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eatyourchancletas · 3 years ago

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SUMMARY | y/n l/n; the trauma surgeon who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and is taken hostage by the terrifying mafia known as ateez. despite their situations, love arises between the doctor and san; but when an enemy comes in between the group, breaking trust and belief between the members, what will san choose to save; his newfound love or his brothers?

PAIRING | choi san x male reader

INFO/CATEGORY | mafia au, fluff, light angst

WARNINGS | violence, weapon usage/mention, foul language, lower case writing

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AUTHOR’S NOTE | we’re back! sorry for the long break, hopefully we can get into the flow of things! monnie’s already started chapter 5 off amazingly too :p written by both of us this time (mainly edited by monnie)! please leave feedback, like, reblog, whatever you can to let us know whether you enjoyed it or not! (re-edited because dongwoo and changsik were switched up)

WORD COUNT | 2.4k

TAG LIST :; @jonghoshoe if you’d like to be added to the list please say so in our inbox/ask box!

y/n was usually called outstanding, hard-working, smart. but in reality, he was an idiot when he was outside the workforce.

being a workaholic meant showing your skills, growing them, improving them, and practicing them constantly. sometimes it seemed to be all he knew— it’s what all the people around him saw.

yet again, outside of it he’s quite a gullible man; which brings him to his current situation��

“looking for something?”

he looked away from the bandages he was previously examining to come face to face with a man that looked around his age. “not really, just restocking my clinic. or—trying to find things to restock it with.” the man nods, glancing around suspiciously, although y/n didn’t didn’t seem to take notice of this particular action.

“this pharmacy is pretty small, but it has lots of good supplies… lots of hidden gems. want me to show you where i get my tools?”

“oh,” y/n blinked in surprise, “you’re in the medical field?”

the man made eye contact with him, managing a convincing smile. “yeah, there’s a clinic down the road from here, about fifteen minutes by foot, this is the nearest pharmacy, so we stock up from here most of the time. i work there as an assistant.”

y/n nodded, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “wow, then please! show me what you suggest.”

at the approval, the man nodded, “name’s changsik, by the way. what do you work as? i’m assuming you’re also in the medical field.”

they walked along the aisle of the cough syrups, ointments, and the few other medicines to turn and make their way to the exit door. y/n furrowed his brows, about to ask why they were exiting until changsik made another turn, walking towards the staff room.

“your assumption is correct, i’m a surgeon…” he replied belatedly, trailing off as he stepped foot inside the room. his eyes trailed on the shelves full of unopened boxes, more prescription pills, and—bingo! the supplies he’d written down on his list.

for a split second, the memory of san handing it to him flashes across his mind, blinking it away as he turned to changsik. “wait, how are you able to access this?”

“i’m a regular.” he glanced across at him, looking past the window. “and also the perks of having a pharmaceutical license,” a hefty laugh left his mouth, “took some convincing though.”

“huh,” y/n squatted down, inspecting a box that was on the floor, “i guess that makes sense.”

“just put what you need in a box and take it out. i’ll just say you’re helping me take it back.” changsik smiled, watching y/n nod and do so.

after a few minutes, y/n finished and announced he was ready to check out. changsik’s eyes met one of the cctv cameras before settling on y/n.

“alright, let’s go check out.”

as they walked toward the front, they reached the hallway that led to the exit. just as y/n was going to walk past, toward the checkout counter, a hand forcefully grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. he looked behind him, in a startled manner, thinking changsik had just forgotten something. however, a deeper fear struck when changsik’s hand moved to clench at the back of his collar.

“don’t make a sound.”

the second the cold blade touched the skin of y/n’s neck, the surgeon knew to stay quiet. there was a burning in his throat as he struggled to swallow, scared to trigger any abrupt movement. his frantic mind jumbled about, words of scolding placed toward himself and the situation while trying to get a grip. he thought of using the in-ear to alert jongho, but it would risk exposure of the communication device: in any case… he’d be dead by then.

“what is taking him so long?” jongho grunted, tapping his foot in impatience. it’d already been about 10 minutes since y/n entered the store—it shouldn’t take that long for a surgieron to find equipment that’s of medicinal standard!

tapping his in-ear and calling out the doctor’s name, he got no response. placing his face mask on, he rushed into the store, beckoning the cashier. “have you seen a man, about 6’3” with h/c hair?”

the cashier stared at him with a shocked look, “yes, but he went back toward the restrooms. is he dangerous?”

jongho shook his head before running toward the back of the store. he shoved against the restroom door, shouting out the older’s name as he threw open each stall door. finally admitting the fact that the older had disappeared, he tapped his in-ear once more, calling out for anyone.

“jongho, what’s going on?” hongjoong had intercepted the connection, hearing jongho’s worried voice.

the bodyguard had no time to register the primal fear that would settle itself in his bones once faced with the leader, “it’s y/n, hyung. he ran away.”

jongho returned to the headquarters after scoping out the area once more and had just entered through the front door when he was met with the sight of the whole group.

hongjoong was staring at him with his jaw clenched and an almost empty whiskey glass settled in his lax hand. jongho had never seen a look so severe in hongjoong’s eyes—he’d never messed up this bad. and apparently, the leader wasn’t the only one emotionally affected by his mistake, because before hongjoong could even physically express his own anger, san had snatched the glass from his hand and launched it at jongho, missing his head by less than an inch.

everyone was shocked at his silent outburst, san even going as far to ignore the immense pain in his abdomen and on his shoulder, but hongjoong simply sent the younger a look, causing him to cower back in the slightest. jongho, however, was enraged at what had just happened. what gave san, who had no superiority over him, the right to do that?

“what the fuck was that?” he had stormed over to the boy, grabbing his shirt with both fists. san didn’t back down, sticking his jaw out toward the youngest.

“how could you lose y/n?”

“i was told no matter what to avoid cameras, so i stayed outside! i didn’t exactly think the fucker would have the balls to run away!”

everyone watched the two, eyeing when to step in and pull them apart. but hongjoong let them run their mouths. the longer someone talks, the more something is revealed. what he was looking to be revealed, he didn’t know; but something would come up.

san pushed back against jongho, “y/n hyung wouldn’t run away. he’d never do that!”

‘oh,’ hongjoong perked in interest.

the younger scoffed, “what makes you so sure?”

san’s next words came as a bit of a shock, leaving the others with silent questions, “he promised he’d come back.”

bingo!

an awkward silence filled the room as they all stared, speechless at how hopelessly fond their brother had become for their hostage. as much as some of them hated to admit it, y/n was only a hostage to them at the end of the day. and for san to fall into a reversal stockholm syndrome of sorts was nothing short of a disappointment. however, that couldn’t be the main focus, y/n was missing and they didn’t know how strong his resolve would be in the event of torturing.

“run us back on what happened, will you?” hongjoong told jongho, trying to get a clear picture on what went down because the first thing they needed to know was why y/n was taken, much less, who took him. was it by the same person who’d been running their mouths in the streets?

and right in the middle of his explanation, an alarm went off on yeosang’s phone; it was a message. the others kept talking, figuring yeosang could handle whatever message he’d received.

it was when he promptly stood up that all attention had been placed on him.

“it’s him! it’s dongwoo!”

a soft whimper sounded as y/n was thrown to the ground, hands bound and eyes blinded by some piece of cloth.

“boss,” y/n’s kidnapper spoke in a submissive wave, causing y/n to assume the guy had straightened his spine and was saluting him in some way.

a moment later, a gruff voice broke through the eerie silence in the room, “and who is this?” his voice wasn’t angered or bewildered at all, and that’s what scared y/n. he sounded intrigued; like even he wasn’t expecting to be a part of this situation.

“someone with connections to ateez— saw that bodyguard walking around with him.”

the other man hummed, “the bodyguard didn’t follow you, did he?”

“no, no. i found them by the pharmacy; i know the area pretty well because i do the runs for sowon— i knew the camera blindspots!” his abductor seemed to be a bit on the simpler side when it came to this “boss” of his, y/n concluded. this was a completely different personality than when he was being abducted at the scene…

“good job. and you know what, changsik-ah,” his voice seemed to be getting more intrigued, y/n’s heart beating even faster in response, “since you bought in such a valuable hostage, i’ll let you have the honors of obtaining information from him.”

y/n felt the air beside him shift, changsik bowing a full 90 degrees at his boss’s blessing, “thank you!”

a sickeningly hearty laugh resonated and the creaking of a chair sounded before the boss’s next words seemed to be the final straw for y/n’s pounding heart.

“i want him alive.”

“he better be alive,” san growled at jongho.

“we might get to him alive if you two would quit bickering. we’re wasting time because of you two, so shut it and sit down!” hongjoong had had enough of the two. he knew it was a sensitive time for san and jongho, different reasons for both, of course, but they would only get nowhere if they weren’t level-headed.

the two boys bowed their heads at their leader, san still sending a side-eyed glare at the younger before sitting down in his chair.

it’d been two days since y/n was kidnapped and they still hadn’t been able to come up with a plan to get y/n back.

wooyoung tried to trace where the text message came from within the first minute it was received, but surprise, surprise! it was a burner phone— so back to square one; checking all of the cctv footage in the area and trying to spot a suspect that wasn’t even visible from the first frame.

the cameras in the pharmacy showed only y/n, the pharmacist, clerk, and four other customers. of those four, only one person never entered through the front door. and within those 48 hours, he’d managed to single out a vehicle that had arrived in the frame of one of the street cams showing the alleyway behind the pharmacy, and left the same way not even 5 minutes later. it was a suspicious vehicle too; white van, no windows in the back, and paper license plates. the paper plates hinted that they were most likely changed recently or are changed frequently.

and so after hours of having to witness his best friend be so uncharacteristically frantic and down, wooyoung, unfortunately, decided to do what he thought was smartest—save y/n himself to make his best friend happy again.

his intentions may have been well, but in stories like these, doesn’t something always go wrong?

“help me set the table guys,” seonghwa cleared his throat, hand on his hip as he stirred the soup on the stove. the steam from the boiling liquid sent another cloud to his tired face, a sheen of sweat and condensation forming.

“i really don’t understand why we are acting like we have the time to set a table and eat home cooked meals when we don’t!” san exasperated, pacing around the dining room.

mingi gave a sympathetic smile, patting him on the back before going to help seonghwa.

while mingi was more on the understanding side of san’s worries, jongho disagreed, “how exactly do you expect us to find him if we don’t take care of ourselves?”

“all i’m saying is food and sleep shouldn’t be this consistently on your minds when we’re all in this situation!”

jongho scoffed, finding the utmost absurdities in san’s words, “why are you acting like he’s so important? he doesn’t know anything about us or our weaknesses— for fuck’s sake, it’s not like we can’t just get another doc—”

a fist had flown toward jongho’s cheek, cutting off his words, before san’s thrashing body was being pulled back by mingi and yeosang.

“go to hell choi jongho!” san screamed, trying to force his way through the barrier the two had made with their bodies. the boy could feel his stitches tearing as he fought, but he didn’t care. jongho had been a bitch since the very first moment y/n was around, and for what reason?

“cut it out, san!” yeosang hollered, voice brute as he pushed against the boy.

“no, let me at him. he wants to keep being a little shit, i’ll show him shitty!”

“stop it! you haven’t even noticed, have you?”

san didn’t stop trying to break the barrier, focusing on getting to jongho and the other’s words, “notice what?”

“wooyoung’s missing,” yeosang began, san whipping his head toward him and trying to disagree, but yeosang was having none of it, “and you haven’t done anything but antagonize everyone here for not doing their jobs at your pace!”

“oh, excuse me for trying to be as quick as possible in finding him!”

“yeah, and who ever said quick was the efficient route to go? we’re dealing with people we know nothing about, but they seem to know a little too much about us, no? so stop getting on everyone’s asses and—”

“shut the hell up! please!” seonghwa had slammed his hands down on the table, screaming at the top of his lungs. every person in the room had immediately gone silent, words left on the tips of their tongues in a desperate attempt to fly about.

“you’re all going to shut it, sit down, and eat this meal like the civilized people we are and come up with a plan to get y/n back as safely as possible,” he gave a quick glare at everyone, blowing a puff of air at the lock of hair that had settled over his eyelids.

“am i clear?”

"yes, sir."

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firstofficerwiggles · 4 years ago

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Chapter 9: Not Without My Cyar’ika

Link to Chpt. 8, Link to Masterlist

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: M/E, 18+ only

Warnings: Canonical violence, death, SMUT, explicit description of unprotected sex (be safe in the real world please), mentions of the possibility of sexual assault (but NO sexual assault takes place in this fic)

Word count: ~10K

Author’s Note: I’m sorry this took such a long time to write, but I was at the end of my academic year and it was a tough one. You’ll see in this chapter there is a mention of cloaking technology, which I completely stole from Star Trek. As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

“And so he has her now… I- I feel like I failed her, but I’m going to get her back,” Din has been conveying the unfortunate events of the last few hours to the Armorer over a holocall.

“You should return home to the tribe,” she replies, her voice even and calm, “You need the assistance of your aliit.” The soft blue glow of her image in the holo is somehow comforting to him. He knows she is correct; he needs the support.

“You’re right, I do,” Din acquiesces. He says goodbye to the Armorer with a promise to see her in a few hours. Even if it puts the Covert in danger again, he can’t rescue you alone, not against the forces that Kerrick has at his disposal. A soft coo sounds from the co-pilot’s seat and he looks over at his foundling. The little guy is looking at him with an almost hopeful smile, and Din reaches over to let the child sit in his lap cuddling him close. He tells himself that it’s for the child’s benefit, but deep down he knows he needs the comfort too.

As he makes his way back to the Covert, Din is greeted at the mouth of the cave by Paz and another warrior. Both nod to him gravely, clearly having been briefed by the Armorer of the situation.

“We will stand with you, vod,” Paz states, and the other Mandalorian punctuates this with more nodding, “We should have insisted on mounting an attack on this Commander Hoven from the start.” Paz says Kerrick’s name as though the taste of it is foul in his mouth.

“I appreciate your willingness, and I’m ready to accept your help,” Din admits. His reluctance to take advantage of his tribe’s assistance and his feelings of guilt over Nevarro have evaporated in the face of his need to save you.

“The Armorer said your woman willingly sacrificed her freedom to save you and the child; that shows real bravery,” the other Mandalorian speaks about you with respect. He has black armor and Din recalls that he is called Throm. He continues on to say, “My riduur, Mirmim, became close to her while she was here and it would be my honor to help you with the rescue. Also, Mirmim has offered to care for your foundling while we carry out the mission.”

“Thank you,” Din says appreciatively, “That means a lot.”

Din follows Paz and Throm into the main area of the cavern where almost all of the other tribe members are gathered. Everyone grows quiet as they enter.

“Din Djarin, we are sorry to see you again under these circumstances. We have discussed the need to rescue your woman, and we have decided to send our best warriors with you,” the Armorer greets him in her calming yet authoritative voice, “I will also be accompanying you.”

“Thank you all, I am honored and humbled by your support,” Din replies sincerely.

“The warriors will meet now to formulate our best plan of attack,” the Armorer states.

A woman in pink armor comes up to Din first, before he can join the others. He recognizes her as your friend and as she greets Throm too, it’s clear that she is his riduur. “I can take care of your foundling while you attend the meeting,” she says with her arms outstretched for the little guy.

“You must be Mirmim; Throm said you were willing to care for him while we’re away… while we get her back,” Din says, his voice catching a little. His emotions are so close to the surface right now as he tries not to think about what could be happening to you. He hands Mirmim the child and gives the little one a small pat on the head as he settles into her arms.

“You must have faith. You will rescue her and your tribe, our tribe, will help you succeed. This is the way,” Mirmim reassures him.

“This is the way,” Din tries to sound confident but still he knows that Kerrick has a powerful and well-protected ship and many troopers. They’re going to need a very solid plan.

This is the first point he raises in the warriors’ discussion, “Hoven has a light cruiser with turret-mounted twin light turbolasers, port and starboard quad laser cannons, missile launchers and likely concussion missiles. Not to mention he has at least a squadron of 30 storm troopers aboard, possibly more, not to mention other officers who are likely under his command.”

“We have 16 warriors, and we all know that storm troopers can’t aim for shit, so I’m sure we can take ‘em,” a man in orange armor says confidently. He’s a younger man from the other tribe and Din knows he means well, but he needs more than cocky bravado right now.

“Din Djarin, has an excellent point though that we do not know the total number of fighters,” the Armorer says, quieting the boastfulness of the warrior, “We would be better to find additional warriors.”

“I have an idea about that,” Din says, “I want to ask the Mistresses from Angel One. I’ve seen their warriors in action and I believe they would be willing to help, although their old leader was in league with Hoven, the others were not. Plus I know we made quite the impression there… she made quite the impression there.”

“You should contact them at once,” the Armorer nods her approval.

“I also have another person I need to contact; someone who I think can get us into Hoven’s ship undetected.”

“You don’t think we can take them on in a true battle?” Someone asks.

“No, I don’t. We don’t have enough ships to take on that kind of firepower in a ship-to-ship fight,” Din explains, “I believe our best option is a sneak attack. If we can be aboard another ship that docks with Hoven’s cruiser, we can do maximum damage from inside the ship.”

“Yes, but how do we convince Hoven to let this other ship dock with him?” Paz raises an important question.

“We need to offer him something he wants, something that could make him more powerful,” Din answers, “Hence, why I need to reach out to my other contact.”

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Looking out into space from the comfort of your bed on Kerrick’s cruiser, you sigh and wipe at your teary eyes. It’s only been a day since you were forced to part from Din and the child, but you feel like you’ve spent an eternity crying wretchedly into your blankets. Fortunately so far you’ve managed to put Kerrick off from wanting to be with you and mostly you’ve been left to your own miserable devices. You think back to yesterday and give yourself a small pat on the back for accomplishing this small victory.

As Kerrick dragged you onto his ship, you felt yourself becoming increasingly worried for Din and the child, as you knew they wouldn’t have been able to get away without a fight. You repeated to yourself that Din was more than capable of getting out of a jam, but it didn’t stop you from worrying. You were feeling positively nauseated at the negative ideas running through your head. Not to mention, every time Kerrick leered at you over his shoulder, you felt your stomach flip in an unpleasant manner. It worked out to your favor, however, because once you were at the entrance to Kerrick’s personal quarters, you managed to vomit spectacularly all over his floor and boots. He was instantly repulsed and it put a stop to any romantic notions he had cooked up for your reunion. With a look of disgust, he had a storm trooper haul you away to your own quarters for the night. Since then you’ve been left almost completely alone, except when another trooper came by to bring you some soup. You’re grateful to have had the time to think, as well as cry, because at least now you’ve come up with a plan to keep Kerrick at arm’s length at least for a little while.

A crisp knock sounds at your door, but apparently it was only perfunctory as the door swishes open to reveal Kerrick, who clearly doesn’t think he needs to be invited in to your space.

“So, my doll, I hope you’re feeling better today,” Kerrick looks you over as you sit up on the bed. He takes in your disheveled appearance and tear-stained face. You’ve done absolutely nothing to make yourself look pulled together in any way and you can see by his expression that you must look rather awful. He grimaces at you before saying condescendingly, “I see that you must still be sick, or else living with that Mandalorian has caused you to forget all about personal grooming?”

“I’m still not feeling well,” you sigh and clutch your stomach dramatically, “I’ve started my period and the cramps hurt so bad. It’s making me feel so bloated and nauseous.” This is a lie, but you remember that Kerrick is one of those asshole men who thinks everything about menstrual cycles is disgusting. He never wanted to touch you at that time of the month back when you were dating and you’re praying the same is true now.

“Ick, did you have to tell me that?” He recoils from you in horror and you almost laugh out loud at his reaction. “You know I don’t need to hear details about any of that. Ever.” He backs up towards your door looking as though he can’t wait to be gone from your presence.

“I’ll have someone send in some new clothes for you at least,” he says with a frown, “I guess I’ll see you in a few days.”

“It might be as long as a week,” you say trying to sound as pathetic as possible, but any extra time you can gain will be helpful so you can figure out an escape plan. Or maybe it will give Din time to rescue me? Your thoughts are hopeful that Din will come after you but at the same time you try not to get too excited about the possibility because how in the galaxy is he supposed to find you? And how will he fight his way on to this heavily protected ship? No, it’s best that he doesn’t put himself in danger like that; you will just need to keep working on a plan to get yourself out of this mess.

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Din waits as the holocall works to connect to Eira on Angel One. He’s hoping the friendship you were able to build with her will be strong enough to garner her assistance in his mission to rescue you. When Eira’s blueish image appears, he’s bolstered by the smile and warm greeting she gives him.

“Mistress Eira, I wish I were contacting you under better circumstances,” Din explains, “Your warning was helpful, but ultimately we were unlucky. Hoven has her, he caught us in a trap.” He has to pause here to collect his thoughts because his anger and shame at begin tricked by Kerrick is still so raw. Before he can continue though, Eira is speaking.

“We will help you rescue the princess,” Eira pledges solemnly. “That man would never have known how to find her if it weren’t for the treachery of Mistress Sigrid. You must allow us to send warriors to assist you so that we can repay our debt to her and to you.”

“I’m so grateful to hear you say that, Mistress,” Din responds, “It’s why I was contacting you, I was hopeful you’d be willing to help me… to help us.”

“I know you were only here for a few days, but the princess left a lasting impression on many of us,” Eira tells him, “Both of you have helped us see that perhaps our society could be more open to outsiders.”

“Mistress Eira, I do need to tell you one thing, she… she isn’t really a princess, we only said that to make us seem more important so we would be welcome on Angel One,” Din feels sheepish admitting the lie and hopes she won’t rescind her offer. He continues to explain, “It’s just… we were trying to protect our foundling; he’s very special and we needed a safe place to stay for a few days.”

“You lied to protect the child?” Eira clarifies.

“Yes, and I’m sorry we had to deceive you like that,” Din apologizes.

“It was for a noble cause, I understand your reasons,” Eira sounds satisfied, “Now let’s discuss how we’re going to help you get your princess back.”

“She isn’t a princess,” Din repeats.

“She always will be to me,” Eira says with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re quietly making your way through the corridors of Kerrick’s cruiser trying to find your way to Engineering. Your plan has been working wonderfully and Kerrick has stayed far away from you. The first few times you ventured out of your room, no one said anything to you and they seemed to pretty much think it was normal to see you walking around. As you seemed to be granted free access to the ship, it occurred to you that perhaps you could find small ways to weaken the ship as a way to assist you in a possible escape. The first thing you did was check to see if your old access codes would still work at one of the workstations. Fortunately, they did. Same old lazy Empire, they never thought to delete anyone from their system because it would be too much work to keep those types of records. You knew you couldn’t make your sabotage too obvious or you’d be caught right away, but if you could do small things that could be brushed off as typical problems you would be able to create a whole host of annoyances.

You started with changing the lighting cycles in the barracks. The lights were designed to automatically turn off and on at certain hours for sleeping, but you managed to get in and change it up so that lights would randomly turn off and on at all hours of the day and night ensuring that none of the storm troopers could get more than a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep. Of course you locked your new lighting program with an extremely secure password so you knew it would be hard to fix.

Next you made your way to the officers’ mess hall, and while no one was around, you dismantled the caf machine and dumped several of the parts into the trash compactor. You remembered how strong the caffeine additions always were amongst the officers and now they’d need to go to the troopers’ mess if they wanted caf. In many cases this would mean they’d have to be far from their posts and stations would be left unmanned, opening up more opportunities for your little acts of defiance.

The destruction of the caf machine was why you were headed to Engineering right now. You had overheard the head Engineer and his assistant talking about working on the caf machine today because they were sick of having to go to the troopers’ mess. So you figured there was a chance you could do a little bit of damage in Engineering while they were away from their posts. You’ve just poked your head into the Engineering bay to have a look around when a lieutenant commander spots you. Damn!

“Hello, what are you doing down here? I thought you’d be in your room resting,” He speaks to you pleasantly and you realize you know him; he’s a former student of yours from the Sy Bisti class.

“Lieutenant Commander Roth, I didn’t know you were here. It’s so nice to see you again,” you force a polite smile onto your face.

He chuckles warmly, “Please, call me Sergio, and I’m sure it isn’t all that great to see me, but I’m enjoying seeing your pretty face again.”

“No, it really is good to see you, Sergio,” you tell him, sounding a bit more truthful this time. Honestly, he was one student you didn’t mind so much. You remembered him as a cheerful and handsome scoundrel, who was always kind to you. He never seemed too overly indoctrinated like the rest of the officers and although he had morally ambiguous air about him, he didn’t seem as truly evil as the rest of the officers you had known. Although he’s a little older now, he still has that attractive rascal look about him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Sergio smirks at you, “What are you doing down here?”

“I’m lost,” you say trying to think of where you could say you intended to go.

“No, you’re not,” Sergio smiles as he sees right through your lie, “I think you’re right where you want to be.”

“Why would you think that?” You give him your best wide-eyed innocent look and blink up at him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, “I know you’re much too smart to be anywhere but where you planned to be. That idiot Kerrick doesn’t give you enough credit.” There’s no malice in his laughter and he seems genuinely amused by your lie.

