#does the second layer become an issue. or is there only the first and it's just worked itself deep enough that it now feels intrinsic

[genderfluid-druid]

dropping thoughts like laundry into the aromanticism washing machine and watching them spin. taking little notes in a fancy journal titled "greyro??" and crossing them out, but then going back and scribbling an addendum. holding up an extravagant glass beaker full of a cool bubbling potion and peering at it through safety glasses that say "mind the amatonormativity!"

[eggcats]

Making another post based on Alastor knowing everything that plays over his airwaves, but this time combining the radiohuskerdust and radioapple

Angel decides they need a Boys Night, and coerces Alastor, Husk, and Lucifer to join him in drinking and listening to music (aka Alastor)

Angel forces them all to (if not wear pajamas) to be SEVERELY dressed down, and is like if you're wearing too many layers, we're playing strip poker until you're not *glare* so they dont

So Angel is in like a crop top hoodie and low-rise shorts, Lucifer is definitely in some kind of duckie pajamas, Husk is basically in the same outfit except he swapped out the pants for sweatpants, and Alastor is in a loose button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons undone, and comfortable slacks

And as they're drinking, Angel keeps requesting more and more random and obscure songs for Alastor to play (Lucifer is greatly confused by this, but then eventually joins in because he's never seen Alastor so indulgent in something so stupid before, and it's fun)

Eventually Alastor gets drunk enough to start singing along to the songs, and after just a few more drinks he grabs Husk and makes him dance with him (he grabs Husk because they've known each other for years and have basically done this every time they get drunk together)

Husk is enjoying the attention, because while Alastor owns his soul and they do have tense moments, they have known each other for years and Husk does genuinely care about him (and he thinks there Could be something, if Alastor only let it)

(Alastor will not, because even with them becoming close over the years, he is Uncomfortably aware of the power difference, and as a mixed man from the 30s, that is a line he will NOT cross. Meeting Angel and his issues with Valentino only confirms this to himself.)

It's at this point that Alastor drops the transatlantic voice and starts slurring in his Louisiana Creole, and his radio static keeps dropping out for his real voice to come through (both Angel and Lucifer are shot dead, they didn't know this was a possibility and now they're going to be thinking about it forever. Husk is only safe because he's experienced this before)

Angel immediately has to join in with the dancing, because Hot Deer Daddy being drunk and playful??? He needs IN immediately.

Lucifer is having a crisis, he thought he had a handle on thinking Alastor was hot, but then he brought his TAIL and his ACCENT and his DANCING and he's flushed and giggly and. Oh no. Maybe Charlie IS going to have a second father after all???

Alastor eventually coerces Lucifer into dancing too by asking if he's a bad dancer, and if that's why he's still sitting. Lucifer, obviously, has to prove him wrong. (He doesn't, but it's worth it because Alastor giggles and grabs him to correct his form.)

All 3 of them revel in Alastor being much more genuine than normal (and the fact that not only is he touching them as they dance, he doesn't seem to mind when THEY touch HIM), and the fact that they get so see Alastor not only dressed down and drunk, but him relaxed and dancing with his face flushed (they all wish he didn't hate cameras or video because they wish they could keep this memory forever)

Eventually, they have to wind down and end up in a giant cuddle puddle on the floor, sleepover style

The next morning is about as awkward as you'd think, especially since somehow Lucifer fell asleep practically on top of Alastor, and Alastor himself is surrounded on both sides by Angel and Husk (which he could have handled if he was the first one to wake up so he could escape, but no, Charlie came downstairs and squealed so loud it woke up all 4 of them and made them come to terms to how they were cuddling each other. Hell.)

[javarium]

layers | geto/gojo.

— short story

you’re their favorite kouhai, everyone at tokyo and kyoto knows this. they also know that if anyone or anything were to touch or harm you in any way, they would feel the wrath of the most powerful duo. and one day, someone is dumb and foolish enough to do exactly that.

note(s): this isn’t a full complete drabble with a complete ending, but it’s something I’ve enjoyed writing. flop or no flop, this was a fun piece to write :D But tbh I’m thinking about deleting it and redoing it, or adding more. or maybe a part two lmao??

****

Trees were nothing but a blur of green to your vision. The car was going fast, way too fast for you to make out anything but the simple colors blue and green.

You blinked several times, shaking your head to keep yourself from dozing off. You were tired, so very very tired from such a long and exhausting two days of being on a First Grade mission that turned out to be a bigger issue and much more than it was worth.

They should’ve sent backup with me…

You leaned your head against the back of the backseat. You closed your eyes for just a moment, then opened them again for just a few seconds. The process was rinse and repeat; the only way to keep yourself awake.

Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep. Don’t… Just… don’t…

“Hang on, Miss [Last Name]!” frantically spoke the driver. He was probably looking in the rear view mirror, seeing you laying back on the seat with your eyes opening and closing. More so of the latter.

You heard the sound of a dial, then the voice of your driver hurriedly speaking into it. Problem was, you couldn’t understand a single word he was saying. It was all so… incoherent. Funny enough, it sounded like you were underwater.

Your head lolled to the side again, eyes half open with nothing but the same blur of green outside the window. Your hand was still over the wound, covering it with as much pressure as possible until you got to the school.

Unless you passed out first.

You could only imagine your upperclassmen holding this over your head as a joke for the rest of your life.

If you got to a medic in time, that is.

——————————

Everything had been fine. Just fine.

Great, in fact, he muses.

Him and Geto had been getting some ice cream to satisfy his sweet tooth, while Shoko complained that he was eating too much while munching away on her own ice cream like a damn hypocrite.

“What should we do now?” Shoko questioned.

“Might as well head back to the school,” Suguru suggested. “It is getting late and—”

“You’re no fun!!” Satoru complained. “Why are you so by the book?”

The black-haired male gives his childish friend a look of both amusement and exasperation. Of course Satoru was going to be like this. It was in his nature to be as anti-rules as possible. Especially if it meant pissing off the higher-ups.

“Alright, we’ll go—”

Shoko holds up a pointer finger to halt the conversation. “Aha, hold up guys. Sensei’s calling.”

“Maaaan! What now?” Satoru whines.

Just as the white-haired male goes to complain some more, he realizes Suguru’s expression changes. And that he’s not looking at him anymore — that he’s looking at Shoko now. So Satoru does the same, and now he sees his brunette friend’s face sheet white, eyes growing red like she’s about to start crying.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll be there.”

She clicks the phone off and looks to Geto, the whites of her eyes beginning to become red.

“Shoko?”

“We need to get back to the school. [Name]-chan’s hurt.”

The two males freeze, eyes going wider than saucers. But that reaction doesn’t last but two seconds, and Suguru’s pulling out his fastest Cursed Spirit he’s got and finishing the rest of the route back to school on it with his friends.

He and Satoru turn to look at one another, and Suguru knew his heart was the only one beating wildly in nothing but terror.

The three of them watched as the car pulled up; they landed as soon as the driver got out of the car.

Satoru’s and Suguru’s breaths hitched the second they landed beside the car.

Anger. Rage. Was there even a word to describe how they felt?

The red of your blood became the red of their rage — the red being the only color that they could see.

“Shoko, can—”

Her hand is already placed on your left side, her Reverse Cursed Energy pumping through your body. But the damage was done.

Your head rolled to the back of the seat, right hand limp on your stomach and left hand open, hanging loosely over the edge of the seat. Blood covered your palms, all the way up the inside of your forearms and up to the crook of your elbow.

And how pale your skin was. Was anyone supposed to be that shade of skin color? Of course it wasn’t. They knew that already. You weren’t supposed to ever be this way. Their adorable kouhai that was just too sweet and too nice for the world they lived in was never supposed to end up like this: sickly pale, blood pouring from the wound in your stomach and knocking on death’s door.

Shoko finishes healing you after what seems like forever. In reality, it’s only just a few minutes. But in those few minutes, both Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru come to a full understanding of something: they realize that you mean a lot more to them than just being their cute little kouhai. They can’t imagine you living in a world without you in it. Every thought of you not being there didn’t settle with them. They hated it. They weren’t able to envision coming to school without you passing by them in the halls. Seeing a world where they visited your headstone was unacceptable.

So many thoughts, so much anger, all accumulated within a matter of minutes that drives a permanent mark into their hearts and minds: that a world without you in it is not worth living in, and they love you too much to see anything else bad happen to you.

Suddenly, Yaga Sensei appears before them. Shoko moves out of the way so he can grab you, haul you into his arms and carry you to the infirmary where they have painkillers and other medicine. Shoko follows him, but Satoru and Suguru remain behind.

“Suguru?”

“Hm?”

“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“That we need to kill someone?”

“And that’s why you’re my best friend.”

———

Taglist: @vagabond-umlaut • @torusbabygoat

not the gojo x student reader you guys wanted ik ik but I wanted y’all to read this anyway so sue me 😭😭

[stinkyme]

Hello! This is what I mentioned in my poll, I hope you like it and enjoy it! :)

This is slightly different, I wanted to sort of..compromise with genders. Because I feel like experience itself would be different with somebody who identifies as a man versus someone who identifies as a woman, therefore I made sections :)

Also, I wanted to keep it gn! for folks who don't identify as a woman or a man so your part is less sexually explicit :)

Overall, the same things apply to everybody, but I think with people who are men it would hold different intimacy due to the "sinful" aspect of homosexuality whereas women are usually blamed for being sexual at all without bearing a child, etc. :)

CW/TW: NSFW, m/fem/gn!reader (separated), religious setting with sexual acts, priest!Fyodor, body worship, cock worship, praise, mentions of blood kink and knife play, mentions of self pleasure, oral!Fyodor receiving, marking, mentions of psychological and homoerotic (with m!reader) aspects, and if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

I hope it won't be confusing :") Everything is separated and explained accordingly :)

Priest Fyodor || Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

Overall headcanons & scenario (applicable to everyone, gn!reader) :

Whether it's just for the sake of a sexual roleplay or Fyodor actually being a priest - Priest!Fyodor adores this idea. Being lustful and sinful in a church with you brings him immense sense of pleasure...therefore - he would probably be the one to bring it up first. 

