#orc headcanons

[witchthewriter]

𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝐻𝑒 𝑆𝘩𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: this includes ... all types not just one. So it's a bit of a 'preference.' (That's what we called it in the olden days ...)

Also this is 18+, not explicitely explicit but ... we acting like grown ups.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑽𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・He worships you in slow, deliberate ways. Your presence needs to be savoured, never rushed.

・Your relationship is intense. Full of tension and pure devotion.

・He is a creature of elegance and obsession. To him, love is eternal, a bond that transcends time, life, and even death. He does not just love you; he worships you.

・He follows you in the shadows, watching, ensuring no harm comes to you. He is always there, whether you see him or not.

・Jealousy runs deep. If another so much as looks at you too long, he will appear beside you, fingers brushing your throat in a quiet warning.

・He is a silent guardian, a ghost of devotion, ever watchful, ever patient.

・Oh god he just LOVES gifting you luxurious items...antique jewellery or the most expensive jewellery in the current trends, books older than empires or books he noticed you liked from BookTok, treats for your pets, snacks for you...

・His love is eternal, and that means he has to keep up with the times... he brandishes you with flowers, chocolate, hot coffee, the latest phone etc. To show that no matter how much time will pass, you and he are forever.

・Funnily enough, he will never let you be cold (unless it's Summer and you need his icy skin...that's the best feeling ever!) His touches, his whispers of raunchy thoughts...it's enough to have you looking away with warmth seeping into every bone in your body.

・Constantly tells you that, "You are mine."

・His nicknames for you are: 'beloved,' 'dove,' 'my heart,' 'darling,' 'blood of my blood.'

𝑾𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・Once you two decided to be a couple, you are his. Full stop. And everyone needs to know it.

・Your werewolf boyfriend is the embodiment of fierce devotion, raw passion, and unwavering protection. He does not love with hesitation. He is a ride or die.

・With werewolves, are pack creatures. You are his pack. His family. More than that, you are his mate. His soulmate. Therefore, everyone needs to know that.

・Whenever you're together, he keeps an arm around your waist in public, scent-marks you with his jacket, his hoody...his very presence.

・A big way he shows his love is through Acts of Service and Physical Touch...Your boyfriend loves to fix things for you, he gets the groceries, brushes your hair, massages your shoulders and back. He knows exactly where you left your phone, keys and glasses.

・He also carries you when you're tired...you don't even have to ask.

・Intimidating to others but to you, he's the softest, most gentle male you have ever met.

・He's always afraid of hurting you, so he makes sure to be extra careful.

・His mating instincts are also very, very strong. He leaves love bites, not enough to hurt - but enough to claim.

・He looks at you like you hung the moon. His entire world is centered around you.

・Calls you 'little one,' 'pup,' 'lamb,' 'sweetheart,' 'my mate,' 'sunshine,' 'precious.'

𝑶𝒓𝒄 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・“You are my heart. You are my home.” He speaks with no hesitation, because his love is truth.

・He does not hesitate. He does not doubt. You are his, and he will carve the world apart to prove it.

・Orcs do not love easily, but when they do, it is for life. You are not just his lover—you are his mate, his purpose, his home.

・When you are apart, he grows restless, his hands twitching, his jaw clenching. He does not handle distance well. You are meant to be by his side.

・If you are injured, he will not let you lift a single finger until you are fully healed. "You do not need to ask, little one. If you want it, I will make it so."

・The orc culture loves physical touch. Hugging, wrapping an arm around someone, kisses, forehead touches, leaning on each other, etc. It's what your boyfriend grew up with.

・He constantly pulls you close, runs his fingers along your skin, holds you against his chest

・He often carries you without warning, simply because he can.

・If you fall asleep against him, he will not move for hours, no matter how uncomfortable he is.

・If someone touches you with anything more than innocent intent, they do not walk away unscathed.

"No harm will come to you. Not while I breathe."

・Orcs do not believe in lies or empty flattery.If he tells you that you are beautiful, strong, worthy, he means it with his entire being.

・He does not buy gifts. He makes them. Your orc is an incredible crafter.

・He will forge a weapon; just for you. Engraved with protection runes. Jewellery; carved from bone, iron or stone. It's worn against his own skin before he gifts it to you. Therefore, it will carry his scent, his protection.

・Orcs believe in providing for their mate. If he is eating, you eat first. If there is little food, you get the best of it.

・He cooks for you, hunts for you, makes sure you are always fed and strong.

・His pet names for you are: 'little flame,' 'my treasure,' 'wife/husband' (even if you aren't married), 'warrior,' 'feisty one,' 'biter.'

𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏-𝑯𝒚𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒅 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・You are his greatest treasure. Dragons do not share. If he has chosen you, it means you are his, body and soul.

・He collects things that remind him of you—a lock of your hair tied in silk, a ring you once touched, a ribbon that still carries your scent.

・If you ever give him a gift, no matter how small, he hoards it like it is worth more than any jewel.

・His claws are sharp, his strength immense, yet he touches you with the utmost care.

・You are small in his arms, delicate compared to him, and it drives him mad with the need to protect you.

・Flying is sacred to him. To allow you on his back, to take you into the sky, means he trusts you completely.

・In his dragon form, you clutch the horns on his back as he soars across the sky. You feel the wind rushing past, the stress of the world just melts away.

・Tears spring to your eyes; either from the wind or your feelings...your love turns his head to look at you. His golden eyes gleaming. "You were meant to fly with me," he mind-speaks, voice filled with a deep, ancient knowing.

