Academy Of Villains Quotes

Because I couldn’t keep away from her, that much was becoming abundantly clear. So I’d just have to keep being her villain.

Our gazes locked, so much passing between us. In those moments, I wasn't in a tent with him, on the run from those who regarded us as villains. There was no murderer to catch, no Strigoi trauma to overcome. There was just him and me and the feelings that had burned between us for so long.

Just live the way you want, Red. Whether you're the good guy or the bad guy in someone else's story, everyone becomes a villain at some point. It's only a difference in prospective.

It's not protection, little dragon. It's a claim." His gray eyes darkened as they flicked down to my exposed neck, an unspoken reminder hanging between us. "You're mine. No one touches what belongs to me.

There's no such thing as good guys and bad guys, there's just people. You know what they call a superhero that works alone? Who doesn't listen to anybody? A villain.

Fairy tales don’t exist. Prince Charming is dead, and the world is ruled by villains instead.

Tara is not a villain. Olivina is.” Clarissa smiles. “Are you sure about that?

Sacrifice is often the price of change.

There was something compelling about a man who refused to wear pants in winter.

What’s ridiculous, little dragon, is that you think you can walk into my space and walk out again without any consequences.

Don’t worry about the tribunal tomorrow. That’s why you’re really so upset tonight, isn’t it? Everyone knows where you stand. You’re House Drakharrow’s. And you’re mine.

There’s something annoyingly graceful about the way he moves – like he was born knowing the world would bend for him. It makes me want to trip him.

To be Starmarked is not to walk in the light. It is to walk in the dark – and light the way for others.

Because in a kingdom built on lies, the truth is the most dangerous thing we could ever uncover.

She'd fallen asleep in my arms. It was such a simple thing. So why did it feel like a miracle I could barely process?

It's a lie, Whatever this magic, the labyrinth knows exactly where to hit you, where you are weakest. But you're stronger than that. You've survived too much to give in to a lie.

When the world is at its darkest, follow the stars.

Because for now, the world outside didn't exist. There was only her. For the first time in a long time, I felt as if I wasn't lost. I wasn't broken. I was exactly where I was meant to be.

I need to take you back to the academy. He’ll know what to do.” Kharon’s words were raspier than usual, and his eyes crinkled with distress. “Can I—” He reached for me slowly “Can I touch you? Just so we can leap.

The Heartstring is a profound, mystical bond that links two mages' souls, weaving their destinies together with an unbreakable thread of fate. It's more than just a romantic notion. It’s a predestined union that transcends time and space. Love is the frequency of magic.

Call me Ace. That’s what my friends call me.” they both look up at me in question and I laugh, remembering just how young they really are,before I nudge my head slightly toward Ashton.Eric takes Ashton’s hand first, gesturing him forward like he’s got a secret to whisper in his ear. Of course, a five-year-old’s whisper might as well be through a megaphone. “What’s wrong with you?Livie’s really pretty for a girl.”I try not to laugh. Ashton’s eyes flicker to me and there’s a mischievous twinkle in them. A twinge of panic hits me. Of all the ways he could answer this question . . . “I’ve tried, little buddy. But Livie doesn’t like me very much.” “She’s your friend but she doesn’t like you? Why not?” Derek asks, a deep frown creasing his forehead. Ashton shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve tried as hard as I can, but . . .” then his shoulders slouch a bit and his smile falters, playing the role of wounded boy to Academy Award perfection. e twins cock their heads and stare at me in eerie unison. “Why don’t you like him, Livie?” Derek asks. And I have turned into the villain here.

