#Scales and Scoundrels

[thegreatyin]

giggling kicking my feet blushing madly

[torturingpeople]

bonus round: This thing from @thegreatyin

i accidentally locked in on an ms paint doodle so hard i made a master lineup

with a bonus marie for scale and some larger pics under the cut

[glitzbot]

more Helluva Bang art! this is a scene from @sirens-scales phenomenal stolitz regency AU: Gentleman in Need of a Scoundrel

[drchucktingle]

Mr Chuck, wizard of gay romance, I consult ye. Without knowing a damn thing about the plot of the book I'm writing other than it is gay and has themes of hunger, consumption, joy in spite of suffering, and the fleeting nature of life, how should my story end?

well to create we need to consume, this is how we produce energy and multiply and build. since beginning of time from frothing volcanos to tiny microbes CREATION and CONSUMPTION are linked. in addition an act of creation is an act of love, it is filling the empty void with SOMETHING and that is as powerful and important as it gets

i think what confuses MANY buckaroos is they get caught up by the consumption part. they see this equation i have laid out and say 'well if consuming leads to creation and creation is to point then we must consume everything as a moral imperative.' i mean HECK that is capitalism in a dang nutshell right there. if you trot this path it says the bigger fish should eat the little one, and that war and power are sort of innate. you see a lot of goofball conservative philosophers with melted brains stop here and set up shop to peddle their sad wares

THE PROBLEM IS consuming everything that you can DOES NOT ACTUALLY LEAD TO MORE CREATION IN PRACTICE. maybe sometimes in the very short term, but at the end of the dang trot it leads to destruction on a massive scale. if the biggest fish eats ALL the little fish then it is not just the little fish who dies it is BOTH of them. if you seek power through TAKING AND CONSUMING all that you can you will do more harm than good. you may puff up your chest for a little while but eventually you will go beyond your means and crumble.

consuming yields the best results when you do it in sustainable way, when you share with your neighbor, when you build a community. this is because LOVE is the best fuel and love thrives when buds work together to create a greater whole than themselves. even if you use example of TAKING through violence, ten little cave buckaroos as a team will always take down one big cave buckaroo. COMMUNITY PROVES LOVE. TEAMWORK PROVES LOVE. CONNECTION PROVES LOVE.

fortunately, as much as scoundrels want to convince us that fighting and violence and TAKING is the best way to grow as a dang species, it is not. humans thrived not because of some primal hierarchy (as goofball conservatives say) but because we started villages and societies and systems of working together. the buds who put their chips behind the BIGGEST FISH are only seeing one part of the picture. YES sometimes in the animal kingdom the biggest beast will win the fight, but that is why THEY ARE BEASTS AND WE ARE PEOPLE. we evolved to greater heights as we grew bigger brains for sharing and empathy and love and complexity. WE STARTED COMMUNITIES, BECAUSE WITHIN COMMUNITY CREATION AND LOVE THRIVE. THE 'REAL' BIGGEST FISH IS KINDNESS.

so hunger and consuming are ACTUALLY an important part of creation. they are part of bringing joy to this timeline, so long as you are not endlessly hungry even after you are full, and so long as you are not consuming what could be better shared with a bud.

hope that helps with your story buckaroo

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Ok, so normally I just...ignore creators who can't be bothered to include women, LTGBTQIA, and BIPOC authors in Fantasy Book Lists, but today I'm tired and grouchy and this goddamn video pissed me off because it's a vast majority of white dudes and their fantastical man pain. SO. I would like to just toss out some NOT white male fantasy authors because frankly I am *so tired* of white dudes retreading Tolkien and Robert Jordan forever. So let's celebrate some amazing fantasy authors who tend not to make these lists.

I'll give the author (and a book to start with).

- Mercedes Lackey (Arrows of the Queen)

- Tamora Pierce (Sandry's Book)

- Fonda Lee (Jade City)

- India Holton (The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels)

- NE Davenport (The Blood Trials)

- Naomi Novik (His Majesty's Dragon)

- Moniquill Blackgoose (To Shape A Dragon's Breath)

- CE Murphy (Urban Shaman)

- Sue Lynn Tan (Daughter of the Moon Goddess)

- Chloe Gong (These Violent Delights)

- Judy I. Lin (A Magic Steeped in Poison)

- Tasha Suri (The Jasmine Throne)

- Xiran Jay Zhao (Iron Widow)

- Jordan Ifueko (Raybearer)

- Chelsea Abdullah (The Stardust Thief)

- Tracy Deonn (Legendborn)

- Gabi Burton (Sing Me to Sleep)

- Brittany N. Williams (That Self-Same Metal)

- Juliet Marillier (Dreamer's Pool)

- Stephanie Burgis (Scales and Sensibility)

- Allison Saft (A Fragile Enchantment)

- Chloe Neill (The Bright and Breaking Sea)

- Olivia Atwater (Half a Soul)

- Heather Fawcett (Emily Wilde's Encyclopedia of Faerie)

- MA Carrick (The Mask of Mirrors)

- Kristin Cashore (Graceling)

- Marie Brennan (A Natural History of Dragons)

- Maya Ibrahim (The Spice Road)

- HM Long (Dark Water Daughter)

- Aparna Verma (The Phoenix King)

And these are just the ones I can see on my bookshelves by turning my head without moving from my chair. There are DOZENS of others who I apologize for missing and who are absolutely worth reading. If I missed one of your favorites, add it to the list with a reblog, and let's stop defaulting to filling fantasy author lists with white dudes.

[holdingfermata]

So last two months I’ve been getting close with @sirens-scales and I helped her out with her AMAZING fic “A Gentleman in Need of a Scoundrel”! It’s incredible. I’m honored to have helped a little. But I also drew a bunch of art for it!

Go read. It’s one of the things keeping me sane right now!

[salternateunreality2]

Dragon Cloud and his hype man/rider Zack:

(inspired by this post by @prokopetz <3)

Zack starting introductions before Cloud even lands, but nobody can hear him over the whooshing of the dragon, but he doesn't care because he's SO PSYCHED to tell everyone about his BEST AWESOMEST BUDDY EVER!

Zack doesn't lie, but he does speculate. Zack: Cloud could 100% probably definitely eat a whole herd of elephants if he wants to, but he never would because he's really nice... Cloud: *is nice...to Zack, definitely could eat a whole herd of elephants, doesn't want to*

Somebody looks at either of them funny, and the other is immediately up the perp's butt about it. Zack: HEY! You back off from my friend! Before I kill you :) Cloud: *fireball just over the head of someone sneaking up on Zack for an autograph*

Zack being extremely offended if someone suggests Cloud is his pet, happily embraces being Cloud's pet. Zack: I'm, like, his puppy lololol

Cloud wrapping himself around Zack like a giant personal heater and not caring that he looks absurd walking sideways like a croissant with legs because he loves his jungle puppy and his jungle puppy can't handle the cold.

"Get yo fuckin dog, bitch!" "it don't bite :)" "YES IT DO" (applies to both of them). link.

Cloud having to be persuaded with all of Zack's power not to raid dairy farms because he loves milk and all milk products, despite being lactose intolerant. Sometimes this does not work, so Zack makes him leave gold scales as payment (very valuable), then takes him far away to a quiet spot to rub the scoundrel's tummy.

Cloud dunking Zack in a lake when he needs a bath, or worse, licking him clean.

Zack scrubbing Cloud's scales for him, especially those really itchy ones, yeah, right there, yesss...

Champions of justice and badassery. And shenanigans.

Zack making ALL THE JOKES about them being each other's wingmen until Cloud snorts in his hair as a warning (that will never be followed through on).

