#they're scary and I love them for it

[auphelia]

Even after 11 years, I'm not sure I'm ready for 7 days to die to leave alpha testing. It's too soon

[somewhereincairparavel]

"jason is a knockoff watered down percy" NO hear me out, jason actually parallels annabeth immensely, sharing SO many similarities with her personality, not percy, in this essay I will-

edit: my full analysis is out now! here

[blackkatdraws2]

Drawing dump! [Blank Scripts AU]

[Content Warning: Mentions of Self Harm at the last drawing (for shitpost purposes.)]

[gophergal]

You know what ships get so little love in this fandom?

Polyships. My favourite has got to be Rapid Fire, Pyro/Scout/Sniper

Although I'm also partial to a Red Oktoberfest x Practical Espionage square/quadrouple

you're so right

[problemnyatic]

Look, the bottom line is this. You're gonna be wrong and fuck up sometimes, that's just how being human works. No matter what you mean or how much you care, sometimes, you're gonna do something or say something that hurts someone or perpetuates bigotry you don't believe in.

The goal isn't to do no wrong, that's an impossible standard. The mark of "a good person" isn't that they always do good, it's that they're willing to admit when they've failed, done wrong, made a mistake, and they're willing to course-correct when they do.

It's important that you're trying. It's okay to be the bad guy. You don't need to get defensive, you don't need to stake your identity in "person who never does that kind of wrong." You just gotta be able to say "Fuck, my bad, I'm sorry," accept that your behavior didn't reflect your beliefs, and change your behavior so that it better represents who you mean to be.

The less time you spend lingering on whether it feels like people believe you are who you say you are, the more time you can spend getting better at being that person.

Some people will try to tear you down when you make mistakes, they'll try to pigeonhole you as a "bad person," someone whose very existence is defined by doing harm. This isn't your problem, and it's not your responsibility to prove anything to them. They don't have to believe you, and you don't have to appease them. So long as you're willing to accept when you *do* hurt someone, intentional or not, and you're willng to put in the effort to make reparations and change, you'll never "be a bad person."

Let yourself fuck up. All you have to do is course-correct when you notice your actions' impact have strayed from your intentions. The right people will notice that effort, and they'll be proud of you. And perhaps most importantly of all, they'll let you make that effort. Anyone who tells you it's too late to change, to discourage you from improving, or stop you from trying, is not your frend. You don't have to impress them. Ignore them, and let yourself change.

[ministarfruit]

she's sweet like candy in my veins

[floofballsammy]

Made these tags and had the urge to make them a post. Sonic movie 3 related. The fucking moon scene and super form scene afterwards.

Watch out tumblr, I am unwell about gay hedgehogs. It's a lifelong affliction, I will never recover. You either stay away a safe distance or risk getting infected.

Anyways I ran out of words to describe my current state, so have some pictures.

[flowerakatsuka]

pov : you're the rest of the sextuplets meeting kuroba for the first time.

[yunamiudon]

It's time to post my works I didn't post last year

(Inspired by this tweet)

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

The absolute joy in every Red's voice when they hear that they successfully got someone with their task

"Did I get you did I get you did I get you?!?" (<- like a small child)

"Yeah, you got me." (<- exasperated and bemused adult voice)

"YAY!!" (<- bouncing and scampering off to claim their rewards)

[bevirspnsblmnt]

If Khael had helped Astarion ascend would he have stayed with him? Would he have agreed to becoming his first spawn?

he would let astarion make him way worse than just his first spawn >:3c (ascended astarion and consort-turned-guard-dog khael are dear to my heart, I do think about them sometimes. khael is completely and utterly under astarion's command, he retains a little bit of agency just untill the absolute is defeated and then he would give it up completely. he lives for his sire's praise and to make sure no one ever gets close to him. astarion is caring and sweet with him (all fake and manipulative, of course) and likes to parade him around both as a warning and as a power trip. I think they would be very deadly and ruthless together and that that would be eventually their demise - I can see jaheira/the harpers/wyll needing to hunt them down and put an end to their reign of terror and blood)

[catocappuccino]

1-BOO altered my brain

[fisheito]

rediscovered some eiden trivia in vampire yaku's rooms (R3 to be exact)!!!

idk if it's mentioned in other rooms, but eito has a scar on his head from around the time he left the orphanage. exact location unknown but

- he needs to part his hair to get to it

- can't see it so he forgets about it

- sometimes feels it when he washes his hair

Reason: one of his bosses [nepotism megadouche] was spouting foul things about orphans

Eiden was so pissed off even after going home that he smashed a glass out of rage and TADA!! CONSEQUENCE[shard heckin GOT 'IM]!

He says it feels embarrassing to bring up his former hotheadedness...how his uncontrolled rage in that moment is now immortalised in his scar..... the sides of himself he wants to hide from others..........

