#lawless range

[valereth2]

A friend of mine told me to deep dive on westerns...so I went back and bought a bunch more....on VHS

[mysaldate]

Does anyone know how tf the creator of High Guardian Spice got through to Crunchyroll to convince them to make their dream project into a real thing? Because damn, I really wanna know. I wanna make my own show too, I have so many ideas. And I dare say they'd fit what they want more as well given how HGS was supposed to be a cutesy slice of life thing before Crunchyroll randomly bust in with "Actually we want blood and swearing and mature dark fantasy!" Like I have an actual mature dark fantasy story in mind with dozens of characters and a fully fleshed out world with history and superstition and three-arc main story with tons of side stories and backstories and everything. Give me the team, Crunchyroll, and I'll make you such a wild show you won't be able to keep up

[thedeafprophet]

I think you have verified only messages on on the site formerly known as twitter

UGH i swear it keeps switching that back every1 is better off messaging me here lmao. i only use that site to talk about myself and to my friends 90% of the time

[theminecraftbee]

the summer before THE END...

(this fic contains @hotguycomiczine spoilers! go read it first! i'll wait!)

It’s midday. The sun is heavy and hot, bearing down against the asphalt and visibly making the air shimmer over the road. Summer in Hermitopia can be miserable, and frankly Cuteguy thinks it’s far more miserable than the bruises. The humidity makes his feathers stick together and itch in awkward ways, he’s sweaty twice over because he hadn’t had time to actually wash his costume between the last major villain attack, his recent part-time line cook job, and then this fight.

He’s in his early thirties and he’s becoming an old man, he thinks. His knees should not hurt this much, and yet here they are. Vigilantism is going to give him early arthritis.

They’ve driven off the villain. Didn’t manage to catch him, though. He wasn’t even from Hermitopia. That’s been happening more lately; people who see Hermitopia as some lawless wasteland where they can come visit, avoid drinking any water, and live out their dreams of being a comic book character, damn the consequences or collateral damage. It’s frustrating. Sometimes, deep in Cuteguy’s soul, he sort of thinks the Soup Group has a point in calling out all this bullshit.

Of course, they do all that murder about it. So. Not much better, really.

He leans against a building and tries to breathe. Normally he has a water bottle with his costume, but this guy had homemade napalm. Luckily, not real napalm! The water did work for putting out the fire! Unfortunately, it’s ninety-seven degrees and humid and Cuteguy has just done enough cardio that he’s honestly worried about the odds he passes out. 

Out on the street, Hotguy is chatting with every civilian he comes across. He’s grandstanding. He’s giving blow-by-blows. He’s acting like his sweat doesn’t stink like a mere mortal’s. He has a water bottle, and he’s taking sips of it between chats with reporters and posing for cameras. There are enough cars and civilians that Cuteguy isn’t all that worried about the TCG yet. Hotguy’s still pretty damn wanted, what with the whole possession thing that they don’t exactly have the means to prove to the public, so Cuteguy’s got to keep an eye out for them, but with this many cameras on him? The TCG isn’t about to arrest him on camera. Despite everything, he's still too charismatic; he'd still make them look too bad. 

Cuteguy wipes his forehead again. He does notice when someone starts approaching him; he might be exhausted, but he’s acting as Hotguy’s situational awareness while he’s busy playing up crowds. He can’t afford to be that exhausted, so he isn’t. That, and the woman approaching him is hardly as stealthy as the Bleeding Hart. Another thing he might have to give to the Soup Group were he willing to give them credit for anything: he’s never been able to fully stop noticing where everyone is around him. Hotguy had winced and called it “hypervigilance”. Cuteguy had said that he wasn’t any better, he just calls it a superpower. Hotguy had said it is hardly his fault his superpower promotes vigilance. Cuteguy had—

“Uh, good fight. Thanks,” says the woman.

“Oh, uh. You’re welcome,” Cuteguy says.

She’s tall and blonde. Also, she has four arms. Cuteguy should have probably noticed that first, but he didn’t, and that’s on him.

“Bit of a mess, especially in this weather. Hotter and they’d issue a heat advisory, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cuteguy says.

He is not good at post-battle smalltalk. That’s why it’s Hotguy’s job. He’s good at causing chaos if needed, but chaos is the opening the TCG would need to get to Hotguy. Cuteguy glances in his direction. He’s posing and signing autographs still. He can’t help but sigh. They’re going to be here all day.

The four-armed lady follows his gaze.

“You know, I’d always wondered why you stick to him,” she says.

“Sorry?” Cuteguy says.

“I just mean—I watched the fight. Yeah, he’s good, but you’re decent at range too. You can get enough height to really not need perfect accuracy because you’ll be hard to hit. Wings are, uh, a pretty overpowered combat tool, really, especially when most of your enemies are on the ground. But you’re good at close range, so, uh, inside isn’t awful for you either, really.”

“I mean, you’re right, I am pretty good,” Cuteguy says, interrupting her. “I don’t really get—”

“Look at him,” the woman says. “You ran around more than him and he took the water bottle.”

Cuteguy wants to defend Hotguy for that one; it’s hardly his fault that Cuteguy dumped his water bottle on napalm like it would do anything. It did, which is convenient, but still. Not Hotguy’s call. He doesn’t quite get the chance.

“Even after everything last month, he’s still grandstanding too. Sure, he’s stopped shooting people for not being grateful enough, or holding rescues hostage for cash, but look at him. Hardly any better, is he. Sure, he says he was possessed—”

“He was,” Cuteguy snaps.

“—but like, is the guy he is now actually all that different? Just saying.”

Cuteguy stares at the man trying to get extra photo ops out of a group of passing runners. They’re topless to account for the heat, which is probably why Hotguy wants photos with them. Cuteguy can just barely hear the man asking to trade phone numbers. Is it worse or better, Cuteguy wonders, that the phone number Hotguy gives out just goes straight to Cub’s inbox? Is that catfishing or just good sense?

“He’s trying to help,” Cuteguy says.

“He’s desperate for attention,” the four-armed woman says. “You know, you’d probably be better without him. After everything that happened, your reputation would be better too. A little more in the shadows, a little less associated with his crimes.”

“He’s…”

“I just want the real reason, really,” the woman says. 

“What do you…”

“Why would you stick with him when you’re so much better?”

Hotguy waves goodbye to the runners. He takes another sip of the water bottle. Really, there’s so much that Cuteguy can say here, watching that. He could say something about how, in the terrible days when the Soup Group had first come onto the scene, Hotguy had barely left Cuteguy’s side until Cuteguy started pushing him away. He could say that Hotguy is earnest, that he really does want to save people, despite the fact he also wants attention. He could say that he knows the man behind the mask now, and he’s seen his films, and frankly getting a little recognition as Hotguy kind of makes up for not getting recognition for his decent acting talent. He could say something about playing Mario Kart on the couch, or learning to aim a bow, or fights with Doc, or secrets shared that Cuteguy wants to make sure Hotguy never has an incentive to spread. He could say something about how dangerous fighting alone is. That’s probably the more sensible thing to say, actually; Cuteguy knows exactly how dangerous fighting alone is.

What Cuteguy says is this:

“He makes me happy.”

There is a long not-quite silence as sirens and cicadas fill the summer air.

“Huh,” the woman says.

Cuteguy doesn’t say anything else.

“Well. I mean. I don’t really know how to save you from that, so I guess I’ll just leave you to it,” the woman says. “Consider if he’s really worth it.”

She leaves. Cuteguy stares after her a moment before shaking his head and going back to scanning the crowd for any known TCG elements.

“Birdie!” Hotguy crows, running over from the reporters. “We’re on the 5 PM news!”

“Really? An out-of-towner with questionable pyrotechnics made it?” 

“I got it worked out,” Hotguy says confidently. “But, uh, with that said, you look like you need some AC and a drink. I have so much Gatorade in my fridge that it isn’t even funny. All the labels are pulled off because it’s for that one football movie I did, right? And for some reason they didn’t want to give Gatorade the product placement, so they made all these sports drinks without—”

“Not in-costume, Hotguy,” Cuteguy says, but he doesn’t put any heat into it.

“—oh, you know no one’s listening, lighten up! Anyway, so the movie ended up somehow ordering far too many bottles, and you know what they say about underpaid actors and free food—or, I’m not sure it’s actually an expression, but let me tell you, I have never turned it down. And with the number of ele… electo-mites? I think? You know, all the sweat we’re sweaty about—come on Cuteguy, I don’t want you passing out on the pavement, I really didn’t mean to get caught out that long!” Hotguy says, grabbing Cuteguy’s hand to take him back to his apartment.

Miserable heat or not, Cuteguy can’t help but smile slightly.

“I don’t want to pass out either, that’s why I’m not running, Hotguy,” he says, and he lets himself be tugged along in that man’s wake once more.

[sheekmartin]

An errant thought crossed her mind and Hermione couldn’t shake the image of a particular painting from her thoughts. She wondered if Malfoy, in all his refinement and privilege, knew about Muggle Art. About the beauty of abstract images. Had he ever seen Pablo Picasso or studied František Kupka? Had he any knowledge of Jackson Pollock?

Paintings filled with energetic, swirling lines and splatters of color that created an intricate web of movement. The violent mix of hues ranging from bold primary to more natural muted tones, all intermingling in a chaotic yet harmonious way.

It didn’t matter what perspective one took before looking at the muggle artist’s work - the lines still converged and the different splatters of paint still mingled together in an arduous effort to evoke something.

There was an anarchic, lawlessness to the images…

They didn’t make sense.

Just like him.

It didn’t make sense that so many of her darkest moments also included some version of his involvement - it didn’t matter that Draco Malfoy was precariously woven through her past, like the strokes of a Pollock painting. It didn’t matter that he converged and transmuted around parts of her and likewise she around parts of him.

It didn’t make sense and it didn’t matter.

He was leaving.

He was leaving and all the different ways his existence intertwined with hers would be nothing more than a subtle footnote in the archives of her history.

•

HUGE MASSIVE THANK YOU to @ivmaruva for allowing me to use her MESMERIZING Hermione. 🥹🤩 she’s everything!

I hope you all enjoy this little piece of Hermione!

🖤

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

WebMD Page for Aziraphale

As promised to you all, inspired by that video of Aziraphale as an antidepressant. The WebMD drug format, from your clearly deranged mascot, Asmi. This took way too much effort. For legal purposes, even though this blog is a lawless hellscape, this is a spoof. If you did like it, reblog it, maggoty loves of mine, because likes don't help visibility on tumblr, and I want everyone to be traumatised with my own specific brand of unhinged. No pressure though, be rebels muaha. That being said:

MENU > DRUGS & MEDICATIONS > AZIRAPHALE

COMMON BRAND(S): Guardian of the East Gate, Angel GENERIC NAME(S): Aziraphale

USES This medication is used to treat mood-related disorders ranging from depression to chronic loneliness and anxiety. It has also been proven effective in treatment of Compulsive Demonic Behavioural Disorder (CDBD) and Post Fall Stress Disorder (PFSD). The medication results in an overall improvement in mood (see Side Effects), morals, and lifestyle choices. This medication is sometimes described as a 'miracle-worker'. It is advisable to ensure that the correct dosage is taken at regular intervals. The doctor/God/Forces That Be may prescribe a lower dose at the start, gradually increasing frequency and amount over the course of millennia.

