#if you have time to think you have time to mistrust your judgement and second guess yourself

[bluespring864]

Welcome to another installment of tennis analysis with Daniil Medvedev

This time: How an overthinker returns serve

[asked about his amazing returns on 230km/h + serves]

“The thing is that, in a way… well. It’s much tougher to return a serve 230 than 190, but in a way, when it is 190, you kinda have small time to think ‘what do I do?’ Here, you don’t have any time, so it’s pure reflexes and sometimes it makes life even easier, because, as I say, you don’t think much. If you don’t return it, you are not even disappointed. Whenever there were some second serves and I missed it, I was disappointed, so [shrugs and smiles]”

[sky-berrie]

How would the batboys react to a female SO with Paranoid Personality Disorder?

Hi there!

Thanks so much for the ask. I hope this is okay :)

-Sky

Bruce

As a person living with paranoid personality disorder, you might be terrified that people are out to harm you. Your place of residence, Gotham city, does nothing but exacerbate your paranoid thought patterns, since criminals run rampant through the streets. It’s hard to distinguish between paranoid thoughts and substantiated concerns. Is that sketchy person with the full face covering one of Black Mask’s False Face Society members sent to abduct you, or are they just a conscientious citizen taking extra precautions to avoid contracting or transmitting the COVID virus? Being in a state of constant fear prevents you from living your life to the fullest. Luckily, your S/O happens to be Batman in his free time.

Bruce eases your mind just with his presence. He’s probably the smartest, strongest, and most resourceful person you know and being with him makes you feel safe. Bruce is the kind of person who you’d blindly listen to during an emergency – if he told you to jump out of a burning plane, you’d do it without a second thought because he’s never let you down in the past and you’re confident that he never will in the future. If you’re feeling fearful in public, Bruce will grab your hand or put an arm around you securely and soothingly whisper in your ear that he’s right here and there’s nothing to worry about. Having paranoid thoughts means that it’s difficult to reason with you, so you probably aren’t convinced that there is no threat, but you do experience some relief from his soft touch and gentle words. He’ll ask if you want to leave and he’ll take you to your safe space. If you’re feeling fearful in private, Bruce will hold you close and rub your back to reduce your anxiety. If you’re by yourself and start to have those racing, panicked paranoid thoughts, you can always call Bruce. He’ll drop whatever he is doing and come take care of you.

Bruce will teach you self defense to help you feel more comfortable around people. He won’t arm you with any dangerous weapons because he doesn’t want an innocent person to get hurt if you get spooked. Bruce will ask if you want to move into the manor since it has strong security and comes with several vigilantes. If you would rather stay at your own place, Bruce will install a variety of safety systems to make you feel protected. He’ll even spend most nights at your place so you can sleep peacefully. Overall, Bruce is like your lifeline. He’ll know just what to do to help you through your difficult thoughts.

Dick

Dick is a social butterfly who’s had his fair share of romantic partners in the past so it’s natural for you to feel jealous when he spends time with other people. Dick will adamantly declare that he’s with you and only you. At first you might try to ignore the prickly feeling of jealousy because you don’t want to come off as a possessive S/O, but the clues accumulate and suggest that he’s cheating on you. For example, he’ll rarely spend the night with you. You’ll catch him sneaking into bed at ungodly hours of the morning. When confronted, he’ll make up an excuse that he just went to get a drink of water or use the bathroom. You’ll spot bruises scattered over his chest knowing you definitely did not leave those there. He’ll play it off as a gym injury.

When you raise your suspicions, Dick is hesitant to explain. You take this as confirmation of infidelity and you’re ready to walk out. At that point, he has no choice but to come clean about his secret identity as Nightwing. That sounds farfetched and you likely think he’s a pathological liar. Finally, Dick proves it to you and explains that he didn’t want you to be dragged into his dangerous nightlife. While you accept that as the truth, you’ll always wonder if he’s hiding more secrets. Furthermore, you’re probably pissed that he was gaslighting you. Dick will do everything he can to make it up to you. He’ll apologize profusely and in extravagant ways, be more transparent, and shower you with excessive love and affection. It might take a long time, but eventually Dick will worm his way back into your good graces.

It doesn’t take long for the green-eyed monster to rear its’ ugly head again. Now that you’re in the know, you’re hyperaware of the attractive vigilantes that Dick works with and it’s emotionally draining to be jealous all the time. You don’t want to be the type of person who tries to control their partner’s life, but when the suffering becomes too much to bear, you might ask him to stop seeing certain people. Dick will calmly assure you that there isn’t anything going on with any of his vigilante friends. If that doesn’t appease you, he’ll suggest that you hang out with the team and get to know them. He hopes that you’ll see that there aren’t any romantic feelings between them. Whatever you do, please don’t force him to choose between you and his hero life. It will tear him apart.

Jason

Trust is very important to Jason. He doesn’t trust many people as it is and needs a S/O who he can trust wholeheartedly and who will trust him in return. He believes that this relationship will fail if you don’t have confidence in each other. He’ll take it personally if you distrust him. Jason will get defensive and frustrated if you accuse him of being unfaithful, especially if you don’t have a shred of evidence to support your claims. He’ll be offended and deeply hurt that you think so negatively of him but once he’s had some time to cool off, he’ll be able to process everything more objectively. He’ll accept that you can’t control the way you feel. You’d explained it to him once that you do trust him, but there’s a separate voice in your head that tells you otherwise. Jason won’t give up on you though. He’ll come up with a proposition - he’ll agree to install a tracking app on his phone so you can monitor his whereabouts if you’ll promise to work on learning to trust him, whether it be via professional psychotherapy or reading self-help books.

On the other hand, if Jason is one of the only people you trust, he’ll be elated to know that you two have built such a strong connection. It’ll be easy to confide in him because he’ll gladly listen to your worried thoughts with no judgement. At first, he’ll reassure you that nothing bad is going to happen to you – he’s Red Hood and nobody is going to pull anything on you if they value their life. Eventually he’ll realize that trying to reason with you isn’t helpful so he’ll stick to active listening when you’re experiencing paranoid thoughts.

However, if Jason is fresh out of the pit and emotionally unstable, you two will probably bond over your mutual distrust and cynicism about the world. Although you and Jason will get along exceptionally well, it’s possible that your irrational thoughts may feed each other’s paranoia and exacerbate the feelings of mistrust and suspicion. If you find yourself unable to let things go, feel free to vent away when you’re with Jason. He is the king of holding grudges, so he’ll probably support you and even join in on trash talking that person with you when you’re angry. Learning to forgive and forget is something you and Jason can work on together. In a way, it brings you two closer together since you understand each other on a level that others can’t begin to comprehend.

Tim

Tim very compassionate and patient; however, he’s afraid of triggering you so he’s often walking on eggshells around you. He just wants to be the perfect supportive S/O for you and doesn’t want to mess up the relationship. His worst offense (in your eyes) is using ambiguous language that lends to multiple interpretations. For example, he might innocently compliment your clothes/hair/makeup and you might assume that he only likes you for your appearance or that he’s implying that you’re vain for wanting to look nice. The moment you shoot him daggers, he’s realized his mistake and starts to furiously backpedal. He tries to explain himself, but he usually ends up digging himself a deeper hole. Eventually, he gets better at expressing his thoughts carefully so that they can’t be misconstrued.

Tim diligently tries to learn your other triggers and how to help. When you’re stuck in a cycle of paranoid thoughts, Tim will get you to focus on what’s real instead of trying to make you see sense. He’ll help you relax by walking you through breathing exercises, playing soothing music, or whatever strategies you find helpful.

Tim isn’t proud of this, but he’s resorted to deceiving you when necessary. For instance, if you’re experiencing paranoid thought patterns and want to be alone, Tim will hesitantly leave, but he’ll probably secretly monitor you only because he’s worried about your safety. If you’re afraid that others are reading your mind, he might pretend that he invented an anti-mindreading helmet to ease your suspicions. He knows you would feel betrayed if you ever found out about his dishonesty, but he reasons that your safety and comfort are more important in the moment.

Damian

Arguments with Damian are brutal. No matter how insignificant the disagreement is, Damian refuses to back down when he believes he’s right. Paired with your own stubbornness and contentiousness, these quarrels generally result in an impasse. Eventually your anger subsides and the depression sinks in. You might assume that Damian doesn’t love you anymore and that fight was the end of your relationship. Maybe you start packing your belongings to move out right away. Damian comes up behind you and asks what you’re doing. When you tell him that you’re leaving because he doesn’t want you anymore, he’s instantly remorseful. He takes your bags out of your hands and proceeds to pull you in close as he tells you how much he loves you. He assures you that two people can disagree and still love each other.

Damian doesn’t want to argue with you and he certainly doesn’t want to see you upset so he’ll always excuse himself before the argument becomes too heated. He hopes that some time apart will allow you both to calm down and come to a compromise, but it’s never that simple. Most of the time, you’ll need a third-party mediator, like a therapist, to resolve your dispute. The act of seeking out a therapist will be a huge accomplishment for your relationship. Damian likes his privacy and doesn’t want someone else in his business and you might be afraid to share intimate information with a stranger in fear that it will be used against you. Nevertheless, you both want to make this relationship work, so you’ll continue to seek help.

Damian has a habit of being blunt. He doesn’t mean to criticize or insult you – in his mind, he is only stating the facts or his opinion for the purpose of helping you improve. Despite his goodhearted intentions, it’s easy for you to take his comments the wrong way and perceive it as a personal attack. If he sees that his remarks have upset you, he’ll acknowledge all the positive aspects of your performance. Still, you might cling to the disparaging comments and ignore the praise. Going forward, Damian will try to be more encouraging and constructive and will only express feedback if you invite him to do so.

[honestlyzenoouh]

So Hold Me Close

This came to me after i read this post, and my brain went “no, you do it because you have small legs and can’t keep up with your bf” and thus this was born.

Now also on AO3

*****

Neil is a little bewildered. He is not at all complaining about this new development in his relationship with Andrew, just a little confused. Andrew has gotten a little, how do you say it delicately; clingy, after they won the championship. The other foxes hasn’t commented on it yet, but they might not have noticed it. Neil has though. By god has Neil noticed it. Luckily, he doesn’t feel smothered by the clinginess, but it seems like he can’t be more than a couple feet away from Andrew now, before his eyebrow furrowed the smallest amount together. And if enough time passes with neither of them moving closer, Andrew shifts the slightest bit towards which ever direction Neil is in. 

Okay, the couple of feet is a bit of an overstatement, when in reality it’s 8 feet and 2 inches. Neil knows, he tested it. Kevin was looking on in severe judgement that day, what with Neil moving half an inch away from Andrew, who was sat gaming with Nicky, waiting a few seconds before glancing at his face to see his reaction. The pinch came at 8 feet even, and the shift came at the infamous 8 feet and two inches. 

And again, it’s not as if Neil is complaining. It’s always nice to be able to look around, and be able to immediately spot him. Safe even. But that is not what has gotten Neil confused, oh no, the closeness is just on observation. What Neil is having a hard time wrapping his head around is the fact that Andrew has gotten handsy.

But it’s not even the normal handsy he sees from other couple’s PDA. No, there is no hands on his hips, he isn’t casually touching his ass like Matt sometimes does to Dan, nor is he absentmindedly petting his hair like Allison did to Seth. No, he just. Wants to hold his hand. Or his arm. Or on bad days, his sweater sleeve. And Neil doesn’t get it. He doesn’t mind it, really he doesn’t! Andrew always asks first, or just straight up offers his hands to Neil, and Neil somehow always find himself saying yes and taking his hand, even though he doesn’t get his newfound clinginess. 

Neil would just have just put it down as a weird form of affection from Andrew. With both of their shitty childhood, general emotional constipation and mistrust of most physical touch, handholding was an acceptable first type of affection. That is, if it wasn’t for the pattern he noticed 3 weeks after the first incident of handholding.

Andrew doesn’t seem to need to hold his hand when they are staying somewhere. Like if they are in the locker room or in any of the foxes room, the 8 feet and 2 inches seems to be enough for Andrew’s clinginess. But whenever they are going somewhere, it literally doesn’t matter where, Andrew hand shoots out after 15 seconds of walking, and he only lets go when they have reached their destination. Sometimes that is. He has started to linger a little, and by now the other foxes has undoubtedly noticed. They still haven’t said anything, though it looks like Allison really wants to sometimes. And it’s not like she can corner Neil alone to get some answers that way, what with the 8 feet two inches.  

It is two weeks after the pattern revelation that Neil finally finds the courage to ask Andrew about it. Just because he doesn’t get it, doesn’t mean he dislikes holding hands with Andrew. He’s actually come to really like it, and what if Andrew stops if he points it out? But he needs answers now, and if Nicky’s few comments on the matter only resulted in scowls and grunts, Neil feels a bit reassured. So they are sitting on the roof, sharing a single cigarette between them, and looking out over the campus. Neil steels himself, gathers his last bit of bravery and opens his mouth. “Andrew?”

Andrew shifts his head towards Neil, indicating he’s listening, and Neil starts to play with his own fingers. A couple more seconds go by, and Neil thinks he has formulated his question harmlessly.

“Why can’t you be more than 8 feet and 2 inches away from me?” Andrew inhales his next lungful of smoke a bit to suddenly, and freezes for maybe two seconds before he exhales. “Riko.” Is all he answers. Neil mulls over his answer for a bit, but can’t find an explanation within it. “What?” he prompts confused.

Andrew exhales again, and Neil could see his arm flexing from the corner of his eyes. Whatever Andrew was about to say, wasn’t something he was happy having to share, but technically, it was his turn in their truths game, and it seemed Andrew knew that as well. 

“I was 8 feet and 2 inches away from you when Riko swung.” Now it was Neils turn to freeze. That admission floored Neil, not having excepted such a thought-out answer. Gearing up answer, or maybe getting Andrew to elaborate, he got cut off, because apparently Andrew wasn’t finished yet. He took yet another breath and continued, “Evermore I was not present for, and Binghamton I had you out of my sight for 5 seconds to check on Nicky and you were gone. But with 8 feet and 2 inches I could get to you.” It was quiet for what felt like hours afterwards, with Neil processing and Andrew quietly chain smoking. 

“Oh” Was Neil’s answer maybe 4 cigarettes later. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but he also wanted to acknowledged Andrews vulnerability. Andrew shrugged, and Neil finally looked over at him and saw how tense he was. Not really knowing how to make the situation better with words, Neil slowly reached his left hand towards the blond boy, offering the same kind of comfort Andrew has had lately.

Andrew looked from his hand, and up to his face so Neil offered him a small smile and wiggled his fingers a small bit. Andrew huffed at him, but took his hand and intertwined their fingers. With his hand in his, Neil remembered his initial question and kinda blurted it out,

“But what’s with the handholding then? I get the distance, I’m kind of a trouble magnet, but why hold my hand? That doesn’t seem necessary.” Andrew huffed out his version of a self deprecating laugh. “You are fast, and have longer legs than me.”

“So what? The handholding is just you making sure we are walking in the same tempo, and you don’t lose me in a crowd?” 

“Maybe not so stupid after all” At this point that is just flat out slander against Neil Josten.

*****

I have no clue how to end this, so I give you this! There you go, hope you like it. This is my first completed and posted fic

[ferret-not-microwave]

A small note to anyone who knows a COVID 19 patient. Or literally any patient. Or any person with a chronic or a disabling condition.

Please do not give unsolicited advice. You may think that you are doing the person a massive favour, but there's a huge chance that you aren't. There's a strong stench of moral judgement the moment you say something like "please keep monitoring your symptoms, please stay careful". There's a huge chance that the patient IS monitoring their symptoms very regularly, is hyper aware of their body and possibly very anxious already. It surprises me how advice-providers essentially think the patient to be extremely irresponsible and flippant about their own illness, without thinking once about said person.

When you say "be careful", or "please keep monitoring your symptoms, please have x,y,z food etc." you are implying that these people haven't done these things. For example, when I got COVID, I started getting trite instructions from at least a dozen people to drink fluids and eat proteins. Someone had even asked me whether I got tested for COVID 19 a whole week after I had tested positive and was halfway through my medicines.

It gets even worse when you send them bits of information about worse-case scenarios. Sick persons and their caregivers, if they have contacted a doctor, should be aware of what they should be doing, and what the state of things are. To send them information on how not doing a particular blood test on a particular day is essentially "missing the bus" and leading themselves to grave danger, particularly when their doctor has not prescribed the test, can trigger their anxiety very, very severely. I have had "well-meaning" people express doubts about me not undergoing a particular test according to a timeline, and, when I freaked out, calmly say "the doctor knows best idk", after the damage was done. Constantly scaring patients with the possibility of the worst-case scenario is a dick move, I believe. If you are really interested in a person's health, talk to their caregivers or their doctor. Also, please stop judging doctors if you aren't a doctor. Your doctor may be great, but that doesn't mean they are the only doctor worth their money. I don't mean pseudo doctors or quacks etc. I mean small nuances in application of mainstream medicine etc. You may suggest a name for a second opinion, that's about as far as you can go. The last thing you want is to unnecessarily trigger in patients a mistrust for their own doctor or caregivers.

Also, for fuck's sake stop asking them how they fell ill/became disabled etc. Many a time they don't know. It could be just an accident. Stop implying that they are guilty for what they have got.

Instead, just ask them how they are. Check on them with some distance. Ask them if they need anything, like groceries, medicines or other supplies. Help them if they or their caregivers fall in trouble. Offer your vehicle in case of emergency. Offer to talk to them, to distract them or simply hear them out. Help with advice only when you think that they absolutely do need it. You'd do a much bigger favour then.

[corner-stories]

little thief

Calem. Serena. Chespin.

Swords. Ale. Medieval Times.

2882 words.

(ao3.)

For once in his life, Calem — Squire to the esteemed Sir Wikstrom and a potential Knight-to-be — could not do his job.

In his right hand was a dagger, an ornate tool that was far too beautiful to be wielded by a bastard like him. His fingers were grasped around it so tightly that the wire-wrapped handle was pushing deep lines into his skin.

In his left hand was the creature who had been raiding the kitchens of Shabboneau Castle. It was barely a foot tall and had a brown body, its head was green and what appeared to be its ears looked rather spiky. Calem held it by the scruff of its neck while a blissful smile remained on its face, apparently unaware of what was going on around it. The cooks and servants called it a Chespin — in their eyes it was a vile little parasite that had snuck in from nature to feast on the Castle’s supply of cheese and grapes and oats. Once the head Chef caught the little vermin, he handed it to Sir Wikstrom’s Squire and told him to get rid of it like a good Knight-to-be would.

So there Calem stood, holding his Master’s dagger to the throat of a creature that was happily staring at him with the beadiest eyes he had ever seen.

Calem’s hand was shaking. His usual stoic facial expression was turning into a look of fear. His heart was beating fast like a warrior’s would before a battle. His breathing was exceedingly rough and uneven.

Moments passed and Calem came to a conclusion that would lead to the best outcome for him and the Chespin.

He sighed and put the dagger in the sheath on his belt. He then held the Chespin properly, letting it lean against his shoulder like it was a newborn babe. With a sigh, he walked out of one of the castle’s many many spare rooms and went into the hallway. As Calem weaved through the other servants and workers of Shabboneau Castle, the Chespin was wagging its tail in utter excitement.

As they walked, Calem asked the little thing if it had any idea on what was going on, as if he was speaking to a human and not the pester that had been raiding the kitchens of Shabboneau Castle.

…

…

…

Calem took Chespin to the castle gardens, where it could at least roam free amongst the flora and fauna and perhaps play with the other creatures who lived there. As nice as the place was, King AZ seldom spent time outdoors, much preferring the company of his Court or a pitcher full of wine.

Calem grabbed an apple from one of the trees and gave it to Chespin. Knowing that the fruits were not deemed fresh enough for those of Royal blood, he was sure that neither him nor Chespin would face punishment for such an act.

“This should tide you through the day,” Calem said as he held the apple to Chespin’s mouth. The creature eyed the fruit curiously, giving it a few cautionary sniffs before taking a nibble. After tasting the morsel, Chespin grinned and looked at the apple in its paws, happily chewing on it like an emperor would to a lavish feast.

Calem grinned. “Probably tastes a lot better than table scraps.”

As Chespin ate, the young Squire took the creature to the farthest end of the castle gardens. There he set the little thing down. Once on the ground, Chespin dropped the core from its paws and looked up at Calem with curiosity in its inky black eyes.

Calem gave Chespin a polite nod, then began to walk away. He only took about two steps before hearing the creature prodding after him. He was quick to turn around and hold his hand out.

“No, you can’t come back with me. My Master would never allow it. Now shoo!”

Chespin seemed saddened, as if its entire world had shattered right then and there. Calem could not ignore the way Chespin looked at him, but knowing his orders he guessed that it would be the safer thing for both of them if they went their separate ways.

So firmly, Calem turned around once more and walked back towards Shabboneau Castle, doing his best not to think of the rather adorable creature that had somehow grown fond of him.

…

…

…

With a Tourney coming up, Calem was hard at work helping his Master get prepared. Being one of Kalos’s most esteemed knights, Sir Wikstrom prided himself on his prowess as a warrior. He needed to be in fighting shape to compete with the region’s much younger Knights, so five days a week he gave Calem a blunted longsword and ordered him to fight back, asking that the Squire never go easy on him.

In terms of swordsmanship, Calem still had a long way to go. He was much better than he was a year ago, when Sir Wikstrom decided to have a mere stable boy act as his Squire. Back then he swung the sword like it was a stick and he was a child playing make-believe, causing Sir Wikstrom to immediately leave him lying on his rear end in the midst of the castle courtyard. He would usually follow this up by saying Calem was better at sword sharpening than fighting.

But after months of practice, Calem was able to last longer in the one-on-one sparring duel against this master. Of course, Sir Wikstrom was able to win nine times out of ten, but Calem was capable of getting some clever strikes and thrusts in here and there.

As a result of the increased training schedule, Calem’s every muscle began to ache. Morning and night he felt the strain of his days in his arms and legs. He felt it even in the midst of the simplest tasks, such as shining shoes or fetching water and wine for his master.

Two days before the tourney Calem was in the castle courtyard. Despite his pain, he felt himself willing to power through it for the sake of some extra sword practice. With a blunted two-handed sword in his grasp, he unleashed his wrath upon a sparring dummy. Said target was propped upright and tarnished from years of practice, as much more qualified and skilled warriors had honed their craft on it. The strikes the mere Squire was giving out would probably do a fraction of the damage already done.

Although Calem preferred thrusts in the midst of sword fights, he was adamant that he practice his strikes and cuts as well. Even if thrusts were more effective to exploit the gaps in an opponent's armour, Calem did not want to neglect that area of combat. Knighthood may have been a mere dream to bastards like him, but he could at least try to aspire to the ranks of the highborns.

Calem was not alone when he practiced. Sitting on a stack of wooden crates was Serena — King AZ’s Royal Cup Bearer and yet another orphaned Kalosian bastard employed at Shabboneau Castle.

Unlike Serena, Calem had not grown up in a Lumiose children’s home before getting sold to the Castle. Instead he roamed the rocky streets of Ambrette Town in his youth after the loss of his parents — his unwed mother had worked in a tavern and died of an illness when he was young; he never knew his father, but it was fair to say that the man was one of the hundreds of soldiers who died in one of the Kalos-Galar conflicts. At this point there had been so many scuffles that it was hard to know which exact battle the man had perished in.

Calem came to the Castle when he was caught stealing bread from a merchant’s stand, having been given to the authorities and sent to work as Shabboneau’s Royal Stable Boy as punishment. Hopefully now he had atoned for his dreadfully benign sin of stealing a single bun, his Master certainly thought so before promoting him to Squire.

Serena was roughly his age — fifteen and somewhat gawky despite her youth. Her hair was the colour of honey and was often braided to be kept clean. When she was not enabling King AZ’s wine habit, she was exploring the gardens or spending time with Calem. He wasn’t sure if it was because she actually enjoyed his company (if so, then he would seriously begin to mistrust her judgement) or if because bastards and orphans often stuck together.

