#i know nothing about predator and yautja culture

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 2

ftm yautja oc (Bhankui-ya) x male reader

Can Yautja be FTM? No idea, but this one can. Ive only watched one predator movie, so this is mainly just cooked up from my own imagination and attraction to Yautja, as well as the many fics I read. I used a generator for the name, so if it’s bad, blame the generator.

This is also more just “haha funny relationship between a yautja and his ooman” kinda vibes. very fun to write, i would love to write about Bhan again.

Mixed wording for the yautjas bits.

Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Dating a yautja was an… interesting experience. Bhankui-ya, or as you called him, Bhan, was no exception. But really, dating a scaley 8ft tall alien warrior who could rip your spine out of your body with his pinky really didn’t get any weirder. You were never gonna complain though, except for the times he would sit his entire weight in your lap, and you were left gasping for air. It wasn’t your fault that yautja weigh the same as three men of their size. You loved it though, and you had a feeling Bhan knew that.

How you came to date your partner, mate, as he called it, was another strange set of circumstances. You had a past of your own, and there wasn’t much left to live for. So, you had set out to take down the people who’d harmed you and your loved ones the most with you. Your body was littered with the scars they left on you, and your heart was covered in even more, aching for the siblings they’d taken from you. Be it from their abuse, or your siblings taking their own lives because of them.

It hadn’t truly registered at the time. You didn’t know what a bad blood was, or that Bhan was an enforcer. You just knew that scaley fucker, who was already missing an arm and hissing like a wet feral cat, was trying to take your kill goal from you. Bahn would later tell you, after laying in bed feeling like hed just drained the very life out of you, that you fought more feral than a kiande amedha fighting for its queen.

You still didn’t really know what that was, but you had seen skulls, trophies, Bhan kept of them. Apparently, they were a big deal, and seeing you acting like one got him wet. For some reason. But hey, you got hard seeing him cleaning his knives and spears, who were you to judge that he got heated up seeing you rip a bad bloods mandibles right out their face.

Anyways. In the end you came with him, since you’d “proven yourself” somehow. And having literally nothing and no one on earth, you just followed. You were no warrior or hunter, at least nothing compared to yautja. But you had a “look in your eye” in Bhans words, or rather clicks. The implant to understand him still itched at times. You just “needed to unleash it” whatever that meant.

Turns out the one place you can unleash this so-called power is in the bedroom. Because, where yautja may be the superiors in many ways, it seems in the way of the body humans were still more advanced. Bhan would tell you it was because “Oomans like you are controlled by bodily urges”, you just think he’s jealous you used to fuck a toy before you met him.

You honestly felt like you were on top of the world the first time you used a vibrator on his clits, because apparently his people had three. Seeing him rip holes in his seat and how he would arch, and roar made you feel euphoric, it had to be the same rush Bhan felt on a good kill. But instead, you got it from making him squirt so hard his legs were shaking.

You never got to live on that high for very long. Apparently Bahn liked to “peel you back down again” so you “didn’t get too confident”. Apparently, a confident hunter was a dead hunter, or something like that. It was pretty hard to think about his “lessons” when he was riding you though, his sheer bulk slamming down on your already aching human hips until you were making noises similar to the creatures he hunted when they were dying.

That didn’t stop you from stocking up on toys though. The next time you came to earth, you scrounged up money one way or the other, and immediately entered the best quality shop you could find. Bhankui-ya was off doing whatever he needed to do, and in the meantime you were trying to find out which wand would work on him.

The conversation with the store clerk was embarrassing, to you at least. They seemed quite entertained as you fumbled out that you were trying to find something that would work on your “taller than you can imagine, buff as hell and more dangerous than a tiger on steroids” partner. They were very helpful though, and even gave you some discounts and wished you luck on your way, as you stumbled out of the store with at least two bags on each arm.

It was only experience at this point that helped you remember where the ship was, since it was invisible and all that. But as you got inside you immediately clambered off to the bedroom, where you got to work. Bhankui-ya wouldn’t know what hit him when he got back, you would make sure of that.

Of course, you shouldn’t have been surprised when your mate came back beaten and bloody, but lugging the bad bloods head under his arm. You had gained a fascination with seeing the heads of his kills, alright? So, what if it made you morbid. And Bhan? He just seemed to almost preen as you oohd and aahd over his kill.

Patching him up was a couple’s activity, mainly just because you liked patching him up, and Bhan liked when you did it. He could have easily fixed himself up with the many tools he got as a yautja, but where was the fun in that, when he got to see his little blood thirsty ooman patch him up instead. Bhan did have to stop you from licking his blood up at times, lest he decided to ride you right then and there.

In the end you forgot all about the wide array of toys youd laid out in the bedroom, in the order you planned to use them on him. You sent Bhan on his way, deciding to be a good mate and drag his heavy as fuck armour and weapons off to where they needed to go for cleaning and polishing. It caused aches in your back, but Bhans purrs made it all worth it.

Walking into the bedroom Bhankui-ya got to see your little plan, and if the hunt and your pampering, as well as that flicker of bloodlust in your eyes hadn’t got him wet, then this did. How sweet of you, his little mate, to want to pamper him this way. Had you remembered it was your anniversary? (you hadn’t) how could he not use the gifts you set out.

Walking into the bedroom to see Bhan fucking himself with one of the toys, a vibrator against his clits made you almost pass out. Hed even worked one of the plugs into his other hole, his muscular thighs spread wide open as he purred in your direction, his noise like a siren call that had you stumbling over your own feet, almost making you eat floor.

Bahn had tried to laugh at your stumbling, but you were on his slit like a starved animal. It was only the fact that Bahn let you that you got the vibrator away from his nubs, mainly because he loved your mouth on him. It was just so much nicer to have a human eat him out than a fellow yautja, he had taken lips for granted his entire life.

Having just gotten back from a hunt left him more pliable, and willing to go along with your whims. Which was how you got four of those wired vibrators strapped to his thighs, and up his cunt, set to the highest setting as you fucked into his ass. The wand youd bought was worth all the money as well, as you used it to swap from one bundle of nerves to the other, Bhankui-ya howling loud enough that your ears were ringing. You wouldn’t be shocked if they were bleeding, but did you care? No, no you did not.

The adrenaline from his hunt, your powerful scent of want and hunger, and just the fact that Bhankui-ya didn’t indulge in other mates before you, left him sensitive and so needy, something you gladly abused any chance you got.

The bed needed to be completely replaced afterwards, but that’s how it went every time you got him like this. Never in your dreams did you think you could have someone as powerful and dangerous as Bhan, limp and panting, his entire body shaking and spent. Seeing his mandibles quivering always made your heart lurch, it felt like a symbol that you had done it all right.

Times like this were never about you or getting you off. But you also knew Bhan wouldn’t accept it if you didn’t get to finish too, so you always did it wherever he wanted it most. There was little chance of you two having offspring, mainly because Bhan had an implant that made pregnancy impossible. Because, unsurprisingly, yautja had even better prevention care than humans could ever dream off. You swore you heard him chirping about pups every now and then though, when you had him so wrung out that his eyes kept rolling back, even when you weren’t doing more than petting his torso.

Aftercare was also something Bhankui-ya could appreciate that came from humans. Yautja did care for each other after mating, but it was mainly just to patch each other up if it got bloody, or feeding the other food and water. Being rubbed all over and massaged was enjoyable, so you wouldn’t catch Bhankui-ya complaining.

You both knew you were gonna be the one shaking and limping in a few days though. He couldn’t let you get too confident, now, could he? Maybe hed even show you how some of the weapons he owned could be used in more… fun and creative ways.

[yandere-kokeshi]

I remember you posted that you write alien vs predator now, so if possible could you write something about a yandere yautja x chubby!f!reader??? Like maybe she accidentally witnessed some them hunting on earth but as they were going to kill her another yautja grabbed her and ran or fought the others, he’s usually content just watching but she was threatened and he couldn’t stay away…. Or even just headcanons about them and what they’d be like as a partner

Sorry🫣

— Yandere Yautja with a female! chubby mate

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about chubby reader, and yautja stuff.

A/N: I changed it up a bit and decided to write headcanons about having a darling who is chubby. I hope that’s alright :)

In his planet, or rather culture, female Yautja have a naturally larger and masculine build: muscular thighs, fit hands that’ll be thrown at anybody, and a good athletic build. But, since the day he saw you and touched you? He died at the second, and swore to protect you to all the Gods. And ensuring, you’d be his by the end of the night. 

To get it easy — he sees no issue with your size. Generally sees you as a ‘plushy’ and more huggable, there’s nothing wrong with that. 

But if he senses you being sad over your weight, he clicks in annoyance. How dare you insult yourself like that? Within seconds, he hikes you up on his shoulders by one hand, showing you that weight doesn’t mean a thing to him, so nor should you care. 

It’s no surprise that Yautja’s love heat, and your beloved mate sees you as a heat source. He has to be touching you at every given moment, muzzling his face deeper into your belly rolls as you two sleep in. 

Finds your stretch marks remarkable. Scars are a symbol of strength, and are praised highly in the culture and with your lovely Yautja, he views them as a form of scars. 

Handsy to a capitalized H, and doesn’t know a thing of personal space. Your skin is so warm and soft, his paws squishing and handling you is his favorite hobby. Adores the scent you have, and uses your thighs as pillows. 

Generally would love for you to go naked in the house. Nudity isn’t a source of shame in yautja culture, so he’d be confused if he sees you embarrassed. In all, he admires and wishes for the day to come; imagining himself pulling your clothes off, chirping and clicking in excitement as his hand covers your hips and addicting curves. 

Very protective, and whilst that’s guaranteed with his aggressive stance, it’s mustered up a bit because of how gorgeous you are. He’s convinced that if any other ‘ooman, or yautja, sees you – they might get attracted and try to steal you away. He’s ready to fight and tear off limbs if must. Possessive to its finest. 

Treats you with the finest things he can find and cook. He cooks you amazing food, ones that leave your mouth salivating, and wakes you up with breakfast in bed; admiring your sleep figure and messy hair from awakening. 

Loves to dress you up in clothes, especially if it’s in pelts that he hunted for you. Admires looking at you from behind, smiling like he’s made the day, and stares you down like a mad-man. You’re just so cute, ‘ooman.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2024 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[x-candy-guts-x]

Yautja x human ft worm on a string

I had some more thoughts :)

•It’s really interesting to me how humans are at their core a prey species. You can argue that forwards facing eyes are a trait of predators however it’s seen in basically all monkeys and apes and they are primarily vegetarians. They eat small prey like insects or small mammals but aren’t on the scale of say k-9’s, felines, and other obligatory carnivores. I believe it’s primarily a trait derived from our deeply social species. Our eyes are a huge part of our kinds communication wether we are looking at something or someone. We follow the direction of peoples eyes when talking. It’s been a great tool in our development.

•that being said I feel like predatory species like the yautja would find it fascinating to watch a human go from prey species to brutal predator in a matter of moments due to any given circumstances. Our instincts to danger are typically the five F’s. Fight, flight, freeze, fawn and faint. (For those of you who don’t know freeze is when you become unresponsive much like a deer in the headlight. Fawn is when you try to essentially suck up to the threat and get them to calm down and no longer be a threat. This is usually seen in abusive relationships where people will try to appease their abusor by avoiding conflict or doing whatever they can to get the abusor in a good mood again even at their own detriment. And faint is well.. faint lol.)

•Humans developed carrion stomachs due to our tendency to go after the largest strongest prey possible. We had so much meat we couldn’t eat it all and it would spoil. Our stomachs developed strong acids to kill bacteria in meat that has been sitting.

•humans are one of the only species on the planet to actively hunt the largest and strongest of any animal in a given herd/group. Which I think is something the yautja relate too.

•for humans this was out of necessity. The biggest animal provided the most food for our large social groups. We needed to provide the most food for our people. And our ability to kill from a distance and out do our prey in endurance allowed us to not have to worry about energy expenditure like big cats who hunt alone and need to conserve as much as possible thus hunting whatever is the easiest.

•we did this for so long that we developed predatory instincts. However at our core we still have prey instincts. Your yautja finds that cute. :)

•he is much larger, stronger and deadlier than you without armor and weapons. Sharp teeth and claws with a scaled hide and muscle structure that could knock over a bus is nothing to sneeze at. He absolutely adores the difference between the two of you. Your much smaller form with soft skin and tiny blunt teeth and nails is endearing. But this also makes him extra worried for you when you go hunting. He has to remember that humans are fine predators but only when they have someone else to rely on.

•humans are NOT meant to be alone. In virtually anything. Todays society will have you believe in toxic ideals like pulling yourself up by your boot straps and not needing to rely on anyone. But humans at their very core are meant to be in large deeply socially bonded groups. It takes a village to raise 1 human properly. And our society has forgotten that. Your yautja finds it deeply unsettling when he finds out that your culture is not as social as it seems from the outside looking in. With everyone living so close together and there being so many people in such small areas you’d think everyone would know everybody. But it couldn’t be further from the truth. Single parents and fear stricken neighbors run rampant in most of the cities. So when he sees you pack bonding with a roomba he takes it upon himself to be your best friend.

•that’s another thing. Humans are so social we pack bond with virtually anything. We crave intimacy so badly (not like that you pervs) that we will pack bond with ANYTHING. You name it. A dog? So common. A car? Strange to him but not uncommon for one to become at least a little attached to something important like that. A fuzzy noodle with googly eyes attached? It’s a worm on a string? Ok we’re getting you some help.

•your getting dragged to an oomanologist and he prescribes you a pet.

•your pet ate the worm on a string

•there were tears

•he’s secretly happy about it

•he actually tried to get rid of it several times. Garbage shoot? You walked in on him mid act. Burn it? The bastard wouldn’t even reach the fire because the string kept getting tangled to twigs and branches that hovered above it. A tall shelf? Well he found you sitting on top of the fridge like a gargoyle once so that was out of the question.

•your yautja regularly has to remember that he’s a lot bigger than you and you are so smol. His voice alone can startle you if your not expecting it! There goes the prey instincts again. Loud noises are not your friend that’s for sure.

•did you know that in alien vs predator they used tiger roar sound effects for the yautja roars? They actually do this in a lot of movies and it pisses me off especially when they attach it to things like mountain lions who literally can’t roar but that’s besides the point- anyway tiger roars are actually capable of STUNNING their prey. There’s something about the volume and frequency that actually temporarily stubs other creatures. If the yautja canonically roar similar to tigers and he accidentally stuns you OmG.

•so much purring

•he’s on his knees hugging you trying to make himself small.

•this dude cannot navigate your human home.

•he broke a dining room chair sitting in it

• he’s too big for the hallways without ducking and turning sideways partially sometimes.

