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voskhozhdeniye · 2 years

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I hadn’t read that Bill Zeller suicide note since I posted it on here two years ago. Rereading it last night reminded me why I felt it belonged on here in the first place. While some of the things he mentions in it are somewhat different from my life, I could almost write that verbatim. I’m alright for the moment if you’re wondering, and I’m not what this post is about in the end.

When he talks about how friendships and relationships did nothing to bring him relief, he confirms something I’ve pretty much known for a while now, but have been trying to hide from myself. I wrote, but never posted a post the other day that said something along the lines of, “the more I attempt to interact with people, the more social energy I have to exert. I’m exerting all of this energy, and getting nothing in return.”

I could go on with this, but I have something specific to talk about, which is connected to that last thought. Because of the nature of the site the note is posted on, there’s a comment section underneath the note. I don’t know if I ventured into it last time, but I did last night.

Watching people try to argue with a dead man about what he should have done different was both amusing and deeply unsettling. He spends the entire note talking about being sexually abused for years as a child, and how that experience has infiltrated every aspect of his life. How his parent’s warped religion, and the betrayal of his trust by them and others destroyed his desire to continue living.

One person retorts with the if only he had the right religion in his life excuse. Another wonders why he refused to go to the police, or reveal who abused him. There are others that chimed in with their thoughts, but all of them do exactly what he talks about over and over throughout the note. Instead of listening to what he has to say and acknowledging the insurmountable damage that’s been done to him, they run to prove him wrong. Even after he’s dead and gone, they still refuse to even attempt to understand. “If only he had approached it from this angle, or another.” I was reading something else yesterday that made me think, a lot of people seem to think life is like modular patch cables. If something goes wrong just unpatch and restart. I don’t know what’s going on in their lives, but I wish it was that easy.

A year or two ago I saw a post on here that said you can’t therapy yourself out of a sexist, racist, homophobic, transphobic, ableist, classist and xenophobic society. I’m thinking about this post I made. I’m also thinking about that Palestinian therapist who said Palestinians do not suffer from PTSD, because in order to suffer from that you have to be removed for the situation that caused the trauma. She said Palestinians continue to be traumatized everyday, so they aren’t suffering from PTSD. They are still actively being traumatized, so they can’t even move onto the PTSD phase of whatever recovery is possible.

I read that note, and I saw someone articulating feelings that I never get to see talked about in an open and honest way. He said it took him a year to complete his suicide note. A year to write about how childhood abuse had dismantled any ability to pick the pieces of his life up and attempt to piece together something. And instead of sitting down, reading what he wrote, and actually reflecting on what he said and his decision. People are trying to talk a dead man off a ledge.

This reminds me of why the it gets better campaign pissed me off so much when that was happening. You had all of these people telling kids that life gets better. When there is no guarantee that’s a realistic outcome. People are more worried about preventing suicide by spreading good vibes, than actually sitting down trying to understand what leads a person to come to that conclusion. I think that’s a larger problem in our society. People on here love to tell people to go to therapy for their problems, but completely ignore that sometimes being a friend, financial stability, health insurance, a mobility aid, access to HRT and other things are suicide prevention tactics.

My father went to the funeral of the father of my abuser last year. He saw the abuser there, and asked if I remembered him. His father was a high ranking member of the church. Around that time I learned the son of another high ranking member molested my sister. My sister is seventeen years older than me, so this was years ago. Unlike me, she told my parents. They didn’t believe her, until years later when he got a girl pregnant. I never really had a chance.

That Hereditary post from last night sums it up. Pawns in this horrible, hopeless machine, which is probably bleeding to death.

This part of Bill’s note really struck me,

I used to think if I solved some problem or achieved some goal, maybe he would leave. It was comforting to identify tangible issues as the source of my problems instead of something that I’ll never be able to change. I thought that if I got into to a good college, or a good grad school, or lost weight, or went to the gym nearly every day for a year, or created programs that millions of people used, or spent a summer or California or New York or published papers that I was proud of, then maybe I would feel some peace and not be constantly haunted and unhappy. But nothing I did made a dent in how depressed I was on a daily basis and nothing was in any way fulfilling. I’m not sure why I ever thought that would change anything.

I didn’t realize how deep a hold he had on me and my life until my first relationship. I stupidly assumed that no matter how the darkness affected me personally, my romantic relationships would somehow be separated and protected. Growing up I viewed my future relationships as a possible escape from this thing that haunts me every day, but I began to realize how entangled it was with every aspect of my life and how it is never going to release me. Instead of being an escape, relationships and romantic contact with other people only intensified everything about him that I couldn’t stand. I will never be able to have a relationship in which he is not the focus, affecting every aspect of my romantic interactions.

Relationships always started out fine and I’d be able to ignore him for a few weeks. But as we got closer emotionally the darkness would return and every night it’d be me, her and the darkness in a black and gruesome threesome. He would surround me and penetrate me and the more we did the more intense it became. It made me hate being touched, because as long as we were separated I could view her like an outsider viewing something good and kind and untainted. Once we touched, the darkness would envelope her too and take her over and the evil inside me would surround her. I always felt like I was infecting anyone I was with.

I don’t think Bill was evil but when you’re abused, and the coping tactics you use to survive in this world make you seem corrosive to people. While your abuser is popular with folks. It’s kinda easy to see where that mode of thinking would come from.

#The kids like to tag their vent posts as negative so #Negative

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kshery-j · 7 months

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Factors to Consider When Choosing FPV Antenna

When it comes to FPV (First Person View) systems for your drone, one often underestimated but critical component is the antenna. FPV systems rely on antennas for wireless communication between the radio transmitter and receiver, as well as the video transmitter and receiver. In this article, I'll guide you through the key considerations when choosing the right FPV antenna for your drone.

What is an FPV Antenna?

An FPV antenna is an essential component for all radio equipment, enabling wireless communication. It's worth noting that your smartphone also contains various antennas for wireless connectivity. In the context of FPV, an antenna is responsible for converting electrical video signals into radio signals for transmission and receiving aerial radio signals, converting them back into electrical visual signals. FPV antennas are crucial for both the video transmitter (VTX) and video receiver (VRX) on your drone. Without suitable antennas, VTX and VRX cannot function effectively.

Components of an FPV Antenna

FPV antennas consist of three main components:

Active Element: The active element is the primary component responsible for radio transmission and reception.

Coaxial Cable: The coaxial cable connects the active element to the transmitter or receiver.

Connector: Connectors are necessary to interface with your VTX or VRX.

How Does an Antenna Work?

In wireless communication, there are always two essential components: a transmitter antenna and a receiver antenna. Similar to Wi-Fi and Bluetooth on your smartphone, FPV systems also use transmitter and receiver antennas.

Transmitter antennas receive video signals and convert them into radio waves, which are a form of electromagnetic radiation. This conversion is achieved by oscillating back and forth, effectively transforming electrical signals into electromagnetic radiation.

The receiving antenna then decodes these transmitted radio waves, turning them back into electrical impulses. The efficiency and effectiveness of video transmission depend directly on the FPV antenna's performance.

Understanding FPV Antenna

Directional vs. Omnidirectional Antenna

There are two primary classifications of antennas: directional and omnidirectional. While their underlying principles are similar, their methods of signal transmission differ significantly.

Directional antennas transmit radio waves in a focused beam, typically within a 120-degree or smaller angle. If the transmitter is outside the 120° receiving range, the receiving antenna won't pick up any signals, similar to a focused flashlight beam.

In contrast, omnidirectional antennas transmit signals in all directions, much like a light bulb. This ensures that the receiving antenna captures a portion of the video signal, regardless of the transmitter's position, providing ample coverage.

Different Types of FPV Antenna

Monopole Antenna: Monopole antennas use a ground plane and a straight rod-shaped conductor positioned perpendicular to it. They offer a focused emission pattern and are commonly used for point-to-point communications due to their ability to withstand wind, rain, and strong radio frequencies.

Dipole Antenna: Dipole antennas consist of two identical conducting elements, such as metal wires or rods. They are used for both transmitting and receiving antennas. The driving current from the transmitter or the output signal from the receiver powers receiving antennas.

Patch Antenna: Patch antennas are low-profile antennas that can be surface-mounted. They are typically composed of a flat metal or plastic sheet and offer omnidirectional radiation patterns. Patch antennas are commonly used in military, commercial aviation, and satellite communications.

Key Features of FPV Antenna

Antenna Polarization: Antennas come in two main polarization types: linear and circular. Linear antennas transmit waves along a single plane, either vertically or horizontally, while circular antennas emit waves that periodically spiral through both vertical and horizontal planes.

Antenna Gain: Antenna gain indicates the range and coverage angle of a directional antenna. It measures the difference in power between the antenna and an isotropic radiator, which radiates evenly in all directions. Higher gain provides longer range but with a narrower beam width.

Frequency: FPV antennas are tuned to specific radio frequencies. The most common frequencies for quadcopters are 2.4GHz and 5.8GHz. Lower frequencies like 915MHz are used for radio control and video transmission in long-range flight.

Factors to Consider When Choosing FPV Antenna

Receiver Antennas and Transmitter Antennas: Ensure you select the right antenna for each task. Use omnidirectional antennas for your video transmitter due to the drone's constant movement. For the video receiver, directional antennas are recommended for improved performance, especially in diversity configurations.

Antenna Connectors: Pay attention to antenna connectors, such as RP-SMA (reverse polarity SMA) and SMA. Ensure the connector on the VTX matches the antenna's connector. The use of MMCX connectors is becoming more popular for their rotating and swiveling heads, reducing strain on VTX connectors.

Weight and Durability: Antennas vary in weight, with some weighing only a few grams. If you're concerned about weight, consider lightweight options, especially for racing drones. Additionally, keep in mind the durability of your antenna, especially if you're into drone racing or freestyle.

