#Hunting cw

[fictionkinfessions]

i like it better in this world tbh, dont have to wake up for dawn patrol, greencough isnt a fear, dont gotta spend hours hunting, its nice and warm during winter too! ^.^

Cinderheart (warrior cats)

✉

[the-crystal-femmes]

ENTRY 06/13/24 - Ula 02

// pt: entry 06/13/24 - Ula 02 //

I don't quite know how to explain what I am. I don't know what my purpose was in my past life, nor do I know now.

Purpose is something that always evaded my grasp, much like I evaded the grasps of others. I don't intentionally try to seek purpose anymore, it's futile and I have never been able to come up with sufficient answers.

My body was like a shell. It wasn't something I was set to be. I could change my appearance at will, shift my bones and flesh and skin, grow fur as I pleased. I wasn't constricted to the simple bat, rodent or wolf form. I could be whatever I wanted.

I used that as a weapon, a hunting tactic. I'd let them invite me into their homes under the guise I needed a place to stay for the night.

When they slept, it was when I would purposefully morph into an abomination. A grotesque, mangled mess of bones, flesh, a face that was sure to strike fear into the hearts of my prey.

That's all they were to me, prey.

That's all they'd ever be.

I didn't care for their lives, I just needed to eat. If I didn't eat, I would grow hungrier, and my hunting tactics much worse.

I hated that part of me.

[ Dividers by @/cafekitsune ]

[hollowruin]

⊰ @inqisita , plotted ⊱  there is nothing that compares to the thrill of a hunt. as arrow lets loose, there is tension as one waits to either hit their mark or miss completely. it was rare that alysanne's arrows did the latter. when the arrow lodges itself into the doe's neck, a smile of victory rests on her expression. the young noble strides inside of winterfell with her game resting on the back of her horse. the doe was pretty large for what it was. it was going to make a hearty meal, she claimed as a servant came to collect her horse.

riding gloves are taken off and discarded, then brown mane is let loose. her curls draped along her back. lady alysanne attempts to see if her husband is nearby. mother had wished being married would help her to chase more womanly pursuits, but alysanne's 'odd' behavior is what caught the interest of lord stark anyway. if lord stark had tried to confine her to winterfell's walls and an embroidery hoop, it would have not ended well for him. cregan is not seen as he was probably looking over battle plans or other things that needed his immediate attention. it was no bother as being a lord called for certain duties.

alysanne instead spots their latest visitor, lady vela. she approaches the woman with a friendly gaze. there was a certain air around the lady that seemed mystical , as if she were a thing of fairytales. the mystery surrounding her life and her goals brought about intrigue. ❝ did you sleep well, my lady? has the cold sunk into your bones just yet? it takes southerners a while to adjust. the chill in the air can feel like a sharp sting. ❞ it was the south that aly found unbearable. the stickiness of sweat along skin and clothes, she would rather have to wear a fur-lined cloak. ❝ i know my husband offered his aid in your quest, but i would like to offer mine as well. ❞ it sounded as if there were an adventure to be had and she would not miss the opportunity. ❝ will your quest bring you beyond the wall? my father used to fill my head with nightmares about what lay beyond it. i think he was attempting to help me realize just how dangerous those lands could be, but i found it intriguing. ❞

[toorumlk]

from bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to political fugitives on the run

[queenoftheimps]

Another day, another White Lotus episode, another insane sex monologue.

[archiepelago]

You’re on a path—

Hey wait that’s not a princess.

