#elder breed

[skruttet]

"[Little My] was born on Midsummer's Night and stopped growing when she was three months old, never becoming too big to get into a sewing basket. She was adopted by the Moomin family (no-one else dared) when Mymble grew tired of her little sister (their mother the elder Mymble had already left them long before to breed more babies; she loves having babies)."

[feroluce]

Thinking today of henghill on some cold planet, one like Jarilo-VI or wherever, and Dan Heng getting his tongue stuck on some metal part of Boothill's VSKJSNSJD

Like Dan Heng is stuck to his neck, so Boothill has to pick him up and carry him to try to sneak them around to somewhere warm to thaw his tongue out. Don't worry, poor Dan Heng is just tired, that's why he's carrying him like this, no no he's fine don'tlookthatcloselybye!!

(Also Boothill is carrying Dan Heng bridal style. Obviously.)

And now, I get to show you all @hydrachea 's newest blessing upon this ship, because she took that and RAN WITH IT-

Crying imagining Dan Heng still stuck and trying to throttle Boothill to keep him from talking anymore JSJIZJSKKE

[michelleotter19]

CAPRICORN ♑

[eclipseshotel]

Elder Predator dreaming about encountering one of the biggest yautja females he’s ever laid eyes on and realizes at some point during his attempts at wooing her that it’s actually me in yautja form. Before he can finish the dream, he wakes up…

[dastardlydionysus]

It's cute that you think your birth control will stop my seed, but not surprising. You are only mortal, after all.

[shinkai-kaiju]

if theres one thing im a huge sucker for, it's monster ecology. Monster hunter sometimes misses/goes for the rule of cool and "if the monster looks bad its probably dangerous and we should kill it NOW" and like. sometimes loses me. But sometimes they're fucking spot-on with designs and lore and ecological interactions.

[misshowdoyoudo]

TMNT

This came to me in a dream. TMNT: Teenage Mutant Ninja . . . Terriers

Lmao let's go

RAPHAEL:

The oldest, biggest brother. He's an Airedale Terrier, with strong arms and legs built to protect his family. He's bold, stubborn, and determined to do the right thing. He's loyal and loveable, but he doesn't like to admit it. He's got grace, but he uses his strength over his smarts or looks. He's an act first, ask questions after kind of guy.

Next Up

LEONARDO:

The middle child, along with Donatello, this good boy is an American Staffordshire Terrier. He's loyal, friendly, and trustworthy to the end. His movements are agile and graceful, with a springy gait that aids to his confidence. He likes mental and physical challenges, anything to stimulate his active mind. Regarded as a handsome breed, he takes his good looks as the most positive about him and uses it to his advantage. He's game for anything, and especially down for a sparring match in the grass.

Now, before you get mad at me, I think this one really fits, but is also the most HILARIOUS

DONATELLO:

The "egghead" middle child, Donnie is a Bull Terrier. He's witty, he likes his alone time, and he's literally got an egghead. An endearing guy, once you get to know him, and sometimes incredibly stubborn. He's got excellent balance, both physically and mentally. He likes his quality time, whether that's with his family or alone in a lab. He may have a hard time expressing himself, but he's totally devoted to his loved ones. He constantly needs something to occupy his mind and hands, whether that's a project or a fight. He could be better with change, but he's no spring flower. He's the first one to warn of danger, and will tell it loudly, most likely in the form of blaring alarms (that he designed, of course).

And last but CERTAINLY not least

MICHELANGELO:

He's the spunky, curious, and creative youngest! He's an American Hairless Terrier. Loyal and fun, he's the most outgoing of the bunch and will make friends the easiest. He may be small, but he's got enough courage to be bigger than anything! He's got a jaunty pep in his step and a trust level through the roof. He sees the good in everyone, but if you betray that trust prepare to be annihilated because he ain't holding back. He's got a good middle ground of the need to relax and the need to play, and he's willing to let the others know when it's time to take a break. He's ready for any situation, adapting to change like water through a sieve. He's the most affectionate of the family, and he's the one to initiate dog piles!

[k-im-lost]

It was a fox named Pumpkin... he shot the poor guy

I took like 7 hours on the background. I hate drawing backgrounds.

[seeks-for-knowledge]

Nix-Hounds

"My hosts were as welcoming as they could have been, but when someone nicked their finger by accident, they had to confine their pet Nixie into the shed overnight for everyone's safety. Cute fellow otherwise." - Seeks-For-Knowledge

Nix-Hounds are insectoid quadrupedal creatures native to Morrowind. They're a common sight on the road, and are often kept as pets. Their distinctive trait is their long proboscis, which they use to drain their prey of bodily fluids. Their saliva is corrosive, and if it comes in contact with skin, it might from a permanent bond with it. Nix-Hounds travel in packs, and an attack from a pack of fully grown Nix-Hounds can be dangerous. As pets, they are known to be affectionate, attentive and faithful to their owners, and are employed as trackers, watch hounds and war dogs.

Eating habits When a Nix-Hound emerges from its chrysalis, they emerge hungry, and can drain at least four similarly sized creatures per day. They feed on creatures such as baby guars, goats, kwama pupae and ash hoppers, but they might also show interest in draining small children and pets as well, so if you do have a Nix-Hound pet, you should keep a close eye on them, especially when they're young and curious.

Grooming Nix-Hounds are very clean creatures, which is a relief for pet owners. A Nix-Hound tends to spend hours cleaning itself, scraping and polishing its facial chitin and antennae with its nimble pedipalps. However, they aren't flexible enough to easily clean their abdomen and thorax. For a pet owner, it is recommended to clean their nix-hound with an oiled rag once every two weeks. Before this procedure, it is in the owner's best interests to make sure they know where a nix-hound's sensory seta and abdominal glands are, as Nix-Hounds have been known to turn aggressive if touched in the wrong place. If this does happen, giving the nix-hound a few days and a dozen buckets of meat-fluid should calm it down again.

