blairwritingscript

[blairwritingscript]

**Hunters of the Silent Moon p.10**

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six)

(part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten)

srr for not posting anything yesterday, I was out partying T-T so here is an extra long chapter!

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Ka’Thar stood near the entrance of the tent, his sharp gaze lingering on the small human curled up near the center of the space. She was motionless, too still for his liking. The firelight cast flickering shadows over her form, emphasizing just how much smaller and fragile she was compared to them. The mere thought irritated him—fragility was a weakness, yet she had proven herself to be anything but weak. He had watched her endure, adapt, and fight through grueling training sessions, even when her body screamed for rest.

And yet, now she looked... defenseless.

A low growl rumbled in his throat as he turned away, attempting to push down the unease creeping into his mind. She wasn’t their kind; she wasn’t built like them. He had no reason to feel this sudden sense of protectiveness—an instinct he usually reserved for fellow warriors in battle, not for some human female.

Vey’Ta, on the other hand, had moved closer, his focus trained on her with an entirely different energy. His posture was relaxed, his mandibles twitching in thought. Unlike Ka’Thar, he had been certain of her potential from the start. He had chosen her, not simply for her strength but for something deeper. Something more instinctual. He had seen a fire in her, something that resonated with him in a way that he had never experienced before. Bringing her here had been his intention, and while she may not yet realize it, he was prepared to ensure her survival and—more than that—her place among them.

Ka’Thar exhaled sharply, his narrowed gaze shifting to Vey’Ta. The way the other Yautja watched her was different. Purposeful. It sent a ripple of irritation through him.

“You act as if she belongs to you,” Ka’Thar muttered in their tongue, his voice low but pointed.

Vey’Ta didn’t turn his head, but his mandibles twitched in amusement. “Perhaps she does,” he replied smoothly. “I was the one who saw her worth first.”

Ka’Thar clicked his tusks together in frustration. “She is here for the experiment,” he reminded him. “Not to entertain your... interests.”

Vey’Ta finally turned to face him, his bright eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “You speak as though you do not care,” he challenged. “Yet you stand guard over her as if she is already one of our own.”

Ka’Thar’s growl deepened, but he said nothing. He didn’t have an answer—at least, not one he liked. He had respected her before, that much was true. But respect was different from this odd, protective impulse that had begun to coil within him. He had never concerned himself with the well-being of someone so delicate before, yet here he was, feeling the tension of unspoken responsibility tighten around him.

Vey’Ta tilted his head slightly. “You know it too,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “She is not just another human. She’s a fighter. Stronger than expected. And she is ours to protect.”

Ka’Thar scoffed, but the words struck something deep within him. He had thought the same thing many times during their journey, though he had refused to acknowledge it outright. This human had changed something between them. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, she had earned more than just their curiosity—she had earned their loyalty. And that was not something given lightly.

Silence stretched between them before Ka’Thar let out a quiet, reluctant sigh. He glanced back toward her small form, still unmoving. “She needs rest,” he muttered. “And food. She barely ate.”

Vey’Ta nodded. “Then we will make sure she has both.”

Without another word, they settled in opposite corners of the tent, each instinctively taking up a position that ensured she remained in their sight. Outside, the distant sounds of their tribe carried through the air, but inside, there was only the flickering of firelight and the quiet breaths of the human who, whether she realized it or not, was no longer just an outsider in their midst.

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The next morning, the camp was already stirring with life when Ka’Thar led Y/N out of the tent. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and burning wood, the rising sun casting long shadows over the settlement. Y/N felt the weight of drowsiness clinging to her, but she pushed it aside, knowing what was expected of her. Training was a given.

Ka’Thar wasted no time, taking her to a clearing at the edge of the camp where the ground was packed firm from years of sparring. The moment they arrived, Y/N felt eyes on her. Groups of Yautja warriors lingered just beyond the training space, some standing with arms crossed, others murmuring to one another in their guttural language. Their gazes bore into her, assessing, scrutinizing. Among them were Youngbloods, the fresh warriors of the clan, their postures alight with a restless sort of energy. Some seemed intrigued, others skeptical.

She swallowed, shifting under the weight of their attention. This wasn’t like training aboard the ship. There, it had just been Ka’Thar and Vey’Ta, their sharp critiques balanced by an unspoken understanding of her limits. Here, she was on display.

Ka’Thar, as always, was unreadable, his body language neutral as he stood beside her. But Y/N had learned to pick up on the small shifts in his stance, the slight twitch of his mandibles when he was irritated. And right now, he was irritated. Whether it was at her discomfort or at the others for watching, she wasn’t sure.

Vey’Ta was nearby as well, lingering just outside the clearing, but unlike Ka’Thar, his posture was more relaxed, almost casual. She knew better. He was paying close attention. He had been the one to bring her here, the one who had vouched for her. If there was anyone who took personal interest in her progress, it was him.

Ka’Thar let out a low growl and stepped forward, signaling for her to take a stance. She obeyed, steadying herself, trying to ignore the murmurs beyond the training area. The Youngbloods were the worst. They didn’t even try to be subtle about their curiosity, their heads tilted, eyes glinting with challenge. The females, however, regarded her differently—not with mere curiosity, but with something closer to calculation, as though measuring her worth in ways she couldn’t yet understand.

Some of the females stood taller and broader than the males, their muscle definition unmistakable even beneath their armor. Their presence carried a weight of authority, their movements deliberate and powerful. Unlike the younger males who observed with arrogance or amusement, the females assessed her with a detached, almost clinical interest, as if deciding whether she was worthy of recognition.

Ka’Thar’s voice snapped her back to the moment. “Focus.”

She exhaled sharply, grounding herself as he took the first swing, testing her reflexes. It began as it always did—slow, controlled movements to get her warmed up. She deflected, countered, moved with him. But she felt sluggish today, her mind distracted by the onlookers. Ka’Thar noticed.

“Again,” he said, sharper this time.

Y/N gritted her teeth and complied, dodging his next strike, her breath coming faster. A few of the observers let out amused clicks, their amusement clear despite the language barrier. She wasn’t giving them a performance worth their attention, not yet.

Ka’Thar’s irritation deepened, his strikes gaining speed. He wasn’t being cruel—this was his way of forcing her to focus. And it worked. She barely had time to overthink before she was forced to move on instinct, ducking and weaving, blocking and countering. The whispers dulled in her mind.

A particularly well-placed counter made Ka’Thar pause, his head tilting slightly. Y/N barely had time to register the flicker of approval before he lunged again.

But this time, he miscalculated.

Forgetting, just for a second, the vast difference in their strength, he struck too hard. His fist connected solidly with her stomach, sending her stumbling back. A sharp, breathless sound escaped her lips as she doubled over, pain radiating from the impact. The world narrowed to a dull ache, her lungs struggling to draw in air.

Laughter erupted from the gathered warriors. Low, guttural chuckles filled the air, their amusement unmistakable. Y/N gritted her teeth, fury burning beneath the pain, but she could do nothing but clutch her stomach and try to steady herself.

Ka’Thar stiffened. His mandibles twitched, a flicker of something—regret, frustration—crossing his features. He hadn’t meant to hit her that hard.

Somewhere beyond the clearing, Vey’Ta let out a low rumble, something close to a scoff, but not at her expense. His gaze flicked to the others, sharp, as if daring them to continue their amusement.

One of the larger females, standing with her arms folded, let out an approving growl, a smirk evident in the way her mandibles flexed. “She’s still standing,” she rumbled in their native tongue, her tone carrying both amusement and a grudging respect. “Maybe she can bear pups after all.”

Ka’Thar shot her a glare but said nothing. Instead, he extended a hand toward Y/N. She hesitated for only a moment before grasping his forearm, allowing him to pull her upright. His grip lingered for a fraction longer than necessary before he released her, stepping back.

Vey’Ta, standing at the edge of the training circle, watched the exchange with an unreadable expression. His gaze flicked from Ka’Thar to Y/N, something thoughtful lurking behind his eyes. He had seen it—the way Ka’Thar had reacted. And though he wouldn’t say it aloud, he recognized the protective instinct taking root in his companion.

Ka’Thar exhaled sharply, his mandibles flexing. “Enough,” he announced, his voice leaving no room for argument. “We’re done for today.”

Y/N swayed slightly but held herself upright, determined not to show any more weakness in front of the others. However, Ka’Thar wasn’t fooled. He exchanged a brief glance with Vey’Ta before stepping closer, gripping her forearm again, this time more firmly. “Come.”

Vey’Ta took her other arm, not saying a word, but there was no mistaking the tension in his grip. They led her away from the training grounds, ignoring the lingering gazes of the other warriors. The murmurs quieted behind them as they moved toward the medical tent.

By the time they arrived, Y/N’s stomach was throbbing with pain. The bruising was already forming—deep, dark splotches spreading across her skin. Ka’Thar clicked his mandibles in irritation, watching as the clan’s healer assessed the injury.

“She will heal,” the healer stated simply, though his tone carried a note of curiosity. “Humans bruise easily, it seems.”

Ka’Thar didn’t reply. His gaze remained locked on Y/N, his irritation shifting into something else. Something closer to concern.

Vey’Ta, standing just behind him, crossed his arms. “will she still be able to mate like that?,” he murmured, low enough for only Ka’Thar to hear.

Ka’Thar’s mandibles twitched. He wasn’t sure why that thought unsettled him so much.

Y/N winced as the healer’s claws prodded at her ribs, pressing into the already-darkening bruises.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from hissing in pain.

Vey’ta’s voice was low, meant only for Ka’Thar, but Y/N heard it clear as day.

Heat shot up her neck so fast she nearly choked on her own breath. “Excuse me?!”

Both Yautja turned to look at her. Vey’ta’s mandibles twitched slightly, as if he only just realized she’d heard him. Ka’Thar, on the other hand, exhaled sharply through his nose, clearly irritated.

“You heard him,” Ka’Thar muttered, as if that was explanation enough.

Y/N’s face burned hotter. “Yeah, and I’d really love to un-hear it.”

Vey’ta, to his credit, didn’t seem embarrassed. If anything, his head tilted slightly, studying her reaction. “It is a logical question,” he said, his tone entirely too calm. “Your body is small, fragile. It would be unfortunate if training made you unfit for—”

“Oh my God, stop talking.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, pressing a hand over her face. She felt all of their gazes on her, even the healer’s, who was watching the exchange with vague amusement.

Ka’Thar made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a scoff. “Now you are flustered?” He shook his head. “After everything you have endured, this is what unsettles you?”

Y/N snapped her head up, glaring at him. “Because I wasn’t expecting to hear you two discussing my—my breeding potential while I’m literally right here!”

Vey’ta let out a low chuff, and it took Y/N a second to realize—he was laughing.

Her glare whipped toward him. “Oh, you think this is funny?”

Vey’ta’s mandibles twitched in amusement. “A little.”

Y/N groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “You guys are unbelievable.”

Ka’Thar clicked his tusks in annoyance. “Enough. She is healing, that is what matters.” He shot a glare at Vey’ta before looking back at the healer. “She will be fine?”

The healer nodded. “Yes. Human skin is weak, but it recovers quickly.”

Y/N let out an exasperated breath. “Gee, thanks.”

Ka’Thar ignored her. “Good. Then we are leaving.” He turned on his heel, clearly done with the conversation as he went to stand by the exit.

Vey’ta lingered for a moment longer, watching Y/N with a glint of amusement still in his eyes. “You turn colors when embarrassed,” he observed. “Interesting.”

Y/N scowled. “You turn colors when I punch you. Also interesting.”

Vey’ta chuffed again, clearly entertained. "you can't punch me."

Y/N groaned, flopping back against the cot. She was bruised, exhausted, and mortified.

She was never going to live this down.

Y/N sat on the medical cot for a moment longer, her face still burning. Unbelievable. First, they nearly cracked her ribs during training, and now they were casually discussing her “breeding potential” like she wasn’t even in the room?

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head before pushing herself to her feet. Her body protested, sore and aching, but she forced herself to move. If she stayed here any longer, the healer might start asking questions she didn’t want to answer—questions about her reactions, about the tension that lingered between her and the two Yautja who had become both her tormentors and her protectors.

Y/N groaned inwardly. She knew that look. He was not going to let this go.

“So, do you guys talk about this sort of thing all the time, or was today just special?” Y/N questioned.

Ka’Thar let out a gruff noise. “You are part of a breeding experiment. What did you expect?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know—maybe a little tact?”

Vey’ta chuffed, clearly enjoying her frustration. “Why does it unsettle you so much?”

Y/N shot him a glare. “Because I’m not used to people talking about me like I’m not even there, especially when it comes to—” She cut herself off, crossing her arms.

Vey’ta’s head tilted, his gaze calculating. “Mating?”

Y/N groaned. “Do you have to say it like that?”

Ka’Thar scoffed. “You act as if it is something unnatural.”

Y/N turned to him, exasperated. “It’s not unnatural, it’s just—ugh, forget it.” She clenched her jaw, feeling her face heat up again. “You two don’t get it.”

Vey’ta was still watching her, his amusement shifting into something more curious. “You react strongly to the idea,” he mused. “Is it because you do not wish for a mate at all? Or because you do not wish for a Yautja mate?”

Y/N faltered, her heartbeat picking up. That was… a loaded question. One she wasn’t sure how to answer.

Ka’Thar let out a low growl, clearly annoyed. “It does not matter what she wishes.” His words were blunt, dismissive, but there was something else there too—something almost bitter.

Y/N’s hands curled into fists. “It matters to me.”

Ka’Thar’s golden eyes snapped to hers, intense and unreadable. For a moment, there was nothing but silence between them, thick and heavy.

Then, Vey’ta exhaled, breaking the tension. “Perhaps,” he said simply. “But you are here, regardless.”

Y/N let out a slow breath, forcing herself to relax. They weren’t wrong. She was here. And no amount of arguing was going to change that.

But that didn’t mean she had to accept it.

“Yeah,” she muttered. “We’ll see about that.”

