#i want to watch him die in a glue trap

[callaclysm]

when i’m in a “lying about my fav and donating other characters’ trauma to him so he can win the suffering olympics, erasing everything that makes him unique and lovable while simultaneously de-crediting the accomplishments and traumas of the other characters” competition and my opponent is a fanon tim drake stan

[groblinboy]

I will be normal after experiencing the RDR2 [REDACTED] scene (lie)

[luvtonique]

I wanna tell a little story. Just a little one. [Edit after typing: Yeah I ranted for a while. Oh well.]

I grew up with a dad who was extremely racist, extremely homophobic, and extremely abusive. Used to beat me and my brothers for 20+ years of my life, left us all with mental disorders and trust issues, you name it.

One such story of his homophobia and beatings is that my brother had a boyfriend at one point, and my dad hit him with a belt and screamed at him until he agreed to break up with said boyfriend, which he did.

Now cut ahead 20 years, my dad met an openly gay celebrity online and became friends with him. All the sudden, my dad was Mr. LGBT Pride. He was a writer, and suddenly started writing a book about a gay cowboy called Buck Justice. He would rent movies with gay actors in it, or gay themes, and was suddenly super pro gay.

It just left all of us disgusted, my brothers and my mom. We knew this man, but people on Facebook didn't. He had this huge friend group all the sudden of people calling him "Dad" and "Big Bob" and shit (When in reality, my dad called himself N*gger Bob and even had that written on the whiteboard next to his phone number), and he kept telling us all these stories and laughing and having a good time about how "Cool gay people are."

You see, it left a poor fucking taste in our mouth.

Because we had personally seen how horrible this man was. He beat us. He beat my bisexual brother. He was a fucking monster, but now that he was in some clique with a big popular movie star friend, he was suddenly this shining beacon of gay pride.

That's what bothers me when I see people on the internet acting the same way. I see the disingenuous nature of their actions. I see the popular people they're brown-nosing, I see the big popular bloggers and streamers they're trying to be friends with who are spouting the same bullshit.

And the reason it bothers me is because I know who these people are. I go back in their blogs like 1 month and find death threats, calls for violence, mental instability, extreme rage.

I go to their YouTube channels and find videos of them watching rats die on glue traps.

I get invited into their Discord servers and scroll back through the history of them talking with their friends and see just mountains of hate posting, calling for violence, wishing people would be killed, celebrating the death of people they hate.

That's why I don't do that shit. And why I don't tend to hang out with people who do. Because I know those people aren't really respectful people. I know they don't truly want equality.

I know the truth. From 20 years of belt marks on my back.

I know y'all are fucking disgusting people who are just pretending to be respectful advocates for equality and peace because the big celebrities and vloggers and streamers you wanna be friends with are saying the same shit.

You people aren't real. You are NPCs spouting NPC dialogue in hopes of getting some pseudo social credit score with big e-celebs while all it takes is 10 seconds of scrolling through your blog to find out you are the most disgusting, violent and unhinged person on the internet.

Case in point, y'ever seen a cat owner before?

Tell a cat owner you don't like cats.

Watch what happens.

It's been 9 years since I made a post saying I don't like cats and I still get those fucking psycho pieces of shit sending me extremely descriptive anon asks about how they want my throat to be ripped out by a dog in my sleep. That's who these people really are.

All it takes is one thing that sets them off and they go from your 11-year-running best friend of all time to a person who sends you multiple paragraphs of descriptive ways they hope you die.

I've learned from experience with my dad.

Y'all want equality? Just treat people with respect no matter what. Don't act like there's versions of people or groups of people who deserve more or less respect, because guess what, THAT'S CALLED PREJUDICE YOU FUCKING DIPSHIT.

If you have to say "I am LGBT friendly"

You clearly have something to hide (which I guarantee is like 10 posts down in your blog and is horrifically violent and descriptive) and you are the last person I would expect to actually be LGBT friendly, or any kind of friendly.

[h-didanart]

Don’t mind me, just uh, felt like writing in a fancy way I guess? Idk, I kinda just made this so yeah :P

———

“I would die for you” thinks the former killer, the little fox that’s now their little sibling yelling over some game he lost.

The cub is fierce but not yet trained in the ways of the world, he’d be ripped to shreds were he left alone. They have to make sure he won’t be thrown to the wolves, won’t spend days in hunger or long for comfort over the freezing nights, won’t run to the arms of a monster, that he won’t follow in their path.

He’s their brother, whom they may not have met before but will love as if they did, they’ll watch over him and strike any menace down, they’ll be the best older brother there ever was.

“I would kill with you” say the runaways, the smarter of their group not amused despite the compliment.

Realistically in a fight it would not be able to do much, having such injuries that limit its movement, not like it’d like to join in, death being that thing that’s better away than up close. They may annoy it by poking fun at its work, or its art, or its style, yet a better bud they couldn’t have, it understands the snide remarks, the accusations and infantilization, of others deeming you the crazy one, telling you your life is a lie.

It’s their friend, their sole source of support during all these years, and they’ll help complete its research as silly to them as it seems, just as they’ll come back at the end of the day and annoy it to no end.

“I will die with you” grumbles the warrior, the actor’s core still beating in spite of their broken chassis.

Such delicate machinery, a survivor of those ashen remains, it must be careful if it doesn’t want to lose its leg again. It’s that care he has such trust on, even through their first impressions, he knows it does what it must, they both do what they can, never exactly at peace in the world lest within the other’s arms.

They are his friend, the one who brought him back alive, who may not understand his way of feeling but will still be there to pat his back, he’ll do his best to keep it alive, and if he can’t then better to stick together, neither has anyone else as it stands.

“I will die for you” feel the twins at once, firmly entwined amongst their family.

It was a miracle they had stuck together, original three as compatible as identical magnets, the now five or six as united as a fly in a deadly glue trap. To have heard as life passed while they remained frozen had been a sweet agony, once the stasis traded with separation a new horror dawning, yet they managed to all hold together through the lies and manipulations and disappearances and pains.

They are their family just as much as they are to each other, they’ll keep them safe, they’ll keep them happy, to show they too can change and to truly join the whole family.

“I will kill for you” the demon tells the virus, holding her arm as they bounce towards the unknowing victims.

Calling themselves their Father and taking them in, they hadn’t expected to get much out of this, a pleasant surprise it was when they did. The only person who gets it he was, having been the core program they were based off, the insatiable hunger, an itchy need, what they had to do to live, not even the Morning Star could look so deeply.

She is their Father, not a creator or whatnot, the one who teaches them efficiency, cares about the means more than the results, they‘ll stand by him as long as they live, one does not just betray their kin.

“I will live with you” the vampire promises, both sleep deprived bots staring at the newest project, wondering how it could work.

