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staytinyville · 1 year ago

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OUTLAW (1)

ATEEZ ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU/ Wild West (it’s giving Red Dead Redemption)

New Fanfic for ATEEZ boys. I got no clue yet if it’s gonna be mature quite possibly but we get there when we get there. For now, I’ll be giving warning here if there is a chance of those things. Please enjoy!

You worked in your family's Inn, attending to the patrons who came and went. The Illusion Inn was built by your grandfather when he had left his hometown in search of work. This was back when the town was barely putting in the cobblestone roads and better infrastructures. When the revolution started hitting closer, the Inn was the first one to house all the workers who were coming to better the city.

Now though, it wasn’t often that people would stay longer than a day or two, they were only traders moving along to sell their things. You had the select few who had some jobs to do in the area and stayed for longer, but most often than not the hotel always had at least one room open.

It made working there a lot easier for you seeing as you had three other siblings ranging in age from 20 to 6. The eldest were all placed to work around in some capacity which made the load that much easier to handle. Since being the oldest you were told to manage the front desk as well as the bar while your father was busy handing out drinks to the men who were often seen coming in just for alcohol.

Being a waitress for the saloon part of the hotel meant you got to meet people of all kinds of class. As well as stories from different parts of the country. Each patron came in with outlandish stories about their journey by horse to Cromer or the gangs they met along the way.

It was the time in history where so many people found it easier to steal and kill for things rather than do work themselves. Everyone was struggling to some extent. No one was safe from poverty when it came to building a society that was barely starting.

“I think the outlaw is moving this way,” Some man spoke to your father behind the bar counter. “I heard he shot up a bar in Sharpstown. You better be careful with your family.”

Your father met your eyes as you placed a tray full of empty glasses on the bar. You carried on with your work though, moving to clean the cups you had just cleaned up.

It was hard to miss the large wanted poster that was plastered nearly on every building in town. The bold Dead or Alive really caught everyone's attention. While it wasn’t uncommon to find a wanted poster of someone, it was rare to have the government want them dead or alive. You must have done something extreme to reach that point.

“Don’t worry about me, John.” Your father told the man politely. “I’ve seen plenty of outlaws come and go here. You just have to know what to serve them.”

You pursed your lips to keep from giggling at your father. You moved around him to get some empty bottles of liquor before going back to pick up more dirty dishes. It was a rather tame day due to being the middle of the week, so the saloon of the Inn wasn’t really packed. It was easy to forget about the outlaw and his travels.

It was around the time the saloon closed for the night and your younger siblings had all gone to bed that things seemed to change within the air. Your mother was moving things around inside preparing to lock the door for the night, when the sound of horses caught both of your attention.

You saw your mother pause at the door, moving the stopper to hold it open herself. She spoke some words to someone outside before moving to allow them room to enter. You were quick to put the cash from the day into a box, locking it to keep the two men from seeing just how much you actually had.

There were two of them, their styled boots hitting the wood flooring with a loud stomp. When they had walked through the threshold, they immediately glanced around the area, assessing the place.

You weren’t one to shy away from your opinion on people. As a child you would oftentimes get in trouble because you would openly make faces at people. As you grew older and started working with the patrons of the inn you learned how to be more subtle about it. So while these men assessed the inn you took the moment to assess them.

The tallest one walked ahead of the other, seemingly messing with the bands around his wrists. He only took a glance around the lobby before heading in your direction with purpose. He had a slim face with high cheekbones. The clothes he wore were meant to withstand the weather. He was decked out in leather and cowboy boots.

The other however walked with his shoulders squared, eyes moving about in search of something he might not like. Unlike the tall man, this one had a more stern expression on his face, he looked mature. He wore just about the same clothing as the other, however his pants seemed to stretch over thighs a bit tighter.

It was especially hard to miss the police badges on their chest as you eyed them up. When they reached you, you had to look up as the man spoke to you first.

“We would like a room.” He told you.

The Inn was technically closed for the night so you couldn’t give them a room until the morning. You glanced at your mother first, the woman giving you a nod.

“Just one?” You asked, glancing behind him to his partner.

“Just one. With two beds if possible.” He didn’t dare to move his eyes from you as you stared him down.

He didn’t speak more on the subject, but you knew he was coming up with conclusions on his own about the place he had just entered. It left a bubbling feeling in the pit of your stomach to think this person would assume you or your family would bring harm to anyone. Maybe you would if threatened.

“(Y/N).” Your mother cleared her throat. “Please give these kind officers the room in the back.”

“Of course.” You told her, moving along to get the key you needed.

“Follow me.” You told them, not waiting to see if they had listened. You could hear their boots clicking on the floor so you knew they had.

The room was on the first floor towards the back of the Inn. With the building stationed on closer to the outer limits of the town, the view from the windows was of the meadows and neighborhoods. Your grandfather had chosen the area to make it easier for travelers who came by horse or foot to find rest faster. Your home wasn’t that far, which meant oftentimes you all would walk back for a rest.

“I am the attendant for the night.” You told them in a rehearsed voice. “Should you need anything, I will be in the front.”

With that you immediately left the room and back towards the front with a shiver going down your spine. They weren’t dangerous men from what you could feel, but they still left you with an uneasy feeling.

“I’m going to head home now.” Your mother told you. “Be careful. You know where the gun is.”

It wasn’t the first time it was your turn to take over the night shift. When your parents deemed you old enough to attend to the hotel alone, they took rest and shifted the load. There were other employees as well but they still put you down as someone to watch over the inn. Besides, compared to others they trusted you a bit more.

It was midnight when you had finished going over the inventory and had decided to go to sleep in the backroom for the night shift worker. Before taking a nap though, you made your rounds around the inn to make sure there was nothing out of the ordinary.

As you passed the two police officers bedroom, there was some shuffling heard but not enough to cause suspicion. Maybe they had still been awake. You shrugged your shoulders and moved along to take your rest.

That was short lived when around 3 in the morning there was a lot of noise going on outside of the window. There was a good amount of cursing and arguments of trying to keep others quiet as whoever the group was seemed to move along the hotel's side.

You kept the light off, hoping the street lamps would illuminate the aggressors. All you could make out were silhouettes cluttered at the end of the hotel. You tried to quietly open the window to peak your head out to get a better view.

The building stretched for a good amount so the group hadn’t caught sight of you peeking in at them. You quickly glared when you noticed them huddled at the window that was meant for the last bedroom of the floor. It was the room where the officers were staying.

With outlaws in mind, you were quick to put on your boots and a cardigan to cover up your pajamas. You rushed to the front lobby, doing a double take on the rifle leaning against the wall by the door. You made haste to grab it before rushing out of the lobby and into the foggy night.

When you turned the corner, you raised the gun aiming it towards whoever you could. Before you could shoot to alert others, the last person seemed to have made their way into the window ungracefully. You cursed to yourself quickly rushing to see where they had entered.

“Hey!” You screamed, rushing forward with the gun aimed right into the bedroom. Your eyes went wide as the barrel pushed into the stomach of the tall officer from earlier in the day.

His arms were stretched above his head as he was about to shut the window. His eyes went wide as well when he realized someone was looking into the room. He moved to the side in a panic, eyes searching for his leader on what to do.

As he moved out of the way, you noticed there were more men in the room than you cared to admit. You were more worried about how they all fit into the small space if anything. While your eyes scanned over all of them, you counted 6 new people in total. However the ones that seemed to stop you from scolding them were the two who seemed to be bleeding profusely.

There was one on a bed, more than likely staining the sheets that made you internally cringe at having to buy new ones. Another was holding onto his shoulder as he seemed to sit across from the one sprawled out on the mattress.

Just as your wide eyes swept back over the other men, your eyes caught the blue haired man who was looking at you with squinted eyes.

“Grab her.”

Series Masterlist

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keesdarlin · 10 months ago

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☆// striking midnight (MDNI, 18+)

info! cayde-6 / fluff + gender neutral reader

cw! n/a

notes! just a silly little idea i had. also new year's eve has been a little bit rough, so i'm writing this to cope a little bit lol. enjoy :]

in all honesty, what you were doing probably seemed pretty sketchy to someone who was uninformed. or maybe even someone who knew what you were doing. to the unsuspecting eye, it probably looked like-

“are you rigging a bomb? what are you doing, guardian?” your ghost asked, hovering anxiously over your shoulder.

“no, i’m not rigging a bomb,” you retorted, moving around some wires attached to your little contraption. it was colorful and roughly the size of a backpack, mostly metal cylinders and colorful tubing with wires attached. you sighed to yourself, still fiddling with it. “...they’re fireworks.”

“ah. a colorful bomb,” your ghost replied, an air of disappointment in their tone.

“no, no. it’s a light show. we’re gonna send these off to celebrate the new year,” you explained, not looking up as you screwed in a loose part.

