OC as a Super Villain
Tagged by: @faithchel @honeysides @strafethesesinners and @scungilliwoman Thank you all so much!
Sorry this took a hot minute but! Here for you all is all 10! of my OCs and their results for this Villian uquiz!
tagging (with so very little pressure): @belorage @heroofpenamstan @jamesbvchanans @lilwritingraven @chyrstis @amistrio @shallow-gravy @shellibisshe @jackiesarch and anyone else that wants to!
unhinged protagonist
you have your morals, but the public may find them extreme--or, your justifications somewhat alarming. you are chaotic and often your ideas of justice rattle people to their core. what you'll never admit? the hatred for your enemy is spiraling you away from the starry-eyed kid you used to be. you will never be the same after you reach your goal. in fact, you haven't been yourself in a long time.
lovestruck henchman to the big bad
just like smee and captain hook <3 but yeah, you're not a huge baddie yourself. you're in this for the love of the one closest to you, a noble and miserable cause--but your fierce loyalty knows no limits. you will not hesitate to hurt those who pose any threat to your favorite. your devotion will devour you. your villainy is at its core, a loving tragedy.
religiously traumatized
you hate god. you love him. you don't know. the pain and romance of religion motivates you intrinsically, and you despise yourself for it. your villainy is convoluted, yet artistic, and so human. you're gay and 100% sexy. 50% you're also a monster.
unhinged protagonist
you have your morals, but the public may find them extreme--or, your justifications somewhat alarming. you are chaotic and often your ideas of justice rattle people to their core. what you'll never admit? the hatred for your enemy is spiraling you away from the starry-eyed kid you used to be. you will never be the same after you reach your goal. in fact, you haven't been yourself in a long time.
religiously traumatized
you hate god. you love him. you don't know. the pain and romance of religion motivates you intrinsically, and you despise yourself for it. your villainy is convoluted, yet artistic, and so human. you're gay and 100% sexy. 50% you're also a monster.
dynamite supervillain
you have everything -- the class, the audacity, the panache, the playfulness, and the shocking, wine glass-shattering acts of villainy. congratulations on winning the uquiz. it is possible and you are better than everyone else
asshole of the first half / domesticated for the second
this is the redeemed villain, so consider yourself begrudgingly reformed. there is capability for change in everyone, but more so in people who get swept into found families after feeling extreme guilt for doing bad things. lesser villainy, but hey, you'll still be around at least!
pure, delighted hubris
i.e. evil for evil's sake. you're toxic, and thrilling, and you make it everyone's problem. you were probably not the favorite child, and so now you make up for it by weaving a web of masterful emotional manipulation and/or crimes against humanity. your pride, though well-earned, saturates you, but here's the thing: there really is no one out there doing evil like you do, darling.
dynamite supervillain
you have everything -- the class, the audacity, the panache, the playfulness, and the shocking, wine glass-shattering acts of villainy. congratulations on winning the uquiz. it is possible and you are better than everyone else.
cold-blooded
you rarely crack a smile; there is no fun in villainy to you. only control, brutality, and strategy. you sneer at those who seek violence as a means for showmanship. this isn't a fun game, this is your judgement as consequence. you take what you want, and punish who you please. the downside here is that you're an absolute snooze at villaincon and you will probably get your ass handed to you by some 12 year old.
13 notes
·
View notes
This is a little something I wrote featuring @belorage’s sons in our shared universe. Kate thank you so much for letting me borrow them each time I do :’) I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it!
“Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”
— Homer, The Iliad
Danny runs a hand through his dark hair, setting the paintbrush in his hand down, leaning on the wood of the old bar. He probably should have stopped once the sky burned orange which muddled some of the colors and this piece needed perfection. He wants it to be the one to outshine anything he did and everything he will do, even if critics won’t even give it a second glance. Danny squints tilting his head, Maybe it’s better I’m seeing it at night too. Better to see how it pairs with the neon.
He doesn’t look in the direction of the footsteps approaching, the thick heels against the gravel make it obvious who’s joined him. “Seems a little late to be coloring don’t you think,” Liz, his older sister, leans next him, the crossing of her arms musical with the amount of jewelry she’s worn today. Danny gives a shrug, sliding his eyes to take in the bright yellow shirt under jean overalls covered in paint stains, half attempted embroidery, and various iron on patches that lead all the way down to scuffed white boots.
“I want to get this finished before I have to fly back,” Danny mutters, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the black denim jacket.
Liz frowns, turning to face him, “You sure you can’t take a little more time off?”
