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zombiecare-rot · 11 hours ago

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Trapped (yautja x human)

Part 6

[Hope you’re excited for this one cause it’s LONG 🤭 I’d love to know what you think of their dynamic! Your comments are literally the best part of this journey to me 💚]

Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 💚

You pressed a few buttons on the padlock, and the door opened with a loud clunk. The noise echoes, but the lab was still too quiet… so quiet it made your stomach churn. Was it just you and the Yautja left here? Did everyone abandon the place because of this creature’s escape… or did something else take them out?

You couldn’t help but wonder, was this Yautja really the first one to get out? Could another alien have caused the damage? This one didn’t seem affected by human weapons. No bullet wounds, no injuries, aside from some healed slashes that came from the xenomorph. It didn’t add up.

What really happened here?

The silence grated on you. It twisted in your chest, simmering as anger and fear. You walked to the end of the corridor, still stained red… and now green. The Yautja had passed through here before reaching you. It followed you now, not because it needed direction, but because you were moving fast, taking the lead. Surprisingly, it let you.

But your panic grew with every empty hallway. No signs of life. No humans. Your breath caught in your throat tight, like it was being pulled from inside. Where is everyone? Your eyes scanned the vast, vacant facility, but saw nothing.

Are you alone?

Is this the end?

What’s going to happen to you?

Your breath turned shallow, fast… too fast. The air suddenly felt too thick to pull in.

Your vision warped with that awful fish-eye blur, like the corridor was stretching, bending around you. The lights above seemed too bright, flickering at the edges, pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

Your hand shot up to your chest, gripping your shirt like it might stop your ribs from caving in.

It felt like dying.

Are you dying?

Did something get inside you?

Are you infected?

What is happening???

Your knees wobbled, like the floor wasn’t steady anymore. Everything was spinning too fast, too loud and your mind couldn’t keep up.

Then came the sound.

A low, sharp growl pulled your attention.

You turned and saw it.

The Yautja was suddenly in front of you, backing you into a corner. You stumbled until your back hit the wall, your palms gluing on the cold surface behind you, breath hitching, eyes darting for an exit. But there was nowhere to go. It closed the space between you, chest nearly brushing your forehead.

It wasn’t attacking.

You pushed against its scaly chest with whatever strength you had left, but it didn’t move. Instead, it raised one hand slowly and pressed its palm over your mouth.

You shook your head in protest, trying to free yourself, but its grip was firm, strong but not painful. More like another warning. A reminder of who’s in control.

Desperate, you reached up and yanked one of its dreadlocks, instinctively… recklessly. Panic made you stupid, and you realized that a second too late.

The growl deepened. It stepped into you slightly, body stiffening, chest rumbling with something that sounded like a restrained snarl… or maybe even a gasp. You remembered then: their dreadlocks were sensitive. Some kind of organ. You had just touched something you shouldn’t have…

Its free hand shot up and clamped around your wrist, halting you. Its growl wasn’t loud, but it was enough to make your entire body scream danger. It didn’t attack, but it let you know exactly how close you were to pushing too far. It pushed your hand down firmly, like it was teaching you a rule.

Don’t touch the dreadlocks again.

You winced from the grip, your wrist throbbed, but part of you thought maybe you deserved that. Its hand remained over your mouth, eyes locked on yours.

But this wasn’t a power move, you realised. Not really.

Its mandibles clicked softly, and a low purr began to rise from deep in its chest.

With your mouth sealed, your only choice was to breathe through your nose. You met its gaze, trying to read it and you could swear, for a second, its eyes softened. So did its grip. The purr continued, steady, low, rhythmic. A reminder: Breathe.

You nodded faintly, understanding. This thing… it was different. Smarter than you expected. Attuned to you. Maybe it could hear your racing heart, feel your pulse, and every time it purred, it seemed to settle you, almost intentionally.

Your body eased.

The sound was strange, but oddly comforting. You felt yourself go lax. You hadn’t spoken a word, but you and the Yautja had reached some kind of understanding. By cornering you and forcing you to breathe, it had made it clear, it needed you to stay focused.

To help it find its armor.

Only when your heart slowed to normal did it let you go.

You tapped its hand lightly, signaling you were ready. It pulled away, but didn’t move from your space, still cornering you, making sure. Once your breathing evened, it stepped back.

And now, it led the way. No more waiting for you to take the lead. It moved first, fast and confident. You didn’t mind. Honestly, the idea of being in front again was terrifying. Still, it kept checking, behind, ahead, scanning constantly like it expected an ambush.

Then it hit you, it let you walk in front before to keep you in sight…

“I can go first,” you said, unsure if it would even understand.

But before it could react, new sounds emerged, footsteps. Human voices. Guns being readied.

You froze, heart leaping with relief.

Finally. Other people.

But then, your mind turned to the Yautja, already tensing, bracing to fight.

And you thought… this isn’t fair.

Wait… What are you thinking? Not fair?

The Yautja is a threat. It should be restrained.

But it was unarmed. Alone. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.

And in that blur of confusion and instinct, you reached for its wrist and pulled.

It didn’t budge. Didn’t look at you.

“Please,” you whispered, voice cracking.

You didn’t know if it could understand your words, but it seemed to understand your tone this whole time.

“Please, we have to run. They’ll kill you.”

It finally turned, those sharp eyes meeting yours. It must have heard your heartbeat again. Must have known you meant it.

“Put your armor on first,” you added weakly, not sure what side you were on anymore. You were human. But you had made an alliance. And to the Yautja, alliances were sacred. They didn’t back down. They didn’t run.

But this one did.

It ran with you.

You both sprinted away, ducking into the closest lab, the one you called the glass room. Rows of glass chambers lined the corridor, each holding creatures, aliens, specimens meant to be studied.

Or… they used to. Now, many of the chambers were shattered.

Something had been here before you. And it had let them out.

Your breath caught again. This wasn’t over. This was worse than you imagined.

The Yautja scanned the room, then looked at you.

“Its armor is not here,” you whispered to yourself. “We need to keep moving.”

You pointed to the far exit, to the right, where you hoped the armory was still intact.

It followed you, and you both exited cautiously. As you approached the armory door, you saw it, wide open.

Luck? Or a trap?

Before you could decide, the footsteps returned. Closer. Voices.

No time.

You jabbed your finger toward the hallway, barely catching your breath before taking off. The Yautja was already ahead, its stride powerful and effortless, covering in seconds what took you three times the effort.

You reached the armory just behind him, lungs burning, heart pounding. He turned only to make sure you were in before slamming a fist against the control panel. Sparks flew as the padlock gave in with a metallic crunch.

The door sealed behind you with a sharp hiss.

Maybe that would hold. Maybe it would buy you some time.

The Yautja looked around like a kid in a candy store, or rather, a warrior in a sacred temple. Weapons of all kinds, from all over the galaxy. Even you were impressed every time you’ve been here.

