Concept: combine the “you don’t know you live on a death world until you leave it” trope with the whole Cthulhu-in-space genre of weird fiction, except in reverse: humanity’s Special Thing™ is that humans (and, by extension, all terrestrial life-forms) are weirdly resistant to reality-bending bullshit, which is what lets us survive and build a relatively functional civilisation in spite of hailing from a world that plays host to multiple Other Gods – which is, of course, otherwise unheard of; having even one of those squamous bastards in the neighbourhood is generally enough to ruin a whole star system’s day.

Non-human vessels can’t approach within a dozen light years of Sol without their crews being driven mad by the corrosive psychic resonance emanating from Earth’s deepest oceans, and we’re wandering around living our lives and not noticing. Aliens can never travel on human ships because our FTL drives kind of maybe tunnel through Hell, a process that horribly warps non-terrestrial life, and we just think it looks pretty when the n-dimensional hellfire coruscates across the viewports.

This sort of thing kept humanity uncontacted for a long time, until the aliens’ observers eventually figured out that we weren’t a bunch of weirdly normal-looking elder thralls, we just straight up weren’t aware there was a problem. It’s only then that they arranged first contact – remotely, of course – to basically ask “dude, what the fuck?”

(Humans are reasonably well-integrated into the galactic community these days, though most worlds enforce strict screening and quarantine procedures before allowing a Terran traveller planetside; it’s just like a human to have a class 7 epistemivore hitchhiking in their brain, and when informed, go “you know, I have been getting these headaches lately”.)

Once the humans got settled in, it was only natural that they’d be in high demand for dealing with reality bender infestations on other worlds, a profession that most aliens regard as horrifyingly dangerous, but which humans tend to approach as a sort of glorified animal control. Your capital city’s got a case of nightgaunts? A team of humans’ll be more than happy to go in and poke them with laser-sticks until they leave – for a fee, of course.

(In one famous incident, a kilometre-high pillar of paradimensional flesh manifested on Arcturus IV and began singing the Song of Endings, causing every living creature across half a continent to bleed from their auditory receptors. Upon arrival, the human first responders were observed to complain that they’d heard that one before, and soon set off in high spirits. The tower later caught fire and fell over; nobody’s entirely sure what the humans did, but they announced that their work was done and quickly departed; the ensuing biohazard cleanup, they said, was someone else’s department!)

You know what’s an absolute gold mine for the “Humans Are Space Orcs” fandom?

Animorphs.

About 4 books in, they befriend an alien nicknamed “Ax,” and here are some of his golden moments:

1. He repeatedly refers to the groups designated leader as “Prince,” despite being told not to

2. “Ax, you could either be a really pretty guy, or a kind of unattractive girl.” “I am an Andalite.”

3. In his normal form, he has no mouth. So whenever he goes into human morph, he ends up repeating a lot of sounds because he thinks it’s fun.

4. Example: “So far. So far. Farrrrr. Faaaaar....So. Ssssso far so so so good.”

5. The first time they took him to the mall, he wandered off and ordered a coffee from a Starbucks just because he saw other people doing it. When he got his coffee, he didn’t realize that he had to drink from the hole in the lid and spilled it on himself. When he finally got it right, he was marveling at the incredible coffee-cup-lid technology (“So simple! Imple. And yet so effective!”)

6. When told to throw the coffee cup away, he literally chucked it at a cashier.

7. When he wandered off again, he ran to the food court and started snatching up leftover food from the tables and eating it because he became so obsessed with the newly obtained sense of taste. This ended up with him being chased down and tackled by mall security. He then decided it was a brilliant idea to de-morph RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MALL, terrifying dozens of people.

8. From his diary: “The first thing an Andalite may notice about humans is that they walk around only on two legs. It is very strange to see so many creatures balancing that way. But, despite this, they seldom fall over.”

9. “I was never exactly a great student, but I could just imagine how my fellow Andalites would ask when they finally rescued me. They’d ask, ‘So, Aximilli, what did you learn about Earth?’ And I’d have to say ‘Um, well, not much.’”

10. “It is an amazing sensation, making sounds with your mouth. Actual words are formed by vibrating your throat and positioning your tongue. But some sounds are better than others. ‘Ing’ is a wonderful sound to make.”

11. One time, they take him to see an earth movie. A Star Trek movie, to be specific. This sparked this chain of events:

12. Diary entry: “There are many dangers for an Andalite in a human morph. For one thing, there is the constant danger that you will fall off your two legs. The slightest push and you can topple over. But worse by far is the danger of taste. Taste is the sense that can drive an Andalite mad! Especially if it involves cinnamon buns or chocolate.”

13. An exchange between him and a friend: “‘No one wants to ask you because they think maybe it’s rude. But everyone wants to know how you eat with no mouth.’ ‘How I eat?’ I repeated, puzzled. ‘Well, I have hooves, don’t I?’ ‘Ooookay,’ Tobias said. ‘I’ll mind my own business.’”

14. “‘In school, during Xenobiology, we had a section on humans,’ I told Tobias. ‘It mostly involved human television programs. News shows. Entertainment. Music.’ ‘Music? You mean like MTV? You were watching music videos on the Andalite homeworld?’”

15. Diary entry: “I have morphed some Andalite animals. And I have morphed many strange Earth animals. But the animal I morphed the most is the human animal. They are weak, slow, half-blind, and unstable, but no Andalite should laugh at them. Humans rule their planet. And as the human Rachel once said, Earth is a tough neighborhood.”

16: Diary entry: “A human has only two eyes. Both are in the front of the face. It is the same with most Earth species. These human eyes are very similar to our own main eyes. But humans seem fascinated by my stalk eyes. One of the humans, Marco, has said they ‘creep him out big time.’ I believe this is a compliment.”

17: There was also the time when they decided to take Ax to school, disguised as Jake’s cousin “Phillip” from “out of state.” He then gets super freaked out by the sound of the school bell.

18. “Clothing is not a uniquely human idea, but of course Andalites do not indulge in it. However, when I am in human morph I must wear clothing. All of my human friends, even Tobias, agree on this. They agree very strongly on this one point.”

19. One time he wandered over to a character’s father’s computer. He assumed that what was on it was a game in which you needed to correct errors. It was actually computer code, and he ended up writing software that was CENTURIES ahead of human technology by accident.

20. Diary Entry: “Books are an amazing human invention. They allow instant access to information simply by turning pieces of paper. They are much faster to use than computers. They do many things backward.”

Alien: You’re telling me that in times of great distress humans have been known to suddenly gain the strength necessary to lift objects more than a dozen times their own weight?!

