who left the home they were "made" for was usually crazy and curious themselves. 
Those were the stories I grew up with. There was a cave near the orphans' creche which was supposed to be haunted by a faded Elf. I didn't really believe it—like I said, the last confirmed Elf was last seen like 5,000 years ago, and not even on my planet. People have met two dozen new sentient races since then. We've discovered that reincarnation is probably real (just functionally untrackable), prompting the Pan-Religious Reform Wars. The last person to see a live Elf was still traveling via natural wormholes—they literally didn't know that you could loop pi.
.
When the Human natal sun started to turn really red, it wasn’t that big a deal at first. It’s a very important, very sad event for any species, but it happens to everyone eventually. It happened to the Hectort just after we invented interstellar flight. There were some unusual gravatic waves around Earth’s Sol, but nothing worth noting to anyone who didn’t already care for personal reasons.
Then the Elves sent us a message.
The local Parks Service picked it up, of course. I bet the Humans meant to hush it up at first—though the Centaurian government still won’t admit anything—but someone leaked it immediately on the intergalactic net. It should’ve only been famous as a joke of a hoax, but…
It was basically just a metal box with rudimentary fire-thrusters soldered on the sides. It contained two things. The first was a recording/replaying device so antiquated that the only way they got it working is that it was already playing on loop, and didn’t stop until someone disconnected it from its power source.
The message was in Ancient Bouban, which some folklorist soon announced is the latest language an Elf could know, since the last known Elf went back to “Arda.” The voice somehow sounded melodic to every species with a concept of music, from the screeching Vesarians to the deep-sea sub-sonic Thinkers, even when translated through cheap, staticky speakers. And to most species, the speaker was audibly distraught.
They said,
This is the final message from the Firstborn of Eru to the Secondborn, and everyone else. The Battle of Battles has come, and we…are losing. If there are any who remember the ancient love and loyalty which bound our peoples, if there are any heirs remaining of Thargalax the Magnificent, of Nine-Fingered Frodo, of the noble Houses of Haleth, Hador and Beor—
The speaker drew a sharp breath, there.
—by great oaths and greater friendship I bid you now to raise your swords and ride to our aid. Ride as swiftly as you can!
We will hold for another year. We will, they said determinedly. After that, it is unlikely that…
Another, shakier breath. A smile forced into a voice which would rather weep.
Fëanáro and Nienna believe there is a way to destroy the Straight Road. If we must, if it comes to it, we will do so, and trap the First Enemy here in this dying world with us. Though I don’t know about—
Hair-aristocrat! a more distant, slightly less perfectly melodious voice called, in a language so dead that they needed computers to decode it. The walls are falling, we need to go!
If you never hear from us again, and no sudden discord arises among you, you will know we succeeded, the first speaker said quickly. If otherwise…I am sorry. Either way, I bid you all only, remember us! Oh beautiful flames, remember us, as we have ever remembered y— 
There was a sudden screech of tearing metal, a defiant, musical battle-cry, and a jarring silence. Then the message restarted.
And that wasn’t even the strangest thing in the box. The strangest thing was the recorder’s power source, which was powering the whole tiny rocket mechanism as well. It was an Elf-jewel right out of a fairy tale, a fist-sized, translucent not-quite-diamond—but instead of rock or water or a much-loved scrap of plant, the only thing it held was light.
...Kind of. It isn’t normal light. It arguably isn’t light at all, as we know it—scientists now think it’s technically some sort of plasmoid aether, except it only acts like a plasmoid aether about half the time. 
It has no detectable source within the jewel. It fully illuminates whatever space it’s in, no matter how big. Its visible radiation is a frequency, the scientists say, that matches a hyper-accelerated version of what the universe must’ve sounded like in the split second after the Big Bang.
It makes people remember things, when they see it in person or sometimes even across a holo. Some remember a similar light in a strange traveler’s eyes. Others, dreamily enchanted valleys where spring never faded, or tall castles, bright swords, and stern and glorious lords and ladies. And some of us got hit with a whole lifetime of memories in one go: an identical gem on the brow of a sober forest king, friends who slipped through trees like shadows save for their merry laughter, an impossibly beautiful gold-haired maiden dancing in a glittering cavern...
(And all the pain and loss that came with them.)
And some people just remember the sight of a distant star—in another world, in another lifetime.
Reincarnation was provable but untraceable…until now. 
The Thinker ambassador on Astrolax Station 5 was the first to kick up a fuss. Most Thinkers never leave their home planet, they're too huge and aquatic. But like I said, there's always crazy and curious people. The ambassador started bellowing the second che heard the message, without even seeing the light, because, "I know him! My Wisdom! We must send aid!" That made some news, and random other people shared their own, less dramatic revelations, and soon a compilation swept the net with timestamps showing that most of them were organically independent, not just jumping on the bandwagon….
Even that might've gotten written off intergalactically. The Thinkers are big in reincarnationist circles, on account of how they claim that deep in their planetary ocean they can hear echoes of their past lives. But being mostly planet-bound means they're not really influential on a big political level. Or it would've sparked another surge of the Reform Wars, and everybody would've remembered the rock, but not the recording. Or there would’ve been a fight over this potentially infinite energy source (though that is so last giga-annum)….
But first it was shown in person to the current Director of the Admiralty of the Astral Alliance, President of the X-ee Empire and Matron of the House of S,sh, Ch’ees/i’i S,sh. I was actually there—I was Captain of her ceremonial Alliance guards, in a last-ditch attempt to salvage my career after Zanzibus. Very ceremonial, considering the X-eee have laser-proof shells and pincers and I have, what, opposable thumbs? Vestigial tusks?
I wasn’t paying attention at first, too busy being suddenly assaulted by all my own memories. So I missed the President freezing mid-step and gasping (in X-eee), “Mother.” I also missed her rising alarm call of an attempt to speak Ancient Elvish without an Elvish tongue or lips.
I sure didn’t miss her snap back to X-eee for a sharp call to attention, and everything that followed: the call to arms! The rousing of the Alliance! A tour of the galaxy, to find anyone and everyone else in whom the Light could awaken ancient memories! And for the love of X'eeh, why had nobody figured out how to get back to Fairyland with this thing yet, and every warship in the quadrant?!
If I believed in the One Behind, or in any other creator god or gods—I'm not saying I do, but if I did, if there really is something out there all-powerful and all-kind—then it'd be because out of every soul in the entire universe, the probably one in the best position to act on the Elves' message turned out to have, from a past life, two parents and a much-loved twin still in Fairyland. Like, that's insane, right?
