#poncho predator

[saritamanyalu]

My favorite boys from Predator 1987 in Blackline Universe Dutch, Poncho, Hawkins, Dutch (c) Predator 1987

[sepublic]

Continuing my ramblings on Predator (1987), there's an interesting choice of cinematography when the protagonists start fighting back against their titular antagonist; Once Anna explains the Predator's schtick as a chameleon, our heroes begin making new traps meant to fool the Predator. And as they do, there's some pretty choice shots emphasizing the bulging muscles of characters like Dillon and the like. Dillon is interesting especially given he's framed as the least masculine of the guys due to being a dishonest pencil-pusher; Here, it seems as if everyone, even Dillon, is reclaiming their masculinity with this chance to fight back. With this chance to turn back the odds and restore their conventional status as action heroes.....

And then we know how it all goes down; The Predator breaks free of the trap, and kills its last four victims of the film to leave only Dutch and Anna. The Predator as a dark reflection of the characters' machismo makes more sense when you consider how he can mimic the voices of the others, and the wound that puts him down is identical to that of his final victim Poncho; Both are felled by a log trap.

From the perspective of the Predator, other characters' voices become noticeable high-pitched; I wonder if this is, in a way, meant to show how even a badass like Dutch is emasculated in the eyes of the Yautja. The line between Predator and the protagonists is further blurred when Dutch achieves his own form of cloaking that is also sabotaged when he comes into contact with water; He learns to fight more like the Predator, relying on stealth, ambush, and the environment around him to hide and attack. So now the Predator becomes the hunted too. Its final words are to repeat Dutch's only lines back at him before laughing in Billy's hearty voice.

You know that one post circulating around here, where people joke about what if the Predator was more the exception to his home's culture, rather than the norm? What if he was the Yautja equivalent to bored middle-class dudes who decide to go on a hunting trip for fun, to collect trophies from lions and other animals that are otherwise harmless and victimized, to flex how 'badass' he is? And meanwhile everyone else back home is rolling their eyes because what a loser. What if that's really just what the Predator is meant to symbolize, in the context of the original film at least; People who like to kill and hunt to show off how masculine they are.

But in the end, it's quite easy and cowardly, arguably, to rely on a cloaking device, whilst sniping oblivious targets from afar. Beforehand, I wonder if we could take into account how animals are treated by the human protagonists beforehand; One of the characters kicking a bird aside, Mac stabbing a scorpion. Them flexing their macho attitudes by killing an animal that for all intents and purposes is pretty helpless against the one who gets it. And then the roles are reversed where the human protagonists become the game for the Predator to make trophies out of.

I find it fascinating Dutch's reaction when Mac admits that Blain was his friend; You get the sense that this is quite uncharacteristic a thing for Mac to do. Nowadays it seems like a pretty obvious and understandable thing for any guy to do, but for someone like Mac, it IS quite the confession of emotional vulnerability here. Plus there's Poncho being a sad sopping wet cat for the rest of the film, once Hawkins is the first to die.

If Predator is a slasher film, then it subscribes to its own version of the rules, just as it has its own version of a 'final girl' in muscled badass Dutch, played by Arnold Schwarzenegger. You know how those who have premarital sex die first? It seems Predator operates on similar rules; Hawkins makes crude jokes about female genitalia and is killed first. Blain calls everyone else the f-slur and proclaims his own sexual prowess, in addition to being your typical badass macho man who's too tough to feel pain, and then he's unceremoniously killed off pretty early too. This is despite, or rather because of, being the "big guy" who wields a giant mini-gun.

Mac and Billy are stoic, but Mac unravels psychologically and sings lyrics about objectifying a woman shortly before his death, and Billy remains rattled throughout by the Predator's presence, even openly admitting to Poncho that he's afraid. And of course there's Poncho, who is on the verge of tears 24/7 once the movie's genre shifts, voice constantly wavering.

On a final note, one could be half-joking about homoerotic undertones between Mac and Blain, at least on Mac’s end. Which could be an interesting discussion in and of itself when you also account for Blain’s use of the f-slur and how he’s the most stereotypically masculine of the group. Because I know the military is known for being a place where homosexuality was often discovered and explored. How would that factor into the larger themes of masculinity in this film, I wonder?

[as4nkahe4rtbl33ds]

Hyperfixation is kicking my behind!!

Having stopped thinking about these three, I’ve loved the movie and franchise since childhood and I wish we saw more of them. Or their backstory.

[cxpperhead]

Stolen from @ratwhsprs! (♡)

Archived template can be found here [X]

[brewed-addiction]

doodled them when they're still small little cuties and cried as soon as its done 😭😭 i love them so much hngngngn,,,

also designed Ce'yta's brothers!

no colours yet tho, maybe someday x'(

[wyzeowl-jubylee]

Finished!!

Image Descriptions:

The line art and colored versions of a comic page of a woman with long hair and a trailing toga floats in the sky , smiling victoriously. She looks down at an adventuring party of 5 below her. Wind billows out from her. The left sleeve of one of the party members is in tatters and his arm is now only a skeleton. They look up at her with expressions of shock, pain, and fear, except for the Leshy (tree being) whose permanent smile regains fixed to its face. Then they notice the floor beneath them begin to crack before thick black liquid bursts out of it. They run, trying to escape it, then trying to keep their heads above the surface, until the entire panel is filled with black. There is no text.

