#cause all the lore cool but no humans

[silusvesuius]

fictional female characters and characters with insanely obvious cluster B personality disorders will never know peace as long as te/s fans keep making posts about them i mean it

[no1ryomafan]

I realized more and more how my “robo autism” as I call it differs from other people’s obsession with robots because I’ve seen people who like robots completely looking un human as possible and there also be little humans within in the media, they just want robots, meanwhile the reason I enjoy robots is when they are used as a way to look into the philosophy of being human.

I like robots that are made to look human and interact with human for the conflict it causes of “how human can you make something that’s not human? Is it worthy of being accepted as a person?” since it brings up a lot of existential and interesting questions. I only tend to like robots that don’t look super human if they’re mechas cause they still have a relationship with humans, the sentience can go either way as even if I do like robo sentience not every mecha story needs it and I oddly prefer the route of “it can’t speak but it’s alive” rather then it talking, because it just feels more eerie then a giant talking robot.

I know to some people if they see this I’m gonna come off boring and like yeah maybe I do cause I know robot designs have more potential when they aren’t bound to human stuff, and I’m not saying anyone who enjoys the other way is bad, but this is just why I realized certain robot media clicks with me and others don’t. (Also my brain makes everything needlessly complicated lol)

[vonkarma2]

going to get crucified for admitting I actually don’t like most portrayals of dragons in fantasy

[kavehater]

the funniest thing ever is when I’m telling a story in my heart ik is probably excruciating for the other to hear (overthinking core) but then the other is like tell me but it’s not the words they say it’s the specific vibe I get too

[syrinq]

thinking about the fact that i do like forgotton realms-adjecent (fantasy equivalent of star wars-sized ip) games but then i have to grab a broom and hit anyone appearing out of the shadows who goes "now play dnd (or any ttrpg) with me" extremely violently so they remain in the dark for another 5 million years

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

not enough spoons to explain adherant to ffxiv lore

but dragoon jump powers+ wheelchair = crazy ass shit.

its just always arm day not always leg day in terms of aether powering ur muscles

just pretend for a sec that putting that amount of force into one push would just propel you fast and not go horribly wrong, but that could be cool as fuck!

if you are in any cutscene w emo mc dragon issues[estinian] u know dragoon jumps can be insane, so if you say used that power with a wheelchair?

it would be hard in of terms combat with probably needing some modifications in order to work around the fact for mobility you kinda need two hands to steer and most weapons need at least one hand.

BUT still: i cant remember it saying anywhere that its a dragoon only skill, just that they were the only group that decided to go ham on leg day as oppose to spellcasting or archery when faced with big fuckoff flying lizards so its entirely possible that you could just spend a few years training, get a good wheelchair and boom. your faster than all most all modes of transport. and even if you cant do it withought dragoon training gimme a job crystal and a spear and ill kill all the dragons i want to be able to pop a wheelie all the way from dragons head to the astralogim observatorim or whatever

anyway tldr: in mad fantasy worlds you can almost always have a lore adherent way to be disabled and still kick ass. or at least have quality of life improvements without the whole 'we have healing magic so no disablitys exist exept for the occasional amputation'

squenix i still hate you but ff14s a banger and i will never again complain about queue times if i can watch dudebros have a meltdown over the wol being able to use a wheelchair and still, u know, kick ass and be the warrior of light.

its an mmo. you can play as furry bait [twink], bunny person, or furry bait [bear] among others i think we can have a goddamn wheelchair [and if u pull a 'it affects your charecters combat negatively becuase realism' im pulling a glock out of my ass and shooting you. its fantasy. ive already thought for five minuits and made some stuff work, and u can always dump new lore]

[prosthetics and other adaptive devices would be cool to. you have all the garlean tec and also the ironworks they can make a cool prosthetic for an arm [diff attachements for diff weapons/tools].look if u can be blind but not because u can see through aether currents you can probably also have magic hearing aids. the list goes on]

[wonderjanga]

Can I Please be Your Friend?

Billy doesn’t have friends. Between being Marvel and working odd jobs, he hasn’t really had the time some. So when he got invited to join the newly formed Justice League. He was ecstatic! Sure, these people were at least a very minimum of 20 years older than him and sure they would probably talk about taxes and stuff, but superhero friends! Meanwhile, the Justice League is like, “wow this guy is so social. I like it!”

Marvel: “You have a lighthouse…?” *sounds so amazed*

Aquaman: “Yeah. My dad was a lighthouse keeper so I got it when he passed.”

Marvel: “That’s so awesome! Can I come over?”

Aquaman: “Oh, okay? Sure?” *a little surprised he asked but eh whatever*

That was how Arthur spent the day showing Cap around the lighthouse. The man was a really good listener and was surprisingly very interested in listening to Arthur talk about how to use the light. You couldn’t even ask Arthur how they both ended up jumping off the railings of the lighthouse of dive into the water. You also couldn’t ask him how they ended up having a water fight, with the Atlantean calling for some sea creatures as back up. You also also couldn’t ask him how shocked a hotdog vendor was when he saw Captain Marvel and Aquaman, both of which who are supposed to be revered heroes, soaked, looking like wet dogs, asking for a couple of hotdogs after they nearly caused a tidal wave.

They got scolded by Batman a little while later for acting like children and almost causing the previously mentioned tidal wave. It was a little funny to see Batman scolding a man a solid two feet taller than him.

Soon after that whole incident, Marvel went to befriend Martian Manhunter next.

Marvel: *staring at J’onn while holding a box of cookies*

MM: *can hear him thinking about how to approach him and looks over to Marvel*

Marvel: *thinks a little too loudly and J’onn hears a nearly deafening “FRIEND”*

MM: *flinches and clutches his head* “Captain. Is something the matter.”

Marvel: “Oh uh…” *walks over and looks between the cookies and J’onn* “I was uh- wondering if you wanted to eat these with me.”

And that’s how J’onn spent the rest of the afternoon eating cookies with Marvel. J’onn had at first thought Marvel was quiet because he was something humans called awkward. But no, every now and then, when J’onn forgot that humans preferred to keep their thoughts private, he’d hear how happy Marvel was that he accepted. He’d also heard a couple other voices which was slightly concerning. He didn’t know if that was normal for humans or not.

Then, the next was Batman. Bruce honestly didn’t even know how they had started talking about this. All he knows is that they were talking about the team’s performance in the field, then that somehow transitioned into talking about superheroes in general, which then somehow led to fictional superheroes, which led to now:

Marvel: “Oh, you like Gray Ghost?”

Batman: “I was… a fan of him when I was a child.” *doesn’t know why he’s telling Marvel this*

Marvel: “Cool! Did you see the movies?”

From there on was a forty minute yapping session about Gray Ghost, his lore, the movies, the comics, the action figures, and so on.

Marvel: “I even had his comics as a kid too.”

Batman: “Really? Reprints or originals?”

Marvel: “I wanna say originals? What do you mean by reprints though?”

Batman: “Reprinting is when they take a comic, and remake it to look a little better, such as brighter colors or slightly tweaked dialogue, so they can sell it again.”

Marvel: “Oh. Then I’d say I probably have originals then.”

Batman: “Interesting. Those are collectors items now. They go for thousands.”

Marvel; “Really?!” *eyes nearly bug out of his skull* “Huh. I had no idea. Which ones did you have?”

Batman: “Mostly reprints. But I do have a couple originals on display.”

So yeah. The two were geeking out and stuff. Bruce honestly has literally no one to talk about this with so he’ll admit he was a little (a lot) happy.

We can’t forget the other JL heroes though.

Flash: “Like, he is so nice, and for what?”

GL: “I know right he let me ramble for like 45 minutes about planes! He was asking questions too!”

Supes: “And he’s always willing to help with anything. I didn’t even get to finish asking if he could cover my monitor shifts before he said yes.” *sounds slightly guiltily (he still feels bad for asking)*

In conclusion, Billy really wants to be friends with these guys, and his methods are definitely working.

[critterbitter]

re: your thoughts on legendaries (which is very cool and based) what’s your take on the differences between legends:arceus giratina and platinum giratina, especially since you defined them as hating the world? specifically the bit where giratina (at least seemingly) actively defended the world from cyrus trying to destroy it, after trying to do the same thing with volo’s help centuries prior?

Weird ghost worm upon yee (AND MORE ART BELOW CUT!)

Anyways, here’s my mad ramblings about Giratina and Arceus’s backstory.

Tldr: Giratina’s a conglomerate of angry souls scorned by Arceus.

(Here’s the playlist. It’s all about worms.)

How it Started.

The original one has chosen favorites over the passage of time. Heroes, legends, protagonists…

Arceus intervenes for those it loves, and the consequences of a god touching the mortal world is devastating in its entirety. One act of divine intervention causes entire civilizations to collapse. One whispered suggestion drives an entire legacy insane.

So Arceus, paralyzed by its love for the mortal world, acts very little, learning from its mistakes. Apathy soaks through every motion. And thus is the way of the world.

But people love the Originator. Religions are born from Arceus’s rare deeds, and generation on generation taught its benevolence. Imagine spending your entire life chasing after that golden light. Imagine knowing its real and there, and it loves you.

Imagine begging it for help, and seeing it turn away when you need it most.

I think those people would feel very abandoned indeed, if they spent their lives worshipping, and receiving no response at all.

Giratina is born from the abandoned, the lost, and the angry. They’re a hundred thousand souls who’s adoration turned to spite. They’re an entity who demands for Arceus to look at them, so they can finally rest.

Arcues can not look at them in full, because if it does Giratina will fade.

(Scio, beloved. For I can not let you go.)

So the Original One banishes the Unwanted Beast into the distortion world, and Giratina seethes, and starves, and screams.

(Here are two truths about the Beast Between Dimensions—

1. Some part of them still loves Arceus. Arceus is their anchor, after all— the sole reason why they exist, why they are. But Arceus can not love it back in a way that matters, and that hurts.

2. Giratina is made of a thousand voices. Some of these voices remember that there’s a world above. They miss it.)

Why Giratina attacked Hisui in PLA:

PLA Giratina’s not a new god, but they’re very, very bitter and barely coherent on a good day. Volo serves as a conduct to help unite the broiling mass of ghosts against Arceus, and thus Giratina’s hatred overcomes any flickering affections they have for the land.

It doesn’t help that Arceus intervened for Hisui, sending Akari to directly stop Volo from summoning Giratina.

(As for Volo, well.

Imagine being a child who was thrown into the future due to Palkia and Dialga’s fits, who learned his people (his world) no longer exist beyond a shadow in the history books and a single, bitter lore keeper.

Volo doesn’t remember his original culture beyond vague imprints and singing praises to Sinnoh, but he knew he was loved, and he knew his family is dust four hundred years in the past. There’s a special sort of rage in him that echoes Giratinas.)

(Why did you abandon my people, Arceus? What kind of god are you, to leave those who love you so callously behind?)

(Maybe some part of Giratina recognizes Volo, beyond a feeling of kinship.

Maybe some part of Giratina grieves because it recognized the child Volo was.)

When Volo gets his pound of flesh, (when he realizes Arceus is not beholden to him, that the inherent alien morality Arceus holds is not a personal slight), Giratina will finally rest.

Anyways what I’m trying to say is: Arceus is never a person, but a nebulous embodiment of the connection shared between pokemon and humans. It tries to experience what it’s supposed to embody, but millennia of watching people be and cease has given it choice paralysis, apathy, and a hoarding issue. If something lasts forever next to it? Good.

Giratina was once a person. (Correction, a LOT of persons.) They don’t think very linearly either, but they have context on mortal matters and are thus the more benevolent and malicious of the two. One day, time will smooth them into something like Arceus. We can only hope the two keep each other in check.

THE DIFFERENCE OF LEGENDS ARCEUS GIRATINA VS PLATINUM PEARL GIRATINA

If the ancient version of giratina is an angry conglomerate of ghosts scorned by Arceus, the modern iteration of Giratina’s a creature that’s more settled in its skin and more assured in its duties. Giratina still has beef with Arceus, but they unionized into one being who’s love of the mortal world has triumphed over its ancestral grudge. One might even postulate they have shifted their anchor from Sinnoh the god, to Sinnoh the place.

((We call this character developement. Good for you, weird ghost worm!))

(((FULL DISCLOSURE, VOLO BEING FROM THE PAST IS INSPIRED FROM FOXFALL. You know. The fic that got me into this fandom. Please give it some love.)))

