#Villain's View

[villainsview]

Chapter 2

The Blood Under My Nails

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Five days can be a long time when your only companion is a teenager who keeps sobbing about his friend. I couldn’t keep him gagged all the time, it was a waste of tape, he could choke in his sleep, and I still had to keep him fed and hydrated. After three days I managed to convince him he was allowed to ask other questions, so long as they weren’t related to his friend.

“A-any news, sir?”

I rolled my eyes. He asked the same question several times a day, ever since I revealed my client was struggling to collect the ransom demanded for him. Honestly I was surprised Allard hadn’t called asking for ears of fingers yet, but I wasn’t in the mood for another crying fit, so I kept that to myself.

“They’re still trying to contact him,” I said, “let me guess, dad never paying much attention to you?”

“H-he’s always busy…” Erick said quietly, “sir.” he added.

I scoffed, laughing a bit at the irony of it. I hoped Allard wasn’t going to draw this out on purpose. I was already bored out of my mind, and I was getting tired of hiding my face one way or another every time I let him use the bucket in the corner, removing the blindfold for that so I didn’t have to clean up any messes.

“Let’s do something to pass the time,” I said, putting the book I’d been trying to read aside and getting up.

“...how much time has passed, s-sir?” Erick asked.

“Too much,” I said, finding a large knife in the back of my van, taking it out its leather sheath to check its sharpness. “And I’m bored shitless…”

“S-so like…a game?” Erick asked.

“Oh it’s a game alright,” I said, ignoring his slip-up, “one of my favourites…”

Erick gulped visibly, and I smirked as I picked up a new coil of rope and approached him, pressing the flat end of the blade against the teen’s cheek.

“Don’t. Try. Anything.”

“Mnn…y-yes sir!” Erick quickly said.

I pressed a bit harder as extra warning, before pulling away and using the knife to cut his hands free. He didn’t dare move beyond the trembling which he had no control over. I pulled his hands in front of him and began latching them to the armrests of his chair, using as much rope as I had available, so he couldn’t move his arms much more than an inch.

“W-what are you doing?”

“You’ll see,” I said, “or rather…you’ll feel.”

After tying the final knot, I lit up a cigarette, taking a long draw before moving back over to my van to gather the right tools. Erick seemed to sense something was up, as he began sobbing and struggling more. I didn’t grace him with a response, for now, I was looking for a better knife.

When I found one that wasn’t too big and handled nicely, I searched my van for something to clean it with. I had to settle for some bleach, pouring it into a cup and letting the knife soak for a minute before drying it off with a paper towel.

My cigarette was almost at its end, but I held it between my lips, breathing in the last bits of smoke as I picked up a pair of pliers and approached the teen, one tool in each hand. I put the pliers in his lap, eliciting a fearful gasp from the kid, before taking the cigarette and pressing the lit end against his exposed collarbone to extinguish it.

“O-ow!” Erick choked out in a terrified sob.

I chuckled, tossing the remains aside and putting my free hand on his shoulder, slowly feeling up the tension in his muscles, the cold sweat on the back of his neck, the tremors in his upper arm… I moved as slowly as I could, trying to draw out the moment.

Fear of the unknown, it was my favourite moment, just before I would have to make my hands dirty… The boy’s breath picked up as I slowly trailed my hand down his right arm. I could feel my own heart rate rise as I pried his index finger from his hand and put some pressure on it, keeping it flat and still on the armrest.

“P-please,” Erick said quietly, “p-please don’t…”

I ignored him, dragging the cold blade of the knife down his finger and towards his nail, not putting enough pressure on to cut it, I just wanted him to know I had something sharp in my hand, now slowly following the lines of his nail bed with the tip.

“N-no…no, no! P-please— AH!”