(Fun details in the notes below)

[00valentina-writes00]

Just a lil thought I had-

(NSFW) Sevika sitting on your face 🫡

“You want me to do what?” Sevika’s voice was sharp, cutting through the dimly lit room like a blade. Her grey eyes, faintly glowing with the shimmer in her veins, pinned you in place as she leaned back against the worn couch, one leg propped up on the coffee table. The faint hum of Zaun’s undercity buzzed through the cracked windows, but it couldn’t drown out the tension between you.

“I said,” you smirked, leaning forward, your elbows resting on your knees as you met her gaze head-on, “sit on my face.”

Sevika barked out a laugh, rough and unapologetic, her lips curling into a grin that showed off her lip piercing. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? You think I’m just gonna—” She gestured vaguely at herself, her copper prosthetic hand catching the light, its shimmer-enhanced surface glinting dangerously— “climb on top of you like some delicate little flower?”

“Delicate?” You raised an eyebrow, letting your gaze rake over her towering frame, the muscles of her arms and thighs clearly visible even under her utilitarian clothing. “Not the word I’d use for you, Sevika. But yeah, I’m serious. Why not?”

She snorted, shaking her head, the red poncho draped over her shoulders shifting slightly with the motion. “Why not? Because it’s fucking ridiculous, that’s why. And unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary?” You leaned closer, your voice dropping to a low, teasing purr. “Or are you just scared I might actually make you lose control for once?”

Her eyes narrowed, the faint shimmer in them flaring ever so slightly. “Careful, sweetheart,” she growled, leaning forward now too, her face inches from yours. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. Not unless you’re ready to back it up.”

---

It had started earlier that evening, when you’d found her brooding by the bar in the Last Drop, her usual haunt. Silco’s empire wasn’t kind to anyone, least of all his lieutenant. The weight of her responsibilities—and the scars of her past—hung heavy on her shoulders, though she’d never admit it. You’d slid into the seat beside her, ordered her favorite drink without asking, and waited.

It took a while—it always did with Sevika—but eventually, she’d tilted her head toward you, her expression softening just enough to let you know she was listening. “Long day?” you’d asked, sipping your own drink casually.

“Every day’s a long day down here,” she’d muttered, taking a swig from her glass. Her prosthetic arm rested on the bar, fingers drumming idly against the wood. “What do you want?”

“Can’t a girl just check in on her girlfriend?” you’d teased, bumping her shoulder lightly.

“Cut the crap,” she’d said, but there was no real bite to it this time. Just exhaustion. “You’re here for something. Spit it out.”

So you had. You’d told her you wanted to take her home, away from the noise and the chaos, if only for a little while. To remind her that she didn’t have to carry everything alone. That night, after some stubborn resistance, she’d finally relented.

---

Now, here you were, in the small apartment she kept tucked away in the lower levels of Zaun, far from prying eyes. The air between you crackled with tension, the kind that came from weeks of stolen glances and hurried touches in shadowed corners. You’d been dancing around this moment for what felt like forever, and tonight, you weren’t going to let her brush you off again.

“Back it up, huh?” You smiled, slow and deliberate, as you stood up, closing the distance between you and the couch where she sat. “Alright, then. Let’s see if you can handle it.”

Sevika watched you warily, her body coiled tight like a predator ready to strike. But there was something else in her eyes too—something darker, hotter. Curiosity, maybe. Or desire. Either way, she didn’t stop you as you climbed onto the couch, straddling her lap with your knees planted firmly on either side of her hips.

Your hands found her shoulders, gripping the fabric of her poncho before sliding it off her frame. She didn’t fight you, though her jaw tightened as you tossed it aside, leaving her in just her sleeveless top and cargo pants. Her muscular arms flexed instinctively as your fingers traced the scars that crisscrossed her skin, each one a story of survival, of battles fought and won.

“You’re not as scary as you think you are, you know,” you murmured, leaning in until your lips brushed against hers. She didn’t kiss you back—not yet—but her breath hitched, just barely, and her hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

“And you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” she shot back, though the edge in her voice was softer now, almost playful.

You laughed softly, pressing another kiss to her lips, this time lingering. “Maybe. But you’re still here.”

For a moment, she just stared at you, her grey eyes searching yours as if trying to unravel some hidden truth. Then, without warning, she surged forward, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss that left no room for doubt. Her tongue swept against yours, demanding and possessive, and you groaned into her, your hands tangling in her cropped hair.

When she finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her breathing ragged. “Fine,” she growled, her voice low and rough. “But if you so much as think about laughing, I’ll break your fucking nose.”

Before you could respond, she shifted beneath you, her strong hands guiding you backward until you were lying flat on the couch. She made quick work at getting her pants off, along with the boy shorts she wore underneath.

She hovered over you for a moment, her eyes locked onto yours, before giving you a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. Then, slowly, deliberately, she lowered herself onto your face.