The original flagship for the company was the MS City of New York, commanded by Captain George T. Sullivan, On March 29, 1942, she was attacked off the coast of Cape Hatteras, North Carolina, by the German submarine U-160. The torpedo struck the MS City of New York at the waterline under the ship’s bridge, instantly disabling her. After allowing the survivors to get into lifeboats the submarine sunk the ship. Almost two days after the attack, a destroyer, the USS Roper, rescued 70 survivors, of which 69 survived. An additional 29 others were picked up by USS Acushnet, formerly a seagoing tugboat and revenue cutter, operated by the U.S. Coast Guard. All these survivors were taken to the Naval Base in Norfolk, Virginia. Almost two weeks later, on April 11, 1942, a U.S. Army bomber on its way to Europe spotted a lifeboat drifting in the Gulf Stream. The boat contained six passengers: four women, one man and a young girl plus thirteen crew members. Tragically two of the women died of exposure. The eleven survivors picked up by the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter CG-455 and were brought to Lewes, Delaware. The final count showed that seven passengers died as well as one armed guard and sixteen crewmen. Photo Caption: the MS City of New York Hot books by Captain Hank Bracker available at Amazon.com “Salty & Saucy Maine,” is a coming of age book that recounts Captain Hank Bracker’s formative years. “Salty & Saucy Maine – Sea Stories from Castine” tells many sea stories of Captain Hank’s years at Maine Maritime Academy and certainly demonstrates that life should be lived to the fullest! In 2020 it became the most talked about book Down East! “The Exciting Story of Cuba -Understanding Cuba’s Present by Knowing Its Past” ISBN-13: 978 1484809457. This multi-award winning history of Cuba is written in an easy-to-read style. Follow in the footsteps of the heroes, beautiful movie stars and sinister villains, who influenced the course of a country that is much bigger than its size! This book is on the shelf as a reference book at the American Embassy in Havana and most American Military and Maritime Academies.

Search his room,” my father spat. “Turn everything upside down until you find every shred of evidence that he’s a traitor.” I had to bite my tongue at the irony of the situation. Just a few months ago, my father was the world’s most feared villain, and now, he was ready to burn his entire island to the ground to find the villain that had out-villained him.

He’s not competition,” I said. “However much being with him makes you happy, which it obviously does, that doesn’t take anything away from whether I can make you happy. It just means you’re even happier than I could make you on my own. I sure as hell don’t deserve you if I can’t learn to appreciate that.

You’re my hero, Sera Sinclair,” he said, cheeks red and those big curls of his hair bouncing all over the place. “I’ll be the damn villain soon if you don’t get me that coffee,” I said.

Out of the group Beckett hung around with, Charles was the worst. He was an eighties high school movie villain. If he had changed his name to Blaine and flipped his collar, he would have fit in seamlessly.

Sometimes, the villain of our stories escaped alive.

So I’d just have to keep being her villain.

I do. I want you.

But I wasn’t your typical fearmancer,

Those corrupt thoughts fed the attention-starved man my wife had carefully constructed for the past decade and a half, the monster she had watered with manipulative lies and cruel judgement, the villain who would one day have Sakura Sato.

any choice at all. “Why am I here?” I said. “What do you

Carly more or less does a controlled fall with one hand on the rope, using it to slow her fall, and lands in a three point superhero landing like a pro. I follow right behind and am about to land on top of her when she rolls away just in time for me to land only slightly better than a toddler jumping off a bed.

Villain telepaths are no more dangerous than villains of every other stripe; they just have a different way of operating. Instead of hiring henchmen, they control their minds. Instead of beating you into a pulp, they turn your brain into mush. Instead of monologues about how ingenious their plans are, they just put it in your mind how brilliant they are.

Not unlike a teacher at a Mystical school, or Ninja academy graduate - story-tellers are the Watchful Wizards of worlds. They see that which is otherwise thought to be invisible: your monsters, your villains, your would-be helpers, your dreams, and secret passageways. More importantly – we see you, even if you believe yourself to be invisible. We quietly (and keenly) observe. We craft and create worlds for you to spend time in, where it is perfectly okay (and exciting) to be yourself. We cheer for you when you win victories which others may see as 'small'. We send you best friends and thoughtfully placed serendipities to accompany you as you traverse the shadows of the unknown. We speak words which you may worry are too frightening for you to say out loud, just to show you that it is okay. We try to carefully reveal who your allies are; noting that you do indeed have them.

So if she wanted us to hate each other then I’d just have to play my part in it. Because I couldn’t keep away from her, that much was becoming abundantly clear. So I’d just have to keep being her villain.

That was a fearmancer staring back at me. Powerful or pathetic, every inch of me fit the role now. No matter how hard I fought, Villain Academy was absorbing me.