“Maybe I was looking for you?” You venture.

“Ha, that’s rich, you didn’t know I was here,” Sergio is very amused, “It’s ok, I think what you’re doing is brilliant and maybe I’d like to help you.”

“What do you mean?” You don’t know what to think, so playing dumb seems like the best option.

“There’s only one person I know who could have locked that lighting pattern with such a great password that no one else can figure it out.” Sergio looks at you pointedly, “After all, isn’t a password just a mini code?”

“Oh” You look down at your shoes, not sure what to say to that.

“Don’t look so disappointed! I’m not going to say anything,” he tells you sincerely, “I’d rather help you.”

“Are you serious, Sergio?” Could it be that you have a friend here somehow?

“Look, I know I’ve made shitty decisions with my life. I should have left the Empire years ago, it was a mistake to get involved in the first place,” Sergio sighs, “But I just sort of fell into this and the next thing I knew I had a little bit of power and I liked it. It’s a terrible excuse and I should have turned myself in to the New Republic years ago. But I’ve never been good at handling the consequences. I’m way too pretty for jail.” He says this last part with a small wink and a self-depreciating chuckle.

“You really won’t say anything to Kerrick?” You ask him.

“No, that weirdo doesn’t deserve you,” he says, “And I don’t know, maybe if I help you, I can redeem a part of myself in some small way.”

“Do you think you could help me escape? Could you fly one of the Tie Fighters?” You know it’s a lot to ask but you have to try.

“I’m sorry, but I think we’d just get caught right away, it’s too risky,” he responds, but there’s a sincerity to his voice so you feel that he’s being honest with you.

“Ok, so maybe we could mess up something here? I was thinking maybe the tractor beam?” If Din does manage to mount a rescue you’ll still be able to get away if the tractor beam is out of service.

“Sounds like fun.” He gives you a cocky little smirk and leads you over to the right workstation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Din leads a group of his fellow Mandalorians into an office building on Canto Bight with a shining plaque that reads “DeWitt Systems”. A receptionist stands up immediately when she sees the intimidating group enter the foyer and with a shaky smile she greets them.

“Welcome, Mr. Mando and um, guests,” she tries to be as polite as possible but doesn’t seem to know how to address anyone. Paz snickers a little at Mr. Mando but Din quickly shushes him. He thinks to himself that it’s a good thing half the group decided to stay behind on the Crest. She attempts to smile at everyone, as she gestures down a hallway, “Mr. DeWitt is waiting for you in the conference room; let me show you the way.”

“Mando, I’d say it’s good to see you again, but that isn’t the case under these circumstances,” Eugene is there looking sharp in a new suit. He moves forward to shake Din’s hand.

“Eugene,” Din returns the handshake and gives him a nod in greeting, “Thank you again for agreeing to be part of this rescue.”

“I’m happy to help in any way that I can, Mando,” Eugene says earnestly, “After my evening with your charming companion and you my business has skyrocketed, so I’ll do anything I can do to help her.”

Din nods again. When he spoke to Eugene earlier, he was worried that the man might not want to get involved in this type of risky undertaking, but blessedly you had made quite a lasting impression on him and he agreed to lend a hand almost at once.

“Have you finalized the idea to entice Hoven and get us aboard his ship?” Din asks.

“I think I’ve got something brilliant, not to brag, but I think it will definitely get us a meeting with Hoven,” Eugene is confident and he brings up a holoscreen. “I’ve come up with a mock-up of a cloaking device for a starship. The idea is that it can make a ship become virtually undetectable to scanners of all types.” Eugene shows a brief demonstration on the holoscreen of this technology. It shows a complicated series of mathematical symbols and equations and a diagram of a ship that vanishes when Eugene clicks a few buttons.

“That’s incredible, does it really work?” Paz wants to know.

“Not really, I can make it look like it works for about 5 minutes, but that’s all,” Eugene says, “However, it sounds really realistic and my tech mock-up is convincing enough that I think Hoven’ll be interested. If we get an invitation to meet his ship, I’ll be able to make us look ‘cloaked’ for just long enough for him to think the tech is real, but it’ll just be a ruse.”

“We’re getting that invite; Hoven won’t be able to resist tech like this,” Din states, “This is really great work, Eugene.”

“I have even more great news for you,” Eugene smiles looking rather proud of himself, “Do you remember the casino owner, Mr. Belvers? He’s going to lend us a ship. He was so impressed with the two of you from the party, you especially, Mando, and I happened to see him right after our call. When I told him about the trouble you were in, he was eager to be able to help out too.”

“Eugene, you’re more resourceful than I realized, thank you again,” Din is humbled and very grateful for the assistance. He remembers how jealous he felt over Eugene back when you all first met and he thinks about how much it bugged him that Eugene was so enthralled by you. Now that jealousy seems rather ridiculous and petty, and Din’s thankful that Eugene isn’t holding any of that against him.

After some additional discussion, they decide to leave the Razor Crest on Canto Bight and take Belvers’ ship which turns out to be a luxury cruiser. It’s smaller than Kerrick’s but large enough that it can easily transport the Mandalorians and the Angel One warriors. It’s flashy enough to be impressive but it’s not going to be seen as a threat in any fashion by Kerrick. Plus, without the Razor Crest, there’s no way for Kerrick to have any inkling that Din is coming for you.

“Alright, we’re ready for you to make the call to Hoven,” Din instructs Eugene.

“Let’s try and sell a cloaking device,” Eugene says enthusiastically.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve managed to keep Kerrick away from you for three days, but when a new dress showed up at your door with your breakfast this morning, you figured your reprieve from him was about to end. Reluctantly you pull on the dress, and try to prepare yourself for a difficult day. Sure enough, shortly after you’ve given yourself a little pep talk to psych yourself up for having to deal with Kerrick, you hear your door swish open. Not even bothering to knock anymore.

“Baby doll? Did you get the new dress?” Kerrick’s head pops into the fresher where you are fixing your hair.

“I did, thank you, Kerrick,” you give him a bland smile.

“Excellent! I know you’re still, ahem, untouchable, for a few days,” Kerrick says with a slight look of disgust, “But you can keep me company on the bridge for at least a few hours, surely?” He gives you a creepy smile that turns your stomach, but you know you need to do this to keep him calm.

“Of course, Kerrick, that sounds nice. I’d like to see you while you work.” You do your best to bat your lashes at him and then say, “I always thought you were a natural leader.” To make it through this, you figure your best option is to just compliment him as much as possible.

“Oh, yes, I think you’ll see I was born to be in charge,” Kerrick replies smugly and holds out his arm pointedly for you. You gently loop your own arm through his and let him lead you out into the corridor. When he reaches over to pat your hand you try not to flinch away, but he notices your discomfort.

“Don’t worry, my doll, you don’t need to be nervous, everyone will like you,” he lets out a small laugh as he says, “And if they don’t, well, they’re all expendable.”

You let out a nervous laugh at that comment, and hope to Maker that he is making a joke, but something tells you that he might actually mean it and you pray that you can stay as inconspicuous as possible. Even though these people have given their allegiance to a terrible organization, you don’t want anyone to get hurt, or worse, because of you.

Kerrick leads you to the bridge and then proceeds to give you an extended tour of the area, being sure to tell you how crucial and important he is at every opportunity. He’s such a braggart, you don’t know how his crew put up with it, frankly, and you’re surprised no one has attempted a mutiny yet. Then Kerrick begins telling you of some of his greatest accomplishments with the Empire. Each story is horrific and you feel sickened again by what he has become. He’s finishing up a tale of how he used his superior language skills to successfully trick a village chieftain on the planet Morak into giving up a major portion of his tribe’s land to the Empire so they could mine rhydonium and you can’t hold your tongue any longer.

“Kerrick, weren’t you ever worried that your actions could have serious consequences? I mean, look at what you just told me. Rhydonium is incredibly unstable and I’m sure that mining it must have put all of those people at serious risk.” You want to say so much more, but you try to reign yourself in so that you don’t anger him.

“Why do you care about a bunch of smelly villagers on Morak? They’re so beneath us, baby doll.” Kerrick sneers and then laughs, “You have such a soft heart, but that’s ok, you can use it to worry about me. I’m the only one you should care about. Why don’t you give me a little kiss? Show me how much you care.”

He grips your chin and you know you can’t avoid it, so you lean in and kiss him, but thankfully you’re spared from too much because the sound of a holocall is dinging loudly. Kerrick lets out an exasperated sigh, before answering with a slightly disgruntled greeting.

“Good morning, Commander Hoven, I am Eugene DeWitt of DeWitt Systems. Please excuse my directness in calling you without an introduction, but I believe I have an excellent opportunity for you. One of my other clients, a Commander Pershing, recommended I speak with you.” You hold in a gasp when you see the blue glow of Eugene’s face displayed and you know that this can’t be a coincidence. You carefully move closer to Kerrick so that the holo will be able to pick up your image too.

“Oh? What is this opportunity, Mr. DeWitt?” Kerrick seems rather bored but the mention of Commander Pershing is enough to have him a little curious.

“Oh, I’m certain you will be interested in ship cloaking technology,” Eugene says with a small flourish, “You see I run a technology firm that specializes in cutting-edge innovations. With my program, your ship can become undetectable to scanners of all kinds, especially those used by the New Republic.” Eugene gives a small nod and then seems to make eye contact with you for just a moment. Your heart fills with hope that Din must be involved in this call. Your attention snaps back to Kerrick though as he answers Eugene.

“Well, now I am intrigued, Mr. DeWitt,” Kerrick’s eyes grow wide at the prospect of this new technology and you can almost see the evil gears grinding in his head thinking of how useful a tool it would be. “But how do I know if it really works? Are you willing to offer a display of some type?”

“Yes, absolutely, Commander Hoven, I am prepared to come to you as soon as possible to demonstrate the immense capability of this unique technology.” Eugene gives Kerrick his best salesman smile as he launches into a description of the tech and displays several fancy charts and equations. Before you know it, Kerrick is sharing his ship’s coordinates with Kerrick and setting a time for a meeting tomorrow. You keep a placid look on your face but inside you are bursting with excitement. This has to be Din, he must be coming for you. If Din has gone back to enlist Eugene’s help, he must have formulated a rescue plan. Now it’s up to you to figure out what you can do here to make the rescue successful.

Kerrick finishes making plans to meet with Eugene and then he turns to you and grabs your hand pulling you in closer to him as he says, “You see my doll, I’m an important man now, one that other men respect. While all those fools think the Empire is dead, I’m here in the heart of it all making us stronger than ever. Just think, we’ll be able to traverse this galaxy virtually invisible to the New Republic scum!” Kerrick’s eyes light up as he gives you this speech and you can see that no shred of the man you once knew remains. The young man who shared your love of languages and the world of academia, the man who was once funny and charming, the man to whom you once gave your heart freely is completely gone as surely as if he died or rather was killed by this new Commander Hoven. You can’t help but let this sad realization show on your face.

“Oh, don’t be sad, I won’t forget about you, my beautiful doll. You’ll be right there with me, supporting me,” Kerrick says with an indulgent grin, “A strong, powerful man needs to have a pretty woman behind him, or rather, underneath him.” He laughs at his own bawdy joke and you manage a weak giggle that seems to placate him. It’s about all you can manage as his misogyny is making you want to punch him, but that won’t help your situation.

“I’m afraid all this excitement of being with you has me feeling a bit lightheaded,” you tell Kerrick, “I think perhaps I should return to my room to rest for a bit.” You’re not sure if he’ll buy this, but he sees you as weak anyway and you clutch your brow dramatically for effect.

“So soon? But we’re having such a nice time, and I prefer to have you here with me,” Kerrick says pouting.

“Commander, we need your approval over here,” another officer is requesting Kerrick’s presence.

“You have so much important work to do,” you simper at him, “I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true,” Kerrick says considering you, “I’ll see you in a few hours and we can have lunch together.” You nod to him and move to pull your hand out of his grasp, but instead he yanks you back to him hard and forces you into a kiss. You remind yourself not to struggle and just hope it will be over soon. “There you go, have a nice nap, baby doll.”

You hurry out of the bridge area as soon as he releases you and when you’re certain you’re alone you wipe your mouth in disgust. Oh, Din, please be with Eugene when he comes tomorrow. You’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to hold off Kerrick and his amorous advances. In hopes that tomorrow really will bring a rescue, you wonder if you can rearrange the storm trooper work shifts somehow. Since you heard all the details of the meeting, you know precisely when Eugene’s ship is scheduled to arrive and wouldn’t it be convenient if somehow there were a lot fewer troopers on duty then?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Din looks out at hyperspace from the pilot’s seat of the luxury cruiser. After a quick stop on Angel One, the rescue party is now complete and the atmosphere aboard the ship is rather jovial despite the danger of the upcoming mission. The Mandalorians and Angel One warriors have bonded quickly as they speak about the chance at a good fight with each group eager to show off their skills. Eugene is also in high spirits having perfected the way to temporarily mask their ship from Kerrick’s scanners when they arrive at the designated coordinates. It will only last for a few minutes, but it will give off the impression that the cloaking technology really works. If all goes well, Din plans to see if Eugene can rig up something similar in the Crest since it could come in handy at times. Who knows, maybe Eugene really will invent starship cloaking someday.

Din tries not to look at the time and count the minutes until he reaches you. Once the first phase of the plan was complete, he’s been impatient to get to this next step. When Eugene told him that he saw you in the holocall, and that you looked safe, he was filled with relief but also worry knowing that it meant that Kerrick was keeping you close to him. Din knows that you are smart and will do whatever you can to keep yourself safe, but at the same time he knows what Kerrick wants from you. He can’t let himself think about that right now though or the anger will consume him.

As if sensing that Din needs someone to speak to, the Armorer joins Din in the cockpit. “You have amassed a good team; I believe we will be formidable against the enemy,” she tells him sagely.

“Thank you for agreeing to be part of it,” Din replies; he’s still honored that she has chosen to accompany him on this rescue.

“You are right to be worried for her, she is surrounded by dangerous men,” the Armorer says, “But, remember, she was amongst such dangerous men before and she survived.”

“I know she did, but this time she may have to… he might force her…” Din can’t bring himself to say it aloud, and just the thoughts that swirl in his head are enough to fill his stomach with a deep, burning ire.

“You must not let your thoughts dwell on what might happen,” the Armorer advises him, “Your woman is intelligent and resourceful, and we do not know what she will or will not need to do.”

“I know you are right, but in my head I keep replaying the moment I saw him force her into a kiss and then I think the worst,” Din’s voice is dark and angry now.

“I understand, but you must channel your anger into your strength, focus it as a weapon to use against this man,” the Armorer instructs him, “Do not let it overwhelm you and cause you to be foolhardy in your attack.”

Din nods in agreement, “You are correct, as always.”

The Armorer pats his pauldron in response. It’s a small gesture but one that is full of meaning. He thinks again about how grateful he is to have her support and the support of everyone on board. He also knows that she is right, he must maintain his focus.

An alarm dings from the ship’s console alerting Din and the Armorer that they are closing in on Kerrick’s ship. Eugene hurries in to activate his tech virtually hiding them for the few minutes before they reach the meeting spot.

“Tell everyone this is it,” Din tells the Armorer, “We’re getting her back.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re certain the shift changes worked?” you whisper your question to Sergio as you’re standing on the docking platform. Kerrick has arranged a welcome party to greet his guest and you’ve been able to have a few minutes to speak to Sergio while there. There are still several storm troopers here and you’re concerned that Din won’t be able to handle so many.

“Yes, I went by the barracks just before arriving here and there are way more troopers off duty than there should be,” he tells you in a low voice.

“Good.” Yesterday while you were supposed to be napping, Sergio helped you mess up the storm troopers’ shifts so that only a skeleton crew would be at work now.

“I also decided that neither the main guns nor any of the missiles needed to be online today,” Sergio shrugs like this is no big deal while you look at him with surprise.

“Thank you,” you say, grateful for his help.

“Just remember this if I ever need you to testify at my trial,” he chuckles.

“What are you laughing about, Roth?” Kerrick has taken notice of you both and he looks annoyed.

“Lieutenant Commander Roth was reminding me about my language lessons and some of the funny pronunciation exercises I made the class do,” you lie smoothly.

“Yes, she had us doing these silly sound drills that made us all sound like a bunch of hissing serpents,” Sergio laughs again.

“Well, if you’re done with your trip down memory lane, perhaps you could tell me if you see Mr. DeWitt’s ship on our scanners?” Kerrick gives the command with a frown.

“There is nothing reading on our scanners,” Sergio responds promptly.

“Well, either his tech really does work, or he’s late,” Kerrick states.

“Commander Hoven, sir, there is a holocall for you,” an ensign brings over a holopad with Eugene’s image.

“Mr. DeWitt,” Kerrick says in greeting.

“Do your sensors detect us, Commander Hoven?” Eugene asks with a smile.

“No, are you sure you are in range?” Kerrick asks.

“How about now?” Eugene smirks.

“Sir, there is a ship just off our port side, it appeared out of nowhere,” Sergio sounds surprised and bit impressed.

“Well done, Mr. DeWitt,” Kerrick seems pleased, “Let’s proceed with docking and then you can come aboard to show me more about this incredible new tech you’ve created.”

You’re watching the docking mechanism intently, looking for any sign that this is more than just a strange coincidence. Suddenly a plasma bolt fires down the docking tunnel taking out a storm trooper. For a moment there is merely stunned silence around you until more bolts come hurtling in the direction of the troopers.

“What the fuck!” Kerrick exclaims as a total melee ensues.

You dive for cover while silently cheering inside. You take a peek and see the gleam of beskar helmets. Din is here and he’s brought plenty of help with him! Another quick glance shows you Mandalorian and Angel One warriors working together, fighting against the Imps. Although your first instinct is to run straight for Din, you don’t want to get caught in the crossfire, so you force yourself to stay where you are. Your hiding place isn’t very secure though and abruptly Kerrick is there grabbing at you and forcing you to your feet.

“Get up, you bitch,” he snaps at you, “This is all your fault.”

“Let go of me!” you yell back, but he’s too strong for you and he yanks you after him. You scream as loud as you can and try to kick and break free of his hold.

Din hears you scream and it immediately draws his attention across the fighting in time to see Kerrick drag you out of the area and down a corridor. He quickly moves to pursue you, kicking a trooper in the stomach and shooting another in the neck as he follows after you. Both Eira and the Armorer hear your scream too and quickly trail after Din, shooting a path to do so.

Neither you nor Kerrick are anywhere to be seen in the corridor, but this is no problem for Din as he brings up a tracking program on his vambrace.

“What’s that?” Eira asks

“I put tracking devices in her shoes,” Din responds, leading the three of them forward as he follows the signal.

“A smart idea,” the Armorer replies as Eira looks mildly shocked.

They continue down the corridor, weapons at the ready. As they encounter a few troopers, the trio easily dispatches them. They pass a sign indicating the location of escape pods and Din breaks out into a sprint; there’s no way he’s letting Kerrick get you off this ship.

Kerrick is pulling on your arm so hard you’re afraid he’s going to dislocate your shoulder. He’s got you at the escape pods now in a desperate attempt to get away with you. As soon as he starts to force you into one, you start fighting harder. You remember the fighting techniques from Din’s training and you manage to land a sharp kick to Kerrick’s shin.

“What the kriffing hell is the matter with you?” He yells at you in pain. You try to kick him again, but he slaps you hard across the face. The shock and the sting of the blow makes you stumble. But then you’re struggling against him again, hitting him in the side with your free fist and then whacking him hard in the face.

“Oof! Fuck! Stop it!” He slaps you again, harder this time and you feel your face throbbing.

“That is enough! Don’t you ever do something stupid like that again or you’ll regret it,” Kerrick threatens you and then brandishes a blaster in your face. The fact that he might actually shoot you makes you stop struggling.

“Please, Kerrick, please, you don’t have to do that,” you say your voice trembling.

“I won’t have to hurt you unless you keep acting so fucking stupid,” he snaps back. He still has the blaster pointed at your face and you’re afraid to even move now.

“I’ll do what you want, you can lower the blaster,” you try to make your voice soft and sweet in an attempt to calm him. His eyes are wild and he looks unhinged.

“That’s right you’re going to do what I want,” Kerrick says menacingly, “Because you’re mine, he doesn’t get to have you, and you’re going to keep doing what I want for the rest--”

But Kerrick never gets to finish that threat. Instead you watch as a bolt hits him square in the temple and he collapses dead at your feet. You jump back in horror and shock as it happens, but then you turn and see Din with his blaster still aimed from where he shot Kerrick. You feel nothing but utter relief and before you can think, you are running at him and launching yourself into his arms.

Din catches you and embraces you tightly, never wanting to let you go again. He feels like his heart is going to burst from the joy of holding you again.

“You came for me, I knew you would, I knew when Eugene called it had to be you, I just knew it,” You’re babbling you’re so happy that he’s here, that he’s really here holding you. “Oh, but I’m so sorry for the awful things I had to say, I didn’t mean any of them, you have to know that, I didn’t mean it at all, I love you, only you, Din.”

“I love you too and I’m so sorry, cyar’ika, so sorry that I couldn’t protect you better, I can’t believe I fell for his trap, I won’t ever let that happen again,” Din is babbling too in his elation at rescuing you. He pulls back a little to look at you and raises a hand to cup your injured face. “I’m so sorry he hurt you, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to stop it.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Din,” you tell him, “You protected me now, and you rescued me.”

“Well, technically we’re still in the middle of rescuing you, so maybe you two lovebirds can save the happy reunion until we’re out of here,” Eira pipes up.

“Oh, right,” you reply sheepishly.

“Come, we should return to the ship before more Imperials arrive,” the Armorer motions to you both.

Your group hurries back in the direction of the docking platform and you meet up with more of Din’s group. It’s a mix of Mandalorians that you met from the Covert and warrior women from Angel One. You’re so humbled that they came to fight for you.

“I can’t believe we haven’t seen more troopers than this,” Paz speaks up.

“I made sure a lot of them would be off duty now,” you say with a grin.

“You did?” Din sounds impressed.

“Yeah, I tried to do a little sabotage here and there where I could,” you tell him, “By the way, the tractor beam, main guns, and missiles are disengaged right now too.”

“You’re so smart.” You can hear the admiration in his voice as he praises you.

“I was lucky to have some help,” you demure wondering what has happened to Sergio.

When you are back at the docking platform you can see the resounding defeat of Kerrick’s troops. You glance around looking for Sergio; despite his allegiance to the Empire, you hope he isn’t hurt or worse. You don’t see him and so you hope he got away. You don’t have time to dwell on his fate however and you quickly head for the docking tunnel with Din and the others. When you reach the other ship, you see Eugene’s relieved face and you cheerfully hug him in greeting.

“Eugene! Thank you, I knew it wasn’t a coincidence when you called,” you tell him excitedly.

“I had to help, as soon as Mando told me you were in trouble,” he replies.

You feel the ship jolt and know that someone has put you into hyperspace and you breathe a huge sigh of relief and joy. Then suddenly you are surrounded by well-wishers as everyone tries to hug you or shake your hand in celebration of a successful rescue. Eira even picks you up as she hugs you tight. Someone brings you some bacta cream for your face and you wonder if you need it more to help relieve the bruises left by Kerrick or to soothe your aching muscles from all the smiling. Finally, when it seems as if you have been congratulated by everyone, Din is there taking your hand and leading you away from the celebrating crowd. He takes you into some sleeping quarters on the ship. It’s a beautiful room, but you don’t spend time looking around because all you want to see is him.

“Cyar’ika, I’m so sorry,” Din apologizes again, still feeling guilty over not being able to protect you from Kerrick.

“Oh Din, no, you don’t have to apologize,” you tell him, “I’m the one who needs to apologize to you. I said those hateful things--”

Din interrupts, “No, cyar’ika, I know you didn’t mean them, you- you just did what you had to do.”

“Yes, I only said those awful things to save you and the child. Oh my goodness, the child! Is he alright? Where is he?” You realize that you didn’t see him with everyone.

“He’s safe, he’s at the Covert being looked after by your friend with the pink armor,” Din reassures you.

“Thank the Maker! I was so worried for you both when I was forced to leave with Kerrick,” you say.

Din looks away for a moment when you say that, when he looks back at you, he says your name softly, almost like he’s trying to ask you a question but can’t find the words.

“Din?” You say his name prompting him to speak to you, to tell you his thoughts.

“Did he force you to… did he force himself on you?” Din asks and you can hear the horror in his voice at this possibility.

“No, no Din, he didn’t,” you assure him, “I was forced to kiss him a few times, but that was it. I lied and told him I was having my period and that was enough to keep him away from me. He always was disgusted by menstrual cycles.”