The first thing you noticed was the weight of her—solid, grounding, real. Her thighs pressed against the sides of your head, trapping you in the best possible way. The second thing you noticed was the heat radiating from her, seeping into your skin and filling your senses. But the third—the third was the scent of her, musky and unmistakable, driving every coherent thought from your mind.

You didn’t waste any time. Your hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as your tongue found her. She let out a sharp gasp, her body tensing above you, but you didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. The taste of her was intoxicating, and you chased it hungrily, your tongue working in long, slow strokes that made her shudder.

“Fuck,” she breathed, her voice trembling in a way you’d never heard before. Her hands tangled in your hair, tugging hard enough to sting, but it only spurred you on. You sucked gently at her clit, earning another groan, and then flicked your tongue faster, harder, until her thighs were clenched around your head and her breaths were coming in short, ragged gasps.

“You—” she choked out, her grip on your hair tightening— “you’re not half bad at this.”

You grinned against her, reveling in the way her hips rocked against your mouth, seeking more. More pressure, more friction, more everything. And you gave it to her, your tongue working in tandem with the rhythm of her movements until she was practically grinding against your face, her moans growing louder, more desperate.

“That’s it,” you murmured, pulling back just long enough to speak before diving back in. “Let go, Sevika. I’ve got you.”

For a moment, she hesitated, her body stilling above you. But then, with a growl that was equal parts frustration and surrender, she let herself fall completely into the sensation. Her hips moved with abandon now, her pleasure building with every stroke of your tongue, every brush of your lips. And when she finally came, it was with a cry that echoed through the room, her body trembling as she rode out the waves of ecstasy.

As she slumped bonelessly against the couch, her chest heaving and her face flushed, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. “Told you,” you said, your voice muffled but smug, “you’d like it.”

Sevika glared at you, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the dazed look in her eyes and the sweat beading on her brow. “Shut up,” she muttered, though there was no real anger behind it. “You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass for that.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow, grinning up at her. “Is that a challenge?”

[purple-umbrella-girl]

Highly preferred this story to watching him die.

Ok ok last one.

Poncho x medic reader who helps the team along but ends up getting herself hurt instead of him. And he realizes just how much she means to him

I hope you like this!😊💛

You Saved My Ass.

Poncho x reader

Warnings: death, injury, blood, swearing, spoilers

Masterlist

Poncho hates this more than anything he's ever had to do, this waiting with bated breath in amongst the shrubbery, the perpetually terrified air hanging around the usually fearless group souring his resolve. It is unnatural to him, to them all, the now decreased team unused to feeling entirely helpless, though they all know there is no way of changing this to their advantage at all, the situation being completely unforeseeable, even with hindsight. Cowering in the bushes just isn't their thing, it never has been, and, if they get through this, it never will be again. But he knows now that it is necessary; after all, he doesn't want to end up like Blain or Hawkins. At the reminder, he subtly crosses himself again, still torn over the sights of Blain's mangled body, and the remaining pile of gore from Hawkins.

Beside him, (Y/n) adjusts herself, clutching at her bag of supplies, the medic unarmed for ease of movement, though Poncho feels even worse about this than he does about hiding in the trees, fearing for his life. She has good aim, and she can defend herself, so without the weapon she is vulnerable, an asset he'd rather not lose, not now, not ever. The boys all teased him for having a soft spot for her, but he'd always shaken them off, chalking it up to the fact that his and her personalities seemed to match particularly well. Unfortunately, even after telling himself this for hours on end, he'd found himself clenching his jaw as he watched her patch Blain's arm up, back at the guerrilla settlement, somehow becoming irritable as he eyed her careful movements and teasing conversation with the muscular man. Of course, she'd given the others a once-over, including him, but something about that particular interaction had put him on edge. He knew Dutch had noticed, but the major had been too irritated himself to say anything, though this was more aimed at Dillon rather than (Y/n).

"What's he doing?!" The medic suddenly hisses, keeping her voice low as she stares out at the clearing where the trap has been set up.

"Huh?" Poncho blurts out quickly, before realising what she means.

Dutch has stepped out of cover and into full view, heavy gun held firmly in hand, muscles bulging as he tenses them, clearly nervous despite his bold move. The rest of the group fall silent, eyes wide as they watch their leader walk into sight, the trap ready to spring beneath his feet. The jungle is quiet, unnaturally so, every animal within the near radius having fled from this sophisticated hunter, just as the group are trying to do. Every sound Dutch makes feels amplified: the crack of branches underfoot, the rustle of leaves with each step, any normally insignificant noise seemingly deafening in the tense atmosphere. 

His foot catches on a trip wire, the major pausing to make sure it doesn't spring the trap on him, carefully moving his boot off of the tense cord. Taking another step, the muscular man moves further into the clearing, before all hell breaks loose.

There is a blur of movement behind Dutch, the forest seemingly coming alive as a distorted shimmer lunges at him, clicking filling the air as whatever it is tries to take out its next prey. Thankfully, it trips the wire, the net underneath it springing up towards the canopy, closing in on itself around whatever it had caught, an outraged cry of some sorts emitting from the invisible quarry as it writhes in its temporary hold. Leaves cascade down into the clearing as the group rushes to the aid of their leader, guns raised, ready to fire.

