Here have a GILLION TIDESTRIDER CHAMPION OF THE UNDERSEA HERO OF THE DEEP SINGER SONG WRITER OF TH

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This drawing took 6 different redraws from scratch, 8 different palettes and sooo much referencing to both the podcast and other designs to get a clear image in my mind of what Gillion looks like. Just thought I’d share to remind any artists whose work seems to be in a constant “ugly phase” to keep on keeping on :)

I'm gonna be honest, that aimsey response isn't enough for me. It comes off as deflecting rather than taking the responsibility of having a large platform requires. This rhetoric hurts real people, and as usual these days, trans people are always the center of it. I am very tired of pretending that this rhetoric has anything to do with lesbian spaces. It doesn't.

Who benefits from telling other people what they can or cannot identify as? Who benefits from explicit separation of communities? Who benefits from targeting and attacking fellow queer people?

Please think critically for a moment before regurgitating random opinions you find online. You do not know who made those posts.

“the begin again x paris mashup was for travis” “she sang it because travis was there” “it was about travis” NO she sang it about KATEVA it was for TWO FICTIONAL LESBIANS FROM A TINY OFF BROADWAY MUSICAL NOBODY KNOWS ABOUT (sorry pma) THAT RAN IN A TINY THEATER FOR LIKE HALF A SECOND FIVE YEARS AGO

So I've read a lot of your posts and replies about torture apologia and I wanted to ask you what you think the best way to educate people is without throwing books at their faces and how best to signal to readers that you're writing unrealistic torture.

I'm asking this as someone who is moderately educated on torture and its effects. But I do enjoy reading and writing some of the more outlandish tropes like brainwashing in over-the-top settings for a variety of reasons I'm not going to mention here because explaining that would take ages and risk my anonymity.

Because there is a way to tell people that you're writing erotica that shouldn't be used as educational material for safe sex or bdsm etiquette (because its purpose is to be fantastical and unrealistic) and while it's going to be way harder with torture since people are less educated on it, there should be a way to go about it, right?

for the record i'd prefer the torture discussion sorts of questions to go over to @dark-audit, but im too tired to copy this over rn lol

i'll say this: if you're going to knowingly perpetuate myths and/or make themes that inadvertantly justify the use of torture, a good handful of which are so accepted in public discourse and fiction, a good portion of your audience believes they're factual long before they read a single thing you've written - you better make sure you signal that that's exactly what you're doing, and systematically shut down any suggestion that treats your depiction of torture as realistic, or, yknow, thematically moral in the context of real world politics. one thing is disclaimers, another is having regular conversations with your readers about how torture actually functions, which means you're gonna have to dip your toes into reading up on the topic. this is the bare minimum for handling this sort of thing responsibly imo. the current conventions for depictions of torture are misinformation and justifications. if you want to change that status quo while sticking to harmful narratives "for a variety of reasons I'm not going to mention", you're gonna have to put some serious effort in out-of-text. apologies but you dont get the good boy points for free lol

the better option would be to maybe perhaps not indulge the myths, no matter how compelling they are to you? it requires a bit of effort but if the alternative is turning a blind eye to apologia, maybe it's worth that effort. imo torture is an interesting and cathartic thing to write about even if you stick to depictions that are in line with reality. there are so many facets to it you could dive into, i don't really see the point in engaging with war on terror/reeducation rhetoric. but maybe thats just me

Hello, happy STS! If you had to transform your story into a different genre, which one would you pick and what would it look like?

Happy STS! Oh boy you have no idea what you've just set off. Brace yourself avalanche incoming

Okay SO I actually have a looooot of aus for beast because who doesn't like to daydream and write au snippets for their wip to run from their responsibilities. Most of these are specific fandom aus but I have thought about a sci fi au of beast, so, sci fi it is.