Din lets out a huge sigh of relief and pulls you close to him, as he tells you, “I’m so thankful to hear that, the thoughts I’ve had about what he wanted from you, about what he might have made you do… it was making me sick and I just, I--”

“I understand, my darling, but you don’t have to worry any more, I’m fine and we never have to worry about him again. You made sure of that for me.” Your voice cracks as you speak and you reach up to pull his helmet down to you to meet your forehead in a Keldabe kiss. Tears stream down your cheeks as you hold him to you. Din pulls off his gloves so he can reach up with his bare hands to cradle your face. You listen to his breathing and you can’t be fully certain, but you think he may be crying a little too.

“I love you so much, cyar’ika, I never want to let you go,” Din’s voice is thick with emotion.

“I love you too, Din, and I want to be with you, I want to go wherever you go,” you tell him.

“That’s all I want too, my love,” Din responds, “And I want to show you how much I want that.” He brings his hands up to cup yours, holding them to his helmet, and then he lifts his head away from yours. Gently he starts to lift your hands up, tugging his helmet with them. You gasp and try to let go of his helmet, but his hands are keeping yours in place.

“Din, wait, what are you doing?” you ask breathlessly. His hands stop moving at your question.

“Please, cyar’ika, please, I want you to see me, all of me,” he implores you.

“But your creed?” You’re so worried he might regret this that it’s overshadowing your desire to see his face.

“I believe it will still be intact, I trust you,” Din says steadily and although you don’t entirely understand what he means by that, his calm and certain tone make you trust him. You nod to him and he begins lifting his hands once again, and this time you help him.

Slowly you see his face being revealed to you starting with a dark stubbly beard, then full lips and a mustache followed by a stately nose and high cheekbones, next, warm brown eyes slightly wet with tears and framed by thick eyebrows, and then finally, a forehead somewhat obscured by wayward dark brown curls. Din is the most handsome and beautiful man you have ever seen. You’re afraid to blink or breathe because it feels as if a spell may be broken and he’ll disappear if you dare to move. It isn’t until you hear him saying your name, repeating it in fact, that you remember how to speak again.

“You have the most wonderful face, my love,” you tell him, your voice filled with awe.

Din smiles at you, a little upturn of the corners of his mouth before he tells you, “That’s impossible; I’m looking at the most wonderful face right now.”

And then he can’t wait any longer, he leans forward to kiss you. Din kisses you like you’ve been apart for decades, putting everything that he is, everything that he feels for you into his kisses. His arms wrap around you and hold you against his chest so firmly that he swears he can feel your heart beating against him. He feels a wetness on his cheeks and he thinks for a moment that you must be crying and then he realizes the tears he feels are his own. He breaks the kiss only because he knows he needs to tell you again that he loves you. As you repeat his words back to him, you reach up to kiss away the tears on his cheeks and Din thinks he’s never felt anything so tender and so pure in his entire life.

“Cyar’ika, before we get carried away, there’s something else I want to say to you,” Din says, stilling your actions.

“You can tell me anything, Din,” you reply, smiling softly at him.

“What you said earlier about wanting to go wherever I go, that is exactly what I want, for you to be by my side for the rest of my life, to share that life with me… cyar’ika, will you be my wife?” Din’s voice is emotional as he asks you to marry him and the look of love on his face is the most beautiful vision you’ve ever seen.

“Yes, Din, yes, I will,” you reply and you pull him close so you can kiss him again. He holds you as if you are the most precious creature in the entire galaxy, and when he breaks your kiss, it’s only so he can tell you how much he loves you.

“Also, that means you can have this,” he tells you as he places a soft pouch in your hands. It’s like the pouch that held your heart pendant and when you open it you see a new beskar pendant, in the shape of a mudhorn, the symbol of Din’s clan.

You unhook your necklace so that you can add this new pendant to it. Din helps you as both of your hands are shaking with emotion and excitement. When the mudhorn is resting right next to the heart pendant it looks so exactly right, a perfect combination. Din rehooks the clasp of the chain around your neck and you can see his eyes shining as he takes in the sight of the symbols of his love, his clan, and his creed on you. Before you know it, he’s kissing you again, and you can feel the power of his love in each kiss. You return his heated kisses passionately, wanting to show him how much you love him and how eager you are to be his wife.

“I love you, Din, with all my heart, and I can’t wait to become your wife,” you tell him as he moves from your lips to kiss your neck, “And for you to be my husband.”

Din nips at your neck when you say the word husband. He tells you, “Mmmm, yes, say that again.”

“I’m going to be your wife, and you’ll be my husband, my riduur,” you repeat in a husky voice.

“Yes, yes, fuck yes,” Din says before he sucks a mark onto your neck and then returns to your lips to kiss you hard, making you throb between your legs. When he pulls away finally, you feel almost lightheaded from the force of his kisses.

Din continues to trail kisses down your neck and chest as he tugs at the fastenings of the dress you’re wearing, eventually pulling it open so he can shove it down your shoulders. He barely gets the top of the dress down around your waist before he’s yanking your bra out of the way so he can kiss and caress your breasts. His hands grope down your body as he buries his head into your chest and when he shoves his hand under your skirt and works his fingers into your panties, he’s relieved to feel how hot and wet you already are for him. He tries to slow his movements, but he feels frantic for you, overwhelmed with need. His fingers circle your clit quickly causing you to moan out his name.

“Din, I can’t take too much teasing, please, I need you too much… I need you now,” you plead with him sounding desperate. You mewl as he pumps two fingers deep into you, pitching your desire into overdrive. It’s been too long since you’ve been together and your yearning for him is staggering. You manage to kick off your shoes and start yanking at your dress in an attempt to get it off your body.

“I need you too, cyare, so badly,” Din sounds equally as desperate.

He quickly helps you finish removing your clothing before opening his trousers and pulling out his weeping cock. You can see how much he wants you as his cock is rock hard and his tip is flushed dark. He’s still wearing the rest of his clothing and armor, but neither of you can bear to wait for him to take the time to remove it. He sits on the bed and pulls you to sit on his lap, straddling him. You start to sink down on his steely length but Din is too eager to wait and he meets your downward motion with a swift and powerful thrust upward, pushing into you all at once.

“DIN! Yes!” You cry out at the exquisite sensation of instantly being filled by him. You grapple at the hard, unforgiving beskar of his cuirass as you rise and fall against him. One of Din’s large hands is at your back, supporting you and holding you to him as he fucks up into you, while the other toys with your clit roughly. You are both moving fast, too caught up in each other to take your time.

“Din, you feel… so good… I missed you… soooo much,” you tell him, panting with the effort.

“My cyar’ika… I missed you too… missed being inside you… like this,” Din gasps out between thrusts.

For the first time, you look into his eyes as you feel him moving inside you, and you feel more connected to him than ever before. You watch every small expression that he makes, simply delighted as you see his desire and love for you play over his face. Wanting to see more, to have the chance to keep looking at his face causes you to draw out your movements, slowing your pace slightly.

Din also loves being able to see your entire face uncovered with his own eyes. The look of absolute love in your eyes is incredible to him and he feels a sense of belonging that he has never felt before. It is not the same feeling of possessiveness that he’s had in the past, instead it is the feeling that he belongs with you, that you belong together.

“Please, cyar’ika, please say you’ll stay with me, always,” Din begs you, despite knowing that you will, he needs the reassurance now.

“I will, I promise, I will, Din, always,” you vow to him, but then you need your own guarantee, “Promise me you’ll never leave me, Din.”

“Oh mesh’la, my love, ner kar’ta,” terms of endearment spill from Din’s lips as he tries to tell you how he’s feeling, “I’ll always stay with you, I’ll never leave you, never.”

“Din, my love, my Din, I love you,” you manage to respond and you feel your inner muscles squeeze him tight as the sensations of love and pleasure swirl around you. Between the feel of him shredding up against pure bliss inside you at a relentless pace and the sheer ecstasy of his fingers on your clit, your climax is rushing towards you.

“Look at me, cyar’ika,” Din commands as your eyes had been fluttering shut. You snap them back open and look deep into his eyes. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”

You cry out as you hear Din tell you he loves you in Mando’a and you careen over the edge, falling into his body as you are overcome with pleasure. He wraps his arms around you tightly as he manages to thrust up into you a few more times before exploding within you and shouting your name.

“I love you, Din, I promise I’ll love you forever,” you tell him as you pepper his face with kisses.

“I love you too, forever,” Din repeats back to you before he kisses you soundly. His arms encircle you as he holds you close. His heart swells with joy and Din knows he has found true happiness with you.

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

Thank you for reading!! Again, I appreciate your patience with me in getting this chapter out. I have decided there will be just one more chapter for this series, Chapter 10: The Mando Who Loved Me.

Mando’a definitions:

aliit = family

vod = brother

riduur = spouse

mesh’la = beautiful

ner kar’ta = my heart

ni kar’tayl gar darasuum = I love you

Tag list: @niiight-dreamerrrr @grogusmum @idreamofboobear @theamuz @fangirlalexia @callmekane @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @theravenreads @nicotinebirds @boomtownboy @nova646 @wandering-storm-lost-shadow @becks-things @rexsjaigeyes @mackycat11 @som3thingcr3ative @punkdalek @pinkninja200 @s-unflowxr @beskarprincessjenny @peppywitch @haley7242 @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @hotsauceonabiscuit @asta-lily @onabouteverything

#din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin fanfic #the mandalorian fanfic

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ilovejevsjeans · 3 years ago

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Why there’s far more to Russell than qualifying specialism

The old adage in Formula 1 that the first person you must beat is your teammate may be cliched, yet it rings true. Drivers constantly compare themselves with the man across the garage, knowing the importance of becoming the in-house alpha.

It makes qualifying head-to-head records a valued statistic for many drivers. As pally-pally as Lando Norris was with Carlos Sainz at McLaren, he took some pleasure in pipping the Spaniard on Saturdays across their two seasons together (11-10 in 2019, 8-8 in 2020). Fernando Alonso’s 21-0 whitewash of Stoffel Vandoorne in 2018 meant so much to the two-time F1 world champion that he was still trotting out the statistic 18 months later.

But even Alonso’s qualifying prowess looks workmanlike compared with that of George Russell. In his 46 appearances with Williams , not once has he been outqualified by a teammate. He equalled Alonso’s 21-0 sweep in 2019, when paired with Robert Kubica – a grand prix winner – and leads Nicholas Latifi 25-0 in their season-and-a-bit together. The only F1 teammate to ever outqualify Russell is Valtteri Bottas, who pipped him to pole in their single race together at Mercedes – and we all know who really walked away as the moral winner that weekend…

It has led to the moniker of ‘Mr Saturday’ being attached to Russell by TV types, who then rattle out those statistics like tickets from a slot machine every time he makes it through to Q2. As impressive as his qualifying record is, to reduce his significance to that of a quali-day footnote belies the true power of Britain’s burgeoning F1 star. Last year in Sakhir he offered a glimpse of what he could one day do for Mercedes, jumping in at the last minute and making full use of the tools at his disposal. But to be true world champion material requires a greater contribution: it’s being a leader, rallying those around you, and being a figurehead in the team’s progression in every area.

They are valuable skills which those around Russell at Williams have seen him hone since making his debut in 2019. “He’s just got better and better, and developed almost with every race,” says Dave Robson, Williams’ head of vehicle performance. “Not so much in terms of the driving, that’s always been very strong. But in terms of his understanding of the whole game that we play and everything that we need to get right and we need his help with, it’s just improved endlessly.

“His role within the team is particular, he takes it in his stride in leading that. He’s an excellent asset in all regards.”

The evolution into a leadership role was something Russell was required to embrace quickly. As the depth of the team’s plight became clear in early 2019, there was a contrast in the response of the two drivers: while Kubica – the more experienced, seemingly senior head – subsided into negativity, the junior Russell accepted the state of affairs and got stuck in trying to make a difference.

“2019 was an incredibly difficult baptism of fire,” recalls Robson. “Once he’d got his head around the situation we were in, he was extremely good at being clear about the order of the problems that needed tackling.”

Dealing with a car as devilish as the FW42 helped Russell hone his development skills and feedback, helping the team make big strides in each of the past two seasons and move off the foot of the pecking order in 2021. He even gleaned some helpful slivers of information during his one-race sojourn with Mercedes, feeding back to Williams that it should change its clutch paddle designs after sampling a different steering wheel.

The technical understanding he has forged is “right up there” with the best drivers Robson – once a race engineer to Jenson Button and Felipe Massa – has worked with: “His technical understanding of what the car has to do, how the tyres have to work, and some of the compromises you have to make, is now as good as anyone, I think, in the pitlane.”

It has made Russell not only an important asset to his team, but also to his teammate. Nicholas Latifi joined Williams as a rookie in 2020, and while paired with a younger driver who had just 21 grands prix to his name, he was quickly able to lean on Russell to help his own performances as he got up to speed in F1.

“It’s been hugely beneficial to have a teammate like George,” Latifi says. “Definitely in those opening races at the beginning of the year and throughout the year, [I was] learning from him what I can in the data, seeing what he is asking for from the car, what he thinks the car needs to go quicker, when I was just trying to find my feet and get up to the limit – for sure relying a bit on that information was very helpful.”

Latifi’s confidence may have grown into his second season, but he still finds it a “great help” to have such a strong reference in Russell – even when on the wrong side of the qualifying scoreline. “Part of it just stems from having George as your teammate,” Robson says of their head-to-head record. “He does have an incredible ability to pull something out when it really matters.”

But it is not just Russell’s on-track capabilities that have made him such a powerful and important figure within Williams. The soft skills he has developed off-track, knowing how to best work with the team around him and keep heads up – even through the trickiest of times – has been hugely important to Williams.

“It’s not just his technical input, but also the way he interacts with everyone and his positivity,” says Robson. “Although he can, quite understandably, get frustrated in the heat of the moment, his positivity and general way he is so constructive is very good and exactly what we needed over the last couple of years. He’s played a big role.”

At just 23 years old, Russell has a growing voice and authority that few of his peers boast. It has earned him the respect of the entire F1 grid, evidenced by his appointment as the GPDA’s newest director at the start of this year following Romain Grosjean’s exit from the series, wishing to represent “the younger half of the grid”. Internally at Williams, he has also used his eagerness to speak up to good effect, wishing to make himself heard from day one.

There’s something about him: when he talks, people listen,” says Robson. “It’s important, provided he’s talking about the right thing. Perhaps right at the beginning, he didn’t always get [that] right, but it didn’t take him long to suss that out and understand.”

Robson’s comment is another sign of Russell’s willingness and ability to learn from his mistakes, a trait that fits perfectly with the culture built by Mercedes in its evolution to a title-winning F1 juggernaut.

It was something that he has already had to put into action this year, having brazenly pointed the finger at Bottas for their crash at Imola and then proposed a theory that had tinfoil hats quivering across the F1 Twittersphere. On the flight home after the race with Mercedes head honchos Toto Wolff and James Allison, Russell said he was given some “tough love”, but he acted quickly: he apologised, retracted his comments, and vowed to learn from the saga.

It’s exactly the kind of growth Mercedes wants to see, and will undoubtedly be part of its considerations when it decides on Russell’s future for 2022. He is a free agent, as is Valtteri Bottas, the man he would surely replace should Wolff decide the time is right to cash in on his investment.

But where would that leave Williams? Robson does not mince his words, admitting it would be a “huge loss” for the team both on- and off-track.

“It’s been fantastic working with him, right from when we first put him through the evaluation,” Robson says. “It was obvious George had something about him, some genuinely outstanding talent to drive the car. And it’s been probably frustrating at times, but a great journey to be on with him.

“Of course he’d be a massive loss. I think we’ve all put in a lot of time and effort to help him where he needed a bit of help, to guide him, and it would be a real shame to lose that without really seeing the benefits of it in our car.”

CEO Jost Capito says he would “of course” hand Russell the multi-year deal he craves from 2022, should it be viable. “I think he would fit very well to Williams for our future as well,” Capito says. “If he believes in our future, there might be a chance to keep him.”

It is a future that Russell has helped forge for Williams. Steps such as the sale of the team and investment from Dorilton Capital has secured the team’s immediate future, but Russell’s role must be recognised.

Robson agrees, saying he “can take a good amount of credit” for the team’s progress since hitting rock bottom at the start of 2019.

Williams may have a strong history for backing and cultivating young talent, giving the likes of Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg, Nico Hulkenberg, and Valtteri Bottas their starts. But to be the force that helps lift the team out of its hardest moments, acting as the catalyst in its revival, arguably makes Russell the most important of the bunch – even if he doesn’t stick around to enjoy the fruits of his labour. (X)

#george russell #george

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akatsuki-shin · 4 years ago

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Review: 默读 Mò Dú (Silent Reading)

Notes:

(Very) long post ahead

Contains spoiler

This is my personal review and does not represent the entire audience, you are free to agree or not agree with what I’ve written here

Feel free to reply/send me a message if there are things you want to discuss

Using the Donghua poster because it fits the overall story more than the Audio Drama cover. :'))

Summary:

Yan City is a bright, bustling metropolis filled with all sorts of wonders, all sorts of people. From the richest occupying the city's most prestigious residential areas to the poorest huddling together in rundown slums, from the most fortunate blessed with a life of comfort to the wretched deemed to struggle until their last breath, from the virtuous walking in the path of light to the wicked lurking under the cover of darkness.

There is as much good as there is evil, and days gone by, people coming and going along with the passage of time.

Since their first meeting during a certain case seven years ago, Captain of the City Bureau's Crime Investigation Unit Luo Wenzhou thought he would never see eye to eye with Fei Du, son of a well-known conglomerate who inherited his father's position and wealth after the latter fell into comatose due to a near-fatal accident three years ago.

Words as sharp as knives dyed their bitter exchanges, even their personality was like the heaven and earth; the bold, blunt, and straightforward Luo Wenzhou - and the astute, secretive Fei Du, with his beautiful peach blossom eyes and a smile that is not quite a smile seducing countless people, his very presence seems as if it was covered under layers and layers of deceit.

Every single time they meet, they would always part on bad terms. Yet Luo Wenzhou would never have thought that a seemingly ordinary murder case of an ordinary deliveryman would lead him into the mystery of multiple long forgotten unsolved cases, turning over the Yan City and the City Bureau itself upside down, making him question his faith to those he respected and trust - and along with it, opening a door to the truth of Fei Du's past never once known to others.

STORY: 9/10

At first glance, the overall plot of Silent Reading seems neither extravagant nor exceptional. It's just one of those police drama where the main leads had to wrestle in a battle of wits with the villains looming around them, struggling to outsmart each other and eventually, bringing justice to those who deserve it.

But that is exactly what is so good about it. Silent reading could take all of those cliche and packed them into one nerve-wrecking, enticing journey from start to finish, complete with both intense and amusing interactions, and just the right amount of romance that does not disturb the flow of the main story.

And it actually does have its own uniqueness.

In most police dramas I've ever seen, the enemy is usually either a corrupt high-ranking official committing some hideous criminal acts by abusing their authority, or an individual/group with some very extreme values or obsession. Silent Reading, however, have both of those two most general types of villains in the story and what's more? It pits them against each other, pulling around and forcing the main leads to wreck their brains, slowly unravel the tangled mess until the truth finally comes to light.

The action and suspense, the atmosphere, the analysis, everything was almost impeccable to the point of perfection.

I have to especially give my kudos to how the author (Priest) structured the mystery in such a way, connecting one dots to the other from beginning to end. During the first few cases, I thought the resolution of the case didn't feel very solid, as if there are still some details that have yet to be properly elaborated. Yet halfway through, I realize that there is actually a bigger plot that encompass everything, tying all loose ends together.

And here, I would also like to highlight my two most favorite scene.

The first one is in Chapter 114-115 when Luo Wenzhou finally peeled of Fei Du's defense and for the first time exposed his true feelings, making Fei Du faced and spoke what he truly felt for Luo Wenzhou - that he really, actually did care for him. Their entire interactions and development up to this scene fits so well with these two main characters. There was no nonsense, no sappy crying and needless drama. Luo Wenzhou was as blunt as he was desperate and Fei Du, for once, admitted to the truth straight out with his own mouth.

The second one is in Chapter 157. In this case, one of Fei Du's most trusted men and an extremely important witness (that would later become their ally) were being chased and surrounded by thugs hired by their enemy. At this point of the story, the City Bureau was already in turmoil. Luo Wenzhou was suspended, nobody knows who they could or could not trust. Yet still, his subordinates all set out swiftly under his command and followed him to save the two witnesses, appearing at the most critical time.

It was actually a typical scene that exist in many police action drama, but given the development of the story, the well-built character relationship and interactions, I think it is Luo Wenzhou's coolest scene in the entire story and it makes me admire him a lot as the main lead and a leader figure.

One thing that does not quite sit well with me is Fan Siyuan's obsessiveness towards the late Gu Zhao. His motive for the crime was clear and I understand that he was using Gu Zhao's case as an example of injustice. But his extreme emotions whenever Gu Zhao was mentioned seems strange, even baseless. It makes me think whether he considers Gu Zhao as his own family or he was maybe madly in love with Gu Zhao, whereas in the entire story, unless I'm missing something, I have only ever known that Gu Zhao was Fan Siyuan's student - nothing more, nothing less.

CHARACTERS: 9/10

Silent Reading has a balanced, yet still very much appealing casts, from the major characters to the minor ones. Even the suspects and witnesses each had their own distinguishing features that didn't make them look like they were just there as canon fodders.

The composition of Luo Wenzhou's team itself is ideal; they've got the dependable leader, the smart advisor, the best friend and trustworthy right-hand man, the genius nerd, and the dependable aide.

I especially like Tao Ran (and I think most readers would agree with me). While he looks like the typical good guy type, he really, truly is a very good person. It's hard not to find him lovable. His relationship with Chang Ning was as cliche as it could get, but hey, as long as he's happy. Dude deserve it after everything he's done.

As for the two main leads, they are probably one of the most interesting couple I've found in the past few years.

Individually, Luo Wenzhou is the type of character I always like. He is confident to the point of having a narcissistic streak, but all of those are based on real talents and experiences. He speaks bluntly, but he cares for others through his action. He does not sugarcoat things and speaks the truth for what it is. Everything about him simply screams "reliable" as a leader (and a significant other to a certain someone). He deserves all of the respect and loyalty his subordinates gave to him.

Fei Du at first looks like a complex character whose real self is hidden beneath countless coats of pretense, but at the core, he is just a pitiful young man who does not know how to value himself, does not know how to love and be loved due to the abuse he suffered during childhood in the hands of his sadistic father. Despite his composure, his intelligence, his capability, he is almost like a lost little child, wandering in the darkness, going wherever the flow would take him until Luo Wenzhou pulled him out of that abyss. It is nothing less than commendable that he could restrain himself from succumbing into his father's manipulation, even if he has to correct himself through such extreme means for a long time.

And I'm glad that now he has someone who gives him the love he has long since been bereft of.

With Luo Wenzhou, Fei Du finally has a color in his life, someone to make happy memories with, and someone who genuinely love him for who he is. Likewise, with Fei Du, not only Luo Wenzhou got someone he could genuinely care for, he also finally has a place where he could relax, taking off the strong front he'd been putting before others all day long.

It was just so fulfilling to see two characters growing from "cat and dog" into inseparable lovers. They weren't sickeningly sweet, but just two people who are content with each other and would be each other's strength. I was especially happy when I saw how Fei Du changed his phone's ring tone into the one Luo Wenzhou in the extra chapter.

Now that I've finished reading this story, these two straight up went to the top of my all-time most favorite pairing list. But of course, this is just a personal opinion. Luo Wenzhou and Fei Du simply hits all of my favorite tropes, that's why. 😂

If I really have to point out one mini flaw, I suppose it's that the main villains aren't as appealing as the rest of the casts. They were practically overshadowed, even by some minor characters that only appeared for a short while.

TECHNICAL ASPECTS: 9/10

Just some very minor complaints:

1). When the story first introduced Fei Du in the beginning, it felt kind of abrupt. The narration had only been addressing him with his physical appearance, but suddenly they changed it into "Fei Du" with barely any proper start.

2). The international conference in Yan City (Chapter 2) was supposed to be a background information of the general setting of the first case, yet it was not properly mentioned at the start - rather, one sort paragraph about said conference was simply being slipped in the middle just for the sake to be there.

3). The switching of scenes between characters in the 3rd person POV are sometimes too quick with no signs of incoming transitions beforehand like taking shortcuts.

And by that, I mean that other than those three issues above, everything else was nothing less than perfect.

OVERALL SCORE: 9/10

A realistic story with perfectly balanced action, mystery, suspense, and romance - with a dash of comedy sprinkled at the right time and place.

Reading the novel from start to finish was nothing less than enjoyable. Whenever there needed to be a flashback or explanation, it didn't feel like info dump being thrown in all of a sudden.

I would like to point out a bit about the Zhou Conglomerate Case in Book 3.

Personally speaking, I think this is the most realistic case out of the others, and by that, I don't mean the crazy rich family drama.

The other cases in the books are something that to me feels "faraway"; murders, child trafficking, psychopath, organized criminal gangs. Yet in Book 3, due to the nature of the case, it was posted publicly for all to see, and damn if it didn't bring out the most annoying thing I actually hate in real life.