Then it saw it, its armor.

It walked toward it, reverent, touching it like it was something holy.

Only then it started to suit up.

You couldn’t do anything but stare intrigued. Its body was massive, so much so that you couldn’t even imagine the scale of its armor.

You tried to look away as the Yautja began putting on its armor. Until now, the only thing covering its body was some sort of loincloth the humans had put on it, and even that was long gone, tossed aside with a casual snatch of its hand.

You begged yourself to avert your gaze, but you couldn’t. As a biologist (and as a human) curiosity had its claws in you. You wanted to look. You wanted to know.

All those times you had studied it, there was never any protocol about reproductive methods. You knew plenty from what you’d studied, but that particular detail was never discussed. You had always wondered. You just never imagined you’d be here, now.

You fidgeted with your fingers, stealing glances at its back, the only side you could see. Your eyes darted toward the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but where you truly wanted to look.

You had seen this creature plenty of times, but this time, it wasn’t just observation. This time, something felt different.

This time it was awake and moving.

Your eyes traced the curve of its back, the way the muscles shifted under that thick, reptilian skin. It was mostly a deep, earthy green, almost blending with the dull tones of the room. Thin, brownish stripes that started at its back and stretched forward across the ribs and chest. They looked natural, yes, but oddly symmetrical.

And then, just as the Yautja slightly moved its head, you saw it.

At the base of its neck, almost hidden beneath the heavy dreadlocks, was a line, a singular, faint marking, different from the others. A muted, bluish tone, barely catching the light. Not random. It was too clean, too deliberate.

You had never noticed that before.

“What is this?” you caught yourself muttering.

You cleared your throat, an actual, anxious reflex.

The Yautja turned. Its body was nearly exposed, save for the abdominal armor it had just placed. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You weren’t sure how you would’ve reacted if you’d seen it completely bare.

This could’ve been a breakthrough.

Maybe it would’ve been terrifying. Maybe just… fascinating.

As hard as it was for you, you looked away now, finally letting it finish dressing.

Since you were in the armoury… maybe it was time to actually equip yourself.

Your hand instinctively went to your pocket—the small container with the salve was still there, thank god. You’d managed to snatch it back in the lab and hadn’t let go of it since.

You started looking around the room, eyes darting between racks and cases. To your surprise, there were all sorts of pouches, different shapes, sizes, even materials, lined up and stored like they were ready to be picked.

Your fingers brushed over a few before you found one that looked like it could work. You strapped it around your waist, worn like a belt, and started loading it with what little you had: the salve, a couple of instruments you always kept tucked in your lab coat, forceps, a data pen, a small scanner. It wasn’t much, but it felt like something.

A small, strange comfort. Like pretending you were prepared.

You turned to look at the Yautja now, its armor, though not heavy or extravagant, somehow made it look even more imposing. Plates covered its chest, arms, and legs, though many vital areas remained exposed. You couldn’t help but wonder, was it for protection, or simply for appearance?

It moved to look for its helmet.

“It’s up there,” you pointed, motioning toward a high shelf in the armory.

You knew it could leap and grab it. Yautja were incredibly strong in the legs, they could launch themselves into the air as if gravity barely applied.

But it didn’t move. Instead, it crossed its arms.

“What? You want me to get it?” you scoffed, half-joking.

Still, it remained still.

“Seriously? Why can’t you just spring up like a grasshopper?” you added, hoping to change its mind.

No reaction.

Was it being serious?

“I’m not climbing for you. What is this? Some kind of test? I’ve proven myself already, haven’t I? I’m a worthy ally!”

You stepped closer, your voice rising with each word, your hands gesturing wildly. When it still didn’t move, you sighed, clicking your tongue in frustration.

You weren’t built for climbing. But apparently, if you wanted its respect, or its help, you had to prove yourself again.

With reluctance, you climbed onto the counter, steadying yourself. You stretched toward the helmet but quickly realized you’d need to go even higher.

“Shit…” you muttered. You weren’t afraid of heights, but this wasn’t exactly your idea of a good time.

The Yautja clicked its mandibles.

“Yeah yeah, I know you’re watching,” you mumbled, annoyed.

You clambered up a shelf, your knees trembling. You took a deep breath, eyes locked on the helmet. You braced yourself and made the final reach.

It was heavier than you expected, your arm dipped with its weight. You gripped the shelf with one hand, clutching the helmet with the other, swinging slightly in mid-air.

A stream of curses spilled from your mouth. You hoped it could somehow understand them.

You thought about dropping the helmet, but you knew that would piss the Yautja off. So you swung your arm and tossed the helmet toward it, praying it’d catch it.

And it did. One-handed. Effortlessly.

“Show off” you said under your breath.

You glared at it as you climbed down, panting.

“Okay? Was that amusing to you?” you snapped.

It didn’t respond. Just stood there, holding the helmet under its arm, watching you pace angrily.

“Tell me I won’t have to do that crap again,” you muttered.

You vented, cursed your luck, questioned every decision that led you to ally with a damn alien. You even pointed a finger at it, until you saw its eyes darken.

Maybe that was a step too far.

“Sorry, okay?” you said, crossing your arms. “I just don’t understand why I had to prove myself again. I’ve been helping you this whole time.”

But then again, Yautja weren’t human. They didn’t know unless you showed them.

You took a deep breath to calm down, feeling your face red hot. It stepped closer now, slowly. Standing in front of you, its stance had changed. Maybe… it was seeing you differently now.

Or maybe that was just your imagination.

“Can you wear your helmet now? I… I want to know…” You hesitated.

What did you want to know?

It clicked its mandibles and let out a growl, one you hadn’t heard before.

“Keth’raal,” it said.

The first word you could clearly distinguish.

It placed a hand over its chest, where a human’s heart would be.

Your breath caught.

Was it introducing itself?

Goosebumps prickled your skin, your eyes slowly widening.

You looked between its hand and its eyes. Its gaze was… calm.

“Kee…thraal?” you tried to say, uncertain.

“Keth’raal,” it repeated, deep and rumbling. Its voice was alien, guttural and rhythmic, the mandibles moving in sync with the sound.

You stared in awe. “Keth’raal,” you repeated softly, like a sacred word.

You almost wanted to touch its hand, for trusting you with its name. But that felt too human, so you held back.

Still… you whispered his name again, in hopes you don’t forget it.

“Keth’raal.”

He purred. It made you wonder if you had pronounced it correctly.

You nodded, a quiet understanding forming between you again.

You opened your mouth to say your name—but a loud knock on the door made you jump.

“Is anybody there?” someone called from the other side.

You didn’t recognize the voice.

Another hard bang - louder, more urgent.

Behind you, the Yautja stirred, tensing. Ready to strike if the door burst open.

You had to move. Now.

You were the only one who knew the truth.

