#asks: answered

[rolkstone]

may us thirsty snake fans perhaps be blessed with a sexy snake drawing? 👉👈

[grollow]

What are your opinions on the pale king?

Oh boy. Uhm. This feels like a massively loaded question considering that I know that Pale King-related discourse is very common in this fandom but I'm feeling brave today so let's go. Prepare for a long reply, anon, hope you're ready for Ashe to actually write their headcanons on main.

Well first off, I think the fandom does the character a grievous injustice the majority of the time, which is exceedingly frustrating considering that he’s one of the few characters in the game to have any nuance at all. The majority of the fandom either goes out of their way to demonize him (by far the most common sentiment, which is infuriating), or they make him way too sympathetic and/or try to excuse/write off/defend/redeem him for the horrible things that he’s done in the events of the game. Both of these stances ignore that the character is layered like an onion and deserves to be treated as such.

I’m gonna address the demonizing thing first, because it’s more common in fanfiction which is where the majority of my followers found me, and is also where the mass of my experience can be found. Demonizing PK as “ruthless, evil baby killer” ignores the fact that he was put into a no-win situation as king of a kingdom that was entirely reliant upon him (whether by his choice or not is unclear, canon makes it obvious people are inclined to follow wyrms but we do not know for sure if this is something he wanted or just incidental). His own dialogue and actions show us that everything he did, he did with a heavy heart. He did not do these things to be cruel, he did not do these things thoughtlessly, and he certainly did not do these things and forget about them.

PK in essence was presented with next to no options to defeat an enemy that was willing to stop at nothing to get what she wanted; she was willing to kill countless people, with no thought for what all she harmed and damaged along the way. He was king and responsible for those people’s lives. He had to do something.

We don’t know what he knew going into the vessel plan. Based on Monomon’s studies, and the Pale King’s own, we can assume that he probably tried other options. We have wingmoulds and kingsmoulds to show us that he absolutely was experimenting with void before he reached the conclusion of sacrificing his own children. He had to have come to the conclusion that this was the only option that he had. Based on the seal on the Abyss, it’s one that he regretted, found disgusting, and if you take his death in White Palace to be from guilt (which I do), it’s one that he never forgave himself for. “No cost too great.”

Vessels by design are supposed to be empty. I do not think this design choice was to be cruel. I think he tried to design them not to feel not only to protect them from Radi but also to protect them from experiencing what he was asking of them. And I truly, 100% believe that by the end, he realized he’d failed. That Hollow was not empty. He just had no other option, his grand be-all end-all plan was relying on their success.

(Note: My headcanon is that World Sense is PK’s apology to Hollow, in his own way. I also headcanon that PK foresaw Hallownest being saved in one of / all of the endings, and all of them involved Hollow having to be sacrificed. I believe that he died of guilt for doing what he thought he had to.)

So with all of this in mind, though: How can you demonize him for a choice that he made, that was a no-win situation? Is it a wrong choice? Probably. Were there better options? We’ll never know. What we do know is it is not one he made lightly. He knew his acts were monstrous. He did not go into these decisions thinking himself a hero. He locked himself away afterwards and it ate away at him slowly. Heavy is the head that wears the crown. He lost everything in an attempt to save his kingdom from dying to the Radiance. Whether you like him or not, you have to acknowledge the fact that he did think that his plan would save his people. That his end goal was a good one.

(And I will not get into arguments about colonizing / conquering / etc. I do not think this is usually a source of discourse, but when it does come up, it’s usually in defense of the Radiance, who is as guilty as he is of the same damn shit. @ruthlesslistener wrote a post on that subject that I’m sure I’ve reblogged. There’s no point in me repeating it.)