Clout-chasing media, meddlesome netizens commenting without thinking on the Internet, spreading personal information of the involved individuals without consent, handing down judgment based on rumors and personal opinions even if they have nothing to do with it (and know nothing about it), crashing the website due to mere curiosity, further hindering the police working on the case from doing their job.

They weren't thinking about those actually involved in the case, especially the victim. They don't care, or maybe don't even think that their meddlesome acts could cost a human's life because they see everything as mere passing entertainment. And if something were to happen because of their meddling, the most they would say is, of course, as quoted from Chapter 72:

"I didn't do it on purpose"

"I wasn't doing it to you"

"I didn't expect this to be the outcome"

"From a certain point of view, I'm a victim, too"

Even if I was just reading a fiction, at that moment I truly wished I could shut down the Internet for a bit. 😂

Anyway, amazing story. I might re-read everything from the start again when I have some free time.

#Mo Du #Silent Reading #Luo Wenzhou #Fei Du #ZhouDu #Review #Danmei #Priest

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texanredrose · 3 years ago

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Okay, to put some limitations on this, I’m only including the WIPs that I’ve done more than a synopsis for... that I can remember... that’s on Google Drive... that I actually think I might post one day... but haven’t posted yet because my posted WIPs are fairly easy to identify... okay... I got tagged by @unsteadyshade and I’m tagging @faunusrights and @alexlayer69

1) Across Time - Inuyasha AU where Weiss gets thrown back in time to the ancient past, where she meets two demons (Yang and Blake) warring against each other over a misunderstanding.

2) Alpha’s Devotion - Omega’s Strength, but from Winter’s POV.

3) Bears, Oh My - An exhausted Winter, lost on a hike, comes across a cabin where Yang lives with her three pet bears.

4) Brave New World - Continuation of the Dishonored AU where Ruby and Winter reflect on the new Mantle.

5) Bruised - Third installment to the ace!Yang AU.

6) Coming Home - Based on Dash’s Tiny Knight AU, Princess Blake is betrayed and stranded far from home and must rely on a reticent knight named Weiss to return to her kingdom.

7) Complications Always Arise - Papa Schnee is demanding Weiss marry before he’ll allow her to take his place as head of the SDC, so Yang volunteers to pretend to be Weiss’ beloved. No one else knows the relationship is fake, least of all Blake and Winter, and it’s just a bunch of pain.

8) Divided - Continuation of the By Moonlight AU where Whitley returns to the castle and Winter’s not upset by that- and Winter’s upset by the fact she’s not upset and has to figure out why her inner wolf is cool with this when she should, by all rights, be furious.

9) Dragonsbane - Mage Knight Winter hears tale of a dragon in the countryside that the local villages wish to see vanquished. Winter, however, has other plans.

10) Eye of the Beholder - Blinded and near death after a battle, Winter is rescued by the mysterious Yang and is nursed back to health despite her protests otherwise. (It’s a Medusa!AU.)

11) Fabled - Fable 3 AU where Princess Ruby and Princess Yang are forced to confront the fact that Queen Raven has lost her fucking mind, only to discover that fear drove the woman insane- a fear they must confront themselves.

12) Fields of Love - Farmer Yang offers a job and housing to apparent single mother Winter and her young daughter Penny. What starts as a kind gesture grows into something so much more.

13) Full Circle - Van Helsing (2004) AU, Winter and Weiss, amnesiacs employed by the church to handle all manner of unholy problems, are sent to discover what happened to King Taiyang. Along the way, they become wrapped up in a centuries spanning prophecy and a bloodline hanging in the balance.

14) High Bar, Low Blow - Yang owns a bar where the gimmick is that everyone’s an out of work actor and the staff is staging an ongoing drama on par with a soap opera to keep their customers coming back. Winter joins the staff and then things get a bit real.

15) Hoodlums and Hijinks - Robin Hood AU where Princess Winter and Princess Weiss are just as in favor for overthrowing the king as the group of bandits run by Ruby, Yang, and Blake.

16) Last One 2: Electric Boogaloo (title subject to change) - a sequel to Last One where the haunt continues.

17) Lexical Access - Sequel to Tip of the Tongue, where Yang gives her girlfriend a bit of roleplaying payback.

18) Little Red - Carmen Sandiego AU where Ruby was kidnapped adopted by a group of thieves and raised to become the world’s greatest thief, but a chance meeting with Penny via a stolen phone opens her eyes to the wider world, and she meets the rebellious heiress Weiss, street smart Blake, and brawler Yang, creating a team that works to foil Ruby’s former friends while eluding capture by mysterious operatives with a somewhat familiar white color scheme...

19) Long Term Investment - Yang, a fae who lives in the woods, makes a deal with Princess Winter to save the Queen. The price? Winter’s firstborn. Winter misunderstands how she’s expected to get pregnant and Yang’s never actually intended to collect. Next thing Yang knows, Winter’s moving into the clearing beside her tree home.

20) Miscalculation - Another Omegaverse AU where Weiss is an omega and Blake and Yang are alphas, except Weiss lied and said she was an alpha when enrolling in Beacon and now she’s locked in a room with Blake and Yang on the verge of starting her heat. Sharing is caring.

21) More Than Words Can Say - Winter, rendered mute by a military accident early in her career, is honestly the best girlfriend Yang’s ever had. However, tonight’s the night they’ve decided to get intimate, and that includes showing some scars that they don’t show often. It’s less about sex and more about trust and intimacy.

22) Music of the Night - Phantom of the Opera AU where the mysterious, disfigured shade of the opera house, Weiss, finds herself at odds with the rich, jovial Yang in a competition for Blake’s heart. Then there’s Adam being a dick, too, and the opera house has never seen so much drama.

23) My Heart Will Go On - It’s the Titanic, but double the rich, unwilling-to-marry ladies and triple the won-a-ticket-to-a-ship ruffians. Penny’s there too; she, like Ruby, just really likes ships.

24) One Fucking Favor - Winter’s due for a long assignment and wants to make a sex tape for stress relief purposes. Yang doesn’t ask questions; she’s just the one with the camera. But then, Winter’s partner for the vid doesn’t show up. What’s Yang going to do about it?

25) Prophecy - Star Wars AU where Ruby, Yang, and Blake are trained as Jedi, Winter and Weiss are part of the clone army, and Ruby’s the chosen one. That’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, but Senator Salem is there to lend a helping hand...

26) Propositioned - Faunus experience bouts of heat; sometimes, they can safely ignore it and go about their lives, but every now and again, they really can’t. Concerned for Blake’s health as she’s skipped too many heats to be healthy, Yang sets up a partner for Blake’s heat. Blake’s not a fan but she does like the idea of banging Weiss Schnee.

27) Proven - ARK: Survival Evolved AU where Winter, after being ‘won’ by Yang, is taken into the bowels of the earth to learn how the underground tribes who inhabit the area survive in such an unforgiving environment. As she acclimates to the tribe’s ways, she finds herself carving out her own path, culminating in facing off against the Queen and proving herself worthy.

28) Reaping What You Sow - When Winter escaped to the countryside with Penny to start a farm, she knew she had her work cut out for her. In need of help and facing a harsh cold season, she hires Yang, a one armed drifter, to help her. The two end up needing the other more than they could’ve imagined.

29) Tear My Heart Open - Blake thought she understood how the world worked. As a member of the White Fang Gang, all she needed to do was keep everyone motivated to continue their ongoing street war against the police and authorities bent on keeping them down. But while running from the cops, she’s offered sanctuary in the home of one Weiss Schnee and her girlfriend, Yang. From there, her perception of the world is completely upended.

30) The Duel - After her father offered her hand in marriage to the winner of a tournament, Winter opted to assume a disguise and fight for the prize herself. In the final match, she faces Yang Xiao Long, a competitor she’s come to know quite well, and she finds her conviction to win wavering slightly. Is it enough to lose her the fight?

31) The Lies We Tell Ourselves - Weiss has made it; she’s opened her tattoo shop in Vale, well away from her father, and aside from a bad first impression with the florists across the parking lot, everything’s looking up for her- until her father finds her. Luckily, Blake’s been through some shit and doesn’t mind helping Weiss drive daddy dearest up the wall, even if it means letting her own parents think she’s dating Weiss. It’s not like either of them is going to catch feelings... unless...

32) The Princess’ Bride - After losing her fiancée to the dreaded White Fang Pirates, Yang vows to take to the sea herself and exact her revenge. Princess Weiss finds herself falling madly in love with Yang, who still loves Blake, and all this is thrown into even more chaos when Yang gets kidnapped and Blake comes back from the dead!

33) Two for One - Yes, another Omegaverse AU. Five years after the fall of Beacon, Yang and Blake cross paths, each believing the other has spent the time keeping their mutual mate, Weiss, safe. When they realize Weiss is with neither of them, old wounds are torn open, but before they can resolve their dispute, Winter captures the both of them and hauls them to a remote part of Atlas where an SDC facility has been turned into a fortress. There, they find a mortally wounded Weiss clinging to life and raising twins daughters; she gives her mates until her death to endear themselves to their children, else the twins might opt to stay with Winter and be kept from Blake and Yang for good. Between learning about their kids, Blake and Yang navigate their complicated feelings and try to reconnect with Weiss, all while a sinister force gathers to destroy the fortress and steal the prize within.

34) Weaknesses - Loosely set in the Glamour AU, Yang is being forced to assume her mother’s position as leader of their vampire coven. Her fellow vamps disapprove of Yang’s werewolf girlfriend. Winter, of course, doesn’t care.

I got lazy and cut a bunch out. No, fuck you, I don’t have too many AUs, I will add more if I want. Also, some of these, the first chapter is posted on my Patreon. Don’t ask me which ones; I genuinely have no idea. I’m bad at this, y’all.

#Me jokingly: I'll number them so I can prove I don't have too many!#Present me is pissed at past me #I just know someone's gonna come at me for this but whatever #I can't control the words they just come as they please

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egoludes · 5 years ago

Text

let me come home: one.

Summary: After years at a dead-end job shouldering everyone’s expectations for you but your own, you’re finally free to be whoever you want, go wherever you want. That is, until a series of unfortunate events strand you in Amber’s End, where the sheriff – and notoriously unmated pack alpha – decides to take you in.

Pairing: alpha!Steve Rogers x omega!Reader

Notes: So, so excited to be kicking this off - eep! This chapter and the next will be a lot of setting the stage before we really dive in, but I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it anyway! As a reminder, this is for @official-and-unstable-satan‘s fic-off challenge! @fallen-comrade challenged me with gifs one and two, the first one being where our story begins. Divider credit goes to @writeyourmindaway!

Chapter warnings: Werewolf AU, A/B/O dynamics.

series masterlist / main masterlist / add yourself to my taglist!

The town of Amber’s End is a quiet one — has been as long as anyone can remember. Even Steve Rogers, their sheriff of fifteen years, can’t recall a time that trouble beyond a couple unruly pups had made it to his desk. Still, he takes his duties seriously. At the start of every day, he makes rounds, a watchful eye on each business as it opens. And at noon, six, and midnight sharp, he shifts into his wolf form and patrols the forests that circle the town.

It's Friday afternoon in a deep winter, the type that brought knee-high snow and teeth-chattering cold as early as November. A fresh layer of snow yields beneath his paws and he looks across the forest sprawl for disturbances. Usually, they’re far and few between. Most Amber’s End folk live near Main Street to keep the pack close, so it’s uncommon for anyone to venture this far without a reason. Even more so in the dismal weather. But today, Steve is surprised to pick up something — someone — at the far edge of the woods.

His first whiff of them is brief; enough to flare his nostrils, but lacking the potency for his senses to follow. He pauses still, head turning to discern the source. Then, a breeze kicks up — snares the aroma and makes it stick. There’s cinnamon and ginger, a hint of nutmeg too. Homey, but pungent scents that strike him, half because of how good they are, and half because he’s never smelled them before.

Peculiar, when Steve makes a habit of knowing every wolf in his town.

Just like that, he’s on the hunt, moving as fast as his legs can carry him through the thick of bare bushes and trees. He hears Bucky scolding him already for running headfirst into danger, no heed for protocol or his own safety. But, something in the scent’s light profile makes him think there’s nothing to worry about.

When he clears the trees around a far west meadow, he’s inclined to believe he’s right.

What he finds is you: a wolf barely half his size with dark brown fur and golden streaks down your back and hind legs. Between your size and the quality of your scent, it isn’t hard to work out that you’re an omega — unmated, going by the markless neck — and his interest is piqued. Not many omegas come through this area alone.

Just as he sees you, you see him and your body locks up. You’re not surprised to see another werewolf around — the area’s known for its dense population of your kind — but you’ve never seen one that size, even among your pack growing up. You don’t even need to get close to know it’s an Alpha, his presentation as visible in his presence as it is in his woodsy smell.

The fact that you aren’t in his pack means he can’t speak to you when you’re like this. But, it’s obvious that he’s inspecting you, assessing the foreign wolf that’s appeared before him. The scrutiny makes you just as wary of him as he is of you. Threatened alphas are a bad bunch, and you don’t want to do anything that’ll provoke him.

That vigilance only grows as he starts to close the distance, deliberate steps until he’s only feet away and towering over you. You acknowledge his status in turn. Head lowered, body arched, you’re nearly shrinking away; not afraid, but cautious. The Alpha responds by circling you, deep blue eyes tracing you from snout to back paw as though deciphering you from that alone. Now that he’s so close, you make out a steady, rumbling growl every time the wind picks up, which only compounds the growing tension.

You can’t seem to figure him out.

There’s another muted moment of inspection, then suddenly the Alpha goes from circling distance to inches away. His nose meets a patch of fur below your jaw, pressing down with such impact it moves your head, and it comes so abruptly you have to assume it’s pure instinct. Even the most controlled Alphas can’t stop the feral tendencies. And like him, you react without thinking, try to pull away. The shift earns a warning gnash of his teeth that commands you even without words. Stay put.

He’s soaking you in, likely to memorize the new smell. It dawns on you then that he’s probably not just an alpha, but the alpha — Amber’s End leader and protector. It would explain the caution, the way he vets you and the threat you pose. A few more minutes pass tensely, his breath hot on your throat as he drags his snout down the length of it. Then, he’s back at his circling distance, less intense and surly, and giving you a relenting look.

You can stay.

When he’s certain he’s understood, the Alpha tips his head towards a green Jeep at the end of the meadow. You nod once to answer his unspoken question, which is all it takes to start him walking you to it. Once there, he gives you his back - an offer of privacy - and you take the moment to shift and tug on your clothes. You clear your throat when you’re decent and he turns to find you bundled up from head to toe. If he were human, he might chuckle - even with werewolves running hot, this area’s known for its unusually brutal chill and it seems you did your homework. He can’t see more than your eyes under all the layers, but it doesn’t do much to stop the scent of you wafting out to meet him. He’s oddly pleased about that.

Meanwhile, you take him in, less on edge than earlier, but not completely settled. Being human while he stays a wolf makes you more vulnerable than you’d already been, and you’re uneasy, not knowing what he’s planning next. You shift on your heels in a nervous tick and quickly, he picks up on your nerves. Shifting up on his legs to take a running stance, the Alpha glances at your car expectantly. You follow the gaze and stare for a spell before you realize he means for you to drive while he runs along to guide the way. Briefly, you consider refusing ---- pack alpha or not, you don’t know where he could be taking you. But, it doesn’t bode well to reject his authority so soon after receiving permission to be here. So, you nod, swallow thickly, then climb into your car for the ride.

It turns out to be a short one, which you’re grateful for. And your nerves wane some when you realize that he’s just taking you to his car -- a large Dodge truck emblazoned with the county sheriff seal.

Like you, the larger wolf’s first step is to take on his human form, disappearing behind his vehicle while you get out of yours. When he emerges, fully shifted and dressed, you nearly lose your breath. The sight of him shouldn’t surprise you — you know that any wolf with that much presence would naturally have that translate into their human form. But, you still aren’t prepared for how utterly imposing this man is. Hair grown dark from the season, he easily boasts a height of six feet and then some, and shoulders broad enough to fill a doorway. He’s pulled on a t-shirt, flannel, and slack jeans that do nothing to hide the muscle that bounds him, and when he watches you through the hair falling into his eyes, you feel yourself tremble. Alphas are intimidating as it is, but him — he’s something else. “What’s your name?” His voice is as impactful as he is, and it takes you a moment to work up the nerve to answer.

When you do, he nods curtly. “Steve Rogers - I’m the sheriff here. You just passing through?”

You nod back, the action a lot less short coming from you as you fold your hands in front of you. “Yeah - doing a little road trip and this is one of my stops. I was hoping to get a room for a night before I head on.” You don’t offer more than that, and he doesn’t press you to. No probing questions about what you’re doing on the road, no offhand comments about being on your own --- just acceptance in the form of a hum and a glance down the road leading into town. You have to hope all his pack members are as gracious.

“Alright,” he says finally, eyes returning to your face. “I can show you the way. The roads this time of year can be a handful if you’re not used to it, so I don’t want you wandering. Hop back in your car and we’ll go.”

The second ride behind him proves to be a lot less daunting than the first. You take advantage of the broken tension to take in the sights. Amber’s End is known for being isolated and close knit, but you’d never heard about how picturesque the area is too. The woods grow less dense the closer you get to civilization, evergreens blurring to nothing in your periphery; but the idyllic nature stays put. The first buildings you see are quaint and comfortable, like something out of a 90’s film, and you find that’s a running theme as you follow Steve down what seems to be their main road.

For one in the afternoon, it’s surprisingly empty, the only signs of life people you catch through windows and briefly cracked doors. But, you imagine this is normal for them -- this slow, even pace. It intrigues you, and you make a note to do some exploring once you’re settled in.

From there, it doesn’t take long for Steve to get you to the Hummingbird Motel; Amber’s End’s first and only lodging in town. For a place established in 1935, it’s quite modern; exterior designed and painted in ways that boast knowledge of industry trends. Whether the rooms reflect that is to be determined, but you’re admittedly eager to find out. Steve pulls into the parking lot first, but doesn’t drive into a spot. Instead, he makes room for you and rolls down his window to get you to do the same. “I’ve got to head back in, but the folks who run this place are real nice - you’ll be in good hands.”

You smile at him from your window. “Thank you - I appreciate the help.”

For the first time since you’ve met, Steve smiles as well, the spread of his mouth giving his rugged face a more handsome quality. It’s almost hard to believe it’s the same man who’d so stoically assessed you moments before. “‘Course. That’s what I’m here for. You take care.” His final goodbye comes in a wave before he peels out of the lot. You keep watching him until he turns the corner and disappears out of sight.

Not a bad start, you think to yourself, slipping out the driver’s seat to grab your duffle from the trunk. The motel lobby is stark empty when you enter, which gives you an eerie feeling you’re not particularly fond of. When an old woman -- Peggy, she shares in a winsome British accent -- finally emerges at the front desk, you realize that that feeling may have been instinct teasing out the bad news: you’d just missed the last vacant room.

You’re disappointed, for sure, but nothing you’re not getting used to. You’ve made a point, after all, to hit out-of-the-way towns ---- the kinds of places that don’t always have the most forgiving accommodations. So, you’ve slept in your car more times than you ever planned for now, and in varying degrees of weather to boot. You wave off Peggy’s apologetic look with a reassuring grin before returning to your Jeep to leave the motel behind.

////

A few hours later, it’s the dinner rush at Ruby’s Diner, and you’re scrolling through an article with a french fry in your free hand and a bag of souvenirs beside you in the booth. After leaving the Hummingbird, you’d done the rounds on Main Street as planned and were pleasantly surprised by the range of goods it had to offer.

You tried not to get much, but couldn’t steer away from a few trinkets for your parents and the friends keeping up with your wayward travels. Now, all that’s left for you and Amber’s End is the rest of your cheeseburger dinner (outrageously good) and a chilly night in the backseat of your Jeep ---- a night you’ve prepared for with a blanket from your last shop.

You’re mid-swipe and bite when you hear your name from above you. You don’t need to turn to know who it is; that piney smell and rumbling voice are impossible to forget or misplace, and your cheeks are already warm when you turn to find Steve looking down on you.

In the time since you last saw him, he’s changed into a different shirt -- a blue denim button down that fits him well -- and found himself a jacket. It’s thinner than what you’d expect for a place so cold, but your guess is that he barely feels it, big as he is. You smile wordlessly to greet him.

“I thought that was you,” he muses, as if he hadn’t picked you out by scent alone. “How’s the rest of your day been? Settled in alright?”

You lift a shoulder in a shrug, smile still intact. “Hasn’t been too bad! Just missed a room at the Hummingbird, but I’m making for it with a little retail therapy and some good french fries.”

You expect him to respond with something equally light, but Steve’s expression turns sour instead. “Missed a room? You mean there were no vacancies?”

“Didn’t sound like it, but no big deal. I’ve slept in my car before, so what’s one night before I head out in the morning.”

Steve scoffs, a reaction that has you blinking at him in confusion. “Absolutely not,” he chides, hands coming up to either side of his trim waist as his gaze on you narrows. “The temperature goes double below here most nights, you can’t sleep in your car.” He weighs a thought, twisting his mouth to the side before nodding when he settles on it. “How about you stay with me. I have a guest room that’s ready to go.”

You, on the other hand, are ready to protest, brows knitting and mouth parted around the words. But, Steve beats you to the punch with a heavy glance, sternness only an Alpha can manage flashing in his eyes.

For a beat, there’s nothing but him staring, and you watching back, prepared to insist if you have to. Then, the diner door swings open ahead of some eager teens and a chill sweeps up to take the room. You stiffen so fast, your teeth grind on impact, and like clockwork, Steve’s scent stinks of sharp assuredness. When you look back, he’s got an eyebrow raised, expectant and sure, and his arms folded over his chest.

Your body sags with a sigh. “Fine,” you give in, “but only for tonight.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers au #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #alpha!steve rogers x reader #werewolf!steve rogers #werewolf!steve rogers x reader

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notebooknebula · 4 years ago

Video

youtube

Update on Jay’s Latest Real Estate Deal

https://www.jayconner.com/update-on-jays-latest-real-estate-deal/

Jay is right in the middle of his recent deal at 109 Broad Street in Beaufort, North Carolina.

In this video, he will tell you how he found this deal, how it is funded, and all the numbers that made this deal possible.

First lesson: How to find this type of deal? You need to have a Bird Dog.

What is a Bird Dog?

A Bird Dog is someone that you have who rides around town looking for sale by owner sign or signs of distressed property. They then take a picture of the sign, the property, and take notes of the address and other important details.

Through that, you can now find out the information about the property such as the name of the owner then start reaching out to them.

In this particular story, Jay’s bird dog sent him a picture of this property with a phone number on the for sale sign. Then, Jay forwards the details of the property to his “acquisitionist”.

An acquisitionist is in charge of talking, negotiating, and getting information on the properties initially before Jay gets involved in looking at the numbers.

Through Jay’s acquisitionist, they learned that the selling price of the owner for this property is $299,999. In addition, the owner specifically said that she will not take any offer that is less than the said amount.

Next step, get your realtor to calculate the after repaired value of the house. Now, Jay’s realtor prepared the Comparable Analysis of this property and the after repaired value that came out is $350,000. The difference between the seller’s asking price and the ARV is only $50,000.

What comes next? When they make the calculations of the rehab to make this house a beautiful property the number is $20,000.

Now, what in the world is Jay going to do to make this deal possible?

Watch the full video and discover all the lessons that you need to learn on how to make over $100K profit on a deal just like this.

What can Jay Conner and The Private Money can do for you?

First of all, Jay has got a new book entitled “Where to Get the Money Now?” You can get the book at www.JayConner.com/Book and learn the step by step process on how to get all the private money that you ever need for your deals.

Secondly, Jay has got a monthly membership called The Private Money Academy. He is there, live twice a month for at least one hour of zoom coaching for all the Private Academy members. You are invited to join for a free two-week trial at www.JayConner.com/Trial

Lastly, sign up for free at his upcoming live event. If you want to know what is happening in this live event then check out this link. www.JayConner.com/LearnRealEstate

Real Estate Cashflow Conference:

https://www.jayconner.com/learnreales…

Free Webinar:

http://bit.ly/jaymoneypodcast

Jay Conner is a proven real estate investment leader. Without using his own money or credit, Jay maximizes creative methods to buy and sell properties with profits averaging $64,000 per deal.

#RealEstate

#PrivateMoney

#FlipYourHouse

What is Real Estate Investing? Live Cashflow Conference

https://youtu.be/QyeBbDOF4wo Channel

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZfl...

https://www.youtube.com/c/RealEstateI...

RSS Feed

http://realestateinvestingdeals.mypod...

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https://play.google.com/music/listen#...

iTunes:

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

I'm right in the middle of this deal at 109 broad street that just started a week and a half ago. And in just a moment, I'm going to tell you how I found it, how it's being funded, all the numbers, how I structured it and how you too can make over $100,000 in profit on a deal just like this.

