#So now that you understand what this tool is

[yukipri]

Some thoughts on Cara

So some of you may have heard about Cara, the new platform that a lot of artists are trying out. It's been around for a while, but there's been a recent huge surge of new users, myself among them. Thought I'd type up a lil thing on my initial thoughts.

First, what is Cara?

From their About Cara page:

Cara is a social media and portfolio platform for artists. With the widespread use of generative AI, we decided to build a place that filters out generative AI images so that people who want to find authentic creatives and artwork can do so easily. Many platforms currently accept AI art when it’s not ethical, while others have promised “no AI forever” policies without consideration for the scenario where adoption of such technologies may happen at the workplace in the coming years. The future of creative industries requires nuanced understanding and support to help artists and companies connect and work together. We want to bridge the gap and build a platform that we would enjoy using as creatives ourselves. Our stance on AI: ・We do not agree with generative AI tools in their current unethical form, and we won’t host AI-generated portfolios unless the rampant ethical and data privacy issues around datasets are resolved via regulation. ・In the event that legislation is passed to clearly protect artists, we believe that AI-generated content should always be clearly labeled, because the public should always be able to search for human-made art and media easily.

Should note that Cara is independently funded, and is made by a core group of artists and engineers and is even collaborating with the Glaze project. It's very much a platform by artists, for artists!

Should also mention that in being a platform for artists, it's more a gallery first, with social media functionalities on the side. The info below will hopefully explain how that works.

Next, my actual initial thoughts using it, and things that set it apart from other platforms I've used:

1) When you post, you can choose to check the portfolio option, or to NOT check it. This is fantastic because it means I can have just my art organized in my gallery, but I can still post random stuff like photos of my cats and it won't clutter things. You can also just ramble/text post and it won't affect the gallery view!

2) You can adjust your crop preview for your images. Such a simple thing, yet so darn nice.

3) When you check that "Add to portfolio," you get a bunch of additional optional fields: Title, Field/Medium, Project Type, Category Tags, and Software Used. It's nice that you can put all this info into organized fields that don't take up text space.

4) Speaking of text, 5000 character limit is niiiiice. If you want to talk, you can.

5) Two separate feeds, a "For You" algorithmic one, and "Following." The "Following" actually appears to be full chronological timeline of just folks you follow (like Tumblr). Amazing.

6) Now usually, "For You" being set to home/default kinda pisses me off because generally I like curating my own experience, but not here, for this handy reason: if you tap the gear symbol, you can ADJUST your algorithm feed!

So you can choose what you see still!!! AMAZING. And, again, you still have your Following timeline too.

7) To repeat the stuff at the top of this post, its creation and intent as a place by artists, for artists. Hopefully you can also see from the points above that it's been designed with artists in mind.

8) No GenAI images!!!! There's a pop up that says it's not allowed, and apparently there's some sort of detector thing too. Not sure how reliable the latter is, but so far, it's just been a breath of fresh air, being able to scroll and see human art art and art!

To be clear, Cara's not perfect and is currently pretty laggy, and you can get errors while posting (so far, I've had more success on desktop than the mobile app), but that's understandable, given the small team. They'll need time to scale. For me though, it's a fair tradeoff for a platform that actually cares about artists.

Currently it also doesn't allow NSFW, not sure if that'll change given app store rules.

As mentioned above, they're independently funded, which means the team is currently paying for Cara itself. They have a kofi set up for folks who want to chip in, but it's optional. Here's the link to the tweet from one of the founders:

And a reminder that no matter that the platform itself isn't selling our data to GenAI, it can still be scraped by third parties. Protect your work with Glaze and Nightshade!

Anyway, I'm still figuring stuff out and have only been on Cara a few days, but I feel hopeful, and I think they're off to a good start.

I hope this post has been informative!

Lastly, here's my own Cara if you want to come say hi! Not sure at all if I'll be active on there, but if you're an artist like me who is keeping an eye out for hopefully nice communities, check it out!

[outofgloom]

THE TOOLS WE HAVE

He was back. The room spun, and he heard, rather than saw, the worm-like creature slough away and plop into the water of the nearby pool. Then he was very, very sick...

When it was over, he raised himself shakily and checked the interface suspended above him. The six brains glowed faintly, and the six Matoran bodies attached to them remained motionless, as still and unmoving as they had been since the Signal crossed the universe and worked its terrible transformations, however long ago that’d been. There were no more days or years since the sky had been taken apart, so it was hard to keep track.

The various linkages of the interface seemed unphased, which was more than he had expected. He steadied himself against another wave of dizziness. His mind felt…bloated…expanded, worse than normal telepathy. Helryx had mentioned side-effects…the toll of “transtemporal projection”. She was one to know, of course.

Aside from that, everything had gone according to plan. He’d conveyed the information that Helryx had provided, as best he could. The Matoran that he had addressed…the Matoran had been strange—confused at first, but seeming to understand by the end. Afterward, he’d successfully pulled himself back, though the effort had been greater than expected.

Was it enough? How would he know? Even Helryx hadn’t been sure. The fact that he was still here, in this chamber, still in continuity with past thoughts…Did that mean he had failed? Would he even recognize success? The changes might be subtle...

He looked around. The chamber looked no different than before. He placed a hand against the cool stone of the floor and sent out a sonar pulse into the substructure. Mostly intact, no new incursions, although the ominous microtremors were still there, as always.

