#looking for 'humans are space orcs' stories

[marlynnofmany]

Not Special, Part Two

(Part One is here)

Oscar Tennyson grabbed his purchases and hurried after the rest of his crew. As usual, they were walking quickly on their longer legs and bellowing for him to keep up. The teeth-and-scales Mighty had no patience for human weaknesses. Of which there were many.

But, as Oscar had just learned, there were some strengths as well. And he couldn’t wait to show them.

He scampered onboard before the door shut, wondering if they would actually leave without him if he dawdled too long. Probably not — who would handle their finances and hunting permits? They’d have to hire someone else, because they certainly didn’t want to do it themselves. But he didn’t want to test that.

He had much better things to test. While the stark metal walls vibrated with the engine’s revs, Oscar wove between scaled biceps and tails to his own quarters. He pressed the panel by the door, which was oversized and cracked like all of them on this ship. The Mighty were not fans of fiddly little buttons or keys. Not when they could have panels big enough to punch, which only broke sometimes.

When Oscar stepped through and closed the door behind him, he felt immediately relieved. This was his private space to decorate as he chose, without worrying that someone would take things down or make fun of him. Ship rules were clear about personal quarters. Oscar’s fake orchids and real cactus made the room homey, along with more posters than the walls could hold. They spilled onto the ceiling, lining it with nature scenes from Earth, sports figures he admired, media announcements, and a good number of fluffy kittens. This was the one spot on the ship where he could feel comfortable, and he was making the most of it.

The bag of refueling station supplies crinkled as he set it on his small table to remove the contents. A high-end store might have had Waterwill bags that evaporated after a day, but this place used regular old plastic. Inside were food cubes, bottled water, and the purchase he was most excited about: six cans of very weak caffeine.

He scanned the label. It was just like the other human had said. Tall cans in dramatic colors, but not much of substance inside. At least, not as far as the average human was concerned.

Oscar couldn’t wait until dinner time.

Before then, he had a permit to submit and several other things to check. The ship should be on the way to Argosha, which was notorious for welcoming outsiders in to hunt the Dagger Birds that were giving everyone so much trouble, but he had better get their paperwork in order anyway.

He grabbed his tablet and left his safe haven, heading back into the public parts of the ship where he could face taunts from any direction. Really, these guys were just like his cousins. At least it was familiar.

Fending off tiresome conversation — “How’s the weather down there?” “Why don’t you ask your mother?” —he reached the bridge and found a corner to stand in. The captain and the pilot were arguing about where to land when they reached Argosha.

“The main site will have more people to admire our ship!”

“The new one is closer to the hunting grounds!”

“Dagger Birds are overrunning the place; everywhere is a hunting ground!”

“Do you want to pay the damages for shooting a building instead of a bird? We can take it all out of your pay, if you want!”

“Fine, but if we land on some overgrown hedge and the ship is scratched, you get to pay for that!”

“Fine!”

The pair of them stopped yelling and sat back in their seats as if nothing at all was the matter, because it wasn’t. Polite disagreements were always held at that volume.

In the brief lull while the pilot manipulated the controls with more force than a lesser console could withstand, Oscar spoke up. “I’d like to come too.”

Both dinosaurian heads turned to stare at him in surprise. “Why?” the captain demanded. “One kick from a bird, and you’re useless to us.”

“Thanks,” Oscar said flatly. “I’ll keep out of the way. I want to take photos of your fighting prowess; I should be able to sell them.”

Both of the Mighty preened at that, as he’d known they would. Ego was big here. The captain agreed, and Oscar didn’t let slip any hints of his secret plan. He just finished working on his tablet, then retreated to his quarters to practice Dagger Bird mating calls.

The air on Argosha was breathable but hot, at least this part of it. Oscar was ready with his Tool in his pocket. (He’d gotten out of the habit of calling it a phone, since the Mighty were right in that it did a near-infinite number of things.) (He still smirked quietly at the potential innuendo, but it was a conversation he didn’t really want to have with giant dinosaur aliens, so he kept that to himself.)

“This way,” announced the captain, pointing in what looked like an arbitrary direction into the wilderness. Whooping with the alien equivalent of testosterone, the crew raised their blasters and tromped off the landing pad with Oscar following close behind.

True to his word, he did take some pictures as he went. But he was waiting for his moment.

It didn’t take long to come. The shouting scared off all the wildlife, then the Mighty found a boulder to crouch behind and wait for the creatures to come back. They played a silent counting game to see who was best at guessing when they’d spot something worth killing.

Distant footsteps on leaves made them smack each other in excitement, but nothing appeared between the trees.

Now or never, Oscar thought. Knowing better than to startled his crewmates, he whispered, “Here, let me.” Then he took a deep breath and let loose with his best imitation of a Dagger Bird seeking a mate. “Woarrrrrrk!”

While the Mighty shushed him and wondered what he was doing and started to figure it out, an answering woarrk sounded from nearby.

Then another, then, three.

Oscar wondered if he’d overplayed his hand.

No less than five large and eager Dagger Birds crashed through the undergrowth at once, croaking and flapping, taking offense at each other’s presence. The Mighty all roared and leapt out, firing in every direction.

Oscar dashed for a tree he’d been eyeing, the one with lots of branches, and didn’t stop climbing until he was out of beak-stabbing range. He held tight to the trunk, catching his breath and watching the chaos. Belatedly, he remembered to take out his Tool and snap some photos.

This was actually a good angle. He got a great shot of the captain aiming down the throat of a wide-open beak, then another a split second later when the beak snapped shut inches from his head. Another of the engineer shooting one from beneath. Two of the pilot tackling the largest bird and sinking teeth into the back of its neck where it couldn’t reach to stab.

Other species did their trophy hunting from a distance. The Mighty liked the fight as much as the kill. Their blasters were set on a deliberately low setting, and their teeth were sharp.

Safe up in his tree, Oscar grimaced at how bloody things were getting down below. He yelled another bird call to distract the one about to spear the crewmate who’d been knocked to the ground, and he got a cheerful “Nice save by the little guy!” which was as close to a thank you as he was going to get. The crewmate scrambled up and bit off a chunk while the bird was distracted. A couple of the crew looked like they were bleeding their own blood, but most of it was coming from the Dagger Birds, which were just as stubborn as the stories had said. Not one of them ran off. The last to die fell on top of somebody, which just added laughter from the rest of the crew to the triumphant cheers.

Oscar took a picture of the bird being dragged off his disgraced crewmate. That photo he wouldn’t sell, but would keep as minor blackmail if he ever needed it. Sticking it up on the wall to remind everyone of this moment could be a valuable strategic move.

“We are the MIGHTY!” bellowed the captain, and the whole crew joined in with a deep-voiced cheer. Oscar climbed down to more approval than he’d gotten in the last month.

“Good work by our human here! Who knew you could do that?”

“That’s sure an efficient way to hunt!”

“We should bring you out every time. That was great.”

Oscar took the praise with pride, not bothering with modesty. That was just another word for weakness as far as these guys were concerned.

He managed to dodge when one of them made to slap him on the back with a large bloodstained hand, which just made them laugh more. Luckily the captain directed everybody to gather their kills for dragging back to the ship, rather than chasing the human and messing up his clothes.

Oscar took a position on the lowest branch of his tree, taking a couple more photos as the victorious hunters figured out how to get it all home. If anyone had asked Oscar, which they never would, he’d have suggested going back for a hovercart, or taking them one at a time. But of course they did neither.

Definitely the type to insist on carrying all the groceries in at once, Oscar thought as his crewmates strained to drag the giant carcasses through the undergrowth. He hopped down and kept pace out to the side where there was no blood on the leaves.

They finally made it back to the ship, doing nothing to clean up the smears of blood they left on the landing pad. Oscar darted off to his quarters as soon as the door opened. The rest of them could handle getting the birds into cryo storage, or chopped up right away, whichever they saw fit to do. The lowest-ranking one without significant injuries would be in charge of clearing the blood from the hallways, but only after they’d all taken a walk through the water-and-air blast chamber that passed for a shower here. It had always reminded Oscar of a car wash.

He kept to himself until dinner, sorting his photos while everyone else dealt with the catch and the mess and the injuries. The mechanical medsystem on this ship was just as efficient as the shower. They’d all be in decent shape by mealtime.

And mealtime after a successful hunt was also drinking time.

Oscar usually ate in his room, wanting nothing to do with the raucous meat-tearing and drunkenness. But today was different, because he’d learned something valuable about the liquid they were getting drunk off.

Oscar considered the cans he’d bought, then decided it would have more of an impact if he just took one of the communal supply. So instead he grabbed his new food cubes and a premade tin of spaghetti from his mini-cryo, and followed the sound of laughter.

They were already a little drunk when he got there. Sprawled across chairs with a table full of meat slabs spilling over the edges of the plates. And as expected, there were tall purple cans everywhere.

“Heyyyy, it’s the little guy! Let’s hear it for the human with the surprise talent! Maybe you’re not useless after all!”

“Thanks,” Oscar said as they pounded fists against anything in reach as a form of applause. He leaned against the open doorway and shuffled his belongings so he could get a fork in a meatball without setting down the food cubes. “That was pretty easy where I’m from. You guys really can’t do that?” He popped the meatball into his mouth, casual as you please.

The Mighty of course, thought this was funny, and took it in stride. More gulps from their drinks, more savage mouthfuls of food, and a few questions about the surely-excellent photos he’d gotten, which would make them all look amazing.

Oscar said he’d share the best ones. These would make fine decorations in their own quarters, and would probably be appreciated by the right paying audience.

Then came the moment he’d been waiting for. The captain raised his drink in another cheer, and somebody noticed that the human was the only one without a can in his hand.

“Get the human a warrior’s drink!”

“Bet you he passes out after one sip.”

“Nah, he can take at least two.”

Oscar smiled quietly. If they’d been paying attention, they might have changed their bets at that smile. He set his food down in the hallway to free his hands. When one muscular, taloned arm offered him a can of their most potent intoxicant, he took it. Oh so casually.

Then he whipped his head back and chugged the whole thing.

“Oh! Human’s gonna die!”

