#monster hunter international

[emerald-dragonflame]

Ah, I now have 2 different versions of brain-rot: Baldur's Gate brain rot, and Monster Hunter International brain rot (then again, that second one tends to just come in waves anyway), so I thought, why not mix the two things? Thus I give you, through fae magic bullshit, Julie Shackleford and Owen Pitt in Baldur's Gate 3.

Considering I thought it would be way too easy to just keep them human and give them appropriate classes that suited their personalities, I decided this is supposed to be a "fell into a portal and now I'm in another world" kind of story-line. I thought it would be fun to play with the idea that with portal jumping came new bodies that they have to adjust to, along with the new world they'd need to explore.

Making Julie a tiefling sorceress was probably the easiest decision ever, with a +2 CHA bonus, and magic she needs to learn to control, it fit her way too well. Making Owen a brass dragonborn barbarian, however, came about because of the body horror element. Imagine waking up with one less digit on each limb, your face twisted into an unfamiliar shape, fangs spouting from your gums making it hard to speak, and your legs contorting to the point you can't walk as you used to... that's what it would be like waking up in a completely different species body, and I adore the idea of how Owen would learn to live with his new body.

Julie kinda goes through the same thing, I mean, growing a tail, horns, and fangs is also pretty messed up, but at least she still looks somewhat human. She still looks like herself.

Also, I didn't realized this until halfway through rendering this piece, that I took a lot of unintentional inspiration from @the-derpy-dragon's drakkin character Xander for Owen's design... My bad, I hope you take that more as flattery than imitation.

Anywho, enough blathering, I did a little sketch of them as humans as well to get a nice contrast of what they looked like before the portal jump.

[damemirrianofoccident]

MHI as Various Posts.

Because I'm re-reading it and I'll probably be posting a lot about it.

Owen:

Julie:

Trip:

Holly:

Harbinger:

Myers:

Franks:

[honeybadger-hibachi]

Dumb MHI memes are back

[themailedfist-blog]

Pulptober 23rd: G-Man - Special Agent Franks

More just a plug for the magnificently pulpy Monster Hunter International series, really. Special Agent Franks works for the Monster Control Bureau, sometimes foil and sometimes ally of the titular MHI organization. He’s cold, brutal, and seemingly unkillable.... and that’s about as much as I can say without venturing into primo spoiler territory. If you like big guns, big monsters, and people killing big monsters with big guns, give em a read. I started at the start with ‘Monster Hunter International’, but ‘Monster Hunter Alpha’ is also an extremely solid place to start if you just want a standalone Halloween tale. (Nemesis cover art by Alan Pollack, who does the art for all the covers I own and is a dab hand at it too)

[cursedeer]

Commission "BBQ party" for DerlikJ including GoldRathJolk ashkor_erebos and Peppurmynt from FA

|| Human OC blog || FurrAffinity || Twitter || Human OC Twitter || Non F\etish FurAffinity || BlueSky ||

[jura-san]

Rathian set (gunner, female) if you haven't seen MHG opening go watch it here, I drew this gunner lady Happy IWD!

Commissions open

ガンナーレイア装備です。GのOPに出てくるあのお姉さんです。ぬいぐるみは公式準拠。国際女性デーのうちに上げられた！やった

[dragonchildcomic]

I just finished inking this coloring page of Chase, my poor put upon elf. I am a fan of Larry Correia’s Monster Hunter book series, which portrays American elves as trailer park hicks. This is not the case for my elves, but Chase has dressed as a human to go unseen a few times. This coloring page is my tribute to Correia’s hilarious elven hicks. Enjoy.

