#humans as aliens

[not-a-newt]

Anyways, here's an excerpt (Mass Effect Initiation) on the way that turian, asari, and krogan crowds move as opposed to humans

[elliejaybird]

Colored Pencil Aleims

I don’t have strict design rules in mind for what Sruki look like yet.

[crazythatcounts]

Flark wasn’t exactly sure what to make of the situation, to be honest.

All of this was done on sort of a lark, to be fair to him, so his preparation had been fairly minimal. He’d been bored with the usual grind - that was the start of it. Working in the Intergalactic Department of Space Vehicle and Transportation was not exactly a pleasant job - most people thought the whole process of registering space fairing vehicles unpleasant, and Flark knew better than anyone that most of the regulations in place that people found abhorrent were in place due to a singular planet or underdeveloped species and hardly mattered. There were occasional planets that just needed a little extra protection, that was all, but that meant the rules surrounding them never came up for the usual Class One species he interacted with on the daily. It all made sense in the long run, but Flark could only explain that yes, he did have to have proof of solar emissions on all vehicles logged before he was allowed to issue renewals due to the fact that Space Lane RF5, which most people didn’t even use, went through the Quarx system and the Quarx system was naturally predisposed to solar flares, so many times before it became the worst part of his day. And like most of his coworkers, when he expressed that he was starting to burn out, it was suggested he find something fun to do and offered the usual Company Catalog of Recreational Activities.

Thinking back, he wasn’t really sure why he chose hunting as his sport de jour. His Uncle was a hunter, or at least had been last they’d seen each other, and maybe he’d just latched on to something familiar. Flark hadn’t see his uncle in roughly three-hundred years, which was a decent amount of time for his species, so he wasn’t even sure if his Uncle still went out. But it seemed better than solar wind rafting, or any of the other sporty sort of adventures the Company Catalog offered, free of charge. The benefit was that he didn’t have to pay a dime to go – it was “company enrichment”, meant to keep the overworked satiated in any way they could, but honestly, most people weren’t going to complain about free multi-week vacations – but the downside was that he didn’t actually get to pick his destination. Or his quarry. Or anything else that really mattered. He was just given a leaflet on the planet, a ticket for the spaceport, and a departure time.  

“Oh, Lou!” The woman next to him cried out, flailing her fleshy right appendage at the other near her. Flark watched, trying to figure out how things had gotten to where they were, but nothing really stood out. He had, when his trip started, dutifully boarded the Company Shuttle after doing his minimal research, and let himself get shipped off to, of all places, a little nowhere planet called Earth. Now, Flark was familiar with a lot of planets – he had to know the regulations for most of them, after all – but even he was a little lost when it came to Earth. What he did know was very little: Earth was a Class Four planet, meaning it was inhabited by sentient, and often violently reactive, beings, but those beings hadn’t achieved any meaningful spaceflight and didn’t look like they were going to do so any time soon. He’d seen the reports of their “moon landing”, which he honestly thought was kind of cute – they’d been so proud to step off their front porch, after all, but they clearly had no idea what was waiting for them past their own system – but he’d been warned that, cute though they may have seemed, there was something dangerous to them. Otherwise, however, the information was sparse, as most people didn’t visit. The stories he’d heard ranged from the weird to the downright terrifying, and a lot seemed entirely unbelievable – humans poison themselves for fun, he’d been told right before leaving, among other things. Humans live very short lives, and somehow drive to make them shorter by killing each other, another coworker had said. But nothing had prepared him for actually coming face to face with a human in the first place.

