#<probably overkill but there might be show-onlys

[mechanicalchickens]

Oh! That’s most certainly Mitzi, on first read I didn’t look close and thought that was Atlas’s silhouette. All the old crew are caught adrift in what was, huh.

Which means that which ‘makes light for dead eyes’ is the dead tree… does it represent Atlas? Or the dead husk of what he built, upon which Mordecai Mitzi and Victor project so much?

What is that veining the tree? Lightning?( the crackles certainly suggest so).

Or is it water ? a flood slowly seeping through the dead husk of what was built, until it all cataclysmically crumbles (the primary mechanisms of which would be ROT and slowly building water pressure, very thematically appropriate).

They’re in a desert, with a singular dead tree. a trickle would bring life, a deluge will lead to flash flooding and destroy the tree. But I’m not sure what water IS metaphorically in that interpretation of the scenario. I do know that the great flood of 1927 is coming.

There’s a storm brewing in the sky(which would bring WATER), maybe they’re all waiting for lightning to strike twice — that would make Atlas’s first entrance into their lives a metaphorically lightning strike, ultimately destructive. And if the tree crackles with energy, then perhaps that suggests that is what M&M&V are doing — living off the aftershocks of energy, waiting for another lightening strike even if that might mean doom.

Interesting, not quite sure what to make of it, except that living trapped in memory is unlikely to end well for any of them!

#Lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #mitzi may #mordecai heller #Viktor vaasko #lackadaisy spoilers #<probably overkill but there might be show-onlys #this isn’t quite meta. more rambling about symbolism #that doesn’t quite jump the gap to theorizing #maybe I’ll figure out a coherent interpretation. what does it MEAN #is water the lifeblood of the city taken to excess? #is it renewal and rebirth turned destructive because of how much they’ve built on memory? #I do know that there is a water motif. and that there is a flood coming #am I missing the point? probably #maybe it’s just saying that atlas was an oasis in the desert for the old crew and they’re left staring at the dried up remnants of it #holing for life to come back #idk #*hoping

[pit-and-the-pen]

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 2

Sorry this update took a little longer, I had some personal stuff going on and my work schedule was pretty packed this week.

Also, this is a fix-it fic. It'll be following the events of the whole series so buckle in y'all.

Chapter warnings: Warnings: Mention of abuse/ trauma, one comment about weight in terms of said said abuse , minor blood

WC: 9.6K

Read the previous parts here

[prologue] [chapter 1]

“Rhys is the most handsome High Lord.” I read line after line of similar words. I rolled my eyes at my brother's antics. 

“He’s sure laying it on thick.” I say as I sat down next to Feyre. She looks up from her writing and gives me a guarded laugh. 

“At least I’m entertaining.” She huffs out. 

“I can help you too, if you want. Give you a break from him.” She raises her eyebrow at me, studying me with a look that made me want to sink in on myself. 

“Why?” She asks sharply  

I willed my temper down. “Because despite what Tamlin might tell you, we’re not evil,” I spit out at her, she doesn’t flinch even slightly at the venom in my voice. “And you’re going to be here once a month for the foreseeable future. I’d like us to at least tolerate each other. Plus, it would piss off my brother.” Her eyes shone with mischief.

“You should have started with that.” And that was that. I pushed Rhys’ papers to the side and picked out a few books that had been my favorite. The plots are interesting enough to make up for the basic words used. Feyre caught on fairly easily. She could recognize almost all of the basic words but struggled to read them out loud. Not fully understanding how the sounds mashed together. We sat and read, and then when that got to be too much for her we just started talking. It was nothing deep, not really gossip either. Just casual words thrown back and forth until she asks out of the blue. “What’s the deal with Tamlin and Rhys?” I froze into stillness only fae possessed. Sensing my discomfort she backtracked. “You don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have asked.” Her voice held a little edge of fear. I forced my shoulders to relax. 

“No, you have every right to ask. It’s…complicated. You’re walking into centuries old distrust and unfortunately, are caught in the middle.” It wasn’t fair to her to be caught in all of this old shit. That was our baggage and I could see it was affecting her but she pressed on.

“But why do they hate each other so much?”

“I’m not the best person to ask.” She narrowed her eyes at my non-answer. I sighed. “We’ve both done some terrible things to each other's courts, the wounds run deep and that’s all I’ll tell you.”

“Why?” She would not let up. 

“Because you love Tamlin. And I don’t want you to think I’m trying to ruin whatever picture you have of him.” That really seemed to pique her curiosity. 

“You had a different experience with him?” It felt like she had punched me in the stomach. No. That’s the problem, I had the exact same experience with him and I ended up just as broken as I can see you’re becoming. 

“That’s not a story for today.” I tried to keep the shake out of my voice and maybe it was that, or the fear I know I couldn’t keep off of my face that made her drop the subject with a small, “okay”. 

It was lunch time before we decided to take a break.  “Do you want to eat here or go out with the others?” 

“Rhys will just pull me out if I don’t.” 

“My brother can fuck off. What do you want to do?” I saw a ghost of a smile twitch across her face. So we ate in the library. I left only long enough to stack up two plates full of food. Rhys took in the amount of food I was grabbing, 

“Hungry today?” I only stuck my tongue out at him and walked back out of the room. 

Rhys joined us a little after lunch. If he was surprised to still see me in here, he didn’t let it show. I didn’t leave until Feyre told me she was okay with me doing so. 

It was probably overkill to be so protective of her, Rhys was the last person who would ever try to hurt her or anything like that but she was still uneasy around him. She hid it well with the sheer disdain she showed him but I could tell from the rigidness of her shoulders and that slight edge in her voice. But there was also something else there that I couldn’t put my finger on. 

Feyre had stayed in the library long after their meeting. I found her hunched over another book, finger slowly tracing over the words. She hardly looked up as I placed another plate of food in front of her and went to walk out of the room. She didn’t call after me and I was okay with that. Scared she might start another round of questions. 

I didn’t see much of her after that. So I traveled back and forth between Velaris. Spending half my time at the manor and the other half actually doing my job as researcher. I really didn’t have to work but it gave me something to fill up my days. Before Amarantha I spent most of my time helping Cassian manage the Illyrians, from the background of course. Being the High Lords sister did not save me from their views on females. So I only showed up when necessary, Azriel and Cassian always following behind me. They learned fast enough to keep their tongues in check if they wanted to keep them in their mouths. 

Currently I was looking at old maps of Prythian. Combining through records for landscapes and t river patterns. Where the boundaries have shifted over time. And then came the daunting task of trying to pick out recountings of the old war. Figuring out who does best with what court. Prepping for the outcome we were all dreading, another war with Hybern. 

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to get from these books.” Cassian said, absently flipping through the large leather bound book I had just placed to the side. 

“Anything. Weakness, strengths, strategies, gods, anything.” I said leaning back. I knew I had to take a break, when I closed my eyes I could still see the words swirling in the blackness behind my eyelids. I took a deep breath and went to look at the giant map I had covered my desk with. Pins and markers to recount every movement during the last war. 

“Do you really think that it’s going to help?” I know he wasn’t trying to be rude. His voice was soft when he asked and my shoulders sunk in slightly. 

“I don’t know. But if it does…” He nodded in understanding. Azriel knocked lightly on the door, making both Cas and I jump. He had learned to knock now after he had to dodge out of the way of the book I had launched at him last week. I still haven't reaccustomed myself to how quiet his footsteps could be. A skill I had once prided myself on, I had even been able to pick up on those silent footsteps and find him before he wanted to be seen. 

“Just wanted to remind you two to eat.” He looked at the books strewn across the table, taking note of the one Cassian was still flipping through, playing with truly. “I know how you can get when you’re focused. Time for food.” He smiled at the shy look I gave him from being called out. Many times he had to drag me out of my office when I really got into something. His smile made me think he was remembering those times too. 

“If we go, will you two stop making eyes at each other?” Cassian spoke up, making me break away from Azriel’s stare. 

“We were not.” I responded, trying to tame the blush in my cheeks. Get it together. I told myself as I forced myself to turn to Cas. His eye roll was the only answer I got. Azriel had already started walking down the hall and I slapped Cassian on the arm.

“You’re so annoying sometimes Cas.”

“And you love me for it.” He gave me a loud, wet peck on the cheek and gave a full head-thrown-back laugh when I made a big show of wiping it off. 

I didn't return to the other house that night. Opting to stay with my friends. One of whom, Cassian, had gone into the wine cellar and returned with his arms almost full of the expensive bottles. I just laughed as he shot me a wink. I blew him a kiss back as I settled down on the couch besides Mor. 

We didn’t bother getting glasses, passing the bottles around while we talked about absolutely nothing, acting like we had during our teenage years. It was later in the night before Rhys appeared in the living room. He took one look at all of us and rolled his eyes before he swiped the bottle out of my hand and brought it to his lips. 

Mor and I were fully supporting each other's weight on the couch, I couldn’t tell who was leaning against who more but our giggles started to get louder and more frequent. She whispered to me so quietly I had to strain to hear her. “Stop staring at him.” And we fell into another fit of giggles.

She was right though, everytime Azriel talked I could feel how my eyes stayed locked on him. Reminding myself to breathe when he pulled the bottle to his lips. I pushed off of Mor and went to stand up, wobbling slightly as my feet touched the ground. Azriel made a move like he was going to catch me if I took a face first dive on the carpet but when I steadied myself, he moved back. It happened so fast I wonder if I imagined it.

“I think it’s bedtime.” I said, mouth feeling mushy as the words came out. Mor laughed again and I turned to face her and gave her a rude gesture. I offered that same hand to pull her up to her feet and she pouted before taking it. Everyone seemed to get the hint that it was late so all of us in our various drunken states started the climb up the stairs to our rooms. Good nights thrown through the hallways, Cassian all but screaming it to make sure Mor and I heard him. The sound made us flinch before laughing again as I closed the door to my room. 

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

Before I knew it Feyre’s week was officially up. She had demanded to be brought back home and I fought down the biting comments I wanted to make as Rhys agreed. I stepped besides the pair and she looked over to me for a brief second before pretending that neither of us existed. 

“You don’t have to come with me. Rhys spoke into my mind and replied with a shake of my head. I could do this for Feyre. Despite every part of my body screaming at me for bringing her back to the Spring court, if she could be brave then so could I. He sighed at my stubbornness but knew that there was no changing my mind. 

We weren’t going far. Simply dropping her at the border of spring and summer and making sure she got into the manor. I could manage that. Yet as we were getting ready to winnow in, I felt my hands go clammy. I remember me saying I’ll never go back there willingly.

The smell was the first thing that hit me. The overwhelming floral scent. I could smell the roses from the outside of the manor this far away, their sheer number coating the air with a smell that threatened to suffocate me on the spot. 

“Goodbye, Feyre.” She had already started walking before he finished speaking, not sparing so much as a glance back to us. So we stood and watched her retreating figure until those wooden doors closed behind her. That was that. 

We didn’t return to Hewn city, instead winnowing outside the townhome. 

Rhys didn’t stay to greet our friends. Instead, he all but ran up the stairs to either go to his study or his room. Everyone gave me a tentative look before I shrugged and sprawled out on the couch besides Azriel. 

He didn’t try to pull away from me. Instead, he lifted his hands from their spot on his lap. His way of telling me I could place my legs up so I didn’t have to sit awkwardly to avoid his wings. I did and I ignored how happy that little gesture made me. Over the last few weeks he seemed to be able to handle being around me again.

Cassian started rapid firing questions at me. What is she like? She threw what at Rhys? Anything for scraps of what their brother's mate was actually like. Sure they had gotten the story of her trials but this was different, getting to know who she actually was. Cassian seemed pleased to know she was still just as head strong. “Maybe someone will finally humble him a little.” He chuckled 

 Rhys spoke up as he entered the room. “Who’s humbling who?” He picked at an invisible piece of lint on his shoulder. The only sign of how upset sending Feyre back had made him. 

Cassian didn’t answer but instead asked “Did she really throw a shoe at you?” He laughed when Rhys shot me a dirty look. Answering the question for him. “I want to meet her.” Cassian said and I swore he was almost pouting. 

Rhys sighed, “And have you scare her off.” Cassian looked hurt so Rhys added, “Let her get more adjusted to me before we add all of this into the mix. Besides, she cannot see Velaris. Not when…” not when she came back to Tamlin. Not when she could still spill every little secret of ours to one of our biggest enemies. 

Cas looked like he wanted to argue but only said “Princess gets to see her.” 

“Because I have a winning personality.” I smiled at him and he launched one of the small pillows from his chair at me. I managed to deflect it but as it bounced off my arm it hit Azriel square in the face. I bit down my laughter at his faux outraged face. He threw it back and before I knew it, they were yelling at each other, well Cas was yelling and Azriel was trying his hardest not to laugh.Sensing a fight was emanate, I pushed off of Azriel and spoke loudly over the two Illyrian males. 

“Outside if you’re going to fight.” Even Armen, who had stalked into the room around as Rhys laughed at that. 

Cassian turned to me, his temper still flaring. “We’re not dogs.” 

“Last time you both fought in the house, I was cleaning up glass for a week.” I raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him to say otherwise. 

Azriel spared Cassian from having to respond. “C’mon.” He said, pulling Cassian to what I could only assume was the training ring. 

“I forgot how much you look like Rhys when you get bossy.” Cassian said as he was pulled from the room. And my responding gesture made the rest of the room go up in laughs. Rhys followed them out. Probably needing to get rid of his own tension and Armen had snuck back into the research room. 

I didn’t have it in me to just stare at maps all day long, regardless of knowing how much I needed to. So I just stayed in the living room, a random book from the shelf pulled onto my lap. 

Rhys came back first, hair only slightly disheveled, wings out proudly. “Once I get out of the bath, it’s time for your training.” I huffed and he could sense I was about to argue with him. “Cassian and Azriel told me you can’t use your powers.” Traitors. “So we’re going to figure out what the hel is wrong.” 

Less than an hour later I was sitting in Rhys’ study. A small candle flickering in front of me, taunting me to snuff it out. I pulled and pulled for any of the small dark tendrils to do so but found nothing. Sweat was beginning to form on my brow with how hard I was concentrating. 

