Warnings: injury, scars, past trauma, yautja trauma, suggestive, very short
Summary: Your elder lover is reluctant to talk about her injures and her scars, but you encourage her.
A/N: This is the elder yautja from my meeting the clan stories (Thwei Dto)
A/N 2: This was a request from @grassfedburger
Your elder lover delights in telling you stories about her long career. She adores the way you look at her while you listen. Eyes wide, your full attention on her. It makes her feel truly special. Sometimes though, she glosses over the more gory details. Her heart sank the first time she told you a gruesome story. The way your face fell, and you looked horrified and scared. The last thing she wanted was to cause you worry.Â
Little did she know you wanted to hear all the details. Of course you hurt hearing it, but you loved her so much, you wanted to know everything.Â
One night, you really got her going. She had one clawed foot up on the table, she swung her arms wildly as she described the grand tale. You listened attentively as always, and so you immediately noticed how she shrunk. It was subtle, almost too small to see, but not for you. She tried again to dance around the details, but you stopped her.Â
"No, please. I want to hear it," you pleaded. She shook her head in response.
"I can not stand your eyes when I do." It's true you could hardly stop the worried look on your face, but you remained adamant.Â
"I love you, telling me the truth won't change that." You looked up at her again with the same look that made her feel like the only being in the universe that mattered. After a long pause she sighed and continued her story.
You couldn't help but wince at the worse details, but you continued to reassure her to continue. When she finished, she showed you the scar. It was a long curvy line down the back of her arm, from her shoulder to her wrist. You instinctively traced that line with your finger. Once you reached her hand, you took it and gently kissed her knuckles. After that it was over.
The two of you moved from the kitchen to the hall to the bedroom. All the way you kissed and traced her scars. Eventually the two of you tumbled into bed, and tumbled out of your clothes.
Warnings: loud noises, fighting, eating, drinking, nausea, light gore, alien blood, slightly drunk reader, short of breath reader
Summary: your lover's clan invites you to dinner and it just keep getting worse
A/N: sorry I've been gone for so long, all my creativity was put into another project. I've got a lot of wips and a few requests/asks to get too, so look forward to more writing comming soon â€
Part 1 & Part 2
This was not anything like meeting the parents. Even in all the sitcoms and bad reality tv that you had watched, you had never seen anything go so wrong. As the two faced off with each other Amedha, your lover's worst rival, still took the time to look over at you and whistle. Your lover lunged and dug their mandibles into his throat. Amedha responded by digging his claws deep into your lover's side, causing them to scream in pain, and thus release their rivals' neck. You knew better than to get in between them, but you couldnât just let your lover get beat up like this.Â
Amedha looked over to you again and winked. The food you had just eaten bubbled up in your throat, and you couldn't stop the disgusted expression from spreading across your face. However, this gave your lover the perfect opening to give their rival a hard right hook to the jaw. The crack of bone rang out around the room. They quickly gained the upper hand maneuvering to hold their rival down, holding his face against the floor. Amedha scoffed, earning a loud deep and angry growl from your love. They pulled his arm back until there was a sharp snap and a roar. You quickly shielded your eyes from the gruesome sight.Â
You liked to think that you had a strong stomach. You didnât mind gory horror movies, and could handle most everyday ooman injuries. Broken bones, and bloody cuts didnât phase you, but this. Between the sounds of injury, the reactionary screams of pain, and the sight of all the blood and backwards facing limbs. You struggled very badly to deal. But the uproar from the table encouraged you to look again.Â
Your lover now stood, one clawed foot atop their rival's head. They let out an ear splitting victory roar that rattled every plate on the table. The rest of the party cheered, and you added some meek applause.Â
They then returned to your side, placing a kiss on your head as they sat back down.Â
"Apologies, starlight. Such displays are not uncommon at these types of events."
"That's all right," you whispered back, "I was just worried." You reached out to the glowing green dripping from their abs. They chuffled in an attempt to calm you. It worked, but only slightly.Â
Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted your lover's rival slinking off. The moment the door closed behind him the table roared again and the festivities continued.Â
--
After eating your weight in food, and more "wine" then you maybe could have handled, your lover, still somehow upright, guided you to their room. You tried to argue, suggesting you go back on the space plane and spend the night at your place, but your lover responded that space travel was not a good idea in your condition. They were right.Â
A panel on the wall slid open to reveal a small two room cabin. The first room was meticulously organized, every wall was covered in weapons, tools, and trophies. The next room was more homey. As homey as the yautja get. Furs covered the walls and floor, trinkets and personal items littered every surface, and you recognized more than a few gifts from you. A cubbie was cut out high on one wall.Â
You walked (stumbled) over and stuck your hands up to climb in, but didn't even come close. Your lover came up behind you and you noticed that the cubbie was even taller than them. You threw your hands up at them, demanding uppies. They chuffed at you in a way that sounded more like a laugh. That is when you noticed that they had a mask in their hand. It was much smaller than their usual helmet. They offered it to you, but in your inebriated state you still didn't understand. They turned the mask around and affixed it to your face. It was only then that you noticed that it had been getting hard for you to breathe.Â
You greedily sucked in the fresh air from the mask. Only now realizing how out of breath you were. Your lover took the time to remind you that 'the air on earth is different to what we are used to, and thus the air on the ship is different to what you are used to'. But you were far to drunk and sleepy to pay attention.