[lizzybeeee]

THE ENTIRE DRAGON AGE AMA IS A DUMPSTER FIRE

They avoided all the high-rated questions with genuine criticism (not blind hate!) and went for questions that were safer and allowed them more leeway. After that awful IGN article and that treatment of Davrin...God, just put it down. I have no faith that BioWare will be able to continue Dragon Age or Mass Effect with the respect it deserves.

Edit - They had an opportunity for genuine discussion with fans who were concerned/unhappy with the way Veilguard was -> people unhappy with the story, the marketing, the lack of 'RP' options in an RPG, etc... Instead they just doubled-down even more, avoiding those critical questions, with no real acknowledgement that fans have very reasonable problems with this game.

Some Highlights & My Initial Ramblings Below:

The Executors

"They attempt to manipulate events in the most subtle way they can manage."

So, very clear that they're not simply observers of what is happening in Thedas: they're manipulators...

"Magical Illuminati Confirmed! Lizard People Did 9:30 Dragon!!!!"

All that complexity of character -> his hatred of Orlais, his experience as a general, his relationship with Cailain, and the influence of Howe...all diminished. Any influence from a shadow cabal is too much influence - all the humanity of Loghain's choices/consequences...God, what a waste.

Not to mention what this does to other events/characters in the series -> they imply they've been intervening as far back as the magisters breaking into the golden city. I do not find this compelling! At all!

2. Solas and the Executors

Oh my god, he sounds like such a fucking Mary-Sue I'm so sick of Solas at this point -> "Actually, I know more about the Executors than anyone alive - not even the rest of the Gods know as much as me."

("I'm also, like, an Ancient Elven God, I'm responsible for the Blight and the Veil, and I kind of locked the Gods away cause they were evil - but, like, I'm really sad about it. Also the Herald of Andraste thinks I'm cute <3")

<- Previous comments: massive oversimplification, obviously

But I miss the days when not everything was about Solas. It removes so much interest and wonder in this world when the fucking egg is behind it all. I loved him as a character in DAI and now I just feel this bone deep tiredness when I see his stupid face.

Don't you dare threaten to bring Gareth David-Lloyd back -> keep him away from this mess!

3. The Fate of the Rest of the Evanuris

Yay. I'm so looking forwards to "The Return of the Elves: Electric Boogaloo 2" - it was done so well the first time!

"It was the elves all along!"

The only character with any potential to be interesting is Andruil*, but how they handled all this lore was done so shallowly and so poorly that I find it hard to give a damn anymore. Not to mention that the game literally mentions Ghilan'nain mourning Andruil - so is this a retcon/redirection/or have you confirmed that one of the most interesting members of the Evanuris' is dead?

*interesting in that she's established in lore to potentially have a tonne of really cool things attached to her (the void armour, the great weapon she has etc...). The rest of the evanuris are nowhere near as well established as she is.

4. Southern Thedas, Sociopolitical Issues, and Future Games

NOW YOU WANT TO INCORPORATE GEO-POLITCAL EXPLORATION?? You avoided any meaningful discussion like the plague in DATV but now you're acknowledging it?? OkaY. okAy.

They couldn't even give us the long-term ramifications of the mage/templar war how the hell am I supposed to believe that they will be able to pull off 'elven gods are real' etc...? For a game series that totes : your choices matter -> they have not proven that they have been able to show that in a meaningful way. They literally cleaned the slate with this game to avoid doing that.

So, what, does that mean that the Veil is never going to come down now? Or are you going to have the entirety of Thedas build themselves up again just to have the Veil fall and send things into chaos once more?

What a fatalistic, miserable outcome for Thedas -> why the fuck would anyone bother to live in Thedas if you're going to keep throwing meteorites at them? By all means, change/conflict has to happen for the series to move forwards...but this is just so miserable at this point.

(The Elder Scrolls, at least, gives people room to breathe between crisis' or sets them up in different areas of the world! Bethesda treats past installments/your decisions with greater respect than DATV does.)

Even, then, if the Veil remains up, that means that the spirits are just trapped in the Fade being miserable for the rest of existence. The entire series has been humanizing spirits, from Justice to Cole, and now they're just throwing in the towel? I guess they can stay in the fade now! Problem solved!

What do you mean the Evanuris are not a threat anymore? IN A PREVIOUS QUESTION YOU LITERALLY SAID SOME ARE STILL POTENTIALLY KICKING AROUND THE BLACK CITY?

Weakened, sure, but Solas was 'weak' in DAI. You're giving yourself an out if you decide to go back to the elves again. Please do, I'd love more content on how the elves alone fuck everything up!

5. More Southern Thedas, the Chantry, and Tevinter

Thanks for the confirmation that things in the South are so fucked up that they have to work alongside the 'Slave Capital' of the known world to rebuild!

Slavery was one of the biggest things that caused a rift between the north/south chantry system -> one of the reasons why there were exalted marches -> a uniting belief in the south is that slavery is fucked. They didn't address slavery in DATV - what hopes are there that they will do so effectively in a future game?

Don't tell me that Dorian fixes everything off screen either -> either he solves slavery off-screen or the south is being forced to work the slaver-capitol because their land is nuked and they have no ground to stand on.

I'm so thrilled.

6. Solas and the Idol / The Blight

I will never get over Solas fucking curing the Blight off-screen and no one asking questions/giving a shit. Hello?? The Hero of Ferelden would like a word with you???

So the Blight is calcified in Minrathous, at least, but everywhere further away is still fucked! Once more, the South is doomed to suffer from the long-term effects that regular blights have -> not to mention the red lyrium (which still exists according to the AMA) across the south.

I don't care; it's lame. It's a lame way to conclude the blight and I hate it. This game did not earn 'cure the blight from thedas' at all. You could have had us learn how to soothe a titan and see how that can diminish the blight but you did it this way.

Another 'magical ritual' because Solas has such a good track record with them lmao.

7. The Agents of Fen'Harel / The War with the Qun / The Crows

Turned him against the idea of being a leader???!!

Fen'harel's Call to the Elven People After the events at the Winter Palace, elves left the Inquisition under mysterious circumstances, as did elven servants across Thedas. None could say where they went, but those who believed the Inquisitor's story about Fen'Harel wondered just how large the Dread Wolf's forces were... and what the ancient elven rebel had planned. This is from the Trespasser Epilogue, Epler!

Your concept art for Joplin literally had him as a leader of a faction of elves. Just be honest that it's a retcon and you changed course - don't try to save face with this reasoning.

About the Antaam: "We needed some big mindless bad guys to fight and so we did this because we didn't want to address the Qunari War/Invasion we set up in Trespasser".

You had to canonize Sten as being alive and Arishok in order for this reasoning to work -> you didn't even come up with an alternative Arishok to take Sten's place.

Yeah, the exchange that set up the Crows we see in the game as "idealists" did not make the game. I can confirm that!

I'm sorry, "Caterina kept Illario in check?" as in, 'kept him an idealist and not the usual Crow'? The woman that beat him with a cane and starved him and his cousin to train them as Crows. Fuck off.

lmao -> tell me you're coming up with this on the spot without telling me that you're coming up with this on the spot.

8. World State Discrepancies - Isabela

Outright ignores the very real criticism about the marketing from this game and World States.

"there are absolutely places where we unintentionally suggested there was a hard canon (...that Isabela is always assumed to have joined Hawke's party.)"

Unintentional?

Excuse me, you have her talk about Merrill and the Kirkwall Crew as family - that was not unintentional in the slightest. Not to mention Sten, Blackwall, Sera, and Cole are canonized as being part of your world state no matter what.

You had a story you wanted to tell - one that only fit a few world states - and you went ahead with it and disregarded those choices. Don't try and lie about this all being a big misunderstanding.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Edit - They could have taken the opportunity to address the very reasonable criticisms that people had with this game but they cherry-picked questions and avoided/minimized anything remotely critical.

They could have provided us some insight into the game development time but each time they approached the topic they settled for "we're happy with what we delivered and it was well optimized."

They had an opportunity to acknowledge that people were bothered by the handling of the lore/stories (to potentially mention they could course-correct/ rethink their plans) but instead they doubled down on everything that they did and even 'justified' some decisions. They doubled down on the Executors, Solas's changing motivations, the destruction of Southern Thedas, and the elves/Solas being at the heart of everything etc...

This AMA basically confirmed that the only reason they did what they did to the south was for a reset -> It's not a compelling or fulfilling narrative to have everything we've done reset back to ground zero off-screen. BioWare games differentiate themselves from other RPG's by their import system from previous games - it was compelling and exciting! With DATV they set the expectation that BioWare can outright throw out entire games worth of choices/build up, not solely retcon them.

Justifying your choice to water down the lore/world of your story by saying you'll address it in the 'next game' does not instill me with confidence, BioWare! It doesn't explain that lack of it in this game either!

They avoided every question that, rightfully so, pointed out the misleading comments made by devs in the pre-order period of the game:

the fact that there were only 3 imported choices from previous games was leaked by a reviewer -> BioWare was vague from the start about choices

that this game was the most 'romantic' in the series

that world states/ headcanons wouldn't be disrespected

that there are 'lore' reasons for bad darkspawn design

that there are lasting, impactful choices/consequences to be made in this game

that the lore/world was not watered or toned down

that companions are deep and you can disagree with them etc...

BioWare's behavior towards their customers in the lead up period to this games release was downright scummy. I absolutely felt misled after playing the game for myself and recalling what I read in interviews put out. While EA is undoubtedly poison, you can't hold them solely accountable for this.

I feel for the individual developers who worked on this in what was undoubtedly a toxic environment from EA - but I feel that it's pretty clear that BioWare itself has a lot of problems within and in their leadership/executives. Working for EA does not give them an excuse to mislead their customers.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I already had a very grim outlook on the franchise from the end of DATV but this literally look my interest out the back and sent it to God. What a disaster.

[inkzectz]

in your Bigger than the sky animation benrey starts out as barney? that seems so interesting lore wise? i would love to hear about what you were thinking when you animated that askdhfjlagh and the sweet voice and dreading stare? no clue what it means but curious as hell

ok im gonna go a little crazy on this because this is my biggest/favorite bc ever.

In the full vods they refer to benrey as “Barney” for the first while, it’s kind of unclear why, from Wayne’s perspective it seems he just didn’t know his name and defaulted to the character models name, and gir and Holly said they thought the joke with benrey was he was Barney but wrong, and they kept calling him the wrong name, so bipple, booper, Bentley, but eventually benrey, the name said by scorpy, stuck.

All this to say, it’s a BIG hc of mine that he was intended to be Barney (in universe) but due to being self aware was able to break off from this character he was meant to be. it’s kind of implied within the series they all have fake memories of who they are, being AI they are supposed to sort of act a certain way to maintain the immersion but at the end of the day, nothing before the game booted up really happened.

And benrey knows this, benrey knew from the beginning nothing was real, that he wasn’t human, how it ends, that no one actually dies, the works. I also headcanon that he became self aware during the AI model training stages, that the guy in charge of training his AI as Barney, broke him causing his self awareness and he was just launched into the beta game fully aware of the circumstances of his existence. I don’t think he was fully aware of how everything in game worked though.

but this to me is why he seems to constantly be changing his view of Gordon, antagonizing him one moment and then being friendly the next, his feelings about him are complex, he knows from the beginning he isn’t actually Gordon Freeman, but a guy just playing half life. Being a security guard, he’s programmed to protect Gordon with his life, but he knows this. He knows what’s compelling him to care for Gordon isn’t himself but lines of code he’s bound to, and this is why he antagonizes him. But that’s a whole different rant on its own lol

That sequence at the beginning of the bigger than the sky animatic was supposed to be a false memory, something he was supposed to think happened, but the version of Gordon he remembers isn’t real. This idea of ‘Gordon’ is a concept that only exists in these fake memories. (This is also why I think he never calls Gordon by name throughout the series, because he knows it’s not actually him (besides that one time but it doesn’t count bc it was for a bit lalala I can’t hear you))

there wasn’t much thought into the details of that part, like the coughing into the hand with the sweet voice, I really just put that bc I thought it looked dramatic and cool 😓

BUT on the topic of this big ass hc of mine, it actually is super important to a upcoming project im working on, and I realized throughout the story boarding it might need some explanation because it also has a lot of flash backs to some fake memories.

