#I SPENT SO LONG ON THIS. motivation just struck me

[rouge-the-bat]

[samuraisharkie]

girl help I’m experiencing that common yet elusive late night motivation to get my life together knowing it will fall apart in the morning </3 girl fucking help me

[ronwestbreeze]

TO YOU , WORLDS AWAY : PART TWO : CHAPTER TWELVE

pairing: jake sully x fem!reader

summary: in which it is the year 2159

word count: 2.4k

author's note: hello hello! TYWA part two has arrived! now updating is going to be a bit different for this. i'm thinking posting each chapter once a week will be what I will do from here on out that way I can have time to write future chapters whilst you all read the one's I have already written! just remember, don't demand me to post, it doesn't help with motivation or make me want to keep writing it! anyways, thank you for the patience! and without further ado, part two!

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“I keep having these dreams. About this girl. Every time I saw her, it felt like I knew her for years. Like she was my best friend in the whole world. And I couldn’t imagine a life without her.”

“Tell me about these dreams.”

“Well…they always start with fire and…”

“What’s wrong? Baby girl, what is it?”

“You’ll think I’m weird, Daddy.”

“I won’t, I won’t. I promise.”

“When I wake up, I’m sad. Like I’ve lost someone. And it feels so heavy…Daddy, I hate it!”

“Sssh, ssh, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’ve got you, alright? I’ve got you.”

“I miss her, Daddy. I miss her so much.”

“Miss who, baby girl?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t even know her name…”

Year 2159

It had been five years since the RDA were exiled off of Pandora and Dr. Chloe Parker was still trying to find her footing on this planet. 

Before the battle, she had been well into the late Dr. Augustine’s Avatar Program. Trained and studied learning to control her own avatar and then using her time to explore all of Pandora’s plants and herbs. And it was interesting, learning about all the medicines here, the potential use for them.

Then the battle at the Tree of Souls happened. Killing dozens of wildlife, many humans and Na’vi alike. It was a sad day to say the least. But after Jake Sully took over as the clan leader for the Omatikaya Clan and exiled the RDA off of Pandora, things began to change for the better.

Dr. Chloe had been one of the humans allowed to stay on Pandora, mostly because she didn’t contribute to the war that struck the planet and because Dr. Max Patel vouched for her and some of the other scientists and avatar volunteers. Now she had spent her time continuing to explore all of Pandora, working with the Na’vi in different clans to study their ways of medicine and perhaps teach them some of the stuff humans do, even though she knew they would probably never use it.

For the past few months, Dr. Chloe, and her small research team, took their avatars and their next journey to the Olangi Clan. A very nomadic clan that worked very closely with the Omatikaya so their home wasn’t too far from the former’s. Their clan leader, Akwey, had allowed them to stay and start their research there as long as they didn’t pose a threat to his people and were respectful of the lands and their ways. Which wasn't a difficult task, especially when there were no more military men flanking the planet anymore.

But as of recently, Dr. Chloe had been requested to retrieve the Tsahik of the Omatikaya Clan, Mo’at since the Olangi’s Tsahik had died in the battle against the RDA. So, instead of researching like the rest of her team, she had been made into a messenger, going back and forth from each clan speaking of something called Eywa…Dr. Chloe wasn’t really too spiritual to care much of who this Eywa was. But if it made the people happy and content, and kept them from shutting down her research, then Dr. Chloe would take one for the team for now.

On the other hand, she wasn’t entirely too comfortable leaving her very first patient alone so much. A patient very important to her research.

When Dr. Chloe found Mo’at, she was with her daughter, Neytiri if she could recall correctly. Dr. Chloe never really had a conversation with the woman—mostly because of her obvious distaste of Dr. Chloe’s presence—and today was no different. Once she arrived in her avatar form, Neytiri hissed and walked away. One of her children, a young boy, followed after her closely.

“Why has Akwey sent you now, Chloeparker?” Mo’at greeted her while crushing up what looked like herbs in a small wooden bowl. Dr. Chloe’s Na’vi wasn’t perfect but she could understand a lot of it after years of listening to both Dr. Augustine and the people talk expertly in it.

“An elder died yesterday.” Dr. Chloe informed her, stuffing her hands into her shorts. “Akwey wishes for you to perform the ceremony.”

Mo’at hummed, not looking up from her work. “One day, he will have to come to my daughter as she will be the next Tsahik of the People. And I will finally rest.”

“Let’s hope that day isn’t soon then.” Dr. Chloe commented with a thin smile. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your daughter doesn’t seem to like me much.”

“You are Sky People. Of course she doesn't like you.” Mo’at stood with the bowl and finally looked at Dr. Chloe. “I am not too fond of your people either.”

Dr. Chloe could understand that in a way. But she was a bit tired of being grouped with the people that tried to destroy Pandora and take it over. Then again, she really couldn’t blame them. If she were in their shoes, she’d hold a grudge too. It didn’t matter if they were the same or not. That anger, that resent, it was uncontrollable and rightful. Dr. Chloe could do nothing but shrug.

“Touché.”

“Mmph.” Mo’at then handed her the bowl. Dr. Chloe took it, surprised at the sudden gesture. “I understand you are a doctor among your people. This can be more useful than whatever technology you Sky People insist on using.”

Chloe held the little bowl delicately but frowned, “The technology is not all useless, you know. It does help sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” Mo’at pointed out. Dr. Chloe tried not to roll her eyes.

There was small movement behind Mo’at and Dr. Chloe did a double take. She hadn’t realized they weren’t alone until Mo’at had stood. It was a little girl that didn’t really look like Na’vi. Actually, when Dr. Chloe looked at her closely, she realized the little girl looked awfully similar to someone.

Before she could wonder just who the little girl reminded her of, her earpiece suddenly beeped, alerting her that one of her team members was calling her from back at the Olangi Clan.

Dr. Chloe excused herself before answering her earpiece, “This is Dr. Chloe—”

“You need to get back here fast!”

She blinked in confusion at the urgency in her fellow researcher, Simon's voice, “Why, what’s happening?”

There was a pause, “…Okay, don’t get mad but we decided to take her out of cryosleep—”

“WHAT?!” Dr. Chloe covered her mouth when Mo’at gave her a disapproving scowl and the little girl watched her curiously. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice before continuing, “Why the hell would you do something like that—she’s not even stable enough to take her out—”

“Just let me explain!” Simon interrupted with an exhausted sigh. “We connected her to the machines we’ve been working on for months ever since we first started working on her, remember?”

“Those aren’t even ready yet!” Chloe hissed into the earpiece, walking out of the tent where Mo’at and the little girl still were. “Simon, what the hell were you thinking—”

“It worked, Chloe.”

She went quiet. Her eyes wandered aimlessly around the forest, unsure if she had heard him correctly. When Simon called her name again she finally responded in a hushed whisper, “You’re not shitting me, are you? Y-Your saying—”

“It worked, Chloe, it worked.” She could practically imagine the growing smile on his face as he said this. “She could wake up at any moment now. But with her condition, it’s not exactly permanent and I don’t imagine she herself would be happy with the results, but they are supporting her. They're keeping her alive until we know how to deal with the heavier wounds.”

This was definitely a development. This had been something she had been working on for two years now, hearing that it worked, on a person no less? Chloe couldn’t help but start packing up her things and leave.

“I’ll be right there! Don’t do anything without me!”

And with that, Chloe rushed back toward the Samson she had arrived in, ordering the pilot to take her back to plains.

There was a lab within the tall trees the Olangi Clan lived in. Chloe had it built when she first arrived in the plains. Even though she technically wanted to build one in one of the trees, having a lab hanging from a tree wasn’t exactly the safest position. So, they went with having it on the ground.

Plus, if they had done it in the tree, then the lab wouldn’t be as spacious as they needed it to be.

When Chloe arrived back, she came out of her link bed with Simon waiting for her.

“How is she?”

The two walked side by side with each other, leaving the link room and walking down the long hallway. Simon carried a holographic pad in his hands as he spoke, “She’s stable, still has yet to wake up, but things are looking good so far. The doctors want to start on the severe wounds right away.”

“How exactly bad are these injuries?” Chloe found herself asking. Really, when they first saw the patient, they had already decided to quickly put her in cryosleep with how badly injured she was and freeze her wounds before it became any more lethal to her body. Chloe hadn’t exactly seen it for herself but she’d always kept hearing about how bad it was.

Simon frowned, “Third and second degree burns, a broken rib, and a her lungs might've collapsed, I'm not entirely sure.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, I hear she was a lot worse and the doctors managed to work on some of the less lethal burns, but she’s not exactly out of the woods yet.” Simon sighed as they stopped in front of the closed door. “We have twenty minutes with her before the doctors get to work.”

Chloe frowned, staring at him incredulously, “What should we say to her if she does wake up?”

Simon shrugged, “Tell of the situation, maybe fill her in since she’s missed basically five years of her life, and…I don’t know, comfort her the best we know how?”

“Comfort is not either of our strong suits, Simon.”

Simon rolled his eyes before finally opening the door.

What did death feel like? Was it this bright? This cold? Were you supposed to feel so heavy, so numb as if you couldn’t feel your body. Maybe your consciousness was floating above your body. There were stories like that, you remember reading about people who have died for a few seconds and were able to see their body outside of themselves.

Okay, maybe you weren’t actually dead. You may not have known what it felt like but you were pretty sure you weren’t supposed to be able to recall a memory as if it were another day. Then again, your body didn’t feel like a ton of anvils had fallen onto it and was pinning it down, preventing you from moving.

You hadn’t realized your eyes had been open until a shadow came into view, blocking some of the light above. Your vision was blurred, really you didn’t know when you had woken up or how long you had been staring up at the ceiling. Yes, that was definitely a ceiling.

Either hell was some bright room or you were somehow still alive.

Muffled voices echoed into your ears. You hadn’t realized, at first, that the voices were coming from the shadowed heads above you. It was like using your ears for the first time, like you were a newborn baby. Hell, your eyes felt like they hadn’t been used before.

Soon, you started registering the voices.

“You think she fell into some sort of vegetative state?” This voice belonged to a woman.

“I don’t know. It’s a possibility. Coming out of a cryosleep can be a little much.” This voice belonged to a man. Neither of them were familiar to your groggy mind. “We might need to get the doctors.”

Soon your vision began to clear.