・When dragons love, they love eternally. He does not think in mortal years. He thinks in centuries.

・"You will stay with me," he murmurs, "won't you?"

・His wings tighten around you, golden eyes filled with something deep and yet completely full of vulnerability.

・He watches you with reverence, with something like awe, as if he cannot believe you are real.

・He calls you: 'my jewel,' 'star of my sky,' 'little love,' 'little bird,' 'my fierce love,' 'dragonrider.'

𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・He does not love like mortals do. He loves like a demon—raw, primal, unholy. He loves like he would tear the heavens apart for you.

・And he just might.

・He is always watching you.

・He knows your scent, your heartbeat, your dreams. He has studied every inch of you, memorized every detail.

・If someone else touches you? The air crackles with heat. His jaw tightens, his claws flex. He doesn’t tolerate competition.

・He has never raised his voice around you, always talks softly (he calls it seductively).

・The epitome of he hates everyone except you.

・The world fears him. His enemies kneel before him. But with you? He listens. He softens. He worships.

・His claws are sharp, but he never lets them harm you.

・His magic is dark, but he uses it to protect you, to keep you safe, to make sure no harm ever befalls you.

・Your demon LOVES to make you feel flustered. Flushed cheeks, red ears, stomach full of butterflies. He always makes you feel desired.

・"I would burn the heavens for you."

・He adores physical affection.

・Constantly has his hands on you. Holding your wrist, wrapping his tail around your waist, tracing invisible sigils into your skin.

・He's incredibly territorial over you.

・If you cry? He is not sure how to handle it. His hands twitch, unsure. His rage and power mean nothing if he cannot fix this.

・Demons are not supposed to have weaknesses. But you? You are his only one.

・He has existed for centuries, eons. He has known lust, hunger, desire. But love? Love is new. Love is terrifying.

・Love is you. And he is never going to let you go.

・He is the most fearsome creature until you show up and he turns into a pile of mush.

・Your lover calls you: 'little temptation,' 'darling,' 'pet,' 'hellfire,' 'my salvation,' 'bright one,' 'my favourite plaything.'

𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・Taught to love one being with complete and utter devotion...

・But your Angel would fall from 'God's Grace,' just to be by your side.

・Luckily, no one has found out about your relationship. He is your guardian angel...just one that you can see, hear, feel and touch whenever you desire.

・The way your Angel loves you is holy. It is divine. Sacred even.

・Believing you to somehow be a deity yourself, he only touches you with softness, with his fingers carefully ghosting over your skin. Aching for you.

・Angel has massive, white feathered wings that protrude from his back. Up close, you can see traces of gold among the feathers, making him glow ethereally.

・His large wings shield you from the world. As if he can create a sanctuary meant only for you.

・As a magical being, his kisses feel like pure sunlight...and joy...and the first day of spring.

・Yet if you are harmed, harrassed or bullied in one way or another, his golden eyes burn with fury.

・Violence is not who you know your boyfriend to be, but for you, he would destroy the world.

・His nicknames for you are: 'my light,' 'heavenly,' 'my everything,' 'pet,' (as in 'Petal'), 'seraph,' 'little star,' 'little goddess/god.'

𝑺𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒏 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・Your siren boyfriend is not just a creature of the deep; he is a thing of temptation, mystery, and obsession.

・He does not love lightly. He does not love softly. He loves like the tide, and you are the shore...forever changed by his touch.

・When he sings just for you, it’s not to lure, not to enchant. It’s to mark you as his, to let the ocean itself know who belongs to him.

・"You are mine," he whispers, voice soft but unshakable. "I have sung your name into the tides. The sea knows you now."

・His obsession is not cruel, not suffocating. It is devotion, unrelenting and infinite.

・When he holds you, it feels like being claimed, as if he is anchoring himself to you.

・His hands are cool from the sea, but his kisses are warm, deep, slow.

・Sirens are creatures of sound, of melody, of stories carried on the waves. ・His song is not just for you—it is about you. The ocean hums it, the seagulls echo it, the wind carries it across the water. ・And if you listen closely, you can hear it when the tide rolls in. The melody of his love, whispered in the waves. "Even if you cannot hear it," he says, "the sea will always know your name."

・If you ever enter the sea, it feels different now. As if it knows you, as if it welcomes you. ・You can swim longer, breathe easier, because his magic has seeped into your skin, tying you to him in a way that cannot be undone.

・If you accept him completely, if you give yourself to him fully, you will never fear the ocean again.

・Your siren calls you: 'songbird,' 'little minnow,' 'my melody,' 'precious pearl,' 'you are my tide, i will follow you anywhere.'

𝑬𝒍𝒇 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・He is a being that has endured centuries, seen empires rise and fall, even watched the stars shift in the sky.

・And yet, in all those years...he has never loved like this.

・In love, he is not rushed, not impulsive, not reckless.

・His love is patient, cautious, all-encompassing.

・It is a slow-burning fire, a heat that never dies.

・When an elf chooses a mate; it is eternal. A love that is woven into the heavens; into the very essence of the worlds.

・Elves are creatures of grace, of quiet strength, of whispered words that carry the weight of centuries.

・Your lovers touch is featherlight. As if he's afraid you will vanish beaneath his fingertips...as if you aren't real.

・He loves brushing his long fingers against your cheek, his knuckles grazing your lips, memorizing every single detail.

"I have seen a thousand sunrises," he whispers, "but none have been as beautiful as you."

・He loves gifting you with beautiful earthly things; flowers woven into a delicate crown, a bracelet of intertwined leaves, wooden carvings of all your favourite animals.

