#this is more graphic than most of my posts but i've been on edge.

[therian-cat-mitzy]

Human facial expressions don't make sense. If I have my lip pulled up, eyes narrowed, and teeth bared, I am not "disgusted" or "judgy". I'm about ten seconds away from mauling you. The only place disgust has in this situation is what I'll feel when your blood is on my teeth.

[maddiesbookshelves]

📚🗓 Mid-Year Freakout Tag 2024 🗓📚

Thank you @cleopatras-library for the tag ☺️

How many books have you read so far?

10 novels, 2 graphic novels and uh, like 10 or more manga? I don't track all of them

What genres have you read?

Fantasy, historical, romance and mystery. Sometimes several of those in the same book

Best book you’ve read so far in 2024?

Probably The Briar Book Of The Dead, by A. G. Slatter if we're talking about novels only. But the graphic novel Rivages Lointains by Anaïs Flogny is just so good, I'm obsessed with it. If you can, please read it, it's French but it's been translated into English and Italian

Best sequel you’ve read so far in 2023?

The only ones I've read were either manga or the full Dr. Greta Helsing trilogy by Vivian Shaw, which I've read back to back. So either that (book 3, Grave Importance), or the manga Requiem Of The Rose King, by Aya Kanno, that I reread and finally finished after YEARS (yes the ending ended ME)

New release you haven’t read yet, but want to

There are way too many, and I keep seeing more at work, I'm gonna die of frustration. Evocation by S. T. Gibson is eyeing me very strongly because of the internet. As is The Spare Man by Mary Robinette Kowal, from where it's sitting on my coworker's display (it only came out in February in France)

Most anticipated release for the second half of the year

I don't know honestly. The one book I was really waiting for this year was A Crane Among Wolves because I loved June Hur's previous books, and since I've read it now (it's very good btw), I'm not waiting for anything else

Update I learned something as I was writing this post: HEAVENLY TIRANT MIGHT STILL BE COMING OUT THIS YEAR???? DECEMBER 24????? MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS TO US???? HELLO?????? After Xiran told us the release date had been pushed back I thought for sure it would come out next year but apparently not so YEAH THAT'S MY MOST ANTICIPATED RELEASE OF THE YEAR, PERIOD

Biggest disappointment

It's a toss between How To Kill Your Family by Bella Mackie, and A Far Wilder Magic by Allison Saft, for reasons that are very different. If it wasn't for that ending, How To Kill Your Family wouldn't even be there but unfortunately. And A Far Wilder Magic just wasn't for me. I didn't expect it to be YA romantasy so I was sorely disappointed

Biggest surprise

Probably A Sign Of Affection by Suu Morishita? Don't get me wrong, I love shoujo (I know, I don't like romance novels but I love shoujo, it makes no sense, don't look at me) and I thought I would like it but I didn't expect to like it this much

Book that made you cry

I cry so often when I read/watch/listen to things that it all gets mixed up in my memories. I think I cried for Rivages Lointains, I definitely cried for Requiem Of The Rose King HAHA. I might have cried for Run Away With Me, Girl by Battan, I'm not sure. All of those are manga by the way, I don't remember if I cried reading a novel this year

Book that made you happy

The Bandit Queens made me happy because the ending was great (unlike How To Kill Your Family) which healed me a little

Most beautiful book cover of a book you’ve read so far this year

Aaaaaaa I don't know. The cover (and sprayed edges) for the French edition of A Far Wilder Magic are a big part of why I even bought it in the first place, but also A Crane Among Wolves...... And of course Aya Kanno's art is just so beautiful, all the covers for the Requiem Of The Rose King series are 👌

How are you doing with your year’s goal?

I had set a goal of 40 on goodreads/storygraph but I might have underestimated how work would impact my reading habits. But also, I'm not dead set on reaching that goal, I just want to read

What books do you need to read by the end of the year?

I'd love to read more of the books I already own because it's becoming a problem. Other than that, there's no urgent need

That was fun so if anyone wants to join in, please feel free!

[op81s]

hiiiiiii 🎨

now. fair warning. this got LONG. so. sorry about that. you're just too talented.

okay but i just saw this graphic so. that's the favorite right now 'cause the colours? the style? the concept? the space/magic vibes? devastating for me in particular? the font/style choice in the 'la pista magica'? stunning. 'cause the edges aren't smooth? they have a bit of texture to them, which i LOVE 'cause it makes them look like ink? like they've been written on paper?

BUT. moving on to more of your things 'cause i can't name just ONE of your things to be my favorite.

the first edit i ever saw of yours was the bottle cap series? which. i still LOVE them. the way you gave each of them such a different personality/vibe. my favorites are 'hamilton's seltzer' and 'tsunoda's strawberry soda' but i love ALL of them and i fully intend to buy all of them the next time i order from redbubble 👀

now. we absolutely cannot talk about your edits without bringing up your race poster series. 'cause. i might have said that your most recent poster was my fave but. it's got some TOUGH competition there. the zandvoort, the belgian, the hungarian, the silverstone, the austrian, the spanish. like. do you EVER miss? i say not. now. to stop this from getting veryVERY long. some cliff notes. the zandvoort one brings out some real 'spending the day at the beach' vibes. and the simple colours makes it long real nice in juxtaposition to the hungarian one 👀 'cause that also has simple colours but much darker ones? now. the belgian one. i LOVELOVELOVE old american national park posters? so you being inspired by them when making that one? for me actually 😌 the silverstone ones? all bangers. a very different vibe to the other posters but so clean and beautiful? the bright colours all look so nice together. they would all make beautiful posters on their own but together? there's just something special then. now. the austrian one. MIGHT be the actual fave. it's difficult af 'cause they're. ALL. faves. but. it's SO FREAKING COOL??????? it's the same sort of style as your pinned post and your galex aka THE BEST FUCKING STYLE??????? but DAMN, it must take an eternity and a half to make??????? the different text styles, finding colours that match nicely together but also stand out on their own? figuring out what to WRITE???? all the little comments??? 'indycar? logan sargeant app launch!' OUCH. in hindsight. 'williams? alpine? sauber? the big question' HILARIOUS. in hindsight. now. NOW. we get to another one where i'm like. is THIS one? actually my favorite?? 'cause. the spanish gp one??? so simple? but so stunning? really gives off old school vibes and i fuck with that. and there's NOTHING superfluous there? it has everyhing it needs and not a bit more. it just makes the rainbow track stand out even more.

+ bonus faves

this alex one. it just- i LOVE the style you went with for the car? so much? it just gives me. balloon? vibes? one of those novelty balloons you get from a clown? idk. it's hard to describe but i lovelovelove it.

this one for miami/logan 'cause i would LOVE to have this on my wall/slanted ceiling with the rest of my art/postcards that's on there. i know it's technically a recreation of the days of thunder poster but with an f1 twist but i would argue it's actually better than the days of thunder poster 'cause it doesn't have any tom cruise on it. 10/10. would buy. (sorry issy. not a cruise fan 😅)

this paramore one. once again. WOULD and WILL buy this as a poster when i make my next redbubble order. 'cause. i. love. space. so. much. and i just love this piece so much 'cause it's quite simple but also very beautiful.

your 'meet deafleppard' one? absolutely. BAFFLINGLY good. like. how does one even? (also i'm still freaking curious what your beef with pinocchio is????)

this lewis one????????? 'cause. 'don't call it a comeback. i've been here for years'? *CHEF'S KISS* combining ll cool j and lewis is the best fucking decision ever. actually.

the galex one????? no words. just stab me. 'he's always been at the front in everything he's done and i don't know what the hell is going on and i feel really bad form him because's hes being made to look like an idiot and he's absolutely not' INSANE to include. they drive me crazy. (also i adore the little gif like sections? the little moving heart/etc)

this seb one. 'cause. yes. (again. would put on my wall.)

send me a 🎨 and i'll tell you my favourite gifset/edit/fic/art piece/fanvid/etc of yours

[catoi-calamari]

I’m dying out here, the gradual enshittification of all products is killing me. Could you please share your knowledge of brands that actually make good, durable clothing items? Tsym!!!

The Big One v3.0:More Boots!

>Blundstone

>Thursday Boot Co

This version is focused mainly on work/masc clothing . If anyone has recommendations for more decorative/femme clothing, please share them with me so I can update the post :)

Make sure to check the version number if you see this in the wild, it may have updated!

Recommendations marked with an asterisk (*) means I have no personal experience with them, but I've heard enough good things that I added them to the list.

1. Shirts/Tops

First of all, I'm a huge whore for 100% cotton, but in theory polyester will last longer. On the other hand, polyester will last forever, seeping into fish and local blood streams for millenia to come. Second of all, if you want cool graphics then I'd highly recommend doing it yourself. I'd say the easiest options for getting reliable, long lasting graphic tees are screen printing, tie dye and vinyl decals, but this depends on what resources you have access to. Keep in mind this is for shirts that you'll (hopefully) be able to wear for over a decade since really any decent cotton tee will last a decent amount of time.

Recommendations

-ASCOLOR

These are the best blank t shirts I've found, period. Stitching is great, the fabric is thick, and from what I can tell they're slightly more inclined to ethical production than your average mass produced T-shirts. They also sell nice jackets and coats as well!

I might try out a couple of pairs of pants from them to see what's up.

Band Tees

For some reason these tend to be really solid, depending on how big the artist in question is. Usually printed on Gildan, which ain't bad. They are expensive though, which means they may not be as great of a deal

This would be the section where I talked about stuff that isn't just t shirts but idk any brands that make consistently durable examples for a good price.

2. Pants

I would recommend a maximum of 1-2% elastane if you're getting skinny jeans, otherwise it's 100% cotton denim baby. Durability decrease exponentially the higher percentage of non-denim there is.

Also, I highly recommend selvage jeans if you can afford them. They use a tighter knit and are made to be worn in.

For cargo pants, get something that's thick and has ripstip material.

Recommendations

-Levi's

The lowest in price I would go tbh. I recommend the 502s since they're 100% cotton but 511s have been a staple of the street fashion world for a while. They're skinnier jeans ain't bad either, but I feel like they're starting to hit the edge of being too thin.

-The Unbranded Brand

Focused solely on getting the price of selvage jeans down to affordable levels. Fair warning, I bought a pair of black jeans (with 1% elastane) and the formaldehyde smell still hasn't gone away. I have an indigo pair that smell fine though, and besides that they're my favorite pairs of jeans.

5.11

Now most """Tactical Apparel""" stores tend to be a bit...off, but since this is a post about durable clothing, I gotta mention the probably undiagnosed autistic guys with a special interest in manly man pants. I have a pair of 5.11 Canvas Cargo Pants and I've taken these things camping, through outdoor airsoft fields, and underground deathcore moshpits. The bastards still looked mint when I finally handed them off to my partner because my ass got too juicy to wear them and gave me a blister when I spent all morning working for a landscaper. (That job was the final straw in my anti-lawn radicalization arc btw.)

To reiterate, I would look for anything that's ripstip and not paper thin. Nylon also works but the texture sucks.

Duluth Trading Co.*

Carhartt if they didn't sell out, from what I've heard

Insert Mid Level Selvage Jean brand that's about $150-$250 a pair*

3. Shoes

Always invest in whatever goes between you and the ground. This goes for mattresses and chairs as well. And for fucks sake get something that can be resoled, and find a cobbler near you. Also look up the Sam Vines Boot Theory of Economics.

Recommendations

Vans

Unlike converse, I've only ever bought one pair. The problem with Vans is the lack of impact absorption, something that can be fixed with aftermarket inserts in theory. Old-Skools take insoles fairly well. Their ComfyCush line is aimed at fixing this problem but I haven't tried any of them. I did get a pair of Ultraranges recently and they seem decently durable, but I've yet to really start wearing into them.

Any skate shoes in general*

Theyre made to be dragged across concrete at relatively high speeds. Try to go for suede.

Solovair*

Now, I have beef with Doc Martens since they sold out, but they're still cheap, comfortable, and made out of leather, which is all you need. Anything lower and I would argue that it's too cheap. However, they can't be resoled, they're leather is kind of thin, and they definitely have a fast fashion mindset.

Solovair is a company that uses the original factories in England to make their own line of lookalikes, for a slightly higher price and slightly higher quality. I've heard their customer service is shit.

Redwing*

I have heard nothing but praise for these. I'm going to buy a pair of Supersole 2.0s once my current pair (which didn't make the list since they kinda went downhill) finally bite it.

Danner*

Another popular recommendation for leather boots.

There is a queer owned boot brand that has canvas and leather boots that are relatively cheap and have cool art but I forgot the name

3. Socks

Blundstones*

Chelsea boots but austrialian

Basically either get Darn Tough* or Point6 some decent socks from whatever brand works for you. I highly recommend merino wool hiking socks, and I just wear cotton socks during the summer.

4. Underwear

You do wear underwear, right?

Recommendations

TomboyX

Queer-owned business catered towards gnc people. Their stuff is dope, high quality, and made in the US with livable wages for their employees. Highly recommend.

5. Specialty

From cold weather gear to military surplus, this section covers everything else.

