#you sly dog

[spcctz]

100?!

[youjustwaitsunshine]

no way did seb time his instagram posts that abu dhabi 2010 is scheduled on his birthday

[illiana-mystery]

That smirk tho...

[waltwhitmansbeard]

go on, claim my heart: chapter thirty-eight

see my masterpost for what came before this.

Keyleth cannot move, yet her heart thunders wildly in her chest. Her blood is rushing so fast in her ears that she can barely hear Vallen speak.

And he is speaking, leaned back against the wall of her chambers, arms crossed casually as if they were discussing the merits of a chess strategy and not his elaborate and violent scheme to take control of the Ashari Nation.

"You have no idea how long I have been working toward this, Keyleth—may I call you Keyleth?" His grin is carnal, bestial. "Anyway, yes, these pieces have been in place for some time. I suppose you ought to know; it isn't as if you'll be divulging my secrets once we're done here."

He means to kill her. Even beneath the blaze of terror, she cannot ignore the flick of annoyance at yet another attempt on her life.

She is sitting ramrod straight on the settee, and Vallen comes to perch just on the edge of the little table in front of her, so their eyes are of a level. "I suppose you ought to know that it is I who killed your mother."

Her heart stops.

"Not personally, of course. There are those who take money for such tasks—like that bastard assassin you married. That..." He chuckles, and the sound sours Keyleth's stomach. "...that was a surprise, to be sure. But then, you're full of surprises, aren't you, princess?" He says the word with scorn, with derision. "But yes, your mother. I know what you're thinking: oh, Vallen, but you're so young! Impossible for you to be involved in a murder nearly a decade and a half ago!" He gestures toward his pointed ears. "It's the gnomish blood, of course. I look far younger than one might guess.

"Ah, stay on task, Vallen." He stands and begins to pace, and Keyleth's eyes dart to the door. Surely Vax will be returning at any moment. He's already been gone for so long. "I meant to kill your mother before she could create a new generation of Zephran heirs, but there were political matters at home in Vesrah, boring affairs, not worth discussing, but it meant delaying my plans a bit. Now you might find my methods distasteful, and fair enough, but I would never kill an infant.

"So I waited until you were a bit older, no longer so reliant on your mother for survival, and then, well, poison looks quite a great deal like illness when no one is looking for poison."

Despite her inability to move, tears slip steadily down Keyleth's face. Her mother had been murdered. All this time, and she never knew. Her father died not knowing the truth, and now is she to take it to her grave?

"My plan for my own family took longer. Grandmother is a powerfully paranoid woman, and it took some...finagling, shall I say, to put all of those particular ducks in a row. She is finally of an age where death would not be a surprise, even if helped along by a brew of toxins, and then, of course, the family gathering in Syngorn was simply too good an opportunity to pass up."

"But you!" He gestures to her grandly. "You weren't even supposed to be there!"

Keyleth frowns, confused, but the confusion is swept away by the shock at being able to frown at all. Vallen's control over her is waning. She attempts to surreptitiously gather in a large gulp of air so that she may scream for help, but Vallen clicks his tongue and snaps his fingers again, and her muscles harden in place once more.

"My apologies! Such a brief spell, needs constant management. But as I was saying: yes, you, of course, were meant to die on the road to Syngorn. Serves me right for hiring cheap sellswords. It was part of my deal with Finefirn: his men kill my brothers and father and aunt, and I make sure that your death on the road was pinned on Draconia, thereby continuing the war that was so profitable to him.

"But you're like a little cockroach, aren't you, Keyleth?" The jovial, charming tone slips away, leaving an annoyed snarl in its place. "One wouldn't think killing a single silly, sheltered princess would be the hardest part of my plan. Wouldn't die in the woods, wouldn't die in Syngorn—hell, you wouldn't even die when Finefirn came after you!" She did die then, but there is a perverse satisfaction in knowing that he does not know that.