“Lou! Take a picture!” The woman – and he was fairly sure the human in front of him was a woman, though Flark wasn’t entirely positive; his species didn’t practice sexual dimorphism in any capacity, as most Class One species eschewed the idea of gender long before they’d reached multi-system spaceflight, and thus he was unpracticed in telling, but he heard the human next to her using the appropriate feminine pronouns and figured woman was close enough – intoned, her voice both a pleading yowl and a nearly feral hiss at the same time. The man – and again, Flark was out of practice, but he figured the attempt at machismo was a good marker – shook his head, lifting a proto-lens capture device up to his face and pressing a button, which clicked balefully at him. Flark had no idea if the device had even captured a good image, and honestly was a bit concerned that they weren’t concerned about the quality – his lens capture device, strapped to the “spectacles” he’d been told to disguise it under, showed him every image he wanted to take before he took it. He’d been told ahead of time that humans were borderline primitive, for being sentient, but he didn’t realize it was that bad.

“Hey,” The woman, who was short, squat, and looked maybe a bit too feral for Flark’s taste, turned to him. He’d done as advised and disguised himself; he was in a floral shirt with flowers he didn’t recognize, but thought might be poisonous, even thought he was assured they were customary clothing accessories, and a pair of leg covers that didn’t actually cover his entire legs called shorts, and he’d grabbed a visual-transfuser from the spaceport on his way out, which he was grateful for. His usual appearance was twice a human’s height and too fuzzy to explain, and he was warned explicitly on boarding that humans were hyper-reactive and would bite anyone that didn’t fit their worldview. He wasn’t sure how effective their bites were, considering their teeth were relatively round, but he also didn’t want to risk whatever diseases they might have carried. Besides that, regardless of his quarry, there were enough humans on the planet that attracting the attention of one’s ire was not necessarily advised. “You want us to take your picture, mister?” She asked, of him, and he stared, blankly, back at her, only half hearing.

He didn’t really know how to respond to her, especially because of the fact that the catalog said he would be hunting humans, not hunting with humans, and that left him reeling. But regulations had changed, and when he’d landed, the spaceport had explained that, due to the Sentience Act of Galactic Travel, any sentience still counted towards being a protected species. The Catalog was, unfortunately, outdated, but, he’d been told, he’d still get the hunting trip he wanted. He was, instead, to be saddled with a troupe of humans – a hunting club, they called themselves – that were experienced with the sport and would assist him in his vacation. They would provide the equipment and the quarry, and he had no worries.

He was still worried, however. There wasn’t much like being told the predator you’d psyched yourself up to shoot and then probably run screaming from was actually going to be the thing that handed you a weapon.

“Leave him alone, Mariam.” The man, likely called Lou, shook his head at Flark, the aggressive sneer on his face reminding Flark why humans had, at one point, been a good sport to hunt. He’d heard a lot of rumors that trying to kill one was nearly impossible if it didn’t want to die, and the way the man sneered at him had Flark believing that fact quickly enough, though the roundness of his face said maybe there were some humans that were exceptions and most were a bit easier to handle. “He’s one-a them spacepeople. He probably don’t know what a picture is.” The man rolled his eyes, clearly implying that Flark was the least sentient of the group, and Flark didn’t correct him. Better to be thought a fool than become a side show to someone who couldn’t even understand how to operate a Class 2 hyperlane bike. But, he thought, he might as well be friendly.

“It’s fine.” He said, his voice so soft compared to the grating yowl the others had. He was in a group of four, three men, or at least what he thought were men, and the one woman, all dressed like they were readying to go running through the woods like feral beasts, with clothes that blended into the surroundings and thick laced boots. They were in a primitive vehicle that they’d called a truck, which made Flark wince every time it sputtered. He could smell the particles it was releasing, and if he’d been brought the thing to clear it for travel, he would have suggested it needed to be scrapped on emissions alone. But he could see why they needed it – it was quick, and it handled the empty, yellow terrain around them like a champ. “My eyes are enough to observe, but I thank you for asking.” He tried a smile, which felt weird with his disguise. His mouth didn’t feel like it opened enough, or maybe he’d spread his lips too far, considering the look the woman gave him in response. Humans had such weird proportions, with tiny mouths and tiny eyes and tiny ears – no wonder they had a hard time leaving planet.