This would honestly change a lot of the tone and turn it into kind of a different story, but I do have a lot of fun thinking about how it would work!! In the sci fi au Beasts are a new line of android soldiers Kosei are experimenting with to keep the peace, with a bunch of fancy abilities such as flying!! Or shooting fireballs from their hands!!! It's all smooth sailing until news breaks that some of the androids' codes have malfunctioned, and they've broken out from their facilities. Naturally the government comes out and apologizes, promises they'll get this solved soon, places bounties and creates a special task force to catch them, etc etc.

Anyway, Crys is just a normal mechanic, about as far removed from this situation as any other citizen, up to the point where a boy with metal wings crash lands in his dumpster. He's about to call the hotline and send up an alert to any bounty hunters and authorities nearby - until he notices one teeny tiny problem, which is: the boy is bleeding. Like, real, red, human blood. So oops. Looks like Kosei has been messing around with human experimentation.

Anyway I went a bit insane over this au so have a tiny snippet :D

All in all, Crys’s day goes pretty normally up to the point where the boy with metal wings crash lands into his dumpster. Well, not his dumpster, per se – just the one of the dumpsters behind his apartment, in a narrow alleyway off from the main street. It’s barely wide enough to fit a hoverbike in sideways, and the red-bricked walls are dirtied with soot and grit. The sky overhead is a watery strip of blue, empty of hovercrafts. The few rows of windows looking down on him, all darkened with grime, are closed as usual – trash collection is only once a week, and the fumes are awful. At any rate, he’s lugging a sack of broken parts behind him, holding his breath, when the boy falls out of the sky. It’s fast, and it happens quite literally – there’s a shadow, overhead, the sound of something tearing through the wind, and then a speeding blur slams straight into one of the bins with a thunderous crash. It’s the one for organic waste, which is why there isn’t a sickening crunch of bone against metal, but it still sounds like it hurts. There’s the glint of sunlight against metal, the silent hum of machinery, of gears whirring and clicking. Crys tenses. All he has is a pocketknife. And then – a groan, and a curse. The figure heaves themself over the lip of the dumpster, and Crys thinks, oh. It’s a boy around his age, or at least, he looks like a boy, because there are metal wings on his back. They’re beautiful – sleek and streamlined and gigantic – but also crooked and missing chunks of plating and spitting sparks. Some of the black paint has been scratched off, showing the silver underneath. Crys knows what they’re supposed to look like because he’s been seeing it all over the city, on wanted posters plastered on every street corner and every shop window, in the pamphlets sent out to every citizen in Kosei. Crows are one of the easiest to spot. The boy in front of him is a Beast. Which means he is not a boy at all, but an android. He is also covered in wounds leaking bright red blood. Crys feels the world slip out from under him. “Ah,” the boy says, meeting Crys’s gaze. His hair is a bird’s nest, dark and wild and sticking up every which way. His eyes are the color of obsidian. There’s a weak, wobbling grin on his face, his face pale with blood loss, which shouldn’t be possible. But you don’t have to be a mechanic to know that androids don’t bleed. Which means that, though the boy in front of him is a Beast, he is not an android at all. “Any chance,” the boy manages, “you can pretend you didn’t see me?” There’s a moment’s pause. The world holds its breath. Crys hesitates, hand halfway to his hologlass. The boy topples over the edge of the dumpster and passes out.

beast taglist: @sapphos-scientist @allianaavelinjackson @arctic-oceans @space-writes @reneesbooks

For @haro-whumps! Congrats on voting!

Prompt: Could I get a werepup absolutely CONVINCED they're going to be collared/muzzled/sent to the pound? Or perhaps they've run into a strange alpha were's territory and are panicking that the alpha is going to respond Poorly™

437 words (I couldn't get 500 without messing up the story, sorry, but it's close)

CWs: non-human whumpee (werewolf), non-human caretaker (werewolf), fear of being caught, fear of being hurt, ambiguous bleeding leg injury

The werepup backs into a corner of the alley.