“Wait, hold on…” The woman above you whispered. She was staring directly down at you, eyes wide with wonder. “I think she’s…”

Your eyes then moved to the second head, the man, when he came back over and appeared in your vision. And like their voices, they were both unfamiliar to you. Even in your foggy mind, you could not recall a single memory where it included these two strangers. Wait, maybe the woman. Back before you had stopped going to Hell’s Gate, you might’ve seen her a few times in passing.

Wait.

Hell’s Gate.

The bombs.

The ship crashed.

You should’ve been dead.

“Dr. L/N?”

The woman’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, you refocused your gaze on her and she grinned excitedly. “You can hear me? Understand me?”

With great difficulty, you nodded. Or maybe your head shifted slightly similar to a nod, you didn’t really know.

“Holy shit.” The male muttered in amazement.

The woman continued grinning, “Welcome back, Doc.”

Before you could ask her where you were, before you could question who these people were, it suddenly hit you.

And it really hit you. Worse than a pile of anvils. More like an out of control train that crashed right into your body and dragged you along the way.

That was the type of pain that struck your body once your senses had begun coming back. This pain was unimaginable. It was unlike anything, unlike any pain you had ever felt in your short life.

This was worse. This was what death felt like.

You didn’t remember much of what happened after your chest jolted forward from the shock of the pain. All you saw was the two that had been standing over you, rushing away, shouting for what sounded like help. And in the next few seconds you kept blacking out a few times. The world went in and out. Every sound clashed together around you. Most of the pain, you realized, was coming from your waist, hell, just your entire upper body.

You wanted to scream. But all that came out of your mouth was choked gasps, barely any words or cries. You were crying. You were crying. Yes, you were sure of it.

There was a sharp prick against your neck.

And in the next second, it was like you were falling out of the world and back into the blackness.

Falling.

Falling.

Eventually, you would hit the ground…

And Jake Sully would wake up.

[fatuismooches]

HIII OH MY GOD im sorry for sending another one but i was just in the bathroom cleaning up and an idea fucking struck me. (yeah, bright ideas always hit me while i shower)

im thoroughly convinced that zandik, at some point, genuinely believed that you didn't love him. it was probably a year into your relationship after hitting on him for too long in the akademiya.

then, zandik got his hands on a book about manipulation tactics and shit, and he read a portion about pretending to be nice and loving just to gain something from him.

and hence him kicking you out and screaming profanities at you, saying that you don't truly love him. yeah, i know, brash decision by zandik. his older self truly regrets it and doesn't know what he would do in his life if you weren't persistent enough to keep reaching out to him. but to younger zandik, it just made sense.

how could someone like you could ever love him? he knows that sometimes you think he's going a bit too far with his experiments, you call him crazy (in an adoring way ofc), you sometimes look at him in fear as well. you have to be pretending, it just can't be. he has spent all his life unloved, outcasted, hated and feared- he can't comprehend such a wonderful thing such as love would ever be something he'd truly experience, deserve.

zandik stood his ground with his decision, glaring at the wall as you knock on the door repeatedly, asking what was wrong. then when he hears you curse under your breath, sounding mad, his heart fucking breaks.

and it just sinks in that he did something incredibly stupid and probably hurt your feelings for acting out. he's just so not used to being loved, and even if a year has passed, he still can't wrap his head around it.

really, you only got mad from the other side of the door is because your groupmates saw you and began walking towards you after you escaped to hang out with zandik...

dw you make up eventually if you're determined enough to prove that you genuinely love him!! (i mean cmon, it's not that hard. just point out that you literally cook him, wrestle him from his desk and onto his bed to sleep, go on illegal expeditions with him and all you wanted from him was kisses, hugs and affirmations of his love for you)

IM LITERALLY COMBUSTING FROM THIS BECAUSE IT'S LITERALLY SO TRUE AND I LOVEEE THE WAY YOU DESCRIBED IT,, WHY HAVE U DONE THIS TO ME.

I'm thoroughly convinced that as well, and from his perspective it makes sense considering he went his whole life without receiving any kind of genuine love (which he grew not to care about anyway) and any kind of sweet words directed at him would usually have some kind of ulterior motive or to get on his good side... He's a very cynical person and even after a while the whole situation just baffles him. Not to mention sometimes Zandik himself has trouble understanding that he truly loves someone else and that this isn't just one big lie... it's hard for him to process it all.

Ugh you just know he'll be researching relationships and shit just so he can justify thinking this way and then he gets to a portion to be wary of your partner possibly being fake and manipulating you. And then he just goes haywire on you and you're just like "wtf are you even talking about" and Zandik's literally just going off on you without letting you get in a word. (I bet the clones cringe whenever they remember this moment too 💀 just bring up this moment in an argument and dramatically walk away and he'll feel a bit bad which is more than he should be capable of)

Zandik tries his best to ignore your heartbroken and confused expression - surely you must be faking it, he thinks as he slams the door in your face. This just must be one of your games again, and now that you've been called out you don't know what to do, he tries to convince himself. Your frantic knocks were just a scheme to play with whatever heart he had left. Because in no world, no universe, would you ever love someone like him. He knows he shouldn't be considered human anymore, he's a monster, and surely you see that too. The one who had been with him for ages, the closest one to him. Zandik doesn't understand - you have nothing to gain from being with him. It was 99% an act. Yes, 99%, because he was secretly clinging onto the 1% chance it was real.

And the 1% chance beat all odds when he heard how genuinely pissed and upset you were from behind the door, which was both a fortunate and unfortunate thing - the former because he knew you really loved him, the latter because even he realized that he fucked up big time. But Archons Zandik, out of all possible times, you had to do this when it was the time you were trying to avoid your annoying classmates 😔

On a more angsty note, you might start cursing back at him about all the reasons you love him and why you stay with him and just end it with the fact you're going to be staying somewhere else now, and it's up to him if he wants to see you again, because you ain't doing this again without some kind of apology. A few days later you come back with a whole fucking research paper about every little thing you've ever done for him and why you love him with a whole-ass explanation and just chuck it right at him and dip.

Thankfully present-day Dottore doesn't pull these kinds of stunts anymore and is much, much more secure and confident in the relationship (which is good cuz sometimes you wanted to slap him for being an idiot) Both of you are just glad you can look back on it and laugh (mostly you because Dottore hates thinking about the times he acted completely braindead)

[justjams2003]

Can you write a dark!Thor fic, with fem!reader (Medieval AU), where the reader is taken as a slave, when her village was destroyed. I LOVE your writing so you can do whatever plot or theme you want :)whenever you can. I hope you're safe and I wish you a great day/night. xxx

Sweet Savagery

So... I loved this request so much! And it gave me so many ideas and motivation that I decided to make this a series! Hope you enjoy it!

Paring: Dark!Thor Odinson x Slave!Reader

Summary: All your life, Thor's blue eyes have haunted you. You believed you outran him, but now all your hopes come tumbling down.

Warnings: Death of loved ones, violence, nightmares, non-con, p in v, degradation. Tell me if I missed any.

Word count: 2k+, Unedited

1st Divider by: @firefly-graphics

2nd Divider by: @cafekitsune

Are you cursed by the Gods? Or is it entirely only him? You were only just a small thing when it happened. The violently blue lightning striking down on your father’s wheat fields. You can remember it as though it was yesterday. Even after years of trying to forget.

When the dark consumes you, the light of the colossal fire takes over your mind. Your mama had scolded you just the same evening, pleading with you not to wander too far into the forest. Repeatedly saying that she wanted you home before sundown.

Like always, your mind floated into the sky, only to be vehemently struck down to earth, by that lightning bolt.

The one that started it all. Your little legs carried you as fast as you could, and still, the flames had engulfed the little farmhouse you had lived on for so long. The wall of fire had long since cleared any sign there ever was of your family’s only income. Leaving only a black streak of ash as it made its way further into the village.

If only you could’ve cried so much that it put out the fire. If only it didn’t burn down Aunty Cathy’s house, who was practically your second mother. Or the local baker’s house, who always gave you a free loaf, unable to resist your doe-eyes. Or even the blacksmith’s house, which you only saw on occasion. At least you knew him.

There are a lot of regrets surrounding that night. The most prevalent one is; not listening to your mother. The gods might have been merciful and have let you die with your parents. They might have spared you from looking into those blue eyes. The same shade of blue that caused this all.

The fire still roared; the moon was full and round; even the stars twinkled and yet those aggressively blue eyes lit up the dark of the night more than any of the previously mentioned. You remember the fear that surrounded you, praying to the gods you knew at the time, that those eyes weren’t searching for you in the night.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if the man with the eyes was the one to cause the lightning. Or maybe you were cursed by the gods. If they were laughing in their ivory towers at the cruel joke of a coincidence.

At that time, you thought that these deaths would be the worst of your worries. That those eyes wouldn’t surround every part of your fate. The gods did laugh.

Thieves found you hiding in the woods. They tied you up and used you as they saw fit. Only to grow tired of you, purely just because you became too old for them and sold you off to a slave trader. Which is where you find yourself now. Just barely clothed, waiting in the throne room.

Your bones are clattering and you’re unsure if it’s from the cold or utter fear. You’ve heard many stories of this deranged king. Crimes are punished harshly in a superfluous manner. The circles from which you’ve spent your formative years, the best thieves on the globe, could only speak in terrified tones.

And when they did, they spoke of a man who defies god’s creation. Some even mentioned that the fates and time itself dare not touch him. A king, with the stature of a giant, unmissable and unmistakable. The people who made other people shake in their boots, questioned if this king is just maybe an ancestor of the Titans.

Bred to raise an army and challenge the gods' thrones.

Judging by the extreme size of the throne, all rumours seem to be true. With each passing moment, your anxiety only grew. Until, finally, you can feel the vibrations through the floor. Slow and steady steps, no need to rush. Each of the slaves would stand there waiting for however long they are told to.

The doors open, again; slow. The men that enter are huge, yes, but none compare to him. The king, no doubt. Nevertheless, his size is the least of your worries. All you can see is that night flashing before your eyes once more, the same eyes.

What scares you most is that you haven’t made up his power, or just how much his eyes remind you of storms. His gaze follows from your far left until it finally lands on you. The storms in his eyes are steady, he remains stoic and unreadable.

The room stays silent. His gaze does not move from you, but he does. You can hear his throne creak, which now looks small in relation to former imaginations. Your eyes meet the floor and soon after his perfectly polished boots. He doesn’t dare look as silly as the other kings, with no tights and no pointy shoes.

His breath is heavy, you can’t help but fear breathing. He towers over you, and you can feel his gaze burning holes through your skull. Suddenly his hand grips you by the neck, forcing you to meet him face to face. At first, he seems to scan your body, what for, only the gods know.

