#I've just been rotating them around in my brain

[howlingphoenix]

Tiktok absolutely ate these two up, but also i forgor to share these here lol. A vampire and werewolf I've been doodling while I took a quick intermission from my Xmen brainrot

[icewindandboringhorror]

*screenshots the highlights of my youtube to mp3 downloads folder as if it were some fancy aesthetic spotify wrapped image or whatever* 

[curiouschaosstarlight]

I need to, like...grab my Dottore and squish him down until he behaves-

[canisalbus]

Where and how did you learn to draw bodies both feral and anthro so beautifully detailed and soft? I love all the lines you add that act as muscle and wrinkles.

This isn't going to be a very helpful answer but I think anatomy might just be one of those things I've been autistically obsessed with since I was very little. Bodies have such good shapes, they're very satisfying to draw and I want to do them justice.

I've taken a couple of life drawing classes over the years and they've certainly helped (especially when it comes to figuring out dynamic poses, perspective and line of action), but I think for me the bulk of it has been just looking at living things really intently and trying to mentally pull them apart like a ball jointed doll so that I have, like, a 3D model of them in my brain that I can rotate around and pose.

Mammals are pretty meaty and flexible, we have a lot of soft tissue, and it's always fun to try to convey that feeling of fleshiness when drawing. The different layers of the body (skin, fat, muscle and bone, mostly) all interact with each other in interesting ways and different poses accentuate different aspects of them. Managing to capture small nuances like where your skin wrinkles when you move your joints, where you accumulate fat that creates softer and rounder shapes, and where your bones are closest to the surface, can really make your drawings seem more alive and organic.

[knife-eared-jan]

Guys I hear you all about Harding being the betrayer and I like what you're cooking but may I just posit the many suspicious things I've noticed around Lucanis (that I have noticed because I've been rotating him in my brain for 2 years)?? Careful, self-aware tinfoil incoming.

In The Wigmaker Job, WHO was the anonymous contract against the wigmaker from? Solas, I can smell u a mile away, buddy! Admit that it was you!

An *elf* "sent by their mysterious patron" brings them to the party. Ok.

Lucanis feels compelled to save the (elven) slaves there. Maybe that's just a heart of gold and he'd have done that for anyone, but that is so far missing from his character description. He's supposed to be pragmatic according to that. Maybe saving the elven slaves aligns with a larger goal of his though?

He could have killed Forfex in any way he wanted but somehow thought destroying the artefact that strengthens the veil and letting demons through was the way to go... ok. Ok. Like I remember reading that and being like why would you do that you dummy!

The wings in one of the new screenshots show that Lucanis clearly is not just using regular assassin skills but has some kind of wing magic. Oh and also, HIS EYEBALLS ITCH when something taps into the fade??? Like why? Nothing in his background actually suggests that affinity to magic?? WHy do you have a mage-like connection to the fade, my love???

Why did he need to have a fake funeral? Maybe because he doesn't actually follow the Crows agenda at all anymore and needed to ditch them because he has a different cause? One that aligns with exclusively targeting venatori magisters and saving their elven slaves?

Look at his tarot card. Are those eyes in the background??? You know, like from a Pride Demon, who also got a new purple makeover?

Again more eyes on his armor?

Purple eyes very sus in this game

Like GUYS do you notice how all of this is the same colour scheme!

[stormofdefiance]

True knowledge exists in knowing you know nothing || Dr. Ratio & Socrates

Okay, I legitimately laughed out loud writing that title, but listen. LISTEN.

Ratio's inspirations derive from many sources; from referencing Archimedes's brain-blast in the tub, to being doomed to have his head bonked by Newton's apple ad infinitum in his idle animation, to his ultimate line ('esse est percipi' / 'to be is to be perceived') a direct quote from Berkeley on Idealism - it's apparent that his design nods towards scholars across time periods rather than being a direct parallel to a singular academic.

Nevertheless, just for fun, I've been rotating Ratio and ancient greek philosophers around in my head and have had a great time chewing over how parallels Socrates in particular. I am in no way saying that Hoyo even thought about Socrates while they were designing Ratio, but I thought I'd share my thoughts. I think there are some worthwhile parallels to be drawn that touch on all aspects of Ratio's own philosophy regarding ignorance, the value of knowledge, and his deep appreciation of life. So, let's get into it.

Ratio is interested in humanity and curing 'ill minds with knowledge', that 'to turn a blind eye to the folly of others is not an etiquette, but a wicked worldly practice.' Ignorance is a disease - this is a concept that can be viewed through a Socratic lens. Socrates believed that that virtue and knowledge were impossible to separate from one another, and that virtue could be developed through acquiring knowledge and insight. If knowledge is virtue, then ignorance is vice. In Socrates's mind, no one would rationally choose to do something bad. People might choose to do bad things, but this is rooted in their own perception of the world - as in, someone would only choose to do something bad (for the world, or for themselves) because they believed (erroneously) that it was the right or good thing to do. To Socrates, the cure to this was knowledge: 'There are two kinds of disease of the soul, vice and ignorance.' & 'What does most harm in the world is not sinfulness but ignorance'.

To Ratio, 'If ignorance is an ailment, it is the duty of the scholars to weed it out and heal the universe'. He views his own ignorance as 'filth' that must be cleansed through methods such as reading. He also views knowledge as a method for humans to overcome their problems - 'Another day has passed. If your problem still hasn't been solved, is it possible the problem is you?' & 'You look distressed. Is something troubling you? if so, you can figure it out for yourself.' These statements sound harsh, but they also clue us into Ratio's philosophy - that through self-examination and improvement, one can overcome one's ailments.

Socrates was also known for being a trouble-maker, he was abrupt and tactless and did not care for someone's social standing nor decorum. He was also known for using what is now called the Socratic method, asking a series of questions that ultimately seek to show contradictions in the beliefs of those who posed them, and to move systematically towards a hypothesis free from contradiction. Socrates rarely made assertions himself - after all, he had no wisdom of his own. But he could interrogate others in order to expose their own foibles, much to the embarrassment and annoyance of those around him. He was once described as a 'gnat' chewing on the 'lazy horse of Athens', causing it to wake up and spring to life due to his persistent gnawing and prodding. Ratio also employs the Socratic method - 'I'm asking questions' - and also adopts sophist tactics such as playing devil's advocate and taking opposing sides (with both himself as seen a story quest, and with others as we see with his texts urging us to take up a side so he might debate us). Through questioning and interrogation, upsetting what we consider social convention and norms, we can dispel contradictions and thereby come closer to some form of truth.

To add to this - as highlighted in the replies below - Ratio’s skill ‘intellectual midwifery’ is a reference to the Socratic method. The idea being that Socrates helped those around him give birth to the knowledge that was already within them, rather than treating his students minds as empty vessels for him to fill with his own answers. Again this is beautifully echoed in Ratio - he doesn’t want to tell you how to live your life, he wants you to work out for yourself what it is you need, thus empowering oneself through self-examination and questioning.

Socrates did not believe in writing anything down. He believed that face-to-face communication was a far more effective way of communicating knowledge - which means, unfortunately, what we know of Socrates is primarily derived from secondary sources. Much of what we know about him today comes from Plato's dialogues, and Plato was known for liberally exercising artistic license.

Although Ratio is not dead, I find it interesting that his character story is told exclusively through secondary sources. To quote - '…There are no less than eight documentaries detailing his legendary exploits, and over a dozen memoirs about him. However, despite the plethora of commentaries, none of them seems to provide a compelling perspective.' It's as though there are no surviving fragments penned by Ratio's hand and all we have to go on is through the lenses of other people. This challenges us, perhaps, to try to think about our own interpretation of Ratio since secondary sources cannot be taken as a wholly unbiased account - and once again employing the Socratic method and empowering the reader to come to their own interpretation.