Installation: When installing your VTX antenna, ensure it's positioned away from conductive materials and opt for a rigid antenna. The antenna's placement can vary based on your flying style, such as forward tilt for cruising drones. For long-distance flight, a different antenna positioning might be more appropriate. A more basic introduction to FPV VTX antennae is available here post: https://www.mepsking.com/blog/best-fpv-vtx-for-the-beginners.html

In summary, selecting the right FPV antenna for your drone is crucial for reliable communication and video transmission. Whether you opt for omnidirectional or directional antennas, consider the factors mentioned above to ensure optimal performance for your specific flying style and needs.

#Antenna #FPV Antenna #FPV DRONE #drone

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tomatodeals · 1 year

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3 Models - 9 Inch - S-Formed Pedal, Results, Patch, instrument cable CUSTOM MADE By WORLDS

Worth: (as of – Particulars) It is a {custom} constructed S-Formed cable meeting, made by WORLDS BEST CABLES (WBC). This cable meeting is made utilizing the Mogami 2524 wire and Eminence Premium Gold Plated 1/4 Inch right-angled, low profile Pancake kind Connectors. We at WBC all the time make world-class custom-built cable assemblies utilizing most of the main cable and connector manufacturers,…

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industrial-iep · 1 year

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Data Cable Installation Guide

Data cables are an essential part of most technology systems. They provide a secure and reliable connection to transfer data between different devices or networks. Installing data cables can be a complex process, as there are many important considerations when choosing the right type of cable for your application, as well as properly routing the cable for optimal performance and longevity. In this guide, we will discuss the basics of data cable installation, from selecting the best type of cable for your needs to properly fitting it into place.

When choosing what type of data cable, you need for your project, consider factors such as how long the cable must be, if it needs to be shielded from outside interference, and what kind of connector is required at either end. For example, if you are connecting two computers together with an Ethernet cable, you would need a Cat-5 or Cat-6 Ethernet cable with RJ45 connectors on both ends. It is also important to make sure that all connections are properly secured with strain relief clamps or other secure wiring practices.

The installation process for data cables requires attention to detail and accurate execution. To ensure proper installation, follow these steps:

1. Lay out the cable run from the point of origin to the termination location. It is important that all bends are kept as tight as possible with no kinks or sharp angles in order to minimize signal losses.

2. Use a level and measuring tape to ensure that all conduits and pathways are straight, level, and appropriately measured so that the cable will fit properly.

3. Follow manufacturer-recommended guidelines when drilling holes or installing conduit boxes in walls or floors. Be sure to place conduit boxes securely in walls and floors before threading any cables through them.

4. Make sure to leave enough slack for the cable at each end of the run so that it can be properly connected to the devices and patch panels.

5. Connect any applicable cables connectors or splice blocks, following manufacturer guidelines and relevant building codes. Be sure to use appropriate tools when stripping, cutting, or connecting cables in order to minimize damage and ensure a secure connection.

6. Test all connections with an ohmmeter or continuity tester before attaching them to patch panels or other devices. This is especially important if you are using shielded cables as poor connections may result in interference issues due to lack of proper shielding.

7. Use appropriate fixing methods such as grommets, clips, or ties to secure the cable along its run. This will help reduce the risk of damage due to abrasion, vibration, and other environmental factors.

8. Label all cables in accordance with industry standards and manufacturer guidelines so that they can be easily identified and understood by future users.

Once you have determined the type of data cable needed for your project and have purchased it along with any necessary connectors and accessories, you can begin running it through the desired space needed for installation. When running a cable through walls or between floors in a building, make sure to use UL listed conduit suitable for low voltage applications like data cabling. This will ensure that the cables are protected from physical damage while keeping them safe from electromagnetic interference (EMI). Additionally, any outlets used should be specifically labeled as “data” instead of “power” in order to avoid confusion in case maintenance is ever needed in the future.

Once all cables are run into their designated locations and securely fastened in place using zip ties or other appropriate fasteners, connect them to their respective devices using compatible connectors and wall plates/patch panels when applicable. When plugging in any plugs/connectors make sure they are fully seated by gently pushing them into place until they click; never force them into place as this can damage both the connector and mating port. Once all connections are made test each one individually before powering on any connected device(s). With these simple tips installing data cables will be easier than ever!

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system3net · 2 years

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Key Tips to a Successful Rack and Stack

When it comes to succeeding in any profession, it is always important to understand the fundamentals of that particular field. In data center hardware implementation, the most basic concept is the physical placement of hardware inside a data center; or as IT professionals like to call it, the “rack and stack” of hardware into cabinets and racks. System3 Offers a Professional Service to Rack and Stack in India, but here are some useful strategies to consider for a rack and stack job if you want to do it on your own.

Know the brand of the hardware and the brand of the rack beforehand

This will give you a feel for what adjustments are needed for the racks and hardware rails. If you know both the hardware and the rack are made by the same manufacturer (ex. EMC, Dell, IBM, etc.), then your job will be easier because the hardware is made to fit nicely into its accompanying rack. In other words, virtually no adjustments will be made to the rails or rack.

Understand all power requirements before arriving on site

A key factor that delays many projects is power-related issues. In some instances, a client’s data center is not prepared with the necessary power for the given project. This can end up delaying a project by several days or weeks. However, with a little more preparation on the consulting side, this is an avoidable concern.

Contact the Data Center a few days in advance of the on-site visit.

Make sure their facilities manager allocates the proper amount of power circuits if brand-new racks are installed.

Confirm with the ISP for Circuit Delivery

You don’t want to be on-site without any Internet connectivity. Work with ISP’s closely to ensure that circuit delivery and last-mile patching is done before the equipment arrives on site.

Know the type of PDU’s (Power Distribution Units) used in the data center

Some PDU’s have outlets for the “C13 to NEMA 5-15P” standard power cables while other PDU’s have outlets for the “C13 to C14” power cables. C13 to NEMA 5-15P power cables have a female end that plugs into the hardware device and a male end which has three prongs and plugs into the power outlet. The C13 to C14 power cables are similar except the male end has a hooded enclosure over the prongs. Order the Right Power Cords

Organise for Onsite Arrival

Plan where the equipment will be unloaded, how will it be unloaded, and who will do this – do you need extra manpower? Where will the Equipment be prepared, how much storage space do you have? Who will move the Equipment from the store to the racks?

Understand Data Center Layout

Is the rack space allocated sufficient, both for today and for your future growth? What happens when you need more racks – will they be adjacent, or in another aisle? Review sales order and hardware list to ensure enough rack space are available for all equipment (Both rack mount and non-rackmount).

Be prepared with the necessary tools and materials

One would have a tough time completing a rack and stack with their bare hands. Here are some tools & materials we recommend:

Screwdriver drill and bit set

When racking and stacking many pieces of hardware, it can get very tiring to mount all screws with a standard screwdriver. A drill will save time and energy.

Standard Phillips head and flat-head screwdrivers

The drill should be used the majority of the time, but standard screwdrivers are handy for awkward angles that arise from time to time.

Scissors or box cutter

These are absolutely necessary for cutting through boxes, tape, and packing materials.

Zip Ties or Velcro ties

Racking and stacking involve a large volume of cables. These ties are essential for cable management, cleanliness, and organization.

Label Printer & Label Tapes

You will need to label everything, from cables to equipment.

Spare Power Cords

Never a bad idea to have few at hand, if for nothing else some boxed material may have dead on-arrival power cords.

Cage Nuts and Screws

While most of the rack rails today do not need these, you never know which equipment did not come with the right nut and screw set and will end up not getting mounted properly.

Safety first: always ask for assistance when needed

In many instances, the rack stack pop India engineer is left to complete the work independently. While this is certainly doable, there are times when it is just too difficult to lift a heavy piece of hardware above one’s head and line it up into a rack. Trying to handle an excessive load can lead to injury or damage to the expensive hardware. The best solution for this is asking someone for help or using a server lift machine.

Document your rack design and layout

Label all servers, IT equipment, and rack accessories. As you are labeling, remember to record all serial numbers. Having a complete inventory of all the equipment in the rack and continuously documenting changes will keep you better informed in the future.

Install the heaviest servers and equipment at the bottom of the rack

Maintaining the bulk of weight at the bottom of the rack will prevent it from tipping over in the future.

Label both ends of cables

Keep track of network connections precisely. Accurate port mapping and cable traceability will greatly help engineers and technicians with ongoing maintenance.

Use different colors of cables to distinguish different roles and functions

We like to use Blue and Red Powercords to differentiate between A and B Power Feeds, and Multiple colors of Networking Patch management Delhi cords to plan for Storage, Primary, and Secondary Network Connections

Tie off Cables in bundles per function

Using either plastic cable ties or Velcro. There is a disadvantage to using plastic cable ties as they must be cut to make any modifications. Velcro, on the other hand, can be unbound and rebound as needed to make adjustments without having to unbind the whole cable run.

Leave slack in the cables

Eight inches of slack is ideal, but you should leave no more than twelve inches of slack as this excess can become cumbersome.

Do not bundle power cables next to data cables

Bundling the different types of cables closely together causes electromagnetic interference.

Original Source: Key Tips to a Successful Rack and Stack

#Rack Stack Pop India #Rack Stack Pop Delhi #Patch Management Delhi #Patch Management India #IT Service Provider Delhi #IT Service Provider India #Data Center Management Delhi #Data Center Management India

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synthesizernz · 2 years

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Nearly all colours of the right angled patch cables are now available, the new arrivals also include the new @tendrils.cables 1/4 right angled cables and Mutants Mk2 🧟‍♀️ (at Synthesizer New Zealand) https://www.instagram.com/p/CjykVkpB-iD/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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tendrilscables · 5 days

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Right Angled Patch Cables

Optimize your cable management with Tendrils Cables' Right Angled Patch Cables. Engineered with precision, these cables ensure smoother routing and reduced strain on ports, perfect for tight spaces and clutter-free setups.