He would make the first step, assuming that the two of you have known each other for a while and that there was a certain intensity between you. 

He can sense it for a while now - how your gaze burns under his silky, black robe, practically feeling it on his skin. How your gaze lowers when you speak to him so politely and so nicely, as if you are not having all sorts of unholy thoughts inside your head. How you trail over the cross around his neck, as if it holds no meaning or weight when compared to your own desires. 

Watching his fingers slide over the Bible he holds, only to imagine what those fingers could do to you. The way you look at him makes him, just for a moment, forget about God or a place he is supposed to preach as pure and holy.

At that very moment, when your gaze trails over his clothed body, he can sense that you wish to know what his skin feels like. What he feels like when he is not the voice of a good Christian. Who he really is, under all of those easily removable layers of false christianity; who he is in his primal.., animalistic core even.

He will return your gaze just as lustfully, making your desire to cross over an invisible boundary even higher. Just for one second. It feels forbidden and it feels wrong, but does that really mean anything to an average human who knows that it will feel so good? Who knows that it will feel wrong but who can even think about it when pleasure overwhelms you? Both of you knew it means nothing compared to what you desire. You were already "bad" christians, after all.

Finally, being alone with him for the first time. Church is awfully quiet, only filled with unspoken desires. Tension is heavy and your thoughts become heavier to bear. Fyodor feels the same way, but he also wants to test his own luck. Finally making a first move.

Divided by a wooden wall and little window, he will ask you to confess your sins. Or simply, let out anything that may lay heavy on your chest. As if it was that easy and simple.

You may start off with something irrelevant just to alter your actual "sin". 

He doesn't have time for this. Or patience. 

Good christian you will say.

"Tell me, Y/N, how do you see me?" he cuts you off and asks very calmly, his voice like honey. You take a look at him through a little window, his gaze is inviting and anything but one of a priest.

"As a good christian." you chuckle, trying to move the conversation to the actual issue here or, at last, to ease up the tension.

"I figured you would say that." he lets out a pitiful chuckle.

"Anything but that. Tell me, how do you see me?" he is persistent, his gaze and voice even more inviting now. Challenging. How far would you go for him? 

"As a good man." you reply in a simple manner, trying to contain every other thought that is currently overflowing your mind. 

His neck seems soft. So pale. Easy to mark and ruin.

Rest of his body is probably just like that.

If only he could voice all awfully dirty desires with that silky voice of his instead of preaching what keeps you apart from him.

If only he would use those fingers to run them over your bare skin instead of holding a book of nonsense.

"Is that so?" he chuckles.

"What if I told you I am anything but a good christian, yet alone a good man?" he asks, certain slyness glowing in his eyes. His own desires were breaking through. You could almost touch them. Almost.

"Why would you say that?" you ask, faking innocence as always. He stands up, leaving his part of the confessional while remaining silent. You get out of your part, observing him in slight confusion.

He locks the door of the church, slowly walking back to you. You know a choice awaits you.

Read this if you identify as a woman or are afab who is okay with mentions of female experience (for men and folks who want full gn!reader experience, scenarios go below this one) :

How far are you ready to go for him? Are you ready to completely abandon your religion and beliefs? What about shame? Guilt? You are a woman for the fuck sake. You will be dirty. Can you bear the sin of being a bad woman? Can you allow yourself to be intimate with him in a church? Can you allow yourself such a forbidden pleasure that was never yours to begin with? Why are you acting as if you had rights for selfish pleasure? Pleasure that holds no fruition of a child with a man with whom you have more lust than love? Why are you acting so arrogant as if you have any rights to pleasure? Why are you acting as if his name hasn't spilled each time your orgasm was at its peak? Hell knows.

Read this if you identify as a man or if you are amab who is okay with male + mlm experience :

How far are you ready to go for him? Are you ready to completely abandon your religion and beliefs? What about shame? Guilt? You are a man for the fuck sake. You will be dirty. Do you have what it takes to live with it? To be intimate with a man? Right here? In front of all those holy eyes? How far can you go? Is this a test? If you resist now, will you go to Heaven? What Heaven? Haven't you already sinned, just by having desires for him? Haven't you already sinned by thinking about him anytime your hand was filled with cum while his name slipped your lips? Hell knows.

Read this for the continuation of the main story + gn!reader experience :

How far are you ready to go for him? Are you ready to completely abandon your religion and beliefs? What about shame? Guilt? Did you really know any? Why are you acting as if you haven't already played into your desires when you were alone? Imagining him doing everything you did to yourself, is it not sinful already? Why are you acting like you are a good christian when every single saint already knows what you are scared to admit? Will God stop you now? Will church go down in flames just to stop you from sinning? Is that what would stop you? Hell knows.

"I think we both already know what this is about." he whispers, putting the keys on a random bench as he finally gets close to you. You swallow knowing your decision was already made.

"And frankly, I also think you know why I am a bad man..or rather, a bad christian. Same reason as you are." he whispers, his fingertips touching your cheeks for the very first time. You can feel a burning knot forming inside your tummy, a light gasp escaping your lips. He moves his fingertips over your lips, slowly dragging them down and watching your bottom lip follow. You are stuck in place, feeling as if you move you will ruin everything. Your heart is beating fast and your skin grows hotter as he moves his fingertips over your chin, moving them lower and finally touching your neck.

NSFW (gn!reader), mixture of scenario & headcanons:

"Keys are right there, if you wish to leave." he says in a soft, almost desperate tone as this is the very last thing he wants to happen. His fingers trail over your neck, his thumb separating from the rest of his fingers as he wraps them all around your throat, holding it gently. You are not blinking, your gaze is fixated on his face. His head is tilted and lips are parted; he looks blissful.

His index finger gently caresses the skin below your ear and you just notice how cold his hands are.

You finally move, bringing your own hand to his face, sliding your fingers over a face that you should never touch with such desires. Stepping closer to him, your other hand slides over his chest, barely feeling them over the robe.

You slide your hand down, so close to his cock. 

One little movement and it's over. You can still take an offer to leave.

No.

You look at him hesitantly, but he takes your hand with his and moves it where both of you wish. You gasp in while he is incredibly calm. You can feel his hard cock on your fingertips, robe barely hiding the outline of it. He pulls you by your throat, his lips brushing over yours. Your eyes tear up from the intensity of your desire and feelings as you grasp his cock, making him gasp out. He squeezes your throat with equal pressure that you squeezed his cock with.

Everything is so slow, but so fast at the same time. You look into his eyes for the very last time, before gasping out and leaning your face even closer to him. Your lips are touching. You close your eyes and he follows, his lips capturing yours as his tongue slips inside your mouth, gently brushing over yours. You can feel a knot dissolving inside your tummy and spreading all over your body, making you needy for more. Fyodor starts breathing more heavily, a few snivels slipping out of his throat and getting muffled inside the kiss.

Quickly enough, your kiss grows more primal, your bodies grow more incoherent and only desire to get each other naked remains.

Priest!Fyodor wants everything as soon as you are naked in front of each other. He pushes you to the ground, making you kneel in front of him.

"Only God you need right now is me. Only one you need to satisfy now is me." he says in a sly and lickerish tone as he grabs your hair and pulls you towards his aching cock.

He wants you to worship him. To worship his cock like a good whore and a bad christian. You will kiss his balls, completely driven by pure desire. Licking the edge on the bottom side of his cock up to his tip. Kissing your way back - from the tip down to his balls. Putting the tip of his cock inside your mouth while kneeling on cold tiles of the church floor and twirling your tongue around it. All while he whimpers shamelessly and encourages you to go deeper.

You choke on his cock, completely oblivious to everything else. Moving your head back and forth while your tongue reaches all of his sensitive spots. He will praise you and only praise you need is his. He will tell you how good you are doing for him. How you are satisfying the one you are supposed to.

Priest!Fyodor wants you to worship his body too. To leave sinful kisses everywhere that your lips can reach. He wants to feel your tongue slide over every sensitive or less sensitive part of his skin. He wants you to make him feel as if he is the only one who exists for you in the moment. As if he is the only one who can make you feel the way he does. He wants to worship your body too. Kissing every part of it, learning what your body prefers and where you may be the most sensitive. He wishes to kiss every single spot until he learns them all. From your forehead and cheeks, over your neck and behind your ears, down to your collarbone and chest area, your stomach, waist, hip bones, thighs, calves, ankles - everything. He wishes to make up for every single time he wasn't able to appreciate you the way you both desired. He wants your and his body to be filled with invisible bites and kisses that will burn long afterwards. That will grow more desire for each other. More devotion.

Priest!Fyodor wants you to mark him. Mark his body like he belongs to you and only you. He is not selfish or a lunatic to actually believe he is the one who owns you. He desires mutual devotion. A devotion neither he or you could reach with God.

Whimpers escaping his lips and echoing the big church as your teeth slide his skin between them. Leaving red, purple or blue marks behind all over his body. His neck, his collarbones, his chest, his stomach - it's all yours. All yours to claim and devote to while he devotes to you by giving you his bare body. He wishes to mark your body too if he can. Even if no marks are left behind, he wants the feeling of it. To dig his teeth in your skin and listen to your voice breaking and asking for more of him. He wants to have this and every next moment with you engraved in his skin.