[blaze-n-rekka]

Orchestra Concert to be held for the "Monster Hunter" 20th Anniversary

In celebration of its 20th Anniversary, a special series of orchestra concerts will be held in multiple locations around Japan including Tokyo, Fukuoka, Sapporo, and Osaka! Check it out! Ticket lottery applications for the Monster Hunter 20th Anniversary Orchestra Concert ~Big Hunting Music Festival~ will be available on Thursday, February 29, 2024 and Thursday, March 7, 2024 after registering…

[yotenotes]

queer men from my 2 night long reoccurring dream the left is olly the right is gerd.

gerd is a monster hunter and head of the security and training aspects for the department that heads the hunter academy. olly is a STEM intern who also does occasional internships in the humanities. they both work in this known university. olly hates monster hunting, since theres little science to it. its just catch or kill. thats literally it. his dynamic with gerd is mainly just workplace rivalry of some kind. he teases and annoys gerd, who in turn either gets back at him or will be annoyed. olly embarrassed him in front of his staff and to be petty in return gerd had him detained and he lost some credits (you need certain amount of them to be considered for hire in a more permanent position) and the petty aspect was to have him complete a quick demonstrative monster hunting course to get the credits. something went wrong, mainly because the instructor was negligent, and olly couldve died when he distracted the monster only to end up finding out some monsters are not just sentient but also sapient. after all that and a long discussion with gerd about what happened (and calming him down because he was mortified olly couldve died) gerd decided with olly he should see a research facility about his discovery about sapience in monsters.

cue this piece then where gerd annoyed the crap out of olly and had him do some training courses to understand self defense against monsters. normally gerd isnt on the field but because of olly he enters field to partake and make sure all goes well. all did not go well. they lost control over the situation and olly almost died, killing the monster last second which fell on him and got him all soaked in blood. here hes just cheering up gerd who needed reassurance that olly was ok (plus some flirting undertones)

[emerald-dragonflame]

Owen Pitt (Monster Hunter World)

After a couple of days playing Monster Hunter World again (and reading Monster Hunter: Fever) I really really wanted to make some crossover art of the two franchises, lol.

Ironically, despite their similar names, Monster Hunter International (the series where Owen is from) and Monster Hunter World (The world I have placed him in) are two very different I.P.s. With MHI being a more character driven book series that only pretends to be dumb action books, and MHW just being a really good "go kill that big ass fire lizard and try not to die faint to many times" game series.

So what better way to have my cake and eat it, too, than to merge the two together.

So I gave Owen the Nergigante Gamma Armor set (since I feel it fits his edgy burly badass, but not quite emo, style) and gave him the Terror Tyrannos Switch Axe. I thought that the switch axe would be a really good fit for him, it being somewhat complicated, but not as bad as the charge blade (though I do believe he would eventually switch). Due to his main weapon in Monster Hunter International being a Saiga 12 gauge auto (close range gun with a lot of ass behind it) named Abomination, I feel like he would choose a pretty close range, heavy hitting, semi-quick weapon if he were a character in Monster Hunter World. So I thought the switch axe would be a perfect fit.

At any rate, I'll quit being autistic, and hope you enjoy my take of Owen in MHW.

If you want, I'll go into more depth on how I would do a story like this, but only if y'all ask

[honeybadger-hibachi]

There is a blorbo you talk about and I don’t remember his name or where he’s from but I know he’s THERE

Forgive me for my poor memory 😭

Ah! Owen Zastava Pitt from Monster Hunter International, my absolute favorite character of all time.

I could literally talk about him for hours, but I'll spare your poor eyes.

[diejager]

Only Human

Pairing : Monster Task Force 141 x reader

Cw : canon-typical violence, bodies, death, blood, cannibalism?, wounds, trauma.

Wc : 3.2k

Note: the designs for the Monster 141 came from @bluegiragi

Only Human masterlist

When Laswell, a known figure in the Intel gathering ranks of the CIA and military, had called you for your new transfer, you were ecstatic about it. You showed up casually, still in your vest and whole attire from your deployment, you were told that Laswell was waiting for you in her office once you took your first step. You only had time to drop off your weapons in the armory before going straight to her office.

You were personally asked to join a Task Force, not another squad or team under a Captain, which you hadn't expected; an international Task Force to boot, it shocked you, even more, to have been asked to have you on a Task Force that spanned nations wide. The radar must've been wide for it to be an international one, important and specialized soldiers were probably the ones who were invited - green berets, if you guessed.

You were excited, though, to have the honour of joining specialized soldiers with only being a corporal.

