#humans are predators

[emerald-dragonflame]

I had a vision

[thatquietkid108]

Aliens: The pH of the soil is too high, I believe I'm gonna die!

Humans: FUCK YEAH! CONCRETE !

[smolfrosted]

Y’all just ever have moments where you remember that you still technically are an apex predator and like

Instinct just kicks in?

Like when hunting a bug or something not supposed to be in the house?

[hisuianserperior]

Y'all ever have moments that make you go "Oh yeah, I *am* a predator"? Cause whenever there's a small creature around or someone drops something the way my head locks onto it so fast just reminds me

[thatquietkid108]

Or when you hear a bird in a bush while walking or see something tussle. You stop, look inside and suddenly all the birds stopped chirping and just sit there motionless waiting for you to move away

I feel like any aliens that were prey at some point in evolution would have an odd fear of humans. Mostly cause they look like predators, act a bit like predators, and ARE predators. One perfect example is when we're focused on something like a mosquito that's been bugging us for a long time and we are just done.

Alien: "What. What..?"

Human: *HUNTING down a mosquito it saw*

Alien: ".... yeah I am really uncomfortable...."

Human: *quiet footsteps, pupils dialated, intense focus,*

Alien: *WAR FLASHBACKS*

Human: "Found you." *absolutely desimates the mosquito, squashing it into a million pieces as it's guts and various body parts liquidize into blood of the bloodthirsty, now stained on the palm of the human. A living being now reduced to a useless corpse as the human wipes the remains on their pants*

Alien: "I feel like I've just gained trauma."

[multific]

Marked for Him

Yautja x Reader

Summary: You were meant to be nothing more than a trophy, a rare human prize in a Yautja’s hunt. But instead of killing you, your captor keeps you.

The cold metal walls of the Yautja ship felt cold around you, a stark contrast to the burning heat of your captor’s gaze.

You had expected death the moment you were taken. You expected to be strung up like the other trophies you had seen, their skulls cleaned and polished as a true sign of victory.

But days had passed, and you remained untouched.

Not harmed, not locked away like some caged animal, but kept in his personal quarters, a space filled with weapons, armour, and relics of past hunts. He brought you food, strange meats and exotic fruits.

He watched you, always silent, always hovering at a distance, but never hurting you.

And when another Yautja entered the room one evening, his stance was predatory, his clicking voice was speaking words you could not understand, and you saw the first hint of true aggression from your captor.

The air turned sharp, charged with something primal.

Your Yautja, yes, yours, though you hardly understood why you thought of him that way, let out a deep growl, stepping between you and the newcomer.

The second Yautja tilted his head, mandibles flaring in the challenge, but before he could move, your protector struck.

It happened so fast, claws raking, fists colliding, bodies slamming against the walls with enough force to shake the room.

The fight was brutal and efficient.

And when your Yautja stood victorious, the other writhing beneath his clawed hand, he snarled something low and guttural before tossing the defeated hunter aside like a broken toy.

Then, he turned to you.

His chest heaved, his body coiled tight with something he had been holding back for too long.

Slowly, he approached, his massive form towering over you, but there was no fear in you.

You had stopped fearing him after you just saw him defend you.

He reached out, talons brushing against your cheek, then trailing down to your throat where his claws barely pressed against your skin. Not enough to hurt but enough to make you feel.

A soft rumble vibrated in his chest, something like a purr, something almost tender. As tender as a being like him was able to.

Then, he moved his hand lower, to your arm, where the faintest shimmer of a mark had begun to appear.

A claim. A bond. A mark only he could give.

“You marked me?” you whispered, voice barely audible.

His mandibles clicked, and his eyes locked onto yours.

Mine.

The word was unspoken, but you felt it all the same.

And you knew, without question, that you were his.

His mate. His treasure. His everything.

When his massive arms wrapped around you, pulling you into the safest embrace you had ever known, you didn’t resist. You melted into him, letting the steady beat of his heart soothe the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

You had been taken as a trophy. But you had been kept as something far more precious.