So with that in mind, you might be asking yourself, “So are you not a PK apologist?” And the answer is no. He’s done fucking horrible shit and I am not sorry at all for him. I do not pity him. I do not think he deserves forgiveness. I do not think he deserves to be redeemed. There’s a big difference between understanding the reason a character does something and agreeing with it. Most of the time, when people try to redeem him, it is either erasing the whole baby pit thing (either by time travel or just simply saying it Never Happened), or altering Hollow’s perception of that act (as if they are the only one who was hurt by that act). In the case of the former, you are no longer writing the Pale King. You are writing a wyrm shaped guy. The choices he made exist for a reason. Wiping them out, without good cause, drastically alters his character. I understand people think he has a cool design/character motif, he does. But that’s not even the tip of the iceberg of what makes him an interesting character.

He isn’t a villain.

He isn’t a hero.

And he would not want you to redeem him. He sure as fuck didn’t try to redeem himself.

Let him be morally gray. That’s what makes him a fun character to write and an excellent plot device to include. Let him be complicated. He deserves at least that much.

[unrclypirxte]

I Can't Find The Meme!

@b3ast0fburd3n said: (If you're looking for more threads! //ignore otherwise)

"Since I've met you, i've nearly been incinerated, drowned, shot at, and chopped into fish bait < and I don't even know your name." From Elias to Beth

---

Today was one of those unhinged days — moreso than usual.

She had been putting off trying out that new café type place that had opened up, even at the behest of other pirates who urged her with pulls and pushes and promises of how good it all was. Even in a rare moment of downtime, she chose the local dive over something better. Glancing around, she spotted the owner of the newer place at the bar, made a mental note to strike up a conversation.

How was she supposed to know that Rakyat would hit with a good bit of arson ( hey, molotov cocktails were HER thing! ) ? Beth hadn't even gotten to order when it happened! So, through frantic noise and panic, her and the owner of the newer place - Elias, if she remembered correctly- ended up trapped in a smaller back room, flames closing in, bullets flying. But they got out. Beth made SURE they got out.

The gunfire became even worse as they breached the outside. She made sure to keep Elias down, or let him be helpful, if he could muster it. All good! All swell! Until a few Rakyat snuck behind and managed to strike Beth from behind, rendering her unconscious for a little while. When she came-to, surrounded by water and hearing chattering, she sprung back into life.

Despite the fact that he had almost drowned ( so had she, admittedly ) , they were alive! I mean, Elias definitely almost got dismembered by a machete there, but Beth WOULDN'T let that happen. A flash of teeth and blood and gurgles signified the end of that attempt. And that's where they remained, white smoke in the short distance indicating that the bar was, in the very least, no longer actively burning.

All things considered, this went surprisingly well.

Beth sat in the shallow-enough water, a leg outstretched and the other bent at the knee, watching the smoke and steadying her breathing. It felt like hours were passing, but when he spoke, it had only been a few minutes. A laugh filtered from her, light and airy and DELIGHTFUL. For someone who didn't know her, it made her seem normal. Harmless, if not for what he had seen during the attack.

"Not bad for three o'clock on a Tuesday, no?" She flashed teeth then, pure delight and humour plastered on her face. Laughing still, she placed a wet hand over her chest in an attempt to steady herself. "You know me, mate. Or you know OF me." A hand extended itself towards him, an offer of a handshake, genuine in its appeal. "I'm Beth. You're that, uh, guy who owns that place? Elias? You alright? Any major injuries?"

God, her head was beginning to ache.

[rayofsunshinc]

ASKS ANSWERED

@untilthcyrot sent 🌺 nadja for cassidy Send me 🌺 to place a flower in my muse’s hair

Cassidy had been talking. He usually was. Not to say that Nadja wasn't listening, he knew that she did. He could also ramble on for longer than needed, so he didn't mind when she was a little preoccupied. However, while he was rambling on about something, she was leaning in closer, and Cassidy stopped mid-sentence. He thought that maybe - she was leaning in - and - nope.

She had plucked a flower and was tucking it behind his ear. At the gentle gesture, he lost all train of thought. He caught Nadja's gaze, a wide grin spreading over his features, and he laughed. ❝Thank you, love. Do I look pretty?❞

[blakelysco-pilot]

16. Flora for Blakely and Val?

FLORA - The Roman goddess of flowers and spring.