Without any more time to process, your lover scoped you up and effortlessly carried you up and into the cubbie. You very quickly found yourself surrounded by soft furs, and plush covers. Your lover wrapped themselves around you with their back to the entrance. Between the soft bed, the exhausting dinner, and your lover's purrs you struggled to keep your eyes open.Â
"We're gonna need to talk about what happened." You said fighting for consciousness. Your lover only replied.
"In the morning"
--
As your eyes opened you struggled to remember where you were. Eventualy the soft scratch of your lover's claws jogged your memory and you recalled last nights fight. And last nights announcement. You thought briefly about turning over and walking your lover, but you had now way of telling what time it was. But the second you stretched your legs your lover was awake anyway.
"Good morning starlight"
"How can you tell?" They turned the screen of ther writs gauntlet tword you, and using every ounce of yautja language skills you had you deduced that it was 9am. At that you let out an exasperated sigh.
"Are you all right starlight?"
"What happened last night?"
"Well," your lover began "we boarded my space plane, and then-"
"I remember what happened." You said, cutting them off and Flipping over. "I just don't understand what happened."
"What do you not understand?"
"Now your my mate? And that means I'm part of the clan?" They took a moment before awnsering.
"I do not understand either, but I am not unhappy. I am glad that you have been accepted so publicly."
"Honestly I am too, but what does this mean? Does this change anything?"
"Do you want things to change?" They asked tentively.
"No. That's why I'm worried."
"If you do not want anything to change, then nothing will."
"It just feels so official. Almost like were getting marrried."
"What is, getting married?" This earned another sigh.
"Its a ceremony where two people are joined In a legally binding commitment to eachother." Its a really big deal."
"Would you like to get married."
"Woah woah woah, slow down. I don't know about all that right now. I mean I do love you, but thats a really big commitment, and suddenly being called your mate and being part of the clan already feels like too much. I-I I just don't know."
"That is all right. I am happy with where things are now too."
Warnings: mentions of injury, fictional blood, worry, near panic, comfort
Summary: you knew that your lover was a hunter, but this was the first time you really understood what that meant
A/N: this was a request from @grassfedburger , but it fit in so well with my wider yautja x reader story that I'm making it fit
Your back door suddenly opened. It was the middle of the night and you were sure it had been locked. Quickly and quietly you grabbed your nearest self defense weapon and made your way out of your bedroom.Â
Approaching the living room you could clearly hear the sounds of rummaging in the kitchen. You stayed low to the ground and readied yourself to take out whoever was rooting around in your fridge.Â
You raised your "weapon" and screamed. Only to be met with your yautja lover, hunched over, with a mouth full of leftovers. Sighing, you disarm yourself and went in for a hug.Â
"I'm so happy to see you," you said with relief, allowing your shoulders to relax.Â
"I am sorry for frightening you, starlight." They turned around and returned your gesture.Â
"You were gone for so long, I was starting to get worried." They quickly shook their head and snorted.
"No need for worry." You smiled and pulled away. You yawned and rubbed your eyes, only to feel something wet on your face. You looked down at your hands and saw a glowing neon green substance on your fingers. Like someone had broken a glow stick.Â
"What is this?" You questioned. Your gaze darting from your hand to your lover and back again.
"My blood," they stated so nonchalantly.Â
"What!?" You all but shrieked. Panic began to bubble up in your veins. Rubbing alcohol, gauze, bandages, stitches? There's no way you could take a seven foot tall alien to a human doctor, and it's not like you were going to be much help. How the hell were you supposed to stop the bleeding. What's gonna happen if you can't help? Are they going to be ok!?
The feeling of your lover's hands wrapping around your waist suddenly brought you back to reality. Your breathing was rapid and shallow, your hands were shaking, your vision was blurry as tears ran down your cheeks.Â
You close your eyes and focus on your lover. The way their claws gently rake across your hips. Their purring softly floats to your ears as you begin to breathe.
"I am fine, starlight. I am not ooman, I am not so fragile." Their voice was deep and calm. When at last your tears stopped they effortlessly picked you up and carried you to your bathroom. They set you down, and retrieved the med kit strapped to their thigh. They proceeded to set everything up on your bathroom counter.Â
At that you relaxed a bit, realizing that theyâve got this handled. Still you watched intently as they mixed a blue liquid into the container of leftovers until it became a paste. With a tool resembling a palette knife they smeared the mixture into the wound on their back. You moved to see it. A large, deep, bright green, glowing, gash stared back at you. You felt the panic bubble up again, but kept breathing. Your lover brought an injection gun around to their injury and pulled the trigger. They let out a sound in response, something between a hiss and a growl. Your heart ached, but you were at a complete loss of what to do. You wanted so badly to help, but could not fathom what you could even do.Â
It wasn't long until your lover turned back to you, sensing your anxiety. They had finished patching themselves up and knew that now you needed treatment.Â
"Starlight," they said so softly you almost didn't catch it.