“You ever hunt a buffalo before?” The other man in the back of the truck asked, quietly. His voice was very different from the others, but Flark wasn’t surprised – one of the in-flight infographics on humans he’d seen was about the truly broad regionalism of their voices – though he liked how softly the other man talked. The third sat in the cab of the vehicle, occasionally pulling a very primitive communication device to his face and watching for something in the distance. Flark could tell he was the one trying to find these buffalo, though he wasn’t sure how. Lou chuckled.

“Third time. First time with th’missus, though.” He said, gesturing to the woman. Flark didn’t know what missus meant, but the woman’s happy smile told him it was a good thing, at least. “Loved the first two trips so much I couldn’t help but ask her t’come along. What about you, spaceman?” Lou turned, and Flark was caught off guard briefly at the question. He wasn’t from Earth, they were aware of this – opening their boarders to intergalactic travel was one of the tenants of protection, after all, so they all knew he was from another planet, just not the scale or scope – and he couldn’t tell if they thought he’d been before, or if they just assumed every planet had buffalo. Lou scoffed – clearly, the disguise didn’t hide facial expression and Flark had made some kind of face at the question. “You even know what a buffalo is?”

“Yes.” Flark said, his voice still so soft. He wasn’t sure how other humans dealt with their own grating rhythms, considering. But he’d grabbed a field guide and connected to the planet’s internet, slow though it was, when he’d arrived, and done a bit of research. “A bovid species of roughly 2 kinz, or 2,000 pounds, with up curved horns. Classified as an herbivore, meaning it consumes mostly native grass species, and travels in herds.” He shrugged. It was basic information, after all. “Most bovid species I’m familiar with are of the domestic variety.”

“Do not let that fool you.” The other man, nameless and quiet, didn’t have to speak up to cut Lou off – the man had an open mouth, ready to say something, but paused when the other spoke. “You look into the eyes of a buffalo and you will truly understand what it means to see death.” He said, and Lou chuckled.

“Second time out they killed a man.” Lou added, with the tone of someone trying to convey severity but far too hyped up about it to really get it across. “They call these things the black death. Deadlier than lions.” He nodded, sagely, and Flark didn’t respond, because honestly, he was starting to doubt the things he’d heard about humans in the first place. He’d heard them as voracious, predatory, vicious and instinctual, and he could see people being afraid at a glance, but the people in front of him were… pudgy, soft, and didn’t seem to have any natural instinct at hunting. The woman even jumped a little as the truck pulled to a halt, slowly crawling to a stop behind a shaded tree. In the distance, Flark could see the buffalo they’d heard so much about – hundreds of them. They bellowed and brayed and swatted flies and didn’t even seem to notice the truck at all. Lou grinned.

“Spaceman, you want the first crack?” He asked, offering the primitive weapon he’d been caressing the entire ride. It was a thing of wood and powder that Flark was almost a little afraid of, and he shook his head. He wasn’t about to touch a weapon he didn’t understand, not until he’d seen it fired. “Alright by me, then. Mariam?” He offered the rifle to his missus, who clapped her hands far too loudly. A buffalo turned its head, decided it didn’t care, and went back to eating, but something in Flark’s gut stirred. There was something about the easy way the buffalo ate that had him nervous, and he didn’t like it. Prey were supposed to be flighty around the things that killed them, after all.

“Alright.” The man in the back stood up, the entire truck rocking at his movement, helping Mariam out of the truck and onto the tawny grassland below them. The herd was large, but they were close to a small section that had broken off – a mother and a calf, likely, if Flark could tell by size – and the guide pointed Mariam at the set. “One shot, then back in the truck. If you miss, we’ll need to leave and reset.” He said, and she nodded, pressing the rifle to her shoulder. Flark could smell the acrid ozone of the gun long before it fired, the powder on the inside burning away at his nose as it sparked when she pulled the trigger.

Flark expected the shot to find its mark, and the buffalo to drop to its knees very quickly, because that’s how modern arms worked. The weapons he was familiar with burned holes in steel rated for spaceflight, and a living thing would have crumpled. And he heard the shot crack, and even saw the projectile – oh, it used actual projectiles, that was so old it was almost new again – break the thing’s dark skin and likely shatter its shoulder into a thousand splinters of bone. That was the true gruesome nature of guns like those, Flark knew, and why they were outlawed in most civil societies.