And you would never belong to anyone else.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[emerald-dragonflame]

Dude I saw the crap you were getting about your (EXTREMELY good and powerful in a very positive way) comic about how humans are predators so I wanted to send you some positive thoughts about it.

Humans being predators is what got us domesticating animals in the first place. Tens of thousands of years ago, our first domesticated animal was the dog. Hunters and their dogs brought home food for their families. When herd animals were domesticated, dogs helped us herd them.

Dogs hone their predatory skills with play, and this lead to something that makes me SO HAPPY AND WARM thinking about. Thousands and thousands of years ago, a caveman saw a dog tossing a stick around and chasing it, saw how much fun they were having, and had the idea to use their opposable thumbs and optimal throwing proportions to pick up the stick and throw it for the dog.

Man’s best friend.

Thank you so much, I genuinely really appreciate it struck such a cord with you!

And yeah, you're right, without us being predators, we wouldn't have really a reason to domesticate anything. We genuinely make the lives of the animals we domesticate better. They live long happy lives, and while there are some bad practices we use nowadays (factory farmed eggs are not the best), in general, we love and care for the animals we farm.

Because a well cared for animal is a healthy one.

Dogs being one of the very first animals we ever looked at and thought "friend" to may have started off as something perhaps even selfish, but look at them now, look at us now, and tell me that there isn't a benefit? Tell me that humans aren't happier with dogs around, tell me that dogs aren't happier with people around?

Tell me that man's best friend isn't loved and cherished?

[thatquietkid108]

Do you think aliens would give humans jaw breakers the same way we give dog a bone?

Human: has a problem with biting their nails

Alien: *gives them a jaw breaker on a stick*

[thatquietkid108]

That's me with an orange in the shower, not caring where the juices go but just enjoying the fruit. Tasted 10x better

ordered pizza from a small local place and they didnt actually cut it so i've chosen to revert to a wild animal and begin ripping it apart instead of just using a knife to portion slices

[kiyodrawsko]

well, since no one likes upgrade predator, I’m gonna give him aaaaall my love <З

a quick sketch!!

[somewheres-woods]

Imagine being a human warrior on Yautja Prime... this is one long ahh drabble...

Taken in by an elder female warrior, she vouched for you in order for yourself to be taken seriously. To not be chased out and killed or put in the arena for entertainment. She practically raised you, she's your mentor, someone you always felt you can rely on.

For the rest of the clan, you're kept at a distance. You still need to prove your worth.

There's this one male in particular that seems to utterly despise you. He's the most celebrated male in the clan, an attractive Big Game Hunter who hunts monsters far beyond human comprehension. He doesn't even waste his time hunting humans. To him, and most yautja, humans are ugly little creatures who can get creative and unfair out of nowhere. We're basically the equivalent of goblins to them.

You're no different to him. Your face is weird and just wrong, and you're far too small and soft to be a worthy adversary. Constantly trailing behind your master like a lost whelp. He'd rather keep his distance.

A prideful traditional yautja. Arrogant as the rest.

Yet, when a giant scorpion like beast strikes him with its poison tipped tail, he has no choice but to seek out your master for an antidote. After taking his trophy, of course. Yet your master is nowhere to be found. Only you reside in the cave.

He's half tempted to turn around and muscle out the poison. However, he decides this is an opportune moment to test your prowess. To see if you're worth being your master's pupil.

He'd rather that you weren't touching him. He's a vain creature, you see. A "you can look but don't touch" type of yautja. Why wouldn't he be? He's incredibly attractive by yautja standards. Honestly, attractive by human standards too, but it's best if you don't tell him that. Don't want to inflate his ego any further.

The softness of your skin... it's not the worst thing. He's certainly been in close contact with more disgusting things.

You cure him of his ailment. Quite quickly, too. It seems like you're improving your master's recipes...