[oceanichymns]

THE HUNT

[ art for a TMA Collab hosted by @mintybagels ]

[red5tars]

saw bluegiragi’s most recent post and blacked out. woke up to this. also based off @/machveil’s moose!konig

cw: hunting, breeding mention, dubcon

imagine going on a solo hunt in the austrian woods, having heard of the various wild life there. is what you’re doing illegal? ..yes but not to fret! you’re a skilled hunter, able to shoot down any creature.

till you run into moose!hybrid konig, the protector of the woods. breaks your gun in half and threatens to break you next if you don’t start running. immediately you do, heartbeat ramped up as adrenaline pushes you forward. unfortunately, you don’t get far as you trip, soon followed by a heavy weight on your leg.

könig lifts you with ease, is about ready to kill you till he smells something… saccharine. he lifts you further, pressing his nose into your mound and oh, the little hunter is in heat then?

quickly rips of your clothes, uncaring for how you scream and kick, pushing you onto the floor to eat you out. you’d attempt to sit up and push at him, but his huge antlers keep you grounded, unable to do much but lay there and take it. it isn’t long before he shoves his cock inside of you, not all the way considering you’re a little human and he’s.. himself. bullies when he can against your cervix, mumbling about how perfect you are for him, how he’s going to get you fat and stupid with his calfs. going to replace your hunting instincts with maternal ones by the time hes done with you.

@izzabela you won.

[robo-milky]

May you enjoy listening to Neige’ radio 🏹🎊

[bunnymadeofstardust]

I swear I just have to doodle Odile and my creeping feeling of artblock gets sent SKYYYYYY HIIIIIGH!!!

[xmenuniverse]

Laura Kinney in X-Men: Blood Hunt - Laura Kinney The Wolverine #1 (2024), art by Robert Gill.

[voidshrub]

"Follow me!"

[kittygowrite]

Midwest Girl

Warnings: F!reader, hunting mention, (just in case) slight gore/blood description, extreme weather mention (tornado sirens), just self indulgent fluff

An: trying my hand at a drabble 😌 (a very long drabble… more like a poorly formatted fic) saw this post by @succubusvalentine and just needed to write Simon with a Midwest girl lol. Lil disclaimer, this is based on my own experience in the Midwest and where I live in it (omg it's huge there's so much variety in the culture)

Word count: almost 800

Simon with a Midwest girl that absolutely fascinates him.

You were always so sweet and polite, a small smile would pull at his lips every time you said “ope.”

If you were surprised, bumping into something, or remembering something, every single one would be accompanied by a little “ope!”

Or when you would walk past him, a little “let me just squeeze right past ya...” he would be fighting off a grin.

The politeness wasn't a personal thing though.

The first time a stranger started talking to him at the grocery store, he thought they were insane. When his sweet girl started chatting with the older lady who had commented on the tomatoes Simon was holding, he thought you had fallen off the deep end as well. But that's just how you were. His sweet thing, sharing your sugar with the neighbors, helping with their gardens, bringing over dinner or other comforts whenever someone fell on hard times.

Your food reminded him of what home ought to feel like, all comforting and warm. Whether it be your mother's “famous” chili, a casserole brought to a potluck to celebrate some small town holiday, or a simple pasty warming his fingers in the heart of winter, Simon could never get enough.

While there were quite a few things he hesitated to eat, shoving a bite into his mouth usually shut him up and had him devouring the rest, despite the odd name or questionable ingredients.

The weather was its own situation.

The tornado sirens are blaring, he's grabbing things to hide in the basement and wait out the weather, following the safe and logical protocol. Searching high and low for his sweet girl, just to find you lounging on the porch, a bottle of Faygo in hand, watching the sky swirl and shift with a content smile. Brushing him off when he frantically tries to usher you inside, nodding to your neighbors who are all doing the same, outside despite the sirens screaming for you to hide inside where it’s safe. (Of course, if it actually got bad, you would go inside, but it would take a while to get to that point.)

The temperature changes were intense, 20’s and freezing his fingers off one day, 60’s and driving with the windows down the next, it was enough to give him whiplash.

Not to mention the god-awful winters. He would think you were insane for wearing just a T-shirt and jeans when it's nearly in the 30s. You would just smile and wave him off, laughing when the usually stoic man would be reduced to grumbles about the cold bite.

The chill in Manchester was enough for him to be tugging on a winter coat so the colder temperatures were less than comfortable. He would be bundled up in long johns, flannel, a down coat, mittens, and a scarf wrapped over a thick woolly balaclava you had gifted him for the holidays and he would still be shivering like a wet kitten.