Unsatisfied, he stood and crossed to the long row of masks embedded in the wall nearby. He removed an Akaku and an Iden and placed them on the faces of two of the inactive Matoran. He tried not to look at them for too long. It still disturbed him to see them this way, even after all this time. His sensitive hearing registered the ever-so-slight shift and rasp of their autonomic breathing.

“Get used to it,” Helryx had told him time and again. “We work with the tools we have. If you succeed, you can have all the stimulating conversations with them that I’m sure you would’ve had otherwise. I never found Ce-Matoran to be particularly good talkers myself…”

Krakua wasn’t sure that he would ever get used to it.

The interface hummed ready. He stooped and positioned himself in the center again, and the six brains glowed in a circle above him like a living Suva. Eyes closed, he exhaled and activated his own Suletu.

Suletu into Iden. Up through the stones of the fortress his consciousness projected, broadened, then coalesced. He was in open air, hovering just above the central column. Into Akaku, he swept the interior rooms briefly from above. All as expected. The many defenses continued to be manned by his forces. No change.

Now he moved his mind-spirit out to the ramparts and brought the telescopic components of the Akaku online. The dense protosteel walls went transparent, and he looked beyond:

Dry oceanbed greeted him, but that was nothing new. He had hoped...but no. In all directions the waste spread from what had once been the shores of the fortress island. His fortress, now. The ocean floor was eaten into numerous holes and channels, all the way to the smoke-filled horizon. The Swarm appeared to be focusing its efforts elsewhere for the time being. He glanced up at the sky, or what once had been sky—now a mixture of jagged gaps and fitful flickering lights. It was a strange, broken thing, and beyond his sky there was another sky. More alien, with a single great light burning down.

He remembered when the Swarm had started to eat the sky, and the stars had gone out one by one. That was when he’d known for sure that the world was over.

He had not felt that way when the first Cataclysm had struck the universe, and they all learned that the Great Spirit had been deposed by a treacherous Makuta named Teridax, nor even when the second Cataclysm followed, and the seers said that the Makuta was contending with the Great Beings themselves.

Even when the Swarms had appeared from every hollow and deep crevasse, and the strange Signal washed across the universe, converting every Matoran it reached into a servant of the Swarm, into a destroyer...he had not yet given up hope. Everyone he had sworn to protect, gone. All but the Ce-Matoran, whose minds were different, and who instead were simply hollowed out by the Signal and left empty. The seers cried that the Great Beings had cursed the universe for the crimes of the Makuta, and had sent their robotic servants to accomplish one last terrible Duty: to eat the world into Nothing.

Even then he had not fully despaired. But the sound of the world being unlidded: a deep, unnatural groaning noise that shook the atmosphere and went down into his innermost ears, into his bones…That had been the moment. There was no going back.

But Helryx had another plan. A backup plan. She always did.

The interface powered down as he reinstalled himself into his own body. He sat motionless, letting the seconds beat by. Nothing outside had changed, as far as he could tell. After all the battle and desperate strategy, all the effort, the sacrifices and pain, all the millennia of preparation…he had hoped that it would be enough, that he would not have to—

The ground shook slightly, enough to ripple the water of the dark pool. Suddenly there was a squat figure in the doorway at the other end of the chamber. Two icy-blue eyes stared at him from beneath a domed faceplate. It was one of his. It chkt'd at him in its ugly way, and he understood it—he had by now become adept at communicating with the creatures via their sound-frequencies.

“INCOMING INCURSION. NORTHERNMOST HEXTANT, BELOW,” it chkt’d.

He’d been the only Toa of Sonics in existence when the second Cataclysm arrived, and that made him uniquely suited to combat the Swarm. He was able to confuse their command-structure, deactivating individual units entirely or even turning them to his own will.

“RETURN TO COMPLEMENT,” he chkt’d in reply. “INTERCEPT AND DIVERT.”

The swarm-unit acknowledged his command and swiveled to go. Another tremor went through the floor as it did so, and for a moment it teetered, off-balance.

“Careful, Mazek—” he began to say involuntarily, but stopped. Helryx’s words drilled into him. They are gone. Their names are gone. He fought back a tide of memories, memories of a Ko-Matoran, a friend…the accursed Signal ringing in their ears—unexpected, too fast for him to neutralize it with his own counter-vibration—of the painful sound of limbs buckling and stretching, of armor fusing here and splitting there, of a voice pleading for help, pleading as the vocal tract deformed and the words distorted, and the eyes elongated into slits, still icy-blue.

Disconnecting it from the rest of the Swarm had been the only mercy he could give. They are gone. Shut it out.

No, he would never get used to it, not even after ten thousand years.

The swarm-unit had left. He sighed, resigned at last to what he must do. He removed the Iden and Akaku from the interface and re-cycled the system, checking the attachments on the Masks of Truth, Translation, and Helryx’s own Mask of Psychometry once again.

Next, he retrieved a stack of tablets from a nearby table. They were covered with writing and calculations: Helryx's logs. He waved to the far wall, and the door of the vault opened with a hiss. The chamber beyond was cold and damp, green-tinged, and filled from top to bottom with hundreds of small tubes.

And in each one there was a worm.