•hand holding is so cute. Ur hands are just so tiny compared to his

•he does research on monkeys and sees how grooming is a very important social que and he connects this to humans. Unfortunately he didn’t think that humans were so prudish around nudity so when he just picked you up and threw you into a big tub he was NOT ready for those hands.

•predator instincts activate 🔫

•he almost drowned

•mildly scared of you

•your so small how are you that strong

•when y’all do get comfortable enough though he loves bath time :)

•scratches your little head with his claws (lightly) a lot

•plays with your hair a lot especially in the tub

•your self care routine becomes his care for human routine

•honestly? He fucking prides himself on how well taken care of you are. He flaunts you like you have a pedigree

• “my ooman is better than yours”

•que fight

•you become friends with the other human and while they’re fighting, you guys are sitting in the dirt playing games.

•they come back like ?? Hello? Did you not see us? WERE U EVEN WATCHING?

•you get mad at him? He went and got you new worms

•all the colors

•he has a worm for his ships dash. He chills. Sometimes you catch him playing with it

•I had more ideas but I forgot

[monstersandmaw]

Male ‘yautja inspired’ alien x gender neutral reader - Part Three (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Well, folks. You’ve absolutely floored me with your support for this story. I don’t know where to begin to thank you. Without further ado, here’s Part Three. It’s only had one edit this time, so please forgive any mistakes???

I will just quickly remind you that this isn’t technically a Predator/Yautja fanfic. It’s heavily inspired, but to the people ‘correcting’ my lore mistakes with asks that I’ve largely ignored, it’s not supposed to be ‘canon’ or accurate. It’s just a story with aliens who look like predators because I don’t want to spend time doing research and I love the design. Yes, they are basically a feral predator and a jungle predator, but just not in name and not in lore detail, so there’s no need to ‘correct’ me. Thanks. (Also Croc is gonna get his own story at some point in the future, I’m determined. Just not with this reader)

Contents: mention of loss of comrade’s life, thunderstorm, all the tropes, the start of some classic pining, some misunderstanding, some soft chat, Croc starting to be an exasperated wingman, and everyone’s favourite trope to finish with: there was only one bed... Wordcount: 4744

Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw)

Neither of the aliens was anywhere to be seen when you finally stepped out into the chilly, misty morning after a night of broken sleep. Your neck twinged and your back hurt something fierce after so many nights with nothing but a flimsy camping mat between you and the lumpy forest floor. Arching your spine and hearing it pop quietly in the still air of the campsite, you moaned and wished for a comfy bed and a hot bath.

“The hell am I doing…?” you whispered.

Groggy, stiff, and more than a little sticky and gritty after days of hiking alone through the pine forest, you knew that face wipes were just not going to cut it for the fourth day in a row.

Given that it would be three days until their backup arrived, you figured you’d hang around the crash site — see if you couldn’t get them to open up a bit more about their culture, and about these other terrifying aliens they were hunting — and then slip away well before their help arrived. No need to push your luck with a species that was not known for being universally peaceful with strangers; after all, their backup might mistake you for the reason they were shot down…

You poked your head into the now-cool wreckage of their ship and stared around at the dark grey, polished metal walls and surfaces. Some areas though looked more like black, woven carbon fibre than metal, with glowing gold panels behind like carved, back-lit amber. They were too far off to see properly though, and with the grounded ship sitting at that angle, it was difficult to make out much else. There were a few doorways and compartments you could have poked around in, but since neither Big Red nor Croc was anywhere to be found in the limited area of the grounded ship that was still accessible, and since you couldn’t read the glyphs on any of the surfaces, you decided to leave it all well alone.

Their stuff was all still at the campsite though, stacked neatly beneath the tarpaulin. They hadn’t tramped off during the night to meet their rescuers at a different rendezvous point then, and you stood with your hands on your hips and stared around the campsite. Your breath fogged the air in front of you and you watched it twist and billow.

For a moment, it seemed as though the scent of fresh smoke drifted through the silent trees, but it could just have been coming from the wreckage, eddying in slow-spiralling drafts around the crash site. The acrid smell of it got in your nose and made you scowl and cough.

Your canteen needed refreshing and a glance down at your hiking gear brought a grimace to your face. After digging out a camping towel and the rest of your dirty laundry from your pack, you headed back to the stream from the previous night to rinse it out, wondering all the while where your two companions were. Even though the autumn air was cold, your clothes were all made of light, quick-drying fabric, and with an abundance of summer-dry pine wood all around you — half of it conveniently shattered to kindling from the impact of the crash — you’d have no trouble starting a fire if you needed a bit more heat.

With no one in sight when you reached the creek, you started by rinsing out your clothes in the clear water. The cold bit into your hands, piercing right down to the bone and making your movements slow and clumsy, but with that eventually done, you draped your laundry temporarily over a branch and weighed up whether you wanted to risk hypothermia just to get yourself clean for a while.

Deciding that getting briefly cold was preferable to remaining perpetually sticky, you stripped off and stepped down into the gully again. The basin of rock at the bottom was just deep enough and wide enough to stand in so that the water came up to lap around your ankles, but it wasn’t the kind of dreamy plunge pool worthy of a travel blog. It was slippery, slimy with green algae, and excruciatingly cold. Still, it would be enough for what your grandmother used to call a ‘cat’s lick and a promise’.

Stark naked, you dunked your upper body into the spattering stream of water and bit back a shriek as it hit your flesh. Hunched over and leaning close to the mossy wall, you rinsed your head and face, scrubbed beneath your arms and briefly between your legs, and then turned your back on the stream to rinse off your shoulders and back.

Turning around revealed a sliver of the view between the trees of the horseshoe valley below, and, more immediately, Big Red standing on a boulder about twenty paces away.

He wasn’t watching you though. Quite the contrary, he had his back to you and was staring off at the same sliver of forest framed by trees, but nevertheless you yelped in surprise at finding him there.

“I will not look,” he said in response.

“Fucking hell,” you spat back at him through chattering teeth as your whole body started to spasm from the cold. “How long have you been there?”

“Not long. I heard movement as I was coming back up the hill, but discovered… you.”

“Right.”

Perfect.

An alien had probably just seen you buck fucking naked, even if for only a second.

“Fuck. Fuck it’s cold.” You thought you heard him chitter a little laugh as you careered and splashed out of the stream like a panicked wildebeest and floundered up towards your camping towel to dry yourself off.

All the while you flailed around with the towel, Big Red remained completely silent and unmoving. Eventually — dry, dressed, and a little bit warmer — you turned around to find him exactly as you’d last seen him, staring out at the misty forest below.

There was something eerily melancholic in the set of his colossal shoulders and the stack of his spine though, and you paused, leaving your laundry where it was and approaching him quietly from behind.

Perhaps it was the cold that had taken the majority of your brain cells offline, but you came over to stand beside him on the flat rock and looked up at him. “Are you alight?” you asked in a soft murmur.

At that, he tilted his head down at you, mask glinting in the misty morning light. “Yes,” he said. After a beat he added, “We — ‘Croc’ and I — We burned our fallen squad-mate’s body at dawn.”

That explained the smoke on the air. With all the goings on of the previous evening, you’d forgotten that he’d said there had been one more.

Your heart twisted in your chest at his words and you reached instinctively for his bare bicep to squeeze the solid muscle with half-frozen fingers. “I’m so sorry,” you said, and turned to leave. “I won’t intrude.”

“Your presence is… welcome,” he rasped, though he returned his attention to the view. “You do not have to leave, though you have lost a lot of heat in that water.”

With a cosy fleece on to help warm you up, it was hardly an inconvenience to keep Big Red company for a while.

Neither of you broke the silence for a long time. Red just stood there with his hands cupped under his elbows, arms hugged across his bare chest, staring out at the trees in the crescent-moon valley below. It was choked in a pale fog beneath a heavy, iron-grey sky, and the details of the landscape blurred into nothing after no more than a quarter of a mile. Birds were still singing though, and Red seemed completely captivated by it.

Eventually, rocking on the balls of your feet to try and keep warm, you glanced back up at him. “What’s your planet like? ‘Secundus’, I mean.”

He spoke without looking down at you. “It is… not like this —” he gestured with his hand towards the gap in the trees “— Prime is more like this, but… the jungle there is… hot.”

“We’ve got hot and sweaty jungles here on Earth too. Croc might be happier there.”

Big Red nodded once.

“What about you?”

“I am used to… arid deserts,” he said. “Heat, sand, rock… Not trees for miles. Not… cold.” He said the word with such bafflement that you wondered if perhaps this was the coldest place he’d ever been.

“You’re cold now?” you asked and he nodded. With a little smirk, you said, “Well, maybe you should wear some more clothes then, you big exhibitionist.”

At that, Red did look down at you. At least, you thought he was looking. It was hard to tell with the mask on. His mandibles pinched inwards, puckering his mouth into a tight kind of scowl. “You are still below average temperature for a human,” he said.

“I’m warming up though. The walk back up to the camp should help too.”

Big Red nodded. “You should go.”

“Do you want me to?”

After a pause, he shook his head. The movement was so tiny you might have missed it altogether had not his braids clicked together softly.

“Can I ask you something else then?”

Again, he nodded. “So many questions.”

“Can you blame me?”

He laughed quietly at that and shook his head.

“Do you see in heat? In infra-red, I mean?”

Another nod. “I can see with my eyes too, but… they are weak. Especially here. The mask… lets me see the distance… and details.”

“Is that why you keep it on all the time?”

A long moment of silence stretched between you. “No.” He didn’t seem to want to elaborate more on that and you inhaled deeply, wondering what to ask next.

“How does it work?”

He sighed and raised his hand to his face. He lifted the mask off and immediately turned his face away from you again so that you couldn’t see him properly.

He was almost tall enough for it to work.

In profile though, you could just about see the delicate, prehensile mandibles, and a flat looking face that sloped up towards his large cranium, and you even glimpsed small, very deep-set eyes. His skin was a greyish red, like campfire ash, that faded to a pale, speckled gold in the centre of his face, and he didn’t seem to have the coronet of short spikes that Croc did just before the start of his cylindrical ‘braids’.

Without turning towards you, he stuck his hand out and offered his mask to you, inside facing upwards. You took it carefully in both hands, tearing your eyes away from what you could see of his face to stare at the mask, turning it over to stare at the smaller details. It was heavier than you’d expected it to be, but while the outside was made of stark, smooth bone, the inside was a warm, dark metal, similar to that of the ship’s interior. It was obvious that there were no eye-holes like there were in the metal ones you’d seen in the footage back at the base, and there were tiny little pads all over the inside that tingled when you ran your fingers over them. Some kind of electrode, perhaps.

“Is this how I saw all those images yesterday?” you asked and he grunted assent. “Never imagined I’d be plugging my brain into a piece of alien technology like it’s the fucking Matrix.”

He chirruped in confusion and almost turned to look at you, but caught himself in time. “I… do not understand.”

“It’s a film from the late nineties,” you muttered, returning your gaze to the mask and turning it over to look at the bone side. Trailing a fingertip along the tiny, almost cuneiform carvings that had been delicately engraved into the surface in an interlocking pattern, you asked, “Do you guys have movies?”

“Yes, but not like you do. They are… generated with… something close to what you call computer.”

“Boring. No actors and celebrities then?”

He shook his head. “We have famous warriors.”

“Naturally,” you quipped and he clicked his mandibles at you in amused agreement. “I think you’d like The Matrix,” you said, glancing up at him again. He was still angled away from you but you could feel his whole attention on you just the same. “I wonder if you could watch it in your head with this… Actually, that would be kind of perfect. The premise is that humanity is trapped in a kind of simulated reality, while machines feed off our bodies for energy but there’s this one guy — you know what, never mind. You should just watch it if you can.”

His mandibles twitched into what you’d come to assume was a slightly exasperated smile. He clicked at you but didn’t say anything in English.

When he didn’t move for a long stretch of minutes, either to take the mask back or to show you his face, you went out on a limb and asked, “Why don’t you want to look at me?”

He tensed and rotated his torso just a fraction further from you and shook his head, making his waxy ‘braids’ rattle against each other across his powerful shoulder and back muscles. The desire to touch, to feel his cool, hard skin beneath your fingertips was almost overwhelming again.

Exhaling in resigned defeat, you nudged his mask against the crook of his elbow and turned away while he took it in fumbling fingers. You left him standing on the rock and headed back up to the camp without looking at him. You were different species, after all, and you couldn’t expect to understand every little nuance of custom in a single day. Maybe Croc would explain it to you, if you could get him alone.

Croc was actually already back at camp when you trudged in with your armful of wet laundry, and he had started a cheery little campfire going too, despite the damp weather. You used the bit of spare cabling he offered you from the ship to string a temporary washing line between two trees, and draped your wet clothes over it to start drying off. That done, you approached Croc’s fire and asked if you could sit.

He grinned up at you from where he was perched on a crate and nodded enthusiastically.

“Big Red told me about your friend. I’m sorry,” you said.

Inclining his head formally, he said, “He is… at peace now. It is… the way of all our warriors.”

With a nod, you left the matter there. “How’s your arm?” It looked blackened and burned, but he seemed oddly sanguine about such a significant loss.

Again, he just shrugged.

“Is it… painful?”

Croc nodded. “A little,” he admitted. “But when we are… back on the mothership, I will… have a… How do humans call it…?” He mimed slotting something over the stump with his hand.

“A prosthetic?” you ventured.

“Yes! Though I have seen yours…” He didn't look impressed. “Ours are… permanent. Many warriors have… lost limbs… fighting the enemy. It is not so bad to… get made a new one.”

You nodded. “We could use tech like that,” you said under your breath. “Red told me a bit about this ‘enemy’ of yours… where are they from?”

The fire cracked and popped, and Croc told you what he could in his faltering way about the enemy they had fought for millennia on their planet. Apparently they had begun to spread off-world, and so his kind had followed, hunting them down. Croc then began to ask you a bit about your life, and about humans in general, and while you were sitting there, the mist thickened into a sheeting drizzle. You raced to pull in your laundry while Croc watched and laughed at you for trying to save the fabric, and once you’d dumped it all in your tent in a damp pile, you returned to sit with him again under the shelter of the tarp.

“Wear no clothes,” he said. “Then nothing to worry about!”

“Easy for you to say,” you scoffed, laughing. “Look at you! You’re both built like a tank!”

The rain drifted across the crash site in thick curtains, and despite the fleece and the protective tarpaulin, it wasn’t long before the elements started to creep down your collar and make you shiver.

“Red’s gonna get cold out there,” you murmured. There had been no sign of him for hours.

“Boss knows… how to take care of… himself,” Croc shrugged, but he didn't say it with his usual, affable confidence. He was worried about his friend too. “I must… take care of my weapon,” he announced, and you hoped to God that wasn't a euphemism.

Luckily it wasn’t, and he rose and returned a moment later from the ship with a complicated looking weapon that resembled some kind of sci-fi blaster gun. He laid it down on top of a crate, took out some kind of maintenance kit, and got to work.