“I’m not cleaning up the puke!”

“What the supernova! There are better ways to go than that!”

“Somebody drag him to medical so we don’t have to find somebody else to do the boring stuff.”

“Yeah, he was just getting interesting.”

Oscar ignored all of them, giving the empty can a thoughtful look. It felt like the same thin aluminum he remembered from Earth. And if there was anything his cousins had taught him, it was the proper way to dispose of a beer can.

He dug his fingertips in and crushed it against his forehead. Then while the room reacted to that, he wiped off the drips and threw the can across the room. When it went into the trash on the first try, he was internally very glad, but he didn’t let it show. Instead he picked up his food and resumed eating. “What’s the big deal?” he said. “Is that what you guys have been getting drunk off? How quaint.”

“How in all the black holes—”

“No, he’s gonna fall over any second; just watch.”

“Quaint, that’s hilarious.”

“He’s totally bluffing. Just wait and see.”

Oscar was enjoying being the center of the crew’s attention today. He made a show of sweeping his eyes across the various cans in the room. “None of you has finished a can yet, I see. Was that supposed to be strong?”

There was widespread laughing and elbowing of each other, most of them still clearly convinced that the silly little human was going to throw up and die any second now.

So Oscar set down his food, walked over to the table, and chugged a second one. It was a bit more liquid than his stomach was really happy with, but that was a small price to pay for the uproar that followed.

They exclaimed; they renewed their bets; they drank from their own cans; they got visibly drunker and abandoned their bets.

Oscar leaned against the doorframe, eating spaghetti and food cubes.

After one particularly unsteady crewmate tripped onto the table full of meat, and someone pointed out that the human wasn’t wobbling at all, Oscar said, “You guys don’t know much about my species, do you? Half of what I eat would liquify your insides.” He held up a food cube, eyeing the different colored specks of all the ingredients that made it balanced for an omnivorous digestive system. He laughed. “You guys just eat meat. How boring!”

They only got drunker after that. Oscar was pretty sure that the nearest two wanted to pat him on the back, but the floor was moving too much for them to make it all the way to the doorway. Somebody offered him a raw slab of Dagger Bird. He turned it down with casual scorn.

“Nah, meat isn’t worth eating unless it’s passed through fire. That’s weakling meat you’ve got there. Get back to me when it’s cooked brown.”

They loved that. The party was an epic one, only winding down when most of the crew was too drunk to reach more drinks. Oscar demonstrated his steadiness by picking through the mess to drop his food containers in the trash, then move back to the door.

“Well, it’s been fun,” he said. “I’ll send in the med-drone to make sure nobody’s going to wake up dead. Let me know if you want to get your tails handed to you by any more Dagger Birds. I’ll call ‘em in close for you again.”

He got groggy approval to that.

Oscar left with a smile on his face, and a mild amount of caffeine in his blood. Maybe after stopping by the medcenter, he’d use that energy on some exercise. Thoughts of the run to the hunting grounds, and the way his crewmates had paced themselves, suggested that it wouldn’t take much practice for him to out-endurance the Mighty on the VR treadmill.

