#its all fake. fantasy is what we make of it now

[redstrewn]

Id honestly reject canon and keep going w whatever the fuck the fandom has going on

what if we went insane all these years and in the end leander turns out to be just a normal guy with some mommy issues

[autisticlee]

I don't understand why so many religious weirdos claim dinosaurs never existed and the bones/fossils dug out of the ground were buried under rock by scientists and then dug back out. it makes no sense at all. does their religion book tell them they were fake? is that what it is? because they seem to love letting some old mistranslated book dictate their entire life, thoughts, feelings, actions, etc. they even make up stuff the book supposedly says to excuse their behavior and justify horrible things, which makes them hypocrites for not actually following their book they claim tells them exactly how to live their lives that they must follow exactly or they will go to hell. but they sure like to pick and choose what they follow and make up new rules. but anyway, why do they hate dinosaurs lmao

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 8 - Jason Fucking Todd

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Well, look on the bright side of things. You’re not crying right now. That’s nice. You’re not an intern anymore. That’s nice. You struggle to think of anything else. Oh yeah, you’re rich! That’s also nice. You’re not dead. Nice.

This is kind of pathetic. You just feel bummed after having to break up with George a second time. And getting smacked right in the face by him. Which you know, anybody would be, you think. You don’t think a single soul has ever known the George Lancaster Break-Up Special more than once. And you didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to fall for that asshole more than once.

You couldn’t fake a brave face anymore, you just didn’t have the energy for it.

…And let’s not forget almost dying via Joker goon. Not even the man himself, just a random lackey. You think of how he literally disappeared in front of your eyes, and decide you are going to stop thinking. It’s doing you no good anyway.

Instead, you just start walking. Letting your feet and your intimate knowledge of Gotham’s streets, even in this area you don’t often frequent, guide you. You find yourself at the train station. With little consideration, you buy a ticket to the southern part of the city. The bad side of town, the docks, where your apartment used to be.

You feel like a little rat scurrying back into the sewers as you hop on the subway, tucking yourself in between people who don’t recognise you, probably because of your general dishevelment.

Shoulders knocking against strangers, you feel the most at home since this whole disaster started. You stare across the train car, watching a baby babble to its mother. It catches your eye, gives you a big toothless smile, and some snot dribbles into it’s mouth. The mother notices and cleans the baby up with a tissue. When she catches you staring, you give a very awkward but friendly smile, and she smiles back.

A tiny weight lifts off your shoulders. Surrounded by the chaos of Gotham, as the subway exits the tunnels and heads up onto the sky rails, you find yourself warm by the rays of sun through the clouds. The view is beautiful, as it always is. Usually, you’d be looking at your phone, too busy to enjoy the sights. But it really is beautiful.

It’s only when you hear the announcer calling out that you realise you did this for a reason, and dart out of your seat and through the narrowly closing doors. The metal closes behind you with a small hiss. The Docks station, for most people, would be one of the better Gotham train stations. Newly built, and with all the tourist money it was clean. Well, clean as it could get. You’d read some article about the bacteria the rats were carrying being not found anywhere else on earth, and you’d decided to stop reading articles.

Anyway, for you, even the shining marble of the station was a sad sight. Because you only ever came here on your very worst days.

This seemed like one of them.

The familiar streets flit past you, barely something you’re even cognisant of. This part of the city was mostly new, the concrete fresh under your feet instead of littered with potholes. Still, it wasn’t at the centre of the blast radius, so it hadn’t been totally demolished.

No, that was just up ahead. And like everything else in this weird new world, you immediately noticed something different. Where your family had died was… still there, for some reason.

With confusion, exhaustion, and no small bit of despair, you stop in the middle of the pathway outside the remnants of what used to be an old diner and was now just a pile of rocks. Some very charred rocks. Looking at the wreckage, you raise your brows. Its crumbling form is still under construction after all these years. The yellow caution tape is only a deterrence to you because you don’t want to end up on the gossip reels for a second time today. Looking around, you find yourself further confused. Lots of other parts of the pier had been redeveloped, but this piece of the puzzle still lay bare.

It didn’t, in your home, your world. It had been replaced with high-rise apartments, and since they were so close to the water, so pretty and new, you had no hope of affording them. It probably wouldn’t be very good for your mental health even if you could. Still, you’d taken many walks past the street. Enjoyed the little bit of dirty white concrete that had survived. You and your siblings had signed your names into it, and you’d stroked the sidewalk like the weirdo you were many times.

Like you did today. And today, for some reason, the rest of it was here. Untouched. A remnant of the disaster. As you run your thumb along the sharp edge of Julie’s J, you find yourself once again lost in your memories. They were like honey traps to you these days.

The mum-and-pops diner had been run by your uncle. It’d been in the family for three generations, and he was incorrigibly proud of it. You’d all had your birthday parties there, because it was free and you were poor. It wasn’t like your uncle would let you pay for the food anyway, it was just one of the few times Mum could stand the generosity. She didn’t like it when you had disappointing birthdays, and no matter how much you tried to fake your happiness, she could always see to your core. Eventually, you and your siblings all gave up on trying.

You were late. You were often late, but this time it was… it was the difference between life and death. If you’d been a few blocks further, a little bit earlier, you’d probably be dead too. Or at least have some serious hearing loss instead of just suffering mild tinnitus.

You had felt more than seen the destruction. The earth had rumbled, and a deafening roar had swept through the streets. You remember falling to your knees, the worry about being late morphing to worry for your best clothes to a true terror when you realised where the blast had come from.

When you realised your family was in the epicentre.

You sometimes wish you were on time that day. That you’d gotten to see them all, even if you went with them. It didn’t sound so bad, really. At least you wouldn’t be alone. Hmm, you should probably stop thinking like that. Or maybe go to a therapist about it.

Not that you could afford it. Oh, right. Rich now. That was really taking some getting used to.

You wonder if people who won the lottery felt the same way. Probably not, because the rest of the world reflected the changes the person felt. They’d have to go pick up the check, go to the bank, and if they let their family and friends know, deal with the consequences of that.

You’d just woken up rich. No time to adjust, your new life was here and it was demanding your attention very loudly. And soup-ly, unfortunately. After a few minutes of staring blankly at the rubble, you look towards your left, where you know the Memorial awaits you. It’s in the centre of the new shopping district, built on top of the bombed parts of Gotham. It sits right next to the water, the cold breeze a comfort that you’d turned to on more than one occasion.

You’d feel bad if you didn’t change your clothes. You told Grayson you would, and you already felt bad enough about... everything to do with him. You suppose he was your brother. Your ex-brother. Ex-step-brother. The ex-step-brother of a woman who you weren’t.

Really, he was just a stranger. It seemed he didn’t feel that way, though.

You start the walk towards the shopping district, and into the first clothes store you see. The prices on the tags would usually make you flinch, but well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing seems to matter. Your survival is now guaranteed, might as well wear some clothes that feel nice on your skin.

You walk out of that store looking like you just robbed it. Even the clerk had given you a weird look but accepted the black card tucked in your phone without much complaint. It’s an improvement if a small one.

Once you’re done, like a moth to a flame, you drift towards the Memorial centre. You’re following all the steps you used to in the past, but somehow, it all feels a bit alien. The world looks a little different, a little uncomfortable. Your shoes are worn in, and yet they still feel too tight.

Uncanny valley. You feel unwelcomed here, unwanted. Like the very earth can tell that there’s something wrong in this scene, some intruder. You ignore the feeling as best you can.

The Memorial is just as unfamiliar as the diner was, maybe even more. You know that your mother was a Wayne before she died. You know that. But still seeing your family’s framed photos, right alongside Jason's is so shocking you nearly jump. It takes a moment of wide-eyed staring before you can manage to get past that. When you do, for some reason you still go back to your old habits. You walk by them, the bouquets and to where their names used to be in thin letters.

You count with your fingers, finding the fifty-second line.

A man’s name replaces the spot where your mother’s is. The little grooves the oil in your fingers had left behind were gone, and instead was sharp stone like when the monument was first erected. It cuts at your fingers. It no longer welcomes your touch.

James Whitaker. That’s the name of the man who took their spot.

You can already feel a rising obsession with the random dead man. If you were going to psycho-analyse yourself, you’d recognise that you didn’t feel that the images of the Waynes you’d created were no longer real, no longer safe to your escapist mindset. You’d realise, that this was all pretty unhealthy, and you really, really needed therapy.

Instead, you give the guy your condolences and start reading the other plinths. They seem largely the same. It’s not like you hadn’t read all of these towers of stone at one point or another, your eyes glazing over the many, many names. So much devastation, all in one moment.

And still, this was not even a tenth of all the lives the Joker had taken. You kinda wanna go take a kick at one of the Bat signals littered around the city. Maybe that’d make you less… broiling with incompetent rage.

Again, maybe you should just go to therapy. You should call Jeanine about that or something.

Eventually, you circle back to your family and Jason’s shrines. You know, back then you’d been jealous that Jason Todd had been so well mourned. You’d wished your family had gotten the same treatment.

Now, you… felt jealous again. Possessive, over their memory, their image. You didn’t really like that random strangers that never knew them… knew them. That Sam always got As in English and Art class but would sometimes skip math and would hide in the bathrooms to do so. That Chasey had struggled with going to school because of her anxiety but kept going because she had a friend going through the exact same thing. That Julie was the ace of her school’s soccer team, and that she’d almost gotten them to nationals even in the presence of all the super-rich schools in Gotham. That your Mum was a great cook but genuinely hated doing it, but for some reason, baking was her favourite thing even as she had never made a proper macaron.

They didn’t know them. They knew their faces and a facsimile of them, but they didn’t know them. It reminded you of the people at the orphanage. Nice, but not kind. They’d had their own lives, they didn’t want some bratty, demented teenager who was going down and planning on taking everyone with her.

You really couldn’t be happy, could you? Maybe you didn’t know what you wanted. What you want now. What you’d wanted for a while, actually.

Ugh. You close your eyes and let out a deep, soul-shaking sigh. It takes a moment for you to shore up the willpower to open them again. Come on, flower shop, finish your weird little ritual then you can go home and hide for the next millenia.

The walk there is the same as always, if a little more morose. It’s in a good spot, near the church just a block away and the memorial on its other side, as well as less sombre atmospheres down near the pier. Well, as little sombre as Gotham can manage.

You feel like you blink and you’re there. Too quickly, you find a rainbow of blooms in front of you, the scent of the blossoms washing over you. When you walk into the flower shop, the bell at the door rings the same as it always does. On autopilot, you walk over to the small, cheaper buds. Your hand clenches around the crinkly wrapping paper, a bundle of posies in your hand. You go to the counter with your prize in hand.

Larissa, the counter worker, smiles at you. Your breath hitches. It’s a working smile, not one of the real, toothy ones she used to give you.

“Oh wow, I thought all the posies had sold out. Lucky you!”

You think of something to say, but the moment passes and you don’t. She rings you up, tells you the price, and when you pay, asks sweetly if you want a receipt.

She doesn’t say your name. Doesn’t acknowledge how you come here every week and buy this same handful of flowers. She doesn’t ask about your job or the weather. She doesn’t cheerfully tell you about how her apprenticeship is going, or about the next sweet thing her partner has done. No, she just stares at you, growing more uncomfortable the longer it takes for you to answer.

She doesn’t even seem to recognise this other version of you. It feels like another string that tied you down to the earth has been snipped. You have an image in your head of a child losing a balloon, desperately grasping at the air. You’re going to float up into the atmosphere, and then you’re going to pop.

You can see the foil glinting in the sun’s light, so, so clearly.

You squeeze your eyes shut, “Yes, a receipt, please.”

Taking it blindly, you barely flutter your eyes open as you walk out of the shop. She didn’t know you, didn’t remember you. That doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. You hadn’t really known her. It doesn’t matter. There’s no real difference, it doesn’t matter.

It’s okay, it’s okay, it never really mattered. You keep telling yourself this as you walk back over to the memorial. As you lay your flowers down with the others, the little posies are dwarfed by the other donations. It didn’t matter. You didn’t know her. None of this matters. Their flowers don’t matter.

You don’t matter. You hit that errant thought with a mental fly swatter.

Exhausted, you sit down next to the monument. You used to be able to lay your head on the stone, able to feel your family in the warmth it had absorbed in the sun. Now you just sort of, awkwardly reached out to the small bit of uncovered plinth at the side. You have to stick your hand through a wreath to do so.

It’s not warm. You wonder if your family are sad. And then you wonder if you’re an idiot for attributing feelings to a literal rock.

After a while, you get up. Cross your arms. You stare at your family's portraits, eyes moving over their smiles. One by one. You recognise some of the photographs, those are your favourites. A smile cracks across your face when you see the picture of when Chasey lost her two front teeth. She still grins cheekily at the camera, uncaring for any changes to her appearance, as all kids shouldn’t.

Your shoulders fall just the slightest bit when you see the picture of Jason Todd. It’s one of his older pictures. Probably seventeen or something. He’d always been a lovely boy when he was younger. And he still was up till he died but you’d always thought you’d seen something start to change in him. That sparkle of innocence, dulled, just the slightest.

And then he’d died. And you’d wondered if maybe he’d felt it was coming.

You certainly hadn’t. It had been like a hurricane tearing through your life. You’d ended up on the other side completely abandoned, the only friend who’d bothered to keep seeing you being one who’d learnt to dodge train ticket costs like a damn ninja. And you’d had to decide whether you could keep doing this, whether you even wanted to.

You were an obsessive creature by nurture. It had been all you could do to hang onto the Waynes, pretend they would love and care for you even if they’d have never even noticed you in real life. You weren’t sure that was strength or simple human survival. Dying was scary. Of course, you were scared of dying.

Your whole family had died. So, you told yourself, that Jason Fucking Todd would be sad if you killed yourself, and somehow, you had made it all these years.

