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hana-no-seiiki · 2 years

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WHY DON’T YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 1)

YANDERE! BATFAM x JINX (ARCANE/LEAGUE)-ESQUE! READER

A lil’ platonic yanderes harley and joker in the mix too hehe

gender neutral reader.

cw/tw: mentally ill reader. reader has schizophrenia. reader has a massive fear of abandonment. harley and joker only feed to that. a r s o n among other crimes. gaslighting. manipulation. implied r*pe (by reader im so sorry you guys) reader is interested in all genders.

summary: meet jinx, gotham’s loudest, most explosive villain. no one knows who they really are, or if jinx is really even their name. but one thing’s for sure — they’ve got a lot of people chasing after them and their reasons aren’t so noble.

status: unedited

Considering Jinx was inspired by Harley Quinn. You’re probably her protégé. Her darling little child with Joker.

YOUR ORIGINS:

She saw you in the aftermath of the explosion. Cold and alone. Fire roaring behind you despite the heavens pouring its heart out, as if it was desperately trying to wash your tears and pain away.

She saw your bruises and a girl a little older than you walk away.

Her heart ached for you. No child deserved to be put in that kind of position, so she stepped in and made herself known.

“ I . . . I only wanted to help . . . Don’t leave me . . . Don’t . . .

You muttered.

Joker, who came here to marvel at the chaos such an explosion would present smiles maniacally.

You. You were the one that did this.

This beautiful wreckage and an equally beautiful child.

You were practically begging to be moulded into a weapon.

You charged at them both as they got closer, and while Harley was ready to defend her man - even hurt you if she has to - they did not expect what came next.

You just, held unto Joker’s right leg.

“ She’s not my sister . . . No . . . if she was she wouldn’t leave me . . . “

You were far too emotional for his liking. But nonetheless. A boon can always be found in a curse. That is, your desire for revenge.

He takes one look at Harley before picking your small body into his arms.

“ Who cares about fools like them, little one? They don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”

His smile never stopped widening, yet even as a kid you never saw it as creepy or unnerving. In fact, it only reminded you of the smiles you used to draw on your nail bombs.

“All we ever truly have is ourselves. “

“So, smile. Don’t let your tears bring you down.”

Moulding you into the perfect weapon was easy.

Having a psychiatrist as a partner did help a lot in your development.

All it took was a few reminders of that fateful day before you began obediently following their rules and instructions.

You were a genius and since Harley kept protesting against it. You weren’t baptized into a vat of acid like the couple was.

Now, Harley and Joker are the worst possible parents you can ask for. So unlike Arcane’s Jinx. You are way way more unhinged. Not to mention, horny and materialistic.

As you grew up, you began to take interest in intentionally hurting people just for the sake of it. Stealing things was just a normal Tuesday for you. Being successful in your endeavors for once, and having bigger stacks of cash felt exhilarating.

The women and men were amazing. Your pseudo parents being who they were, didn’t really care if you were a sexual deviant or a pervert. When your hormones started kicking in they let you do whatever you want. Even giving you some of the people he held hostage as a toy to play with. If you have the capability of getting someone pregnant/or getting pregnant yourself they wouldn’t really care about the baby but you knew them well enough to know they’d use the kid as a way to manipulate you so you were careful in that aspect anyhow.

Harley noticed that when laying with women you’d often call out your sister’s name or call them sis by itself.

Sick. Disgusting. Is what a normal mother would think after finding out such a fact.

But to her you were just growing up so quickly. She had convinced Joker to go ahead and kill your sibling a long time ago behind your back and was growing anxious with the thought of you hating her and ruining this happy family dynamic (she had in her head)!

So she starts bringing you to more heists in disguise. Always keeping a close eye on you so that if any of those stupid heroes and vigilantes get any close, and you too far. She’d know as soon as possible.

It’s safe to say you grew up pretty spoiled, but even then you were hungry for more.

You see, even if they (Harley and Joker) weren’t careful with their “parenting” approach. They were careful with keeping you hidden from the Dark Knight himself.

Not that they were scared you’d get hurt. They could always nurse you back up again. Harley actually enjoyed the times you’d gotten in the cross fire. More time to take care of you in her arms.

They were mostly scared of the Dark Knight stealing you. Afraid that he’ll take you away and turn you into a goody-two-shoes they wouldn’t recognize anymore.

So as much as you were more involved it still felt like they were babying you.

It was your situation with you family all over again

But this time, this time you’ll show them…

You weren’t weak. And it’ll do them good to remember that.

YOUR RIVALRIES:

You made your debut at around the time Tim was still Robin.

You were his very own Joker. A menace deal with. A person that only cared for the thrill that came with hurting and killing masses.

You were terrible. Evil. A demon he had to exorcise from this world.

A demon he fell hopelessly in love with.

He didn’t know how his feelings came to be. It may have been the amount of stress and pressure he was facing coupled with having to deal with your ass every damn day whether directly or indirectly. But he found himself yearning to see you at times. Getting warm when he thought of you. He felt solace knowing that no matter how many times he’d attempt to tear you down completely, you’d still come back to face him once again.

He was so guilty of his feelings. How could he fall for someone as heinous as you? You were the worst of the worst. But somehow that made things so much more better.

You were a taboo. A vice he couldn’t have. The thought of entering such a forbidden relationship excited him just cause it was just that — forbidden , a temptation that should always stay like that.

He somehow manages to gain the self control to stay away from you for a while.

But then came Damian and he was set to replaced. Just like that.

“Wow there Timmy Boy. You look like shit.”

“J-Jinx?! Why are you here? How do you know my name?!” He asked as if he didn’t know every single detail about you himself.

“I have to know my little birdie well don’t I?”

“What kind of archnemesis would Jinx be to their little Robin if they didn’t do a lil’ research?” You spoke in a higher, cutesy voice as if you were your handgun that you’ve affectionally named Zapper.

“Right you are Zapper! I would be a terrible rival. That wouldn’t do for a hero as great as Timmy!”

He thought that all his work was all for naught. All the hours he spent trying to prove himself was gone so fast.

But you reminded him of his place in this world. Of his position as a hero. Your rival.

The warmth in your eyes when you looked at him sealed the deal. There was no coming from this. He was yours as you were his.

“Only I can hurt you like this, toots. Don’t forget that.”

Little did you know that Tim took those words to heart and never let anyone else hurt him (and stay alive).

“Big Bat can replace you but you’ll always be the Robin in my heart !” You winked at him, signaling with one of your manicured fingers for him to smile. Which ended up almost scratching your cheeks.

Tim was confused (incredibly flustered, not to mention har—), why were you so kind to him all of a sudden. He knew you were the playful type but you were usually ruthless when it came to battle. You weren’t one to play with food for too long. For you to excuse him, much less help him in such a state.

Who were you and what did you do to his Jinx?

“OW hEy! I swear if you put that there Pow-Pow— I’ll—“ Tim heard you screeching out of view.

Scratch his doubts. Yep, you were definitely still his Jinx.

The Dark Knight knew who you were from the beginning.

He had his suspicions even before you came into the scene. With your knack to tag everything with neon spray-paints.

At first he thought you were a simple thug that Joker and Harley picked up. But the way they were sheltering you made it seem otherwise.

The regret he felt knowing that you were basically a child in their filthy hands and was now far too gone to save was immense.

If only he knew. You wouldn’t be in this situation.

While he was “dead” he found himself looking into you more. About the death of your biological parents and the way your sister abandoned you to Harley and Joker.

He felt pity for your childhood and a sense of kinship. Sure the incident may have been your fault but you were a child. How could you have known your actions would have such terrifying consequences.

If only you knew him when you were younger.

If only.

He was sure you’d be one of the greatest vigilantes alive.

“I knew you were alive.”

You looked down at Batman, staring while both of you were being doused by the rain. Thunder accompanying the sound of conversation.

He takes a defensive stance.

“I’m not going to fight ya, that’s Joker’s thing. And I know he’ll grill my ass if I stole his archnemesis.”

“What a loser!”

“Hey! He took us in. We should be more grateful!”

Bruce looked at you as you talked with a new, rather large, shark shaped gun. He had memorized the names of all your “companions” by now and was oddly excited and slightly unnerved by the new one.

“So, why’d you leave? Was it . . . was it on purpose?”

“No.”

“Then come back.”

He almost dropped all his plans with the way you told him that.

“Tim needs you . . . and your other sons too or whatever.”

“Come with me.”

“You crazy, old bat? Why would I—“

“I know what it feels like to have no family. Harley doesn’t love you. Joker doesn’t love anyone.”

“Do you?”

“I do.”

“Well tough luck man. I don’t give a shit about love.”

You dropped down to his level. A thud resounds, loud enough to cut through the rainfall and thunder.

“Cause love never gave a shit about me.”

“We’ll have to refuse. Just get back to your sons, hero!”

“I’m sorry, perhaps I didn’t make it clear enough—

— I don’t think you have a choice in this matter, [Y/N].”

Act 2 with Jason, Dick and Damian coming soon! If you’d like to be tagged just reply to this post ^^

You like my writing? Follow my blog and maybe take a look at the fic linked below!

WHAT’S UP DANGER : Yandere Batfam x Miles Morales! Reader

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writingforatwistedworld · 1 year

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Self-aware isekai'd househusbands, what a great idea that was. The Vil piece was so fun that I wasn't more!

Can you write Riddle as an isekai'd househusband? Thank you!

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, blood, murder, death, violence, stalking, unhealthy relationship, obsession

Your totally normal isekaid househusband

Imagine, you are the male equivalent of a magical girl in villain version who got isekaid into the normal world

One would think that world domination or something to that would follow, right?

Well no.... said magical girl is right now starting holes into a cookbook

And he kinda likes it- no, he loves to study the culinary arts

Not just for anyone of course

Riddle has become a little helping hand in your home after you found him one day drenched to the bone outside of your little safe haven

But at this point the two of you might be married with you being the breadwinner

In the morning he wakes you up, makes you breakfast, hands you your lunch when you are heading out, cleans the house, spends his time doing... things, greets you when you return gives you food and does more things that would stereotypically be considered as stay-at-home-partner activities

How calm... how sweet... how-Riddle, what are you doing?

Riddle wakes up one hour before you usually do. So what does he do in that hour?

So, half an hour before you wake up he prepares breakfast but the thirty minutes before...

Well he is just standing there, staring at your sleeping figure

Ok. Creepy but at least the time from breakfast till him being done with chores is normal

So uh... remember those “things” I mentioned earlier? Well...

There are those noisy neighbors everyone has, right?

So uh... please don't mention them annoying you in any way. Please don't. Just don't. Oh why? Hehe... don't think too much about what I just said, yes?

When you return Riddle emerges from the kitchen, asking you if everything is alright

Following to that he scolds you for staying out too late

That crazy maniac is running freely out there! All those poor souls lost to them

Your neighborhood might have a... uh... “spontaneous death through decapitation” problem

The crime scenes are clean or rather they are until you enter the room in which “that” happened and you find a surprisingly clean you-know-what sitting there in a chair with their you-know-what laying in their lap, a white rose tucked somewhere in that meat pile as well

Of course Riddle knows that his actions aren't good in any way but when you good him that the old creepy neighbor next door had been scaring you for so long he saw red and...

Let's just say that magic makes it incredibly easy to leave a crime scene without any trace

Ah yes, roses! Let's talk about something easier on the stomach!

Riddle plants of course roses. White ones

Sometimes you even get a few of them, them now being red

You once asked why the roses are red considering that he always plants white ones which he answered with him painting them red just for you

Ah yes, you totally forgot that little thing about his dorm. And isn't it cute? Such a pretty red as well... although the paint is a bit fragile and falls off in flakes if you aren't careful

His pastries are a bit dangerous to eat, he adds sometimes odd things because someone wrote a tip in a baking forum as a joke, but his lunches are pretty good

When you try to help him though he is strictly against it. Especially when it's about doing the laundry

Meh. Probably nothing. Although... you have found splatters of that red paint once or twice on a piece of clothing of his before... probably go it on there the last time he painted the roses red

Though, you do wonder... where is that cleaver that had been missing from the kitchen?