The buffalo looked up at them with fury, the pain slow to register but the sensation of disturbance instantaneous, and Flark realized that maybe he’d underestimated what he was hunting.

Mariam squealed, both in delight that she’d hit and some alarm that it wasn’t dead, the guide all but hauling her back into the truck by the arm, the vehicle already going. He was quick, and it was good that he was, because the buffalo bellowed in a way that struck fear into Flark’s heart and started at the car with its head down. It thundered, hooves kicking up clods of thick dirt, blood pouring down its shoulder, the smell of copper and ozone so thick Flark couldn’t tell how anyone else could stand it, and the truck squealed as it peeled away from the tree. For a moment, Flark thought it was over, breathing out in a sigh of relief that they’d outrun such a fierce beast.

Until he looked back and saw the buffalo, eyes bloodshot and full of pure rage, only an arm’s length away from the truck.

“Drive, man!” Lou was laughing, laughing, as the truck rumbled over empty terrain and bounced over rocks and splashed through puddles, the buffalo still in fury filled pursuit. They hit full speed, a speed Flark wasn’t even sure the truck was supposed to be capable of, his spectacles hardly hanging onto his head, the riders bouncing around in the back like untethered crates in a particularly twisty hyper-lane. He could feel the speed against his face, his knuckles white on the seat just trying to hold on. Yet nothing, nothing deterred the buffalo, the pain in its shoulder the only driving force behind its eyes as it raced far faster than Flark thought possible towards them. The guide was shouting in a language Flark hadn’t studied up on, the driver weaving between trees at top speed, and yet Lou was still laughing, holding on to one of the truck’s back supports and whooping like he was in some kind of race and he was winning.

He didn’t stop laughing, even as Flark realized with dawning horror that if it was, in fact, a race, they weren’t winning anymore.

Flark felt the buffalo catch the truck’s fender with a horn. He felt it lift, like in slow motion, and he felt it start to roll. It wasn’t a closed back, just a canopy to keep the sun out and a set of poles to keep that upright, and he watched with horror as the whole thing rolled and started to crumple. And then it was all dark, just for a moment, the sound of squealing metal and thundering steel and then he was on the ground.

He pushed himself to his feet once he came back around, doing a quick physical check to make sure he was entirely there. Even though he was disguised, he could still feel all of his limbs, so he did a once over based on what he felt. All of his arms? Check, though one hurt badly, like he broke it. Both legs? Also there, though his ankle throbbed painfully. Tail? He couldn’t see it, but he felt it swish, and he’d had it tucked against his better ankle well enough that it seemed alright. He breathed out, turning to first look to his right – the truck was on its head, wheels spinning, Lou on the ground next to it and Mariam a ways away, the driver pulling himself out of the cab and the guide giving him a hand – before looking left, straight into the eyes of the buffalo.

It looked at him, and it huffed. Snot dripped from its wet nose, its eyes red with blood and hatred. Flark stood there, cradling an arm no one could see to his chest, trying not to show it fear in return, because it was clearly dying and it clearly did not care. But it huffed again, and having decided it had been paid what it felt it was owed, turned, waddling slowly back to where its children had been, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. Flark exhaled, falling back to sit down on the ground as the adrenaline left him.

“Whoo!” The cry pulled him from the sudden exhaustion, as Lou reappeared at his side. The man was sporting a spatter of blood on his head, clearly having knocked it hard, and of all things, a grin on his face. “That was fun! They don’t usually catch the truck.” He laughed, and Flark looked at him like he’d lost a head.

“Fun?” He asked, almost incredulously, and Lou snorted, not unlike the buffalo. “Did we not just nearly die?”