Rhys huffed in frustration at my lack of progress. “It was easier teaching Feyre to read.” 

“Then by all means, go back to that. I’d love to see her throw another shoe at you.” I bit back at him and he just rolled his eyes. 

“Try again.” He went right back to business, ignoring my statement. I really did try. I Have been trying. That rich darkness that normally lingered under my skin seemed like it was hidden behind a wall. Just out of my grasp, so close I could almost taste it, almost touch it. I yelped as I reached out towards it. Pain flickering through my body as if it had burned me. Rhys’ hand on my shoulder snapped me out of whatever had happened. Sweat broke across my skin and I flinched as I felt my magic fight against the wall inside my head. 

“What’s happening?” I spoke to my brother. He just stared at me before I felt a phantom knock at my mental shields. I forced them open and almost screamed at the pain that flooded through me. I knew the moment he found it. Felt that sickening thread of magic that never released when the spell broke for the other high lords. Rhys’ presence in my head retreated and we could only look at each other. No words to be found between us. 

“Fuck.” The first word he uttered and I somehow found it in myself to laugh. 

“That bad?” 

“Good news is there’s not a physical block. No magic stopping you.” So why did he still look like death froze over? “Bad news, you’re the block.” 

“Go on?” 

“I don’t fully know but it looks like your magic is being tied up by your own magic.” 

“So, you’re saying. I’m the problem?”

“I’ve been saying that your whole life but yes, especially in this case.” He teased, trying to lighten the new tension in the air. I bite 

“Well then that simply means you’re going to be stuck with me a lot more. That or I go to Helion.” He rolled his eyes at the mention of the other high lord, one who has been trying for the last few centuries to get me into his bed. 

“Maybe.” shit. It must be serious if he’s actually willing to let Helion help. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.” He says solemnly and points back to the candle. I stare at him for a moment before sighing and trying to cover the light again. 

We sit as I try again and again and again. Nothing besides a small puff of black smoke to let us know that I’m even trying. Right as I’m about to say something I see Rhys flinch and his eyes flare with anger. Only not at me, his eyes look far away as that anger homes in on whatever must have made his shoulders tense. 

I see his eyes come back into focus and I don’t even have to ask before he’s spilling. “He hurt her.” I don’t need him to say who. “I can tell it’s nothing serious but I got nothing but pure fear from her.” Rhys had already explained that the bargain amplified the usual effects of the mating bond. That he could sometimes get whiffs of any strong emotion from Feyre. Fear, anger, mostly fear but as her nightmares have started to fade I haven't heard much about it. My stomach curls and I try to will my hands to not shake as my mind drifts to the endless possibilities of what could have happened. 

“It’ll be okay. She’s strong.” The words felt wrong in my mouth and Rhys said the very thing I had been thinking.

“You were strong.” 

“Well you can’t very well march in there and get her.” I saw the look on his face. “You can’t, we can’t. And she still doesn’t want us. Unless it feels like that first time…” He shook his head. So not as bad. Still bad, still awful enough for her to send fear down the bond but not bad enough that Rhys could only hear her screaming for someone to get her out of there. So we both let it go, ignored the thoughts that told every part of us to go help this girl from whatever Tamlin was inflicting. But even I knew that Tamlin’s anger comes from his love. That anger so wrapped in fear that something will happen that he almost wills those incidents into existence. 

We spend hours trying to break whatever block is in my head until I’m grumpy and all but biting his head off at every little comment he makes. He bites right back at me and I know there's no point in this anymore, both of us too on edge to do anything productive. Throwing his hands up in surrender he doesn’t stop me as I storm out of his study. I run head first into Azriel on my way to my room, his hands resting on my arms so I don’t topple over. 

“Training went that well.” He says with a small chuckle. The noise sends a low growl from my throat and he takes his hands off of me. “We’ll figure this out.” He says and I continue my path to my room, not staying long enough to see the concern in his eyes. 

I was still grumpy by the time that dinner rolled around but I managed to pull myself out of bed. My head is pounding from the strain and whatever Rhys did inside my mind. I throw on the first thing I find, still in my thin nightgown I pulled on after my bath, and head down to dinner. I don’t say much and not even Cassian tries to cheer me up, all he does is remind me that I’m joining them for training in the morning. I don’t respond with anything other than stabbing the chicken on my plate with extra force. 

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

I struck the center of the dummy and looked over for Cassian for any semblance of approval. He gave me a bored look and I stomped over to the stupid thing and pulled all three of the daggers out of it. Cas wanted me to get back up to snuff with long range before he put a sword in my hand again. I had never needed the sword that I kept strapped to my back on the missions I would accompany Azriel on, always having my powers to stop anyone from getting that close in the first place. Between Azriel shadows and my blanket of darkness, very rarely did we ever need anything more than truth teller. 

I grunted in frustration as the sharp metal flew through my fingers time after time, all of them hitting the center of the target. 

“Fuck this Cas, I did the warm ups, I did the exercises. Let me fight.” I needed to do something more than this. If I couldn’t use my powers, if they never came back, I needed to be useful. In no world would I just sit around and let my friends risk death while I sat around playing with my maps. Cassian must have heard the desperation in my voice because he agreed. 

We circled each other and I got a rare glimpse of Cassian with no restraint. This was the war general that scared people just by being on the battlefield. I tried not to let the frision of fear show as he surveyed every inch of me, seemingly reading my body language like I was screaming my next moves at him. I didn’t stand a chance. His fist made contact with my nose before I could turn out of the way and I fell to the ground. My hand went up and when I pulled it back, my fingers were sticky with my blood. Cassian was instantly in front of me, mumbling out apologies. I held up my hand to stop him from talking. 

“Cassian.” A stern voice called out as I ran my hand along my nose again, feeling for any breaks. “What did you do to her?” Azriel’s voice was full of concern as he knelt besides Cassian. 

“Alright bat brains. I’m not dying,” I started to stand up and they both reached out their hands to help me up, I swatted them away and brushed off the dust on my pants. “It’s not the first time I’ve been too slow before, and it’s not going to be the last.” They both stared at me and I rolled my eyes. “C’mon. I still have to beat you Cas.” He shook his head laughing and Azriel shot him a glare. 

Cassian, never one to back down from a challenge, and never one to miss an opportunity to piss off Azriel, agreed to go back into the ring with me. He coached me through it this time, slowing down his punches to explain how to predict them and block them. All things that I knew but just needed more practice. By the end of the hour I was covered in sweat but I was able to block him without his guidance. Azriel didn’t leave either, hanging back to watch, adding his own little tips and tricks to help me get some advantage over Cassian but I still couldn’t get him to budge an inch. 

“Do you want to get in with her then?” Cassian shouted to Azriel as he continued to assist me from the side lines. I made a motion for Cassian to stop as I tried to catch my breath. Placing my hands on my knees and sucking in screaming breaths. 

“I think I’m done.” I panted out.

“If you wanted me to make you breathless princess, all you had to do was ask.” He winked and tossed a canteen full of water over to me. I drank half of it in one long gulp and forced myself to stand up straight. My muscles were already crying out in protest. Tomorrow was going to suck for sure. 

The three of us walked back up to the house, laughing and joking and I felt proud of the progress I was making. Even if the dried blood still on my hands might have suggested otherwise. 

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

A month went by so fast, I had to tick off the days to make sure I was right.I woke up to Rhys preparing to collect Feyre from the spring court again. Rhys didn’t ask me to go with him this time, after that last flood of emotions he knew he would have a hard time containing himself let alone both of us. 

I was already waiting at the house for when they got back, ready to play mediator if need be. They had barely materialized before my brother was fussing over Feyre. The two bickered back and forth but from the way she looked over herself, I knew even she could hear the worry in his voice. She had lost more weight since the last time she had been here. The shadows under her eyes creeped back onto her pale skin. “Eat breakfast with me.” He said and I shifted from my place in the living room. Mor was somewhere in the house after her visit to the Court of Nightmares yesterday. Probably still decompressing with the bottle of wine she took with her to bed. 

I gave Feyre a small smile and she didn’t return it, but she didn’t glare at me either. It’s a step at least. The female in front of me gave a heavy sigh after weighing Rhys offer. The growl I heard come from her stomach seemed to make the decision for her. I didn’t follow them, if she had wanted me to I would have been able to tell. So I stayed close enough that I could swoop in and save her from my brother's overprotectiveness if need be. The glimpses of their conversation I caught weren’t the best but I stilled completely as I caught, 

“I was tortured, beaten and fucked until only I could tell myself who I was, what I was protecting. Please- help me keep that from happening again. To Prythian.” My heart ached at the words. He had had it so much worse than I did, regardless of what people might believe. I could see it on his face during some of his bad days, the scars of what Amarantha did to him. I didn’t listen to her response as I walked to my room. 

I found Feyre the next day as I had the last time, hunched over the table with more lines from Rhys to read. She was copying them in better handwriting than she had before. When I approached she didn’t so much as look up at me. I called her name gently and still nothing. So I took that as my sign to let her be. Rhys had gotten called to the war camps later that day. 

“Just look after her please. I know she’s fine but let me know if either of you need anything.” He blabbered as I all but pushed him out the door. 

“We’ll be fine, you overprotective mother hen.” His face fell slightly and I couldn’t stand that look on his face. “I’ll let you know if she needs anything, okay? Now go be a High Lord.” I saw a hint of a smile as he winnowed out of the house. 

I tried to stay out of her way. Whatever bit of goodwill she had allowed me last time seemingly disappeared. So I kept bringing her books when she ran out of the ones Rhys had given her, brought her food and left her to her own devices. Today, she didn’t give me a glare as I sat down in the armchair on her left. I opened my own book without giving her a second glance. The small hmph she made was the only indication she had even noticed my presence. She didn’t want to talk and quite frankly, neither did I, perfectly content with getting lost in our own books. 

It was around midday and the sun was just starting to peek through the heavy curtains of the library when I felt Rhys appear in the room. In his hands were trays of food which he presented to Feyre. A small thank you left her lips and I wanted to smack that smug look on Rhys face as he teased her. But then I saw his face get serious and I suddenly felt very much like I was intruding on a private moment. “Tell me how I can help you.” His voice was scratchy and I knew he was trying to hold back tears, to keep the conversation casual enough that she wouldn’t shut him out again. I truly did try to tune them out but these were the same things I had been wanting to say to her all week but couldn’t find the strength. 

“If you fall apart then the bitch wins. All of that is for nothing and she wins.” Rhys said plainly and Feyre flinched before going back to her book. I could tell that she was talking to him in her mind. My eyes grew wide when I saw that slight layer of frost cover the book cover. Rhys barely had time to dodge said book as it was thrown right at his head. It bounced harmlessly to the floor and I stifled a laugh. The laugh died in my throat when I saw the flicker of flames in her palms and I tried to reach my mind out to Rhys, he all but threw me out. 

Feyre and Rhys left later that day. I didn’t offer to come with, didn’t want to come with. Just like last time when Rhys returned to Velaris, he stalked to his office and hid out for the rest of the evening. I only got close enough to the door to leave a plate of food outside before retreating back to my side of the house. His emotions pouring through the door were enough to give me a headache, the way it felt like I was walking into a brick wall. I didn’t try to talk to him for the rest of the day. Instead choosing to pull my attention back to the map in my study. 

I had been neglecting it to focus on Feyre and Rhys but I knew it’s just because I wasn’t getting anywhere. No matter how many books I read, I couldn’t think of anything that would help us win this war. Not without all seven courts working together and I knew Hel would freeze over before that ever happened. 

So I read until my eyes became blurry and heavy. My head had gotten so heavy like the words were getting stuck and wouldn’t leave. When I felt my eyes starting to close and knocking on the door jostled me awake. I saw the shadows before I saw him, too tired to notice that they had time to take in my current state and report back to Az. 

“You should take a break.” He said as he went to pull up a chair at the table I was sitting at. 

“I can’t take a break when I haven’t found anything yet.” I whined at him. “I’m supposed to be good at this, I am good at this. Or at least I was.” I slumped in my chair and I saw that familiar look of concern flash through his warm amber eyes. He sat there, I could almost see the gears in his brain turning, his shadows starting to swirl around the floor like soothing waves. I stared at them and felt my mind calm slightly. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, wings flapping behind him. 

We just sat there in silence for a few moments and then he stood up suddenly. My eyes tracked the movement, following his arm as he extended a hand to me. It was like my brain short circuited at the gesture. He had to clear his throat before I snapped out of it and I timidly placed my hand in his. He led me out of my office and I felt his shadows on my heels. “Where are we going?” I laughed at how ridiculous this must look, one of the fiercest Illyrian warriors towing someone behind him like an excited kid. 

“Just be quiet. You’ll know when we get there.” His own voice full of an almost giddy excitement. So I let him pull me along. All the way outside until it clicked. There was a little patch of grass beside the Sidra that I loved to sit by when the weather was just starting to turn warm. Our little group used to spend free days out on that field, just soaking in the warmth. He gave me a proud smirk when we finally reached that stretch of grass. “Now, you’re going to sit and just enjoy being out here.”

“Is that an order?” I teased and he didn’t miss a beat. 

“If that means you’ll actually do it, then yes.” I sat and looked out over the river. The lights and sounds of the city walk could just trickle in, becoming a lovely hum in the back of my mind. I patted the spot next to me and Azriel sat beside me. I curled my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on top of them. Just looking at the city I loved so much. We didn’t talk, Azriel was always good for that. He knew when I needed the quiet. The sound of the small waves helped clear my head and after a while I felt my shoulders sink down, the tension lightening. It was still there of course but became more manageable as I could smell the water and Azriel’s pine and fresh air scent. It wrapped its way around me and held me like my favorite blanket. 

“Thank you.” I said, breaking the comfortable silence. We didn’t look at each other, still staring out at the city just ahead. 

“Of course. Anything for you,” He cleared his throat, “For one of my friends.” I bit down the string at that little word. I fought the urge to put some distance between us at the feeling that flooded me. The cruel reminder of just exactly how he saw me. So I just pulled my legs in tighter and ignored all the thoughts of him that began to take over. 

