#same concept different angle

[banancrumbs]

hmmm dreamling 1389 um querido….. 🫶

[monstermonger]

At the end of it all.

[3416]

i only follow the nba but there def is a different vibe if you've been a fan of a team for a long time bc it's so easy to become jaded. if your team is good but never wins it all then it becomes hard to believe in them year after year. even if logically that makes no sense because often there are huge changes on rosters lol. and you might think 'if this is upsetting why still watch/call yourself a fan' and you'd be right but with sports once you're in, you're in for life lol

idk, i feel like watching sports or investing your time in them is still something you're CHOOSING to do, esp when it becomes a longtime thing and loses it's shiny new obsessive appeal, so it feels like some ppl are choosing to be miserable sometimes, lol. like you don't have to keep watching or call yourself a fan if it's not bringing you joy just bc it's become a habit, and while i do understand why some people become jaded... i just know there are others who have been around for a long time and manage to not become that way necessarily and those are the people i'd rather listen to or be around or have centered in the media. i'm not trying to preemptively become cynical about a thing that brings me lots of serotonin just bc a segment of the fanbase has experienced disappointment too much 😭😭 like... i guess i havent gone through the gutwrenching nature of things over n over again but when it gets too much for me or makes me feel uber negative all the time, you better believe i will be moving on.

[bonewicca]

solution nine discourse on the for you page. here's my input: 👎

[absentlyabbie]

seriously, though. i work in higher education, and part of my job is students sending me transcripts. you'd think the ones who have the least idea how to actually do that would be the older ones, and while sure, they definitely struggle with it, i see it most with the younger students. the teens to early 20s crowd.

very, astonishingly often, they don't know how to work with .pdf documents. i get garbage phone screenshots, sometimes inserted into an excel or word file for who knows what reason, but most often it's just a raw .jpg or other image file.

they definitely either don't know how to use a scanner, don't have access to one, or don't even know where they might go for that (staples and other office supply stores sometimes still have these services, but public libraries always have your back, kids.) so when they have a paper transcript and need to send me a copy electronically, it's just terrible photos at bad angles full of thumbs and text-obscuring shadows.

mind bogglingly frequently, i get cell phone photos of computer screens. they don't know how to take a screenshot on a computer. they don't know the function of the Print Screen button on the keyboard. they don't know how to right click a web page, hit "print", and choose "save as PDF" to produce a full and unbroken capture of the entirety of a webpage.

sometimes they'll just copy the text of a transcript and paste it right into the message of an email. that's if they figure out the difference between the body text portion of the email and the subject line, because quite frankly they often don't.

these are people who in most cases have done at least some college work already, but they have absolutely no clue how to utilize the attachment function in an email, and for some reason they don't consider they could google very quickly for instructions or even videos.

i am not taking a shit on gen z/gen alpha here, i'm really not.

what i am is aghast that they've been so massively failed on so many levels. the education system assumed they were "native" to technology and needed to be taught nothing. their parents assumed the same, or assumed the schools would teach them, or don't know how themselves and are too intimidated to figure it out and teach their kids these skills at home.

they spend hours a day on instagram and tiktok and youtube and etc, so they surely know (this is ridiculous to assume!!!) how to draft a formal email and format the text and what part goes where and what all those damn little symbols means, right? SURELY they're already familiar with every file type under the sun and know how to make use of whatever's salient in a pinch, right???

THEY MUST CERTAINLY know, innately, as one knows how to inhale, how to type in business formatting and formal communication style, how to present themselves in a way that gets them taken seriously by formal institutions, how to appear and be competent in basic/standard digital skills. SURELY. Of course. RIGHT!!!!

it's MADDENING, it's insane, and it's frustrating from the receiving end, but even more frustrating knowing they're stumbling blind out there in the digital spaces of grown-up matters, being dismissed, being considered less intelligent, being talked down to, because every adult and system responsible for them just

ASSUMED they should "just know" or "just figure out" these important things no one ever bothered to teach them, or half the time even introduce the concepts of before asking them to do it, on the spot, with high educational or professional stakes.

kids shouldn't have to supplement their own education like this and get sneered and scoffed at if they don't.

[jessicalprice]

how can you be so controversial and yet so brave

(reposted from Twitter)

Hey so, have I ever told you about the time I was at an interfaith event (my rabbi, who was on the panel, didn't want to be the only Jew there), and there was a panel with representatives of 7 different traditions, from Baha'i to Zoroastrian?

The setup was each panelist got asked the same question by the moderator, had 3 minutes to respond, and then they moved on to the next panelist.

The Christian dude talked for 8 minutes and kept waving off the poor, flustered, terminally polite Unitarian moderator.

The next panelist was a Hindu lady, who just said drily, "I'll try to keep my answer to under a minute so everyone else still has a chance to answer." (I, incidentally, am at a table with I think the only other non-Christian audience members, a handful of Muslims and a Zorastrian.)

So then we get to the audience questions part. No one's asking any questions, so finally I decide to get things rolling, and raise my hand and the very polite moderator comes over and gives me the mic.

I briefly explain Stendahl's concept of "holy envy" and ask what each of theirs is.

(If you're not familiar, Stendahl had 3 tenets for learning about other traditions, and one was leave room for "holy envy," being able to say, I am happy in my tradition and don't desire to convert, but this is something about another tradition that I admire and wish we had.)

The answers were lovely. My rabbi said she admired the Buddhist comfort with silence and wished we could learn to have that spaciousness in our practice. The Hindu said she admired the Jewish and Muslim commitment to social justice & changing, rather than accepting, the status quo.

The Christian dude said he envied that everyone else on the panel had the opportunity to newly accept Jesus.

I shit you not.

Dead silence. The Buddhist and Baha'i panelists are resolutely holding poker faces. The Hindu lady has placed her hands on the table and folded them and seems to be holding them very tightly. Over on the middle eastern end of the table, the rabbi, the imam, and the Zoroastrian lady are all leaning away from the Christian at identical angles with identical expressions of disgust. The terminally polite Unitarian moderator is literally wringing his hands in distress.

A Christian lady at the table next to me, somehow unable to pick up on the emotional currents in the room, sighs happily and says to her fellow church lady, "What a beautiful answer."

anyway I love my rabbi to death and would do anything for her

except attend another interfaith event

[t4t4t]

the "treat me like your pet" thing has a few interlocking dynamics that make it attractive to transfems. like the submissive kink pet play angle, the "I don't even want to leave your house" agoraphobic housewife angle, that can also dovetail with a disabled aspect, or of being disabled in multiple ways, ones that make it hard to approach the place of work or of market, or ones that either make it hard to relate to other humans or hard to relate to yourself as a human (those might be the same thing for some people but different for others), the therian aspect of not feeling fully human so wanting new (to you) social dynamics like pet play or pet space... I feel like a lot of times when we take psychedelics it also encourages this "more girl than human" concept that some of the therian or post furry girls talk about in that they can encourage one (us) to feel more like a girl and less like a human at the same time. There's possibly nuances or depth to any of those I missed, or others.

[fyodior]

MY TURN!

✩ pairing: dazai x afab reader x chuuya

✩ cw: threesome, rough sex, spanking, creampies, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), fem pet names, dubcon-ish, UNGODLY amounts of cum

✩ notes: breedtober fic 1 !! this concept has been brewing in my head for a WHILE. enjoy!

✩ wc: 1.6k

want more of breedtober?

it all started with an argument, that led to a dare - one you didn’t have the pleasure of being present for or aware of. 

who can get her pregnant first? 

or rather,

if we both fuck her, whose sperm will take?

you had messed around with both dazai and chuuya more than once - both under the incredibly persuasive influence of chuuya’s finely aged wine, and under no influence at all. unless you count the insatiable and unbearable lust for the two men who made no effort to conceal their desires for you. but you’d never fucked them both at the same time

and this plan - it was a disgusting, vile, deplorable plan, especially under the guise of just a good, fun night. ‘let’s just pass around a bottle of chardonnay and see where the night goes,’ they had said, despite knowing exactly where the night was going to go. but fuck did it feel good. 