“Yeah, but it ain’t fun if it ain’t a risk.” Lou replied, also incredulous, like this was the entire point. As though the act of hunting itself weren’t the sport, but the act of looking death in the face and spitting on it with a laugh. “You wanna hunt something sweet, go hunt fuckin’ rabbits somewhere, spaceman. The rest of us are gonna keep huntin’ shit that’s actually worth the effort.” He shook his head, turning back around, clapping Flark on the back far too hard with a thick, fleshy hand. Flark shivered, because he hadn’t actually touched a human before and didn’t realize how much muscle was under their skin. “Mariam! You wanna try again?” Lou called, Flark all but forgotten, and Flark could hear the hell yeah I do that thing ain’t dead yet! From his place on the ground. He pushed himself to his feet, approaching the guide, who looked at him with as much sympathy as he could muster, having just been in car wreck and knowing the alien’s pain more intimately than Flark probably knew.

“I believe I am done hunting today, thank you.” Flark said, softly, trying to ignore the whooping and hollering from Lou behind him. “I would like to go home now.”

~*~

No one believed his story.

Why would they? Flark knew it was a long shot. Humans hunting things that killed them often tracked, sure, but the injuries Flark had fared were substantial, once he’d gotten to a proper doctor. The physician was surprised he’d survived, and no one believed that the humans had walked away, let alone wanted to try again. Flark was a superior species! If he was injured, surely the humans had to have gone home and died right after, succumbing to wounds they were clearly just too stupid to notice. But no, Flark had explained, over and over again. The humans had flipped the truck back over, driven back to this thing called a bar, and ordered alcohol, like what they used to treat injuries. And they drank it. Happily. While planning go to back out the next day.

“I think you hit your head, dude.” Flark’s coworker snorted. “That’s made up.”

Flark sighed, going back to filing his section 24-33-5 reports and ignoring his coworker’s dismissive shake of the head. It didn’t matter what they thought, anyway. He knew better than to doubt what he’d seen. Maybe, he thought to himself, maybe they didn’t classify humans as sentient to prevent hunting them for the human’s sake – maybe it was to prevent it for his sake.   

All he knew for sure was that he was never going to that hellhole of a planet again.

Turns out, because humans are sentient you’re not allowed to hunt them under intergalactic law… because of this you have now begrudgingly joined some humans hunting club to make your trip somewhat worthwhile

[specsthesecond]

⋆｡ﾟ🪐｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡*⋆｡ﾟ🛸｡⋆｡ ﾟ🌕ﾟ｡⋆*｡ﾟ☄️｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾

Alien partner who is constantly amazed and appalled by human biology. 

You crack your knuckles In front of them once and they look at you with the most horrified expression.

You don't react in immense pain so obviously you're fine but this poor soul thinks you actually just broke your bones out of nowhere 😭. 

They can hear your heart beat and are absolutely fascinated with the way it speeds up and slows down. 

They like how it speeds up when they get closer and talk lower so they do that pretty often. They like how it slows down when you go to sleep, they find the slow rhythmic thumps very soothing. 

They'll constantly ask you questions about your species whenever a question pops into their head. 

"What are these for?"

They gently brush your eyelashes with their finger as you lay on their chest one morning. You don't open your sleepy eyes when you respond. 

"Keeps dust out of our eyes." 

There's definitely a better answer you could've given but that's all you have the energy for right then and they seem to be satisfied with that. 

Just imagine an alien partner who is so openly enthralled by you. They can't help but hold your cheeks and stare into your eyes, absolutely amazed. 

"Do all human eyes look like yours?"

You manage to actually respond, voice soft to match theirs,

"They come in a few colours but everyone's eyes are different." 

"Yours is the most beautiful colour I've ever seen."

They say while gazing into your eyes as if you hold all the stars in the galaxy in your pupils.

⋆｡ﾟ🪐｡⋆｡°｡*⋆｡ﾟ🛸｡⋆｡ﾟ｡⋆ﾟ☄️｡⋆°

[skritzzy]

I feel like any aliens that were prey at some point in evolution would have an odd fear of humans. Mostly cause they look like predators, act a bit like predators, and ARE predators. One perfect example is when we're focused on something like a mosquito that's been bugging us for a long time and we are just done.