[thelolarahaii]

30 seconds? Yup, a 30-second ghost story. And...go.

EVIL 4x02 | "How to Train a Dog"

[sweetlullabyebye]

[chocolatecake47]

Ezran hates that they are at the banther lodge right now. 

He’s well aware how that makes him sound. The spoiled child king, spent his entire childhood in a cushy castle and now he was complaining about sleeping in a cabin. Others had just lost their loved ones and he was moping. 

But it wasn’t that the banther lodge currently held this ominous chill in the air and it felt like ghosts where creepily lurking in every shadow. It wasn’t even that Ezran couldn’t stop replaying the last time they were here, all those years ago when they had come to get Callum’s cube. It was just too vulnerable. There weren’t multiple winding hallways leading to his room or a million guards wandering the premises, the sound of their boots clicking against the stone.

Here anybody could easily smash a window and come kill him in the dead of the night without anyone noticing. 

Well thats not true, he thinks kicking rocks where he’s pacing back and forth on the grass. He still has a million guards always hovering over him. And between Callum, Soren, and Rayla it would be a miracle if someone who even looked at Ezran the wrong way got off the hook. 

Even though he'd been so angry, they had been so overprotective lately. Ever since the castle, his castle, his home - 

Ezran takes a sharp breath and his hand clenches into a fist at his side. He came out here even though it was cold and windy not to think about that, not to dwell on it for the millionth time. 

But it was being rebuilt and until then, staying here was going to have to do. 

The castle wouldn’t be the same though. There wouldn’t be his old nursery, and Callum and his old shared bedroom. His parent’s room, that had been his. Callum’s office, the council room, the kitchen, all those passageways he used to hide in, everything was gone, all those crevices of his home, all those cherished memories- 

burned and destroyed and lost to the raging fire and smoke. 

Ezran stifles a sob and kicks a pebble hard enough to send it flying a few feet away. 

“Can’t sleep either?”

He almost jumps out of his skin when Rayla appears beside him, her hair shining in the dark. 

He scowls at her but in a way so she knows he doesn’t mean it. “You scared me! You and your silent footsteps.”

“What can I say, I’ve still got it.” Rayla smirks but then it fades into something softer. 

Ezran quickly looks away.If Rayla starts looking at him like that he’ll break down before he knows it. 

She sits down on the grass, glancing up at the star-littered sky. Ezran waits. 

“Its okay to be upset you know.” 

Sudden tears pop into his eyes at those words. He rapidly blinks them away. "I’m not upset.” 

Rayla hums. Its a lie and they both know it but she doesn’t push. 

Silence lingers between them for a few moments, the only sound being Ezran shuffling back and forth.

“When we were in the bookery in Lux Aurea and Callum was doing his research stuff, your aunt and I had a conversation.”

He finally glances at her curiously. “How did that go?”

Rayla’s laughs a little, a soft huff. “A bit weird at first. She apologized for trying to kill me last time we were here and then threatened to do so if I hurt Callum again.”

Ezran smiles despite himself. “That sounds like Aunt Amaya all right.”

“But then she told me that part of loving someone was trusting them with the burdens you carry.”

He wasn’t expecting to hear that and he goes completely still as he connects the dots. “So the coins?”

She hesitates, clearly worried about continuing this topic or not but then her jaw sets and she nods. “Yes, like telling Callum about the coins.”

He braces himself, tension mounting in his shoulders.

“And maybe like you telling me what’s on your mind right now?”

He sighs, slumping down onto the grass. She instantly scoots closer to him, her leg bumping his.

There is another silence, this one heavier. 

“You know, you’re not a spoiled brat for not liking the banther lodge right now.”

Her voice brings him back to reality and Ezran’s breath catches. How did she know?

“We’re not on vacation or something. Your home literally burned down.” He can feel her looking at him. “That’s a reason to be upset if there ever was one.”

“If I was upset every time I had a reason I would never be happy.” The words crawl out before he can stop them. 

She gives a quiet hissing intake of breath. “Ezran its okay to,”

“Its not okay! I have to be strong. I always need to be strong. Because if I’m not, what kind of king am I!” Its a louder outburst than he means and his insides flare in white-hot hurt.

She goes quiet. Ezran does too, pulling at the grass in embarrassment, ignoring the sting in his eyes. 

When she speaks next, her voice is soft, tentative. “I know how you feel. But you know there is more to being a king than endless strength. Nobody can be strong all the time.”

He gives a unintentional little snort, swiping at his eye. “That sounds funny coming from you.”

She laughs too. “Yeah, I know. But I’m going to try and be better about that. I think,” she hesitates for a split second, “I want to learn that I don’t always have to be so strong."

Ezran looks to her. “Callum will help you. Remember that you don’t always have to carry the world.” 

She hums, a fond little smile on her face and Ezran would have giggled at her expression any other time. “He’s good at that huh?”