He hadn't meant to come so far, he really hadn't, but he was so hungry. His stomach is so empty, the pangs are becoming normal. He was so hungry he hadn't stopped to pay attention to where he was going. And now he's in a stranger's territory, in a city no less, where there's hunters and traps and muzzles and pounds. And humans saw him and now he's down this alley, hoping they won't see him, won't come at him with nets and ropes and collars.

He yelps as his sore paw brushes against the wall, sending a shudder of pain up his leg. He's trapped.

He's not hard to find. All anyone has to do is follow the blood and it'll lead them straight to him.

A large, looming, wolf-shaped shadow appears at the end of the alley and starts stalking towards him. He can't back away any further and he snarls, hunkering down. He's small. He's small but not harmless, because no matter how harmless he is the alpha isn't going to just forgive him for encroaching on his territory.

The alpha stalks closer and closer and the pup whines, all bravado vanishing as he rolls onto his back, surrendering, trying to make it apparent really was an accident, being here. The alpha ignores this, circling him, sniffing the air.

He stops at the pup's injured leg and the pup tenses. Is he going to... what's he going to do to the pup's leg? Break it more thoroughly? That would teach the pup a lesson. But all he does... all he does, is sniff it thoroughly. And then he sniffs the pup's bottom too.

Huh?

Is he... is he being friendly?

The alpha comes round in front of the pup, and he doesn't look aggressive. Maybe curious. The pup, in a sudden (possibly foolish) bout of boldness, gets to his feet and licks the alpha on the nose.

The alpha stops, surprised, then nuzzles him. He mewls happily, disbelievingly. The strange wolf's not going to hurt him? He's... accepting him, even, possibly. Accepting the pup who has no-one to turn to.

His stomach shivers with nerves when the alpha opens his mouth, and he tenses, staying very still as the older wolf picks him up by the scruff of his neck and bounds out of the alley. Every step sends a sharp pain up his leg but he still feels lighter, no longer trapped.

Maybe he's found acceptance, maybe he hasn't. But somehow, he doesn't think that whatever happens now will be as bad as what he's leaving behind.

hi I'm studying DNA for my drama gcse and you seem like you have amazing thoughts on this play and I'm dying to know how you staged it since there's literally no videos online and I have a desperate need to see this play live but living vicariously through someone else's experiences works too

HI SORRY THIS IS A MONTH LATE ON ANSWERING FKSJBNSFB BUT. HIII OH MY GOD

firstly. i was in a performance of DNA like. seven and a half years ago or smth. a long time ago skfjbnsfkb. and while im still & forever headfull about it and the characters, a dear friend of mine have gone kind of off the rails about it in the intervening years since we were actually in the show, and most of our conceptions of the characters have diverged from their canon characterization in the play and have become. for lack of a better word. somewhat fanonized or flanderized by us in our fic writing about them. so all that said i don't know how much use my insights and thoughts about the play and the characters will be for your gcse (which is english/british/european for like. a big final test/exam, yes?? sorry am a dumb american etc)

but uhhh yeah. this play is crazy. i played Leah in our production and it was so fascinating to dig into the characters' interrelationships within the play and how both the group dynamic, the interpersonal dynamics, and the individual characters all kind of devolve and break down over the course of the play- us vs them, the individual versus the collective, internal and external, nature versus nurture, etc etc etc

also as a given by my role as leah, i really have so many thoughts about her relationship with phil. how toxic and codependent and lovely and awful it is for both of them. how they both break apart when they lose it. it was the belief of most of my cast that leah kills herself at the end of the play when she "disappears" and it was also part of my personal characterization that leah had fairly close and childhood-rooted relationships with both brian and adam, which impacts her arc over the course of the play. its also really fascinating to me to consider the foils between leah/phil/cathy/john tate and everything therein- the waxing and waning of them, the growth and destructions of their realtionships, leaders versus followers and what does that mean etcetc

also the only time phil says leah's name in the show is at the end of the third act after she spits out the candy at his feet and leaves him so. think about that. its the only time he says her name.

and here is an ad for spiralefes starters! this is the first normal ad for suletta after moving up her canon point to episode 22, so if we were threading before and you'd like a new starter with s2 suletta then feel free to like this! she's a much more confident person now but her overwhelming kindness remains.

after watching the finale i plan on leaving suletta's canon point at 22 permanently unless a miracle happens and we do get more for her story in the distant future. but for now it seems like her story is finished and so i plan on developing her more myself in-group. i'm not sure what form that will take yet, but i want suletta to connect with as many people as she can!

