#humans are a minority

[pcktknife]

she could stand to be a bit more sharky

[bet-on-me-13]

The cult of...Danny Fenton?

So! Way back when Danny first moved into his new neighborhood in Gotham, he had some trouble controlling his Powers. The different Types and Levels of Ectoplasm in the air when compared to Amity had thrown off his control.

He was used to being in places where his Ectoplasm meshed well with the Atmosphere, like a Water Balloon in a Pool, but in Gotham that analogy would be closer to a Water Balloon in the sewers. It was too different from what he was used to to fully control his Powers.

So it's understandable that he messed up a few times and his neighbors found out about his Abilities.

They took it well at first, Danny wasn't going to go Rogues or anything, and he never used them maliciously, but eventually they got curious.

They asked what his limits were, how he got them in the first place, and what the hell the Ghost Zone was. The answers "None Really", "I died and was reborn", and "A Collective of every Afterlife at once" did spark some interesting reactions from them.

Most importantly, a few of them joked about him being an Eldritch God that they needed to worship. He was good enough friends with them that at that point they felt comfortable pranking eachother, so they did just that.

Danny woke up one day on his birthday, and saw all of his friends and neighbors surrounding the makeshift Throne they had made and put him on while he was asleep. The entire day they chanted stuff like "The Great One requires Ms. Smiths Apple Pie for his day of birth!" And "The Great One Wishes for us to sing the Ritual Song! Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birth-"

After his birthday, they kept up the joke.

It didn't help that his powers had evolved Again! And now he could bestow abilities onto his friends. The jokes they made about their God granting them Supernatural Powers to rule the world with were insufferable.

Then, one day while he was just resting at home, watching a movie on his TV, he felt a Pull at his Core. The same kind of Pull whenever he was being summoned. But why would they summon hi- Oh Shit! It's Mr Jenkins Party today! He was supposed to meet them at the Warehouse they used for special events an Hour Ago!

He quickly accepted the Summoning, but was met with a suprising sight. His Neighbors all tied up in a pile to his right, a spilled table of party food to his left, and right in front of him, Batman and his Family watching him with wary eyes.

Slowly, he opened his mouth. "...so, did you come for the party or..."

[chaoticbooklesbian]

Human: *crying, in pain, experiencing minor neurological symptoms* This is delicious, what's in it? Alien: ...our strongest, deadliest poison. Human: How much for a bottle to send home? My mom would absolutely love it. Alien: If you let a team of our finest scientists deliver it and study her reaction, it's free. Human: Sweet, I'm sure she'd be up for that, let me give her a call--

[sugarcoatednightshade]

thinking about how Humans Are Space Orcs stories always talk about how indestructible humans are, our endurance, our ability to withstand common poisons, etc. and thats all well and good, its really fun to read, but it gets repetitive after a while because we aren't all like that.

And that got me thinking about why this trope is so common in the first place, and the conclusion I came to is actually kind of obvious if you think about it. Not everyone is allowed to go into space. This is true now, with the number of physical restrictions placed on astronauts (including height limits), but I imagine it's just as strict in some imaginary future where humans are first coming into contact with alien species. Because in that case there will definitely be military personnel alongside any possible diplomatic parties.

And I imagine that all interactions aliens have ever had up until this point have been with trained personnel. Even basic military troops conform to this standard, to some degree. So aliens meet us and they're shocked and horrified to discover that we have no obvious weaknesses, we're all either crazy smart or crazy strong (still always a little crazy, academia and war will do that to you), and not only that but we like, literally all the same height so there's no way to tell any of us apart.

And Humans Are Death Worlders stories spread throughout the galaxy. Years or decades or centuries of interspecies suspicion and hostilities preventing any alien from setting foot/claw/limb/appendage/etc. on Earth until slowly more beings are allowed to come through. And not just diplomats who keep to government buildings, but tourists. Exchange students. Temporary visitors granted permission to go wherever they please, so they go out in search of 'real terran culture' and what do they find?

Humans with innate heart defects that prevent them from drinking caffeine. Humans with chronic pain and chronic fatigue who lack the boundless endurance humans are supposedly famous for. Humans too tall or too short or too fat to be allowed into space. Humans who are so scared of the world they need to take pills just to function. Humans with IBS who can't stand spicy foods, capsaicin really is poison to them. Lactose intolerance and celiac disease, my god all the autoimmune disorders out there, humans who struggle to function because their own bodies fight them. Humans who bruise easily and take too long to heal. Humans who sustained one too many concussions and now struggle to talk and read and write. Humans who've had strokes. Humans who were born unable to talk or hear or speak, and humans who through some accident lost that ability later.

Aliens visit Earth, and do you know what they find? Humanity, in all its wholeness.

[shalom-iamcominghome]

You're anti-antisemitism because you know there are good jews who don't deserve antisemitism. I am anti-antisemitism because I know no jew deserves antisemitism. We are not the same.

(what you also don't know is that you aren't anti-antisemitism)

[eldritch-spouse]

I slam the door with frustration, spooking the angel patiently waiting by the door. I haphazardly throw my coat on the floor before grabbing the celestial’s hand and stomping into the living room. Forcing him to sit on the couch, I turn on the tv for noise and hastily unbutton his suit. “I need you now. Had a bad day and you will help me relieve stress.”

In different years, Belo would find this way of life to be slightly insulting.

He's a warrior after all, a power. His kind belongs outside, patrolling, securing the well-being of lessers, fighting for the honor of their Highers and holding the safety of Eden on their shoulders.

Ah, but those days are gone. Long gone. His vision glazes sometimes, wet and torpid eyes lamenting the fate of many of his brethren. They, unlike him, didn't have the fortitude to handle their own abandonment, the newfound fruitlessness of their very existence.

It's one thing to never know what the meaning of your existence is. It's another thing to have that meaning embedded in your very core and never be able to fulfill it again. Sometimes Belo envies that freedom, that ambivalence of simply existing because you can, because you were made.

Also unlike him, his kin did not have the miraculous luck to find someone like his Lady. His Lady-Worship, his beam of light in a universe ready to swallow him in its poisonous darkness. The guiding hand in a world so new and so different, so degenerate. So horrid! As amazing and radiant as you are, Belo shudders when he thinks about how you made it this far intact without a celestial by your side.

With new meaning come new duties, understandably.

As Belo still needs to learn quite a lot to understand the symbolism of this new age, he worries himself with protecting your sanctum, making it the best version of itself, and keeping it painfully, effectively warded against all threats- Especially that fiendish "neighbor" you have, what disgusting absolutely abhorrent lifeform it is! Noxious creature!

But alas, your benevolence knows no bounds. Not only have you welcomed him into your life, you refuse to let that wretched pest meet its end. Truly, you are too good for this lost planet.

Now.

Back to his current task.

The sanctum is spotless, but alas, Belo was never taught how to prepare meals for lessers. It was not the type of discipline delivered to his cast. A guardian would know this, even a principality! But not him, not a power. Unfortunate and unacceptable- He must show adaptation and flexibility unlike ever before!

Which is why that uhm... Digital movie playing contraption you have comes in so very handy.