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haunted4kent · 17 days

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" blood struck. " t. todoroki

✧˚ · . 𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀 ; wield the sword, seek vengeance, and watch it turn to ash beneath his blade.

word count ; 2.5k

a/n ; i havent written like this in a HOT minute, but i hope you enjoy <33 dis so random and i just want to be evil and give a super sloppy villain creation 4 dabs with sword like action lol

A villain killer. Instead of being quote “heroic”, taking down a common thug for robberies and sending them off to jail to rot. You were infamous for killing villains, the evilest people on the heights of wanted lists. You believed their evil deeds were only atoneable by death.

The death of your best friend made you this way, twisted the word “hero”.

Being a hero was putting an end to the evil, right? So why attempt to salvage the unsalvageable?

How could a hero who believed in the “ideal” heroic ways been what he was? Be so thirsty to surpass that in the process, have been the reason your best friend was engulfed by his power?

You knew you were a hero, you were the ideal hero. You removed the gunk and nasty build-up that was sitting for long enough. You were cleaning the filth bit by bit.

Your identity has become one of Japan's largest mysteries.

“WHO IS KILLING VILLAINS?”

“WHICH HERO WILL BE ABLE TO TAKE DOWN THIS DISHONORABLE HUMAN?!”

Even the public wanted you dead, can't they see that they aren't looking into the details enough? They want you dead for killing the evil and don't see how they are protesting against the salvation of Japan. It was a hero that made you “evil.”

Dishonorable?

You have had to mourn since you were 13 years old. Mourn a hero’s wrongdoing, Endeavor’s wrongdoing.

The League of Villains, although you didn't support the “prestigious” UA High. The attempt to harm children was enough for you to take action, and with enough investigation, you found a pinpoint location.

8 elite villains and you promised yourself you'd rid the world of. You wanted them to fear the sight of your eyes, you didn't care if they wanted to rid All Might, you wanted to be an issue that lingered in the back of their minds.

“WHAT IF THEY COME FOR US.”

The night was foggy, and you stood crouched atop the first tower of the large mansion-like residence. Smoke floods out of the chimney fogging the glow the moon provided, and the little light from down below.

It reminded you of the small fires he’d light at night to keep you warm. So proud that that had become an easy task. So glad that you were proud of even that,

The only villains you considered a real threat were the silver-haired man and the samurai. Which could go against your power, but with your lifelong experience, you saw no real problem.

5 of the core group had stepped outside in the courtyard of the home, which was listed as abandoned and vacant online. There was no sight of the leader or the man who wielded a katana. It was time to make a move.

You quickly scaled down the brick tower, your sword shrieking against the cobblestone.

Quickly a man began to panic, babbling on to himself like a maniac. Pathetic. Their attacks as a whole aren't impressive, considering the lack of response they have, or coordination.

Easily taken down and put unconscious with a blunt strike to the head. However, you came across some trouble with clustering and having to use kicks or elbows to get them from surrounding you.

As they lay unconscious, the part that you found easy came. To stomp off the filth with the sharp end of your wielded weapon.

In the silence, cries muffled from what felt like afar, and you take in that the man who began to panic wasn't lying before you. The cries triggered your brain, nobody had ever gotten away, let alone run far enough to cry.

Your mind plays the day you watched your young tears hit the black ash on the ground beneath you. When everyone tried to find him. You were scared and wanted to run away too.

Sekoto Peak was a place of anguish.

Were you feeling sentimental because you had to worry about another samurai? Did it remind you of him?

The harrowing clank of your boot hitting the cobble echoed in your ears, his arms covering the area of his torn mask before he released to look up at you. You felt different, the tears in his eyes, the true fear of death.

Is this how Touya felt when he panicked to attempt to extinguish his body?

You swing the blunt end of your sword into his temple, watching the man lightly bleed from the head. You stand still, pulling your hood from your head.

“Heh.”

A long rasp shatters the silence, and the swipe of your left blade strikes through the air.

You can't lose that katana.

A cold point pushes into your jugular, and panic surges through your blood. Your sword lifts instinctively and stops abruptly at the sight before you. Those eyes, they run you cold. Those eyes, you remember them.

“Dad’s always with Shoto. I want him to come to Sekoto to see how my flames have improved. He set this fire under me and now that he can't put it out he's upset? He’s being cruel to me, he always has been. Thank you so much for coming up with me Y/n, I just don't know how to feel.”

Touya Todoroki stands before you in the flesh.

"You carry my blade?" He tilts his head at you, a boyish grin sitting plastered upon his skin. You drown in the depth of his eyes, like an ocean that has swept you up in an instant.

You feel the strain of your own eyes, if you blink, could he disappear from before you? Your heart twists at the sight of him, charred. You struggle to choke out the name. "Touya."

“Nuh, not anymore.” The grin that spreads across him is chilling, a splatter of blood sitting upon your face. He’s killed you without pushing the sword into your throat.

“I'm surprised you knew. Not even my damned brother did.” His voice is conflicting with your mind, it is trying to piece together the Touya you knew 11 years ago with the one that stands before you.

"I know, pretty disgusting."

He smiles, the cape that drapes your back is set ablaze and in a quick movement you rip it from your back, watching the blue-soaked cloak be consumed by his flame. In the process, he has slit the belt on your waist with one slick slash.

“What are you doing." It stings, stop it. No. Your tears have only been shed at the hands of Touya, his death. His flames became your tears the day he died, and they burn.

“You don't think I looked into you the moment I woke up? There was nothing, nothing!” You can only kneel before him in the state you're in. The reason you kill is because of him, and he has been alive. "You moved away, you weren't online, you had no fucking record!" He was acting like a maniac, crazed like you've never seen.

He continues on, even swinging his blade around carelessly. “Until I saw you sitting in Sekoto, visiting it like I was stuck beneath the ground and needed saving. I knew you were the only person who remembered “Touya Todoroki.”, and I had to wipe that name from the earth. Like shit stuck to the bottom of my shoe.”

Your vocal cords are engulfed by the sting of tears and he steps forward, letting his sword shriek by his side.

The cold metal settles at the bottom of your chin.

You can't rid of the expression on your face and he's thrilled. “Then after not seeing you for years, a woman starts killing villains out of the blue. It was a goddamn mystery.”

The focus you had on the world has become impaired, you can hear your heartbeat in your chest. He doesn't care about you anymore, does he? Why do you want to feel his heartbeat, tear his heart from his chest, make sure he is real?

“Those eyes, you should know I'd know those eyes anywhere. All I needed was one glance, and I knew your every motive. They glew in vengeance, like my power carried on in them. You thought I was weak too, and you tried to cover up your evil deeds with the excuse that my death was my father's fault!” He cackled.

“That’s- that's not it Touya.” You've been lighten ablaze, and your tears uncontrollably fall and stain the cobble.

“Is that it? Anger, anger that I caused has fueled this monster before me?” A low chuckle falls from his lips, one that is filled with disappointment compared to the hysteric hiccups of laughter he was just sputtering out.

“Stop. Enough- I’ve had enough.”

His sword tilts your chin back up. “Now you've had enough? After you've mourned it's become enough!?” His voice rises, and your fists clench.

Your teeth grind together like bone, bone that can be snapped with a hit that lands hard enough. His bone will crumble like ash.

“Get up and stop me from killing you Y/n.”

Your bones crack wrapping the blade of the sword, and you swing it into his blade, knocking it from beneath your chin.

“You should never hold the sword by its blade.” His swing sparks with your sword, and you freeze, before rolling to get to your feet. You hate the fucking cold. Why are you so cold?

“Just move, goddammit move!” You thought.

You knew you were better than this, you just needed to move your arms.

Another swing was speeding towards you, and your sword lifted to defend it. The moment the two swords collided, you felt you were present again.

“You have to recognize your own body, if you don't, it'll never have time to know what your opponent is going to do next. You’ll be too busy figuring yourself out.”

His words of the past conflicted with your every move. You automatically swing your blade downward, but he catches it. “I taught you that move you idiot!” You continue to struggle to land a hit, you have a specialty in mobility, but his work with a sword is unmatched. Until he leaves his chest open, you shove your forearm into his chest, and in his fall his blade slices into your arm.

You bleed over the cobblestone, and he is already getting up off his knees. Stumbling back your blood dripping blends with the scene of your tears when you stood in the ash of Sekoto.

“I was asleep for 3 years and you still haven't improved a bit! All that time, and you've still disappointed me. What potential will you reach if you can't land a blow!” His taunts pushed you further.

Rip his heart from his chest, you need to know he's real.

Your body pushes itself forward, leaping up. His sword tries to fly up into your leg, but your boot kicks it, landing your knee straight into the crevice of his neck.

You roll off after he hits the ground, and you're cold again when you see his cheek is falling apart. His eyes are filled with blood.

“You're a lunatic. Who are you!” You plead, why does he want to hurt you? The adrenaline is dying down and you're beginning to feel the depth of your injury.

“Don’t pity me. You've always had that shitty savior complex. That's why you became what you became right? To prove that people that my father saved are supposed to be killed because he didn't even want to save me?” His hand twitches out in blue flames, and your body throws itself away before the burst flies up to where you were kneeling.

“You excelled! If anything, when he knew I couldn't be a hero he thought to even offer you training!” His charred laughs came breathless as he picked himself back up, through the smoke, the side of his face was streaked with blood. He drops the blade, letting it clank.

Your breath breaks and your voice cracks, a mixture of tears and screeched shouts come from your throat.

“Why would you ever want to make that sick man proud Touya?! He created children to surpass a hero he himself couldn't! Why would you ever want to make that proud!”

“You don't get it!” He shouts. “He lit that goddamn fire beneath me!” He’s slipping, struggling to lift his body as his flames grow stronger around his body.

“Maybe we can be heroes together! We can save people and be the best. That's all I've ever wanted, and I want you by my side.”

“If you can't even save yourself! How the hell are you going to save others!” He chokes out. The courtyard is filled with the glow of his flames, he's trying to pick himself up, but his body is ready to embrace death. He finally crawls completely defenseless towards you, dropping his heat-stricken body in your arms, his head rests upon you.

A large blast fields your vision, and you let it engulf you.

You were always consumed by Touya Todoroki’s flame.

“The katana is a blade to be held only by those with potential.”

His hair was so white, his arm burned just at the skin, his tummy with peeling skin. That's the Touya you remember, and the one you'll die remembering.

“Y/n.” You felt empty, he had taken off the charred mask from your face. The pressure on your arm was uncomfortable, but it was wrapped well, it didn't sting. His fingers run warm against your forearm that lays off the couch.

You're constantly homesick, and it's been that way since he died. Since that boy died, your blood has run cold, and you have become who you hated the most. You became a killer. You became his killer by ideal, kill those who are not worthy enough for you.

“Open your eyes.” It came more sternly than your name, and when you did, he was sitting in front of the couch you had been lying on.

At 20, you gave up looking. You had to believe that Touya was dead. He had been turned to ash and he was no phoenix that would rise from the ashes. You picked up your sword again and went to do what you believed in, a belief his flame created. What that death turned you into. At 21, you were already widespread.

“I'm sorry Touya.” The tears were already warm down your face, and the dried blood on his soaked the new streaks that fell.

You no longer had purpose to wield a sword, or to consider yourself a samurai when he was around. You were just you, and he was him.

He lifts from the floor, his blood-ridden face being the first thing you notice before it's his eyes, So struck. You push yourself up and his hand wraps around your torso.

"Damn you, I waited so long."

You were no longer a hero. You sought revenge alongside him, and he did rise from the ashes, he rose as an inferno.