Ka’Thar didn’t respond, but the way his mandibles twitched told her he had heard.

Vey’ta, however, was still watching her, thoughtful. “You are… interesting, Y/N.”

Y/N sighed. “Yeah, well. You’re frustrating, Vey’ta.”

His mandibles twitched in amusement. “Good.”

Y/N groaned again. This was going to be a long stay..

Y/N was about to step away when the healer, who had been silent until now, finally spoke again.

“She is in peak condition for producing offspring.”

The words were said so matter-of-factly that it took Y/N’s brain a moment to register them.

Then, her entire body locked up.

Ka’Thar’s mandibles flexed, his gaze snapping back to the healer. “That is not relevant right now.”

“It is entirely relevant,” the healer countered, unbothered. He turned his calculating gaze to Y/N, looking her over with something more akin to scientific curiosity than anything else. “Humans reach their prime reproductive years far earlier than Yautja. Based on her biology, she is at the peak of her fertility now. If the Elders wish to see results, it would be most optimal to begin soon.”

Y/N choked. “I—what?!”

Vey’ta tilted his head, his mandibles twitching slightly. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “That does make sense.”

“NO, it does not—” Y/N sputtered, stepping back instinctively as if distance would somehow make the conversation less horrifying.

The healer continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “The bruising is minor and will not affect the process. Though, considering the size difference, care will have to be taken to avoid damaging her—”

“Oh my God, STOP.”

Y/N pressed both hands to her face, feeling heat crawl up her skin so quickly she was sure she was redder than she’d ever been in her entire life. She could feel all three of them looking at her, and it only made it worse.

Ka’Thar exhaled sharply, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Enough.” His tone left no room for argument. “We are not discussing this here.”

The healer merely chuffed in amusement, clearly unbothered by the tension he’d just created. “Very well.” He turned away, busying himself with his supplies. “But do not wait too long. The Elders will be expecting progress.”

Y/N couldn’t look at either of them. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the tent, needing air—or whatever passed for air on this damn planet.

Behind her, Vey’ta let out a low hum. “She reacts so strongly to these topics. Interesting.”

Ka’Thar sighed heavily. “If you do not want her to kill you in your sleep, stop talking.”

---

The path back to their shared dwelling was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city and the steady crunch of their steps. Y/N walked ahead of them, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her movements stiff with irritation.

Vey’ta and Ka’Thar followed behind, their minds preoccupied with the healer’s words.

“The sooner it happens, the sooner she leaves,” Ka’Thar finally muttered, breaking the silence.

Vey’ta exhaled, tilting his head in thought. “You assume she would see it that way.”

Ka’Thar scoffed. “She despises being here. She despises us. The only logical path forward is to remind her of that. Give her a reason to cooperate.”

Vey’ta’s mandibles twitched. “Perhaps.”

Ka’Thar’s patience was already thin. He shot Vey’ta a sharp glance. “You disagree?”

Vey’ta let out a low chuff. “I think you underestimate how much pride she has. She does not like being told what to do. That much is obvious.”

Ka’Thar let out a frustrated growl but didn’t argue. It was true—Y/N resisted everything, even when there was no point. Even when she was exhausted, in pain, outmatched. She fought simply because she refused to be controlled.

Which meant convincing her wouldn’t be as simple as giving her an easy way out.

They reached their tent, and Y/N immediately stepped inside, arms still crossed as she paced near her sleeping space. She was still flustered, still angry, and Ka’Thar knew they had to approach this carefully.

He stepped forward first. “You want to return to your home, yes?”

Y/N stopped pacing and shot him a wary look. “Obviously.”

Ka’Thar nodded. “Then you know the fastest way to achieve that.”

Y/N’s expression darkened. “I knew this was coming.”

Vey’ta crossed his arms. “It is not meant as a threat.” His voice was calm, measured. “It is a fact. You know what the Elders expect. The sooner they are satisfied, the sooner you will be free.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, her fingers twitching at her sides. “And if I don’t?”

Ka’Thar narrowed his eyes. “Then you stay.”

The tent fell into a heavy silence.

Y/N’s breathing was steady, but Ka’Thar could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers curled slightly like she was holding herself back from throwing something.

Vey’ta took a step closer. “We are not your enemies, Y/N.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? Because it sure feels like you are.”

Ka’Thar growled. “You believe this is easy for us?” His mandibles flexed in irritation. “You were not our choice. This is not what we trained for. But we are following orders, just as you would if you were still in your own world.”

Y/N’s gaze snapped to him, fire burning behind her eyes. “That’s the difference between us, Ka’Thar. I never had a choice.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, Vey’ta exhaled slowly. “Perhaps,” he admitted. “But you have one now.”

Y/N blinked at him, clearly thrown off. “What?”

Vey’ta’s mandibles twitched. “You can fight this. You can resist. But in the end, the outcome remains the same. You can choose how difficult this is for yourself.”

Y/N stared at him, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. She didn’t respond.

Ka’Thar huffed, stepping back. “We will not force you. But do not think for a moment that refusing will give you what you want.”

With that, he turned and moved toward his own sleeping space, clearly done with the conversation. Vey’ta remained. His gaze lingered on Y/N, watching the way her chest rose and fell in slow, controlled breaths. She was angry, that much was obvious—but underneath it, there was something else. Confusion. Uncertainty.

She didn’t understand why.

And he wasn’t sure if telling her would help. But she deserved to know.

“It was not meant to be you,” he said finally.

Y/N’s head snapped up, her eyes locking onto his. “What?”

Vey’ta took a slow step forward, his posture careful, non-threatening. “You were not our first option. The Elders did not wish to take a human unless they had no choice.”

Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms tightly. “Oh, so I was a backup plan? That makes me feel so much better.”

Vey’ta exhaled. “Not a backup. A necessity.”

Her brows furrowed. She didn’t say anything, but he could tell she was waiting for him to explain.

“Our clan is strong,” he began, keeping his voice measured. “But there are too few unmated females. The Elders have long debated what to do about this. Other clans have had similar problems, but not to this extent.” His mandibles clicked. “Every female of age was already bonded to another warrior. There were no options left.”

Y/N’s lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something—but she didn’t.

Vey’ta continued. “The Elders did not want to take from another clan. That would mean challenging them, creating conflict.” He tilted his head. “So they looked elsewhere. To your kind.”

Y/N’s expression twisted, and her arms tightened around herself. “And what, I just happened to be the unlucky one?”

Vey’ta’s gaze softened slightly. “You were… compatible.”

Y/N blinked, clearly thrown off by the word.

“There are many humans,” Vey’ta explained. “But not all would survive here. You are strong, even by your species’ standards.” His mandibles twitched slightly. “Ka’Thar and I saw it before we took you. You fought. You did not submit.”

Y/N swallowed hard, looking away.

Vey’ta could tell she was processing. Letting the truth settle in.

Finally, she let out a slow breath. “So what you’re telling me is… I got dragged into this because there weren’t enough alien women to go around?”

Vey’ta gave a slow nod. “Yes.”

Y/N ran a hand down her face. “God. This just keeps getting worse.”

Vey’ta chuffed, amused. “It is not ideal.”

Y/N shot him a sharp look. “Not ideal? That’s all you have to say?”

His mandibles twitched in mild amusement. “Would you prefer I lie?”

She let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking her head. “You Yautja are insane.”

Vey’ta took another slow step forward. “We are warriors. We do what must be done.” His gaze lingered on her. “As must you.”

Y/N tensed at that, and Vey’ta didn’t miss the way her fingers twitched at her sides.

She was still resisting. But now, at least, she understood why she was here.

For now, that would have to be enough.

[blairwritingscript]

**Hunters of the Silent Moon p.9**

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six)

(part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten)

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Ka’Thar sat on a low, metal stool, sharpening the edge of his wrist blades with slow, deliberate strokes. The rhythmic scrape of metal against stone filled the tent, a steady contrast to the tension hanging between the three of them. The air was thick with the scent of their world—warm earth, faint traces of blood, and the musk of countless warriors moving through the camp outside.

Vey’ta stood near the entrance, arms crossed, his eyes flicking toward Y/N as she took a nap on the cot provided for her. He had observed her closely these past two weeks, watching how she had endured Ka’Thar’s relentless training, how she had fought through exhaustion and frustration without surrendering to it. She was unlike the other humans they had encountered—fierce, resilient. A survivor.

And now, she was here, in their world, surrounded by Yautja who saw her as nothing more than an experiment. The thought unsettled him.

Ka’Thar exhaled through his mandibles, setting his blade aside. "She has accepted the situation rather well" he admitted, breaking the silence. His voice was gruff but lacking the usual harshness.

Vey’ta gave a short nod. "She is strong."

"Strong enough to bear what they intend for her?" Ka’Thar’s tone was neutral, but there was an underlying challenge in his words. He was not blind to Vey’ta’s growing attachment.

Vey’ta’s mandibles twitched in irritation.

Ka’Thar let out a dry, rumbling chuckle at the look vey'ta gave. "You forget where you are, young one. The Elders do not ask permission."

Vey’ta’s grip tightened on his biceps, his tusks clenching. He knew Ka’Thar was right—tradition dictated that the word of the Elders was final. But the more time he spent with Y/N, the more the idea of her being forced into this fate disgusted him. She was not cattle. She was not weak.

She was… something else.

Ka’Thar studied his companion for a moment before shaking his head. "Do not let your emotions cloud your judgment. It is dangerous to think this way."

Vey’ta did not respond immediately. His gaze shifted to Y/N again, watching the way her fingers traced absent patterns against the fabric of her cot. He knew she was awake, even if she pretended not to be.

Finally, he spoke. "And if I do?" His voice was low, challenging.

Ka’Thar’s eyes narrowed slightly. Then, with a grunt, he picked up his blade and resumed sharpening. "Then you will have a problem much greater than me."

----------------------

Y/N lay still on the cot, her body relaxed but her mind far from it. The quiet scrape of Ka’Thar’s blade against stone and the low murmur of their voices had been her only company, but she had heard enough.

They were talking about her. About what the Elders intended for he.r About whether she was strong enough to endure it.

The thought made her stomach twist once more just like it had done when she first found out..

A breeding experiment. That’s what she was to them. Not a person, not a warrior, not even an equal—just something to be tested, examined, used. She had suspected as much when they first told her, but hearing them discuss it so plainly, like she had no say in it, filled her with something colder than fear.

Rage.

She had fought tooth and nail since the moment they took her. Every bruise from Ka’Thar’s brutal training, every exhaustion-fueled moment of defiance had been proof that she wasn’t weak. She wasn’t some helpless creature they could mold into what they wanted. And yet, here she was, in their world, under their control.

But not broken.

Never broken.

Her fingers curled into the fabric beneath her as she replayed Vey’ta’s words. His tone had been different—frustrated, maybe even… protective? He had always been the more patient one, watching her with something that wasn’t just cold calculation. Could he be an ally in this? Did he want to be? Did ka'thar want to be?

The steady scrape of Ka’Thar’s blade against stone filled the tent, but his mandibles twitched in amusement as he glanced at Y/N’s still form. She was good at pretending to be asleep, but not that good.

“You listen like a warrior, but you pretend like a child,” he rumbled, setting his blade aside.

Y/N’s fingers stilled against the fabric of her cot, but she didn’t respond.

Ka’Thar exhaled, shaking his head. “Pointless. If you have thoughts, speak them. Or do humans only bare their fangs when afraid?”

That got her.

Y/N turned her head just enough to glare at him. “I’m not afraid,” she muttered.

Vey’ta shifted near the entrance, his posture more relaxed than before. “She has proven that already,” he said, mandibles twitching in amusement. “Even when she should be.”

Y/N sat up with a quiet scoff. “Fear won’t change anything.”

Ka’Thar let out a low, thoughtful growl. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied her. "Hmph. You say that, yet your scent tells otherwise.”

Y/N stiffened slightly, but Ka’Thar’s tone lacked mockery. If anything, there was something almost… understanding in it.

“You would be a fool not to fear what is coming,” he continued, tilting his head. “But fools do not survive.”

Silence settled between them, heavy but not uncomfortable. It was strange, this moment of normalcy. No training, no commands, no hostility. Just… conversation.

Y/N sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. “So, what now? We just sit here in awkward silence?”

Ka’Thar huffed, something almost like a chuckle deep in his chest. “You would prefer more training?”

Y/N groaned. “I’d prefer food.”

Vey’ta made a chuffing sound, amused. “Finally, something we agree on.” He stepped toward the tent flap. “I will bring something.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Wait—you’re actually getting me food?”

Ka’Thar clicked his tusks. “You act as if we starve you.”

“You don’t starve me, but despite your efforts your food tastes like dirt,” she shot back.

Ka’Thar’s mandibles twitched. “Then eat dirt. It is close enough.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but for the first time since arriving on Yautja Prime, she almost—almost—felt at ease.

[blairwritingscript]

**Hunters of the Silent Moon p.8**

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six)

(part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten)

--------------------------------------------------

The imposing Yautja leader took a step forward, the ground beneath his massive frame compressing with a dull thud. His posture was one of controlled power, his movements deliberate as he turned his attention to Ka’Thar and Vey’ta.

A string of deep, guttural syllables left his mandibles, his tone steady but laced with authority. The language was completely alien to Y/N, its cadence sharp and commanding. Though she couldn't understand the words, she could read the subtle shifts in body language—the way Ka’Thar squared his shoulders in response, the slight tilt of Vey’ta’s head as he listened carefully. There was respect in their stance, but also an understanding of rank; this Yautja was not just another yautja like them—he wass their leader.

The exchange between them was brief but decisive. The leader’s voice rumbled like distant thunder, and both Ka’Thar and Vey’ta responded in turn, their tones controlled, measured. Y/N felt like an outsider peering into a world that was not meant for her, observing something she could not begin to decipher.