The Yautja shouldn’t be killed — not just because he hadn’t hurt you, but because…

he felt like something more.

A bridge between two worlds.

Before he could react, you ran in front of the door, placing yourself between them. If it opened, they’d see you first.

The door finally swung open.

A man, armed, uniformed, raised his gun. His eyes jumped from you to the creature behind you. Panic lit his face, you couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind.

“No! No, don’t shoot!” You threw your hands up, heart hammering.

The man froze for a breath –stunned by what he saw– then shouted over you. “Move! Move out of the way!”

“Please, he—” you caught yourself, “it’s not hostile!”

“Get out of the way!” he shouted again, voice cracking.

But you didn’t move. You stepped even closer to the Yautja, your arms out as if your body could protect his (it could never).

“Then you shoot me first,” you said, louder than before. “If you want him, you go through me.”

He had saved your life after all. You owed him this much.

Behind you, a low, guttural roar built.

You felt him move, the Yautja surging forward. His helmet clattered to the floor recklessly as he readied a strike.

The man panicked and fired.

You moved before you could think — just enough.

The bullet grazed your arm, burning through flesh. You gasped and dropped, hand clutching the wound.

Pain shot through you. Hot. Sharp. You swore you could taste it in your mouth.

Your vision wavered.

The man hesitated for a second too long.

And that was all it took.

The Yautja lunged, disarming him with brutal ease. One clean strike, a slice of his blade and the man hit the ground, unconscious, bleeding from his arm.

It should’ve ended there, but you saw it in the Yautja’s eyes.

He wanted more.

He wanted to end him.

But then he turned, saw you struggling to breathe through the pain and the anger shifted.

He dropped beside you, eyes focusing on the bleeding spot.

“It stings,” you hissed, blood dripping from your arm. “I need to patch it…”

Before you finished, he’d already torn the hem of your lab coat and wrapped it around your arm. Clumsy, but careful.

“Thank you,” you breathed, as you adjusted the cloth over the wound.

He stared at you —really stared at you— fury still fresh in his eyes. Then turned to the man’s body.

“C’jit,” he growled.

You didn’t know the word, but you could guess.

He wanted to rip out the man’s spine, maybe even use it as a weapon and somehow, you wouldn’t have blamed him.

“Keth’raal.”

You said his name louder now.

He snapped his head toward you like a switch had been flipped.

“We need to leave.”

Your words must have gotten through to him, because his movements slowed—too careful now. He took a long second before he decided to make another nose.

“Na’thek,” he growled softly, this time in a voice so quiet it almost didn’t match the beast he was.

You frowned slightly, curious. “What?”

He placed his palm on his chest. “Keth’raal.”

Then he touched your hand, letting it rest there. “Na’thek.” you distinguished the same word again.

You didn’t know the word, but something in your chest tightened at the sound of it.

A name? A title?

You weren’t sure but… maybe you wanted to find out.

“We need to go,” you whispered, pulling back slowly, still unsure of your exchange.

You stood, wobbling a bit, but steady. He rose with you.

He picked up his helmet from the floor and placed it back on. The moment it clicked into place, something shifted. The same being, but more dangerous now. Sharper.

Lethal.

He looked like a warrior again. No doubt about it.

You caught yourself staring.

You shook your head. No time for this.

Before the two of you could leave the armoury, the Yautja paused.

It turned toward you, then reached to one of the racks and picked up a small weapon, something compact, sleek, alien in design but clearly made for close combat. A dagger, maybe, though it had an odd curve to it, almost like a claw forged in metal.

It held it out to you.

Your heart skipped.

You stared at it, the weight of what that gesture meant settling fast and hard in your chest.

You lifted your hands slightly and gave a quick shake of your head, forcing a small, tight-lipped smile.

“I appreciate it,” you said, voice a little shaky, “but if I carry something like that, I’ll probably hurt myself before anyone else.”

Truth was, just looking at it made your stomach twist. The idea of holding something meant to hurt, meant for violence, it unsettled you in a way nothing else did. You didn’t even want to imagine a moment where you’d need to use it.

The Yautja tilted its head slightly, mandibles flexing once. But it didn’t insist.

Instead, it turned and tucked the blade back into one of the many pouches across its armor. One more piece of silent protection it would carry, for both of you.

You had what you came for, and you needed to disappear before more showed up.

He was ready. Armed and deadly.

But not to you.

You had no idea where you’d go.

You’d think about that later.

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zombiecare-rot · 11 hours ago

Text

Trapped (yautja x human)

Part 6

[Hope you’re excited for this one cause it’s LONG 🤭 I’d love to know what you think of their dynamic! Your comments are literally the best part of this journey to me 💚]

Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 💚

What really happened here?

Are you alone?

Is this the end?

What’s going to happen to you?

Your breath turned shallow, fast… too fast. The air suddenly felt too thick to pull in.

Your hand shot up to your chest, gripping your shirt like it might stop your ribs from caving in.

It felt like dying.

Are you dying?

Did something get inside you?

Are you infected?

What is happening???

Your knees wobbled, like the floor wasn’t steady anymore. Everything was spinning too fast, too loud and your mind couldn’t keep up.

Then came the sound.

A low, sharp growl pulled your attention.

You turned and saw it.

It wasn’t attacking.

You pushed against its scaly chest with whatever strength you had left, but it didn’t move. Instead, it raised one hand slowly and pressed its palm over your mouth.

You shook your head in protest, trying to free yourself, but its grip was firm, strong but not painful. More like another warning. A reminder of who’s in control.

Desperate, you reached up and yanked one of its dreadlocks, instinctively… recklessly. Panic made you stupid, and you realized that a second too late.

Don’t touch the dreadlocks again.

You winced from the grip, your wrist throbbed, but part of you thought maybe you deserved that. Its hand remained over your mouth, eyes locked on yours.

But this wasn’t a power move, you realised. Not really.

Its mandibles clicked softly, and a low purr began to rise from deep in its chest.

Your body eased.

To help it find its armor.

Only when your heart slowed to normal did it let you go.

You tapped its hand lightly, signaling you were ready. It pulled away, but didn’t move from your space, still cornering you, making sure. Once your breathing evened, it stepped back.

Then it hit you, it let you walk in front before to keep you in sight…

“I can go first,” you said, unsure if it would even understand.

But before it could react, new sounds emerged, footsteps. Human voices. Guns being readied.

You froze, heart leaping with relief.

Finally. Other people.

But then, your mind turned to the Yautja, already tensing, bracing to fight.

And you thought… this isn’t fair.

Wait… What are you thinking? Not fair?

The Yautja is a threat. It should be restrained.

But it was unarmed. Alone. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.

And in that blur of confusion and instinct, you reached for its wrist and pulled.

It didn’t budge. Didn’t look at you.

“Please,” you whispered, voice cracking.

You didn’t know if it could understand your words, but it seemed to understand your tone this whole time.

