#for a little villainy a little mayhem

[palespawn]

ok but consider ascended astarion but his features become more bat-like when experiencing extreme emotions, like giving into anger, in the midst of a fight or hunting, because

[dilatorywriting]

Valentine's Day Special: Let Them Fight

GN!Reader x Malleus Draconia vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Who knew that in a world of magic, and mayhem, and outright villainy, that it'd be something as stupid as Valentine's Day that would push these idiots over the edge. Or, Malleus, Azul, and Vil go to war over some chocolates

A/N: This MC/Plot takes place in the Heroes vs Villains universe -- specifically Post-Staff's route, rather than any of our other lovely idiot husbands.

There was always some sort of strange overlap of customs from your world to this one. Halloween seemed to have survived more or less intact (even if it was a bit more, uh, extreme than the subtle evening of giving out treats and dressing as ghosts that you remembered). Winter Holidays were still very much a Thing, even if all other connotations had been stripped from them. Moreover, it was like someone had taken your familiar Earthen calendar and just sort of… mirrored it. Distorted it a bit. Just a lil’ bit more chaos than would have been socially acceptable back home.

So when you made a sly little joke about stocking up on discount chocolates after the Valentine’s Day rush and no one laughed—not even a little chortle, or an irritable eyeroll—you initially thought it was maybe to do with the irrationality of Sam’s Shop ever having a sale to begin with. You had not assumed that, you know, there was no Valentine’s Day at all.

“It’s an important holiday, then? Where you’re from?” Azul mused, busy scribbling endless, chicken scratch, notes in the margins of some form that was probably very important.

“I mean, not really,” you frowned, tossing your Mostro-Branded apron onto its hook. “Maybe. Yes? I don’t really know, actually.”

He hummed and moved to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Well, whatever it is, I’m always looking for new events to host at the Lounge. What exactly is it?”

“It’s a sort of special day for couples. Romance. Lovey-dovey nonsense,” you shrugged, and watched Azul’s finger slip off the slick metal frame of his glasses and nearly take his eye out. You waved off his obvious disgust with a dramatic sigh (I mean, why else would he be so stiff and red?). “Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“I—I never said that!” he spluttered, and then paused to cough into his fist and clear his throat. “It just—I just wasn’t expecting something like that to…”

“Exist?”

He grinned, wry. His cheeks were still a bit too pink. “Precisely.”

“You would have loved my world,” you said. “Very capitalistic. Lots of cash-grab holidays like that.”

Azul laughed.

“I’m sure I would be fond of any place you came from.” He paused, and his expression puckered up a bit miserably—like he really hadn’t intended to express such a sentiment aloud. But he managed to smooth the sharp line of his frown back into that usual, smarmy, smirk of his easily enough. “But either way! Tell me more!” he grinned, reaching forward to grab a stack of blank paper and a fresh pen. “I’d love to hear all about it.”

.

.

The next day you were supposed to help the Drama Club start building some stage scenery for their newest play. It was proper grunt work, which was perhaps the only sort of work you were actually qualified for. And Vil always made sure that there were plenty of disgustingly healthy but still quite tasty snacks available for the help to munch on. The food spread alone would have been worth the trip, but on top of that, Vil had made you promise. Practically a blood oath, binding you and your meager free time to the shitty supply closet in the corner of the Auditorium. And as sour as he could be sometimes, you really could never say no to him when he always looked so heart meltingly fond whenever you did agree to while away the hours at his side. That lovely face and even lovelier smile of his were fucking lethal. A war crime, surely, to use it against someone as plain and susceptible to bribery as you were.

But today you were now an idiot on a mission—an idiot determined to spread the joy of a trashy holiday that really probably shouldn’t exist in the first place, let alone in a world where people worshipped storybook villains as veritable deities. And you’d already bought all the molds, and the trays, and you really didn’t have a lot of spare pocket money to begin with, so letting this investment go to waste would not only be a shame, but a terrible business investment.

“What do you mean you’re not coming,” Vil sneered, glaring down his perfectly straight nose at you.

“I really am sorry,” you said, mostly genuine. “But I have something I need to do this afternoon.”

“You’ve made other plans?” he frowned, something a little too unsettled to fit with his usual regality twisting across his expression.

“I have to get ready for Valentine’s Day,” you explained, and his brow tugged down further. Though that earlier twinge of panic seemed to have vanished at least. You pointedly shook your grocery bag full of goodies. “I’m going to make chocolates for everyone.”

“Chocolates?” Vil echoed, confused.

You nodded. “It’s a tradition back home. You give stuff like candy and flowers to the people you care about. Normally it’s a holiday for couples, or whatever. But. Well…”

The ‘I Am Fully Aware That I’m Single as a Pringle, Please Just Let Me Have This One Thing’ was left unsaid, but it hung in the air around your head like a very persistent storm cloud nonetheless. Vil, magnanimously, seemed perfectly happy to ignore the Woe Is Me implications spewing from your mouth. Instead, he leaned forward until he was dipping precariously close into your personal space. His amethyst eyes had lit with blatant interest at your ramblings, and he hummed low in his throat.

“Is that so?” he mused, gaze lidded and warm. “That sounds… intriguing.”

You nodded past the heady scent of his cologne fogging your head. What was it with attractive people, huh? It was so unfair. You don’t get to look and smell good. Pick a lane. Save some dignity for the rest of us.

“So, I promise I’ll help another day. I just have a feeling making chocolates is going to wind up being a lot harder than I think it will.”

Because that’s how it always went in your stupid slice-of-life shows. The poor, harried, protagonist thinking they’re doing a good deed—painstakingly constructing their own, special, homemade goodies for all their important people. Making them with love. And then having it all blow up in their face like a goddamn, cocoa flavored, nuke. Nope. Not you, motherfucker. Your chocolates were going to be divine. You were going to take every, tropey, precaution in the book. And that of course included allotting yourself ample time to make mistakes your masterpiece.

“Of course,” Vil grinned. “How could I possibly begrudge you for wanting to spend your time on something so heartfelt?”

“Thank you,” you blurted, relived. Because at least he got it. Azul had been so ridiculously insistent that you should prepare all your Valentine’s Day wishes as a team. Which was not the point. He’d spent hours last night trying to wheedle his way into your plans—with endless platitudes about ‘business partners always being there for each other,’ and ‘how would he know if he was celebrating to your standards if he wasn’t given a model to work off of first?’ Utter bullshit. He’d probably just wanted free labor.

“Tomorrow, then?” Vil beamed and you nodded.

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed.

“Well, then,” he hummed. “I better get to work as well. I suppose the scenery can wait.”

You nodded in farewell and began the trek back to Ramshackle and its marginally functional kitchens. You hadn’t realized Vil was taking on any new projects, but if it was enough to have him putting off the Club’s activities as well then it must have been pretty important. Maybe he’d get you tickets to it whenever he finished—whatever it was. If there were tickets? How did any of the things he did actually work? Hell if you knew.

.

.

Making chocolates was, in fact, a laughably easy endeavor. And you found yourself cursing every goddamn Shoujo Bullshit Manga under the sun for leading you to think otherwise. The hardest part of the entire thing was fighting off Grim and his wandering paws.

You made up some basic truffles which were, again, stupidly simple. Just some messily chopped chocolate, cream, and a little splash of vanilla to make it Special. Once those were shaped into messy blobs, you dipped them into some more melted chocolate and bam. That was it. That was literally it. You felt like a genius—sitting there mushing up balls of cocoa like high-end playdough.

By 6PM, you had all your little darlings tucked into the refrigerator to harden, all the gauzy, red, boxes lined up on your counter and ready to be filled, and Grim had been placated with an offering of all your dirty mixing bowls. The tiny, demonic, beast was passed out at the dingy kitchen table—one of said bowls wedged onto his head like an astronaut’s helmet. Hopefully it was just a food coma and not, like, an actual coma-coma. Real cats couldn’t eat chocolate, but Grim never really seemed real at all. So hopefully he’d be fine.

You wiped down your cooking space once, twice. Paced up and down the narrow hallway until you were wearing away the already threadbare rugs, and spent way too long just standing in front of the fridge—staring in on your chocolates like a psychotic kidnapper scoping out their next victims.

Eventually you realized that you maybe needed to do something with your evening that wasn’t just creeping on your confections, and set out into the frosty, night, air for a stroll.

Which is, of course, where you ran into your familiar, horned, friend—staring up into the starry sky in a wistful manner that darkened his pale complexion into something nearly ominous. He always looked a bit like that, like something unearthly and detached from the rest of the world.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped happily, and that adrift-at-sea expression of his melted right off his face.

“Child of Man,” he greeted, inclining his head politely. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening.” His brow furrowed, almost confused. “Is it not too cold for you?”

Your breath was, in fact, fogging in front of your face. And you couldn’t really feel your toes anymore. But the electric anticipation of tomorrow was keeping you warm enough. Even if only in spirit.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you waved him off. And then, because you couldn’t help yourself, you leaned forward on your tippytoes and blurted out, “Happy Almost Valentine’s Day!”

“Valentine’s Day?” Malleus repeated back at you, looking like you’d just handed him an unsolvable differential equation.

“It’s a holiday from back home,” you explained for the umpteenth time that day. “And normally I’m not too fussed about it, but this year I’m really excited to give everyone their chocolates!” You grinned. “And you too, of course. I have to make sure I give them to all my important people.”

The furrow between his brows vanished, but the blatant, gaping, confusion remained. He looked like you’d nearly startled him into an early grave.

“I am one of your most important people?” he asked, slow as a tortoise making its way up an incline.

You nodded cheerfully, still bellied by your earlier culinary successes and excellent mood. “Of course you are! We’re friends, aren’t we? And besides. Valentine’s Day is for showing people how much you care about them.”

“What an interesting concept,” he mused, bringing a finger up to tap at his chin. “To think your world had such a heartfelt tradition—it’s quite a lovely surprise.”

You laughed. “If you think the chocolates are special, you should see what some couples do for each other. Rooms full of flowers, fancy date nights—I’m just managing the bare minimum.”

“Couples?” he echoed, and you felt the first teeny, hot, thread of chagrin work its way past your enthusiasm.

“Well, normally Valentine’s Day focuses on, like, romantic things,” you said, averting your gaze just in time to miss the tension lance through his shoulders. “But it can be for all sorts of affection!” you hastily added.

“Is that so…” the Prince hummed. He lifted his pensive gaze once more and stared you down with that weighted intensity that you’d only just recently learned how not to buckle beneath. “And you wish to celebrate this day. With me?”

“…you don’t mind, do you?” you asked, hesitant.

“Of course not, Child of Man,” he beamed, his lips curling up into a smile that put all his too-sharp teeth on display. “But you’ll have to excuse me now, I’m afraid. It seems I have some preparations to undertake this evening.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yes,” Malleus said. “You will.”

.

.