With a face such as that not much good was expected, yet he pulled through time and time again, reliable, though never to himself it seems. He had helped through the horrors, helped through the numbness, they had learnt of his life and looked up for the stoicism, they make sure he won’t push his limits, they cannot have him throwing himself around all the time.

They may never say it but he is their brother, the one they wished they could’ve had since day one, and it’s such a dumb promise but they can’t help but make it, they’ll live alongside him, live for their talks, live like they owe him to, because they do, they owe him their lives, so they’ll live to make him proud.

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

i really enjoyed your yandere allie’s being broken up with post! could you do one for a yandere 2p axis as well? thank you in advance :) sincerely, a yandere lover

(Y/N) stood in the doorway, a bursting duffle bag digging into her left shoulder while her hands tightly grasped the strap. Licking her lips, she murmured.

“I-I can’t do this anymore. We’re over.”

Japan: Kurai’s dull, garnet eyes slowly drifted from the paperwork on his dark, cherrywood desk to his Sakura blossom. He noticed the crystal tears that threatened to bubble over like an unspoken plea for mercy, terrified quivers that made her shake and tremble like a kitten left to die in the coldest December blizzard.

A shark-like smirk split his face as he cooed her pet name. “We have only three days until we are wed, do you really want to dishonor your family by calling it off?”

Trying to leave Kurai’s web is like trying to pull a live rat off a glue trap. He will manipulate you into staying by pulling at your sense of duty. It starts by mentioning all the people who will be disappointed should you two split. If you continue to insist that you are done. Then it will begin to get violent.

Kurai drags you with a bruising grip to a hidden white room, the door locking as he leaves you in isolation. For two weeks all you see is white, even the very food and dishes become that vile color.

At the lock’s click and hinge's squeak, you hoped in vain that Kurai had come to his senses. Finally letting you leave this hell. In reality, you saw red. A lot of red, of much so that he claimed it was to shine the honor that your ‘threat’ had tarnished.

Germany: Groaning, Luther popped his neck with a loud crack as he raised his scarred body from the worn, leather couch. His blond brow raised in a questioning manner. “What are jou talking about?”

He watched with cold, tired eyes as (Y/N) took a deep breath before forcing the horrible statement again from her throat like a lion cub’s first roar.

Chuckling, Luther shook his head as he held his out his calloused hand.

 “Come now, Kätchen. Let’s nap on it before we do anything.”

Shaking her head, (Y/N) backed up. She screamed a loud no, before sprinting down the hall. Her bag swung and bruised her hip as slammed against the wooden door and fumbled with the slippery knob.

The click of the locking mechanism quickly became a loud slam as the door was forced to close again. (Y/N) now frozen still from the man she was trying to escape.

“Vhat made jou think I was asking?”

Luther is quick to forgive. A simple bow to his demands will quell his anger in ways that could be used against him. IF, he wasn’t already suspicious of all behaviors leading up to your foolish declaration. The missing objects, full cardboard boxes hidden in the closet, and failed attempts at distancing yourself from him.

Your announcement is what causes the iron fist to finally drop.

Similar to the ‘fighting and married’ bit, he begins with house arrest while retrieving all the items you’ve sneaked out. Any found attempts of planning to escape will lead Lutz to become more controlling and to harsher punishments.

What makes it worse, is that even on the darkest nights, locked in the rusted, gilded cage and draped in heavy, silver chains, Luther will remain outside the door. Murmuring promises of a better life and love, if only you agree to stay and obey. Forever.

Prussia: It had been two weeks since Wilheim let (Y/N) go. Two weeks of hoping she would return, of hoping she would realize how deeply their souls were intertwined. Fourteen days he had been pained by a wounded heart, that felt like each weak beat may be its last without his Maus.

He could bear it no longer when he watched as she set off with another man. The bright laughter and innocent blushes told him all he needed to know. With the flutter of his cloak, Wilheim set out to reclaim what he had lost.

Wilheim’s long, blood-stained life has taught him a lot. One such lesson is the use of free will. He hopes by letting you go for a time that you will come back, but as the time goes on without even a text from you, Wilheim begins to crack.

His cracks start small by stalking and recording. But as he hears how happy you are to be away and the proud compliments from friends about escaping the abuse, they become large fissures within his psyche

The last straw is your attempt to move on. That was the night he drags you back once the date is done. Questioning you on why you would betray him, did the time you spent together mean nothing?

With eyes like a burning ocean, Wil will force you into a small cell. Its tight walls only allow you to stand or sit. As the days wear on, you’ll find yourself taking comfort in Wilheim by your own volition.

He is the only one to open the door. So, doesn’t he deserve your love?

Austria: Jon cocked his head in a similar fashion to his little bat. Observing her intently as (Y/N) shuffled. She, at first, might have thought it was cute until a demonic laugh erupted from his pale throat. Heavy heaves for breath causing his chest to sink in showing his ribs in the tight, red shirt before expanding outward like an organic balloon, that no one could properly fill.

“That’z a funny yoke meine Queen.” Jon wiped a tear from his red eyes. “But, vhile jou here, did jou pick a place for dinner?”

(Y/N) shook her head quickly and muttered a no. “I-I’m breaking up with you, don’t you understand that?”

A loud sigh came from Jon as he stood from the leather couch. His heeled boots clicked against the wooden floor as closed the distance on the cowering woman.

“Of course I do, but” he looked at his shiny, black polished nails. “if jou really vant to, zhen go for it. Juzt don’t be zurprized vhen zomeone dizappearz.”

Jon lives in an odd mix of delusion and reality. He will take the smallest acts of obedience and view it as you submitting to and loving him. Every moment of rebellion shows him how far he still has to go until you are ready to be his Queen of the Night.

Since, you’ve decided to walk out the front door, consider the threat now a prophecy. He will start with the disappearance of a close friend. At first, you may dismiss it, until a body is found and the red words ‘come home’ are painted on the alley wall.

During your mourning, you try to tell the police of the possible lead. That Jon may be the cause of it all. Yet, it all falls on deaf ears as they explain that man doesn’t exist.

You, wanting justice, decide to confront him and run to his home, expecting a fight. Instead, you find an open door that reveals a dark house. Stepping inside, you feel a cold chill and gasp as the door shuts behind you, locking you in. Before you continue your forced path forward, you notice the shadows move like dancing snakes.

A quick glance and scratching at the light switch reveal no working lights. You scream when you feel the first shadow latch onto your ankle. Attempting to pull you through the floor. Shaking and pulling doesn’t help as more attach, eventually pulling you into an inky blackness. Ensuring that Jon’s pale skin is the brightest thing you see in your world of eternal night.

Spain: Armando’s eyes slowly lifted from the stacks of paper in front of him. His quill rested limply against his rough fingers as he took (Y/N)’s form in wholly.

 He noted her straight lip tremble at its edges, the subtle scrapping of her nails over the nylon bag straps as his silence continued. She shuffled an inch back whenever he twitched or breathed too loud, before shakily regaining the lost ground. Though, she remained tense, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

His question shattered the silence like a hammer to a mirror.