“Please, we have to run. They’ll kill you.”

It finally turned, those sharp eyes meeting yours. It must have heard your heartbeat again. Must have known you meant it.

But this one did.

It ran with you.

You both sprinted away, ducking into the closest lab, the one you called the glass room. Rows of glass chambers lined the corridor, each holding creatures, aliens, specimens meant to be studied.

Or… they used to. Now, many of the chambers were shattered.

Something had been here before you. And it had let them out.

Your breath caught again. This wasn’t over. This was worse than you imagined.

The Yautja scanned the room, then looked at you.

“Its armor is not here,” you whispered to yourself. “We need to keep moving.”

You pointed to the far exit, to the right, where you hoped the armory was still intact.

It followed you, and you both exited cautiously. As you approached the armory door, you saw it, wide open.

Luck? Or a trap?

Before you could decide, the footsteps returned. Closer. Voices.

No time.

The door sealed behind you with a sharp hiss.

Maybe that would hold. Maybe it would buy you some time.

The Yautja looked around like a kid in a candy store, or rather, a warrior in a sacred temple. Weapons of all kinds, from all over the galaxy. Even you were impressed every time you’ve been here.

Then it saw it, its armor.

It walked toward it, reverent, touching it like it was something holy.

Only then it started to suit up.

You couldn’t do anything but stare intrigued. Its body was massive, so much so that you couldn’t even imagine the scale of its armor.

You begged yourself to avert your gaze, but you couldn’t. As a biologist (and as a human) curiosity had its claws in you. You wanted to look. You wanted to know.

You fidgeted with your fingers, stealing glances at its back, the only side you could see. Your eyes darted toward the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but where you truly wanted to look.

You had seen this creature plenty of times, but this time, it wasn’t just observation. This time, something felt different.

This time it was awake and moving.

And then, just as the Yautja slightly moved its head, you saw it.

You had never noticed that before.

“What is this?” you caught yourself muttering.

You cleared your throat, an actual, anxious reflex.

This could’ve been a breakthrough.

Maybe it would’ve been terrifying. Maybe just… fascinating.

As hard as it was for you, you looked away now, finally letting it finish dressing.

Since you were in the armoury… maybe it was time to actually equip yourself.

Your hand instinctively went to your pocket—the small container with the salve was still there, thank god. You’d managed to snatch it back in the lab and hadn’t let go of it since.

A small, strange comfort. Like pretending you were prepared.

It moved to look for its helmet.

“It’s up there,” you pointed, motioning toward a high shelf in the armory.

You knew it could leap and grab it. Yautja were incredibly strong in the legs, they could launch themselves into the air as if gravity barely applied.

But it didn’t move. Instead, it crossed its arms.

“What? You want me to get it?” you scoffed, half-joking.

Still, it remained still.

“Seriously? Why can’t you just spring up like a grasshopper?” you added, hoping to change its mind.

No reaction.

Was it being serious?

“I’m not climbing for you. What is this? Some kind of test? I’ve proven myself already, haven’t I? I’m a worthy ally!”

You stepped closer, your voice rising with each word, your hands gesturing wildly. When it still didn’t move, you sighed, clicking your tongue in frustration.

You weren’t built for climbing. But apparently, if you wanted its respect, or its help, you had to prove yourself again.

With reluctance, you climbed onto the counter, steadying yourself. You stretched toward the helmet but quickly realized you’d need to go even higher.

“Shit…” you muttered. You weren’t afraid of heights, but this wasn’t exactly your idea of a good time.

The Yautja clicked its mandibles.

“Yeah yeah, I know you’re watching,” you mumbled, annoyed.

You clambered up a shelf, your knees trembling. You took a deep breath, eyes locked on the helmet. You braced yourself and made the final reach.

It was heavier than you expected, your arm dipped with its weight. You gripped the shelf with one hand, clutching the helmet with the other, swinging slightly in mid-air.

A stream of curses spilled from your mouth. You hoped it could somehow understand them.

You thought about dropping the helmet, but you knew that would piss the Yautja off. So you swung your arm and tossed the helmet toward it, praying it’d catch it.

And it did. One-handed. Effortlessly.

“Show off” you said under your breath.

You glared at it as you climbed down, panting.

“Okay? Was that amusing to you?” you snapped.

It didn’t respond. Just stood there, holding the helmet under its arm, watching you pace angrily.

“Tell me I won’t have to do that crap again,” you muttered.

You vented, cursed your luck, questioned every decision that led you to ally with a damn alien. You even pointed a finger at it, until you saw its eyes darken.

Maybe that was a step too far.

“Sorry, okay?” you said, crossing your arms. “I just don’t understand why I had to prove myself again. I’ve been helping you this whole time.”

But then again, Yautja weren’t human. They didn’t know unless you showed them.

You took a deep breath to calm down, feeling your face red hot. It stepped closer now, slowly. Standing in front of you, its stance had changed. Maybe… it was seeing you differently now.

Or maybe that was just your imagination.

“Can you wear your helmet now? I… I want to know…” You hesitated.

What did you want to know?

It clicked its mandibles and let out a growl, one you hadn’t heard before.

“Keth’raal,” it said.

The first word you could clearly distinguish.

It placed a hand over its chest, where a human’s heart would be.

Your breath caught.

Was it introducing itself?

Goosebumps prickled your skin, your eyes slowly widening.

You looked between its hand and its eyes. Its gaze was… calm.

“Kee…thraal?” you tried to say, uncertain.

“Keth’raal,” it repeated, deep and rumbling. Its voice was alien, guttural and rhythmic, the mandibles moving in sync with the sound.

You stared in awe. “Keth’raal,” you repeated softly, like a sacred word.

You almost wanted to touch its hand, for trusting you with its name. But that felt too human, so you held back.

Still… you whispered his name again, in hopes you don’t forget it.

“Keth’raal.”

He purred. It made you wonder if you had pronounced it correctly.

You nodded, a quiet understanding forming between you again.

You opened your mouth to say your name—but a loud knock on the door made you jump.

“Is anybody there?” someone called from the other side.

You didn’t recognize the voice.

Another hard bang - louder, more urgent.

Behind you, the Yautja stirred, tensing. Ready to strike if the door burst open.

You had to move. Now.

You were the only one who knew the truth.

The Yautja shouldn’t be killed — not just because he hadn’t hurt you, but because…

he felt like something more.

A bridge between two worlds.

Before he could react, you ran in front of the door, placing yourself between them. If it opened, they’d see you first.

The door finally swung open.

A man, armed, uniformed, raised his gun. His eyes jumped from you to the creature behind you. Panic lit his face, you couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind.

“No! No, don’t shoot!” You threw your hands up, heart hammering.

The man froze for a breath –stunned by what he saw– then shouted over you. “Move! Move out of the way!”

“Please, he—” you caught yourself, “it’s not hostile!”

