✦𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕓𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥✦

yautja x oc, polyandry, multiple male lovers and one female lover.

part one | part two | part three

———

Ryia did not think. She reacted. The second An’tui stepped into the hallway with those terrifying blades extended from his wrist, instinct overrode fear. If Louis walked into that backyard honking like an idiot and saw a seven-foot alien warrior charging toward him, there would be nothing left of him but a cautionary tale. “Wait!” she whisper-yelled, scrambling after him as he moved with predatory speed down the stairs. “He’s not a threat! He’s just loud and dramatic!”

An’tui did not slow. His strides were silent despite his size, and it struck her how unnatural that was. Something built that heavily should not move without sound. It should creak, thud, disturb the air. He did none of that. He was fluid. The honking outside grew more aggressive, each press of the horn stretching longer than the last. Louis always did that when he was impatient. Or nervous. Or bored. Or all three at once. An’tui reached the lower level and paused near the back exit. His head tilted slightly, as though he were listening to something beyond human range. The blades along his wrists gleamed faintly in the afternoon light filtering through the windows. “An’tui,” Ryia said more urgently now, reaching him and grabbing at his arm without thinking. It was solid. Immovable. “Please. That’s my friend.”

Before he could respond, the wall near the far end of the room shimmered faintly. Ra’kar stepped through the distortion first. Even without fully understanding their hierarchy, Ryia felt the shift in atmosphere immediately. An’tui was alert. Vikap was volatile. T’edqah was analytical. Va’tha was observant. But Ra’kar—

Ra’kar commanded space.

His presence was controlled power, not explosive like Vikap’s, but coiled and deliberate. His gaze moved from An’tui’s extended blades to Ryia’s grip on his arm and then toward the back of the house where the honking continued. “What is it?” Ra’kar asked, his translator smoothing the edges of his voice but not the depth of it. “There is a potential threat,” An’tui replied. “Unknown human. Persistent noise.” “It’s Louis,” Ryia blurted. “He’s harmless. He talks too much, he flirts with anything that breathes, and he cannot fight to save his life.” The horn blasted again. Vikap appeared next, already irritated, mandibles flexing. “Another?” he growled. “You bring more prey?” “I didn’t bring him!” she snapped, immediately regretting the tone but too stressed to retract it. “He’s here because I called him.”

Ra’kar’s gaze returned to her. “You summoned another.” “Yes, because I thought I was going to die!” There was no exaggeration in her voice. For a split second, something unreadable passed through Ra’kar’s eyes. Outside, a car door slammed. Ryia’s stomach dropped. Louis’ voice carried faintly through the glass. “Ryia? If this is a prank, I swear to God—” The cloaking field flickered. Vikap moved first. He didn’t wait for instruction. He strode toward the exit just as the outer ramp began lowering with a mechanical hiss. “Vikap,” Ra’kar warned. But Vikap was already outside. Ryia ran for the window, dread pooling in her chest. Through the glass she saw Louis step forward, squinting at the distortion in the air. His expression shifted from annoyance to confusion as the shimmer thickened and then—

Vikap decloaked fully in front of him. There was a suspended second where Louis simply stared. Then— “WHAT THE FUCK?!” The shout tore through the yard. Louis stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his own feet. Vikap closed the distance in two strides and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him clean off the ground. Louis made a strangled noise as his hands clawed uselessly at Vikap’s wrist. Ryia’s breath left her body. “No!” she screamed, bolting for the door. An’tui followed immediately, though whether to restrain her or support Vikap she did not know. By the time she reached the yard, Vikap had Louis suspended in the air, wrist blades extended dangerously close to his throat. Louis’ face had gone pale, shock overtaking the initial panic. His body trembled violently. “He saw us,” Vikap snarled. “He dies.” “Put him down!” Ryia shouted, stepping between them before she could second-guess herself. An’tui tensed beside her, clearly not pleased with her positioning. Vikap’s gaze dropped to her. “Move.”

“No.” The single word surprised even her. Ra’kar exited the ship last, his steps measured as he assessed the scene. Va’tha followed behind him, quieter but alert. “He’s not a soldier. He’s not a threat,” Ryia continued, her voice shaking but steady enough. “He’s a doctor. He faints at blood. He once cried because a pigeon limped.” Louis tried to speak but could only wheeze. Vikap’s grip tightened. Ra’kar’s voice cut through the tension. “Release him.” Vikap did not immediately obey.“He has seen us,” he argued. “This complicates matters.” “And killing him complicates them further,” Ra’kar replied evenly. The pause stretched. Then, reluctantly, Vikap released him. Louis dropped to the ground in a graceless heap, coughing violently and scrambling backward until he hit the side of his car. His wide eyes darted between all five of them before landing on Ryia.

“You said aliens,” he rasped. “You did not say gym demons with knives.” “Inside,” she muttered, grabbing his arm and hauling him toward the house before Vikap could change his mind. Louis did not resist. Once inside, he began pacing immediately, hands flying through his hair. “Okay. Okay. So. I’m not hallucinating. That’s good. That’s step one. Step two—why are there five of them?” “They crashed,” she said quickly. “They’re fixing their ship.” “And step three?” he asked faintly. “They were debating killing me yesterday.”He froze mid-step.

Ra’kar ducked slightly as he entered through the doorway, his height forcing him to adjust to the ceiling clearance. The others followed, though Vikap remained closer to the exit, clearly irritated. Louis looked like he might pass out. Ra’kar’s gaze moved between the two humans. “This situation has escalated.” “You think?” Louis whispered. Ryia shot him a look. Va’tha observed quietly from the edge of the room, his attention lingering on Ryia’s throat where faint bruising had begun to surface. His posture shifted subtly, something tightening beneath the armor. Ra’kar addressed them both. “You will not leave the vicinity until repairs are complete.” “That is not how free will works,” Louis said weakly. Ra’kar ignored him. Ryia crossed her arms despite the tremor in them. “You can’t just keep us here.” “You cannot unsee us,” Ra’kar replied. Silence settled over the room, heavy and complicated. Louis looked at her slowly. “I was having such a normal day.” “You honked,” she muttered. “You said they were hot.”

Vikap made a disgusted clicking sound. The tension thickened again, but this time it wasn’t immediate violence. It was something else — negotiation, calculation, territory shifting. And for the first time since waking up on that metal slab, Ryia realized something important.

They hadn’t killed her.

They could have. Multiple times. But they hadn’t. And now, with Louis here, the balance had shifted in ways none of them were fully prepared for.

———

The room did not calm after Louis stopped coughing. If anything, the silence became sharper, more dangerous — the kind of silence that existed before a decision was made that could not be undone. Louis stood near the kitchen counter now, gripping the edge of it like it might anchor him to reality. His gaze moved between each Yautja slowly, carefully, as if sudden movements might trigger something primal. Vikap remained near the exit, arms folded, mandibles twitching in clear irritation. An’tui stood slightly forward, blades now retracted but posture still guarded. T’edqah’s head tilted faintly, studying Louis like a specimen rather than a person. Va’tha said nothing. But he watched Ryia. Not hungrily. Not possessively. Observationally. And that restraint cost him more than he would ever admit.

Ra’kar stepped further into the room, claiming its center without effort. “You have brought another complication,” he said, voice steady through the translator. “Explain why we should allow him to live.” Louis made a small noise of protest, but Ryia’s jaw tightened. “Because he’s human. Because he didn’t ask to see you. Because this entire situation started with you landing in my backyard.” Vikap made a sharp clicking sound. “You speak boldly for prey,” he said. She turned to him, anger flashing despite the lingering soreness in her throat. “You grabbed me by the neck yesterday. If I was prey, I’d already be dead.” The room shifted. Subtle, but noticeable. Va’tha’s gaze flicked to Vikap briefly, and Ra’kar’s expression did not change, but something calculated moved behind his eyes.