“You want to leave me?”

“Y-yes, I do.” She nodded as her heels dug against the wooden floor.

“Well,” Armando stood before walking to a large glass and oak display case. His hand gripped the wooden handle as he opened it, reached in, and pulled out a large, silver axe. “I think that we should let a simple game decide our fate.”

This man isn’t going to let you go. End of story.

But! That doesn’t mean it will be a simple no with slices to disable your legs. No, Armando doesn’t work that way. He’ll have fun by forcing you to play a game, his favorite to be specific.  Axe throwing.

If you are one to see the dark side of his world from the beginning, then you’ll know that your chances are low, even if you have thrown axes before. He won’t play fair, offering damaged axes and using a target that is just a little too far out of reach.

Most likely, you were kept in the dark. Not fully knowing the amount of blood that stained his hands. Your axes are sharp, but the target itself is dry, hardwood. Your muscles were never meant to throw with the power to dent such a mass, and it didn’t. You could only watch in fear as Armando hit consistently a bull’s eye each time from a different angle.

Depending on how badly you lose will determine what comes next. If Armando absolutely destroyed you, then he’ll keep his punishment simple. A quick snip to one of your Achilles tendons and being locked in a room with minimal contact for a couple of weeks with only him to rely on will help subdue your fire without snuffing it.

If you presented a challenge to him, then it would be worse. A debilitating injury to hinder your chances of escape mixed with a strict schedule of labor on the farm and obedience training. This mix will drown any thoughts of rebellion, leaving behind a fearful shell of yourself that is easier to control.

Italy: The silence of (Y/N)’s statement reverberated off the walls as Luciano set his wine glass on the dining room table. His leather-gloved hands came together to intertwine as a chinrest while he leaned back into the wooden chair—a large grin on his face as he sized up his darling fiancée.

“What made you think that was your call? When you agreed to be mine,” He stood, slamming his hands down as he leaned forward on the table, the taunting smile turned to a vicious snarl in a mere blink. “It meant until the day the world stopped turning when Italia would be wiped off the map and forgotten about by the fragile minds of mortal men. NOT because you got cold feet! NOT W-“

“I NEVER AGREED TO THE BLOODSHED!” She sobbed; the dam of emotions finally bursting. “You are nothing more than a monster that feeds off the mutilated flesh of your victims. Always looking for an excuse to kill again!”

(Y/N)’s declaration shocked Luciano like he had been bitten by a hidden viper. His eyes were wide as his focus never left the woman he loved.

She backed up a few steps. Hesitance caused her frame to tremble, before she turned her back to him. “I’m leaving, goodbye.”

It was only a few steps before the sound of maniacal laughter accompanied the sound of whistling metal. 

(Y/N) gasped, before collapsing. As the laughter came closer, she saw three knives embedded within her flesh. All lay within her lower half, making the mere thought of running from the mad Mafioso impossible.

“Oh, Tesoro.” Her head snapped up to view the smiling Italian. “You’ll be staying with me forever.”

After your shouting match and injury, Luciano will decide it's time to retrain. After all, you’ve shown him that your loyalty was false. Nothing more than a piece of tin that needed to be forged into something stronger. Something steadfast.

He will take the time to rebuild you. Each step toward what he wants means healing, rebellion just creates additional injury. Eventually, you’ll either break into a creaked and numbed doll, or you’ll be the perfect wife, trustworthy enough to join Luciano in the flames.

Romano: (Y/N)’s stomach flipped as Fabrizio stepped closer, his questions ignored as she turned her back. She was ready to run, pushing her legs to their limit as she forced her stride to be at its max.

It wasn’t enough.

A small dart with a fuzzy tip, no thicker than the graphite of a #2 pencil and no longer than a standard ballpoint pen, had sailed into her thigh.

The mosquito-like sensation caused her to pause. Gingerly, (Y/N) tapped the object, before pulling it free. As she stared at it the world began to blur and sway. One dart became two, then four and more. Her attempts for balance failed as a numbing sensation crawled from the hit point.

Falling due to weakened legs, (Y/N) gasped as the marble floors caught her. She heard Fabrizio speaking, his voice muffled as blackness started to flood from her periphery. As the drug took its hold, the last thing she felt was the warmth of her devil’s hands.  

To Fabrizio, it was a sin to end the relationship. He has done so much for you; creating fabulous outfits, spoiling you with various luxuries, and most important of all gifting you something precious, his love. When you ended it, allowing him no time to rebuttal, he threw away his dramatic flair. A quick shot of a special sedative, and you’re down and out.

As you’re fainting, Fabrizio will give his monologue. He rants about how he won’t allow one of the purest things to grace him to just walk away. No, it was time you learned your place.

When you finally awake, the world feels off. Firstly, you’re upright with legs bound to steel bars. Secondly, it’s a new, strange room. Your stand is surrounded by glass-encased mannequins, all dressed in outfits from many different eras. Some outfits go back further than the Dark Ages.

A subtle tightening sensation on the chest would distract you. Taking away from the strangeness of the room. Looking down you would see a white, velvet corset with silver steel rivets. Your breath quickened as the constriction continued, while your arms felt paralyzed. Black spots would reappear in your vision as a hushed chuckle brushed against your ears.

“Mia Bambola, it’s-a time you learn to listen.”

[anamericangirl]

Anon from before: "You say you're not a bigot but your fans are bigots, teehee"

I guess Undertale is a video game about putting sewing needles inside of cookies and giving them to artists you don't like at a convention because that's who the fandom is.

I guess Steven Universe is a show about bullying people into attempting suicide and then telling the creator of the show that they were justified in bullying the victim because she drew a fat character skinny, because that's who the fandom is.

I digress, how the fuck do people use the argument "Your followers determine who you are?" Are those people so susceptible to brainwashing that every YouTuber they watch completely changes all of their personal opinions and political standpoints every time they put out a video, and so they assume everyone else must do the same, and therefore if an audience is bigoted, the blogger must also be bigoted?

For people who preach about individuality all the time they sure are just openly admitting they're sheep who just mimic the opinions of everything they watch.

It's like when people said "Trump's racist because the KKK endorses him" and "PewDiePie encourages his followers to kill people because a killer said 'Subscribe to PewDiePie' before killing people."

I had a person arguing liberal shit at me and I looked at his YouTube channel and he had a video of him watching a rat die on a glue trap and breathing heavily, so I guess the entire liberal party are sick fucking psychopaths! (Except that's actually true)

It's because they are a hive mind and because they look to YouTubers, tv shows, bloggers and entertainers to define them and tell them what to think and who to be, they think everyone is that pathetic. So if one of the millions of people that subsribe to pewdiepie says subscribe to pewdiepie before killing people, that must mean pewdiepie is a bad person who is responsible for that killing.

