#Merry Crisis!

[ask-spiderpool]

[vole-mon-amour]

is it just me or the way Wyll blushes and hides the pic of Mizora in that xbox ad doesn't sit well with you as well?

so Mizora traps him in a contract, owns him via contract, can boss him around, yank his invisible leash, and, if he disobeyed or if she dies, he either dies as well or immediately goes to hell for an eternity. I'm a way, he's her slave. as far as he knows, he can get out out of the contract by sacrificing himself (or he can sacrifice himself to save his dad).

sure, you can go behind Mizora's back and save Ravengard, buy we'll go with Wyll Doesn't Know That for the sake of my point.

and canonically Wyll dislikes Mizora and her company. he wants to get rid of her. he hates that she turns him into a devil. he hates how he looks. he hates everything about that.

and what Larian say in that xbox ad? oh, Wyll actually blushes and keeps the implied sexy pic of Mizora and it's implied that he has a crush on her/would have sex with her.

AND Karlach, who was also a slave with no means to get out, who was sold to slavery by a person she trusted and protected, elbows Wyll and goes, "what, you don't want it?" Karlach who KNOWS how it feels and who wants to kill Gortash for what he did to her, and Mizora is Wyll's Gortash in a way.

so first we have Halsin being a sex slave for three entire years and he feared for his life every single day. yet, that info is hidden very deeply and is easily misseable, and its written in the manner of him victim blaming himself with "i was a young druid" and he chuckles as he says that and it's presented in a way way as if he had fun? as if he was there willingly? as if it's all a big joke and not a big deal?

like, i know it's a big topic, but why is only Astarion's trauma taken seriously? why is Astarion's story written and loudly told in a way that we know that Cazador tortured him in every way, including rape, and not once it's treated like a joke? but when it comes to other's slavery, abuse, and trauma, it's suddenly treated like a joke?

Halsin's story is generally badly written/portrayed & he deserves way better, and maybe I'm reaching with this because neither Shadowheart's or Gale's stories show their captors as something good (still not as detailed as Astarion's though), but somehow that slips/gets dismissed when it comes to others.

I think Larian should stop with memes and hehe haha teeheee and be serious when it comes to others' trauma, not just Astarion's.

[transformers-earthspark]

Since I'm probably going to be busy all day tomorrow... Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all of you who celebrate! 💙🎄

[rhodeybugg]

Sibling energy from N and Uzi in the corner

"I wanna put the tree topper on!"

"Uzi, you can't reach it!"

"Well help me up, you goof!"

Also love the fact that V has declared war on the christmas lights. N, help your girlfriend.

[hegodamask]

“I think Syril and Dedra feel seen when they find each other, and they share a lot of the same morals and values that exist within the fascistic structure of the Empire. And they realize, eventually, that they can be stronger together.” [x]

[ellalba]

Happy Holidays guys! Sorry this is so late, my perfectionism struck me again!

[semi-dailykaisatou]

Merry Christmas, you guys!

[turtleplushi]

felt like I should do something actually christmas themed, so heres some sam and max

[iqmmir]

METRY CHEESEMAS BELOWVD (ignore that im sneding this two days early i might be rlly busy on christmas eve so jdhdkdjkd merry cheesemas mimi <33)

CHEESEMAS !!!! (< doesnt like chees ;--;) RAHHH I LOVE YOU KAZUZUZUZUZUZYZUUYYY GIVING YOU TEN BILLION HUGS AND KISSIES <3333

[spdrvyn]

tw for cartoon gore

i was supposed to be post this yesterday but my dumbass forgot so have christmas albert krueger!

find the signature challenge

i use the ipad mini 6 and procreate with a stylus. i used the jingsketch brush set for this illustration.

(friendly reminder to not repost or steal my art! reblogs and likes appreciated B3)

[thegeminisage]

its my birthday btw 🥺

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Merry Christmas to all of my followers who celebrate and a very happy holidays for those who don’t 🫶🫶🫶🫶

[weidli]

Da war einmal ein König ...

(mumford and sons, little lion man // der traurige könig, 2012)

[waltwhitmansbeard]

go on, claim my heart: chapter three

see my masterpost for what came before this. inspired by @romeoandjulietyouwish's medieval au.