And now here you were, and the Waynes did notice you in real life. You were important to them. You didn’t want to be, but you were. And again, you have to ask yourself, what would Jason Todd ask of you? What would he want you to do now, in this impossible situation you’ve found yourself in?

You stare at the picture. Stare at the way the sun hits his dark hair and blue eyes. Stare very, very hard. Like he might crawl out and give you a detailed list of what to do. You’d really like a detailed list. Or any guidance at all. Maybe you could go hit up a seance or something.

Your head falls forward into your sun-warmed palms. This is so stupid. No answers are going to fall from the sky, you need to find them yourself. And you’re not going to find them here.

Someone walks up beside you to the old memorial, and you quickly tuck yourself back into an acceptable image. Fold in all the rough edges you can. A tall and well-built man, with a face mask, sunglasses and a trucker hat, he looks like he could be a celebrity or something. Someone important, much more than you.

And you weren’t, not technically, at least. The universe had done the equivalent of a shelving error, and now here you goddamn were.

He does an odd pose next to you, something military-esque, where he clasps his hands together and bows his head. With a quick flick of your eyes you confirm, yes, his feet are equal with his shoulders. It’s obvious that he’s paying his respects so you do your best not to judge him too hard.

And then he speaks to you.

“I’m sorry.”

You look up, startled and confused.

“For your loss,” the deep voice finishes, jerking his head toward the pictures in front of the two of you.

“Wha- oh uh, um,” you blink and then realise that this person has recognised you, which would make sense since you are literally in one of the photos in front of you, and manage to pull your fading conscious mind back together for a moment more.

“Thank you, uh-” you stare at him a moment longer, “You too?”

Almost worse than that time you told the barista who gave you your coffee you hoped she enjoyed hers too, but not quite. Well, you know, he’d probably lost someone here too. You don’t know why he’d be here otherwise unless he wanted an autograph or something. The thought almost makes you laugh.

He snorts at your words. You don’t know what to make of that.

He looks back down at the pictures and flowers. You think he does, at least, from the slight shifting of his head. He’s kind of mysterious. Pair that with the deep voice, the muscular and tall physique, and you’re an odd mix of attracted and socially anxious. Not that you’re not always socially anxious, but this guy feels… strong. Dumb again, you can see his biceps from here but…

You just can’t quite shake it off. Strong. Strong.

“They didn’t deserve it, none of them did,” he speaks again, and you wonder what the fuck he’s going on about at all.

You admit, you sound a little bitter when you mutter, “Well, that’s obvious.”

He lets out a bark of laughter, and you see his eyes flash to you from under his sunglasses. A shade of blue. There’s another odd pause, and then he turns to you. You don’t know why he’s looking at you. He crosses his arms, and seems to size you up.

“What are you doing here?” he asks you like he knows you.

Your brow furrows. Okay, kind of losing any hotness points here. Bothering someone who was grieving could’ve been seen as rude from the very start, but you’d just thought he was weird. Now, you thought he was weird and rude.

“…Paying my respects. Obviously,” you gesture downwards, “My mother, my siblings, and…”

Well, how would you describe the relationship between you and Jason Todd now? He was still just a stranger to you and-

“With who, that guy?”

Now, it isn’t often that you’re stunned into silence, but at the moment you can’t find it in you to do anything but stare and gape. Frankly, you’re astonished! You’ve never met anyone who spoke so rudely of the dead, and well, he couldn’t have picked a worse person to do it in front of.

“Excuse me?” your voice can’t seem to convey even half of your offence, even as you sound like you’re about ready to bite a second person for today. The man pauses like you’ve surprised him, which- what the fuck is going on? Why do you feel like an alien crash-landed on Earth these days?

“No, I just meant-” he huffs, shakes his head, and continues, his voice now offended too, “What the fuck am I saying? Yes, I did mean that. That little twerp was a naive idiot who was manipulated by the people he believed in most.”

You stare, absolutely speechless, as the stranger goes on a damn-fucking-near crazed rant about one of the people most important to you. Never met? Sure. Dead as hell? Absolutely. But still, he was one of your lifelines. Your candlelight in the dark, guiding your way even when you felt completely lost. And now he’s calling him a naive idiot? You can practically feel the steam coming out of your ears.

“He changed nothing, made no difference in the end-”

“Nothing?!” you practically shriek, finally able to find your voice just to use it to shout, “He changed… so much! He donated millions of dollars, did heaps of charity work, was practically a treasure to our city… He made multiple homeless shelters, an orphanage, helped rehabilitate criminals and countless other things.”

Your fists are clenched tight enough that they shake. You hide them behind your back, but you still feel like he can probably see them. Your emotions are simmering too close to the surface, bubbling over and onto the floor. About to burn his sneakers to ash.

“You seem like you care a lot,” he says, sounding reserved.

“Of course, I care.”

“…It’s just, you didn’t seem the type, on the TV,” he keeps talking, poking at you for some god-awful reason, and you bark out a harsh laugh.

“Maybe people need to stop making so many fucking assumptions, then? It certainly hasn’t gotten you anywhere,” you throw your hands up, damn sick of all the constant fucking surveillance you’re under. You can see why this version of you lost her mind. You’re near about to as well.

He stares at you for a moment longer, and you start feeling too uncomfortable. It’s a stupid and useless protectiveness that has you staying. Like he’ll somehow try and harm the shrine to your people. It’s happened before, Joker fanboys defacing it and such. This guy could be one of those bastards.

And yet… somehow you feel…

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he finally says.

“Good, you do that.”

“But in the end, nothing’s really changed. Joker’s still out and about, as you well know.”

You physically flinch like you’ve been slapped. For a good minute there, all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. You raise one shaking fist, and lift one trembling finger, pointing. The man looks in the direction you’ve pointed, and when he doesn’t see anything, turns back to you. His sunglasses reflect the grey afternoon sun.

“Go,” you order, voice shaking just like the rest of you.

He just keeps staring at you. You wish he’d take off those dumb fucking glasses, so you could see this asshole’s face. Etch it into your mind. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t take any action. He simply waits for you to… Well, you don’t know what you’ll do. You haven’t known what you’d do since you left Dick behind two hours ago.

“You need to go,” you say again, and again, he doesn’t fucking move, “You… there’s… you have no right.”

You can hear the buzz of the city around you, the wind rushing by. His clothes rustle in the wind. Your voice sounds too loud in your ears, but he won’t just… he won’t leave. You don’t want this stranger here, watching you. Judging you. It’s all…

“Jason didn’t do anything wrong,” you say, and you think to yourself, desperately, ‘I didn’t do anything wrong.’

There’s a slight shift in the stranger’s posture. His shoulders tensed.

You think you’ve offended him.

“The Joker… That’s nobody's fault but the government for not just sucking it up and giving him the death penalty, or Batman’s for not doing it himself a long time ago. They’re all fucking useless, but they’re the ones who are supposed to be dealing with this!” you continue, your words growing more heated. It’s only the already looming threat of an assault case that keeps you from shoving the guy. Not like you’d be able to move him an inch, of course, he was huge.

You’re sure it would feel good, though.

“It was never some random teenager's responsibility, and it wasn't mine either,” you say, but find yourself pausing for a moment when you hear the end of your sentence. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like it wasn’t obvious anyway.

You’d tied yourself and Jason up together in your head. To you, you were both two sides of the same coin. One foot in the grave. You’ve got one foot in the grave…

“Jason Todd was a good person, and he made the world a better place.”

You look down at the portrait of the boy, his toothy smile twisting at your heart. None of this was fair. None of this had ever been fair. Why was this guy acting like anybody here had ever been able to do anything about it? Like Jason should’ve been smarter, and avoided a fucking bomb blast?

It was stupid. This was stupid, and you were over it. You were tired.

“And I miss him.”

It’s quiet after you say that.

“I don’t know how you can think it’s fair to act like his death was pointless when… of course it was, all of this was pointless,” you say, throwing your hands wide and gesturing to the entire memorial. “This was a tragedy, but Jason was a victim. And I’m sick of people like you who think they can decide whether someone else’s life was lived right. It’s not your damn right.”

“Now… fuck off!” you announce, and to your shock, he does. He fucks right off. The man gives you one last lingering look, and then turns and leaves without another word. Not like you needed them.

You huff out a shocked breath, and then turn back to the memorial.

The framed faces of your loved ones stare back at you, and for all you know it’s stupid, you can’t help but feel embarrassed for the display. You know your mother would’ve scolded you for your language, at least.

“Sorry,” you say, and you’re unfortunately reminded of that irritating man again. Likely that won’t be the first time he pops up again in your head. He seemed well, insane. Which wasn’t that odd in Gotham but… god, you just couldn’t seem to let it go.

It pissed you off to high heaven. His rudeness was something you’d usually be able to shrug off, especially from some random stranger, but, but, but-! Argh, damn it all. And it wasn’t like that was the first time you had had that sort of conversation, but it was certainly the first time someone had been so bold as to bring it up in front of your dead mother’s smiling face.

Earlier today had snuffed out the fire in you, but that encounter had been the spark to reignite it. More than that, actually. It had made you so damn pissed, made your blood boil in a way you just couldn’t ignore, to the point that you wanted to prove him wrong.

Jason Todd had mattered and had made a difference and change in Gotham. He had made a change in you. You put your hands on your hips, stare down at the flowers, and make a decision.

You’re going to fix your goddamn life. For Jason Fucking Todd.

Your body feels like shit, your brain feels like it’s stuffed with cotton wool, and yet this is the greatest opportunity you’ve ever been given. You have a chance to save yourself, and save your friends, and fix all the tiny little problems in Gotham that you’ve suffered through since childhood. Surely just throwing enough money at all your problems would fix some of them.

You were rich. If you couldn’t fix your life with millions of dollars available, then you had no chance.

And yeah, you don’t know what you’re doing. You know you can’t really change what happened. Back then or even just a few days ago. But you hate that. You hate it so much. You hate how weak you are in the face of loss. How both then and now, there’s nothing you can really do. And maybe if just out of spite, towards that asshat, Batman, Joker and everyone else, you want to make a change.

You want to be able to do something about it. You want it, so fucking bad.

First order of business?

…You want more flowers.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[nkjemisin]

Hello NK Jemisin! I'm a huge fan of yours, and I wanted to thank you for writing all of the books you've written, and doing all that you do. You're really awesome and you are doing important work! :) I had a long question, if you have time to answer! What's your commentary on creating fantasy cultures, using real ones as inspiration? You've done this before in your stories, and I wanted to know if you had any guidance on doing it well. I'm writing my first novel right now (fantasy!) and am dealing with a surprising amount of guilt regarding using real cultures as a basis for my fake ones. On one hand, I want to create a really unique fantasy world, not the bog-standard European stuff. It's not only more interesting to me, but I also admittedly want to use my story to help introduce people to concepts that might be helpful in the real world, help readers understand what these real people go through and perhaps inspire change. On the OTHER hand, I don't know if it's 'my place' to do so (I'm Black btw, but I'm not just writing about Black-coded fantasy characters). And I'm worried about representing people in a harmful way, even if it's by accident. I'm even hung up about names! Should I use names from real languages related to the cultures I'm inspired by, or should I just make them up to emphasize that, while yes these people are clearly inspired by real cultures, they are ultimately *their own* thing. I'm really conflicted on this and am hoping you can offer some feedback and/or commentary. Sorry for the long ask. Either way, have a great day and I look forward to whatever work you do next!

If I can rephrase what you're saying here, it sounds like you're concerned about cultural appropriation -- specifically, which cultures you get to "borrow from" and "remix," how much remixing you can do before you've done damage, how to depict people from cultural backgrounds other than your own, etc.

If that's what you're asking, then there are whole schools of thought on how to "appropriate appropriately." A lot of thinking on this has evolved in the past few years, for good and for ill; Own Voices, for example. (The short version: the Own Voices hashtag movement started as a grassroots attempt to get marginalized voices telling the stories of their own cultures, because there's been a nasty trend of only white/Western/Anglophone/etc. authors publishing books about those cultures. The problem? Some publishers and readers started acting as if marginalized writers weren't allowed to do anything but stories in their own cultures -- a restriction, instead of an inclusion/correction. Worse, publishers, etc started using it as a marketing shorthand, in ways that were just... not good. They made it weird, basically.) But I'm still fond of the approach that's in Writing the Other, by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward. It's centered on ethnicity/race, but a lot of its approach can be extrapolated to culture. There's too much good stuff in this book to summarize it easily, but you should read it instead of a summary anyway -- it's short.

I don't see the point of guilt, when it comes to something like this. Guilt is what you feel when you've done something wrong, and admiring another culture enough to want to tell a story featuring it isn't wrong. However, there are things you need to do -- research, conversations, considerations of power dynamics -- to reduce the harm you might end up doing by telling that story as an outsider. And note that no matter what you do, though, you might still end up doing harm. (Even people writing about their own culture can end up doing that.) If you fuck up, apologize, figure out what went wrong, and try to do better next time. That's really all you can do.

And then write whatever the hell you want. There's a persistent pressure on Black writers to only cover certain subjects, certain settings; nah. We get to have range, too. You've just got to put in the work to do it well.

Good luck.

[arkus-rhapsode]

Refantazio and a lack of Romance

So I’m sure I’m not the only person to have joked that Metaphor Refantazio is fantasy persona. But as many have come to lament-unlike Persona you can’t hook up with anyone. Now according to director this was so that this more adult centric story could focus on deepening bonds based on their different lifestyles and communities rather than teenage romance.