Cloud keeps a cursory hoard, as all dragons do, and doesn't tell Zack that it doesn't matter if the hoard disappears as long as he has his true treasure (Zack).

Zack being incredibly possessive of his true treasure (Cloud), but putting on a cheery face until he has to turn it off and kick butt.

[felassan]

'Mass Effect 6 Easter Egg in Cyberpunk 2077 Phantom Liberty'

Text:

"MESSAGES > PIXEL FORTRESS The legendary Interstellar Commander series is BACK! After years of anticipation fans can once again board the Burgundy and travel at light speed to save the galaxy. But can the sixth installment of this beloved franchise still pack the same "oomph"? Or has it devolved into a lukewarm pile of "meh"? We've got the answer! Interstellar Commander 6: The Hunt for Baron Octavian still has everything that made us gush the series' previous entries. Spectacular battles on dazzling space stations? Check! Exploration of jaw-dropping exoplanets? You got it! Shocking plot twists! Affirmative! Yes, the controversial ending has been hard for some die-hard fans to swallow, but you'll have to experience it for yourself. Your mission: to track down the infamous, yet charismatic Baron Octavian who ticks all the boxes of a villain on a galactic scale. Our interaction with him largely depends on whether we go down the Paladin or the Scoundrel path. Multiple playthroughs are well worth the chance to discover the many facets of Octavian! It's just too bad the devs didn't make him into a romance option... but hey, that's what mods are for, right? Speaking of romance, we should emphasize that this adventure isn't just a rollercoaster ride of emotions, but also gives opportunities to really, erm... form deeper connections with your crewmembers and strengthen bonds with previous characters from the franchise. The popularity of a certain braindance of dubious quality and origin (relive at your own peril) which lets you find out whether the Burgundy's cannon is a worth substitute for a bed (spoiler: it isn't), leads us to believe players of all genders and tastes will be pleased. Especially given the return of all-time favorite Garriux, who hasn't lost an ounce of enthusiasm for carrying out his, ahem, calibrations... Long story short, hunting down Baron Octavian across the universe is going to be a helluva good time for all diehard fans of the series. As for you new potential players out there, how will you feel in the commander's polished space boots? Confident and capable, we hope! After all, the galaxy won't save itself!"

[source]

[wyllzel]

🔗 Link to Google Doc.

This is how I built Wyll in my Origin Wyll playthrough. This keeps Wyll in his canon Warlock class, while also ensuring he’s handy with his trusty rapier.

The vibe of this Warlock is a spellcaster (Eldritch Blast, AOE, and Enchantment spells) with good melee action. (Very gishy! 👽) The goal is to build up both Arcane Synergy and Arcane Acuity.

Leveling up is fairly flexible, so the focus for this guide is on gear interaction. Key pieces of gear include the Ring of Arcane Synergy (Act 1), Helmet of Arcane Acuity (Act 2), and Band of the Mystic Scoundrel (Act 3).

Overall, this is a fairly standard Fiend Bladelock build, and is not so much an “end all, be all” as it is a basic (but strategic!) approach.

(Fair warning: Possible spoilers ahead!)

Leveling

Please note that this guide is really just my personal preference! I recommend fully reading through the Wiki page on BG3’s Warlock so you get a good idea of what this class can do. In this guide, I’ve added a star (⭐) next to each of the class features or spells that I especially like.

To start with, this is my Wyll’s base stats:

Since Pact of the Blade Warlock’s “Bind Pact Weapon” feature scales weapon Attack Rolls and Damage Rolls off your spellcasting modifier, I recommend heavily prioritizing Charisma. The Warlock class becomes very SAD (Single Ability Dependent) with Charisma which is very convenient.

I prioritized Dexterity after Charisma because your Dexterity modifier affects your Initiative – and the higher your Initiative, the easier it is to get a leg up in combat. Additionally, your Dexterity modifier is added to your AC (when wearing Robes or Light Armor, which this build will be utilizing).

The next prioritized stat is Constitution, which is good for maintaining Concentration spells as well as boosting your total HP.

Level 1

One Level 1 Warlock Spell slot

Select:

Subclass: The Fiend

Two Cantrips: ELDRITCH BLAST 💥, Minor Illusion ⭐

Two Warlock spells (Level 1): Hellish Rebuke, Command

The Fiend subclass gives you:

Dark One’s Blessing (Temporary bonus HP when you kill a hostile creature)

Access to the Spells: Burning Hands, Command

Eldritch Blast genuinely solves any and all problems. (Force Damage is especially good in BG3, where 99% of your enemies do not have Force Resistance.) And Minor Illusion is a really good utility spell – especially if you’re into barrelmancy and need a safe and reliable method to cluster enemies.

The added HP from Dark One’s Blessing is really good, especially in earlier levels (Act 1) when your party is extremely squishy.

Level 2

Two Level 1 Warlock Spell slots

Select:

Eldritch Invocations: Agonizing Blast, Repelling Blast ⭐

One Warlock Spell (Level 1): Armour of Agathys

Replace a Spell: N/A

Level 3

Improved Warlock Spell Slots: Warlock Spells are now Level 2

Select:

Pact Boon: Pact of the Blade

One Warlock Spell (Level 2): Cloud of Daggers

Replace a Spell: Armour of Agathys → Hold Person

Level 4

Select:

Feat: Ability Improvement (ASI) = +1 CHA, +1 DEX ⭐

One Cantrip: Mage Hand

One Warlock Spell (Level 2): Shatter

Replace a Spell: N/A

Level 5

Deepened Pact: Pact of the Blade → Gain an Extra Attack with your weapon ⭐

Scaling Cantrips (ie., Eldritch Blast fires an additional beam) ⭐

Improved Warlock Spell Slots: Warlock Spells are now Level 3

Select:

One Eldritch Invocation: Devil’s Sight ⭐

One Warlock Spell (Level 3): Hunger of Hadar ⭐

Replace a Spell: Hellish Rebuke → Counterspell

The Fiend subclass gives you:

Access to the Spells: Fireball, Stinking Cloud

Level 6

Select:

One Warlock Spell (Level 3): Fireball

Replace a Spell: N/A

The Fiend subclass gives you:

Dark One’s Own Luck: Add +1d10 to an Ability Check once per Short Rest

Level 7

Improved Warlock Spell Slots: Warlock Spells are now Level 4

Select:

One Warlock Spell (Level 4): Banishment

Replace a Spell: Cloud of Daggers → Wall of Fire

Eldritch Invocation: Armour of Shadows ⭐

Armor of Shadows is excellent if you’re wearing robes. Because you’ll probably be wearing the Potent Robe at this point (early Act 2), this Invocation is particularly useful.

Level 8

Select:

Feat: ASI +2 to Charisma

One Warlock Spell (Level 4): Fear

Replace a Spell: N/A

Alternative Feats:

You may want to consider Alert to get the jump on enemies, especially when playing in Honor Mode. 

War Caster is a good idea if you plan to lean heavily on Concentration Spells such as Hunger of Hadar or Wall of Fire. 

Another good Feat for Concentration Spells is Resilient, which you’d take for Constitution. However, your initial Ability Score numbers would probably look different than how I have mine set up!

Spell Sniper is fun if you plan to lean heavily on Attack Roll spells – like Eldritch Blasts!

Level 9

Improved Warlock Spell Slots: Warlock Spells are now Level 5

Select:

One Warlock Spell (Level 5): Hold Monster ⭐

Replace a Spell: N/A

Eldritch Invocation: Life Drinker ⭐

Hold Monster is extremely useful in Act 3, where a lot of the major bosses you face (Orin in her Slayer form, Raphael, etc.) are Monsters.