He sighs. "And then you had to go and spawn another obstacle for me." Keyleth feels as though she's been doused in ice water; there is so little distance between him and Vilya. "I told you, I'm not interested in slaughtering babies. My friends in Whitestone, however..." He trails off with a conspiratorial smile, waiting for Keyleth to put the pieces together.

Of course. She'd wondered how the Briarwoods knew about Vilya, why they would take such an extraordinary risk in taking her when surely other infants with magic in their blood exist in the world. They, too, had been one cog in Vallen's grand machinations. “They were good people, the Briarwoods.” He snorts. “Who am I kidding? They were terrible people. But then, so am I, and I’ve always appreciated the tenacity of those who will stop at nothing to achieve their aims. I’ve been helping them for a while—becoming immortal is no small feat, after all, and few deserve the honor more than my dear Delilah—and they, in turn, have been helping me. It was they who recommended Finefirn; apparently he’d done good work for them in their initial onslaught on Whitestone. I could never have made it this far without their help.

"Of course, once again you and your merry band of misfits meddled in my schemes. But at this point, Grandmother is almost certainly dead, and you'll be gone before the sun sets, and then, well, the young princess will need a regent, won't she? Who better than a minor duke who never had any aspirations for the throne?" He laughs at his own joke, then grows serious. "Of course, she'll have a terrible accident when she's, oh, seven or eight. Children are so clumsy, aren't they?"

He snaps his fingers again, and once more her loosening muscles tighten, and Keyleth wishes she could vomit. Vallen stomps over to her, fumbling about in the pocket of his trousers. "I'm done talking. This—" He pulls a stoppered vial from his pocket, and in it is a clear liquid, one that, if she had to guess, would turn to sludge shortly after being exposed to air. "—with any luck will actually kill you this time. It'll seem to the outside as if your heart gave out under the weight of your grief. Such a fragile thing you are." He traces a finger mockingly down her cheek, and she wishes she could snap her head to the side and bite it off. Her eyes dart to the door again, and he notices this time. "Don't worry about the guards." Another snap of his fingers, and a sound fills the room: weeping, quiet, feminine, hers. "They won't bother you in your mourning."

He seizes her jaw then, clutching it painfully in one hand as he jerks her mouth open. He thumbs off the stopper of the vial and pours the liquid, completely flavorless, down her throat. She has little choice but to let it slide down, seeping into her roiling belly. He grins. “Your destiny awaits you, princess. And I must go claim the one I built for myself.” He shoves her head away and she falls back against the settee. "Tell your father I said hello." He pockets the empty vial and strides toward the door.

Keyleth can no longer see him—can no longer see much of anything as blackness starts to creep in along the edges of her vision. Her heart races even faster now, the beating of it competing against the fast-acting poison seeping through her veins. She is dying. She can feel it. She can't remember if she kissed Vilya before Vax took her away. What was the last thing she said to her husband? She wonders if there is room for her beneath the twisting roots of the cherry tree.

When this darkness takes her, it almost feels like peace.

.

Vax takes long strides through the halls of the castle, guilt chewing at him like a dog with a bone. He shouldn't have taken so long to return to Keyleth's side, but once again, he found himself requiring near superhuman strength to pull himself away from Vilya. He knew that she was safe, could see the phalanx of guards surrounding the cottage and the sharpened blade hanging from Derrig's belt inside, and yet removing himself from her presence felt as impossible as removing the sun from the sky.

He nods his hellos to Grog and Jarett, who are stationed outside Keyleth's old chambers—it is so striking, to have once stood outside these same doors for hours on end, only to sneak in and fall in love with her every single night, and now he walks through those doors during full day, in plain sight of the guards on either side—and pushes into the room. It's quiet, save for the fire dwindling in the hearth, and he doesn't see Keyleth anywhere.

"Kiki?" He moves over to her dressing screen, thinking perhaps she wanted to change clothes, but no, nothing back there. He goes to the fireplace, then, and his heart stops in his chest when he sees her, slumped in a pile on the floor, very much not moving.