It was officially Valentine’s Day, and you were ready to begin your mission of forcing your sweets onto every, single, one of your reluctant friends. Let them be pissy and tsundere. You weren’t afraid to weep and proclaim your undying, shounen-talk-no-jutsu, levels of friendship. Okay. Maybe you were a little. But these grouchy bastards had very easily become your grouchy bastards, and so help you God, they would suffer under your affection and they would like it.

There were plenty of small boxes—all nice, neat, corners with little bows perched on top. But you had also prepared a singular, larger, tray. It was cleaner cut than the rest, with bold, contrasting, colors and a simple elegance. You stared it down with a strange sort of disquiet brewing in your gut. Maybe you were being presumptuous. Goodness knows you’d more than dealt with the searing, emotionally destructive, consequences of that before. But all the same…

You squared your shoulders and spent a moment convincing yourself that your spine was quite sturdy—a proper, titanium, support system—and then popped the Big Box into the bag with the others.

Your first stop was Heartslabyul, and you burst through the ornate, crimson, doors like a manic home invader.

“I come bearing gifts,” you proclaimed, merrily doling out the boxes to your favorite idiot duo. You set three more aside, with little labels for Riddle, Trey, and Cater respectively. Normally you wouldn’t trust a dorm full of teenage boys not to devour any scrap of unattended food in sight, but Riddle had long since struck the fear of God into these poor lads. So you figured it’d be safe.

Deuce’s face lit up and he accepted the chocolate with near starry-eyed enthusiasm.

“Are these your holiday presents? Like the Santa Claus?” he asked, looking very much like a bouncy golden retriever preparing itself for congratulatory head pats.

You leaned forward with an indulgent huff to give him his pats. “No. But close enough.”

You pawned off three boxes on Ruggie when he tried to duck past you in the hallway—one for him, one for Leona, and one extra as payment for making him do your dirty work of playing delivery boy to Mister Grump in the first place. You slipped Jack his on the way into Trein’s morning lecture, and managed to press a box into Jamil’s hands before he slunk off to the library. Kalim cheered so loudly when you handed him one that your ears started to ring.

And then trouble arrived in the form of two, slippery, eels draping themselves across your shoulders. Normally the destructive duo seemed to act on their own prerogative, but on this fortuitous morning their Lord and Master was surprisingly not too far behind.

“Shrimpy!~” Floyd trilled, dragging you into a one-armed hug that was really more of a slightly-less-aggressive headlock than anything else. “Azul says you came up with this stupid holiday! And he made us work all day yesterdayto put together stuff for the Lounge! It’s not fair!”

Your legs shook under the weight of the new tumor that had made its home on your back.

“Now, Floyd,” Jade chirped. All finely manicured cruelty. “If you’re to blame anyone for going overboard with this entire situation, you ought to lay the fault on our fearless leader.” His bi-colored eyes flashed, amused. “Isn’t that right, Azul?”

Said ‘fearless leader’ looked like he was sucking on a lemon. He glared bitterly at his subordinate, seeming to share an entire, silent, argument with him, before turning back on you with a heavy sigh and the barest hint of angry flush in his cheeks.

“Prefect,” he grinned past his obvious discomfort, all sparkling, white, teeth. “I have to thank you for sharing so much information about this ‘Valentine’s Day’ of yours. It’s such a unique event, and it seems like our preparations at the Lounge are already being received incredibly well.”

“That’s good,” you nodded, trying and failing to shrug the Leech off your shoulders. “I’m glad I could help.”

Azul hummed under his breath, his eyes darting away for a moment. His glasses reflected the muted light of the hall in an odd way—making it difficult to read his expression. He cleared his throat and when he looked back up at you, the tips of his ears had gone pink.

“You’re more than welcome to come by, of course,” he beamed, suave as could be.

“I mean,” you blinked. “I would hope so. I work there.”

Floyd let out a bark of laughter and Jade snickered into his glove. The pleasant pink tinting Azul’s skin was heating to a near sunburned red. He looked down and coughed into his fist.

“Yes…” he mumbled. “I—I’m aware. But what I meant is… What I meant—” He frowned. It was a tight, pouty, little thing that scrunched up his entire face. That mottled red had spread to the bridge of his nose.

“I do believe what Azul is trying to say,” Jade stepped in, clearly taking some sort of pity on his tongue-tied friend. Or perhaps pity was the wrong word for it, seeing how smug he looked, “is that he would like to invite you to the event personally. As an honored guest, not an employee.”

“Oh,” you blinked, startled. Then hesitated, cautious on instinct. There was always some sort of catch to the Octomer’s kindness. “I don’t know if I could afford whatever fancy thing you’ve thrown together.”

“You wouldn’t be paying for it,” Azul assured you, some of that sickly flush having finally started to recede from his cheeks. You hoped he was feeling alright. “You’ve contributed more than enough for the day. It would be on the house.”

Jade loudly cleared his throat and Azul huffed, eyes sliding away yet again.

“I would be paying,” he finally mumbled. And then, even quieter, “As I believe is the custom.”

Just as you were about to thank him for his startling bought of generosity (and also ask after his health, because between the weird, pink, tinge to his skin and the aforementioned generosity, clearly somethingwas out of sorts with him), you noticed a sneaky hand working its way into your bag of goodies, and you immediately were on the defensive.

“Hey!” you snapped, spinning out of Floyd’s stranglehold. “You only get one!”

“Then I want the really big one!” he demanded, making grabby motions at it.

“No!” you squeaked, and clutched it protectively to your chest. The trio looked at you with varying degrees of surprise and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “This one—This one is special.”

“Oh?” Jade cooed, eyes flickering back towards Azul, who seemed determined to look absolutely anywhere else. “Is it now?”

“Awww,” Floyd whined. “That’s no fair! Who’s it for, anyways?!”

You gripped the box tighter and now it was your turn to stiffly avert your eyes down to the ugly carpet. “It’s not—I’m not—” you cleared your throat and forced the jitter from your voice. “I’m not ready to give it to him yet.”

The silence that followed was absolutely the worst thing you’d experienced in a long, long, time. Overblots and all. You could practically hear your blood pounding in your ears. You were just about to turn and beat a hasty retreat when a familiar, snappish, voice called your name from the other side of the corridor.

“There you are, potato,” Vil huffed, coming to stand at your side and bodily inserting himself between you and your tormentors. He met Azul’s petulant sneer with a frankly terrifying one of his own. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed you’d be eating lunch with me today.”

You remembered no such thing, but if it got you out of this verbal minefield of a conversation, you were more than willing to take the claim at face value.

“Apologies,” Azul cut in with all his usual, mafioso, flair. “But the Prefect will be taking their afternoon meal at the Mostro Lounge today.”

“Is that so?” Vil hummed, sounding positively venomous.

“Unless you think you can make an offer good enough to sway them otherwise,” Azul chirped, equally as unpleasant.

Vil laughed—cold and sharp as crystal. It was the most elegant display of blatant irritation you’d ever seen.

“Of course you’d only consider this entire situation on a transactional basis,” he drawled, entirely unimpressed. Azul flinched and his expression screwed up into something near petulant. “I would expect no less. Are you planning to lock them into a contact too, hmm? Sign away everything in formal, sterile, terms?” Vil crossed his arms, and you were reminded sharply once more how very, very lucky you were to not be on his bad side (even if you hadn’t realized before all this that Azul apparently was on said bad side. You had no idea they disliked each other so terribly). “I really hadn’t expected you to have a single, romantic, bone in your body, and yet somehow I’m still disappointed to be proved so entirely correct.”

Azul looked ready to explode, and even though Jade and Floyd and melted back into the shadows at the start of this entire encounter, the pair of them were starting to look a bit murderous too—like sharks lazily circling the dark, ocean, depths.  

“Don’t you think you deserve better?” Vil asserted, turning back to face you with a soft cant of the head. You blinked back in shock.

“Uh,” you gaped, absolutely fucking lost.

And then, like a beacon of unrivaled, black-drenched, hope, you spotted Malleus making his way down the hallway. He was flanked by his trio of housemates-cum-pseudo-bodyguards. Normally you tried to leave him alone when his rabid, green-haired, guard dog was yipping at his heels, and on top of that, the idea of using your classmates’ ingrained fear of the Fae Prince to your own advantage upset your rather staunch sensibilities. But this was an emergency.

“Tsunotarou!” you called, and it absolutely sounded like the cry for help it was.

He perked up immediately and you watched him nearly crash to a standstill. And then his sharp, neon, gaze locked on the dueling Housewardens circling you like a pair of snapping wolves, and his merry expression shuttered into something positively glacial. Which was—Fuck. I mean. Come on. What the fuck was going on today—

“Child of Man,” he droned, crossing the short distance with all the grace of the near-mythical, arcane, master that he was. His posture was more collected and regal than you’d ever seen it, and he loomed all the taller for it.

Azul and Vil had gone tense at your side, one certainly more so than other. The Octomer looked incredibly unsettled at Malleus’s sudden arrival, but Vil just looked angrier. It was the sort of unpleasantness that bloomed whenever someone challenged him or his competencies over and over—inevitably pushing the normally composed beauty into an indignant rage.

“Happy Day of Valentine’s,” Malleus continued, slotting himself firmly into the veritable territory dispute going down. “Are you quite alright?”

No, you wanted to wail. No! I’m so confused! I have no idea what’s going on! I just wanted to give my friends chocolates!

But you never managed to get those words or any others past your lips, because Sebek Zigvolt shot to his master’s side with all the speed of the lightning for which he was so named, and immediately began to scream.

“HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT THE YOUNG MASTER’S AFTERNOON ROUTINE!” he shrieked at the top of his very impressive lungs.

You weren’t sure if he was howling at you (very likely) or just anyone who wasn’t Malleus, but Jade took the opportunity to slink forward from the shadows with a sharp tut-tut.

“Perhaps none of you deserve the Prefect’s special attentions,” he piped in, sounding very much like someone intentionally throwing a cannister of gasoline onto an already roaring fire. “Or any chocolates at all—let alone the ones set aside for someone special.”

At this, silence once more rang through the corridor and you wanted to throttle that stupid eel.

“There is a special box?” Malleus asked first, brow shooting up as his expression tugged with… something.

“I—I mean, I made all of yours special!” you defended, holding the wrapped treasure tightly to your chest. “But�� I guess. Yes. There’s one that’s a little bigger than the others.”

At this, all three Housewardens exchanged pointed looks.

Jade smiled serenely once more, and then continued his absolute massacre upon your person.

“Yes, indeed,” he nodded. “And our dearest Prefect only just mentioned that—hmm. How did you word it? Ah. That’s right. ‘I’m not ready to give it to him yet.’”

The trio tensed. All looking absolutely ready to pounce. At—at what, you had no idea.

“Perhaps,” the wretch mused, “it would be best for you all to temper your rage until the victor is decided, hmm?” He paused to tap at his chin for a moment, and then his lips split into a mean, jagged, grin. “Afterwards? Well, I suppose that whole cheery sentiment about ‘love and war’ still holds true.”