I wonder what else I can do?

~~~~~~~~~

By popular request, this is the sequel to the story I posted last week, which is part of the ongoing series of backstory for the main character in this book. (It started that way, at any rate, and turned into a sprawling series in its own right. Fun stuff.)

Patreon opens the day after tomorrow, on May 1st! There's a free tier and everything if you want to keep up without strings attached! And you can even request more delightful nonsense like this.

Onward!

#multiple people wanted to see what happened next #and who am I to say no to that? #this is twice as long as the first story #because I had to cover everything #three cheers for this guy and his newfound respect #not to mention self-confidence #I imagine the dynamic will be different the next time he visits home and interacts with his cousins #noogies from a frat bro is nothing when you've dealt with macho space dinosaurs #anyways; other tags: #humans are weird #hfy #haso #eiad #humans are space orcs #my writing #The Token Human #writeblr #looking forward to the Patreon you guys #it's gonna be great

[mumblesplash]

do you ever end up accidentally getting super attached to a trope so specific and rare you don't even know how to look for it? 'space aliens failing to understand that a human showing teeth usually isn't a threat display' isn't even an ao3 tag. finding that shit in published fiction or tv shows is next to impossible

#<- guy who searches ao3 by the 'misunderstandings' tag without even specifying a fandom #mumbling #if you've been following me for a while you may remember my introduction to mcyt was when i started scraping the bottom of the barrel #looking for 'humans are space orcs' stories #but what you may not know is that was already a ways down a rabbit hole that began with *avatar the last airbender* #it basically went #'holy shit salvage is a good story' -> read every existing version of hakoda being a good dad to zuko -> #'shinsou hitoshi getting adopted by aizawa has the same vibes fuck it i'll read that too' -> 'why are they aliens in so many of these' -> #get addicted to the 'humans are space orcs' trope -> find a whole collection of fics about that exact thing -> #for some reason the collection is 80% dsmp fics -> i am not picky -> 'oh no they've got a crow-coded father figure' -> #still not rly interested in the dsmp source material -> minecraft kinda interesting tho -> wait what's hermitcraft -> and now here we are #all bc 3 years ago i wanted zuko to have a decent father figure #firelord ozai made me draw pinup art of goodtimeswithscar: the true and harrowing tale of my descent into madness #flameo hotguy or whatever the kids are saying these days

[ishipgenfics]

You and Your Human: Part 1

You are small. You have tall ears and a long tail you use for balance and to carry things. You are covered in orange-yellow fur. Standing on two legs, you are about three feet tall, but you do not usually stand on two legs. Your front legs have opposable thumbs. Your language is a series of chirps and squeaks.

You are very, very smart. You were a member of your species first space venture. You were sent as a doctor. In the years since, you have worked on nearly twenty different ships. You discovered you have a natural knack for languages. You know everything you would ever need to know.

But... you do not understand humans.

You have heard the stories, of course. Humans are very new to the galaxy, even newer than you, and they are feared. They are strong, able to take levels of pain that would kill even a Xephala. They choose the things they care about, and will destroy anything else without hesitation. They are unaffected by mental tortures, seeming to suppress memories that would make any other species break. They are deadly, and to be avoided at all costs.

But personally, you don't really see it. Your human is bigger than you, of course, but you know that you are small. It rips fabric easily, but it as gentle with you as a Kaysbury beetle. Terror flashed in its eyes when you tried to give it a medical examination. It shrieked like a nestling when it accidentantly cut itself on a bolt.

For Saint's sake, this thing can't even handle spice! How could this possibly be a threat?

You cannot speak with your human. Though you know many languages, you do not know the one it speaks. You are trying to learn. You have never yet found a language you could not master. Until then, you find other ways to understand him.

Your human is tall, obviously compared to you, but even compared to the pictures of other humans you have seen in books. It is good at projecting a confident aura, but it has tells. Its hands shake, just a little, when it is in an enclosed space. It clenches its paws when a Cervilian comes on screen. And it hates medical equipment. Its breathing speeds up noticeably when it is forced to be near such.

You record all your observations with a keen eye and a yellow notepad, and adjust your behavior accordingly.

Although your human seems uncomfortable around others, you need your crew back. This flight was supposed to be a test drive, trying out some of their duties in the new vehicle. You got distracted by your human, but the deadline is swiftly approaching. They will assume you dead if you do not return soon.

Your human is sleeping. You do not know if it has gone at light-speed before, and you do not have the words to explain. You hope it will not awaken.

You hop up into your captain's chair. It was made for a creature taller than you, but it will serve. You tap the appropriate command and passcode into the panel at your side. It glows and hums in acknowledgement. Your human has never been here. It does not like bright lights. You will have to ask Meritha if she can adjust it once you get back.

To your relief, the light-travel goes off without a hitch. It's always a dangerous procedure, no matter how many pamphlets they pass out, and you know it. You also know you aren't the best pilot in your crew. The only reason you were sent was for your diplomacy. You might not make it back, but at least you won't start a war.

You knock on your human's door and it emits a low beeping frequency until your human wakes up. Its lips are pointed downward and it is slumping. Your human dislikes being woken up.

"Thing? What-is?" your human says in your language. You shake your head (means negative, negate action). You know its language better than it knows yours, and you already have to translate for your crew. You have explained countless times that it is simply easier for you to learn rather than it, but your human is persistent. It is... endearing. In its way.

"New place," you explain. "New people. You okay?"

"Why?" your human answers. It looks uncertain. You jump up onto its shoulder and run dexterous fingers through its hair. Your human likes touch.

"Ship," you hesitate. "More safe with them. Them here, than you safer. Us safer."

"They are good?" your human asks. Its voice is low. It is being vulnerable, showing its emotions. You are so proud.

You nod. Your tail is swaying, your eyes are bright, your ears tall. It's honestly a little embarrassing-- you are glad your human can't read Pyrican body language. "Good. Safe."

You land upon the planet, your human by your side. It is wrapped up in tight clothes and a mask. It did not fight this, although you did not have the words to explain why. Your human never seemed to need the explanation that being a human was a dangerous thing in this galaxy. It knew.

Your crew is not here. This is the meeting spot. You checked, and double checked. It is in an isolated location, but with a mountain to serve as an easy sign if you land in the wrong place. This is the right spot. And you are here and they are not.

They... left you.

You have left ships before, of course. When you would get a new assignment, if you saw a better opportunity, if they did something you could not tolerate, if they asked you to do things you were unable to do. You are not a criminal, but you are a freelancer, which means you have run in the same vein as criminals before. Every time you left, it was professional and communicated clearly. If a fight broke out after that, well, that wasn't really your fault now was it?

You have never been left like this. You did not realize quite how much it would hurt.

You feel a gentle tap on one of your front legs, and turn around to see it is your human. It is bent down, with an expression you do not quite recognize on its face. "You-safe?" it asks. "Body tesned. Mind tensed. Me worried you?"

You are too tired to tell it to speak its native language, to not bother itself for you. You are one of the few species that can safely produce adrenaline, and although it doesn't make you a saints-damned killing machine like it does with humans, the crash is just as bad.

"Expected outcome not," you try to explain. Your small body shakes with heavy breathing. Light-travel is stressful and adrenaline is a void of a drug. "Crew should be here. Crew not here. Alone."

Your human wraps you up in a gentle embrace. You feel certain that if it just squeezed a little tighter, it could pop you like a balloon, but it does not. "I am here."

Whimpering and snuffling, you bury your face into your human and let yourself cry.

#second person #story #story snippet #just a couple oc's of mine #exploring the galaxy #languages are fun!!! #i don't really know much about them #but they are #humans are space orcs #Part 2: You Go Get Some New Crew Members Idiot #also have you seen a pika? #that's what 'you' looks like #but bigger #and with taller ears and a longer tail #writeblr #you and your human

[little-pondhead]

I feel like as a child I was Strange and Unsettling Enough ™ that my mother had suspicions about how weird I was, but I was her first kid so she just chalked it all up to Normal Child Behavior ™ every time I did something new.

Now we’re both realizing I was just really fucking weird.

#i got diagnosed with adhd after highschool #and we both looked at each other and went ‘oooooooooh’ #also some stories from my childhood just sound like something that belongs in a weird monster story #or just like #a modern story about changelings #maybe human are space orcs???? #oh this small child has an obsession with art? yeah that’s normal #oh the teachers literally have to restrain the child and make them go last during arts n crafts time? #that’s less normal but still acceptable #oh shit the child needs braces do we have dental insurance?? #hey the child kinda forced their own teeth to grow straight now we don’t need to go to the dentist:) #yeah that’s perfectly fine:)) #yknow maybe we should not let her cut her own nails she keeps filing them into points #where are these bruises coming from? who knows #this child has a concerning ability to stay quiet when something is wrong #like when SHE FRACTURED HER NOSE AND NOBODY KNEW #this child learned so many animal sounds!! that’s so cool:) #young child why do you know about the donner dinner party you are in fifth grade #why do you know how to mummify a person in extensive detail this is sixth grade #ah yes #carving atalatals for fun is a completely normal activity side note where did she get the knife #I’m calling myself out in third person #listen I did a lot of weird shit and I was a little bloodthirsty bitch #especially with my two brothers #by the time the girls were born I mellowed out and instead started corrupting the kids #i still bite tho #no bark and all bite #pondhead rambles

[emuwarum]

Hey Emu, how do you manage to reblog so many things?

I read extremely fast. I’ve also got my queue at 50 posts a day so that’s also some of the posts you’ll see

but I mostly just read really fast and if I like it I reblog it

if I’ve run out of queue and I’ve hit the reblog limit I’ll put it on one of my sideblogs though those also have their own topics

@zyemuside I do for fandom stuff or just to tag more specifically, @themailboxknight just cool nature stuff mostly and random objects, @zebra-has-skillls for random art I like, @timeforposts was a little project of mine tagging all those ‘wet beast wednesday’ and tumblr holiday type posts, I’m building up drafts for it again and I’ll start tagging that stuff and queue it eventually

@camp-cretaceous-posts I think was my first ever sideblog? fandom it’s for was really really quiet for some time, and I really missed seeing it on my dash so I spent hours trawling the archives of my main blog and others peoples blogs to find posts related to the show and queue them. Not much going on there besides the queue, but it’s nice to take a look through and see posts from before earlier seasons released, or from live-blogs of the show, even posts from the reveal trailer of it. I’ve still got about 400 drafts on that blog in case the queue gets a little low, and I usually shuffle the queue after adding posts from drafts or just every few weeks as I’ve added new posts from the main tag.

this ended up into me talking about my sideblogs too but yeah I have Many posts. I also like to every few months go back through my main blogs archive to just queue old posts that I haven’t seen in a while or are still cool. It’s honestly really fun to do for me

#Emu tries to post #trawling archives was pretty much how I started using tumblr without an account #looking for humans are space orcs stories and other stuff #and so I still love going through my queue to find one specific video from who knows what month #and I find a lot of other cool stuff along the way

[rockatanskette]

