heyy, you’re friends with that chef dude, right?
tbh I’m just curious about blueberry academy and used that as a way to not feel awkward asking lol. What’s it like there?
@arven-sada-turo
Yeah, Crispin's my pal. They're great.
And feel free to ask whatever about BB! It's pretty cool here. You're Paldean, right? We've had a few exchange students from Naran-uva, and it seems like a nice school.
21 notes
·
View notes
I’ve been thinking a lot about the Yautja who don’t hunt and keep society running. I ended up writing this short female reader x male Yautja. I hope you enjoy it.
__________________
Mating a Farmer Yautja 🪴🌾
Being the only human aboard a Yautja clan-ship was stressful. You had been taken for amusement from the small colony you lived in when you were the sole survivor of a Xenomorph infestation. There were many giant aliens all around you, watching with their predatory gazes, never giving you a minute of solace. It wasn’t until one day that you accidentally walked into a room full of plants that you found your happy place.
The ship had its very own farm in a large space in the center. It was wide and rectangular with every spare inch covered with vertical columns where alien plants grew in. Long basins lined the walls, teeming with many colorful flowering plants that had varying smells that were new to your senses.
Some of the flora were exotic, spicy, sweet, and even ones that smelled bitter. The ones with blue flowers smelled like a spicy mint while the yellow tulip-like ones smelled sweet. As a farmer and botanist yourself, that having been your job on the colony, were excited to learn as much as you could about this alien farm. There was even actual dirt in various parts of the floor where short metal strips kept it in.
The dirt was earthy and damp beneath your fingers. It was dark in color but smelled like home.
Back on the colony the farm you tended relaxed your nerves and helped bring an inner peace that nothing else could. So, of course, you visited this room often to escape the stares of the aliens. Here there were only the plants and a plant couldn’t openly stare at you like you were a freak.
It was one fateful day that your peace was shattered when one of the Yautja walked in carrying a metal container. You stayed hidden in a corner behind a pillar watching the alien pull various items from the box.
They were huge like all of the others, their dreadlock tendrils falling a little past their clavicles. Their hide was a rich muddy brown with lighter mottling of green. Like the other Yautja, this one wore a loincloth but this one’s a green that contrasted nicely with their coloring. Compared to the others, this one was appealing in a way.
You watched as they quickly got to work tending the many plants in the room, watering each one when completed with a hose they procured from the wall, the long black tube never-ending. At some point they came to the pillar that was your hiding space, prompting you to try to make your escape before they noticed you.
It was, however, in vain.
They blocked your route of escape and stood there with an arched brow, their head cocked to the side slightly. Eyes as yellow as a Buttercup peered down at you with curiosity.
“S-sorry. I just needed t-to get some peace. I’ll…umm…get out of your hair.” You mumbled, keeping your head down in submission to avoid their eyes. You steeled yourself for the coming anger but it never did. There wasn’t even a single growl.
“Plants peaceful. Ooman stay. Other Yautja thinks ooman annoying.” They struggled with the pronunciation, a large hand coming to pat your shoulder gently before they got back to work.
You smiled as you watched them pull weeds out of a bed of a big leafy green plant, their claws manipulating the soil.
They continually came back every other day. This was their job, they said. They were a farmer and must tend the plants to keep the clan fed. They taught you some basics when you one day asked to help, sharing that, you too, were a farmer back on your colony. You both bonded over your shared love for plants, teaching each other about techniques you liked to use.
Eventually it came to receiving small gifts from your farmer Yautja. Instead of skulls, like you had come to see was traditional, you found different sorts of flowers left on your cot.
You slept in a small room meant for a child, so anyone could access it, including your Yautja friend.
After so many gifts, you decided to give your own. It had taken a lot to get over the fact that they were the same species that had kidnapped you and that they were an alien interested in wanting something more with you. When it finally did click that you wanted something more, too, you left them a bountiful bouquet of Earth flowers you had grown in your room. You had luckily found the seeds somewhere in a storage bin and decided that this was how you would accept them as your mate.
It was late one evening when you were enjoying the quiet of the plants when your Yautja strolled in, your gift in hand. Their yellow eyes found you in your usual corner and dropped to their knees.
“Mate?” They asked, their head cocking to the side.
You smiled, a blush coloring your cheeks, “Mate.”
Something darkened in your now-mate’s eyes before they threw you over their shoulder and carried you to another secluded corner. There they claimed your body as theirs, your bodies joining at last, surrounded by the flowers and sprouting veggies.
824 notes
·
View notes