"Yes?" You responded in a shaky voice as your breath hitched.Â
"Why do you panic? The danger has long since passed. There is no need to be scared."
"I just-" you tried to breathe, but struggled to regain yourself- "I just don't know what to do.
"That is fine. I know what to do." The sentiment didn't help you much. You still cried, and shook, struggling badly just to try to stop your knees from wobbling. Just as you thought your legs were about to give out from under you, your lover picked you up and held you. The way you cried, and shook, and agonized over your own powerlessness reminded them of a pup. So they did what they thought was best and attempted to sooth you like a pup.Â
Gently holding you in their arms they slowly rocked you back and forth, and purred loudly. The sound rumbled straight from their chest into yours. You didn't appreciate being babied, but you could hardly argue. It worked like a charm. You were calm and sleepy in just a few minutes.Â
At that your lover carried you over to your bed and climbed in. They kept you pressed against them knowing that you sought comfort from them. But the truth is that they sought comfort from you as well. They sealed the deal with a kiss. Or more an approximation of a kiss. Their mandibles cradled your forehead and their upper row of teeth gently made contact. You smiled. And allow yourself to fully relax, and sleep.
Warnings: reverse comfort, shower, mentions of injury, infection, and bugs. Cuddles, food, mentions of first aid, mention of minor character death, angst, slight ptsd for Chris
Summary: Whenever Chris comes home after a mission he has a checklist that the two of you follow
A/N: Iâm so excited to start posting about Chris! I am so excited for Death Island!
You and Chris always had certain rituals for when he would leave for, and return from missions. When he left it was all about you. He would spend the few days before leaving taking you out on dates, pampering you, and running errands. As well he would pick up chores and odd jobs around the house in preparation for you taking over all of it when he was gone. He didn't always have prior warning to when he would be leaving, but he always spent whatever warning time he did have with you. When he returned, that time was for him.
The transition back to civilian life was always hard for him, it had been his entire career. Even back when he was in the air force coming back home was often more stressful than active service, but you made it easier. Much easier. Whenever possible, Chris would call you ahead of time to let you know that he was on his way. Sometimes you had days notice, other times you had just a few hours. However much time you had you always made sure that the house was clean, and usually had a meal prepared. To be honest Chris didn't really care either way about the state of the house, or the presence of a home cooked meal, but he did appreciate it greatly. It helped to free up space in his mind so that he could focus on comfort.
Once Chris was in the door you had a checklist. This was extremely important to help him with the transition. For him it was like a reset for his body and mind. That checklist went as thus:
1. A hug. Extremely important. He needed to know that you were there, that this was real, and that he was back home.
2. Food. If there is one state in which Chris can not function properly, it's hunger. Even though cold, wet, and injured he could still push through and focus on the task at hand, but if he was hungry then nothing else was going to happen until he got some food. Sometimes he would have had something on the way, but if not then you always had something ready. Eating with you also helped him ease back into a domestic mindset.
3. Shower. More than likely he had gone the entire mission without a proper scrub. There might have been running water and a bar of soap, but he had more than likely been far from the creature comforts of a hot shower, with a messaging nozzle, and moisturizing body wash with a good scrub from a luffa.
4. Body check. More often than not, you would join him in the shower for the body check, where you would meticulously search his entire body for anything. Cuts, scrapes, bruises, injuries, ticks, mites, lice, and or infections. Anything that needed to be addressed. Usually he would have been looked over by some kind of medic before he came home, so any major issues would have already been taken care of. But this was much more thorough. You were the only person he would ever let get this close. And the fact that you trailed little kisses around his body didn't hurt.
5. First aid. You had learned some first aid specifically for this. You learned to treat all sorts of minor issues. Dressing and redressing wounds, removing ticks and mites, treating infections, and you would dutifully care for any issue that arose from the body check.
6. Cuddles. It didn't matter if he came home in the middle of the day, or the middle of the night, this man is gonna need cuddles. Curl up on the couch or in bed, it doesn't matter. Depending on how the mission went and how Chris was feeling the cuddle position would change. If he was feeling more insecure and scared he would be the big spoon and hold you close, protecting you. If he was feeling more sad, and helpless he would lay on top of you, allowing you to rub his back and play with his hair. Cuddling was usually done in silence as he preferred to focus his attention on you and your breathing, but he wouldn't complain if you wanted to play some music or watch TV. The more physical contact the better.