Current state They hail from the isle of Morrowind, but since the Red Year gave a strong incentive to migrate, they have become common in Solstheim.

Traveler's advice: If you travel in the wilderness of Morrowind and hear a noise similar to a frustrated grown man uttering "augh," it is a wounded Nix-Hound. I recommend staying away, as its possible pack is likely not far.

[climbdraws]

hey uhm remember those cat lines / bases you sold for like 5 to 10 bucks? I just came across someone who colored them in and is selling them as adoptables. Is that a thing you're ok with?

yep! you can use the base for adopts so long as you credit me for the original base :)

[anghraine]

Reflecting on Opinions of Yore: I'm always torn between the inevitable "oh, ouch" of the shit I was working through at 14, 16, 23, and the "huh, I was really intense about this as a teenager and 20 years later, I am just as fixated"

[aikoiya]

Brinicle Havutslange - Official Draconology Entry Data

Class: Origin Dragon

Subclass: Havutslange

Specific Breed: Brinicle Havutslange

- Brinicle (English) = a downward-growing hollow tube of ice enclosing a plume of descending brine that is formed beneath developing sea ice. 

- Havutsikt (Norwegian) = bottom of the ocean

- Slange (Norwegian) = serpent

Elements: Water, Ice, Dragon (& maybe Light? Specifically Moonlight?)

Ailments: Waterblight, Iceblight, (maybe Dragonblight? Or Moonblight?)

Weaknesses: Dragon & Thunder

Resistances: Water (immune), Ice (resistant), Sleep (resistant), Light (immune?), & Dark (resistant)

Titles: specifically 'Queen of the Frozen Depths,' 'Arctic/Antarctic Mermaid,' 'Coldwater Queen,' & 'Bride of the Aurora' for females. For males, it's 'Triton of the Arctic/Antarctic Circle' & 'Coldwater King.'

Physiology: This is what a female looks like:

Her main body may look rainbow-y, but she's actually mostly white. Her scales just have a pearlescent sheen to them. The only parts of her main body that are colored are the lightly blue-ing parts at the ends of her tail, antenna, wing-fins, nose, & lids.

Males, on the other hand, look more like this:

The spinal headfins change direction based on male or female, becoming a sort of pseudo veil for females & more in line with typical spinal fins for males. The male's fins still retain a bit of betta-ness to them, but not as overtly so as with the females.

You see, females' appear more beautiful & veil-like, with more of an aurora coloration to them than males so as to attract a mate.

Males, on the other hand, tend to grow Eastern Dragon-like whiskers. The longer a Havutslange's whiskers or 'antenna,' the older they are.

The coloration varies depending on whether they live in the Arctic or Antarctic oceans & further still, on the individual subject.

Abilities: Sleep

Behavior: Amphibious in nature, but breeds like any other dragon, just underwater or on a beach or in a water cave.

Tends to live in underwater caves. Whether they have air pockets is optional.

Rediculously fast in water. Like super freaking fast. Females aren't quite as fast as males as their fins are less utilitarian than the male's. Despite this, females are still incredibly fast.

The female's fins are far bigger, more ornate, flowing, & betta-like in appearance, that plus their fins' aurora-like coloration help her to look desirable when performing her mating dance underwater. Kind of doing a sort of fan dance with her tail in dragonus form, but more of a veil/fan fusion dance in draconian or dracolithe form.

Tends to lay medium-sized clutches of 5-7 eggs every hundred or so years. The eggs have qualities of both reptiles & coldwater fish as opposed to live birth like dolphins or certain breeds of snake.

Both males & females have a slight poison quality to them, but in different ways. They have venom sacks in their cheeks which gives them a poison bite.

However, females, because they aren't as strong or quick, they also have poison quills hidden in the spines of their tail fins so that, if she's being chased by a predator, she can strike them with her tail.

A Havutslange's venom is highly soporific in nature rather than directly lethal. However, if enough is injected, it will put the target into a sleep so deep that it paralyzes their ability to breathe & they'll suffocate in their sleep.

Because they are immune to their own venom, this gives them a higher resistance to Dragonsbane. Not enough to keep them from falling into a coma & needing an antidote to wake them, but enough to not die without treatment. This is a quality unique to Havutslanges, Somnacanths, & other dragons with soporific venom.

They have something similar to a whale call & can often be found in pods on full moon nights singing to the sky, especially on aurora-filled nights. It's a very haunting, soulful sound. Similarly, merfolk tend to join them. The harmonizing is lovely. However, this time is considered very sacred & both Havutslanges & mers will attack any uninvited guests. Which, you can get invited, but only if you're like best friends with an attendee. They don't mind if you sing along too & even encourage it, even if you have a terrible singing voice.

It actually wasn't uncommon for mers or Altantians & Havutslanges to mate & it still isn't, as deep sea-dwelling dragons are some of the only species of dragons out there still thriving to this day. Sea dragons are also highly revered in mer & Atlantian culture.

I mean, it isn't as if sea dragons need to come up to the surface & it took until the invention of the submarine for humans to be able to really begin exploring the oceans. Even now, humans as a species know more about distant planets than their own oceans.

Has a long, thin, but strong tongue that reaches a full foot past it's lips & ends in a point. It's very prehensile. Useful for scooping out the innards of shellfish. Especially enjoys oysters & abalones as they oftentimes also come with pearls & lovely shells, so they're the equivalent to a very high-end cereal box or happy meal with a very sparkly toy inside. (Shark & Killer Whale are also favorites of theirs.)

