#like crazy in an evil way and would get corrupted

[nera-forest]

NOELLE FALLEN ANGEL

-SNOWGRAVE CONCEPT-

Okay this is a lil old but tryna use tumblr more and I used a fair amount of my brain for this concept, since I really like the idea of snowgrave making noelle a crazy powerful boss from Kris' influence kinda pushing her too far. any way I wanna break down my thought process a lil (even if a bit messy) so if you wanna hear me yap (warning, im really not the best at formulating words outside my head) read on. if not...mood board I made at bottom

TW// BLOOD, SHEDDING IN MOOD BOARD- might make people uncomfortable The main things I wanted to show in this design was the angel look and Christmas theme, all while pushing a more sad, hollow and evil look as i feel the juxtapose to "happy Christmas vibes" would make for a more tragic kind of feeling (with what we know of Noelle's character so far). getting the Christmas look was the fun easy part, I knew for a fact i wanted her silhouette to look like a Christmas tree. maybe because subconsciously a pine tree shape and look quite powerful or be kinda spooky. Much like a Christmas tree I wanted to implement the decorative aspect, tinsel, and baubles, but also got inspired by those paper snowflakes id make as a kid. the tinsel I put around the trim, and treated the baubles like reindeer harness Christmas bells, the snowflake like a lace trim but also draped like a head piece around the antlers (this is actually shed reindeer velvet) naturally angels and Christmas go hand in hand but i wanted to push the elegant look...and put a halo on her, like a decoration at the top of the tree framed by her antlers. oh and another thing being the star shape on her torso? i wanted another strong shape within the tree silhouette to draw focus a bit more (especially with the red...but ill talk color in a bit). a great segway to that actually is the ice/snow aspects, the reason i wanted this is ice naturally is another thing that can be both pretty and dreadful. for the design I like the idea of the more she uses her powers the more she gets covered in frost (im a sucker for character corruption) . i wanted to have the antlers go from cute to dangerous, I drew them as velvet shed antlers first, but also wanted to keep a little of her past on her design, so adding the ice shape in a way to allow the red of the antlers to show the old shape worked well by me. some more ice/snow i added was around her hoofs, hands and muzzle. the hooves frost shaping to be like a high heel shoe much like how reindeers have white fur close to the base of their hooves too. her hands fully frosted over not only because of main power direction source but to kind of look like elegant gloves. the frost on her face was mainly to add variety to her face while considering reindeer fur coloration, it also helped frame her red nose which helps draw focus to her face a bit more. general color summery, i wanted colors that contrast and give a feeling of cold and bad. but also red for Christmas yippee how fun!

last thing I guess is the pose. with this i had my silhouette first but realized I could do a sort of angel opening arms. which is naturally a welcoming and caring gesture, but in the context of the design kinda makes the vibe more creepy which....of course that worked for what i wanted to go for so i did that but uuuh yea, that's my thought process with it...there was probably more but I didn't write down stuff in the moment of making it. here is a very minimal moodboard. again

TW// BLOOD, SHEDDING IN MOOD BOARD- might make people uncomfortable:

[citrus-blade]

27

Little Girls (From the Annie [2014] Original Movie Soundtrack) - Cameron Diaz

I found this through TikTok cause so many people use it there lol

AU:

Nightmare was probably the best known Hero in the city, working for the official Hero's headquaters. And he wasn't just the best known, but also the best in general, which meant a lot of work for him. Nightmare - or Dream as his real name was - always worked. The hero association barely gave him a break, his friends always told him they'd work him to death.

But who else was fit to fight against the Blood God, making sure him and his syndicate wouldn't destroy the city. It was on his shoulder to make sure they wouldn't get any data about The End Portal. The portal that would lead you somewhere unknown, a place that is supposed to give you great power.

No one alive ever went through and came back, but they had old books and letters, notes of people who apparently went through and talked about a dragon like beast. They told of cities unreachable and a dark and evil energy.

The heros had to make sure the villains wouldn't ever get there and steal said power. It was to protect everyone and therefore Dream was fine with working himself to death.

Until the day the syndicate had managed to get into the archievs. Not even Dream was allowed into the deeper, more secret part. So when he got there he was shocked to see what the villains had found. Blue prints of a prison to hold villains and heroes?! One known to weaken them and steal their powers and there was a cell for everyone.

There was one for Dream, the most secure one. Blood God had shown him, told him that those heroes were the real monsters who were after the dark power. He had told him to join them, to help them reach their goal. But Dream declined, he was naive enough to believe that there must be an explanation.

Blood God had stared at him in silence before they all fled with the notes. Dream didn't care. When Quackity and Sam came up to him to yell at him he had questioned them. They weren't happy about it, said Dream shouldn't worry. But he did, cause there were cells for not only him but his friends, even for the youngest who had just started training!

Apparently too many questions were ask and Sam - The Warden - started attacking him. They made explosives go off, framing Dream for letting the Syndicate in and attacking the association. Every hero got ordered to hunt him down, to get them to the prison alive.

Dream fled, he had to fight against people he had called his friends, people he had trained and people he had fought side by side. Now they were against him. Heavily injured Dream was able to escape in a storm, using the chaos.

He had knowledge of where the syndicate usually was found, rumors of where to find them when you needed them to do something for you. So Dream went there, bleeding, in pain from the wounds and the betrayal. In a back alley he fell to his knees, wondering if he had gotten wrong information.

But then a shadow fell down on him and in front of him stood the Blood God, pig skull staring down at him. In that moment Dream realized how little his life was worth, that he had given it to the hero association and now he had nothing left, he was a nobody.

With tears in his eyes he started to beg, to plead his greatest enemy to end his life. He didn't want to live in a world where the people he had fought for all his life to be the evil ones. How could he? What was left to live for?

But instead of a sword at his throat, Dream felt a big cloak wrap around him, sheltering him from the rain. In front of him knelt Blood God, his red eyes visible through the holes in the skull. He told him that instead of giving up he should use this desperation - this rage - to help the syndicate.

Dream was asked to join them, a gloved hand held out for him. With only a bit of hesitation Dream accepted, holding the hand that pulled him up back on his feet. Blood God - or Technoblade how Dream would learn in the future - helped the injured man walk.

And just like that the greatest Hero and the greatest Villain joined forces to bring down the real evil.

[pinkfey]

thinking about ursula when she’s in love

[tawfu]

a flower yet to bloom

cw: sub kabukimono, dom reader, gn reader, corruption, masturbation, virginity loss, hand jobs, blow jobs, fingering, anal sex, dacryphilia, overstimulation, size difference, masochism, praise, dick can be read as strap, mentions of codependency, exhibitionism and dismemberment

wc: 1.3k

Summary: The Electro Archon’s puppet discovers a special kind of pleasure.

A pure, delicate puppet. Pliant and innocent. You’re certain that if you didn’t take him into your hands, someone else would. Someone evil, who’d take advantage of the sweet boy.

You would never.

It was only a few months ago that you had your first encounter with Kabukimono. He was drenched, curled into a corner in Shakkei Pavilion, eyes screwed shut and hands covering his ears from the sounds of thunder and rain. 

Your hand reached out, and he looked up at you with the prettiest puppy eyes. You had to help him. His own hand grasped yours, cold and small, and he followed you home without question.

Did he see no other exit, or was he just naive? You quickly realized it was the latter.

At first, Kabukimono wasn’t the talkative type. He never requested anything, and the only words he’d mutter were “yes” and “thank you.” Even so, you’d always talk to him, and allow him to help you with house chores as a bonding activity, and with that, he slowly grew more and more attached to you. 

Bright smile greeting you when you returned from your adventures, blush painting his cheeks pink when you pointed out his beautiful features, tiny giggles escaping his lips any time you cooked together, and always eager to learn anything that you were willing to teach him.

These innocent feelings continued developing quicker than Kabukimono could understand them. Normally, seeing your skin exposed around the house or when you exited the shower didn’t cause him to react, but now, seemingly out of nowhere, he feels his whole body heat up as an unfamiliar feeling rises in his gut. He mistook it for anxiety at first, however, a more likely explanation dawned on him.

You’d told him many fairy tales of romance before, ones you’d gathered from your visits to the city of romance itself. The puppet wondered if this was what love felt like. How he shivered when your fingers grazed his arm, and the way he’d get nervous when you’d get too close. How he felt a bit weird… down there, when you praised him.

And sometimes, it would get a little painful. Surely, with your knowledge, you’d be able to give him a solution to the problem, but he was too embarrassed to ask. Those are his private parts, after all. 

All he could do was sigh in frustration, cupping himself over his pants when you were out of sight while making his way to your bedroom, plopping down on the bed with a small thud and burying his face into his pillow.

“Why does this keep happening?” he thought to himself, squirming in place– “O-oh! Oh god!” 

His eyes widened, and he was trying to comprehend what he just felt. He attempts to recreate the movement again, and the same electrifying feeling runs down his body, eliciting a gasp out of him.

It felt… really good. Right where the tingling sensation arose. So he kept going, rutting against the bed softly as he rested his chin on the pillow, hands holding onto it like a lifeline while his eyes were screwed shut. 

Soft little whines poured out of his mouth as he kept going, drooling all over your pillow. He felt guilty for dirtying it, but your sweet scent that lingered was driving him crazy. The more his dick grazed the bed, the louder he became, but he didn’t care. Kabukimono had no way of knowing that such activities were meant to be… private.

Your scurrying to the bedroom was inevitable, worried that something may have happened that caused those moans and whines of your name to be heard from afar, though the sight to be beheld wasn’t expected. Any words you had remained in your throat, leaving it as a small gasp instead.

The puppet’s head turned around at the sound of you walking in, his bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead, eyes filled with tears and cheeks burning hot as his humping subconsciously sped up at the sight of you. Your gaze only served to rile him up more, and he moaned loudly, reaching his hand out to you.

“Please help me…” he mumbled, taking hold of your hand and placing it on his cheek as the tears flowed freely.

Maybe this once, you’d indulge him.

Your sweet Kabukimono didn’t know it was possible to feel this good.

One hand tugging at his aching little cock, mouth latched onto his perky nipples as he thrashes around and cries out in pain. He could barely fit a finger in at first, but now all you can hear is the lewd squelching of your fingers, knuckles deep, stretching him open as his cum splatters all over himself once again with a scream.