He cried out more in shock than pain as I started cutting the edges around his nails. Very slowly, very deliberately, not too deep, but just deep enough…

“You think that hurts?” I said, just loud enough to be audible over the boy’s sobbing, “let me show you what real pain is…”

I picked up the pliers from the boy’s lap, eliciting a fearful cry as he could guess what was about to happen next. Using the tip of the knife, I lifted his nail slightly, still moving slowly, drawing out long cries of pain and terror. Then I clamped the pliers on the end of his nail, and began to pull.

“Holy shit,” I said to myself an hour later.

I had stepped outside for some fresh air, enjoying the last cigarette of today’s pack. I could just about hear the boy sobbing through the closed garage door, or was that just his voice echoing in my head? I looked down at my hands, realising they were still covered in blood.

It felt like I was coming down from a very rare kind of high, the kind I’d only managed to achieve maybe once or twice before. I felt the sticky blood between my fingers; tasted it as I took another drag. The strong iron taste brought me back to earth a bit. I shook my head and walked over to the maintenance building near the entrance to wash my hands.

When I returned the boy was immediately on edge, his bloody hand shaking uncontrollably, ropes around his arms dug in so deep they drew even more blood, the blindfold stuck to his face, wet from tears and sweat, his voice raspy and weak.

“N-no! Nononono!” he sobbed, shaking his head as he fruitlessly pulled against his restraints.

I approached him, watching him freeze up when I stuck out my hand and brushed the side of his face, grabbing a hold of his blindfold and taking it off. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden light, trembling as he leaned away from me. I grabbed a hold of his jaw, squeezing until his lips pursed.

“Look at me.”

He slowly cracked them open, grey, watery eyes peering up at me. I loosened my grip a little, but didn’t let go yet.

“I’m going to cut you free,” I said, “you’re going to behave and I’ll patch up your hand a bit, understood?”

“Y-yes, s-sir…” the teen whimpered.

I gave him a last warning squeeze before letting go, finding a knife and beginning to cut him free. He flinched as the knife sawed through the ropes easily. How tempting it was to let it slip, cut him up just a little bit more — But he was hurt enough for now, and the knife wasn’t sterilised. I wasn’t going to risk infection, Allard wouldn’t appreciate him being dead.

“Shut up,” I sighed as a few more pathetic whimpers crept free from the boy, until I pulled the last of the ropes off of him, discarding them on the floor.

“Don’t move.”

It seemed the fight had been ripped out of him as he didn’t dare lift a finger even after I stepped away to grab a first aid kit from my van, checking it for disinfectant.

“Hold this.”

I placed the kit on his lap so I had my hands free to pull over a small stool so I could sit down before getting started.

“This is gonna sting,” I warned, allowing him to whine all he liked as I dripped the disinfectant on his fingers, shushing him a little when he got too loud.

“Just hold still,” I said, trying to bandage his fingers, “you see that box of paracetamol? If you let me finish, you can have one.”

I’m not sure how effective that bribe was. The teen still seemed torn between following my rules and pulling away from me, blubbing something that sounded like ‘yes, sir,’ whilst barely daring to look at me still. I ignored him for now, fixing the bandages into place before letting go and putting the first aid kit back into the van.

While in there, I looked inside one of my bags, pulling out a length of chain. It was fairly long and only a little heavy when all bunched up, but it was sturdier than ropes, I’d been using it for years. It had a sturdy shackle on one end and a decent padlock on the other.

I carried it over to Erick, making him jump as I dropped the chain on the floor with a loud clatter. He pressed back in the chair, holding his bandaged hand against his chest as he eyed me and the chain at his feet.

“Relax, it doesn’t bite,” I said, rolling my eyes a bit as I crouched down to untie his feet and shackle his left ankle to the chain. Granted, it might’ve pinched him a little, but I wasn’t going to start feeling sorry for him now.

“Get up,” I said, tugging on the chain a bit to get the kid to follow me.

He stumbled to his feet, sheepishly following. There was some piping by the back wall. I wasn’t sure what it was for at first glance, but it seemed sturdy enough. I looped the chain around the piping, guesstimating the distance to the van and making it short enough that the teen couldn’t reach my van before padlocking it in place.