Which is why, Priest!Fyodor wants you to use the knife on him. Not in a violent way. He wants you to leave a few gentle cuts over his body and lick the small amount of blood that is sliding out of the slits you make. To suck on them while he chokes out your name, belonging to you only. He wants to do the same to you. Just make a few cuts so this moment lasts on your skin for a while after. He wants to lick small amount of your blood as well and kiss you afterwards, reaching almost complete devotion. 

Priest!Fyodor wants to fuck you senseless in the sacred and holy place. A church throne. He wants you to bend over for him while your knees are on the chair so he can fuck you relentlessly. To the point where no noise can escape your tired throat anymore. For you to reach complete bliss with him, to reach orgasm after orgasm from his cock only. From him only. He wants to make up for each time you had to do it yourself. For each time he had to do it himself. So he will fuck you for as long as he can, completely ignoring how worn out his body is after few hours. He wants to hear his name slip past your lips while his skin slaps into yours each time he thrusts and reaches your sensitive spot. 

He will let you have your own control over him soon enough. He promises. Just a little bit more, just a few more times. He can't get enough of you. The way your body shakes under him, the way you are so shameless with calling his name in such a place. The way your fingernails dig into the throne with no remorse or respect. He can't get enough of it. He will be more gentle next time, but now? He just needs to let it all out. All of his primal desires, frustrations, all of the times substitute for you was his "holy" hand. Everything. Priest!Fyodor is insatiable with you; you are his only devotion he wishes to pleasure and satisfy from now on.

The End :)

I hope this wasn't too confusing and that you enjoyed! :) <3

Feedback is appreciated, this is my first time doing this format so I hope I didn't disappoint :") <3

Thank you so much for all love and support! :)

P.S. sub!Jouno soon :3

[starcrossed591]

I’m finally caught up on Till the End of the Moon (up to ep 24), and before everything goes to hell--something both that I’m looking forward to and that fills me with dread --I have some Susu thoughts. Yes, she’s done some dumb things to put herself in the situation in which she now finds herself (I haven’t read the novel, though it sounds like that’s in part an adaptation issue), but also, her situation was already fully impossible. A big part of that is because of how many versions of Tantai Jin she holds inside her head and her conflicting relationships with all of those different versions that this scene so beautifully invoked:

Anyway, I’m kind of obsessed with Susu, so here’s a character analysis that literally no one asked for. 

The first version of Tantai Jin Susu knows is the Devil God that not only essentially ended the world (stakes almost too big to wrap your brain around) but also killed all of her family and friends in front of her (more personal stakes). He also nearly killed her--she viscerally remembers both the feeling of his hand around her throat and the look in his eyes when he did. No matter what the past version of Tantai Jin does, that version came first and can pop up in her brain at literally any moment, especially as he gains power and becomes more of a potential threat. That leads to the first version of Susu that has to exist: the version that needs to prevent his rise as the Devil God at any cost. Her sect died to send her back in time and give her that chance. She cannot afford to forget her mission.

The second version of Tantai Jin Susu knows is Tantai Jin as how he is when she arrives in the past. He starts out as a poor, abused little mew mew, and Susu pretty quickly finds herself unable to punish Tantai Jin for his future crimes. She’s not even very good at being mean to him. At the same time, she needs to stop him from dying before she figures out how to deal with the whole evil bone situation. This Tantai Jin leads to the next layer of Susu’s relationship with Tantai Jin: she needs to keep him alive and, on the off chance that it’ll prevent him from becoming the Devil God, be nice to him, too. Since no one has cared whether Tantai Jin lives or dies before, or if they did probably preferred him dead, that little bit of kindness and care fully knock Tantai Jin off balance. And that leads to the first time Susu lies to Tantai Jin that she wants to protect him because she loves him, which is where their relationship starts to get messy. 

Then, plot things happens, Susu disappears for a few months, and when gets back, she meets essentially the third version of Tantai Jin: Tantai Jin has somehow become king of a whole ass country while she was gone, is fighting a war against her new “home” country, and has started using his demonic powers in a pretty big way. Yes, Tantai Jin is actually a pretty good ruler, but Susu remembers a version of him that’s capable of wiping out the entire world. His newfound access to power puts her on edge. She’s constantly afraid he’ll misuse it.

She also knows now what she needs to do in order to get rid of his evil bone: she has to make him fall in love with her in order to get the weapon that she needs to kill him (at least I think it’ll kill him, I’m a little unclear there--stabbing him in the heart with nine nails seems at least fairly unpleasant). So she embarks on the third and fourth versions of her relationship with Tantai Jin simultaneously: a growing loving, romantic relationship that she has to do a good enough job developing to get what she needs to utterly betray him. 

The thing is, Susu isn’t that good of an actress. As she does all the things she thinks she needs to do to get Tantai Jin to fall in love with her (shout out to our romance advice queen Pian Ran), she also falls for him. She also knows that Tantai Jin’s love for her is entirely real because every time his love for her grows, she gets another nail. He’s not faking it. He’s telling her the truth. To keep going, she has to lie to herself convincingly enough to imagine a future with him in which he’s a good person and they love each other, and do all the things she needs to do to bring that future into being. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to manage it. But she also has to be ready to destroy that imaginary future that feels more and more real to her as her relationship to Tantai Jin grows in order to prevent the worse future, the end-of-the-world future, from happening (or so she thinks). To do that, she has to be prepared to break his heart. And if she admits to herself that she loves him and she’s not just pretending for the mission, then she has to be prepared to break her own heart as well to do it. 

So, as things stand now: Susu hates, loves, fears, wants to protect, and has to kill Tantai Jin, all at the same time. It’s a wonder she’s not more of a mess. 

Also, I haven’t read the novel, but if/when Susu betrays Tantai Jin, not only will he have to deal with the immediate betrayal of the stabbing, if he ever finds out that she came back in time *solely* to stop him and that her love was all a ruse from the very beginning, it really is going to be the betrayal to end all betrayals. Should be fun. 

[compacflt]

do you ever think about/write about how maverick threw goose’s dog tags into the ocean? the letterboxd reviews have me thinking again.

yeah that was literally one of the first little things august 2022 me petulantly retconned . fuck that . he kept one.

in my (and many other ppls) opinion those weren’t mavs to throw away they should’ve stayed with carole

and (i try not to talk about this as much as possible but) it suggests Something about mav & goose’s relationship that the filmmakers thought his dog tags should go to mav instead of to Goose’s wife (though i acknowledge and appreciate the usefulness of the visual metaphor of him saying goodbye to goose at the end of TG) (though that visual metaphor was rendered completely moot by the whole of TGM showing that mav HASNT moved on from goose and only moves on once he has the chance to save roosters life [which is why i retconned it])

ALSO? i am sure I’m not the first person to talk about this? But, to add a second layer of confusion & analysis, uh, the dogtags mav throws into the ocean aren’t goose’s.

I’m reading “metcalf, mike” from the backside. Those are VIPER’s dogtags. for some reason.

now i choose to believe that’s a props issue… someone grabbed the wrong set of tags & they were like ehhh no one will notice… script supervisor not doing their fucking job… so i choose to believe the filmmakers MEANT goose’s dogtags & it doesn’t change the end of the movie for me.

But im interested to hear from you—does that change/add anything to anyone’s analysis to know that mav threw VIPER’s tags into the ocean? there are a lot of really weird implications that come from taking what is probably a props fuck-up at face value!!! (Viper giving mav his tags [weird], viper being mav’s surrogate dad figure, thereby this scene becomes about mav saying goodbye to his FATHER finally,.. etc.)

[muzzleroars]

Bit of a stretch but I like to think that V2 is just chilling in the apartment while all this Michael stuff is happening, disassociating from the issue.

What happens to them anyway?

SO...SO CLEARLY….some development has gone on with v2 lately, but first point is that i do have it living apart from gabe and v1 in its own space, though v2 has more crash points for itself – it likes to change its environment sometimes, but its most lived in spaces are in fraud (for the company – largely it’s getting used to gabriel, but things with v1 are still strained at best...v1 is making an effort at least, so it’s something) and in lust (due to the human influence there – limbo is far too artificial for its liking). v2 is largely coming to terms with the idea that its dream of peace is one that will never be realized, and for now is feeding its studious nature in hopes that maybe there can still be some place for it that won’t see its potential entirely wasted. gabriel does keep it in the loop with anything it needs to know, so it’s made aware of michael and the prime souls as threats which prove to be big headaches – in time, i do like the idea it’s one of the few machines minos won’t engage on sight given v2’s particular attachment to humanity, but at first? it shuffles itself off grudgingly into the uncanny valley of limbo to avoid him. WHICH. is where it meets michael.

i very much like the idea that michael basically tries to fuck around with lust and finds out, not fully realizing how badly he’s injured when he fights against minos as it was meant to be a more fact-finding mission to assess the power of a prime soul. however, since his sensation is completely fucked, minos takes a lot more out of him than he meant to allow (he direly underestimated the amount of damage a prime soul can do in a short amount of time), and he only recognizes that when his wings have difficulty getting him off the ground, his movements becoming far too slow. the good news for him is that he’s still fully capable of teleporting to retreat...he just doesn’t get very far with how drained he is and how limited his light has become. he lands in limbo and almost immediately collapses, though knowing he’s safe even just a layer up since he won’t be pursued. except. when mike is passed out, he basically looks like a forest floor corpse, and that’s pretty much exactly what v2 takes him as upon finding him. it’s instantly utterly fascinated by him, as angelic carcasses aren’t exactly common, and it starts poking around to study his necrobiome which is actually a welcome sight in the artificiality of limbo. it didn’t even KNOW plants like this could grow in hell...but perhaps that speaks to the unique properties of an angel’s body. it delicately begins to catalog the species it can see, careful not to damage the still well-preserved internal anatomy since it’s been tricky finding many sources on the insides of angels, but most of all it sort of just. marvels at him. it’s like an entire little living world in hell, flowers, moss, fungus, and even insects all clinging to the body and nothing around it. much more beautiful than the rest of limbo anyway.