We didn’t head back to the house until sundown. The pair of us walked under the flickering faelights that lined the streets. It still blows my mind how much the city changed while I was gone. I told him that much. And he shrugged off the tiny complement. 

“Rhys and I will never be able to thank you enough for how much you all did while we were…gone.” My voice felt tight as I finished, “You kept our home safe when we couldn’t.” He turned to look at me and went to say something but stopped himself. His face looked slightly pained, in that concerned way he always managed. He shook his head slightly. 

“You did more than we ever could. You and Rhys gave us a chance to have something to protect in the first place.” In his words, I was pulled back to that night when it had all gone to shit. How Cassian and Azriel were out dealing with the camps and how I couldn’t convince Rhys not to go so I insisted that I come along. I had to beg him to let me come with him and he still wasn’t happy about it. We walked right into a trap and before most of his power had been ripped away from him he wiped the memory of Velaris from everyone who was under the mountain and let our friends know what was happening, how they couldn’t come after us without leaving Velaris unguarded. 

Azriel’s small nudge to my shoulder pulled me back to the present and his eyes asked the question before he needed to. 

“I’m okay.” But I felt how my arms had wrapped around myself but he didn’t say anything about it, letting me have my space. We reached the house again and I could hear Cassian and Mor’s voices floating down the hallway. The sound alone plastered a smile on my face. Azriel followed behind me as I rounded the corner and Cassian all but cheered when he saw me. “There you are princess, we went to pull you out of your study but it seems someone beat us to it.” He gave me a small wink and I laughed at the joke behind it. I shook my head as I sat down next to Mor who was already pouring me a glass of wine. 

Rhys spoke to me across the table, “I peaked in and saw the map, tomorrow if you’re up for it I want all of us to go over it.” I nodded and he smiled at me. And we all ate and joked and I left the love I felt for the people in the room washed over me like the waves in the Sidra. 

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

“So if it comes down to war. Who do we have?” Rhys turned to Cassian and myself. We were all sitting around the map I had been working on, face grim as I explained the various markings. 

“The Illyrians don’t have a choice. The court of nightmares should. We kept up pretty well with Dawn and Day. Winter…” His voice trailed off. I still remember Kallias’ face as the news broke of the attack on Winter. The thousands of babes dead by Amarantha’s hand. The pure loathing his face held as he looked at Rhys. 

“I can talk to them.” I had always liked Kallias. And from the little bit I’ve heard since our return home, he finally married Viviane after being friends since childhood. Viviane was sweet and her, Mor and I had been known to get ourselves in trouble when together. If she would listen, Winter would come around. 

“Autumn and Spring are lost causes.” Cassian sighed beside me, slumping down in his chair. 

“Tamlin is delusional enough to think it would keep him safe.” And keep Feyre safe. But I didn’t say that outloud. “Beron is…well Beron. Unless we think we can pursue one of the brothers to take him out of the equation, I think it’s better to not plan for them.” 

“Summer?” Rhys asked pointedly ignoring Cas’ words on the other seasonal courts. 

“Tarquin is new and young. He’ll side with the majority. But I think I could talk to him and at least see where his loyalties lie.” I had only talked to the new high lord a few times during our time under the mountain. He seemed nice enough, one of the few people who was even willing to talk to me at all. No fear of the role I had been forced into and hoped he would side with us. Hoped his newness wouldn’t scare him into the easy choice.” 

“I don’t like the idea of having two courts fighting against us.” Azriel finally spoke up. I had almost forgotten he was in the room but his shadow currently sitting at my feet should have been reminder enough. “Hybern has the armies he needs and if he has the cauldron….” 

“So what do you suggest?” My brother asked, head in his hands. 

“We talk to them. Let them know that we won’t win this if we’re not unified. Remind them that we fought a war once to avoid this very thing and some courts were on the wrong side of history then and would be now.” I spoke plainly, it was the only answer. If it had been anyone else the idea would have been shot down. But Rhys just let out a heavy breath and nodded. 

“We’ll wait until we’re sure. Some courts will refuse to believe there will be a war until it’s staring them in the face.” The tone in Rhys’ voice letting us know this meeting was over. We all stayed in the room, the same exhausted look sat on our faces. “Good work.” Rhys said to me as he studied the map again. “You got all of this from books?” I had been too young to remember most of the war, let alone fight in it. But at least someone had thought it smart to recount all of it in very exact detail, I just managed to translate to current day Prythian. Rhys was silently nodding to himself as he really studied the map. The others slowly filter out of the room, leaving Rhys and I alone studying the map. 

“And these?” He pointed to the orange marks I had drawn all over. 

“Trade agreement routes, the thicker the line, the more movement there is through that path. They would be the most vulnerable areas since people know them so well. They’re also normally the quickest way between courts.” I pointed out more of the lines and pins. I had so much marked off, down to what ways the rivers flowed and where their currents changed. Rhys just drank in all the information I threw at him, only nodding along to the explanations. I was about to start on another part of the map before I saw his face freeze. 

Rhys had completely stilled besides me. That all-too-familiar far-away look on his. When I raised my eyebrow at him, “What is it? Is it…” He didn’t wait for me to finish, instead he let me into his mind and I almost flinched at whatever feeling Feyre was sending him. The crushing agony and pure terror. It was a feeling I knew all too well. These weren't the few stray glimpses Feyre had sent him while they were separated. This was the very thing all of us were holding our breath for, hoping it never happened. 

“Rhys we can’t just ignore it this time.” I spoke, already leaving the table. His hand wrapped around my wrist, making me pause. 

“If you storm in there, Tamlin has every right to declare a war.” 

“And we’ll have every right to kill his sorry ass. Something that we could have done decades ago.” I spit back at my brother. 

“Please.” His voice shook with fear. Scared for Feyre and maybe for me. I put my hands up in surrender. I couldn’t argue against the tone in his voice. 

“So how do you want to do this then?” I asked him and we started planning. 

In less than 10 minutes Mor had winnowed right on the border of spring and summer. Rhys had insisted that she come along to help. Her status would help blanket us from any repercussions. Plus her powers would come in handy if any of the guards found us. So her and I snuck into that manor I had sworn I would never see again. Do it for Feyre. Be brave for her. I said to myself as my own terror rose to a fever pitch. 

I could see the darkness already pouring out of the house. My anger quickly turned into fear. What did he do to her? The voice in my head screamed. Rhys had already broken the wards and whatever was locking her inside the house. Mor knocked out the guards before they could spot us. When we finally entered the house my blood ran cold. Sitting in a ball of inky darkness was Feyre. Her screams pierced something deep inside of me. I looked around and locked eyes with Alis. Her eyes wide as she took in my face. 

“He locked her in the house. I tried to…Please just keep her safe.” Was all the older fae had said to me. 

My heart warmed at the concern in her voice. The same concern she had once shown me. I nodded and walked towards Feyre. Whatever darkness she was wielding seemed to only be for her and as I shook her shoulder, gently saying her name they retreated slightly. I looked over to Mor who only gave me a small nod. Taking her cue, I picked up the shaking female and was startled by how light she felt. Mor spoke up from beside me. “Your guards are going to have a hell of a headache when they wake up.” 

Alis nodded in understanding and I added. “Don’t tell him where we took her. Please.” And for a second I felt just as broken as the female in my arms. I knew she would tell him, and would have to tell him but a small part of me wished she wouldn’t. But that was unfair to expect of her. It reminded me too much of the same hope I had when I left. Face sunken in and heart broken as I begged her to not tell Tamlin I was leaving. No one was there to help me and I’ll be damned if Feyre ever felt that pain. I didn’t say another word as Mor winnowed us right in front of the border. It felt like I could finally breathe again as the scent shifted to ripe fruit and salt water that marked us as safe. Marked us in summer. Feyre shifted in my arms and mumbled something softly. 

Mor soothed a hand through her hair. “You’re free.” 

Rhys quickly scoped Feyre from my arms without so much as a word. He looked at Mor and I 

“We did everything by the book.” Rhys nodded before I felt the air whoosh around my ears and I knew we had made it home. Rhys deftly climbed the stairs to take Feyre to her room and I just stood staring at my brother back. I blocked out the memories that began to rise to the surface. The scar on my arm prickled and when my other hand raised to scratch at the angry white lines that trailed down my forearm, Mors hand wrapped against mine. Grounding me in the present. 

“She’s free.” She repeated to me. 

“Thank the mother.” I responded as I started to climb the stairs suddenly bone tired. 

Feyre didn’t emerge from her room that night or the next morning. More than once I found myself standing outside her door, hand held up to knock but some part of my brain told me not to. Rhys hasn't left her side the whole time she was asleep. Whatever magic she had used in the house had exhausted her and I felt my heart pang for her. How alone she must have felt, how scared she must have been to be locked in that house. I remember my simple panic the first time I went to the basement of the townhouse. How it transported me back to under the mountain, I couldn’t imagine how it felt to be locked away again.  

When I finally did see her, she seemed to have gotten a little color back. Enough so that she was able to argue with Rhys again. I didn’t linger this time to hear the fight, letting them duke it out in private. But as Rhys turned the corner, I knew something that happened. Something important. 

”We’re going home.” 

If someone had told me two months ago that Feyre would be standing in the living room of our home in Velaris I would have probably keeled over laughing. But here we were, Feyre’s eyes flickering from spot to spot in the house. I couldn’t get a read on her face but before I could even process that, I heard a pounding on the door. Cassian’s voice filtering through the wood, already complaining. Rhys shot me a look that said deal with them please. He tried to hide it but I could tell he was waiting for Feyre’s reaction to her surroundings. A hint of anything to gauge how she was feeling. He needed her to like this place like he needed to breathe. So I excused myself from the room and slipped out the front door. 

”Are you serious Cas?”

”I want to meet her. She’s right there, my brothers m-” I cut him off, blocking both him and Azriel from trying to peek into the house. They could easily push right past me but stayed a healthy distance. 

”Do not finish that sentence. Do you want all of Velaris to know?” I whispered screamed at him and he rolled his eyes.

”I promise you drama queen, no one’s up this early. I don’t want to be up this early.” 

After a few minutes of us bickering back and forth, Rhys opened the door and said to us, “Are you all just going to stand there?” 

Cassian all but trampled me trying to get in the house. I laughed when I saw his crestfallen face as he noticed Feyre was no longer in the room. “She was here right?” He spoke to the room. 

”Maybe she’s scared of your good looks Cas, can’t have her falling in love with the wrong Illyrian bastard now can we?” I shot Rhys a wink and he growled lightly. 

”She’ll meet you when she’s ready.” Was all he said before he rangled all of us into the dining room. 

Feyre slept for the rest of the morning. She came down the stairs dressed in Night Court clothes and I felt my breath catch in my throat. The way they seemed to compliment her well enough and I had to bite my tongue to prevent me from pointing that out. Rhys met her at the door and shot me a vulgar gesture at my sugary sweet, “Be safe kids.” That I called out from my spot on the couch. I sat on the couch until the sun started to set. I had just got to the good part and debated even going to the dinner at all but I was dying to see how Feyre would handle our crazy family. If she had any chance at surviving here, she needed to like them or they would drive her crazy. Although from Cassian’s earlier words that might be the case either way. So I groaned and pulled myself off the couch, pulling on the first thing that I saw and winnowed with Mor to the front steps of the house. 

Azriel and Cassian were waiting to fly us up. Cassian wrapped his arm around Mor’s waist and Azriel did the same to me. I hardly felt my feet leave the ground before he was already placing me down in front of the door. I had not had the heart to come here since I’ve been home. Too many memories for me to want to come alone and Mor grabbed my hand as she pulled me through the threshold. We had just settled in before I heard the faint trails of Rhys and Feyre voices outside the door. I couldn’t stop the two males from bounding to the door, they flung it open to reveal a very annoyed looking Rhys. I held my breath as she stood in the doorway, eyes searching for something and she landed on me. She squared her shoulders but Cassian was already speaking.

”I promise we won't bite.” 

Last I heard, Cassian, no one has taken you up on that offer.” And I laughed as Feyre’s face blanched. I didn’t miss the way the female's eyes raked over the Illyrians as they stepped into the light. I tried not the bristle as her eyes lingered on Azriel just a fraction longer than I would have liked. Rhys introduced the two and it was Feyres response to one of his questions that made me feel a frision of pride. 

”How the hell did you manage to survive this long without anyone killing you?” She would fit right in and Cassian’s booming laugh told me that very same thing. Armen had appeared almost out of thin air as we all made our way to the table. 

Feyre was slowly filled in about how the three brothers had met. Her eyes flickered to me during the story. 

”Where do you fit into all of this, besides being his sister.” She quickly added. Everyone seemed to be waiting for me to answer. 

”I mean there's not much else to it besides that. He got stuck with them so I did too. I nearly knocked Cassian's teeth in the first time I met him and I’ve been stuck with them ever since.” I stuck my tongue out at Cassian who rolled his eyes. 

”You mean you broke your fist trying to, princess. I had to nurse you back to health and you were helpless but to fall for my charm.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes and I fought the urge to throw my bread across the table at him. If it wasn't for Feyre I would have. The rest of the stories and tales flowed out and, much to Feyre’s credit, she didn’t falter in the slightest. She interjected at the perfect moments, making jokes that had everyone roaring with laughter. Then the tables were turned onto her and Cassian was asking her about her life. After she had finished she turned to Rhys.

’I accept your offer- to work with you.” And I wanted to scream and cheer. I felt no such joy from Rhys as he started.

”Good because we start tomorrow. Hybern is starting this war and he’s going to bring back Jurian to help him.” I felt a shiver run down my back. Rhys had neglected to tell me that part. In an instant the lighthearted conversation was thrown to the side and Cassian launched into full general mode.

 I tried my best to keep up with this new bit of information, how it would throw a wrench into any attempts of a plan. I missed the conversation that followed, mind already trying to figure out the adjustments I would need to make to the map in my office. Armen managed to snap me out of my thinking. 

”The Bone Carver might indeed be willing to talk to her.” She pointed a finger at Feyre and I went to argue against the ancient female. Rhy had beaten me to it. 

”Your choice, always your choice, Feyre.” and I tried to keep the fear off my face as she answered. 