You gulped, feeling startlingly like Jade had just tried to serve you up on a silver platter.

But when neither Azul, Vil, or Malleus made any further moves to murder each other… well. As sacrificial as it all felt, at least it must have worked.

The rest of the day passed in a tense sort of fugue. You certainly hadn’t expected your attempts at bringing some holiday cheer to Night Raven to go so… Uh…

But either way, you managed to survive through the rest of the afternoon, and before you knew it, all that remained of all your tireless efforts and good will was the Special Box. The big one. The one that you’d put together with extra care and hopes for better things. You glared down at it for a moment, feeling sweat starting to bead over your palms. But you couldn’t chicken out now. Not after you’d come so far! Everyone was acting so strange, and it was all so weird. And as much as that unfamiliarity had your teeth on edge and your hackles raised, you didn’t want to regret not giving out the last of your well-made sweets.

Well, here goes nothing, you frowned. You took a deep breath, willed yourself to be brave, and smiled your biggest smile.

“Here,” you beamed, more than a little shy and still a bit horrified by whatever pissing match had been going down earlier in the day, and finally offered the grandest of your chocolate boxes to the man standing opposite you.

Divus Crewel accepted your offering daintily, plucking at the crisp, sharp, wrapping with his crimson gloves. He arched one of his thin brows at you and you fought the nervous heat rising in your cheeks.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you blurted. “I know it’s not a thing here, but I thought it’d be nice.”

The second eyebrow joined the first—practically jumping all the way up into his fringe.

“I appreciate the gesture. Though from what I understand of all the garish advertising I’ve seen for Mostro Lounge’s new event, I assumed this was a holiday for romantic overtures,” he intoned, wry.

You spluttered and waved your hands furiously. “I mean! Normally! Yes! But also…” You trailed off, fighting the urge to fidget. “If you don’t have a—a, well, someone, then Valentine’s is just a nice excuse to give something to people you care about.” You averted your gaze and lost the battle to twist your fingers into your jacket sleeves. “My family used to give me chocolates every year. So. I thought I could… Well…” you trailed off on a grumble, embarrassed.

Crewel sighed and popped the lid off the box. He plucked two truffles from their casing—keeping one for himself and handing you the other.

“Well, then. A very happy Valentine’s to you, Prefect,” he droned and popped the chocolate into his mouth with a thoughtful hum.

You lit up like a Christmas tree and happily gobbled up your own treat. So distracted were you by the one-two-punch combo of the delicious sugar and even sweeter taste of your Professor’s approval that you almost entirely missed the pointed glare he shot over your shoulder.

“I appreciate your regard,” he said, loud. Sharp. And like he wasn’t talking to you at all. “And while I’m certain that if you do pick a ‘someone’ for yourself to celebrate with in the following years, they’ll have to work very hard to be worthy of such a gift, hmm?” His lip curled unpleasantly, in direct contrast to the indulgent warmth that had been tugging at his expression only a moment before. “I could hardly allow you to waste such a thoughtful gesture on someone unworthy.”

The Octavinelle Housewarden had the decency to look at least a little panicked—his face going pale and gaunt from where he was shrinking into his high collar. There was a frantic look about him, like he was trying to weigh the cost-benefit ratio of going up against his professor in his head, and realizing that he was stupidly, willfully, walking right into a lose-lose situation. And that, sadly—miserably—he was going to keep doing just that. The other two, however, looked entirely undeterred. Schoenheit curled his lip right back at him, more than ready to duke it out here and now, and Crewel fought the urge to remind the blonde that he was the adult in this situation, thank you very much. The adult who could very well revoke the Warden’s access to his Alchemy Labs as it suited him. The very alchemy labs that he knew Vil had been using to concoct all kinds of new, personalized, gifts for you. Draconia simply looked on with that unnervingly ancient, green, leer of his. Like he was staring down a particularly fascinating game. The Fae Prince was the most unsettling of the trio, if only because that while Crewel was more than confident enough in his abilities to subdue his other wayward students, fighting off an Immortal, All Powerful, Dragon was going to require at least a little bit of prep work.

Divus Crewel sighed, and it rattled all the way out from the marrow of his bones.

“Come, then,” he rumbled, directing you to follow him back into his office. “It’s not chocolates, but I probably have some of those ridiculous cookies of yours lying around somewhere.” Which he did. Boxes upon boxes of them. Tucked away special for whenever you came to visit. Not that he’d ever willingly admit that, even under the pain of death.

Your eyes went wide and warm as you positively beamed.

It was rotten work, certainly. He shot one, last, warning glare down the hall at the trio of infatuated interlopers as he firmly shut his office door behind you and your absolute oblivious idiocy. He’d do it. Of course he would. But, Christ alive. He was going to need a stronger drink.

[flowery-laser-blasts]

What are , your Head Cannon , for Drakken and Shego and , Kim and Ron :

Got lots of headcanons so I give 3 random ones for each: Ron - In Pre-K, Ron received a very colorful and glittery friendship bracelt from Kim. He wore it all the time but eventually got bullied for it by other kids. One day Kim noticed that he didn't wear it and thought it was because of the bullies, she decided to not mention it. The real reason why Ron didn't wear it is because the braceltclip broke off, causing the beads to fall everywhere. He spent an entire afternoon trying to find back all of the beads and repair the bracelet, but with his parents being to busy, he placed the beads in a little bag and kept it in his treasurebox underneath his bed, where it still remains till this day. - Ron is smart but it highly depends on what the context is. If you ask him to solve an equation, he'll be having a hard time. But the moment you ask him the same equation but make it sound like it has to do with "figuring out how many coupons I need for Bueno Nacho" or so... he'll solve it within moments. - Ron takes care of his nails and hands, especially since he's into cooking. He doesn't want anything underneath his nails nor does he want food to stick to him while preparing stuff. Hygene is no 1 priority when it comes to preparing food; eating food, however, is a whole different story. Kim - After the Zombie Mayhem tournament, Kim secretely continues to play the video game. She doesn't want to admit it but it was more fun than she expected it to be. She secretely trains in order to surprise Ron with a match someday. - Kim and Ron decided to dress up as Miriam and Jonathan for Halloween Trick or Treating and later on Kim reused the costume for her presentation on Miriam in college. - Kim has become less worried about brands over the years, especially after realising how dumb it was after people wore her mission outfit for a few days, only to jump onto the next best thing. She still is into looking into the latest fashion but thrifts it and tries to make it her own. Together with Monique they started upcycling clothes. Monique has her own business now. Drakken - After Graduation part 2. Drakken started working on improving the quality of the world rather than trying to take it over: Being praised for being a beloved saviour has better gloating perks than being a failing villain that has to hop from lair to lair. Though he does miss the thrill of villainy every now and then. So he sometimes does petty crimes like shoplifting a screwdriver from Planettool or anonymously blaming a fellow scientist for causing a chemical fire that resulted in a three months shutdown..., ...some tax evasion. - Drakken's scar was a result of eyebrow trimming - Drakken has a distaste for okra and bellpeppers and will pick those out of a dish no matter who prepared it. Shego - After Graduation part 2. Shego got tasked to train some of Global Justice's newest agents. She enjoyed it and eventually became an independent hitwoman for a while. After that she just decided retiring early is nice (especially with the money Drakken was making for both of them with his new job). She now does whatever... pretty much what she's always been doing. But also meets up with Kim and rekindled their sisterly bond in stop team go. - Shego is a horrible cook and either relies on someone else cooking for her or having take out/going to a restaurant. However after retiring early, she decided to try and get into cooking... a bit... the kitchen burned down. - Shego hates to admit it but the Snowman Hank song became an earworm. She hummed it once and noticed Drakken smiling widely from the corner of her eye.. or was that just her imagination? She doesn't dare to ask...

Hope it all makes sense. Still recovering from a cold so my typing isn't the most coherend at the moment :')

EDIT: I WISH TUMBLR WOULD STOP SCREWING UP THE COLORS IN THIS POST

[crzyzombii]

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 “𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧!”!

(First designs lol)

Milo!

The firstborn! Milo is the photographer and photojournalist of the team, capturing ever moment of chaos, glamour, and villainy that surrounds Vivid Vice. Unlike his colorful siblings, Milo is the only one who doesn’t speak despite having a voice box. Still, he expresses himself through his work, letting his photos tell the stories he can’t.

Milo is loyal to a fault, and follows Vice everywhere like a lost puppy. Secretly, hes Vices favorite, a fact she keeps under wraps to avoid stirring drama among the others (shhh, don’t tell)…

Vee!

The second born and the teams tech genius. As the broadcast technician and engineer, He’s a natural problem-solver, endlessly tinkering with equipment, fixing glitches, and building gadgets from scraps. If it buzzes, blinks, or beeps, Vee probably made it or took it apart to see how it worked.

Despite his brilliance, Vee has a tendency to overwork himself, pulling all-nighters as he dives headfirst into every tech project. His siblings often have to remind him to take a break. He’s curious about everything, sometimes a little too much for his own good. But deep down, he’s proud to use her skills to support Vice’s vision, even if it means putting up with the chaos that comes with it.

zzıℲ

[R̵̠̠͛̀͗̄͑̄͒͠ͅẼ̸͕̻͒̒D̶͓͓̲̿͐͜À̵͖͎͕͕̜̺͜ͅC̴̡̢̛̱͔͔̒̔̈́̈́T̵͍̦͖̽̅̒̈͛͌̈̒͜E̵͓͉̞̥̖̅͊̄̅̃̎̾ͅD̷̨̩̜́̐]

Dazzle!

The Fourth born Thirdborn and the groups social butterfly! Dazzle is the social media manager, ensuring Vivid Vice’s online presence is as dazzling as her name suggests. Whether it’s tweeting villain updates, posting behind the scenes chaos, or uploading dramatic selfies, Dazzle is always online and always fabulous. He can’t go five minutes without checking his phone, and he refuses to apologize for it.

Sassy, stylish, and a bit vain, Dazzle has a sarcastic personality that often leads to playful clashes with his siblings. He has a sharp wit and isn’t afraid to throw out a snarky comment, but he’s also fiercely protective of his family. Underneath the attitude is a bear who genuinely loves his work, always striving to make Vice’s brand bigger, better, and bolder.

Ryder and Evergreen!

The Twins! Born from the same batch of creativity, but with totally different vibes. Ryder, is an adventurous go getter with big dreams and a natural leadership vibe. He’s confident, sometimes to a fault, and thrives on taking charge. Evergreen, is the opposite—quiet, introspective, and always lost in thought. While Ryder is coming up with wild ideas, Evergreen is there to balance him out with careful planning. Together, they’re the producers, writers and editors of Vice’s show, turning her chaotic ideas into something almost coherent (she never follows their scripts though).

Trix!