And yet, this newfound pleasure that has him in a haze still leaves him absentmindedly begging for more, even if he’s overstimulated to bits. There’s no point in turning back, not when his hole clenches around nothing as you pull your fingers out, practically begging for you to stuff him full.

The puppet’s eyes dilated at the sight of your cock. It was much larger than his, but he wanted it carnally. He wanted you to feel the same pleasure he felt.

He crawled towards you, making his way between your legs and wrapping his small hand around your cock, almost inspecting it.

“Can I… put it in my mouth?” he spoke softly, innocence still laced in his voice, and you nodded, a sweet smile adorning your lips.

He smiled back shyly, wiggling in place as his lips littered kisses on the tip of your cock, before his tongue darted out to leave kitten licks there. He wasn’t good at giving blowjobs at all, but he looked too adorable and eager for complaints. No matter, you’d train him sooner or later.

“Open.” You spoke, and he complied, watching you slap your cock on his tongue before shoving it in, his eyes rolling back in response.

His hands held onto your thighs, clawing at them as you held him by the hair, pushing his head down while his tiny, wet mouth coated barely half of you with saliva. He couldn’t fit more, gagging and mewling with each bob of his head, and as much as you wanted to fuck his throat until his voice got hoarse, you only wanted to make it easier for him to take you.

Kabukimono whined when you pulled him off, and he could feel his throat burning and his scalp hurting from your hold.

“You did so well.” You kissed his sweaty forehead while maneuvering his small body to its previous position, spreading his legs apart and bending him in half hurriedly. The way you manhandled and used his body only made him twitch and leak further, face lighting up at the prospect of making you lose control from desire.

… “Making love,” he called it. Asking you to fuck him silly was too embarrassing, but the feeling of your cock slowly filling him to the brim was too addicting. How you’d cradle his face even as he’d scratch your back and lock his legs around your hips, pushing you further into him until his hole was gaping. How the sudden “I love you” that left his lips in a moan as he squirted onto his tummy was reciprocated while your cock still pistoned into him, going round after round because Kabukimono didn’t want his first time to end until he fell into unconsciousness.

And he’d beg you every day since then. To please make love to him, to ruin him again and again. It didn’t matter if you were busy, if you were outside, or if the world was lit aflame. He would still cling to you, get on his knees, spread himself open, even cut his limbs off if you so inquired. 

The pure boy you met was naught but a sweet doll, yours to use and love eternally. And making love was how lovers expressed themselves, so won’t you please wreck him until he is an empty shell, dependent and permanently living through the pleasure you graciously bless him with?

[here-there-were-dragons]

there’s something deeply wrong with the fact that if i just simply decided to walk around everywhere on all fours all day, and did absolutely nothing else differently, i would be guaranteed to have the cops called on me and be put back in a psych ward with at least 5 new diagnosis by the end of the day.

walking around on all fours isn’t even something i do or would want to do. it would destroy my arthritic-ass spine. but there’s something deeply, rage-inducingly fucked up about the fact that even something that small is enough for this society to deem it morally acceptable and necessary to dissapear you into fucking conversion therapy torture jail indefinitely and saddle you with life-ruining legal tags forever “for your and everyone’s safety”!

just commenting on this as being fucked up could very easily be enough to get me the same treatment if someone decided they wanted to! it’s not like anyone’s going to stop some psych person from deciding that this is totally real undeniable freudian slip 100% true we promise you guys evidence that i’m some kind of feral mentally degenerate personimal mindlessly beholden to some illogical instinct to crawl around and bite good normal god-fearing real people because CLEARLY you’d have to be crazy yourself and/or want to DO the thing yourself to defend this UNCOMFORTABLE THING, right? nobody could just think it’s fucked up how we treat doing (abnormal thing) without being a Secret Monster themselves, REAL people obviously know unquestioningly why it’s bad, you just want to be allowed to give in to your corrupted malformed wrong EVIL base instincts that you definitely have (INSTEAD of a conscious mind with any valid logical thoughts or worthwhile human experiences in it) because i said so and i’m The Expert so everything i say is true and right!

i can’t even figure out where to fit in the bit about how fucked it is that if you did anything “abnormal” like that literally everyone automatically assumes you’re going to be dangerous and violent about it. that if someone decides to go around on all fours then CLEARLY they’re going to randomly bite GOOD HEALTHY NORMAL REAL people for no reason. it’s like people can’t comprehend the idea of any even slightly deviant behavior that isn’t violence and just assume if anything even slightly weird’s going on it’s moving in the direction of mindless bloodshed-of good normal people’s blood, especially, personally, obviously. human-shaped things come in “actual person” and “mindless rabid horrordemon that desires only real human’s blood and pain” and as far as they’re concerned everything that even slightly inhabits, leans towards, or vaguely reminds them of the second category is functionally identical and will inevitably attack real humans the same way-for literally no reason beyond a cosmic ontological sort of Wrongness and Emptiness Of Real Thought And Soul-if allowed to exist in their field of view longer than thirty seconds.

[sailorgundam308]

Karlach isn't a good girl

Listen, LISTEN. I love her, okay? Now that's out of the way. I see many people reducing her personality to the "big friendly labrador dog" thing. And while it's cute and all that, I disagree. Let me get into why I think Karlach isn't the goodie nice girl she puts a lot of effort to be. She has just returned to Faerun when we meet her in game, and she IS trying her bestest to start anew, to be the best version of herself now that she is free. But it doesn't mean she was always like that, or that her past has not changed her. I think it did - quite a lot, in fact.

Let's start with Gortash. She worked for this fucker. Granted, she might not have known he was such an evil bastard at the time, but she was his bodyguard. And by bodyguard, it is implied that she was his bully, his enforcer and debt collector - you know, the kind that breaks knees and kills people. When she meets an old friend in the city, that friend asks her if she is still in "the business of intimidation", and offers her to come see weapons. Even though Karlach, in her mind, might have been convincing herself that doing such a job was to help someone she respected, she still did it. And that is FINE. She was a young orphan, a tiefling in a place where tieflings are discriminated against harshly, poor and without much perspective. Of course a guy coming over offering her a well paid job that she excelled in would seem like winning a lottery. Still, she was a pretty shady violent person doing it. Now, the Hells. Avernus. She was sold to Zariel quite young still, and went through all sorts of torture and other perks enslavement gets you. For 10 years. She was scared shitless while there, especially in the beginning - she says so herself (to Halsin). All the carnage she inflicted was not (very) voluntary. She HAD to, or she would be the one getting killed. But she enjoyed it - or grew to. She likes violence, the adrenaline of it, the rush of excitement. The thrill of it, she says, is second only to sex.

Continuing on. Avernus, as well as the other layers of the Nine Hells, is not like the Material Plane. The place itself influences you. It means that being in Avernus for any time changes/corrupts/influences who you are. The longer you stay there, the deeper it gets. It did so to Zariel who was a literal angel. Avernus (and it's Archdevil's personality) insidiously get in your body and heart. It is just the way it goes, lore-wise, in DnD. If a fucking SOLAR wasn't immune to it, Karlach - young and lost - certainly wouldn't be either. Even more so because she was near Zariel all the time. I strongly believe Karlach was getting more and more exactly like Zariel - who herself is a fierce berserker warrior who charges head first into battle. Zariel is KNOWN to be this crazy strong, insane, fearless and (in her mind) righteous demon-smiting war machine. Sounds similar to a nice red tiefling we know, doesn't it? Now, did Zariel chose Karlach beause she was already like this, or did Karlach took after Zariel while she fought with her? Hard to tell. In any case, Karlach's 10 years in the Hells did change her. Needless to say, Avernus doesn't change you for the better. It doesn't mean that Karlach became "evil" - she is obviously far from it. But she is chaotic, violent and bloodthirsty. She is also selfish. There are several situations where this personality trait of her comes up.

It may sound kinda wild considering how she offers to help everyone and even sacrifice herself (since she's already dying anyway) - when we meet her. But that's the thing: she is being as selfless as she can now because she has been very selfish for a very long time (proof she has a conscience). Perhaps, she is terrified of what she was becoming and is trying to make amends, to revert whatever evil was growing in her.

She mentions herself that she did not help the tieflings of Elturel when their city was pulled down into Avernus. She did not get out of her way to help them. Instead, she thought that if "she was living that nightmare, they'd have to live it too". She would not put her neck on the line to help another - which, not so coincidentally, is typical behavior in the Hells (again, proof that Avernus was indeed getting to her). The Hag's Vicious Mockery targeted specifically at Karlach mentions how she is willing to "sell everyone's soul's if it means she can save hers". We do not know exactly what it refers to - soul coins, throwing others under the bus, ignoring people in need - but it reinforces the idea that Karlach was not the nicest person for at least 12+ years. Granted, the devils around her were much worse - but they are DEVILS in HELL. So.

Generally, in game we notice that her effort to survive and stay alive has pushed her selfishness to grow. But it still is selfishness. Another example is how she disapproves (together with Astarion), if you say to healer Nettie that you "swear to drink the Wyvern poison". She wouldn't drink it. She'd rather kill Nettie (that gets hostile).

Another hint at her grey-ish personality is when she talks to/about Wyll after he is punished by Mizora for not having killed Karlach. She mentions that she would NOT have done the same in his place. That he was better than her. Again, she would not put her skin on the line like that. She would and has turned a blind eye to situations and persons if it meant it would guarantee her survival or avoid injury. (Mind you, I 100% belive she would do this sacrifice if she was in love with someone, though.)

She will ask to, and will use Soul Coins even though she knows it's morally a sus choice to do so. If you play as her she will repeat to herself "I won't use them, they are people's souls - and I am GOOD." like she is trying to convince herself. Because she would fucking use them to smash some big fuckers in a blink - and feel awesome while doing it. Even as her, she keeps insisting "But... maybe I can use them... JUST when I really need them." Additionally, when she talks to the bugbear merchant in Moonrise Towers and he offers her soul coins, she doesn't really feel guilty for the stories of the souls in them. She even says at some point "they are already doomed, so why not use them anyway", justifying that she will only kill evil bastards with them. In any case, the morality of her choice is debatable. It makes clear that Karlach is not "lawful good" by any stretch.

Let me reiterate that just because I am saying all this about Karlach, doesn't mean I dislike her. I think she is abso-fucking-lutely the best character in the game. But I hate to see her personality "flattened" to nice happy go lucky gal. I think she has a grey-tinged personality - she has good and bad aspects to herself; she has character flaws too.