Human: Yeah, it’s called “hysterical strength” and it usually happens in life-or-death situations, like when someone gets stuck under a car or something and someone lifts the car to get them out. We can’t really test it though, ‘cause it only happens spontaneously.

Alien: Humans have the ability to tap into untold strength and power and you don’t even know how you do it?

Human: Pretty much, yeah. We think it has something to do with temporary analgesia, so we just don’t feel the pain we should when we pick up a 3000-pound car.

Alien: YOUR PAIN RESPONSE JUST SHUTS OFF?

Human: Yeah, it’s like an adrenaline thing? Do you not have that?

Alien: Fuck you and your entire species of tiny juggernauts.

Did this post just use a dialogue format to trick me into learning science

Had to check this out on wikipedia at least and boy was that a ride

SCIENCE!

Just so you guys know. Hysterical strength is basically your body not holding back and going %100 though there is a great danger of you hurting yourself or breaking something since your ignoring pain and going %100. There was a case where a kid deadlifted a car to save a sibling but,cracked 8 of his teeth during it because he was clenching his jaw so hard. So whilst you can lift a car or fight off polar bears. Your probably going to break something. Because most of the time when we are “giving our all” we are only giving a fraction of what we could give and this is because if we truly give our all we can seriously injure ourselves.

This is literally an explanation of Deku and his abilities with One For All.

Humans naturally hold back because our muscles have enough strength to rip themselves apart

STOP GIVING THE ALIENS REASONS NOT TO VISIT.

@celestial-naiad the whole one million percent smash was actually hysterical strength, according to horikoshi.

on an unrelated note, did you know that if all the muscles in your back clenched at once your spine would shatter? have fun!!

Thats a horrifying and empowering thought at the same time.

Also: when you are sufficiently electrocuted and “thrown back” what is actually happening is your muscles contracting so hard and fast you essentially fling yourself away from the dangerous thing.

“This bitch deadly! YEET!”

Humans are weird “Tears for Everything”

Hey all. Didn’t think I would get this sort of response, but since I have. I have decided to do at least one of these “Humans are Weird or Humans are Space Orcs” every day. If you have any ideas you’d like to see me write, I’d be thankful for suggestions. 

Alien: *walks in to mess hall sees human sitting at a table crying*

Alien “Human, what is wrong. Why is your face leaking.”

*human looks up wiping eyes* 

Human: *Sorry, I’m just really upset. This is what happens when humans are upset, we cry….. There was a bombing back home, none of my family is answering.”

Alien: *walks back in later, human still crying*

Alien: “Oh no, human, are you ok? What is wrong?”

*human looks up wipes eyes again*

Human: “Oh sorry.” grins “my family just called back and they’re ok.”

Alien: *in confusion* “Why are you upset about that?”

Human: “Oh no, you misunderstand. Humans also cry when we’re happy or relieved 

Alien *rolls eyes but doesn’t question. Humans are weird after all 

Alien *returns later to see the humans in s big circle, all of them are crying so hard they are almost bent double. They have to be upset.*

Alien: “What’s wrong now?”

human: *regains breath and wipes tears from eyes, “Nothing, nothing, Jim just told a really funny joke. Laughed so hard I cried.”

Alien: *annoyed now. Walks away shaking his head*

Alien: *walks in to lab and is nearly hit by a metal trey flying towards the wall*

human: *screams in anger tears rolling down their face*

Alien: *tentatively peeks out from behind shelf* “are you alright, human?

Human: “NO I’M NOT ALRIGHT. I’M PISSED OFF!” *turns away wiping eyes*

Alien: *hurried from the room to scared to be annoyed*

human: *sneezes*

Alien: *turns around to find human’s face leaking again, exasperated* “What NOW? Why can you possibly be upset, happy, or angry NOW?”

Human: *looking confused* “I’m not any of those, my allergies are just really bad right now.”

Alien: *Sputtering in exasperation*

*out on a mission, the planet is freezing cold*

Alien: *looks at human*

Human *dribbling from the eyes and nose. this Cannot be laughter or allergies, they have to be upset*

Alien: “What’s wrong human?”

Human: *wipes nose* “Nothing, just cold.”

Alien: “You’re ****ing kidding me.”

*Human yawns. wipes eyes*

Alien “What now! What now. How can you possibly be doing this now. Are you hungry, horny or frustrated WHAT! WHAT IS THIS RIDDLE!”

*human: holds up hands wiping eyes* “nothing just tired is all”

Alien *screams in frustration*

Alien: *glares at human as human wipes their eyes*

Human: *Sees the look* “Sorry, eyes are burning. don’t know why”

Alien: *stands up* “Don’t know why. Don’t know why. Of course you don’t know why” *storms out. Opens human behavior log. scribbles our years of dedicated note taking. Writes In big bold letters*

WE KNOW NOTHING

Idea from @readerreaper

So like, I’ve had a few surgeries and operations. One of them, I was awake for; it was an endoscopy. Basically, they shove a tube down your throat into your stomach to see what’s happening in there. I was drugged off my tea, but I still remember seeing what the inside of my belly looked like and let me tell you, it was surreal. There was an ultrasound as well (both to diagnose the same thing). Again seeing the inside of your own body, phwoar.

“Wait, hold on. You can see inside your bodies?”

“Well, no not on our own. But like, if something goes wrong on the inside, there’s scanners and stuff, and sometimes they put like a camera on a tube down you.”

The alien’s face paled from a deep blue to a rather sickly purple.

“They… what?”

“It’s not so bad! They numb you and put you to sleep and stuff so you don’t feel it-“

“Put you to sleep?! Isn’t that a term for excecutuon?!”

“Fuck, no! Like, with drugs and stuff for a few hours, sometimes they don’t though, and you stay awake and like, okay I had a stomach ulcer, and they put a camera in my stomach-”

“Um… an ulcer?” The alien wasn’t sure they wanted to know.

“Oh, it’s like when the acid in your stomach wears away at the mucus and it creates a hole in the lining of- wait, where are you going?”

Fainting was supposed to be a human concept, but this was too much to bear. The Alien’s race tended to just ‘grin and bear it’ as the humans said. But to know acid burning you from the inside out… and wanting to see it? It was enough to make anyone feel weak.

Consider: Aliens find humans goddamn adorable.

—

“Look at them! They dance with others of their species they’ve never met before just for their shared love of certain sound patterns! That is so sweet!”

—

“The humans have told me that this process is called ‘hugging’, and it involves simply holding each other to release endorphins. Isn’t that precious? Look how happy they are!”

—

“Humans have a physical response called ‘laughter’ to indicate high positive emotions and humor. It seems to be infectious, as one laughing human can easily cause laughter and endorphin responses in other humans!”

