Human: Banana

What if the reason we haven't seen aliens is because they fear our wild and reckless nature?

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away, there was a highly advanced alien race known as the Zorons. They were a peaceful species that had developed technology far beyond anything ever seen before. They had explored countless planets and had made contact with many different civilizations throughout the galaxy.

One day, while conducting a routine survey of a distant planet, the Zorons stumbled upon a strange new species that they had never encountered before: humans. At first, the Zorons were fascinated by these creatures. They watched as the humans built towering structures, harnessed the power of electricity, and traveled across vast distances using machines that they had created.

But as the Zorons observed the humans more closely, they began to notice something strange. Despite their relatively primitive technology, the humans seemed to possess an almost reckless sense of daring and adventure. They explored dangerous environments, took risks that seemed to defy all logic, and even engaged in violent conflicts with one another.

As the Zorons continued to study the humans, they came to a startling realization: humans were like space orcs.

The Zorons had heard stories from other alien races about space orcs, a legendary species known for their incredible physical strength, unbreakable will, and ruthless nature. Space orcs were said to be fearless warriors who would charge headfirst into battle, no matter the odds. They were rumored to possess a near-indestructible biology that allowed them to survive even the harshest environments.

The more the Zorons observed humans, the more convinced they became that these creatures were, in fact, the space orcs of their own galaxy. Humans possessed the same reckless courage, the same almost supernatural resilience, and the same instinct for violence and conflict as the legendary space orcs.

Despite their initial fascination with humans, the Zorons began to feel a sense of unease around these creatures. They realized that humans were not to be trifled with, that they were capable of almost anything, and that they posed a significant threat to the delicate balance of the galaxy.

And so, the Zorons decided to keep their distance from humans, to observe them from afar, and to hope that they would never have to face the full force of humanity's incredible power and ferocity. For the Zorons knew that humans were not to be underestimated, and that they truly were the space orcs of the galaxy.

(i did not write this, this text is generated)

Toxic

Humans are toxic. Proceed with extreme caution.

.  .  .

Well, this entire mission was officially FUBAR.

Steve wasn’t sure why everything had fallen apart. This was his first mission as a civilian. It was supposed to be nice and simple. Go down planet side, be a body guard/pack mule, go back to the ship, boom, done.

But no.

Something had happened shortly after they arrived (Steve had no idea what, maybe a breach of social protocol?), and now they were in alien prison. There had been a scuffle, of course there was, he and James weren’t going down without a fight. It was their job to protect their crewmates, and at least they had done that. None of their three crewmates had been injured, just jostled a little, and defiantly scared. That fight ended badly for the humans, though. They were outnumbered, and to add insult to injury they were smaller than these aliens. The fight was embarrassingly short. It was infuriating.

He had a headwound and was bleeding all over the place, including those that manhandled him. He might have intentionally rubbed blood on them, just to be petty. A small part of him hoped his blood stained horribly. James had been slammed against a wall and definitely had a concussion. He was slurring his words and couldn’t focus. Fortunately, he wasn’t bleeding, and he wasn’t acting like he had internal damage, so he should hopefully recover without complications.

Steve took stock of the situation- he, James, and their crewmates were in a barred cell, bright lights almost blinding (that couldn’t be helping James), and no aliens were in sight. Steve still had his lockpicking kit, knife boot, and garrot. He wasn’t sure if it was arrogance or ignorance that let him keep his weapons, but he wasn’t going to complain. The first challenge was getting out of the heavy-duty cuffs placed on him and James. Steve was in the middle of trying to use his lockpicks on them when he heard James retching.

James had tried to turn his head so he didn’t get anything on himself, but was only partially successful. Luckily it was mostly just bile and whatever energy drink James had before the team left the ship. Steve did his best to help clean his friend, but it admittedly wasn’t much due to mobility issues and lack of supplies. He didn’t notice the vapor at first. He looked around the cell, thinking something was on fire. Nothing seemed amiss, so he looked down at James. James’s cuffs were… melting? where the bile had landed on him.