The youngest of the crew and the wild card of the family. Trix is the camera operator, though “operator” might be a generous term. She’s mischievous, unpredictable, and full of energy, always looking for her next prank or adventure. Vice gave her the camera job partly to keep her occupied, but Trix has surprisingly grown to love it, even if she spends just as much time filming her siblings’ misfortunes as she does the actual news.

Trix is fiercely independent and doesn’t take orders well, which can lead to some interesting results on set. She’s the type to make up her own rules as she goes along, much to the frustration of her older siblings. But beneath her chaotic exterior is a bear who just wants to prove she’s capable of handling the job—and maybe cause a little harmless mayhem along the way.

A few little facts about all of them:

Vivid Vice made them all with the same mixture, but with different technique hence why they’re all so different personality-wise.

There is no coherent reason as to why the mixture actually works, but Vivid Vice suggests it’s all in the plush heart she made for each and every one of them.

For some reason, they can’t die out of loss or limb or having barely any stuffing, but they can die if their heart gets damaged in any way. Even if you try to repair it, the bear won’t come back to life the same way they used to be. Vivid learned it the hard way.

None of them have to eat, drink or sleep to survive.

None of them have a gender, but they do like to switch it up sometimes

They all refer to Vivid Vice as their “Mom”

Vivid Vice created them as a tribute to the Care Bears, the first show that she became hyperfixated on.

[awkward-walking-potato]

How about this; wade with a partner who works as a drag queen? his personality is like wade's, but to a lesser extent. despite the nature of everything he does, he can be a lot more stern at times. probably an odder request but I love drag culture and wanna work on becoming one myself eventually. and I love my boyfriend deadpool

Deadpool and the Drag Queen of Chaos

In the neon-lit underbelly of New York City, where the streets are alive with the buzz of late-night energy and flashing lights, there exists a club that stands out among the rest. "The Glitter Dagger" is more than just a hotspot; it’s the epicenter of fierce performances and flamboyant fashion. Behind its glittering facade, though, lies something even more extraordinary: Y/N, the drag queen with an attitude as sharp as their stilettos.

Y/N, whose drag persona "Foxy Fierce" was a local legend, had become the unlikely partner of Wade Wilson—better known as Deadpool. Their relationship was a blend of chaos and charm, with Wade’s unpredictable antics complementing Y/N’s more controlled, though no less vibrant, brand of extravagance.

Tonight, however, was far from ordinary. Deadpool had managed to crash the club’s VIP section, his red-and-black suit starkly contrasting with the glamorous surroundings. He was in a particularly irreverent mood, having just thwarted a minor criminal enterprise involving rogue circus performers.

Y/N, now out of drag and in a sleek, dark suit that radiated both class and authority, was eyeing Deadpool with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“Wade, darling,” Y/N said with a raised eyebrow, their tone a blend of mockery and genuine concern, “do you always have to make an entrance like a hurricane with a vendetta?”

Deadpool, unfazed, threw himself onto a plush sofa, tossing a small bag of confetti into the air. “Only on days that end in ‘Y’. Besides, I thought you’d appreciate a little chaos to match your dazzling performance tonight!”

Y/N took a seat beside him, leaning back with an air of practiced elegance. “And you’d be right, if you weren’t so prone to turning everything into a disaster zone. I do appreciate the sentiment, but must you always bring mayhem into my workplace?”

Wade grinned, clearly enjoying the playful banter. “Oh, come on, Foxy! Where’s your sense of adventure? Besides, I’m just trying to protect your stage from nefarious villainy. It’s practically a public service.”

Y/N shook their head with a smile that was half exasperated, half affectionate. “Your idea of ‘public service’ involves a lot of exploding fireworks and questionable judgment. But I suppose I’ll let it slide this time. Just try to keep the damage to a minimum. We’re already dealing with a night of high heels and higher drama.”

As the night progressed, the two fell into their usual rhythm. Y/N managed to gracefully handle the club’s increasingly rowdy patrons while Deadpool offered his unique brand of chaotic support. Between Y/N’s sharp remarks and Wade’s over-the-top antics, they formed a balance that seemed to defy logic but worked in its own quirky way.

Later, as they stood outside the club, the cool night air contrasting sharply with the heat of the evening, Y/N leaned against the wall, their stern demeanor giving way to a softer, more contemplative expression.

“You know, Wade,” Y/N said, looking out at the city lights, “I wouldn’t trade these crazy nights for anything. You might be a walking disaster sometimes, but you’ve got a heart in there somewhere. And, as much as it pains me to admit, you make this life a lot more interesting.”

Wade, leaning casually against the wall beside them, nodded. “And you, my fabulous friend, make sure that life doesn’t get too boring. Even if you do insist on occasionally looking like a glamazon straight out of a disco ball.”

Y/N laughed, shaking their head. “Just don’t make me regret this. And remember, if you blow up my stage one more time, I will personally make sure that the next costume you get is made out of sequins and feathers.”

Deadpool’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And with that, they headed off into the night, a dynamic duo of mayhem and glamour, ready to face whatever adventure awaited them next.

[itsquakey]

Thinking about…Marx

Even though drawing Kirby stuff is a little hard thinking about Kirby is sure enough on the table. And it’s about Marx obviously.

As much as I add to Marx’s story and headcanon all sorts of little things that make him seem more like modern Kirby characters I do like the simplicity of his character in the game canon. He has no backstory of any nature. It’s never explained how he knows about Novas. His character does come off a little unhinged and childish which is prolly why everyone was like “this guy is insane and super fucking evil” back in the day when in reality he seemed to only do it so he could make as much mischief as he could without getting in trouble (I call it “petty villainy” as opposed to actual villainy like Magolor and Haltmann). Now there’s been an argument since the beginning about if Marx got his powers from the Nova in SS/ SSU or if he had them beforehand. Here’s my theory. Kirby Super Star (Sakurai) implies Marx had his powers before the Nova incident, likely his “true form” and the Nova wish only granted him the ability to rule over Popstar via political power. (Also explains how the hell he got into space to knock Kirby away to begin with). Kirby Super Star Ultra (Kumazaki) implies Marx received his powers from the Nova as a result of the wish, “power over Popstar” likely meant the actual strength to rule via wings and a assortment of abilities and not political power to rule or anything. (Keep in mind this theory is because of Kumazaki’s lore in modern Kirby

So TLDR Game Marx canon is that he probably got his wings through an ancient artifact like the SSU Nova or the SSU Nova itself (Even though I personally headcanon he was a wish from a nova). I do like that he doesn’t seem to be bothered by these powers and in fact is barely shown in merch and art with his wings out or using any abilities. It’s like they just get in the way for him which is quite funny to me. Okay back to how I see his personality represented in canon and other things.

I specifically enjoy the fact that Marx never seems to apologize for what he did to Kirby but it’s shown that they are pals to an extent (if we consider the books to align with game canon). In the books especially it shows that Marx likes to make mischief WITH Kirby and Kirby is also comfortable enough with Marx to give him a hug that results in him falling and eating dirt. This current representation of Marx in canon makes me believe Marx isn’t sorry for his temporary takeover but learned his lesson in taking mischief and mayhem too far. So now he only does minor instances of troublemaking, which sometimes backfire on him. With the release of Forgotten Land and Magolor Epilogue, a bit of a spotlight has been put back on Marx due to his relation to/ similarities of some aspects of these games. I do hope he’ll show up to actually be a somewhat important character in a mainline game instead of being a cameo for people to :0 at if that’s even possible. IDK if present HAL has 100% control over Marx as a character or if Sakurai still has some control over his appearances.

If not it’s still fine to me, as he’s a little resident of Popstar who gets merch and has roles in books which I love. Superb funky grape man I love.

Okay TED Talk over, I’ve gotta go prep for finals week.

[the-era-of-shadow]

Mimicry of a Rivalry

Written by Aikshlin Rose

Cover Art by Aikshlin Rose

Chapter 1: Rise and Shine! It's Mission Time!

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS: Mentions of abandonment

[Next chapter]

September to October, and October to November.

Faces, bodies, names, and locations have changed.

What once was foreign has become common knowledge, as strange new lives are explored and understood.

Though the sting of abandonment still persists in the background of the mind, happiness has been found.

Though the surrealism of bodies transforming and being built still bewilders the mind at points, acceptance of such chaos has nowadays been met.

So now, as the sun has not yet risen enough to be above the walls of the flying temple that is for now what is called ‘home’, rest is able to be had.

That is, until the body is unceremoniously risen up from the ground.

"Awaken, my dear older sibling! Today is a very important day, for today we take the world as a stage, and strike up a glorious performance of mayhem and villainy!" The voice of a young child spoke loudly, awakening their teenaged brethren as intended.

"... Wouldn't you think it to be more prim and polite to at the very least greet me first, Cregal?" Orrock suggested groggily, rubbing their eye with one of their legs while using the other three to attempt to release themself from the grasp of Cregal's wings.

"It most likely would, yes. But today can be an exception, just this once!" Cregal responded, letting Orrock go now that they were up.

"Why today, if I may ask?" Orrock questioned, beginning to make their way to where the Dark Arms' biomechanical bodysuits were held as they noticed Cregal flying in that direction.

"Mama will explain everything once we get to the laboratory, I promise you!" Cregal answered vaguely, giggling mischievously as she caught a glimpse of Orrock rolling their eyes.

"Keeping a secret, Cregal? Is that not more of something that Cyzer would do?" Orrock playfully teased, not willing to wait that long for answers.

"I'm not keeping anything! I'm just creating the perfect amount of anticipation for when our missions are revealed to us!" Cregal argued, accidentally giving a key detail away in their words.

"Missions, you say?" Orrock echoed, knowing that they were oh so very close to getting what they wanted from their darling little sibling.

"Oh alright, alright! If you're going to be so impatient, then I might as well not waste myself on an unappreciated surprise!" Cregal pouted, dramatically landing on the temple's floor. "Each sector of the Dark Arms will be given their own missions to complete today, both involve going out, both require stealth, and both, if successful, will bring to the Black Arms something very vital!" Cregal explained. Though the explanation was still rather vague, it was enough for Orrock, who began to quicken their pace towards the bodysuit storage room.

"Understood. I will be seeing you at the laboratory then," They surmised.

"H-Hey! And just what do you think you're doing, thinking you can beat me there?! You will be faced with my elegance waiting for you when you get there, and that's a promise!" Cregal fumed, soaring through the air at a faster speed than before, now clearly determined to make sure she beats Orrock to the laboratory.

It was funny, and a little absurd as well, just how quickly Orrock and the other wisps that had formerly been a part of the Diamond Cutters accepted themselves into this strange little family. Who could blame them, though? They already knew the feeling of abandonment, but the instance that had occurred a few months ago had been different than the one before, for there had been nothing left of their past life but themselves to cling onto. The two of their original caretakers that were still alive had now both discarded them, seemingly finding that the wisps were too much of a hassle to worry about - a roadblock in the way of their goals, rather than an assisting hand to reach towards such aspirations. The first time around was a shock as well, with the wisps being so young and so trusting of their caretakers, who all were at that moment and beyond either dead or a traitor. That was, except for Whisper. Whisper was like them, young and abandoned, and provided much comfort to the wisps in the fallout of such a massacre. She had promised them that she would never betray them in the same way Mimic had.