”How bad could it be.” Cassians’ answer had her face pale as a ghost and it was clear dinner was over at that moment. The others reduced to arguing over the semantics and who would be doing what in preparation for their journey to the prison. My eyes suddenly felt very heavy at the sounds of their voices. Azriel’s gentle hand on my shoulder was the sign that the arguing had stopped at all. I didn’t need to be asked a second time and as he flew me back down to the ground below Velaris, I wondered if all of us would make it through the war a second time.

Taglist: @durgenyx @tothestarsandwhateverend @quinzzelx

#acomaf #acosf #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acowar #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #inner circle #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #rhysand #feysand #rhys!sister

[rad-batson]

THIS IS FOR FANS OF CASSANDRA CAIN! PLEASE READ! I WANT YOUR THOUGHTS

(skip to the bottom if you just want silly headcanons about her :D)

Hello! So first, I want to thank everyone who read the Wayne pilot I made :) I appreciate your feedback, and I love you all.

As I'm preparing to post it on AO3, I decided to make a few (admittedly small) changes to the script, primarily around Cassandra Cain, because I haven't quite fleshed her out yet.

I don't have much experience with writing Cass, so I decided to do a bit of research on her yesterday, and wouldn't you know? I fell in love. 10/10. She didn't play a huge part in the pilot, but she will have a bigger one in the second episode, and there are a few things I think can or should be added so she doesn't feel too one-note.

There wasn't anyone who told me this, by the way. (In fact, I actually got some nice comments about her so thank you.) I just had it in the back of my mind while writing, and now that Cass is getting more screen time, I'm finding that my lack of knowledge might lead to mischaracterization.

SO TO COMBAT THIS, I MADE A GUIDE FOR MYSELF ON HOW TO WRITE CASS

Is this overkill? Probably Think of it as a silly headcanon list for my version of her. And I'm posting it here because I want your feedback before it's set in stone. (I know Cass isn't written well a lot, so this is my attempt to right these horrid wrongs.)

If you're going to give criticism, please be constructive. Tell me what you like or don't like. I'm all ears. Have fun :)

Writing Cass

(Btw I still gotta read Cass’s first Batgirl run by Kelley Puckett)

Has some sass, has a lot actually

Used to be awkward in social settings. she’s better at it when she’s with people so she can match their energy but she still prefers to just dip

Speaks in short-ish sentences, trying her best tho

I WILL BE ADDING THIS INTO THE PILOT, I JUST WANT TO KNOW TO WHAT DEGREE?? OR IS IT REALLY FINE

Mostly just relies on body language though

I WILL BE ADDING THIS INTO THE PILOT TOO, ESPECIALLY WITH THE ASL SCENE (BUT IT’S NOT REPLACING THE ASL)

also yes i know her using ASL isn't canon, it just works best for the scene, it would have been written the same whether she was in it or not, it is still a cute nod to fanon tho

Steph and Cass are extremely close BUT ALSO HAVE SEPARATE LIVES (I HAVE BEEN TOLD TO STRESS THAT AND I AGREE)

Messy, low-key gross. Bad-ish hygiene but she’s good at looking put-together so only those close know this about her (this is just my headcanon)

Often forgets bigger words so she occasionally uses the wrong one, she ALSO mixes up proverbs but no one corrects her because 1: it’s cute and 2: they don’t want to discourage her from speaking with them more casually (also my headcanon)

Cass: So I pulled the door off its…*makes motion with hand*…metal books. Steph: Do you mean hinge— Cass: Metal books.

Dick: Well that was a surprise. I didn’t know The Penguin would be here. Cass, nodding: Well life gives you grapes Dick: Wut Cass: You make grape juice. Get on the same book, Nightwing

I'M ON THE FENCE ABOUT ADDING THIS ONE BECAUSE IDK LET ME KNOW PLEASE

Is a cinnamon bun AND a little shit, it’s a balancing act

Production: She’s Wayne’s darling Princess Cass: *will break your fingers*

She does appear behind the camera crew to scare them on purpose, she thinks it’s funny, she likes seeing them freak out

She is super competitive, but she's always like "Oh I'm not that competitive" *proceeds to be very competitive*

Because she isn't super confident in her writing or speaking (or just uncomfortable communicating without seeing the other person's body language) she prefers to Facetime or simply reply to texts with selfies of her reaction. It is a thing now. when you need an honest opinion about an outfit, text a photo to Cass. She will either give back a photo of a thumbs up or a photo of a grimace and some not-so-flattering emojis

Her princess persona is her public cover persona in this show, parallel to Bruce’s “Brucie” and Dick’s “born for the cameras” thing

Is surprisingly vocal (and sometimes snippy) about her distaste with things but she mostly gets a pass because her morals align best with Bruce’s

Is most snippy when her family uses methods other than violence when violence is clearly the faster option, god they're such pacifists

Tim: *trying carefully to pick a lock* Cass: Just break through the wall? Tim: We can’t do that. We’re trying not to be noticed. Cass: Wimp

Bruce: Cass, why did you have to dislocate that man’s shoulder? Cass: I put it back. Bruce: That’s not the point. Cass: Fine, I’ll dislocate it again.

Is the best fighter, none of this “oh she’s the best fighter so when people do win against her, it makes them look cooler” thing, shut tf up, she could break their bones (not important to the show ofc but I need to add this because it is important in general)

Horrible at drawing, wretched (again a headcanon but I did see someone else mention it somewhere)

Also bad at writing, refuses to study to improve out of principle (i.e. she told Babs she doesn’t need to and now she refuses to admit Babs was right)

(AND SIDE-HEADCANON IF SHE IS HORRIBLE AT WRITING AND ACTIVELY HATED STUDYING HER ALPHABET THEN WHAT IF LIKE ONE DAY SOMEONE SAYS “hey can you grab me one of these files from last week’s case, it’s under M” SHE’S LIKE “fuck you, how could you do this to me” WHILE SEARCHING FOR M OR MORE SIMPLY *throws something at them*)

That's all I have right now. If you'd like to give me any recommendations, please do. I can't promise I'll add in every single one because this show is still about the whole Batfam, not just her, but I want to do her justice, and that definitely involves more fine-tuning on my part

OKAY THAT'S ALL LOVE YOU BYE

#the waynes script #cassandra cain #batfam #batfamily #batman #stephanie brown #dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #barbara gordon #jason todd #duke thomas #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #black bat #batgirl #bat family #cass cain #cassandra wayne #cassandra cain headcanons #batfamily headcanons #batkids

[angel-in-shibari]

a slave's collar is their most important accessory. not only does it show that they're owned, but with stylization and customization, it can also show who exactly owns them. Mistress prefers a nice rose gold band with floral engravings. to the unsuspecting, it looks like a fancy metal choker or extravagant piece of jewelry. but to those who do know, it's true purpose is undeniable.

the collar is equipped with the obvious essential features: gps, microphone, motion trackers, proximity sensors, and various devices that monitor my every movement. of course, all those features would be pretty pointless if Mistress didn't have a way to control me. that's why there are five electrodes placed equidistant from each other at various points along my neck. the electrodes can be controlled manually by a secure program that only Mistress has access to. all five can be fired individually, with 25 levels of intensity. 1 is a mild tickle. 5 is a painful shock, but relatively manageable as long as it's not prolonged. 10 is enough to bring me to my knees as I cry and beg for her to stop. she has only ever used 11 once, and I blacked out immediately. as for 25... don't worry about it

the collar features an incredibly secure and tamper-proof locking system. as it's locked, various circuits are armed. if the lock is broken and those circuits are broken... um... well. maybe you're thinking I can just wait for the battery to drain completely before taking it off without issue. think again, because there are two batteries installed that last quite a long time without a charge. the collar itself doesn't use all that much electricity, but in the case that one battery is completely drained, it will switch to the second battery. both batteries can last about 5 months each, so I'd have to go almost a year without charging for it to even reach depletion. also, once the final battery reaches its last 5% of charge, all the remaining electricity is released at once through the electrodes at level 25 until there is nothing left. basically, my collar isn't coming off with me alive.

I never have to worry about low batteries, however. Mistress has installed a number of radio frequency wireless charging devices around her mansion, meaning that as long as I am inside, my battery remains at almost full charge. the only time it has ever dipped below 99.7% is one afternoon when Mistress was extremely mad at her father and decided to take her anger out on me. whatever makes her happy makes me happy. I'm glad that my suffering is cathartic for her.

alongside the chargers, proximity detectors are placed on the outside walls. if I get to close to an exit, Mistress is automatically notified and a level 1 shock is admitted. if I get even closer, the shock is amplified dramatically. stepping outside is a level 25. the only way I'm ever allowed outside is if Mistress manually disables the 'electric fence' as she calls it. but when she does that, she has a separate system that acts in a similar way that shocks me more the further away from her I get.

you might think that all of this is unnecessary. all these systems and programs are what you might call "exceptionally overkill" or "horribly sadistic" or "just plain cruel". but the main reason they exist actually isn't to keep me in line. even if trying to take my collar off didn't kill me, I wouldn't ever dream of removing it. I would never go outside unless Mistress made me, even without the electric fence active. even the 25 levels of shock are a display of power. I'm small enough that level 13 would probably be enough to kill me.

the reason all these things exist is actually to show everyone that every single aspect of my life is completely under Mistress's control. I already know it's pointless to try and escape or fight back. I realized that before the collar was ever locked around my throat. all the ways in which Mistress has power over me are already obvious to me. because these precautions aren't for me. they're for you. to terrify you, and show you exactly what happens to people who wrong my Mistress. unless you want to end up like me, I strongly recommend you stay on her good side.

#dosnsft #lesbian bd/sm #sadistic lesbians #//kidnapping #//slave #//shock collar #//stockholm #//brainwashing #//my writing

[roll-of-royces]

HC: You Come Out as FTM Trans to the LaDS

Zayne is not surprised, he saw all the warning signs years ago. You were never very feminine in your youth, and your desire to 'hang out with the boys' as 'one of the boys' might have made it a tad bit obvious (among a slew of other clues). Regardless of the fact that he knew, he said nothing. It was your discovery to make, so he let you come to it on your own.  

When you told him, awkwardly, in too few words Zayne cupped the back of your neck in his hand and kissed you. Soft, gentle, accepting. He said, "I know, we'll figure it out together."  

He launches into your transition like a pro, starting by doing a great deal of research on the subject. Zayne is the guiding light through the first steps. He asks all of the questions, figuring out what you're looking to do in regards to your medical transition. And when he knows what you want, he starts the process for you. He vets the correct doctors needed, sets up your appointments, and always goes with you.  

Zayne is happy to correct people on your pronouns, he does it on reflex, "Sir, not ma'am. His pronouns are he, him."  

You start wearing some of his clothes, a pair of underwear goes missing, then a tie. He picks up on it and all of a sudden you're being treated to a shopping spree to pick out a new wardrobe.  

He looks into affirming exercises to help you look the way you want, and does them with you when he has time.  

When/if you decide to get surgery Zayne is there through the entire recovery process, only showing his stress through sternly stating rules. "No, you can't grab that, stop trying to lift your arms. Have you taken your pain medication?"  

When you tell Xavier he takes it extraordinarily well, in the sense of he acts like nothing has changed. Except he uses the correct pronouns flawlessly, switches to more masculine compliments, and starts call you his boyfriend. 

He adjusts quickly and expects those around you to do the same. He corrects anyone who gets it wrong right away. You didn't even have to tell Jenna and the others, you showed up the next day and everyone was carefully using your new name and pronouns (all under the sharp eye of one high level Hunter).  

Xavier starts offering you clothes, the pair of pants in the back of his closet, do you want them? That shirt he forgot about, yours now. Here take my underwear, it's more comfortable. You can't tell if he's being polite or possessive.  

He's not super helpful with starting your medical transition, he's supportive, and he'll help if you ask, but otherwise he'll journey with you to your appointments, eyes closed as the doctor goes over your options.  

He starts sporting items of pride. There's a little trans flag on his desk, a pin on his uniform. You find he's joined a few online pride communities, and has been asking questions behind your back. Things like my FTM boyfriend just came out, can I still buy him flowers? Is it weird to look at my FTM bf's ass or is that affirming?  

Xavier will commit assault upon bigots, he's fast and so no one can catch him.  

He dedicates that you are now big spoon, and curls up against your chest for all naps, complaining profusely if you don't hold him or play with his hair.

You tell Rafayel about your transition over a long carefully thought out text message. Probably a sort of cowardly way to do it, but you worry. His only response is to text back, come to my studio. With trepidation you journey to his studio, and enter to find him sitting there waiting for you, a bottle of Champaign in a bucket and a cake that says, 'Congrats it's a boy'. It's one of those gender reveal cakes.  

He adjusts right away, shifting into your new name and pronouns with a bunch of new pet names thrown in. You are now muse, my lord, handsome, thief, his highness, and sweetness.  

Rafayel insists on taking you shopping, buying you an entirely new wardrobe and setting you up with a designer as well (which is overkill but he insisted).  

Rafayel has now dictated that you are the provider in everything but money. Carry me to bed, my lord. (He doesn't care that you can't actually carry him.) Sweetness, this box is too heavy. Darling, will you crush this up to make paint for me?  

You're pretty sure Rafayel's entire legal team is at your disposal, want your name changed? He's got a guy. Someone called you a slur at work, he can have them sued. And that's not even considering what he himself will do when your 'honor' is threatened. For pretending to need help all the time he punches hard.  

All of the gifts he gives you change. Instead of flowers it's a new tie. It's chocolates, designer watches and rings. He paints a self-portrait of you in a more masculine pose and light. 

When you're feeling down Rafayel points out all the things he views as masculine that you do. The shape of your jaw is masc to him, the way you walk, the way you make him feel. He's always ready to remind you that you’re the man he wants.  

#l&ds #lads #love and deepspace #lads headcanons #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #ftm reader #can you tell Zayne is my favorite

[usernamesuggestionsarefunny]

Possibly unpopular opinion (Or perhaps not idk): I love what they have done with Zuko and Ozai's relationship in the live action Netflix Avatar show.