You watched in silent fascination while he worked, and when he was just tightening the last screws on the casing, you asked about Red’s mask.

“Croc? Can I ask you something?”

He straightened up from his work, a tiny screwdriver held in his thick, clawed fingers like a surgeon’s knife. His yellow, reptilian eyes met yours, openly intrigued and he nodded. He seemed to enjoy answering your questions when he could.

“How come Big Red wears a mask all the time but you don’t? Is it a different species thing?”

Croc laughed at that, and half-turned his attention back to tightening whatever it was in the weapon that needed it. “No. But you have great honour… in seeing a warrior without their… helmet,” he said. There was a playful lilt to his tone that was almost self-effacing. From the way he said it, you got the impression that it would have been a great honour if he’d actually been given the choice about it, but now that it had happened, he didn’t mind.

His words kindled a sinking feeling in your gut though; Red clearly didn’t think you worthy enough of the honour of seeing his face, despite having saved his squad-mate’s life. Then again, you supposed it was fair enough. You barely knew him, and you were an alien too, in his eyes. Why should you get the honour of seeing him anyway?

Croc watched your reaction carefully. “My helmet…” he said, “It was destroyed… in the crash. When —” he cut off to make a series of clicks that clearly formed a name, though it didn’t sound like Red’s “— was killed and… that hole was blasted into the ship,” he said, indicating the gaping maw in the hull, “My helmet took… damage. Broken. I will manage without technology though.” With an honest-to-God, conspiratorial wink, he added, “Boss would struggle without his… He cannot see well with his eyes. And I am… much smarter than him. Adapt much better to Earth…” With another coltish grin he leaned in closer and added, “And much better looking, even to humans.”

Without warning, just as you barked a loud laugh, a small section of pine log hurtled through the air towards Croc. He spun and shot it out of the sky with the freshly-conditioned weapon, where it shattered to a spray of tinder on impact. He roared a belligerent, joyful challenge while debris rained down around you, and you turned to see Big Red standing on the far edge of the clearing, his shoulders rising and falling noticeably as he breathed. Then he spread his jaws as wide as he had when he’d charged you down the day before, and bellowed back at Croc.

Croc laughed and shook his head, responding to his superior in their own language. Croc then shot you a look when you just stood there in shock. “He challenges me. You are doubly honoured, human,” he said with a wry intonation that wasn’t dimmed by his difficulties in getting the sounds out around his sharp mandibles. “You get to watch two great warriors of our kind fight.”

“But… your arm,” you faltered, horrified. “Croc, you’re still healing…”

The shock must have shown in your face because he just laughed again. “We spar, small human… Not a real fight. Though,” he added with a few taunting clicks of his mandibles in Red’s direction, “Boss will not hold back.”

The ensuing fight took your breath away.

Croc reached into the cavity of the ship and tossed a small, metal stave over at Red, who caught it deftly and activated it to turn it into another one of the long, harpoon-like spears that were holding up two points of the canvas roof over part of the campsite.

The clearing naturally formed a kind of fighting ring, and the two circled each other with the familiarity of old sparring partners.

Croc said something that was clearly a taunt, but Red didn’t fall for it. He let Croc go first, whirling the spear around one-handed with surprising deftness. He clearly missed his other arm though, and went to grab the spear with a limb that was no longer there a few times, but once the two got into their stride, it was incredible. They danced around each other until finally Red struck with whip-crack speed. He swept Croc’s legs out from under him and held him in place on his back with the spear point steady at his throat. When Croc clicked at him, Red stepped back formally and waited for him to rise.

Red was faster and more precise than Croc, but Croc, even with his recently-acquired disability, was as powerful as his namesake, and more than once he knocked Red to the ground with a grunt of expelled air from his lungs. Once he even nicked Red’s upper arm with the blade at the tip of the spear, sending a trickle of lime green blood down his rust-red skin.

The way they moved together through the rain in perfect synchrony was mesmeric. Time passed, and it could have been minutes or hours before they finally drew to a halt.

They bowed, breathing hard, mandibles open, and then stepped close to one another. Touching foreheads as they had done the previous day, they touched their fang-tips to each other’s and then relaxed, turning away. Both of them were breathing hard, chests rising and falling while the rain poured off them like water down a cliff face.

“I’ve seen the soldiers on the base fight before…” you said as Red stalked over and grabbed a canteen of his own from the ship’s supplies, upending it into his stretching maw. The liquid was an unappetising pinkish-purple, the same as the plants you’d seen in the footage of the alien they were hunting, and although he drank deeply, he was obviously listening to you. “…But I’ve never seen anyone fight like that. You two are…”

“Impressive?” Croc grinned, coming up beside Red and slapping his commander on the small of his back, well out of the way of his braids.

Red tossed a snide comment over his shoulder at Croc, who laughed. “I can still… almost beat him… with only one arm. Boss is losing his… edge. Even with an audience.”

Big Red shook his head and quietly offered Croc the bottle, which he took.

The three of you settled down by the fire after that while the weather worsened, and by late afternoon, you had listened to them tell you, in their stilted, awkward way of speaking English, about how their ships worked, what the structure of their society was like, and roughly how many of their kind there were on Earth at the moment. Not many. Not enough to face the enemy, you realised.

“You’re going to need humans to get involved in this hunt too, aren’t you?” you asked, and after exchanging a brief look, both Croc and Red nodded. “You want me to talk to my boss when I get back?”

“I will show you… what you need to know… about them,” Big Red said, tapping his mask with a claw again. “You can tell them. Prepare.”

Puffing your cheeks out, you exhaled and nodded.

They ate rations that seemed similar to what you were living off — necessary, but not something they’d pick given the choice — and as night closed in and the weather picked up to a lashing rain, you dashed across the muddy crash site and dived into your tent for the night to write up your notes. You had a small camera with you, but you hadn’t dared ask them if they would consent to being filmed, and something about it made you feel… wrong somehow. It turned them from a vastly intelligent, sapient race into something akin to laboratory specimens for analysis, and that didn’t sit right with you.

Three hours later, as a full-blown storm crashed down on the forest outside, you began to shiver. It wasn’t so much the cold, though the damp was creeping up through the earth, through the groundsheet and into the mat, but good, old-fashioned fear. You’d never been outside in this kind of weather before, and although your tent was military-issue, its flapping walls felt very flimsy.

A tree fell with an ear-rending series of cracks a little while later and you forced yourself to breathe steadily. It did absolutely nothing for your galloping heart rate, and you curled in on yourself, huddling more tightly in your sleeping bag and trying not to whimper. Like a child, you wanted to draw something over your head and hide away until it was all over.

An indistinct roar rose above the howling wind and you opened your eyes to see a figure silhouetted against the fabric of your tent like a slasher from a horror movie. For a wild moment, your mind went completely blank until you recognised the timbre of the roar. It was Big Red.

With shaking fingers, you unzipped your tent and a face full of rain and spray blasted in almost immediately.

“Not safe…” Red growled, reaching into your tent with his huge hand and practically yanking you to your feet.

“Wait!” you shrieked, flailing. “Let me put some boots on before you drag me out into a fucking storm!”

Red released you and stepped back. Water cascaded in rivulets down his bare, hard skin, and the contours of his body were illuminated by the steady glow of a flashlight that must have come from their ship.

You stuffed your feet into your boots, grabbed your phone and the small emergency pack from the top of your rucksack, and bundled yourself up into a waterproof.

Praying that your flimsy tent would still be there in the morning, you stepped out, zipped it up again, and scuttled at Red’s side towards the hole in the side of the hull of his ship.

“Now what?” you yelled up at him above the racket of the wind that raced past the opening.

Red didn’t waste time with words, and just pointed. A small hatch was open in the ship’s inner wall that you could have sworn was closed earlier, and you ducked unquestioningly through it to find a cosy chamber, though everything was rotated ninety degrees after the crash. A bunk had been bolted to the bulkhead, but Red had dragged the mattress off it and laid it on the wall which was now the floor.

“If you do not… mind,” he said. “You may sleep here. It is safer than out there.”

You nodded. “What about you?”

“I will go with Croc.”

Red turned to go, but something made you call out to him. “Wait.”

He stopped halfway through ducking out of the doorway and regarded you.

“You could stay,” you said. “I’m smaller than Croc. You’ll have more room.”

“You… would not… mind?”

With a little smile, you shrugged out of your waterproof and crossed to hang it from a peg near the door. He watched you closely, as though expecting you to change your mind.

The water that was still dripping off your coat made a musical little rhythm as it hit the floor and you shook your head. “So long as you dry yourself off first, I don’t mind at all.”

___

Next Chapter --->

I hope you’re still enjoying where this is going! Your asks and tags in the reblogs have kept me going these last couple of days, so thank you.

If you happen to have a couple of bucks spare, you could always drop a tip on my Ko-fi, but reblogs are just as welcome and just as helpful! More soon, I hope... I know where it’s going - I just have to write it and things are about to get super busy in my life.

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

[charnelhouse]

this is the predator dream anon 👋🏽 I am a proud monster fucker, it was some thing I recently came to terms with about myself. Have I watched all of the predator movies? No. Did I start a binging session and never finish? Yes. Did I have some kind of curiosity towards these creatures while watching? Yes. This was all like a year ago before I came to terms with who I am as a person. I am I feel like I have to do so much research and just start reading your fics because I saw you naming some of them like specifically and I want to know who I’m picturing.  in other words, I’m about to go down a research spiral just to be able to fully take in all the glory that I know you have written (I feel like I said a lot just to say nothing lmao)

So any names I listed are straight up pulled from the yautja name maker online lmaooo

But I did try and research their culture and language

[clonewarslover55]

The Hunt

(The Delta Squad and a Predator(Yautja) crossover)

A summary and notes of a Predator and Clone Wars crossover fic! 

Summary:

The Delta Squad are sent on a mission to scope out a possible Sepratist presence on the Jungle World of Dajhitt. The separatists may have a secret base on this world, where a horrible weapon may be in progress of being built. 

The Delta’s are there to stop it, but things never go according to plan for these Clone Commandos. The jungle of the world of Dajhitt is a very active place, noises are constantly all around them. Thousands of pairs of eyes watch the Delta’s as they do their job, but one pair sends a shiver down their spines more than any other.

The eyes are of a Yautja warrior, a very skilled one at that. The Clone Commandos catch his attention quickly, and the warrior becomes hungry for their hunt instead of his original one. 

Will they survive this mission? Or will they become nothing more than a trophy on Yautja's wall?

As @scuttlebuttin​ said in Jungle Moved “~Better run through your jungle, boys. Don’t look back to see or else you become a shish kabob~”

Notes and warnings under the cut! Please read! :)

Notes: 

This story is kind of similar to the story Jungle Moved that I wrote with @scuttlebuttins a while back. In this story though, it is in the Star Wars Universe, in a galaxy far far away from Earth and its island of Gutlama. 

The characters are the lovely Delta’s! And a Predator OC I made while writing this. You can find out more about both when you read. It switches points of view between the Delta’s and the Yautja often, but it’s obvious when. You’ll be seeing a lot of my predator OC in this. ;)

(Also! The Yautja, the planet, and many of the creatures are of my own creation! But I do not own the Delta Squad, or the Yautja race. Not even the battle droids and other Sepratist things that may or may not be involved in this story.)

To read this you don’t need to know anything about the Delta’s or really much about Yautja! Watching Predator before reading this isn’t advised like when I wrote Jungle Moved, so have fun. 

Just enjoy the read and remember; never look back when you run from the beasts of the jungle. 

I will post the same warnings at the beginning of each chapter to not spoil what happens within them!! So stay on your toes my darling readers! 

Here is the gist of the warnings:

Blood, Gore, Death, Major death?? Alien technology, Delta squad humor, Horrible language, like so many cuss words, Alien dude, like a big sexy alien dude who's an OC of mine, Violence, fighting, Planet I made, jungle stuff, suspension, multiple parts, Alien culture, clone culture, injury?? Animal death, the Delta Boys are called ‘clones’ a lot and I am so sorry 

Going into detail on the warnings here! 

So this fic will be similar, but yet very different from Jungle Moved. 

There will still be a lot of violence and jungle things, but not nearly as many guns or death as there was in Jungle Moved. I’m nasty and predator fics really let me embrace my love for gore, so please enjoy! 

Find chapter one here!

[lavaridgecookie]

Hullo, and welcome to my little imagines, HCs, and, occasionally, ask meme blog <3 I’ve noticed very little love for nonhuman F/Os and S/Is, for platonic selfshipping, and for familial stuff, and I’m here to fix that :D I do mostly sfw stuff, but am not adverse to trying my hand at nsfw. 

I take requests! I'm open unless I say I'm closed, but I'm really really slow, sorry.

My specialties include:

Nonhuman S/Is of any type, in romantic OR platonic/familial scenarios! Ranging from human-adjacent (vampires, werewolves, anthro animals) to as wild as you can get (eldritch beings, non-bipedal aliens, S/Is that are The Thing-esque) and anything in between (robots, kobolds, dragons) any way you wanna be, I’ve got you covered! 

Nonhuman F/Os! Not only do I, personally, romantically ship with multiple characters in varying states of nonhumanity, but I familially ship with like. more than 10 robots who are ALSO in varying stages of nonhumanity. Robots CAN be your baby brothers and sisters, if you believe <3

Familial stuff! Siblings, parents, children, aunts and uncles, that really cool older cousin you love talking to, whatever! I got you. Sometimes a family is you, your six children, your eldest son’s alien boyfriend, and your extended family who are all mostly murderers.

Platonic stuff! Sometimes you want to jazzercise with your besties, and sometimes your besties are a group of elite alien mercenary soldiers.

Poly relationships! Any kind!

Please Note:

I have not seen every movie, or read every book, or consumed every piece of media. If you need something more specific than ‘my f/o or s/i has wings // can shapeshift // is an eldritch creature’ please give me more background information! Like I know what a Yautja is in a technical sense, but I’ve never actually seen Predator so I don’t have any context for their society or behaviour! I’ll list what I’m familiar enough with to need no context at the bottom of the post <3 That being said, feel free to infodump all day every day about your favourite species, bc I’m a lore hound and loooooooove hearing about fantasy cultures and biology.

I work a full-time job, have ADHD and am suffering from burnout. Posts may be sporadic! I will answer asks out-of-order! Please be patient with me

THIS BLOG IS INCLUSIVE. I WILL NOT EVER EVER EVER DISCRIMINATE BASED ON GENDER/ORIENTATION/ETC. I’m genderqueer, bi, poly, and an alterhuman! Panphobes, TERFS, and ace exclusionists can fuck right off! That being said, any and all hate will not get acknowledged. This shouldn’t even be an issue but I want to make my stance crystal-fucking-clear: your identity, whatever it may be, is valid. 