7. Don't talk about work. During the transition back into civilian life, Chris would be very sensitive. He would be very quiet, hypervigilant, and skittish. It wasn't a good idea to talk about his mission during this time. So you two had agreed that you would wait one full day before talking about it. And you two had agreed that one full day was one wake up to the next. Which sometimes resulted in more than 24 hours before talking about his mission, but that was fine with the both of you. Even after one full day you never pressured him to talk if he didn't want to
8. Talk about work. This last step was not part of the original list. In Fact when the two of you first started doing this he hated talking about work. He would avoid talking about it at all cost, and even when he did he only gave sparse details. But as Chris has gotten older he's found that talking about work can actually be really cathartic. He now finds it important to talk to you about what happened during his time away. The good and the bad. He's gotten more emotional over the years as well. At first he tried to stop it, but you let him know that it's ok to be upset and angry, it's ok for him to cry and to shake. As he talks, you're there to guide him through his emotions, and then to bring him back to reality when he's done.
With the checklist complete you still keep a close eye on him for the next few days. He might have injuries that need to be treated, and emotional scars that need attention. You're always there helping him along his way. Eventually he settles back into normal life, and the two of you cohabitate once again.
This checklist has helped not just him but you as well many, many times. Especially after Jill's supposed death, her return, and Piers' death. But the list was put to the ultimate test after Chris returned from Romania.
Warnings: Brief mentions of: suicide, SA, harassment violence, and injury. Themes of PTSD. Nightmares. Hurt/Comfort
Summary: After living through hell, dropping out of service, failing to re-enter civilian life, and trenching across the galaxy, you finally get some peace of mind in your new life.Â
A/N: This is probably the most specific fic I've written, and probably the most heavy, but I think it's really good!
You don't like talking about your service, you don't even like telling people that you served. Folks always tried to thank you, and tell you how brave you are. You hated it. There was nothing from your service that was worth being thanked over. You had been forced to kill and maim in the name of corporate interest. You had been harassed simply for the crime of having tits. And so many of your friends were dead, not because they were killed valiantly in the heat of battle, but because they too had been mistreated and abused by the government who they had sworn to protect.
Somehow things got even worse when you left service. The VA was absolutely now help, you had been left with chronic pain from all the shrapnel left in your body. Radio shows and news anchors kept reaching out to hear your story, only for you to tell it and be met with horrified looks and an empty promise that they would keep in touch. The worst part was having to live amongst civilians who had no idea what you went though and would likely vomit if you told them. In the end, getting off planet was the best decision you ever made.
The yautja were much more your style. Their entire civilization was focused on hunting. But not just random senseless killings like back on earth. These hunts had rules, they were fair, and it was for glory. You were treated so well by everyone too. Free, no hassle health care, mental health support, and best of all a loving wife to come home too.Â
You loved telling her all about your hunts, but always refrained from telling her about your life before leaving earth. You didnât want her to know about any of it, and for the most part she didnât ask. But she did wonder.Â
Despite how hard you tried to run from your past it always caught up to you, especially in your dreams. Vivid images of war would regularly flash across the back of your eyelids as your brain struggled to rest. What was worse is that these nightmares were always worse than your memories. They were twisted and warped by your subconscious until they became more horrific than reality could ever be.Â
You once again flew out of your sleep, the tendrils of those nightmares slowly fading as your dark bedroom came into view. The soothing voice of your lover wafted into your ears as you slowly regained awareness of the world around you. Even sitting in bed she towered over you, and effortlessly pulled you into her lap and cradled you in her arms as though you were her pup. She loved you like you were her pup. Without even thinking you burrowed your face into her clavicle and sobbed.
âIT WAS SO SCARY!â You wailed.Â
âI know love, It's ok, I'm here,â she soothed back.Â
âI-I was jus- just tr-try-trying to pull hi-him to safety, and-and they j-just kept SHOOTING AT ME!â You completely lost control as you sobbed and cried into her. She began to rock you as she sang something that you had once heard her singing to a suckling. It was hard to tell in the dead of night how much time had passed but that didnât matter as your sniffling slowed then stopped. Â
âPlease,â she spoke, honey and silk dripping from her voice âTell me.â She didnât even need to say what, you knew.Â
You followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She fixed you both a warm drink before joining you. Almost immediately you poured it all out. Everything you had seen in combat, everything that had been done to you by your superiors, everything. Eventually you had to stop. Your breath hitched, your eyes stung, your nose ran, and the sun was starting to come up. You hadn't even gotten to the subject of the nightmare. Your lover soothed you once again, treating you very much like a sad pup.Â
She curled back into bed with you in her arms. Somewhere between the heat of her body, the soft plush of the bed, and the reassuring sounds of the early morning, you were able to fall back asleep, if only for a moment.Â
Over the next few days you told your wife more. Telling her how and why you left service, your life after, the many many funerals you attended. Eventually you told her about how and why you left earth, and how everything has been better since then and how you donât think you can ever go back. She gave you a sad smile.
âMy life as well has been better since you have come into it, but I am so sorry that you had to walk though that to be here.â It was at last her turn to cry. Her heart ached for what you had lived though. In that moment the only thing she wanted to do was take that pain away, to take those memories, and to take the nightmares. You both held each other, and embraced for a long moment. Once the tears from both of you began to slow, you pulled away and looked at each other. Her hair painted her face and the tears caught the sunlight to look like jewels. Your rosy cheeks bloomed, and a smile was spread across your face. You echoed back your wife's earlier sentiment.