Recommendations

Patagonia*

I'm still amazed they're this popular and have this much of a focus on sustainability and longevity. Their sibling, North Face, definitely fell into the consumerism pit years ago but Patagonia has still been chugging along.

Military Surplus

I feel a bit guilty for gatekeeping the specific companies I like, but if you go to the right places (eBay) you can get durable clothing for SUPER cheap. It's usually not the highest quality, but it's better than the same thing from an outlet mall.

Chrome

Mainly a bicycling brand, their bags are the kind of things that last a stupidly long time. The internals of them aren't amazing, mainly just an empty main cavity with a laptop sleeve and a smaller separate pocket, but all of their stuff is rock solid. They also have a solid warranty as well.

Swiss Army

Yes, the knife guys. They haven't changed their looks since the late 90s but their backpacks are designed amazingly well. They also have a limited lifetime warranty. I've noticed some cosmetic wear on mine after a few months of using it pretty roughly, thankfully it's just skin-deep stuff but it's also different to older examples I've seen. Definitely more suited towards carrying books and folders.

[gauze-valley]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 1

Prompt: Emergency first aid, self done stitches

Finished my first post for @whumperless-whump-event's first prompt a liiittle late but I did it! This snippet is a precursor to. The only other thing I've written on this blog, which you can find here and here (in order!)

If u like the whole "caretaker has to care for themselves and suck it up so they can be there for people" trope, this might be for you!!

my stuff for this event probably won't be too polished, sorry about that! I'm just here to actually get myself to write :')

CW: Graphic description of self-suturing a wound, needles, graphic description of pain, laceration

[~1 and a half pages, 3rd person POV, OC/non-fandom]

If nothing else, at least the wound is only leaking. The stasis spell has held up surprisingly well, but the mirage-like waves in the magic aura around the wound tell Ira that he's made the right call in deciding it needs to be properly dealt with now, if the pain hadn't said as much already.

But he's exhausted. His limbs ache and there's a weight pulling on his body. He hasn't been off of his feet since early in the morning. A small reckless part of him says to recast the spell and lay down for a bit- what's the harm? He'll be closing this thing himself, and surely he could do it better with a little rest.

That'd be stupid, though. The overuse of healing magic is a risk for most already, let alone someone like Ira, whose mixed essentia halfway wants to reject every bit of holy magic that enters his body. He'll already be feeling the effects of this tomorrow, he's sure, and a second cast could put him entirely out of commission.

It's with a slow reluctance that he goes about cleaning the wound, sterilizing the area and wiping away the topmost layer of blood so he can actually see the edges More begins to seep out in response, but it's slow- the spell is still holding, and it's far more long than it is deep, so it seems safe to close. Unfortunately, the pain suppression is beginning to wear off, but that's all the more reason to get this over with.

Staring into the bathroom mirror, he tries to steel himself, conjure the motivation. He's done things like this before, in fact, he's done much worse procedures on himself than stitching a simple laceration, but his head is pounding and he just wants today to be over. Not that tomorrow will be any better. He's still needed- he won't be resting unless this gets much, much worse, and he intends not to let that happen.

Pushing the needle through the skin is easy. His hands are steady despite how worn and heavy they feel. They always are. Gritting his teeth through the pain, trying not to let the feeling of thread dragging through the punctures disrupt his focus, is much harder. Every sharp tug makes his skin crawl with disgust.

Ira resists the urge to rush it, because he's smarter than that and it's difficult enough to keep it neat considering the awkwardness of having to look down or look in the mirror for guidance, but fucking hell, every time this process is prolonged by having to clear away the blood again, he wants to scream.

Finally, he ties off the sutures, giving a relieved sigh that he immediately regrets as a dull pain shoots through his entire side. He carefully cleans the remaining blood once again and properly dresses the wound before throwing on a loose T-shirt. Now all he needs to do is clean up here before Six and Joy get back.

A ringing from the other room interrupts his thoughts. His phone. Muttering curses to himself, he walks over to snatch it off the bed and answers.

"Yes?"

"Chaplain Stepford, um, I'm sorry to bother you, but Chaplain Hart is busy and so is everyone else and-" Ira pinches the bridge of his nose. Of course, it's Clea. Can the acolytes not go an hour without his supervision?

"Is it urgent?" He interrupts, his tone short and exasperated.

"Not… exactly right now, but it could be. I think Lane's making a bad call about something and he won't listen to me."

"About what exactly? Spit it out." God, he knows he should be receptive to his students coming to him for help, but just once it'd be so nice if literally anyone else could deal with it.

"He wants to completely seal a wound, because he thinks-"

That's all he needs to hear. Lane should know better, but of course he doesn't. Of course he'd not only overestimate his own skill but completely disregard all warnings about only using drastic magic when it's completely necessary. "No. No, absolutely not. Tell him that if he does that without my approval, I'm releasing him from my mentorship."

"I already tried telling him that that'd probably happen. He said I'm just upset because we have different ideas. Can you come talk to him?"

"I'll be there in less than ten. Make it very clear to him that his ass is expelled from the program if I get there and that wound is mended shut. He's far from skilled enough to attempt that, I don't care how much he's read about it. If he insists on being a moron before I can get there, find another chaplain immediately."

"Okay, thank you-" Ira hangs up before Clea can finish. Really, he should probably thank her for bringing this to his attention, but all he can think about right now is how much worse the pain is getting, and how long it'll be before he can collapse into bed, and the utterly overwhelming thought of being on his feet all day again tomorrow, but this time with a fresh wound.

Forcing himself to struggle back into his robes feels like a monumental task. He doesn't even bother to take off his casual clothes first, he just wants to get this over with quickly and without bending his side, as much as he can avoid it.

He pops a couple of over-the-counter painkillers before he leaves, hoping that'll be enough for now.

[shadowkoo]

hello! i've been looking through eerieedits tutorials about banners but i was wondering if you could give some advice on fonts and how to place them & make them look pleasing? 🎆🖤

of course! i'm more than happy to help!

i normally start with my background, photo + gif overlays, coloring files, etc. then move on to placing the member png - which i typically place on either side, i don't like to place them too close to the middle of the banner for this exact reason of font placement. (if you're not using a member png then it doesn't matter as much on where you decide to put the title of your fic.)

fonts are last bc i don't know how i'm going to set up the images yet, it's easier to me to do it this way. sometimes you'll still have to shift things around but the placement of everything is usually very close to how it originally was.

once you're ready for fonts, think of what types you want to use. i normally use a combination of a block font and a script font (i made a post a while ago about font pairings that may help you too).

if the title is long, i like to emphasize certain words or the 'main' word too that way it doesn't take up a whole lot of space on the banner. I also like the words to overlap, but that's a personal preference!

i also have certain 'rules' and best practices already in mind when it comes to creating banners that i learned when i got my degree in graphic design. some that come up most often are:

leave space along the edges of the banner, don't let the font touch the edge.

in some cases the title can 'bleed' onto the subject (member pngs) but it really depends on the placement and as long as the text doesn't go over anyone's face).

keep a good ratio for title vs subject - i like to set up my banners to be 700 pixels wide and 300 pixels high, and then i use a 70 / 30 ratio for text and subject - so 70% text and 30% subject (not including background).

if the background is super detailed, try not to place text over anything of importance.

and there are probably more but that's all that i can think of at the moment. of course, if you ever need anything explained or want advice for a banner you're working on - my dms are always open and i'm more than happy to help!

below are some examples from my portfolio that may be helpful to visualize what i mean too! feel free to use any of those titles + font placements as an example :) hope this helps and best of luck designing!!!

[zyafics]

ok idk how to switch to my obx blog (hi summerpogue here) when asking but I just read all of heartbreak live and I wanted to spare my tl in my reblog but I have things to say

first of all, fantastic. no notes. this really is the most creative fic I’ve read in a long time and I don’t think I’ve ever seen one formatted like this - I can’t even imagine the time that goes into making this and keeping everything organized like my google docs is messy enough with just words so hats off to you, this is seriously amazing

I love the commentary from other students, genuinely had me cracking up and the spotify communication is unhinged but adorable and my girl cleo as the main bestie??? love seeing her featured so much in a fic. idk if I’m dumb and I missed it somehow but I’d love to eventually see the origin story of how reader came to be with the pogues bc it doesn’t sound like she grew up on Kildare? I wish you could have seen my face when I got to the end of what’s posted like I am truly on the edge of my seat and cannot wait for the next part (but like… I will, take ur time girly)

anyway I hope this wasn’t too long or anything, I just had to convey to you how much I’m enjoying this and if anyone needs me I’ll be reading everything else posted to your blog 😇

aaah!! sorry that it took me so long to answer, but thank you so much!! yeah, i think i (lowkey) trendsetted a new formatting dynamic on smaus on tumblr, but it was truly not my intention. i just love making graphics for my characters and decided hmm, maybe i could make a story with this, and boom, hb:l happened! i don't know how i've been able to be so organized, u should see my desk, it's like plastered with sticky notes about the plot haha

and i'm so happy to hear u adore the commentary from the students! i feel like i was talking to the different voices in my head trying to explain what's going on and to make it sound believable. and YES!! i love my girl cleo. she's so underrated and i adore cleo+pope so much, i decided to make them the main side characters for this fic! we gotta get more screentime for them!! and this is my way of doing it!! 😌

and no, you didn't miss anything. i didn't feel the need to clarify that how reader and the pogues meet. i feel like it wasn't as necessary. it was just—it was easier to name the gc pogues so that u guys knew what u were walking into. the thing about fanfic that i adore is that there's already set and established relationships, so when i go in and add a reader, i just want them to mingle with that relationship rather than to flesh-out an entire backstory. but yes, reader did not grow up in kildare!! she's just... a normal college student that managed to find friendship with the pogues and they treated her like one of their own. but overall, the social class dynamic is not a prominent feature in this story.

and omg, it is NEVER too long to hear from you. i love hearing how u guys perceive my stories and interpret them!! thank you so much for taking the time to drop a little ask in my inbox 💗

[porcelain-paladin]

I've got a long list of video games that I've started/half completed but never finished and I've decided to try to get through them bucket list style and maybe write a review for each.

I'm gonna post the list after this but I wanted to also give my review for the game I just finished: Moonlighter, developed by Digital Sun and published by 11 bit studios.

I got the physical version of Moonlighter on the Switch some years ago and only ended up getting through ~75% of the game, with about ~18hrs of playtime total. I picked it back up a couple days ago and absolutely BLASTED through it (shout-out to my developed brain) with a new, completed save file of a little over 12hrs.

GAMEPLAY: I <3 collecting fun little objects. If you give me a collectathon or a series of items to collect/organize I will kiss you. Moonlighter is an Shop Simulator by day and a Dungeon Crawling Rogue-lite/inventory management game by night (literally! It's why the game is called "Moonlighter" [as well as being the name of your shop]) that sees you trekking through interdimensional rifts into ever changing dungeons populated by autonomous sentinels. Fiery constructs, mutated plants, and haywire machines stalk the various chambers you must trek through to acquire artifacts to sell in your shop.

The gameplay loop is very fun at first, but I found that it got a stale after the first two dungeons. An example of this is how some artifacts you find are "cursed" and have certain conditions to be placed in your inventory, such as being restricted to edge spaces or destroying an adjoining object (some curses can even benefit you!) However, after the first few dungeon runs, you have seen all the types of curses, which don't really impact how you arrange your inventory. The design of the dungeons (while visually stunning) also lacks substantial variety after your first few delves, which led to me just mindlessly blasting through each room.

Combat is very fun, with many different weapon types to try (I ran through the game with a combo of the Star Platinum Gauntlets and the Lightning Bow) and creative enemies (which there is a small pool of for each dungeon) led to me developing different strategies for dealing with different enemy combos.

The retailing aspect of the game has some challenge, but is not punishing. You set your prices and experiment to find the acceptable cost of each item, dealing with the occasional thief or item request, but beyond that there isn't much else. It's more of a way to cash in your loot than add to gameplay. This, as well as the inventory management aspect felt like there was a lot of room to build upon that never happened.

After the first dungeon, you've been introduced to everything the game has to offer, and it becomes a bit of a rinse-and-repeat process throughout the rest of them.

STORY: It's fine. A lack of build-up towards the big revelation at the dungeons' existence towards the end feels rushed and out of nowhere. The lore of the locations *before* the plot ends up taking center stage while the plot throughout the game taking a very lax backseat. It's interesting to learn about each dungeon and what caused them to end up this way.

GRAPHICS/MUSIC: Holy shit do I love this game's art. The style and design of every enemy scratches a part of my brain (especially the Desert Dungeon, which was my favorite overall) The environments are rich with details and animations are smooth as hell. The music of the base game (composed by David Fenn) is super good and builds with each floor of the dungeon you are spelunking through (Each track is separate in the official OST, sans floors 1-2 in the desert dungeon, which are one track) DAMN do I love a build-up song.