I am an adult! Any nsfw will be properly tagged as NSFT + minors DNI, and I ask that minors not interact with those posts. That said, minors are welcome on this blog, welcome to submit sfw asks, etc.

I write both fluff AND angst! I like both! They’ll be tagged as such~ I’m especially very, very fond of lifespan difference stuff. I know this can be triggering for some people, and the tag for it is ‘Mayfly-December’

I knowwwwwww my URL has ‘cookie’ in it, but this is a reference to a Pokemon thing. I luv gen III <3 I’m willing to do cookie run stuff but I know next to nothing about cr other than Vamp(?) looks genderqueer as hell 

Sources I am familiar with

Gregor the Overlander

Silverwing (including Duskwing)

The Sight

The Thing

ALIEN (first 2 movies)

Homestuck (I’ve read some of ^2 but am NOT caught up)(can also do Petstuck of any flavour)

Wolves of the Beyond (up through Frost Wolf)

a few more xenofiction novels, feel free to ask

Any and all Zelda species, from any game

Pokemon (I’ve played up to B/W)

Digimon, to an extent.*

Chobits (anime)

Astro Boy

Sonic the Hedgehog (game canon from Forces and earlier, I have a working knowledge of Boom as well)

Beastars (manga)+ Beast Complex 

Brand New Animal

Doctor Who (mostly NuWho)

Transformers (mostly G1, TFA an TFOne)

DBZ + GT (I haven’t seen Super, but I could probably get Whis and Beerus down well)

MLP: FiM (including ALL idw comics!)

MegaMan (classic and some of X)**

CATS the Musical (I haven’t yet seen the 2019 movie, but I’m familiar with the revival and the 1998 movie)

Thomas and Friends (in a general sense, if you want to request a specific character I'll need personality traits)

probably some others, but these are all ones I can do without needing for you to explain anything

* I can do any individual Digimon, but haven’t seen every anime, so if you are looking for a character-specific Digimon, please specify!

**I can do all mainline classic characters, including any desired robot master. However, please be aware that I’ve been in this fandom for over a decade, so my HCs for certain robot masters may differ from current popular consensus! If you want a specific personality trait, please specify. For X, I really only know X, Zero, Vile, Axl, and Sigma well enough to do HCs with no further prompting.

[idreamtofmanderleyagain]

There's a new Predator movie coming out, and all the fragile dudes on twitter are getting upset because there's a female protagonist (presumably) fighting a Predator. They're making all these weird fucking arguments about how A) a woman couldn't fight a predator and B) the predators don't fight ladies.

All these dudes would be "fake fans", because apparently they don't know that canonical Alien/Predator lore, and I mean lore that been around since the 80's an 90's, says that the Yautja, the Predator race, are a fucking MATRIARCHAL CULTURE lmaoo, their ladies are bigger and meaner than their males! Why would they A) think a female couldn't fight back or B) avoid hunting ladies purely out of some sense of chivalry? The only canonical reason they ever avoided hunting women was because A) those women were unarmed/not battle-ready, and therefore it would have been a dishonorable hunt, or B) they were pregnant, which is a whole different thing for the same honor code reason.

To my memory, one of the most acclaimed AvP comic stories, which the first AvP movie was very loosely based on, involved a woman gaining the respect of a Yautja clan and being accepted into it.

I'm laughing this is so funny. There's nothing these boys can say that will matter, they're just dead wrong on every level and there's nothing they can do about it!

[thelastraigeki]

My Thoughts on Predator 5

It’s been a long time since I talked about anything in relation to the Predator franchise. To me, the franchise has been steadily going down hill with the release of Robert Rodriguez’s 2010 sequel PREDATORS and there didn’t seem to be going back after that movie whatsoever. Bad ideas had begotten more bad ideas in the expanded universe material with the idea that there were Predators who were bigger and badder than the original concept which Stan Winston came up with, that the idea of the original Yautja species was outdated and no longer iconic.

And for nearly eight years, I struggled to hold onto the franchise as a loyal fan. And then when 2018′s sequel, The Predator was released under the direction of Shane Black and written by Fred Dekker... I considered the franchise dead in the water, and that there was nothing short of saving it save for a full on reboot or a massive retcon which kept Predator, Predator 2, and both AVP films in continuity... But I knew I was never going to get that. A fan would have to be hopeful or deluded to think that would happen. Perhaps I was the former, perhaps I was the latter, perhaps I was both.

And then the Disney purchase happened. My greatest fear was finally realized, as the Mouse devoured another company in the film industry and now owned the intellectual rights to both the Alien and Predator franchise. I saw what they are doing to Star Wars, or rather what they were doing-- and I saw what they are doing to Marvel comics-- the MCU being a success but the comics not so much with Disney pandering to the Tumblr and Twitter crowd.

And with the Disney purchase I knew that they were going to do to Alien-Predator with what they did to Star Wars. And that was the erasure of the existing expanded universe material which was published by Dark Horse, the first stewards in creating what used to be a shared universe which was birthed in the comics. Marvel acquired the rights, and so far it doesn’t seem like as if they plan on continuing the continuity laid out by Dark Horse.

In hindsight, I consider this a blessing as I hope they NEVER touch the beloved characters of Dachande, Machiko Noguchi and many other characters that are so beloved by the fandom.

And then I had read that after the DISASTROUS performance and fandom reaction towards Shane Black’s The Predator, that a Predator 5 was going to be put into production. A part of me was hopeful in that this could be a full on retcon of Shane Black’s movie, and maybe Robert Rodriguez’s movie-- or a full on reboot of the franchise. But instead, what we were getting was a prequel to the 1987 John McTiernan movie...

So, this was a movie which... everyone wanted to see. It’s something that’s never really been explored, unless you count the first AVP: Alien vs Predator movie, but those were flashback segments in the film.

Then the details of the movie started coming out, and already it was just... stinking of Disney’s agenda. It would serve as a complete antithesis to what the original movie was-- which let’s face it, was a testosterone injected and masculine 1980s action movie with memorable one liners. The story for this upcoming movie was about a Native American young girl who decides to go up against the tribe patriarchy while also fighting against an enemy never before encountered on Earth.

Now, I am not saying that an action movie cannot have a female protagonist. The Alien films show this and they do it BEAUTIFULLY. But bare in mind, this was handled with care and focus on the story first from both Ridley Scott and James Cameron for the first two Alien films. This could most certainly be done for Predator if in the right hands...

But Disney is NOT what I would consider the right hands, especially considering what Disney has done to Star Wars with the sequel films-- which I now hearing, are about to be retconned out of continuity by the efforts of John Favreau and company much to the displeasure of Kathleen Kennedy.

But this movie just screams everything Anti-Predator. Many fans have even said that this is just Mulan but with a Predator in it. And I have to agree with them.

And then word got out that the Thomas Brothers were fighting for the acquisition of the franchise from the hands of Disney. I say good luck to the Thomas Brothers, especially since they are fighting to get the franchise which they have a major hand in creating from the clutches of Mickey Mouse, but we all know the Mouse has a crack team of lawyers who are going to do whatever they can for their company to keep the franchise.

And then the news gets worse, as now the word is that Predator 5, now titled as Skull, is going to be about the FIRST hunt on planet Earth-- the first visitation by the Predators in a pre-colonial era America. So when this was announced, this was an indicator that both the AVP films were going to be ejected out from the Predator canon, as they were ejected out from the Alien canon with the arrival of Prometheus.

This would mean for both the Alien and Predator franchises, that thirty years of storytelling, thirty years of character development, thirty years of developing the Predator culture, thirty years of a shared universe... Is now destroyed. It’s put on the chopping block, ready to be axed and when that happens... the past has been destroyed. Yes, that pun was intentional as it’s a reference to what Kylo Ren said in one of the Star Wars sequel movies.

And the upcoming movie is rumored to be released only on Hulu because of the legal disputes between the Thomas Brothers and Disney... It might not even get a theater release. And I hope it doesn’t.

To me, the golden era of Alien and Predator has long since passed with the 1990s when Alien vs. Predator was a big thing-- to where even children’s toys were produced by Kenner for it and a side-scrolling beat’em up by Capcom was released. I am quite happy with the 2004 and 2007′s AVP films-- regardless of what anyone else thought of them as I felt they were true to the original source material-- which was the comics and novels, as they spawned the idea of a shared universe.

2010 was where it ALL started falling apart... And now Disney owns it all.

The franchise is dead. Now it’s being desecrated for the greedy corporate shills who just don’t care about the lore and want to see nothing but dollar signs... Of course, Fox wasn’t doing any better with the franchise. It’s been dead since 2018.

I’m not going to see this movie. What made it special is going to be killed off a second time. And I hope it doesn’t release in theatres and that the Thomas Brothers get it back.

[mostlydysfunction]

Sacred (NSFW)

Summary: Chloe wakes up on an alien spaceship heading away from Earth in the company of a lone Yautja. 

Pairing: Yautja/Predator x human OC

Warnings: Smut, violence, swearing, shitty attempts at Yautja culture, blood.

A/N: Here it is! Finally! This is more anticipated than I thought it would be. I’m definitely excited for this one though. I do love some big mean alien lizard boys. I definitely tried to get as much right about Yautja culture as I could but don’t expect it all to be right. I definitely took some liberties with it as it is fiction. And I kinda modeled him after the Fugitive Predator from The Predator. 

************

Chloe’s head is throbbing when she wakes. She’s warm, sweat coating her skin. She’s sore, her muscles protesting every movement. She kicks the pelt off her body, rolling over on the hard surface. It takes a moment for her brain to catch up, quickly registering that she wasn’t in her room. Wasn’t in her bed. It was far too firm to be her old mattress, and she didn’t have any animal pelts either.  Second, it was the middle of winter, so there was no way it could be that hot and humid in her room. 

Her body protests as she sits up, rubbing her eyes. The lights in the room are dim, giving her just enough light to see. The entire room seems to be made of metal, floor to ceiling. She’s laying in a sunken part of the floor, oval shaped with a ton of pelts layered under her. She crawls to the step, pulling herself up and onto the metal floor. It’s cool against her body, causing goosebumps to form on her bare legs. She’s been stripped down to her boyshort underwear and the tank top she wore under her clothes. She rubs her legs, feeling a bumpy scar on the back of her calf, running her fingers along the raised, jagged line. Her head is pounding as she looks around the somewhat empty room, seeming all too sterile and plain. 

Her vision spins as she forces herself up onto her feet, her limbs feeling heavy. She can’t remember much, especially how she got to this place. She remembers being in her house, doing her morning routine, but everything after that is blank. She stumbles as she tries to take a step, reaching out to catch herself against a wall. A panel slides up, making her step back in surprise. It was some sort of cover over a window. What Chloe sees out the window takes her breath away. 

Black, inky darkness dotted with billions of pinpricks of light. She presses her hand against the glass, staring out at space in disbelief. Everything comes rushing back to her in that moment, the eventful day slamming back into her brain like a sledgehammer. 

******************

Chloe’s breath steams out in front of her as she treks through the trees, hunting for firewood. She hadn’t expected her central heating to crap out in the dead of winter, forcing her to fire up the old wood stove. To do that, she needed wood to feed the fire. It was the weekend and the repairman couldn’t even come out to her place until Monday at the earliest, so she was stuck either freezing or foraging for logs to tide her over until then. 

The forest was quiet, even for winter. It unnerved her a bit, sending tickles of fear quavering down her spine. Something was off, even her dull human survival instincts able to pick up on it. But she didn’t have a choice. All she had was a small hatchet, and the trees were far too big in her yard for her to cut branches down by herself. 

The creature is practically on top of her before she even knows it’s there. It moves silently, creeping up on her, only its gigantic shadow dwarfing her own giving her any warning that there’s something behind her. Her stomach practically leaves her body as a hand closes around the back of her jacket, yanking her off her feet. A startled yelp leaves her lips as she’s pulled away from the branch she had been inspecting and lifted a good three feet off the ground. 

A growl meets her ears, her brain circulating through all the predators that didn’t go into hibernation that lived in the area, but it’s nothing she recognizes. She’s turned around, coming face to face with a metal mask. The creature holding her is huge and like nothing she’s ever seen before. For one, it’s far underdressed for the weather. The revealed skin is reptilian like, but the fact it was standing on two legs was just the first sign that it was not reptilian, nor probably from the planet at all. It was entirely alien to her. 

It lets out a loud growl in her face, Chloe’s heart nearly stopping at the sound. The growl vibrates through her entire body, her hand gripping the handle of the hatchet tighter. The hatchet. She hadn’t let it go in her surprise when she was yanked off her feet. She grips it even tighter, lifting it before bringing it down hard on the arm that’s holding her up, near the inside of the creature’s elbow. It bellows out, neon green blood leaking from the wound as it lets her go in surprise. 

She drops to the ground, her legs nearly giving out at the force, but she steadies herself, not wasting any time in taking off running back towards her home. Green blood has stained her hatchet, but she doesn’t pay it any mind as she keeps her death grip on it. Trees explode around her as the creature shoots at her, making her duck and weave to try and avoid getting shot. 

She’s nearly to her home when something bites into the back of her leg, cutting clean through the layers on her lower half and into her muscle. It sends her stumbling, landing hard on her knees on the ground. She spins around, finding the creature stalking up towards her. Her leg is on fire, the muscle throbbing in time with her heart. 

Red beams light up on the side of the creature’s mask, forming a triangle-shaped target right at the center of her chest. This was it. This was how she would die. Not peacefully in bed like she’d once hoped, but in the woods in the middle of winter at the hands of an alien creature. 

Chloe closes her eyes, preparing for death, but the shot never comes. There’s a second roar, a different sounding one, before the tree inches from her head explodes. Chloe opens her eyes, finding a second of the reptilian alien creatures having tackled the first, and now they were fighting each other. The new alien is smaller than the other, but still it would dwarf her if she got close enough to it. 

She didn’t plan on testing that theory though, instead reaching to the back of her leg and pulling out the metal device from her leg. It looked almost like an arrowhead, but much larger than any she’d ever seen. She doesn’t spend much time inspecting it, instead forcing herself to her feet. The creatures were engaged in an intense battle and she didn’t want to wind up in the middle of it, more than she already had. So, she pushes through the pain, starting to make her way back towards her home.

She’s almost out of earshot of the battle, which was quite the distance since they were making quite the ruckus when she stops. A thought runs through her mind, guilty and tugging at her heartstrings.

The second creature had saved her. Whether that was its intention, it had inadvertently saved her. Could she really walk away and leave it to possibly end up in the same situation as her? Who would be there to help it? Who’s to say the larger of the two wouldn’t hunt her down as soon as it finished off the smaller one? She had injured it, outright attacking it. She hadn’t known if it was going to hurt her or not, and she had enraged it by trying to get away from it, acting out of fear. So, by extension, the smaller creature’s death could be her fault. 