#✧˚ · . writing #i love characters willed by death #he was just a baby vro.#mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #dabi todoroki #touya todoroki #touya x reader #dabi x reader

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rayroseu · 11 months

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Azul was freaking SCARY during this part Ngl lmAO imagine blasting this guy with your most powerful spell and he starts laughing like a maniac with hollow eyes and SHOTS you unexpectedly with an even more POWERFUL spell😂😂😂

I would love more insane Azul ✨✨✨✨ being businessman prim doesnt suit him as much as this lol

Also I FELT this part lol its really nice seeing Rollo get beaten up after his nonsense 💥💥👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻 Go get him board game club‼️‼️

I love the buildup towards this part. Malleus was written as if he was intimated by Rollo during the fight, but then his mask of being "weak" falls off and its actually revealed that he is not intimidated by Rollo at all, in fact the way this scene's vibes gives off??? He was looking down at him, with his 'plans' and his stupid delusion about antagonizing him.

I love when TWST reminds us that Malleus is a king. ✨✨

He hides off this personality that he truly believes he's too superior than anything, that he's undefeatable.

Not gonna lie y'all, I think Malleus won't be defeated by the flowers, he emphasized this from the start, that he's fighting Rollo because the flowers will be problematic for Briar Valley, but not him yk.

Plus, this is Meleanor's kid😂 Mother didn't birth a weak dragon‼️

I think this part also mirrors in Book 7 where the Silver Owls was convinced they caught Meleanor but she just laughed at them and declared that they'll decimate every human in her sight for being insulting as to think they can ravage her land and defeat her lol.

Also the fact that Henry basically narrates her as if she's the villain of humanity by calling her a witch... It parallels to Rollo seeing Malleus (even though he didn't do anything) as the root of all evil yk.

Also possible theory for the Kind Bellringer and the Just Judge??? We all know that their story is written more peaceful here than the Disney movie.

But one thing that's strange is that No one knows what the Bellringer was fighting for even if he's considered a hero of Fleur City-- at the same time, we don't know how Rollo even got the flowers (aside from studying ancient flora)--- Basically, Fleur City lore has many plotholes and no one knows what it is and why is that-- Its like Briar Valley history...

We know the crimson flowers are a reference to the scene where Quasimodo released lava around the Notre Dame to prevent Frollo from entering....

What if in Fleur City as well,,,, Quasimodo (as the Kind Bellringer here) rebelled as well against the Just Judge (Frollo) as well?? But the Just Judge is instead credited as "the saviour of Fleur City" because the evidence of the Bellringer acrually being the saviour is burned up or smth, thats why Fleur City's history has many gaps in them...

Also the Just Judge being the actual villain in the history but remembered as a hero now because of misinformation.... It matches Rollo's punishment that he'll forever be complimented by the actions he didn't do, and its up to his guilt whether he can stand living as a fraud who actually harmed the same people thats highly regarding him rn.

LMFAO GRIM????? DONT BULLY GRANPA TREIN??? YOU SILLY 😭😭😭😭 I wanna hug Grim he's so cute in this event.... My unruly son 💖💓💖💓🥹

The gargoyles are so cool🥹🥹🥹💖💓💖 How does Malleus differentiate them... 💥

Also this makes me wonder.... Why Briar Valley doesn't have talking gargoyles??? Isn't Briar Valley a magical nation??? Talking non living things should be a norm for them lol

but Malleus feels like its his first time ever with a talking gargoyle lol

ISNWIHBDHIWHID HE REFERRED TO HIMSELF AS "MAL" .... CAN YOU BE MORE CUTER THAN YOU ALREADY ARE 😭😭✨✨🫶🏻✨🫶🏻💓💖💖💖💖

he really loves nicknames rather than "titles" because people who gives him nicknames isnt shackled by the expected decorum of meeting him-- therefore these people are not acting and they are sincere with talking with him, it helps with the connection and feeling like he belongs 🥹🥹💞💞💞

I COULDN'T RESIST COMPLIMENTING GRIM AAGHHH MY CUTE AND ADORABLE AND HANDSOME SON YOU ARE MOST PRECIOUS THE ADORABLE HERO OF FLOWER CITY 💓💞💖💓💞💖

I love how Grim ran the moment he heard that someone is doing a celebratory toss lol The goofy running sfx lol 😂😂

I love how teasing Silver and Sebek was here lol Threatening to toss Idia in the air omg.. He's traumatized already from walking the stairs lol The way Sebek and Silver can be unexpectedly playful... it feels so... "Lilia taught this to them didnt he..." 😂😂😂

WAAAAHHH YUU CENTER ATTENTION YAY YAY 💖💓💞💖💞💖💓 i love how he used his sultry smile here though lol .... He knows we waiting for his undivided attention yiiiee✨✨✨💞💞💞

Also i hate this translation part.... In the twst JP Malleus dialogue shows the specific lyrics of "Make a Wish" hes singing rn but in TWST EN IT DOWNGRADED TO JUST " *SINGING* "l

also on the twistune, twst JP shows the lyrics but on twst en, theres none.... I don't get why they arent translating it... This game is for people who dont understand Japanese?? So its natural youre going to translate everything for us non japanese to yk... Atleast understand without googling for translations???

YEAAA PHOTOGRAPHER YUU HERE THEY SHINE 📸📸📸📸📸😎😎😎😎 be proud your mages still have magic crowley lmfao 💥💥💥

Also i hit the image limit now... But i love the Cinderella reference from Trein's dialogue ✨✨✨ that Yuu taking pictures of the ball can make the other uninvited students more jealous lol

Its a reference to how Lady Tremaine plotted against Cinderella just for her to never attend the ball... ✨

I like this event ngl, but I feel like Rollo's story was kind of rushed ngll jdnfiind we never found out why he's so angry at Malleus, how did he even come to the conclusion that killing Malleus is killing magic, bruh...🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️ Malleus is not even the top 1 strongest mage??? 😂😂

Also i feel like this event was made for Idia instead, it felt like Idia was the main character imo...

I just feel like the event couldve given their dynamic more light because its so intriguing that they went to similar trauma but have different outcomes...

In a way Rollo is what Idia wouldve become if he continued tormenting himself for Ortho's death alone...

He said to Rollo that "is removing magic what your brother wouldve wish?" I think thats very telling that even if its tragic that Robot Ortho's creation was fuelled by Idia's grief and defiance that Ortho is forever gone, it was suitable for Idia's pain to remind himself that Ortho wouldve wished he goes on... as is very telling of Book 6's ending about Ortho's refusal on Idia's suicide by going with him on the Underworld...

also because I think Rollo would need some person like Idia whos blunt for regular reality checks just so he wouldn't blinded by his delusion again and ransack the world 😭😭

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heartthrobin · 1 year

Text

blue light (2)

miguel o’ hara x villain!reader

wc: 4.9k

warnings: fem!reader, reader can manipulate electricity, can teleport via lightning, age-gap (reader is early 20's), miguel is (slightly less) emotionally constipated, angst, swearing, jealous miguel, stalkerish behaviour, reader is a bit of a meanie (she's a villain after all), drinking, classic college kid shenanigans, implied one night stand, reader is highkey stubborn (she’s been hurt let’s not judge), happy ending this time i promise

an: next part to yellow light! i hate leaving stories with an unhappy ending so i had to work this out :) also the taglist was formed from this post before anyone asks again. remember to repost to support your fav writers !!

summary: someone's following you. you can feel it. like tiny spiders crawling over your shoulder when you sit too still.

part one

jumping between dimensions is exhausting work.

fuck what any spider-person had to say, they have fancy little watches that let them drift between earths as they pleased. they should try falling through a super collider every once in a while, not to even mention the glitching. like every molecule in your body is being ripped apart and reattached with wet wood glue.

and all that pain for a man. the notion makes you sick.

fuck Miguel too. fuck him especially.

you'd blasted him through the concrete face of a building in spite. the thought made you chuckle. he deserved it, that bastard.

when you returned from earth-8901, you slept over most of the next few days.

only closer to the end of the week had you dragged yourself from the depths of your bed to class. assignments glared at you from under the hood of your shut laptop and the professor's voice drifted over your head where it was hunched down over the scribbled outline of a scheme to cut power across the city.

you sketch a tiny little you in the corner, if you were a better illustrator someone may have been able to make out the tiny figure laughing maniacally at the panic she's induced.

scheming is fun. it lets you forget for the red and blue shadow that haunts your mind, if only for a few minutes at a time.

there's a coffee shop on the route back to your apartment and inter-dimensional travel has you jet-lagged enough to push it's doors open. a chime fills the space.

you stop most days just for a coffee, if you've made a recent hit at a bank on the other side of town you'll spoil yourself to a sandwich or a smoothie. but as it turns out, the money on earth-8901 is all purple bills. useless memorabilia hogging space on your study desk.

behind the counter is a fresh face. a handsome face.

he smiles at you and it's dazzling enough to prompt you into returning it. there's a name-tag against his black work shirt, Tobey, and he has dreads pulled up into a bunch at the top of his head.

you lean over the counter more than you would normally and his eyes follow your figure where it's divided by the countertop.

"hm. first week?" you prompt.

"indeed."

"how's it going?"

his eyes wash down your body again before returning to your gaze. "well. very well."

when you leave the shop there's a number written on the side of your cup with smudged black marker and a "give me a call -Tobey :)"

the ink stains the pads of your fingers. you consider the number the whole walk home.

by the time you reach your door, you've decided that you'll be calling him. that it's a good idea to start engaging with men in your dimension, as opposed to six foot nine assholes with sturdy shoulders ... and swirling brown eyes ... and a soft temperament despite how desperately he tries to hide it--

you slam your door, leaving that thread of thought on your welcome mat.

New York has already dimmed to a fuzzy black, perforated by city lights of every colour when you perch yourself on the edge of your bed. the city hums and the tune drifts in through your open window.

your cup from earlier is empty where you hold it up and dial the number written against it.

it rings twice before a static voice carries over the line. "hello?"

"Tobey?"

"speaking."

you tuck your knee up against the bed. in the low light, your glow emanates into the space. "i just called to say that i think you accidentally wrote your number on the side of my cup."

he chuckles. it's hard to make out, but then again most calls are tough when you're holding the phone with the same touch that could cut power to the pentagon.

"not a mistake, sweet-cheeks."

your nose crinkles. you hope the nickname isn't gonna stick.

but you press on, "that so? well, pray tell. why am i phoning you?"

"you're phoning so we can talk about when i'm taking you out."

"usually that discussion is preceded by actually asking me if i want to go out with you."

"i'm sure that--"

there's a crunch beyond the window.

the unmistakable crumble of concrete, accompanying dust cascading to settle on your sill in a tiny pile.

you squint, your apartment is on the eleventh floor. there's no way anyone could--

the phone falls, clattering to land across the dial.

spider-man.

your palms warm, you feel the surge of power rising where it's settled most days just beneath your skin. fingertips prickling with electricity, desperate to come reaching out - the bedside lamp dims as you brighten. your light casts shadows across the room.

"uhm, hello?" the abandoned phone still hums.

you creep towards the ledge before leaping at it, knees connecting with the sill. your eyes chase around the view beyond the window.

the night is still. there's no sign of movement beyond the people down in the street.

just above your window, the source of the noise, there's a gash in the brick. four gashes, to be exact. like an animal had ripped into the stone, like ... like claws.

your heart sinks into your stomach. the night is still unmoving.

it's thursday afternoon and the sidewalk is busy. you think that if one more person knocks into your side you're gonna zap them across the street.

Tobey hasn't showed up yet.

"how's thursday? some lunch, twelve o' clock?"

it's already half-past. you think hard about zapping him too, the face he'll make when he's swallowing scalding hot mouthfuls of electricity.

as if drawn from your thoughts, Tobey's figure is bumping people down the walkway. he's jogging, panting between an apology as he nears.

