⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ oneshot
Target: … Confusing.
(Yautja VS Human)
(Yep this is a Yautja VS human, you read that right 💚 prompt idea came from @magnuspool who wanted to see an exceptionally lucky human dealing with a Yautja hunting them! Hope you all enjoy this little story 🥰 looking forward to your comments!)
Your heart hammered against your ribs as you stood face-to-face with the seven-foot-something nightmare that had been glued to your ass for the last two days.
The predator was fuming. Its mandibles flared wide, neon-green blood dripping from a gash on its forehead and another along its arm. One leg was clearly messed up, so it kept most of its weight off it, claws curled tight around the wound like it was personally offended by the injury. Its eyes, once cold and calculating, had widened into something between pure rage and utter disbelief.
It just couldn’t comprehend how you were still alive. Not a scratch. Not even a torn sleeve.
Honestly? Neither could you.
Two days ago you had been terrified, stumbling through the dense forest after losing your friends, convinced every shadow wanted to eat you. But somehow… you kept not dying. Every near-miss felt less like skill and more like the universe had decided to troll this alien hunter on your behalf.
And now here you both were.
The predator lifted one clawed hand and pointed straight at you, opening its fanged maw to let out a deep, guttural roar that vibrated through your bones, like a threat or maybe a frustrated demand for answers.
“Oh, stop it!” you yelled back, throwing your hands up. “I don’t know why I’m still here either!”
Flashback to forty-eight hours earlier…
You had been quietly losing your mind in the undergrowth when you first noticed it watching you. A shimmer in the trees. A faint outline that vanished the second you blinked. It was clearly studying you, deciding whether you were worth the time or the hunt.
You had climbed high to get a better look at your surroundings. The alien beast had been perched on a thick branch opposite yours, barely ten feet away, fiddling with the gauntlet on its wrist. Sparks flew. Its invisibility cloaking field flickered once, twice, then died completely with an audible pop.
The predator froze.
It slowly looked down at its malfunctioning tech, then lifted its masked head to stare directly at you. The red lenses of its bio-mask flashed once in what you could only describe as… embarrassment.
For one long, awkward second, you both just… looked at each other.
“What the f—” you started.
The branch under your foot gave an ominous crack.
You lunged sideways onto the next branch just as the first one snapped clean off and plummeted to the forest floor. The predator deciding this was beneath its dignity, dropped from its perch and vanished into the greenery with a frustrated click of its mandibles.
You exhaled shakily, clinging to the new, miraculously sturdy branch.
“Huh,” you muttered, blinking. “That was… lucky.”
It wasn’t long before exhaustion won out. You drifted off right there in the tree, the branch somehow cradling you like a hammock all night long. No falling. No sudden gusts of wind. Not even a single mosquito bothering you.
Your sleep was still restless, though. Every creak of the branches had you half-waking in a cold sweat, imagining the alien dropping down with its invisibility cloak fixed and a fresh murder-boner. It’s probably fixing that thing right now, you thought. Sharpening its claws, polishing its murder-mask, muttering alien curses about the soft human who’s about to die.
By morning you were sore, stiff and determined. Do or die, you told yourself as you climbed down. You tied a bright piece of rope around the base of the tree (your makeshift breadcrumb trail) then struck out north, deeper into the woods.
Every step felt watched.
You couldn’t tell if it was normal forest eyes or the very large, very-off extraterrestrial that had clearly decided you were its personal trophy. Strangely, the fear had started to dull. In its place was a weird, tingling curiosity. Why me? you wondered. Out of every hiker in this forest, why is this murder machine so obsessed with little old me?
If its goal was to terrify you into submission, it was doing a terrible job.
The trees gradually thinned, the underbrush easing up. Your spirits lifted. Maybe I’m finally getting out of here.
Then something shiny caught your eye on the ground ahead, glinting like it had been placed there specifically for you to notice.
You hurried over, crouching down with wide, hopeful eyes.
Snap.
A metallic thwack sounded right behind you. An elaborate arrow, nothing any human could have crafted, whistled past and buried itself deep into the tree trunk just above your head, quivering angrily.
You froze on all fours, eyes huge, a scared squeak dying in your throat.
The shiny thing in your hands? Just bait. A trigger plate. And the trap had missed you by inches.
You swallowed hard, then carefully crawled forward. Your palm brushed something thin hidden under the leaves you had disturbed.
A rope. A trip rope, connected to God knows what.
You looked up, scanning the surrounding trees. “Is that… supposed to be a trap?” you called out, faking your amusement.
“Dude, come on.”