Alien: "What. What..?"

Human: *HUNTING down a mosquito it saw*

Alien: ".... yeah I am really uncomfortable...."

Human: *quiet footsteps, pupils dialated, intense focus,*

Alien: *WAR FLASHBACKS*

Human: "Found you." *absolutely desimates the mosquito, squashing it into a million pieces as it's guts and various body parts liquidize into blood of the bloodthirsty, now stained on the palm of the human. A living being now reduced to a useless corpse as the human wipes the remains on their pants*

Alien: "I feel like I've just gained trauma."

[specshroom]

One thing I love about the Monster x Human dynamic is the possible misunderstandings that come with being separate species.

The possible cultural differences. The awkwardness. Language barriers. Anatomy differences. Maybe they mistake a platonic gesture as romantic or you mistake a romantic gesture from them as platonic.

Maybe you accidentally touch a merperson's gills and they immediately shy away at the unexpected touch. You freak out and apologise because you think you've hurt them while they try and hide their obvious arousal at the intimate touch.

Or an alien whose skin colour changes with their mood. You notice they're always a more reddish colour when near you. When you ask them about it they get even redder and try to make something up while their friends watch and snicker cus they know exactly what that colour means.

You playfully bite your werewolf partner while cuddling and they let out a very erotic groan. Now they have to try and explain to you what marking is to werewolves while also being very horny and embarrassed.

I wrote some more of these.

(づᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

[ozzgin]

On your first day of work, you encountered a monster beyond your comprehension. A colossal mass of blight and energy, standing above trees and hills and overseeing the grounds with an all-knowing gaze.

You'd assumed he is the owner of the Monster Hotel, the one who guides everything with an iron fist. You were quickly told by your centaur manager that no, the forgotten God of an ancient, long buried Cosmos is just Toby. The gardener.

Toby is rather shy and mostly mumbles words of a cursed language you don't dare to understand. He frequently offers you small bouquets of flowers whenever you pass by his garden. On particularly hot days, he likes to wear his lucky straw hat.

[Navigation] | [Ozztober Masterlist] | [Monster Hotel]

[davinawritings]

Rich Monster husband that loves to spoil his little human wife.

He handles everything money-wise, so you never have to think about it. He spoils you with a mansion and unlimited shopping trips. He hires a private chef and housekeeping team, so you never have to lift a finger.

He schedules you for a nail salon appointment and a spa day every two weeks. He loves how happy you look when you return from being properly pampered. He just finds you so precious and cute that he wants to give you everything your heart desires.

One day, you come home from your nail appointment and find him working in his study. Your monster doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his lap, smiling at the joy radiating from you. You are always excited to show him what color you picked for your nails, and today is no different.

You proudly show off your glossy manicure, saying, “Look, Daddy. I picked a color so we would match!”.

He keeps his smile on his face despite the confusion. He merely raises a brow and asks, “How are we matching little one? Last I checked, my nails aren’t painted.”

You let out a small giggle at his response, reaching between your legs to undo his pants and pull his already half-hard cock out. You stroke him firmly, causing him to groan, his large hands digging into the flesh of your hips.

“See, Daddy. We do match!” you say, pausing your hand at the top of his shaft. His eyes drop to his needy cock at your words.

He releases a deep growl as he realizes that his perfect little wife matched her nails to the exact color of his cock, specifically his flushed tip. You let out a small yelp as he stands, carrying you down the hall to the main bedroom.

Within seconds, he has you naked with your thighs thrown over his shoulders. He eats you out until you have tears streaming down your face from the overstimulation. One orgasm ends as the next begins. He doesn’t let up until he decides that he has had his fill of your dripping cunt.

Your legs are still shaking as he finally pulls away, lifting you and placing you farther up on the bed, the plush pillows cradling your head, and he hovers above you.

“Such a perfect little wife. Always so good for me, wanting to match her nails to my cock. Just the sweetest fucking wife to ever exist”, he says while leaving wet kisses all over your face.