But I also think that she is trying her damn hardest to be the best she can be right then. The opposite of what she's been. Maybe it is because she has so little time left, that she needs to be the absolute best version of herself while she can. Perhaps she is trying to be what she would have been if her parents did not die - because they seemed like great loving parents. And I think Karlach didn't turn into a broken evil maniac because of them, the way they raised her while they were alive. But she lost her mom at 6, her father around 13-15. After that, it was struggling on the streets, Gortash and Zariel - betrayal, violence, carnage, war and loneliness. It is too naive to think a person would not change after all this, that Karlach would not carry more scars than those she shows on her body. To her credit, she turned much MUCH better than anyone would have. She WILL kill with a grin on her face, seek violence, blood and even revel in it - she learned to relish it and now it's part of who she is. She is selfish, she will look out for herself and has no qualms about killing or throwing people she doesn't care for under the bus (if she sees justification for it). BUT she knows what evil is, and doesn't let shit happen to people who don't deserve it. She will side with those who suffer prejudice and fight against what she sees as injustice - but even she has a limit to how far she'd go.

If you raid the Emerald Grove, she will leave the party. To me, this screams of her trying to right her past wrongs. She left the Elturians to their fate once before, so she MUST save them now that she has another chance - and that it won't cost her her life. I love her being 1/3 brutal killing machine (and fucking LOVING it), 1/3 ptsd, fear and overcompensating trauma under a smile, and 1/3 just trying her best, really, and being lovely for it. Phew. That was a long rant. I guess I just wanted to organize my thoughts about it a bit :V

[lokigodofaces]

how does aos continue to always outdo itself? every season, it gets crazier and crazier. like season one is pretty normal, seems pretty typical of the mcu, the only odd thing is how coulson came back to life, it didn't affect skye, it affected garrett like crazy, and now coulson has hypergraphia. then season two has inhumans, okay, but that's easy enough to work with, to see that's crazy would be like saying the concept of x-men is insane. then season three comes along, and jemma is stuck on another planet, okay. and now ward is dead on that planet, alright. now ward's dead body is being possessed by an immortal inhuman that mind controls other inhumans, okay. season 4, there are ghosts? alright, okay. also ghost rider. and robbie's uncle is breaking physics, okay, using the book of the damned. which changes based on the the viewer and corrupts people. also fitz & radcliffe made a scarily human like android, alright. now aida is making brains out of light after reading the darkhold, okay. robbie is in hell now, alright. radcliffe replaced may with an lmd, okay. mace isn't inhuman, this is fine. crap, everyone was replaced by lmds, this is fine, this is fine. okay, okay, they're all in a virtual prison where hydra took over & fitz & may are #2 and #3 in hydra. also aida is #1 and has fallen in love with fitz and made a real body for herself but she does not take rejection well. coulson is ghost rider, cool, and he kills aida. and now they're all in future in space and have to time travel to stop this from happening. also daisy might be the one to destroy the world, that's fine. oh, deke, he's fitzsimmons' grandson, and he has a crush on daisy. also coulson is dying and talbot has superpowers. now talbot is going to destroy the world, but daisy stops him just in time, cool. now fitz is dead. but wait! there's another fitz floating around in space with enoch, they can find that fitz. coulson is dead. now coulson's doppelganger with no memories is on earth & killing people and demon birds. also he wants to nuke the landing site for izel. okay, jemma found fitz, but now they're in a chronicum mind prison and evil versions of themselves try to kill themselves, but then the evil ones make out in front of the good ones. now fitzsimmons are on a ship with izel, but they just realized she's evil. okay, but they kill her, right? nope, she possessed davis. and may. and diaz. and piper. and deke. and fitz. and pretty much everyone else, notable ones being mack, piper, davis, and elena (she killed davis :( ). oh, also coulson accidentally created a clone of himself when the monoliths blew up and all. that clone is immortal and host of some crazy powerful thing. and it's half way through the second to last season.

and what's great is that you just get used to it. like, i probably forgot so much stuff on this list because they just seem normal now. i mean, i almost forgot to mention tahiti and ghost rider, so that is saying something.

[wokelander]

what is it ab leon that makes anti dead dove people crazy? I wrote for jjk tr demon slayer so many other things and have never gotten this backlash before. arguably out of all of those pieces of media resident evil has the darkest overt themes with corruption being one of the biggest things in leon’s plot lines. it has implied incest with Alex and Albert + alexia and Alfred. 12 year old sherry is implied to impregnated by her father in the original game, references to rape towards rebecca in vendetta.. like and that’s not even everything and even if those things weren’t present re is still a horror game hello

like idk omg I’m just confused on how they look at leon and come away with like oh he’s so silly and goofy and he wants to rub rose oil into my back and that’s all you have for him… I don’t think fluff fics r ooc I write them sometimes but if you’re hating on dead dove fics for the way they represent leon and how it’s ooc how are you writing fics of him being happy and fun loving and like ooc when half of the time dead dove fics keep him super in character .. idk like sure whatever he’s a nice guy but he wouldn’t do all the things you write about so who cares if I write him doing things he would never do and also who cares why can you not scroll I don’t get it.. like why would you willingly read something that upsets you? if it’s so triggering how on earth did you sit through it just to complain and cause a fuss at the end

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Picture an Angel

warning : obsession, using of ropes, innocent/naive reader, older man/younger woman, Frollo being Frollo

Info : Our lord and savior has a hold on me and I wanted to write more for him and his way to corrupt the innocent reader. I see you guys liked my first One-Shot with him here is more have fun reading ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His angel. She was his angel, his sweet angel in the church that was almost completely in his hands. He knew exactly that as soon as either her father died or another man came he had to strike. He had to finally have her, the golden ring on her finger that he had bought her specially would be given to her by him.

He would own her as his wife. Knew that it would only take a few more steps until they would be united under God and he had her all to himself. But until then he still had time to play his game and would do so. Because like every lord, every man with influence and power he wanted to show this.

Wanted to see and show the beauty of his love at all times. A work of art. He wanted to hold her beauty, wanted to have her hanging on his wall until he would finally have her. A picture of temptation in his bedroom and to dream about his physical desire to finally give satisfaction.

He would not entrust this work of art to any artist too much he was afraid that the one would take her away from him. Artists as beautiful as art could be were free spirits and could enchant such young, delicate beings as his angel was.

But he himself had strength he knew he would exploit their piety and naivety. Because he was the church and would thus protect them from evil. The evil that was everywhere and only his angel was the light in this damned world.

,,My angel" he murmured and his ringed fingers ran over the stained glass window in his room. A creation that spoke even more for his wealth. The light of the rising sun the red of the glass flaming sun punished him the cave called for him and would eventually fetch him.

A cave that surrounded him and the church the home of his angel. He saw the church, saw Notre Dame and knew that she was lighting the candles. How beautiful she looked as she lay down and prayed before the Blessed Virgin.

How her hands were clasped together, her head bowed, or sometimes looking up at the statue. He watched her as if she were his holy virgin the gesture went from pious in his eyes to lustful. Kneeling before him she would either way.

His horse Snowball was already saddled and made ready at his door. And with the ringing of the church bells he got on his horse and rode through the dirty streets of Paris to get closer to the church.

He rode faster and faster, the people he did not care and rushed or jumped to the side. They were unfair and were only unnecessarily in his way. The mob turned away and only moments later he had arrived at his angel.

His pretty holy angel he would wait for him in the church. Descending and straightening his clothes, he opened the heavy church door made of the old wood before the cold of the stones gave way to him.

The torches and candles were burning and yet no one seemed to be here. No one except himself and his pretty angel. Where are you, my love? he asked himself, stepping forward and after a few minutes he heard the soft singing. The bright voice of his love seemed to call him and he followed.

He followed her up to the church tower where she had her room. The big room with the view of the city she loved. The city where she stayed only with her father or a few guards, otherwise Frollo would always be at her side.

The thought that she might come to harm had made the judge a little crazy. But the possibility that he would lock her up in such a way that the people would hate him even more did not occur to him. He listened to the singing for a few more minutes before knocking.

,,Who is it?" she asked and he thought he heard her startled gasp. You will sing for me, my heart, went through his mind before he announced himself and entered her room. The light of the sun shining on her through the window, the colored glass showing an angel with a white rose made her look even more beautiful.

The light dress she wore was pretty and yet chaste it was perfectly fitted to her. But he could see exactly her ankles, her tender hands and wrists and her neck and guess what her body looked like underneath.

Her beauty would still belong to him. ,,My Lord, you have come for the picture," she said, and he heard her uncertainty, knowing that her father knew nothing about it. She had told Frollo that day that the Dean of Paris would visit the orphanages in the city.

The elder nodded, looked in the corner of her room and saw under the large white cloth the canvas and the easel, the colors her father had given her for her twentieth birthday. A day on which Frollo had also given her something.

A golden ring with an amethyst inserted, he had put it on her finger. A look at her hands told him that she still wore it. She belonged to him, respected and only because she did not know the world as he knew it. ,,Am I really suitable for this...there are more beautiful women" she murmured and looked at her hands on which the ring was.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, seeing her looking up at him as his hand came down on hers. ,,Not my flower," he started and ran his fingers over her cheek, turning her head towards the small mirror which was another gift from him to her. He saw her looking at herself and saw the small discoloration of her cheeks.

,,You are the image of the Virgin Mary, you are true piety and beauty," he finished telling her before detaching himself from her and instructing her to sit on her chair while he set up the easel and placed the blank canvas on it. ,,I'll adjust it a little for the perfect picture," he said after setting up the oil paints knowing he was the only one who could paint her perfectly. It was his.

Separating himself from the painting, he went over to her and took a rope from his coat pocket. ,,It is the ribbons of faith that have made Mary consort with the angel...as you blossom here, you too will live up to the angel, won't you?" he asked and the rope slowly tightened around her wrists holding her hands in the praying position folded on her lap.

His long thin cold fingers were adept at tying the knot, taking his time before lightly grasping her chin and making her look up.

There was uncertainty in her gaze as he knelt down and lightly lifted the fabric of her dress. ,,Frollo!" she said in surprise and wonder, and she wanted to pull away, but he just put his hand on her thigh and placed the ruffled fabric in her hand.