He never thought he'd be learning to cook from lessers, but here Belo is, hoping against all odds that he doesn't ruin the eggs this time. It's not that he can't handle objects in a gentle manner, it's that he's never had to taste things. Therefore, he doesn't know how to create the correct flavor.

And Lords forbid he ever present his Lady with something foul-tasting!

The power is sure he's got it down correctly this time however. Belo has just finished putting the eggs on the plate he intends to present you with, when he stills.

An acute sense of alertness and hearing means a lifeform like him is always aware of the movement around your apartment complex. He knows when your neighbors leave and arrive, which parts of their homes they're in... This also means that he knows when you're nearby, having memorized the noise of your vehicle -Such a shame that he can't accompany you to some locations- And the jingle of your mildly irritating keychain.

The angel scrambles to put everything together, wanting to be at the door with his offering in full display, so eager to see you-

The door rips open.

Only a nick of time allows Belo to secure his painfully crafted work of mediocre culinary, lest it be swatted to the ground. Sharpened eyes spare you great concern.

His Lady exudes frustration. Although his rank is not the most emotionally attuned, Belo senses a cloud of negativity choking you, your glorious features drained and tense. He's overcome with emotion.

" My- My Lady! Whatever happened today? Did you get hurt? Who d- "

The force with which you grip his hand is surprising for a human, dragging the angel only because he always allows you to. The food lies forgotten on the nearest surface. It's by his ever subservient attitude that you can toss Belo to the couch too, his silent confusion following when you activate the bigger display box.

" I need you now. " You begin, patience depleted. " Had a long day and you will help me relieve stress. "

He squawks the same way he does whenever his Worship starts these encounters without proper warning, wings fluttering and fur fluffing in a mixture of shock and anticipation. He fears that a part of him may enjoy getting pleasurably surprised more than any self-respecting angel should.

" But... " He knows it's not a good idea to challenge you, trembling as the last of his covering is undone. " You should eat b-before I service you, my Lady, many hours have passed- "

" I'll eat when I can't feel my legs. " The snarl you give Belo sends shudders down his spine, and he bashfully, albeit inwardly happily, readjusts to spread his legs for you.

" Excuse me but that hardly sounds healthy... "

His cock pokes out a furred slit, beading and twitching to interest. Although Belo becomes uncomfortably erect the moment you recklessly undress before him. It was not, as a filthy demon would put it, a slutty display. It was raw need, irritation and pure dominance. It was a side of his Worship he had yet to witness.

Belo refuses to ever admit it aloud, he cannot, he will not! But... But oh, the sins of the flesh. No, when provided by the superiors, they are not sins, they are gifts. They cannot be wrong. It's not wrong for Belo to enjoy your physical rewards for his work, but it is perhaps sinful of him to lust for more, to so eagerly hope that you'll allow him such pleasures when he performs certain tasks.

He does not touch his aching length because he's not allowed to. His pleasure is for you to decide upon, of course.

The angel prepares to slide down on his knees when you shove him back on the cushions by the shoulder.

Three eyes blink at you. " Am... Am I not to service you, my Goddess? "

You usually enjoy the touch of his fingers upon your most intimate zones, for training him is easy, and Belo adored the sounds of your approval. You did also curiously enjoy grinding over his face, a sensation that often left him pointlessly thrusting against nothing.

None of that today, it seems.

" Shut up. "

He was about to reply with a reflexive 'Yes, my Lady' before catching himself.

When you straddle him, the celestial only tilts his head, figure heated, but never expecting you to simply line him up with your entrance and slam yourself down.

Had he not been in the midst of breathlessly throwing his head back, Belo would have died from worry. As holy as you are, you share the stature of humanity, and Belo knows -F-From common sense, of course!- That his organ is not the same size of a human's at all.

He tries to articulate his concern, but the squeeze of your core around him is hypnotic and sickeningly euphoric. Belo can only hold onto full hips and cry his delight while you mercilessly hammer down on his cock, milking all the pleasure you can from him.

His melodious whines and resounding moans -Something he ought to control- rise in intensity as Belo loses himself and begins rutting senselessly, the tip of his dick nuzzling spots that make the two of you go stupid.

" Don't you dare cum yet! "

He wails, physically wails, body trembling so hard it almost spasms in his effort to reign his movements. " N- Never, never my Lady! I'm good, I'll relieve you- I'm good! "

And as if to confirm it, your serious complexion finally morphs into a self-satisfied grin, all lidded eyes and gentle, mocking affection.

He's the one that's not getting any relief soon.

[ameliathornromance]

"I don't know if this is a good idea." Your Orc Boyfriend told you.

"This place is fine!" You smiled at him. Gripped onto his hand, you pointed to the door of the Inn. "I already told you that they're welcoming to everyone. You'll be fine."

All around you, people stalk by, heads shrouded in cloak hoods and clutched tightly around their necks to stop the downpour of rain.

Your Orc Boyfriend grumbled as a gust of wind sent a chill down both of your spines. He looked over his shoulder, pulling the poorly fitting hood further over his face. He sighed. "Okay, let's get out of the cold then."

Beaming, you pushed open the Inn door. The two of you entered and were instantly hit with warmth. Chatter drowned out the bard who played at the very end of the tavern. But no one spared a glance at the two of you, even as your Orc Boyfriend pulled down his hood.

"Right, let's see if we can get something to eat." You mumbled. You pulled him away from the door, desperate to get further away from the cold draft that had followed you inside.

"(Y/N)? No, that's not you,"

Whipping your head around at the mention of your name, you couldn't stop your grin. "Boor? Is that you?"

"Boor?" Your Orc Boyfriend questioned, but there was no time to give an answer.

A human man, twice the size of a regular man, pushed his way through a crowd of Goblins to you. "It's been so long my friend!" He grabbed you and lifted you off the floor.

You let go of your Orc Boyfriend's hand and wrapped your arms around Boor.

Once you were let go, your boyfriend instantly pulled you into a protective grip. Hunching over you and crossing an arm over your chest protectively, your Orc Boyfriend shot a glower at the man.

Boor didn't even glance at your boyfriend, instead bending down to you, "are you well my friend?"

Sensing the tension from your partner, you placed your hand on his forearm and squeezed. "I'm good... Boor, I'd like you to meet my partner: (O/N)."

Boor finally acknowledged your boyfriend and gave him a toothy grin. "An Orc?! Amazing! I haven't seen any of you for a few years! I hope you and your kind are keeping well!"

Your Orc Boyfriend seemingly relaxed at his recognition and grunted in return. "We are well."

"Come, allow me to buy you drinks, we must catch up!"

"Actually," Your Orc cut off. "We should get a room."

"(O/N)'s right, sorry Boor." You smiled apologetically. "Maybe later, we're both freezing from travelling."

"Ah, if you must." Boor sighed, "I will see you later my friends!"

When you and your partner had been settled in a room, you both collapsed onto the bed. A fire crackled in the corner of the room, punctuating the silence.

"Who is this 'Boor' man?" Your Orc Boyfriend asked.

"Boor's a good friend of mine." You explained, "he's part man, part giant. Super friendly and kind, but not very good at reading other people." You snorted, "one time, we nearly got caught in a Drider's web because Boor said he promised to feed us. Little did we know, he was actually trying to fatten us up to eat."