One of the running themes in "humans are space orcs" circles is the idea that humans will bond with anything. I can think of plenty of stories of humans making friends with wild animals, alligators, predators, creatures that aliens would immediately recognize as too dangerous for contact. But I was reading a story about two orangutans released back into the wild today and there's a certain element to that story I haven't seen so often: humans will bond with animals regardless of whether the bond is reciprocal.

For every story of a human making friends with some unlikely creature, there are dozens of stories of conservation specialists tranquilizing animals, tending to their wounds or illness, and releasing them because they're too dangerous to handle consciously. Stories of tagging birds of prey and timber wolves and Siberian tigers. Fat Bear Week? Any of those bears would rip your face off without hesitation. But they're round and fluffy and intimidating and beautiful and we love them even though they hate us. We make an effort to protect our monsters, because we love our monsters.

Imagine an alien planet that's experiencing ecological degradation. Their flora is dying, and they can't figure out why. And, offhandedly, in a diplomatic mission, an allied planet mentions that humans have successfully reversed similar devastation on Earth. So they reach out and Earth sends some experts to check it out. And what do they suggest? Reintroducing an apex predator that used to be a scourge against alien settlements. The species still exists in other regions of the planet, but it is slowly disappearing outside of its native habitat.

The aliens are askance. They've told bedtime stories to their young of these creatures: how they tear apart their prey, how they've eaten their organs and rip apart their homes. Some suggest that it's a trick—that the humans are trying to prompt them into destroying themselves.

But there are many alien cultures on this planet, with many different stories and some of them agree. The world watches in anticipation as the humans help their predators. They seek them out, these fearless otherworlders, putting them to sleep and tending their wounds. They keep track of the beasts, not to harm them, but to protect them.

At first the doomsayers' prophecy seems to come true. The predators devour prey animals like a feast, like a slaughter to people who have never been so close to the circle of life. But then, slowly, not over months but over years, comes change. The prey no longer eat the leaves and buds of every tree; some are left to bloom and fall. The refuse rots in the dirt, and the floods cease as the soil grows thick with compost and rotted bone, thick enough to hold water. The shapes of rivers change to protect their surroundings from the rain. The pollinators rebound.

Decades later, other cities and nations begin to accept this human myth of "conservation." Champions arise, alien champions, now, who go into the depths of the wilderness and the seas to protect those predators from the apathy of time.

Not all of them make it. This is something else the humans teach. Sometimes the tranquilizers are not enough. Sometimes the timing is wrong. Sometimes accidents happen. And when they do, the aliens look to humans for an answer for why they should protect these creatures who have killed those they love?

"Because they knew the risks," the humans say. "Because they would be the first to speak to save them. Because they taught you to see the beauty in the wild and you must not close your eyes."

So, despite themselves, they don't.

#humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #humans are space australians #this wasn't originally about steve irwin #but it turned into being about steve irwin #i'm crying about stingrays now #it's fine

[imgae-insertshockedgasps-16]

humans are space orcs

imagine someone with chronic joint pain, whose dream their whole lives has been to go to space and meet the aliens and be a scientist and learn

so they look up the requirements as a kid and go "fuck."

they wouldn't make the cut.

their dreams are dashed. hopes ruined. lifelong dre destroyed.

except....

they've never really said a whole lot about their pain. they don't particularly like doctors, and they think that they've been managing just fine, so they never saw the point.

so maybe... maybe if they just don't say anything, they can make it to space.

they spend all of their time training. doing physical therapy exercises so that their joints aren't so loose, soaking up as much scientific and mathematical knowledge as they can, teaching themselves to push through the worst of it in pursuit of their dream.

and they make it.

they make it to space! it was gruelling, tortuous work, but they made it!

their first mission is an exploratory one, with a diverse crew which only has one other human.

they're thrilled.

they have dozens of alien friends and acquaintances. they spend hours learning and researching alien planets and cultures. it's everything they've ever wanted!

but

it's exhausting.

they're in more pain than they've ever been, more frequently than they ever have.

they keep up their exercises as best they can, but even those are often too much.

they smile when asked if they're alright, tell everyone that "i'm fine! just tired."

but they need a break. they can't imagine going or being sent back to earth, this is their home now, with these people, on this ship. but they don't know how much longer they can take this.

one day, on their day off, a fellow researcher comes and knocks on their door.

"are you here?"

"not today islith."

"but we've been called! there are some exciting new discoveries that need further cataloging and investigation, and carlmoth thought you would enjoy the task!"

"i can't today, islith."

"are you ill?"

"...kind of? but i'll be right as rain tomorrow. it's my day off anyhow."

"nonsense! you should go down to medbay!"

"i'm alright, i promise."

"you get out here right this minute or i'll report you to medbay myself!"

"no!" there's a series of crashes and thumps, and then they open the door.

"oh, you look awful. come on, you really must need medbay, what if you're contagious." islith tries to grab them but they shy away.

"i'm not contagious, i promise."

"how can you possibly know that? what if you picked it up from a sample, or, or, garfon has been sick recently! humans can't survive cerian sicknesses-"

"i didn't catch something from garfon, islith," they sigh and open the door wider. "come in and let me explain."

"alright, but if i think you should go to medbay afterwards then i'm taking you there."

"sure, islith."

islith enters, notices the piles of clothes, rumpled bedsheets, the lights are off and the port window shut.

"what's wrong?"

they sigh again, "my body doesn't work like it's meant to, islith."

islith is wildly alarmed, "and you said there was no need for medbay?!? come with me right now and-"

"no! i can't, islith, you don't understand."

"then explain it to me."

"i've... always been this way, although it's gotten worse as i've gotten older. my body, it just isn't built quite right, there's something wrong with it that makes it not work properly and hurt often."

"you're right, i don't understand. why can't you go to medbay?"

"i'd... be thrown off the ship."

"what?!?"

and so they tell islith a story about a young child whose dream was to touch the stars.

"and now, it's too late. i'd get in huge trouble for lying to the government, especially for so long."

"well- but- but humans are so resilient! you hear all the stories!"

"not every human is the same, islith. some of us are born disabled, and some of us get hurt in accidents, just like any other species."

"well, then, well there must be something we can do?"

they look up in shock, "we?"

"of course we, you ridiculous creature," islith said with a fond sigh. "you didn't think i'd leave you to suffer, would you?"

"but, you could get in so much trouble!"

"that's alright, i don't mind. what else are friends for? and, anyway, we don't have to tell your government, we can tell mine."

"but i'll-"

"we don't have any rules like that. any of us who are disabled can still manage in space just fine with the right support, and i bet you could too."

"i- islith- i don't-"

"don't worry, we'll all back you when it comes down to it. you're out teammate, our family. no one on this ship wants to watch you leave because of something you can't control. now come on, let's talk to glidlep in medical, she'll understand."

and for years, things continued on that way, until eventually it was an open secret that the human with the exosuit was disabled and not technically allowed onboard.

and down the line, when nasa found out and was furious, the entire ship and more stood by their side.

#anyway i need to go cry now #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #disabled #disability #disability in space #chronic pain #chronic illness #chronically ill #joint pain

[thebeegalaxy]

idk this has just been playing in my head all morning, if someone wants to add on or write an actual story, go for it. id love to read it!!

been binging 'humans are space orcs/space australian's' recently and its got me thinking

what if humans get on board with and see aliens and the aliens aren't surprised by our looks because were so different, but instead surprised by our looks because theres another alien species that looks just like us.

and obviously, being humans, we ask to meet this species. everyone is excited for this interaction, no one thinks much of it really; outside of the obvious shock that we have a look alike.

the humans get on board and make this long journey on the alien's ships (the humans ships wouldn't last this adventure, being fueled by EXPLOSIONS that don't take us near far enough.

obviously there are adventures, surprises, and learning while onboard. we are still different from the aliens after all- in fact maybe they expect us to act like this other species and we don't, at all.

eventually though, we make it to this planet with the look alikes. we go down to meet them, and every human who has these aliens in sight freezes with an eery, unshakeable, visceral feeling. the uncanny valley. except its like, ten times stronger than its usually ever felt.

the humans try their hardest not to show it, many of them looking for signs that they will be murdered on the spot. others don't even leave the ship, they couldn't possibly. not with this feeling of doom, of inexplicable, unexplainable terror.

many aliens are confused, wondering why the humans are acting so differently, is this how they greet humans on earth possibly? other aliens cant notice a difference at all. our faces and body language don't make sense to them.

this uncanny feeling eventually leads to some sort of chaos though, whether it be fighting, retreating, or even pissing their pants. the humans cant stay very long.

~ Void ~

#humans are space australians #humans are space orcs #uncanny valley #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #humans are strange

[callsign-relic]

This idea has been my brainrot for months! If you've ever been on reddit, or tiktok lately you might have seen a funny subreddit titled "humans are space orcs". Well I fell inlove with that headcannon, so I wanted to put in the request for poly ratchet and drift with a human reader, reader had stowawayed on the lostlight and was lucky enough that the ship was being supplied oxygen, with occasional stops giving the chance for reader to go out and grab some supplies.

Long story short reader ends up getting caught in the medbay, battered and bruised, and gets stuck in a staring contest with ratchet, who is bewildered.

(I also find the comparison of cybertronians being possible scared of humans, like a elephant is of mice)

And my first request after my little hiatus! I apologize for the wait :) This was a fun idea to work with! This description matched the First Contact AU pretty perfectly so this accidentally became a First Contact fic, sorry if that’s not what you were looking for HAHA. Still though, i hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: SFW, GN!Human!Reader, First Contact AU

“And how did you say you found this creature, again?”

“By sheer coincidence! I was gathering some extra supplies from the crates in the back of the medbay, only to push a box aside and find… this.”

You lay flat against your elbows in the palm of a bright red servo, eyes darting frantically between the two titans above you as they conversed in an exchange of vowels and consonants you couldn’t comprehend. The two aliens were similar in color, yet couldn’t look more different— as if they were opposites, yet complemented one another all the same.

The bot that held you was square in his frame, his default expression a discontented scowl. From the platform of his palm, you could see the aged paint of his plating, full of dents and scratches galore. On the hand beneath you, specifically, you could see the chips of paint around each of his joints. Near-imperceptible to a being of his scale, certainly, but you could see the little splotches of blue peeking out from constant use.

The mech beside him was a completely different story, however. Rather than the square, boxy shape of his companion— this one was decorated with sharp angles. His color palette was like the other’s but reversed, more white with accents of bright red. Despite his triangular appearance, he gazed at you in Ratchet’s palm curiously— while Ratchet appeared more skeptical than anything.

“Have you ever seen a being such as this?” Wondered Drift aloud.

“Not in my years, no,” Ratchet replies with a shake of his head.