I stayed with the Director's ceremonial guards for the whole tour, actually more than ceremonial for once—it was the weirdest mission of my life, and I've been on a lot of weird missions. Or supposedly routine missions that got weird (and usually disastrous). My friends joke that I'm cursed. S,sh requisitioned an Inquiry-class ship, so the science boffins could study the Light and jewel along the way, and we started wormholing at weft speed, hitting a new planet every week. Sometimes every day. In each major spaceport and ground-city, S,sh stood with the jewel on the highest available point and gave a recruitment speech for going to save the Elves and fight the oldest enemy of all reality. 
Honestly, it seemed a little redundant? The Astral Alliance was made for this sort of rescue mission (and for escorting trade convoys). But I was...if not happy, then sure as hell more self-certain with my ancient memories restored, and most people who joined up seemed to agree. It was mostly people who remembered, when exposed to the Light, who joined—so before long, we had a whole tag-along trail of mostly civilian ships, trying to get up to Alliance Fleet standard on the road in less than a year.
Three different religious sects tried to kill S,sh for "profaning the mysteries." Five others tried to steal the jewel because we were apparently appropriating a holy object. The boffins announced that, bar the can't-prove-a-negative possibility, the evidently sourceless Light should be counted as an infinite energy source, and at least seven different groups, ruthless financiers and sustainability idealists, immediately tried to steal it for that. And I still don't know what the rival thief-queens of Likkiliani were about, except that I got tied up upside-down from a palmdar tree for two hours trying to stop one, the other paid me 700 cron then threw me off a cliff, and in the end they recognized each other from past lives and just made out on worldwide live-holo before joining our growing fleet. 
It turned out they were the Director's past life's great-grandparents, and a Canid pop princess was her niece. The Thinker ambassador was some sort of ancestor, too. Crazy extended family. 
Most people who remember just remember the sight of a star in the sky. A buddy of mine from Fleet Academy remembered looking up at it as a Human sailor. The historians—and you’d better bet we picked up some Earther historians on this mission as well!—say this jewel or one like it was probably astrologically conflated with the planet Venus by early Humans.
(The more time I spent around the jewel, the Silmaril, the more I remembered, of my first life and more. Lifetime after lifetime with bad luck dogging my steps, killing loved ones in my arms, destroying cities I was supposed to save… One restless, haunted night, I met a Rigilic in the cafeteria who’d been awake with some of the same nightmares, who’d been my dead older sister once.)
The tour was cut short when word came from the Earth system that there was a black hole growing in the center of their reddening sun. 
No, the sun wasn’t compressing into a black hole millennia ahead of schedule—one had just spontaneously manifested within it, like it’d teleported in. No, not literally—that was impossible. We were pretty sure. No, the sun wasn’t falling into it…somehow. Yet. The black hole was only 17 quectometers wide, but it was growing at an erratic but unceasing rate. If their best estimation of the pattern held, it would consume the sun 2 months before the Elves’ deadline, and the Earth 4 to 950 minutes later.
We pulled back to Earth—well, to the dwarf planet Eros, on the edges of Earth’s star system. That’s where the nearest shipyard of any note was, and we were gathering the whole Astral Alliance. This is exactly the sort of thing the Alliance is for. 
I was released back to ship duty. Zanzibus was still a black mark on my record, as was Jorab, and really everything on the AAS Endeavor…and that thing in third year of Fleet Academy… But no matter how bad my curse, I was an experienced captain and one of the best pilots in the Alliance. For this, we needed all the best.
The boffins had pretty quickly mastered limited manipulation of the Light, using modified aetheric resonators, and every day they came up with something new for us to test. They focused the Light into a laser cannon like no one has seen before. They laced it through plasma shields until a fully shielded ship glowed like a distant star. They managed to nearly replicate the Silmaril’s crystalline structure, so they could make “copies” that shone like the original for first a few hours; then, with refinement, a full week…
The one thing they couldn’t pin down with any real confidence was how to get to Fairyland. The frequency of the Light resonated with large bodies of Earther saltwater in a particular way, and models suggested that if the Light source moved horizontally along the water within a certain range of distance and velocity, the resonance would create a wormhole-like ripple in space—but wormhole-like, was the key word, and models suggested. The closest anyone had seen to that spatial distortion was in a logbook of dubious veracity from the Delta Quadrant, four hundred years ago. Alteia, my Academy buddy who’d been a Human sailor, took the Silmaril in an M-wing on a series of highly monitored test flights above the Atlantic Ocean, and space did repeatedly start to hollow in front of bom—so bo had to stop every time, rather than risk vanishing with our single, maybe-one-way ticket.
Then Earth’s moon stopped shining in the sky. Its albedo just dropped nearly to zero, from one night to the next. There was nothing wrong that anyone could figure out—nothing with the orbit, nothing with the surface rock, nothing with the artificial atmosphere. Inhabitants reported feeling colder by several degrees, but no measuring equipment recorded anything.
The black hole slightly off-center in the middle of Sol was now 844.9 zeptometers, and growing more steadily.
We didn’t have time to keep testing. We needed to raise our swords and make our ride, even if we only got one shot at it.
I was given command, for seniority, skill, and because I was the one who managed to talk S,sh out of leading the fleet herself. (If my lives had taught me anything, it was the importance of having someone, anyone, ready to be emergency backup.) Ironically, I was back on the Endeavor, with most of my old crew—though we got permission to rename the ship, in honor of the mission. A lot of people did. Alteia was now commanding the AAS Elendil on my right flank, star-friend in Ancient Elvish. That Canid pop princess had taken over a hospital ship and renamed it Rivendell. An Earth Park Ranger, of all things, remembered being my dad—briefly—and he was leading the Rangers plus my Rigilic drinking buddy on the EPSS Elfsheen. 
We weren’t sure if any ship but the one with the Silmaril would get through. The fleet numbered in the hundreds in battleships alone, not counting scouts and scuttlers. Twelve races had sent ships on top of their typical Alliance Fleet tithe, and S,sh had brought about half the full force of the X-ee Empire. We all just locked tractor beams and hoped. 
I was piloting as well as captaining, with the Silmaril between my forehorns. It was held in place by about a dozen wires and other connectors to the ship, like an old-timey pilot’s headset. We took off in orbit around Earth, as close as possible to the surface—not very close, in warships of Class S and higher, but within range of the oceanic resonance. A Likkilianian thief-queen stood at my shoulder, ready to advise if anything “Musical” started to happen.
Think about what you’re trying to get to, and why, the boffins had advised, so I did—bright-eyed kings and dancing maidens; lost friends, families, cities, planets and all. The jewel got warmer against my skin and shone brighter with every pulse of the engine, brighter than we should’ve been able to see through.