As Calem practiced his strikes on the dummy, Serena seemed keen on keeping her eyes on him. She had a cup of ale in one hand and in the other a palm-sized pie filled with onions and parsnips and mushrooms and turnips, which was one of the more luxurious foods that servants were permitted to eat. She took a sip of her drink, then asked Calem:

“Where is your Master now?”

Calem hit the head of the dummy, letting out a gravely grunt as his sword made contact. “He is bathing,” he answered without looking away.

Serena grinned cheekily. “And he didn’t need you to wipe his bum?”

Calem stopped swinging for a second to give her an unamused glare. Sometimes her wry humour took a bit of getting used to. “Evidently so,” he replied in the driest tone he could muster.

“What’s our esteemed King doing now?” he then asked, going back to hitting the dummy. “I thought he would need his Royal Cup Bearer at all hours of the day.”

“Our Majesty is sleeping off a Royal Headache,” Serena claimed. She rolled her eyes, then took a bite of her pie. “Sometimes I think I do my job too well.”

As Calem continued to strike the dummy, Serena held out her cup of ale towards him. With a nod, he retracted his weapon and took the drink in his hand. “Thank you,” he said, then took a hearty pull from the vessel.

The bitter taste of the cloudy ale came to him as a welcome relief. Even after trying some of the finer wines that Kalos had to offer (as it was a perk of Squirehood), Calem always felt more at home with a frothy mug in his hand.

Serena noticed Calem’s evident fondness for the brew and smirked. “At this rate you’ll be Sir Calem: Knight of Amber Ale and Form-Fitting Hose.”

Humoured, Calem gave her a sly look as he glanced down towards his legwear. Like many other Squires and Knights and Soldiers, he donned a slim pair of hose to allow for better movement during his daily routine. On occasion he would overhear the female servants expressing their appreciation for such garments. Seemingly in the vein of that, Serena saw it fit to express her own thoughts regarding Calem’s choice in clothing — only her comments were a lot more playful and friendly but mostly sassy.

“I better be,” Calem replied with a comical air of boldness. “I’m sure the fair maidens of Kalos will appreciate the view.”

The two shared a laugh, then Calem handed her the cup of ale back and returned to his training. He was sure that had the dummy been a living person they would most definitely be dead by now. Either that or severely injured to the most hellish extent.

For a moment the two just remained as they were — Calem furthering his attempt at Knighthood and Serena lounging without a care in the world. They may have been not feasting until dawn or being entertained by court jesters, but even the lowborns had ways of enjoying their spare time.

After a few moments passed and Serena was close to finishing off her meal, she glanced down and noticed something peculiar on the ground of the castle courtyard. She swallowed her final mouthful of buttery pie crust and let out a hum.

“Look over there.”

Calem’s sword collided with the head of the dummy with a mighty force — with his hand still on the grip and the blade still touching the target, he glanced down to see what had Serena’s undertunic in a twist.

Hiding behind an empty wooden wine barrel was Chespin. Its ears were perked up and its eyes showed off an air of curiosity. It stared at the pair of bastards, then looked to Calem in particular.

“Friend of yours?” Serena asked.

“In a way,” the Squire replied. He lowered his sword and handed it to her, then knelt down towards Chespin to look the green and brown creature in the eye. “Hello there, are you lost again?”

Seeing as Chespin was not capable of human speech, it simply walked towards Calem with a clumsy waddle and pressed itself against his shin, wrapping its arms around the limb in an adorable attempt at a hug.

Confused, Calem blinked. “Uh… I’m afraid I’ve run out of apples, Little Imp.”

The grin upon Serena’s face was bright like the sun. “Awww…” she cooed. “It likes you.”

Calem nodded, his bewilderment persisting. “Yes, I can see that.” He knelt down and picked Chespin up, holding the creature with as much care as he did before. He looked the little one in the eye and tickled its stomach like how a mother would to her beloved child. “You’re a real clingy one, aren’t you?”

Serena hopped off the stack of crates and set her cup down. She approached the two and began petting Chespin’s head. “I think it just  wants a friend,” she said. “Is the little thief that was running through the kitchens?”

Calem nodded. “Indeed — I released him in the gardens and thought he’d be on his way, I suppose I was wrong.”

Serena scratched behind Chespin’s ears, something that the creature seemed to appreciate. “That doesn’t seem like a bad thing, maybe he wants to be a Knight like you.”

Despite the look of contentedness tugging at his face, Calem felt a pang of worry at the bottom of his stomach. “I’m not sure if Sir Wikstrom would let it be, there are no laws allowing Squires to have creatures with them.”

“But are there any laws stopping Squires from having them?” Serena brought up, playfully smirking at her friend.

For a second Calem began to think — in his head he ran through the various laws of Squirehood that the Knights of Kalos had created in the days of yore. Most of them pertained to public drunkenness and the importance of keeping a Kalosian Knight neatly groomed, but none of them applied to the current situation at hand.

Calem glanced to Chespin, who was currently snuggling its face into the crook of his elbow, smearing green grass stains all over his favourite gambeson. Despite the hesitancy, he gave the little one a grin and lifted the creature high above his head, its tiny feet excitedly swishing through the air.

“I suppose a few days together wouldn’t hurt.”

When Calem brought Chespin down again, he let the creature climb on his shoulder, where it was very glad to be. It settled itself on the top of his head, looking down at its new friend with absolute joy. “I suppose even Squires need Squires sometimes,” he decided, knowing full well that he had made the right choice.

For a few seconds, the pair of bastards beamed at the new creature in their presence… only for the moment to be ruined by Chespin tugging on Calem’s hair.

The Squire’s eyes widened as the creature’s claws grasped onto his dark black locks. “Oh… oh Yvetal, please don’t do that,” he tried, reaching up to get Chespin off his head.

Serena was quick to help, swiftly stepping over and taking Chespin by the scruff of its neck “Whoa, slow down there, most humans don’t like that.”

Once the matter was dealt with and Chespin had let go of Calem’s hair, the Squire sat down on the stack of crates, his newfound friend snuggling onto his lap.

Humoured and exasperated, Calem let out a sigh and then smiled. “We’ve got a few boundaries to discuss, don’t we?”

Serena laughed as Chespin and Calem got to know each other more. Moments passed, then she looked to her left hand, noticing that she had still been holding the Squire’s blunted longsword during all this time. Curiously,  she lifted up the weapon and felt its weight in her arms. It was lighter than she expected, or maybe her body was simply harder where a Lady’s would be soft. Perhaps her years of labouring in the Castle had amounted to something after all.

Grasping the longsword in both hands — one by the crossguard and the other by the pommel, just like Calem had taught her — the weapon immediately became more maneuverable. She raised the mighty sword upwards just like Calem did, positioning her feet apart in preparation to throw out a strike.

From where he was sitting on the crates, Calem watched in intrigue and amusement. “You like that sword, don’t you?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Serena said with a confident grin. It was as if merely holding the weapon imbued with the power of Yvetal and Xerneas’s forces combined.

With a tight grip on the handle, Serena brought her sword down and struck the head of her dummy with all of her strength.

[ziracona]

The second of my ready updates:

The Kid (pt: 1, … 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 ?) [Fate Grand Order AU]

We don’t find Ritsuka where we left her. It’s easy to follow the trail of carnage back, but there’s nothing there when we arrive, and Robin curses and hits one of the walls, muttering something I can’t make out. I want to say something to help him, but I’m feeling too much the same way myself. At least she’s alive, but if they’ve caught her…

“I told her to call us! And if she used that much mana, she knew she was in trouble, and she tried to fight instead!” snaps Robin.

“It’s possible something else happened,” interjects King David, “Couldn’t she have found someone else?”

That’s true. That’s true, and that would explain a lot! God, I hope so. I really, really hope so. I try to sense for another connection to a new spirit, but again, I find nothing, just like I can’t find my master.

“Come on,” says Emiya, “We need her back either way, and there’s nothing to do but search. If she left, she’d have started from here and had to head r—”

He stops.

I turn and follow his gaze. A little ways down the hall in that direction, there’s a door whose entire lock panel is melted. Bingo.

“Come on!” I call, rushing towards it.

As soon as I get there, I start to push open the door, but Robin catches me by my shoulder, and when I look, he’s pointing down the hall. “That way.”

“You can sense her?” I ask, amazed.

“No, but there’s faint mana traces in the air, and I’m extremely attuned to my own signature,” he replies, “She was wearing my cloak when we left her, and I can sense it picking up here—the trail goes that way. This way!” he calls to the others, “I’ll trace it!”

We tear off after Robin, turning down halls and up an elevator shaft. Alarms are blaring, and I still hear shouts in the distance. We only hit one patch of guards though, on the floor we get off on. They’re kneeling beside the downed bodies of other guards, whose blood has begun to dry already on the floor, and we catch them by surprise, knocking them out easily. She wasn’t alone, then, I think as I hesitate once the guards are down before moving on, And whoever she was with, they’re violent. And she wasn’t in control of them.

Not Ur-shanabi is good. Violent and not in control is really, really bad.

We go faster. A blur of tense, desperate movement down halls and past empty rooms and faint traces.

“I sense her!” shouts Robin, skidding to a stop halfway down a hall and changing course, “This way!”

He’s right! I check and I can sense her again too—one floor above us now, and a few halls over. King David breaks a hole through the ceiling with his sling and we move up as fast as we can, following her signature. We’re getting close, and overcome with a surge of intent, I pull ahead as we’re right on top of her and round the last corner first, and she’s there! She's there! She’s alive! She’s alive, and then the relief is immediately replaced with fear, because there’s a tall man I’ve never seen before, a heroic spirit like us, with some very intimidating energy coming off him, and two unmoving bodies slung over his shoulder, one a second heroic spirit, and the other Ritsuka, both unconscious and limp.

I draw and let a flurry of bullets slam into the wall all around his head. “Drop her!” I shout, “Or I won’t miss the next one!”

The man spins on his heel to face me and takes a step back, and I see on his face he’s thinking fast as the rest of the group slides into the hall behind me.

Seeing so many of us, the man grits his teeth and summons a long, thin sword made out of something I’m having a hard time looking directly at for some reason, simultaneously tightening his grip on Ritsuka and the other body and turning to angle himself between us and them. “What do you want!” he shouts desperately, “Aren’t all of you spirits too? Why are you attacking! What, are you dogs for this place?”

“We’re attacking because that’s our master’s unconscious body you’ve got highly god damn suspiciously slung over your shoulder!” snaps back Robin, bow aimed and leveled.

Eerily calm, beside me, King David readies his slingshot with a kind of poise and concentration that is genuinely unnerving. I do not think he will miss.

“Your master?” says the man in disbelief, “Do you think I’m an idiot? Outside of a ritual, a human being can barely sustain one spirit alone, let alone a human child—and this girl is my master. –‘Our master’? You expect me to believe this young girl is sustaining not just two, but six heroic spirits at the same time, alone?”

Wait.

Ahhhhh shit. Shit! That makes so much sense. Whooo second time today I’m real glad my instinct is to threaten and not to shoot strangers that only might be a huge threat!

“I don’t know what you want her for, but you’re not getting her!” continues the man with a ferocious intensity that makes him feel daunting, even heavily burdened and so clearly outnumbered. There’s a surge of mana around him, and in one burst of energy the grey suit is gone, replaced by a black and red uniform with a cloak and a full face mask, and the pressure in the room itself has changed and I’m suddenly hearing unsettling whispers in the air, and ah shit shit he’s flinging both bodies he was carrying out behind him and going to move which can only mean heee—crap crap crap; he’s about to use a bigass area of effect noble phantasm, and everyone knows it, and it hits me I’ve got about a third of a second before somebody shoots somebody in here’n—

“Wait, wait, wait!” I call, spinning my gun into my holster and stepping into the line of fire for the first few people beside me, hands up and out, because I like to think we’ve all hit the conclusion I just did, but everyone in the group is exhausted and tense and I’m not takin’ chances, “This was a mistake! Nobody shoot!”

To my surprise, no one does—not even the new guy. He stands, so tense he’s almost shaking, sword still leveled, but whatever he was about to do, he doesn’t—the mana level in the hall holds, and he listens.

Behind him in the sudden silence, I hear Ritsuka and the other guy hit the floor and roll with little thuds, and wince internally. I keep my focus on the guy in front of me and my hands up. “Sorry—We jumped the gun on you there-outah concern for our master,” I say apologetically, “I know this is gonna be real hard for you to believe, but she really is our master too. –If you find that hard to believe, you can check for yourself!—'parrently if you’re co-contracted, you can sense the connection to each other a little—you should be able to sense it from every one of us. Sorry I didn’t notice yours sooner; with our Master right on top of you, I wasn’t picking up the weaker signal under such a strong one. I can find it now, though.”

Taken aback and mistrustful, the man hesitates, then very slowly lowers his sword just a few inches, and beside me I sense the others do the same with their weapons in response. Taking that as a good enough show of faith, the man turns his head towards each of us in turn to sense for connections, then cranes his masked head to look at Ritsuka’s limp form where she landed, and says, “But. That’s impossible.” The earlier viciousness is gone now, and the air pressure in the room returns to normal. Wheeew, thank God! I let myself relax.

“She’s an unusual person,” replies Emiya, “Usually, you’d be right.”

“No wonder she passed out after forming a contract with me, the poor girl,” says the man softly like he means it. I decide I really like this guy. Got less than no idea who he is, but he was gonna get himself killed just now trying to keep Ritsuka and whoever else he’s got there from gettin’ hurt, instead of droppin’ ���em and savin’ himself, and he clearly already likes her, so what else do I gotta know?

Shit—speakin’ of—

“I’m uh—just gonna go pick her up off the floor then? If we’re all cool?” I declare just in case the guy hasn’t decided he’s on board completely yet.

“… Oh. Yes,” he says with a note of chagrin, turning himself to look at where they’ve landed.

I go to her as fast as I can, unsurprised to hear everyone else coming too. The new guy comes as well, but he goes to the other body.

When I reach Ritsuka, I’m relieved to see she doesn’t look injured anywhere, just a little bit pale. I take a knee and scoop her up gently, trying to make sure there’s no damage I don’t see.

“Well, you look like you’re in one piece at least.” Robin, speaking softly. I glance up and watch as he takes a knee too and looks her over too. She’s still wearing his cloak, and he touches the hood, which is hanging loose, then sighs and pats her on the head. “And you took it off, I see. But I guess your judgement was okay, since things turned out like this. I won’t give you the worst time when you wake up again. You damn fool.”

The others are above us too now, and I glance up at King David and Emiya. I stand up so they can see too without trouble. “She’s fine, right?” I ask, since they both do healing to some extent. She seems like it, but bein’ unconscious always means somethin’ ain’t quite right.

King David reaches over and places a hand on her face for a second, then smiles. “She’s alright—just exhausted. –Good throw!” he adds cheerily to the other heroic spirit, who glances over in surprise from where he’s just stood up again himself with the other body he threw in his arms, “I don’t think that even really bruised her!”

The man seems to consider responding, but have no idea what to say, and shuts his mouth and just kind of gives an awkward nod. He hesitates, then moves closer to get a look at how she’s doing himself.

I haven’t had a chance to get a good look at the second heroic spirit—the one he’s holding—before this, but I do now. And…it is grim.

Shit. Whatever they did to him, it was bad. Weird that after what most have been two months of absolute hell I ain’t comfortable enough with to look at, I still feel like I got comparatively lucky. Least I knew what was going on…

“If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is a teenager like her doing here, and with six heroic spirits contracted to her?” asks the new man, glancing over at us.

“Uh, rescue mission,” says Robin, gesturing vaguely, “Happened to see that one in trouble,” he indicates me, “broke him out, summoned him for backup,” he indicates Emiya, “and they came back here to clean house. The rest of us were all in about the same position I expect you two were.”

“Ah, then is that why he’s…?” says the man, gesturing to our unconscious lancer.

Emiya gives a nod.

“What about yours?” I ask.

The unconscious spirit in his arms is in way worse condition than our lancer is—at least, he looks a lot worse. The guy’s body is covered in deep purple runes and markings I don’t recognize that glow and pulse faintly, carved into his skin, and his body is swollen horribly all over and covered in tiny red bumps. The bags under his eyes are deep and his face gaunt and hollow looking, even swollen, which is somehow worse than either would be on its own. His long blonde hair is lifeless, damp with sweat and caked to his body, and he’s breathing raggedly and weak. I have seen spirits in conditions as bad as this from wounds, in the heat of battle, but never…sick? I can’t think of any other way to describe this, but he looks sick, which we don’t get any more—and he looks terminal, at that.

“Yes. This is what they did to him. …I…haven’t been able to fix it all. I thought my master might be able to help me when she woke,” answers the man. He’s stayed in his armor and mask, so I can’t see expressions at all, but he’s got a trustworthy voice—real sad, though.

“Can I take a look?” asks King David, “I may be able to help.”

The man hesitates, then says, “Yes. Uhm. —alright. –Might I ask who the rest of you are?” like he knows it was stupid to still be untrusting at this point, but he can’t help it. I think he and the other spirit must be friends, because I can’t imagine him being this level of protective over a complete stranger, and it’s about how I expect I’d be with Robin or Geronimo.

“You first,” says Robin at the same time Emiya says, “After you,” and they both look incredibly pissed that the other had the exact same impulse.

“Right. My apologies,” says the man formally, and I buy that—he seems frazzled and stressed. “My true name is Antonio Salieri.”

God damn it. I try to smile and not let my absolute lack of knowledge show on my face. Now there’s two spirits in the party whose names I have never even heard—this sucks. It always feels low-key rude not to know. It looks like King David’s in the same boat as me, so I feel a little bit better, but Robin and Emiya I think recognize it.

“And him?” asks Robin. Emiya was definitely about to say almost the same thing, but he stops himself from overlapping this time and gets some kind of an expression on his face.

“—I’m Billy the Kid,” I interject as friendly as I can, because I feel like we’re pilin’ it on a little harsh here.

“Thank you,” he tells me, then turning to the others, “This is Mozart—Wolfgang Amadeus.”

Oooooh, the composer! That’s pretty cool. Robin and Emiya both get incredibly strange looks on their faces, though, and I know Robin well enough to tell he’s suddenly trying really hard not to laugh nervously. The heck’s that about?

“King David,” chimes in King David, oblivious to this and holding up a finger in greeting. Salieri turns to stare at him. Then he begins softly to laugh hysterically, and everyone gets real quiet.

He doesn’t seem to realize how weird that is, and just looks down at the body in his arms and says, “It appears once again God looks out for you only, and particularly.”

“Guys?” I prompt in the hopes of turning this conversation back to semi-normal, and because it’s kinda bad form not to exchange names once an ally tells you theirs.

“Robin Hood,” says Robin, punching his timecard back into the present.

“…Emiya,” says Emiya like he doesn’t want to answer.

Salieri glances back up, serious and normal again, and nods slowly.

“May I?” says King David again, and Salieri obliges. King David starts looking over Mozart thoughtfully, muttering to himself in what I’m pretty sure has gotta be Hebrew, and he flicks his wrist without looking and his kinnor appears by him. As I watch, he shuts his eyes and begins to play. It’s the longest and most intricate melody I’ve heard from him, and it’s fascinating to listen to. Beautiful. Nothing I’ve ever heard before either, and he sings softly with it in his own tongue. It’s…really incredible. I’ve heard some pretty good piano players and guitarists in my own day, but seeing somebody like this, you understand for the first time the concept of a genius on an instrument—it’s so unlike anything I’ve heard before, it’s like it’s a totally different thing than what I thought of as music. While he plays, the glowing purple markings start to twist and dissolve on Mozart’s skin, a piece and a few at a time from foot-to-head, and as they go, his body begins to repair itself. It’s a strange thing to watch, curses leaving a body, but it's pretty amazing too.

“Damn,” I whisper under my breath.

“You said it,” agrees Robin softly with a smile.

“So, uh?” I ask, focusing my attention back on Ritsuka and glancing over at Emiya, “Any way to wake her up?”

“You could smack her,” says Emiya offhand, and then there’s a half-second delay and he gets a look on his face that says very clearly he did not think before speaking and wishes greatly he had. He grimaces, and gives Ritsuka a glance, then reaches out with his free hand.

“—You ain’t gonna smack her, right?” I make sure—to bother him, not because I’m really worried he would.

Emiya sighs at me and I grin. He places a hand on her chest and I watch geometric patterns runs along her skin for a moment.

“She used too many circuits she wasn’t used to using,” he tells me, eyes still on Ritsuka, “Flooded them and burned herself out a little. –She’ll be fine, though—I’ve seen a lot worse of the same. I think it just tired her out, the same way an intense amount of physical exertion someone isn’t used to might after an adrenaline rush would. This should help her wake up.”

He removes his hand, and the patterns vanish. Ritsuka stays still for a few seconds, then groans and turns a little in my arms to snuggle against my shoulder, muttering incoherently, and I smile.

“Thanks,” I say to Emiya. He gives a nod. “How’s the lancer doing?” I add with a little concern. I really expected him to wake up again already. Emiya’s expression darkens and closes off.

“It’s complicated,” he answers after a moment, “But not well. …I can’t really fix what’s wrong with him; neither can David, and the problem’s not his mana supply from the kid. It’s what they did before, and don’t think any of us can fix it.”

“Not even with a command spell?” I ask, taken aback and feeling a chill settle on me. Thinking about him vanishing and getting dragged back here to…that shit again. We got to raze this place to a pile of ash. A part of me wonders if that’ll really be enough, though. We’re lucky in that mages tend to guard any breakthrough like hoard of gold, but at the same time, these mages are selling, and if they’re selling, god knows how much they were willing to part with for money.

Emiya shrugs. “A spell could forestall death a little, but they’re not really meant for repairing a spirit origin with a gaping hole in it. This is something that’d take time and experience to figure out, if it can be fixed. The good news is that he’s not going to die in the next few hours or anything, unless he takes a lot more damage—if there’s one thing he excels at, it’s being damn near impossible to put in the dirt quickly—so, we don’t have to rush for a solution while we’re here. If we stay focused and on task, we should have a chance after we deal with this place. And if not, so long as we bring this place down, he should at least be able to avoid being brought back here.”

He's really thought this through. I know he’s a tactical fighter anyway, even not having known him long, but something about the amount of detail makes me think despite the weird interaction they must be some kind of friends. I’m distracted from considering that any further though, because Ritsuka shifts a little again and opens her eyes about halfway. “Mnnn…” She blinks unevenly at my vest, then turns her head up and squints at me. “…Billy?”

“Heya,” I say with a smile, feeling immense relief seein’ her up, “Feelin’ better?”

“Oh?” says Emiya, moving in too, “You’re up faster than I expected.” I feel pretty sure that’s his version of saying he’s relieved to see her okay.

“I am?” asks Ritsuka, still a little foggy.

“Hey kid,” says Robin, leaning over from the other side, “I see you did the exact opposite of what I asked you to.”

“No I didn’t,” she mumbles, blinking and trying to focus, “I was gonna call. I almost did—when I thought I was in trouble. But it was okay. I met a new…Oh!” Her eyes get clearer, and she tries to sit up before realizing she is being held and can’t very much like this. “Antonio! I met this other spirit—did you find—“

“—Don’t worry,” says Emiya, “He’s safe and sound; we already met.” I move to accommodate her view. “He’s right over there with David and Mozart.”

Salieri and King David are both looking over already, and King David gives a grin in greeting but keeps playing. Salieri starts to say something, but Ritsuka does before he gets a chance.

“With—‘Mozart’?” she asks, face scrunched up, looking from him to the other three and staring with absolute blankness at them “—The…composer?? Where did he come from?”

Wait.

“Wait, you weren’t—you didn’t contract with that one?” asks Robin before I can.

“No—I never saw him before,” says Ritsuka, just as confused, “Do I need to?”

Ohhhhh—of course. Salieri didn’t think she could contract with more than one person, and he said she passed out soon as the two of them made a pact—we’re all idiots. I can’t believe I didn’t even think to check.

“Hey,” says Robin to Salieri, almost accusingly, “How’s your friend still solid?”

“I’m maintaining him,” answers Salieri, almost taken aback, “I can’t for long, but I can slow down his consumption. It’s a…” He glances back at Ritsuka and sees the same confused look on her face and his tone changes immediately, warmer. “class ability. Mana replenishment.”