Steve blinked. That was a new one. To experiment he rubbed his cuffs on some of the bile, ignoring how gross it was. His cuffs started to melt too. Steve grinned. Sometimes it paid off to be an eldritch space horror abomination. His escape plan just got much simpler.

After making sure James was a comfortable as a concussed man could be, Steve got to work. He took off his overshirt, covered it in the bile, then rubbed it all over the cell bars, chatting ‘ew, ew, ew, gross, ew, gross, ew, ew, ew’ under his breath as he did so. He covered as many bars as he could. Sure, he could have just done a few, enough for them all to escape, but they gave James a concussion, so they deserved to have their cell bars melted. To be extra spiteful he wasn’t careful about not getting his blood everywhere. The bleeding had slowed down, so probably he wouldn’t get lightheaded from bloodless. Hopefully he could put that off until everyone got back to the ship safely.

While the bars were melting Steve got his group organized. He hashed out a quick escape route, instructed two of his crewmates on how to carefully carry a concussed human, and the third how to be a reliable look out. Once he was satisfied, they set out down the hall.

His encounter with the aliens came sooner than he was expecting. Their horrified recoil at the sight of him was gratifying. The reason the aliens were coming for them was not. Human blood was apparently toxic on this planet, and all the aliens that had come in contact with Steve’s blood were getting sick. The threat human blood posed outweighed whatever offence that had gotten them thrown in jail in the first place, so they were being exiled from the planet. Steve was a little disappointed at the anticlimactic-ness of it all, and even more so that he couldn’t see their reaction to their destroyed cell. He’d take the win though.

After James recovered he was very put out that he hadn’t been a more active participant in the rescue. The fact that he was the reason Steve was able to leave behind such malicious destruction was a small consolation.

.  .  .

AN: I started this because I wanted to write a story about human stomach acid destroying alien things. Inspired this post made by @aizawa-is-a-cat

I did little to no research on concussions. I’ve had what the doctor called a ‘semi traumatic concussion with memory loss’. I don’t think I was nauseous, but because of the memory loss I don’t remember the three-ish days before I got the concussion, the car accident that caused the concussion, and my memory of days after is spotty at best, so I can’t use my personal experience. I do know I was very confused, and every few minutes would ask what time it was or where I was.

More stories with Steve and James:

Death Before Two Trips

Specification is Important

Snippets feature Steve and James:

Hide the Object

Human Navigators

Humans are Weird: Burnout

I didn’t know how best to phrase this, and I definitely didn’t write this with the express purpose to romanticize mental health issues; this is just my own experience with the thing

tw: burnout

On Earth, it would be a Friday.

If Nora was back home, it would be 6:22 PM.

She sat back down at her desk, stretching.

-x-

Vullox was conducting their regular End Of Week check-in. They stopped outside Nora’s door.

Inside was silent, but that was regular for this human. She had called herself a “homebody” once, they had remembered. They opened the door.

Now that Vullox was inside, they could hear a faint scratching noise. Human-Nora, they saw, was at the desk. They called to her.

No response.

Vullox made it halfway through the room when they slowed to a confused stop.

Nora was slumped at the desk, her head resting on the wood, her red pen scratching against the journal.

Vullox wondered briefly how Human-Nora could even be writing at all without being able to see the page. They came closer, almost hesitantly.

Nora’s eyes did not so much as move. They were half-open, staring blankly at a point near the door. Her breaths made a few strands of her black hair quiver over her mouth, but she did not notice - or she did not care. Her entire body was completely still—except her hand.

(There was a human word for this they had read somewhere - something relating to felines, Vullox thought.)

A mounting dread growing in them, they looked at the page.

Things that I do just to take stock because I’m so

freAKING

DEAD

grad school full time

WORKING full time

dealt with a nice guy I think??

Idk, I’m just sick of him at this point

blocked him yeah he got annoying I can’t express it

Reeling I guess from it

ESSAYS????!!!! WHY

WORKING

WAKING UP EARLY

LIKE EVERY FREAKING DAY I

DON’T

WANT IT

GOING THRU MY ESSAY OUTL

Here the words stopped, and Vullox looked at the pen.