“There,” I said, walking back to the van, “you behave yourself, okay?”

I picked up my pack of cigarettes, sliding one out and lighting it, glancing back at the teen to see him standing by the piping, looking a little lost and unsure. As if not being tied up felt foreign to him.

“Did you hear me, kid?”

“A-ah, um… er…y-yes sir,” the teen uttered. I decided to let it slide for now. My phone was ringing anyway.

“What do you mean it’s two weeks now?!” I snapped.

I had stepped outside to take the call after seeing Allard’s name on the screen. I could swear I could hear his smug fucking grin in his voice as he explained.

“Mr James seems to think we’ll get bored if he ignores us for long enough, but I decided to give him another week to respond. Maybe he’ll do better with some motivation? You don’t mind getting your hands dirty, don’t you~?”

“Uh…yeah that’s no problem,” I said, thinking back to earlier for a moment, “what did you have in mind?”

“Nothing too extreme,” Allard said, “but certainly something we can send.”

“As long as it’s bloody, right?” I said. Good thing I hadn’t tossed out the nails yet.

“Yeah that’ll do,” Allard said, probably having even less savoury ideas.

“Fine, but the extra week is gonna cost ya,” I said, “at least half of the current amount extra.”

“I’ll let my bookkeeper know,” Allard said, “ta~”

I rolled my eyes as he hung up, putting my phone back into my pocket, taking a last drag of my cigarette before heading back inside. The teen had taken a seat on the floor by the piping, not daring to stray too far from where I had left him, peering at me fearfully as I cleaned up a bit more before preparing Allard’s stupid reminder.

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[whumpsmith]

OC Talk~

Erick James

Erick is a classic whumpee, getting hurt over and over and over and over and over and—

More about he under the cut

CW: abuse, neglect, eating disorder, sexual assault, human trafficking, Stockholm syndrome (platonic or familial I guess)

Erick first shows up as the second main character in Villain's View, where he gets kidnapped for ransom, but his life as a whumpee starts long before that. Being born to a wannabe rich and narcisistic asshole of a father and an enabling mother he's always lived under a lot of pressure to be perfect.

Things got worse after his mother died when he was eight or nine and he would've been alone if he hadn't made a friend at her funeral. Initially he only sees his friend in school and other social situations where he has to put on a mask and pretend everything is fine and well, but when he's at home with no visitors around, his father won't even look at him.

To cope with the stress and loss and loneliness, Erick develops bulimia at age twelve with a pattern of binge eating followed by purging. His friend eventually notices and gets him to see a therapist, paid for by his parents so Erick's father won't find out.

When he's fifteen he's finally beginning to recover when his life turns completely upside down when he's violently kidnapped by Chase Fetcher. He watches his best friend get shot as he's dragged into a van, never to be seen again.

In captivity, he quickly learns to appease his kidnapper by following his rules, following orders, and taking abuse and torture without complaint. Days turn into weeks and he slowly learns more and more about his kidnapper while waiting for his ransom to be paid so he can go home. He also learns to trust him after being saved from being sexually assaulted, being taken care of when he catches an infection, and especially when his kidnapper stops his client from trafficking Erick when the ransom continues to not be paid.

After finding out that his father never bothered to get him back, thinking his only friend didn't survive, and the only other person who had shown a smidgeon of care in years being his kidnapper, Erick refuses to leave when he gets the chance to go. He feels indebted to his kidnapper and wants to make that up to him, even if that means having to tolerate more abuse and possibly never being free again.

Thus forming the dynamic duo of Villain's View and the AU spin-off Your Move, My Move, and Our Move.