The types of magic we do are divided into four major domains: Physicality, Illusion, Persuasion, and Insight.

You just got here, darling,” he said. “It’s a little early to start drawing battle lines.

So, that was the Bloodstone scion. She hadn’t had any more idea who we were than we had about her. Totally fitting that she’d have started asserting dominance the second she’d walked into Blood U.

I kind of wanted to ask what he planned on doing if none of his machinations brought her begging for forgiveness. Rory Bloodstone might have been new here, but she was a scion. I wasn’t sure she was any more likely to back down than Malcolm was. She had been a bitch to him, and I’d be happy to see her brought down a peg for that, but the thought of their squabble turning into some kind of war within the pentacle didn’t sit well with me.

Of course this place didn’t just look the other way but outright rewarded students for tormenting each other.

I’d gathered from Professor Banefield that once a fearmancer had a handle on their abilities, they started coming up with their own private words for the spells they wanted to cast. Eventually you’ll be able to come up with the sounds and connect them to your meaning on the spot, he’d said. If no one can understand what you’re saying, no one can predict how you’re working the magic before it hits them.

Insight sounded like the simplest of the fearmancer skills. You figured out what people were thinking, what they wanted, and what they cared about, like normal people tried to all the time. We just had the benefit of magic to sharpen our perceptions.

And Declan, across from her, was watching too, his expression so impassive it felt like a slap to the face. Did you “rescue” me just so you could feed me to a bunch of fucking wolves?

I tried not to let my mind stray to the pain I’d watched cross that face less than an hour ago, to the way she’d looked to me as if I could shield her from it. It had reminded me too much of the distraught girl I’d done my best to reassure in her captors’ home. I had wanted to shield her from the shock and brutality of that moment. Seventeen years ago, she’d lost so much more than even I had.

She wasn’t just beautiful. I’d never seen the kind of determined ferocity with which she’d pushed back at Malcolm before. She had principles, and she was willing to fight for them, hard. It made me want to fight for her.

Believe me, if you ever manage to turn the tables on Jude and drag out a bunch of his uncomfortable memories for everyone to hear, I won’t jump in on his behalf either.” I couldn’t stop the corner of my mouth from quirking upward at the thought.

I’d gone my whole life without magic, but now that I’d had it, I couldn’t imagine ever being at ease without at least a little at my beck and call.

He grinned at me, and damn did his face transform when he really smiled.

Physicality wasn’t just about what you could do with your own body but creating solid things too. What kind of figurines could I create with magic as my clay?

Exhilaration shivered through me. I’d made something beautiful. Something beautiful out of fear.

You don’t need magic to be powerful, Rory. If your will is strong enough, you can do just about anything. I had my will, and now I had magic too, if I just reached out and took it.

Rory deserved better than a double-edged welcome home. She’d barely had a chance to find her feet. Given a little more time, I had the feeling she’d become something magnificent, just perhaps not in the way these people wanted.

I walked to the testing circle, trying to shut out the clamor in my head. Fear for Deborah. Embarrassment that the scions had managed to trick me again so thoroughly. And doubt. So much doubt, worming through every other thought in my head.

Miss Bloodstone, your performance was far more than ‘okay’,” she said. “Even with much debate, no one can deny the results. You show great and equal strength in all four domains. This is the first time any of us has encountered a power that balanced or that potent in our time.

I'm pleased to announce that Miss Bloodstone will officially be joining us here at Bloodstone University as the only student currently or recently in residence with a strong talent in all four domains of magic.

Cruel Magic Chapter 1

If the world had to end to see her safe, you’d light the fuse that blew it from existence.” “Damn right I would,” I agreed, no element of doubt in my tone. “Besides, a hero is never going to be what it takes to bring my father down. He moulded me into a villain and so that’s what I am. For her. For him. Damnation isn’t good enough for that piece of shit. And heroics aren’t good enough for her. So hand me the fuse, oh Savage King, because I’m ready to burn it all.

I've been hired to kill the prince.

If his love is a curse, I’ll wear it like a crown.

My eyes drift to her lips, the thought of kissing her tugging at my mind. But I can’t tell if the feeling is mine or hers.