#Right Angled Patch Cables

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hintonkemp61 · 2 years

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starkeristheendgame · 3 years

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Hunter!Tony x Demon!Peter AU

Hunter!Tony binds Demon!Peter to himself in order to find the monster that murdered his late fiancée. Lead down roads he’d never imagined himself taking, Tony discovers that maybe revenge isn’t the only thing he’s hungry for.

“Is being a pervert part of the hiring process or are you just getting your money’s worth?”

Tony couldn’t see it, but he knew regardless that those plush lips would be pushed into a pout and those arched brows would be furrowed into a petulant scowl.

“If you’ve got me running around like your little errand boy, the least you could do is be nice to me,” a high, sweet voice simpered back. The face that belonged to it was just as youthful when it appeared in the mirror over his shoulder, watching him button his shirt with vested interest.

Tony didn’t deign to dignify it with a reply, staring down the pretty little monster until it let out a sigh.

“Fine. I have your lead. Arkansas, a seedy little dive known as the Dog Den.”

Something hot and rabid twisted in his gut and he had to pause his motions, hands trembling almost imperceptibly. It felt a lot like rage and a little bit like hope.

“Are you sure?”

Eyes the colour of fresh honey rolled so hard he could almost hear the muscles stretching. “No. I asked a magic eight-ball.”

He twisted with a snarl, reaching out. The ring on his finger pulsed with a molten orange glow and between slender wrists a chain that shimmered transparently flared to life, forming a delicate set of shackles no wider than if he’d wound a necklace there.

He curled a finger in the glowing links, dragging the Demon close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in those dark eyes.

“I’m sure,” it repeated, softer, quieter, holding his gaze with wariness, but not fear.

He let the chain drop after a moment, grunting as he turned around and finished buttoning up his shirt. When he twisted to reach for the jacket the lithe figure was sprawled out on his bed, artfully arranged as the Demon flipped through a magazine Tony knew hadn’t been in his own bags.

“You know,” the Demon piped up again as he tucked in his shirt, “maybe if you smiled a little more, the ugly things in the dark wouldn’t try to kill you as much.”

“Shut up.”

“Not possible.”

“I’ll make it possible.”

“Oh, you always promise me a good time and never deliver.”

Despite himself, Tony found he had to wrestle fiercely with a smile. “Peter.”

That heady, dangerous gaze pinned itself to him again. He met it evenly, ignoring the thrum of his pulse. The Demon really couldn’t have picked a prettier vessel to take over, a smudge of parasitic darkness inside the prettiest packaging.

That pink little mouth opened like it was considering another witty retort, then closed. Instead the Demon - Peter, merely hummed and went back to flicking through his magazine, disinterestedly glossing over half-naked women and gossip scandals.

It was almost disconcerting. To look at the pretty little slip of a thing sprawled out on his bed like some rented whore and to know that behind that pretty face was a being of Hell’s creation. Something twisted and dark, a corrupted soul festering behind a distracting smokescreen.

Peter Parker was the sort of face Tony would’ve fallen for like a rock, if he hadn’t been the one to summon the Demon to the surface.

Perhaps that’s why the Demon had chosen such a nice outfit. A desperate bid not to get ganked the moment he crawled out of Hell.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” Peter sighed, turning a page idly. He’d rolled over onto his stomach now, jaw propped in his palm.

“You can’t read minds. Don’t get comfortable, we’re leaving soon,” he grunted in reply, shrugging on a jacket.

“Can’t I just meet you there?” the Demon whined, looking up with (literally) sinful puppy eyes.

“No.”

He left it at that, flat and unforgiving, as he had to be. In another life he’d have fallen for that soft whine and that pleading look. Might’ve taken his shirt right off and crawled onto the bed, put that open mouth to good use.

But this was not that life, and that pretty face was stolen.

He checked all his things then reached out, plucking the gossip rag from Peter’s hands and throwing it in the trash. “Meet me at the car.”

“I was reading that,” Peter huffed indignantly, glowering up at him before he disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a dip in the bedspread and the scent of copper.

He was sprawled in the backseat when Tony made his out to the 1970 Challenger he called his own, a set of stylish shades covering his eyes, fluffy hair unkempt and arms folded behind his head.

“Feet off the upholstery,” he huffed as he turned the key, swinging the car out of the parking lot and onto the road with a loud rumble of the engine.

“I know for a fact you sleep in this car and my shoes are clean,” Peter answered primly, angling his head towards the open window and the warmth of the morning sun.

Arkansas was a three day drive. They spent the first in almost complete silence, although the Demon did sulk when they stopped for gas and Tony declined to buy him anything. Rather than waste money on another motel he pulled onto a quiet patch of land behind a thicket of trees, settling across the bench seat with a sigh.

“Fuck off and come back in the morning.”

“Eloquent as ever,” Peter griped, leaning over the seat, arms folded and chin atop them. He looked laughably angelic in the darkness, all soft edges, voice quiet enough that a mouse wouldn’t flee it.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered, and when Tony cracked open an eye to repeat his command, he was gone.

Gone, until he thumped his fist on the window at the ass-crack of dawn, looking chipper and cheerful, Starbucks cup in hand. “Up and at ‘em, sunshine! The monsters aren’t gonna hunt themselves!”

Tony considered stabbing him there and then, but Peter was unfortunately an asset he couldn’t afford to lose. Invaluable, as much as it stroked the Demon’s ego. He settled for glaring, baring past the Demon as he stomped off to relieve himself.

The next two nights went much the same, although Peter got chattier the more bored he became. Fiddled with the radio, disappeared for moments only to return holding an ‘interesting’ leaf or rock, scooped up from the side of the road Tony had just driven past.

Arkansas was crisp and bright and dewy in the mid-weeks of spring. It was so different from the New York of his youth, with it’s towering glass jungle and concrete pillars. It was a visceral reaction to think of the scent of flowers and clean air in Sicily, of pink lipstick smudged on his jaw, a laugh fading slowly, overtaken by the rumble of the engine.

Countryside became a smattering of industrialisation, bars and houses, garages and stores. He wanted to keep on going, chase that tail until he caught it and tore it off, but he knew better than to rush in half-blind.

He had to eat something proper. Had to rest. Had to learn everything he could from the paltry little stack of papers that Peter had given him, printed out at a library miles and miles back in the time it had taken Tony to piss and buy a bottle of water at a gas station.

Food, first.

The diner was like every other. Gaudy and cheap with food that was more grease than nutrition. Peter’s nose scrunched the moment they entered and he looked nonplussed when they were guided to a booth.

The Demon made a big show of pulling out a pack of wipes from the pocket of his fitted jacket, scrubbing the table as the waitress listed off the day’s specials. Tony rolled his eyes before ordering coffee and a slap-up breakfast, about to dismiss the waitress when Peter cut in with a saccharine smile.

“Bacon too, please. Crispy. And a milkshake. Thanks a bunch, darling.”

She arched her brows but made no comment, glancing at Tony before leaving. Then it was Tony’s turn to stare and quirk his brow, watching the Demon shrug lightly.

“What? I get cravings.”

Peter fiddled with a napkin as they waited, as Tony read through the sheets of paper. Folding it over and over into a little crane that he perched atop the salt shaker.

“Where did you even learn origami?” Tony grunted, watching it sway before it stabilised. Peter’s gaze flicked up to him and there was something unexpected there. A hollowness, heavily guarded but flickering in the gold of his irises even so.

“Even the worst of the worst need hobbies, hunter,” he uttered softly, and then their food arrived and they were lost to the silence that overcame those sating their hunger. Peter ate with an almost childlike manner, easily distracted, toying with his straw before each sip. He even swung his legs a little and drummed his fingertips on the table top.

The perfect performance.

He looked away.

Peter was unusually quiet after that, subdued as they made their way to a motel relatively close to the Dog Den. He didn’t even pester the receptionist or try to embarrass Tony by pretending to be some sort of rent boy as he purchased a key, eyeing the Demon consideringly.

When Tony slipped beneath the sheets Peter disappeared without argument, offering only a mock salute before he flickered and was gone, leaving nothing but a wisp of dark smoke.

He wondered where the Demon went. Back to Hell? Some run-down library to read through the night? An empty motel room to pilfer their cable connection?

The disconcertion over Peter’s silence left him the next day, when he commanded Peter to steer clear as he got dressed to hit their lead.

“You can’t go alone,” Peter announced, frowning.

“I can and I am. You’ll just attract attention,” Tony pointed out, shrugging on another flannel and tucking the flask of holy water against his belt.

“And if you die?” Peter shot back. It surprised his brows into lifting as he met the Demon’s gaze, tipping his head.

“Then you’ll be free of your bindings and there’ll be one less hunter ganking your friends. What’s the problem?”

Peter’s mouth opened, then closed, as if he was only suddenly remembering that he wasn’t in this little dynamic duo willingly.

“I get the Challenger if you die,” the Demon said instead, turning away from.

And maybe Tony should’ve thought more about that demand, because the only thing he could think of as he lay bleeding in the middle of the woods several long hours later was that Peter would most definitely get the car all scratched up and dirty.

Demons had no respect for vehicle maintenance.

He coughed wetly and grunted, pressing a hand to his bleeding chest. They wouldn’t, he supposed. Demons could just fly everywhere.

Peter had adamantly argued it was not teleportation.

He breathed out a sigh and shifted fumbling for his wallet. His fingers smeared blood against the white edges of the crumpled photograph in there and he stared at his wife’s smile, frozen in time and taken just days before a Demon on a murder kick had burnt her soul up from within her, along with their unborn daughter.

“I’d say see you soon, but. W’both know m’goin’ to Hell, not where you are,” he told her image softly, giving it a weary, slow smile.