"Which Task Force, ma'am?" you asked, back straight with your hands crossed behind your back.

"The 141, Hunter."

Your composure almost slipped, your mind buzzed with excitement and confusion at the notice. The 141 was a reputed group, having members from the United Kingdom to the Americas and allies in the south, around Urzikstan, and perhaps farther. They took down Major Hassan, killing the heart of Al-Qatala and weeding out traitors like General Sheperd and Graves' PMC, the Shadows. A closed group with secrets only they knew and would take to the grave, a tight-knit Task Force.

You've heard of some members, none being human. The Ghost - or Ghost - a wraith hybrid of some sort, as dangerous as he was respectable. He was the better known one, a popular topic from one's lips to the other, gossip and rumors about him being more monster than human. While some were harmless, others were made to be racists - or xenophobic in some rarer cases - most were gossip, exaggerated depictions of the man people feared and admired.

You were jumping under your skin for the day to pass faster, for your transfer to happen more quickly. You couldn't wait to meet your new teammates, you've heard good and bad things about them. Some were sociable, others shy or downright menacing to look and interact with (perhaps they specifically meant Ghost).

You've always wanted to work with monsters, the majority of the military was made up of human men and women with a low, low (around 5%) being monsters, creatures of the night that made them stronger, faster, and better than humans, but they were often hunted until the last decades.

You, however, expected that half of the Task Force was made up of humans, and the rest monsters. You were wrong, really wrong. The moment you stepped out, you realized how unfortunate - maybe fortunate to be stuck with broad, strong, and handsome men - you were to be the sole human. Perhaps it was the shock or the honour that made you freeze and shy away, but neither of them could make you feel as prepared as you should be for officially joining them.

"Welcome to the Task Force, Hunter!" Price yelled over the beating blades of the helicopter, blue eyes staring at you with a - sinful, you found it sinfully handsome - smile hidden under his beard. He also had a green tail that followed behind him, a long, strong tail, you mustn't forget that.

The first ones you talked to were Soap and Rudolfo, two jokesters within the group. Soap was cute, having almost a puppy-like excitement at meeting you with the way he greeted you, smiling and laughing boisterously. He was loud and warm when you first talked to him.

Rodolfo, or Rudy as he told you to call him (you stuck with Rodolfo, feeling too intrusive to call him by his lovely nickname), was Mexican, a special forces, just like everyone else in the TF. He was as warm as the Mexican sun, funny, and soft-spoken.

They had an accent, one a light Mexican and the other a deep Scottish slur in his words. Rudolfo incorporated Spanish words in his sentences, easily understood but adorable nonetheless. Soap's Scottish accent was thicker, deep with his jargon that you sometimes questioned if he was even speaking English.

You only found out that they were monsters when they were training outside. You watched Soap turn from under the shades, eyes keen on his rippling muscles and cracking bones. His jaw shifted, it grew longer and his ears pointed up, light brown fur sprouted from his skin and his mohawk traveled farther, turning into a mane. You could hear the whines and grunts from his transformation.

A werewolf, you learned. He had enhanced strength. He became more durable and agile. He had accelerated healing, almost ten times the speed of regular men, and his senses seemed to have heightened significantly. It looked painful, you concluded so from the bodily sounds and his moans. The heat he exhumed was searing hot, it turned the air around him into mist, burning the water in the air and turning it into gas.

Soap had heard you gasp and awe at his form, broader and taller, he towered over you when he stood on his hind legs. His eyes glowed a vibrant blue when they met yours, waiting and gauging your reaction, but he could only see awe and admiration, perhaps a dash of excitement beneath your gaping expression.

He padded towards you, lurching forward and sending you tumbling on your back as his tongue lolled to the side and hung from his panting maw. His shoulders shook, abdomen flexing rapidly, it looked like he was laughing. At your reaction, or you, you didn't know, all you had in kind wa the urge to touch him. He looked so soft.

It was ironic in some sense, for the man - now creature - who feared dogs to be a werewolf, a larger, more dangerous, and fantastical counterpart to the domesticated dog.