“I want to,” he sighs, “believe me I do, but Graham doesn’t want to delay the opening and he doesn’t trust himself to make sure it’ll all be set up like how I want it too.”
She scoffs, “Think it’s time you found a better agent, Danny.”
He shakes his head giving a small chuckle, “Nah, he’s just operating on my norm.”
“Right,” she smiles, “I forgot you have to place it all yourself or else it won’t be in your perfect mind's eye.” Liz lets her smile fall, “Things aren’t normal right now though, can’t he do it just this once?”
“What about you?” He counters, Liz cocks a brow at the sudden subject change, “You were planning on flying out not too long after me.”
She exhales slowly, “I told Val I’m gonna have to extend my stay here a little longer.”
“How’d she take that?” He asks, kicking at some of the small rocks beneath them, “She willing to take over your cases?”
“You know what century this is right,” she smirks, “She is though. She understands, said she’ll make it out here for a few days if I’m still here after this big one’s done with, finally.”
Danny nods, letting silence fall for a moment as he goes back to eyeing the painted wall across from him, fingers turning over the beat up carton in his pocket. “How’s she doing,” he finally asks, softly.
“Still distraught, crying,” Liz pulls her hair back tying it up in a bun that reveals the small bits of grey in the pink neon, “She’s at least starting to somewhat cook again.”
Danny gives a quick raise of his brows, “That’s something.”
Liz gives a shrug, “I mean if you count ramen and pb&js as cooking, then sure.”
“Still better than the four days in bed.”
“True. Thought she was never going to leave it I’ll be honest.”
“What about John, he still holed up,” Liz gives a nod, “And dad?”
“Stoic,” she answers quickly, “Using mom as a cover to cry in public. He’s gotten better though.” She gives a small laugh shaking her head, “Said someone has to be the adult and make sure things get done.”
Danny snorts, “Thought that was your job.”
“It is,” the smile she gives to her younger brother is small, “I just give him the easy jobs to make him feel better.”
“Better hope he never finds out about that part,” Danny laughs as his sister shoves him with her shoulder.
Her smile falls completely as she looks up into Danny’s eyes, “What about you? How are you holding up?”
His hand stops moving, trying and failing to muster up anything but a frown, “I’ll be okay. More worried about them. I think they all thought he’d live longer.”
“Danny….”
“I’m fine, Liz,” he says, turning away from her.
“And that’s what worries me,” she moves closer, their shoulders touching, “You’ve always been the more emotionally expressive and yet with this,” she shakes her head looking at the ground, “I don’t think I’ve seen you shed a tear since the day it happened.” Danny opens the carton just enough to feel the still full cheap lighter, Maybe I should go looking through his stuff, see if I can find his lighter. “Danny,” Liz starts again, “You were there when it happened, right next to him, and I know some part of you blames yourself.”
“Why do you assume that,” Even if I do find it, John’ll want it back.
“Because I would too,” her answer is soft and quick. “So I’m worried about you.”
Danny pulls out the carton half filled with cigarettes and the gas station lighter, opening to count once again that it’s the same number, eleven and a half, Liz’s eyes going wide. “He was halfway through one of these you know,” Danny gives a half attempted snort, “When the ‘copter came he put it out and handed me the half he didn’t get too. When I asked him why, you know what he said?”
She shook her head, “That he was cheap and it was the last one from the sale of the good brand?”
Danny cracks a smile, “Nah, though he may have thought it a second reason. What really happened was Uncle Wes didn’t even answer my question, just told me to hold onto it until he was better and allowed to smoke again.” He quickly puts the carton back in his pocket, wiping away at his eyes, “He had me thinking he was going to make it….and then….,” “Don’t worry kid. Takes a lot more to kill me” Danny shakes his head once again, “Then he didn’t and I don’t know Liz, maybe it hasn’t hit me yet. All I know is that he’s pretty much gone….and all without a trace.”
“Physically yes, but he’s left his mark in so many lives and places here in Falls End alone,” she wrapped an arm around his, “So he’s never going to just be forgotten about.” Liz smiles while taking in the mural her little brother had been working on, “And you’re making double, triple sure he won’t be with this masterpiece.”
Danny hummed looking back up to the wall, “Well technically I can’t take credit for this one.” Liz’s brow furrowed looking up at him, “Sort of a last wish of his.”
“He asked you to paint a mural while you waited for help to arrive?”
Danny shook his head, “I doubt he even remembered when he made mention of it.”