âI'm sorry I had to go though that too. But fuck do you make it all worth it.â
Summary: Chris does his best to comfort you despite how emotionally constipated he is
A/N: we don't need to unpack why this is one of my favorite prompts, we just donâtÂ
His first instinct is to fight. Not you, but whoever or whatever made you cry. Chris isn't the best with emotional problems. When it comes to his own tears he usually opts to bottle them up. But he knows that that's not the best solution and he would NEVER encourage you to bottle up your emotions.Â
Somehow though, despite how bad he is with his own problems, he's much better at helping others. Maybe it came from taking care of Claire, maybe it came from his long and eclectic career, but he's gotten pretty good at handling someone crying. Once, of course, he takes a moment to calm himself down.Â
He starts by sitting beside you. He'd even sit on the floor if that's where you are. He tries his best to get down to your level, even if that means slouching over and rounding his back. He'll ask before he touches you, and if you refuse he has no problem keeping his hands to himself. He'd ask if you're ok, and if you need anything. Mustering every ounce of calm he can into his voice.Â
The moment you make a request he is scrambling to meet it. Want water? Here it is. Food? Coming right up. Silence? Dark? Done and done. If you don't know what you want, or can't vocalize what you want. Then he will guide you though some breathing exercises to calm you down before he asks again. His main goal is to calm you down enough to stop crying. Once you do he will ask you what happened.Â
Fighting is still on the table. Everything is on the table. He is ready and willing to fulfill any request. Once you explain what's wrong he is solutions oriented. He wants to help, he wants to fix it. More than likely though you just want him to listen to you. You're gonna have to tell him. But once you do Chris is more than happy to sit and listen. He does understand that, most people just want someone to listen, but sometimes he forgets. Especially when it comes to you. He wants so badly to protect you, that his first instinct is to fight.Â
Summary: What was once a simple dinner goes south as tensions between your lover and their rival run high
A/N: I had to do a lot of research to flesh this out, but I also made up a bunch of stuff, but whatever. My headcannon my rules â€
Part 1
This was not like meeting the parents. Turning to your lover, they seemed just as surprised as you. As the rest of the table was still celebrating, you leaned to your lover and whispered.Â
âI thought this was just dinner, what just happened?â
âI do not know, I was not told of this.â
Your attention was once again pulled in another direction as the door opened and more yautja came carrying giant plates of food.Â
In a beautiful choreographed dance they surrounded the table, placing the large plates in the middle. The arrival of the food was celebrated with more roaring. Then entered the next wave of servers bringing impossibly large jugs of red liquid. This was celebrated with even more roars as the cacophony of sound threatened your sanity. Between the impossibly loud sounds and absurd portions of food, you felt even smaller now. The size of food rivaled your own mass. You did remember that you were seated with eleven yautjas, and you've seen how much your lover can eat in one sitting. But your embarrassment flooded back as it dawned that you would not be able to keep up.Â
Despite everyone's eagerness for the food and drink, they waited. The elders hand came into your field of view as they grabbed a pair of tongs off of the large serving plate and grabbed a small portion, transferring it to her own plate. She then grabbed a jug and poured her own drink. Once this was done everyone else dug in.
You sat back and watched for a moment. Partly because you didn't want your arm ripped off in the chaos, but mostly to observe. You figured that if you could just copy what everyone else was doing then everything would be fine. However you hadn't accounted for just how hostile this new built environment was to someone of your height. Reaching your hand across the table you tried to grab the tongs but couldn't manage to reach them. Your lover didnât hesitate to help. They took your plate and collected a small serving for you. You gave them a thankful look. However both of your attentions were pulled to the other end of the table by loud jeering.Â
Your lover's rival looked completely different from them. He was tall and lean, towering over you and your lover. His skin was an off putting olive green, and his long thin dreadlocks were wild around his head. Spike-like whiskers protruded from his chest and shoulders, and his mandibles were tipped with long yellow fangs. He was quite handsome by yautja standards, but to you he just looked like an asshole. You tried to turn your attention back to your food. Bringing the hefty plate to your mouth and eating directly off of it as everyone else was doing, but the rival demanded your attention back.Â
âAaa, ooman, they takenâ care of you?â You stared daggers at them as you slowly lowered your plate. âThey get you nice skulls eh? I get you nice skulls.â That last comment was punctuated by him standing up and planting one clawed foot on the table and thrusting his hips forward, causing a long narrow skull of some poor creature dangling off his belt to swing back and forth in a vulgar display. You tried and nearly failed to suppress a gag. You were disgusted. Your lover was fuming, struggling to hold back the urge to kill their dreaded rival by clenching their hand around their mug hard enough to put a large crack in it. Another yautja across from you began to rise, seemingly refusing to take this sitting down, while still others at the table put down their plates and watched the rivals display intently. However no one at dinner was more offended and angry than the elder.Â
A blood curdling screech was hurled in his direction, and the rival cowered. The rest of the party settled in the relief that her anger was not directed at them. You, on the other hand, sat back in your chair, hands shaking, and eyes wide, the ringing in your ears slowly subsiding. Your lover snuck a hand behind you and slowly rubbed your back, finally allowing you to relax. The elder relaxed as well, confident that order had been restored. She turned to you and offered some form of apologetic look.Â
"My apology for that," she said, returning to her sweet but regal demeanor. Your lover picked up one of the jugs and poured you a drink, offering it to you as a distraction. Meanwhile their rival sulked.Â
The red drink, whatever it was, was sweet like wine, but very strong. While the food tasted fairly normal, a little light on seasoning, but otherwise delectable and soft in texture. Your lover kept a close eye on you. As did everyone at the table. Especially the yautja right across from you. They were the smallest one present, their skin was light in color, and their dreads were short, barely brushing their shoulders. They seemed fascinated with you. Studying your movements and shifting their gaze from you, to your lover, and back to you. Your lover chuffed at them, causing them to break focus. He said a word to your lover in their language before returning their attention back to you.Â
âI have never seen an ooman so close before. May I ask you a question?â You surged and replied
âSure.â Your lover let out a sharp exhale, to which the yautja took notice.