Wordlessly, Drift offers up both of his hands cupped before you. You pull back, head flicking between Drift’s face and his offered hands, grimacing.

Despite the language barrier, you know the sound of a scoff when you hear it, and as it echoes out from above you you can feel the platform of Ratchet’s palm start to tilt out from beneath you. You can do little to grab on— the ridges of his joints weren’t wide enough for you to cling to, so you succumb to your fate and tumble down into the samurai’s awaiting servos.

“Ratchet!” Drift scolds, “You could’ve handled them a little nicer.”

“C’mon, I wasn’t going to wait all day for it to hop off,” the medic grumbles. “Plus, it’s an organic. The texture was… off-putting.”

As if to prove his hypothesis, Ratchet reaches out a large digit and pokes at your stomach. In your injured state, you let out a wheeze, and Drift is quick to pull his hands closer towards him and away from his conjux.

“Did you hear that?” He asks, not really expecting an answer. “They almost sounded injured, poor thing.”

“Can I take a look?” Ratchet hums, and the white mech stares at him suspiciously for a moment. The older bot lets out another scoff, “I won’t handle them roughly, I promise.”

Satisfied, Drift nods, and slowly lowers his hands from his chassis to present you forwards. You were holding your stomach now, curled inwards in a fetal position, but even so, one could easily tell you were covered in marks and bruises all over your little form.

Again, Ratchet hums. “Let’s take them to the main medbay, see if our scanners can pick up anything.” As the medic concedes, a smile spreads wide across Drift’s faceplate, and Ratchet has to stuff down the urge to grin himself at seeing him so excited. He occupies himself by starting towards the main scanner, activating it and preparing any systems they may have needed. “With any luck, we can figure out just what this creature is.”

Drift starts to make his way over to the scanner as well, cradling you gently between his two hands. He lifts you up to his face, and though you scoot back up away from it, something about his innocent smile seems… endearing, to you.

“Hear that, little one? We’re going to get you all fixed up in no time.”

#relic writes #Transformers #reader insert #Transformers x reader #mtmte Ratchet #MTMTE Ratchet x reader #ratchet x reader #MTMTE drift #Transformers drift #drift x reader #mtmte #more than meets the eye #MTMTE x reader #Transformers mtmte #lost light #Transformers lost light #lost light x reader #maccadam #maccadams

[occasionally-good-ideas]

Ya know the Phandom has a distinct LACK of the ‘humans are space orcs’ concept and just- COME ON! Give me human danny IN SPACE!!! Y’all like ghosts to much to abandon it and just chuck your characters into whatever storyline you want??? ALIEN GHOSTS!!!

Yo Danny Fenton he was just fourteen, when his parents built a Very Strange Machine, it was designed to view a World Unseen. When it didn’t work his folks, they just quit! Then danny took a look inside of it, there was a Great Big Flash! Everything just CHANGED! HE GOT TELEPORTED ONTO AN ALIEN SPACECRAFT!!!!

The aliens are fuckin SCRAMBLING to figure out What The FUCK this bipedal, sassy, stressed out little guy is and HOW THE HELL IT GOT ONBORD?!??

Danny meanwhile has gone feral mode and is running around flipping furniture trying to get away from the ‘probably ghost monsters’ and ends up hiding in an air vent until the Aliens lure him out with food

They have nothing to translate each other’s languages so they communicate with tones, expressions and body language until they can teach Danny Common (a language taught in all schools so This doesn’t happen)

Now danny has alien friends and together they have to journey to Earth to get him home!!

What adventures will they have??? What cultural differences will we encounter?????? The silly misunderstandings?????? What’s the crew like?? Are they space pirates??? Outlaws?? Otherwise on the run from the Space Feds?????

It can be a crossover!!! Sleepy Bois INC enjoyers I know you have a good chunk of stories!!! And I know y’all like dcxdp you think you can make the BATFAM ALIENS??? I think you could

#humans are space orcs #danny phantom #feral danny fenton #I want to put him in space SO BAD #hey dream SMP #the crew can be the Sleepy Bois #if you write something for this i will love you forever. #the potential shenanigans #writing prompt #dc x dp

[antimony-medusa]

Is that— bells ringing? Keyboards clacking? The sound of two thousand stressed writers pancing furiously about the floor? Ah yes, Yuletide.

Hello. MCYTblr. I am back again.

You are looking fine today as we move towards the end of the year. Is that a new cologne you're trying? New shirt? New glasses? It's working for you. How have I been? Well.

Well.

*I smack the wall, curtains spring aside, revealing my flip chart presentation that I've had lying in wait*

It is time for me to talk to you about Yuletide again. I was here earlier during tag nominations, but it's sign-up time, and I want to make sure everybody has a change to participate in this if they want to.

What's Yuletide?

Yuletide is an annual mega-exchange for small and rare fandoms. It runs in the close of the year, with a 1000 word minimum for gifts, with gifts revealed anonymously on the 25th of December and de-anoned on the 1st of January. It is easily the biggest exchange in multi-fandom-exchange-world, and last year more than 1,350 people signed up.

Why does everyone sign up?

Well, it's tradition, for one. There are a lot of people that only do Yuletide as their big exchange every year. It's a big holiday spectacle, it's really fun to see it operate and see pinch hits come out and get nabbed in minutes, and people kind of put on their holiday outfits and turn out for it.

For another thing, if you are in a small fandom, it's the one exchange where you can actually have a shot of getting a gift for an obscure manga fandom, or an out-of-print book, or a tv show from the eighties. If your fandom has five people in it, the odds are higher than average that two of them are signing up for this exchange, and hey presto, suddenly you're matchable in your fandom for an obscure podcast.

For another, and this is the biggie, the fact that this is an exchange for small and rare fandoms has led to a certain tradition and vibe for the fandoms that people nominate. People bring their most obscure and fun ideas, going, "hehehehe wouldn't it be fun if someone wrote a story about this", and into the tag set it goes. There is SUCH a spectrum of fandoms in the tag set.

This year there are 4,263 fandoms and 16,735 characters in the tag set. Let me just skim through and look at some of them.

There are commercials, web sketches, art pieces, songs, music videos, board games, podcasts, a dizzying assortment of anthropomorphising different places, items, and ideas, and RPF from a marvelous variety of historical periods (so, y'know, historical fiction if it was published professionally). There are people who nominated tik tok sketches. Twitter threads. A bridge. Book binding techniques. You ever wanted to write a romance between Knitting and Crochet? That's in the tag set, and someone wants to prompt you to do that. Happy Yuletide.

So if you are at all the sort of person who likes a prompt challenge, BOY is this one just a MARVELOUS one. I know I personally am going to be signing up for Humans are Space Orcs (tumblr post) and Fandom Exchanges (Anthropomorphic) amid my more traditional fandoms.

And as for my more traditional fandoms, and the reason why this post has the tags it does (I would get to it eventually)— there is a lot of MCYT in the tag set! I put out a post saying GUYS, the smaller fandoms might apply for this, and BOY did people show up for it. I scanned through it, and the MCYT (and adjacent) that made it in is:

Karmaland SMP

Legacy SMP

Lifesteal SMP

Moonlight SMP

New Life SMP

Outsiders SMP

Rats SMP

SMPEarth

SMPLive

Witchcraft SMP

Pirates SMP

Mianite

Slimecicle Cinematic Universe

SBI Rust

Generation Loss

You could make an entire sign up, 3 minimum requests and 4 minimum requests, and only select MCYT fandoms. The wild thing is that you can only select a max of 10 fandoms to offer, so you actually couldn't offer all of the MCYT. ZombieCleo Witchraft SMP is in. Tommyinnit SMPEarth. Clownpierce Lifesteal. Tubbo SBI Rust. Oli Rats SMP. A wealth of options for the block folks.

So come, join me! What's that? You say this sounds excellent, you're in? You want to know how to sign up? Well this post is already long enough so I'm putting the rest below a cut.

You sign up on the collection here, using fandoms listed in the tagset here. Before you do so though, I'd recommend you check out the blog, especially their "how to sign up" post here, because even if you're used to exchanges, the way Yuletide works is a little bit different. Let me do a quick breakdown here.

Requests

# of Fandoms

You have to select a minimum of 3 fandoms that you are Requesting (a gift that you want made for you), up to a maximum of 6 fandoms. Each fandom has to be unique. For each fandom, you can request between 0 to 4 characters in that fandom, and 0 means "literally you can hit me with anybody", and the up-to-4 characters are the people you definately want to show up in the fic.

AND MATCHING

This is one of the things that Yuletide does differently, because most fandom exchanges do "or" matching, where they match you on either characer A OR character B, (maybe you only offered character B) and you can pick among any of the selected characters on the person's request to write for. Because Yuletide does AND matching, you will only be matched if you offered every single one of the characters the person has selected, and then you get to write for every single one they have listed in their fandom, unless they say differently in their letter. If they requested character A and Character B, you get to deliver a gift that includes them both, according to the rules.

Bu like, in practice, a lot of people are a bit more like "you can pick only one of these guys if you'd like", because that is how everyone is used to things running in most other exchanges, plus people don't want to be too picky, so you can specify in your letter if you definately 100% want characters A, B, and C, or if you're fine with just A, or just A and C, or whatever constellation of characters you're chill with.

This year they have added optional freeform tags you will click on, that will specify either A) use every single one of these guys I selected. B) I have specified in my letter which guys I need for sure and which ones you can swap, C) Dealer's Choice Of Guys Go Crazy.

DNW and Optional Details

Yuletide is an "Optional Details Are Optional" (ODAO) exchange, so technically you could request (or receive) an offer that just has the characters and then you get to go absolutely buckwild for the two month writing period. Most people, however, do not want to do that, so that is where you'll put in Do Not Wants (anything that would ruin the gift for you, from major archive warnings to kinks that you don't vibe with to headcanons you loathe), and some prompts and/or likes for your person to jump off of.

DNWs absolutely must be abided by, and breaking a person's DNW is grounds for getting turfed from the exchange. Following a person's prompts or lists of likes is technically optional, but definately best practice, and y'know, part of the whole spirit of the exchange. Most people are doing their best to adhere to both the DNW and the Optional Details when they do their gift.

You can just format your DNW and Optional Details on the Ao3 signup page (easy, fast), or you can link them offsite in a letter (fancy, you can do formatting, people do them in google docs or dreamwidth pages (the traditional and more accessible option)). There's a tradition of people posting their letter links here, so that people can get an idea for what sort of prompts and signups people are offering, and make sure they're matchable to people with especially fun ideas. Note: you do have to duplicate the data if you're doing a letter, cause if you put your DNW in your letter but NOT in your Ao3, the mods won't enforce it.

And while we're here, that last link is to a community blog that includes a place where you can promo your fandoms to lure people into signing up for your guys, or participate in mini-challenges within yuletide for people who specificially want poly relationships (Three Doves Challenge), or characters of colour (Chromatic Yuletide), or horror/darkfic (Crueltide), or smut (Yuleporn), or art (Wrapping Paper), or even more. There's even a poetry challenge!

Offers

# of Fandoms

You have to sign up with a minimum of 4 fandoms, to a maximum of 10, for fandoms you are Offering (a gift you are willing to make). You must offer at least 2 characters for each fandom, to a maximum of 20— but there's also an "any" tick box if you want to go full "hit me, I like a challenge" and you'll write anything (in the tag set) within a fandom. Each of your fandoms must be unique.

Writing Period:

Signups are open through the 21st, with assignments out by the 23rd, and then you have until the 18th of December to deliver your gift.

Important Notes

You must be 18 or over to participate in Yuletide (because you might be matched with someone who requests smut), and signups close on 9pm UTC on Saturday, 21 October.

There's a known issue where the safari browser isn't letting people sign up properly, (when you get an exchange this big sometimes things break), so they say to either sign up on mobile or use a different browser. So that will be fun for me.