POLISH: For the most part, the game is well-made. There are several recurring (very minor) bugs and graphical glitches that do feel frustrating to deal with, especially since the game went through several updates and a paid DLC release (haven't touched the DLC yet.) Items being unreachable behind chests in your home, stray green pixels when using the Mirror item, and the camera not properly centering on the larger-than-life bosses all stick out like sore thumbs in a game that otherwise is very nice to look at.

OVERALL: Moonlighter is a creative, visually stunning game that suffers from a stagnation in gameplay elements and some unfixed bugs that hinder an overall fun game. I don't fault the game too hard, being an indie game (especially with all the bullshit around Unity rn.) I'd say it's a 7/10, I'd recommend it if you want a game to wind down with that you don't have to put much thinking into

[moohemoth]

Also! Since I got the time finally, and the video kinda sucks ass at showing off details there's two things I wanna highlight about the graphics I've been doin:

Number 1, being the outlines! I've tweaked them to hell and back and will prolly do more, but how did I actually do it? Some post processing? Edge detection? The inverted hull method? How'd I get them to sorta look hand drawn?

Well if I turn off the depth test, all's revealed! Sorta!

It's the inverted hull method (with the vertices transformed in clip space in the shader instead of model or world space, you can actually read more about that here) and instead of rendering them in a solid color I overlay a noise texture in screen space to adjust the transparency of the outline per pixel, and it ends up looking pretty convincing (to my eyes, anyway.)

Getting the right noise texture was a lil tricky, you just gotta experiment a bit. I settled on something fairly large scale and smooth, and just do some extra math in the shader to adjust how it affects the transparency even more. Yes I should just bake it into the texture but c'mon. It's early.

At one point I even experimented with sampling the noise in the vertex shader and adjusting how much it displaces the vertices. It looked pretty neat but I think it'd work even better for thicker outlines, they ended up being barely visible on some meshes.

Number 2, keeping up the theme of a faux hand drawn style, the shading:

Closer.

CLOSER.

There. Crosshatching :3

Obviously not, completely true to actual crosshatching I've seen done in the references I had, but I love it well enough to not mess with it too much from now on. Maybe work on a better texture for it, the contrast, etc. But as for how it works it works just fine for me ]:3

It's done by multiplying any incoming light by the crosshatch texture, but only if it falls within a certain "band." Lighting in games usually works by taking the direction a surface is facing and comparing it to the incoming light direction, basically giving us a number that describes how much the two are facing one another. When this number is in a certain range, the "band," the texture is applied. Outside this band it's left alone.

I went over a buncha resources, but the one that helped the most was this comment from this reddit thread. Helped me with the math, and after whipping out my graphics tablet for the first time in a few years I had a texture ready to go for testing, and up above is the result :3

No closing words other than to say this was pretty fun to write, ngl. Hoping to do more of it! Gotta nail down the gif making/screenshot taking process still.

Alright here's the best demo I got of a new project. I love the way it looks and I think it's the strongest kinda visual style I've made so far ]:3

Threw together a real quick enemy spawner to get this done, got a lil overwhelmed towards the end. Thankfully the player can't die yet lol. Playing it made me realize how much I gotta stop iterating on how things look and focus a bit on how it actually plays, too. It's a bit too floaty for what I want.

[cherryblossomtease]

Chapter 15

18+ only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Because sometimes all you need is a simple reminder of who started this mess in the first damn place 💜

Warnings : as always 18+ only please- dom Zemo, sub Bucky, sub reader, punishment, m/m, m/m/f, light bondage

Authors Notes: Really didn't think I would be posting this weekend but it's a holiday in the states so why not! Still working on the rest by you know, neglecting everything that matters to create this fictional world. Anyhow, I can honestly say this is by far the most graphic story I've written so I'm a little nervous but it's already done, can't change it now, and I honestly don't want to! That said I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing!

~

Nothing lasts forever, especially when it’s this good. And this fabricated reality is about as good as it gets. Still, you know this boat will dock soon and goodbyes will be said. There’s really no way around it, try as you might to come up with a plan to talk Bucky into staying. Even now as you fight to stay asleep, your brain is working hard to create a solution while you refuse to give into your worries so early in the day.

You turn onto your stomach ignoring the dark thoughts, choosing instead to enjoy the feel of a strong arm across your back and a leg, hairy and heavy over both of yours.

Settling again with a content sigh, sleep starts to pull you back under. Thank the stars. You really aren’t in the mood— even if your dreams apparently are.

And what had you been dreaming about anyway?

A little house on a wide cliff overlooking water, and something else? The harder you try to remember the more you feel yourself slipping back into that dream space.

There was a small animal. What was it? A rabbit? Its fluffy body too close to the edge of the cliff. But in the dream you’d stayed standing in the doorway of the little house too indifferent to go and save it….

You feel bodies moving lazily, a stream of breath along your back that tickles; arms and legs and the men they belong to not fully awake and starting to stir like you, even as you quickly slip back into sleep until you’re standing in the doorway of that house again with the warm winds on your face and a view of the French sea below. The drop is dangerous. Deadly even.

Why haven’t you started talking Bucky into staying yet? Because you don’t like thinking about it too much. That's why. You start walking towards the edge of the cliff and you’re fully aware of your worlds crossing over —real thoughts present in your dream.

It’s probably bad luck to resent good deeds, after all that’s what he’s leaving you for. He wants to go off and live the life of the hero he never got to be. That and to keep Zemo’s location safe; but that’s besides the point. Hmm… Look at me, selfish even in my dreams. You smile when you shouldn’t.

Staring over the edge of the cliff it’s suddenly clear how unstable the ground is here and you gasp as it crumbles beneath your feet without warning.

Your eyes open with a start.

Well, that was a bit on the nose. Your subconscious does like to lay it on a thick sometimes, especially when you continue to ignore the things bothering you for too long and you've been setting these feelings aside since the text came through.

But just as quickly as you’re left to shake the shadow of the eerie dream, your frown fades replaced by a slow smile.

There is a very familiar poking at your ass that can sometimes be annoying-- this morning it’s welcome. You reach back and feel for the body that the greeting belongs too, comforted by the warmth and solid muscle of Bucky’s thigh under his tight boxers.

Mmmmm, the source of my distress and my desire, you think and grin into the pillows with a soft moan when his hand, hot and strong takes hold of your hip, massaging as he presses his erection into you.

You’ll talk to him about your dreams later.

Feeling a draft where there should be warmth, you open an eye to find breaks of sunlight in the space between Helmut’s arm and torso. When you turn your head you’re met with the sight of his bare chest, broad and covered in the softest dark hair. His necklace hangs off center, and you, as always, are helpless to it.

Your hand leaves Bucky’s thigh and your fingers slide over the delicate links in the chain and down into the soft chest hair as you turn your head to find he and Bucky locked in one hell of a kiss for so early in the day. It must have been their movement or the sound of their lips that woke you and pulled you from the doom of your fatal fall.

Dreams are so strange…

Your heart flutters when Helmut lays his hand over yours pressing it tight to his chest. “Good morning love birds.” You snicker and watch Bucky pull away from Zemo looking a little embarrassed. He does pause to kiss your cheek however before getting out of bed with a long stretch.

“So where the hell are we anyway?” He asks going to the balcony door, looking out at the passing waves. “Feels like nowhere.”

Zemo is looking down at you, stroking your profile, kissing your nose. “We should be well within the middle of it actually.” He answers, eyes still fixed on you.

“Perfect” You say softly letting him pull you so close that he blocks out the light as your lips meet.

“Breakfast is ready sir,” Oeznik calls from outside the bedroom door.

Zemo grumbles at the interruption but you’re starving. “What? I’m not going anywhere” You huff turning away, trying to escape. “You just said so yourself. I've got no place to go.”

“All by design” He smiles and lets you get up, giving your ass a smack as you go. Bucky is watching from the doorway and laughs at your yelp-hop-rub combination.

Swearing under your breath you go over to the closet, grab your silk robe and pull it on over your shorts and tank top, yawning as you drag your feet over to Bucky. You pat his stomach, kissing him quickly. “Hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Lets go up.” You say tugging at him as Zemo gets up and puts on his own robe across the room. It’s not the thick one you liked from before the raft, but silk like yours— Tom Ford if memory serves— god his influence is strong. How the hell do you remember this stuff?

You watch him scratch at the back of his messy nest of hair like he always does in the mornings, somehow looking both sexy and adorable, alternating between the two with the ease of flicking a light switch. You can only smile at the enigma that is Helmut Zemo and pull Bucky away from the doors.

The three of you leave the room shuffling along, making your way down the hall to the den. Zemo trails you and Bucky accepting a small espresso from Oeznik as he watches the way you and your Sergeant interact. Neither you nor Bucky are necessarily morning people and though it’s nearly ten, you’re both somewhat irritable now that you’re actually moving around and slightly hungover from yesterdays sangrias as you make your way up to the top deck where breakfast will be served.

The sun is so bright you huff about not being able to find your sunglasses and Bucky accuses you of being a diva. The only appropriate reaction is to give him a shove.

Zemo snorts a laugh at your near sibling like banter which you’d established after so many months together, but once you find your glasses on the bar counter and get a fresh cup of coffee and a bloody Mary chaser in your body you’re feeling like a new woman ready to conquer the day… a day spent doing nothing really.

It’s all so casually decadent that it’s nearly sinful. Whats the one? The sin that doesn’t sound as good as lust but feels better after all that fornicating you’ve been doing— Sloth? Yes, you think reaching for what’s left of your blood Mary from the lounge chair, the ultimate of all the sins. Thou shalt not be a lazy ass sloth all day on your yacht.

Cheers.

You read on the deck for a while, play a few rounds of shuffle board with Bucky by the pool and attempt to best Zemo at chess in the den.

Lunch is wonderful, and you think you will need to meet this mystery chef at some point before the trip is over followed by a nap on the bedroom balcony.

When you wake up in the very late afternoon you venture down the hall with your book and unexpectedly find the men in your life moaning on the floor of the den in a tangle of beautifully tanned arms and legs. So you very quietly slip past, feeling a flush rise up your neck to your cheeks highlighting your wide but tight lipped smile.

You stay above decks giving them privacy feeling only the slightest twinge of jealousy. Not because you think you’ve been excluded but because you could use another session like last night.

A shiver runs deep in your belly thinking of the way Helmut brought you to climax, but you’re still more than happy to give them time alone. After all, you’ve had the Baron to yourself for far longer than Bucky.

You sink down onto the upper deck sofa, the image of them entwined, the sounds of their heavy breathing and Bucky’s near innocent moans enough to make you consider touching yourself but you wait, letting the urge build, one of them if not both will take care of you later.

So when Bucky comes up and finds you with a funny look on his face you’re completely confused. “Whats wrong?” You ask putting your book down.

He’s poured a drink and sits down beside you on the couch.

“I don’t know if I can do it.” He says shaking his head tossing back the bourbon.

“Do what?” You have an idea but you thought for sure he’d be eager to try, at least it looked like they were well on their way to his first time.

“Letting him control me, I’ve never had someone tell me no. Not like this.”

“Oh” You smile. It’s the no sex. The lack of it is a cruel form of control but the end results are glorious, if he could just be patient enough. “He won’t let you come?” You ask a little more patronizing than you’d intended.

“No!” Bucky whines taking his cue from you and you stifle your laughter. He’s so cute, even in the throws of his sexual agony. “And it’s making me crazy. I mean I’m already crazy but this is different.” He looks around and leans closer to you. “If you were to so much as look at my cock right now, I’d be done.” He says under his breath.

You let go and laugh rolling your eyes. Dramatics seem to come as naturally as submission to him. “That’s against the rules.” You warn eyeing him sidelong and attempting to go back to your book.

“I can’t take it. Fuck the rules.” He says again pulling the paperback from your hand.

You wave your finger in his face. “James. You’re not allowed.” You say playfully.

“Please.” He begs running his finger down your cheek, brushing your neck and gliding along your clavicle where he knows you’re sensitive.

“I can’t!” You lean away a little surprised by his attempt.

“He won’t know!”

You shake your head “I know but…” You try not to smile.

“I can’t take it.” He insists leaning in to kiss you. “I promise; it won’t take long.”

You give in and laugh sensing his desperation as you kiss. He does feel tense. The muscles of his arm and shoulder are wound tight as a chord. You smile against his lips letting him ease you down onto the couch, your book dropping to the floor as he moans, sliding his hand down your thigh, pushing your knee up and his own hips forward letting you feel what you’re fairly certain is the most rock solid hard on you’ve ever had pressed to your body. You whisper his name as his lips find their way to your neck and his hand slides between you to free himself from those amazing shorts.

“Shame, I had every intention of making your patience worth the effort. But you do love to prolong your torment, don’t you soldat.”

You gasp and Bucky hangs his head as Zemo comes sauntering over. Your laughter is a mix of nerves and feeling like you’ve been caught sneaking around with a boy like a damn teenager. It’s been years since you’ve felt a rush like this. Leave it to the Baron to stir that old excitement again.

“Don’t move” Zemo orders, pointing a finger in your face. You freeze, legs open where Bucky was, your arms tight at your sides. “Sit” He growls at Bucky who obeys begrudgingly as he slides back onto the couch.