âRight!â he said, âMy name is Kaail 'aseigan, and I am your mate's apprentice.â You sent a look over to your âmateâ as if to say âyou didnât tell me about himâ. They did not return the look. âAbout my question?â He continued. You nodded. âAre all oomans so small?â
âNo, some are taller, and others are even smaller than me.â You ended with a smile, still clinging to ooman notions of politeness.Â
âWhat would you say is the smallest a ooman could get?â
âWell, babies typically start out about 19 inches. I think I heard of an adult who was a little over a foot tall once. As for how tall we can get, I've heard as much as eight feet.â Kaailâs eyes light up as his eyebrow ridge raised.
âCan oomans read minds!?â You struggled hard not to laugh. In your attempt to be polite and courteous, you had answered what you were certain would be his next question without even thinking about it.
âNo, and we can't see the future either, we just have really good pattern recognition.â
âIs that why it's so hard to sneak up on an ooman?â
âProbably,â you shrugged. Your lover on the other hand, released a deep rumbling laugh and nodded their head. You lightly smacked their bicep earning you a curt snort. The two of you immediately started fighting to not laugh when Kaail pulled out a pen and paper notebook and started writing while mumbling âoomans are good at finding patterns, makes it very hard to sneak up on themâ. You heard the Elder let out a quiet sigh, while other members of the party shook their heads and looked away out of embarrassment.
âYou could probably notice, I am very interested in oomans,â he said as he put the notebook awayâ
âWhy you humor âem?â The familiar grating voice came from a familiar spot at the end of the table. âThat runt ainât got notâen special.â Kaail slumped in his seat and shoveled a mouth full of food between his mandibles. Your lover came to his defense
âLeave him alone, Amedha h'ulij-bpe.âÂ
âWhat you gonna do âbout it?â Your lover did not hesitate. You tried to grab their arm and pull them down, to no avail. Kaail tried to assuage him, but struggled to speak with the food in his mouth. Elder Thwei did absolutely nothing, sitting back in her chair she simply sipped her wine and watched. The two hunters stood and faced each other. Growls began to rumble from their chests. The tension tightened in your own chest as your mind raced with all the possible ways that this could go horribly wrong. Then Amedha whistled at you.
Warnings: Coming out, slight mentions of queerphobia, being nervous
Summary: You come out to your lover and fluff ensuesÂ
A/N: What kind of person would I be if I didnât at least post SOMETHING for pride month
You were probably more nervous than you needed to be, but that didnât stop you from being nervous. Your lover was an important part of your life and you loved them, so you had to tell them. But you were still worried about whether or not they would accept you.Â
You asked them to sit with you and they followed your command without any question. You started with the classic âI need to tell you somethingâ. They asked that it was without a hit of worry in their voice. Sucking in a breath you blurted it out quickly and braced for impact. Your lover simply tilted their head and asked what that meant.
You breathed again and explained it. You explained the definition of it, and then how you experienced it. They asked for even further elaboration, so you explained why you felt the way you did, how and why you had arrived at this conclusion, and even why you felt the need to tell them. They listened intently to all of it, nodding along and asking more questions. And yet they still sensed the discomfort you were in.Â
You explained why you were so nervous to tell them. That there were people who did not accept you. Your lover immediately jumped to attacking anyone who personally had a problem with you, but you calmed them. Explaining further that there was a very loud group who were very open about despising you and others like you, and that because of that you have become a bit afraid to talk about it unless you are absolutely sure that the other person is supportive of you. Your lover held you and let you know that they would always accept you no matter how many words you used to describe yourself. They would never waiver, they would never falter, they would always remain yours.
Warnings: Fuff, depictions of ADHD, depictions of social rejection
Summary: Your lover thinks you are strange for your species, but loves you regardless.Â
A/N: OMG! I have ADHD too! Why did I not think of this!?
When your lover started dating you they had a lot of biases about ooman that they had to unlearn. They had been taught that oomans were fragile yet intelligent creatures, they knew that oomans were primitive but creative, and that they were highly social and very dangerous in groups. But after spending time with you a lot of their preconceived notions were challenged.