--

And that's it! Yuletide! Just under a week left to sign up, and 351 people have signed up as I write this letter at 1:30am. I just refreshed it and now it's 352. You can sign up on the Ao3 page here!

JOIN ME EXCHANGES SUCH FUN LETS GO.

#long post #mcyt #mcytblr #karmaland #legacy smp #lifesteal smp #moonlight smp #new life smp #outsiders smp #sqeakblr #smpearth #smplive #wcsmp #scurvyblr #mianite #scu #sbi rust #generation loss #fandom exchange #slimecicle cinematic universe

[foxigemini]

Bound For Life - Chapter 2

Pairing: OC!Orc x Human Female Reader

Story summary: Your life is nothing exciting. Until one day when you encounter a creature in the forest and your life is changed forever.

Chapter summary: A week has passed since you met Yolmar, the days blurring into one, euphoric bliss of pleasure.

Chapter warnings: Nsfw, Smut.

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Yolmar would fuck you several times a day, leaving you in a pure state of satisfaction and exhaustion, despite the soreness between your legs. Even now, as the morning sun peeked through the curtains and you woke up by Yolmar pushing into your sore sex, you felt nothing but sheer pleasure despite the burning sensation as he first entered you. It quickly subsided and was replaced by your wet arousal as Yolmar's fingers found your clit and rubbed circles onto it. Moaning, you pushed your ass back against his hips, meeting his more and more eager thrusts.

"Yolmar," you mewled quietly, earning a breathy growl from the massive orc as he emptied his seed inside your womb. You sighed and smiled as you leaned back into his broad chest. If you weren't pregnant by now, you never would be.

"We're leaving tomorrow."

"Huh?" You turned around and looked into his yellow eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I need to return to my clan and your place as my mate is by my side. You will come with me."

You blinked as you stared at him. Come with him? To live your life with a clan of orcs? To leave your current life behind you? Not that you had that much of a life anyway. Six days ago, you had told the manager of the Inn that you were sick and you hadn't heard from him since then. So, you really didn't have anyone that would miss you...

"Will they accept me? As part of the clan?"

"You're my mate. They have no choice but accept you."

You swallowed hard and nodded.

"Don't worry, little human. I will never let anything happen to you," Yolmar mumbled and smiled softly as he pulled you closer to him, searching for your lips. You leaned in and met his lips with yours, your mouth fitting in the space between his tusks. His lips were rough against your softer ones. Your thoughts drifted away, reminiscing about the first time his lips and tongue were between your legs, and a bolt of arousal shot through your core. Yolmar groaned, his hand on your hip digging into your flesh.

"I can smell your arousal, little one," he said playfully. "What are you thinking about?"

"Your mouth between my legs," you said bashfully.

Yolmar chuckled softly and quickly dashed down between your legs, holding your ass in a firm grip as he licked up the slit of your pussy. You gasped and bucked your hips against his face as he lapped his tongue eagerly between your folds.

"Taste like heaven," he mumbled before taking you to paradise once more.

*

Yolmar steered the horse forward on the path leading out of the woods. You turned to look at your home for the last time as the cottage faded into the forest. Soon, it disappeared amongst the trees and you turned your head forward again, hugging Yolmar's broad frame closer and swallowed the nervous knot in your stomach as you and Yolmar began the long journey back to his clan.

You rode to nightfall until Yolmar found a cave where you could spend the night. Yolmar kept a watchful eye on you as the two of you gathered branches for the fire, scouting the area for wild animals that might attack. His eyes lingered on your small form as you bent down to pick up some branches from the ground, his dick twitching at the sight of your ass pushing up in the air. Yolmar growled as a whiff of your scent reached his nostrils. Fuck, you were like a drug to him, he couldn't get enough.

You gasped when you suddenly felt Yolmar lift your dress up over your hip, yelped when he pushed you forward and you stumbled down on your hands and knees. Another gasp left your lips when Yolmar tore your undergarments apart and pushed inside you in one, hard thrust. Yolmar was always protective over you, but when it came to sex, he truly became the monster he was. Yes, he always ensured your pleasure, but he didn't hold back for anything. And you loved it. Loved how he made your core flutter and your legs shake as he pounded your pussy.

*

You grimaced as you shifted your position behind Yolmar, cursed him for destroying your last pair of undergarments and you now had to walk around naked under the dress. Not that Yolmar cared. He only had a proud grin on his face when you smoothed the dress down your naked body and glared at him.

*

It took a week for you to arrive at the clan. Your heart hammered wildly as you entered the orc village, hugging Yolmar's waist tighter as the orcs filling the streets watched suspiciously as the two of you rode through the town.

You avoided looking directly at them, didn't want to risk angering them. Instead, you kept your gaze on Yolmar's muscular back and listened to the orcs quiet mumbles until Yolmar stopped in front of a large, impressive stone house in the center of the village. The top of the entrance was adorned with horns from some massive creatures belonging to this land.

Yolmar jumped off the horse and offered you his hand.

"Come. You will meet the clan leader."

You stared down at your beloved, your heart pounding nervously as you took his hand and jumped down. Clinging to his arm, you let him lead you inside the building. You had your gaze fixed on the stone floor and slightly hiding behind Yolmar, seeking the safety of his closeness as you entered the great hall of the building.

"Tarod. This is my mate. Y/n."

You heard the orc leader's snarl and instinctively stepped closer to Yolmar.

"A human?" Tarod's voice boomed through the room. "You couldn't find a suitable orc to breed?"

"Her scent reveals she's my true mate, Tarod."

Tarod let out another scornful snarl and you felt the contempt oozing from him fill the room, making the air thick to breathe. "Look at me, human."

Blinking your eyes, you felt like your heart would burst out of your chest as you lifted your head higher and higher. Your eyes widened when your gaze finally landed on the orc leader. Yolmar was huge, but Tarod was even taller and broader, the top of your head barely reaching his chest that was marker by a scar on his left pec. You lifted your gaze higher and met his gaze, feeling your body flush with heat at the intensity of the way he was looking at you. His eyes were different than Yolmar's. They were as blue as a cloud-free sky, piercing into your very soul. His head was bald, accentuation his pointy ears and the large tusks protruding from his bottom lips.

"Such a fragile, little thing. Are you sure she can take you, Yolmar?"

"She already has. Many times," Yolmar assured and his voice was filled with pride.

You blushed at Yolmar's words and lowered your gaze, couldn't believe he was saying such things in front of the other orc.

"Is that so?" Tarod placed a finger under your chin and lifted your head, forcing you to look at him. "Is this true, little lamb?"

Fluttering your eyes, you lowered your gaze once more and nodded.

"Speak, woman."

You flinched at his voice and swallowed hard. "Y-Yes."

Tarod growled and leaned down to your neck, inhaling your scent. You instinctively moved your head to the side and closed your eyes. His breath grazed your hair, sending a trail of goosebumps down your skin.

"You're right, Yolmar. Her scent is delicious," Tarod grunted and grabbed your hip, his calloused hand swallowing your entire waist. You jerked at the contact and stared up at Tarod, who only smirked back at you.

You saw Yolmar in the corner of your eyes, lunging forward with a guttural growl rolling off his lips. Tarod growled back at him, silencing the smaller orc with a glare. Yolmar took a step back and glared back at Tarod, the growl lowering to a low rumble in his chest. He knew he was no match for the bigger orc, and if he were dead, there would be no one to protect you. Tarod wasn't as gentle as he was, and Yolmar doubted Tarod would care much about your safety.

"Yolmar?" you whispered and flickered your eyes as you looked at him in confusion. His shoulders slumped down as he lowered his gaze to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. Your scent reveals you're his mate too. You belong to the both of us and he must mark you as his."

It felt like you'd been punched in the guts, like all air left your lungs as his words swirled in your head like a whirlwind.

"W-What?" You stared at Yolmar, hoping it was all a joke, but the sadness in his yellow eyes told you everything you needed to know. No, no, no...this couldn't be true...You turned your head back and stared up at Tarod who grinned down at you, showing off his large tusks, and the reality of it all finally hit you. This enormous creature would fuck you, mark you as his mate and there was no turning back, no escape. All you could do was submit and surrender to your fate.

#orc x reader #orc x human #oc x reader #monster x reader #monster x fem!reader #monster x you #monster x y/n #monster x human #orc x you #orc smut #orc fanfiction #monster smut #monster fanfic #monster fanfiction #monster fucking #monster fic #monster imagine #orcs

[graceofagodswrath]

Ok ok ok your "Humans of Transformers franchise are space orcs" rant is out of this world.

I detest with passion when humans are reduced to pets and plot devices when instead the story could be about two alien species finding one another equally amazing/terrifying for their own respective reasons.

Here is my question: do humans and Cybertronians see how eerily similar they are? They have love of music, familial relationships, similar urban infrastructure, societal structure, financial systems, competitive entertainment, organized societies and war, colonialism, recreational intercourse, marriage...

Not to mention, why was it never addressed how similar both species look: bipedal, waists, noses, cheekbones, 5 fingers, chins, facial expressions and sense of aesthetics and beauty? Sure, humans have hair but in rather strategic places.

Veins and wires, blood and energon, metal and flesh, nanobytes and blood cells, Sparks and brain impulses, sexual organs...

Imagine Autobots arrive on Earth for the first time expecting some primitive cave-dwellers, only to encounter a less advanced mini-version of Cybertronian cities (New York, Singapore, London, Rome, Tokyo, Rio, Dubai...) and societies running on scientific, artistic and philosophical development which has no right existing on the ruthless, all-organic planet such as Earth is. Societes run by creatures who 4.000.000 (the duration of their war) years ago were hanging from the trees btw.

Autobots would be terrified.

Lemme make sure this response saves this time, cause it took me a minute to answer cause my first deleted and I had so much written I got unbelievably angry and refused to even look at the tumblr app.

But here we are.

So, this is EXACTLY what I have been thinking about for who k owe how long. It’s also the intro to this wack as fuck universe idea I’ve had in my head a while, and have kinda hinted at in my other works, but I’ve never gone into detail about.

And I still won’t.

Anyways, yes. It’s crazy that we backlit humans so much when any other sentient species is about. Transformers, TMNT, etc (I’m on a one track mind, feel free to jot down any other fandoms I can’t think of). The main theme of these stories? HUMANS SUCK. And that is severely unfair. People want to cry about how much our generation doesn’t give a shit anymore. Have you SEEN the media we feed kids???

That’s why I live Humans are Space Orcs so much. It really puts into perspective how unique and batshit our species is.

So, onto the Transformers vs humans concepts. The ONLY reason (forgoing technoism and general hate towards organics) cybertronians don’t see humanity as an imminent threat, or one in general, is because of size. WE BE SMALL AF. Can’t blame them, I get it. We do the same. Insects? Fuck them mfs.

But have you seen a botfly or tick burrow into your skin? The infection that comes form that? Have you seen ants jump a small animal as a colony and absolutely shred it? Or a spider only biting you, and the horror the venom causes (recluses and huntsman’s specifically). We have a good fucking reason for disliking these mfs.

But transformers? These are organic experiences. Worst they go through are rust infections, spark death, the works. They are not at risk the same way we are. That is why they view organics as small and inconsequential. They have no idea how hard we fight to simply stay alive.

And now the similarities. It’s understandable that they wouldn’t immediately recognize the physical, cultural, and psychological similarities between our species. Transformers are an incredibly diverse race, like any other. But specifically in physical form. Your average cybertronian holds a similar appearance to your average human. We tend to have the same features, just with different names. Eyes, noses, faceplates, ears, two arms, two legs. Sure that’s average for them too. But they are unique because of the fact that they have two forms. Vehicle mode. Their mode decides what they’re second mode looks like, which can create extreme diversity is appearance. Small, large, many limbed or not.