“but why do we need to celebrate again? it’s just another completed revolution of the earth around the sun. there’s been a ton of these; it’s nothing new.”

you sighed. you had set up a display leaning against a trash can to the left side of the little alley you’d set up shop in, your headphones connected wirelessly. on the screen played a sort of podcast – two humans sitting together at a table, reflecting on the year with music playing in the background. the viewer count in one corner of the screen read a measly 24, not that you really minded. a countdown to midnight sat in the other corner. the hosts wore no armor, just civilian clothes. you yourself wore minimal armor. probably not the smartest decision considering that you were currently working with explosives, but you wanted to honor the holiday. not quite in your civvies, but not in any kind of battle suit either.

your screen glitched where it leaned against the trash can, the hosts’ voices becoming momentarily distorted. you leaned over, hitting the side a few times. the screen corrected itself. old tech. “because of what it means,” you began, focusing back on the work at hand. “a new year is a fresh start, a clean slate. holds new opportunities. think the light of a new day and all that shit. symbolism.” a beat passed as you rearranged some wires, and then, “i learned that we used to celebrate it before the going got tough. guess i got a little bit sentimental.”

your ghost hummed somewhere behind you, their shell rotating curiously. “well, i think that’s quite nice, guardian.”

“thank you,” you mumbled appreciatively, distracted with your work.

a thud sounded behind you, but you didn’t think much of it. if it turned out to be a threat, you had confidence in yourself to handle it. do you stayed the course, twisting and rearranging and soldering quietly as you hummed along to the music on your livestream. at least it’s nice out. all chilly and calm, just like winter should be. not a peep. judging from your ghost’s silence, they didn’t detect a threat either.

“whatcha got there?” a robotic voice asked from behind you.

you looked over your shoulder to find none other than cayde-6 leaning against the wall of the alley, watching you work. one of his hands lingered near his hand cannon, the other draped across his torso, blue eyes glowing in the dim light.

“a bomb,” your ghost answered easily, shell spinning.

“not a bomb,” you rushed to assure the hunter vanguard. “and not funny,” you directed at your ghost before turning back to the exo. “they’re fireworks.”

“ah,” cayde nodded. “pretty bombs.”

“they’re not bombs,” you corrected, standing to face him. “they shoot up in the air, they’re not gonna hurt anyone.”

“oh, relax. i’m not here to snitch on you or anything like that,” he said nonchalantly.

you looked at him again, gazing pointedly at the hand that lingered near the gun resting in his holster. “mhm,” you said, tone disbelieving.

cayde coughed awkwardly, bringing that arm up to cross the other over his chest. “say, do i know you from somewhere?”

you sized him up, somewhat offended. “i work at the tower. i’m a weapons expert.” i’ve actually worked on the ace of spades, you thought, but left it unsaid.

“of course i knew that,” he assured, nodding. sundance thrummed by his ear, observing.

you nodded too, half-heartedly affirming him.

“so what’s with the bombs?”

“am i the only one that celebrates new year’s eve around here?” you asked lightly, tone bordering on a laugh.

cayde whistled. “from what i’ve heard, yes.”

you frowned to yourself, shoulders slumping. “that is so disappointing.”

“i suppose so,” he agreed. “how are you planning on celebrating?”

you pointed to the podcast playing on your monitor. “once that timer hits midnight, i’m gonna get off the fireworks. probably get a bite to eat after.”

“sounds… interesting.”

“care to join?” you offered, giving him a lopsided grin.

cayde seemed to think on it a moment and then shrugged. “i mean, why not? as long as no one gets hurt, of course.”

“great!” you smiled, turning back to your machine. you quickly went back to soldering and tweaking various parts of it.

cayde came up, crouched down next to you. “so how long do we have until it’s time to set this sucker off?”

you spared a glance to your screen, checking the countdown timer. “a couple minutes.”

“a couple minutes? and you’re still working on it?!”

you waved him off. “calm down, i know what i’m doing,” you muttered.

“you’re sure?” cayde checked.

you turned to him, eyes narrowed. “if you don’t trust it, leave.” when he didn’t, you turned back to your work. a few more sparks flew before you finally stood up, setting your hands on your hips. “there.”

cayde hummed, standing up beside you. “okay, great! now what?”

you gestured to the screen. the timer in the corner stood at only 11 seconds. the both of you watched as midnight grew closer. “5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

the timer hit zero and you pushed a button on the contraption with your foot, stepping back. thankfully cayde followed suit because, a moment later, a barrage of fireworks went up in the air. both of you watched as they exploded in a colorful, booming display of sparks. “wow,” he whispered breathily.

grinning, you turned your gaze to him, nudged him with your elbow. “happy new year.”

although it seemed a little hesitant, cayde smiled back, eyes glowing a little brighter. “happy new year.”

“now…” you trailed off, grabbing your display screen and dropping it into your bag. another troop of fireworks went up and your grin seemed to gleam a little brighter around the edges. “we should probably run before we get in trouble.”

cayde blinked at you. “what?”

you laughed, staring at him a moment before taking off down the alley. “we should go! you think i got permission from this?”

and then he startled into the realization. you jerk. he broke into a sprint after you, watching the fireworks over his shoulder as he went. “i guess i assumed!”

“no way!” you called, mischief clear in your voice.

he shook his head, following you around a corner. “you owe me ramen for this, kid!”

#cayde 6 x reader #cayde-6 x reader #destiny x reader #destiny 2 x reader #i'm a little bit obsessed w cayde atmo please excuse me lmao #like in my brain he's like the destiny equivalent of ryan reynolds idk #cayde 6 fluff #cayde-6 fluff

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just-a-sleepy-idiot · 5 months ago

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Herbert West Drabble: Being stuck at a Busstation with him while it rains

I watched the movie for the first time and now I already have three Wips for him I‘m working on

Content/Warnings: Gender neutral Reader

You were seated under the roof of an old, wooden Busstation and watched the trees bend and sway to the strong winds that whipped through the empty street. The humid summer air had suddenly been disrupted by a burst of rain that was still relentlessly pouring down on the small shelter that was this bus station. Thankfully you were already close when it started, you only got a little wet.

It would take a while for your bus to arrive, so you just quietly listened onto the drumming and tinkling noise. At some point though, you spotted a man swiftly walking towards the Busstation, sheltering his bag under his suit jacket rather than using it to cover himself. That was why he was already pretty soaked when he made it under the roof.

He had black, short hair, glasses and wore a shirt and tie combo that was now fully sticking to his body. You smiled at him with some sympathy, he nodded at you and took a under the bench as well.

You put your bag on your lap and rustled around to find something, shortly after you handed him a handkerchief. „For your glasses.“ You imagined it was pretty hard to see with rain stained, fogged up glasses. „Ah“ he took it and took his glasses off to clean them, revealing dark, very dark eyes beneath that briefly met yours before polishing his glasses. „Thank you.“ He muttered, frowning down at the specters with a concentrated look in his face.

„You must really like your work if you are trying to protect your bag from the rain instead of yourself.“ You joked lightly, putting your own bag to the side again. Herbert looked up, „Like..?“ he paused, „well, you could say so. But most would rather call it Obsession.“ He huffed and put his glasses back on. He handed you the handkerchief back, the way your fingers closed around the fabric mirrored his own, you were looking at him though. „Is it Obsession or Possession?“

Herbert looked up at that, letting go of the handkerchief and now it was you who didn’t look as you were putting it away. It struck him, the phrasing, yet you just lightly smiled like it was nothing.

„Both, probably.“ He said. He liked to think that he was in control of it all, that he was the constructive agent of a scientific revolution. Exceeding not only research but pre-existing beliefs about death itself in the world. But then again there was failure he hated to acknowledge, like the Death of Dr. Gruber. The state he slipped into when he needed a shot. So both, probably.

„What about you?“ He turned the question back at you. He didn’t really care to hear about other peoples lives, he was more occupied to beat Death than to get to know the living. But the question, that weirdly precise phrase, made him a bit curious about your answer.

„I think I may be too idealistic to enjoy the work I‘m doing now, maybe my expectations are too romanticized. I want to do more than all of what is within reach of me right now. But I don’t really have a choice.“ You laughed.

Strangely enough he understood, in a way. Always feeling like there was more to be done, more to archive only to be halted by the somber limitations of his environment. He responded with a hum.

You shivered, wrapping your arms around your body in an attempt to combat the sneaking cold. A strand of hair fell in front of your eyes, but you kept looking out into the rain. Observing it. And Herbert looked at you, and the way there was something so attentive and imaginative in the way you were watching Nature bend and wrestle with the wind and rain. He looked at things the same way, but with different intentions. Everything had a reason, a purpose, and he was determined to put the pieces of his environment together into something he could make sense of or use.

And he saw purpose in you, somehow. And he ached to make sense of it, to grasp how something about you resonated with the Drive that led him to do all of these things. You were very different from him, but your perception seemed to overlap with his in some places.

You heard faint rustling, and looked up in surprise when you saw him gently putting his jacket around your shoulders, careful not to come too close. Herbert held your gaze. You sighed without noise, feeling that it slightly helped with the cold.

„Maybe you can do more.“ He pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to you, „My name is Herbert West. Would you like to be my Assistant?“

- - -

I hope you liked it even though this was really short! Please comment to let me know <3

#gender neutral reader #herbert west #herbert west x reader #re animator #re-animator #reanimator 1985 #reanimator x reader

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sheep-from-rad · 2 years ago

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Stay with me, Sway with me ♡ (SAGAU) Note: This song, I love this so much. This is a request by @mehhiah, sorry it took me so long to tackle this one. Also please, if you have requests put it in the ask box so I can easily see it (also priv messages scares me sorry). Anyway, I’m absolutely involved with this song, I hope you guys enjoy it! LASTLY, MY REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY CLOSED. Warnings: Semi-ooc (?), Prince Kaeya theory (I really love that one so I added it), bullet type, semi-yandere-ish [Masterlist 1] , [Masterlist 2]

Ever since the traveler breaks the wall that separates their lives from the dark reality about them being trapped in a game, music together with other factors has been a part of everyone’s lives. It’s not uncommon for foreign sounding music to be played everywhere, even in churches. Traveler songs being played together with new ones, old ones getting mixed up and rewritten to fit the new ones. While aware, sometimes you just forget that they are indeed alive and can interact with you.