“ch-chuuya,” you moaned, stuttering as he fucked you mercilessly from the back. one hand dug deep into the plush of your hip to pull your ass back against him, meeting every one of his thrusts, while the other slapped your ass so hard you shivered each time. 

the sound of skin-on-skin filled the bedroom as he bottomed out with every thrust, burying his entire cock in you until the ginger puff of hair at the base tickled against your skin. 

“yeah, darlin’? that feel good?” he smirked, picking up the pace and rewarding you with yet another harsh spank. 

and you wanted to scream, wanted to cry out a yes, yes! chuuya, harder! but, you couldn’t, and dazai made sure of that by pushing your head down rather hard as you sucked him off.

having been so distracted with the way chuuya fucked you good and deep, you truthfully weren’t paying attention to dazai’s cock, and it drove him to a level of anger and possessiveness, almost jealousy, he can’t remember the last time he felt. and he normally wasn’t a head pusher - he really wasn’t, but he wasn’t about to lose to chuuya. 

you had only been indulging in occasional kitten licks and sucking on dazai’s angry red tip, as every time you tried to venture farther, chuuya seemed to angle his hips differently or spank you hard to pull your attention back to him, and dazai could not and would not have that. 

saliva and precum poured off your bottom lip as dazai fucked your throat in time with chuuya’s thrusts. you choked and gagged as he gripped your hair and thrust up into your mouth, grunting wildly as your throat tightened and spasmed around his aching length. 

“you have no fucking clue how sexy you look right now, doll, swallowing my cock, taking it so fucking good,” dazai smirked, tightening his grip on your hair. chuuya rolled his eyes.

dark streaks of mascara stained your cheeks from your tears, a sight that only drove dazai even madder, and one chuuya was getting more and more jealous of. but he knows there was no reason to - not yet, at least. he had the center stage, the spotlight on him as a hand snaked down underneath you to massage your throbbing, neglected clit as he fucked you hard and deep. and his cum was what was going to fill your cunt first, allowing him to succeed in their fucked up little dare - he was more than sure of it. just the thought of it, alongside the way you clenched deliciously around his length, was pushing him over the edge.

“shit, baby, gonna cum,” chuuya muttered right into your ear as he draped his chest over your back, kissing up your neck. “want me to fill up your pussy? breed you like a bitch in heat?” he was going to regardless of your answer. dazai scoffed, but chuuya ignored him easily.

you likely would’ve protested, and indeed had the thought to instruct chuuya to pull out, but your mouth was too busy for you to do anything but gasp as thick ropes painted the walls of your cunt a milky white. he made sure to press his cock in all the way inside you and tilt your hips down, the tip brushing against your cervix, to ensure his cum seeped right into your ready and waiting womb. and you couldn’t be mad about it - not when he continued to whisper dirty, filthy words into your ear as he played with your clit.

“my turn,” dazai smirks, tugging at your hair to prompt you to pull off his still aching hard-on. you finish up with a long lick on the underside of his cock along the pulsing vein, smiling up at him as you breathe heavily. 

truthfully, your pussy already felt too used and abused from chuuya, but you were starting to ache for dazai too. luckily, the man was happy to oblige.

chuuya begrudgingly pulled out to allow dazai to take his turn, regretting not just beating his ass and taking you for himself, filling you with his cum and his cum only. 

repositioning you to lay you down on your back, dazai smiled at you, playing up his irresistible charm before leaning in to press a long kiss to your lips. “gonna make you all fucking mine, pretty girl,” he smirks, voice low and gravely. “make you beg for my cum this time, yeah?”

you could only whine in response, yearning for him - at this point you had no fucking clue who you wanted more, but it had stopped mattering. when they both were treating you like this.

“hurry it up, dumbass,” chuuya muttered, arms crossed as he sat on the edge of the bed. he had an idea for what he wanted to do with you as dazai took his turn, but he couldn’t get to it with dazai yammering in your ear like that. 

“don’t worry, doll,” dazai sighed, caressing your cheek. “he’s just jealous.”

“the fuck i am,” chuuya gripes, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“just fuck me, dazai, please,” you whined, gripping his bandaged arms. and there’s no way he could say no to that.

spreading your legs wide, he lined up his cock before sinking into you easily, already stretched and prepped from your previous round. it was a conscious choice not to acknowledge how he was using chuuya’s cum as lube.

 having already been picturing this moment since they dragged you into bed, dazai built up a pace fast, and you curled your legs around his waist to ground yourself as he jostled you around. 

“so fucking tight, baby,” he gasped, gripping your waist. “i know you wanna take my cum so fucking bad, fill your pussy ‘til it can’t hold any more.” he was nearly babbling to himself at that point, mind reeling with how good you felt. 

“shut it, shithead,” chuuya hissed, deciding it was his time to join in. he’d never, ever admit it, but he was getting impossibly turned on watching dazai fuck you senseless, and his dick was already chubbing up at the sight. and the way you moaned and screwed your face tight, shit.

climbing over you, chuuya placed his knees on either side of your head to hover over you, his heavy cock right in front of your face. 

“y’re gonna take it just like this, darlin’,” he smirked gripping his length and prodding at your lips with the tip. it was a bit like trying to hit a moving target with how hard dazai was fucking you, but chuuya didn’t give a shit. he just needed to feel your mouth.

despite your poor throat already feeling bruised and sore, you opened up willingly, digging your fingers into his toned thighs in a feeble attempt to stabilize yourself. dazai only glared as chuuya lowered himself further to allow you to suck in his cock, wishing he had chosen that position himself. he chose not to let chuuya get to him though, just pushed your thighs further apart to allow better access. 

“that’s right, baby, take it all in,” chuuya coaxed as you choked on his girth but persevered anyway. his thighs burned a bit due to the unnatural squatting position, but he couldn’t care less - he was already embarrassingly close to cumming down your throat. 

dazai loathed the fact that you weren’t paying much attention to him at all, deciding to spit on his fingers and rub quick circles around your clit, making you gasp and moan around chuuya’s cock. 

“feel good?” he smirked, massaging it in time with his thrusts. 

you desperately wanted to respond, encourage the man touching your sweet spot, but chuuya commanded all your attention as he started to fuck your throat.

and in the same way chuuya couldn’t help but be turned on by dazai’s cock driving you mad, dazai was nearing his high hearing how you gagged and gurgled on chuuya’s length. the warning of his oncoming orgasm just barely left his lips before he was groaning and stuffing you with his seed this time. the tight clamp of your thighs around his waist tightened and your toes curled as you felt the hot cum leak out of you while his fingers pulled you closer to your own high. 

you had never felt so full in your life - dazai’s cock still buried in your cunt alongside two heavy loads of cum, and chuuya’s cock stuffing your mouth, alongside his hot cum sliding down your throat. 

the two men eyed each other knowingly as they wiped your spent body clean, washing away all the splattered cum minus the loads that seeped out of you - and maybe dazai even used two fingers to push it in a little deeper. 

both incredibly cocky men, they were both certain it would be their seed that took - but they’d have to wait nine months and see. 

[wickworks]

Lancer Tactics dialogue layout crisis of faith

(from this month's backer update)

Every so often, I'll run into something in development that eats away at me until it pushes me to a crisis of faith and I have a breakdown, burn down a bunch of work, and build something better from the ashes. These are moments of transformation and we're almost always able to come out the other side with something much better than what we started with.

This all sounds very dramatic until you take a step back and see the issue in question is just, like, the layout of a menu. But if medieval priests were able to have schisms over angels on pins I can have strong feelings about graphic design, dammit!

This month's episode revolved around how we're doing character dialogue. For reference the plan was to do a standard 4-slot visual-novel talking heads layout. I call it a 4-slot because there's usually four positions that characters can stand; two on the left, two on the right:

I had it ingame, and it was working. But... something felt off. Do you see the difference between every one of the above examples and this?