While Socrates left no writing behind, he was interested in spreading knowledge. Socrates spent most of his life in Athens, a city that was, during his lifetime (~470-399 BC), a hotpot of scholars, wisemen and philosophers. Athena, the Greek god of wisdom, was named after the city - her symbol the owl that is also appropriately perched on Ratio’s shoulder. Also in Athens at this time where the sophists. The sophists were a class of intellectuals who were known to teach courses in various subjects - but often for a high fee, and generally centred around the idea that persuasion and the use of knowledge as a tool was more important than wisdom or truth itself. There's some debate about whether Socrates could be characterised as a sophist himself, but, crucially, he is characterised as refusing to take payment for his teachings. He was born a plebeian (perhaps you might describe it as a mundane background.) He was known to dress in rags and go barefoot, speaking to and (often antagonising) people from all walks of life, preferring the marketplace as a center of debate than palaces or courtrooms. I can't help but think of the sophists as similar to the genius society (or at least Ratio's depiction of them in contrast to himself), cooped up in ivory towers and gatekeeping knowledge to the most privileged. He doubts if Herta's talent is always helpful to others, he compares Screwllum to a 'monarch'. Then again, the sophists may in fact be a bit of a parallel to the Intelligentsia Guild - from Ratio, 'when someone is willing to listen to knowledge that is being disseminated and circulated, a price is created'.

Socrates (or at least the Platonic depiction of Socrates) was at one time declared the wisest man in Athens by the Oracle of Delphi. Socrates balks at this assertion - how can he possibly be the wisest man in Athens when he in fact knows nothing at all? This was not a claim made of modesty - he truly believed that he had no wisdom, that he was unsure what 'wisdom' itself even was. Ultimately, Socrates concludes that the only way that the Oracle could be correct is that by actually acknowledging that he knows nothing he paradoxically is the wisest man in Athens. All wisdom, therefore, is rooted in wondering, with wondering only possible if one is open to admitting one's own ignorance.

What I love about all of this in relation to Ratio is that Ratio styles himself as a mundanite. The Intelligensia Guild advocates that 'all knowledge must be circulated like currency' and accepts 'all beings… who seek to learn'. Ratio has no time for the satisfied self-styling of intellectualism, he himself states that 'to speak knowledge, we must first make people realise their own folly.' No one is above criticism in this regard, even himself - again, to quote 'Whenever someone agrees with me, I feel like I must be wrong.' Again, I feel as though he would resonate with Socrates here: 'Smart people learn from everything and everyone, average people from their experiences, and stupid people already have all the answers'. With Aventurine, he is quick to mock his appearance as over-the-top and vapid - once again making it clear his distate for vanity and hollow displays of showiness (albeit he may have been acting for Sunday's sake here. Also, no comment about this coming from a man who runs around in a toga, lmao) Equally, with Aventurine, it is clear that Ratio is willing to learn from him - he apologises when he offends, he abhors his methodology and yet he still relies upon it and trusts in Aventurine's plan, he is drawn to him in some ways precisely because he is so different to himself. Aventurine (at least styles himself) as impulsive to Ratio's slow and steady methodology, Aventurine whose learning has been entirely self-made vs Ratio who has spent his life in classrooms, Ratio who scoffs at Aventurine's favourite games of chance yet adds slot machines to his simulated universe. And to Socrates, the experience of aporia – in all of its discomfort and disruption – is the very catalyst of wonder, and that wonder was not just the root of wisdom but also the way to live a good and happy life. There is something beautiful in this to me, and this extends to Ratio. Ratio fundamentally cares about life. For all his brashness, his lashing out against 'idiots', his harsh demeanour - he wants people to live good lives, he wants to contribute to the good of humanity - all people, even those he is annoyed by, he cares so profoundly and absolutely about life. The entire reason why he is obsessed with wisdom and learning is not to exalt or elevate himself, not as some kind of ritualistic expression of piety towards a deity, but it is instead an expression of devotion towards life itself. Ratio has a strict work out routine not so that he can show off his body, but because living healthily is living well and working out is a component of that. Even the way he fusses and worries about Aventurine, someone he is pointedly irritated by, reveals how deeply his care runs. So so much of his character is centered on caring for life, even if it is not immediately obvious.

Finally, I'd like to highlight some ways in which Ratio is not like Socrates. First of all, Socrates was repeatedly described as 'ugly' by fellow philosophers Plato and Xenophon - this is contrast to Ratio being repeatedly described as 'handsome'. This is an interesting subversion to me (albeit likely an indulgent one) as in both cases both men attempt to distance their physical appearance from the weight of their words. Ratio wears the bust for many reasons, but way to view it is that he is attempting to stop his appearance from bearing any influence in the subject of debate.

Socrates was also said to be blessed by a divine touch, and as we know, this is something that agonises Ratio as Nous has not yet turned THEIR gaze towards him.

Lastly, Ratio has - thankfully - not yet been ordered by the state to drink hemlock for all his trouble-making and blustering. Though perhaps he may someday be put on trial by the IPC if the theories that he is working alongside Aventurine to undermine the corporation are true - we will just have to wait and see.

Thanks for reading my little ramble. I'd be super interested in anyone's thoughts if they'd like to share, but regardless, I'll leave off on some of my favourite wee quotes from the Rat man:

'Even a life marked by failure is a life worth living - it is only in moments of solitude and despair, when help is absent, that fools grasp how to pick themselves up.'

'Do stay alive. I wish you the best of luck.'

[readychilledwine]

Kissed by Fire pt 3

Summary - Amelia Archeron, the oldest of the made sisters, sacrificed more than her sisters would ever understand, and more than she would ever allow them to know. Now, they want her to sacrifice her one chance at happiness, too.

Warnings - Amelia was a prostitute, body insecurities, mentions of abuse, and the author's loose understanding of chess, but using it more as symbolism and foreshadowing

A/n - it's happeniiiiiing. Things are short and sweet to allow me to make a giant scene where Eris and Amelia meet in the next chapter, and we get to hear Eris say my favorite Eris line to her 🫠

Series Masterlist ✨️ Eris Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist

Rhys sat across from Amelia, a chessboard set up between them. 

He was ruining a game he and Azriel had been playing before he left for the Mountain, but he could not think of any other way to explain to Amelia how powerful and valuable she was, and this was a language the oldest sister would understand after years of playing with her father.

“Lower fae with minimal powers,” he grimaced at the term, “would be like the pawn pieces.” He held one obsidian Pawn in his hand. “They're able to move one space toward but can not go back. Lesser fae can sometimes winnow, but if they make it is another conversion entirely, and they will be worn magically from the effort.”

Amelia nodded. She watched as Rhys picked a bishop, “Low fae with more magic singing through them would be like a bishop. Larger winnowing patterns are possible but still limited.”

“Most fae who prefer to call themselves by their race, such as my illyrians, would be similar to a knight. Capable of larger movements and typically able to jump exactly where they want, granted, most would rather just fly, so winnowing is not a skill the Illyrians truly care about.”

“All brawn no brain,” Rhys smiled at her statement.

His hand moved to a rook. “High fae would be similar to the rook. Typically they're able to go wherever they like within reason, but the jump may be difficult and use more magic than expected.”

He ignored the king piece, the least valued piece in chess, and moved to the queen. “You, my dear Amelia, are the queen piece. There is no limit on your movement,” he paused, ensuring she was looking at him. “Through our world or into another if wanted.”

“Lovely. What exactly does that mean?”

Rhys smiled at Amelia, watching as she rotated in her seat to stare at the map of constellations he had charted many years ago. “It means you can lead whole armies into new worlds and territories by just looking at one of those strings that holds the fabrics of our world together. It means the realm, our world, can communicate to you where to go when you ask and you can get there regardless of the distance with less than half the amount of effort it takes for a High Lord to winnow from Spring to the Night Court.”

He paused, looking at the map with her. “It means you could pull one of those strings and open a rift to a new world. If they are out there.”

“And why is this such a useful skill that you all are now fighting about taking me to Hewn City?” Amelia clocked Rhys straighten slightly, eyes glaring.

“You've been listening to conversations not meant for you again.”

Amelia leaned forward, wrapped in that sweater that made Rhysand's skin crawl anytime he saw it. “Perhaps you all should not discuss someone like they aren't sitting in the same home as you. Who is Eris?”