"KEYLETH!" He crashes to his knees beside her, knocking the table out of the way to gather her into his arms. His shout alerted the guards, who now rush inside, weapons drawn. He pays them no mind; Keyleth isn't breathing.

One of the guards behind him blows a terrifyingly familiar whistle, and the sound shatters Vax's ribs. He presses two fingers to the underside of her jaw, but his panic is overwhelming him. He shudders in the deepest breath he can manage, holds it, and lets it out. He tries again.

There is a pulse. It is thready and so very, very weak, but there is a pulse.

Vax brushes the hair from her face, which is clammy and pale, and rests his hands on her cheeks. Bowing his head, he prays with the force of a winter's storm to the Raven Queen. He pleads for the magic required to save her life, and, failing that, the mercy of his matron to spare her one more time. He feels that prickling cold emanating from his hands, seeping into her skin, yet her chest remains obstinately still, refusing to rise and fall with new breath.

Please, he prays, thoughts barely coherent through his own sobs and the shouts of guards behind him. Please do not take her from me. Do not take her from our daughter. Do not take her from her people. He feels the energy quickly sapping away, his finite magic reaching its limits.

He holds his breath. He removes his hands from her face. Her eyes stare up at the ceiling. They are glassy, unseeing, lifeless.

[totsandnuggsrebloggs]

right now, about how many fish could you put in your pockets? (the fish are whatever fish you like, and they will not b harmed from the pocket exercise)

The bad news is that I have very small pockets right now. The good news is that I have six very small pockets :)

I could fit exactly 27 large goldfish in my pockets. Maybe 30 but that may be pushing it.

[vangh17a]

I am going to assume that you are a Zelda fan, and that you were the type that did art for a hobby as a child and took it more seriously as you got older!

I love your art by the way! Your colors look beautiful

hahhaha me? Zelda?? ...absolutely.

Zelda was my childhood and I still love it to pieces. Actually, you could say it was my special interest lmao. (cough twilight princess cough) I promised myself I was going to actually solve ToTK after I updated pt 18 for wanderer, so I know what I'm doing for the next few days >:)

And right you are! I always drew things when I was younger, but I really wanted to start getting better around late middle school years. I just wanted to draw more things for Zelda lmao

Thank you so much!! Colors are easily my favorite part of the art process, you can convey so much through them!

[nade2308]

Ok, who was gonna tell me "Rock of Ages" will make me catch feelings? Because I told @thethistlegirl I thought this movie would be lighter (because music) in how we wanted to decompress from all the Tom angst we've watched so far, BUT GUESS WHAT? I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT STACEE JAXX OUT OF ALL PEOPLE.

We did not see it coming, and we fucking should have.

I'll be on my floor from three to five business days now, thanks.

[lunarbun-ships]

I'm curious about Mod Bun's spooky month s/i (who I assume is the one on the left on your pinned post). What's their story, and how do they tie into spooky month?

KDHDJSK ok so

ill be real, i lovee lovee sm but im just so hyperfixed on bob specifically so my sona(+their lore) just kinda revolves around him, theyre not close with the main characters nor do they really interact w any of them (unless you count the cult at all)😭 so they wouldn't really like effect anything really unfortunately, at least not majorly anyways

my sona ends up joining the cult after bob goes to jail to break him out (cause i think it was confirmed one of the members busted him out in ep4) and they fix him up and bring him back post tender treats but thats really the only major plot point dhjs, i have more sappy details but im shy

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Charcoal, lilac, but most of all raspberry

NNNGH!!! THANK YOU 💜💜💜 (and right back at you for all of those!!!)

🤔 You know, I said Raspberry to Happi, so maybe this… Maybe this is something…

[r4v3nr0s3]

Pure empathy can assume any POV even ones that make most prior uncomfortable.

Perception is a tool that is pointed at both ends

[distantpagesandpapercuts]

I know too well how the past shapes us, and I will never ask her to forget it. I just hope I can make her present and future easier, less bleak. If that is all the good I end up doing before I die, I can pass easier.

Anonymous Thoughts

"Now who's being bleak?" She murmurs.