Very quickly Zemo shoves your legs closed and grabs you by the arm pulling you up to standing. You lean away as he shakes his head keeping you close, his hold so tight you wince “I thought you knew better by now” He scolds you sounding disappointed.

“I told him not too?” You try looking as innocent as possible. You truly had no intentions of fucking him, but maybe a quick hand job?

There is a flicker of excitement in Zemo’s eyes. It's been so long since you’ve given him a reason to really go for it and you hold in your smile because you’re meant to be sad and hang your head. “I’m sorry Baron.”

He ignores your attempts to apologize and pulls you over so that you’re standing in front of Bucky. He looks you both over for a moment thinking and then smiles. You don’t know if you love or hate to see him looking so pleased. Nothing “good” ever comes of that smile.

“Look James.” He says, waiting until Bucky raises his head. “I want you to see what listening to your eager cock and not my rules get gets you— and her.” He tells Bucky before giving you his undivided attention.

Zemo turns your back to Bucky and you feel his hand between your shoulder blades pushing just a little. You bend at the waist, not all the way, just enough to make sure Bucky knows where his attention should be.

This flouncy little designer sun dress you’ve changed into after your nap only helps direct his gaze as Zemo drags the fabric up slowly so that the reveal of your ass is yet another way to torment him all on its own and you give yourself over to the Baron and wonder how bad this will be.

“Pull them down.” He tells you, his hand smoothing over your simple lace panties. His voice is not so angry as it was when he found the two of you, but every bit as firm, and you glance up at him as you hook your thumbs into the waist band. He nods and you quickly obey, pulling your underwear over the curve of your hips and ass and swear you hear Bucky groan when you bend to pull them from your ankles letting him see the diamond shape of your pussy from behind for just a second, your smile hidden from view.

When you stand again, Zemo offers his forearm. You rest your stomach against him, your hand gripping his shirt, the other you will have to try very hard not to cover your backside with because you know that the breeze will be the last nice thing that you feel.

He tosses your dress back up holding you, adjusting the way he stands just a little so that you are safe but immobile.

“Count them off; to five.” He says leaning just a bit closer. The tone in his voice is confident. Zemo knows that you’re well aware of what this means.

“Yes Baron.” You say exhaling, trying to prepare, but five? Fuck. He does not intend on holding back. If he was being playful he would give you ten or more, but five? He knows you won’t be able to take more that that.

You dig your fingers into his forearm and hold your breath.

The first strike makes you cry out.

The way Zemo can raise his hand and bring it down on your ass is unrivaled. He doesn’t mess around. There is no teasing, no playing, no cute little taps to warm you up. Just instant punishment.

“One.”

Your voice shakes and the rousing heat of adrenaline spreads through your arms and legs.

Again he lifts his hand and brings it down quickly with a stinging force that sends shock waves through your body. Your cry is weaker this time, trailing longer.

“Two.”

You pull his shirt tighter into your fist, your cheeks are on fire already when you feel the air stir as his hand rises again. You wonder if Bucky is watching, you wonder if he see’s how your thighs flex and your flesh shakes when the Baron strikes you.

You close your eyes and draw in your bottom lip trying not to moan, but you arch your back and your hips begin to circle ever so slightly with the anticipation of the next smack. You’re practically whimpering as you offer up your backside for more.

Zemo can feel the light vibration of pleasure sounding in your chest and his laughter is a low, very amused rumble as he raises his hand just a little higher this time.

The next smack lands and you toss your head back with a gasp. You would have gone to your knees if he wasn’t strong enough to hold you up. “Three” You whisper but you don’t move. The air brushes your pussy, wet in spite of your reddening skin.

“Don’t look away.” Zemo says.

There is the answer to your previous question. Bucky likes it, but it’s not always easy for him to watch.

“James!” Zemo snaps and waits. Bucky must be looking again because you feel the Baron move.

The fourth strike comes and you steady yourself knowing you can take it, wanting it, loving it as much as your feel your legs shaking. “Four”

You’re breathing hard, as you anticipate the final blow, desperate for it to be over but sorry for it to end. You rest against him for just a second feeling both safe in his hold and powerless to his dominance.

When the last of your punishment lands you hang your head, rounding your spine unable to offer yourself anymore. You can not pretend and this is why he’s given you so few.

Letting your hips drop as your body shudders and a single tear falls, you whisper, “Five” And only Helmut hears you say it.

Very gently he pulls your dress down, the soft cotton is cool over your burning skin and he turns you around to face him.

He brushes the tear from your cheek, holding you in such a way that you can go limp in his arms. “It wasn’t that bad, you’re just out of practice.” He says smiling at you knowing it wasn’t kind either.

You’d love for him to know just once. Maybe let Bucky give him a slap across the ass to make it fair. But when you look at him the thought is all wrong if not hilarious and you just shrug a little and hang your head again, resting on his chest.

“No breaking rules.” He scolds affectionately, “Even if you’re only trying to help. Understood?”

“Yes Baron.” Your voice is very small.

He gives a nod, kisses your forehead and looks over his shoulder at James. “So, is this what you wanted?”

“No.”

“No… no I don’t think it is.” He agrees. “But I understand. She’s damn near impossible to resist still you must learn to control yourself. Apparently I’ve not made that clear. Perhaps a more direct approach.”

You both look at him wide eyed. What’s more direct than this you think not even close to recovered from your spanking.

“Both of you, go down to our bedroom.” He says as though nothing has ever been more obvious “Take off your clothes. Wait for me on the bed.”

You look at Bucky. He looks at you.

“You fucked up,” You mouth to him.

Bucky just gets up and pushes past you both.

*

“I suppose you could say I’ve had to get creative with my plans for you. I know that pain is something you can’t respond to in ways that she can.” Zemo says, smiling as he glances down at Bucky and then over his shoulder at you on your knees behind him. “Have you finished?”

You look up from what you’re doing, hoping it’s right. “Yes, I think so?”

He comes around to look at the rope binding Bucky’s wrists. It’s just for show to heighten the experience. Of course Bucky could break free if he wanted to— his strength is no match for a few rough fibers— but this is a training of the mind as well as the body. “You see, pleasure can be just as awful.” Zemo says, his voice making you shiver as he checks your work, tugging and tightening the rope a little more.

Leaning in close, he strokes Bucky’s jaw, his finger reaching to trace the spine of his ear and you smile when the hairs on Bucky’s right arm raise and Zemo loses the air of control for a second simply becoming the man who cares for the other deeply. “The irony of tying you to a chair to satisfy you is not lost on me, based on what I know of your past. But if you can endure it, I promise it will be nothing like the pain you’ve known. I could never hurt you in that way. Still, if at any time this is too much, if it triggers memories that change it from what it’s meant to be, please— James— say the word, your word and it stops.”

Bucky nods. “I will” He says softly.

“Nothing now?” Zemo asks genuinely wanting to know. Bucky shakes his head. “No, nothing.”

Zemo gives a confident nod and kisses the back of Bucky’s head patting his cheek a little harder than he needs too. “I only want to make you feel good— eventually.” He teases and Bucky rolls his eyes with a small laugh.

Pleased, Zemo pushes up and goes to sit in the soft chair across the room, notably more comfortable than the one Bucky has been placed in. Although the more obvious differences being, Zemo is not bound, Zemo is not naked, and Zemo has not been so gently stroked and toyed with that he’s been left with a perfectly vulnerable erection like Bucky has.

You’d had a hard time focusing on the ropes as the Baron made it happen. The way he’d taken Bucky in hand, winding down the length of his sex was in a word, mesmerizing. And when Bucky made that sound, that soft, pleading sound and Zemo stopped — his brow raised with such smug confidence— you wondered who would break first, you or Bucky. He’d quickly brought his hand up with one last tease, his fingers swirling around the curving head of Bucky’s member only to let go as though he’d lost interest.

Bucky’s groan was deep. He was beyond frustrated, but instead of breaking out of his restrains and fucking one of the two of you, he sat there just waiting to be punished for breaking rules in the first place.

He watches as you come and kneel before him, naked yourself as you’ve been told to be. He actually looks slightly scared but mostly curious. His erection is as always flawlessly pretty, arching up and back, smooth while perfectly veined and so inciting.

You only know what it is you’re meant to do to him because you’ve had it done to you before. You figure it’s very similar, only the mechanics are different because his is a man. If Zemo doesn’t approve, he’ll tell you.

The Baron in charge picks up his drink, the ice rattling as he takes a sip and lets the scene settle in his sights for a moment. He likes to see the two of you together, his two helpless things— his to play with and his to love.

“Begin.”

Bucky inhales, but you smile at him to show that it won’t hurt— it’ll just drive him mad.

First you take the little bottle of body oil from the floor and put some in your hands rubbing them together.

He raises his brow watching you and starts to relax thinking he might understand now. You take him in hand and start to stroke, you are after all very good at this. Over and over again, up and down his long, thick shaft, curving your hand over the head of his cock until he moans and rolls his eyes shut. When he opens them he does seem a bit confused by this sudden attention and he flashes a smile because it feels so good. If this is all that’s been planned, he could get used to this sort of punishment.

The room is quiet, there’s nothing but the soft hum of the ship, his breathing and the wonderfully obscene sound of the oil you’re using against his skin as you work faster…

It’s not long before you feel him stiffen and his breath grows quicker, his thighs flex, his hips raise an inch and he starts to moan softly, a staccato sound of pleasure that makes even your heart beat faster. He’s been waiting and suffering through so much you can feel the joy of release seeping into every inch of his body.

“You feel it happening?” Zemo asks softly. “The start, the pressure mounting? You see, she is very good. And she will get you there James, every time— right to the edge”

You yank your hand away and he jerks forward mouth open cock twitching with the start of an orgasm he will not have.

“To the edge” Zemo chuckles. “A cruel punishment for a greedy man who must learn to wait.”

Bucky quickly lifts his head, the realization flashing in his eyes as his chest rises and falls. He looks down at you.

You smile and reach for him again.

*

“Please” He begs breathless.

“Not yet” Zemo says leaning forward a bit in his seat, the drink in his hand all but forgotten. You notice the ice has long since melted as you wait for permission, watching over your shoulder.

He gives you a nod and you turn back to Bucky.

Wrapping your hand around him again, you feel him so solid he’s like stone. His thighs are flexed, his hips raise up in the chair as you begin to jerk your hand up and down and the light reflecting off the oil makes you both shine like gold.

He moans and you watch the muscles of his abs flex as he feels the orgasm coming on, helpless to it and your skilled hand.

“I’m going to come.” He groans sounding sorry for and drops his hips.

“No, you won’t. I did not say that you can” Zemo says like the villain behind you.

“I can’t it hold back” Bucky pants, his voice is thin he sounds like he very well might lose control and you feel him pulse in your palm. You twist your hand around sliding it down to the base thinking it might help hold him off if your focus is less near the collection of nerve endings.

Zemo stands and comes to you, tapping your shoulder. You let him go with a quick up and down and Bucky’s disappointment is the saddest thing you’ve ever heard.

When Zemo looks down at the wonderfully pitiful sight, Bucky shuts his eyes. “Yellow.” He whispers. “Please, yellow.”

“All right.” Zemo says kindly and gives his head a rub. “Rest”

“Thank you.” Bucky manages.

You stand not caring what Zemo says and kiss Bucky’s cheek.

“You okay?” You ask, your hand on his shoulder, lifting his chin to look at his face.

“Please… don’t, don’t touch me for a minute?” He asks and you give an embarrassed laugh understanding his request. You’re not exactly innocent in his torment.

“Of course I’m sorry I…” Your sentence is cut off.

Zemo has you by the back of your arms and pulls you tight against him. “You, not her.”

Bucky sighs dropping his head.

“I’m still confused. Is, this what you wanted?” He asks feigning ignorance though with you naked its clear what Zemo means.

Bucky won’t look.

“Answer me.”

“No, I mean— yes Baron.” He concedes.

You feel Zemo’s laugh along your neck. “You wouldn’t have been fast enough to finish before I found you. Well, maybe you, but not her. Tell me, how quickly can you make her come?”

“What?”

“How quickly?”

You shut your eyes as soon as you realize where this is going.

“I don’t know. I mean she always got there.” Bucky says sounding slightly self conscious.

Zemo smiles. “Two minutes. I can finish her off in just two.”

“Ha!” Bucky doesn’t believe him, who would.

Oh Bucky…

“Tell him it’s true.” Zemo leans towards you.

You nod glancing at them both. “He does this… thing.” You tell Bucky. “He works my spot and my clit at the same time and I come. Fast.” You say simply and totally helpless to it.

“It’s not always the most fun, rarely my first choice; but great when we’re in a hurry.” He shrugs and takes a knee before you even realize that he has. “Open your legs.” He says looking up at you.

Your eyes go wide, surprised to see him down and waiting with Bucky watching. Still, you part your thighs and wisely lay your hands on his shoulders knowing you won’t be able to stay upright without the support.