Small, oh so small, had been the first thing he noticed upon entering the room. Used to controlling big beasts in the sky, hands that would grip and pull the yoke to his every whim in the clouds, were now to be used for delicate things. And that was just fine with him.

His smile threatened to split his face in two, gaze immediately landing on his wife, and the small bundle in her arms. Val, the best thing that had ever happened to him, that had brought happiness in a time of war, laughter in the darkness, and love all the days after, had been so gracious as to give him something more. Their daughter was wrapped in a soft pink blanket, but he could immediately see the dark wisps of hair on her head. Her mothers hair, without a doubt, but as he came around the side of the bed, his eyes were staring back at him.

“She’s…oh god, Val, she’s perfect…” His voice a soft whisper.

“Got your eyes.” She grinned, stroking the little girl's cheek with that always perfectly manicured nail, gaze moving from her, to her husband.

“Got your nose and lips, thank god.” He grinned, taking the seat next to the bed.

“I love your lips.” Val tsk’d, rolling her eyes at him, and he couldn’t help but laugh. She had just given birth and it seemed she wasn’t slowing down with the sass.

“Well, at least she isn’t stuck with my nose, then.”

She offered him another eye roll in response, before asking him the one question he’d been waiting for since they got to the hospital.

“Ready to hold her?”

Without waiting for his response, she shifted the little bundle of pink into his waiting arms, watching as she fussed for a moment, before finally settling. Her gaze was latched onto his, and he swore he had never felt anything like it in his entire life. He had felt fear, nerves, happiness, and complete control, many times in his life, but now, Ev Blakely was unable to control anything. He had given up complete control to the small, beautiful little bundle in his arms, and knew he'd give her anything for the rest of his days on earth.

“We did this…” He whispered, his hand ghosting over the soft hair at the top of her head. “We made her.”

“Yea, we did…”

“Most beautiful girl in the whole world,” He grinned, lips finding her forehead. “You and your mother, princess.”

“Princess needs a name.” Val gently reminded him.

“What do you think then?”

“Florence,” Val sighed, watching her husband and daughter with a smile. “Florence Olive Blakely.”

“Her godmother will be thrilled.” Ev smiled.

“Flora, for short.”

“Flora…” He tested the name out, immediately knowing they’d never call her anything but, ever again.

“Flora is the Roman goddess of flowers and spring.”

“Our little Roman goddess,” Ev held her closer, if possible. “Our Flora.”

Want more of these? Pick a prompt & drop me a line!

[alwaysgodownwiththeship]

I think your comment that Paul ‘froze the others out with impersonal politeness’ is actually very perceptive. The general consensus among Beatle scholars and fans is that Paul was desperate to reunite with John, but I’m not so sure. He gave an interview to a British newspaper about 10 years ago and said something about John phoning him in tears, begging him to reform the Beatles. I think Paul was very hurt and couldn’t get past how the others had treated him. If anyone was dragging his feet on a Beatles reunion, I think it was him.

Thanks!

I hadn't heard about that interview, I'll have to find it!

I think he wanted it the least, for sure, for a variety of reasons. Not just hurt. Perhaps once he was out of the Beatles machine he also felt a little more free.

I don't reuniting with John was the same thing as reuniting the Beatles for Paul. Linda did say that Paul was desperate to write with John again, but that's not to say that he always felt like that since they broke up. That's not even to say that Paul ever said that directly to Linda and she wasn't just inferring from what she knew of Paul. (Because she knew both of them better now and thought she could see past their games.) And she also said it after John died after all. People have had cynical interpretations as to why Paul felt desperate to write with John again. But as to why, I think the truth was that by the late 1970s, Paul had thawed out towards John, meaning he was more open than he had been before towards being close friends again. They had both made steps towards repairing their friendship, but there was still some space between them, on both sides I think. Paul and John have always had a musical connection, and I believe Paul wanted to renew it because it was (for him) a part of renewing his friendship with John. Think of how Paul wanted to play to play live again, first on Let It Be, then as touring band again in small clubs, I think he wanted that as a way to connect to the others emotionally again, and that this pattern repeated itself with John.