Louis slowly lifted a hand. “I just want to clarify that I personally do not want to be dead.” T’edqah ignored him entirely. “His heart rate is elevated but stable. He will not faint.” “That’s comforting,” Louis muttered, and An’tui’s attention remained fixed on Ryia. He could hear the strain in her breathing even now, faint irregularities that suggested lingering stress. His scans had already recorded microfractures in the delicate tissue of her throat. Vikap had applied more pressure than necessary. He did not like that. He did not know why he did not like that.

Ra’kar broke the silence. “You summoned him. You place value on his survival.” “Yes.” “And if he speaks of us?” “He won’t.” Louis blinked. “I absolutely will—” Ryia stepped on his foot hard. He inhaled sharply. “—I will not.” Vikap’s mandibles flared in irritation. “Humans lie.” “So do Yautja,” she shot back before thinking. The air went still again. Va’tha felt something shift in his chest. Not attraction. Not yet. But interest. She did not tremble when she was angry. She did not crumble under threat. She had stood between Vikap and Louis without hesitation. She was fragile in body, yes — they had all seen that — but her defiance was not weak. That unsettled him. It unsettled Ra’kar more.

Ra’kar studied her for a long moment before speaking again. “We cannot remain cloaked indefinitely. Repairs will require hours.” “Then let him leave before that,” Ryia said quickly. “He can go. He won’t bring anyone back.” Louis nodded aggressively. “I won’t even drive past this neighborhood again.” Vikap growled. “He has seen our ship.” An’tui finally spoke, tone measured. “Then we escort him beyond the perimeter and monitor him until departure.” Ra’kar did not respond immediately. His gaze shifted to Va’tha. It was subtle, but it was there. Second in authority. Va’tha straightened slightly under that silent inquiry. He considered the options not emotionally, but strategically. Killing Louis would eliminate risk. It would also destabilize Ryia further. A distressed human was unpredictable. And unpredictability around an injured vessel was inefficient. “Let him leave,” Va’tha said evenly. “We track his movement until he exits the area. If he returns with others, we eliminate him then.”

Louis’ eyes widened. “That feels conditional.” “It is,” Vikap replied flatly. Ra’kar inclined his head once. Decision made. “You will leave,” Ra’kar told Louis. “You will speak to no one of what you have witnessed. If you do, we will know.” Louis swallowed. “You… will know?” T’edqah tapped something on his gauntlet. A faint projection flickered briefly — a thermal image of Louis standing in the room. “We can track you,” T’edqah said calmly. Louis looked faint. Ryia stepped closer to him, lowering her voice. “Just go. Please.” For a moment, he looked at her differently. Not joking. Not dramatic. Concerned. “You’re staying?” “I don’t have a choice.” His jaw tightened, but he nodded once. “Okay.”

Ra’kar gestured toward the door. An’tui moved first, escorting Louis outside. Vikap followed a step behind, clearly volunteering himself in case elimination became necessary. Va’tha lingered. Ryia became aware of it slowly. The room felt larger once the others stepped out, but not safer. She crossed her arms, trying to contain the tremor she did not want him to see. He was quieter than the rest. More contained. His presence did not press like Vikap’s or command like Ra’kar’s. It lingered. “You are unafraid,” Va’tha said at last. She let out a soft, humorless sound. “That’s not true.” “You stood between Vikap and the other human.” “That was instinct.” “That is still courage.” She didn’t know what to do with that.

Outside, Louis was being escorted to his car. An’tui stood close enough to intervene. Vikap stood close enough to intimidate. T’edqah remained near the ramp, monitoring readings. Ra’kar observed everything. Louis got into his car with shaking hands. The engine started. The vehicle reversed slowly. No one moved until it reached the end of the road. T’edqah’s gauntlet lit up faintly. “He is departing.” Ra’kar gave a single nod. “Maintain tracking until he reaches the highway,” he ordered. An’tui remained outside. Vikap retracted his blades. Va’tha finally stepped away from Ryia, but not before his gaze lingered once more on the faint bruising at her throat.

Restraint. It was an ancient discipline among their kind. Control before conquest. Evaluation before claim. And yet something about this human tested that discipline in unfamiliar ways. Not lust. Not possession. Curiosity. Strength wrapped in fragility. Defiance wrapped in fear.

Back inside the house, Ryia exhaled slowly once Louis’ car disappeared from view. The adrenaline crash hit her hard. Her knees weakened and she leaned against the counter for support. Ra’kar entered again, presence filling the doorway. “He is gone.” “For now,” she murmured. “For now,” he agreed. The unspoken part lingered between them. You remain. She did. And the ship repairs were not finished. Hours stretched ahead. Shared space. Unavoidable proximity. Vikap disappeared back toward the ship without another word, irritation still simmering beneath his skin. T’edqah followed, likely to continue diagnostics. An’tui remained outside momentarily before re-entering, posture relaxed but eyes alert. Ra’kar did not leave. Neither did Va’tha.

Ryia noticed. She straightened slowly. “So… what now?” Ra’kar considered her carefully. “Now we wait.” The simplicity of it unsettled her more than violence had. Waiting meant interaction. It meant silence filled with observation. It meant being seen. And somewhere beneath the tension, beneath the fear, beneath the very human instinct to survive — something else was beginning to form. Not affection. Not desire. Awareness. Five warriors trained for centuries in discipline and conquest were now confined within the space of a single human home. A human who had stood her ground. A human who had not broken. And for beings who prided themselves on strength, that mattered.

Outside, the cloaked ship hummed softly as repairs continued. Inside, the distance between predator and human did not shrink. But it did not widen either. And restraint — slow, deliberate, dangerous restraint — settled into the air like a promise.

———

The waiting did not remain passive for long. Repairs required tools, space, and energy recalibration, which meant movement between ship and house became unavoidable. Ra’kar established a perimeter without formally announcing it, positioning An’tui near the exterior entry and assigning T’edqah to diagnostic monitoring. Vikap disappeared into the ship more often than the others, though whether that was for mechanical work or distance from her was unclear. Va’tha remained in the house. Not close, but present. Ryia tried to act normal. She failed.

The absurdity of alien warriors occupying her kitchen while discussing energy matrices in a language layered with clicking undertones would have been comical under different circumstances. Instead, it felt surreal. Every movement she made was monitored, not in a predatory way anymore, but in a calculating one. They were assessing risk, behavior, stability. She tried to busy herself. She wiped counters that were already clean. She opened the fridge and stared into it without processing what was inside. Her throat still ached faintly when she swallowed. She could feel their awareness of that too.

Eventually, Ra’kar spoke. “You require sustenance.” She blinked at him. “I can feed myself.” “That was not a challenge.” She inhaled slowly. “I know.” Va’tha observed the exchange quietly. There was something fragile about her pride. It flared quickly, like it expected to be crushed if it did not defend itself first. She made a sandwich. Five warriors watched her assemble bread and fillings like it was a ritual. Vikap returned midway through, irritation still clinging to him. He leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, gaze lingering on her longer than before. Not soft. Not curious. Conflicted. She felt it.

“You stare a lot for someone who hates me,” she muttered under her breath. His mandibles twitched. “You speak much for someone who should not.” “See? That.” An’tui made a quiet sound that almost resembled amusement. Hours passed. The sun lowered gradually, the golden light shifting to muted orange through the windows. With night approaching, the hum of their cloaked vessel grew slightly louder as repairs intensified. And then Ryia realized something. She hadn’t showered.

The thought hit her with sudden, uncomfortable clarity. She still smelled faintly of fear and metallic air from the ship. Her skin felt wrong. Sticky. Foreign. And the idea of sleeping like that — under their watch — made her stomach twist. But showering meant vulnerability. It meant enclosed space. It meant noise that could drown out approaching footsteps. She swallowed. “I need to…” She hesitated, hating that she felt the need to announce it. “Shower.”

Five sets of eyes lifted. “It is unnecessary to inform us,” Ra’kar said. “I know. I just—” She stopped. “Never mind.” She moved quickly upstairs before she could overthink it. The second she reached her bedroom, her heart rate spiked. She shut the door and locked it, though she knew it would mean nothing if they wanted inside. She dragged her dresser slightly in front of it anyway. Then she paused. Windows. She crossed the room and closed her curtains fully, tugging them tight so not even a sliver of light remained visible from outside. She hesitated before grabbing an extra blanket and pinning it over the thin gap between fabric panels. Paranoid. But she needed control over something.