"Can I pet you?" the words fell from your lips before you knew it, your face flushed and your body seized in embarrassment.

Soap huffed and pushed his snout to your shoulder, lowering his head in approval. He would let you pet him, and you took it without complaint. His fur and mane were soft, maybe the softest you've ever touched (you grew up hunting with your father, you knew for as well as any other hunter). It was soft and silky, he had taken great care in his grooming.

He let out a satisfied rumble when he saw you smile, a childish wonder in your eyes. You were so captivated by Soap's looming form over you that you almost forgot about Rudolfo - keyword: almost. Something wet had nudged your elbow, you turned and saw a smaller dog, ghostly pale with glimmering, blue gems for eyes. It looked like a mix of a lab and a shepherd, the combination making this white dog adorable.

Your eyes observed the whole length of it, from its head to its tail, a long whisp-like swirl that turns blur at the end. It connected the dog to Rodolfo. You didn't know what the dog was. Was it a spirit? Or was it a familiar?

"Cadejos, Hunter," Rudolfo answered your silent question, smirking at your petting the spirit with one hand while the other scratched behind Soap's twitching ear. "Dog spirits. I'm their vessel."

That meant he was more human than Soap was, perhaps almost as you. You still gave him an awed look, amazed by the possibility of becoming a vessel for mythological beings and spirits.

You only truly found out whether or not Ghost was human or a monster on a mission. You were sent along with a team led by your Lieutenant to capture a standing AQ cell, one of the few that still stood without their leader.

You were, along with other sergeants, corporals, and privates, separated into two teams, Alpha and Bravo, one led by a sergeant and the other by Ghost. He had you follow him close, a way to watch how you did on the field. You made quick work of them, they were weak, disorganized, and fought with each other when they had no one to lead them. A pity for what used to be a big problem.

You were left on your own, Ghost having gone north to search for something. You had taken down the surviving men, pouncing on them in the dark. When you were done, you wiped your blade on your forearm, cleaning it from the iron stench of blood.

"Could've left one alive, Hunter," Ghost's deep growl made you jump, twisting to meet his dark eyes. They seemed endlessly black, like a void of darkness. "I'm bloody hungry..."

He crept closer, steps slow and purposeful, as if trying to spook you. He stopped before a fresh body, one you muffled and stabbed. The body was still warm, blood pooling from the wound and eyes glossed over with death.

"Hungry, sir?" you asked, unsure of what he meant or if he had muttered it to himself.

He hadn't replied, head turning to examine the rest of the corpses, strewn around you like a gift. A growl rumbled in his chest, mist rolling off his body like a crashing wave. It filled the area around you and tickled your feet in its cold, dark embrace. You watched the fog cover the laying corpses, dissolving and swallowing them into its murkiness.

When he meant by hungry, he actually meant eating humans, you shouldn't have been surprised, a was a wraith hybrid. Spirits of the dead that hate and haunted the living. It made more sense when he told you to let one alive, wraiths preferred living souls, dead ones were still filling but tasted lesser.

"Clean kills, " he finally spoke, his voice a timber lower than it was before his dinner. "Good job, corporal."

You nodded at him, stomach fluttering with his compliment, a praise from such a man - monster - was a prize, something he rarely gave to other soldiers. You smiled under your gaiter, you wore it for better protection in the sandy deserts of Al Mazrah.

"I'll remember leaving some alive next time, L.T."

He craned his head to look at you before he left, eyes squinted in what seemed like a smirk - devilish, you hoped - and gave you a firm nod. You scrambled to follow him, watching his broad, dark back as you walked a few steps behind him. He hadn't spoken a word to you since you got to exfil, but once you landed at the base, he motioned for you to follow him with the jerk of his wrist.

Ghost wasn't so bad if you got past the glaring image of danger he portrayed and the growls he gave. You couldn't wait to work with him again or with the others.

Gaz was a harpy, a very interesting and useful monster to have on your team. He was nice, not as chatty as Soap was, but he talked to you and smiled your way. His caramel-dipped smiles were to die for. He was easy to talk to, by far easier than your lieutenant had been at the start.