Rhys sighed, leaning forward to meet her at eye level and show her he would not, and would never, be intimated by her. “Eris is Lucien's older brother. He is a heartless, cruel, and selfish asshole.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “I've been around my fair share of bad men, Rhys. 

“Not that were over 500 years old and used words for warfare. Eris likes powerful things. He will see you as an object for collection.”

“Sounds familiar," Rhysand glared at her serpent smile, "You assume I would allow myself to be collected.”

“I assume it would be best to protect you and not risking him charming his way to you.”

“So, he's charming.” Rhys could help but laugh, watching as Amelia smiled too, the air feeling lighter. “I still think you should let me go.” She batted her lashes at him, watching as his chest stilled and smirked.

“You are dangerous as well. Batting those pretty eyes to get your way. Have you always been like this?”

“No,” she replied softly. He watched her mind go back to a simpler time, chasing a young Feyre through the market in fine clothing before going back to the night she sold everything to keep them alive. “I was made dangerous.”

Amelia stared at the scrap of the clothing Feyre was holding up to her. She could have sworn this was Rhysand mocking her, attacking her despite the period of almost friendship they'd had the past week. 

“I'm not wearing that,” Amelia curled into herself, hugging herself tighter. “That isn't even a dress.” The dress, if she caved to Feyre's desires and called it that, was surprisingly white. But it would cover nothing. 

Amelia had worn dresses like it before. Dresses meant to entice and entertain. Dresses meant for seduction. Dresses meant to flaunt. She hated them every time. Her mother and grandmother had beaten modesty into her, and her former line of work had ripped it apart. She had hoped in this new body, this new life, she could go back to the safety fabric offered.

Rhys had promised never again. He promised her safety. This dress wasn't safety. “Ask Rhys if there's something else I can wear.” 

Feyre's smile fell. “I am high lady of this court-”

“Then if it was your idea, I will remind you that you are my sister. My baby sister. Asking me to wear this is so violating, Feyre. I would never ask that of you. Regardless of my status over you." The one you constantly hang over my head was left unspoken. It was resentment on Amelia's end, just annoyance at Feyre's newfound entitlement.

“Do you not want to reclaim your body? Hybern took your human body from you. Don't you want to own what you have now?”

Amelia could hardly believe what she was hearing as she mentally called for Rhys, and he appeared. “I do not have to wear that to reclaim myself.” The High Lord's eyes were wide as he took the dress from Feyre. They were communicating silently between them, the female glaring up at her husband. 

“I had a different dress commissioned in case you said no to this one. We do allow choice in this court,” Rhys started slowly, taking Feyre's jaw in his hand. “If your sister likes this one so much, she can wear it herself.”

Amelia couldn't help but smile at the two of them. Despite her and Feyre never being as close as she would have liked, seeing her happy, seeing Feyre smile, brought Amelia joy. “You look beautiful when you're happy, Feyre.” You watched her sister flush and Rhysand smile wide. “Even if your mate is mediocre.” The male's mouth fell open as Feyre began to laugh, eyes sparkling at the sign of life coming back to Amelia. 

“Lia! You can't say that,” her voice was laced with giggles as Rhysand stood there in shock, seemingly too stunned to speak. “I think you broke him.” 

“Good,” Amelia kissed her brother's cheek softly before taking the dress, caving to Feyre's wants for once in her younger sister's life. “He needs to be humbled every so often. I will wear this once. Then, I want things that cover a bit more. We can compromise on design." Feyre sighed as Amelia kissed her temple, that once motherly love healing a small part of her. "I am going to freeze in this."

“What do you want in return?”

“Freedom for the night. No brooding male following my every footstep. No wings hovering in the distance. Just freedom for one night.”

Feyre did not give Rhysand time to fight. “Deal!”

Eris hated Hewn City. He had since he was first brought to the Mother forsaken place as a child, but now it reminded him all too much of that mountain. Of Amarantha. 

He wondered how Rhysand had the strength to be down or if the strength was just another finely crafted mask the male wore. 

His usual room had not changed since he was last here over a hundred years ago. Eris threw himself on the bed, allowing a few moments of rest on the dark sheets and blanket before he would have to get dressed into the fine trousers and jacket he had packed himself. 

He had no worries about Keir. Dealing with that male was easy. If he believed he was benefiting from whatever he was offered, he normally took the bait without question.

He had packed an exquisite outfit, smiling at the amount of his father's money sewn into each thread. He checked it over, ensuring nothing was loose and out of place before getting dressed. He could already hear the music, the laughter, and smirked, knowing he was late and would walk in while Rhysand was already sat on his throne. 

He walked along the palace walls, waiting until the doors opened before entering. Azriel was the first to spot him, immediately going to Rhysand and whispering in his ear. He felt those violet eyes on him studying him, but nothing mattered to Eris as much as what he saw. 

There, on the dance floor, was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. For Eris, nothing else mattered. There was no one else there.

It was just her. 

That beautiful creature, laughing too hard to be deemed appropriate. Smiling larger than she should. Dancing with every male that asked. 

She was an enigma, and Eris was more than ready to dive into every complex piece of her.

General Taglist:

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Kissed by Fire:

@justdreamstars @coralseacourt @kemillyfreitas @impossibelle @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @isa1b2h3 @glaciuswduo

@mybestfriendmademe @st4r-girl-official @fandomarchiveilyd @chasing-autumns-chill @tequilya @skyesayshi @maddybraps @acourtofbatboydreams @homeslices @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @believinghurts @going-through-shit

[shizucheese]

Okay okay okay, I need everyone to listen to me about this.

I know I kinda talked about this before in a reblog to someone else's post, but the idea has been rotating in my brain ever since and I feel like it needs to be further explored. A lot of people have been talking about the differences between TMA and TMP, and memeing about how people can actually quit the OIAR (which btw, I'll believe when I actually see it, by which I mean if we're able to get through the entire series without Teddy either coming back or turning up dead or otherwise facing "You can quit but you can never leave" levels of repercussions) but like nobody, from what I've seen, has been talking about what imo is the pretty glaringly obvious element at play here. So let's talk about the spider in the room, shall we? What do we know about the Magnus Institute in TMA?

People came there to give statements regarding their spooky experiences, including people who had doubts about doing so (because they weren't sure if the Institute was reputable, because they weren't sure if they believed what they had experienced, because they served a different entity so what reason would they have to do something for The Eye, etc).

The head archivist would ultimately become the Archivist, an Avatar of the Eye.

The Archivist's abilities included enabling statement givers to give their statements without going off track or leaving out details (we even see what happens when it's not the Archivist taking the statement), and being able to compel people to tell them things against their will, from statements to their darkest secrets.

You couldn't quit, at least not without gouging your eyes out.

The Magnus Institute was a part of the Eye.

Or was it? Because the other thing we know about the Magnus Institute is that the Web was using it as part of its plan to break free from the TMA world and gain access to the other worlds out there. How much of the compulsion aspects of the Institute-- people being drawn to the Institute to give statements, the Archivist's ability to draw statements and secrets out of people, people's inability to quit the Institute--was actually because of the Web? Where does the Eye's "compulsion to seek out knowledge even if it could be bad/ harmful" end and the Web's "not being in control of your own actions" begin? Was the Archivist--at least in the form Gertrude and John took--really purely an Avatar of the Eye? Or were they an Avatar of a mix between The Eye and the Web, much like how Martin, if he were to ever become a full fledged Avatar, likely would have been a mix of the Eye and the Lonely, just like his domain in S5 was? After all, Jonah was an Eye Avatar, was he not? And as far as we saw, he never needed to compel information out of people. He just Knew it (and used it to torment people).

One of the themes I've been playing around with in my TMA fanfictions since I first finished the podcast for the first time last winter is how the course of history would be different in the alternate worlds, where the Web wasn't interfering--at least not on the same scale, or for the same reasons--since it had already gotten what it wanted at the end of TMA. And I think that's exactly what we're seeing a version of in Protocol. I think the OIAR is what it looks like when it's entirely the Eye at play, with 0 interference from the Web. The Eye is all about having your secrets exposed, being watched, being followed. The tape recorders--something that would need to be turned off and on (controlled) in order to record something--were a tool of the Web. Now we're "witnessing" the events of the podcast through the audio from security cameras and other things that are constantly running; constantly seeing and listening without needing to be turned on and off. The statements aren't being given by people who somehow found their way to the institute and were on some level or another compelled to tell their tales. They're journal entries detailing a person's private thoughts. They're letters meant only for the eyes of the recipient, sharing secrets not meant for anyone else. They're recorded therapy sessions.