A familiar streak of blinding blue light dashes any hope of catching it whilst it's compromised, the energy shearing through the netting around its occupant, falling away completely. Another blast severs the cord holding the counterweight in place, the heavy log swinging down into the clearing, scattering the gathered group as they move to avoid it. Poncho, however, is too late to realize the danger of the situation, and is caught with his back turned, the weight picking up speed as it nears him. 

All of a sudden, he hears a cry of his name and he is shoved to the side, his body tumbling to the floor even as another goes flying a few feet away from him, landing much heavier than he does. Confused, he ignores the shouting and gunfire that has broken out, scrambling to get over to the fallen body, recognising the figure lying, motionless, on the floor, his heart dropping in his chest. Eyes wide, he drops to the ground beside her and rolls her onto her back, taking in the limp movement of her body, as well as its sheer lack of muscular strength. (Y/n)'s chest is jerking uncontrollably, the medic struggling to breathe properly as her face contorts in agony, each breath rattling in her throat, uselessly. The log must've smashed into her torso, most likely breaking her ribs and bruising her sternum and collarbones, leaving her in unimaginable pain.

"Shit, (Y/n), this is my fault...I've got to get you out of here. God, I'm so sorry, stay with me! Please stay with me!" Poncho pleads with her, awkwardly reaching down to scoop her up, wincing as she groans out. Internally, he curses himself for letting this happen, his own stupidity having gotten her here.

Panic floods him as her arms hang limply at her sides, head lolling backwards, her conscience clearly fighting to stay awake.

"You've gotta stay awake, (Y/n). Keep fighting, it'll be ok soon. Come on, (Y/n), pull through for me!" He rambles to her, trying not to jostle her too much as he moves, only now realising that Dutch is yelling after Mac, who has raced off into the jungle.

Billy and Anna wait at the edge of the treeline, watching as Dillon goes to follow Mac, Dutch coming over to help Poncho, who gestures to his gun, meaning for the major to take it. Doing so, the two of them follow after Billy and Anna, heading into the sweltering jungle, aware of the fact that they will most likely never see their comrades again. Glancing down at the medic in his arms, Poncho tightens his grip, hoping to hell she'll make it; he doesn't know what he'll do without her, and it's only now dawned on him that she means a whole lot more to him than he once thought. 

*

He'd been wrong. Poncho knew that now. Waiting in the jungle for the predator to find them had been bad, it'd been stressful and he'd been terrified, but it couldn't compare to what he endured now. Sitting there, between the beds of the only two other survivors, slouched in his chair from exhaustion as he waited for them to wake up, he decided that this was worse. In the jungle, he'd stood a chance, however small it was, of ensuring the survival of his friends, but now? Now he had no way of making sure they'd pull through. No, that was in the hands of the bustling doctors and nurses going in and out of their private ward.

Somehow, Phillips had secured a room in the nearest hospital strictly for the survivors of this disastrous mission, sending all four of them there as soon as he had them back in safety. Both Anna and Poncho had healed quickly, and now spent their days waiting for the other two to wake up, both members of the group having entered some form of coma in the twenty four hours after their arrival, being drugged up to the eyes and all to hold off the pain and let them rest. Dutch had been in and out, his slurred ramblings unintelligible yet disturbingly sudden and vivid as he drifted in and out of conscience, but (Y/n) had remained still, as if in a death sleep, never stirring, barely even breathing. 

The log had done serious damage to her ribcage and spine, nearly leaving her paralyzed from the simple impact, multiple of her ribs now broken and close to puncturing her lungs. Deep purple bruising mottled the skin disappearing below the collar of her hospital robe, the colour angry and harsh against her natural skin tone, leaving Poncho wondering just how bad it was lower down. Just looking over her now, tired as he is, he knows that she is lucky she survived the blow: had she instantly moved to get up again, the cracked ribs would've driven straight into her lungs, killing her from the inside. 

Shaking his head, Poncho climbs to his feet and goes to stand beside her bed, observing her face carefully, mentally kicking himself for not realising sooner how much she actually means to him. How could he have ignored it? She'd always been there for him, dressing his wounds first whenever he got them, unless there were more serious ones on someone else, messing around with him to get him to lighten up, joking with him, being there for him when he needed her the most. In the jungle he'd asked himself what he'd do without her, and he still hasn't found an answer.

Just as he goes to sit down again, (Y/n) shifts, her head twitching a little. Shocked, he stays where he is and watches her again, waiting for another movement, anything to prove she's healing. 

He almost can't believe it when her eyelids flutter, her face wrinkling as she goes to open her eyes, blinking to fight off the onslaught of unnatural light blaring down at her. Inhaling sharply, Poncho holds his breath, watching as she clears her vision, taking in her surroundings, brief confusion flicking across her expression before everything comes back to her. Instantly, a look of grief and pain etch themselves into the lines of her face, but she is quick to notice Poncho lingering by her. Her jaw immediately starts working at forming words, but he swiftly puts a finger on her lips, smiling down at her in relief.

"You're awake! Oh my god, you're actually awake!" Is all he can say, elation filling him as he takes in the medic lying on the bed.

A timid half-smile works its way onto her face and she manages a nod, before she winces in pain, the movement sending twinges down her sore spine.