“You do though.” She gave a small nudge of her elbow, “So come on tell me.”
He gave a smile looking up to the few stars poking through the haze of the neon bar, “You remember when you went college scouting with mom and dad, and I got left behind cause of school.”
Liz laughed, “See I remember you asking to stay behind because you didn’t want to be stuck listening to me ramble on for hours and hours.”
He waved off the comment, “Whatever, same thing. Anyway, I think I was ticked off at mom or dad or both because I went looking through John and Wes’ cabinets for alcohol.” Liz gasped, pulling away from him, “The plan was to have a single drink and never tell them.”
“How rebellious of you,” she teased.
“Shut up, I was sixteen and stupid okay? I thought it was the best way to stick it to them.” She rolled her eyes, waving for him to continue, “I got caught by Uncle Wes though and instead of getting me in trouble he let me indulge.” “Better it happen in a controlled environment. ‘Sides you’re responsible.”
Liz gave a snort, “You know it’s probably because you were as stubborn as mom was back then.” “What about Uncle John? He’ll snitch.” “Nah.” “I can’t snitch if I don’t see it!” “See you’re fine.”.
“Do you want to know the story or not Lizzie?” She moved pinched fingers across her lips before throwing up her hands, “One drink turned into two, then three, then I stopped halfway through four but he got pretty far into the bottle. Don’t know how but we got to talking about some contest or graded project I was worrying about and started shooting ideas out there.” Danny laughed at the memory, Wes’ laughter echoing in his mind, “Then he stops suddenly slapping his hand down on mine, looks me right in the eye and goes, ‘You know what you should do? You should have a cowboy leaning against a motorcycle with his dog on the seat wearing like a little hat and holster. But it’s not the desert he’s standing in or the mountains, it’s gotta be the ocean!’,” he pauses, running a hand through his hair. “He also at one point made mention of some guy named Gregory Peck-.”
Liz cocked a brow, “The actor?” Danny gave a shrug, “Wessy has to be referring to the actor.”
“How do you know? What makes you so confident?”
“Cause he played a lawyer in To Kill a Mockingbird and Wessy watched the movie with me for class.”
“Okay. Whatever,” Danny rolled his eyes, “But after that he kept going on and on. Made me go into the house and get my art stuff and had me start sketching it.” “Can’t lose this kid. Gotta be able to remember it tomorrow.”, He pulled out a folded up piece of paper, some of the lines faded or smudged and the writing in pen started to fade in places, “By the end of it it was this huge piece that was so full of things that made no sense being together, I was surprised dad was able to make some sense of it when I showed him a few days ago, but Uncle Wes was still very happy about it though.” Danny handed it over to Liz, she squinted holding it up to the best light to take a look, “He leaned back all proud and said that if I didn’t make that for whatever it was, then he’d want it on his gravestone if he made it to be an old man.”
She handed it back over, “Thought paint didn’t always stick the best to gravestones?”
“It doesn’t, and I’m not doing his true vision, it would be almost impossible unless I had a whole skyscraper, then that would do it some justice.”
“Thought you said it didn’t make much sense,” Liz wondered with a frown.
“Not to me, well sort of. More I didn’t know where to start with it,” he let out a sigh, “Dad saw me agonizing over it-.”
“Oh wait,” Liz piped up, “is this the paper incident that made mom laugh for like a second?”
He let out a small groan, “Yeah. I hit him in the head with one of the many failed ideas. Worth it though, to hear mom make a sound other than crying, and he helped me out in picking out what the heart of Wes’ idea was. Kinda wish you were there, Lizzie, you would have liked to see the way dad talked about him.”
Liz patted his arm, smiling, “Maybe I’ll try and con him into talking to me about Wessy while you’re gone.”
“Hope it works for you,” Danny rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m also a few years early.” He exhaled slowly, “I was gonna do it for the big six zero but-.” Liz leaned her head against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him, “He’s old enough to order off the senior menu so despite what he said, he is….was an old man. I wish I was able to get better real estate for it, but this was all I could get on short notice and I guess this is as good as any place to have it. Wanted it to be on one of-.”
“He’d have loved it, Danny-boy,” she smiled, nodding when he looked like he was about to protest. “So this is how you’ve been coping with it, putting all your energy into this piece.”
“Not really. If I remember mom’s words, pushing down emotions isn’t coping.” Liz frowned, pulling him closer, “Like I said this is fulfilling a promise to a man who probably never thought he’d make it to thirty, let alone fifty-seven.”