—

“They pack bond so easily, even with inanimate objects. A human companion of mine recently purchased a small ‘cactus’ plant simply because it was not shaped as perfectly as the rest and she wished to give it a home. She has named it Bartholomew.”

“Yes, my own human friend has displayed this tendency as well. When I questioned her, she expressed that she has pack-bonded with me. I felt I must perform a ‘hug’ in order to express how adorable she is.”

—

“My human companion has adopted another, smaller Earth predator into his home. I frequently find him carrying it around or napping with it simply to share companionship and feel the vibrations the creature produces. He very often expresses how adorable and precious the feline is, though he does not seem to realize that he is similarly so.”

—

“The humans record themselves playing pretend and telling stories so other humans can watch them. I have samples of these ‘movies’ to share with the rest of the observation party. For research purposes.”

Hey all you Humans are Weird writers- why haven’t any of you written about how an entire generation is still defensive over Pluto’s loss of planetary status because we all collectively packbonded with a planet.

An interesting sci-fi short story from 4chan.

[Imgur]

That is some fine writing.

The Imgur link is broken so:

[Series of posts on 09/16/11]

About twelve years ago, a man died in high orbit over Tau Ceti V.

His name was Drake McDougal, and aside from a few snapshots and vague anecdotes from his drinking buddies, that’s probably all we’ll ever know about him. Another colony-born man with little records and little documentation, working whatever asteroid field the Dracs deigned to allow them. Every now and then a Drac gunship would strut on through the system, Pax Draconia and all that. But that was it.

One fine day, one of those gunships had a misjump. A bad one. It arrived only ninety clicks above atmo, with all its impellers blown out by the gravatic feedback of Tau Ceti V’s gravity well. The Dracs scraped enough power together for a good system-wide broadbeam and were already beginning the Death Chant when they hit atmo.

People laughed at the recording of sixty Dracs going from mysterious chanting to “’what-the-fuck’ing” for years after they forgot the name Drake McDougal. The deafening “CLANG” and split second of stunned silence afterwards never failed to entertain. Drake had performed a hasty re-entry seconds after the gunship and partially slagged his heatshield diving after it. Experts later calculated he suffered 11Gs when he leaned on the retro to match velocities with the Dracs long enough to engage the mag-grapples on his little mining tug.

Even the massively overpowered drive of a tug has its limits, and Drake’s little ship hit hers about one and a half minutes later. Pushed too far, the tug’s fusion plant lost containment just as he finished slingshotting the gunship into low orbit. (It was unharmed, of course; the Drac opinion of fusion power best translated as “quaint,” kind of how we view butter churns.)

It was on the local news within hours, on newsnets across human space within days. It was discussed, memorialized, marveled upon, chewed over by daytime talk-show hosts, and I think somebody even bought a plaque or some shit like that. Then there was a freighter accident, and a mass-shooting on Orbital 5, and of course, the first Vandal attacks in the periphery.

The galaxy moved on.

Twelve years is a long time, especially during war, so twelve years later, as the Vandal’s main fleet was jumping in near Jupiter and we were strapping into the crash couches of what wee enthusiastically called “warships,” I guaran-fucking-tee you not one man in the entire Defense Force could remember who Drake McDougal was.

Well, the Dracs sure as hell did.

Dracs do not fuck around. Dozens of two-kilometer long Drac supercaps jumped in barely 90K klicks away, and then we just stood around staring at our displays like the slack-jawed apes we were as we watched what a real can of galactic whoop-ass looked like. You could actually see the atmosphere of Jupiter roil occasionally when a Vandal ship happened to cross between it and the Drac fleet. There’s still lightning storms on Jupiter now, something about residual heavy ions and massive static charges or something.

Fifty-eight hours later, with every Vandal ship reduced to slagged debris and nine wounded Drac ships spinning about as they vented atmosphere, they started with the broad-band chanting again. And then the communiqué that confused the hell out of us all.

“Do you hold out debt fulfilled?”

After the sixth or seventh comms officer told them “we don’t know what the hell you’re talking about” as politely as possible, the Drac fleet commander got on the horn and asked to speak to a human Admiral in roughly the same tone as a telemarketer telling a kid to give the phone to Daddy. When the Admiral didn’t know either, the Drac went silent for a minute, and when he came back on his translator was using much smaller words, and talking slower.

“Is our blood debt to Drake McDougal’s clan now satisfied?”

The Admiral said “Who?”

What the Drac commander said next would’ve caused a major diplomatic incident had he remembered to revert to the more complex translation protocols. He thought the Admiral must be an idiot, a coward, or both. Eventually, the diplomats were called out, and we were asked why the human race has largely forgotten the sacrifice of Drake McDougal.

Humans, we explained, sacrifice themselves all the time.

We trotted out every news clip from the space-wide Nets from the last twelve years. Some freighter cook that fell on a grenade during a pirate raid on Outreach. A ship engineer who locked himself into the reactor room and kept containment until the crew evacuated. Firefighter who died shielding a child from falling debris with his body, during an earthquake. Stuff like that.

That Dracs were utterly stunned. Their diplomats wandered out of the conference room in a daze. We’d just told them that the rarest, most selfless and honorable of acts - acts that incurred generations-long blood-debts and moved entire fleets - was so routine for our species that they were bumped off the news by the latest celebrity scandal.

Everything changed for humanity after that. And it was all thanks to a single tug pilot who taught the galaxy what truly defines Man.

This makes me cry

It had been so many cycles since the Drac incident, and even more since the Drake McDougal event, and the the galaxy had sort of come to the conclusion that humans were, well, human about things, and that they regarded their lives in completely incomprehensible ways.

Yet for all of the witnessed sacrifices, few warriors had ever been taught to recognise the most terrifying of human deeds. In a forgettable corner of the galaxy, in an unremarked planet with a previously less than recorded history, a party of six human security escorts bringing their rescued survivors to a hive ship became a party of five, 

A lone human, holding one of their handheld ‘melee’ weapons wordlessly tilted their head to their commander, and stopped, standing in plain sight in the middle of a field. 

Waiting.

When asked, the lower ranked humans simply said “She knows what’s she’s doing”.  The human captain’s inexplicable statement “She’s buying us some time” made it as if their companion had stepped into some form of marketplace. 

Katherine of Rescue Group’s fate was never confirmed, but no pursuit came that night. On the next dawn, when the hive ship was able to leave, the humans insisted we departed immediately, and did not go back for their companion.

We do not know for sure what became of Katherine of Rescue Group. All we know is that when pressed, the human captain explained to our own that the one who stayed had communicated an ancient human tradition, the rite of self sacrifice.  In words, the captain explained, the look and the nod would mean “Go on. I’ll hold them off.  It was not, as we thought, that this one warrior had sought victory over many enemies, but that they had calculated a trade off of the minutes or hours it could take to defeat a human, against the time needed by their companions.