You sigh happily at the praise, loving his affection. His words and large body making you feel safe and loved.

You cling to him as he lines his leaking tip up with your entrance. Your freshly done nails are digging into his muscles. You let out a low whine as he says, “You aren’t leaving this bed today, baby. I’m going to keep you on my cock all fucking day. I need my baby to know just how loved and appreciated she is. Keep your perfect cunt stretched and filled, just the way you like it”.

You smile at his words, knowing there is no place you would rather be than on his cock for the rest of the day.

❤️💕🖤🖤💕❤️

[gummysharksafterdark]

My alien boyfriend can’t resist just how warm my cunt is. So soft and plushy, he can barely stay composed when he fucks me… Recently, his body has begun his species’ ovulation period, and he has decided that my soft mammalian body would be a perfect place to lay his eggs.

I can feel his phallus pressing against slowly relenting cervix, a thick protrusion coming down his length and pressing against my entrance. I cry out as the semi-hard egg forces my cervix open too fast for its liking and pops comfortably into my plushy, warm womb. Then, another follows, keeping my cervix from returning to its comfort. Three, then four, then a fifth pop into my womb. I look at my belly beginning to bulge from his eggs inside of me. He’s still not done laying; a sixth pops in, followed by seven, eight and nine. I whine and cling to him while my womb stretches with his young. It begins to hurt as my belly stretches to a degree it’s never had to before, making me feel tight and bloated. He still isn’t finished. For what seemed like an eternity eggs popped their way into my belly, each one stretching it bigger and bigger, until I looked heavily pregnant. I was still expecting more eggs to continue holding my poor aching cervix open, but instead I felt my lover thrust deeper into me and a cool liquid washing over the expanse of my nearly bursting womb. He was inseminating me. I was under the impression that the eggs wouldn’t fully develop, that they would just stretch me for kink purposes. How wrong I was… my already painful, bloated, tiny little human body was going to be bursting with nearly twenty alien babies soon enough…

[brightsuzaku]

It's the US American effect: we humans just sound like "The People on TV", whether we like it or not.

Imagine if we get out in space and learn of a united galactic council of alien races united in peace, and we join them, and have peaceful relations with them all, trading knowledge and resources...

Until one day some decades later, we learn an unexpected fact, buried in some official statistics released in the council's reports.

Someone researching representation in films released by the assorted alien races spots an outlier on a graph:

96.4% of films released by the Glomarians have Humans as the main subject matter

No one has yet explained to humans why this is.

[dark-moonlust]

Readers when the hot alien/monster wants to take them to their planet, sex them up with their unique schlongs, knock them up, and treat them like royalty for the rest of their lives:

[elliejaybird]

oh also! how's your humans as aliens setting going?

I haven’t done too much with it, (Oppy world is definitely taking a front seat in my brain right now), but I have been thinking about sruki biology a little bit. As a part of making them somewhat themed after tropical fish I’m giving them paddle tails and making them sequential hermaphrodites.

This would solve a couple of problems I’ve had with continuing a plot involving these two characters.

Ruby (the name humans give the red sruki) finessed his way out of captivity once by keeping his true speed and cunning a secret, but once he returns to free more sruki he is captured a second time and kept isolated. That isolation paired with a reduced captive population leads to him developing into a female, and one of the strongest sruki alive.

[archrries]

Humans cracking their knuckles as an intimidation tactic against aliens

Can you imagine being an alien and this thing just broke its bones at you?????

I'd be scared tbh

Why did it make that noise

That's a bone breaking noise

It's like those ppl who bite off their acrylics before a fight

[monstersflashlight]

Here me out...scientists looking at fem!human lab rat getting fucked by a bunch of different monsters to study the different reactions of both the Monsters and the human 👀

We have serious mental issues guys...

Hi anon! We don't have mental issues, just great imagination.

When you applied for a job at a lab facility, you weren't expecting to be a monster's fleshlight. The job application specified absolutely nothing about it apart from saying you needed to be okay working with other species. And well, you were okay with that.