Korrin has a great deal of respect for the Royal Guard of Zephrah. They have done an excellent job of keeping his family and the rest of the royal court safe during the war, and even though Gaben Finefirn had been able to infiltrate Keyleth's chambers undetected, he can hardly hold the Guard accountable for his own oversight regarding the talents of mages. Despite this respect, however, he is livid when he is forced by his own guards into a hidden safe room when a whistle rings out across the grounds from the direction of his daughter's little house. He argues with them, commanding them to step aside and let him go to her, but he is informed that, when presented with imminent danger, it is the practice of the Guard to keep all members of the royal family secure until the threat has passed.

He must sit and stew only about ten minutes before the sound of voices interrupts his pacing in the safe room. Korrin storms to the door and whips it open, and the bevy of guards outside all turn to usher him back in, with the exception of one whose face he's never seen before, likely because the guard in question is so green Korrin imagines he's still learning his letters.

This young guard goes wide-eyed when he sees the sovereign, bowing comically low. "Your Majesty."

Korrin has no time for such pleasantries. "What is this great danger that is keeping me from seeing my daughter?"

The cadet stands up, eyes still very large and now darting between the other guards for guidance. When he receives none, he stammers, "I-I-It's the princess, my liege."

Korrin's heart stops. "What?"

"P-Princess Vilya. She w-w-w-was...she was taken."

Korrin feels all of the blood leave his body. His granddaughter. His tiny, extraordinary granddaughter. He had thought it impossible to love someone as much as he loves Keyleth, but when he holds his daughter's child, feels her wrap her wee fingers around one of his, he knows that there is no god nor king who could ever hold more power over him than this one little girl.

Without a word, Korrin pushes past the guards, ignoring their pleas for him to stop. He marches through the castle and out onto the grounds, his convoy struggling to keep up with his pace. As he strides quickly toward Keyleth's cottage, his mind replays for him all of the terrifying close counters he's had as a father and a sovereign throughout her life, the threats that have been made against her, the attempts on her life, of which the two attacks orchestrated by Finefirn were only the most recent. As the only living relative of the Ashari sovereign, Keyleth has always been a high-value target for those attempting to weaken Korrin or his nation, and each threat against her wracked him with a horrible fear—but she, at least, had never been successfully taken from him. He can imagine so clearly the cold dread he knows Keyleth is feeling now, and he pushes himself forward faster, the cottage quickly approaching.

The guards gathered outside do not attempt to stop him as he bursts in the door, where everyone jumps at his sudden arrival. Vax, Lord Percival, and Derrig all pull their weapons reflexively, but their tense lines ease when they see who has just barged in. Keyleth, however, leaps off of the sofa and throws herself at him, burying her face into his chest. "They took her," she breathes, barely audible through her heaving sobs. "They took her, Papa."

Korrin pulls his daughter in close, running a hand up and down her trembling back. He looks to Vax, who looks back at him with hollow, desolate eyes, and he knows that the darkest day has dawned over the Ashari Kingdom.

.

When Keyleth has managed to collect herself and her father has been filled in on the meager details that they have, she is once again sitting in front of the fireplace, which has been lit in a poor attempt to stave off the chill that has seeped into her bones. Vax sits just beside her, one of her hands in both of his, his thumb running an arc across the back of it almost obsessively. Keyleth's muscles are tense, as if at any moment she might leap into action and run until she meets the horizon, and yet she is frozen, staring into the dancing flames as though their pattern might tell her something, anything to silence the screaming inside her head.

When her father arrived, Percy had just been about to explain what he meant when he invoked the name of the rival family that overthrew his home of Whitestone when he was a boy. Keyleth knows only sparse details, having been a child herself when the terrible thing happened, but she cannot imagine a connection between what happened then and her daughter being kidnapped now, all these years later.

Percy now stands near the fireplace, clearly uncomfortable with so many eyes on him. He begins, "When I was a boy, my family, the long-standing protectors of the city-state of Whitestone, were nearly entirely eradicated by a married couple known as Lord and Lady Briarwood. When I say 'nearly entirely,' I mean I am the sole survivor." He keeps his voice even, though even through her fog of grief she can see how pale his face is. "Lord and Lady Briarwood were not just any noble couple." He nods toward Keyleth's father, who is seated at their little dining table. "As we learned all those years ago, my liege...Lady Delilah Briarwood is a most accomplished necromancer, and Lord Sylas Briarwood...is a vampire."

