My Poor Boy - Tumblr Posts
Ghostbur at literally any sheep he comes across:
percy is the personification of
“im not a violent dog, i don’t know why i bite”
AND ITS SO SADDDDD :( like stop
especially when you see ppl idolising him for that trait
like rachel who thinks it’s so cool that he’s a demigod and gets to fight monsters and go on crazy adventures
or nico who saw him as this all knowing brave hero who could do no wrong and would fight to save the day
when in the end he didn’t want to fight and he’s been surrounded by violence his whole life and taught how to hold and try to control his anger and violence just to be used as a weapon and seen as one by the gods and many ppl around him who just see him at the super strong crazy guns blazing guy
when FROM THE JUMP all he’s wanted was to literally just go to school have friends and live with his mom in nyc :| like that’s so sad
like do y’all remember in son when he punched a random shelf bc he was so frustrated with his memories ?? to me that is percy without his anger management techniques
could you imagine if he had lived with poseidon and grown up in that environment instead of sally’s ?? how different of a person would he be
YA’LL SEEING THIS
ISTG TUMBLR AND TUMBLR’S BSD THEORIES ARE WILD GO ON
I believe some viewers have noticed how Dazai often breaks the fourth wall in the anime.
A separate, symbolic moment happens in the final scene of the second season when Dazai raises his champagne and toasts, “To the stray dogs.”
This gesture connects to the title of the “book” within the story, which is also called Stray Dogs. While this may already be a common theory, I think the Bungo Stray Dogs universe itself exists within that book, which explains why everything written in it becomes reality. Whatever Asagiri writes, materializes in their world.
This idea would also bring a new dimension to Dazai’s nihilism and depression, as it suggests he’s fully self-aware.
Imagine knowing you’re just a character in a book, subject to the whims of an author who could rewrite your life at any moment. It would deepen Dazai’s existential struggles, knowing he’s powerless in a story that could change at any time.
i love jaime reyes he brings so much "can i go home now??" energy to every situation
I don’t know how to put it into words so here is it
Just to clarify more, ITS ALL RUMOR SO FAR
Why I’m sharing it? Because I don’t trust mclaren
I've been replaying RDR2 for the first time since its release and we're well past Guarma now and I'm really not ok 🥲
Satan Headcanons
(Emotional Lover Boy)
His hair is naturally black like Lucifer’s, but he bleaches and dyes it blonde so he doesn't resemble Lucifer
Will and has started a one-man riot when he doesn’t get his way (he’s crazy spoiled by Lucifer)
Don’t let him anywhere near phycological books, he will lock himself in his room for days deciphering and decrypting every single line in the book, you can also expect him to be in there for an extra week if there’s a movie or sequel to the book
Similar to Lucifer, he has a hooked nose
He was born with 6 scars on his back, each scar resembling the placement of each and every one of Lucifer’s Celestial realm wings
Enjoys reading to the younger demons at the Local Devildom Library, sometimes he even brings homemade baked goods to hand out to them
He feels as if his inner wrath and hatred dies down and fades away whenever MC is around, he really does cherish the time he spends with them to the point where he’s overly thrilled every time they choose him over his brothers
Surprisingly good at first person shooter games, he’s always the first person Levi goes to when he needs help completing a level
When he wants MC’s attention, he will go "pspspsps” as if they’re a cat
Randomly comes home with a giant childish grin plastered on his face as he’s covered in dirt and scratch marks, holding nothing but a box of stray cats and kittens
There’s no way in HELL him and Asmo/Belphie aren’t getting absolutely fried during RAD school hours just for shits and giggles
!Other headcanons under the cut!
Lucifer's Ver
Mammon's Ver
Leviathan's Ver
Satan’s Ver ~ You are here
Asmodeus’ Ver
Beelzebub’s Ver
Belphegor’s Ver
I'm so sad about how obviously John is trying to get Arthur paranoid, afraid he'll replace him. He's afraid that if Arthur finds someone he can trust who is human and doesn't have a memory problem, Arthur won't need him anymore.
“If I were a woman, you wouldn’t consider me unfaithful”
Just a random thought that popped into my mind while watching a video about the “Top 3 Greek heroes who cheated on their wives”, and for some reason Odysseus was on third place🙃
wondered when exactly Damian started casually chatting with his hallucinations of Alfred in Robin (2021)
figured isolating himself in a dark tower carrying pictures of Alfred and the weight of his death would do the trick! (Detective Comics (2016) #1032)
I just saw Doctor Sleep and I have a bunch of mixed feelings...
I’m glad that he was the hero, but I’m extremely sad because of the cost of him becoming a hero...
Duskwood Incorrect Quotes pt.22
Dan: How did none of you hear what I just said?
Thomas: I've been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.
Cleo: I got distracted about halfway trough.
Mc: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.
Tragic that there are so many good boys out there who aren't getting used right now or told how good they are.
@groundbreakingdot872 I didn't want to cry today! Why would you do this!?
arthur had a stuffed animal when he was little—
the most moth-bitten, dusty, and disturbed looking teddy you’d ever seen, but it was his. perfect for tucking under an elbow, or pulling snugly under his nose to take deep breaths in and out, as Gaius had practiced with him.
and when the night stole dark over the castle windows, and the rough and rumble of the day’s horrors came to frighten him at bedtime, he pressed Sir Teddy into service at the foot of his bed, black buttoned eyes at attention. or when he spotted shadows over his father’s shoulders at dinnertime, and branches creaked like assassins in the night, Sir Teddy was snuggled dutifully by his side through every nightmare, handsome in his knitted Camelot red.
most times though, when the world got too noisy and too bright, and he was too big to hide behind his nursemaid’s skirts like he had when he was little, he just shut his eyes tight like the brave boy he had to be, and bore it.
but there didn’t seem to be any harm of having Sir Teddy come along for the adventures, hidden away at practice tournaments, and stuffed in his knapsack on trips, and peeking out from drawers at lessons. as long as his father wasn’t made aware, it seemed perfectly acceptable to Arthur to have his wool stuffed soldier at his right side. always.
and for a short while, he didn’t have to be princely, or perfect, or honorable in sniffling away the fear, but just what he was.