it spends a couple hours like this until it decides to remove his helmet in hopes of finding a decent-looking head beneath it (gabe’s so cagey about it) – unfortunately just the first gentle tug is enough to snap mike awake and instinctively grab at v2’s arm, scaring the living shit out of it!!! YEA there’s plenty of fucked up guys in hell, but this one has a whole ecosystem!!!! he looks like he’s been lying there for weeks!!!! and yet...with a split-second more thought, this is by far more interesting than the alternative, and v2 scuttles to catch up to michael trying (and failing) to drag himself away from it, black, bile-like ichor coughed up from the cracks in his helmet. he needs help. and while michael’s pride and hatred initially dismiss v2’s pestering entirely, i think he gets worn down for a few reasons coupled with a dull, sometimes now faulty mind – v2 speaks and reasons, and it expresses a clear desire to help despite mike being a pretty easy source of blood at the moment (he knows even that is rancid, but apparently the machines can still get something out of it). additionally, it extends that offer into understanding him, into possibly providing him answers that even heaven has failed to produce...and michael wants that more than he wants anything. more than punishing the sinners left, more than reinstating god’s will, more, perhaps, than finding god himself by now. he just wants to know what happened and if anyone can save him. it’s sinful, it’s selfish, but he’s so exhausted and all he feels is the rot infecting every inch of his body inside and out. and so he stops. and it’s an evil thing, looking to answers from something never touched by god. but maybe that’s why he accepts, because while he doesn’t consciously admit to it, god’s kingdom has failed him.

SO v2 gets a great science experiment trying to figure out what happened to michael, which the two are incredibly secretive about for obvious reasons – v2 learns a bit later this is the michael is was supposed to avoid (oops) while michael CLEARLY doesn’t want anyone ever knowing he would be seeing a machine for help and advice. this causes a lot of friction whenever they meet, yet because of everything i mentioned in that earlier ask, they start bonding without recognizing it or fully committing to it. they are both desperately lonely and trying to recover from losing the maker they had been so dedicated to, a dedication so powerful in both of them that they had destroyed themselves for it. AND LISTEN. NOT TO GET TOO LOST IN IT BUT. i think it’s quietly life-altering for mike when v2 expresses genuine belief that he’s beautiful as he is now. everyone is so afraid to look at him. he’s afraid. but v2 isn’t, not in the slightest as it takes in every part of him and freely offers its amazement, touches him without any hesitation. and while v2 basically just meant as an opinion, they both immediately realize how it’s taken and are like uh oh!!!!!!!! oh fuck oh no!!!!!!! they’re in it now and are actually in a little deep!!!!

[weightedblankettt]

nicovid works well platonically but i really like it romantically. taking someone who’s desperate to survive (nico) and pairing them with someone who views his own life as worthless (david) is already an interesting dynamic, but when its paired up with their actual personalities it just adds a layer of bittersweetness to it. nico, someone who’s been tormented their entire life, and david, who’s basked in the attention of everyone around him for years. nico, who was bullied for being themselves, and david, who was praised for being someone else. nico, who’s shy, david, who’s outgoing at first but slowly devolves into someone cynical. i do like their dynamic pre-freakout, its very cute and could lead to nico breaking out of their shell, i find their post-freakout dynamic much more interesting. nico and david both have a common denominator: they did something bad and will most likely be ostracized because of it. seeing as they both know how it feels to be set aside as the odd one out (nico through their bullying, david through never feeling as if his true feelings are enough for others) and they both have similar character relationships. (disdain towards ace, fallen-through friendship with hu). i feel like given david’s clear self-esteem issues, nico’s blunt manner of speech won’t be seen as insulting by david, and that lets them learn how to speak their mind. i see their dynamic as someone who wraps himself in a lie, and one of the only people that can see through him. even during the trial, nico’s one of the three people out of the cast of 13 students attending the second trial that notices david’s bullshitting about killing arei, alongside the protag and the support. idk if this is plot armoring my favs or whatever but i do think that nico can read people well, similarly to the animals they work with (considering their occupation: pet *therapy*) and david’s tendency to lie might not really fool them. they can both depend on each other when they need to, but they also do have their own problems and stuff. their development in canon chapter 3 could be interesting if they do end up talking to each other, especially if nico does end up becoming a chapter three victim. another thing that really intrigues me about them is how they’ve both committed an irredeemable action. david’s trying to get them all killed by pretending to have killed arei after all, and nico tried to kill ace. they’re both one of the “bad people” of the second chapter, and i can heavily emphasize (empathy =/= sympathy by the way.) despite their contrasting personalities and themes. it emphasizes how anyone is capable of doing bad, even someone seemingly kind and timid or someone seemingly well-intentioned. nico really has no room to speak on david’s shortcomings and vice versa, and i doubt that either of them want to. they provide each other with a safe space that neither of them really deserve, but it’s still comfortable to have and they enjoy it. david, although his nihilistic tendencies are on display, probably still can’t help but accommodate for nico if they ever started dating or going out. maybe not immediately after— he’d probably still be cruel, but nico wouldn’t really mind. they both let each other say what they’re thinking freely, without caring much for their words, but one thing leads to another and they cant help but fall in love. they both accommodate for each other. nico tries to help david with his honesty and his feelings, because they can’t control their own feelings OR how honest they are (even if its insulting,) and david takes care of nico when they can’t take care of themselves. gaah i lovw them.

this sounds insane? thats because it is. i dint know what the fuck im takjing about but they make me happy and sad. their entire dynamic can be described as one thing: bittersweet

[darling-devils-advocate]

Under the Veil of Darkness Au Guide

This post contains spoilers for the fic being written on Ao3! Read with caution. More info and art will be added as it’s developed.

Story

In the 1970’s, Joey Drew, a kind man filled with dreams, dabbled in the occult to bring the brain child of him and Henry to life. Bendy was the first toon to be created. He was perfect in every way. The only problem was that he’d need a place to stay after hours. Sammy decided to volunteer himself to be Bendy’s caregiver.

Since that day, he’s seen a side of Bendy that the toon has shown no one else. Later on, the musician finally confront the toon about it and finally receives confirmation that Bendy is in fact a demon simply playing a character.

Sammy, blinded by awe, makes the mistake of trusting the demon and becomes his unwilling servant. Over time, lots of blood of blood split and ink drank, the Ink Demon corrupts Sammy’s mind, turning him into a blood thirsty fanatic willing to do everything asked of him.

The Ink Demon turns the studio into his playhouse to terrorize all the lovely little souls trapped inside. It truly is a Hell on Earth.

Characters

Sammy Lawrence: 43, 6’1, he/him

Sammy is the living definition of a tourtured artist. As much as he may hide it under thick layers of sarcasm, rudeness and pessimism, he suffers with depression, trust issues and a touch of ocd. Sammy pushes everyone away and keeps to himself as much as he can either by spitting insults or out right telling them to leave him alone.

Despite his prickly exterior, there have been a handful that manage to get to his soft inside. He’ll never let anyone else in.

Joey Drew: 65, 5’9, he/him

Joey’s a jolly old man filled with nothing but kindness and generosity for others. His biggest dream was to bring smiles to as many people as possible through something he created. With the help of his best friend, Henry, he did just that and loves every second of it. Joey believes there's good in everyone and is very forgiving. He's the equivalent to a old golden retriever with lots of money to spare and a few dark secrets kept locked away.

(No ref available yet)

Henry Stein: 64, 5'11, he/him

Henry is a soft soul with the patience of a saint. He's the first to offer words of wisdom and console those who need it. He's very easygoing, preferring to let things roll off his back and enjoy the moment rather than hold grudges or onto the past. Ever since he moved to California with Linda, he became the outdoorsy type and spends most of his time out in nature.

(No ref available yet)

Bendy: ???, 3'5, he/him

This little prankster adores getting up to no good and having all eyes on him. Nothing beats telling lies, pitting people against each other and watching chaos unfold! Bendy is like a mischievous little cat running around just waiting for the perfect moment to bother you and skitter away after the deed has been done. Sometimes, his antics can feel like they're just a tad bit malicious... Keep a spray bottle on hand around him.

Boris the Wolf: ???, 4'5, he/him

Boris is the goodest of boys you could ever ask for. There's not a single bad bone in his furry body, he could never bring himself to hurt a fly. For a wolf, he's more cowardly than he'd like to admit but he tries his hardest to be brave for his friends. Boris doesn't speak as much as the other toons does. He's perfectly happy tagging along with them and playing his clarinet.

Alice Angel: ???, 4'2, she/her

Just like her name, Alice is just as kind as an angel. She's very polite and loves to help others whenever she can. Even with her angel status, even she can't help but get up to no good sometimes. She prides herself on her looks and neatness, unlike a certain imp running around the studio. While she gets along with everyone just fine, Bendy brings out the worst in her sometimes.

A demon and his creations

The Ink Demon (Malice): ???, 7'2 (11'4 as beast), he/it

The true face of the studio's beloved star. Free from having to act like a cartoon, the demon's thirst for blood and violence can finally shine through. Malice thrives on entertainment and gore, stopping at nothing to get what he wants. He has no regard for the emotions of others (aside from Sammy) unless he can use it against them. He's arrogant, selfish and dramatic as all hell.

Everything is a game to him and he is the one in control of it.

