#this is largely fueled by my headcanon that magic acts like the metaphorical fuse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

britishassistant · 3 years

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Imagine a seperate Villian, upon seeing what Villian Yuu has to deal with, decided to publicly use some sort of concoction to make Yuu essentially Overblot and have them attack the civilians constantly harassing them to try and help them? Like they legitimately are trying to help, but their way of doing so is very very warped.

Oh. Oh.

Warning for Dark, Character Death and Body Horror under the cut

Seriously, if you don’t want that. Do. Not. Read.

“Beautiful.”

Yuu can barely hold in their screams, the place where they were injected throbbing, throbbing, throbbing—!

They can’t feel their legs. They can’t feel their legs, they can’t feel their legs, they can’t feel their legs, they can’t feel their legs, they can’t feel their legs, they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs they can’t feel their legs—

“Truly, truly, you are the most beautiful, most noble flower of evil.” The villain enthuses, staring down in awed delight as the exposed bone of their thigh gradually dissolves into black sludge.

“The others...the others, they taint this transformation with their own imperfect quibbles, too caught up in their own petty squabbles to appreciate the gift they’ve been given, turning it into a mockery of ridiculous outfits and issues.” The one who did this too them scoffs. “But you? You’re so pure in your hatred and anguish. It’s beautiful. Truly, truly beautiful.”

Yuu tries to drag themself away from her, hardly able to breathe through their sobs. It hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurtS, hurts, huRts, hUrts, huRTs, hURts, huRTS, hURTS, HURTS, HURTS, HURTS HURTS HURTS HURTS HURTS

They can hear things screaming their name—no, no, not things, never things, it’s-it’s people, it’s their friends, it’s Ace, and Deuce, and Grim and Yuuken, and Epelle and Jake and Se-Se-S-S-S—

The blot has devoured everything below their ribcage.

The thing that caused them this pain is laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing—!

Splorch.

No more laughter. That’s better. No more. No more. No more. No more. No more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more no more ENOUGH!! NO MORE!! IT HURTS!!!

Every day, every day, growing up with the fear, the agony, never being able to trust, never being trusted, protected, shielded, guarded, from risks dangers enemies manipulators heroes murderers suitors lovers friends family love life happiness, and for what?! A birthright they never asked for and can never give up, a fate they can’t run from even if they want to?!

They’re the villain.

They don’t win.

They don’t get saved.

They don’t get the guy.

Their fate is to be taken, and taken, and taken from until they’re left hollow and useless, like an upended inkwell. An inkwell is only valuable so long as it has ink it it, dipping pens and brushes in again and again and again until it’s drained dry. Another piece of trash to be discarded.

The blot is dissolving their clavicle. It’s not sure its host has the neurons left to feel pain anymore.

The things are screaming louder. The things are important. The blot is not sure how it knows this, but it knows. They are important. They are important. They are not to be touched. Even if the blot wants to, even if it can feel their anguish, their power and hate, yearns to draw on it, feed off of it, until they’re wrung dry like the trash that’s almost been consumed.

They are not to be touched.

The thing that used to be Yuu Crowley moves it’s mouth for the last time.

“Please.” It whispers. “RUN.”

Neige is crying.

Yuu-chan’s pain is obvious from here. Even if what’s left can’t even be called “Yuu-chan” anymore.

It’s a mass of inky black substance, almost sack-like in appearance, curled up on the outskirts of the city. It keeps moaning, reaching out compulsively and then attacking itself, as if it somehow recognizes the waste its presence is bringing to the land around it.

The others who were afflicted like this could at least be saved. They at least had enough superpowers, no matter how latent, that there was time to wear them out and disperse this thing before they were fully consumed.

Yuu-chan doesn’t have any powers. Yuu-chan has nothing left of themself at all.

Nothing but fear and hate and resentment and all of it directed at themself.

“-eige. White Neige!”

“H-huh?” He looks over at Farena-senpai, blinking excess tears from his eyes.

“It hurts. I know it does.” Farena-senpai looks like he’s barely unable to keep the tears from his eyes either. “But we need to stop this. That isn’t the Supervisor anymore. They’d hate it if they hurt anyone like this, you know that. We’ve got to stop that thing. For them.”

Neige heaves in a shuddering breath, swiping the tears from his face. Farena-senpai’s right. He always is.

“Y-Yuu-chan. I’m so sorry.” He chokes out, brandishing his magical scepter. “B-but don’t worry! It-it won’t hurt anymore. I promise it won’t.”

He lifts the scepter, chanting the incantation he’s said time and time again before. It glows with a purifying light, cleansing the land around it of the taint and corruption oozing off the former supervillain.

The inky thing shrieks. It sounds like a frightened child.

Farena-senpai steadies his resolve, pinning it down before it can run. Neige wishes it would stop screaming. It’s making his ears and heart ache.

The Champion takes his place over it once it’s reduced in size enough. The Vorpal Blade in his hand looks like a heavy weight.

One two, one two, and through and through.

The Vorpal Blade goes snicker-snack.

The heroes leave the Blot dead. Not even able to collect it’s head. They go trudging back.

From: Ambrose the 63rd ([email protected])

Re: Dire Crowley ([email protected])

Subject: Re: Burial Services

Dear Crowley,

It is my deepest regret to inform you that there was nothing left of your homunculus that our heroes were able to retrieve upon defeating the threat. Due to the nature of the attack the homunculus suffered, it is hypothesized by Dr. Milo that it had been consumed in its entirety within two minutes of injection of the drug Tache Plus. The testimonies of the unfortunate young men who bore witness to this event support this hypothesis entirely.

Yuu was an admirable villain and heir to your legacy, for all that it was artificial, and one who had the potential to carry on the Game admirably in your shoes. I know I do not speak just for myself when I say its absence will be sorely felt among many of the heroes here at the Royal Sword Association.

My deepest condolences once again for your loss.

Regards,

Ambrose the 63rd (CEO of Royal Sword Association ltd.)

Bad End 1: An Overblot by Any Other Name...

Insert Coin to Play Again?

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