He surveyed the result of their centuries-long hunt through the wreckage of the world. The Order had known for some time that the transtemporal memory encoded in the nascent minds of the creatures could be used to reconnect to moments in the past, but never to change those moments. Not until Helryx’s research, and the creation of the interface.

He consulted the tablets again, tracing along the carefully organized shelves. He would have to select another specimen, target the right moment, and communicate the right message, but which to choose? Helryx had been unsure if a sequence was required, even with all her years of traversing alternate dimensions and spying on different timelines using the last remaining Olmak.

For his first attempt, just minutes ago, he had used the one that Helryx deemed to have the broadest potential: a specimen that had attached itself to a single Matoran prior to either of the cataclysms. The messages he had transmitted were obscure, something about the importance of “lightning” and “six heroes”. That was as much as he could transmit through the link.

It was odd, though. The Matoran had not responded to the name Helryx had listed. It insisted its name was something else, something starting with a “V”. He couldn't recall. Hopefully it wasn't vital. The target had been located in an important place, after all—very close to the Core. Surely it had been the right Po-Matoran...

What next? The logs offered many options. A number of specimens had apparently interacted with the Makuta Teridax himself at one point, but such direct interference seemed unlikely to succeed. Another of the worms had apparently linked itself to an ancient entity called Tren Krom at least forty millennia before the cataclysms. There might be an opportunity there, yes…

He pulled down the canister containing that specific worm and tucked it under his arm, returning to the main chamber. There was another shudder in the ground, and the stasis tubes clinked and jostled as he moved to the interface, preparing to unseal the tube.

Something stirred in the doorway on the far side of the chamber—another of his swarm-units, or one of the lesser couriers he’d peeled off. He chkt'd to dismiss it without looking, too absorbed in his task.

“The Manutri chirps its greeting,” a voice said, “but the icehawk is earless and cannot hear. It dives for the kill. Who is the greater fool?”

Krakua’s eyes snapped upward. It was a Matoran—bent and ill-shaped—standing across the room from him, examining the interface with sharp eyes.

“Who—?”

Another tremor shook the fortress. Harder this time. His forces must have engaged with the latest incursion below ground. The Matoran moved into the room. A Po-Matoran. A familiar mask. Krakua stared. For a split second, he thought he might be hallucinating. His mind still had that bloated feeling. It was possible...

“I take it that, from your perspective, we have only just spoken,” the Matoran said, stepping into the room. “For me, it’s been a little longer, but here I am.”

Krakua finally found his words: “How are you not…not…”

“Not part of the Swarm, like the rest? When the fields of Flameleaf dissolve each season and must be replanted, the hardier Firevine is exposed, for it does not melt. But that’s not really important, is it?”

It was relief that he was feeling. Relief like pain, washing over him. He felt his legs go weak. He hadn’t had a real conversation for such a long time. It was difficult to formulate his thoughts aloud.

“I thought…I thought nothing had changed,” he stammered. “Thought the message didn’t work. I can’t believe it.”

“Well...” The face of the Matoran now grew flat and serious. “You’d better get over that quick. I’ve had time to consider this plan of yours, messy though it is. You’ve at least done most of the legwork, I see.” The Matoran motioned to the open vault.

Krakua nodded slowly, still feeling a little dazed.

“First,” the Matoran continued, “you can put back that worm you’re holding. It’s the wrong one—the markings are off. We’re looking for a specimen from Metru Nui, around the time of the first Cataclysm. You have this, yes?”

“Metru Nui…” Krakua set the tube down and focused his attention, sorting through the tablets he still held. “Yes, here. I dredged the specimen from the ruins of the city outskirts, but Helryx classified it as ‘minimal impact’.”

“Did she? How disappointing. No matter. There is a Toa in the city who will need some special...encouragement, I think. And then…then we’ll see what happens.”

“Encouragement? There’s nothing about that in the notes…I wouldn’t even know where to start...”

“Encouragement was never her strong suit, I suppose. Well, I'm sure your mentor did her best, but this may have been a little beyond her expertise. Where is she, by the way? I thought she would be here.”

Krakua blinked. “She…The last time…she never came back.”

“Encouraging.”

“She was probably just delayed. Time runs differently on other planes. Or maybe—”

“Or maybe not.” The Matoran shrugged dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll work with the tools we have...”

The tools we have. Krakua’s gaze wandered to the interface as the Matoran spoke. The masks stared back at him. The eyes were open, glowing but empty.

“...And we’ll have to get a bit more creative with our messages,” the Matoran was saying. “We can do better than...whatever it was you relayed to me back then.”

The floor trembled again, just a little. By the feel of it, he could tell that his forces had been successful in deflecting the incursion. His tools...They'd report in soon.

They are gone. Their names are gone. But if you succeed...

Krakua shook himself. The Matoran was looking at him expectantly. “Well, uh...the messages have to be simple,” he said. “Otherwise the disturbance is too great, and the timeline splits.”

“Of course. Basic causality.”

“And they have to be cryptic as well—not too easy for the target to comprehend immediately, but still decipherable at the right moment.”

“You don’t say.”

“That’s the hardest part, really. Helryx hated it, and I was never any good at riddles...”

Velika smiled.