Chloe curses her soft heart before turning around, pushing herself back the way she’d come, following the sounds of the fight. It sounded closer now, brutal and loud. She was glad she lived in the middle of nowhere, no doubt having tons of people around would make this even more dangerous. Not that she was one to talk. She was walking back into a fight she was far from prepared to join. 

The creatures have formed a small clearing when she finds them again. The trees in the area have been either uprooted or knocked down. The larger one seems to have the upper hand, beating on the smaller one like nobody’s business. So her gut feeling had been right. It looked like she was about to repay the favor she owed to the alien creature. 

It’s not hard to sneak up on them, the ruckus they’re making loud enough to cover her limping footsteps through the snow. She grips her trusty hatchet, coming up behind the larger alien as it sends fist after fist into the smaller alien’s mask. She hesitates for a second, waiting for the creature’s arm to be lowered before she brings the hatchet down, throwing all of her weight into the strike. It digs deep into the creature’s uncovered shoulder, neon green blood spraying and painting the snow at her hit. 

She sees it coming, but her brain reacts too slowly, the creature’s hand sweeping out and hitting her hard. She goes flying back, landing several yards away in the snow. The impact has her choking on air, something cracking audibly at the force of the hit and the impact with the ground. She struggles to bring air back into her lungs, dazed as the snow-covered trees dance and swirl above her head. She vaguely recognizes the sound of something coming towards her, but she can’t do anything. Can’t bring herself to move. 

Chloe’s eyes try to focus on the alien above her, the large creature standing over her. Had it been worth it, signing her death warrant to save an alien that probably didn’t give two shits about her? At least she wouldn’t die with a guilty conscience. 

But the strike never comes. The large alien disappears from her line of sight, Chloe forced to watch the sky darkening. Or was that just her vision fading out? She can barely register the fight happening just a few feet away until she can’t hear it anymore. Was it over or was this her losing her own fight to stay awake? 

The alien appears in her line of sight again, kneeling down next to her. No, this was the smaller one. She could recognize the differences in their helmets, the differences in their sizes. Was he going to finish her off? Kill her for trying to help him? Thank her before leaving her there to freeze and die? The last thing Chloe sees before her vision goes dark is her hatchet in its hand, coming down towards her. 

***********************

Chloe sinks to her knees, staring out at the darkness of space. The alien had abducted her. She had been sure it would kill her too. She had gone in to repay her debt, to help it without even knowing if it was friendly or not. One of its kind had tried to kill her. What had made her think the other one would be any different? 

The sound of an airlock releasing has her spinning around, crouched on the floor next to the window. The alien is there, stepping into the room. He’s a hulking mass of muscle and strength, threatening despite the small amount of armor and lack of visible weaponry he carried. But she had seen what they were capable of with their bare hands, felt what they were capable of with just their strength alone. 

She feels vulnerable, exposed where she is. She’s completely at its mercy and she has no idea what its intentions are. Would it probe her? Run tests on her? Experiment on her? Did it have other intentions? Had she been brought along just for its simple pleasure? She has no idea, and the mask covering its face offers her no hints to its mood, its thoughts, its plans regarding her. 

Chloe takes a deep breath, the air stuttering in her throat as she stares at the hulking alien in the room with her. “You...you brought me here?”

It nods its head once in a quick motion. At least it understands her. 

“I want to go home. I want to go back to Earth.” 

It shakes its head once, again a quick motion. 

Chloe feels her throat wanting to close to hold in sobs, tears threatening to spill. “Why? Why won’t you take me back?” 

It looks down at its wrist gauntlet, pressing a few buttons before looking back to her, speaking with a mechanical voice. “Can’t. Bad Bloods know you now. Too dangerous.” 

The words make little sense to Chloe’s already throbbing head, her brain refusing to put any meaning to them. She drops to her knees again, her body folding in on itself as pain and fear take over. She presses her forehead against the floor, the metal cool against her skin. Despite the heat in the room, she’s shivering, tears starting to pool on the metal below her face. 

Once again she’s taken by surprise at the large creature’s silence, her body springing into action as a warm hand touches her back. She sits up, spinning and throwing a wild fist in his direction. He’s faster than she is though, catching her hand in one of his own huge ones. He’s quick to catch her other hand, holding both of her wrists in one of his hands. His sharp nails prick her skin as she struggles against him, drawing small beads of blood to the surface. His hand smears it on her skin as he forcefully moves her, her back ending up against his chest, both of them sitting on the floor. 

A clicking sound starts deep in its chest, reverberating against her back. It vibrates through her, continuous and slow. It was a purr used by his kind to calm distressed pups and occasionally a distressed or wounded female. He knew humans weren’t capable of this, and didn’t use this to calm their young, but he figures he would try it. Her reaction had not been what he expected, and he had hoped the sedative would keep her asleep for longer than it had.

Eventually his plan does work. Chloe goes limp against his chest, tears still trailing down her face. 

“I just want to go home.” Her voice is weak, hardly more than a whimper. 

He’s warm against her back, his body heat unnatural to her. It had been a long time since a human had held her, but still she knows humans weren’t as warm as him. Her head feels heavy, the throbbing worse from her crying fit. She’s tired and worn out, her head lolling against the creature’s shoulder. Its purring had calmed her down, her brain pulling up something she’d read on the internet about cats purrs calming humans. She’s exhausted and her brain has had too much to deal with, too much information to try to process through, and she finds herself drifting off to sleep. 

************

The little ooman female is finally asleep. 

Tarei’hsan watches her, her body temperature finally lowered, her breathing even. Things had not gone like he’d planned. He knew revealing she was no longer on Earth would be a messy situation, but he had planned on easing her into the idea. He’d forgotten about the viewports on the ship, and she had stumbled across one, making the discovery on her own. 

He wished he could make her understand. 

He’d been sent out to hunt the Bad Bloods, followed them planet to planet, always a step behind them until they’d dallied too long on Earth. He’d finally caught up with them, just in time to find one ready to kill the little ooman currently in his arms. He hadn’t intended on her being there, nor on saving her life. He had a duty he was tasked with, to wipe out the Bad Bloods before they could do any more harm.

But the little ooman was surprising. 

She had come back and saved his life. He had been losing the fight, ready to end both their lives when she’d appeared. She’d nearly died to give him an upper hand. He couldn’t stay there to let other Bad Bloods from that clan take their revenge. Not when she had risked her life for his. 

He was breaking laws having her on his ship. 

But she had proven her bravery. Taken on a Bad Blood to help him. She’d been close to death by the time he’d gotten her to his ship, giving him no other choice but to give her his blood to make sure she healed properly. 

He had broken so many laws in a short amount of time, and he can’t even explain why. 

He could have left her there. Returned to his ship and forgot her existence. But he hadn’t. He had brought her on board his ship, taken her away from her home planet. 

Pauk, he was an idiot. 

Maybe it was the soft curves of her body, the smooth skin pressed close against his own. Maybe it was the musky scent that burned his throat emanating from her. Maybe it was the fire that burned inside her, what he’d seen when she’d attacked the Bad Blood, tried to attack him despite her obvious distress. 

He can’t explain it. 

He doesn’t dwell on it much longer, carefully shifting the female ooman in his arms before lifting her off the floor. He steps back down into his nest, laying her down carefully in the pelts. He covers her body again, watching her for a moment longer before taking his leave, heading back towards the controls. 

*********

Chloe wakes up in the strange bed again. She’s alone once again, something she’s partially glad about. She had lost control of herself, lost any sense of sanity when she’d seen what lay outside the walls surrounding her. She was flying through space. She was some unknown distance from Earth, from her home, from everything she knew. She was on an alien’s spaceship, flying through space to god knows where. 

The entire thing seemed absurd. 

But then again, she had fought off a giant alien reptile creature that had wanted to kill her what seemed like hours ago to her. She’d saved the life of one of them, nearly risking her own to do so. The alien had said she wasn’t safe on Earth. That the “Bad Bloods” knew her. 

That sentence didn’t make any sense to her, but she tries not to dwell on it for the moment. She had more pressing matters. First things first, she really had to pee. 

She climbs out of the bed again, feeling along the wall. There had to be another door somewhere. As soon as she gets close part of the wall opens up, revealing what looks like, to her best estimation, the bathroom. It’s very much nothing like the bathrooms she’s used to, but she does her best. 

Second, she’s starving. 

She’s not sure how long it had been since she’d eaten last, remembering breakfast that morning, but she’s not sure how long ago that day had been. It could have been that morning for all she knew, or it could have been weeks ago. Her sense of time was almost nothing, the never ceasing inky darkness outside the window doing nothing to help. 

Chloe makes her way towards the exit of the room, the door sliding open automatically again. She hesitantly steps out, staying on her toes in case there were more of them on the ship. Or for anything unexpected, really. She wasn’t even sure how big the ship was. 

Not very big, she finds out, walking the entire thing before finding her way to what had to be the control room. The helm. Whatever they called it in spaceships. The door slides open as she comes near, the alien creature spinning around in his chair at the noise. A trilling purr sounds from his throat, but Chloe doesn’t pay any attention to it, her eyes drawn out the front window. She can’t help herself, stepping up closer to get a better view. 

The planet they’re flying by was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. Judging by their angle of flight, it wasn’t the one they were going to, but it shocked her nonetheless. She stares at it as they pass, only realizing her mouth is hanging open and she’s nearly standing right next to the pilot’s chair then. 

She steps away, blushing slightly. “Sorry.” She suddenly realizes how bare she is, still only in a tank top and her underwear, crossing her arms over her chest, her fingernails picking at her skin out of habit. “I’m hungry.” 

She feels strange saying that phrase to an alien. She feels like a kid, asking some strange grownup she’s known for five minutes for something to eat. She doesn’t even know if the alien will feed her, or let her starve until they arrive at their destination. Did they eat? Was there food on the ship? 

The alien stands from his seat, and her guess was right. He towers over her by a good two feet, her head not even close to reaching its shoulder. She really felt like a child then, having to bend her neck to stare up at its mask covered face. 

It motions at her with its head to follow and she does, having to speed up to keep up with its fast-paced steps. Another set of doors opens up as it approaches, making its way through them. She follows, unsure of what to do. There’s a table and chairs set up and what she assumes is a food storage area. Again, it’s entirely alien to her, but then again, the entire situation was alien to her. 

She’s directed into one of the large seats, finding it surprisingly cushiony. She feels like a child again, sitting in a chair that’s too big. She watches the creature’s back as it prepares food, Chloe finally questioning what, and if, she can even eat on the ship. His kind obviously ate, but what did they eat? 

It places a metal plate in front of her after a few moments with what looks like chunky mashed potatoes on it, but it smells sort of like a roasted vegetable. She’s reminded of the time she had tried to get into the cauliflower craze, attempting cauliflower mashed potatoes. They hadn’t turned out so great, and even this alien food looked more appetizing than that had. 

Chloe’s stomach cramps uncomfortably and she doesn’t hesitate to dig in, shoveling the strange food into her mouth. It tastes bitter to her, but she doesn’t care. She wasn’t in a position to be picky. It wasn’t like there was a grocery store or a McDonald’s they could pull over and order from. 

The creature sits across from her, watching her through its mask. She was still left with a lot of questions, starting to get curious about her alien...what would she call him? Captor? Abductor? Savior? Companion? She certainly didn’t feel they were on the terms of the latter. Captor seemed a bit too extreme. She obviously had free rein of the ship, and it hadn’t seemed mad that she escaped the room. It was feeding her so obviously it wanted her to live. Savior seemed a bit too gracious. It had taken her from Earth, after all. Abductor it was then. 

Before she knows it, her plate is empty. She feels full, her stomach protesting a bit at being fed so much at once. It had been a big helping, no doubt made for someone his size. He’s still sitting there, having not moved other than a slight twitch here or there. 

It isn’t until she’s finished and puts her utensil down that he finally moves, standing from the table. He motions at her again and she follows, slightly unnerved by the silence. He leads her back to the room, following her inside. She pauses at the edge of the bed, turning back to face him. He’s standing in the doorway, watching her again. She chews on her lip, crossing her arms over her chest again. 

“I...can I ask you a question?” She finally breaks the silence. 

It tilts its head to the side, and she takes that as permission. 

“I want to know...why you took me from Earth. I mean...you said that it was because the Bad Bloods knew who I was, but...I don’t know what that means.” 

He’s still for a moment, and she takes that as a sign that he’s pondering her question. 

It’s a few quiet moments before he moves, gripping her arm and steering her towards the bed. He sits down on the pelts, looking up at her. She follows his lead, sitting a few feet from him so she’s facing him. 

He begins to tell her everything, trying his best in broken English using his translator. It was using English from the little his clan had come in contact with and put in the database, and from the little it had picked up from her speaking. He tells her about his kind, their culture, society, the clans. He tells her about the Bad Bloods and his task to hunt down the ones she had the unfortunate pleasure to come in contact with. 

Chloe soaks it all in, trying to make sense of the strange alien culture. He hadn’t directly answered her question, but had at least made her a bit more relaxed. She knew now why the Bad Bloods were so dangerous, dangerous enough he had abducted her to keep her safe. That thought alone makes her stomach churn. She had openly fought one of them. It could have...would have killed her. 

“But...I still don’t understand...why you abducted me? I mean, yeah, I helped you, but...why me?” 

It regards her silently for a moment, a quiet trilling purr leaving its chest again. It leans forward slightly, getting closer to her. She freezes, staying still as it reaches out, clawed fingers stretching towards her face. She wants to flinch, wants to move, but she forces herself to stay still, watching clawed fingers capture a lock of her hair, running the strands lightly through its fingers. She closes her eyes as the backs of its claws brush against her cheek, her heart rate starting to pick up. 

She’d seen the damage he could do, the full force of his strength, yet his touch was nothing but gentle against her. He lets the strand slide through his fingers, moving his hand away before standing up. Chloe lets her eyes open, following him as he makes his way out of the room silently, her heart still racing. 

*******

Chloe wonders if he ever sleeps as she lays in his bed. She had fallen asleep not long after he’d left her, tired from a lengthy conversation with a copious amount of information. She’s warm again, too warm. The pelts are tucked up around her chin, heavy over her body. They weren’t an animal she recognized, not that she knew much about animal fur outside of domesticated animals. But it would make sense for them to be something entirely alien. 

Chloe goes to roll onto her back, but she doesn’t make it far, colliding with something solid behind her. She freezes, her body going rigid immediately. A low purr rumbles against her, the solid mass behind her shifting slightly. So that was her answer. He did sleep. 

She lays still, waiting for him to move, waiting for him to push her away, do something, but he doesn’t. He’s just as still as she is. She takes a few shallow breaths to calm herself, not wanting to disturb him. She wonders if he’s awake, doing the same thing, waiting for her to move. 