・When he is away, he writes you letters in Elvish, sealed with wax, filled with words so poetic they could break your heart. If you do not understand his language, he teaches you, whispering each word against your skin.

・His love is not loud, not demanding.

・He shows it in the gentlest of ways. Of doing things for you; cleaning your clothes, doing your makeup, helping you with your shoes.

・It's also in the way he turns his head to listen whenever you speak, the way he always moves to your side without thought. If you are tired, he carries you effortlessly, as if your weight is nothing to him.

・The trees know your name. The wind whispers it through the leaves...When you sit with him in a quiet grove, he closes his eyes and listens. The earth sings when you are near.

"The forest remembers you," he says, "as I do."

・His voice is always calm, near melodic.

・He does not simply say “I love you.” Instead he says:

"You are the first breath of spring after a thousand winters."

"My heart beats in time with yours."

"If the stars fell from the sky, I would carve new constellations for you with my own hands."

・And when he says your name? It sounds like a prayer.

・In Elven culture, hair is sacred. To touch someone’s hair is a sign of trust. But to braid it? It is an act, nay, a sign of deep devotion.

・When he braids your hair, he is not just arranging strands. He is weaving his love into each movement. He is binding you to him in the silent language of his people.

・If you braid his hair, he will close his eyes, exhaling slowly, surrendering himself to you completely.

"This is a bond," he whispers. "One that cannot be broken."

・Your nicknames are: 'starlight,' 'little fawn,' 'elenya" (Elvish for ‘My Star’), 'beloved one,' 'birdie,' 'I would wait centuries for you,' 'sweetheart.'

[meteors-lotr]

A group of Hobbits is called a herd

A group of Dwarves is called a pod

A group of Elves is called a dance

A group of Men is called a flock

A group of Orcs is called a nest

A group of Goblins is called a brood

A group of Wizards is called a problem

[monstersandmaw]

Your orc lover can’t get enough of the taste of you.

Tusks jutting against your skin as the two of you share ardent kisses, crowded back against the bedroom door; tusks framing that focused attention while you squirm and writhe beneath an insistent mouth; tusks pressing carefully against your body as you’re worshipped relentlessly.

Lifting your legs to rest easily on strong shoulders, huge hands digging into your thighs and hips, gripping and pulling you down as you’re devoured and adored.

Loving, languid licks while you lie there, boneless and spent, both of you breathing hard and sensitive all over…

Yes, your orc lover just cannot get enough of the taste of you.

[nerd-stuff-inc]

I woke up this morning thinking about Orc noses, so of course I had to write that shit down.

Orcs are basically the pugs of the fantasy world. Their flat faces are seen as weird and kinda ugly, but some people think they're cute. (And l am people.)

Also like a brachycephalic dog, they're prone to a lot of strange noises, especially when they're worked up. It's not uncommon to hear a symphony of snuffles before warriors head off to battle.

The same goes for when they're excited. Sometimes it's hard to tell if an orc has hay fever or she's just happy to see you. Snort laughs are the norm, too, so no need to be embarrassed about yours.

They snore like a freight train, but they're so used to it they still sleep soundly. Although, it does have its drawbacks. For most orcs, a totally silent night is unnerving .

They have a unique way of showing affection with their noses, too. If they like you, they'll press their face into your cheek or hair and give you a good sniff. Orcs don't have a great sense of smell, so it's considered a privilege to enjoy a loved one's scent. (If this one seems familiar, it's because it was heavily inspired by the Inuit kunik greeting.)

[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...

connected with this post!

[michaela-o]

Random things i think Cybertronians would find adorable about humans~♡ Pt. 2

1. Us getting scared by small things

Humans jumping or screaming at a bug, sudden noise, or a scare prank would probably seem hilarious to the bots, who would be 100% amused by how easily humans can be startled. I bet MANY bots would take advantage of this when there would be a lil human on the lost light. Bots like Whirl, Trailbreaker sometimes Swerve that would like to scare the human despite them telling him not to.

Ya all know the vine video? With guy that goes: "Aaah stoop im gonna drop my criossant."

Yes that XDD

2. Us getting lost even with maps or GPS

I personally have terrible sense of direction and orientation (*p_q*) And some bots catching humans struggle with directions, even with GPS, would be both puzzling and funny to them. They always wonder how humans get lost so easily. But come on give the lialison a break the lost light is fucken HUGE.

3. Getting “hangry”

I mostly get tired when i'm hungry but when im also irritated i become hangry. I think bots would find humans getting irritable when they’re hungry both funny and perplexing to them who might see it as an amusing “malfunction” due to our a basic need.

4. Human body “glitches”

Hiccups, sneezes or random muscle twitches and similar reflexes would be entertaining to the bots, who’d find these involuntary responses both weird and amusingly unpredictable especially when we tell them that we can't control them. Get ready to be friendly bullied for this by some of the bots.

Human sitting over on Swerve's bar counter: *sneezes*

Whirl: What the frag was that sound? A sparkling's war cry?

Human: ( ｡ớ︿ờ)

5. Collecting random souvenirs

Humans collecting small souvenirs, like seashells, keychains, or mugs from places they visit, would be amusing to Cybertronians, who might see it as an odd way of marking memories. Since from what i was reading in comics i didn't see any bots do this and i think they would find this pretty adorable. Almost like we materialize memories.