“Hell would ask for a refund,” came a familiar voice, and moments later there were warm hands on his jaw, tilting his head up. “You stupid bastard. I told you not to go alone. I could feel there was someone stronger in this town!”

Peter’s eyes were wide and round, plump lower lip between his teeth as he dropped his gaze, eyeing where Tony was slowly leaking his insides all over his outsides. “Shit,” the Demon breathed softly.

Tony made an agreeable sound. Shit was about right. He’d run head first into the messy, gruesome end that almost every hunter found themselves at. The end of the road; the final curtain; bleeding out somewhere at the hands of something twisted and ugly and evil.

“Guess you get th’car,” he rasped, aiming for humorous. It fell short when he blanched and more hot fluid slid down his throat and his chest, pooling at his navel.

“Shut up,” Peter growled at him, letting go of his head to pull up his shirt. His fingertips were light, but it still felt like fire. Hot and licking over everything he touched. “God, you’re so fucking stupid. I told you to take me. I told you I should go.”

“C’n you save th’gloatin’ ‘till I’m dead?” he asked, frowning. Most hunters probably didn’t get this much conversation on their deathbeds.

Peter shot him a positively scathing look, pressing down hard on the wound. It made agony flare up his torso, smothering his pathetic yell of pain into a weak, thready rasp.

“This is gonna hurt us both,” the Demon muttered, looking inexplicably angry as he settled his palms flat atop the worst of the wound. A muted sound was all Tony could manage, watching the Demon with hazy confusion.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Or at least, Tony didn’t notice it happening.

But then a strange, new type of pain began to lance through him, battling against the numbing burn of his torn organs. It crept through his veins and branched out, a tingling, almost electric sensation that had him tensing as best as his broken body would let him.

He opened his mouth and if he’d had the energy left for it he’d have reeled in surprise when Peter leaned forwards, slotting their mouths together firmly.

The Demon’s lips were soft and plush, with the faintest trace of soda. His lips were warm, too, just a breath above what would be normal for a person.

Tony almost didn’t know what he should be recoiling at the most; kissing a Demon, or kissing what was for all intents and purposes a sixteen year old.

Peter didn’t try to do anything else and Tony realised in the timeframe that he’d been internally broiling over the situation, breathing had become easier.

The fire was dulling to a simmer; a slow ember that still ached but no longer made him feel like he had one foot in the gates of Hell. His breath hitched and Peter pulled back slowly, keeling to one side slightly and almost falling over as he drew away.

His eyes were pools of inkblack, shiny and void as the Demon sucked in his own rattled breath, pulling shaking hands away from Tony’s torso.

He let his gaze fall slowly to his chest. He was still covered in blood, but the flesh there looked smooth and unmarred. Where he was once carved open like a pot hole there was once again closed off muscle and flesh.

He looked up in surprise. Peter was on his knees, hands braced on his thighs as he rode out the strain of wrangling his leashed powers. His eyes were slowly returning to the human hue, red-rimmed as if he’d been crying, plump lips downturned.

Tony licked his own, jerked straight back into the sensation of Peter’s mouth on his.

“Why?” he demanded roughly, bringing a hand to subconsciously touch his chest.

Peter shot him a sidelong look, the effect slightly dampened by the way he looked vaguely sick.

“A thank you might be nice,” the Demon sneered at him, huffing a twisted curl from his eyes as Tony pushed himself to his feet, ungainly and uncoordinated. Bracing himself on a tree, Tony stared down at the Demon.

At Peter, who’d saved his life. Against all he stood to benefit from Tony’s death, against all that he’d done his best to kill him when he first discovered he’d been shackled to Tony.

Coughing, Tony did his best to pull his shredded shirt closed before he made a rough gesture. “Get up. You’ll have to take us back to the motel. My car’s still at the bar.” Smashed up or stolen, he realised with a pang of sadness and anger.

“Oh no, lover-boy. You’ve been keeping me at half-mast all year. One night of fun has done me in for the night. I’m limp - get your own ride into town.”

Tony glowered, but all his frowning and snapping proved fruitless. Peter’s powers had been bound tight for almost a year and he really was burnt out, looking every inch as young as his vessel as he wobbled to his feet. The most he managed them was a few meters down the road when he tried.

It took them until sunrise to come close enough to the town that Tony could hotwire a car from the side of the road, ditching it a reasonable way from the motel and wiping it down with a clean patch of his shirt to get rid of his fingerprints.

He wasn’t bothered about Peter’s. Peter had mentioned having this particular vessel for over fifty years - his prints would be written off as a glitch on the system.

He went straight for the shower, scrubbing his skin pink as he tried to sleuth off the memory of being cut open, of dying alone in the dark and the cold, certain that this was his one-way ticket downstairs.

Brushed his teeth; trying to rid himself of the guilt that came with realising that the kiss had been pleasant, to a degree. Soft, pink skin, the sweetness of a soda consumed while Tony had been-

He shut off the water.

When he stepped out, Peter was actually curled up in the bed, looking almost infantile with the covers pulled up to his jaw. He seemed only half-awake, barely stirring when Tony entered the room. He was pulling on a new shirt when Peter spoke, voice sleepy and quiet.

“My Uncle taught me.”

Tony paused, glancing over his shoulder.

“Origami,” Peter clarified softly. “You asked me. At the diner. Where I’d learned origami. My Uncle taught me when I was thirteen.”

Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, Tony took a light seat on the edge of the bed, each of them facing a separate wall. He was quiet for a little while, digesting the information.

“Thank you for saving me,” he grunted after a moment, uncomfortable with the intimacy of the words. It wasn’t anything he’d ever thought he’d say to a Demon. Peter had gotten him out of scrapes and healed up wounds before, but always under command and never anything so serious.

Desperate to rein back some control, he slid under the sheets and stared up at the ceiling. “If you ever kiss me again, I’ll use thread soaked in holy water and sew your mouth shut.”

Irritatingly, Peter snorted. “That was hardly a kiss.”

“You’re in a snot-nosed brat’s body, what would you know about kissing?” Tony shot back, brows pinching into a frown.

“This,” Peter huffed at him, rolling over and on top of him.

Tony blamed the fact that he didn’t pull away on simply being too tired to.

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freezing-kaiju · 3 years

Text

have a nice day :)

a messy little asurei thing i wrote up for @ayanamimon's Evasona au

---

“HAVE A NICE DAY!” Igor called out, the only clear statement the nonsense bastard had bothered giving her for...

For how long?

Months?

A year?

Asuka staggered to a wall and laid her head against the cool metal.

Months. Weeks. Could be three days. She could’ve been in classes last week. She could’ve graduated college only a year ago, not nearly a decade and too late to meet anyone, too early for any experience...

She grew up too fast. Gottverdammnt. Everyone says that, Asuka knew she wasn’t-- Asuka WAS special! She fucking was!

She had to be.

Meeting people. Meeting...m...

Watch. Check. Right.

...two...in the morning. Okay. That’s an hour, sure. Time was still going.

Who was awake?

Toji had his morning runs. Mari was probably sound asleep. Kensuke would be dozing...Erisu wasn’t home... and, ugh, not Shinji.

That left...Wonder Girl.

Asuka trudged towards the blue glow of her door. Because of course she’d be color-coding her lights and of course she’d be up now. Doing...l33t hax0rz behavior, or whatever she’d call it!

She brought a hand to the door and knocked.

No response.

‘Course. Asuka should announce herself. With...her pomp, and circumstance, and whatnot.

She dragged a hand across her face, shoved the door open, and tripped on a wire.

Aside from a pause in her typing, Ayanami didn’t respond.

“Evening, Wonder Girl.”

An aggressively tapped key.

Asuka clambered to her feet, stretched, and groaned. “Mind if I use your room?”

“...go ahead.”

“Glad I’m worthy of your grace.”

Ayanami made a sound. Not an intelligible sound, not an identifiable one, but a sound. Asuka almost liked it.

She waded her way through cables and a sticky patch of spilled energy drink to Ayanami’s nearly bare mattress. Was this thing even safe? Eh, who cares. Asuka flopped down and sighed. Then gritted her teeth, curled up her body, and screamed.

Primal roars, banshee shrieks, cries of despair and triumph all at the same time all wordless and all directed into the first’s bedding as Asuka as the red pilot as the supposed leader losing her grip more each day pounded into it with fists that saw enough combat already fists that were forgetting anything but that fists that belonged around a throat and her throat was growing hoarser and hoarser as her eyes grew redder and redder as she contorted and broke and shifted and--

And collapsed.

In perfect form, all angles and muscle and weary heart, as human as she’ll ever be.

Asuka Langley Soryu looked up.

Rei Ayanami stared back.

Scheisse, that’s a rarity, Asuka thought as she bit back her final scream.

Ayanami tilted her head up. An invitation. A go on, let it out nod.

Asuka obliged.

Ayanami withstood the sound, turned her eyes to the heavens and then back to Asuka. She untangled herself from her headphones, tapped some nonsense on her keyboard and flicked off her monitors, poured some coolant down a tube to gott-knows-where...

And stood.

And stepped forward.

And laid down, directly on top of Asuka.

Who...who does that? Who would ever do that? Who in their right mind would see someone make a complete pathetic freakazoid of themselves and go oh, well you’ve embarrassed yourself beyond all possible means, let me get in on that and just LAYS THERE? Asuka wanted to scream...but her voice was hoarse. She couldn’t force it out.

And Ayanami...curled. She raised her legs up onto the mattress, shifted across Asuka’s back to sprawl just slightly different. The pressure was killing her. That’s what that was, it was the pressure.

It...wasn’t too bad, though.

Uncomfortable. Sweaty. Weird.

But hey, her back didn’t hurt. And she was already tired, it’d be more trouble to just push Rei off.

It’d be trouble for both of them to shove Asuka out.

So Asuka stayed.