After a few tense moments of stillness, she decides she’ll be the first to move. She slowly wiggles forward, pulling herself away from him using the pelts. She doesn’t get very far before a hand grips the back of her tank top, claws scratching lightly against the skin of her back before she’s pulled the few inches back against the alien. He lets her go immediately, settling back down. Chloe lets out the breath she’s holding, letting her body relax again. 

Chloe slowly turns again, shifting until she’s facing him. He’s on his back, face pointed up at the ceiling. He’s still wearing his mask, giving her no sign of if he’s awake or asleep again. She takes this moment to study him up close, not having gotten a chance to do so before. She had been right about him being reptilian like, his scaled mottled skin colored in tones of dark green and almost black, lighter on his chest before getting darker along his arms and shoulders. She can see the clear lines of his muscle, stomach contracting with each breath. She draws her gaze higher up, sliding up his chest and over the strange armor covering one shoulder. She continues her journey, eyeing the strange dreadlocks coming from his head. She reaches a hesitant hand up, her fingers closing around the end of one. 

His hand shoots up, grabbing her own. She tenses, but his grip is light, pinning her hand against his shoulder. His skin is rough against her own, not unlike the alligator bag her mother owned. His face turns towards her, a deep purr sounding from his chest. It’s continuous rumbling against her hand. The dreadlock between her fingers is oddly rough and ridged, like it had been worn down by time. It reminds her a bit of rubber tubing, but slicker. 

The low purring continues as he moves her hand, her fingers releasing the dreadlock. He holds her hand up, studying it. It was small compared to his own, her entire hand, fingers and all, able to fit in his palm. She leans up on her elbow on the other arm, watching him. 

“Do you always wear the mask?” She asks, curiously breaking the silence. 

He shakes his head, releasing her hand. She brings her fingers to his mask, tracing the smooth metal with her fingers. 

“Why won’t you take it off around me?” He doesn’t give her an answer, his hands falling back to his sides. She sits up, crossing her legs beside him. “Come on, you can’t be that bad looking.” 

He stares at her through the mask for a few more moments before reaching up and undoing his mask. Chloe tries to keep her breathing steady, trying not to react as he reveals his face to her for the first time. 

Yeah, okay, maybe it could be that bad. 

It wasn’t that he was ugly; he was just...different. 

Alien. 

His eyes are bright yellow, staring at her with a permanent glare. He lacks a nose, his mouth holding sharp teeth not unlike fangs. His mouth is covered by mandibles, four of them that click together as he moves them. There are spikes lining his face where the dreadlocks sprout from his head. They’re not unlike hair, but they look sharper and coarser. She takes him in, unable to stop the uneasy feelings coursing through her. The fear. His was a face made to be feared. To invoke the need to run from him like a predator chasing prey. That was the feeling she felt around him. Like she was his prey, despite the fact he hadn’t made one remotely violent move towards her. 

The purring starts again, his mandibles twitching as he lifts his hand to her face, moving slowly as not to scare her. She stays still, letting him come closer. His hand could easily cover her face entirely, but she pushes that thought away as he runs a clawed fingertip over her lips. He moves his hand, his thumb and forefinger gripping her chin lightly. His free hand is in her hair again, claws parting the strands, pulling out tangles as he goes. 

She relaxes into his touch, a content sigh leaving her lips. It’s matched by a trilling purr, the alien letting his hands fall back to the pelts. Chloe opens her eyes, letting them fall on his face again. 

“I...I just realized...I don’t know your name.” 

“Tarei’hsan.” He answers her, her brain trying to formulate the name. 

“Tarei...hsan?” She tries to form her mouth around it, a frown marring her face. “I feel like you need a nickname.” She tilts her head, her hand coming to rest on his mesh covered stomach absentmindedly. She studies him for a moment. “How about...Tusk.” 

He lets out a trill, his mandibles clicking together. 

She takes that as a yes, smiling. “My name’s Chloe.” 

“Kh-loee.” He tries to pronounce it, making her giggle. 

“Maybe I need a nickname too.” 

He reaches up, tracing a claw down her arm. “Yeyinde.” 

Chloe smiles. “I hope that means something good.” 

His mandibles click again. “Brave.” 

Chloe’s cheeks heat up, bowing her head bashfully. “I’m not so sure about that.” 

His fingers are on her chin again, lifting her face so she’s looking up at him. He’s sitting up now, his gaze firm as he stares at her. “Brave.” 

************

It’s two days later by Tarei’hsan’s clock that the nightmares start. It’s the noises that draw him from his sleep. He had grown used to the sounds she’d make, the sighs, the occasional soft sounds from her throat. But this one was different. He thought someone had snuck on board, gotten into their room without him sensing it, and was attacking her. But his eyes find no one in his quick scan of the room. Her eyes are screwed shut, a frown pinching her face. Her hands are gripping the pelt thrown over her, a cry leaving her lips as she twitches in her sleep. 

He’s purring before he even realizes he’s doing it, reaching out towards her tense body. He touches her shoulder, shaking her gently. It takes a couple of tries before she starts awake, yanking herself from his grip. Her eyes are wide in the human expression of fear and he purrs louder at her to calm her. She takes two deep breaths before she calms, running her fingers through her hair. 

“Sorry. I...bad dream.” 

She pulls her knees to her chest, keeping her gaze lowered from him. He trills at her, reaching out a hand. She stares at it for a moment before slowly reaching forward, putting her hand in his. He pulls her forward and into his arms, holding her like females of his kind hold their pups. His kind weren’t known for being affectionate, weren’t known for being fond of prolonged touch. But he knew humans were. He knows by the way she relaxes in his hold, practically melting against his chest. He sits back, holding her against his chest, a quiet purr rumbling through them both. 

He knows she doesn’t go back to sleep. He knows he can’t either. He wasn’t a stranger to night terrors. He knew they were natural to humans, their own brains frightening them in their sleep. His kind didn’t dream, didn’t sleep like humans did. Humans were strange creatures, weak but cunning enough to beat some of the best Yautja warriors. Some clans thought them disgusting, pitiful creatures. Some considered them worthy opponents. But he had not heard of one going so far as he had. To save one, bring her aboard his ship and intend to take her back to his clan ship. She had proven herself worthy in his eyes, but his eyes did not matter. 

*********

Tarei’hsan had slowed the ship significantly. He could have been back to his clan ship in a matter of a couple days if he’d wanted to. But he didn’t. He knew what was waiting for him once he returned. Taking her aboard would be a risk. They could kill her whether they believed what he claimed. He didn’t want that to happen. He considered leaving his clan behind, flying to some distant planet on the far side of the galaxy and hiding there with her. But they would find him, eventually. That would consign both of them to certain death. 

He stares out at the space in front of him, his mandibles clicking as he thinks of what to do. He didn’t want to lose the strange little ooman that had caught his attention. But he also didn’t want to risk running either. He’s so lost in thought he almost doesn’t hear her approaching. It isn’t until she’s close enough to touch him that he whirls around in his seat, startling her. 

She takes half a step back, dropping the hand that had been outstretched at his movement. He lets out a quiet purr, letting his body relax. She lets out a breath, crossing her arms across her chest. 

“Yeyinde.”

“You didn’t come back for a bit. I just...wanted to check on you.”

He trills in response, reaching out for her again. He doesn’t move, letting him pull her onto his lap before he turns his chair again, letting her see out the front viewport. She leans back against him, legs spread over his own. He watches her for a moment before pulling his mask off, leaning down to let his mandibles tangle in her hair. She smelled good, clean. He had shown her the bathing room, letting her clean herself up. She smelled like soap, but he can also detect her natural scent beneath it. He feels his own body react to it, stomach clenching in response. 

Chloe’s nose tickles for a moment. She had been lost in thought, staring out at the hundreds of stars in front of them. Tusk had his mandibles in her hair again, something he’d taken to doing recently. She was okay with that, considering her hair was clean now. His body was moving slightly under hers, his muscles flexing as he presses closer to her hair. Something musky tickles her nose, reminding her a bit of a men’s locker room at a gym. Tusk’s arms wrap around her body, pulling her tighter against him. Any tighter and she’s worried he might crack something. 

“Tusk...” She says, her hands lifting to his arms where they’re holding onto her. “Any tighter and I won’t be able to breathe.” 

He doesn’t loosen his hold, his back bending slightly over her as his mandibles move down her hair, touching the skin of her face. She stays still, barely breathing as the sharp mandibles move along her skin, tracing along her jaw and neck. She holds back a shiver, goosebumps forming on her skin from the feeling. How easily he could kill her. One hard squeeze and he would pop a few internal organs, puncture something with a broken rib. One hard bite from his sharp teeth and she’d bleed out in a matter of minutes. 

The thought thrills her. 

She feels as if she’s lost her mind, biting back a moan as his mandibles trace over the sensitive skin of her neck. She can feel an uncomfortable wetness between starting between her legs. It had been a long time since anyone had touched her so intimately, since anyone had been so close to her. Since anyone had that effect on her. Tusk’s purrs deepen, her entire body seeming to vibrate with the sound. She tilts her head back, exposing herself to him, making herself vulnerable. He jerks against her, his sharp fang-like teeth scraping against the skin of her neck as his mandibles wrap nearly clear around her throat. His forked tongue is rough, almost like a cat’s, as it slides against her sweat slicked skin. She’s on fire, every nerve ending awake and firing as he touches her. 

She doesn’t know what had changed, what had brought on this frenzy in both of them. Maybe he had alluded to it in the very beginning. The increasing touches, the way he shamelessly slept next to her, the way he’d walked around after coming out of the bathing room in buck naked, forcing her to bury herself in the pelts in his bed out of embarrassment. Maybe it had been his plan all along in taking her, using her for his pleasure. But if that was the case, wouldn’t he have just done it? 

Her hand is on his before she can put much more thought into it, her brain buzzing as his tongue burns a trail down her neck and shoulder. He lets her direct him, moving his hand to the warmth between her legs. She’s horribly damp, soaking through the underwear and onto her thighs as she presses his much larger hand against her. His claws bite at her skin, but it just adds to the sensation, her hips bucking against his thick fingers as he explores her through her underwear. She doesn’t know what females of his kind are like anatomically speaking. She’s not even entirely sure what he’s like anatomically. She had ducked so fast under the pelts when he’d come out naked she hadn’t bothered to sneak a peak at him. 

He growls low, wrapping his hand around the waistband of her panties before yanking them off. She wants to protest, but he returns the rough pads of his fingers to her slit and all complaints are forgotten before they can leave her mouth. His thighs hold hers open, her hips lifting to press into his hand. She’s disadvantaged, unable to really see him, forced instead to look out at the inky darkness of space and the passing gas giant. The view really settles the reality of the current situation. She was getting off at the hands of an alien in a spaceship probably hundreds of light-years away from Earth. 

But the way his claws brush against her clit have the thoughts drifting from her mind. 

Sounds are leaving her mouth now, moans and whimpers that are like sweet music to his ears. He’s never heard anything like it, his kind unable to make such noises. He’s slick and hard, straining against his coverings as she writhes against him. He knows he has to be careful. Her kind weren’t entirely different from his, just distinguishingly smaller. He knew little about the human mating process but he had a plethora of experience mating his own kind. He’d sired enough pups to know he was well liked and even sought after by a few females. But none of them had affected him the way the tiny human in his arms was in this moment. 

She was tight. 

Careful of his claws, he attempts to work a finger into her slick passage, her walls gripping him tight like a vice. She’s panting where she’s limp against his chest, gripping his arm that’s still around her tightly. He lets out a trilling purr, working his finger into her. She opens up around it slowly, letting him slip more and more into her. If she was this tight around his finger, pauk what she would feel like around him. 

But he holds back. 

He was big. Not just in general compared to her. He was big in all areas. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, and so he could control himself. If she saw him and was afraid, he wouldn’t force himself on her. A good male could control himself enough around a female, prove to her he was worthy of taking her. Despite his length pressing uncomfortably against his coverings, he wouldn’t lose himself like a Young Blood around this ooman. 

He releases his hold around her middle, his hand trailing down the smooth skin of a trembling thigh. She arches away from him, her back bowing as he slips his finger in and out of her. 

“Tusk.” His nickname leaves her lips in a moan, her head falling back against his shoulder revealing more of her neck to him. If only she knew what it meant in his culture to leave herself so vulnerable to him in this moment. 

She reaches back, her hand tangling in his dreadlocks. He practically lets out a roar, his claws digging into her skin until she hisses, five red dots appearing on her skin. He freezes, pulling his claws out of her skin. He looks down, finding her staring up at him before a wicked smirk twists the corner of her lips upward. He doesn’t have time to consider the meaning before she wraps a hand around one of his dreadlocks, yanking hard enough to jerk his head to the side. 

He lets out a roar this time, all pretenses gone as he stands, holding her under his arm as he practically runs back to the room. He drops to his knees on the pelts, her body flopping from his grip onto her back on the furs. She’s spread open before him, the scent of her leaching into him, driving him wild. His body is still aflame from her touch in his locks, leaving all doubt in his mind behind. He undoes the straps, yanking off his coverings, leaving him bare and presenting in front of her for her approval. Chloe stares at him wide eyed, taking him in truly for the first time. 

Jesus, he’s huge. 

She tries to form words, taking in his familiar shape but entirely alien form. It was certainly phallic in nature, but the top of it flared out, ridges and bumps lining the sides. It was thicker at the base than at the top, making her wonder how in the hell it was all going to fit inside her. It had to be the length of her forearm easily. 

She stumbles over her words, trying to think of something, anything to say as he stays completely still, his length moving as he breathes. “O-Oh...” She sits up, cautiously reaching a hand out. 

He’s slick, almost like a natural lubrication. She’s grateful for that, not even sure that her excessive wetness would help him fit inside her. He lets out a breath as she touches him, the warmth of it fanning over her head. He’s warm in her hand, her fingers barely able to close all the way around it. She doesn’t have much experience in the realm of male anatomy. Not that it would help her in this situation. 

She looks up at his face, his yellow eyes burning into her. She moves her hand along his shaft experimentally, watching him. His mandibles move, clawed hands curling into fists as she touches him. She wonders what he tastes like, but she’s not sure she’s quite ready for that yet, still trying to mentally prepare herself for fitting him inside her. His finger had been big, but this was something else entirely. 

“Tusk...” She bites her lip, fingers teasing his head. 

His hips jerk as his hand cups her chin, lifting her face back up to him. “Yeyinde can...say...no.” 

Chloe feels tears well in her eyes despite the current situation. She was half naked in an alien spaceship with an equally half naked alien standing over her while she had her hand wrapped around its dick and he was telling her she could say no to him. Even as far gone as both of them obviously were, he was saying she could change her mind. That he would respect her. 

“I...Thank you. But...I...I want to.” She feels as if she seals her fate with those words. Not that she was complaining. 