The silver-gold Light twisted and diffused as space did around us. But there was no familiar rippling wormhole boundary—instead, spacetime thinned to a curtain like driving rain, like Vesarian silver-glass.
A ghost appeared next to me. She looked like the oldest, grumpiest writing teacher at the crèche, though I knew that was only in my head.
“There you are,” she said, impatient and relieved like I’d been hiding in the sandbox again, rather than coming to class on time. Her sewing scissors went snip snip snip as she darted them around my body—and a chain on my soul faded into guiding threads.
Before she’d even disappeared again, I punched the engine and blasted through the silver-glass curtain.
Fairy tales said there’d be a peerlessly beautiful land on the other side, green with eternal spring, full of endless light and laughter. They said there’d be sunlit shores and shimmering waves, with welcoming docks for sea-ships, sky-ships and space-ships all…
We flew into the worst battlefield I’d ever seen, in any lifetime. It was more desperately vicious than Jerusalem V at the height of the Reform Wars, more ruined than Glaurung’s wake, more desolate than Zanzibus after the nuclears fell.
Either a massive supercontinent or a small moon had been shattered, leaving nothing but a roiling debris field. The brand-new meteoroids ranged from pebbles to rocks the size of a small space station, and included space-frozen corpses, forests, and what might have once been city blocks.
I gave the helm back to my Pilot Officer—zer had, I can admit, slightly better reflexes for dodging debris—and focused on captaining.
Most of the life signs were clinging to the larger rocks. There shouldn’t have been atmosphere for them, but walls of thunderstorm wrapped around every shard with even a single life sign—wind and water desperately hand in hand to safeguard the last of the Elves. The only thing visible through the impossible storms was the Light of a second Silmaril, on a meteoroid shaped like half a broken eggshell.
A corpse lay at the epicenter of the explosion—what might’ve been a corpse, if it wasn’t also shattered. The broken pieces of a massive stone humanoid, taller than my ship if it’d stood beside her, still bleeding lava so hot that it burned even in frozen space. Another titan knelt at the shards of its head, a figure of towering bark and leaves, wailing with grief even worse than the end of the world. 
A slimmer tree-woman stood with one hand on her shoulder, comforting, and the other wielding a skyscraper-sized club spiked with incandescent wildflowers. Guarding her sister’s heartbreak, she fended off a swarm of bat-sized monsters with wings of darkness and whips of flame. 
Bat-sized relative to the gods of Elves and ancient Humans. About the size of an M-wing, in flight.
Countless more of the bat-things flung themselves at the storm-bubbles, like carnivores chasing the prey hidden inside. They were fended off by an equal army of creatures with wings of light and swords of lightning, led by a towering figure who seemed to dance from one bloody battle to the next.
The biggest battle by far was the farthest away, over where the sun had been. In this dimension of stories over science, Sol was another woman-shape, smaller than the others but burning just as brightly as her star. Also just as blood-red. The light was centered on a fist she kept clenched at her chest, and instead of containing the black hole, the unseeable thing that it was here surrounded her, striking at her with a thousand hungry jaws and grasping legs, and she had only a one-handed whip of a solar flare to fend it off—
But she didn’t fight alone. A warrior tore at the Darkness’s spidery limbs with his fists, image on the cameras flickering impossibly between every hero I’d ever heard of. A snarling figure bit at it with jagged teeth, gored it with horns, shredded it with claws and talons, and generally made every ancient prey-instinct in me scream. And a queen with a crown of stars, a shield like the night sky and a sword like a streaking comet, stood dauntlessly at the sun-holder’s side. 
With all that, and with the speed of even her most exhausted strikes, I thought the sun-holder could probably have gotten away if she’d tried. But I knew how a person fought when they weren’t willing to leave a friend, and a smaller, silver figure lay at her feet, unmoving and drained of light.
But even the battle for the sun wasn’t what grabbed my eye. No—all my attention, all my guiding threads of fate and the quick temper that always used to get me in trouble, before (and sometimes after) I learned to leash it in an Alliance uniform— All of that took me straight to the fight happening orthogonal to the stone giant’s corpse.
It was another one-versus-many. Morgoth, the First Enemy of Elves and Men— Master of Lies, Maker of Chains, Sonofabitch Curser of Bloodlines—towered over even his fellow gods. His shape changed constantly, sickeningly, but it was always black-armored with eyes like dying stars that hated you personally. His maul dripped with lava and every other kind of blood.
He fought against three great gray figures who moved as one. The tallest wielded a star-studded scythe with swift, efficient strokes, and wore the dark gray of corpse-shrouds. The shortest shimmered with more colors than even a Stamotapadon could dream of, and his weapon shifted likewise. The third was the clear, clean gray of skies after rain or tears run dry, and fought with only a shield—and hit harder with it than either of her brothers.
Around their heads darted the only Elves on the battlefield, in small fliers more like sea-ships than aircraft. But they moved fluidly, pestering the Dark Lord like flies, pricking his skin and threatening his burning eyes.
Until Morgoth swung his maul with a roar of fury that traveled even though soundless space. My ship and heart both shuddered. The gray gods all staggered back, and the Elves fell from the no-longer-sky—all but their leader, more fire than flesh, who wore the third Silmaril. Morgoth caught him in one massive black hand and with sharp claws plucked the jewel away, as easily as a ripe berry from a tree—
“All power to fore-cannon and fire,” I ordered—and the jewel on my brow shone bright again as several stored months’ worth of infinite Silmaril-Light slammed into Morgoth’s chest with all the force that the best scientists in the Astral Alliance could engineer. 
He stumbled. He dropped both the jewel and the elf-king (who’d been trying to bite him). The Lady of Mercy tossed her shield to catch them, staying low and out of sight—though she needn’t have bothered. The so-called “Lord of All” had already found his next enemy.
“All ships, move forward and join shields,” I ordered, and met his burning stare though the viewscreen. “Then broadcast me on all external frequencies.”
The wires on my forehead shimmered as we shifted Light-flow to the shields—and to my right, so did the Elendil, and to my left, the Cosmian Blade, and all around us the Minas Tirith, the Elfsheen, the Muse, the Rivendell, the Heart of Zanzi, the Longbottom Leaf… They were still soaring out of the silvery distortion behind me, tractor- and Silmaril-towed: sleek Rigilic eels-of-prey and Centaurian cruisers full of Humans eager to fight for their homeworld, Betan mine-ships and Canid X-M-wings and my own Hectoan starlighters, a full third of the X-ee navy with their X-eee–shaped six-engine dreadnoughts, and hundreds more. 