No answer. But you could feel it watching. Somewhere up there, cloaked or not, the alien was probably having a full-blown existential crisis.
You brushed the leaves aside with your palm, studying the size of the snare. It was clever, deadly even. One wrong step and you would have been yanked upside down like a piñata at a predator birthday party.
Instead, you simply stepped around it like it was a mildly inconvenient puddle.
The forest stayed eerily quiet for a beat.
But from somewhere above and to your left, you heard a very distinct sound.
A low, guttural growl that sounded suspiciously like alien frustration mixed with the galactic equivalent of “Are you fucking kidding me?”
You dusted your hands off and kept walking, whistling a nervous little tune under your breath.
Behind you, claws dug into bark hard enough to leave deep gouges.
The predator had never felt this level of embarrassment in its entire hunting career.
“You know, I’m starting to think you don’t really like me,” you called out into the empty forest, knowing fully well it was listening.
Why were you taunting a murderous alien?
Excellent question. You had no idea. Maybe some wires had gotten crossed in your brain after hours of pure survival mode.
Or maybe, deep down, you had started to suspect the big guy just wanted to get to know you in its own violently awkward way.
…Yeah, probably not.
Your entire body jolted as the alien dropped from the trees right in front of you, invisibility cloak flickering off arrogantly. It landed heavy, dreadlock-like locks swaying with the impact. Its masked face tilted and a low, menacing click rattled from behind the steel.
“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean— I just thought maybe we could—” You stumbled backward, hands raised. “I have no idea what you want!”
Your heel caught on something. The rope trap. Your stomach dropped. This was it. Game over for you.
…Except nothing happened.
You blinked down at your feet, then back up at the approaching predator. Its talons flexed with a threatening shink as a wrist blade extended from its gauntlet.
Your hands waved frantically in surrender. “Waitwaitwait—please, I swear I’m not—”
Another step back.
FWOOSH.
The rope suddenly snapped taut behind the predator. In a humiliating blur, the trap you had somehow avoided whipped around it instead, yanking the massive hunter upside down with a startled growl. It dangled from the tree like a very angry, very muscular piñata, ropes creaking under its weight.
You stared, mouth open.
The alien jerked and thrashed for a moment, then went still, slowly rotating to face you. Even behind the mask, the pure, seething frustration was unmistakable.
“I swear I have no idea how that happened,” you said, lips twitching as you fought back a laugh. “You have to believe me…”
It roared, raw, furious, the sound of a predator that had just been utterly owned by its own equipment.
You almost felt bad for it. Almost.
“Listen, if I help you down, will you stop chasing me—”
Another roar cut you off, louder this time. Your blood ran cold.
“FINE!” you shouted back. “Hang there then, you stubborn asshole!”
You scoffed and walked right under it, trying to look annoyed even as a grin threatened to break free. The beast went still as you passed, as if refusing to give you the satisfaction of struggling while you were watching.
“Oh shit—my bag,” you muttered, spinning on your heel and heading back the way you came.
You had only taken a few steps when another sharp click and crackle sounded behind you. You ducked instinctively. A second trap, a sparking electrical net, triggered exactly where you would have been walking if you hadn’t turned back for your bag.
You straightened up slowly, staring at the crackling wires, then turned to look at the still dangling predator.
“Did you… just set that off?” you asked, your tone dripping with accusation even an alien could understand.
The hunter hung there in silence, mandibles clicking once, at what you assumed was a yes.
You shook your head, a slow grin spreading across your face. “You’re either the unluckiest predator in the galaxy… or I was born under a lucky star.”
There really wasn’t any other explanation.
With far too much newfound confidence, you grabbed your bag, slung it over your shoulder and kept walking. Your destination unknown, but you were strangely certain that nothing bad was going to happen.
Behind you, the alien remained hanging quietly, its clicking growing softer, almost thoughtful.
As if it had finally started to wonder the same thing.
It wasn’t long before your paths crossed again.
“Oh, give me a break!” you shouted, sighing dramatically before bolting again.
The damn alien had found you once more, gauntlet raised and already aiming something sharp and deadly in your direction. Your legs moved on pure autopilot, feet barely feeling like they belonged to you anymore.
A low-hanging branch suddenly appeared out of nowhere—okay, fine, it had always been there, but panic made an excellent excuse—and smacked you straight across the face.
You went down hard.
But the timing was… perfect once again.
The blade that shot from the alien’s gauntlet whistled through the air and embedded itself deep into the very branch that had just decked you.
“Oh shit” You clutched your stinging nose and whipped around to look at your pursuer.