He carefully slides out of her hand, moving so he’s laying down on his back. She doesn’t understand the importance of what he had just done, what he was doing for her in that moment. In normal Yautja mating, the female would fight to get the male to that position, a battle between the two of them with one of them coming out on top. By laying down for her, he was submitting to her, letting her know that she was in control. He could have easily dominated her, taken her from behind as most males did to females. But she wasn’t Yautja. She was ooman. It would not have been a fair fight. 

She seems to know what to do, straddling his thick waist with her thighs. She pulls her tank top off, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He reaches his hands up, claws brushing over her nipples. She shivers, biting her lip as she moves over him. She’s still wet, sliding the tip of him along her slit a couple times. He watches her, watches the tip of him disappear into her. 

He felt thicker than he looked, Chloe burning at the stretch of him. She presses her hands into his stomach, holding herself up as she goes centimeter by centimeter along his length. Despite both their natural lubricants, it’s still a tough stretch. She’s panting and shaking, his own breathing even and deep as he traces her nipple with his claws. Her own hand goes to her clit, circling it to help her ease up around him. 

He doesn’t move, letting her take as much of him as he can. He’s impressed by her, nearly his entire length disappearing into her before she stops, fluttering around him. He lets out a growl but doesn’t move, proving his self control by letting her call the shots. She slowly moves, the ridges along his dick rubbing against her in a way that has her legs shaking already. She knows she will not last long. It had been a long time since she’d had sex, or even orgasmed and she knows by the way he hit that spot inside of her this would be over before she knew it. 

Tarei’hsan watches the little ooman as she writhes on top of him. She’s tighter than he had imagined, squeezing him almost painfully. Every so often she’d flutter around him, making him growl in response. He felt like a Young Blood again, ready to lose control of himself already but he holds himself in check. But the way her back arches, pressing her breasts into his hands, the way she grinds against him is making controlling himself hard. He had been holding himself back, wanting to focus purely on the task he had been assigned and had forgone mating during their last mating season. And now he was breaking another law, mating with his tiny ooman. 

Something in his brain snaps as she cries out, body shaking as she tries to keep up her pace. He knows she’s getting tired, so he moves his hands down to her hips, moving her with his own strength. She lets him, gripping his wrists as he bounces her on his cock. His brain pictures her dripping with his seed, pumping her full of it. Seeing the tiny ooman swollen with his pup, breeding an entire army of them with her. 

He can’t help himself, thrusting up hard into her, a startled yelp leaving her as he sinks even deeper into her, his hips snapping up into hers. He’s lost all control of himself, her walls fluttering, gripping him tighter and tighter until she lets out a scream, nearly suffocating him with how tight she grips him. He matches her scream with a roar, nails digging into her waist, drawing blood as he spills into her, yanking her down before sinking his teeth into her shoulder. She jerks against him, yelping in pain, but he’s too lost to pay any mind to it in that moment. The tanginess of her blood hits his tongue, her body shaking against his as she squeezes around him once more. He’s pulsing hot inside her, twitching as he empties himself into her. 

He holds her there for a few moments, her body twitching against his chest still as he pulls himself away from her shoulder, laving over the wound with his tongue. Her eyes are closed as he moves her, rolling her onto her back, separating them. He gets up, going to the bathing room to grab a cloth to clean the blood and seed off of her. 

Her hand is between her legs when he returns, gathering some of his seed before bringing it close to her face. 

“Your cum is green too?” She asks, looking up at him. 

He huffs out a laugh, watching his seed drip out of her. It was less neon than his blood, but it was still shockingly green. He cleans the blood off her shoulder, grabbing his Medicomp and using gel to close the wounds on her shoulder and his claw marks on her hips before cleaning his seed from between her legs. She whimpers slightly as he touches her, no doubt she’ll be sore when she tries to move again. 

She watches him retreat back to the bathing room, taking him in fully. He certainly was a beautiful sight. An odd, but beautiful sight. 

He returns, stripping off the rest of his armor before laying down next to her. She curls up against him, resting her head against his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her, tracing her smooth skin. He was a goner now, having broken practically every sacred law in his clan against oomans. But he finds no regret. The soft body against his, the warm puffs of her breath against his skin as she drifts off to sleep. He would betray his clan for her. Fight every last Elder until they were all dead in order to keep her. Nothing would take her from him. 

The lights of the ship go on, disturbing their peaceful moment, an alarm blaring obnoxiously in warning. 

Part 2

[isei-bleeds]

sorry if this has been asked already but i saw predator 2018 and.. was fugitive actually part human or had he just gotten human dna injections like the bad blood predator

I am not a fan of the Predator 2018 movie. I think those of us who grew up on the classic Predator films felt betrayed by this movie because nothing about the Predator character felt ‘yautja’ as we had learned to know about them, socially and culturally. I understand there can be exceptions, because we wouldn’t be expanding on the entirety of humanity based on just western militia, and we shouldn’t do the same to the yautja based on just the Hunters that humans encounter. Hunters are just a fraction of the entirety of yautja civilization. But if you took out the Predators in that movie and replaced them with any other generic made alien/monster, the plotline wouldn’t have changed at all. There is no impact to the threat being a Predator, which is what the older movies emphasized on - this is NOT a being you charge at head-on, it requires tact and intelligence.

Jumping off of that tangent... He wasn’t part human, per se. He was part anything else they hunted much alike its antagonist counterpart. Long story short; the Predators were hunting around the galaxy and injecting themselves with DNA of their kills to genetically modify themselves. Part of that genetic splicing included human DNA. 

The antagonist, the Giant/Ultimate Predator, took it too far. Either he was experimented on by other yautja, or he took it upon himself to acquire more and more genetic modifications like a sports player addicted to steroids. Likely? A bit of both narratives.

However, while I can accept that yautja would take samples of what they hunted for study, if not acquire live species for the same, there is something that does not sit right with me (and many other fans) when it comes to the genetic splicing. It is very well established that yautja hunt to acquire ranks, glory, trophies, and mates. These are the personal milestones that a Hunter has acquired through training, determination, strength, and wit. They clearly have the superior technology to blast humans back to the stone age, but they do not USE them. Anyone can use a highly advanced blaster or technology to overwhelm unsuspecting prey, but where’s the sport in that? A true yautja proves themselves in the hunt and combat on even ground, with as much fair odds as they can manage. In THAT, there is glory - either in victory, or death. 

The idea of genetic modification feels “off” for a Predator narrative, especially for our hero Fugitive. 

[script-a-world]

When I'm writing a story fully set on alien worlds, is there a such thing as race as understand by humans? If a character appears 'white' or 'black' or 'asian' etc, it probably means nothing to aliens. But building these characters it seems inevitable someone will attach it to human races? Especially when professionals get these things filmed, the characters are looked at as representing their actor's race. How do I build so that the aliens represent aliens, not aliens that represent humans.

Tex: A very, very long history of film short - they have to be non-humanoid. Twi’leks from Star Wars have been pretty good at the “non-human” alien body types (Star Wars), for all their flaws in sexualizing the women. Xenomorphs from the Alien franchise are varying shades of horrifying by their non-human physiology, as are the Yautja from the Predator franchise.

The Alien Species Wiki has two starting points that might help you for building up different species: Sentience, and Sapience.

After playing around with those two concepts, it’s just a matter how how human-shaped you want them to be - there’s nothing restricting you from the number of limbs, what kind of limbs, and quantity and arrangement of organs. Generally, the more “alien” type of aliens are a type of horror, so it depends on how you want to present your species to your audience. Klingons were meant to be intimidating and foreign to humans, but their depiction in Star Trek challenged their audience’s initial perceptions.

Feral: So, I’m not entirely sure what you want to do with your alien species building. Are you specifically building species based on real world cultures? Are you building species that just so happen to share certain physical characteristics with humans, including things like different skin colors? Are you trying to have racism in your story but between aliens instead of human peoples? Let’s take it one by one.

Specifically building species based on real world cultures: This is the most basic first step in worldbuilding. Everyone does it. Why? Because the real world is the only world we have ever actually lived in. (Probably.) However, it’s also a route through a minefield. If you’re using cultures that are not your own, it’s very easy to get things very wrong and offend, or worse contribute to ongoing bigotry against, real people. What’s generally recommended is that you don’t wholesale base a fictional culture on a broad, generalized, stereotyped version of a real world culture. There are a couple ways to avoid this. A) Take several aspects of a few disparate (preferably geographically distanced) cultures, throw them in an inspiration blender, and pour into your brainstorming session. B) Take that one really specific thing you find cool about a real world culture or history and build out a different culture from it. Basically, what I’m saying is if you have an “Asian” alien race… reconsider.

Physical Characteristics that just so happen to match up: Tex went into a lot of detail about how best to avoid this, so I won’t add too much. But basically, nothing “just so happens” to be a certain way in a story because everything is decided upon by you the author. Why do your aliens have a certain skin color or hair color or nose or eye shape or any stereotypically “ethnic” feature? Even if an alien - a humanoid alien - is described as having black skin, I’m probably not jumping to “that alien must look exactly like a human of African descent” because in most cases there are going to be other physical characteristics that make me think “this is an alien and not at all a human.” You mention being concerned that an alien character will be perceived as being akin to a certain human race because of the actor playing them. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think of Gamora as being Afrolatina because Zoe Saldana plays her; I think of Gamora as being a Zen-Whoberis because that’s what kind of alien she is. However, if you are doing what I recommended against in point 1 and basing your alien race on stereotypes of a particular real world people, and then an individual of that group plays the alien character, what you fear will happen and it’s not great for you when it does. Google “Orcs Are Racist.”

Fantastic Racism: It’s a thing. And it’s not usually a well crafted thing. There are people who will tell you that it is impossible to actually do well or get right. And while people have a right to this opinion and I agree with them most of the time, I would guess that the Never-Evers are people who have never read Discworld. The thing about Fantastic Racism is that again it typically requires the thing I recommended against in point 1 (you’ll see it on TV Tropes as Space Jews). It also has the troubling tendency to draw parallels between real world oppressed minority groups and non-humans, which can have the effect of further dehumanizing them. There are also a lot of cases in which the Strawman Has a Point wherein the strawman is representing real world racist bigots.

Finally I want to add a post-script to one of Tex’s points: “Generally, the more “alien” type of aliens are a type of horror, so it depends on how you want to present your species to your audience.” How your non-humanoid aliens are perceived by your audience is also going to have a lot to do with how you write your story. How do you introduce them? What’s the tone of the story? What are the representative characters like? How are they perceived by the more humanoid (and thus easier to identify with for your human audience) characters?

The Heptapods of “Story of Your Life”/Arrival are pure horror movie design except they’re not. They’re called Abbott and Costello by the main characters; all their actions are in an attempt to peacefully communicate with humans. They’re mysterious but not threatening. (And actually kinda cute if you’re like me and think cephalopods are cute.)

In Young Wizards, a YA series by Star Trek EU author Diane Duane that is a brilliant blend sci fi and fantasy, there are aliens called the Rirhait, which are human-sized omnivorous (and I mean omnivorous) metal centipedes with multiple stalked eyes. Nightmare fuel? Nope. A major character on Team Good for the series is Sker’ret, and he is super darling.

[slasherhaven]

What about billy, michael and Brahms (and whoever else you’d like to do) with an s/o that’s also a killer?

The Slashers with a S/O who is also a killer

Thomas Hewitt

Judging would be hypocritical but...really...you? Thomas can’t judge you for what you do, he done things just as bad. He just couldn’t believe that you had done these things but you have...he doesn’t know how to feel. But in the end, he loves you more than anything. If you can love him despite the things his family do, he can definitely love you even with this new information. You’re still you.

More willing to let you help. Now that he knows about all of this, he doesn’t feel the need to shelter you from the morbidity of the family as much (he is still very protective of you, though). If you want to help out with that side of the ‘chores’, then he is more likely to allow it. That doesn’t stop him from worrying though.

Michael Myers

Okay. Why does he not react to anything?! Okay, there is a chance he already knew. This man can be quite the stalker when he wants to be, so he might have already found out. Either way, he’s not going to judge you for this, I mean...look at him. However, the first time he found out, he was actually surprised, he’s just good at not showing it. But he is also curious.

He likes to work alone...but he can make an exception. Michael likes working alone, he doesn’t want to have somebody tag along. However, he is curious as to how you would behave, how the two of you would work together, he wanted to watch and have some of that curiosity satisfied. So, maybe the two of you team up for a night or two before going back to your individual work.

Jason Voorhees 

You? There’s no way. Jason doesn’t even believe it at first. You’re so sweet and gentle and kind, there’s no way you’re a killer...right? He just sees you as his sweet S/O, the only person who has shown him any love or kindness. So, you can understand why it’s difficult for him to picture.

Worries about you. Not in a hypocritical way, it’s just dangerous work. Jason worries about you enough even before this information so now that he knows you put yourself in dangerous situations purposely, he frets even more. If you start working with him on dealing with intruders at the camp, he will worry about you no matter how capable you prove yourself to be.

Brahms Heelshire 

Hypocritical little bastard. As if he has any room to judge you for what you do. You know his history, about the nannies that came before you and how he had to deal with them when they didn’t accept him. You knew all of that, he had opened up to you about it, that’s why you told him the truth as well. He just needs some time to process this and remember that you’re still you.

As long as you’re still caring for him. He decides that as long as nothing between you both changes, he’s fine with it. As along as you continue to love him and care for him, he doesn’t care about all of that.

Bo Sinclair 

Doesn’t believe you. Straight up laughs in your face, shaking his head at you. Yeah, that was a good joke. No matter what you say, he thinks you’re just messing with him. He doesn’t think you could do it, he’s underestimating you.

Well, fucking hell, okay then. That’s pretty much his response when you prove it to him. Either showing him evidence of past kills or just straight up killing somebody in front of him. You weren’t joking, he gets it...and is almost impressed. Well, looks like you’re going to be doing a lot more to pull your weight around here.

Vincent Sinclair

He...doesn’t like the idea. The thought of you killing somebody doesn’t sit right with him but he’s also aware that he has no room to judge. He doesn’t like the idea of you hurting somebody or of you accidently getting hurt in the process. He’s more worried about it all than anything else.

He comes around to it. He just needs some time to process and accept it. In the mean time, just remind him that it doesn’t change anything between the two of you. Continue to show him love and prove that you’re still who he thought you were, he’ll eventually relax about the whole thing. Just please don’t get hurt.

Lester Sinclair

Honestly, it makes him a little nervous. He knows that you’re not going to hurt him, it’s not that, he actually trusts you with his life. It’s a natural reaction to finding out your S/O is a killer, but he won’t judge. I mean, how can he. While he doesn’t usually play a direct part in the killings, both of his brothers are killers. So, he can’t be too put off by you being one too.