SIDE EFFECTS Documented side-effects include pining behaviour, severe withdrawal symptoms in case of suddenly stopping the medication, heart palpitations, stuttering or stammering, mood swings including irrational lashing out or defensive behaviour when faced with highly emotional situations, break-ups, misunderstands, obliviousness, amongst others. Despite the studies being limited to a single subject (see Crowley et. al. updated 2023) these effects are typically harmless in the long term. Life-altering effects may also be noted, including irretrievably falling in love, marriage, a positive character arc, tendencies to put oneself at risk to ensure continuation of medication, lifelong friendship, fate-defying romance and severe allergy to the idea of discontinuation of medication.

WARNINGS Casual or reckless consumption can be too fast for the medication, which will lessen its effects, leading to withdrawal symptoms. Withdrawal symptoms range from repeated indulging in CDBD and PFSD induced behaviours to alcoholism, depressive episodes, recklessness, listlessness, and prolonged car rides with no purpose. While the medication should not be consumed too fast, regularity is also advised. This is a long-term medication and not a short-term fix. Rare, short-term exposures will only worsen the side effects, withdrawal symptoms and may even reverse the drug effects.

PRECAUTIONS Ensure immortality so that the medication may be able to work its effect through the full course. Pre-existing trauma and heart conditions may require regular consultations with a therapist.

INTERACTIONS Drug interactions may change how the medication works or increase severity of side effects. This document does not include a comprehensive list of all drug interactions, please do adequate research and check instructions on the medication before proceeding with additional drugs. Aziraphale is known to have highly negative interactions with the toxin hellfire as well as the drugs Gabriel (only when sold as Supreme Archangel), Satan and Metatron (known toxin). Negative interference may occur due to most drugs from the class Heaven and Hell. Vague interference may occur with the drug class Homo sapiens.

OVERDOSE While less dangerous than withdrawal symptoms, overdose may lead to lack of personal space, miscommunication, and decrease in mood stability. Increased irritability is also common. Use with caution.

IMAGE

REVIEWS (1) Effectiveness: 5 stars Ease of use: 4 stars Satisfaction: 100000000000000000000e stars

It must be noted that in the country where I live (India), advertisements for pharmaceutical drugs are legally prohibited on television and other media. Which is why I was very bewildered at the initial video. But WebMD is a universal phenomenon so this shall by my contribution to the fandom. Thank you @neil-gaiman, Good Omens has given me a lot of opportunities to exercise my brain in all the weirdest ways.

[cebwrites]

hi hi Ceb! It’s me Nico! And I was wondering if you could write some zoro fluff with a ftm reader who’s having a tough time with back issues and improperly binding? If not that is absolutely a okay and I hope you have a great evening, night or day!

a/n: hell yeah i can do that!! trans guys are my bread and butter >:3 you asked for zoro but this kind of turned into a nakama piece from the SHs supporting their friend too oops

binding pains (Zoro x Reader)

pre-timeskip, t4t mlm zoro and reader, smut mention but no details word count: 1.2k

Zoro was the first to notice.

Well, maybe some of the others have too, but only few others out of the Strawhats are able to pinpoint the exact reason behind the discomfort you desperately try to hide; how you can never find a comfortable angle to lounge on the couch, the awkward ways you have to sit at the table to eat without irritating the dull throb that's become a near-constant in your day to day, and your perpetual slouch getting worse.

It was getting more difficult to hide that pain in the aftermath of simple sparring, too, let alone actual fights with the usual suspects you and your crew had to contend with.

You'd shut down any concern shown your way by older members of the crew; queer elders that knew precisely what the problem was, but you weren't ready to be vulnerable enough with them to hear out any potential solution yet. Everyone had only just gotten together, picking up a funny old skeleton on some fucked up Warlord's travelling island a week or so back and having only saved Robin from the clutches of the government a month or two before that.

You understood that Robin was only trying to be proactive in comforting her newfound family but you weren't ready yet—a fact she seemingly understood and kept from prying accordingly, but made sure you knew you'd always have a shoulder to lean on with her. This influenced Franky's support to be a little less high-flown too, somehow.

This sparked new, unrelated, but curious questions in your mind about the nature of their relationship these past few weeks but that - was none of your business. Just as you had your right to privacy, Franky and Robin deserved to come forward about if they were... complimentary to one another or not. Frankly the thought kind of did make you blush a bit, though, like a kid watching their parents share tender but casual affection in the comfort of domesticity.

Now, Roronoa, the beautiful light reflecting off your blade, Zoro - caught on to your act almost immediately. Because this was this was the exact kind of dumb shit he'd pull in the lawless, early days of his transition where he had no one to tell him not to, back when he didn't have nearly half the self-confidence in the man that he was today. Or rather, no one to tell him that he was doing it incorrectly.

The issue he runs into is more of, how, he'd approach this with you instead of if, since he knows he should. Zoro considered going to Chopper first since that little reindeer was the resident doctor, but he didn't know if that would fly into the territory of outing you, and that threw out the possibility of asking for advice from the others too. Not that Zoro could be particularly subtle even if he tried, everyone would know he was talking about his partner the moment he asked.

So he resigns to just approaching you about it himself.

Tucked away in one of the hammocks hung in the men's quarters one lazy evening, Luffy and Usopp's laughter rang loudly, but muffled above the floorboards. Zoro cradled you with one arm around your waist, the other rest comfortably behind his head. You smiled, moments like these were small but many, one of the joys of being on this crew you assumed.

As Zoro moved to rub his arm against your back, however, you can't quite suppress the way you instinctively tense, nor the growing anxiety deep in your chest every time his hand passed against the fabric of your bindings. Logically, you knew this was nothing to be worried about. Zoro was the same, another beautiful trans guy with the enviable confidence to walk around topless. So what if his boyfriend wasn't quite there yet?

"Hey, how's about we look into getting you a binder?" Zoro was cautious, eyes still closed but he listened intently for your response as his hand drifted further down to your lower back, taking a slight bit of pressure of your mind now that he wasn't actively touching the wrappings.

"You're hurting yourself." He'd roll over to face you properly now, both hands gently cradling your waist.

You'd hesitate to meet his gaze, one you knew to be intense ever since the day he first laid eyes on you, and now, in the tender silence you shared with him you knew that the look in his eyes would rival the sun - the intensity of his love for you, his devotion to you threatening to burn your spirit to a crisp.

Hesitantly, but safe in the sanctuary of his arms, you open up to him about your concerns, your fears. How you're afraid perceptions of you might change if a strange piece of new clothing suddenly shows up in the wash and the other crew members have to watch you claim it as yours. He'd assuage your unease with gentle kisses and small talks of affirmation.

How this crew of all people would never choose to treat someone differently for a silly (but understandable fear) reason like that.

That night he helped undo your wrappings and joked that he could hear your spine realign as you afforded yourself a well earned stretch, laughing at the bindings you threw at his face. He sounded even more pleased when you chose to wrap them around his eyes later on, and with permission granted, devoured your body that night in the crow's nest blind.

The next morning or maybe a few days after, he'd urge you to approach Nami about a little extra pocket money for this particular expense, and maybe some moral support when going shopping for it. For the latter, Robin tags along provided you want her to. Chopper doesn't do his usually overblown reaction of finding out someone on the crew is hurt when you go to him about the back problems that you developed after poor binding, but he does tear up and ask you to come to him immediately the next time something like this happens, and that he's sorry for not being someone you could feel comfortable doing that with a lot sooner.

And I mean—hell, if discomfort with your chest got really bad before the gang could find you the right binder, Nami and Sanji would be more than willing to make you a custom one right at home provided they could get their hands on the proper materials. You're surprised that Sanji knows how to sew so well but not so when Nami says she's taking all her hard time and labor for this out of your allowance.

Your pocket money doesn't change, and in fact gets a slight "bonus" the day you get it.

A little fun money, is all. But only ever just this once.

You're overjoyed, you cry when you see how flat you look in the mirror. You can finally play in the water topless like children, bask in the sun without a shirt and have him tease you about tan lines later, and overall don't have to worry about turning yourself into a shrimp just to feel a shred of personhood.

Zoro's there with you the whole process, holding your hand, sharing the same joys he felt with his gender affirmation with you.

There's a little more spring in your step after this and you think, as you look at him nap against your shoulder, that you've never been more in love in your life.

[gortashs-skidmark]

GORTASH HEADCANONS and CANON Facts

MATURE CONTENT WARNING, 18+ MDNI, SMUT FOREWARNING - (Grammar mistakes, not proof read) CONTENT WARNING: enslavement mentions, death mentioned, religious themes, war, assassinations, spoiler warning for act 3, anarchy, plotting, yadda yadda evil,

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Canon first, to make precision based Headcanons second.

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ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ

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Info Source: Forgotten Realms Wiki, Forgotten Realms Wiki, World Anvil, World Anvil, Fast Change, r/DnD, Forgotten Realms Wiki, World Anvil, dungeonsanddragonsfans

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Utilizes 4e and 5e Manuals.

CANON

Wyrm’s Rock Geography and History

𝔊 An "Island-fortress located in the city of Baldur's Gate, that served as one of the headquarters of the Flaming Fist military. It was located on an isle in the middle of the River Chionthar, at the center of Wyrm's Crossing."

𝔊 Smooth, warn granite built Wyrm's Rock, with 1ft thick and constantly wet from the river.

𝔊 The interiors of Wyrm's Rock includes offices and chambers for toll-gatherers and guards, keep's armory stocked to the nines, the top floor serving living-quarters for serving officers and mercenaries.

𝔊 It can hold up to 100 Flaming Fist, but usually only houses 25-50

𝔊 Below Wyrm's Rock is the damp cold dungeons, but it's not used regularly, only for emergencies. It's mostly used as storage, holding canoes and such.

𝔊 The current uses for Wyrm's Rock, are as a safety precaution from the Chionthar's rapids and a toll booth, 5 copper pieces, for travelers along the Trade Way.

𝔊 It's a well guarded fortress, with projectiles, barrels of oil, armor, and hand held weapons.

𝔊 Ansur, a Bronze Lawful Good dragon, "The Heart of the Gate" slumbers beneath Wyrm's Rock.

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Lower/Outer City

𝔊 It is a dangerous "near lawless" piece of Baldur's Gate. Very impoverished with three enterances; Basilisks Gate, Black Dragon, and Cliffgate

𝔊 The buildings scattered along the city are unorganized and unstable.

𝔊 "Due to the high standards of cleanliness that the Baldurian patriar, the city maintained a strict law that prohibited anything larger than a peacock from entering the city's gates. All the stables, livestock pens and abattoirs were consigned to a location within the Outer City. As such, flocks of sheep, goats, cattle and all manner of fowl were kept in enclosures or left to roam around unchecked. While nary a single dog could be found in the lower city, packs of strays were not at all uncommon in the Outer City."

𝔊 It's noisy and dirty and overwhelming for new comers through the gate.

𝔊 The Flaming Fist and The Watch often turn a blind-eye to petty crime like pickpocketing.

𝔊 The Flaming Fist are often bought out, and their behavior sways with the political alignment and leadership world views.

𝔊 There's so much to write about! check this page for all of the vast shops around the Lower City, and the lore behind them. I don't think many of them are relevant so I won't indulge it.