They stepped back. Tried calling her name again, but the word seemed to die out. Their scales bristled and stuck out on all edges - the feelings of confusion and dread.

Human-Nora didn’t need to look at what she was writing. But it wasn’t muscle memory, as Human-Dalton had explained to them.

No, it was simply the fact that Human-Nora wasn’t writing anything at all.

The red pen moved up and down the page in short, irregular lines—sometimes dragging, sometimes in a quick burst. Occasionally, she would lift up the pen and tap at the page, before resuming. The page seemed to sink in on the most numerous of the red lines, so dense was the ink there. It was some strange, unknown language - or just no language at all.

Very suddenly, Vullox remembered the human word they were searching for as they stared at the pen, as they stared at her unblinking eyes and slumped form.

Catatonic.

Scales rustling, they walked quickly out of the room and to the one on its left.

-x-

Human-Sascha flung open the door in response to Vullox’s frantic calling. “What.”

She sounded so thoroughly annoyed that Vullox briefly reconsidered asking her for help.

“It is Human-Nora,” they responded quickly. “I went to go to her room for her check-in - I think there is—something—something wrong with her.” Vullox’s scales rustled and clicked constantly, a sign of fear on their home planet Vulmien.

“Is she alright?” Sascha asked as she shut the door behind her. Her voice was no longer annoyed - rather, it held a considerable amount of urgency.

She stepped through Nora’s open door and stopped for a few seconds. Nora was still at her desk, eyes glassy and pen scratching lifelessly. Vullox now could absorb the sight in full, and it rooted them to the spot.

Slowly Sascha made her way over to the desk and laid a hand on Nora’s back. She surveyed the writing in the journal and gently began rubbing Nora’s back, murmuring words that Vullox’s translator could just barely pick up:

“What makes you think you can’t do it?”

She murmured this a few times over, each with a pause between the sentence, each with some variation — as if she was having a conversation with Human-Nora’s brain.

The pen scratched on, still in the same irregular rhythm. Nora lay still, breathing through her mouth. The few strands of hair that lay in front of her mouth quivered with a severe regularity that (strangely) unsettled Vollux even though they knew normal human breathing patterns were set to a tempo.

The pen slowed—at least, there seemed to be more pauses between the lines and taps Human-Nora was creating.

Slowly, the pen grinded to a halt, wobbling on its tip. A few more taps.

The pen fell onto the messy page with Nora’s hand covering it. Her eyes closed and opened, and she blinked a few times. She stirred slightly, her back shifting. Her breathing grew deeper, inhales sharper, almost as if it itself was sentient.

Vullox reflected that it was rather like... watching someone coming back to life.

It took even more time for her to push herself up into a normal sitting position. She leaned into Sascha’s arms, sniffled, and a guttural sound escaped her, quite unlike her regular voice.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. Vullox was struck by how much like a child she sounded - a child apologizing to their mother.

“You’re alright,” Sascha murmured into the girl’s hair. “You’re back here now.”

Nora sniffled again. “I don’t wanna… do complex thinking.” She brought a hand up to her face and wiped something on her jeans; she had been crying while in her previous state.

She continued, still in the same child-like tone. “I just wanna… be a cat… and think of cat things… all the time…”

Sascha hid a smile, patting Nora’s arm rhythmically. “Which cat would you like to be?”

“A really fluffy one. Like that Minuet cat, with the fluffy tail.” Nora’s mouth twitched a little. “I’m not even… a cat person. I like dogs. Small dogs.”

“Come.” Sascha wrapped an arm around Nora and led her to the bed. “Come. Rest now. You’ve done a lot for the day.”

Nora curled into herself, beneath the blue blankets, until all that was visible of her were messy tufts of hair sticking up onto the pillow.

Vullox watched Human-Sascha swipe through Human-Nora’s phone and set it down on the little table near the bed just as a man’s voice began to speak from it:

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…”

-x-

Sascha led a highly-confused Vullox out of Nora’s room and gently shut the door behind her.

“She put too much on herself,” she said quietly. “She’s suffering from burnout, so I put her to sleep with some Harry Potter. It’s always been comforting to her whenever she was sick, so I figured this would call for that.”