The predator stood frozen, staring between you and its gauntlet like it had betrayed him. Pure, burning rage radiated off of it.
“Ha! Ha!” You burst out laughing, scrambling back to your feet. “Nice shot!”
You took off running again before its furious roar could catch up with you, a nervous, unhinged grin stretching across your face. You weren’t sure anymore if the fluttering in your chest was terror or actual joy at how badly this predator’s luck had tanked.
You still hadn’t found any sign of civilization when an old, abandoned cabin came into view, more of a barn than an actual cabin, but sturdy enough to maybe buy you a few minutes.
You yanked the door open, hurried inside and shoved a heavy wooden plank against it for good measure.
The interior was dusty and empty. At least you weren’t completely exposed anymore… though you were arguably more trapped than before.
Too late to rethink your decisions.
Heavy footsteps thudded across the roof above you. The alien wasn’t even trying to be stealthy now. It wanted you to know it was right there, done playing hide and seek.
Only “seek” remained.
“Fuck…” you whispered, crawling backward across the floor, hoping it would somehow not see you.
It knew exactly where you were though.
CRACK.
The roof gave way with a loud snap. You barely had time to scramble aside as the hunter plummeted through the ceiling and crashed onto the floor just a few meters away from you.
You stared, wide-eyed.
“Did you really just fall through the roof—?” You slapped a hand over your mouth to smother the giggles already trying to escape your lips. Guilt tried to creep in, but it was losing badly to disbelief.
Who was unlucky enough to fall through a roof?
Apparently this predator.
It rose with surprising grace, but the deep, rumbling growl that followed made it very clear it was done with your shenanigans and your absurd luck.
Its head snapped toward you, rubbery locks swaying as it began stalking forward with heavy, furious steps.
“Wait-wait, wait!” you begged, still crawling backward.
Another loud crack echoed from above.
Both of you froze, heads tilting upward at the same time.
That split second was all you needed.
You scrambled to your feet and sprinted toward the opposite exit. The predator roared and lunged after you, moving impossibly fast, yet somehow still keeping just enough distance.
You slammed your shoulder into the door, bursting outside right as the rest of the ceiling collapsed behind you in a thunderous crash of wood and dust.
The alien dove through the doorway at the last second, rolling across the ground and coming up in a crouch.
Your heart was hammering so hard you could feel it in your teeth. A few meters away, the predator was bent over with its clawed hands on its knees, breathing heavily.
The sight was so strangely… human that it threw you off for a second. For just a moment, you almost felt bad for it.
That moment died instantly.
“Fuck!” you yelped as fresh adrenaline flooded your system. You took off running again as it bolted your way.
“What the fuck do you even want from me?!” you shouted over your shoulder, exasperated.
But you already knew the answer, luck was still on your side. Somehow, you would keep figuring it out.
And figure it out you did.
The next time it caught up with you, you managed to knock a massive beehive straight onto its head. The enraged swarm exploded around the alien as it frantically ripped its mask off, roaring in frustration. The bees ignored you completely while you snatched the discarded mask off the ground and sprinted away like your life depended on it (which it very much did).
The time after that, you had been wearing its mask like an oversized helmet and accidentally screamed the right command. The plasma caster on its shoulder suddenly swiveled and blasted its own arm. The alien’s shocked roar still echoed in your ears.
But luck was running out.
Next time you two met, it fired a strange mechanical wire at your legs.
The cords wrapped around your ankles and yanked you to the ground. Just as it raised its weapon for a clean finishing shot, some furious wild cat launched itself at the alien, slashing a deep gash across its thigh before the predator snapped the animal’s neck in retaliation.
And now here you both were.
The Yautja stood a short distance away, limping, bleeding neon green from multiple wounds, maskless and exhausted. Its gold eyes burned into yours with fury and genuine bewilderment.
“I don’t even know why I’m still here!” you screamed at it, throwing your hands up.
It answered with a loud roar, mandibles flaring wide.
Somehow, after days of running, the sight of that deadly predator wasn’t as terrifying as it used to be. It was starting to feel… almost familiar.
“I’ll give you your mask back if you just please—” You exaggerated your own frustration with a dramatic groan.
The beast let out a lower, rumbling growl this time. Not really a roar. More like a warning to stay away from it.
“Oh… okay then,” you muttered. “Take it. Just stop following me. Nothing good has come out of this for either of us!”
The alien roared again, sounding almost… offended.
You startled, then immediately frowned.
“You want the mask or not?”
You tossed it gently toward the alien, then took two cautious steps back.