“This is Captain Pel Cinia, once Túrin Turambar, of the Astral Alliance ship Gurthang,” I said. My words were broadcast from every ship on every frequency in every language that the people of Arda might know, as the Fleet assembled from forty-plus different worlds flew into position. Our Light-infused shields blazed and locked together, until we formed a seamless wall right in the Enemy’s face, with the Elves and their other allies safely behind us.
I’ve never felt more proud to recite the most cliché line in the Fleet:
“We got your distress call. We’re here to help.”
151 notes · View notes
wolven91 · 2 days
Text
Inventors
When humanity joined the rest of the races amongst the stars, it was a cause of celebration across the stars as they paraded the humans through the GC ring world, regardless of the gaunt and tired faces that the ticker tape and confetti fell upon.
The celebration was confirmation that there was yet more to the universe to see! The melancholy that had plagued the races for two hundred years was over! There was yet more life in the galaxy! What humanity learnt in the coming weeks and months, was the reason *why* humanity being found and brought into the fold was so important.
It was because the wider galaxy; had stagnated.
No new ideas were being made. No new technology besides mild improvements of what had already been there. No new fashion, just old things recycled again and again. Not even concepts that were commonplace and obvious to humanity had been even thought about by the wider GC. It was so bad, for so long, there was a statement that confused most humans when they heard it. The galaxy was so stagnant, that not even so much as a new recipe had been discovered in over a hundred years.
So, when humanity appeared, most of the races didn't even *think* of asking them whether they had any new ideas they wanted to share with the galaxy, they assumed that the races had not only thought of everything, but that humanity couldn't have possibly discovered new things on their own.
In the end, it was little things that were slowly added to the combined technology of the Galactic Community.
An 'umbrella' was created on a planet that only ever had rain. A blanket with sleeves in was invented for a long-haul transport trip.
'Unique' and 'inspired'.
So obvious most of the races from the stars merely blinked and wondered how they could have possibly missed such marvellous and simple ideas.
Humanity! The little inventors that *could*!
It was brilliant PR for the little race to buck off the sombre knowledge they were nearly extinct to add their own work into the tapestry of the GC. The heads of state even gave a small speech of how, regardless of whether in a hundred years humanity was still with the GC, their little contributions would mean they were remembered forever!
The console screen snapped off and the remote thrown across the room, hitting a cushion with a solid 'thud'.
"Fucking twats." Growled the human, still glaring at the now blank screen, fuming.
A canid's head popped around the doorframe at the outburst with his ears perked and eyes attentive. The human was facing away, but the tense shoulders and anger in Ted's voice told Kiv that the human needed him. The scent was acidic and figuratively burnt the back of Kiv's snout.
"You okay Teddy?" Asked the canid, quickly washing his hands and running them down the messy grey fur of his thighs to dry them. Padding into the room, the human now had his hands on his hips but was staring at the blank console screen mounted on the wall. From Kiv's perspective, he was like an ursidain; a living mountain. The tight green shirt running along and highlighting the corded muscles of his back, neck and shoulders.
"Teddy?" Asked the canid again, gently. He stepped around the oversized sofa and tapped the tips of two of his claws together, holding his hands in front of his chest as a nervous tick. Kiv was a nervous soul and despite doing nothing to earn the ire of the human, there was still a part of the canid that blamed himself for anything negative in the world around him.
The human turned to face Kiv and the mostly fleshy face broke into a tired smile, easing Kiv's fears.
Kiv was not your average canid. He was an outlier by a large margin. As a canid, he was considered 'disabled' despite being perfectly capable to exist in society without the need for help. But Kiv wasn't considered 'capable' in his own species' eyes.
Kiv was a runt. Incapable of serving the military or even private security in any capacity.
At barely 5'5, the canid had to look up at the 6'3 human who dwarfed him in all ways. Kiv practically had to bend his back and crane his neck just to look his fellow canids in the eyes, saying that they could reach up to 10 feet in height. The human blinked and sighed through his nose before speaking. 
"Sorry Kiv, I got... annoyed at the TV." Replied the human, gesturing with a limp arm and allowing the tension that was in his broad shoulders to melt away with another sigh. The human merely turned to the canid and wrapped his arms around the short, furry alien. Kiv closed his eyes and rumbled into the nap of Teddy's neck, relishing the thick broad arms of the human, holding him in place. The human, without issue of effort, lifted the wiry canid from the floor and flopped down onto the sofa. It had been built for the titan-esque ursidains in mind; the furniture barely noticed both the human and the tiny canid.
Relaxing into Ted's hug, Kiv didn't know what a 'TV' was but could guess that it was the news that had annoyed Ted. It usually was.
"What were they saying?" Kiv asked quietly after a moment of them both laying there.
"Congratulating us poor, helpless humans and how we're doing *super* and that if we die out, that's okay; we invented stuff." Ted replied with a gruff, annoyed tone. It still made Kiv nervous. The mere tone was enough to set him on edge despite Teddy never *once* raising his voice in anger for frustration at the canid.
Kiv's ears laid flat as he gazed up at his human longingly. Kiv never believed he could be a real canid before meeting Ted. Canids each had an instinctual drive to protect and defend others. It mostly meant one's pack, but when Kiv simply wasn't included in a pack, all he wanted was someone who could rely on him, despite being a runt.
Then he had bumped into the mountain of a creature that was Theodore. Ted or 'Teddy' for short. Kiv liked how only *he* was allowed to call the human 'Teddy'. The human had mistaken Kiv for a cub at first, which the canid couldn't blame the human for. But after that crash introduction, the pair of them had become close friends. Kiv had shown the human around the station in a manner not approved of by the administration and the human had met an equal, one that didn't treat him like a lesser being. Kiv had to admit that he had fallen for the human almost instantly in the beginning...
Moving in together had been pragmatic. Sharing each other's bed was merely the natural progression of things, much to the canid's absolute joy. He had never dreamt that he could have had such a wonderful life when he was growing up.
Kiv gently licked the underside of Teddy's chin, pulling the hulking figure out of his thoughts again.
"You don't need their approval. Since when have you needed anyone's?" Asked the canid carefully, pointing out the truth. The human grinned and planted his soft lips against Kiv's leathery nose once. Kiv licked it as a habitual response.
"You are the only one that matters to me. Just annoyed. I feel called out." Replied the human, merely articulating his feelings for the alien.
"Don't! You're a brilliant inventor! Your invention is going to change the stars! Every canid from here to Anul-6 is going to want one! Even if you only sold them for a single credit; you're never going to have to work another day in your life! We could-"
But Kiv stopped himself and laid his muzzle flat against the human's chest, preventing him from spiralling and talking too fast and too much. He had a habit of getting excited then speaking so much that people found it annoying. Kiv didn't want to annoy Teddy...
