#says something about me

[beryllineart]

You know, I think part of the reason I like making comics is that it gives me an excuse to rant about characters and worldbuilding and stuff like that. I kind of get embarrassed sometimes about how much I tend to ramble about the smallest things in a character's life, and as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.

When I make Undertale comics (or any other comics really), I'm putting that character or world analysis in a shorter form that people will actually want to read and perhaps draw their own conclusions. And I get an excuse to ramble, usually under a cut because I think people don't want to hear my character analyses.

But oh my gosh, it feels so good to rant in my head as I draw about Asriel's guilt, Mettaton's jealousy and insecurity, Monster Kid's protective side... getting to express that through art and stories just feels so good! And even though I'm dying to share it immediately (and probably could if I just started ranting on here), there's so much more impact when I show instead of just tell people about these specific aspects of characters and how that influences the events and choices of their lives.

I've got this one comic that I haven't even started drawing yet, but it's about making the reader feel like a terrible person because of the futility of the story. Secondhand guilt, if you will. The problem is, I had to make a backstory for this character... and give him a family... knowing full well I was going to kill him off because that's how the story goes. And then I drew a picture of him right before his death and... he looked so accepting of his fate. He wasn't even resigned, he was accepting, and that made me feel so bad. Which is good, I guess, except I've started feeling so guilty that I've been procrastinating. XD

Anyway, I've got major respect for other comic artists or writers in general who manage to put so much history and nuance in their works and make things feel real. And I love reading people's posts about character/world/magic analyses because I love to do that myself, plus hearing other people's views gives me some really good ideas.

I don't know why I decided to say this, maybe I was just wondering why the serious, more emotional comics were my favorites to make, or maybe I just really needed to ramble because all of my character analysis comics aren't close to being finished. Canon compliant(ish) subversions are so fun to write, but hugs are hard to draw. Sorry that I rambled for so long and don't even have art for this post.

[corancoranthemagicalman]

Im reading this fic and dean’s quiet bad with normal magic but is a natural at maybe black magic and necromacing

I am interested 👀

go on

[pangur-and-grim]

alright, I’m annoyed with the class that I’m taking. it’s about writing novels, and I thought it would have cool stuff about balancing your narrative and developing themes etc, but instead she spent the first class talking about how every book fits into the Hero’s Journey (the monomyth template). and I was somewhat of a contrarian, and said “can you give us examples of books that don’t fit into this template?” and she said “no. because all books fit.”

but I dunno man, I just finished reading this Korean book where the plot is just the character having a string of hookups and reflecting on them without changing in any way. I don’t know if it’s possible to contort that into the Hero’s Journey.

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[stemmmm]

more people gotta try this shit where bill has not improved and will not change but he's just chilling so its fine probably. its great

[bruciemilf]

Need a teen! Bruce au where he’s exactly like Justice League! Batman and Battinson in one. That mf put the fear of every god in Ra’s Al Ghul.

Everytime he’s in a room with someone over 30 “Teenagers” by My Chemical Romance plays in the background.

Despite that, in his own way, he’s as gentle as can be with his league. Give me a young Diana who’s getting spat on and ripped apart by the media in a way not one of her male teammates get.

And she’s Wonder Woman. She shouldn’t be affected by it. And she is, anyway. Bruce relates to that in an uncomfortable degree.

“When I first became Batman, weak men tried standing in my way, too. “

“And what did you do?”

“I stepped over them.”

He has a tiny Robin he occasionally has to keep on a leash.

Give me somewhat teen mom Bruce who struggles to wrangle his unruly six year old who likes flipping from rooftop to rooftop and thinks fighting Bane is a piece of cake.

“If Tati can do it, so can I!”

“Dick,” he paused, before handing him a handfull of candy. “Wonderful emotional manipulation. Good job.”

“:D”

[gongyussy]

the h in nhl stands for homoerotic

bonus intricate rituals:

[nothingbizzare]

You have a good heart

[parrish-the-thot]

I had the funny thought of a soulmate au in which you can hear your soulmate’s thoughts specifically when they think about you, so you what their thoughts regarding you and whatnot, very cute could be very funny.

But I imagine Steddie still in high school. Steve not really thinking about Eddie in particular besides the occasional passing “what is he doing on that table”, “I wonder if he is selling after school today” and once a “that’s a cool jacket” which leaves Eddie on a high for the rest of the week.

Steve in the other hand keeps hearing the most raunchiest, horny, things imaginable sitting in class like “this girl wants to do what to my ass???”