But clearly, she had lied.

It was so sudden when the wisps realized they had been abandoned again. At least with Mimic’s betrayal years earlier, they were on a mission at the time, so the thought of things going wrong was at least somewhat present. But the thought had not even crossed any of their minds this time around - for it was just a doctor’s visit. It was only meant to be a day, but the days marched on.

Then, it happened.

The battle at Ebony Avenue.

Whisper had finally returned, alongside the friends she had made in the years since Mimic’s betrayal.

She had the opportunity to take the wisps, she had met eyes with Orrock specifically - they remembered that detail the most vividly of all.

But she never did.

She just focused on fighting the doctor who cared for them and their friends.

Why would she do this?

It was a question that was asked about several things.

The doctor had shown such kindness, they surely never deserved such an attack. Even when they revealed to have been lying about their identity, they did it in such a way that made the facade not even come across as facetious in the slightest bit. 

The secret was kept because there were people who wanted to hurt them.

The reveal was made to become closer with and be more transparent with the wisps.

Because the doctor, now known as either ‘Mama’ or Eclipse, was the one to take them in after Whisper had left the wisps behind.

And Eclipse gave the wisps a brand new life.

A new family.

New names.

New bodies, even.

Eclipse, unlike Mimic or Whisper, didn’t just ‘love’ them. They saw the wisps as equals to them, they saw them as if they were their own kin. It wasn’t just Eclipse even - the wisps’ new siblings saw them the exact same way.

Even if they were superficially separated into ‘sectors’, Orrock certainly had the sense that the Dark Arms would now be nothing without them and the other ‘Diamond Sector’ wisps. 

They were family. 

They were Dark Arms.

They are Black Arms.

Nothing would change that.

That’s why Orrock was okay with Cregal abruptly waking them up so early, that’s why they happily entertained this little race between them.

Because Cregal was someone who truly loved them.

Because Cregal was their sibling.

Because Cregal was their family.

September to October, October to November, and far beyond.

For forever and always.

And as much as Orrock feigned ignorance, they knew that their family would gain another soon, if all went right. One of the other members of the Dark Arms' Diamond Sector, Hue, had eavesdropped on a conversation Eclipse was having with someone else about their mission a few days ago, and having been rather quickly discovered sneaking around by Eclipse, they decided to inform them of what the upcoming days would entail for them – and of course, Hue couldn't help but let a bit of what they knew slip out to the others.

The other four of them had listened, and waited in excited silence. 

And now, the day has come.

Orrock, piloting their bodysuit, stepped out from the pod that the suit had been stored within, and began to energetically run to the laboratory, too excited to worry about how ‘childish’ they might have looked.

[hunniegl4zed]

So uh, softness time regarding Nazo in the revision! Au

I feel like that if silver or mephiles are struggling with their powers, keeping him down or reversing his mind, Nazo would step beside them and kind of “transfer” his energy over to them.

In the instance of scourge becoming a little baby, Nazo’s the first to dash over and catch the little thing before he drops to the ground. He’d also probably be about to cry when he sees the sleeping baby. It’s of relief honestly, knowing his friends and loved ones are safer now.

In another instance, if the reversion didn’t work , and nazo would have to step in. He’d probably be just as inconsolable as mayhem, just in a different way. After all, it was very similar how shadic delt with him, and the last thing he wanted was to see someone go out in the way he did.

Regardless, it’s probably the last time he actively uses his perfect form, or a lot of his chaos abilities. As he begins to think about retiring from villainy to help care for the little baby as a primary guardian with Iris and seelka. After all, he’s aware this is all deeply rooted trauma that goes well into childhood abuse from his father. He’s aware of how he was, and how cream is with his influence. (Due to nazo babysitting cream a lot, cream began setting down more proper boundaries and making more mature decisions. Even for a little baby rabbit, he’s impressed-)

Maybe if the three of them could raise him right, maybe he’ll turn out to be an amazing leader.. and hell, maybe he’ll change the world for the better..?

Well, regardless of who cares for him, Nazo’s gonna give the kiddo the best life possible. After all, he has the money, influence, and connections to do it. He did it once before with Iris, and he’ll be happy to do it again!

Speaking of Iris, she actually does let go of her resentment for scourge once she finds out that he’s a baby. She herself understands what happens to children under abuse in any situation, and is willing to take responsibility for the mother role in his life. Because all kids deserve happy, loving, providing homes. What happened was the old him, one who hurt her lover. Now he’s a kid in need of love and care. Who is she to hold grudges against a kid?

(Also, I revised some of the ✨au with no name✨ story wise. It’s mainly just the introduction chapters, but yea, feel free to check out my latest post!)

OCEAN LEVELS ARE RISING CAUSE MY LORD I CANT HOLD BACK THE FLODWORKS CAUSE OF THIS. Nazo pulling up as his Perfect Form to help out with saving Scourge made me loose my SHIET. Especially to hold little Scourge in his hands is djfhfkdpxocjbdwldpdj 😭😭😭

Iris being mom to raise him? My heart can't handle it, ITS SO FRIGGING CUTE. I can totally understand she's mad at him for hurting her loved ones, but taking 1 look into the eyes if the child, it almost acts like a mirror to her.

[broadwayinabox]

“Folie à Deux”

————A DARK SWEENEY TODD/MRS. LOVETT ENDING DRABBLE————

Prompt: “Toby, where are you…” but make it dark (and a little sexy) AF

(Starts the moment Sweeney kills Judge Turpin. For the sake of this story we’re gonna just assume Lucy has been dead or is never discovered/killed by Sweeney)

TW: blood/murder/mayhem

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Judge Turpin’s flesh is rough against his blade, the wrinkled folds of his neck causing the sharp edge to catch and stall in violent jerks. ‘Struggle more,’ Sweeney thinks, reveling in the pleasure of his prized victim’s prolonged pain.

When the blood starts to gather, threatening to spill onto the floor, he tilts the chair and sends him to the awaiting hell below.

‘A fine pie he would have made.’

The smell of copper, wafting up from his soaked sleeves, is pungent in the small space.

He remembers then, Toby, the boy who found his wits at the most inconvenient time. He clutches the slippery blade tighter, one more old friend.

But before he can resume his search for the boy, something stirs from behind him. Another young man, unknown to him, appears in his shop.

Panic rises, he roars, “What are you doing here?!”

The delicate young man freezes, clearly having paid witness to the slaughter, frightened and pale. Sweeney seizes the opportunity and violently grabs and throws him into the chair, the sticky paste of Turpin’s blood gluing him immediately to its red leather.

But before the barber can raise his blade he’s struck by an uncertain familiarity and pauses, leaning in a little closer to examiner his features.

This is no lad.

“What is your name?” He demands.

“Please sir, I dare not say a word!”

“I said what is your name?!”

But when the frail creature cannot summon up a response Sweeney supplies it himself, barely a whisper, “Johanna?”

Her eyes grow double in size, there’s no mistaking those eyes, the soft corners of her face, her mother’s features all too familiar even 15 years later.

“Please, sir! I beg of you!”

Holding her to the chair it’s then that he becomes aware of the circumstances under which they’re meeting. She doesn’t know him. A lifetime of pining and yet they both meet now as strangers. She has no clue the man, really monster, before her helped give her life, and he hopes she never will. Every love laced declaration he’d planned to shower her with now replaced by silence as the realization dawns on him.

This is his penance.

May she never know any more of the man they call Sweeney Todd than what can be found in a footnote on some page full of morbid tales. She has suffered enough to then have to see what her real father has become. He was so desperate in his quest for revenge that he lost the desire to rescue her, what a gift to bestow upon such a precious lark, apathy.

He’ll spare her life, as though any other choice exists. Selfishly he does soothe himself with the thought that she’s unlikely to report what she’s witnessed given the circumstances surrounding her escape. Anthony will see her through now, and perhaps with the judge and beadle dead, provide her with what he can never give her, what she truly deserves, a happy life free of villainy.

“Please, I won’t say a word!”

He takes a deep breath and with a final look, this time flooded with longing and heartache, he steps back from the chair and allows her to run out of the shop.

He stares for a moment at the empty seat.

There’s no time to ruminate on his loss, in a few hours hungry crowds would arrive downstairs and officers would notice their missing patriarchs and follow the putrid smell of rotting flesh to their quaint establishment, and their secret would be revealed. He and Mrs. Lovett have no time to spare if they wish to avoid a death sentence.

Having succumb entirely to the darkness, his revenge attained, Sweeney finds himself oddly keen to survive and even escape the horrors they’ve wrought upon London, if only to see what a life unencumbered by the past would feel like.

He grips his blade tighter.

Suddenly a scream echoes from below, a familiar voice. He’d forgotten about Toby. He swiftly leaves his indulgent thoughts in his empty shop, rushing down to the bake house.

It’s there in the dim basement where he finds Mrs. Lovett.

“Why did you scream?”

But he sees it then, her on the floor, the judge’s hand tightly wound in her dress.

Has the judge no shame, continuing to pursue his lovers, even now on the cusp of death.

“It’s fine dear, he just,” she tugs at her dress, gesturing down to the body of Judge Turpin who is still gurgling, “he got hold of me dress, it’s fine.” But he’ll leave nothing to chance. As she tries to yank the fabric from his deadlocked fist, Sweeney hits his knees and pulls his razor high in the air before letting the blade meet its previous groove one last time. His renewed sense of hatred finding the second rip of flesh almost as cathartic as the first.

Turpin’s hand finally drops from Mrs. Lovett’s dress and when he stands, it’s there, in the mangled sinew of Judge Turpin neck where he leaves his precious silver blade.

Mrs. Lovett, briefly touched by the possessive rage she assumes to be on her behalf, redirects his attention to the task at hand, “We have to find the boy.”

——————

“Toby where are you?”

Even as she calls for the boy, she feels a slight pang of conflict, so she tries not to consider the value of his life especially after aiding, so effortlessly, in the death of so many others. At what cost does the love of Mr. Todd cease to be worth it? She can firmly say without hesitation there is no cost too great. Toby won’t be a silent participant in their game and despite her deep affection for the boy he unknowingly sealed his fate with his simple realization, “you see it’s him, it’s Mr. Todd.”

And now it would unfortunately be Toby’s turn.

She grabs Sweeney’s hand, clasping tight as they pull close in the cramped space. A heavy creak sounds from behind them. A curl of gooseflesh unfurls across her arms as they both turn to find Toby.