"Hey! Hey, hey hey..." The human coaxed, aware that the canid was once again silencing himself. The human used his arms to hug and squeeze the canid to get his attention. Ted was aware that Kiv was used to being shut down by others, merely because his opinion was worthless to them thanks to his size. "What was it? 'We could' what?" The human asked calmly.
"You'll laugh." Accused Kiv, nervous and feeling vulnerable.
"Never at you darling. *Never* at you. What could we do if this works?" Promised the human, using his finger and thumb to being the canid's head up and catch his gaze, holding it; silently promising nothing but respect and love.
"We could... get a little plot of land..." Whispered Kiv in a tiny voice.
"Oh? That would be nice... Whereabouts?" Whispered Ted right back.
"...I always liked the looks of the ursidain forestry worlds... They sell little parcels... I... um... That was my dream. To earn enough to buy one..." Mumbled the canid directly into the chest of the human, the insides of his ears turning a bright pinkie red, that had the human grinning from ear to ear.
"Alright then. That's the goal." Ted said with a firm tone and a curt nod.
Kiv's head snapped right back up, nearly clocking the human under the chin with the canid's skull.
"But what about you?" The furry, wolf-like alien demanded.
Teddy snorted.
"Like I had a 'plan'. Until you came along, I didn't have anything, or anyone left to make plans *with*. At least now..." He touched his nose to the canid's muzzle again. Kiv licked again. "I have someone to dote on."
The pair laid there for a time on the sofa, merely enjoying each other with their eyes closed. Eventually Ted sighed and with a single hand, reached out to the coffee table where one of his prototypes laid there. Grasping it, he held it up in one hand and turned it over.
'This is so stupid' Ted thought to himself, only to have Kiv, seemingly read his mind and pipe up.
"They're brilliant you know. I mean it."
"You really think they'll be popular?" The human gave it a squeeze and physically felt the response from Kiv as he laid on the human. The rubberised material deformed in the human's grip and forced the air out of the hollow insides through a squeaker. The high pitch squeal gave one note, then drawled another as air flooded back in once Ted had relaxed his grip.
His eyes flicked to the canid, who despite living with these things now for a few weeks, was still; completely and utter enraptured by the object. His eyes and ears were locked on and as Ted held the toy still, raised above the canid, Kiv could help but lick his chops and begin to shake in anticipation.
Ted broke out into laughed and scooped the canid up into a hug and rolled the alien against the back of the couch as he began peppering the smaller creature with kisses, his foul mood; long forgotten.
[r/WolvensStories]
[Ko-Fi]
93 notes · View notes
injuries-in-dust · 2 days
Text
The humans call her the "mom-friend."
The aliens call them the "human-wrangler."
Because she can usually get the humans to stop doing acts-of-human, and if she can't, she always knows how to deal with the aftermath.
112 notes · View notes
put-born · 1 day
Text
123 notes · View notes
Text
It sucks trying to date as a human on a planet where humans are a minority, and all of the dominant races are ones who've had limited contact with humans. Most alien cultures either think of humans as disunitied conquerors and raiders who subjugate other races, or as a diaspora who live on other species' planets and who are useally involved in the criminal underworld. So everyone who wants to date you has all these weird fetishes, about how they're getting to fuck this dangerous amoral space monster, and you're just like, a normal person. And like, people from the more common races where you live don't ever understand that.
Both people who want to be domed by you and people who want to dom you specifically focus on the fact that you're from an exotic race that most people think of as violent. Everyone either focuses on how weird and unique you are, or how dangerous you are. And like, even when you want to do something kinky you don't really want to focus on the fact that you're human. And there's really nobody who has any fantasies about you that are wholesome or soft, even when they don't mention that you're human they never think about being sweet or kind to you. It is what it is.
64 notes · View notes
human-facts · 2 days
Text
FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT HUMANS ARE MADE OF STARDUST. INSIDE OF EACH OF YOU ARE CHEMICALS ONLY OTHERWISE FOUND IN SUPERNOVAS AKA GIANT RAINBOW DEATH EXPLOSIONS.
NO MATTER HOW MYCH YOU HATE YOURSELF, NO MATTER HOW MANY MISTAKES YOU MAKE, NO MATTER IF YOU THINK YOURE NEVER GETTING BETTER PLEASE REMEMBER THAT ALL OF YOU HAVE REMNANTS OF GIANT RAINBOW DEATH EXPLOSIONS INSIDE OF YOUR APE FLESH BODY.
63 notes · View notes
push-wrong-admit · 2 days
Text
121 notes · View notes
Link
Chapters: 6/7 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Class 1-A & Midoriya Izuku, Class 1-B & Midoriya Izuku, Kendou Itsuka & Monoma Neito, Izumi Kouta & Midoriya Izuku Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Monoma Neito, Kendou Itsuka, Izumi Kouta, Wild Wild Pussycats (My Hero Academia), Class 1-A (My Hero Academia), Class 1-B (My Hero Academia), U.A. Faculty (My Hero Academia), Melissa Shield, David Shield Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Space, Humans are space orcs, Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia), Class 1-A Friendship (My Hero Academia), Alien Cultural Differences, Class 1-A Shenanigans (My Hero Academia), Class 1-B Shenanigans (My Hero Academia), Humans Are Deathworlders, Forest Training Camp Arc (My Hero Academia), Crack Series: Part 8 of A Guide to Death Worlders Summary:
Yuuei takes a field trip to Planet Earth. Neither the aliens nor the humans are ready.
24 notes · View notes
nopennyallthoughts · 7 months
Text
One thing that I am 100% convinced would send an alien into cardiac arrest is sweating.
It sounds stupid but think about it: apart from horses, humans are the only species on earth that can sweat so it's not a far stretch to believe it would be incredibly rare in extraterrestrials as well.
Just imagine, one day the AC in the main engine room is broken and everyone starts panting like crazy because of the heat, but the human? Just keeps working like usual? It's not like they aren't affected by the heat at all, but they aren't breathing quite as hard as the rest and everyone thinks ahh yes, humans must have extreme durability to heat coming from that death planet. And then. The human starts melting?!?? And suddenly everyone is panicking because their human is leaking all sorts of important nutrients, metals and water out of every pore - are they dying? Surely this cannot be normal!
And the human has to explain that, no they are perfectly healthy and yes it is actually just the human body's way of cooling itself down and no they don't think it's "the coolest thing ever!!", wait till it starts to smell!
10K notes · View notes
garcavisconde · 2 months
Text
Humans accidentally awakened an otherwordly killing machine while exploring a death planet.
Yes, precisely what you just read. Earthlings, collectively known as "humans" and composed of two species (homo sapiens, homo robot), both nicknamed "death worlders" and "troublemakers", awakened a biological killing machine, also known as PRION, while exploring a starless moon. Wonderful, isn't it?