“This? Right James? This warm, tight, safe place? This is what you wanted?” Zemo asks, teasing Bucky with the way he slides his fingers between your velvet soft folds. You feel him turn his hand and his finger circles your entrance. He sighs and takes hold of your hip to keep you in place.

Two fingers slip inside and you hiss against the stretch, biting your lip as your head lolls to the side. You try to hold in the loudest of your noise but it’s hopeless.

The Baron starts to do his thing and you wonder if you might be able to deny him the pleasure of making you come in front of Bucky again, but just like always you end up gripping his shoulders to keep from falling as he does a perfect come hither with his two fingers as his thumb rubs with the perfect amount of pressure on your throbbing clitoris. He can’t resist and licks your peak for good measure until you hold your breath as he sucks sloppily and until you come on his hand and just as quickly as always. Your wild moaning is nearly feral but you could not care less. It makes you smile to hear him laugh softly so pleased with himself and you and your eyes shut as you pant, catching your breath.

Lowering your head, your eyes only half open, you both look over at Bucky who is glaring at the Baron.

“James.”

“Yes.”

“Stop breaking the rules.”

“Yes Baron.” He says giving in completely.

Zemo smiles and slowly pulls his fingers free from you, raising his hand just enough to show them so wet and sticky and glistening. He kisses your belly and looks up at you. “Go lie down.” He says rubbing your stomach, smoothing his hand over your soft tuft of hair. You’re still floating as you do, happy to go and rest and leave them to it.

“Would you like to come now?” You hear Zemo ask Bucky as he gets up and goes around the chair.

“Please.” Bucky whispers watching you sink down onto the bed on your side.

“I can finish you off just as quickly as I did her.”

“Yes. Please.” He begs through clenched teeth rising up again as if presenting himself to be relieved, the steady rush of blood to his lower half turning his cock a darker shade of desperate as it rises up like a tower ready to fall. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” He pants “I’m sorry I tried to fuck her. I’m sorry for breaking your rules. And I will do anything, please just… fuck. Please!”

Helmut leans down hushing him, pressing his face close to Bucky’s, grabbing him around the chest as his left hand comes reaching over his stomach promising an end to the day’s long torment.

He grips the soldiers gorgeous, endlessly taunted dick; your natural lubricant replacing the oil to help glide his fingers along.

When Zemo starts to work Bucky you can see through the look on his face that this is all he’s wanted to do for so long and you are reminded that this is as much the Baron’s discipline as it is yours— as it is Bucky’s.

Bucky makes a deep sound that gets your attention. His body flexes and you think he looks like a bomb ready to blow. A sexy, finely muscled, lightly tanned bomb with a look of pained excitement as his legs open and his jaw flexes.

“Are you mine James?” Zemo asks, his lips brushing his ear,

“Yes” He says pitifully raising his hips, thrusting once into the Baron’s hand just as Zemo lets go. A deep frown fixes between Bucky’s brows as he waits until Zemo grabs again and starts to perfectly stroke him.

Bucky’s mouth opens, his eyes fix on the incredibly hypnotic rhythm of Zemo’s hand.

“You’ve always been mine haven’t you?”

“Yes!” Bucky nearly shouts, his brows turned down with the exquisite anguish of the nearing release.

“Say it again,” Zemo demands, his right arm tight around Bucky, his eyes shut relishing in the control and the love, you listen to the wet rhythm as it gets faster.

“Yes.”

“Say it!”

“I’ve always been yours” Bucky moans loudly and glances over at you unable to keep your hand away from your pussy selfishly wanting to come again.

“Once more.” Helmut says opening his eyes. The muscle of his arm is flexed beautifully as he pounds.

Bucky moans so similarly to you that Helmut just smiles. He knows, he understands the hold he has over you both.

“I’m yours” Bucky manages and the Baron focuses his movement as if pulling the orgasm from Bucky’s body willing it to come forward. He jerks his hand up and away…but this time he’s finished the job.

He holds Bucky as the man cries out, his hips rising high this time, his cock pulsing with a tight up and down as he finally —god, finally— gives a high pitched groan with that first explosive release of come that shoots past his stomach and onto his own chest followed by equally satisfying spasms that send milky droplets flying free into the air and across his stomach onto Zemo’s arms; Bucky’s groaning and gasping near tears with the absolute exhaustion and relief of his well deserved climax, his moans and gasps of surprise so raw and unaffected.

By the time he lowers back down to the chair unable to do much more than sit there, limp and panting with his eyes closed, Helmut is holding him, caring nothing for the mess. He seems to love the sight of the pearlescent results of Bucky’s incredible orgasm as much as you do.

Smiling as he strokes Bucky’s hair, kissing his temple, he says with a tone only Helmut Zemo could manage at a moment like this, “You see. When you listen to me, I make it worth every second, every moment of torment. Yes?”

Bucky nods but it’s weak.

Zemo chuckles softly, kisses him again and reaches down easily undoing the ropes.

“Look at you both.” He says trying to sound angry, as if it’s not all his fault. “You can’t come to dinner like this. I’ll run a bath.”

He leaves Bucky and comes to the bed bending over you, his hand so sticky from the combination is heavy on your belly as he kisses your lips. “Hows your ass?” He asks.

“Still on fire.” You say and he winks as he rises.

“Good."

*

“You’re pretty quiet over there.” Bucky says splashing you from across the large tub. You’ve both been in for a while now after Zemo took a quick shower and left you alone letting you know he’d be up waiting at the dinner table.

Roused from your daydream but still not sure you want to talk about why you’re so quiet, you glance over and shrug.

“Whats wrong? You’re not mad about what happened are you?” Bucky asks sliding a little closer. The tub is surprisingly big in an already large bathroom and yet again you wonder how you’ll return to real life when this all ends.

“What happened?” You ask him.

“Getting you in trouble? He really put a shine on your backside.” Bucky says, a smile breaking through any attempt at being serious.

You sit up surprised to hear that’s what he thinks it could be. “Ha! No. Not at all. That was amazing… god” You tip your head back, the image of Bucky, naked and tired to a chair with Zemo holding him and whispering in his ear will be seared into your mind for life. “I didn’t know you could come that much.” You say, slowly looking back down at him,trying not to giggle.

“Neither did I.” He says practically blushing before he grins. “Same goes for you.” He tosses right back.

You laugh and roll your eyes. “Okay well we both know he’s capable of turning us into sex crazed idiots apparently.” You say with a cheeky grin and Bucky laughs shaking his head with a sigh.

“What is it? Some Sokovian spell or something, magic from the old world?” Bucky says with a thick accent wiggling his wet soapy fingers in the air.

Laughing you scrunch your nose. “Nah, that’s all him. Just wait until you’ve been around him long enough to get to the good stuff.”

“The good stuff!” He looks shocked “Well what the hell is all this!”

“This is amazing, but it not… well it’s not him. Theres so much more than sex. Watching tv. Eating dinner in bed. Naps— once he read to me.” You say with a sigh and the room goes silent as you both slip into a day dream laced with Helmuts beautiful voice surrounding you as he reads the classics on a warm summer night…

“You think he sits around daydreaming about us like this?” Bucky asks with a frown. “I worry sometimes.”

“Really?” You ask looking into his big blue eyes. Hundred years old and still so sweet. “Of course he does. Bucky, he wouldn’t have done any of this if he didn’t spend as much time thinking of us as we do him. Don’t be so naive”

He nods looking out the window and you know he’s just out of practice. He probably had a swarm of girls around him back when his life was normal. Maybe even a secret guy. But how long ago had that been. And since he’d been released from the words, his only real time spent with anyone has been with the two of you. For a moment you wonder if that’s fair. He should go out on dates or something, but then again you did try to get him on some apps. He hated them all. Women swiped right like it was their job of course, but he thought it was strange and wanted to meet them the old fashioned way but when he did he could only focus on what he didn’t like and just compared them to you— and Zemo.

“Hey.” You get his attention again. “I mean it, I’m really not upset about anything that happened earlier. Thanks for being such a rule breaker.” You say with a wink.

“No problem” He laughs as if that was his intention. Bucky’s expression softens as he sits back, the water rocking under the bubbles.

Bubbles. Talk about a diva, is anyone is on this big ass boat it’s him. Two adults having a bath drawn from them; why not throw in the bubbles. You roll your eyes ignoring the way your chest gets tight with the feel of being so adored and loving every second of his over the top ways and focus on Bucky who looks stunning in the bath— your heart sinking just a little.

“So what is it?” He asks unaware of your many distractions.

You look back to the window staring up at the sky for a while. “I’m just… sad.” You say giving in to the truth “I mean, I’m thrilled being here. But I’ve had this idea that I could talk you into staying with us. I keep imagining this life with you and Helmut and I know it can’t happen for so many reasons but I’m stubborn and spoiled. I truly hate not getting my way. So I keep thinking, maybe.”

He goes quiet now understanding, and then you feel his hand on your knee under the water. “I know. I’ve thought about it too. Maybe a little too much. Definitely enough that I’ve almost convinced myself it could work, but no. It just wouldn’t.”

You press your lips hesitant to say in case you might offend him but decide to just go for it. “And you’re sure it’s not just that you miss it? Saving the world and everything? I mean, I can see how it would be appealing— from controlled killer to stoic hero.” You tease gently, wiggling your brows up and down until he laughs a little, probably more annoyed than you’d like, and whatever facade you’d put on crumbles. The look of heartbreak turns your brows down, twisting your face with the agony of losing him. He looks surprised to see you so broken about it and finds your hand through the water.

“Hey hey hey.” He pulls but you’re not in the mood to be comforted. Bucky hates when you don’t let him coddle you, but he knows better than to fight it so he simply answers your question. “Yes.Well. No I mean, it’s nice. But honestly, if you really want to know, I could get used to being domesticated.” He shrugs letting go of your hand as he looks towards the shower where Zemo was and you swallow the tears that have been overpowered by your intrigue.

Managing a laugh at his expense you poke his arm on the rim of the tub. “Really? By me or Helmut?” You ask and swear you see him blush.

“You’ve already proven you can turn me into a homebody, and happy to be there, so —Maybe both?” He shrugs and there is such a tone of possibility in his statement that you’re instantly transported into a world in which the three of you are living happily. Maybe in this Mediterranean paradise, you’ve just come home from the market with ingredients for a dinner that Bucky has asked you to pick up and you help him cook while music blasts in your small but bright kitchen and you dance around until the house smells delicious and you set the table, flirting and toying with one another until everything looks beautiful before rushing to sit just as your Baron comes through the door…

Even here and now sitting in the tub with you, Bucky looks like the sweetest house husband glowing a soft gold in the light of the sun. What you wouldn’t give to be his forever. His his and hers, you think and your chin quivers with the threat of happy miserable tears.

Bucky isn’t oblivious to your hurting but he’s trying to keep strong, he can’t give in to you, not this time. “We’ll never know if I stick around.” He says and your little vision fades “I think I’ve got one visit, maybe two in me before someone notices an avenger hanging around their town and his cover is blown. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. I’d never forgive myself."

“I know.” You say and only realize that your head is down when his hand, which is covered in white bubbles reaches to lift your chin.

“Hey, come one. None of that. We’ve only got a little bit of time. I just want to make the most of it. Give me enough good memories to finally forget about whats left of the bad.”

You smile and nod, blowing the bubbles away before they go up your nose. “Fine.” You sigh and look back out the window hugging your knees. “Buck, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He says only cringing a little when you call him Buck.

“Do you think you might ever love him?”

Bucky freezes. He looks— odd. Uncomfortable. Exposed? You realize very quickly that he already does, even if he’s not aware of it and decide not to push him

“It’s okay. I was just curious.” You say and try to calm him with your smile “We come from very different worlds. Letting myself love a man like Helmut Zemo took little to no effort for me, for you— I know why it might come as a shock. But I think you’ll find, when you do admit it to yourself and to him, he might just surprise you with how quickly he says it back.”

[paper-cloud]

i. the crushing weight of what happens next

part of "(there will be a) tomorrow"

fandom: prospect (2018) characters: ezra, cee rating: T words count: ~3K context: post-canon general warnings/tags: see series masterlist warnings/tags for this chapter: ezra's pov. angst. not graphic descriptions of wounds, blood and amputated limbs. mentions of minor characters' death. (probably very) inaccurate but anyways vague descriptions of medical treatments and post-anesthesia symptoms. taglist: @ravensmutty @buttercup--bee @thegreenkid (again, thank you all for your interest and encouragement! :3) @krissology @ezrasarm @bonktime (please forgive my nerve, i won't tag you in the next chapters unless you'll explicitly ask me to! just thought about someone else who might be interested and you guys are AMAZINGLY talented and inspiring "prospect"/ezra writers. it's not my intention to waste precious moments of your time! 🤡

[SERIES MASTERLIST] [MAIN MASTERLIST]

He'd have thought it was almost ironic – opening his eyes to the light only to see nothing. To feel pain.

He'd have laughed about it, most likely. A bit later, he'd have acknowledged it was a reasonably fair compromise; for him and any other wretch that'd ever dared play dice with darkness and miraculously made it out alive.

And in the very end he'd come to laugh at himself, too.