She shivered, though not entirely from the lingering cold. The gathered Yautja stood in silent ranks, their masked faces unreadable, their towering forms casting elongated shadows in the dim light of the landing site. Some of them, particularly the ones who appeared to be female, stood even taller than their male counterparts, their muscular frames exuding an air of quiet strength. Their armor was more intricately designed, adorned with additional plating and symbols that hinted at status or accomplishments. It was overwhelming, the sheer presence of so many of them at once—silent, watching, waiting.

Then, the leader's gaze shifted back to her.

She tensed under the weight of it, standing as still as she could manage. His eyes, a deep and piercing shade of gold, examined her with something akin to curiosity. Was he sizing her up? Assessing her worth? The uncertainty gnawed at her.

A sharp click echoed from the leader’s wrist device, and suddenly, his voice filtered through the translator.

“Welcome, human.”

His tone had lost its harsh edge, smoothed into something almost… welcoming. Not quite warm, but far from hostile.

“You have traveled far to stand before us. You are now among warriors.” His gaze flickered briefly over her form before settling on her eyes once more. “You will not be harmed.”

It was a simple statement, yet it carried an undeniable weight. A promise. A decree.

Y/N exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her body was still on high alert, but the words gave her something to hold onto, something solid amidst the unknown.

The gathered Yautja remained silent, watching intently. Their disciplined stillness made it difficult to gauge their reactions. Did they approve of her presence? Did they resent it? Or was this simply their nature—stoic, unreadable, impossible to decipher?

She glanced at Ka’Thar and Vey’ta, searching for any hint of what might come next. Vey’ta, standing at her side, shifted slightly, his posture more relaxed than before. Ka’Thar remained as rigid as ever, though there was a glint of something in his gaze—approval, perhaps? pride? It was difficult to tell.

The leader’s mandibles flared slightly, his voice breaking the momentary silence.

“You are tired from your journey.” A pause. “Rest. We will speak soon.”

With that, he turned, his crimson cape billowing slightly with the motion. The assembled Yautja remained still, disciplined, waiting for their leader to move before they did.

Ka’Thar took a small step forward, subtly gesturing for Y/N to follow. Vey’ta lingered beside her a moment longer before doing the same, his presence a steady reassurance.

As they led her away from the gathering, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder—what exactly did "speak soon" entail? And more importantly, was she truly safe among these warriors, or had she merely been granted a brief reprieve?

As they led her away from the gathering, Y/N took in her new surroundings for the first time.

The camp was not a permanent settlement, but rather a temporary encampment. Large, tent-like structures made of thick, reinforced material were arranged in a semi-organized fashion, their dark exteriors blending into the natural terrain. The ground was a mixture of packed dirt and scattered foliage, with occasional fire pits dotting the landscape. Some Yautja moved between the tents, sharpening weapons, repairing armor, or tending to supplies. Others stood in small groups, their conversations carried in hushed growls and clicks.

What caught her attention the most, however, was the group of young Yautja darting between the tents. Their small frames—still significantly larger than a human child’s—moved with impressive agility, their wooden weapons clashing in mock battles. They bore lighter armor, their movements unrefined but full of potential. Their laughter, a strange combination of clicks and hisses, rang through the air as they chased each other in a game that seemed to mimic hunting tactics.

Y/N barely had time to register them before a few of the younglings spotted her. Their movements slowed, curiosity evident in the way they tilted their heads. One of them, slightly bolder than the rest, clutched a wooden spear tightly before stepping forward.

Ka’Thar made a low rumbling sound, something between a warning and reassurance. The youngling hesitated, then glanced back at his companions before proceeding cautiously toward her.

Y/N tensed, uncertain of how to react. The young Yautja’s eyes studied her intently, flicking to the strange garments she wore, the lack of armor, the clear difference in stature. Then, without warning, he lifted his wooden spear and jabbed it in her direction—not in an attack, but in some kind of test.

Before she could react, another youngling rushed forward, clicking excitedly as he nudged the first one aside. More of them began to gather, their curiosity outweighing whatever hesitation they initially had. Some pointed at her, others whispered among themselves in their alien tongue.

Vey’ta let out a short chuckle, his mandibles twitching in amusement. “They have never seen one like you before,” he murmured, low enough that only she and Ka’Thar could hear.

Y/N swallowed, forcing herself to relax under the scrutiny. The younglings weren’t hostile—just intrigued. Slowly, she lifted her hand in a cautious wave.

The first youngling clicked loudly, then mimicked her motion, his large clawed fingers moving in an almost clumsy imitation. A ripple of interest moved through the group, and soon, several others were copying the gesture. Some laughed in what she assumed was their version of amusement.

Ka’Thar shook his head but said nothing, allowing the interaction to continue for a few more moments before he finally spoke. “Come,” he instructed. “There is more to see.”

With some reluctance, the young Yautja let her go, their gazes lingering as she followed Ka’Thar and Vey’ta deeper into the encampment.

As they passed the younglings, some of the older Youngbloods—those who had likely only recently earned their status as fledgling warriors—paused in their activities. Their gazes fixed on Y/N, lingering longer than was comfortable. Their expressions were difficult to read, but there was no mistaking the curiosity in their posture, the subtle tilts of their heads, the barely restrained interest that bordered on something more. The weight of their scrutiny made Y/N shift slightly, an unease creeping through her as she became acutely aware of her outsider status.

Ka’Thar and Vey’Ta noticed the stares immediately. Their reaction was subtle but unmistakable. Ka’Thar, who had been leading just a step ahead of her, slowed his pace slightly, adjusting his position so that his massive frame was more directly between her and the onlookers. His mandibles tensed, a slight shift in posture that made it clear he was aware of the lingering gazes. Vey’Ta, walking at her side, let out a low, rumbling click—a warning. It wasn’t aggressive, but it carried enough weight that the Youngbloods quickly averted their eyes and resumed their training. One, however, lingered a moment too long, eyes narrowing slightly in appraisal before finally turning away. The message was clear: Y/N was under their protection. The moment passed quickly, but the tension remained, lingering beneath the surface like an unspoken challenge. A silent, primal assertion of dominance hung between them, a reminder that while she was new to this world, she was not without guardians.

Finally, they reached a tent set apart from the rest, larger and reinforced with thick materials that suggested it belonged to someone of notable status. Ka’Thar pulled back the entrance flap and motioned for Y/N to step inside. The interior was dimly lit, the glow of a single heating source casting long, shifting shadows along the walls. It was noticeably warmer here than outside, the insulation holding in the heat. The ground was layered with thick furs, some from creatures Y/N couldn’t begin to identify. Makeshift furnishings occupied the space—rugged, functional, and built for practicality rather than comfort.

Ka’Thar’s mandibles twitched slightly, his expression unreadable as he finally spoke. "You will stay here."

Vey’Ta followed her inside, setting down a bundle of additional furs near the sleeping area. "For warmth," he said simply, glancing at her before looking away again, an odd hesitancy in his demeanor.

Y/N looked between them, the weight of the day settling on her shoulders. There was an unspoken tension in the air, an acknowledgment that things had shifted since their arrival. The clan had accepted her presence—for now. But what that meant, what came next, was something she couldn’t yet grasp.

[blairwritingscript]

**Hunters of the Silent Moon p.7**

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six)

(part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten)

------------------------------------------------------

Vey’ta and Ka’Thar stood in the dim glow of the observation chamber, their imposing forms outlined against the vast darkness of space. Their homeworld loomed ahead, its familiar silhouette growing larger by the hour. By all measures, their mission was nearly complete. Yet, neither warrior spoke for a long time.

Vey’ta kept his gaze locked on the void beyond, his mandibles shifting slightly in contemplation. He was not one to waste time on sentimentality, yet his thoughts lingered on their human subject. Humans were prey—sometimes tools, nothing more. And yet… she had endured.

Ka’Thar eventually turned from the window, his posture rigid with focus. “We are nearly there.

Vey’ta inclined his head, his tone thoughtful. “She will not welcome what awaits her.”

“That is irrelevant.” Ka’Thar’s voice was as resolute as ever, but there was something subdued in his response. The purpose of their mission had been clear from the beginning. She was a means to an end, a variable in their species' ongoing pursuit of strength. And yet, despite his initial indifference, something gnawed at the edges of his certainty.

Vey’ta finally broke the silence, his mandibles twitching. “She has altered your perspective.”

Ka’Thar exhaled slowly. “And yours?”

Vey’ta did not answer right away. He thought of how she had trembled in her chamber, wrapped in the furs he had given her, and how she had continued to push herself through exhaustion. Even after learning the truth of why she was here, she had not broken.

“She is not weak,” he admitted at last. “She deserves more than to be discarded.”

Ka’Thar observed him for a moment before releasing a low, knowing growl. “You mean to challenge this.”

Vey’ta met his gaze. “Would you stand against me?”

Ka’Thar’s tusks parted slightly in amusement. “No. But you may not be alone.”

They stood in silence for a few more moments before turning toward the corridors of the ship. Ahead of them lay their home, its traditions, its expectations. And for the first time, neither was certain if they were prepared to face what came next.

-----------

Y/N stirred as a subtle shift in the air pressed against her senses. The temperature had risen significantly, a stark contrast to the numbing cold she had grown used to. The floor beneath her vibrated, the steady hum of the ship deepening into something heavier, more turbulent. A faint lurch pulled at her stomach, and she braced herself against the wall of her chamber.

She frowned, glancing toward the sealed door. There were no windows, no way to see what was happening. But something was changing. The ship itself groaned under the shift in pressure, and a deep, distant roar reverberated through the walls.

Are we landing?

The thought sent a wave of unease coursing through her. The knowledge of what awaited her beyond these walls had settled in her gut like a stone, and yet, now that they were truly approaching their destination, the reality of it hit her with new force.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of the furs Vey’ta had given her, her thoughts spiraling. There had been no more discussions since the revelation of her purpose. She had spent the last stretch of the journey in near silence, avoiding their gazes whenever possible. What else was there to say? They had been clear—she had been chosen for what she could provide, not for who she was.

And yet… something about their behavior had changed. She had seen it in the way Vey’ta lingered when bringing her the furs, in how Ka’Thar had kept a closer watch over her. They were warriors, trained in discipline and purpose, yet their conviction had wavered, if only for a moment.

Did that mean anything? Could it mean anything?

The ship jolted again, sharper this time, and she inhaled deeply, pushing her thoughts aside. Whatever doubts lingered between them, whatever shifting emotions had begun to surface, they wouldn’t change the reality of what was to come.

She was about to step foot on their world.

And she had no idea what awaited her there.

Then, just as suddenly as the turbulence had begun, it ceased. A thick, heavy silence settled over the chamber, unnatural in its stillness. Y/N barely had time to catch her breath before the door hissed open.

Ka’Thar stood in the doorway, his massive frame nearly blocking the exit. His piercing gaze swept over her, assessing her condition. Behind him, Vey’ta loomed, his posture less rigid, though there was an air of expectation in the way he stood.

"We have arrived," Ka’Thar stated, his deep voice reverberating through the chamber. "Come."

Y/N hesitated. Her limbs were sluggish, weighed down by the lingering effects of exhaustion and the change in gravity. Still, she pushed herself to her feet, determined not to show weakness. As she stepped forward, Vey’ta shifted slightly to the side, allowing her passage. The air outside her chamber was thick and humid, carrying an unfamiliar scent—earthy, metallic, and tinged with something primal.

As they walked through the ship’s corridor, distant noises filtered through the hull—deep, guttural hums, interspersed with low growls and the distinct clicking she had come to associate with Yautja speech. Her pulse quickened, anticipation and unease tangling in her chest.

Then the ship’s hatch groaned open.

Blinding sunlight poured inside, forcing Y/N to raise a hand against the sudden glare. The warmth was immediate, wrapping around her like a heavy cloak. When her vision adjusted, her breath hitched in her throat.

Before her stood an assembly of Yautja—dozens of them. Their towering forms were arranged in a loose semicircle, each set of eyes trained solely on her. Some bore intricate armor, their weapons gleaming under the harsh alien sun. Others stood bare-chested, displaying powerful physiques and battle-worn scars.

And then, at the forefront, stood the largest Yautja she had seen yet.

He dwarfed even Ka’Thar, his presence alone exuding authority. His armor was adorned with elaborate engravings, and a deep crimson cape draped over one broad shoulder. Unlike the others, his mask bore intricate etchings, denoting status and experience.

The tribe leader.

His gaze settled on her, piercing and unreadable. A low, rumbling growl emanated from his chest, a sound that rippled through the gathered warriors like a silent command. The air grew tense. Stillness followed.

Y/N remained where she stood, sandwiched between Ka’Thar and Vey’ta, hyper-aware of every eye on her. In that moment, she felt less like a guest and more like an offering—a single prey before a gathering of predators.

[blairwritingscript]

**Hunters of the Silent Moon p.6**

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six) (part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten)

---------------------------------------------------

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the untouched tray of food beside her. The meal, their attempt at something more palatable, had long gone cold. Her appetite had vanished after the conversation earlier. "Breeding specimen." The words echoed relentlessly in her mind, each repetition twisting the phrase into something heavier, something more unsettling. The Yautja had explained it with the same calculated logic they used to discuss hunting strategies—pairing the strongest to produce even stronger offspring. To them, it was a necessity. To her, it felt like a violation of her autonomy, something deeply personal and intrusive.

The room, already cold from their deep-space travel, felt even more stifling now. The metallic walls seemed to close in around her, the dim lighting casting elongated shadows that only deepened her unease. She pulled Vey’ta’s cloak tighter around herself, fingers gripping the fabric like a lifeline. It still carried the faint scent of him—sharp, almost earthy, mixed with something unfamiliar. It was a small comfort, but it wasn’t enough to quiet her racing thoughts. Her mind spiraled, trying to grasp the reality of her situation. If she had been chosen for her strength, did that mean she was respected, or simply useful? Was she anything more than a means to an end?

A knock at the door pulled her from her spiraling thoughts. She hesitated before muttering, "Come in." The door slid open with a hiss, and Ka’Thar stepped inside, his imposing frame effortlessly filling the space. His gaze flickered to the uneaten food, then back to her. He let out a quiet, almost resigned chuff before stepping closer.