You held the broom in your hands, pressing it close to your chest imagining a microphone, the ones that you can see at concerts and live bars. You put on your headphones, eyes fixated on the task of cleaning your room before the holiday ends. “When Marimba rhythm starts to play…”

Diluc pretends like he’s not paying attention to the song that you are currently singing. It’s not the same as the songs that he is used to hearing both from the locals and from the Bard god. It has a sensual tone on it and it bears an air of refinery that reminds him of the fallen aristocrats Mondstadts used to have. He doesn’t care about crowns and wealth but being named as an uncrowned king, he can’t help but imagine the two of us dancing in such a song. In, in his arms at the after hours of the tavern to the early hours of dawn. Maybe he’ll steal a kiss or two, that if you let him to.

Kaeya was having a late night drink when he heard the song that you are singing. It reminds him of that time he and Rosaria got so drunk they decided to climb Albedo’s laboratory but ended up watching Eula dance in the frozen waters (she chased them afterwards and chased them at work). Nobles sure love their fancy dances and he was not safe from Crepus’s dancing lessons as well. He can imagine the two of you dancing in the empty, semi-dim ballroom. Just the two of you, with the rich robes on your body and crown on his head. If he can’t run from his fate, he might just go embrace it if it means embracing you as his own.

Venti writes a song while he listens to you sing. He is so used to the songs of praise or song of tales but a song that tells about desire is something that is new to his ear. Serenades to exist in Teyvat but they don’t go as far as to tell the most intimate desires. They only go on the surface and barely scratch the realm of what love is supposed to feel. Tomorrow comes the musical revolution and for sure everyone who hears the song of the night will make something of the same liking. He hopes that before you descend, he will be able to write the best song that describes his whole heart.

Ayato finds himself a little flustered by the song. Inazuma just opened again a long time ago and the only references that he has on such subjects are those written by the locals and tales of his workers. It is safe to say that Inazuma is still in the age of conservatism even though it is now slowly advancing to be able to walk at the same pace as the other nations. He can’t help but stand up and away from his work, thinking about the lyrics of the song over and over. Bards sing about their feelings and poets make poems about the things that entices their feelings, does it mean you want someone to hold you close and bend you on the dancefloor? If so, he wants to be the one to do it.

Alhaitham was taking notes. Dances are not uncommon in Sumeru but it is also not something practiced freely until the traitorous sages fell from their thrones. Dances and arts in general are still in their toddler days and he is glad that they get references from other nations. He notes the song being sensual, a type of song that only sang on weddings or intimate dates. The type of dance that he wants to share with you. To pull you by the hand and cradle your head possessively while he glare at everyone who wants to get close. It’s not like he’s gonna let someone get close to you. Not the traveler, not the sages, and definitely not Kaveh. That or, maybe he’ll let Kaveh join in

Taglist! @tinandabin | @chihawari |@eccedentesiast-sapphic @jaxielous |@uchihaeirin |@zuri-feather

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sydsaint · 8 months ago

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Hey Babe, I was wondering if you wrote for Darby Allin? If so could you possibly write a little fic for him. No pressure, Love you♥

My emo lover <3

Summary: The reader gears up for Revolution and Sting's retirement match. Helping her father and Darby wherever she can.

"Darbs, have you seen my dad today?" You question your boyfriend while digging around for his face paint in your bag.

"I haven't seen him since the airport, no." Darby replies. "Why? What's up?" He tilts his head at you curiously.

You shrug and finally find what you're looking for. "I was just curious." You assure him. "It's going to be weird no having him around every week."

"I think we'll be okay." Darby chuckles. "Plus he's still working backstage once in a while isn't he? So he won't be completely gone." He reminds you.

"That's true." You nod. "Alright, sit down. What kind of design do you want tonight?" You ask him while shaking a face paint bottle in your hand.

Darby shrugs and sits down in a chair next to where you're standing. He pulls his shirt over his head and settles into his seat.

"You can pick." Darby decides after a moment of thought. "You haven't made me look bad yet." He grins at you.

You giggle and shake your head. "I think it'd be pretty hard to make you look bad, pretty boy."

"Pretty boy?" Darby replies pointedly. "Hey! I'm hardcore!" He protests.

"You can be hardcore and look like a pretty boy at the same time." You laugh and cup his cheek with your free hand. "Now hold still please."

Darby obeys and stops talking for the moment. You start smearing face paint all over one side of his face and begin blending it out for him. Throughout the process of you making Darby's face paint design look right he gazes up at you with adorable puppy dog eyes.

"Do you have to stare at me like that? It's distracting." You grumble to Darby.

"Like what?" Darby replies with a knowing grin.

You roll your eyes at him and switch colors. "Like you're madly in love with me."

"Maybe I am." Darby replies.

"Okay lover boy." You giggle and lean down for a kiss. "There, now you look as hardcore as you claim to be."

You start putting away all your stuff and Darby checks his reflection in his phone. "Do I get an 'I love you' back?" He asks you.

"I gave you a kiss." You protest. "Isn't that enough?" You tease him.

"Coming from you? It's never enough." Darby insists. "Come on." He whines. "I love you. Three simple words. For good luck." Darby comes up behind you for a hug.

You sigh when Darby wraps his arms around you. "You know people might not think you're such a hardcore dude if they saw how clingy you are." You joke.

"What can I say? I'm a lover not a fighter." Darby replies.

"Okay!" You laugh and turn around in Darby's arms. "Tell that to all the times I've had to bandage you up." You remind him. "I love you, you overly-violent idiot. Now go find my dad." You give him a small shove toward the door.

Darby grins to himself and lingers at the door. "I knew you loved me."

"Mhm. Go! Before my dad thinks I stole you." You point at the door.

"It'd be worth it." Darby replies as he heads out the door.

You roll your eyes again with a smile on your face and finish cleaning up.

You hang around in the locker room for a while and watch the show unfold on a tv monitor. Toward the end of the show you watch the Jackson brothers head out to the ring and once again start badmouthing your father and Darby. A fight ensues of course, and you know that you'll be checking Darby for injuries later.

After the show goes off the air you sit and wait for Darby and Sting to head back to the locker room.

"Hey, dad." You greet Sting when he finally show up with Darby.

"Hey, sweetie." Sting nods to you. "How has your day been?" He asks you.

You shrug as Darby walks over to you. "It was fine. You didn't hit your head did you?" You ask Darby.

"I don't think I did." Darby shrugs.

"You don't thin you did?" You repeat him and begin looking at his head. "How do you not know if you hit your head?"

Sting chuckles at your bickering. "You'd better get used to it Darby." He snickers. "With me gone she's about to get ten times worse." He jokes.

"Oh I know I'm so annoying for caring about my boyfriend." You huff.

"I love you too." Darby grins.

Sting laughs and you stop fawning over Darby. Everyone settles down and starts packing up to leave.

"So," Sting prompts you. "How do you feel about coming out to the ring with me and Darby on Sunday?" He asks you.

"Do you want me out there?" You ask in surprise. "Is that even a good idea? I don't want to get in the way, dad."

Sting shakes his head. "You're my only kid that doesn't have to be in the crowd." He reminds you. "Why wouldn't I want you out there."

"Darby? What do you think?" You turn to Darby.

"I don't see why not." Darby shrugs. "I don't think Matt and Nick are the types to mess with you if you're out there. And even if they are, you know I'd never let them get the chance to hurt you." He adds.

You nod, knowing that Darby would go through hell to make sure that you're safe. "Alright, yeah, I'll go out there with you two." You decide to honor Sting's request. "I can play cheerleader for one night. Plus it'll be fun to rub it in the guy' face." You giggle.

"Atta girl." Sting beams. "That's why you're my favorite." He teases you.

"Awe, I love you too, dad." You giggle and hug him.

#wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #wrestling fic #aew fanfiction #aew fanfic #aew fic #aew x reader #darby allin #darby allin x reader #syd's wrestling fics #wrestling #aew #all elite wrestling

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rikaklassen · 7 months ago

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Airborne Risk Indoor Online Calculator (ARIA)

A team of international experts under the World Health Organization (WHO) developed an Airborne Risk Indoor Online Calculator.

ARIA is an online tool that enables users and building managers to assess the risk of SARS-COV-2 (COVID-19) airborne transmission in residential, public, and healthcare settings. The aim is to inform decisions that can significantly reduce the risk of transmission.

A 66-pages document [5.757 MB, English, archived] is available.

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theetherealbloom · 2 years ago

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THE SILVER LINING — CH. 1

Chapter One: The Mercury Keeps Rising

Summary: After aiding the Republic and the fall of the Empire, you left the Jedi Training Clan on Bogden 3 to help families in need of medical care with the call of the Force. You are a kind, warm-hearted healer on Nevarro, treating the citizens and albeit the bounty hunters as well. Imperial remnants still linger in the shadows, waiting to strike at the perfect moment. Leading you to assist the Mandalorian with rescuing the Child has somehow led you to your biggest adventure yet.