Well, hello there I'm Jay Conner, the Private Money Authority. And welcome back to another episode of Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner. I'm Jay Conner your host of the show. And as I said, the Private Money Authority, if you're new to the show, a very special welcome. We talk here on the show, all things real estate. We talk about how to find deals, how to fund deals, how to get them rehabbed. If rehabbing is involved, how to get them so quickly and how to automate the entire process to where you really can make realistically a six figure income or more, and working less than 10 hours per week. I started in this business back in 2003, investing in single family houses. And since that time we've rehabbed over 400 of them done a lot more deals than that. But as far as rehabs go, we've done over 400.

Well on today's show. I want to share with you this deal, that I'm in the middle of right now, and I tell you I haven't even closed on it. And there are so many lessons to learn from this one deal. So again, it's located at 109 broad street, right over here in Beaufort, North Carolina. And so, first of all, let me just go through the steps as to what happened first and the kind of profits that are taking place on this deal and the lessons that you can learn from this, that you can apply into your real estate investing business as well. So about a week and a half ago, I got a text right here on my cell phone. I got a picture of a for sale by owner, also known as a FSBO sign in front of a house over here in Beaufort.

Well, the text came in from what I call one of my bird dogs. So what in the world is a bird dog in the real estate investing world? What a bird dog is someone that you have as they ride around about town. When they see a for sale by owner sign or signs of a distressed property. Alright, it may look vacant, may have newspapers on the front porch may have grown up, you know, grass, et cetera, either FSBO signs or distress properties. And you have your friend or hired bird dog. You have them take a picture of the FSBO sign and the address of the property. Now, if there's no FSBO sign and it's a distressed property, just have them take a picture of the house and text you the physical address, you can then skip, trace that information and find out who the owner is.

And then start reaching out to them either by direct mail, outbound phone calling, et cetera, on this particular story. I want to tell you exactly what happens. So one of my bird dogs took a picture of this FSBO sign. It's going to have the phone number of the cell phone number of the owner that was selling it. And they also sent me a picture of the house. So I received the text, looked at it and I forwarded the text on to my acquisitionist right? And so acquisitionist what's an acquisitionists. This is Kim in our world, mine and Carol Joy's world. And Kim's been with us since 2004. She's in charge of talking and negotiating and getting information on properties. Initially, before I get involved in looking at the numbers. So Kim got that text from me, and she called up the cell number.

Got the owner on the phone, and got the initial information on the property. So first lesson learned is I would not have gotten this late at all. I would not have this house from the contract, which I now do. I would not have it under contract unless I had my bird dogs in place, because I'm not riding around myself, looking for FSBO signs or distress properties. I have other people. So first lesson gotta have a bird dog, or I would've missed out on this deal. Now, Kim calls up the owner, gets the information on the property. This house was built in 1910. So this is in the historical district. It's only one block from the water fantastic location. So she gets all the information on the property, sends it to me. I look at it and yes, I want our realtor to calculate the after repaired value of the house.

Now let's just see if there's any kind of spread, between what the seller is asking and what the actual repaired value is. Bear in mind at this point in time in the timeline, we do not know what the repair estimate is yet. So we know what the seller's toes, but of course, we're not going to know what it is until we actually go look. But first we want to see if there's some kind of spread between after repaired value, also known as ARV and the seller was asking price. The sellers asking price is $299,900. And make note, the seller said, do not call me back and offer anything less because I'm not going to take one penny less than $299,900. So we have our realtor go ahead and calculate the after repaired value. This is based on sold comps that are near the property.

So, our realtors figures it up in less than 24 hours, we get a complete CMA also known as like comparable market analysis, emailed to us from our realtor that knows this area, like the back of his hand and the after repaired value comes back in at $350,000. Sounds like a pretty good spread so far, but what are the repairs? Well, there's been 299,900 and 350 is only $50,000, right? So there's any kind of repairs whatsoever. Then I know those numbers aren't going to work. So anyway, we want to go take a look at the house. We'd go to $50,000, spread, less repairs. So I have Kim our acquisition get back in touch with the seller. We found out that the seller and her brother are the heirs of this property, the house is vacant. Nobody's living in it. It's free and clear.

There's no mortgages there's no liens attached to it that we know of. Of course, we'll have a title search done by our attorney before we closed. Always get a title search done before you close. And so we want to go take a look well, in just that short two day period between getting the lead from a bird dog, sending it to Kim the acquisitionist getting the seller on the phone, getting the information, getting our realtor to give us the ARV in that two day period of time Kim calls up the seller and we find out that the seller has already listed the property with their real estate agent. No problem. It's listed with a realtor. That's fine. I'm planning on buying it with private money anyway. So, when heirs are involved, it's going to be very, very difficult to negotiate any kind of buying a property on terms with creative financing, with seller financing or what have you.

So I don't want to use private money, paying all cash. And I'll make my offer with all cash and no contingencies. So we set the appointment and my realtor and my contractor go out to the house to take a look and estimate repairs. I'm out of town, I was visiting family. So I'm not even here. Another lesson learned you don't have to be looking at houses yourself, but you must have trustworthy boots on the ground. They can be your eyes for you. So my realtor and my contractor to go and take a look. I get a complete budget sheet sent to me. Repairs are coming in at about $20,000 in repairs to make this home look absolutely beautiful. And it's all cosmetic.It's only got 891 heated square feet, It's a little cottage there in 1910.

Why is it so valuable at $350,000? Number one, location, one block from the water. Number two, these historical houses are hotter than pancakes. So location the attraction of this 1910 cottage, all the stars are lining up. So let's run the numbers. So remember, in order to calculate your maximum allowable offer also known as MAO, your maximum allowable offer. When the after repaired value is above $300,000. In this case, 350. We're going to multiply times 80%. Now I will tell you, I believe the 350,000 is very conservative because my real estate agent, our realtor is very conservative. I believe in this hot market. When I fixed it up, I will be able to sell this house for 375. I really do. Let's run the calculations both ways. If we use the ultra conservative figure of $350,000 and above 300,000, we're going to multiply times 80%, that equals $280,000.

So let's run that again, just to make sure $350,000 times .80, we're leading up to figuring our maximum allowable offer is $280,000. Now repairs are how much $20,000. I'm not going to subtract $20,000 from the $280,000 figure. That gives me a MAO, a maximum allowable offer of 260,000, a thousand dollars. Now, do I ever offer MAO? of two or you know of what it comes up to? Excuse me. And the answer is no. I always throw in at least a $10,000 buffer below the maximum allowable offer to account for who we call Murphy, right? Murphy is the unexpected evil one that might show up with unexpected repairs, Murphy lives in every house, right? So I'm going to subtract an additional $10,000 from the $260,000. So now my offer to the seller is $250,000. Now, do you remember what I said a moment ago?

When my acquisition is Kim talked with the, the sister, she said, don't call me back unless you're and try to offer one penny less than $299,900. Well, we're not calling her back, right? I can't call her back. Now. Maybe I could, but there's no need to call her back because she now has the property listed with a realtor. So all communication now is going through my realtor to their realtor, bear in mind. And remember whenever I'm making offers through my real estate agent to another real estate agent, that's got the listing. Well guess who is paying my real estate agent to represent me. If I get the offer accepted, not me. The seller is paying all the realtors for when are acquiring and purchasing a property. So I communicate back to my real estate agent and his name is Chris. Make the call offer for $250,000.

And here's how I want you to know, make the offer. Lots of lessons here. First of all, tell them it's going to be all cash with no loan contingencies , all cash, no loan contingencies. That's very important. This is called the and this is a writer down right here. The cleaner your offer, the more offers get accepted. In other words, don't put conditions. Don't put contingencies on your offer. If you wanted to get accepted, right? Now, when I say no lung contingencies, can I still buy the house with private money? Absolutely. Yes. When I say I'm making the offer with no loan contingencies, all that means is I'm not making the offer conditional upon me having to go get approved for a loan. Right? So, I told my real estate agent made the offer all cash $250,000, no loan contingencies, even though I'm gonna use private money to pay for it.

And I'll close within two weeks. I also instructed my real estate agent to make the offer and tell them this is a maximum offer, one time only offer. This is a maximum one time only offer. In other words, here's my all cash offer, take it or leave it, you ain't getting this offer from me anymore. That's called fear of loss, right? So remember the seller had told my acquisitionist, they wouldn't take one penny less than $299,900. And here I'm coming with an offer all clean at 250. Guess what? The same day the offer was made, they accepted the offer $250,000 just as we presented the offer big lesson right here folks, huge lesson. And that is, and you wanna write this down, seller of a property does not know what they will accept from you went from your, with your offer until you make the offer.

That's huge. The sale. I don't care what and I'm not saying the seller lied. When the seller, at that point in time said, we won't take one penny less than what we're asking, but there's a big difference. There's a whole different paradigm going on here between the seller saying, I won't take less than X and you actually making the offer. So what's the lesson learned on that piece of this deal. If there's a property you're interested in, make the offer and let the math make the decision, make the offer, regardless of what the seller said they would take or wouldn't take. And let me tell you this as just another side important lesson, if you're a real estate agent says they won't accept that they didn't accept that two weeks ago or whatever. I'm not even making the offer. You tell your real estate agent and by law.

They're required. If you make an offer, if you give them an offer, they're required by law to make the offer. You tell them to make the offer. So I'm scheduled the close on this property. We're under contract, I'm scheduled to close he's on it next week and let's review the lessons learned lots of lessons here. Number one, if I didn't have a bird dog in place to take pictures of FSBO signs and send in to me and us, I wouldn't have gotten this deal. Number two lesson, if I didn't have private money lined up, ready to fund this deal to where I could close in two weeks. I wouldn't have got this deal. Number three, I didn't listen to what the seller said and said, don't make me an offer. Listen 299,900. We offered 250,000, 50,000 less than they said they'd take.

And they took it. Next lesson. I had my contractor had a relationship with my contractor to where the contractor could get out there within 24 hours and estimate repairs. So the contractor relationship was very important. Number the next lesson, my real estate agent, my relationship with my realtor. If I didn't have a relationship with Chris that can get out there right away and also look at the property. And also in less than 24 hours, get me the after repaired value as to what that property would be worth after it's all fixed up, I would have missed out. Another important relationship is the relationship with my real estate attorney. You say, I can't make an offer that I'll close within two weeks, unless I've got a relationship with a real estate attorney that can actually get it done in today's hot market. If just somebody off the street called up my real estate attorneys and say, I've got a property that I want to buy.

They are booked out at least four weeks before they can do any closings. But since I've got the relationship and you should as well, you got the relationship with the real estate attorney. They can get the title search done quickly, never buy a house without a title search, never buy a house without title insurance, and we can get it done. Also another relationship, a home inspection company, when you're doing a rehab like this and this kind of money, you never buy a house without a home inspection and make sure that you, you know, you don't have a big old Murphy showing up that you didn't expect. So you want to have the relationship in place with your home inspection company as well. So there you have it. Now, I'm going to tell you in an upcoming episode, very shortly after this, when I'm actually going to be on location with my videographer taking me through the house and you actually seeing what we are doing in this house.

So there you have it folks, 109 broad street, and a lot of lessons learned that you can put to use as a real estate investor. So let me ask you a question. What can Jay Conner and private money do for you? Well, there's a few things that private money and Jay Conner can do for you. And here's how you can get plugged in. First of all, I've got my new book, which is called where to get the money now, and you can go get the book at www.JayConner.com/Book and get that downloaded and, or get it shipped to you. And you can learn step by step on how to get all the private money you'd ever need for your deals. So you don't miss out.

Number two way how to get plugged into private money. And Jay Conner, is I've got a monthly membership called the Private Money Academy and I'm on there live twice a month for at least one hour of Zoom coaching for all the Private Money Academy members. And you can come join the party at, for free for a two week trial at www.JayConner.com/Trial and come check us out. And I'm telling you, it's just amazing the interaction that we have with all the Academy members. And then thirdly, come on over and get involved and sign up for free in my upcoming live event. If you want to learn what goes on at the live event, you can check it all www.JayConner.com/LearnRealEstate.

Again, that's www.JayConner.com/LearnRealEstate. And I see Cynthia has commented in here, Cynthia, thank you so much for saying hello. Yes. Being new to real estate, investing in Charlotte, North Carolina, looking on mastering subject two deals. As a matter of fact, Charlotte, I mean Cynthia and my upcoming live event, I teach the subject to strategy so you can get to the upcoming live event for free again, www.JayConner.com/LearnRealEstate. Well, I'm so glad you joined us here for another episode of real estate investing with Jay Conner, I'm Jay Conner, the Private Money Authority wishing you all the best and here's to taking your business to the next level. We'll see you on the inside on the next show.

#Jay Conner #Private Money Lender #Real Estate Business #Real Estate #Real Estate Investing #Real Estate Investor #Real Estate Profit #The Money Private Authority

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wolfywordweaver · 4 years ago

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Trans Mages Week 2021 DAY 6 - solidarity, pastel/punk

NOTE: this started out with the idea that Baz's dad didn't accept him being gender fluid but has somehow morphed into something a bit more. There's MalMage, a brewing storm, genderfluid vampire Baz, potentially gender confused Simon, biker gangs, magic, fantasy world building, 50s inspired towns, and political intrigue. What a mess. I don't know where I'm going with this, but it's possible that I'll morph this into a full blown thing.

The roar of the motorcycles was a familiar buzz in Simon’s ears, something that usually lulled him into a state of zen. However, this time there was a change in the feel of the roar, and he could catch a different scent on the wind. There was a town up ahead.

It took conscious effort to keep his folded wings from stretching out behind him at the thought of being able to make a stop and maybe even spending a couple of days somewhere. The Mage’s Men had been on the road for a while, slowly making their way to a kingdom out further past the High Mountains.

There had been a few odd jobs here and there to keep them fed and content until they got this big one, and he was hoping that maybe the nearing Watford would have a little something to do. It had been a while since he’d tasted a nice hot scone or something sweeter than a pack of discount sandwich cookies.

Davy threw back a few hand signs and Simon grinned widely. A much needed stop was just what they needed. The rest of the ride into down was a blur, and soon the whole pack was taking a quick tour to gauge the place.

Watford was a lot like most of the little towns hovering outside of capital cities. Coven’s magic signature was over everything, a bond of protection should anything befall the small town. Davy was not a huge fan of Coven, and Simon glanced nervously at the man.

Davy Mage was the leader of their gang, a man with great vision, testicular fortitude, and a willingness to do whatever it took to reach his goals. He’d earned the title of Mage after years of battle with another family, and Simon was quite lucky to have gained the title of Heir.

Whether Davy was his actual biological father or not was up for debate, but Simon tried not to worry himself about things like that. Davy was the closest thing he had to a father, and knowing the truth of the matter wouldn’t change anything. Any curiosity or whisper of discontent was tucked deep down with all the other things he didn’t want to think about.

Right now, the only thing he wanted to think about was finding a nice inn that offered hot breakfast. Freshly cooked food and a soft place to sleep sounded blissful, and he definitely needed a shower. Offing another round of goblins after his head had left him in dire need of getting cleaned up. Even his leathers had gotten messy in that battle.

Thankfully, the Mage didn’t change his mind and direct them out of town. They rode through the town square, taking in the views of shops and concerned looking citizens. It was normal to have people frightened of them until their intentions were made known.

There were a lot of wandering gangs that were carrying out missions from the larger kingdoms, and most towns never knew if they were on a hit list or not. If these guys were under the protection of Coven, they might be less than friendly for the duration of their stay, but Simon didn’t care. It’s not like he planned on settling here or anything.

Just a bit of food and rest was all he needed to be ready to move on.

The whole gang pulled up to a modest looking inn, and then the engines were shut off. Groaning in relief, Simon swung his leg back over and off his bike before allowing his blood-red wings and tail to stretch out. Premal jumped back in annoyance so that he didn’t get knocked off his feet, but Simon couldn’t be bothered to care.

Everyone knew that they needed to keep their distance.

“Simon,” the Mage barked as he pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through his hair, “get up there and scope things out.”

“Yes, sir!”

Flying was one of the only things better than riding down the open road, Simon thought as he felt the wind whipping around his body. The large wings at his back beat loudly, working to bring him up high enough to skim his hands along the underside of a few stray clouds.

Whooping loudly, Simon dipped and rolled through the wind as he examined the area around Watford. There didn’t seem to be any signs of danger and the Kingdom of Coven's capitol was far away enough that they would probably keep their nose out of the Mage’s business unless a fight broke out.

He was surprised to see a rather large school for such a small town, but shrugged it off and made his way back down to the Mage.

“Looks clear,” he panted upon landing.

The Mage nodded and thoughtfully stroked his neat thin mustache. “Good, good. No signs of the Coven moving?”

“Nope.” Those green eyes narrowed in annoyance and Simon quickly corrected himself. “Uh, no, sir.”

“Perfect.”

All of the Men waited outside while Davy and Simon went in to negotiate a stay. Things almost always tended to work better in Davy’s favor when he had Simon hanging around.

Blue eyes took in the modest décor of the place and noted that there was a lot of school memorabilia. These people were awfully proud of their school. The goat on the coat of arms was kind of silly, he thought. Once the negotiations were through, Simon was put in a room with two other Men and they all unpacked their few belongings.

Simon enjoyed a hot shower and washed off the reminders of the past few weeks. He still had a healing wound from a sword to his side a couple of weeks ago, but there was already a scaly patch over it helping it heal.

The scales would fall off after it was completely repaired, another strange bit of the magic that always seemed to be around him.

Once he was washed clean and in fresh clothes, Simon got the Mage to magically hide his wings away so that he could better explore the shops. There had been too many mishaps with his wings and broken goods and the Mage didn’t want to pay for anymore so he would begrudgingly oblige.

With all that finished, Simon strode out on the town in his cleanest pair of jeans and a white t-shirt with his leather jacket over it. Premal had cleaned his leather’s already, a kind gesture considering that Simon had been too scared to try again after catching his first pair of leathers on fire with his attempt to clean them.

Everything about Watford felt clean and quaint. There were perfect rows of homes, perfectly manicured and maintained gardens and yards, and rows of tidy shops he could explore. There weren’t really any children to be seen, and Simon realized that they were all probably still in school.

That thought made him a little sad. He’d never been to school. For the first half of his life he had actually been feral, a wild beast of a thing whose only thought was keeping itself alive. Then the Mage found him and took him in, teaching him the ways of people.

The magic that ran hotly through his blood belonged to the world of people, but the wings and tail were something else entirely. He’d heard the whispers of “dragon” often enough to wonder if that was his origin, but it had been too long since people had even seen dragons much less conversed with them. No one knew anything of dragon children.

Walking through the bookstore, Simon allowed his fingers to drag over the spines of the books, enjoying the different textures and designs. The shop keeper’s eyes were firmly planted on him, but the man said nothing. None of the adults did.

Maybe it was his tail, visibly swaying behind him. It hadn’t ever been as much of a nuisance as his wings, but it was still odd enough to put most people off. It made it hard to even get a date these days, but he still didn’t like hiding away these parts of him, especially for something as fleeting as a one-night stand.

“When does the school let out?” Simon asked with what he hoped was a casual tone.

The man blinked at him in surprise. “Three o’clock for the young’uns,” he replied with a gruff voice. “And 4:40pm for the graduates. Same as all the other schools.”

“Ah.” The man was looking at him even more curiously and Simon found himself leaving the store rather quickly afterwards.

A café called Pritchard’s caught his attention, and soon Simon was happily tucked in a corner scarfing down a pile of steaming hot scones. He’d never had sour cherry ones before, but was beginning to think that he had a new favorite now.

The bell over the door rang, and Simon peeked over the high-backed booth to see a small group of students come in chattering.

“Uncle Pritchard, is it true?” a beautiful person asked. She was taller than everyone else and had quite a striking figure.

Pitch black hair was neatly wrapped in a bun at the nape of her neck. She had a lovely silk blouse with wildflowers on it tucked into a sensible black pencil skirt and very shiny shoes. Simon always liked shiny shoes.

He also quickly noticed her pointed ears and the fangs peeking out over her lovely lower lip. A vampire? In this little place? The fact that no one was staking her meant that she was probably a pet or something, so he settled himself down and observed as quietly as possible.

“Kids, you shouldn’t be out-” the man tried before he was interrupted.

“They let us out early,” another young lady stated with the authority of a warlord. “Are there really mercenaries in town?”

He rather liked this one’s wild hair. It was tied back with a thinning ribbon and Simon wondered if the poor thing would give out and set loose the mane of curls.

“Now, now-”

“A gang in town!” Someone else squealed excitedly. “I can’t believe it! Nothing this exciting has ever happened before!”

“Our town had a showdown of Mages barely fifteen years ago,” the first girl snapped in annoyance.

“Yeah, but we were like babies,” someone else added.

“Kids,” the café owner tried again, his eyes nervously shifting towards Simon.

“Do you think they’re here to challenge Mr. Grimm?” the second girl asked with a grave tone. “He won’t go down without a fight.”

The first girl looked almost ill at the thought and the man quickly reached out and took her elbow. “Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. No one’s challenging anyone. They’re just passing through.”

Simon stuffed the last scone into his mouth and continued to enjoy watching the others hovering around the cash register. There was something quite refreshing about seeing other people his age who were so clueless to things like how gangs operated. Sure, there were a few roving bands of bonety hunters who would ride into places and raze them without provocation, but those were usually taken out by gangs like the Mage’s Men.

It was bad for business all around to have groups destroying villages and cities, so kingdoms wouldn’t put up with behavior like that. Even as a roaming gang with no kingdom loyalty, the Mage’s Men knew better than to get the ire of an entire kingdom pointed in their direction.

“Uncle, are they-”

“Really now, kids,” the man interrupted exasperatedly. “Do you want to order something or not?”

They all looked taken aback by his response and Simon grinned. The man obviously didn’t want them saying anything to offend him while he was sitting right there. It meant that he was scared too. Simon wasn’t easily offended, and really couldn’t care less about what some small-town gruffs thought about him or his family.

Deciding to take pity on the man and give them all a chance to gossip in peace, Simon stood up, his boots hitting the tile loudly. Everyone at the front of the building jumped in shock and Simon kept his most confident smile in place as he stared at them all.

“The food was good, mate,” he addressed the older gentleman and tossed a few bills on the table.

His eyes moved towards the group of young adults and found that tall girl. Her legs were even more stunning now that he could get a good look. With a brazen wink in her direction he strode right up to the front door and decided to head back to the rest of his group.

He hadn’t got more than a few meters from the café before the bell was ringing and there were marching footsteps behind me.

“Pardon me, you brute,” a voice demanded, “but you owe me an apology!”

Turning back in amusement, Simon glanced up into those indignant silver eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” she snapped back.

“What for? Don’t like a compliment?”

A blush burned on her grey cheeks, but she stood her ground.

“Th-that wasn’t a compliment!” she protested. “That was rude! I am not a piece of meat to be gawked at!”

Blue eyes roamed over her more carefully this time and noted the more distinguished larynx and the deeper pitch of voice. “It’s not gawking, doll. Just admiring.”

The sputtering person seemed completely thrown off, caught somewhere between being even more offended and slightly flattered.

“It’s rude to stare!” the vampire shot back, seemingly not understanding why Simon wasn’t apologizing or backing down.

“People stare at me all the time,” Simon replied honestly. “I don’t waste my energy on caring whether they’re being rude or not.”

Those grey eyes looked completely baffled for a moment before the motion of Simon’s tail caught their attention. Eyebrows shot up and that lovely mouth gaped for a moment, allowing a better view of those darling fangs. It was nice to get to admire such things when they weren’t gnashing at you.

“Oh, you’re a...”

Simon shrugged. “They don’t have a name for my type, doll. Are you someone’s pet?”

“P-pet?! Not at all! My father is the mayor of this town!”

“Ah.” Simon gestured towards his ears. “Don’t really see a lot of you out and integrated into the towns. Makes sense with your dad, though.” The vampire self-consciously touched at their ear and Simon stepped forward carefully. “I don’t mean it it in a bad way, doll.”

“I’m...” The vampire coughed to clear their voice and shook their head. “My name is Baz. Please call me that. And it’s they/them.”

Simon jutted out his hand in greeting. “Simon. Good to meet you.”

“He/him?” Baz asked carefully as they took his hand.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Davy had called him a boy from the moment he captured Simon, and the young man had never given it a second thought.

“A pleasure, Simon,” Baz greeted politely.

Warmth filled his body and Simon enjoyed the feel of that hand in his. Baz had oddly rough hands for someone as posh as they were, but they also had a smokey smell to them that made Simon feel comfortable and almost...safe.

Not one to ever let an opportunity pass by, Simon stepped even closer and put on his most charming grin. “Say, Baz, wanna go out on a date with me tomorrow?” The vampire seemed to choke on their breath, but Simon pushed forward. “I’d like to get to know you.”

He wasn’t certain if this place had certain courting rules, but he was sure that the Mage could get him out of any jam he walked into. The man knew how much he liked holding hands and getting close to other people. He’d tried something serious with a previous Mage’s Man but it hadn’t gone over well and the guy his head smashed in by a Numpty as Davy’s warning to the others to keep their hands off of Simon.