Then finally his eyes meet yours. If he recognises you, he certainly doesn’t show it. He gives nothing away. At the same time, it feels like those blue eyes are burrowing themselves deeper into your mind. As if he’s saying, “Remember. Remember what I did? I fucking loved it.”

The king lets go and the second he does your shackles are undone. Maids shuffle all around you and the last you see of him is his blood-red cloak dragging across the floor.

You can hear the slave trader audibly sigh in relief. You can hear the few coins that your life and body was traded for being handed to him. That’s it, it seems. The end.

Once more, you feel barren. Exposed in the little amount of clothes you were given. This is his chambers? You wouldn't be able to tell it from any other room in the castle. To such a degree that you wouldn't be able to see a difference from any other bedroom in any other castle in the world. It's almost entirely empty.

There is no smell that lingers, no portraits, no trinkets. There is no soul. It's kept pristinely clean, so much so that you wouldn't even know a man of his size stays here. The bed, yes, is huge to match his stature, but the bedding is one you would expect from any other.

A sudden thump erupts in the room, this causes you to jump. His hammer, his weapon of choice hits the ground. The wooden floor is dented, in the spot you presume where the hammer is placed every night. Once again, he's quiet, yet somehow you know exactly what to do when he turns his back to you.

Your hurried, shuffling steps can be heard across the oak floor. Like the mouse running to the cat. You unclip his blood-red coat from his steel shoulder plates. Now, after the initial shock, you can truly take in all that is him.

His blonde luscious hair that falls just below his shoulder is kept loose. It’s covered in dirt and grime but still, somehow it looks like golden threads, each placed perfectly. You then unbuckle the mentioned shoulder plates. They each carry a heavy weight from their sheer size. You fold it all neatly together and place it by the cupboard next to the door.

The mighty king turns to you, and with one quick shrug, he throws off his shirt. Could he indeed be a giant? Was he made to overthrow the gods? Or perhaps he was made by the gods himself, made alluring and beautiful to gain the human's trust.

You've experienced the lies of beauty before. Beauty earns trust that years of friendship can't compare to. Just the same, it stabs you in the back. At least with beauty, there's a pretty sight while you bleed.

Heavy footsteps shake you from the past, his presence forcing you all the way with your knees against the bed. The king's hand engulfs your neck, all around. He's warm against your icy skin, your body leans against him, for the heat. At the same time your mind fights, fights the need to give in and want this.

The man in front of you bends his neck low, his nose grazing from your collarbone all the way to your ear. A sudden storm begins to rumble in his chest, shivers form up and down your body as he speaks his first words to you.

"I know who you are." A rash of emotions hits your mind. He knows. He knows. He knows. The words reply in your head. The little hope you had that he would use you as just another whore is defenestrated. His wrath is not limited by time and his grudge will not fall.

"I remember that night. How can I forget how your parents screamed?" It's as if he chuckled, but at the same time, it can be heard as a growl. Like that of a clap of thunder. "They begged and pleaded for me to save your life."

The cruel king takes the thin straps of your night dress and pushes them off your shoulders and onto the floor. The wind sweeps through the windows, cold air making your body perk up.

"I was merciful, was I not?" That same cold air clashes with his hot breath. Now comes the time to decide. Would it be worth it to run?

Is there a point? He-His hot tongue is pressed against the base of your neck. It follows the curve of your tendons all the way up to your lips. "Now you must pay the debt of your life." Those plump lips ghost against your own. -He will catch you. "Yes, my king."

He is not soft; you have decided so. The thoughts that swim behind those icy-blue eyes, those which the world cannot see, do not contain mercy.

Yet, somehow, his hands are soft on your upper arms. “You will learn to love it.” He furrows his brows ever so slightly. The corners of his mouth are pulled down, just barely. As though he is seeing your future, the future he will cause, and is somehow saddened by it.

As if he suddenly realises that he’s shown more than the rock wall around his heart, he twists you around and throws you on the bed. You can hear his bottoms hit the floor and know it’s started.

His hands are rough, and huge, surrounding all of your waist. And just like every other part of him, his cock is immense. And in one harsh stroke, he impales your insides. There is no possible way to hold back the gasp that escapes your lips.

Your hands grip the sheets and already, you can feel the tears form in your eyes. On top of all that, he grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you even further down on him.

Sweat beads down your back after many violent thrusts. Grunts escape from the man, but not another word. There is no halting the moans that free themselves from your body.

Not soon after you can feel his dick grow even bigger somehow. His legs pull himself closer to yours and the liquids between your bodies soon are joined by steaky loads of cum.

Everything rocks and shakes your body. Your legs are raw and littered with bruises from the brutal beat of bodies. There are red marks all over your back and an ache in your shoulder.

Exhaustion is heavy weight forcing you down onto the mattress. Fire burns between your legs when he pulls himself from you. He seems to lay you down gently, still on your stomach.

You can feel his hot breath on your back. In contrast to the earlier savage fuck, he places gentle kisses on your neck. His beard tickles your skin, and you can feel his long hair graze against you.

“Thor. You may call me Thor.” You furrow your brows but before you can protest, the giant man is gone. Not that it matters, fatigue has taken over you and like every time before the dark is filled with bright blue eyes.

[specksizedgoddess]

Finally, FINALLY I'm writing again- Bit of context: this one is kind of a personal fantasy of mine- VERY self indulgent :3

This one is a bit shorter, just an introduction to the characters-

THIS STORY CONTAINS: Disgusting NEET girls, a tiny girl who is FAR too eager to serve, lesbians

"Are you gonna stare all day, or what?"

The tiny girl's focus was broken, trying to stammer out and apology as her owner glanced down, baggy eyes narrowing in on her tiny frame. Sitting awkwardly against an empty energy drink can, the little woman barely measured up to an inch tall- probably less, to be honest. She had been so focused on her game she didn't even notice the little slut staring at her with that same dumb, awe-struck expression.

"S- sorry goddess!"

The gamer took a sharp breath inward- god, it felt good... when she had first found the little lesbian, she had jokingly mentioned how she was like a god to her... the past week had been a blur of praise and worship, and she had to admit... being called goddess felt good.

The tiny girl's breath caught a little as she bit her lip... god, she adored her owner. She adored her goddess... in reality, her "deity" was a disgusting, barely functioning NEET who spent more time in her gaming chair then anywhere else... her room was BLANKETED in her scent, a cocktail of sweat, musk, gas and rancid smells that had built up... and somehow, every little breath made her heart race. God, she was so lucky...

"You're hopeless, you know that?"

The words caused a small moan to escape the tiny lady's lips, her captor simply rolling her eyes at the noise.

"T- thank you goddess!"

The larger woman's chest felt tight... she would never admit it, but this was her dream... she spent so many nights getting off, touching herself, whimpering at the thought of being worshipped, of breaking and using tiny pets- funny, she never imagined it would actually happen.

"Fuck, you're cute... tell me, dork, is there anything you WOULDN'T do for your goddess?"

The tiny woman shook her head eagerly.

"N- no! I'm yours... I would let you do anything to me.... if it makes my owner happy, I'll do it..."

Truth be told... she had her own motivation. All her little fantasies come true... She had been watching her goddess for a while... touching herself, imagining herself "helping" as a plaything... smeared against her grimy, disgusting cock... shoved up her rancid, twitching pucker.... placed on the seat of her chair during long gaming sessions... every inch of her was perfect, from her feet up to her unwashed, ragged hair... she had spent so much time just watching and staring... even she knew she was a bit of a pervert, her nights spent touching herself to the thought of being between those supple cheeks, experiencing EVERY part of her... little thing didn't shy away from and aspect of her owner...

"Keep staring, dweeb. It's cute."

No need to tell her twice. Her eyes had been fixed on her owner for a while, and she wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon. She knew the woman wasn't actually a deity, but at her smaller size, it was hard to view her as anything but a goddess... it was hard to remember her actual name- now that she was thinking about it... it was hard to remember her own name...

She didn't mind. All she knew was she was a pet, and that she was lucky enough to serve goddess <33

[lamnwar]

Hiii! It was me! Can i request nijimura x fem Reader? Reader was kouhai and bottle girl in teiko. Reader and nijimura became close because she often bring food or snack to practice. Thank you!

hi babe!!! 💕💕 I'm so so sorry I took this long, my laptop crashed when I was halfway through writting it and I had to wait for it to get repaired to go back to writing 😭 ANYWAYS! thank you so so much for requesting Nijimura!! He's so underrated and deserves all the love <33

When Our Spring Comes // Nijumura Shuzo x fem! Reader

Context: in which you're Nijimura's junior at Teiko, and you slowly fall for each other <3

Warnings: none! obvs it's set in middle school so it's very soft and cute and I felt like an old lady experiencing teenage love for the first time while writing it 😭

Spring has always been a bittersweet period of the year to you. When you were just a kid, it always struck you as the time where you’d be separated from your former classmates as you got to graduate and move to the upper class – and oh, was it dreadful to be separated from the group of friends you’ve built over the previous school year! Then you grew a little bit, always hoping to grow more so you awaited spring, the new classes, just a proof that you weren’t a kid anymore.

This spring, though, is rather something you dread. It’s coming quite soon – in 4 weeks from now, so it’s maybe too late for you to worry about it. But the stinging feeling in your stomach that you get every time you think of the future creeps in the minute your eyes meet Shuzo’s. He smiles, unaware of the turmoil inside of your mind. For all you know, he only thinks of you as his cute junior, here at every practice and every match, the nicest smile on your face as you hand your players a bottle of water and sweet words of motivation.

When you first enter Teiko Middle School, the basketball club was the last club you’d ever think of entering. Well, for one, basketball wasn’t quite a passion of yours, and if it was really up to you, you would have integrated a club that matches your interests better. It just happened that you fell sick on the week of club admission, hence missing the deadline and having to choose between integrating the basketball club or the Korean cinema club – which was way too niche for you. Only when you stepped foot inside the gymnasium did you understand that basketball was a big deal in Teiko; well, what other middle school team has three strings of players?

Shuzo Nijimura raised an eyebrow the first time he saw you. Polite and friendly, but definitely less passionate than the crowd of enraged teenage boys he’s used to. Though you clearly did not hide the fact that you weren’t there 100% on your own will, you still attended to your simple task of water girl and, occasionally, snack girl.