“Oh, oh I found ya!” He says with childish delight until he spots Mr. Todd, hand in hand, beside her. “Mum? Mum is that you? Is he here? Did you bring him here? Why did ya bring him here?!”

Startled she drops Mr. Todd’s hand.

“The… the bodies… the people, the pies, mum.” His words are clipped and mumbled, unbelieving.

Everything she’d worked so hard for now being held hostage by the teenager standing before her. She’d have felt bad for him in this moment if she didn’t resent him so much for finding his wits. This dim boy she’d taken in as a son had caught on and it infuriated her.

Toby points frantically at Mr. Todd who is standing ominously, surrounded by the bloody bodies of the beadle and the judge.

“Ya… ya see mum? Ya see the bad things he’s done? Wot he’s made ya do?”

She knows it’s useless but desperation has always been her default, “Oh Toby, my boy… you mustn’t assume…”

“Mum, yer deserve betta than tuh be this monster’s mistress. I know yer heart is soft for ‘em, but he’s made ya blinded, so ya needn’t ask me anymore, I know what ought to be done.”

He steps between her and Sweeney, a misguided act of protection.

The slight reflection of light off the razor catches the boy’s attention and he goes for the blade, plucking it from its meaty stop like a sword hitched deep in an immovable stone.

Sweeney, who had previously stood firm in the face of his accusations, is quick to sway away from him, but the bodies surrounding them make for an uneven battleground and they fall to the floor together, the impact causing the slippery blade to jump from Toby’s grip and slide away.

“No stop, Toby!” Mrs. Lovett begs as she tries to intervene before being harshly tossed back by the lad.

Toby quickly discovers Mr. Todd lacks his brute strength, as Sweeney finds the boy is strong, too strong, far stronger than either he or Mrs. Lovett had estimated. He's quick to pin him to the cold stone bricks, his calloused hands thick and tight around the barber's neck.

“Yer an evil man!” Toby spits at him, using his own declarations to spur on his violence.

Sweeney's fight lessens as his eyes sprout from their lids before growing glassy, drifting half closed for a moment. The fight for consciousness begins as he feels the desperation for air. The boy above, so intent on ending him, unknowingly holds his breath until his face turns red. It's quiet. Sweeney never considered a death so pitched in silence. The irony of death, just when you stop craving its cold embrace, it comes so boldly for you. He can’t hold on much longer, so he welcomes the impending end. With the light fading he summons his last bit of strength to cast his eyes up to his executioner before he begins to fall away…

It's then feels the pour of wetness fall onto him from above.

The boy’s eyes bolt wide open as blood spews from his neck. His body slides to port, collapsing onto the stone floor. His absence reveals Mrs. Lovett, standing hunched, the blade raw and bloody in her shaking hand, eyes white, locked on his in horror, her chest heaving in and out sharply.

Her first kill.

He escapes from under the boy, and stands slowly as Mrs. Lovett stays frozen with her eyes still locked on his. He harkens back to when her fingers traveled the length of his arm, begging of him to “wait” as she plucked the razor from his hands and engulfed him in her warmth. A reverie in the darkness.

So he in turn lets his fingers brush along her arm, stopping only to pull the blade from her hand, sending it clattering sharply across the room.

She is motionless, in shock at what she’s done for his love. Perhaps it’s the disappearances of that last shred of Benjamin Barker, his full descent into darkness and the acceptance of his metamorphosis into Sweeney Todd, that finds the sight before him so arousing. Mrs. Lovett so devoted that her hands are now intimately aware of the cost of love, of loving him, and in that devotion she’s also forced to reconcile with her darkness.

This subconscious mutual agreement binds them, they’re in too deep to ever go back to what was. Feeding off those dark ties Sweeney finally rewards her, unprompted, with the affection she’s been so desperately begging for, finding he, in turn, now yearns for it, as he brings his bloody hands up to hold her face.

Something in her eyes changes as he pulls in close to her, a hairs breadth from her lips, the blood on his fingers imprinting upon her cheeks.

“To the sea Mrs. Lovett?”

Across his lips she exhales a warmth that ends with a wicked, unbelieving smirk, as she seals her final words with a sinister kiss.

“To the sea, Mr. Todd.”

[docgold13]

Profiles in Villainy

Discord

An entity that embodies the spirit of chaos and disharmony, Discord has once ruled over all of Equestria, maintaining the realm in a constant state of unrest and unhappiness.  His rule came to an end when Princess Celestia and Princess Luna used the Elements of Harmony to imprison him in stone. 

Many years later, the two princesses lost their connection to the Elements their spell was broken thus freeing Discord.  Following much mayhem, Princess Celestia decided that Discord should be reformed so his magic can be used for good.  The task proved difficult but was ultimately successful when the ponies appealed to Discord’s loneliness and need for friendship.  The spirit of chaos was convinced that his abilities were better suited for the purposes of good and protecting the new friends he had made.  

Actor John de Lancie provided the voice for Discord with the villain turned friend first appearing in the first episode of the second season of My Little Pony Friendship is Magic, airing on September 17th, 2011.

[gemprincess10]

Villainy

-Pets

Alicia: And this is Latch, my fuzzy little hamster. Look as he rolls around causing mayhem! Latch rolls into a table leg and cause a small tap noise, while the table doesn't shake at all.

Blue: Dawww! he's so cute!

Alicia: He is! so do you have any pets?

Blue: Yeah I do *whistles* Hopper come her girl! she's my pet bunny.

Alicia: Daww! a bunny, she must make for cute little snuggles.

Blue: Yeah though it's often hard to get out her snuggles.

Alicia: Why is it hard to get out of her snuggles? isn't she like 2ft ta.. oof! Alicia is suddenly tackled by a bunny the size of bear.

Blue: Because she is big and likes big hugs.

Alicia in a muffled voice: yeah that would do it, feels like getting grabbed by a bed.

Blue: And now you know the other reason why it's hard to leave her.

[sylvan-librarian]

Nissa’s Pilgrimage Part 2: Duels of the Dual Origins

Time for another deranged essay about Nissa. Last time, I wrote about my own attachment to the character (which hopefully explains why the hell I’d go to the trouble of writing an entire essay series about her), but this piece discusses a more practical matter: why was Nissa written into the world of Magic The Gathering in the first place, and what role does she play within the game’s larger narrative? That matter is a little complicated because it involves extensive rewrites and retcons on the part of the story team at Wizards of the Coast.

Nissa Revane was introduced as a character in a video game first: Duels of the Planeswalkers, which was released on the Xbox 360 (an ancient relic of a bygone era) in June of 2009, a few months before Nissa’s initial appearance as card in the first Zendikar set, which hit shelves in October 2009. According to the Voice for Vorthos panel at Pax Prime 2015, the designers of Duels of the Planeswalkers needed a face character for their black/green elf deck, centered around the way elves were presented in Lorwyn (read: racists). Since no existing planeswalker fit the mold, the design team, according to Jeremy Jarvis, created this “kind of a villainous, you know, hardcore, staunch xenophobic person that would run this elf deck. That was the need for her; that’s how she was created. She was visually meant to be slightly off-putting; it’s why she doesn’t have eyebrows and her eyes are just these solid green orbs.” This was Nissa’s introduction, and it was how she was presented in Magic’s overarching lore from her introduction in 2009 all the way to Magic Origins in 2015. After some cursory digging through the Internet Archive’s Wayback Machine, I found Nissa’s original blurb on Magic’s website, circa 2011:

Her planar travels have taken her to other places where elves thrive or even rule, such as the sunny world of Lorwyn. There she met elves who fully embraced their role as the pinnacle of nature, using both life magic and its shadow to assert their primacy.

Yikes.

Further insights into Nissa’s original personality can be found in the 2010 novel Zendikar: In the Teeth of Akoum, which recounts Nissa’s journey to Eye of Ugin with Sorin Markov and the vampire Anowon and Nissa’s subsequent release of the Eldrazi Titans. In this particular scene, for example, Nissa explains to her vampire companions that all “‘elves receive power from the land. We do not need to cut and hack and burn as humans do.’ She looked from Sorin to Anowon. ‘You are all, human and vampire, suckers of life. You are the same in our eyes.’” Later on, we get Nissa’s thoughts on goblins. Despite her previous protestations, she starts to warm up to her vampire ally Anowon, who thus far has been nabbing goblins every few days in order to feed on them; Nissa rationalizes his actions this way: “He was a vampire after all—a merciless vampire. He could not be trusted. On the other hand, he had conducted himself fairly, and who could blame him for feeding on the goblins, who were, after all, barely lifeforms. They were not children of the forest, but rather opportunists of the stone and dell.”

…barely lifeforms.

Yikes again.

Needless to say, there was little to like about Nissa’s original presentation in Magic fiction. Aside from how poorly written she is in Zendikar: In the Teeth of Akoum (on top of being xenophobic, she is also presented as belligerently naive and an incompetent leader), there is simply nothing fascinating about a stupid racist. Many other villains in Magic’s lore are beloved and have countless fans of their own: Bolas, the Phyrexian Praetors, and even Nissa’s mortal enemies, the Eldrazi Titans themselves, are fun to like, depending on personal preference. Their villainy is so overblown and impossible that it’s easy to suspend our disbelief and just enjoy the fictional mayhem for what it is. However, in our current cultural climate where stupid racists have spent the last decade driving the world closer and closer to hell, the original Nissa’s brand of villainy just isn’t very fun to engage with

However, Nissa’s presentation in Magic’s lore did a complete 180 between 2014 and 2015, retconning nearly all of her villainy and transforming her blatant, remorseless xenophobia into a simple distrust of outsiders and a desperation to protect her home. Her motivations of seeing “elves at the pinnacle of nature” was completely erased from her background entirely, replacing it with a respect for all life, and her magic, which was previously tied to summoning and buffing elves and elves only, became inexorably tied to the land and its leylines.

Readers wouldn't receive the full retcon of Nissa’s backstory until “Nissa’s Origin: Home” was released in the summer of 2015, but we did get a glimpse of who Nissa would eventually become in the 2014 story “Nissa, Worldwaker,” a piece of webfiction revealed in tandem with her card of the same name during the preview season for the 2015 Core Set. It’s interesting to note that at this time in Nissa’s development, the story team appears to keep Nissa’s old self largely intact; instead of simply erasing the rough edges of her backstory like the Magic Origins retcon would, it seemed at the time like “Nissa, Worldwaker” was supposed to be the beginning of Nissa’s redemption arc. For example, look at the opening blurb at the very beginning of the story:

The elf Planeswalker Nissa Revane has led a difficult life. She's been exiled from her tribe, the Joraga, on more than one occasion, and becoming a Planeswalker set her even further apart. She traveled to different worlds, seeking to understand the nature of elves' responsibility toward nature, but she always returned to her home plane of Zendikar. Whatever peace she managed to find for herself came to an end with the rising of the monstrous Eldrazi. These vast, interplanar beings, devourers of entire worlds, had been imprisoned on Zendikar millennia before. Desperate to save her world, Nissa broke the lock that kept the Eldrazi on Zendikar. Her hope was that the Eldrazi, freed of their confines, would travel out into the Multiverse. Their threat would spread, but Zendikar would be saved. It didn't work. At least one of the three Eldrazi titans remains on Zendikar, threatening all life on the plane with annihilation. Nissa stayed to fight the Eldrazi, but she fears it's hopeless. To defeat the monstrosities that assault the plane, all of Zendikar would have to fight as one…

Notice that while the story is clearly setting Nissa on a new path, it doesn’t deny what her character was previously, nor does it deny that the events that took place in Zendikar: In the Teeth of Akoum did in fact happen the way they were originally reported. In “Nissa, Worldwaker,” we are presented with a Nissa a few years after she naively set the Eldrazi free, broken by her endless fight with Ulamog’s brood and wracked with tremendous guilt from the actions she took at the Eye of Ugin. 