"Sounds like a shit travelling companion." Your partner grumbled.

"He meant well." You rolled your eyes and smiled. Both of you returned to silence for a moment. "...Were you jealous?"

"No." Your Orc Boyfriend said too quickly. He rolled over, back facing towards you.

You could barely suppress a grin from coming over you. "You have nothing to be jealous of, I only have eyes for you." Placing a hand on his bicep, you leaned your head against the square of his back.

"..." Your partner didn't respond for a moment. Then he rolled over and scooped you up in his arms and squeezed you tightly. "Good. If it weren't for the Inn full of people, I would have beat him to death for even touching you."

You rolled your eyes and squeezed him tightly. "I'm glad you didn't. Otherwise we'd be camping outside again and I don't think that you would want to do that."

"It would be worth it if it meant protecting my partner."

Patreon

[ihhfhonao3]

I’m a firm believer in the passive and small acts of activism.

You’re actively fighting capitalism by resting and taking a break. You’re actively fighting homophobia by wearing a rainbow pin to signify to others your allyship. You’re actively fighting climate change by air drying your hands after washing them. You’re actively fighting childism by letting a minor talk to you about how they’re doing. You’re actively fighting oppressive systems by simply existing.

There have always been others like you, and there always will be others like you. Your existence is rebellion. As long as you’re alive, conservatives and bigots have lost.

You’re a rebel. You’re a warrior. You’re a fighter. And you don’t even know it.

[pricknim]

not even she can stand this heat

[rayroseu]

source

To me, it feels like Sebek's eyes have become more "human" in the Armor Card than the Dorm Card.

Its not that striking green color anymore, its now like a human brown eyes, the lines have also softened, and his gaze went from intimidating to determined in the new card.

Additionally, he doesn't have the fae eyeshadow in the new card too. Its like Sebek has embraced his human side. 🥺💚

I've always looked forward to the day that Sebek will accept his humanity, face his shameful feelings towards it, change his perspective towards humans, and use his humanity as motivation instead of just viewing it as a trait thats inferior to being a fae.

I'm really excited for Sebek's chapter in Book 7 😭💚🙌

[whaleofatjme1920]

Kinktober Day 10: Double Penetration

Double Penetration - SCP 049 X GN!AFAB!Reader X SCP 035

Warnings: praise, double vaginal penetration, it's kinda sweet?

AN: Unrelated to the fic but if any of you are jaded, express love through teasing and being mean, and tall hit me up I'm in a mood ❤️ I also have the migraine of a LIFE TIME so something short bc ow. my skull.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Reblogs are appreciated!

Your breath caught in your lungs for the umpteenth time as you felt 049's clawed finger tips roll into your hips and prop up your ass for 035's usage. He breathed lowly, like an airy groan of pleasure as he felt his dear friend's cock slide into you. Both of them were almost too thick to handle as you scrunched your nose and squeezed your eyes shut.

"Big," you panted as you took 035. You felt his thick cock push deeper and deeper into you as he brushed against 049's cock. They both were driving you wild with how good they felt. You've never been stretched so much.

"Mon chaton," 049 cooed as he thrusted his hips up. His claws kept digging into your hips. "That's right, keep taking him. Relax your body for us and take him deeper."

035 groans in your ear as he rolled his hips again. "You feel so good," he whispered, his accent so sweet in your year, Grecian, reminding you of a better time and halcyon days. The host he's using today is almost as girthy as 049.

You feel yourself gush around the both of them as they lavish you with their touch. Their hips moved in sync and you cried out in pleasure. Your eyes rolled up as you took them again and again, unable to focus on anything other than how good they felt. "Oh please," you mewled in pleasure. "Harder, I need you both harder."

035 laughed as he glanced down at you. His large, warm hands squeezed your body possessively. The only other man who would even think to share you with was 049. "Harder? You need it harder? What a good, good toy," he giggled gleefully as his thrusts began to pick up in pace.

049's voice cooed sweetly in your ear, "if it pleases you, mon chaton," he whispered. He let his beaked head tip upwards as he rut his hips in time with 035's, helplessly lost in the way you rode them both. He loved how warm and soft your body was, how tight you became when you stretched to accommodate the both of them while still gushing over them.

"Fuck," you hissed as they roughly slammed into you.

"Take it, take it," 049 grinned.

035 chuckled as his hips slapped into you, the sound of your moans, their groans of pleasure and skin on skin echoing throughout the room. "You asked for it, love," he hummed. "You want us to finish inside of you?"

Both of them watched as heat dashed your body and your face like a blanket of embarrassment. You nodded.

Their eyes narrowed.

"Say please."

[bet-on-me-13]

DPxBNHA Prompt

@evilminji recently made a Post about DP x MHA and I'm in love with the idea of those 2 fandoms together. (I'm gonna tag this dpxdc just to spread it around but there won't be much dc in it. Maybe a few crumbs here and there)

So! Quirks came into existence the same day Danny became a Halfa. He wasn't directly responsible for it, but when the Portal opened it released a truly Massive amount of Ectoplasm into the world at large. The Dr's Fenton didn't notice it at first, because Amity Park had always had that level of Ectoplasm and all of their Sensors were within the City Limits.

The Ectoplasm released onto the world quickly and integrated with multiple Humans across the Planet, and eventually enough Ectoplasm gathered in a single Human to form the first Proto-Core, aka Quirk. That human was the Glowing Baby.

This phenomenon spread across the world as the situation in Amity Park devolved. The GIW knew for certain that these "Meta Abilities" were the result of Ectoplasm Contamination, and doubled down on Amity Park to try and fruitless contain the spread. Not that it would have worked, the Portal opening had sent a Shockwave across the fabric of Reality, creating mini-portals that continued to feed Ectoplasm to the Earth.

Eventually the day came when Amtiy Park was Evacuated from the Mortal Realm by Clockwork for it's own Protection. It's disappearance was blamed on a newly awakened Quirk destroying the entire Town, which was used to feed the flames of hatred in the Early Dawn Era.

Then one day, Amity Park returns. In Japan of all places.

Clockwork had dragged the entire Town through Time, to an Era that would accept their abilities. It was placed in the countryside of Japan. Clockwork had considered putting them in a dimension of Heroes, bur decided that would like to stay in their home dimension for now.

Thats the basic world building, but there are other parts we can expand upon in this AU

For Example, OFA and AFO

All for One was the first True Core in the 1st Gen of Quirks, but he was born with a Defect that made him unable to generate his own Ectoplasm. He felt a Hunger that could never be satiated, and eventually found a way to feed that hunger by absorbing the Proto-Cores of other people into his own True Core, stealing their Quirks.

One For All was the Opposite, born as an empty True Core but without the insatiable Hunger that his brother had. Then AFO force fed him a Stockpile Core and it fused with his own, giving him the power to Generate and Stockpile his own Ectoplasm.

He also had the power to Pass On his Core to another Body, basically just passing on his power. Then his Successor did the same, and their successor, and their Successor. Eventually we reach the 9th Holder of OFA, and the Singularity.

In this world, the Quirk Singularity isn't just an event where Quirks grow too powerful for their Bodies to handle, it is an event where the Proto-Cores of Quirk Users experience an Apotheosis, and change from Proto to True Cores. True Cores which the Human Body can't handle having.