In the cartoon we never get the ~vibes~ that Zuko has a complicated relationship with his father, only that it is abusive and one-sided in the sense only Zuko craves Ozai's approval, while Ozai straight up hates him, wants him dead or has no problem with him dying (Why doesn't he kill him if he has Azula? We don't know, plot has to happen, he sent Zuko to find the avatar in order to get rid of him, probably, or actually canon idk or remember), clearly prefers Azula to him as successor, etc, etc, etc (+ later the comics literally overkilled this trend "she was born lucky while..." omg stfu). Zuko is basically the perfect character to prove the fire nation is not all evil (Oh look, they hate him too, he is inherently their victim too from the very beginning).

So when Zuko switches sides in the cartoon, what I see as an adult rewatching is someone giving up on luxory, physical safety and... that is pretty much it. Sure it is a big deal to give up on those things to do what is right (Few would) and still awesome that he did the right thing in the end, but if you really think about it, he is not giving up that much, he is not giving up anything truly valuable to him. Respect? Honor? Sure he is said to have received it back after Azula "killed" Aang, but we never truly see it. For all intents and purposes his sister has that and wayyy more of it. His father's love and acceptance? Never had it, so he didn't truly "loose it" when he spoke up for those soldiers, got the scar and was banished, it is not really shown to have suddenly popped into existence when he was said to have killed the avatar. He literally had nothing in the fire nation, literally nothing. This could only make "doing the right thing" a lot easier for him, and for the adult audience (At least for me), his arc is just him realizing what is almost irritatingly obvious for us: That no one in the fire nation truly loves and respects him so might as well switch sides (Basically if we weren't also shown that Zuko is compassionate and does care about the horrible things the fire nation is doing, Ember Island Players would have gotten a bit of truth in it).

Now, in the live action, where do I even start? It has been so good so far when it comes to Ozai and Zuko. That man, if he hated Zuko in a cartoonishly evil way almost from birth, he sure doesn't show it. Don't get me wrong, he is just as abusive (Creepily so in many scenes, made me feel so protective of Zuko and Azula), but he is also shown to "care" about Zuko as in having some hope left that he can mold him into another powerful genocidal mini me. Is Azula winning by far? Ofc, she is still the prodigy, I am sure I am going to see flashbacks of favoritism later on. But Ozai doesn't yet seem to favor her in a way that makes Zuko's craving for his approval (Or even Ozai's hope in him as heir) hopeless. It seems, from his scenes with Azula, that Ozai foments the rivalry and competition between the two siblings not only because he personally thinks Azula is the best (Which he also might in this version), but also as a way of control through fear (Especially for prodigy Azula), and to make them (Especially comparatively weaker Zuko) "better", something this version of Ozai appears to think is possible EVEN when he banishes Zuko. Now, he might have done this "to get rid of him" as in the original, but in the live action he seems super open to and genuinely believe the idea that the exile could make Zuko stronger and better, not to mention worthy of the throne if he succeeds. Ozai treats Zuko like the heir despite favoring Azula is all I am saying. Zuko's actions are therefore almost impossible, yes, but not hopeless or even naive. And if this trend of Ozai's respect and "love" (Super on quotes) being achievable continues, Zuko's eventual turn to the good side will be much more powerful. He will have to give up much more after spending a summer with his abusive parent love bombing him for "killing" the avatar. Zuko's choice will be solely based on his findings about the horrors the fire nation has committed and not wanting to be the cause of more suffering even though he could have it all. Even though it was his fate to be his father's "mini me"-> Something terrifyingly likely and not so quickly discarded by the narrative itself as it was in the animated series.

I think the best part about this subtle change in the father-son dynamic (If it was the intention of the writers, I am aware it could have been unintended) is that the scar tm was a direct result of Zuko's compassion for those soldiers and not just the excuse Ozai used to banish him or "final straw" because he preferred Azula sooo much more, as it is pretty much implied later on in the animated series and comics by focusing so much on how much of a perfect victim Zuko was pretty much from birth. The addition of the 41st surviving because of Zuko was also pretty nice, and so is Zuko's relationship with them, he will need fire nation allies when he gets to the throne and this is a good start, something the animated series never touched upon much.

I am on episode 6 btw so my opinion might change. I will edit this post if that is the case. BUT my thoughts on these first scenes doesn't change, they are good imho

EDIT (And spoilers): I just watched Zhao’s revelation where he tells Zuko that Ozai would never let him return and he just wanted to use him to motivate Azula. It does change things and invalidates most of what I said, but taking out just this one scene, as I said, the Ozai-Zuko dynamic is great in this show, and also, Zhao is obviously not the most reliable source, because he was allied to Azula and obviously wanted to hurt Zuko, as he was losing the fight with him. There is also the fact that Azula wasn't watching Ozai and Zuko when Ozai told his son that he was being banished and that it was in part so he could get stronger etc, that was all for Zuko and had little way of serving as motivation for Azula (Unlike the scenes where Ozai praises Zuko in front of her, those could have totally been him bullshitting his daughter to motivate her to work even harder). So all in all this scene doesn't ruin the overall impression I had of the Ozai-Zuko father-son dynamic in the life action show. In fact, it could be taken to confirm one of my impressions which was that Ozai likes pitying his children against each other to push them harder.

EDIT 2: Ozai's reaction to Zuko's possible death is further proof imo that his “test” was very much real (even if almost impossible) and everything I said earlier still stands. He wouldn't mind that much if he died, it would just prove his “weakness”, and he is very pleased with Azula, but he didn't look happy or even indifferent when he learned the news.

#zuko #ozai #atla #atlab #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender netflix #natla #natla spoilers #netflix avatar

[strwbmei]

Started playing PTN again. Might add to the character list once I get further along the story/find out more about the characters.

(LOTS of rambling below:)

But also. I absolutely HATE Ted and I was so disappointed when the gray-haired girl didn't kill him. Me personally, if I were the chief, I would've done it myself. Funny how Ted somehow manages to be far more repulsive than any sinner out there. He's absolutely disgusting. I was sick to my stomach when they implied that he wasn't only abusing the girl mentally/physically, but also sexually. Not even just Ted himself, but he also let (and probably encouraged) his men to do the same. The girl didn't even look older than 12 and she was covered in wounds that they didn't even bother to treat/dress properly.

I was FUMING when the Yagsu (Yasgu? Yusga?) guy tried to get the Chief to hand over Hecate and Hella to be "trained" the same way the gray-haired girl did. He even praised Ted for how he practically turned a sinner into his slave and said that Hella and Hecate "are at the perfect age to be trained" when they aren't even 18. Even Zoya, an S-Class sinner, has more morals than him.

On a more wholesome note, I really love the relationship between the Chief and her Sinners. The Chief lost her memories, and the Sinners have never experienced being treated with such kindness before. Even though the Chief has her shackles, she still chooses to treat the Sinners with the same respect as she would any other person. The Chief cares for them so much, and both parties trust the other with their lives.

When the Yagsu guy beat the Chief up, Hecate and Hella were ready to start a war. In particular, the way Hella was so concerned for the Chief made me feel so... warm? inside. The tone of voice she used and how soft it was (I'm using the JP dub), along with how genuine she was being was so wholesome to see. My reaction is probably a bit overkill, but it's probably because I've never had someone show so much concern for me and it affected me more because it was Hella of all people who showed so much genuine concern when she's usually so brash and almost rude to the chief. Speaking of the Chief, I love her. She's so sexy and smart and witty.

But also Hella and Ninety-Nine's relationship is so cute. They're like siblings! But of course, PTN is allergic to happiness so they both have tragic backstories and fates. I was so close to breaking into tears when I saw this doodle in a maze stage. I swear to GOD if anything happens to them I will go mad.

#strwb rambles #path to nowhere

[epicspheal]

Alright so that Neo Champion event was...disappointing. Infuriatingly so. So to start off Professor Oak sees that there are a bunch of new trainers who are struggling. Professor Oak feels like they are aiming too high and that could cause problems for them and wants to help them. So he calls Lance to gather Red, Blue and Leaf. The Kantrio think they are being summoned to help be judges when Lance surprises them by saying he wants them to be participants by teaming up with the beginner trainers. Lance and Professor Oak mention the parameters of the tournament which provides my first and probably most major critique. There's two parts: a knowledge part and a battle part. Now, the problem I have here is there should've been three parts. The name of the event is "Three Trainers, Three Minds" which implies that we're going to see how three trainers with different mindsets mentor others. So theoretically there should be three parts that showcase the strengths of their individual training styles Only there's two...so someone is going to get left out. Leaf suggests to Red and Blue that because this is an opportunity to grow they should try using new Pokemon. She mentions she was inspired by the Galar NC trio, so this gives the hint that the three had already caught the legendary birds (par for the course so far for the Neo champion events in that the Pokemon they're paired with are ones they already owned). Now it's time to train!

First we have Blue, who enlists the help of three previous neo champions to help train his team: Bede, Hop and Calem. Now this is cool because they all have the same thing in common with struggling to beat their rivals (the protagonists) and it seems like there might be some discussion where Blue talks about learning from past mistakes...or not they just kind of skip over any discussion. Oh and where's Zapdos? Not around apparently. Blue was really eager to take up Leaf on the idea of using his legendary bird but of the three he's the only one not shown to be practicing with it with his mentees. Leaf does actually use her Moltres to her team and her part of the story involves her instructing her team on how it's important to deepen their knowledge of Pokemon not just by looking at a Pokedex but by bonding with them. It then cuts to Blue meeting with Leaf in the town square. Both of them feel like training is going well for their teams, but then the conversation switches to Red. They're both concerned about their silent friend as they don't know about his teaching skills. So they decide to check on him They eventually find Red and his Articuno...relentlessly beating his team. The trainers look visibly panicked and even say they surrender at one point. Blue and Leaf try to caution Red about overdoing the tough love and that they're being judged on how well they mentor the others. Red assures them (silently) that he has this in mind and that's why's he going all out on them Now Red going ham on his team invokes him Gigantamaxing his Snorlax in the Rocket Hideout back in the Villain arc. He clearly isn't one to go easy. But where you can at least justify him really not liking Team Rocket and wanting to shut them down with haste...it's hard to say the same when of the Kantrio, he has the youngest mentees (a youngster and a camper). It felt like overkill. I can 100% buy Red not being the most natural mentor. He's not perfect and it's a good way to show that. I thought it was a little much to have him go that hard on newbies. If his team was slightly more experienced trainers but who were stuck in a rut it would've felt a little less heavy-handed. Then it's the day of the tournament. We see Blue and Leaf with their teams who are clearly nervous. Blue's team tell him they're scared of holding him back and despite them winning against Hop, Bede and Calem, they apparently lost more times than they won. Blue tells them to have more confidence in themselves but honestly it felt like they needed to hear different words of encouragement. Meanwhile Leaf's team is also feeling similarly, however Leaf manages to respond with telling them to relax and have fun. That they won't be able to show their best if they're too anxious. Where's Red and his team? Well thankfully he didn't scare his group off. In fact they run into Diantha, Alder and Steven and eagerly challenge the three champions to a battle. Congrats, Red you're Bootcamp was successful.

The tournament begins. First part is the knowledge assessment. Everyone does well but Leaf is the clear winner. Professor Oak compliments her and her team's deep knowledge of Pokemon and their love too.

Blue remarks "trust and love in your Pokemon"...which almost certainly reminds anyone who played RBGY/FRLG of what was told to Blue after he lost to Red. That was a key part he was missing. And years later, he missed it again.

Now to the battle portion. We already know Leaf has secured her spot as a neo champion so now we know narratively we're about to see another Red vs Blue matchup. Well with the Neo champion stadium being about growth and seeing interesting upsets (Calem finally beating Serena and Bede, Hop and Marnie finally taking down Gloria, Victor AND Leon) surely we're about to see something unprecedented right? Ha. Hahaha. Red, Blue and Leaf all make it to the semifinals, with Blue's team taking out Leaf's team. But then it's time to face Red's and it's clear he's at a disadvantage. Where Red's team takes the powerful hits in stride, Blue's team quickly becomes frazzled and his two mentees get knocked out rather quickly leaving only Blue left. A final clash happens between Zapdos and Articuno but Red's Articuno emerges victorious. So Blue focused too much on training them up quickly that he forgot to teach them to enjoy battling. Despite Red's training from hell, his team managed to at some point lose their fear of losing (as seen by them being fearless enough to challenge the likes of Diantha, Alder and Steven to a battle). Once again we see Blue repeat a mistake that cost him the championship title years ago: being so afraid of losing he forgot to just enjoy the battle. This leads me to my second major problem with the arc. Blue has been hinted throughout Pokemas to not only enjoy mentoring others, but to be good at it. Yet if I'm being honest, he did poorly in this story. He failed to realize his team needed better words of encouragement, he was the only one of the Kantrio to not use his legendary in training, and he failed to teach his trainees how to better bond with their Pokemon and how to enjoy battling. The only saving grace in this is that he at least in both instances of failure against Leaf and Red recognizes where he messed up and apologizes... Which would've been a great jumping off point for a third arc where he can correct those mistakes and give his team a chance at victory...oh wait...it's only two parts to this tournament. Welp With the trend of Neo Champion events being a chance for the rivals to triumph over the protagonist friends, it was really jarring and disheartening to see Blue not get a clear distinct moment to shine against both Red and Leaf (yeah he wins against Leaf in the battle portion, but it's never stated he came in second place to her for the knowledge portion which would've implied that he at least beat Red at something). We come to the end where they announce the Neo champions. Leaf is first and she's praised for having a deep knowledge of Pokemon and true love for them as well. Red is last and he was praised for being able to conquer his team's fears of losing and how sharp they looked, reminding Lance of when Red challenged him. Oak does mildly chide Red for his methods being harsh but it was kind of downplayed.