Humans, as humans say, do not go gentle into that good night.  

Worse, they do not go gentle into bad nights, worse days, or terrifying sunsets. Dawn seems to fill them with potency and rage, as if to call upon the solar gods and tell the deities to come down here and say that to their human faces. We do not know how long she bought us, but we, the hive now called K’thrn, understand what it means to have someone expend their existence for the survival of others.

We find it terrifying.

I love this one. Reblogging for something new. 

broke: supernatural creatures comparing humans to worms, ants or any other insect creatures in a hateful tone

woke: supernatural creatures in awe of the shit humans do/put up with given their limited abilities

“wh. what do you mean your limbs dont regenerate. so if you lose one, you just gotta…deal with it?”

“yeah?”

bespoke: humans making up stupid limitations just to fuck with the supernatural beings

Steve, an absolute trashbag who loves to fuck with ppl in general: “Yeah so we as humans aren’t able to injest water during a full moon because of how potent the lunar pull on it is.”

Yveseriel, a Seraphim with 12 eyes and 7 pairs of wings:

[ID: A screencap from It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia of the “that doesn’t sound right” meme, edited so Mac is saying “That doesn’t sound right, but I don’t know enough about humans to dispute it.” End ID]

Fic idea I was struck with the other day and keep thinking about: a Vulcan adopts a cat.

Still thinking about this, even though I’m not writing the fic!

This Vulcan, I’m calling her T’Pen, goes to a shelter and gets a cat, and the shelter employees are like, a bit weirded out? But obviously they’re going to give her a cat, I mean, she’s a Vulcan, she’s Super Responsible, she takes all the pamphlets and listens attentively to all the advice the shelter employees give her, even though it is obvious she researched a lot on her own.

Then T’Pen asks the shelter folks what she should name the cat and runs into That Thing Humans Do Where They Confound a Vulcan With Their Weird Ways

Shelter Employee 1: oh, you can name a cat anything! That’s what’s great! People names, common nouns, whole phrases.

Shelter Employee 2: yeah, nothing sounds weird on a cat. Everything from Chad to Cupboard is fair game.

SE 1: yeah, I mean, you can’t call a dog Chad, that would be weird

SE 2: I wouldn’t fuckin’ trust anyone who named their dog Chad

SE 1: oh word

T’Pen:….

T’Pen: ….fascinating.

Later, in the interest of furthering her anthropological study of Earth, T’Pen has a houseparty and she invites her coworkers, many of whom are human, but others which are aliens, and are fascinated by T’Pen’s cat

Vulcan Co-worker: T’Pen, what have you named this small Earth feline?

T’Pen: I have named him Marmalade.

Vucan co-worker: Is that not the name of a type of Terran fruit preserve? I do not understand the logic behind this choice.

T’Pen: the logic is self-evident to a human.

Human Co-worker: T’Pen, omg, you have a cat! What’s his name?

T’Pen: thank you for your inquiry. His name is Marmalade

Human Co-worker: oooh! yeah, that makes sense, because he’s orange and sweet! lmao, great name

Vulcan Co-worker: …

Vulcan Co-worker: ….fascinating

Human: So, how’s Marmalade?

T’Pen: He has the peculiar habit of walking on my workstation.

Human: Aggravating, isn’t it?

T’Pen: We Vulcans do not feel human emotions. However, I would prefer it if Marmalade stayed off my workstation, particularly when I am working.

Human: Get a box.

T’Pen: Murdering Marmalade seems an overreaction.

Human: No, you need a box with interior dimensions approximately the same as Marmalade’s body, and set it on the floor next to your workstation. Marmalade will sit in the box.

T’Pen: Why do you believe that this will work for Marmalade?

Human: We don’t know. It’s just something cats do. If he fits, he sits.

T’Pen: … Fascinating.

Vulcan Commander: T’Pen, you are posting videos of your cat. Explain.

T’pen: My colleagues are amused and entertained by Marmalade’s interactions with his environment. I am amused and entertained by their reactions as reflected in the comments.

Vulcan Commander (reading): “U haz done me a startle”?

T’Pen: Some of them like to verbalize what they believe are Marmalade’s thought processes. He is a cat, so they imagine that he does not grasp human spelling and grammar.

Vulcan Commander: … Fascinating. As you were. (signs off)

T’Pen (returning to her meal): Now I can haz lunch.

Fic idea I was struck with the other day and keep thinking about: a Vulcan adopts a cat.

Still thinking about this, even though I’m not writing the fic!

This Vulcan, I’m calling her T’Pen, goes to a shelter and gets a cat, and the shelter employees are like, a bit weirded out? But obviously they’re going to give her a cat, I mean, she’s a Vulcan, she’s Super Responsible, she takes all the pamphlets and listens attentively to all the advice the shelter employees give her, even though it is obvious she researched a lot on her own.

Then T’Pen asks the shelter folks what she should name the cat and runs into That Thing Humans Do Where They Confound a Vulcan With Their Weird Ways

Shelter Employee 1: oh, you can name a cat anything! That’s what’s great! People names, common nouns, whole phrases.

Shelter Employee 2: yeah, nothing sounds weird on a cat. Everything from Chad to Cupboard is fair game.

SE 1: yeah, I mean, you can’t call a dog Chad, that would be weird

SE 2: I wouldn’t fuckin’ trust anyone who named their dog Chad

SE 1: oh word

T’Pen:….

T’Pen: ….fascinating.

Later, in the interest of furthering her anthropological study of Earth, T’Pen has a houseparty and she invites her coworkers, many of whom are human, but others which are aliens, and are fascinated by T’Pen’s cat

Vulcan Co-worker: T’Pen, what have you named this small Earth feline?

T’Pen: I have named him Marmalade.

Vucan co-worker: Is that not the name of a type of Terran fruit preserve? I do not understand the logic behind this choice.

T’Pen: the logic is self-evident to a human.

Human Co-worker: T’Pen, omg, you have a cat! What’s his name?

T’Pen: thank you for your inquiry. His name is Marmalade

Human Co-worker: oooh! yeah, that makes sense, because he’s orange and sweet! lmao, great name

Vulcan Co-worker: …

Vulcan Co-worker: ….fascinating

@coffeebuddha

When an intergalactic mission reaches a critical point that threatens the life of the crew, when all is hopeless, and no other option is in sight, the captain of the crew must - if the crew includes a “human” - activate the WT protocol.

This measure should only be used in extreme circumstances, as its consequences are, despite impressive effectiveness, destructive and highly unpredictable.

