arce-is-lost

[arce-is-lost]

If you don't love him at his

Then you don't deserve him at his

[arce-is-lost]

party on you party on you party on you

But, you’re drunk and poisonously in love, and more than a little vulnerable. Here, in this club, your armor of pulsing lights and vibrating music feels weaker. More flimsy. A pathetic excuse of a self defense system, just as you are a pathetic excuse of a person.

A tear falls; then another. Again and again, they slip down your cheeks, mixing with too-dark mascara and too-bright glitter until your face is an impressionist’s painting of cheap imbibery; of the perils of falling in love with someone who cannot and will not love you back.

Sanemi watches you across the dance floor. He always watches, but he never moves. Just stares, eyes dark and mouth set in a too-grim frown. Like he sees right through the kaleidoscope of pinks and purples and blues dancing across your face, through the smeared makeup and the artfully messy hair, right to the pit in your chest where your shriveled heart still pumps a weak beat meant to match his.

And it bothers him.

Good. He’s bothered you your whole life and you have nothing to show for it. Let him have a taste.

Besides, why should he be bothered? You sink back into the crush of bodies, letting your mascara-glitter tears dry on your cheeks until the mask is reforged. He must know this is all for him. All because of him.

The party. The lights. The dancing. The music. This new version of you that isn’t supposed to be his even though your heart still is.

Are we gonna talk about it? He’d asked at the bar, before you’d skillfully dodged the question.

No, Sanemi, you think again, head swaying to the beat of the song now humming in your veins. A blinding white light breaks up the rainbow of colors splicing through the hazy club air, and for a moment, you’re back at an airport on a hot summer’s day, tears running down your face and your heart torn in two. And you’re the one who didn’t want to talk.

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I just wanted to say that, whether or not you;

write fanfiction, make fandom content, create art, are making something your followers want and/or something totally secret, are working on something very sparingly, are working on something very often...

You’re allowed to exist and have fun online.

Everyone has a life, so everyone should understand that there are jobs, family, homes, and other recreational activities people are occupied with. Even if you have the time, that doesn’t mean you are obligated to do something specific just because people ask you to. Shit is not good when you’re forced to do it; I really thought people knew that.

Personally, something I do that I recommend to anons asking for updates in writers’ inboxes, is Wait. Reread the fic whenever you want. Share some theories/things you like/things you think about when you read in the comments or to the author - in a respectful way. And literally forget about any sort of update schedule or anticipation for when the next part will come.

I promise your life will be happier when your favorite fics update and you’re like, “Oh shit! This is an amazing surprise!”

So, yeah, hey Peach, I think you’re doing great, and I hope you’re feeling that way.

THIS. No notes. This is everything. Thank you!

[arce-is-lost]

something I think demon slayer does incredibly well is how it shows female rage.

across manga/anime, a woman’s rage is often exaggerated or made to be a joke. Demon Slayer, however, does a great job of not just letting its female characters be angry, but lets them be angry in a way that’s both justified and also, terrifying — but not in an over-the-top way.

Take Nezuko, for example. During the entertainment district arc, we see her lose control with Daki. A cut away scene to Tanjiro reveals that his younger brother is subconsciously warning him to get up, because Nezuko is angry, and historically, quite scary when she is mad. Cut back to Nezuko, and we see her disrespecting the fuck out of Daki — and smiling. Nezuko takes joy in hurting Daki because she’s so enraged by her. While it’s easy to chalk up Nezuko’s frenzy to her demon state, her own brother’s narration makes clear that her anger is a very human part of her. It takes a lot to push Nezuko to that point, but once she’s there, it’s difficult to calm her down, and there’s risk in letting her give into her rage — regardless of whether or not she’s a demon.

Then, there’s Shinobu. I think the depth of Shinobu’s rage is communicated much earlier than Tanjiro’s observation at the Butterfly Mansion. During the Mount Natagumo arc, we see Shinobu offer the sister spider demon forgiveness — on the condition that she allow Shinobu to enact long, sustained acts of torture against her under the guise of “penance.” Shinobu almost relishes telling her every step she might take to make the spider demon atone for her sins, and the spider demon (correctly) susses out her true intentions.

Then, there’s the matter of her run-in with Tanjiro and Nezuko for the first time. Upon learning that Nezuko is Tanjiro’s sister, Shinobu very sweetly (but threateningly) proposes using a “gentle” poison to kill her. Meaning, Shinobu not only doesn’t use gentle poisons often, but she likely purposefully uses ones that will inflict the maximum amount of suffering and pain to her targets (and we see the sister spider demon die pretty horrifically under that very circumstance). That choice is deliberate and very much rooted in Shinobu’s deep rage and anger, even if her expression of it is more subtle.