It eyed you warily from head to toe before slowly approaching the mask, moving like it had been Pavlovian-conditioned to expect chaos anytime you were involved. Every time it had tried to attack or intimidate you, something ridiculous and painful had happened to it instead. It had clearly learned to be careful around the tiny, unassuming human.
Its head tilted, rubbery dreadlocks shifting with the motion as its golden eyes stayed locked on you.
It crouched down carefully, claws reaching for the mask.
A loud, booming sound suddenly erupted from the trees to your left.
Both of you snapped your heads toward the noise at the same time.
A hoard. Something big. Loud. And definitely not friendly.
The Yautja snatched its mask, slammed it onto its face and leaped over a fallen tree in one graceful motion. You stumbled backward and pressed yourself behind the nearest thick trunk, heart racing again.
The roar of the incoming horde grew louder, heavy footsteps, snapping branches and guttural snarls echoing through the trees.
You peeked from behind the trunk just in time to see the predator crouch low, blades extended, clearly ready to fight. Its mask scanned the treeline, its shoulders tense.
For a split second, you considered running again. Then your stupid, exhausted brain had a better idea.
“Hey!” you hissed, waving one arm to get its attention. “Truce? Just for now? I really don’t want to die today!”
The alien’s head snapped toward you. Its gold eyes narrowed behind the mask, mandibles clicking once in clear disbelief. After everything you had put it through, you were asking for an alliance?
A massive, boar-like creature burst from the trees, followed by three more. They were ugly, spiked and very territorial.
One charged straight at you.
You yelped and dove sideways. At the exact same moment, the predator fired its plasma caster. The shot meant for the beast went wide because you had moved and instead clipped a dead tree branch above you. The branch snapped off and plummeted, smacking the creature squarely on the head and knocking it out cold.
The other three monsters came to a halt, confused.
You lay on the ground, blinking up at the sky. “Okay… that one wasn’t even my fault.”
The predator (and temporarily your ally) made a sound , maybe the alien version of a long-suffering sigh.
What followed was the most paradoxical team-up in the galaxy’s history.
Every time the alien tried to strike, your luck turned its attacks into the perfect accidental ambush. A thrown spear missed its target and ricocheted off a rock, knocking out two beasts at once. When it leaped to slash at another, you tripped over a root at the perfect moment, causing the predator to accidentally use you as a springboard and crash into the final creature with twice the force.
By the end, the entire horde lay unconscious around you.
Silence finally returned to the forest.
You sat up slowly, covered in dirt and leaves, breathing hard. The alien stood a few meters away, staring at the battlefield, then at you, with defeat painted all over its figure. Neon blood trickled from fresh wounds. Its armor was dented. One of its locks bleeding.
You gave it a sheepish little wave.
“I’m serious this time. No more running. I’m exhausted. Let’s just call it a draw.”
The alien approached you slowly, still careful, as if expecting the sky to fall the moment it got too close. It stopped just out of arm’s reach and tilted its head, studying you like you were the most baffling creature it had ever found in all its hunts.
But what had you staring in disbelief was its reaction once he fully stood in front of you.
It took its mask off and let out a low, rumbling sound, not like the roars that have been hunting you, no, that almost sounded like a chuckle. Dry. Reluctant. Amused against its will.
You couldn’t help but grin, letting out the breath you’ve been holding since it came closer. “Yeah, I don’t know what the hell happened either.”
The alien clicked its mandibles once, then slowly placed the mask back on. The red lenses flared to life. It straightened to its full imposing height, but the usual menace felt… muted.
It pointed one claw at you, then at the ground, then made a sweeping motion with its hand, the universal sign for “stay here.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You’re coming back?”
Another click that you took as a “yes”.
Before it turned to leave, it paused. His claw hand reached to its belt and tossed something small at your feet. A small, glowing device that blinked, some kind of tracker or beacon, maybe? Then it leaped into the trees and vanished with far less grace than usual, its limp still obvious.
You picked up the device, turning it over in your hands.
A few hours later, when a rescue helicopter finally appeared overhead (guided by some mysterious signal), you couldn’t stop laughing.
Somewhere deep in the forest, a very tired, very unlucky alien predator was probably nursing its wounds and replaying the last three days in its head, wondering how one small, ordinary human had managed to turn a simple hunt into the most humiliating experience of its life.
And maybe, it was already looking forward to the rematch.
Maybe not.
a/n: This was harder to write than any dramatic scene I’ve ever written 🥲 comedy needs so much writing skill, but I hope you enjoyed this comedy relief story 😊 we’re gonna need some fun for the story updates that are coming 😅
Can’t wait for your comments, I missed you all 💚