"i-i'm so sorry," he's hunched over, hands on knees. "my car was totalled ... i had to call the cops and sort out a bunch of stuff--"

"you got into an accident?" your voice is more curious than concerned.

he shakes his head. "no, an animal. last night an animal or something attacked my car, it's completely wrecked."

you squint at him. "an animal? we live in Manhattan."

Tobey straightened out. "yeah, go figure. giant claw marks and everything, the car was on it's head when i found--"

"claw marks?" your interest peaked.

the sound at your window.

"yeah. the thing must have been huge, it flipped my car." he nods. "and the security cameras were malfunctioning over the time that it happened so i can't know for sure ..."

there's only one creature you know personally, the kind that lurks on New York rooftops, that can inflict that kind of damage.

you don't allow yourself to think any more on it. Miguel hasn't come to your dimension before, he's not starting now.

and here to do what? wreck Tobey from the coffee shop's car?

the thought settles the bubbling in your core.

"well. are we still getting lunch?"

nearly a week passes and the thought of Miguel haunts you no more than it usually does - which is generally in the space between each thought - but you've squashed the notion that he may be around.

"it's not good to jump too often between dimensions."

he'd said that once.

you bury yourself under the safe cover of assignments and tests. early classes and afternoons at library desks.

of course, there's always time for hobbies. cultivating a healthy school-social balance is reliant on a well-rounded lifestyle.

there's two security passed out in the corner. you would duct-tape them but you struck them with enough power to light a carnival for a week. they'd be out for a while.

you'd think the university student finance office would be unoccupied at almost nine at night. but seven or eight people huddle in the corner of the room, stragglers that had remained to do work after hours.

they press against each other in fear. you delight in it.

"it's not your guys' fault," you speak to the room. the lights flicker overhead. "i get it, it's the big corporations! but, that still affects the lives of students who can barely afford to pay for registration anymore--"

the computer system fizzles and sparks beneath your hand. monitors go black across the office, the remains of student financial documents dissolved into digital dust.

you'd deny the notion that you were doing all this for the "greater good". your own student fees were climbing, and just while you were here, there were a couple friends who could do without it too.

blue and red lights bounce off the side of your profile. sirens echo down the street.

"right." you dust your hands and look around. you're chuffed when you curtsy at them, ends of your short dress pinched between your fingertips. "that should be me done then. you all have a good night."

the buildings doors slide open where you push them. you're almost blinded by the cop car headlights.

they’d formed a lineup behind open car doors, guns aimed up at you.

“Statica!” a gruff voice called from the depths of the lights. “get on the ground and put your hands behind your head! you’re surrounded!”

you roll your shoulders, pretending to consider their offer. eventually you shook your head, “i don’t think so, sheriff. i’ve got class tomorrow, can’t be out too late.”

a crack of lightning rains from the sky and a nearby police car explodes, lifting a few feet off the ground and bursting into flames.

“well, i’ll be off.”

your hand raises to call down another bolt, one that would send you back to the sidewalk outside your apartment, when the officer calls again.

“drop your weapon!”

“my weapon?” you chuckle lowly, “you mean my hand—“

you’re cut short by a bang and a flash at the end of a standard police pistol.

several things happen at once:

a force hits you with enough power to force all your breath clean out your lungs. your body is thrown back against the sidewalk and your midriff grows warm. your hand finds your stomach, it's sticky there.

on the wall behind where you once stood, there's a gaping hole where the bullet that was supposed to be yours has dug a wide welt into the grey plaster.

"you missed!" a voice call somewhere beyond the flashing lights.

another shoot rings out, but you're gone in a shower of sparks before the bullet has chance to even graze your cheek.

you're back on the street outside your apartment building. the streetlamp buzzes above you.

your lungs are burning, grappling desperately for oxygen. your eyes find your stomach again:

where there should be blood and a bullet sized hole, instead is a tangled mess of white web. it's solidifying slowly over your yellow get-up.

"it ... there's no ways." you whisper, the only person out in the late night street.

your spider-man isn't going around pushing you out the way of police fire. he's probably off kissing babies and saving cats from trees.

no. this was someone else, and there's only one person-- but why would he be here?

your eyes find the line of rooftops as if Miguel's figure would crescent over your street. it doesn't. somewhere beyond them, a cop car whoops.

webbing is drying over your hand.

"fucking asshole."

you're being watched, all through the next day. all the way to friday, you can feel it. like tiny spiders crawling over your shoulder when you sit too still.

the heat of red eyes, they're never there when you look for them.

in the walks between classes, the breaks between sprawled over campus benches in the summer sun flittering out conversation riddled with classic complaints. i can't believe that fucking test, that twenty mark question at the end? is she crazy?

you've considered calling out. maybe he'd appear from the shadows, but you'd squashed the notion quickly. he didn't deserve your acknowledgement.

he's probably right chuffed with himself, saving you when you didn't need his interference. no. if he wants to lurk like a creep, let him!

but the thought weighed on you. your heart whined in the quiet dark of your room late at night. the empty space beside you, the prodding of a dream you'd long since killed: rising a grey soil-ridden hand out from the depths of it's grave.

it was never gonna work anyway. it was the thought that sent you into sleep.

friday night arrived like a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day.

you thrust your hips into your tiniest skirt and your chest through your prettiest top. your friends met you out on the sidewalk, already three drinks deep when you all spill into the muggy heat of the bar.

two vodka cranberries and three tequila shots under, the thought of Miguel dissipates. it's further incinerated by the warmth of the hand on your hip.

the man is tall - sure, not as tall as Miguel - and his blonde hair hung over his forehead. it didn't look soft, like how Miguel's did--

your grip tightened around the half-empty cup, thumb-sized welts melting through the plastic with the electric heat of your hand. shut up.

he brings you another drink. you chug it without another thought. he laughs and wipes at a red drop running down your chin with a cool hand. the bar swims around you in technicolour strobe lights and before you know it, the enthusiasm of the good times are whittling down to a thin thread.

"can i walk you home?"

you nod. he slips your hand in his and it's still too cool against your hot palm.

in the barely lit street, you wonder if he notices your glow. it wasn't so bright when you wanted it to be, but he was still too distracted by the tune of his own voice to notice.

"and we went down to the dock that day, there was a whole keg stand and we even--"

you think that maybe if you were as drunk as you were an hour ago that you'd have more energy to entertain him better. you nodded dumbly instead.

a quick in and out, you thought. you could tolerate him just for a few more hours if it meant he left your bed before the sun rises. he wasn't who you wanted, but he was here. and Miguel wasn't.

now that the alcohol in you was dwindling, not dead but dying, the melancholy of your situation was curling a cold hand up and making it hard to breath where it wrapped around your throat.

your building watched contemptuously down at you when you drew to a stop in front of it.

the man's, Cooper's, blue eyes draws circles over your face and his hand finds your waist again. he inches you closer.

"am i saying goodnight, or are you inviting me inside?"

you smile at him. it's faint and half-assed.

the rest of the night looms in your mind. could you really stand his Old Spice reeked conversation for another few hours? and would he really be able to get your mind off--

oh, oh. he's leaning in.

his thumb is pressing into the cavern of your cheeks, eyes pressing closed as rum-stifled breath nears your lips--

thwip. thwip.

there's a gust of air and a thump and Cooper is plastered to the side of your building in white webbing. his hands are pinned at his side, face white in shock.

your eyes widen. you teeter on shaky drunk legs, turning to face the rooftops where the darkness is blanketing over them and hiding where you know Miguel is lurking within.

alcohol infused rage claws up within you.

"O' Hara!" you scream out into the street. your hands heat, the streetlamp above flickering wildly under your influence. "you fucking asshole!"

your foot stamps against the concrete, hands racing up to your head and through your hair. "aaaghhh--!"

the bulb in the streetlight bursts. glass showers over your tantrum. it follows down the row of lights down the street, exploding in quick succession and sinking the sidewalk under an inky black cover.

you're now shining like a light on the mast of a fishing ship, casting a glow over the sea of tar. the spider is yet to emerge into your line.

"you are so full of shit! and if i see you again i will blast you through the whole city block, and this time you won't wake up--!"

"what the fuck--"

you turn with glowing eyes on the blonde bound to the wall, "shut up!"

thwip. his head bangs back against the brick where another web has sealed his mouth shut.

whipping back, your eyes find a shuffling figure over the next building. it's just a flicker of movement and then it's gone.

"ugh! you are so childish!"

you draw your hands over your face, running them down your cheeks and sigh. a couple deep breaths later and you can feel the heat of your power subsiding, it's dragging the anger down along with it.

"i'm going to bed." you mutter, patting down your skirt and fixing the edge of your shirt.

"mmpf--" Cooper moans against his restraints.

you'd just about forgotten about the man glued to your building. you cock your head at him.

"yeah ... well. good luck with that."

the buzzer echoes behind you when you shut the gate on his struggling.

it's hot when you wake up.

the covers are sticking to your legs and there's an itch in your throat for a tall glass of water. somewhere beyond the thrum of a headache against your forehead, you remember the bottle of water you set aside to cool in the fridge for this exact moment.

you groan when your feet hit the floor, the rush of blood to your head doing nothing to aid where your brain is pounding.

the apartment is warm with the soft glow of nearly morning. your alarm clock is flashing red - 05:02

orange light peeks over the counter when you pull your fridge open, the glare of starchy blue light pressing against your sensitive eyes. from the bottom drawer, you fish out the bottle and unscrew the cap.

you chug it down noisily, wet slurps echoing across the room. when you set it down you sigh, "god."

the image of your bed swims in your mind. the lure of the sheets calls to you again.

"princesa."

your back slams into the edge of the counter, "j-jesus--"

lurking in the corner by the door, wide shoulders out of place in the cramped apartment, stands Miguel O' Hara in his shiny red and blue suit.

your heart leaps into your throat, lodging there like a stone. you swallow around it. fuck, he looks so good.

"you," you stabilise the water bottle where it's spilt over the floor from your leap in fright. "what the hell are you doing here?"

he takes a step towards you. you press further back against the counter.

"i came to talk to you."

you guffaw, mouth slackening in amused disbelief. "talk? now you wanna talk?"

rising irritation flushes blood down to your legs, anger urges your steps forward all the way until your standing beneath him.

"you have been a pain in my ass for two weeks now--" you shove a finger into his hard chest, rising enough electricity to zap him but not enough to hurt. well, not hurt too much. he flinches.

"i've been a pain-- you electrocuted me through the side of a building?"

his face twisted, brow-bone hardening where he was glaring down at you.

"you deserved it. and i hope it hurt."

"it didn't."

"you're a liar."

silence rung into the space. you held your glare, but could feel it slowly softening. Miguel's hair was creeping over the edge of his forehead and his eyes had turned back to their chestnut brown that glittered in the sunlight peeking through the window.

he looked so ... so tame in this light. cramped into your apartment like he could belong there, like he could maybe be yours if you asked.

you broke first, turning away. "get out, Miguel." it was a whisper but you know he heard it.

"i need to talk to you."

you shook your head, refusing to meet his gaze again. "you had two weeks to talk, but instead you've been interfering in my life--"

"interfering? i saved you."

you huffed, forcing yourself to face him again. "saved me? saved me from what, a lunch date? a one night stand?"

at that, he turned away. face reddening. "i wouldn't have had to do that if you weren't going out with such fucking losers--"

"oh, pardon me for trying to find a date in my own dimension, someone who actually gives a shit about me.”

“i give a shit about you.”

you stilled. your lip wobbled against your will. “that’s not fair, Miguel.”

he shrunk the space by taking another step. “i came to apologise—“

you shook your head again. eyes finding the floor. against your sides, your palms were warming again: your next steps playing out in your mind.

another scalding hand to the chest, his body seizing underneath your palm and dragging his unconscious body out onto the street. probably come back and cry yourself back to sleep.

your hand rises.