Now there were (and are) plenty of memes about feeling robbed that you can’t marry the goth, elf, knight lady. But I think I’ve come to appreciate how this has allowed for Metaphor to avoid certain writing tropes Persona falls into. The obvious one is they don’t feel like they need to make every interaction with the protagonist and most if not all the female characters contrive some romantic or sexual tension. This more platonic approach allows the characters relationship to feel more than “hey you’re this cool guy” and “can we fake date for our support link?” It actually makes it stand out when they try to throw in some sexual tension like with Junah.

Another thing Is highlight is that Hoshino is right, the vibe of this story is more mature and adult. With a cast of mostly adults they deal with subjects that allow for character exploration in more emotionally and thematically complex way. Yet many of these characters approach their issues with a level of maturity that Persona is more about working a character up to that state of mind.

And yet they still manage to walk this line of maturity while keeping all the characters feeling human but able to care about one another in charming platonic ways. And it makes me happy knowing that this is the level of character writing we can get when there’s a more focused scope of maturing the characters without some type of player romantic gratification.

Now obviously I dont want Persona to lose that about their identity. I want it to still focus on teenagers working through their emotions. I want it to still have its tropey but charming romances in between all the high concept otherworldliness. I love my Japanese high schooler sim for what it is. I’m just saying that I’m glad that Metaphor is allowed to be what it is and not feel like Persona in fantasy cosplay. It’s offering unique experiences in ways that are different but familiar.

And besides-There’s always fanfiction and fanart.

[leahswife]

where do we stand

summary: you're tired of aitana's mixed signals and someone on the spanish team loves to get you all flustered. aitana is definitely not jealous.

spoiler alert: that someone is none other than jenni hermoso.

a/n: more like fulfilling two fantasies in one

prequel, part one, part two, part three

this national break had come in handy for you and lucy. england was set to play a few matches in spain, so you were able to sneak in a break between trainings to go see your club teammates and you managed to check in the same hotel as them for the time being. 

you were both getting antsy as the game was approaching its end and spain was in the lead by one goal. 

when the referee blows the final whistle, you exhale in relief and lucy stands up, cheering, quickly pulling you up to celebrate with her. 

it takes some time for the stadium to start clearing up, with both teams doing their laps around the pitch to thank the fans, but once it was empty enough you and lucy walked down to the field to congratulate your teammates.

you ran up to ona, the girl grabbing your waist so she could lift you up and down with excitement, "ayyy oni!!" you laughed at being manhandled, when you noticed aitana.

her smile was radiant as she was cheering with salma and mariona. you didn't know if you should approach her or not, your situation a bit complicated as of now. explaining it was no easy task either. 

you were shy around everyone when you first transferred to barça, although over time they managed to crack your walls and gain your trust. especially aitana, the girl getting closer and closer to you each day. you eventually became best friends, until one night aitana drunkenly confesses she wants to kiss you. so then, your friendship changes into a… situationship? the next day you talk about it, aitana doesn't know what she wants but doesn't want to lose you either. you go back to normal as if nothing happened. but something does happen. during movie night at mapi and ingrid's for team bonding, you and aitana are in the corner of the couch whispering to each other, in the dark, when the catalan tentatively kisses the corner of your mouth. when you drop her off at home later that same night, you kiss her. she brings you inside, which turns one kiss into multiple. what could be defined as innocent kisses in each other's houses eventually become not so innocent make out sessions behind closed closet doors at training. but you're not dating. aitana whispers into your secret kisses that she can't date, she doesn't have time, she needs to focus. so you wait, and wait, and wait. until she's pulling away again and national break comes and she barely messages you, apart from the friendly "good luck" message.

so now here you were, in close distance to her again. you were friends, right? so friends congratulate friends. that's what she wants, so that's what you'll give her.

you turn your attention back to ona and squeeze her shoulders, "best defender in the making! just you wait until you have to face our lessi russo." you tease her by patting her cheek. ona rolls her eyes with a smile, "voy a estar preparada, tonta. what did you think of the game?" she now asks both you and lucy, as the latter approached, having been talking to alexia. "ehh, más o menos." lucy answers, banter present in her voice. ona mocks her and you chuckle, leaving them to it as you walk over to aitana.

"nice goal, bonmatí." you lightly kicked her butt with your foot to get her attention. she turns to you and immediately launches herself into your arms with an infectious smile. it must have been the adrenaline of the win, you think, a bit surprised. nonetheless, you hold her in your arms. "i saw you in the stands." she affirms once she let go of the hug to look at you tenderly. "hm, i might have been your lucky charm then." you shrugged nonchalantly and whipped your hair over your shoulder. "sí, obvio." aitana went along with your joke, nodding with a fake serious expression. 

suddenly a body slammed into you both, one tattooed arm being wrapped around your shoulder and the other around aitana's. "entonces, chicas, vamos a celebrar la noche entera?" you look up to see jenni hermoso flashing you a dazzling grin.

you had met jenni a few times before, with her visiting alexia every now and then, but you were never brave enough to start a conversation with the tall woman. truth was, she was extremely intimidating to you, probably because she was also extremely hot. however, you had to admit that, as an opponent, she was in addition, extremely annoying. you'd had some interactions in the field whenever england had to play against spain and jenni knew exactly how you worked. it's like she would previously study your every move so she knew how to push your buttons. if you were trying to get the ball, she wouldn't leave your side, if you were getting ready to receive a corner kick with your teammates, she would stand behind you and place her hands on your waist, if she tackled you she would offer her hand with a smug smirk.

you were terrifically infuriated with how easily she could mess with your head on the field and outside the field after a game, often leaving a dm on your instagram saying she couldn't wait to play with you again, followed by a winky face emoji.

right now, her strong arm around you and the way she was grinning at you only managed to redden your cheeks as aitana took the lead in answering her question with a laugh, "pues claro!" jenni ruffled her hair in approval and turned to you, "can i count with you as well?" she asked with challenge in her eyes. "aren't you a bit old to be partying all night?" you challenged back, forcing yourself to keep a straight face and not smile with amusement. that only prompted her grin to grow even wider and her hand to relocate from your shoulder to the side of your neck, playing with your hair. your breath hitched and suddenly you weren't playful anymore, far too aware of jenni's touch and her gaze. "so you do have a mouth." jenni remarked, the stupid smirk never leaving her face. 

aitana caught notice of this flirty interaction between you two and felt something boil in her chest, an ugly feeling she couldn't quite tell what it was but didn't like at all.

–

the club was already full when you got in with lucy and ona later that night, music blaring and people filling the dance floor. you noticed aitana dancing with some of the girls, a little too close for your liking. but she didn't want you like you wanted her, that's what you needed to remind yourself of. therefore, you might as well find a way to have fun tonight without her. you three reached the tables where most of the girls were gathered to greet everyone. 

you swiftly made your way to the bar, ready to start your fun. you were waiting for the bartender when you felt a breath on your ear, "you know, standing behind you outside of a football field can be even more exhilarating than i thought." you recognized jenni's voice right away and a smile slowly formed on your face. this, whatever it was, could be part of your fun, right?

you turned around and ignored your instinct to take a step back out of surprise, given how close jenni was to you. your eyes naturally scanned her body before your brain could even scold you for it and force you to put on a nonchalant mask. they finally looked up at her face, blush already visible on yours. the always present and annoying smirk she had on when talking to you turned to the bartender to order you two a drink.

"you know, i always wondered when you were going to finally talk to me, princesa."

"why would it matter to you?"

she cocked her head to the side, eyeing you curiously.

"i like corrupting pretty innocent girls who look like they could rip my head off in the field but then avoid me like the plague." she bit her lip, trying to hold off an amused smile when you roll your eyes.

"why have you never done so before, then?"

"alexia doesn't let me get too close to her players – and it seems she's not the only one." she points her head towards aitana, who's been watching you two interact from the dance floor with a frown on her face. 

you turn back to the bar to grab your drink and begin gulping it down, trying to keep your mind off of the catalan that up to that point had you wrapped around her little finger. "maybe you just have a bad reputation." you bite on the piece of lemon it was given to you and lick the bitter taste off of your lips. you noticed that had caught jenni's attention and asked, now with a small smirk, "should i be wary of that?"

her eyes never left your face as her strong hand carefully moved up your neck to your jaw, pulling you closer. you could feel her breath on your lips when she goes "i want to do bad things to you but i think it's something you should test yourself." 

your heart starts beating faster, blood rushing to your cheeks and your thighs pressing together involuntarily. just one move and your lips would be touching hers.

all of a sudden, your body is jerked away abruptly from the bar and jenni by a hand grabbing your arm and leading you in the direction of the club's exit. you look up to see aitana and let yourself be dragged outside where you pull back your arm, making her face you. "what exactly do you think you're doing, aitana?!" the rush and amount of emotions you had felt in the span of a minute made you question her with annoyance in your voice.

"that's what i should ask you. que haces con jenni?" aitana looked at you incredulously, an angry scowl visible on her face. you had only seen her angry on the pitch, and even then those moments were rare. but now she was pissed at you? for what? that only aggravated you further.

"what do you mean 'what am i doing with jenni'? you and i are nothing. you made it clear yourself multiple times. you can't have me whenever you want me and expect me to wait when you don't feel like it anymore. so do not tell me who i should or should not hang out with."

"but it's not just hanging out, is it?" she puffs air out of her nose, the frown never leaving her face.

"do you actually care or are you just jealous someone other than you is getting my attention?" you bite back.

"i'm not jealous. i'm just curious." she mumbled, crossing her arms and looking away, doing everything now to avoid your furious gaze.

"oh, so you're just curious. that's why you dragged me away from her like that." you say, sarcasm on the tip of your tongue.

she finally looks at you with an exasperated sigh, "and i'm worried. of course i care about you! and i know jenni isn't looking for anything other than–" she cuts herself off for a moment, knowing what she would say next would make her sound like a hypocrite.

"well, then that makes two of you, doesn't it?" the anger in your voice subsides but your tone is still bitter. aitana furrows her eyebrows together, a sad frown taking shape in her face at your words.

"the difference, aitana, is that if you tell me, right here, right now, that you want something with me, that you're not going to rush into my arms one minute and act like nothing happened the next, i'll stay. i won't go back in there to jenni or anyone."

"i–" aitana stutters, you can see her eyes begging you not to go back but her voice can't say the same. "i--i'm sorry. tú sabes que no puedo hacerlo." she whispers, almost as if she's ashamed to say it. 

you nod, fighting back your tears. silence looms between you both before you finally answer back, "that settles it then." you clear your throat before your voice can betray you any further for showing so much vulnerability in that moment. you turn around and start walking away, picking up your phone to call an uber when you see a message.

"28A 3rd floor. i expect to see you there ;) - jenni"

you seriously couldn't understand how this woman was capable of exuding cockiness even through text.

–

you managed to stay in your hotel room for about 30 minutes before temptation and frustration got a hold of you and you marched your way to jenni's.

you take a deep breath and knock on the door.

immediately you can't resist the urge to roll your eyes when jenni opens the door with a smug smirk on her face, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame.

"took you long enough."

"shut up." you pushed at her chest and made your way inside.

[kanmom51]

Hi! I love reading your posts so much so I would like to know your thoughts on this:

https://x.com/smol_kia/status/1550222383075586048?t=1QUT02cleCrXVULBEegSjw&s=19

I saw some of us on X thanking this person for manifesting the toothbrushing scene which was funny but at the same time i am super confused on how jikook really did exactly the same as the fan art (the plaid pyjamas especially)! Do you think this was purely coincidence or one of them saw it and went 'let's make this to reality'?

English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if my ask is all over the place :) love ya!

Let's start with the end here why don't we?

JM and JK are the real thing. They have a real actual relationship unlike the dreamt up needing to lean on made up fanart relationship that Tkks delude themselves JK and Tae have.

That is the starting point.

Jikook are the real deal. A real life long term loving couple. TKK are not. Not a couple. Friends yes. At times closer at times not so much, but always and only friends.

So, let's talk about that fanart. It's from 2022. 22 July 22 to be accurate. I am literally feeling sick to my stomach at the moment, but I will share the photo, cause I'm going to be making a point here.

*At least they kept the JM in place (although they probably are deluded as to it's meaning...).

So, why is the date so important, you may ask.

Because that is the day ITS Friendcation came out.

And guess what we got in that first episode of the show.

Only the four friendliest of friends in their matchy plaid pj's.

Basically what we had was TKK's in their hazed daydreams wishing that instead of Tae sleeping together with his squad, to which a one Jeon Jungkook does not belong no matter how much they want to twist it (same crew that left JK at the ski resort by himself while leaving together), instead of Tae waking up with Wooga and their match plaid pj's and brushing teeth together, it would be JK there with him.

Like I say, dream on.

That fanart of theirs, is a dream not a reality, and they can scream until they are blue in the face, it won't change the fact that the one brushing his teeth with JK at the moment is JM, not Tae, by choice. JK choice. JM's choice. They both wanted it. They both planned it. They both worked towards it. And they are both living it right now.

I find it kind of funny how TKKs keep on screaming that JM and JK's travels are for the camera, not genuine, all for the buck. If that was true, if Jikook were indeed the 'fanservice' couple for BH, if Jikook were a money maker as a unit for the company, how is it that this cash machine has never been properly utilized. It always amuses me to hear this from them all while most of Jikook's interactions are off camera, not for us to intentionally see. This one unit that has never come to fruition officially (until now, and there is a reason for that and a reason why we are getting more now, none of which are them being 'faked' for the camera in order to make money).

I love how they twist everything to fit a constant changing narrative. I actually don't know how they keep up with themselves. It would be so exhausting.

I saw Mina's tweets. Will not share them here. I will not give that hateful ***** a platform here. All I will say is that it must be so very hard for her right now. Reality is hitting and it's hitting hard. I guess it's a last hurrah, an attempt to cling to their fantasy. Basically acting like a belligerent child having a tantrum.

If I didn't loath her and her kind I would actually pity them. They are going to be so very miserable in the upcoming months. Not to mention after they are all back from the military.