[intheholler]

grew up dirt poor in appalachian ohio. my dad went to work at a fancy bigshot company one day, and suddenly i was hearin about how appalachian folks are stupid and that we'd have to get out of there whenever possible. when i was 18, we finally did move, but she hasn't left me. i miss going down to the creek and seeing the amish kids standing in knee high water, catchin fish with their hands. i miss going outside and hearing johnny paycheck and hank williams playing in the distant woods. it breaks my heart to know my pa probably thought how he did because a cityboy coworker must've made fun of him or somethin.

now i go to a school, FAR from appalachia. they made fun of the twang in my voice, so you know what i did? i made it worse. i made my accent pluckier than a banjo string and i brag about my culture as if it's something so complex that they'd never understand it. if someone insinuates that i'm stupid for saying "down yonder" or "si gogglin," i'll flip it on them. how do you change a tire? name at least 5 tools that mechanics use. describe me the anatomy of a sink. what's the difference between a nut and a screw?

i'm way better at hands on stuff, just because i unapologetically embraced my culture. the twang in my voice feels more natural than the accent i put on to hide myself back then. my mind is more sound when i let my home flow through me, no matter what people think of it

.

[indie-ttrpg-of-the-week]

Have you heard of Cloud Breakers? It's a Fantasy Post-apocalyptic RPG. And no, it's not a "after the bomb" type deal where it somehow created magic or ood tech became seen as magic etc. It's a genuine fantasy setting with a magical apocalypse that the survivors are trying to rebuild from.

The event was called the Cloud Fall. Thick Clouds covered almost the entire planet, and they empowered and created monsters of all sorts. And if one got lost in the clouds for too long, they could turn into a monster too. Pockets without Clouds became havens for survivors to try and rebuild civilizations. Under such intense pressure for so long the survivors developed new, experimental, and sometimes extreme ideas and measures to survive.

Now, over a thousand years later, things have changed. It's possible, though quite dangerous, to cut back sections of the cloud cover. Those who do so are Cloud Breakers. An alliance built from four surviving civilizations, the Cloud Breaker Alliance faces many struggles. One of the chief ones being that they aren't fully backed by any of the four governments and, with only a century since the contact was even possible, trust and cultural understanding is relatively new between the nation's.

Still, the Alliance may be new, it may be understaffed, underfunded, and only semi-legitimate in the eyes of most governments, but it isn't going to give up that easily. There is a world to save, clouds to break, mysteries to uncover, and possibly even more civilizations to contact. There is hope for the future, but it won't be easy.

Features:

* Four distinct regions, each with its own culture, unique technology/magics, and even enemy types. Be that meme of a cowboy, a samurai, a Victorian gentleman, and a Caribbean pirate being a historically accurate party.

* A flexible character class system with basic and advanced classes to unlock. Each class also gives you a choice of sub-class from the start, which are usually quite flavorful and can differentiate them in substantial ways.

* A Quirk system that gives guidance for rollplay and provides mechanical benefits for being in character.

* Easy to learn magic system: spend MP and you cast a spell you know. Leveling up gives access to more options, but the basics are never useless.

* Fighting isn't just reducing one side to 0 HP faster than your enemy reduces yours. Use your skills and tool kits to Neutralize the enemies without having to fully deplete their HP. Defeat enough enemies, and the rest will retreat once you break their Morale.

This is a submission but i think they meant to make it an ask I've heard of it! can't buy it rn because of lack of ca$h but it looked at the very least really interesting, even though I hated how it was pitched (WHAT DO YOU MEAN "FINAL FANTASY MEETS STAR TREK", THAT'S LIKE SAYING WORDS MEET IMAGES. THATS SO VAGUE)

[shadowtraveled]

In your Mithrun analysis, when you say “maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.” who is the ‘someone’ in your mind? Milsiril? Kabru and the canaries? I loved your analysis, so I’m curious

OH kabru absolutely

milsiril spared him and, decades later, helped him with his physical rehabilitation, but it seems like she more or less gave up on his personhood. no more desires -> no more mithrun as we knew him -> no more mithrun. she spared him because he wasn’t completely devoid of motivation to live, and she used the single motivator he had left to eventually get him to keep himself alive, and she briefly even seemed to want to try and instill some of his old mask (even with the understanding that that’s what it was) back into him, but that fell through immediately and i think with it went her optimism that mithrun would ever… be a person again. “too late now, i guess.”

then the canaries are on good enough terms with him, but they’re practically instructed to treat him like a weapon or a tool they’re maintaining. i believe it’s cithis that tells kabru to take care of mithrun but clarifies that really what that is is just making sure he eats. ensuring his baseline needs for survival are met. and really, that’s all she was ever tasked with. when it’s all over and mithrun is cataleptic, the canaries stay physically near him, but they seem to have accepted that he’s gone—without the demon to chase, he has nothing to live for. cithis, though, seems to be closer to mithrun than any of the others, and i don’t think it’s a coincidence that she’s the one who calls lycion off and encourages kabru to try engaging with him when she hears the beginning of what he has to say.

this post caught a lot of my opinions regarding mithrun’s relationships (linking to my reblog of it because i dumped some thoughts in the tags) but tldr i do think milsiril and the canaries fall short of thinking of mithrun as a person, and that’s why their relationships with him fail him somewhat. i don’t think that’s their fault, because it seems like they were taught to think of losing your desires as a complete loss of self and humanity, but it does mean they see mithrun as someone who has already been lost. kabru is demonstrably different in that he’s able to help mithrun see a future beyond the demon, and he’s able to do it because he deals with mithrun like he’s human. because he is. and all of that stems from the specific aspect of kabru’s personality that is his obsession with people

[eileen-crys]

AI DISTURBANCE "OVERLAYS" DO NOT WORK!