“oh no,” thwip. thwip. “not this time, mi amor.”

just as he’d done to Cooper, your hands were plastered back against your apartment wall: splayed out against the cream paint job.

“this webbing thing is getting real fucking boring O’Hara—“

he was against you in an instant. warm, solid chest pressed against your pajama shirt. his hands came to cup your cheeks.

“i came to apologise.” you pressed your head back against the cold wall, eyes trained on the corner of the floor in your kitchen. it needed a vacuum. “i know i should have come when you asked. i know that.”

if you look at him, for even a second, you’d crumble and you knew it. your eyes were clouding, waterline wet.

a calloused finger ran slow and gentle down your jaw. “please look at me, princesa.”

you shook your head. a stray tear chased down, catching under the press of his finger.

“why don’t you go bother one of your other inter-dimensional girlfriends, Miguel.”

he growled at that, low and deep, and you’d be a liar if you said your knees didn’t buckle under the sound.

Miguel pressed forward: cheek to yours, hand digging welts into your hip.

“there’s no-one else. there’s only you, it’s only ever been you.”

you huffed at that, it curled at the edge with a humourless chuckle. “what, with this jawline and these muscles? i hope you don’t think i’m a fucking idiot.”

he caught the lobe of your ear between his teeth, pressing his body harder to yours, but you didn’t relent. your eyes fluttered against his heat, but stayed trained away from his shadowy figure.

“why are you so fucking difficult.” his breath was warm there. “you said prove it, Miggy, and i’m here proving it.”

“you’ve always known i was difficult.” you whisper, it’s more of an after-thought really.

he sighs, shoulders loosening just enough that you can make it out in the corner of your eye.

the flat column of his nose presses into your cheek. he nudges it there softly and it warms a pit deep inside you.

“sí, mi amor. lo sé.” hot lips press into your cheek and a whine escapes you before you can catch it. his thumb has reached up and is pressing into the space behind your ear.

his lips are traveling, just barely grazing your skin with pecks down your jaw. then to the column of your throat, to the bend between your shoulder and your neck.

“i know that … and you know that. and yet you still have no concept of how much trouble you make for me.” his voice swooping into the crevice of your collarbone. his teeth graze over that same spot. “how i can’t even work without thinking about you, watching every monitor hoping you’ll be in another dimension causing chaos so i can come find you and you can bat those pretty fucking eyelashes at me. can’t sleep. think about you lying beside me. about all the pretty noises i can draw from your pretty throat.”

his knee sinks to the ground, hitting the floor with a soft thump. the other follows shortly after.

that draws your gaze off the floor, eyes wide in surprise. they find the supple curls on the top of his head.

even on both knees, the crown of his head brushes under your nose.

the sight was widening the lump in your throat. it burnt to swallow.

“and yet you still never came.”

he shakes his head at that. gentle hands reach for the end of your pajama shirt, tugging it up slowly. Miguel leans forward and presses another kiss against the soft fat over your exposed hip.

you twitch against him, gasping at the heat of his lips over your cool skin. at your hands, your fingertips crackle with summoned energy. you can feel where the webbing is slowly melting under it’s press.

“‘s not true.” he says against you. “i’m here all the time.”

your shirt is being lifted higher as his head chases up your naked stomach, nipping at the skin where it freckles with goosebumps.

“i come to watch you—“

“that’s not creepy at all—“ you mutter, only teasing, and you’re punished with a particularly hard bite at your ribs.

“come because i miss your face and your laugh and …” he sighs, nudging his cheek against you. “god you make me fucking sick.”

there’s a squelch where the webbing has melted just enough for you to pry your hands from the wall, immediately grasping for the depths of Miguel’s hair.

“ever the romantic.” you huff. but you tug on his roots so he’s facing up to you, neck stretched deliciously with veins and hard muscle.

he’s blinking, lips parted as he waits for you.

“are you being serious, Miguel?” you ask quietly.

his eyes twinkle. “i am.”

you purse your lips, a smile creeping up into the corners of your mouth. your nails scrape over the crown of his head, trailing down to rest at the base of his neck. his eyes flutter shut against your hand.

“this might be the best apology i’ve ever received.”

he hums. “that’s good.”

“is it over, or should i let you finish? cause i’m kind of itching to kiss you right now.”

a smile of his own creeps over his face. it’s a sight you’ve maybe caught a glimpse of once in your life.

“i’m done.”

he leans up, persuaded by your touch reaching to cup his jaw. he’s almost at your mouth when he whispers again.

“you’re not gonna electrocute me for trying to kiss you again, are you?”

you laugh at that, his grip on your waist tightens at the sound. “you ever gonna let that go, old man?”

“old man?”

he surges forward, lips finding yours in a bruising kiss.

you giggle against him and your hands are everywhere: through his hair and down his shoulders and over his jaw. his tongue slips in against yours and it's saccharine like you'd always dreamed it to be. Miguel's hands race up your calves, behind your knees and hook beneath your thighs. he lifts you with him when he stands.

your legs wrap around him and he's persistent, pushing you against the wall in the heat of his kiss.

you detach your lips from his, chasing them down his cheek and into the crevice between his jaw and his neck. he groans, fingertips driving deeper into the plush of where he was holding you up by your thighs.

"i should get you jealous more often."

he guffaws, face above yours. "me? jealous of those idiots? as if."

leaning back to meet his face again, you cock an eyebrow. "you wrecked that guy's car. and taped the other one against a building."

his eyes rolled, an all-too-pretty blush darkening his face. he dropped it against your shoulder, "you know about the car?"

you laugh. "what else is big enough to flip a car in Manhattan. and the claw marks? you're so transparent it's almost hot."

Miguel chuckles and it's ticklish against your skin. he drops another kiss there. "i don't like sharing."

"sharing?"

he's back to nipping spots up your neck. "don't wanna share my girl."

the smile on your face was impossible to squash. "oh, i'm your girl now?"

he nods. "will you be?"

your fingers creep back into his hair, bringing him back into the light of your eyes. "you're not trying to make a hero out of me, are you? convert me to your little spider-squad?"

his lips purse, pretending to consider it, before eventually shaking his head. "no."

“wouldn’t a villain and a spider-man together collapse the multiverse or something?”

“then let it collapse.”

your thumb tugs on his fat bottom lip before letting it snap back in place. "god you're a sweet talker, Miggy."

you press forward to kiss him again. he sighs.

comment and repost if you enjoyed <3

taglist: @lovely-vamp-princess @yeetmetothesky @mdsbabygirl @wyldeflovver @literally-a-god @the-great-ladyg @yerimsho @kerbulkdystchan @sandwich-picklebelly18 @ghostingtheinternet @readinghoes @stqrlightrs @vampiremiguel950 @snowdrop987 @vikingqueen28 @dakumoon-00000 @ilovewoc @sparklytoaster @animequeen4 @neytirisgfreal @shinononstan @queerponcho @edgaluten @mxn14 @jollycandybanana @jxnnav @mik-bxrnes @hotbisexualmess @judeeduartte @omg-kitzia-blr @over-the-moon-for-you @daedaep69 @snailss @mysteriouserrorrr @dazeydelrey @brownskin-bunny @littlelfreak @simeon-lovergirl @sticksheaad @miguelslefteyebrow @crazy-ravioli @sweethxneytea @starsluver @obi-mom-kenobi @that-freaky-mysterious-one @cheermoon @lipstickmarks @vaporwave8chan @chiyoyooo @agentr13 @stargazingcarol @keeninternetchaos

#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel o hara #fic rec #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv fanfiction

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mygreatadventurehasbegun · 8 days

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OK.

So I've kind of been obsessing over The Crow since watching it for the first time last Friday.

I cannot believe it took me this long to watch it because it is so up my alley and once I get a physical copy that can work in my blu-ray player (I bought a 4K and didn't realize until I'd opened it), I can totally see this becoming a comfort movie.

Bad day?

Watch The Crow.

Home sick?

Watch The Crow.

But I want to talk about what might be my favorite scene in the movie.

youtube

Which may seem an odd choice compared to something like the scene at the pawn shop, where we get to see Eric have a little fun...his humor and personality come through along with the menace.

But this scene with Eric and Tin Tin?

It is fantastic.

I love how it starts with Eric experimenting...testing to see how far he can go...ending with that maniacal, gleeful laugh when he discovers he is impervious to harm.

But it gets really good when he confronts Tin Tin.

When you see him through the fire, he's like an animal. He has his prey in sight, and nothing will get in his way.

He is being fueled purely by his rage.

And when he screams: "MURDERER!!!" at Tin Tin, it legit gives me chills.

And then the dialogue between them starts and he switches. He is no longer being fueled by rage alone...now the pain is starting to creep in. But the pain is keeping his rage in check...for now. And I find it interesting that it almost seems to physically hurt him when Tin Tin starts talking about what he did to Shelly. Which of course, is what gives Tin Tin the brief upper hand in the fight.

But he's fighting a temporarily immortal being, and so that upper hand doesn't last. I'm obsessed with the way Eric avoids the knives (I guess you missed Tin Tin) and how he turns the table to take his first act of vengeance.

I lot of the reason I love this scene really comes down to Brandon Lee's performance. Like I said earlier, this is his rage and pain laid bare and Brandon Lee did such an outstanding job and physicalizing it and making it so palpable. Again, hearing about the pain Shelly went through seems to physically hurt him (which we also see in later scenes)...and I interpret the story as Eric came back to avenge Shelly's death, not his own.

And the other reason I love this scene is the fight choreography. Of the four villains Eric goes after, Tin Tin is really the only one who put up a fight (I know Fun Boy's scene was longer where they actually fought once Darla left), and so that makes the scene a bit more interesting to watch. But the fight is very raw and rough...I appreciate the fact that the fight wasn't "perfect", even though they could have easily done it, considering all of Brandon Lee's skills. And the knife work is really cool, culminating in that final blow with "Victims. Aren't we all?"

I am so happy I finally got to see this movie.

And if you're looking for something to watch this Halloween season, I highly recommend this one!

#i'm kind of surprised it's not being re-released for the 30th anniversary this fall #it does take place on october 30th #the crow #the crow 1994 #random thoughts #brandon lee #Youtube

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save-the-villainous-cat · 2 years

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Hii, I'm here to drop a request~

Okay so, i have a thing for self-distrustive characters. Here's the idea: give me a self-harming hero who is too weak to act on it alone and willingly surrenders themselves to villain assuming (hoping maybe) they would torture them for information. Villain tho reluctant, doesn't hesitate to hurt the hero not too seriously tho. But for our self distrustive hero whatever the villain is doing is not enough to make them feel the relief they're seeking so~ let it slip out. Let them thoughtlessly cry out for more. And then give me a shocked villain. A concerned, regretful and lastly caring enough to treat their wounds villain. Give me an unresponsive to the villain's treatment hero. If you'd like to ass anything feel free <3

Much love to you friend, stay hydrated, we love you ~<33

It wasn’t like it didn’t hurt.

It just didn’t hurt enough. That’s why the hoarse please had slipped from their tongue. And it was why the weak more followed. Judging from their actions, the villain hadn’t heard it right away but when the hero cried harder, the villain’s hands came to a stop.

They’d broken three fingers, not to mention the shattered ankle. What had happened to their ankle had felt just but once the villain had moved on to their fingers, the hero had secretly begging them to break harder bones, like their collarbone or maybe even their ulna. It was sick, they knew it in their heart. It was maniacal and disturbing to feel like this.

Heroes were supposed to save people, even if their own well-being came in last. Saving themselves counted too.

The villain let go of their hand, eyes darting between the hero’s.

“What did you just say to me?” The villain’s hands went through the hero’s hair, getting a full grip of them, pulling them up.

The hero thought about their broken ankle. About how they wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks, maybe even a few months…? They always concentrated on the pain, rather than the period it took place in. By the time old pain faded, the hero always managed to get themselves into new trouble.