“What class?” says Robin, in a tone that tracks, because I have never heard that one before either.

“…Avenger,” answers Salieri after a moment. ‘Avenger’? “You’re awake again,” he adds to Ritsuka in the most friendly tone I’ve heard from him, “Are you alright?”

“…Antonio?” asks Ritsuka, staring at him.

It takes him a second to realize why she looks that way, then he gives an, “Oh,” and flicks his wrist, and the helmet vanishes to reveal his face again.

“Oh—hi,” says Ritsuka, a little stunned still, “I’m sorry—I didn’t recognize you for a second—that’s really cool armor you have.”

He doesn’t look like he knows how to process or respond to that.

“I think I’m okay now. A little tired and sore, but pretty good actually—How about you? How are you feeling?” she adds. “Better? -I hope?”

Again, he seems taken off guard by the question, but he glances down at himself, then up at her. “I’m…alright. Certainly better than I was, at the least. Thank you.”

She smiles. “Good. Sorry I passed out before explaining anything.”

“Well, it’s no wonder,” he says, looking at the assembled people she’s keeping up, “And I think I’m fairly up to speed now.”

“Did you rescue him on your own?” asks Ritsuka, indicating Mozart. He nods. “And that’s Mozart? The composer?”

“Yes,” says Salieri with a very specific tone that I weirdly can’t place.

“Wow,” says Ritsuka. She hesitates and looks over the whole group before looking up and settling on me, “How long was I out?”

“I don’t think too long—maybe ten, fifteen minutes?” I suggest.

“You work fast,” she says to Salieri with a grin, “Thanks for saving him!”

Salieri, king of not knowing how to respond, looks back blankly for a moment then gives a hesitant nod.

“Uhm,” she continues, glancing up at me, “I think I can stand up now, if you put me down.”

“Oh! Sure thing,” I say, setting her down but keeping my hands up in case she isn’t as steady as she thinks. She’s not, but she catches herself just fine, then gives herself a second to get her sea legs back before trying to walk again.

“Sure you’re okay?” asks Robin.

She nods. “I’m just a little dizzy. I really do feel a lot better—I think I should be able to anchor another one of you just fine once he wakes up.”

“Are you sure though?” I ask, “You got six contracts runnin’ now, and the last one took you out for a little bit. –Don’t you think another one might knock you out even longer?”

“I don’t think so,” says Ritsuka, who in fairness is bouncing back wildly fast, “I know I passed out after making a contract, but I don’t really think that was why; I was already really faint before that—it happened during the fight with the gashadokuros—when that one popped out of the floor, and grabbed us? I think maybe it just hurt me a little or something, and I hadn’t recovered yet.”

“Oh,” I say, heart sinking a little.

“My ribs feel fine now though!” she assures me.

Yeah, I don’t really think it was the gashadokuro that did it. I feel kinda guilty, too, because I knew when I did it I was putting all of us at risk of vanishin’, but what else could I have done? …I mean, we were about to get smashed, and she’s supposed to be my top priority as a servant. Even though she said that ain’t what she wants, if I’m just pickin’ my own priorities for me, that’s still up top. Plus, we all made it, so it turned out okay.

“That was me, I think,” I admit.

She blinks at me and tilts her head.

“I used a noble phantasm,” I explain, “I’m sorry—I knew you were tapped out already, and we’d agreed we’d all have to not, because of about what happened when I did, but I didn’t see another sure way out of you and me gettin’ smashed—and it did work! And turned out fine—so.”

“But. I thought yours doesn’t take much mana?” she asks, confused.

“Well, Thunderer don’t,” I explain, “But I got more than one. Whole lot of us do. And they ain’t the same.”

Beside me, Robin gives a nod.

“Oh.” She thinks about that, then beams at me. “Well wait, that’s great then! If that’s all it was, I don’t have to worry about making contracts!”

I smile back.

“Oh—how’s the lancer doing?” asks Ritsuka, turning to Emiya, seeing for herself how he’s doing, and face falling a little, “He’s still not awake?”

“He was for a little, but he passed out again—probably when you did,” answers Emiya, “He’s weak, but he’s holding on. In his condition, it’s just going to take more of a mana flow to keep him awake than the rest of us.”

“Okay,” says Ritsuka thoughtfully, “Well. Since I’m awake, that means he’ll probably be feeling better again pretty soon too, right?”

Emiya gives a nod.

I wonder why he doesn’t tell her. I guess he doesn’t want her to worry about something she can’t fix, but I think she should know. I would tell her now, if Emiya and the lancer didn’t seem to be some kind of weird friends, because that means he might know and be doing what the lancer would want if he was up to pick for himself.

“Okay—can you let me know as soon as he wakes up?” she ask. He nods. “Did the plan go okay?”

I give a nod, and Robin says, “Sure thing—we left them on an upper level, made sure to give personnel a chance to flee, but scare them enough to motivate them. It’s gotten quiet too, so I expect they’ve un-summoned the things.”

“That’s amazing!,” she says, “Wow, everybody did a really good job on their own. Thank you—OH! Wait—Mozart—this means we’ve got all seven—six, I mean, right? –One for each catalyst?”

“Think so,” I agree.

“I haven’t sensed any more of us,” adds Emiya slowly, “Which should mean all that’s left is bringing the building down, and destroying research. Taking care of staff.”

Ritsuka looks worried by the last note there, but she nods seriously.

“So we go looking for heads of staff next?” I ask.

Emiya gives a nod.

“We should find the security office then—checking the tech will probably be the quickest way to find them,” says Robin, then with a sigh, “Damn shame we didn’t pick up an assassin. They’d have come in real handy right about now.”

Ritsuka turns to Salieri and David, I think because I’m gettin’ more used to her problem-solving style, to ask about Mozart’s class in case it’s Assassin, but when she gets a real look at Mozart with her full sense intact, what she was gonna say goes right out of her head and she freezes and just looks horrified instead. Then takes a little step closer and asks, “…What happened to him?”

“Some intricate curses,” answers King David, still playing his kinnor, “It’s a nasty bit of spell work, but I can undo it—I’m almost done. It’ll take a little for his vessel to repair itself after the curses are gone, especially with such a weak supply of magic, but it should work just fine.”

“We should get moving,” circles back Robin quietly to just Emiya and me, watching them, “The yokai scattered them pretty well for us, but that won’t last us forever. Don’t want to tempt fate here.”

“Which one was the kunai?” asks Emiya in the same tone.

“Huh?” I say, taking about five seconds to mentally shift subjects back to catalysts, “Oh. Uh.”

…Who was the kunai? I try to mentally figure this through. “Picture,” I say pointing to myself, then gesturing to Robin, “Coin.”

“Earring,” says Emiya, indicating the ones the lancer is wearing.

“Earring,” I echo in confirmation, then glance at King David and the other two. “…I…King David’s gotta be the pitcher, right? And one of them must be the letter, the other the knife—could Salieri be the kunai?”

“If it was a common dagger, maybe,” says Emiya, “But a kunai? For a classical Italian composer?”

He’s got a point.

“Let’s find out,” says Robin, then louder, to Salieri, King David, and Ritsuka, “—Hey—sorry, quick question. These people had six catalysts for sure, and we have found six of us now. But we’re not sure they match up. –Don’t want to leave someone behind, you know. So, aside from us, there was a pitcher, a kunai knife, and a letter. We’re assuming you weren’t the letter or the knife,” he adds to King David, who gives a nod.

“From that list, I would have to be the pitcher—it was probably an oil pitcher,” confirms King David.

“That leaves two, and two of you, but neither of you make sense for the kunai,” says Robin.

“No, we don’t,” agrees Salieri, glancing up from the body in his arms, “We were both the letter.”

“You were both the letter?” I ask.

“Yes. It was from him, about me,” says Salieri tiredly, “And it called us both.”

That’s the worst possible timing to get dual-summoned anywhere. Almost any other situation it would at least be nice to be in a foxhole with an old friend. Talk about grim luck, I think. “So we’re still one short?”

“…I guess,” says Emiya slowly, “Or they simply haven’t used it yet. It seems like most of you haven’t been here long yet, Lancer only a few days; we don’t really know what schedule they’re on. The research stations aren’t far from us or the security huh, though—If we go  there first, we can probably find the answer.”

“That sounds smart,” says Ritsuka hopefully, “Let’s do that—we can’t leave somebody.”

“So was that a success?” Robin asks King David, glancing over at Mozart. The composer looks a lot better now. The glowing curses are gone, and while his body still looks kind of messed up, it looks a lot less on the verge of death. I guess that’s in line with what King David said. Still, poor guy is still pale and breathing shallow and weak. Whatever the spells were, they must have been hell on him.

“Yes, his vessel is resetting itself,” says King David proudly. He lets go of his kinnor and it vanishes. “It was some intensely specific spell work, they have a gifted and dangerous mage on staff. The mental effects should be already gone as they were more curse alone than inflicted physical damage, but it’ll just take however long it takes for his mana supply to replenish him enough to heal the rest.” He absently pats Mozart’s head once which almost startles Salieri. “Poor man. They really did a number.”

“Will it be enough?” Ritsuka asks, glancing up at Salieri, “To heal him okay, if it’s just from you? –I’d form a contract with him if he was awake, but, I can’t—I could give you a command spell though, for the energy, if you need it!”

“That’s kind,” says Salieri, “but you should keep them for true emergencies.” He looks at the man in his arms fondly and a little sadly. “I can tell he’s bouncing back remarkably fast as well, for all the damage done, so I expect he’ll be alright in a short time if things continue the way they are. He won’t be in danger of vanishing before that happens.”

“That’s good,” says Ritsuka, clearly relieved.

“We should get moving, then,” Robin almost interrupts, “We’ve already been in one place too long, and we can’t afford to lose momentum—especially if they’ve got tricks like earlier at their disposal. They seem to have temporarily lost us, and I’d love to keep it that way.”

“Right,” says Ritsuka, straightening up, “Okay—if David’s done, then let’s go.”

David gives a nod.

“Could one of you carry him?” asks Salieri hurriedly, like he’s afraid we’ll take off first.

It takes me a second to get that he means Mozart despite how obvious that should be, just because it’s so totally out of left field as a thing I’d expect him to say.

“I can continue to sustain his mana if I’m fairly close, and I can trade—I’ll take that one,” he adds quickly, indicating the lancer Emiya has, which visibly throws Emiya more than anything I’ve seen since Ritsuka calling him ‘Dad’, “—I have no trouble fighting while holding someone, but if I keep Mozart with me much longer, I may kill him.”

…

“You’ll what?” says Ritsuka.

“I. May kill him,” Salieri echoes himself quietly, glancing down at the unconscious body in his arms.

“…But.” says Ritsuka helplessly. Yeah.

“I thought you were friends?” I ask, lost myself.

“We are,” agrees Salieri, “Or—I am. I. Was—it’s complicated. I, Salieri, was his friend—am, his friend, but, I, as I am now—as the thing that has been carved onto the throne, am also his sworn enemy.” He’s struggling a little. It’s strange. Aside from the one time he went into hysterics he’s seemed as normal as the rest of us, but it’s suddenly like he’s trying really hard not to completely fall apart—not in a crying way—like he’s frazzled and shaky mentally all of a sudden, and struggling to ground himself. It…makes me sad. Almost agonized, he turns to Emiya and Robin like some last-ditch hope. “Tell me—you recognized my name. What do you know it from?”

Robin doesn’t answer, but Emiya says, “Stories. About you killing Mozart.” There’s something about his tone. Low, and something else too. Between pity and understanding. I think he gets what’s going on, even though I don’t yet. Though. …I think I might be afraid I’m starting to…

“Yes,” says Salieri bitterly, “That’s what everyone remembers, true or not, and so it is what the Throne wanted, and what the throne got.”

Oh.

Oh God. … I—s-shit. That’s…I’ve heard of that happening before, sort of. I’ve met people, just a few, that were a little like this—people from stories so many folks believed were true, the throne grabbed someone as like them as possible, and twisted them—fucked with their personalities and memory and abilities, and threw them on the throne as only a little who they were before, and a lot who it wanted to force them to be, to try and make someone who never was. I hadn’t thought about that happening with personal rumor—public opinion versus the truth, but of course it must. Which is…awful. …

“But you didn’t,” says Ritsuka, a question, but not at all a ‘did you?’—it’s very much a ‘so it doesn’t make sense?’.

Salieri glances at her and smiles a little sadly, exhales slow. “No. I didn’t. But that doesn’t get to matter for me now. I’m an Avenger.”

“I.” Ritsuka looks at him, then us, settles on Emiya, “I don’t know what that means.”

“They’re…embodiments of resentment,” says Emiya in a level tone, “Unlike us, associated with a legacy of skills or feats, they’re tied to an injury or hatred from their life, and manifested as an embodiment of that rage and the desire to chase it—to avenge.”

“So…You’re. …trapped?” she asks slowly, eyes big with worry as she turns back to face Salieri. He watches her solemnly with a kind of resigned, quiet sadness I recognize very well. “As…the desire to. ...”

“Kill him,” finishes Salieri for her simply, “And a personification of hatred of him as well. Always.”

“That’s awful,” says Ritsuka.

He tries to smile at her. “Yes. But there’s no escaping it. I ask only that you take precautions, with both of us here. It will be difficult, perhaps impossible, for me to do so on my own.”

She looks at him, then down at the floor, fist clenched, thinking hard. “But,” she says desperately as she looks up at him again, “But you didn’t do it—you’re still you. From before. You remember everything, right? You said—And you think like you, and—and when I was unconscious, you went and rescued him all on your own; you didn’t kill him!”

“Yes, you could say that,” says Salieri quietly, looking at something far past all of us, and I think maybe long ago, before returning to the present, “But it would be as fair to say that I am only a small part of him—of who I was. And that I am also very much the fabricated Man in Grey whose purpose and desire is to kill him. As well as a manifestation of people’s lies, and their hatred, and my hatred of them for it. I am more than one thing; I am enough things now that I could not say with certainty which one I am even the most, or if I am one the most at all, or if I am truly any of them, but I can say with absolute certainty that I cannot be trusted to stay the one I or you would wish for an entire summons.” He looks at her sadly. “I told you when you offered me a contract that I am dangerous. Not to you, not if you’re careful. But I am afraid I will not be as useful as you would wish. Despite my best efforts…”

“But,” says Ritsuka again, “No—it’s not about that. It’s—"

“—Think of it as like a command spell,” offers Emiya gently, taking a step up to be beside her, “But woven into him on summon, instead of lasting a short time. Even if he’s still who he was, none of us can resist compulsion forever. That’s not his fault or something you can fix for him. It wasn’t added to his manifestation here—it’s an integral part of it. Let him be careful.”

There’s something he doesn’t say, but I hear it just the same, from his tone and his expression, and the one on Salieri’s face. That this is Salieri’s way of trying to be himself, by achieving the goal he’d have wanted, even if it can only be attained by keeping himself at arm’s length and gunpoint.

And I think he’s right.

Ritsuka I think gets it too, at least mostly. She looks from him to Salieri in distress, then lets out a breath and nods. “Okay. …I’m sorry,” she adds, looking up at Salieri with so much sorrow on her face.

He smiles weakly. “Thank you, Master.”

“Oh,” she says worriedly, “please don’t call me that—you can just call me Ritsuka.”

He cocks his head at her.

“Like I said before,” she continues hopefully, “I don’t want a servant—I just want to help.”

“Oh?” says King David, who I’m realizing didn’t get the pitch when we snagged him. He seems both amused and happy about this development.

“Very well, then,” says Salieri, with a little half-bow.

“Oh—and you—” she adds, “Do you prefer Antonio? Or Salieri? Or Mr. Salieri?-“

“Salieri is fine,” he responds.

“Salieri,” she echoes in confirmation.

“Alright then, let’s get moving—Like Robin said, we’ve already lingered here too long,” says Emiya, moving forward and offering an arm, “I can carry him.”

“Alright, I’ll take yours then,” says Salieri.

“I can take both,” replies Emiya.

“But then how will you fight?” asks Ritsuka.

“Oh for crying out loud,” exclaims Robin, cutting off whatever reply Emiya was about to give and shooting him a look, then turning to Salieri and holding out his own arms, “Here—I’ll take him.”

Salieri passes the body carefully to Robin, though he looks unhappy about doing it.

“Oh—your cloak,” says Ritsuka, taking it off and handing it to Robin.

He glances back and takes it with a wink, casually slinging it over his shoulder, “Next time I lend this, you might want to actually use the invisibility.”

“Well, I did as long as I could,” she tries, but he’s already grinning at her, and she gets she’s being teased and smiles back.

“Let’s move,” calls out Emiya, a little annoyed now, and he takes off. Robin follows, but Salieri and King David both hesitate and glance at Ritsuka.

“I got ‘er!” I call, snagging her with an arm and bolting off after the others. She makes a surprised sound between a laugh and a yelp and then grins at me. I think it must be fun, going this fast when you’re still a human. I woulda enjoyed it for sure. Really should bring her goggles though—what if we have to go really fast at some point? I file that away.

Behind me, Salieri follows close, King David taking up the rear. I’m very glad we got Emiya on the team, because he’s got a good sense of direction and an ability to channel his mana into physical objects to read layouts and mechanical workings. I mean, we’re all not bad at figuring the layout of anywhere as heroic spirits, but the level he’s on is truly impressive. Guess Ritsuka got the summon answer she really needed after all.

As one, we dart down halls and through an empty gallery. Instead of hitting the elevator shaft again, now that they know we’re here, Emiya snaps a hole through the floor above with his bow and just takes the fast route from point A to point B. I can sense people nearby and a lot of mana not far above us myself now. I take a corner right after Robin and by the time I’m in the next hall Emiya has already downed six of eight guards, and Robin is taking shots at the next two. They are quite a tag-team, but I have a strong feeling they would both hate being told that.

“They were surprised,” Emiya informs us mentally, “It appears the distraction with the gashadokuro worked better than expected—they seem scattered.”

We race through this floor, passing offices and closed doors. I sense a large amount of mana behind one, and Emiya must too because he stops to kick it down. There’s no one inside, but there’s an automated familiar defense system, and a bunch of little magecraft wasps fill the air in a swarm. My gut tells me they got some kind of poison, and I slide to the side to take Ritsuka out of the line of fire before taking some shots at the swarm from the cover of the doorway. I’m thinkin’ Emiya, Robin, and I can all easily deal with this, but it’s gonna be hard not to damage everything in the room doing so, when I suddenly hear the sound of a grand piano behind me and turn in I think the only emotion one can have hearing a grand piano where it shouldn’t be, to see Salieri with the faint glowing outline of a phantasmal instrument at his fingertips. His fingers flash across the keys with precision and incredible force, and myriad of little grey figures appear between us and the swarm and destroy them in a flash of light.

“Thanks,” I say, kinda stunned. He gives a nod.

Emiya has wasted no time and is already inside, searching.

“What? Why did we stop here?” Ritsuka asks me.

“Something with a lot of mana was inside—we couldn’t tell what,” I reply, then to Emiya, “What was it?”

“Yours,” says Emiya by way of answer, stepping back out and chucking Robin his coin, which he catches in surprise and then turns over in his fingers with a very hard to read expression on his face. “Yours,” he adds to King David, tossing a clay pitcher, “And yours,” he adds, handing Salieri a very old letter in a sealed package.

“Where’s mine?” I ask at the same time King David says, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“I can carry it!” volunteers Ritsuka, “I brought a backpack!”

He can’t seem to think of a reason not to, and gives it to her.

“Yours wasn’t in there,” says Emiya, “Neither was the kunai, or the earring.”

Huh. I…guess maybe it means they were already setting up a circle somewhere, to try and drag me back. That’s a great feeling…

Nothing to do about it though, so I give a nod and let myself puzzle through that while we move towards our target. There are a lot of alarms going off throughout the building now, which isn’t good, but I am starting to notice as we go that the security cameras aren’t tracking our movement. Emiya was taking care of them earlier, but I haven’t seen him do that in a bit—I think we’re past caring. But…

We hit the end of this floor and move up again, right through the floor like before. I hear Emiya’s voice in my head say, “Focus up. We’re nearing the research stations.”

He’s right. The layout of this building has been fairly similar before now, long halls, large rooms, similar numbers of rooms per floor. Interspersed with open areas like walking intersections. This floor is different. We come up in an abandoned office room, but the second we exit it, I see a huge metal door blocking us. I can feel the enchantments on it too—and it’s not just blocking a room, it’s making the entire rest of this floor inaccessible. On top of that, the thing fuckin’ looks like the entrance to a bank vault.

“Talk about extra,” Robin says, thinkin’ the same thing I’m feelin’. He glances at Emiya. “Can you tell if there’s any weakest point to the bounded field?”

Emiya touches the field, and it seems to shock him. He snaps back his hand and shakes it, then reaches his hand up like he’s going to call one of his swords, stops, and grimaces. “…It’s strong, but it’s far from the best one of theirs I’ve seen. I could break it right here, but it might put too much strain on our master.”

“-Ritsuka,” corrects Ritsuka.

“Ritsuka,” he echoes in our heads. He studies the door, then places his hand on the wall beside it, just before where I can sense the bounded field begin, and I feel a surge of mana from him. “I can point you to the weakest spots in the walls, but you’ll have to break the outer seal with your phantasm,” he informs me, “The rest of us don’t have the firepower right now.”

“Let’s go,” I agree, setting Ritsuka down and drawing my gun.

Emiya summons his bow and blows through a wall on our left easily, then indicates a spot to me on the forward wall, about eleven feet beside the door, and 3/4th the way up the wall. “There’s humans past this. Be ready to fight,” he warns us mentally.

I step up. “Let’s do this here and now.” I feel mana from Ritsuka flood me and level my gun with a surge of energy, “Fire!” The bullets tear into the wall and there’s one moment where they’re there in the wall, stuck on the bounded field, still pushing forward but not moving, like watching a fish try and break free from a net, then the bullets win and the wall shatters in a mass of metal and magic shrapnel. Emiya throws up a shield that looks like flower petals to me between us and the debris, and the second the initial burst is over, he dives in through the haze of dust. We all go with him, weapons ready. And he was right—there are people. About six mages sit at workstations, two of them already on their feet, shouting warnings and sending spells our way. There are four guard on our right side, and I can hear more people in the next room too. The first mage up summons a line of long needles, and is tactical enough to send them flying not at Emiya, but at Ritsuka past all of us. I move to deflect them, but Robin does the same ahead of me, furious, knocking them out of the way with his bracer and drawing on the mage who sent them, sending a bolt from his crossbow into their shoulder. The next one is smarter, summoning two golems from the ground to buy time. Robin takes a shot at one just before Emiya physically collides with it, ripping it to shreds with his shortswords, then spinning on his heel and taking the head off the second one. Panicked, the mage starts to cast another spell, but I hit him in the side before he can, and he goes down. It is real hard hitting someone deep enough with a gun that they go down for good, but don’t die, but I am tryin’ my best here. For the little boss.

The other four mages are all up now, and the guards have drawn their guns. King David’s gone in a flash, reappears by the heavily armored group, and starts taking them down with a shepherd’s staff which has to be one of the most cool things I’ve ever witnessed. He’s so floaty. Keeps springboarding off their machine guns when they try to take a shot and kicking them in the head, spinning around in the air and bringing his staff down right on top of another’s helmet. Springboards off that one’s chest as they fall back, then off the first one he hit too to project himself towards the last two, ramming his staff into both their necks at once.