And the statements that are related to the Eye? The ones read in John's voice? They're forum and blog posts, which not only makes them the only ones whose sources didn't have the same expectation of privacy as the others, also ties them to the Web, since computers and websites were previously established as being associated with it.

[tblsomedoodles]

I can explain.

So, i've been thinking...i've never done anything with the non-apocalypse futures past a few months.

I'd also been thinking, that out of all the fan kids i've seen around, there wasn't a lot (if any) for Raph.

I ALSO thought, Family Web would be an absolutely horrible au to have Bishop be involved in (mostly b/c Leo would NOT be good with an evil government scientist. at all.)

anyways, here's an in-story explanation for what i got so far

When Raph's 25, he gets word that there's some government program doing some shady things. Now that wouldn't really be his concern, but they're rumored to be using mutagen so they feel obligated to check it out.

SO the three of them check it out (Not leo. He tried but the medical equipment got to him. He portaled to the roof to wait on standby.) They find a lot of failed experiments and the like, most being with at least some turtle dna for some reason.

They also find two very young, very alive baby turtle mutants.

So, of course, they take them home. (after completely destroying the lab, information and all.)

They find out a few days later (b/c of course Donnie copied the info and he and Jenny have been going through it for anything good) that ever since the failed invasion, Bishop's group had been taking their DNA samples left over from various fight locations, (and probably paying a few people to get blood samples too) and using it it to do genetic experiments. B/c the four have such a hodge-podge of dna to start with, the experiments were never stable. The two they stole being the best they've accomplished over the years. The two that just happen to have used Raph's dna.

I'm going to have to do more with this. Like give the boys adult looks and the like. but these two were being rotated in my brain on high for list the last 9 hours now and if i didn't share them tonight i was going to go insane. (i couldn't even focus at work i was so fixated on these two bitties.)

[transmutationisms]

serious question but do you personally believe there is a way to approach psychiatry in a way that uplifts and upholds patient autonomy and wellness or is the entire trade essentially fucked haha. Btw this is an ask coming from a 3rd year med student—with a background of severe mental illness—who is considering a residency in psychiatry after receiving life-saving care in high school pertaining to said conditions. (I have peers who have been involuntarily hospitalized and treated horribly in psych wards, with approaches i patently disagree with, but was lucky not to experience. I don’t like modern american medicine’s approach to mental illness; “throw pills” at it to “make it go away” ie. a problem of overprescribing, inadequate and non-holistic approach to mental health, and i feel a lot of that can be attributed to the capitalistic framework. I also def agree with you that so much of what can be considered normal human responses to traumatic events/normal human suffering can be unnecessarily pathologized—a great example being the whole “chemical imbalances in the brain is the ONLY reason why im like this” argument that ive unfortunately fallen hard for when i was younger and am still currently dismantling within myself…and like dont even get me started on this field’s history of demonizing POC, women, LGBT, etc). Like i deeply love my psych rotations so far, and i utterly feel in my gut that this is the manner in which i would like to help people—a lot of whom are just like me—but im wondering if there is a way to reconcile these aspects in a way that one can feel morally okay participating within such an imperfect system, in ur opinion… ngghhhhhh i just want to be a good doctor to my patients…

(ps i love all ur writing and analysis on succession!! big fan mwah <333)

i don't mean to sound unduly pissy at you, specifically, but i do have to say: every single time i've talked about antipsych or broader criticism of medicine on this website, i immediately get a wave of responses like this, from doctors/nurses/psychs/students of the above, asking me to, like, reassure them that they're not doing something immoral or un-communist or whatever by having or pursuing these jobs. and it's honestly frustrating. why is it that these conversations get re-framed around this particular line of inquiry and medical ego-soothing? why is it that when i say "the medical encounter is not structured to protect patient autonomy or well-being," so many people hear something more along the lines of "doctors are mean and i wish they were nicer"? why is it that it's impossible to discuss the philosophical and structural violence of academic and clinical medicine without it becoming a referendum on the individual morality of doctors?

i'm choosing to read you in good faith because i think it's possible to re-re-frame this line of questioning to demonstrate to you the sorts of critiques and inquiries i find more interesting and more conducive to patient autonomy and liberation. so, let me pick apart a few lines of this ask.

"is the entire trade essentially fucked?"

if you're thinking of trying to 'reform' the project of medical psychology within existing infrastructures and institutions, then yeah, it's fucked. if you're still assuming that affective distress can only be 'treated' within this medical apparatus (despite, again, no psychiatric dx satisfying any pathologist's understanding of a 'disease' ie an aberration from 'normal' physiological functioning) then you're not challenging the things that actually make psychiatry violent. you're simply fantasising about making the violence nicer.

"I don’t like modern american medicine’s approach to mental illness; “throw pills” at it to “make it go away” ie. a problem of overprescribing, inadequate and non-holistic approach to mental health, and i feel a lot of that can be attributed to the capitalistic framework."

i hate when i talk about psychotropic drugs being marketed to patients using lies like the chemical imbalance myth, and then pushed on patients—including through outright force—by psychiatrists, and the discussion gets re-framed as one about 'overprescribing'. my problem is not with people taking drugs. i am, in fact, so pro-drugs that i think even the ones administered in a clinical setting sometimes have value. my issue is with, again, the provision of misleading or outright false information, the use of force and coercion to put patients on such drugs in order to force social conformity and employability, and the general model of medicine and medical psychology that assumes patients ought to be passive recipients of medical enlightenment rather than active participants in their own treatment who are given the agency to decide when and how to engage with any form of curative or meliorative intervention.

'holistic' medicine and psychiatry do not solve this problem! they are not a paradigm shift because they continue to locate expertise and epistemological authority with the credentialed physician, and to position patients as too sick, stupid, or helpless to do anything but receive and comply with the medical interventions. there are certainly psychotropic drugs that are demonstrably more harmful than others (antipsychotics, for example), and some that are demonstrably prescribed to patients who do not benefit from them and are even harmed by them. conversely, there are certainly forms of intervention besides pharmaceuticals that people may find helpful. but my general critique here is aimed less at haggling over specific methods of intervention, and more at the ideological and philosophical tenets of medicine that cause any interventions to be imposed by force or coercion on patients, then framed as being 'for their own good'. were suffering people given the information and autonomy to actually choose whether and how to engage in any kind of intervention, some might still choose drugs! my position here is not one of moralising drugs, but making the act of taking them one that is freely chosen and available as an option without relying on physician determination of a patient's interests over their own assessment of their needs and wants.

"so much of what can be considered normal human responses to traumatic events/normal human suffering can be unnecessarily pathologized"

true, but don't misunderstand me as saying that drugs or any other form of intervention should be forcibly withheld from those who do want them and are made fully aware of what risks and harms seeking them could entail. again, this would still be an authoritarian model; my critique is aimed at increasing patient autonomy, not at creating equally authoritarian and empowered doctors who just have slightly different treatment philosophies.

"dont even get me started on this field’s history of demonizing POC, women, LGBT, etc"

ok, framing this as "demonisation" tells me that you're not understanding that, again, this is a systemic and structural critique. it is certainly true that a great many doctors currently are, and have historically have been, outright racist, trans/misogynist, ableist, and so on. framing this as a problem of a well-intentioned discipline being corrupted by some assholes is getting it backwards. medicine attracts prejudiced people, not to mention strengthens and promotes these prejudices in its entire training and practice infrastructures, because of its underlying philosophical orientation toward enforcing 'normality' as defined by 18th-century statistics and 19th-century human sciences that explicitly place white, cis, able-bodied european men as the normal ideal that everyone else is inferior to or failing to live up to. doctors who really nicely tell you that you're too fat are still using bmi charts that come from the statistical anthropometry of adolphe quételet and the flawed actuarial calculations of metlife insurance. doctors who really nicely deny you access to transition surgery are still operating under a paradigm that gives the practitioner authority over expressions and embodiments of gender. the issue isn't 'demonisation', it's that medicine and psychiatry explicitly attempt to render judgments about who and what is 'normal' and therefore socially 'healthy', and enforce those standards on patients. this is not a promotion of patient well-being, but of social conformity.