,,Always one step at the sin...the flesh of the body and the beauty is what the devil wants isn't it?" he asked and saw how she seemed slightly overwhelmed her voice that could sing so beautifully fell silent for a moment before she nodded and turned her gaze towards the picture. Goosebumps appeared on her body as his fingers stroked up her ankle and he withdrew.

Even her good faith only went so far as she could interpret a man's desires. ,,Is everything done so far?" she dared to ask, looking at him hopefully, still knowing that for a woman of God's house she must look lewd. But for Frollo she was everything.

She was the angel of innocence and the fire of sin on which he would and should burn himself. ,,It's ready, I'll start, don't move my dear" he demanded and she complied with his request. Frollo took the brush and began to apply the first colors to the painting.

While his fingers knew exactly what they were doing, his eyes kept going over her body and he saw her either avoiding his gaze, not holding it, or looking at the window with the angel. His eyes held on the ropes at her wrist, imagining how her body would look when he tied her to the bed.

The rope would leave marks on her hands, legs, thighs, arms and breasts. The marks he would caress to make up for it. Would she cry? The tears in her eyes dripping onto the pillow he would wipe away and kiss away, reassuring her that it was his will.

She would be good to him. She had to. As she held up her dress he saw more and more of her skin and enjoyed the warmth and softness as he stroked over it. He imagined what it would be like to have her next to him, warming his bed and keeping him warm. She would become his angel. His wife.

His until the sun threatened to set in the sky and he knew they would have to continue it another day. ,,It's time...Father will be back soon" she said and he saw how the position was starting to hurt her and she tried to move a little. But he calmly put back the colors and the canvas.

He let her take her time before returning to her, letting the fabric fall back over her ankles and twisting a strand of her hair back and forth between his fingers. ,,We'll finish it, I promise, my flower," he murmured and after a time that was almost too long he opened the rope and took it with him.

He helped her up from the chair and in an act of lust kissed her wrist prints. He heard her surprised gasp but she did not pull away. ,,For your effort, I'll bring you a rose next time, it goes with the picture," he said and saw her nod a little before she lowered her gaze again and shut up. But by the time the dean arrived, his daughter had already put on her gloves and was reading again.

But the shot and the kiss still seemed to burn like the cave fire that would await Frollo after he landed in the grave. But as this would still have time, because first the devil would go to the flower sooner or later. Sooner or later she would be his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ria-coolgirl , @hesperia24 , @aliensthegreat , @strangecrowd133 , @her3ge , @fantadym @ranminfan , @siwucha , @cat-lover-nile

[fluffysucker]

Bad Things

Bucky Barnes x Reader

TW: Violence. Fighting. Brief mention of torture. Steve is alive and well.

The only way out was to awake them. And you did.

A/n: Heavily influenced by oxytocin by Billie Eilish. No like you will find lyrics throughout. Listen to it while reading, please.

Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me.

Main Masterlist

You were sure that if you weren't driving the motorcycle, your legs would be bouncing, your hands would be shaking, and your palms would be sweating. But you were focusing on the road ahead despite feeling like you were driving on autopilot. You may not look like it, but you were a mess. Internally, at least. Anxity from the plan, danger of the situation, horrors from flashbacks, and uncertainty of the results. You were bitting your lips that you were close to feeling the metallic-tasting liquid on your tongue.

The darkness that grew, the further you got close to the agreed upon location, wasn't helping either. For someone who did this for a lifetime, you were spiraling. You wished you could cancel everything and come up with something different, but you couldn't.

Can't take it back once it's been set in motion.

You started to regulate your breath, take control of your mind, and keep your heartbeats in check once you saw the warehouse. It was now. There was no going back.

You stopped the motorcycle abruptly, causing the sand and dust around you to fly away. You took one last breath before taking the helmet out.

You got up and steadied your posture. The suit was never comfortable on your skin. Today, you felt like it was crawling on your skin, trying to devour you. You hid the suffocating feeling and put the act into action.

If you only pray on Sunday,

Could you come my way on Monday?

Confidence and peril were displayed. A strenuous look on your face. You were back in her.

"I thought you weren't coming." His voice annoyed you so much that you wanted to cut his throat open.

"I gave you a word, didn't I?" You came to a stop with enough distance between you and him. Even your voice was different in your ears.

"It's not like you had many choices." His laugh sent shivers through your body that you were able to hide.

"I always believed in your intelligence, moon." You pulled your hands into fists to stop any visible reaction from coming out of you.

The name was only associated with corruption and cruelty. Something the man in front of you strived for.

"With both of your capabilities, we will go back to the top of the world." The evil smile was more telling of his intentions than his disturbing words.

With the mere mention of him, you felt the air get thicker, the wind blowing harder, the stars dimming their lights, and the rocks and pebbles shaking on the floor.

He was here.

"Great. We didn't have to wait long for him." The man almost clapped in excitement.

In the sea of the darkness of the night and the void you were in, he appeared. His black suit made him almost unseen in the darkness of the night. But his heavy footsteps made him known.

The golden in his arm reflecting the light of the stars and the mask covering all his face except the eyes were making him even more fearful.

In person, he was much more terrifying than the stories and myths.

However, the crazy man didn't think so.

"Would you look at that?" He said once that the two of you were standing next to each other. You wanted to hold his hand, seeking any sort of comfort and reassurance, but you knew it would blow out your act.

"The Winter Soldier and Wicked Moon. Together and back at their home."

Dugal, the man speaking, had been the bane of your existence for some time now. Every mission, every warehouse, every file, and every piece of evidence all trailed back to him.

The manic, who had been obsessed with bringing Hydra back to life,.

With the right allies and calculated steps, he was able to achieve most of his plans in secret, but why show yourself now? Why draw attention to you now?

Because it was time to get Hydra's greatest weapons back.

You and your husband.

You and Sergeant James Barnes

Wicked Moon and The Winter Soldier.

You and Bucky shared the same life. Kidnapped by Hydra, injected with the serum, erased and brainwashed, trained to maximum efficiency. You reached levels of skills that were unmatched.

Despite the different start, you and Bucky were the faces of the same coin.

You were taken a bit after Bucky. Hydra had the goal of making both of you into its lethal duo. Unbeatable and unpredictable. You and Bucky became the ghost story for decades. Never once seen or traced.

You were a myth that terrified all.

And for decades, you spent all your days with Bucky, or who you called soldier at a time, because you didn't know his real name. Nor did he know yours, and he called you Moon.

You shared a cell. You trained together. You were sent on missions together. You were tortured together. You were used to each other's screams and pains. You were the same person in many ways.

While Hydra was blinded and happy with your success rate and obedience, they failed to notice the deep connection that was forming between the two of you.

The comfort you found in each other. The conversations without words. The accustomedness. The long eye contact and gaze The gentle touches that only you provided each other with. The worry and panic if one went on solo missions.

You understood each other. You trusted each other. You empathized with each other. You prayed for each other's freedom.

You loved each other.

So, looking at Bucky with questioning and worried eyes above Steve Roger's unconscious body after you disobeyed the direct orders of eliminating Steve and following Bucky to save him from death by drowning, Bucky knew he could never leave you. He took your hand and ran away.

Other people wouldn't stay

Other people don't obey

You and me are both the same

You should really run away

It was a long and bumpy road. Gaining back your memories and learning how to live. But you held each other's hands. And in the face of all the hardships, you stood together.

You fought it all until you finally settled into your shared apartment in Brooklyn. Almost ten years after escaping Hydra.

You thought life was finally good. You knew who you were. You got back your identities. You were healing bit by bit. You finished therapy and were officially pardoned. You were allowed on missions, but more importantly, you were allowed to turn down missions. A luxury you and Bucky never had.

You were so happy for Bucky, who got to have his bestfriend back, Steve, and make a new one, Sam. You were happy that one of you could have someone, especially after finding out that you had nobody, which made you the perfect target for Hydra in the first place.

But being the good people they were, Steve and Sam instantly took you in like family. They could easily tell how much you meant to Bucky. Even from the first day. Whether on the bridge or in Bucharest, The uncontrolled urge to protect you despite being perfectly capable of looking after yourself. The care and admiration in his eyes whenever you were around or your name was mentioned. All and more signs that exposed Bucky's feelings for you.

They were more than happy when Bucky told them that you got married on the very long, overdue vacation that you went on.

You were everything to Bucky's. His love. His life. His rescue. His salvation. You were his reason to keep going.

While he felt bad that you had to go through the tough life you had, he couldn't imagine how his life would have looked if he had never met you.

So when the danger of Hydra taking you away from him arose with Dugal's appearance, Bucky almost lost his mind.

Dugal seemed insistent on taking you and Bucky back. He was destroying places, terrorizing, and hurting innocent people. Dugal heard you were trying to be good people, so he played on your conscience. He was pushing you and Bucky towards this moment. The moment you caved and gave up. The moment you returned to Hydra.

So, with his knife on Cass's neck, you surrendered. You promised to meet him and do whatever he wanted. And you promised to bring Bucky as well. He wanted the both of you.

And you listened.

Here you were. In the suits you thought you would never put on again. Triggering the two people you buried so deeply within. In front of the warehouse of an enemy, you fought for and against your whole lives.

"This is your home. This is your purpose. Not fake heroism. You were made to serve the greater good. To protect and serve Hydra." Dugal's voice made its way to your ears.

"You belong to Hydra. And Hydra only."

'Cause as long as you're still breathing

Don't you even think of leaving

Not gonna wanna look away, look away, look away

You're gonna wanna get involved, involved, involved

And what would people say, people say, people say

If they listen through the wall, the wall, the wall?

You kept the stoic expression on your face, refusing to let him see the effect his words had on you.

The door of the warehouse opened, and walking out of it were Dugal's two trusted men that you saw everywhere with him. Nedward and Alexios. They stopped behind him.

Following them, hundreds of agents came out of the warehouse. They surrounded you and Bucky in seconds. You looked at Dugal, confused.

"I want to make sure you are still the best. I want to know where to pick up from." His smile was wicked and filled with bad intentions.

"Call it a test. A test of Wicked Moon and The Winter Soldier's abilities." His wicked smile wasn't flattering.

You got into a fighting position quickly, not willing to lose this. You felt Bucky take position, too, his back turning to you. You were back-to-back, moving in slow circles, assisting the situation.

And once the first agent threw the punch, it was nonstop.