Pretty sure he’s got that covered, I turn my attention back to the remaining four mages. One of them has summoned an arc shield around herself and the woman next to her, while the other is firing bolts of energy at Emiya and Robin from inside, and the other two have split up, one using mana to accelerate their own movement and try to move to flank us, the other getting some distance and trying to coordinate with the others by firing off stuns at range. He actually gets a hit on Emiya’s sword when the guy goes to deflect it in the middle of bringing down a golem and dodging another bolt, not catching it’s a stun in time, but he shakes it off somehow almost instantaneously—That’s right. The bounded field didn’t do much to him before, did it? Or not for long. Maybe he did know what that was. He’s good at that kind of thing. I call behind me to Salieri to take care of the flanker, and take a shot at the guy firing stuns. He manages to summon a shield fast enough to deflect my first shot, but the second one shatters it, and the third slams him in the shoulder and knocks him hard against the far wall hard enough he goes down.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Salieri pull what looks like violin strings made of blood from out of his own neck, and use his sword like a bow. Bursts of magic slam into the floor in front of the mage trying to flank us, and they fall partway through the floor and are left unable to dodge the last shot, which slams them squarely in the head and leaves them unconscious. I hope. Haha shit. We forgot to tell him Ritsuka pleaded with us to go non-lethal, huh? Whoops…

Ahead of me, the mage in the shield realizes that hitting Emiya isn’t going to work, and takes a shot at the unconscious lancer on his shoulder instead to throw him off. This has the opposite effect. Emiya barely rotates to keep the guy on his shoulder from being shot, then flings his shortswords at the barrier with so much force it shatters, and he’s in there almost as fast, catching the mage by the throat and flinging her into the far wall. Robin slides in and sweeps the feet out from the other, then knocks her unconscious with an elbow.

“Next room!” calls Emiya, indicating the same door I heard noise behind myself. The faster we go, the less chance they have to set up defenses. It occurs to me all of a sudden we have not assigned someone to bodyguard Ritsuka—a potentially fatal oversight—and slide back to stay with her as ahead of me, Emiya takes down the next door.

“Stay close, okay?” I ask her, trying to reassure her because she looks incredibly overwhelmed. Guess for your average teenager this is a whole lot of intense violence.

“Y-Yeah,” she manages, a little pale.

Shit.

“Hey, Salieri,” I call to him mentally, “Forgot to mention—Ritsuka bein’ a soft-hearted teenager, really wants us to kill as few folks as possible.”

“I’ve been informed,” he responds the same way, “She begged me to be merciful when I went to attack.”

I check with the senses I have as a servant to see if I can pick up the sound of the guy breathing from here. I can. Damn, I think, watching Salieri follow the others, And you held back. Guess you really like her too.

“Don’t worry—we’re doing what we promised,” I tell Ritsuka, “I can hear the heartbeats. –We’re holdin’ back.”

That seems to reassure her, and she gives me a nod. I pick her up and run after the others. They’re already breaking into a fight when I make the door. Less people here—just a couple security officers guarding the room, two people working tech diagnostics of some kind at terminals connected to a very large databank, plus one mage who seems to be overseeing things. The tech workers have taken one look at us and gone for the smartest human solution—an attempt to surrender—and curled up under one of the desks with their hands over their heads. The mage is shouting at them, and us, and security. One of the security members tries to shoot us, but King David lands a shot from his slingshot down the barrel faster than he can pull the trigger, and the weapon explodes on the guy. Emiya launches a couple swords at the other and pins him to a wall. The mage throws up a hand and starts to summon something, but I cap him in the knee and he falls to the ground cursing, then gets a kick to the head from Robin that lays him flat.

Beside us, Emiya flips the desk the tech workers are under and sends it skittering across the room and they both scream and try to crawl back. He’s way too fast to avoid, though, and darts past them, hitting them both behind the neck in passing, and they collapse, unconscious.

Emiya informs us mentally we’re almost to the core research station. That means probably a lot of people.

“When we get there, we’ll be able to find out if they summoned the last one?” checks Ritsuka.

“Probably,” comes Emiya’s reply, “Unless they’ve predicted us and flushed the system, we should be able to, so the faster we go in, the better.”

“Do you think they know where we are right now? The defenses have been surprisingly uncoordinated,” says Robin, flexing his fingers absently to keep them limber.

“There’s something wrong with security,” agrees Emiya, “Like we guessed before. Whatever is happening, it’s clearly deliberate, and I think it’s likely at this point we can agree it’s not a trap—it’s someone working towards their own goal.”

“Oh yeah! There definitely is! Someone was helping me earlier,” cuts in Ritsuka, “—I forgot-“

“-You forgot?” asks Robin.

“So much happened!” says Ritsuka, “But yeah, you were right,” she adds, turning to Emiya, “Someone is either helping us, or trying to hurt Ur-shanabi—or both—because they opened the door to Salieri’s cell for me, and sent me a message to go in.”

“Oh my god and she went,” says Robin so quiet only I can hear him. I feel him. You’re so nice but that sounds like such an obvious trap, I think, feeling the same distressed emotion I hear in Robin’s voice.

She reads the look on our faces. “Well, it worked! And they didn’t try and hurt me at all,” she pleads, “So my intuition was right!”

“I understand trusting your gut, and I respect that,” says Emiya very tiredly, “But please. Don’t do that in every suicidal situation that presents itself to you?”

“—Either way, that’s good, right?” says Ritsuka, “It helps us.”

“It does,” concedes Emiya in an exhausted done, “Probably, anyway. I wish you’d given us the full version earlier, because we really can’t postpone hitting the hub any longer without giving them way too much time to flush information or prepare. Once we’re out, please tell us everything.”

“Right,” says Ritsuka with a nod, serious now, “Sorry.”

He returns the nod. Then gets an annoyed  look on his face. “…Shit, if whoever is attacking Ur-shanabi is tapped in enough they’re communicating openly and controlling security feeds and doors for extended periods of time, we might run into trouble trying to hit the security station to find organization heads. We might not be able to access their information there at all.”

Oh. Shit… “What then?” I ask, “We still try and figure it out if that fails?”

“It’ll be dangerous to try and comb the whole building, if it comes that,” offers Salieri thoughtfully, “We should move preemptively if we can.”

“He has a point,” agrees Emiya. He considers. “Robin, you’re by far the best scout here. You should split off and try and find any head offices or command centers they have, or any leads on where leadership might be that you can find. If security is totally down, that’s the best shot we’ve got.”

Robin gives a nod and flips up his hood.

“Will you be okay alone?” Ritsuka asks worriedly.

“Sure he will,” I answer for him, “I never knew anybody better at keeping a low profile in a tight situation.”

Robin snorts and gives me a smile. “Something like that. –Who’s taking the composer?”

“I can,” says King David, happily taking Mozart from Robin and slinging him over both shoulders like he’s carrying a sheep. I feel like maybe I oughtta volunteer, since I ain’t at all so far, but I’m even shorter than King David…

“Alright. Best of luck,” says Robin with a two-fingered solute. He activates May King and vanishes.

“Okay!” Ritsuka calls after him, “But if you get into trouble, call to me, and I’ll use a spell!”

I hear him laugh quietly. “Well if that ain’t familiar,” he says, the sound of a smile in his voice, and he’s gone then.

“Okay—let’s be quick,” says Emiya, to the rest of us, “Last time they figured out where we were, they sent yokai after us.”

[esterzach]

Just a flash of thought

Remember the first years of skype communication and chatting? We had so much fun back then. Especially for an introverts like me who dreaded the communication with people in real life, scared shitless not to be judged or laugh at, there was some sort of honesty and exposure, that was  lacking in real life because you are expecting the judgemental look of the people in front of you or the conversations after behind your back mostly because you have heard them and know how people can be extremely cruel about it. The lack of fear with this new form of communication gave  some sort of freedom and new friendships that in a way sometimes were much stronger and productive, than many of your usual communications of the people around you. They were fun. So many times in those conversations were born moments you remember and laugh about years later, a sort of creativity is unleashed, crazy ideas, embarrassing thoughts you usually would never share because they would sound ridiculous if they are not formed properly under pressure of the need of immediate response in a face to face conversation. These additional seconds of minutes time to cool down and not to react to something  that may annoy you, kept these friendships for years and they were above stupid fights or being angry with someone. They were about a network of people from all kinds of places and and levels of society, who were there for you, without any other predetermined conditions. It was enough one common interest. And a new friendship was born. There was some sort of purity about them. We were far away from each other and no one expected anything from you, but your thoughts and brain and your time, and these were the most precious things you could give. Also the help was there at all times, a few sentences away, you could always ask for help, advise or just rant about how bad you feel. I miss those people, we lost the connection because of facebook and other social media. We expressed opinions and started to be judged upon them. A random thought thrown out there became a reason for mistrust and suspicious. Truly cancerous machines, that destroyed those relationships, even though the expressed opinions most probably were vague random thoughts that don’t define you in any way. There was no likes, dislikes, votes, or hearts, the reactions were words or smiling faces easily accessible.

There were so many downsides to this… I guess, but… we were also learning. Time lost, knowledge gained. Less judgement. Less stress. Less fear. Conversations with likeminded, with people with different opinions, that made you think. And as if there were less offended, triggered, and almost no filters and censorship. Showing a middle finger to someone didn’t make you the enemy, it was an opinion a reaction to something you said, not to your personality. And someone we understood it. It was something to laugh about, to think, to apologise maybe.

Now… it’s all about appearance again, and that kills so many ideas. And so much of the fun. And also made me think about the times when people used only letters to communicate long distance. But because a letter takes so much time to get to it’s recipient, people knew this will be an impression that would last and they took an effort in creating it. It unleashed creativity, they were careful with the language, with the words. They created masterpieces and put all their love in it. And time. As per usual the only thing that could measure value. This part never changed. I really don’t know why people pretend to forget it these days. I feel we need to be more honest and less offended. But how the hell we could go back with this competitive form of communication where everything is about being above the others, instead of being human. How do we get back to be effective, instead of aiming to be right all the time?...

[hlcreators]

AUTHOR REC: mediawhore / @mediawhorefics 

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The Murmur of Yearning (93k)

Four years ago, Harry Styles was forced into a marriage of convenience to enrich and ally both his and his promised's families. The sudden, and slightly suspicious, death of the Marquess of Haxshire, however, brings great disturbance to Crescentfield Hall and, as his late's husband's closest male relative, Harry unexpectedly finds himself the head of a family he never felt he belonged to. Between a meddling distant cousin hellbent on inserting himself in Harry’s life, his wicked and mistrustful mother-in-law and his late husband’s advisors refusing to help or take him seriously, Harry struggles in the fight to keep what he’s earned and make the Estate finally feel like home.

Luckily, he doesn’t stand completely alone and finds himself an unlikely ally in Mr Tomlinson, the elusive Land Stewart who has been taking care of the property in the shadows for years. Louis Tomlinson is caring, patient, and unlike everyone else, he doesn’t seem to think Harry committed a murder.

‘Sup (6.7k)

Gemma really wants her little brother to sign up for a dating app and get back in the game after a messy divorce. Harry thinks he’s way too old to swipe. They compromise to devastatingly embarrassing results.

Meanwhile, all Louis wants is to finish the play he’s been commissioned to write, but one of the regulars at his local coffee shop keeps distracting him.

ft. older larry, pushy gemma, harry being a disaster gay and silver fox louis.

Tired Tired Sea (113k)

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

The Blood of Words (33.7k)

Louis Tomlinson hasn’t sworn off relationships per se. He just doesn’t think he’s quite ready for one yet, despite his therapist’s encouragements. He’s comfortable in his position as editor for Styles Publishing and he’s happy to focus on his career while he gives himself more time to heal.

Enter his CEO’s brother, a boxer with a heart of gold who is determined to carve himself a space in Louis’ life and, more importantly, his heart.

Peace In Your Arms (1.5k)

The happily ever after ... Or a series of TEC codas 

the dead things we carry (25k)

September ‘49 He hasn’t seen him since that day in France, that horrible muddy day where for one terrifyingly long second, Louis really thought he was going to die. He winces with the phantom pain, the hand not holding his cane going to his stomach automatically, remembering the franticness, the tenderness, of Harry’s hands while Louis was bleeding out.

This is the man who saved Louis’ life.

For one second, Louis fears Harry won’t recognise him, but his eyes widen when he turns to his left and they meet Louis’. He takes a step forward, reaching for him with a shaky hand before stopping himself.

“Louis,’ Harry says with a shudder and Louis doesn’t think his name has ever carried more weight.

This is the only man Louis ever thought about kissing for real.

“Oh,” Mrs. Padley says, clearly taken aback. “You two know each other?”

There are some things people never fully come home from. Until, one day, if they’re lucky, home comes to them.

Things Gone Cold (24k)

"your heart is warm for things gone cold.”— Sophocles, Antigone

With his soulmate’s thoughts about him written on his skin and the world’s eyes trailing his every movement, Harry Styles is having a bit of a rough time releasing his second album in peace. And that’s not even counting the breakup. Or the car crash.

Through Eerie Chaos (102k)

For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.

The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.

Sleep It Off (844)

I've felt better ! Hello 2017 !!

What do you mean he’s coming? (15k)

When Harry accepted to be his sister’s Maid of Honour, despite how non-traditional of a choice he was, he didn’t think writing a speech for the wedding reception would be this hard. Now, not only does he have less than two weeks left to find something moving and inspirational to say, but Gemma just confided in him that her old childhood best friend is going to be in attendance. The one who moved to LA and they haven’t seen in fifteen years because he was too busy becoming an Academy Awards winner. But hey, no pressure. It’s just Louis Fucking Tomlinson.

Harry is screwed.

a fully armed battalion (to remind you of my love) (5.6k)

“He was flirting with you by the way,” Niall says casually once he’s finished saying goodbye to Louis and he’s joined Harry outside.

“No he wasn’t,” Harry replies automatically, feeling his heart clench at the thought. Was he?

Niall simply raises a mocking eyebrow in response before wrapping his scarf twice around his neck.

“Not that it matters!” Harry says quickly, eyes widening. “I wouldn’t care even if he did because he’s awful and the worst.”

Everyone at Hogwarts knows that Professor Styles and Professor Tomlinson absolutely despise each other. It's too bad that they're in love.

Coax the Cold (86k)

England, 1897.

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

All These Lights (34.8k)

“People vote for alphas because they’re strong and they’re not only beautiful but also mesmerizing. They make you want to give them all of your attention, make you want to beg for some of theirs back. They’re shiny, oozing sex appeal and a commanding presence, and people always want more and more. Omegas are enticing too for sure, but it’s not the same. It makes people uncomfortable. It doesn’t make them want to root for you.”

the canon fic where Harry is an omega and dreams come with a price.

wash him deep where the tides are turning (3.7k)

"When Harry finally tells Louis about his family’s curse and the true love spell that broke it, they’ve been dating for seven months, nineteen days and about twelve hours and Louis’ cock is buried deep inside his arse."

Part two of a practical magic au.

a long way down (to the bottom of the river) (24k)

“ Most people would call Harry silly for believing in curses. Childish would also be a probable insult thrown his way. In their little town full of little people, Harry’s whimsical nature and beliefs mean that he’s subjected to frequent judgemental looks and whispers. It doesn’t usually bother him. Most people don’t know about the magic thrumming through his veins or about how powerful words can truly be. Most people don’t carry around their ancestors grief like a burden. They don’t have to pay for deeds hundreds of years old like Harry and his family have. They get to love freely without fear.

Harry and his kin aren’t so lucky.”

a practical magic au in which Harry and his sister accidentally kill her abusive boyfriend with magic and Louis is the D.I working the case.

loose lips sink ship all the damn time (not this time) (39k)

“Louis Tomlinson is gay,” Fiona announces and she sounds calm at least. “That’s not a scandal,” Nick replies automatically even though he feels slightly sick. He needs to call Louis back. Now. “No,” Fiona agrees quickly. “But his underage gay sex tape is.” The one where Louis is outed via a sex tape he made before the X-Factor and Nick can't resist flying to America to give him a shoulder to cry on. Told through flashbacks, this is a story of getting together and getting back together.

all that i’ll ever need is in your eyes (4.2k)

Louis has known he's going to marry Harry Styles since he was eighteen years old. Five years later, he has the perfect proposal planned. Too bad he can't help blurting it out while they're detained at the mall.

hi hater, kiss kiss (3.8k)

Nick has had a crush on Louis Tomlinson ever since he first saw him perform on the x-factor. Almost four years later, he's finally accepted that their ongoing, unstoppable feud is the only thing the two of them will ever share. One game of Call or Delete with Niall Horan, however, starts to shake this belief.

your bones illuminate (5.4k)

High School AU Snapshots of Harry and Louis' relationship through their last year of sixth form. Warning: There is no plot. Only fluff.

the last people standing (at the end of the night) (7.4k)

Sequel to the greatest pretenders (in the cold morning light)

A year after his undercover assignment ended, Louis should finally feel at peace. With Cowell & Co finally dead or behind bars, his life is more simple than ever. It's too bad his feelings can't be buried as deep as the people he's lost.

An undercover cops AU

you think fashion is your friend, my friend (fashion is danger) (27k)

"Louis has one rule, and one rule only, that he simply refuses to break. He forbids himself to be attracted to anyone he might work with. No wanking to models who might wear his clothes! It’s hardly fair, considering he spends 95% of his time working with the most attractive men on the planet, but his career is more important. Besides, in Louis’ experience, it always leads to disaster. Harry Styles makes respecting the rule really damn hard though and Louis is not quite sure why."

the one where Louis is a famous British designer and Harry is the clumsy, most likely straight model that makes his heart race.

the greatest pretenders (in the cold morning light) (41.5k)

undercover cops/the departed au

Louis and Nick are on two different sides of the law and mobster Simon Cowell is not the only person they have in common. The one where Louis is an undercover cop and Harry is the court-ordered shrink who refuses to prescribe him Valium.

[uncloseted]

Hey! I’m the anon (and also Gay!Bama anon) who sent the asks about BPD and being rejected by that closeted guy. I guess the reason I think I have BPD is because I’m in my 20’s now, and I just have issues with perceived rejection for whatever reason. Anytime someone rejects me or something, I get really depressed and question myself a lot, or I question my worth, and it’s over things that should not be a big deal, but to me they feel like the end of the world. It’s like I have no emotional skin, if that makes sense, so everything hurts more than it would someone who is normal. It’s just so hard sometimes. I get so emotional or upset over things that there’s no need in being that upset over. I just wish I could change it, but I can’t. I feel like I’ve destroyed a lot of potential relationships and also friendships by overreacting and it makes me feel so crazy. (1/2)

(2/3) (Gay!Bama anon) I think it might be because my Dad and me always had a difficult relationship, and now that he’s gone things are really more difficult than before. I started going back to therapy and I’m about to go back to school to finish up my degree, but I just wish I could manage these feelings better. The only way I have been able to deal with them is by either numbing them with alcohol, drugs, or fulfilling them with anonymous encounters, or just cutting myself off from other people, so that way I have nothing to react to. It just really sucks because I’m so lonely all the time, but I don’t know what else to do about it other than that. I used to self harm to help me cope with my feelings, because then I could hurt myself and not hurt the people in my life by lashing out over trivial things, like irrelevant rejection or changing plans. It feels like every small thing is a seed, from which sprouts a tree of paranoia and depression.

(3/3) (Gay!Bama anon) I also have had such a hard time trying to figure out my plans for a career and goals because I’m always switching them up, because one personality trait might take the forefront, but then that could change and that influences how I feel about something or what I want to do. I just wish I could turn all of these feelings off for a while, or something, and just be like calm or something.

Hi Gay!Bama anon!  Always happy to see you in my inbox, although I’m sorry to hear that you’re struggling. The fact that I know it’s you and I know you’re in your 20s changes my answer slightly.  

There are a number of symptoms that need to be present to be diagnosed with borderline personality disorder; rejection sensitivity is definitely one of them, but not the only one.  The DSM-5 requires five or more of the following symptoms for a BPD diagnosis:

Chronic feelings of emptiness

Emotional instability in reaction to day-to-day events (e.g., intense episodic sadness, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days. Generally, these are out of proportion to the event that triggered them)

Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment (e.g., calling a friend/partner/family member several times a day during working hours and getting upset when they don’t answer)

Identity disturbance with markedly or persistently unstable self-image or sense of self (e.g., frequently and suddenly changing goals, beliefs, vocational aspirations, and sexual identity, or assuming the identity of people they’re close to)

Impulsive behavior in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, gambling, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating, committing crimes)

Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)

Pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by extremes between idealization and devaluation (also known as "splitting"- basically, thinking a person is the best person ever, the love of your life, your best friend, someone with no faults, and then switching to thinking the person is the worst person ever, who has never cared about you, who has no redeeming qualities.  This typically results in alternating between over-involvement with the person and withdrawal from the person)

Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-harming behavior

Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms (typically only lasting hours or days, and triggered by an external stressor.  Dissociative symptoms may include feeling like your body is unreal or altered in a strange way, feeling that the outside world is unreal, and illusions).

People with BPD will also typically have a compromised ability to recognize the feelings and needs of other people, and have intense, unstable, and conflicted relationships that are marked by mistrust and neediness.  It’s also important that these symptoms have persisted over time and across different situations.

If that doesn’t resonate with you, there are a number of other different conditions that result in being particularly sensitive to rejection, including social anxiety, depression, generalized anxiety, ADD/ADHD, eating disorders, and childhood trauma are just a few things that could cause a fear of rejection.  I would talk to your therapist about this symptom and ask for help coming up with some coping mechanisms.

If all of that does sound like you, I would talk to your therapist about a possible BPD diagnosis and potentially a referral to a therapist who specializes in dialectical behavioral therapy.  DBT is the most studied and effective treatment for BPD, so it’s a good place to start if that is what you’re struggling with.  In the meantime, you can learn the principles of DBT on your own and try to begin applying them to your life.

DBT combines mindfulness with techniques for distress tolerance, emotional regulation, and interpersonal effectiveness.  Having a therapist and attend group therapy sessions are an important part of a full course DBT.  However, there are several exercises you can try at home:

Keeping a Diary

One of the easiest things you can do at home is to start tracking your behaviors.  Note any self-injurious or life threatening behaviors, behaviors which indirectly cause harm to yourself or others, and quality of life issues.  Write down any triggers you’ve noticed.

Mindfulness

There are a few different types of mindfulness exercises you can try.  Since you mentioned that you want to be able to turn your feelings off, trying meditation might be a good place to start.  There are some good apps, like Headspace and Calm, that can help you learn how to meditate and encourage you to practice meditation, and there are also a ton of videos on YouTube that do the same.

DBT encourages the concept of “radical acceptance”- the idea that one should face situations, both positive and negative, without any judgement.  Try to let go of fighting reality and accept a situation for what it is.  When you’ve accepted a situation, then you can figure out how to change it.

You can also try using “what” skills when practicing mindfulness; these are observe, describe, and participate.  They’re “what” you do when you’re practicing mindfulness. Nonjudgementally paying attention to the present moment is an important component of DBT, so the first thing you can do is observe.  Try to nonjudgementally observe your environment within and outside of yourself.  Notice the feelings you’re experiencing, and then try to let slide off of your mind.  Next, describe: express what you observed, either to someone around you or to yourself.  Try to use your five senses to put words to what you’re observing.  What can you see? Hear? Smell? Taste? Feel?  Finally, participate: try your best to be fully focused on and involved in any activity that you’re doing.  When your mind wanders, gently pull it back to the task you’re currently doing.

Distress Tolerance

One of the goals of DBT is to help people develop the ability to calmly recognize negative situations and decide if and how to address them.  It’s important to learn how to be distressed without becoming overwhelmed or hiding from that feeling.

TIPP is one of the fastest and most popular distress tolerance skills, since it alleviates distress quickly.  Tip the temperature of your face by splashing it with very cold water, intensely exercise for 20 minutes, do paced breathing- breathe in for four seconds and our for six to eight seconds, and then do progressive muscle relaxation- starting from the top of your body, tense and relax each muscle group until you get to your toes.

You can also distract yourself from unpleasant emotions using ACCEPTS.  Engage in activities that you enjoy, contribute by helping others, compare yourself to people who are less fortunate or how you used to be when you were in a worse state, evoke a different emotion by putting on a happy song or watching a comedy special, push away your situation in your mind, and put something else first by thinking about something else, and finally, create sensations that are intense, such as holding an ice cube or eating spicy food.

Another thing you can try when you’re in distress is to IMPROVE the moment.  Imagine relaxing scenes, things going well, or other pleasing scenarios, find meaning in what you’re feeling, pray, if you’re religious, relax your muscles using the progressive muscle relaxation we talked about above, do one thing at a time, and focus all your attention on it, vacation if you can (by taking a break from the situation), and encourage yourself.  Tell yourself it’s possible to make it through your current situation and cope with it.  You can be your own best cheerleader.

Emotional Regulation

Since people who have BPD frequently have intense emotions, it can be helpful to learn how to regulate those emotions.