They are not capable of rational thought or understanding that a person is not defined by the people who follow them, they are defined by their own words and actions.

But also those idiots just loooooooooooooooooooove blaming anything or anyone other than the person responsible for the bad thing. If someone is a murderer it's not his fault it's whoever he follows on YouTube because they just don't want to acknowledge personal responsibly because if they acknowledge it that means they'll have to admit they're not the perpetual victims they claim to be.

[my-ass-is-where]

Past Doc and current Dark 👀👀👀👀👀

To say the room is tense is to say the ocean is a bit of a puddle.

Past Doc refuses to sit. He stands, watching Dark the way a mouse caught in a glue trap may watch the owner of the house.

Dark is sitting, hand folded in his lap, avoiding looking at Past Doc the way one would avoid looking at a people-shy cat to make it feel comfortable. Safe.

Past Doc makes no moves.

Current Dark is afraid to even shift to take pressure off his bad leg, lest it make Past Doc feel threatened.

The tension is not broken, but is certainly changed, when Current Doc and Past Dark just so happen to walk in at the same time. They stop, locking eyes. Current Dark watches with wide eyes, and Past Doc almost jumps to the defense of his future, very human and drainable self.

Current Doc rolls his eyes at Past Dark's haughty, self-important posture.

Past Dark tsks. "I stop placing an importance on manners, then?"

Current Doc doesn't even hesitate before tackling Past Dark, pulling a silver pendant out of his sweatpants pocket. Past Dark hisses and bucks, tossing Current Off, but Current Dark and Past Doc alike both catch Current Doc before he's even slightly in danger of so much as a bruise from hitting the floor!

Past Doc and Current Dark share a look as Current Doc stands back up. A sort of understanding passes between them, silently- Past Doc can't forgive Current Dark, because Past Doc is still being actively harmed and can't see past it. Current Dark can't quite apologize to Past Doc, because Past Dark will keep doing what he's doing until he changes.

it's best for them to not force any interactions. However...

Current Dark pulls his sleeve down and uses it like a gloves, holding his hand out to Current Doc. Current Doc hands it over, and Current Dark turns to face his past self. "Leave the room or I give this to your Doc."

Past Dark doesn't even blink. "I die, and you won't exist."

"How lucky for me that Doc doesn't kill, then." Current Dark does as he said, taking off his jacket and lending it to Past Doc so he too can prevent burning his hand on the silver chain.

Past Doc is in shock for a moment. Past Dark isn't much different.

"You- what?" Past Doc looks at Current Dark with complete confusion.

"My Doc has worked through things, and taken a fair few shots at me." Current Dark and Doc step aside, and Current Dark nods to his past self. "Take a few yourself. For catharsis. I know for a fact he won't learn his lesson for a good while yet, and he can't get much worse than he is."

Past Doc looks at Past Dark, who frowns. "Don't you dare."

Current Doc puts a hand on Past Doc's shoulder. "I know you're feeling very conflicted about it," he says, "But, I promise a punch or two won't make you a terrible person in this case. He's literally controlled by a demon sliver right now."

"You're basically punching a demon," Current Dark agrees.

"You're both encouraging him to assault me? And you claim I'm the demon-possessed among us?"

"There's no one here who isn't either currently or formerly possessed," Current Doc says dismissively. "You want me to get my Yancy to punch you? Huh? Or Host, and his baseball bat?"

"I'm not going to punch him." Past Doc tucks the pendant in his pocket. "... Right now."

"You can anytime. Full support," Current Dark says.

"... Thanks."

(Current Fam are just so chaotic and supportive)

[tentacledsnakelover]

The Owl House Finale Rewrite Part 2

I love many things about The Owl House, from its animation, characters, world, music, and themes. However, I feel the finale, good as it was, was far from perfect, and there are many glaring issues, from character retcons, to unexplored lore, lack of nuance, and several other issues. I am by no means an expert writer, and I have nothing but respect for Dana and her team. I give them the benefit of the doubt because we all know corporate disney has given them much trouble in making this show. So here is how I would rewrite the finale. Keep in mind some of the stuff I mention may not be feasible to include even if the writers wanted to put them into the story.

The special starts out with Luz, Eda, King, the Hexsquad, Camila, and the Collector watching as Belos possesses the Titan, and they narrowly escape the now deserted archives as Belos destroys it with his new body. The Collector explains via a flashback that he told Belos titan hearts can continue to beat long after they die (I find it hard to believe only Belos knew what the Titan's heart and the rest of the isles didn't) and that Titans are technically stronger than Collectors, even being immune to the star species. Belos wanted to use the Draining spell as his first plan because he believed possessing the Titan wouldn't be as effective (In this rewrite, I headcanon that the Draining Spell would have concentrated all magic and used it to destory the demon realm planet, as in canon, Belos' plan was just to kill everyone with sigils) and he made the Titan plan his plan B.

Having gotten to the heart during the previous special, Belos managed to possess the titan. The Collector attempts to try and get through to Belos using kindness and forgiveness like in canon, and like in canon, Belos takes advantage of this to try and destroy the Collector. Luz and King both fly up to intercept the shot and are knocked to the ground, both presumed dead and covered in the ever growing Belos-fungus. Luz and King's friends and family angrily try to stop Belos, but to no avail.

Meanwhile, Luz and King's souls end up in the In-Between realm, where they meet Papa Titan. The Titan explains while they are dead, their souls have not yet submerged in the In-Between liquid, and thus, have not fully passed on, giving them a chance to heal their bodies and return their souls to them.

When Papa T imprisoned the Collector, the force of the spell burned his body away, killing him, though his heart managed to remain intact, and is still beating, thus, making him technically still alive. He is now tethered between life and death, and his soul, like all souls, has passed to the In-Between, a type of realm that acts as the glue for other realms, like the frosting on a cake. Papa T has been able to use the strange boxes to watch over King. He explains the cubes are the Collector's magic. When he trapped the Collector, he used the speaking tablets the Collector gave him as a catalyst, and when the Collector got imprisoned, some of the magic inside the tablets leaked into the In-Between and formed the cubes. Frustratingly, Luz, King, and Papa T aren't 'alive' enough to use the cubes to speak to people, only watch.

After hearing how the Titan took his anger out on the Collector, she nervously asks if they are as bad as Belos. The Titan, decides he can't sugarcoat the harsh truth and asks Luz rhetorically if Amity's decision to bully Willow was justified because she was protecting her, or that Lilith shouldn't face consequences for ruining Eda's life just because she didn't think things would get so bad, or that Hunter should receive death like Belos because he thought he was doing the right thing.

Papa T explains that while Belos' desire to save humanity from witches comes from a genuine place (This is one of my biggest gripes with the finale. The show went out of it's way to hint that Belos and Caleb might have had a complex and interesting story, only to never answer any of the questions fully outside of vague, second hand tales, and reduce Belos to a hate sink. Belos needs to be stopped but acknowledging the nuance and complexity of a character is not the same as excusing their actions), his belief that he is doing good means his actions are justified. Belos is an extremist, and anyone can become like him if they believe their goals are noble enough to excuse their actions.