The Prophet (aka The Reaper) ???, 7'1, he/it

This creature is the husk of what Sammy used to be, driven mad with the demon's whispers and finally swept into the loving embrace of ink. Due to 'circumstances', the Prophet's frontal and parietal lobes were severely damaged to the point where rebirth could not fully fix it. Because of this along with his fanaticism, he's highly unstable and dangerous to be around, even to his own kind. He's unpredictable and violent.

Parts of who he used to be still linger underneath his new, blessed skin.

The Angel: ???, 5'10, she/it

Bendy hated Alice so he took what she loved most about herself. Faceless and horrific, the Angel resides in the lower floors of the studio guiding innocents deeper into the depths. Despite being remade in the Ink Demon's design, she is the least hostile out of his creations. There is one thing that sets her apart from the rest, she just has to be reminded of it.

Something is familiar about her title, she just doesn't know why.

The Wolf: ???, 4'11 at shoulder, it/its

Boris was never a real wolf. Too cowardly, too sweet, too gentle. Malice corrected him, turning him into a massive, hulking beast of a wolf. Everything that made Boris himself his completely stripped away. Well, aside from the obedience

Relationships

Joey was a married man (at the time) with a kid that picked up Sammy off the street one day and fell in love with him. He'd actively court him and managed to bed him multiple times behind his wife's back. Sammy would sometimes flirt back but he'd never return the affection.

Sammy met Henry through Joey and very, very slowly developed a crush on him. Henry never noticed but Joey did. The musician never made any advances or purposely showed interest in pursuing him, especially since he was married. After Henry Moved, Sam cut himself off from considering romance. Joey never stopped trying to court him even after his divorce.

Henry was stuck in the middle of the mess, not interested in either side. He's perfectly happy with Linda.

With the Ink Demon in the picture, Sammy's fanaticism and reverence turned into love. He's subtle with it and goes only as fast as he's allowed to since he's aware Malice doesn't understand some emotions well and tends to shut himself off or lashes out when it comes to experiencing them.

The Ink Demon himself rejects all feelings love and passes them off as just being possessive over his things. Although there are moments where he allows himself to be tender with Sammy, they are often followed up with hurting him (biting, scratching) to make it seem like he isn't displaying affection. Even a demon like him can deny his feelings for so long.

Both sides come to a boiling point and finally tear into each other. Their dynamic and behavior towards each other doesn't change aside from allowing more affection and nights together.

Depths of the Ink

There are many creatures dwelling in the ink waiting for their next meal, including the ink itself. Something once used to create art is used as a weapon.

Widows are one of the smallest beasts to come from the depths. The queen lays eggs in clutches of 20-30 twice a day, they hatch within minutes of being laid. Each clutch contains a very small number of special eggs containing an infection brewed by the Ink Demon himself. The regular widows are no real threats that can easily be taken care of. The ones carrying the infection are a different story. A single puncturing bite is all it takes to spread it to the host. After infecting someone, it can no longer spread it and it will die within hours of the bite.

Immediately after being bitten, the site will be inflamed and painful. Hours after is when it starts to ooze a deep red, almost black liquid and veins become visible around it. The host will start to feel like they have the beginning of a fever.

After one day has passed, the fever symptoms will become worse with the addition of minor auditory hallucinations and mental fragility. The infection site is becoming necrotic and spreading. Cutting off the effected area will not stop it from spreading, it's fully in the hosts bloodstream.

After the second day has passed, auditory, visual and tactile hallucinations are tearing down the hosts remaining stability. Bodily tissue both around the site and in other places of the body are rotting off, the open wounds ooze a black liquid. Motor skills and communication are still possible but maybe be erratic or incomprehensible. Widows tend to follow the infected, eating their decayed flesh.

On the third and final day, the host is a convulsing mess that is unable to do anything but breathe and look around. The Reaper comes for them, they are ready to be reborn as one of the Ink Demon's creations.

Lost Ones are the result of the infected being reborn. Depending on how much of their body necrosed, the reborn may end up as a Searcher or as a small sacrifice to be offered by fellow Lost Ones. Some retain memories from their past life and dissent against Malice. They are often killed by their own kind or by humans who do not trust them, but most often by the Prophet.

Most are rather docile, watching from their place or spreading the word of the Ink Demon, while others don't take kindly to heretics (humans) wandering the sacred grounds of the studio. Surprisingly, they don't live in a hive mind. Some are devout followers of the Dark Lord while others only fear the power he has, they are free to make their own choices.

The only reason they are allowed to do so is for the sake of the Demon's entertainment.

Lurkers are spiked tentacles hiding in ink drenched surfaces. They are most commonly found in pools or in deep cracks in the walls. While not obvious to the common person, anyone who has dealt with them know to listen for gurgling and hissing. Lurkers attack the first thing that comes within direct range or contact with it, lashing out and wrapping around its prey until it dies from lacerations, drowning or asphyxiation. It'll pull the corpse into its hiding spot and feast on it. The easiest way to safely cross their path is to give it something else to attack.

Many creatures may stalk the unfortunate people locked inside but none is worse than being stalked by the Prophet. He may follow from the shadows, hardly making a sound for hours and his prey would never know. Once he's spotted, he switches from following at a distance to behaving like a weeping angel (only moving when you're not looking) with his axe brandished and ready to spill blood in the name of his lord.

The Well is where all stolen souls are held captive. Deep pools of ink house the Well. Any ink creatures aside from lurkers, the Prophet, the Wolf and the Angel that fall into the well permanently lose whatever part of them broke the surface should they manage to escape. If they fully submerge, their body is torn to shreds and left to rot with the other souls. It's rumored that the whispers heard from the ink are the last thoughts of the person who fell victim. Many are blood curdling screams.

And finally, the ink machine. The start of it all. Until Malice was made, the machine was harmless. He tainted all of the ink flowing through it with his power, rendering it the new birthing pool for his creations. With tainted pipes lacing the entire studio, it allows Malice to bleed his influence into the very surface of the walls, changing it to his liking. The machine resides in the deepest part of the demon's lair where he designs and brings all of his creatures to life. The machine itself isn't needed to bring them to life, it just keeps the ink flowing in a steady supply. Turning it off or destroying it won't do anything but put a target on your back.

˚꒦꒷━━━━━━━☙⛤❧━━━━━━꒷꒦˚

hopefully this is good enough for people to get a grasp for what im going for without outright saying everything. i do plan on making lots more art for this (funny i say this considering how fast i draw things differently from their ref) and developing the world a lot more since this version of the au is still fairly new (v3 babyyy) and finally working on finishing the fic someday. if you have any questions im more than happy to answer them :)

[nonsensicalsoliloquy]

Ooh, please tell me more about Alien Kylo and Broodmare Hux!

(from WIP FOLDER game)

Hello, my dear, thanks for the ask!! I’m both appreciative and not surprised by your interest in my ‘Kylux AU—Alien Kylo and Broodmare Hux’ XD

This WIP is actually where my response to this last sentence tag game came from!

-

First off, and most importantly, this is a filthy, ridiculous, purely self-indulgent PWP idea, and being both me and the fact I’ve let it sit in my head for well over a year, AND like 95% of that is STILL IN MY HEAD, it took on some attempts at sense and a touch of ‘plot’. Which is why ‘bullshitting alien medical science’ became much more of a thing than just because ‘this is reeeaaalllyy straining realistic credulity’ smut.

To be, uh, short:

General Hux and a group of his men were ‘captured’ after leaving a small, secluded FO base when they accidentally entered a corner of restricted space and, for the infraction, are to become a new batch of soon to be breeding hosts for a powerful and intelligent species who need compatible beings to both bear their young, as well as assist in heat cycles where the eggs they lay are not to be fertilized but need a partner to lay them in. (Alien) Kylo is (and comes from a family line) high up in the wealthy and influential ranks, so he’s one often offered first pick of partners when new batches (in his city) are ready. He doesn’t always take them up on it, but this time he does, as he’d had his eyes on Hux since they arrived.

Thus Hux’s new life takes on a second layer. Not just an alien species’ broodmare, but that of a seemingly high-ranking member of their elite.

Aaaaand…yeah. That was pretty much the initial PWP oneshot idea. The plot growth part developed more of Kylo’s background (just a tad) as well as his interest in Hux; some of the observations, experiences, and a bit of past for Hux; the ‘medical bullshit’ background for the hows and whys this is/can happen; as well as a future beyond that evident smut-a-palooza.

To be.. a little longer:

So, Alien Kylo here is not related at all to his canonverse background. There is still the Force, though it’s not touched on much, and his family line, etc. does still exist in a sense, but if you had to apply it in some form of vague parallel with ‘canon’, it’s a little more along the lines of Naboo/Kylo Amidala au stuff.

I haven’t figured out a name for his species nor their planet yet, but they’re an old, huge, well-developed, and wealthy planet with big influence in both above and below board trades. i.e. they work with respectable people in the Core and people like the First Order. One of several reasons for this is because they’re a prominent source of and power in medical research and development fields – not only for themselves, but numerous other species. This being because, a millennia(?) or so ago, their race was facing growing infertility issues, ones that could threaten to drive them to extinction.

In Kylo’s species, both males and females are capable of impregnating and being impregnated. They also are a species that lay eggs in their partner’s’ wombs (during heat periods with no intention to fertilize, as well as when wanting to do so). While working toward figuring out the reasons for the fertility decline, plus obviously helping their own, they simultaneously searched to find compatible species to serve as surrogate wombs.

One of the few compatible species are human males.