The story opens with Nissa getting rescued by a human man named Hamadi after Ulamog completely annihilates Nissa’s Joraga clan down to, apparently, Nissa herself. Her first reaction upon waking up in her savior’s tent shows that much of her old xenophobia still remains: “‘Where am I?’ Nissa said. Mistrust everyone. Even though the human saved her, the old Joraga instincts remained. She felt vulnerable, naked under the furs, and she knew her full power was a long way from returning.” Nissa and Hamadi later talk about this with each other: how nearly all the civilizations of Zendikar were isolated and separated from each other, and it took the rise of the Eldrazi to bring them together. 

Then, Nissa listens as Hamadi begins to tell her about the destruction of his home and his people, and it’s here we begin to see Nissa’s transformation; as she listens to Hamadi’s stories, 

a growing ache welled up within her body and lodged itself in her throat. She was responsible for all of it, all his loss and all of Zendikar's devastation. Hamadi had pulled her, a Joraga elf, from certain death. He had risked his life and had saved hers. And she was the cause. Dark memories started to crawl into Nissa's mind from all the worst places. All her failures, her foolish choices, her selfishness and arrogance, poured into her gut like a lead weight. She became tangled in the web of her past that was filled with the bodies of a thousand innocents who had fallen to the Eldrazi. She could have saved them all.

This is the most important section of “Nissa, Worldwaker” for the character’s burgeoning growth, but this story also shows readers something else: the transformation of Nissa’s magic. Nissa’s first card, Nissa Revane was a planeswalker that cared only for elves, and all of her story appearances have shown this narratively. However, with Nissa, Worldwaker, we are given a card with a completely altered skill set. In this card, Nissa animates lands into creatures that fight for the player and untaps lands to symbolize how her deep connection to the land can generate a near endless amount of mana. While I assume the primary reason for this shift in Nissa’s skillset was due to the team’s desire to explore a new design space, the story, “Nissa, Worldwaker” also tries to explain this shift narratively; by rejecting her former tribalism and xenophobia and embracing all life on Zendikar, Nissa unlocks the might and the loyalty of the land itself. This is driven home by Hamadi revealing that the nickname he has been calling Nissa throughout the story, “Shaya,” means Worldwaker.

While this created an interesting setup for future Nissa stories, Magic’s story team clearly decided that Nissa’s previous way of life (read: racism) made her unsuitable to be a hero of Magic the Gathering, so they instead opted to retcon her entire backstory as a part of making her one the iconic five planeswalkers for their Magic Origins initiative. At the time, Wizards of the Coast announced that they would be getting rid of the yearly standard set release model they had been using - two three-set blocks and a core set per year - opting instead for three two set blocks per year and no core set at all. Forecasting deeper, more focused storytelling, Magic Origins was marketed as being the “final'' core set while also introducing revised backstories of five planeswalkers who would be the focus of Magic storytelling for the foreseeable future: Gideon Jura, Jace Beleren, Liliana Vess, Chandra Nalaar, and Nissa Revane. 

While a handful of the other stories in the Magic Origins arc simply revised certain elements to make these characters more palatable to readers - Chandra’s for example - Nissa’s revised backstory, “Nissa’s Origin: Home,” reworked the character from the ground up, completely erasing from the narrative much of her characterization in Zendikar: In the Teeth of Akoum and elsewhere, and even bringing into question the canonicity of the redemption arc forecasted the previous year in “Nissa, Worldwaker.” 

In the original canon, Nissa embraced the xenophobia and tribalism of the austere Joraga tribe, and she was only truly ostracized when she became a planeswalker. In the new canon, Nissa spent her childhood being ostracized by the Joraga because she and her mother were the last of the animists. 

Nissa constantly has nightmares, and the Joraga clan believes that these nightmares are a curse the world of Zendikar has placed on the animists because of some unknown crime. Numa, the chief of the Joraga, tells Nissa’s mother one night after Nissa wakes up screaming and startles the village: “‘Your people angered Zendikar and they paid the price. There is a reason that you are the last of the animists.’” Nissa overhears this, and being young at the time and not knowing any better, she runs away to avoid causing any more trouble for her family.

This sets Nissa on her hero’s journey, where she comes to embrace her burgeoning animist powers, learns that her dreams are not a curse from Zendikar but instead a plea for help, and experiences her first major failure (of many). She journeys to the Akoum mountain range for the first time and finds the mountain where the Eldrazi Titans are imprisoned. Not understanding enough about the threat she is facing, she attempts to reach her consciousness through the mountain and is met with the oppressive, impenetrable, alien mind of Emrakul, the greatest of the Eldrazi Titans. The trauma of realizing she is no match at all for this creature causes her planeswalker spark to ignite and she ends up on Lorwyn.

Here again is where Nissa’s story diverges dramatically from her original background. Originally, Nissa was fascinated by Lorwyn’s fascist elves; as mentioned earlier, we are told that there “she met elves who fully embraced their role as the pinnacle of nature, using both life magic and its shadow to assert their primacy.” In the revised origin from “Home,” Nissa does, in fact, meet Lorwyn’s elves, but she is absolutely horrified by their way of life. After she finds Dwynen’s tribe slaughtering innocent, helpless boggarts simply because they are ugly, she exclaims, “‘There is so much evil … So much darkness already. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it all. It’s horrible. It’s awful.’ Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of her precious Zendikar. ‘Yet you insist on adding more.’” Obviously, this does not go over well with a bunch of elf supremacists, and she is forced to planeswalk back to Zendikar before she gets executed.

And here is where Nissa’s two origins largely converge. Strangely enough, despite Nissa’s characterization as belligerently naive, incompetent, and wildly prejudiced during the events of Zendikar: In the Teeth of Akoum, nothing in this novel has been officially retconned as of yet. In fact, other than a few flashbacks to show personal growth, Nissa’s life during this time wasn’t addressed in a meaningful way until late 2022 in Magic The Gathering: The Visual Guide. In the small blurb we get about Nissa, we are told:

Joined by the vampire planeswalker Sorin Markov, Nissa journeyed to the Eye of Ugin, the magical control center of the Hedron Network. Nissa’s distrust of vampires ran deep, and she betrayed Sorin by destroying the central hedron—rather than helping him repair it—in the hope that Sorin was lying and the Eldrazi would leave once they were freed. The truth was far worse.

In essence, we are told that the basic events of Zendikar: In the Teeth of Akoum did in fact happen largely the way we were told they did. Without being instructed otherwise, we can really only assume that the Nissa in the modern canon was probably less incompetent, hateful, and racially prejudiced than what the novel told us. 

But why was Nissa changed so drastically, and what does this mean for us readers and players? The answer to the first question can be found in the Voice for Vorthos panel at PAX Prime 2015. Kimberly Kreines, one of the Magic Story Team’s lead writers at the time, explained:

We want her values to reflect the way we as a company are evolving as well and we want to set ourselves up for the best success with this character moving forward, and so the parts of her personality we chose to preserve, we carefully thought about that, and where we see her evolution going next is, you know, we’re happy with where we are with her right now, and excited, really excited, for the potential of all of these characters.

In other words, Nissa’s shift from a racial supremacist to a shy cinnamon roll was part of a larger shift in the evolution of the Magic Story Team’s values. It’s important to note that Nissa was not the only character whose sharp edges got polished down during the Magic Origins stories. Chandra, for example, had been presented previously as selfish to a fault, not really caring who gets hurt by collateral damage. Jace gets transformed from a mind mage who is more than happy to destroy the minds of basically anyone who gets in his way to someone who only destroys the minds of those who he believes deserves it.

Seen in this context, one can see that the changing culture at Wizards of the Coast pushed their creative minds to ensure that the main characters of their world were more heroic (or at least less terrible) than they had been previously. You can definitely view this through a cynical lens and argue that the protagonists of Magic stories from 2015 and beyond have suffered extreme ‘Disneyfication,’ in that they are now more palatable to a wider audience than the morally gray (at best) way they were presented previously. And the relative backlash at the time reveals that is certainly what many Vorthoses believed. For example, a 2017 article from Hipsters of the Coast argued that Nissa’s change may have been worth it in the end, but that many Vorthoses also had “their confidence shaken” by these abrupt changes to existing lore.

Fast-forward to 2023, however: Magic’s player base is larger than ever, and many of these new players came into the game in a post-Magic Origins world. Nissa’s original story has almost been forgotten. These days, Nissa is mostly known for her relationship with Chandra (more on that later), how she and Chandra’s relationship has been mishandled and botched throughout the years and then, finally, given the respect and honor it deserves (definitely more on that later), and for being a green menace during the both War of the Spark standard season and in the early days of the Pioneer format.

To conclude on a more personal note, I came into Magic the Gathering in 2014, and I fell in love with Nissa’s cards and Nissa’s character during the Magic Origins and Battle for Zendikar stories, so the dramatic shift in Nissa’s character portrayal did not bother me then and still does not today. While an argument can certainly be leveraged against Wizards of the Coast for, at times, sacrificing story quality in an attempt to appeal to a wider audience, I can’t say I see that in the Magic Origins changes to the game’s main cast of characters. From my point of view, Nissa as a complex character - a genuinely good person who has made terrible mistakes then learned from them - is much more interesting and relatable than a Nissa who is a genuinely terrible person (racist) that gets a chance at redemption (realizing that non-elves are people).

If you stuck through this meandering, long-winded nonsense, thanks! I hope you learned something or at the very least found something to enjoy about it. Next time, I will be talking about Nissa during the early days of the Gatewatch story arc, so I hope you are prepared for a lot of…

See you next time!

References

Annelli, J. (2022). Magic The Gathering The Visual Guide. DK Publishing

Byrne, L. (2017), Retcons of Revane, Part II 

Lee, A. (2014) Nissa, Worldwaker

Magic Story Team (2015). Nissa’s Origin: Home  

Magic Story Team (2015). Voice for Vorthos Panel at PAX Prime 2015

Wintermute, R. B. (2010). Zendikar: In the Teeth of Akoum. Wizards of the Coast

[ericmicael]

I didn't expect the reception of "Wish" to be so low at the beginning, but I believe it will get better with time as was the case with "Elemental". And honestly I find this one more interesting than the recent Pixar film. But talking about the film itself, I'd like to talk a little about IGN's analysis.