This strikes a chord with Luz, who has been conflicted with guilt over leaving her mother, as well as her other past actions. King's soul then starts to glow, and Papa T explains Belos inadvertently sealed his fate. Baby titans like King have a special adaption where when they are on the verge of death, or get extremely hurt, their bodies activate a special Titan adrenaline rush, that makes them grow and able to use magic for a short time. King embraces his dad and his soul leaves the inbetween as it returns to his body. King can use his temporary powers to heal Luz so she can lead the fight against Belos, and destory the heart, ending Belos' possession of the Titan.

Luz is worried that she will never be able to stop Belos because she doesn't have any innate magical abilites. The Titan assures her she never needed any innate abilities. The Titan then reveals because he is dead, he never had any control over the glyphs, and thus, couldn't reveal them to her. He certainly never would have let Belos find them. Luz and Belos found them all on their own, but Luz found them faster because Belos never took the time to look for them, and actively feared the magic of the Isles (My headcanon is that Belos etched Glyphs onto his body as a reminder to himself that the glyphs were unholy magic, and only brought suffering to mankind). Luz's confidence is brought up, and her soul is brought back to her body as it is healed by King.

Back on the isles, King reawakens in a burst of energy, and heals Luz, before growing to massive size as he begins to wrestle the massive form of Belos. Luz informs her shocked and very relieved family and friends that King won't be able to restrain Belos forever, and explains they need to destroy the heart.

While Luz and her allies fly to the heart, the Collector, humbled by his inability to heal Luz and King, as well as his lesson on empathy and ethics, is unable to use his magic to fight Titan Belos, so he goes around the isles to protect the freed citizens. With Belos distracted wrestling King, the citizens of the isles rally and begin fighting the infection of Belos-fungus (This could be a nice scene for all the minor background and fan favorite characters like the Blight Twins, Viney, Skara, etc. to do something). This keeps Belos even more distracted as Luz and her friends make their way to the heart.

At the heart, Luz's allies help her distract Belos and she manages to slap a light glyph on the heart, destroying it, and all the remaining Belos fungus. The castle collapses around them, but everyone is saved by Hooty, who coils around everyone, shielding them from the debris. As the last of the Belos fungus is wiped away, King returns to his normal size, and everyone embraces.

But they notice a tiny bit of Belos glop, and corner it, a hissing, furious, Belos tries to possess someone else, but he is trapped. The Collector has a fitting idea for what to do with Belos, and they trap him in the In-Between. (I found Belos' defeat unsatifying, as it unintentionally makes him a martyr by his standards. It also doesn't allow Hunter to get any last moments with his abuser outside of the fight in Thanks to Them, but this feels more karmic to me, as Belos reneged on his deal to free the Collector).

The Collector agrees to stay around, unlike in canon, so he can help fix the damage he caused. He is living with Eda and King, and spends time helping to repair damaged buildings, and he is forming a budding friendship with Hunter and Lilith, too, who are also helping to rebuild the isles.

Luz and Camila also reconcile, and Luz begins to move past her black and white worldview. Camila allows Luz to spend time with her friends and visit the isles, but to take her life on Earth seriously too. The finale ends with the timeskip, as Luz celebrates her Quinceanera with her new friends and family.

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

Not a request, just wanted to share these.

A fifth employee that got cast out due to their uncooperativeness and radical ideas. They reside deep underground where they practice their craft of welding metal, out of their contraptions they make a stable home durable as a bomb shelter. In their comfort they didn't expect any visitors, especially not the golden glow of the keystone.

—----------------------------

A botanist that acts like Jebediah's and Tricky's peaskeeper (to varying degrees of success). They wear garments reminiscent of the grim reaper and weld a sickle to harvest the crops that they grew in their greenhouse. Is appointed Nevada's official, and only, gardener. (i have a much more detailed version of this but it's like five pages long).

—----------------------------

Daimos isn't the only one that dissented, a young ex agent, throughout knowing each other they build a sibling like relationship. Although they're not in the main SQ crew they're still an honorary member.

—----------------------------

An escaped test subject finds themselves in the middle of a Zed outbreak, they scratch, kick and punch their way through the undead gaining a few scratches and bite marks themselves. Out of the rubble of undead they find Victor who's surprised at their resilience, and immunity.

These are just your ocs aint they ;p interesting ideas tho!

I imagine there's basically an employer for every kind of need, so one capable of tearing up the earth and forging weapons would be plausible. A large and wide figure, a crooked back from hours of clawing at the earth and leaning over a forge, bashing scalding steel to create unbreaking blades.

Bright embers floating from deep orange eyes, irritated to be bothered by someone, someone who somehow survived (re floated passed) all their traps. A deep husky voice, like that of a heavy chain-smoker from centuries of ash inhalation. "You dare to break into my sanctuary? Turn back, lest your body be torn asunder to forge a new blade, mortal."

But when they realise Jeb just wants his sword repaired they're cool lol.

- The botanist is kinda along the same lines as my gal Jack, but she ain't need to play peacekeeper, Tricky becomes a little more civilised around 'the pretty lady.' He has vague memories of her being kind to him when he was still Hofnarr.

Alas the reaper motif is a cool way of taking it, it makes them fit in with the environment a lot better, dark clothing and a massive weapon is all you need to be 'normal' out there. A great and watchful harvester, terrifying to behold, but incredibly gentle.

A starving grunt tries to ignore the hunger pangs, tries to think of anything else, when a dark shape comes into view. The reaper, Stygian, has finally come to claim him, a terrible life with a silent end, how depressing. A basket of carrots and other veggies comes from below the robes. A reaper, yes, but of the grim? No.

-

There's 100% some other dissented agents chilling in/around the main SQ base, inspired by a tale of two grunts defying everything and building up a resistance to the boot that crushes the little guy. Sometimes a few clones from a batch dissent, and the rest of the group pays for it, they must all be defective and therefore must die.

Deimos is quick to bond with just about anyone, and with shared history? He's stuck like glue to whoever. Dissenters be damned, right? Well damnation is more fun when you're together.

Having gone through some of the worst torture from his fellow agency men {due in part to being an orphan, and being trans in my opinion}, he'll comfort and reassure just about anyone else who's lived that hell. You got out, you survived the worst, and now you're fighting back. Fuck yeah, stick it to the man.

-

Vic would absolutely drag this person to Skinner, or Doc, maybe even both if he can catch them together. If you can be resistant to ZEDs, surely there's a cure right? Where better to start looking than in someone incapable of transforming.