...

Humans certainly are crafty.

Half a day passes, you're sitting by the fire inside your master's cave, stitching up a tapestry for her. You feel something heavy dumped on top of you in a heap. Soft, warm fur enveloping you. It's a pelt on some kind of great wolf-like creature. You certainly like pelts, having started your own small collection of prey you skinned yourself. You remember seeing this kind of pelt on someone before. You certainly remember eyeing a yautja who was wearing one, thinking about how you'd get your own like that.

Just who wore that cloak again? Wasn't it—

"A gratitude gift. Think nothing of it." He grumbled as he stalked away, you only caught a glimpse of his back when he turned around to return to camp.

Your master stares at the scene, a look in her eyes that seems to be a mix of endeared and amused. In a way that only older people can look at young couples people.

Several days pass, and yet he hasn't seen you in his "gratitude gift" yet. Which ticked him off. He spent all that time hunting down that creature, just to create a fur cloak with smaller proportions than he's used to. It was tedious. Troublesome. You didn't deserve the effort. He doesn't even know why he felt the need to make that for you. You don't even bother to wear it.

But on this particular day, it rains. A torrential downpour fitting for the harsh climates of Yautja Prime. He sees a flash of silvery white running around the camp as he prepares to hunt for rations for the clan. You're wearing his gratitude gift.

...

He's only admiring his handiwork. He did a fine job in creating a fur cloak to fit someone with smaller proportions.

Yes. That's it.

He's only admiring his handiwork.

[sh1-n0bu]

some things humans do that seems like self mutilation to your yautja mate

when you cut your nails or file them down after they break off unevenly, constantly annoying you or scratching over your skin. it looks like you’re de-clawing yourself to your yautja and the next time you try to file down your nails, the nail kit is harder to find or has been used up as target practice while a very much innocent yautja clicks and clack his mandibles around

when you cut your hair short or at least trim the edges, especially at home. to yautjas, their dreadlocks AKA tentacles, are their extra sensors. they must be greatly taken care of, handled with care and even longer and well maintained dreadlocks are greatly desired amongst yautja society. long and well cared of dreadlocks means the yautja is an experienced hunter and old even in some cases and their kin desires to be an experienced, well aged, elder hunters. some tribes would even cut off the dreadlocks of prisoner yautjas of other tribes or bad bloods, so whenever the snipping sound of the scissor rings out, your mate has to suppress a shiver or hold back an angered growl at the scissors for daring to hurt his mate. the first few times, there were definitely snatching away of the sharp object or perhaps even one of their precise laser beams were fired to kick that thing away from your hair and hands. but even after many times of explaining and soothing, your yautja mate would still have some problem hiding his angered growl every time you snip away at your hair

whenever you brush your teeth. brushing teeth is nothing known to them due to their mouth anatomy and fangs. plus, their diet consists of fresh, uncooked meat most of the time which requires sharp canines and not so bright teeth (side note: yellow teeth are okay in humans because the actual bone color is yellow so yellow teeth means strong teeth or so i read). besides, the sound the brush makes when you brush your teeth sounds like the one a file would make when filing down bones so to them, it sounds like you’re filing down your fangs. sometimes, your yautja mate thinks that perhaps this is why you need to eat cooked meat and doesn’t have sharp fangs like him. and of course, the first few times, your toothbrush went missing

‘oomans are very weird with odd customs and desire for self-mutilation. sometimes, your mate would think this is perhaps why ‘oomans are so physically weak. that they purposefully make themselves weaker and would sometimes even have a growing sense of respect for ‘ooman warriors for even with all these self-mutilations and making themselves weaker, smaller and slower, they still manage to survive and sometimes even win against yautjas. ‘oomans were truly fascinating little creatures. but right now, your yautja is more keen to the idea of wrapping his body around your smaller one to keep you safe while you rest. though one of the many positive aspects, is that you make cute noises in your sleep

[demiisdead]

SOMEONE MAKE A GRENDEL X READER ASAP

[whimsyvixen]

So I may have written a little something 😗👉👈....