So, he’s come to know you, his cute junior. You were always there, so nice to talk to, taking notice of all these little things about the players as you spent more time amongst the team. Standing in the sideline next to him as he took his breaks, looking at the others in training. But the first time Shuzo held a proper conversation with you was during a random afternoon practice, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was in deep reflection, eyes fixed on the first years’ – some of which were your classmates – play. You followed his gaze, somewhat understand what could get him so intrigued with these boys. Despite being in the same team for a little more than two months at this point, the sight of their play never failed to stun whoever watched them.

“Say, you know Murasakibara pretty well, don’t you?” He asked, and you remember jumping a little bit when he talked to you.

“Yeah, we were in the same primary school. Weird guy, I’d say, but who am I to judge?” you chuckled.

Atsushi Murasakibara has always been a strange guy, for all the years you’d known him. You weren’t a friend of him, not even sure if he even knew your name given how disconnected with the world he was, but you were always observant, always knowing people without really knowing them.

“Man…” your captain sighed. “He makes me mad. I was hoping you’d have some tips on how to handle him.”

You raised an eyebrow, not quite sure how he’d come to think you would know.

“When I have a tough time with one of the boys, I usually try to find a way to get to them, make things easier.” He explained. “I don’t wanna say I can read people or something like that, but your classmates are tough nuts to crack.”

“Yeah, these boys… can’t say they’re your average players.”

“Right? I don’t mind having strong players in the team since they make us win, but it’s not all about the games now, is it?”

You shrugged.

“I guess.”

“Yeah, so I’m trying to decipher them one by one. Aomine’s easy, I just had to ask Satsuki. Midorima is fairly approachable, even though I don’t know many 12 years old who take themselves so seriously. And Akashi’s fine, too. But Murasakibara…”

He trailed, and you laughed a bit at the look on his face – one you’d seen quite often on your parents’ face that could clearly read “what am I going to do with that child?”

“Well Atsushi really isn’t that complicated. Not that I know him that well, but he can be bribe with snacks, if that helps.”

“Snacks?”

“Uh-huh. He becomes pretty obedient in exchange for snacks. He likes those kelp chips.”

He let out a soft laugh, then looked at you, and that was also the first time you saw Shuzo’s smile directed to you. Deep in your ribs, you felt your heart jump.

It’s been two years since then. You didn’t expect things to evolve like that. Back then, you would have never seen yourself being by Shuzo’s side even outside of the basketball court. Yet here you are. The last cold breezes of winter disheveling your hair as you try to fix it, in vain. Shuzo’s by your side, chuckling as he sees you struggle. You’ve always been jealous of how his hair never moves. Even when he’s running all around the court, his thick bangs are stable, if not for a few drops of sweat that make them appear a bit thinner. You tsk, Shuzo playfully ruffling your hair. Your heart skips a beat, but you keep it from beating to fast by breathing long and slow.

“Say, captain – “

“Told you not to call me that.” He mumbles in his scarf. “Not your captain, barely your superior in any way.”

“It’s a force of habit.”

“I know.”

“Well, I kinda liked the team better under your mandate.” You chuckle, reminiscing your first year as Teiko’s water girl. The team was something else, back then.

“Hm…” he laughs softly, “but you still love your team.”

“So do you, Shuzo.”

You smile as you watch him blush. He’s never been one to openly admit how much Teiko’s basketball team means to him, but you’ve known him long enough to see the pride in his eyes as he watches his juniors bring yet another victory to your school. You were there, the day he demoted from his position of captain; you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, you were just on your way to the teacher’s room when it happened. You never told him, though, that you’ve heard the whole conversation with coach Sanada. Even if you can understand his reason, you firmly believe that he’s the only one capable of keeping the Generation of Miracles at bay. He has that calm, commanding nature, somewhat nurturing despite its rough aspect. But at the end of the day, your opinion doesn’t matter much.

Anyways, he’s not here for long. One month, you counted. And then he’ll move on, and you’ll be left with no… no him around anymore. The realisation hit you, and you try to supress it but it’s hard. You wish he was around longer, would have made your life brighter. You sigh, nudging his shoulder gently.

“You’ll keep playing in high school, right?” you ask as you both stop at a crossway.

“Depends on my dad’s health.”

Ah, yes. That. You suddenly feel bad for your selfish feelings. Doesn’t matter how you feel about him, as your captain or as a person, his decisions weren’t made thoughtlessly. Shuzo loves his dad maybe more than he’s willing to show. You’ve realized it when he would take some extra snacks that you’ve made for practice, telling you that his dad would love these and he’d take them to the hospital on his next visit. So, on those days you’d have these special snacks, you’d sneak a little pouch of them in his bag. He never said a word about it, but you’d see his face the next day when he’d tell you about his visit to his dad. You don’t have to ask; he’ll just tell you if he feels like it. And every time, you’ll lend an ear.

“Man…” you tsk.

He raises his eyebrows, surprised by your sudden exclamation. While he looks at you, you deviate your gaze to your gloves-covered hands.

“Don’t wanna think about how you’ll probably find yourself another water girl wherever you’re going after Teiko.”

He’s silent for a few seconds, before the soft sound of his laugh creeps into your ears. Your efforts to hide your blushing face in your scarf reveals itself to be a failure; it’s ok, right? He’ll probably think it’s the cold, right?

“I won’t replace you, you know. I don’t think I can.”

“Huh?”

It’s your turn to stare at him dumbfounded. Shuzo’s face is surprisingly serene, despite the weight of his words. To your heart, it sounds like a confession, but you’d be a fool to bet on that. Being friends is all you ever are, never more. It’s an insane possibility, yet…

“I’ll miss you, you know, when I’ll be in high school.”

He stops, looking at the sky. It’s clear and blue, far from the storm brewing in his body. Shuzo Nijimura has never been vocal about his feelings, let alone those of such softness. The confidence with which he’s uttered these words stuns him first; but his heart is about to burst at any moment.

“Well… we don’t have to part ways either.” You mumble.

“You mean that?”

You nod. He’s silent. He’s never thought of that as an option. But now that you’ve said it, he’s struck by the sudden realisation that he’s absolutely an idiot.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?” you look up at him, confused.

“You’re receiving a promotion, if you accept it.” He looks away for a second, before facing you with the kind of determination he only shows on the basketball court.

A small smile paints itself on your face, seeing his fists rolled in ball like he’s about to fight you. Well, he’s rather fighting himself.

“I’ll promote you. From my water girl to my girlfriend. Would you like that?”

“Eh?!”

The look on your face would normally make him laugh, but he rather not. If anything, he’s on the verge of cardiac arrest. Mere seconds have passed, but it feels like you’re taking forever to give him an answer. But then you do.

“I’d like that, yeah.”

Shuzo’s arms are quick to wrap around you, pushing you in a tight embrace while you take a minute to reciprocate the hug. His erratic heartbeats resonate through your body as it sinks in just how much this entire moment means for him. You close your eyes, humming against his chest.

“God, I’m so glad you didn’t reject that lame confession.”

You laugh, daring to leave a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Like I ever would, captain.”

He follows your words with a heartfelt chuckle, one that feels warm like those late winter sunrays that kiss your face right now.

And in this moment, the thought of spring coming has your heart blooming.

[asukiess]

💪?

hi luka!! 🥰

💪What motivates you to write?

I guess I don't exactly... know.

I remember last year there was a period where I was like, alright, let's give it up; you're practicing art anyway, do you need to write & publish? with a job and partnership and everything else, do I need to "waste time" staring at a doc with only 500 words written over a few hours?

so I went a week or two, and let my mind do other things, and I'd get a line or two of pretty prose in my head and I'd be like, ah, that's nice, but I guess I don't need to write it down.

but then I did anyway! and I was like okay, well, I don't need to make a story of it. and that's true anyway, like sketches in a sketchbook yknow.

but then I was like, why am I writing it down? is that "writing" as much as sketching is? just for the fun? stringing words together?

I think the long and short of it is that I just enjoy writing! I don't think my stuff is particularly everyone's cup of tea, and in some ways they're very morose or kind of nothing stories. looking at stats/ratios can also be a motivation killer. half the time, I wonder who wants to see the lovesquare in these situations lol.

but I really like when I get struck by some kind of creative force and a sunny day by the window sounds best spent with my laptop and google docs open.

I think on another strong note is that I remember fics I read from over a decade ago that comforted me at the time. I think about stories I wrote a decade + ago that felt comforting to write. and I think about maybe my stories being that for someone, too! maybe not now, but maybe years and years from now.

(ask game)

[mysecretwindowuniverse]

"Remember when I told you you'd come around? You didn't believe me , silly little bird," "Jerome . . ."

This is cartoonishly late - like, this was originally supposed to be posted on Valentine's Day. Suffice to say, it's been a bit of an unexpectedly arduous journey to get this finally posted.

Back in the beginning of the year I spent about a month on this in total, from inception to completion. I'd just about finished, all the main piece needed were the final touches when my fiance got me sick. And I mean sick; hadn't been that ill in years, and I ended up losing more than a damn week to what turned out to be RSV. And subsequently missed Valentine's Day.

No big deal, I thought, I'll post it by the end of February.

Nope.

The setback of getting RSV turned out to only be the first in a line of setbacks, from getting sick a grand total of three more fucking times (not including the unrelenting menace that is allergies), unforeseen, extensive travel during the spring, followed by anxiety/existential dread over AI and the seeming impossibility to protect your artwork and the bitter hopelessness of the situation. So that kept me from posting. And then, to top everything off, came the travel-sickness-burnout-induced unexpected hiatus taken from this blog.

So yeah, it's been a long road.

But finally I was able to finish this piece - my first (completed) Gotham fanart! My original goal had been to post a semi-corresponding fanfic alongside the fanart, but on account of the aforementioned setbacks and a serious writer's block, that's going to have to wait. I'm still working on it! - but it's completion is seriously TBD.

In truth, I haven't done artwork this intensive in literal years, and it's been really great to get back into it. Like, I really threw myself into this; the urge to create just struck out of nowhere, and I fortunately had the time (and motivation) needed to see this piece through to the bitter end. And honestly? I'm really happy with how they came out!

Of course it's jeromewald, at this point, is it even a surprise, lol? What it says on this blog's header remains true - I do ship both nygmobblepot and jeromewald equally, but (both fortunately and unfortunately) of those ships, one already has an ocean's worth of phenomenal content, whereas the other is far more niche. So I figure it's best to create for the far smaller pair, supply what fresh content I can, and do my part to help keep this lovely fandom alive!