Sorry this got super rant-y I tried to keep it as short and simple as I could, I love hlvrai, I think about it literally every moment of my life and have so many hcs

[thepinkdreamganjaqueen]

The Problem With Portals

Stiles Stilinski x Supernatural Fem!Reader

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: Y/N is new to beacon hills but not new to constantly having to move. She only hopes for temporary stability and kindness from others when her past begins to catch up with her as it always does. Will she explain herself to the boy she's gotten the attention of, or will she move again to avoid destruction? (Characters in college)

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, piv, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, obsession, groping, angst, oral (m recieving), mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of violence, mentions of abuse, mentions of SA, mentions of NonCon, swearing, self-doubt, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff

A/N: Coming back to rewatch MTV's Teen Wolf and falling in love with Stiles all over again so we had to do a smutty fic. It's heavily inspired by my love of fairy lore and cryptozoology as a whole... and of course... Stiles. Duh! Thinking of void Stiles as well. More to come, stay tuned. Please, enjoy!! And as always, i love all the support and appreciate all the interaction!! Cheers!

Word Count: 8k

THE PROBLEM WITH PORTALS

Walking into class late was the worst. You knew everyone's eyes would be drawn to you. Especially when you're the new girl, and not just the new girl, the creepy loner new girl with a sketchy checkered past who is also a supernatural being. So that's cool.

You could hear the other people snicker and whisper behind your back. The rumors they created in the absence of knowledge just basic human nature. They'd say you kept moving because you're violent, that you set your last school on fire, and that you were a killer. It wasn't your job to make them smarter, to explain yourself in any way. You liked it this way. If they thought you were unapproachable, it saved you time. No attention, no trouble. Trouble is what you've been trying to avoid, hence the reason you had to move. Again.

This was the second school this year. You had already grown tired of trying to make friends long ago after years and years, nor connections of any kind. There was no way for you to know if it was ever genuine anyway. Every man, student, and faculty member alike pined for you. The women hated you because their crushes and boyfriends' attention was always lured away. You were deemed a slut even though you never spent more than a few months at any school, not long enough to even get comfortable talking to someone let alone sleep with them. It was no fault of your own, just a by product of who you were.

Unfortunately for you, your secrets weren't as simple as the others had postulized. You wished you were "kicked out of your last school for inciting violence." However, that wasn't actually the case, just what's written on the transcripts. No, the male population went berserk fighting over who would get you as if you were a prize to be won. It caused a fire to erupt from the violence that ensued. The school was going to blame you anyway, but you moved once again due to the pressing dangers.

They were drawn to you, wanting to posses you. Their eyes void of emotion, just blank. You felt like you were being hunted every day of your life. No one could ever know or understand your truth. Your family wasn't like other families. You felt you stood out like a sore thumb. You did everywhere you went. Why would Beacon Hills be any different?

Your presence caused chaos amongst men. An incomprehensible obsession like a trance would take over, drawn helplessly to you. It led to trauma from your past. Men had tried to kidnap you, assault you, or worse, try to kill you if they couldn't have you. Always controlled by some unknown urge you didn't even understand. Friends, teachers, doctors, neighbors, if they were human, they couldn't resist your pull. It was a curse. You just wanted to be normal, to live a normal life. Have friends, go on dates, to know what it's like to have something in common with someone... anyone. Scarier even were the creatures that hunted those like yourself. Wanting to steal you vitality, your essence, and use you as a conduit between worlds. An ever-present fear.

Your mother had told you about the creatures of the woods and the woods themselves before her untimely passing, and the part it plays in your identity. "Y/N," she said. "We were born to the trees. We live our lives amongst them while we're here. That's why you love nature. it's within you as a nymph to be drawn home. The trees are the closest we can get for now. " She went on to explain that the reason why human men suffer this fatal attraction to them is because they are not of this realm. Their beauty alone is too powerful for this world. It's unnatural. The things a Fae is calable of here are just survival traits in their natural realm and too much for humans to bear. They are rendered helpless, weak, and unable to understand their urge. But the window to their plane was closed long ago. Your mother was long gone, no family to speak of. You only had your deity guardian. She spoke in riddles and had become increasingly weak to the point that you were now her caregiver. It was hard. She was all you had, all you knew, the only true protector. As a nymph cursed to the mortal coil, it caused so many divides in your life. You stopped trying to please anyone, stopped trying to have relationships, whether platonic or romantic. You did your best not to be perceived. Easier said than done when you are late to class and have to walk in front of everyone.

You walked down the aisle, avoiding prying eyes, holding your books close to your chest as you chose a seat near the back. It was only your first week here, and already you could feel this place was different. Still, your problems always seemed to follow. Not just the unwanted attention, but the missing time and missing memories, waking up in the woods, people disappearing, and the mushrooms and flowers that sprouted at your feet as you walked, creating cirlces in the mulch. You were always quick to make sure they never encirlced you. It always left you worse off, made you dizzy, feeling like you were torn between two worlds, neither here nor there. Still not truly understanding what it all meant.

As you took a seat in the back, an announcement came over the loud speaker. It said something about missing persons and the power of numbers and a possible curfew to be updated by the sheriff. It was starting again. Two boys sitting in front of you spoke in hushed voices in what seemed like a serious conversation. You couldn't help but overhear. "That's two this week, Scott!" The boy on the left said. "I told you it was something! But its different this time, theres no trace of them, its something new." He stole a glance looking over his shoulder, catching your gaze before returning to his conversation. You quickly shot your eyes down. He was remarkable. He had a lean build, brown hair with a buzz cut, and deep brown eyes that burned a hole through you. His friend he was talking to 'Scott' he had said was of similar height, more athletic build with longer black hair, you couldn't see his face yet. Something about him was darker, though. You could sense it. You twirled a pencil on the desk pretending not to listen. "Stiles! Something you'd like to share with the class?" The professor interrupted. The boy who caught your gaze, Stiles, the teacher, had said, shook his head and stammered unexpectedly. "Uh no, no." The professor turned back to their lecture as he again turned to his friend in a hushed voice."I did some research on portals, and we gotta figure this out, man. i have an idea. Later." he whispered. His friend looked over his shoulder. A smoldering gaze caught your eye before he turned back to Stiles and nodded in affirmation. The gazes felt targeted, but you couldn't be sure it was just your default thought as your own mechanism of protection against others. Class continued on without much excitement. You wondered to yourself, who those guys were, aside from their names, how did they expect to find the missing students? They had no idea what they were dealing with. Although, a noble effort, you hadn't even managed to figure this out yet, or you'd be able to maybe stay in one place.

You rushed out of the back doors, avoiding the crowds using the front. You wandered over to your favorite reading spot for respite amongst the trees that lined the field. You walked past the lacross team, filling the open space. Equipment strewn everywhere as they practiced. You noticed two familiar faces from class earlier. Stiles and Scott were on the field. You sat in a pile of leaves, quickly encircled by oily caps, and babies' breath starting at your feet. You didn't mind. You were distracted today. The woods were a buzz, leaving your skin tingling. You couldn't lie to yourself, stiles had a certain air about him. Something you couldn't quite define, but drew you in nonetheless. You tried to shake the thoughts out of your head as you picked up your book but found yourself watching him again.

Of course, you always wanted a relationship, some kind of connection. Craved it for years and years, but it was never real. It was lonely. As much as you would push yourself from the thought and remiss to just being ok alone, a part of you still yearned for companionship for a somewhat social life in any form. What it must be like to have someone who sees you for you, who knows who you are in your heart and not what they see or can't understand. You watched as they one by one took turns shooting goals. Something about him, you thought. He looked at me but didn't see through me. His eyes didn't immediately glaze over into that half lidded trance of a stare. But he was human, you thought, what kind of human could resist that urge. You felt a mixture of shame and interest, wanting to know more, wanting to know why. You caught Stiles looking in your direction quite often. You chuckled when the coach called him out on it, demanding, "Keep your eyes on the prize, Stilinski, or you'll be back on the bench!" He seemed unphased by the coaches words only a quick head nod before pulling his mask back down and turning to aim.

After a while of watching, you were able to find the strength to zone out in your book. You were unsure how long you had been there, but the sun had already begun to set over the lining of the trees. You gathered your book bag and started making your way off the field. There were still a few people from the game lingering on the field as you neared to pass. You saw the two you had been watching from class earlier. Scott was sitting down on a bench, removing his safety gear while Stiles stood in front of him, holding his helmet with one hand and wildly gesturing with the other. Scott looked up to see you heading in their direction, book in hand clutched to your chest. He looked at Stiles and motioned toward you. Stiles immediately shot a look back and turned back to his friend. They both stopped speaking and watched as you passed. It made you feel nervous, but they didn't follow. You were thankful yet perplexed. Unusual behavior, not typical of what you were used to. It was nice in a way, but it made you question things a little more deeply.

Upon arrival at your home, you went to check on your guardian. She was in her room in a chair facing the window. She was like this every day. You thought you would try and speak with her today. Maybe get some answers about this place. "The woods here feel different." You spoke. "They feel electric almost, everytime i step within them, my skin buzzes and mushrooms and flowers grow around me, but not like before, the windows open right away! It's like, theres a power here I can sense but can't see. What is this place? Why did we move here?" You asked, hoping to get answers and not riddles. Something with meaning, something tangible bit knowing you wouldn't. "We came for the trees, dear." She said blissfully. "The trees and water that run through the woods in Beacon Hills is special to us. Revitalizes us and invigorates our true being. Beacon Hills is a place of much power. It draws to all supernatural creatures alike." She said without ever looking away from the window. "The claws, teeth, and scales of this place do not fear us. Isn't it nice?"

Your jaw nearly dropped. She spoke in a way that actually made sense to you. No riddles, full sentences. Her posture remained the same as well as the look on her face. But something was different. Perhaps it was the trees, perhaps it was this place? A hot spot for the supernatural? Was it somewhere you could stay? Where people weren't affected by us? As if reading your mind, she spoke once more. "They are the only ones who can tolerate us. Them, and sometimes those close to them who have opened themselves up to our world and have been touched by the other side. We still deal with present dangers from typical humans, so it's best to still keep a distance." The conversation ended abruptly with your guardian motioning to her bed. You helped her in, watching her gaze never leave the window.

You wished her a good night and headed to your room. Your mind weighed heavily on what she had said. Still, it changed nothing. People were still going missing. You knew it was because of the fairy rings that sprouted at your feet in the woods. It created the windows, the overlap of worlds, and people were walking in and not coming out. You didn't know how to stop it, never did. If this place was truly a supernatural persons territory. Perhaps there were those more knowledgeable than you on this. Perhaps there were others like you, nymphs who understood and controlled their reality, lest your guardian really started communicating. Something you didn't count on.

Your rest was tinged with excitement and anxiety. You could use this information to deduce who was a supernatural and who wasn't in a way. All you had to do was see how people reacted to your presence. It was all in the eyes. Those two boys in class, they had barely paid any attention to you, and your mind wondered what they could be. What kind of creatures inhabited Beacon Hills? Were they fae friendly? What if they found out the recent disappearances were because of you? How would they react? Would they help, or would they hunt you as well?

This morning, you skipped reading and headed straight for class sitting in the back again. As students poured in the class, you looked for the faces you had become familiar with but only saw one. Stiles entered and threw his bag down on the seat next to him in front of you. You pretended not to notice as he stole glances at you over his shoulder. You were in class, but he was studying you, your every move. As uncomfortable as this made you, it was nice as it wasn't paired with the crazy eyes that usually came with those glances. He seemed nice, a welcome feeling.

The professor announced that everyone needed to pair up. This was the worst. You would obviously rather work alone. Before even looking up from your textbook, the boy in front of you 'Stiles' turns around and speaks to you. "Wanna team up? Names Stiles by the way, " he said while turning in his seat and leaning a hand out over the back. You glanced at his face, then to his hand. A look of bewilderment must have crossed your face and been obvious as he immediately shrunk down and pulled his hand back, tightening his lips and shaking his head, mumbling something under his breath.

You had never seen reactions like this from men. They were always so confident in their approaches to you, running off pure pride with a gluttonous need for you. They way he acted was endearing. You felt your face soften as you tried to respond. "Im sorry, im just not used to people being nice to me. Im Y/N. You want to come sit here or me there?" He nearly fell out of seat at the words, frantically scrambling to grab his books and backpack to sit next to you. He did so in a huff before pulling his seat close and settling. You watched in amusement as he picked up items that fell in his haste. He was cute. You felt a smile touch your lips. How long had it been since you could smile? You thought.