“You need to eat,” he said, his tone softer than usual. “Weakness will not serve you.”

Y/N exhaled sharply through her nose. “I know that.” She glanced at the tray before looking away again. “I just... I haven’t exactly felt hungry.”

Ka’Thar studied her in silence before settling down across from her, the floor creaking slightly beneath his weight. “It is our way,” he stated, not unkindly. “For us, for our kind. Strength must be ensured. The next generation must surpass the last.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, her fingers curling into the cloak. “And what about what I want?” she asked, her voice quieter but no less firm. “Do I even have a say in any of this, or was I chosen because you knew I wouldn’t get a choice?”

Ka’Thar remained silent for a long moment. His mandibles flexed, and his usually unreadable eyes seemed to search her face. Finally, he rumbled, “You misunderstand. You were not chosen because you have no say. You were chosen because you are among the strongest of your kind.”

That didn’t make it any easier to swallow. She bit the inside of her cheek, resisting the urge to snap back. Instead, she released a slow breath. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

Ka’Thar exhaled through his nose, the Yautja equivalent of a sigh. He reached for the tray, lifting it and holding it out to her again. “Eat,” he said simply. “You are not just a ‘specimen.’ You are part of this ship now, soon part of our tribe.”

Y/N hesitated before slowly taking the tray from his hands. It was a small gesture, but something about it felt significant. Maybe this was the closest thing to understanding she was going to get from him.

As she took a small bite of the now-cold meal, she realized one thing—this conversation wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. And for the first time since hearing the truth, she felt the smallest flicker of control. If she was to be part of this, then she would decide how.

The quiet was broken by the soft hiss of the door sliding open. Vey’ta stepped inside, his broad form partially blocking the dim light from the corridor. In his arms, he carried a bundle of thick furs—alien in texture and color, a mix of pelts from creatures she could not name. He moved with an unusual hesitance, his steps measured, deliberate, as if mindful of disrupting the fragile stillness in the room.

“These will help with the cold,” Vey’ta said, his voice softer than usual. He placed the furs beside her, their weight pressing into the bed. “And comfort. It is… better than metal.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers grazing the top layer. The material was unfamiliar yet undeniably warm, far softer than she expected. The gesture caught her off guard. It was unexpected—thoughtful in a way she wasn’t sure how to process. She lifted her gaze, searching his face for any sign of deeper meaning, but his expression remained carefully neutral. If there was something more behind this, she wasn’t seeing it.

Ka’Thar, however, did. He exhaled quietly, his mandibles twitching in subtle amusement. Vey’ta was careful, but not careful enough to evade another Yautja’s notice. Ka’Thar recognized what this was—an offering, a first step in something far more instinctive. A display of care, of attention, something tailored specifically to her. Whether Vey’ta was fully aware of it or simply following an innate pull, the intent was clear to him.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Y/N murmured, pulling one of the furs closer. The warmth seeped into her skin almost instantly, easing the ever-present chill. For the first time in days, something felt… nice.

Vey’ta tilted his head, mandibles shifting slightly. “It was necessary.”

Ka’Thar snorted but refrained from comment, arms crossing over his chest as he observed the interaction. Vey’ta lingered near the bed for a moment longer before stepping back, though something in his posture suggested reluctance. The silence between them stretched, heavy yet not uncomfortable.

Y/N shifted, adjusting the furs around her. The warmth wasn’t just physical—it was grounding, an anchor against the relentless uncertainty of her situation. Until now, she had been treated as an asset, a means to an end. This—this was different.

Vey’ta hesitated near the doorway, his mandibles flexing as if he wanted to say more. Finally, he settled on, “You should rest. Your body needs it.”

Y/N nodded, though she wasn’t sure if rest would come easily. The weight of the day still clung to her, the revelation of why she had been brought here pressing in from all sides. But exhaustion was real, undeniable, and the unexpected comfort of the furs made the sterile, metallic room feel just a little less foreign.

Ka’Thar turned to leave but cast a final glance at Vey’ta. There was something unspoken between them, a quiet acknowledgment. Y/N missed it entirely, already pulling the furs tighter around herself.

Vey’ta lingered just a second longer before his gaze flickered toward her once more. He seemed on the verge of speaking but ultimately left whatever thought he had unspoken. The door hissed shut behind them, leaving Y/N alone in the dim silence.

She curled instinctively into the furs, allowing herself, for the first time, a sliver of comfort. Sleep came slowly, but this time, it came.

-

The door sealed shut behind them with a soft hiss. Ka’Thar walked beside Vey’ta, his movements unhurried, his thoughts elsewhere. The two strode down the metallic passage, their heavy footfalls echoing in sync.

“You are transparent,” Ka’Thar finally said in their native tongue, the low, guttural syllables rumbling from his chest. His mandibles twitched in amusement as he glanced sideways at Vey’ta. “That was a display. An offering.”

Vey’ta exhaled sharply, his mandibles flexing in mild irritation. “It was practicality,” he corrected, though he knew Ka’Thar would not let it go so easily. “She is weaker in body. The cold affects her. If she perishes, the experiment fails.”

Ka’Thar’s gaze remained steady. “You speak as though it is only logic that drives you.” He paused before adding, “I see the way you look at her.”

Vey’ta clicked his tusks together in annoyance but did not immediately reply. Had he been so obvious? It was not something he had consciously acknowledged before. His instinct had been to provide—something within him had pushed him to ease her suffering, however small the gesture. He had given her warmth, not because it was necessary for her survival, but because he had wanted to. And that troubled him.

Ka’Thar let out a thoughtful rumble. “She is different.”

Vey’ta nodded reluctantly. “She should not have lasted this long,” he admitted. “Her kind is fragile. Untrained. And yet…”

“She does not break.” Ka’Thar finished the thought, his voice carrying something close to admiration. He folded his arms over his chest as they continued walking. “Many in her place would have succumbed by now. Even some of our own have faltered under similar conditions. She fights to endure, even knowing the role she has been given.”

Vey’ta considered that. Human females were small compared to their kind, physically inferior in almost every way, yet this one had proven resilient. Despite exhaustion, pain, and the constant weight of uncertainty pressing down upon her, she had not collapsed into despair. Not yet.

“There is strength in her,” Vey’ta said finally, his tone measured. “Not the kind that can be easily seen, but the kind that lasts.”

Ka’Thar let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head. “Careful. I think you are beginning to admire her.”

Vey’ta growled lowly in warning, but Ka’Thar only bared his tusks in amusement.

They reached an observation chamber overlooking the dark expanse of space, the glow of distant stars reflecting off the reinforced glass. Ka’Thar leaned against the frame, staring out. His tone was more serious when he next spoke.

“I did not think this would be more than a duty,” he admitted. “Take the specimen, test her limits, determine the viability of our people merging with hers. But now, I begin to wonder.”

Vey’ta inclined his head. “Wonder what?”

Ka’Thar exhaled, mandibles twitching slightly. “If our people have misjudged hers. If there is more to them than weakness.” He looked at Vey’ta then, sharp-eyed. “If she is more than just a means to an end.”

Vey’ta was silent for a moment. The idea had already been forming in his mind, though he had not yet given it words. “Would it change anything if she was?”

Ka’Thar didn’t answer right away. He only turned his gaze back to the stars, lost in thought. Their kind had always valued strength—physical dominance, unshakable will, the ability to conquer and control. Yet here was a human, frail by their standards, proving to be something unexpected.

After a long pause, Ka’Thar finally muttered, “Perhaps.”

[blairwritingscript]

**Hunters of the Silent Moon p.5**

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six) (part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten)

-------------------------------------------------------

The next day, Y/N braced herself for another grueling session with Ka’Thar. But as they entered the training chamber, something was different. The air still carried the crisp chill that had become a constant presence, but the usual tension of immediate, relentless combat was missing.

Ka’Thar moved with a little less aggression, his strikes still powerful but measured, giving Y/N just enough time to react without being overwhelmed. He wasn’t letting her off easy, but the small allowance was noticeable. Even Vey’ta, who often observed quietly, offered small corrections rather than just watching her struggle.

At first, Y/N wasn’t sure what to make of it. Were they pitying her? Testing something else? But as the session went on, she realized—this was their version of adapting. They had seen her struggle, seen the toll it had taken, and instead of dismissing her, they were giving her the space to keep going without breaking completely.

For the first time in days, she didn’t feel like she was barely surviving. She was still exhausted, still sore, but she wasn’t drowning in it. And though Ka’Thar never said anything, there was something almost approving in the way he gave a small nod when she landed a solid hit on his arm, even if it barely made him budge.

After training, Y/N expected to return to her chamber and collapse, but Ka’Thar had other plans. Instead of dismissing her, he led her toward a small mess area where he and Vey’ta usually ate. There, set out on a metal tray, was something different from the bland, thick porridge they had fed her before. It was still simple—some kind of seared meat, slightly charred but undeniably more palatable.

Ka’Thar grunted and gestured to the food. "Easier for you to eat," he said simply.

Y/N hesitated, glancing between him and Vey’ta, who was watching with quiet interest. Then, she picked up a piece and took a bite. It was chewy but surprisingly decent. Certainly better than the paste-like meals she had been forcing down before.

She looked up at Ka’Thar, arching a brow. "Not bad. You trying to poison me?"

Ka’Thar let out a short, amused grunt—something that almost sounded like a chuckle. "If I wanted you dead, you’d know."

Vey’ta’s mandibles twitched in what Y/N was beginning to recognize as amusement. "It was a… learning process," he admitted. "But we figured it out." That meant Vey’ta and Ka’Thar had to experiment and adjust their approach to making food that Y/N could actually keep down. It also hinted at their growing willingness to accommodate her needs.

Y/N took another bite, the warmth of the food settling in her stomach in a way that was almost comforting.

The following days settled into a structured pattern—training, eating, resting—but something fundamental had shifted. The relentless pressure that had once threatened to break her now felt more deliberate, as if her trainers were testing rather than punishing her. Ka’Thar and Vey’ta weren’t necessarily lenient, but their approach had gained a layer of patience. When she stumbled, they no longer demanded she push past exhaustion; instead, they allowed her the space to recover. During spars, Ka’Thar no longer exploited her weaknesses to crush her entirely, but rather let her regain her footing before continuing.

And, for the first time, there were moments of quiet that weren’t weighed down by indifference.

After a particularly grueling training session, Y/N collapsed onto the bench in the mess area, her limbs trembling with fatigue. The meal placed in front of her was a nice surprise. cuts of meat—seared and slightly charred—sat alongside what appeared to be some form of vegetables. It was crude, yet clearly an attempt at something more familiar to her, which she appreciated .

She looked up at Ka’Thar and Vey’ta, who stood nearby, observing her reaction.

“This is new,” she muttered, picking up a piece with her fingers and taking a tentative bite. It was firm, slightly tough, but far more palatable than before.

Vey’ta clicked in what seemed to be satisfaction. “More suitable?”

Y/N swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Still chewy, though.”

Ka’Thar grunted, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Soft teeth,” he remarked, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness.

Y/N let out a dry laugh. “You try eating rocks every day and see how you like it.”

There was a pause, then Vey’ta spoke again, his voice quieter than usual. “You are adapting.”

Something about the way he said it made her stop chewing. It wasn’t just an observation—it was approval.

She set down the food and exhaled slowly. “I’m trying.”

Another brief silence stretched between them, but it felt different this time. Less strained. More… open.

Then, Ka’Thar finally broke it. “You deserve to know.”

Y/N blinked, looking between them. “Know what?”

Vey’ta shifted slightly, his mandibles twitching. “The reason you were chosen. Why you were brought here.”

Her breath hitched. She had waited days—weeks—for an answer. And now, finally, it was coming.

“You are not just being tested,” Ka’Thar continued. “You are being prepared.”

“For what?” Y/N asked cautiously.

Neither of them answered immediately, but the weight in their gazes told her that whatever came next would change everything.

A dense silence hung in the chamber, the weight of their explanation settling over her like a suffocating shroud. The words echoed in her mind, sharp and unrelenting. "Breeding specimen." The phrase alone sent a shudder through her. She sat on the edge of the cot, hands clasped together, her gaze fixed on the metal floor as if it might offer her some kind of clarity.

"So, that's it?" Her voice was quiet, but the strain behind it was impossible to miss. "You brought me here just to—" She stopped herself, inhaling sharply. "To make stronger Yautja? Like I’m some kind of experiment?"

Vey'ta shifted where he stood, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Not an experiment. A selection. Your resilience, your adaptability—these are valued traits."

She let out a humorless chuckle. "Oh, well, when you put it like that, it sounds so much more appealing." She shook her head, fingers curling into the fabric of her pants. "You don’t see anything wrong with this? You just take someone and expect them to—" She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "It’s not that simple."

Ka’Thar, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "We do not force. You are not a prisoner. But this is an honor. A union meant to strengthen bloodlines."

She lifted her head, meeting his gaze. "An honor for who? Because from where I’m sitting, it feels like I’ve lost everything—my home, my life. And for what? To be part of some breeding program?" Her voice wavered, a mix of exhaustion, frustration, and an overwhelming sense of isolation threatening to crack her resolve.

Vey’ta’s mandibles twitched slightly, but he remained silent. Ka’Thar, however, seemed to weigh her words more carefully.

"You are more than that. More than just your blood. You are proving strength. Proving worth."

She scoffed. "And if I don’t want to prove anything? What then?"

Neither of them answered immediately, and the silence stretched, filled only by the distant hum of the ship’s engines. It wasn’t comforting. But it was something.

She exhaled slowly, the enormity of their expectations pressing down on her. "I need time," she murmured. "To think."

Ka’Thar gave a slow nod, and for once, there was no argument. "Then think. But do not mistake our ways for cruelty."

She didn’t respond. Because right now, she wasn’t sure if that distinction really mattered.

