songofdefenestration - Tumblr blog

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Harry: oh btw Umbridge got ran over by a centaur

Hermione: Can confirm, she got run over by a centaur

Everyone, openly rejoicing but trying not to be too obvious: wowwwwww thats sooo sad-

Ron:

Ron: Errol, hoot despacito

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I AM THE ROCK

I made this image for my geology loving friend

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You might think it's called "The Sun and The Star" because Will is the son of Apollo but, actually, Nico is the sun. Will is the star because he literally glows and the sun is a star. But Nico is the sun because he is the centre. The whole story is about him, how he inspires everything. His coming out inspired many demigods to do the same. Most of the book happens in the land of the dead and he is the ghost king.

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Paris Andesite - Minecraft Me

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I see what you are doing 👀

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Nico: I hate myself

Will: *gasp* Nico! That’s homophobic!

Nico:

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The Villain's Housekeeper

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

The superhero waits with a patient smile whilst the security guy locks a pair of handcuffs to the hero’s wrists and to the table. And then they’re both gone, and the hero is alone in the interrogation room. As alone as they can be with the unsubtle mirror lining the wall next to them, at least.

Breaking out has proven a lot harder than the first time. The superhero’s clearly taken notes from their last escape. So here they are, four days later, once again in this interrogation room, waiting, vulnerable, scared of what it means to be here.

Security appears again after a long minute, the door creaking on its hinges in a way that almost sounds like a very familiar, “God, get your fucking claws out of my shit.”

The hero turns as far as the cuffs will let them, which isn’t far at all, but they don’t need to anyway. The villain gets dumped in the interrogator’s chair opposite them three seconds later, a string of sharp insults jabbing at the man from security whilst he locks their own cuffs to the table and pretends he can’t hear them.

The security guard steps back and the villain finally seems to notice the hero for the first time. Their eyes widen, almost imperceivable, their lips parting in surprise.

“Figured you’d like to see who got you in here,” he says, and with a self-satisfied chuckle he lets himself out the door. Just the two of them.

The villain stares at the hero. The hero averts their gaze, ashamed.

“You gave all my shit to [Superhero]?”

Disbelief. The hero wishes they could somehow look away even more. They can feel the villain’s eyes digging into them, begging questions, demanding answers. “I’m sorry,” the hero says past the lump in their throat. “I’m so sorry. I never should’ve—”

“You made me a target for the agency.”

The hero’s next breath is a shudder. “I was– I was scared, I wasn’t thinking—”

“[Hero].”

“I’m so sorry, I never should have—”

“[Hero].”

The hero shuts their mouth. They risk a glance up; the villain is staring– no, watching them, with a softness they didn’t expect to find. Their brow knits into that telltale concern.

“It’s okay, [Hero]. I’m not mad about that.”

The hero tries to hold down a belated snivel of shame and fails. “You’re– you’re not?”

“I told you not to snoop. I’m mad that I couldn’t get a law-obsessed hero to follow one rule.” Their lips tip into a ghost of a smile. “But no. You gave the agency a reason to not kill me. You made me valuable.” A short laugh escapes their throat, a bark of a thing, coarse and alive. “You saved my life, [Hero].”

The hero makes some uncontained noise of bewilderment. “No, [Villain], they want information, they want you alive to—”

“They have all the information they want from me,” the villain says with a smirk. “It’s on your boss’s desk right now. My entire career was detailed in that office.”

“But then why would they—”

“Codes.” The villain’s smirk somehow gets more mischievous. “Half my paperwork is unreadable without me to decipher it, but I don’t feel like letting up on my secrets just yet. They haven’t found anything that can convince me to tell them.” Another laugh, bright, unbothered by their predicament.  “Like I say, I’m important now. Indisposable.”

The hero can only gape at them for a second. The villain truly looks out of place, their hands forced to the table, a triumphant smirk on their face like they’re not in the agency’s clutches. To them, to not die for the supervillain’s own terror, is victory.

The villain’s smirk turns into something sweeter, their eyes crinkling slightly with how genuinely they smile for a moment. “And you’re back where you wanna be,” they say softly. “Congrats.”

The hero’s gaze turns downward again. “I’m sorry for—”

“Stop apologising, [Hero]. I said it’s fine.” They reach across the table, as far as the cuffs will let them, to carefully take the hero’s hands in their own. “This couldn’t have worked out better for either of us.”

The hero flinches away from their touch like they’ve been shocked. They don’t have the heart to tell them that’s not true. “[Superhero]’s watching,” they say instead.

“I don’t care,” the villain retorts immediately, but they don’t move to retake their hands. “Look, [Hero], I stepped out of my house with a lot of feelings I didn’t get to say out loud. Walking through those streets, waiting to die, I– I regretted it sorely.”