First, try identifying and labeling your emotions.  Tune in with yourself and ask yourself what you’re feeling.  Is it anger? Fear? Sadness?  Then, you can try to change unwanted emotions using opposite-reactions.  With opposite-reactions, you do the opposite of the urge you’re feeling in the moment.  For example, if you want to isolate yourself, instead, reach out to a friend.  

Fact-checking is also an important technique- ask yourself, “do the facts warrant the intensity of the response I’m feeling?”  Then ask yourself, “what is the event prompting my emotion,” “what are my interpretations and assumptions about the event, and are those true?”, “am I assuming a threat? How likely is it to actually occur?”, “what’s the disaster? How can I cope well with it?”, and “does my emotion or intensity fit the facts?”  There’s a sample fact-checking worksheet that you can find here: http://edencounseling.com/resources/dbt-emotional-regulation-group-4-handouts.pdf

If your facts are correct and the situation is the problem, then you can problem solve.  First, identify your goal in solving the problem- what needs to happen for you to be okay, and what’s reasonable?  Then, brainstorm as many solutions as you can come up with, without being critical of your ideas. Choose a solution that fits your goal and is likely to work, using a pro/con list to decide if necessary. Act on your decision, and then evaluate if it worked.  If it didn’t work, go back to the “choose” stage and pick a different solution to try.

Interpersonal Effectiveness

Interpersonal relationships can be difficult for people with DBT, so it’s important to learn how to ask for what you need, how to say no, and how to cope with interpersonal conflicts.  There are three techniques in this module: DEAR MAN, GIVE, and FAST.

The DEAR MAN technique focuses on conveying your needs to someone else. Start by describing your situation using specific, fact-based statements about a recent situation.  Then express the emotions experienced when the situation occurred, why the situation was a problem, and how you feel about it. Assert yourself by clearly and specifically requesting the behavior change you would like. Reinforce your position by explaining to the person what the positive impacts of changing their behavior might be for them. Mindfully focus on the situation, without seeking validation, and redirect the conversation back to your main point when it seems to be diverting. Appear confident and assertive, even if you’re not feeling confident or assertive. Finally, negotiate with the person to come to a compromise that both parties are happy with.

The GIVE tool focuses on relationship maintenance, whether that’s with friends, family, co-workers, or romantic partners.  It is used in conversations. Use gentle language, free of put-downs, sarcasm, or judgement, even as a joke. Be as interested as you can in what the other person is saying.  Give them your undivided attention by making eye contact and asking questions.  Really listen to them, don’t just wait your turn to talk. Validate their situation, either through words, body language, or facial expressions.  Often, people just want to be heard and for someone to understand what they’re going through. Finally, try to adopt an easy manner: do your best to appear calm and comfortable during the conversation.  Use friendly humor and smile.

The FAST skill focuses on maintaining your self-respect.  Be fair to yourself and to the person you’re talking to. Don’t apologize more than once, and only apologize for things that are your fault.  Stick to your values- determine what you believe and stand by it, without letting other people sway your decisions. Lastly, be truthful. Lying can only damage relationships and reduce the respect you have for yourself.

I know that’s a ton of stuff I’ve just thrown at you, so if you’re still with me, thank you!  You don’t have to adopt all of these skills at once or even at all.  Getting good at just one or two of them will improve your life.  A therapist will be able to help you practice these different skills so that when you need them, they’re already in your mind.  Good luck!  I hope you get the support you need and that things start looking up for you soon.

[crawgluvr4]

(warnings: flashbacks of csa, physical abuse, and sexual abuse.)

ana invents the drift within a year of the start of the crisis, contracted by first the egyptian military and then the american, to help them chase a pipe dream. 

something as big as the kaiju to defeat them. something out of a movie, a giant robot capable of safely dispatching the monsters. a familiar tale. they do not say why they need human pilots but it has a lot to do with human judgement and also propaganda. she obliges because the world is on the line.

ana invents the drift, allowing two people to share the neural load of piloting a machine hundreds of times their size. concurrently, the US government plows through five hundred disposable soldiers and get two worth using. she meets them once before the test and she is surprised at how immediately she finds herself caring about their wellbeing. she tells the doctors that the drift will not discriminate between current and past thought, that all memories and thoughts will be shared, and the two soldiers must be aware of this. it’s a huge risk to their health. the doctors nodded their heads and agreed with her and said of course and yes and they fully understand the risks. and she, young, foolishly trusted them to put empathy before efficiency. to put care before brute force. 

neither man enters the drift knowing the burden of it, neither are prepared for the overwhelming surge of memories that will occur. telepathy is a vague concept. you tell a soldier desperate to save the world, one of two of five hundred that survived a procedure designed to make them untouchable - you tell him they’ve invented a telepathic method of controlling something capable of destroying the monsters decimating the world and he will go for it. they both do. no matter what, they would have agreed. 

but it would have been nice to know what was coming. 

gabriel takes right and jack takes left. the helmets have not been refined yet and the neural gel is sickening and it takes jack longer to learn to breathe in it than they would like. ana is as ever the only one concerned for them and uses all the threat she can muster to give them time to adjust. she knows if this is successful she will have much less weight because she legally will have to sign over her research, but they will still need her. for efficiency. 

they’re both nervous but this is before they know anything, so gabriel comes across as cold and focused and jack comes across as confident and a bit arrogant. it's the surface personality each will maintain throughout the rest of their lives until the jaeger explodes in the mediterranean sea. gabriel does it because he wants people to trust his judgement, and jack does it because he wants people to believe in him. it's a roundabout method to the same goal; something they always manage to do. 

jack gets used to breathing and gabriel cracks a smile through his otherwise stern facade, which makes jack nervous in a better way, because he’s not quite acknowledging that he’s basically in love with gabriel. which is fine, because in the past three months since their briefing on the jaeger mission he has been practicing deflecting his thoughts so gabriel wont read them, something he is now uncomfortably good at. this will later be a fatal flaw of his - deflection. not thinking about what needs to be thought about. when drifting becomes refined jack will immediately master the ability to deflect and wall off thoughts and memories, and as such become a template for an ideal drift partner. but for now he is twenty-one and still really truly believes that despite how the government has treated him in the past year that they are telling the truth right now. 

ana's hands tremble as she sets up the machines for the handshake. she has no idea what is about to happen because she is nearly twenty-four and probably the most sensible person in the world right now but her mistrust is not yet enough either. she will regret ignoring the voice that tells her that, despite barely knowing these men, she should talk to them herself about the danger. 

gabriel gives them the all clear. jack watches him and follows suit a moment after. ana inputs the command to initiate neural handshake and says “neural handshake initi-” and doesn’t get to finish it before the computers go wild. 

when you enter the drift there is two seconds of silence as the minds sync. if two pilots are incompatible enough the drift will drop and nothing of importance will be shared, just a moment of disorienting silence. when pilots are compatible, this period is the calm before the storm. after the drift is developed properly people will be trained to think slowly. when overwatch scrabbles itself together years after its fall the training will be largely abandoned in lieu of efficiency and jack will think about the irony of this first and pass the thought onto gabriel. as it stands they have two seconds before jack suddenly thinks “what-” and the memories follow like the tail of a comet. 

what happens is this; two decades of memories, of things neither had ever intended to share, of memories forgotten to their mind, are shared in the span of twenty seven excruciating seconds. 

gabriel sees:

his father come in from the fields and he’s angry so angry because one of the machines broke down today and he won’t take it into town to fix it because he has some sense of pride or something and he knows by the look on his mothers face what his father is going to do, to vent his frustrations he takes a knife and starts cutting up the trees in the forest but then feels so bad he breaks down and cries. the way his fathers hands are only ever used to hurt to scar and to molest. the way the fields look like when it’s night and you stare from the crack of the barn door and try try as you can to leave your body and leave what is being done to you here. his sister’s silhouette on the porch. don’t forget to write.

which makes no sense because as long as he remembers gabriel has lived in the city. 

jack sees:

a loving family that accepts their son when he comes out as their son and cannot understand why he tries to kill himself when he's sixteen, and when he leaves for the military they still dont understand but its the same thread. don't forget to write. he doesn’t write and he doesn’t talk about his relationship with the much older girl his mother was so fond of because she was so polite to her face despite the cruel things she would say to gabriel about her. about how nobody in his family was really there for him, just her, and when she tells him he’s so mature for his age and how good he is in bed for his age he can only take it as the compliment a child feels it is. and he can only blame himself so desperate he is for a different kind of validation and then the guilt of not finding his family’s support enough and seeking it elsewhere drives him off the edge and he can still feel it, the horrible drag of metal through skin and muscle and veins. the way his mother had held his hand and said please don’t die, and two years later the same words as he leaves california behind because how can he tell them he can’t bear to be around her? 

which makes no sense because jack has never visited california and has never even seen the sea.

this is what the drift is. the holder of each memory loses ownership of it to the space between them, involuntary, unbidden, every scrap of pain they have ever felt flitting back and forth between them until they aren’t sure who started with what. in twenty seven seconds both receive the others lifetime of trauma imparted without will or consent, and unable to look away. and worst of all are the things that they had tucked away, forgotten long ago but still stored in some unreachable part of memory - 

gabriel holds his mothers hand at his grandmother's funeral. in whispers he hears his uncle say: why is she here, she isn't even her real kid. and his mother stiffens and goes silent but gabriel is aware she is crying, quietly. but he is young and knows nothing and she is just mourning, after all, mourning her mother. he doesn't see that uncle aside from at big family gatherings and while he is ostracised loosely otherwise in this memory nobody disagrees with him just tuts and tells him to stop that it's not the time or place. his mother is the youngest child and always was the odd one out of her siblings. 

jack remembers before his mother stopped caring and before his father turned to sexual abuse of them both; and they’re at some shopping centre he never did learn the name of and there’s a manmade river cutting through the the centre. there are swans with their babies and jack is holding his sister's hand very tightly and his mother has one hand on his shoulder and says honey you have to learn when to be gentle and when to be firm. know when you're hurting other people. and he loosens his grip and she does not tumble into the river and there are two cygnets and two parent swans and jack thinks what a happy family. the next day his father will push him up against the wall in anger because he is seven and forgot to tidy his room and his mother will argue with his father but also tell jack to try to behave more. 

so what happens is: gabriel sees what jack saw, and jack sees what gabriel saw, and it takes twenty seven seconds before ana hits the emergency desync (because she does not understand what a random access brain impulse trigger is yet) during which time it feels like they are both reliving an entire lifetime. 

jack's first coherent words once they desync are “please, i'm so sorry, please, please forgive me” although it takes a lot of effort for the medical staff to parse this. 

gabriel understands immediately - because now he knows exactly how jack reacts after panic - and jack knows gabriel’s silence is not cruelty but dissociation and that he can't say anything when he is barely in his own body. 

a week later gabriel will ask jack for his forgiveness as well. years later they will almost find it absurd. something to look back on as the start of something better, maybe, just handled so poorly its almost comedic. they understand then that neither of them needed to apologise to the other for what was done to them and that at least they learned good things too, at least they learned how to protect other people from ever experiencing that again. 

but right now jack is retching and the medical staff are checking gabriel for brain hemorrhaging because it's the only real risk they know to check for. physically, he is fine, though pulse elevated and breathing somewhat shallow. the trauma is mental. ana is screaming at the chief medical officer who is fired on the spot despite receiving direct orders to push the pilot testing asap. ana will feel responsibility for this for the rest of her career, going above and beyond friendship for the two men whose trust she feels she irrevocably broke. 

they don't even think about her, in this moment, all but alone despite the swarming medical and military staff. they are still thinking another man's thoughts. for twelve seconds after the end of the drift the psychic link remains, and though it's a messy swirl of disgust and panic and horror, there is one coherent thought: i'm so sorry you understand. 

[busghost]

Fu Hua’s very long lore

She’s more than 50,000 years old, what did you expect?

Also I cried rereading the manga for this so you better appreciate it.

VERY LONG POST

Sources

https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/1018/3

Fu Hua origin story

https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/1012/1

Story to make you cry, please read it. It’s so good.

https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/1020

Fu Hua makes a school.

https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/1011

Fu Hua kicking Schicksal’s collective ass.

https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/1005

The Second Eruption Manga because it’s connected to literally everything in the story. No I’m not exaggerating. Please read it, it’s so good.

https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/1010

Fu Hua the secret agent.

I will be spoiling parts of all of the above.

Previous Era of Civilization

Fu Hua’s story starts 50,000 years ago in her home city of Sapphire, a Honkai eruption had occurred and she had hidden from the beasts and was one of the few survivors. She was found by Himeko, the leader of Squadron V in MOTH, and she offered to teach Fu Hua how to fight the Honkai. A year later Himeko was corrupted by the Honkai and became the 7th Herrscher, the Herrscher of Flame and was killed by Kevin Kaslana. Fu Hua was the only survivor of Squadron V after their leader became a Herrscher and was mistrusted by other members of MOTH, calling her the “Firewytch’s Little Bird”, because she and Himeko were close.

Later Fu Hua was assigned with a group of other MOTH soldiers to take back a mine in Australia. They were going to be given 10th Divine Key weapons as they had begun being mass produced, and told that it was a field trial for the Divine Keys. They were given an injection before the mission and sent off.

(note: there are multiple 10th Divine Keys because the 10th Herrscher took over many bodies, thus there are multiple Herrscher cores to weapons)

When they arrived they had no problems killing smaller Honkai beasts but then the massive Emperor class Honkai beast Gensha appeared and killed everyone, the Divine Keys being wielded by regular humans had no effect on such a strong Honkai beast.

When Fu Hua confronted Ganesha her Divine Key shattered and she was thrown against a building but unlike the other soldiers the metamorph ICHOR which they had injected into the soldiers before the mission took hold and Fu Hua became a MANTIS soldier, adding Honkai genes to her human DNA. Her shattered 10th Divine Key also changed form from a Xuanyuan Sword to the Grips of Taixuan.

DR. MEI also gave Fu Hua the 8th Divine Key, Fenghuang Down; it creates illusions/ dreams that Fu Hua can trap her targets in. She is also seen using it to power up normal attacks, or perform attacks that are impossible, such as cutting out a man’s tongue when she’s tied up and he tries to assault her. She also put herself/a copy of herself in somebody else’s mind using Fenghuang Down.

After this we know she fought the Honkai as a MANTIS like Kevin Kaslana, the previous era Sakura or Su did. She also took part in the final battle against the  14th Herrscher, the Herrscher of the End, on the Moon. After the previous era’s final defeat at the hands of the Herrscher of the End, Fu Hua and the remaining Humans went underground and into cryostasis to wait for the 4th Divine Key to heal the damage Honkai had done to the Earth.

Current Era of Civilization

Sometime around when human civilization reappeared was when the survivors from the Previous Era reemerged from cryostasis. When exactly isn’t shown but we are shown panels in the manga of Su and Kevin in Ancient Egypt and Rome/Greece.

Fu Hua, Fuxi, and Nuwa are in charge of aiding human civilization around China and they’ve set up base in Shenzhou. They were in charge of Project EMBER, a project meant to speed up the development of human civilization. Fuxi and Nuwa were also entrusted with a 10th Divine Key and tasked with giving it to a person of this era who could wield it, they picked a young woman with a stigmata Ji Xuanyuan. Fuxi and Nuwa also created the Phoenix image for Fu Hua to have to make her a legend

Fuxi and Nuwa weren’t MANTIS soldiers unlike Fu Hua so they would age and die. They didn’t want Fu Hua to become lonely when they were gone so they make the ELF Book of Fuxi to keep her company.

Unfortuntely because the Honkai grows with civilization Project EMBER sped up the growth of the Honkai and gave birth to the Judgement class Honkai beast Chiyou. Nuwa and Fuxi died to stop it and Ji Xuanyuan was trapped inside the beast. Project EMBER was cancelled and Fu Hua became the Immortal Celestial, Phoenix, Protector of Shenzhou to protect China because that’s what she promised she’d do.

Fu Hua also starts a school to teach people how to combat the Honkai. It was Book of Fuxi’s final request.

In the late 1400s Schicksal has solidified its control over Europe and wants more, so they decide to head east. Schicksal and the Ming Empire fight in the Eurasian steppe from 1470-1475 but then Fu Hua shows up and defeats Schicksal’s army single-handed. She also defeats Kallen Kaslana in single combat and call her out for using the Oath of Judah against humans.

Now we get to the visual novel. It’s not translated but I’ll give a brief summary of what I know from hearsay. Fu Hua is betrayed by her students and killed in an extremely gory description that includes organs outside of the body and exposed brains. Luckily a few cells are left alive, so she can heal back from that, due to being a MANTIS soldier. She sets out looking for answers as to why she was betrayed. She also meets Otto Apocalypse, who is wandering the world after Kallen’s death. I don’t know what happens beyond that.

Mihoyo please translate your shit.

Anyway, Fu Hua continues protecting civilization in Shenzhou. She also adopts and trains Cheng Lixue sometime in the 1990s but then also abandons her.

the Second Honkai War

(again seriously, read the Second Eruption Manga)

The Second Honkai War is where we see how terrifyingly powerful Fu Hua is.

When Otto mobilizes all of Schicksal to defeat Sirin, because she had gained 6 Herrscher cores and the situation had gotten really out of hand. He also calls upon his old friend Fu Hua, because Sirin has the Gem of Serenity, the core of the Herrscher of Death and Otto believes he needs the Herrscher of Death to revive Kallen.

Otto, Cheng Lixue, and Fu Hua personally confront Sirin on top of Babylon labs where they confront the Herrscher of the Void directly. Fu Hua immediately traps her in a dream world and fights her in the dream world and kills her there, making her think she’s dead. Then Otto fucks everything up by letting Sirin get in touch with God and she free’s Sirin from Fu Hua’s dream, so Fu Hua creates an attack so powerful Sirin that God has to shield her from the blow. Sirin had to be saved by deus ex machina.

Luckily Fu Hua’s punch did sever Sirin’s connection to God. Unfortunately, she burnt up so much of the 8th Divine Key she lost her memories. Sirin also left the dream world with control over some of the powers of the 8th Divine Key.

When she exits the dream world she doesn’t remember who Cheng Lixue is and Cheng Lixue sacrifices herself to let Otto escape with the unconscious Fu Hua. 

By the time the 2nd Honkai War is over, Fu Hua wakes up and runs away from Schicksal but she has nowhere else to go. She has lost a great deal of her power and is dying as well, so she has to rely on Schicksal to defend Shenzhou because her promise to do so is all she really remembers. She basically has to become Otto’s personal lackey in order to ensure her home’s safety.

In 2014, Kiana and the gang are at St. Freya and Fu Hua takes Kiana on a mission with her under the guise of it being easy. A Schicksal scientist has defected and taken the Gem of Serenity with him to neutral Singapore to escape to Anti-Entropy territory. Fu Hua has to get it back. Fu Hua kills a pervy clone of the 1st Herrscher and Kiana gets to the Gem first. Kiana is possessed by the Herrscher of the Void because the the Gem of Serenity was returned to her. (Kiana is Sirin, want that explained? Ask me or go read the 2nd Eruption Manga). Fu Hua beats her up and gets the Gem back, saving Kiana. The whole purpose of Fu Hua’s mission was actually to make sure that the Herrscher could get the Gem of Serenity.

Stuff That Happens in Game (spoilers for Chapter 4 onwards until the end of the post)

After Chapter 4 in the game Fu Hua uses the 8th Divine Key to go into Bronya’s mind to help her put her mind back together after Bronya destroys the chip in her brain to stop Cocolia from being able to mind control her.

Chapters 5 and 6 are both illusions created by the Herrscher of the Void using the small part 8th Divine Key she stole from Fu Hua in the Second Honkai War. When the Herrscher of the Void begins to awaken within Kiana at the end of Chapter 6, Fu Hua kidnaps Kiana takes her Schicksal HQ. Fu Hua fights for Otto in the beginning and captures Himeko. She uses the 8th Divine Key to heal Himeko after their fight then goes to save her friends, then Otto kills her for betraying him.

BUT all those people she’s used the 8th Divine Key on still have a copy of her in their heads. So Himeko is guided around Schicksal HQ by Fu Hua and given the means to save Kiana from the Herrscher of the Void. Bronya is saved from Grey Serpent by the Fu Hua in her head. Kiana has the Fu Hua in her head throughout ARC City until Fu Hua fights Kevin to let Kiana escape. And now Kevin has that Fu Hua as a feather.

Where does that leave us now?

At least one copy of Fu Hua still exists in feather form. Kevin says he’ll wake her up when it’s all over, in reference to defeating the Honkai.

The Fu Hua in Bronya’s head doesn’t seem to be explicitly gone.

If you’re in the “Himeko’s not dead” crowd then she’d still be there but,, Himeko.

And if it’s possible for her body to come back from near-death again then that’s a possibility but she was extremely weak when she died compared to when she healed the last time.

Anyway, Phoenix is the Hottest Thing There Is.

[nineteenninety-six]

Don’t Underestimate Me

REQUEST: Hello love! I love your writings! Would you write something where the reader is Polly's best friend (the family doesn't know her yet)and when Polly wants to involve her in the family business Tommy gets super rude and mistrusts her. But she saves Polly when she's attacked and shows him that he's wrong? Tommy is lowkey intimidated but he falls for her?:)

The only note I have for this is: hngggg

Also, this strayed from the og request a bit

WORD COUNT: 1197

(Y/N) knocked on the front door of her closest friends house, she had received an urgent phone call and ran over as fast as she could and when Polly opened the door looking fine, (Y/N) released a sigh of relief.

“You okay? You sounded worried over the phone.” (Y/N) asked her friend.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine.” Polly opened the door wider and walked back into her house

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at Polly’s answer but followed her into the house, annoyed that she ran over for no reason.

“What’s the matter then, why’d you call me?” (Y/N) shrugged off her coat and sat next to Polly on the couch.

“I wish I didn’t have to ask you but you’re the only person who can do it.” Polly sighed

“Do what?”

“The boys and I need your help.”

“‘The boys’? Your nephews?” (Y/N) had never met Polly’s nephews before, the older woman wanted to keep them separate.

“Yeah” Polly looked mildly frustrated, “Don’t think you have to do this, if you’re uncomfortable and don’t want to be involved that’s fine, just tell me.”

“Well you seem desperate and I’ll hate to let you down, so what’s the problem?”

“We need someone to go undercover and get some information from someone. We need someone who hasn’t been seen with us, someone they won’t recognise.”

“Undercover? Where?”

“There’s a club in London but don’t worry you won’t be alone. I’ll be there watching you and there will be some of Tommy’s men there as well.”

(Y/N) bit her lip as she thought it over, it sounded dangerous but Polly had helped her a lot over the years and she wanted to repay her.

“Okay” (Y/N) nodded her head, “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you!” Polly brought her into a tight hug, “C’mon, we have to go meet Tommy.”

(Y/N) felt nervous about meeting Tommy, she heard several stories about him, ranging from good to terrible and she knew he wasn’t to be messed with but it had to be done.

(Y/N) followed as Polly strut into the betting den, she struggled to keep her mouth closed as she looked around the place, never seeing anything like it in her life. Polly walked like she owned the place and judging by the number of people instantly moving out of her way and the nods she was receiving, (Y/N) assumed that she pretty much did. It was a side of Polly that she had never seen before but she liked it.

Polly came to a stop in front of an office and knocked once before she entered, not waiting for an answer. The man behind the desk didn’t seem surprised at her sudden entrance, only letting out ‘Hello, Pol’ while not looking up from the papers on his desk.

“Tommy, this is (Y/N). She going to help us.” Polly motioned towards her.

Tommy looked up at his aunt’s words and then looked at (Y/N), his gaze hard and harsh.

“No.” 

Polly scoffed, “What do you mean, ‘no’? You needed someone and I got her. What’s the problem?”

“She won’t be good enough.” Tommy sent (Y/N) a look that bordered on disgust, “Forget about it, Polly.”

“No.” Polly bit back, frustrated at her nephew, “You don’t know her, she’s great for the job, Thomas.”

Tommy opened his mouth to protest but Polly cut him off, “It’s either her or you go with your second plan. Which is it?”

By the annoyed look on Tommy’s face, (Y/N) could tell that Polly had made a point.