Paring: Din Djarin x Empath!FemReader

Warnings: Violence, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, People pleasing, Flattery, Blood, Blasters, War, Religion References, Aliens, Sith, Character Deaths,

Word Count: 6.7k

A/N: YA’LL IM BACK TO WRITING MY SOUL OUT HERE YAY! I feel like this is gonna be a weekly updated fic or updated twice a week if I’m feeling speedy hehe. Did I turn to the Enneagram again? Yep! You are an Enneagram Two for this fic! Yay! (Cause I’m an Enneagram Two :>) And Din is an Enneagram One, so ya’ll are romantically compatible. Anyways, my thoughts and explanations are gonna be in the end notes! Leave a comment to let me know if you want this series or if I should scrap it. :)

Song: The Great War by Taylor Swift

Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

NEVARRO, 9ABY – DAWN

Just a little longer now… Shouldn't be much longer. Wait, what is this about? You’ve been having trouble sleeping since you were young. The nightmares were nothing new, but the sharp flares in your chest and side kept bothering you recently. Your nervous system's acting up and now being awake feels unsafe as you lay there in your cot, clutching your chest, feeling each breath that escapes from your nose and out through your mouth as you stare at the ceiling above you.

You were a long way from Bogden 3, where you were raised. Nevarro wasn’t the ideal place to hide. It was situated within a sector of the Outer Rim Territories, in a system with a singular star and asteroid fields. An ashen world of black sands, with rocky and volcanic terrain that consisted of regions of rocky flats and hills along with vast fields of lava, which contained lava rivers both on the surface and underground.

The planet became a bounty hunter hive after the fall of the Empire. The Bounty Hunters’ Guild owns hubs throughout the Galaxy. One of such hub is located on the Outer Rim planet Nevarro, which functions as a cantina. The cantina works around the clock, has its brewery, offers a wide selection of drinks with snacks, provides coolness from the air conditioner, and is a favorite place for rest and meetings of bounty hunters.

By some luck or the unknown ways of the Force, no one had recognized you nor put a bounty on your head yet. After aiding the Republic during the revolution against the Empire and after the Battle of Yavin as a healer and a medic, you left to medically aid those in need after the war. If you were being honest, you missed your friends in the Soaring Hawkbat Clan and the people who raised you. However, you knew that what you were doing needed to be done.

Droids may sometimes be unreliable, and no matter how sophisticated technology becomes, there is no substitute for the human touch. No droid, no matter how dexterous, can offer compassion. It might be able to store and process more medical information, but only people can offer a truly sympathetic ear. As one of the few who possessed the knowledge to provide primary care to the sick and wounded, Greef Karga eventually established a small medcenter a few blocks away from the cantina.

You decide to push yourself up and away from your cot, seeing the glimmer of light peek through the window. Cleaning up, getting dressed, and after quickly eating a piece of purple fruit, you sling your brown satchel over your shoulder and hurriedly make your way to the medcenter. As you enter, you greet the 2-1B droid which had modular limbs that allowed them to use a range of surgical tools and other medical instruments based on their patients' needs. You made your way over to your desk, setting down your bag and then sterilizing your hands afterward.

Different energy and buzz were happening around Nevarro. As you patched up one of the Trandoshan and sold them a couple of cans containing bacta for a good amount of credits, you had overheard them talking about receiving a job from the Client and planning a flight to Arvala-7. Living on this bounty hunter-infested planet taught you to listen for information and to use it to your advantage when necessary. They were usually given a holopuck, a simple holographic device used to display an image of the quarry and the bounty payout. However, they were only given a tracking fob, the Trandoshan briefly flashing it to you before tucking it away in their belt.

The next few hours were spent treating different families with various illnesses and injuries, then sending them off with some medication and a specific date to return. This was your usual routine, nothing new to note except for that tiny piece of information from earlier.

The sound of the doors hissing to life causes you to turn your head. If you were being honest, this was the last person you expected to show up in your medcenter. Your mouth gaped open as you take in the sight of the tall and imposing figure in front of you. The unmistakable shape of the Mandalorian helmet and polished silver causes you to nearly choke on your saliva.

“Do you have any bacta spray?” The sound of his rough and modulated voice causes you to try and gather your composure as he walks towards you, which proves to be slightly challenging. You clear your throat and look at his vizor, “Yeah, let me just go to the cabinet to get some.” He doesn’t respond, leaving you to awkwardly stand there for a few more seconds before moving to retrieve the bacta spray.

You usually aren’t this nervous or anxious around anyone, but the Mandalorian was completely different. As you rummage through the cabinet, you try and fight the overwhelming urge to sense his feelings, but it is no use. He radiates with deep hurt from his past but tries to bury his soul in the dark. This Mandalorian weights living heavy on his spine. A man who has created mistakes grips at them until his hands are bruised and burning. You wince at that, nearly dropping one of the bacta sprays but manage to catch it, turning to the Mandalorian keenly observing you as you make your way over to him, trying to ignore the waves and streaks of grey and silver glowing around his figure, you quickly hand it to him while saying, “I hope three is enough for now.”

He curtly nods, “How much?” You shake your head, “You don’t have to pay. It’s fine.” The slight tilt of his helmet almost causes you to blush, you feel his curiosity and concern, “I insist.”

You blink and shake your head again, “Nope. Just… be careful on your journey. That’s enough for me.” You sense his confusion and interest before he turns and walks away, leaving a trail of gray streaks only you could see, hearing the slight clink sound of beskar, and the doors closing.

Once you’re sure he left, you bring both of your hands to the side of your face, using two fingers to rub into your temple, sighing in embarrassment and disappointment for allowing yourself to nearly reveal who you truly are. Having strong Force empathy abilities involved picking up impressions of an individual's feelings and general emotional state. There was no explanation for the aura you could see around individuals, a specific color for each living creature that encompasses their character, personality, morals, past, present, and sometimes, a rare glimpse of their future emotions.

You try and ground yourself by closing your eyes and breathing, controlled and steady breaths of air as you reassure yourself that you’re safe. The peace doesn’t last long, as flashes of visions begin to cloud your periphery. Loud explosions on Nevarro, blaster fights, the unmistakable loud cries of a child, and the Mandalorian at the center of it all. You fall to your knees, clutching your chest tightly and the other to hold your upper body. You sensed the dark side, anger, fear, aggression, and a lust for power from this planet long before, but now you sense there is something much more sinister approaching.

NEVARRO, 9ABY – NOON

After a few days, you intercepted a transmission from the Mandalorian successfully capturing the bounty from Arvala-7, and must be directly given to The Client. While the Mandalorian was gone you had been secretly training, meditating, and gathering more information about whoever this Client may be, allowing the Force to guide you to the path you must walk on.

You step out of the medcenter to see the Razor Crest preparing to land on the settlement's spaceport and disembark. You toss the hood over your head and use a scarf as a mask, hiding in the shadows, watching the Mandalorian and a hover-pram pass you by swiftly and you catch a glimpse of a green creature inside. Your mouth slightly drops open in shock and the quiet feeling of the Force settles inside of you as you eye the baby.

You follow the two of them from a distance, not wanting to be noticed or seen. The Mandalorian turns right into an alleyway, and you wait a few seconds before trailing him. You hide behind one of the stone pillars, keenly observing his movements. The Mandalorian pounds loudly on a metal door and a TT-8L/Y7 gatekeeper droid, a simple photoreceptor mounted on a retractable eyestalk. The Mandalorian shows a disc as proof of identity. You notice The Child reacts in surprise as the droid retracts.

The door unlocks, and you realize you must follow them without getting caught. Your eyes close as you calmed yourself, deep breaths in and out, registering the light and sound waves around you, every particle and atom. Tiny pieces of music, notes in the air that only you can hear, each sound of your heartbeat, you hold my breath and try to swim. Making infinite room for hope and oxygen, every cell across your skin comes to life, and slowly willing the light particles to bend and render you invisible to visual and audio detection.

When you open your eyes, you silently gasped, seeing a pair of Remnant Stormtroopers exit the house, and watching The Child lowers its ears and head. Your hands clench in a fist so tight you reminded yourself to breathe, following after the Mandalorian and the Stormtroopers before the door slides shut behind you. Inside the corridor, one of the stormtroopers roughly yanks the Child's cradle. Your eyes narrow in agitation and annoyance, the Madalorian is quick to say, “Easy with that.” To which the first Stormtrooper snarkily replies, “You take it easy.”

The stormtroopers lead you to a frail old man who you assume to be the Client and to a familiar-looking doctor on the side, the Client is delighted, “Yes!” He holds the tracking fob and approaches the Child, “Yes, yes, yes! Yes.” The Doctor begins to scan the child with a device, eventually, the scanner beeps to his delight, “Very healthy. Yes.”

The Client stands taller to speak to the Mandalorian, “Your reputation was not unwarranted.” The Mandalorian isn’t the least bit flattered, opting to question him, “How many fobs did you give out?” To which the Client responds, “This asset was of extreme importance to me. I had to ensure its delivery. But to the winner…” He walks over to the desk, bringing out a large container, “Go the spoils.” After a few buttons are pushed, the sides of the container bloom open to reveal bars of Beskar. The Mandalorian comes closer to the center table, holding two bars of beskar as you frown in disappointment.

