#or even like concept art or anything like that

[anghraine]

Okay, breaking my principles hiatus again for another fanfic rant despite my profound frustration w/ Tumblr currently:

I have another post and conversation on DW about this, but while pretty much my entire dash has zero patience with the overtly contemptuous Hot Fanfic Takes, I do pretty often see takes on Fanfiction's Limitations As A Form that are phrased more gently and/or academically but which rely on the same assumptions and make the same mistakes.

IMO even the gentlest, and/or most earnest, and/or most eruditely theorized takes on fanfiction as a form still suffer from one basic problem: the formal argument does not work.

I have never once seen a take on fanfiction as a form that could provide a coherent formal definition of what fanfiction is and what it is not (formal as in "related to its form" not as in "proper" or "stuffy"). Every argument I have ever seen on the strengths/weaknesses of fanfiction as a form vs original fiction relies to some extent on this lack of clarity.

Hence the inevitable "what about Shakespeare/Ovid/Wide Sargasso Sea/modern takes on ancient religious narratives/retold fairy tales/adaptation/expanded universes/etc" responses. The assumptions and assertions about fanfiction as a form in these arguments pretty much always should apply to other things based on the defining formal qualities of fanfic in these arguments ("fanfiction is fundamentally X because it re-purposes pre-existing characters and stories rather than inventing new ones" "fanfiction is fundamentally Y because it's often serialized" etc).

Yet the framing of the argument virtually always makes it clear that the generalizations about fanfic are not being applied to Real Literature. Nor can this argument account for original fics produced within a fandom context such as AO3 that are basically indistinguishable from fanfic in every way apart from lacking a canon source.

At the end of the day, I do not think fanfic is "the way it is" because of any fundamental formal qualities—after all, it shares these qualities with vast swaths of other human literature and art over thousands of years that most people would never consider fanfic. My view is that an argument about fanfic based purely on form must also apply to "non-fanfic" works that share the formal qualities brought up in the argument (these arguments never actually apply their theories to anything other than fanfic, though).

Alternately, the formal argument could provide a definition of fanfic (a formal one, not one based on judgment of merit or morality) that excludes these other kinds of works and genres. In that case, the argument would actually apply only to fanfic (as defined). But I have never seen this happen, either.

So ultimately, I think the whole formal argument about fanfic is unsalvageably flawed in practice.

Realistically, fanfiction is not the way it is because of something fundamentally derived from writing characters/settings etc you didn't originate (or serialization as some new-fangled form, lmao). Fanfiction as a category is an intrinsically modern concept resulting largely from similarly modern concepts of intellectual property and auteurship (legally and culturally) that have been so extremely normalized in many English-language media spaces (at the least) that many people do not realize these concepts are context-dependent and not universal truths.

Fanfic does not look like it does (or exist as a discrete category at all) without specifically modern legal practices (and assumptions about law that may or may not be true, like with many authorial & corporate attempts to use the possibility of legal threats to dictate terms of engagement w/ media to fandom, the Marion Zimmer Bradley myth, etc).

Fanfic does not look like it does without the broader fandom cultures and trends around it. It does not look like it does without the massive popularity of various romance genres and some very popular SF/F. It does not look like it does without any number of other social and cultural forces that are also extremely modern in the grand scheme of things.

The formal argument is just so completely ahistorical and obliviously presentist in its assumptions about art and generally incoherent that, sure, it's nicer when people present it politely, but it's still wrong.