If, however, the crew’s life and wellbeing are in danger, then the captain should turn to the “human” and clearly speak the following words:

“This is it. We will die here. There is no way out of this.”

The “human” will immediately direct their attention to their captain. Their answer should approximately be: “There’s always a way”, or “I’ll find something.”

It is crucial, then, that the captain performs the next sentence with as much condescension as can be mustered. They must look at the “human”, and say:

“What can a weak human like you even do?”

Immediately, distance must be brought between the remaining crew and the “human”. The protocol, if successfully initiated, will begin with a show of the “human’s” teeth in something called a “grin”, and the protocol words:

“Watch this.”

@words-writ-in-starlight

I really want a science fiction story where aliens come to invade earth and effortlessly wipe out humanity, only to be fought off by the wildlife.

They were expecting military resistance. They weren’t counting on bears.

Imagine coming to a hostile alien world and being attacked by a horde of creatures that can weigh up to 3 tons, run at 30 km/h (19 mph), and bite with a force of 8,100 newtons (1,800 lbf).

By the time you realise that they can traverse water, it’s too late. The surviving members of your unit manage to make it back by shedding their excess gear and running for their lives; the slower ones were crushed to death within minutes.

You later describe the creature to one of the humans you captured, wanting to know the name of the monstrosity that will haunt your nightmares for cycles to come.

The human smiles as it speaks a single word, slowly and distinctly, in its barbaric tongue.

“Hippopotamus.”

This is giving me the biggest, creepiest grin I might have ever grinned 

Imagine being the next crew to go down to earth and thinking “it’s fine, we got this. We have the weapons and equipment necessary to deal with bears and *shudders* hippopotamuses. We’ll be fine.”

And at first you are, you’ve learned how to dodge. You’ve learned where their territories are. You know how to defend yourself.

But then one night you are sleeping in your shelter. You’re in a tree covered temperate part of earth. It seems benign. There are been no sightings of the dreaded “hippos” around. Not even any bears. But there is a slight rustle of the undergrowth. You try and ignore it telling yourself it is just the wind.

Then you hear the rustle again. closer this time.

You peer out into the darkness but see nothing amongst the trees.

The rustle again and now you realise you can smell something. It’s musky and slightly foul. It’s the smell of an omen, a warning. But what of? Where is this smell coming from.

You sit up, but it’s too late. The foul smelling creature is on you. You are hit with 17kg of coarse fur and vicious bites. Long dark claws tear in to you and you are pinned down white the striped creature tries to bite your throat.

It takes some doing but you manage to wrestle free. Blood drips from your wounds and already they itch with the sign of infection. The creature has a bloodied snout, rust rad, mingling with the black and white hairs. It lets out a terrifying growl from the back of its throat and looks to attack again. It’s between you and your knife, so your only choice is to back away.

Eventually the creature gives up and snuffles off in to the undergrowth, down a hole near your shelter you hadn’t noticed before.

When you make it back to your base you once again consult the captive human.

“Badger.” they say, with a solemn nod.

One word: Moose

“Our vehicles are far superior to the local human models, in range, speed, armament, and any other metric you care to name! Nothing could possibly-”

BAMrumblerumblethumpcrash!!!

“That’s called a moose.”

Wolverines.

Also.. dolphins.

The invasion is going slowly. The humans have caught on and are actively destroying information on the planet’s flora and fauna before Intelligence can capture and process it. All that they have are survivors’ accounts. Bears. Hippos. Badgers. Moose. It is becoming obvious this mudball planet is a full-on Death World to the unprepared, and you are so very unprepared.

You lost Jaxurn to a plant. Not even a mobile or carnivorous plant, just one that caused a vicious allergic reaction on contact that killed him in less than a rai'kor. Commander Vura'ko died to an insect bite, a tiny local pest that sucked a tiny bit of her blood and apparently replaced it with a bit of its last meal, which was full of disease. Backwash. She died to bug backwash. And yet you honestly envy them after that… thing you encountered…

When you got back to base the quarantine officer refused to let you inside. They had to roll a containment tank outside to put you in, because you all knew there would be no chance of eliminating the smell if it got into the ship’s air ducts. Smell. You wonder if your nasal slit will ever recover from this stench.

And the smell would. Not. Leave. After incinerating your gear the Q.O. had you use every cleansing agent they could think of, including a few janitorial ones, and still everyone fled the stench if they were downwind of your tank. Desperate to protect everyone’s nasal slits from the smell the quarantine officer interrogated the humans. From them, a glimmer of hope: there was a cure. Somehow the juice of a certain fruit on this mudball was the only thing that could break up the chemicals in the little horror’s spray. Immediately the Q.O. sent a team to recover buckets of the stuff and made you bathe in it. That was hours ago and it didn’t seem to be working, though. All it was doing was turning your blue skin an interesting shade of purple.

Sighing in frustration you wave the med-assist on duty over, who only approaches after checking the wind direction. Annoyed, you flip on the tank`s vox speaker.

“The humans did say it was “grape” juice that removed “skunk” stench, right?“

Every night. 

It came for someone almost every night. 

Any soldier alone was a viable target for this native monster that moved unseen by any but the security viewers, usually only spotted in hindsight.  They were taken as silently as this earth-monster moved.  Sometimes they’d find the remains in the morning taken up a tree and hung there, mostly eaten, as if it were a grisly reminder that the monster was still there, waiting unseen, to strike again. 

What little they saw of the monster on the vidfeed showed true horror.  Yellow eyes that shone with all the light it could gather.  It had fangs as long as his grasping digits.  Claws half that size formed curved hooks that allowed it to climb up their fortifications with impunity.  And in the underbrush, its spots made it almost impossible to see clearly in the undergrowth, if it could be seen at all.

Even the native sentients, the humans, had a healthy respect and fear for it. 

The earth natives called the monster a leopard.  

It was a constant fear that muddied the senses, and let the monster hunt even more effectively as the soldiers were always on edge.  Sleep deprived with fear, it made them even better targets for the monster. 

But rumor was that there was worse on this planet.  Rumors of a monster like a leopard but larger, and bigger in every imaginable sense. Stripped instead of spotted, which leaped from the underbrush with a sound.

A sound that burst eardrums, paralyzed entire units, and let the monster kill with impunity.  While the Leopard wrestled soldiers down and ripped their throats out.  This other monster, the Tiger, killed with its pounce alone.

“We’ve been through this,” Group Leader 455 snapped.  “The dissection of an Earth life form will help the scientists make weapons to combat the rest of this planet’s hellbeasts.  And these are domesticated.  Harmless.”