“Fine, but you’re the one who’s in charge of her,” Tommy growled as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

Polly just rolled her eyes and huffed at her nephew before she turned to (Y/N) and pulled her out of Tommy’s office, making sure to slam the door on the way out.

“Don’t worry about him,” Polly soothed the younger woman, “I’ll guide you and help you.”

(Y/N) simply nodded, unable to find the right words.

Two weeks later and (Y/N) was making her way into the high-class club, looking for her target. The dress that Polly got her made her fit right in so no-one gave her a second glance. Once she spotted the man she was after, she swiftly made her way over to him but glanced over her shoulder to double-check Polly was there just before she approached him.

She worked the plan perfectly and got all the information they needed but as she was finishing up she suddenly got a feeling of dread and a look over her shoulder gave her the answer. Polly was getting roughly pulled out by a man and none of the men that had been stationed around the club had noticed, so it was up to her to try and help Polly.

Quietly slipping away before the man she taking information from noticed, she quickly followed after Polly and the random man, she didn’t exactly know what her plan was but she hoped that someone else had caught on. 

(Y/N) paused after she saw them go out of one the back doors, she knew she’ll be complete vulnerable out there with no one around so she looked for a weapon of some kind. Her eyes locked on a candlestick holder, it wasn’t the best weapon but it was the only one available. 

Grabbing it, (Y/N) slowly made her way to the door and quietly opened it but she heard shouting and rapid movements, she opened the door fully and when she spotted the man pressing Polly against the wall, she sprung forward with the candlestick holder clasped tightly in her hand.

“Hey!” She yelled at the man.

The man spun around in surprise and that’s when she struck. She whacked him on the head, the man instantly crumbling down to the floor in shock and pain but when he tried to stand up and subdue (Y/N), she hit him again, knocking him out cold.

“Jesus Christ…” Polly muttered in shock.

(Y/N) stared at the body in front of her in shock as well but the sound of multiple people running towards them and shouts of their names brought her out of her stunned state. It was Tommy, John and Arthur, along with some of the members of the Peaky Blinders.

“Polly! (Y/N)!” Tommy came running towards them, gun in hand.

He checked over his aunt, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Polly nodded, “(Y/N) got here in time.”

Tommy nodded at the woman in thanks, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” 

“Arthur, you go deal with me.” Tommy waved his brother over and motioned towards the unconscious body.

He then moved over to (Y/N) and gently pried the candlestick holder she was still gripping on to, out of her hand.

“You okay?” He asked gently, seeing that she was still in shock.

“Yeah...sorry.” 

“You’re alright. You did good.” Tommy comforted her.

(Y/N) smiled at him, thankful for his support and Tommy couldn’t help but smile back. Perhaps he was too hasty with his first judgement of her. 

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Judgement Call (Din Djarin x OC)- Chapter XIX

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CHAPTER XIX: AS ABOVE, SO BELOW

Zakia was not expecting both of Greef Karga's remaining men to fall dead when blasters were drawn.

If she was being honest, she expected to be the dead one. Kuiil was safe on the last Bluurg several yards behind her, while Din and Cara both had some armor to protect their chests.

They had just made it to a ridge overlooking the town when Greef paused and sighed aloud. The trio on their feet had all tensed, and Zakia could see the hunters moving in her peripherals. Everyone had blasters drawn by the time Karga had fired and, in hindsight, it was a comical sight. Her, Din, and Cara all stood at the ready, muzzles pointed to Karga.

The Guild boss instantly relented, lifting his hands in surrender. Din straightened from his defensive position, and Zakia slowly lowered her dual blasters. Her sniper rifle hung at her shoulders, its presence a comforting weight.

"There's something you should know." Greed said, walking between Cara and Mando. Zakia took a step forward to be at Din's side, slipping both guns back into their holsters. Karga continued wordlessly, kicking blasters away from their fallen owners. "The plan was to kill you and take the kid."

Zakia lifted her shoulders. "Shocker."

"But, after what happened last night, I couldn't go through with it." Greef's gaze bounced back and forth between Din and Cara, trying to gauge their reactions. "Go on. You can gun me down right here and now and it wouldn't be a violation of the Guild code. But if you do, this child will never be safe."

As much as she wanted to speak up and say that was her desire, Zakia couldn't bring her mind around to it. Karga had indeed violated their trust- not that there was any to begin with- but he had killed his own men. She knew first-hand the effect their tiny charge had on others, and it seemed his innocence had won their old boss over as well. Zakia noticed Kuiil seemed to share her sentiment, as the Ugnaught watched the tense exchange with stony eyes.

"We'll take our chances." Cara spat, and Zakia opened her mouth briefly before snapping it shut again. She didn't want to make such a staunch declaration like Cara, but knew somewhere that the Mandalorian would trust her.

"The Imperial client is obsessed with obtaining this asset. You tried to run, but where did it get you?" Greef held his hands out, motioning to their surroundings.

"This is ridiculous." Cara hissed at Din and Zakia. The latter grit her teeth, forcing herself to gather the words she needed.

"He might be right." Zakia blurted.

Din's helmet swung towards her at the same time Cara did. An grimace was stretched across the shock-trooper's face, almost accusatory as it was directed at Zakia.

"Perhaps you should let him speak." Kuiil saved Zakia from having to form an explanation, but she kept her eyes on Din's visor nonetheless.

The Child was going to be in danger until the client was dead, and they all knew it. They could run, but for how long? It was only a matter of time before a run in went wrong, or there wasn't a second person in the trees to kill their pursuers.

"Listen. We both need the client to be eliminated. Let me take the Child to him. And then you three-"

"No." Din cut into Karga's new plan, silencing him before he had a chance to finish.

"Let's just kill him and get out of here." Cara urged.

Zakia's head snapped in her direction. As much as she had respected the shock-trooper's instinct on Nevarro, this situation was being tugged in the opposite direction. She knew Cara was worried about her chain code and the implications of it being ran. But she knew the risk when she boarded the Razor Crest, and it irked Zakia she wanted to run. They were all wanted, and would most likely end up dead if they were caught in an ambush attempt.

But if they were caught running with the Child one day, they would all be dead.

"No offence, because you're a great friend, but I think you worrying about your chain code is clouding the current state of the mission, Cara. You know, it's not that hard. If you want to leave- go. If Kuiil and I are the only ones that can see there is actually a point being made here, fine." Zakia stepped forwards, and Din dropped his blaster once she was in its path. "We can run now, but it will only be a matter of time before it happens again, and again, and again."

Cara looked to be preparing a rebuttal, but Din straightened suddenly and holstered his blaster. "Karga is right."

"What are you doing?" The shock-trooper looked at Mando, still pointing her blaster towards Greef.

"As long as the Imp lives, he'll send hunters after the Child." Din explained. Zakia nodded, hoping her eyes were conveying thanks to his.

"It's a trap." Cara reiterated, blinking from Zakia to Mando.

"Bring me." Din offered.

"Bring you?" Zakia squeaked the words at the same time Karga spoke them.

"Tell them you captured me. Get me close to him and I'll kill him." The Mandalorian's voice was steady, and Zakia could find no indications of mistrust in his body language. "You said he's stationed where your tavern used to be. There's a high chimney that climbs one of the buildings about three hundred meters away from the bar window. Zakia can set up with the rifle there as backup."

Zakia swallowed at the thought of Mando diving headfirst into the Imperial hideout. Her only reassurance was their last out facing the Imperials, where the troopers prooved more incompetent than any she had seen. However, this time he had betrayed the client. He was wanted, and there was a bounty hanging high over his head. Her own conflicts with the Imps were of little consequence- if they couldn't find out her name, how was she going to be indicted of any crime?

"That's a good idea. Give me your blaster."

Mando did so wordlessly, and turned to Zakia. "Can you get in?"

Zakia swung the rifle over her shoulder and used the scope to check for unguarded sections of the wall that surrounded the bazaar. There was a crumbling slat to the right of the entrance and around a corner, and she was sure it would make an easy entrypoint.

"Yeah."

"This is insane." Cara protested yet again.

"It's the only way." Din argued.

"Well- I'm coming with you." The shock-trooper relented, but she sounded far from happy.

"No, no no." Karga held up a hand. "That would make them suspicious."

"I don't care. I'm coming." And now the attitude had flipped.

"Tell them she caught him." Zakia said, lowering the rifle. "More likely than you. No offense."

"Fine. Then she can bring the Child." Karga tried to reason, but the entirety of their team opposed it.

"No. The kid goes back in the ship." Din asserted, looking to Kuiil. He ignored Karga's protests. "I have a plan. Kuiil, ride back to the Razor Crest with the Child, and seal yourself in. When you're inside, engage ground security protocols. Nothing on this planet will breach those doors."

The Ugnaught was already walking forward. "Here is a comlink. I will keep the Child safe." He paused, looking up at Cara. "Don't forget to cover your stripes."

With his words hanging in the air, Cara did just that. The Mandalorian stepped towards Greef, fingers brushing by Zakia's hip. "I trust you." His words were barely a whisper, slipping out beneath the modulator and rushing over Zakia like a warm wash of water.

"I know."

"Let's go."

Making her way around the bazaar's wall was simple. Zakia had done it plenty of times, sneaking around when her and Mando were younger, to mess around in the dark nights after too much to drink. The memories were her only comfort then, her legs screaming as she crept along the ground.

At the small break in the wall, she stopped to survey it. She switched her scope to thermal and directed it towards the bazaar, checking for any signatures that could belong to troopers. There was movement all about the town, but nothing indicating a hostile presence near her.

"Hey!"

Zakia whirled around, coming face to face with the exact type she had been trying to avoid. Her eyes widened as he reached for a blaster, white armor gleaming in the sun. To her relief, he failed to signal for help.

"What are you doing outside the wall?" He demanded.

Sliding an innocent look onto her face, the blonde forced her limbs to relax. "I was just-" She motioned at the flats. "Hunting.

She imagined the man beneath the obnoxious-looking helmet would be rolling his eyes. "Chain code?"

Now that, she didn't have with her. "Sure thing. Give me just a minute to find it, would you?"

The trooper sighed. "Make it quick."

He hitched his hands onto his hips, head swiveling back in the direction of the entrance to town. Zakia did her best impression of a scared woman, shuffling through her pockets one by one until the Stormtrooper looked in the right direction.

With his head turned far enough behind him, Zakia slipped a hand to her boot and forced herself to move as fast as she could. She drew the knife that was always sheather in her leg, jerking straight up and plunging the blade through the trooper's throat. She jumped out of the way of the blood splatter, yanking the vibroblade back with her.

"Damn."

Zakia shook out her hands, and wiped the blade clean before turning back to the wall. She braced her hands on the rock surface before hesitating and turning back towards the man on the ground. She considered him for a moment before biting her lip and stepping back, nearing his fallen body.

It took only a few moments to figure out how the armor went together, and Zakia quickly stripped him of it. She snatched the boots- big enough to go over her own petite ones, and dragged all the items on clumsily. It fit loosely over her own clothing, but the armor was easily tied tighter.

The entire process only took a few minutes, and Zakia ignored whatever the man's face looked like when she took the helmet from his head. She wrapped her head scarf around her face and placed the helmet over her head, feeling every ounce like she was defiling something sacred within herself.

"Awesome." She surveyed her own appearance best she could, and proceeded to haul her body over the V-shaped crack in the wall.

Zakia's rifle clattered uncomfortably against the white armor, but she pressed on until the chimney Mando mentioned came into view. While she wasn't exactly hiding, she didn't want to have a confrontation either. Her costume change served as camouflage, but not as a promise of escape.

"How the hell- oh hello." Zakia muttered to herself as she sought out a way to get herself onto the roof. There was a narrow alley between two buildings, and Zakia crept into it from the darkened alley. The normally bustling town was oddly silent, and she found herself at odds with the lack of noise.

Thankful for her vertically-challenged status, Zakia's limbs were the ideal length to fit in the crevice. They provided her with a quiet and easy solution to scale the wall. She used both hands outstretched and legs to crawl up like a spider, snorting at the image of a Stormtrooper doing so. She hauled herself onto the correct rooftop and then up its water tower, which was placed just to the left of the chimney- far enough that she could easily roll to the side and be hidden. Zakia was unaware of Din's source on that particular bit of knowledge, but she was thankful he had it nonetheless.

From her vantage point, the main drag was clear. Zakia rushed to set up her rifle, turning the thermal on to check the tavern. Sure enough, there was a trio just inside the door that looked to be Din, Cara, and Karga. Zakia sighed, watching carefully through the scope as they were apparently ushered further in. There were several other heat signatures present, and Zakia switched off her thermal when they all became visible in the long window behind the bar. It was translucent, but in a way that made individual figures apparent in the daylight.

"I don't like this." She muttered to no one in particular.

Minutes ticked by, throughout which Zakia flicked the scope from thermal to normal, to infrared with no winners between the three. Four figures now sat at the table inside the bar; the fourth she assumed to be the client. She noticed the enumerated Stormtroopers, and was annoyed at Karga's mention of four the previous night. This was closer to a whole platoon outside the hideout alone.

Zakia pulled the helmet from her head and made sure to cover her hair before looking back through the scope. When she did so, one of the figures that had been at the table previously stood, wandering to the bar. The frame and posture was unfamiliar- too broad to be Karga, and too hunched to be the Mandalorian. No curves to indicate it was Cara. She placed the crosshairs on the figures head, breathing in deeply. She waited a moment before placing her finger on the trigger, and another moment before applying any pressure.

The rifle was primed and seconds away from firing a shot when the sounds of footsteps drew Zakia's attention away. It was a large number of people moving, and she was horrified when she lowered the rifle.

Outside the tavern window was a squad of Death Troopers.

Their black armor reflected the sun in a sickly green fashion, and they all had wide-barrel blasters raised and aimed at the window. Zakia no time to think when they began shooting round after round through the window. She gasped audibly, and forced herself to refrain from sound. As long as people were still fighting to get to Mando and the group, the Child must be safe.

The sniper lowered her eyes back to the scope, searching for the three signatures that would come from Din and their crew. She was thankful to find just that, spotting the blue spot of cold that was Din's cuirass. Zakia was considering her options- spoiler, there weren't many- as a hovering, armored vehicle offloaded a full platoon of troopers onto the street.

Zakia didn't dare to try and contact Mando's com unit- the Imperials had a reputation for intercepting signals, and she would not be party to it. She just bit her lip and watched, unsure of the next possible move.

'WHOOSH'.

Zakia ducked her head down, mind flashing back to the winged beast from the previous night. A thunderous noise bore down on the town, and Zakia prayed whatever it hadn't spotted her on the way down. As it sped into view, her stomach twisted all over again.

A TIE-fighter was landing behind the armored vehicle, setting up a display of violent opposition to whatever little opportunity was left for escape. The circular top hissed open, but its position with respect to Zakia blocked her from being able to get a mark on the target. The craft blocked most of her view, and the blonde cursed. She had to get to the tavern.

Zakia scrambled down from her position as quietly as she could, slipping the Stormtrooper helmet back on when she made it to the ground. She searched around the ground, trying to figure out a way to the tavern. Zakia knew there was no back door, and getting across the main street would be impossible regardless.

"Damn." Zakia paced the alleyway, trying to think of any possible solution. There was no way for her to get back with her team, and there was no way she would be able to wipe out an entire platoon without being captured.

Searching the ground for any sign of hope, Zakia slung the rifle to her front. The Mandalorians had a covert in the bazaar, and she had never seen one before. They had to transverse the town somehow, and she doubted it was by jetpack.

"How…" Zakia leaned near the door of a small building, and paused as her eyes drilled holes into the dirt. "The sewers."

Nevarro was, underneath, a lava-formed planet. It was always hot, and the heat from the planet had to be channeled out. The only sensible way to keep it from building below the town was to channel it out. Zakia understood that homes were heated during the cold night, and the realization struck her then.

She turned to the door, knocking briefly. No answer came, and she edged it open slowly, effectively avoiding any creaking. It was a dimly lit dwelling, with an empty dinner table and kitchen area. The blonde wasted no time hustling in, and followed the seam of the wall. The grate for their heating had to be somewhere near, and Zakia needed to move.

The tinny sound of an amplified voice reached her ears, but it was too far to discern anything other than harsh syllables. "Come on, come on…."

Zakia found herself in a small bedroom before she located her target. It was tucked beneath the bed, and would be just barely wide enough to squeeze herself through. The bolts holding it in place looked old, and her vibroknife was put to use as she sliced through the brittle metal.

"Oh, thank the Makers for code violations." Zakia pulled the rifle from her shoulder and pointed its flashlight into the hole. It was dark for a few feet, but the concrete beneath was visible.

Zakia shed her armor and lowered the rifle down first, extending her arm to the full length so her gun only dropped a foot. Inhaling deeply, she dangled her legs in and allowed her body to slip down. It was incredibly claustrophobic, and her ass almost got stuck on a lip of concrete, but Zakia managed to tumble not-so-gracefully to the ground.

"Shit." She breathed upon impact.

Fortunately, she managed to keep her bearings directionally. Zakis shouldered the gun and took off in the direction she assumed the tavern was, keeping her ears open. As she neared a junction that could only be of the main pathway, she paused.

There was a sound echoing through the chambers, and Zakia was forced to cover her ears. It was shrill and familiar, and she forced herself to look up. She knew that sound...

"A speeder…"

Zakia recalled seeing a few outside the wall, and two through the scope. She doubted any civilians were authorized to leave, and the thought brought her to a conclusion.

A speeder meant one of two things:

1) Someone was coming to help them

Or

2) The Imperials had captured the Child.

And Zakia had a sinking feeling it was the latter.

_________________________________________________

Din wasn't sure when he came back to consciousness.

His limbs were heavy, and he was on the ground. Cloudy eyes blinked lazily beneath his helmet, and the resounding vibration from its impact seemed to reverberate constantly.

'CONCUSSION'

Din's brain screamed at him, but it acted as if no signals could leave it. He felt someone grab him-drag him to safety. Away from the Imps, and away from Moff Gideon. The tavern door rushed closed, and Din was propped against an overturned table. Blood trickled into his mouth and down his neck, through the stubble he hadn't had time to shave.

He wished he could feel his legs, or his arms. Something to solidify the fact he was actually awake. Everything was submerged to him, swimming in a sea of red and brown.

The sea.

It was something he hadn't seen in years. Since before the Child, and before he had ever taken the bounty from Karga. Someone else had been on the beach with him, and his brain clung to the memory as it scrambled to stay afloat in the waves of his mind.

"Oh, Mando. It's beautiful."

Zakia was standing beside him, bare feet dug deep into the sand. The Mandalorian sighed, shaking out his boots.

"It's going to look really beautiful on the floor of my ship." He returned, nudging the blonde.

Her hair was gorgeous, as it always appeared to him. It was beauty in its most natural form- curls bouncing around her shoulders and coiled more tightly than normal because of the humidity rolling off the ocean. Zakia turned to him with a smile, though only the left side of her face lifted. The right was still wounded, pink flesh just beginning to regain its function. Dark tissue lined the outside of her newest battle scar, and he could tell it pained her to smile.

In a newfound gesture of affection- they were doing that now- she leaned into his side. They had been traveling together for a few months after her injury, and had grown closer than Din thought he was capable of. Zakia was almost completely dependent upon him at first, and had grown distant once she was independent again. But nightmares plagued her, and they couldn't stay far apart on a ship that was barely made for two people. So they relied on each other. Din had someone to talk to about missions, and Zakia had someone to help her with basic tasks that she was unable to complete alone anymore.

He enjoyed the company. More than he ever thought possible. The closeness was something he had not felt since being a boy, and he reveled in Zakia's occasional contact.

"Is this okay?" She murmured.

Unbeknownst to her, Din was content. Putting on a face about the sand, but that was his job.

"It's great." Din allowed Zakia freedom as she turned further into him. She tucked her arms to her chest and pressed her face to his side. His arm lifted to hold her gently by the waist.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Mando." Zakia spoke, her voice muffled by his shirt.

"Uh... " He trailed off, unsure how to continue. "Din."

"Sorry?" Zakia looked up at him, all blue eyes and sunshine.

"My name. It's Din." He kept his gaze on the ocean, though his cheeks felt hot beneath his helm.

"Thank you." Zakia didn't push the topic or inquire on his reasoning. She just let him be, and they took in the sights together.

"Don't wear it out."

Zakia snorted, lifting her head from his cuirass. "You got it, Mando."

"Mando!"

"Mando!"

"Is he-"

"It's our only path-"

"Clear it!"

The voices came in bursts, and Din's brain protested the change of subject. The oceanside memory had been warm, and his body was cold. But the voice from his dream was there, and it dragged Din back to the surface.

"...Zak?"

"Oh, Thank Maker." The voice was far away. 

Din's hand flopped uselessly on the ground. 

"Where..?"

"I'm here, don't worry. I'm fine." Zakia's voice was close, but he could hear the concern.

"Good." He choked on what was probably his own blood, and did his best to push it down. Another face came into his view, this one with dark-hair.

Cara.

He could remember the Imps and the E-Web. The fight. But not how it ended. Din could recall the worry he'd felt about his partner, which was partially soothed as he heard her voice.

But he could barely breathe.

As his brain came back into contact with his body, the pain in his chest and stomach became more apparent. It hurt to pull in each breath. Cara was still hovering over him, and he weakly tilted his helmet towards her when she spoke.

"Zakia found the tunnels in the sewer you mentioned. She's stuck on the other side of the grate- Karga's trying-"

"I'm not gonna make it." He breathed. "Go- make Zak go with you. She d-doesn't need to be here."

"Shut up. You just got your bell rung, you'll be fine." Cara was leaning over him, eyes darting behind her every so often. He could hear a faint hissing sound, but what exactly it was escaped him.

"Cara? How is he?"

"Leave me." Din kept his voice low to avoid Zakia's detection. Wherever she was stuck waiting to be freed, she didn't need to hear. Cara noticed the blood on his cowl and he was thankful she managed to keep a straight face.

"You have too much to lose, buddy. I'm gonna need to take this thing off." Cara reached for his helmet, and Din batted her hands away.

"No. You leave me. Zakia will understand, she-she has to. You two make sure the Child gets out safely. Here."

Through a wheeze he ripped the Mythosaur pendant from its resident place on his neck. Normally it remained hidden beneath his cowl, but it was important for their escape.

"Cara!" Zakia called once again over the hissing sound, but Karga was hushing her. They couldn't be heard.

"When you get to the Mandalorian covert, you show them that. Zak doesn't know where it is… but you show them that and tell them its from Din Djarin. Tell them the foundling was in my protection, and they'll help you." Din's thoughts were far from coherent, but the connotations of their current situation hung on his shoulders.

"We can make it." Cara urged him.

Din noticed an encroaching heat, but his brain was far from acknowledging the danger.

"Protect the Child. I can hold them back long enough for you to escape. Let me have a warrior's death." He knew Cara could respect the last bit. She was a warrior too.

"I won't leave you. And if you think Zakia will, you're out of your mind."

"This is the Way."

Deafening rumbles came from both their front and backs at the same time. A Stormtrooper- this one emblazoned with red stripes down the middle of his armor, breached the door with a smoldering flamethrower. It spewed fire, and Cara covered Din with her own body. Another scraping sound to his left drew his attention, and Din exhaled heavily when he felt familiar hands on his arms.

Zakia didn't have a chance to speak before the Stormtrooper lifted his flamethrower and pointed it at their faces. Her and Cara exchanged a glance over his helmet- as if he couldn't make logical decisions anymore- and ducked down. Din flinched out of pure instinct, and braced himself for what was sure to be a painful death, made even more so by the presence of his loved ones.

To his surprise, death hadn't reached them after a few seconds. Din blinked wearily, tipping his head forward to take in the tiny Child standing before them. Its tiny arms were outstretched, and a ball of fire spun in the air. It was motionless , only turning on itself as it remained in one place. It only moved when the baby thrust his arms forwards. The resounding explosion sent the Stormtrooper flying, and all three near the overturned table winced.

The Child then fell to his rear, exhausted from the ordeal.

"Come on! It's open, let's go!"