Level 10

Scaling Cantrips (ie., Eldritch Blast fires an additional beam) ⭐

Select:

One Warlock Spell (Level 5): Flame Strike

Replace a Spell: N/A

The Fiend subclass gives you:

Fiendish Resilience: Once per Short Rest, choose a Damage Type to become Resistant to

Level 11

Gain an additional Warlock Spell slot (for a total of 3 Warlock Spell slots)

Select:

One Warlock Spell (Level 5): Cone of Cold

Mystic Arcanum: Eyebite

Any of the Mystic Arcanum spells are good, though! I just find that Arcane Gate, Circle of Death, and Flesh to Stone are only useful situationally. Create Undead is good for summons-focused teams.

Level 12

Select:

Feat: ASI +2 to Dexterity, or see Level 8.

One Warlock Spell (Level 5): Blight

Replace a Spell: N/A

Eldritch Invocation: One With Shadows

Final Composition

By Level 12, Wyll can have the following notable qualities:

Three Level 5 Warlock Spell slots 

One Level 6 Warlock Spell that can be used once per Long Rest

Three Damage die on Damaging Warlock cantrips – AKA three bolts of Eldritch Blast for 3d10+5 Damage (the +5 applies to each Blast bolt)

An Extra Attack (Weapon) from Pact of the Blade

Spells List and Invocations

Note: Scaling Cantrips (Level 5, Level 10) is based on your overall caster level rather than your Warlock level. As such, if you multiclass Wyll with a class like Bard or Paladin, he’ll still get the fully scaled three bolts per Eldritch Blast at Level 10.

Gear

The goal of this gear selection is to maximize the effectiveness of Wyll’s spells – particularly Enchantment spells. With the Band of the Mystic Scoundrel, Enchantment spells can be cast as a Bonus Action. Without this Band, Wyll generally won't be doing much with his Bonus Action as a Warlock – so let's fix that!

To align with his backstory, Wyll should be a formidable swordsman as well as spellcaster. As such, the weaponry in this build enhances his spellcasting, and ensures that his spellcasting enhances his sword fighting as well. (Synergizing!!!)

Headwear: Helmet of Arcane Acuity

Battle Acuity: Whenever you deal damage with a weapon attack, you gain Arcane Acuity (+1 to Spell Attack Rolls and Spell Save DC) for 2 turns.

+1 to Dexterity Saving Throws

Armor: Elegant Studded Leather

14 AC + Dexterity Modifier (18 AC)

+2 to Initiative Rolls

Can cast Shield once per Short Rest

Alternatively, you can use the Potent Robe and cast Armour of Shadows to bump your AC. However, you cannot wear the Helmet of Arcane Acuity if you do so (the helmet qualifies as Light Armor, meaning it cannot be used simultaneously with Armour of Shadows). If you’d like to use the Potent Robe instead, an alternative headwear is the Diadem of Arcane Synergy.

However, I wouldn't recommend the Potent Robe for a Fiend Warlock once you get the Elegant Studded Leather or an equivalent Light Armor. This is because the Potent Robe's added temporary HP (equal to your Warlock's Charisma Modifier) overrides the Dark One's Blessing, which will grant your Warlock temporary HP equal to your Warlock's Charisma Modifier plus your Warlock's Level.

Cloak: Cloak of the Weave

Arcane Enchantment: Gain a +1 bonus to Spell Save DC and Spell Attack Rolls.

Absorb Elements: Absorb elemental damage once per Short Rest. Take half damage from the next elemental attack targeting you, and deal an additional 1d6 of that element type on your next attack.

Alternatively, if you expect Wyll to regularly be in melee range, I’d recommend the Cloak of Protection (defensive, +1 to AC) or Thunderskin Cloak (offensive, pairs well with the Spineshudder Amulet). 

The Nymph Cloak pairs well with the Band of the Mystic Scoundrel.

Handwear: Daredevil Gloves

+1 to Spell Attack Rolls

Daredevil Proximity: Can make Ranged Spell Attack Rolls as Melee Spell Attack Rolls

For boosting the effectiveness of Eldritch Blasting! Alternatively, the Gloves of Battlemage’s Power would be perfect for this build, but apparently they’re currently bugged (as of Feb. 20, 2024, Hotfix #18).

The Spellmight Gloves, Quickspell Gloves, Gemini Gloves, and Helldusk Gloves are also interesting options.

Footwear: Helldusk Boots

Ignores Difficult Terrain

Cannot be forcibly moved by spells or actions

Use a reaction to succeed on a Saving Throw

Hellcrawler: Teleport to an area and deal 2d8 Fire Damage upon landing in a 3m/10ft zone

Utilizing infernal gear is very synergetic with Wyll’s story. However, these boots are good for characters who want to move into melee range. Alternative teleportation boots include the Disintegrating Night Walkers or the Spaceshunt Boots.

Additionally, the Boots of Stormy Clamour pair well with the Spineshudder Amulet.

Amulet: Spineshudder Amulet

Inflict Reverberation when you deal Damage with a Ranged Spell Attack

Eldritch Blasts are Ranged Spell Attacks. :)

Ring A: Ring of Arcane Synergy

Synergetic Cantrip: When you deal damage with a Cantrip, you gain Arcane Synergy for 2 turns

When you have Arcane Synergy, your Weapon Attacks deal additional damage equal to your Spell Casting Ability Modifier. This makes a lot of sense since Wyll’s highest stat should be Charisma (aka his Spell Casting Ability Modifier), and because Wyll will probably be Eldritch Blasting (Cantrip) a lot.

Ring B: Band of the Mystic Scoundrel

Illusion Quickening: After hitting a creature with a Weapon Attack, you can cast Illusion or Enchantment spells as a Bonus Action

This item is why this build prioritizes Enchantment spells! Otherwise, the only thing Wyll can really do with his Bonus Action in combat is chug a potion (or teleport), haha.

Melee Main Hand: Infernal Rapier

High Spellcasting: +1 to Spell Save DC

Planar Ally: Cambion (Summon a Cambion as an ally)

However, being able to Bind Pact Weapon via Pact of the Blade means Wyll can wield any weapon in the game! So this slot is very flexible depending on the encounter. I favor the Infernal Rapier for the +1 to Spell Save DC and the RP value.

Melee Off Hand: Viconia’s Walking Fortress

Rebuke of the Mighty: When a foe hits you with a melee attack, you can use a Reaction to deal 2-8 Force damage and possibly knock them Prone

Spellguard: You have Advantage on Saving Throws against spells; Spell Attack Rolls against you have Disadvantage 

Swires’ Sledboard is also interesting for potential Force damage. Ketheric’s Shield is good for casters in general (+1 Spell Save DC and +1 to Spell Attack Rolls), although I usually have this shield on my party’s Wizard (Gale).

Ranged Main Hand: Darkfire Shortbow

Grants Resistance to both Fire and Cold Damage

Can cast Haste as a Level 3 spell once per Long Rest

This weapon slot is less important since Wyll will be Eldritch Blasting if he needs to make a single-target Ranged Attack. The only reason he might be using a Ranged Weapon is if he’s Silenced.

As such, it’s nice to just benefit from this bow’s passives. With Fiendish Resilience, Wyll can potentially have four Resistances at once in (very late) Act 2 – Fire and Cold from the Darkfire Shortbow, Necrotic from Selûne’s Blessing, and another from Fiendish Resilience.

Additionally, an emergency Haste is great to have on the backburner.

The Bow of Awareness is another such bow that grants a useful passive (+1 to Initiative).