Male Havutslanges will often collect many oysters & try to nurture high quality pearls from them, the more scholarly ones even going so far as to breed specific colors. When enough is harvested, they will then string the pearls together into a necklace, crown, or bracelet & present it to a prospective mate who has previously shown interest. If she accepts, then they are to mate on the next second full moon of a month or 'blue moon' as it's colloquially called. The moon holds great significance to both Havutslanges, Somnacanths, merfolk, & Atlantians as the moon controls the tides & currents, so they worship her as a goddess. The females will then wear the pearls to show that she is mated.

It is generally expected that males breed these pearls the hard way as doing so shows dedication. However, this also means that the courting process can take a while. Females have keen eyes & sharp minds, so if they suspect that the male might've taken magical shortcuts, then it all depends on what qualities the individual female finds most valuable. Whether hardwork & dedication, or resourcefulness, & intelligence, or magical prowess.

A similar practice was later taken up by merfolk & even Atlanteans to a degree. A pearl necklace becoming the equivalent of a wedding ring in the waterfolks' cultures. In the case of merfolk, if the maiden accepts, she will often cry & gift one of her tears to her new husband to be to be worn around the neck. Meanwhile, she will fasten another to the necklace he gifted her.

This is done because Mermaid Tears are known to change one's fate. So, gifting one to your love while keeping the other or outright exchanging them is said to entwine the 2's destinies.

Havutslanges like to collect the treasure of sunken ships.

While a Havutslange's wings are more finlike, thus incapable of true flight, they are able to emerge from the water & glide like flying fish. Will often do this to munch on waterbirds as they fly by.

Habitat: Arctic & Antarctic oceans as well as the seas around norther Europe, though the breeds/variations/colorations that live in these oceans are different based on north or south.

Random factoids: regular Havutslanges are called the 'Mother or Father of Somnacanths' depending on the sex.

All members of the Havutslanges class of dragon have an ability similar to Suicune's that allows them to purify toxins in water. It's just much more slow going than Suicune was portrayed with.

[queercriptid]

🕴

[msb-lair]

Dragon: Lucian - Wildclaw Male

First Record Second Record

(Smirch scroll applied on 2024-04-08)

Purchased For: 950,000 treasure Hatched On: 2013-11-05 ID: 1205178

Parentage: Quateara/Citroen Flight: Lightning

Primary: Grey Tiger Secondary: Navy Shimmer Tertiary: Goldenrod Basic Smirch Eyes: Common

Comments: Time to start a new scatterscroll project, as the previous one hit tree colours I'm willing to work with last Monday, and is now lounging in hibernal waiting on a new breed to come along. Found this first-two-million-dragons guy going at a price I was willing to pay. He's continuing the ongoing tradition of most of my scatterscoll projects needing smirch thrown at them so I can see the tertiary colour.

May keep him as a wildclaw after he rolls colours I like; I have very few of them and am currently trying to increase my percentage of modern dragon breeds.

Lucian is the name he came with.

Scatterscroll #28 (2024-11-04): Tomato-Ivory-LavenderOriginal Colours: Grey-Navy-Goldenrod Scatterscroll #1 (2024-04-08): Garnet-Jungle-Oilslick Scatterscroll #2 (2024-04-15): Raspberry-Eggplant-Cantaloupe Scatterscroll #3 (2024-04-22): Cinnamon-Red-Periwinkle Scatterscroll #4 (2024-04-29): Shale-Ivory-Jungle Scatterscroll #5 (2024-05-06): Amber-Tarnish-Crimson Scatterscroll #6 (2024-05-13): Carrot-Mint-Pear Scatterscroll #7 (2024-05-20): Aqua-Overcast-Sky Scatterscroll #8 (2024-05-27): Moss-Bubblegum-Algae Scatterscroll #9 (2024-06-03): Buttercup-Ruby-White Scatterscroll #10 (2024-06-10): Smoke-Antique-Chartreuse Scatterscroll #11 (2024-06-17): Pink-Sand-Berry Scatterscroll #12 (2024-06-24): Slate-Marigold-Clay Scatterscroll #13 (2024-07-01): Latte-Navy-Brown Scatterscroll #14 (2024-07-08): Denim-Buttercup-Tarnish Scatterscroll #15 (2024-07-15): Plum-Cornflower-Leaf Scatterscroll #16 (2024-07-22): Maroon-Obsidian-Thistle Scatterscroll #17 (2024-07-29): Cerulean-Abyss-Garnet Scatterscroll #18 (2024-08-05): Shadow-Chocolate-Buttercup Scatterscroll #19 (2024-08-14): Teal-Orange-Lemon Scatterscroll #20 (2024-08-21): Cream-Moss-Red Scatterscroll #21 (2024-09-02): Mantis-Peach-Metals Scatterscroll #22 (2024-09-16): Terracotta-Platinum-Silver Scatterscroll #23 (2024-09-24): Orchid-Honey-Mint Scatterscroll #24 (2024-10-08): Indigo-Platinum-Swamp Scatterscroll #25 (2024-10-14): Gold-Spruce-Magenta Scatterscroll #26 (2024-10-21): Banana-Dirt-Crimson Scatterscroll #27 (2024-10-28): Smoke-Lead-Terracotta Scatterscroll #28 (2024-11-04): Tomato-Ivory-Lavender Scatterscroll #29 (2024-11-11): Mist-Tangerine-Sunshine Scatterscroll #30 (2024-11-18): Tangerine-Olive-Grapefruit Scatterscroll #31 (2024-11-25): Fern-Umber-Flint

Apparel: TBD

Familiar: Mith Loremaster

Progeny Testing: 

N/A

Broods: 

[tiredsystem-r-us]

Hehehehehe

Someday

Someday I shall get a similar photo set of my own dog 😈😂

The duality of nature

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅴ▬ ⁽ 𝑜𝓇𝒸 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₅˖₇ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW,  explicit content, teratophilia, orc/royalty!human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, breeding, spit kink, sloppy kisses, size difference, somnophilia, slight voyeurism, orcish, reader loses all forms of etiquette and just babbles-- stupidly, belly bulge. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: as royalty it's your duty to marry and provide heirs for the kingdom, however, your parents have a different plan for you.