Karga was standing behind Din somewhere, but he couldn't turn his head to see. Cara looked at Zakia, who nodded curtly. The warrior stood, hissing something at the IG-11 droid positioned behind all of them. She placed a brief hand on Zakia's shoulder and moved away, leaving them alone as she scooped up the Child as well.

Zakia then focused her attention on him. "Din…"

"Zakia, I-I can't beat this one." He managed. "It's bad."

She sniffed, and Din knew she was trying to hold it together for his sake. "And I can't leave you. You need to let the IG bring you. We can get you to safety. Treat you."

Din swallowed, shaking his head. It sent stars flying across his vision, and he took it as a sign of his deteriorating condition. The fire was growing closer, illuminating his partner's face in orange and red. There was an exchange between group members taking place behind them, but Din was too far into the darkness to make out their words.

"Din! Dammit, Djarin, you're not allowed to leave me!" Zakia lifted a hand to his neck, pulling it away to examine the blood. "I need to take this off."

The mechanical steps of the IG droid came closer, and its metallic persona appeared in Din's vision.

"No." Din shook his head. "Go. Zakia, I need you to do this. For me."

Stubborn as ever, she shook her head. "No. I won't let you die alone. Remember last time we were on this planet? I won't let you die at all."

The IG turned to her. "I will stay with the Mandalorian."

"When will you two idiots realize I'm not leaving?" Zakia managed. Her hands were ineffectual, lying hopelessly on Din's thigh.

"I need to remove your helmet if I am to save you." IG-11 interrupted their pre-death staring match, and Din remained stock-still.

"IG's are hunters." Zakia deadpanned. She was straightforward, even to the point where she was staring death in the eye.

"Not this one. I was reprogrammed. I am a nurse droid. As previously stated- I am to remove the helmet if I am to save you."

Din managed to pull his blaster when the IG's clawed extremity reached out. The Creed was everything sacred to him. Mandalorians would rather die than break it, and he was no exception. Zakia knew the implications from the beginning, and always respected them. He would not allow a droid to break the oath he had sworn so many years ago.

"Try it and I'll kill you." Din pointed his gun at the droid, and Zakia shook with frustration. The noise that escaped her was half-sob, half- yell.

"It is… forbidden. No living thing has seen me without my helmet since I s-swore the Creed." Din choked. Zakia reached up, placing a hand on his blaster. She swung her body around, straddling his thighs with her knees. Her hair was a halo around her head, and Din reveled in the sight. If he had to die, it would be like this.

"I won't be living without you, Din." Zakia wiped tears away from her face, whimpering as she shielded him from the flames. "You know I've respected the Creed as long as we've been together, but this is where I draw the line. This is your life. This is us."

Din dropped his head against the table behind him, hands coming to rest on Zakia's hips. He squeezed gently, and his brain caught up with his mouth. Why was it this woman tore him to pieces? Built him up and then knocked him down like a blast charge on an old wall. Shattered to pieces in a matter of seconds

"I trust you. With everything. With this." Din didn't have to elaborate on his words for Zakia to understand them.

Their time was limited, and it was running out quickly. Zakia reached her hands up, fingers locking around the bottom of his helmet. Din didn't fight this time, despite the fact that his brain fought him at every step. Zakia was gentle, but more confident than she had been on Sorgan. Her hands pulled the metal away, deft fingers pressing the pneumatic release.

And it had been so long since he had felt the atmosphere of another planet on his face. Sorgan had been the exception, thought it was only a few moments worth of peace. This was a hot blast of heat in his face, and his eyes flickered open with more clarity than he had in a long time. It took a moment to adjust to the light, and the droid was already surveying him.

"This is a bacta spray. It will heal you in a matter of hours."

Din couldn't hear the droid or recognize his actions, as he was too busy staring at Zakia.

She still sat over his thighs, frozen with the helmet in her hands. Her glacial eyes were fixed on his, and he forced a smile. "S-sorry to… disappoint."

Zakia moved then, sobbing freely as she embraced him as gently and as tightly as possible while the droid tended to his wounds. Din was too concussed to process this development properly, but he imagined it would all rush over him later if they managed a miraculous escape.

"Disappoint?" Zakia released a wet laugh into his shoulder, eventually lifting her head to kiss his cheeks and face. Everywhere she could reach was peppered with kisses, and Din began to gain some feeling back.

"You're perfect. Beat to hell and dragged through the dirt, but you're perfect."

'The eyes are the windows to the soul.'

Zakia had the saying recited to her over and over as a child. It was true, as far as she was concerned. But that day, inches from death and beaten by flames on the floor of their old hangout, Zakia was given evidence to support her claims.

Seeing Din's eyes had both broken her and saved her at the same time.

She was left to consider the idea as they carefully climbed into the sewer grate, supported by IG-11. The Mandalorian's helmet was replaced once they were on the ground, and Zakia reached up to switch on his helmet light.

After the droid had urged their exit, neither party had a chance to consider the complication of the previous minutes' action. Zakia knew the code was broken, but it was necessary. Din and her were partners- together as long as they could be, and bonded by a broken life. They had been through countless tragedies together, and even more fortunes. Letting his die was not an option, and removing the helmet fell hand-in-hand in their predicament. If she was being honest, she expected a much bigger rebuke on his part. A harsher opposition- anything to indicate he was worried.

But he hadn't fought her.

Then when the beskar was gone and it was his dark, worried eyes staring back at her in place of a visor, she broke. Zakia cried, only pulling herself together to get all of them out of imminent mortal danger. IG-11 had been instrumental in their escape from the building, and Zakia was sure they never would have got away without the droid. As they limped deeper into the sewer, she had no words.

They had a long way to go, but it felt like a huge obstacle had been taken from their path.

[crystalgirl259]

How to Train Your Dragonblood 3: The Dragonblood Alpha Ch6

Ed and Cliff shivered badly as they flew on Karloff's back over a half-frozen ocean in the middle of a snowstorm. The sun was almost completely set by now, casting the sky in a beautiful light and dark purple with a faded yellow. High above them were dozens of stars starting to appear through the clouds. On any other day, Cliff, Ed, and Karloff would have found it beautiful. But they were too focused and worried about Kai and Jay to think about it.

"He's just like his mother! She could never stay put either!" Cliff suddenly shouted in frustration at his son's stubbornness. When he first met her, Libber may have come off as a little awkward, but once he got to know her, she was strong and uncompromising and was always willing to stand up for those who were helpless. Jay was almost a perfect copy of his mother and most of the time Cliff loved it, but not today.

"He's just twenty, and a Viking; I mean there couldn't be the worst combination." "When I think of how stubborn and senseless you were back in the day..." He trailed off as his expression switched to a hopeless one. "Huh, now not much has changed actually.

"Ah, you know how he's like; he won't give up, and if Jay finds Iron Baron before we find him..." Cliff gulped in fear at the thought. He had already lost some of his closest friends thanks to that monster, he wouldn't let him take his son.

"Nothing can happen to your boy as long as Kai is with him; he's a Fire Dragonblood for crying out loud!" Ed tried to reassure his friend, but it did little to help the old chief. While he agreed that Kai was powerful and cared about Jay, he was more stubborn and careless than his son. Cliff was about to voice his concerns when he noticed something in the corner of his eyes. Below them, a crack in the ice was seen. Cliff noticed it and made Karloff fly back.

As they approached the hole in, Ed leaned on the side and grabbed the floating helmet out of the water.

Sitting back up, he handed it to Cliff who carefully looked at it. He looked back and Ed caught his concerned gaze. Cliff looked down at his dragonblood in determination and offered him the helmet to sniff.

"Find them, Karloff!" He ordered. Karloff took a sniff, memorizing the scent. The Metal Dragonblood growled and started beating his wings faster as they ascended, the storm still raging around them...

****************

It took a few minutes until Jay finally got back to reality. A reality that was getting crazier by the minute. First, he breaks tradition by saving and falling in love with one of the most dangerous species of Dragonbloods, then he loses his leg, and now his mother is back from the dead and living with dragonbloods. Why did things like that happen only to him? Right now, Libber was leading Jay and Kai through a maze of rock caves. While Jay struggled to keep up, Kai was easily able to navigate through the inner ice caves from his past experiences living in the nest for years.

"Ho-hold on! Wait just a minute!" Jay shouted as he chased after his mother through the caves, but he was steadily ignored. Libber swiftly jumped on the rocks ahead of him, motioning for him to follow.

"You can't just say something like that and run off!" He exclaimed angrily as he climbed on the rocks after her, noticeably slower and less gracefully while Kai came after him. "You're my MOTHER?! I mean what the– Do you- do you grasp how insane it sounds?!"

"She does kinda look like you," Kai called from the back.

"NOT HELPING KAI!" Jay screeched at him as they reached a steep slope that Libber climbed in seconds.

"Come quickly." She pressured the couple.

"I have questions! Where have you been all this time?!" He demanded as he attempted to climbs after her but slipped so Kai grabbed his waist and easily pushed him from behind. Jay felt his face heat up and this earned a round of chuckles from the brunette. It really wasn't easy to go through such terrain with a prosthetic leg. He had seen some of the people from Ninjago struggle and he had years of experience. Jay tumbled forward and got back on his feet right after to keep going.

"What've you been doing?! They said you were dead! Everybody thinks you were eaten by a..." He trailed off as they got out in an open, sunlit cavern where hundreds of different dragonbloods were flying around frozen structures covered in greenery. The sight brought gasped of wonder from both Jay and Kai. Kai was stunned to see such a peaceful nest. For most of their lives, he and Nya had been forced to join under that monster's rule and others were born there.

He would have never thought there was such an amazing place that was practically right next door to Ninjago.

As they step out, Jay and Kai glance at a group of baby Dragonbloods playing nearby. They both stepped back when a huge dragonblood flew right over them. Jay smiled at the multitude of dragonbloods flying freely in the open space. He got closer to the rim wherefrom above there was a creek running down the edge.

"Uh, Jaybird." Kai suddenly said and pointed up above them. Jay looked up and gasped when he saw the same Lightning Dragonblood hanging from the ceiling, his mother also holding it. The sapphire-colored dragonblood crooned as it tilted its head to look at them. Jay stared at the pair in shock. He honestly thought that he was the first dragonblood rider, yet here was his mother being so close to one. While a part of him was overjoyed that his mother was alive and well, a part of him was angry at her for being gone all these years.

He wanted to yell at her and tell her what it was like growing up with just a judgemental father and a disappointed village.

To make her feel as bad he felt his entire life. People might say he was being petty, but he didn't feel like that. But if she and the Lightning Dragonblood had a bond similar to the one he shared with Kai then there might be a chance for them to build bridges. His heart was still conflicted about this. Even though this place looked good he couldn't see what was so great about it to keep her away from her home, husband, and child.

"This is where you've been for 20 years?" Jay asked, not sure what else to say at the moment. Libber smiled and nodded as she observed him carefully, her face alight with happiness, hope, and a twinge of fear. Behind him, Kai sat down on a nearby boulder, seeing that this was a moment between Jay and Libber, not him. As he watched his boyfriend agonize on what to do, he was approached by a young Shadow Dragonblood. He chose to ignore the noirette and focused on Jay

"You... You've been rescuing them." Jay realized when he remembered what Clutch said about their fort being attacked. Libber looked around and nodded again. Jay was in complete disbelief as behind him the Shadow Dragonblood started nuzzling Kai in welcome. This caught the brunette off-guard for a second. After living with humans for five years, many of his friends and himself had had to force down their animal instincts. They didn't want to frighten the humans any more than they had.

Kai understood that the noirette didn't mean any harm, but he was worried that Jay might get the wrong idea and didn't want to upset the ginger-haired man any more than he was.

"You're not upset?" She asked a little nervously. Jay sort of was, but he didn't know how to tell her. His mother had been living among a dragonblood paradise while he had to put up with his father's disappointment and the villagers' mistrust.

"What? No, I-I don't know..." He stammered as Kai stepped away from the Shadow Dragonblood who watched him crestfallen. "It's a bit much to get my head around, to be frank; it's not every day you find out your mother is some kind of crazy, feral, vigilante, dragon lady." He chuckled awkwardly and Libber smiled sadly. Indeed, her ideas weren't welcomed. She could tell her son was heartbroken to hear how much happier she was among the beasts.

In the same way, Jay was more at ease on the back of his boyfriend.

With a quick look, the Lightning Dragonblood offered Libber a claw that she hooked her staff around and was lowered down, sliding on a wing. As soon as her feet touched the ground, the Lightning Dragonblood transformed into their human form. They were revealed to be a woman who was around the same age as Libber. She had long auburn hair kept in three separate braids behind her back and pale skin. She has a slim figure, but Jay could clearly make out some strong muscles.

She wore a midnight blue, long sleeve tunic, an orange belt, and black leggings that appear layered.

She had armbands and boots with spikes on the sides. She also had a few layers of cloth wrapped around her waist, with her left leg exposed.

"At least I'm not boring, right?" Libber replied as Jay looked around as an Ice Dragonblood in its dragon form bumped his shoulder and other young dragonbloods started coming over to look at them. They hadn't seen a Fire Dragonblood in years and the only human who was nice to them was Libber. He was hesitant to touch it but gave in when it continued.

"Well, I suppose there is that... one specific thing..." Jay muttered, not wanting to meet her eyes.

"Do you... Do you like it?" She asked as she approached him unsurely.

"I-I-I don't have the words..." He admitted, looking cautious and a bit hurt while Libber was acting like a fearful, untrusting dragonblood. But they didn't expect things to be fixed with a snap of the fingers. This was a very delicate matter. Unfortunately, Ninjago people didn't do delicate. Meanwhile, Kai was surrounded by curious dragonbloods. One dragonblood sniffed him down the clothes and then lifted him up with their bare hands. Kai was stunned as he found himself supported only by a stranger's hands.

"HEY! HANDS OFF THE MERCHANDISE YOU GODDAMN CREEPS!" He roared and they quickly backed off. Libber finally noticed the brunette and immediately got closer to him, hunching down.

"Can-Can I?" She whispered to her son, already seeing his bond with Kai. She had only caught a glimpse of a Fire Dragonblood when one attacked Ninjago all those years ago. She had been living here for about two decades and she had never seen a living, breathing Fire Dragonblood. Libber had feared that they were extinct. At Jay's approval, she crouched and dropped her staff.

"Oh, he's beautiful." She cooed as she lifted a hand for him to sniff then traced her hand through his spikey brown hair.

"Of course I am." Kai laughed along with her and nuzzled her cheek. Jay was little put off by Kai's actions, but he knew the brunette long enough to know he only loved Jay and he was prone to these animal interactions, whether he was in his human or dragon form, even though he mostly only did it in private with Jay and other dragonbloods. Jay was surprised to see his mother right in her element. She was still so beautiful as the pictures Cliff had shown him, and every one of her moves was graceful and fluid.

It spoke of years of trust and attention dedicated to the dragonbloods she had been living with.

It truly wasn't a big surprise to see her get along with Kai, an outside dragonblood, so easily. Kai watched them get along and smiled warmly, happy to see his mother and boyfriend becoming friends. Without realizing it, Libber stood on her knees and kept the brunette's head in her hands.

"Um... I'm sorry, but what's your name?" She asked and Kai chuckled.

"My name's Kai, and I've been dating Jay for almost five years now, he's a great guy." He replied with a smirk as he caught Jay blushing, only to freeze when he caught Libber's wide eyes.

"You're both dating?" She gasped as her eyes kept darting back and forth between the brunette and her son. Jay cast Kai an angry look, which made his fiery boyfriend wince, before looking back to her mother.

"Yeah... as Kai said, it's been going on for a few years now and we couldn't be happier."

"Yep, we've been talking about a summer beach wedding and a little cottage by the lakes for the grandkids." Kai laughed and was soon joined by Libber while Jay spluttered and stumbled to find any words as his face turned scarlet.

"T-That's not what's happening! I-I-I mean, we've talked a-about it but there's n-nothing set in stone, a-and things are t-tough right now and-"

"Jaybird, relax, I'm just messing with you." Kai sent through the link and Jay relaxed almost immediately. Libber quickly noticed the change in mood and it didn't take her long to figure out what was happening.

"YOU TWO SHARE A LINK!?" She screeched as if she had just been told everything she touched turned to diamonds and gold.

"You know what the link is?" Jay asked, but he wasn't that surprised. If she had been living with Dragonbloods for twenty years then she must know all their secrets and probably shared a link with one or more.

"Of course, many dragonbloods only share a link with people they trust and love the most; it's typically only shared with family members such as parents, siblings, mates, or children."

"Do you share a link with anyone around here?" Kai asked, eyeing a few locals still hanging around.

"Um, no, I don't; I've been living here for twenty years and I haven't shared a link like that with anyone, not even Wisp." She admitted, looking a little disappointed, gesturing to the Lightning Dragonblood she was riding earlier. "I'm so pleased and happy for you both that you can have something as special as that." She smiled as she wrapped her arms around her son and his boyfriend, which the couple happily returned.

"Thanks, Mom," Jay muttered.

"Um, Kai, if it's not too much bother can I please see your dragon form?" She asked, feeling very awkward asking. Kai chuckled lightly before he suddenly vanished a flash of red light and a dragon stood in his place. Libber didn't hesitate to look the red beast over, running her fingers over every scar and scale as her eyes burned every detail into her memory.

"He might very well be the last of his kind." She said without thinking.

"Thanks for the reminded." Kai thought as he trilled dejected. Jay glanced at his boyfriend and felt sorry for him. He wanted to comfort him but he wasn't sure if he was allowed to approach the Fire Dragonblood's side while his mother was inspecting him. He settled for sending the brunette as much love and comfort through their link, which Kai was thankful for. Kai then walked around her and butted his head underneath her arm for more attention.

He rolled on his back in her lap as she scratched him as inspected his neck, causing him to purr.

"Look, he's your age! No wonder you get along so well!" She gasped in delight and Jay smiled. Kai was in much better spirits. Libber was very nice and entertaining. It was quite obvious she would be since she was the mother of his boyfriend. They stood in front of each other again, Libber tipped her head up and down like Kai and mimicking his yelps of happiness. "How did you manage to meet such a magnificent creature?" She asked her son, not taking her eyes off Kai.

Libber's enthusiasm was infectious and Jay, Kai, and the nearby dragonbloods found themselves smiling and cheering.

When the couple registered her question, their smiles dropped and almost all the dragonbloods sensed it and took off faster than a Speed Dragonblood could blink.

"I found him in the woods; he was shot down and...wounded." He gulped, a little worried about how his mother would take the news about how he was the one who basically crippled Kai. When he said that, Libber frowned as she stood while Jay sheepishly fidgeted on the spot and Kai looked anywhere but her or Jay. She walked to a Water Dragonblood who was in their dragon form, missing their right back leg, and ran her hand down its jaw.

"Vapore lost her leg to one of Iron Baron's traps." She said as bent down to grab her staff and walked over to a Mind Dragonblood. "Interis got his wing sliced by razor netting, and this... oh, poor Theuros was blinded by a tree snare, and then left to die alone and scared." She whimpered as she carefully took hold of a Poison Dragonblood's hand and he leaned into her touch. Jay nodded along with her as he took a good look at some of the other dragonbloods perched around them.

Some were missing patches of scales, hard to see with their dark coloring, and others had tattered wings, no doubt from flying non-stop and whatever wound they gained from the traps.

He and Kai both stiffened, however, when she pointed to Kai's prosthetic fin.

"And what of this? Did Iron Baron or his filthy trappers do this atrocity too?" She snarled as her voice turned cold and hard as she gripped the leather and examined it and the couple instantly paled.

"Ooohh... hehe, yeah... Huh, well crazy thing is..." He gulped as he swung his arms awkwardly and walked closer to his boyfriend. "I'm actually the one who shot him down." He reluctantly confessed, only to receive a confused and angry look from his mother. "It's-It's okay though, he got me back, right baby?" Jay giggled as Kai shook his head happily in Jay's arms as he kept running his hands over his scales. "You couldn't save all of me, could you? You just had to make it even! So, peg leg!" He exclaimed and he threw an arm around Kai's neck and lifted his foot.

Libber was at a loss.

It really was the most obvious proof of the Gods' sense of humor. Her son condemned a dragonblood and in turn said dragonblood also crippled him for life. Now they love and depended on each other. Kai to fly and Jay to escape life. Kai suddenly shook him off and dove down between Jay's legs, throwing the human on his back as he laughed nervously. Libber, just as uncomfortable, got on her knees to touch Kai's snout again.

"What did your father think of your boyfriend?" She finally asked the second most awkward question for the couple.

"Uh... he-he didn't take it all that well... but then, he changed; they all did." He smiled as a crease of disapproval crossed Libber's face as she listened. "Pretty soon, dragonbloods from the nest came to live in Ninjago with everyone." Jay giggled lightly, still a little stunned at that fact, but his smile dropped when she shook her head.

"If only it were all possible." She scoffed and Jay's blood turned cold at his mother's certain doubt.

"No, really-"

"Believe me! I tried as well but people are not capable of change, Jay; some of us are just born different." She sighed as she sat up and looked at him and then at Wisp as Kai returned to his human form. Wisp suddenly took off to the sky to join the other dragonbloods. Libber sighed sadly as she remembered her last night in Ninjago. The sky was red and filled with smoke as a large Earth Dragonblood flew overhead. As it swept up, she remembered seeing a burning hall, the light illuminating the sky and revealing even more dragonbloods flying around.

Screams were heard and a giant torch was lifted.

"Ninjago was a land of kill or be killed, but I believed peace was possible." She told her son as she remembered the Earth Dragonblood falling down right in front of a charging soldier. As the man lifted his ax to kill it, he was stopped by Libber grabbing his arm. She believed that fighting would only make it worse. But it was a very unpopular opinion. That night was one of the worst raids the village had ever suffered and not only that but the Chief and his family very nearly died.

The Earth Dragonblood quickly go back up and flew away and the man looked at her with contempt.

As he ran off after the dragonblood, Libber looked at her house and saw a dragon getting in through the broken roof.

"Then, one night, a dragonblood broke into our house finding you in the cradle." She sighed as she visualized Wisp walking into the house towards a baby's cradle. As soon as Libber entered the room she reached for a sword near the door. She stopped, however, holding the blade up, when she saw the dragonblood playing with Jay with her giant claw. As she looked at the laughing baby and the dragonblood she lowered the weapon in amazement.

Kai cooed, thinking of his boyfriend as a cute, little baby.

Jay didn't know if he wanted to glare at him or bury himself in embarrassment as his face turned scarlet again.

"I rushed to protect you, but what I saw was proof of everything I believed." She smiled at the memory. When Wisp noticed her, the dragonblood accidentally scratched Jay's chin, making him cry as she turned around on the human, growling under her breath. Libber quickly took a few steps back, holding the sword up. But as she looked in Wisp's eyes, she let it go. This wasn't a vicious beast, but an intelligent, gentle creature whose soul reflected her own.

They looked in each other's eyes and a bond was born.

But then, an ax flew between them. The dragonblood retreated, howling as Cliff appeared, dodging its lightning, as he told his wife to run. Libber grabbed Wisp's wing but she shook her off and turned back to face her. Seeing her cornered, Cliff made his way through the flames to his son. She remembered his husband shouting at her to hold on like she was in danger. Once Jay was safe in his arms, the Chief looked back at his wife to see her being carried away by the dragonblood.

He watched through the hole in the roof as the dragonbloods flew further and further away from him and his crying son.

"You and your father nearly died that night, all because I couldn't kill a dragonblood." She mumbled, unable to look at her son or Kai.

"Runs in the family." Jay smiled faintly, starting to piece things together, as Kai pulled him into a one-armed hug for comfort. There were still things left unclear, but he shouldn't jump to conclusions.

"It broke my heart to stay away, but I believed it would be safer if I did." She finished and a blind man could all the years of pain and sorrow in her face and eyes.

"How did you survive?" He asked, fearing that Wisp had taken her to the nest then they both managed to escape that monster, but Libber suddenly burst out laughing.

"Oh, Wisp never meant to harm me; she must've thought I belonged here, in the home of the great Dragonblood of Creation." She beamed as they started walking closer to the edge. Down below, in a pool of water, was a huge, white, and gold creature with giant whiskers that looked like a beard and hundreds of long shining spikes jutting out from the back of his head and all over his back. Dragonbloods were flying around him and bowed down to him when they got close.