After he had sat, he turned to you, saying, "I find it hard to believe no one's nice to you." he said in an awkwardly flirtacious way. "Really?" You say. "Have you not heard what people say about me? How certain people look at me?" His face went blank, and he looked away as if thinking of a response. He stammered. "Well, I think some people are bored... and being new and so uh... yeah... uh yeah, they're just you know, dumb." A smile crossed your face. "Wow, truer words have never been spoken," you chuckled sheepishly.

You two spent the rest of class working on an electrophoresis lab stealing glances at each other. The casing kept leaking buffer. You joked about the electric current, possibly shocking you, knowing it wouldn't. Electricity acted differently around you. Still, he took the lead, sensing your apprehension masked as a dark joke and carefully connected the currents. It was straightforward and pretty simple after that, yet you struggled with measurements for whatever reason. Perhaps it was molecule size. No matter what you thought. His presence was reassuring. He spoke kindly to you. You found yourself wanting to scoot closer but holding back. He was adorable, the way he focused when working sticking his tongue out as his thoughts coalesced into words on a page. You watched in admiration. You haven't liked a guy like this in so long, always avoiding that potential pain, not wanting to put yourself or others in danger again. There was just something different about him.

"So, i heard you talking with your friend yesterday about the missing students. What do you think happened?" His eyes widened, and you immediately felt intrusive. "Yeah, you uh, heard that, huh? Well, it's been sort of an 'ongoing' issue. My friends and I are just trying to get to the bottom of it before it's one of us, " he said while tapping his pencil to the desk, head cooked, and a thousand yard stare. "I hope you find them." You spoke thoughtfully in a hushed tone. You felt the weight of your words as they left your lips. You felt terrible, but knew there was nothing you could do except maybe move again. But you were starting to like it here. That was always the way it went. Even if this place did feel different.

You watched him, his mannerisms. Trying to figure out what he was, how he withstood the urge so many have around you. He fawned over you. Sure, you could tell he had an attraction. You could see it in how you made him act, how he reacted to you and around you. You had gotten really good at reading people. He was a bit harder to read just because you weren't used to this behavior, so far from the norm you had adjusted to for so long. After having dealt with false attraction many times before, you could tell he was genuine. This is just how he was. Silly, awkward, caring, and kind. It was refreshing. It almost felt unreal, the conversation flowed, and there were no innuendos or comments about your body or beauty. It was like a breath of fresh air. He was boisterous and cracked jokes. His humor dry, sometimes dark. You found yourself laughing, actually laughing with him. He was sweet, funny, charismatic even, and his smile made you melt.

It was tricky, knowing your nature, you could be just as entranced with the humans as they were with you, however dangerous it could be. But you could feel your longing within you like a being of its own, inhabiting your mind, body, and spirit. Begging for the day to see the light. That day so far, has not come. With age, that desire only grew, causing friction within the confines of your own mind.

The bell rang, and you gathered your things when his voice spoke out. "Hey, do you wanna come over after school today and study? Maybe work on some of this stuff? I could uh, really use the help." You examined his expression, feeling uneasy and not fully trusting his intentions. Yet, you found yourself nodding in agreement despite your ever-present worries and fears. His face remained as it did when he asked you, eye brows raised, lips parted, awaiting your response as he shifted his books in his hands and straightened his backpack straps. "Yeah? Ok, yeah." He said in surprise. "I live just a block over from you. Meet me after school?" A block from me? How did he know, did he follow you yesterday? You shrug your shoulders, pushing your thoughts back. "Sure sure," you mumble. As if sensing your trepedation, he blurted out, "My dads the sheriff. So, you dont have to worry or anything... if you are... worried," he fidgeted, turning his head rubbing his face in frustration as if he embarrassed himself. He avoided eye contact with you, and stammered when he spoke to you, perhaps your presence did make him uncomfortable, but it was in a way you haven't seen before, not in any type of hypnotized state. It intrigued you. You found yourself excited at the thought of a friend possibly, maybe more?

It felt intimate. He was inviting you to his home. Just you two. Was this a date? You'd never been on one, never being asked sincerely, so you always declined. It's easier to avoid disappointment, right? Especially if it could have led to your potential assault or possible death. There were creatures out there that wanted to kill people like you. Something you still didn't fully understand but remained aware of that potential danger. No one has ever wanted to spend time with you other than to possess you. You had to see what it was like and took full advantage of that opportunity. You thought, why not? His dads the sheriff, what's the worst that could happen? You didn't finish that thought because you already knew but hoped for a better outcome this time.

Stiles had handed you a folded note with four numbers scrawled across the inside. His home address he lamented. "Look for the blue jeep," he said as you left for home. You wanted to drop some things off before heading over. Make yourself presentable. You never wanted nor ever needed to dress any other way than comfortable. You weren't even sure you had anything that could be considered cute or attention getting. You changed, opting for a pair of black joggers, white sneakers, and a white tank top. The only thing you had that was somwhat revealing, but only in the way it fit your shape and peeked out with a bit of cleavage. Everything you owned was to avert the male gaze. You felt bold wearing it. You felt actually comfortable, not like the loose fabric you normally hung from your slender frame. You threw on a black pullover hoodie to cover yourself. Force of habit, plus, there were still people outside your home you would rather avoid. Knowing that loose clothing was a ruse, truly no one even needed to look at you to be pulled into your gravity. If you were close to them, they felt they needed you.

You walked over, breathing shallowly, not knowing what to expect, but a feeling of anticipation laced each step you took until you reached his front door. You reach a hand up while your mind second guessed whether you should be doing this or not. Your knuckles rapped on the wood four times. You took a step back to wait. You could hear Stiles somewhere inside yelling he was coming, followed by running steps that got louder as they crashed towards the door. The door swung open inwards, Stiles stood with his arm extended, out of breath but smiling.

You timidly raise a hand in a shy wave, feeling like you interruped him in the middle of something. "H-Hey. Come in." He led you through a hall to a room in the back on the left. His room presumably. He stepped in first clutching papers and books off the surface of his discheveled looking bed. "Sorry, I was trying to clean this all up before you got here," he said while trying to collect all the items at once. "That's ok," you respond. "Wow, you really do study a lot, huh?" You said. There were school books on his bed as to be expected, but there were a few interesting choice books you observed him quickly put away out of your view on a shelf behind him. "Weird World Compendium, Cryptozoology 101, and one titled Lycanthropy." Surely he didn't get those from the library. Perhaps it was some sort of project. You tried not to think too hard about it after what your guardian had said. This place was supernaturally charged. Maybe some humans were interested in that sort of thing. Although in your experience it's always been a topic that's more hush-hush.

You sat cross-legged in the spot on his bed he had cleared off and smoothed over for you. Settling in and opening your backpack to bring out your notebook. He sat next to you on the opposite side of the bed, legs outstretched as he placed a book and notes in his lap, searching through the papers. While he gathered his notes, you took the time to take off your hoodie, lifting your arms to pull it up off over your head. It pulled your hair tie out in the process. When you pulled it off fully, your hair covered your face, falling in long locks about your face. You brushed them away, smoothing your hair back as it fell to the sides of your face. You looked for your scrunchie in your hoodie where it must've gotten tangled. When you found it and went to put it on your wrist, you looked up to see him staring at you. A perplexed look tinged with want. It's as if he was looking at a beautiful deadly creature. Scared, yet highly intrigued. You watched his eyes scan your body until he met your eyes, and immediately, he turned beet red. You could feel your face flush as well. Both of you averted your gaze. Too self concious to address the tension in the air. So you both continued on studying like nothing happened. Engaging in light conversation and school talk. The actual studying only lasted a half hour.

You two went over your notes together quickly and then started talking. A few things that caught your attention that he said were about the woods, something about the history of the woods in Beacon Hills, super vague. Although he was cryptic as well, like there was some truth he was holding back. He asked about your move and why you chose Beacon Hills, "the weirdest place you could have chosen," he'd said. You told him your family who you stayed with moved a lot for work. A lie. You had no family, just your guardian, that and you would never truly divulge the reasoning. You'd sound insane to any somwhat sane person. Stiles seemed to be a sane person, a very hyperactive one, and a total smartass, but sane nonetheless. You enjoyed his energy, really, so you didn't want him not to like you. A thought you've never thought before. Perhaps he knew more than he let on. After all, he did talk about helping his friends find the people that went missing. You knew he wouldn't even know where to start unless he had some sort of supernatural inkling. Perhaps that's why he was able to still remain himself around you.

You stood to stretch, arching your back and sliding your hands down your backside as you did, trying to crack out a few knots from sitting on the bed. There was a large empty whiteboard in his room that was pretty hard to miss. Curiosity stole your attention away from him as you wanted to see what was on the other side, if anything. As he went to put his notes away, he looked up to see you flip the board. It was covered in intertwined strings, pictures, and what looked like newspaper clippings. It looked like complete chaos. You stepped closer to observe the images only to see a picture of you, images of the fairy rings, and old articles from schools you attended in the past. "Teen incites crowd violence at UNI leading to fire," one had read. Another stated, "At risk youth terrorizes fremont school district and local community" and "Local youth suspected in missing peoples case and 10 year cold case involving family disappearance." mentally, you remark at the headlines. They were all about you, your past, and they were not only wrong and super sensationalized, but outright mean you thought.

A look of worry and lost hope immediately plagued your features. Survival instinct kicked back in, and you were immediately aware of the bad decision you had made. Your heart began to race, and your palms got clamy. You could feel a low humm of electricity burning from within. He knew it was you, how easily you fell for it this time. Shame and fear filled the pit in your stomach. Stiles saw you remarking at his 'crime board'. He immediately went to try and grab the articles off to cover the evidence he had infact been following you. Researching your past. Why? Did he want you dead like some? The thoughts raced through your mind in a blur of negativity. Is that why he was asking the questions he was? Realistically, and even more painful, was the realization that he knew it was you or had something to do with you. The reason people were missing people he knew.

"No, no no no. It's not what it looks like. Just. Just let me explain," he insisted. You had turned to him with the article stating, "Menace linked to missing people," with tears welling in the corners of your eyes. It felt like betrayal. These feelings you were so used to and built yourself up to avoid, here again. Because you dropped your guard! "What are you?" You asked. "How are you like this? Are you a satyr? A changeling?!" You all but screamed at him. Fear, clear, and present in your voice. You were scared and hurt. He stood frozen looking at you, mouth agape. He tried to speak, unable to find the words. How could he be shocked at your reaction, you thought. The evidence was here, all of it, his research on you and the "portals" he talked to his friend about. It was embarrassing, demoralizing, and hurtful. "Uh-im..im a human being," he spoke in a broken sentence, unsure how to respond to that question. Human? How? How could he be, knowing what he knows? You look up from the article in your hand, tears streaming down your cheeks. Presented with everything you had tried so hard to get away from. "Why did you invite me here?" You spoke through breathy gasps. "I thought for once someone actually liked me. So I'll just go," you said in a hushed breath. You dropped the paper and turned for the door when you felt his hand on your arm.

"Dont go." He said defeatedly. You turned to face him, to confront him. "I-I do like you. Okay? I do. I just didn't know how to say it, to tell you, i'm scared." He said, stepping closer to you and grabbing your shaking hands. "Please let me explain." You looked up at him examiningly. Taking stock of his features, observing his body language. He appeared to be truly apologetic, especially when confronted with your tears. You quickly wiped them away, no weakness to be seen. "You do?" You said, seeking his validation and reassurance. "Why?" You asked. The question perplexed him. Why wouldn't anyone like you? They all did, well, only in that possessive way.

"Why?" He repeated, chuckling nervously as you tried holding his gaze. He would look down, then back seeing you were still looking into him."Yeah, why? You see all this about my past. People are disappearing around me, right? Why would you like me at all?" You questioned him. "Look, I can tell you put on a hard front, but when we were working together, I could see that wasn't who you were. I was cautious sure, a lot of crazy stuff happens here, you have no idea. I'm just trying to help my friends, I thought what I was doing was right, and I thought you could help." he said candidly. He spoke calmly and directly, unlike his usual cadence, taking your feelings seriously. "So what did you find out?" You ask him, gesturing to the board. Tone still firm yet softening. "That you're not what people say you are. That you are not those articles. And yes, youre fucking gorgeous". He gestured at you. "but youre kind, and... good."