Letting injuries heal had never been an option. The villain let go of them.

It was hard. It was hard to lie there and accept their defeat, the fact that the villain had found out about their secret and more importantly, that they had stopped bruising the hero.

“Please,” the hero sobbed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Their nose was running and their tears gathered together, falling down their cheeks like raindrops from the sky. Breathing was hard, their lungs felt frail from these past months and the world came crashing down around them.

When their sobs echoed from the walls, they felt truly defeated, humiliated, and the pain wasn’t enough to forget that.

For a moment, nothing happened. Neither of them said anything. All that was left in the room were the villain’s questions and the quiet sobs the hero made. Feeling overwhelmed by the horribleness of it all, the hero rolled themselves into a little ball, crying into their torn sleeve. They were ready for everything. Ready to die, ready to be bled, to be beaten, anything.

“Hey, easy there.” Once again, the villain combed their fingers through the hero’s hair but this time it was much more gentle and softer, leaving the hero with the taste of bile on their tongue. They braced themselves for new pain, impatiently waiting for the lashing out and the violent actions but nothing of that sort came. Quite the opposite: the villain scratched their scalp softly.

“Darling, what happened to you?” Their nails scraped across the hero’s skin, taking their time. It was oddly comfortable. Even though their muscles ached, they looked up at the villain crouching above them.

“Please,” the hero begged again. “Please hurt me.”

The villain was silent, biting their inner cheek as if they were considering it. But when they answered with a tender “no,” all hopes the hero had were crushed.

“Please.”

“You’re a mess. Hurting you seems to be what you want. I don’t want to give you what you want,” they explained. They wiped away a tear. “Don’t mistake this for compassion. This is me controlling your desires. This is me taunting you.”

They pulled the hero who had exhausted themselves and was completely defenceless into their arms.

“And this is me wanting information. Why did you say that?” They held them close and embarrassingly enough, it dawned on the hero how touch-starved they were.

“I am so alone,” they whispered. They mumbled the words, not even believing their own mouth for saying it. No one was supposed to hear this. “I am so alone.”

They started sobbing again. It was hopeless. The villain was the only comfort they had — even now that they weren’t hurting them.

“You will never be alone with me,” the villain said carefully. “I’ll make sure of that. Now, come on. Let’s treat your wounds.”

In all honesty, the hero had never done that. They weren’t sure if there were rules to it.

“If this is you taunting me,” the hero said, “then why do you want to treat my wounds?”

The villain gave them a grim look that didn’t leave room for protest.

“I’m asking the questions, not you.”

#I assume you meant destructive darling #have you ever watched beauty and the beast and seen the end titles where they thank Howard ashman for his work and have you ever called #your boyfriend after that and you were crying and he was like what happened so you told him that youre sad because Howard started the whole #disney renaissance with his lyrics and he died so young because of aids and his lyrics got a fucking Oscar but at that point he had died #already so he didnt even know that beauty and the beast had become the best Disney movie of all time past present and future and your #boyfriend just has to bite back his laugh because you didnt even know this guy and youre crying over him like #guys the Disney lore is too deep I could go on like this forever #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #whump

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the-journal-in-law · 2 years

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Are We Not Enemies?

@saltydumplings

"You left me!" the villain accused, eyes narrowed and lined with the faintest hint of tears as they jabbed a finger towards their nemesis.

The hero's expression, however, remained bewildered. "I went on holiday..."

"You didn't tell me!" the villain snapped.

"I was gone for a week--"

"I thought you were dead! I thought Supervillain had killed you so I hunted them down and I killed them to get revenge for you!"

The hero's mouth fell open wordlessly, eyes going wide. "Y-You did what?"

"What? Was I supposed to just let your killer go?"

The hero spluttered. "That's what I expected, yes!"

The villain went quiet at that, tilting their head down so the hero couldn't see what they were feeling. Hoarsely, they repeated, "I thought you were dead..."

"Are you - are you crying?" the hero said incredulously.

"Shut up!" The villain wiped their eyes on their sleeve. "I wouldn't have had to do it if you hadn't disappeared on me!"

The hero was speechless. Then, in a confused voice, they said, "Did I miss something? Are we friends? Heck, lovers?"

The villain fixed a blank look on them. "Excuse me?"

"It's just...the way you're reacting is more like a concerned wife than a murderous maniac." The hero gestured helplessly.

Really, all they did was respond to an emergency call right after getting off the plane. And - surprise, surprise - the first villain they had to fight after their holiday was the one the hero was often called to apprehend.

What did surprise them was when the villain suddenly stopped their monologue upon catching sight of the hero. Then, the villain had teleported them to an abandoned warehouse where they proceeded to rant about taking a break off work without telling them.

"I'm really sorry if I did miss something. You know, my friend calls me an oblivious idiot on good days, and with you being - well, a villain - I never considered you would want to date me?" The hero's voice went high. "Not that you being a villain means I don't want to date you. Just that I kinda wasn't expecting it? N-not that I think you want to date me. We can be friends! If you're open to it. It might be a bit weird, what with us being on opposing sides, but I'm sure we can--"

"Hero," the villain interrupted. "Breathe."

The hero gasped in a huge breath. With a weak smile, they said, "S-sorry. I tend to ramble a lot."

"I know," the villain said. "It's not like you haven't kept an entire conversation going during our fights - by yourself while fighting. This is a pretty late apology."

"I do that?" the hero wondered, then shook their head. "Nevermind! Can we go back to the fact that you killed Supervillain?"

The villain crossed their arms. "I figured it was past time for someone to topple their throne."

"Wait, no," the hero said. "You're not getting away that easily. You said and I quote, that you killed Supervillain to get revenge for me."

"Did you seriously say 'and I quote?'"

"Answer my question."

The villain stared consideringly at the hero, and it almost seemed as if they were going to comply. "I don't remember you asking a question."

"Did you get soft?" the hero pushed. "Did I melt your cold heart and now you have warm, fuzzy--"

"No!" the villain yelled. "As if I would get feelings for you."

"Wow, harsh," the hero replied, a little hurt. "Is me being a hero turning you off that much?"

"It's not about you being a hero," the villain hissed. "I couldn't care less about that. It's about your little holiday jaunt forcing me to take over a criminal empire!"

The hero gaped. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I killed Supervillain!" the villain shouted. "That means every one of their supporters and whoever else who wanted their position is going after me now."

"I-I'm sorry?" the hero stuttered, not sure if they were actually to blame but knowing better than to voice that out loud. "Do you...do you want to go on a date?" they blurted.

The villain raised a brow. "A date."

The hero winced. "Yes, a date. For compensation?"

The silence stretched long enough for the hero to nearly take back the offer.

"A date," the villain repeated, this time a little manic. "Yeah, why not? A date with a hero..."

"Is that a 'yes?'"

"Yes," the villain said, finally allowing themselves a small smile.

#prompt fill #heroes and villains #hero x villain

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rascalentertainments · 5 months

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Wish Granted AU: Magnifico, Amaya and Sabor 🌟

PREPARE FOR TROUBLE, AND MAKE IT DOUBLE!!! 😈😼

I've been itching to get to these guys for a while! They're probably going to be the most fun to write! Of course, this version is based off the evil Disney villain couple we deserved. (ROBBED) The vibe I want to give here is Team Rocket meets Gomez and Mortica Addams: Elegant, evil yet SO entertaining to watch!

For Magnifico, I actually got inspiration from the Wish movie itself. One aspect that was underused was his tendency to put on a performance during the Wish granting ceremonies, and when he "turned evil" in the third act. Especially when he's a DISNEY villain performing a DISNEY like ceremony! I adore villains that put on a show when they're fighting the hero. Broadcasting the battle, the evil monologue, maniacal laughing while thinking they've won. LOVE that, but they didn't go all the way with him being a hammy villain. So whenever its time for a ceremony, its a big deal. With his wife and loyal lynx, they put on a show worth watching. Plus the way they work together basically splits up watching the kingdom and keeping their cover.

Maginifico is the frontman and keeps the people's wishes in his tower. He promises them a free and happy life in Rosas in exchange for their wishes and dreams. However, the price is that they no longer have a driving force in their life. They're complacent living there and serving the king, but they don't experience pure joy anymore. They're just merely existing and going through life always feeling something's missing in their lives. His apprentice Flazino is supposed to be learning from the king and assisting him by getting the ingredients needed for potions and spells. Magnifico actually has no intention of passing on his vast knowledge to a peasant or even considers giving him the ability to do magic, but he's at least a good errand boy. (Though Mag doesn't know he's a double agent)

Magnifico uses the wishes to gain power for himself, as its his greatest desire, but that desire is never truly satisfied. He takes more and more and its never enough, no matter how many wishes he eats. He once heard from a philosopher named Tomas that the stars themselves are the most powerful things on Earth, and this sparks the idea to pull a star from the sky itself to achieve that undying thirst. Magnifico fails many times, but once he senses that someone else has managed to do the impossible, he knows he must have that star. (Magnifico's voiced by Antonio Banderas in this, because HE WOULD'VE BEEN AWESOME, MAN)

Amaya here works her magic behind the scenes. Like her concept counterpart, she creates the potions and spells for Magnifico. However, she actually taught him about magic back when they first met. Mags became so enamored by it that he wanted to start performing it himself, and the two of them actually grew stronger in their abilities by using magic together. They even created a way to take wishes directly from people's hearts, as the couple discovered they could use the joy from people's wishes to fuel their own desires.

While her husband takes care of keeping the citizens attention on him mostly, Amaya personally goes down to the people of Rosas keep an eye on the people. Ever since the amount of traitors escaped from them. She puts on a warm smile for them, but like a wolf in sheep's clothing, she's looking for any hint of disloyalty in them. If she does, their wish is gone, permanently.

One of her strengths is that if she can't manipulate people with magic, she can do it psychologically. Speaking in half truths and turning the tables on her enemy, Amaya could change the mind if just about anyone if she dug deep enough. So when she does meet Star in a brief one on one fight, she knows exactly where to hit the Starboy where it hurts: his heart. (Amaya is voiced by Salma Hayek in this because yes I must have that same chemistry as The Last Wish, they're so good together)

Lasty, Sabor the Lynx! While he's a ridiculously pampered wild cat raised by Amaya, she still taught him to be cunning and eliminate any enemy at all costs. Sabor casually checks far into the woods surrounding the castle. Sometimes for fresh air and catch a few mice (Scar atyle), but he also works as sort of a watchdog for Amaya. Sabor watches for any suspicions people coming or going and unbeknownst to the citizens and sniff out anyone that doesn't belong. He's mostly the opposite of Valentino in every aspect, aside from their loyalty to their owners. (Expect for Magnifico, he's not so crazy about him) (As for voice, if I didn't use regular Lynx sound effects, I'd go with Dee Bradley Baker, or Alan Tudyk. That makes way more sense than voicing a three week old goat)

The last ones to feature are the 7 Teens, which will take some time, then I'll get to the first chapter to see how it goes. Please tell me to your thoughts, I'd love to hear them! (Plus I....just want to talk to you guys, it feels more fun when you're around. Its sappy I know 😅)

@signed-sapphire @oh-shtars @annymation @spectator-zee @kstarsarts @chillwildwave @flicklikesstuff @uva124 @tumblingdownthefoxden

#rascal entertainments #wish 2023 #disney wish #wish concept art #wish reimagined #wish granted #wish granted au #wish rewrite #wish fandom #wish star #wish movie #wish au #king magnifico #queen amaya #chair #wish amaya #wish magnifico

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nightcolorz · 6 months

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For the ask game: ❤️💚💙

YAYY thank u sm for the ask! these questions r so fun. I’m going off of the book fandom btw

❤: Which character do you think is the most egregiously mischaracterized by the fandom?