It's all about perspective, baby.

Answer: all the character art in those examples are drawn at a slight angle so they can be flipped back and forth to be made like they're looking at each other.

Trying to do this with the perspective we chose early — straight on — makes for a chorus line of weirdos who are looking directly into your soul as they ostensibly chat with each other. Credulity is strained; the illusion of these puppets interacting in the same space is paper-thin.

(I was skeptical of choosing this perspective for this reason, but we ultimately went with it to make the customizable assets in the portrait maker easier to fit together)

We tried a bunch of different layouts, but they all at least one of these problems:

they'd stare into your soul while ostensibly directing comments elsewhere.

they felt like text messages; this would be fine if that's what we were going for, but we wanted something that could represent face-to-face conversations. (Tactical Breach Wizards was able to pull this style off because they had little 3D dioramas to go along with it)

or, most damning of all, they felt like zoom calls.

So, my heart aflutter and spirit in want, I spent a day doing a research dive into various dialogue layouts (bless the Game UI Database!) to see if any other games had managed to pull this character art perspective off. I ended up with this massive non-chronological taxonomic tree:

(fullsize here)

The type of layout that particularly caught my eye was this style where each character had their own little box. These layouts borrow a concept from comic books called "closure" where the space and time between characters are left blank. Freed from the constraints of trying to simulate a single space, these layouts allow the reader to fill in the blanks with something that feels more true-to-life than anything we'd be able to render ourselves.

I was especially impressed with the dynamism of Tales of Symphonia and The World Ends With You; rather than sticking to single slots they would animate the entire panels moving around to indicate motion an relative position of characters.

So we threw out the old code and copied them. Here's what we've come up with:

We'll be able to have portraits interact, like smacking each other (I felt like a kid hitting two action figures together, lol)

We can also apply effects like princess-leia-holograms and full-screen "lighting" effects like warning banners:

Carpenter and I came up with a number of arrangements that the portraits can smoothly transition between:

I've also implemented support for choices during a dialogue, potentially leading to branching paths.

Overall, I feel SO much better about this system than our initial designs. It might feel a little more cartoony, but I think we're making a cartoony game so that's not a problem.

Whew. We bit a lot off to chew with this project. I feel like I just made a second visual novel game engine inside of the first. Fingers crossed that it all ends up worth it.

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Cod men NSFW snippets

Requested: No

Warnings: Face sitting and cum marking, general spice (obviously)

A/N:

Ghost

Favorite position: Whatever positions end with you sitting on his face

Man eats you out like he’s possessed by some kind of oral sex demon

Like seriously, this man is a GIVER through and through

Literally gets drunk off the taste of you

If you broke his neck while doing so, he’d wear the brace prouder than any Medal of Honor

He’s fully convinced that he wants to die like that, with you riding his face like there’s no tomorrow

Please smother him, he’ll love every second

Soap

Favorite position: Missionary

Soap is a pretty emotionally driven man, especially when it comes to sex

He has to love you to want to bone you is what I’m saying

He’s also a hopeless romantic

He’ll go the whole 9 yards. Rose petals, candles, silk sheets, the works.

Every. Single. Time.

Sometimes different flower petals, different scented candles, different colored sheets, but generally the same concept.

Like I said, hopeless romantic

He wants every time to be something memorable, something sweet and filled with love

König

Favorite position: Mating press

He wants to get as deep into you as humanly possible all the time

He wants to get so deep into you that you’ll never forget what he feels like, even when he’s away for weeks at a time

With that comes the desperate need to mark you

Hickeys, bruises, cum marking as well

He likes to lay claim to your body, needs to make sure you can never forget him, even for just a moment

Alejandro

Favorite position: All of them

Alejandro’s a passionate man, with a libido that isn’t easily satiated

You’ll be flipping into many (all) different positions throughout the night, and none of them will ever be enough for Alejandro

He can’t rest til he knows he’s felt you from every angle, til every inch of you has been touched and pleasured

And just when you think it’s over, that he’s finally worn out, he’s ready to go again, that same smirk on his face as always

[rene-darling]

Listen I saw this fanart and now I had an idea. So like sub!Idol Xiao x dom reader (fem prefered but u can choose) and so basically Xiao's taking some mirror selfies for his social media in this outfit and yk like showing off those lacy panties (like they're pulled up, but he still has his jeans on) and like reader (their partnwrcomes home and sees him doing that. So they like sneak up behind him and hug him from behind. Like he becomes all flustered all of the sudden and readers like:"Oh so you're showing this to millions of people, but get embarassed when I see it?" What happens afterwards is up to u lmao

IDOL!- Xiao x reader

OML THIS IS SO- HOT. I love this concept. I'm drooling.

Possessive reader! A lil toxic I guess, but it's pretty tame.

Also! The readers gender nor pronouns are not mentioned anywhere, so feel free to assume. And if they are please feel free to tell me!

Talk to me on insta [r3xni3]😞🙏

...Xiao...

He's been at it for hours. Different angles, different poses- all to get a good photo of himself flaunting his panties and the tight straps attached to them on his waist,

They hug his body so tightly pushing at his skin, if they move even a little bit you'd definitely see the red marks under them, they push up against his skin, it hurts but, he's doing it cause his agency asked him.

"mhm..." Groans leaving his throat, the photos- they're just not good enough. Scrolling through the endless amounts of them that he took, finally landing on one that pleases him.

He decides to shoot it one more time, same angle and stuff, just better lighting. He wants to show off his toned body as much as possible. And as he does this, it- quite frankly skips his mind that he has a loving partner returning from work soon. And that soon happens to be around- now.

"Ah-!" His body freezes up. Goosebumps trace along his skin- god your hands are cold. His eyes flash down, seeing as your hands slowly trace down the side of his waist, fidgeting with the straps they came across, grabbing one and pulling it away from his body only to watch in amusement as it snaps back in place once you let go,

He reaches out to grab your hand instinctively, mewling- until you finally reach, and play with the hem of his panties.

"y/n- s-...mh, stop." He tries sounding serious, but he curses at how squeaky and pitched his voice came out.

"hm..? What's the problem darl', you can show off your panties to millions of people, but you're getting embarrassed when I see? Hmpf, I'm one of your fans too y'know?."

"i-its not the same-" he's stammering over his words "y/n- hah..-" slipping your hands in between them, but not quite touching him just yet, simply tracing the sides of his hip "and how so..? I'm your biggest fan, shouldn't I get a reward for that. I deserve more than a picture. Don't'cha think?"

Tracing down the side of his hip, he can feel your eyes peering over his shoulder, watching him. His every movement, his every shudder. And the way his panties start bulging in a specific area

"y/n-" his voice is cut off by his own whine. You're so mean, suddenly jerking his cock, tapping its tip just for your own amusement. "Aw- darlin that was too cute!..do that again? Hm? For me?..you take so many photos for those stupid fans of yours, you can make that cute sound for me again can't you..?"

Huffing, he's leaning back into your body. His head falling back with each increase in movement, resting it on your shoulder, whining back into your ear. "Hah- you- you're so mean..!"

It's not your fault he's decided to make you jealous. Seriously, why the hell should he post his body for all his perverted fans to see.

Picking up his phone and pressing record on it, angling it right at his face. "Look here baby, I'm sure your perverted fans would love to see their favorite lil idol losing his head over a few touches." His eyes widen in shock "n-no..!"

He tries grabbing the phone, but to no avail. You pull it further, and jerk his lil dick harder, he stumbles, falling forward before you grab his waist pulling him back into you, he's leaning his whole body weight against you, he just hopes you won't let go.

Snickering to yourself you decide to stop recording, and go into the photos, clicking on the video you just took, you bring it to his ears and make him listen "Aw- darling don't you just sound so cute when you're desperate."

That's when it all spills. A shameful feeling, and an ever more shame worthy whine leave him as he comes all in his lacy little panties, getting them all dirty.