꒰m!orc ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

 𝐹or as long as you can remember, you have been allured by the forbidden. Whenever your parents commanded you to abstain from a certain act or sternly prohibited you from engaging in another, it ignited a fervor within your being. And inevitably, you succumbed to its allure.

Your relationship with your parents was not a harmonious one. From the time you were but a child, they made it abundantly clear that you were not conceived out of their love for one another, but rather out of an obligation to the throne. To them, you were an inconvenience, a mere hindrance that they longed to be rid of. Thus, you existed in a perpetual state of unease, forever uncertain of their next move.

The castle bustled with activity this week, the number of knights seemed to have multiplied, and your encounters with your parents grew scarce. Your daily meals together became non-existent- not that you were complaining. Instead, during supper, they scorned and mocked you—drawing comparisons to your elder cousin who had recently become betrothed to a Duke. You were aware that they would arrange a marriage for you; it was inevitable, but you hoped it would be to someone who would eventually cherish you as you would them.

Verily, this day seemed naught but a replica of the day prior—a day draped in melancholy. The heavens were adorned with clouds of a somber ashy hue, obscuring the radiant sun in its entirety, and permitting but a scant ray of light to penetrate. You lay sprawled on your bed; the clamor from beyond your door kept you from getting any sleep, so you opt to lay there, eyes shut and breathing even.

The two hefty thuds at your door jolt you awake, your eyes snapping to the entrance. A servant girl stood there, her gaze piercing, and her upper lip curled in a sneer. "The King and Queen request your presence for a meal in the dining chamber."

You release a heavy sigh and nod. "Yes, I shall join them shortly, Nadia." she scoffs and closes the door with a soft thud. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you rose from your bed, slipping into your shoes with a sense of resignation. Hastily, you arranged your disheveled hair and adjusted your attire in the mirror, preparing yourself for the impending encounter. Finally, summoning your resolve, you embarked on the descent towards the dining hall.

 Your stomach churns uncomfortably as you motion towards the knights, fingers twisting nervously as they swing open the heavy oak doors. Stepping into the chamber, you swiftly bow and linger there for a moment, awaiting permission to be seated. "Hail to the Sun and Moon of the realm." Your sire grunts and gestures for you to take a seat; you release a shaky breath and settle across from your mother, who pays you no mind.

Within the dining hall, a profound stillness prevails, accompanied solely by the gentle clatter of utensils upon porcelain plates. You dare to disrupt the silence, your heart constricting within your breast, burdened by your uneasiness. " Pray tell, have I heard true? Have the demons breached the borders, causing mayhem? Is that why the ranks of the noble knights have swelled in recent days?"

The older man looks up from his meal, steely eyes on your face. "I did not deem you astute enough to discern matters of such nature, but aye, it is true. The Orcs shall breach the barrier if we do not do something. The knights from Tvatian shall not grace us with their presence for a week's time, yet our defenses wane with each passing moment."

The sound of your mother's throat being cleared reverberates through the air, abruptly drawing your eyes towards her. "You shall soon attain the age of twenty, my dear. Do you have any intentions of entering into wedlock?" Her voice possesses a cloying sweetness, signifying her ulterior motives; she is forever scheming. As you carefully place your knife and fork on the table, you grant her your undivided focus. "Aye, mother," you reply, your words tinged with a touch of uncertainty.

With a disapproving click of her tongue, she gracefully lifted her goblet to her lips, attempting to conceal the mischievous grin that flickered across her features. "Verily, a little bird has whispered in my ear that Orcs take pleasure in having humans as mere playthings, using them as harlots and passing them amongst themselves. How dreadful."

 Your hands clench beneath the table, and you struggle to suppress the bile that threatens to rise. Your heart thumps sporadically in your chest, almost painfully. What is she implying? "Pray tell, what is the essence of your words?"

"The royal family's expectations are not to be taken lightly, my child. If you persist in shirking your responsibilities by avoiding marriage and offspring, alternative measures must be considered. You shall be delivered to the head Orc at the border; mayhap that will pacify them until the Tavatian knights arrive." Your father had spoken this time, causing you to swiftly turn your gaze towards him. Tears welled up in your eyes, and a soft laughter escaped your lips. "Pray, father, assure me that you jest."

The answer lies within his silence. Your hands collide with the table, your head sways vehemently from side to side. "Nay, nay! You shall not subject me to this. What offense have I caused thee? I have obeyed all your commands unquestioningly, and you are planning to— Nay, I shall not proceed."

As the succulent salmon dances on her fork, your mother's laughter fills the air, resonating with a warmth that belies the gravity of her words. "My dear child, you find yourself bereft of options. You shall be deemed a traitor to the noble lineage and condemned to perish before your very birthday." A lump lodges itself in your throat, and tears stream down your face, as you rue the moment you stepped out of your room. "For what reason do you bear such animosity towards me?"

"Escort her back to her chamber; she's giving me indigestion," your mother states with a grimace.  The knights pause briefly, uncertain of how to guide you away. Dismissing them with a wave of your hand, you rise from your chair and exit the chamber, tears clouding your sight. The journey back is unsettling, with the maids gossiping and gesturing, their disdain evident on their faces, and their disapproving gazes following you.

The door is forcefully slammed shut behind you, and with great urgency, your feet carry you to your bed, where you collapse with a heavy sigh. Almost immediately, your pillow becomes saturated with the tears that pour forth, and you huddle into yourself, simply becoming smaller. 

  Indeed, you knew this would occur eventually, but you hadn't thought you would be handed over to some hideous monster who would likely slay you upon arrival. Violent sobs wrack your body, shaking you to the core, while your nose runs uncontrollably, the pillow muffles a scream of agony.