((nobody else is allowed to follow this blog now that it has reached Corinthian's favourite number uwu

lmao okay, eggs ahoy matey!

Side note: it’s so fun to see you go off exploring Dreblr. Even ur asks on other blogs where u dig up posts to show off to everyone — this is so much fun for me specifically.

i can tell that it’s so exciting for you 😭 like it’s just so fun to here people gush about their interests. but i also feel like it’s such a fun way to get shown stuff when you know that the person showing you knows what you’ll actually like haha

I could talk about the correlation between Gill and Jay’s relationship versus Br’aad and Sylnan’s all day long. I could talk about the four of them in general honestly.

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Send me “✰” if you REALLY want our characters to interact!

((Hey there, I'd love to interact with you too and I appreciate you contacting me! I have absolutely no idea who you're interested in muse wise though so if you want to message me over on discord so we can work that out and then potentially plot from there that'd be fine.))

i'm tired of political/social commentary horror give me the gut-wrenching stuff that with its tragism equals its terror........ 🥹👍

quick note: i’ve updated the submission rules, mainly just for clarity. if you all gave em a look id appreciate it!

"WOW!" he cackles, practivally hyena-esque, "That was really something, cupcake! You really are a coward, aren't you?" (— @hyperionhandsome , from Jack, medieval Fantasy au?)

"I..."

The words had stung before Leonard could even realise he hadn't recognised the voice that spoke to him, though the way his expression had shifted had been miniscule in comparison - the way the hermit's head had turned away in both hurt and shame had been the most prominent, though there was the subtlest crease in his brows, the smallest tightening of his lips and the clutch of gloved hands on the hem of his coat which spoke volumes in the moment Leonard himself was unable to do much more than struggle for a response.

...Who was this man? The thought had just dawned on him as Leonard felt his heart pound with humiliation - he didn't sound like a faerie, though the laughter reminded him of his own pact-beast. He didn't even sound like anything inhuman, as a matter of fact, but still - remarkably cruel.

...Leonard supposed it didn't matter, though. If the goal was the simple task of sparking that sad flame of guilt within the hermit, it took only a glance to see his lowered head and the bitter pain on his face to tell this stranger had succeeded in their mission. A low mumble of response was the reward to inform this rather boisterous passerby of their victory.

"...You are right." Leonard acquiesced, bitterly. He couldn't fight or promise any improvement anymore. "I am nothing more than a fool."

How truly pathetic... Something in his stomach sank at the prospect that it would have only taken a glance to tell of his plight. Typically the harsh sting of such words would be curved hearing it from his pact-beast, or even the likes of Caim, but there was something about hearing it from someone like a stranger that served to dig especially deep into the hermit's skin. It seemed that all at once, the nightmare of the garrison, the failure of his brothers, the failure to his family, and the potential failure that had awaited Seere at each second, had come crashing down on his consciousness with those words. That reminder.

Coward... It was aptly fit.

Leonard's head dragged itself back up from where it had previously stared down at his lap, but averted itself slightly to the side - his blind gaze still couldn't bring itself to look towards the source of the voice where it stood.

"...Please, speak no longer." Leonard said, the softness of his tone in sharp contrast with the low rumble of his voice, "I know my sins well enough to bear on my own. So I beg of you... Show mercy."

i can't stop thinking about how we don't know what was going on with shiv when she met tom and also who tk is and what the washington situation was, JESSE ARMSTRONG PLEASE, I'M BEGGING, YOU BROUGHT IT UP TWICE IN S4, WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?