Ranged Off Hand: N/A

Number Crunching

If you’ve followed the above gearing, you should have 20 AC on Wyll. Hooray!

The following table should give you an idea of how Wyll performs on the battlefield as a result of his gear synergy.

Because this Warlock build has a lot of flexibility in what it can do (#gishy 👽), it’s hard to say how much damage Wyll can regularly dole out. However, in an ideal world, Wyll can take the following actions to get the most out of his gear:

Combat Round #1

Cast Eldritch Blast on three separate enemies, inflicting Reverberation on each and gaining Arcane Synergy.

Combat Round #2

Land a Weapon Attack (which uses Arcane Synergy) on an enemy, gaining Arcane Acuity.

Use Bonus Action to cast Hold Person or Hold Monster.

Land a Weapon Attack (which uses Arcane Synergy) on the held enemy; this Attack is automatically a Critical Hit.

Conclusion

Of course, this is just one way to class Wyll (or a general Warlock)! I prioritized thematic gearing over pure Damage output, so there are definitely ways to get this build even more powerful. For example, Wyll would probably be ethically opposed to using the Bhaalist Armor even though it would greatly enhance his rapier attacks. 

As an aside, there’s a funny bug with Warlock’s Pact of the Blade Extra Attack – in Explorer, Balanced, and Tactician, this Extra Attack adds to (instead of overlaps with) any Extra Attack you get from another class. 

So instead of having an Attack and Extra Attack like most other martial classes, the Lockadin gets an Attack, an Extra Attack, and an extra Extra Attack, for three Attacks total, LOL. (This bug is unfortunately resolved in Honor Mode.) Subsequently, the Pact of the Blade is a great multiclass with martial classes, but especially a Paladin (5 Warlock / 7 Paladin). 😁

Additionally, a lot of this gear is also excellent on a College of Swords Bard (another Charisma-based gish type). To that end, it may not be a good idea to have both a Bard and Warlock on the same team, as they’ll be fighting for the gear listed here.

Thanks for reading, and hope this gave you some ideas for your Warlock builds! :)

[hantengus-fuckass-clones]

Hey bbg 🤪😊😊😊😍😍 can you do a hantengu (all of them) x the classical fem!maid reader? 🥺🥺🥺

Reader is a maid in their mansion and the demons are disguising themselves (modern times) as muzan finds that damn lily. They have a business meeting at their home with some perv who makes comments abt them and the main four oopsie doodle him kill 🥰🥰. It's a yandere and a bit of spicy 😍😍

Of course pookie here you go, just as a forewarning I don’t really do yandere as I’m not too comfortable writing such. (I think I forgot to write that in my request rules but I will update it soon) but for now I will try my best. Anyway on with the request.

The sound of small footsteps swiftly made their way through the corridors or the large scale mansion, they belonged to none other then Zohakuten as he made his way to the main meeting room and trailing no less then three steps behind him was the beloved maid of the manor (y/n). All seven members of the manor loved their darling maid from the moment she rang the doorbell looking for a job, she found it odd that they would always request her presence during the meetings but she was also smart enough to not question her bosses.

Both people stood before the door to the meeting room and (y/n) quickly moved to open it for the young master, his eyes flickering to her nodding in a quiet thanks. She had known the people of the manor long enough to discern what they actually ment from certain looks and body language, the boy simply always looked angry and was indeed thankful. She nodded back at him and followed close behind, shutting the door as she went and stood guard beside the door as she watched Zohakuten take his seat at the table thus beginning the meeting.

(Y/N)’s POV

I tried my best to pay attention to the meeting but part of me believes they were using complicated words so that I wouldn’t understand what they were talking about. Anyway I had other things to worry about like what I was going to cook for dinner and more importantly the looks that their business partner was giving me. I carefully flicked my gaze to the others in the room, trying to discern what they were thinking about, it seems that Aizetsu, Hantengu and Sekido were doing the majority of the talking while the others watched on in boredom. I watched as Zohakuten and Urami caught the guy staring at me on multiple occasions, coughing into their hands to get his attention, both looked equally as pissed everytime they caught him and it was clear that his not so subtle comments about me and my body were grating on everyone nerves. Even Hantengu, as meek and nervous as he was, was beginning to furrow his brows at the man. At long last the meeting was over and I was quickly allowed to leave the room, I wasn’t going to be told twice, bowing before leaving the room as quickly but respectively as possible.

Zohakuten’s POV

We all watched as our beloved (y/n) scurried out of the room, it was obvious that she was disturbed by the disgusting looks and words that this scoundrel has befallen her. The moment she was out of the room he started again, proclaiming that we were lucky to have such a gorgeous girl as our maid and if he had her, he would have taken her innocence by now. Sekido and Urami gripped the table in anger at his words while Urogi and Karaku’s faces held an uncommon frown. The silence in the room that followed was palpable as the man began to realise that no one was agreeing with him. He let out an awkward chuckle before trying to excuse himself only to be quickly blocked by Urami who had shot up out of his seat and blocked the door. The disgusting cretin backed up into Sekido who grabbed his arms and held them behind his back as Urami instructed the four young boys to dispose of the man before he, Hantengu and I left the room in search of our beloved maid.

(Y/N)’s POV

I finished cooking tonights dinner as I put the big pot to simmer and backed away, wiping my brow and jumping slightly as a hand grasped the sleeve of my maid dress. Looking down, I see Zohakuten looking as angry as usual but there are more furrows in his brow and they look intentional which means he truly is angry. “Young master whatever has gotten you in such a fluster?” I kept my tone soft, like that of an older sister as Zohakuten lets out a sneer (visibly not aimed at me) before responding. “That filthy man and his words did not go unnoticed by any of us, to see you so uncomfortable, it angers my soul. The others are equally angered and those four are taking care of that filth so you don’t have to worry anymore.” As he spoke, I felt another hand grip the opposite sleeve of my dress, I needn’t look down to see who it was as the shaking of the hand told me that it was Hantengu. “H-His words were horrible and that look in his eyes…. Truly disgusting.” He managed to eep out as i bought my hand up to stroke his head, trying to comfort him. My body tensed slightly as another pair of hands snuck their way around my waist as a rather large head rested atop mine, Urami had made his presence known as Zohakuten backed off to walk away, not before placing a small kiss to my forehead after some reaching upwards. Now having my other arm fully free, I pull Hantegu fully into my embrace unintentionally pushing his face into my chest. He lets out a small eep and I let him go, thinking i was suffocating him somehow, I feel a hard kiss on top of my head as Urami backed away, taking Hantengu with him as I was left alone in the kitchen.

It wasn’t long before multiple sets of hurried feet were heard through the corridors as four figures ran through the kitchen door, all four of the boys in varying states of bloody. I didn’t have time to react as the chipper of the four, Urogi, flung himself at me and wrapped his arms around me as he pulled me into his embrace. Peppering my face with kisses, he mumbled how they got rid of that nasty man and I would be safe once more before feeling another body slide up behind my own, cheekily pressing their groin against the flush of my ass. Karaku murmured in my ear as Aizetsu took my hand, peppering kisses up and down my arm while Sekido stood off to the side as if waiting for his turn, I held my other hand out to him as he took it, moving himself towards me in a slightly aggressive manner before planting his lips against my neck, kissing up and down as if he was trying to get rid of his anger and stress. Not long after this, the four boys begrudgingly peeled themselves away from me as they each placed a kiss to my lips in varying stages of aggression before stalking off to do whatever. Leaving me with a blush on my face as I giggle to myself and turn back to the dinner.