His legs collapse completely as you're forced to pick him up off the floor, not that you mind.

Resting him on the bed, letting him catch his breath, you take a hold of his phone and- delete every photo he took showing off those panties.

Scoffing you throw his phone down next to him and crash onto the bed right near him, wrapping your hands around his pretty waist you hear him huff. "You got them dirty..." He could only mumble under his breath.

"I'll buy you some new ones, on one condition." Turning his head around with a slightly amused expression on his breathless face "and..that is...?"

"you can only take those photos for me. I get to see them. No one else."

[revelboo]

Holy guacamole finding your account is like finding the holy grail. Thoughts on tfp shockwave??

Oh, no. I feel so bad for him. Casual TF fans can just see him and Whirl and vaguely wonder why they look so different and not know the horrible lore implications…. I miss those happy days and unfortunately I do know, so you have to suffer too for asking.

Point of Extinction

TFP Shockwave x Reader

• Routines to ground him. An exact number of swipes with a cleaning rag after disinfecting his work station after another failed experiment. Routines to keep him busy so his processor can’t dredge up those broken fragments that make no sense to him. Confusing flickers of memories that are and aren’t his. “Enter,” he says, using a servo to slide a tool back precisely where it goes. Order. This he can control.

• Antenna flicking up as the vehicon enters his lab, a box in its servos. And that snares him. Two hands like he’d had. No, that’s not right. Helm tipping down to stare at the cannon at the end of his arm, there’s a moment of disconnect before he’s back. Did he have two hands once? He can’t remember. Logical steps. That chaos isn’t his, it belongs to a stranger. “The counter.”

• Watches the vehicon set the box down and immediately retreat. Unwilling to stick around. They fear him and he understands the concept, but it’s not a thing he really understands. Illogical emotion that can control a mech, twist them into making wrong decisions. Emotional decisions.

• Lifting the lid, he stares at his newest specimen. Number 13. A human. The little creature is slumped at the bottom of the container, breathing but still. The last twelve earth creatures had been smaller, too delicate to survive long. This isn’t what he expected the vehicon to bring him, only specifying something more sturdy than the birds, cats, and lizards he’d been provided before. Something that will last long enough to get conclusive data.

• Reaching in to nudge it before he carefully picks it up in his servos and lifts it free of the box. It’s warm against his metal flesh, his antenna angling forward as the creature stirs. Makes a noise of pain as its eyes open and land on his single glowing optic and stay there. Leaning in to study it as its breathing begins to speed, its eyes widening. Reacting with some emotion. And then it screams, the sharp unexpected sound nearly enough to make him drop it, servos tightening on it until it’s clawing at him, wheezing. Antenna back, he puts it back in the box. “Silence.”

• Heart racing, you scramble to press against the wall of the box you’re trapped in as far from the pointy metal, nightmare as you can get. That one glowing red eye is still staring at you as it makes a noise. “Experiment number 13. Human.” That thing has no mouth you can see, but you can hear it just fine as you slide down to pull your knees tight to your body. Experiment? Where are you? What happened? The last thing you remember is leaving work late.

• “Wait- please I’m not supposed to be here.” It’s speaking to him and he hesitates in reaching for his data pad. The other twelve hadn’t been sentient. Unable to answer his inquiries except by going under his blades. Tapping his cannon against his thigh, he shifts to stare in at it again. Wide eyes stare up at him, the little nails of its fingers digging into its arms. “Please.” Illogical pleas to sway him to release it, voice taut with emotion he can’t identify. “I’m not supposed to be here.” Its voice breaks and that off balance disconnect flares again. A memory his and not his. Had he said those same words? In that same terrified tone? He’s not sure, but he’s frozen.

Next

[heretherebeturtles-comic]

Hello! Many people have said this but ill say it too, I LOVE YOUR COMIC SO MUCH ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

I really wanted to ask you about how you do the backgrounds? (Something i struggle with) whats the process? Like from start to finish, also, to do the rise backgrounds do you use reference from the show and generally real photo of ny? Or do you come up with them? And last question- The shadow and light on the background- Like HOW

i know it’s a lot of questions but i’m just so curious qwq and wanna learn to be better, thank you again in case you read this and respond, in case you don’t, i hope you have a nice day and a wonderful life uwu keep up the great work! (≧◡≦) ♡

Backgrounds are a really broad subject and I'm always a little overwhelmed when asked this question. Just like drawing the human body, backgrounds take time, repetition, and practice!

My answer got a bit long, so it's going under a read more :) but if you digest info better in video format I found this on youtube

It pretty much goes over everything I wanted to say, but in a much better way. I wish I had found it before writing all this out lol

ok, first of all, I'm not a teacher nor was I built to be one of those cool helpful art tutorial people who do a full coloured tutorial filled with illustrations. This is just going to be a messy "how I do backgrounds / environment layouts from start to finish." kinda thing.

... lets start with a sight tangent.

Sketch from Life!!!

If you want to get better at backgrounds I recommend doing some sketching out in the real world!

When I was first getting into doing backgrounds I went to cafes and parks to just sketch the buildings and objects. Sketch rocks, flowers, clumps of grass, garbage cans, bottles, tables, street signs, etc. If you are drawing a tree observe how the trunks twist, how the bark flows, or how the leaves are bunched.

If you can't leave the house the same still applies! Sketch the interiors of your house, the walls, or common objects like chairs and bookshelves. How are objects stacked? items on the floor?

If you aren't comfortable with drawing outside or in public you can take some photos to draw from! They are good for practice and you can use them again as references later. Alternatively you can find pictures online of buildings and objects to sketch as practice.

All spaces have objects in them, it becomes easier to draw those kinds of spaces when you already have spent time observing and sketching them.

ALSO! They don't have to be good sketches! It's just to build out your mental catalogue and strengthen your perception of perspective.

now the actual thing...

BACKGROUNDS

(the pictures used for this are my own. I dug them out of my 2022 folder)

Backgrounds have slightly different rules based on what you are making them for. Videogame Environment Concept Art vs Animation Layouts vs Comic Backgrounds vs Illustration backgrounds.

They all follow the same basics, which I will go over here, but the intention and function of those designs are going to be different. It's all about how you set up the scene and what it's purpose is!

Brainstorming and Thumbnailing

I like to think about a location as though it is a character. An abandoned old house with creaky sagging floorboards is very different from a futuristic space ship with sharp metal floor panels. A gas station has a very different feeling from a library.

I usually start by asking what is this location's story? Why was it built and for what purpose? What kinds of things does this room need to fulfill that purpose? You don’t need solid answers, but its good to be thinking about it while you are working.

Next, sketch some ideas for how this place is going to look. For me, this usually involves drawing the idea from multiple angles and then making lists & small sketches of the objects I think should be filling the space.

Example: The main character of my original work is a Wanderer. They collect a lot of things on their travels, but those items have to be small enough to be easily carried in a backpack. I wanted his room to be in the corner of an attic, walled off by curtains, and filled with trinkets. You can see some of my brainstorming above.

References

I only look for references after I've done some sketching and planning; this is to solidify my idea first so that I don't accidentally copy anyone else's work. I will make a moodboard with pictures of lighting, colours, items, rooms with specific ceiling beams, old chairs, etc. basically whatever I feel fits the vibe.

Honestly, I don't use references as much as I should. For ROTTMNT fanart I look at backgrounds and screenshots from the series to study the style. I also reference actual photos of NYC to get a feel for how Rise condenses the visual information.

In general, it's good to have references of real life objects/locations, because there are so many details like cracks in pavement, stickers on polls, crowning on buildings, fancy fencing, weird chair legs, etc. that you might not think of. It's the imperfect details that can make a location feel more alive.

Perspective

Once you have your chosen sketch we move to.... the infamous perspective boxes. Doing backgrounds is just learning to be comfortable drawing So Many boxes and carving items out of them.

