That moment when you want to put undercuts and First Order uniforms on a youngish Ren.
Here’s a hot take: villains should be relatable.
Not every villain, not every time, and certainly not to everyone at once, but there should be moments. We should, occasionally, be able to see ourselves in the bad guys, be able to understand how they got there.
Because it reminds us not to fucking go there.
Antis who get upset about villains having relatable qualities (often couched as being “romanticized” or “woobified”) are people who cannot bear to ever think of themselves as having the capability of being wrong.
Every human alive is capable of being a horrible person. Relatable villains remind us to keep an eye on that shit.
To get into the spirit of the Holidays, please enjoy mothman eating his own Christmas Sweater
preparing for reading this fic like it’s a romantic evening in, I’m making a special meal in the actual oven and I’m gonna wear my favourite outfit (my pyjamas) and dim the lights and put on music I might even pour a glass of wine
someone’s getting laid this evening and it’s my favourite fictional character
Reach Out in the Darkness (kylux, NSFW)
Have I titled something that before? I can’t remember.
ANYWAY,
Have some consentacles.
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Title: Reach Out in the Darkness
Pairing: Kylux
Rating: NSFW!!
Warnings: Tentacle Sex, Large Insertion, Alternate Universe, Cadet Hux, Tentacle Monster, ABSOLUTE canon divergence, Flying During Sex, Crying During Sex, Mild Contract Negotiation.
Summary: Having spent a decent amount of time researching the history and folklore of Arkanis, Cadet Hux strikes out one chilly evening in search of some legendary creature that’s supposed to be extremely powerful. If the myths aren’t true, all he’s wasted is time. But, if they are based in some actual fact, then what a boon such an entity would be to his cause. He doesn’t know what he will find, but he is prepared for any (absolutely ANY) eventuality.
Ao3 or, continued below~
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The air is crisp and woodsmoke scented, and Armitage Hux has dressed appropriately for this trek through the woods. His sturdy boots crunch leaves and twigs underfoot as he follows an age-old path, and his woolen coat, its collar turned against a gathering evening mist, keeps him warm. He supposes that in the summer, around the equinox, his pagan ancestors would have dressed in leathers and cords, making their way down this path with torches, wild flowers woven into their hair. In all the illustrations (and in his research he’d encountered more than a few) the /primitive tribespeople/ marched along this path, anointing the trees, jangling bone rattles, singing ancient songs lost to the modern tongue. Since it’s a theme quite popular among those taken to flights of fancy, or else, those with a desire to depict the defenseless, nubile young sacrifice with only her long, red hair to cover her perfect breasts, Hux had slogged through countless books of myth, comparing those against the scant historical accounts, before he’d found anything of real /use/. Firstly, the pagan tribes who practiced this ritual weren’t escorted by quaint little fairies with shining wings, as a disgusting number of the illustrations would suggest. Secondly, the sacrifices weren’t always female.
an au i’ve been playing around with in my head – they’re the sons of political rivals and they each hate their parents. they grew up always seeing each other around at events and such but ben disappeared for a while because his parents sent him off to live with his uncle out of the public eye (it didn’t go well). when he returns, they meet again as adults and get very drunk and end up banging in the bathroom where they get the idea to start having a very public affair to humiliate their parents!!! (arm is about 3 years older than ben, in that first pic they are 13 and 16!)
this looks like a shot from the What We Do In the Shadows-style version of Revenge of the Sith
a paper mache bucket ... tumblr mirror 