[blairwritingscript]

**Hunters of the Silent Moon p.4**

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six) (part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten)

--------------------------------------------------

The passage of time lost meaning in the relentless cycle of training, exhaustion, and fleeting moments of uneasy rest. Each grueling session with Ka’Thar stripped away more of Y/N’s reserves, forcing her body into a brutal adaptation.

Her muscles burned—a relentless, gnawing ache that refused to fade—while fatigue settled deep into her bones, clinging like an unshakable weight. Every movement felt sluggish, her limbs dragging as if wading through unseen resistance, yet she pressed on, unwilling to yield. Her limbs felt heavy, as though gravity itself had doubled, yet she pushed forward. There was no luxury of respite, no allowances for weakness—only the expectation to endure, to prove herself worthy in the eyes of creatures who had no obligation to care if she collapsed.

As the ship delved deeper into the void, the artificial warmth thinned, replaced by an encroaching chill that slithered through the air vents and coiled around her body like an unwelcome phantom. The ship’s structure, optimized for Yautja physiology, offered little insulation against the growing cold. Whether by necessity or by intent, the vessel prioritized its hunters—beings conditioned for the extremes of unforgiving worlds—over a lone human struggling against forces beyond mere physical hardship. The ship’s design, composed of cold, unyielding metal, lacked insulation against the deepening chill, an intentional oversight for a species that thrived in harsh conditions. The cooling systems, calibrated for Yautja physiology, ensured their comfort while making no concessions for an outlier like her. The temperature was not merely an inconvenience; it was a calculated factor, another silent test she was expected to withstand.

At first, she barely noticed, her mind too preoccupied with the bruises layering over old wounds. But as the days wore on, the cold became an adversary in its own right. It stiffened her joints, numbed her fingers, and stole heat from her body faster than she could generate it. Even the exertion of combat failed to fend it off entirely.

Ka’Thar remained unbothered, his formidable frame unaffected by the plummeting temperature. If he noticed her growing struggle, he made no mention of it. His gaze remained impassive, unreadable—whether out of indifference or deliberate testing, she couldn't tell. Perhaps he expected her to overcome it on her own, a silent challenge woven into the training itself. Or maybe, to him, her suffering was too insignificant to acknowledge. His focus never wavered, his expectations unchanged. Perhaps he saw the cold as just another obstacle, another measure of her worth. Or perhaps he simply didn’t care.

Regardless, he pushed her with the same relentless force, each strike a demand that she adapt or fail. And Vey’ta, ever the silent observer, remained on the periphery, his gaze unreadable. Yet there was something in the way he watched—an attentiveness that suggested more than passive observation. His mandibles twitched occasionally, his weight shifting subtly as though assessing something beyond mere physical endurance. Was he studying her? Judging her potential? Or was there something else, some unspoken curiosity that kept his gaze lingering just a moment too long? He watched, as he always did, but offered neither reprieve nor condemnation.

Y/N’s world had narrowed to its most basic elements—persistent hunger, lingering soreness, the ceaseless vibration of the ship’s systems, and now, the creeping numbness settling into her bones. The test she faced was no longer just physical; it was attrition, a slow erosion of self that forced her to redefine what she could endure. The ship itself seemed to conspire against her, stripping away comfort, stripping away warmth, until only willpower remained between her and collapse.

Something had to give. The question was, when—and whether she would shatter before she found a way to survive, or if the cold, the exhaustion, and the unrelenting weight of expectation would break her down to something unrecognizable first.

The relentless days had stretched into an eternity, and by the time the eleventh day arrived, Y/N could no longer push forward. The fire that had once driven her, the sheer stubborn refusal to break, had dimmed to embers. Her body was battered, her mind frayed. Every ache, every bruise, every unrelenting second of cold pressed down on her with unbearable weight. She was drowning in exhaustion, her endurance no longer enough to carry her forward.

Curled up on the narrow bedlike structure in her assigned chamber, she clung to herself for warmth, her limbs drawn tight in a desperate attempt to conserve what little heat remained. Her breath trembled as it left her lips, visible in the freezing air. The ship was silent, save for the ever-present hum of its systems, a dull reminder that she was alone in a place never meant for her kind. The walls felt narrower than before, pressing in around her, suffocating her under the weight of isolation.

The door hissed open, but she barely reacted. She had nothing left to give.

Vey’ta was the first to step inside, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her curled form. He hesitated, his posture lacking the rigid authority she had come to associate with him. Instead, there was something else—something almost hesitant in the way he approached. His mandibles clicked softly, a measured sound, before he crouched beside the bed.

"You are weakening," he observed, his voice lacking the usual detachment. "You cannot continue like this."

Y/N didn't respond. There was no point in denying it.

Ka’Thar entered next, his usual imposing presence filling the room, but this time, he did not loom over her like a judge awaiting a verdict. He remained near the doorway, arms crossed, observing her in silence. When he finally spoke, his voice was different—not softer, but lacking its usual demand.

"Why do you allow yourself to falter now?"

She let out a hollow laugh, the sound weak even to her own ears. "Because I’m human," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wasn’t built for this."

Vey’ta tilted his head, studying her. "You have endured more than many would. That is not weakness."

Ka’Thar exhaled sharply, his claws flexing at his sides. "This is not failure, but neither is it an end."

A pause settled between them, thick with something Y/N couldn’t quite name. Pity? No, not from them. But there was something else—recognition. Understanding.

After a long silence, Vey’ta reached into a small satchel at his waist and pulled something free. A thick, fur-lined cloak—primitive in its design but unmistakably warm. Without a word, he draped it over her, his claws briefly brushing against her shoulder before withdrawing.

Y/N stiffened, caught off guard by the unexpected kindness. "Why—?"

"Adaptation is not only about strength," Vey’ta said simply. "It is knowing when to endure and when to recover."

Ka’Thar remained still, watching the exchange before he finally nodded once. "Rest now. Tomorrow, you rise again."

There was no cruelty in his tone, no impossible demand—only expectation, tempered with something new. Something almost resembling patience.

Y/N swallowed hard, her fingers curling into the thick fabric of the cloak. For the first time since she had been taken, she didn’t feel entirely alone.

As the warmth of the cloak seeped into her frozen limbs, her thoughts slowed, no longer racing with doubts and fears. The exhaustion remained, heavy and suffocating, but something within her shifted. A small ember reignited—not the blazing fire of defiance that had fueled her before, but something steadier, something meant to last.

She allowed her eyes to close for a moment, exhaling a slow breath. The weight of survival still pressed upon her, but perhaps it was no longer hers to bear alone. Perhaps, in their own way, they had accepted her as something more than a test subject—more than a captive. It wasn’t trust, not yet, but it was a start.

Footsteps retreated, and the door sealed once more, leaving her in silence. But this time, it did not feel so suffocating.

Maybe, just maybe, with a little help, she could survive this all.

[blairwritingscript]

**Hunters of the Silent Moon p.3**

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six) (part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N sat on the sleeping platform, fingertips gliding over the unfamiliar texture beneath her. The material was firm, almost rubberized, lacking any real comfort but significantly preferable to the unyielding metal floor where she had previously been kept. The chamber around her was dimly illuminated, its walls composed of dark alloy etched with angular, almost ritualistic markings. The air carried a distinct metallic tang, underscored by an earthy musk that reminded her of damp stone and scorched iron. Embedded symbols pulsed faintly, casting an eerie glow over the array of weapons meticulously mounted on the walls—serrated blades, curved wrist gauntlets, and tools of unknown purpose, each a silent testament to the lethality of her captors.

Why had Vey’ta intervened on her behalf? And why now?

The Yautja remained an enigma—highly intelligent, brutally efficient, and bound to a code she did not yet understand. This shift in treatment was not born of kindness; she knew better than to believe in such sentiment. But it was calculated, strategic. There was a reason for it, and she needed to figure out what that was before it was too late.

A sharp chime reverberated through the room. The door slid open with a mechanical hiss, and Vey’ta entered, carrying a tray laden with unfamiliar sustenance. He placed it on a metal table affixed to the wall and took a deliberate step back, studying her with that same unwavering intensity.

“You are not consuming enough,” he observed, his deep voice resonating through the space.

Y/N eyed the offering. Though she had been given food before, she had barely touched it, her appetite suppressed by a constant undercurrent of tension. But survival demanded strength, and weakness was not an option.

She hesitated before selecting a piece of the alien fare, biting into its fibrous texture. It was denser than expected, the taste unfamiliar yet not unpleasant. She chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, then met his gaze. “You don’t have to do this.”

Vey’ta tilted his head in that distinctly inhuman way. “I choose to.”

That answer unsettled her more than she cared to admit. There was intent behind it, something beyond mere obligation. But what?

The silence between them thickened before Y/N finally broke it. “What happens next?”

Vey’ta did not answer immediately. His mandibles flexed slightly, as though he were selecting his words with care. “You will be tested soon.”

Her grip on the food tightened. “Tested how?”

His mask reflected the dim light as he regarded her. “You will see.”

Not exactly reassuring.

Y/N placed the tray aside, her stomach tightening with unease. “And if I fail?”

Vey’ta hesitated. When he spoke again, his tone was quieter, almost measured. “Then you will not require a room any longer.”

A cold finality laced his words. Y/N exhaled slowly, steadying herself before leveling her gaze at him. “Then I guess I’d better not fail.”

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes—acknowledgment, perhaps? Amusement? She couldn’t tell. But he nodded once before pivoting toward the door.

As the panel sealed shut behind him, Y/N clenched her fists. Whatever awaited her, whatever this so-called test entailed, she would be ready.

Time passed in an unbroken cycle. The artificial lighting in her chamber remained unchanged, leaving her disoriented—uncertain of how many hours, or even days, had slipped by. Sleep was restless, fractured by an ever-present vigilance. She forced herself to eat, to maintain what little control she had left over her own body.

She had settled into a rhythm, however fragile—eating, resting, keeping herself alert. Uncertainty lingered, but she refused to let it consume her.

Then, the summons came.

The door slid open, but this time, Vey’ta was not alone. Ka’Thar stood beside him, his posture rigid with impatience, his arms crossed in a manner that suggested both skepticism and disdain. His mandibles flared slightly, as if doubting the worth of what was about to transpire. Where Vey’ta carried an air of measured observation, Ka’Thar radiated uncontained aggression. His presence alone was a warning.

Vey’ta inclined his head toward the open hallway. “It is time.”

Y/N exhaled evenly, keeping her expression unreadable. Whatever lay ahead, she would face it. She followed them out, her senses sharpening as they moved. The corridor was vast, lined with the same pulsating glyphs, its metallic walls carrying the distant, rhythmic hum of unseen machinery.

As they walked, Vey’ta finally spoke again. “You must survive.”

Y/N cast him a sidelong glance. “Survive what?”

Ka’Thar let out a low, guttural growl, clearly irritated by her insistence on questioning. “You waste breath.”

But Vey’ta did not dismiss her inquiry so easily. “A trial of strength. Training. You will be tested as we are. Prove yourself, and you will earn more than survival.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched. There was no turning back now. Whatever this test entailed, she would endure it.

Failure was not an option. She would endure, adapt, and find a way to turn this test into her advantage.

Y/N walked in step with Vey’ta and Ka’Thar, her mind racing as they navigated the dim corridors of the Yautja vessel. The rhythmic hum of the ship’s systems reverberated through the walls, a constant reminder of the alien environment she was now confined to. Ahead, the passage opened into a vast chamber, its towering ceiling illuminated by the eerie glow of embedded glyphs, their meaning unknown to her.

The space was unmistakably an arena. The reinforced alloy floor bore deep gashes and scorches, silent evidence of countless combat trials. Weapon racks lined the walls, each holding an arsenal of deadly craftsmanship. In the shadows, several Yautja warriors loomed, their masked gazes trained on her, unreadable and unwavering.

Ka’Thar strode forward with deliberate steps, his towering form radiating an unspoken challenge. His shoulders rolled back in a display of dominance, and his mandibles flared slightly, a silent warning. Each movement was precise, calculated, as though assessing her worth before the battle had even begun. His mandibles flared slightly as he turned to her. "You are weak," he stated flatly, not as an insult, but as a fact. "You will learn. Or you will break."

Y/N fought back the impulse to lash out. Instead, she squared her shoulders and met his gaze. "Then teach me."

A brief pause. Then, without warning, Ka’Thar lunged.

Y/N barely reacted in time, twisting to dodge—too slow. A massive hand caught her shoulder and sent her tumbling. Pain ignited along her side, but she gritted her teeth, rolling to her feet before she even processed the impact. No reprieve was given. Ka’Thar was already closing in, his approach precise, calculated.

This wasn’t just combat. It was an assessment—a deliberate study of her limits, her instincts, and her potential. Every strike, every evasion was being measured, not just for physical strength but for resilience, adaptability. The Yautja valued the hunt, but this was something more; it was as if they were searching for something specific in her, something beyond mere survival.

She ducked the next strike, moving on instinct, though her body protested every motion. Muscles still weak from confinement, lungs burning, she forced herself onward. There was no alternative. Ka’Thar was relentless, each motion controlled, each attack testing her reactions. He was studying her, and through the pain, she understood: he wasn’t aiming to kill. He was determining whether she was worth the effort.

Time became a blur. Every failed dodge left fresh bruises, every successful evasion bought her only a fleeting second. Ka’Thar neither praised nor reassured. He struck—again and again—forcing her body to adapt, to react, or to crumble beneath the unrelenting assault. Each impact sent jolts of pain through her limbs, demanding more than endurance—demanding instinct, demanding transformation. There was no mercy, no hesitation, only the constant expectation that she would either rise to meet his blows or be broken beneath them. Yet, as exhaustion set in, something changed.

Her movements sharpened. She began to anticipate his attacks, even counter them—clumsy at first, but improving. And Ka’Thar noticed.

When she blocked his strike—truly blocked it—his mandibles clicked in what might have been amusement. His stance shifted, minutely, acknowledging something different about her now.