He knows the drill. Someone who trades their own life with the contract of the highest bidder doesn't see the universe in black and white, let alone is in a position to draw the hypothetical line between the two of them.

Must be an even more wicked universe than he's ever cared about, then.

At least, that's where the struggle of opening his eyes made him stumble upon; when a blade of light thrust through that hint of a gap he'd pushed himself to create in the middle, resonating through the dark coils of unconsciousness like a harsh, unforgiving bell.

A skilled mariner over silky rivers of natural redundancy and rapids of professional edges, Ezra is a man who can appreciate a sharp wit when he recognizes one.

That was too much even for him.

Floundering in between a blinding whiteness and a black hole that wasn't even completely black, but permeated by a thick, suffocating haze that filled every ghost haunting his mind with its stench. With the color of diabolically lush leaves.

Forest— spores— poison— death.

It hadn't been enough to let him dangle in apnea above a roaring vortex of lifeless emerald; take him away from the grey flow whose elusiveness he'd come to appreciate more than he'd ever hated to endure its chaos— from the bubble built on the routine series of one last jobs that, in the end, never really were.

There'd been a moment when, from the higher parts of the room, his pupils tumbled down, tripping over a patch of green discreetly lurking in a corner.

He almost threw up.

It had taken him a while to clear out the misty grit clotted in his corneas— focus on white walls, light wood paneling... a harmless seedling in a pot.

He'd breathed heavily, deeply. He sure hadn't got much relief from it. Still, he'd been able to hear its sound, louder than he'd ever heard it before, the musical, cooling mesh of oxygen particles in and out of his lungs almost begging his fingers to be touched.

Oxygen.

Fresh air.

Had he been less sore – less convinced it was just the residual effects of anesthesia pulling pranks on him –, he would have burst out laughing. Even more so if some poor soul of the medical staff nearby would have called for reinforcements from the other side of the space station before storming into his room.

He'd be laughing now, too. The best he can manage is sitting on his bed, leaning his back on the headboard – which is what he's struggling to do right now— and well, sometimes the room lighting still slightly bothers him. Of course, with all the painkillers and antibiotics they've given him, he wouldn't feel like the wound on his stomach is swallowing the entire arsenal of stitches and bandages.

He just wouldn't like her to get the wrong idea.

He blinks several times, like a man who no longer trusts his eyes. How can he, when they're burning like that, in such a different fire from the one from days before – damp and flickering? For reasons he can imagine, she seems to be faltering. Totally beyond his comprehension, he could swear she's smiling at him. Something inside his ribcage creaks oddly, while the curve of his chest arches upward.

"Birdie."

It's just a huff of breath, weak and hoarse, yet scratches his throat all the same, in a way that its walls feel studded with rock spurs. Actually, Ezra doesn't remember talking since they left the Green behind – which, being him, is saying something – and it's like an eternity has passed since their pod docked up there.

The nurse who let her into his room has just left and Cee sinks her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. She's still smiling— just the faded shadow of a smile, now that he takes a better look at her.

"How's your wound?"

It sounds a lot less plain than he expected.

She hasn't moved towards him any further, and for now she's not showing any hints at wanting to. In her irises, Ezra recognizes thumping stars and cerulean clouds, all clustered in the black circle cut by the large porthole next to his bed. All before catching the thin mist veiling them. As if she did want to reach those stars, let herself get carried away by those streams of bluish dust, but she had no idea how or what to do there.

He looks down, the borders of the bandages over his abdomen slightly raised under his black short-sleeved tee. He clears his throat.

"S'healin' nicely", he says, with a deliberate lightheartedness that costs him a sharp, bizarre inflection in his voice. He closes his eyes soon after, tilting his head condescendingly. "That's how the nurse feels about it, anyway... S'not like I can feel much more right now."

This reminds him of those vacuous moments between brief, chaotic waking states and delirious dreams. When he'd managed to reconnect some essential key points scattered around in the talks of surgeons and nurses; the weariness he felt from simply gathering he was on a space station due to enter the orbit of Mesos in three cycles and something standard hours. All while his only solid reference point – the only indisputable proof he was still alive – was the sequence of beeps chirped by the medical monitor perched nearby. Constant, not monotonous. Friendly, even. Sometimes, he actually comes to miss it.

"A trust fall to the extreme, I'd guess", he snorts, a sly laugh as weak and heavy as the words trudging out of his mouth. As the whole rest of him.

Whatever answer she's considering, Cee freezes it in a quick purse of her lips – maybe a nod, but for his own good he'd rather be doubtful. Then she starts looking around.

There's a chair under the board firmly anchored to the opposite wall – probably a desk or something he's never needed to test, whatsoever. She grabs it and puts it next to his bed. She sits down, bringing her legs to her chest, squeezing them in her arms.

Waiting for what, Ezra has no idea, and he's afraid she doesn't have any, either.

He doesn't speak, though, nor does he encourage her to do the same. Her pearly gaze roams steadily but unhurriedly from him to somewhere beyond him, her nose buried in the gap between her knees. He studies her carefully, two purple crescents above her cheeks, a few hair strands swinging down her face without her wiping them out. The nights she's slept through haven't been any more peaceful than his.

Trust, he recalls in the meantime.

It sure brings an odd taste to his mouth. Something close to sweaty spacesuits, grimy paths and gone-off ration bars. A single word for two human beings forced to share the same air filter for days; that, and the image of a dead body left to rot miles behind and the desperate commitment not to end up in the same way.

His gaze just happens to trip over his right side, taking in the deflated sleeve over the emptiness that saved his life. When he lifts it back to the girl, meeting her eyes just before they can flutter away, he realizes they were both looking at the same spot. And he realizes something else— something he's already understood, yet not quite.

There is no tube binding them now.

"Why d'you do it?", he mumbles a split second later, almost like somehow the thread of his question has immediately knotted to the one of his previous thought.

He huffs. He shouldn't even have asked her, in all honesty. Seeing her like this, at least he should have put it in another way, danced around it, it's not like he’s never been good at stalling, after all—

"Comin' back", Ezra says instead, and when he swallows, he mainly does it to send his heart back down his throat. If he'd died without being given the last chance to be this straightforward on this matter, he would have probably kicked his ass all the way to the other side. 

This time, Cee doesn't avoid his gaze. He shouldn't be surprised by how collected she looks, given the calmness she handled his infected arm with and then told him about when she used to slip into Jata Bhalu carcasses. But he can't help it when he thinks she can't be much older now than what she was then.

He watches her breathing in, wobbling her pupils here and there, seemingly considering his words. She's not afraid, not any more than what she seemed to be when she walked into his room. Maybe she's just better than him at playing pretend – but this, he can't tell whether it's more of a good than a bad thing. Especially for her.

One thing he can tell is that she's not the same girl who pointed a trembling gun at him before running away into the woods. He knows she's not afraid.

He knows...

So is it the hunter's instinct he has to blame if he feels she is?

"Guess I've seen too much death on that forsaken moon to just... turn my back on one I can help– one I can do something about."

If he was standing in front of an entire mountain crumbling down into the ocean, he wouldn't hear its sound. ‘Wouldn't even be the worst he deserves. She did hesitate before adding the last few words, but Ezra refuses to believe she did that because she was afraid of hurting him. He may be a wretch, but not a fool.

Kevva, for a man who's always managed to untwist himself from far tougher situations with the tangles of his tongue alone, he's sure having a deal of trouble – and he wishes he could put all the blame on his current physical condition.

There is no word he doesn't have to weigh carefully now, to prevent it from taking too sharp edges once out of his lips. He may float around it forever. But once he's let her go without saying anything, he'll hardly find the courage to look within himself again, more than after any other job that hardened his hands with calluses and tarnished his eyes with blood.

He doesn't know for sure. In fact, everything he was sure to know – about the turning direction of the universe and the one of the wheels in his head – has already collapsed in front of him, tracing a flaming tail. An unforgiving meteor following a trajectory far beyond his grasp.

He just knows silence scares him, in a way that a wrong word will never do again. It terrifies him. More than as a talkative person, as a castaway on a hostile moon for too many cycles to keep their count – with the only company of a mute. Silence is green; the green of the most poisonous pollen, lethal in his brain just like toxic spores enveloped in his lungs. The green of snake scales ready to stand and scratch his flesh until liquid crimson pours out of it.

And at the end of the day, this is the only fucking thing he can tell himself to know without having his guts churning and chest heaving a beat later.

"Stop looking at me like that."

It's more of an exhausted prayer than an annoyed remark. Ezra blinks, stunned by the sudden return from the shapeless stream of his thoughts.

"Like what?"

"Like you're looking for the words to thank me", Cee settles back into her chair and this time she lets one leg touch the floor, "Tell me you owe me, and you– you're sorry about what you did."

Ezra sniffles. "Would it be bad?" 

"No, it��". She closes her eyes for a moment, clenching her jaw. "Just no good", she breathes out, calmer.

And the discordant note in those words conjures up ghosts not yet vague enough for Ezra to be able to tolerate them without something twinging inside him— like a violent flutter of wings. Voices groping their way up ravels of compromises. Damon, deep in the forest. Himself, with the mercenaries in the Queen's Lair. Cee, days before that. After he—

She's right— those words she hasn't said yet, but whose shadow he feels looming every time he catches her wetting her lips.

Some things just can't be split evenly.

"This is not the Green", she states, suddenly more confident but no less exhausted. "If you're going to hang around just because you need to, once we reach Mesos¹ you'd better be on your way."

Ezra doesn't interrupt her. A faded echo starts making its way into his ears. A former prospecting partner, many years ago. An easy job on a forgettable Fringe moon.

Gems don't have an expiration date. Deals do. Strike 'em if you need to, get rid of them as soon as you can. Unless you care to dig a quicker way to your grave.

He didn't pay attention to it, then. He'd thought it was just the empty rhetoric prospectors drop absentmindedly to fill the time between an unrewarding digging and the next. All the more so under the rickety advice of a couple too many.

His eyes still wide open, hands shaky, he merely reciprocated the awkward bottle lift of his partner, whom he didn't know more than the meanders of that quarry. A toast to a faceless future – a nothingness still more reassuring than what was all around and behind them. Not to the darkness of the cave, basically unbreakable if only for the red halo thrown by the twinkles of sharp, sinister Prystines². Not even to the two poor bastards that had set out with them, ending up skewered a few hundred paces behind – one by mistake, the other to return the favor of saving him from the clutches of a furious Aiu³.

Like an idiot.

Several contracts later preventing him from missing a beat in front of similar hiccups, the logic of that statement no longer sounds so absurd to Ezra. Luckily for him, Cee understood it long before him.

"I was just lookin' for the words to tell ya you'll be better off without me—"

Half a truth. Half a heartbeat. After all, she isn't the only one of them who knows how to sell it.

He leans his head back against the headboard, eyes half-closed, a sly grin baring a couple of his upper teeth. It would almost be intimidating, except that the glint hitting them doesn't quite match the dying one in his eyes.

"—But you beat me to it", he finishes, and he sounds like he's about to fall asleep.

He slowly turns his head away, looks through the porthole. His gaze clutches to the passing asteroids outside, distant nebulae spraying the sidereal black with hues of purple, blue, red— then green, again. A climbing plant squeezing him from the inside, discomfort starts creeping on him an inch of his body – what's left of it – at a time.

He doesn't want her to think he's angry at her, and it's the only concrete foothold emerging from the fluid, magmatic chaos in his mind.

How could he be, when she came back to get him?

She didn't have to.

She doesn't have to be here, either...

"I'm sorry", she suddenly blurts out.

He meets her eyes again, a mix of bewilderment and disapproval shading his own. He shakes his head.

"Don't."

"I just—". She starts fiddling with the extra fabric created by the folds of her sweatpants. Then she sighs deeply. "I have no idea what I'm gonna do now."

He snorts. "Not that it's s'pposed to make you feel any better, but... neither do I."

He doesn't have a hazy helmet choking the glimmer in his eyes, an air filter breaking some frequencies in his voice— maybe just those making him sound sincere, while saving those trapping him into the swamp of self-loathing.

He was nothing but honest when he told her the rules of the game on the Green. When he openly admitted he was a killer, and when he assured her he wouldn't trade her for the Sater's Aurelac. And she's always seemed to believe him, maybe for that kind of desperate inertia that washes over people when they need something to cling to. Whatever the case, Ezra can only hope she wants to believe him now. But she doesn't speak, and for a moment his fear of not saying enough overcomes that of crossing her boundaries.

"But w—", he immediately bites his tongue, "—you still have three cycles to figure things out. Someone up here will be able to help you. Even so, please know you'll always have my most sincere gratitude."

The effort of lining up all those words and so few pauses to catch his breath casts a thick fog over his ears. His eyes suddenly hurt again and he finds himself squinting.

What happens next, he just records it, hardly managing to follow each cause-effect relationship. A series of events softly raining on him without making a noise, while he can quite imagine them to be way more prolonged in time. Cee leaning towards the lighting panel on the wall, sliding her finger counterclockwise, and the white coating the walls turning less painfully bright; her getting up, walking away, dwelling just before the door. "I'll come to check on you tomorrow", she says, sniffling.