At least you’ll fit in here, eh? This newfound information actually makes him think that you’re less likely to leave Ambrose (and, in addition, him) because the things that happen in this town aren’t too difficult for you to accept and get used too. He worries less about you seeing the dark side of the town. He can see how this could be a positive thing in a strange way.

Bubba Sawyer

Confusion and disbelief. He just can’t believe the person he loves so much and who shows him so much tender affection could be a killer. But you tell him that you feel the same about him. He’s so sweet and kind but he’s killed people before. Well, maybe it’s not so bad then!

Well, he can’t judge! Killing is pretty normal to him and, while he doesn’t you to get hurt or put yourself in harms way, he can’t judge. This just means that you are like the rest of the family, so that’s fine! And now you can help them deal with intruders if you’d like, he’ll just be watching so that you don’t get hurt. He worries too much about you sometimes.

Billy Lenz

Is actually very torn about it. I mean, how are you supposed to react when you find out your S/O is a killer, especially when you’re one too. He’s not judgemental because he’s in the same boat as you, but he just struggles to process that you have done stuff like that when you’ve only ever been kind and accepting of him.

As long as you’re nice to him, he doesn’t care. If this changes nothing between you both, he accepts you for who you are because you’ve done the same for him. He also gets this feeling of relief because you must understand him. You wouldn’t judge him, you’d understand and still be there for him. And that’s all he wants from you.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Does his research. As soon as he finds out, he wants to know everything. Whether you simply tell him everything, from your first kill to where you are today, or he has to do some extra research on your kills. He wants to know how you do it and why you do it. What can he say? It’s an interesting subject. Plus, it helps him better understand you and learn more about you.

Mutual curiosity. Just as he’s curious about your kills, you’re interested with his. If he hasn’t already taken you to the hotel, he will. Maybe you could learn a thing or two from each other, maybe even help each other out. Either way, this is certainly interesting to him.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) 

Probably how you met. It’s likely that he caught wind of your kills and became interested. Of course, he had to investigate and learn more about this mysterious killer, only to find you. You’re just lucky that he developed an interest in you rather than wanting to eliminate any competition.

Partnering up. He just thought teaming up with you for a kill or two could be interesting, just a little bit of fun but the two of you enjoyed it more than either of you expected, so it became a regular thing. Eventually, it became official. You are quite the team...

Otis Driftwood

Tell him everything. He wants to know everything, every little detail. Just tell him everything. No details are too gory for him. In fact, he wants to know the gory details. He just wants to know it all and he will listen intently the whole time.

Otis likes having a partner more than he thought he would. When he found out that you’re a killer, the first thing he wanted to do was kill somebody with you. And he enjoys it even more than he thought it would. He likes terrorising people, whether it be on his own or with somebody else, but none of it compares to doing it with you. This is definitely going to become a regular thing. Side note: it shouldn’t be surprising that this all gets him going.

Baby Firefly

What a power couple! As soon as she finds out, all she wants to do is cause chaos with you and kill somebody with you. She truly believes that the two of you are unstoppable. And even if you’re not, the two of you are about to have a lot of fun together!

Just fucked up people doing fucked up shit. The two of you are definitely bad influences on each other. The fact that you kill anyone at all only encourages her to do it more because of how fun she finds doing it with you. And she just makes you all the more chaotic.

Yautja (Predator)

Not quick to judge at all. Killing is a perfectly normal thing in their culture, well maybe not just killing each other but hunting is normal and encouraged. So he’s accepting of it.

Teaches you their honour code. Honour is extremely important to the Yautja. If you’re killing innocent humans, that’s a problem. They aren’t worthy kills, they’re easy. Preferably you would aim higher, killing an opponent who is a challenge is worthy. Or you would kill people who ‘deserve’ it, that doesn’t exactly bring you honour if they were an easy target but you wouldn’t loose any either. He’ll pretty much train you if you’re okay with that.

[monsters-and-villains]

Saving Askara by J.M. Link

Victoria’s day starts out like any other aboard the transorbital ship, Phoenix. Such is the life of an emergency medicine specialist in the age of “post-discovery”. Sure, she had always dreamed of interacting with intelligent extraterrestrial life- the real thing, not those microbes on distant moons. Who wouldn’t? She was still happy with her career, however mundane and demanding it might be. That’s what it took to run a ship the size of a small city smoothly. Monotony. But all that changes one morning, and suddenly she’s not so sure she didn’t stick her foot in it… 

Be careful what you wish for. 

***  Escape had been their only drive, and even death was preferable to the alternative. But they never thought their flight for freedom would put them in an uncharted system. Forced to interact with an isolated world and its inferior, albeit curious people. When it affords them an unforseen and unprecedented opportunity to take back their world from those who seek to destroy them, however, Aderus begins to wonder if it wasn’t fate. Earth’s proposal is shocking and uncomfortable for a fierce, independent race that relishes in their solitude. But the more he learns of humans, the more he comes to admire and respect them. One, in particular.  *WARNING* Not intended for readers under 18.  Contains explicit sexual content.

Attention Monsterfuckers

This is a good one.

The novel introduces a group of (all male) aliens who managed to escape a prison. They are at war with another race and their main goal is to free their females who are still imprisoned. Seeking help they contact earth.

Ok, let’s get my only point of critique out of the way before I start gushing: The plot explains some things a little too conveniently. For example the way the heroine remains practically the only liaison between the aliens and the humans requires some suspending of disbelief. But this is nitpicking when applied to a book about highly fuckable aliens. ;)

Now the gushing:

The aliens in this book are not just humans with different skin color and some fun accessories like a spare dick but truly alien in appearance. They reminded me of the Yautja from Predator with only their mouths being not quite so extreme. Coming from a violent but advanced society their rules and behaviors are quite different from human norms. Also their females are described as stronger and even more violent than the males. Only the strongest get to mate…

The protagonists Victoria and Aderus experience neither instalust nor, god forbid, instalove. Instead they slowly get to know and become strangely fascinated by each other. Lots of talking, confusion, awkwardness and cultural misunderstandings ensue. It’s adorable. 

Victoria is the first who realizes that she’s sexually attracted to Aderus and she definitely acts upon it. To ascertain her dominance and therefore desirableness she even manages to knock him out (by surprise) in front of an audience. Poor Aderus doesn’t know if he should be angry, embarrassed or horny.

Saving Askara is a wonderful character driven slow burn romance with an emotionally satisfying pay off. Nothing is rushed, everything happens at the right time. When they finally have sex it’s hot and sexy but also awkward, a little bit frightening and confusing which keeps their first time from being unrealistic (as far as alien fucking goes) and makes it even more intense.

Oh, and the best thing? Saving Askara seems to be the first in a series. :)

[politesociopathicnerd]

Hanging with the drelts

You guys seemed to enjoy my last humans are weird post so I thought I would do another one, obviously continuing with the mighty drelts (or rather yautja rip-offs) and their newfound deathworlder friends. 

Chief Way’kon clicked his mandibles absently as the human, “Pam” as she insisted on being called, chatted away about human culture and how eerily similar his kind were to these “predators” . He didn’t know much about them but from what Pam was telling him they were damn strong, and not real which was a major tease in his opinion. Pam held up a small flat object in front of him and before he could ask what it was he heard her say cheese, before he could ask what the hell chees was the device clicked and flashed in his face. Way’kon blinked and let out a growl of confusion and slight anger at the strange device the human was holding in her hand. The light on it was surprisingly jarring and the clicking sound was reminiscent of the sound a dart launcher makes just before it fires. 

Way’kon: *thinking to himself* Relax Way’kon, the human isn’t trying to assassinate you, much less in your common room surrounded by your comrades.

Pam: Are you ok Chief? You look a little spooked.

Way’kon: The device in your hand, the one you just aimed at my face, what is its purpose?

Pam: Oh, it’s my camera, I use it to take pictures of stuff I like and I put it online when I get back to Earth, why.

Way’kon: The sound your camera makes is all too similar to the sound of a dart launcher preparing to fire.

Pam: Dart launcher?

Way’kon: Yes I will show you one later.

Pam: *squee*

Way’kon: Hmph, You humans a heralded as fearsome deathworlders yet you are easily fascinated by technology that you already have on your home world when another being has something similar. I’ll never understand this.

Pam: Wait a sec, my camera sounds like that to you?

Way’kon: Yes, I recommend against using it until I can inform everyone that it isn’t a weapon.

Pam: ...Did I scare you?

Way’kon: I am a drelt chieftain, I have served in multiple wars and the skull of one of the most feared daemons on the galaxy is mounted on the wall above the very throne I’m currently sitting on. I fear nothing.

Pam: I caught you, you pansy.

Way’kon: Hmph.

Xax: Did she just make fun of a drelt… a drelt chief no less...does she have somekind of deathwish?

*Later with Ken and his female drelt friend who he recently learned is named Tra’lee*

Tra’lee: I’m so sorry Ken. When I heard the sound I panicked and lashed out.

Ken: It’ s cool, I shouldn’t have just held up a phone to your face without explaining what I was doing. Damn, you hit like a sledgehammer.

Tra’lee: Are you sure your okay?

Ken: I’ll live, don’t worry. I'm a bit more sturdy than I look.

Tra’lee: Are you certain?

Ken: I’m fine. Hey, wanna see some of the pics on my phone seeing as my face is okay?

Tra’lee: Pics?

Ken: Pictures, here have a look.

[crazydiscostu]

We all know the franchises. We all know what they’re capable of and we’ve had strong opinions on them both over the years (and their varying degrees of quality). The easter egg from 1990’s Predator 2 (when Danny Glover spied a Xenomorph skull on the predator ship) sent nerds everywhere into a speculative seizure. In a straight-up fight – who would win?? 

In the Year 2004 some genius decided to put them both together and find out…….

(Spoilers all up in your face!)

The result was an action film that should have changed the face of Science Fiction Horror. Hot on the heels of Freddie Vs Jason, AVP (Alien vs Predator)’s premise is simple enough : the Weyland Corporation has detected a heat source below the Antarctic ice. And it’s pyramid-shaped! Charles Bishop Weyland assembles a host of experts and mercenaries to investigate what could be the most significant ruins ever found. What they find there is a lot of dry ice machines and bad computer graphics. Little do they know that an Alien queen resides in the depths of that pyramid and 3 Yautja are on their way there to hunt Xenomorphs. “Whoever wins… We lose.”

There’s a lovely feeling of fuzzy 80’s nostalgia when we see the Weyland Corporation at the beginning of the film. It’s also a feeling of hope. This film has the potential to change cinema. 

Fifteen minutes into the film and they’ve already set up the dynamic and strong female lead Alexa (Sanaa Lathana, Blade’s mum) as an arctic guide with integrity and a charity to support, the expert Italian beefcake Sebastian (Raoul Bova) and the goofy sidekick Graeme (Ewan Bremner, Spud from Trainspotting) whose imminent death is telegraphed every time he mentions his kids or family back home.

Alexa

Chibbs

Budget Vasquez

The film also features Sands (Limitless, series), Chibs (Sons of Anarchy), Coach Wolf Stansson (D2, Mighty Ducks) and a character i can only refer to as Budget Vasquez. The choice to cast Lance Henriksen (the actor who played Bishop in Aliens) as Weyland is a nice touch as it ties back to that franchise. A move that is ultimately useless as this film is not canon to either franchise. Thinking now about Weyland’s character and his place within this story makes me think about a Walt Disney. Thousands of years from now when Disney literally own the air we breathe there might be a look-a-like Android trying to fight off aliens…..

From an editing/pacing standpoint, scenes are inserted in paint-by-numbers fashion. There is a briefing scene (which was later ripped off in 2012’s Prometheus). A mobilisation scene with a speech and a lot of people shouting “DO THE THING!”, “LETS GET MOVING!” and “GO GO GO!” for no reason. It’s got the bonding scene between 3 of the main characters. 

It’s easy to get lost in the background of this film, especially the lines thrown in under the radar. (For instance when the team stops before the whaling station the dialogue runs ambiguously : “Hold it guys ! Shut it down ! Keep those engines running!” 

Spud does an excellent job of derping his way through every scene while Alexa and Beefcake swan off to ram the exposition down the audiences throat, with Beefcake being a Mary-Sue when it comes to the history of cultures, hunting, aliens, hieroglyphics, astronomy/astrology, language…. Everyone in this film is an expert on every subject including Budget Vasquez (who only gets a mouthful of words throughout the whole movie) and the guy who looks like he’s a stunt double for James Spader in Stargate.

And that exposition is chewy. Plot progression is delivered about as subtly as Miley Cyrus riding a wrecking ball. When a red shirt says “A storm is coming” then you better believe that information will be important. 

And that is one of the biggest tells regarding this film : The characters. I’ve neglected to call Alexa the protagonist because that implies she would’ve had some depth or interaction with the plot when in fact we learn more about Weyland throughout this story. Alexa is as robotic as her Amazon namesake. But not in the performance – there was no effort to write the character in any other way. The same with every character in the film. No depth. Nothing for the audience to actually care about. Their deaths are literally meaningless and they are nothing but cardboard cut-outs to be knocked over.  

This wouldn’t be so bad if the film was self-aware and played up to it. Ideally if there was a red-shirt standing somewhere in the back of the room saying “do you really think you should be touching that? Seriously dude, what the fuck?”

Inconsistencies are running wild throughout the feature, not only with established rules of previous canon (Dont get me started when it comes to alien gestation periods), the passage of time, perspective and the films own dictated information. For instance Alexa was assigned the task of getting the team from the boat to the pyramid and then is suddenly in charge of the expedition. 

Visually the CGI and practical effects are inconsistent in quality. The Predators are built like linebackers and the Xenomorphs are built like rubber. The moments of CGI lend nothing to the fight scenes and only highlight the absurdity of the costumes (Not to mention the Wilhelm-esque whip sound FX during one of the major fight scenes). The exception to this being the alien queen which looks stunning. They promptly undo that positive point with questionable miniature work during the egg laying sequence. 

The ending lets this film down the most. The whole ‘Adventures of Human and Yautja’ angle is just. too. much. and at one point I honestly thought they were going to kiss. And then we’re teased with sequel-bait in the form of the Predalien. 

The comics. The novels. This film craps on all of it! The only truly enjoyable section of the film is when Beefcake is expertly mansplaining the history of the Yautja and we get to see thousands of Xenomorphs swarm a hunter. Or the very subtle nod to five-finger fillet that Weyland performs with a pen.

AVP is disappointing. The concept is fantastic but it was flawed in its inception. It’s all build up with no payoff. Certain elements of the comic translated to screen but obviously barely survived the rewrites despite it being based primarily on the novel.

PG13 was not the way to go with this one guys. Thank goodness Robocop vs Terminator is still pure. Next time lose the Face-Hugger bullet time.

https://crazydiscostu.wordpress.com/

        Alien Vs Predator (Film Review) We all know the franchises. We all know what they're capable of and we've had strong opinions on them both over the years (and their varying degrees of quality).