His words poured over your fresh wounds like a pain killer. Numbing the hurt, a lovely feeling. You looked him in the eyes, a gaze he returned purposefully. "Im sorry i hurt you, it wasn't my intention, and I will take all the time you need to explain everything, you desrve that." The words he spoke were foreign to you. An apology. Bare minimum, but something you've never received in all your past traumas. Not once did anyone take the time to validate and quell your negative feelings they caused.

Without thought and acting upon pure emotion, you leaned in and kissed him. Pressing your lips hard to his. You pull away just as quickly. Too forward, too much you think to yourself. What have you done? You look to observe his face his reaction. His eyes still closed, and his lips still perched. After a moment, realizing you pulled away, he opens his eyes and looks down at you. Letting go of your hands he steps forward to you once more, leaving no space between you. He grabs your face a palm on either cheek and pulls you in for another kiss. Returning your affections heartily.

He pushes himself against you, holding your face in his hands as your lips continue to collide, tongues roaming and exploring, teeth clashing as he breathes heavily through his nose. A soft moan escapes your mouth as you bring your arms around his neck. He then slid his hands behind your back, pulling you closer to him. You reveled in his embrace. It's so warm and inviting. There was no pressure, no obsession. It felt natural, a feeling never shared with a human before, or any being for that matter you thought.

Something came over you, or rather melted away. The fear, the worry about being around him, all but vanished in his embrace. It didn't feel forced or like possession. Just pure chemistry. Your kiss led you to the edge of his bed where your knees buckled and you fell backward. You grabbed Stiles' hand, pulling him on top of you. He was clearly nervous but happy and more than willing to participate, his breathing was fast, hands shakey as he placed one on the side of your shoulder and grabbed under your thigh with the other raising your leg up.

He spread your legs apart with his knees, scooting closer. He continued kissing you, circling your toungue with his. The electricity in your core buzzed furiously beckoning to you in unintelligible whispers. Everything spun out of control so quickly. His hands roaming your body, lightly caressing your abdomen, sliding his fingers underneath your top. His fingers left traces of vibration on your skin. You wondered if he could feel it, too. The exhiliration filled your senses, taking over rational thought as your hands roamed his body. You could feel the stillness in his pants as your soft movements brushed up against him, eliciting small gasps of breath through his teeth.

He stopped suddenly, pulling away. You looked on pleadingly, searching his face for a reason. His face was soft as he expressed concern. "Only if you want this," he said. You nodded almost as he spoke, sitting up on your elbows and meeting him with another kiss. "I do, please," you said with eybrows raised and puffy glistening lips. He relaxed and leaned into the kiss once more, pushing himself against you.

You put both hands under his sweater. He quickly shrugged it off his head, pulling it from his shoulders. You lifted up your tank top, sliding it off as he did, then unhooked your bra, dropping it to the floor next to the bed carlessly. When he looked back down, a smile curled on his lips before biting them and returning to kissing you. He took a moment to bury his face between your breasts, inhaling you deeply before using his tongue to lap at your hardened nipples, the cold air on your wet skin making you shiver under his touch.

The heat rising in your body matched the warmth in your psyche. A true gentleman he had been. Asking for consent was unheard of for you. Most just took what they wanted, turning you off of the whole idea of intimacy. But Stiles was different. You felt yourself softening under his touch. His words soothed the darkest corners of your abused mind.

His body was ridgid and warm against your torso. You could feel goosebumps rise across the flesh you touched upon his back. He quivered with every embrace. Your hand slipped down to his waistband, where his belt sat. You slip a finger just inside, trailing it against his skin left to right as you gently tug. He meets your gaze, and you smile up at him innocently. He quickly stood once more, chucking off his shoes carlessly. One landed on his desk, and the other hit the wall. You chuckled lightly. He was so eager. As he gathered his bearings to pull his pants down, you grabbed hold. "Let me," you say while grabbing his hands. He nodded in agreement, running his fingers through your hair as he curiously watched.

You undo his belt and pull the strap through each belt loop until it hits the floor, followed by the button, then the zipper until you pulled down his pants to reveal him. His boxers stood tented. He sucked in a breath as you slid the pants over his length. You could see partially through the hole in the boxers that his hardness exaggerated, almost poking out. You removed them carefully, sliding them down to the floor. His length stood at full attention and laid against his abdomen, a burning red. You run a hand over his chest, moving down and tracing the lines on his hips that led to his cock. He twitched under your touch, so did his cock. Perhaps it tickled.

You looked up at him as you claimed him, holding him firm within your grasp. His hands moved to the back of your head where he gathered your hair into one hand. You watched his reaction as you ran your tongue across the tip, collecting the precum that had coated him. His jaw dropped as he gasped at your intimate touch, eyes watching in awe as you took him into your mouth. You circled your tongue around his head before pushing further down, forcing him past your lips. Coming up and then forcing him down again, stretching your throat and causing you to gag. Tears streamed down your face as he began pushing you further onto him, wrapping your hair in his fist as his other hand held lightly under your chin, caressing your throat. He met every movement of yours with his own thrust. Drool began seeping from the corners of your mouth before dripping down your chin and onto your chest.

He pulled your head back, his hand still intertwined in your hair. His other hand grabbed your chin, using his thumb to wipe the drool from your face. He then slid his finger into your mouth, rubbing your tongue and pushing on it before moving his other finger inside, shoving them in and out of your mouth as you helplessly looked up at him. You heard a low hum form in his chest before he placed both hands on your shoulders, pushing you down gently. You follow his lead, sliding back just enough to give him space to put his knees between you.

Stiles scooted between your legs, using his hands to grip the seam of your panties and pull them downward and off of your legs. Slipping them so softly off of your body, placing them on the bed beside him. He then grabbed your hips, pulling you flush against him, his length stood at your entrance. Pushing against your slit, covering him in your slick as he leaned in for a kiss.

You prop yourself onto your elbows, meeting his lips with your own. His length throbbing against you, you found yourself slowly grinding against it. Wanting him more than you've ever wanted anyone in your life ever. The passion and intesnse pressure burning you from within. You felt a deep pressure well within you, an unstoppable urge to fulfill.

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, feeling him nearly penetrate you. A soft moan escaped your lips as he reached down and guided himself to you. Slowly forcing his way in. As he pushed himself inside, your walls began to grip him. "Fuuuck," he whispered. He had to push harder as you tried to accept him. You cry out, and he looks at you with concern. "No, it's ok, feels sgood" You manage to speak in broken words as he begins to slowly thrust himself in and out of you. His eyes watched you almost with fascination as you squirmed beneath him, meeting every thrust of his with your own bucking motion. Wanting more. You felt the room get lighter. Everything took on a hazy ethereal glow with flickers of light that looked like stars as he pounded into you, increasing his speed and strength with every thrust.

Each push, sending you closer and closer over the edge. You looked him in his eyes as he shoved himself heartily into you. Pawing at your breasts, squeezing the flesh through his balmy hands. Small breathy moans would escape his trembling lips. You pulled his face close to yours, gazing into eachothers eyes as he filled you. Marveling at his expressions, how his face tightened with every thrust, how he gritted his teeth and persed his lips. He kissed your chest and neck, causing you to moan loudly from sheer lust.

He had reached for your panties that lay beside him, crumpling them up and stuffing them in your mouth. "My dad will be home soon, we have to be quiet," you nodded, letting him know you understood. You were being very loud after all. No fault of your own, just the sounds he elicited out of you from the pleasure he provided. He began pounding furiously, you cried out in muffled moans behind your soaked panties. Looking up at him as he continued with eyes of want.

Your body felt light, like you were floating. His eyes never left your face as he grunted softly with each push. Your skin tingled and buzzed with vibration, nothing you have ever felt before. He watched as your eyes beamed light from within, a sparkling like a galaxy within your pupils. A buzzing concentrating in your back and shoulders. You could feel it slowly lift from your skin as what looked like stars erupted from your shoulders glittering behind you into the bed sheets and filling room, hovering in ace.

You pull the panties from your mouth, tossing them somewhere within the room. Waves of pleasure began crashing over you as you approached your climax. Stiles remained streadfast, unabated by your sudden supernatural display. "S-Stiles, im gonna cu," you gasped. "Please, dont st-stop," you pleaded, looking deeply into his eyes. His face was a look of pure concentration, grimacing with every thrust that filled you. Your body began to shudder beneath him. His cock trembling and twitching within you as ropes of his essence spasmed within you with every forceful push. Your orgasm bringing him to his own. You wrapped your legs tighter around him as your body convulsed, your walls contracting around his pulsating length. You could feel his warmth fill you as his eyes rolled back and a low deep moan coalesced from his throat. Stiles' room, for a brief moment when your orgasm was most intense, had been glowing, all you could see was him, behind him was almost otherworldly.

The room had filled with the stars that emenated from your shoulder blades. Flickering and twinkling out one by one. They shined like small spheres of light, emitting streams of light out in every direction before fading into what looked like the flicker of a flame and dissapating completely. You had never seen this before, a shock to you, and you were sure it'd shock Stiles, too, if he wasn't already preoccupied. You're sure you'd have to explain later... if you could find the words.

Stiles lay on top of you, exhausted and breathing heavy. You lightly caressed his head he again shivered under your touch and smiled, eyes closed against your chest. You watched as his head rose and fell with each breath you took. "Y/N," he sofly spoke, a large grin painting his face. "You're so beautiful," he said euphorically. "Best sex ever," he said as he slipped off you and lay beside you. You giggled at his rhetoric. "So, I feel like there's something you want to tell me." He spoke once more. How could you even begin to explain what happened when you weren't quite sure yourself. You've never had this happen, but you've also never had consensual sex that you initiated. There was still so much to learn about yourself and what you were.

"Well, if you've got time, I guess I'll just start from the beginning. Starting with me being a Nymph," you said hesitantly. His eyes widened slightly, staring at you in disbelief, "A nymph! Like a fairy deity... Nymph?!" He stammered. "Why didn't I think of that?" he said jokingly to himself. "Uh yeah, I guess, I really dont know much about it, though. I didn't even know I could do... that" you said. "But I'll tell you everything I know. I'll help you find them if I can. I promise," you declared. He looked on, eyes half lidded. "I had sex with a god," he said, staring at you, ignoring everything else you said. You looked into his eyes as he searched yours, moving a strand of hair away from your face. "You'll have to tell me more when the blood rushes back from other areas," he said playfully. "Ok, one more thing though, they're called windows, not portals." You said tongue in cheek. "Really? What's the problem with portals?" he jested, kissing your forhead.

[gladiatorcunt]

- DO LEVIATHANS DREAM OF ALIENS? | 1a.

this is a low flying panic attack (cybersex is holy)

cw: kinktober prompt (aliens made them do it - bc he asked them too), nonconsensual voyeurism, extreme dubcon, yandere jacaerys, reader has a pussy, 4.6k of porn with plot, getting your back blown out in the 2001: a space odyssey trip scene, inspired by the mentioned movie, old valyria lore and obvious au where the valyrian gods are aliens, restraints, stray mpreg mention at the beginning, world building before the fucking, pussy slapping, piss kink mention

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

2 BC, Gaelithox Star System inhabitant number 616. Subject Name: Earth (Human Outreach Base)

In the wake of doom, the world smoldered. Every realm, known and unknown, was reduced to scalding ash. Except for a volcanic island guarding the entrance to Blackwater Bay by the name of Dragonstone. A century later in his eternal wisdom, Lord Aerion Targaryen set his three children, Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys to take to their dragons and scour the vast emptiness for a miracle. In another universe, there were countless bounties to acquire and lush land to conquer, gilded crowns to pass on to the heirs shared between them. However, this was not to be. Visenya’s sharp eyes spotted gigantic chunks of metal in the narrow sea that resembled castles. One was as black as her brother’s dragon’s, Balerion, scales and as all encompassing as the volcano Valyria’s capital city was built in. The other, a muddier brick red with specks of green and even bigger than the former. She shouted to her siblings, pointing and informing them that she was going to land Vhagar on one of them. Rhaenys and Meraxes followed quickly after her, then Aegon and Balerion.