[orengejoshi]

I ensued chaos and despair with this in the utopia that is twt, now I'm gonna toss it at y'all too to make sure every last one gets this burned into their retinas

Bonus:

If you feel dysphoric, consider Flug's wisdom🫡 You're cool as hell

[benevolenterrancy]

May your hardened heart be woken By the soft and distant song Of all you left here unspoken All the shards we keep stepping on - Take this body home Take this body home Call the wind, and let her know Take this life outgrown Take this broken soul Call the stars, call them all And take it high, take it far, take it home

[cumforts69]

i forgot i made this help

[piosplayhouse]

Cue Olivia Newton-John Physical

Equality version:

[worldsokayestmagicalgirl]

Day 9 : Embrace

Yeah uh, so Oro Genese's LiuShen Wrecking Ball anamatic is probably my Favorite Anamatic Ever™ and I've wanted to pay tribute to it for a long time. It's not in my normal wheelhouse so I took a long time actually trying to understand anatomy before taking a shot at it.

Over all, I'm pretty happy with it. I'm definitely more of a fluff than spice artist so I think taking a step out of my comfort zone every once in a while is good for me. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ANYWAY GO WATCH THE ANAMATIC ON YOUTUBE IT'S GREAT 💕

Prompt list by jamiedraws on Instagram

[mylittleredgirl]

i’m not going to say the stargate atlantis crew deserve everything bad that happens to them but they deserve at least 40%. probably like 75%.

[villainsview]

Chapter 1

All Stories Start Somewhere

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All stories start somewhere, but the beginning isn’t always as interesting, so let’s cut right to the chase. That’s also my name, Chase Fetcher, but you’ll find most people just call me Fetch. Now, let’s rush over the important stuff you need to know.

I got my medical degree in the army

I found out black market organ trade pays much better than a monthly salary

I got busted and lost everything, but people still wanted my services

I’m a quick study and expanded my expertise

Now I’m a modern-day mercenary specialised in kidnapping, “gentle” persuasion, organ harvesting and...waste disposal.

Now, to the interesting part. I thought it would just be a simple kidnapping. Peter Allard, a big shot in the Phoenix underworld, had some beef with Harrison James, a mediocre but strangely successful businessman. It was probably something about money. I didn’t really care. All I knew was that it was about a sum of three million dollars in ransom and my ten percent cut. All I had to do was snatch up James’ son and hold onto him until the ransom was paid. It would be simple, fast, and have a decent payoff in relation to the difficulty.

But of course it was too good to be true. I hit the first snag while I was stalking the target before abducting him. He was fifteen years old and attended a private school, which I preferred to stay away from. Snatching him at home would be unwise as well, which left me with his commute from home to school and back, because he didn’t come outside much besides that. It wouldn’t have been a problem, if it weren’t for his fucking friend. They were always together outside of school, playing around a bit before parting ways at James’ home. I almost considered just grabbing them both, especially upon finding out the friend would be worth a lot more money, but more money usually meant more trouble. In the end I decided to just eliminate the factor...literally.

It was the day to act. I had the two teens in my sight. I needed to get the blond one in my van, and I had to get rid of the redhead. The pair turned into the alley where they usually hung out after school to kick cans while the redhead secretly smoked. It was a quiet street and an even quieter alley, so all I had to do was park my van by the entrance, and carefully sneak up on them. They both had their backs turned. The redhead was poking a dead rat with a plastic tube he’d probably fished from the trash.

“Matt, stop that, it’s gross,” the blond teen said, holding his shirt over his mouth and nose to avoid having to smell anything.

“You’re not the least bit curious?” the redhead replied, poking a bit more.

“I think I’m going to throw up…”

That was my cue to act. I didn’t want to clean up vomit out of my van again, so I had to distract him from getting sick. The actual kidnapping ought to do the trick. I pulled my gun from its holster under my jacket, taking a couple quiet steps closer as I aimed at the redhead, before pulling the trigger.

BANG

“MATT?!”

The teen released a horrified shriek before I was able to silence him, slapping a hand over his mouth and pressing the gun against his back as I pulled him away from his bleeding friend.