He can't fool her, Kira can point them shoulders out of a crowd. No matter how much grey paint he slathered on. But as long as they were pretending that they didn't know who each other was?

"You will though. I know you will, Mr. Hero. My stubbornness is only born from a sense of survival. I have to defend the things that I have built- small as they may seem compared to the grand scheme of your glory you spread. Otherwise-

What was the point of my struggle at all? To let you take the burden from me?

Maybe I don't want my life to be any easier or maybe I just don't know how to accept help with grace.

Maybe you should stop killing yourself for people who don't want or deserve the sacrifice."

[foldingfittedsheets]

My mundane super power is that I love blue heelers so much that every time I see them I ask to pet them and their owners always warn me they’re not overly friendly which I know because my boy Sly was also very aloof but every time the dog feels my infinite love and always greets me warmly.

[lillies-for-the-living]

...hey, wait a minute. So was mine. And I clicked on it twice

Your gender is now the first randomized wikipedia article you get. No rerolls.

[sadclowncentral]

IN EVENT OF MOON DISASTER - speech written by Bill Saffire for the Apollo XI space flight, in the event the astronauts were stranded on the Moon and could not return to Earth. (source)

Transcript under the cut

To : H. R. Halderman

From: Bill Safire

July 18, 1969

IN EVENT OF MOON DISASTER:

Fate has ordained that the men who went to the moon to explore in peace will stay on the moon to rest in peace. These brave men, Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin, know that there is no hope for their recovery. But they also know that there is hope for mankind in their sacrifice. These two men are laying down their lives in mankind's most noble goal: the search for truth and understanding. They will be mourned by their families and friends; they will be mourned by their nation; they will be mourned by the people of the world; they will be mourned by a Mother Earth that dared send two of her sons into the unknown. In their exploration, they stirred the people of the world to fees as one; in their sacrifice, they bin more tightly the brotherhood of man. In ancient day, men looked at stars and saw their heroes in the constellations. In modern times, we do much the same, but our heroes are epic men of flesh and blood. Others will follow, and surely find their way home. Man's search will not be denied. But these men were the first, and they will remain the foremost in our hearts. For every human being who looks up at the moon in the nights to come will know that there is some corner of another world that is forever mankind.

PRIOR TO THE PRESIDENT'S STATEMENT:

The President should telephone each of the widows-to-be.

AFTER THE PRESIDENT'S STATEMENT, AT THE POINT WHEN NASA ENDS COMMUNICATIONS WITH THE MEN:

A clergyman should adopt the same procedure as a burial at sea, commending their souls to "the deepest of the deep" concluding with the Lord's Prayer.

[xerorao]

Keep your fangs sharp, and your cash hidden 🐺🪙

[polisena-art]

I’m jumping in to submit a request! I love it when people draw one of the caballeros cooking. I think they all have their strengths and weaknesses. Personally I feel like Panchito is a dream in the kitchen. Part of me wants to make a joke about Donald burning water but he can probably at least make a good fucking sandwich. Zé…. Man I have no idea. He is a mystery to me.

I ended up rambling about headcanons OTL but! I’d love to see you draw a cab of your choice cooking or something like that!

OK SO,, Zé has been shown cooking in his comics and apparently he's pretty decent at it (his nephews do like his food) but, as everything in those comics, it all depends if it's gonna be relevant to the plot.

José might not be a chef but I'm sure he can make the Brazilian classics like rice and beans, strogonoff (the Brazilian remix), pasta with sausages, farofa de ovo, canja, bake a cake AND OF COURSE he can work a grill for churrasquinho of whatever mystery meat he can put his hands on. He doesn't do much cooking because it's "ARGH... work", but for his nephews and when it comes to showing his friends what Rio's cuisine is like, he will do it. Also, I think if he's feeling truly inspired and has people helping him, he can make a traditional feijoada, just... don't criticize it. like, EVER.

Traditional Feijoada is supposed to be rich, it's not supposed to be spicy/hot!