“Get out of the way!” he shouted again, voice cracking.

But you didn’t move. You stepped even closer to the Yautja, your arms out as if your body could protect his (it could never).

“Then you shoot me first,” you said, louder than before. “If you want him, you go through me.”

He had saved your life after all. You owed him this much.

Behind you, a low, guttural roar built.

You felt him move, the Yautja surging forward. His helmet clattered to the floor recklessly as he readied a strike.

The man panicked and fired.

You moved before you could think — just enough.

The bullet grazed your arm, burning through flesh. You gasped and dropped, hand clutching the wound.

Pain shot through you. Hot. Sharp. You swore you could taste it in your mouth.

Your vision wavered.

The man hesitated for a second too long.

And that was all it took.

The Yautja lunged, disarming him with brutal ease. One clean strike, a slice of his blade and the man hit the ground, unconscious, bleeding from his arm.

It should’ve ended there, but you saw it in the Yautja’s eyes.

He wanted more.

He wanted to end him.

But then he turned, saw you struggling to breathe through the pain and the anger shifted.

He dropped beside you, eyes focusing on the bleeding spot.

“It stings,” you hissed, blood dripping from your arm. “I need to patch it…”

Before you finished, he’d already torn the hem of your lab coat and wrapped it around your arm. Clumsy, but careful.

“Thank you,” you breathed, as you adjusted the cloth over the wound.

He stared at you —really stared at you— fury still fresh in his eyes. Then turned to the man’s body.

“C’jit,” he growled.

You didn’t know the word, but you could guess.

He wanted to rip out the man’s spine, maybe even use it as a weapon and somehow, you wouldn’t have blamed him.

“Keth’raal.”

You said his name louder now.

He snapped his head toward you like a switch had been flipped.

“We need to leave.”

Your words must have gotten through to him, because his movements slowed—too careful now. He took a long second before he decided to make another nose.

“Na’thek,” he growled softly, this time in a voice so quiet it almost didn’t match the beast he was.

You frowned slightly, curious. “What?”

He placed his palm on his chest. “Keth’raal.”

Then he touched your hand, letting it rest there. “Na’thek.” you distinguished the same word again.

You didn’t know the word, but something in your chest tightened at the sound of it.

A name? A title?

You weren’t sure but… maybe you wanted to find out.

“We need to go,” you whispered, pulling back slowly, still unsure of your exchange.

You stood, wobbling a bit, but steady. He rose with you.

He picked up his helmet from the floor and placed it back on. The moment it clicked into place, something shifted. The same being, but more dangerous now. Sharper.

Lethal.

He looked like a warrior again. No doubt about it.

You caught yourself staring.

You shook your head. No time for this.

Before the two of you could leave the armoury, the Yautja paused.

It held it out to you.

Your heart skipped.

You stared at it, the weight of what that gesture meant settling fast and hard in your chest.

You lifted your hands slightly and gave a quick shake of your head, forcing a small, tight-lipped smile.

“I appreciate it,” you said, voice a little shaky, “but if I carry something like that, I’ll probably hurt myself before anyone else.”

The Yautja tilted its head slightly, mandibles flexing once. But it didn’t insist.

Instead, it turned and tucked the blade back into one of the many pouches across its armor. One more piece of silent protection it would carry, for both of you.

You had what you came for, and you needed to disappear before more showed up.

He was ready. Armed and deadly.

But not to you.

You had no idea where you’d go.

You’d think about that later.

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zombiecare-rot · 12 hours ago

Text

Trapped (yautja x human)

Part 5

[And to think this started as a silly little prompt 🤭 can’t wait for your reactions on this one!!! Can you guys guess the characters intentions for each other? 💚]

Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 💚

You looked at the Yautja, unsure if it actually expected you to come closer… maybe even help it.

You gulped, still anxious, still wary of the closeness. Let’s not forget, this thing had every intention of hunting you before the Xenomorph showed up.

Clutching the container of salve you had grabbed from the cabinet, you took a step toward it, avoiding its piercing gaze.

Its eyes were already on you. You could feel them, watching. Scanning. Maybe trying to figure you out, what kind of creature you were and why weren’t you attacking like the rest of the humans. You had no doubt it was still deciding whether you were a threat or not. Humans were the ones who captured it, after all. You couldn’t imagine it had any fond opinions about your kind.

You sighed, maybe louder than you wanted.

The Yautja tilted its head slightly and let out a soft clicking sound, as if wondering why you had frozen up, standing there with the medicine in hand, like a lost kid.

You blinked at the noise. It pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. It was studying you again. The slight head tilt, the narrowed gaze… unmistakable.

You finally opened the small container. Inside was a blue, slimy substance. Strange, slick, almost glowing faintly. You hesitated, then slowly held out your hand, offering it for the Yautja to decide whether it wanted to take it and use it itself.

But it didn’t.

Instead, it looked you right in the eye and then, oddly, almost proudly, pushed its chest out, like it was presenting itself. Like it was… expecting you to help.

You blinked again. That wasn’t right. From everything you had read or heard about them, Yautja were loners. Fiercely independent. They didn’t want help. They didn’t need help. But this one…

It was just waiting for you.

Did it… somehow know you were the one who tried to treat its wounds when they first brought it into the lab? You hadn’t done a great job then. There were scars along its arms now, stitches that healed badly (you partly blamed yourself for that). Human medicine hadn’t worked, you hadn’t even thought to use this balm at the time.

But now… now it was letting you try again.

You dipped your fingers into the gel and instantly jumped back, gasping. It was freezing! So cold it burned. You dropped the container in surprise, your fingers stinging.

The Yautja growled. A low, amused kind of growl… almost like a scoff.

You frowned at it. “Was that a laugh?” you muttered, annoyed but a little thrown off.

You bent to grab the container from the floor and spotted a nearby lab spatula. That would have to do. You didn’t trust your fingers to survive another dip in that blue stuff.

You approached again, slowly, and for a second you considered asking if it was okay to apply the balm, but what was the point? It probably didn’t understand you anyway. So you dipped the spatula in the gel and brought it toward its bleeding arm.

The Yautja didn’t move.

You took that as permission and carefully spread the salve over the deep slice in its right arm.

The reaction was immediate. It let out a sharp roar, head thrown back, mandibles flaring. The sound made your chest rattle.

You flinched hard, stepping back, your heart racing.

Was that pain? Had you messed up?

Then you noticed. The green blood had stopped oozing. The wound was frosting over, the salve turning dusty and hard on the surface. It was… working.

There was another gash near its chest, and you figured you should deal with it fast, before the Yautja had second thoughts and ripped you apart.

You scooped more of the gel and applied it quickly.

Another roar, louder this time.

Its hand, gripping the edge of the operating table, crushed the metal like it was tinfoil… You shifted back, staring wide-eyed, caught somewhere between fear and awe. That grip alone could have turned your bones to powder…

But the grip slowly loosened. Its chest rose and fell. Its breathing slowed back to normal.