But Blue gets told his team was solid in both performances so the judges thought he should get the title too. Honestly didn't feel like he was really solid because he made two critical mistakes (that again were supposed to have been ingrained in him after his loss at the Indigo Plateau). Also the praise was more directed at his team having a solid showing but not the one thing I felt like he did really well which was own up to his faults and saw room for improvement. It's an important part of leadership and the fact that was dismissed too was annoying. Again, a third leg of the tournament the writers could've used that strength of his to give him a chance to unequivocally defeat Leaf and Red instead of just being the solid number 2. Yeah it was nice to (finally) see Professor Oak praise Blue to his face, but it honestly felt a little unearned in the sense he didn't feel amazing the way Leaf and Red got to be. It felt more like a participation trophy than him getting to back the claims up that he's made over the story of Pokemas of being a good mentor (and as he said in his sygna suit sync pair story he's supposed to be better at it than Red). So yes, the Kantrio get to all be Neo Champions but it felt like this story didn't capture the same level of growth and resolving loose ends the previous two did. Blue failed to triumph, Red kind of got away with harsh training that would've been scolded a bit more harshly otherwise, and Leaf kind of shines in a safe way but not really challenging her skills.

#pokemas #pokemon masters ex #trainer red #trainer leaf #professor oak #champion lance #rival blue #rival green #trainer blue #trainer green

[dirtyoldmanhole]

i think i almost made myself legit cry with this gunter/corrin doujin arrangement now lmao, good job krad

ok so workshopping out loud:

it's not set in stone but b/c most existing art pieces are YRMR related i'm sort of loosely arranging this doujin in three "arcs" like revelation / the YRMR fic: (1) northern fortress, (2) the romance, and (3) all the shit that goes down in valla.

eventually i'm probably going to make other gunter doujins (conquest-verse? one that's only possession (sexi times) related? etc). generally by now i make myself a rule i have to have at least 20 pages of drawn junk before i even entertain the thought of a doujin.

but to go back a little; i want this (first?) doujin to be able to exist as a standalone piece of art where you don't have to know shit about YRMR. you can, and it'd enhance the experience if you go 'oh shit that's the first proposal scene!!!! :D', but you don't have to.

and like -- if 'what's the abuse of power' was my anchor-lodestone phrase for the fic, i think contrast is going to be the visual lodestone for the doujin.

cuz that's the cool thing visually with gunter/corrin, right? big/small, young/old, whip/ball, possessed/unpossessed, death/life, etc etc. i'm not good enough art wise to go super abstract yet theme-wise, and something as simple as "contrast" pairs really nicely with my general focus on body language. and i'm picking back up a few pieces where i was using an interesting inky/smoky watercolor look paired with the thin lines -- like uhh these three --

-- and it looked pretty good together. i think that's going to help balance the chunkier lineart of the comic pages.

hell even just squinting at it here minus the tones. yeah i think it does.

(i can finally show more of this comic considering it's yrmr's very last scene. ;D )

so with those pieces set, i can subtly lean into paired pieces like this where the rest of the doujin is more visually "noisy" with 2 page comics and filled doodle-boards, but then you get :

(first piece is gonna be in greyscale; this whole thing's gonna be in b/w)

you see what i mean? the emotional contrast + stitching is there, where the "silence" + "absence" of the page straight up accentuates the feeling. you don't have to know what goes down in YRMR to go 'ouughhhh hurt/comfort' (frankly imo the unusual rougher lineart of the last piece even accentuates that.)

contrast. contrast, contrast, it's gonna be about contrast.

now you might think 'krad this is seriously overkill thinking for a doujin' and like. if it were a simple indie artbook. where you just slap illustrations together. i'd agree 100%.

but. an artbook is not a story. comics are. and there's a continuum between really good comics <=> design <=> illustration pieces as a collection going bang-bang-BANG, rather than just 'pretty picture x10'

alternatively, picture this as krad (more accurate):

#gunter doujin numero uno liveblog #< WELP here we go again #is this what pernament brain rot damage is like :D

[saltedsnailstudio]

Hi! I just found your page, love your work! I do a bit of lino printing and really enjoy it. I want to start printing on fabric but not sure how to transition.. What inks do I need, do I need to start using wood blocks, and how do I go about that, etc?

Any info or tips would be so appreciated :)

Hey, thanks!

Absolutely I can offer some tips for fabric printing! I also answered an ask about fabric printing a while back and there might be some info in there that you’ll find useful - https://www.tumblr.com/saltedsnailstudio/729384076745850882/how-do-you-print-your-linocuts-so-beautifully-on

So first off I would say don’t bother switching to wood for fabric printing. Linoleum does great! And, honestly, so does rubber. I don’t personally work with rubber/ez-cut style blocks often because I prefer unmounted battle ship grey lino, but it has been my experience that soft rubber blocks are easier to print onto fabric if you’re printing by hand. I recommend sticking with whatever blocks you like & are comfortable working with!

Since you asked about ink specifically: There’s a lot of different inks on the market you can use to make relief prints on fabric that’ll stand up to washing. Speedball has an ink made for fabric printing that some of my print friends swear by, but I personally despise it because I hate the texture of it and find it difficult to work with because it doesn’t have a very long open time. I use cranfield caligo safe wash relief inks for all my printing, both paper and fabric. I love the way it rolls out and it’s works really well for me because it’s oil based but it's water soluble before it dries, so it doesn't require wild solvents or anything to clean up like some other oil based inks do - just vegetable oil and a rag will do to get it off stuff. (careful using vegetable oil on the speedball beige/tan brayers, though, because it'll start to break down their material and make them go tacky if you dont adquately wash them and apply some cornstarch after!!) After the cranfield ink dries, it's no longer water soluble so it'll stay on fabric after washing. Keep in mind though that oil inks take ages to dry - I just hang my fabric prints up and leave them alone for a good two weeks, which might be overkill. When they're dry, I hit them with a hot clothes iron to help heat set them a bit before I wash them in cold water. I don't know if this actually does anything or is the placebo effect, but it really feels like I get less fading with fabric prints that I've heat set. You don't have to use the same ink I do, though I love it so much that I'll prostheletize it for ages, but make sure you do use an ink that's suitable for fabric printing because theres no heartbreak worse than putting all that work in only to watch it wash away.

In my experience, you'll need more ink on your block for printing on fabric than you would if you were printing on thin printmaking papers. You still don't want to just gob it on the block in one go - apply many thin layers to build up the ink on the block rather than trying to go in with a single thick layer.

Now that ink's handled, let's talk about the most important element of fabric printing: the fabric. A lot of folks have ratios of how much natural fibers vs synthetic whatever should be in the fabric you're choosing for relief printing. I'm sure those methods work for choosing good printing fabric, but I'm at a point of having failed enough times to know by look & touch if a fabric will probably work well or not. I really suggest just trying shit out, seeing if it works. I'm lucky enough to have a creative reuse center near me, but if you don't then I suggest snagging garments with fabric you like from thrift stores and cutting them apart if you're trying to make patches. You're looking for something with a nice smooth surface and a closed weave, no gaps showing through the threads. I really like tightly woven linen-y blends, personally. I've also played around on wool felt and have found it to print beautifully. When I first started printing on fabric, I went to the fabric store and got a half yard of duck canvas because that felt sturdy and very "punk" for patches. It was a miserable failure - the weave was too chunky to get really clean prints. Play around, don't spend too much money on fabric, and know that screwing up is a part of the process.

When it comes to actual printing method, I'm limited in my scope of advice for hand printing on fabric because I'm very spoiled and have a lever press from woodzilla that makes the process a lot easier for me. I'm not sure how you burnish your paper prints, but the spoon technique won't work with fabric since it'll move too much. I like to print my paper prints with the paper on top of the block and I reverse that for my fabric prints - the block lies face down on top of the fabric. I've seen folks get great results from laying down their fabric, laying their inked block on top, and then stepping on them to get more pressure than they could get from just pressing with their hands. You need a lot of pressure to get clean fabric prints and that pressure needs to go straight down - you need to be extra careful not to let the block slip, lest it smudge the image. You could try laying a wooden board down on the block before stepping on that if the print is large enough to require it. I've also seen some really ingenious ways of creating book binding/flower pressing style wooden vices on a budget to get the even pressure needed for a print, but this feels rather labor intensive and time consuming to me. Whatever the method, be patient and apply firm downward pressure.

Screw up, rejoice, have fun. If you end up needing any help trouble shooting specific problems as you experiment on fabric, feel free to send me another ask/pics and I'll try to help sus it out!!

#ask #asks #printmaking #linoleum printmaking #linocut #fabric printing

[theworldvsyoshiko]

Well, this newest camp is drawing to a close. I know I haven't said much about this one, but here's the thing: Long Night is an awful fucking garbage event if you are playing non-farming nomads. It's not so much 'challenging' as it is 'a borderline automatic game over.' You have no plants to forage. You can't graze your animals, which you're dependent on for moving from base to base. You can't make kibble for the animals unless you have plants to make it with, and if you had plants you wouldn't be in this mess. You can get food for your colonists by hunting, but meat won't last long when you're on the move... unless you make it into pemmican or packaged survival meals, which you need plants for.

If there was a geothermal plant on this map, I would have seriously considered setting up a sun lamp just so some small area would be able to grow grass.

So yeah, this camp has mostly been a long tedious slog to keep all the animals alive, with a side of too many raids. On the upside, the kids have... not amazing gear or anything, but they're not going into combat with hand-me-down clothes and garbage weapons anymore.

Since Lewis hit 13, this seems like a good time for an overview of the current state.

Overall

Thanks to the fucking Long Night, the kids have plenty of food, but less than they had when they left the last camp. This was another great climate, so it would've been a good place to stock up before moving on, but instead the supplies have been slowly evaporating. Still, the ship's actually not parked that far north. It'll be sub-tropical or temperate climates the whole way, so the biggest hazard food-wise is going to be areas where it's too dry to grow much.

Not a lot of trade goods left, but with 10k silver saved up, trading goods is kinda optional anyway. They can just buy shit with cash. Now if only anywhere had shit to buy. They'll be making another round of shopping trips on the way out of this area, so here's hoping. This isn't their last chance to buy new gear, but there are only a few opportunities past here. I could have them linger in this area for however long it takes to find quality gear, but that would be 1) boring and 2) probably overkill.

While the ship is expensive, these ruin maps are pretty expensive, too. Dev mode informs me that the current map, in fact, would currently get raids of 950 raid points. The ship shouldn't be too much worse than that--if the kids dump a lot of their unneeded possessions and there aren't fancy ruins around the ship, the ship raids could go as low as 500. So, the fights they're having right now might actually be pretty representative of what they'll need to be capable of handling.

That's all banking on nothing bumping the raid point level a lot higher on that map, though.

I haven't kept things to three pawns for any strong reason. Good candidates have just been hard to find. As Lewis showed, preteens aren't a good fit for this lifestyle. Hussars and Wasters are automatically disqualified, because they're just going to die to a lack of psychoid. I've also only been looking for recruits who are younger than Umeko, which limits it further, and thanks to the nomadic lifestyle, prisoners are only a great option if they capture one early enough to recruit them before they have to pack up camp.

So, just the three kids for now.

Umeko Keith

Now she's great at fighting and construction, the two main things she does. Construction is the big one, really--it's not a full-time job in most colonies, but this group has to build a new base every 20-30 days. She's also the group's de facto crafter, but... crafting isn't quite as important here. Researching something like gunsmithing would be a long-term project. The only things to craft are trade goods and clothes, really. Fortunately, the herd of alpacas and all the hunting for meat means that she has an unlimited supply of leather and wool.

She's got an archotech arm, a bionic leg, and a sterilizing stomach. The sterilizing stomach was an instant buy when I saw it. Umeko and Choco are both good at cooking, so food poisoning is rare, but... the last time it happened, it was an outright existential threat. When you only have three people, two of them being nearly downed by illness is an absolute disaster if anything actually dangerous happens.

Umeko likes both of her companions a lot. This might be the most tight-knit group I've ever had. Umeko and Lewis are pretty much always at 100 relationship in both directions.

Choco, though... Umeko has like a near-paralyzing crush on her. Choco, on the other hand, is straight. Way Better Romance (I think? I don't believe this is core, and I'm not sure what else would do this) seems to make it so sexualities aren't absolute, so while Choco is straight, she's like... an 0.4 on the Kinsey scale. She can conceive of a circumstance in which she might possibly have a relationship with another girl, and thus has like a 1.4% chance of agreeing to romantic things with Umeko. That's good enough for Umeko. She asks Choco on a date at basically every opportunity, and gets politely shot down every single time.

At this point, Umeko's wearing trooper armor and a flak helmet, with a sniper rifle and carbine. Since the group usually doesn't have good defenses set up, having her snipe enemies on the edge of a pack before they attack the base has been vital to continued survival.

Curca Choco

Choco's taken over cooking duties, and she's the group's default medic. She's also pretty good at killing, and psychopath + masochist is admittedly a really nice combo for that. She doesn't mind hauling the bodies away, and if she gets hurt in combat that only makes her happier.

She also doesn't mind needless killing or violence. I have a policy that when somebody needs to, say, run outside and spray bullets at the cavemen next door until they stop trying to hunt the alpacas for dinner, that's Choco's job. If a bullet goes through one of their eye sockets, she can drag the body off and it's no big deal. Umeko doesn't need to know the dark price of her alpacas' continued safety.

That's true friendship, right there.

With double passion in shooting, I've been setting her up as the main general combatant, so Choco's got recon (!!) armor, a semi-automatic rifle, an assault rifle, and an SMG.

And a... look, the group only had two flak helmets. So instead, Choco wears the next-best head protection we've got.

A hyperweave bowler hat.

Lewis McLaughlin

For somebody who's been around since he was 4, Lewis's general setup is just sad. He could've easily had 5+ passions in a normal colony, but the nomad lifestyle's hard on a kid. Still, he's good at plants + animals, aka the skills that let them eat, he can shoot well, and he'll be the group's head researcher soon. Plus, with Iron Stomach, two out of the three pawns are immune to food poisoning.

Lewis likes everybody! Choco is 100% neutral on him.

He's got the least impressive combat loadout, with a flak jacket and helmet, a bolt action rifle, and Umeko's starting combat handgun. Good guns have been in short supply.

#the world vs. umeko

[itsnothingofinterest]

Do you think that it's kind of funny sometimes that some people justify the heroes actions and their whole deal basically, by saying how desperate and final the situation is?

As if AFO the demon lord wasn't getting clowned on almost every chapter by B tier/formerly A tier heroes and a bunch of teenagers, even before Machia arrived?