Can you tell I had Thnks Fr th Mmrs on a loop while making this?

'He tastes like you only sweeter' is an insane thing to say, and I feel it really fits a jeromewald x nygmobblepot love triangle. 'The love triangle from hell', one of my favorite things and the hyperfixation that has had me in a chokehold for years.

The pose is shamelessly inspired by that one Batman Catwoman cover (issue No. 9)

I can't say when the next fanart will be posted, but I am working on at least four others at the moment, so fingers crossed the creativity gods smile upon me and I'm able to churn more out over the next few months!

[misirosekisiro]

Deepest Disire 3-

Chapter 3

As days turned into weeks, he spent countless hours perfecting every aspect, honing his strategy for maximum impact. Observing Kaoru's routine keenly, he identified weak points and vulnerabilities which he could exploit for his advantage.

&nbsp;He studied Kaoru’s habits so thoroughly that he seemed to possess a sixth sense when predicting his friend's movements.

One day, while sitting in his dimly lit office poring over spreadsheets detailing expenses and investments, a sudden idea struck him. Smiling mischievously, he quickly dismissed work and began mapping out the intricate scheme he had been dreaming of since acquiring the Skin Suit Drug.

&nbsp;Naoki's plan involved manipulating events in ways that ensured Kaoru would inevitably encounter the mystical substance.

Utilizing his skillfully designed web of influence, he orchestrated meetings and situations that would lead Kaoru directly into temptation's arms. And thus, subtly planting the seed of curiosity about the Skin Suit Drug, priming him to taste its alluring powers.

Unbeknownst to Kaoru, Naoki secretly arranged opportunities for them to spend quality time together, creating the ideal circumstances for seduction. With Kaoru unaware of the extent of Naoki's machinations, it wasn't long before the trap snapped shut tightly.

On one seemingly ordinary evening, Naoki invited Kaoru to his apartment under the guise of discussing a potential business opportunity. Little did Kaoru suspect that his friendship was about to collide headlong with the enigmatic world of the Skin Suit Drug.

Once inside Naoki's immaculate abode, Kaoru became captivated by the impressive collection of sports memorabilia and framed posters, revealing Naoki's passion for athletics.

However, amidst the engaging surroundings, Kaoru sensed an undeniable tension in the air, suggesting unspoken burdens borne by his host. Intrigued by the dichotomy presented before him, Kaoru decided to probe further into Naoki's motivations behind hosting this meeting.

"What exactly brought us here tonight, Naoki?" queried Kaoru, breaking the initial uneasy silence.

Unwilling to divulge too much information just yet, Naoki kept his response vague but nonetheless piqued Kaoru's interest significantly.

"I have a proposition that might benefit both of us greatly, my dear friend." Naoki revealed, slowly lowering his eyes, conveying a mix of apprehension and determination. His tone implied hidden depths that captured Kaoru's attention completely.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Kaoru probed deeper, eager to discover the source of his friend's unusual behavior.

"And why exactly does your proposal involve me being here today?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Naoki hesitated briefly, choosing his words carefully before finally speaking. "My proposition involves something called 'mystical drug,' a unique compound capable of transforming anyone into another person physically. It could grant someone newfound strength or agility based on the individual they choose to become. Imagine the possibilities it offers — revolutionary advancements in personal growth, career development, even romantic encounters!" he continued animatedly, clearly invested in the concept.

Feeling his heart race, Kaoru absorbed the significance of Naoki's revelation.

The possibility of harnessing such power held immense appeal, evoking feelings of excitement mixed with a lingering touch of doubt. Slowly, however, curiosity emerged victorious, prompting Kaoru to express genuine interest in learning more about this intriguing phenomenon.

Pleased by Kaoru's enthusiasm, Naoki took a deep breath, relieved that he managed to spark his friend's curiosity effectively. "Indeed,&nbsp;mystical drug is an incredible force to be reckoned with, offering boundless potential to those fortunate enough to experience it.

Tell me, how did you come across such a groundbreaking discovery?" questioned Kaoru with great curiosity.

Eager to share his findings, Naoki proceeded to elaborate upon the origins of Skin Suit, recounting tales steeped in mystery and danger.

"A few months ago, I stumbled upon a group of shadowy figures peddling the substance through illicit channels," explained Naoki. "It hails from an unknown region shrouded in obscurity, accessible only via a network of well-guarded entryways.

However, I managed to secure a sample recently," said Naoki, displaying a hint of pride. "This rare elixir isn't easily available, nor cheap either. My entire savings went toward purchasing it. But believe me, Kaoru, it's worth every last yen!"

Kaoru listened intently, trying to grasp the full magnitude of what Naoki was proposing. This situation felt like a fantastical tale coming to life right before his very eyes.

The allure of transformation proved difficult to ignore, and Kaoru struggled against his own curiosity. Convinced that there must be some truth behind Naoki's claims, he agreed to give it a try. If anything, it would make for an interesting adventure!

Naoki grinned triumphantly, pleased with the progress made. He had successfully gained Kaoru's support, securing permission to proceed with his ambitious plans. All that remained was to ensure Kaoru didn't change his mind once fully informed of the risks associated with the&nbsp;mystical drug.

Unperturbed by these dangers, Kaoru pushed aside his fears, convinced that the potential benefits far outweighed the possible drawbacks. Embracing his inherent adventurous spirit, he sought a thrill unlike any other he had previously encountered.

For several minutes, Naoki patiently answered Kaoru's queries regarding safety protocols and precautions necessary during administration of the potion. Once satisfied with Naoki's reassurance, Kaoru signaled his readiness to embark on this perilous expedition.

Feeling confident in his decision, he prepared mentally for the extraordinary experiences awaiting him.

Understanding the gravity of the situation, Naoki gathered essential equipment required for administering the&nbsp;mystical drug, ensuring utmost accuracy and precision. He carefully selected various instruments and tools specifically tailored to facilitate safe extraction and consumption of the potion.

Embracing the imminent challenge, Kaoru felt his blood pumping faster, anticipating the remarkable transformation lying ahead.

Standing beside Naoki, who now appeared unusually excited, the atmosphere buzzed with palpable energy. Their camaraderie intensified, bonding them even closer than before. Both friends recognized the enormity of the venture looming before them and acknowledged the sacrifices required to see it through.

Naoki opened a small vial containing the coveted liquid, admiring its viscous fluid within. Handing it gingerly to Kaoru, he gave him detailed instructions on how to consume the&nbsp;mystical drug properly without incident.

Cautioning Kaoru repeatedly about potential side effects, including temporary memory loss and bodily discomfort, Naoki stressed the importance of precise measurement and gradual dosage increase. After comprehending the process thoroughly, Kaoru nodded resolutely, ready to begin the journey.

Following Naoki's advice, Kaoru approached the mirror situated nearby, gazing at his reflection critically. Steadfastly focused on the task at hand, he drew a steady breath, bracing himself for the unexpected changes soon to transpire.

The room fell silent as everyone present waited anxiously, anticipating the dramatic alteration which would soon follow.

Suddenly, Kaoru noticed subtle shifts occurring around him. Colors seemed to shift gradually, appearing brighter and more intense than usual. Objects in front of him blurred slightly, wavering back and forth like heat mirages on hot summer days. Realization dawned upon him – the transformation had begun.

But the transformation wasn't like Kaoru expected. At this moment, his body slowly deflated like a deflated balloon. He looked in the mirror in a panic. His body looked like it had been stripped of its skeleton, slowly collapsing to the ground until he finally transformed into a human bodysuit. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, but could only roll his eyes. He looked in the mirror and saw Naoki who was smiling crazily with satisfaction.

The feeling in his heart sank low, seeing himself turned into a lifeless suit. What kind of monster did Naoki want? Was this what he wanted? Did he actually desire this outcome? Why would anyone wish to strip away their flesh, leaving nothing but bones covered in delicate silk?

His hands were still visible as gloves on the "suit". But he couldn’t move them. Couldn’t feel them anymore. Just two leather gloved appendages attached to his “body”.

Feeling overwhelmed with dread, Kaoru tried to gather his thoughts, while simultaneously battling waves of confusion and resignation. The eerie calm surrounding him amplified the surreal nature of the unfolding events. With difficulty, he managed to convey his turmoil towards Naoki verbally, albeit weakly.

“Why…why did you do this?” Kaoru whispered hoarsely, attempting to mask his horror beneath a facade of bewilderment.

In response, Naoki laughed mockingly, dismissing Kaoru's concerns as mere paranoia.

Naoki took off all his clothes. He then moved forward menacingly, towering over the fragile suit. In spite of his malicious intent, Kaoru observed an undeniably sinister glint in Naoki's eye, causing a chilling sensation to ripple throughout his newly acquired shell.

As if reading Kaoru's thoughts, Naoki began circling the vulnerable object, methodically examining the exquisite craftsmanship displayed so prominently. Adrenaline coursed through Kaoru's veins, his pulse racing madly as he watched helplessly.

Desperately, he strained to free himself from the suffocating confines of his skinsuit prison, fighting valiantly against the impossibility of escape. Frustration swelled inside him as reality struck hard; there would be no reprieve. No salvation lay hidden within reach. His fate lay inextricably intertwined with the malevolence enveloping him.

Meanwhile, Naoki's unwavering confidence in his devious plan further solidified the growing sense of unease engulfing Kaoru.

Naoki began examining "Kaoru's body suit." He pulled it and stretched it with the force of his hand like a thick balloon. Kaoru himself felt no pain. It's like someone grabbed the skin and pulled it while being injected with anesthetic. There was only the feeling of being grabbed and pulled. Then Naoki remembered. He held it to his mouth. He pulled out the "Kaoru Bodysuit" and stretched it out. It stretched wide until Naoki could fit his legs inside. Kaoru felt strange that his own body was being invaded.

While Naoki continued manipulating the bodysuit with relish, Kaoru experienced newfound levels of terror. Tears welled up involuntarily, yet none escaped his tightened facial muscles. He knew any resistance would prove futile, as evidenced by his utter lack of control over his limbs and body. Naoki's legs slipped into Naoki's legs. "Kaoru Bodysuit" At first it was like trying to stuff something too big into a balloon. It inflated, but after a moment it compressed back. Naoki wiggled his toes, and the toes of "Kaoru Bodysuit" moved accordingly. It was like Naoki could use Kaoru's legs like his own. with excitement He quickly stuffed his other leg in. inserted into the leg of "Kaoru Bodysuit" on the other hand and he stood up on Kaoru's legs.