#neon genesis evangelion #persona #asurei #asuka langley soryu #rei ayanami #igor #my writing #leanne grabs a megaphone #do i have a writing tag????

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missfangirll · 3 years

Text

Let my heart be still a moment

Fandom: SCI Mystery Rating: General Relationship: Zhan Yao/Bai Yutong, Zhan Yao & Zhao Jue Tags: Angst with a happy ending, Case fic Words: 3815 Summary: When Bai Yutong is seriously injured on a mission, Zhan Yao has to find the ones responsible, receiving some help along the way.

Read on AO3

For @the-sassiest-trixster: You requested SCI, “go ham”, so I really hope you like it, despite it being more bonding with Zhao Jue than love story 😅

- - - - -

“It’s a trap,” is the last thought Zhan Yao has before the explosion hits him and throws him against a wall, his legs giving out from the shock and he drops down to his hands and knees. He can’t hear anything past the ringing in his ears, and feels some liquid trickling down his neck, ruptured eardrums, he thinks dimly. His right wrist feels wrong when he tries to support himself to get up, and there is blood in his eye, probably on the whole side of his face. He tries to wipe at it, only to get more in his eyes, and curses silently. Trying to make out his surroundings, he carefully sits up on his knees, still slightly shaky from the impact. The room they just had entered, an unremarkable living room with a worn bottle-green sofa and a low coffee table, looks quite different than mere seconds ago: Now he can see the bomb that was hidden in the sofa, cables and wires sticking out in all directions, shreds of green and white upholstery floating in the air like giant snowflakes. Miraculously, nothing’s on fire, a fact he should be grateful for, he thinks, when he notices the heap of limbs next to him, and freezes.

He can see at first glance that Bai Yutong is heavily injured, having been the first to enter the room and taking the brunt of the explosion. His limbs are twisted in strange angles, his usually pristine white suit has dark stains that are rapidly growing, and what Zhan Yao can see from his face, the part that is not covered in blood, looks wrong. His eyes are closed, and for the first time since they entered the apartment, Zhan Yao is scared.

Carefully, slowly, he approaches Bai Yutong on hands and knees, while trying to keep his weight from his injured arm. Reaching him, he extends a hand to wipe the blood from the other’s face, then stops mid-movement and takes his hand instead. Holding his breath, he takes the other’s pulse, readjusting his shaking fingers.

Nothing.

No pulse.

Zhan Yao starts shaking uncontrollably, clutching Bai Yutong’s wrist to his chest, his breathing ragged and almost hysterical.

No. No, no, no.

- - - - -

His consciousness flickers, and he only vaguely recognises their team members, frantically buzzing around them, before everything turns black.

He awakes to a distant beeping sound and a blinding pain behind his right eye. With a groan he tries to sit up, only to be stopped by a gentle hand on his chest.

“Easy there, Professor.”

Opening his eyes doesn’t really help his disorientation, since everything on his right side stays in darkness, while everything on the left is painfully bright. Groaning again, he tries to raise his hand to his face, only to discover it won’t move. Before he can try again with more force, the hand moves to his shoulder.

“Don’t move too much, Professor. You have a shattered shoulder and a shrapnel in your right eye, not to mention the broken wrist, ulna, and cracked ribs.” The voice laughs drily. “You should take it slowly for a while.”

“Yu… Tong,” he manages to croak out, voice hoarse and rattling.

The voice stays silent for a while, then, a shaky inhale. “His injuries… are worse than yours,” it explains, and Zhan Yao feels his heart freeze over. Ignoring the searing pain he turns his head to face the person beside his bed.

Zhao Fu sighs, then removes his hand from the other’s shoulder. In an attempt to look stern, Zhan Yao furrows his brows. Another sigh, then a cup of water appears in his field of vision. Apparently the other doesn’t trust his coordination, because he holds the cup to Zhan Yao’s lips who empties it in three large gulps. The cup is removed, and Zhan Yao makes an impatient noise for the other to continue.

“I won’t lie to you, Professor,” Zhao Fu says finally, “It doesn’t look good. He has multiple broken bones: a fractured skull, both cheekbones are shattered, some broken ribs… But the internal injuries are what concerns the doctors most.” He inhales again, his composure stretched thin over the boiling abyss of fear and worry. “I don’t..” He breaks off, then starts again, his voice raspy, “I don’t know if he… If he….” He trails off, not able to finish that thought, and Zhan Yao turns his head away to hide his tears.

- - - - -

It takes him four days to get out of bed, and five more to leave the hospital for good. All this time, Bai Yutong’s state doesn’t change, and Zhan Yao finds that, after almost a week of sitting by his bedside holding his hand, he has no more tears to cry. His grief has been replaced by a burning anger, and he knows exactly what he is going to do with it.

His first message after leaving the hospital is to the team, calling them to the office this afternoon. The second is to Zhao Jue.

Their relationship to the older man has developed into a strange kind of truce over the last months, and while he still doesn’t trust him, he knows what Zhao Jue is capable of - which is exactly why he asks him to meet.

Walking up the winding stairs to the loft always feels like climbing a lighthouse or an ancient castle, were it not for the strange paintings on the wall that only worsen his headache with their spiralling, whirling patterns.

Zhao Jue seems to be informed about the situation, since he comments neither on the eye-patch Zhan Yao is still wearing over his damaged right eye nor on the sling on his left arm, or his slightly limping gait, for that matter. He just nods in greeting and gestures towards a sofa, resuming to pour tea into two cups, then following Zhan Yao to the seat.

Only after they have finished the tea in silence and Zhao Jue has refilled their cups, he speaks. Clearing his throat, he asks simply, “Who?”

Zhan Yao exhales slowly, thinking what he can safely tell the other who is technically a wanted serial killer without compromising any police secrets, then shrugs inwardly and begins to talk. He tells him about the abduction case that had shocked the whole city into frantic activity, about their only lead being a shady witness, waiting for his own prosecution for human trafficking in a city prison. He had offered to give them information in exchange for a reduced sentence, and his leads had sounded reasonable, nothing indicating he was lying or setting them up. He had given them a name which in turn had led them to the apartment. Now it is obvious it has been a trap from the beginning, but who is behind it all, that Zhan Yao isn’t sure of. The witness didn’t look intelligent or influential enough to pull such a maneuver from a prison cell, which only leaves someone directly involved in the abduction.

Zhao Jue listens to these explanations without a word, only now and then stirring his tea cup with his ring finger. After Zhan Yao finishes, he stays silent for a while, looking thoughtfully at the younger man. Zhan Yao has laid out his cards, he thinks, now he waits for the other to show his hand.

Zhao Jue clears his throat again. “What do you want to do?” His voice sounds soft, gentle, betraying nothing of the steel Zhan Yao knows to lie underneath.

He almost shrugs, then remembers his shoulder and winces slightly, noticing how something like worry crosses over the other’s face, before he resumes his indifferent mask. It’s a good question, however. The next natural step would be to interrogate the witness again, to get him to spill some names, places, anything that could help them pin down the ones behind the bomb. The latter would be another lead to investigate, but it has already been transferred to the department that deals with explosives - and has a real lab, not that there is anything wrong with Gongsun and his experiments, but even his enthusiasm can’t replace a centrifuge. The problem is, though, that interrogating the witness-turned-suspect a second time has been the first thing Zhao Fu did after leaving the hospital, and unfortunately to no avail. The man had simply refused to talk, stating he already had helped them and didn’t know anything about a trap or a bomb. Thus, all their leads have gone cold.

Sighing, Zhan Yao shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he admits. Zhao Jue raises an eyebrow, but stays silent while Zhan Yao continues, “I could try interrogate the witness again, but the chances that he talks to me are--”

“He will talk.”

Zhan Yao startles at the interruption and closes his mouth with a snap, staring at the other.

“He will talk,” Zhao Jue repeats, and it’s with a finality that makes Zhan Yao shiver involuntarily.

- - - - -

He does talk.

It takes twenty minutes until Zhao Jue emerges from the interview room with two names scribbled on a yellow post-it note. The suspect is still sitting at the table, pressing his hands to his ears, rocking back and forth, mouthing silently. Zhan Yao remembers Bai Yutong’s still form in a hospital bed and doesn’t feel sorry.

Zhao Jue wordlessly hands the note to Jiang Ling, then grabs Zhan Yao’s uninjured shoulder and steers him towards his office. Closing the door behind him, Zhao Jue lets go and takes a step back, crossing his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrow in a silent invitation to talk. Zhan Yao bristles, but before he can snap at the other, a call from outside draws their attention back to the case.

“Professor, we found something!”

Without a word, Zhan Yao rushes past the other man who follows him after a second’s hesitation. He isn’t sure if he heard the other sigh, but ignores this detail for now. On the large screen, the two names Zhao Jue got from the suspect are displayed, next to the persons’ photos and information. Chen Shen, the left file reads. Fifty-three, suspected to be involved in the local drug trade, divorced, his daughter studies drama in London. The right side of the screen is almost empty, Zhan Yao notes with a frown. The woman in the blurry photograph looks a bit over forty, wearing a suit jacket and, oddly enough, a tie. Apart from her name, there are no further details. Zhan Yao turns to his team, a question on his lips, when Wang Shao explains, “Her real name is Zhang Qi,” and Zhan Yao whirls around to stare at him. That name is familiar, well-known in all law enforcement, for being the supposed head of a trafficking ring that specialises in little girls. There has never been so much as a rumour to tie her to anything, nothing that could be proven, and police and criminals alike are equally afraid and astonished.

Zhao Fu is the first to break the silence. “If she is involved in our abduction,” he says slowly, massaging the bridge of his nose, “then the girl is likely out of the country by now.” The rest of the team nod in begrudging agreement.