She tilts her head, holding his gaze in her watery one for an agonizingly slow while – Please, don't ask me why.

He blinks once – Of course.

Then, the automatic door is once again engulfed by the wall, closing behind her with a metallic rustle.

Tomorrow.

His heart is taken by a spiraling jolt that leaves an empty cave behind. When it falls back into place, Ezra finds something has tripped in there, shapeless and quivering like the nucleus of a newborn star.

Hope, terror and everything that lies in between. 

___________________

NOTES:

1) Mesos — Invented planet. Its only raison d'être is that "mésos" in Greek means "middle" and my intent was to frame this story in a moment of transition (after those of movies) for both Ezra and Cee. 2) Prystines — Invented kind of crystals. They're implied to be huge, red and very sharp, thus endangering the path through the cave. 3) Aiu — Invented predator, ideally a big feline.

A/N:

Yeah, uhm... at this point, if someone was ever to give me any kind of feedback, constructive criticism or random thought, I think I'd just melt into a puddle for the attention alone. And to all those who came all the way down here, your bravery shall not be forgotten. ♥️✨

In my defense, it's (almost) all P**** P*****'s fault & of his habit of taking orphans under his wing from one planet to another.

I know people in the fandom generally tend to make Ezra and Cee go along straight away after the movie, so this will be a slightly different take on things, I guess... But even if I don't know if I'll keep this series going atm (life & maturity exam suck), a final reconciliation is definitely on the way. ;)

Oh, and any beta reader that should feel like helping me out for when I'll have the next chapters ready is warmly welcomed! My DMs are always open and I swear I don't bite! :3

[charlieweasleyy]

THE ONE WHERE WE ARE COMFORTABLE

WTN WEEK 2021 → day seven (episode seven) Hiiii friends so I decided to talk about things that bring me comfort and for me the thing that brings me the biggest comfort is the friends I've made on this board. I spend my time talking to these four basically allllll day long. If you can guess by the graphic above on who is who, but they have become some of my best friends so *drum roll* please and let me tell you about the people i consider to be my f.r.i.e.n.d.s.

MY LOBSTER Apparently, I am someone who when they find someone they mate for life. When I latched onto Elle I latched on and didn't (lol won't) let go. Like when I say she is my person I mean it with every fiber of my being. She is the soulmate. My wife. My lobster. She is like that perfect pair of sweatpants that you know are dependable and can count on and you don't want to let go of. She's like the television show that you need to put on because you've had a bad day. She's the first person I call when disaster happens. When I am having a bad day she is the first person I want to talk to and 10/10 she can say something to make it better.

We laugh until we cry and she likes to yell at me... but 9/10 I do deserve it. So, it is valid. If you see me flirting with her on the server (no you didn't) it's mostly because I can't help myself. So... just divert your eyes. It's very cliche to say that your life has changed after meeting someone, but that's what it has done. I am a better person for her, I'm more mindful, more open, and I don't think there isn't a person on this board who wouldn't say that Elle hasn't changed them for the better. It is who she is. She leaves you with something to think about, she challenges you. She pushes you. She has a heart for those who are misrepresented and misunderstood. I swear if Elle had her own talk show I'd listen to it every day. The girl is *passionate* and that is one thing I can't help but love about her. She is passionate about diversity, about the people on this board, I have watched her struggle with some hard decisions this year and how it has affected her mentally, but she also rises from the ashes because she has to. I have watched her countless times put this site above her own needs. I have watched her struggle. I have watched her doubt (herself and her future) and I have watched her wonder if she is doing the right thing. I have watched her feel remorse and pain and I'm telling you if you do not think Elle cares about WTN and everyone on this board then you've not seen her struggle the way that I've seen her struggle. It's probably why I'm so damn protective of her, but I don't regret a single second of it.

Okay, I've spent this whole time talking about how great Elle is but I've not spoken about the writing. I've run out of room... her writing is amazing, she is the one person I can respond to no matter what day I'm having and no matter what ship it is. I love all of our threads and I'm always so happy and excited to see an elle reply in my alerts waiting to be read and responded to! I find it hard to wrap them because they are just so good! If I have a day where I don't feel like doing replies good chance I'll still pull up an Elle reply because it normally makes my day better 99.99999% of the time. The .1% doesn't exist, but it's including the slight possibility of error and the fact Elle will have something to refute that claim with.

THE GIRL I'D MOVE FURNITURE WITH I don't think there is anyone else I want around my side to do some of the heavy lifting and I don't mean that in the physical sense, but in the writing sense and the mental sense too (tho I don't need to see Kae in real life to know that she's strong). You know that saying about people who struggle in silence. I think that describes Kae because sometimes it's like using a crowbar in getting her to open up and to TALK. It is one of the most frustrating things. It's kind of like a treasure box when you have the box sitting right in front of you and it is impossible to open. Okay, half the battle was finding it. You have the map in front of you and when you finally find it, it is STILL locked. That's Kae. It was quite the struggle in getting her to be open to more plots like I knew where to find and how to find her, but actually getting to Kae felt impossible even though I had all of the directions in front of me. But once you put in the time and effort to get to know her.... like *really* know her, it's like discovering treasure. Not only is she one of the most dependable writers (like I said she will carry the heavyweight in all of her threads), but she is one of the best writers! I love reading her threads even if I'm not in them, they always leave me on the edge of my seat and that characterization *chef's kiss*. MAKES JOKES WITH BC HUMOR IS BAE Oh you know the one who tells the jokes when they are uncomfortable. It is a friends reference and the only one I could think of when I thought of Aria. She makes me laugh. She probably makes me laugh more than anyone especially during WTNWeek because of these videos. When I say read something in an Aria voice I mean it! She isn't really that awkward!! But I'm sure she'll say differently so YOLO. Aria doesn't know a stranger, she pops into your DMs and suddenly it's like you have known her all of your life. We have not known one another as long as I have known Kae and Elle, but she fits in so well. Her writing is beautiful and I love how she is in my DMs daily with inspiration for our ships. I started out with zero Aria ship and Aria made two new characters just to have ships with me and I love her for that. I can gush about how amazing she is because she is one of those people who will provide you comfort. If she knows you are having a bad day, she will send you something to make you smile and she'll remind you that she loves you. And I can't even tell you how having those videos during WTNWeek has made my days a little bit better! If I'm feeling frustrated or sad I just turn one on and it has made my day ten times better. It's funny how she is young, but she is kind of my teacher. She sends me videos to help me when I don't understand something and I am SORRY Aria because you've had to send a lot of videos lately, but I don't think the staff could have made a better decision in asking Aria to hop on board. She is always so helpful and the thing is -- she *wants* to help. She wants to pitch in. She always puts her best foot forward and I love that. And cand we talk about those posting and organization skills #swoooon MY SMELLY CAT In reality I am probably singing this song to Jasmine, but I feel like you'd join in sooo here we go. I wanna preface and say I am not calling Bela a smelly cat! But she speaks in references I don't understand sometimes and sometimes she talks about these weird noises she makes so I think this description is perfect for her. Bela came into WTN and I normally have trust issues BUT I trusted my gut and Prudy is one of my favorite characters on the board. We have been trying to get her cousin on board for as long as I can remember. Prudy deserves all of the good things so I really wanted Bela to stay on board. I threw her practically everything I could think of and I am so glad I did because it has allowed us to get close over the years.

Bela and I have created some fun dynamics over the years between readie being the superior of them all, but we also created dynamics that I never expected to create like Manny, Sieun, and Dylya. They have come to be some of my FAVORITE pairings. It's kinda funny we often joke about how we only have one ship on the board, but it feel like we have a billion. Bela always enjoys sending me music, it's like when she knows I need some writing music, and that's part of the ways she fits into my comfort. Bela is a listener. She listens and she is one of those people who are easy to talk to. I enjoy sharing headcanons and future headcanons and character ideas that we won't create but would like to! I like that she is open and she is honest with me - if she is having a bad day then she'll let me know. But I also think we've talked so much that I can just tell.We are comfortable with one another and I absolutely LOVE it.

I know confetti has been going on for a while, but there are not many people you write with and write WELL with but I have found multiple people I LOVE writing with and I absolutely LOVE talking to. I have found my person (lol more like loml), my partner-in-crime (like if I'm going to go to jail I need her in my corner), my cheerleader (and child), and my ship in the night (lol, we gotta be on at the right time and at the right time to talk).

[littleeyesofpallas]

Was chatting with a coworker the other day and two things crossed my mind...

that I've been at this weeb shit so long that I forget what I just sort of take for granted and what might not be commonly known little factoids, and

that VIZ's attempt at a monthly Shonen Jump magazine has been gone so long most people probably never saw them. (nevermind the old RAIJIN Graphic Novels that tried the same thing)

So, here's some fun little things you might not have known about manga if you've only ever read English publications and/or digital scans...

For one, there's the matter of print formatting... In general, Japan actually uses their own standards for print that tend to differ from those in the US; The JIS(Japanese Industrial Standards) series A and B. Magazines like the typical anthology format manga are printed in JIS B5, which is comparable to the US Letter standard, or the ISO A4.

This was the same format that RAIJIN Comics printed in as well, and although I don't have a copy of the old English Shonen Jump for reference, if memory serves they printed in the same format as well in an attempt to really sell that "authentic" manga feel. Sadly, I don't know that the effort or attention to detail was much appreciated. Neither published a volume comparable to a Japanese weekly or even monthly serial magazine, though --not by a long shot. But this might not be the most practical for comparrison, since there actually just isn't much of an English language equivalent format. (unless you count actual magazines that happen to include comic illustrations or miniscule comic strip segments)

Despite the mammoth size of a serial magazine, Japanese tankoban are actually smaller than the North American equivalent. But notably the Japanese small book format isn't just a matter of contending with nearest print standards... What I believe is the JIS B40(although I could be wrong) tends to be the standard print size of small books in general, not just manga, and it's a print size that is only marginally smaller than VIZ's standard size manga, but with the very particular benefit of being deliberately portable. The small difference in size is the difference between a Japanese manga fitting in my coat pocket where as the English equivalent can't.

(I realize I photographed a copy of Shonen ACE, and not Weekly JUMP, but I measured a copy of Weekly JUMP for the thickness and not the copy of ACE; the copy of JUMP was around 506pg, while the copy of ACE was 570pg. Those are both older though, and the most recent digital copy i have of Weekly JUMP actually had around 520pg)

And I don't think it's always addressed just what a difference there is, culturally, in how Japan approaches the print medium. It's kind of an old cliche by this point, and I don't know how accurate it's remained in the past decade or so, but the quintessential image passed around between comic nerds has always been the Japanese bullet train; A place packed with commuters all passing their transit time with isolated preoccupation with music and/or reading, with manga being the king of this time killing arena. And its not just about sheer popularity driven by interest, American comic vendors have long envied the sheer accessibility of manga in Japan.

Here in the U.S. we used to have a thriving newsstand retail scene for comic books, and a kind of similar ease of grab and go comic purchase, rather than the explicitly niche interest driven "direct market" model that has been slowly but surly strangling the comic market ever since. But in Japan serialized manga has remained in relatively quick, impulse friendly, arm's reach of readers on the go. And what lubricates that business model more than anything is price.

I still remember a time when VIZ dominated the English manga market by offering at $7.95(and am I crazy or am I remembering a time when it got down to $6.99?) but now'days it's settled on a low end of $9.99. You know how much the recent vol.29 of My Hero Academia goes for? ¥484. That's less than $4.50.

You know how much that big ass magazine with 500+ pages and 21 different series goes for? Do you think it's more or less than the little pocket-size tankoban? Did you guess something close to ¥290? That's less than $2.75. But how does something bigger in both page size and page count managed to sell for less???

There are a few secrets to that, but one is that the things are packed to the gills with ads. But that's the boring answer. The other feature contributing to keeping an accessible cost on weekly/monthly manga is something we don't think about much in the U.S.; it's the paper and print quality.

The nice little books are printed in what you might expect as far as starch white paper and clean black inks, but those big honkin' phone book(do people still know what phonebooks look like??) size magazines are printed on cheap recycled pulpy newpaper with typically rough print jobs. This is most noticeable in the quality of solid blacks, and when scanning the texture of "white" space.

(I tried to take individual photos of different series chapters to show off the fact that the paper is differently colored... but my phone's camera seems to be smart enough to auto balance that kind of thing when there's no other context to anchor it to. (It doesn't help that it's night and my lights have a harsh yellowing glow to them.) but on th left you can still kind of see the different paper colors; this particular issue alternated every 3 chapters between pink-ish, green/gray, a kind of off-white/gray, and sepia, but I've also seen blue-ish, oranges, and a different shade of yellow different from the sepia-ish one.)

Back in ye olden days when it came to fan scanlations, more slapdash teams and projects would often stumble over levels in photoshop (too much black and the pulpy paper texture shows up as grainy shadows, but too far white and the edges of lineart get crunchy and ugly) but those who had more robust readership and a regular streamlined flow of work, we'd actually go in and touch up the solid blacks and whites by hand. We'd also redraw art to erase overlaid text so the type setters could lay the new English in over top.