Many better artists than myself have made videos on perspective, vanishing points, and all the technical bits. Videos like THIS ONE and THIS ONE are helpful (this post is great too!!). There are probably a lot of classes to be found on Skillshare or Schoolism. I learned a lot of this in my college art course, so I can't give you a specific video which helped me.

You can get by and be a good artist without learning this stuff. There are quite a few successful artists who have admitted they never bothered to learn perspective (one of these people even made a whole graphic novel series).

I personally avoided properly learning this stuff until I was in my 20s because I thought it would be boring and difficult to do. tbh I really wish I had learned it earlier because it's so much fun to make those silly little boxes imo. It looks scary and complicated but, just like drawing humans, it just takes time, repetition, and practice to develop the knowledge and skills.

Cleanup

You have your boxes and lines! Cool! Now to make a scene out of it. Fill in the details, get everything placed were you want it! Generally, the lines of each item will point back towards the horizon line, but they can have different perspective points.

Generally you would want to clean it up and get your room completely sketched before doing the lineart. I tend to combine the steps (not recommended)

Lineart

I've mentioned how I do this before. Closer objects have thicker lines and more detailed inside. Further objects have thinner lines and less detail. I didn't quite achieve that balance with the image below, but it's close enough.

Colours and Shading will have to be a separate post. In the meantime, I highly recommend the book "Color and Light" by James Gurney. I used to borrow it from my local library and a good chunk of my knowledge was learned from it :)

[slut4thebroken]

A Taste for Fear

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | He’s a vampire obsessed with fear. What more do I need to say?

Warnings | Technically non-con, but like there’s no smut yet, fear play, hunter/prey, gun?, idk

Words | 700+

Notes | I’m actually so exited for this concept because I’ve never seen it done before🤭 and yes I’m 100% going to make a part 2 <<3

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 10: hunter/prey + fear play

Becoming a vampire was one of the best things to ever happen to Jonathan. The abilities, heightened senses, the powers… There was hardly a negative aspect about it. 

He loved being able to smell fear, but his all time favorite thing was being able to taste it. The difference wasn’t too drastic, but he strongly preferred inducing fear before feeding. Plus, it wasn’t like it was very hard. All it took was just a glimpse of his red eyes or fangs for his victim to be practically paralyzed with fear.

He wasn’t originally planning on feeding tonight, but he could smell you from across the street and he just couldn’t resist. He could tell you were already on edge, no doubt due to walking the streets of Gotham at night as a woman. When you turned down an alley, he practically grinned— Of course a pretty thing like you would be stupid enough to go down a dark alley all alone.

He wanted to draw out the chase, intensify your fear, so he made his presence known. He kept a safe distance, but he knew you heard his footsteps when your heart started beating a little faster in your chest. As you reached in your purse, he could already smell the lead before you even pulled out the small revolver. He chuckled quietly to himself at that, but pretended to be oblivious. 

You turned a corner and a few seconds later he did the same, but paused when he saw you standing still, pointing the gun at him. 

“Why are you following me?” You asked, voice trembling almost as much as your hands. 

“Following you?” He asked innocently, tilting his head. As he continued stalking closer, you adjusted your grip on the gun and staggered back a few steps. “Easy there, sweetheart.” You immediately scowled at the patronizing tone and pet name. 

“Stop walking.” You ordered sternly— adorably. He humored you and slowed to a stop.  

“I’m trying to get somewhere.” He said, glancing past you to indicate the direction he ‘needed to go.’ You faltered, then started walking backwards, this time at an angle, closer to the wall so he could pass you. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on you and resumed moving closer. 

“Stop! I'll shoot!” The way you tried to sound threatening was almost endearing, but he could smell the sweat beading on your forehead. He said nothing and continued, making you stagger back even more, gasping when you hit the wall. “I’m serious!” Your heart was beating wildly in your chest and your breathing was quickly becoming ragged. 

When he was only a foot away, you squeezed your eyes shut and pulled the trigger, flinching at the loud sound of the gun. He froze and raised his brows, vexed by your audacity. You finally opened your eyes and he could see the moment your face paled in realization. He snatched the gun from your hand violently and threw it across the alley without ever breaking eye contact. 

“This was a new suit.” He said dryly. 

You opened and closed your mouth, struggling to find words when you still didn’t completely understand what just happened. “I,” your throat closed up when you tried to speak and he stepped even closer, his body barely an inch away now. When you still couldn’t speak, he tilted his head questioningly. 

Your bottom lip started to quiver as tears brimmed in your eyes, making his cock throb within the confines of his pants. He lifted his hand to brush the back of his finger over your cheek and you flinched away with a quiet sob, closing your eyes. You were trembling like a leaf and he cooed with fake sympathy, using his thumb to drag over your bottom lip. 

“Oh, I know… Poor thing, you must be so scared.” You let out a choked sob and pressed yourself firmly against the wall, trying uselessly to get some distance. His gaze was drawn to your neck and he could practically see the blood rushing through your veins. “You smell divine, my dear.” He purred, his voice already thick with arousal. You bit your lip, trying hard to repress your sobs as your heart thumped loudly in your chest. Honestly, you looked like you were about to start hyperventilating. 

“Now, I was taught not to play with my food before eating it… But personally, I think it tastes even sweeter, laced with fear.” He murmured, reluctantly drawing his gaze away from your neck. He took a step back and you didn’t move, but your eyes slowly fluttered open. “Run.” 

“What?” You choked out, your voice barely audible. 

“Run.” He grinned predatorily, finally showing off his fangs. “You better hope I don’t catch you.”

[ckret2]

Any mention of shape segregation

Nope.

Here's what we know about how his dimension handled shapes and how it compares to canon Flatland:

Bill mentions rhombuses and trapezoids when talking about his home and that they're wasting his oxygen. In Flatland, rhombuses & trapezoids would never be allowed to live—only squares are regular quadrilaterals, and any deviation from regularity so great it can't be fixed in childhood (about 1º) is grounds for execution or imprisonment. So the mere existence of rhombuses & trapezoids in great enough numbers that Bill can comment on them means his dimension was MUCH more tolerant of irregularity than Flatland.

A triangle suggesting quadrilaterals are wasting his air could mean that quadrilaterals don't outrank triangles in his dimension—or, that could just be Bill's ego talking. On the other hand, a regular(ish?) triangle suggesting irregular quadrilaterals are beneath him could be prejudice against irregularity... or, again, could just be Bill's ego talking.

When Bill claims to be geometrically perfect, he tells the reader to stop staring at his "hypotenuse." Only right triangles (triangles with a 90º angle) have a "hypotenuse," while equilateral triangles are 60º/60º/60º An irregular that's 30º off of regularity is unheard of in Flatland, and would be MILES beyond grounds for execution, never mind wasting time surgically correcting it. IF Bill really had a hypotenuse, the mere fact that he's alive means his dimension is incredibly different from Flatland. (Or: it could mean that Alex is playing fast & loose with what he remembers from geometry class and he just used "hypotenuse" to mean "the longest side.")

When he claims to be geometrically perfect, he doesn't say that all his angles/sides are the same. Only that they add up to 180º, which is true of every triangle.

Bill seems to be very proud of being a triangle, at odds with how low-ranked they are in Flatland; again, this could mean triangles WEREN'T low ranked in his world, or it could just be Bill's ego.

His fake magazine cover says "FEELING OBTUSE? Get acute for the summer!" This could be only a joke about fad diets in magazines: but IF we decide to take it seriously, obtuse angles are anything over 90º, so that suggests ideal triangles have all acute angles, but that having an obtuse angle is something that can be address through a fad diet rather than through infant surgery or execution. (This would only apply to triangles: a regular quadrilateral would have all right angles, not obtuse or acute; and any higher regular shapes are supposed to have all obtuse angles.)

One of the hidden codes in the book says "IRREGULAR," that's it, no further context. It stands to reason, though, that this means the concept of irregularity exists in Bill's dimension, and it's a sore point. (But we have no context yet for what "irregular" means in the Gravity Falls setting; maybe it has nothing to do with a shape's sides/angles, and just refers to other disorders or mutations like Bill's ability to see the third dimension.)