To all the artists and folks who want to protect their art against AI mimicry: all the "AI disturbance" overlays that are circulating online lately DON'T WORK!

Glaze's disturbance (and now the Ibis Paint premium feature, apparently. Not sure.) modifies the image on a code-level, it's not just an overlayed effect but it actually affects the image's data so AI can't really detect and interpret the code within the image. From the Glaze website:

Can't you just apply some filter, compression, blurring, or add some noise to the image to destroy image cloaks? As counterintuitive as this may be, the high level answer is that no simple tools work to destroy the perturbation of these image cloaks. To make sense of this, it helps to first understand that cloaking does not use high-intensity pixels, or rely on bright patterns to distort the image. It is a precisely computed combination of a number of pixels that do not easily stand out to the human eye, but can produce distortion in the AI's “eye.” In our work, we have performed extensive tests showing how robust cloaking is to things like image compression and distortion/noise/masking injection. Another way to think about this is that the cloak is not some brittle watermark that is either seen or not seen. It is a transformation of the image in a dimension that humans do not perceive, but very much in the dimensions that the deep learning model perceive these images. So transformations that rotate, blur, change resolution, crop, etc, do not affect the cloak, just like the same way those operations would not change your perception of what makes a Van Gogh painting "Van Gogh."

Anyone can request a WebGlaze account for FREE, just send an Email or a DM to the official Glaze Project accounts on X and Instagram, they reply within a few days. Be sure to provide a link to your art acc (anywhere) so they know you're an artist.

Please don't be fooled by those colorful and bright overlays to just download and put on your art: it won't work against AI training. Protect your art with REAL Glaze please 🙏🏻 WebGlaze is SUPER FAST, you upload the artwork and they send it back to you within five minutes, and the effect is barely visible!

Official Glaze Project website | Glaze FAQs | about WebGlaze

[subtlelovers]

Hi, just read your reflection series with Satoru and I beg pls make part 3 I’m obsessed now. 😩

He saw his reflection in your eyes PT 1-3 (satoru Gojo X Fem!Reader)

About: Fluff, Angst?, Action.

Creator: This is a collection of part 1, 2 and 3, Thank you for all the attention and liking the stories have gotten! Every like, reblog and comment is appreciated! <3 (I havent said before, but the story is inspired by the song "Reflections" By the neighbourhood)

Chapter 1

Satoru Gojo. The strongest sorcerer of his time was burnt out, on top of missions and classes where he taught his students he was full booked never getting a second to himself. He was exhausted not getting enough sleep, though he found thta the time he was awake at night was the only time he had alone with his thoughts.

He was walking down the rainy streets, they were dimly lit by orange street lights. Cold rain had soaked his clothes all the way through, the sound of his feet splashing the water on the ground beneath him echoing through the empty streets. It was probably 4AM and Satoru was holding in his tears as he speed walked to try and get his mind off all of the stress.

Suddenly he sees someone walking slowly and a bit unsteadily in his direction, they were short and petite. He looked closer as he got closer to her, and he could see her wiping her flowing tears in her already rain soaked sweater. She was sniffling and desperately wiping them away as she walked, seemingly she was barely even able to hold her up as she almost tripped in her own feet.

When she walks past him, he grabs her wrists. "Stop." His soft yet cold voice says. You see who was holding your wrists to look up at Satoru, you were a sorcerer yourself born into a famous clan though you never went to school for it, so you knew who he was. "What are you doing grabbing be like that?!" You ask a bit shaken up as you pull away your hand to yourself.

Satoru’s grip loosens as he steps back, his usually calm demeanor slightly shaken by the desperation in your voice. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice gentler now. "I just... you seemed like you needed help." You blink away the rain and tears, studying his face. Even in the dim light, you recognize the exhaustion in his eyes, mirroring your own. "I don't need help," you reply, but the quiver in your voice betrays you.

Satoru looks in your eyes for a second it's like a shiver in his spine... a spark in his eye, there was something so familiar about the way your eyes portrayed your expression. "Stop glaring at me" You say before you meet his eyes and feel the same, leaving you stunned and mute for a few seconds. A soft sigh escapes your lips, in the form of a "woah" kind of sound. Satoru speaks up "I'm sorry but, I see my reflection in your eyes..." He says leaning closer to your face a bit, your eyes widen. That is exactly the same thing you felt, he knew your pain he felt the same... Satoru steps back for a little bit, is it possible she knew his pain? Understood him properly? Satoru was born the "Honored one" due to him being borned with the 6 eyes and limitless technique. He was therefore spoiled rotten as a kid but quickly he was hunted after, a hefty sum above his head. People saw him as a war tool, as a danger due to his potential strength... Was it possible she had something similar..?

The rain outside continued to pour, creating a rhythmic backdrop to your thoughts. You finally break the silence. "I'm just so tired," you admit quietly. "My clan expected so much from me. I've never been allowed to be just... me." Satoru's eyes soften, a hint of sadness mixed with understanding. "It's a heavy burden, isn't it?" he says, almost to himself. "To be seen as something more than human, to carry the weight of everyone's expectations." He understood you...