I can see it clear as day

You don't really need a break

Wanna see what you can take

You should really run away

While the agents largely outnumbered you, they were at a disadvantage. You and Bucky fought like one. You had a never-seen-before fight style. You designed it so that you used each other's strengths to the full and utilized the weaknesses as power points. You used your full bodies in fighting. You were familiar with each other's bodies and movements. You grabbed weapons that were strapped to the other's suit. You twisted around each other to reach as many targets as possible. You trained until you perfected it. No flaws. No mistakes. No room for lacunas.

It didn't take long before the last agent was down on the floor. You felt like it was harder to breathe. There was a ringing noise in your ears. Your hand wanted to start shaking. Tears were rushing to your eyes. You were having a panic attack.

Memories of missions and assignments you did throughout your life It all looked like this. You standing above the fallen, waiting for your destiny to be decided by an evil organization that thought of you as an object of killing.

Dugal's voice gave you a sense of where you were and the situation around you. Quickly, you pushed your emotions inside and regained your focus. A trait you learned from your days at Hydra. Human emotions were never well accepted by Hydra.

You shook your head as you looked at Dugal, who was clapping slowly.

"Excellent. Great job." He moved a bit towards the both of you.

"It seems you haven't changed. Still the best." You succeeded in his test.

"You did cost me all the agents in the base. But we will bring more." Dugal was proud of the two assets.

"So it's only us in here?" You were hoping to get a specific answer.

"Yes. Tomorrow, I will bring agents and recruiters. Also, scientists who know how to treat and handle great weapons like you. This will be Hydra's biggest base." Dugal seemed excited for his plan.

However, once the words left his mouth, chaos erupted everywhere.

Bucky caught the shield in his hand as Sam and Steve landed on the ground and attacked Dugal. You and Bucky moved to Nedward and Alexios. Each taking on one.

Cars and vehicles appeared everywhere, lighting up the deserted place.

This was the plan all along.

No matter how much time passed, Hydra's men would always have something in common. They were arrogant. They had an ego big enough for an entire population. And that made them stupid. That made them vulnerable to mistakes.

You and Bucky knew that more than anyone. So the plan was to trick Dugal with your alliance until he was defenceless. It was risky, but it worked.

You only let go of Alexios once handcuffs were secured around his wrists. Same with Bucky and Nedward. You turned to see Sam and Steve holding Dugal until Torres handcuffed him.

"You think you won?" His words were more direct towards you and Bucky.

"You think you can ever escape this? You think you can be free? You are delusional. Hydra will never die." Dugal continued. Torres handcuffed him, letting Steve through him in one of the more armored cars and strapping him more.

"Cut off one head; two more shall take its place. Hail HYDRA!"

Steve closed the door of the car.

They weren't planning to cut off one head. They were planning to burn down the whole bunch. No mercy. No stopping until they were all gone.

Once his voice was muted and you couldn't see him anymore, you couldn't hold up any longer. You sat on the ground, hugging your knees to your chest, trying to get hold of yourself, trying to reconnect, trying to disassociate from what just happened.

Like you, immediately after the car started to move, Bucky threw the mask off his face, finally breathing. He hated everything about this mask. Trapped like an animal behind it. Deprived of any form of humanity.

He prayed he never had to put on again.

"You okay?" Sam asked his friend, worried about the mental toll this whole act may have had on him.

Despite having his nephews being the ones in danger, Sam was against this plan. He cared about you and Bucky dearly and didn't want to know how stepping back into your assassin personas would hurt your healing. You had come a long way.

While your quick response to save his nephews and willingness to do this for them touched his heart immensely, Sam couldn't help but feel like they should come up with something else.

But both of you insisted, and it worked, but was the cost expensive?

Bucky nodded. They were okay physically, at least.

Bucky turned around to see you still sitting on the sandy ground, face in hand. He knew it wasn't just today, but the whole thing. Hydra still haunted you, messing with your progress. He understood.

Bucky sat on the ground next to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling into him and letting you lay in his laps, both of your legs on the side of his thigh. You nuzzled into his neck, holding his gear in your hand. You wanted to disappear in him.

"It's over. You're fine. You are okay. You are safe." Bucky's voice whispered in your ears, the end of his long hair touching your face and his hands wrapping up your back and waist.

You felt the tension leaving your body a bit by bit, making yourself only focus on Bucky's voice and letting yourself breathe. You knew you were surrounded by people, but you didn't care.

You only cared about Bucky right now.

You moved away from Bucky so you could look at him.

"We are okay. We are safe." You said to Bucky.

Because you cared about Bucky more than you cared about yourself. You loved Bucky more than anything. Bucky was the reason you were still alive. Bucky was your everything.

You wanted him to know that he was okay, too. You both survived this. You weren't back in that cell. You were going to your home.

Being the good-hearted person he was, Bucky always felt responsible for you. Even when he was the Winter Soldier. That's how the spark between you kindled. His instincts to protect you and care for you took a big part of him. And that made you fall deeper in love with him.

But you loved him just as much, if not more. You wanted to protect him from the hell you went through. Because he didn't deserve it. None of it.

The bigger burden of today wasn't the possibility of falling back into your old selves. It was the possibility of losing your partner to Hydra and watching them lose themselves once again.

You both came in with one goal. Protect each other to death.

And you succeeded. You were fine.

Bucky looked at you with love pouring out of his eyes. Bucky didn't understand how, after so much evil, he was still able to feel such strong emotions of love and adoration. But you melted him and lived in his heart. You were printed on his soul.

He nodded with a smile. You were okay. He leaned in and kissed you. It was a slow and gentle kiss. A reminder that you were both still yourselves. You were free. You were okay.

"Let's go home." You spoke once the kiss broke.

Home. Bucky was going home to the city he grew up in. He was going home to a place he had chosen to live. He was going home, where he would take a shower and lay on a comfortable bed. Bucky was going with his wife. Bucky was going to hold on as you both got rid of the remains of tonight. Bucky was going to hold you as you both drifted to sleep, dreaming of your future together.

Hydra didn't win. You were okay.

[shiopi]

A/n: The urge to let fyodor do whatever he wants to me is too strong help its 8 am

Fyodor dostoevsky x fem!reader

Tw: ⚠️ nsfw, meandom!fyodor, power imbalance, manipulation, corruption kink, fyodor and reader are not in a relationship he simply manipulates reader and reader doesnt fight back. Dark content, MINORS STRICTLY DNI. Not proofread.

Just the thought of Fyodor using his power against you to make you into his toy, whether it be for making you do his dirty work and killing people for him, or using your body whenever he wants just to get himself off and then throwing you away or telling you to get lost, the thought of that makes your body shiver in both pleasure and fear.

He is the type of person that does not care about your pleasure at all when it comes to sex. He will manipulate you into thinking he loves you oh so dearly with an evil cruel on his face, when in reality, you are simply just a toy for him, something he uses to get rid of stress because he knows you will let him do whatever he wants and you will be a good, obedient girl for him. He knows you are crazy for him, that you will do anything just to earn his acknowledgment. And he uses that power over you to his full advantage. Be it from bombing government buildings to getting rid of bodies, he will make you do it and will promise a gift from him in return so that way even if you are unwilling to do it at first, the thought of receiving a gift from the person you love the most is enough motivation to get you to succumb to his orders and let yourself be put in danger willingly.

And the gift he promises you in return? A silky night gown that hugs your curves perfectly, exposing your collarbone and your shoulders, oh its quite revealing. It doesnt do a whole lot to cover your chest either. But you are more than happy to wear it just for him despite being embarrassed and a blushing mess. He chuckles, that cruel smirk still present on his face as he thinks its quite cute. And foolish, of you to let yourself surrender yourself to him like this. To let a single man rule over you like this for who knows how much more time. Will he ever accept you? Or will he continue to use and manipulate you with that sickening gaze of his that just screams how much he wants to absolutely ruin you, to break you and then fix you with some loving words, only to break you again. Ahh....just the thought of it makes his lips turn into a wide smile that is full of mischief and evil.

He will fuck you in that night gown for hours and hours, not caring a single bit about your pleasure or discomfort. But he knows how much you can take and what you can't. Maybe somewhere in his heart, theres a part of him that wants to cradle you in his arms and kiss you lovingly and gift you the most brilliant treasures of the world. Maybe.

After he finished fucking you for what feels like eternity, he will give you some water and kiss your cheek just one time. And that is if he's feeling generous. If he's not? Then, he will tell you to get up and go on another mission for him meanwhile you are too fucked out to even process what he's saying. Your body hurts so much and when you tell him that, he will give a mocking laugh. "What do you mean you can’t go? Are you defying me? Do you need a reminder of who owns you?"

Yet, even if you complain a bit, you and Fyodor both know that you wouldn’t have it any other way and would comply to all his orders and let yourself be broken just so he can maybe kiss you and fix you...just so he can break you again. After all, you are a doll for him to toy with as he pleases and he knows that you will do whatever he wants you to.

[captain19cb97]

Fairytale (M/F/A) P1.5 :: l.mh

Synopsis: Minho doesn't pretend to know everything, but he's positive that he knows this much is true.

Pairing: Mafia!Lee Know x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Genre: Mafia AU. Fluff, some angst, smut! Established friendship to relationship. Secrets.

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ audience! Small SMUT moment, mention of violence, mentions of weapons- (not in this part but in others) please don't read if anything related to violence are triggers for you in any way, shape, or form. This little series will not be without some deaths, sadly, I mean, they are mafia after all... Cursing, crying. The usual pet names- baby, jagi.

(A/N:: Just a little filler part that I wanted to do. I felt like it would be nice to see some of Minho's inner thoughts about them. I hope you guys enjoy! As always, please let me know if I've left any warnings out)

How did Minho know that things with you would be any different?

It was a question that Minho seemed to keep asking himself whenever he had to cancel plans with you because something happened or he had a mission, but you never questioned him about why he needed to leave your place at 2 or 3 in the morning to go to work, or why he was canceling dinner plans only hours before he was supposed to pick you up.

Before he knew it, months had gone by, and you two were still together, and even then, you still never asked him about all the little work related mishaps that he had to deal with. Until one night, about 5 months into being together, he came over and was sporting a nasty looking bruise along his jaw, and his lip was busted up a little.

You frowned at him the minute he stepped foot into your apartment, seeing the look on his face. “What happened to you?” You asked, quickly getting up from the couch and rushing towards him.

He sighed as he set his things down by the door, “Some crazy asshole tried to get to Chan today. I threw myself in between them so Chan didn’t get hurt.”