"Take it easy there, you took a heavy-ass log to the chest, it might take a while to heal up properly." He grins at her, lifting an eyebrow at her when she goes to nod again.

For a moment, the two stay in silence, staring at each other, relieved to see the other alive after their ordeal in the jungle, Poncho's hand eventually finding her's. Carefully, he joins them, intertwining their fingers as he squeezes it for reassurance, beaming when she manages to return the gesture, her fingers tightening around his own almost minutely. 

"I wish I could tell you exactly how happy I am that you're awake, (Y/n), I've never been so relieved in my life. If you hadn't  have woken up, I really don't know what I would've done." Poncho looks down as he says the rest, blushing slightly, "You mean the world to me, and I should've realised it sooner, hell, I'm kicking myself for not realising before you saved my ass, but now I know that I've come to care for you in a way that I haven't cared for anyone ever. I can't lose you."

Her eyes are wide as she looks up at him, her mouth opening as she goes to form words.

"Me...too…" She manages out, voice hoarse but recognisable, her following smile wide and happy.

Happiness floods him as he hears this, the man eager to respond, wishing he could pull her into a hug, but he is interrupted by the sound of a groan of pain from the man behind him, coherent words finally coming from the major's mouth.

Turning, Poncho gives (Y/n)'s hand one last squeeze before he goes over to the veteran, finding a pair of hard grey eyes staring at him from the bed, clearly confused, though the events of the mission are quickly coming back to him. Clenching his jaw, Poncho goes to check up on Dutch, feeling much happier now that he knows the two survivors are awake, though he is even more overjoyed to know (Y/n) shares his feelings.

Glancing back at her, he blushes as he catches her staring after him, a smile on her face.

[jinxedjackie]

Word vomit. Kinda. Sorta. Anyway, I am thinking about Sevika becoming a councilor in season 2, act three…

Sevika probably had gotten mad when the Piltie and fucking class traitor, Vi, approached her one day, spouting nonsense about offering her a seat. How she could lead Zaun into prosperity. The fucking audacity. She probably wanted to spat in their faces. Tell them to fuck off. Zaun didn’t need a seat, they needed to be on their own. Honestly, if Sevika had it her way, she would’ve left Piltover to suffer from the consequences of their own actions but Jinx hauled her, and she was Zaun’s symbol. The people of Zaun follow her. Who is she to defy?

Now, Piltover offers them a seat. It was a slap in the face. Years of systematic oppression and abuse, and they offer them a seat. The Piltie kept going on and on about how she’ll back up every decision, every project Sevika has for her people. Vi wanted her to listen and accept. It was a good opportunity, she says. It makes her blood boil.

In retrospect, it was a good opportunity. Zaun was in ruins and had suffered casualties from the war. Being a part of the council, with the support of House Kiramman (and Vi) would do good for them. But having to side with the people who had dehumanized them for decades? It makes her sick. Worse, she thinks about it and she doesn’t refuse.

Sevika was lost. She didn’t know who turned to. She asked the chem barons and the rest of Silco’s goons. No one gave her an answer, no one wanted to. Babette gave this old wisdom bullshit but it just makes everything worse. It takes her a few days to give the couple the answer they wanted to hear. She doesn’t even remember how she came to that decision or accepting it. She felt foreign to her own body. It was worse than losing her arm and being spellbound by the Herald.

But… it was a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. She dedicated her life for the cause. She’ll do anything and everything for Zaun.

But of all the people Caitlyn Kiramman could’ve chosen, they picked her. Her. That firelight kid—Ekko would’ve been the better choice. She’s not a leader. She could never lead. What would Vander do? What would Silco say? What could she do? Ekko built a safe community for Zaunites. Sevika was part of the empire that made Zaun more dangerous. But he’s young though. He spent his whole life fighting. She can’t let him carry that burden, especially when she’s seen Jinx suffer the same fate. She would’ve given the seat to any of the chem barons, but if Smeech was quick to give one of their people, she doubts the others wouldn’t do the same.

And then, the day she dreaded the most came. Being introduced as part of the council. Councilman Sevika. Jinx would’ve died laughing and listed witty names to call her. Isha would’ve probably wanted to help her get ready, what to say or do. Assert dominance, she’d probably have signed. They would’ve decorated her poncho with pink and blue. One last jab from Jinx, a toothy grin and thumbs up from Isha, and then they would’ve pulled off scheme to give Sevika a “grand entrance”.

When she walked into the council’s officer, the Pilties eyed her like predators. She was prey, served on a silver platter, ready to be devoured. But she had never been one to back down. She was ready for everything… almost. The scrutiny and dirty looks from these people she could handle. She had a lifetime of practice. But the ones from her own people? They made her heart ache.

Chross feigned indifference, Margot was already kissing her ass, but the two were more guarded than before. Some of the Zaunites ran up to her, thanking her for being part of the council. Our voices will finally be heard! One of the kids looked up at her with their big, innocent eyes like she’s Janna. Like she’s some savior. But most of them had became cautious and hostile of her. She was a traitor who usurped Silco’s control and power, and now wanted to play God. It hurts more when they were ready to be Sevika’s sacrificial lambs. It takes her back to her and Vi’s fight. You filthy traitor. It keeps ringing in her mind like a mantra.