Anger is a complex emotion that drives people to do and act outside of their normal selves. Prolonged exposure to anger can and does make even the most careful person, reckless. As applied to women/female characters, however, anger is the slapstick and too often, unjustified in proportion to the thing they’re supposedly angry with. I think Demon Slayer does a very good job of showing women internalize their rage but turn it outward when pushed — and it’s a damn effective way of communicating a great deal about the character’s personality when it does.

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working on something that’s making me dizzy

“I’m takin’ you outta here.” He pants into the crook of your neck hours later, sweaty and spent, but still not sated. He can’t be, not when he has nearly four months to account for. “First thing come sun up. You and I are leaving.”

Your fingers card lovingly through his hair, the paths they trek making his eyes droop. “Just like that?”

Sanemi nods against your dampened skin. “Just like that. You’re carryin’ my baby now. That makes you mine.”

His hand slides possessively down your torso to rest right over the curve of your stomach. “Makes you both mine. Don’t care what the old hag has to say; you’ll be my bride before sunset.”

“An honest man,” you hum, gasping as Sanemi’s mouth begins making its way down your body with practiced ease. “And just as honorable.”

He snorts and settles between your thighs, his lips dancing closer and closer to your dripping sex. “Dunno about honest. Your half-sisters have children by multiple men. I’m makin’ sure you can only have mine.”

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what if I just ended it all?

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Pastor: when going through times of trouble, do you blame god?

Me:

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Deeeeeeeeepppllly flawed.

same.

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Deeeeeeeeepppllly flawed.

same.

[arce-is-lost]

SCALED — the teaser

Sailor!Sanemi x Mermaid!Reader • 18+

A/N: it’s Sanemi’s turn to be the monsterfucker, y’all.

CW: the tiniest bit suggestive but be warned: this story will be hella NSFW. MDNI. Sanemi gets a taste of mermussy later

There, amidst the cragged adamant, is a flash of blue. Not the blue of the ocean, with its subtle greens that shift in and out of the sun’s punishing rays. It was the blue of jewels; of precious sapphires and tourmalines like those he’d seen hanging from ropes of silver the nobles wore around their necks. Indigo, too, like the watery trail left behind by the moon when it hung fat and silver in the night sky.

The very precise shade of blue Douma had described.

Sanemi squints harder as the blue shifts and sways atop the rocks. The sun glitters off the whorls of color, blending them together just as much as it pulls them apart. A sudden wave knocks harshly up the side of the ship, spraying his face with sea water. When he finishes wiping the salt from his eyes, the ship has moved a little closer into shore, and Sanemi can finally make out the source of the blue.

A woman. No, he shakes his head as he wipes the back of his hand again across his eyes. Not a woman — not fully. True, she bears all the upper attributes of a woman: two arms, pretty hands, and human breasts bared toward the sun. Her face too, is human, even if her beauty is otherworldly. But, as Sanemi tracks his eyes down the length of her form, he sees that her humanity stops right below her navel. Where her hips should give way to two legs — and the paradise he knows, as a man, must lie between them — there are only scales. Rich, cobalt scales, untinteruppted as they stretch down down down the side of the rock.

Drifting lazily in the surf is the tip of her great tail.

A mermaid.

Sanemi’s jaw slackens. A swear creeps up his throat, but it dies on his tongue, now too dry, too swollen to force it out.

A charter could undertake a thousand different expeditions to seek out a mermaid only to return empty handed — if it returned at all. Yet, here he was, stranded on a ship that managed to come across one on her maiden voyage. Even if Sanemi had been a betting man, this is the sort of odd he’d never have the stones to wager. Not if his life depended on it.

He thinks he should count his lucky stars he doesn’t have such vices. Otherwise, he would’ve been deprived of this — of her and her enchanting beauty — if he had.

Silently, he watches the mermaid in awe until the ship has nearly passed the rock upon which she suns.

Her eyes flash to his.

Sanemi dares not blink; neither does she. Even the call seagulls fades beneath the gentle crash of the waves lapping against the ship’s hull.

A mermaid is the price to gain back what we lost, boy. Douma had boasted with his too sharp smile and too sharp teeth. Perhaps you’ll win your freedom by helping us gain ours.

He thinks of his mother; of his sisters and their frightened faces and rigid shoulders as Douma’s men leered and taunted them; of the gash his brother now bears across his cheek.

He thinks of the beautiful creature watching him warily from her sanctuary among the lodestone, her tail dragging slowly through the water.

Fuck ‘em. He won’t say a damn word.

“Boy!”

On reflex, Sanemi whips around. Scanning the deck, he finds the irritated mug of Kyogai, snarling and sneering at him from the quarter deck. A quick glance overboard and Sanemi holds up two fingers; two meters between the rocks and the ship’s starboard side.

Kyogai scoffs and turns away. The rest of the crew ignore him, too busy throwing rope and drawing in the sails as they prepare to anchor. For a long moment he remains frozen, feet cemented to the forecastle with no memory of how to move. Only when he feels the familiar shudder shake below the keel is he able to move his tight limbs.