“One more peep and you’ll join your friend in heaven,” I threatened. The boy whimpered, but other than that he settled down a bit, even as I dragged him towards my van, only weakly pulling at my hand which covered his mouth. Upon reaching my van, I swiftly opened the side door and shoved him inside, hopping in after and closing the door to conceal us from sight. The teen pulled himself from my grip and tried to crawl away, but I pulled him back by his ankle, reaching for a roll of tape.

“N-no—” 

It was a brief struggle, but by the end of it I had the boy silenced with a couple strips of tape and had him pinned against the floor of the van as I tightly cuffed his hands behind his back, before padlocking them to a ring in the floor so he couldn’t crawl anywhere else.

“Mmn!”

“Shut up!” I hissed.

I could hear sirens approach, probably alerted by the gunshot, but still added another strip of tape over his eyes for good measure. I gave him a warning slap when he made a little too much noise, before quickly getting behind the wheel and driving off, blending into traffic to avoid any suspicion. An ambulance did rush past me, but I didn’t really see where it went as I was trying to remember the way back to the hideout my client had arranged. North of the city there was a storage lot that had closed down a couple years ago after it went bankrupt. The new owner hadn’t done anything with it...as far as the city was concerned, but apparently Allard rented it out a lot for things like this.

“Mgh!”

“Keep quiet back there! Don’t make me pull over to beat some sense into you!”

I glared at the boy over my shoulder while I could permit it. He’d fallen to his side, pulling uselessly on the cuffs holding him in place. I rolled my eyes, deciding to ignore him for the rest of the drive as I turned the radio up so I could still enjoy some music over his muffled sobbing and snivelling.

When I arrived at the storage lot, I unlocked the fence with the key Allard had sent me and drove my van to the block of units in the back of the lot, the furthest from the road. Away from anyone that might try to play hero. I could park my van inside one of the larger units, making sure I had room to get out and open the side door as well, though not until I had closed the garage door, concealing everything from sight. When I opened the side door to get Erick out, he was still lying on his side, trying to stay quiet even though his breath picked up as he could hear me right in front of him. I slowly put my hand on his shoulder to keep him down, eliciting a terrified whimper. Music to my ears. I tried not to grin too much as I put a little pressure on him to lean over him and free him from the hook attached to his cuffs. I moved my hand to grab his arm and pull him upright, expecting a fight, but he stayed nice and quiet.

“Up!” I said, pushing his legs to the edge of the van’s floor so he could find his footing before I dragged him out.

I had prepared a couple things for him; a nice chair to tie him to, and the ropes to tie him with. I pushed him down into the chair, to which the boy finally seemed to wake up. He tried to get back to his feet, so I quickly grabbed him by his jaw to snuff out his little resistance.

“Give it up, kiddo, you’ve got nowhere to run,” I growled.

He sobbed defeated and settled down, allowing me to pick up a coil of rope and get to work. I tied his wrists behind his back before undoing the cuffs and putting them aside. I looped the leftover end of rope around the back of the chair twice, before tying it off in a tight knot. I moved to his ankles and tied each to a leg of the chair before ripping the tape off of his mouth. He winced, but didn’t dare to make any other sounds as he took a few ragged breaths. I found a blindfold in my bag before I ripped the tape off of his eyes too, drawing out a yelp. I tied the blindfold over his eyes before he had the chance to blink his eyes open.

“P-please,” he uttered in a soft voice, “l-let me go, please...I— I won’t tell anyone, I promise...please…”

I rolled my eyes, his pleads falling on deaf ears as I grumbled back at him.

“Shut up.”

Erick choked back a sob and held his breath until I stepped away. I had to call Allard to let him know I had the kid, and I could use a smoke.

“Very good, Fetch. I expected nothing less of you,” Allard said after I brought him the news over the phone, “my men will take care of the ransom, as per usual, in the meantime you try to keep yourself busy. I’m sure you can manage that much.”