You were not fragile. You would regularly trip, fall, and bump into just about everything. Your lover was very concerned about this at first, but whenever it happened you would just walk it off like it was nothing. You would even laugh about it. Much to their unending confusion. Occasionally they would find cuts, scrapes, and bruises in random places on your body and ask how that happened. All you could do was shrug.
Your lover had hunted oomans before, so they knew just how intelligent they could be. So when you repeatedly forgot important items, or tasks they began to question if you were just one of the less intelligent ones. Every species has them. But as time went on and they grew to understand you more, they came to know that you were not stupid, you just struggled with some things. You seemed to have a brilliant mind for problem solving, even exceeding other examples of your species. Not to mention how long you could go on talking about your favorite topics. They adore the way you lit up as you talked. They do still often need to remind you about items and tasks, but they understand that everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Every day they understand yours more and more.
Your lover did tend to look down on ooman technology. To you, your phone was the most advanced device in the universe. It helps you keep track of important things, such as events and chores, and it can access the sum of all ooman knowledge in just seconds. But to your lover it was nothing more than a light up brick. But they did admire the creativity with which you used your primitive tools. Such as throwing on some music and suddenly being able to conjure the ability to do the dishes. You also used your creativity in other fascinating ways. Any and all artistic pursuits are revered by your lover. Art is not common in yautja culture, the art they do have though is highly symbolic and ceremonial. They love listening to you talk about the choices you made while making any given piece and find the concept of art for art's sake fascinating .Â
One of the things that confused your lover the most was how you socialized. You seemed to really struggle talking to other oomans. You would start with your usual high energy, but the other ooman would quickly show their disinterest, causing you to get very discouraged and end the conversation very quickly. You also had a tendency to do, what you called, âovershareâ. Your lover treasured any time when you would tell them everything on a given topic, whether that was how your day was or about the documentary you had just watched. The ooman on the receiving end of the oversharing however, would usually make their âdiscomfortâ known. Your lover would quickly get angry at whoever was icing you out, because they knew that you were just sociable and wanted to talk. Sometimes though you would avoid talking to people all together for all the above reasons. But in other, seemingly similar interactions, you could easily talk to another person like they were already your best friend. For some reason they would match your energy perfectly and the two of you would create a tight bond, only to go your separate ways and never talk again.Â
There was one simple explanation for all of this that your lover was completely unaware of. Unaware of, until one day. The two of you were having dinner and having a conversation when they said something that caught you a little bit off guard.Â
âYou are a strange example of your species.â
âWhat do you mean by that?â You asked.Â
âWellâŠâ They thought for a moment, choosing their next words carefully. âYou are constantly getting injured, but somehow end up fine. You are fiercely intelligent, but still manage to forget small things. You are incredibly creative, and industrious, but struggle with interpersonal communication, until you do not? It is just⊠you act strange for a ooman.â You blinked a few times, trying to figure out if you should be offended or not. Then you laughed.
âHave I not told you I have ADHD?â
âWhat?â
âADHD, it stands for attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, although it's really more of an attention regulation disorder rather than a deficit. Basically it affects how my brain works and, yeah it affects everything you mentioned.â
âSo you are not a normal ooman!â
âNo,â you giggled again.Â
âThat is all right though,â they said before you could continue. âI like the way you are, strange ooman.â
Hey is it okay if you could do a Yautja with a blacksmith s/o?
Yautja x Blacksmith Reader
Yautja x Blacksmith GN! Reader
Word count: 301
Warnings: Fuff
Summary: Your lover loves and supports your blacksmithing work
A/N: Pretty short, but pretty sweet
Blacksmithing is not a normal profession in this day and age, but thatâs exactly what you love about it. You loved being able to make unique items in an unusual way, and other people loved it too. But no one loved it more than your lover.
Blacksmiths are highly respected in yautja culture as they support the hunters. Without their skills hunters would have no armor or weapons. Your work was fairly rudimentary compared to what the yautja blacksmiths could do, but your lover would neve say that to you. They loved your work.
They will regularly ask you to make something from them. Sometimes they want something specific, other times they just want something that you made. They have asked you once or twice to make repairs to their armor. Patching holes and shoring up joints. Small things that if left unintended could lead to greater failure, but not enough to go all the way back to yautja prime just to get it fixed.Â
They would love helping out around the shop. They know that you're strong, but they still offer to carry any and all heavy objects. And by heavy, I don't mean what you consider heavy, I mean what they think humans find heavy. Essentially anything over 15 lb (6 kg). They can be a big help when directed in a constructive way. But they can just as easily be annoying when they constantly ask to help.Â
But no matter how badly they hover over you as you work, or how much they insist on carrying everything. At the end of the day they will always gush over your work, they will brag about you to anyone that will listen, and they will proudly display any work of yours that they have, because they love everything you do.Â
Can I pleaseeee get a Yautja x Shapeshifter reader? I feel like a Yautja not being able to find their S/O, which then reveals themself to have just been a cat, sounds so funny.