But the first day on the job, you found yourself being asked a bunch of weird questions, some of them very specific in its sexual nature. You didn't know what was happening, but you weren't too worried about it, what could happen? Maybe you should have asked.

When they finally explained to you that you'd be fucked by a bunch of different monsters and then you'd record a short video explaining how it felt and if you'd do it again, it was too late to back down. Not that you wanted to. You'd always been a bit of a freak, and seeing some other monsters at the facility only made you crave a different kind of experimentation. So it was like a match made in heaven. Or so you thought.

At first it was all good, they introduced you to the experiment with some aliens with a ridged dick and nice long fingers that made you come so many times you had to be helped back to your room after, your knees trembling and your pussy sore. The aliens were the same species as the scientists leading the research, and you wondered if he would join. He didn't the first day. They discovered you could be fucked multiple times by multiple dicks and still come.

The second day an orc and a minotaur appeared. Their dicks were pretty similar, and you had a great time riding both of them until you were filled to the brim over and over. That day they discovered that you could experiment what they called "cum inflation", your stomach distended because of the amount of cum shoot inside of you. You had to sit down and let the researcher finger everything out of you. He looked detached to it, but you came against his fingers once again.

The tentacle monster on the third day was fun. His big reproductive dick pushed into your hole as little tentacles played with your body. It was a weird sensation, but a good one. That day they discovered you could be stimulated at multiple points and that would make you come harder.

It continued like that for a few days, some monsters weird, some okay, but overall, it was such a great experience that the next day you were already dripping and hot when the werewolf entered. He stretched you with his claws and long tongue until you were crying out, just to push his fat dick inside of you until you were falling apart around him. Just to push his huge knot inside your dripping hole. You squirted all around him, making him laugh and a worried scientist come check on you.

The scientist could could have stopped everything that was happening, could have told the werewolf it was over... but instead he pinched your nipples as he pushed his alien dick in your mouth until you were gagging around him and his hips were fucking your face. It shouldn't have been as hot as it was. You came again, and again... And by the end of that session you were showered in alien and werewolf cum. You loved it.

They didn't discover anything that day, but you discovered your alien researcher had a bit of a thing for you, and he's like to explore it further.

Reminder that you can commission me (info here) or suscribe to my Patreon (info here). And that my second account is @whiskis

[milkywayes]

there's downsides to ranking high in the hierarchy [prints]

[specshroom]

Cultural differences and misconceptions in monster dynamics, part twooooo!

Part 1 here!

👽 Alien partner who is amazed by the fact that you can sweat and cry. They come from a very dry planet so the fact that your body just lets off water amazes them. They would never make you cry but they strongly encourage you to work out with them so they can see you sweat. Imagine their utter shock when you take their hand, show them another place that gets wet and tell them there's a much better way to make you sweat and cry.

🧜Siren that is stunned when you decide to sing along to their siren song, simply because no one's ever done that before. They frown when you stop and start singing again hoping you join in. Although your voice is definitely not as beautiful as theirs they look at you like its the greatest thing they've ever heard.

🌱Being in a friend group with multiple insectoid monsters and having a crush on a prey mantis girl. Your other bug friends look very nervous when you try and flirt with her, they're even more nervous when it actually works. They absolutely freak out when she invites you to her room and they all jump to separate you, crying out "They don't deserve to be eaten!" And "How could you?". Now prey mantis girl is laughing her ass off, her friends are embarrassed and you're just very confused. 

🐍Naga/reptilian partner thinking it's so funny that you can get sunburn. If you turn red easily, they will tease you relentlessly. If your skin doesn't turn red, all humans can still get sunburn and best believe your partner will be touching the sensative skin any chance they get cus they think it's just so funny. They also like to lie on the hot skin and soak up all the heat. The only reason you let them is because their cool skin is soothing on the burnt area, though they insist it's cus you like their touch. They help you peel off the dead skin when the burn heals and joke about how it's just like when you help them shed.