Kai's eyes widened when he saw the ancient dragonblood below them.

Creation was one of, if not the most powerful elements in the world; rivaled only by the element of Destruction and the mythical First Born. Many secrets remained about the true extent of this dragonblood's powers and abilities. Many believed it was just a myth. This white and gold dragon possessed the elements of Fire, Earth, Ice, and Lightning and could affect the physical world in ways that Elemental Dragonbloods couldn't.

"This is the Alpha species, one of the few that still exists; every Nest has its Queen but this is the King of all dragonsbloods," Libber smirked when she saw Jay and Kai's stunned faces at the sight of this giant, stunning creature. "With his icy breath, this graceful giant built a safe haven for dragonbloods everywhere." She smiled as she pointed with her staff at the ice-covered roof of the cave while they walked down.

"Wait, that's the ice-spitter? He's responsible for all that destruction?!" Jay gasped as he looked at the ice-covered roof.

"He protects us! We all live under his care and his command." She snapped, thinking he was being rude. Behind them, a group of hatchlings appeared out of the foliage and converged on a frightened and annoyed Kai. The Fire Dragonblood was only saved by Wisp scaring them off.

"All but the babies of course, who listen to no one." Libber laughed loudly as the babies flew around and hung on the King's face, unbothered whatsoever. The white and golden dragonblood rose and spun to look at them. On the hill they were on, Libber and Wisp bowed down as Jay looked at the giant's head. Even Kai felt intimidated as he crouched lower to the ground. The Alpha stood right in front of Jay, before transforming into his human form.

The Alpha was an elderly man with a long white beard.

He was wearing white robes and a conical straw hat with a tattered cape. He seemed to pull a long staff out of nowhere and walked over to them. Jay stood frozen as his mother, Wisp, and Kai was on their knees in a sign of respect. The ginger-haired man had never once seen Kai bow down to anyone, not even at the nest. This did little to ease Jay's worry as the old man came closer, examining Libber's son. His face showed no emotion as he scanned the young man up and down.

Jay gulped, getting ready to either run, beg, or just stay still as a statue.

All of a sudden, the old dragonblood transformed again and puffed a breath out that covered the two humans and two dragonbloods. Jay, being closer, ended up with his hair covered in frost before returning to his spot in the creek.

"Master Wu likes ya." His mother laughed merrily.

"Master Wu?" Kai asked as they get back to their feet, feeling like they could relax again.

"Yeah, that's his name." She replied as Jay shook his head from the frost and gasped at the impressive creature. "You must be hungry." She smiled at the couple.

"Ah, yeah, I could eat." Jay nodded.

"Same." Kai grinned as he and Jay held each other's hand.

"Good! It's feeding time." She said as she gently took her son's arm and guided them further into the sanctuary...

[greekgeek21]

Percy Jackson & The Avengers: Convergence - the secret it out

I'm not dead! I had a mental breakdown, but I'm not dead! I am not abandoning this story, I promise. Didn't you guys see the part of my A/N where I said that I would never abandon this story, just take a tiny hiatus. And I'm proving that now by uploading this.

Anyway, this chapter is pretty long, so I hope this makes up for not uploading for months. I'm in the middle of doing a bio final, which is my second to last one! I'm so excited to be done with this school year. I've literally been calling my school Hell.

Also, I'm adding disclaimers to each chapter cuz I forgot to do that, so yeah act like you're smart enough to know that I don't own Marvel or PJO. Please stay safe and happy pride month🏳️‍🌈!

- your author

PS if you didn't know, I'm pan so...not just an ally or something.

Ω ♆ Ω

The demigods were silent the entire trip back. The group hadn't wanted to explain why the Avengers were there, so they'd left before the authorities had shown up. The quinjet had survived the storm with the ability to still fly, so they took that back to the tower. Despite the multitude of people with ADHD on the plane, nobody had spoken a word. However, the Seven seemed to be silently communicating to Percy their confusion and anger. As far as they knew, they did not have permission to tell the truth of the gods yet! They trusted Percy, but he had been through a lot recently, and maybe his judgement was a little off.

But they couldn't risk slipping anything to the Avengers, so they settled for just glaring at the son of Poseidon. The boy in question, however, just sat there staring at his lap, where he was playing with Riptide.

He was trying to figure out the best way to break it to the Avengers that their entire world was basically a lie. It was a lot to take in. He could attest to that. He was half-convinced that he was hallucinating when he first got the explanation.

Tony was finding the silence particularly difficult to withstand. First, Percy tells them that he's finally going to tell them the full truth, and then he just walks away and gets on the quinjet without following up on that comment! Anticlimactic much?

"Alright, that's it! Somebody say something!" he yelled. "I can't take this anymore!"

Percy responded without looking up, "Wait until we're at the tower. Then, I'll tell you everything. It's time you guys know." He whispered the next part under his breath, "You're going to need it where we're going."

Unfortunately for Steve, he could still hear that last comment. "That's reassuring," he said.

"Sorry," Percy muttered.

He didn't have time to worry about the Avengers' feelings. He had already figured out how he would tell them the truth. The best way was to be completely open and make sure there weren't any chances for fighting to break out.

Right now, he was worrying about Annabeth. Every second they wasted was one more second the monsters had to hurt her. It was taking everything within him to not make Piper's water bottle explode.

Ω ♆ Ω

Percy was the first one out of the jet when they landed on Avengers Tower. He ran all the way to his room, where he grabbed as many godly artifacts that he could find. He had a feeling that the mortals would want some proof before they started believing anything. He grabbed a couple of drachmas, some ambrosia and nectar, a picture of Coach Hedge, Mellie, and little Chuck, and his trident (yes, he has a trident now). The trident folded into itself until it was the size of a water bottle. If he wanted to use it, he had to say it's name, ακουαρέλα (waterbringer). The greek lettering of its name on the side glows, and it shoots open. It was a gift from his father as an early eighteenth birthday present.

Godly parents are weird that way; giving their kids weapons as presents. But spend enough time in this world and you get used to it.

He rushed back to the living room, where JARVIS had told him everyone was gathered (a tiny voice in his head reminded him that it wasn't everyone. Not yet). They seemed to have resorted back into their first day together: opposite sides of the coffee table, mistrustful glances sent across, and a general awkward aura surrounding the place. If Percy wasn't in such a rush to save Annabeth, he would've laughed at the sight.

Tony was the first to notice him, "Oh, you're here finally! Great! Now can you tell us what the hell is going on?"

Again, a strange sense of déjà vu washed over Percy, but he ignored it.

"Yes. It's important you know the truth before we leave," Percy answered.

He turned to his friends and spoke again. "And before you try protesting, my dad gave me permission."

Jason's open mouth snapped shut.

He dumped his artifacts on the table, motioning for his friends to do the same with anything they had on them. It wasn't a lot; just a couple of drachmas and their weapons. Leo did take off his entire toolbelt, though.

"What's this stuff? Is this supposed to answer all our questions?" Natasha said.

"No, this is just proof. I'll be explaining it all to you." He paused, unsure of how to start.

"Oh for the gods' sake, Percy, just start with the simplest answer!" Piper exclaimed, jumping up, "We're demigods, sons and daughters of the gods."

A beat of silence passed.

Steve broke it, "I didn't know Thor had any children..."

Jason groaned, "How did I know you would say that? Honestly, open your minds a little bit. We're Greek and Roman demigods. Thor isn't even a real god! He's just an alien with superpowers!"

Percy stared, amused, at his cousin. Clearly the son of the lightning god was not happy with Thor running around and calling himself a god (especially when Magnus was proof that he wasn't).

Piper patted him on the back sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, are you saying that there are more gods?" Tony asked, eyes wide in shock.

"Yes," Percy answered simply.

"Oh. Ok. That's fine, I guess. Nothing unbelievable about that," Tony commented sarcastically.

Percy sighed, preparing himself, "I am the son of Poseidon. Annabeth is the daughter of Athena. Piper is the daughter of Aphrodite, and Jason is the son of Jupiter. Hazel is the daughter of Pluto, and Frank is the son of Mars. And Leo is the son of Hephaestus. We aren't lying. We wish we were, but we're not. This is the truth."

Clint said, "I want to see this proof you were talking about."

Percy nodded, reaching down and grabbing a drachma.

"This is a drachma. How do you think we have so many of these? They are the godly currency," he said, tossing the coin over to Clint.

"Okay, I'll admit that it's odd for you to own so many of those things, but I need some proof of magic," Tony said.

Percy gritted his teeth, wondering if it was possible to kill Tony with Riptide. The man had already seen Percy turn a pen into a sword, but of course he had to see something else. There was no way to convince him that magic was real, he would just try and find some scientific answer to anything he showed him. It was an impossible task.

"Fine," he ground out.

Percy grabbed the folded version of his trident and made a show of moving it around so Tony could see that there were no tricks. Then he said the "magic words" and it popped open into a trident. It was still a little odd for Percy to hold it. He wasn't used to the weighting of it yet. Of course, he knew how to use it, but it still seemed weird. It didn't help that the weapon only gave Leo more reason to call him Aquaman, too.

"Is this enough proof for you?" Percy asked.

Tony learned forward in interest, "What did you do to get it to fold into that tight of a space? It must be the same tech as the pen, but I'm still not sure how it gets activated by those words..."

"It's magic, Mr. Stark," Hazel informed him.

"No such thing," Tony muttered offhandedly.

Hazel rolled her eyes, giving up. He would be proven very wrong soon enough. You can't spend much time in their world without starting to believe it.

"So that's how you guys have all your abilities? You are half god?" Bruce asked.

He was always more open to the scientifically-unproven than Tony. He was living proof of what could happen. Some might say the Hulk is magic.

"Yes. We are constantly hunted by monsters who can smell the scent we put off. They wanted to take revenge on Olympus, but it just grew to enjoyment from there. There aren't many safe havens in this world for us. That's why we don't tend to live that long. I am the oldest living Greek demigod alive," Percy said, acting like it was everyday you basically stated that you should be dead.

"That's awful! Why don't your parents do anything about it?!" Steve exclaimed.

"They are forbidden. Plus, godly parents suck. Most don't give a crap about their kids," Piper answered. "We're just the result of their mistakes."

"Well, they should. It's not right to leave kids to die," Bruce said.

Thunder rumbled in the distance; a warning from Drama King himself.

Percy glared up at the sky, "Oh, don't act like they're lying! You know it's wrong! At least have the guts to admit it, Uncle Z!"

The Avengers paled at the thought that the gods were watching them. It was a truly terrifying thought, to learn that you aren't in control of your fate. And the fact that Percy was yelling and accusing the king of the gods was not helping one bit.

The Seven had gotten slightly more used to Percy's reckless ways, but it was still worrying whenever he decided to rebel and yell at the most powerful beings in the universe when they were in the same room.

There wasn't an answer to Percy's rant, but there was a significantly less amount of sulfur in the air, so they took it as a sign that Zeus was letting it slide.

"But why are you telling us this now?" Natasha asked, always the observant spy.

She had remained silent thus far because she wanted to learn more about these mysterious "gods" before she acted. By how serious Valdez was acting, though, she was leaning towards it being the truth (or, at least, what the kids thought was the truth). She would have to report this to Fury as soon as possible.

Percy turned towards her, "Because my dad told me where Annabeth is being held. It's a dangerous place, and you need to be prepared if you're going to come with us. I won't force you to come, though. I would understand if you said no after you hear what it's like."

The Sea of Monsters was not a place for the weak. It would take a lot of willpower to get them all through. He had to make sure that the mortals were completely sure they wanted to come before they took off.

"Where are we going?" Steve asked.

"The Sea of Monsters," Percy answered in a grave voice.

"That's a reassuring name," Tony commented, "This'll be a blast."

"You do not need to come, Tony! None of you should want to after you hear what it's like," Percy said.

Tony stood up in anger, "You know what, kid? I don't need you yelling at me! I am a hero, and just because you tell us you are part god doesn't give you the right to act all high-and-mighty! We can handle it! We're the Avengers!"

Percy glared at the billionaire, "Trust me, you can't. I am trying to get across how dangerous this quest will be. The last time I was there, I almost died many times. It is NOT a good place to be."

"Where is that, exactly? Where are we going?" Clint asked.

The only son of Poseidon sighed, "The Bermuda Triangle."

Tony seemed to be shocked out of his angry mindset, "Wait, that myth's real?"

Leo spoke up, "Let's just assume that all things are real. It's easier that way."

"Is there anything else we should know before we get ready?" Steve asked, deciding that it was best to just cut off that conversation at the head.

"Just one more thing. We can fill in the rest on the way," Percy said, "You need to know that the gang we are fighting is not a normal bad guy. They are mortals Hades-bent on exposing the gods to the rest of the world. Somehow, they partnered with monsters. Annabeth theorized that it was because it would be easier to find demigods if the mortals were already searching for them. Basically, the monsters are using the gang for their own agenda and have the mortals convinced that they are their partners."

"Bad guys double-crossing each other. That, I can understand," Steve said with a relieved smile.

Ω ♆ Ω

The team had dispersed to go get ready, which meant packing a couple things and suiting up for the demigods. Well, they didn't know they had anything to suit-up in, but they were about to.

"Oh, guys! I have some good news!" Piper exclaimed. "The Aphrodite cabin finished our suits!"

Leo's head snapped up. "How do they look? Were my designs okay?"

Piper nodded, "Yep. And we don't even have to wear masks or anything because the Mist will distort our faces for any cameras. The Hecate cabin assured me."

Now Leo was bouncing up and down in excitement. "Can we see them? Can we? I wanna see them!"

Hazel raised an eyebrow at her friend, still never completely used to his antics. Leo Valdez was one of a kind, that's for sure (even if he was physically identical to her old boyfriend).

"Of course. We need to use them for the quest, don't we?" Piper smiled.

"Yay!" Leo exclaimed.

Piper let out a laugh, "Follow me, guys. They're in my room."

Sure enough, when they walked into Piper's room, there was a clothes rack with seven suits on it. Even from a distance, they looked amazing.

When Percy went and picked his suit up, he was in shock. It had a celestial bronze chest and shoulder plate, while the rest was a wetsuit-like material. The shoes were connected to the suit, and they seemed to be designed after water shoes. There were fingerless gloves with it, too. The gloves had air pockets, but Percy wasn't exactly sure what for.

"The gloves create water for you to use at any time." Leo answered his silent question.

"Oh. Awesome!" he said.

Percy didn't really get it, but science and magic weren't really his expertise. As long as they worked, he was okay with not knowing how.

All of the boys' suits seemed to be designed the same, minus the water-gloves. The only difference was the color of the pants. Percy's were sea green (not unlike his eyes), Jason's was electric blue, Frank's was blood red, and Leo's was bright orange.

"These are amazing!" Jason told Piper and Leo.

Piper thanked him and Leo just did an invisible hair flip in response.

The girls' suits were similar to the boys', but also completely different. There was a celestial bronze breastplate and celestial bronze plating going all the way down their sides and to their ankles. There are grey knee and elbow pads, as well. They also had fingerless gloves, but they did not go up to their wrists like the boys' suits did. Half of the glove is their suit's main color, as well as some of their arm and leg material. Piper's coloring was pink, Hazel's was purple, and Annabeth's was red. Every suit had a black Avengers symbol on their shoulders, which must have been a last-minute add-on because for a while the Seven were adamant on not becoming part of the Avengers (they still were, but it was hard to fight it when they were literally about to go into battle together).

Looking at Annabeth's suit made Percy miss her even more, but he didn't let it show. He had to be strong for his friends and teammates. He was the only one who had been through the Sea of Monsters before, so he had to guide them through.

It was going to be a tough task, that's for sure.

Ω ♆ Ω

The Seven separated to change, and once that was done, they met in the corridor of their rooms. Jason had to admit, they looked BADASS. It was clear that they were all a team, but every suit had its own individuality.

"We look awesome!" Leo exclaimed, jumping up and high-fiving Piper.

Percy strapped his sword to the clip on his waist next to his trident. "Yeah. You really did a great job, guys. Thanks. But we have to focus now. We're the only ones that are even partially prepared for what we're about to walk into, so we need to be at 100%. The Avengers may think they know what's coming, but they are clueless."

The Seven steeled their expressions, their teammate's seriousness washing over them like a wave. This was an important mission, not just for them, but for the Avengers, too. They may be rescuing their friend, but they were also stopping terrorists. This was big.

"Your confidence in us is truly heartwarming, Hercules." Tony's voice popped their bubble.

The Seven turned to see that the Avengers were all standing in the hall, suited up and ready (minus Bruce, of course).

"Hercules?" Percy asked, dawning a disgusted expression.

Tony stepped up. "Yeah. You said your greek demigods, and he's the first one that popped up. Plus, you got that whole hero-complex thing going."

Percy scowled, "Hercules is a dick."

"Agreed," Piper said, mirroring his expression.

"I really want to ask, but we've gotta get going," Bruce said, "We need to get there fast."

"Yeah. Where exactly are we going, again?" Tony asked.

"First, Florida. Then, The Bermuda Triangle." Percy answered.

"Why can't we just fly straight to the place?" Natasha asked, crossing her arms.

Percy sighed and then ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "Because we'd just die faster. The only way to even have a chance of making it in and out is to go in by boat. Flying to Florida is the quickest way to get as close as possible. From there, we'll go by boat."

Natasha nodded, accepting the answer. However, she was still nervous about all of the "gods" stuff. Sure, they had met Thor, but he was just a glorified alien. What she had seen in Las Vegas was not like Thor and Loki. That was...a lot.

The group remained silent, unsure of what to say or do next, for another minute. Then, finally, Leo broke the silence. "What are we waiting for?! Let's get going, gang! We've got a world to save! I'm not getting any younger!"

He gave them his signature maniacal grin before leading the way down the hallway. Serious pep talks weren't his thing. He much preferred the sarcastic, self-deprecating kind to anything else.

They went up to the roof, where a repaired quinjet was waiting for them. Percy and Hazel still looked a little queasy about the flying, but chose not to voice it and instead clutched onto their seatbelts for dear life.

Once everyone was situated, Natasha called from the cockpit, "Seatbelts on, kids! We're taking off."

Clint grinned, "Death and doom, here we come."

Ω ♆ Ω

Remember to comment, like, reblog, and follow me! If you wanted to see what the Seven's suits looked like, I posted that on my Tumblr, which can be found on my profile page. Happy pride month 🏳️‍🌈!

- your author

other chapters :)

[themummersfolly]

Here’s an older piece I’ve had lying around for a while. Believe it or not, I actually wrote this a couple months before the pandemic.

The Veils of Illomentum

When we first met them, we thought it was another case of Taliban-style oppression. Only the men came up and spoke with us; their women stood back, silent, hidden behind veils that swept the ground. They never approached or tried to interact with us, but whenever it was time to make a decision, big or small, the man who made it would glance back at them before he spoke. We should have guessed the significance of that gesture.

The veils were one piece – I got to look at one, when a weaver brought it out to show us – draped over the crown of the head and falling sometimes to the knees, sometimes to the feet, both front and back, with a cloth circlet sewn to the inside to keep it on. The sides were open, and there seemed to be no taboo against a woman showing her arms outside the folds. There were no slits or mesh for the eyes; the veils must have been just sheer enough to see through.

We had been called to Illomentum because of a fever outbreak. The locals were remarkably sophisticated, but a recent famine had depleted their resources and the epidemic overwhelmed them. We were surprised to be treating them in their own facilities, mostly with their own medicines. The only thing they lacked was manpower, evidently.

As in diplomacy, the men seemed to be in charge. They handled all the patient care; the few veils we saw were in central stations and dispensaries, where we assumed they performed some kind of minor role. Even the patients were mostly male, and the few women we did treat refused to be seen by male doctors. A few of the children we treated turned out to be female, but the Illo refused to discuss it; despite the way they treated adult women, they seemed determined to make childhood as gender neutral as possible.

I suppose we should have guessed at the truth. As far away from home as Illomentum was, we should have expected the Illo people to be at least as far culturally from anything we were familiar with.

The first real inkling we had came from a female aid worker who had been allowed inside the women’s quarters of a prominent house. Her hosts stayed veiled even then, although apparently it wasn’t the custom indoors. They explained that they had only recently realized that she was female, and they still weren’t sure what to make of her.

“But why do your men make you wear veils?” she asked. They seemed confused by the question, then someone laughed.

“Make us wear veils? Woman, why do your men make you show your face all the time?” The others seemed to find this equally funny or puzzling.

“No man but a husband has any business looking at a woman’s face,” added one matron, and that seemed to settle the matter for them.

As the epidemic wound down and the team’s focus shifted from medical to diplomatic, we had more opportunities to learn about the country and its customs. The Illo were an extremely private people, but our response during the crisis seemed to have won their trust. The third month we were there, our translators informed us that we had been invited to meet with the highest local official, a judge named Dindranen. The Judge, they informed us, had invited us in the first place and wanted to personally thank us for our efforts.

It was an easy day and a half journey to the town where we would meet with Judge Dindranen. About an hour away from our destination, a rider met us to say that the Judge’s welcoming party was approaching. We expected this; the Illo customarily went out to greet guests before they arrived. The rider also advised us to be careful: during the famine, many wild animals had moved closer to the town to prey on livestock, and not all of them had left.

Not ten minutes after that, the Judge’s party came in view. About twenty people had turned out to meet us: as usual, mostly men with a handful of veiled women. We craned our necks to see, trying to pick out which one was Dindranen.

As intent as we were on watching them form up across from us, we didn’t notice our own formation was getting too spread out.

The first to approach us was a man in ceremonial armor, flanked by a banner bearer. Our team lead stepped forward to greet him.

“Honorable Judge Dindranen –”

We had just enough time to register the confusion on his face. Then the horse at the end of our line panicked and threw its rider.

“Tiger attack!”

An Illo Tiger – the biggest cat I had ever seen, tawny like a lion but much larger. We scrambled to fend it off as it lunged for our teammate. Armed Illo men ran at it but shied away when it lashed out. None of us could get a clear shot without hitting our teammate. We were starting to think we would lose him when one of the veiled women jumped out of the saddle, seized a pike from a soldier, and ran at the tiger.

Time seemed to slow down. We watched her move in an arc, veil whipping around her, bracelets flashing as she leveled the spear and struck.

In fifteen seconds it was over, and the tiger lay dead at her feet. The woman handed the spear back to its owner, rearranged her veil, and folded her hands back beneath it.

“Is your man hurt?” Her voice was low and steady, soothing.

“He’s – he’s alright. Some bumps and bruises – he’ll be ok.” Most of us were still staring with our mouths open. None of the Illo acted like they’d seen anything strange, aside from the tiger. “We had no idea any women were permitted to fight.”

Our rescuer tipped her head. The veil hid her expression. “In times past it was necessary for a judge to be able to fight. Sometimes it was the only way to uphold her judgements.”

And that was how we learned who had summoned us to Illomentum.

 ----

Later, seated in her audience chamber, Judge Dindranen answered our questions about her country.

“I am unique,” she said, “in that I am trained in the use of weapons. The women of Illomentum rarely expose themselves to the dangers of combat. We are vessels of life and knowledge. The loss of a matron, before she could pass on her mantle, would be a devastating blow to her clan.”

“But the veils,” we pressed. “Why do your men make you hide behind veils?”

“You speak of veils as you might of shackles,” the Judge said. “As for our men ‘making’ us wear them – I think if it was their decision, they would look upon our faces and forms more often. But that is a privilege we do not grant lightly.

“It must be different in your country; you talk constantly of what women are ‘made’ or ‘permitted’ to do, as though they are children or cattle. But do not mistake us. The veil guards a woman’s counsel, her sacred responsibility, even her life. Why do you think so few of us fell ill with the fever? A doctor’s veil protects her from disease in all but the most extraordinary cases.

“When you first met with us, you mistook our messengers for our leaders. You did not understand our ways, and you pitied us. Now you know the truth, and your pity turns to confusion and mistrust. You cannot ‘save’ us the way you expected; do you regret that you helped us in the first place? Will you continue your friendship with us, now that you know it will not be solely on your own terms? Consider this when you return to your leaders, and ask: were your intentions for us ever truly just?”