“Such a large bounty for such a small package.” The Client says, and the Child cries and coos for the Mandalorian as he is taken away by the doctor. He can’t help the guilt that bubbles inside of him, he asks, “What are your plans for it?” The Client isn’t amused by his inquiry, “How uncharacteristic of one of your reputation. You have taken both commission and payment. Is it not the Code of the Guild that these events are now forgotten?”

Two more Stormtroopers appear from the room to the right, standing behind the Client, “That Beskar is enough to make a handsome replacement for your armor. Unfortunately, finding a Mandalorian in these trying times is more difficult than finding the steel.” With that, the Mandalorian places the two pieces of Beskar inside the container. No longer speaking and leaving with his prize as you follow him outside undetected.

Once you were in the main streets of the city, you pull back your cloak and render yourself visible, watching the Mandalorian walks through the marketplace and down the steps into the sewer below. You feel the heavy weight on your chest, unsure if the emotions you feel are coming from him or if they are your own. You shake your head and make your way to the Cantina, needing a drink after all of the information you’ve gathered.

You were taught about Master Yoda, a legendary Jedi Master and stronger than most in his connection with the Force. Small in size but wise and powerful, he trained Jedi for over eight hundred years, playing integral roles in the Clone Wars, and helped in the upbringing of Master Luke Skywalker, to which your clan members were deciding to join him or not. Could this Child be another one of his kind?

The Cantina doors opened and you were immediately greeted by Greef Karga, “Well, look who we have here our favorite medic! Never thought you’d step foot in this place.” You shrugged in response, trying to shake off the stares of the different guests in the Cantina, “I gotta support Mikgel from time to time. Besides, he said he owed me a free drink.” You walk a bit closer to Greef Karga’s table as he asks, “Why would a woman like you, so carefree spirited need a drink?”

You sit on the other side of the booth, placing both of your arms atop the table, “Would… finding out about Imperial Forces hiding in out in a safe house on our planet count?” Greef Karga chokes on air and winces, you tilt your head down and raise an eyebrow, “Did you think you could keep this from me? What the hell are they doing here?”

He regains his composure and leans forward to whisper his reply, “I never intended to keep it from you. I was trying to protect you.” You scoff in disbelief and annoyance, “Protect me?”

To which Karga says, “Yes! Protect you, if they knew who you were and what you are they’d–” You rarely get angry, always choosing to see the good in people, but you sense the feeling of Karga’s greed and mixed lies.

You raise your hand, palm facing him, “Don’t lecture me about something I’ve lived and fought through. Giving them your services makes you an accomplice, a rat, and a damn coward.” The taste of acid and the waves of color that is radiates off of Karga is a mix of a bright lava orange and red, his simmering anger hisses at you, “Look who’s to talk. Hiding all your life. Running from your own future. Isn’t that a bit selfish and cowardly?” You deflate at that, understanding that he is partially right.

But before you could respond to the sound of the doors hissing open, you turn your head to see the Mandalorian entering the cantina, which silences its patrons as everyone gazes at him. Completely decked out with shiny new armor, he is completely unbothered as he approaches the table where you and Greef Karga are conversing. Karga heartily laughs, “Ah! Mando! They all hate you, Mando. Because you’re a legend!”

You try and get out of the booth and leave but Mando uses his right hand for you to stay put, so you settle back down again. You raise your eyes to hear the raspy voice of the Mandalorian confront Karga, “How many of them had tracking fobs?” Greef Karga scoffs and gestures around the Cantina, “All of them. All of them! But not one of them closed the deal. Only you, Mando. Only you.” The Mandalorian looks at you, “What about her?” To which you look up at him and frown, “No. I’m just a medic getting a drink after a tough day. But congratulations, I guess.”

Greef Karga continues, “And with it, the richest reward this parsec has ever seen. Please sit with us, my friend.” The Mandalorian obliges and unclips his Amban sniper rifle, placing it on the side of the couch before you move a little to the right to give him room to sit next to you. He took up almost half of the booth with his width and physique. You feel your left arm warm up with how close he was, the comfort that allures you to his orbit was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You choose to look straight ahead, trying not to acknowledge him pressed up beside you, luckily Greef Karga opens his mouth to talk, “They’re all weighing the Beskar in their minds, but not me. No. I, for one, celebrate your success. Because it is my success as well.”

Your right leg bounces up and down in anticipation Karga continues, “Hell! Even I’m rich.” He chuckled and digs into his breast pocket to reveal the two bars of Beskar he was given by the Client. You roll your eyes in annoyance, but the Guild Master says, “Now, how can I show my gratitude to my most valuable partner?”

Mando cuts to the chase, “I want my next job.” Greef Karga takes a sip of his drink before placing it down on the table, he eyes him with confusion, “Next job? Take some time off. Enjoy yourself. I’ll take you to the Twi’lek healing baths.” You frown at that and Mando doesn’t seem to care, “I want my next job.” Karga sighs, “Sure. Fine.”

“You hunters like to keep busy, right?” Karaga says with an amused tone, “Well, these are all far away.” He places a bunch of holopucks on the table and the Mandalorian reaches out to grab one, “The further, the better.” Karga smiles, “Well, take your pick. You’ve earned it.”

Mando places the holopuck on the table and it whizzes to life, showing an image of a Mon Calamari. “Ah. That’s the best one of the lot. A nobleman’s son skipped bail. Looks like you’re headed to the ocean dunes of Karnac.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything and simply takes the puck and moves away from the table, grabbing his Amban sniper rifle, seemingly satisfied with his pick. You turn to watch him go but he freezes, and you use the force to reach out what he’s feeling, to be flooded with waves of guilt. Your eyebrows knit together as you hear Mando ask, “Any idea what they’re gonna do with it?”

Karga is packing the rest of the holopucks, “With what?” The Mandalorian turns to face him, “The kid.” Karga shakes his head, “I didn’t ask. It’s against the Guild Code.” Mando’s voice goes deeper as he points out, “They work for the Empire. What are they doing here?” You raise your eyebrows at Karga, as you smile smugly at him, “I asked the same thing.” To which he says, “Are the two of you working together? The Empire is gone. All that are left are mercenaries and warlords. But if it bothers you both, just go back to the Core and report them to the New Republic.”

You rolled your eyes and the Mandalorian grunts out, “That’s a joke.” Greef doesn’t give a remark about his statement, instead, he says, “Mando, enjoy your rewards. Buy a camtono of spice. By the time you come out of hyperdrive, you will have forgotten all about it.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t reply and simply takes his leave. You shake your head, scoffing at Karga and he calls out your name as you near the exit, “I suggest you keep yourself out of sight with those Imperial troops. For your safety, of course.” You say nothing and leave the Cantina, you feel the ground shaking under your feet and feel the pressure building until you can't breathe.

You shake your head, and the temptation of the dark side calls to you, to give in to your rage and hatred, you internally fight it off, gritting your teeth as you say, “No.” You catch your breath and focus, rationalizing your decision to break into the Imperial Remnant safe house to save the Child, then you will yourself to move towards the medcenter.

You swiftly walked towards your desk, grabbed your satchel, and opened the flap of the leather. Finding the fabric that wraps around the object you were searching for, you pull it out of the satchel and unwrap it. The lightsaber hilt that you haven’t touched since the day you left the clan, weighs heavy in your hands but the familiar cool touch of silver and gold metal forged into one grant you a sense of comfort. You wrap the hilt once more, not yet needing your lightsaber, placing it inside your satchel and instead arm yourself with a blaster. As you were gathering a few bacta sprays, the double doors sounded open, you don’t look over your shoulder as you say, “We’re closed for the day.”

“I need your help.” You feel your eyes expand and widen, the familiar voice of the Mandalorian causes you to wince a little bit as you turn to see his figure standing a few feet away from you.

You try to act nonchalant ask you ask, “What did you um… need?” Mando steps a bit closer to you, which causes your back to hit the cabinet door, his grave voice echoes through the modulator, “I need your help with rescuing the kid.” You swallow away your nervousness, “What? Why would you ask for my help?”

“You never showed up to the Cantina until today. You were asking Karga about the Imperials and you were curious as to why there were here. You never carry a weapon with you so I’m assuming you’re about to infiltrate their base. It looks like our interests are aligned,” Mando stated plainly as you quietly shook your head, “You don’t know me. So why trust me at all with this?”

It takes him a moment to form a response, you watch as his shoulders rise and fall with every intake of breath, then he says, “I’ve heard the good you’ve done for the people of Nevarro. No judgment or malice. Sometimes giving them medical care for free. You’re right, I don’t know who you are or what you’ve done before. But right now, I do know you’ve only done the right thing. So, I’m asking for your help.”

You were startled by his response, completely breathless by his honesty and directness. You had thought he didn’t know who you were, just some medic around Nevarro, plain and simple. But it seems the Mandalorian also keeps tabs on the citizens around the town.

The color aura of the Mandalorian returns as you blink at him, feeling his emotions bouncing off of him and you becoming the receiver. Sparks of white and silver illuminate him, sensing his sincerity and need to save the Child. You lick your lips as an anxious tick and then nod, “Okay. I’ll do it. What’s the plan?”

The sun was beginning to set, casting shadows on your figures as you swiftly walk down the marketplace and down the alleyway to see the giant green metal door to the Imperial safe house. You make a right to find the hovering pram in the dumpster, and you feel his rage beside you. Like wildfire within him, mountains made of ash and clouds of smoke. It's fight or flight buried in his mind as alarms will sound.