Which is to say: No, Paul didn't want to reunite the band- he was still very hurt and angry about it all, but he did want to be friends again by the end of 1970s with John. (Not sure what Paul's feelings were towards George before John died).

[alexxmason]

🌺 send this to ten blogs you think are wonderful 🌺

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Sending this love right back to you!

[tomblr-man]

endogenic systems are literally. scientifically not real ☠️☠️ can you get a grip and stop taking resources from people who actually have osddid by saying 'Noooo this is real you should cater to their needs!'

Babe, I can give you so many resources from scientific sources, it ain't our fault you refuse to read them.

Also not endogenic, but nice try!

[thereyoflights]

I'd love to request or give commission for a supergirl fanfiction. Do you take those? :)

I’ve never done it in the past, besides for some close friends, but I’m honestly not opposed to it at all! I don’t know much about other Supergirl ships, but I’m definitely comfortable writing some Supercorp prompts or requests if that’s what you’re interested in. It’s a ship I’m relatively new to, but I’ve quickly come to understand why everyone loves them, and I’m down to write them more. I tend to write one-shots for the sake of my sanity, even if they’re on the longer end, so ideally it could be something that fits within that range. I’m honored someone would even want me to write something! If you’d like to discuss it further, you can send me a message or drop an idea in my inbox :)

[survivintothrivin]

❤️💙 💓💘

❤️ A happy memory that makes them smile

A happy memory that makes Gwendolyn smile is when she was 15 and spontaneously went to a rock concert with her older brother Lasse. He is much older than her, very guarded and most of the time he wasn’t home because he’d joined the military as soon as he could, so she never got to be that close to him. One day he came to visit the family and much to Gwendolyn’s surprise, she truly got to know her brother for the first time. They got along incredibly well and she found out that not only she’s had a wrong impression of him all along, but that they were alike in a lot of ways. They spent all day talking and Lasse introduced her to rock music.

Because Lasse’s friend couldn’t come to the concert planned for the next day due to an injury, the next morning Lasse asked Gwendolyn if she wanted to come with him. She agreed and that day she found out that she had a friend out there her entire life; she just never knew. Since that day they’d developed a special friendship, distant but among the most meaningful Gwendolyn has had.

💙 A sad memory that makes them cry

Christmas 2009. She had been so happy thinking she would be able to celebrate it with her best friend Clara and she had prepared some things to cheer her friend up on that day, but Clara took her own life shortly before Christmas. Christmas Eve had been an even worse day for Gwendolyn than when she found out about Clara’s death because as she woke up on Christmas day, for a brief moment she forgot about everything and looked forward to spending the day with Clara, only to be hit with the realization that she is no longer there. The hollowness of that realization is a feeling Gwendolyn still vividly remembers.

💓 A memory about their friends

A day she spent with a couple of school friends she made during her exchange year. After an exhausting cheerleading training session, they made a bonfire and ate some s’mores. She misses the time because of how novel everything was to her and how carefree she had navigated through life back then.

💘 A memory that gets their heart pounding

The time when her best friend and crush told Gwendolyn that if she were a boy, she’d be dating her. It definitely hurt Gwendolyn to hear that, but at the same time it gave her butterflies.

[rolkstone]

Chalmskinn cyberpunk astatic

[grollow]

Okay so, uh... any headcanon about Divine that you'd like to share the most?

Divine, my beloved.

I headcanon her as a termite queen, which I believe is supported by some of her behavior in canon. A lot of her dialogue and behavior also brings to mind 'witchy aunt' vibes, so I've always really leaned into a heavy occult/mystic thought process with her. I like to think that she is naturally magical, as opposed to just gaining magic from being a member of Grimm's Troupe. Typically I lean into "she can read fortunes with frightening accuracy," but I like to think that she can do some other stuff like good luck charms that actually work, that sort of thing.

I've personally always thought Divine was a more important member of the Troupe than most realized. She has her own tent. From the logistics standpoint, I'm sure this is because of the role she serves in the game in giving the Unbreakable Charms, but from a lore point of view, I'd take that to mean that she's either been a member of the Troupe longer, or serves a more vital role.