I guess these weirdos need to be reminded that JM and JK's Tokyo trip back in 2017 was not for the cameras. A trip eternalized with JK's GCFT, a trip they could not stop talking about, a trip they continued to talk about in their book under the title Real love.

I won't remind them of just how fondly JK was talking about their trip and the show, nor will I bring up that shining sun of a smile he had when JM says he'll hug him later, cause you know, these are basically fans that have no interest in what the idol they supposedly love (yeah, no love there) says or feels. It's about what they, as fans, want to feel dreaming about buff JK the fuckboy, bad boy, man handler and his dainty weak boyfriend Tae (with their love hate toxic jealousy drama filled relationship).

Excuse me for a sec...

I also guess they need to be reminded that not all of JM and JK's time together was filmed, not all of it was for the cameras, as they love to put it. Not in NY, and definitley not in Tokyo 2023. Funny how two people that were working on enlisting together and got to fulfill their wishes and make sure that the 18 months of their military service they are inseparable, even if that means a tougher placement than if they enlisted separately, still wanted to go on these trips together. I think that by now any claim that this was forced on them - the trips, the show, the enlistment - have been long disproved.

And for a couple that the company are 'trying to push on us' it's really funny how silent they have been since their enlistment. But yeah, these people will continue to say what they want because otherwise their dreams are dead. Kind of like Larry's that still think those two are a thing.

You know what else that fanart comes after, btw?

Not only the ITS friendcation, but also after this:

JK directing LGO MV choosing the couples pj's, choosing to have JM walk out of the bathroom brushing his teeth JK waiting for him in the bedroom.

Fanart is art (not that some of the fanart out there would be considered art by myself, but you know, that's a personal taste, or distaste, and that btw includes some Jikook fanart as well). It can replicate or express reality but it can also be an outright fantasy.

In this case it's TKKs seeing the reality (Wooga and Jikook) and expressing fantasy (their ideas or wishes applied onto TKK), lol.

And now we have JM and JK on their trip wearing these couples pj's.

What a blow that must have been for TKKs. And this whole scrambling thing they are doing, that this is "the company" copying their fanart. Absolutely hilarious.

Jikook have shown us over the years that they love plaid. Not gonna add pics here cause there is no end to them. JK, JM alone, together, plaid is something they have been doing. Specifically? Not necessarily. But it's something they wear.

Jikook themselves have worn plaid pj's in the past for LGO MV (and the live as well - do I remind you guys of JK's joke about why he decided to have JM brushing his teeth?). Director JK. Their choice.

The fanart TKKs are squealing about was not an original piece of art that a TKKer came up with. They literally copied the pajamas worn by the Woogas in ITS Friendcation inserting JK into their fantasy.

If people would watch original content they would know that Jikook, both of them, tend not to wear pj's at home. Not around the house and not in bed. We saw JM in ITS 2. We saw JK in his bed live (in which I would love to remind TKKs how flirty and naughty he was with JM all while being half naked in bed, nagging JM to do a live with him, all his choice, all knowing that the company will not be happy with him, lol - still waiting for that Jikook live, you know from the company's "for the cameras" couple). Oh, and we also have the LV live. Yeah, that was an interesting one. Seeing that not only did we hear from JM and Hobi that JM walks around in his undies at home but that JK is in charge of the soundtrack... I guess while he's in his undies as well...(JM's reaction to Hobi's slip up was priceless). Point being that those two don't do clothes for sleep. But clearly they couldn't go 'au natural' for the show, so they chose to wear pj's.

And just like the other clothes that they chose to wear throughout their travels, that we will get to see in the show, they chose to wear these pj's.

Couple pj's.

This is not a photo shoot. This is them coming from home with their own clothes wearing what they want to wear, what they feel comfortable in. And they chose to wear those pj's knowing EXACTLY how it will be perceived.

And just like Wooga chose to wear the plaid pj's, which btw were all identical, like the rings they wear, probably as a symbol of their friendship, all while NO ONE ever dared to claim that they were dressed by stylists or forced into wearing them or that the creators of the show even suggested the idea to them, JM and JK chose to wear these pj's that are not identical but seem to be perceived as couple's pj's.

Pajamas sold out of course, the company's caption at the bottom being: "How about watching the show together in couple pajamas?"

Their choice.

Their decision.

Filming themselves brushing their teeth - their decision.

I want to make something clear here. They have said it and I will repeat it. This is not a scripted show. This is them travelling, experiencing, enjoying themselves (you cannot fake those smiles and giggles), filming themselves. That angle, the camera in the bathroom, that is a camera they placed there, they wanted us to see this just like JK wanted to show us JM brushing his teeth and coming out to him in the bedroom.

Do I remind you what happened when a camera was placed in a room when they didn't want us to see what they were up to?

This is not 2018 anymore. This is 2024 (well, filmed end of 2023, and may I just note that after the new contracts were signed, and I do think this is highly relevant as to what we are going to be getting in this show, what we will be allowed to see, the level of candor). No more hidden cameras in rooms (I think the company had realized that was a dangerous game they were playing at), and their artists control over what will be filmed and what not.

Their choices, their decisions, not some company executive. Them. The two of them.

I will end this by saying that I doubt that Jikook are even aware of this TKK fanart.

But if they were, then this wouldn't be them copying the fanart trying to create the illusion they are a couple.

No need for an illusion when you ARE the real deal.

If, by any chance, they were aware of the fanart then I would say that any connection to it would be them saying a big FUCK YOU to TKKs and their delusions.

But yeah, I do doubt they were even aware of this pic.

JK's search logarithm is Jimin based. Not TKK. So keep dreaming TKKs, cause not only are TKK not the thing you so very much want them to be, the thought of that thing, them as a couple, you as a fan group, your art and fantasies, all those aren't even a blip on JM and JK's radars.

[jmdbjk]

Traveling is my thing too...

I'm still marinating in my Are You Sure?! afterglow. I just loved every part of it, every minute of the episodes and behinds. There is one thing that's been on my mind and I know it might ruffle some people because of how it sounds at first.

Jimin and Jungkook spontaneously created "scenes" for Are You Sure?!. Prompted each other for the sake of making content. Another facet of being good entertainers...

They were trying to be content creators and not rely on others to tell them what to say or do. The total opposite of "scripted" which, of course, means the shows were unscripted and made up as the days' activities unfolded.

They both actively initiated moments they could play off each other. This is part of that now-becoming-over-used word we say to describe their dynamic... chemistry.

Was it fake? No. The moments they created were genuine interactions whether it was an inside joke of theirs or just talking about topics like cosmic horror or origins of slang words. Not any different than how we behave with our own close friends and significant others. We initiate conversation topics, we poke at each other, we talk about stupid shit, we sometimes have heartfelt and meaningful conversations.

In other words, we are authentic with our closest people. That's what humans do. And as we also are so comfortable with our friends and significant others, we can also have quiet time just being in the presence of the other. IT'S ALL NORMAL AND NOT FAKE.

Was it fan service? No. Again, they were being content creators, trying to create something that was purely them, purely normal interactions only they could have with each other.

Do they have off moments? Of course they do. When one or the other was not active in the interaction, the other was just being themselves, no faking, no fan service, just Jimin and Jungkook behaving as themselves, the only way they know to behave, in the presence of the other, nothing negative about it, just "being."

But they were on a mission to create content that they knew Army would enjoy while they were away. With a big smile, Jungkook said we'll really enjoy it. He said this before he got in that Jeep and drove away to Connecticut. He already knew before it started that he and Jimin were going to have fun. They trust us, their fans, to enjoy the things they give us. Those who do not enjoy it are not their fans.

I've seen people say they only watched a few clips and not the entire series of AYS and then conclude "its obvious (insert fave name) feels this or that." No Boo, you can't deduce those things from a 5 second slo-mo clip or a screen cap from a split second moment from an 8 episode series (9 hours of interactions between the members). What IS obvious is these people don't want to know the truth.

If you don't watch original content in its entirety, how could you possibly "know" your fave/bias? Especially this particular series. If you are a fan of Jimin, Jungkook or even Taehyung, if you did not watch the entire episodes, your opinion is meaningless. If you based your opinions on select snippets or screenshots with no context, your opinion is meaningless because you don't have the entire story. You have every right to say you don't like it and won't watch it because it doesn't align with your (false) idea of who Jimin, Jungkook and even Tae are. But in doing that, you should also remind yourself you are clinging to your own fantasies of who they are.

If you had access and were able to watch all of the episodes on Disney+, many thanks for helping to make this project of Jungkook and Jimin's a resounding success. Ranked #5 worldwide for 2024 TV shows on Disney+. This chart is sorted by popularity:

In his last live the day before enlisting, Jimin told us he was sick with the flu for a week after returning from Sapporo and only had another week before their enlistment. Maybe he was starting to feel the symptoms on that last day in Sapporo and it contributed to feeling so down.

The behind footage for Sapporo shows at some point the cameras were turned off in the car when they were driving to the airport to return to Korea.

It would have been easy for the show's producers to just edit the footage and write captions that totally ignore the fact the cameras were ever turned off at all. We would have never known. Them including that information helps us put everything in context. Jungkook and Jimin purposely turned the cameras off and they purposely informed us of that so we could understand that there was a lot of time without any recording whatsoever. Maybe they talked about stuff they didn't want recorded. Maybe Jimin took a nap because he wasn't feeling good. No matter, most would call that PRIVATE TIME. They had an abundance of PRIVATE TIME during ALL of these trips.

I feel strongly they will do a few more trips. They loved this so much, and they have a foundation to build on, they will do more.

And now, its been a few weeks after the last episode and we've got the behind scenes. It still sort of feels like a dream that these two produced this project for us. Yet it only made sense didn't it? Who else out of the 7 would do something like this? It's genius level thinking to create this, doing something they both have said they love doing, doing it with each other, the people they connect with the best, and giving us something at the same time. Brilliant.

And I want to say thank you to Jimin and Jungkook. Personally, this was the best of the best.

It is truly the work of the Universe that they have each other, to support each other during this period of time. In recent pics I've seen, they look well. I miss them so much.

And now we're just over 8 months away from having them back. Eight months and 15 days before all 7 are discharged and we look forward to the first group live and an ocean of tears of relief pouring from all over the world for them. 10 days until our Hobi is back. I'm so excited!

My Are You Sure?! photobook arrived the other day, I wasn't expecting it so suddenly because Weverse Shop still had it marked as "shipping soon" and then all of a sudden it was here. YAY!

I am going to scan a lot of it but the big postcard sized photos that were part of the early pre-order gifts are on my refrigerator. I also ordered the Are You Sure?! magnets but those won't be here until December. As you can see, I'm a collector of fridge magnets when I travel so it was a no-brainer to get the Are You Sure magnets.

Also, shout out to anyone in North Carolina trying to recover from Hurricane Helene. The Nantahala area was one of my most favorite vacations. I hope to go back someday. I know it's hard to rebuild, I've experienced the aftermath of too many hurricanes. Take it one day at a time and never lose hope. Normal will come back again.

[fuzzythoughtsblog]

A fantasy I had based on a fan fiction I read :

I begin to wake up. I feel groggy as push myself from my bed. Except I couldn't for some reason and then I look up and my hands are cuffed to my bed. Except it's not my bed it's someone else, I quickly look around the room for some kinda indication of where I am. Theirs nothing thats familiar. The room is pained a light purple with fluffy fixtures everywhere and nice tv but no windows, only a fake projection of one. As I look around I recognize some stuff bits of my things placed neatly around the room. When I shift around I start to hear foot steps. I try to wiggle out of the cuffs before the door opens but its no use. A woman walks through the door with a soft smile on her face.

"Hello, love. Did you sleep well? I made sure to have everything how you like it down to rain sounds. "

I pause and realize there is a sound machine playing rain sounds just like the one I have at home.

The lady continues " I hope the cuffs weren't to tight, once we get you your ankle bracelet we won't have to fiddle with those things. "

I stare at her for a moment before asking where I was and how I got here. Some how very calm about the matter.

"Oh that's right you wouldn't remember. Well this is your home, not just this room of course you're free to explore the whole house once your ankle bracelet comes in. For now you stay here; but don't worry I'll keep you company. As for how you got here well you were at your old home and I put something in your glass of water to make you extra sleepy. Sorry it was just a formality and I won't do it again. "

As she talked the panic began to set in. I ask her why she did this.

With a smile she begins to play with my hair. "I love you, for a long time now. I know you don't remember but I used to see you after middle school walking to your house. I think the first time I saw you I knew this was it. As the years went by you confirmed to me that this is it. Watching your highs and lows have been truly beautiful. I knew I must have you in my life but, I don't want to share you anymore. You know you sleep beautifully, I mean I've seen it before but this is my first time seeing you sleep up close and personal. What were you dreaming about? "

I can't even take it all in, this lady I've never seen before is making all these claims and I'm strapped to her bed. I then look down to see I'm in pink lace lingerie. I freeze and she notices.

"Oh yes, I thought you'd look lovely in these and you do honestly. " she says as she drags a hand up my body.

"Your just so pretty. " she says as she leans in and begins to kiss my neck. At this I snap at her to stop and to uncuff me. She sighs and begins to nibble on my skin.

"Bear with me love, I must learn your body. " I shake my head as she shows no signs of stopping. I tell her someone is looking for me. "And may they never find our home" she breathes into my skin like hymn. She then moves on from my neck to my shoulders leaving long kisses on them. She then begins to trace my collar bone with her finger ever so gently. Upon tracing it she moves here mouth to the top of my chest. In to my skin she whispers "Allow me to take my time little dove, I want to savior this for both of us".