After half an hour had passed, you lay there, sleep welcoming you with warm arms. The answer to this puzzle would reveal itself upon your awakening.

—

Woken by the sound of shuffling, faint whispers, and delicate clinks, you remain motionless, filled with trepidation, and unwilling to stir from your position. You quickly clench your eyes shut upon hearing the intruder approach. As much as you desired to confront them, you were also intrigued to uncover their intentions within your room.

"Seize her limbs; we must transport her to the dungeon." In an instant, your heart falters, trembling fiercely, and for a moment, your breath is held captive. As your eyes snap open, the ceiling of your chamber looms above you. Swiftly, you strike at the person nearest to you, expressing gratitude to the gods as you hear their curse.

Emerging hastily from the confines of your bed, you sprint towards the exit, a shrill cry escaping your lips as a hand clutches your ankle. You descend abruptly, your chin colliding with the cold marble beneath, silently expressing gratitude for the prudent act of placing your tongue against the roof of your mouth in the final moments.

   Swiftly flipping over, you kick frantically, tears streaming down your face as your legs are forcefully spread apart, and the assailant inserts themselves between your thighs, seizing hold of your arms.

Your vision blurs as a heavy slap is brought across your face. The brief respite from your struggle grants the assailants the opportunity to lay a cloth upon your nostrils. Your eyes flutter shut, darkness casting a shadow upon your vision. The feel of your body being lifted is the only thing you remember.

Within the confines of the cell, you find yourself in a state of contemplation, your head gently leaning against the cold metal bars. The sharp sound of heels striking the ground causes you to straighten up. The passage of time remains elusive, yet the atmosphere hints at the arrival of a new day, shrouded in the quiet of dawn.

Your mother's face came into view, causing you to sneer in disdain as you buried your head in your knees, refusing to meet her gaze. The very sound of her voice sent shivers down your spine, igniting a mixture of anger and sorrow within you. She callously auctioned you off, displaying a complete lack of concern for your well-being.

"I reckoned it would be preferable for you to don your best attire, but it would be futile. A watchman shall be present shortly to guide you to the border, make no disturbance, do you understand? 'Twould be unsightly if you do."

You ignore her, but deep down, you are filled with dread to venture towards the border. You longed to weep and plead with her to refrain from sending you, but it would only wound your pride. Instead, she smiles and draws nigh unto the prison bars. "When we emerge victorious in this war, and if you are still breathing, I shall dispatch you to a brothel. I couldn't possibly have such a defiled child. Revel in your sojourn there, my dear."

The clatter-clack of her footwear slowly vanishing into the distance brings forth a torrent of tears. Why must this befall you? What sin have you committed to warrant such treatment? The jingle-jangle of keys catches your attention; the guard stands before you with a look of pity. "Your majesty, the time has arrived."

You nod in a pitiful manner and rise from the ground, using your soiled hands to dry your tears, leaving traces of dirt on your cheeks. As you draw near to the guard,  he pulls down his sleeve and tenderly wipes your cheeks with a sympathetic smile. You bow softly in gratitude and proceed to walk with him to the carriage.

He assists you inside and closes the door; a click prompts you to peer through the tiny gap. A lock secures the door; as you lock eyes with the guard, he merely sighs and shakes his head. "The Queen has requested this. I beg your pardon, Your Majesty." 

  You remain silent, leaning back in the seat and staring blankly at the castle. You see your father standing at his office window, observing. You avoid his gaze, curling up in the seat. Then, as the carriage sets in motion, your heart swells, and tears flow.

The carriage's abrupt jolt awakens you from your nap; the sun is just beginning to descend, signaling the end of a day filled with endless riding. The only noise is the steady trot of the horses and the occasional whisper of the soldiers. Have you arrived already? You swallow nervously and flinch as the door is forcefully opened. "We have arrived, your highness."

You nod and sit up, clasping his hand to disembark from the carriage. Your eyes swiftly survey the surroundings. Despite the tales, the border seemed relatively serene. You couldn't hear anything from beyond the wall. At length, a throat is cleared,  causing you to look up, and the guard beckons you along. You hesitate for only a moment before fortifying your resolve and walking forward.

After much anticipation, the distant voices grow more distinct. "Captain, 'tis here! Shall we unseal the gates?" The clamor of the ponderous wheels turning and ascending is loud in your ears. The gate opens enough to allow your passage beneath. They weren't wasting time at all. The guard places a hand on your lower back and pushes you forward gently. "The Orc General has agreed to receive you; he's on the other side waiting."

You suppress the lump in your throat and proceed, every gaze fixed upon you. The wall loomed thick and intimidating,  and you couldn't shake off the fear of it collapsing on you as you reached the other side. However, as you eventually crossed over, your gaze locked with his.

Standing tall at a minimum of 9 feet, he possessed a powerful build adorned with thick muscles, and hair decorating his chest. Dark brown hair cascaded down to his waist woven into an intricate braid, contrasting against his pear-colored complexion and a thick beard enveloped his jaw. Scars crisscrossed his body, enhancing his rugged charm.  Despite his blunt tusks, one of which was slightly chipped, there was no denying the outrageous attractiveness of this Orc.

As he takes a step forward, an instinctual reflex compels you to retreat, a shiver of trepidation coursing through your being. Your legs, heavy as if forged from lead, refuse to heed your desperate plea for escape. A subtle chuckle escapes his lips, the corners curling upwards in a smug grin. "Time is not a luxury I possess, little human," he mocks, his voice dripping with impatience. 

  You part your lips to utter a response, but only silence greets your futile attempt. The resounding thud of the closing wall seals your grim destiny, causing your weakened knees to buckle beneath you, surrendering to the tender embrace of the grassy ground. With a deep sigh, he strides towards you, casting a towering shadow over your slumped figure, a chilling reminder of his overpowering presence.