Mostly true, but then again, you didn’t need every detail.

You were silent for a moment as you gently touched his cheek, nudging his chin to turn his head so you could really look at the damage.

“Someone tried to attack your boss?” You asked, the genuine surprise in your tone not lost on Minho as you led him into the bathroom to put some ointment on the cut on his lip and to tend to the bruises you could see beginning to form along his jaw. “Why?”

“He was some protester, I guess.” Minho shrugged, leaning against the bathroom counter as you moved around him. “He’s convinced that the company is responsible for that accident that happened at that product factory a couple weeks back. And since it’s Chan’s company, he blames Chan for it.”

You frowned deeply, holding Minho’s chin between your fingers to keep him still, “Even an idiot would know that Chan and the company aren’t responsible for what happened at that factory.” You shook your head, “Chan’s got power and money, yes, but he’s not corrupt or evil. And he’s definitely not going to blow up his own factory and kill innocent people in the process for any reason.”

Minho flinched as you wiped an alcohol covered cotton pad across the cut, “You’ve never met him and yet you sound so sure about him.” He commented, admittedly letting his own curiosity of what you’d think loosen his mouth a little. “How do you know he isn’t corrupt or evil?”

You simple peered up at him, gently applying the healing ointment to his lip now, and smiled softly, “Because I don’t think you’d have put yourself in front of him, if he was either of those things.” You answered easily. “You’re not corrupt, or evil, so I doubt you’d work for someone who is.”

“I could be.” He said softly, his eyes following your every move.

You stopped putting the first aid kit away, staring back up at Minho with soft eyes and an even softer smile, “You carry cat treats in your pockets when we go on walks because of the stray cats around this neighborhood. You help Mrs. Yang down the hall with her groceries when you see her struggling in the lobby. You wave at kids on the street whenever we go somewhere.” You grinned up at him, “You are not corrupt or evil, baby.”

“You sound awfully sure about that.” He countered, an almost undetectable edge to his words.

You looked him in the eyes. “Because I am sure about it,” You replied easily. “I have never once felt unsafe with you, or around you. You actually make me feel the safest I’ve felt since I was a child and given all the things I’ve seen in my life, that’s as close to a miracle as it gets, Min.”

You were both quiet for a moment before you gave him a gentle smile, “Is Chan okay?”

He let out a small sigh and nodded, “Completely, yeah. The guy never got near him.”

“Thanks to you,” you offered him a gentle smile. “Did Chan have the guy arrested or is he pressing charges on your behalf?”

Minho hesitated for a mere second in his reply, knowing that where that guy was currently locked up was the furthest thing from a lawful imprisonment that someone could get when it came to Chan or the guys, “Something like that, yeah.”

You nodded, “Good. Then whatever happens to him from here on out is entirely deserved for trying to attack your boss.” Then you let out a soft breath, “I’m just glad that you’re okay, though. You’re not in too much pain, are you?” You asked, gently cupping his slightly bruised cheek.

He shook his head, “I’ve dealt with much worse, jagi, don’t worry about me.”

You gave him a look, “Normally I don’t, but when you show up at my apartment at almost midnight with a face that’s bloody and bruised, it’s kind of hard not to, my love.”

You both fell into a quick silence once again. Minho was waiting for you to truly begin questioning him about what really happened, while you were just looking over his face, really taking in his very minor injuries. You had questions- of course you had questions- but you weren’t going to ask any of them because it wasn’t anything he wanted to talk about, clearly. If he did, he never would’ve stopped talking in the first place.

But you never asked anything else.

He just continued to stare down at you for another moment, before he grabbed the sides of your face, quickly blanketing your lips with his. He knew he caught you off guard, but you kissed him back eagerly, gripping the sides of his shirt in your hands as you relaxed into the kiss, letting him pull you as close as possible before he slowly wrapped his hands under your thighs, and lifted you from the floor.

You pulled away from his lips in surprise, eyes wide as he carried you out of the bathroom and straight to your bed. He peered up at you, standing with his knees just barely brushing the mattress, set on laying you down as you stared at each other.

You could see the words swirling behind his eyes, but he wasn’t actually saying anything, as you gently stroked his cheek with one hand, the other still threaded in the back of his hair. “What are you thinking about, my love?” You whispered, your nose brushing his.

How did Minho know that things with you would be any different?

Minho would admit to not knowing everything, but he was as sure about you as he was about breathing. And while he was still hesitant about many things because this was so entirely new to him, and his only example for something similar went down in flames, and is now the reason Chan implemented new foundations for new protocols within the crew for safety.

You were nothing like Haerin- Minho hadn’t trusted her from the moment Chan introduced her to the boys- but you? Minho was captivated by you the moment he laid eyes on you. And he felt as comfortable around you as he did around all the boys, he always has.

He took that to mean that his sixth sense was still working, he’d never been wrong about someone or something yet, not even after all the years he’s spent not trusting a single person other than the crew, or you.

There was something about you that he could never pinpoint, something that told him you were everything you seemed to be where he was concerned. You had your secrets, but he didn’t push about knowing them, anymore than you pushed him to know his.

How did Minho know that things with you would be any different?

Because you showed him every single day that you wanted the person he was at 2 in the morning while you both are wrapped up together in your bed, talking about how he’d reorder the letters of the alphabet if he had to.

And when you asked him how work was at the end of the day, it was the same questions, “How was your day, baby?” and, “I hope you had a good day today because my god, you look too handsome to not have had a good day.” And honestly, his favorite to answer to when he tells you it was a slow day, “Did your day go as slow as mine did today because you missed me so much?”

You never asked for more, and when he tells you that he doesn’t want to talk about his day, you smile at him, kiss his cheek and tell him that it’s okay, “We can just make dinner, then.” And the night goes on like he’s just some regular joe kinda boyfriend.

Minho doesn’t pretend to know everything, but he’s positive that he knows this much is true.

He let out a breath through his nose, pecking your lips once, twice, three times before he knelt on the bed. “How much I love you.” He mumbled gently laying you on your back as he trailed soft kissed from your lips, down your neck, across the bare skin of your chest, where you shirt didn’t cover, before he was planting his lips back on yours again.

His words rang in your ears, and you slowly pulled away from him, your eyes flicking between his. “You mean that?”

He cupped your cheek, a small smile on his face, “With everything I have.”

You blinked, “Say it again.” You whispered.

He pecked your lips once, mumbling against them, “I love you.”

You hummed softly into the next kiss, hands tangled in his hair, “I love you.” You said against his lips.

The weight of his body on top of yours was comforting and yet, also lighting a fire within you, the longer he kissed you- which by now felt like an eternity. His hands trailed along your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he held and gripped different parts of you. And you could feel that you weren’t the only one being affected.

“Min,” You breathed softly, your eyes closed at the feeling of his lips pressed to your neck, before you gasped in pleasure when he sank his teeth into your skin.

“I want you.” He panted against your shoulder, “Fuck, I-I need you, baby.”

You felt yourself nodding before he’d even finished talking, gripping the back of his head tightly, pulling his lips back to yours, “Please, Minho. Please, touch me.” You begged, arching your back and pressing your chest into his.

He let out a strained noise, quickly kissing you again, and letting his hand wander a little lower than before, his fingertips dancing along the band of your sweatpants for only a moment before he slid his hand under the elastic.

You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of him applying gentle pressure against your clit before he started teasing your slit, was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“You’re soaked already, baby,” He smirked against your lips, teasingly rubbing his finger up and down your slit even slower, “What should I do about that, hmm?”

You let out a shaky breath, as he continued his ministrations, “Do anything, just don’t be gentle about it.”

He chuckled darkly, nudging his nose against your jaw, “Oh, baby, no. Of course not.” His breath fanned your neck before he pressed the lightest kiss to your skin, “I’m not going to make love to you, I’m not even going to fuck you.”

You whined, your brows pinching together as you shot him a pleading look, “Please.”

He cupped your jaw with his other hand, keeping your eyes on his as he smiled wickedly, “You’re still going to get my cock, baby, don’t worry. But this time- this time, I’m going to own you. Completely.” His eyes searched yours, “Got it?”

You whimpered, your mind already fuzzy from just him toying with you, but his words were sending your brain into a haze as you nodded as much as you could with him tightly holding your jaw.

“Use your words, Kitten. You never stop using that pretty mouth, so don’t stop now.”

Your eyes closed as he suddenly plunged two fingers into your core, easily hitting that spongy spot within you. “Fuck!” You moaned, digging your nails into his bicep. “Yes, baby. I’m yours, you know I’m always all yours.” You babbled, already feeling the not in your stomach tightening. “Use me, own me, do whatever you want to me.” You panted, throwing your head further into the mattress.

Minho’s eyes were glued to your face, watching you squeeze your eyes shut tighter as you moaned out his name like a prayer. He could feel your walls clenching around his fingers, and just from the way your hips were twitching, he knew you were already getting close. So he stopped. Pulling his fingers from you and from inside your pants before bringing them to his lips.

You whined, your head shooting up as you looked at him with slightly tear filled eyes, “No, please! I was so close, baby. Please, don’t stop.”

Minho just let out a low chuckle at you, before he grabbed the waistband on your pants, “I’m just getting started, baby. You don’t want it to be over already, do you?”

Your chest heaved in frustration as you stayed on your back, staring up at him as he pulled your sweats off, along with your panties, leaving you completely bare from the waist down.

If he thought you’d become some pliant little princess without some kind of backtalk, he was sadly mistaken, and didn’t know you as well as you thought he did.

You took a deep breath, trying to let your heart rate come down some more from your stolen orgasm, before you smirked up at him. “You can make me cum more than once, can’t you? You have before.”

He stopped unbuttoning his own pants and stared at you, slowly raising an eyebrow at your words. He nodded slowly a few times, his tongue poking out of his mouth, running it over his lips before he grinned at you, “Should’ve known you say some dumb shit.” He sighed affectionately, sliding his pants off finally, “I hope you know what you’ve just done, kitten. Because now I get to see how many times you can cum before you’re begging me to stop.”

You felt the excitement thrumming within you, mixing with the slight hesitancy as his words, watching him finish stripping down to nothing in front of you.

“Take it off.”

You met his eyes, “What?”

You watched his smirk widen when he realized that you’d been staring at the rest of him. “Your shirt.” He told you again, gesturing to it with just his eyes, “Take it off, or I’ll rip it off you myself.”