[theemperorsnewfanblog]

y'all I'm so mad Disney rlly made Kuzco a predator I can't believe it😭😭😭

revisited the giftmas episode his first gift in the montage was a picture of himself in his green poncho, which he only got after the movie☠️

why'd they do this to me bro I love Kuzlina so much. I mean we all know Kuzco is too dumb to manipulate Malina but the technicality of it is still not great or fun to defend

[astoldbyaja]

Primal: The Clan of Blood and Water - Ch. 10 ~AU Predator (Franchise)~

I don’t know what it was I was expecting from Vitanja. I was used to a newborn who couldn’t stand for a long time, but here she was, already crawling, with great speed, on the floor after a few days of birth. I guess nothing should surprise me with this beautiful child.

Vitanja moved about the ground grabbing at the small skulls her father had brought to her. I was sitting up in the nest of furs while Scorpion was on his side, next to me. A low purr gently emitted from him as he watched our baby.

She had taken to Tiera and was used to her scent which was good. The young human sat on the floor happily watching and playing with the suckling. Scorpion let out a low shrill as he rested his hand on my knee before raising his body up to look at my feet. He removed the bandages as we saw the scrapes had closed, leaving pale scars. I completely forgot I was even mildly wounded.

Scorpion looked at me and I smiled up at his warm eyes. His mouth couldn’t convey, but his eyes could.

As the day went on, we went to visit the healer, Bruton’s grotto, so that he could inspect both Vitanja. I sat on the cold table with Vitanja on my lap shrilling and hissing lowly. One tiny hand was in my hair while the other was reaching for Scorpion who stood by the healer. We were scanned all over by a light from the ceiling and when all of that was done, I stood up and approached my mate, letting him take our suckling under one arm so she could chew on his locs while scans showed up on a holograph of our bodies.

“Both Lady A’tuma and the suckling are both healthy. Now that she is no longer pregnant, Lady A’tuma’s instincts will sharpen and her yautja blood will be more potent. You may notice some changes in your body. But we won’t know for a while.” he explained. I noticed the healer called me by my… married title. I was starting to like it more and more.

Scorpion nodded.

“Can we expect any negative reactions?” he asked. My stomach tightened a bit at his question, and I looked from him to Vitanja watching as she continued to chew her father’s loc which brought her comfort. Then I looked up at Bruton who shrilled lowly as he looked at me.

“Only time will tell. As of right now she is the only yautja human hybrid. If there are any illnesses or you feel strange, you are to come to me right away.” he said seriously. I nodded immediately.

As we left Bruton’s grotto, Scorpion surprised me by raising me bridal style, while I held Vitanja. I was taken off guard by this sudden action.

“Afraid my feet may bleed again?” I teased gently.

“Yes.” he said flatly. Both Vitanja and I looked at him confused not used to such a quick response and tone. I could feel he was anxious.

“You are worried about there being negative side effects of my change.” I assumed.

“No.” he hissed lowly. I felt he was lying and so I pressed Vitanja’s body to me so she could lie on my chest, and I raised my other hand to gently caress the side of his jaw, touching his mandibles. It had been a long time since it has been the two of us, alone to talk about our worries and our future and anything else.

“How about we leave Vitanja with Tiera and the two of us go out on a date.” I replied. Scorpion looked down at me with an arched invisible brow.

“What is this word “date”?” he asked. I grinned.

“Like bonding between mates. Just the two of us going out and just doing whatever we want.” I said. Scorpion’s snow white eyes finally looked down on me and I could feel his face vibrating with the sound of his purring.

“Whatever we want… alright my tempest.” he said. I smiled and nuzzled into him and Vitanja shrieked with excitement.

That night, I thought I’d feel grave separation anxiety from Vitanja, but something in body calmed my nerves, any fears I had were gone. I wore a mesh poncho around my body with long orange and red necklaces that hid my chest. On my wrist was the gauntlet Scorpion had made for me with my phone imbedded into it. I guess if something happened to me, he could find me. Scorpion was in his usual mesh top and loin cloth. The forest seemed alive with different noises, and my ears took in every sound I heard and etched it into my memory. Scorpion was walking ahead of me, but hardly far enough that my hands couldn’t touch him. I noticed long heavy vines were scattered over thick tree branches. I looked up at the night sky to see these heavy trees were everywhere.

“Is this what you had in mind for bonding?” I asked as Scorpion turned to gaze down at me.

“The beginning of it.” he said. In seconds he jumped and grabbed hold of a batch of vines with only one hand. With his other he raised it out to me to take, and I did without question. His hand quickly picked me from the ground and brought me to his thick body. I wrapped my arms around his waist, and he locked his legs around my stomach. I could feel the tightness in his thigh muscles. He was trying not to apply too much pressure on me. But I looked up at him as he began to climb up the vines with ease. There were smells I had not noticed during the day that I noticed tonight. Incredible. Everything smelled like forest or some type of rough animal fur.

Once we were at the top, Scorpion swung me up onto the flat branches and then swung himself up and landed with a crouch. I stood up and he did so too, towering over me with a soft hiss. He gently took my hand.