In the hallway outside, Va’tha’s head tilted slightly. He could hear the subtle shift of furniture, the quickened rhythm of her heartbeat through the thin barrier of walls. “She is distressed,” An’tui noted quietly from downstairs. “She seeks privacy,” Ra’kar corrected. Vikap said nothing.

Inside the bathroom, Ryia locked that door too. She turned the shower on and stepped back, letting the water run loudly. Steam began filling the small space quickly, fogging the mirror and curling along the ceiling. She exhaled shakily. “You are overreacting,” she muttered to herself. “They’ve seen blood. They’ve seen war. They do not care about you showering.” But they were not human, and she did not know their customs. She undressed quickly, stepping into the stream of hot water with a sharp inhale. The heat stung her throat slightly but grounded her. She scrubbed her skin harder than necessary, as if she could wash away the past twenty-four hours.

Downstairs, Vikap shifted. He had not intended to move. He told himself that. But the sound of running water — the change in environmental acoustics — drew his attention. Humans were loud in their rituals. Water striking tile. Subtle changes in air pressure. The scent of heated moisture drifting faintly through ventilation. His gaze lifted toward the upper level. Va’tha noticed. “Do not,” he said quietly. “I will not,” Vikap replied, mandibles tightening. But something unsettled him. He told himself it was irritation. The vulnerability of prey in close proximity. The distraction of scent and unfamiliar domestic patterns. It was not curiosity. It was not.

Upstairs, the steam thickened. Ryia moved quickly, aware of every sound the house made. She kept the curtain fully drawn, though she knew the bathroom window was small and already covered. Her movements were efficient, not lingering. She just wanted to feel clean, to feel like herself for a few minutes. She did not hear the subtle shift in the hallway. Vikap had not intended to ascend. He had only meant to reposition himself for perimeter scanning. That was the reasoning he gave himself. But as he reached the upper landing, he paused. The door to her bedroom was shut. The light beneath it was faint. He could hear the water. He told himself he was assessing threat potential. Nothing more.

Inside the bathroom, Ryia turned to grab her towel. The steam had grown thick enough that the mirror was completely opaque. She reached out to turn off the water— and the bathroom light flickered. Her heart jumped violently. “Are you kidding me?” she whispered. The power cut. The house fell dark. Downstairs, T’edqah looked up sharply. “Energy fluctuation from ship draw. Temporary.” Ra’kar swore under his breath in his native tongue. Upstairs, the sudden darkness sent Ryia’s pulse racing. The only light now came from faint moonlight filtering through the covered curtains. The bathroom was shadowed, heavy with steam.

And then she heard it. A shift. Not loud. But there. Her breath caught. “Hello?” she called, hating the tremor in her voice. The bedroom door, which she had wedged partially with furniture, shifted slightly. Vikap had not meant to breach privacy. He had reacted to the energy drop, assuming threat. But when the power failed, the environmental cloaking inside the house flickered briefly as well. For half a second, his thermal vision adjusted — and he saw her silhouette through steam. Not detailed. Not graphic. Just a fragile human outline against heat and shadow. He froze. It was not desire that struck him. It was awareness. Humans were soft. Exposed. Unarmored.

He stepped back immediately. Va’tha appeared behind him silently. “Stand down,” he said lowly. “I detected a power shift,” Vikap replied, though his voice lacked its usual edge. “And you assessed it,” Va’tha said evenly. “Return below.” There was a beat of tension between them. Then Vikap turned away first.

Inside the bathroom, Ryia grabbed her towel quickly, wrapping it around herself with shaking hands. She stepped into her bedroom cautiously, scanning the darkness. The furniture had shifted slightly from her barricade. Her throat tightened. She did not know if someone had been there. She did not want to know. Downstairs, Ra’kar’s voice cut through the dimness. “The outage is temporary.” Moments later, the lights returned. Ryia remained still for several seconds before exhaling slowly. She dressed quickly this time — long sleeves, loose pants — covering as much skin as possible before unlocking her bedroom door.

When she descended the stairs, all five of them were present. Vikap did not look at her. Va’tha did. Ra’kar’s gaze assessed her once, briefly. “You are unharmed,” he stated. “Yes.” A pause. She crossed her arms unconsciously. Something had shifted. Not romantically. Not yet. But the awareness of vulnerability had been shared. And none of them were untouched by it. Vikap retreated back toward the ship shortly after, agitation evident in the tightness of his posture. He told himself it was disgust. Weakness irritated him. Exposure irritated him. Humans irritated him. He did not analyze the flicker of protectiveness that had cut through his instinct when the power dropped. Va’tha watched him go. Ra’kar watched both of them. And Ryia stood in her own living room, freshly showered, emotionally exhausted, acutely aware that the night had only just begun. Outside, the ship hummed louder as repairs neared completion. Inside, restraint tightened like a drawn wire. Slow. Controlled. Unavoidable.

- A

summary: the mark on your collarbone tells every hunter in the galaxy that you belong to a bad blood. when an honorable yautja finds you, he decides to kill the monster who claimed you. the only problem is… you never asked to be rescued.

the forest stayed quiet.

too quiet in a way that made the back of your neck itch. the canopy overhead filtered the fading sunlight into narrow green shafts that cut through the undergrowth, turning the air thick and dim beneath the towering trees. every sound seemed louder than it should have been—the crunch of leaves beneath your boots, the distant rustle of branches somewhere high above.

you walked between them, which felt ridiculous when you really thought about it. two alien hunters moved with you through the jungle as if this strange arrangement had always existed—one bad blood who had carved his mark into your skin without hesitation, and one honorable warrior who clearly still regretted not killing him when he had the chance. somehow, against all logic, you had become the center point neither of them would step away from.

leaves crunched softly under your boots as the three of you moved deeper through the forest. the bad blood walked slightly behind you, close enough that the heat of his massive body lingered against your back like a living wall—too close. you didn’t even need to look to know he was watching you. the honorable hunter noticed; his mandibles twitched in visible irritation before he moved forward, stepping a little closer to your other side as if correcting a formation that had been wrong from the start.

the two predators shifted around you with quiet precision, neither willing to give the other the better position. you sighed quietly and rubbed your face. “seriously?” neither of them answered. of course they didn’t.

the bad blood’s hand brushed your shoulder as you walked, claws gliding lightly across the fabric of your shirt—the contact deliberate, claiming. the honorable hunter’s head snapped toward the movement instantly. a low growl rolled through his chest in warning, deep enough that you felt the vibration in the air before you fully heard it. your yautja answered with a sharp clicking sound that carried unmistakable smugness. you rubbed your temple. “this is going to be a nightmare.”

they argued constantly—not with words you could understand, but with posture and subtle body language that spoke louder than any language barrier. growls, small shifts in stance, the tilt of a head or the flex of mandibles—the quiet language of predators who had spent their entire lives competing for dominance. the honorable hunter kept a careful distance from the bad blood, not out of fear, but out of restraint.

the first night proved that much. you had barely settled beside a small fire when the bad blood dropped a heavy carcass at your feet. the body hit the dirt with a dull thud, steam still rising from the fresh kill. he crouched beside you immediately after, massive shoulders hunched forward as he watched your reaction with unsettling intensity—waiting, expectant. you blinked down at the offering. “you want… approval?” a low pleased rumble answered you. you laughed quietly. “okay. good job.”

across the clearing the honorable hunter had been watching the entire exchange; his mandibles tightened slowly. after a moment he stood and disappeared into the trees without a sound. you frowned. “did i offend him?” the bad blood made a dismissive clicking noise. jealous.

before you could say anything else, the forest rustled again. the honorable hunter returned and dropped something at your feet—a much larger carcass, cleanly killed, perfectly placed. you stared at it, then at him. “…are you competing?” the bad blood snarled instantly. the honorable hunter said nothing, but his mandibles lifted slightly in silent challenge. you covered your mouth to hide your grin. “oh my god you are.”