A chuckle from the door startles all of them, and several chairs turn around swiftly to face the intruder who adds cheekily, “Seems I’ve arrived at the perfect moment.” Stepping into the room, Zhao Zhen reveals three large boxes which he carefully deposits on the nearest desk, grinning widely. “I think you all need some sugar before you decide anything important,” he declares, and Zhan Yao’s heart clenches at the sight of his team, who give him sideway glances, smiling hesitantly. He isn’t the only one who worries, he realises, and forces his face into a smile. “Alright,” he nods, “let’s have some sugar before we continue.”

The donuts do help, and after a few minutes, Jiang Ling approaches Zhan Yao with wide eyes and powdered sugar on her cheeks. “Professor,” she exclaims, “I just had an idea how to find the evil lady.” Zhan Yao looks expectantly at her, only to receive a headshake. “It would probably take longer to explain it,” she shrugs apologetically, then adds, “I’ll just try it now, if that’s okay,” and Zhan Yao can only nod.

Soundlessly, Zhao Jue steps out of a corner and Zhan Yao startles. He still isn’t used to his right side being blind, and the other moving without a sound doesn’t help. He almost reprimands him, when the older man grips his shoulder once more, this time not to move, but to make him stay and listen. Zhan Yao shuts his mouth with a snap.

“You should go,” Zhao Jue says quietly, and Zhan Yao doesn’t have to ask where. Knowing the others will call him, he just nods, and turns to his team, but before he can form a word, Ma Han makes a shooing motion at him and sighs. “We can deal with this, Professor,” she says, sounding a tiny bit impatient, something Zhan Yao would definitely address if he had any brain capacity left for it. So he just nods again, and is out of the building and in a taxi in less than two minutes.

Bai Yutong’s state hasn’t changed in the two days Zhan Yao didn’t visit him, nor has he moved. Zhan Yao stands in the open door, looking at his mouse, wondering if he has ever seen him this still. Carefully, slowly, he approaches to sit in a plastic chair next to the bed, taking the other’s cool hand in his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

On the way here he thought about what he might tell his mouse, about the case, about the progress, but now that he sits here he finds himself not able to speak. Silently, he caresses Bai Yutong’s hand with his fingertips, then his face, then bends down to lean his forehead against the other’s, closing his eyes.

I miss you, mouse. Come back to me.

- - - - -

His ringing phone disturbs the quiet and for a moment he feels disoriented, misplaced, before he clumsily fumbles for it and takes the call without looking at the name.

“Let’s have lunch,” Zhao Jue says without introduction, and Zhan Yao is too stunned to protest. “The diner at the corner, opposite the park. Ten minutes,” he says, and hangs up. Zhan Yao stares at his phone screen for a second, before he scrambles to his feet, presses a kiss to Bai Yutong’s cheek, and heads downstairs.

When he arrives at the diner, Zhao Jue is seated in a booth in a dark corner, a steaming cup in front of him. Zhan Yao slides into the seat opposite him, careful of his injured shoulder. He notices that the other has chosen their seats so that Zhan Yao’s left side faces the room, his blind spot towards the wall.

When the waiter comes to take their order, he mindlessly lists a few things he remembers to have liked, then fiddles with the menu for a while. Zhao Jue gives him a pointed look, but doesn’t comment. When their food arrives, they eat in silence, Zhan Yao trying to savor the taste.

It is only after another cup of tea that Zhao Jue asks, “How is he?”, and Zhan Yao feels his shoulders slump.

“Unchanged,” he answers eventually, not able to fend off the image of his mouse’s lifeless face, and shivers.

“And how are you?,” the other asks, and Zhan Yao blinks at him in confusion. Since it has been apparent that his injuries weren’t as bad as Bai Yutong’s, every and all attention had been on the latter, even Zhan Yao’s own, so it takes him a moment to really parse that question. “I will be fine,” he offers after a while, because it is the truth. The doctors were optimistic that he would be able to use his eye again, his shoulder is healing, as well as all the countless other minor injuries and cuts he has sustained. He will be fine, eventually. It’s not important.

“That’s not what I asked,” Zhao Jue observes, and Zhan Yao freezes, mouth open in an aborted response. “I asked,” the other clarifies with a scrutinizing gaze at Zhan Yao, “how you are. Not how you will be.”

Zhan Yao blinks slowly at him, then closes his mouth. “I..,�� he begins, then pauses. How is he? His head hasn’t stopped hurting since the moment he woke up in the hospital bed, his left arm isn’t usable at the moment, which makes getting dressed in the morning a complicated ordeal. But not being able to see is the worst, he realises, no matter how optimistic the doctors are, no matter how much worse Bai Yutong’s injuries are. He sighs and slumps further into his seat, leaning slightly against the wall. “Not that fantastic,” he admits. “I have had a headache for a week and my arm is pretty much useless. But I’ll live,” he tries to make light of it, when Zhao Jue reaches over and presses his thumb to Zhan Yao’s temple, his index finger on his forehead. Before he can protest, the searing pain dulls to a numb throbbing behind his temple, and he shudders in relief. “How..,” he starts, but Zhao Jue just hums, pulling his hand back.

Before Zhan Yao can respond in any way other than stare at the man opposite him, his phone rings. When he ends the call, Jiang Ling having told him she has news, he finds Zhao Jue has already paid for their meals and waits at the door, silent as always. Hurrying after him, Zhan Yao realises, not for the first time, how little of the other man’s motives he really understands.

Jiang Ling has earned her bonus this time, and beams at Zhan Yao when he tells her that. In fact, her discovery is worth a dozen bonuses. Zhan Yao understands only a third of her enthusiastic explanations, but it’s enough to be deeply impressed by the nerdy woman. She somehow managed to link a delivery of expensive, imported bath oils to an office building in the middle of nowhere, realising nobody would take a bath at their workplace - only certain kinds of workers, Wang Shao helpfully adds, which earns him a slap upside the head from Zhao Fu - and then finding the actual purpose of the building and its owner’s name: Zhang Qi.

Zhan Yao is delighted to finally have a clue, but his eagerness is dampened by Wang Shao’s question. “And what exactly are we going to do now?”

Of all the people in the room, Zhan Yao wouldn’t have expected Zhao Jue to step forward.

“I might have an idea.”

His idea is, even Ma Han has to grudgingly admit, actually quite reasonable. They have to investigate the office building, that much is certain, but the only one to have a chance to stay undetected - and be fine in case they don’t, but that is a detail no one mentions - is in fact Zhao Jue. So, some hours of preparation later, Zhan Yao, Zhao Fu and Zhao Jue are crammed together in an SCI observation van, the older man in a bright orange pest-control uniform.

“Remember,” Zhan Yao begins for yet another time, when the freshly-made exterminator directs a grin at him that makes him uneasy. Nodding, he says seriously, “I don’t know who you are and what the SCI is,” as if this is what they have been talking about for an hour. Horrified, Zhan Yao tries to interject, when Zhao Jue grabs his costume props, opens the door and hops down. With a wink to the other two, he marches off towards the office building.

Zhao Fu groans, hiding his face in his hands. “I really hope this wasn’t a mistake. The boss is going to murder us if this goes wrong.”

Zhan Yao nods silently.

Before they left the SCI, he had taken Zhao Jue aside, determined to get some real answers out of the other, but all he had received was a grin and another question, asked with sparkling eyes and quiet amusement in his voice.

“Do you trust me?”

Zhan Yao hadn’t had it in him to deny it.

When it’s all over, Zhan Yao doesn’t ask how Zhao Jue managed to get past fourteen heavily armed guards, doesn’t want to know, but somehow the other did, and he found the abducted girl. Next to twenty-seven others who have gone missing from the whole country during the last months.

When the storm has calmed, the girls have been brought to the hospital and the guards inside arrested - all of them suspiciously pliant and agreeable, but nobody had asked, and Zhan Yao sure as hell wouldn’t mention it either - Chief Bao holds a press conference, obviously enjoying the spotlight on himself and on his department. Zhan Yao tries to stay in the background. It doesn’t feel right to stand there alone, so he doesn’t at all.

They can’t exactly tell the media that the one having solved the case is a wanted serial killer who recently escaped prison, so Zhan Yao is for once glad for the Chief’s need for recognition. On the way back, Zhao Jue looks at him with a knowing gaze, but doesn’t say anything, and Zhan Yao tries to focus on something else.

With the older man’s help - and probably more than just a bit of coercion from Chief Bao to make sure the SCI were the ones to interrogate them - the culprits arrested in the office building spill their secrets surprisingly easily. They all name Zhang Qi as the mastermind behind the whole operation, giving even more names and addresses that were used to move the girls around, providing so many details that Bai Chi brings in a whole box of new ledgers to write in after the first afternoon. It’s a day later that one of them admits to building a bomb and hiding it in a sofa in an empty apartment, all of this on Zhang Qi’s orders.

After Zhang Qi and her inner circle are arrested, Chief Bao invites all of them to dinner, even Zhao Jue and his nephew, who both actually show up, even if one seems significantly more delighted than the other. Zhan Yao observes in silence, meeting Zhao Jue’s gaze over the animated talks and happy atmosphere at the table. He nods in acknowledgement, and the other smiles slightly.

- - - - -

Bai Yutong wakes a day later, in the late morning, the sun gently caressing his features. The first thing he does is to reach out to Zhan Yao, weaving his hand into the other’s hair and pulling him in. Their foreheads resting against each other, Zhan Yao takes his first deep breath in weeks.