ℝ𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕒𝕟𝕥 (short drabble)

Fic: Predator Killer of Killers

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Warlord Predator x Human Female Reader, Grendel King x Human Female Reader

Synopsis/Excerpt: You were not aware of the physiological changes in your body, so you were oblivious to their sudden interest.

WARNINGS/TAGS: NSFW, explicit content, dark themes, alien/human, teratophilia, size difference, ovulating, pheromones, choking.

A/N: I did very little to no research regarding the culture/mannerisms of yautja so I kinda just winged this one, you guys. I needed to get this idea out of my head, even if it was done poorly. It was haunting me for days! 😭 Enjoy! ✌️

As a human, you lacked the ability to smell any change in pheromones. This made it hard to distinguish moods and social cues amongst the yautja, a race of alien warriors that kidnapped you from earth and forced you into servitude weeks ago.

This developed sense of smell they possessed would soon be your damnation.

You were going about your duties when you spotted him. Flanked by his entourage of warriors, The Warlord Predator was a marvel to behold, his massive and scarred frame depicting a being with monstrous strength and power. You've seen him battle at the arena and witnessed his physical prowess amongst his clan. He was truly a force to be reckoned with. You moved out of the way, providing them a wide berth, sticking as close to the wall of the cave as you waited for them to pass. You swore you felt the ground tremble with each of the yautja's languid steps, the audible scrape of his jagged cape trailing behind him.

Unbeknownst to you, you had started ovulating that morning, your female pheromones running rampant in the air and causing the nearest males of the group to glance your way. You were not aware of the physiological changes in your body, so you were oblivious to their sudden interest.

Then the Warlord Predator caught a whiff of your scent and nearly snapped his neck to look back at you. His intense stare unnerved you, your body on edge as his eyes trailed over your feminine curves in a seemingly hungry manner. Thinking you must have done something wrong, you quickly lowered your head and tried to make yourself appear as small as possible.

Your heart kicked into overdrive the second he stepped towards you. Trying to calm your breathing was difficult, your eyes widening with terror when his sharpened feet came into view and you felt the heat emitting from his body. He was like a burning furnace, your body sweating from the close proximity of the menacing male. You could hear inquisitive clicks and low rumbles from him, his curiosity evident as he tilted his head to observe you carefully.

A sudden, musky scent attacked your senses. It was a scent unlike any other, earthy and... intoxicating. Before you could question it, you felt your mind turn heady as your senses grew lax with the powerful smell. It was like a drug, your mind losing any rational thought as the scent nearly suffocated you. No longer were you tense, waiting with baited breath if he would kill you. Instead, you lay back against the jagged wall and mewled when the male pressed himself eagerly against your smaller frame. Everything felt sensitive, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You nearly choked on your saliva when you felt the hardened bulge on his loincloth dig below your chest. Inhaling deeply, you let out a weak gasp at the deliciousness of his scent and felt your body react strongly in turn. The small nub between your legs pulsated so fiercely you had to clench your thighs together to alleviate the unbearable sensation.

"W-what are... you...doing to m-me..?" You breathed out the words. You shook your head to clear your mind, only to let out a groan when he forced a knee between your legs and had you straddle his thigh. It placed your naked vulva in direct contact with his reptilian-skin, your feminine juices soaking him in your scent and making him purr with satisfaction.

The yautja glances down at your half lidded eyes and panting mouth, eyeing the strings of saliva with rapt attention before grabbing you by the neck and lifting you close to his face. He was not gentle, nearly choking you to death and causing you to squirm in discomfort. You let out a pained whine, hoping to receive some mercy as he dangled you feet above the ground. His mandibles clicked with the movements of his growling mouth, his language undecipherable to your ears. In a chilling tone, the translator around your neck lit up with his response.

"What am I not going to do with you?"