Louis <3 I think this is an affect of how likable and overtly sympathetic he is in the amc show but I've seen people getting genuinely offended over Louis being described in fandom (and by Anne rice herself) as a manipulative cold hearted ass who uses his perceived vulnerability and gentleness to distract from the fact that he is just as cruel if not crueler then the other vampires. Like Louis does nottt have strong morals or high empathy lmao. Book Louis weaponizes his privilege like a white woman crying to self victimize into making the other vampires look worse them him 😭 . He refuses to kill humans for a while not bcus it hurts him to take life (he actually takes more pleasure in it then most), he refuses bcus he has catholic brain the way a christians who say "how do atheists have morals without god?" do, misunderstanding that most people actually care about other people and dont need an existential threat to encourage them not to hurt others.

His moral compass is self centered and based in up keeping the appearance of self restraint and monk style lack of enjoying himself, not empathy. If a vampire killed u would u feel better if u knew he cried over how much he got off on it then flaunted his suffering over how little he indulged so that everyone knew how piosis he was 😭.

He is way worse when it comes to how he treats his victims then Armand who intentionally seeks out victims who r asking to die or Lestat who tries the vigilante approach. Louis kills innocents and he thinks it makes him better cuz he only does it sometimes and he feels really really bad about himself afterwards. As akasha said (paraphrased) he's the most predatory of them all.

To specify I love book Louis SOOOO much I love how shitty he is that's why it makes me sad when people mischaracterize him as sincere and get gen mad when ppl characterize him how he is in canon (a lying selfish bitch bless his heart). Like ik amc Louis at this point in canon is unambiguously in the right but he isn't like an accurate reflection of how he is in the books 😭 it's not like amc did what anne rice was trying to do more successfully, they just nulled what anne rice was doing in favor of a more likable protagonist. Which is fine, but like, there's no crime in preferring evil to the core horrible asshole Louis of the books.

💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?

I think the common fandom perception of Armand as the crazy unhinged "omg I can't believe he actually did that in the books??" sadistic maniac villain guy is funny but not really accurate. Armand explicitly not only tries to avoid violence but dislikes it and finds it hard to comprehend why someone would seek out violence and conflict.

The reason he is always doing fucked up shit isn't out of a lestat-esc desire to cause chaos, it's bcus his highly strung ptsd brain has him convinced that the world is a battle ground and he must always be defending himself and acting out in violence.

Since acting out in violence is a reaction hes been taught throughout his life to be standard and necessary, as violence is something so normalized to him he considers it more of a tedious chore then a last resort measure, he usually reacts to conflict in ways that are objectively extreme to anyone who isn't thinking from his perspective. In qotd he even asks Daniel why men choose to fight in wars, explaining that he doesn't understand the draw of violence (bcus he's not a man) and he can't comprehend the supposed thrill of it.

Then he says this in pl to Gregory

💙: Which character is not as hot as everyone else seems to think they are?

i was going to say Marius but I figure that's too obvious since everyone at this point knows I don't like Marius 😭 so here's an even hotter take,,,,, Lestat ‼️

Only to a degree, I think Lestat is hot and deserves the hype, but i also think he's hot in a different way then a chunk of the fandom does. Based on his book description he's kind of wonky looking, mouth too big for his face, vaguely unnerving shallow pale skin, starved 1700s peasant build but also kind of buff in the unhealthy "i dont eat regularly but I'm strong enough to carry a wolf for miles on my back" sense, weirdly small fucking feet. He def has creepy ass florescent blue doll eyes too. my point is I think when drooling over Lestat the fandom tends to forget this wonkiness in favor of blonde bombshell, Sam Reid chizzled jawline and abs, or conventionally beautiful anime twink, when they should be appreciating lestat in all his weird as shit glory.

#Ask game #tvc #the vampire chronicles #vampire chronicles #vc #armand #lestat de lioncourt #iwtv #interview with the vampire #the vampire armand #Prince Lestat #the vampire lestat #louis de pointe du lac

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steven-has-exploded · 1 month

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ive yet to really see anyone else point this out but i think fyodor is going to end up being one of the most gut-wrenchingly unstable and sympathetic (to ME atleast) characters in bsd. what i perceive as foreshadowing for this has all been pretty vague, but thats really only further ammunition considering the way asagiri likes to write via throwing the wildest shit at us out of nowhere at 50mph and expecting us to deal with it. how did i first come to this conclusion? harukawas eye thing

this is going to be long please proceed with caution if you read slowly or just not at literal supersonic speed. rant under cut u know how this works

for those unaware or who have since forgotten the exact details, here is the image explaining harukawas thing with eyes, click to read;

so. fyodors eyes are usually very light, which a few other people have pointed out is probably due to the fact he genuinely believes his goal of ridding the world of abilities is following gods will; almost everything he does is a necessary evil to acheive the idealistic dream of a world without abilities. he understands his actions are wrong, but you cant go through with a goal such as that without doing morally reprehensible things in the process. anws so as user wildflowerteas pointed out his eyes are extremely dark after hes resurrected

now, could this just be signifying that fyodor can now continue doing his fucked up little deeds via his functional immortality? yes. but asagiri doesnt seem to write that way and i need an excuse to defend fyodor because im insane

asagiri generally doesnt write characters, especially important ones, as subscribing to one specific side of the moral compass. sure, there are characters that are more morally good or bad or gray than others, but not every one of their actions is as such. characters arent straight heroes or villains in their actions, and sometimes not even narratively; fitzgerald did everything for his wife to finally be happy and see her daughter again, dazai still trained akutagawa the way he did despite knowing it was abusive because his circumstances couldnt allow him to change before oda died, et cetera

so, lets interpret it another way. fyodors eyes being dark after resurrection may not be a reflection of his sinister personality, but rather the way he views and experiences his own countless deaths. he is purified in death and tainted when hes brought back; at peace in his last moments and destroyed when hes alive again. so what conclusion did this realization bring me to? fyodor is a suicidal maniac and hates his ability hear me out Please

in hindsight it seems really obvious to me now; what other reason could have spurred him on to try to desperately to erase abilities if not because he himself despises his own? his ability is truly the purest act of cruelty someone can experience when driven to the point he has been; it lets him bask in the calm of death, the comfort of everything finally ending, the solace that hes going to be finally rewarded for his actions by god. but only for a moment. once that moment is over, hes torn back into the world of the living, in the body of his own killer, the corpse of his last vessel staring him in the face as if to mock him for what he could never have. it deprives him of the human right to even die. what kind of person who claims to love all humanity wouldnt want to free the world of abilities, if others' have caused them as much pain as his has to him?

okok i apologize for making u hear me wax poetic about an anime twink version of fyodor dostoevsky but if youre still not convinced, which is ok i can see why this would be very insane to someone who isnt obsessed with this guy, i want you to just imagine for a moment how living with that kind of power would effect you. while we dont know fyodors exact age, we can assume that hes been alive for at least about 500 years due to his ability. fyodor isnt some kind of immortal being that has a conveniently human form, he is an actual human being who was first murdered presumably just in his twenties based on his appearance, who then had to slowly come to the realization that he will experience small spots of death before having to continue the same cycle of immortality for forever. human beings cant grasp the concept of infinity; our brains arent wired to deal with the idea, because everything in our own lives comes to an end. fyodor will never experience that. even if you view him as plain evil, pure and simple, no human being wishes to have their brain broken by the hands of infinity. and yet thats what fyodor is experiencing

#something something repeated theming of dehumanization in bsd #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #sowwy spamming tags cause i have a lot of thoughts and i want people to tell me if im going insane or not #is there anything else i can add actually #bsd theories #? yeah that works

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badschmitt24071994 · 1 month

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Vice: Project Doom, known in Japan as Gun-Dec (ガンデック), is an action video game developed by Aicom and published by Sammy Corporation for the Nintendo Entertainment System. The game was released in Japan on April 26, 1991, and in North America on November 1991. Vice: Project Doom is a side-scrolling platformer with noticeable similarities to the Ninja Gaiden series for the NES, with the addition of gun shooting and driving segments as well. The player assumes the role of a secret agent who must uncover a conspiracy involving a new kind of alien substance. A Sega Mega Drive conversion titled Deep Scanner was in development, but never released.It was released on Nintendo Switch Online in August 2019.

Plot:

The game has a large number of cut-scenes for its time, in which a full-fledged plot in the genres of anime, noir and biopunk is revealed.

In the distant future, the B.E.D.A. Corporation, a company involved in the development of electronic equipment and military weapons, is actually a front operated by a race of alien beings who have been living on the Earth for centuries in secrecy. The aliens have developed a substance named "Gel", which was initially intended to be used as food for their species, but also functions as an addictive substance to humans that results in terrible side-effects and is now being sold as an illegal drug within the underworld. The player takes the role of Detective Hart, a member of the Vice unit who is assigned to investigate the B.E.D.A. Corporation following the disappearance of his partner Reese during a previous case.During his mission, Hart is assisted by his lover and fellow Vice agent Christy, and Sophia, an acquaintance of the two.

Inspector Hart is ordered to stop a maniac on a road. After battling a high-tech, heavily armed truck, Hart discovers a monster, not a man, behind the wheel. His cargo is an unknown substance. Hart asks Christy and Sophia to find out its nature, and they report that the substance (probably a drug) leads to mafia and sorcerer Kim Long (in other translation – Kim Ron). Hart goes to China in search of him, and after breaking through mafia and monsters, he defeats Kim in battle. Christy determines that his clothes had soil particles from city of Ricardo (probably fictitious) in Central America. The information received leads Hart to a secret research base in the jungle, where he fights a certain flying cyborg. Defeating him, Hart recognizes his former friend, Captain Reese, whom he believed to be dead. He repents that he was once considered a war hero, because "there are no heroes in war." He tries to tell that a man with the face of Hart himself is behind the vice project, but at that moment he receives a bullet from an unknown sniper, but manages to say that Chris was kidnapped. The hero pursues the mercenaries on a train, fights the cyborgs in sewers and at the power plant, and finally Sofia says that Chris needs to be looked for in the biolaboratory. There he witnesses experiments on humans and animals and fights with a certain slimy mutant, but after defeating it, he realizes this is Chris, she confesses her love to him and dies in his arms, having managed to report that B.E.D.A. Corporation is behind everything (in Russian "beda" means "trouble", "doom"). Hart also sees his own clones in the flasks. To avenge his girlfriend, Hart breaks through an ambush on the road and enters the corporate headquarters, where director is waiting for him behind the security lines, and he looks like an aged Hart. He explains that he considers all of humanity to be pigs, and himself to be the one who can give them everything they deserve, the hero is a clone of the villain, and the corporation should be controlled by a dynasty of such clones, replacing each other. Hart refuses the offer to take over the board. A fight ensues between them, and Hart defeats the director of the corporation, first as a human, then as a monster. Dying, he says that fate cannot be avoided. Hart leaves, but another clone comes to life in the flask.

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crimsonender · 24 days

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Actually I just remembered something. I don't care.

I don't respect Lily's opinion enough to continue taking her ridiculous tantrum seriously so no I don't think I will be defending my list point per point. Something I will be do is admitting that some of the characters didn't fit the criteria. Those are:

Azula (Avatar the Last Airbender) : While she has motivations for doing what she does they're not really what I'd call a point. She knows she's lashing out.

Jennifer Check (Jennifer's Body): Only if you take the rape metaphor literially. Me and Lily both are guilty of doing this. Jennifer was a virgin when she died and the entity that we witness for the remainder of the film isn't actually Jennifer, it's a demon.

Smeagol: Mostly he's a victim. He's more pitiable than sympathetic.

Hades (Hadestown): maybe not a villain so much as the story is full of characters of various shades of grey.

Sister Jude Martin (American Horror Story): Ehhh half a point. She's trying to make up for sins of her past and is fighting the evil doctor to keep the patients from being experimented on, but she also makes the patient's lives hell.

Mystique: Heavily depends on which version of the character you mean. I'll give myself half a point because in the movies especially before First Class she's more of a villain with a point like Magneto. The two of them basically fall into Zionism issues.