I try to pull away as she sucks dark marks into my skin ending the ministration with a small kiss. For a moment she leans off of me to admire her work. She let's out a moan as she looks. " Your breath taking. I've had only a little and I crave more. " I begin to lightly sob as she takes a nipple in her mouth sucking it through the lace. It feels disgustingly good. Everything in me is screaming to reject the pleasure, but my body won't listen. I let out a soft moan causing her to stop and look up at me.

"Little dove. " she says as she begins to kiss me on the mouth despite me backing away from it. She continues until a headbutt her mid kiss. She grips her head, but it seems my resistance only spures her on more. As she cups my face with her hands this time and she takes another kiss. And then she goes back to nipples this time nibbling at the other. She then looks up at me as she sucks the already sensitive bud. I accidentally let out a whine as it's just too sensitive.

Which sends a shiver down her spine. She lowers her head to my stomach before continuing to kiss it and litter the skin with little marks. She then traces the more sensitive skin with her tongue. As she goes lower I feel something hot grow in the pit my stomach. Especially as she gets to where my pelvis and my stomach meet. Nibbling on the line between the two. Unexpectedly she then moves over to the top part of my thighs. The bit of pudge that peeks over the lace stocking. Before going on she looks up at me again.

"Your delicious my love, I don't know how I have claimed to live before I tasted your skin. " after she sinks her teeth in to the pudge a action that causes me to yelp as its unlike every thing she did before. Of course she watches me as she does the same thing to the other side. As she released the meat from her teeth she then uses them to bite the edge of stocking before pulling them down and off. She does the same to the other side before returning to the first and laying a kiss on the knee she then bites around on the lower part of my thigh take her time to leave more dark marks. She ends it by laying several light kisses on my ankle. Before for repeating the same action on the other leg as she presses the last kiss into my ankle she breathes a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry dove, I don't mean to be a tease I've just been dreaming of this for so long. Longer than you could know. " she says placing her head near my crotch as I shift away. She simply holds my hips before placing a kiss on my clothed pussy. She then begins to suck and lick through the panties. All while starring at me watching every quiver and gasp. She begins to pay attention more to my clit as I whine and with shaking hands she removes the panties and just stares at my cunt for a minute or two. I hear her moans the words "fucking gorgeous".

Before ducking back down and tasting me from the source. I feel as she moans against me and grinds into my legs as she takes my clit into her mouth causing me to shake and shrink away. "Don't, run away from me baby. Hear me, never again. " she says eyes very serious. She then leans in and starts slowly pressing her tongue into me. Rubbing my clit as she does. She then holds my thighs as she goes deeper, fucking me on her tongue. She eats me out with focus and dedication for what feels like hours before pressing a finger in along with her tongue. The two move in sync as she loosen me before adding another finger and after time another. Until I'm crying on 3 of her fingers and a tongue.

She then pulls out and grabs something from the night stand. I look as she pulls down her pants to reveal a throbbing cock. She then squirts some lube onto it and my cunt before pumping it in her hand. There is absolutely no way she wants me to take all that. But as I look in disbelief she lines her cock up with my cunt but before she presses in. I say wait what about protection. She looks up at me with a soft smile "It's okay, I'm the only one that's going to be taking you for now on so we don't have to worry about that. "but before I can exclaim that it's not okay she sinks in.

With a breathy "Fuck" and fuck is right her cock is thick and just keeps going as she sinks into me as I whine and squirm. It takes a minute before our pelvises kiss but as they do she let's out long and loud whine. And I just stare at her, she fucking came inside of me, she came inside of me with no protection. What if I ... I begin to really sob as that thought crossed my mind. She on the other hand is still with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry love, it's just been so long. But don't worry I can keep going. " she says before sliding out and slamming back in. Causing my head to fall back. "See, I can give you pleasure too." She says voice still breathy as she pounds into me. The room begins to fill with the filthy noise and whines. I want to run away but theres nowhere to go. I just have to lye their and take it as she fucks her cum back into me with haste. She continues to thrust as she sucks more marks onto my neck and under my jaw. Then the worst begins as I feel my body try to tense up. Absolutely not, I tell myself but she seems to notice as she begins fucking speeding up and rubbing my clit. "Good ahead cum for me love, make a pretty mess of yourself. " I shake my head in refusal. This is not about to happen I'm not going to cum on her cock I refuse.

"Baby please stop being so stubborn, just do it it'll feel so good. " I keep starving it off despite her words until she wraps her mouth around my clit while still pounding . Sending me tumbling over the edge hard without out any way to catch myself. I close my eyes hard and begin to shake. It feels like an eternity and when I finally am able to open my eyes I hear a low ringing and my body is still tingling as she is still fucking me through it before cuming again even deeper this time. I feel tears continue to roll down my cheeks as she pulls out and her cum drips down my legs. As I stare at the ceiling completely stund I hear her whisper

"Welcome home, little dove! "

[cipheramnesia]

Part 2: The Lonely Extermination of Athena Six

Awhile after Dr. Stevenson left, and after Dr. White's visits were rarely more often than once or twice in a month, Athena began to notice the iron cage. It grew very slowly between the earth and the sky, deep shadow bars tinting narrow strips of the world. The first ones she saw were in the sky, on a day where she could feel the sun inside her room. She felt the slim bands connect to each other overhead.

The small transistor radio at the nurse station had a square of dark bands around it. Dark lines grew from light fixtures and intercom speakers. While she sat with an orderly doing a geometry workbook that Dr. White was supposed to supervise, Athena noticed dark lines on the overhead fluorescent lights. The orderly said it was okay for her to go back to her room and read, so she sat at her desk to re-read a set of old fantasy novels. They were about a prince who was always beset by tragedy and sickness. Now matter how much good he tried to accomplish, he always hurt someone important. In some of the stories he traveled to other versions of his story and met happier versions of himself, or sometimes sadder versions, but mostly happier. Athena thought there were probably happier versions of herself somewhere.

The dark bands grew and crossed and multiplied. The more of the bands she could see, the harder it became for her to find the dancing light. She wasn't supposed to make the light dance anymore since Dr. Stevenson's accident, and the times the orderlies caught her, they stuck a needle in her and she fell asleep right away. That was also okay, but the lights made her happy, so she played with tiny sparks against her wall, too tiny for the camera in her room to see. Except with the dark bands the lights were harder to coax put and she was usually exhausted after trying.

Eventually the grid of darkness covered the sky in its iron cage. She only sometimes saw little dark smears from the radio or people's eyes sometimes. No one else noticed the grid, but she could tell because her thread was less bright and the omnipresent iron bars were visible through the walls and ceiling. She wished she could take them down and so she practiced more and more to control her lights. They were still waiting for her, only a little more out of reach, but she got stronger and reached further every day.

A little while after the grid was in place, Dr. White visited her. He was always very nice, but Athena noticed he didn't listen very much to what she talked about. He seemed to care more about if the orderlies and nurses liked him, but she could tell they didn't anyway. He opened up a box and laid two flat rectangles of woven metal on the table, then pulled his hands away quickly. Athena noticed he always did that.

"Athena, for the next few weeks we're going to try some new games and I think you'll like them very much." He gestured at the smaller, darker screen. "Closers call this a spark buffer, do you know about them?" He kept his arms close to his body, she shook her head for no. "It's okay, not a lot of people do." He gestured at the larger screen, with shiny metal weaving, and some kind of stone under it. "This is possibly a new prototype, and I hope you can help me make sure it works right."

Athena looked blank. "I don't know how... how it works."

"Don't worry," he laughed the fake laugh a little. "All I need is for you to make the dancing lights, and make them touch the buffer."

"The cage makes it hard," she said. "Can we go somewhere out of the cage?"

"Cage? What... I'm not sure what you mean."

Athena just shook her head and Dr. White slotted the new buffer into a small box. He stood up and took several steps back, suggesting Athena begin, so she did.

It was harder than ever before but eventually a flicker of light danced in her palm for an instant. Then there came a spark out of the buffer like a mosquitos into a bug zapper, and her light blinked out. She jerked back her hands as well, feeling a sharp stab of pain at her fingertips.

Dr. White wrote notes and she sucked her fingertips because they hurt. He said "Okay, let's repeat it and then try the other one."

Athena wished Dr. White would go away again.

[darlingofdots]

What is a romance novel, really?

So far, the response to this post has mostly shown me that a lot of people don't actually know what a romance novel is, and that's okay! I don't expect everyone to know! However, for my own peace of mind, I am going to do my best to explain what we mean when we talk about romance novels, where the genre comes from, and why you should not dismiss the pastel cartoon covers that are taking over the display tables at your nearest chain bookshop. Two disclaimers up front: I've been reading romance novels since I was a teenager, and have dedicated the majority of my academic career to them. I'm currently working on my PhD and have presented/published several papers about the genre; I know what I'm talking about! Secondly, all genres are fake. They're made up. But we use these terms and definitions in order to describe what we see and that's a very important part of science, including literary studies!

The most widely used definition of "romance novel" to this day is from Pamela Regis' 2003 A Natural History of the Romance Novel, in which she states that "A romance novel is a work of prose fiction that tells the story of the courtship and betrothal of one or more [protagonists]."* People also refer to the Romance Writers of America's "a central love story and an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending" and another term you will see a lot is "Happily Ever After/Happy For Now," which posits that the protagonists must be in a committed and happy relationship at the end of the novel in order to count as a romance novel. That's it. That's what a romance novel is.

Of course it's a bit more complex than that; Regis also posited the Eight Essential Elements which describe the progression of the love plot over the course of the book, and there's a similar breakdown from Gwen Hayes in Romancing the Beat that is intended more as writing advice, but both of these are really useful for breaking down how this narrative structure works. My personal favourite part of the Eight Elements is that the romance opens with a definition of the society in which the protagonists exist, which is flawed in a way that oppresses them, and then the protagonists either overcome or fix it in a way that enables them to achieve their HEA. A lot of social commentary can happen this way!

It can also be a bit difficult to pin down what exactly counts as a "central love story" because who decides? A lot of stories have romance arcs in them, including dudebro action movies and noir mystery novels, but you would never argue that the romance is the central plot. A lot of romance novels have external plots like solving a mystery or saving the bakery. A useful question to ask in this case is whether the external plot exists for its own sake or to facilitate the romance: when Lydia runs off with Wickham in Pride & Prejudice, it's so that Lizzie can find out how much Darcy contributed to saving her family from scandal and realise her own feelings for him. The alien abduction in Ice Planet Barbarians happens specifically so the abducted human women can meet and fall in love with the hunky aliens. There are definitely grey areas here! Romance scholars argue about this all the time!

I have a suspicion that a lot of people who responded to the post I linked above are not actually romance readers, which is fine, but it really shows the lack of understanding of what a romance novel is. I have a secondary suspicion that the way we have been talking about books has contributed to this miscategorisation in a lot of people's minds, because especially with queer books we will often specifically point out that this fantasy book is f/f! This dystopian novel has a gay love story! This puts an emphasis on the romance elements that are present in a book when a lot of the time, the romance arc is just flavouring for the adventure/uprising/heist and we are pointing it out only because its queerness makes it stand out against other non-queer titles. It makes sense why we do this, but there is SUCH a difference between "a sci-fi book with an f/f romance arc" and "an f/f sci-fi romance." I could talk for hours about how the romance genre has evolved alongside and often in the same way as fanfiction and how there are codes and tropes that come up again and again that are immediately recognisable to romance readers, even down to phrases and cover design, and how romance is an incredibly versatile and diverse genre that functions in a very specific way because of that evolutionary process. The same way that dedicated fantasy readers can trace the genealogy of a given text's influences ("this writer definitely plays a lot of DnD which has its roots in the popularity of Tolkien, but they're deliberately subverting these tropes to critique the gender essentialism"), romance readers are often very aware of the building blocks and components of their books. These building blocks (that's what tropes are, lego pieces you put together to create a story!) often show up in other genres as well, especially as part of romantic arcs, but that doesn't make every book that features Only One Bed a romance novel, you know?

Romance is an incredibly versatile and diverse genre and I really highly recommend exploring it for yourself if you haven't. I personally read mostly Regency/Victorian historicals and I've been branching out into specifically f/f contemporaries, and there are so many authors who are using the romance framework to tell beautiful, hard-hitting stories about love and family while grappling with issues of discrimination, disability, mental health, capitalism, you name it. The genre has a very specific image in a lot of people's minds which makes them resistant to it and it's not entirely unjustified, but there is so much more to it than Bridgerton and repackaged Star Wars fanfiction!**

*the original text said "heroines" but Regis later revised this. There is a very good reason for the focus on the heroine in the first couple waves of romance scholarship, but that's a different post!

**neither of these are a bad thing and part of that genealogy that I mentioned earlier.

[scarletwritesshit]

⭐Boothill x F!Reader ⭐ Silver Stars

You kept looking up at Penacony’s sky. You knew that none of this was real, and that your physical body was safely resting in the Reveire back in reality, but that didn’t make the experience feel any more fake.

Boothill noticed you frequently looking up at the sky. On occasion, he would have to drag you out of the way of others or nudge you away from accidentally walking directly into a lamp post. He didn’t mind it, but his kindness did not come without a few "muddle fudgers.” You couldn’t help it. Penacony’s sky was simply too marvelous for you to ignore.

"Lass, ya better watch where you’re goin’, otherwise, one of these days you’re gonna trip and fall," Boothill said. "Don’t want ya bustin’ up your pretty face."

"Oh, sorry," you said, "It’s quite difficult to simply glaze by such a view.”

"Well if ya wanted to go stargazin’, why didn’t ya tell me so? Ain’t that a lot easier than wanderin’ around like some dumb dog?"

"I guess, but where are we going to find anywhere in Penacony to stargaze in solitude?"

Boothill thought for a moment. "I mean there’s them back-alley routes that eventually lead up to some pretty quiet and wide open spots. Ain’t gonna find no one up there seein’ how everyone else is too busy indulging in their own little fantasy lands."