[skmhlml]

Would you do Predator (Yautja) x F!reader Nfsw 🤔

🔞 Yautja (Predator) x F!Reader NSFW Headcanons 🔞

⚠️ warning: Alien x Human intimacy (monsterf*cking), Size difference kink, Breeding kink & cum play, Rough sex/primal dynamics, Obsessive behaviors, stalking (soft yandere elements)

▾DNI divider by @cafekitsune​

🦴 He watches. Long before he ever touches you, he hunts you with his eyes. The Yautja are voyeurs by instinct— you’re studied through cloaking tech, from treetops or rooftops, tracked as if you were dangerous prey. He memorizes your scent, movements, and even the sounds you make when you’re alone. It’s obsessive.

🦴 Touch is rare among his kind— but for you? He indulges. Thick, clawed hands dwarf your body. The first time he touches your bare skin, it’s like he’s reverent. He traces over your spine like it’s some sacred map, rumbling low in his chest as your skin shivers.

🦴 Yautja are massive— upwards of 7+ feet tall, heavily muscled, and intimidating in both presence and size. You feel like prey beneath him. in the best way.

🦴 Their cock is slightly alien, knot-like at the base with a ridged shaft meant to stimulate. It secretes a slick, cooling fluid with a faint metallic tang— helps stretch you and numb your pain. They’re not built to be gentle, but your Predator wants you to survive his love.

🦴 He purrs and clicks when aroused. His inner mandibles twitch, opening and fluttering as his chest rumbles— it’s like a sound bath, meant to soothe and dominate all at once. You feel it between your legs before you realize he’s even touched you.

🦴 He takes his time— at first. His culture views sex not just as pleasure but as conquest and bonding. Expect slow, grinding thrusts that eventually ramp into full, brutal fucking. The pace he sets feels overwhelming, like you’re being asserted.

🦴 You’re often pinned. Held down by one massive hand on your back or both of your wrists in one palm. His weight is terrifying but delicious— pressing you down into pelts or the jungle floor while he ravages you.

🦴 He growls into your neck, mandibles brushing against your skin, sometimes biting just hard enough to bruise. His orgasm is violent, body shuddering, teeth grit, and he doesn’t pull out. it’s not in his instinct to share his seed.

🦴 Breeding kink to the extreme. Even if you’re human and incompatible, he doesn’t care. He wants to fill you until you’re dripping with him, over and over, like some sacred fertility rite.

🦴 Scent play- he gets addicted to the smell of your arousal. Will stuff your underwear in his gear, wear your scent proudly like a badge of honor.

🦴 He loves resistance. Not because he wants to hurt you— but because that push-and-pull triggers his hunting instincts. If you bite, scratch, or try to escape mid-act, it drives him feral. He’ll growl, chase, pin, and fuck you harder to remind you who the apex is.

🦴 Your moans make him go quiet. The louder you are, the more stunned he gets. You are soft, human, fragile— and the sounds you make when he touches you? Sacred. He’s still learning how you work, what breaks you, what makes you beg.

🦴 Pheromones go wild during sex. You’ll feel it in the air: heavy, sweet, oppressive. It gets into your lungs, your skin, your brain— clouding your thoughts until all you can do is take what he gives you and whimper his name.

🦴 If it’s a mating ritual, expect multiple rounds. He’ll knot, stay buried inside you for hours, purring and grinding lazily while you twitch and squirm under him.

🦴 He hides you. Keeps you deep in his territory or spaceship where no one else can see you. You are his mate— not a showpiece.

🦴 takes you in dangerous places: his trophy room, the jungle, mid-hunt. The thrill of someone sensing it fuels him.

[peco5bi11]

wanna turn the tables on a monster? give a human some slightly open space and a pointy stick.

you are now aware of a predator in your midst.

“You can run, but you can’t hideeeeee!” The monster chasing you calls out. But the monster doesn’t know that you are a marathon runner and so you just keep on running.