#sci谜案集 #sci mystery #sci #zhan yao #bai yutong #yaoyutong #zhao jue #my writing #angst with a happy ending

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Eight)

Summary: Din, (Y/N) and their passengers are trapped on a frozen planet and must quickly repair the Razor Crest if they have any hope of surviving.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Eight The Ship (Previous Chapter)

Jolting awake, Din pushed himself off the ship’s dashboard and groaned; the last thing he remembered before being knocked unconscious was the ship falling through the ice that he’d landed on. He was still disoriented when he glanced down at his armor and noticed the thin layer of frost coating the beskar. He reached up and flipped several switches but before he could determine just how much damage the ship had sustained, a small whimper behind him made him quickly turn around; the Frog woman was curled up on the floor of the cockpit, violently shivering as her arms wrapped around herself to generate warmth. He knelt down and helped her back into her seat as she began to quickly croak at him and gesture towards the cockpit door. Her eggs, he suddenly remembered, they were in the cargo hold when we crashed…

“I’ll find your eggs, don’t worry,” Din promised her. “Gotta get you some blankets, keep you warm…” He hurried out the cockpit doors and jumped down into the cargo hold; there was a gaping hole in the side of the hull, through which snow and freezing-cold air was blowing, and different wires and cables hung limp from the ceiling. Storage containers were strewn across the whole floor, all covered in frost, and he found himself muttering a quiet “Damn it.”

It was then that he remembered the child and his partner, and he hurriedly opened his sleeping compartment only to see the child’s hammock empty. Fear clenched at his heart as he turned back to the cluttered floor. “Kid? (Y/N)?” The Frog woman’s frantic croaking echoed down and Din called up, “Hang on, I’m looking for your eggs!” He carefully began stepping through the mess and, after hearing a small noise, bent down and threw a tarp to the side to reveal the child, an egg in his hands as he stood before the open container. “No!” He quickly closed the lid and picked up the container of eggs to examine it. It was the second time he’d caught the child eating eggs, and he was worried that the passenger would eventually notice their absences. “I told you not to do that.” The Frog woman spoke out to him again and he answered. “Found them!”

“M-Mando?”

Eyes widening, Din set the container down inside the sleeping compartment and locked it before hurrying over to where the captain’s weak voice had come from. “Dank farrik!”

(Y/N) was at the end of the cargo hold, hidden behind a storage container with her left arm pinned underneath another one, and her lips were nearly blue from the cold. “I tried…I tried moving it, but-”

“It’s okay, alor’ad, I’ve got it.” Careful not to jostle her arm, he lifted the container and set it down behind him, his heart dropping in his chest when he realized that her shoulder was bent at an unnatural angle and that she was shivering uncontrollably. “Osik…I’m gonna help you up now, okay? I need to push that shoulder back into its socket as quick as possible and I’ve gotta get you warm…” He leaned down and wrapped an arm around her waist, helping her stand before walking her over to another storage container. “Just sit here for a second, I’m gonna bring the Frog lady down here…”

Once he helped the Frog woman down the ladder and returned her eggs to her, he handed her a blanket and hurriedly fastened another over the hole in the hull in an attempt to begin warming the space. Then, he fixed (Y/N)’s dislocated shoulder and used the spare bandages from the med pack to bind her arm into a makeshift sling; she stifled her cry of pain behind her free hand and squeezed her eyes shut, but not before Din spotted the tears in her eyes. He knew first-hand how painful that kind of injury could be, so he didn’t judge his partner for what others would perceive as weakness. Once he was finished tending to her wound, he carefully wrapped a blanket around her and went to dig his spare heater out of the wreckage, turning it on and urging his companions to sit near it as he prepared a little dinner for them. (Y/N) quietly accepted her tray of food, her smile polite but her eyes betraying her anger towards him; suppressing a sigh of frustration, he turned away from her to glance at the Frog woman.

“If you hadn’t guessed, we’re in a tight spot; the main power drive’s not responding and the hull has lost its integrity. I suspect the temperature will drop significantly when night falls, and I’ll have a better idea of our prospects at that time.” He lowered himself onto the floor and leaned against the wall, making himself as comfortable as he could given the circumstances. The Frog woman began croaking urgently at him, gesturing to eggs while she did, and Din hopelessly answered, “I’m sorry, lady, I don’t understand Frog. Whatever it is, it can wait until morning.” He looked over at (Y/N), who was picking half-heartedly at her tray of food, and continued. “I recommend you both get some sleep.”

The captain didn’t acknowledge his words but when he crossed his arms and glanced back down, he noticed the child waddle his way over and cuddle against his side beneath his cape. Well, at least there’s one person who’s not angry with me, Din thought dejectedly to himself; (Y/N) was right, he shouldn’t have run from the New Republic rangers, but he’d panicked. He didn’t want to put any of them in danger, but that’s exactly what had happened anyway.

Before he fell asleep, Din watched as (Y/N) quietly set down her food and stood, removing the blanket from around her shoulders and placing it on top of the Frog woman’s eggs before settling down on the floor opposite him and wrapping her uninjured arm around herself.

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

“Wake up, Mandalorian.”

Din quickly jolted awake as the all-too familiar voice rang through the cargo hold, his blaster in his hand before he could fully register what he was looking at. Zero, the droid pilot from the prison breakout job, was still in pieces and secured to the wall of the ship, but a wire was now attached to its head and its opposite end was being held by the Frog woman; when she croaked again, Zero’s voice emitted from the head. “This cannot wait until morning. Do not be alarmed, I bypassed the droid’s security protocols and accessed its vocabulator.”

As (Y/N) and the child began to stir, Din holstered his blaster with more force than necessary. “What the hell are you doing? That droid is a killer.”

“These eggs are the last brood of my life cycle.” The Frog woman explained, resting a hand on her egg container sitting beside her. “My husband has risked his life to carve out an existence for us on the only planet that is hospitable to our species. We fought too hard and suffered too much to resign ourselves to the extinction of our family line. I must demand that you hold true to the deal that you agreed to.”

“Look, lady, the deal is off,” He growled in frustration, gesturing at the wreckage around them. “We’re lucky if we get off this frozen tomb with our lives!”

The Frog woman was unperturbed. “I thought honoring one’s word was a part of the Mandalorian code. I guess those are just stories for children.”

Across from him, (Y/N) visibly flinched at her words and the child looked up at him with near-pleading eyes; Din finally capitulated, easing the child off his lap before clambering to his feet, grabbing his toolkit and storming outside to assess the ship’s damages. The ship was in a bad shape but as he continued to examine it, he determined that it could thankfully still fly, albeit with a fair amount of patches and repairs. He was busy rewiring some of the broken cables near the engine when (Y/N) slowly approached him, a look of apprehension on her face as she knelt on the snow beside him.

“It’s, um…it looks a lot worse than it is. If the repairs go well, we can be out of here as soon as tomorrow.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Good, good. I…well, on the off-chance that we don’t, I just…I wanted to apologize for using your Creed against you when we first met.” His brow rose in surprise at her words; out of all the things he’d been expecting her to say, that certainly hadn’t been one of them. “It wasn’t fair of me to throw it in your face to get what I wanted, and I’m sorry.”

Din was at a loss for words; almost from the moment he swore the Creed, people had ridiculed his way of life and would often try using it against him to gain an upper hand on him. It had bothered him at first but he’d eventually grown used to the jabs and insults, learning to ignore or shrug them off. (Y/N) was the first person he’d ever met who bothered to apologize to him for her words.

Seeing her begin to rise, he shook himself out of his astonishment and grabbed her wrist to halt her; she looked at him with widened eyes, and he cleared his throat before speaking. “Thank you. I’m sorry as well. I shouldn’t have run from those rangers, and I apologize for not listening to your warnings.” His partner’s usual cheery smile brightened her face at his words and Din blushed beneath his helmet, quickly turning back towards the ship and gesturing at the hole in the hull. “You should get some rest, alor’ad. Your shoulder-”

“Feels perfectly fine, Mando. I can still help you with…” She trailed off, looking past him and furrowing her brow in confusion. “I think the little guy’s trying to tell us something.”

Looking in the same direction she was, Din’s eyes fell on the child, who was babbling and pointing at something on the other side of the ship. With a sigh of exasperation, he called over to him. “How about you come over here and give us a hand? Make yourself useful.” Instead of waddling over to them, the child walked behind the ship and out of sight. “Hey, kid!” He exchanged a look with (Y/N) and they both got to their feet, hurrying off after him. “I said, hey! Where are you going?”

“Come back here, little guy!” (Y/N) added; they turned the corner and made their way over to where the child had stopped.

Din knelt down beside him, instantly noticing the fresh footsteps in the snow. “When did she go?” According to his helmet’s thermal scan, it hadn’t been that long. With a small sigh, he picked up the child and stood. “It’s not safe for her to be out there alone. C’mon, let’s go.”

They slowly made their way through the icy caverns, careful not to make too much noise as they followed the Frog woman’s footsteps. Beside him, (Y/N) had drawn her blaster and was holding it in her good hand while Din kept a tight hold on the curious child in the crook of his arm. They turned a corner and found themselves standing within a massive cave; icicles the size of mudhorns hung from the ceiling and strange-looking objects rested all along the snow.

The familiar sounds of croaking caught Din’s attention and he looked over to see the Frog woman sitting in a glowing hot spring, with all her eggs floating at the top of the steaming water. “There you are,” He exhaled in relief, hurrying over to the hot spring with (Y/N) close behind him. “You can’t leave the ship, it’s not safe out here.” He set the child down at the edge of the water and knelt. “Let’s gather these up…”

Their passenger made a sound of protest as he began carefully putting her eggs back in her container; while he worked, he noticed (Y/N) sit down by the edge of the spring and give the Frog woman a sympathetic smile. “I know that it’s cold, but night’s coming fast and we can’t protect you out here; in the morning, Mando and I are gonna start working on repairs and we’ll be off this planet in no time. When we get back to the ship, I’ll look through my clothes for anything that’ll keep you and your eggs warm, okay?”

Because of the stunt she’d pulled earlier with the decapitated droid, Din knew that the Frog woman had understood the captain’s soothing words and with a nod of her head, she began helping him gather up the floating eggs. He glanced over at (Y/N) and couldn’t help but take note of how the faint glow from the hot spring illuminated her features; without thinking, he blurted out, “You’re good at that. Talking to people, I mean, making them feel comfortable. I just usually tend to scare them off and-No! No.” Din scolded the child, who’d taken advantage of his distraction and tried reaching for an egg. The child, looking a little more than miffed, walked away and he continued placing eggs into the container.

