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frankhierrot · 13 days ago

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I said I'd make it, and I finally did.

Behold!

Isekai Disney Villains!

(Pretty self-explanatory, hope you enjoy!)

—————

Under the cover of night, in the heart of Toontown, lies the famous House of Mouse, a place that's constantly bustling with entertainment, excitement, and high-end guests! No one ever leaves this place unsatisfied!

"Blast that damned rodent! I swear, one of these days I'll finally take over that club of his!"

... Well, no one but the villains, as usual. Especially not after yet another failed attempt at taking over the House of Mouse.

Hades rolled his eyes at Jafar's rant, running his hand over his head to slick back his flames and pinching the bridge of his nose before his form manifests beside him in a puff of smoke, an arm draped over the sorcerer's shoulder.

"Jaffy, buddy, pal. When are ya gonna give up on taking over the place, huh? It's been years, and honestly, it's been fun at first, but now it feels like a chore, ya know? And constantly bein' beat by the rat and his friends doesn't make it any better."

Hades groaned, leaning his full weight against Jafar, whose face morphed in displeasure at both the Greek God's words and actions.

"He's absolutely right."

Piped up Cruella as she strides over.

"I get that we're villains and all but I've got a reputation to keep up with! Failure is NOT a good look on me, especially when it's worn repeatedly."

She dramatically sighed, taking a drag of smoke and unintentionally (or intentionally) blowing it off in Ursula's direction, causing her to hack and glare at Cruella as she fanned off the smoke.

"You never looked good in the first place..."

Ursula quipped with a scowl, only smirking to herself at the familiar sound of Cruella's offended gasp. Captain Hook merely rolled his eyes before finally speaking up.

“Ahem. Seeing as we’re indefinitely kicked out of the House of Mouse, how about, rather than moping around in our misfortune, we conduct ourselves like true villains… and revel in it?”

Captain Hook suggested with a wicked smirk. The group turned to him with raised brows. Jafar was the first to speak.

“Captain, you can’t seriously be suggesting we throw ourselves a pity party...?”

Hook frowned, clearly offended.

“No, not a pity party,” he snapped.

“A celebration of villainy! A night of unrepentant mischief and mayhem, just like the good old days!”

Ursula brightened at the suggestion, a wicked grin curling her lips.

“Hmm, I could use a little pick-me-up after that embarrassing defeat. It’s been ages since I stretched these legs!” Several of her tentacles flexed in anticipation.

Hades shrugged lazily. “Eh, I’ve got nothin’ better to do tonight, so, why not?”

Jafar sighed, rolling his eyes before adjusting his cape. “Fine. I suppose a little villainy is better than stewing in disgrace.”

Cruella grinned, producing her car keys from her fur coat with a dramatic flourish.

“In that case, we’re taking my car~!”

She sang the words like a declaration of war as she strutted off toward the club’s parking garage.

The group stood in silence for a beat, eyes tracking her as she disappeared around the corner. Concern flickered across their features, each one acutely aware of Cruella's... reputation with vehicles.

“Uhm… should we be concerned?...” Hook asked, voicing what they were all thinking.

Hades gave another shrug, his grin a little too sharp and uncertain.

“Eh, it’ll be fine. I’m sure it’ll be fun. I mean, what’s she gonna do? Get us run over by a truck?”

And that’s exactly what happened a few hours later.

It had all started innocently enough. The villains stopped by some casinos, got drunk, cheated at cards, and caused general mayhem. For once, they were actually getting along.

Until Cruella got a little too excited, barreling down the roads drunk behind the wheel, swerving through who-knows-where. Not that the others were much better. Hades, with his god-like alcohol tolerance, was the only one remotely sober.

Then it happened. Just as they were about to speed through a quiet intersection, a truck appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere.

They had no time to react. The blinding lights. The screech of tires. The sickening impact—

Then… silence.

As quickly as it came, it was over. When the shock wore off, they finally registered the change.

They were no longer on the cemented streets of Toontown, they weren't even in Toontown anymore.

They now stood inside a towering, shadowed castle. It's architecture was gothic and menacing, with intricately designed stained glass windows casting ominous lighting across the room. The floor beneath them was cold stone.

At their feet, a massive summoning circle that pulsed with a crimson light, etched in runes and thrumming with dark energy.

“What the—”

“You mad woman!”

Hook’s scream cut off Hades’ muttered curse. The pirate captain’s hair was disheveled as he turned on Cruella, who sat groaning with a hand to her head, battling a major hangover.

“Your reckless driving nearly got us all killed!” Hook barked, staggering slightly as he pointed his hook at her.

“Oh, like you’re any better,” Cruella shot back, her voice raspy. “It was your bright idea that got us in that mess in the first place!”

As the two launched into a full-blown shouting match, Ursula groaned and pushed herself up from the cold stone floor.

“Ugh… Rather than yell about it, how about we figure out where we are first?” she grumbled, smoothing down her mussed hair with a scowl.

Jafar’s attention, meanwhile, had turned to the glowing summoning circle beneath them. He studied it closely, his eyes narrowing in faint awe.

“What strange sorcery is this…?” he murmured, reaching down to trace one of the lines etched into the stone floor.