As for the appearance of Kylo’s species, they’re Dragon-like, though still not fully ‘developed’ yet in my head. Larger than your average human for sure, but typically not so much so that it’s outlandish. Kylo, of course, is larger than his usual, in both height and breadth. Their species is humanoid in form and relatively so in features; with things like a set of horns, longer tongues and sharper teeth, retractable claws and areas with scales and a change in skin color/tone/toughness, and sometimes eyes with black sclera. Also, of course, their (male) dicks are usually on the huge side and ridged (in all the 'right' ways XD) and they don’t really have testicles so much as a smaller sac/pouch in that general area that expands somewhat with eggs when in heat and preparing to lay them in a partner.

OH, on a filthy side note to the filthy filth: all ‘breeding partners’ are arranged in rooms where the walls are lined by, essentially, fancy glory holes. For all the crew to stick their asses out of for these alien VIPs (at first) to make use of. Yuuup… There will be SOME TAGS on this thing when it’s done.

Soooo… yeah. That was a lot of ‘teaser’ for what’s supposed to be a ridiculously self-indulgent, stupidly filthy PWP. Honestly, I got way too into those hows and whys with regard to the alien biology nonsense. Probably a bunch of stuff that won’t even end up in the fic whenever I get around to actually finishing it (or just writing more than a few freaking paragraphs :'C ).

Thank you again! :D

[anna-dreamer]

(I apologize in advance that this one is rather angry. I am in a dark mood, and it's not hard to see why.) So, about predetermined morality and second chances. It got me thinking about Lay of Leithian the rock opera, in the way it exists in Skazki iteration. I took me a while to warm up to it for many different reasons, and one of those reasons was its opening number. I remember, before i saw the whole show, watching a YouTube video with just that song. I didn't like it because it was Námo's number. I still hold the same feelings over this creative decision, although i do really love Polina's direction and many thigs in LoL are now dear to me.

I really don't think Námo is the right character to present this story to the audience, for this story is not his. The Lord of Doom, the cold and reclusive Vala, the one who says things like Not the first, he doesn't get to say something like Слушайте, люди, песню о Лэйтиан. He is not the one who reaches out and shares, he is not the one who narrates and empathizes, he is not the one who releases from bondage - he is the judge, he is the restrictor, and he is the jailer, he is an antagonist to anyone who challenges the Fate. (Well, to most people.) And here lies my issue. This opening number is supposed to explain to the audience why the narrative they are about to witness is a meaningful, worthwhile story. First of all, the characters of it suffered like no others (more than you people, honestly i am not fond of this implication) because they blazed the trail to a new kind of fate. Second of all, they walked a tough path, they did not know what to expect, a lot of times they struggled against a powerful current of fate (though it rather sounds like it picked them up and carried them). That is why we remember them to this day. And you too should remember these great characters; but you also should remember that their deeds made the Black Crown roll onto the ground; you should remember those sacramental lines we love to repeat, мрак не вечен and Враг не всесилен. And now pray tell me, Námo, what does any of this have to do with you?! Wasn't it you along with other Valar who let the Enemy out? Wasn't it you who was supposed to protect Arda from him - and failed to do so? Wasn't it you who abandoned in to fight the Enemy in a hopeless battle which was your responsibility in the first place? You don't get to join in with those who actually suffered, you don't get to claim you share their plight. You are the reason they suffered. One could argue that Námo was convinced by Lúthien, that she showed him the error of his ways, he learned a lesson, hence him opening LoL with those words. Except this is not what happened. Lúthien was singled out by Námo in the first place supposedly because "somehow" she did not find peace in Mandos. Námo, of course, says that there has never been such a case before - yet i will never buy that. In those very Halls Míriel Þerindë abides, and her son Fëanor, and her husband Finwë - those three already hold so much unresolved grief i find it really hard to believe they are just chilling, all good, no problem whatsoever. Not to mention all those elves who never wanted to go to Aman in the first place and must be really struggling in that valarin brainwashing machine! Mandos is not a happy place, and yet only Lúthien somehow gets Námo to listen. Why? I honestly feel like he listened because Narrative Bias, because it is just this kind of story, because Love Conquers All and all that jazz. That is bad enough because SO MANY OTHERS deserve a chance, not mercy even but actual justice, yet only Beren and Lúthien get it because of this prebuilt morality. They are worthy because they are worthy. We are not supposed to question it. Nevermind that everyone else gets to be effectively cast as unworthy ones. But there is another layer, and it is not exactly text-based, but my current reality is such that this reading becomes inescapable. By taking it upon himself to explain LoL to us Námo appropriates its narrative in order to absolve himself of any responsibility. He praises Beren and Lúthien and gives lip service to all the things that people he oppresses actually want - safety, freedom to choose their own fate, a brighter future, the Enemy defeated. Yet the truth is he is the reason and the enabler of such a reality where hardly any of it happens. I hate this. The opening number to Lay of Leithian belongs not to a Vala - but to a human narrator. If we must take inspiration in a biased story about Tolkien's favorite lovebirds, then let us at least do it on our own terms.

[thought-42]

It gets harder every year

Star Wars, 2050 words, Luke Skywalker, Ezra Bridger Luke has acquired a Mandalorian and is maybe panicking a little. It's fine. He nows a guy. Set in a universe where Ezra wound up in the Chiss Ascendancy post-Rebels and eventually he and Luke became like. Space internet friends. Don't worry about it. *

Luke Skywalker, pinnacle of Jedi calm and patience, only does four laps around the school while he waits for his comm signal to work its way through seven layers of encryption and a long string of relay nodes stretching across lightyears, vast and unknowable, between his current location and his target.

“No,” Laezra says as soon as he picks up. His little hologram is blurry and half a second out of sync with the audio, but Luke can still see the way his hair is flattened on one side and standing straight up on the other, and he's holding the comm in such a way that his (probably bare) chest is out of frame. There is, perhaps, a timezone issue Luke should have taken into account.

“You're so rude,” Luke says. “This could be an emergency.”

“Is it?”

“The point is that it could be. And you, my only peer, my only fellow Force user, you who stand in brotherhood with me against a harsh and uncaring universe–”

“Your sister exists and is literally a princess”

“What value does the royal title hold within the forced diaspora, really? Also the last time I asked if she wanted to meditate she threatened to tell someone I don't pay taxes.”

“That's an actual criminal crime, for the record. What kind of example are you setting for your students?”

“I have two students,” Luke says. “One of whom I'm related to. Besides, didn't you meet your master in the middle of a criminal crime?”

“It's not a crime if it pisses off the Empire,” Laezra says automatically, then, “Luke, please. I am so tired. There was a whole... thing. I haven't slept in my own bed for three weeks. My student had to use her lightsaber in actual combat for the first time. I had to side with my commanding officer against my mentor, even though the asshole was absolutely in the right, and I'm feeling some kinda way about it. Sometimes preemptive action is good, actually, but don’t tell anybody I said that.”

“Sorry,” says Luke. “Is she ok? Your student, I mean.” Laezra still refuses to tell Luke the name of his or his fellow Navigator Jedi's student, and wierd trust issues aside, it makes conversation grammatically difficult sometimes.

“Yeah. We're ok. We were both doing twelve hour shifts on the way home, though, because I guess ‘we aren’t Sky Walkers’ doesn’t mean ‘we aren’t Sky Walkers’ when the ship’s actual Sky Walker is made of germs and fever and barf. Then it becomes ‘jump-by-jump is so inefficient, this information is so critical, everybody’s so tired. Have you ever had the experience of getting nosebleed blood crusted in your beard? BecauseI don’t recommend it.”

Between Leia and Laezra, Luke knows enough classified information to sink two major governments. Or at least inconvenience them a lot. 

"Ok, ok, ok," Luke decides he's going to sit down on the grass,and only realises it’s still wet from the afternoon rainstorm once his pants are already soaked. “So. Listen. You know things.”

“Wild,” Laezra says flatly. “Is this how you write report cards at your school?”

Luke glares down at the little hologram. “You know things about Mandalorians,” he clarifies. He decides he's gonna stand back up, and while he's at it he may as well do a few more laps.

“I-- Luke. Luke you can't tell me I'm the only person you know who knows a Mandalorian. Who I am, just so we're super clear, still on pretty shaky footing with, given my whole... everything.”

Luke waves this off. He is very over Laezra having fucked off on actual Purrgils, never to return, less than a year before Luke discovered he was a space wizard and could have really desperately used some support in that from someone who wasn't a hundred years old and a friend of his father's. It's so fine. He definitely doesn't lie awake imagining being one half of a pair of Jedi, back when the Rebellion had felt huge and overwhelming and kind of terrifying. Some people blow up a massive space station/doomsday weapon full of living beings (twice) and hold their evil dad in their arms while he dies. Some people ride away in a burst of martyrdom on their bffs the legendary space whales. Some people live alone but for two little kids in the ruins of a temple that they call a school, desperately trying to rebuild an entire religious and cultural institution from barely legible texts and ghosts. Some people live in another galaxy and embark on exciting new projects for an alien government where they get to research brand new Force techniques and go on adventures and live in an apartment where they can just walk across the street and buy fresh pastries whenever they want to.

Jedi do not feel envy. Jedi do not feel resentment. Jedi are always well aware that the grass is perpetually greener.

“I have a Mandalorian now,” Luke says, instead of any of this.

“Like, you... have obtained one? Are you feeding them? They need so much exercise, I cannot emphasise this enough.”

Luke puts his comm on the ground so he can drop his face into his hands. “He gave me? His kid? But also I think he's the king of the Mandalorians, and he keeps stopping by for visits, and I don't want to mess up.”

“This is so much,” Laezra says. “This is so much. Luke Skywalker, are you crushing on the Mand’alor?”

“Calling you was a mistake,” Luke says.

“Calling me was the opposite of a mistake, oh my God. What House? What Clan? I ask like the answer will mean anything to me, but like..... it might.”