“I’m confident I can,” I replied, looking back over my shoulder at Erick.

I wasn’t sure if he could hear me, but I didn’t really care if he could. He was fidgeting nervously, testing the strength of the ropes that held him in place, trying to reach the knot that kept the ligature around his wrists in place. But he couldn’t reach it. His breath picked up as a wave of panic took over him. I smirked, flicking the leftover butt of my cigarette aside as I hung up and quietly approached the teen. I slowly stepped behind him, and put my hand on his shoulder, to which he jumped and held his breath. I could see the cold sweat dripping down his neck as he was torn between staying absolutely still and wanting to pull away.

“W-who are you?” he suddenly choked out, “w-what do you want?”

“It’s not about what I want,” I replied, putting my other hand on his other shoulder, watching how his chest rose and fell faster with each breath.

I grinned to myself, squeezing his shoulders a bit as I thought about all the things I could do to him. Allard only paid me to keep him alive, he never said I couldn’t leave him with a couple…souvenirs. I detached myself from the boy and walked over to my van. Right behind the driver’s seat, stood a coolbox, filled with half-molten ice and bottles of water. I took a bottle from the cooler and walked back to Erick. I pressed the cold plastic against his cheek, eliciting a yelp of surprise and fear. I chucked, before unscrewing the cap and putting the lip to his mouth, but he turned his head away. I rolled my eyes.

“C’mon, it’s just water,” I said, “you’re gonna need it, kiddo.”

“W-why?”

I ignored him and grabbed his jaw, savouring his scared whimper for a good few seconds, before once again placing the lip of the bottle against his lips, and tilting it, so he had no choice but to drink, or choke in it.

“Mrrrgn— cough!”

He regurgitated a few sips and coughed, trying to turn his head away, but I grabbed a tighter hold of his jaw, tilting his head back while tilting the bottle further, pouring more water down his throat, not letting go until the bottle was empty. I stepped aside as I did, to which the teen coughed up more water and gasped for air, leaning forward a bit and soaking his shirt. I chuckled, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting a new one.

“Now,” I said, “to answer your question earlier…” I took a drag of my cigarette, slowly blowing out the smoke before continuing. “Your dad owes my client some money, so you and I will be spending some time together until he pays up.”

“A-are you going to kill me…?” Erick choked out between sobs.

“Nah I’m being paid to keep you alive, why else would I waste water on you?” I said.

“B-but Matt…”

“Who— Oh, your friend. He got in my way,” I said.

“I-Is he going to…?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” I said, “no more questions.”

“But—”

“Rule number one!” I said loudly, talking over him, “if you’re not gagged, only speak when spoken to.”

Erick winced as I raised my voice, quickly nodding. I took another drag of my cigarette, blowing the smoke into his face, watching him choke back a cough.

“Rule two. If you’re not gagged, I prefer verbal answers. I’m not always looking straight at you, so a lil confirmation of you listening would be nice. Understood?”

“Mh…y-yes?” Erick said quietly. I rolled my eyes.

“Hasn’t anyone taught you any manners?” I said, “let’s make that rule three. You’ll address me as sir, understood? Try again.”

“W-why are you doing this?”

“Answer the question!” I shouted, making the teen jump, “do you understand the rules?”

“Y-yes sir!” Erick quickly said, trying to shrink in the chair, but being held back by the ropes.

“That’s more like it,” I said, “the rest is simple, kiddo. You behave, I don’t get mad, and by the end of the week you’ll be back home and we can both forget all about this.”

I took a long last drag of my cigarette, before smirking as I looked at the smouldering end.

“Well, maybe not everything,” I added, before extinguishing it on the teen’s neck.

“OW! P-please, I’ll be good, please!” the boy cried, trying to pull away.

I chuckled, flicking the extinguished remains away while I allowed him to sob. He was just coming to terms with his situation. I could silence him later.