You saw him a lot in the rec room, sipping on tea or scrolling through pages on his phone. He was comfortable with you as you were with him, he let his talons out, lounging with his wings across the couch or over your lap as you cleaned them for him. The ever-so-teasing gentleman had a way with his words and his wits, often leaving you flustered or annoyed at his jabs.

Being a harpy meant he was light, bones hollow yet sturdy enough for a human body fitting his strong and slimmer frame. He could fly, and he became much more agile, more so than Soap's werewolf form (birds were naturally more graceful than canines) and he had a telescopic vision, razor-sharp and precise, more than any humans or monsters could have, it rivaled the falcon's keen sight.

If he was so light, agile, and all-seeing, without forgetting he could fly, how did he manage to fall from a helicopter not once, but twice? That question bothered you often, lingering at the back of your mind like a ghost (more so than the wraith himself that kept appearing at random and old moments behind you).

"You can fly, right?" you stared at his face, blank of any expression after finally mustering the courage to ask him.

"These wings aren't just for show, " Gaz hummed, leaning back into the chair that he brought out to watch Soap and Ghost spar. You would have your turn with the wraith after their matches.

"Then how do you manage to fall from a heli twice?" you shot, brows scrunched in a frown, confused.

His wings jerked, black feathers twitching at the reminder - an embarrassing one - of falling out, smiling sheepishly. He simply shrugged, every limb stretching, his wings lengthening to his whole span and toed talons stretching and curling. You were struck by its sharpness, his long nails and claws could cut a man in half, or completely sever a limb off.

You guess you'll never have an answer to your question, he could keep his pride and you could keep your question to yourselves. You wouldn't mind doing so, he let you preen his wings, you could touch those soft feathers and pluck dead or broken ones from his perfect plumage.

Alejandro Vargas, an unmarried and very eligible bachelor with a smooth tongue and a growl of a Mexican accent. He seemed almost too real to be true when he smiled charmingly your way, his perfect, white teeth glimmering under the yellow bulbs and his shiny, sweat-coated skin glowing golden after a mission.

Alejandro's a chivalrous person - and they said chivalry was dead - he's caring and protective. The Los Vaqueros, cowboys, were his team in Las Almas, a family that grew with every new batch of recruits and men and women devoted to the small village they grew up in. Mexicans were a tight-knit community from what you've seen in Alejandro's and Rudolfo's stories.

He was good, handsome, and strong, maybe too perfect to be human, and human, he wasn't. He's a shifter, like Soap, a full-bodied shifter from human to monster. Not unlike his human side, his Nagual side was mighty and honorable, a greater man and an even greater Nagual.

Although solitary by nature, Alejandro was a sociable character, the life of the party if he could, but he was also a responsible man. He was tall, but taller when shifted, claws sharp and a tail helped him balanced.

Once, you'd seen him shift, yellow and brown-dotted fur sprouting from his skin. His lower jaw had protruding canines, standing proudly over the ridge of his nose. He looked like a jaguar hybrid, wearing his golden fur like a crown

His other one, a panther, a jaguar born with more melanin than the usual one, was just as majestic. His fur was a darkened grey with black spots dotting his back and tail. He tended to use this form in darker places, or at night, hitting for efficiency and silence.

Captain Price, you knew he was a monster since your arrival, his long, green tail dragging behind him. You never bothered asking whether he was a lizard or a dragon, you only knew that his scaly tail was reptile-like in origin.

His smoking habit, girthy cigars burning and smoking at the edge, his chapped lips wrapped around the base of it as dark smoke leaked from the sides of his lips, curling in the air and around his beard.

Sometimes, there would be smoke without his cigar being lighted, a dry and unlit stick that still smoked. Charred gas, too dark to simply be cigar smoke. It came from him, inside, you concluded. Dragons could breathe fire and smoke, create it from within and push it out. Stirring around the mass of heat could feel overwhelming, warm, and uncomfortable without a release.

"Why cigars?" Price coccked his head, bro lifted at your question. "Helps me curb the need to burn." He breathed out another cloud, watching it swirl around his golden eyes. He explained it well and simply. Though he also liked the taste of it, an authentic, earthy texture.