[nat-20s]

Ten and Donna end up on a fucked up deadly space newlyweds show despite uh. Not being newlyweds but they get almost all the questions right. They start to sweat when the final question is "what's one secret desire you have involving the other?" And Donna writes "sometimes I wish I could occasionally shrink down the doctor real small so I could carry him around in my pocket and make sure he doesn't get lost' while Ten writes "sometimes I wish I was small enough that Donna could carry me around in like a cat backpack or maybe a shirt pocket" and they look at each other like AYYYYYY because not only are they deeply drift compatible they're also fuckin weird about it 💖

[reinbouxsworld]

twisted wonderland × kimetsu no yaiba (au!)

based on this post here.

I this this on a a japanese song only playlist and a wave of hiperfixation. So heres the context: Yuno (Yuu) and Leona were newly married and lived on his family’s land. On the night after the Town Below festival, Yuno returned home to find not only her husband’s family dead but also her younger brother, Grimm. Leona was the only one still alive, but as she tried to lead him down the mountain, she discovered that he was no longer human.

Silver, a demon slayer, confronted Leona. However, after witnessing him protect Yuno, he chose to spare the newly turned demon’s life, and send the couple to his master, Lilia.

Vil and Rook are the Tamayo and Yuuchiro of this universe. Vil lived more than 300 years only on serving face and hate, nonetheless showed kindness by helping Yuno and Leona after their encounter with the Demon King.

Ace and deuce are both slayers, one ranking above yuu. The three met during a mission, and the two decided to stick by her side from that point on.

[the-chosen-half-of-one]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

It's just guys night talk! Don't worry about it!

(Read Tiger Tiger and shake this man awake so he can finish that thought!)

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[elodieunderglass]

changes and trends in horror-genre films are linked to the anxieties of the culture in its time and place. Vampires are the manifestation of grappling with sexuality; aliens, of foreign influence. Horror from the Cold War is about apathy and annihilation; classic Japanese horror is characterised by “nature’s revenge”; psychological horror plays with anxieties that absorbed its audience, like pregnancy/abortion, mental illness, femininity. Some horror presses on the bruise of being trapped in a situation with upsetting tasks to complete, especially ones that compromise you as a person - reflecting the horrors and anxieties of capitalism etc etc etc. Cosmic horror is slightly out of fashion because our culture is more comfortable with, even wistful for, “the unknown.” Monster horror now has to be aware of itself, as a contingent of people now live in the freedom and comfort of saying “I would willingly, gladly, even preferentially fuck that monster.” But I don’t know much about films or genres: that ground has been covered by cleverer people.

I don’t actually like horror or movies. What interests me at the moment is how horror of the 2020s has an element of perception and paying attention.

Multiple movies in one year discussed monsters that killed you if you perceived them. There are monsters you can’t look at; monsters that kill you instantly if you get their attention. Monsters where you have to be silent, look down, hold still: pray that they pass over you. M Zombies have changed from a hand-waved virus that covers extras in splashy gore, to insidious spores. A disaster film is called Don’t Look Up, a horror film is called Nope. Even trashy nun horror sets up strange premises of keeping your eyes fixed on something as the devil GETS you.

No idea if this is anything. (I haven’t seen any of these things because, unfortunately, I hate them.) Someone who understands better than me could say something clever here, and I hope they do.

But the thing I’m thinking about is what this will look like to the future, as the Victorian sex vampires and Cold War anxieties look to us. I think they’ll have a little sympathy, but they probably won’t. You poor little prey animals, the kids will say, you were awfully afraid of facing up to things, weren’t you?

[maagisterpavus]

Thinking about Dorian in Inquisition, who seems very opposed if not outright afraid to say “I love you.”

DAI Dorian, who has spent his entire life screaming on the inside, spent his entire life putting up walls and locking himself behind glistening gates, hiding himself away from any more pain because enough has been inflicted already. DAI Dorian, who detests confessions, let’s get this over with. DAI Dorian, who says things like “if you don’t make it out of this, I’ll kill you” and “you are incredibly dull, and I hate you.” And a romanced Inquisitor just smiles, knowing he means the opposite, but can’t bring himself to say those words, not yet.

Thinking about Dorian in Veilguard, who sends this letter to the Inquisitor, his love, his amatus.

DAV Dorian, who has been hardened by fighting what sometimes feels like a losing battle over the last decade, and yet softened by the wisdom and clarity that comes with age. DAV Dorian, who no longer cares to squander his feelings because he’s finally realized he doesn’t have to. DAV Dorian, who survived one near-end of the world already, and is now staring down another and won’t, can’t allow himself to hide away any longer. DAV Dorian, who has finally accepted that love isn’t something to fear or be ashamed of. Certainly not trite. It’s something to cherish, and he’s worthy of it.

Anyway, I’m fine.