“So when does your coping start?”
Danny pulled out the carton once more glancing down to the half finished cigarette, “When I can finally give him the rest of this back.” His sister looked up at him curiously, “I still need a center focus piece for the shared space in New York.”
“The one you’ve been so nervous about?” He nodded, “What’s the theme for that one?”
Danny let out a slow breath, “A bit hard to explain but it’s supposed to invoke feelings of melancholy, nostalgia, grief, and remembrance. Graham said I was lucky that a good amount of my new stuff fit the theme already.”
“Why this place kid?” Wes asks as he tries, and fails, to even out his breaths.
“You can see most of the county from here,” Danny chuckles, “I said that you didn’t have to come.”
“‘Nd risk Catnip pacing my house,” he gives a shake of his head, the gold and silver in his hair glimmering in the sunlight, “What I meant, was why this county. Plenty of other locations.”
Danny huffs as he climbs up a rock, “None that went through as much as this place.” He turns, reaching a hand out for his uncle to take.
Wes groans as he lifts himself up the rock, “Don’t think a lot of people wanna remember that stuff.” Danny turns continuing up, the pain in Wes’ body crawling towards his chest as his breathing turns short and shallow.
“That’s not the focus though, Uncle Wes. I’m looking for the ending and this spot feels like the best place for it. To understand-.” Danny turns to face him, smile leaving when he sees the way his uncle clutches his torso. “Wes,” he breathes out, running to catch the older man as his knees buckle, “Uncle Wes!”
Danny gives a half hearted shrug, “It’s still vague in my head about how it’ll look but I know it’ll be a statue and that I’ll be able to make sure that he’s never without some of the stuff he didn’t have on him when, well….you know.”
“You’re running on the ghost theory that you’re left in the afterlife with whatever you were wearing when you died?” Danny hummed his response, “Man if that’s true then he must be pissed about his jacket. He didn’t have it at all that day right?”
“Nope. Too hot for it, or well the sun was too prominent.”
“Well if you want to get textures and the look right,” Liz took a deep breath, “I’ll let you borrow it,” Danny turned, giving her a smile, “but you’re gonna give it back as soon as you're done.” She leaned closer, jamming a finger into his chest, “And it better be in the same condition that I gave it to you.”
“Of course, Lizzie.” “I’m fine. Don’t worry kid. Takes a lot more to kill me.”, He folds his arms, voice soft, “I’m not that irresponsible.”
She bites the inside of her lip, looking down to the ground, “You know if it doesn’t sell, maybe we make that a monument here.”
“I’m not gonna have it up for sale.” Liz snaps her head up at the swiftness of his response, “Graham’s gonna be upset as those are the pieces that go for the most money, especially in New York, but I don’t want him going home with some stranger.”
Liz gave a tilt of her head, “So we’re going to put it outside?” Danny shook his head, “Then what are you going to do with it?”
“I don’t know,” he looked up with a shrug, “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. I’ll figure it out though.”
She nods, “You have a name for either of these tributes yet?” Danny glanced down at her, eyebrow raised, “You always end up having a name before you start stuff.”
He gave a snort of a laugh, “Surprisingly, I only have working titles right now. This one,” he points to the wall, deciding that maybe he just call it quits for the night, “I might want to go with ‘Harbinger’ or….well I don’t know.” He hums in thought a moment, “Maybe this one doesn’t need a name.”
“And the other one?”
“Sweet Baby James.”
Liz smiles, “Your guys’ song. I like it.” She pursed her lips looking over the wall, “Actually, if you want to use that as a name, call this one here ‘Sweet Baby James’.” Danny knits his brow looking down at her with a frown, “The other one you should call ‘Let Me Go Down In My Dreams’, it’ll fit the theme better and well it’s your way of coping so it feels a little poetic. It’ll feel more like you’re putting him to rest with all that he needs.”
“Huh,” Danny says, looking ahead, “You know what, I think you’re right, Lizzie, I think you’re right.” He chuckles, turning to her once more, “About the second one, the first still needs some work. Starting to feel impartial to my idea, cause I can’t let you have all the credit.”
She gives him a small punch laughing, “You’ll figure it out though. You always do.” She pats his chest pushing herself up, “Alright, Danny-boy, time for you to call it a night with your finger painting, mom’s gonna start worrying.” Liz walks to the brushes and paints, Danny rolling his eyes with a groan, “And I’m also starving so you owe me dinner as payment for my brilliant ideas and contributions.”
12 notes
·
View notes