You wanted to ask if it’s okay, but it wouldn’t understand anyway, so you ignored the urge.

The Yautja shook its head, dreadlocks swaying with the motion, and then looked at you again. Directly. Expecting.

You held its gaze, confused. Was it angry now? Offended? Or just enduring the pain?

You took a hesitant step forward and the low growl that rumbled from its chest made your human instincts scream. Like a lion warning you to keep your distance.

“Okay,” you muttered under your breath. “Message received,” you lied.

Ignoring its warnings, you moved fast, hoping maybe the last scratch on its forehead wouldn’t sting as much if you applied the salve quickly.

Bad idea.

Its hand shot up and gripped your wrist, tight enough to hurt, but not enough to break. You made a pained sound. Its claws pricked your skin. It was letting you know, it could hurt you. It was a warning.

Your breath hitched.

“I just… I thought if I did it fast, it wouldn’t hurt as bad” you said, voice trembling. “I just wanted to help…”

The Yautja didn’t move for a moment. You could feel it calculating, its grip flexing and relaxing slightly over your wrist, as if testing how easy it would be to crush you.

But then, slowly, it let you go.

It took you a second to gather courage, before you decide to help again. Carefully now, you spread the salve across the scratch near its eye, this time without breaking eye contact. Neither of you flinched. Neither of you looked away.

You were too aware of it now.

It just breathed. Heavy, steady. Taking the pain silently.

Then its eyes shifted, not to the salve, not to the next wound, but to you.

Specifically… your head.

You noticed the way it looked at you, just a little sharper than before. Its head nodded slightly, and it let out a low growl.

You blinked. “What?” you mumbled.

It’s eyes dropped to the side of your head.

Instinctively, your fingers went to the spot.

You pulled your hand back, blinking at the smear of blood on your fingertips.

You hadn’t even realised, not until now. The pain had been buried beneath adrenaline and noise. But now, as you touched the torn skin again, you remembered. The Xenomorph. Its clawed grip, fisting a handful of your hair before the Yautja intervened. The skin must have torn when it pulled. You hadn’t had time to notice. Until the Yautja did.

You turned away quickly, grabbing a bottle of antiseptic from the nearby shelf and pouring some on a gauze.

A sharp burn bloomed beneath your skin as you pressed the soaked cloth against the wound. You sucked in a breath between your teeth, muttering curses under your breath.

The Yautja observed in silence.

Its eyes lingered on the wound, then the blood, then the way your body reacted to pain. You could feel it watching, dissecting the moment, trying to make sense of it… of you.

And then, it’s eyes darted to the small container of the blue alien medicine, and then back to the blood on your fingers.

Unlike its own, your blood hadn’t crystallized. The antiseptic hadn’t frozen to your skin. Your biology worked differently. Messier.

You glanced at the container and let out a dry breath, half a laugh.

“I wish I could use that stuff,” you said softly, nodding toward the blue gel.

The Yautja didn’t move, or made any noise. Still studying you like some strange creature it didn’t quite understand yet.

That made two of you.

God, if only you could communicate. This would be so much easier. But then again… maybe you didn’t want to know what it thought of you. What if it was just weighing when to peel your skull off?

Then it hit you.

“The helmet…” you muttered “it has a translator, doesn’t it?”

You stepped forward, almost too fast, a little more excited than you intended. “I know where your armor is. The helmet, it can translate, right?”

You saw no recognition in its eyes. Not yet.

You then decided to motion over your own head, trying to mimic the shape of its helmet. When the Yautja didn’t react, you used your hands to gesture around its head instead, hoping it’d get what you meant.

The Yautja tilted its head again, like it did whenever it was studying you.

Did it understand?

“If I help you find it,” you said slowly, “will you help me get out of here?” You didn’t know what else was crawling outside of this lab, you definitely needed some help to survive.

It stood up. Towering over you.

You held your breath by the sudden move. You noticed your head barely reached its chest.

You felt small, fragile, completely exposed in front of it.

You looked up and it suddenly roared, a sound that slammed into you like a wall, mandibles flaring and mouth wide open.

To your surprise, you didn’t back down. Didn’t flinch. Maybe you should have, but something told you this was a test. A show of strength. And maybe… just maybe… it respected the fact that you didn’t fall over yourself.

Its mandibles relaxed, and its gaze softened… or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

Then it turned to the dead Xenomorph in the corner of the lab.

It walked over and ripped off the end of its tail with both hands. A clean, brutal snap, like most of its movements.

The Yautja kneeled, nodding towards you, like a command. You followed, kneeling beside it without a question.

The Yautja pressed the tip of the tail to its own forehead and growled low, carving a mark into its skin.

You winced at the sight of its flesh burning. But the scar it left behind, you recognized it. A rite of passage. It had marked itself as blooded. As worthy. As a survivor.

You stood with it, still stunned. Had it… shown you that on purpose?

Maybe.

It glanced at you, then puffed its chest slightly. Almost proud looking.

It had let you witness the ritual. That had to mean something. Right?

Then it looked past you, toward the door. A silent command.

Time to move.

Time to get its armor.

Had you just made an alliance… with a predator?

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zombiecare-rot · 12 hours ago

Text

Trapped (yautja x human)

Part 4

[oop- more interaction with our Yautja 🤭 I love your comments and your support, they keep me writing more 💚]

(Tagging @celticsrightbuttcheek for their ongoing support 🥰)

Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts.

This is it… this is happening, you told yourself.

You could hear the guttural sounds of the two aliens battling nearby. Quietly, you slipped out of the chamber that had served as your only protection and crept around, desperately searching for something—anything—that could be used as a weapon.

Your panicked hands rummaged through drawers, the noise loud enough to draw the xenomorph’s attention toward you.

That split second of distraction was just enough. The Yautja drove its talons deep into the xenomorph’s ribs, earning a piercing hiss before tossing the creature aside to avoid its acid blood.

You had studied xenomorphs long enough to know their blood could melt through nearly anything on contact.

You had, unfortunately, learned that the hard way.

You could run now. This was your chance, both creatures were locked on each other. You grabbed an intravenous stand and with your hands trembling you began slowly backing out of the lab, keeping your eyes locked on the xenomorph.

Somehow, you felt the Yautja wouldn’t hunt you. You weren’t a worthy challenge in comparison.

The xenomorph, however, would kill anything without a second thought.

It hissed in your direction, and your stomach dropped. But then it looked to the left, where the Yautja had moved to flank it. Strangely, it felt like you and the Yautja were circling the xeno together, like predators converging on a common enemy. The Yautja seemed to notice your synchronized movement, perhaps thinking the same as you.

The enemy of my enemy…

The Yautja wasn’t quick enough this time. Already wounded and bleeding, it didn’t react fast enough when the xenomorph made its choice.