the mark burned more often now—not painfully, just warm, alive. sometimes you noticed the honorable hunter staring at it when he thought you weren’t looking; his gaze always hardened when the bad blood touched it, which he did often—too often. a hand on your shoulder, your neck, your back, always reminding the other hunter exactly who had marked you first.

one afternoon you finally caught the honorable hunter staring. “you hate it,” you said. his gaze lifted. “bad blood,” the translator rasped. “dishonor.” you looked down at the scar along your collarbone; sunlight filtered through the leaves above, catching the faint ridges of the mark. “maybe,” you said.

the bad blood appeared beside you in a shimmer of cloaking—instantly, as if summoned by the conversation. his hand closed around the back of your neck again. the honorable hunter’s mandibles flared. “see?” you said dryly. “this is what i deal with.” the bad blood rumbled proudly. the honorable hunter looked like he wanted to throw him off a cliff.

the confrontation finally came two nights later. the fire had burned low and the jungle hummed quietly around the clearing. you were half asleep when a sharp growl snapped you awake. the two hunters stood facing each other across the fire, their bodies tense, mandibles spread. the bad blood’s claws rested against your shoulder—possessive. the honorable hunter’s gaze locked onto the gesture; anger flickered across his features. he stepped closer. the bad blood growled low in warning.

you sat up quickly. “hey.” neither of them looked at you. the honorable hunter reached forward suddenly, his hand closing around your shoulder near the mark—not roughly, but firmly. his mandibles flared as he studied the burn again. the bad blood surged to his feet instantly; a deep roar tore from his chest. you grabbed his arm. “stop.”

both predators froze. your voice cut through the tension. slowly the honorable hunter leaned down and pressed his mandibles gently against your skin. the second mark burned into your collarbone beside the first. heat spread through your chest like liquid fire. the bad blood went perfectly still. for a long moment the clearing held its breath.

then the bad blood stepped closer. his arm slid around your waist—not pushing the other hunter away, holding you between them. shared.

later that night the ritual began. the honorable hunter knelt first—slowly, deliberately—his claws brushing lightly across both marks along your collarbone. the touch sent a strange warmth through your chest again—not pain, something deeper, something alive. the bad blood watched carefully, silent. after a moment he mirrored the movement. both hunters lowered their heads toward the marks—recognition, respect. a quiet series of clicks and low rumbles passed between them, a language older than anything the translator could interpret.

the air around you felt charged, as if the jungle itself had grown still. you swallowed. “…wait.” your voice came out quiet. “…does this mean what i think it means?” the translator crackled softly. “mate.” you froze. “…oh.” the bad blood rumbled in approval.

but something else happened then. the warmth in the marks spread—slowly, like a pulse moving through your chest and down your spine. both hunters stilled immediately, their heads lifting, watching you, feeling it too. their hands moved instinctively—one resting against your back, the other against your chest over the marks. the bond settled quietly into place—not chains, not ownership, something deeper: recognition, connection.

the bad blood’s rumble softened. the honorable hunter’s mandibles lowered slightly. for the first time since you met them, they looked calm—as if something fundamental had finally resolved itself. you exhaled slowly. “…so this is permanent, isn’t it?” two low rumbles answered you.

the realization changed everything—not immediately, but gradually. their rivalry did not disappear; it simply shifted. they still watched each other carefully, still competed, still growled when one lingered too long near you, but the hostility had faded into something closer to guarded respect. because now the bond tied all three of you together.

the bad blood still preferred keeping you close against his chest—his arms heavy around your waist, his head lowered near your shoulder. but the honorable hunter no longer kept his distance; he sat closer now, his large hand resting against your thigh or back. both hunters watched your reactions carefully, studying every small movement, learning you.

the fire flickered softly in the darkness. their hands moved slowly along your arms and shoulders—warm, steady, never rushing. the bad blood nuzzled the side of your neck; the honorable hunter’s fingers brushed lightly over the second mark. a quiet rumble passed between them—agreement. you leaned back slightly into the bad blood’s chest. the honorable hunter shifted closer until his shoulder pressed lightly against yours.

your breath caught—not from fear, from the awareness of them. both of them. two hunters. two mates. watching you with patient focus. their touches continued—slow, patient—as if they had all the time in the world. and for the first time since the hunt began, their attention wasn’t about claiming you or protecting you. it was about keeping you. together.

dawn broke with a hiss—not from the jungle, from something darker. the bad blood stirred first, his head snapping up, mandibles flaring as he scented the air. the honorable hunter followed a heartbeat later; both rose to their full heights, cloaks shimmering into activation as they scanned the trees.

you sat up, heart pounding. “what—” a screech pierced the morning mist. xenomorphs. a small group—four of them—burst from the undergrowth, tails whipping, acid blood dripping from jagged mouths. sleek and lethal scouts, drawn perhaps by the night’s noises or the scent of fresh bonds.

the hunters moved as one—no rivalry now, only unity. the bad blood lunged first, his combi-stick extending with a metallic whine, spearing the lead xenomorph through its elongated skull. acid sprayed, but he twisted away, the fluid sizzling harmlessly on the ground. he roared, yanking the weapon free as the creature convulsed and died.

the honorable hunter flanked, his shoulder cannon whirring to life; plasma bolts fired in rapid succession. one xenomorph exploded mid-leap, chitin scattering like shrapnel. another dodged, tail lashing out to impale him, but he caught it mid-air, claws crushing the appendage as he slammed the beast into a tree trunk. his wrist blades extended, slicing through its neck in a spray of corrosive blood that he avoided with predatory grace.

the last two charged together—one aiming for you. but they were faster. the bad blood intercepted the first, tackling it to the ground, claws ripping into its exoskeleton. the honorable hunter joined, his blades finishing the job with a decapitating strike. the final xenomorph lunged; the bad blood spun, driving his combi-stick through its chest while the honorable hunter’s plasma cannon ended it in a burst of green fire.

silence returned. bloodied but unharmed, they turned to you—checking, protecting. the bond thrummed stronger. unbreakable now.

after the fight, the adrenaline still sang in your veins. the bond pulsed hotter, deeper, drawing the three of you back to the clearing. the fire had died to embers, casting faint orange glows across the moss, but the heat came from them now—from the massive bodies flanking you, their scaled skin radiating warmth like sun-baked stone.

the bad blood moved first, his claws tracing the hem of your shirt with deliberate slowness, the tips grazing your bare stomach just enough to send a shiver racing up your spine. he rumbled low, a sound that vibrated through his chest and into yours where you leaned against him. you tilted your head back, meeting his gaze—those glowing eyes fixed on you with raw hunger, tempered now, shared. his mandibles parted slightly and he leaned down, pressing them against the first mark on your collarbone; the contact sparked heat, coiling low in your belly like a live wire. his tongue flicked out—rough and warm—lapping at the scar until your breath hitched.

the honorable hunter watched, eyes narrowing not in anger but in restrained desire. he shifted closer on your other side, his hand sliding up your thigh, claws retracting just enough to avoid scratching as he pushed your leg aside gently, opening you to them both. his touch was firmer, more controlled—fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, inching higher until they brushed the edge of your shorts. a low growl escaped him, vibrating the air, echoing in the bond, syncing with your quickening heartbeat.