Especially these two moments:

"The animation style reads more graphic than most of the studio’s 3DCG features. It doesn’t precisely match the animated exuberance seen in the Spider-Verse movies or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem, but it similarly attempts to call to mind the hand-drawn era – or at least to feel like it exists in a state between painted cels and moving pixels. The highlights are the lush, moonlit backgrounds that resemble storybook illustrations."

"There’s an irredeemable bad guy here, which breaks from recent trends of Disney movies that either eschew a villain entirely, or wait to reveal them in a last-minute twist. But Maginfico, and his groovily resentful, but ultimately underwhelming statement of wickedness, “This is the Thanks I Get?!,” come off as generic. Like so much of Wish, the king is made up of pieces from better movies, best described as a mix between Frozen’s Hans and The Princess and the Frog’s Dr. Facilier."

The animation style and the villain.

I still want Disney to continue with this style of animation, I want "Frozen 3/4" to have this style of animation even though from the beginning it didn't seem to be the pinnacle of the technique like "Spider-Verse" which brought the spotlight to the technique. But I still want this to evolve at Dsney and make the most of it.

The King Magnifico was Disney and Jennifer Lee's official response to those who missed the classic villains, the villains that created a fanbase and this fanbase didn't try to pretend that the character was good, but rather embraced his villainy without wanting to turn him into what he is not and never has been. "I like a villain, I want him to stay a villain and have a glorious death, and that's okay," I miss that. And indeed Magnifico seems to fit that thought, and please Disney don't abandon that thought.

And in relation to the villain, more specifically his wife, Queen Amaya, I found some of his descriptions curious. In the analysis she seems to not believe that the King Magnifico is the villain, being a naive character, and also sees a little of her in Asha when she was younger.

I'm starting to consider this film an alternative version of "Frozen 1" where Hans succeeds in killing Elsa and thereby steals her powers, and Anna marries him believing he is a hero, but years later a young girl who does Anna remembering herself in the past appears in the kingdom and reveals the truth about Hans. Honestly, it wouldn't be very difficult to make this fanfic.

[rockybloo]

english isn’t my first language so i apologize for any weird phrasing — so i remember reading an answer from you a while ago that explains that bitterbat chose to be a villain with one if the reasons being that the hero system has too many rules, which is fair, and that he’s also trying to clean up his fathers mess — the vents i think they’re called — which is another reason he’s a villain. (ps i love all your stories, you have a lot of interesting premises and characters!)

anyway i’ve just seen the recent ask about sweethearts guilt with treating him like a villain, and we all know bitterbat can read emotions. so my question is: why does bitterbat continue to want to be a villain if he knows it makes sweetheart feel bad?

Thank you!

As for Bitterbat's reasoning on continuing to be a villain, the pros outweigh the cons

He already had a reputation before he left as a villain as he and Sweetheart had pretty of battles when they were children in the public eye. So it's easier to return under the guise of revenge instead of trying to "turn over a new leaf" and face a bunch of doubt and nonbelievers.

There are too many rules for being a hero and Bitterbat is already sick of all the rules there are for being a human. Those already give him a head ache especially the ones that are against just challenging anyone to a battle to the death because of a minor inconvenience they caused. And don't get him started on the rules to a healthy "human" relationship.

Bitterbat doesn't give a shit about Decking City or Earth. He doesn't care about any human conflicts save for the ones that directly effect his Sweetie Pie. Due to his damn near uncaring but still slightly neutral perspective on Earthly life, both he and Sweetheart agreed he'd have a smoother time being a villain than becoming potentially one of the most criticized heroes in history.

One of the rules for heroes is how heroes have to be prepared to go on duty to fight certain villains. So even if Bitterbat was a hero, he would wind up having to spend even less time around Sweetheart who he would have to be sharing with the attention of some villain. And he simply ain't having that. So he decided he'll be the villain that hogs all her attention so he can have all the Sweetheart time he wants while also still working towards fixing his father's mess.

The lack of rules (with there basically be none) for villains allows Bitterbat to do whatever he wants and go where ever he pleases without having to be tracked by any hero league or squad or group.

Bitterbat doesn't have ANY documentation for Earth. His fingerprint doesn't identify him because there are no human records of his existence-not even in this galaxy. He has no socials or a birth certificate. He is a completely blank slate. And being a blank slate means he can operate much more easily under the nose of the law because there ain't much to track back to him.

Being a villain was Bitterbat's idea and he doesn't mind it much save for the times he can't be with Sweetheart. He acknowledges that Sweetheart feels guilt from time to time about it but they both work through it with him comforting her and telling her how no matter how tough things get-he knows she loves him regardless of what lengths they have to go for their act. On the days her guilt gets too much, they take the day off and just spend some alone time together until she feels better.

Ultimate perk of Bitterbat being a villain is that he is part of the Band of Bastards which is the villain league in Decking City. And that allows him to get all sorts of confidential villainy secrets he can use to his and Sweetheart's advantage. He may be a villain in public but he does some slightly heroic things like acting like a spy. Of course, there's some things he goes along with because causing a little bit of mayhem is fun but he never partakes in any plans that could lead to human casualties.

[scaryscarecrows]

What are your favorite canon versions of Riddler and Penguin?

Caveat: I have not read many comics wherein they are the main (or a main) villain. I have read comics with a villain ensemble (The Long Halloween, for example), but not too many 'Penguin causes mayhem' or 'Riddler makes everyone hate him single-handedly'. So.

Penguin

Gotham. He's a stabby, determined little asshole and I don't care if it sounds bad, I want to be him. Nothing stops him. Respect.

Pain and Prejudice. I highly recommend this. It hurts, but still.

Batman Returns. Naturally.

The Batman. VERY much stoked for the HBO series, even though I'll probably view it later because I don't have HBO. Riddler 1. B:tAS. He's precious. He gets away with shit. He's a smooth, intelligent sonofabitch with killer suits. Nice. 2. Okay, so I have cursed him vigorously, but Arkhamverse Riddler got a rise out of me that few do. I would fight his voice actor in a parking lot. 3. Zero Year was an interesting take and an all-around fun ride. It and The Batman can share a slot for having similar takes on Eddie. 4. Gotham's Ed was a tragic slide into villainy. Don't bully your awkward coworkers, kids! Honorary Mentions WB's The Batman. Penguin looks like he'll bite you and Edward...I'm torn on his design, but his writing was solid. This whole show is a good one, though, with the bonus of having Batman vs. Dracula as its movie. Lego Batman: Family Matters. They tried to buy a private island, man, I was so pissed they got caught.

[themovieblogonline]

Rings of Power Season 2 Episode 7: Sauron’s Dark Master Plan Unfolds

If you’ve been waiting for The Rings of Power to truly get into the epic, high-stakes action, Episode 7 of Season 2 delivers. Right from the jump, the episode gives us Celembrimbor doing his best “everything’s fine” routine as he casually plays with mythril. But we all know nothing’s fine when Sauron is lurking in the background. This episode packs tension, chaos, and enough backstabbing to remind us why we love Middle-Earth’s mix of magic and mayhem. The opening shot of Celembrimbor, finally working on the nine rings, feels almost innocent. But when Annatar—who we all know by now is Sauron in his “nice guy” disguise—throws in that creepy half-smile, it’s obvious the game is rigged. You can almost hear the "gotcha" moment as Sauron lets Celembrimbor heap praise on him for his “help,” all while weaving his dark magic into the rings. That’s our guy Sauron—deception is his love language. Sauron: The Ultimate Chess Player What really stands out in this episode is how Sauron doesn’t have to flex much to cause absolute destruction. As Eregion burns, the guy barely lifts a finger. Yet, the tension rises as he tells Celembrimbor that he actually enjoyed their time together. For a second, you kinda believe him—and that’s terrifying. Sauron’s evil isn’t just about power; it’s about manipulation, trust, and, well, betrayal on a cosmic scale. The battle scenes are absolutely stunning. Those sweeping shots and gritty close-ups take you right into the chaos, feeling like The Two Towers redux with just a hint more hopelessness. When Elrond shows up in full Elvish armor, you know things are about to get real. But it feels too little too late, doesn’t it? Elrond’s Return & The Dwarven Struggles While we’re still reeling from Eregion’s devastation, we flip to the dwarves. King Durin has gone full corrupt dictator, thanks to the influence of his own ring of power. You can feel the tension as Prince Durin gears up for a rebellion, and Elrond’s arrival—despite being banished from all dwarven lands—only heightens the stakes. The chemistry between Durin and Elrond hits all the right notes. When Elrond shows up in battle-ready armor asking for help, the weight of their friendship and duty is palpable. It’s these relationships that make Middle-Earth more than just a battleground—it’s personal, political, and emotional all wrapped into one. Sauron’s Manipulations: The Long Con Meanwhile, back in Eregion, the emotional gut punch comes as Celembrimbor begins to see through Sauron’s deception. That scene where he finally confronts Annatar, realizing who he really is, is nothing short of heartbreaking. After weeks of working nonstop under a literal spell, Celembrimbor’s kingdom is in ruins. You feel for the guy—he’s been played, and now, it’s too late. And then comes the big twist. Sauron didn’t just use mythril to forge the rings of men—no, he used his own blood. It’s a gruesome, symbolic act that seals the rings’ dark destiny, and it leaves Celembrimbor broken, both physically and emotionally. The way Sauron slips away from direct confrontation while orchestrating the downfall of an entire realm is pure villainy at its finest. A Battle of Two Towers Vibes Elrond’s big moment comes when he rallies his armies to save Celembrimbor. The timing of this rescue feels like a nod to The Two Towers, where reinforcements arrive at dawn. But it’s not just the elves fighting—there’s Galadriel, sneaking through Orc camps like she’s auditioning for Metal Gear Solid. And, of course, Arondir’s epic entrance had me jumping off my seat in excitement. The battle scenes are some of the best in the series so far. We even get to see Prince Durin don his battle armor, only for his own father to go full tyrant on the dwarves. The internal struggle within Khazad-Dûm is as intense as the war raging outside its walls. Final Thoughts Episode 7 of Rings of Power finally lets the stakes hit home, with Sauron’s manipulations reaching their peak. Celembrimbor’s tragic downfall, Elrond’s desperate mission, and Prince Durin’s rebellion all collide in an episode packed with emotional weight, stunning visuals, and the kind of high fantasy that keeps us hooked. Sauron’s long game isn’t just about power—it’s about turning trust into ruin, and Rings of Power Season 2 Episode 7 shows us just how deep his darkness runs. So, yeah, Rings of Power is heating up. And if you haven’t caught onto the chaos yet, now’s the time to jump back in.