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Humans in DND lore

𝔊 Humans are very diverse, and the youngest living out of the races. They often have a tad of tainted. blood, whether orc or elf or another.

𝔊 They are the most adaptable opportunists and ambitious race. Their culture, gods, customs, morals, all range heavily. They typically stick to one city and stay for as long as possible.

𝔊 Unlike humans themselves, cities and kingdoms with traditions and origins that stick around for centuries. Human names are often regional reflections. If they're given an elven or other name with racial origins, it's usually pronounced wrong.

𝔊 Humans live in the present and make greater adventurers because of it. They're better read about current political change and social dynamics.

𝔊 Humans mingle with anyone, usually able to get on anyones good terms because of their conventional image. In human built societies, generally, they're inclusive. Not always the case. In other racial origin societies, it can be harder for humans to fit in.

𝔊 Because of their short life span, immortality is an escape that's only dreamt of. They seek to leave a mark on history themselves instead of longevity.

𝔊 Humans are categorized by appearance because of region and ancestory. They fall into 9 categories, which I won't be listing. You can find info here, but don't go crazy.

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Baldur’s Political Systems and important Dark Urge History

𝔊 The Half Way to Everywhere, Baldur's Gate, largest metropolitan City-State in the Western Heartlands. Protected by The Flaming Fist (mercenary company) and The Watch Citadel (upper city). Showered in abundance of rain weather, and a complex and efficient aquaduct system. This city is described as The City of Blood with it's large waves of crime, primarily because of its acceptances towards anyone, including thieves.

𝔊 The city is apart of the Lords' Alliance of powers in the west, and ruled by the Council of Four (4 Grand Dukes) who attended the Lords' Alliance in representation of their City-State.

𝔊 There's a strange energy about Baldur's Gate. People, no matter the state of the world, often kept to their own business. They didn't have too many customs, but a few festivals. One notable past-time were cobble parties, folks gathering boxes and crate for seating and sharing stories, lit with special "red rose" torches from firework shops.

𝔊 Religion in Baldur's Gate was vast in variety. Depending on the hotspots of culture, you could find god and goddess worshippers of any kind. Twin Song's, a temple district in Baldur's Gate in the Outer City, were very religiously tolerant, even of Bhaal and Bane worshippers.

𝔊 To favor the land, Umberlee, Tymora, and Gond were prominent gods that were worshipped.

𝔊 After a coup by a previous Grand Duke Valarkan, the city's government changed to a Baldurian Parliament of elected Dukes. After 1479, it changes back to the Council of Four, accompanied by the Parliament of Peers.

𝔊 The Parliament of Peers were an Advisory Council. 50 representatives spread over the entirety of Baldur's Gate, as a legislative body. They would submit recommendations to the Council of Four.

𝔊 The Council of Four were served by 5 deputies, City Officials. Harbor Master, High Constable and Master of Walls, Master of Drains and Underways, Master of Cobbles, and Purse Master.

𝔊 They would hold sessions in the High Hall, open to observers. most days. They held assembly days every afternoon, with non-mandatory attendance, often 20-30 council members in the hall at a time. Some days were mandatory, depending on the topic.

𝔊 A large number of parliament members were bought-out and under influence by The Guild leader Nine-Fingers Keene.

𝔊 It was made up of retired adventurers and guild leaders. 12 representatives of the Lower City, and the remaining were Nobles representing the Upper City, known as Patriars.

𝔊 A list of Patriars. Including Oberon, who you can find dead on Wyrm's Rock. A Noble family who owned many of the dry-docks in Grey Harbour.

𝔊 "In the Year of Three Ships Sailing, 1492 DR, Baldur's Gate became plagued by a series of murders and disappearances. The members of the Flaming Fist showed little interest in addressing the incidents, but after the patriar families of Caldwell, Oberon, and Linnacher became affected, the pressure from Flaming Fist demanding investigations from their superiors started to increase" - Forgotten Realms Wiki

𝔊 In 1479, Baldur's Gate had mended their relationship with Elturguard. Though, expansions the Gate had been making, re-threatened Elturian's and were on the verge of civil war.

𝔊 In 1482, Grand Duke Abdel Adrian, a good-conquered Bhaaspawn, was attacked by a man named Viekang, the only other remaining Bhaalspawn. Though the duel ended in both men dying, one turning into The Slayer form. Both were Bhaalspawn, one was the victor though not knowing who was who. The Slayer form was returned to Bhaal after this event.

𝔊 Durge, with how their timeline works, has to be over 33 years old. Duke Abdel was 120 and had already separated themselves from Bhaal's influence. Do with that info you will. Back to your regularly scheduled Baldurian murder.

𝔊 His death was blamed on The Guild and adventurers were hired to investigate the murder. An increase in crime caused The Fist to crack down on the Lower City and shadier outer districts.

𝔊 The efforts of the Fist and the Watch, assumed by Grand Duke Ulder Ravenguard, didn't last and erupted in chaos. Strikes happened amongst city-workers and the Upper City was given a mid-afternoon curfew. The merchant class of the Lower City became unruly. Arson and crime sky-rocketed. Baldur's Mouth shut down, and the Fist's new leader instituted a series of illegal tribunals.

𝔊 Grand Duke Torlin Silvershield's stock-piled smoke power over parliament to stop the Guild's influence on the corrupt Baldurian Parliment. He revealed himself to be the "the Chosen of the re-ascended god of murder, Bhaal" before he was killed.

-

Gortash leans towards Steampunk, does technology exist? What are Constructs?

𝔊 There are different playable levels of tech you can play in a Campaign. I'm not sure where BG3 lies, but my guess is Steel Age, as it is possible to forge steel and infernal iron.

𝔊 Steel Age: fits most campaign settings (including Forgotten Realms, Greyhawk, Ebberon, etc.) and some experts know how to use adamantine and mithril.

𝔊 Within the canon lore that leads up in Dark Urge Origin, it should be the Steel Age. The Zhentarim, 1480's, create steel forged from Dragons in the Cult of the Dragons campaign, which has some capable lead up to Blood in Baldur's Gate (might be canon??) and then the 1492 BG3 game.

𝔊 Infernal Iron, weapons forged from this iron will smite souls and direct them into the River Styx. It can create soul-powered machines and vehicles. It creates Soul Coins, common currency in the Nine Hells. It is mined in the 8th (Cania) and 2nd (Dis) layers of Hell

𝔊 Constructs are creatures made up of inorganic materials. They are non-intelligent automatons, most are anyway.

𝔊 Living Constructs, however, combine elements of in-organic animation and living creatures. They possess free will and sentient thoughts, through complex and potent magic.

𝔊 Living Constructs can get better, and develop skills, they have vitality that doesn't depend on their size. Which means they are capable of being affected by spells and the living. They can wither mentally and physically be harmed in fights. They can be affected by necromancy.

𝔊 Living Constructs are capable of running, be affected with certain healing spell, can take certain potions, but do not require eating and drinking, be affected with mind-altering magic, most are immune to nausea, poison, sleep, fatigue, and paralysis.

-

What are Artificiers?

𝔊 They are inventors, engineer, and tinkerers of brilliance, they see magic as a complex system that's meant to be "de-coded" which makes them slower in spell progression.

𝔊 They use a number of items and systems to channel arcane magic, such as alchemy supplies for potent elixirs, calligrapher supplies to inscribe sigils, or tools to craft a temporary charm.

𝔊 They are particular in their crafts and hone it to their own character to produce the perfect product for the job.

𝔊 They often appear more steampunk than medieval like their compatriots. They are capable of using firearms and explosives

-

Who is The Tyrant God Bane?

𝔊 "Bane was the Faeruniangod of tyrannical oppression, terror, and hate, known across Faerûn as the face of pure evil through malevolent despotism. From his dread plane of Banehold, The Black Hand acted indirectly through worshipers and other agents to achieve his ultimate plan to achieve total domination of all Faerûn" - Forgotten Realm's Wiki

𝔊 He was the principal of ambition and control. He believes the strong have a right and a duty to rule over the weal.

𝔊 He favors individuals with drive, courage, and promoted slavery to powerful individuals.

𝔊 He worked closely with other if they interested him, unlike most gods. He worked with Myrukel, long when they were both mortal and beyond. He also worked with Loviatar (his servant at one point), Talona, and Mask.

𝔊 He was once lovers with Kiputytto, the demigoddess of Disease, and Loviatar's sister. Later slain by Talona.

𝔊 Bane has had servants such as his own son Iyachtu Xvim, during his first life. At other times of his god life, Abbathor, Maglubiyet (popular goblin god), Hrugget, and Tiamat.

𝔊 Bane's biggest and most hateful foe was Mystra. He hated Cyric too, who stole many of his followers, the Zhentarim or Black Network. He was hated by others but those are some relevant ones.

𝔊 Bane's Church was ruthless, though very stable. It was as disciplined as Shar's or Cyric's. Banite customs were often spartan-ish and followed a heirarchy. There are no Banite holidays and showed their gratitude through rituals. Including sacrifice and torture of sentient beings that were deemed "offensive"

𝔊 Priests of Bane prayed at midnight, for their spells. Disloyalty resulted in death.

𝔊 When Bane was mortal, he allied with mortal Bhaal and Myrukel. They targeted Jergal. They could slice through any obstacal, sometimes set up by Jergal. Jergal was tired of his title and gave it them, including his dagger given to Bane. The God of Death Jergal tricked one another to turn on each other. He divided his power in a game of Knucklebones, which Bane won and gained governance over the sphere of strife. Then Myurkel, then Bhaal who ate murder scraps. Ultimately Jergal had the Goddess of Luck decide.

-

How does the Church of Bane shape its worshippers? im just gonna quote one source bc it's straightforward man.

𝔊 Bane's church believes in subserviences and submission within a hierarchy, junior members bowing, kneeling, and even kissing boots if they were low enough in rank. Superior members were to be obeyed at all times. The church rules were of utmost importance, order and laws from any other land means nothing.

𝔊 "According to his priests, Bane was to be feared by his faithful and even more feared by the unfaithful. It was the duty of every member of the church of Bane to "spread (his) fear""

𝔊 "Banite priests took great pride in their ability to control their actions and avoid succumbing to emotional outbursts. Their outward demeanor was cold and thoughtful, they thought carefully before they spoke, often preferring sarcasm and "witty banter" rather than overt hostility." - Forgotten Realms Wiki

𝔊 "The overarching goal of Bane's clergy was the charge of seizing or manipulating their way into power in every nation, city-state or freehold in all of Faerûn, to bring them under his influence. Using emotionally manipulative tools such as fear, hatred or greed to sow conflict, war and chaos would allow the Black Hand to maintain control over lands too distressed to maintain stability. To this end, priests and followers were encouraged to commit acts such as torture, political infiltration or inciting mayhem with subtlety, cruelty and overall, fear."

𝔊 Rituals; "They were held either outdoors at night, or in a space of darkness, such as darkened chambers, caves or ruins with only dim lighting." [...] "Services included rhythmic chanting, the rolling beating of drums and the sacrifice of an intelligent creature's life. To prepare for this life to be given to Bane, the oblatory life was to be demeaned and tortured until they showed him due fear."

-

𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊

HEADCANONS (mixed nfsw)

𝔊 He's a mad scientist, lacks good aligned morality, he's far gone. It makes him an amazing artificier.