He does not hear the faint splash of water over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

Breathe, idiot. He commands himself. In, one, two, three through his nose; let the salt ignite his blood, creep up the back of his tongue, before he lets it out in the same count. Repeat. Repeat again, until his errant pulse calms. Then he will look.

When Sanemi finally turns back, the mermaid is gone.

[arce-is-lost]

<- Sanemi simp posts masterlist

I imagine that the way your relationship with Sanemi would take the next step is literally him being like.

“Yeah, well. We’re dating now. Deal with it.”

While blushing furiously and failing to maintain his tough guy exterior. He’d huff at your goofy grin, bright and sparkling eyes, responding with a halfhearted eye roll.

“Now hold my fucking hand before I change my mind, I-Idiot.”

He wouldn’t change his mind, never - not in a million year. And after stuttering out an ‘idiot’ he’d follow up with a shy whisper:

“My idiot…I love you, y’know?”

Sanemi would then hold your hand firmly, making sure nothing can come between you.

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more mermaid au before I start baking for the day

He breaks the kiss but he remains close enough that his lashes tickle at your cheeks. That curious flutter in your lower stomach intensifies the longer Sanemi’s hand remains on the inside of your knee.

As though he’s waiting for something; a word, perhaps.

You swallow. “My legs are shaking.”

Not the way they were only moments before, aching from exhaustion after a full day of walking and sitting and stumbling. Now, you’re certain the trembling in your legs is connected to the skittering of your heart, and how your breath hitches in your throat.

Sanemi’s eyes turn black as his fingers slide up your inner thigh. “I know.”

So certain. So assured in that cocky manner that is so uniquely his, and yet, when he kisses you again, it is with greater urgency; desperation. It steals the very breath from your lungs, and even the flattened marks of your gills on either side of your neck tingle in response.

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Same girl, same. Like damn, boy! He cute as hell, definitely kissable 😩

i love him so much yall don't understand i'm NOT normal about him at all

pls let me hug him nintendo its not that hard

i let me kiss him pls pls pls

also i hate that everyone is like "yeah every link is so emotionless" because NO. he is so expressive in every game what are you talking about.

like i genuinely need him in a way that concerns feminism /j

WHAT who said that??

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AI is ruining me

I'm constantly surrounded by AI generated art images. I see it in public, social media, from my own family, worst of all I have non-artist friends who use and have Patreons making good profit off creating AI generated images.

As someone who is an artist, I have been feeling devastated for months as AI continues to become more normalized. I have worked very hard, dedicating my life to learning this craft. I feel my skills are essentially useless now. I have lost my chance at obtaining a career within the industry. Art is so easily accessible, anyone can generate anything now.

The vast majority of people don't care about artists, they care about the end product. I can't compete with something that generates faster, higher quality images by the dozen in a matter of seconds. People argue that AI makes mistakes, and can't generate anything of good quality. This issue tends to be the user who is unexperienced that generated something using poor settings, not the AI itself. AI can generate images without errors, and can be trained to work well and look good. I don't think artists realize how much it has improved, because they tend to look away, or are not exposed to it as much as I am within my circle. I know it lacks humanity, but people and corporations don't care. My family and friends don't care. People are becoming popular and getting tons of recognition, and money simply by generating AI images. No one cares.

I am losing my sanity, I don't know what to do. I miss the times of admiring art, knowing it was human made and someone worked hard. I struggle to find the motivation to finish my own works, knowing it could just be generated in seconds with AI, and a good majority of people wouldn't care, or be able to tell the difference. I don't understand why robots are creating art instead of doing our labor work. I thought art was one of the last parts of humanity we had left.

I don't know how my future will be, but I am so tired of trying. I have not used any AI in my work, and I want to remain honest and true to myself and the art community. I know I've set myself up for failure by refusing to accept this new tool into my process. So I will be left behind.

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Dude, this looks so good 😩

🍉 shinazugawa brothers animation 🍃

dont stare too long bc then it looks a little silly

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How they confess (Hashira)

All Hashira included

no warnings

~~~~ Tell you straight up: Muichiro, Tengen, Rengoku- They are just the types to say it to your face, they don’t think they have to plan anything extravagant or get you gifts. They’re very confident/ blunt about it. If they like you, they like you.

Won’t admit it: Shinobu, Giyuu, Sanemi, Gyomei- You would be able to tell they act differently around you, such as being nervous and flustered. However, they think they have no time for a relationship due to being a Hashira, so they won’t tell you they like you, even though you can tell.

Use gifts to win you over: Mitsuri, Obanai- They’re both very nervous, so they use gifts/food to win you over. They either don’t know how to show you they like you, or they don’t know how to tell you, so gift giving is a lot easier. You start to pick up on the signals and realize they like you.

~~~~ sorry this is rushed and bad, but it’s a filler for now!

[arce-is-lost]

some men are poets. others…