“But - what is - what about the… red markings in her journal?”

Sascha nodded. “She was initially trying to take stock of everything—trying to see what she had to do so she wouldn’t go on worrying for longer than she needs to. I guess… it turned into a vent, and then it got too much for her. So she just broke down.”

“So… this - this burnout… it does this to her? This strong of a reaction? She seemed quite… catatonic when I first found her.”

Sascha sighed. “This time was particularly strong. But other times she just vents it in her journal, or to someone. She’s not too confident in herself either, so those words that I kept repeating seem to help her.”

There was a pause.

“Thank you. For calling me.” Sascha's eyebrows were drawn with worry, but they cleared quickly.

There were good reasons, Vullox knew, that the two friends had requested to be put next to each other on the ship.

This had to be the strongest one yet.

Coothin burst into Human Sara's quarters, smacking the light tapper with xis upper left arm as soon as xe entered. "Human Sara! I know you enjoy seeing the new aliens and you are missing this arrival! The other humans are very exci--" "nnnhhggg shhh. Shhh." Human Sara remained in her sleeping-bay, arm pulled over her eyes. "No time for one of your 'naps'!" Xe reached out and tugged gently on Human Sara's arm with two of xis. "The other humans say they look like a cross between 'faeries' and 'jellyfish' and you must see them and also show me photos of those creatures!" Human Sara pulled herself to the edge of the sleeping bay and -- Coothin leapt backward as the human's stomach acid erupted onto the floor. Xe slammed the emergency button on xis communicator. It wasn't xis medical emergency button (unless xe had been splashed and it was even now burning through xis coverings), but xe couldn't reach Human Sara to press hers. The emergency system located xim and started blaring nearby alarms. Human Sara was keening now, an angry, pained moan as she curled into a a ball and clutched her pillow around her head.

Medics arrived equipped for the wrong species, and started to call for other supplies, when another human-who-hadn't-gone-to-the-new-species-docking came out of his room, squinting and covering his mouth like he, too, might eject acid. "Turn it off. Turn it OFF!" he demanded. The medics were already here, and disobeying an angry and insistent human seemed unwise. The alarms were turned off. The human slumped sweatily against his door frame. Those with acute hearing, if they hadn't been deafened by the alarms, could hear groans from elsewhere in the warren of human housing. "A bunch of us have migraines. Please fuck off. quietly. quietly fuck off," he mumbled, having apparently spent himself with his brief shouts. "What caused this? Do we need to quarantine the human sector??" It wouldn't be the first time. New rules had to keep being added about things the humans had to be screened for when returning from planetside.

"mi'en dlar kweshen." Coothin's translator could not parse the human's slurring and transmitted it directly, but the medics had more powerful systems for this sort of scenario. "no kwarteen. debrief la'er. Shhh..." He faded, staggering back into his quarters. ... A handful of medics-of-various-species and a handful of humans who had recovered first sat (or equivalent-ed) around a table. The humans did most of the talking among themselves. "Is there something we all ate?" "I didn't eat breakfast, I woke up too late for [religious seasonal meal, details sent to handheld]," said a woman whose garment extended over the top of her head. A strongly built human rolled his eyes. "Well I didn't eat dinner." He sat up straight, smug. "Intermittent fasting, you know." Several of the other humans rolled their eyes. "Okay, not food. Stress? I know me and Sara are doing some high-stress work, is everyone else's stuff going off the rails?" The alien medics looked at each other. What rails?

But the humans shook their heads. "Hormones? ...Ladies, at least?" More head-shaking. "Any changes to the cleaning chemicals?" They turned to the medics, who were not in charge of the cleaning robots but did have access to which chemicals were being used where. The medics answered in the negative.

"Everyone good on water? Though I dunno why we'd all get dehydrated at once. No atmospheric water emergencies, right?"