Vey’ta, standing to the side, remained silent, but she felt his gaze linger longer than before. There was no obvious judgment in his posture, no immediate sign of approval or disdain, but something about the way he watched her hinted at calculation—analyzing not just her performance, but perhaps her potential.

At last, Ka’Thar stepped back, signaling the end of the session. Y/N stood, her body aching, her breath ragged, but she had not fallen.

Ka’Thar studied her for a moment before offering a single nod. Then, without a word, he turned and exited the chamber.

Vey’ta approached, tilting his head. "You did not break."

Y/N exhaled sharply, wiping sweat from her brow. "I don’t plan to."

Something unreadable flickered behind his mask, but he said nothing. Instead, he gestured for her to follow. "Rest. You will need your strength."

As she fell into step beside him, she cast one last glance at the training ground. Ka’Thar had been ruthless, but she had seen something shift within him—something beyond mere indifference. His skepticism had not disappeared, but it had softened, tempered by what might have been the first glimmer of respect. The skepticism, the indifference—something else had surfaced beneath it.

Recognition.

[blairwritingscript]

**Hunters of the Silent Moon p.2**

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six) (part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The world around Y/N swam in a thick fog, disorienting her senses. Her body felt weightless, almost as if she were floating. She could hear the distant hum of machinery, the soft thrum of something large and mechanical pulsing around her. Every instinct in her body screamed for her to wake up, to fight, but she couldn’t move. Her eyelids fluttered, and slowly, her vision returned.

She found herself lying on a cold, smooth surface, her limbs still bound by the net. But this time, there was no jungle around her—no village, no familiar sounds of the night. Instead, a strange, dimly lit chamber stretched before her. Metallic walls glowed faintly, their contours alien, unfamiliar. Her breathing quickened.

A low hum reverberated in the air, followed by a click of movement. She tensed, panic rising like bile in her throat. Her muscles screamed in protest as she tried to sit up, but the net held her down firmly. She was trapped.

Then, from the shadows, the two figures emerged once more, their forms towering and terrifying in the unnatural light. The larger one—Ka’Thar—loomed over her with the cold, impassive presence of a hunter, his gaze unreadable behind the mask. But it was the second one, Vey’ta, that caught her attention.

He approached slowly, his movements more deliberate, his posture less threatening. His mask still gleamed with the same eerie, reflective lenses, but something about the way he moved felt different. Less predatory. More… cautious.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, and she twisted her body, struggling against the net again. "What do you want from me?" she growled, her voice hoarse but laced with defiance.

Vey’ta paused, his mandibles twitching, and Ka’Thar gave a low grunt beside him, his stance unwavering. "Silence," Ka’Thar muttered in his guttural tongue, clearly annoyed, though he did not yet step forward to restrain her further.

Vey’ta glanced at his companion before returning his focus to Y/N. His voice was lower, softer than Ka’Thar’s, and it held a curiosity that seemed almost... humane. "We have not come to harm you, human." He hesitated before continuing, as if choosing his words carefully. "We only need you... alive."

Y/N’s breath hitched in her chest. Alive? "What do you mean? Why?" she demanded, her gaze shifting between the two of them. "Who are you?"

Ka’Thar growled lowly, his patience clearly wearing thin, but Vey’ta didn’t seem as bothered. His mandibles clicked thoughtfully as he crouched beside her, the shadows of the room swirling around his hulking form.

"We are Yautja," he said, as if that explained everything, though it only left Y/N with more questions than answers. "And we need to study you."

Y/N blinked, her mind racing. She had never heard of creatures like these—this… Yautja. They were unlike anything she had imagined. But something in his tone, in the way he held himself, told her that there was more to this than mere aggression.

Ka’Thar stepped forward, his voice rough as he growled, "Enough with your games. We have no time for explanations."

"You are not the first of your kind we have taken," Vey'ta continued, his voice soft but firm. "But you... you are different. Stronger. We believe you have something to offer, something rare."

Y/N’s eyes widened. Was he… trying to communicate with her? Trying to explain himself? She met his gaze, searching his expression beneath the mask. There was no malice there, only an earnestness that unsettled her.

"What do you want from me?" she asked again, her voice trembling but still full of defiance.

Vey’ta’s mandibles clicked again, his head tilting as though contemplating her question. "We need your strength," he said, his voice still soft, almost apologetic. "For a hunt, for a test. It is a tradition. One we cannot complete without you."

The word "hunt" struck a chord in her mind, sending a surge of adrenaline through her body. The panic that had settled into her chest began to stir again, but this time, she kept it in check. She needed to understand, to find out what kind of game they were playing.

"A test?" she echoed, her eyes narrowing. "What kind of test?"

Ka’Thar moved impatiently behind Vey’ta, clearly done with the conversation. "Stop wasting time with her," he muttered. "We need to move."

Vey’ta, however, did not seem to share his urgency. His gaze softened as he turned back to Y/N. "It is a trial," he said, choosing his words carefully. "A test of survival, of endurance. If you pass, you will be freed."

Y/N’s heart pounded as she considered his words. The idea of freedom—that was the key. But it wasn’t the kind of freedom she’d imagined. It was a cruel game, a dangerous trial.

And yet, despite the danger, something in Vey’ta’s manner made her hesitate. Was it possible that he, at least, was not as cruel as Ka’Thar? Was there a chance she could find a way out of this alive?

"You have no choice," Vey’ta added quietly.

Y/N’s mind raced, her eyes flicking between the two Yautja. She was still trapped, but the thought of surviving—of escaping—made her heart burn with determination.

She wasn’t going to just lie down and accept her fate. Not yet.

"Fine," she said, her voice firm and resolute. "I’ll play your game. But if I survive, you better keep your promise."

Vey’ta’s mandibles clicked softly in what could almost be considered a smile. "We will. That is our word."

The air in the chamber was thick with tension as Y/N’s words settled between them. Ka’Thar grunted, clearly unimpressed with her resolve, while Vey’ta regarded her with something akin to intrigue. Without another word, he reached down, his claws slicing through the net with practiced ease. The bindings loosened, and Y/N’s body sagged against the cold metal beneath her.

She barely had a moment to recover before Ka’Thar grabbed her roughly by the arm, hoisting her up to her feet. The sudden movement sent a wave of dizziness crashing over her, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to stand. Weakness was not an option here.

“Move,” Ka’Thar growled, pushing her forward.

Y/N stumbled but caught herself, shooting a glare over her shoulder. Vey’ta, though silent, was watching her with that same calculated interest. He nodded slightly, as if encouraging her to obey as this was only gonna be a short visit to where she could clean herself before she would have to go back again.

With no other choice, she started walking.

The corridors of the ship stretched before her, an intricate labyrinth of alien architecture. The walls pulsed faintly with an eerie, bioluminescent glow, casting elongated shadows that shifted as they moved. The air was thick with the scent of something unfamiliar—metallic, almost organic. Every so often, the hum of machinery reverberated through the floor, vibrating up through Y/N’s body.

For two days, Y/N was kept in a small, cell-like chamber, barely larger than a storage closet. The floor was cold, the air stale, and sleep was difficult with the ever-present hum of the ship vibrating through the walls. Food was provided, though it was strange and unfamiliar, and the only interactions she had were with the two yautja who escorted her whenever necessary. She was constantly watched, constantly assessed.

But on the third day, everything changed.

When the door slid open, it wasn’t Ka’Thar waiting for her—it was Vey’ta. Instead of ordering her to move, he simply gestured for her to follow. Warily, she did.

This time, the corridors led somewhere different. When they finally stopped, Y/N was surprised to see a room—an actual room. It was still sparse, but far more accommodating than the cramped space she had been confined to. A proper sleeping platform, a small table, and even a basin of water awaited her.

She turned to Vey’ta, skepticism in her gaze. “Why?” she asked.

Vey’ta’s mandibles twitched in what could almost be considered amusement. “You have proven resilient,” he said. “Not weak. You deserve better.”

Y/N exhaled slowly, still uncertain of his motives. But after days of discomfort and confinement, she wasn’t about to argue. Instead, she stepped inside, glancing around cautiously before turning back to him. “Thanks,” she muttered.

Vey’ta nodded once before stepping back, allowing the door to slide shut behind him. For the first time since her capture, Y/N felt something close to relief.

[blairwritingscript]

**Hunters of the Silent Moon**

PAIRINGS : Yautjas x F!Reader

SUMMARY : Two yautjas come down and take you hostage on their ship to become an experiment.

AUTHORS NOTE : part 11 soon, I try posting two times a day, this fic is not dead :D

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six) (part seven) (part eight) (part nine) (part ten)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night was thick with humidity, the air alive with the chorus of insects and the rustle of unseen creatures in the dense jungle. A lone village lay nestled in the shadows of the towering trees, its simple dwellings dimly lit by oil lamps. The people slept, unaware that they were being watched.

High above, perched on the thick limb of a ceiba tree, two figures crouched—hulking, unseen, their presence masked by shifting waves of light and shadow. Their cloaking devices shimmered faintly against the moonlight filtering through the canopy. They had come to hunt, but not for sport. Tonight’s prize was no trophy, no skull to polish or spine to mount in honor.

Tonight, they sought a specimen.

**"The air here is thick with heat,"** the larger of the two Yautja rumbled in their guttural tongue, his voice distorted slightly through his bio-mask. His name was Ka’Thar, a veteran of many hunts. **"Strong stock. This world breeds survivors."**

Beside him, his younger companion, Vey’ta, adjusted his mask’s vision mode, scanning the village below. His mandibles twitched in consideration. **"We must be careful. They are fragile, but their kind is unpredictable."**

Ka’Thar let out a low, rumbling chuckle. **"That is what makes them valuable."**

For centuries, the Yautja had tested humanity, culling the strong and erasing the weak. But there were other uses for this species—uses that went beyond the thrill of the hunt. Their elders had deemed it necessary to bring back a female, one of prime genetic stock. Whether for experimentation, study, or something else, Ka’Thar did not question. He was a hunter, not a scientist. His duty was only to retrieve the target.

Vey’ta zoomed in on the village, his mask highlighting figures in warm shades of orange and red. **"There,"** he murmured, marking a young woman moving between the huts. She carried a bundle of firewood, her form lean but strong, her gait confident despite the darkness.

Ka’Thar studied her. **"That one. She will do."**

A silent agreement passed between them.

The hunt had begun.

The jungle was alive with sound, but she moved through it with practiced ease. The woman—Y/N—had grown up in this village, knew its paths, its dangers. The darkness did not frighten her.

She balanced the firewood in her arms as she stepped between the huts, her mind lost in thought. The night was unusually still now. No insects, no wind. A hush had fallen, like the world itself was holding its breath.

Then—

A whisper of movement.

Y/N spun, her heart hammering. Nothing. Just shadows shifting between the trees. She exhaled slowly, shaking off the unease. Maybe a jaguar, watching from the undergrowth. But the jungle cats always made their presence known before striking. This felt different.

She turned back toward her hut—

And froze.

A massive shape loomed before her, seemingly appearing from nowhere. The air around it shimmered, bending like heat waves before solidifying into something real. A towering figure, armored, monstrous. Its mask caught the moonlight, the reflective lenses locking onto her with a predatory focus.

Y/N dropped the firewood and bolted.

A guttural click echoed behind her.

Her feet pounded against the dirt as she sprinted between the huts, her breath sharp and ragged. She didn’t know what she had seen—only that it wasn’t human. She had to warn the others—

But then something hit her. Hard.

A heavy net exploded around her, tightening instantly, knocking her off balance. She crashed to the ground, gasping as the cords dug into her skin. She struggled, kicking wildly, but the more she moved, the tighter it constricted.

Boots thudded against the ground as the two beings approached.

Y/N’s breath came fast, her mind screaming at her to move, to fight. One of the creatures crouched beside her, tilting its head as it observed her. She caught a glimpse of its mandibles twitching beneath the mask.

**"She fights."** The voice was deep, distorted.

The second creature huffed. **"Good. The weak are not worth the effort."**

Y/N twisted, reaching for the knife at her hip. Her fingers found the handle, pulled—

The first creature moved in a blur. A powerful hand clamped around her wrist, stopping her effortlessly. The strength behind its grip was inhuman.

She bared her teeth, defiant. **"Let me go!"** she snarled, wrenching against the restraint.

The creature tilted its head again, as if considering her words. Then it reached up and pressed something on its gauntlet.

A sharp hiss—

And the world faded to black.

[blairwritingscript]

"Partners in Crime p3"

WORD COUNT: 1.6K

PAIRINGS: Venom/Eddie x Reader

SUMMARY: It all comes down to you being a very nonchalant bounty hunter desperate for a vacation or distraction, you got what you asked for and found... a partner?

WARNINGS: Mentions of fighting. little cursing. little alcohol. some head biting <3

A/N: B/N = bounty's name imma leave the name to your imagination. y/n/n = your nick name. Venom's text is written like this :)

Also I DO take requests.

* Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3

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Another day had gone by, You and Eddie were almost creating a morning routine. Earlier today thought you had found a lead so you and venom went out to check but it was false. It turned out to be some other gang member that had nothing to do with B/N.

You were disappointed and you wanted to go back home, but Venom had other plans and wanted to do something about your bad lead. He ATE him. You were startled at first, but it was not like Venom would have done that to you.. right? You didn't care about it since you had now created a bond with him, that and you really didn't want to know the answer.

You sighed, laying on the couch with your laptop on your stomach. It was rainy today so that automatically made everything seem more boring.

"Eddie" You called out.

Eddie looked up from his spot on the bed, his phone on the charger for having used it so much yesterday. "What's up?"

You sat up a bit "wanna watch a movie?"

Venom popped out immediately "YES, I HAVE BEEN DOING NOTHING FOR HOURS"

"I'll check the pantry for snacks, You choose the movie" You jumped up excitedly.

"Whatever you say, y/n/n" He said. You laughed softly. You had called him Eduardo 1 time, and now he calls you that. You didn't hate it. You actually liked being called that by him, It made you feel cool. He got up and sat down on the couch instead, turning Netflix on.