With utmost ease, he effortlessly lifts you, as if you were as light as a feather. Your body tenses in his embrace, a mixture of vulnerability and anticipation. The tears well up, threatening to spill over. Surprisingly, his touch is tender, his hands delicately traversing your legs and back. Summoning your courage, you manage to muster a question, your voice trembling slightly. 

  "Might I inquire about your name?"  Despite your hesitant speech, he pays no mind, his voice resonating with a deep timber that sends a surge of desire coursing through your veins. A flush of warmth spreads across your face, compelling you to avert your gaze and focus on your lap. "I am Loran, the General of the Mammoth Clan."

Silence envelops the air for a fleeting moment before your voice breaks through once more. "My name is (Name)" He acknowledges your introduction with a subtle hum, and together, you navigate through the labyrinthine paths until you arrive at a large tent. With utmost care, he settles you upon a sumptuous bed adorned with furs, then proceeds to position himself near a table, obscuring its contents from your prying eyes. 

  A knot tightens in your throat as you summon the courage to voice your deepest fear. "Might you have intentions of devouring me?" you whisper, recoiling at the childlike vulnerability that tinges on your words.

His laughter causes a flutter in your chest; every aspect of him leaves your insides twisted. At last, he ceases his actions and pivots to meet your gaze, his arms folded. You had to physically remind yourself to avert your eyes from his well-defined muscles. "Would you like me to?" His voice carries a teasing lilt, yet his words hint at something more intimate.

You shake your head in denial and draw your knees closer to your body. He was nothing like the figure you had imagined; you were convinced that your life would have ended by now. Your gaze wanders aimlessly as you delve into your own musings. Unbeknownst to you, he crouches down before you. The calloused tips of his fingers grazing your chin send a shiver down your spine. Your eyes meet his, and you find yourself holding your breath.

"The hour grows late; retire for the night. "

 You offer a silent nod, watching him leave the tent. Following his guidance, you settle back onto the furs. After the tumultuous events of the day, slumber swiftly envelops you, embracing the plush comfort of the bedding.

The warmth seeping into your skin prompts you to wriggle out of the furs. The weight of an arm flung over your stomach arrests you, dread settling in your heart and coiling around it like a vice. Though yesterday's events come rushing back to you and you relax, your tense body melting into Loran's embrace.  

  Despite the circumstances that brought you here, he had shown nothing but kindness, even playfulness - he didin't really make you uneasy, and it seemed as though a burden had been lifted from your shoulders.

In the realm of uncertainty, his actions remained capricious, yet amidst this unpredictability, a newfound liberation enveloped your being, you were free. Loran, with an irresistible allure, draws you nearer, your bodies melding as your front meets his. You place your hands on his chest and gently create distance, huffing as he cuddles closer.

After struggling a bit more, you come to a stop and seize the opportunity to examine him closely. Withdrawing your hand from his chest, you gently place it on his cheek, relishing its velvety texture. Loran possessed a striking appearance. Tracing your fingers along his lips, the sensation of his tusks lightly brushing against your fingertips captivates you once more. Their smoothness leaves you mesmerized. The rounded tips are gentle and harmless; they would not cause any discomfort if you were to share a kiss.

 Blushing with embarrassment, your cheeks turn a rosy hue, and for a fleeting moment, you seek solace by burying your face into his chest. Raising your gaze once more, you cautiously wave your hand before his face, ensuring his continued slumber. With no signs of movement and a steady rhythm of breath, a sigh of relief escapes your lips. 

  Gradually, you shift your position, ascending along his form, while your heart flutters nervously within your chest. With a mixture of fascination and unease, you lean closer, drawn to an inexplicable magnetism emanating from him. His lips, so alluring, entice you irresistibly.

 Placing your hand on his cheek, you lean in with deliberate slowness, capturing his lips with yours. The sensation of his tusks grazing your skin sends a rush of pleasure up your spine. With closed eyes, you deepen the kiss, savoring the unexpected softness of his lips. His taste is intoxicating, akin to a forbidden elixir. You have always been drawn to forbidden pleasures.

With a hint of reluctance, you retreat, allowing your eyes to slowly unveil the world around you. A startled gasp escapes your lips as your gaze meets Loran's. Despite your endeavors to break free from his embrace, his arms encase you like unyielding steel, entrapping you. Loran's chuckle resonates with a profound and drowsy timbre, while his hand ascends to firmly grasp your chin. "Do not flee from me, Sma ni." ( little one )

His lips are on yours, gentle and governing. His other hand gripping your waist and quickly lifting you onto his chest. The sensation of his thick and moist tongue overpowering your mouth elicits a fervent moan from deep within you, while your thighs instinctively clasp around his stomach. As his hands glide up your top, the pads of his fingers diligently work out the tension in your soft skin. Gradually, they find their way to your hips, expertly guiding them to grind against his abdomen.

With a soft whine escaping your mouth, you break the connection of his kiss, and your tongue lazily protrudes, leaving a trail of warm saliva on your chin. A primal growl resonates from deep within his chest, causing your thoughts to blur. Your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, the rough hair gently tickling your palms. The pressure on your hips eases, and his hand tightly grasps your hair, enabling him to sit up and halt the rhythmic grind of your hips.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as the throbbing sensation between your thighs intensifies.  Loran's lips trail along the curve of your throat, delicately nibbling at your tender skin, while his tongue glides with ease. Suddenly, a tearing sound startles you and a rush of cool air caresses your newly bared legs. The remnants of your shredded trousers gracefully descend to the floor, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

Upon the velvety fur, Loran tenderly positions you, his voracious eyes meticulously exploring the expanse of your body. In a swift motion, he removes the sole obstruction that conceals your body, leaving you vulnerable to his cravings. You clench your thighs, your pussy pulsating with emptiness. This man was sinful; he looked so delectable, his lips shimmering with the remnants of your passionate kisses, and his complexion adorned with a captivating flush.