Sorry if this wasn’t as spicy as you wanted, you asked for slightly spicy so I didn’t really do much but I will deffo be doing more spicy shit as I continue to write

[whereishoney]

working on a little something something for a certain There Are Monsters Nearby by uhohbestie on ao3. that fic is my lover, I fear. I think about it every single day and I have since May

OH UH SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER... 21 AND MOVING FORWARDS!!!

hopefully I'll finish this before the fic ends!!!!! only then will I tag them. if this somehow lands on their front desk before then, well I suppose it was fate. lock and key, you scoundrels, invading my brain like this. so so unfairrrr

also I'm realising hours later that all the bgs are scaled incorrectly 😭 I HATE CSP SO BAD. IT'S SO FINNICKY. IT'S THE WORST. I'm learning to identify and work around these stupid nuances instead of avoiding them because they seem unavoidable. everyone, for my sanity, let's pretend it looks fine, and perhaps soon I will upload an updated wip with correctly scaled backgrounds.

[thegreatyin]

Fallen london magnus archives au

everything is worse in almost every way

i know literally nothing about tma but i support this

[meltingpenguins]

WoW Fanfic: Heroes and Other Scoundrels (SneakPeek)

There, I started writing that rebirth AU with Neltharion and Malygos. Canon Divergence/Semi-Canon-Compliable/Blizzard doesn't care about it's lore so why should I.

Below are the first 2500 words, please read and let me know if I ought to actually continue this endeavour. Thank you.

Story starts around the time of Dalaran going boom, for reference.

Warnings: Depression, Violence.

Heroes and other Scoundrels

Prologue: A Song for the Living

The rain was coming down hard.

There'd be flooding along the river to the south, and it wasn't unlikely that some bits or the cliffs north of Stormwind would get washed away.

Wind was howling and thunder was crashing, with no pause before it followed the myriads of lightning that illuminated the night.

There was a forest by the cliffs, it's trees bending and swaying violently in the raging storm, branches cracking and breaking.

One such branch the size of a horse's hindquarters broke jut as another lightning flashed, plunging to the ground.

Below, on the forest floor a large, stocky figure rolled out of the way just in time, that lightning outlining the falling mass having been a blessing in disguise.

Neltharion gasped and coughed, trying to push his human form off the muddy ground, just barely finding the strength to roll back onto his back, blinking blearily into the rain, his chest heaving with rattling breaths.

What was going on? Where was he? Why was he here?

Shouldn't he be dead?

Dead-dead at that? No take-backs, no try-agains, no second chances?

Yet here he was.

Most certainly alive, his heart beating in his throat, and the rain soaking through his clothes.

Everything hurt.

Not the familiar pain of his body falling apart, bloating and bursting at the seams. No. This was a new kind of pain, one that made his head spin and his stomach turn, yet…

He felt as if it was the pain of flesh and bones and muscles and scales knitting themselves back together the best they could, as if his body was genuinely healing for the first time in millennia.

What was going on?

He blinked again, a shudder running through his body, and, coughing, he tried once more to sit up, succeeding…

And immediately throwing up.

Pure stomach acid, his throat now sore from that and the coughing both.

Shaking and shivering he pulled his knees up, breathing as slowly as he could, trying to calm and focus.

His armor was gone, leaving him in his scaled shirt, pants and plain boots. His hair was more disheveled than ever, long strands caked with mud clinging to his face. He rose a hand, tucking them behind his ear, and frowned, running the hand over his mouth to wipe away bile.

And he paused, startled.

The metal jaw was gone. Not just the facsimile he was sporting in his Visage, but the actual one holding the sorry remains his jaw together. He could — or, well, couldn't — feel it.

With unsteady hands he reached back and felt under his shirt, along his spine.

The metal plates where still there. All of them even, it would seem.

What was going on?

He shook his head, hissing when the stinging pain of a migraine spread outward from his temples. Maybe he should —

"No. No, no, no! Not you. Not. You!" A voice, uncomfortably familiar, howled in rage, despair and agony. Neltharion didn't even manage to turn to look for the speaker when a blur of blue and white tackled him over, his assailant whaling on him with fists and claw-like nails.

He struggled— mostly to even just find the strength to fight back, to defend himself— the figure going to town on him screeching and cursing and damning his name.

A particular nasty punch and Neltharion felt his nose and cheekbone break, blood gushing out, its warmth mixing strangely with the cold rain.

He gasped, bringing up an arm finally to try and ward off the next blow, but the figure straddling his chest stopped, lowering their fist, their entire frame slumping with hiccuping sobs.

Another flash of lightning revealed the assailant's identity.

"Malygos?" the black dragon croaked, coughing out blood and spit.

Malygos glared, teeth bared, his frame still shaking.

"It should not have been you," he spat, staggering to his feet. "Had I known… It should not have been you. Never. I would not have allowed it."

"…what?" Neltharion managed, confused and disoriented.

Malygos turned to go, giving him a kick to the side for good measure.

"You should not be here," he snarled, heading deeper into the forest.

"Malygos… wait," the black dragon managed, voice cracking with anger, confusion and… guilt. Sorrow. Regret.

Malygos paused at a massive oak.

"Do everyone a favor, old friend," he hissed. "There's some cliffs nearby, go jump off them. Pull up some spiky rocks and make it count this time."

And he was gone, leaving Neltharion to his own thoughts and the elements.

~+~

Malygos stalked through the dark forest, furious and despairing.

That was not how it was meant to go. Sure, he had cast that blasted spell in a bit of a panic, but still, this was not how it was supposed to go.

Or maybe it was.

No, no, no, don't even think that. Because if the spell had worked as intended, no matter how haphazardly thrown together it may have been, that would mean that…

Malygos let out an aggravated roar, blasting a nearby tree into oblivion.

Promptly regretting it as the falling twigs and branches (thankfully no big ones) rained down on him. He sighed heavily, bravado and rage fading, and he looked around. He needed to find shelter and recover.

Stormwind was many miles to the south from here, but he doubted he'd actually be safe there. Not with other dragons frequenting the city. Fuck's sake, all things considered he'd have been safer in that city while Onyxia was pulling the strings there than now. Maybe if he'd don a different visage, but he didn't feel like he had the energy right now to mask anything but his eyes.

Pulling twigs from his air he took a deep breath, casting a small spell to guide him to a safe hearth.

The wisp-like light flickered and pulsed, flying off deeper into the forest. And away from the city.

Malygos followed.

The light dissipated at the edge of a clearing. There was a dirt road running through it, and beyond the path stood several large wooden structures: a stable, a building Malygos couldn't name what it was, and the two-storied main-building, which a wooden sign swinging nearby identified as 'Crowing Whelp Tavern & Inn'.

Well, this was in the middle of nowhere, but the building looked to be in good shape, and light was burning in the ground floor windows.

Though it didn't look as if the tavern was actually open.

But Malygos had to try at least.

Another deep breath, mask his eyes, and he hurried through the rain, slipping on the muddy ground twice.

Dirty and even more exhausted he knocked.

The door opened, and Malygos came face to face with a middle-aged, tall, well-built human with jet-black hair and a short beard, both streaked with white, dark tawny skin and several scars, a large one over his right eye.

Latter made Malygos hiss, reminding him a little too much of Neltharion right now.

But the man's eyes were of a warm, burnt amber color, looking at him very confused, but friendly and curious. And quite a bit worried.

"Gracious, man, you're soaked," the man said, pulling him into the building and navigating him into a chair by the roaring fireplace. "What happened? Are you alri-"

The man paused and looked Malygos over, gaze fixing on the blue one's hands. "You're injured, let me see to that."