It felt weird to have another person standing up on your legs. Kaoru was shocked because he didn't expect such a thing to happen when they used the "skin suit drug." He looked at his friend stiffly, trying to figure out why he chose this way to go about things. Even though he was trapped in his own body, Naoki's smile filled him with a mixture of rage and despair. His anger boiled within, threatening to erupt despite his impotency.

Naoki tried to put "Kaoru's Bodysuit" continued, he smiled when he saw Kaoru's flattened cock. He slowly guided his cock into hers. "Kaoru Bodysuit" is like a leg. "Kaoru Bodysuit"'s cock swells and stretches out to the point of looking abnormal. But after a moment he squeezed and it turned into Kaorusu's handsome cock again. Kaoru felt a thrill as Naoki's cock slipped inside his cock. It was a thrill that was hard to explain. Despite having had a lot of sex, he had never felt like this before.

Naoki pulled "Kaoru Bodysuit" up from her waist level. "Kaoru Bodysuit's" mouth stretched so much it was threatening to break. But it only stretched. He pulled Kaoru's bodysuit up to his chest and slowly inserted his arms into Kaoru's bodysuit, one at a time. When his hand slipped into Kaoru's hand, The "Kaoru Bodysuit" was a bit difficult as it was like trying to fit his fingers into each hole correctly, but he soon managed to get both of his arms to work. The "Kaoru Bodysuit" was now covering Naokij's body. It's up to my neck. Only the head remains. Naoki looked in the mirror. Saw the body of a young boy with the head of a working man. He tried to move his body, jump, and the more he did it, the more he laughed with satisfaction until he was crazy.

Naoki said, "See! Nothing happened right?" His laughter echoed throughout the quiet room. For Kaoru, every action resulted in failure, sending chills down his spine. Fear gripped him, rendering him immobile save for the tremors wracking his limbs.

Naoki gently pulled the head of "Kaoru Bodysuit" came up. It's like wearing a hood, but it's a hood that has Kaoru's handsome face on it. At first it looked like a bloated head with a deformed face. But after a moment, like the rest, it squeezed itself into place, shaping the face until it was in place. At this very moment Naoki has disappeared. There was only Kaoru standing there. Kaoru stared at the mirror, grinning, laughing hysterically. Then he began to show Kaoru's expressions. The person he had been spying on for years.

For Kaoru, the moment his head was placed on Naoki's head. He felt as if his head was slowly clearing up, all the emotions disappearing, as if someone had rummaged through his brain. Kaoru's identity It seems to fade away He looked expressionlessly at the person who was smiling, dancing, laughing, acting himself. It's like watching a performance from the audience seat.

Kaoru who is locked in his own body. see another kaoru in the mirror who was acting like "Kaoru", he began to ask himself, who was it, himself or who else? The question repeated itself for a long time. His head felt like it was clouded with mist. It's not important anymore... He is sleepy, wants to rest, wants to sleep forever. Kaoru closed her eyes in his imagination and never woke up again.

From this second The old Kaoru has disappeared. Kaoru bodysuit is not more body suit, It's turn in to real skin. no more backward.&nbsp; Just like Naoki This name will never appear again in this world. Only the new Kaoru remains.&nbsp;Even Naoki want to take Kaoru bodysuit off, it's not possible form now on. He goes to pick up Kaoru's clothes that are on the floor and put them on. before walking to the table Picking up paper and pen, he wrote in Naoki's handwriting one last time. He explains that he is deeply in debt. And he wanted to run away, not have to search for him. He writes in a variety of ways, like he might have committed suicide somewhere. He left the letter on the dining table. Use a coin to make sure it doesn't fly away. Kaoru finally walked out the door. Looking back at the room where he had lived for so long and will never come back again He opened the door and walked out. before gently closing the door behind him

. Stepping outside onto the busy streets of Tokyo, he adjusted his jacket, making sure it concealed the faint traces of his past life. Passersby hurried along, paying little attention to him amidst the sea of faces. He blended seamlessly into the crowd as he made his way toward his destination. The sun cast a warm golden light upon the city, creating a picturesque setting for his departure.

[mooifyourecows]

I'm sure someone's asked you this before, but I'm thinking about writing another short fic and I'm wondering what your process is for plotting out your writing? every time I try and write something I always struggle with knowing how to move the plot toward what I want. I'm wondereng if you have a structure you tend to follow? if you've answered this before feel free to tag me in that post or something, but it's been so long since I've written something and I want a good structure to start from. and you're one of my favorite authors so I figured you'd be the best to ask

ideas take time. I'm sure there are some people out there who can get an idea and then spit out a short fic immediately after and it's great and wonderful and amazing but personally, I can't do that. I gotta sit on my ideas and build them over time. even the short ones!

it's just not enough for me to want to write something. i gotta be into it, and i'm not going to get into it unless i've spent considerable time thinking about it and developing it in my head. whether that means building up plot or backstory or just witty banter, I need to have a good feel for the story before i can start writing it. most of the story ideas i come up with never get written. i come up with an idea that i'm into but then i can't brainstorm enough meat in the middle so i either tuck it away in my notes to try and salvage later or i forget it and move on

And that's okay! not every idea is a winner. but it's not a waste of time to come up with them. several of my stories were once ideas that i scrapped because i couldn't motivate myself to get into them. Summer Rain was an original story idea i came up with when i was a teenager that i stuffed into the very back reaches of my brain until years later i got into Haikyuu and dragged it out to rethink it into a fic idea instead. GMB too. Hard Times was a fic I started years ago and then abandoned because I couldn't bring myself to think up what should happen after the initial deal is struck.

when i am actually plotting out a story, i don't really have a structure that i follow. I just think of individual things and jot them down in my notes, then change or add to them as i continue to brainstorm. I mainly focus on the BIG parts, working them out in my head until I like them, and then write the little in between stuff as I go. I am one of those writers that prefers to write by the seat of my pants and it's worked well for me so far but I understand how some people prefer not to do that.

none of my stories come quickly though. For many of the long ongoing ones, i'm coming up with new stuff all the time. I've got a big thing planned for ATEGT that i didn't think of until I was like 15 chapters into it. Summer Rain is nothing like what it was supposed to be when i first started it. Ideas are supposed to change and bulk up over time, so if you give them the time they need, you can think up some really fun, amazing stuff!

Don't rush. I understand the need to write something and post it as soon as possible. There are times that i wish i could just bust out a fast one shot and shoot it out there for people to read but it's just not my style. the people who can do that are awesome and i admire them! but it's just not for me. I need to bat an idea around in my brain for weeks, months, or even years before it becomes anything concrete.

other than that, i don't really have much useful advice for you in this area, unfortunately. Just... take notes. Write down your ideas as soon as you think of them. It's not a contract. You don't have to keep them. I'm constantly jotting an idea down in my notes and then deleting it later because i changed my mind. It's fine! Get loosey goosey with it! it's supposed to be fun! don't stress yourself out with trying to force something thats just not coming. let it come to you freely and you'll be pleasantly surprised by what you think of.

i've also found that it helps for me to write my thoughts down as if i'm telling the idea to a friend. Just working through the plot on the fly from beginning to end. "I've got this new idea. So there's Character A who works at the airport and what they does is this and that. then one day as theyre doing this or that, someone comes through the line and then this thing happens and Character A is like what the heck? but they're cool so they're like hey it's no big deal and Character B is cute so Character A is like hey let's see where this goes, so anyway Character A does this and Character B is like that and after that Character C who is Character A's ex and a total douchenozzle shows up and Character B is like yo i'm gonna help you out and so-" you know? Just... write it out. If you don't know what happens next, say you don't know what happens next. "Some other stuff will happen and their bond will grow you know, like fun romantic and silly things where they learn some stuff about each other but it's clear that Character B is keeping a secret but Character A doesn't want to push them into talking about it so they just pretend like they don't notice and-" etc etc.

Walk yourself through the stuff you HAVE figured out and you might think up some others on the fly too. It helps to see it in a linear fashion. "And then and then and then and then". At least it does for me. Especially since my brain doesn't like to be organized and constantly jumps around to whatever is most interesting at the moment. my friends have gotten long strings of messages from me over the years about story ideas i've come up with and just want to get out to see if they have any real potential. and those are the ones that usually do!

sorry i don't have any real tricks or tips about this stuff. i really am just a sloppy disorganized writer and people probably shouldn't try to emulate me because it's a mess over here, take my word for it 🤦‍♂️

anyway, i wish you luck! You can do it! just make sure you are having fun. your writing should be indulgent and exactly the kind of thing you would want to read. don't think about what other people would want. You're not making a product to sell, you're creating art 🌈

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Talitha Cumi (3x24)

Teena Mulder enters the family summer house she’s sworn to never set foot in again. The scent of musty pine and decades-old furniture is as familiar as it is unsettling. Quonochautaug contains memories of betrayal she has spent far too long trying to forget.

February, 1961

“We can’t,” she husks into his neck as dinner cooks on the stove behind her. Her husband, none the wiser.

“Oh, my dear, we definitely can.”

Apron tossed to the floor and her button down blouse agape, she sighs. “You know I dislike you calling me that.”

“But you are dear to me, Teena.”

Her breath catches.

“This has to stop, Carl. Bill, he… he wants a family.”

Frowning, his tight hold around her hips loosens and his gray-green eyes stare out the window at the rolling Rhode Island tide. “I suppose it's true what they say,” he mumbles. “Everything changes but the sea.” 

Her eyes fall shut as she bends to his will one final time, sliding her palms up his chest, and giving the collar of his shirt a sharp tug. “Not everything,” she breathes.

Carl grins…

Nine months later, Fox William Mulder had come into the world, and Teena’s husband never looked at her quite the same way again. 

The floor creaks beneath her as she scans the plastic-covered rooms, searching. “We need to speak,” Carl had summoned over the phone. “Meet me at the place where it all started.” At first, she scoffed and said she had no desire to see him. But then… then he told her he’d speak to Fox instead, if she’d prefer. So, as coldly as possible, Teena agreed.

The stale scent of cigarettes assaults her as she walks out back.

“It struck me as I was sitting here,” Carl Spender says, still managing to startle her with his presence.

“What?” He looks the same. Still a cunning chain-smoker with ulterior motives and bad ties. It angers her that she was ever enthralled by the allure of him. 

“Everything changes but the sea.”

She nearly cringes at his reference to their intimacy. “What do you want from me?” 

“I thought we might at least allow ourselves to reminisce.”