Zim: He's just a guy with a job... not really a point.

Johnny the Homicidal Maniac: This story is very metaphorical but even with the metaphor I wouldn't say his motivations are a point, they're a compulsion.

Blaine DeBeers (iZombie): he doesn't really have so much of a point beyond his own self preservation. He tried to do the right thing sometimes because it'll make him feel better but has a hard time sticking to it. He's kind of similar to Bojack Horseman in a lot of ways.

Zoisite and Kunzite: a weird case. They're being manipulated by Beryl but they fight for each other and for love. Id knock it down to half a point but considering it's two characters half a point each means one whole point.

Annie Wilkes: someone who wants to be cared for. Sympathetic but her point is more of a narrative point.

I stand by the rest of them, personally. I welcome asks about the list if you want to talk about any entry in particular. But that's the fun part about these characters: they spawn interesting discussions! I walked back some of these choices after talking with a friend of mine and I convinced her of a few that I strongly stood by. I've said it a couple times regarding this but: Without all these different shades of grey we wouldn't get to have all the interesting discussions. The shades of grey are where the story happens!

All in all this is still 39 characters left and I'm pretty happy with that number.

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odetoviscera · 1 year

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Baldur's Gate 3: The Evil Experience

on the recommendation of @leupagus: My Very Special Evil Boy, Vexation. don't worry about the blood, it's a fashion choice.

if you've been wondering how evil you can be in baldur's gate 3, wonder no more-- So Evil.

so beginning at the beginning, i of course chose the Dark Urge (obvious serial killer) origin, who is conveniently customizable, so i also made him Drow and a Lolth Worshipper and a Warlock (all of which has made him only marginally more evil, tbh, mostly the related dialogue options make him a smug bastard, although OCCASIONALLY this will give him a "hmm what if i enslaved you" option which people do indeed react to as if he's an evil maniac and they should flee and/or try to kill him. this goes great for them considering i'm the protagonist.)

i wake up on an illithid ship with no memories, as one does. i befriend a walking talking brain, by which i mean i lobotomize it so that i can more easily control and manipulate it, as one does. i may not know who i am, but i definitely know that i am powerful, mean, and more important than everyone here. also i have a great old one in my brain giving me eldritch blast, so the tadpole wriggling around in there seems normal. i crash the ship sort of accidentally and am set loose on my merry way to wrack the Sword Coast with terrible mayhem. probably. as soon as i figure out if i'm about to turn into a mindflayer.

the first sign of my uncontrollable evil mania was when i tried to talk to a squirrel in act one (actually, i tell a lie, the FIRST sign was when i was tempted to hack Gale's hand off instead of dragging him out of the portal he got stuck in, but i decided i needed a wizard more than a dismembered hand) and the narrator informed me i had been Gripped By A Compulsion and promptly dropkicked the squirrel into a tree. it died, obviously. i was given the option to decide if i cared about this and decided that my opinion was a frankly inappropriate level of malicious glee considering the heights from which i, clearly child of murder, have obviously fallen to get amnesia and get tadpoled and fall out of the sky on a dying illithid spaceship. anyway this set me up for Being Maximally Deranged, however there is No Karma Meter or any equivalent system to MEASURE your evil or limit your dialogue options-- i have free reign at all times, i COULD decide that suddenly i'm going to be a Repentant Murderer, i can do Nice Things if i want the reward or the exp or i am exercising my single scintilla of compassion accidentally inculcated by my eventual three simultaneous romances (one of which is with the mindflayer who lives in my brain/an artifact stopping ME from becoming a mindflayer. this game is so horny, very classic dnd "i roll to romance the villain". except i am also the villain.) at this point i have no romances, though-- at this point my companions watch me kick a squirrel to death and their collective response is "well… that seemed… excessive."

i also have the option to tell every single one of them individually that i am driven by a blood mania to murder and destruction. opinions of this range from "well admitting you have a problem is the first step!" to "that's nice, just point it at the enemy instead of ME". no one seems appropriately concerned about this. they'll learn.

anyway the next sign of my uncontrollable evil mania is that when i decided to be nice to a bard for no reason and she showed up at our next long rest to Join The Party (oh we do get a bard companion, that's nice, i said, like a fool.) i promptly murdered her in the night. as in i woke up covered in blood with her corpse ritually slaughtered at my feet and said "hm. probably shouldn't let anyone else find out i did this" and then sulked when no one gave me proper respect and rewards for murdering her. fortunately the next day my Evil Butler materialized to do just that, and proved he wasn't a figment of my imagination by giving me an Evil Cloak that lets me turn invisible everytime i murder someone. i spend the next half an act or so convinced i'm going to slowly kill off my party, but fortunately i develop the ability to control myself. now i only murder when I WANT to murder.

the rest of act one i am SORT OF a good boy-- i do deliberately get a child killed but i don't PERSONALLY kill her, i get a druid's snake to do it, so does it really count against MY soul? yes but only me and daddy bhaal know it so i am able to continue playing Goody Two Shoes for the rest of the act. (i don't know he's my daddy yet, but like… i know it. i, the player, know it. in my soul. i've played these games before.) delightful fallout, my child murder gets the druid killed after i Helpfully Save The Tieflings by telling the opposing force i'll totally help them break in and kill them all, then betraying them at the last minute. i kill so so so many goblins. i get an inspiration point for how many goblins i kill. goblins are still sentient. It's Still Murder.

act two, however, empowered by all my Blood And Chaos, i turn over a new leaf. sure sure being lauded by the tieflings was fun and all, but i do somewhat regret not killing EVERYONE. i'll do better this time. this shadow-cursed hellscape is really vibing with me. it's also trying to eat me every time i'm not carrying a magic lamp but you can't win 'em all. i pretend that i'm with the antagonists (can you call them villains when I'M the villain?) so i can get their lamp. it's carried by a drider who does not appreciate my sincere compliments about how beautifully fucked up he is. his loss, i'm down to fuck anyone. i'm already fucking a githyanki and a vampire spawn.

when i get to the Big Bad Tower where supposedly they'll know about my tadpole, i discover they know something WAY MORE IMPORTANT: who the fuck i am. everyone here recognizes me. no one will tell me anything. several of them are appropriately terrified. this is infuriating but also promising. the Big Bad is a smug dick and i want to eat his heart raw. i daydream about this.

my butler arrives to tell me if i murder a Special Girl i'll get a treat. i like treats and i LOVE murder so i go looking for her. she's maintaining a Magic Selenite Moon Shield over the single not-shadow-cursed place here, which i hate on principle-- also it's a harper outpost and i hate them too, they'd probably disapprove of murder. some rando minion with wings drops in to tell me the Big Bad of the region wants to kidnap her (ALIVE, he specifies) so obviously i now double want to kill her. i kill her in one round. the magic shield collapses. EVERYONE dies (including the tieflings i saved in act one! full circle.) and then i kill their shadow-cursed undead corpses again, for good measure.

my treat is getting to turn into the slayer. i KNEW i was a bhaalspawn.

behold my true glorious visage. (with blep.) my only complaint is that i can only become this hulking death machine once per long rest. it is, however, not a turn-limited form, i can stay in it Forever if no one kills me as long as i'm willing to Just Murder No Talking. also it has a spectacular ladder-climbing animation, this bitch goes down ladders face-down like a lizard, i love him.)

anyway i don't go back to the Big Bad Tower bc presumably they'll be mad about the dead girl (i'm guessing she's Big Bad's dead daughter miraculously resurrected. i'm totally right by the way.) but the last time i was there i got a quest to find the Big Bad's Relic, which is obviously his phylactery or something since he's got a whole death aesthetic-- after a whole Temple of Shar sequence it turns out his phylactery is a captive aasimar actually. my companion wants to murder her for shar-related reasons, so i give her the go-ahead since i don't have any SPECIAL reason to kill her myself. my companions should get to be evil occasionally too.

with his phylactery dead, it's pretty easy to mow through the Big Bad Tower, especially since i can now turn into the Death Machine. i don't have to talk to anyone here. i can Just Murder.

nearly kill the Big Bad but he flees to his basement, where it turns out there's an mindflayer colony, big deal, we've all got tadpoles in our brains (i've been eating other tadpoles for extra power along the way, because of course i have) okay fine it's a slightly big deal bc there's an elder brain here that my Special Mindflayer Friend is shielding us from whatever. it's under the control of the Big Bad who's death aesthetic turns out to be that he's the Chosen of Myrkul, and also here are reps of the other Dead Three, Bane and My Daddy. i hate bhaal's chosen on sight, as is traditional for a bhaalspawn. i will murder her someday. i will murder her SO GOOD.

unfortunately she and the baneite fuck off with their elder brain to lay siege to baldur's gate while i'm daydreaming about it, so for now all i get to murder is Big Bad Myrkul Edition. moderately satisfying. he turns in an Avatar of Myrkul in the second half but i destroy him so quickly he doesn't even get to regenerate with the hojillion corpses in the area. nobody murders like vexation.

off to baldur's gate to save the city/get bigger hunting grounds!

i do cure the shadow curse on my way out though, because i'm never coming back and i've left the place a blighted wasteland, why not, it gets me a pet druid.

there's also some drama with githyanki and vlaakith, as usual, turns out the Rebel Prince Orpheus is actually how my particular mindflayer (who is finally revealing that he's a mindflayer, a thing i have suspected all along because of all the psychic shit he does) is doing the shielding, etc. etc. also i let my mindflayer boyfriend turn me in a half-illithid, which means i get no tentacles but a BUNCH of new mindflayer powers to make me an even better murderer. can't wait to see who wins in the tug-of-war for my mind, body, and soul--the illithids, my great old one beyond the stars, a devil who keeps trying to get my attention, my vampire boyfriend who wants to ascend to vampire god, or Murder Daddy. my bet is murder daddy.

anyway we get to baldur's gate, where i break in bc i don't want any guards to know i'm here-- just jumped and flew my way up the side of the bridge past the checkpoint. easy peasy now that i have illithid flight powers on command no cooldowns just Psychically Levitate wherever i want to go. also i can turn into a displacer beast. that's right, i now have to option to become TWO DIFFERENT terrifying horror beasts and rip through mobs like papier-mache. my patron really needs to keep up, warlock powers are falling behind. (no they aren't, i've hit level 10 and can now eldritch blast three times in one round and every hit knocks enemies back and terrifies them. i'm gonna chew this city up and swallow it one bite.)

however, first thing when i get into the citadel: the baneite is being coronated Archduke, bc of course he is. so i head up to see if there's a chance to murder him and a room full of peers, BUT. for the first time EVER-- this little shit is willing to tell me Who I Am. Assassin of Bhaal, former high priest of His Temple, and ONE OF THE INVENTORS OF THIS CONQUEST PLAN. that little bhaalite chosen is my bhaalspawn sister (obviously) who fucking tadpoled me, gave me amnesia, and discarded me before making sure my corpse was cold. this will be a mistake! FOR HER.

in the meantime the baneite wants me to know that he is a big fan of mine, would i like to murder my sister since i already murdered the myrkulite, and then he and i can rule this city together with an iron grip and a blood knife, since he's sure he'll have a lot of use for an assassin as a tyrant. mind-reading and my brain-illithid agree that he is actually on the level about this, at least for the moment, so of course i agree. i will rule this city. and then i will murder him. and then i will murder EVERYONE. in THE WORLD.

so now i'm hunting the current chosen of bhaal so i can kill her and steal her place-- my butler is sending me divine visions of it, SHE can't turn into the slayer, i am evil daddy's favourite. she's also kidnapped one of my companions and is threatening to kill her if i show up but i care about that less.

and that's where i am so far! will report on Future Evils.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 oc #baldur's gate evil edition #truly sorry i don't have more screenshots #i'll try to remember to take more for the rest of act three lol

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