But it's different for OFA. It was a True Core from the beginning, born within a Human Body, and it has the power of 6 other Proto-Cores within itself all ready to Apotheosis into True Cores themselves. When OFA is passed onto zuku Midoriya, it floods him with 7 Cores worth of Ectoplasm, and turns him into a Halfa.

When Danny and the rest if Amity Park reappear in Japan, they find not only a world populated by mostly Liminal Humans, but also a Powerful Halfa who doesn't even know he is a Halfa. Maybe even 2 if All Might also experienced the same Apotheosis?

Thoughts?

[alecvolturiswifeforever]

a warm welcome home 𝜗𝜚 ׅ ۫ demetri volturi x reader

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT - MINORS DNI

a/n: a little request for @agirllovespancakes because you are the cutest little mutual i ever did follow and i adore you 🫶🏻

tag list: @your-next-daydream @agirllovespancakes @icefrozendeadlyqueen @iloveslasher @julesofvolterra

based on prompts from here and here

A broken giggle leaves your mouth as you wake up from your slumber to a familiar coolness pressing up against your back, something - someone snuggling into the crook of your neck with a deep sigh. A soft yawn escapes you, though not before you allow the raspy whisper to leave your lips. The grogginess of sleep still hung over you, and you were partly convinced your desire to have Demetri back with you was causing you to hallucinate his very presence.

“You’re back?”

You hear him hum softly, the sound rumbling through his chest and transforming into a soft purr when you lifted a hand to scratch at the locks on the very top of his head. After a moment of silence he lifted his head from your nape, your hand falling back down to rest on your hip. Demetri lightly tugged at your shoulder, an easy attempt at pulling you flat onto your back.

You took the chance to rub at your eyes, another yawn escaping unbidden before you look at him - though you realise he is already watching you intently, propped up on one arm and admiring you with the look of adoration you so very much adored. Blushing, you move to press your face into his chest, already knowing what’s to come before he even has the chance to open his mouth.

“Mmm, I have missed that adorable little blush.”

You whine at him instantly, pulling your face away from your hiding place to send him a scolding look. He quickly dismisses it, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You smile against his mouth and without hesitation you tilt your head just a teeny bit back in order to deepen the kiss. He shifted himself to hover above you with a groan, soft kisses quickly becoming much more heated, and it wasn’t long before he parted your legs with his knee in order to slot himself between your thighs.

His kisses began to break away from your lips, moving and travelling down across your jaw, towards your neck. He ravished your clavicle for a moment or two, taking extra care to suck a blossoming mark onto your sweet spot before continuing his journey down. You inhaled sharply, your shirt quickly torn from your body, the sound resonating throughout the near silent bedchamber. You pouted at him when he smirked up at you.

“I liked that shirt…”

“It was my shirt-“

“Still-!” You deepened the pout with an exaggerated sigh. “It was comfy…”

He chuckled against the skin of your breast, easily distracting you with each featherlight kiss he pressed onto your skin.

“You may wear as many of my shirts as your heart desires, darling.” He paused to press a lingering kiss your lips “That one simply looks much better on the floor.”

Your body immediately betrayed you as he began to kiss across your breasts and down to your navel, arching into him with the smallest of moans. You felt him smirk again, dragging the tip of his tongue in a gentle circle around your naval, travelling down to lightly trace just above the elastic of your panties.

“Come now, you can do better than that sweetheart.” His fingers teasingly made their way across your folds, not once slipping beneath the fabric that acted as a barrier between you both. “Don’t be shy baby, you know I love the way you moan my name.”

With that he pounced, attacking your clit through the fabric as you let out a gasping moan of his name, subconsciously rolling your hips into him as he suckled you gently. He hummed against your sex when you let out a whimper, using his thumb to stroke your hip gently. You follow your whimper with a loud whine as he pulled away, squirming in his hold at the loss of his mouth.

“Is this okay?” He asks, staring up at you from his place between your thighs.

“Yes I-“ You groan as he, once again, places featherlight kisses across your panty line, never once breaking the eye contact he shared with you. “Demetri-! Please-!”

He shushes you smugly, hands finding the edges of your underwear and tugging them down your legs, completely discarding them onto the floor with his previously torn shirt. “Relax, darling. I’ve got you.”

His lips attack you once again, only this time there was nothing stopping you from feeling the way his mouth slanted across your heat, burying his nose into your wet cunt and inhaling the scent of your arousal. You let out a loud moan, one hand subconsciously making its way to the top of his head and carding your fingers through his hair. Demetri purred once again, the vibrations sending another wave of arousal through you and leaving you dripping onto the sheets below. You felt his tongue move lower, probing at your entrance and drinking up your essence. A cry of pleasure left your throat before you could even process it, and he groaned in response, reaching up and taking one of your hands in his own to squeeze it gently in comfort. He growled, allowing them to remain interlocked atop of your chest, occasionally grasping a tad bit tighter.

“My gods, Y/N.” He grunted before pulling away even more, leaving you a whining squirming mess. “You taste fucking divine.”

As if to prove a point he pulled himself up and pressed a hard kiss to your mouth, coaxing your lips open. You keen at the taste of you on his lips, reaching up to keep his mouth on your own before letting go of his hand, reaching down to attempt to free his cock from the restraints of his slacks. He took pity on you when you struggled, letting out a breathy laugh against your lips as his hands moved down to finish the job for you. Pulling away to catch your breath for a moment, he used it to his advantage, pulling his shirt off as well and allowing for his body to be completely bared to you. With a soft moan at the sight of him, his hands came up to cup your cheeks, pulling your lips to his own before travelling down to your breasts. He kneaded them softly with his palms - thumbs brushing over your nipples.

Demetri moaned, louder than he had done previously, as you arched your body completely into him. Using his right hand, he quickly reached down, brushing his hard cock through your folds in order to gather some of your arousal, using his hand to spread it over himself before entering you in one swift thrust of his hips. You cried out, tears springing to your eyes at the sudden onslaught of pleasure filling your senses. He shushed you, hips pausing to allow you a moment of relief before he made you see stars. As you adjusted around him he spoke softly, sweet nothings harmonising surrounding you, followed by the softest of kisses across various parts of your face.

“My sweet darling girl, how gorgeous you look when you’re taking my cock.” A soft kiss to your nose.

“You always take me so well, so eager to please me.” A soft kiss to your cheeks.

“My pretty little girl making me so proud - so beautiful you look when you’re beneath me” A soft kiss to your forehead.

And when he was completely sure you were ready, he began to move, smiling adoringly when your head tilted back in ecstasy. A series of high pitched noises sounded out from the back of your throat, and he couldn’t help but chuckle before grunting as you clenched around him.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

You nodded eagerly, the only thing you could do as your nerves began to go haywire, pleasure spiking across your entire body. “You gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Let me hear those pretty little noises you make.”