“mine,” the translator rasped from the bad blood, but it wasn’t a challenge—it was an invitation. his hand slipped under your shirt to cup your breast, thumb circling the hardening nipple with surprising gentleness for such a brutal creature. “ours,” the honorable hunter corrected, voice steady but laced with heat. he leaned in, mandibles grazing the second mark, his longer, more precise tongue tracing the ridges until you arched against them both.

they undressed you together—movements synchronized now, cooperating in this new ritual. the bad blood tugged your shirt over your head, claws skimming your sides, while the honorable hunter worked your shorts down your hips, large hands engulfing your waist as he lifted you slightly to free the fabric. naked beneath them, the jungle air cool against your flushed skin, you felt exposed yet safe—their massive forms shielding you from everything else.

the bad blood took his turn first—perhaps because he’d marked you before, perhaps because his impatience won out. he pulled you fully into his lap, your back against his chest, legs draped over his thighs. his cock emerged from its sheath—thick and ridged, the length pressing hot and insistent against your lower back before he adjusted, guiding it between your legs. it was enormous, scaled like the rest of him, subtle barbs softened under arousal, designed to stimulate rather than harm. he rumbled deeply as he positioned the tip at your entrance, claws on your hips holding you steady.

you gasped as he pushed in slowly—inch by inch, stretching you to your limits. the ridges caught on every sensitive spot inside, sending sparks of pleasure-pain through your core. he was careful, almost reverent, mandibles nuzzling your neck as he bottomed out, filling you completely. “good,” he purred through the translator, hips rocking gently at first, building a rhythm that had you moaning softly, hands clutching his forearms for anchor.

the honorable hunter knelt before you, watching with hooded eyes, his own arousal evident as his cock unsheathed—similar in size but smoother, with a slight curve that promised different angles. he didn’t interrupt; instead his hand moved between your legs, claws fully retracted as his fingers found your clit, circling it in time with the bad blood’s thrusts. the dual sensation overwhelmed you—your body clenching around the bad blood as he picked up speed, growls growing rougher, more primal.

you came first like that, shattering around him with a cry that echoed into the morning light, walls pulsing against his ridges until he followed—roaring as he spilled deep inside you, hot and abundant, marking you from within.

he withdrew carefully, his spend leaking down your thighs, but there was no pause. the honorable hunter moved in seamlessly—lifting you from the bad blood’s lap and laying you back against the soft moss. he positioned himself above you, weight supported on one arm as he guided his cock to your entrance—still slick and open from the first. he entered you more steadily, the curve of him pressing against your front wall in a way that made stars burst behind your eyelids. his thrusts were measured, powerful—each one driving deep with precision that spoke of his honor, even here seeking perfection.

the bad blood watched from beside you, hand stroking your hair, mandibles clicking in approval as you writhed under the honorable hunter. but soon he joined again—fingers teasing your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples until you were gasping, overstimulated yet craving more.

they shifted then, pulling you up into a new position—sandwiched between them, standing now, your body held aloft by their strength. the bad blood behind you, his cock hard again already, pressing against your ass as he lifted you effortlessly. the honorable hunter in front, facing you, hands on your thighs spreading you wide. they entered you together this time—the bad blood sliding into your ass with careful pressure, ridges lubed by his earlier release, while the honorable hunter thrust back into your core.

the sensation was intense—fullness bordering on too much—their massive forms enveloping you completely. they moved in tandem—one pulling back as the other drove in—their growls mingling with your moans, the bond amplifying every touch, every slide of skin on skin. claws grazed your hips, mandibles nipped at your shoulders, tongues lapped at the marks on your collarbone. sweat slicked your body, mixing with their musky scent—earth and iron and something alien, intoxicating.

you came again—harder this time—your body convulsing between them as they held you steady, their rhythms faltering only when they followed, filling you from both sides until you dripped with them, claimed utterly.

they lowered you gently back to the ground afterward, curling around you protectively—their hands still roaming softly, soothing the aches with warm palms and low rumbles. the bond hummed contentedly, a shared pulse that lulled you toward rest—together, unbreakable.

-A

word count: 2,450 - 2,500 words

summary: the mark on your collarbone tells every hunter in the galaxy that you belong to a bad blood. when an honorable yautja finds you, he decides to kill the monster who claimed you. the only problem is… you never asked to be rescued.

warnings: alien claiming, possessive behaviour, power imbalance.

the mark burned again. not pain, not really. it hadn’t been pain in a long time. just heat under the skin. a slow, steady warmth sitting over your collarbone like an ember buried in flesh.

you touched it without thinking. the raised edges of the symbol dragged lightly under your fingers.

three long slashes curved inward around a small circle, carved deep enough that the skin would never forget it. the edges were ridged and pale where the wound had healed wrong, like thin rivers of scar tissue tracing the shape of a hunter’s claim. sometimes the skin still flushed faintly red around it when he was close.

a hunter’s mark. ownership. the first time he had carved it into you, the smell of your own blood had filled the clearing. the air had been thick with heat and the metallic scent of iron, and you had thought for a moment that he might kill you after. he hadn’t.

instead, he had pressed his clawed hand over the mark while it still bled, rumbling something deep in his chest that sounded almost… satisfied. you hadn’t understood then. now you did.

every yautja who saw it knew exactly what it meant.

claimed.

---

the forest was quiet. too quiet. the kind of silence that made the back of your neck prickle. wind slipped slowly through the branches above, stirring leaves in long whispering waves. somewhere far away a bird called once and then went silent again, as if it had thought better of making noise in territory that didn’t belong to it.

you had learned to listen the way he did. small sounds. the shift of leaves. the weight of something large stepping somewhere it shouldn’t. your yautja had taught you that much without ever trying. by watching. by surviving. by being dragged into a world where predators didn’t hide what they were. you straightened slowly.

“you’re close,” you muttered under your breath. as if saying it would summon him. sometimes it did.

sometimes you would only notice him when a shimmer appeared beside you and a massive hand settled against the back of your neck. sometimes he would simply appear, towering and silent, like he had been there the whole time. watching. today, something else answered. a clicking sound came from the trees.

not his. different. slower. measured. your stomach tightened.

another hunter stepped from the shadows.

he was taller than the one you knew, his armor darker and etched with clean, ceremonial lines. bone trophies hung from his shoulder plates, polished and carefully placed with obvious care. small symbols were carved into the plates themselves, marks of hunts completed and victories earned with honor. his mask tilted toward you.

the moment his gaze dropped to your collarbone, he froze.

a low growl vibrated from his chest. not aimed at you. at the mark. the device on his wrist crackled.“bad blood,” the translator rasped in a distorted mechanical voice. his mandibles flared open in disgust. you swallowed. “yeah,” you said quietly. “i figured someone would react like that eventually.” the hunter took a step closer.

his footsteps were deliberate, heavy enough that you could feel them through the ground.

his eyes moved between your face and the mark again. slowly. studying. measuring. trying to understand.

“human,” the translator said. “captured.”

“not exactly.”

his head tilted. confusion. you rubbed the back of your neck.

“it’s complicated.”

another low growl rolled through the trees. but this one you recognized instantly. your chest tightened. the honorable hunter heard it too. his posture shifted immediately. alert. ready. the forest shimmered.

a tall, broad shape uncloaked beside you.

your yautja.

he stepped forward, massive shoulders rolling under worn armor plates, dreadlocks shifting heavily against his back as he moved. dried trophies clinked faintly at his belt, fragments of past hunts that he had never bothered polishing.

his gaze landed on the other hunter. the clicking that followed was sharp and hostile.

the honorable hunter answered with a sound just as aggressive.

you sighed softly.

“great,” you muttered. “this is going to be a thing, isn’t it.”

your yautja moved closer to you. close enough that his arm brushed yours. a heavy hand settled against the back of your neck. possessive. claiming. his claws rested just barely against your skin, curved enough that you could feel their weight without being cut.

the honorable hunter’s mandibles flared again.

his gaze dropped to that hand. then to the mark.

his voice crackled through the translator.

“release the human.”

your yautja’s response was a deep, rumbling snarl. you didn’t need a translator for that one.

no.

the honorable hunter stepped forward.

“bad blood,” the device rasped.

his clawed hand lifted slightly toward you.

“human will be freed.”

your yautja’s grip tightened on your neck. not painful. just firm. a warning. jealous heat flared in your chest.

“i’m not a prisoner,” you said.

both hunters looked at you.

that was… unsettling.

two predators focusing on you at the same time.

their gazes were heavy, intelligent, and intensely aware of everything you did.