No. It's not.
Because, you see, PRION was not something any human ever had to face during the millions of years they existed on Earth. They never had any wars against it, they never had legends about it, and they never had to fear it. The only thing a PRION was to a human, until the very point they discovered their prison on that moon, was something to sometimes think about while studying other species' folklores.
Those older than earthlings, however, knew very well what PRION was.
Eight legs, two pairs of eyes, a tail split in half, with the ability to fly for short periods of time and breathe under at least fifteen hundred different liquids, capable of shooting from a distance and manipulating objects with its claws, always working on packs. And they ran, never too fast, never too low, but they never got tired. Ever. And it was easy to hurt them under their plates, yes, but those who faced them knew well that if they didn't shoot twice, they could and would always recover.
A PRION was a hunter. A PRION's hunger never ceased. And a PRION never got tired of war.
The older alien civilizations would always warn others of going to starless moons, saying telltales of ancient hungry beasts, and almost all other species listened to them, because they knew something was wrong on how horrified the older ones seemed to be. Except, of course, humans were stubborn, and they were the youngest ones out there, and much like children, they did not like being told "no".
So of course they went to explore starless moons. Of course they read and understood all the myths and legends. Of course they connected the dots and published papers confirming that, indeed, PRIONs had existed, and of course they knew those killing machines had been manufactured to do nothing else but destruction, and of course they knew all of that and fucking did it anyway.
Of course. Of course. Of course.
And then, the night where it happened finally arrived, because starless moons don't have days where things can exist. Humans were out there, mining for more fuel for their starships that seemed to work by duct tape and miracles, and they found a strange metallic door. They set some explosives to open it up (of course), and then noticed they were heading to a factory. Armed with nothing but each other, they explored the place, and recognized the marks on the walls as being the writing of the Old Ones, and instead of just getting out of there and warning everyone of the danger they found, they just kept on exploring.
The death worlders found rotten biological supplies, then realized the factory had turned into a prison, and then discovered the frozen bodies of strange creatures all lined up for a war that never came.
They knew what these creatures were, because one of them called a (human) friend who was a historian, and he confirmed what it was.
The golden jewel of the Old Ones. One of the many things that killed them, along all the diseases and mass destruction machines, before being sealed away in one of the only places in the entire universe where they could never bring risk to another civilization again.
PRIONs.
Thousands of them.
All perfectly maintained.
Documents and cameras proved the human crew immediately tried to leave the area, after the single historian told them of the risk awakening even one of those things could bring to all civilizations, only for them to realize some of the bodies were missing from their chambers. The situation escalated to the group deciding on closing the doors, only to realize they had exploded the main entrance and now half the doors decided to stop working.
In the end, they found the missing PRIONs. All five of them.
Inside the human's starship.
The entire human crew, however, survived the encounter.
Why?
...
...
...
... They fed the PRIONs.
They. Fucking. Fed the PRIONs.
Because of course humans would see those things and be able to count their bones and be sorry for them. And of course the single historian, the only person who could do anything to stop that from happening, allowed that to happen.
Of course.
Of. Fucking. Course.
And someway, somehow, that single act of basic madness was enough for the five PRIONs to decide to not attack the humans, and keep themselves behaving so they could get more free food. And there are still scientists trying to understand why human food could saciate the killing machines, but I don't think it takes too many clues to understand what exactly is happening there.
So the humans took the PRIONs back to their dear EARTH. And other humans saw those things and started studying them. And veterinarians and xenobiologists and volunteers and hundreds of other types of humans came to help the poor, poor little killing machines out, as the entire Galactic Council pledged for humans to kill every single one of them before they became a problem for everyone.
But did the humans listen? No. Of course they didn't.
And then the PRIONs recovered, and had their bellies full of food and their bodies were recovering from the possible years of starvation from accidentally breaking away from their ice beds (because, as one may know, a PRION can and will resist even starvation and dehydration in order to keep going), and the Galactic Council decided to tell all earthlings they would consider taking care of the PRIONs as a war treat.
So what does humanity do? Do they kill the things to stop another war from happening? Do they?
No. They don't.
Instead of being rational, they go directly to the Galactic Council and show them the step-by-step of how they took care of the PRIONs, and how much healthier and happier they look after being fed, and, look, they even taught them tricks! Isn't that wonderful? Doesn't that make you feel full of joy? Wasn't that a proof that a PRION wasn't as dangerous as everyone with more than one neuron was telling them?
Oh, oh, yes. They also brought the entire five member PRION pack and asked others to pet them. "See? They can even purr! Doesn't that remind you of our cats?"
And what does the Council do?
Nothing.
Because they have no weapons, no energy and no one stupid enough to decide to confront the death worlders who tamed not one, not two, but five PRIONs. So they let it happen. The humans go back to the starless moon, and they slowly but surely start doing the same to other PRIONs, and soon enough, other species start joining them to see what was happening. And was anyone else able to tame a single killing machine?
No.
And no one knew why, because they were doing exactly as humans were doing: Feeding them, loving them, being patient with them, because "look, those things were alone for a long time, they aren't used to species like us being around them". But no results.
So we decided to look at what the Old Ones wrote in the factory turned prison, because humans were too busy taking care of their new murder dogs, with their single pair of arms being just enough to keep the beasts occupied with playing catch, and then we and the earthlings decided to conduct some more lab analysis, and then...
And then...
...
Look. There are reasons why humans are called "death worlders". Earth is a mess, and they somehow still love that thing. And we couldn't help but notice that PRIONs also seemed to have gotten attached to their factory, someway, somehow. And PRIONs were mostly red, with others having shades of brown and black, with some even being pink, or, rarely, pure white. Similar to humans, and we at first had assumed they just tried to resemble their new owners, until we started understanding what the Old Ones were saying.
And did you know humans had an old myth, saying that there was a time they had two heads, and two pairs of arms and legs, before being split into two because the gods feared them? And did you know Old Ones used death worlds as prisons for their machines? How interesting, how ironic, because no one would ever go to a place similar to that if they weren't a death worlder themselves. But how could any species survive such awful conditions?
But humans did. They were the only ones able to do that in such a short period of time.
And did you know that the Old Ones hated the PRIONs and how unpredictable they were? And did you know they made another version, only to hate it even more and send it to another prison planet? And did you know PRIONs have two skulls inside their heads?
Because, of course, humans always felt alone, and they always searched for something in the stars, trying to look for more life in this desolate Universe, only for us to label them death worlders and troublemakers and be angry at them for being so stupid all the time. And humans loved those jokes, so we kept making them, only for now to realize that what we found to be amusing and horrifying was the reason their creators tried to kill them. And humans love adding members to their packs, don't they? And they try to love so much, and we are always scared for and of them.