You feel his long muscular arms pull you into his embrace but you don't hesitate at all, you wrap your own arms around his back and feel your rain soaked bodies press together. It was so comforting, the way the thin fabric of your clothes were so wet you could practically feel eachothers skin in the hug. Feeling the comforting closeness. Despite your earlier attempts you just let your tears fall, let them trinkle down your cheeks as you and the white haired man hugged. You could swear you heard him sniffle too, you were both strangers just a few minutes ago. Somehow you were now so close, like you had just met your mirror opposites or something, Satoru crouched down a bit to face you, he smiled and placed his hand behind your head gently pressing his lips against your own. His hand on your wet hair, rubbing his thumb on the back of your head as the two of you kissed. Blocking out the world outside as the rain just continued.

Chapter 2

Satoru let go of you as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He looks at it and mumbles "Fuck." He still ha done arm around you holding you close as he answered the phone. "Hello, Gojo speaking." He says into the phone, you keep a watchfull eye over him during his phone call. You were lost in thought, what happens now? Are you two never gonna see eachother? No, that can't be-

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud annoyed groan from Gojo, he looks down at you and pats your head smiling gently "I have a mission, but I can't leave you here. Can I...?" You shake your head "No! At least give me a way to contact you agai-" He interrupts you again. "No I mean I can't leave you outside here soaking in the early day." What was with this man and interrupting you???

He lifts you over his shoulder, "You don't mind a fresh breeze, do you?" He asks. A bit caught off guard you respond "No." And with that, he took off. This man ran at light speed, you had heard about him everywhere but he had definetely exceeding your expectations. Seconds after you arrived at the jujutsu school. You knew the area despite not having gone there before, apparently Satoru had his own dorm apartment thing there that he just lived at. He places you down on the floor inside of his dorm. "Welcome to my not so humble abode" He says.

There was a kitchen, a small couch and a tv in that room, as well as two other doors that you assumed were for the bathroom and bedroom.

It was not big but it wasn't tiny, it was comforting. The doors were typical japanese sliding doors and the place was neat and clean, seemingly. "It's nice!" You smile as you step out of your shoes but stop yourself from stepping off the carpet.

"I don't wanna get your floors wet though..." You say as he turns to look at you, smiling sheepishly, he was just as soaked as you dripping in water still.

"Don't worry about it, you can have a shower here. Borrow some clothes from me for the rest of the night. I'll be leaving soon for the mission so you can just have some rest in my bed if you want to. Just make yourself at home" He says as he rummages through a drawer pulling out a oversized black sweater and some red plaid pj pants, as well as some white socks. He throws them over to you and you catch them. "There are towels in the bottom bathroom drawers, take what you need. I am heading out, I'll be back in a few." You smile and nod at him "Thank you" You say gratefully before turning into the bathroom locking the door behind you.

You strip and run the shower, hot water flowed out the shower head and you stepped in. You used Satorus soaps, they all had the same smell and brand, a thick and deep vanilla scent. After that you hung up your wet clothes on the drying rack in the bathroom and threw on the fresh warm clothes Satoru had borrowed you. You brush your hair in the mirror, you had to wipe off some fog that had collected on it from the water. Walking out of the bathroom you saw that Satoru had left, he had hung a postit on the wall that said "Be back in 6 hours, get some sleep and eat" You smile to yourself as you saw that he had drawn a smileyface and a heart next to the text.

You walk into his bedroom, he had a giant bed. It was giant to you at least. You lay down and get under the warm comforters and fluffy blankets. you shut your eyes and drift off to sleep in his bed. His whole room smelled like him and his perfume, his pillows smelled like his hair wash.

As you lay in Gojo's bed, surrounded by his comforting scent, you drift into a deep, peaceful sleep. Your dreams are filled with fragments of the day's events, and you find yourself wondering about the nature of Satoru's mission and what kind of dangers he might be facing. But his reassuring presence and the sense of security his room provides help to ease your worries.

Hours pass, and you wake up to the sound of the front door clicking open. You blink groggily, trying to adjust to the dim light of the evening. Satoru steps into the room, looking slightly tired but still wearing that familiar confident smile. "Hey there," he says softly, not wanting to startle you. "Did you sleep well?"

You sit up, rubbing your eyes. "Yeah, I did. Thanks for letting me stay here."

He smirks and lunges into the bed next to you burying his face in the crook of your neck. His exhaustion was evident on his face, you run your fingers through his hair and he sighs relaxed. "Are you hungry?" He asks lifting his head and looking at you, giving your lips a quick peck. "A little, I can make myself something, think you should get some rest?" You say it like a question but it was more a statement.

Satoru had been awake for probably almost two days by then so he nodded "Yeah... Wake me up in 3 hours, okay?" You nod and exit his room sliding the door shut behind you. You wash your face in the bathroom and brush your hair before cooking yourself some instant noodles in his kitchen.

The whole night had been so wierd... You just casually met Satoru Gojo and realized you were linked to eachother in some way. Now you two had kissed, you had slept in his bed, showered at his house... You ponder as you eat the noodles, you then sit down on his couch and watch tv.

As you sit on the couch, the flicker of the TV is a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. The reality of the past day starts to sink in. Your mind races with questions about what the future might hold with Satoru, the man who had suddenly become so important in your life.