“i’m serious,” you continued. “i’m here because i want to be.”

the honorable hunter stared at you.

long enough that the forest felt like it was holding its breath. his gaze dropped again to the mark. the scarred symbol.

“mark is ownership,” the translator said.

“yeah.”

“human belongs to bad blood.”

you shrugged.

“technically.”

your yautja made a pleased clicking sound beside you. a sound that vibrated deep in his chest like quiet laughter.

the honorable hunter’s mandibles snapped in irritation.

“dishonor.”

“probably.”

the tension in the air thickened.

you felt it before either of them moved. your yautja shifted in front of you. the honorable hunter’s wrist blades extended with a metallic hiss. you groaned quietly.

“guys—”

the fight started anyway. they moved faster than your eyes could track. a blur of armor and claws and flashing metal. the honorable hunter swung first. your yautja caught the strike and slammed him backward into a tree hard enough to split bark and send splinters spraying across the clearing.

the forest exploded with noise. plasma fire lit the canopy in bursts of violent blue light.

cloaking fields flickered on and off as they circled each other like two storms colliding. you backed away quickly.

“okay,” you muttered, ducking behind a fallen log. “that escalated.”

the honorable hunter lunged again. blades slashing. your yautja met him head-on. they crashed together with a force that shook the ground.

a deep roar tore from your yautja’s chest when the other hunter tried to grab you during the struggle.

the honorable hunter paused.

just for a second.

his gaze flicked toward you. and you realized something.

he wasn’t trying to take you as a prize.

he was trying to pull you away. your yautja saw it too.

the growl that followed was pure fury.

he shoved the other hunter back with enough force to send him skidding across the clearing.

you stepped forward instinctively.

“stop it!”

both predators froze. slowly. the honorable hunter looked at you. really looked this time. not at the mark. at your face. your yautja stood beside you, breathing hard, shoulders tense.

his hand found your neck again. possessive. protective. jealous.

his claws shifted slightly when the honorable hunter took a step closer, as if he might drag you back behind him if needed.

the honorable hunter watched that gesture. and something in his expression shifted. confusion. realization.

“human,” the translator said slowly.

“yeah?”

“not afraid.”

you shook your head.

“no.”

the hunter stared at you a moment longer. then at the bad blood. the silence stretched. your yautja made a low clicking sound.

a challenge. the honorable hunter exhaled slowly. his blades retracted. the motion made your yautja tense again immediately.

you reached up and grabbed his wrist.

his massive hand stilled under your touch.

“relax,” you murmured.

the honorable hunter saw that too. a human. touching a bad blood without fear. standing beside him instead of running.

his mandibles twitched in visible frustration.

“dishonor,” he muttered again.

you smiled slightly.

“yeah. you mentioned.”

another long silence passed. then the honorable hunter spoke again.

“bad blood should die.”

your yautja rumbled agreement. which was… concerning. you sighed.

“but?”

the honorable hunter looked at you. then the mark. then the bad blood. his voice came through the translator again, slower this time.

“human chooses.”

your yautja stiffened.

clearly he didn’t love that concept. you crossed your arms.

“i’m not leaving.”

your yautja made a pleased sound again. a deep rumble that vibrated through the air.

the honorable hunter’s mandibles flared in irritation.

“human foolish.”

“maybe.”

another pause. then the hunter growled something in his own language. your yautja answered. short. sharp. argumentative. you looked between them.

“are you two negotiating?”

neither of them answered.

the honorable hunter finally stepped closer. not threatening. just… present. his gaze lingered on the mark again. then he reached out. your yautja immediately snarled.

the sound was so violent it made your chest vibrate. you grabbed his arm quickly.

“hey—hey.”

the honorable hunter stopped his hand a few inches from your skin. studying the mark.

“bad blood claim,” the translator murmured.

he straightened slowly. his shoulders rolled back in reluctant acceptance.

a low irritated rumble came from his chest.

“human under protection.”

you blinked.

“wait.”

he gestured toward himself. then toward the bad blood.

then toward you.

your yautja made an extremely smug clicking sound. you stared at them both.

“…you’re serious?”

the honorable hunter clearly hated the idea. his mandibles twitched in obvious disgust. but he did not take it back.

two predators stood on either side of you.

one possessive.

one reluctant.

both watching the forest like they were daring anything to come near.

you looked between them.

“…this is going to be weird, isn’t it.”

your yautja rumbled happily. the honorable hunter made a deeply annoyed sound.

and somewhere in the dark forest beyond the clearing, something moved.

but nothing came closer.

not with two hunters guarding the same marked prey.

- A

word count - 2,050–2,150 words

a little treat for yall before tomorrow ;). also a second final part can be done just say so and it shall be done.

It’s been a while… and I know this series has been sitting on hold longer than any of us expected. Life happened, motivation dipped, and I needed time to step back — but I never forgot about this story or the world we built together.

I’m officially back.

Writing feels right again. The ideas are flowing. The slow burn is burning. And I’m ready to give you the chapters this series deserves.

New chapters will begin dropping from Saturday. Expect tension. Expect restraint. Expect layered dynamics and the kind of emotional build that makes you scream into your pillow at 2am.

Thank you for being patient with me. Thank you for still caring. And thank you for sticking around.

We’re just getting started again. 🖤

— A.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

yautja x oc, polyandry, multiple male lovers and one female lover

part one | part two

———

A throbbing head was the first thing Ryia felt when she woke up. Her vision, blurred at first, cleared up to reveal to her a room. Smooth pristine coal coloured walls surrounded her as well as the floor.

The room was decorated with medical looking devices some similar to human ones. Getting up into a sitting position, Ryia saw she was laid upon a metal slab covered with a some type of animal pelt. Head still throbbing, she decided to find a way out of the room. All the walls had no sign of a door or a way out but she did find a keypad that could open the door. The keys had weird symbols that she couldn't understand. However, when she stood near the keypad, the wall to the left shifted like a slide door.

Stunned, she stood for a moment before stepping out, making sure to keep her steps light, looking back in time to see the wall seamlessly slide back into place. She decided on which direction to go in given that she wanted to go home, so after a little innie miny moe game, she went left down the hall.

The hall curved, still the same coal coloured look, into an open area that looked like an alien kitchen and dining area. As she entered the area, she spotted, on one side of it, a large window that spanned the whole wall. She ran to it while still being aware of how much noise she made. She looked out noticing how high the unknown object was from the ground and she was still able to see her house.

She let out a quiet sigh in relief that she was still on Earth. Now that she thought about it, what if those creatures weren't re-

Soft clicking noises could be heard behind Ryia and she felt like she could pass out.

Slowly, she turned around, and came face to face with three of the things she saw a couple hours ago.

"Three? Where are the other two?" She thought. But before that thought could be answered, the biggest of the three growled at her so ferociously she could feel it in her bones. The sound made goosebumps crawl onto her skin and she shrunk into the window behind her. The smallest of the males went in front of his kin and gave a him a shove.

"Calm down Vikap, you're scaring her." An'tui said to him while trying to calm him. "I have no reason to care about her feelings. She is prey. Her smell invades my senses and it makes me want to rip out her head from her body. I want her out!" He growls out. "Calm 𝒎𝒆𝒊'𝒉𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒊. That is a decision for Ra'kar to make."

Ryia was stood- more like plastered against the window in fear but also in bewilderment as she watched the interaction. It seemed the smaller one was attempting to calm "Hulk" as she called him, but she wasn't sure if that was the case because it just seemed like they were arguing from her point of view.

Just then, the other two appeared. The one that grabbed her so hard she swears her mother turned in her grave. Now that it was light out, she could see the dread-like appendages from his head, from all their heads, however his were lengthy; from his lower back and just past his waist and were greying at the ends. And then there was the one that stares at her with an odd look. Like he is constantly observing her, not judging, just staring.

'Grey', she called him, walked with such confidence that it brought Ryia's already low self-esteem lower. She shrunk into herself; the degrading thoughts making themselves known in her head. 'Grey' began clicking at his brothers before looking at her with a gentle look.