Her smile softens, and in that moment, the Heartstring bond between us feels like more than just a connection—it feels like a thread of fate. Like she’s my destiny.

maybe I was being kind of a coward myself, when things started to get bad, hoping I could live my life the way I always did without getting involved. Expecting other people to pick up the slack so I could stay out of anything tough.

I like you every way,” he murmured. “But you can bring out that wild side any time you like.

My parents had to work on most weekends, and thus were infrequent visitors to Admiral Farragut Academy. However, on those Sundays when they could come, my mother would bring a cake and some cookies from the bakery. Of course, the cookies and the cake were past their prime, but that was just the way I liked them. I really don’t know how happy my parents were to see me since most of the time they were there; they would talk to my teachers in conference, and then tell me all the things I had supposedly done wrong. Sadly, I would always wind up with a lecture on how bad I had been and what was expected of me. It was something I had grown to expect, but more importantly, I was grateful for the cake and pastries. I have no idea why, but they also brought me cans of condensed milk. I can only guess that they believed that the thick syrupy milk, super saturated with sweet, sweet, sugar, would give me the energy I needed to think better. After one such visit, I made the mistake of leaving my cake unattended. It didn’t take long before it grew legs and ran off. I couldn’t believe that one of my schoolmates would steal my cake, not at a Naval Honor School! Nevertheless, not being able to determine who the villains were, I hatched a plan to catch the culprits the next time around. Some months later when my parents returned to check on my progress, my mother brought me a beautiful double-layer chocolate cake. This time I was ready, having bought all the Ex-Lax the pharmacy in Toms River had on hand. Using a hot plate, I heated the Ex-Lax until it liquefied, and then poured the sticky brown substance all over the cake in a most decorative way. With that, I placed the cake on my desk and invitingly left the door open to my dorm room. I wasn’t away long before this cake also grew legs, and, lo and behold, it also disappeared. The expected happened, and somewhat later I found the culprits in the boys’ bathroom, having a miserable time of it. Laughingly, I identified them as the culprits, but didn’t turn them in. It was enough that I caught them with their pants down!

Oh, one more thing.” He stopped and turned to me, putting both hands on my shoulders when I did the same. “Number three, I promise that we are going to hunt down those Carter bastards, find out every hole they wriggle into, and burn their villainous asses into so much fine ash. They hurt you, they tried to hurt me and my people here, and they hurt one of the girls you love.” While the words were like many he said in full on evil emperor mode, the tone and the look weren’t that twisted crazy I saw in him often. No, this was different. This was a father genuinely angry at the people who hurt his family. “I think how you kids put it is… Fuck. Those. Guys.

I can see why she picked you in the end, even if you had proven yourself to be a son of a bitch,” he said, his grip tight, smile as savage as his reputation. “When it comes down to it, you’d burn the entire fucking world to ash for a single smile from her lips, wouldn’t you?” “Is there a problem with that?” I asked, uncertain if it was meant as a compliment or not. Hail snorted. “I think heroes are supposed to put the good of all before their own selfishness. But you are selfish when it comes to her, utterly, unerringly selfish. She’s the one and only thing you won’t ever question, the one thing you put above all else. If the world had to end to see her safe, you’d light the fuse that blew it from existence.” “Damn right I would,” I agreed, no element of doubt in my tone. “Besides, a hero is never going to be what it takes to bring my father down. He moulded me into a villain and so that’s what I am. For her. For him. Damnation isn’t good enough for that piece of shit. And heroics aren’t good enough for her. So hand me the fuse, oh Savage King, because I’m ready to burn it all.” Hail grinned at me, no falseness to it, his grip on my shoulder turning to a push as he moved me towards the door, and I let him guide me along with him. “Let’s go get your queen a soul to destroy then, shall we?

Life has a way of laughing at your plans before sprinkling some chaos around like a maniacal evil genius. I'm pretty sure it even has the matching villain mustache to twirl as it fucks up people's well laid plans.

So if she wanted us to hate each other then I’d have to play my part in it. Because I couldn’t keep away from her, that much was becoming abundantly clear. So I’d just have to keep being her villain.

I think you’re my villain too.

You could never hate me as much as you want me.

Love is the frequency of magic.

A villain’s path is often paved with the best intentions.