So the immediate similarities probably wouldn’t jump out to them in an odd way. There’s also the idea that because they’re so spread out in the universe, they’ve seen other organic races that are also similar. Pairs of every body part could be the common denominator among species.

That goes culturally too. War, love, music, government, politics, it’s all a natural form of sentient evolution. Another common denominator. It’s how it’s done that makes it unique. And the similarities between human and cybertronian culture is uncomfortably familiar.

I think that’s why cybertronians are seen being closest with humans rather than other species in the shows and comics (obviously because the audience is human and they need relation to characters but shhhh forget that for a sec). This is where the theories start.

Let’s say cybertronians begin to recognize the weird similarities between our species. The really, really weird stuff. The itty bitty details. Like:

- how we also mainstream kissing on the lips as the top tier romantic gesture.

- use verbal tone and cues for our language.

- have intensely complicated interpersonal relationships in the exact same manner.

- suffer from extreme mental health issues like depression, anxiety, PTSD (I totally headcannon that forms of adhd, autism, and ocd exist in cybertronian society, have y’all not seen my boy rodimus prime??)

- will also destroy each other in the name of our gods, until we have a common enemy.

That’s just the basics I could come up with. The only time I actually saw a moment where a transformer genuinely take a moment to realize that humans can be a threat, was in transformers prime. Episode 6 of beast wars (I think, correct me if wrong), where Miko beats the ever loving fuck out of an insecticon (I think) and upon Megatron hearing this, just goes blank Kubrick stare for a hot second. Man had an ugly realization that did not fit in with anything he had experienced his whole life.

AND THEY NEVER FUCKING ADDRESSED IT EVER AGAIN. Sick of this shit. Could’ve had the most badass character development, where the humans actually proved useful and did something (it would have fit Milo’s character so perfectly too) and scared the utter shit out of the transformers. BUT NO. They continue to be annoying as fuck.

One thing I loved about TF Prime was that it canonically turned Unicron into Earth. And humans came from the earth. Which relates humans beings and cybertronians so hard. Cousins Fr. We are the cybertronian equivalent of organics, and transformers the inorganic equivalent of humans. The individuality, the chaos, the culture, it clicks. There is so much material to really go into it.

But they never do. Don’t get me wrong, I love Transformers lord and just discovering more without humans being involved. We’re just annoying af at this point. But there is so much u tapped potential in transformers actually taking the chance to LEARN about us. But we’re just friends (pets) to these mfs.

That’s why I love TF Earthspark so far. Transformers ingrained into human culture because they’re not from Cybertron, and cybertronians having to adapt to human culture because they have no where else to go. Granted, it’s a kids show. There’s only so much they can do. But I’m excited for where it’ll lead. It really shows how much of threat and ally humans are, and how we are just as diverse as cybertronians.

I need to write another fic about cybertronians meeting humans their size from our world tho. Need to continue my old piece. Would give me so much life. Y’all help motivate me, college draining my ass.

#shower thoughts #humans are crazy #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are deathworlders #humans are weird #Transformers #transformers prime #transformers earthspark #rant

[a-bag-of-issues-blog]

Language in a Space Age

I've been going down the "humans are Space Orcs" rabbithole again, and a lot of it felt unsatisfying to me, so I tried my hand at whipping up a story I liked.

---

It was four sols prior when the security contract with the mercenaries ended.

Three sols prior when the ship’s Captain had said Xe might know someone.

Two sols prior when we had landed on the sandy, hot planet.

And one sol prior when I had first seen a Human fight.

It was an underground fighting arena – almost literally, with only the very top of the domed structure rising out of the sand dune, its colored glass absorbing the worst of the radiation. The seating was arranged in the large, concentric rings common of many gathering places (and yet we still do not have a word in Common for it, is that not strange?), and they were packed with people and dust alike. Despite the obviously ill maintenance of the ventilation and heating, they were bearable, and I only had to remove a small amount of dust from my body coat as we ventured deeper inside.

“So, boss, who’s your mysterious benefactor?” Asked Asdelon as its left eye moved towards the Captain, the right one continuing to scan the crowd.

Our pilot was something of an outsider – from both its home culture and, perhaps, every culture it has ever entered. As a Khetansh, it was born an almost perfect clone of its progenitor, who was itself part of a set of almost perfect clones of their progenitor, like the rest of its species one way or another. And yet Asdelon has always described itself as different, in a way that the Common tongue can not express. There was a word for it, in its language – but it had never found the need to translate it, and I had never dared ask. It was one of the species that felt the need to stare at others’ eyes as it spoke, and while I would now trust it with my life, back then those large eyes and sharp teeth reminded me too much of the old cautionary stories my parents used to tell me.

Those eyes turned fully onto the Captain after some time of no response. While the scales on its face could move very little, its voice was higher and definitely sarcastic when it continued:

“Thanks for the info, boss, makes tracking this Iethid a lot easier.”

The Captain’s eyes swayed in time with his antennae, a sign of what I had begun to recognize as amusement.

“Oh, don’t scuff your scales now. I was just looking around.”

Captain Exlasl was a Xelthor, and a large one for Xirs age. Xirs outer skeleton was a slight blue and white, and Xe liked to brag that the brown stripped markings on Xirs abdomen were signs of great strength and wisdom in Xirs culture. As I did not – and do not – have much knowledge on Drugarian Xelthor culture, I never challenged Xir about that.

“And we could be helping you, if you were a little less mysterious about it.”

“Don’t worry, I think you’ll have your answer soon enough…” The translator trailed off as Xe reached up to adjust it with Xirs smaller hand, but Xirs eyes began turning towards the arena floor where the latest combatant (a Horenga, with a body coat almost identical to mine) had entered. Asdelon looked down at the combatant, and I could tell it was not impressed.

“Really? That one? I’ll give you that they’re probably a little faster than our Horenga here, but I can tell you right now they’re still more…how do you say…more words than action.”

“The Horenga has a name.” I reminded it. “And their name is Linome.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Its tongue flicked out to drag down its right eye (a method of self-cleaning that was also an expression of boredom, almost like how I and other Horengas clean our ears) and it shifted the weight on its legs. “Listen, if you’re out of ideas, then you could’ve just told us. No need to –”

The announcer’s voice called out, in a dialect of Common so blended with the local language that I could not understand a single word. A combatant walked out, and I have never felt such awe and dread so strong in a single moment before.

Humans are not rare. They are not the strongest species, or the largest species, or the toughest. But they are resilient, they are tenacious, and many are warriors.

This Human was small for her species – which meant her eyes were level with the middle of the ears of her opponent. Her skin had multiple marks on them, wounds healed from past battles in the raised and bumpy way Human skin heals, and her limbs were large and clearly muscled. Her clothes were loose and flowing, and her hands were wrapped – from the base of her digits up to the second joint of her arm. Her face, though, drew my attention.

Supposedly, Human faces change drastically as they emote – the movement of skin and muscles in the face being their primary form of expression. Since moving onto the sand, though, the Human’s face had changed as little as Asdelon’s had – even when they bowed to their opponent, even as they moved to opposite ends of the arena.

“Is that your secret weapon?” I still could not pick up on the inflections of Asdelon’s voice, but the way it moved closer to the arena showed it was interested in some way. Exlasl’s pincers clicked together quickly, amusedly – excitedly, even.

“You bet your behind it is. You’re about to meet the person that once tore off my big arm.”

That caught my attention – but the bell had already rung, and the combatants were running at each other face first already.

---

The event lasted almost an entire rotation, and afterwards we still could not immediately contact the Human, because she was still being treated for her injuries. She had promised to contact us on the next rotation, though, which was good because I needed the time to prepare myself.

The brutality and relentlessness of Humans were not exaggerated. When that poor Horenga struck the Human a over and over, she simply took the blows she could not avoid, and a single direct strike to their chest was enough to end the fight. When an Asdelon walked into the ring with her, she did not flinch as she stared down those large eyes, her face did not change as her skin became torn from claw and teeth. And when a Xelthor entered…

They say human hands were not born for fighting – they are dexterous, but with no more reinforcements than the rest of their body. Yet they taught themselves ways to fight with them anyways, and trained until their bones would break stone.

And on and on and on like that she went, battle after battle, until the rotation was done when her final opponent simply dropped from the exhaustion of so many previous battles. And we were to talk to that, because she was old friend of the Captain’s and “more than willing to be violent when necessary”.

I was scared. Terrified. Multiple levels of fear beyond that which the Common tongue could not fully describe. I was pacing the doorway in front of our rented resting place because I had rested and eaten multiple times during the rotation already and felt like I might be sick if I had done any more of either. I wanted to run, and – what? Feed the stereotype that Horenga were mostly weak cowards? Abandon the Captain and Asdelon, after all they’d done for me? But – but we were about to have a Human onboard! A fleshy, hairless, skin and bones death machine –

“Hello?”

The word was in Horengian (the global version of it, anyways) and while it was clear and understandable, it sounded…wrong. Like a machine had spoken it, except the voice was very clearly…

“Human?”

That was a rude way to address her, looking back on it. She did not mind though, instead only tilting her head slightly in a…shockingly familiar expression of confusion.

“Do you…prefer…the Common language?” Despite the pauses and hesitation and the accent (or, well, the complete absence of any accent), she was easily understandable. I was, of course, afraid for my very fragile life so I did not have an answer ready for her.

Luckily for me, it was at that moment that the Captain opened the door to investigate the noise. Xirs antennae rose fully up at the sight of the human, and her mouth curled upwards as she saw Xir (a human gesture of joy, the one that didn’t involve baring teeth).

Xir didn’t even turn on his translator, simply started clicking in his native Drugarian. And she answered back in kind, pulling her lips back and finally showing clear white teeth as she clicked back at him…somehow (Humans and their terrifyingly good mimicry.) The entire conversation afterwards happened entirely in Drugarian, and I wound up serving drinks for them almost out of an absence of other things to do.

The Human did not ever take off her coat – light brown, large, almost seeming to drag her down – and every time I turned my back to her, I could feel myself being watched. When the captain went to go fetch Asdelon, she turned and looked at me directly.

“You never answered my question, earlier.”

Cornered, instantly. Like a true predator.

“Well…I don’t mind whatever language you use, really. It’s not like I particularly like our global language.”

She moved her head up and down – nodding, a gesture of understanding in some cultures. “What’s your…original language, then?”

“Oh, no need to ask, it’s not like you need to learn it to really talk anyways if we’re going to be travelling together.” Deflect, quickly. “Why do you ask, anyways? The Common language was made for this situation, wasn’t it?”

The human tilted her head, again – the lack of moving ears removes much of the subtler indications in body language, so I wasn’t sure if she was just considering me or confused. She was staring at a point above my head, which – well, I appreciated, but still.

Eventually, when she spoke again, it was slow.