𝔊 Larian Studios, what is that? What is this laziness? (I was looking into Chiondathans bc I've never heard of the 9 regional categories)

𝔊 Hearing Gortash vomit would be more attractive than hearing his previous last name of "Flymm" in full. I just wanna put that in.

How old is Enver Gortash?

𝔊 I liked this deep-dive by @victorgrwrites and I won't waste time explaining and here

𝔊 So like 33. I think he's 33. Also here’s a bg3 timeline bc yall seem to struggle

anyway

𝔊 I like that durge potentially gets with Astarion. Bane favors animals like bats and black green eyed cats. and durge catches themselves a vampire that can turn into a bat (if ascended). That would 'bout piss Gortash off.

𝔊 Gortash really gets some points from Bane bc he got the Zhentarim's favor again through infernal iron weapons trading. They favor Bane over Cyric again. Gortash was #1 in Bane's eyes.

𝔊 I think he gets hard when he gets exceptional praise. Not like "good boy" like "you're everything the world ever needed, my merciful god" kinda praise. Like calling his brain is magnificent for coming up with that plan all by himself (if you're tav) gets him goin'

𝔊 He does not attend a lot of the parliament meetings, when he does it's for very specific problems in Baldur's Gate, anyone who caught on would probably "disappear"

𝔊 He's busy, either tinkering, meetings, or in worship. I think he leads Bane's church, but not publicly, through Banite priests because he can't be discovered about his religion as a political leader.

𝔊 He uses tones in his voice, you hear it all day, he only makes talk to flatter, mock, or threaten politely, but he knows how to use a very soft, very sweet voice that makes you give into anything he asks for.

𝔊 His broad shoulders and warm hands are never sincere. You felt like you've never been given a sincere hug from him, as comforting as they can be in the moment. He'd have to give up his way of life and cry on his knees in front of you before you could believe he was ever sincere about certain affections.

𝔊 If you could polymorph into an animal, he's either think it's disgusting or wanna fuck it.

𝔊 His Steel Watch, you just can't tell me not to be stunned, are half way between living and non-sentient constructs. They have a brain that operates, they can see what they're doing, and yet they have no control over their body. Gortash didn't need to give them brains to make automatons that do anything at his will, it's pure slavery and torture.

𝔊 If you’re childhood friends, 7 or 8 years old, you’d drag him in the late of night to those Cobble parties and sit among the adults in the dim red torch light listening to the adults talk. You’d drop him off at home, you did have a way of worrying for his safety with his parents. He was a stubborn devil as a child but you were too happy and care free to leave him be.

𝔊 He did not carry those cobbler genes, have you seen his fuggo ass shoes?? He can tinker like no one else but his sense of style is messy and new-money.

𝔊

Why is Gortash Evil?

𝔊 His parents fucking sold him for being "needy and troublesome" like MOST KIDS ARE. If I got sold to a Warlock, that turned out to be THE SON OF MEPHISTOPHELES. I'd be fucking evil too.

𝔊 Just as he was needy and troublesome when he lived with his parents, he reverts to a smaller husk of himself with a trusted lover. Needy, malevolent, confident in his strides, it’s his way or the highway, but he will listen to you quietly. You are an equal but he’s relentless as a person. Pester, pester, pester. Sometimes you feeling like you’re mothering him.

𝔊 He's probably pretty high up in the Church of Bane. People kiss his feet, he shows amazing restraint in emotion, politically is advantageous for Bane, he's a slaver like Bane teaches is okay to do, he trades arms and is super fucking popular for it.

𝔊 He showed great restraint with the Dark Urge, I think he loved being allies with them because he didn't have to stray far from Bane at all for Durge to adore him. I don't think he could've loved and he would've abandoned Durge in a heartbeat unlike vice-versa.

𝔊 I think Enver hums deep and beautifully from his years of chanting in Bane's name. He has a deep focused look on his face, and he deeply hums a melody he heard at a party last night, dancing and wooing patriars left and right on the ballroom floor.

𝔊 𝔊 𝔊

𝔊 Undoing his evil is near-damn impossible. He loves attention, he needs it. He needs praise his his god. He worked so hard for everything in life and you can’t take it away.

𝔊 If you can convince him to give up, fucking unlikely, before the Nether Brain fight, he’ll live. He might suffer Bane’s wrath and kill him and Jergal would not be super happy reviving him after your pleas. Karlach would hate you. So would Wyll

𝔊 Threatening his enteral consequence of death, tending to flowers forever in Avernus after he dies, or, he fixes Karlach so she doesn’t need to go back to Avernus.

𝔊 She wouldn’t trust him and she’d say she’d rather be dead before trusting him again. And you have to convince both of them to be better. Well. Just Gortash. Karlach can do whatever her sweet heart desires.

𝔊 He is irredeemable, he's lead the Church of Bane since he was 17, he's pretty much licked Bane's asshole at this point. It's hard to get to know him. He's probably a grumpy, sad, regretful little guy under his immaculate persona.

𝔊 You can start reconnecting him to Baldur's Gate, with Cobble Parties, you both go and hold hands and listen to stories. He doesn't want to listen to the groveling, sober at least. He is reserved and needs to make friends, but in his own times.

𝔊 His parents would never take him back and accept him, they made him and didn't help him, or work with him as a child an they handed him over to a Cambion. They still recall so much hatred when he lived there.

𝔊 He probably loved explosives as a child, and got in trouble for setting them off in the house. He would tinker, wander off, and read books and play by himself, smart reserved kind of kid. Which worried and frustrated his parents, he wasn't cobbler material.

𝔊 Children are difficult but you can't forgive their negligence. They threw him out at the first chance probably. You hold a grudge against his parents. You're vocal about it with comments, when they see him after the whole ordeal. He's supposed to make progress and they're gonna make him writhe in every mental way like he did before.

𝔊 You make sure to create good memories, even in the Lower City, those cobble parties, little firework shows off the grey harbors docks by the foundries ashes, he never got to celebrate Baldur's Gate's customs like Highharvestide even tho it's not as popular, Returning Day to where you talk about the Murder in the Wide. you want to include him in everything,

𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊

Hey guys! if you got this far, yay! but also i'm not done writing it. come back to my page and find it on my master list when it's finished to enjoy more!

I’ll continue writing as I think of more headcanons.

[future-fire-dragon-blog]

What Come Around: Chapter 1

Masterlist

Pairing: Jason Todd x Mafia! Afab Reader

Synopsis: Reader is a capo for the Moreno family. They have been sent to Gotham to “set up shop” and to help with a new shipment of drugs and chemicals for their customers.

(y/n) = your name

(l/n) = last name

Gotham, a city infamous for its crime and chaos, was the perfect backdrop for (y/n)'s latest endeavor. The city's reputation for lawlessness and the presence of vigilantes like Batman made it an ideal location for illicit activities. They had been sent here to keep an eye on things and make sure operations ran smoothly.

“Boss, we have secured the perimeter. No one gets in or out of here without us knowing” Matthias voice rang out, as he came running up behind you. Matthias was a younger soldier, far too young in (y/n)’s opinion, but they digress. You stood in the office, overlooking the warehouse, ready for the shipment of chemicals to arrive. “Sounds good Matt, Gino said he has pulled some strings for us tonight. No bats to worry about,” you gently intoned, turning back around as you heard the roar of an engine. “The bats will be preoccupied by a break out at Arkham Asylum, curtsey of the Moreno family.”

The truck backed in as a notification popped up on your phone notifying you that the break out has started, “Ah perfect timing, make sure not a single case of those chemicals is dropped. The Joker might have already paid, but I'm not dealing with that crazy guy tonight,” you commanded, as you sit at your desk, “If a single case is dropped, shoot the soldier who dropped it”

As the truck arrived and the cases were carefully unloaded, (y/n) watched from the office, a sense of anticipation and unease washing over them. The night was filled with potential dangers, and (y/n) knew that they would have to be vigilant to ensure the success of their operation. The warehouse was a ticking time bomb, and a single misstep could lead to disaster.

Jason sat on the edge of a roof, under his red hood, watching as the last of the escapees were rounded up. A voice crackled through his comms, "That couldn't have been a coincidence," it was Red Robin. Jason grunted in agreement, nodding even though no one was around. Pressing a finger to the comm, he responded, "Yeah, it felt too organized. Oracle, thoughts?" he growled, his calm night shattered by the unexpected chaos.

“Red Robin is right, so are you, Red Hood," she replied, her voice filled with disbelief. "Batman interrogated one of the head guards. They were paid and blackmailed into releasing the prisoners." The mention of the Moreno family caught her attention. "They said something about the Moreno family?" she asked, her voice rising with concern.

"Tt, I've heard of them," Robin interjected, his tone filled with a mix of annoyance and respect. "Ruthless bunch. They're a branch of the Sicilian mafia. Mother and Grandfather often talked about them." The revelation sent a shiver down Oracle’s spine. The Moreno family was a dangerous force to be reckoned with, and their involvement in the Arkham Asylum breakout made the situation even more perilous.

A groan through the comm, "Why is it always the mafia?" Spoiler whined, Jason could practically hear her dramatic pout.

Jason rolled his eyes at her, "It's not always the mafia, Spoiler," Batman's gruff voice sounded, joining the call. "However, Robin is correct. The Moreno Family is known for their ruthless tactics and even more dangerous members. This begs the question: why are they in Gotham? They're usually only in Sicily or New York."

Batman's words hung heavy in the air. Red Hood couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. The Moreno family's presence in Gotham was a troubling development, and it was clear that something sinister was afoot. Their arrival could signal the start of a new era of crime in the city, a reign of terror that would rival even the Joker's.

Jason knew that they would have to be vigilant to prevent the Moreno family from establishing a foothold in Gotham. The city was already teetering on the brink of chaos, and the arrival of this powerful mafia family could push it over the edge.

"Oracle, were there any suspicious deliveries or anything coming into Gotham? Of the people who weren't involved tonight, this would leave Joker, Mr. Freeze, or Penguin. Perhaps one of them bought something from the mafia?" Red Robin queried, his voice filled with suspicion. The possibility that one of Gotham's most notorious villains had formed an alliance with the Moreno family was a terrifying prospect.

If any of the three had acquired a dangerous weapon or substance, it could spell disaster for the city. The thought of Joker armed with a new weapon or Mr. Freeze with a more powerful ice-based device sent shivers down Red Hood's spine. They would have to be prepared for anything.

Typing could be heard through the comms as Oracle, a.k.a. Barbara Gordon, investigated recent deliveries at the docks. "There was a shipment of weed killer coming from New York City today," she reported. "Although with the new information tonight, I doubt it was weed killer." Oracle sighed in exasperation.

Batman's voice called through the comms, "Let's reconvene at the Batcave. We can make a plan from there." Various voices agreed as they began to trek back to the Batcave. Jason's mind was a whirlwind of possible motives and thoughts. The Moreno family's presence in Gotham was a puzzle, and the mysterious shipment of weed killer only added to the intrigue.

As Jason made his way toward the Batcave, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were facing a formidable enemy. The Moreno family's arrival in Gotham was a harbinger of danger, and they would need to be prepared for anything.