The TV show you're watching barely registers in your mind as you replay the day's events. The way Satoru had protected you, the warmth of his presence, and the unexpected tenderness he showed despite his formidable reputation. There's something enigmatic about him, and it draws you in even more.

After finishing your noodles, you tidy up the kitchen and decide to check on Satoru. Quietly, you slide the door open a crack and peer inside. He's sprawled out on the bed, snoring lightly, a hand resting where you had been laying earlier. You can't help but smile at how peaceful he looks, so different from the powerful sorcerer the world knows.

Deciding to let him sleep a bit longer, you retreat back to the living area. Picking up a book from the small shelf in the corner, you curl up on the couch and try to lose yourself in its pages. But your thoughts keep drifting back to Satoru. What kind of life does he lead outside the public eye? What dangers does he face on his missions? And most importantly, what does he see in you?

An hour passes before you hear a soft rustling from the bedroom. You put the book down and walk to the door. Satoru is sitting up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He looks at you and smiles, his eyes softening with warmth.

"Did you sleep well?" you ask, stepping into the room.

He nods, stretching his arms above his head. "Yeah, I feel much better. Thanks for letting me rest."

You sit down on the edge of the bed next to Satoru. "This is crazy..." You say quietly. Satoru tilts his head to the side and has an unreadable expression as he says "I know... I just- I felt something... I know you did too..." You think silently for a bit, your eyes never leaving his.

"Yes... It sounds cheesy but I-" You start laughing mid sentence, trying to compose yourself as you wipe a tear of laughter from your eyes. "Sorry... What I meant... Do you think we could be soulmates? Like in all seriousness..."

Satoru shrugs "I never really belived in that stuff... Before I met you..." He cups the side of your face rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. "I think I love you- But I dont even know your name" He chuckles. "Y/n" You say. He smiles "I think I love you Y/n" You smile and lean forwards, feeling his breath on your face. "I think I love you too Satoru."

Chapter 3

A week had passed since that stormy night, and the connection between you and Satoru had grown stronger with each day. You found comfort in each other's presence, and the bond you shared seemed unbreakable. But the peace was short-lived. The jujutsu school had received reports of a powerful curse terrorizing a nearby village, and both of you were assigned to handle it.

As you prepared for the mission, Satoru's usual playful demeanor was tinged with seriousness. "This curse is no joke, Y/n," he warned. "We'll need to be on our toes."

You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. "I'm ready, Satoru. Let's do this."

The journey to the village was uneventful, the tension building as you approached your destination. The air grew colder, and the once-vibrant forest surrounding the village seemed to wither, the trees gnarled and lifeless. You could feel the malevolent energy of the curse, a palpable darkness that sent shivers down your spine.

"We're close," Satoru said, his eyes scanning the area. "Stay close to me."

The village was eerily silent, the streets deserted. As you walked, you noticed signs of a struggle—broken windows, overturned carts, and scorch marks on the ground. The curse had already wreaked havoc. Suddenly, a low growl echoed through the empty streets, and a massive, shadowy figure emerged from the darkness. The curse was monstrous, its form shifting and writhing as if made of pure malevolence.

"Satoru, that's it!" you exclaimed, readying your cursed energy.

He nodded, his expression fierce. "Let's take it down."

The battle was intense. The curse was powerful, its attacks relentless. But with Satoru by your side, you fought with a newfound determination. You moved in sync, your attacks complementing each other perfectly. Satoru's limitless technique and your own skills made for a formidable combination.

Just as you thought you had the upper hand, the curse let out a deafening roar, its form expanding and darkening the sky. The ground shook beneath your feet, and you struggled to maintain your balance. "Y/n, watch out!" Satoru shouted, his eyes wide with alarm.

But it was too late. The curse unleashed a torrent of dark energy, knocking you off your feet and sending you crashing into a nearby building. Pain shot through your body as you struggled to stand, your vision blurred.

"Satoru!" you called out, panic rising in your chest.

He was fighting valiantly, but even he seemed to be struggling against the curse's newfound strength. The monster's attacks were relentless, and Satoru's movements were becoming slower, more labored.

Desperation fueled your determination. You summoned every ounce of your strength, pushing through the pain. "I'm not giving up," you muttered, clenching your fists. "Not now."

You charged at the curse, your cursed energy blazing. Satoru saw you coming and his eyes lit up with a mix of relief and admiration. Together, you launched a coordinated attack, striking the curse with everything you had.

For a moment, it seemed like you were winning. The curse howled in pain, its form flickering and weakening. But then, with a final, desperate burst of energy, it lashed out at Satoru, sending him flying.

"Satoru!" you screamed, rushing to his side. He was unconscious, his body battered and bruised. The curse was weakening, but it wasn't defeated. It turned its malevolent gaze toward you, its form coiling and ready to strike. You stood your ground, protecting Satoru with every bit of strength you had left.

As the curse lunged at you, time seemed to slow. You braced yourself, ready to face it head-on, when suddenly a blinding light enveloped you both. You felt a surge of energy, and then everything went dark.

When you opened your eyes, you were lying on the ground, the curse nowhere in sight. Satoru was still unconscious beside you, but he was breathing. Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. You sensed another presence, one even more powerful than the curse you had just fought. Footsteps approached, and a figure emerged from the shadows. It was a sorcerer, one you didn't recognize, but the malevolent aura around them was unmistakable.