“Follow.” he said. At first, I wondered what that meant, until I saw his back and he was running fast. With one mild crouch he was jumping through the air and landed on another branch. It creaked lowly with his weight. He looked back at me with a casual snarl before he began to turn and run off some more into the trees. I felt a slight panic come over me as he was not close to me anymore.

My chest moved up and down.

‘Follow.’

A heavy forest like musk was in my mind immediately, the moment I inhaled I smelled it. I can smell his scent. I smell him. I feel knots forming in my stomach, at the edge almost, like I was being pulled. I needed to follow or else I’ll be left behind. I felt my feet move before my mind really told it to. I ran as fast as I could, mimicking Scorpion’s actions and crouching and just pushing off.

‘What are you doing!’ I screamed internally. But my body was flying through the air. My hair flies up immediately, but my body seems to move on its own and I land on another branch with a crouch. I gasp audibly and felt my hands shaking as they clutch the bark.

Speaking of bark, I hear a loud bark in the distance, and I look up to see two trees already separating Scorpion and me. I feel my heart pounding hard in my chest, and I run once more and continued to push forward running and jumping from branch to branch letting my instinct take over. I needed to let my yautja instincts flourish and get used to our home. But my mind was only on my mate. I wanted to be closer to him. As I continued to jump from tree to tree, he made sure to keep one tree ahead of me.

This only pushed me to run faster. But I lose focus in my landing, and I yelp as I don’t stick a landing on a branch. Now I am falling fast into the vines, and I feel them start to wrap around my hips and thighs and before I know it, I’m upside down, hair flowing as I am swaying back and forth. I hear rustling from above me and now I am eye to eye with Scorpion who lets out a cackle of a laugh as he is upright, and I am not. He is holding onto the vines as if he were Tarzan himself. I give a pout.

“This is supposed to be bonding?” I pouted. He cackled some more before he helped me with one hand.

“I am having fun… are you not?” he asked humorously. Oh, he is teasing me. Now he helps me get untangled and slowly he holds me as we glide down the ground. I had to admit, it felt nice feeling the wind against my face. It felt nice to feel like I was flying! Once we hit the ground, I noticed how dark it was, and I held onto Scorpion’s arm. Then light appeared from beneath us and I looked down noticing both our wrist gauntlets were giving off a light glow and I up ahead I noticed a very large mouth that belonged to a cave.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“A graveyard… I came across it long ago. Perfect for scavenging… I will look for you the finest of skulls and fangs.” he said and now I could hear the excitement in his scaly voice. I arched a brow with faux disbelief.

“Are you sure, that sounds like a task that maybe not even you the great Enforcer Scorpion can handle.” I replied. Now Scorpion’s eyes widened, and his mandibles stretched out as if to mimic a mouth drop. Now he was dashing into the creepy cave as if on a mission. I chuckled lightly and began to follow behind him. This should be fun.

[sepublic]

Knowing that Anna was fairly aware of the Predator’s existence as a generational boogeyman really changes how you see her actions throughout the film. As does her knowing English (I need to rewatch the movie from Anna’s developing perspective), and knowing that the Predator relied on chameleon camouflage rather than the jungle just ‘coming alive’. Given her obviously communist leanings, it’s clear Anna was understandably trying to get the others killed by the Predator so she could escape.

But when she decides that her own life might be at stake as well, she relents; Though I wonder if Anna also changed her mind on the protagonists and became more sympathetic after learning about them more. Maybe she even had a desire to avenge all of the men of her village that the Predator killed? It might explain why she doesn’t just ditch Dutch and Poncho once he explains that Anna is safe because she’s unarmed and thus ‘no sport’. Or maybe she was too busy panicking at the moment to think clearly and remind herself; Oh yeah I guess I have no reason to help these guys anymore. I don’t need them, if anything they’re liabilities! Maybe Anna thought she needed at least one of them to vouch for her to the chopper team.

It’s telling that while Anna and the women in her village knew of the Predator for generations, it’s Dutch who puts together pretty quickly what its motives are. Obviously he has the benefit of actually being its quarry, but I guess it lends more credence to my interpretation of the Predator as a dark reflection to the guys; Dutch knows firsthand how men like the Yautja think. Men like that may have been part of his reason for leaving the military, and/or he can get into its prideful head; He clearly has an appreciation for good sport himself, given his introductory arm wrestling with Dillon.

[as4nkahe4rtbl33ds]

I drew this a while back, thought I’d post it! It’s Poncho! (It’s not that good but I like it)

[stormysprite]

so…I wanted to put a little bit about each of my murder birds penguins bc I love them

and also in case I ever say something like “Pedro screamed for five seconds straight, jumped in circles, and did a barrel roll once I sprayed him with a hose” you know this is about a penguin, not a people (I do not advise doing the above with a people, but Pedro likes it)

Bigfoot: literally has big feet. Tries to help, trips people instead. Loves boots a concerning amount. Convicted face biter.

Flower: President of Penguin HOA

Corey: would commit tax fraud if he could

Blue: nervous. Loves his wife v much and wishes she would chill

Nipper: ladies man. Possibly about to start his third penguin marriage. builds castles, not nests

Pebbles: once started a months-long war with Flower. Peb won, but her tail feathers have never grown back completely

Carla: objectively The Prettiest

Lizzie: uses rubber gloves as stress balls. While keepers are wearing them.