You.

The weaker one.

You froze in fear but stood your ground as the creature lunged. The medical probe you clutched became your only defense. You collapsed under its weight, struggling, your head thrashing side to side as its inner jaw shot out, aiming for your skull.

You held it off, just long enough.

The xeno’s weight lifted suddenly, and you gasped, the breath finally returning to your lungs. You barely registered what was happening, before your eyes locked on the savage scene before you.

The Yautja had pounced. It didn’t roar or cry out. It fought in silence, its primal, brutal attacks overwhelming the xeno. No armor, no advanced weaponry, just claws, fangs, and fury.

Everything you’d studied about their kind told you they were strategic, calculated warriors. But this? This was personal.

You remembered then—this was a younger Yautja. Not an elder. Not even a forehead scar to mark its first successful hunt. That explained the lack of discipline, the rage driving every blow. It wasn’t fighting for honor. It was fighting to end this, no matter the cost.

Please…

You whispered to yourself.

Please run.

This wasn’t your place anymore.

The xenomorph’s tail twitched, about to strike a fatal blow to the yautja’s back.

You saw it, just in time.

You ran forward and shoved the tail aside with your probe before it could pierce through the Yautja’s chest. The predator paused, its masked gaze snapping toward you. It growled, low, furious. It didn’t want your help. This was its fight. You were in the way.

But there was nothing honorable about dying in blind rage, you thought. You ignored its warning growls and pushed the tail aside again.

That second of distraction was all the xenomorph needed. With a violent shove, it knocked the Yautja off of it and launched itself at you.

You hit the floor hard. The impact stole the breath from your lungs, and for a moment, you couldn’t move. The xenomorph raised one deadly arm for the finishing blow—

But it was yanked off you before it could strike, though not without pain: its claws had grabbed a fistful of your hair, ripping it clean from your scalp. You screamed in agony.

The Yautja’s reaction to your scream was unlike anything you expected. A deafening roar erupted from its chest, a sound so raw and agonizing that it made your blood run cold. You clutched your ears, trying to block out the piercing noise.

The predator had lost all restraint.

It straddled the xenomorph now, attacking like a beast possessed. It grabbed the creature’s jaws, prying them open with brute strength. The xeno shrieked and hissed, its inner mouth striking out and biting the Yautja’s hand, but the predator didn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop.

With a final, sickening snap, it broke the xenomorph’s jaws apart, ripping one entirely off and tossing it across the lab. Then it backed away quickly, avoiding the toxic spray of its blood.

It roared loudly, as if savouring its victory.

You lay there, breath ragged, heart pounding, staring at the terrifying figure before you.

A true menace, in spirit and flesh. It was deadly and the only thing alive besides you in the room.

The Yautja moved slowly now, chest heaving. It looked at the xenomorph’s hand—still clutching strands of your hair. It knelt, touching them gently, its fingers strangely delicate as they brushed against the human hair. It took a second, trying to make sense of what it meant for you to lose strands of hair.

It meant something entirely different in Yautja culture, you figured, since their dreadlocks were more of an organ than hair.

The Yautja now turned to you and slowly stepped closer.

You instinctively backed away, just a little, unsure of its intentions.

Were you next?

It knelt before you, head tilted slightly, its eyes fixed on the bleeding spot on your scalp. You both stayed still for several long seconds.

When it finally moved, you flinched and shut your eyes.

You expected pain, maybe claws digging in…but instead, you felt the soft weight of its fingers pressing near the wound, careful, almost… curious.

You didn’t move, didn’t breathe too hard, just stared as it tilted its head, like it was trying to make sense of your bleeding. You could feel your heart hammering against your ribs, confused as hell, not knowing what to do. Run, fight, say something?

“It hurts,” you whispered, even though you knew it wouldn’t understand.

It stopped.

To your surprise, a soft purr started rumbling in its chest. You squinted up at it, trying to understand what that meant again. The sound rolled out of its chest in slow, steady waves, and for some reason you could feel it in yours.

You didn’t want it to. You were still scared. You should have been scared.

But that sound…

It was doing something to your nervous system, whether you liked it or not. Your shoulders dropped without you realising it. Your breathing slowed. It was like being wrapped in low-frequency sound that you couldn’t shake off. Some primal part of your brain responded to it like it meant safety. Calm.

You didn’t get it.

When you looked up again, it was still making that sound. Still not moving. Still just watching you quietly.

You noticed its arm then, coated in green blood. Your eyes widened in shock. You reached out instinctively, wanting to check the wound, but stopped halfway, afraid it might lash out.

But the Yautja didn’t move. In fact, it seemed to wait.

“Will you let me help now?” you asked, half-joking. If it had let you help earlier, maybe it wouldn’t be this bad.

The alien let out a low grunt, a sound that could’ve meant anything, but didn’t seem like a no.

You stood slowly, and it rose with you. When you moved, it mirrored you, as if still watching your every step.

You made your way to a specific cabinet. You remembered the tools the Yautja came with when they were captured to be studied—medical equipment and some kind of salve that you had studied before. Human medicine wouldn’t help it, but this… this might.

You reached up to the shelf and grabbed what you needed. The Yautja stood close behind, waiting. You turned to show it.

Its reaction was almost funny, looking between you and the supplies as if realizing, maybe for the first time, that you’d been capable of helping all along.

It grunted again, sounding… annoyed, maybe. Then it strode over to the operating table and sat down with exaggerated weight.

You hesitated.

It flared its mandibles at you, letting out a louder noise this time, clearly impatient.

“Okay, okay,” you muttered, suppressing a strange urge to laugh. You didn’t know why, but the way it behaved—almost human—was oddly comforting. And a little terrifying.

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zombiecare-rot · 12 hours ago

Text

Trapped (yautja x human)

Part 3

[This is turning into a full story 🥹 all thanks to your likes and support 💚]

Read Part 1 | Part 2 💚

You stood still, knowing it had seen you. There was no point in holding your breath or crouching anymore, it knew you were here. You slowly rose behind the glass chamber, squinting at the alien as it searched the lab for something.

Its dreadlocks shifted with every motion, brushing its shoulders as it rummaged through the lab, grabbing objects and tossing aside what it didn’t need. What was it looking for?

At one point, it walked dangerously close to the chamber. You instinctively held your breath, waiting for the inevitable.

This is it, you thought.

“It’s going to kill me”.

It probably wanted revenge, for all the blood samples you took, for the tests, the poking and prodding. But you never wanted to do any of it. It was just a job. Hell, you were as much a prisoner in this place as it was.

You had signed a contract you hadn’t even read all the way through, too desperate for money to care about the fine print. And now… this.

You slowly raised your hands again, hoping it would recognize the gesture like it did before. You were ready to beg if you had to.

It walked past the chamber, giving the glass a light tap with its fist.

You blinked, confused.