#this is probably my most pretentious fanfiction defense squad post but it's difficult to express in other terms #like. people talking about ao3 house style (not always by name but clearly referring to it) as a result of fanfic as a form #and not the social/cultural effect of ao3 as a fandom space #you don't get ao3 house style without ao3 itself and you don't get ao3 without strikethrough and livejournal etc #and you don't get those without authors and corporations trying to exercise control over fic based on law (often us law) & myths about law #and you don't get those without distinctly modern concepts of intellectual property and copyright #none of those things have fuck all to do with form! #anghraine rants #fanfiction #general fanwank #long post #thinking about this partly because the softer & gentler versions of fanfic discourse keep crossing my dash #and partly because i've written like 30 pages about a playwright i adore who was just not very good at 'original fiction' as we'd define it #both his major works are ... glorified rpf in our context but splendid tragedies in his #and the idea of categorizing /anything/ in that era by originality of conception rather than comedy/tragedy/etc would be buckwild #ivory tower blogging #anghraine's meta

[atlasundertheworld]

Okay narc abuse this narc abuse that

How bout y'all share your favorite ways to cope with a crash

Here are some of mine

1. I join close knit communities involving my interest/s and am active in them frequently. After a while, the people start recognizing me and when I share something I'm proud of (even if I made it pre-crash) some people will notice and comment on it, which boosts my confidence a little! My art means a lot to me and I tie most of my self worth on it, so people complimenting my art by extension compliment me too. You don't have to be an artist for this, just doing anything you're good at and you love and having people notice this might help you feel a bit better

2. When I'm having a somewhat minor crash (or right after a major crash when I've ridden it out and am feeling a bit better) I go on sprees where I do good stuff for people, I give money to the homeless, I buy gifts for my family members, I compliment a stranger etc, people usually notice this and thank me for it which also helps me feel a bit better about myself (note - I do these things one and off without crashes, but I usually binge-do-good when I'm feeling especially low hahaha) (dunno how much this one works about actually upping your ego, but I personally tie worth as a concept to being a good person, so actively and provably being a good person immediately helps me with perceiving my worth as a human being)

3. Tumblr drafts 😭😭😭😭😭 I've noticed that journaling and venting in my notes doesn't help because nobody sees it and the lack of attention makes me get even worse, and venting to people drives them away from me and makes me uncomfortable so I've avoided venting and I bottle up my emotions a lot which usually actually drives me into a crash in the first place. So I started writing and formatting my vents as actual tumblr posts that I'm totally planning to post, and I tag them and everything, but then I save them as drafts. This way, for some reason, my brain sees this as "yes. You will now post about what's bothering you and many people will see this and like and reblog this!!! You'll be so noticed and cool and get so much attention!!!" Which makes me feel better in the moment, except as I get better I forget about the drafted post so I also simultaneously save my privacy while I'm at it looollll

I mean arguably, all of these are for some mild-er crashes and usually for some bigger ones I don't really have a coping mechanism so I just lie in my bed, shake and feel cold for weeks until I finally get the energy to get up, but honestly even if I can make it a little bit easier for me, I will

Anyway feel free to share your favorite coping methods too!

#guys i know all of this is common knowledge and probably not very helpful #but still i want to share a little bit of positivity especially with my feed recently mostly being about narcissistic abuse #so bear with me for a moment on this one #npd #actually npd #npd positivity #npd safe

[skeletoninthemelonland]

i hope things are going alright with you so far starbs! managing a lot of stuff can be difficult and i hope nothing but the best for you. as for regarding whatever might happen with BTC, we'll respect whatever decision you'll make as your well being is honestly way more important than anything, you're an amazing artist but also an incredible person. you've done so much for the community and have inspired so many artists and people with your artworks and how you interact with your community in general. your works are astounding and I can't even describe how much I adore what you've done for all of us, even if you might not know it.

i apologize for this sudden ramble and pop up in your inbox but I just needed to write that out, i hope you're having a wonderful timezone and that everything is going well ! hoping college goes well for you

Thank you so much, and thank you for the time taken to write this message for me. Truly hope things are going well for you too.

One thing that I'd like to mention. It's been really fun to feel excitement surrounding an ambitious project like Behind The Codes. I never expected it to become so popular, even though all I had to show were old concept art pieces, a few disorganized comic pages and some character designs. It still is something very important to me, because beyond its popularity, Behind The Codes helped me a lot with mental health. I was so glad when people enjoyed it as much as I did, I felt like it was becoming a new community altogether.

