#and the everything about Only One Way
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saltedswan ¡ 7 months ago
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John Darnielle really said "even things that permanently and intentionally mark you will fade away if you keep working in the light" in the same album as "everything you do will have permanent effects on others from the moment you start" and "some things in life are inevitable by virtue of living in it" and now I will never stop thinking about those funky horns
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feelo-fick ¡ 3 months ago
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i thought the reason was obvious..??
but you dont seem to get the implication so i guess ill just keep talking and you can listen if you want to
—
that one meme but its them :] sort of a sequel to this
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golyadkin ¡ 1 year ago
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I cannot express enough that if your reaction, as a hobby artist, to not getting that many notes on your art is to say "maybe I should just stop doing art altogether" you need to stop posting art to tumblr
not necessarily forever, not even for long, but just stop putting your art on here and start doing it for you again, remember why you enjoyed doing art in the first place and stop relying on the attention of faceless people on the internet for your enjoyment of your hard work
believe me, I get it, nothing crushes the artistic soul quite like labouring for hours on a piece only for it to get like 10 notes, so you need to find your own source of joy in the act of creation and a lot of the time that means making art and not showing it to anybody
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rjshope ¡ 21 days ago
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Namseok through the years for @raplinenthusiasts ✨
+bonus:
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thelaurenshippen ¡ 6 months ago
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911 really is such a good reminder of the particularly kind of joy that is weekly, seasons-long shows with many episodes per season. every character gets a moment to shine even in a truncated season. the satisfaction of seeing characters grapple with stuff that happened YEARS ago. having multi-episode arcs and one-off arcs that are equally enjoyable. beach episodes (metaphorical). I know we're all saying this all the time but why can't more tv be like this
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linusbenjamin ¡ 1 year ago
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Prometheus stole fire from the gods and gave it to man. For this he was chained to a rock and tortured for eternity. Oppenheimer (2023) dir. Christopher Nolan
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drenched-in-sunlight ¡ 2 months ago
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saying this as respectfully as possible but. Do not put fandom content creators on a pedestal. We are also just fans contributing to a community just as you are. We have boundary on our own work and that’s it. What I say is not and should not be considered sth the whole fandom should listen to. I’m just a normal ass person ranting about things on my blog. If it does not have a fandom tag for others to engage in, do not make it out to be me trying to start fights or addressing the whole community. Because it’s not.
I’ve said it before and I will say it again, my art, my lore talk, is biased. I’ve never tried to hide that I view Marika a certain way and will always develop my theory following that base assumption.
Aside from translation stuffs and pointing out in-game items, everything else I say you can look at it, agree or disagree, and move on to form your own opinions. Just because I draw stuffs doesn’t mean you get to saddle me with responsibilities about managing fandom expectations. What the hell? I’m a fan artist, I’m the last person who you should look at for “leaderism” (?) WHAT?
I can and will be a hater in my own space, like I know sometimes other artists will just post their stuffs and not engage too heavily with fandom, and for a while I did try to do that here (because I’m already a dramatic ass on twitter), that’s just not me though.
You will get art and you will get my opinions as well.
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#asking ppl to [celebrate different takes] is... WHAT?#different takes as in well I think she likes apples and you think she likes grapes. yeah that’s some fun discussion to be have#but different takes as in the fundamental of a character’s drive and personality??? NO#let’s put that down very clear here#I can still read fics where Marika is cold and calculate and manipulative as long as I can see there’re layers to it and the author#set it up in a way that I can see they got her backstory and build those layers based on that#and then there are ppl who literally only portray her as omg evil girlboss 101 let’s blame everything on this cardboard character#then I click back.#and there r ppl who might not vibe with how i portray her and they can ignore me. THAT'S OK TOO. we r in our own space.#it’s as simple as that!#ever since the dlc is out i literally could see the amount of ppl blocking me go up and im just “ok” because i do go around muting ppl too.#that's normal fandom space managing experience. pls do that#lore discussion is for ppl to engage in so u say ur piece i say mine and we can continue or not depending on situation#but FANWORK? leave each other alone or be a hater in ur own space ok?#personal#also where are these ppl who have been defending Marika at... because if u exclude me#and some others i can count on one hand. where are these ppl?#ppl saying headass stuffs about the HS aren't even Marika fans or engage too much in fandom to begin with#meanwhile u can't even find one youtube lore essay that says anything good about her#ppl are even trying to give Messmer's mother position to GEQ for no goddamn reason#like where is this overwhelming support for Marika at cuz as the active Marika stan around im not seeing it
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horsechestnut ¡ 2 months ago
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Anyway, if you're a fan of Bruce and Steph having a father/daughter relationship you should probably go read about Oliver and Mia.
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starry-bi-sky ¡ 1 month ago
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Clone^2 - Separation Strikes
"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.
His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.
Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.
And it was summer; Damian starts today.
"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."
Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.
"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"
"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."
Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.
Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.
Danny just...
His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.
He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.
Not like he was.
Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.
He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.
Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.
His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.
(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)
Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"
He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.
Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.
He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.
Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."
"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.
Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?
He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."
Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"
Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.
And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.
His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."
Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"
That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"
Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.
"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."
Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.
"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."
Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"
#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc au#dpxdc fic#dpxdc ficlet#clone^2#clone danny fenton#MAN I LOVE THIS AU SM#clone danny#danny fenton is a clone#i lomv. them :((( SO MUCH. I'VE MISSED WRITING THEM. i had this idea since talking to purple-goo-writes abt clone danny last week#they mean everything to me. they are the brothers ever. so family coded. don't ask me about the timeline here it doesnt exist#its post-danny's hands getting permanently fucked up and thats it lol.#parent danny is great but 'big brother danny' is SO fucking fun to write. he's silly and goofy and annoying in the way only siblings are#smth about writing danny being so full of love and kindness and protective compassion. bleeding heart that he is. its like doing cocaine#chaotic danny is SO fun and silly but kIND danny is. holy shit its better than getting high. altho ive never been high so i can only guess#there's just smth addictive in writing him being affectionate and loving and caring. he's heartful and heart full.#he's sweet - not like sugar - but like caramel. fulfilling and chewy. a kindness that gets stuck in your teeth and melts on your tongue#he's such an annoying older brother. i love him#bal mithai is a type of pakistani dessert btw. since Nanda Parbat is based off the mountain nanga parbat which is in pakistan. i figured#that the food damian had in the league might've been pakistani-based. or at least heavily pakistani in orign. maybe. i just didn't wanna#look up 'arabic desserts' and pick the first one off the list. felt inauthentic that way alsdh#translations since you wont get it through google translate:#1. 'are you nervous beloved?' 2. 'no! I am not nervous!' 3. 'I'm not everyone' 4. 'let me go brother!'#while i dont usually use 'little brother' or 'brother' as terms of endearments between siblings. Jazz canonically calls Danny that and#i figured if i worded it in a way that sounded natural. it would sound less soul-crushingly cringy. look as someone wit THREE siblings.#i know exactly how siblings interact with one another. but this felt like a special exception. they don't say it often
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ef-1 ¡ 12 days ago
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If I think about the double standard and the disparity with which the media handled Daniel in comparison to everyone else I may lose my mind.
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fatedroses ¡ 3 months ago
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And some days, I just wish you wouldn't look at me at all.
#ffxiv#sketch#wol#meteor survivor#zenos yae galvus#adventurer zenos#oh no#its the consequences of his actions#everything is fine until the only man on the star you care about looks at you with the same contempt your father did#(Meteor's not doing it intentionally- its a reflex after he comes back for quite a bit)#and zenos is getting bodied because its been a while since... you know... him being able to really feel anything at all#and no- its not him regretting anything that had to do with varis- just him regretting the thought meteor could look at him like that#little does Meteor know he's emotionally bodying the man he's trying to be cordial with#its a little okay because in how I write adventurer zenos this serves as one of his main wake-up calls to make some changes#and realizing both the mistakes he's made with meteor and that meteor hating him in any way is actually -not at all- what he wants#but not okay on the end that every time meteor does this he has to watch zenos actively dissociate right in front of him#until zenos just kinda autopilots and walks away#the second time (or perhaps third) in the last 11 years that zenos has felt regret to any major capacity-#on meteor's end I just enjoy seeing the progression of the WoL through subtext#and why meteor is willing to even entertain the idea despite how much he hates zenos- his decisions and the path he's walked#is the realization that there is high chance that he could actually be a direct catalyst for zenos' growth#and the realization the wol has that they were the only one zenos has ever genuinely reached out to#besides- i just like the idea of having your equal other half fighting back to back with you- or being able to handle threats you cant#and i find their dynamic neat- of meteor not forgiving zenos but giving him his last chance- and growing to enjoy being around him#and zenos being able to work on moving past being the weapon or the monster- finding the connections he's longed for#and giving himself purpose to finally truly just live- for him to learn to experience and have the freedom to find what he enjoys#(and curiously him having estinien's brand of accidently helping people even in StB gives me ideas...)#but enough tag ranting- ill get to zenos' actual adventuring in another post lol
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morganbritton132 ¡ 2 years ago
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Eddie post a Tiktok of Steve mid-rant about how the party doesn’t use their shared calendar correctly. You can tell this has been going on for a while because Steve is just listing stupid stuff that’s on it now - “On the twentieth, Dustin wrote ‘Moon.’ ???? Is he going to the fucking moon?! Is he looking at it? Max wrote a threat for Thanksgiving, but like, not a descriptive one so I don’t know… I don’t know what it means. Is she threatening us to come over?” The entire time Steve is ranting, Eddie is nodding along while zooming in on his ass.
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lovesickeros ¡ 5 months ago
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☆ de fontaine
{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k
This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!
She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.
She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.
Furina is tired.
But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?
So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.
Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.
Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.
An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.
She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.
She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.
She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.
And Furina has always been good at lying.
It's the believing that's the hard part.
There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?
Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.
She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?
She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.
Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?
Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.
Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?
They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?
"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"
Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.
Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.
Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.
Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.
"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.
But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.
They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.
She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.
If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..
Furina will make sure they do.
#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#genshin cult au#genshin impact cult au#fic tag#furina#so um. looks around. okay look. i know im like THE ts@r1ts@ dealer (censored so it doesnt show in tags. hopefully)#but the moment i saw furi in fontaine the day it released she became my fav even more then the tsaritsa SORRY SHES SO..#this is my love letter 2 furi (making her suffer unimaginable horrors)#open ended kinda in case i decide on making a sequel maybe#furi makes me feel cuteness aggression so bad i start acting like a rabid animal#furina the woman that you are. thats my girlprince meow meow id kill someone for her#playing her part as archon so well but being so horribly irrefutably human in every way..#five hundred years not even knowing what the real plan was. when it would end. knowing if she slipped up it was over.#and in the end almost no one knew what really happened. a select few people know the real weight of her sacrifice.#furina's story was always a tragedy. it was never going to be anything but a tragedy.#and thats one of the most tragic parts of it isnt it? she didnt know how itd end. she didnt know her story was always going to be a tragedy#furina never knew a thing. and still she did it for the people of fontaine and succeeded.#how do you define “yourself” when you havent existed for 500 years?#to be so selflessly human you give up “yourself” to save people who will never know of your sacrifice.#sometimes i think about the confrontation on the stage and have a week long mental breakdown#sacrificing EVERYTHING for fontaine and still. still! the people closest to you turn on you.#heavy on clorinde. she was as close 2 furi as neuvi fight me on this. i bite.#her bodyguard and friend and she ends up staring down her blade wondering if this is it. she failed. she failed them all#because even when faced with the trial. with losing everything. she still thought only about fontaine. oh furina.#do you think she has nightmares. wonders if she was never meant to win this game of g-ds. that her story was always meant to be a tragedy?#do you think she still wonders if she was ever meant to have a chance at a happy ending? a doomed tragedy from beginning to end
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autisticandroids ¡ 5 months ago
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CASTIEL: Stop. What's the point if you don't mean it? You fear me - not love, not respect, just fear.
[youtube with closed captions]
a godstiel pity party. i'd like to thank an anon i got way back in february of 2021.
#spn#vid#spnamvarchive#so fun fact i started making this more than a year ago. got it 90% done. and then was like no this isn't working#i will come back to this later.#it turns out that i needed to make some videos about cas and angels (the love club + help i'm alive amvs)#in order to make this one. anyway this video is about french mistake robert singer voice season six#i really struggled with it because i could NOT find the thread until i realized that it needed to be literally godstiel pov#it's about love and desire and jealousy and hurt and omnidirectional rage <3#it's about the fact that cas is so utterly dependent on dean for his self-image - however dean sees him that's it#it's about having a moment of reflection about lashing out before you do it but doing it anyway#it's about taking cruelty and dishing it out#and crucially. it's about being pregnant#mpregpocalypse#fun fact: i made a post about working on three season six amvs all the way back in nov. 2022#and only now have they come to fruition (this one + love club + metric)#anyway. have you heard that cas is obsessed#the thing is i do kinda want to add some specific director's commentary here. like the first verse is about cas being like.#incredibly deeply emotionally vulnerable to dean. as in: his emotional state and self-image is totally dominated by what dean thinks of him#and if dean is mad at him. and then the second verse is about... dean upsetting him and him responding to that by Killing Everybody lol#like he has a moment of reflection ['certain regrettable things are now required of me' + killing rachel] where he's like i've 1) also done#bad things and 2) i feel bad about it so maybe i will regret Killing Everyone. but then he does it anyway due to everybody keeps turning#on him. i feel like the rest of the amv is self evident. i guess i should note that 'share a paradise' is about how both of them have#a nostalgic view of the early days of their relationship when it wasn't Like This lol. but everything else i think is self evident.#oh and the reason the other angels flash onscreen with their burned wings at the end is i'm EVOKING the image of cas' wings burning. even#though it doesn't happen. i'm evoking it
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expectiations ¡ 6 months ago
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I still find it funny that people call eleven a "deadbeat husband" and their marriage "toxic" but twelve is the "perfect husband" and their marriage "wedded bliss" all because of the few moments we'd seen between 11 and River were them being "toxic". yes of course! let's ignore how the minisodes show how that description isn't true and even how little moments in the episodes themselves – "what? that's it?" (why haven't you kissed me goodbye? are you being sly on purpose so I'd kiss you first?) and "they wouldn't bury my wife out here" and the music room is the heart of the home and it's not a ghost story, it's a love story – show 11 cared and put in the work and yes, they're going to have disagreements like the ones in TATM because duh who doesn't but it does not mean it is the entirety of their relationship but people have taken it and made it the entirety of their relationship.
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ratislatis ¡ 9 months ago
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I'll find you. Wait for me.
hee hee hoo hoo AUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH PAIN PAIN SUFFERING PAIN IN ALL DIRECTIONS!!!! TO HELL WITH IT (LITERALLY)!!!!!!!!!
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