"Do you even know where any of these spots are?"

"That’s what a GPS is for, hun. Not like any of them are very difficult to find in the first place, just gotta do a little walkin’."

Boothill grabbed you by the arm and started dragging you down a back-alley path. He had quite the tight grip, perhaps out of negligence for how strong his artificial body was. Your feet were practically smoking from the friction as he dragged you along. Eventually, you gave up trying to keep up with his pace and allowed yourself to skid along, until he stopped at a rather high spot overlooking the dreamy metropolis of the Golden Hour.

"Told ya I knew what I was doin’," he said, with a wink.

"Next time, could you be just a little bit gentler? My shoes were practically sparking a fire back there," you said.

"Shoulda told me something, lass. Could’ve picked ya up and thrown ya over my shoulder."

"Is it too late to take you up on that offer?"

"For now, yeah, ‘cuz we’re already here. But it ain’t off the table for later. For now, take a seat, lass."

Boothill sat down on the concrete, and invited you to sit next to him by patting the ground. You sat down next to him and looked up, admiring the grand view of Penacony’s stars blanketing above your head and beyond what can be seen past the guardrail. You looked all around, even leaning backwards to take in as much as the starry sky as you possibly could. Boothill wrapped his arm around your lower back to steady you so that you did not collapse onto the concrete.

"Wouldn’t it be easier if ya laid your bum down on my lap?" Boothill suggested. "If ya can deal with my cold metal thighs, it’ll be a heck of a lot easier to look at them stars than twisting ya spine all over the dang place."

Accepting Boothill’s offer, you laid down on his thighs, positioning your head so that you could rest between them comfortably. They were rather firm and solid, but the fabric of his pants cushioned them a little. Boothill was right about the stars being far more easily viewed from laying down. The only thing that really got in your way were the tuffs of his hair visible out of the corner of your eyes, but it was a minor inconvenience that you truthfully didn’t mind. He reached down to gently stroke the side of your face, but stopped himself.

"Sorry if I ain’t that comfortable," he said.

"No, its fine. I quite like it here," you said, grabbing his hand and gently placing it onto your cheek.

The metal of Boothill's fingers were quite cold from Penacony’s everlasting nighttime air. Curiously enough, it had the strangest sense of human warmth to it.

"You don’t gotta to pretend for me, partner. I know it ain’t the same as the feeling of another human."

"But this feeling is from you. Not just any person, flesh and blood or otherwise. That’s more important.”

"This hunk 'o crud ain’t anything like the me I once was. It’s turned me into a sad excuse of a person if I’ve ever seen one."

"I don’t mind. Really"

"Well I do," he said, gently running his finger alongside your cheek, "all I got to offer as a sad excuse of comfort is a heaping pile of metal."

"I get the feeling you don’t particularly enjoy being a cyborg."

"What gave that away? It’s gotta be up there with one of the worst things that had ever happened to me. Shame that not even the sweetest dreams can grant me a sense of normalcy."

"...Boothill, if a shooting star could grant a wish, would you wish for your human body back?"

Boothill went silent for a moment, and sighed. "No. I couldn’t There’s somethin’ far more valuable than my own humanity that I wish I could bring back."

"...You’re talking about her, aren’t you?"

"Right on target, partner. Even if I could bring ‘er back, I ain’t got a father's body to provide any warmth with. It’s cruel to do a little lady so dirty like that."

"She would think you’re the coolest, honestly."

"Maybe. Still can’t help but feel like I ain’t really there for ‘er with this lump of snot for a body. Probably a father’s guilt speakin’."

Boothill speaking more softly about himself for once put your body at ease, in addition to being rested comfortably in his lap. If it were possible in this dream, you felt as if you could drift off to sleep.

"Cyborg or not, you’ll always be Boothill to me," you said.

"Thank ya kindly, lass. Your words mean a whole lot to a little ol’ bucket of scrap like me. And I do apologize for dullin’ ya mood. Ya did say you wanted to stargaze, not listen to a rusty lad yap for Aeons know how long."

"No worries. I find this kind of talk kinda soothing."

"I can tell. Ya look like you’re gonna doze off on me."

"If it were feasible in a dream, then I would."

Boothill had become comfortable enough to entrust such a deeply hidden repressed feeling to you. In turn, you too felt much more at ease in his presence, knowing he was comfortable enough for such a thing. Beneath the stars, it was as if Penacony's sky was soothing the troubles of both of your golden hearts.

Your eyes began to feel heavy.

"I ain’t gonna bug ya if ya want a lil’ bit of shut-eye," Boothill said. "Stars are meant for sleepin’ under, after all."

He gently began to run his fingers through your hair, feeling as much as his cold metallic fingers would allow him to.

No use fighting back perhaps one of the first peaceful nights you two have shared in a while.

You closed your eyes.

[kindestegg]

Putting together a timeline for the Collector's backstory

Hi!! For the Future just happened!! It was insane!! Anyway as a Collector superfan, fantasy worldbuilding fanatic, and also Collector's actual chosen dad (real, not fake, he revealed this to me in a dream /j), I decided to try and interpret the crumbs we got both from direct and indirect clues in the new episode, as well as tying back to earlier episodes.

I want to start first with the paintings on the Archive halls, which seem to tell a story. I chose to interpret them, from the first shot we see them in, as chronological from left to right, as that usually tends to be how one would read things (at least in the west, don't worry, I haven't forgotten about manga and all that, but I don't think the crew was following manga rules).

Here is a picture of the hallway I am using for reference. This specific shot seems to only have unique paintings aligning (there is an animation quirk that happens later on that makes it not so but I will get to this later), which is why I have elected to extract the timeline from this. Another reason is that, as we will see, the first three pictures definitely seem to fit in a neat chronological order, which would make it hard to doubt the placement of these paintings as being chronological here.

The first seems to depict our Collector, as the smaller one of his species, and three, bigger collectors. For convenience's sake I am in fact choosing to interpret these paintings as being things that happened to him and part of his memories. It makes sense: there is an emphasis on this smaller figure several times throughout the paintings and I cannot think why Collector would put random pictures of some other child collector's life, as well as we have to imagine the crew wanted to tell a story with these, otherwise they would be as random as the sun and moon paintings on the other side of the hall.

So it seems in this first picture, the bigger collectors, perhaps his family, are observing a planet, maybe even the planet the world of the Demon Realm is on.

Here is where I take a detour to add excerpts from the book Collector had King read to him (I should eventually make an analysis post on why Collector wanted this read to him, but all in its due time):

As the book states, collectors, by nature, observe things and then collect them by keeping them in stasis.

Going back to the painting, all indicates that this would show these particular collectors, likely the family of our younger Collector, were interested in the planet the Boiling Isles is on, and this painting depicts the first stage of their plan, observing this planet.

As a quick aside, I would like to say it is likely collectors do know what families are, and they may even form familial bonds and hierarchies. One such nod to this is of course Collector calling Odalia "Mamadalia", but also, this:

It is barely visible, but in a few quick shots you can see the next page of the book. Not only does it seem to use the words "interdimensional" and "dimension(s)", likely referring to the nature of collectors themselves or their residence, but it also uses the word "Family".

So, to recap, three adult collectors, likely our Collector's family, had their sights set on the planet the Boiling Isles is on.

And one of their first contacts was the Titan Trappers.

We now know that despite the resemblance to titans at first glance, titan trappers only wear their skulls and pelts to look like them, making the hunt easier, as well as to, I imagine, indicate pride in their spoils. The indication we have this is not a titan is primarily the spear utilized here, the fact the fur does not match the rest of the body, and the yellow glowing eyes.

I will discuss this further down through showing evidence with the other paintings, but there seems to be a recurring theme in the paintings that depicts the trappers and collectors as always having yellow eyes, whereas the titans are depicted with red eyes.

As Lilith explains further on, books found in the archive detail that a titan's power can actually cancel out the collectors' powers.

She also goes on to say that this why Collector's predecessors (her words not mine) wiped out all the titans.

If such is the case, then that explains why they chose to ally themselves with the trappers. It's likely they needed an intermediator, otherwise they would have not been able to fight the titans full on. In exchange, they likely shared whatever arcane knowledge they could to help in the fights, powering up the trappers.

This would line up perfectly with the trappers' worship of their Grand Huntsman, who as we all know, derives from the Collector and his entire species in aesthetic and looks.

As for why they did not want to risk peaceful contact with the titans besides the reason of their powers being able to be canceled out by titans, there is also the crossed out passage in the book:

Though our Collector declares he tried to "fix" it, we can still clearly see what was originally written, implying that any creature who attempts to stop their work shall meet a deadly end, and maybe even the entire planet will have all of its life wiped out.

So it is likely the titans were not fond of the collectors attempting to collect things in their planet, and fought back, causing the collectors to learn firsthand of their weakness to a titan's power, and to then ally themselves with the trappers.

Which, leads again, to the second painting, depicting two collectors in front of a trapper. The taller one, which I assume is part of our Collector's family, is trying on a skull.

By their side, I will assume is our Collector, due to the smaller stature, and something curious about the body language placed here for him seems to indicate he is examining the skull before putting it on. This could indicate he had an interest on the titans from early on. This will be important later.

As a quick addendum before we move on, I have come to conclude it's highly likely collectors have the ability to change size. In the first painting, the three adults are larger than the entire planet, with our Collector being only a bit smaller than the planet itself. However, in this second painting, the adult is not even as tall as the trapper depicted here, which, if we assume trappers are common witches and demons simply adorned with pelts and skulls just like the modern ones, were not as giant. Similarly, Collector is also way smaller, hence the theory that they change size.

We have seen our Collector possibly changing sizes in canon as well, both in the Owl Beast dream as their hooded figure form seemed massive, and then when they have just broken out of their prison. It's possible collectors scale down their massive size to fit whatever planet they are on.

Next is the third painting, which depicts a familiar scene...

Indeed, this seems to be an almost one to one recreation of the mural we see in Echoes of the Past inside King's castle. We even receive some extra content to it: We now know the titan depicted here had wing like structures on their arms, as well as was protecting an egg, and was accompanied by a smaller, likely juvenile titan.

Notice also how they both have red eyes, but the trapper has yellow eyes.

This all but confirms that the mural is depicting a trapper smithing a titan (whether it is our Titan we do not know for sure), and that the collectors had a hand in this.

Moving on, we have this painting:

Again, going out of the assumption the smaller figure is our Collector, he seems to be approached by four other adult collectors. These collectors however, are slightly different than three he was earlier with: first of all there are four of them, they have no split faces, and their hats are adorned with celestial bodies on their tips. For the sake of convenience I will refer to these as "The Elders", as their difference from our Collector's supposed family, as well as possible authority denoted by their hats, makes me think they are older and more powerful than our Collector's family.

Anyway, The Elders appear to be satisfied with our Collector, one even extending an open palm to them in a friendly gesture. I confess my interpretation of this is more speculative than the other paintings, simply because of the vagueness of it and how it does not seem to tie well into any other pictures or current lore we have.

But my current understanding is that, since one of The Elders is making such a gesture at Collector, they are maybe giving something to them, offering an opportunity. Their authority would certainly denote power above even Collector and his family, so they would likely be able to call the shots in their hierarchy.

Due to this, and considering the next paintings, I have elected to interpret this as The Elders entrusting Collector full control of watching over and collecting things from the planet he and his family had their eyes on. If this happens chronologically after the deal with the trappers as well, this could indicate the Elders have deemed it safe for our Collector to take over.

It also would explain why he calls himself The Collector, he's the designated collector for that planet, the caretaker of this planet and the one meant to observe and collect from it.

Which makes this next painting all the more interesting.

Collector, is surrounded by what seems to be four baby titans. They have their arms up, reaching for him, running to him. Playing. His expression also indicates happiness, eyes wide, hands on his chin, a little smile.

Recall for a moment that in the painting depicting the first contact with the trappers, our Collector had stopped to examine the titan skull. He was interested in them, he wanted to play.

This would align with Collector's "fixing" of the book, going to the lengths of desecrating what is likely an ancient book that dictates/documents the entire culture of his species to ensure his message of playing and friendship is more important.

If we take this painting and the book addition in conjunction, we can come to the conclusion Collector, once left alone, went out of his way to befriend and play with whatever titan babies were left out there. He was likely happy with this, as nothing about this picture indicates a struggle. And once again, these are definitely titan babies due to their eyes being red.

One may be concerned considering the fact the stars here could indicate they are in space, but there are a few counter arguments to this: Collector does not seem to imagine someone could suffocate in space as he suggests people on the moon could just hold their breaths, so this contradicts the idea he would have had experience with this.

The baby titans also seem to have playful body language rather than showing any anguish. And furthermore, when discussing the painting with my boyfriend he pointed out the blue waves could be an abstraction of the shoreline, indicating they were playing on the beach. In short, it is just the simplest explanation this depicts a peaceful scene rather than one with the babies suffocating, as it would not align with the rest of the story here.

There is also the matter of Collector straight up denouncing "the others", which we can only assume refers to the other collectors. It's no wonder he would feel that way, since they were the reason for his new friends' families being all but wiped out, and were less interested in playing with the creatures they observed and rather only preserving them.

Which only makes the present of the Isles and the state of titans and collectors all the more worrying, as well as concerns us with a last, pretty elusive painting...

This is what I meant by animation quirk: Getting a picture of this painting was so hard because it's the very last one in the timeline line up I showed you in that first screenshot, but when the camera zooms in on King and he runs up to get Hooty and we SHOULD get a proper look at it...

... It's pushed back again and the last two paintings get repeated. Which makes me think this is either an animation error, or they REALLY want to make it hard for us to get it.