(Y/n) grinned as a familiar, grinning man entered the office, guided by Matthis. "Ciao, Joker. It's fantastic to see you!" they exclaimed, rising to shake the madman's hand. "I hope the streets weren't too chaotic for you," they quipped, settling back behind their desk.

Joker let out a maniacal laugh, amused by the Capo's words. "I knew the Moreno family wouldn't let Batsy interfere," he cackled, beaming at (y/n). "So, I guess we're all set here. You have the hydrogen cyanide and Strychnodide?" (Y/n) nodded. "All I need from you now is your word that if caught with Moreno family goods, you won't snitch. And if we hear you plan to use these chemicals on children or wives, we won't hesitate to shoot first," they hissed, ensuring their point was clear. The Joker cackled, "I promise, little Moreno, it won't come to that," he assured, giving an exaggerated bow.

(Y/n) nodded, waving off the Joker's bow with a dismissive gesture. "Good, now leave," they commanded, leaning back in their chair. The leather creaked beneath their weight as the Joker cackled and departed, barking orders to his henchmen. Once the villain was out of sight, (Y/n) let out a low groan, rubbing the bridge of their nose. "God, that man gives me a headache," they grumbled, gazing up at the concrete ceiling. "Matthis, I think I'm going to go have some fun. Keep an eye on the Joker, and if he does anything we don't approve of, shoot him," they ordered, standing up. "I'm going bat hunting."

I hope you like my first Fanfiction! Let me know if I should write another chapter of What Comes Around!

Arrivederci!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Gary Taxali

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

August 30, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Aug 31, 2024

Trump and the MAGA movement garnered power through performances that projected  dominance and cowed media and opponents into silence. Rather than disqualifying him from the highest office in the United States, Trump’s mocking of a disabled reporter, bragging about assaulting women, and calling immigrants rapists and criminals seemed to demonstrate his dominance and strengthen him with his base. In July the Republican National Convention celebrated that performance with a deliberate appropriation of the themes of professional wrestling, including a display by an actual professional wrestler. 

Their plan for winning the 2024 election seems to have been to put forward more of the same. 

But the national mood appears to be changing. President Joe Biden’s decision to decline the Democratic nomination for president opened the way for the Democrats to launch a new, younger, more vibrant vision for the country. 

Democratic nominee Vice President Kamala Harris and her running mate, Minnesota governor Tim Walz, have promised to continue, and even to expand slightly, the programs that under the Biden-Harris administration have started the process of rebuilding the country’s infrastructure, bringing back manufacturing, and investing in industries to combat climate change. As the country did before 1981, they are promising to continue to focus on supporting a strong middle class rather than those at the top of the economy. 

Harris and Walz are building on this economic base to recenter the United States government on the idea of community. They have deliberately rejected the identity politics that Trump used so effectively to assert his dominance and have instead emphasized that they see the country not as a community defined by winners and losers, but as one in which everyone has value and should have the same opportunities for success. 

Last night, CNN’s Dana Bash asked Harris, whose mother immigrated to the U.S. from India and whose father immigrated from Jamaica, to respond to Trump’s suggestion that she “happened to turn Black” for political advantage, “questioning a core part of your identity.” Harris responded: “Same old, tired playbook. Next question, please,” and she laughed. “That’s it?” Bash asked. “That’s it,” Harris answered. 

Harris’s refusal to accept the MAGA terms of engagement, along with the exuberant support for Harris and Walz, has Trump, Republican vice presidential candidate J.D. Vance, and MAGA Republicans reeling. That, in turn, has made them seem vulnerable, and that vulnerability is now opening up room for pundits from a range of outlets to challenge them. They seem to be losing the ability to control the public conversation by asserting dominance. 

This change has been evident this week in the response to Trump’s visit to Arlington National Cemetery with the family of a soldier who died in the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan three years ago for campaign videos and photos attacking Harris, despite the fact that federal law prohibits campaign activities in the cemetery, in what is widely considered hallowed ground. The moment almost passed unnoticed, as it likely would have in the past, but Esquire’s Charles Pierce asked in his blog: “How The Hell Was Trump Allowed To Use Arlington National Cemetery As A Campaign Prop?”

Led by NPR, different outlets begin to dig into the story, and Trump, Vance, Trump’s spokesperson, and Trump’s campaign manager Chris LaCivita all tried to brush off their lawlessness with their usual rhetoric. Trump tried to change the subject to say he was being unfairly attacked for supporting a military family. Vance tried to suggest that Harris should have attended the private ceremony and that for criticizing it she should “go to hell,” although she hadn’t commented on it. The spokesperson suggested that the female cemetery official who tried to stop them was experiencing a “mental health episode,” and LaCivita, a leading figure in the Swift Boat veterans’ attacks on John Kerry in 2004, reposted an offending video to “trigger” Army officials, he said. 

It hasn’t flown. Today, MSNBC’s Dasha Burns asked Trump directly: “Should your campaign have put out those videos and photos?” Trump answered: “Well, we have a lot of people. You know, we have people, TikTok people, you know we’re leading the Internet. That was the other thing. We’re so far above her on the Internet….” Burns interrupted and followed up: “But on that hallowed ground, should they have put out the images…?” Trump said: “Well I don’t know what the rules and regulations are, I don’t know who did it, and, I, it could have been them. It could have been the parents. It could have been somebody….”

Burns interrupted again: “It was your campaign’s TikTok that put out the video.” Trump answered: "I really don't know anything about it. All I do is I stood there and I said, 'If you'd like to have a picture, we can have a picture.' If somebody did it; this was a setup by the people in the administration that, 'Oh, Trump is coming to Arlington, that looks so bad for us.’"

In the days since Biden stepped out of contention, Trump has been flailing—often complaining that it is “unfair” that Biden isn’t his opponent any longer—but his behavior has rocketed downhill since the new grand jury delivered a new indictment revising the four charges against him for trying to overturn the results of the 2020 presidential election and install himself in power. Karen Tumulty wrote in the Washington Post today that Trump is “spiraling,” noting that in the space of 24 hours he posted about Harris engaging in a sex act, promoted QAnon slogans, and called for prison for his political opponents. 

Tumulty notes that Trump’s team has been trying to get him to focus on the issues voters care about, but that after he “listlessly delivers some lines from the teleprompter,” he “gets bored and begins recycling the rants from his rallies.” Harris has stayed silent about his behavior, Tumulty says a campaign staffer told her, because “Why would we step in this man’s way?” The Harris campaign wants microphones left on throughout the planned September 10 debate, expecting that Trump will not be able to contain the rants that used to serve his interests but now turn voters off. 

To Vance is left the job of trying to clean up after Trump, but he’s not a skilled politician. Asked by John Berman about Trump’s social media attacks, Vance suggested that Trump was bringing “fun” and “jokes” to politics to “lift people up.” But observers on social media noted that claiming that attacks are “jokes” is a key part of asserting dominance. 

Vance himself went after Harris by saying that he had an early version of Harris’s CNN interview and then posting an old meme of a young Miss Teen USA who appeared to panic when answering a question and produced a nonsensical answer. When Berman told him that the young woman contemplated self-harm after becoming a national joke and asked if he would like to apologize for bringing up that old video, Vance declined to apologize, suggested we should “laugh at ourselves,” and repeated that we should “try to have some fun in politics.”

Vance got into deeper trouble, though, when asked to explain Trump’s statement when he told Dasha Burns that he opposes Florida’s six-week abortion ban. This November, Floridians will have to vote yes or no on a constitutional amendment that would put abortion rights similar to those of Roe v. Wade into the state constitution. 

Trump’s opposition to that amendment reflects the political reality that abortion bans are unpopular even in Republican-dominated states, but the MAGA base is fervently antiabortion. “That ‘thump thump’ you just heard is the entire pro-life movement going under the bus,” one wrote. 

A campaign spokesperson promptly tried to walk the statement back by saying that Trump “has not yet said how he will vote on the ballot initiative in Florida,” which Vance reiterated on CNN. When Berman pressed him on it, though, Vance appeared to lose the ability to hear the question, suggesting the feed was bad. 

This afternoon, Trump announced he will side with the antiabortion activists and vote against the amendment to the Florida constitution that would restore the rights that were in Roe v. Wade. Harris and Walz, meanwhile, have announced a national bus tour to highlight reproductive freedom. It will start in Palm Beach, Florida, where the Trump Organization’s Mar-a-Lago property is located. 

Today, lawyers for Ruby Freeman and Shaye Moss, the election workers Trump ally Rudy Giuliani defamed by accusing them of fraud in the 2020 election, asked a federal court to enforce the judgment that awarded them $146 million. They have asked for a court order requiring Giuliani to turn over his properties in New York and Florida, his luxury car, and his personal valuables including three New York Yankees World Series rings. Giuliani’s spokesperson accused the women of bullying Giuliani. 

The Lincoln Project, which believes that needling Trump is the best way to rattle him, today released a video that portrays Trump as a predatory animal who is old, past his prime, and abandoned by his pack. Rather than engaging in his final hunt, he has found himself the prey. The voice-over intones: “The circle of life eventually closes on all things.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[azspot]

Trump was an utterly lawless, incompetent, and cruel president whose policies ranged from moronic to homicidal. The prospect of him returning to office gives me the chills, especially since he has vowed to be even more extreme this time around. His supporters want to install him as a dictator and ram through a far-right agenda as quickly as possible, crushing all resistance and clamping down on domestic dissent.

Trump’s Worst Crimes Remain Unpunished

[blradley]

intro powerpoint for that one whacky passion project of mine -

Do you enjoy unreliable narrators with a distinctive voice?

Do you like characters who have done genuinely bad things, and now have to Work Through All That while consciously choosing to be better?

Do you like characters who have redemption arcs dangled in front of them, and instead choose to be worse?

Then jump aboard a flying whale and set sail into no man's sky with

Voxalion Ilsair: Grave of Gods!

Cursed by a relic of their long-dead gods, Vox and Mavrik are bound to each other, life to life. If one dies, so shall the other – which is a problem, as Vox wants to eradicate humanity, Mavrik included; and Mavrik wants nothing more than to kill Vox, the lightning elemental who slaughtered her family. Their only hope of breaking the curse lies in the gods' tomb, located on a legendary lost island that rises above the endless Eversea. Mavrik and Vox embark on an expedition, braving skywaymen and sapient storms, so they can be free of each other – and commence their overdue duel to the death. But Mavrik and Vox aren't the only ones seeking the grave of the gods. When they cross a cult intent on claiming the gods’ powers for themselves, Vox and Mavrik learn that they have far worse enemies than each other.

Genre: adult solarpunk fantasy Suitable age range: 15+ (no explicit content but some swearing, violence, and creepy monsters) Status: with my wonderful agent for edits!