Yautja x Shapeshifter Reader
Yautja x Shapeshifter GN! Reader
Word count: 371
Warnings: Nothing, just fluff
Summary: You didnât realize your lover didnât know about your power until they couldn't find you
A/N: Sorry for letting this sit for so long. I sort of lost my mojo after getting sick
Having been able to shapeshift all your life, you didn't think of it as anything extraordinary, it was just something that you could do. A skill like any other, and definitely not something to brag about or show off. You hadn't even realized that your lover didn't know about it until⊠the incident. It's not like you just went around telling him everything you could do. For instance, you could reach the outlet two feet away without getting out of your bed, but it doesn't mean that they need to know.Â
You regularly used your shapeshifting to your advantage, usually to make yourself more comfy. So one sunny Saturday morning you decided that you would just turn into a cat and curl up in a sun beam. The hard floor always felt better as a cat, and the warm spot heated your entire body. Moments like this felt like heaven, and you easily fell asleep.Â
You were woken up to the sunbeam a foot and a half to the left and your lover stomping around. You stretched and yawned before moving back into the sun and watching them. They kept moving back and forth, seemingly looking for something. You figured they had misplaced their helmet, or other piece of the armor and flopped down to continue enjoying your warm spot. Only to be picked up by your lover and interrogated.Â
âWHO ARE YOU, AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY STAR!â
You couldnât help but erupt in human laughter as you shifted back. You were being held by your armpits and giggling furiously as your lover tilted their head from one side to the other.Â
âWhat?â they asked. Still confused and now a little hurt that you were laughing so hard.
âI'm sorry love,â you responded, âI guess you didnât know that I could do that?â Effortlessly, they shifted you in their arms until you were cradled to their chest. You took this opportunity to demonstrate, turning yourself into a bunny and twitching your nose at them. At that they relaxed.Â
âI⊠was looking for you, and. I could not find you anywhere.â Their voice was steeped in sadness. Shifting back, you reassured them.
âIâm sorry. I wasnât trying to hide. I'm glad you found me.â
Ok let me start by apologysing to everyone I've been ignoring, I'm so sorry. Here's what happened I got sick for like two and a half weeks, and then completely lost my mojo, but I'm BACK so expect some writings comming in the next few days! I'll start by clearing my requests and then I'll get on with finishing 'Meeting the Clan' part 2, followed by some fics from new fandoms. Sound good? Good!
Heyy! Can I get a Yautja x Contortionist reader? he just walks in and the S/O is doing some mundane task like reading, but they're on the floor, and their in the chest stand face frame position or something
Yautja x Contortionist reader
Yautja x GN! reader
Word count: 516
Warnings: Body Contortion
Summary: after thoroughly freaking out your lover with your contortion moves, you offer them a private show to make up for it
A/N: Yaâll and your ideas istg. Welp⊠this is just something short and sweet for you, enjoy!
It's not like you were trying to keep it a secret, it had just never come up. It's not even that important, contortion was just some skill you picked up. It did make certain things easier. Whenever there was a tight space that needed to be squeezed into, everybody knew to call you. It also made cuddling with your lover much easier, as you could get comfy in any position.Â
Your lover, to their credit, did find it odd that you seemingly enjoyed the strange positions that you would get yourself into. But they just shrugged it off as weird ooman things. That is until it got worse.Â
You were literally just reading. Nevermind the fact that you were standing on your chest with your legs in the air, holding your head up with your hands. For a moment your lover just stared at you, trying to figure out how exactly you were doing it. Then you shifted, your whole body wiggled and your legs swung back and forth. You appeared for just a moment to be falling over and that was enough for your lover to rush over to catch you, only for you to have already righted yourself. For a moment you forgot the strange position you were in and just stared back at them as if they were the crazy one, before realizing that you are, in fact, not normal.Â
You quickly tucked your legs and gracefully fell backward onto your knees, your lover panicked and tried to stop you from falling, only to accidentally smack you in the face. They cursed themselves in their own language for hurting you and cupped your face to inspect the damage. In reality it had been a light smack, and a brief graze of their claws. There was hardly even any redness on your skin.Â
You, for all your ooman weirdness, laughed. You could only imagine how strange you must have looked to someone who, not only had never seen a contortion trick before, but who also didn't fully understand human anatomy. Your lover did not appreciate this, and proceeded to sulk about 'only wanting to help'. You assured them that you weren't laughing at them, but at the situation.Â
After the both of you had claimed down a bit you offered your lover a private show, to which they eagerly agreed. It was the most unusual display you had ever put on as your lover insisted on being as close as possible 'just in case' you fell. And occasionally when your body would wobble they would rest their hands on you, which actually made things more difficult. Not to mention all the questions they asked you about how you were doing a certain trick, and if it hurt to put yourself in such positions. Ever patient as you are, you answered their earnest questions with earnest answers. To end the performance, your final trick was to cartwheel directly into their lap. You immediately regret how cheesy it was, but that thought quickly faded as your lover roared in appreciation and held you in their arms.Â