The circle’s glow began to fade, dimming to a dull red. And only then did Jafar notice:

The summoning circle was drawn in blood.

「異世界の愚か者どもよ！我らが偉大にして慈悲深き魔王様に召喚されたことを光栄に思い、ひれ伏して忠誠を誓うのだ！」

The villains flinched in surprise as the high pitched voice boomed throughout the chamber, bouncing off stone and shadow like thunder. Their eyes shot up toward the raised dais.

There, atop the steps, stood a short, winged woman with a spear-tipped tail, clad in tight clown-like attire—complete with exaggerated ruffles, a pointed hat, and heavy theatrical makeup. She struck a dramatic pose beside a massive, ornate throne, its occupant cloaked in impenetrable shadow.

「聞こえぬのか！？この恩知らずな召喚獣どもが、跪け！」

The clown woman shrieked again, clearly offended, her painted face twisted in a scowl. The villains exchanged confused glances, none of them understanding a word she had just said.

Before the clown woman could continue, the seated figure raised a hand in a quiet gesture. Immediately, the clown woman obediently fell silent and bowed deeply.

The chamber stilled.

Then, the figure rose slowly, shadows peeling away from their form like mist retreating from dawnlight. A chilling, unnatural quiet fell over the room. The villains, once bickering and confused, now stared up in a kind of breathless paralysis.

Even Hades, the Lord of the Underworld himself, felt his flames dim.

The figure descended the dais, their cloak falling like a shadow across the stone steps. Each stride was precise, deliberate, their armor gleaming darkly under the light. Jagged and ornate, the plate mail clanked softly with each step. Less like metal, and more like the ticking of an ancient clock counting down to something terrible.

With every step they took, the air grew heavier, denser. The darkness in the room didn’t just remain. It watched.

And then the villains saw the figure in full.

The stranger stood clad in blood-red armor, each piece etched with runes that seemed to writhe when stared at too long. Their gauntlets ended in sharp, clawed fingers, and the helm they wore curved back into a crown of demon-like horns, framing a blank faceplate save for those eyes.

Eyes like obsidian that pierced through the soul. Reflecting no light, no warmth.

They didn’t look at the villains so much as through them, peeling back every mask, every hidden thought, every shameful deed.

Something deep and ancient stirred in each of them, a primal recognition, a memory of fear. Jafar took a half-step back without realizing it. Hook’s hand tightened around his blade. Ursula felt pressure like she was sinking. Even Cruella clutched her coat tighter, goosebumps trailing down her arms.

The armored stranger stopped just before them and stood in complete stillness.

And then, they spoke.

「部下の無礼を詫びよう……言語の壁という概念を知らぬのだ。……無論、それを教えなかった我にも責任はある。」

Their voice was low and velvety, but utterly devoid of emotion, neither cold nor warm, but blank in a way that made it worse. Like a voice from something that mimicked humanity but wasn't born of it.

They stepped toward Jafar, who instinctively straightened.

Reaching behind themself, they drew a thin ceremonial blade and sliced across their palm without flinching. Blood pooled and trickled down their deathly pale skin. Then, slowly, they extended their hand and traced a glowing symbol onto Jafar’s forehead with their blood.

Jafar felt a chill run down his spine as the blood-marked symbol touched his skin. The moment the mark was completed, a sharp jolt shot through his mind, flooding his senses with an intense, alien pressure. He staggered, clutching at his head as pain bloomed behind his eyes. Then, just as quickly, it was gone.

"Can you understand me now?"

The armored one’s voice was the same. Smooth, velvet-like, hauntingly monotone, but now Jafar understood them perfectly.

He looked up, and his eyes met theirs: two endless voids that seemed to pull at the core of his being, as if they were peering past his flesh and straight into his soul.

He swallowed hard, unsettled by the closeness of their presence. There was something about them, haunting and ancient, that made his skin crawl. A force not meant for mortal comprehension.

"Ahem— Y-yes, I can..." he managed to say, straightening up.

They nodded without a word, then silently moved down the line, repeating the process with each of the villains. One by one, they winced, gasped, or groaned under the strain of the magic. Even Hades twitched slightly, just slightly.

The moment passed. They then ascended the dais once more, their expression unreadable, their presence no less overwhelming. The air around them seemed heavier now, like a storm pressing down on their chests.

The clown woman stepped forward again, casting a sharp glare down at the group before breaking into a wide, theatrical smile.

"Now that we’re able to speak on equal ground," she began, arms flaring with drama, "allow me to reintroduce you foolish summons to our mighty and benevolent! The Calamity Bringer! Humanity’s Sin! The Demon Lord!"

She fell into a dramatic bow, nearly folding in half with reverence.

"Kneel, and show your loyalty!"

Despite the clown woman’s command, the Demon Lord said nothing. They merely stood at the top of the platform, gazing down at them with eyes like the void itself, cold, ancient, and patient. They were waiting.

Before the others could even think to bow, Hades snapped out of whatever daze he was in and vanished in a puff of smoke, only to reappear beside the Demon Lord, wearing his trademark sleazy grin.

“Hey, name’s Hades. Lord of the Dead. Hi, how ya doin’?”