“The Common language…it is what we all have in common. The one through line to unite us disparate people. But it is not…comprehensive.”

She took off her coat, then – and I almost jumped when she let it drop onto the floor, its impact as heavy as if it was filled with sand.

“There are sandbags, in my coat.” Well, that explained it. “The gravity here…it is less than that of my home. Dirt, as we call it.”

Her lips curled up, briefly, at the name.

“The rotation cycle here is different as well. The people are of course different. Yet…when I see them…many are not from this world. Many do not need bags. They need other things. Things to maintain temperature, gravity…level of water.”

Her digits were moving, again, four of them thrumming a rhythm (humans sang, of course they did, anything with a voice like that could sing) as she tried to piece together her next words.

“The Common language is the thing we have in common. That we are people is another of those. But reducing so many people to only the things they have in common…it is like reducing a galaxy to a painting. Too much is lost in translation.”

There was a moment of silence. She was staring to a point to my right. I was looking just over her head.

“…we have a saying for that. In my language. Ylimuan Horenga, I mean. It…” I could not help but chitter a little at the irony. “It doesn’t translate very well.”

She tilted her head, a small amount to the other side. When her face changed this time, a little bit of teeth was showing, but she closed her lips almost immediately to hide it.

“Could you…teach it, to me?”

Excerpts from What Is Lost Between The Words by Linome Aiklion Prinou, translated into Earth English.

#text post #text #long reads #language #scifi #stories #writing #humans are space orcs

[skymagpie]

I recently read "The Last Guardian" and I am absolutely delighted by it, I feel like when it comes to Khadgar content this is a huge "must read" because the whole book is just so good-natured despite the fact that this sets off a never-ending series of deeply traumatizing events for Khadgar.

Here's some things that canonically happen in this book and that I just found so endearing or fun:

The Kirin Tor literally sends Khadgar off to Medivh because Khadgar kept wandering the halls of the Violet Citadel at night and being so nosy that he caught his professors on drinking binges, sleeping with students or trying to summon demons. Medivh knows that they sent him here hoping he dies because he knows too much.

Khadgar rambling and babbling and being delightfully awkward

Khadgar forgets how to talk when he meets Medivh and makes some strange sound to which Medivh asks Moroes if "the lad is ill."

Medivh having scheduled times for breakfast, lunch and dinner and keeping to them. Also he and Khadgar are just eating porridge with sausages for breakfast every day when he is around.

Khadgar having his inscription set with him that he carries all neatly packaged and tidied up, even though he is this scruffy dirty looking teen boy.

Lothar and Medivh both have this dad relationship with Khadgar, but Lothar is like the cool supportive dad who would take you to a soccer game and would support you at pride with the wrong flag.

During this particularly deep conversation about time and space, Medivh encourages Khadgar to have a bit of wine, Khadgar gets a little tipsy and then Medivh encourages Khadgar to live a little and try to levitate e mug with his magic even though he has been drinking - naturally it ends with Khadgar cleaning the floor afterwards.

When Medivh falls into a coma after their demon encounter at Stormwind, he entrusts Khadgar with handling his mail and Khadgar spends most of his free time sitting next to Medivh's bed and reading him the mail - especially the funny parts.

In the same situation when Medivh wakes up, he sees the startled Khadgar on the floor (after a vision of Sargeras) and softly asks him why he didn't ask Moroes to set up a bed for him there if he wanted to stay in his room.

Khadgar goes very quickly from "Guardian! There is an ORC in the tower!!!" to "Garona is my friend :)"

Khadgar and Garona spend a lot of time rebuilding the library after Garon thrashes the place in order to save Khadgar's life. They make a makeshift woodwork station in the stables outside Karazhan.

Khadgar has like a lowkey puppy crush on Garona and this is actually innocently cute.

Khadgar and Garona on the road when they flee from Medivh is such a nice sequence because they protect each other (from the orcs and humans who would hurt the other one) and also about the fact that they feel betrayed by Medivh. Also Khadgar just wants her to like and trust him 😭

Lothar gets Garona to wear the Stormwind armor by telling her that it matches her eyes and that Khadgar will wear it - and then Khadgar also tells her it matches her eyes and she looks good in it. Lothar using elementary school level tactics to get them to wear the Stormwind armor is so funny.

I just feel like this book was really fun and the pacing of the story was great between building up Medivh as an antagonist who genuinely cared for Khadgar, solving the murder-mystery around him and had the right amount of just daily domestic stuff between Khadgar and him and Khadgar and Garona. Not to mention the excellent parallels between Medivh losing his youth and waking up as an old man and Khadgar losing his youth while also going through what is a very sad coming of age story for him.

#world of warcraft #khadgar #medivh #the last guardian #garona halforcen #the warcraft film really threw the ball here with their adaptation bc they took out all that made this part of the lore so heartfelt #like these chars care so much for each other and none of that made it in the warcraft film #also a lot was stolen from khadgar and given to lothar and medivh like his plot with garona is SO good #also bisexual khadgar is real btw my uncle works at blizzard

[boombox-fuckboy]

Hey. Could you rec any podcasts with sapphic couples as their mains? Or a sapphic story. And so on. I only really know about where the stars fell and Alice isn't dead.

You're off to a strong start. Here's 20, there's more out there, but I tried to pick a variety. I'm going to put a ★ next to the ones I think will fit best, but they're all good.

Arden: (Fictional "True Crime", Investigative, Comedy). On the 25th of December, 2007, heiress and young actress Julie Capsom crashed her car into a tree and fled into a nearby forest clearing, leaving a trail that seemingly vanished into thin air, and a dismembered torso in the trunk. A decade later, Bea, the first reporter on the scene, and Brenda, a detective on the case, are hosting a true crime podcast about it, and neither is remotely impressed with what the other has to say. Arden is also a retelling of various Shakespeare plays.

The Author's Anathema: (Horror) Looking for some extra cash, and with some help from her girlfriend Eleanor, college student Natalie takes a small job to narrate an audiobook for a reclusive anonymous author. The book being a horror wouldn't be such a bother, but the stories within are... Familiar. Too familar.

The Beacon: (Urban Fantasy) Bee is a perpetually anxious university student who discovers she has the ability to create fire, and decides to start a podcast to find others like herself. She quickly discovers she's not alone, but a series of bizzare animal attacks suggest superpowered freshers are far from the only strange thing on campus.

The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio: (Weird Fiction, Horror, Sci-Fi) On day one of a new job at the Department of Variance, in the middle of her workplace orientation, Jasmine's new workplace goes into lockdown. Guided via walkie-talkie by Scarlet, an experienced security officer, Jasmine must make her way down 20-odd shifting floors of strange entities and experiments. Ideally without becoming one of them. As a disclaimer, this one is the only addition to this list that isn't actively romantic yet, however there are canonically sapphic characters, and I am fairly confident it's headed that way.

★ Elixir: (Urban Fantasy, Romance) Set in a fantasy world's equivalent of the american prohibition, lawmakers daughter Elsie approaches someone unexpected in search of her missing sister: Vera, an alchemist and propriator of the local now-elicit hush bar.

The Far Meridian: (Magical Realism) An agorophobic young woman wakes up to discover her lighthouse home has moved overnight. It quickly becomes clear this isn't a once-off, and she decides to use this as an opportunity to search for her missing brother, having some strange encounters along the way.

Interference: (Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Romance) Jacq is a D&D podcaster. Geneva is an orc scientist studying ancient human ruins the next world over. What happens when these women from different realities begin picking up each other's broadcasts?

Khôra Podcast: (Sci-Fi) Somewhere between adapted from and inspired by various greek myths, Khôra follows four women who deserved better (Atalanta, Echo, Medea, and Medusa) on a grand space adventure to find the golden fleece while keeping out of the reach of the olympians who own and run the galaxy.

★ Mabel: (Mystery, Supernatural, Horror, Romance). The live-in carer of a dying elderly woman attempts to contact her granddaughter, with little success. The contents of voicemails only get stranger, and what starts as a subtley creepy mystery-horror develops to poetic lesbian fae body-horror.

★ Midnight Radio: (Light Supernatural, Romance). Sybil McIntyre, host of the ever-popular 1950's nightly radio hour, begins exchanging letters with an old fan who has reluctantly returned to visit Sybil's beloved town.

Mina's Story: (Sci-Fi, Romance Elements) Still dealing with a major loss in her family, a young woman volunteers for a long-term cryonics project. The episodes are her audio logs after waking up each time, always the same place but centuries after she went to sleep. A story about grief, change, and the intersection of past and future.

Mirrors: (Sci-fi, Mystery, Supernatural). The audio journal of three women from different periods (past, present, and future) who seem to share little in common bar the strange inhuman, ghostly figures they have started seeing.

Night Life: (Supernatural, Noir) Utterly wacky one-episode story (more of a short audio movie) about an ex-vampire hunter turned private eye who finds herself dealing with the shenanigans of mafia and vampires in the wake of an upcoming mayoral election. Find it on the feed for The Lightning Bottler.

The Night Post: (Supernatural, Mystery). The conscripted couriers of Gilt City are both respected and shunned, integral to the city's function, but inexplicably tied to the supernatural. It's not something they like to talk about. When his husband goes missing on the job, Milo is called to take over. Clementine took over from her father a long time ago, yet recently someone else with her face has been delivering her own unsent letters. Val's not going to discuss how she ended up there, but she will absolutely open people's mail (filled with their own supernatural tales) to read aloud.

Palimpsest, Season 2: (Horror, Romance, Fantasy Elements). Set in the 1800s, a young woman becomes the maid to a supposed fairy noblewoman, who is being kept as one of many "denizens", living curiousities, in a large house. Each season is a different story, this is Season 2.

★ The Pasithea Powder: (Sci-Fi, Thriller?) The last major interplanetary war was full of atrocities, but none more infamous then the creation of Pasithea Powder, a memory altering drug which was used to horrible effect and landed it's entire team of creators in prison. So when decorated war hero Captain Sophie Green sees one of them wandering free, worlds away from his prison, she gets in touch with a very old, estranged friend: one Dr. Jane Gonzalez, who's behind bars for the very same reason.

Starship Q Star: (Sci-Fi, Comedy) The small crew of a tone-deaf space agency's attempt at a PR mission wake up at Mars to discover that they - and the one botanist abandoned on Mars base - are now the last surviving members of humanity. Co-captains and ex-girlfriends Aurelia and Sim must now dedicate themselves to protecting their crew and finding a new home, but they're rarely on the same page about how best to do it.

★ The Strange Case of Starship Iris: (Sci-Fi) When the shuttle carrying the crew of scientific research ship Iris explodes, Violet Liu finds herself stranded in space, the last survivor with no way out. Until her emergency broadcast is picked up by a passing ship. But the crew aren't who they seem to be, there's more going on here than anyone knows yet, and Violet must decide who she can really trust.

Unwell: (Supernatural). Lily Harper revisits her supposedly haunted childhood home to help take care of her aging mother. The house is weird, sure, but there's something far stranger haunting the town of Mount Absolm than simply ghosts.

Weaver: (Supernatural, Romance Elements). The musings of the entity within the old house about the girl she fell in love with (the only thing she can remember), and her two new coinhabitants, who do not yet know she exists.

#audio drama #█████ posts #podcast #recommendations #arden #the beacon #the author's anathema #the department of variance of somewhere ohio #elixir #the far meridian #interference #khôra podcast #mabel #midnight radio #mina's story #mirrors #night life #the night post #palimpsest #the pasithea powder #starship q star #the strange case of starship iris #unwell #weaver