You responded with a whine, which was quickly replaced with a sobbing moan as the tip of his member hit that oh so familiar spot inside you. Clawing at his arms you let out another, then another and he that was followed up by Demetri’s low growling, allowing one of his own to slip past his lips. You felt him reach the spot once more, and you felt the coil began to tighten in your abdomen, spiralling around and threatening to push you over the precipice at any given moment. He continued to attack your sweet spot with his cock, also reaching a hand down to your wet pussy in order to rub slow circles on your swollen bundle of nerves, timing it just right with the thrust of his hips. A gargled moan escaped you before you spoke up:

“‘Metri-!” You sobbed “I-m g-gonna-“

“That’s it darling, cum for me like the good girl you are.” His words were a growl and you let out a screaming moan as his final thrust sent you hurling over the edge. He immediately covered your mouth, shushing you gently before unintentionally letting out a loud moan himself as he felt you pulse around his sex, throbbing with the need of release. It seemed as if your climax had guided him into one of his own, because the next thing you knew his body was slumping against you as he painted your walls with his seed, completely filling you until you couldn’t take anymore.

Coming down from his high much quicker than you had, he smiled, feeling you shake beneath him as you panted in desperate need for air. He moved his hands to your hips, slowly pulling out of you and wincing when you hissed in pain.

“Sorry, gorgeous.” He kissed your forehead gently in apology, melting as you smiled up at him lazily. “You did so, so good for me - made me so proud. Now let me get you cleaned up, hm? I think you deserve a few more hours of sleep after that.”

He did just that, cleaning you as gently as he could with a washrag and wincing with you when he brushed over your sensitive folds. He wrapping you up in a blanket, cradling you to his chest. “I love you, my pretty little human.”

“Love you, Demi - so much”

He heard your soft whisper, right before you fell completely back into blissful slumber, happily snuggled into the comfort of your mates embrace. He smiled to himself happily as he stroked you hair, completely content with his welcome home.

[bittybatarts]

been in a ref mood. I guess I can have a humanoid sona too, sometimes. They're not just human though, that'd be boring.

[eldritch-spouse]

https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/741884957599973376/httpswwwtumblrcomeldritch-spouse741700018004?source=share

I need to know in explicit detail the first time breg allowed this human to collect samples. Also need to know the embarrassing situations they are put in that their coworkers judge them

I honestly love this so much I'm kicking my feet and giggling ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[Fem reader. I kind of rushed this. Doodle at the end.]

TW: Heavy themes of abuse (including mentions of noncon, death and captivity); Dubious consent moments.

" Listen, we just need you to get in there. "

You blink. " ... This can't be serious. Is this a joke? "

The half-fiend woman, superior to you in professional rank, drags a hand across her blonde locks and grimaces. " Look, I know it sounds bad- "

" Of course it does! This was nowhere in the job description- "

Not that the job description was very uh, descriptive, anyway. But any straw will do, anything to cling to a modicum of your dignity as you get told what your next task will be.

She seems to switch through a few different corporate tactics to ease the blow. " Listen, please. We are short-staffed at the moment, and this has been affecting production a lot more than you can imagine. Specimen 197 is a big bread-winner here and we all know he's uncooperative with machinery, going as far as to ruin it constantly, which leads to more expenses- "

She's explaining this to you like you're a particularly slow toddler and you're not amused.

" We have also noted that M197 is clearly attached to you and a bond has been formed, which is why your presence is requested in certain situations, to reduce his stress levels during tasks. This... Is another one of those tasks. We just need you to get a few samples- " She points at the two canisters next to her. " And you can think of it as a way to improve your bond with the specimen even. "

" Ma'am, he's entering a rut. " You pause. " You want me to walk into a male breeder's cell while he's rutting and engage sexually with him? "

She gulps. " For- For strictly professional purposes- "

" I'm not doing this. "

...

" There's a significant monetary bonus if you manage to do it. "

A long, shameful, disgustingly filthy moment of silence unfolds where you internally debate how far you're willing to go for some much needed money.

Too far, apparently.

" ... I'll do it. "

" Great, that's wonderful, we- "

" No cameras in the room. "

She flinches. " But then how are we supposed to know if you're in danger? "

" No cameras, please. "

If you die you die. You don't want footage of you being possibly mauled by a breeder out there...

A begrudging glance is cast towards the canisters sitting innocently on the table.

Grabbing them, you prepare for the shitshow you signed yourself into.

We have him tied up, the techs had informed you, it'll make things easier.

Just hearing them gives you headaches.

Yes, of course, because forcibly restraining the already volatile lifeform will make it cease being hostile. Logical.

A long-suffering sigh exits your lips when you input the code to open 197's cell. It's a code you know by heart now. If not from the regular standard visits, then from the hurried string of numbers your coworkers would scream at you over the radio before getting launched around by a monster several times their size and weight.

It's hard to forget something like that. There are just some faces you never see again.

As soon as the heavily reinforced door hisses open, you're greeted by an immediate build-up of a snarl. As scary as the sound was when you first heart it, and continues to be on an instinctual level, you understand now that it's mostly born out of fear.

Nothing good ever happens when 197 is cuffed and he's right to be frightened.

The moment you step into view and the door slams shut behind you however, he visibly seems to shift gear instantly.

Sitting on the rather uncomfortable tiled ground, specimen 197 has his ankles spread and cuffed to the ground, his wrists joined behind him and his neck nearly choked to the wall. A muzzle prevents the breeder's jaw from elongating as it tends to do when he's threatened. His tail is likewise restrained in two areas. Those cuffs are the best things modern technology can offer, you haven't heard of a single solid monster type that can shatter them. They're likely also tampered with by some more magically-inclined individuals, but you've never been one to dabble in that.

He exhibits the signs you'd expect from any male entering a rut. Excessive sweating, goosebumps, a faster breathing rate, tension, restlessness and a dilated, humid slit. His skin flickers from time to time, signals somewhere between aggression and courtship displays. You would never have associated heat cycles with torture before starting your work here, but seeing the way these monsters are chemically forced into hypersexual, unhealthily exacerbated heats has shown you just how cruelly this biological process can be exploited.

Sometimes they die. A hormonal, frenzied, artificially accelerated metabolism like this is powerful, but it's also very fragile, in a way. Either they're able to maintain their required ridiculous nutrient intake, find a way to preserve as much energy as possible, or simply panic and end up dying from a mixture of stress and lack of sustenance.

Another sigh escapes your lips, you try to clear your head by placing the canisters on the ground.

The breeder in question, who was once nearly pitch black in his effort to intimidate the perceived threat, is now snow white, having registered you as his favorite, the "nice one". 197 shrinks in himself, then begins a litany of keening whines interspersed with specific chirps.

It might be a plea for attention from an already hormone-fried brain, it might also just be a desperate request to be released from his binds.

You're no paragon of morality, but unlike your coworkers, you understand that building a bond with anyone requires depositing some trust in them. And, even if 197 is rutting, you can only continue to build a connection with him if he has a modicum of comfort in this situation. Which is why you steel yourself before moving closer to the specimen in question and inputting the specific combination to unlock all of his cuffs.

The process is timed, giving workers about five or so minutes to leave the cell before the cuffs drop and the monster is freed. It prevents casualties, naturally.

197 tries to thump his tail in appreciation when he realizes what you're doing, quietly rumbling and trying to lean into the small brushes of your fingers as you work.

" There big guy, just give it a second... " You take a few steps back while you wait.

