#a hunter's prey

[the-black-manor]

Little pet that's too shy to ask to have their intestines rearranged, so they sit between my legs and nuzzle at my cock instead, getting me worked up until I can't control myself anymore, pin them down, force myself inside, and breed them deep.

[shenzhiheng]

Snowfall + whatever the hell is going on between these two

[mishacakes]

sometimes different hyperfixations roil around in your head and you go “hmmm how can i combine these”. also sometimes ur like “damn this visual is cool” and have to exorcise it like a demon

[daily-trey]

Where did he get...you know what, never mind.

K*-fi

[hemlock-dreams]

WIP.

Hunting Spider vs Hunter just hits different you know?

Spiderman and Kraven the Huntress have a weird thing going.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Prey 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: while out on a hunt, you become the hunted.

Characters: Kraven the Hunter (viking AU)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

Voices stir in the air with the taste of salt. The coast isn’t far. It hardly matters where you are. You know it’s far from your mother’s hovel. What’s more, you are trapped. Bound and draped over this man’s shoulder like a slain deer. 

You writhe, trying to kick free of his grasp. He keeps his arm firmly hooked around your legs. In response to your struggle, he strikes your haunch. You grumble and exhale against his hide jacket. From his other shoulder, a bunch of rabbit dangle; the ones he stole from your traps. 

He is silent still. He grunts but it is not angry. It is dulcet, as if he is amused. 

You wiggle again, trying to see past him as the murmur grows louder. There are others near. The mulch of dirt beneath boots and the stakes set between lengths of rope suggest a camp. A figure approach but you are blinded by the back of your captor. 

“We discovered scavengers near the forest. They have been dispatched.” The man informs the one who carries you. A similar grumble meets the news. “They are rampant in these parts.” 

Yet another dull rumble. He proceeds past the other with undaunted steps. By your measure, he is deferred to, if not a leader, at least a feared warrior. 

You turn your head this way and that. Pits burn beneath boiling pots or simply amid the cluster of bodies whetting blade or carving bone. A whole horde of warriors like the one who ensnared you. They glance back at you and several give pause as they linger. 

There are women too but they pay little mind. They are dressed as the men are, sat beside shield and blade. You bend your knees in an attempt to ram them into the man’s ribs. You know it would do little to truly free you but as fate closes in, so too does desperation. 

On and on. Men look over and dip their heads or avert their gaze. Their reactions all but assure you of the sort of beast that carries you. 

He bends and enters a tent behind a pit. In an instant, you are swung up and back. You land on the ground so hard the air rushes from your chest. You wheeze as the man snickers. You cough and roll onto your side. Your fingers tingle from the tight binding around your wrist and your legs chafe in your leggings. 

He moves around you to sit on his pack. You watch him unsling the rabbits and unsheath a short blade from his belt. He diligently begins to skin his stolen game. For a moment, you wonder if you should be next. 

Silently, he carries on in his task until he is done. The prepared hare are laid in a wide wooden bowl. He stands and wipes the knife on his jacket. He comes close and squats as he presses the tip to his calloused finger. 

You stare at the knife then look at him. You lift your head and stare him down. He chuckles and slips the knife back into its sheath. 

He reaches for you and you scowl. He touches your cheek, his roughened fingertips brushing down to your chin. He cups his hand under your jaw and squeezes firmly. He makes you sit up as he examines you. He turns your head this way, then the other. 

He lets go and flips his hand. He brings his other up to pull apart the collar of your tunic. He clucks in his throat and yanks until the laces snap. You tense and try to shake him off as he stretches the fabric to look past it. He moves one hand to fondle you. He grunts as you do the same and stomp your feet towards him. 

He makes a noise between his teeth and taps your cheek then points in your face. You still. He feels along your chest and your torso. He kneads your stomach and frames your waist. You growl and gnash your teeth. He shoves his hand between your legs and hums. You twitch. 

“Healthy,” he appraises. The first word he speaks. His voice is silty like the shores. His blue grey eyes meet your glare and he smirks. “Could eat.” 

You’re not sure what he means. If you could do with a good meal or he could. He flutters his fingers before drawing away. He goes back to the bowl of rabbits and lifts it. He leaves, knowing you can’t do the same. 

You gulp. There’s no mistake to be made. It’s certain why you are here. You are game too but your end is not so swift as the hare. 

The warm of his hand clings between your legs. It makes you shudder. You look down at the slack tunic. Your heart pounds against your ribs. He felt that too. 