[nebulaleaf]

he's literally so scrimbly babygirl. he's a catboy and a trickster and just a normal guy but also the weirdest guy. he's a freak he's weirdchamp he's normalcore he's neutralpog. i want to put him in a jar and shake him. watch him die in a glue trap. tuck him into bed and leave him a glass of water on the nightstand. hit him with a car. hold a door open for him. ruffle his hair and give him a thumbs up. best character hands down and he says 2 sentences max you WISH you had that much autistic swagger but you dont. i dont. nobody does. its all his and even he doesn't live up to it

sorry my

dem ons

[that-one-weird-kid-from-school]

In this post from a few days ago, I made an eleven-part comment about a random, non-meaningful daydream about gore that the prospect of mousetraps really reminded me of, and now I'm putting them in a separate post so that I can easily look back to it.

Here it is:

To be honest, this is not so bad, getting killed by a trap-wise, our head gets hit by the metal bar and immediately gets crushed by the insane force, and before you even realize it, your brain has been pulverized by your own crushed skull.

That is if you're smart enough to put your head in there, it happened to me, like, a good five times, that my hand gets hit by the trap instead, when that happens, you don't die, your arm is unmistakably broken, and every second it hurts like it's in the process of being amputated, but you don't die.

And now you're trapped there, pinned by your arm underneath that metal pole, the shock from it all makes you too weak to lift this thing up to escape, so you just stay there and yell for anyone to help you, all the while a sadistic little bait sits right in front of you and watches you beg, after you calm down and finally accept your fate, he comes a little closer, and ends your suffering, because this mousetrap is supposed to be quick.

But like, that trap is a moment or a few hours long, it kinda depends on how stubborn you are, and people don't like the loud it makes and also the bloody mess it leaves behind, so they constantly give me, and I constantly fall for the glue mousetrap.

I make my way walking when I see Jevil standing over there, with a strange expression on his face and not touching the floor, but that's normal for Jevil; he is constantly flying, so I don't have any problem going to him to say hi.

But then, my foot steps on the glue and sticks to it, which causes me to lose balance and fall head-first into the glue, all my limbs are now impossible to lift up, no matter how much I try to move, I just can't do anything, and when I look up to Jevil for help, he just disappears, he doesn't want to involve himself in this, he doesn't want me to think that I have a single chance because this mousetrap is not supposed to be quick.

I try desperately to move, to wiggle my way out of this, because this is quite the uncomfortable pose to die in. Hours have passed with zero progress, and my body is plagued with exhaustion, but when there is nothing else to do, I might as well try a little bit more to see if anything happens.

Eventually, my body just can't take it any more, and I pass out, but the feeling of stickiness, the smell of glue, and the uncomfortable pose make my mind always think of that pesky mousetrap, so I can't have a moment of dream where I am somewhere else. But then, I wake up from an unpleasant feeling in my back; a bug has decided to use my blood as food, but this time, I can't shoo it away, so it keeps happily biting away at my flesh.

More time passes, and the number of bugs increases. The thing about bugs is that they mostly consume decay because the scent is quite strong and doesn't move or kill them; I am now one of those things.

The time keeps passing, the only thing I can think of is if maybe, at any moment, something will happen and I will be out of here, the stinging from the bites keeps me from having a restful sleep, and that weird feeling on a spot I scraped fore might be because someone played their larva in it.

The bug situation seems to be getting worse, but I'm not worried if they will become too painful because I will die of dehydration first, and I do; one day, I just don't realize that I closed my eyes, and I never bother to open them.

[just-jordie-things]

Headcanon request: jjk characters (dudes & ladies) with an s/o who is a kindhearted animal lover. They won't kill the bugs, just put them in a cup and bring them outside. Their s/o is kind to basically every little non-curse critter out there, including the kind most would find gross (i.e. bugs, reptiles, amphibians, rats, etc )

Inspired by something that happened to me at work where I helped a little field/house mouse.

gojo satoru

as we saw with the ant scene, i don't think he tends to kill bugs either. but he obviously has the means to do so with ease

but now when he comes across a little bug, he's gotten into the habit of picking them up and putting them outside.

just because you're always adamant on making him watch the spot where that spider was while you grab a cup to safely transport him in.

you catch him picking up a ladybug one day and setting it outside by some plants and your heart is so warmmm how sweet and adorable is he?

fushiguro megumi

is probably a bug squasher himself tbh but it's not personal. he just doesn't think about it the way you do.

but you're walking home on a gloomy day and it had rained earlier, leaving dozens of worms scattered homeless across the sidewalk, and he changes his mind completely as you begin to scoop them up and carefully place them back in the grass before the sun could come out and dry them up

he might think it's sort of silly and he might tease you, but after that, megumi is always considerate of the little bugs he finds. he'll even help you the next time some worms need re-homing

kugisaki nobara

is grateful that you'll take care of any little bugs or creatures because she's definitely terrified to

i don't think she'd want them to die, but either way she definitely isn't going near it

lucky she has big strong and brave you to handle any and all creepy crawlies that try to disturb her!!

inumaki toge

thinks it's so sweet how considerate you are of all life big and small

after finding a poor mouse in a glue trap you'd made it your personal mission to free the little guy, no matter how long you'd have to spend soaking it up in dawn dish soap

you're worried sick about the little rodent but as soon as it's free and safely in a little box, you're eagerly taking it outside to release it, and toge's never seen you look happier

he definitely goes to yaga after that and together you both replace all the outdated traps on the grounds with safer, live traps, so no more little creatures could get hurt in the future

okkotsu yuuta

i think what would be funniest is if his introduction to you was through a mission, where he sees how ruthless you can really be XD

only to have you stop him in his tracks one day because there's a bumblebee with a damaged wing on the ground.

suddenly you're cooing and fussing over the poor thing, all sad doe eyes and pouty lips as you ask it how it got hurt.

he watches as you carefully get it to crawl on a small sheet of paper before sliding it into a smaller box to keep it safe while you carry it inside.

the care with which you make a little dish of sugar water for it to drink from and the softness of your voice as you sweet talk it has him swooning but also very alarmed by how many sides to your personality there is

zen'in maki

was definitely a bug killer before she met you. she probably killed bugs for mai back at the zen'in compound, and would probably assume that you'd want her to do the same for you

but as her hand is flying down to smack a bug on the table, you're grabbing her wrist to stop her, a wild and frantic look in your eye as you assure the little guy shouldn't die

she's probably all "heh? little guy?" at first

but it's so cute that you scoop the tiny ant into your palm and carefully set it in the grass, away from your food and back to where it belongs

it might take her a while, but she tries not to kill bugs on instinct anymore. you fall in love with her the day you see her grabbing a cup to let a spider out.

[xishroomxi]

I’m writing again, because of you. You must have really done a number on me. Here goes,

You’d die for me, but not stop drinking. You’d die for me, but not live. You couldn’t live for anyone but yourself or your next drink. Stuck between caring for myself and caring for your addiction, somewhere in between there, the lines blurred and I couldn’t tell if I was loving myself or if I was loving you or if I was hating you or if I was pulling myself away from you like a mouse on a glue trap, but that’s what it was to try to pull you away from the bottle, something you could never do for me, but you’d die for me. Right?