We are all like crows :3

6. Huddling for warmth

When humans instinctively huddle together or bundle up in thick layers when we're cold. Bots would simply find it cute amd definitively have to fight the yrge to just- squish-

Our need to find warmth and the cozy solutions we come up with would seem quaint and endearing (*´˘`*)

7. Gathering in groups for safety

The way we instinctively form groups, especially in unfamiliar or intimidating and scary situations would be both cute and a bit amusing to bots who might see it as humans’ way of finding strength in numbers despite their physical smallness. But we find great comfort in it ( *^艸^*)

8. Soothing or hugging each other in stress

When we instinctively comfort each other with hugs or reassuring words would be adorably puzzling to the bots, who’d find it endearing that humans can find peace in such small, gentle gestures. I bet a bot that is visibly sad would be pretty surprised when the human lialison comes up to them and just hug their servo and ask if they want to talk about it. It personally makes me happy when i can comfort and help someone in need ( ｡ớ ᴗờ)

9. Making eye contact to connect

Humans instinctively make eye contact to establish trust or share feelings, which many bots would find very intimate, sincere and honest because it shows how deep the personal nature of human connection can go ( ⁎ᵕᴗᵕ⁎ )

(bots getting lost in human's eyes is one of my guilty pleasures)

10. Fighting for what’s important

We humans naturally stand up for our values, friends, and families, often driven by an instinct to protect or defend what we love. I think bots would find this fierce loyalty and bravery adorably noble for such a small species such as us. I even think that many would take us for an example in this (｡>ㅅ<｡)

11. Helping others instinctively

Cybertronians would likely find this endearing that humans instinctively help each other out—whether holding open a door, picking up dropped items, or offering support without being asked. This is the very nature that makes us human (*´▽`*)

12. Blushing when embarrassed or flustered

The way our cheeks turn pink or red when we're shy, embarrassed, or flustered would be extremely cute to the bots, who’d see it as a “giveaway” that adds to our vulnerability and the fact that we just can't hide our emotions makes us very emotionaly transparent is just straight up adorable.

13. The way the human brain is so simple

I personaly am very simple human being and i find many stupid and simple things funny and laugh at them. I think because of this many bots would find us very innocent and adorable

(｡>▽<｡)

AAAAARRRGH there's so many other things i wanna write but i decided to make part two of this bc i enjoy writing this stuff. Dis a good soup :33

(i might add a small masterlist to my pinned post :3)

[monstersholygrail]

I know that dominating and intimidating monsters with a nice little sarcastic streak are hot and all, we love them and wanna fuck them, but can I also get some nerd monsters?

Like I just want a little nerd. I also want monsters who are just total dorks over their special interests and they share that with you in their own excitable ways.

Minotaur bf who’s a total dork over puzzles and games. You’ll come out into the living room at midnight, seeing the bed was empty, and you’ll find him sitting under the singular light of the dining table. Totally hunched over his almost finished puzzle that he started earlier that day. Then during game nights he’s an absolute best. You swear he’s the most competitive monster you’ve ever met. Winning round after round, chasing that high until he finally snaps and throws the board game off the table and you on it so he can celebrate his victory properly.

Orc bf who’s a fanatic about collecting weapons. He has all sorts of antique guns and swords. Many that you don’t even remember the name of and yet you can recite its entire history bc your bf will drone on and on about it. Whenever he gets a new weapon he gives you an entire tour of his collection room, showing you how he’s moved everything around to highlight his new weapon. You can’t help but find him painstakingly hot as he handles it and you make your interest known to him. His eyes darken, catching onto your meaning and suddenly you’ve replaced the weapon on the platform but he quickly returns it to its place as he fucks you with the handle, rambling about its many uses.

Dragon bf who’s hyperfixated on the quality of jewels and gold. He’s studied the art of jewelry making and blacksmithing. He can tell you the grade of a diamond just by glance, not even needing equipment to check. He loves to combine his two favorite things the most. You and the rest of his treasures. Adorning you with only his finest jewels and nothing else. Liking most how they barely cover anything up yet make your body shine like the angel you are. He almost can’t help himself as he throws you down onto his hoard and ruts into you, watching the jewels sway and bounce on your delectable body.

Werewolf bf who’s a complete gym bro and knows everything there is to know about fitness. He knows the perfect forms to every exercise you could think of, he’s memorized all the benefits to each individual piece of equipment, and he can tell you how best to maximize your time in the gym. Not that he ever would, respecting your level of interest or disinterest in the gym. He knows it’s more his thing and he’s happy you simply coming along with him to use the sauna for members only… and their guests. He loves the burn and the freedom of the run as he works out and releases that energy. But what he loves more is coming into the empty sauna after he’s done and making you both work up a real sweat as he takes you on the bench, the wet squelch of your joining bodies echoing off the walls.

[anomaliex]

I think Gorgug grows up trying to take up as little space as possible.

I think that as a child, before he was all that conscious of his own decisions, he broke a lot of stuff. That's fine, small children do that and his parents have had him since he was a baby. A huge baby, especially for gnomes. A huge baby that grew into a toddler the size of his parents who's (again, normal and okay) tantrums did actual property damage because he's an orc. They were never mad at him for it, they'd never be mad at a child experiencing big emotions and not yet able to process them or understand consequences, but we know how their families reacted to that. We know that they always saw him as something that would grow up to be a threat.

I think that pretty much as soon as he develops a sense of it Gorgug starts feeling ashamed. He's ashamed of how nothing ever fits right, and of how loud he gets when he's upset, and of how the other kids in the neighbourhood (because it's a small folk neighbourhood!!) get scared of him sometimes, and of how when he has bad dreams he breaks his bed and is unable to control himself, like a baby. There was probably a time where he thought he was really clumsy and he was ashamed of that too, but by the time he turns like twelve Gorgug kind of understands that he's not more clumsy than the average kid, it's just that every time he drops something or bumps into a shelf it'll do so much more damage than if anyone else he lives around were to do the same.