The troops were not-quite-looking at her in the way troops do when they don’t want to be seen to contradict a ranking officer, but can’t quite muster a correct Expression of Enthusiastic Assent.  “The name of this species,” she pointed out, “is synonymous with dullness and slowness in the language of the Earth barbarians.”  Well, one language out of several thousand—these creatures needed Imperial guidance more than any other world on record—but there was no point in confusing the rank and file.

More not-quite-looking.  455 bubbled a sigh and consulted her scanner.  “That one,” she decided.  “Alone in the separate pasture.  Scans suggest that it’s a male, which means it’s probably weaker.  Possibly it’s kept isolated so that the females don’t eat it before mating season.  And yes, I know some of you are here on punishment detail, but you’re still soldiers of the Imperium.  This squad is perfectly capable of handling a lone, helpless, pathetic male cow.”

I’m enjoying this immensely. Wait until the aliens try Australia for size…

It was a strange creature Tar'van glimpsed at on the vast island known to the humans as ‘Australia’.

“I would warn you not to fuck with us, mate.” Their forced guide, a prisioner, had warned with a chilling grin upon capture. “If you think a moose is bad, wait until you tango with a red back.” To this day Tar'van fears the creature known as the red back, and what horrors it would bring.

The prisioner turned out to be of little help,the stubboness of his people causing them to refuse the danger that the captured human warned of. Tar'van recalls a moment when one of his squad members approached a creature know as a dingo, insistent they had seen these creatures before and they were tame. They barely escaped with 5 of the original 7 members of his squad.

Another moment Tar'van recalls was the brutal mauling they witnessed by the hands of a creature called an ‘Emu’

“Don’t feel too bad,” the prisioner mocked. “We lost a war to the Emu’s as well.”

Now with only 4 members of their squad left, including themself, Tar'van had learned to listen to the prisoner, to be wary of the simplest of creatures. This human was of the sub-species of ‘Zookeeper’ after all.

The ‘Zookeeper’ looks off to the distance, where the creature is.

“It’s a kangaroo, leave it be and you’ll be fine.” Tar'van nods, a human signal of acknowledgement if they are correct. The human smiles a bit.

“That creature cannot possibly harm us.” Tar'van’s squadleader protests. “It is so docile. I will aproach it and bring back it’s head to show this human is a fearmongering liar.”

The human reels back, a look of disgust crosses their face and anger passes through their eyes.

“Fucking do it mate, I dare ya.” The human hisses. The squad leader puffs up their hoinn gland, a sign of pride to their species, and aproached the so called ‘Kangaroo’.

“This will be unpleasant.” A squadmate mutters as they watch their leader raise their fist and bring it down on the creature. The ‘Kangaroo’ looks a little stunned by the impact, before it raises itself upon its strong tail and uses its powerful heind legs to launch their squadleader backwards through the air.

Their squadleader lands upon the ground, unmoving with black blooded oozeing from them. It appears Tar'van is the squads leader now.

“I don’t know what they expected.” the human says, smugness filling their tone. “Kangaroos are fucking shreaded. 8-pack and all.”

Tar'van steps forward to the human, whom inches back in a sign of fear as Tar'van pulls their blade from its holster, and in their first act as leader, frees the human of the bonds around their hands.

“Please,” Tar'van bags. “Get us back safely.”

@kryallaorchid, you guys really lost a war to emus?  Why was it necessary?

oh, mate, you never mess with the emus.

(Jesus christ. Dont get us started on kangaroos)

They had faced Emu’s. They had lost one in the battle but had experienced them. But this was no emu.

Looking to their guide, they all stare in horror as his face changes from calculating to fear. Pure, heart consuming horror as he stares at the large bird. “Cassowary…” They mimic him in fear. Squawking the horrific name as another joins the first in the mad run towards them.

The only ones to survive was the native guide and Tar'van. The guide was carrying the soldier over his shoulder as they made their way back to the settlement. Tar'van was a wreck. Periodically alternating between rocking in complete silence and whispering broken words in horror. When they consulted the native all he said was “Its spring…. Magpie season…”

“Listen up, troops. This armour upgrade has been tested both in the laboratories of the best Imperial military scientists and in the field. We are impervious to the stings of any insect on this hellhole of a planet, striped or not! We can brave the perils of its wildlife, and conquer it at long last! Revenge for our fallen companions! Glory to the Emperor!”

“Excuse me,” the native Terran guide speaks up in a tired tone, and the squad’s cheers die on their lips. “This is Japan. You haven’t seen what–”

“Silence, worm! No sting can penetrate this plating!”

The guide tries to warn them once again, merely earning a blow that throws them to their knees. The troops set out, morale high, certain in their ability to brave the wildlife now and thirsting for vengeance against the non-sentient native species. One soldier thumps his fist against a tree. A hollow sound follows.

In an instant, the soldier is the centre of a storm of the striped insects. At first, no one pays it any mind. Their little stings cannot penetrate the new plating, after all.

But then the soldier falls to his knees, and the squad stares in horror as the insects enclose him in layer upon layer of their own bodies, all moving. The squad’s medic yells a warning at everyone to stay back, watching the readouts of the unfortunate soldier’s armour on their diagnostic screen with undisguised horror. The insects aren’t even stinging. They simply keep moving, one atop the other, and the soldier’s body temperature is slowly rising until he drops to the ground, quite literally cooked alive. The insect swarm takes off, unharmed save for the ones that were crushed when the trooper fell.

Finally asked about what happened, the human sighs. “Japanese honeybees. They do this to wasps, too.”

“How?” You ask. “How has your species dominated this planet?” 

The human bares its teeth. A smile, they call it. Something humans do when they are happy. Yet you can’t help but think of all the creatures with the their large fangs and sharp teeth. (What kind of species uses a threat signal as a sign of happiness?)

“Persistence and ingenuity.” The human answers, still smiling. 

It doesn’t matter that this one is your prisoner. Humans, you decide, are as terrifying as their planet.  

“And scattered about it … were the Martians–dead!–slain by the putrefactive and disease bacteria against which their systems were unprepared; slain as the red weed was being slain; slain, after all man’s devices had failed, by the humblest things that God, in his wisdom, had put upon this earth.” 

– HG Wells, The War of the Worlds,1898

I’m picturing aliens going up against a hoard of Canadian geese, or a swan.

I think at that point they’d just give up.

Or fire ants

No one even MENTIONED snakes yet…

This thing gets better EVERY FUCKING TIME I SEE IT.

“Let us try the creatures that the humans keep for domestic companionship”

“Is that a miniature tiger?”

“Why does this human own a small pack of wolves?”

The aliens ask their human captive why small wolves live with them. 

“Oh, you mean dogs? Yeah, they’re the only animals that can keep up with us.”

The aliens look at each other in fear. “What do you mean?”