Big T: would drive a minivan, soccer dad

Bug: has a mile-large personal space bubble she WILL enforce

Roxie: climbed up from the depths of the underworld to eliminate humankind. Is she actually a penguin? We may never know

Beaker: stands in weird places

Poncho: absolute unit. The earth shakes when he walks. He’s not even chubby, he’s just built BIG

Peep: founder of the penguin bridge club

Cheddar: narcissist. Dolly Parton’s #1 fan

Pedro: hobbies include dancing, splashing in water, and causing problems on purpose

Chaos: name says it all. Can and will delete your kneecaps

Merlin: v good singer just does it at bad times

Bacon: prim, pretty, proper, petite until she’s hungry thEN SHE WILL EAT UNTIL HER GIRTH SMOTHERS THE SUN AND THE WORLD GROWS COLD

Monty (name subject to change): The Baby(tm). Goes through 4 stages of grief every day at not being a terrifying apex predator. We have yet to get him to the acceptance stage

Shamrock: sweetest bird, universally beloved

Hercules: Very Attractive according to the females, he and his wife would rather be left alone

Noodle: looks like she’ll explode into a pile of confetti or tears at any moment. We don’t know which. Very sweet, though

if you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading! Have one of Monty’s baby pictures:

[ravenousrampage]

How many people can fit inside your Mob Predator boys? Also Quiver I made you a Poncho and matching Hat for those hot summer days.

N can fit 5, Creeps can fit 2 or 3. But this is only if they're starving starving. That's their max capacity. They prefer half that amount to feel satisfied, and anything more than that (1 or 2 for either of them) is gonna make them a bit bloated.

[delta-rex]

Tell me about the horses

OK FINALLY I CAN ANSWER THIS.

so. this is going to be Long cause im boutta copy and paste the entire lore and also the images from my friends discord channel

yeah so the idea started bc my friend and i were like zamn ok. what if we had gay cowboys and then the braincell went BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR and i accidentlly invented an entire planet and ecosystem just to fit in some wacky alien horses. i have problems disease.

aNYWAYS so the planet itself is more or less a pangea-like construction, there's bascially just one continent bc i dont LIKE continental drift its MEAN and RUDE and messes up EVERYTHING.

the planet is farther away from its sun than earth / the sun is weaker, so it's generally much colder (like 30-40F year round bc i forgot how celsius works oops). still 100% livable for humans (so therefore colonized asap), but kinda cold ish so.

this climate is still pretty prime for grasslands- therefore alien HONSE bc i do what i want. btw. the honses are BIG boyes. like avg is a large van/small moving truck. theyre big.

the grasslands are home to a fairly complex ecosystem but we don't care aobut that, just the fact that there are decently sized predators that live in the long grasses (max size, toyota corolla or smaller). however theyre big enough that most cities, instead of bothering to settle down on the ground and have to build substantial defenses against these predator packs, just went 'hmm there's a solution to this, and this solution is GIANT ASS HOVERCRAFTS THE SIZE OF CITIES.' and so they rolled the fuck with it.

the problem with these is that not only to they have to be guarded from the grassland predators... there are also ALPHA predators. basically these are ultra mega insanely large creatures that roam the supercontinent, and they all are pretty much in agreement that a floating hovercraft city makes a nice healthy breakfast, however they HATE eating the honses as they're toxic to the alpha predators. so, the colonizing humans looked at em and went 'WHAT IF WE HAD MORE!!!' so now, every city has a giant herd of at least 30+ horses, and bigger cities can ahve up to 50.

no horses? you die! no hovercraft? you die!

orgot to mention the planet has no seasonal tilt lol, there's also some forest around the eqator where it's warmest, and the day is like 15/20 hours long yeah

yeah so. an entire fucking planet i invented just for some gay cowboys. 'wow rex' you say 'thats kind of excessive' oh just wait i did MORE

SO. despite there not being much precipitaion, everyone wears ponchos because changing outfits is hard and you NEVER get off the horse. ever. so you gotta carry it with you and i sure wouldnt want to carry more than like 2 outfits at a time. ponchos are practical solutions to every outfit problem ever

being a cowboy or the equivalent title is however really really prestigious, as theyre basically the ones keeping you and all the people you know alive so like you kinda want those yknow. you kinda get a free pass with everything in the city in your off season

(year is more or less the same by our reckoning, so most people would spend like 4-6 months escorting around the city, then 6-8 resting and doing stuff up top. some people train new horses full-time, but they don't usually escort full-time)

people who work on the fusion cores and propulsion systems also get similar treatment for bascially the same reason and ofc in the city people have all the usual jobs that you need to keep stuff running but yeah

cowbooys are just normal ass people. like humans. yeah the focus is the honses sorry i do waht i want

honse colors include but are not limited to normal horse colors and patterns, so while buckskin, bay, and grey are all common if your horse blue go tf off we love to see it

there's more lore about the actual gay cowboys and their horses also but the worldbuilding is the fun part in my opinion tbh.

images:

honse portrait

long boy

anatomy struggle

view from hovercraft

school project I did (patterns are part of the project but shapes are correct)