"i deeply love my psych rotations so far, and i utterly feel in my gut that this is the manner in which i would like to help people"

let me ask you a few questions. you say that you like your psych rotations... but how do your patients feel about them? is their autonomy protected? are they in treatment by free choice, and free to leave any time they wish? are they treated as human beings with full self-determination? if you witnessed a situation in which a patient was coerced or forced into a certain treatment, or in which you were not sure whether they were consenting with full knowledge or freedom, would you feel empowered to intervene? or would doing so threaten your career by exposing you to anger and retaliation from your higher-ups? what higher-ups will you be exposed to as a resident, and then as a practicing physician? could you practice in a way that committed fully, 100%, to patient autonomy if you were working at someone else's practice, or in a hospital or clinic? could you, according to current medical guidelines, even if you had your own practice?

when you say "this is the manner in which i would like to help people", what do you mean by "this"? can you define your philosophy of treatment, and the relationship and power dynamic you want to have with any future patients? is it one in which you hold authority over them and see yourself as determining what's in their 'best interests', even over their own expressed wishes? have you connected with patient advocates, psych survivors (other than your friends), and radical psychiatrists and anti-psychiatrists who may espouse heterodox treatment philosophies that you could consider? do you think such philosophies are sufficient for protecting patient autonomy and well-being, or are they still models that position the physician's judgment and authority over that of the patient?

"im wondering if there is a way to reconcile these aspects in a way that one can feel morally okay participating within such an imperfect system"

and here is the crux of the problem with this entire ask. you are wondering how to sleep at night, if you are participating in a career you find morally distasteful. where, though, do your patients enter into that equation? do you worry about how they sleep at night, after having interacted with a system of social violence that may very well have traumatised them under the guise of providing help? why does your own guilty conscience worry you more than violations of your patients' bodies, minds, and basic self-determination?

i can't tell you whether your career path is morally acceptable to you. i don't think this type of guilt or self-flagellation is fruitful and i don't think it helps protect patients. i don't, frankly, have a handy roadmap sitting around for creating a new system of medicine and health care that rests on patient autonomy. affective distress is real, and is not something we should have to bear alone or with the risk of having violence inflicted upon us. what you need to ask yourself is: how does the medical model and establishment serve people experiencing such distress? how does it perpetuate violence against them? and how do you see yourself countering, or perpetuating, such violence as someone operating within this discipline? what would it mean to be a 'good' actor within a violent system, if you do indeed believe that such a thing is ontologically possible?

[bornagainmurdock]

manic delusions & a gentle boyfriend

author's note: i, in a mania induced haze, created a playlist about how much i want to fight matt the other day, so inspired by my need to calm tf down, i offer you this. as always, not all mania looks the same or is the same.

contents: fluff but the angsty kind a little bit, matt murdock x reader, gender neutral reader, reader experiences mania, undisclosed mental illness, basically how matt helps with a manic episode

word count: 1.4k

While Matt had never necessarily experienced mania himself, when you explained how it worked for you to him and how to tell you were about to have an episode. The signs were never the same, but the motivations were. You'd done the thousands of dollar shopping sprees, the impromptu trips around the country via your ratty old car, the detailed documents abotu elaborate plans you couldn't comprehend when the episode lasted. If fact, Matt had been present for most of them, not stopping you, because then the urge would continue, but helping you ride through them safely.

Today Matt caught you in the middle of a shopping spree on your laptop at hte dining room for craft supplies. They were on sale, what were you expected to do.

"Can we step away from that for a minute?" Matt was kind with his words knowing that any aggressive push would send you sprialing any further.

"In a minute. I'm busy." Your eyes were glued to the screen, scrolling endlessly through the site's inventory.

"I see that. I'm just worried about you." He sighed, sitting at the opposite side of the table.

"I'm not manic—"

"I trust you. I just want you to take a break from the screens for an hour or so, your eyes need the break." He was gentle still, sure to not cross any emotional or physical boundaries.

"Yah I think you're right. I think I might go on a run along the Hudson river." You sprang to your feet, bouncy as ever.

"It's always great to move your body, but I think maybe we should sit down for a bit together. We haven't talked much today." He knew if you left the house you'd come back overexerted, damaging your joints in the process.

"Okay?" You said, walking to sit on the floor in the open space of the apartment.

"What's going through your head?" He joined you on the floor, still at a distance to allow you to breathe.

He had realized maybe a day ago that you were having an episode and unable to realize it, too deep in it to see the light. This confrontation, if you could call it that, could make it worse, or, hopefully, give you a chance to reflect on your behavior and practice some coping mechanisms to come back down to earth.

"You think I'm manic." You said blunty, like a knife in Matt's chest.

"I do." He rotated his hands in his lap, face pointed down towards the floor. "And, I'm worried about you."

"I'm not manic."

Matt knew this was going to be hard, but he was hopeful.

"Okay, I trust you. You can go back to what you're doing. I just wanted to check in." He started to stand before he was interrupted by your thoughts.

"Okay, well maybe I am. But I don't think it's a bad thing. I've gotten so much done. I've deep cleaned the whole apartment. I'm all caught up on work for the next two weeks. I'm gonna learn how to cross stitch." You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly trying to think through each of those sentences before Matt could. "Okay, so I'm manic. How do I fix it?" You pouted with the last sentence.

"Nothing to fix. Your brain is just having a time right now, and we're gonna work through it together." He smiled, scooting closer to intertwine a hand with yours. "How about we risk assess, hmm?"

"I think that's a good idea."

"Okay first one, cleaning. What do you think about that activity?" He was still, but open, hoping this dialogue would help until the brain chemicals subsided.

"Cleaning is helpful for the house, and for us, but I probably didn't pay as much attention as I would have liked during the tasks. I probably overworked my body in the process. I think this time it's a net positive as we haven't cleaned much since last season."

"That's a good analysis. How about the second one now." Matt said. He had read some of the books your therapist had recommended to you, and was very attentive when you explained how your brain worked, hoping the break down of tasks would help you realize the bigger picture.

"Getting my work done is good, but getting the next two weeks done is too much. I won't have anything to do for two weeks now. Net negative." You slouched into Matt's touch, leaning against his arm and resting there.

"Okay, and three?"

"I don't know how to cross stitch and I haven't watched or read any tutorials. I think I'm interested in it, but I should be thoughtful about buying materials in case I don't stick with it. Net neutral."

"Good job. Is there anything else you'd like to break down and think about with another brain here with you?" Matt was now rubbing your arm that was closest to him, trying to ground you with touch.

"Can I think and get back to you?"

"Of course you can. Thank you." He untangled himself from you and stood, helping you up in the process and leading you back to your computer. "Why don't you buy a small beginner kit and you can tell me all about it."

"Okay."

"And here's my card." Matt pulled his wallet from his back pocket and passed a card to you. He knew you were less inclined to spend him money than your own because of guilt.

"Thank you Matt."

"You're welcome baby. I'm gonna go sit on the couch and you join me when you're ready to give a lecture on cross stitch."

----

Later that night, after the lecture and a series of snacks Matt was willing to consider dinner, you both sat on the couch needing to get ready for bed.

"You're not tired, are you?" He said, turning to face you.

"No. Dumb brain chemicals." You pouted again, showing it with the tone of your voice.

"Why don't I help you draw a bath, and you can pick out a bath bomb or some bath salts and I can sit with you while you relax?"

"I'd like that."

"Then, let's go!" Matt jumped up from the couch with a smile, once again reaching out to lead you there.

Once inside, Matt passed you the bin with all the fancy bath and shower supplies for you to sort through.