"okay, all set and done" He said with a grind on his mischievous face. You eyed him up and down, Your hands full with bags of chips and soda.

You jokingly slowly stepped towards Eddie, your eyes going to the title Spread across the tv screen.

You wanted to facepalm "really?" You dropped the snacks on the table.

"What? I thought you would like horror" His grin got wider.

"Don't get me wrong, I love horror. But did you really have to pick SCARY MOVIE?" You yell dramaticly as you point to it.

"you told me i could choose, so you'll have to watch it"

you tried to hide your smile and sad down next to him.

Eddie started the movie and grabbed one of the chips, placing it between the two of you. two became three when Venom appeared again. Eddie was glad that Venom's nagging in his head had stopped. NOPE, instead of just floating or whatever he wrapped a tendril around your waist and pulled you closer to Eddie.

You let out a gasp, Not expecting a bloody tendril to come out of your current roomie. Eddie stiffened. You felt that and decided to tease him by just getting comfortable against his side and holding softly onto his arm. Venom had moved to sit in between your neck and shoulder, Nuzzling himself into you.

This was weird yet also nice? it was new and you wouldn't change it for the world. You didn't want it to end, but you were still on a mission and were scared that if you had completed it that both of them would leave you all alone again. You shook off that negative thought and went back to watching the movie.

Eddie was still a bit stiffened up. You were so close, He could smell the fragrance of your shampoo lingering in your hair. You were warm too and the way you clung onto his arm made him all fuzzy on the inside.

Eddie had fallen asleep at some point during the movie and so had Venom. They were both basicly wrapped around you like you were some kind of plushie.

In the corner of your eye you saw your phone light up, You reached out and read the notification. This time you were sure it was b/n. You turned your head towards Eddie. You couldn't risk it so you carefully moved out of their grasp.

You put on some proper clothes and grabbed any equipment with you that you thought you would need. You got to the door and looked back them one last time. You would've left a note but you didn't want them to follow, so you just left.

It wasn't completely dark yet, You were trying to act normal as you went through the streets . You checked your phone to see if you were still going the right way, which you were.

You kept going until you arrived at your location. An alleyway. why did it always have to be either an alleyway or a warehouse. People can't be original these days. There was a singular door with a light above it. A faint talking could be heard from the other side, not much, but just enough for you to hear some familiar words about drugs you were all to interested in.

some minutes earlier.

The sound of a door closing woke the symbiote up. He looked around only to be met with no one at his side besides Eddie. He looked around your place and even knocked on the bathroom. There was no reaction whatsoever and he got worried. He knew that you were tough but he couldn't help the feeling that you could be in danger.

"Eddie, Wake up" Eddie groaned and opened his eyes. He looked at venom and the at.. you?

"Where is y/n?" He was fully awake in an instance.

"She has left us, Eddie. I do not not where to" Eddie looked at the tv. The movie was still playing so she couldn't have left long ago. Then he noticed her laptop was still turned on. He was certain that you would't leave without it. He hesitated but he really needed to know where you could've gone, he took it and found the message.

"She got him" He said "She has a location"

Venom didn't understand why you hadn't told them. He took control over Eddie's body and rushed to the window, Braking it open and jumping out. Eddie told him where you should be and the both of them went faster then they have ever gone to get to you.

You took out your gun, hand reaching for the handle of the door before pulling it open in a haste. You were met with maybe 10 to 15 people waiting for you. were they expecting you? You weren't sure but you knew that in the next moments you had to fight.

Venom quickly arrived at the spot, He saw an open door and loud noises coming from the dark doorway. He was already on his way but then he heard gunshots. Eddie was yelling inside of Venom to hurry up. He got in and was glad when he saw you being busy with other rookies. there were a few of them on the ground, not dead yet also not quite alive enough to move freely. The shooting had most likely come from your side.

Venom grabbed and punched some out of the way. The rookies whining and grunting when they were met with either the wall or venom's claws. You by now had noticed the big guy and hurried over to stand back to back with him.There still about five left.

"Why did you go alone, y/n?!" He almost sounded hurt. It made you feel bad and guilty, two feeling you weren't used to.

"I didn't want to pull you into this mess anymore!" You yelled, punching some of them off of you as they tried to cut you with their fucking daggers.

"It was our agreement, we don't go back on those" Venom yelled right back at you. "Besides you're a fragile human, you are our's!"

"I am not fragile, i have dealt with shit much worse than this!" that is where your mind went instead of processing the fact that he called you theirs. Venom was about to take out the last. You had to stop him since the actual fragile human who he held as a doll in his hand was your bounty.

"V, WAIT!" you smacked his arm "i need that one!" You grabbed your handcuffs and when venom let him back on the ground, still holding him in place for you, you cuffed him.

"finally, do you have any idea how much trouble and time i went through to get your ass" you scolded at b/n. Venom looked at you in aw as you were traumatizing the piece of shit.

You looked around you, there were a lot of people. they weren't of any importance of you so you took the only one you got payed for outside. Venom behind you.

After you had brought in your bounty you got your check. venom soon took you with him to the top of some building, Letting Eddie take over. Both sitting o the edge.

"So.." He started.

"So?" you smirked, leaning back on the palms of your hands as you take in the view of San Francisco.

"Are you gonna go now?" Eddie continued softly.

"I'm not sure, i mean.. there's already another bounty for me somewhere else" You spoke as quietly as him.

"can't we come with you, y/n?" he looked at you, trying to win you over.

You took a deep breath, sitting upright "and then what? become partners in crime or something?" You laughed sadly.

"Eddie, i'm gonna need you to kiss her" Venom told him forcefully in his head.

Eddie chuckled "how about just partners?" this time looking in your eyes.

You blushed but you didn't dare to answer that.

He moved closer, cupping your cheek with one hand as the other was placed gently on your hand. When he leaned in you moved away a little just before his lips reached yours "Are you sure you want to be with me?"

"are you sure you want to be with me, you mean?" he joked. You nodded. You now leaned in and your lips met in a soft but all meaningful kiss.

Venom got jealous and got out "and me?".

"Yes and you Venom" You smiled and cradled his face, kissing his forehead lovingly.

[blairwritingscript]

"Partners in Crime p2"

WORD COUNT: 1.5K

PAIRINGS: Venom/Eddie x Reader

SUMMARY: It all comes down to you being a very nonchalant bounty hunter desperate for a vacation or distraction, you got what you asked for and found... a partner?

WARNINGS: Mentions of fighting. little cursing. little alcohol.

A/N: B/N = bounty's name imma leave the name to your imagination. Venom's text is written like this :) also I DO take requests.

* Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3 *

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You groaned quietly when you were woken up from your sleep by the sun shining in your eyes. you tried to roll onto your other side but immediately regretted that when you body hit the ground. "ow.." you sat up, looking over at the bed but when you did you froze.

You originally expected to see your new friend there, only to be surprised by some random man laying there in his place. you slowly got up not wanting to make any noise.

You grabbed your handbag that you at some point of the night had thrown on the ground. you snatched your gun out and made your way over to the bed, pointing your gun at the stranger.

You weren't sure if Venom was some kind of werewolf thing that turned human at daylight but you couldn't take the risk.

"Venom?" You called out. No response.

"wake up" you nudged the man in his side with your foot. he stirred a bit but you continued to hear snoring.

You frowned and had enough of it "Hey Dipshit! Wake the fuck up!" you yelled and nearly pushed him off of the bed this time.

Eddie's eyes snapped open, sitting upright within seconds and looking at your gun before his eyes travel up to meet yours.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my bedroom?" He mumbled.

"okay, so not Venom" you thought.

"Who are YOU and Where is he?!" you fired back at him. you then raised your gun a little bit to remind him you had one and wasn't afraid to use it.

"Who?" Eddie was starting to get a bad feeling about this. Venom was slowly waking up as well.

"Venom, what did you do to him or where did he go" Your voice was steady, not wanting to actually deal with his shit so early in the morning.

"No idea who you are talking about" he lied.

You knew he did but tried to scare him into telling the truth. "I'm gonna shoot you if you don't tell me. and believe me i'm good at cleaning up evidence." Venom was now fully aware what was happening.

"Eddie, tell her" He said in Eddie's head.

"shut up" Eddie whisper yelled making you question his sanity.

"what?" Your gun now slightly pointed away from him.

Eddie took it as his chance to smack you pistol away from him and grabbing you, quickly standing behind you and holding you tightly enough so that you can't move. he still wasn't aware of his whereabouts.

"Let go of her Eddie!" Venom said loudly as he appeared out of Eddie's shoulder. You didn't see him from the angle you were being hold in.

"Venom?! help me out would ya??" you wiggled in his grasp, Your now free hand wrapped around Eddie's.

Now it was Eddie's turn to be confused as he finally glanced around your room. He was about to let go of you but you were quicker to kick him right in the nuts with the heel of you foot. He fell to his knees, cursing at the pain.

You stepped away and was now looking at the sight of some dude half-crying and a smaller version of venom attached to his shoulder.

"What. the. fuck. Nice to have gotten the warning that you are half human" you deadpanned.

"i'm sorry, again" Venom said, his head floating closer to you.

"Yeah yeah, it's okay i guess" You patted the symbiote.

"Have i missed something? i mean, who is is this?" Eddie rubbed his eyes, still not been given the time to properly wake up.

"she's-" Venom started. He blinked a few times "Wait you never told us your name"

You chuckled "You never asked" shrugging your shoulders.

"Eddie Brock" He introduced himself, lifting his hand which you shook hesitantly "y/n l/n"

"So..... can someone explain to me how i got here?" Eddie said awkwardly.

"Well Your friend messed up my hunt and now he want to help me get him. Coffee?" you ask, walking over to the kitchen.

"Yes please"

"Venom?" you questioned, already working on your's and Eddie's drinks.

"You have any chocolate?"

"I'm not sure, let me check" you Looked through the cabinets.

"So why did you drag us into this, Venom?" Eddie murmured quietly while you were busy.

Venom retreaded into Eddie for some more privacy "She is nice"

"Nice?? She pointed a gun at me" He whispered angry.

"And now she is making coffee for you" He had a point, it was just a misunderstanding. besides, he would probably have reacted the same if he found a stranger in his bed. minus the gun then.

"Found it!" you held up a chocolate bar, smiling. Eddie looked away, your smile was adorable. "I know it is" Venom replied in his mind before emerging again.

"There you go big guy" You gave him his treat.

You took the two cups and placed them on the table along with sugar and milk. you sat down at one of the chairs, Eddie doing so as well.

"You mentioned a hunt before, was that some kind of metaphor?" He sipped his hot coffee after he added some sugar.

"No, I'm a bounty hunter" You replied like it was the most normal thing in the world. Eddie chocked on his drink. He did NOT expect that from someone as sweet looking as you.

you patted his back. "that explains the gun for sure"

"Yup and i also wasn't kidding when i said that your buddy caused my hunt to go wrong" You frowned slightly, narrowing your eyes at a particular symbiote munching on his chocolate.

"He can be a handful, i know all about it" He too was now looking annoyed at his symbiote.

Venom noticed and went over to your side, nudging his head against yours. "is he always so clingy btw?" You asked, giggling.

"Not necessary in this way" Eddie chuckled at the sight before him. The two of you talked for a while,enjoying the early morning coffee.

"So how can we help, y/n?" Venom said when your conversation had finally died down.

You both finished your coffee by now and you topped up his again, putting your own cup in the sink "I was thinking that you might be helpful by scanning the news or recent tweets for any information on b/n. there is a picture of him on the table so you know what you're looking for"

"What are you gonna do?" Eddie asked as he whipped out his phone.

"I'm gonna get cleaned up and order us some food and snacks since it's most likely gonna take a while" You grabbed some clean clothes, heading to the bathroom.

"Hey" stopping in your tracks you turned to him once again.

"yes?"

"You're not what i would imagine when someone says bounty hunter"

You really hoped there was a 'but' coming.

"but" he continued "I like it"

You smiled brightly and got into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

"You like her, don't you Eddie?"

"WHAT?!" He started, immediately regretting saying that so loudly. "No i don't" he whispered harshly.

"It's okay, i like her too" Venom said triumphantly, grinning.

"I don't LIKE her you overgrown fungus" Eddie turned on the TV, switching it to a news channel.

"Yes you do"

"No i don't"

"Yes you do!"

"No i don't!" Eddie rose from his seat, slamming his hand on the table.

"Is everything alright in here?" You peeked around the door, your damp hair still clinging partially to your cheeks as you came out.

"Yes of course" Eddie smiled awkwardly.

"Okay?" you said with a suspecting smile.

"feel free to use the bathroom, you reek of alcohol" you added.

Eddie's eyes widened and he smelled his shirt, cringing at the fact that he did indeed smelled like that. "yeah, thanks. I don't have anything to change into though"

You walked to your stuff and went through it. You pulled out some male clothes and threw it to him "here, although i'm not sure if it fits"

"Who's clothes are these?" Venom asked with a hint of jealousy in his rough voice.

"Mine, i usually wear them when i need to go undercover" You told him in a cheery way.

Eddie was relieved at your statement. He didn't quite understand why but he was for sure happy with the clothing. You grabbed your hair brush and did your hair. "i'm gonna go order us some food, you prefer anything?"

"Anything is fine"

"Can we have McDonald's, y/n?" Venom said excitedly.

You looked at Eddie if that was alright, He nodded.

"Good, i have been graving for chicken nuggets since one second ago" You took your phone out and began to order.

Eddie disappeared into the bathroom where you heard the shower turning on. After you were done ordering you opened your laptop and searched for your still-on-the-run bounty, looking at the TV regularly. You also heard the faint sound of arguing coming from the bathroom but you decided to not pay attention to it.