The moonlight reflects perfectly on her face, sharpening her features and casting a starry glow on her snow-white hair. She's his sister, through and through, even when he’s mad at her, and Ezran is well aware how beautiful Rayla is, inside and out. 

“I’m sorry Ezran.” 

“For what?” He asks, brow furrowed in confused.

“For not being more for you. For not stopping more the night that,” her strained voice dips into a whisper, “the king died.”

“You’re literally the only reason that I’m still alive Rayla.” He grabs her hand - partly out of desperation and partly out of comfort - and flips it over, running his finger over the scar on her wrist. “I owe you my life.”

She smiles at him but he can see the slight sheen of tears. “You don’t owe me anything.”

He ducks his head wordlessly, knowing if he speaks his voice will crack. 

She laces their fingers together. They sit there, just breathing until she breaks the silence again.

“I’m proud of you though. For all of it. For making the choices you’ve had to make lately and for having such a good head on your shoulder.”

Something stabbing and painful twists in his chest but he tries to ignore that and snickers mirthlessly instead. “You’re proud that I’m the reason that hundreds of people died? Again?”

“You are absolutely not the reason. Not this time. And not last time during the battle either.” She says firmly, and he feels her fingers stroke the side of his face, flicking away the tears he hadn’t even noticed had spilled. “Being a king is damn tough. And everything you have done has been to protect your people.” 

Her voice softens again. “I never want you to forget how amazing you are.”

“I’m not amazing. I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time.” The truth of that sentence rattles him and he lets out a dry sob.

“Oh love, come here.” She pulls him closer to her, enveloping him into a hug by wrapping one arm around his body. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. You don’t have to figure it out alone.”

Tears he can no longer stop fall onto her lap and he buries his face in the crook of her neck. “What if it isn’t?” He splutters. “What if everyone hates me forever?”

“Nobody hates you sweetheart.” Her own breath hitches, ghosting lightly over the top of Ezran’s head. “And it is going to be okay, you know why? Because you don’t let things like this beat you down. You keep going, you keep bringing an example of peace, even when it’s easier not to.”

He clutches her arm, focusing on the warmth and feeling of her fingers running through his curls. 

“You know why you are so strong?” She whispers.

He shakes his head, a particularly strong wind seeping into his bones. 

“Because you keep hoping, even when it hurts.” 

The words punch Ezran right in the gut. They sear through him, burning hot and sharp in his stomach, crushing the last strands of his composure. 

 He finally breaks down sobbing, his chest heaving, his body shaking. Rayla kisses the top of his head, rubbing her hand down his back even as it trembles. 

They sit there for how long, Ezran doesn’t know, but until he sucks in a harsh intake of breath and is able to unbury his face, letting it rest delicate against her collarbone. 

“Better?” 

He half shrugs. 

“It will get better. We’re going to figure it out.” She reassures him, and the note of confidence in her voice makes Ezran desperately want to believe it. 

Another strong wind ruffles through his hair and he shivers. 

“Do you want to sleep with us tonight?” She asks. 

It’s a gentle offer, one that allows Ezran to back out without any pressure, but he can’t. Doesn’t know if he wants too.

He nods feebly, swiping away the last of the tear stains with his sleeve. 

“C’mon.” She pushes herself up, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her. 

When they get to the bedroom she wastes no time in smacking Callum’s leg to scoot him over. 

“Wha-whats going on?” He mumbles sleepily, and Rayla airily shoves his other leg. 

“Nothing. Just Ezran. Move your arms.” 

Callum obliges, obviously still more than half asleep and Ezran almost laughs. 

“You and Callum are in the same bed?” He teases, just for that sense of easy-going normalcy, and she turns bright red. He laughs for real this time. 

“I’m happy for you guys.” He means it and he can tell she knows that in the way she smiles at him, lifting up the comforter so he can slip in next to her. 

“Thanks.”

He exhales deeply, his eyes already feeling heavy as he leans his head against her shoulder. She tucks the blanket around the both of them and Callum shifts beside him so his body weight is pressed against Ezran’s back. 

“I’m glad,” a yawn cuts him off, “I’m glad Callum decided to be smart for once and get back together with you.”

She laughs quietly and Ezran felt a warm feeling buzz in his chest at the sweet and comforting sound. He liked making Rayla laugh.

“I’m back with more than just Callum. I got Soren, and my pretty cool little brother back too.”

He mumbles a reply, the words getting heavier on his tongue as he snuggles deeper into the comforter.

“Thanks Rayla.” He hesitates for a quick second, toying with what he wants to say, but then pushes it aside. “I love you.”

She exhales slowly, the truth of the words settling into the dark like a heavy blanket. “I love you too sweetheart.”

 The last thing he registered in the back of his clouded mind was her lips pressed against his forehead and the comfort of being warm and cuddled before he was fast asleep.