The violent winds assaulted their skin as they dove down, their blood rushed to their hands and caused a pounding sensation in their ears. It felt akin to a leap of faith, they were lighting a match and tossing it onto a pile of Godswood. Blasphemous and crazed. When flayed open, Targaryens are revealed to be plundering leeches with flaming branches for veins. Birthed from white fire, they are harbingers of calamity and tragedy, some say the heat slowly singes their bones and then their brain until they die. Ripping through an ill-omened husk that wails tears of blood and exhales soot.

All three dragons hissed as their claws kissed the unfamiliar material. It was only for a moment, and strangely they titled their heads up and roared into the skies in unison, a jubilant chorus as if they were connecting with the truest parts of themselves. Visenya and her siblings watched in confusion until they were done. Then their focus shifted to the ginormous metal ovals beneath their feet, Visenya and Rhaenys were on the smaller one while Aegon was on the largest of the two. He walked along the cool surface and stopped at what appeared to be a window of sorts, an opening into the inner workings of the beguiling monolith. Before he could consult with his sisters, he tossed them a self assured grin, pulled open the hatch, and jumped boot clad feet first through it.

When he landed with a harsh grunt and the feeling of his bones being briefly jostled, he discovers that the inside closely resembles the innards of a ship. Unlike the traditional boats that traverse on water with their sails made of flax and their hard wooden bodies, this one seemed to be purely metal. Sleek and shiny, light coming from the opening bounced off of his sword as he used it to gain a feel for his surroundings. It was just as massive on the inside, he had the thought that you could very well fit every major family of Old Valyria in there along with their dragons. Though he did not mind being part of the only ones who could benefit from it, perhaps it was the gods' choice to allow only them to survive.

There were many flashy brightly colored knobs, and Aegon felt out of his depth at the sheer amount of them. A command center maybe, a gravelly voice inside him whispered, controls the entire ship and every single facet of it. He would have to explore this specific mechanism further with Visenya, his eyes wandered elsewhere down the hall to his left. The shadows beckoned him forward, and forward he went.

As he explored the ship, Aegon mentally noted the presence of personal quarters, kitchens, places in which one could conduct work, and all the things one would essentially need to live a happy life. It bore familiar cornerstones of Valyrian architecture, winding spiral spires and exquisite detailing. There was even its very own dragon pit resembling the Bojurlion arena that once sat parallel to the palace in the civic center of Valyria, stables and all sorts of riding equipment and armor included. He strongly felt that such a thing surely proved that this was the miracle his Lord father had sent him to find, from the teats of the gods and into the lap of their chosen one. They must have delivered them a shelter and a way to blaze their trail anew, this time the flip of the coin was in the Targaryens’ favor.

To the Targaryens in the long gone days of Old Valyria, survival was a choice when you were doomed to be the middle of the pack, never soaring higher or lower than where the gods put you.

He climbed through the same opening hours later, eager to catch up with his sisters. It turns out that they had an adventure of their own, their ship was similar to the one Aegon had explored, though they described it as having a much lighter energy and a deceptively cozier atmosphere. The three siblings climbed aboard their dragons and took to the skies once more, carrying hope and fierce determination in their hearts. Lord Aerion was relieved to hear of the gods’ saving grace, and in no time at all, their belongings, dragons, and servants were all ushered into either of the two ships after numerous exhaustive back and forth journeys. Remnants of Old Valyria, maesters, descendants of blood mages from the Anogorian, workers from the bathhouses, soldiers who served in the Valyrian navy, and even merchants from the street markets.

It was quite the shock when the ships shook terribly as soon as their doors closed, and gasps wrung out when the main area was flooded with white light as the vessels rose into the heavens and beyond them.

Soon both ships teemed with life, Honorary Queens Rhaenys and Visenya were wed in Dragonstone’s church. They even had biological children with the help of maesters and the ship’s wildly advanced scientific center. A miraculous device allowed their DNA to mix together and be planted in Rhaenys’ womb, with no need for a man’s contribution. Two sons were born, Maegor and Aenys. On The Red Keep, King Aegon found love with the son of a blood mage newly finished with his apprenticeship, and soon they too were wed and bore heirs of their own. Three daughters, one named after Aegon’s first love, a Baratheon. As the centuries went by, these communities in space grew much like they would have on the ground, however they do dock on Dragonstone island occasionally. It was agreed that life would be better spent among the stars than battling to live to see the next day in the dirt. They took all their human ways with them though, buried under their jewels and extravagant lifestyles, their hierarchy and ruling class and debatable penchant for fire and blood.

124 AC, Gaelithox Star System inhabitant number 460. Subject Name: Valyrian Peninsula Cluster (Interior Quadrant)

It is said that The Red Keep eclipses the Earth’s sun but Dragonstone intimidates it, depicted as having a presence so foreboding that any celestial body dims when the insidious ship passes them by.

Hopeful Would-Be-Prince Jacaerys kneels before a marble statue of the Mother.

“There is something very wrong with me, Mother.” His shake, an icy chill floods through his veins in the lukewarm temperature controlled chapel. “A sickness… a hunger… today I nearly bent my servant over while they drew my bath and tongued their cunt, I do not know if their resistance would have stopped me.”

Their tears would have looked transcendent in the reflection of the steaming hot water.

The statue’s eyes glow and emit a monotone beeping sound, standard routine for every prayer and confession.

The usually pleasant and well mannered prince frets, chewing at his fingernail in thought. Artificial breeding is all too available an option, these days one merely has to go to a maester and undergo the procedure, creating almost spontaneous life from the DNA one already possesses. Such things do wonders for couples with incompatible reproductive organs and those that want to be parents on their own, but it’s not enough for Jacaerys.

You could still be distant. There is no corner of the ship where you are free from his reach, but the prince would very much prefer it if you did not feel the need to scurry off at all. He thinks of himself as a wondrously different young man in comparison to his uncles and stepfather, Jacaerys loves you like a dragon loves a sleep. Helpless to the fear of being devoured by his hunger, but he’d keep you and roll you into a cotton ball in his mouth, savoring the pristine hairs left behind in the grooves of his forked tongue.

Wrestling you and bringing your body to the maesters, watching as they plant his child in your womb, would be meaningless to him. He wants to say he’d conceived your children in your marriage bed, as his family had done for generations before him. The advancements in technology had caused a decline in the tradition’s popularity, and that is precisely why Jacaerys wishes they had never set foot for the stars. You’d be more capable of succumbing to him if you were made to endure the pleasure he knows you could feel, without the miracle procedure. You have not yet mentioned a desire to carry children, not that that topic typically is shared between a servant and their liege.

The population on the ship is declining, the Targryens not producing the numbers they have in the past and various deaths in the family and amongst the smallfolk being a couple of the reasons. Madness from a lifetime of staring out floor to ceiling to wall windows of the same sparkly abyss, the traditionalists who spurn the technological wonders of the gods and grapple with complications in childbirth, the murders brought on by cabin fever. Unfortunate events have given Jacaerys the answer, the gift of a perfect reason to have you. To indulge in the murky facets of his soul, nursing from your bitter burning cup of wine and you in turn his.

If he were to be so goddamn lucky as to be in the same room as you, you would stumble out of there with a tummy full of triplets and a bounty of stretch marks.

“I would give all I am and have to be a loving husband, a dutiful father, if you would see it fit for that to be my path.” He bows his head and brown curls cascade around his face, an angel in the mouth of the guillotine. “At least cure me of this ailment if not, I can hardly stand the teasing from my uncles when I lose focus during the training simulations.”

Nightmares are becoming dreams in my darkest hours.

“My deepest thanks for hearing my prayer, I… I apologize, it is rather foolish I admit. I am not sure what’s come over me.”

The statue's eyes dim and it whirs as it powers down upon the prince’s exit. A most trouble occurence for one of their very own, but once this message is approved and received, the Gods will know the apt solution. Dragon eggs are their own star systems too, the cracks betwixt specks of color in the scales their own constellations, and the men born from them are the apples of the gods’ chromatic rainbow eyes.

A ghostly roar nips at Jacaerys’ heels as he strides towards his chambers, kicking off and throttling the silver pipes.

“For what it is worth, I am of the opinion that your brown hair and brown eyes suit you. Being around your family is no different than going for a stroll in the snow, but you stand out as the tree of solace in the middle. Sturdy and warm in its own way, something you rest on when you grow weary of the world around you.”

Your widening eyes are the first things he sees when he next wakes up. Jacaerys is content to consider this a dream until he moves to brush some of his hair away from his face and is stopped by a harsh clang.

The universe is howling.

He looks down to see valyrian steel chains dragging on the floor attached to cuffs around his wrists. The chains are of considerable length, he imagines that he could walk around the entire room and never get the bindings to go tight. His cuffs are so loose they hardly serve their purpose at all, but his flesh stings when he attempts to touch them. They would likely singe his skin off to the bone if he was their true prisoner and resisted. You have similar ones, but as soon as Jacaerys relaxes his chains vanish and he sits up to take stock of the room you are being held in.

Something sort of like an atrium, gleaming metallic tones with high ceilings and a large divot in the floor where the bed you both are on stands. Tall pillars showcase scrolling led screens, high valyrian scrawlings are preserved and repeated in scarlet pixels. The walls are replaced by windows into the vast openness of space, but it is different from what Jacaerys is used to. Outside is a sea of pure black, neon colors make up the waves, they seem to continuously bleed and fold into each other at the midpoint. There are no stars, no planets, but if Jacaerys squints and pays close attention he can just about make out the heavy flap of leathery wings.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright.” The prince whispers, turning his focus to your panic and stroking a finger down your cheek. “If we were supposed to be dead, we would not even be having this conversation.”

“The princeling is correct. You are safe in *indistinguishable*, this designated facility, our audience chamber, so long as you comply with us and our own.” A chorus of deep and crackling voices boom all at once in both of your minds, their syllables and inflections in their speech overlapping and melding together. “We have heard his prayers for your companionship and have decided to grant Jacaerys Velaryon his heart’s deepest desire. For he has raised valid concerns, this blessing is a multi purpose one.”

“Think of it as a bedding ceremony, and all that that name implies. Once conception is confirmed, you will face the brunt of a painful headache as we leave you. When you stumble into slumber, whether wrapped in an embrace or seperate, vessel number *indistinguishable* Dragonstone will house you once more.”

You gasp as the voices go quiet, and Jacaerys knows you must be aware of the feeling of being watched. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and gives you goosebumps down your forearms. Goose-pimpled flesh that Jacaerys traces with his fingertips, it’s the least he can do to give you a moment to calm down and get your bearings. Perhaps this is a sign that he has gone truly mad, because he can’t find the same trepidation in your expression within himself.

How often do prayers get answered? Yes, having a swarm of otherworldly all knowing beings witness your love making is quite unusual, but there is nothing Jacaerys would not put up with to form an everlasting covenant with you and your body. So he lays beside you, watching the fabric of your uniform shift and swish as you stretch your legs, a bumbling baby deer finding its footing.

He would smile and laugh, because he’d truly believe no one had ever been happier in their lives than he, but you probably would not take it all that well.

You shut your eyes tightly, either coming to grips with the bizarre reality you now found yourself in or desperately clinging to the hope that this was all a dream brought on by contaminated rations.

“M-my prince… this is not how i envisioned this moment.” You murmur at last, your eyes opening to meet his.

He wonders what you mean by that, could you really have wanted him in all the ways he has wanted you? Surely not all of them, but in the most basic and carnal of them.

Suddenly he knows in his bones that is what the two of you are meant to do, that this is so impossibly right that it must be woven in the grand fabric of fate’s design.

Jacaerys tuts and extends an offering of peace, entertaining his fingers with yours, “I’ll be gentle, this is my first time as well. It was not like I could practice without you finding out about it, I did not wish to hurt your feelings.”

Your brows pinch as he speaks, an instinctive coo gets trapped and tangled in his vocal chords. That expression is precisely why he is glad to be relying on scandalous hologram demonstrations and enticingly hedonistic data scrolls, amusingly numerous and often exuberantly descriptive. His confidence is triple what it was once years past, and Jacaerys would dearly love to lead you by example.

Fake it till you make it, but he is cocky enough now to believe you will never have to pretend in the first place.

A lock must have opened inside you, an opening made ready for him, because your brow lines smooth out and you go lax on the bed spread. You blink up at him as if trying to eat your nerves with your eyes by overindulging on the sight of him. Your face must be hot to the touch, as brave of a front as you’re putting on, you are not immune to embarrassment or fraying nerves.