"I'm thinking pomegranate bath bomb and some CBD bath soak. The one with glitter." You pulled them out and set them on the counter.

"Sounds good to me." Matt said.

He turned on the faucets, trying to find the perfect blend of hot and cold that would be comfortable but not too overwhelming. You were bad at telling temperatures when manic, often making soup of yourself in the bath.

You started to strip, walking around in circles to ease the excitement of a fancy bath. Your clothes in a pile on the floor, you warn Matt before he about trips over them.

"What color towel?"

"Red please!" You shout back.

"Alright." He sets the towel over the hooks next to the bath and strips himself of most of his clothes, helping you into the tub before sitting down next to it. He turns off the faucets and the silence dances around the room.

"Matt, can you play with my hair?"

"Of course I can. Do you just want me to talk and try to get you back on the ground?" His closer hand moved to your hair, brushing over it with a bit of pressure to remind you of his presence.

The bath was warm but not too hot. The temperature eventually caught up to you, beads of sweat forming on your forehead.

The bath bomb was almost done fizzing, bouncing between your legs dying the water a vibrant red.

"I wish you could see the color of this bath bomb, kinda looks like the DD suit." You splashed it for a second, enjoying the novelty of it.

"Story time?" He laughed.

"Story time!"

"Okay so yesterday at work, Foggy and Karen both decided to pull a prank on me," Matt went further into detail than he had to, attempting to help you picture it in your own head, "The coffee machine, you know the one on the counter in the office that almost never gets clean. Well, they took the coffee filter out of it, so when I went to make coffee, hot beans. poured out. Like coarse ground coffee beans, right into my favorite mug, the one you got me—"

[erinwantstowrite]

i feel like if you released a 24 hour + video of you talking about your plans for your original book i would sit and watch all of that with no breaks. so: would you be willing to share at least the bare bones of the plot you have now? or even some tropes that would be in it? or maybe random questions like how many main characters? how many povs? if it's sci-fi or fantasy? just stuff like that!

ahhhh!! i'd love to talk about them because they're constantly rotating in my brain!! i hope this doesn't get too long but we all know me, i can never stop yapping 😭

(okay this is present erin editing before posting and yeah this got long guess who called it. anyways there's art and stuff under the cut as well)

(Marked this as mature with violence only because there is an image below where I drew injuries/cuts on a character)

This book has been a thousand different books in all kinds of settings, plots, lessons, etc, and that's because I've had these characters since I was in middle school. At first I was so obsessed with them that I'd write and draw them all the time, to the point that my teachers were concerned I wasn't paying attention. I was seriously into magic and fantasy at the time because Harry Potter books were still the epitome of writing to my middle school brain. Ruby was a wizard with a bird theme that lived in the countryside and one day found out that her town was "alive" in a sense... But after I lost that sketchbook with all of the details (devastated to this day), and started venturing into other books series and shows, etc, I sort of forgot about the og story or what it was like. What remained was a love for the characters I had made over anything else about them, so I'd end up writing stories with a different theme each time, but the ocs being the same, just with their backgrounds shifted. (Around the time I was obsessed with VLD, Ruby was in a sci-fi plot set on a planet in another solar system.)

One of the most recent iterations was Ruby and the other characters essentially struggling to understand death, life, and everything in between. The story is called "Behind the Blue Glass" and I still really like that title lol. All of them had died on the same day, at the same time, just in various different ways, and then all of them came back to life in the same manner. They all developed different powers from the experience: Liam could float/manipulate gravity), August's body was essentially a phantom that could go through objects and disappear, Vin could possess people, Jean had an empathy link with the dead and could talk to and see them clearly, and Maya could figure out someone's cause of death/also tell when people were about to die. As for Ruby, she's the only one who can move freely between the land of the living and the land of the dead. It's different from Jean seeing the dead, as she's still in the land of the living.

The plot of that story was Ruby having dreams/visions of these other people she had never met before and knowing she needed to find them and set "something" right, but she didn't know what. She sets out to find them anyways, and they each join her on her quest to find everyone simply because they never got an answer to how they came back from the dead and find it weird that they all died on the same day and time. They solve deaths of ghosts they come across, meet people who are still grieving lost ones, have to lay some of the ghosts down to rest- all while figuring out why these shady people have started following them and trying to stop them from figuring out what happened to them. I even made some first draft titles (definitely, 10000% inspired by PJO because I was reading it at the time):

to top it all off, it's set in the 2010's I believe? Around that time. Just because I think more books should write about the time era

I have some (recentish) art of the characters:

first image: (Liam on the right, August on the left)

this is what Ruby looked like when I was first designing them for the story:

They're meant to look dead-ish but this art was SO long ago when I wasn't confident in my art so Ruby just looks like a wet rat or smth idk what is going on here

And here's Vin!! I don't hate this drawing of him that much, surprisingly, but this was also drawn a while ago

and this was some art i was planning at the time:

i think that's all of the art that i have for this story (at least on this computer. My old laptop might have more but it's been laid to rest)

to be honest, i'm still thinking about writing this story, but Ruby's name would be changed because at this point, this iteration of her character is VERY different from present day. She's two different characters at this point 💀 that's how you know I've had her for SO long because she looks so different from her original drawings.

The latest version of Ruby ended up in a story with completely different characters in the cast and a completely different setting (even if some of the characters were inspired by their og versions). It's called "The Clocktower's Chime"

It's very much inspired by those reincarnation manhwas. I like those stories but they all have the same plot over and over, and while I was more interested in the versions where the character is sent back in time to live their life again but with all the knowledge they had in the future, I always struggled with the aspect that the characters' mental age is far older than they are. It makes the dynamics a little weird, but they can be excused unless it's a romantic dynamic, I would think? I dunno, it was hard to get into the plots mostly because of that.

So I used Ruby as a placeholder OC and came up with a story where upon their death in the future, someone casts a spell or a god sends them back, and instead of having a mental older age, they get a journal with all of the details of their future. Ruby woke up one day and found a journal written by herself that detailed everything about her future up to the point of her death. It was more like a book, however, rather than a journal. It just looked like a journal because it was in her handwriting.

So Ruby gets this book, doesn't believe it at all, until she notices that there are way too many "coincidences" lining up with the events of the book. She starts believing it could be true, and then decides it must be when she finds out that a prominent family in the country she lives in is going to visit her hometown. In the book, they were there because they learned that Ruby was their daughter that had been kidnapped as a baby and believed dead. However, in the book, Ruby had spent her entire life living as a weapon instead of a daughter, and she died by their hands when she refused to kill a woman that is prophesized to end a war that would devastate both countries.

Ruby is, like, 12 at that point. So her kid brain is like "obviously I run away and go to school in a different country and tell everyone I have a different name and there's no way this could go wrong." Except before she can even do that, she runs into Julias Parlia, a Duke's son from the country that is supposed to be her enemy in the future. Ruby is like "shit this is THE worst adult to run into and I haven't even gotten to the running away part of my plan" and Julias ends up being the reason she doesn't even get to the train station. He's fucking hilarious by the way. He's got a well adjusted family with two loving parents and a bunch of little siblings and he basically picks Ruby up by the scruff of her neck and is like "I want this one she's insane."

This is Julias (kneeling on the ground to talk to Ruby) and Emelie (Julias' knight and childhood friend, she's so silly)

and this is the part where I share art from many months ago... when I posted my most recent art and said Ruby keeps getting buffer every time I draw her, I meant it 💀

Ruby and her love interest, Cecelia

This is Vekenti, a character that was also supposed to be a "villain" in the original timeline. Ruby goes looking for him to prevent his death as well, and Julias obviously is like "Omg another weird kid, how delightful!" Everyone thinks Vikenti and Ruby are related, but they are not. They're just raised as siblings in both timelines and have a lot of the same mannerisms

Julias' love interest (unnamed? I can't find her name anywhere) and him

REALLLY old drawings of what they looked like in the OG timeline (I desperately need to redesign these because I could do better now)

Julias and Ruby again

and that's all the art I have for this one (besides the other post of Ruby I posted today, this is the story that that version of Ruby belongs in. She's looks very different now!).