Simon was an Heir and weapon first and foremost, and having people fuck with his emotions was a no-go. So, Simon was limited to random dates and one-night stands any chance he could get.

“Uh, I...” Baz swallowed thickly and nodded. “Okay.”

“Can you come out for lunch?”

Baz nodded and Simon felt a happy warmth fill his body. “Alright. Here at noon, yeah?”

“Okay,” Baz responded shyly. There was a definitely blush burning on their cheeks.

Simon squeezed Baz’s hands and then quickly made his way back to the rest of the gang.

*****

The café owner glanced nervously between the two young people as he set the strawberry milkshake between them, but Simon ignored him and focused completely on Baz. The Mage had struggled to hide the wings away that morning because Simon’s magic was buzzing excitedly, but they were thankfully still tucked away.

While Simon was dressed the same as the previous day, he took the time to admire Baz’s outfit. They looked so polished and put together with their tan slacks, shiny belt, green polo shirt, and a fuzzy sweater neatly hung over their shoulders and loosely tied around their collarbones.

“How long have you been a vampire?” Simon asked dreamily as he leaned forward and rested his chin in one hand. Baz really was quite pretty.

“Since I was five,” they replied softly, a hand automatically coming up to cover the fangs.

“Don’t cover them,” Simon stated softly. “I like seeing them.”

“Oh,” Baz replied with a slight squeak before they leaned forward and drank down a bit of the shake.

There were two straws in the glass and Simon felt his body throbbing with happy energy. Everything about this place was sweet and delightful!

“I think you’re pretty,” Simon added, falling back on his tried and true brashness. He enjoyed seeing the blush light up on those cheeks. “Beautiful really.”

“You’re quite outspoken,” Baz retorted, but the smile remained on his lips. “And a flatterer.”

“I like to speak the truth,” Simon replied honestly. “And if I like you, I don’t see the point in not saying so.”

“Don’t you like to get to know someone first?” Baz asked curiously.

“I’m getting to know you now,” came the laughing response. “What’s your favorite scone?”

And with that, the two of them carried on an easy conversation. The strawberry shake dwindled down between them, and when Simon slid his hand across the table to drag his finger against the back of Baz’s hand, the vampire didn’t pull back. Their fingers hooked together as they talked, and both left lunch with dreamy looks on their faces.

As Simon meandered back to the inn, Davy Mage stood in a hall quite familiar to him and stared at a large portrait. The woman painted in it stared down at him severely, and he couldn’t keep the curl of distaste off his lips.

“What are you doing here, David?” a tired voice asked.

Davy looked over to see Malcolm Grimm, his all-white hair a shock from the memories he had of the man.

“You look old,” he sneered angrily.

Malcolm didn’t rise to the bait. He just stood next to the younger man and stared at the portrait. “Grief ages you, David.” The men stood next to each other quietly, each reminiscing over times gone by. “What are you doing here?”

The truth was dangerous, so Davy danced around it. “Passing through to another job. A Mage’s work is never done.”

Most Mages through history had settled into a town and worked from there, but Malcolm didn’t want to point out the obvious.

“Are you happy?” he asked, a heaviness in his words that had been there for so many years.

“What do you care?” Davy snapped, the irritation bubbling up.

“I’ve always cared.”

“Fuck you!” Davy growled as he wheeled on the taller man and shoved him. “Fuck you!”

The hurt was heavy in the air and Malcolm stared at the white-knuckled fists clenching his lapels. He’d seen that same grip so many times already and it opened up the wounds of his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing that nothing would make it better.

“We’ll be leaving soon,” Davy replied after a few moments, a crack of emotion breaking through the words. “And I won’t ask again.”

“I know.”

Davy stepped back and released the creased material of the suit. He ran a hand through his neatly trimmed hair, a bronze brown that had once hung loose and carelessly over his forehead.

“I’ll be at the same place,” Davy added quietly, almost in defeat. “You’ll know where to find me.”

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maximit3 · 4 years ago

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Caregiver Pt. II (Aizawa x Reader)

Summary: You are a caregiver at Hosu General Hospital tasked with watching over their newest patient, Eri, while she is in the care of the Pro-Hero Eraserhead on the weekends. The line between your professional relationship begins to thin as you start to get to know each other.

Pairing: Aizawa X fem!reader Word Count: 2.4K Warnings: I think we’re good its fluff for now, maybe mention of bodily injury Author’s Note: I have been working on this second part for the past two weeks and I have rewritten it at least three different times. I think I am finally happy with how it turned out and the tempo of the piece. I told you all in the first part that this was going to be a slow burn, I wasn’t kidding. I want this to flow naturally and bring these two together authentically. Please enjoy!

[Previous] || [Next]

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The shade under the tree was a welcome change from the heat that had been bearing down on you and your companions during your walk. It seemed the last refuge in an almost full park despite the rising heat index, and you wondered if anyone else was struggling as you were.

Certainly your companions seemed to be managing just fine, and in fact seemed at ease as Eri sat playing with the grass. Mr. Aizawa sat against a tree, his eyes closed. You wondered if the Pro-Hero had actually fallen asleep, but on closer inspection you noticed that his eyelids were slitted almost imperceptibly and his eyes were trained solely on Eri.

You’d laugh if you weren’t currently focused on how uncomfortable and silly you felt standing in the middle of the park in your work attire. Shifting from one foot to the other, you thought of a strategy to sit without embarrassing yourself and the heat itself, regardless of the shade, was beginning to irritate you.

You felt a sudden tug at the hem of your skirt and looked down, a little surprised, to find Eri next to you.

“Are you okay Miss Y/N?” her small voice asked, worry coating her words.

You smiled gently, forgetting your plight. “Of course, Eri. I’m just not quite used to the heat of the city yet, but I am fine,” you reassured her, patting her hand gently.

A cool and low voice swam through the hot air, “You should sit down if it’s bothering you that much.” Mr. Aizawa’s eyes were opened further now and you blushed at his gaze.

You shifted again uncomfortably, still wondering how to properly sit and mentally cursed yourself once more for your work attire that caused such frustrations. Finally, you decided to simply kneel and allow yourself to sit on the back of your heels - not the most comfortable position to be sure, but better than standing.

Eri sat with you, picking at some of the small clovers that grew next to where you sat. She smiled as she picked a bright white one and handed it to you. “This one is the prettiest one so you should have it, Miss Y/N.”

It was very pretty, for what it was, but you took it all the same and smiled, “Why thank you Eri, it is very pretty. I think this one should be for you.” You had picked another clover, a smaller one than the one Eri handed to you. You placed it in her hair next to her small horn and it caused the little girl to giggle in delight and you couldn’t help the small hiccup your heart gave. Looking over Eri’s shoulder, you saw Mr. Aizawa had closed his eyes again and something cued you that perhaps, for the moment, he truly was relaxed.

Suddenly, something hard hit the back of your head and a stinging sensation began to radiate from the point of impact. You winced and instinctively grabbed at the area, checking to see if there had been any damage.

Eri was patting your leg and you could faintly hear her calling you name, but your head was fuzzy. The tears that came to your eyes were just as much from the embarrassment of the situation as they were from the pain.

A new sensation was added to the mixture as you felt a pair of warm hands touch your cheeks gently and a voice, gravely and calm, spoke.

“Miss Y/N, Look at me.”

You were still having trouble processing everything, but your head began to incline with the help of the warm hands that had now cupped the underside of your chin. Your vision began to clear and before you was the scruffy, tired face of Mr. Aizawa, his eyes searching your own with great concern.

Behind you, you could hear a small group of footsteps and Mr. Aizawa’s eyes shifted to the left and his hands dropped from your face. The sensation of his hands lingered on you, but the warmth was already draining as was your daze. Any attempt at standing would be met with failure and more embarrassment, so you stayed put as the footsteps got closer.

“Oh no,” you heard a small voice say, high pitched and tinted with worry, “We’re really really sorry, are you okay?”

Slowly, you turned your head to try and locate the owner of the voice, landing on a group of small children to your left. They all seemed very sheepish and embarrassed, one of the girls was fidgeting with her shirt and another was picking at her nails looking down at the ground. They couldn’t have been any older than Eri.

Although there was still a throbbing on the back of your head, you smiled softly at the group. “I’m fine, but you girls should be more careful with that,” you said, gesturing over to the ball now resting next to Eri.

The girls nodded still looking ashamed. One of them spoke up, her voice shaking, “I’m sorry - I was using my quirk, but I didn’t think the ball would go that far.”

“Hmm,” you said thoughtfully, still looking each of them in the eye, “Well I would say that means it was an accident, and as long as you all realize that using your quirks like that can be dangerous, then I think your apology is all I needed.” There was a beat before the girls let out a rush of breath and started to smile.

Your attention turned back to Eri, and the ball that now rested beside her. She didn’t look scared anymore, but there was definitely some confusion. Mr. Aizawa, on the other hand, you noticed, was sitting back against the tree where he had been sitting previously, his eyes closed.

“Why don’t you go ahead and give them their ball back, Eri.” The smooth voice of Mr. Aizawa called.

Eri nodded, grabbed the ball that was about the size of her head and shuffled over to the girls shyly. The girls perked up as Eri approached them, and they all started whispering to each other excitedly as the leader took the ball from the white-haired girl.

“Do you want to come play with us?” the other girl asked as the others chattered in agreement.

Eri looked surprised and turned back to you, and then to Mr. Aizawa sitting under the tree, and once more back to the girls. You could tell she was nervous and unsure of what she should do, and you realized she had probably never had an interaction like this one before.

“Um…” Eri said, still uncertain.

“You should go play,” Mr. Aizawa stated, and Eri turned to look at him trying to find confirmation on his face that it really was okay to go play. He simply nodded with a smile, and Eri smiled back and then turned back to the group of girls and they all cheered as she followed them back to the grassy knoll where they had been playing previously.

You relaxed your body once more and touched the back of your head again, and wondered how tender it was going to be tomorrow. It really hadn’t been that big of an impact, if anything it scared you more than it hurt, but there was no ignoring that at least for tonight you would have a knot back there.

“You really okay?” you heard Mr. Aizawa ask.

You shifted your eyes over to him and gave a reassuring smile, “Yeah, I’m fine, it'll hurt for a bit, but no permanent damage. Thank you for your concern Mr. Aizawa.”

There was a grunt of acknowledgment and then silence as the two of you settled into the rhythm of the park. The group of girls Eri was playing with seemed to be having a good time, and more importantly, you noticed Eri was actively participating and having fun. You wondered if things would ever be truly normal for her or if there would be just these tiny slices of childhood and that would be it.

“You don’t have to watch her so intently, I have my eyes on her,” Mr. Aizawa’s voice broke the silence again.

“Yes, I can see that with your closed eyes,” you teased, “I’m her caregiver though, I think I’m allowed to keep a trained eye.”

“A very attentive caregiver,” he mumbled, and you could hear him shifting behind you trying to readjust into a more comfortable position you assumed.

“It is my job, Mr. Aizawa. Although I’m still trying to figure out what part you play in all of this.” You finally turned your gaze back to the solem scruffy man under the tree.

He had a weird look on his face as if he was studying you, determining what answer could be given. His eyes were open now, albeit drooped, but you had a feeling that was a very practiced nonchalant look and that truthfully, he was on high alert.

“I-” he hesitated, and you noticed for a fraction of a second his eyes shift to something behind you.

You bit back a smile - of course he was watching her.

“I just think kids should be kids while they still can. Eri has been through a lot, too much for someone her age, and truthfully it seems unfair to spend the next part of her childhood locked up in a hospital.” He blew a loose strand of hair out his face and it was almost cute how mundane it looked.

“So you took Eri in,” you said.

Aizawa nodded, “It was the rational choice.”

You smiled, watching Eri, and could see out of the corner of your eye Aizawa doing the same. You chuckled a little, “I think it was a little more than that.”

Aizawa's face was blank, but the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly, and you got the feeling you were being studied. You gave a small smile, still attempting to maintain some of your professionalism, and then secretively whispered, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

“What about you, Miss Y/n?” he asked, trying to deter the conversation away from himself.

“What about me?”

“Spending your weekends taking care of a patient, your family must be very understanding,” he stated.

You looked up at the sky, your lips pressed together. “It’s just me,” you said quietly after a moment. Then you shook your head and looked back down. “Well, me and my cat, Milo, and I think he would be very grumpy to hear I had almost forgotten about him.”

Mr. Aizawa’s eyes were trained on you intensely, studying you. You squirmed a bit under that gaze, trying not to blush.

“Besides, I just moved here, so being with the two of you on the weekends is really helping me to get to know the area. All of my friends work at the hospital, so it's hard to make the separation between work and home life. In reality, these weekends have kind of given me a break, and working with Eri has been a delight.” You shrugged, still feeling uncomfortable under his gaze which hadn’t relented. “Honestly it's almost felt like a mini vacation - wait, that's sad. Wow, that's a little pathetic, sorry.”

You were anxiously chuckling, trying to lighten the mood. Honestly, you really shouldn’t have said any of that, you don’t know why you said any of that, but Mr. Aizawa’s intense gaze made it hard to not blurt everything out.

Your face reddened and you tried to let the silence settle between you, but you were fidgety now and embarrassed. At some point, you felt Mr. Aizawa’s eyes leave you and you tried not to think of how unprofessional you must have sounded. Neither of you talked for a long while and you focused your gaze back to the group of girls to just check on Eri.

“You know, my students call me mister,” his gruff voice stated nonchalantly.

The sudden shift caught you off guard and you knitted your eyebrows together. “What?”

Mr. Aizawa grunted, “My students, at UA. They call me Mr. Aizawa. Logically speaking, as my equal, you can just call me Aizawa.”

You were stunned, not even sure where that line of thinking came from, although his reasoning made sense you supposed. At that moment, Eri ran back to the two of you, her cheeks red and her breath coming out in short puffs, but her smile was blinding. She giggled and waved at the girls, now surrounded by who you could only assume were their parents.

You tilted your head and smiled at Eri, forgetting your frantic thoughts. “Did you have fun?” you asked.

Eri nodded emphatically. “Mhm mhm, but their mommy said they had to go.” The last part was said with a bit of a frown in her small voice.

You knelt down so that you were at level with her. “Well I’m sure they had a lot of fun playing with you! Perhaps another day you’ll be able to play with them. Now let me see your wrist, I want to make sure your blood pressure is still stable.” You held out your hand and Eri slipped hers into your grasp.

It felt hot, but the beat was steady and it seemed as if Eri’s body had not been overexerted.

“Good girl.” You patted her head affectionately.

You heard Mr. Aizawa - well you guessed it was just Aizawa now - shift and stand up and moved to follow suit.

“Come on kid, I think it’s time for us to go too. It’s almost time for Miss Y/N to leave and we don’t want to keep her all night.” He winked and motioned for the two of you to follow.

At home that night, you found yourself laying in bed, your cat curled next to you, and your thoughts wondering. The professional line had definitely thinned today between you and the Pro-Hero, but what did that mean? He had said you were equals, but it had felt more than that, more personal, and there was something about it that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.You sighed in frustration. You were absolutely overthinking this, and you were tired.

Still though, as your mind drifted into unconsciousness, you couldn’t help looking forward to tomorrow and you found yourself excited to see Aizawa again. The feeling of his warm hands on your face followed you into sleep, the flutter in your chest growing as you entered your dreams.

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Its time to start Part 3 Now! Hopefully this coming holiday week will give me more time to focus on it. I don’t know how many parts this is going to be, but I’m excited to keep writing it, if you have any feedback please message me I would love to hear from you!

Thank you to my lovely soulmate @mindninjax for putting up with my writing bullshit and @veryrealunicorn and @bullrunpicnicker for working their comma magiks and editing skills.

Also the rest of the palace for putting up with my wailing about writing this fucking story. @dokidokibunni @vic-toryoftheaces

See you guys soon! Plus Ultra!

#aizawa x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #bnha #bnha fanfiction #mha #aizawa #shouta aizawa #Caregiver #Max writes

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biaswreckingfics · 5 years ago

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No Limits: Part 2

Author: biaswreckingfics

Genre: Mafia AU - Warnings? Everything that goes on in a Mafia AU

Word Count: 3.5k

Previous Chapter

Chanyeol stared at him as he spoke with a dull expression, and once Junmyeon finished speaking he says what they all secretly fear, “If the Baem has him, then he’s already dead.”

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You knew it! You knew Sehun didn't die in that explosion. Brief relief swept through you at the thought of Sehun still being alive and it took all of your willpower to not bounce in your seat with happiness, but it was quickly crushed by Chanyeol's "he's already dead" attitude.

If the Baem had Sehun, then they had to act quickly before something really bad does happen. Giving up and thinking he was already dead wasn't going to help anyone, especially Sehun.

"While we're on the subject of the Baem..." Junmyeon trails off while looking at you. You knew where he was going with this by the way his eyes slightly narrowed.

Don't you fucking dare, Junmyeon, you angrily think, trying to shove the thought from your head to his.

"Now that we assume Sehun is still alive and most likely being held captive by the Baem, I don't want you to be involved in this anymore, Y/N. It's way more dangerous than we originally anticipated."

"Bullshit," You immediately counter, stealing yourself for the same argument the two of you always seem to have. "It was always dangerous. Nothing has changed. We wanted to destroy the Baem before and now we'll destroy them and get Sehun."

Junmyeon purses his lips before leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. "We don't have time for an argument. I don't want you involved. In fact, I don't even want you sitting at this table right now."

"I don't give a fuck what you want, Junmyeon. You're not the only one with a say. If the other EXO members don't want me involved, then fine, but all you're trying to do is play the big brother role that you're already a decade too late for," You snap at him.

Chanyeol snorts at your response before looking at Junmyeon and standing up from his lean against the wall. "And you tell me I need to get my shit together. How about following your own advice, leader."

As Chanyeol walks out of the room, the sad look on Junmyeon's face immediately makes you want to take back what you said, but you were so sick and tired of having this fight every couple of days that you couldn't do it.

"I'm sorry, Jun, but I'm not going to change my mind... I deserve the chance to avenge mom and dad and also get revenge for myself... and I'm not going to have this argument with you anymore."

Your brother held your stare as he thought out everything silently. He looked around the room at his men and took in their expressions before sighing.

"What do 'the other members of EXO' think?" He asks with a slight edge to his voice.

You inwardly cringe as you realize just how much your words had hurt your brother. That wasn't what you wanted. He was one of the last people you wanted to hurt, but his lack of faith in you hurt you also, so you would continue to stand your ground.

"When Jisoo and Minhyuk died, the Elders took away my right to avenge their deaths, and I still hate them for that to this day..." Baekhyun slowly starts as he stares at the table in front of him. The faded pain still clear in his voice until he shakes it off and looks up at your brother. "You were there with me, Junmyeon. You saw what that did to me. Do you want to do that to your sister?"

Your brother was clearly affected by Baekhyun's words as he thought back to that time. It showed in the way he tilted his head up toward the ceiling, closed his eyes, and clenched his jaw.

"She's already come really far in her training. If she keeps it up, I don't see any reason she shouldn't be involved," Jongin adds his opinion.

Junmyeon nods a little before looking back down at the members and sliding his chair back. "I'll take your opinions into consideration. Meeting dismissed."

You silently watch as he abruptly stands up from his chair and walks out of the room, not sending a single glance your way. When the rest of the members quietly get up and leave without a passing word to each other, you feel a small piece of your heart break.

When you first came here, the group was lively and rambunctious. There was laughter and noise all throughout the day and night, and the near silence that was now a constant in the compound was deafening.

You feel a sudden poke in your arm and look over at Baekhyun, who had apparently stayed behind with you. He searches your eyes trying to figure out what you're feeling.

"What's up?" He finally asks before placing his elbow on the arm of the chair and resting his chin on his hand, waiting to hear your thoughts.

Sighing, you angle your body towards him and lean your head against the back of the seat, feeling completely comfortable with sharing your innermost thoughts with him. "I'm tired of everyone walking around on eggshells. How are they supposed to be a group when they can hardly even communicate?"

"When are you going to learn to not take on everyone else's problems?" He asks you softly.

"Probably never..."

He lets out a small laugh that causes your heart to flutter, and you stiffen. It didn't escape your notice that he was starting to affect you more and more, but you couldn't bring yourself to think about that right now. There was too much going on at the moment.

"How about, for now, you focus on kicking Jongin's ass in training? We'll worry about the rest later."

Sehun's POV

He had fallen into the soldier role well, and as it turns out, he was a quick learner.

The Baem had been giving him small tasks and testing out his abilities in all areas. They discovered he was apparently good with weapons and explosives. Like really good. Like Sehun almost scared himself good.

When the Baem discovered his talent, they kept him strictly with their weapons unit, and the more Sehun played around with things, the more small pieces of his memory came back.

He remembered how to handle wiring and how to build certain explosives, he remembered how to properly care for every gun he came across, and he was remembering other things as well... like his dislike for all the easy girls who were always around and throwing themselves at him. He remembered that he preferred classier girls who respected themselves, and for some reason when he thought of an example, you were the one that flashed into his mind.

All that did was cause him more confusion. Why were you the one that he thought of? Because he had recently seen you? It was just another thing to add to his growing list of questions, and with the memories he gained, that list was getting quite long.

Something else he thought was odd was the fact that he didn't recognize any of his members. As the other things started coming back, he thought memories about his members would come back too, but they weren't. These men still felt completely foreign to him.

On top of that, they consistently kept asking him questions about EXO, and it was really starting to fucking irritate him. How many times did he have to say he couldn't remember? He understood they were their rivals, but they never even asked him questions about the Baem, just EXO.

It almost seemed like they were testing him, but why?

Y/N's POV

It had been a few days since the meeting, and it seemed like the tension in the house had gotten even worse. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop, like whatever was holding the last of you together was going to break any day now.

It was almost like everyone was backtracking instead of trying to move on and heal, and things with your brother had not been good at all. Neither of you had attempted any communication since your last argument. Junmyeon would often lock himself in his office and would hardly come out, and you tried to hang out in your room a lot because you were just tired. Tired of all of it.

A quick knock sounded on your door before Jongin peeked in. "Time for training, let's go."

You sigh at the thought of another day of having your ass handed to you, but jump up from your bed and follow him down the hall because you knew this would be the perfect opportunity to ask him about one of the many things that had been on your mind lately.

"Okay, fine, but I want to talk on the way."

Now it was Jongin's turn to sigh because he knew exactly what you wanted to talk about. Minseok.

"I don't regret killing Minseok's father." He immediately says, causing you to slow down your steps and look over at him while he continued. "I'm glad I was the one to do it."

"I wasn't going to ask that..." You slowly say, now completely stopped in the middle of the hallway. "I just wanted to know if the two of you will be okay..."

Jongin awkwardly comes to a stop beside you. "...Oh..."

"What's on your mind, Jongin?"

He turns to face you and searches your eyes almost with a slight panic. "I think there's something wrong with me..."

Your heart jumps a little at his words and how his entire demeanor crumbled before you. The way he broke eye contact and swallowed while looking down the hallway immediately put you on edge.

You knew Jongin was holding in a lot of emotions. He didn't often like to be perceived as "weak" no matter how many times you told him emotions didn't make him weak. Instead, he liked to drown his sadness and pain in girls and alcohol, but you wanted to try to find a way to help him past that, and right now, Jongin was giving you an unusual glimpse into his vulnerability.

"Why do you say that?"

"...Because I felt happiness when I killed him. Relief... You're not supposed to feel happy when you end someone's life, and it's not the first time. I felt the same way about my stepdad."

Everything Jongin was saying made sense. In a normal world, killing people was a horrific, atrocious thing, but in the mafia world... nobody was really a "good guy". They all did horrible things, and no, you weren't trying to justify murder. You knew things weren't so black and white, but those two were bad men.

"Jongin, they were shit people who did horrible things, it's not wrong to feel relief that they're gone." You tell him, but the look of doubt is clear on his face. "I don't think anything is wrong with you... I'd be happy if I were in your position too."

He raises his eyebrows at your statement before saying, "Maybe there's something wrong with you too."

His words cause you to pause in thought until you finally shrug, "Well, then we'll be fucked up together."

He shakes his head at you, but a small smile does find its way onto his face, and that was literally all you cared about at the moment.

As the two of you start to walk down to the training room again, he asks, "Was that all you wanted to talk about?"

"Are you avoiding Minseok because of what you just told me?"

He avoids looking at you and continues quietly walking down the hallway for a moment before answering. "Partly... I thought it'd be good to give him space. I took away his last living parent... How can you forgive someone for that?"

You couldn't respond to his question, because you didn't know the answer yourself. Would you be able to forgive Jongin if you were in Minseok's position? It was hard to put yourself in those shoes because you knew, one way or another, Minseok's father was never going to leave that room. Whether it be by Jongin's hand, your brother's, or your own.

All you knew was that it was something the two of them would have to work out themselves, and you were worried about what would happen if they let this go on for too long. "You need to talk to him before it's too late..."

He thinks about your words for the rest of the walk but remains silent until the two of you walk into the training room, where your eyes immediately find Baekhyun waiting there. You would be lying if you said a thrill didn't go through your entire body at the sight of him.