I believed every word you said. I believed when you said you’d change, I believed when you said you were doing better. I believed when you painted a picture of the life we’d have together, but I didn’t know behind the painting was the bottle that you told me you’d never put down. “I don’t want to change”. Well, I don’t want to love you. I do want to love you, I do love you, with everything that I am. I want to love the you that loves me, the you that puts me first, the you that makes me laugh. Not the you that lies to me or the you that can’t make it right. It’s so difficult when there are two different people inside of you, and regrettably I love them both, so very deeply. I want to be the shot you take, (only because someone offered it to you though). I want to be the one more beer, (the one that turns into 5.) I want to be the drink you get on your way to my house that you forget to mention to me, I want to be the hair of the dog when you really overdo it the night before. (But it’s the last time you’re going to do that, right? At least… until the next time.) I want to be the can that you crack after my son calls you dad and I want to be the first sip you take that burns all the way down, that’s the feeling you love right? The one you love more than me, more than him, more than us, more than her. I want to be the thing that draws you in, that you just can’t let go of. But you can’t let that happen. You have priorities, but none of them include me. I can no longer beg, or plead, or cry, or watch the self destruction for my own good and nothing has torn my being to shreds in such a way ever before. I wish you were for my own good. I hope one day you’ll realize that the weight of a bottle in one hand will never balance the scales of the weight of the world in the other. It’s what I would’ve given you, but I guess you already have it. Right? Maybe one day you’ll realize the whole problem IS that you’d die for me

[captainstevenjohnstonme]

Mutant Moth.

When I walked into the kitchen I heard a rustling sound coming from the pantry.

My first thought was maybe I had a mice or cockroach, so imagine my surprise when I opened the door and hundreds of tiny moths flew out.

I grabbed a can of fly spray and gave the pesky insects a good spurt but it had no effect on them at all.

The moths weaved and dodged the insecticide like they were dancing to the flight f the bumble bee.

So they want a fight do they? well i will give them one.

I went to the store and bought a few pantry moth baits then headed back home whistling the theme from 'Rocky'.

The baits work by attracting the male moths to a female's pheromone that causes the randy moths to stick to the glue on the bait where they die without losing their virginity.

Like seagulls swooping down onto a chip the moths divebomb the baits and by midafternoon most of the moths are stuck fast.

I grab a cold beer from the fridge to celebrate my victory then sit down to watch a footy game on the TV.

At 6o'clock I ring to have a pizza delivered and notice that most of the trapped moths have begun to turn black on the edges like a teenage goth.

When the food arrives I eat it heartedly and wash the pepperoni down with another beer.

A couple of hours later I am searching netflix for something decent to watch when a single mishappen moth lands on the coffee table and gives me the death stare.

'Holy crap maybe I should lay off the beers for a while?' I mutter to myself, but this is my house and I will do what I want.

After I open the beer I check out the bait that is on the running board in the kitchen and the moths to my drunken eyes all look at me as they all wriggle free leaving behind an assortment of wings, legs and some even fly off leaving behind their heads.

Soon all of the baits are moth free and my house is full of the deformed creatures.

I don't have an energy to deal with this shit so I run upstairs to my bedroom. close and lock the door than jam a few shirts beneath the door just in case the moths learnt how to crawl before they could fly.

In the morning I wake feeling a little seedy than suddenly remember what happened last night so I jump out of bed put an ear to the door but there is complete silence so I remove the shirts beneath the door and walk downstairs half expecting to see the living room swarming with reincarnated moths but there is nothing to be seen.

I have been having trouble with my weird neighbor so I am hoping that the moths flew over there crawled up his arse and built a giant nest.

Now that would be the ultimate revenge.

A month has gone by and my life has returned to normal, I haven't seen a single moth.

Maybe they have flown south for the winter or gone back to where they belong but no such because when I go to check the letterbox after work I got swooped by what I thought was a magpie because it was their breeding season but when I looked up I saw that I had been attacked by one of the moths.

This moth was the size of a small bird and had half of its head missing.

Soon it was joined by around fifty other moths in with various deformities.

The flock swooped down attacking mainly my face and neck region and luckily I was able to make it back to my car but I had received quite a few nasty bites so I decided to drive to the hospital to have them checked out.

The doctor on duty asked me how I received the bites I told him that I had been attacked by a few crazy magpies. 'That is strange because magpies Don't usually attack in groups.'

'What can I say doc, these birds were out of control. I could of been killed.'

The doctor cleans my wounds before sowing them closed with 37 stitches. then he gives been a bottle of painkillers and sends me on my way.

I am tempted to go to the police station and tell them that I had been attacked by a flock of giant mutant moths but I have no desire to get locked up in the loony bin so I drive home open the garage door by remote and drive in.

Then I lower the door and wait until it is fully closed before exiting my car.

After putting a few slices of leftover pizza in the microwave I slump on the couch to rest but than I hear a loud noise coming from the roof of my house and when I stand up a few tiles fly past a side window and crash to the ground outside.

Then I hear the sound of something like one hundred birds peaking at the paster board on the ceiling but I know that it isn't birds up there so I say a prayer and make a run for it but I don't get very far before the ceiling collapses and a huge flock of mutant moths fly down.

I duck and weave like a featherweight boxer, well middleweight because I have put on a few kilo's but I cant avoid being broadsided by a giant moth the size of seagull.

The pain is intense when I feel my left hip shatter and I fall to the ground in agony.

The moths are flying around the living room in a frenzy and some even fly into the drywall leaving holes the size of tennis balls.

I struggle to my knees, grit my teeth to mask the pain but the effort is all too much and I crash to the floor and when I look at my hip I yelp in agony because a bone has broken through the skin and l know that I am in deep trouble.

One of the seagull sized moths slams into my face and I am again prostrate on the floor.

All I can do is roll over onto my back in an attempt to ease my pain and hope that the moths just go and leave me alone but I know that that is wishful thinking.

Most of the moths have gone but around ten gather around me on the carpet then fly back and forth covering me in gossamer threads and soon I am covered from head to toe with only my face left exposed.

One of the mutant moths lands on my upper chest and we look at each other eye to eye.

The moth probes my neck a few times with its proboscis before ramming it in.

I am now wrapped tightly in a cocoon with no means of escape plus my insides will soon turn into a soupy mush ready for the moths to feast on whenever they choose.

My eyes close and I begin to drift away.

THE END

Part Two coming soon.