(And his parents are talented tinkerers but sometimes their work is so delicate and all he ever does is wreck things. He doesn't dare touch it no matter how much they try to share this passion with him — eventually they assume he just doesn't like it and they would never force him to do something he doesn't want. Gorgug doesn't let himself discover how much he enjoys it until sophomore year. I wonder if he regrets all those years he spent fearing the possibility of ruining things and depriving himself of something he ended up loving.)

(And he was never "stupid", it's just that all he ever thought himself of was a brute so he never entertained the possibility of his own intelligence until faced with it. He didn't know he could thrive academically so it wasn't something he ever considered committing to. He literally just played bloodrush because he was good at it, not because he liked it. He just thought he had to, and he thought math is something he couldn't possibly do. Why try?)

Entering Highschool Gorgug is very shy, and he doesn't really have friends. Adults always like to blame the latter on the first, but sometimes it's the other way around and sometimes it's a vicious cycle. Sometimes you're six years old and none of the kids in your elementary school class are anything like you but you desperately try to fit in until you slip up and show them how much of a freak you are one time (I think he got mad. I think he broke a table. I think someone cried. I think maybe there was a teacher who was so much smaller than him and looked at him as if he were something to be feared. I think that in that moment he decided that he is. Or at least his rage, maybe.) and then you never get to have friends again and you shrink in on yourself and you don't understand how anyone else does it — it's not even that you're scared you just don't understand, and maybe you just want to be alone. And then a happy outspoken child grows into a shy teenager because they don't have any friends.

I think Gorgug is careful. He is so gentle and empathetic and kind and he is so careful because every time he isn't something breaks. And every time he raises his voice someone is scared of him and all he ever wants is people to not be afraid. So he hunches over, and he stands in the corner, and he scoots to the very edge of the bench so you don't have to sit too close to him, and he takes every insult to his face without fighting back lest he'll get upset and despite all his fucking efforts all it takes is one asshole to take it too far and he feels himself snap and all he wants to do is break something and hurt and twist and kill. And that scares him. He doesn't allow himself to be angry (and as wonderful as Digby and Wilma are they don't understand. They don't understand that he has to be, that he has to let it out some time.) so he bottles it up and every time it explodes out of him he doesn't know how to handle it other than to swing his axe and kill maul bite snarl kill.

But then, his adventuring party seems to not mind his rage, or his size, or his freakish strength. If anything they seem to like it, or at least respect him for it. He's never considered doing something like music before because that's for talented people and it's art and he doesn't do art because his hands are only good for destruction, not creation. Right? He does the music anyway. It's nice because there he's allowed to be angry on the drums and no one thinks it's weird.

He meets a girl that finds his rage attractive and he was scared that he'd scared her but he didn't. Ragh becomes one of his dearest friends and maybe for the first time Gorgug looks at a raging (half-)orc — all snarling and panting and bearing his teeth and twitching at any sound or scent — and doesn't find himself appalled because all he sees is someone that's fighting to keep him and his friends safe. And oh, maybe it's okay to be enraged.

I think he grows into a young man that doesn't love being angry but stops hating it too. He likes, in a way, that he gets angry over the right things, and he likes that being angry enables him to protect those he cares for. In the end his rage is a survival instinct and it's good to be alive. That leads to him, for a while, only accepting his rage as something that's fine to express in combat, and if it's outside of combat then only to his friends. There's still this need to make himself palatable, to tone himself down so everyone stays comfortable around him, but that also fades eventually.

During junior year he does finally come out of his shell enough to just express his anger the second he feels it. I think it is liberating and it's also the scariest thing he's ever done, and he went through a forest that made him confront his deepest fears already. (And that's exactly what it was. The inconvenience to his parents, the fear it strikes in others, the rejection it brings, the way it seems to reduce him to a weapon or maybe a wild animal and to some people including parts of him means he absolutely cannot be an intelligent or loveworthy person. He's always been afraid of his own rage.)

I think that if a younger Gorgug could see his older self snarl at one of his friends for making a joke about his parents' lawnmower, with his tusks fully grown out and muscle finally starting to fill out his clothes a little, so strong and so dangerous and so unashamed of it, he'd feel no relief and only horror. I think acceptance is something that feels alien to him right up until he suddenly achieves it.

[davinawritings]

Orc Boyfriend NSFW Alphabet

Pairing: Orc x Fem Reader

Warning: Many NSFW Topics

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

Orc boyfriend prefers to pull you in his arms and partially over his broad chest after you have sex. He likes the feeling of having you close, his thick arm draped across your body and pulling you closer. He loves to leave your pussy dripping with his cum all night, so clean-up is pretty minimal.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

His favorite part of you is your thighs. He loves squeezing them and using them to lift you up and down on his cock. He loves giving them little sacks and watching the flesh jiggle. He especially loves when he’s fucking you, and you wrap them around his hips, trying to keep him as close as possible.