Before Malygos could protest the man had ducked out of the room, and the dragon took the opportunity to actually look at himself and assess the situation.

His armor was gone, his robe caked with dirt and blood, and he was soaked and freezing. A sensation he hadn't felt in centuries. And his hand hurt. He reckoned he must have broken it when he was taking his rightful anger out on Deathwing.

"I can lend you some clothes, your's are in no state to be worn," the man noted, returning with a bowl of water, towels and bandages, kneeling down before Malygos. "May I see your hand?"

Malygos hemmed and hawed a little, figuring that this was the best choice. Not just to uphold the facade of being a harmless (though very foolish) traveler, it would also help conserve energy. Energy which he felt almost fully deprived of.

He held out his hand and the man gently took it, starting to carefully clean away the bloody. Malygos winced briefly. Apparently the hand wasn't just broken, but it wasn't just Deathwing's blood on it.

"Sorry," the man apologized.

"No… no need to. You did nothing wrong."

The man flashed him a brilliant smile which shifted into a bit of a cocky grin.

"You're a dragon, aren't you?"

Malygos blinked, alarmed. Had he failed to hide his eyes? Was his low energy revealing scales? Horns?

"…How?" he managed, blinking again.

The man carefully turned the dragon's hand around.

"You always forget the fingerprints," he chuckled, and Malygos cocked his head.

"Huh?" He raised his good hand and took a closer look. Oh.

"Huh," Malygos went again, murmuring a little sourly. "I… have to admit I was hitherto unaware my spell actually forwent that."

The man chuckled.

"And now you've given away who you are, Spell-Weaver."

Malygos sighed.

"Well, not anymore, I…"

"Oh, if you're going to start about that Kalecgos guy, don't." The man blew a raspberry. "You are you, and to my knowledge the lad is bending his knee to the Kirin Tor. What self-respecting mage does that?"

Malygos snorted a laugh.

"I should be angry at you for chiding one of my flight, but I do delight in your sentiment against those braggarts."

"I'll forward your words to my partner." The man gave a brilliant smile again, carefully wrapping up the injury.

"Oh? Why?"

"He's quite a skilled mage, and loves to ramble on about those thing, too. He wholehearted shares your sentiment regarding the Kirin Tor's Holier-Than-Thou-ness."

"I see. Though he does remember the whole bit about what I tried to…"

"He does, and he similarly loves to ramble about the math not mathing in that whole Nexus War mess."

Malygos blinked, falling silent.

There was that, yes. And it was weird. He knew what he had done, and why, but… it didn't add up, thinking about it now. Even if the Old Gods had gotten into his head there and everything, it felt… Something was off. Something felt… missing. Like a verse being omitted from a song you know by heart, yet everyone will insist the song's complete.

"Your partner seems like an formidable person," the blue dragon mumbled, carefully rubbing his injured hand.

"He is. He's one of the best things that ever happened to me," the man answered, blushing a little, before he held out his hand with a grin. "Henry Sullivan, by the way. Pleasure to meet you."

Malygos took the offered hand, a smirk flitting over his lips.

"You don't seem to be scared of me, Mr. Sullivan."

Henry waved him off. "I reckon that if you are back from the dead, looking like that, and you haven't burned my tavern to the ground yet I can trust you. One has to set simple standards and priorities, y'know."

Again Malygos snorted a laughed, and Henry rose to his feet.

"Can I offer you some tea?"

"That'd be very kind of you, thank you."

Henry nodded and ducked into the kitchen, and Malygos looked around.

It was your typical small tavern with rooms for rent upstairs, probably also some living quarters for Sullivan and his partner. Not that the blue dragon could sense anyone else in the building, which was probably the reason why the tavern wasn't open.

"Mr. Sullivan?" Malygos called.

"Yes?"

"I assume your partner is absent?"

"He is. Went up to Ironforge to do some research on things. Do you take sugar?"

"Yes, please."

There was a brief cackle, and Henry returned from the kitchen with a mug of steaming tea, handing it over.

"Here you go. It's too late to get you a bath ready, but that can wait till tomorrow. I think you need to rest."

Malygos nodded, sipping his tea, and looking out the window.

The storm seemed to be getting worse by the second, and would probably go well into the morning.

"Copper for your thoughts?" Henry said, pulling up a chair to sit opposite the blue dragon. "You look like there's something weighing heavy on your mind, and if I may take a guess it isn't wondering about how you are back amongst the living."

"Very astute, Mr. Sullivan."

"Thank you."

Malygos sighed softly.

"No it's… Well it has something to do with that though. I'm not certain you'd understand what happened."

"Well, I can guess that you know why and how you're back, I don't need to understand the rest. But if you think you shouldn't be back…"

With another sigh Malygos shook his head.

"It's not that. It's… I'm just very exhausted."

"I can see that. Guess coming back to life does that to one." Henry rose again, and patted Malygos's shoulder. "You finish your tea, warm up a bit and I get you a room ready."

A nod, and the blue one watched the human hurry up the nearby stairs.

Clutching the mug like a lifeline, Malygos stared into the flames.

Try as he may, he could only think of two options that would explain what happened: Either the spell he had cast all those years ago went wrong and brought back who Malygos had thought could help… Or the spell worked as intended, which would mean…

Thunder rattled the windows, and Malygos felt as if someone was kicking his behind to screw his head back on right.

This wasn't right. He didn't want this to be right. But for crying out loud, no matter what he told himself, he knew that spell had worked as intended. No matter how recently he had become the Aspect of Magic back then, no matter of thrown-together the spell was, he knew it worked exactly as intended.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

He groaned and downed his tea, drawing a deep breath and getting up.

"Mr. Sullivan?" he called, hurrying to the stairs. "Mr. Sullivan?"

"Yes?" Henry peered around the corned at the top of the stairs.

"Could I…" Malygos paused, mentally slapping himself both for doing what he was about to do, and for not just doing it. "Could I borrow a cloak and a lantern… There's… There's something I need to do. Posthaste."

Henry blinked baffled, but didn't ask.

"Alright? Are you sure? You don't look to be in a state to be out and about, dragon or not."

"I-I have to," Malygos pressed through gritted teeth, and Henry nodded, coming back down and waving him to follow to the kitchen.

"Here," he said, handing over a hooded oilskin cloak and taking a lantern off the hook. "Give me a moment to refill this."

While Henry rummaged through the cupboards, Malygos's gaze shifted to the hooks with the cloaks. There was another one hanging there, and Malygos drew a deep breath.

"Could I borrow that cloak as well?" he asked, words almost blurring together with how quickly he forced them out.

"Sure…?" Henry cocked his head, curiously. "I know I shouldn't ask but… Is this something that will require a second bed to be prepared?"

Malygos grumbled and stared off into the distance.

"Unfortunately."

Henry smirked, pressing the lantern into his hands.

"Then go. And hurry, the storm's getting worse and the tide's rolling in."

Malygos nodded, donned the cloak and hurried out into the night.

~+~

[nerdieforpedro]

The Lake Between Us - Part Two

The Solitary Captain’s Circumstances

Ezra AU x plus size OFC (Nickname Moonbeam - has a name in later parts)

This fic is for those 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 945

Warnings: crime, heist, police involved shooting, death, Ezra being cute also disturbed, anxiety, PTSD, alcohol, fire, nightmares, voyeurism,

Notes: We’re continuing to introduce our lovely pair. It’s Ezra side of things. How he got to where he is now and what he may be dealing with. My bad Ezra, he is a very haunted pookie. I left him his other arm so something had to go. 👀 I might be a tad deranged.