Reminiscing is the last thing she plans to do. 

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Really? We used to have so much to say to each other, so many good times at the Mulder's summer place.” He smiles that familiar sly smirk. Her stomach churns. “I remember water-skiing down there with Bill. He was a good water-skier, your husband. Not as good as I was but then that could be said about so many things… couldn't it?”

He’s prodding her. Egging her on, manipulating the conversation so he has the upper hand. Just like always, the bastard.

“I've repressed it all,” she lies.

“Well, I find that hard to believe, particularly since I came here today to ask you to remember something.” Fear grips her. “Something I'm going to have to ask you to try very hard to recollect. I’m looking for a small, silver cylinder Bill was known to have possession of. An artifact that could fit in the palm of your hand.” 

Teena shakes her head. Instantly, she knows exactly what he wants. 

Bill had warned her when he’d hidden it within the lamp all those years ago. He’d warned about its importance to his work, about its danger. About how one day, someone who knows of its significance would come looking for it. Someone whom she should never trust. If only Bill had known back then that the untrustworthy person he was referring to would sleep with his wife and father his son. 

She’s sickened with herself at the miasmic hole of secrets she’s inadvertently helped dig for decades. Yes, she holds a lifetime of regrets, but it seems her children have been paying the price for every single one of them.

“It’s important you remember, my dear,” Carl pushes. “For the good of the work.”

“The work,” she snaps, eyes ablaze with repressed rage. “I’m so sick of the work! Sick of the secrets and lies and pain it’s caused. And I’m sick of you most of all!”

“Calm down, Teena!” He glances across the wooded backyard for anyone watching. There’s no one there. Like no one was there thirty-six years ago when he’d hiked up her skirt under the low-hanging tree and made her forget all about the ring on her finger. “You will tell me.”

“I will not! You don’t tell me what to do anymore,” she yells as they pace the yard, her adrenaline rushing. She’d cared for him long ago, but that changed the moment her baby girl disappeared and he didn’t do a goddamn thing to stop it. “I don’t know anything!”

“I think you do!” His hand not cradling his precious cigarette reaches out to grab her arm. “It’s imperative you tell me where it is.”

“How dare you,” she sneers, yanking her arm free. “Go to Hell, Carl!”

After years of internally beating herself black and blue for her mistakes, she has finally accepted that not all her maternal failures are all her fault. Nefarious motives shrouded in half-truths and cover-ups by the men in her life have shaped her to fit a convenient, cowardice mold. To stay silent. To forget. 

And this son of a bitch wants her to remember now?  

She re-enters the house and rounds on him, seething. “Get. Out. Now!”

Reluctantly, he does as she says, but the plume of smoke he leaves behind makes her dizzy. 

Her head throbs intensely and vision blurs as the left side of her body suddenly numbs. Teena reaches out desperately toward the lamp that holds at least one secret she can out for the greater good, but she’s too weak. She collapses onto the dusty hardwood floor, her long limbs crumpling under her like tissue.

Lamp, she thinks, but the word that weakly leaves her lips before darkness claims her is “Fox...”

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

@monikafilefan

[acheronist]

hello!!!! thank you so much for your tarot analysis of our beloved captain dylan ♥️🤍 i am here to say that i will be a devoted audience to any and all drw tarot content (for the next forever) but also specifically to ask about hank being the empress and sergei as the chariot, if you have time 😭 you can’t just “btw” that in the tags and expect us to be NORMAL about it??

omg please.... i am not the oracle of detroit for no reason. i have been pulling season overview tarot spreads + cards for every wings game since 2019. if i'm qualified for ONE thing on this earth it's talking about card associations to players ✋🏻

empress - 40

i know you can find a lot of shit about how the empress is supposed to be about embracing this ~feminine energy~ but i think that's kind of bullshit. i see it more as like.. tending the hearth? and being gentle and loving but still a protector and a teacher? guarding what is beloved and dear to you and carrying yourself with a sense of grace and confidence. which is very much the way hank's captaincy panned out, dont u think?

in the halls of drw captaincy, his was interesting because he wasn't a leader for years and years and years like nick or steve, but he was really crucial to the team in a transitional sort of time. the championship team legends were retiring, new guys were coming in, there was sort of a new identity getting built in the lockerroom? on top of the um *cough* questionable choices kenny holland made as gm? hank's presence on the team as a touchstone through dramatic changes is what always struck me the most about his nhl career. he was a security that fans (new and old!) had absolute faith in. that steadiness is not something you see in every random nhler yknow.

which leads me into the fact that the empress also is a card of creativity. the empress sits with a crown of stars above her head, which ALSO suits hank a lot i think. he was a rookie when nick was captain. he was captain when dylan was a rookie. that's quite a long stretch of time if you stop to think about it. he spent his whole career being surrounded by stars and players with insane levels of creativity and ability to play the game. AND HE HAD THAT ABILITY HIMSELF TOO which is why he lead the forefront of it all. the red wings weren't the red wings without the eurotwins leading them to victories for a long time.

and i think there's a very loving quality to the empress as well, which of course extended to the younger guys in the room, but really shone most bright in the way that hank took dylan under his wing immediately & still is there, post retirement and off the ice, in the way that he still mentors dylan through hard times in the rebuild. i think the passing of that torch was obvious from dylan's first game, and hank did a really beautiful job teaching dylan how to act and grow up and be the kind of captain that's worthwhile, and truly means something in this city. and that devotion / mentor / compassion ties back into the meaning of the empress in a really special way I THINK!!!!!!!!!!!

chariot - 91

oh boy where do i start... even going all the way back to his initial defection from russia, there's always been such a furious independence streak in sergei that i just know it's impossible to tell him to do anything. there's a direction and confidence and borderline audacious(!?) attitude / motivation that's been in his freaky little Sagittarius heart since he was 18. and i think when u boil him down to his barest essential traits, that's one of the more foundational ones!?? and there really is not a card better suited to that attitude than the chariot

there's also something to be said about the chariot card imagery where the driver is being pulled along by the black and white sphinxes.

yeah uh huh. yup.

but also essentially the chariot is about overcoming obstacles, having the willpower and the determination to keep moving forward, the self discipline to get better, etc WHICH ALL I CAN PULL UP QUOTES FOR PRECISELY HOW THESE IDEAS CONNECT BACK TO SERGEI.

defecting from 1990s russia and his whole family and his entire life to go to a country where he didn't speak the language because he had enough confidence in himself to become a star.

growing up learning to skate on frozen rivers until he was a child and able to outskate and outplay adults.

the toughness it took in his heart to go back to the rink every day after his best friend was in critical condition and win something that'll always be bigger and more important than his whole life as an act of devotion.

the way he didn't let getting exiled ruin his career, but instead used it as a doorway to the next great joy of his career.

the way he's only just stopped skating and yet he still is winning back to back cups and achieving records and making history in his own way.

there's a stubborn need to always one-up his own achievements that haunts him soooo bad & you dont have that drive without completely embodying everything that the chariot stands for.

[trashexplorer]

BLCD 2022: October Releases

Legends:

✓ - have      

💡 - interested

✘ - not interested (but will probably still listen to)    

🙏 - dying for

1. Midara na Neko wa Toiki ni Torokeru ✘

Release Date: 2022/10/12

Cast: Nakajima Yoshiki x Saitou Souma *can we have more Ikigami to Donor instead???

Synopsis: Third damn sequel of this damned series. *sigh*

2. Oni to Tengoku 💡 

Release Date: 2022/10/14

Cast: Okitsu Kazuyuki x Komada Wataru

Synopsis: Aoki, a high school teacher, has motivation for little else than expending as little effort as possible. After being scolded by a senior teacher, he goes to the infirmary to check on a student that has been skipping class. There he shares his first real conversation with the eerily perceptive school nurse, Tengoku Manabu.

3. Goshisou Omega wa Chuu to Naku ✘

Release Date: 2022/10/19

Cast: Okitsu Kazuyuki x Nojima Kenji *stop with the abos Okitsu omg

Synopsis: Sachio Kurumizawa is an omega mouse manga artist, and Ukano, the alpha fox, is his editor... but Sachio can't help but feel uncomfortable around Ukano. He always seems to look at Sachio with predatory eyes. One night, Sachio goes into heat at an omega-only bar, and Ukano saves him. Unfortunately, Sachio has no idea how long he'll stay in heat... and then Ukano offers to help him stop it. Will Sachio say yes to getting between the sheets with Ukano despite his terror of being devoured...!?

4. Amakute Atsukute Iki mo Dekinai Bangaihen Mini Drama CD Daria December 2022 ✘

Release Date: 2022/10/21

Cast: Azakami Youhei x Terashima Junta

Synopsis: Special Mini Drama CD released with the magazine.

5. Amakute Atsukute Iki mo Dekinai ✘

Release Date: 2022/10/22

Cast: Azakami Youhei x Terashima Junta

Synopsis: 

“The pain in my body doesn't stop! This is the first time a fragrance ...”

Ayato, a professional student with a constitution that is sensitive to odors, sniffs a fascinating scent on the train, and for some reason, his body reacts to the scent! What's more, the main scent is Ayato, a good-looking classmate with scary eyes, what will happen next?

6. Ai no Yoake wo Mate! 💡

Release Date: 2022/10/26

Cast: Shingaki Tarusuke x Toki Shunichi

Synopsis: 

“What hurts me the most is the fact that I can’t make you happy.”

Kibe Takaya and Shiba Hisafumi spent their childhood and college years together. Kibe has been a playboy since time immemorial, but this doesn’t get in the way of their friendship. However, when Shiba marries years later, Kibe chooses to keep his distance in order to nurse his now failed one-sided feelings for him. Before he knew it, five years had passed since they last saw each other. One day, Shiba appears at his doorstep with news of his divorce and a plea to move in with him. Kibe wants to reject him, but his feelings for Shiba get in the way... 

7. Kiss Me Crying ✘

Release Date: 2022/10/26

Cast: Satou Takuya x Yashiro Taku

Synopsis: Noa has been a part of the glittering entertainment industry for years, but he hasn't had his break since. Just when he thinks he's finally going to be let go, he gets struck with the surprise of a lifetime: Korea's record breaking idol J is redebuting in Japan - alongside Noa! But how much more does Noa have to improve to stand on the same stage as him? J has a solution...