[slicznymartwy]

taking some liberties here with this one but !! also it’s not proof read or spell checked tee hee sorry guys

it’s billy centric but i included a little bit of self insert towards the end becauseeeeeee i love him <3

contains: canon minor character death (the girl in the park)

billy has been staying in the attic for a while now, and he can feel something building up. he always felt his emotions so strongly - his highs were like mountains and his lows were at the bottom of the ocean - but lately everything feels worse. it feels like he’s been wearing a wool sweater for a week straight and he’s finally realizing how raw and itchy his skin is.

once, when he was a kid, he had burnt his hand on the stove and mother put ice on the red blister. he looks outside at the snow on the ground and opens the window.

he hasn’t got a coat, but when the sun rises it’s not so bad. he walks a lot, through trees and on sidewalks. he stares at the college students, maybe his age or maybe a little younger. he imagines his life if he was fixed, what he would look like with glasses and a suit. he stands in the library for a few minutes until the smell of dusty books made his stomach turn.

life seems so easy in the sunlight. nothing bad happens to these people. they’re smiling and laughing. billy laughs at himself sometimes and laughs at people when they get scared. but no one’s scared here, just billy is.

the sun starts to set and billy goes back to the trees. he wanders for a while, feeling cold without a jacket. he wants to go home, wants to go back to his attic with his phone and with claude. his fingers itch to dial his favorite string of numbers. he goes through the motions as he walks, pretends his putting his finger on the rotary and spinning it around and around.

he laughs quietly when he imagines the stupid noises they make when he calls them. sluts. all of them, sluts. he could fuck any of them and they’d thank him. they’d beg for it. the sky is black and, even with the cold, he feels like he’s burning inside. he’s boiling over on the stove. the water is hissing and steaming and he wants to go back to the attic and scream at all of them until they die with bleeding ears.

he comes to a clearing in the trees and sees that he’s in the park. he’ll have to walk through it to get to the house, but there are still people walking through. he hears something that sounds like music, but it’s so grating that he wants to tear his hair out. he wants to go home, it’s right there, why can’t he go home?

he’s stuck, like someone put glue on his shoes. he stands by the trees and watches people walk past in their winter coats. they’re still laughing and smiling, but it’s like they’re laughing at billy. they’re evil and mean and they want to hurt him because they know what he’s done.

billy sees you while he’s unraveling. you’re alone, and the night is quiet again - that terrible blaring noise has stopped - and billy watches you watch the frozen pond water towards the tree line. you’re not smiling like the other fuck sluts he’s seen all day. you don’t look very happy at all.

he starts to walk closer to you, freed from whatever trap he was in before. he’s not sure what he wants, he’s not sure if he’s ever been sure about anything. maybe he just wants to meet you. wants to look into your eyes and see that there’s another person on earth that feels as lonely as he does.

from a distance he walks around you until he’s behind you. the white moon shines it’s light down on the frozen water and the snow around you. he’s about to start the journey to you when it starts again - ugly loud noise that ruins everything. you look to the side where it’s coming from then sigh loudly. you hang your head and start to trudge through the snow back to the paved path. billy watches you leave, chest heaving.

slowly, he turns towards the source as well. he’s boiled over, he thinks as he walks towards her. there’s no more ice to fix his burn, and it’s just going to have to fester.

idk why when i write billy it never occurs for me to let him leave the house .. like he literally was outside at the start …… i want to write some Outside Billy

[lonelyl00n]

02 | GIRL OF THE MONTH

Summary: After accidentally entangling herself with the school's playboy (and her friend's ex-boyfriend), Y/N conspires with his ex-girlfriends to break the jerk's heart, while destroying his reputation. Based off the movie "John Tucker Must Die".

00 / 01 / 02 / 03

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

02 | FROM THIS POINT ON

If you don’t think that waking up in an unfamiliar room is a bad enough way to start your morning, then imagine waking up only to get pulled back down by Draco Malfoy who’s got you trapped between his arms.

“Stop moving so much, it’s getting annoying.” The Platinum blonde said in a groggy voice.

“Get off of me!” I pushed him off the bed.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?” He yelled now fully awake rubbing his soon to be brushed elbow.

“Why am I here? Did you kidnap me?  Why was I in the same bed with you? Does this mean that we-“

“Nope. Before you say it no. We didn’t ‘do’ anything.”

“Okay then why am I here?” He looked down with an awkward chuckle.

“Well, you see.” I nodded for him to continue. “That prank I pulled could’ve got me in serious trouble and if I had sent you to the hospital wing, you would’ve blabbed on me and that wouldn’t be good for me.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you’re a selfish prick who doesn’t want to get in trouble for dumping glue and feathers - hey where did it go?”

“I had to clean you up myself last night.” I looked down at myself. I didn’t feel sticky or itchy anymore, but there was one problem.

I WAS WEARING A SLYTHERIN JERSEY!

At my panicked look, Malfoy exploded into laughter. “You should see your face right now.” He said in-between his fits of laughter. “You woke up like an hour after you passed out. You dressed yourself.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Although,” He walked closer to me, trapping against the bed post. “I bet you would’ve enjoyed if I dressed you myself.” He smirked.

“Anyways I’m gonna go now, breakfast is about to be served, and I think you’ll really enjoy it.” He winked as he walked towards the door.

“Hey Malfoy, where’s my clothes?” I asked him, but he was already gone.

“Well, they have to be around here somewhere.” I mumbled. After about ten minutes of looking around his room, I found all of my clothes neatly folded on his dresser, the whole time just hidden in plain sight. Now all that was left was my robe?

“There it is.” I reached under the bed.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

I don’t know if it was just my lack of self confidence, but it felt like all eyes were on me when I entered the great hall.

My suspicion turned out to be correct as the room gradually turned quieter and quieter, to the point where the only noise made was the sound of my footsteps.

That’s unusual.

I was sitting down in my seat when the girl beside me gasped.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. The rest of the Hufflepuff table murmured.

“It’s just-“she paused and pointed at my robe. “Why are you wearing a Slytherin robe?” I looked down and sure enough, there it was a big snake symbol on the left side of my chest.

“I-I don’t know h-how I got this.” I stammered. “It probably got switched out in l-laundry.”

“Nope.” I felt someone’s hands on my shoulder. The girl in front of me look absolutely terrified. “It’s mine.” Draco said to her while jumping on the table.

“EVERYONE, I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE.” He yelled as if the whole great hall hadn’t been watching the entire time. “I HAVE A NEW GIRLFRIEND.” He looked at me and held out his hand. I looked at him in confusion. He grabbed my hand and helped me up, kicking any plates out of my way.

“FROM THIS POINT ON, Y/N L/N IS NOT AVAILABLE.”

What?

“THAT MEANS YOU DON’T MESS WITH HER, YOU DON’T TALK TO HER, AND YOU DON’T EVEN LOOK AT HER OR ELSE YOU'LL HAVE TO DEAL WITH ME.”

In the mist of my confusion, I had failed to realize that he had put his arm around my waist and was leaning in closer and closer to me. It was only when I felt his lips on mine that I finally came to terms with what was going on.

I was his new girl of the month.

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