Main Masterlist/ Ezra Masterlist/ The Lake Between Us Series

Ezra used to be able to sleep anywhere. It was a necessity of maybe having a life that was outside of the conventions of society. He needed adequate rest to be able to plan, scheme and think. That period of his life is over, he’s had his large paydays and invested the money in his home, his airboat which he does some tours occasionally and in his charge Cee. She was an unforeseen variable at the end of a heist fifteen years ago with her father Damon. The dim-witted sod hadn’t fully grasped the escape plan that was gone over thrice in detail leading to him being on the wrong end of the police’s overzealous shooting. The man’s light was snuffed out in a violent instant.

His death allowed for the crew’s escape and for them to sort out which of their band of scoundrels would care for a wee human of four years old. Arguments ensued so Ezra suggested a completely diplomatic and fair way would be to draw straws. “The smallest straw gets the short stack.” He recalled stating. He always overestimated his luck in these situations and had the shortest straw. Since he had proposed the idea, he couldn’t back out. Thus began his journey with the child Cee.

Things were tenuous at first but they worked out she’s to call him ‘Uncle’ or Mr. Ezra. It worked better in social situations and she became his little ‘Birdie.’ Scaling down the jobs he took on to mitigate risk was a challenge and were worth less but he had to live not only for himself now. The pair moved around some before he enrolled her in school in Louisiana but ensured that he taught her when she came home in the evenings and on the weekends. The child hated the extra lesions, but it enabled her to be leagues ahead of her peers as far as studies went. Ezra was determined not to suffer another fool and would do what he could so that Cee wouldn’t follow in her father’s steps of idiocy. The results of his care, diligence and support was realized at both her high school graduation which he had never imagined attending anyone’s graduation except his own and to travel with his charge to see the college she’d chosen.

Cee was away studying at Columbia University as she’d gotten a full scholarship with room and board on her own merits. Ezra did not have much to hang any pride on as he viewed it a way to a quick death but he couldn’t help but feel well pleased that he’d had some part in her success.

His charge would write and call, which he’d accept, not letting on how happy he was that she’d call. On the last break, Cee visited with her girlfriend Zora and they stayed at his home. The young woman he’d raised expressed concern about the circles under his eyes and his unfocused eyes. Ezra denied her claims stating, “I am fine my sweet Bird. It’s something you’ll encounter when you reach the privilege of middle age Birdie. This weariness of life. I will find my way through it and gallop to the other side.” She shook her head and laughed him off as the three spent time together and Ezra drove them to the airport. It was rare that they embraced but it felt appropriate as he knew it would be a while yet before he saw his little Bird again.

It was roughly a month ago that he first saw the striking vision that was across his lake.

He’s come out to his porch after spraying on some bug repellent. He brought out his whiskey and glass. He had closed his eyes and was confronted with the scars that remained on his soul. He’d long thought that he rationalized them away. It was part of the life he once lived but not now. The still eyes and distorted features that he saw through the fire… “Dammit to hell. The shit’s still there. It was for a reason, there were reasons behind all of it, why must I recall that now?” His fingers massaged his temple as he poured his first glass of the night. He quickly swallowed the alcoholic elixir and peered up at the moon. It was full tonight and dancing across the small waves on the lake’s surface.

A moonbeam. It’s the first thing he thought of when he saw her. She was wearing a white nightgown - if he had to guess cotton with a thin robe about her shoulders that she decided to slip off. That’s a good choice, it’s a bit warm out tonight. Her hair is under a purple bonnet which she removes as well and sets it on top of the robe, both are on the back of her rocking chair. Black voluminous hair fell around her shoulders, it looked pillowy to the touch like the rest of its owner. Her substantial legs carried her to a small table beside her where she lit a candle. The minimal light makes her face glow. He can make out full lips, round cheeks and bright eyes behind her glasses. She eases down into her rocking chair and pours herself a brown liquid that looks similar to his and orange juice maybe? Well she could be one for mixed drinks. He wonders why she would be up at this ungodly hour drinking? She couldn’t have similar demons to him could she? Maybe some unknown or known fears? Could she be separating herself from someone inside the home?

Ezra is left with many questions and no answers. This does not please him.

Part One Part Three

Taste-testers of Ezra’s gumbo 🍤: @rav3n-pascal22 @maggiemayhemnj @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @bonezone44 @magpiepillsjunior @yorksgirl @gemmahale @missredherring @missladym1981 @alltheglitterandtheroar @megamindsecretlair @readingiskeepingmegoing @pedroshotwifey @tinytinymenace @inept-the-magnificent @vivian-pascal

[unhonestlymirror]

Sometimes people ask, why don't pro-Ukrainian people leave the occupation?

I have two recent cases that happened to my acquaintances and from their experience, and I will anonymously tell you why the way to leave is closed for them.

After February 24, 2022, they posted several pro-Ukrainian posts on their Facebook page. access to the page was lost, and there is no way to restore it because there is no Ukrainian mobile connection. At the "border" the russians turned them away for "discrediting the entire Russian Federation," and then they took them to the "Ministry of Internal Affairs" for several days. fortunately, alive, whole, at home.

the second - not the last woman in the village, to the full scale - a lady with a managerial position. She managed to clean the page, managed to cross it with "I'm going to my relatives and I'll be back", but they found a post from 2015 with a photo of the Ukrainian military. returned home, taken to "SIZO", now at home.

The russians force people in the occupied territory of Ukraine, in particular, in my Luhansk region, to make russian passports. and there really aren't that many people who haven't done them yet. the occupiers are skilled manipulators, and if even here in Kyiv, I often hear "nothing will change, imagine how often people under occupation hear this.

People for whom the russians are building a separate information system in which they are already the winners, in which it is impossible to break through the line of defense, in which Ukraine will not return, because russia is already laying asphalt and building a school, which means that the territory will not be given away. and what a shame that the asphalt was laid in 2021, and the repair of the school was completed before the start of the full scale.

In the occupation, it is morally difficult to exist. i urge everyone not to judge the people who are there. they don't need morals and teachings, but our help. of course, it's worth reminding them to evacuate. but please be humane with those who live among the scoundrels.

[seth-shitposts]

another fic idea I plan on expanding upon

so Alex and I have been throwing this concept back and forth for at least a week or two now, but-

So AU where the war didn't happen. Zeb is a son in an aristocratic family, and the family often has trips and work throughout the galaxy.

One time, they have him take a vacation to go with them. He very much did not want to join, he had too many duties to attend to in the palace. He finally agrees when one of his siblings reminds him of how bored he's been and another says that they're going to Coruscant, which means they'll also be going to the royal orchestra house.

On the first day on coruscant, Zeb still thinks that most of the trip will be boring. That is until a fight breaks out between some security guards and a few scavengers from the lower levels. Zeb is had been warned not to interfere before hand, as it could cause a violation between Coruscant and Lasan. So he observes what was happening and then saw that one scavenger slips away from the scrimmage with whatever was looted from the jeweler store.

He chases this tall, scruffy-look blond through the streets and down a couple of levels. The scavenger passes the bag off to someone else, who goes in the opposite direction, but something tugs Zeb to continue pursuing the person. Besides, he didn't really have any intention of making an arrest or recovering the jewels. He wants some excitement and this scavenger has been throwing taunts at Zeb the whole way down.

He leads Zeb through a maze of alleyways and... to a dead end. Zeb looks up when he hears laughter from above. "Sorry Lasat, it's not your day."

Hissing a growl between his teeth, Zeb launches himself to the wall and scales it, catching up to the scoundrel. "Day's not over yet, buddy."