You swallowed thickly, reaching for the hem of it as you held his gaze, “Is that a promise?” You asked, your voice low as a playful smile tugged at your lips.

“Test me and find out.” He challenged you, a look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine as you slowly dropped your hands back to the bed beside you.

“Rip it off then.”

He kept your gaze as he knelt back on the bed, settling in between your open legs, and slowly trailing his hands up your legs until he’d reached the tops of your thighs. “You really want to test the boundaries tonight, don’t you?” He asked, continuing to drag his hands up your body.

The shirt bunched up slightly under his hands as his hands met your ribcage, fingers splayed wide along your sides before he took both hands, and grabbed at the collar of the shirt and pulled. The sound of tearing fabric sent a jolt of excitement through your body, and you gasped when he let both sides of the destroyed shirt fall to your sides, leaving your chest bare below him to stare at.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment as his eyes roamed your body, before he caught your eyes again and smirked, “Let’s see how much you can take then, huh?”

[kaleldobrev]

Coming & Going

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Witch!Reader

Summary: You want Dean to stay, but will he?

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Fluff, Vulnerable!Dean, Angst

Authors Note: No cursing for once! Not sure how I managed to do that! | Takes place pre-pilot, during season 5 and the season 5 finale | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

October 2005 — New Orleans, Louisiana

“Do you really have to go?” You asked, your voice sounding of disappointment. You were currently lying on top of Dean, chest to chest with him as your hands cupped his face and his arms were resting on your lower back, wrapping them around your waist slightly.

He gave you a half smile, almost as if he was disappointed himself that he had to leave. “Sorry Sweetheart, I have to,” his tone sounded faintly similar to yours.

You had known Dean barely two weeks, as he only came to New Orleans to work a case in your neck of the woods: The French Quarter to be exact. Your former mentor and friend had gotten corrupted, a certain kind of darkness consumed her; no longer doing witchcraft for good but for evil and out of scorn. At first you didn’t want to think it was her, as you only had the fondest of memories of her, but the people that were dying were her former mentees, your peers — and you were going to be added to that list of the dead if it weren’t for Dean.

“Just sorry uh?” You asked, hoping that he would say more but he simply shrugged. “Don’t you shrug at me Dean Winchester,” you smirked, leaning in and giving him a tiny peck on the lips that he quickly deepened. His hands now cupping the side of your face now.

Breaking away from the kiss he looked at you, smiling and moving some hair that had fallen in front of your face. “You’re beautiful you know what?” He said, and you could feel yourself blushing.

“Careful, it sounds like you’re falling in love with me,” you teased.

“And what if I am?” He asked, his tone coming off more serious sounding than yours had been.

“I’d say you’re crazy,” your tone still coming off slightly teasing in nature.

“To be fair I am a hunter Sweetheart. You need to be a little crazy to be one,” he replied and you honestly couldn’t help but agree with him.

“It’s always the crazy ones who fall for me,” you said, giving him another quick peck before lying down on your back next to him. “Seriously though, think I’ll ever see you again?”

“Careful Sweetheart, it sounds like you might be falling in love with me,” he teased.

“And what if I am?” You asked, turning your head to face him.

He turned to face you, and there was a certain look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. “I’d say you’re lying.”

“And why do you say that?” You weren’t in love with him, not completely anyway, but you did feel something for him; but you weren't quite sure what this feeling was.

“Does it matter? I’ll probably never see you again. Hunters never go to the same town twice.” His voice sounded more confident sounding now, very detached of any emotion that he had previously, it was as if he was afraid of being vulnerable.

“It’s okay to talk about your feelings you know,” you stated.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he retorted, and you rolled your eyes. “What?”

He changed positions, switching to his side propping himself up with his elbows on your mattress as you started to get out of bed. The sounds of your feet were smacking hard on the wood — you were pissed. “Nothing,” you lied, your voice coming out passive aggressive sounding now. “You’re right, no need to talk about things if I’m never going to see you again right?”

“Sweetheart —”

“It’s Y/N,” you grabbed your robe that was hanging on the back of your door and placed it around you as you made your way to your on-suite bathroom to take a shower and wash away any feeling or smells of Dean off of you as quickly as possible. “You can show yourself out right?” You asked walking into the bathroom. You dropped your robe, and it was now a puddle on the floor. You were just out of view enough for Dean to just see the robe, not your naked form.

“Yeah,” he sighed, and you shut the bathroom door.

5 Years Later…

You were currently in your kitchen crushing up herbs using your mortar and pestle; the sweet smells of lavender and honey filling the air. There was a beautiful breeze coming in through the open window; additional smells wafted into the house as well (mainly the smells of Cajun cooking).

You heard a knock at your door and you thought about who it could possibly be at this hour of the night, as all your scheduled clients had came and went for the day, your shop already closed for the day as well. Putting down your pestle you washed your hands quickly and started making your way toward the door. The longer you took the more aggressive and loud the knocking had started to become. “I’m coming I’m coming!” You yelled.

Reaching for the doorknob you couldn’t help but notice a familiar silhouette and the smell of gunpowder. It was two things you never thought you’d ever see or smell again. Opening the door the green eyed semi-stranger looked at you, and he looked completely drained and void of energy. “Never thought I’d see you again,” you said, your voice coming out a lot calmer than you had expects it to sound. “What are you doing here? You have a case?”

“Mind if I come in?” He asked, his voice too sounding calm. His energy was different, it was nervous, scared, confused all things you never expected to feel from him.

“Sure,” you nodded, stepping aside to let him inside.

“So let me get this straight,” you started rubbing your face, trying your best to process the information that Dean had just given you. “You’re the vessel of the Archangel Michael, Sam is the vessel of the Archangel Lucifer and the two of you are supposed to do this battle to the death.”

“More or less,” Dean said, more casually than you had expected him to sound.

“So question,” you began.

“Shoot,” he answered.

“I don’t mean to sound rude Sweetie but…what does this have to do with me?” You asked, and Dean found himself slightly smiling at the nickname; it was something he hadn’t heard you call him in almost five years. “I haven’t seen you or even heard from you in five years and we didn’t necessarily leave things on the best terms.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, sounding slightly frustrated. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re…you’re sorry?” You scoffed, finding his apology hard to believe. “It’s been five years, I feel like the apology ship has sailed.”

“I know you probably want nothing to do with me anymore but,” he got up from the couch that he was sitting in across from you and moved to sit next to you. “You’re the only person I’ve been thinking about for years, the only person who…”

“Phones exist Dean. You could have just picked up the phone and called me,” you stated.

“Would you have picked up the phone if I called?" Touché. "That's what I thought," he looked away from you for a moment, slightly rubbing his face before placing his hands on his knees. "I shouldn't have never come here." He got up quickly, his voice frustrated as he started making his way toward the door.

"So that's it?" You asked, getting up from the couch. His hand was on the doorknob, and he looked at you briefly, some hesitation in his expression.

"What?" He asked; he sounded annoyed.

"You haven't changed in five years Dean. The minute we start talking about feelings or being vulnerable you clam up." You stated, moving closer to him now, you were a few feet away from him.

"You don't think I know that?" His tone angry, angrier than you've ever seen him. "You don't think it pisses me off that I have a hard time talking about my feelings?" He looked down at you, the two of you inches away from each other now.

"Dean," you began. "You weren't joking five years ago were you?"

That's when his expression changed, it softened. "About what?" He knew exactly what you were talking about, how could he possibly forget? It might of been two weeks, but it was one of the best two weeks he had in a real long time.

"Being in love with me," your voice was slightly hesitant, almost as if you were embarrassed to say it, despite knowing deep down that you were right. He simply just looked at you, and you reached out for his hand, taking it in yours. "Dean." The look in his eyes now, the feelings that you were getting from him — this man was still in love with you, even after all these years.

"What if I said yes?" He asked, his tone too was hesitant sounding, but he echoed the same words as he once did all those years ago.

"I'd say what took you so long?" You gave him a soft smile, your hands now fisting his shirt as you looked up at him. He looked down at you, giving you a similar smile in return and cupped your face.

"You know, you're the only witch I've ever liked," he whispered before leaning in and kissing you.

A Few Months Later…

You were sitting in your living room putting together the last of your spell bags that you sold in your shop, the smell of roses wafted gently in the air from the candles you had lit throughout the house; soft jazz playing.

A light knocking came at your door, and you had an overwhelming feeling of anxiety crash into you; the smell of gunpowder now hitting your nose. "Dean..." you whispered; it could only be him, as he was the only one that had smelt that way to you.

Getting up from your spot on the couch you made your way to your front door, that familiar silhouette in the shadows of your porch. A sorrowful smile hit your lips as some dread starting hitting into you — a feeling that worried you. Something bad happened, you thought. Opening the door Dean stood there, not saying a word; he looked drained, like he had lost a battle. But if he was the one standing here that could only mean..."Sam he's..."

"In the pit," Dean said. You weren't entirely sure what that meant but you didn't want to press further as you could feel and see the extreme sense of loss. Without a warning that's when he moved toward you, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace. The embrace was tight, like he was making sure you were real.

You started rubbing his back and gently started to hum, hoping that it would soothe him in some way. "I'm here," you said softly between hums.

"Can I stay here for a while?" He began, his voice sounding as if it was about to break. "I don't...I don't want to hunt anymore not without...I can't do it without him." You didn't need clarification on who Dean was referencing, you knew that he was talking about Sam.

"You can stay here as long as you want," the words fell from your lips with such certainty, without any kind of hesitation.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @mrsjenniferwinchester If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

[signed-sapphire]

Okayyyy rewatched Wish

Here are my notes

Valentino wasn’t as annoying as people say. Sure, he did nothing for the plot and could’ve been removed entirely, but he didn’t make near as many butt jokes as people say he did

The lead-ins for all the songs were great. Certain media (Hazbin, for example) just jump into the songs

Magnifico??? Didn’t touch the pages??? So why would he be corrupted? Why does Amaya know of obsidian oil? Don’t you just skim the pages to release the evil?

Dahlia was amazing

“At the very least break the hold it has on him” Amaya? Didn’t you found this kingdom with thin? Wouldn’t you know?

Also Amaya was very sidelined. Where’s her backstory?

Asha’s magic wand mishaps were… corny at best

Why did they make Dario high all the time? He’s not stupid. I feel like they made him try to be like Fred from Big Hero 6 but failed

“Nine zillyboo, twenty alphabet!” Val, buddy. No.