It feels like a small eternity before the restraints begin falling off one by one. First the tail ones, then the muzzle, the neck, the wrists... And the ankles. On that last click, the breeder shrugs everything away and stretches as he stands.

You've studied these monsters and their mannerisms, he's not stretching just to soothe his joints, he's displaying. The exaggerated curve of that spine says it all, you know exactly what reaction he's after. Though, already riled up as he is, you don't think it's a good idea to respond.

In a second, he's closed the distance between the two of you, this near suffocating hovering over your front, hands and arms twitching with the urge to touch you. 197 is not good with boundaries, which was very surprising to you, considering he absolutely detests it when 99% of people touch him.

The 1% being you.

He waits, visibly pained, for the signal.

" You can touch me now. "

And like a sudden wave, 197 nearly crashes onto you, his comparatively massive pale body blanketing over yours as his arms cage your upper body, lifting it along with him. You squealed the first few times, now you know to stay mostly still and lean to the right so he can shove his face in the crook of your neck without bonking his head against yours. Painful.

He takes a couple deep, shameless inhales of your scent. And, if you had to guess, you're probably a bit sweaty from anxiety. Not that he seems to care, 197 actually appears to slow down a little, enjoying the closeness and now familiar odor you possess. His tail coils around your legs and you pat his back when the telltale chirps and trills of elation make it past his throat.

" Yeah, I missed you too buddy. Take a breather. "

This close to the male, you have absolutely no choice but to drown in his musk. 197 can't help it, he's ruttting after all, those pheromones have to come out. Fortunately, as a human, you're not affected by them, though some of your monster coworkers have to wear specific masks when they enter rutting breeder cells. To you, it's just vaguely unpleasant and heavy.

197 would usually give you a bit of room by now, but he doesn't seem interested in that, instead shifting you around so he can smell other parts of your figure, particularly your hair. Your face warms from his excessive body heat and the sensation of being corralled, your protests silenced when a long blue muscle dips to trail from the base of your neck to your jaw and up the side of your face. The movement is quick, and your attempt to reflexively lean away is met with a tighter grasp as he repeats it.

197 has a habit of dulling his teeth to look more humanoid for your comfort, but not today, in the state he is, he likely forgot that detail altogether. This unfortunately means that you feel the scrape of those pointed daggers every time he amorously samples your skin.

" Alright okay, that's enough- "

You butt in when it feels like he's getting a bit too riled up too fast. It's not exactly counter-productive to your task, but letting him get more and more control over the situation will make it difficult to get the samples later. You can't wrangle a breeder in the throes of their rut, you have to do things before that critical stage.

However, the specimen isn't interested in listening to anything you have to say, responding instead to your tone with his own whine and starting to tug at your uniform. That does it. Thoroughly soaked in his drool, you grab onto the breeder's forearms hard.

" 197! " It's not a tone you like to use with any of the breeders here.

He eventually snaps out of his little trance, gulping, steadying himself before frowning and giving you the space you want.

In this barely minute-long episode, 197 has already kicked into high-gear. Breathing accelerated again, open-mouth panting, excessive drool production, somewhat puffed figure and the tips of his twin cocks already poking out of a pelvic pouch that can barely hold them back. He seems to shiver in his own overwhelming arousal, and though this species is known for having its eyes shielded behind a layer of skin on the face, you know he's fixed on you like a famished animal.

Although your cheeks are moments from setting aflame, this isn't exactly a new sight for you. 197 has gotten aroused in your vicinity several times, you've actually lost count. It'd be nonsensical of you to get irritated over such, given that these males are forced into hypersexuality by the concoctions introduced in their organisms. That paired with his fondness for you probably makes it hard for 197 to not get erections constantly. A hug can set him off, even simple closure paired with your scent is enough to do it.

Well. No time to waste.

While he's mildly disoriented, you grab one of the canisters and move towards a corner of the room with a seemingly randomly arranged pile of fabrics. This, as confusing as it may be to some, is a breeder's nest. And in this species of monsters, the males tend to be the ones who arrange spaces for coupling. 197 has expressed clear discontentment with the fabrics given to him during times of rut to fulfill his instinctual needs, but no one here is ever acting with the specimen's best interests in mind. Besides, he piped down when one of the techs had the bright idea of giving him a jacket you forgot in the workplace. It's right there in fact, the gray hue contrating with a mostly white and pale color scheme.

The nest itself is big, if it fits 197 then it definitely fits you too. And, knowing exactly what you're doing, you let him observe you take a step into it and sit down on the middle, empty canister beside you.

Oh boy.

You can practically hear the popcorn crackles in his brain.

The monster trills loudly, proudly, your supposed acceptance of what have amounted to months of unsubtle courtship from his part being finally rewarded. It's a dangerous moment, you're perfectly aware of such, but it's also necessary to get this over with.

197 drops to a creepily nimble crawl across the floor, rapidly posing over your seated form with blue-tinted cheeks and rabid need. Before you can get so much as a word in, he's dropping some of his weight on you, showering you in hasty licks and clumsy kisses again, this time unable to help himself from nipping at your clothes. The coverings visibly bother him, and the male growls quietly before his instincts tug at him again and he's trying to slot himself between your clothed legs. It takes some yelping, and fussy movement from his part, but you eventually rationalize that stressing him out can lead to a violent response right now.

Might as well let him get away with some embarrassing acts.

Hormone-muddled as he is, 197 has only enough of a mind to hold onto you and press two hot lengths against the front of your body. He's already full-mast, the heat and weight of those things dragging across you when he automatically moves his hips is utterly filthy. He groans, probably the first kind of decent friction he's been getting since he entered this phase of his cycle, the softness and smell of his favorite human getting the monster to leak already, lost in his desperate search for a modicum of relief. As gross and ridiculous as it is, at least he's not tugging at your clothes yet.

You can sense his frustration, the frantic way 197 mechanically bucks against you, the pressure he puts in every thrust, the way his claws puncture into your lab coat and he whines low, this noise that turns into a pleased sort of snarl. Overwhelmed, you shiver beneath his figure, glad there are no cameras to see you fluster and shamefully let a rutting monster grind at you.

You dare say you can get into this.

There's something so appealing about having a monster yearn for you so madly that he's driven to this senseless and primitive display, that even so much as humping you could have them blissed out. Your legs quake around his and you feel your pussy throb in response to the muted friction from his lightly barbed cocks. It's not the first time you've wondered about how it would feel... You've always been a monsterfucker at heart, and 197 is a brutally gorgeous specimen. He's always imploring for even a single touch from you, if you spread yourself out you have absolutely no doubt he would ram those alarming inches into you like a wild beast.

Yeah, maybe your coworkers would call you a sickfuck, but it's not like anyone who works here is moderately normal...

It's a secret. One that you're vaguely paranoid might not be so secret anymore, now that you've been entrusted with this.

In your horny little stupor, you make the critical mistake of forgetting that breeders quickly detect arousal in others. And you are probably making a wet spot in your pants as of now.

With a sudden snort of an inhale, he rises like a man possessed to start ripping at the sides of your lab coat, forcefully trying to rip it off even as he's unable to stop rocking his hips. He knows how to unbutton things just fine, but you bet he can't be fucked to think much in this state.