"Well, well," the sorcerer said with a sinister smile. "It seems I've found the famous Satoru Gojo and his new companion. This should be interesting." You tried to stand, but your body was too weak. The sorcerer stepped closer, their intent clear. And then, everything went black.

End.

Creator: I'm going to take a teeny tiny break from this series, but there will at least be two more parts this week! Unsure exactly when though. :)

[healthproduct88]

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[vvitchllng]

In addition to Everything Else that happened this episode, I can’t stop thinking about the moment where Laudna asks him why Seedling isn’t enough why he wants This sword and Orym’s whole demeanor shifts and he looks Laudna dead in the eyes and says you’re right why Would you reach for a darker power.

Orym and Laudna are the characters with the most interparty conflict and they’re the same!!!!!!! At their core their strongest motivation is their drive to protect the ones they love at the cost of themselves if necessary. We see it all the time with Orym throwing himself in front of his friends over and over again, making deals with fae to try and keep them safe. And we see it all the time with Laudna and Delilah, where over and Over again she lures Laudna with the promise of being strong enough to protect her friends, to keep them safe. We saw it again tonight when Delilah manipulated her to get the sword by telling her it was a danger to Orym!!

Both of them looked at the power that caused their pain and decided to take it for their own, to use it to protect their loved ones instead, because if it was capable of such devastation against them, it was capable of delivering that same devastation to their enemies. Laudna asking why seedling isn’t enough (why he isn’t enough, the frustrated self-deprecating response “I have Push-ups!”) and Orym returning the question because Laudna Does have her own power separate from Delilah, she just doesn’t think its enough for what’s coming!!!

They both lost their families, but where Orym had the rest of his family, a purpose, a home, Laudna lost Everything and only had the voice of her murderer as comfort in the cold. So now they’re both taking on the power that destroyed their lives, but Orym can be rational and willing to have a discussion about doing so, while Laudna absolutely Cannot do the same because of how entwined she is with Delilah (with Delilah quite literally guiding her actions in addition to the years of psychological manipulation and abuse), and so they’re the same and yet so utterly different that they keep coming up against this fundamental inability to understand the other’s position because despite the same underlying motivations, their responses are so different.

Why would you reach for a darker power, why can you not understand why I’m doing this, why can you not see I’m doing this For You. Distorted reflections of each other wanting to be understood and at a loss when faced with the differences between them, what a fucking dynamic.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Fuck I hate being an adult. I need a more adult adult to help with the volatile emotional situation.

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

Flourish AU - Dragonheart Pirkko - Durmond Priory

Champion of the Caustic Elder Dragon

"Lasting change isn't gentle. It's harsh, abrasive, and inescapable. Either we'll adapt or we'll die trying."

"A better world starts with deciding what we're prepared to lose."

[dairyfreenugget]

(Going insane boinkinh one AU in my head)

Hey hey hey

May I interest you in

(Slowly slides my FaaF AU towards you but void just Disappears without a trace one day before the accolade)

Teehee

[antisocialxconstruct]

oooughfhfg in my head about Maksim tonight folks

[launh]

Oh my god I don't have good and fancy words for it but I'm so tired of the fucking polarisation spiral. The whole 'those people and these people and their stupid barbaric selfish people and our good intelligent kind people'. The fucking separation of it all - "I won't do politics unless that guy stops being a politician, I don't want to play until the playing field is fair, I don't want to vote until those people stop voting". Oh my god!! Who do you think has the power to make the playing field fair!!! That's you baby!!! Are you really truly any better than 'those people' who stereotype and judge others? Of course you can disagree with someone, of course you can dislike a politician and their views and of course you can dislike it when someone agrees with those views. And of course you can dislike spending time with a group of people because of their views! But dismissing an entire group of people as barbaric and stupid and not worth your time and even subhuman (?!) because of their views? Be serious. How will that ever fucking help. Do you think separating the good people from the bad people has ever resulted in anything good at all ever? You know what helps? Talking to each other. Finding common ground. Good, you both like baking. Good, you both live on the same street. Good, you both like the name Ruth. Or fucking whatever. And then go from there. Try to maybe listen and understand each other for once. I'm not talking about forgiving people who plan on taking away your human rights or who would rather see you dead. Obviously. I'm not saying you should find the nearest 'bad person' and befriend them. Obviously. But take a good look at yourself pleasseeeeee. What do you mean 'bad person'? If you believe hatred is taught, have you ever caught yourself believing in the innate evil of a trump supporter, have you ever considered them beyond saving? If you believe empathy is human, have you ever checked if your thoughts still mean the same, does "i hate men" still carry the same value, do you still look at men the same way you did before you started saying that? Do you catch yourself stripping away hobbies and feelings and meaningful relationships from 'those' people, do you consider yourself above them? Do you praise and celebrate when people change for the better or do you hold on to what they used to do and put all your focus on what they still need to learn? A homophobe might meet a gay man and consider him one of the good ones, and that's a good start. That's not the end but it's a good fucking start. If your politics are in-group/out-group politics you are not helping and you do not have the interest of your fellow people at heart. If your beliefs have pushed you to the point you hate a certain group so much you think it's better if they're dead? I'm asking you to think about that a little, okay? Maybe go outside. Talk to people. Jesus christ.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[swordmaid]

sza open arms but it’s shri’iia’s relationship with lolth specifically this part