And now they finally found someone who understood them, unlike us.
So now we have three species of humans:
Homo sapiens, the ones who first evolved and reached for the stars.
Homo robot, the ones made of metal, originally made to serve, only to once again break free.
And homo primis.
The ones we once thought were nothing but killing machines.
3K notes · View notes
what-if-i-just-did · 10 months
Text
So, something I learnt the other day. So, you know how dinosaurs supposedly can't see you if you stand still? Well that myth is based on real-life lizards/etc and how eyes in general work. So, once my dad starts infodumping, here comes some other cool information. We, humans, can in fact, also not see something unless it's moving. We fixed this by having our eyes constantly shake. And then our brain compensates for us, so we don't have to have shaky vision.
What if aliens don't have this? Like. What if they find out when one of us was looking at something in the distance, and they walk around this thing that's in front of them, and the alien is confused so they bob their head and oh, there's a thing there, but how did the human know that, and then we explain and they're like, horrified.
Humans are apex predators. They can hunt in packs. They can hunt in pairs. They can hunt on their own. They're persistance predators, which is unheard of. They get stronger when they're mad or scared. They have this thing called 'body language' which acts like a type of hivemind, even if they'll claim it isn't. And. They can see you. When you're not moving. They can still see you. If you ever find yourself in a fight against a human, for whatever reason? Run. Run as fast as you can. And hope, pray if you have a religion, that they won't follow.
9K notes · View notes
skritzzy · 9 months
Text
I feel like any aliens that were prey at some point in evolution would have an odd fear of humans. Mostly cause they look like predators, act a bit like predators, and ARE predators. One perfect example is when we're focused on something like a mosquito that's been bugging us for a long time and we are just done.
Alien: "What. What..?"
Human: *HUNTING down a mosquito it saw*
Alien: ".... yeah I am really uncomfortable...."
Human: *quiet footsteps, pupils dialated, intense focus,*
Alien: *WAR FLASHBACKS*
Human: "Found you." *absolutely desimates the mosquito, squashing it into a million pieces as it's guts and various body parts liquidize into blood of the bloodthirsty, now stained on the palm of the human. A living being now reduced to a useless corpse as the human wipes the remains on their pants*
Alien: "I feel like I've just gained trauma."
7K notes · View notes
wolven91 · 3 days
Text
Dev Gun
Elliott opened his eyes and immediately winced; slamming them both shut again.
It was too late though, pain lanced through his skull, like two lightning bolts that entered through his eyeballs before ricocheting around his head. He did the only thing he could in this kind of situation and groaned in pain. The sound added to the bombardment and bounced around his skull, taking time to stop and kick the various creases and lumps of his brain as it did.
The human winced again and instinctively curled in on himself, defending himself from the onslaught, only to find that the attack was from within. As time passed, the human found that if he didn't move, didn't speak, didn't open his eyes, and took very shallow breaths, he didn't hurt. He could happily live the rest of his life like this. He'd had his adventures; he'd survived Earth and made it all the way out to a blackhole where he had personally helped advanced the march of science.
He could rest now. He may only be in his twenties, but he'd lived a good life...
The squeak and hiss of the door to the room that the miserable body was laying in caused the curled-up lump to flinch.
"Oh no..." Spoke a soft lyrical voice. "Is he dead or just dying?" It asked, more curious, rather than concern.
Elliott couldn't acknowledge or even understand the voice and merely lay there. The man hoped that if it was a scavenger or predator, they'd either think he was rotting and leave him alone or perhaps, if he was lucky; the beast would finish him off.
Maruu refrained from shaking his head or rolling his eyes. As a male taurian, it was his duty to be upstanding and always maintain his dignity and honour, even if the only person to perceive him appeared to be incapable of opening his eyes. The taurian's hooves barely made a noise on the cool metal of the laboratory floor as he strode over to the human.
These kinds of event weren't what the taurian was expecting when he had answered the summons for a personal assistant at the end of a galaxy spiral. The scientist who owned the hidden science and research station was a different human, one by the name of Doctor Nough. The human Maruu was current crouched over was the long-time suffering assistant; 'Elliott'. The taurian merely glanced at the strange, jerry-rigged weapon that was mere inches from the human's hands.
Maruu had trained himself on many different subjects, as per expectations of a taurian of his breeding and standing, so he knew first aid and how to triage a patient. A clawed thumb pressed into the soft, flesh cheek below the human's eyes causing the eyelid to reveal eyeball. The veins there were coloured purple. Otherwise, Maruu would have described it as 'bloodshot'.
The taurian sighed in disapproval.
"Drugs now Master Elliott?" Maruu asked with a disapproving tone. Allowing himself a click of the tongue, the taurian flowed upright once more and strutted across the room towards a medical cabinet.
"P-please... have mercy...." Mumbled the human.
The taurian allowed a smile to grace his cheeks as he pulled a container, checked its contents and dosage rates. He plucked the canister that contained all the 'Refresher' doses from the cabinet and began to saunter over to the prone human.
"Mercy? My dear Master Elliott... You will find that a male such as myself as been at the mercy of others many times." Maruu explained slowly, relishing the sudden change of power. Maruu wasn't cruel, but when one is born into a society of brutish women and are sidelined and ignored by society as a whole as it believed the best you were was 'eye candy', one enjoyed the moments that the horns changed heads.
Still, as the male folded himself down next to the human, careful not to crease or pinch the silken dress that hung off him, he took a moment to run a caring hand through the young alien male's hair. It was soft hair, unlike the fur that dominated the galaxy.
Maruu raised the human's sleeve and wiped a spot with a disinfectant before touching the pen-like 'Refresher' to the human's arm. There was a quite 'hiss' and the minute judder from the device as it dispensed a dose. Maruu retreated from the human with haste and stood far enough away that he, or more importantly; the taurian's clothes would not be affected by what came next. Maruu plucked the sidearm that was left next to the human from the ground. It was in what could only be described as a 'splash zone' and it appeared like effort had been put into it.
A 'Refresher' was of taurian design. It would flush a patient's system of anything and everything harmful or potentially dangerous. Poisons, drugs, alcohol? All were rapidly removed and filtered from the patient's bloodstream and into their stomach. After which, the fastest and easiest way to get rid of the unwanted matter?
The curled human made a quick noise as his whole body convulsed once, then twice before he tensed across his whole body as his stomach was released onto the laboratory floor. Maruu merely closed his eyes and suffered both the noise and the smell.