—a little boy who missed his mum with an ache so fierce he went about punching the hurt into other places. but even then, in the bruising loneliness, the nights were a little less endless with Sir Teddy as a loyal friend by his side. and as a terrific substitute for the one thing Arthur wished for the most.
@groundbreakingdot872 I didn't want to cry today! Why would you do this!?
arthur had a stuffed animal when he was little—
the most moth-bitten, dusty, and disturbed looking teddy you’d ever seen, but it was his. perfect for tucking under an elbow, or pulling snugly under his nose to take deep breaths in and out, as Gaius had practiced with him.
and when the night stole dark over the castle windows, and the rough and rumble of the day’s horrors came to frighten him at bedtime, he pressed Sir Teddy into service at the foot of his bed, black buttoned eyes at attention. or when he spotted shadows over his father’s shoulders at dinnertime, and branches creaked like assassins in the night, Sir Teddy was snuggled dutifully by his side through every nightmare, handsome in his knitted Camelot red.
most times though, when the world got too noisy and too bright, and he was too big to hide behind his nursemaid’s skirts like he had when he was little, he just shut his eyes tight like the brave boy he had to be, and bore it.
but there didn’t seem to be any harm of having Sir Teddy come along for the adventures, hidden away at practice tournaments, and stuffed in his knapsack on trips, and peeking out from drawers at lessons. as long as his father wasn’t made aware, it seemed perfectly acceptable to Arthur to have his wool stuffed soldier at his right side. always.
and for a short while, he didn’t have to be princely, or perfect, or honorable in sniffling away the fear, but just what he was.
—a little boy who missed his mum with an ache so fierce he went about punching the hurt into other places. but even then, in the bruising loneliness, the nights were a little less endless with Sir Teddy as a loyal friend by his side. and as a terrific substitute for the one thing Arthur wished for the most.
@groundbreakingdot872 I didn't want to cry today! Why would you do this!?
arthur had a stuffed animal when he was little—
the most moth-bitten, dusty, and disturbed looking teddy you’d ever seen, but it was his. perfect for tucking under an elbow, or pulling snugly under his nose to take deep breaths in and out, as Gaius had practiced with him.
and when the night stole dark over the castle windows, and the rough and rumble of the day’s horrors came to frighten him at bedtime, he pressed Sir Teddy into service at the foot of his bed, black buttoned eyes at attention. or when he spotted shadows over his father’s shoulders at dinnertime, and branches creaked like assassins in the night, Sir Teddy was snuggled dutifully by his side through every nightmare, handsome in his knitted Camelot red.
most times though, when the world got too noisy and too bright, and he was too big to hide behind his nursemaid’s skirts like he had when he was little, he just shut his eyes tight like the brave boy he had to be, and bore it.
but there didn’t seem to be any harm of having Sir Teddy come along for the adventures, hidden away at practice tournaments, and stuffed in his knapsack on trips, and peeking out from drawers at lessons. as long as his father wasn’t made aware, it seemed perfectly acceptable to Arthur to have his wool stuffed soldier at his right side. always.
and for a short while, he didn’t have to be princely, or perfect, or honorable in sniffling away the fear, but just what he was.
—a little boy who missed his mum with an ache so fierce he went about punching the hurt into other places. but even then, in the bruising loneliness, the nights were a little less endless with Sir Teddy as a loyal friend by his side. and as a terrific substitute for the one thing Arthur wished for the most.
@groundbreakingdot872 I didn't want to cry today! Why would you do this!?
arthur had a stuffed animal when he was little—
the most moth-bitten, dusty, and disturbed looking teddy you’d ever seen, but it was his. perfect for tucking under an elbow, or pulling snugly under his nose to take deep breaths in and out, as Gaius had practiced with him.
and when the night stole dark over the castle windows, and the rough and rumble of the day’s horrors came to frighten him at bedtime, he pressed Sir Teddy into service at the foot of his bed, black buttoned eyes at attention. or when he spotted shadows over his father’s shoulders at dinnertime, and branches creaked like assassins in the night, Sir Teddy was snuggled dutifully by his side through every nightmare, handsome in his knitted Camelot red.
most times though, when the world got too noisy and too bright, and he was too big to hide behind his nursemaid’s skirts like he had when he was little, he just shut his eyes tight like the brave boy he had to be, and bore it.
but there didn’t seem to be any harm of having Sir Teddy come along for the adventures, hidden away at practice tournaments, and stuffed in his knapsack on trips, and peeking out from drawers at lessons. as long as his father wasn’t made aware, it seemed perfectly acceptable to Arthur to have his wool stuffed soldier at his right side. always.
and for a short while, he didn’t have to be princely, or perfect, or honorable in sniffling away the fear, but just what he was.
—a little boy who missed his mum with an ache so fierce he went about punching the hurt into other places. but even then, in the bruising loneliness, the nights were a little less endless with Sir Teddy as a loyal friend by his side. and as a terrific substitute for the one thing Arthur wished for the most.
the Mahariel/Tamlen angst I'm contractually bound to draw every once in a while
oh no, I thought of something bittersweet :')