8. Zettai BL ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL ni Naritakunai Otoko 3 ✘

Release Date: 2022/10/26

Cast: 

Nakajima Yoshiki

Tsuchida Reiou

Eguchi Takuya

Shimoo Hiro

Hatano Wataru

Amasaki Kouhei

Okamoto Nobuhiko

Masuda Toshiki

Synopsis: Third installment of the BLCD adaptation of the series of the same name.

9. Amaetai Kemono 💡

Release Date: 2022/10/28

Cast: Masuda Toshiki x Azakami Youhei

Synopsis: Arata's a college student working as a "big brother for rent." One day, he meets his new client, Junta, who looks like a total tough guy!! Arata wonders if this is some sort of trap to get his money, but what Junta wants is for someone to pat him on the head. Seeing someone this hot go bright red and be so vulnerable is turning Arata on... Junta's just so adorable... what's going on here!!?

10. Boku no Omawari-san 3 ✘ 

Release Date: 2022/10/28

Cast: Furukawa Makoto x Shingaki Tarusuke

Synopsis: Third installment of the BLCD adaptation of the series of the same name.

11. Bokura no Koi to Seishun no Subete case:06 Shuugakuryokou no Bokura ✘

Release Date: 2022/10/28

Cast: Itou Kentou x Kijima Ryuuichi

Synopsis: Sixth installment of the the series.

12. Kabukichou Bad Trip 2 ✘  

Release Date: 2022/10/28

Cast: Saitou Souma x Shirai Yuusuke

Synopsis: Adaptation of the second volume of the series.

[harrison-abbott]

I used to visit Poland a lot when I was younger. It’s the country that I’ve spent the most time in in terms of foreign land (as somebody from Scotland), and I would go around the big cities. But I also visited the countryside a lot, too.

And what I felt about the Polish country especially was a sense of great beauty. Polska is a very beautiful land, with the fields and the forest. There is a dense, rich quality to this nation’s wilderness. And whilst I was watching Shoah (1985) I was reminded of all of that beauty – for a lot of it is shot in the same terrain that I mention.

This is what makes it a highly unusual documentary. Because there is no archival footage whatsoever used to portray the time period in question. What we see instead are scenes of 1980s, beautiful Poland.

Accompanying this visual array, are the interviews and words with real people who were involved with the events that happened forty years earlier. We witness a whole range of people speak about their experiences. And their stories clash and mix with the scenery.

I actually posted on this blog yesterday about H.G. Wells’ book, A Short History of the World. And I was struck by just how much violence was involved in the history between peoples, throughout the ages. It was as if violent behaviour was the key motivator behind what propelled most of the chapters. This group of people invaded another group of people in this other part of the continent, and won over this area of land, for x amount of time, until a new army invaded, and they ruled for y number of years.

And whilst I was reading this book, the violence was somehow diluted because it was so repetitive.

When I watched this documentary ^, the horrors involved were far more subjectively portrayed. Not that I’m saying that the horror in the Wells book was to be ignored. Only that, in this film, the accounts were actual people who were direct witnesses to what happened.

I’m sure we know lots of black comic jokes that are made about this particular topic. People make jokes about this genocide, in crass terms. Be it in cartoons, or in the playground, or just for a sick ‘sense of humour’. It is as if what happened during WWII has ended up as a soup of jargon, in a way, whereby words and phrases such as; holocaust, Auschwitz, concentration camp, gas chambers, Hitler, Nazi: all of these items seem to gloss over the sheer scale of the atrocity.

I remember being in college (FE college, not university) and overhearing a lad talking about his visit he made to Auschwitz with his friends. And he was telling them about “shower jokes” he had made whilst there. And the other folk who were listening were just laughing at them. And I remember reading a novel by a Hungarian writer who repeatedly made black digs about the Jews being sent off to be gassed.

What on earth is funny about what happened?

Often, I marvel at how short a time ago it was. It really wasn’t that long ago. Eighty years ago, as I write this on the 17th March 2024, it was still happening. My own grandfather was a British serviceman in the Royal Engineers, and he was rescued from Dunkirk. And then he went back to Europe and ended up in Berlin after the war ended, where he was a prison guard. Albert Speer was one of the detainees in the prison he guarded.

And I am 31 years old now, and my grandfather was only two generations above me. This is how recent World War Two is in historical terms.

As for a film, it is very good. It is nine and half hours long, so it takes a while. And many of the stories included are so grim that I had to pause for a while and do other things, just because the content got so oppressive. But in the way that is shot, and the manner in which the information is delivered, is somehow magnetic. Or, rather, you feel that you are watching something that is important to watch. Which, I believe, is what films are supposed to do.

Not everything was pretty, in a visual sense, throughout this film.

This was not the point I was trying to make earlier. What I meant was that, there are many areas of Poland where the old camps were demolished and now they are surrounded by green, fertile land. Particularly with Treblinka: it just seems like a lost place in the sticks, and you wouldn’t think anything awful had gone down there if it weren’t for the cemeteries.

But with Auschwitz, it has remained intact. That famous shot of the train track, with the entrance on the horizon. The ominous tower above the entrance … it just looks like something out of Hell.

I think it is profoundly important that they kept Auschwitz preserved. In the same way that it was essential for Claude Lanzmann to have made this epic film.

There are many scenes whereby he interviews, via his translator, the Polish people who remember the Jewish folks before they were taken off to the camps. And the lady translator speaks back to him in French what they said. Lanzmann also speaks in English and German to various other people who were involved. And there is Hebrew at points as well, and Greek. And with this collage of languages, one gets a sense of the magnitude of the whole ordeal. It makes you incredulous how mammoth this massacre was. And stuns you to think that it ever possibly happened.

I won’t go into details about a particular part in the doc: but there was a note of disbelief amongst the victims as well. Or, rather, disbelief before they became victims. They couldn’t believe that they would be murdered in such a way, on a mass scale. And it happened across a whole continent.

This is not an easy documentary to watch. But, it makes you think, and it’s worth experiencing. I certainly rate it highly amongst the many documentaries I’ve seen. And it is a huge achievement from Lanzmann and the rest of his team.

[x-authorship-x]

HOLY SHIT HI KOTO ANON!!! UR ASKS R LIKE… SUPER COOL. Anyways this ask is unrelated w/ koto-anons ask, i just think they’re cool,,,

anyways, more shiobi brainrot and expanding on my last ask abt kakashi because oh my fucking god, these bitches make me so fucking sad. (also the fucking naruto timeline makes my head hurt so fuck the timeline!)

Ever since he was little, Obito would always make up stories about his team in a fairytale-esk way. For example: “the white wolf who's always a stickler for rules!” and “how he saved a princess!” (this is kinda relevant idk– i wanted to include this part into the confrontation but things just don't work out)

Later on, Obito would die during THE mission– with shisui’s genin team dying within the same month. Shisui was well, inconsolable. That doesn’t help with the fact that the Uchiha clan is now looking at him with those eyes and– obito-nii please. I'm scared. please come back… – and how he’s now treated as a weapon.

Then boom Inoichi and Shisui bonding time. (more like therapy sessions but shhh…)

During this time, Shisui has never seen Kakashi ever since Obito’s death. And with the rumors of Kakashi being well… a friend killer. Uhm. yikes.

Later on in his life, he was well recruited into anbu– he saw like kakashi in his hound mode (kakashi’s inner thoughts: oh god oh fuck– OBITO’S LITTLE BROTHER. IS IN FUCKING ANBU. FUCK. (kakashi’s a mess and i love him)) 

He passes yada yada. Skipping to Kakashi’s and Shisui’s confrontation–

“S–Shisui...?” and just like that, the air within Shisui’s lungs [just evaporates.] He knew that voice– no, he knows that voice. [smth smth about being obito’s teammate)

His mind is clouded with denial, grief, and.. and.. 

… and anger. [so so so much anger boils inside Shisui]. He wanted to yell why Obito died instead of him. He wanted to sob into him knowing that his older brother’s death didn’t go to waste and how he knew he cared way too much about his teammates and and– He wanted to attack Kakashi right there and then because how dare he–!

He… … feels a lot of things about Kakashi and it takes [his entire willpower to not contort his face.] “... I hate you so much,” He blurted with [such venom in his voice]. He knows he shouldn’t let his anger get the better of him– he knows it isn’t kakashi’s fault but… feelings are so so irrational, aren’t they?

Hou– Kakashi [took a step back– no, backpedaled.] and and … fuck.

“I’m… For what it’s worth, I’m.. I’m sorry,” Kakashi said, his voice hitching. “Sorries won’t bring Obito back.” He spat, before walking away from him.

Ok so, i cannot believe i actually wrote that WHOOPS. Is Shisui a bit ooc? Maybe but shh! Anyways! After that, they both tip toed towards each other before they decide to actually get to know each other and bond through the trauma they both went through.

Shisui never knew how Obito truly died just that he knew that Kakashi had Obito’s eyes (and for all that he hated Kakashi, he knew he wasn’t a bloodline thief.) and then boom trauma bonding then boom Shisui died presumeably from suicide. (which uh… not the best move Shisui)

Kakashi just went straight to grieving mode because he lost the last connection to Obito and spent his life devoted to protecting Naruto because he isn’t gonna lose another precious person of his.

This is just a rough idea, my daydreams are wayyy more in depth but i need to get this outta my system lol.

It is currently 11 pm. I think I have a problem with asking during ungodly hours <3 ALSO IF ANYONE ELSE WANNA WRITE ABT THIS… PLS DO. I DON’T HAVE THE MOTIVATION TO WRITE 😭

- N

N-anon 🤝 me, star struck for Koto-anon lmao

This ask is a feat! I'm so impressed, let me try to respond systematically

Fuck the Narutoverse timeline? Fuck the Narutoverse timeline! I spent three days in 2021 trying to make it make sense and then i just gave up and built my own timeline (hence some wonky ages, most notably Shisui) 😅 it was waaaaaay too long for my AO3 A/Ns (not because i thought so, c'mon i don't shut up, but because it literally went over word limit) so...idk if people are interested, I could talk about it more on here???

Honestly the fairytale element just makes me desperately want a fantasy, magical, or even an InkHeart AU 🥺

Honestly, I'm not sure it IS OOC because, let's be honest, Shisui probably has a fair bit of repressed anger and he probably (ironically) would have some feelings about eye implants so writing a scene/fic where Shisui flips his tits at Kakashi just sounds cathartic to me! I can't believe you wrote honest to God dialogue in my askbox, I'm very honoured (genuinely, this takes time) ✨

This sounds like a great wip idea! If it ever hits the page (I'm not sure my askbox counts?) then please link me!

❤️