Image Descriptions:

Powerpoint slide with a blue sky background. Text reads: “HUMANITY HAD FALLEN. Unfortunately, they got back up again.” The quote is attributed to: Voxalion Ilsair, being a prat, as per the uzshe

Dark blue sky background, title of Worldbuilding Be Upon Ye. Text reads: Okay so hear me out. What if the gods created an amazing utopia where technology and magic were intertwined and humans and zstragi (fey forces of nature) lived side by side But then something went wrong. Their world ripped itself apart and the mountains crumbled and the seas rose and some monstrous force came and wiped out all the gods?? What if an approximate ten thousand humans survived in nine flying cities, situated across the drowned globe? And what if they began rebuilding their civilization – clumsily, desperately, devastated by the loss of 99% of their population? What if they were living in hollowed-out solarpunk temples to the dead gods, surrounded bydangerous artifacts that they didn’t understand, desperately scrabbling for survival on a hostile planet? What if, gradually, the tales of their past became warped by myth and conflicted retelling? What if the humans and zstragi were at war? And had been for centuries? Because, in their relentless struggle of survival, they began to consume each other? What if there were whispers that a treasure trove of ancient knowledge had survived the Cataclysm, hidden deep in zstragi territory: the lawless, storm-ravaged chaos of No Man’s Sky? A meme-drawing of a stick figure holding their head and looking perturbed while covered in sweat, is tucked in one corner of the slide. The caption reads 'okay that's enough world building'

Turquoise sky background. Text reads: TL; DR: In a world where land is a long-lost legend… Where whale carcass blimps, fat with helium, swim through an endless lightning-lashed sky… Where flying cities are beset by sentient storms… …an unlikely group of heroes embarks on an epic journey…

Pale blue sky background with a flying whale. Text reading: That's right! It's Voxalion Ilsiar: Grave of Gods by B. L. Radley

Piccrew of Vox, a blue-green skinned hairless inhuman being with pointed ears, sharp teeth, three eyes, and facial tattoos. Introductory text reads: Voxalion Ilisair, they/them Your humble narrator, providing you with a 100% trustworthy recollection of events ❤️ zero bias here. none whatsoever❤️❤️ (okay so maybe they’re a zstragi terrorist who wants to annihilate humanity) (what a shame it would be if, over the course of the story, they begin to question everything they’ve been taught hahahaaha) Ridiculously OP lightning zstragi who was raised to be a mass-murder weapon. Then they got nerfed by a little girl Now that little girl is all grown up. The divine artifact that tore away Vox’s powers also bound them to her soul – meaning, if she dies, Vox dies. Dammit. Tinkerbell-sized, with attitude to match. N#1 fear: becoming human

Piccrew of Mavrik, a white tan-skinned woman with short fluffy pale blonde hair, blue eyes, and half her face torn off, with lightning scars radiating out from the hole in her cheek that shows off her molars. Text reads: Mavrik Skarr, she/her Vox’s worst enemy. Their foresworn foe. Their nefarious nemesis… Okay, so maybe Vox killed her family and tore her face and (quite literally) broke her heart, and Mavrik swore she would have revenge First though, she’s gotta undo this stupid curse As a stormhunter, Mav is employed to slay zstragi like Vox Grumpy and stoic, she struggles to emote. prefers grunting to talking, and fighting to grunting Has suffered from heart problems since The Curse. Uses Vox as a defibrillator/pacemaker. Basically an unsocialized feral kitten who has 0 clue how to interact with anyone she isn’t battling to the death Juggling her desire for friends against her natural awkwardness, her lack of experience with other humans, and that dark, ugly inclination towards violence that whispers away in the back of her mind… N#1 fear: becoming a monster

Secondary characters slide. First piccrew is of Oliaris, a Black man with a delicate, pretty face, wearing expensive jewellery. Text reads: Oliaris, he/him Nice friendly guy who never did anything wrong in his entire life (I lie. there are atrocities.) (he is coming to terms with the atrocities. But it’ll take a while… 😉) Delicate pretty city-boy who prefers the finer things in life, but is living the Chronic Pain LifeTM instead Super-smart ex-scientist. why ‘ex’? haha don’t worry about that Gets dragged into helping Vox and Mavrik break their curse – but has an agenda of his own… Second picture is of Atticus, a white man with red-brown hair and freckles, in a labcoat. Text reads: Atticus, he/him SPEAKING OF EXES AND ATROCITIES - Has a somewhat turbulent past with Oliaris (they fucked. they absolutely fucked. they 100%, totally fucked.) Now he’s Oliaris’ bitter rival, racing to beat him to the grave of the gods and the treasure trove of ancient knowledge stashed therein Shy, awkward people-pleaser who just wants everyone to like him 😔 Don’t ask about the bloodstains. just. don’t. 🙂

Tertiary characters. First piccrew is of Sylvestra, a Black woman with similiar features to Oliaris. Text reads: Sylvestra, she/her Oliaris’s sister: a professional storm-hunter employed by Atticus who detests her brother. For reasons. Tries to be cold-hearted and unfeeling. isn’t very good at it. Deep down, she just wants her family back :c Next piccrew shows an Asian individual with long black hair and a tattoo on their throat. Text reads: Jagura, they/them Captain of a skywayman ship that terrorizes the vessels of No Man’s Sky Impulsive and friendly, but ruthless. Will rob you while chatting like you’re besties Here for a good time, not a long time xoxo Piccrew 3: a bulky purple inhuman creature with long pointed ears and tattoos. Text reads: Renzou, he/him Jagura’s loyal first mate Will rob you while apologizing profusely Protective and kind Humans are friends, not food! Fourth piccrew: a white boy with pale hair and very blue eyes. Text reads: ??? [no name or pronouns] Once upon a time, a boy crawled into the mouth of a dead whale. What crawled out was changed forever…

stormy grey background to the slide. text reads: One shared goal: To pilot their whale blimp safely through no man’s sky and find the lost grave of gods Conflicting ambitions: To undo a curse. to regain lost power to kill an old enemy. to restore reputation. To seek priceless treasure. To save the world – wait, what?

Quotes page, set against a blue sky background. Quotes are: ‘Zstragi ate humans, sure. But humans devoured us with equal impunity: crushing our heart-stones, shredding our life-force to add power to their grid and keep their impossible cities aloft.’ ‘As occurred approximately two dozen times a day, Mav got that look on her face that meant she was contemplating tossing me into the oceans and letting fate run its course. As also occurred approximately two dozen times a day, she decided against it. Grudgingly.She and I were trapped together. For better or worse, in sickness or health, till death did we part…’ “I spy with my three glowing eyes…” “Shut up, Vox.” and ‘The distant slurry of Mavrik’s thoughts slid against my own, lumpy with old memories. Dead parents, dead families. Dead-dead-dead; burnt from the inside out, eyeballs popped like squashed flies and tongues crisped to charcoal— Time was said to heal all wounds, but it couldn’t erase their scar. I awkwardly cleared my throat.’

Themes page, with a picture of several angel statues. Text reads: The way ahead is fraught with danger. Secrets abound, old  grudges flare, and hungry storms gather on the horizon… Themes: Humanity. What does it mean, to be human? Are some cruelties so great that the offender should never be redeemed? Equality. At what point do we decide that one life is worth more than another? Why? Family. How do you know when a bond is broken beyond repair?

Dark blue sky background, with text reading: What else have we got? #macguffins #unreliable narrator #enemies to…? #lovers to rivals #copious footnotes #corruption arcs #redemption arcs #multiple queer and disabled characters! #body horror #unique cultures #flying whales #solarpunk aesthetic #in-depth, innovative world building. A stick-figure meme sits in one corner, showing a character grabbing another person's shoulders and digging their nails in to hit blood, their face a grimace of pain. The text beneath reads: 'so much more world building'

[eugenedebs1920]

In their last term, The Supreme Court of the United States of America (SCOTUS), mainly the men, but occasionally Barrett showed the American people how little we are worth to them. They made it blatantly obvious that we are nothing more than serfs, subjugated, whose purpose is to pay taxes and STFU.

This was also made apparent with the reversal of Roe. The 2023-24 term had its share of long term dire consequences yet to be felt. The overturning of the Chevron doctrine was a devastating blow to the middle class/working poor. Its reversal will, at one time or another, affect the lives of 98% of Americans (the middle class, upper middle and working poor).

The right wing apparatus will tell you that regulations, protections, and limitations prohibit productivity which leads to less profits and in turn, a cooling of economic prosperity. What they aren’t divulging is the massive amounts of wealth they have amassed over the past 4 decades.

As far back as the Nixon administration, one could go back as far as the New Deal but, it’s a post, not a novel, certain restrictions, limitations, protective measures, and practices have been imposed on major corporations and industries. These regulations range from environmental protection, labor practices, safety standards, hazardous substances, banking practices, equal pay, the list goes on.

These regulatory agencies specialize in the field in which suits their skill set. Some call it the bureaucratic state. These non partisan civil servants work throughout changing administrations in their various fields without being inhibited by the views held by the party in power.

What the overturning of Chevron did is lessen the power that these agencies have. Putting the rules and regulations they enforced in peril. Now regulations created to protect the health and safety of Americans and the environment we live in, as well as the financial institutions and practices in which they can engage in, are put in peril.

The effects of this won’t be immediately noticeable. We are the frog in a warm pot of water, slowly being boiled to death. What does this have to do with Helene and future natural disasters one may ask?

Some of those regulatory agencies impacted by this reversal are, the EPA, FEMA, NOAA, the Department of Labor, OSHA, The FCC, the SEC, and so many more. Pretty much any agency that limits the exploitation these massive conglomerates and giant corporations can impose on Americans and the world they reside in.

We live in a time where the Supreme Court is rogue. With an extreme right wing MAGA majority, dead set on revoking rights as opposed to instilling them. A Supreme Court who, when scandals arose of lavish gifts coming from billionaire benefactors, rather than enforce a code of ethics they simply legalized bribery (Snyder vs the United States). A Supreme Court, so lawless and void of standards, that justices refuse to recuse themselves from constitutional crises cases, where they flew flags in support of the defendant, where the wife of another was in direct contact with the cheif of staff of a man who, while watching from the dining room of the White House, while a mob, led by his incendiary rhetoric ramshacked our capital. All the while chants of “hang Mike Pence, Hang Mike Pence” rang through the the halls of that hallowed ground. When told the mob wanted to hurt the Vice President, the defendant said, “So what”.

I’ve had tacos more supreme than this court! This November 5th, it is not a choice between a vile demented old man and a lifetime protector and prosecutor for the people, it is the direction, the safety, the environment, the lending practices, the food we eat, the wages we make, the lives our children will have that is the choice because. If Trump is elected, Alito as well as Thomas WILL retire, giving the mandarin Mussolini FIVE SCOTUS appointments. This will dictate the next 30 plus years of our lives. So please! Get out and vote! Vote the Harris Walz ticket and blue down ballot. The freedoms of women, LGBTQ rights, labor rights, environmental protections, food and drug safety, fair banking/lending practices, our federal lands, clean water, green energy for the future, so much hangs in the balance and the effects will be felt for a majority of the rest of our lives. We are one nation, indivisible, we stand for liberty and justice for all! ☮️🇺🇸

[hyperactively-me]

on the run

“Ah, it's fine, I’ll just need some bacta patches and it’ll be fine. Besides, it's just a bruise” you say quietly, your face flushing. “I’m going to kill him” Din rasped, taking your hands in a movement to pull you to standing. 

just wanted to ask you guys to please read this

(asks are open)

happy reading

warnings: canon typical violence

You were uneasy about this job from when it was first proposed. You felt a pit in the depths of your stomach that signaled that something did not feel right. Although you understood why Din was so eager about accepting the job. He wanted more credits to upgrade parts of his ship and armor. You tried everything you could to push these feelings of doubt away but to no avail. Approaching Din about the job only turned into a heated argument about how it was necessary to ensure a few weeks worth of credits. 