All of this has been in the back of my mind for a while, and I've been trying to figure out which story I would want to write first. Middle school Erin would love for me to finally write Behind the Blue Glass, but sometimes I find myself wanting to write a fantasy story like Clocktower's Chime a lot more

[stinglesswasp]

Hi! First of all, I think your art is gorgeous and honestly whatever words I put here, they will never be able to do your art justice. I love your visual storytelling! Now for the actual ask part. How could one start learning how to draw? I have a STEM background and I have wrestled many times before with the idea of trying to pick up drawing and every time I see content creators, such as you, posting their works, it makes me even more motivated to get some scenarios out of my head and place them on paper. Right now I do it in writing but I would love to do something graphic about it too. Problem is, it can feel overwhelming to start as there are so many resources and stuff and it can feel like a daunting task. So, how did you start drawing?

Thank you so much and I hope you will always keep your passion for this craft alive and well. Be it CoD or anything else.

Hi, thank you for your kind words! I've been drawing since I was a wee baby wasp, but anyone can start at anytime. You're absolutely right that it can feel overwhelming, but I love that you're motivated! That's honestly half the battle. I can give some general advice:

Start small, like really small… I know it's tempting to immediately jump into drawing your favourite blorbos smooching (yes, this is the entire point of being an artist) but it's like exercise, you need to build muscle bit by bit before you can attempt any ambitious goals. Draw very basic shapes like circles, squares, triangles, followed by spheres, cylinders, prisms. Try to rotate/stretch/skew/slice them in your mind's eye and draw the result. Draw some simple objects around you. You'll find that all objects, including complex organic forms, can be broken down into basic shapes. Here's an example of the types of exercises you can try: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6F5q_5HC3o

There are beginner's tutorials on every aspect of drawing, I'd recommend spending a chunk of time in each area, learning fundamentals like perspective, proportions, and lighting. There are easy rules that you can follow that will make your art look 'correct' and not 'wonky' which might happen if you try to wing it without really understanding what you're doing. This video (though more advanced) has tons of useful advice and a fantastic guideline to follow: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6T_-DiAzYBc (in fact I think this is one of the best art 'tutorials' ever 🤯)

Be patient with yourself!! Your brain literally needs time to grow new neurons because you're learning a new skill. It can be frustrating to be unable to draw what you're imagining, but go easy and build up a strong foundation first. The more solid this is, the more satisfied you'll be when you finally tackle the stuff you actually want to make.

I hope this was helpful! Just practice a lot, have fun, and be proud of your progress 🧡 (also, sit with good posture, stay hydrated and take regular breaks <3)

[painted-bees]

Since I've been rotating Raf's mental illness in my mind this month as a way of smoothing my own brain, I've been thinking a lot about the ways his PPD and CPTSD symptoms interact, and how it affects his behaviors.

Firstly, Raf's paranoia isn't commonly accompanied by narcissistic traits. That is to say--he's not especially prone to believing that people have him on their mind all the time. If he walks past two people laughing, it's not his gut instinct to think that they are laughing at him. However, it is certainly his gut instinct to assume that they are laughing at someone.

But, unless they deliberately pause to regard him in an off putting way, his brain isn't gonna jump to the conclusion that he's the topic of their little chortle.

In fact, Raf rarely feels like he is being deliberately belittled by honest remarks when they are simply worded poorly. In some ways, he greatly prefers being called a jackass, to his face, in flat tones--than to receiving sweet, placating platitudes in a kindly tone. No matter how genuine the kindness may be behind the latter, Raf generally tends to interpret it...poorly. It gives him a really bad gut feeling, like they're buttering him up, mincing their words in a shallow attempt to gain his good opinion...all so that he won't suspect them later. Suspect them of what? Who knows. Something bad, something exploitative, something abusive. To him.

Raf doesn't suspect that everyone is out to use or exploit him. He fully believes that most people are capable of not thinking about him at all--even if he is physically present around them, such as in a busy train station. However, he does suspect that everyone who goes out of their way to interact with him, and especially everyone who wants to get to know him only do so in order to use or exploit him. And his basal understanding of human behavior is, generally, that kindness and good manner are most frequently used as tools of manipulation for personal gain rather than as an expression of genuine love and care. And he recognizes that this is only possible as a successful tool of manipulation because, just like him, everyone else wants to be genuinely loved and cared for.

Even his uncle, whom Raf does genuinely loves and trust, is suspected of being as kind and accommodating as he is to Raf only because doing so soothes his uncle's guilt and gives him a moral leg up over the rest of Raf's family. And part of Raf's initial willingness to trust his uncle is that his uncle never really...denies that this is, at the very least, a part of it. And--if that's all Uncle Bill really wanted outta Raf, then that was a perfectly livable arrangement.

Raf's CPTSD, on the other hand, generates the shame that serves as the crux for a lot of his self-critical introspection. Even before his diagnosis, he was harboring a sense that something was really, deeply wrong with him--like he wasn't a real person. And so, it felt radically audacious to assert that he deserved to behave as a real person; which included the right to feel and act upon anger and sadness--and to have those emotions received and treated with any level of respect by those around him. Until his final year at Juilliard, he was kind of in a placid(listless) state of learned helplessness. He'd do what ever he had to do to meet the expectations of his peers and instructors (namely, amphetamines. So much amphetamines.) It was just baaarely enough to get him his degree, and it ran him ragged and beyond resentful. He fully left Juilliard with the mindset of "I'm entering my villain era, I'm fully committed to being a Bad Guy, I am ok with everyone hating me now". And the "bad guy" behavior was just...saying no to stuff he didn't want to do, self-isolating, and outwardly expressing/lashing out when something viscerally upset him.

Which...thanks to the personality disorder, meant he became prone to yelling at people and accusing them of hurting or betraying him when they, in fact, did not. Especially...almost specifically the people closest to him, who cared the most about him and whom he cared the most for. And that's quickly what lead to his diagnosis, which kinda put an end to his 'villain arch'. So now he's back to reckoning with that sense of "something is really, deeply wrong with me", but at least now he has a growing understanding of what that is. And also the notion of "I have the 'bad person' disease--I am a Bad Person if I act on my core suspicions and beliefs, I cannot fucking trust myself, I can't trust my own perception of people or events." And now he's gotta balance that with whole "I deserve to feel safe, comfortable, and respected" alongside the critical notion of "but so does everyone else".

He hates it when people try to get to know him, he is fundamentally mistrustful of people. But at the same time, he has a lot of difficulty balancing his boundaries against the infringement of other people's boundaries--and the root understanding of "Something is wrong with me, I'm the problem, the fact that I think other people are the problem--is part of the problem that is me." is what motivates him to delay acting upon his negative impulses as much as is is able to, and to exercise kindness even when it feels like he's walking directly into a fire.

So, his overall kinda...thing is "I don't trust any of these guys, they clearly want something from me, and if I let them get close enough, they won't care if they have to hurt me to get it[PPD] but I'm a fundamentally busted person with a fucked up perspective and thus it is actually safer if I prioritize their comfort over my own[CPTSD] within certain parameters[therapy]"

and, idk...the big flashing red "ISOLATE, ISOLATE, ISOLATE" sign shows up in there on a frequent enough occasion that he just...has no real friends, despite a billion "good" acquaintances.

Despite all his mistrust and suspicions, the feelings of being fundamentally unlovable for willfully/protectively limiting the range of his 'usefulness', his terminally pessimistic outlook on the nature of human beings--he craves so tremendously to be loved and cared for and held and reassured in such a way and to such an extent that could never be fully sated, I am sure. But he couldn't stand to receive it from someone he can't believe in.

Margie accidentally hack speedran his CPTSD coping mechanisms so hard that she clipped through his paranoia until the collision error launched her into Trusted Person status. And he's just mostly confused and a bit anxious over how it all happened so fast.

[that's a joke...kinda]

[atwas-gaming]

People who complain that Sonic's character is "static" must have never played Unleashed or Black Knight. Or they did, but they didn't understand them.

I think one of the reasons why Unleashed and Black Knight are such fan favorites and stick in our memory so well is because the entire theme of both games is about taking Sonic out of his element, taking away things that he has relied on for so long- speed, jumping, spindashing, boosting, homing attacks- taking all those things away from him, and seeing how he does.