You both climb up to the rooftop of the building across, positioned on his stomach, using his sniper rifle to listen to his targets. Clicking the side of his helmet to which the device whizzes and the static could be heard as you lay flat next to him. You figured he was listening to the targets and waiting for him to relay the information. After a few seconds, the Mandalorian quickly says, “We need to get the kid out of there before they leave.” You nodded as you lifted your hood up, “Okay.”

You both climb down off the rooftop. The Mandalorian bangs on the green door and is greeted by the gatekeeper droid. However, the Mandalorian violently grabs the stem, causing it to screech and rips off the droid's head, causing it to short circuit. He quickly walks away to the side, causing the two stormtroopers to come out to investigate.

One of them tells the other, “Check the perimeter.”

You and the Mandalorian plant a grav charge on a nearby wall, he grabs your wrist to hide behind another wall, “Cover your ears.”

You follow his instructions, using both of your hands to cover them, the beeping chirps louder, then sparks begin to fly, blowing a hole in the Imperial compound. Alarms are blaring, as you both walk into the corridor, positioning yourselves and waiting for the stormtroopers to advance.

The yellow lights flicker and eventually short-circuit, catching a glimpse of sparks flying on the side of the wall. You see the stormtroopers pass you and the Mandalorian to inspect the giant hole in the wall, using the flashlights on the side of their blasters to find nothing.

You both appear from behind the stormtroopers, the Mandalorian shooting the both of them from behind. Another stormtrooper enters the corridor and finds his fallen comrades, one of whom has a smoking hole in his chest. The Mandalorian once again appears from the shadows, knocking him down with his blaster and shooting him as well.

So far you hadn’t even needed to draw out your blaster, Mando is truly skilled. You walk through the corridors of the facility, checking each corner for stormtroopers. You and he venture deeper into the compound where he traps a fourth stormtrooper with his grappling cable and stabs him with his vibroblade.

You shoot a door open and the stormtrooper manages to get a hit on this shoulder pauldron, causing him to jerk backward but manages to shoot the stormtrooper inside the laboratory. You both walk inside and you spot the doctor and an IT-O Interrogation Unit. The doctor begins to plead for his life, “No, no, no, no, please. Please. No. No, no.” You raise your blaster to shoot down the IT-O Interrogation Unit, watching the pile of junk collapse on the ground.

Mando raises his blaster to shoot at the doctor, but he begs you both once more, “No, please. Please don’t hurt him. It’s just a child.” You and the Mandalorian walk toward him and he continues to plead, “Please. No. No! Please. No. No, no.” Mando grabs him by his chest and shoves him to the side, causing him to fall to the floor. He points and clicks his blaster at him, and he curls into a ball with his arm stretched out begging. You make your way to the machine keeping the child, finding him deep asleep.

You feel the Mandalorian break at the sight, alarms are still blaring, but it's too late for holy water now. He points the blaster, angrily asking, “What did you do to it?” He doesn’t get an immediate response which causes him to repeat the question harshly, “What did you do to it?” The doctor shakingly replies, “I protected him. If it wasn’t for me, he would already be dead! Please! Please. Please.”

The doctor whimpers as you quickly grab the Child and leave with the Mandalorian. You make a right but here the doors open, Mando grabs you and presses you up against a wall to hide behind some of the storage crates. You suddenly feel nauseous and can hear your own heartbeat flutter as you register the cool kiss of his armor against your warm flesh. You close your eyes as you feel the rise and fall of your chest and hear Mandos’ quiet breathing.

You try to push down your powers and senses, not wanting to feel his emotions at this particular moment right now. You feel the strings and waves radiating and intertwining with yours, the silver wisps curling with your bright shining colors. You tightly shut your eyes, hoping that you were almost out of this compound.

Suddenly, you hear the Mandalorian whisper, “They’re gone.”

Your lashes flutter as you open your eyes to meet his gaze through his vizor, there is a spectrum of color, surrounding you both. Your mouth partly opens to say something but there is no sound. For a moment, you believed he felt something too, the pull of gravity within your orbit. However, Mando pulls away from you and the colors disappear once more as if it was never truly there.

Neither of you spoke as you trail behind him and walk into a storeroom. The unexpected sound of the door opening catches you and Mando off-guard as two stormtroopers with flashlights attached to their armor try to shoot you both down. One of the stormtroopers says, “Split up. We’ll flush him out.”

You see their flashlights give away their positions, giving you and him time to defend yourselves. You turn to your left to give Mando the Child, letting him carry it, and make your way to the other stormtrooper.

“Give it up. There’s nowhere to–” You hear the groan of the stormtrooper being taken down by Mando, and you do the same to the other one, hitting him over the head with your blaster before knocking him out completely.

Another stormtrooper announces his arrival, “Hey!” To which you grab Mando’s Ampan sniper rifle on the floor, electrocuting him with the fork end of the device.

As you both exit the storeroom only to run into a stormtrooper. You both exchange gunfire, the sharp whizzing sound of blaster fire echoes in your ears, and the Mandalorian shoots him down. A second stormtrooper blasts his way through, and he unleashes his flamethrower on the second stormtrooper, scorching him. The Child looks away as this happens. The charred stormtrooper falls to the ground.

You groan in annoyance, “How many are there?” Mando hums, “Way too many for the Empire to be considered gone.”

You follow him and enter the meeting room with him holding the Child. Seemingly empty you walk straight to the exit doors, however, they open to reveal four more stormtroopers, “Freeze!” You three are completely cornered, “Don’t move! Hands up!” One of them yells, “Drop the blasters!”

You glare at the stormtroopers as Mando speaks calmly to them, “Wait. What I’m holding is very valuable. Here.” Mando gestures to you to do the same as you get down on your knees to place your blasters on the ground and he gently places the Child on the floor as well. “Now turn and face me!”

A stormtrooper commands, but neither of you moves, allowing yourself to have faith in the Mandalorian’s plans. You watch him clench his fists, and you hear the device on his arm chirp to life. “Stand up!” They command once more but you don’t follow their orders. A beat passes. The sharp sound of whistling birds creating fireworks as he unleashes them onto your enemies, you hear them groan in pain as it takes out all of the stormtroopers.

Mando gently picks up the Child and his blaster to which you grab your blaster from the floor, quickly exiting the compound. You walk side by side with the Mandalorian through the streets of Navarro, feeling the menacing stares of each bounty hunter. You spot their tracking fobs have been reactivated, loudly beeping as they point it towards your direction. Soon enough you are surrounded by several armed bounty hunters.

You spot Greef Karga stepping into view, “Welcome back! I’m surprised to see you ask for help from our talented healer. Now put the package down.” You analyze the several bounty hunters, trying to find an escape. “Step aside. I’m going to my ship.” Mando said, and Karga softly chuckles, “You put the bounty down and perhaps I’ll let you pass and our medic can be easily forgiven, after all, she’s done for the citizens of this town.”

Mando doesn’t relent and states, “She and the kid are coming with me.” You turn to look at him in surprise that he wouldn’t just leave you here to face the consequences of your actions. “If you truly care about the kid and her, then you’ll put it on the speeder and you’ll let her walk away as if none of this ever happened and we’ll discuss terms.” An R6 astromech droid, on the speeder, turns its head.

“How do we know if we can trust you?” You asked and Karga scoffs, “Because I’m your only hope.” You watch Mando walk over to the speeder and you feel your eyes begin to fog with oncoming tears. Karga says your name, “Walk away and we’ll discuss this later.” You clench your jaw and glare at the bounty agent before turning your back toward him, and placing your hand on your blaster as you sensed it, the tingling in your spine and throughout your body.

Mando whirls around and shoots at the other bounty hunters, jumping onto a repulsorlift vehicle carrying luggage. You quickly take cover and shoot down the other bounty hunters running towards the Mandalorian and hopping onto the repulsorlift. Deep and commanding, he demands the astromech droid, “Drive!”

The droid shakes its head in disapproval and Mando raises his blaster at him, “Drive!” The astromech screeches in fear and drives the repulsorlift vehicle while you and Mando are shooting down as many bounty hunters as you can.

You aim for the sniper above and shoot while Mando covers the ground as you drive by. The astromech is shot down by Karga, you see bright yellow sparks and you hear the droid power down. You hear Mando whisper, “Are you okay?”

To which you hum and nod, “Mhm. I’m fine.”

It’s now deadly quiet as the rest of the hunters step closer toward the repulsorlift. The fork end of the amban rifle peaks through the luggage as Mando aims and blasts bounty hunters into ash. Different species groan and clamor to hide behind various objects.

“That’s one impressive weapon!” Karaga states and Mando’s voice booms as he announces, “Here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna walk to my ship with her and the kid, and you’re gonna let it happen.”

“No. How about this? We take the kid and the medic, and if you try to stop us, we will kill you and we strip your body for parts.” Karga says menacingly, and suddenly you feel someone pull your leg, dragging you and you yelp out in fear and surprise.

Mando is quick to your aid, using the butt of his rifle and then shocking him with the fork of his weapon, completely stunning the first bounty hunter while you shoot down the second.

You spot the rest of the hunters advancing towards you with their weapons, firing every part of the speeder.

Greef Karga yells, “Don’t hit the target or her!” As a last resort, Mando activates his flamethrower, which causes the bounty hunters to fall back for a moment, only for it to run out of fuel. You lay down next to the Child, craning your head to the right to gaze at his peaceful sleeping form.