“His name's Din,” Luke says. “I don't know if I'm supposed to tell people that.”

“And have you and Din..... you know?”

“He doesn't take his helmet off,” Luke says, helplessly. “Except once, and I think that was... not ideal. For him.”

“But was it ideal for you– sorry, sorry. Ok. Was he an Academy kid?”

“I don't think so,” Luke says. “He barely knew anything about the war. He didn't know who I was. He has a lightsaber that he really doesn't want to have, though.”

“Wait. Wait. So he's like.... the real deal. You're having sexy parent/teacher interviews with the legit Mand’alor.”

“I'm not having sexy anything with anybody,” Luke says.

“That's so sad, my guy. But hey, keep on trucking. I bet you can seduce him with your farmboy charms.”

“His son eats frogs,” says Luke. “I caught him a whole bucket full to take with him last time Din came to take him on a trip.”

“You just. ...handed the Mand’alor a bucket of frogs and his kid? ‘Have a good time, gang!’ You’re my very favourite little guy, Luke.”

“I think most of them escaped inside his ship,” Luke admits. “Which, actually, let me tell you about his kriffing ship–”

“Why am I perpetually surrounded by pilots? Luke, look at me. Look me in the eye. I don't care about his ship. Tell me about his cute kid or his dick or the actual ass Darksaber. Do not tell me about his ship.”

“It's very bad, though. It’s a bad ship and he should feel bad about it, he lets his child ride around in it, and I know for a fact his fuel injectors were recalled–”

“So were you hoping I'd... know the Mando dating cheat codes, or something?” Laezra says loudly.

Luke frowns. “I want to get to know him as a person. I'm his son's teacher. It'd be inappropriate for me to ... do anything. I'm just hoping I can maybe be a bit more culturally sensitive.”

Luke's only ever seen one propper, full-colour picture of Laezra that isn't a blue light holocall; there’s a holo on General Syndulla’s desk of a grinning teenager, limbs gawky and eyes that reminded Luke of the feral tookas he was never allowed to take home during trips into town as a kid. Even so, it's easy for Luke to picture the other man sitting in the dark of his bedroom, shoving his hands back through his hair as he groans. Luke wonders if he's the kind of person who needs to have everything unpacked and in its place when he comes home from a mission, or if he's more the 'dump bag and clothes on floor, fall face first onto nearest flat surface' type. It's probably a weird thing to wonder, but it's the sort of thing Luke knows about all his other friends.

“Ok. Luke.” He drops his hands from his hair and leans in close to his comm, so the top half of his face is all Luke sees, weird and disproportionate as the camera tries to compensate. “I bet you've probably been reading a bunch of old Jedi books or scrolls or cave paintings about the danger of attachment. Maybe your ghosts have lectured you. But that's what they are. Ghosts and old writings. You're starting something new. And-- Kanan. My Master. He loved somebody very much, and she loved him back. And he was the best Jedi I can imagine.”

“You can just say it was General Syndulla,” says Luke, who has only ever seen one mention of attachments in the documents he’s recovered, but doesn’t want to devalue what Laezra is trying to tell him.

“Ok, yeah. They loved each other so much, and I never once saw it interfere with Kanan’s dedication to helping others. To making the galaxy a safer, kinder place. If anything I think she made him better. And vice-versa.”

“I just meant,” Luke says carefully, “that I wouldn't want to risk things not working out and Din not wanting to leave his son here anymore. There's nobody else who will train him. But I’ll keep the other stuff in mind.”

“I have so many things I definitely  don't actually want to say to Ahsoka,” Laezra mutters. “But oh boy am I thinking them.”

Luke presses his lips together. He doesn't know if Laezra knows who Vader was when he was a Jedi. Doesn't know if it'd mean anything to him even if he did know. “She's got some pretty compelling reasons for the choices she makes, he says. "I don’t agree with her, but… I mean. Anybody can become dangerous if attachment gets possessive, but you've gotta admit Force users are especially risky.”

“People just keep making bigger guns,” Laezra points out. “How are they any less dangerous?”

“A gun can't get inside your head and change how you feel. It can't make you do things you wouldn't normally do.”

“Ahahaha,” says Laezra, and his hands go back over his face as he leans away from the camera. “You don't need The Force for that one, either.”

Luke winces. “Anyway,” he says, because he knows most people don't actually want to talk about their feelings, even if that seems super counter-intuitive. Whatever. “How do I become friends with the Mand'alor?”

“You keep saying it and it doesn't get any less unhinged. I don't know. You're already taking care of his kid, and you value family. You're highly skilled in combat. There's really no secret trick to it, just... be a person.”

“I've tried that,” Luke says. “I'm so bad at being a person around him though.”

“Does he like art?” Laezra asks, with a sudden burst of gleeful intensity. “Luke does he like art, this is important. I can tell you so much about art. Do you want to know which chemical combinations are the best for neon colours and also timed explosions? Do you want to know about historical graffiti culture throughout the Outer Rim? Do you want to know how to use the remaining art from the various Mandalorian factions to construct a sociopolitical thesis on their people with a focus on military tactics?”

“You know what," says Luke, "I think I hear the kids calling me.”

“Coward,” Laezra says immediately

“Go back to bed; say hi to your student for me; may The Force be with you bye.”

Laezra is still swearing at him, laughing,when Luke clicks the channel closed.

Luke, with all the dignity befitting the last Jedi Master, opens his notebook and writes 'Ask if he likes art.'

[dresshistorynerd]

i hope this isnt too random and is something you can help me with--i'm needing a reference of someone around the 1870s-1880s running, like a dull on sprint, in a bustle dress. would that even be possible? would she just be lifting the dress part up and have the layers underneath be showing? would she pull up the crinoline (if those were worn at the time, i'm sorry i'm too lazy to research atm) as well? i hope the question isnt too broad or confusing. thank you so much!!!!

Hi! Not at all too broad or confusing question!

I'm assuming you mean the Second Bustle Era dress, since it's the more well known and iconic bustle style. The First Bustle Era was roungly the first half of 1870s, then there was Natural Form Era in the middle and the Second Bustle Era was most of 1880s. The two bustle eras were distinctive in style, but they mostly had similar layers. To illustrate the difference here's a fashion plate from the First Bustle Era and another from the second.

Yes you could run in a bustle dress. As you see especially in the Second Bustle Era dresses, the hem didn't quite reach the ground, which is really the the thing that will get in your way, if it would. As someone who has worn several different full length evening dresses (not very historical though but that's beside the point) and ran and danced in them, I can say the issues only really come when the hem reatches the ground. Then lifting the hem becomes necessary.

A type of cage crinoline was indeed used with the bustle dress, called bustle cage. Unlike the typical crinoline it was only in the back, shaped similarly as 18th century side panniers, because that's where all the volume was, so it wouldn't get in the way when running. There are though some examples of bustle cages that did go all around and simply were more volumous in the back, but I haven't seen any of them being dated into 1880s. The first bustle cage below is from 1887 and the second is from 1870-72.

A full crinoline though actually helps moving around and running. It was one of the reasons why it become so quickly so widely used in 1850s. It carries the fabric of the dresses keeping them away from the feet.

Even when lifting the hem isn't necessary, it's likely that while running the petticoat would show at least a bit. Shift hem wouldn't likely be seen as it was a bit shorter and the first layer. Petticoat was worn over the bustle cage and would help giving the fashionable silhouette, though some skirts would have a foundation skirt attached to them and then separate petticoat wasn't needed. It was most often white and had more volume in the back often in shape of ruffles. Here's couple of examples, first from 1883 and second from 1886.

I thought primary source references could be easiest to find regarding dancing and tennis. I thought it might give a nice range of different types of dresses. I didn't find useful painting of dancing in Second Bustle Era gowns, but this one from the First Bustle Era is close enough, I think.

I found two paintings depicting tennis in bustle gowns, one from the First and another from the Second Bustle Era.

Tennis was played in the typical summer day dress, which for tennis were traditionally white. So the outfit would have all of the layers like you'd normally have and the dress would be from light breethable materials, light cotton usually, and sometimes a little more loose fitting, so it does work as a good reference for how to move in an average day dress.

Lastly I'll link here a video from Prior Attire channel, where she dresses up in about 1885 dress for tennis and demostrates playing tennis in it. It shows really well how that type of dress moves and how you can pretty easily move and run in it without having to really do anything about it. The full demonstration starts around 23:37 mark, but the full video is useful in showing all the layers that goes into it.

[my-random-thoughts-take-13]

Lloyd’s Crystalized character

So I’ve seen a couple of posts about Lloyd in crystalized, particularly about his behaviour towards Garmadon in contrast to Harumi. I agree that it’s weird at first glace, but when you look into it I can see some logic behind it.

Here’s the thing; whenever he’s talking to Harumi he want her to do better. He wants her to change. He wants her to turn good and be happy. I think the main reason he is so adamant to do so (aside from questionable hormones), more so than with other villains, is because in part he really does blame himself for what happened to her. He still blames himself for unleashing the serpentine and letting her family die. He blames himself for failing to stop the snake (we all know he has an unreasonably strong sense of responsibility) and he probably blames himself for not finding her in that rubble and for letting her help the Overlord before he got a chance to talk her out of it. 

Now, whether he is to blame for these things (he clearly isn’t) and whether these feelings are justified (most of them aren’t) is a different story. But in true Lloyd fashion he most definetely would blame himself here, at least a little bit. 

Then when he’s talking to Garmadon we see something different. He becomes cranky, moody, agressive and inconsiderate. He ignores reason and what he knows is true, main example how he knows Mystake was good. 