“Well, you haven’t managed to scare me off.” (Y/N) remarked, the corner of her mouth curving into a teasing smile. “You must be slipping, Mando; I thought that bounty hunters, even former ones, were supposed to terrify everybody they come across.”

Just as Din was about to indulge in their usual playful banter, the child’s cry echoed throughout the cave and his head whipped around in alarm; the child was running as fast as he could towards them, fear evident in his large eyes, and it didn’t take long for Din to realize why. The strange-looking objects that were strewn across the snow were beginning to shudder and hatch, and pale spiders of differing sizes began to emerge.

Quickly standing, he hurried over to where the child was and picked him up before backing away from the hatching creatures. His eyes widened in panic as more and more eggs began to break open, covering the floor of the cave with an ever-growing crowd of spiders. While he closed the lid of the egg container and slung it over his shoulder, the Frog woman hastily threw on her clothes and (Y/N) ushered her out of the hot spring; an echoing growl made the three of them look up and Din’s jaw dropped when an enormous spider, easily the size of his ship, crawled out of a deeper part of the cave.

“Go, go, go! Back to the ship!”

All three of them sprinted out of the cave and into the maze of icy tunnels, closely pursued by the swarm of spiders. While they ran, (Y/N) aimed her blaster and began shooting at the spiders behind them and Din, seeing spiders beginning to appear in front of them, drew his blaster and fired. A tunnel beside them was quickly blocked off when the massive spider shot a web at its entrance, so they quickly hurried down another; the Frog woman leapt past both Din and (Y/N), who were forced to holster their blasters so they could run faster from the advancing spiders. Although he couldn’t see it, he could hear the largest spider pursuing them from above, the impact of its legs shaking the frozen ceiling of the tunnel. A sharp cracking noise above alerted him to danger and his free hand shot out to haul the Frog woman back just as the spider’s long leg broke through the ceiling and was pulled up.

“Take her and get back to the ship, I’ll buy you some time!” Din yelled to (Y/N) as they ran.

The captain frantically shook her head. “No, I’m not leaving you behind!”

Thinking fast, Din pulled out three bombs and threw two of them on either side of the tunnel, then threw the third at the ceiling where the largest spider was. The bombs exploded, causing the tunnel to cave in on itself and he turned to watch the creature’s lifeless body crash to the ground before running after (Y/N) and the Frog woman. His partner had drawn her blaster again and was shooting at anything that moved; Din quickly did the same but once it became apparent that there were too many spiders to shoot and kill, he holstered his blaster and pushed (Y/N) and the Frog woman behind him before igniting the flamethrower on his vambrace.

White-hot flames shot out towards the swarm of spiders and instantly burned them to a crisp, but as the three of them continued to run, even more of the creatures began pursuing them. The broken-down ship finally came into view as he and (Y/N) continued firing their blasters at the spiders, and Din silently prayed that they’d be able to get the ship into the air in time to escape the swarm.

“Cover me!��

(Y/N) continued shooting spider after spider while Din turned and handed both the child and the egg container over to the Frog woman; he’d just ushered their passenger into the ship when the captain let out a cry of alarm, and he turned to see that her good arm had been webbed to the side of the ship. A smaller spider leapt towards them and on instinct, Din caught it in his fist and crushed it before throwing it aside; seeing the spiders inching closer to them, he helped (Y/N) wrench her arm free before pushing her into the ship and following after her. He continued blasting at the spiders as they followed them into the ship, scrambling up the ladder and shooting at the creatures as they emerged from the hole.

Seeing that his efforts were useless, Din stepped into the cockpit and tried closing its doors but the influx of spiders kept them from closing all the way. Desperate, he began shooting at the spiders through the crack in the door and (Y/N) quickly did the same, firing at the spiders that were lower down. The child’s fearful cry rang out over the sounds of their blasters firing and Din looked over just in time to see the Frog woman shoot at several small spiders that had been attacking him with a small blaster; their gazes met and he hurriedly nodded in thanks before turning and using his flamethrower to take care of the rest of the creatures. The door finally closed, but the danger hadn’t yet passed; the spiders had begun crawling over the outside of the ship.

“Strap yourselves in!” Din dropped down into the pilot’s seat, pressing buttons and flipping several switches; his hands flew over the various controls as he prepared the ship for take-off, and they were soon joined by (Y/N)’s good hand. They shared a brief glance before resuming their work, and he muttered under his breath to her, “This better work.”

“From your mouth to the Maker’s ears,” The captain replied, reaching over him to press a final button and letting out a sigh of relief as the ship shuddered to life. “We’re good to go!”

“I’ve got limited visibility, so it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.” He called out as they both pulled on the ship’s main lever; after a long moment, the engines began firing and the ship began to slowly rise. It continued to rise and as spiders began dropping off of it, (Y/N) glanced over at him with a hopeful grin that he couldn’t help but match underneath his helmet.

Their happiness was, predictably, short-lived. Something large and heavy landed on the top of the ship, slamming it back down into the ground; the force of the crash sent (Y/N) toppling onto his lap and while she struggled to right herself, Din watched through the ship’s viewport as the enormous spider he’d assumed had died prepared to pierce its leg into the cockpit. Quick as a flash, he wrapped his arms around his partner and pulled her closer to him just as its leg slammed into the space where her head had just been. Another leg slammed into the cockpit before being pulled out; all four of them watched in dread as the massive creature peered at them through the viewport. Somewhere behind him, the child whimpered in fear and he felt (Y/N) tense in his lap as the spider suddenly latched its mouth onto the viewport above them.

Its attack was stopped by an onslaught of blaster bolts and moments later, part of the spider’s carcass slid off the front of the ship. The sounds of blasters firing continued, illuminating the cockpit with red-tinted flashes; with her eyes widened in shock, (Y/N) turned to him and shakily asked, “Who the hell could that be?”

“I don’t know, but let’s find out.” He loosened his hold on the captain and let her stand before getting up; he made sure that the Frog woman and the child were unharmed before drawing his blaster and cautiously making his way down into the cargo hold. The entire space was covered in sticky spider webs and spider carcasses, and he was quick to shoot at one that was still crawling; with a brief glance at (Y/N), the two of them raised their blasters and slowly emerged from the ship to see their saviors.

“Son of a mud-scuffer, you’ve gotta be kidding me…” Din breathed out, watching as the two New Republic rangers sat atop their X-Wings and expertly shot down spider after spider that was still on the ship.

They soon stopped and watched as the two of them stepped forward, and the man on the right called out, “We ran the tabs on the Razor Crest. You have an arrest warrant for the abduction of Prisoner X-Six-Nine-Eleven.” Din kept his eyes on the two rangers but he could sense that (Y/N) was shooting him a look. “However, onboard security records show that you apprehended three priority culprits from the Wanted Register. Security records also show that you put your own life in harm’s way to protect that of Lieutenant Davan from the New Republic Correctional Corps. Is that true?”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Technically, you should be, but these are trying times.” The man glanced over at (Y/N), who had already holstered her blaster. “We also ran the credentials that you gave us, Captain (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of the Alliance Starfleet. According to your service record, you saved the lives of thousands of civilians during your years of service to the Rebellion; the New Republic owes you a great debt of gratitude.”

Clearing her throat, (Y/N) replied, “Thank you, Ranger.”

“Let’s say I forgo the bounties on those three criminals…” Din interjected, realizing that his partner was uncomfortable talking about her service record. “Can you two help me fuse my hull so I can get off this frozen rock?”

“Let’s say you fix that transponder, and we don’t vaporize that antique the next time we patrol the Rim?”

Fair enough, Din thought to himself as they watched the two X-Wings take off. They made their way back into the ship, where the Frog woman and the child were waiting for them. “All right, we’re gonna repair the cockpit enough for us to limp to Trask. There’s nothing I can do about the main hull’s integrity, so we’re gonna have to get cozy in the cockpit.” His words brought back the memory of (Y/N) sitting in his lap and he was thankful that his helmet could mask his growing blush. “It’s the only thing I can pressurize. If you need to use the privy, do it now. It’s gonna be a long ride.”

With (Y/N)’s aid, the repairs were quickly completed and he said another silent prayer as he sat down in the pilot’s seat; the Frog woman was already strapped into her seat, her canister of eggs resting in her lap. (Y/N) dropped down into her own seat with an exhausted sigh and rested her feet on her storage container; since they couldn’t fix the main hull’s integrity, she insisted on moving her things into the cockpit to keep them safe.

“Okay, the repairs are all done,” Din informed the Frog woman, holding the child in his lap as he pressed the final buttons. “Let’s see if we can get this thing going once and for all.” He slowly pulled on the ship’s main lever and the ship shook itself to life; they continued to rise and in no time, they were leaving the frozen planet’s upper atmosphere. He breathed out a sigh of relief before turning to look at (Y/N). “Wake me up if someone shoots us, or if that door gets sucked off its rails.”

(Y/N) bit back a smile at his bad joke, but the sounds of the Frog woman’s concerned croak made the captain quickly look over at her and shake her head. “It’s okay, ma’am, that’s not gonna happen…”

“I’m kidding. If that happened we’d all be dead,” He continued, watching in amusement as the captain threw him an exasperated look and continued to reassure their passenger. “Sweet dreams.”

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A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading!

Mando'a Translations: Alor'ad-Captain Osik-Shit

Chapter Nine

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty @sinon36 @seninjakitey @thatonedindjarinfan @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mostclevermiss @momc95 @welcometothepedroverse @sarahjkl82-blog @zukoyonce @itsnottilly

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #din x reader #mando x reader #grogu #the child #baby yoda #frog lady

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