(Weekly Jump: Left, Bleach tankoban: Right)

They do however keep a few coveted color pages in better quality paper and ink. In contrast, the standard quality tankoban actually don't include color pages at all, and just print what had been color pages in grayscale. There are also all kind of irregularities between publishers and special editions and such, but on the most basic level this difference in quality both keeps serial prices down, while also incentivizing tankoban purchase.

In the U.S. we might still have the draw of an ad-free reading experience in our TPB, but the print quality between a biweekly issue and a TPB are basically the same. Incidentally, even though manga are generally drafted at a much larger scale than even the serial magazine proportions anyway, the scaled down size of the tankoban also serves to sharpen the image. When put side by side the nice clean tankoban print looks noticeably better than the serial.

Now'days the English scanlation scene seems to be conducted almost entirely through ripped digital releases (at least as far as I can tell with popular, regular weekly titles) which is great for quality, frankly, but it does kind of lack the charm and personal touch of a band of amateurs finding round about solutions to a convoluted bootlegging pipeline. But obviously I'm a little biased.

[edit]: Oops i posted this without really ending it in any sensible ro conclusive way... I feel like ive lost sight of the point since i first drafted this but I guess its mostly just me pining after if we could just get super cheap, disposable quality, bulk manga in that classic Japanese magazine model to work here in the states. I already tend to sell manga in big runs, even at $9.99+, and frequently I'll have customers put volumes back, or clearly want the next volume but just can't afford it and wait to come back. If I could sell these customers more volumes, and more importantly more titles, at the same price, I would love to. I would love to see these things fly off the shelves. I would love to see people keeping up with multiple series. I would love to see someone look at a 44vol long series and actually feel like that's a number of volumes they can afford.

[crusherthedoctor]

Alright, Crusher. Let's open a can of worms here. What are your top 5 favourite Sonic games in order, and what do you like about them? I'm really curious as for as long as I've been following you, you've only mainly focused on the bad aspects of Sonic, both the games and the fandom, both new and old.

I'd say I give praise to the things I like more often than you give me credit for. Yes, I've criticised IDW and the Twitter/YouTube community a lot, but have you not seen all of my posts relating to the movie? :P

Still, any opportunity to gush about the good is appreciated, so here we go. Note that these lists tend to slightly change depending on the day and mood, and this one is no exception. Also note that I actually like a lot of Sonic games, so it's never easy to narrow it all down to five.

1. Sonic Mania - It's a very close call between this and #2 below, but Mania edges out just that little bit more due to the additions of Mighty and Ray, the gorgeous graphics, Tee Lopes' fantastic compositions, the Hard-Boiled Heavies, the brilliant reimaginings of old zones alongside the equally amazing new ones, and the clever Easter Eggs and little references sprinkled throughout the entire thing. A gargantuan amount of love was put into this game, and it shows and paid off handsomely.

2. Sonic 3 & Knuckles - Sonic 1 and 2 are great, but the one that gave us the & Knuckles meme will always be my favourite in the Genesis trilogy. Sonic 3 - the full Sonic 3 - makes it very clear from the moment Sonic jumps off the Tornado that it's a step up from the first two not just in gameplay, but presentation as well. For that reason, I guess you could also say it has my favourite “story” out of all the games, since due to the more cinematic nature of the game, Eggman really gives it his 110% from start to finish, without getting fucked over at any point. It's a simple yet grand adventure to stop the Death Egg from relaunching, and I always have a blast with it.

3. Sonic Adventure 1 - This is a game that I like more and more as time goes on. I used to enjoy it enough, but wasn't super impressed with it, to the point of putting it and SA2 in the same rank. But since then - possibly due to comparing it more thoroughly with SA2 and other 3D installments - I started to appreciate so many details great and small. Despite kicking off the alternate gameplay schtick, everyone not named Big is still fun to play as (and even Big honestly isn't that bad, since you can complete his story very quickly). Its soundtrack is one of my absolute favourites in any video game, and despite how aged the graphics may be nowadays (and the downright hilarious character animations), the environments are still really lush and retain a whimsical edge. Chaos also remains the best of the giant monsters, though that’s hardly a difficult feat when looking at the competition.

4. The Sonic Advance trilogy - Cheating, but it is my top five after all. The first and second installments were the first Sonic games I saw and played respectively, but even putting nostalgia aside, they hold up as solid titles on the GBA, with some of the best music and graphics on the system. The third one is more flawed due to the occasionally weird level design and some other design choices, but I still have fun with it overall, and the team-up gimmick lends itself to some fun combinations.

5. Sonic CD - As far as level design goes, I think it's just okay for the most part. But everything ELSE really elevates it IMO. With the time travel mechanic, the game is allowed to tell a story without saying anything, like S3&K would later do. The zones (sorry, rounds) are given a lot of different contrasts between their different incarnations, and every last one of them are pleasing to the eyes, even the dilapidated Bad Futures. Eggman also told us in song to Get Some Help, which was really thoughtful of him.

If you're wondering what the #6 runner-up would have been, it’s a tie between Generations and Rush Adventure. :]

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Hi there! i don't really play many video games, but i've been wanting to get into fallout for a while now, and was wondering if you have any recommendations or tips? Which fallout game would you recommend? Thank you very much, and your cosplay so far looks amazing as always! :)

Thank you!

I’ve played Fallouts 3 and New Vegas to completion and am halfway through 4, which is currently my COVID-19 depression game.

I’ll say right now that FO3 was a largely forgettable slog for me. So, that leaves us with FNV and FO4.

I feel like playing on a PC is essential, because it gives you access to more mods. Fallout as a franchise doesn’t always know what its players wants or even what *it* wants, and mods go a long way to tailoring your experience. Having access to console codes also is a godsend for dealing with bugs or quests that just aren’t fun for you. Learning which mods to use is an organic experience gleaned from seeing what other people do + Googling every time you feel yourself going, “man, I wish this was different”.

Ok, tech stuff out of the way.

I am a player who is drawn to RPGs because I like to explore and I like to have an impact on the story (that doesn’t mean the story needs to be about me, though). I identify strongly with the Knight in Sour Armor trope and tend to play characters who are the same.

Fallout New Vegas

FNV ditches the “you are the chosen one” narrative, which is very refreshing. It’s brave enough to not even make you a Vault Dweller. You are literally just some rando in the middle of a political conflict (that you aren’t even aware of), go have fun.

There are multiple endings not only for the main storyline, but also for each of your companions and each of the DLCs. Dialogue is text-heavy, giving you more options and more nuance. Most choices are morally grey in a way that is interesting instead of being edge-lordy.

FNV has a lot of choice, and the game having a proper collection of endings makes it feel like you accomplished something. You feel driven to finish it and it’s satisfying when it’s complete.

Fallout 4

Fallout 4 is wonderful to explore. The settings are diverse and vibrant. I’ll spend hours just wandering.

Fallout 4 is the first in the series where I feel seen as someone who doesn’t want to be just another post-apoc murder hobo or aloof wanderer. I want to rebuild the wasteland. I want community. I can actually do that with settlements! I want to be kind in video games. Holy crap, I have dialog options to make sure my companions are doing ok emotionally. Holy crap, did my companion just stop someone on the street and ask them if they’re ok?

FO4 is full of tons of very satisfying/intriguing little story and character moments. To me, it feels a lot more hopeful, less nihilistic than FNV. I feel like I have a more personal connection to the characters and the world, even though I have zero interest in the main story.

tldr;

They are both fun games. I’d suggest starting with FNV because it’s the technically older game and it might be jarring to go back to older graphics/UX if you started with FO4, first. But, if there is a companion or quest line from either game you really dig, focus on that game, first. You should know what motivates you most as a player. :)

They are notoriously buggy games. You’ll want to mod the crap outta them. You’ll likely spend 100s of hours having fun, suddenly burn out, then pick them back up again years later to have fun again.

You may not finish them, and that’s not only ok, it’s a very common and acceptable way to play. Your tumblr likes will be an eclectic collection of shit posts, heart-felt art and meta, aesthetic mood boards, and no-holds-barred criticism of missed opportunities and hurtful/tired tropes. It is a fun, frustrating franchise that has been elevated to much more by fan intervention.

Welcome to Fallout.

[bijackkellys]

thunderstruck ; prologue

Fandom: Newsies (All Media Types) Relationships: Jack Kelly/David Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer  Word Count: 753 Dedications: dedicated to my amazing gf and beta reader @mistyw273​ and to @dimenovelcowboy​ for just being wonderful. some of my lovely followers also asked to be tagged (if you’d like to be added to this list just send me an ask or dm!): @santa-fe-maniac​ @pulitzers-world​ @yo-let-me-get-a-milkyway​ @verified-dumbass​ @jewishdavidjacobs​ @agentsnickers​ @thetruthabouttheboy​ Author’s Note: so here it is, finally—the jathvey superhero au i've been sitting on for a little while. first of all, i want to say thank you for being here; i'm really excited to get this out of my head and see where my muse takes it. some notes before we begin: i do have a plan for this, start to finish, but only the first few chapters have been written out, so updates may come slowly. action and friendship are probably going to be the most important aspects of this fic, because while the ot3 is the endgame, my focus is building them as a team and as friends first and foremost. there's going to be violence but with the plan that i currently have it won't be gory or overly graphic. think like, a marvel movie. i'll also post warnings for specific triggers in the notes of each chapter. with that being said, let's get on with the introduction. tws for this chapter are fire and major character death (kinda).

read it on ao3

THE CATALYST FOR ALL OF THIS is a fire.

On the day that it starts, it’s snowing, the kind of biting, snarling cold that’s only found in New York in January. The city is half-buried in layers of white and dead beneath it, so when the flames catch, hot and bright and golden, it seems as though they’re the only living thing for miles.

Black smoke curls into the air above the hospital, and twelve blocks away, just outside a coffee shop, Crutchie’s fingers dig into Jack’s arm.

“Don’t,” he says. It’s more of a plea than anything, his cheeks bright red and eyes glassy from the sting of the cold. There’s fear written in every corner of his face; he must know, already, what’s on Jack’s mind. “Jack, your powers won’t do anything against the fire, let someone else handle it—”

Jack’s not listening, too busy tugging on his mask and pulling out of Crutchie’s grip. He’s right, maybe—Jack can summon lightning to his fingertips but will be powerless in the center of an inferno, and in the moment he can’t bring himself to care. “I’ll be back,” he tells Crutchie over his shoulder. “I always come back.”

Crutchie yells something after him that’s lost to the blizzard.

When Jack reaches the hospital, the fire has spread; he can feel the heat of it in the air, a stark contrast to the still-falling snow that’s turning black with ash. Around him people are screaming. For a brief, fleeting second he hesitates—the fire department will be here soon, and they will do what they can, and he could turn back now.

Except he can’t, not really. Not away from this. He strips off his coat and tugs his scarf over his mouth and nose and someone behind him calls out to him, but then it doesn’t matter because he’s already inside.

It’s like stepping into hell. Jack thinks he could die from the smell alone; there’s smoke everywhere and it’s suffocating, burns in his throat and his nose and threatens to strangle him.  He can’t focus on that, though, can’t focus on the oppressiveness of the heat and the fire in his lungs. He has to find the stragglers and get out—he can hear voices coming from every direction, reverberating in his skull. Jack blinks the soot and sweat from his eyes and takes off towards the closest one.

There’s a woman half-pinned under her wheelchair, sobbing for help. The metal is searing already; he bites back a cry as he wrenches it off of her and slings one of her arms over his shoulder, half-dragging her back to the entrance. She’s saying something to him but he can’t hear her over the roar of the flames and the ringing in his ears. The moment she’s safe, he tears back inside.

Jack pulls two more people out of the building, a young girl still clinging to a stuffed turtle, a nurse who’s stumbling blindly through the smoke, and runs back in a fourth time. Distantly, he wonders why the sprinklers never turned on, wonders if the firetrucks have made it through the blizzard—he doesn’t know how much longer he can do this, honestly. His vision is going blurry, tinted at the edges from the heat and smoke and exhaustion, but there’s still voices coming from inside. He has to keep going—

When the entrance to the building caves in, what could be minutes or maybe hours of dragging people through smoke and fire later, it’s striking in its finality, like the last nail on a coffin. Like his fate has been sealed. Jack feels his legs give way in the same manner—he could find another exit, he thinks, but oh, the room is spinning ferociously. There’s tongues of red and gold around him, and voices still piercing the air, and he thinks of Crutchie, standing in the snow and still waiting for him to come back, to keep his promise.

In the end it’s Spot’s voice in his head, words from years ago when Jack had only just started donning the suit. He was more solemn than Jack had ever seen him, eyes like chips of coal as he told him gravely, you can’t save everyone.

But Jack had been sixteen and restless and determined, and now he’s eighteen and burning and maybe already dead.

No, he had said then, and thinks again now as he finally, finally shuts his eyes. But I can sure as hell try.