After a while the food had come and Eddie was now sitting beside you on the couch, all of you eating and telling stories and laughing. Time was flying by, you had checked your phone multiple times but there has been nothing special. You now understood that your bounty was keeping a low profile and you will most likely be staying in San Francisco for a lot longer then you hoped. But you had some great company so maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

[blairwritingscript]

"Partners in Crime p1"

WORD COUNT: 2.1K

PAIRINGS: Venom/Eddie x Reader

SUMMARY: It all comes down to you being a very nonchalant bounty hunter desperate for a vacation or distraction, you got what you asked for and found... a partner?

WARNINGS: Mentions of fighting. little cursing. little alcohol.

A/N: B/N = bounty's name imma leave the name to your imagination. Venom's text is written like this :) also I DO take requests.

* Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3 *

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God did you want a vacation, but sadly your job didn't really work that way. It was your third bounty this month and it was only the 8th. Normally you would be hunting the lesser dangerous kind of people such as drug dealers or small gangs.

Your previous and first bounty this month was an example, it was someone who was illegally shipping stolen objects for a little while. It was rather easy since he was quite sloppy in "erasing" any traces.

this one was different. it felt.. different.

it took you long before you got a lead about B/N's whereabouts, but you found one anyways. It was all the way over in San Francisco though. At least it was a city with mostly little crimes so there shouldn't have been anything major to worry about.

As soon as you arrived at the airport you ordered a cap to a hotel downtown. Being a bounty hunter has its perks such as having quite a great loan. you didn't go to a 5-star hotel, you didn't want to have to much attention on you right away so you went for the slightly less expensive 4 star hotel.

Immediately plugging in your laptop you search the web a bit, news and blogs mostly helped you with finding locations of sketchy places.

Apparently it wasn't your lucky day cause you found absolutely nothing. Looking outside of your window you saw that the sun had already began to set. then your eyes moved to the bed and boy did it look comfortable right now.

You stood up from your spot on the sofa and and went through suitcase, picking up short and a thin tank top.

the night went by fast, too fast for your liking if you had to be honest.

You stayed in your improvised pajama's as you spend yet another part of your day looking online. it finally payed off when you saw something about suspected dealing in a bar only a few streets away from your hotel. you decided to go there later in the evening.

Well later came. You had dressed up nicely and went ahead on your 'mission' to find more info or perhaps find your bounty right away.

When you arrived at the bar you sat down at the higher stools on the right corner of where the bartender was toying around with the drinks, from this angle you could keep the whole place in check. Thinking you totally deserved it you ordered a Bloody Mary for yourself as well.

There were a few loners sitting around (probably trying to drink their problems away) you also spotted 2 couples and a little party in the other corner of the bar. You sighed quietly and sipped your drink.

"Eddie"

Eddie flinches slightly at the sudden voice in his head. "what?" He whispered.

"I'm sensing a weird smell in this place" Venom told him making Eddie look around a bit.

"I don't smell anything, maybe you smell the beer or something" Eddie dismissed venom's sense.

"You don't smell it because you're an idiot, Eddie"

Eddie frowned "ouch" he whispered annoyed. He on the other hand was already working on his 7th glass. "quit it man" he continued grumpily

Venom really wanted to smack Eddie right there and then. instead of doing that he just casually used Eddie to look at where the smell could be coming from.

Eventually he traced it to.. you. at first he wasn't sure if it actually came from you or the spot where you were currently seated. For now he's just gonna stay low.

Back to you and lady luck seemed to be on your side again. a man entered from one of the doors behind the bar. he wasn't much taller then you, blond hair, tattoo on his wrist and he definitely did not skip arm day!

Of course you have dealt with worse then him, even going as far as hunting down some sort of robot from Sokovia? But that didn't mean you could underestimate anyone that came in your path.

When he was about to walk out you paid for your drink and followed him from a few feet away.

Venom noticed it and he just left, not even feeling the slightest of guild for the bartender whatsoever. First as Eddie since he was out because of his low tolerance for alcohol.

When he was outside he walked after you a little wobbly and then went into an alley and became himself. climbing up a building and following you from up there.

After some minutes of following B/N he finally went into an alley himself. you thought nothing of it and did the same. big mistake.

Right when you turn the corner he holds out a knife towards you. "You think i'm so stupid that i wouldn't notice you tracking me, doll?"

you frowned at the little nickname, taking out a pair of daggers. you moved a bit so that your back wasn't vulnerable from behind as it was turned to the main street.

The guy put on a scowl when he didn't get an answer from you. He charged at you, his blade swinging every way except yours. you were better at dodging then fighting and that gave you countless opportunities to take him down.

you had to counter his blade with yours a few times but managed to make him run head first into the wall, giving you all the time you need to grab the handcuffs out of your pocket that you had carefully tucked there before you left your room.

It went all so smoothly, but all of a sudden something made a loud thud sound behind you. you were ready to turn around and face whoever was standing there. that was the original second plan but then you were roughly (and rudely) shoved against the wall. it took you a second to get your vision back, you looked at where you bounty is supposed to be but of course! he was just running away! escaping you just when you were so close to having the job done!

You shook your head and looked the direction of whoever or whatever made that happen.

that's when you say it.. him? her?

"You shouldn't do bad things, but i'm sure you'll make a good sn-"

honestly you didn't even care at this point. you stomped towards it like an angry toddler. pointing up at him aggressively.

"What is your problem!? Now my bounty is GONE because of YOU!"

Venom's eyes widened, not having expected a reaction like that from.. well.. anyone. he was frozen in place.

"i don't know what you are but have you ever heard of minding your own business?!" you shoved your finger into his chest, making him stumble back a little bit.

Everything hit him then. You're a hunter for bad people, like them.

"i am sorry" He said. it was so out of the blue that now you were frozen.

your shoulders slowly relaxed, a deep and bottled up sigh coming from you while rubbing your face in frustration. it was kinda cute to the symbiote.

you gave it one last glare before turning around and walking away.

Venom followed you, he made at first sure that there weren't any (or at least not a lot) of people walking in the street.

"you're not scared?" he asked quietly, walking a few meters behind you. it was annoying but it was a distraction from the silence that the night brought.

"why would i be? you're just an ass who messed up my hunt" you actually were a little freaked out because it's not on a regular base that you get followed around by an alien or whatever that thing is.

"i said i am sorry" venom got closer.

"you already said that but sorry doesn't make this situation better" you check your phone if there is anything on someone with maybe half a concussion walking through the street but yet again nothing show up.

"where are we going?" venom was now beside you, staring at you with those eyes?

you stopped "we?" you asked genuinely confused. "why would you want to come wherever i go?"

"i want to make up for it, that and you are interesting" you squinted your eyes, looking him up and down. interesting? you weren't sure if you had to take that as a complement, but besides his earlier attempt to do who knows what he seemed to be calm right now, friendly even.

"I'm going back to the hotel i stay in" you continued to walk again, it wasn't far and you were only a couple of streets away now but you were tired of today's events even when you stayed in your pj's for half of it.

"Do you want a lift?" Venom offered. "a lift?" you thought.

"but yo-" you started but were cut off when venom picked you up bridal style. He jumped up and latched onto a flat with his free arm. you hid your face from the wind and the only place to do that was his chest.

You wanted to scream your lungs out as venom casually hopped building after building. Your stomach began to feel like it wanted to scream too. You tapped Venom against his chest, hoping he would see it as a sign to stop. he did stop only not because of your tapping.

He looked down at you. "which hotel are you staying in?"

"first put me down please" you rubbed the bridge of your nose.

He did as you asked, you stepped closer to the edge of the roof. "Be careful" it was kinda sweet that he cared about your safety so you backed away for him. "501 Geary St, you know where that is?"

he nodded and was about to pick you up again. "ho ho, wait a second" you put your hands in front of you, gesturing to not do that.

"What's your name big guy?" you ask as you cock your head to the right.

"We are Venom" He said with confidence.

"We?" you questioned.

"ehh don't worry about it" He gives you a toothy smile. just the fact that you know that that is a smile considering how he almost always looks like he's smiling.

"okay? anyways, can i hold onto your back this time?" you smiled back.

He turns just like that, his back towards someone who is used to hunting people down (both legally and illegally). though you do have to admit that you wouldn't just try to hurt or capture some alien out of nowhere.

You climbed onto his back and we took off into the right direction this time. it was already past 1.30 am by the time you finally arrived at the window to your room. you opened it an got inside, happy when the warmth of it hit you cold skin.

the smile from before had returned to your face, hair a bit messy from the ride "you have anywhere you can stay, Venom?"

It took him a second to reply "i do, but it's very late" is what he said because he didn't want to admit that he didn't want to go, not even for Eddie who was still out cold.

you step aside, making room for him to come inside "then stay here"

He looked around. Eddie would have never been able to afford this. it was a large room with everything someone would need including a massive bed and TV.

you watched him admire the place, a small smirk forming onto your lips. you wanted to offer him the sofa but the you remembered his size. you sighed "you can take the bed if you want, i will sleep on the sofa"

Venom wanted to protest but he understood your decision. "thank you"

"lemme change real quick" you rushed over to your suitcase that was neatly placed on a rocking chair next to your bed, grabbing the pj's your wore the night before. you excused yourself again as you went to the bathroom to put them on.

Meanwhile Venom walked around until he got reminded that he was still with Eddie. He heard a soft grunt coming from the man within. feeling that he hadn't woken up he continued waiting patiently for you to come back.

as soon as you came back you flopped down onto the sofa, sleepiness overtaking you making you almost forget about your guest. you looked up "you can go to sleep if you want, or you can do.. ehm.. whatever you do?" you yawned halfway through that sentence.

"Goodnight" he passed you the bed's blanket which you happily accepted "Goodnight, V". he lay down on the bed. you wrapped yourself up in the blanket and fell asleep some minutes later while Venom was indulging in your smell that was printed in the bed. He smiled at himself and closed his eyes, ready to dream.

[blairwritingscript]

Let me introduce you to-

WORD COUNT: 884

PAIRING: Avengers x Reader

SUMMARY: A new avenger was expected to come soon but the avengers never guessed who it was gonna be.

WARNINGS: None?

A/N: It's my first time writing that's why it's rather short and maybe a little bad. I'M LEARNING so pls don't sue me :)

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Another boring yet busy day for the Avengers compound. All of them are in the m meeting room, listening to Steve as he just finished explaining what to do on one of the upcoming missions for the second time.

"So who understands how to get inside of the base now?" steve said. only Bucky, Nat and Clint raise their hands. "Honestly.." Steve mumbles under his breath as he turns back to the board ready to point everything out again.

"I don't see why we can't just knock them out, it would make things so much easier!" Thor exclaimed loudly.

Tony rubs the bridge of his nose, sighing. "To many guards. that plus we need to keep out of sight by any cameras that could give away our spot" Thor only hums at that.

"But what if we found another blind spot that only requires for some of us to enter? it would be easier instead of having to put all of us in the same spot where we could become vulnerable" Wanda thinks out lout as she casually listens to some music.

"She does have a point, maybe we should split up into two groups? team A goes in and team B stays outside and keep watch" Nat says to which Sam replies "Maybe team B could distract them."

At some point everyone was either just talking over eachother or not interested enough and talking to others, poor Steve gave up and sat down in his chair.

But then all of that stopped as a certain eyepatched killjoy entered the room, someone seemed to follow after him but they couldn't quite see them due to their smaller frame.

"Avengers" Fury greeted them with a firm nod. He continued "As you all know there was going to be a new avenger soon and that day is today." Nearly all of them sat now straight up in their chair.

Fury stepped aside "Let me introduce you to-"

"OH MY GOD!" Wanda basicly screamed, hitting peter's arm as the only reaction coming from him was a mouth wide open as he was gawking at you. You gave them a small wave.

It took a few of them some time to figure out who you were while others still had absolutely no clue why they were reaction so dramaticly.

"Care to share with the group who that is?" Bucky asked confused about all the fuzz going over one person.

"y/n l/n.." Peter spoke quietly as if he didn't believe it.

"what?" Bruce asked.

"IT'S Y/N FUCKING L/N!" Wanda yelled again. she stood up and made her way over to where you were slightly cowered away.

"You mean that singer that was on the news last month?!" Sam says excitedly also making his way over to you.

"As i was trying to say" Fury says annoyed "let me introduce you to y/n l/n, i think she will be of great use in the team with a skill set like hers"

"Hold up, what kind of skill set are we talking about?" Steve wonders, looking you up and down. "she is just a singer right?"

"i.. ehm" you hesitate for a moment, clearing your throat. "i can clone myself actually, i use it for my performances sometimes.." you look around the room. that's when you started to overthink everything. they were so quiet, why was no one saying anything? Was it wrong for me to come here? they must think i'm being ridiculous.

You closed your eyes tightly, not being able to stand the awkward silence surrounding you. You felt a sudden weight on your shoulder. slowly opening your eyes you realize Steve is standing in front of you with a gentle smile on his face.

"It would be great to have someone with such abilities on the team" he said reassuringly.

"How about a little demonstration huh?" Tony stood up too, crossing his arms and watching you with a slightly judgmental look in his eyes.

"Alright" without having to really do anything a sort of blob splits itself from your body onto the ground and quickly forming a perfect duplicate of yourself.

"That's amazing" Bruce puts on his glasses, apparently very interested by what you just did. "how?" he asks shortly after.

You shrug "i actually really don't know."

Peter had apparently come to his sense a while ago and had come to stand near you, still not saying much. it was kinda cute in a way, but you were already used to these kind of interactions with fans. Your also used to fans that are way to close like Wanda but honestly it's cool having hero's so close to you.

Tony was still looking a bit skeptical "Do you have limits?" He asked to which you shrug once again.

you thought for a moment "I never cloned more then 27" looking to your side the clone did the same thing. you decided that it was time to let it back inside, placing a hand on your replica it morphed back into you without a trace "I'm sure that i can do more then that though"

"I'm sure you can! maybe we can train with them" Thor said loudly with his booming voice. "Hey cap, maybe she can help us in that mission"

"Maybe it's better if we train her properly first before introducing her to any real action." Steve looked around the room. "Let's just take it easy and get to know eachother"

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