Flowers don’t bloom for admiration, but they’re worshiped for their beauty.

I’ve been adored, pursued, worshiped – yet I have never belonged to anyone.

Men always underestimate me. They see someone delicate, not dangerous. I hate that.

Bastian Lightcroft isn’t just someone who takes. He keeps. He protects.

I shouldn’t have kissed him. I know that. But something inside me feels irrevocably changed, like I’ve crossed a line I’ll never come back from.

She’s all contradictions. Soft but stubborn. Gentle but unshaken. She carries herself like she’s delicate, but I’ve seen the way she stands her ground – not with force, but with a quiet defiance that never wavers. Maybe that’s what draws me to her – the quiet kind of resilience that bends but never breaks.

Because you bloom, despite all the rot in this world.

But Bastian Lightcroft is temptation incarnate – he makes me forget that the first bite is always the sweetest before the poison takes hold.

I don’t deserve her softness. I was meant for darkness and damnation, not the delicate hands of a woman who makes flowers bloom wherever she walks.

I’d walk into the darkness. Face whatever monsters lay in wait. If it meant keeping her safe. It’s not a grand, heroic notion. It’s a raw truth that crawls beneath my skin, more instinct than intention.

I’d protect her. I’d fight for her. I’d burn for her, if that’s what it took.

I wonder if she realizes what she does to me. How she unravels me with every soft word, every unguarded touch. How her very presence feels like a golden beacon of light shining on me – a light I never thought I’d deserve.

The kiss is urgent, demanding, and I melt into it like petals wilting beneath the heat of the sun.

You’re not a hero, Bastian Lightcroft. You’re a weapon. And weapons don’t get to choose where they strike.

Love is a promise. Loyalty is keeping it.

Her love is a seed of hope, a thread of light in the darkness that has clung to me for years.

A warmth blooms beneath my skin at the thought of her. The Heartstring bond sparks in my chest, a soft, persistent pulse. It feels like a part of her lingers with me, even when we’re apart.

I cling to him, breathing him in like a flower desperate for sunlight after too many long, dark nights.

I think heroes are supposed to put the good of all before their own selfishness. But you are selfish when it comes to her, utterly, unerringly selfish. She’s the one and only thing you won’t ever question, the one thing you put above all else. If the world had to end to see her safe, you’d light the fuse that blew it from existence.” “Damn right I would,” I agreed, no element of doubt in my tone. “Besides, a hero is never going to be what it takes to bring my father down. He moulded me into a villain and so that’s what I am. For her. For him. Damnation isn’t good enough for that piece of shit. And heroics aren’t good enough for her. So hand me the fuse, oh Savage King, because I’m ready to burn it all.

I felt like we were on a merry go round that wouldn’t stop turning. We kept coming back to this point and maybe I should have just accepted it. Because I couldn’t keep trying with her and having it thrown back in my face. So if she wanted us to hate each other then I’d just have to play my part in it. Because I couldn’t keep away from her, that much was becoming abundantly clear. So I’d just have to keep being her villain.

Declan stopped at the sight of me, his eyebrows rising. “Are you okay?” he asked, with just a touch of that gentle concern I’d heard in his voice that morning in my parents’ house. The last of my patience disintegrated. I looked at him, letting all the frustration running through me burn in my gaze. “If I’m not, are you actually going to do anything about it?” He opened his mouth and hesitated, his hand twitching at his side. That was all the answer I had to see. “All right then,” I said, and marched on past him without a backward glance.

My Bloodstone scion. My Ice Queen. My avenging angel. Mine, mine, mine. The thought rolled through me with the pounding of my heart, but I wasn't really aiming to make her mine. I was aiming to be hers. Her ally, her friend, her lover, her whatever-the-hell-she-needed-me-to-be, as long as it meant she'd have me, one way or another.

As far as I could see right now, it wasn't Rory breaking up the pentacle of scions. Malcolm was doing that all by himself.

Lennon was no hero. And she wasn't even sure she had the spine to call herself a villain.

Kiara isn’t just another girl. “She’s . . . different,” I admit, the words feeling oddly bitter as they leave my mouth.

Lennon was no her. And she wasn't even sure she had the spine to call herself a villain.