Now why would he do this?  Because this seems to be the one case where he doesn’t hold himself responsible. He seems to be considering himself the victim. And let’s be honest, as a child with an absent and destructive father, whom he thought was off to who-knows-where without giving a shit about him, he almost definitely is. 

Just think back to march of the Oni for a second, okay? That was the same Garmadon we have now, no sensei to be found. Lloyd worked with him for a day, and what did he do? 

The plan he was sure of failed (not G’s fault though). When Cole died, he brushed it off and didn’t care one bit. He explicitely told Misako how he didn’t care about her anymore. And in the fight? Lloyd saved him from a one on one with the Omega, yet when Lloyd literally died he just noped out and dissapeared. In fact, hey canonically had zero contact in between that scene and Crystalized! 

And now, during a giant crisis Lloyd not only finds out that his father knew it would be coming but kept sending weird vague hints to them instead of just telling, but also that the man that has been missing and wanted was just- living, in the city? RIGHT THERE? WIthout a care in the world, ordering pizza and taking giving more though to a plant then he ever did towards his son? When it had clearly been established multiple times that Lloyd was sensitive about the issue? I mean, just look at the way they talk about him in Questing for Quests and then while deciding who could be the fifth villain. It is clearly a sore topic and his friends make sure to treat it with care.

Not to mention the way he acts when they do see him again. All he does is force Lloyd to do something he is clearly uncomfortable with, something that has layers which all need to be adressed. Instead Garmadon is yelling at him and criticizing everything he’s doing. Yes, we as the audience know that that’s the point of the Oni form, but to Lloyd?

His distant father figure, who serves as a reminder of a man who once cared, even when that man looked like this, is now trying to tear into every bit of selfesteem and certenty he had. 

All those things considered, he has a right to be pissed. 

The main difference in these two cases is that in one he really believes he made a mistake which ruined someone elses life (which is honestly only justifiable for the releasing snakes thing) and really wants to make up for it. He considers himself the problem, and wants to take responsibility by helping his victim through it. In the other case he considers whatever is left of his father the problem. And the problem takes zero action to help his main victim, Lloyd. he may be trying to better himself, but his main victim really got the short end of the stick here.

Sure, considering himself a victim to the point of not giving Garmadon a chance to help other people for once is selfish. But Lloyd really is allowed to be selfish for once. I’m not saying any of his action are right, neither for Garmadon nor Harumi, there’s a lot to be said about both. But from a character standpoint?

When you actually look at it for a bit, through Lloyd’s eyes and with his mentality and urge to help everyone, it makes perfect sense. 

[withacapitalp]

this got so long i'm sorry lol. that post about jonathan hurting steve just reminds me of my number one issue w steve and jonathan/nancy becoming closer which is that the onus is almost always placed on steve to make amends and take that first step w/little to no emphasis on that effort being reciprocated. like, steve apologizes to jonathan for everything in s1 (as he should) and saves his life twice. whether or not you think jonathan should apologize for how intense the fight got is up for debate (i would just like acknowledgement of how seriously he did/almost did hurt steve) but steve def deserves an apology for 1)the photos (which he never got - obv he broke the camera but then he also bought jonathan a new one all w no actual apology to steve on jonathan's part, it wasn't only nancy's privacy he invaded) 2) the fact that he slept w nancy knowing she and steve were still together (which he literally verbally acknowledges when nancy says she waited for him or w/e). that second one obv also goes for nancy bc she also doesn't apologize to steve for leading him on for a year while having feelings for someone else then cheating on him. this isn't me saying jancy are terrible ppl and entirely unsympathetic (nancy is obv v traumatized and struggling w barb's death tho this does not excuse the way she treated steve) but they both did some fucked up shit to steve that ppl rarely make them acknowledge or even feel bad for, which creates a v unbalanced dynamic imo.

Oh boy this did get long!!

So this might just be curating different fandom experiences, but I don't personally see a ton of Steve being the one who has to make amends in fandom or Jonathan and Nancy not having introspection on their pasts. In canon I totally see that though, and it's a lot. Like I think they're all just really human, which I love. They fuck up, and they mistrust, and they have to learn and grow into being close. It isn't automatic.

I think like.......here's my thought process. Apologies are nice. Apologies are good. The right thing to do is always to apologize if you feel like you've wronged someone.

But I also think Steve wouldn't accept it.

Okay I'm putting the rest under a read more because I'm going on a little meta rant on Steve Jonathan Nancy and why apologies are a complicated thing for them and ultimately not what any of them really need.

First Steve because he's my blorbo. Steve is a really interesting character. He has this veneer of extreme self confidence that hides a really soft core of a person that ultimately experiences a significant amount of rejection. He has this brittle exterior that's bitchy and snarky and gives as good as it gets, but things touch him in a deeper way that I think is easy for a lot of people to ignore. I could totally see Jonathan awkwardly trying to bring things up to maybe try and apologize only for Steve to be like nah man we're fine! It didn't work out no biggie, I'm aok, you guys work together and we didn't.

Steve is constantly searching for validation and love (Implied because his parents are neglectful or at the very least have an extremely bad marriage that would be enough to add layers to anything) I think that the bullshit conversation really impacted Steve in a significant way, but if he shared that, then he's leaving himself vulnerable to getting hurt again, so he would do everything in his power to truly make everyone think he's okay, even potentially making himself think he's okay too, when deep down he isn't.

I alsoooo don't really think that Nancy or Jonathan necessarily feel bad. If Steve is pushing so hard to say he isn't hurt, then eventually I could see them not thinking too hard on it. Jonathan because in canon they aren't really friends obviously (Which is a goddamn travesty by the way I wrote an entire series of fics because I hated that they weren't friends) and Nancy because Nancy is an extremely self focused person.

Not selfish. I think it's important to make the distinction between selfish and self-focused. I don't think she's intentionally doing things to hurt the people around her for her own gain, but she thinks about how things effect her and how things impact her first and foremost. Not even just with Steve, but with everyone. A good example of this is in season three when she cost Jonathan his job too with her sleuthing. Her boyfriend who is in a very bad financial situation at home and could have really used a job that actually pertained to his interests and might have lead to future relationships in his industry. She didn't feel bad about that, she was too focused on the injustice to her. Even something as simple as never knocking when he's in the dark room and ruining his pictures over and over.

She just doesn't think about other people, which makes sense! She's a teenager, she's a privileged person, and she's smart as all hell. She gets extremely focused on doing the 'right' thing (according to her rules and her mind because she knows she's smart and thinks she's the smartest in the room always) and she misses doing the best thing a lot of the time.

For Steve, someone who is clearly extremely not self focused-which is also not a great way to be because extremes never are- and Jonathan- Someone who has been forced to put his family first his entire life- that is always going to be a point of conflict in her relationships with them.

But I don't know if we've ever seen Nancy give a genuine apology in the show, and I honestly doubt we ever would. It's not in her character really. But! Regardless of all of that, apology isn't really the end goal. Saying your sorry shouldn't be the end of something. I would much rather see Nancy Steve and Jonathan grow into people with more empathy and ability to own up to their shit/call people out on their stuff in the future rather than rehashing their past again. Unfortunately I have a feeling season five is gonna be a lot of rehashing lmaoooo

[skyecreature]

Artificial Intelligence.

TL;DR. I think AI and Neural Networks are really cool as a technology, but the way they are currently being used is terrible and needs to be stopped.

You don't have to read this, I just wanted to get my thoughts down on paper. Read more block because it's long.

I don't know if there's a formalized definition, but, for the most part, AI is any program or system that can create the illusion of decision-making.

In recent times, it's been used to refer generative AI specifically, but many things could be classified as AI. Minecraft's mobs have to make decisions on how to move. In fighting games, a CPU opponent must decide how to approach the player. Both of these and many others I, and many others, have called AI before. "AI opponents." "The cow's AI is making it spin on the fence." (Weeee!)

More recently, AI is closely employed alongside Neural Networks and Machine Learning. Which is like, basically just a digital simulation of exactly how our brains work. Which I genuinely think is really really cool! You're creating something that can appear smart from only feeding it random numbers and telling if is it's doing good or bad. And from there it eventually becomes something. It's a beautiful execution of mathematics.

Now, somebody realized that, finding data to compare to for this "good" or "bad" was pretty hard to find in bulk. So people made their own data sets. Until those weren't enough. Now, we steal artwork. And herein lies my first problem with AI, as does most people. It's one thing to look at another person's artwork and be like: "oh, that's cool, I want to try copying their art style." I would have no issue with that. (And even so, if I try to copy someone's style, I will always say who.) But that's not what it is. It's taking someone's (or rather, many people, but that doesn't make this any better), and sitting down in a metaphorical classroom to study this artwork as your one and only basis in "learning to draw."

This is basically beating a dead horse, but, like, it's very very sad for me to see something I cared deeply about, (I loved watching Sethbling's videos on 'training a network to beat Mario Bros.' and similar videos, long before the whole AI thing), and now it's become perverted because it's built on a throne of lies, as the saying goes.

My second problem with AI, and while still an echo of much I've seen elsewhere, slightly less so, is that it seems to be a perfect insistence on it being generative, when you could use this technology so much better. I want AI to assist artists, not work against them. What if your paint bucket tool could tell when there was a 1-pixel gap in the fill and, even if not "smart closing" the gap, at least be able to find where it is, because those can be bloody annoying to spot. Or what if you could pull two strokes apart that you put on the same layer 20 minutes ago and didn't notice until now? What if you could just tap in an area to mask your shading brush without carefully lassoing the part you want? There's so many many better ways this technology could be getting used, and I hate it. I hate it so much, that the way it's implemented is "replace," and not "help."

IDK if I'm really trying to make a point with this. I just wanted to get my thoughts out. If you disagree or think I could have worded something better, please leave a reply.