And he still shines. Even without all the abilities that he has relied on throughout his entire life, he still manages to beat the Big Bad.

(Please note that I haven't finished either game yet and I'm just drawing from what I've been spoiled on.)

As the werehog, Sonic is not able to curl into a ball at all (we're ignoring the mobile games for this post), and his greater height and weight, probably due to a larger bone structure, as well as heavier, thicker fur, keeps him from being able to run as fast or jump as high as he's used to. He now how to resort to fighting styles he has never used before, including several forms of martial arts (aided by his Dark Gaia-powered stretch abilities). Perhaps the most unusual of all is how he has to get down on all fours to run.

In addition, Sonic describes his werehog form as "pretty ugly." Sonic thinks of himself as good-looking, and this is a part of his personal identity, which is part of why he was upset that Amy didn't recognize him (no matter what feelings he may or may not have for her). The werehog form also seems to be physically uncomfortable and taxing on Sonic's body due to the heavier weight, as the werehog idle animations include Sonic stretching in an exaggerated way and forcibly rotating his shoulders (motions I, myself, have learned to use after years at a desk job that has ruined my neck and upper back). Sonic's idle animations also include him being jumpy and looking around every few seconds- basically, the werehog never fully relaxes.

All in all, Sonic is very uncomfortable as a werehog, and prefers not to be seen in this form. But the reason why is not fully evident until he thanks Chip for protecting him and keeping him from turning evil. To this, Chip replies, "I haven't done anything, Sonic. You're too strong to lose yourself."

On top of this, Amy doesn't have a problem with Sonic's appearance. She still loves him. Tails also doesn't care what Sonic looks like. Neither does Professor Pickle. Neither does ANYONE. Even if they're startled by the werehog's appearance at first, they all seem to go, "Oh, it's just Sonic. This is just what he's like at night."

The entire story of Unleashed was about Sonic coming to realize that he is not who he is because of what he looks like or how he is built.

Black Knight takes this a step further. In Unleashed, Sonic wasn't able to run, but he was still able to use his body as a weapon. In Black Knight, Sonic can run again, but nowhere near as fast as his normal speed. All of Sonic's abilities to fight with his body are stripped from him, and he is forced to use an actual weapon, instead. And Sonic hates this. He even says it: "I wish I didn't have to use this dang sword!"

Sonic has never used a weapon before in the games (as far as I am aware, anyway). His weapon has always been his own body: his feet, his fists, his whole body via spindash and homing attack. Now he's having to train himself to fight with something outside of his own body. This requires not only the creation of new muscle memory, but also a complete shift in the way his brain processes information to fight. He always has the option to just crumble and say, "I can't do this, it's not what I'm used to, I give up." He never does that. He complains a bit at first, but eventually rises to the occasion and excels at swordfighting.

Please bear in mind that I haven't ever gotten past the King Arthur battle. I presume Sonic is forced to kill him, and then I believe there's another half a game after that. But so far, it seems that Sonic's character arc in Black Knight is about him learning that he is not who he is just because of what he can do.

What makes Sonic Sonic is not what he looks like or what he is able to do, but about who he is inside. Sonic is someone who cares, someone who is strong, someone who doesn't give up, someone who sees a difficult situation and, no matter how much of an inconvenience it may be, turns it around and finds a way through.

[moralesmilesanhour]

okay okay, i have had this one thought in my head about a platonic gender-neutral (or male/masc-leaning) reader fic. this is for either miles (more so 42 than 1610 bc i can imagine his face of exasperation). imagine just being his dumbass friend, like yeah your smart enough to be in visions, but goddamn!! you leave your braincells in your school locker once the final bell rings. your self preservation instincts are questionable at best and the only reason you're not dead yet bc you're proving that quote "you can't kill stupid" as a true fact. at least you bring homemade food over everytime you visit his home and his mom likes you, so you're not completely hopeless in life. (i've had this rotating in my brain for days and still haven't written it myself) -☁

a/n: I went the masc route with this one with a sprinkle of gender envy if u squint

You thought doing homework on a rooftop would be a nice change of scenery.

Dangling off of the rooftop? Not so much.

A tiny group of pigeons had been hanging out near the edge, and you had the idea to try and feed them with the bag of sunflower seeds you'd brought with you. Carefully, you step forward toward the flock, until some unknown force of nature causes you to trip over your own feet and sends you careening over the edge.

Somehow, you manage to grab hold of the railing of the fire escape just below, but your palms are sweaty. You heave as you use all of your upper body strength to hold yourself up while desperately trying not to look down.

It's not enough.

Just as you lose your grip, a strong arm catches you. It's covered in purple leather, ending in a familiar clawed hand.

"Again?" Asks an amused modulated voice as wind rushes past your ears.

"You make it sound like a daily occurrence."

You feel a jolt as the masked figure swings and lands in front of an alleyway before putting you down. As you adjust your crooked glasses, the mask whirs and splits in two before receding, revealing the smirking, deep brown face of your friend, Miles.

"What happened this time?"

His voice is low and nearly too soft to hear, a stark contrast to the tinny high pitch of your own. No amount of lowering your larynx or whispering could ever get it like that. Part of you wishes you could steal it sometimes, or borrow his voice modulator, at least.

If only.

"Tripped," you answer, rubbing your upper arm as a side effect of the claws' tight grip. "Dunno how you always manage to catch me."

"Easy," Miles explains as he unzips his black duffel bag. "I see that ratty ass gray hoodie you always got on and swing right over."

With a whir and a clank, he removes the claw on his right hand, then his left, tossing them into the bag.

"How does carryin' those around like that not damage them?" you blurt out suddenly. Miles snorts.

"You gonna fix 'em for me, genius?"

"No."

"Thought so."

Finally, he removed the grappling hook strapped to his back and tied his jacket around his waist.

You say his catchphrase before he does: "Let's bounce!"

This earns you a burst of laughter from Miles as you make your way out of the alley.

"What, I say it wrong?"

"No, it's just..." he catches his breath and claps you on the shoulder as he passes by. "You make it sound so friendly."

"Whatever, man."

-

"Yo, pay attention, dude!"

You feel Miles' hand yank you backwards by your hoodie as a car horn blares past you. Once you look up from your phone, your eyes widen.

"Oh, shit."

The car had barely missed you.

The streetlight across from you finally turned white, and the two of you crossed. Miles keeps glancing back at you until the short journey to the opposite sidewalk is completed.

He stops, crossing his arms. "How many times are you gonna almost-die today? Lemme know so I can adjust my schedule."

"Until someone finally finishes the job," you joke before remembering something. "Ah fuck, I hope the brownies survived."

You swing your book bag off of your shoulder and kneel to open it, revealing a small Tupperware container filled with home-made brownies stacked on top of your textbooks. Thankfully, there is only a bit of chocolate smudged on the sides; the pastries themselves remain (mostly) intact.

Miles raised an eyebrow. "You know taking the textbooks home is optional, right?"

Zipping your bag closed, you reply with a shrug,"I like re-writing my notes. I need to access the source material."

"I need to access the source material," Miles mimics you in a nasally voice before strolling past you. "If I were a worse person, I'd shove yo' ass in a locker."

You laugh, breaking into a jog to catch up to him with your 'source material' weighing you down.

"Just for that, I'm telling your mom the brownies are just for her-shit!"

A piece of cracked and lifted cement trips you up and scuffs your sneakers. Your hands shoot out to break your fall, planting themselves onto the ground. Your glasses aren't so lucky.

"Aw, man, I just got these!" You frowned as you dusted off your khaki shorts with one hand, holding your glasses in the other.

One of the frames now has a crack right down the middle.

"That's tough, buddy," Miles remarks.

He had spun around as soon as he heard you yell in case of another near-death experience, but was now trying desperately to hold back laughter that escaped through his nose as he walked backwards towards his destination.

"It's not funny!"

"It's a little funny. You're like a Looney Tunes character."

You laugh, "If an anvil falls on my head, it's your fault."