Things got a little dicey. Okay, more than a little dicey. You were currently fending for yourself against two cronies employed by a prominent spice lord on Nar Shaddaa. Nar Shaddaa, of all places. Din could have picked any other planet, but no, there’s too many commissions on Nar Shaddaa to turn this down, besides, with this mission, I could earn a lot of credits. I’ll be fine, I’ve probably encountered worse before. 

Nar Shaddaa is a cosmopolitan planet practically owned by the Hutts, crime and lawlessness was bursting from every sidewalk, market, and building. An overabundance of illegal activity permeated the streets, every nook and cranny of the metropolitan planet corrupt. 

Din took on a job hunting down the leader of a high profile crime ring in the heart of the city. He took on the assignment knowing the risks and dangers, but, who was Din if he ever turned down an opportunity like this? An opportunity to return to the company after taking down a criminal that no one else could take down. Coming back to the guild and earning an even higher degree of respect? Oh, he said it was just too good to turn down, we’ll be fine, I can handle it. You decided to help him on his mission because the more muscle he had, the higher his chances of success were.

So of course, he managed to infiltrate the ring and blow it up from the inside out, creating pandemonium in the streets.

In the midst of the chaos that arose from the raid, you both managed to get separated, desperately fighting for each of your survival, focused on coming out alive. 

So here we are now, you’re shaken to your core as you play a lethal game of tag. Your heart threatens to beat out of its chest as you snap your head backwards only to see how hot on your tail the two bounty hunters were to you.

You touch your earpiece connecting you to Din and cry out “Din! I’m being tailed by two guys, where the kriff are you?”

A tall and burly Trandoshan was gaining on you whilst an orange-skinned Twi’lek dodged the crowded street. Deep and heavy breaths escape your dry throat as you focus all your brain power on formulating a plan and escaping without getting yourself killed, or worse, taken.  

“Din, I don’t know if you can hear me, but so help me Maker, I need a little assistance right now so it would be wonderful if you showed up.” You tried to make yourself sound angry and demanding, but in truth, you were scared for your life. 

Continuously dodging innocent bystanders and merchant stands take a toll on your stamina, slowing you down as you concentrate on where your feet are landing. The ringing noise of blaster shots rang out from behind you, causing you to duck your head in an attempt to protect yourself, just for precaution. You start heaving, trying to gulp air into your lungs like it's the last thing you can do to save yourself from collapsing from exhaustion. You look back once more and let out a loud yelp as the Trandoshan’s grubby hands were barely grazing the back of your shirt. You felt your blood run cold and your heart stopped beating for a split second, the adrenaline pumping through you fading. 

It was too late before you realized you lost sight of the Twi’lek when an orange blur came hurtling into your side, effectively ending the pursuit and toppling you over onto the uneven stones. 

Your vision goes hazy and you realize you can’t breathe. Your breaths are shallow and labored and your eyes struggle to focus. 

No no no please no I can’t stop now you panic, trying to set your brain straight after the impact.

A haze of orange and a mass of an alien face clouds your vision before you feel rough hands yanking your arms up in an attempt to set you up straight. Your head lurches forward and you screw your eyes shut in an attempt to focus your vision. The Trandoshan is manhandling you, and as a final attempt to break free, you resort to a classic self-defense trick. You knee him right in the groin.

He drops your arms quickly and doubles over, groaning in pain, and before he can stop you, you take off running. Or at least you think you’re running. Your head is pounding and your vision is streaked with black dots. You only get so far before the Twi’lek tackles you again, this time effectively taking you down. 

Everything is too much, the scene around you is too much. Everything hurts. Everything is too bright, too loud, too rough. The Twi’lek lets out a cruel snicker and slaps binders on your wrists before dragging you standing upwards. You falter, not capable of standing on your feet after the two collisions by two men who are much larger in stature than you. 

“Well well, you thought you could do that and just get away with it?” the Trandoshan sneers as he stalks over to you and the Twi’lek. As your vision begins to clear, you take note of the large, shiny knife in his possession. Your face pales a bit as you look up at the angry Trandoshan’s face. 

He raises his hand, and without hesitation, slaps you straight across the face. You falter from the contact as the Twi’lek catches you before you crumple over completely. He laughs maniacally before throwing your body over his shoulder. Tears flood your vision, your face stinging like a million wasps stung your face. 

Well that’s gonna leave a lovely mark. You winced at the thought of Din seeing the hand print on your face, not because you were scared of him, but because you were scared for the well-being of the Trandoshan. 

Your world bobs up and down as your two captors navigate back to their base. You catch bits of the mens’ conversation, trying your best to piece together any useful information you could. You send out a silent prayer that Din is alright, and that he’ll show up and you’ll both be fine, because right now, you were panicking. Usually you both had each other's backs in strenuous situations like this, and more often than not, you were both able to withstand more hits and blows. But being carried back to a now dead crime lord’s haven led by Maker knows who was a new low for you. 

You start to thrash in your captor’s grip, smacking your bound wrists against his stiff back with all your might. 

“What the- hey, cut that out” he grumbles, not amused with your poor attempts to stop him. 

“Kriff you” you bite out angrily, upset that you’re now their hostage, upset that you weren’t capable enough of defending yourself in this situation, and torn over the fact that you haven’t heard anything from Din in a while. You hadn’t heard anything from him in a while…

Maybe he was captured? you thought. Yeah, a guy like Din, a man notorious for his elusiveness and strategic logic is definitely captured right now. But he wouldn’t leave me, right? Right? Unless…he probably did leave you, like how everyone else you cared about in the past did. Maker, I really thought we had something. You hold back a sob as it builds up in your throat. You had hope that Din saw you as something more, after everything you’ve been through. Or maybe he was captured. Or even worse…don't even think about that. 

The side of your cheek where you were slapped begins to throb, swelling from the harsh impact of the greasy slimeball’s burly hand. A bruise was bound to erupt from the site of damage. 

All of a sudden you hear the Trandoshan scream out, followed by a crunch and a thud. The Twi’lek becomes rigid, fingernails digging harshly into the back of your knees as he slowly backs away from whatever or whoever attacked the Trandoshan. You tense under his grip, unaware of what is presenting the danger, and you begin to squirm under his grip. 

Next thing you know, the Twi’lek body slams you onto the cold ground, knocking the wind out of your lungs, leaving you dizzy and disoriented from the sudden aggression. He digs his steel-toed boot deep into your chest, pressing against your abdomen with enough force to cause potential bruising. You glance upward at the Twi’lek hovering over you and a glint of metal catches your eye. He has a blaster pointed right at your chest. Your breath catches in your throat and your mouth dries. 

“I suggest you don’t take another step towards me, otherwise I’ll shoot her” the Twi’lek calls out to the mystery person in front of you. 

Your heart halts in your chest, breath slows as you realize the gravity of the situation. You were practically helpless, incapable of making any move without potentially ending your life. You still under his boot, attempting to assess the situation. 

The air around you stills, a chill runs up your spine. 

“I think you’ve got someone that doesn’t belong to you. If you return her to me unharmed, I might just let you live” a gravelly and husky voice calls out lazily. That voice. Din’s voice. 

He came you practically cried out of desperation and relief. You strain your neck backwards to look at him. As soon as you make eye contact with his visor you flash him a weak smile to let him know that you’re relieved and glad to see him.

His form relaxes slightly as you hope you make eye contact with him through the dark visor of his helmet. Something seems to flash over his demeanor, but the moment is gone within a second. He turns back to the Twi’lek, who still has the blaster trained at your chest.

“Oh, you might just let me live. How wonderful. But I’m afraid I can’t let that happen, so either let me get through or the girl dies” the Twi’lek shouts out as he shoves the blaster closer to your chest. 

“Alright, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you” Din calls out quickly before whipping out his own blaster. Before the Twi’lek can even register what’s happening, Din shoots the man straight in the chest. 

The Twi’lek crumples, folding in on himself before falling over onto his side, lifeless. You scramble on the stones, pushing yourself away from the body as fast as you can while still restrained.

You hear Din call out your name as he rushes to your side, dropping to his knees without hesitation.

“Are you hurt?” his hands roam up and down your body, assessing it for any damage before sighing with relief that there were no broken bones or blood. 

You let your head rest on the ground, taking gulps of air as your anxiety lessened. 

“I- I guess I’m fine. Just shaken up a bit” you croak out, pulling at the metal cuffs rubbing away at the skin around your wrists.

He gently grabs hold of your wrists, his eyes narrowing as he inspects the cuffs. 

“Give me a sec” he says distractedly, rummaging through his utility belt for a tool that could free you from your confinements. A moment goes by before he whips out a lock-picker of some sort. He slots the gadget into the small keyhole on your cuffs, jiggling it around before a small click rang through the air. The cuffs dropped to the ground and you let out a hiss at the raw skin. 

“Thanks” you whisper before gently sitting up, grimacing as you go.

“Your face…” Din points out, his voice hushed and severe. “What did they do to you?” He sounds ready to pounce, prepared to tear apart anyone who hurt you. 

His hand reaches up to touch the mark that’s now flourishing into a bruise on your cheek, and you wince as he applies a slight pressure to the mark. 

“Ah, it's fine, I’ll just need some bacta patches and it’ll be fine. Besides, it's just a bruise” you say  quietly, your face flushing.

“I’m going to kill him” Din rasped, taking your hands in a movement to pull you to standing. 

“I think you already did…” you grimace as you look over to the Trandoshan laying face down lifeless on the ground.

“Oh…less work for me then” he huffed out. 

You slightly falter when he pulls you completely up, head still spinning from the hits you took while trying to fight them off. Din catches you with a quick inhale, wrapping his strong arms around your back and under your arm to support you as you both walk back to the ship. 

As you continue to walk in silence, you can almost feel the anger rolling off Din, his helmet set straight ahead. 

As your adrenaline wears off from the scuffle, you remember how you even got in this situation to begin with: Din was nowhere to be found and unresponsive.

“Din, where the kriff were you? I needed you back there” you implored, your mind was racing and hot tears began to prick the corners of your eyes.

“I was-” he starts quietly before you relentlessly cut him off.

“Where? I really needed you back there, I was so scared and I thought you died! What happened?” you cry out, a wave of emotion crashing down on you. You try to pull yourself away from his grip, slightly thrashing in his arms. 

“Stop, you’re only going to worsen your injuries” he says slowly, eyes looking everywhere but yours. 

“No, I thought you left me. I really thought you felt nothing between us, thought you were using me for your own benefit! Don’t you understand?” you successfully free yourself from his stronghold on you and you begin hitting his chest with your hands fisted. 

Din stares you down, unmoving from his position. He sighs as he grabs hold of your fists, pulling them away and holding them to stop your attacks.

“Listen, I did what I had to do back there. If I hadn’t diverged from where you were going, neither of us would be alive” his jaw ticked as he seethed. 

You stopped and gazed up into the darkness of his visor, the strong grip he had on your fists loosen until he dropped them completely.

“Okay…but don’t pull stupid stunts like that without telling me first. I really thought you left me” a watery voice replaces your anger like whiplash.

Din relaxes, and pulls you tight against his chest in a reassuring hug.

“I would never leave you. Ever. I have a responsibility to protect you, and I didn’t fulfill that responsibility. I’m sorry” he reassured, arms tightening around your torso. 