Something about the spark of determination in the other’s eyes thrills Zeb. The two begin a brawl, and Zeb is impressed with how well the other holds his ground to him. There's a lot of heat in the fight, but no malice. Reminds Zeb of the spars he's had with his fellow guardsmen. It ends all too soon, coruscanti guards quickly making their way down the levels. The human knocks Zeb off his balance and takes advantage of the stumble to make his escape. "It was a pleasure, but I very much don't like prison."

From the spot Zeb lays on the rooftop, he watches as the scavenger salutes him before falling backwards off the roof. In a panic, zeb scambles to the edge, watching as the other falls for just a short while longer before being scooped by a passing speeder. Zeb laughs as the speeder descends deeper into the planet.

And he thinks that his path crossing with the man is just a one time coincidence.

That is, until the night he goes to the ochresta. His family rented a private viewing suite. He's watching the performance when he feels like he heard something down the way. Zeb tells his family he's leaving for some fresh air, not hearing anything other than the sound of something clattering before hurriedly trying to be muffled. Zeb walks past gaurds who don't pay the noise any mind, so it's probably farther away.

Zeb goes down a few floors, to the empty rooms that are kept behind locked doors. Slipping in, Zeb follows much quieter sounds, sounds of humming and tapping, with pained hiss slipping inbetween the melodies.

Zeb swings a door open into a dark storage room, props and old instruments having been knocked down by an open window. Zeb follows the mess until his eyes quickly meet the scavenger from earlier, stating at him like a deernny in headlights.

And they just stare at each other for a moment. Zeb's eyes fall to where his hands are, wrapping a very injured knee with bacta bandages. Panic sinks into the scavenger's eyes as he looks between Zeb and the window, as if trying to calculate how the kriff he's going to make it to the window without getting grabbed. Zeb quietly closes the door and walks closer to the other slowly.

"Lovely night for the orchestra, eh?"

The other looks Zeb up and down, cautiously continuing his piss-poor medic work. "Yeah... they're playing stuff from Lothal all week. Very lovely." His eyes never leave the other.

Zeb rolls his eyes and takes a seat on the crate across from him, next to where his foot is propped up. "Yeah, the arrangement is a set of scores that were composed on the planet." He picks up items from the open medical supplies thrown across the floor. "And you're doin' this wrong. If ya don't splint your knee, this'll heal incorrectly." Zeb holds his other hand out for the roll of bandages.

The scavenger scans Zeb over for a moment, before making a decision and handing the roll to the other. With nothing left to hold, the other grips the edge of the crate he's sitting on.

Zeb works on unwrapping the bandages until he gets to the torn layer of pants that reveal some pretty painful looking discoloration on the human’s pale skin. "With stunts like the one ya pulled yesterday, I can’t imagine how this happened."

The comment pulls a huff of laughter from the other between winces as Zeb uses the splint to support his knee and begin wrapping it.

"I- mm... I would say that my 'stunts' aren't the cause of this, but it was my own fault that I got this injury, so you aren't too far off, actually."

Humming, Zeb rolls a thumb over the final wrap of the bacta, his hold becoming much more gentle than firm now as he helps the other maneuver his leg off the crate. "So if not your acrobatic tricks, how'd you get like this?" Zeb motions to his knee, "I very much doubt one of those guards actually caught you, seeing as how you're not behind bars."

A smile ghosts over his lips as he looks to the wall that separates them from the open room of the orchestra house, music still thundering through despite it. "I'm bad at following orders. I disobeyed a direct order and..."

A mixed feeling of shock and terror washes over Zeb. He’s been warned of many of the horror stories of the lower levels, but... "Your own people did that to you?" Zeb doesn't dare let the question why do you stay slip from his tongue, knowing that it's probably not even an option for the man across from him.

The other man just shrugs, "you really don't want to hear the rest of that story, Princling."

Zeb shakes his head with a frown, "I'm not a prince."

The other gives this smug kriffing smirk as he leans against the tower of supplies behind him. "You're something adjacent to the title. What is your proper title then, hm? What would you like me to call you?"

"Just call me Zeb."

The other tilts his head, the smugness having been short lived. "What’s that short for?"

Zeb crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the tower of crates behind him as well. "How do you know its short for something?"

The other rolls his eyes, "I honestly really don't know much about Lasat or Lasan, but I do know that the language tends to be difficult for most throughout the galaxy to learn and pronounce. I could be very incorrect in saying this, but that probably isn't the full name of a fancy aristocrat such as yourself, Starling."

Zeb breathes out his nose sharply. "That's still more than what most people tend to know. It's Garazeb. My name."

And then the other rolls the name off his tongue, as if he’s said it a thousand times before and Zeb’s breath stops short. "Garazeb. Now that's lovely," a wolf-ish grin breaks over his face.

Zeb swallows hard, ignoring the flick of his ear as his blood rushes to his face. "So what's your name, huh?"

The other's eyes loose their playful tone, smile dropping. "Not important." He moves to stand up, swaying for a moment before catching himself, "don't need to get into any more trouble than I've already gotten myself." He turns to walk toward the window, presumably to make another jump.

"Aye, aye, aye!" Zeb catches his wrist to stop him, but the other flinches from his touch. So instead, Zeb moves to block the path to the window. "You really shouldn't be doing crazy jumps with that knee of yours."

The other frowns as he takes a step back from Zeb, but steps on something he had knocked over earlier and causes himself to lose balance. He winces, or more accurately braces for impact.

Zeb moves in and catches him before he either hits the ground or tries to catch himself on the crates and then hits the ground.

The injured man tries to wrestle out of the hold that saved him. Zeb stands them back up and lets go, placing his hands on his hips but doesn't move away. The other just crosses his arms over his chest as he tries to figure out a new escape. "Well, I climbed up here, didn't I?" He growls out his next sentence, "I can climb back to the hole I crawled out of."

Zeb just rolls his eyes. "You're so intimidating with that injury, you're right, I should cower out of the way so you can break your kriffing neck."

The man chews on the inside of his cheeks as he glares at Zeb. "Fine. If you can figure out a way to smuggle me past the security, I won't scale the building back down. I'll catch a speeder back down."

Shaking his head, Zeb scratches his neck. "And then what? Are you going to stay off that leg until it heals? I very much doubt that."

The other sneers at Zeb, lip curling. "What I do is honestly none of your business. It doesn't affect you one way or the other."

Zeb sighs, he wants to help the other until he's able to move around and take care of himself. He curses Kanan and Hera for instilling such a lack of common sense in him when it comes to helping others.

'Yeah, you don't really have anyone else to blame that one on, buddy,' Zeb can hear Ezra laughing at him now.

"Look, I have a needlessly huge deluxe suite to myself. There's plenty of room. You can stay with me while I'm here so your leg can fully heal."

The other tenses, resisting the urge to take another step back in the cramped space. "No thank you, Garazeb. You've already-"

Zeb flinches as the lights are flicked on, "what's going on here? You two can't be back here."

Both men turn to look at a gaurd standing in the doorway. Zeb glances back at the other, watching as panic fills his eyes but his face goes blank. Zeb pushes a laugh out as he slips his arm over his shoulders and looks back to the gaurd, "Sorry man, we got lost on our way to the food court and my friend here really needed to rest his leg," Zsb motions down to the other's injury, "and I had a hell of a time trying to find a bench." Zeb makes a few clicks of his tongue as he shakes his head. "That's quite a lack of accessibility, honestly."

The gaurd tries to think of something to say, but Zeb is already guiding the scavenger past him. "We'll be on our way now, thank you for your service."

The other allows Zeb to guide him out the building and to a speeder.