A growled out voice could be heard when she heard him spoke," Ooman......you...are aboard...our...ship." The sentence was garbled almost like it was generated. "You collapsed due to your fall after I grabbed....you. I sincerely apologize for that." First of all, Ryia wasn't detered by anything that had just happened, she just wanted to know why she could understand them.

"Y-you..guys...can speak..English?" She whispered out. "No, T'edqah implanted a translator behind your ear," as he said that she felt behind both ears at the same time and behind her right ear, there was a small bump that stung just a little. She dropped her arms and felt rather small in that moment as they were all intensely looking at her, well except Hulk, he just kinda looked like he was glaring at her.

"Who is 𝑇𝑒-𝑔𝑘-𝑎?" Mr Grey gestured towards the leanest one of all five. However that word should be taken very lightly because even though he was lean for the obvious fact that he worked in medical, he was still a hunking mass built with broad shoulders, strong legs and not to mention a sculptured torso. At this point, Ryia realised that she was ogling because the room had gone silent with all of them watching her.

"Its 𝑇𝑒𝑑-𝑘𝑎. He is our health aide or as you humans call it, a medic." "And who are you?" She asked.

"Shit, I shouldn't have said that. It sounded rude." She thought. Hulk growled louder this time and stomped his way over to her and aggressively grabbed her throat adding enough pressure to almost deem her unconcious. Va'tha was alarmed as he was worried for the human's life but he didn't let it show in his expression. They all were alarmed but looked to Ra'kar for direction.

"Brother..." Va'tha's voice fades. "Vikap, let her go." Vikap's anger threatened to overweigh his loyalty to his leader. "But she spoke out of tone." At this point Ryia was shedding tears. The skin on her upper torso was sensitive as it is but her neck was very delicate as the skin there was thin from her abuse, so she was in the most pain she had been in since she left home.

"Just put her down." Ra'kar was stern this time and Vikap didn't want to anger him, so with the slightest hesitation, he let her go without a care. Ryia fell onto her kness before laying on her side gasping for air. Shockingly to the brothers, it didn't take long for her to recover as she was used to such behaviour. She got up to her feet and looked at Rakar.

"C-can I l-leave?" The question came out shakily and whispered but not in fear but because her throat was bruised. "We need to do a vital scan of-"

"I'll be fine. I'm a doctor."

".......ok. An'tui will show you out." The smallest one started walking and it took a minutes before she followed. She walked a couple steps behind him. Even if he was the smallest, Ryia couldn't help but ogle him. All 7' something inches of him. One itty bitty question bottled her though. She just hoped he wouldn't react as violently as Hulk.

Back in the dining room, Vikap felt better now that the human was gone. "Vikap, why do you always have to go crazy?" T'edqah asked with a shove. "I will do what I wanted to do to her to you." "And I will shove a needle up your-"

"Enough! Vikap, this has happened one to many times. Go and cool off." Vikap left without a sound leaving the two together.

"'Should I ask or not? I mean I think I should but I don't want to die. What if he does worse? And 'Grey' isn't here to intervene. What if the answer is obvious? I could just try and find out on my own. I mean-'

"Are you guys dating?" The words flew right out of her mouth. Silence filled the empty hall. An'tui stopped walking. 'Oh no.' He spun in shock and looked straight at her. Slowly, he shook his head. "....No."

"....hm." He turned again and continued walking. Soon enough, they arrived at a wall just like the one she came across before and saw how seamless the door was. An'tui opened the door using some gauntlet on his wrist and gestured towards the ramp once the door was raised.

"Uh....thanks." "Now from what i've seen in horror movies, never turn your back towards the enemy. But walking backwards is a bad omen. So I'll walk out the doorway forwards, spin back towards him, check for any signs of an attack then run...no sprint home." All this she thought as she slowly walked to the doorway. When she got there, she put it into action and did as thought.

Once she got to the back door she entered, locked the door and rested against it. Then she crawled to a window to peep out of it to see if they were watching and to her embarassment, they were.

"I need to get out of here." She thought. She made sure to keep away from any windows and made her way upstairs and into her room. The trek upstairs was fairly easy. She ran into her bedroom and got her phone out. There was only one person she could talk to in the moment to fetch her and that was Louis. She wouldn't consider him as her best friend as she wasn't close to people like that and when she was close to someone, they hurt her. Crouched and on her knees in front of her bed, she rung him up and as always, he answered on her third attempt of trying to reach him.

"Ryia! Baby! How are you? It's been a while. I've been waiting for your call. It's like you forget about me when you leave work. How's life? Any hotties wanna party? Any daddies wanna smashie. Two bodies doing the naughty-"

"Shut up will you?", she whisper yelled. "Sorry. I'm kinda sorta in a situation right now and I would like it if you would get over her right now. I need a ride." She rushed out.

"Well excuse you honey, if you forgot, I'm kinda uhm....a DOCTOR. I got people to help here. You do know that you can still drive your OWN car to the store. You're not handicapped just because you're on your period."

"Firstly, ewww. Secondly this situation is serious. I don't know how to tell you this but," as she says this she doesn't notice An'tui approaching from behind her silently and appearing in her doorway. "There are aliens in my backyard."

"Are you ok? Are you high? Did you hit your head really hard? Cause like I'm confused."

"Please just get here." She adds on.

"I'll see later, Ryia. BAAYYE."

"Did I mention they're hot...?"

"....I'll be right there." He ends the call abruptly before she can even say bye.

A hefty sigh of relief leaves a lips as she sat down fully with her leg supporting her arm.

'Ok now I need to-"AAAHHHH!" Her screech was so high pitched, it startled the male into a defensive stance. She reached for her throw pillows and flung them with all her might at him which caused him to straighten back up but they had no effect on his rock solid muscled body. "What are you doing here! Get out! Get out!"

An'tui could sense the stress of the female and purred lowly. "Calm down. I followed you to keep an eye on you."

"Why!" At this point she was slowly hyperventilating and couldn't breathe properly. An'tui saw this and approached her with slow and measured steps. "Calm down. My scans show that you overbreathing also know as hyperventilating. Listen to me. Breathe in, breathe out."

Ryia didn't know why but for some reason she listened and soon enough her breathing had returned to normal.

"Why should you be keeping an eye on me? I don't have anything you guys need or want and I didn't steal anything."

"You may have not done anything but you jave seen us and know we exist. We cannot risk you telling anyone about us and this was the better choice."

"W-what was the other choice?"

"To kill you."

She took a tentative step backwards, you know just in case, with a scared look on her face.

"I'm sure t-that was Hulk's idea."

"What is a Hulk?"

"Nevermind-"

The conversation was interrupted by loud honking from outside. An'tui's head snapped towards the window whilst a set of blades extended from his wrist. The 2 foot blades were sharpened to perfection and glistened in the light of the room.

"Stay here. There is a threat outside that needs to be terminated."

He turned on his heels and headed for the door. Ryia realized that it was her crazy friend and followed behind him.

"Wait! Wait! He's not a threat! He's just a friend! An accomplice! A companion!"

———

-A

yautja x oc, polyandry, multiple male lovers and one female lover

warnings - childhood trauma, child abuse, depression, mentions of racial slurs

part one

———

Love was an emotion that Ryia hadn't experienced. She thought that she had from her friends at school, but from what she gathered on the internet and other people, it wasn't. She hadn't felt that sense of warmth through her body when she thought of her friends and she sure didn't from her parents. Her relationship with them was something she would never pray upon her biggest enemy.

When you think of parents, you think of the people who love you, who would protect you in the most dire of situations, sometimes even lay their life down for you but not for Ryia. At the tender age of four, her drug-addict of a mom had burnt her tiny body with scalding hot water almost every three days. It was a hiding game for Ryia. She would be in hiding until she got hungry then proceed to the kitchen to get something to eat, only to not make it out in time where her, already high, mother would find her and beat her. Her father was an absent father. He left the family when Ryia was 2. Now him and his new family are living the high life. Almost every month, they were travelling. Ryia always wondered if that's the reason why her mom abused her. Maybe her mother wanted to travel the world and live the lavish life. But she also couldn't understand why she was being abused. The urge to know the reason of her miserable lifestyle was greater than anything. Sometimes she thought that she was the reason that her mother's dream was hindered. Ryia learnt to look after herself from then on. She went to school with such eagerness, knowing that one day she'd graduate and leave home.