" Hey- Hey, easy, slow down. " You grab onto his wrists, being ignored.

Okay. Time to think this out while you still can. He's going to rip through your clothes if you let him, and that's not just needless damage, it'll put him in control. But being aggressive about getting him to stop isn't ideal with this type of monster, you need something that distracts him too much to realize he's not exactly holding the leash here. Eventually, an idea graces your mind, though it makes you grimace a little.

Already blazing with shame, you carefully edge a hand between you and, with some hesitation, grab one of the twin members pushed against you.

Instant reaction.

The monster halts, as desired, and looks at you almost oddly, but hopefully. The trick is not giving him enough time to think, so you quickly get a feel for what you're working with, and start stroking him generously.

It's not the frenzied, rushed jerking he inflicts on himself when his own libido becomes bothersome, the fisting of a large hand with little focus and care. You handle him as pleasurably as you can manage, using both hands on him and attentively reading his face. 197 pants openly again, glancing vapidly at your small hands while they work him and he fucks into the motions, strings of thick drool falling from his teeth.

" Good...? Yeah? " You ask, gulping.

He falters and gasps, trying to articulate something. " Please. " Gets dragged out, his dick pulsing in your grasp.

You don't quite know what he's begging for, but you assume he's enjoying himself. Watching the neglected length bob uselessly, you take the opportunity to remove your own lab coat, switching hands quickly when necessary. The shirt comes off too, leaving you in your bra and pants.

By the time you glance back at him, the breeder's skin has shifted entirely to black, and he's hypnotized by the new parts of your body revealed to him, the mounds on your chest breeder females don't have but that he somehow finds pleasing to the eye regardless.

You make a lifting motion, trying to get his attention. " Knees. Come on, knees. Let me show you something. "

It takes a hot second, but he computes the request and does as told out of genuine curiosity. You're about to show an already decidedly horny monster the wonders of oral sex, which is likely not the brightest of ideas, but no one's here to judge your poor decisions.

197's girths hover far too close to your face while he waits a tad impatiently. Studying the things you'll be pleasing soon, you nearly pale a couple shades, knowing it'll take some prayer not to end up hurting your jaw. The male has lived in captivity since the day he hatched, you've enjoyed showing him some of the nicer things in life from time to time, this is just another one of them.

Carefully grabbing onto the left one, you glance at 197 as you deliberately slip your tongue out, so he doesn't just assume you're going to try biting his genitals. He tenses, because of course he would, but you take your time, stopping the moment only his tip is inside your mouth. The breeder is a tad confused and quaking slightly with ambiguous anticipation.

Then you suck.

And it clicks instantly.

God, just this little of his length is already forcing you to open wider than you've ever had to with previous partners, still, you strain to take a few more inches down and focus on that part.

The male exhales tremulously, experiencing the feeling for the first time ever, you're certain. 197 has to straighten slightly as the first intense waves of pleasure course through him, and bless the big dorky monster, he has no idea what to do with himself or his arms. As your jaw adjusts, a tad uncomfortably, you start truly gouging how much of him you can handle. Not that much honestly, but it's to be expected. It's already more than enough to please him, if the increasingly louder growled trills are any indication.

Oh, you bet this is the closest thing to heaven for him. His favorite human, with a mouth warmer than he could have ever expected, lips much softer than any of his species', no apex predator teeth to get in the way, and a tongue that although flat and short, can still chase after those wonderfully sensitive spots.

He has exactly zero idea how to react beyond making bestial noises and drooling on his own chest like a vapid animal. The way his cock pulses in your mouth is a tad bothersome to the rhythm you're trying to keep, but you figure you don't have to show-off to someone who's never had oral before, he's already blown away.

Humorously, 197's hands land on your shoulders, and that's the only way he can apparently steady himself while he's sucked off. His spare cock oozes precum that smears onto your bare chest and you half-heartedly pump it when you pop off his other dick.

" Is this okay, hm? " Needless question, really.

The breeder doesn't even make an effort to reply, whining at the loss of friction and edging forward until both his members nudge against your cheek and lips, begging without words to have that bliss again.

Feeling vaguely in control, enough to be playful, you lean away from the one closest to you and take the right one into your mouth, sucking it as far in as you physically can before switching to the other one, all just so you can hear 197 gasp and grunt out moans. His desperation causes him to buck, and as you gag, a little lightbulb fizzles above his head.

Oh.

Oh no.

The next time you try to pull away, his hands rise from your shoulders to the sides of your head. Each dark finger nearly curves over the perimeter of your skull, and you freeze instantly, not wanting him to tighten his grasp by any means. Everything is fine so long as he only holds onto your head this way, gently.

He's the one moving this time, apparently marveling at the sight of his length disappearing past your somewhat swollen, drooled lips. Except, as expected, he's going faster and deeper than you'd like, getting into it enough to trigger harsh flutters in the back of your throat. Your gagging and subsequent reflexive jerks are met with warning rumbles and one of his hands caging you in place by the back of head.

He learns fast, needless to say.

The more he drives into you, the less you can control your saliva, creating gross pops and slurps as you have little choice but to huff through your nose. Merciless, not even the odd cough around his dick will stop him now that he's nearing orgasm, or so you're willing to guess by his franticness.

Eventually, he makes the mistake of shoving his cock far enough that your jaw strains and your stomach flips, a grossly loud hurl being his response. The horrid noise finally jolts him to a still, giving you enough space to pull away and catch some much needed breath, controlling your belly before anything unfortunate happens.

" Fucking Hell! " You groan hoarsely, irritated. " You're hung like a horse, be careful... "

The rutting male's fried brain only understands that you sound wounded, a concerned chirp followed by soothing sloppy laps to your jaw being his response.

Not an ideal development at all, and yet, progress.

197 is usually very violent with the breeders they tired to pair him for mating. Which is to be expected, being the golden goose of the facility comes at a cost- The rush of hormones in his machine of a metabolism doesn't just contribute to more virility than his male peers, it also causes bursts of hyper aggression not easily controlled. And the only socialization this one usually gets is fights with other males who feel threatened by his presence, understand that they are being hurt by techs because they fail to live up to the standard 197 created, that they might be killed for such.

The females, likewise, fear him.

197 is bigger, louder, scarier. He has a reputation amongst the other breeders, and some of them were more likely to try fighting him off during their heats than accept getting sexual with him. This has led to 197 rejecting all breeders regardless of the context, which resulted in many of the paired females being immediately fatally attacked whenever a scheduled session was arranged. Sometimes he would simply slaughter them, other times he would actually instinctually attempt to mate, and end up ignoring cries of distress, nothing but rage and hormones in that brain causing him to end up killing them mid-coitus.

Shitshows, complete shitshows you've had the displeasure of partially witnessing in the past.

Which is why you're so incredibly shocked he stopped when he heard you nearly throw up. Then again, you're no breeder, and you like to think you've created as decent a connection with him as possible. It could be that.

When the monster thinks you've recovered enough, he attempts to get you to sit in the same position from before so things can resume, and if the way he's insistent on keeping a hold of your head is any indication, then he's learned he prefers to take control of this. And you won't be the fool that argues with him in this state.