He spoke smoothly, taking the Demon Lord’s hand and shaking it, vanishing in a puff of smoke just as the clown woman's massive hammer came crashing down on the spot he’d occupied a second earlier.

“How dare you lay your filthy hand on my Lord!”

The clown woman screeched, face twisted with fury at Hades’ audacity. She yanked out a handkerchief and dramatically scrubbed their Lord’s outstretched hand, while the Demon Lord themself remained perfectly unfazed, their gaze still trained on the Greek God, who rematerialized beside Jafar.

“Hades…” they murmured, as if testing the name on their tongue. Then they turned to the rest of the group.

“And the rest of you?...”

There was a moment of silence after the Demon Lord's quiet question, their voice still echoing in the grand, cold hall. The remaining villains shifted uneasily under their gaze, each one feeling the weight of those eyes that seemed to peel them apart and see every blackened inch of their souls.

Captain Hook cleared his throat and stepped forward with a half-bow, adjusting his hat.

“Captain James Hook, feared scourge of the seas and bane of that wretched Pan. A pleasure, my... Lord.”

He forced a charming smile, though his curled mustache twitched with tension.

Ursula rolled her eyes at his theatrics, crawling forward with the swish of her tentacles and placing one hand on her hip.

“Ursula. Mistress of the Deep, Sea Witch, collector of voices and deals.” Her grin widened. “And you, darling, have style.”

Cruella followed, her heels clicking dramatically against the stone as she sashayed forward, flipping her hair with unnecessary flair.

“Cruella de Vil. Fashion icon, heiress, and—” she paused, eyes briefly flicking to the blood-red armor, “appreciator of truly divine couture.”

She gave a slight, almost mocking curtsy, though there was a flicker of fear behind her rouge-lined eyes.

Last came Jafar, who stepped forward once again with the composure of a court sorcerer.

“Jafar. Royal vizier of Agrabah. Sorcerer. Former genie.” He placed a hand over his chest and bowed deeply. “And I must admit, Demon Lord... this summoning is far more refined than anything I’ve seen in my own realm.”

There was a pause as all eyes drifted back to the Demon Lord. Despite the differing tones of their introductions—smarmy, proud, mocking, sly—each villain had unconsciously straightened themselves, adjusted their posture, and addressed the Lord with far more respect than they would ever show one another.

The Demon Lord remained still, absorbing each name, each presence.

Then, finally, they spoke.

"Noted."

A single word. Soft, but final.

Just then, the grand doors slammed open with a resounding boom, drawing every gaze in the throne room.

A Kobold warrior skidded to a halt, panting heavily.

“Who dares interrupt a most important event!?”

The clown woman snapped, glaring down at the intruding warrior from the dais. “I explicitly informed the lot of you fools that the Lord was not to be disturbed!”

The Kobold flinched under her words, ears folding back. “F-forgive me, my liege! Th-there’s an army of humans marching this way!”

A quiet shift occurred.

The Demon Lord’s eyes gleamed, just faintly, but unmistakably.

“An army of humans… Is the Hero among them?” they asked, their voice still cool, but laced with an unmistakable thread of anticipation.

The Kobold trembled, wringing his claws nervously. “A-apologies, my liege. I-I cannot say. I only rushed here the moment I heard. I'm uncertain of the Hero's presence...”

The Demon Lord’s lips twitched into a subtle frown. Their gaze slid toward the clown-woman.

“Pierrot, see to it that our... guests... are informed of their new roles and integrated into our forces...”

As they descended the dais, the air shifted with each step—heavier, denser.

From their wounded palm, the blood still dripping mid-air began to twist, harden, and shape itself until a gleaming, crimson blade formed in their hand.

Their voice was calm. Cold.

“I have an army to destroy.”

Without another word, they strode from the room, the Kobold scampering after them like a nervous shadow.

The villains were left behind in silence, staring at one another, each one thinking the same thing:

"What have we gotten ourselves into?"

—————

Translations:

「異世界の愚か者どもよ！我らが偉大にして慈悲深き魔王様に召喚されたことを光栄に思い、ひれ伏して忠誠を誓うのだ！」

"Issekai no orokamono-domo yo! Warera ga idai ni shite jihibukaki Maō-sama ni shōkan sareta koto o kōei ni omoi, hirefushite chūsei o chikau no da!"

"Fools from another world! You stand in the presence of our great and benevolent Demon Lord! Kneel, and swear your loyalty!"

「聞こえぬのか！？この恩知らずな召喚獣どもが、跪け！」

"Kikoenu no ka!? Kono onshirazu na shōkanjū-domo ga, hizamazuke!"

"Do you not hear me!? You ungrateful summons, kneel!"

「部下の無礼を詫びよう……言語の壁という概念を知らぬのだ。……無論、それを教えなかった我にも責任はある。」

"Buka no burei o wabi yō... gengo no kabe to iu gainen o shiranu no da. ...Muron, sore o oshienakatta ware ni mo sekinin wa aru."

"I apologize for my subordinate's rudeness… They are unfamiliar with the concept of a language barrier. Of course, as their superior, that failure is mine to bear."

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