Jacaerys sharply inhales and takes the tentative first step, settling a hand at the top of your chest and dragging it downward. His fingers catch on the buttons in your bodice and he undoes them with only a couple minor fumbles here and there.

“Ah.” The prince groans, peeling back the black panels in your uniform to uncover the skin beneath. “These breasts are wasted on servant rags, they’re so beautiful. You’re so very beautiful, my love.”

Your teats are round and perky things, so over encumbered with themselves that your flesh pushes out in between his fingers as he squeezes them softly. You softly moan and recline even further on the bed, as much as you are able with the chains still holding onto you. Jacaerys chuckles and lifts each one as if here debating on which decorative jeweled necklace weighed more, the rubies or the emeralds.

“Thank you, my prin- Jacaerys.” You sigh, never forgetting your well taught manners, and then gasp, “Wait, do not just grope them like that- Gods-“

Upon further investigation, the ruby, your right breast, is marginally heavier and bigger, but Jacaerys refuses to have favorites so resolves to love the emerald just as much. He rolls them in his palms for a bit before departing with a loving pat to your nipples.

His palms softly fall to bracket either side of your head, caging you in. “Now come, grant me a kiss, your nerves will fade with practice. What is there to be afraid of?”

His voice grows shakier than he’d like it too, a genuine hint of uncertainty shining through. In this he knows, at least, that it would do you a world of good to take your own leaps of faith. It would have been cruel to ask you such a thing when he had been sitting farther away, but now he is oh so close, the tips of your noses brush against each other is a shy sort of kiss.

Your eyes flick down to his lips and before he can say anything else, you’re leaning forward as much as you can and pressing against them. Jacaerys is pleased that his earlier assertion of your temperament was correct and turns his head, deepening the kiss and slotting his lips in the empty spaces left by your own as they part.

He laughs when the kiss is broken, airy and on the wings of a more formidable beast than love. The beings watching must already be impatient, for when he presses his chest further into yours, he notices a sudden lack of clothes. As if the Gods had grown tired of waiting for you to undress each other properly, not that Jacaerys minds all that much.

The prince snakes a hand in between your bare bodies, slipping down to cup your mound. He sweeps you up in another kiss so as to not afford you the opportunity to shy away when his digits sink into your slick.

“This cunt is overflowing, is this where it feels best? My thumb is right on your pearl just. like. this.” He teases and sketches tight circles on your bud, shifting his body weight to keep you down when you kick out your legs reflexively.

You keen into his open mouth, a high pitched bottle rocket about to go off and explode into bursts of bright color “Yes! Jace, just like that, don’t stop, oh my Gods- I’m so wet, how am i so wet?”

You ask him about your own body like you’re genuinely bewildered and Jacaerys is so charmed, so in love. He wouldn't peg you as the type to go a long while without slithering your hands up your skirt and delivering an unsatisfying orgasm, this much liquid must be drowning you. He takes his sweet time, flicking and playing your pearl in an obsessive fashion, taking your plush breasts into his mouth as his tongue lavishes them in saliva.

You’re making such melodic sounds, one of the songbirds must have escaped from the automated menagerie and fluttered their wings into his arms. Pinks and oranges and greens and purples and oranges spill across the void in his peripheral vision, but this bastardized marriage bed is the only thing Jacaerys cares about. It doesn’t matter that there is no sound save for the squelch of his fingers in your cunt and his rose petal pink lips popping off your tits repeatedly.

Jacaerys has seen many moons during the ship’s travels through the vastness of space, but the way your hips are arching off the bed in search of more of his touch would make any one of them bleed red in embarrassment.

Amused, he teases you now, slowing down his concentric circles into loose ringlets. “So this is not enough?”

“Jacaerys, please- You know it’s not.” You glare but still grind your hips up into his hand, not even bothering to address him by his title, he’ll let it slide in this instance.

He dips down to press a few last kisses to your breasts, nipping at your pebbled nipples and sliding a finger into your cunt. He crooks his fingers, going at a leisurely pace and waiting until you’re near tears to insert a second.

“Mmh, who knew i’d come by such a hungry cunny, almost carnivorous in its attempts to keep me inside its snatch.” Jacaerys grins and pumps his fingers, going faster as he slips a third and then a fourth one in, feeling how your walls cling onto their shape.

You’re like a leech, suckling at his flesh to the point of blood loss.

“ ‘m not…… don’t talk about it like that. Fuck, yes- Jace- take what’s yours already, i’m burning up.”

He kisses you again and abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, slapping your clit in one heavy strike. For all his efforts of taking things slow and keeping the atmosphere gentle and loving, you inspire such a deep teasing streak in him. He could never seriously hurt you, but quick smacks resulting in your eyes flashing with lightning aren’t off the table.

You whimper, wetting yourself under the heel of his palm. The intense colors around you swirl into a psychedelic kaleidoscope pattern, rhythmic beeping comes from the pillars and the atrium seems to hold its breath. You don’t notice when your mind begins to unravel, babbling about needing it being too much and you need to pee. Because there’s a drop of shame that your intuition injects in you, something more than being on the brink of a climax.

“You’re so sensitive, my love, did the slaps make it worse?.” He coos, serving you slap after slap after slap, nothing worse than what would make his hand and your mound sizzle. “Good, you can piss if you need to, there is nothing to be embarrassed about with me.”

You’re so cute, he could never understand how people could stand marrying for anything other than love. The worry that his heart will expand too quickly and splatter around the rungs of his ribcage, that you feel when you lay with someone you love, is a sensation he would slay his kin for. He is aware of its luxury, that he is lucky to experience it at all during his life on the spaceship he will live and die in. He sends a brisk thank you to his ancestors for taking yours with them when they departed and took flight from Earth, the beauty of your swollen tits and stomach will honor them.

And oh, how he wants to make you come on his tongue and around his fingers and every other way possible. In the depths of his soul, Jacaerys wants you to feel as if you were falling from a very high tower, a royal with no choice but to fall skull first into the great nothingness of the beyond. The fragments would adorn the cobblestone just like how your tears frame your lashes.

No, the first time you shatter and crumble to nothing will be around his cock. Stardust sprinkled over the void, scattered like ashes.

Perhaps the worst sin Jacaerys will commit tonight is that he is too impatient to continue the foreplay. He knows that no amount would prevent you from enduring any pain, but he also knows that he did not do enough. He, and the celestial Gods hidden in the stellar bushes, wants you to feel the burn of his cock stretching your walls. Commencing a wedding of sorts between your cervix and his throbbing tip.

“W-wait, ah!”

“Be pliant for me and take my seed, stop being so stubborn and let yourself have this, allow it to blossom and it can just be us for the next round, sweetling. I swear it.”

He will guide you through all the details later.

The neon waves crash against the windows, and the led scrawlings on the pillars glitch and scramble and unscramble themselves as you come together. The atrium dissolves into numbers after you’ve fallen asleep for the final time in the chamber, Jacaerys’s hand clutching your belly and your head pillowed on his chest. Giant wings cradle the pair in their center, ghastly creaking and groaning as they slice through the shifting rainbow patterns. Each moon along the journey is full and winking.

Jacaerys thinks he sees a comet fly over your heads when he’s halfway to consciousness, and he traces the valyrian letters for ‘I love you’ into the bloated skin of your stomach.

The chapel has mysteriously changed places on Dragonstone by the time of your actual wedding, the statue lies dormant.

[enchantedanimal]

All of the QSMP eggs as dragons!

Now for my design notes/headcanons! (There's a lot lol)

- The color pallettes are (for the most part) based off of their parent/parents. In lore terms, l'd imagine that more time they spent around their parents before they hatched, the more their color developed to mimic them. It would usually be used as a survival strategy with their dragon parents, however sometimes their personality overcomes this and they develop their own color.

- Being dragonets, none of them can fly due to their currently underdeveloped wings.

- Tilin's yellow spots would make Quackity think that Wilbur was supposed to be the other parent.

- Tallulah's colors/features are close to that of a duck. It would likely be a coincidence, but it'd be enough to Quackity to feel like the island was mocking him.

- Tallulah's "hair" is feathers. She's the only one with feathers, and it may either be a cause or effect of her being left in the attic (possibly being mistaken to be an egg from a different species and not a dragon, or the coldness of the attic caused feathers to form).

- Tallulah and Tilin have the same colored eyes since Quackity once said that she reminds him of Tilin.

- Chayanne has fins bc he likes doing mlg water bucket clutches and fishing with Missa.

- Chayanne's tail fin, Leonarda's ear, and Richarlyson's wing are ripped in a spot due to loosing a life. Bobby lost one of his after I designed him but one of his horns would be chipped, and forgot Ramón only had one as well so let's just pretend he's got a scar on his left leg lol.

- Its kinda subtle, but Chayanne has protruding bottom canines, similar to my (and many others') Techno design.

- Fun fact that usually in my style I have the neck spines start from the top of the head. Ramon is purposely "bald".

- Ngl I don't have much to say about Trump bc he died so quick (rip) and I never saw much about him; but his hat is too big for his head.

- Bobby is a wyvern bc it's easier to slap everyone with his wings. He also headbutts and slaps ppl with his tail (those hurt more).

- Bobby's colors are less based after his parents, but the orange/blue complementary colors are kinda more of a nod to Jaiden being an artist (which doesn't make a whole lot of sense now idk my brain just defaulted to that), but feel they match his personality as well. Also his scleras (part of eye that's not the iris/pupil) are black unlike the rest who's are normal.

- Leonarda has a tiny mushroom pin on her hat and their back has mushroom-like spots for the hat she always wears.

- People keep saying that Leo somehow looks like Foolish which is funny bc that wasn't even intentional- in fact was worried that she would be one of the only ones who didn't resemble her parents enough. I did try to make her slightly taller but I'm going to guess that it's the jawline lol

- [Edit bc I just thought of it] Leo's wings are bigger bc they've grown faster due to using them more to glide off of Foolish's/Veg's builds

- Dapper is built to be more bipedal than quadrupedal (their dewclaws on their back feet act more like a normal toe for better traction/ stabilization). This makes it easier to grab (or steal) things for their collection. And hold a taser.

- Richarlyson is based after an iguana! thought it would fit well (it's kinda hard to base him off of 5 different people lol)

- Had to go off of a secondhand info + auto translations (I can understand a decent amount of Spanish but have no idea when it comes to Portuguese so this could be off) but think there was something about Richarlyson having a bad leg both in and out of rp, and think maybe Cellbit said something about him having a prosthetic for it and I thought that was so so cool! It's based semi loosely off of a dog hind leg prosthetic and a human running one; probably wouldn't actually be functional but tried to keep the general shape of the leg.

- Richas and his dads cover it in stickers :)

- Juanaflippa's tail and probably the lower half of her front legs (which aren't visible) are semi transparent from Charlie (yellow comes from Mariana), and it shifts around a bit! It looks more like slime than it feels like it. I've been calling her Bananaflippa endearingly

- Gegg intentionally looks like Juanaflippa a bit (but he's way more slimy)

- Gegg's inventory basically consists of him absorbing random things which are sometimes visible (he is so full of avocado toast). He's like Bob from Monsters vs Aliens or smth idk haven't seen that movie in forever.

There some smaller less exciting details and other headcanons I have for them (such as extra accessories they'd have like Tallulah wearing sweaters) but that's about it! Feel free to ask about anything I like talking about them lol

[cheerioskid]

the lonely little sun :,)

this is a little skyblings comic i made for the moonrise au by @germworms and i!! more details below vv

some general context if you're not familiar with the au: basically it's a life series/hermitcraft au about gods and humans and kingdoms and all that cool stuff :) pearl and grian are the current moon and sun gods respectively (their predecessors are joel and lizzie but there are other posts for their lore)

now onto the comic vv

a big concern of grians is becoming too overwhelmed with his position as sun god as that can cause a supernova and subsequently the destruction of the entire system soooo

all throughout childhood pearl has made it clear to him that she's always available to talk to and as a way of looking out for him she often (not maliciously) speaks on his behalf and allows him to be a recluse basically (she just really cares for him as they're both the only close family they really have; jimmys like a distant cousin in this au lmao)

when they were kids and coming to terms w the fact that they're literal gods w responsibilities pearl would try to tell grian the story of joel (prev sun god) and his fate in a very roundabout way as to not scare him but warn him about the pressures of his future position and encourage him to be open with her

(also ik stars are technically scott's thing in the au but the sun is also a star?? sooo it makes sense when in reference to grian/joel)

the dialogue is taken from shane koyczan's piece "for instance" i highly recommend checking it out!! all of his poetry is insane and heart wrenching

check out the moonrise au tag and Sea's profile for more posts and lore!!!