I like to think she gives very, very good advice, if you can get her to be serious and pay attention. Like she comes across to me as someone who is airy, doesn't wildly pay attention to people's meanings because she's in her own world, but when you DO get her attention, she's very intelligent, wise, and able to see a more objective picture than the average person. The ideal to go to with problems if you really need to -- just don't expect her to coddle your feelings.

I also headcanon that the half of her face that is covered by the mask is injured, as a nod to Phantom of the Opera.

[unrclypirxte]

Far Cry 3 Starters! - ALWAYS ACCEPTING

@b3ast0fburd3n said: You are brave to joke in the face of death. -from Eden for Beth

---

It was the norm, really; a Rakyat ambush, guns waved around, a lot of yapping about bullshit that Beth, admittedly, didn't care about. Something about her killing their people and friends, something else about Citra — it all blurred into one homogeneous thing when you've been at it for as long as Beth has.

Did she JOKE? Of course! She relished in their reactions, their anger. They always got so upset when she laughed and joked instead of cowering, even when they killed a few pirates and threatened the other women. Really, how could she not? Their bravado was movie-esq, and she wondered if she'd ever sit down and write a screenplay with shit she's heard.

But, like all things pertaining to work, Beth grew bored. And when Beth grew bored, she wanted to finish their little ' dance ' . So, swiftly, she managed to single-handedly take down the four man group of Rakyat. Which, honestly, she wouldn't consider impressive nor brave.

If you ever got to watch Beth in action, it was a MARVELOUS thing, really. As if she had been bred for this, as if she was made for it. Impressive, if not TERRIFYING with the implications.

She ordered the other pirates up with heaving breaths as she retrieved her cigarette box from her cargo pants pocket. She placed one between her lips and lit it before crouching down and wiping bloodied hands into the blue fabric of the Rakyat's vests.

The other speaking had her ears pricking up in attention, but did very little to deter her from beginning to search the body of the ' warrior ' who served as her prior cloth. She was silent for a moment, as if ignoring the other, before humming around her lit cigarette.

"Most would call it fucking dumb, mate," She began, taking a second to admire the small carving of a tiger she had found in his pockets. "Or, er," What was the English? A pause as she gathered her thoughts. "Having a death wish. Which, I'd argue, y'know, is the whole point of being a fucking pirate."

She finished looting and half turned to the other, still crouching. Removing the cigarette from her lips and exhaling a thick, grey spiral of smoke, her brown eyes considered the other in what could be most compared to a predator sizing up prey.

"What would you call it, huh? BRAVERY? Is that what we're going with?" Beth laughed softly, an airy thing, light and delightful to the ears. "I like that, actually. Is that what qualifies as bravery to to you?"

Ironic, really, considering who Beth was; she had called rejects brave and far more generous titles for less ( admittedly to taunt them ) . She'd regard others as brave, or dumb, or both for doing what she had just done. But she quite liked picking into people, especially those she had an inherentl distrust for.

[rayofsunshinc]

ASKS ANSWERED

@lunarruled sent “There’s some things you just don’t ask questions about.” (for Daryl)

Daryl shot her a sidelong glance at her words, his expression mostly unreadable. He didn't respond immediately, but when Kyleigh didn't say anything else, he sighed, realizing she wasn't going to give.

❝I get it.❞ He conceded with a nod, knowing better than most that some things were better left unsaid. He wasn't all that talkative on the best of days. He and Kyleigh had always enjoyed each other's silence. This time, he couldn't help digging. ❝But sometimes, not knowing is worse than knowing. Seriously, what's going on with you?❞

[blakelysco-pilot]

I’m loving the prompts! Could we have 15 for Rosie and Jo?

A/N: sorry this took so long, nonny! I hope you enjoy!