You feel the sudden weight of Mando hovering over you and the kid, trying to protect both of you til the end. You hear the Child coo beside you and smile in adoration.

You reach into your satchel and dig for the lightsaber hilt, readying yourself to defend Mando and the Child the moment it comes down to it. Without notice, you hear the whooshing sound of rockets streaking through the air to hit one of the bounty hunters straight through the chest. Fortunately, several fellow members of the Mandalorian Tribe, donning jetpacks and blasters, come to your aid, taking out several bounty hunters.

You watch in awe as the Mandalorians skillfully use their weapons in taking out the remaining bounty hunters, the head infantry lands close to the speeder and says, “Get out of here! We’ll hold them off!” To which Mando replies, “You’re going to have to relocate the covert.” The head infantry responds, “This is the Way.” And Mando echos back, “This is the Way.”

The firing continues and Mando carries the Child and helps to pull you up. You and the Mandalorian board the Razor Crest, but are soon cornered by Greef Karga, “Hold it right there.” You both turn to face Karga as he states, “I didn’t want it to come to this. But then you broke the Code. And you,” he turns to talk to you, “Since you’re with him they will come after you too now. And the Imps will soon follow.” You raise your chin as you steadily replied, “Let them try.”

The Mandalorian uses his grappling hook to trigger the carbonite chamber, unleashing some tibanna gas in an attempt to blind Karga. You expertly doge his attempts to shoot at you only for you to outstretch your hand, using the Force to let his weapon fly out of his hands, he stands there completely stunned and Mando uses his blaster to shoot him off of the Razor Crest.

The hatch closes and you strap yourself in, the Razor Crest takes off, watching the other Mandalorians provide covering fire through the window. You comfortably soar into the skies of Nevarro. You spot the head infantry flying beside the ship and salute him before flying off.

The Mandalorian makes a remark, “I gotta get one of those.” And you snort in amusement. The Child is seated beside his lap and is reaching for something. The Mandalorian unscrews the metal ball on the stick and gives it to him to play with before taking the Razor Crest into space.

End Notes:

YAYYYYYYYYYYYY! SPACE DAD STORY!

You are a force-sensitive empath! HORRAY!

You can force cloak yourself because this skill tends to come to people as more of a natural talent, for it is extremely difficult to learn otherwise; thus, the reason the ability is rarely seen.

The reader is an Enneagram 2! You are a part of the Heart Center; The benevolent, embrace of the good in other people, engage in every emotional love, you experience and feel their emotions more than anyone else. Helpful, natural nurturers, understanding, generous, supportive, mistaken as the passive, embodiment of what love and embrace look like.

The Mandalorian is an Enneagram One personality type with a Nine wing. Enneagram Ones belong to the body center, along with Eights and Nines, and they naturally make decisions based on gut instinct. The Mandalorian likes to feel in control, particularly of his physical environment. For Enneagram Ones, freedom and independence are important.

SO THAT'S A GLIMPSE INTO THEIR PERSONALITY TYPE AND THE WAY THEY MAKE CHOICES!

All will be revealed in the coming chapters! I can’t wait for you guys to read them AHHHHHH

Thank you for all the reblogs, comments, feedback, and likes! Ya’ll really are too sweet and I truly appreciate your kind words. SEE YA IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!

TAGLIST:

@wastingspaces @avengersheart @lunatic1012 @keepingupwiththeskywalkers

#din djarin x empath!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #din djarin #the mandalorian fic #mando x you #The Silver Lining #The Silver Lining Masterlist #The Silver Lining Din Djarin #din djarin x fem!reader #pedro pascal x reader

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backofthebookshelf · 9 months ago

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Okay, fine, you've finally pissed me off enough that I'm willing to talk politics on tumblr

I can't speak for all leftists, but when THIS leftist says they're having a hard time voting for Biden this time around, it's not because I don't want people to vote or because I genuinely think Trump wouldn't be any worse

It's because this is the administration that made me finally realize, on a deep and profound gut level, that none of these people actually care about us. That electoralism won't save us - HASN'T saved us, not from COVID, or wildfires, or cops, or billionaires, or genocide.

"But Trump will make all those things worse--" Yeah for sure! But things are bad enough right now that we can't, at least I can't, continue on like things are now, even if I felt like I could trust Biden (or any Democrat, let's be honest, this isn't about him at all, we're not even fighting about primaries this time because we aren't being given a choice) to keep them from getting worse.

By all means, we should vote for Biden, because things getting worse more slowly is better than things getting worse faster. But we deserve better than a life that only gets a little bit worse every year, and I'm sick of people telling me I'm being ungrateful for wanting more than that.

Again: THIS ISN'T ABOUT WHO TO VOTE FOR. this is about spending your time on something, anything - union organizing, clean air advocacy, bringing food and shelter to the houseless, physically preventing the movement of weapons and military contractors - that has a better chance of saving lives than any politician.

"The revolution isn't going to come next year -" okay, well, neither is pushing Dems far enough left that they stop supporting Israel or do anything about emissions or anything else that treats human lives as more important than a billionaire's profit margins. The presidential election happens once every four years, WHY are we ceding an entire year to defending a piece of shit because he's slightly less of a piece of shit than the other guy? What if I told you there's a secret third thing, and that thing isn't voting for a third party but making a once-every-four-years vote as unimportant to you as your wants and desires and hopes and dreams are to any of the people you'd vote for and working your ass off on SOMETHING THAT HELPS PEOPLE instead?

#and look #i am not an accellerationist but every one of y'all who vaxxed & relaxed is testing my patience #because personally my life was a lot better in 2020 than it has been since #and every disabled person i know (who was disabled before they got covid) tends to agree #at least then y'all acted like we were in a crisis #i do not want to be an accellerationist because revolutions are BAD to live through #but y'all could help by actually treating anything like it matters before it impacts you personally

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newspatron · 9 months ago

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India's Electric Vehicle Revolution: Charged Up for the Future

Share your thoughts! What excites you most about India's EV revolution? What questions do you have? Let's discuss!

हिन्दी में पढ़ना चाहें तो आप इस लेख को न्यूजपैट्रन हिन्दी पर पढ़ सकते है [इलेक्ट्रिक वाहन: भारत का नया और हरा भवि��्य – इलेक्ट्रिक वाहन भारत में तेजी से बढ़ रहे हैं, जो आर्थिक, पर्यावरणीय, और ऊर्जा सुरक्षा के लिए लाभदायक हैं। इस लेख में, आप इलेक्ट्रिक वाहनों के बारे में सब कुछ…

View On WordPress

#charging infrastructure #clean air #electric cars #electric vehicles #EV revolution #future of transportation #government incentives #India #Mahindra eVerito #Sustainability #Tata Nexon EV

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 6 months ago

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Alright, so how do we feel about a steam punk AU where the world has literally been destroyed by the industrial revolution (Stede's family is a big part of that) and Stede disowns his family after stealing a large portion of his fortune to become an air pirate (he leaves his family behind because he doesn't want them to get into trouble). Except he puts together a scrappy band of tinkerers and he doesnt like violence, so they end up working on making a clean and efficient air ship that not only runs clean but cleans the air around it. They're being hunted by the British Air Force as well as other pirates and Ed saves him from a British. Idk anyway that was running through my head this morning. I need Frenchie in a Steam Punk version of that Jimi Hendrix outfit. k bye.

#ofmd #ofmd au musings #stede bonnet #our flag means death #steampunk ofmd plz

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0maisie0 · 11 months ago

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Paint or poison - the master x gn!reader

(Inspired by how I spent my day painting with almost no ventilation.)

The familiar sound of the master's tardis materialising in the corner of the small living room of your apartment broke through the air. The small open window beside it blew throughout the room where you stood, standing precariously on a ladder. A can of paint on one side and an array of brushes on the other.

The master pushed open the tardis door, coughing almost immediately. “My- What are you doing?”

“Painting. I thought now that I've cleaned it would be the perfect time.” you smiled and turned around to greet him, the ladder wobbling slightly under you.

The master reached out quickly to wrap his arms around your waist.

“Are you sure? It smells like poison in here.” his voice came out slightly raspy.

You stepped down from the ladder, staring at the fresh paint on the wall as the master kept his arms wrapped tightly around you. His warm breath tickled the back of your neck slightly before he broke into another round of coughing.

You turned around quickly, your face laced with concern. “Master? Are you ok?”

“I've never…” cough, “smelt this much paint before.”

“Yeah, I got slightly carried away.” you chuckled slightly and ushered him over to the tardis.

The door opened automatically for you as another round of coughing erupted from the master. He leant over the railing as he finally finished coughing. You stood behind him, rubbing his back when he finally stood again.

“That was horrible, are you sure it wasn't poison? Are you trying to kill me?” He narrowed his eyes at you, placing a hand on his hip.

“Yes!” you sighed. “It was wall paint, I just didn't have my window open wide enough I guess.”

The master pulled you close to his chest, the dried paint on your top cracking slightly between your bodies.

“We’re not going back out there, I'm taking you somewhere else.” he pulled you over to the console, pressing buttons as his arm snaked around your waist. Turning his head slightly to press a kiss to your temple.

“How about the industrial revolution? I own a lovely factory somewhere in London.”