"Are you joining us today?" Jongin asks with clear amusement.

You're silent as you watch Baekhyun walk up to the two of you with a swagger you've only ever seen him pull off. You shake your head at the thought, immediately annoyed with yourself for thinking someone's walk was sexy.

"Oh, I'll be here every day until she kicks your ass," Baekhyun replies with a smirk that you force yourself to ignore.

His words and belief in you, however, gave you the motivation you needed to train, and for the next hour, the three of you warm-up and take turns sparring with each other. You could feel yourself getting stronger, compared to how you were before the training started, and the thought made you giddy with adrenaline. You were becoming a badass person, and damn, it was exciting.

"Kai hyung," A voice calls from the entrance of the training room, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's an issue at the club."

Jongin drops his fighting stance and sighs as he looks over at the younger man who you have never seen before. "Which one?"

"The one we just acquired, sir."

Jongin swore before following the younger man out of the training room. You turn to Baekhyun in confusion.

"Who was that, and what club is he talking about?"

"Someone in Jongin's unit," He answers while slowly circling you, "They just bought a ...gentleman's club."

You turn your body with him as he watches your movements, looking for a place to attack, but your mind was already elsewhere.

"You guys own strip clubs too?"

"We dabble in a little bit of everything. Casinos, dealerships, strip clubs... Why do you sound so surprised?"

Why were you surprised? Jongin was one of the most sexual beings you knew. It made perfect sense for him to run the strip clubs.

Suddenly, you feel a jab in your left arm as Baekhyun takes a hit at you and circles around behind you. You quickly turn and catch the smirk still on his face.

He raises an eyebrow at the taken aback look on your face and asks, "You thought you were done training because your teacher left?"

Your throat suddenly dries up at the sight of him. The raised eyebrow, the smirk, his sweaty naked torso, his eyes as they looked over your body, searching for a hint of your next move. It was a sensation overload. Pair that with the previous conversation of strip clubs, and your mind almost went blank.

Focus. You needed to focus. Forget about the stupidly attractive, oddly caring guy in front of you and put your opponent on his fucking ass.

You studied his movements for a moment, the way his body leaned, and the direction his feet were facing before making your move.

You tried to make all of your movements seamless and fast, but Baekhyun was still able to track them and quickly blocked the punch you threw at him. Your next thought was to aim a high kick toward his side, but he caught your leg mid-air and held it still.

You hopped around as you tried to balance on one foot and met his stare. You were shocked to find heat in his gaze, and suddenly, the position you were in seemed way too intimate for sparring.

"Can I have my leg back?" You breathlessly ask.

Baekhyun slowly looks down at your leg, like he didn't even realize he still held it, before quickly dropping it, shaking his arms out, and rolling his neck around.

The two of you backed away and sized each other up. You had yet to take Baekhyun down, and suddenly, you were very determined to do it tonight. The tension in your body would only be settled when one of you was on your back.

He takes a step toward you, and you step back in response, maintaining the same distance between you, and when he brings his arm back to strike, you dodge. Unfortunately, you were too late to realize it was a trick, and his leg was able to snake out and swipe you off your feet.

The panic came, just like it always did when you fell, and you grab his arm in a death grip on your way down. His body, not expecting the extra weight of another person, gave out, and he landed directly on top of you.

You both let out a small noise as your bodies smack into each other and then lay there for a second as you both try to figure out what just happened. Finally, the situation registers in your mind. Byun Baekhyun, a member of the deadly EXO and the guy you were stupidly attracted to, was laying on top of you.

Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you knew he could feel it because you could feel his beating erratically too. Both of you were already breathing heavily from the sparring, but the way his body molded around yours almost stole all your breath entirely. You could feel the strength of his body against the softness of yours, and it sent your mind into a wild frenzy.

As he leans his weight onto one of his arms so he wouldn't crush you, you search his eyes and let out a small gasp when you see the hunger in them. The noise draws his eyes down to your lips, and his tongue slips out to wet his own.

His gaze bounces between yours and your lips, searching for something, an answer or permission maybe, before he slowly lowers his head and claims your lips with his own. It was gentle and light at first, and the softness of his lips causes your remaining breath to disappear, but when you open your mouth and let him in, the kiss quickly turns more passionate.

His kiss sent an explosion of bright, colorful lights through your head, and it was enough to make you dizzy. His tongue slid into your mouth and quickly began teasing yours, and you couldn't get enough of it. You tilt your head to the side, and he quickly deepens the kiss as his free hand slowly slides down the side of your body.

Everything felt right all of a sudden. Kissing Baekhyun made you feel like everything would be okay in the end. It made you feel like your head was going to explode, but you welcomed it because if this was how you were going out, you had absolutely zero complaints.

After a while, he slowly pulls away, but not before leaving one more soft kiss on your tingling lips. You gradually open your eyes, and the two of you stare at each other in amazement. You were never the romantic or fairy tale type of girl, and you never believed that people were made for each other, but with Baekhyun, you wanted to be.

A noise across the room breaks the spell the two of you had fallen under and the mumbled words of an apology have both of your eyes widening.

The two of you look over at the source of the noise and see a flustered young man still apologizing and looking everywhere but at the two of you. You had no idea who he was, but you assumed he was another member in one of the guys' units.

The thought was confirmed when Baekhyun quickly scrambles off of you. You search his face to get an idea of how he's feeling, and a small flash of hurt and confusion goes through you when you see the spooked out look on it.

Was he worried about the younger man telling someone? Your brother, maybe? Was it something else entirely? Did he... did he regret kissing you?

Before you could get any of these questions out, Baekhyun excuses himself and quickly takes off toward the exit, leaving you laying there all alone.

Tagging: @knjkitten @kpopserene @multifandombxxch @tashaxvamp @kpop---scenarios @bhyunni @chanyeolismybaby @flaming-laboob @taetaeeyong @lilbitoflyssa @misstressporkchoppp @hoseok-wang @spiltkpop @isha454 @depuis2mille @marovekian1 @ladylynae @abby8451 @lynniev @insta1010 @sawadabegum @avxngxrrogxrs @equesasprokishi @imstuckinafictionaluniverse @layisanangel @mongryong-the-corgi @overthelamebowz @lizbether01 @thatanonymousgirl-as14 @nothingbutadeadesceane @kim-ji-hyeons-world @suhappysuho @futuremrspcy

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iffeelscouldkill · 4 years ago

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Adjusting [Part 4: Arkady]

A/N: Hey! In honour of us getting a confirmed release date for TSCOSI Season 2, here’s a fic update! (No I was not planning to post this anyway tonight, what are you talking about)

This one’s another long chapter, so strap in, folks! As always, a big THANK YOU to @dragonsthough101 for beta reading and for all the encouragement and enthusiasm! <3

CW: This fic contains a fairly brief description of a panic attack, from the POV of the character experiencing the panic attack. If you want to skip it, stop reading at the line “Everything is very still.” and skip to “They gravitate over to the kitchen table...”

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The sound of gunfire echoes around purple-tinged sand and silver rocks, the alien landscape of a desert planet that sinks, spongy under RJ’s feet as they run for their life, head down to present less of a target. There’s a fiery pain in their right leg, running from the thigh right down to the shin, and though RJ clenches their jaw and forces themself onwards, it buckles, sending them crashing to one knee in the sand.

“RJ!” Sana shouts. She’s about thirty paces ahead, supporting a blood-soaked and half-conscious Arkady.

“I’m fine – go, get to the ship,” RJ calls, but Sana doesn’t budge. Cursing under their breath – and feeling a sudden kinship with Arkady every time she’d complained about Sana prioritising the crew’s safety above her own – RJ forces their leg to lock and pushes off from the soft sand, wobbling into a standing position. There’s another hail of bullets, closer this time, and RJ almost trips forward in their haste to move- and then stops.

Wait a minute.

“RJ!” Sana calls again, this time with a note of panic in her voice. She looks like she’s debating sprinting back across the distance between them to find out what’s wrong, but doesn’t want to abandon Arkady.

RJ waves a hand at her, motioning her down. Arkady has roused enough to give Sana a confused look, but both of them sink down towards the sand.

In the echoey canyon that they just emerged from, it had sounded like the gunshots were coming from all sides. RJ had been baffled as to how so many shooters were still pursuing them, as they thought they’d managed to take out virtually all of them, but there hadn’t been time to figure it out. Now, out in the open, RJ can tell: there’s only one shooter.

“Kid,” Arkady hisses, her voice carrying just far enough to reach RJ in the quiet. “Get out of the goddamn open.”

RJ ignores her, scanning their surroundings. They’ve narrowed down a rough area that the shots are coming from: an outcrop of metallic rocks on a ledge about twenty metres up. The spot is almost completely shielded, but it’s also difficult to shoot from. The shooter can’t get a clear shot at them, which is why they were laying down so much fire: trying to confuse them, make them panic, and run into the path of a stray bullet.

It also means that RJ can’t get a clear shot either, unless…

RJ flails as if losing their footing on the sand, turns and crumples dramatically backwards. They hear Arkady swear, and Sana say, “Wait here- I’m going back-”

From this vantage point they can see through a gap low in the rocks, and sure enough, there’s a dark shape beyond, sunlight glinting off the dull metal of an old-fashioned automatic rifle.

“Got you,” RJ mutters, and fires.

A muffled cry of pain can be heard across the distance, and RJ jumps to their feet in a shower of sand, adrenaline and triumph numbing the searing pain in their leg. They catch up to Arkady and Sana, who are frozen in the middle of getting to their feet.

“We can go now,” they say. A delighted smile spreads across Sana’s face, while Arkady looks torn between annoyance and grudging respect.

“Glad you made up your mind,” she snarks.

They make it back to the Iris without incident, where Violet is there to work the airlock as usual. She pales at the sight of them.

“Arkady- Sana- RJ! What happened? We couldn’t get you on your comms-”

“Yeah, sand’s a bitch,” pants Arkady, who seems to have rallied some more at the sight of her girlfriend. She pulls the useless, sand-encrusted comm link from her ear and tosses it with a flick of her hand at Violet, who just catches it. “That weird purple storm you saw? It jammed all of our devices.”

“You’re covered in blood-”

“I’m fine,” Arkady insists, though the fact that she can barely stand upright is undermining her argument quite a bit. “I’ve been worse.”

“Sana Tripathi to all crew,” Sana is saying over them. “Krejjh, we’re gonna need a quick getaway. RJ took out the last of our pursuers, but we think some of them might have gone for backup. We can’t afford to hang around.”

“Aye aye, Captain Tripathi.”

“Brian, Park, keep an eye out for anything on our tail.”

“Roger that.”

“Will do.”

Sana turns to RJ, Arkady and Violet, who are still clustered around the airlock. “Arkady, you’re going to accompany Violet to the medbay for urgent attention, and no arguments.”

“For once, I wasn’t gonna,” says Arkady with a wince, her voice strained. Violet moves forward to take Arkady’s weight, and Arkady leans on her gratefully. The height difference makes it a little awkward, but Violet is also clearly stronger than she looks.

“Captain, I’m going to take a look at that shoulder as soon as Arkady’s been patched up,” Violet says in that gentle-but-firm way that no-one ever tries to argue with (except Arkady, but even she doesn’t try particularly hard).

Sana nods, hand going to the dried patch of blood on her shoulder. The bullet had only grazed her, but it hadn’t been pretty at all, and they’d had to improvise a bandage in a panic out of a scarf that Arkady had been using to keep the sand out of her face.

Violet turns a sharp gaze on RJ, who straightens reflexively, letting go of the safety rail they’d been leaning on. This proves to be a mistake as they put too much weight on their injured leg, and they can’t conceal the resulting flinch.

“What happened to your leg, RJ?” Violet asks. It’s mild, but there’s no-nonsense steel lurking under her tone.

“I’m uh, not really sure?” RJ admits. Their pant leg is caked in violet sand, ragged and torn; there’s no visible blood, but it could easily be concealed under the sand. “It’s uh, it’s kind of painful, but I don’t think I got shot. There were bullets ricocheting off the rocks, though, and some shrapnel might have hit-” They’re rolling up the leg of their pants as they speak, and then stop as the wound comes into view. ‘Some’ shrapnel is an understatement: RJ’s leg is peppered with tiny pieces of glittering metal, including one fairly large and pointy-looking piece sticking out of their lower thigh. Dried blood is streaked along the length of their leg. Sana sucks in a breath.

RJ laughs a little, nervously. “Um. Ow?”

Violet passes a hand over her face. “Okay. I’m gonna get those out of you as soon as possible, RJ. In the meantime, try to keep your weight off your leg – actually, that goes for after I’ve dressed the wounds, too. Luckily, none of it seems to have gone in too deep.”

“Arkady, you might have some too,” Sana says. “She and RJ managed to draw most of their fire-”

“Arkady more than me,” RJ puts in, as if it wasn’t already obvious from Arkady’s multiple injuries. “I guess I didn’t seem like that significant of a target.”

“-but it was kind of hard to tell what was a bullet and what was debris, with sand whipping up all around us.”

“Yeah, if I never see another sandstorm, it’ll be too soon,” Arkady mutters.

“Wonderful,” Violet says dryly. “Is it too much to hope that the sand might not contain any toxic or harmful substances?”

There’s a pause, as Sana, RJ and Arkady look at each other. None of them had thought of that possibility.

Violet sighs. “I’ll prep some equipment and try and get a sample to analyse from Arkady’s comm link.” She holds up the inert device. “I haven’t tried it out yet, but the medbay in this ship has some equipment that should be able to do the job.”

“You could probably get a good sample from our clothes, too,” says Sana. Violet nods.

“Sana, RJ, I want you to – carefully – change into some clean, loose-fitting clothes and then come to the medbay. Try not to touch your wounds directly.”

Both Sana and RJ give their assent to her instructions. It’s a little weird for RJ to see Sana, as the Captain, taking an order from someone else, but Sana acts like there’s nothing unusual about it at all. They’ve known some commanding officers – okay, a lot of commanding officers – in the Regime who acted like they would lose all their authority if they were seen deferring to a subordinate for anything, which led to a lot of bad and stupid judgement calls. They know now that the mark of a good leader is someone who’s willing to listen to the people under their command.

Violet turns back to Arkady, her face softening.

“C’mon, soldier,” she says quietly. RJ isn’t sure if this is a pet name or just a reference to ‘brave soldier’, but either way, it makes Arkady go pink. Sana looks impossibly fond of the two of them.

Arkady looks back at RJ, and RJ braces for some kind of threat about breathing a word about that to anyone else, but instead Arkady says, “Good shot earlier.”

For the first time ever, she doesn’t call RJ ‘kid’.

“Uh… thanks,” RJ barely manages in their surprise, but Arkady doesn’t even seem to hear it, already letting Violet help her down the corridor to the medbay.

---

The whole crew is a little on edge for the rest of the day (or what passes for ‘day’ when you’re hurtling through the black void of space). The excursion on Enlil was meant to be a simple pick-up and drop-off job, which was why Sana had thought it might be a good first outing for RJ to accompany them on while also providing some extra backup. But someone had tipped off the planet’s local security force – a sort of combined police force and militia – to their presence, and minutes after completing the trade, they’d found themselves fleeing from a dozen armed pursuers.

They got the payment, and more importantly got away safely (ish), but it’s a stark reminder just how little they can afford to let their guard down.

Dinner is a lively and extra-loud affair, all of the accumulated tension of the day (of the past two months, really) welling up and spilling over. For once, RJ doesn’t mind. They boost themselves up, gingerly, onto one of the bolted-down metal chairs decorated with Sana’s colourful homemade cushions, being careful not to jolt their leg, which has been expertly cleaned and bandaged by Violet. (The sand, to the best of Violet’s assessment, did not contain any toxic elements, but was still not great to have in an open wound for obvious reasons).

RJ watches Jeeter haphazardly throwing ingredients into a huge stock pot while Park looks on with a slightly pained expression. As Brian gets distracted by a compliment from Krejjh, he quickly claims the spoon, adding some spices from a small tin and a few other flavourings from little bottles in precise, measured amounts, before replacing the spoon just as Brian turns back around.

The noise and the activity is… familiar. Reassuring. It helps to drown out the images of purple and silver in RJ’s head, of sand whipping against rocks and gunshots echoing through a vast canyon, so vast it seemed like they’d never emerge from it. Of thinking about those few crucial seconds, out in the open, and what might have happened if they hadn’t made the shot.

(RJ always makes the shot. Every single time, in the Academy and afterwards, they had always made the shot. RJ believed then that they couldn’t afford to miss – for the sake of their reputation and their career, for the respect of the senior officers that they’d worked so relentlessly to earn.

But since becoming part of a crew and having more than just their own wellbeing riding on their steady hands and the aim of their gun – RJ has learned the real meaning of can’t afford to miss).

Sana passes out bowls of the stew that Brian has concocted, unknowingly aided by Park. It’s pretty good – the vegetables and meat are bland (RJ can’t even identify them, which is probably for the better) but the spices give it flavour and the tiniest kick. Park slides into the seat across from RJ; the crew officially don’t have designated seats in the kitchen/dining area, but unofficially, they totally do, and Park’s chair is padded with two cushions: one on the seat, and one on the back.

RJ can’t say how it happened, but Park had always sat a little awkwardly on the unforgiving chairs, and there was a tentativeness to his movements whenever he shifted, like he was in pain and trying to hide it. Evidently they weren’t the only one who noticed, because a second cushion had mysteriously appeared on ‘Park’s’ chair one day, and that had been that.

“Dinner’s pretty good,” RJ tells Park, under the combined volume of Krejjh, Brian and Sana’s jokes and laughter. Arkady is there too, also propped up on multiple cushions, after she’d loudly and persistently refused to have dinner brought to her in the medbay. “I’m already sick of being stuck in there. I’m not helpless, Sana,” she’d snapped. Sana and Violet had exchanged a look over her head that spoke volumes.

She looks paler than usual, but she keeps up a determined level of snark and banter like she’s daring anyone to question her health.

“Tell that to the cook,” Park responds mildly to RJ’s compliment, picking up his spoon.

“I am,” RJ replies with a smirk. Park’s only response is the slightest raise of his eyebrow.

“I heard you got to do some sharpshooting, earlier,” he says instead, changing the subject. RJ brightens, realising that with everything that was going on after they got back to the ship, they’d never got a chance to tell Park what had happened on Enlil. Sana must have said something about it to him.

“Yeah, finally,” RJ says, and Park grins fleetingly. He knows RJ has been itching to help out with some of the (infrequent, always extremely cautious) drop-offs and supply runs, but Sana had been reluctant to take the risk.

“I know how capable you are, RJ,” she’d said gently the last time she turned them down, while RJ had done their best to hide their disappointment. “It’s not that I don’t trust your skills. But I don’t want to send anyone else out into the field unless it’s strictly necessary, and I’m sure that Arkady and I can handle this one. As soon as we get a drop-off where I think we’ll need more backup, I promise that I’ll bring you in.”

She’d sounded sincere, but RJ had been privately sure that the promise was just meant to pacify them. They’d been genuinely taken aback when less than a week later, Sana informed them that she wanted them to accompany her and Arkady on the next drop.

“We’ve never been to this planet before, and neither Arkady nor I are familiar with the terrain,” she’d explained at the crew meeting, handing RJ a topographical map of their destination while RJ quietly exploded with excitement. “By the looks of things, there’s a lot of open ground, but also some spots where we could be vulnerable to ambush. I think three pairs of eyes will be better than two.”

She’d been completely correct about that, although the planet’s intermittent sandstorms had not been in their intel. Either way, RJ doesn’t think that Sana and Arkady would have made it through in one piece without their help.

They should be pleased at that thought, to know that they were critical to the mission, but instead it makes them feel slightly sick.

Everyone lingers in the kitchen after the meal finishes, and soon enough Sana breaks out a bottle of engine room-brewed moonshine and cups are passed around. RJ prepares to decline, as usual, but to their surprise Violet passes them a cup of something else – it’s bright orange, slightly sparkly, and smells sweet.

“What’s this?” they ask.

Violet shows them the bottle, which is silver with an orange bolt of lightning down the side and shimmering writing in Chinese characters. “It’s an energy drink!” she says cheerfully. “I lived off it when I was in grad school. If you down it in one go it’ll give you a kick like you wouldn’t believe. We used to knock it back instead of shots sometimes – the buzz wears off quicker than alcohol, but you also get less of a hangover. I stashed some away in case we ever needed to pull an all-nighter or something.”

RJ looks doubtfully down at the drink and then glances at Park, who responds with a shrug and half a smile. His expression somehow conveys both, ‘It’s okay if you don’t want to,’ and ��What’s the worst that could happen?’

“I promise it’s completely safe,” Violet says, reassuringly. “Here, I’ll join you.” She pours herself out a small amount of the vibrant drink. “Cheers!”

She clinks her cup gently against RJ’s and then downs it in one go. After a moment’s hesitation, RJ follows suit. There’s a burst of intense, teeth-rattling sweetness and then a fizzing sensation like something went up RJ’s nose. They shake their head rapidly. “I… wow,” they say. Everything seems very bright all of a sudden. Violet is laughing as she puts down her cup.

“Oh my god!” she exclaims. “I feel like I’m 22 again.”

“How do you feel?” Park asks RJ, nursing his own cup of moonshine.

“I feel…” says RJ, and then gets distracted by how the ‘l’ sound rolls off their tongue. “Feellll… I feelllll… great! Really really good.” They beam at Park, who looks a little uncertain, but smiles anyway.

“That’s… good. Well, cheers.”

---

Twenty minutes later, RJ is laughing hysterically at a joke that Krejjh just made – in Dwarnian.

“It’s the- it’s just- it’s the way they said lequezzek…” they wheeze, trying to explain the joke to Park, who is staring at them in some consternation. They wipe one eye. “Ah, you kinda had to be there.”

“I… was there,” Park tells RJ.

“Hey, your pronunciation is really coming along,” Brian says approvingly to RJ, who brightens and sits up straight.

“You really think so?”

“Heck, yeah!” Krejjh chimes in. “Hey, say ‘Dwajjhah Ferin’.”

“Dwajjhah Ferin,” RJ repeats, trying hard to get the ‘jjh’ sound right. Brian and Krejjh look at each other, and Krejjh grins.

“Excellent Dwarnian ‘jjh’ sound. For a human.”

RJ throws their arms up in the air, almost clocking Park on the ear. “I’ll take it!”

Not long after that, Sana notices Arkady struggling to keep her eyes open and, over her half-hearted protests, firmly instructs Violet to accompany her back to her room. “I’m going to turn in too,” she says. “Not that I wouldn’t love to stay up with you guys, but it’s been a pretty long day and I think the adrenaline crash is finally starting to hit me.”

Her eyes linger on RJ, who stares back, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. “Don’t stay up too late, okay, guys? Get some rest,” she says.

“You got it, Captain,” says Brian as Krejjh salutes. “Hey, RJ – wanna come back to our room to watch the pre-season 17 finale of Sh’th Hremreh?”

“Yessss!” RJ cheers, jumping up.

“You’re welcome to join us, too,” Brian says to Park.

“I… thanks, but I think I’d be a bit lost,” Park declines politely. “McCabe-”

RJ, who is bouncing on the balls of their feet with impatience, looks over. “Hm?”

“Just be sure to drink plenty of water. I know Violet says that stuff gives you less of a hangover, but I think it’ll help.”

RJ rolls their eyes exaggeratedly. “Okay, Dad,” they groan, but they grab a bottle of water from the fridge before following Krejjh and Brian out. “Night, Park.”

“G’night.”

---

By the time the credits roll on Sh’th Hremreh, RJ has to admit that the effects of the energy drink Violet gave them have thoroughly worn off, and they’re feeling pretty beat. Krejjh has actually dozed off, and is snoring quietly against Brian’s shoulder.

“D’you wanna keep watching?” Brian asks quietly. “We should probably save the actual finale for when Krejjh is awake, but we can watch an episode of something else.”

RJ considers it, but reluctantly shakes their head. “Thanks, but… I think I do need to sleep,” they admit, stretching their arms up over their head.

“That’s fair. How’s your leg?”

“Uh…” RJ hasn’t really thought about their leg since dinner. The energy drink made every part of them feel fuzzy and light, so it hadn’t seemed like a concern. They hope they haven’t accidentally overdone things, although it’s not as if they’ve been running around the corridors. Well. They might have raced Krejjh to Brian and Krejjh’s room. It seemed like a fun idea at the time.

They stand up experimentally, testing how it holds their weight. It definitely throbs, but it’s a dull throbbing, and it doesn’t feel like it’s about to give way beneath them. “I probably should have stayed off it more like Violet said,” RJ admits. “But I think it’ll be better after some rest.”

Brian grins, an expression that RJ can just make out in the glow of the holo-screen. “Not really following medical advice is kind of a time-honoured tradition on this ship. It’s a miracle Violet hasn’t given up on all of us and left us to our own devices.”

RJ knows he’s joking, but the idea of Violet not being around to help in the aftermath of situations like the one they were in today is more than a little horrifying. “You guys didn’t even have a medic before she joined the crew, right? How did you manage?”