He lets out a deep groan, settling himself amidst your thighs, the ache in your legs a mere whisper compared to the intensity of his touch, tongue dancing over your nipples, nipping and tugging. Loran's hand travels up your body, his thick fingers entering your warm, wet mouth. You suppress a gag and suck on them shyly, tears welling up in your eyes. As his fingers delve deeper into your throat, you grasp his wrist firmly, your hips grinding against his thick bulge.

Loran pulls his fingers from your mouth, watching the rivulets of saliva drip down his digits. Leaving a glistening trail of moisture along your body, Loran delicately caresses his fingers through the soft curls of hair on your pussy, teasing you with the soft touch of his fingertips. With deliberate precision, he gradually eases one digit into the confines of your snug entrance stretching you. You pull your fleshy bottom lip into your mouth, teeth digging painfully. Your lashes flutter, exposing the whites of your eyes as they roll back in blissful surrender, eyebrows arching. Your mewls are soft and pleading. "Mmph! L-Loran. Please "

Your voice is a siren's call to him, as you whimper and plead for him. His desire to possess you completely, to fuck you full of his cum, to have you swollen with his young, consumes him. The mere thought of it almost brings him to the brink of release. Granting mercy upon your adorable, fucked out face, he finally sinks his finger into your cunt, relishing the exquisite tightness that embraces him, while your delicate hands clutch his braid and tug.

  With his other hand, he gently cups your cheeks between his large, powerful fingers, causing your lips to pucker. His mouth descends upon yours, messy and dominating, leaving a trail of mingled saliva that pools down your flushed cheeks. He chuckles as your eyes wander elsewhere, glazed and hazy with pleasure as he eases a single finger inside you.

A high-pitched sound escapes your lips as he expertly probes a sensitive spot deep within you, causing your hips to tremble and your inner walls to clench around his fingers. Leaning closer, his warm breath brushes against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Ayh lat naka ve cum, sma shara? " His mother tongue is foreign to you, but it sounds absolutely erotic, especially while he's stroking your drooling pussy skillfully. You shudder fervently, emitting mewls and whimpers, as the squelching noises of his thrusts fill the confined space of the tent. “I—uhn~ w-wait p-please, Lor…” You babble nonsensically. ( are you going to cum, little human? )

 Loran, in a teasing mood, complies with your dumb prattling, and moves away from you, fingers slipping out with an erotic pop. A soft whimper escapes your lips, your lower lip jutting out in a pout as tears well up in your eyes from the empty feeling in your pussy, your eyes widen at seeing him suck on his dampened fingers. “N-no, why’d you stop!” 

 With a chuckle, the Orc leans in to press a tender kiss on your flushed cheeks, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I simply did as you asked, Faushnu," he whispers. Pulling back slightly, he studies your expression - your eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, and your chest rising and falling rapidly. "I did not mean for this," you whimper, grinding your hips against his growing bulge. “M-more. Give me more.” You give him a stern glare, that only turns him on more, his little hostage was so demanding. ( baby ) "Of course, Your Highness," he says, his tone dripping with playful mockery. Loran's large hands firmly grasp your waist, swiftly maneuvering you onto your stomach. With a gentle yet commanding motion, he elevates your hips, causing your face to be buried in the soft furs beneath you. The sensation is almost agonizing as your back arches, eliciting a sharp squeal from your lips. A glob of warm saliva unexpectedly lands on your moistened pussy, causing an involuntary clenching reaction. "What are yo--?" 

  Before you can finish, the sudden roughness of his tongue against your throbbing cunt has you seeing stars. His feral growls reverberate through the air, as his tongue delves and ravishes you with an insatiable fervor. Reduced to a whimpering wreck, tears of rapturous delight cascade down your flushed face.  Desperate to regain control, you weakly press your small hand against the crown of his head, attempting to halt the relentless onslaught. "No more, please, m'gunna cum. Want to cum for you," you manage to slur amidst incoherent babbling, your words a contradictory mix. 

Loran, enraptured by your musings, fingers your pussy once again, effortlessly finding that spongey nerve inside of you and deftly curling his thick finger into it, time and again. A torrent of scorching pleasure engulfs your entire being, as you succumb to an intense climax, your trembling thighs embracing his head while your pussy flutters around his finger.

" Loran! "You slur, thighs still convulsing as the feel of Loran's hands on the fat of your hips seems multiplied, your mind filled with goo. The rustle of fabric falling to the ground barely registers before his thick cock presses into your pussy, hands guiding your hips onto him. Warmth trickles onto your pulsing cunt, his saliva lubing where you connect. You clench around him, emitting obscene moans. 

   He delves deeper, your snugness yielding to his thick, heavy cock. You swear you can feel every pulsating vein, every ridge of him inside of you. You whimper and whine when he fucks half of his big cock into your tiny little hole, and you thrash and let out small mewls of pleasure. "Mmph, Lor--!! it won't fit!" you whimper amidst sobs. 

"Hm?" He utters, his voice a low hum, as he observes with rapt attention as you stretch around his green, monstrous cock. The pressure within your abdomen steadily intensifies, inch by inch, until Loran thrusts in the last couple of inches, his large balls flush against your engorged clit. You're already fucked stupid, pupils blown, and moans strewing from your lips. The Orc takes hold of your hand, guiding it towards your stomach, allowing you to feel the undeniable presence of his shaft protruding from your belly. "Do you feel me? Feel my cock in your insides, my little human?"