Even if he's not really losing exactly, at the rate he's rewinding, even if he left the battle right now he'd probably be toddler AFO before getting near where shigaraki and deku are. 😆

We're told the stakes are high by the heroes (while they don't even acknowledge that the things they're doing are a little sketchy) but it honestly feels like the story itself is showing us the opposite, do you think?

Exactly. I don't understand how people haven't gotten yet how AFO is a loser.

For all the numerous advantages the heroes have from every angle, I keep hearing people acting like this war is still close because AFO is still a danger, or saying "oh but they had to brainwash prisoners because AFO is so deadly." AFO is so smart, and unpredictable, and also Madara/Aizen levels of unbeatably powerful you know.

The same AFO that abandoned 2 armies to send a handful of assassins after Deku one-at-a-time, and then when he got caught in a trap, warped all that was left of Tomura's army into that trap so they could get jumped together. A Trap he fell for because all Might & his other enemies from over the years find him very predictable, same reason they also met with his attacks on Jaku & Central Hospital. And within that trap he is getting his ass beat so bad, he may have already lost as you've pointed out. Because sure, he's strong enough to beat anyone not on All Might's level in a 1v1. He could beat Hawks, Endeavor, Tokoyami, or Isana. But all of them? Plus a hundred heroes more still? Nah, taking away Machia's bodily autonomy was overkill.

The only way AFO seems smart anymore is that he knows to rely on the abilities and hearts of villains more capable than him like Spinner, Toga, & Shigaraki to do all the hard parts for him. And boy are they carrying this war far more than the "danger" AFO presents.

Though the fact he still treats them like pawns means that doesn't work out for him in particular much either.

Last note but can we take a brief moment to mention his paradoxical plan to have Tomura's will take OFA, because his will wasn't strong enough for that, but then he expected to overpower Tomura's will? How did he think that would work? I swear, I know I like to rag on him as a character and do think most of his faults are intentional, but this in particular feels like a way in which his writing itself has faltered since his introduction. Flanderized him into the most diabolical moron ever.

Once again, AFO is a loser.

#ask & reply #bnha #all for one #shigaraki tomura #toga himiko #spinner #gigantomachia #paranormal liberation front #PLF #midoriya izuku #one for all #tokoyami fumigake #hitoshi shinsou #endeavor #hawks #isana #bnha 383

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

I'm a bit surprised how many people are against the UK billboard! I did donate, but I never expected this billboard to have the same effect or visibility as the Times Square one... And of course, I also don't expect it to have real impact on whether we get picked up or not. I thought we might get a few news articles about it in the UK and a morale boost from it.

I understand the concerns about the fundraiser transparency, of course. I don't know how other fandoms have done these fundraisers, whether they've been better at organizing them... There's certainly a lot to learn!

I've seen some people suggest that we shouldn't buy another billboard because... we already had one? I was just reading about the Wynonna Earp campaign and apparently they bought over 250 billboards between s3 and s4 when the show ran out of funding (I also found a Twitter thread with pics of 100 Times Square billboards they bought). If they had that many, then how is 2 billboards for OFMD overkill?

This fandom gets hate for the campaign no matter what we do, even for just tweeting about the show... Isn't visibility exactly what our campaign needs, though? Are we going to tone down the campaign just so we don't get harassed? I don't really see the point in trying to protect the fandom, when the only way to really do that is to completely shut up about the show. And I certainly won't be shutting up about it :D

Anyway. These are just my thoughts on the subject. I'm very curious to see the new billboard! We'll probably learn a lot from it, from how it affects the fandom and how the press reacts to it (if they do)... And of course, how DJ reacts to it.

OMG IM SO SORRY ANON! Yesterday blew up and I never got a chance to get back to you!

I'm with you-- I'm sure there is always something more to learn! I had read the transparency policy a few times right before it was announced (cause I was asked to put it up on my repository), and it seemed like it was pretty straight forward-- but obviously some things needed to be clarified! From what I've seen on the Save OFMD Crew Discord since then, they're working on taking feedback and are going to be updating it to make it more clear.

I also saw that there was a vote going on about leaving the website the same, and I think that passed, but dont quote me on that.

HOLLLY SHIT 250 billboards!? WOW. Well I'm glad they found some funding, jeez! And hey-- it worked right? I think they got their renewal, or at least they're getting a finale.

I respect your thoughts on the subject and I really apreciate you reaching out and expressing them! It's good to hear multiple points of view on it. I definitely agree that there's always going to be someone mad about the fandom. It's just hard I think for our friends who have been around and probably have PTSD from all the hate by this point. I think that means we, the folks still able to do it, should be the front liners on all this and help fight that hate back.

I offer this freely-- if I have the time, and you are running into problems with hate inside the fandom, hit me up. I enjoy being a polite menace and talking through things with people. I got my degree in International Studies/Relations so I have a lot of experience with talking through things-- and I'm more than happy to help if I can!

I am excited to see what happens with the billboard, come good or bad. Thanks anon for writing in, and so sorry again for the delay!

Sending love <3

#ofmd #our flag means death #billboard #hoist the ads #asks anon #asks

[lilac-udon]

oh no I’m clowning myself again

As a basil defender

Most people stand w sunny and how often I see online is “basil ruins Sunny’s life ” . Would argue sunny ruined his life unintentionally, and basil actively chose to jump into the water with him. I can imagine basil never think that far into the consequences of his actions but the first instinct is to help Sunny. I can’t understand why basil did what he did ,and for me I do felt it’s overkill. My explanation is the writer needs it to be this extreme to connect the plot(and shock value . If sunny and mari are both basils friends, I cannot think of why he would throw Mari into the bus like that(I’m saying, thinking mari is already dead, need to save Sunny, but not in the point or any idea of, saving mari. He see Sunny action , but on the other hand he accepts mari is dead already too quickly in my taste)(I mean I don’t understand basil a lot a lot, I just don’t make sense but also he probably get push to do something because he think he is the only one to rely on when Sunny is suffering at that moment,add the point of he never really have parents supervise him, I guess that add a possibility of him not seeking others (parental figure) help but trying to fix stuff on its own. I have theory of he mostly solve stuff on his own, and no one helps or guides him, and he might be the one taking care of his grandma more than his grandma taking care of him

(((no , I will tell u this, a lot of people don’t like to think about any reason for basil bc they “hate basil” . I read other ship involving sunny and see how many write basil should get hate by his actions))))(((not that u can’t hate a character but , write it from another character lens(besides hero), ok cool?) (ah I know I ask too much, cute ship fluff no canon involved because it’s too much sure whatever)

I want to point out how much he valued to “help ”Sunny in that moment than anything else. Even it’s a very very awful idea. But I also want to say, as passive as Sunny is, didn’t he also ruined basil life. And the lack of people see it this way just annoys me, what did you mean basil deserved it, where if basil never met sunny he could at least had a normal childhood ; but for Sunny , sunny still needs to face the reality of mari is gone, wether or not basil is there to help him “cover up ”?

I always see both of them are in the wrong, even though so many people see them as cute little meow meows , nooo . Especially sunny, sunny is passive, but he is not entirely blank(I don’t know how to explain but I always use “cute” to explain?) this is more of my taste I guess, but I really like to put Omori characters into sunny as well, I see omori as what he is thinking, sunny just has the issue to showing all those thoughts he have. They are good kids but sunny has this attitude (read Omori note) removing it from him making him so cute and eepy as soft is just not how I imagine sunny I guess; ; ( where is his dark thoughts and edginess?

Basil being overall kind ? Huh, there is also this very weird thing of Basil literally shut off himself to only interact with sunny a tiny bit. After the incident he cut off from most of his friends. I think I don’t know how to think about him because there is too little information then from Omori point of view of dream basil (I can believe omocat probably don’t know too or probably very simple but I or the fandom over complicated him) I just always felt he do favor sunny, but that also can be explained he doesn’t know what to do and can only open with sunny because sunny literally causes them both in the dumpster. Or can think as he IS really this kind, waiting for sunny to do something than just snitching sunny, you know if he hate sunny or anything, he can twist the story or just tell it before sunny think through his trauma but he didn’t

Also to point out, sunny at the end of the game did somehow get a conclusion of his thoughts but not basil, just pointing out, we don’t know how he feels, he probably has unresolved trauma +the guilt of hurting sunny, also we are not sure if he is ok sunny just spell the beans like that, he might just want to talk with sunny but haven’t prepared to share it w his friends yet so yeah, I hope they are on the same page (someone reminded me that his something disappeared , so they are both fine)

Add

So sunny eye, I always see it as an apology of ruining basils life, but most people think it’s too much

#my internet cut off and I forgot what I was typing #internet tell me no more hate speech

[ravixen]

can i request for first sleepover (if not done yet) with seungcheol, jeonghan, woozi, wonwoo, mingyu

or something teasing/fun 😆

svt + bestie's first sleepover

➔ reaction || requested || bestfriends!au || platonic!au

➔ warnings: none || 832 words ➔ notes: fluff ; the context wasn't specified, so i decided to make this a best friends / platonic for the shenanigans, but honestly, it can be read romantically, too. there's just nothing explicitly romantic. the prompt was fun to write! if you liked this, pls reblog!!

SEUNGCHEOL: honestly, he's probably the best sleepover host. he wants your first one to be perfect, so he's got games, movies, take out menus, crafts, and enough blankets to suffocate. he lets you choose the schedule, which might be a mistake because you come over in the afternoon and he's lost track of how many bad movies you've put on. still, it's nice to chill on his couch, eat good food, and laugh at the tv without having to worry about the time. when it gets late, you both set up a cozy area in front of his couch and fight over what's an appropriate amount of pillows because apparently anything more than two is overkill, but you couldn't disagree more. you end up hoarding every pillow he owns except one, which you graciously allow him to have, and wake up with your blanket kicked off. there may be a crick in your neck, but this was fun. 10/10 would do again.

JEONGHAN: technically, it's a sleepover with just you two, but it feels like you're having one with his entire group because he has the great idea to start the night with prank calls. using his number is out of the question; the boys already have it saved. yours? some of them have it, but most of them don't and you doubt anyone's familiar enough with your number to recognize it. it takes several unanswered calls for jeonghan to realize that they've been trained to screen incoming calls and not pick up new numbers, and your response to his disarming smile is an unimpressed deadpan. so he does a group facetime call from his phone to complain about his friends being no fun and not playing along, and seungcheol rolls his eyes before telling you both to have fun and hanging up. you play a lot of games with penalties, like the 'tell me' one he did for the 1min7sec challenge.

WONWOO: you are not sleeping until the sun comes up, i hope you know that. the plan was to get into bed at a reasonable time, but then you show him a horror game playthrough on youtube that gets his attention and he downloads the game immediately. you're content to watch over his shoulder and backseat game...until he finds out that there's a multiplayer mode, and you're dragged into playing, too. it's rather scary; you keep jumping every few seconds, and your skin is crawling from the creepy music and heavy tension. you want to take a break, but even if you could put down the controller, you don't think you can fall asleep — wonwoo had to accompany you to the bathroom when you couldn't hold it anymore lol. the birds are chirping outside as you both down your nth cup of soda. the actual sleeping is from sunrise to the middle of the afternoon when you're too hungry to stay on the couch.

JIHOON: i feel like it takes a long time to convince him to have a sleepover. in fact, this only happens because it's storming too hard to safely get home, so you've both resigned to the fact that neither of you are going anywhere. he settles with the idea pretty quickly, offering you some of his clothes to wear and getting a new toothbrush from the cabinet. he suggests catching up on tv to pass the time, but then the lights flicker, and the only thing worse than losing power is losing power in the middle of a show you're invested it. so he brings out the guitar and his battery-operated keyboard (or whatever instrument he happens to have in his home studio), and you have a jam session, playing familiar songs and improvising once one of you had an idea. once you get tired, he offers you the bed while he takes the couch, but you can't fall asleep, so you end up sleeping in the living room, too.

MINGYU: you asked him to order pizza because you'd be arriving late and hungry, and guess what he forgets to do...order the pizza. honestly, you shouldn't be surprised — it's pretty much on brand for him. now you both have to drive to the pizza shop because he doesn't want to go alone. also, he forgot to get snacks. it's even later by the time you get to his place and lay out the food, but once you finally eat, you're a lot less grumpy. he doesn't know that, though, so he's walking around the different rooms, pulling out your favorite pillows and blankets and movies and games in an attempt to appease you. it's sweet, but you're watching with bated breath as he nearly drops his pizza. not once, but twice. because he's mingyu, he eventually drops something: saucy wings on his new rug, and the way his head whips to you in horror has you doubled over cackling. you spend more time cleaning up than anything, but at least you ate good.

#caratwritersclub #ficscafe #thesvttown #a&mlibrary #seventeen scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #s.coups scenarios #jeonghan scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios #mingyu scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #g: svt #m: seungcheol #m: jeonghan #m: wonwoo #m: jihoon #m: mingyu #t: reaction #s: request #anonymous #ravixen #platonicau #bestfriendsau

[thoroughlymodernminutia]

A Wisp of Smoke - Chapter 1 (Mike Duarte x F!Reader)

Summary: An unconventional member joins the Bronx Gang Unit.

Word Count: 3364

Content Warning: This is mildly canonical but like not really, so if that bothers you, then I’d skip. Some physical description - gave hte reader some gray hair cause I'm old and I want to represent some old people lol. Edit that out of your mind if you need to. Foul language (if that bothers you?), Gang talk, coworkers who don’t like each other, this part I don’t think has anything that would be triggering, but if you feel differently I can update the warnings.

A/N: When I tell you that I started writing this in October…it means exactly that. This has morphed into something different than I was expecting and I imagine I will have to scrap some stuff I have written once the next episode airs, so this is EVOLVING. Who even knows what this will be about by the time it’s finished. God help me. If there are typos, I apologize - I proof read this a few times and i'm sure somewhere there is something wrong

UM, Minors probably shouldn’t read this but I’m not your mother.