Another hidden code says "HIS DIMENSION NOW DECEASED SCALENE AND EUCLID REST IN PEACE". We don't know who/what "scalene" and "euclid" are yet. Another couple codes suggest "Euclidia" might be the name of his dimension and/or homeworld, so "Scalene and Euclid" might be the names of worlds; another theory is that Scalene and Euclid are his parent's names. At any rate, "scalene" means a triangle with no matching sides/angles; Flatland allows for isosceles triangles with two matching sides, but not scalene. It seems unlikely that a person or planet would be named Scalene unless being scalene was normal and accepted in society.

The codes mention a fair amount of medical trauma in baby Billy's childhood, but it all seems to revolve around his eye, not his shape. If he was a right triangle and became equilateral, either he got surgery too young to remember; got medical interventions he could remember that were not traumatic; or had no medical interventions at all, and maybe in his dimension a growing triangle can naturally develop from a 90º angle into a 60º angle.

tl;dr:

NO mention of segregating shapes

NO mention of a hierarchy based on how many sides you have

extreme irregularity seems to be tolerated and NOT grounds for execution

there's evidence to suggest that, at minimum, ideal triangles have all acute angles; this implies the possibility that regularity was still preferred to irregularity, even if irregularity is tolerable

evidence suggests they believed you could change your angles via personal decisions (i.e. diet) and therefore your shape isn't permanently set or a reflection of your intrinsic morality

medical interventions for irregular angles were either milder compared to Flatland or non-existent

"irregularity" in their society might refer to mutations unrelated to their geometric shapes

And that's everything we know about how shapes are treated in his dimension.

Let me know if I missed any mention of angles or shapes in his dimension.

[sebsbarnes]

hole in the wall || pietro maximoff

pietro maximoff x f!reader

summary: despite barely knowing the brainwashed girl beyond the wall, pietro refused to hurt her, no matter how much she hurt him.

word count: 5k+

warnings: fighting, none rlly??

a/n: the russian is translated so i apologize if the translation is wrong. i wrote for pietro years ago but this is my first time in awhile :P reader is subjected to the same torture as bucky bc the character is kinda him, inaccuracies in the mcu but nothing crazy

masterlist

pietro often wondered about the girl who was held next door. he'd hear the screeching metal against the floor followed by a slight commotion and then a thud on the floor. small shuffling could be heard and then it was silence. no movement, no talking, no heavy breathing or cries, silence until the next time the metal door unleashed its harrowing song, and large boots could be heard entering the cell and dragging the girl away.

pietro couldn't tell how long he'd really been here nor how long it had been since the mysterious girl next to him was there but he did know it had been months on end and yet he had never seen a glimpse of the girl that shared the wall with him.

there was a small hole in the cement that allowed him to peer into the girl's cell but each time he looked he was met with the grey wall from beyond. he had heard murmurs that she was young like him and wanda. strong, fearless, one of the doctor's favorites. she was often sent out on missions and came back unscathed. each mission she was sent on was a success as if the concept of failure was unfathomable. she apparently spoke little, only when instructed, never talked back, never laughed, never screamed. almost robotic.

which is why it came to pietro's surprise after hearing the thud of her knees hit the floor and the guards march away he heard a soft sniffle. and then slightly louder ones followed by rapid and heavy breathing. pietro scuffled over to the hole in the wall and peered through. he could see her sitting against the far wall with her legs tucked closely to her, her forehead resting on her knees. he could only see half her body from where she was sitting but he could see her shoulder shaking.

"you... you need to breathe in and out. you are going to make yourself pass out," pietro was unsure, his voice quiet but loud enough for her to hear. her head shot up and looked directly at the hole. her hair was sticking to her face, her mouth was slightly parted, and eyes wide and red.

"it's okay. my name is pietro. you don't need to talk but i... i wanted to see if you are okay. you've never even made a noise before now," he felt funny slightly confessing the fact he's been taking note of your actions.

he watched as you wiped the tears off your cheek and raked the hair off your face.

"i don't know how i am," your voice sounded like you hadn't spoken in days.

"it's okay to not know."

from where you sat you could only see the boy's eye. it was a striking blue, "like the sky," you murmured.

"what?" you heard the voice call back.

you slowly stood up dragging your chained feet over to the wall. you held the wall, steadying yourself before sitting with a huff, "your eyes remind me of the sky."

pietro wasn't sure what to say back. he went months not hearing your voice or seeing you, only knowing the tales that the guards spoke of yet here you were inches from him, broken down and giving a compliment. a much different reality to the one he thought he knew before.

pietro didn't hear another word from you, he assumed you fell asleep against the wall. he tried looking through the hole at any angle he could to see you, but all he noticed was a piece of metal gleaming from the dull light in your cell.

a few days had passed since the interaction and pietro had little time to dwell on it. his testing was getting more intense, he was constantly being injected with needles he knew nothing about, there were many monitors reading whatever vitals they needed to document, and his training was becoming more rigorous. he was exhausted, he hadn't been in his cell in two days, and although the cell offered no comfort he much rather be locked behind the bars than strapped to a table.

the guards pushed him down the hallway, taunting him. each time he stood up they would push him back down. the shackles on his wrists rubbed his skin raw and those around his ankles prevented him from running. the guard gripped his shoulder tightly walking past wanda's cell as she called out to her brother.

"wanda!" he screamed out as he watched the other guard reach through the bars and grip at her neck. the guard holding onto him roughly pushed him into the cell causing him to stumble and land on his shoulder, his face grazed the cement floor.

you had heard the commotion from your cell, you stood at the door looking over at the guards who simply laughed at the twins who were now in pain. all you could do was grimace. you hated this, you hated this place, each day you yearned to leave this hell hole you've called home. you heard pietro scream in frustration and then heard his rapid movements as he ran around his cell, thrashing against the walls.

you had seen pietro from a distance a few times. you were never allowed to be near the enhanced people and only managed glimpses of them. you had seen his super speed and the way the scientists trained him. it was brutal and he endured a lot just from the few moments you had witnessed. you started to notice that after particularly rough days he would do this, run back and forth for what seemed like hours on end. slamming into the cement walls that would somehow rattle from the force. he would yell in anger, cursing the guards and scientists for what they were doing.

the noise settled and you hesitantly sat in front of the small hole. you could see his large frame hunched over catching his breath. he ran a hand through his messy silver hair, his white tank top was dirty and slightly damp from his running. you peered behind your shoulder at the hallway making sure it was empty. you swallowed thickly with nerves in fear of getting caught before forcing three fingers into the hole and ripping the cement block from the wall. you could now fit your head through the hole comfortably if you wanted to.

"pietro," you said placing the block beside you. he faltered and gestured with an open hand in confusion at the now gaping hole in the wall. you couldn't help but pull your lips into a tight light suppressing the laugh you wanted to let out at the look on his face. using his speed he rushed to face you, eyes wide examining the open edges of the cement.

"you-"

"are strong," you cut him off jokingly.

the two of you sat staring at each other. it was weird to be face to face after countless months of unknowing the other despite being separated by only a wall. you took in his appearance. he was handsome. up close you could now see the slight curls to his hair and the short facial hair. his shoulders broad and built. under his sky-blue eyes were dark circles from the lack of sleep but it suited him. he was stunning and pietro was thinking the same about you. your hair fell haphazardly across your forehead. your eyes were kind and gentle, much different than the stone-cold eyes he had imagined in his head. your lips were pulled to one side in the tiniest of smiles as you took in his appearance. pietro found it hard to believe the stories he has heard about your reputation as he stared at you. expression soft, eyes and smile kind, you looked battered and worn down but still so youthful as if you didn't fit in with the surrounding grey walls.