After licking your lips a few times, hearing his impatient little huffs, you take one of those slicked cocks into your mouth again, letting him build the pace back up. On the one hand, you're glad you don't have to pretend to keep any composure, letting yourself drool as much as possible for the sake of making the process easier, and uncaring of the filthy noises that only seem to make his thighs quake. On the other, you need a solution so he doesn't just peirce past the back of your throat.

So, experimentally, the next time 197 pushes far enough to have your eyes rolling, you get a firm grasp of the base of his tail and tug.

The appendage lifts and his spine curves back in sudden shock. You doubt it's pain that has him straightening like a plank, after all, you know these beings can oftentimes carry their young by the tail, so if it can handle their body weight, then it can handle a yank from a human's hand. It's more so a sort of "freeze reaction", effective in getting the male to pull back even if he grunts in mild agitation.

It's only fair, in your eyes.

The moment you let go, 197 continues to fuck your face as he pleases, moaning and curving over you once more to find his own pleasure, until he drives in too much again and you repeat the gesture. Over and over, so he understands there are limits.

It seems to succeed in getting the message across. If he wants to keep getting sucked off by your hot little mouth, then he needs to be minimally considerate.

This goes on for a while, you're almost proud to feel him eventually actively hold back from going too far. Because that would halt the friction, and judging by the way his tongue lolls out in pleasure, 197 wants to come really bad.

He seems to have enjoyed your antics from before, because the male actively pulls out of your mouth with another lurid pop and positions his spare length against your lips, fucking into you a couple times before switching to the other one, doing this enough times that you honestly struggle to contain some laughter.

His throbbing increases and you know his peak approaches, quickly reaching beside you for the container as fingers race to open it. Your spare hand makes an extra effort to stroke the length 197 can't fit inside you and with as much vigor as possible, you complement his every motion.

The second you back away to breathe, strings of saliva still clinging from your lips to his dicks, offers the monster enough of a nasty view to trigger exactly what you need. 197 snarls at the top of his lungs, rapidly fisting both cocks before you. It's a decidedly disgustingly arousing display that has you staring heatedly, until the first rope of thick pearly cum lands on your cheek.

It jolts you into flustered movement, holding the canister up to the closest of his girths, you try to get as much as possible inside, unable to shield yourself from the rest of his load as it lands on your neck and tits, warm globs marking you in the throes of the specimen's ecstasy.

It's immensely relieving for him, the sighed, low and needy moans that rip out his throat evidence enough that 197 had been pent up for more than a while. And you... You're soaked in warm seed, observing his maddened jerking slow down.

This is your job now.

Personally collecting from the golden goose of the facility. All for a bonus.

Whatever, just don't think about it too much.

Giving into the guilty sense of pride you feel over making 197 stare at the ceiling in total bliss, you lean down to catch the trails dripping down those teal blue lengths, cleaning him. You don't have to, by any means, but you've already sunk so low today, what difference does it make if you let yourself go a little?

The specimen's legs tremble and he glances down at you with this utterly cum-drunk, infatuated smile. Dark, stained digits rise to comb through your hair in some kind of comforting gesture until you eventually pull away and allow the male to recover.

Now, two things.

You need to clean up somehow, you don't want his cum to dry on your skin.

There's also the matter of the second canister, you think while you grab one of the cloths in the breeder's nest to wipe your face and chest on. You probably won't be allowed to leave his cell until they're both full.

Reaching for the one already warm with 197's sample, you seal it tight, the small device in it emitting a faint green light and beeping quietly. The signal that one container has been filled is then sent to whichever tech is keeping track of this particularly... Unique task.

A pang of shame courses through you at the thought of one of your coworkers now knowing that you've made 197 orgasm.

Time to get the other one and hurry this up.

Unfortunately, as soon as you're about to set a foot outside of the nest, a huge black hand captures your leg, and you're possessively tugged back by a disgruntled breeder who barely gives you enough time to scream before he starts shredding the rest of your clothes...

Hours have passed. You're sure of it.

As far as anyone's concerned, your work has been accomplished. Both canisters are practically overflowing with untainted samples, sitting in the corner of the room so that nothing happens to them.

You're naked, sticky and likely to bruise in some areas from 197's lack of strength mediation, but you did it.

At any moment now, coworkers of yours will enter 197's cell, and you know it's going to be a total wreck. Between his likely immediate aggression, the damage they'll cause him and your less than sightly state, it'll be unpleasant.

But you can't bring yourself to care.

Not when a tireless tongue continues to groom your already exhausted form and 197's meaty cock lazily fucks globs of his hot cum back into your puffed pussy while he trills soothingly. His breathing has steadied and his heartbeat slows.

Any moment now, he might fall asleep inside you, enjoying a sweet moment of bliss before you're taken away again.

It's almost cruel.

[useless-catalanfacts]

Translation:

El Español (newspaper): The victory of parents like Sonia: 107 schools switch Valencian for Spanish because of the Mazón law.

Response: Is it possible that Spain is the only country where it's considered a victory the fact that your children will be only monolingual instead of bilingual?

Surely not the only one (imperialist countries very often try to exterminate the languages of the countries they occupy, which also means not allowing their children to learn the language of the place they move to), but Spain and France are particularly aggressive against the local languages that aren't Spanish and French, respectively.

Schools in the Valencian Country and the Balearic Islands (where the local language is Catalan or Valencian, two historical names for the same language) are being pressured to remove the local language from the school and to teach only in Spanish. In fact, the Spanish nationalist and far right-wing government of the Balearic Islands has announced that Catalan-speaking children and Spanish-speaking children will be segregated in schools from now on (parents will choose which school to send them to, accompanied with the propaganda pushing them to choose Spanish schools), with the purpose of reducing every time more and more who gets to speak and learn the islands' language, imposing Spanish instead.

Everyone learns Spanish regardless because it's the government's language and it's everywhere (TV, radio, netflix, social media, etc), plus we study it in school as a first language anyway. It's impossible to grow up here and not learn Spanish naturally as you grow up. But the same is not true the other way around. If children from Spanish-speaking families, immigrant families, and those families who have believed the decades of being told "speaking Catalan makes you sound uneducated/rural/stupid/rude, only Spanish is good for your children's future and makes you normal", if their children are only exposed to Spanish at home and on media, and because Catalan speakers are already bilingual and have an inferiority complex so will always switch to Spanish when talking to a Spanish-speaker, these children will never learn the language of the place they live in, and they will be monolingual Spanish speakers. When the number of monolingual Spanish speakers grow, Catalan speakers will be even more marginalized and won't be able to access healthcare in our language (though we already don't half of the time), won't be able to go to the shops and talk in our language, won't be able to have services in our language, etc. And, thus, they will have made our language almost useless for our everyday life. We will disappear from public spaces, and people will stop passing down the language to their children. And the language will die, and with it our way of understanding the world, the words that describe our culture, or our ability to read what our ancestors wrote, our country's literature, or to understand the names of the places we live in.

The point was always to exterminate our language and culture, to create their made-up dream of a unified Spain where everyone is the same, which has never existed. As Franco used to say, "we want an absolute unit. With one language: Spanish. And one personality: the Spanish one".

Cultural diversity is a richness and beauty of the world, and every language has an equal right to exist. Don't let anyone convince you that your language and your people don't deserve to live.