—-

The thing about the subway is it takes time to understand the quirks—the nuances—of the subway lines you take. The majority of your time is taking one line to and from work if you’re lucky. You’ve been taking one train line for so long, you’re at 90% accuracy of predicting when something is about to go wrong. You like the routine of it—knowing if you get to the platform right at 8:01 AM you’ll only have to wait a minute before the train comes and you’ll get to work early. It’s an art and a science, but it takes practice. It’s why taking a job so far out of your usual subway line is annoying; you have to learn it all over again. It’s made even worse by having to switch to another line, if something goes wrong on that first leg of the commute, you’re fucked for the rest of it.

And today, you feel like you’re fucked. You leave your apartment like a parent leaving for the airport; panicking about the time and trying to make sure you have everything. You feel smug catching the subway right when it pulls into the platform and getting in a nearly empty subway car. The smugness fades when you transfer to another train that happily sits between stations for 30 minutes and then decides to switch to the express track. It’s not express for you though, of course. It puts you a good mile away from where you need to be, instead of the five blocks you planned for. The extra distance isn’t an issue, for once you might show up on time without having to walk around the block ten times. It is, however, unseasonably warm for February and now your coat is overkill. You stop and take it off, juggling your bag from hand to hand as you remove it. It’s insane, not even being able to feel cold in February in New York. 

While you walk the unfamiliar sidewalks of the South Bronx you think about how this is your brother-in-law Tommy’s doing. You don’t even know how or why he’s sending you up to the Bronx as some kind of backfill in the Gang Unit. You aren’t a cop, so you have no idea why they’d want you up there. You feel like it’s going to look pretty strange, a senior analyst for the NYPD in the Intelligence Bureau, joining the Gang Unit. Gangs in the Bronx aren’t really on your radar; the majority of your time is spent juggling mostly empty threats against NYC. Analyzing the message boards and social media where people spew garbage 24/7. It’s weird to think that maybe this will be a break from that. 

You do know a little about Duarte’s reputation. For as much as Tommy thinks gossiping is a female trait he certainly loves to partake in it. You heard all about the drama between him and Captain Benson–Tommy was almost gleeful when recounting it. You get the impression that like most men in the NYPD Duarte is only happy when he gets his way. You could be completely wrong, it’s not like Tommy is the most reliable narrator. 

—-

The precinct looks different than you thought it would. You had imagined something along the lines of a bland box with windows, but this is a beautiful limestone building. Some of the stone work looks like it belongs in an Italian palazzo in the 16th century. The inside reminds you of an old library with the heavy wood furniture and dim lighting. It’s really quite something—all these disappearing architectural gems throughout all the boroughs. As you walk towards the Desk Sergeant you wonder how much longer it will be around before the city turns it into a glassbox citing progress in the neighborhood. 

When you ask where you can find Captain Duarte you realize the charm seems to end with the interior and doesn’t really extend to the people. She looks like you’ve just ruined her day by speaking to her. She nods her head towards the stairs and says it’s the third floor. You thank her, thinking maybe that’s her problem, no one ever sounds grateful for her assistance. Halfway up the stairs you do consider turning around and walking right back down and out of the building. You suppress the urge; dealing with Tommy in the aftermath of flaking would probably be worse than whatever fresh hell is waiting for you a few flights up.

You duck into the bathroom when you get to the third floor and are relieved when you find it empty. You set your bag on the edge of the sink, and drape your coat over a stall door. You turn back to the mirror and give yourself a once over. You were going for an overall look of extreme competence so you went with all black. Black silk button down, black skinny jeans, black thick soled loafers. You think maybe you look like you’re about to attend a funeral—probably your own. You hike up your jeans a little and try to ignore how much your feet hurt. You look back up to your face in the mirror to check your makeup. It still looks good; your eyeliner is intact and hopefully giving the impression that you’re precise, detail oriented. Your hair looks fine, the gray pieces framing your face, glossy under the overhead lights. You used to hate that you started going gray fairly young; you must have spent thousands covering it up over the years. At some point you stopped caring and just let it be. It came with a fun bonus, men you worked with suddenly thought you were old and left you alone. You give yourself one last once over before washing your hands. As you grab your things and head out of the bathroom you run through the little information you have like you’re cramming for a test. 

An officer shows you to Captain Duarte’s office and tells you that you can wait inside, that he doesn’t know when he’ll be back. It’s very you to think that you’re going to be late to something and be the person that ends up waiting. When the officer leaves you put your bag on one of the chairs and drape your coat over the back. His desk is neat and you don’t see much in the way of personal effects on it. There’s a few books and you’re tempted to go to the other side of his desk to get a better look, but restrain yourself knowing the moment you do, he will come walking in. You sit down in one of the chairs and wait. 

—-  

As Duarte approaches his office he can see you sitting inside. He had put your arrival out of his mind once McGrath had told him and seeing you now throws him off for a moment. He should be prepared, he only knows what McGrath told him. Although, he’s sure that since McGrath is the one who sent you here, the information isn’t reliable. When you get up and introduce yourself, his initial impression is that you’re prissy. The way your coat is folded over the back of one of the chairs. How you’re now clasping your hands in front of you. Your outfit, a far cry from the recently departed, hoodie-clad Muncy. He can’t tell what he hates more right now, the way you look or that you were foisted on him by McGrath. 

Duarte closes the door to his office and turns back to face you.

“I don’t really know what you’re doing here. You have no gang—no actual police experience. I’d wager to say you’ve never used a gun. I don’t care about your intelligence experience. Frankly, you could single handedly bring down all gang activity in this city and it wouldn’t matter to me. If you think whatever relationship you have with McGrath is going to help you here, you’re wrong.”

It’s a lot all at once and you try to ignore the way he says ‘relationship’. As if you slept with Tommy to get you a job with the Gang Unit. If you’re going to sleep your way to a new job in the NYPD, it wouldn’t be for a mostly lateral position all the way in the Bronx. You can feel yourself about to do that thing where you match the energy that’s being directed your way. It’s great when the person you’re dealing with isn’t an asshole. But if they’re looking to take the low road, well you own a home there.

“I’m sorry, I must have blacked out. I think I missed a part where you said something like ‘I’m glad to have you on the team.’” 

The look on his face tells you he was expecting you to be more yielding in your response. Maybe eight or ten years ago you would have been. You’re tired of minimizing yourself to make men in the NYPD feel better.

“If I felt that way, I would have said it. This is real shit we deal with, no one here has time to babysit you.”

“Well, I’ll just have to cut the crust off my own sandwich then, won’t I?” You try to keep your voice calm. “Look, I’m good at my job and whatever it is I’m supposed to do here, I’ll be good at that too.”

Duarte grabs a box off of his desk and thrusts it at you. 

“I think you’re going to find your confidence is misplaced.”

You balance the box on your hip as you pick up your coat and bag from the chair. You consider not saying anything else, but when you get to the door you turn around and smile.

“I just have to say, this has just been so pleasant. Really looking forward to working with you.”

He huffs in your general direction before turning back to his desk. You know he’s setting you up for failure—not giving you a single inch already. He’s probably looking forward to watching you spin your wheels and flame out. If there’s anyone that can dig their heels in it’s you, so if he is looking for some kind of low level fight you’re ready.

—-

You’re unpacking the box at your desk when you see a friendly face standing at the desk across from yours. It could be Satan smiling at you at this point and you’d take it. You both introduce yourselves as he sits down.

“Should I call you Jordan or Williams? I know how much everyone in the NYPD loves going by their last name.” 

“Ha! True. Honestly, either is fine.”

You pull another stack of files and a hard drive out the box and look at your computer for the time. When you see it’s barely 10AM you know it’s going to be a long rest of the day. 

“Well, Jordan, can I ask you something?”

“Let me guess, your face is giving me, is he always like that?”

“Ha, yes that is the question.”

Jordan lets out a sigh, “It depends. He’s still pissed at McGrath I think. After he let Captain Benson snatch Muncy from us. And then Benson gets attacked, I don’t know, there’s a lot going on.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s fucked up, but he’s probably worried McGrath sent you up here as a spy or something.”

“What if he did?”

Jordan leans back in his chair and scans your face trying to determine if you’re telling the truth.

“Did he?”

You give Jordan a wry smile.

“No. But it will be fun letting Captain Duarte think so.”

You can’t help but laugh because it’s so dumb; that someone would think you were sent up here to spy. It seems like something Tommy would do—send someone up here to unknowingly spy for him. Tommy is an idiot, but you’re not. 

Jordan chuckles as he shakes his head.

“I think it’s going to be good having you around.”

You both chat a little more and you’re able to get from him what you couldn’t from Duarte; what he’s actually looking for. You already had a feeling that he wanted to treat gangs like terrorist groups and your theory proves true. It also proves true that he wanted someone with your experience but who was also a detective. He must think Tommy short-changed him with you so he could have a person on the inside. At least now you have a clearer picture of why he hates you. You’d probably hate you too if you were in Duarte’s shoes.

You spend the rest of the morning going through everything Duarte gave you. It’s strange trying to apply everything you know to a completely new set of circumstances. You can already feel some doubt creeping in. Yes you’re good at your job—but this is not that. You think that Duarte probably views you as some interloper trying to use this as some kind of play to get ahead. Take credit for fixing a problem and leave behind other growing problems. It’s only partially true; you don’t care about taking credit for things but you are an interloper. It’s not like this is really your community; you don’t live in areas impacted by gang violence. You don’t have the depth and breadth of knowledge on the specific systemic issues that allow this type of thing to flourish. With counter-terrorism it always seems like a much broader issue where the violence impacts many, where gang violence only affects the few. It’s something that you feel like you’re going to be unpacking for as long as you’re here. 

Duarte and Williams leave early in the afternoon. You don’t know if you were expecting Duarte to tell you what’s going on, but he doesn’t. He just gives you an annoyed look as he passes by your desk and you give him a tight lipped smile. You think back to this morning and wish you would have taken the high road and acquiesced to his running commentary of your lack of abilities. It’s the ‘relationship’ jab that’s bothering you the most for some reason—probably because it was so unnecessary. You wish you were the type of person that could just move on from comments like that but you’re not; it’s probably why your last relationship ended. So you know you’re going to hold on to that relationship comment much longer than necessary. 

With Duarte gone you feel like you can finally relax; your shoulders drop and you take a few quiet breaths. You plug in the hard drive to your laptop and try to figure out where to start. When you first started with the bureau in counter-terrorism, it was overwhelming, but you quickly found your footing. It was a lot of research and developing counterintelligence reports. It was your job to plan, research, develop, and communicate in-depth analysis of targets, networks, and issues to key leaders in the department. You know how to plan and implement strategies based on a combination of information and gut feeling. At least here you won’t be starting entirely from scratch. You have your experience—and while this is a different set of circumstances you know what’s needed. You settle in and start familiarizing yourself with all the information you have. 

You want to memorize the faces, the names, everything about the people in the files and computer in front of you. You know right now the focus seems to be BX9, but you also know as these groups collapse they splinter off or join existing gangs. You work on putting something together that you can leave for Duarte. The thought crosses your mind that if he doesn’t expect anything of you then why bother, but you have enough self respect to not do that.

—-

He sees you in his office as he comes into the squad room. He can see through the open blinds that you’re standing behind his desk, looking out of the window towards the street. He was hoping you’d be gone and that he wouldn’t have to deal with you again today. He just wants some fucking peace.

“Do you need something?” Duarte’s voice is quiet as he enters his office but he sees you jump a little in place at the sound of it. As you turn around and see it’s him you half smile. He recognizes it as the kind of smile that says you didn’t want to see him either. He thinks for a moment how this could have gone differently. How he could have been given someone qualified—a real detective. He wouldn’t have this generalized annoyance he’s been feeling since this morning.

“No, sorry. Was just leaving something on your desk.” 

You brush past him as you say it and it breaks him from his train of thought. He watches you grab your things from your desk and then turn to leave. He sees you stop as Williams comes back to his desk. He watches as you say something to Williams but it’s not loud enough for him to hear. Whatever it was it must have been funny because Williams laughs. Duarte calls him into his office and he hears you say goodnight as you’re walking out of the squad room. 

“You need something, Cap?” 

“I want you to keep an eye on her.” 

“Yeah, of course.”

“I need to know if she’s—”

Williams cuts him off and shakes his head.

“I don’t think she’s like that if that’s what you’re getting at. I like her.”

“Good for you. Just do what I ask.”

“Aye, aye Cap.” 

Williams turns to leave and Duarte closes the office door behind him. He goes over to his desk and opens the bottom drawer and pulls out a bottle of bourbon and a glass. It’s incredible how fucking exhausted he is every day. Every day since the subway attack in Manhattan has steadily been draining him. And then Benson getting attacked and her inserting herself into the investigation; he feels like everyone is coming at him from all sides. He feels like a tire slowly losing air. He uncorks the bottle and pours himself a drink and downs it before sitting in his chair. 

He mulls over the decision the DA’s office made every single day. On the surface he understood the reasoning behind it. But deeper, he felt it was a mistake, a decision made for optics. A lie that Manhattan has rid itself of BX9. That only the poor fucks in the Bronx have to deal with them from now on. Well that went out the fucking window once Benson got kicked in the ribs. If she had listened to him instead of only thinking about her case it would be a different story. Instead he has two dead kids in Rikers and he’s hunting for more. He pours himself another drink while he tries to ignore the pressure building in his chest. He’s grateful for the nearly empty floor, the quiet.

He leans in his chair and notices a manilla folder on his desk; it has a post-it with his name on it scrawled in unfamiliar handwriting. Maybe you’re already resigning, it wouldn’t surprise him. He knows he wasn’t very welcoming. He has no desire, no energy to be—this job is all consuming. He grabs the file folder and opens it. Inside he sees you’ve put together a briefing based on all the information you went through. You seem to have analyzed what you view as gaps in the systems that are being used to monitor gang activity currently. You’ve even outlined the resources you’ll need. It’s not even entirely focused on BX9–you included other gangs in your briefing, gangs that weren’t included in the information he gave you. He feels a little sting of something reading through everything. He can’t tell if he’s impressed or irritated that you put this much together in a day. He realizes that he knows almost nothing about you, having put in almost no effort to find out. He closes the folder and starts making some calls. He wasn’t expecting so much from you on your first day.

#mike duarte x you #mike duarte x female reader #captain mike duarte x female reader #a wisp of smoke