Brian shrugs in that easy way of his. “Arkady has a fair amount of field experience dealing with injuries, which I expect she picked up, uh… during the war,” he says. “Krejjh too, though obviously their knowledge is mostly applicable to Dwarnians. Sana and I know basic first aid, and Campbell – you met him when we made a stopover in Neuzo – has some skills and some contacts who don’t ask too many questions. We would sometimes go to him for help if we were in a bind, medically speaking.”

RJ nods slowly. It makes sense, although it also raises a number of other worrying questions. Namely, what if they’d been stuck out in the middle of the Deep or in hostile territory and weren’t able to get in contact with anyone? What if something really serious happened?

Brian correctly interprets their expression. “Mostly, it’s best not to think about it,” he says cheerfully. “Overall, we were pretty good at not needing any help, but it did happen occasionally.”

“Maybe I should learn some first aid too,” RJ says, thinking about possible worst-case scenarios on unknown planets and the fact that there’s only one of Violet. “Just in case.”

Brian smiles. “No reason not to. Violet could probably teach you stuff that the rest of us don’t know.”

After saying goodnight to Brian (and a still-sleeping Krejjh), RJ starts off in the direction of their room, but then reconsiders and heads towards the kitchen. Maybe it’s the lingering advice from Park to stay hydrated; maybe RJ just wants to sit and nurse a cup of tea and stare into space for a while.

They aren’t expecting, upon entering the kitchen, to find Arkady already there, reaching for the box of tea at the top of the cupboard and wincing as she pulls at her stitches.

“Uh…”

Arkady whips around so fast RJ is positive she must have pulled something else. She relaxes slightly when she sees RJ, obviously afraid it might be Violet or Sana. “Hey, McCabe. What are you doing up?”

RJ shrugs slightly as they step further into the kitchen, letting the door whoosh shut behind them. “Same as you, I think. I came to get some tea. Should you be… doing that?” Arkady has turned back to the cupboard and is slowly stretching up again to try and grab the tea. She huffs in exasperation.

“Don’t you start.”

“I’m just saying, we do have a stool,” RJ points out reasonably, going to fetch the foldaway stepping-stool.

“I don’t need a stool,” Arkady retorts. RJ thinks it’s meant to sound deadpan, but it comes out a little petulant.

“Well, I do,” says RJ, carrying it over and setting it down next to Arkady. “Move over.”

Arkady rolls her eyes, but moves aside to let RJ climb onto the stool and grab the box of tea, newly replenished thanks to a recent supply run.

“Why do you guys keep it on the top shelf, anyway?” asks RJ, setting the box on the kitchen table. “Is it because of…?” They nod at the scrawled NOT FOR YOU, JEETER on the lid of the box.

“Oh, that?” Arkady seems surprised, like she’d completely forgotten it was there. “It’s a joke, kinda – Jeeter doesn’t drink tea normally, but he has a habit of raiding our stash sometimes when he’s really sleep-deprived. And he always forgets that he’s allergic to rooibos, so. I wrote that as a reminder.” She flips open the top of the box and considers the contents.

“I… see,” RJ says, brow crinkling. They don’t really, but that tends to be the case with a lot of things involving their crewmates, so they decide not to spend too much time worrying about it.

Instead, they pick out a bag of peppermint tea and wait for Arkady to choose her flavour – lemongrass and ginger – before quickly plucking it out of her hand. “I’ll make these!”

“Kid–” Arkady grabs at RJ, who dances out of reach. “Listen, I can make my own goddamn tea–”

“Sure, but if I don’t make you sit down then both of us are going to get in trouble with Violet, and also I think you’ve already popped a stitch,” RJ shoots back. Arkady looks down and swears as she sees the tiny spot of blood that’s leaked through the bandages around her side onto her shirt, and grudgingly sits down at the kitchen table.

Smug, RJ rummages around for two clean mugs and drops the teabags into them. They pick up the kettle and carry it over to the small, pump-operated sink to fill it with water.

Intent on their task, RJ almost doesn’t notice it until the last second – out of the corner of their eye, a glint of light off silver rocks, off the barrel of a gun—

The kettle goes flying with a loud clatter as RJ whirls around. “ARKADY, GET D-”

Then they stop, heaving breaths in the middle of the kitchen, their leg throbbing. There’s nothing there.

Everything is very still.

But RJ saw it, they saw–

A glint of light, reflecting off the fridge, in the corner of their eye. Not an attacker. Not silver rocks and purple sand.

“-kid, can you hear me? RJ. RJ, can you hear me?” Arkady is suddenly right there, her face serious and intent, bending down to RJ’s level. “Kid, I need you to breathe with me. You’re having a panic attack. Breathe in–”

RJ is confused. They are breathing in. Aren’t they? Then they register the sharp, panicked breaths that they’re taking, their side beginning to ache from the strain. Oh. A panic attack. Right.

It feels like their lungs are already full to bursting, but RJ manages to drag in a breath.

“And out…” Arkady demonstrates, and RJ copies her. It’s helping to even their breathing out, but RJ’s muscles still feel like they’re locked in fight-or-flight mode, a non-existent threat pinging at the back of their brain.

“And again,” Arkady instructs, and she starts counting as RJ breathes in, and then out again. Her tone is matter-of-fact, with no attempt to sound soothing or sympathetic, and weirdly, it helps ground RJ. Plus, Arkady seems like she’s done this before. Maybe a few times before.

They gravitate over to the kitchen table, RJ breathing more normally but still keyed-up and tense. Their head is light from sucking in air, and their hands feel strangely tingly. They blink as Arkady pushes a hot mug towards them. At some point, she must have cleaned up the kettle and boiled some water for tea.

“Thanks,” they say, voice hoarse. They realise they should probably give some kind of an explanation about what the hell just happened. “Uh, that was…”

“Do you want me to get Violet?” Arkady asks, over them. RJ blinks.

“No, I- it’s not a medical condition, I swear. I mean, I don’t think it is. I just…” They think back to the glint of light, and then immediately try not to think about it. “I thought I saw something, and I panicked.”

“It was the refrigerator, right?” says Arkady. “Reflecting something.”

RJ looks at them, surprised. “Yeah, I- how did you know?”

Arkady shrugs. “I figured it might be something that reminded you of earlier. And since there’s no purple sand in here…” RJ laughs at that, very weakly. “I didn’t suggest Violet because she’s the ship’s medic,” Arkady goes on. “She knows a lot about this kind of stuff. She could…” Arkady gestures vaguely. “Talk to you about it.”

RJ really doesn’t have much desire to talk about what happened, although they know they probably should. “You seem like you know some stuff,” they point out. Belatedly, they remember the tea, and take a sip.

“Having a guh- uhhh, having a close… that is, knowing someone with anxiety will do that to you.” Arkady coughs as if trying to cover up her almost-slip of the tongue. RJ hides their smirk of amusement behind their mug.

“I don’t have anxiety. I don’t think, anyway,” they say slowly. “I’ve never had problems coping with combat situations before. They ran us through all sorts of simulations in the Academy. I learned to shoot in any conditions, under immense amounts of pressure.”

“Yeah, but how much actual field experience do you have?” Arkady asks sceptically. “Those were just simulations. It’s not the same as… actual war.”

She sips her own tea, a dark look on her face, and RJ is forcibly reminded that Arkady fought in the war – was probably a teenager when she did. There’s an awkward silence as they try to think of something to say. “No,” they say eventually. “I guess I don’t have any… experience with that.”

Arkady straightens up suddenly, squaring her shoulders. RJ remembers her popped stitch and hopes she isn’t putting any additional strain on it. “If this is the part where I’m supposed to delve into my dark past and tell you a story that inspires you, you’re shit outta luck,” she says flatly. “You want touchy-feely, you can go wake up Sana.” RJ laughs for real this time.

“I’m good. I promise,” they say. “Uh, but. Thanks for…” They falter, trying to be sincere but not wanting Arkady to make fun of them. “…Not freaking out,” they finish.

Arkady looks a little taken aback, like she wasn’t expecting to be thanked. “It’s no big deal. Really.”

At the mention of Sana, something occurs to RJ that makes their heart drop to the bottom of their stomach. They don’t want to voice it aloud to Arkady, though. Unfortunately for them, she reads it on their face anyway.

“You've got this scrunched-up look on your face,” she remarks. “Whatever it is that’s suddenly bothering you, spit it out.”

Her tone is impatient, but fortunately RJ has spent enough time with Arkady by now to know that she sounds like that most of the time, so they know not to take it personally. Well, too personally.

RJ worries at their lip, and then bursts out, “Please don’t tell Sana what just happened.”

Arkady’s face does something complicated; she looks halfway between baffled and annoyed. “You think I’m – what – going to rat you out to the Captain?” A slight laugh creeps into her voice.

RJ is too worked up to be reassured, though. “It took so long for her to agree to send me out on a drop-off, and I know that I had a bad reaction just now, but I can guarantee it won’t reoccur and I won't let it affect my performance on-”

“Oh my god,” Arkady interrupts, running a hand over her face. “Kid, listen to me. First of all, never try to keep things from Tripathi. It’s pointless, and she’ll only pry it out of you anyway and then be disappointed that you tried to hide it from her. Save yourself the bother.”

Arkady shakes her head slightly. “Second of all, the Captain isn’t going to bench you because you had a bad reaction to something that reminded you of a combat situation. If she did, I’d never-”

She catches herself, but RJ is able to mentally complete the sentence. I’d never be allowed to go on a drop-off or supply run.

“Look,” Arkady says. “You can’t “guarantee” that something like that isn’t gonna happen to you again, maybe in the middle of a job. When it happens, you deal with it, and you get on with the job. If you can’t do that, then maybe you should stay behind on the ship. But if you can deal with it just like you would anything else unexpected that happens, then I don’t see the problem.”

She gives RJ a flat look, as if daring them to find a hole in her logic. RJ has to admit it makes sense. It’s going to take a lot longer than they realised to shake the mentality that was drilled into them at the Academy, and under the Regime: optimal performance, optimal efficiency. The idea that anything less – any mistake – is unacceptable. That being human is unacceptable.

They realise they haven’t said anything yet. Arkady doesn’t seem to be waiting for a response, and has gone back to drinking her tea. Maybe she can tell that RJ’s taking in what she said, but they still want to give some kind of acknowledgement.

“Yes,” they say, into the silence. Arkady raises an eyebrow at them. “I can do that.”

“Good,” Arkady replies.

“Uh, thank you,” RJ adds, because they feel like they should say it, even though Arkady definitely won’t want them to. They drink some more of their now lukewarm tea.

“Ugh, don’t thank me,” Arkady says, predictably. “And speaking of not telling the Captain things: we’re not telling her that I just gave you a goddamn pep talk.”

RJ smirks. They can’t resist pointing out: “Didn't you just say it was pointless to keep things from the Captain?”

“I did. I also forgot to tell you about the exception to that rule,” says Arkady breezily.

“Which is?” RJ asks, already knowing the answer.

“Me.”

RJ snorts a little. It’s a relief to be back on the familiar ground of trading snark back and forth and not thinking about panic attacks or worrying about what will happen the next time they need to pick up a gun. They wonder if they’d be able to sleep now if they went back to their room. Maybe, after a couple of audiobooks. They’re still only midway through the collection that Park gave them, and Park has been talking about persuading Arkady to connect to the local network on their next stop-off so that he can download even more.

RJ realises that they never got the chance to ask how Arkady came to be awake and making tea in the kitchen so late at night. It’s probable that she’d say it was none of their business – and isn’t, really, except for the fact that they’re crew, and they were on a drop-off together earlier where RJ watched Arkady get shot, more than once, in part because she was trying to draw fire – and attention – away from RJ and Sana.

Arkady’s finished her tea, but she hasn’t made a move to get up and either refill the mug with more water or make her excuses and go back to bed. Instead she’s staring into it, brow furrowed, like she’s thinking about something unsettling. There’s shadows under her eyes.

“Are you-” RJ begins, and then second-guesses themself. Except that now Arkady is blinking at them, confused, which means that RJ needs to come up with something to say instead, damn it. “Uh, I mean. Could you… not sleep?”

Arkady looks momentarily annoyed by the question, and RJ prepares to walk it back, but then her face clears and she just looks tired. “The pain makes it… difficult,” she admits, grudgingly. “And before you say anything about painkillers, the kind that Liu gave me have some weird side-effects if you keep taking them for too long, so I don’t wanna risk it.”

“And she can’t give you something else?” RJ asks, because well, it’s the obvious question.

“We’re running low,” Arkady says, shortly. “Meds have always been the hardest to get our hands on, even when we’re just moving them, never mind for our own usage. There’s even more of a shortage now. Black market prices have gone up – we think the Regime is requisitioning more, either because they’re expecting to need them, or just to keep them out of the hands of ‘insurgents’. And back-alley doctors, abortion clinics and anyone else they’ve decided doesn’t deserve to have them.”

RJ feels the now-familiar wave of anger at being confronted, yet again, with evidence of the Regime’s callousness and pointless cruelty towards the people it’s meant to be protecting. Normally when this happens they keep quiet, uncomfortable with voicing outrage towards something that, until recently, they were completely complicit in. But this time, they can’t keep it from slipping out. “Fuck that.”

Arkady just nods, though RJ thinks there’s something approving in it. “Point being, I’d rather go without for a few hours and be sure that we still have enough in reserve for an actual emergency.”

RJ looks at the spot of blood on Arkady’s side, dried now but still there, and wonders what would class as an ‘actual emergency’ in her book if not this. No doubt if it were Sana who had been hurt (well, hurt worse than she was), Arkady would be making a very different argument. But RJ isn’t Sana, which means there is no way they would get away with pointing that out.

“Are you planning to stay up all night drinking tea in the kitchen?” they ask instead.

Arkady’s mouth lifts a tiny bit at the corner. “I was planning to kill a bit of time doing that, then head down to the engine room and do some stretches. Gentle ones.”

“The… engine room?” RJ is completely nonplussed. They know Arkady and Violet go there fairly often, but they figured it was for a specific reason, not like… recreational engine room time. “Don’t you brew moonshine in there?”

“Not all the time,” Arkady says. “A batch lasts us a while, so we only brew some every few weeks. You want to steer clear of the engine room while that’s going on, but otherwise it’s fume-free, and pretty roomy. Have you even been down there yet?”

RJ has not.

Which is how they somehow find themself in the middle of the engine room with Arkady at something like three in the morning, moving slowly through a series of Tai Chi stretches.

RJ can safely say they never predicted that their night would end up like this. But as they finally fall into bed half an hour later, gradually dozing off with an audiobook playing in the background, they feel pretty okay with how it turned out.

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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years ago

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Anonymous asked: I love your blog it’s definitely one of the most smartest and cultured ones around. Since you are a super chilled out military vet (flying combat helicopters, how cool is that?!) and also a very thoughtful and devout Christian (I think you talked about being an Anglican) I know this is a cheeky question but I’ll ask it anyway. Would you rather live in a military dictatorship or a theocratic dictatorship?

Now this is an interesting question you play at 2am and the wine is dangerously low.

I have to correct you on a couple of things. Yes, it was ‘cool’ to fly combat helicopters especially in a battlefield setting but it was just a job, like any other. And it’s never about the pilot it’s about the rest of the team behind you, especially your ground crew who make sure you go up and come back in one piece. As for being super chilled you clearly have never seen how sweaty one gets flying in high stress situations. Oh and the stink! A skunk wouldn’t last 5 minutes in my cockpit.

As for my Christian beliefs, I’ll settle for being a believing one. My faith, such as it is, is about living - and failing - by grace day by day than being fervently devout. Faith is a struggle to not rely upon one’s own strength but on divine mercy and grace.

Anyway....

Would I rather live in a military dictatorship or a theocratic dictatorship?

History has shown there's not a lot of difference between the two...

No, wait. On second thoughts maybe I would rather live in a military dictatorship as the lesser evil.

As an ex-officer in her HM armed forces, I know things will be run pretty efficiently with no dilly-dallying. So there’s that.

I suppose even if one does say it’s preferable to live under military rule rather than a theocratic one there is still the question of what kind of military rule? Every nation that has been under military rule came to power and sustained their hold under different dynamics. And of course it also depends on how mature civil society and the rule of law as well as the democratic culture really was in the first place. A lot is tied up with the brutal nature of the personality of the regime leader too. There are simply too many variables.

So one is forced to generalise. So l can’t get too serious in answering this question.

Rather than focus on the negative side let’s look on the bright side.

Just off the top of my head I can think of these reasons why I would choose to ‘live’ under military rule than a theocratic one. There are in no real order:

Beds will be made properly subject to inspection.

Families will be run like military units with the man at the head of the table.

Family meals will be taken at set times.

Public civility will make a return (e.g. no public spitting, drunken, or loutish behaviour).

Freedom of speech will more likely be censored than abolished (better than nothing I suppose)

Elections would be rigged rather than banned (but who really votes anyway these days?) 

They will most likely make the trains run on time (unless you’re British or Italian).

Military leaders often enjoy genuine popularity - albeit after eliminating plausible rivals - that is based on “performance legitimacy,” a perceived competence at securing prosperity and defending the nation against external or internal threats. The new autocrats of today are more surgical: they aim only to convince citizens of their competence to govern.

Maintaining power, for military dictators and their court, is less a matter of terrorising and persecuting victims than of manipulating beliefs about the world. But of course they can do both if backed into a corner to survive.

State propaganda aims not to re-engineer human souls but to boost the military regime leader’s ratings.

The military tend to stay out of personal lives. They have a political police but not necessarily a moral police.

Economic growth is more likely to be stable than under a theocratic state.

Military dictatorships are more likely to build vast bureaucracies to run the state - more jobs for everyone

The military put on great events. Their parades are more colourful and spectacular.

Having a sense of humour is more likely to get you imprisoned than executed for telling an anti-regime joke. It’s no joke to say that people develop a more refinery subversive sense of humour when oppressed. Take for example a famous comedian in Myanmar, Zarganar, for whom comedy is a shield and a weapon. During the time of the military dictatorship (1962-2010) he would make jokes like, “The American says, 'We have a one-legged guy who climbed Mount Everest.' The Brit says, 'We recently had a guy with no arms who swam the Atlantic Ocean. But the Burmese guy says, 'That's nothing! We had a leader who ruled for 18 years without a brain!" It was for jokes like this that Zarganar received a prison sentence in 2008 - for up to 59 years.

Military dictatorships don’t last long. They are more unstable. They tend to fall from the weight of their own contradictions.

One of the problems of living in a theocracy is how absolutist it would be in looking at life in terms of clear cut black and white according to those who rule over you. I strongly suspect in a theocratic state the morality secret police will be all over you looking for any social or moral infraction. In a Christian Theocracy, you'll never be Christian enough - the same would be for states that were Islamic, Judaic or Hindu etc. There's always going to be some pious asshole there with another version of Christianity that is more Christian than you and you're going to lose the freedom to make your own choices.

Under theocracies, unlike other authoritarian regimes, the rulers are the moral authorities that legitimises and fuels their political legitimacy to govern. It assumes its own moral correctness married to its political destiny to rule over others. As C.S Lewis memorably puts it, “Theocracy is the worst of all governments. If we must have a tyrant, a robber baron is far better than an inquisitor. The baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity at some point be sated; and since he dimly knows he is doing wrong he may possibly repent. But the inquisitor who mistakes his own cruelty and lust of power and fear for the voice of Heaven will torment us infinitely because he torments us with the approval of his own conscience and his better impulses appear to him as temptations.”

Finally, I’ll go with the military dictatorship with the hope that there might be some way of bringing the system down with a bit of logic and rationality. Hell knows that wouldn't be possible in a theocratic system!

I agree with Margaret Atwood when she said, “If you disagree with your government, that's political. If you disagree with your government that is approaching theocracy, then you're evil.” There’s more wriggle room with fighting against a military dictatorship because it’s usually against an asshole tyrant - or a ruling oligarchy of a military junta - and not a pernicious idea soaked in theological bullshit or an entire ideology divinely santificated by God himself.

A more interesting question is not to ask is why many people are so readily drawn to be ruled under a military rule or a theocratic one and especially a benevolent dictatorship (like Lee Kwan Yew in Singapore or Paul Kagame in Rwanda) but why increasingly more people in the Western world look to authoritarian figures to rule and shape their lives?

Why do Silicon Valley titans like Peter Thiel and others like him think fondly of ditching democracy in the name of some utopian hyper-capitalist vision of ‘freedom’?

I hear murmurs of the same talk when I interact with corporate colleagues and high net worth individuals I hear it around dinner tables about how democracy is bad for business and profit. Often it’s accompanied by praise for China's ability to "get things done." I just roll my eyes and smile politely.

I think - outside of the legitimate concern of the decay of civil discourse, the corruption of politicians, and corrosiveness of crony capitalism - it’s because democratic politics is hard. Damn hard.

Moreover democratic politics does not have a "right" answer. There never is.

In our Western societies it is the playing field (or market place?) where our values compete. Surely, you say, there is a right way to get the job done: to fill in the potholes, build the roads, keep our streets safe, get our kids to learn reading and math. Ah, but look how quickly those issues get contentious.

Whose potholes should get filled first? Do we try to keep our streets safe through community policing or long prison sentences? Should teachers be given merit pay, are small classrooms better, or should we lengthen the school day? These issues engender deep political fights, all - even in the few debates where research provides clear, technocratic answers. That is because the area of politics is an area for values disputes, not technical solutions.

One person's "right" is not another's because people prioritise different values: equity versus excellence, efficiency versus voice and participation, security versus social justice, short-term versus long-term gains.

Democratic politics allows many ideas of "right" to flourish. It is less efficient than dictatorship. It also makes fewer tremendous mistakes.

The longing for a leader who knows what is in her people's best interests, who rules with care and guides the nation on a wise path, was Plato's idea of a philosopher-king. It's a tempting picture, but it's asking the wrong question.

In political history, philosophers moved from a preference for such benevolent dictators to the ugly realities of democracy when they switched the question from "who could best rule?" to "what system prevents the worst rule?"

But clearly democracy is buckling under pressure in our torrid times. Populism - the logical end consequence of a purer democracy - is chipping away at the edifice of democratic norms and conventions. Increasingly inward looking nativism and nationalism fuel passions beyond the control of reason.

Perhaps it is time we went back to the tried and tested example of a monarchy, a constitutional one that is.

A revitalised monarchy in Britain needs a Head of State that can provide a personal identity to an impersonal State, and a collective sense of itself. A Head of State who does not owe his or her position to either patronage or a vote can more properly represent all the people. Consider that a President who has been elected, often by a minority of a minority of the electorate, cannot adequately speak for the people who did not vote for him or her. It is even worse if the President has been appointed, because then he owes his position to a small clique.So, the accident of birth is the best means of appointing a Head of State. Someone who has no party political axe to grind, or special favours to repay to a vested interest. Someone whose allegiance is to the people. Not just allegiance to the people who voted for him or his political party, but allegiance to all the people of the country equally. Far from being "incompatible" with democracy, a Monarchy can thereby enhance the government of the land.

The Monarch is a national icon. An icon which cannot be replaced adequately by any other politician or personality. This is because the British Monarchy embodies British history and identity in all its aspects, both good and bad.

When you see the Queen you not only see history since 1952, when she took the throne, but you see a person who provides a living sense of historical continuity with the past. Someone who embodies in her person a history which extends back through time, back through the Victorian era, back into the Stuart era and beyond. You see the national history of all parts of our islands, together, going right back in time.

As Edmund Burke, Roger Scruton and Michael Oakeshott would say, the monarchy is a living continuity between the past, the present and the future.

With its traditions, its history, its ceremonial, and with its standing and respect throughout the world, the British Monarchy represents a unique national treasure, without which the United Kingdom would be sorely impoverished.

If you value national distinctiveness, you should be a Monarchist.

If you are anti-globalist you should be a Monarchist because Monarchies represent the different national traditions and distinctions among the nations.

The desire to secure, strengthen and promote your own distinct national icons, whether your Monarch, or your own unique national identity, should be your concern, whether you live here in St Andrews, or whether you live in St Petersburg, or whether you live in St Paulo.

As the global financial system rushes us all towards a world intended to eradicate all local and national distinctions, the Monarchy stands out as different, distinct and valuable. Constitutionally, practically, spiritually and symbolically the Monarchy is a national treasure, the continued erosion of which would change the character of Britain, and not in a good way!

I’m speaking as a High Tory now, sorry. And so of course I only see it working for the United Kingdom....and the Commonwealth (slip that discreetly in there for you India, Australia, Canada, and Africa).

Still, if you want egalitarianism then look at Norway and the Netherlands - both highly "egalitarian" societies, and both monarchies.

Everyone else will just have to jolly well do without or ask us politely to come back (I’m looking at you my dear American colonial cousins, all will be forgiven).

The best of all worlds? Time will tell.

At your service, Ma’am....

Thanks for your question.

#question #ask #military dictatorship #government #rule #democracy #culture #society #theocracy #army #christianity #religion #nd high net worth individuals

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