With a forceful motion, he retreats, then thrusts forcefully into you, his grip tightening on your hair as he pulls.  A fervent moan escapes your lips, as the resounding collision of his hips against your ass fills the air, the only thing you can hear. The wet squelching of your arousal intermingles with his precum, cascading onto the opulent furs beneath you. His name becomes a sacred mantra, slipping from your tongue like a fervent prayer. "S'good, m'gunna cum, let me cum, please, please."

With a gentle caress, Loran's hand ascends your stomach, pinching your sensitive nipples. You mewl, back arching as you clench and pulse around his thick length, cumming harder than before, a wave of darkness gently tinting your vision. A low, guttural moan reverberates from deep within you, harmonizing with Loran's unyielding thrusts. “That's a good fuckin’ girl.”

The Orc's hand comes down on your ass, observing the quivering flesh. Your violated hole trembles around Loran's thick length, and he snickers, his hips stuttering. "You're mine. Hm? Do you understand, pet?" His thrusts became more profound, faster, not giving you rest, groaning as you nod quickly, whimpering.

You turn your gaze towards him, his fingers constricting in your tresses. "Loran, want you to cum inside me, please." Your feeble arms emerge from beneath your form, delicate hands reaching to spread your pussy wider. "You will, right?"

 Your wanton plea hurls the massive Orc over the brink. Loran's hips slam into yours once more as his scorching cum coats your walls; the copious amount of it had you cumming once more. Loran continues to pump his seed into you, his cock still hard and balls full of cum. He longed to see you swollen with his offspring; he wouldn't stop until he knew you were trapped with him.

You are not permitted to rest until the early morning, curled against his chest with his seed leaking from your stretched opening. Your body is tender, marked with bruises on your neck and chest. Loran places his large hand on your cheek; although he is running late for the meeting, he decides to allow you more time to sleep.

He lifts you gently, thankful that he has cleaned you up and changed the bedding. You snuggle into his warmth, almost convincing him to delay for another hour. "My zemar, it's time to wake up. We must rise before the sun sets." (my heart)

Stirring in his arms, your eyelashes flutter before you slowly open your bleary eyes. Attempting to close them once more, his hearty chuckle resonates, partially rousing you. Placing you gently on the bed, he drapes one of his shirts over you, guiding your arms through the sleeves. Loran picks you up again, cradling you as he carries you out of the tent, shielding your eyes from the glaring sun. The short walk to the other side of the campsite goes unnoticed by you.

He arrives promptly, his raven perched gracefully on its stand. A soft whistle escapes his lips, a signal for the bird to gather the troops. Loran takes his place at the head of the table, positioning you to face him, your legs wrapped around his waist. With spit on his fingers, he traces circles around your cunt, pleased that it had returned to its original state, tight and warm. After lubricating your entrance, he spits on his palm and wraps his member in a firm grip, ensuring that it's slick. 

  Loran aligns himself with your little hole and eases inside, emitting a deep groan at the vice grip; you let out a sleepy moan, tightening around him. His large hands grip the fat of your hips, guiding you down the rest of his thick length. He pulls his shirt over your ass, concealing where his cock is nestled inside of you.

He has to stop himself from fucking you on the table in front of all his tribe members. Once he had you in the perfect position, his soldiers began to file into the room. He couldn't help but notice how your warm, tight hole was becoming slick. Unbeknownst to you, his thick cock was already buried deep within you.

The meeting unfolds seamlessly. With nightfall as their ally, they conspire to dismantle the impenetrable walls of the Kingdom on the morrow. A sacred covenant governs The Mammoth Clan, dictating that the fairer sex and the innocent offspring shall be spared from any affliction. Thus, the innocent shall be granted mercy and protection.

Awakening towards the end, your pussy pulsating and enveloping something thick and long. A twitching motion stirs inside you, nudging your G-spot. A soft moan escapes your lips as you hide your face in his neck. Loran dismisses it as your mere awakening, soothingly caressing your back. Only a fool would miss the evidence of your arousal - the glistening juices trickling down your bare thighs and the hint of green meeting a clenching hole

" Dismissed. "

The orcs file out of the room, speaking amongst each other. Loran's gaze descends upon your petite frame, concealed beneath his garments. He looks feral. Once the auditory commotion subsides, you cautiously lift your head, locking eyes with his penetrating stare.

"Loran, please."

The Orc emits a deep snarl, his lips forcefully meeting yours as he firmly grasps the flesh of your hips, hoisting you off his slick member. Swiftly, he plunges you back down, thrusting into you with fervor, fucking you onto him. You're moaning mess, the spit from your sloppy kiss sliding down your chin and eyes rolling to the back of your head. The sound of wet slapping resonates loudly within the confines of the tent. With a gasp for air, you disengage from him, your hands finding solace on his broad shoulders.

 A particular thrust causes the swollen, mushroom-shaped tip of his cock to abuse your g-spot and your moan is shrill. You climax, your body trembling around him, leaving a creamy, ivory ring at the base of his cock. Stars burst in your vision as you weakly press your lips against his throat, whimpering as he continues to thrust into you, your sensitive and throbbing core tender. " Lor-.. no more.. s’too.. much!" you sputter, sloppily pressing your lips to his and sucking on his large tongue. 

Despite the roughness of his hips snapping into yours, he caresses your sides softly and pulls away from your kiss, licking his lips. "Be a good pet, hm? Let me use my pussy, can you do that for me? " You nod hesitantly, and he smiles, sending your stomach to unfurl languidly. "S'my good girl." You bury your face in his neck with a whimper, but when your blunt little teeth sink into his collarbone it pushes him over the edge; and he stands up with you still bouncing on his cock, thrusting so deeply that you hiss. Ropes of cum paint your pulsing walls, filling you up.

Loran's shallow thrusts ensure not a single drop is wasted as you envelop him in your embrace, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply.

Mayhap, the circumstance of being dispatched to this place was not as grievous as first imagined...

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