BUT! After a bunch of rewatches and looking at some slowed down clips again, I was finally able to find the ONE place it repeated, on the scene where Belos!Raine is walking down the halls ominously.

And it is quite the revelation.

This depicts three adult collectors, likely our Collector's parents, staring down menacingly at a titan... perhaps THE Titan this time? It's worth noting this is not the same titan depicted in the painting with the trapper hunting down one that was protecting their egg, as that one had smaller wings and a skull that covered their entire jaw, whereas this one's skull only goes to the muzzle, just like King's does.

Something interesting is that this titan is accompanied either by other very weird looking titans, or these are other creatures that inhabited the Boiling Isles at the time and were also casualties in the collectors' path.

There is also fire surrounding this picture, which makes me think again of the "clear the earth, scorch the air" verse. It's also odd these collectors are approaching the titan(s) despite the fact titan magic could easily push them back, so it could be that they are betting it all on this and going on to cause massive destruction. But the titan seems to be holding up a hand as if gesturing for them to stop, or wait... they're not fighting back like with the trappers. Why?

Well, if this takes place after the painting with Collector playing the baby titans, it's possible these titans had become accustomed to our Collector and did not expect such an attack. It's likely they may have at first understood that this Collector was a child, one that was more interested in playing and befriending them rather than hurting anyone, and cautiously took them in.

Now, whether it was a misunderstanding with Collector's family thinking they were in danger or they were angered by their refusal to hurt titans... we know how the story ends. The titans were all wiped out, safe for King's egg, and Collector was sealed away by King's dad, likely one of the last things he'd ever do.

Overall I think our Collector's backstory is both horrifying and sad. Horrifying because of what his species is capable of, but also sad because despite his efforts to make peace with the titans, it couldn't save them and cost him his freedom. It's no wonder he was so happy to see a titan again, and latched onto King: this is like his second chance.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"I got your text, baby. Don't feel bad..... Lots of guys like to see girls get so pregnant they burst. You shouldn't feel guilty for slipping me Femruptarin. I'm overjoyed to live out your fantasy. You could've just asked, you know? What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't agree to pop for you? It would be like if you asked me to get massive fake titties or get so fat I can't get out of bed..... Is a girl even worth dating if she'd say no to questions like that? I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I'm a prude or something. I can't wait to grow and grow and get so big my womb just can't take it, my belly the size of a yoga ball, stretched to its limit. And I'll still be satisfying you even when I look like I could pop any second.

I bet you've always wanted to do this to a girl. I better not be your last, either. After me you've gotta go out and find another girls to pump full of your cum until she gets so pregnant she bursts! I'm only four months.... look at how huge my belly is. Normally when I get pregnant for a guy I'm this size around eight months. Seven if I'm lucky. But you got me this big so fast! You're incredible.... you know that? Now you can show me off everywhere we go. You better tell everyone we chat with at the club or bar or wherever else that you put me on Femruptarin and you're trying to pop me. I want to see how they react. I hope the girls out with their boyfriends get jealous of us, and say they better get them so pregnant they pop next time!

I'll dance with you as long as I can, maybe we can even swing, or you can watch me please other men just for a thrill, as you tell them they can go as hard as they want on me, since I'm just a walking balloon who's going to pop anyway..... We should go out as much as possible so you can savor watching as many people as possible reacting to what you've done to me. I bet their remarks are gonna make you soooo fucking hard, and you better believe I'm going to happily boast to each and every one of them that I'm gonna pop just for you. Get so huge my womb simply can't last another inch. Once I get a bit bigger if anybody touches my belly I'll joke that it's groaning and could burst any second! And encourage them to give my belly a good smack, just for fun. Doesn't that sound divine? I better go, I'm sure you're ready to cum watching this at work.... I'll just be lying here, rubbing my belly, fantasizing about the big day, playing with my swollen pussy, thinking about all the future girlfriends you'll get to burst after me."

[yeollie-plz]

The Lovers: The Consummation

Knight! Pedro Pascal x Princess! Reader

The Main Series

Synopsis: The Princess and her husband's first night together.

Genre: Smut!!, fluff if you squint

Warnings: smut, 18+, Y/N insert, fantasy settings, fake marriage, contract marriage, age gap, male masturbation, groaning and moaning, innocent reader, slightly innocent Pedro, loss of virginity, p in v sex, unprotected sex (its ok they are married!), kissing, praise kink

Gif credits to owners!

A/N: This is a companion story to The Lovers, sort of a sneak peak to further chapters and their love story.

The princess laid awake in bed, tortured by what she had said earlier. It was one thing to confess your love to someone, but to confess your lust...that was a whole different story. It wasn't like she regretted it, it was more like she had wished it was a love confession first. She knew the way her husband felt about her and to dangle herself in front of him, well.

She pulled the sheets over her increasingly heating face, trying to hide from the world. After hours of trying to sleep to no avail, she wrestled with the idea of sneaking to apologize to her husband. But he wouldn't be awake, would he?

Deciding that one little knock wouldn't wake him, she pushed the covers off of her body. Donning her robe and slippers, the princess left the room and shuffled through the hallway to her husband's door.

Before she could bring herself to raise her hand and knock on the door, she heard groans from inside the room. For second she thought she was hearing things, but then another one came. There must be something wrong, maybe someone snuck into the castle and attacked him, she thought.

Without thinking she hurriedly pushed open the door to see no one in the room but her husband. Sat up in the large chair in the corner, his pants missing, and something in his hands. A look of shock on his face as he snapped his head up to see who interrupted him. When he noticed who the intruder was, his eyes glazed over with an indiscernible look.

"My dear, you've caught me at a very intimate time." He spoke, his hand didn't leave the object between his legs, but he did stop his movements.

"I just wanted to apologize for the way I spoke earlier. It was very inappropriate of me and-"

He let out another groan, stopping you mid speech.

"I'm not sure we should be doing this right now, your voice is about to put me over the edge." He said, a sort of pain underlying in his voice.

"Excuse me?" Put him over the edge? He thinks you are annoying.

"I didn't mean it like that, love. I just meant...can you shut the door and come closer?" You nodded and did as he asked. When you got closer to him the thing in his hand came fully into view. It was a part of him, another limb almost? What was it?

He saw you looking and answered your silent question, "This is my penis, did no one teach you about human anatomy or sex?"

You shook your head, no. He let out a shocked laugh.

"With the way you spoke to me earlier, I assumed you knew a little something."

"I know that sex is reserved for a married couple and it is an act to make a child." You said mater-of-factly. For some reason you felt you needed to prove yourself to him.

"It is the act to make a baby, yes. But, it is also an act of pleasure, an act of pure animalistic lust." You nodded slowly at his words.

"The reason I spoke the way I did earlier, was because I couldn't stand the way my body heats at the thought of you. I needed to tell you."

"I'm glad you did. I'm happy I make you feel the way you make me feel. It's called getting turned on and you telling me all those things got me turned on, so I was touching myself. Have you ever touched yourself?"

You shook your head, another no.

"Want me to show you how? It will help you relieve some of your 'heat'."

You nodded, this time a yes.

"Words darling, tell me what you want me to do to you."

"Want you to...to touch me. I'm burning." With the words of consent, he grabbed your hips and helped you to sit on his lap. His lips instantly latched onto your neck, kissing you slowly.

He made his way to your jaw, before kissing the edge of your mouth. Your face instinctively turned to attach your lips fully to his. He smirked into the kiss. The hands that were on your hips made their way lower, stroking your goose-bumped thighs.

He pushed your robe open so he could see more of you. Your nightdress was made of a thin silk and suddenly you were acutely aware of this fact. Your hardened nipples were on full display. He seemed to notice as well and smirked at this too.

"Oh, my love, if only you knew the things you do to me. The things I want to do to you. Fuck..." His eyes were still locked onto your nipples and you let out a gasp as his mouth was now on them. Soaking your nightdress with his spit as he sucked the buds. That was when you let out your first moan. Not knowing you could make that sound, let alone what it was, you covered your mouth in shock.

He noticed the moan as well and detached from your nipples, to look you in the eyes. He grabbed your hand and gently pulled it from your mouth. Kissing from your hand all the way up your arm to your shoulder.

"That was a good noise, it means you like what I'm doing to you. Please, never hide those."

You once again nodded. He pecked your lips before looking at the blushing, heated mess that you were on top of him. He ghosted his fingers on your stomach, very closely to where you really needed him to touch you. Before he abruptly stood up, lifting you by the hips to keep you locked onto him. He walked the two of you over to the bed and laid you onto it.

He hovered over you, you had never been more entranced by a man in your life before this moment. His tousled hair, his figure, the light beads of sweat just starting to form on his tan skin. He was art.

"You're beautiful." You gasped out.

He laughed, "i should be saying that to you, my dear." He began kissing you again, and if it was even possible there was even more intensity behind it. Each minute that went by you were getting hotter and hotter. You began to feel a wetness between your legs, you had only ever felt it when you watched Pedro spar once before.

"Pedro, I'm..." You trailed off not sure how to explain the situation.

"What? You're what? It's okay, tell me."

"I'm wet, down there." You motioned to between your legs, a different kind of blush forming.

"Oh, don't worry, that's normal. Just means I'm doing my job correctly."

"Oh, I see."

"Let me see if i can help you out down there." He moved his body down the bed so his head was now between your legs. He reached up your thigh and under the hem of your dress, pulling at your panties.

"Is this okay?" He asked.

"Yes." You weren't sure if you going to say no to this man anymore tonight. This was it, you were putty in his hands.

He pulled your underwear down your legs and off of your body, tossing them to the ground. Grabbing the bottom of your nightdress he lifted it up so your mound was now fully visible to him. His fingers made contact with your sensitive clit, sending a shock wave through your body, another moan escaping out. This seemed to spur him on as his fingers began to fully work your bundle of nerves.

With every stroke of his finger, you would moan and writhe in pleasure, you never knew anything could feel like this. Something began to build, as you gasped out at the feeling.

"Wait, wait somethings happening."

He continued his motions, moving very deliberately. "It's okay, let go."

Finally something in you snapped and you saw white. Your legs shook uncontrollably, as your walls clenched around nothing. Pedro continued his motions, gradually slowing so you could work through the amazing pleasure you were feeling. As your breathing became steady, his fingers ceased their movement. He rose back up to look you in your eyes. A blissed out look covered your face as you tried to grapple with reality again.

"What was that?" You asked.

"That was an orgasm, that's what you can do to yourself when you're alone to make you feel good. Just use your fingers like I used mine. It's called masturbation."

"But it feels so good when you do it." You had let it slip without thinking.

He chuckled, "I'm glad, my love, next time I'll show you something even better. But right now, I wanted to see how you felt about making love?"

You eyes widened at the thought of full-on sex. You, obviously, and it scared you. You two were married, but still, its nerve wracking.

"I mean, we are married so it's what we are supposed to do, right?" You said.

"Yes, but I want to have sex with you because I want, no I need all of you. Not just because we are married, but because I love you." It wasn't the first time he had admitted that he loved you, but you never knew that love could make you want something this much.

"It's my first time so I'm just a bit nervous." You confirmed, not ready to say those three words yet. Both of you had gotten used to him saying it and you not saying it back.

"It's, uh, my first time too, actually." This shocked you, with how much he knew you had assumed he had, had sex before. Men weren't exactly held to the same standard as women were about saving themselves.

"I wanted to save myself for the women I married. The women I loved."

"How do you know so much then?" You questioned.

"The other knights talk a lot and loudly. They are very proud of their 'conquests'." He shuddered at the word.

"I see."

He cleared his throat, "So my arm is falling asleep a bit here, holding myself up and all. Should I just walk you back to your room or?"

"Oh! No! No, I want you to make love to me." He smiled at your words, a blush rising to his cheeks.

"And I will do just that!" He pecked your lips again, before wrapping your body into his arms and laying himself down next to you. He kissing you long and slow, letting his arms explore every inch of you. Your hands gripped at his shirt, wanting to feel all of him on you.

As if reading your mind, he pushed back from you and lifted the thin white shirt over his head. He glanced at the nightdress that still adorned your body. You took this as your queue to also shed yourself of your clothing, baring your naked form to him.

"You're beautiful." He mirrored your words from earlier, grabbing your head and smashing your lips back together. His other head reached between his legs and stroked his member.

He laid you down once again and returned to his position of hovering over you.

"So, I'm going to insert myself inside of you. It may hurt a bit so I'm going to go very slowly. Let me know if it hurts too much."

You nodded, words really have been failing you tonight.

"Ready?"

"Yes." The word held onto your breath, like a prayer.

Slowly he began to insert his member inside of you. The stretch was more painful than you had originally thought it would be and you grabbed his hand. He paused, taking this as a sign that you needed a moment.

After a second, he asked, "You okay?"

"It just hurt more than I thought, but I think I'm okay now."

He continued to push himself inside of your walls, stretching you out. Finally, his member was fully inside of you, you let out a breath.

"Can I move?"

"Move?" What does he mean move?

"I'm supposed to thrust myself in and out of you. It's supposed to be very pleasurable for both of us."

"Oh I see, I didn't realize there was more."

"There doesn't have to be, if you aren't ready." He tried to reassure you.

"No, you should thrust."

He couldn't help but laugh at your response but followed it anyways. His hips moved backward, pulling himself out of you. His tip reached the rim of your pussy before pushing fully back inside of you. He continued this motion slowly for a bit before you finally let out a moan.

"Does it feel good, my love?"

Your next yes came out as a moan as he bottomed out inside of you. He kept his slow pace stroking every part of your walls with his dick. The moans got louder and louder, as his pace began to quicken.

Pedro let out a groan at one particularly good thrust. This caused you to clench around his dick.

"Fuck, you feel so good. It feels so good inside you." He praised.

"Can you...can you go faster?" You asked, you could feel the coil in you once again. You didn't know why but you needed him to move faster or harder...or both.