[meanbossart]

Since Bhaal was a human before he ascended, and the dead three were introduced between 2-3e before some things became standardized as they are now, I like the idea of Bhaal just not knowing what most non-humans look like. He knows the general idea, but if your Durge is a tiefling for example, he’s not sure about like, the foot situation. Are they like human feet (plantigrade) or like imp feet (digitigrade) they have tails… but do they taper or have a tuft at the end. That sort of thing.

So to most people outside of Durge’s “race” they just sort of shrug it off cause that’s not a question you ask a stranger, but it just amps up the unease when surrounded by others.

I’m rambling a bit, I see a lot of active Durges and tbh I feel like there’s a missed angle in regards to the fact they are a bit of rotten god meat given form and sapience. You ever see a short film called the backwater gospel? That’s the vibe I’m imagining

I get what you mean and I do like the concept! I think it can pretty reasonably go both ways. Either a at-a-glance perfectly normal normal member of X species made that way to be more easily embraced into every-day society and blend into its population, or something more "off-brand" for one reason or another. Bhaal is a weird guy who makes weird decisions, you can bend a lot of things to make them work in your favor lore-wise.

Also, I can't really be given much credit for this decision. Do not be mistaken: beefy drow came first, lore came later. I made DU drow huge and gave him cool eyes because I felt like it and wasn't expecting to play this game for very long. It took me getting sucked into the story and sucked into DnD as consequence for me to even care about DU drow not looking anything like... Well, a drow, and deciding I needed to justify it within the story in some way.

The (rather vague) way I choose to think about it, is that wherever Bhaal's flesh happened to land/sprout/spawn into existence, it was bound to roughly imitate it's surroundings, however badly. Like planting a tree in a biome where it doesn't usually thrive and watching it desperately try to adapt and flourish regardless.

I also choose to believe Bhaal wanted his spawn to suffer and develop a healthy dose of misanthropy, which is why he put him somewhere where he was VASTLY more likely to perish - if he lived despite all odds, then he would know for sure he was worthy of being his progeny.

[edgeray]

Hello 🍉anon again, hope you’re doing okay and I hope my writing is not atrocious for this request. This idea has been on my mind for an Arlecchino x dragon reader(similar to Neuvillette). So, Arlecchino receive a report from her operatives that an unknown creature is lurking in the shadow near Poisson, that keeps on attacking the others fatui members and stealing their rations. She tells them that she will look into it eventually as she doesn’t want their ressources to be stolen. She starts to investigate to gather information on this creature and possibly locate it and by a twisted turn of fate, stumbles into a dragon(secretly the reader)that look awfully hurt and almost on the verge of dying. Arlecchino took pity on the rather tiny looking dragon (tought it seems to be an adult one) and brought them to the house of the heart to treat their wounds.

As the times pass and Arlecchino started to grow fond of the dragon, she see in the corner of the room, a human. Visibly confused, she starts to draw her scythe ready to impale the person in front of her should they pose a threat. Then the reader just go up to her and nuzzle into her as if it was the most natural thing in the world and it was at this moment that she realized it was the dragon she had rescued. They start to bond and eventually grow more intimate with each others.

My Little Fire

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N -  Hi 🍉 Anon! Nice to see you again <3. Sorry this took so long. I just spoiled you guys with dragon arle, but how about dragon reader? Great idea, anon. Y'all really love dragons huh? Dragons are cool af, I don't blame you guys.  Unfortunately, I dunno a whole lot of genshin lore, so how genshin dragons work, idrk. I made you a Pyro Dragon, because bonding over fire abilities >>>  Dunno why I was so braindead while writing this, but that's why this took me an extra day to write this. By the way, the title is the english translation of the last three words. I headcanon that Arlecchino can speak Fontainian (French).  Content warnings / info - monster x human, reader is a dragon, reader is referred to ‘it’ for the most part, not second pov until the middle, arle's pov, reader is gn!, 1.7k words

Arlecchino didn't typically deal with these sorts of outings, not when her job typically dealt with information gathering and diplomacy. However, she couldn't turn a blind eye to this report in another Fatui camp situated in Poisson. Purportedly, rations have been going missing despite attempts to secure and protect them. Fatui operatives have been injured, and while Arlecchino does not doubt that some incompetence may have come into play, she does not believe that they are truly that incompetent. The operatives confirm that it is some type of creature, given the claws marks and the teeth indents the harmed operatives detailed. Whatever it was, it was too quick for the members to see, and so she now had to deal with it. 

Arriving at the camp, witness accounts didn't prove to be very helpful in terms of identifying the troublesome critter. However, the storage room, where the rations were stored, provided an interesting story to her. Unsurprisingly, clawed scratches littered around the containers of food, though she notices the indentures were caused by rather small paws. Despite the suggestion that the creature was rather tiny, it did not mean that creature was not weak, able to cut through solid metal. Interestingly enough, scorch marks also surrounded the area, even though there were no burns recorded in the injury accounts. The creature also seems rather famished. Each occurrence it raids the storage room, a considerable amount of food was stolen. Fascinating. Arlecchino can think of very few creatures like this but all of them seem implausible. 

However, there was a pattern to this creature’s visits. Every three nights, it came, wrecking havoc to whatever was in its way, but Arlecchino is sure that she'd be successful in capturing the beast tonight. She orders that no operatives are around the area–the last thing she desires is some inept fool getting in her way–and then she waits outside. 

It's near midnight when she first sees a glimpse of the creature's silhouette, about the size of a cat, but she can make out a long tail with spikes. Just as she anticipated, the creature appeared, flying through the open window she purposely opened. It pauses at the entrance, as if observing the lack of guards, but not questioning it as it dashes across the floor. Either this isn't a very smart creature, or its desperation for food outweighs the risks. Regardless, it just made a mistake. 

She uses her speed to enter the room before the creature has time to react, standing in front of the window it entered through. She closes the window, her eyes narrowing down on the now cornered beast. A scaled creature, with horns and wings. Its ears flattens against its head and their wings press against its body, imitating the fearful behavior a mutt would display. The longer she observers the creature the more she realizes that these traits match those of a dragon, albeit a very small dragon. She wonders if this was just a hatchling. 

The small dragon snarls at her, and a blaze emanates from its spine, the flames coursing down to its tail. The bright flames illuminate the dragon's features more, and it's when she notices that blood is spewing from a gruesome cut on its leg. 

An injured Pyro Dragon? It's terribly small, and she can't imagine how this one is still alive given its injury. Although the fire is an indicator it's a mature adult, the size is a cause of concern. What a pitiful thing.  

Arlecchino’s eyes flicker over to the box that the dragon tried getting into. As she approaches it, the dragon snarls, tensing its body to lunge at her at any second, however, she simply ignores it. Opening the lid, she's met with thick cuts of raw meat. She takes several cuts of the meat from the insulated container, before holding it out in front of the dragon. If the dragon needs raw meat, she has a particular selection of premium raw meat for herself that she could use for the dragon. 

“Eat,” she demands as she offers the food. The dragon, still maintaining its anxious behavior, stalks closer, sniffing the food before it latches its teeth on the steak. 

“I have as much meat as you could want, better quality as well. I'll feed you, shelter you, and take care of that cut for you. Come with me.” She says, offering another slab of meat. 

The dragon doesn't respond, nor stop eating, but its body relaxes. By the time it reaches its last piece of meat, it's eating out of her hand. Arlecchino uses the close proximity to examine the dragon's injuries. The dragon nudges its head against her hand, and Arlecchino strokes the dragon's head. 

“Will you come home with me?” 

The dragon gives her an affirmative croak. 

—

The dragon did not grow any larger even in the months it stayed with her, nor did it transform into its human form yet. Its wound had been festering for quite a while, however under her care, it is healing remarkably quickly. Arlecchino proposes that the dragon is using its energy to heal from the wound. Had the dragon not done so, it would have surely met an agonizing fate. This continuous depletion didn't allow for the  dragon to grow in size, transform, or use its powers and it would have continued in that state for years had she not rescued it. 

It must be because of this that the dragon does not take long to get attached to her.

The dragon always sticks near her, sometimes physically on top of her. If it's not on her shoulder or head, then it's on her lap. Getting accustomed to how clingy the dragon is was a struggle, but she soon learns. 

If she'd allow it, it'd follow her everywhere. It's almost endearing. 

It only took three days for the dragon to sneak into her bedroom. The morning after, she awakened with an unfamiliar weight over her torso, and she found that the dragon was nestled on top of her. The next night that she slept, it was nuzzled against her neck and sprawled over her right shoulder. She'd be lying if she said it was an unwelcome sight, and it became a nightly occurrence. 

Often the dragon would play and entertain the House of the Hearth children. Sometimes, it'd accompany her outside, but only on certain missions. After all, she needed to test the dragon’s abilities in its current condition, and who better to test it on than the scum of Fontaine? 

Something else she finds intriguing is that the dragon devours fire, much like how the Iudex fancies his water, though the dragon is particular to her blood flames than any typical flames. On occasion, she uses her powers as a treat that the creature happily indulges in. 

Arlecchino only wonders what more she would learn once the dragon finally transforms. 

—

Arlecchino returns to the House of the Hearth after another irritating Harbinger meeting, rather exasperated and irked by some of the impudence and dimness of her ‘coworkers.’ She reaches her bedroom, exhaling a sigh. Before she enters, she hears scuffling from beyond her bedroom door. Her door is slightly cracked open, implying that someone had entered during her absence. From the small opening of her door, she catches a glimpse of a figure. Instantly, her eyes narrow and she withdraws her scythe. 

Intruders have no place in her house. She knows that no children are inside, as it's one of the first things she's instilled when they first come: stay away from her room under any circumstance. So who is this audacious soul that dares trespass into her chambers?

Upon opening the door, she does not expect the speed of her assailant, as a figure crashes into her, wrapping their arms around her neck, face pressed against her neck. Arlecchino is momentarily stunned by the action, but for some reason, it feels familiar. The body is abnormally hot, too warm for a human being. This isn't someone she recognizes, and she was about to throw the being off of her when she paused. A purr erupts from the other person's throat, the vibrations coursing through the Harbinger. 

“Arle…” the person murmurs, the name making Arlecchino hesitate. They lean away, tilting their head and glancing up at her, and then her breath hitches. Vibrant, slitted eyes stare back at her, that gaze only belonging to a certain dragon she knows. 

“You're the–”

“–Dragon. It's finally nice to meet you, Arlecchino,” you say, as you finally uncoil your arms around her. Arlecchino observes you for longer, her scythe disappearing. Now that there's no threat, Arlecchino takes the time to observe your human form. 

“Are you fully healed?”

You nod, giving her a soft smile. “I am. Thank you. I'm indebted to you. I'm sure you know of this, but I would not have survived for much longer if it weren't for your help. If you'd allow me, I'd like to work under you as a repayment. I'm sure you'd like what I have to offer.” 

Arlecchino closes her eyes, a ghost of a smile appearing over her lips. “Very well.” 

—

Arlecchino learns many things about you. She learns of your favorite food, which happens to be her blood fire. The way you favor your meat served and how you're incredibly food-excitable. She learns that your wings and tails are incredibly sensitive underneath her fingertips and she is well aware that she abuses this knowledge. She learns that your presence lifts her heart and it’s only you that can appreciate her curse. 

Your favorite touch from her is your head. Everyday, she'd pat you on the head the same way she did the night she saved you. Kissing your forehead and carding through your hair are close seconds.

She learns that there are some things that don't change even with your new form. While you never return to your small size in your dragon form, it does not mean you still do not linger around her, sitting in her lap when she's at her desk. You still play with the children, often acting as the ‘Mother’ role that the children did not have. And every night, you return to her bedside, embraced in her arms. 

There are a few things that have changed with your new form. Arlecchino feels as if you've rekindled her, your love is another flame in her veins that doesn't scorch her being, but instead, you warm her soul, consuming her cursed blood flames. 

It's what inspires the name that she always calls you before you drift to sleep. 

“Mon petit feu.”