trials-by-blood
A PREDATOR FANCOMIC
Follows and Likes as @greybacks-flintlock (I'll also reblog Predator related content constantly)
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I have a theory that people who get turbo popular in fandom become isolated and incomprehensible against anyone but other turbo popular blogs because the loudest things in fandom are the kind of horny weirdos who use others as horny content despensers rehashing the same horny content over and over and the discourse farm blogs. That leaves anyone a little more normal about fandom also isolated and frustrated that doors with other semi-sensible people behind them get slammed in their faces to protect the people inside and the doors left open are the "Wow Draw/write XYZ horny thing for me" or the discourse farms.
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This is Kevin The Merchant. Wanna watch me paint this tomb looting manlet?
Head down to my youtube and SUBSCRIBE!
youtube
#from my main blog#mini painting#speedpaint#citadel paints#ttrpg minis#d&d#dnd miniatures#dnd#dnd art#miniature#Youtube
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Olay so I proper posted that last one to the wrong blog. Sorry.
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Hey there! Saw that your reblogged my confession with the tag "You Get It". What do you mean by that, out of curiosity?
That the creature design in Prey was absolute hot garbage on top of all the other little issues with the movie.
I hate his neck so much knowing they stuffed the suit actor's head in that neck to allegedly get a more proportionate head (in exchange for having the most awkward, stiff, unnatural upper body and torso movement of any predator in any film).
I could complain for hours about the creature design.
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I didn’t like PREY.
I have a lot of problems with Twentieth Century Studios PREY installment in the Predator franchise. Having watched the movie via a streaming party, I can say that it’s an OKAY movie, mediocre at worst but it’s certainly overrated, overhyped and blown out of proportion.The movie’s not THAT fucking good, and in my opinion NOT a good PREDATOR movie.
My problems with the movie aren’t with Amber Midthunder’s character as we’ve had a female lead before in the first AVP movie. My problems lay with the creative decisions in the design of the creature which looks so far removed from Stan Winston’s facial design to where it doesn’t even LOOK like a Predator, the writing and lack of exposition to how Amber’s character knows certain skills such as how to hunt and fight, the portrayal of this Predator being inept and incompetent compared to the previous Predators in all the films, and the changing of lore in regards to the Raphael Adolini character and the pistol which he owned that we see at the end of Predator 2.
PREY would’ve been a much better film as an original production completely disconnected from the Predator franchise with an original creature.
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I love how... Like..... Even fairly large, fit, beefy cats can kinda melt into pancake mode when they relax.
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Important Personal Update Regarding Writing Prompts.
I will no longer be taking ANY HumanOC/Yautja prompts. Ever.
This is something I've been agonizing about for a long, long, long time.
I've been in this fandom for twenty-five years. This topic is a major staple of the entire fandom. I HAVE a human OC in this universe, which makes me feel terribly hypocritical about this decision. I'm not in any way taking this choice lightly.
So, hear my story out:
I'm completely burnt out on this romantic dynamic. Completely. Utterly. Totally. Burnt. Out. On. It.
In 2004 AVP hit theaters, the fandom was saturated in the Lex/Scar ship. OC/Yautja pairings blossomed all over the web. It was glorious. I, a monster fucker raised on Street Sharks and Gargoyles, absolutely loved it.
Around this time, I got into text based roleplaying. Can you guess my favorite topic?
This is where things went wrong. Every roleplay, I would be pigeon-holed into playing this Beeflord Surpreme alien whose sole purpose in the plot was to rail a human 20 something and slowly train them up into a mini predator. It didn't seem to matter how these online exchanges started or how the plot began or what, it would always circle around to whatever writing partner I was talking to wanting that specific plot (plus or minus tragic backstory details). It got old.
I feel like I've written the same novel a couple dozen times. I'm tired. I struggle horrifically to find any interest at all in any human/yautja idea/prompt because I've literally done it all! Five times over! Front and back! Left and right!
There is a single exception to this. Machiko Noguchi and Shorty. Because spicy.
So. Yeah... Yautja/yautja or yautja/other-extra-terrestrials only for the foreseeable future.
My own personal human OC may RARELY crop up in the future out of a very personal well of sentimentality, but past that, I'm tired of training up mini predators. Sorry.
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uh im not sure if your still taking writing prompts, I basically just found you on another account and scrolled through your posts for like 2 hours, but if you are, so a transmasc reader and a male yajuta, the human reader is like super feisty and wants to do everything their alien counter part does but struggles with it, because their smaller and much weaker. They get hurt and into trouble a lot, but their yajuta mate is always there to help them.
Unfortunately no, I'm not able to take writing prompts at this time.
I'm working full time at a high stress job and I have several other OG projects I'm trying to find the motivation to work on, so taking writing prompts for fandom is kinda on the low end of the scale in terms of priorities at this time.
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I just finished it. I have thoughts. A lot of good and a little bad.
For ONCE it's not the plot that has stoked the bulk of my annoyance. And my annoyance is... Shockingly small, by comparison to my viewing experience with the last three movies featuring Tall, Transparent, and Butt Ugly.
Ughghtgtghhh guess I gotta watch Prey. I'm scared guys. We've had a pretty Dog Water run of movies in this franchise ever since AVP. I'm not holding my breath.
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Ughghtgtghhh guess I gotta watch Prey. I'm scared guys. We've had a pretty Dog Water run of movies in this franchise ever since AVP. I'm not holding my breath.