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[cruelplatonic]

my personal headcanon is the vees were unremarkable nobodies when they were alive. i just love it as a thematic throughline for them. they love to let the public of hell speculate on them being famed and acclaimed since before death, but the the truth is they were a d-list failed influencer that got by on cheap controversey and scamming, a broke junkie who burned every shaky bridge he ever had, and a worn-out broadcast production assistant with more rejected auditions and tossed out script pitches than he could count. nobody missed them when they were gone, nobody cared who they were until they were dead.

[whumpsmith]

Oc Talk~

Keira Thorne

Femme fatale - but complex

More about she under the cut

Keira is unfortunately a background character. Classic sexy gun-wielding, motorcycle-driving, tattoo and red lipstick-wearing bisexual icon who seduces horrible men and takes them for everything they're worth before showing their wives what pleasure really is and setting her up for life with insurance money from the now-dead husbands.

She makes an appearance in Villain's View twice. First as a client; she hires Fetch to pick up a target so she can dispose of him quickly. Then a second time as she's hired to bring Fetch before his other client.

She makes a more prominent appearance in the YMO AU and maybe she'll make a return in the VV sequel, but I'm not too sure about that yet.

My favourite things about her are her knowledge about engines, how she signs cards and letters with just a print of her lips with fresh lipstick, the butterfly tattoo spanning her throat and collar bones, and how she always seems to hoard all the braincells in a group. She's the voice of reason with a gun so fortunately people tend to listen.

Look forward to her appearance in the story here~

[obliviouskara]

”You luthors are all the same!”

lena: I take offence at that. I still have all my hair.

hdkskdjd i love this fic and i love how lena’s portrayed in this fic

[ofswordsandpens]

im rereading the lightning thief and I forgot that the other campers were so freaked by Percy after he had been claimed + decimated those Ares kids that they wouldn't train with him anymore and he had to have solo sword lessons with Luke

[benevolenterrancy]

what I'm learning is that MXTX series really have ☆*: .｡The Range｡.:*☆ and that my first impressions often don't survive for very long...

MDZS, initial impression: ooh revived necromancer that everyone fears, this is going to be dark and revenge-fuelled

MDZS, subsequent impression: these are Silly Lil Guys off on a romcom murder mystery

SVSSS first impression: nerd who got isekai'd into a shitty novel, crybaby puppy dog imprints on him

SVSSS subsequent impression: how many times now has the love interest tortured the main character? should I start a tally?

(i've only just finished SVSSS bk2, please no spoilers!!)

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

Basically Roman and Virgil in my White Lies AU:

Roman, looking intensely in a mirror in his room: I just... Need someone to be my friend. Someone who will listen to and support me, who won't betray my trust and break down my confidence when I don't agree with them... Someone who also kinda hates Janus... Someone to binge watch Disney movies with me...

Virgil "chilling" in his own room alone in the dark side: *sits up and looks around suspiciously* I feel like something is calling me

[goldenshrikecomic]

Question for you! What makes Nero an appealing character for you specifically as a creator? I love to hear people's thoughts on their fictional bebes :]

I love writing his kind of characters. I love love love portraying flawed mindsets, bad behavior born from insecurity, characters who have tunnel vision and anger management issues, straight up selfishness, greed, desperation, struggles to fit in with kind and considerate people. Not saying Nero has all of these, but I love musing about these characters the most. Which honestly sucks because there's this ridiculous and loud mindset going around calling these characters out, and their writers with them. It's ILLEGAL to enjoy morally grey characters, god forbid they're villains, and man it's so tiring to see. Sometimes it feels like baby sensory videos are the only safe media to consume.

BUT on the topic of Nero, I just get him. I get his train of thought, and while I don't agree with how unfair and offensive he is, I get where he comes from and where the anger stems from. He's the easiest character for me to write. There's a lot to him that is still unexplored in the comic, I can't talk about that. But those parts of him are very important. I also really like his design, he's a joy to draw.