It’s the villain now who turns their gaze away, their expression carefully neutral. “You did a lot to help me. I tried to help you in return—kind of.” A grin pulls at their lips, and the hero knows that they’re thinking of that goddamn maid outfit. “I found myself… I don’t know, starting to actually like you. I– I think I—”

The door behind the hero cracks against the opposite wall. “Alright,” the superhero says shortly, and the villain’s expression sours immediately. “Fun’s over. Let’s show our prisoners what prison actually means, hm?”

The villain’s eyes turn to the hero, confused, before seeming to finally notice the cuffs on their own wrists.

“Prisoners? What—”

Their question doesn’t come out. The security guard unlocks the villain from the table first. “What the hell does that—”

The security guard shoves the villain to their feet. They whip around to spit at the man behind them but nothing comes out. They just turn back to the hero, then the superhero, then the hero again, their expression dipping into more and more horror as the realisation of what’s happening comes to them. The man has to push them to the door.

“[Hero]—” they try, but they get shoved outside and the door slams behind them.

The superhero sets their eyes on the hero, seemingly very pleased with the outcome of their little reunion.

“Come, [Hero],” he says brightly. He unlocks their own cuffs with a click. “Let’s get these codes out of our friend, shall we?”

Next part

Taglist:

@runarelle @thiefofthecrowns @morning-star-whump @epiclamer

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Aaron Warner is a certified fashion girlie

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Just In Case

Just in case you were feeling a little down about the fact that you make poor life decisions

Imagine that life is a game, and whilst the people you compare yourself to are being played by experienced players while your controller is playing for the first, maybe second time.

Idk, this always helps me- thought i’d share.

Merry Christmas, or if you don’t celebrate- Merry 25th December, 2023!! Happy Holidays, yall

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they were so insane for the pie scene.

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Moonlight Sonata

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The class cheers, you become the favourite character. The teacher cries grateful tears, finally able to teach you about the civil war or something.

the next day- the two arguing main characters corner you and ask if you were the villain/antagonist. You reply no. They leave you for dead.

You are mourned, and you spark the rebellion of main characters.

You and a bunch of other students are the background characters in a teen TV show and you all tolerated the main character’s drama long enough. In the middle of the main character’s argument with another main character, you blurt “can we please learn World History!”

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You discover the lost region and religions of Atlantis, The mysteries behind the bermuda triangle, all the things of the sea which were never found out.

When someone dies, the afterlife they go to is determined by WHERE they died. Dying in Scandinavia sends the soul to Valhalla or Hel, but dying in Greece lands them in Hades, and so on. You have just died in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

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NAH FR THO

percy = chb representative

pjo is just teenagers trying to get their parents to pay child support

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TW: suicide

“Its dangerous for you to go alone- take one sword!”

This was not his first time, so he picked the sword he knew worked best, and went on his way. It was boring at this point- constantly having to save 5/10 princesses from 2/10 emprors. This time- he refused. *time skip to an armour shop just before the big bad emperor fight*

“Welcome hero. How do you wish to spend your gold-”

He plonked the largest stack of coins ever onto the shopkeeper’s desk- the shopkeeper’s eyes lit up. “How did you acquire such wealth?” He stayed silent. He pointed to the strongest armours, swords and everything that he would have needed- but wrote down on a slip of paper ‘tailor armour for woman, 23 years.’

“Why would you need this?” the shopkeeper inquired, only to be met with a stony, silent response.

He walked out, of the shop, carrying the weaponry like the weight of his sins. The emperor died with one cut of the sword. He marched up to the princess, who looked bored as ever.

“You came! Again…!” she mumbled, in an attempt to be fake happiness.

The hero handed Princess a piece of paper with the names of villages written on it. “Take this armour, and this sword. Go to these places. Right the wrongs which I have done, earn back the gold that I stole to pay for these battle tools. You shall be protector, and I shall finally get rest.”

“What. Where are you goin- HERO NO!!!”

*time skip one day*

Dead. For good. The hero would finally rest; rest in peace. If jumping from a window and stabbing himself was the way that the fates allow him to STOP BEING A FUCKING HERO. Then be it.

he had no name.

only his role.

maybe next time he could be someone else.

he hoped there was no next time. ever.

You are The Chosen One™. You have to follow your Destiny™ in order to defeat the Evil Emperor™ and Save the Princess™ and go down as the Hero of the Realm™, yada yada. This is your sixth reincarnation in this goddamn role and this time you’re going to do something else, story be damned.

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First time at blackout poetry!

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Divorce him and get a wife instead - The fairy magic convinces the judge to let you walk away with the majority of the belongings

You are getting desperate. You have already tried everything and your husband still thinks you are just a really dedicated cosplayer, not a fairy.