"are you okay?" you finally asked.

pietro's nostrils flared and his eyes fluttered shut, "i don't know."

you hesitated a moment before repeating his words from a few days prior, "it's okay to not know."

if you weren't staring intently at the man before you you would've missed the smile that flashed across his face at your remark. it was soon washed away when you both heard loud footsteps from down the hall. you both quickly turned towards the noise that was approaching pietro's cell, he gulped harshly as a guard came into view. he looked back at the wall expecting to still see your face but instead, he saw a metal hand escaping through the hole as if the cement was never removed.

metal...?

it must have been late in the night. the guards had already dropped off the atrocious meal they call dinner and returned to pick the trays up. they rarely patrolled the hallways at night, opting to smoke outside. it was eerie each night. the sound of dripping water from pipes echoed, the occasional gunfire could be heard from the woods outside, slight whispers could be heard from the twins once in a blue moon but it was rare. in a place like this, they didn't let you be a person so it was hard to act like one.

pietro was lying on the bed facing the ceiling making a laughable attempt at trying to get some sort of sleep. he was imagining his life before this when his family was all together, when times were happy, when he was just a little kid and not a young adult performing for crazed scientists. his eyes scanned the room at the sound of bricks moving before seeing your head pop into vision from the hole. pietro let out a small laugh through his nose seeing your sheepish smile.

you sat facing the other not saying anything at first. it was oddly comfortable being face-to-face with the one they call quicksilver. you couldn't put your finger on why though. you've spoken so few words to him but then again it was the first time you let yourself speak to someone in this building that wasn't a doctor or a guard. maybe it was you being naive but it felt okay and safe.

"what made you cry the other day?" he finally spoke his question causing you to blink a few times.

"i think... i think they do something to my head. i mean, i know they do," you thought bringing your fingers to your temple as if the gesture helped you remember, "but i think i'm starting to notice when i'm on missions. it's hard to really know though it's all a blur."

pietro nodded softly taking in what you had to say, "like... brainwashing?"

"it has to be. they recite something each time and then it's like i'm not me," you confessed, "but these past few missions i'll overhear things from strangers passing by or i'll see something and i can feel myself start to wake from the trance. i'm starting to remember life before here and i'm becoming aware of what they have me doing."

"whatever it is they have you doing just know you are still a good person," pietro spoke quietly.

"i kill people," you said bluntly looking him straight in the eyes. he averted his gaze slightly, his hand coming to caress his jaw.

"the person they turn you into out there isn't you. the real you is sitting in front of me now."

"how can you be so sure, you don't even know me," you questioned.

"i don't think an out right evil person would check to see if a stranger is okay... or compliment them the first time they see them," pietro joked slightly. you hung your head as your lips pulled back into a smile. pietro couldn't help the way his body leaned closer to the hole with a big smile on his face observing the way you became shy.

"no one in this building is perfect. we've all done things that are considered evil but if we manage to hold on to some sort of sense of ourselves i think we will be okay. i hope wanda and i get out of here soon. it was a mistake yanno, being volunteers, i regret it. it makes me feel worse knowing you had no say in the matter. you're here every day as a puppet against your will and yet i walked through these doors. every day i'm in pain and every day i regret it," pietro's accent got thicker as he got emotional.

you frowned at the silver-haired man, "life in here is already hard enough, there is no point in being hard on yourself."

his eyes were glossed over, internally fighting himself for the choices he had made in the past. you reached your hand into the hole searching for his. this was out of character for you but it some selfish way you wanted the warmth of his hand to comfort you as well. it was peaceful sitting in silence holding each other's hand. the only form of physical touch the two of you ever received was in the form of torture. gruff hands slapping, punching, shoving, and poking you seemed like a far and distant sensation compared to the safety you felt as pietro's thumb traced the back of your hand.

"you should rest," pietro finally broke what felt like an hour's long silence, "they usually take you first."

you sighed deeply but you knew he was right. god knows what hour it was and you needed to try and get some sleep. pietro gently let go of your hand and allowed you to snake it back through the hole.

"thank you pietro. i hope we can talk more soon," you told him earnestly.

"i hope so too," he gave you a lopsided grin before you grabbed the brick.

it was mere days later when you two found yourself in the same position. the guards were out, pietro had finished his talks with wanda, the disgusting dinners were consumed and taken away, and here you were staring into the sky amongst grey walls. pietro noticed your face had small cuts scattered on it from a mission you were sent on a day prior but you had made no mention of it thus far. you were currently enthralled by pietro telling a story from his younger days. pietro was funny and he didn't even need to try, it had been years since you felt the burning sensation in your sides from laughing too much but he made it easy. and pietro loved the sound of your laugh, it was beautiful, irresistible almost. the two of you went back and forth sharing any memories you could remember from life before these walls and it was effortless but you knew just like the other nights it was soon time to hide the hole.

"you're really pretty," you confessed.

pietro's mouth formed an 'o' shape before turning into a giddy smile, "you are beautiful, dragă"

this time it was pietro plugging the brick back into the wall just as he was about to finish a loud booming voice came from your side of the wall. his hands shook slightly at the volume of the guard yelling 'soldier' in russian to you. pietro could no longer see what was happening but he heard you stand up and reply back and leave the cell.

although you and the guard walked in silence you knew he saw you talking to pietro. you continued to clench and unclench your fists trying to calm yourself for what was to come.

"Тебе нравится мальчик?" (do you like the boy?) the guard asked placing a firm grip on your shoulder, pushing you towards the all too familiar room. you stayed quiet and you heard the man snicker to himself, satisfied with your silence.

in the room, several other guards were standing in position, many holding guns. you saw the needles and wires spread across the small rolling table with a doctor in a white coat hunched over it. the monitors sitting idly waiting to read your vitals. the guard that escorted you pushed you into the contraption that stood before you forcing your body flush against the back. immediately automatic shackles secured your arms to the chair and the whirling sound of small electric plates situated themselves against the sides of your head.

"смешно... ты, кажется, молчишь только рядом с нами," (funny... you only seem to be quiet around us.) the doctor smirked, admitting they all were aware of you and pietro speaking. the doctor sucked his teeth as you glared at him, unwilling to confess to anything.

he picked up the mouth guard from the table wiggling it in front of your mouth waiting for you to open. you bit down in anger, all the muscles in your face twitching, your eyelids blinking rapidly pushing back any emotion daring to creep up at what you knew was about to happen. it wasn't often they wiped your memory, only when they deemed your actions defied them, like not getting enough information on missions which was rare. it had been months since the last time they did this. you screamed in agony as the electric volts zapped against your head. sweat started to bead across your thrashing body. it was indescribable and it wasn't a short process but once the currents stopped your world was black and each time you'd wake up in your cell with no recollection.

it was a week later you found yourself in the training room after being isolated since the memory wipe. your shoulders were hunched forward, chest facing the ground, your arms swayed ever so slightly by your side, your breathing was ragged after being beaten in the form of "training" for the last two hours. the doctors insisted it would be over soon, one final test for the day before you could go to your cell. the door creaked open and the familiar sound of boots entered, you didn't even bother looking up.

"солдат!" (soldier!) a guard yelled causing you to slowly pick your head up. at the door was a young man you'd never seen before, he wore tattered pants and a tank top, his hair was silver, and his blue eyes were opened wide in what you could only assume was shock. and though you didn't recognize him, pietro recognized you.

up until now, he had never seen your full figure before, only parts of your body that were visible through the hole. despite you clearly being injured and tired you stood tall and pietro could tell you were strong. the most alarming part about you was your arm... your metal arm. pietro's eyebrows scrunched together, head slightly cocked to the side examining the way the metal met your skin, some scar tissue bright red while others were faded.

before pietro could mutter any words aloud a doctor appeared from a side door and sauntered towards you holding a notebook.

"работа...установить..." (work...establish...) the doctor read.

"please, no," you whispered, your neck screwing to the side as if it will block the doctor's voice.