Keyleth blinks at him, stunned. She's heard of the necromantic arts, of course, particularly during the war, when all sorts of unsavory types flooded in with promises of raising an army of the undead to help the Ashari Nation defeat Draconia. Vampires, though, she is sure are just a myth, a scary story told to children to keep them in their beds at night.

"Percy..." Vex breathes from her spot by the window. "Are you sure?"

"If you go outside right now, you will find on each of those dead guards' throats two small puncture wounds. I saw those same wounds on the necks of my sisters Whitney and Vesper. They had been drained of their blood and left for me and my sister Cassandra to find."

Keyleth is sure she's going to be sick. Mouth dry, she rasps, "What would they want with Vilya? We have no quarrel with them, with Whitestone. What would they demand for a ransom?"

Her eyes dart between Percy and Vax, who are exchanging a look that she cannot define but that makes her fine hairs stand on edge. "Keyleth," Percy says slowly, "there will not be a ransom."

"What? You don't know that. Of course there will be—why wouldn't there be a ransom?"

"My love." Vax brings the hand he's been holding up to his lips. "They meant to kill us."

"Yes, and they failed. What is your point?"

He sighs. "You cannot extract a ransom from the dead."

The truth of his words settle over her like dirt over a coffin, and she can feel the sick rising in her throat. Whoever took Vilya, be it the Briarwoods or some other villain, they took her for their own aims and not to hold her over their heads in some kind of barter. All of the riches of the crown, and there's nothing she can offer them to get her daughter back, because they already have what they want.

"What makes you so sure that these Briarwoods are the ones behind the kidnapping?" her father asks. "Surely Lord Sylas Briarwood is not the only vampire in the world."

Keyleth can see Percy's jaw clenched so tightly she worries his teeth will crack. "Your Majesty, I saw those marks on the throats of my sisters. I saw the teeth that made them. I see them every time I close my eyes. There is not an ounce of doubt in my mind that Sylas Briarwood killed those guards."

The silence that overtakes the cottage is cold, unsettling. Keyleth's chest is a hollow thing, empty and dark, but she stands, crosses over to Percy, and wraps her arms around him. She doesn't know who's more surprised by it, Percy or herself, but she holds on tight, and when he embraces her, her hollow chest is, for the briefest moment, a little less empty.

"I'm sorry," he whispers in her ear. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Me too," she breathes back. She pulls away from him and says, "I know this is a dark path into your memory, Percy, and I am loath to make you revisit your past. But..." Her voice breaks. "...will you be able to face these evil Briarwoods in order to get Vilya back?"

Percy places his hands on her shoulders and bends down to kiss her forehead. "Your Highness, there is nothing I would not do to bring your daughter home." His eyes slide past her to where Keyleth knows Vax to be. "You have my word."

Keyleth turns to look back at her husband, who nods once. "We'll assemble a party, leave before midday." He stands and walks over to where his sister stands by the window. "Vex'ahlia, I—"

She cuts him off with a gentle smile. "Consider it done. I'll go inform my second-in-command and pack my things." Without another word, she's out the door.

"Take Grog," Keyleth's father suggests. "You could use the muscle, and he'll intimidate all but the most persistent assailants."

"Right," Vax agrees. To Percy, he says, "Will you ask Mistress Pike if she'll join us? I imagine her particular skill set will be of use to us in this endeavor."

"Of course." He squeezes Keyleth's shoulder once more, bows to the sovereign, and follows Vex out.

Vax crosses back over to Keyleth and takes her face in his hands. "We will hunt these blackguards down to the ends of the earth for her. I promise, I will either return with our daughter or I will not return at all."

Keyleth frowns, confused. "What are you talking about?"

With a sigh, Vax says, "Kiki, I'm going with them."

"No, I know that." She reaches up to place hand on each of his forearms. "Vax...I'm going with you."

[ardberts]

hot grandpa gods dooming the narrative in your area.

[cwritesfiction]

when you say be a threat do you count as a threat if you managed to forget where you left the 4 security nuclear bombs in washington to blackmail the president to give you free ice cream?

oh ho ho, catch me about to give a sincere answer to a joke ask

the post said "2023: be happy, be a threat," and while this can be interpreted as you see fit, what i had in mind was "be happy and therefore, a threat," specifically a threat to those who are aggressively trying to stamp out any sense of queer/trans/nonbinary identity and/or deviation from "traditional" gender roles." I'm going to do what I want and be happy, actually. This is my villain era

You are more than welcome to apply the phrase to your situation that may or may not involve presidential ice cream blackmail