His favorite part of himself is his arms. He loves how strong he is and how much you love his arms. You are always clinging to his biceps if he is within touching distance, and your nails dig into the flesh of his arms as you clench on his cock.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Orc boyfriend cums a lot. He loves cumming inside you, whether it be in your pussy, mouth, or ass. He will definitely use his fingers to fuck his cum back inside you until you cum one more time.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

He is a possessive male who loves showing others what’s his. He secretly loves fucking you places he knows other orcs will walk by and see. He loves the idea of being caught but also that they will see him claiming you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?):

He is experienced. He knows exactly how to make your eyes roll back and fully uses that to his advantage.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

He loves it when you are on his lap. He likes to wrap his big hands around your thighs and guide you up and down on his cock until the only thing leaving your lips are his name and moans. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.):

Orc's boyfriend is in between. He loves teasing you, saying things like, “Aww is my love struggling to take my cock. Come on, you know you can do it. You’ve taken my cock a hundred times before,” or “Why are you pushing me away when you were just begging to cum. Don’t say it’s too much now, you were just crying to cum less than a minute ago”. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

The carpets match the drapes, but there is not a whole lot of grooming going on. He keeps it pretty natural.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect):

It honestly depends on what is going on at the moment. He can be romantic and take his time showering you in his love when you crave it, but most of the time, he prefers more fun and wild sex with you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

He has to jerk off when he is away from home. He is a warrior at heart, so he sometimes has to spend months away from you. He usually finds a secluded place to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking firmly as he imagines you on your knees before him, eagerly awaiting his cum on your tongue.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

Overstimulation: He loves to make you whine as he makes you cum repeatedly.

Size kink: This man is massive, so whether you are short, average, or tall for a human, he towers over you, and he loves it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

He is happy anytime he gets to fuck you, but he gets off on the idea of getting caught, so anyplace where another orc or even human may walk by, he loves. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

Practically everything you do turns him on, but some examples are:

Riding a horse because seeing you bounce up and down gives him very dirty thoughts.

Bending over with your ass facing him, the male practically takes it as an invitation every time.

Seeing you hold a weapon, even if it is just you moving one of his while dusting some shelves.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs):

Share you with another. He likes when other orcs see him fucking you, so they know you are his, but he would never let it go further than that. You are his and his alone.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

He loves eating you out, but there’s something that drives him crazy about when your mouth is wrapped around his cock. Seeing this small human attempt to take his massive cock just gets him so turned on. He watches you struggle to take only the head and groans as you stroke the rest of him with your hands. He loves cumming in your mouth because just the first few spurts alone are enough to fill your mouth thoroughly, watching you struggle to swallow fast enough not to waste any.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

He is a big fan of hard and fast sex. You always joke that he basically bullies your pussy, but with how much he makes you cum and squirt on his cock, you cannot deny how much you love it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

He is a big fan of quickies. Any time he has his cock in you, he is a happy male. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.):

He isn’t a big risk taker other than voyeurism and maybe testing the limits of your pussy with the size of his cock. If you mention you want to try something, though, he will be open to trying just about anything for you,

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?):

He can go a max of two rounds without needing a real break, but he lasts a long time, so those two rounds will tire you out completely.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

He doesn’t really use a lot of toys. He prefers using his cock, fingers, and tongue on you. However, he enjoys tying you up with rope occasionally, so he has you entirely at his mercy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

He likes to tease you verbally quite a lot. He loves seeing you cum, so he much prefers overstimulation and teasing you about that as opposed to something like edging.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

He is LOUD. Between praising and teasing you, he is a talker. Combines with the loud groans and grunts as he fucks into you… Let’s say no other orcs want their home close to yours.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

Orc boyfriend likes to pretend he is completely in charge, but truthfully, you both know that you have him wrapped around your finger and willing to do anything you say. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

Massive cock. The shaft is long and very thick. Your fingers don’t come close to touching when your hand is wrapped around him. Overall, he is about nine inches long. The shaft is a dark green. His cockhead is a deep pink, almost red when he’s hard. His cock is pretty smooth though he does have two very pronounced veins that run the length of his cock. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

It’s pretty high. Everything about you turns him on, so he is almost always ready to go and wants you. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward):

He is very quick to fall asleep. Once his balls are emptied, he is ready to pull you into bed and sleep for hours.

[ameliathornromance]

Travelling Orc, who prefers to walk alone. He is a nomad with no name and no company. Who needs other people, anyway? They only hurt and lie.

Travelling Orc, who knew he shouldn’t have helped you out of that cell. He was solely responsible for his carelessness. He shouldn’t have got caught by that wizard.

Travelling Orc, who’s own damn bleeding heart couldn’t leave you there to suffer.

Travelling Orc, who lets you come along with him when you tell him you have nowhere else to go.

Travelling Orc, who gets used to your company and learnt that you have your own set of useful skills - spells, potion making and astrology.

Travelling Orc, who doesn’t understand why he gets annoyed when others speak to you in Taverns. He punched a halfling once for daring to offer to pay for your drink.

Travelling Orc, who grumbles in (fake) annoyance when you fret over injuries from trying to get a bounty. He won, don’t worry. But that’s not what you care about. He knows that.

Travelling Orc, who almost murdered a royal company. Upon realising that they chased you down on horseback after using magic to heal a wounded rabbit.

Travelling Orc, who had no choice but to tell you how he felt when he believed he was on his deathbed. Bleeding from his wounds he sustained from the battle with the company.

And who was happier than ever, when he awoke in your arms.

Patreon

[queenie-the-court-jester]

A devil in disguise

Yandere fantasy ocs x gn reader

They're not really yandere in this fic, I'm saving that for later

Tw: none that I can think of, not proofread 🌺

⭐you were just an ordinary villager. Living in a cottage you Inherited, making a living by owning a bakery in the nearby village. You didn't think there was anything appealing about you. Nothing making you stand out. Well, the villagers thought differently. It was mainly filled with different mythical races, making you the only human.