And she did.

Come gradution day and she had graduated and was off to uni on a scholarship. Heaven knows she worked her ass off to become the doctor she was. Even through this, she still helped her mother when she was diagnosed with lung cancer until she passed. Ryia didn't feel anything for the woman, heck she didn't even prepare a funeral. She simply sent her aunt an email regarding her mother's passing and left them to do the rest.

From then on, Ryia mingled around with people who treated like she was the scum of the earth and even had one of her exes call her racial slurs when the relationship ended.

However Ryia was numb to all her bad luck. She never smiled and rarely laughed. Sometimes, looking at her reflection after taking a warm shower, it looked like she was looking through herself, an empty shell with the remnants of it's contents a ghostly appearance. Even with all the money she had, she wasn't happy.

———

Her life was like this until 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 day. The day she met 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺.

It was a chilly night, Ryia reading a book in the quiet of her bedroom. She had been reading Romeo and Juliet. The story not really interesting her. She was just trying to get a feel of their love; trying to gauge what it's like to be in love. She wasn't dumb. She knew lovers never fell this fast in love; she simply was trying to understand 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲.

She was so focused in reading her book. So intrigued at the way Shakespeare interpreted love. But nothing could have taken all of her focus to the point that she didn't hear the rumble of an engine outside her house. An engine? Why would there be an engine outside at this time? It was very late into the night, the moonlight stretching itself across her room creating a soft halo around her. She was incredibly startled. Confused and wary, she walked up to window to inspect her backyard. Her chocolate brown eyes scoped the area to find nothing.

Nothing in sight. As she turned to leave, she spotted something. The smallest thing ever, she wasn't even sure she would have seen it, but she did. Under the shadows of the tall trees that surrounded her backyard, she spotted wavy air.

Wavy air. Like the skeptic she is, she blinked, several times but the image never left her sight. She was scared. What could have been going on in her backyard at this time. But with the smallest, ant size of bravery, she decided to go check it out. She hoped that with her knowledge of black people dying first in movies, this wouldn't be that scenario. Walking downstairs was hilarious to her. She didn't crack a smile, no, but she did think that whatever she was doing in that moment was the exact thing the killed the dumbest people in movie.

'But this is real life', she thought. Just to protect herself though, she turned on the living room and kitchen lights. You never know what's lurking in the dark. Ryia walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinet above her stove. She got out a flashlight, the thickest skillet she could find, you know just in case and a large pocket knife. You never know where danger lurks.

After acquiring her items, Ryia cautiously walked out the back door to her backyard. The soft rumbling of the engine had stopped so she turned on the flashlight and walked in the direction that she saw the mysterious 'wavy air'. As she walked closer, flashlight helping with her vision, she noticed the waviness got taller and wider. The more she looked, the more she noticed that something was concealed there but she didn't want to admit it to herself. 'It couldn't be invisible, could it?', her thoughts questioning what she saw. All around her she could her a soft trilling sound. The rapid clicks reminding her of a woodpecker. As she reached out in front of her to feel the mystery object, she felt herself being pushed to the ground at breakneck speed; all her safety objects being thrown out of her hands. Everything was muddled for a second. It took a minute to recover and when she held herself up on her elbows, she looked around frantically. Wondering what the hell was going on, she grabbed the closet thing to her which was her flashlight and searched her backyard.

Ryia got up slowly, sitting on her legs before quickly crawling towards her things so she could return home. Whatever the hell was going on she was leaving it to God and running for her life. After getting back up, she turned towards her house ready to run, only to see the same waviness in front of her. Looking to her left she saw the same one still concealed under the trees. What could possibly be in front of her?

She heard the clicking again only this time it felt like it was two steps in front of her. Her head turned towards the sound slowly and what she saw made her drop her items once again. What was once air, was now something that could only exist in horror movies. In front of her, she saw a massive eight-foot tall humanoid creature. It had a huge crest at the top of it's forehead, two golden deepset eyes, no nose but four crab-like fingers on it's mandible. This creature was fucking huge. It's skin was a chestnut brown with black spotting. It looked like all it ever did was workout it's whole life with it's jacked body. It's taut muscles a canvas with the moonlight enhancing the dips of the muscles on it's torso. It wore silver armor, the most pristine she had ever seen. Nothing seemed off about this alien and she was so close to passing the fuck out.

What she didn't expect was to see four more appear behind the brown one. Each with their own bulky bodies made to perfection. At this point, she knew she was a goner. Each creature was around the same height. At the sight of them, she took a step back. At that moment her life literally flashed before her eyes. It wasn't like her life was special anyway. She knew what she was about to do was stupid but she did it anyway. Or attempted to. She turned on her heels and got two steps away before she was grabbed by her arm and thrown towards the other four. Her body slammed into the floor but it wasn't enough to injure her terribly. Her black curls were a mess around her face and her vision was blurry. She saw the tanned creature walk towards her and that was the last thing she saw.

———

Ra'kar was the leader of his ship. His ship consisted of himself and four other yautja, all of which are his family. He was nine-hundred and sixty five. Culturally, he was an Elder.

His members were made up of his blood brother, Va'tha and three cousins, T'edqah, Vikap and An'tui. They were currently on a hunt. A forest was their destination but their engine became faulty so they had an emergency stop. Where they wanted to land had looked to be some sort of land near a lake but it happened to belong to a human. They hadn't known that the land was occupied so imagine their surprise when the tiny human emerged from her home in scared curiousity.

Her black locks framed her face and fell down her back in soft curls while she used the light-emitting device to help with her vision. She wasn't small by human standards looking to be atleast 5'11. She was curvy but fit and soft looking. One thing was odd though. Her skin was covered in darker patches and scars howerer that didn't take away from her beauty. Her black skin glowed in the soft glow of the moonlight. She cautiously approached the ship but Vikap being the rebel he is, knocked her to ground. She was frantic for sure, his bio-mask showing her vitals escalating. The five of them jumped down from the trees with such gracefulness, walking towards the fallen human.

Ra'kar was ahead of them, only a few steps away from her and grabbed her before she could escape throwing her towards the others. He didn't mean to throw her hard judging by the way she passed out by their feet. They were all confused at how fragile she was.

An'tui was the youngest and was quiet; very rarely socialising with others. "I think you went a little overboard brother", the burgundy-coloured yautja said.

"What should we do with her?" Va'tha spoke up. The dark green yautja was seven-hundred and forty. Being the brother of an Elder had it's perks as he was a seasoned hunter with many trophies adorning his chamber. He had many strong pups and many more to come with all the females constantly flirting with him. It was uncommon however for pups to be so close like he was with Ra'kar. And he also had a secret; one that could get him outcast. It was wrong and considered unworthy for a yautja to mate or be in a relationship with a human. His hidden desire for humans was buried deep within him years ago but the mere sight of this human had his emotions swirling once again. But he could and would be able to handle his emotions.

"We could just leave her here and continue our journey." Vikap snarled out, glaring at the passed out human.

T'edqah, being the medic that he is, gently picked her up, " Let us take her back to the ship. I must examine her for any injuries as i'm assuming that your intentions were not to hurt her?" With a sigh, Ra'kar agreed and soon after they were on their way.

———

Who do think of when listening to SZA's Big Boy????

........dRaKeN!?!????!?!?!?

🎵 It'ś cuffing season and Draken's the reason

I need a big boy, gimme a big boy, I want a big boy.

It's cuffing season and all the girls are leaving

to get a big boy, I want a big boy, gimme a big

Draken is that type of guy who would look at his wife/girlfriend's hoohaa while she's giving birth and not pass out.

He'd be there encouraging her with an almost stoic face while she's squeezing the everliving life out of his hands.