You curl your fingers but not all the way. The straps are too tight. Your legs ache from the friction between them and your spine throbs rigidly. You shift up onto your knees and wobble. You try to shuffle forward on knee and toe. You fall over with a thump and a groan. 

The man laughs from outside. You know is at your expense, that he can hear you through the hide walls. It is all futile, he knows it as well as you. But it isn’t funny to you. It is terrifying. 

You lay on the floor, beside the disposed pile of fur. You smell the blood. You close your eyes and shudder. You are not used to being the one caught in a trap. 

[makenna-made-this]

BAWKmission of @awkward-parabuteo 's beautiful boy, Aramis~

I'm still offering these fun little bird doodles for anyone who wants to see their bird BAWK-o-fied~ Proceeds go to helping me pay my bills and further spoiling of my already spoiled chickens<3

[hansuoddie]

have some yautja text memes ╰(*°▽°*)╯

[sculkshrieking]

date idea: i give you a 60 second head start before i persistence hunt you through the woods til you get so tired and scared you start crying

@degloved and i are chucking more small town boy strahm AU stuff at you all. this time featuring big city boy hoffman <3

[size-two-shrimp]

You know whats fucked up? V2 is the one you fight in 1-4 and 4-4, and who you should've fought in 7-4 because they're your rival right? You always fight them and they're the opposite of you. Except they're not. And instead of opening the door in the final layer of greed to see them put back together and ready to brawl again, the Earthmover is there. There's not a single mention of V2. Because V2 was never your opposite, nor were they ever your rival. You don't care about them. Its always been the Earthmover that you wanted to see. That you wanted to fight. Wanted to kill. Before you even knew of it's existence, you knew it was what you were looking for. The Earthmover was always more of your antithesis than V2 (something more akin to a doppelganger) could ever be. This is the only way their story could have ended.

[marmosetpaw]

[l3viat8an]

Nsfw ❤︎………..thinkin’ about how much Diavolo would love hunter / prey play- cw: afab reader, roleplay ‘dubcon’, you two are fuckin’ in the wood btw + I think that’s it! tho it’s 1am so this is just me typing thots-

It feels so natural for Diavolo, such a powerful demon enjoying the chase, tracking down and overpowering his helpless little human pet.

He loves being rougher, more aggressive during it.

Pinning you against a tree, tearing your clothes off biting ‘n letting his nails leave little scratches on your skin. All while whispering the filthiest things in your ear, asking if you wanted to get caught? and ofc you did-

He��ll fuck you hard, one of his big hands on your hip and the other around you neck. Keeping you pinned in place while he ruts into you.

Diavolo’s voice a low growl when he talks right by your ear, “You like this don’t you, little one? Tsk I know you do, you keep sucking me back in. Your body is begging for more.”

Feeling your body tremble against his, watching your expressions change, the way you attempt to fight back to keep ‘the hunt’ as real as possible, it all fascinates him.

He’ll play along too- saying he caught you, now, it’s only right he mark you as his….inside and out as he cums inside.

After he’s so gentle with you, mumbling sweet praise as he carries you back to the castle. Promises of a hot bath and tea waiting for you <3

[johnnyslittleanimalblog]

The only place where success comes before work is in the dictionary by Shelly Lynn Hachey O Via Flickr: Wild Great Gray Owl on the hunt for a meal - was not successful the first two attempts on this early morning - but got the prize on the third attempt.

[xplore-the-unknwn]

📢 GOOD NEWS for the Predator Franchise! 📢

Ive recently discussed about the problems with developing the Predator Franchise in here . And now theres news that our big boys are finally gonna get a shot at more quality content! and the best part is Dan Trachtenberg (Director of Prey) is involved and at the center of more future projects!!! We, the fans just have to trust in his vision and SHOW SUPPORT!!!

To the directors, producers, executives etc. funding these projects- Pleaaasee give us more opportunities to love the Yautja Universe. Show us MORE LORE, EXPAND it!! Make us root for our Yautja boys! To more hope for this franchise! And may Dan Trachtenberg have the best meals in his entire life! 😌

[yourdailyqueer]

Hunter Reynolds (Patina du Prey) (deceased)

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

DOB: 30 July 1959 

RIP: 12 June 2022

Ethnicity: White - American

Occupation: Drag artist, performance artist, activist

Note: Had HIV

[indeedgoodman]