⭐one day you were setting up shop like always, a suitor or two trying to get your attention when suddenly screams could be heard from outside. Rushing to see what was the commotion, a young.. girl? Man? Was fighting off a horde of wild goblins. Littering the ground with their little bodies. They fought valiantly, slashing one after the other.

⭐in the end they came out victorious, but heavily injured. You herded the other villagers away, a bar maiden helping you pick up the adventurer and taking them to your little bakery. She set them down and quickly left as you looked for your first aid, carefully cleaning up the blood and grime off their face.

⭐you did end up requiring to remove their clothing to better patch them up, sincerely hoping they wouldn't feel uncomfortable once they woke up. You stayed overnight in the bakery since your cottage was pretty far and you didn't want to leave the newcomer alone. The sound of fabric rustling woke you up.

⭐ lifting your gaze upwards, you were met with big green eyes staring into your own, faces inches apart. Their blonde hair was messy and a strand draped across their face. They reached a hand out, and booped your nose before pulling away. Intently observing the room.

"uhm.. thank you for fighting off those feral goblins. What is your name, sir or ma'am..?"

"Gideon. What is your name, lovely?"

"y/n. It's a pleasure to meet you"

⭐Gideon thanked you repeatedly and offered to help you out for a bit. You agreed, and with the time they spent with you,you learned they were a he. They didn't mind any pronouns, just that they were born amab.

"you see. I was on my way here to wait for my friends when I noticed those nasty green bastards hiding in the bushes. I couldn't just let those vermin attack such a lovely village."

"you're very brave Gideon.. I wish I knew how to swing a sword"

"I can teach you, if you'd like my dear"

⭐ Gideon shows you the basics of wielding a sword, he offered to show you how to hunt game aswell. The first hunt came out.. interesting. He'll have to make you exercise with him daily from now on.

⭐2 weeks have passed now, Gideon was helping you bring groceries into your cottage when you heard a loud yelling coming from not too far away

"GIDEON!? IS THAT YOU?"

⭐ turning around, you spot a girl who seems to be your age standing a few feet away. She seemed tired yet so elated. Gideon set down the basket carrying the vegetables and quickly rushed over to her

"darling! Oh there you are! Where are the others? Are you alright? You're not hurt are you?"

⭐the girl waved off his worrying, about to say something when suddenly she turned her attention to you

"Wow.. well hello there gorgeous~"

⭐the girl walked up to you, wiggling her eyebrows and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. You could only stare at her and laugh in mild amusement. After Gideon thoroughly disciplined her on why she shouldn't flirt with people she doesn't know, you learned that their entire party were on their way to recollect him.

⭐so now you had 2 roommates. It was pretty fun, they helped with chores and kept you company. Darling seemed to really like your bakery, helping every chance she could. They enjoyed being with you, you were so much fun! They knew they'd have to leave as soon as the others came, so One night, the two waited for you to go to sleep. Talking outside near a pond, a bit far away from the cottage

"I don't know Gideon.. they're not exactly built for adventuring with us.."

"yes.. but you weren't built for this life either. We trained you. And we can do the same for our little y/n. They already knows the basics, We'll just need to convince them before the others arrive"

⭐and that's what they did. For the next three days, they kept pestering you to join their party. So don't worry, they'll train you. Aren't you tired of this boring life? Don't you wanna explore? Just find someone to run your bakery for you until you come back!

⭐and that's how you ended up here. Catching a ride on ogmund, the party's barbarian tank. You were happily chatting away, braiding his hair while you were at it. He told you all about his tribe, orc traditions, his past adventures. You nodded along, adding input every now and then

⭐darling was walking alongside you both, chewing on something, you don't know what, and holding ogmund's hand. The orc seemed use to the girls touchy nature. Darling was the party's druid. Specializing in healing and natural magic. Her little ears would twitch, with the occasional flick of her tail. Panther hybrids were so cute.

⭐Gideon was the party's paladin, you remembered they told you about their reasoning for choosing this life. As a boy his family was slaughtered, leaving only him and his younger sibling rougé Alive. Their mothers were brothel workers while their father was the owner. Don't ask them about their family.

⭐rougé was the party's bard. They were a half elf, like their brother and very flirty and touchy with whoever they deemed as a fun pick. Darling seemed to be their main target since she gets easily flustered. You had the sneaking suspicion they often slept together with how their physical affections towards her seemed too intimate. The only reason they didn't come after you so often was because they didn't ogmund to snap their spine in half

⭐mikal was the party's sorcerer. A stubborn little prick, proud and haughty. Just give him a good thwack on the head and he'll shut up. Once, you you were playing with his hair and he stood rigid the entire time. Simply nodding when you'd compliment his beautiful silver locks. It contrasted well with his near black skin. Who knew dark elves were so sexy? (Fucking everyone)

⭐venus was the party's cleric, and boy, darling had massive beef with him. For what reason? You don't know, they just really fucking hated eachother. Venus, out of everyone, was the most reserved. It'll take you a whole to tear down his walls but you'll get there eventually.

⭐from what the party told you, you were on your way to save a couple friends. You were practically buzzing with excitement, your first real adventure! Maybe you'd find a fighting class that suits you best while you're at it.

⭐ blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes staring at you from stop the trees..

[witchthewriter]

New Orc Post: Got the Green Light!