He followed your instructions and began thrusting faster. The thrusts were shorter but they were feeling so much better. Each thrust hit a certain spot inside you that made you see stars. Pedro reached his hand down to rub your clit.

"I'm getting close, I need you to orgasm with me. Think you can do that?"

Now you had lost all ability to speak so you nodded. His lips found yours, as his fingers found your clit. Rubbing circles into it, as he continued his thrusts. His pace got a bit faster as he chased his orgasm and his fingers moved faster as he willed yours to come.

He grunted as he came inside of you, the feeling and noise causing you to tip over the edge as well. You clenched onto his dick as he kept his movements going, working you both down from your highs. When you had both returned to earth, he dropped his body next to yours, member still inside of you.

"You were right, it was very pleasurable." You said after a beat of silence. The only noise in the room was the sound of your labored breaths.

"It was very pleasurable." He agreed.

Looking over at you, he pulled you even closer, and planted a kiss on your head. You two fell asleep in each others arms.

You had just consummated your fake marriage.

Taglist:

@kittenlittle24 @tinypersonharmony @sofiparallel

[irkimatsu]

Getting back into my groove with 2.5k words of absolute filth. Overlord Husk shares Pet!Reader with an acquaintance of his. Husk is a considerate lover but also makes it clear who owns you and who's just borrowing you. Mainly centered on double penetration. Husk and Reader aren't necessarily in an exclusive romantic relationship but there's a special spark between the two. Reader's kind of a slut (positive) though. Reader uses she/her pronouns, words like "lady", has breasts and vagina.

Obviously so very NSFW, nasty nasty nasty, I wrote this to be horny and you can read it if you want

Will try to write requests and/or Emberlynn fic next time

The cock currently filling your pussy from below is somewhat smaller than you’re used to, although it’s still lined with soft barbs that pull deliciously at your walls with every entrance. The light brown fur on the man you’re laying over is so much more unkempt than you’re used to, more scratchy than comforting, although his claws bite into your thighs just as nicely. You saw his eyes earlier, a greenish yellow with pupils blown by some sort of substance, but he currently has them screwed shut as he thrusts up into you, moaning in a voice close to an alley cat’s yowl.

He’s nothing like what you’ve gotten used to, but he’s still not bad.

“Fuck, Husker…” the cat man below you moans as he fucks in and out of you, going slower than he wants to make sure doesn’t finish inside you within minutes. “I thought you’d never… share this one…”

“She wanted to try it with another cat, and you’re the lucky bastard, Raff,” says a deep voice from behind you, its baritone sending a shiver over your spine stronger than the man beneath you could ever give your body. “How’s he doin’, baby?”

“He’s doing good,” you moan, slightly exaggerated but not entirely faked.

“Sounds like he could be doing better. I know your moans, doll.” Fuck, can’t get anything past him. Of course the Gambling Overlord would have a sense for when someone is faking it.

Oh well. It’s not like the three of you weren’t all clear about this from the start. You’re not here for Raff specifically; he’s a means to an end, a tool to help you accomplish your real fantasy.

Your heart pounds in your chest as the bed sinks beneath you, indicating that your fantasy is getting closer. Paws much larger than Raff’s rest on your ass as a soft snout kisses its way across your cheeks and the backs of your thighs. “You look so good, baby…” Husk murmurs between kisses. “Love watching you ride cock… even though it ain’t mine…”

“It could be,” you remind him, before an unusually rough thrust from below knocks the wind out of you. Raff grits his teeth as he remains buried in you, lightly grinding his hips against you. His paws tremble against your thighs, and you’re worried the poor thing is going to break any moment now.

“It will be,” Husk says, and fuck you can hear the delicious smirk on his face. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten why we’re here… you haven’t forgotten either, right, Raff?”

Raff whines, and you’re uncertain if he even heard the question.

“All right, stop movin’ for a second,” Husk says. “Hips on the bed. Come on.” Raff lets himself drop, almost but not quite slipping out of you. His eyes are half-lidded as he gasps for breath.

“Fuck…” he whispers to no one in particular.

“Now, hold still. I know it’s hard to resist, in a cunt like hers…” Your skin prickles as silky, well-groomed fur runs over your ass and up your spine, as Husk kisses his way up your body and slides his chest against you. “...but we gotta make sure she’s comfortable.” His waist is pressed against your ass, lightly rubbing his hard cock against your ass, as he hunches over and presses loud, wet kisses to the backs of your shoulders and neck. “You ready, baby?”

You nod with a needy hum of agreement. He responds by pressing his shaft between your cheeks and slowly rubbing it back and forth against your entrance.

“It’s already one of the best holes I’ve ever had,” he groans as he slides against you, soft fur and hard erection contrasting against your sensitive body in the most delightful way. “But like this… fuck, you’re gonna be so tight…”

“Why do you get her ass first, anyway?” Raff asks, his breath not quite returned to him yet.

“Because she’s my pet and I said so,” he snaps. He then moves his mouth to your ear and speaks further, his voice immediately worlds gentler. “I’m gonna start. You need anything, you say the word.”

Before you have time to acknowledge his words, you’re gasping as he sinks his tip into your ass. He hisses through his teeth as you clench around him, and Raff moans in tandem, clearly feeling it as much as Husk is.

“She’s fucking choking it-” Raff gasps out, before moaning again as Husk sinks deeper inside her.

“Keep still,” is all Husk has to say as he slowly rocks half of his length in and out of you, drawing stronger moans from you than Raff ever managed. “You doing all right?”

He doesn’t even need to use your names; you know which tone of voice is reserved for which person, tender baritone versus short snaps.

“More than… all right…” you manage to gasp out as he moves, filling you a little more with each thrust. Had Husk always felt this fucking big inside you? Even Raff is starting to feel satisfying…

“There we go… you hear that? Now that’s what she sounds like during a good fuck…” Your voice grows louder as Husk’s thrusts grow faster; you don’t even need Raff to move. You’re happy to let him lie there, tightening you up for the one whose cock really matters…

“Now fuck her with me. Try to match my rhythm.”

Raff starts thrusting up into you, and fuck, you have to concede that he is in fact helping. Both cocks move in and out of you at roughly the same speed, one pulling out while the other pushes in balls deep. You’ve never felt so fucking full before; not even the toys you’ve tried on yourself could provide this warmth, this strength…

“Faster,” Husk grunts as he picks up his own pace. Raff follows in turn, but in contrast to Husk’s controlled grunts, he’s already a whining mess.

“God this whore’s so good, I’m gonna-”

“You’re not gonna finish in her already, are you?” Husk says. “She’s just getting started, and you’re gonna let her down like that?”

Raff stops thrusting halfway inside of you, and whimpers as if he’s been scolded.

“I don’t care what you gotta do, the lady always cums first. And if she doesn’t, I’m happy to let you sit back and watch how it’s really done. You okay with that, baby?”

You nod with a gasp, not thinking clearly but pretty sure you’re fine with anything that involves Husk’s cock inside you like this.

“...yes, sir,” Raff replies, firmly cowed by Husk’s threat. He starts thrusting into you again, much slower this time. Husk doesn’t bother matching his rhythm anymore, pounding into your ass as quickly as he needs. The mismatch is strange at first, but you get used to it quickly, and it’s godly when the two line up their timing and fill you at once.

“Hold it like that-” Husk grunts when they’re both bottomed out inside you, filling you as deeply as possible and holding still to savor it. “God, you’re fucking clenching-”

“You’re liking that, aren’t you, slut? Liking those big barbed cocks?”

“Can’t fucking wait to make you cum-”

“Can’t believe Husker keeps a whore as good as you- all to himself-”

The contrasting voices and tones tear through you, praise and degradation lighting so many nerves in your mind at once.

“Fuck her,” Husk commands as he starts snapping his hips again, making you gasp and curse with every slap of his waist against your ass. “Don’t let her down.”

Raff once again starts moving, and finally, he seems to have found his stride; he’s pounding into you hard, angling against a sweet spot that takes away your breath, and with Husk’s help he’s finally got you feeling as stretched as you need. Both sets of barbs overstimulate you to the point of tears, but far from the point of ever wanting this to end.

“Aw, don’t cry, baby…” Raff coos as he moves a hand up to the back of your head. “We’ve got ya, don’t worry…” He pulls you down into a kiss that tastes of stale cigarettes and spoiled beer.

The kiss doesn’t last very long before you hear a deep, predatory growl from behind you. Raff squeaks pathetically as he pulls away from the kiss and lets his head fall back onto the bed.

“I didn’t- mind it-” you try to assure Husk with what little voice you have left.

“I did,” he says simply as he grabs your chin and turns your head to the side. He leans forward and brings you into a much more satisfying kiss, tasting of red wine and woodsy smoke, his tongue curling around yours as if trying to possess it.

“Mine,” he says in a deep growl before moving down to kiss and bite at your shoulder. His paws slide up your sides until they reach your breasts, cupping them with their massive size and lightly gripping your skin with his claws. “I may be sharing… but you’re still mine.”

“I’m yours-” you moan before he thrusts into you harder than ever, making your pleas even more sincere. “Fuck- I’m yours, sir, I’m yours, sir, yours!”

“Tell him who you belong to, baby.” His breath is so hot on your skin, even as the pleasure of two cocks at once breaks you into a sweat.

You make sure to look Raff dead in the eyes he’s struggling to keep open as you respond.

“I belong to- ah-”

“Keep going, baby, tell him-”

“I belong to- Overlord Husk- I’m his pet- I’m his slut- oh god, please, sir-”

Your reward for your obedience is a bite to your shoulder and a tight grip of your tits.

“Hear how close she is?” Husk says through heavy breaths. “Time to give her everything you’ve got. Remember, she cums first- don’t let her- down-”

Husk grabs your hips in his paws again, while Raff chooses to grab at your ass. With all four sets of claws embedded firmly into your skin, the pair start pounding into you with all their strength. Their sweaty bodies pin your own heated body between them, rubbing against you as they fill you deep, fucking into you like a toy. Three gasping, screaming voices fill the room, and three bodies move in imperfect rhythm. 

You’re all rapidly reaching your peak, both of their swollen cocks twitching and throbbing within your tight heat. Luckily for them, you’re the first to go, as their own excitement finally drives you crazier than you can stand.

“Oh fuck- fuck me, sir- Raff- Husk-”

Hearing his name from your voice seems to give Raff the steam he needs to push you over the edge. Neither of them stop moving as you scream so loud it burns your throat, every muscle tightening as pleasure washing through your entire body. Both men pin you between their hips, groaning as they thrust their throbbing cocks as best as they can.

“Gonna fill you up, slut-”

“Take every drop, baby, I know you can-”

You’re not sure who loses it first; all you’re aware of in the aftershocks of your orgasm are two hot waves filling your holes, two voices desperately crying out as pleasure distracts them from their bravado.  By the time you come down, you’re a twitching mess who can barely see straight. You’re only dimly aware of the rumbling purr above you as Husk soothes your shoulder with gentle licks.

“You okay?” he asks, his gentleness making you shiver all over again. You nod slowly as you slump against Raff, happy to lay here sandwiched between them both, surrounded by heat and fur. Maybe it’s the high from your climax, but even Raff feels surprisingly soft now…

“Surprised you let her call you that,” Raff says with what little breath he has.

“She’s special. She can call me what she wants.”

After you’ve had a few minutes to rest, Husk wraps his arms around your waist and rolls you over onto your side. He loosens his grip just enough for you to turn around and nuzzle your face into his chest, then hugs you tight. You wonder what you were thinking, enjoying Raff’s fur just a few minutes ago; Husk is clearly the superior option in this bed, his fur always so fluffily soft and wonderful smelling…

“How was it?” he asks with genuine concern. “Was it what you wanted it to be?”

“It was perfect,” you assure him with another nuzzle. “All thanks to you. Thank you for taking such good care of me…”

In your threesome fantasies from before you met Husk, you always liked imagining both of your partners cuddling you in the aftermath… but since you’re sure Husk will bite Raff’s paws off if he tries touching you right now, you’re not going to push that matter.

It’s not like Husk’s affection isn’t enough for you, anyway.

“Good… I had fun too.” He purrs again as he gently kisses your head. “I’ve shared with Raff before, and it’s always a good time… so with you… I knew it’d be fucking fantastic…” He moves down slightly so he can kiss your jaw, and chuckles at your overstimulated moan. “I swear, while you were cumming I actually ascended to heaven for a minute…”

“Too bad they didn’t wanna keep you,” Raff snarks.

“It’s okay. I want him down here with me.” He moans happily as you run your hand down his side, resting it on his hip and gently scratching it. “Thanks for indulging me… I’d love to do that again sometime.”

“Did old Raff impress you that much?” Husk says with a laugh.

“Not just him… honestly… I’m curious what other kinds of cocks I can find down here.” He moans louder as you squeeze his hip. You lean up to whisper directly in his ear, making it twitch with your breaths. “You know what would be nice?” you whisper seductively. “I wonder how it would feel to have you fucking my ass… while I have a huge knot bulging my pussy…”

Husk moans in clear interest. “I know a couple of hellhounds who could help make that dream come true for ya. They’ll take care of you, I know they will. Anything for my doll…” He pulls you down so he can kiss your mouth, deeply and hungrily, as he squeezes your waist tight. His cock is rapidly twitching back to life against your thigh.

“Looks like you’re ready for more…” You kiss him again, matching his hunger, as you roll him over to lay on top of him. He moans into your relentless kisses as you grind against his cock, your pussy still dripping with Raff’s cum.

It wasn’t bad, being filled by Raff - far from it - but you’re not complete without his.

“Mmm… hey, Raff!” Husk calls, moaning happily as you kiss his neck while grinding against him. “You wanna go again? I’ll let you have her ass this time!”