Your arms wrap around his own torso, and you turn your un-bruised cheek against his chest, eyes overflowing with tears. 

His right hand comes up to rest in your hair, pressing his chest more firmly into it.

“You swear?” you question through a sniffle.

“I promise.”

[kisarastrife]

Ah lads.

What's happening in Dublin tonight is utter unabashed selfishness and utilising a tragedy in the name of lawlessness.

For anyone out of the loop, Dublin in Ireland had an atrocious incident today where people, including children, were stabbed outside a school. The male suspect was arrested. No one else is sought in relation to this incident.

A 5-year-old little girl is undergoing emergency treatment. There's no excuse nor reason for it. It was outrageous and horrendous. Rumours have spiraled of the male suspect being a so-called 'non-national'. So what? A criminal is a criminal, the back ground doesn't matter.

But the riots and protests in the capital city in the so-called name of that little girl are a charade for people looting and attacking Gardaí. The Irish police force are 95% unarmed; specialist units have firearms and a range of non-lethal weapons. Regular on the street Gardaí have pepper-spray and a retractable baton, that's it. But these allegedly 'protesting' people are isolating Gardaí, beating them up, assaulting them, setting fire to police cars, public buses, public trams, looting shops, setting off fireworks at officers and threatening to kill immigrants.

This is wrong.

And it's a sad day for Ireland when the people on the dole and job-seekers are the ones who are setting a reputation for our country, not the law-abiding people just trying to get by.

A little girl and others were stabbed by a man who was immediately arrested and prevented from doing any more harm. How does looting shops and assaulting people just doing their jobs really stand up for that 5 year old?

[dmitriene]

ᴜɴᴄʜᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀꜱ.

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝, 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝚖𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍, 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚙𝚎𝚝 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜. 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚘𝚗, 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛. 𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝚑𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚘 @daydreamrot, 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌 𝚒 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍, 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔!

ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ)

The pirate infested world was marked by sharp contrasts and constant danger.

The long seas stretched on endlessly, their vast expanses offering both freedom and danger, the horizon seemingly disappearing into infinity as azure waters met the boundless sky, a canvas of ever changing blues and grays that held the secrets of uncharted territories.

Among these vast seas stood the tall ships like formidable giants, their wooden hulls proudly rising above the waves, they were majestic ships, their sails fluttered in the wind like great white wings, each ship bore the stamp of adventure, their decks were full of the unbridled energy of the crew, driven by promises treasures and conquests.

Flags, bright and tattered, fluttered defiantly in the wind, these symbols of piracy were decorated with menacing skulls and crossbones, which was a declaration of rebellion against the established order, they clicked and crackled in the wind, reminding that the world of pirates is a kingdom of lawlessness, where chaos reigns and freedom.

The sound of shoes on the wooden surface echoed throughout the ship in a rhythmic echo reflecting the heartbeat of the crew, the worn and weathered planks underfoot bore the marks of countless journeys, their groans and creaks told stories of the ship's battles and victories, the worn wood was a testament to the resilience of the ship and its crew, the enduring strength, who dared to challenge the unpredictable sea.

Amidst this symphony of sounds, the unmistakable clash of swords rang through the air, it was the sound of steel meeting steel, the furious dance of battle that was as much a part of pirate life as looted treasure, brave pirates with cutlass and daggers fought fierce duels on the slippery decks, their movements reflected skill and ferocity.

Spatters of scarlet blood stained the eerie tapestry against the wooden deck, it was a stark reminder of the cruelty that accompanied the pirate lifestyle, a life in which violence and death were constant companions, the crimson stains contrasted sharply with the pristine white sails overhead, testifying to the ruthless nature of those who sought happiness on the high seas.

Theft was rampant and became an integral part of pirate culture, with crew members being thieving adventurers who carried out raids and plunders at will.

Treasures stolen from other ships were hidden below deck — a glittering collection of ill gotten gains that spoke of the pirates's insatiable greed, for whom wealth was a means to an end, a way to ensure their freedom and independence in a world that sought to crush them.

Countless battles broke out on the decks of pirate ships, clashes of wills and egos as unpredictable as the stormy sea itself, the crew a motley group of misfits and criminals, each with their own goals and passions.

Betrayals and alliances were forged in the heat of battle, and trust was a rare and fragile commodity in this unforgiving world.

And you unwittingly plunged into this world, a world where danger and adventure intertwined like the threads of fate, your decision to leave behind the life you knew threw you into the very heart of this turbulent world, where survival depended on your wits, courage and alliances that you may have created.

The air thickened with tension as you stood in the dimly lit hallway of your father's grand estate.

The mansion itself was a vast, luxurious structure with high ceilings, decorated with intricate chandeliers that gave off a soft golden glow, it was a place of privilege and tradition, a reflection of the life that had been carefully planned for you.

But today everything was different.

Tonight was supposed to be your wedding night, an alliance orchestrated by your father to secure a strategic alliance with another powerful family, the heavy white wedding gown with layers of satin and lace hung heavily on your shoulders, a symbol of the life that was being forced upon you.

The grand ballroom below was ablaze with light and music, a lavish celebration in full swing, the sweet sounds of a string quartet wafting from where you stood, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing in your heart.

You've never felt more trapped, more suffocated by the expectations placed on you.

Your decision to run was desperate, born out of a desire for freedom and independence in your own life, you slipped away into the night, determined to escape the marriage that loomed like a ghost in your future.

As you made your way through the labyrinthine hallways, your footsteps were barely audible on the plush carpets, the flickering candles lining the walls cast elongated shadows that danced with your every move, creating a sense of eerie urgency.

The darkness of the night outside beckoned you like a siren's call and you couldn't help but cast a wistful glance at one of the ornate windows, the moonlight poured into the hallway, painting the world beyond in shades of silver and gray, it was a world of mystery and uncertainty, a drastic departure from the privileged life you left behind.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tiptoed towards the window, your breath catching with every step, the night air carrying notes of salt and adventure, whispering the promise of a life free from the constraints of society.

The decision to leave was not taken lightly, it was an act of defiance, a declaration that you would not be bound by the chains of tradition and expectations that were demanded of you, but it was also a leap into the unknown, a step into a world where survival would depend on your intelligence and courage.

Outside, the moon hung low in the sky, its silvery glow filling the landscape with an unearthly glow, tall trees swayed softly in the wind, their branches rustling like a secret shared between trusted individuals, the night held its own certain secrets, and you were about to be a part of them.

Taking one last wistful look at the world you left behind, you threw open the window and slipped out into the night, your shadow tiptoeing as you moved stealthily through the darkness, a lonely figure escaping the trappings of a life that was never truly yours.

The journey ahead was uncertain, but it was a journey of your own choosing, a journey into the unknown where your destiny would be determined by your own choices and where the night promised adventure and freedom.

A silvery glow was cast like a magical haze onto the vast expanses of the sea.

Tall ships rocked on the gentle waves, their flags fluttered in the cool wind, the air was filled with the unique aroma of salt and adventure, this was the world of pirates, and you willingly threw yourself into its depths, leaving behind your sheltered life and the prospect of an unwanted wedding.

Your journey had led you to this moment — a secret landing aboard a pirate ship, you slipped through the shadows of the night, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and excitement.

As you stepped onto the wooden deck, the creaking of the boards under your feet echoed in your ears, a stark reminder of the dangerous path you had chosen.

The crew of the pirate ship was a motley crew, rough and uncouth, the sound of clashing swords filled the air and the deck was splattered with scarlet blood, theft and countless fights were common, but you were prepared for it.

What you weren't prepared for was the merciless ridicule and rudeness that followed your arrival.

The pirates, a loud group with a penchant for mischief, wasted no time in making their presence known, they pushed and prodded you, their laughter reminiscent of a chorus of hyenas, your snow white dress, a stark contrast to the threadbare attire of the rest of the group, became the object of their ridicule.

They tore off your sleeves and hem with reckless abandon, making you feel vulnerable and unprotected.

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked around in confusion, desperately seeking refuge from this onslaught of humiliation, but the captain finally intervened.

Leon Kennedy.

He stepped out of the shadows, wearing black tight pants and a loose, flowing white pirate shirt unbuttoned at the base of his collarbones, his hair combed to one side and a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

You begged him for help, your voice trembled with despair, making his gaze turn in your direction, and his glance at you was skeptical, he raised an eyebrow, as if assessing the situation — «And what could you offer in exchange for my help?» he asked, his voice dripping with playful arrogance.

You swallowed hard, your resolve strengthening — «Anything» you answered, your voice unshakable — «I'll do anything you ask»

A smirk tugged at the corners of Leon's lips as he casually leaned against the foremast — «Anything, you say? Well, then, my dear, how about we put that bravery of yours to the test?»

Your heart raced as you waited for his command.

Leon's eyes sparkled mischievously as he delivered his verdict — «I'll help you, but first, you must prove your mettle, take a walk along the board and jump into the water, show us just how brave you really are»

The crew erupted into loud applause and laughter, the prospect of entertainment lifting their spirits as you glanced nervously at the narrow wooden plank protruding over the side of the ship.

It was a dangerous walk, especially in the dim moonlight, but you were determined to prove yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you picked up the torn hem of your dress and stepped onto the wobbly board, laughter and teasing comments following you as you carefully walked along the edge, your heart pounding in your chest, the wind whipping through your hair and traces of mascara stuck to your cheeks from earlier tears.

You reached the edge of the board, your heart caught in your throat, it was a heartbreaking moment as you looked at the dark water below.

With the crew's jeers and applause echoing in your ears, you realized that in that moment you had no choice but bring this matter to an end.

Gathering up all your courage, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, then with a determined look on your face, you pushed off the board and dove into the cold water below, the cold sending a shiver down your spine as you struggled to float to the surface.

Leon cursed under his breath as he watched you disappear under the water, and without hesitation he made his way through the crowd, determined to bring you back, and moments later his strong arms wrapped around your trembling body and pulled you back onto the deck.

The crew fell silent, their raucous laughter replaced by a feeling of trepidation and worry, you coughed and hissed, your chest heaving as you gasped, Leon's gaze boring into you, a mixture of irritation and something deeper flashing in his eyes.

— «Are you out of your mind?» he growled, his voice low and hoarse with concern — «You could have drowned»

You managed a weak smile, your teeth chattering from the cold — «But i didn't, i did it, just like you asked»

Leon's stern expression softened and he shook his head in disbelief «You're certainly braver than most» he admitted — «I suppose i should have expected nothing less from someone who would defy convention to join a crew of pirates»

As the crew gradually dispersed, leaving the two of you alone on the moonlit deck, Leon extended his hand to help you to your feet, and you accepted it gratefully, grateful for his unexpected rescue and the tension between you began to dissipate, replaced by a newfound understanding.

The night air was cool, but in the warmth of Leon's gaze you felt comfort and connection, it was the beginning of an adventure you never expected, a journey into uncharted waters where danger and excitement lurked at every turn, but as you stood there, wet and shivering, you couldn't help but feel like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

Leon Kennedy, the mysterious pirate captain, unexpectedly became part of your story, and as the ship sailed forward into the vast expanses of the sea, you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises this daring adventure would bring and how your relationship with the charming captain would further develop amidst trials and tribulations. the hardships of a pirate's life.

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