“Oh well that’s why you guys ‘won’ is because humans aren’t super fast or strong. I think my middle school biology teacher called us pursuit predators? It means we evolved to hunt things by following them at walking pace until they had to stop to sleep and then catching up to them then. Dogs are the only animals that can keep up with us. Did you know one time a pack of wolves tailed a herd of caribou for three days straight?”

“Uh… okay, what about these small round things with big teeth?”

“Omg dude no if you give a hamster enought time that little fucker can chew through concrete :)”

The aliens wonder if the surrender of humanity was a trap.

Somebody do sharks or sea creatures next. Giant squids would wreak havoc on their ships.

The aliens have sophisticated technology which pretty much allows them to live underwater, which is something even the inventive humans have never managed. Submarines have nothing on alien submersion pods, which can withstand the crushing pressures of even the darkest depths of the oceans and seas. 

The aliens aren’t expecting any difficulties with their underwater expeditions. Of course, that’s when four of the life signs on the central screen simply vanish, like they’d never been there. 

Alpha turns on the direct communication lines to the remaining submersion pods, and the only thing they hear through the tinny speakers is screaming. 

Alpha resists the urge to turn and stare at the shackled human standing behind them, but Beta, Gamma and Theta have no such compunctions. 

The human shrugs. “I mean, we’ve never really been down there so we’re not entire sure, but we’ve heard stories of giant squids and stuff. No smoke without fire, and all that.” 

“There can be neither smoke nor fire underwater, human, cease your prattling.” 

The human snorts. “It’s a phrase. A metaphor? Man, I don’t know, I studied marine biology, not literature.” 

The human is unable to tell them anything useful about what might have happened to the submersion pods, but retrieved footage later shows tentacled behemoths snaking out of the depths of disturbed silt and cold water, and crushing the submersion pods effortlessly, in full view of the outer-hull cameras. The monsters have giant beaks which rip through the organic alloy sheets, and into the bodies of the pod pilots within. 

The outer-hull cameras register the blue of fresh spilled blood and gore, at the same time the on-board cameras register screaming and the red glow of critical power failure. 

The last thing the aliens can see on the retrieved footage is thin, long, snakelike creatures appearing out of the darkness and gloom, creating their own light and descending upon the remains of their brethren. They are accompanied by creatures that look like plastic bags, but which feed upon the toxic remains of the organic alloy of which the pods were made.

The human appears completely nonchalant - there is no love lost between slave and master. “Wait till you see sharks.” 

I’ve seen this post go around a few times, but this time I have some thoughts: 1) This is more or less the plot of Animorphs.

2) Earth has Poison Dart Frogs, we’re clearly a Death World.

3) I’m now imagining them deciding to set up a base on the poles, because life on this planet is clearly dependant on plants. So, that frozen wasteland should be safe of any dangerous megafauna. Cue Polar Bear out of nowhere.

New argument for environmentalism: tigers and killer whales can help stop alien invasions.

I had not realized how small our worlds must feel to the humans until I walked on one of theirs and realized how small I felt. Their ceilings arched high above even their heads, their buildings rose past the horizon, and their seats could fit me comfortably underneath. When I first arrived, I made the mistake of assuming a chair was a resting hide and settled underneath the sturdy metal to rest before resuming my search for the research lab. The hallways and streets seemed endless, full of looming humans and their unfairly long legs. My tentacles were not meant for this much land travel and they ached. I let my skin fade to the dusty gray of the soft fiber mat as I stretched out my remaining main tentacle. It had to work harder to move me because of the loss of my left main tentacle, and it was beginning to twinge.

A large face suddenly leaned down in front of me. I went blue in fear.

“Hey there, you alright?”

“Yes, I was just resting.”

“Okay, you looked like you were hiding and I wondered if you needed help.”

I hesitated, unsure about showing weakness to another being. But humans were strangely helpful creatures; it should be alright. “I am a bit lost.”

“Yeah? Where you headed?” The human crouched down onto the floor so that they could see me better. I wondered how they had spotted me with my skin matching the floor pattern.

I pulled out the scrap of paper with the address written on it and showed it to the human. “Here. I was told to go there, but I can’t find it.”

The human tapped on their tablet for a moment before baring their teeth. “Oh! I know the place! It’s just four blocks away. I can take you there.”

I contracted nervously. I did not like the reminder that humans were omnivores so close to myself. “Um. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all!” They slung a pack off of their back and held it out to me. “Hang onto this.”

I hesitantly wrapped my tentacles around the pack and flashed in panic when they swung it up into the air and onto their back.

“You all right up there?”

I gurgled affirmatively as the human started walking, their long limbs eating up the ground far quicker than I would have ever managed. This was… unexpected but very welcome. The fact that their first instinct was to attempt to carry another being was interesting. Sure, I was much smaller than them, but they had no way of knowing how dense I would be. I could weigh 60 pounds for all they knew, but they hadn’t hesitated to try.

“So why are you headed to the research center, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was told they would research how to give me a new tentacle if I volunteered.” I clung tighter to the pack as they turned abruptly down the walk.

“Me too! They gave me a new leg!” The human knocked their knuckles against their thigh with a hollow thudding sound.

I flashed in fascination. They were carrying me with no apparent difficulty and without any noticeable change in their walking pattern. “Did it hurt?”

“It took a bit of getting used to, but it doesn’t hurt near as bad as the old ones did. The Center knows their stuff.”

“That is very reassuring. Thank you.” I could probably deal with a little pain if it meant regaining some mobility.

“No problem. Here we are!” he walked through a set of massive automatic glass doors and twisted his neck so he could try to look at me. It must be tiring to have to move ones whole head instead of just eyestalks. “You need any water?”

“Um. Yes, please.” My skin was feeling a bit dry.

“He went to a large, glowing machine and punched a few buttons. The machine groaned and there was a terrible thumping noise before a bottle of water fell into a slot on the bottom. He picked up the bottle and held it over his shoulder so I could reach it. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” I tucked the bottle against my body with a minor tentacle to absorb later. I didn’t want to risk spilling water on the helpful human.

The humans walked over to a large desk and attracted another human’s attention with an open hand gesture. “Hi! Yeah, my friend here wants to volunteer. Can you set him up an appointment?”

The secretary looked around for a moment before noticing my eyestalks hovering over the human’s shoulder. They bared their teeth. “Hi, My name is Felicia. I can make an appointment for you no problem. For now, would you be willing to accompany me to a waiting room and fill out some paperwork?”

The human carrying waited for my ‘yes’ before slinging the pack off of their back and gently lowering me to the ground. “you good?”

“Yes. Thank you very much for your assistance.”

“No problem, my dude. Hope they can set you up!” The human waved their open hand at me and headed out the front door.