Other than the occasional scales here and there that popped out, you've never seen his shift. Did he turn and grow like Soap and Alejandro? Did he change like Ghost and Gaz? Or did he have a dragon spirit? You were, albeit worried about prying, curious about your Captain's change.

Your chance appeared when he called you to his office, wanting your help with something related to his wing- wings? You weren't expecting much, maybe seeing a glimpse of the tip of his wings or the sharp edge of his horns.

He was leaning against his desk when you knocked on his door, letting you in with a sharp grunt. He was hunched over his desk, his wing, green and wide, stretched out. His bucket hat laying on his table, letting his horns grow out and curve upwards, both green and shiny. His tail was violently and anxiously swishing back and forth, hands and arms overturned with scales. His fingers turned green and callused, his nails became sharp claws and tinted green.

"You've got softer hands than any of those blokes, Hunter," Price said, his reason for calling you was for your talented hands, skilled at massages and with the knife. "Lost it in a crash, 's fine."

Although for a reason, you still got to see every part of him, hear the story behind his missing wing, and share a few pleasantries. He groans and grunts during your sessions, but the muscles on his back were less tense and strained.

Price wasn't one to brag about himself, tell his exploits to others, but yours, he did, how skilled your hands were at loosening the knots on his back and shoulders, turning them putty under your palms. Soap had come rushing, following your scent until he found you, for a massage like the one Price got.

You sighed, this wasn't what you signed up for, the sudden rush of adrenaline or scares they would cause, popping or jumping out of nowhere when you had your back turned. Some - Soap, Rudy, and Gaz - were mischievously childish, loving pranks as much as they did them. You'd get white hair before you hit your late 20s.

Fortunately, the three others were far more mature, one charming, one broody, and one proud. You don't regret joining, even with being the weakest and only human in the Task Force, the 141 was your family, a dysfunctional one with an occupational hazard, but still a little family.

After all, big, broad men working by your side on a daily had its perks, and brought a big, horny problem.

Next

[nonomives]

Some Vampire Wally AU lore I did today

(Dont judge a book by its cover btw, this isnt how Howdy and Eddie usually act in this au)

So a lil bit of infordump below:

In this AU mythical creatures interact with regular peeps on a daily basis. Theyre just people you'd see in your day to day life, but they are under extreme scrutiny due to how dangerous some mythics can get.

For this very reason, the Hunters Association was made. It's an international company that collects data about various kinds of mythics, and comissions mercenaries to either capture or kill dangerous mythics (a.k.a. monsters). While H.A. assists more on intel, and weaponry, they also, sometimes, provide manpower with their own trained soldiers, Eddie is one of them. These soldiers often work as support for mercenaries who need the extra hand in taking out monsters.

The Pillars (Howdy lmao) is one of the Association's longest standing collaborators, aiding in capturing and killing many, well known as heroes to many. Its a generational thing for family members to become monster hunters or work inside H.A. itself.

Oh! And another thing, a mythic is only labeled a monster if they commit any sort of crime, could be a single major crime (i.e. genocide) or multiple small crimes (petty theft and shuff). So yeah, mythical creatures can walk around in broad daylight and not get shot at so long as they dont have a criminal record in H.A's eyes lol--

[cursedeer]

Commissions for Agnaktor and his friends: 1) Commission "Good Helper" for Nak and Narga 2) Commission "Bonding" for Nak and Drago555

|| Human OC blog || FurrAffinity || Twitter || Human OC Twitter || Non F\etish FurAffinity || BlueSky ||

[jura-san]

Clockwork set (type 2 without wig) + Antique Machina HB Of course she knows when to use cluster bombs Happy IWD2023! Commissions open

アークロック一式（タイプ2のヅラ抜き）とオルドマキナ・HBです。ボウガンは多少体力が衰えても扱いやすそうだと思いました。そういえばエルガドに来てから拡散撃ってないな

[monsterbroth]

holy shit I’ve had a weird day but the past hour I’ve been hit with the most intense brain garbage I’ve had like maybe all year