"станция..." (station...)

pietro watched as your chest heaved air in and out as the doctor continued reciting from the book, circling your body like a predator ready to attack. he watched as your teeth chatter together and your metal hand flexed. the doctor stopped behind your right shoulder leaning down slightly so his mouth was level with your ear. pietro couldn't hear the whispers but he felt nervous at the doctor's intense eye contact and the loud clap of the notebook being shut. the doctor lazily dragged his hand off your shoulder whispering one final command before exiting the way he came.

pietro jumped at the sound of the door behind him slamming shut as the guards snuck out, leaving only the two of you in the room.

"wha- WOAH!" pietro shrieked as you came barreling towards him at full speed, your metal arm raised high in the air to come down on his body.

"please i don't want to hurt you," but his pleas were left unheard as you socked him in the jaw, tossing him to the ground and repeatedly punching his stomach. although being fast, pietro found himself trapped beneath you and it took moments before he was able to get out and start running in different directions. slowly, you walked towards a vacant chair in the corner, eyes trained on the blue light racing around the room. you gripped the chair waiting for the right moment before launching it across the room and nailing pietro square in the back. you stalked towards his groaning figure grasping his shoulder and flipping him onto his back where you straddled him and punched at his face.

to pietro's relief, the doctor came back into the room beckoning an order to you. pietro watched from underneath your frame as your pupils twitched at him and your head robotically moved to face the doctor. you refrained from punching pietro anymore and stood up and walked to the doctor and the two guards who waited behind. one of the guards stabbed a needle into your neck and once more the world was black.

you couldn't even begin to guess what time or day it was when you finally woke up on the floor of your cell. your body was violently shaking from the cold and you started to panic. as much as you tried to think of any memories you couldn't, it was like your mind was a blank slate and it was causing you to panic even more which then turned into anger. you grabbed the small bed and threw it at the wall and screamed loudly. you repeatedly slammed your metal first into the wall causing dust to liter the air. guards walked past your cell but simply laughed and continued to make their way down the hall and off into the outside world.

"hey," a voice spoke unsteadily. you whipped your head around to the other wall and saw a face peeking through.

"it's okay," the man tried to ease seeing your angered state approaching him. you kneeled in front of the hole looking intensely at his face.

"who are you?"

this question confirmed pietro's fear that they wiped your memory. he had foolishly hoped that in the training room you were just too worn down to recognize him when he walked through the door before they sent you into your trance.

"my name is pietro. you may not remember but i am a friend," he spoke hoping to see any form of recollection cross your face. instead you examined him quietly before turning your head and examining the room. it was lit dully, your bed now turned on its side, and there was a tray of food sitting near the cell door that looked to be days old.

"this is a hydra base," pietro continued without you having to ask, "the people here are not good. they hurt us, they experiment on us, many people have died here. i have a sister here, a twin," he said pointing a finger behind him, "her name is wanda. they call us the enhanced. we both possess abilities no normal human would have due to their experimentations. we came as volunteers and i regret it."

"am i a volunteer?" you questioned.

"no, dragă. a few weeks ago you told me they found you during the winter, alone. you had been lost in the forest and they made promises to help you find home but you never returned. you said you aren't sure but you think it's been ten years since," pietro confessed, his accent thick with sorrow.

you hummed, unsure of what to say. you remembered none of this so what could you really say back? was pietro even telling the truth? how could you decipher fact from fiction in a state like this? despite the confusion and the absence of memory, something deep within you said it was all true, everything he was saying was right.

"why is my arm gone?" you whispered, slightly touching the contorting metal panels near the elbow.

pietro couldn't help but feel a pain in his chest as he observed you try and remember any semblance of yourself, "i- i don't know. what i do know is the doctors, they like you. you are very important to them and they make you do dirty work. the reason you can't remember anything is because they wipe your memory."

"i suppose that makes sense," you nodded slightly giving pietro a bitter smile.

"i am sorry for what they do to you," pietro stated earnestly. if he could help you in any way he would, over and over again, he would.

you paused, taking in pietro's face which held some serious injuries. the skin on his brow bone was split, his eye was bright red with blood and a nasty purple-green bruise on his jaw.

"did i do this to you?" you asked, slowly reaching your hand through to gently touch his jaw.

"of course you didn't my love," he murmured, tenderly grabbing your wrist and threading his fingers with yours.

"if there comes a time when i hurt you, please don't go easy on me," you pleaded.

"i cannot promise you that," he smiled at you softly, bringing his other hand to enclose your freezing one.

and pietro was being truthful. he couldn't nor he wouldn't harm you in the event the doctors forced you to fight. he would run and dodge the punches, and the chairs being thrown at him, but he couldn't fight you, he just couldn't. it pained him to see the different version of yourself, the real you locked inside begging to come out of the brainwashing.

pietro didn't think it would be so soon when he would be in the same position as before, standing across from you in the training room as the same doctor circled your body, reciting words in russian that would transform you into their super soldier. it was only hours after the two of you decided to sleep that pietro was ripped from his bed and dragged into the training room.

the doctor once again closed the notebook but before leaving he looked over at pietro, "it is a shame," he started with a thick russian accent, "her memory wiped twice in a week. i thought maybe you two would work well as a team. we could start sending you out on missions with her. but it seems she has developed a hm. what do you call it?" he fake pondered, "ah! a crush! and that is not something we take kindly here. she provides more to us here than you do so..." with that the doctor whispered one final thing in your ear before leaving.

pietro watched carefully as you headed towards him and at the last moment he sprinted away causing you to concave the metal door. you whipped your head around, eyes wide in anger, tracking the movements of the man. he was fast and this irritated you. sticking your leg out you managed to trip him at the last moment and his large frame hurled to the floor. you gripped his shirt in one hand and used your metal hand to punch him in the side of the face.

"it's me!" the man below you yelled. this had no effect on you and you raised your hand to hit him again but he grabbed your fist. the two of you violently struggled against each other before you used your hand clutched to his shirt to slide him away with great force.

"please i said i would never hurt you. it's me, pietro!" the man pleaded getting up to run past your approaching figure. for some reason hearing the name pietro caused a loud screeching pain in your head.

"what are you doing to my head?" you screamed, clutching your head in your hands, eyes screwed shut.

pietro stopped running and looked at your trembling figure, "i'm- i'm not doing anything."

you tried ignoring the high-pitched shrilling noise and stumbled to pietro. you grabbed onto his shoulders and pushed him backward against the wall. although you moved him with force pietro could feel the weakness in your grip this time. he stayed silent looking into your eyes that were frantically examining him.

"the noise..." you muttered bringing your metal hand to hold your head.

"there... there is no noise," pietro spoke confused. there was no noise in the room besides heavy breathing.

"who are you?" you probed shoving him roughly against the wall.

"it's me. pietro. i live next to you in the cell. i came here as a volunteer with my twin sister wanda. you are here against your will. they found you when you were little and never let you leave. they hurt you every day, they aren't good people. trust me, please. it's me your friend," pietro rushed hoping to break through to you.

he felt your grip slightly falter as you looked him up and down. he couldn't make out the emotion in your face as you screwed and unscrewed your features together, internally fighting yourself. he wasn't scared, but nervous rather for your next move or action.

as pietro spoke the high-pitched noise continued to grow louder causing severe pain in your head. it made you nauseous and your vision would cloud with blinding bright light. you hung your head gasping for air as a vague image of a cell came to memory. you tried blinking it away but it would reappear, this time you'd see a man. the man you were pushing against the wall. his head was peeking through the cell wall. instinctually you pressed him further into the wall, pietro's shoulder blades started to ache. a new memory came and it was pietro holding your hand, his thumb caressing yours.

you shot your head up looking at the man. your eyes were glossy with tears from the pain you were experiencing. not just the physical pain of the intense noise but the mental pain as you tried to piece together who he was. his appearance was becoming familiar. his clothes, his broad shoulders, the facial hair on his jaw and upper lip, the cut on his eyebrow, the dark roots of his hair and the silver ends, and his eyes.

you dropped your grip and pietro's eyes contorted in confusion.

"like the sky..." you murmured.