Felicia walked around the desk with a clipboard in hand. “Are there any accommodations we can provide for mobility, comfort, or safety?”

I flashed in confusion. What an odd question. But yet… “Is it far to the waiting room?”

Their eyes glanced between a point far away and then down at me. “Relatively. Would you like a wheelchair?” They spun their clipboard to face me and it’s surface presented a picture of a seat with wheels, and then an illustration of a being using the device to move from one point to another.

“Yes, please.”

They nodded crisply and went back behind their desk, reemerging with a wheelchair rolling in front of them. I managed to slip up onto the seat and settled in. As soon as I was secure, Felicia began pushing the wheel chair along a hallway. We passed maybe eight doors before they stopped and wheeled me into a room with a much lower ceiling than the entrance area. They parked the chair by a table and set the clipboard down in front of me along with a calling device.

“The first few pages are information packets. This room is not monitored and we will not prevent you from leaving at any time. If you wish to contact someone, you may do so. If you wish to speak to a non human representative, we will do our best to accommodate you. After you finish the information packets and make your decision, please fill out the questionnaires.” They bared their teeth and folded their hands behind their back in what I assumed was a nonthreatening gesture. Very contradictory, these humans.

“If you need any assistance, simply press this button and a volunteer will come to assist you. Is there anything you need at this moment?”

“No, thank you.”

They nodded and left the room, closing the door softly behind them. I flattened a portion of my body into a dish shape and poured some of the water into the dip so it could absorb through my skin while I looked through the paper work. Which, apparently ‘paperwork’ didn’t actually mean ‘work on paper’ as I had assumed. The clipboard was actually an industrial grade tablet. The first page on the tablet was a list of questions that asked if I had been coerced, manipulated, or otherwise forced into volunteering by any being, as well as a list of numbers I could call for protection if I felt I had. Humans seemed to realize how terrifying they were, but were strange in that they appeared to not want to scare anybody.

After signing that I was here of my own free will, that I understood my legal rights, and that I agreed to allow them to test experimental prosthetics on me (permission that I could withdraw at anytime, they mentioned this several times), there was yet another list of numbers I could call at any time for help. Finally, they asked if I was comfortable working in close proximity with humans.

I thought hard before I answered that. Yes, they were big, strong, and showed their teeth far too much, but every human I had come across had been shockingly helpful, going out of their path and giving away their own possessions and time to help. I had even seen on the news that a human had legally adopted Murian children as their own to help care for them. Yes, I think I would be comfortable working with humans. Especially if they all had the trait of carrying smaller beings on their backs. I liked seeing things from their perspective.  

Full story on ArchiveofourOwn

Awww, this is great! I love it!

Humans are unstoppable...Until they aren’t.

I’m not the most eloquent writer, but I’ve had this idea kicking around for a while and figured I’d put it out into the universe.

A lot of the basis for the “humans are space orcs” stuff is the idea that we’re pretty durable compared to many species, yeah? When it comes to physical trauma, we can bounce back from most things that don’t kill us outright, especially given the benefit of hypothetical space-age technology, and adrenaline is one heck of a drug when it comes to functioning under stress. 

But that doesn’t make us unkillable, and even though we can survive debilitating injuries and not die from shock, it doesn’t mean it’s fun. Dying of shock sucks, but at least it’s probably quick.

So - Imagine a ship, adrift in space, slowly being drawn into a star or something. In order to save the ship, someone has to repair the hyper-quantum-relay-majig on the hull or in the engine or whatever. Bit of a problem though- there’s a ton of deadly, deadly radiation (Wrath of Khan style) or poisonous fumes or, I dunno, electrical current, between the crew and the repair. Like, enough to kill most species instantly, so the crew is just like, ‘welp, guess we’ll die then’. But then.

BUT THEN

They ask the human. Because everyone’s heard the stories - you’re basically unkillable, right? Could you survive long enough in there to fix it? And their human goes real quiet for a second, but still says ‘Yeah, I could fix it’. And the rest of the crew is like, ‘Whaaaaaa, it won’t kill you?’ and the human repeats “I can fix it” (which isn’t an answer, but no one catches that, not yet at least), so they send ‘em in. And the human fixes it, they come back, the ship flies to safety, and the crew is thrilled to survive. If the human is a little quiet, well, they’re entitled after pulling off a miracle. Everyone else is just excited to get to the nearest station’s bar to tell their very own human story, cuz, ‘those crazy humans, amiright?’.

The good mood keeps up until the human is late for their next shift. At first it’s just faint unease, but- but they earned a bit of a lie-in, right? No reason to begrudge them some extra rest, even if it is a little weird for them to oversleep. They’ll be fine. Humans are always fine. 

(Right?)

(…Wrong.)

- What is… help. Help!-

- ake up! You have t-

- been days. You need sleep, you-

- nother transfusion. We could-

- out of sedatives!-

A week later, the crew finally reaches the station. They stumble into the bar, haggard and haunted. And over the next months and years a new rumor about humans starts to make its way through space. A rumor unlike any before.

‘Be careful with your humans’ it whispers. ‘Their strength is not always a blessing. Be sure they don’t do something they can’t come back from, because when a human dies… they die slowly.’

What if humans are the only species with teeth?

Human: Struggling with wrapping on ration pack.

Alien: Do you require assistance human Andy?

Andy: (With a mouth full of plastic) Na I’ve got it.

Riiiiippppp

See?

Alien: Loses her shit.

*****

Alien looking at a caramel apple: Soooo you eat this?

Human: Yes we love them!

Alien: But they’re so hard. How do you consume them?

Human: Well yeah sometimes people do break teeth on them.

Alien: I’m sorry you can break your mouth bones on them but you eat them anyway!!??!

Human (Already biting into it): Mhuh.

*****

Evil alien: We have you now human!

Human: OH HELL NO YOU UGLY LITTLE SHITS YOU AINT GOT ME YOU THINK HUMANS ARE EASY TO KILL YOU’VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMING YOU…

Evil alien captain: Shut it up will you!

Evil alien: Yes sir OWWWW!

Evil alien captain: What just happened?!!? WHY IS THE HUMAN ESCAPING!!!?!!??

Evil alien: Humans have mouth bones.

Evil alien captain: ARE YOU KIDDING ME WHY DO HUMANS HAVE MOUTH BONES??!!!!???

human: yeah we had to invent cooking because our teeth are kinda small and useless. look *bares teeth*

alien, already disturbed by these peculiar soft endoshelled creatures: cool. cool. so uh just out of interest what do big, useful teeth look like?

-later-

alien, to her friends: AND THEN THEY SHOWED ME A THING CALLED A PET DOG AND I DID NOT LIKE IT