It didn’t stop—just kept searching. But each time it passed by, it knocked lightly against the glass again. Not hard. Not enough to break it.

What… what was that?

Was it playing with its food?

“What are you looking for?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

The Yautja spun around with a growl, mandibles flaring in what looked like distress, not just anger.

You froze. Prey. That’s what you were.

You were looking at a Predator, a creature that killed for sport, not survival. You could be its next trophy.

It stomped toward you and slammed its fist into the glass, this time with more force. Its eyes locked onto yours, those sharp, otherworldly eyes. You’d never seen them open before. Terrifying… yet captivating.

The green blood dripping from its shoulder drew your gaze away for just a second…

and that was enough to anger it again.

It let out a quieter growl this time.

For a fleeting moment… you imagined it was trying to communicate, maybe warn you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, it turned around and resumed its search.

“If I help you find it… will you let me leave?” you said, immediately regretting it.

What the hell were you thinking?

It doesn’t understand you… right?

Maybe if you helped—maybe if you treated the wound—

You tapped on the glass before your brain could catch up to your hands.

The Yautja turned. Its dreadlocks followed the motion, almost graceful in how they moved.

For the first time, it didn’t feel like an alien. It felt… humanoid. Too human actually.

“I can help” you said softly, careful not to sound like a threat.

It stomped toward you again. You raised your hands.

“I know how to treat your wound,” you blurted out, heart pounding in your chest.

It stopped just inches away from the chamber, staring at you—really staring at you—like it was trying to make sense of what you were.

“You recognize my voice,” you said quietly, more a statement than a question. You had a feeling it did. The hesitation earlier, when you came face to face with it before the xenomorph attacked… it hadn’t been random.

A deep, rhythmic purring started in its chest. It didn’t seem to mean harm. It sounded… natural, involuntary.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the same words you always said when it was unconscious and you had to take more samples.

Its mandibles twitched, but no growl came.

The purring got louder. Then came a few soft clicking sounds. It was studying you again—like a hunter sizing up prey, its eyes slowly taking you in.

You held its gaze, despite how terrifying those eyes were. You wanted to show you weren’t afraid.

Big mistake.

It growled sharply, taking your eye contact as a challenge.

You immediately dropped your gaze, chest rising with anxious breaths.

Had you just made it worse?

It moved its hand, clicking its talons against the padlock on the outside of the chamber.

Was it… unlocking it?

Was it setting you free to help it…

or to hunt you?

You didn’t have time to figure it out.

The chamber clicked open, just as a slithering xenomorph launched from the shadows.

You gasped as the Yautja ducked just in time, the xeno crashing into the chamber glass where you had been standing.

How is this thing not dead?!

The door was open now.

But the Yautja didn’t turn to you. It grabbed the xenomorph by the tail and swung it away from the chamber, even as more green blood poured from its arm.

It let out a growl, nothing like the sounds it made toward you. This was primal, furious… deadly.

The xenomorph twisted free, fast and agile. It climbed onto the Yautja’s back, sinking its inner jaw into the side of its neck. Green blood splattered everywhere.

The Yautja fell, chest hitting the floor.

You had to make a choice.

Run for your life or lock yourself in the chamber again, in hopes it withstands another blow.

You chose neither.

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zombiecare-rot · 12 hours ago

Text

Trapped (yautja x human)

Part 2

(I was originally going to keep this as just a little prompt, but your support meant the world to me. So here it is! Part 2 💚)

Read Part 1 | Part 3 💚

The battle unfolded in front of you, the xenomorph looking like it had the upper hand. The yautja had no armor, no weapons, but it was fighting back hard, using its talons to stab at the xeno and shove it away.

When the xenomorph finally had the yautja pinned to the floor, its inner jaw (something you’d studied countless times and always found horrifying) extended out of its mouth. That’s when you thought: this is your chance to run.

You bolted out of the lab, smacking your hand against the panel to shut the door behind you. You didn’t look back. You didn’t want to. You just searched desperately for someone, anyone, (preferably human) who could help you.

That’s when the worst realization hit you: everyone was gone. They must’ve evacuated the moment the yautja escaped.

At the end of the corridor, you saw blood. Red blood. There had been a fight. But it wasn’t the yautja’s, otherwise the floor would be painted in that neon green you’d come to recognize so well.

You ran, lungs burning, mind blank, trying to think of anything -anything- that could help you survive. But panic had a grip on your brain, and you couldn’t think fast enough.

The facility was still under lockdown, but then… the doors started opening. All of them. At once. You knew you had only minutes before something worse found you, something that had already taken out the guards at the far end of the base.

You forced yourself to take a breath and closed your eyes. One image came to mind: the most secure room in the entire facility. The place the yautja had been held. It wouldn’t go back there, no way.

You remembered exactly where the room was and sprinted toward it, hoping you could get inside and lock it before it was too late.

You turned left down another corridor… more red stains. More blood. You couldn’t understand how the yautja had escaped and managed to injure so many people on the way out.

No bodies, though. Maybe they’d gotten away, wounded, but alive.

The door to the room stood open, like every other door. You tried not to think too hard about why the alarms had stopped or why everything was unlocked.

Had the yautja figured out the system? Or had the situation been “contained”?

You didn’t care. You rushed inside and went straight for the glass chamber where the yautja had been kept unconscious.

You knew how strong that thing was, nothing could break it. Not even another alien.

The chamber door was open. You slipped inside and sealed it behind you.

It was small, you couldn’t fully sit down if you tried. It had been designed to hold the yautja upright, strapped at the back.

The only problem now was that you were completely visible. If anything walked in, you were a glowing target in a glass box. No cover, nowhere to hide.

Still, the door was locked. You could feel the humid air around you, engineered to mimic the yautja’s natural environment.

You waited. And waited.

Then… movement. A shadow crossed the lab’s entrance. You froze.

You knew how silent these creatures were, perfect hunters. No footsteps. No sound. You’d always found their stealth fascinating. Studying the yautja had taught you that much.

Over the last few months, you’d gotten familiar with this specific specimen. You were certain it was male. But you still referred to it as “the yautja”. The last thing you wanted was to start feeling attached.

The growing shadow at the doorway snapped you out of your thoughts. You crouched down again, trying to make yourself small. Hoping (somehow) it wouldn’t see you.

But how could it not? You were in a damn glass chamber!

The yautja stepped into the room. Its movements were slow, calculated. Silent as always.

Then you saw it, green blood dripping from its left shoulder. The xenomorph must’ve gotten in a bite after all.

For a second, you felt a strange kind of relief. You weren’t dealing with a xenomorph anymore, you were facing something that at least recognized you.

The yautja turned its head. Looked at you. Then looked away…

Just… ignored you. Like you weren’t a threat. Or worth bothering with.

And honestly, that was fine by you. Even if it wanted to get to you, it couldn’t break through the glass.

Probably.

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