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Took a nap today. I had this dream a Yautja warrior adopted a kitchen. He adopted the line cooks. The most unhinged people on the entire fucking earth. I cannot remember any context for this concept. Only irate kitchen staff losing their fucking minds at somebody being rude to their yautja, who they were affectionately calling "the wait staff". I have no idea wtf this dream was.
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Felt like adding poorly photographed Hakroton concept art to this and one infant with zero context.
This was rotting in my docs and a mutual who'd prefer to remain anonymous asked about OTHER aliens that appear in my bat-shit headcanons.
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Skemte had made choices in his life that put him squarely on the fringe of society. Firstly, choosing cartography as a primary career. Trailing the exploratory vessels to map the surfaces of planets upon formal commission isn't a grand life path. It was a lonely business that did not require a pack or ties with any warriors of higher status. An individual often must rely on a strong chain of command above him in order to climb those ranks himself and to be without that avenue of advancement places a young warrior at a social disadvantage. Skemte's place among his people, the yautja, was fairly stagnant as far as official rankings go.
Another repetitive social misstep on his part, Skemte often skipped the breeding season for lack of interest in women. They simply didn't appeal to him in the way other warriors found them irresistible. Lastly, Hakroton living aboard his ship made him a spectacle of unorthodox conduct among the yautja.
Hakroton was a Rik-sia soldier, an alien whose very existence began in a test tube and should have ended in the jaws of a Clade Devourer. Skemte had made the mistake of slaying that Devourer. In short order, he’d found himself hunted by Hakroton because, for Rik-sia soldiers, a mission is not done until their ferocious drive to destroy their prey is satisfied. To eliminate their target for them is to become their next target. An unfortunate series of events had interrupted Hakroton's relentless pursuit and bound them together in an informal partnership for better or worse.
They were now headed toward one of the great clan ships and the very one on which Skemte was born. Their vessel would dock with the Clan Ship in less than an hour, so, Skemte needed to wake Hakroton.
He stood from his seat at the command array and strode from the helm into the main corridor of his ship. The layout was similar to a brain and the adjoining stem, every path led to and from the nexus of control at his seat. Closest to this place of command was Skemte's bed chambers, and that was where he found Hakroton lazing across a nest of bedding.
The spindly beast had a habit of lying diagonally across the pelt lined mats -and over top of Skemte wherever he occupied the bed too- in order to fit comfortably. If yautja had talons, then sabers tipped each of a rik-sia's fingers and toes. The tail was long, well muscled, and prehensile. Horny head encased in thick, scaly, natural armor. Keeled scales down the back, each as wide as Skemte's hand and as thick as half the width of a finger to protect the spine. Large eyes with superior nocturnal vision. Legs that could spring his lithe form vertically at least seven times his own body length. A designer killing machine honed for combat against an equally deadly engineered monstrosity.
The trade-off for all of this prowess and agility was a rampant, unmanaged case of High-Strung Bastard. Skemte had never met a creature that could literally die of boredom. If Hakroton didn't have something to do -or hunt- food would begin to nauseate him, he'd forget to drink water, he'd flounder between near constant sleeping and bouts of mania.
The solution was endless sparring between hunts. Skemte was in better condition than he'd ever been before, thanks to the regimen he was forced to keep Hakroton on.
Enough admiring. Skemte pressed his fingers through the blunt ends of the quills covering the back of his companion's head to watch them flare and fall. He liked the way the hollow appendages rattled. Hakroton lifted his head and shook it.
"I'm still sore. Go away. I'll service you later." Hakroton tried to dismiss him.
"We're docking with the clan ship. Wake up and wash. You stink of sleep."
"You stink of your own frustration. I'll only wash if you wash with me."
"It sounds like you've changed your mind about offering your services."
"Scrub my back and find out, Heat Seeker."
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Y'all need to stop being so weird about going through a person's entire blog and smashing the like and rb buttons on literally everything but their art.
I don't mind listening to my phone have a fit from 40+ notifications in 8 minutes if some of the shit I spent up to 16 hours working on gets some love too.
If you genuinely have zero interest in my art crap then how about you pace yourself and limit the notification apocalypse on my phone (and the bruising on my ego) to like... Five likes and a reblog or two per day.
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I forgot to post this here. Not even gonna bother with shading. I just wanted to play with color and texture.
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That and their boys aren't even on the outside. (Not sure how accurate the caption text is)
I just saw a Yautja themed dildo and I must desperately communicate the specific detail to you, that it wears the fishnets over the balls
I am shocked, I must tell you, SHOCKED—
because you see, testicles hang out of the body like that because the sperm's optimal temperature is lower than that of the body's normal temperature, therefore for its own health and productivity, they cannot be internal like ovaries
BUT the fishnets Yautja wear are conductive netting made to keep them warm on Hunts, whose lowest setting is even unsuitable for a human and can only go up from there
THEREFORE wearing fishnets over the testicles would greatly decrease his virility, which no TRUE Yautja Hunter would stand for, as their ultimate goal is to fuck like absolute beasts and have as many children as they PHYSICALLY can before they get wasted less than a third through their potential lifespan
This is a cultural faux pas and I will not stand for it—
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Honestly, there's nothing more comical than watching my very big, gorgeous, majestic, fourteen pound cat hike up his leg to awkwardly lick his foot while lying down.
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