It’s hitting the negatives and you’re unbothered.

“It’s not so bad without the wind.” You happily tell him, as if his nose wasn’t numb and his fingers stiff from the glacial weather. He had to buy a proper pair of winter shoes, his assumption that his combat boots would be fine stomping through the snow. After a too-close dance with frostbite, he caved and bought a real pair of snow boots.

The way you interacted with wildlife never failed to amaze him either. Shooing off a raccoon or coyote that was pawing through your trash. Feeding the birds and squirrels, not batting an eye as a deer walks past.

Growing up in Manchester, he had seen his share of wildlife, but it was so different in the States. The deer were bigger, coyotes would bark and scream like banshees in the night, and don't even get him started when he saw a moose for the first time.

But Simon whose girl goes hunting or fishing? He’s whipped.

You’ve got antlers on your walls, maybe a hide or two kicking around. His eyes would nearly pop out of his head when he walked into the garage to be met with the sight of his sweet girl elbow-deep in fish guts, scaling and gutting the fish with practiced efficiency. Blood splattered on your arms and a smudge on your cheek as you smiled at him and handed him a plate of fish to bring inside.

He would laugh at first, the need for a freezer in the garage seemingly useless. But come hunting season, when it was filled with rabbit, venison, and wild turkey, he changed his mind quite quickly.

You had your quirks, but you were his. And he wouldn’t trade his sweet Midwest girl for anything.

An: I had a lot of fun writing this! Like I said, it’s based on my own experience with where I live so I’m sorry if this isn’t how you’ve experienced it! Feedback is always appreciated <3

Taglist: @pythonmoth @hattiefunny @daydreamerwoah @bi-sk8er @sweetheart4you @shinebright2000

[fictionkinfessions]

I remember praying to Starclan when I was around…8 ? 9 ? in this life.

I don’t really know if that was praying, I’ve never really prayed in my life, but I guess that was the closest I ever got to doing genuine religious acts.

My cat had passed away recently, and I…idk, I got a sudden urge to look up to the sky and ask Starclan to guide him to their hunting territory, where he would never have to experience pain, fear, hunger and cold ever again. It felt right to do that, so I didn’t question it. After all, I had named him after Firestar’s kittypet name, Rusty, and he was only 8 moons old, just the age of an apprentice, when he passed away.

Even if he was a kittypet, he reminded me of Firestar when he was still living with Twolegs, adventurous, maybe too much for his own good, as it ended up being the cause of his death.

I tried to raise that cat following the warrior code. It might sound stupid, but that felt like the right and natural thing to do, to me. I might have been a child but I had no doubt that I couldn’t raise him in any other way.

So asking Starclan to welcome him as their own, even if he was raised by Twolegs, was…the last thing I could do for him.

I still hope that Starclan listened to me, and that he’s happy, hunting by their side everyday.

• Jayfeather (Warriors Cats), #⚔️🪽🌲

placeholder text because tumblr wont let me post ask messages without something in the reply box

[an-albino-pinetree]

Here’s my oc Wren! From @sm-baby ‘s new ‘The Eyes Of Cats’ story!!

Yes, I’m aware this just looks like a more feral Tree in a jacket- (this is essentially just Tree, but in TEOC), but I wanted to give her a name, and an “apocalyptic” personality, to separate her a bit. <:]

“Cat breed”: Blue Somali

When people say “Oh, my cat is a real mouser” that’s the kind of “cat” she is. She has a very high “prey drive” (She came from/grew up in, a big hunting family, before the apocalypse)

She’s very skittish and defensive, personality wise. Untrusting and flighty.

Pros: Highly skilled in survival/street smarts/hunting.

Cons: Trust issues/doesn’t get attached readily. Will possibly screw you over, if it means she gets to remain safe.

[dr-awkkward]

Slay the Princess text posts, part 3

[part 1] [part 2] [part 4]