I have written consent from the creator of the Orc Boyfriend series on Youtube (I advise you go and listen, my headcanons will go with each episode-) His name shall not be revealed until the episode in which it is. As it goes with the plotline. The audio author has chosen the right image for what our Orc BF looks like, however, I've chosen the other two. You can always decide what he looks like! Whether he looks like he's from World of Warcraft or the world of DnD. He doesn't have to be green, he can be any colour (some are grey, blue or ... 'human' colour).

Be on the look out for the first post, it's in the works.

Comment if you want to be tagged, sorry if I seem over the top - but this is my first time writing about monster love and this character has STOLEN my heart. Along with the fact that the literal person who created him has written back to me has ... made my whole life.

Anyway, hope you're having a nice day! And make sure to listen to the audio asmr/roleplay!

[meteors-lotr]

Thinking about alcohol and alcohol tolerance in my lotr headcanons.

Cause like, okay weakest drinkers? Dwarves. Such a low alcohol tolerance, their drinks are like 0.5 to 0.7. The real hard hitters to them is like 1.2, and then you’re getting bold with it. During their journey, one of the dwarves offered Bilbo a sip of dwarven mead, and it was like fucking water to him, like he somehow got less drunk than he was before.

Humans, we’re humans. Just, average tolerance

Elves? Mainly wine drinkers this lot, and they have fairly high tolerance. Their beverages are usually like, 60%. In reality elves have like, average tolerance, they just have had like thousands of years to build it up.

Now Hobbits? Insane little dudes. Their drinks are actually lethal to most other species. Just as big of drinkers as they are eaters, mainly cause if they drink anything that’s not tailor made for hobbits, they will have to drink a lot to feel like anything. They have livers of steel this lot.

And orcs? Orcs don’t drink. Kay they working that none to five, they got jobs, they busy. They’re huge stoner bros, but alcohol is not their thing.

[monstersandmaw]

imagine if orcs' tusks were held with social and cultural importance and so their dentists are hailed with as much esteem as their bravest warriors xD

This is definitely a thing. No one wants an infected jaw from a cracked tusk, so everyone respects dentists and healers highly in orcish society.

(i've had an ask like this before, where anon was talking about two orcish offspring - one was a warrior and one was a dentist and the dentist was met with even louder cheering than the warrior, I think!) I also answered with more detail, but I can't find it, thanks tumblr!!)

[sesamenom]

third kinslaying version of this

[falmerbrook]

Ear Headcanons

So this was meant to be just my headcanon for the differences between the different mer races' ears (size, shape, if they can move on their own, etc.), but there's a tinge of just general visual differences between them in there too (because this ended up being really good face practice for me). I'll mostly talk about ears though. Obviously this is more meant to be general trends than hard and fast rules.

I'll start with the playable races.

Altmer

Tall and skinny ears that can move out and back a bit (moderate range of motion). They mostly are close to the head but can also stick out a bit.

Dunmer

They have a wide variety of how their ears can be shaped; small, tall, wide, big, straight up, curvy, etc. The typically stick out more than Altmer's and have a larger range of motion.

Bosmer

The largest variety of any of the races. Their ears can look like just about anything any other race has (except maybe Maormer) from any mer ears, to more human ears, to more animal-like ones. They have a large range of motion regardless of how they look.

Orsimer

Small, almost human-sized ears, but they stick out more from the head than humans and can be wider. The pointed end tends to stick out. They can rarely move.

Breton

Breton basically just have human ears with a little point at the top. I thought it would be fun to draw a sort of comparison to your average Nede and average Breton to highlight the subtle more merish look that I think Bretons should have too.

Ok now for non-playable races

Snow elves/Falmer

Ok so I have terminal Falmer brainrot so I have a lot of completely made up headcanons for these guys sorry lol.

Snow elves have the least variety. They are usually shorter and closer to the head than the other mer races (which evolved as an adaptation to counter frostbite in my headcanon) and can't move. Conversely, I like to headcanon that falmer are on their way to evolving rudimentary echolocation, and therefore have huge ears that stick out far from their head, and are very mobile (this is also why their faces are covered in wrinkles). They can look more traditionally merish, or some of them have real funky shapes.

Chimer

Basically a mix between how the Altmer/Aldmer and current Dunmer look (both in their general appearance and ears). Think of it like the transition between the Aldmer look and Dunmer.

Dwemer

Dwemer have relatively short ears (compared to other mer) and don't stick out much, but they can be wide along the side of the head. Their shape is usually pretty angular and have limited mobility.

Aldmer

Your standard pointy fantasy elf ears. So I technically headcanon the Aldmer as many different (although similar) groups that are referred to as one group due to the nature of retelling history and some propaganda sprinkled in there, but in general, since the other mer of Tamriel descended from them, I see them as sort of generic. Nothing particularly notable in their ears. Minimal to moderate ability to move them.

Ayleid

Curvy. They have Aldmer sized ears with twisting and curving in different directions. Limited movement, and not too much range in size (just shape). I have 0 reasons for thinking this, I just thought it would be fun and unique and maybe fit their aesthetics.

Maormer

I like that canon Maormer ears look fin-like but I want to turn it up to 11. Large variety of shape and size, but usually large and fin-shaped as a general trend. Huge range of movement.

Ohmes/Ohmes-raht

They aren't elves, but they are described as human/mer-like, so I figured I'd include the Ohmes. They usually have pointy, mer-esque ears, but less distinct than most mer. Despite being relatively small, they have a wide range of movement for their size (and move in similar ways to the way cats ears move for the rest of the Khajiit). They can be extra fuzzy or have little tufts at the end for Ohmes-raht.