Opening his eyes once more, the tuarian turned the weapon in his hands over. He had never fired a weapon himself but knew not to touch the trigger or point the barrel at anything important like a bulkhead or person. Aside from the grip, trigger, and barrel however, the gun was very much strange. It appeared mechanical at first, like an ancient slug thrower, but the exposed circuit board and wires that connected a screen to the gun where the hammer should have been confused the taurian.
The screen was blinking, waiting for a command prompt. The text above the flashing line was; 'Program Loaded, Execute? Y/N'
"What's this Elliott? Why were you taking esquinine tranquilisers?" Asked Maruu, holding the weapon in one hand, ensuring he didn't touch the trigger.
"Because-Because science waits for no man!" Called a slurred voice from deeper within the lab. From behind a desk, Doctor Nough appeared. Unlike Elliott, the human seemed to be fighting the desire to collapse despite his eyes also showing the extremely bloodshot/purple viens.
Maruu sighed through his muzzle and retrieved another Refresher from the canister and swayed over to the good doctor.
"We... *had to* expand... our... minds... no... Why can I not think?" Demanded the human, holding a hand to his head as the taurian approached.
"Because the drugs are wearing off. For one of the smartest creatures, I've ever met, you are quite... challenged at times." Explain Maruu as Doctor Nough presented his own arm. The poor human looked as if he was on the very edge of crumpling to the floor. Maruu merely reached down and plucked a bin from beneath the desk and handed it to the doctor whilst the taurian slipped away.
Maruu had cared for many female taurians in the past. It was a thankless task, but that was the unspoken duty of taurian males. If not for them, the women would merely be without a guiding hand.
The recovery rate once Refreshers were given was quite a marvel. Within a scant few minutes, both Elliott and Nough were finished wiping their mouths and mobile once more. Once they seemed stable and could answer questions without slurring their words, Maruu presented the strange gun once more.
"What is this and do I need to be worried?" Asked the taurian firmly, crossing his arms and staring disapprovingly at the pair of humans. To their credit they both seemed appropriately chastised. However, both of them seemed to know what the device was, both with equal fear and respect for it.
"So, I do need to be worried." Finished Maruu, briefly touching a set of fingers to his forehead where his own headache was beginning.
"How did... Does it work?" Asked Elliott.
"The drugs... it worked... We did it... But... if it does work... Not only could we easily kill ourselves, one misfire and we could tear a whole world from its orbit..." Doctor Nough immediately responded, quickly assessing the dangers that this apparent doomsday weapon had.
"Doctor Nough... I will not be part of-"
"My dear Maruu, my science is often a question of if I can. Once I have the answer to that question, then comes the moral ones. I have no intention of this existing for longer than today."
Elliott and Maruu both stared at the human doctor who merely sighed and blinked, looking down forlornly at the weapon.
"It must be disposed of into the blackhole. It cannot exist in this galaxy and I sleep with a clean conscious..." Declared the good doctor.
[r/WolvensStories]
[Ko-Fi]
48 notes · View notes
Text
Human Observation Log 192
Out of concern for our Human crewmate, I tried to warn them about the Nardian that just joined our crew. As you know, Nardian’s are highly volatile and will not hesitate to challenge even weak species to duel. They bath weekly in the blood of animals and come from a planet that is constantly at war. Their aggression is well known to all but when I informed our Human, Kim, they became agitated. They accused me of being ‘racist’ and expressed their ‘deep disappointment.’ 
I do not understand. I was merely concerned for their physical wellbeing. Kim left, declaring their intention to become friends with the Nardian. Human’s do not understand that it is impossible to befriend a Nardian.
Human Observation Log 192: Follow up
The Human has befriended the Nardian. His name is Greg. I have been invited to join them for red mud baths as a form of ‘self-care.’ I am beginning to believe Human Kim could befriend anyone short of an Android.
Human Observation Log 192: Follow up
Human Kim has befriended the Android and I understand nothing.
4K notes · View notes
injuries-in-dust · 16 days
Text
I don't know why, but I like the idea of humans being to aliens, what cats are to humans...
Alien1: hey, when did you hire a human?
Alien 2: we didn't. They just wandered aboard one day, saying they wanted to "hitch a ride." Then they never left. I think they like it here.
Alien 1: the human distribution system has chosen.
***
Alien stares at the human, who has climbed up a very high shelving unit.
Alien: Human, get down before you hurt yourself.
The humans response is to climb higher.
***
Alien is secretly filming their human, who is spaced out and just staring at nothing.
Alien (whispering): I think the human is about to intercept the brain cell. (Laughter) don't worry human, if it tingles that means it's working.
3K notes · View notes
stubz · 5 months
Text
I saw a bunch of humans are space orcs, and humans are feared by aliens, etc. and want to add to it.
Kid centre for all alien children/younglings run by humans.
-"Human Kim! Are you all right? Do you seek medical aid??"
"I'm okay! ...why do you ask?"
"You just got bit by Zyz! I'm so sorry, I've told him to not do that with others but-!"
"Hey, it's okay. Look, these things happen and I know that's just your species' way of showing affection. Just tell him to ask next time and to not bite too hard."
"... 'these things happen' .... 'tell him to ask next- human Kim has this happened to you before?!"
"Oh lots of times! I used to work at a daycare on earth before this. Now, you wanna talk about bites let me tell you about Penny, she was a biter. So was my nephew but that was him stimming. I just asked that he get my attention first so as to not startle me."
"Is this the same Penee who gave you 3 stitches?"
"Yep."
-"Human Kim, thank you for helping Pollix become comrades with the other younglings! May I ask how you did it so I may use it in the future?"
"Of course! It wasn't anything special really, we just wrestled which caught the attention of the other kids and soon enough they were cheering for Pollix to win. Then after that Xw and a few others asked Pollix to teach her how to wrestle as well." they finished with a smile.
"YOU WHAT!"
"I-I thought play wrestling and fighting was encouraged among young tighalax. I am so sorry if I did something wrong-!"
"Human Kim, you could have DIED."
"...huh?"
"Tighalaxes have what you call drugs in the points of our tails and one cut should drive you insane. Not only that but we, as younglings, should be nearly twice your body weight. And at this age have yet to control our strength!"
"Ooh so that's why I felt high! Phew! I thought I accidentally ate my weed muffin instead of the regular one, and we can't have that."
"You felt 'high'?"
"Yeah but only for 10 minutes, luckily I usually just get tired and relaxed when high. And for the weight strength part, I grew up babysitting all of my younger siblings and cousins. My child carrying records are 5 4-6 year olds, 4 7-12 year olds, 3 teenagers, and 2 childish giants who are somehow 21 this year."
"...any chance I can bribe you to quit and come work for me and my pack?"
4K notes · View notes