Needy - marked by want of affection, attention, or emotional support

Alone, finally, and neither Rosie nor Jo could contain themselves as they reveled in the quiet around them. Only the sounds of their frantic breathing filled the hotel room as they pulled at each other's clothes, clumsily stumbling towards the bed. As the back of her knees hit the bed, Jo felt herself stumble a moment before Rosie’s arm wound itself around her waist and pulled her flush against him. Her eyes wide at the feeling of being pressed against him, his hands gripping her bare waist, noses pressed together, his inhales were here exhales.

“Robbie…” She could feel his fingers at the clasp of her bra, deftly toying with it, but nothing more.

“What is it, pretty girl? Hmm? Tell me.”

“Robbie, please,” It came out in a whine, her brow pinched together, hands blindly fumbling for any part of him she could find. “Pleaseplease, honey, please!”

“Shh,” He soothes, his hand sliding up her back to tangle in her hair. “I’ve got you, I’m right here.”

She’s vaguely aware of how needy she sounds, hands fumbling over him for even the slightest touch of skin against skin, voice high pitched and breathy. Desperate and wanting for his hands to explore her further- years of wanting and waiting finally bursting through the floodgates and overwhelming them both.

He’s down to his undershirt, and Jo finds herself long enough so that her fingers dance along the bottom, skimming across the small exposure of skin between the top of his trousers and his shirt. And then she’s pushing it up to discard it somewhere in the room.

Her Robbie is broad shoulders and muscle, freckles smattered across his shoulders and chest. The patch of hair on his chest takes the same reddish hue as the ends of his mustache, and she’s not sure where she wants to touch him first. When she brings her hands up to cradle his face, her lips meeting his softly, she finds the wherewithal to allow herself to explore his body; with his eyes closed and lips on hers, he isn’t watching as she touches. Somehow, she thinks, that makes it easier. So her hands travel down, skimming gently down his neck until she’s found his shoulders, and then tickles them across his collarbones. With her hands occupied, she barely notices as he drags his mouth from hers and begins kissing down her neck. His lips nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh behind her ear, down the column of her throat, until he’s found the soft spot at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“Robbie, oh…”

“You didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun, did you?”

“Mhmm…”

“Words, honey pie. Use your words.”

“I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” He sucked a particularly harsh mark into the base of her neck before letting his tongue lave over the spot, soothing the ache. “I know you can.”

“I want you to touch me…” She sounded petulant to her own ears. Like a child, demanding, keening, wanting more.

His lips traveled up up up; cheek now pressed against hers, his mouth was right beside her ear, his warm breath fanning over the side of her face as he spoke.

“Where?” One word, with enough force to have her knees knocking together.

“Robbie…”

“God, my name has never sounded so pretty.”

“Please?”

“Tell me where,” He lifted her off the floor just enough, and carefully deposited her in the center of the bed. “Please, honey, I wanna hear you say it.”

His hands slid behind her, fingers gently toying with the clasp of her bra once again, and she knew he was waiting for her to tell him where she wanted his hands. His mouth. All of him blanketing her as they spent the night tangled in a mess of sheets and limbs. And she knew that unless she took a brief moment to clear the fog from her mind, she wouldn’t have that. So gently, she pushed herself up, and reached back to pry his hands from her before replacing them with her own. Deftly, she popped the clasp open and let the garment that was shielding her from his view pool in her lap.

Now completely bare from the waist up, she leaned back on her elbows. Then, gently taking one of his hands in her own and guiding it to her bare breast, she spoke once more.

“Will you please, please, touch me now?”

Want more of these? Pick a prompt & drop me a line!

[yumedarling]

Hey I know it’s been years since you’ve been here and I didn’t know you were the artist for one of the many taang pic I love. The one with the prego toph carrying a big rock giving Aang one of the many shocks of his lifetime. I just want to drop a line on how awesome of an artist you are.

Thank you so much for dropping a note! It can be hard to trace down all of an artist's work since we tend to post our newest/best works and leave the old ones on older websites like Deviantart. I don't post on here as much anymore but I do plan to use it as an archive of my older artwork. And I do really love Taang and its fandom so I will try to contribute more when I can! :)