Again, something the medics kept track of. Or would find out about quickly as sick crewmates turned up. "No, atmospheric humidity constant. Well, up a little, in some sectors, for the Dre'mls, the new ones? They require higher humidity and less pressure so maintenance spent most of the day running reclaimers on null gasses, the ones that no-one breathes, so needs are still met but the percentages are all --"

"Wait, wait wait wait" -- humans were talking over eachother and the one with the garment banged her palm on the table to shush everyone. "There's been a drop in atmospheric pressure? Over some hours?"

None of the medic species liked the way the humans all had their eyes trained on them. "...yes? The Dre'mls are delicate--"

The humans tossed up their hands, some of them shouting. "Next time just vent it, oh my [human deity]. The sudden drop will make us all miserable for a few minutes, but we handle that going on and off planetside all the time. Don't drop it over HOURS; that means a storm is coming and it'll knock a bunch of us on our ass."

"... oh. That is... unique. It's rare for a species to sense it at all, if it's within survival parameters. If we encounter a species that requires higher pressure, should we --" "I think it matters less, but err on the side of caution and do it fast, yes."

"We will report this to maintenance and add it to the human files. Thank you all for your time; you may go." And it was added to the human files, under "health risks", that causing a fast pressure drop would cause widespread brief pain, but a slow pressure drop would cause concentrated, disabling pain for hours or days. It was also put under the secret "Arguments that species is secretly/unwittingly a hive mind despite denials" file.

the process of transitioning has a lot of ups and downs. you will experience massive highs of euphoria and crushing lows of dysphoria as you change things about yourself. you will hate and love your new hair many times, you will be scared and excited by what hormone replacement therapy brings, you will be worried about how much you've changed yourself and if you can recognize the new person you see as yourself. you may struggle to adapt, you may accept everything gracefully as it comes, you may do a little of both. either way, it's okay to be affected by transition. it's okay to have highs and lows. it's okay to both love and hate what you're experiencing. it's okay to struggle, if you do. transition is hard, but it's worth it for those who want it.

Humans are weird

Hey there demons, it's ya Boi. I have no thoughts, head empty but that brings me to my point. How much of social media is just mindless thoughts? Like really why do we do this, do aliens do this? Just randomly talk about anything to complete strangers. Would they find it weird? Find out thoughts weird? Just imagine the senario, trying to show an alien your phone and then bringing up the topic of social media.

Alien: So you just say things and people listen?

Human: well yes but only certain things, like funny shit or fun ideas. No one likes to listen to the stupid things we read

Alien: then why read it if it's bad? Why not ignore it or not look?

Human: well some people just have the need to argue and we like to watch, it's funny to laugh at stupid people. But we mainly just look at cat videos, here look at this one-

Alien: You watch those willingly?! They are royalty where I am from!! You should pay money for this!!!

Human in a quiet voice:….. I fucking knew it.

First of all I'm just gonna thank @uhm24 for writing about Aliens getting to know people who have different sexualities and genders than other people :)

But i got another request, since I'm not a writer, and english isn't my first language :')

Anyone can volunteer C:

(I feel like I'm asking for too much since i did ask for a request yesterday, but let's not rush, I'll be patient.)

2nd Request:

- Aliens finding out two of the humans in their ship are trans by hearing two other humans talking shit behind their back. They approach them, interested and ask what them being a "trans" is (if you aren't trans, and you think of writing this, please do not write the t slur since the word is offensive to the trans community.)

I wish you good luck if you've thought of writing this!

Thank you to everyone who got me to 250 likes!

Ayo

Thank u sm

I cant type my hands are numb

Help

By all accounts, the human's biology doesn't make any sense.

All our theories of civilizations require the civilization's species to be herbivorous - carnivores and omnivores were too prone to violence, as hunting is needed for their survival, which made them too unlikely to cooperate on large scale.

And yet, here it is. A specimen from an advanced species, and our inspection of it revealed signs of meat-eating.

When we first noticed the canines, the entire crew freaked out. This thing could potentially kill us all.

Luckily, it was still unconscious, so we weren't in immediate danger. We moved it to a secluded room in the ship, where it is now waking up.

I was chosen to enter the room when the human wakes in order to attempt to question it about it's biology.

I do not know if I'll get out of that room alive.