DAHLIA. MATE. TRUE LOVE’S KISS CAN BRUNG HIM BACK I swear, it feels like the directors were switched

The spider-carriage thing. I feel like that could’ve been a Disney reference instead

Gabo was still my favorite out of the teens. Bazeema was sweet too

Also. Halzeema moments were actually in canon.

Sabino did not act 100 at all.

Crushing wishes did nothing to people except make them sad for .2 seconds

Asha’s drawing, her magic wand, none of that was important to the actual plot

I feel like the horses could’ve been Disney references too

Why did the roof open? That was never explained

Mag’s hair needed to be messier. Evil Magnifico? Crazy hair

How did he hear them from all the way down there

Mag’s really out there beating up a minor

The curse rope green things were not scary at all

Was Simon just in the forest the entire time?

The Magnifico getting sucked inside his staff… I feel that could’ve been a play to Dr. Facilier somehow

The stars raining down were beautiful

Was Star’s nose tap a reference to something?

The people’s talking… idk how I felt about that

WE 👏 SHOULD’VE 👏 SEEN 👏 SAKINA’S 👏 WISH

Another half-assed apology. First Namaari, now you. At least Simon’s was an actual apology. Wait. More of it goes on.

Ok his apology isn’t too bad

How did the staff get all the way down there?

Changed my opinion, Amaya deserved to tell Mag off

Did Mag’s curse break once he was in the mirror? Why did he act sad all of a sudden?

I’ve heard Asha’s movements weren’t finalized until later, but her movements seem pretty fluent

Clumsy and energetic, sure, but besides from the mouth drooping part, she wasn’t that quirky

Which. Could be a bad thing. She didn’t really have much of a personality

I like the Peter Pan building a flying machine idea

Zootopia ref

DARIO. SHUT UP

Why does everyone suddenly understand Star

But off-topic they were so cute

“It” I guess

Why refer to Star as an it

“They” was too woke for the Disney execs? Why, you had a one-second offhand comment about a water cousin who’s nonbinary!

That Cinderella-reference thing… wasn’t slow enough to be a dress transformation. So I’m fine with her not having a different dress. I mean obviously I would’ve loved it but idk

SHOW DON’T TELL, DISNEY

STOP TELLING

“I understand you well enough” I DON’T! HOW ARE THEY TELLING YOU

Some of Valentino’s jokes were funny. Sue me

I liked the Tinkerbell and Mikey Mouse reference at the end

The storybook was a nice callback

The credits should’ve been moving. Also CHOOSE BAYMAX TO REPRESENT BIG HERO 6. WHY HAVE VILLAINS LIKE MALEFICENT THERE

Overall. Not as bad as people are making it out to be. But definitely not worthy to be Disney’s 100

I’d say… 7/10. The backgrounds did look watercolor, but the shading seemed off in places. Especially Sakina. There was major improvement to be done, but with the hell the execs were giving (and the proven creativity of the concept art) I feel this movie is getting too much hate. Critiques and criticism are fine. But don’t blame the writers for getting rid of Starboy. Yes, it could’ve been better. But it’s Disney. And the creators tried their best to pour their love into a movie that they didn’t have a full say in.

[mswyrr]

THG is the only pop culture story I can think of where the heroes (Katniss and Peeta) are disabled* and their happy ending doesn't require that they be "fixed" in order to be happy. IMO, part of why there's such controversy over the ending of the books in particular is that Collins wrote the pov of Katniss as a woman who is content and loves her life and her spouse and kids, but she's still very clearly mentally ill (and arguably somewhere on the spectrum). She has coping strategies and her life is good, but she will never be "normal" and Collins doesn't let the audience think that.

The one part, where she talks about how she handles the darker days, when she's really struggling, never fails to move me:

I’ll tell them that on bad mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I’m afraid it could be taken away. That’s when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I’ve seen someone do. It’s like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years. But there are much worse games to play. (Mockingjay, 332)

It's hard to express how important that is to me. Someone doesn't have to be "normal" to lead a good life. Someone doesn't have to be "normal" to have a life worth living, to give and receive love in good ways.

And, so, when people look at the villain in the prequel and say "he's just crazy, that's why he's evil. He's just a psycho, he's nuts," it's so out of place, it's so dissonant to me -- I think that's absolutely not the kind of story Collins would tell, given her prior handling of disability.

I don't think she's suddenly turned into a Victorian writer where you can know someone is evil because they're disabled because the writer thinks disabled people are warped creatures incapable of doing anything but bringing evil into the world. And the way people assert this, as if it's the pure, wholesome, most politically advanced reading of the prequel, is just - it doesn't compute for me. I don't understand how people get there.

I studied (for years) the treatment of mentally ill people in the mid-20th Century US. It was horrific. US forced sterilization and eugenics laws actually inspired N/azi Germany's forced sterilization, eugenics, and mass murder campaigns against mentally ill and disabled people. Nice, normal people have repeatedly convinced themselves that torturing and killing disabled people is how they will "purify" their society - they've done great evil in the name of rooting out the people evil is supposedly located within biologically.

Is it so hard to believe that people with normal brains do evil? Is it truly so impossible? Even in a story where the Games are about how a lot of people, the majority of whom are neurotypical, can be brought, via media presentation and entertainment techniques, into taking pleasure in their participation in evil? It's so hard to fathom that evil can't simply be located in someone being "psycho"?

Ballad already has Dr Gaul, who is evil and clearly neurodivergent. If Snow is too then the message starts to get kind of worrying? IMO, Coriolanus is more effective as a kind of “everyman” as an 18 year old - an example of the incentive structures (rewards and punishments) and propaganda that motivate “normal” people to go along. Of course, he will later become something far worse than that, someone who takes control of this thing, who uses his intimate knowledge of it and his insight into other “normal” people to make it worse, but that’s not the part of his life we see the most of. The part the book focuses on provides what I consider a powerful depiction of how ordinary people are acculturated into corrupt societies.

It's fiction so there's all kinds of interpretations that the text can support and exploring those is good. It's a stronger text because it has ambiguities and can be interpreted more than one way. But the intensity of some of the rhetoric is an unsettling contrast to what I've thought, for over a decade, Collins' themes and pov are as a writer.

*Shame on the films for removing Peeta's physical disability, though; in the books he lost a leg during their first Games

[triglycercule]

wahhh wahhh triglycercule post more NON jk fashion au related content i whisper as i post this. double post today because i genuinely love jk!dream and also if i dont post the dreamtale twins together i will actually die! you might consider her crazy way of somehow getting into trouble a form of bad luck but i see it as more of a being too pure for the world meeting a world that's not all that great. jk!dream lives up to her name she is a idyllic dream

valedictorian. practically a million extra curriculars. she can sing she can dance she can cook she can do advanced math she can fix a car jk!dream is everything jk!nightmare isn't (a loser). the types of trouble she gets into though aren't manmade (like some guy trying to rob her) but instead are naturally occurring. like one day the dreamtale household washing machine explodes because dream used it and coincidentally it was because it was faulty or something like that. really really crazy coincidences

nightmare is a fighting force in keeping her little sister alive i swear to god. she has to monitor dream a lot and when she can't she gets one of the mtt to do it for her. because if she doesn't there is bound to be something that hurts her. and because jk!nightmare is an absolute fucking loser who's stupid she came up with the genius idea of roleplaying a bigger issue than the one that dream's about to encounter (because then she gets to keep her safe and also feed into her pretend villian persona). like for example with the washing machine thing earlier nightmare would probably distract dream with some sort of evil monologue and then put her own load in the washer before she could. that way it won't FUCKING EXPLODE (comments from currently existing jk fashion au sanses :3)

"ah, my younger kin, dream. quite an enigma she is. on one hand, she's the epitome of perfection. even i can admit that, for she's loved by our school, family, and i. but of course, like all aside from i, she has her faults."

"for example, last week, our bloodline was strolling around the kingdom on the search for a new mirror of truth, as the one in our castle bathhouse had shattered. how did that happen? uh, i might've maybe... i shall maintain secrecy."

"returning to the point, dearest dream had almost lost herself in the shopping district, claiming she had seen a lost puppy in a mirror that she wanted to help. a chivalrous reason indeed, but my, dream can be quite... foolish sometimes. nevertheless, blood is thicker than water, and our bond has never been closer."

they still love eachother in this universe because there was no corruption thing. also nightmare's bullies were just other elementary school kids in this au so it wasn't like fully grown adults vs a 6 year old at least. she's recovered from it (somewhat) and doesn't blame dream. dream's too perfect for anybody to hate her. dream supports nightmare's delusion and nightmare keeps her alive. equivalent exchange (dream has no idea nm is doing this. ok now the mtt‼️

"oh. my. god. dream? like, dream dream? she's literally my idol, i love her so much! i'm the 7th member of her fanclub out of like, the entire school, which is like 300-ish students! she's cute, and pretty, and she gets this a lot, but her voice is literally like an angel's~ i've never heard what a hymn sounds like, but it probably sounds like dream's voice. and no matter how much i search up online, i can never find any dirt on her too! she's got a perfect online footprint! huh? why was i searching dream up? eh... haha... let's move on~"

"dream? she's really cool. there's a reason she's part of the star students at this school, along with swap and ink. nobody really knows what it takes for someone to become a "star student" though. none of the students know, none of the teachers either. apparently it's a title given to a student specifically from the principal? still, dream probably deserves it though. she's good enough to win a nobel prize. one day she's gonna cure cancer or something."

"oh, dream? that girl with the angel halo crown thing? yeah, i know her. she volunteers at the dog park i bring my dog to, the bakery i go to get snacks, the local art museum, the ice cream shop during summers, nightmare's gang, the... car dealership? wait, hold on. how many volunteer opportunities is this girl doing? is she not getting paid? that has to be illegal. or at least some form of monster rights violation..."

both of the jk!au dreamtale twins are soooo silly i love them. the more and more i elaborate on jk fashion au the more i realize that this is just turning into sans aus but anime tropes but its okay i like it its funny. jk fashion au was always meant to be silly and slice of life and fluffy anyways. anyways i love her i'm literally her number one fan. i mean i AM the principal of this school aftersll,,,,,, this really was our,,, jk fahsion au. says dream at the end of the au (there is no end because this au has no lore what am i talking about