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master #the master #the master x reader

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praetorqueenreyna · 11 months ago

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My last ACOTAR gift exchange fic is for @copypastus, my favorite degenerate villain lover! She started the Hytam revolution, so it's only fair of me to continue my Hytam fic for her.

Click here to read on AO3 or continue reading below:

The king of Hybern picked his way through the remains of Rosehall. The once proud manor was now dilapidated and overgrown with weeds. The front doors had been ripped off their hinges, and part of the ceiling in the foyer had caved in and allowed debris from the outside to invade and pile up on the floor. He made his way unerringly to the throne room. An enormous beast lay prone in front of the dais. Its wolf-like jaw rested on its paws, green eyes staring vacantly at the wall. One of the antlers that adorned its head had snapped off.

“Look what they’ve done to you,” he murmured. The beast didn’t move. “You fought me, every step of the way, out of some misplaced sense of honor. And what do you have to show for it?”

Slowly, painfully, the beast raised its head to look at him. The king fought back a smile. The situation was delicate, and the High Lord was still powerful. He continued speaking, his voice a soothing melody. “They’ve all betrayed you, haven’t they? For hundreds of years, they’ve used your loyalty against you and then left. The Lord of Night slaughtered your family and then waged war on your land. That human woman lied to you in order to destabilize your rule and steal your secrets. Even your faithful emissary has left you.”

The beast's eyes blazed at the mention of the Autumn Court brat. A matching surge of fury swelled in the king’s breast, and he fought it down. This was no time for petty emotions like jealousy. He was so close to success.

“Don’t you tire of these outdated notions of good and evil?” the king crooned. “Nobody else in this wretched kingdom adheres to them. You’ve fought for them long enough. Isn’t it time to fight for yourself? To seek vengeance against those who have deceived you?”

The king held his breath. This was the vital moment, where he found out if he had gone too far and ruined his entire plan before it had even begun. The beast unfolded its legs and rose to its feet. It approached the king, its mouth full of sharp teeth perfectly level with his throat. The metallic tang of magic filled the air, and the beasts form puddled and shifted into a bowed blonde man dressed in rags. The High Lord of Spring turned his gaunt face up to the king.

“Yes,” he said, voice hoarse from disuse. “Tell me how.”

Finally, the king allowed himself to grin. He tenderly cupped Tamlin’s cheek in his hand, thumb brushing against the perfect golden skin. “I already have.”

These things take time, Cesare reminded himself. Impatience was the enemy. He could wait. He had waited for five centuries for his chance to conquer Prythian once again. Still, he grew exasperated with Tamlin. The Spring lord vacillated between his desire for revenge and his stubbornly persistent sense of morality. Cesare coaxed Tamlin out of his depression, as one would cajole an injured animal into a trap. Tamlin stopped shifting into a beast to punish himself. He cleaned himself up and changed his clothes. Slowly, the manor around him began to repair itself, matching the lord’s improving mood.

It wasn’t enough. The king of Hybern didn’t want Tamlin content. He wanted Tamlin to fight. He reminded Tamlin of the wrongs committed against him, how those he had carefully cultivated relationships with turned their backs on him. Unfortunately, Tamlin was far more inclined towards self-flagellation than righteous anger. He blamed himself, over and over again, for his current state of being. Cesare began to despair that Tamlin would never rouse himself enough to participate in his plan. That Tamlin would never be his.

Then they found the assassin.

Cesare had carefully negotiated allowing a bare bones contingent of his soldiers into Spring. They wouldn’t attack or harm anybody, they were simply there to protect Tamlin’s unguarded borders. One of them sprinted into the manor, panting. They had apprehended an intruder, he explained, several miles from the border. If the Hybern soldiers hadn’t been patrolling, he would have made it to Rosehall completely unnoticed. At Cesare’s command, they brought their captive to the throne room, which still lay in ruins. Tamlin sat at the pile of rubble that used to be his throne. Cesare stood to his right, slightly in front of him.

The intruder was a pixie dressed in plain black clothing. He had midnight blue skin and pitch black eyes that glistened like wet tar. His fingers were long and narrow, tipped with wickedly sharp claws. His transparent veiny wings were hidden away under a beetle-like carapace. Cesare recognized the type immediately. These lesser fae crawled through the underground tunnels of the Night Court, infesting and reproducing like cockroaches. One on its own wasn’t particularly dangerous, but when they swarmed they could easily overwhelm much more powerful fae.

“We found this on him.” one of Cesare’s soldiers tossed a small vial through the air. Cesare caught it and opened it, his upper lip curling at the distinctive scent. It was hydrophid, a toxin about a thousand times more powerful than faebane. Even the fumes from the miniscule amount in the vial were enough to make Cesare lightheaded, and he quickly capped the container. He passed it to Tamlin, who also sniffed the vial’s contents. His brow furrowed; he knew as well as Cesare did that hydrophid came from a reptile that only inhabited the mountains of the Night Court.

“What’s your name, pixie?” a gentle voice behind Cesare caught him by surprise. Tamlin was leaning forward, staring intently at the pixie.

“Nehp,” he answered sullenly. “No use asking me nothing. I’m not gonna talk.”

“I think you will.” Tamlin rose from his seat until he stood in front of Nehp. A few weeks of taking care of himself had made a marked difference. No longer did his joints creak from disuse, no longer did he sway from malnutrition. He was strong and muscular, moving with the feral grace of a leopard. Cesare couldn’t take his eyes off him. He watched, discreetly signaling for his soldiers not to interfere.

“Who sent you?” Tamlin towered over Nehp, an implicit threat in his tone. The pixie gulped but didn’t answer. Tamlin cocked his head to one side and waited. Without warning, Nehp began to scream.

Cesare started, instinctively rising to his feet. Tamlin hadn’t touched the pixie, hadn’t so much as moved. But Nehp was shrieking as if he had been caught on fire. He lifted up his hands, and for a second it appeared that he was now wearing a pair of red gloves. Cesare’s vision focused and he realized that the skin on Nehp’s hands had peeled back, revealing muscle and tendons and bone. The screams changed pitch as Nehp’s head began to bubble with grotesque boils. Each boil exploded outward to reveal a bloodshot eye. All of a sudden Nehp gagged. A brief glimpse through his open mouth revealed that an eyeball had grown on the tip of his tongue.

“I can do this all day,” Tamlin said coldly. He was doing this, Cesare finally realized. He had known about the High Lord’s shapeshifting ability, and that he was able to change other beings with it. Up until now, the skill had been so underutilized that Cesare had forgotten about it. He hadn’t understood the full potential of the power that Tamlin contained. He wondered if Tamlin refrained from using his power because he feared what he could truly accomplish with it. There wasn’t a drop of sweat on Tamlin, no indication that he was exerting himself as he contorted the pixie’s form.

“I’ll talk,” Nehp choked out. “Please…stop.”

In a flash, he reverted back to normal. He collapsed on the ground, tears streaming down his face from his two remaining eyes. Coughing, he glared hatefully at Tamlin.

“Who sent you to kill me?”

“The Shadowsinger.” The pixie didn’t even try to deny what his goal had been. “On the Night Lord’s orders.”

Something in Tamlin cracked. In front of Cesare’s eyes he wilted, shoulders drooping and head hung low. He walked out of the throne room past Nehp, who cringed away from the High Lord. With a flick of his hand, Cesare indicated to his soldiers that they could take care of the pixie once and for all. One of them pulled out his sword and ran Nehp through. He died without another sound.

Cesare found Tamlin standing on the manor’s front steps. Tamlin was staring across his land with unseeing eyes.

“I haven’t done anything.” Tamlin’s voice was hoarse, as if he had been shouting. “I’ve stayed here, even when they disrespect my borders and have secret meetings on my land. I risked my life in your camp and exposed myself to save them. I even brought him back to life.” Cesare was silent, letting the full weight of the Night Court’s crimes against Tamlin sink in. Although his primary interest in the Spring Lord was power, even he was insulted on Tamlin’s behalf. The Lords of Prythian had taken advantage of Tamlin’s kindness long enough. They didn’t deserve it.

“He tried to kill me.” Tamlin spoke the words softly, as if he couldn’t quite believe them.

“He underestimated you.” Cesare stepped up beside Tamlin. “You’ve let them walk all over you. Let them believe you are weak.”

“I am weak.”

“No.” Cesare roughly grabbed Tamlin’s chin in his hand, forcing the other male to look at him. “You’ve only made yourself think you’re weak. You’ve held yourself back out of some archaic sense of morality. What I saw of you today was incredible. You hold more power in your little finger than the rest of the High Lord’s have in their whole bodies. Including Rhysand. That’s why he needs to get rid of you. He knows how much you threaten him.” Cesare practically burned with desire, both for Tamlin himself and the potential he represented.

“That wasn’t me.”

“It can be.” He pulled Tamlin in for a rough kiss. He expected the High Lord to struggle and pull away; instead, clawed hands wrapped around his neck, slicing through the collar of his tunic. Cesare didn’t care. The pure strength radiating off of Tamlin, the cruelty he had shown, made him dizzy with lust. Tamlin could reach into his chest and rip out his heart, and the king of Hybern would thank him.

“We’re going to kill them all,” Cesare murmured when he had to pull back for a breath.

Tamlin smiled against his lips. “Good.”

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #hytam #tamlin/king of hybern #tamlin #king of hybern #HERE U GO COPY #MORE HYTAM FOR U #THIS TIME THEY KITH

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