So, I have a suggestion! You there, artist (writer/digital artist/musician) that's currently reading this. If you ever find yourself starting a new project and wonder "should I really do this?" or "am I skilled enough for this?", it's absolutely fine to feel discouraged by the amount of work, time and effort you'll put into something. It's okay to take breaks from it, to be disappointed with results, to give up and let go of personal projects you desperately wanted to finish. Don't be so hard on yourself, just remember to have fun, and to do what you love. No one is pressuring you to do the most perfect piece of work in the world, except yourself. If you ever decide to show it to the world, don't be discouraged if it doesn't get as much attention at first.

You have all the time in the world to do the things you want, just keep going!

#inbox #starbstalks

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Friday: untitled Jak oneshot/ Daxter Snaps And It Doesn't Go Well

(This takes place right after Jak finally gets to return to Spargus in Jak 3, because I had some Feelings about the Dark Eco Oracle and its well-loved shrine having been either moved or destroyed in Haven. Also for reference: since the original Jak concept art was a cat/foxlike alien child, hence the ears being set so high on his head in TPL, I'm hereby deciding that their species can purr. Because I said so.)

This is Quite Long, so I'll probably crosspost to AO3 later.

TW: panic attack

Jak hadn't been surprised by the summons when he'd returned from Haven. He knew he was in for it. Damas had started trusting him with more and more responsibilities and then Jak had screwed it all up. Running off to Haven and then getting stuck there immediately after? Not a good look.

Honestly, Jak was just grateful he wasn't being "escorted" up by city guards.

Part of him wanted to go in fighting. That's all Damas cares about, right? a small, bitter corner of his heart muttered.

The rest of him was too afraid. He finally knew better than to look to anyone in Haven for affirmation or examples. Damas had been the closest he'd ever come to an authority figure he trusted. What if he lost that, too?

The second his and Daxter's heads were visible in the elevator shaft, Damas was already raising his voice. Perhaps he was simply projecting his voice to reach them, but Jak's stomach twisted into knots regardless, and his breathing became quick and shallow.

"Where have you been?" Damas demanded, rising from his throne. "It's been a month!"

The elevator locked, and Jak crept out onto the pathway like a skittish animal. He didn't meet Damas’s eyes. The confused anger and hurt he'd seen in them the last time flashed in his memory, and he winced. An oppressive silence fell for a few unnaturally long seconds, punctuated by the creak of the water wheel. Damas was waiting for an answer.

It's not our fault, Jak tried to reassure himself, Just another betrayal. We didn't do anything wrong.

When he didn't answer Damas, the king’s expression twisted between outrage and disbelief and-

And disappointment.

"Nothing? Really, Jak?" He took one step down from the dais, clenching his fist at his side. "Why didn't you tell anyone where you were going?"

Daxter took it upon himself to answer when Jak wouldn't -- or couldn't.

"Oh lay off!" he hissed, puffing himself up to look bigger, "Don't you have friends to kill in your gladiator ring?"

"Dax!" Jak gasped. Too late.

The words were already out and a black look fell across Damas’s face. His entire posture went rigid.

"Excuse me?" he asked in a frightful facsimile of calm.

"Daxter, don't," Jak pleaded, but it was far too late for that. When Daxter got this mad, he didn't even hear Jak.

"You heard me!"

Daxter leapt off Jak's shoulder and stood on the first stepping stone as if blocking the way between them.

"You tried to make us kill one of our only real friends, and threw a tantrum when we wouldn't! And if you think I'd trust you with Jak's location after that, those spikes must be diggin' into your brain!"

Jak couldn't breathe.

Either Damas was going to cut them off, or Daxter was going to get hurt, and either way everything was going to crumble. He'd finally escaped Haven and there was going to be nothing to escape to.

His core pulsed, obeying signals he didn't even know his brain was sending. It tried to respond to the fight-or-flight instincts quickening his pulse and shortening his breath. In Haven, he would have gone Dark in response. But he'd used all the dark eco. There was nothing left. Nothing but adrenaline and panic.

A strange, almost echoing sensation pushed at the inside of his skull, and the room spun. He couldn't breathe. His lungs felt like they'd been fused shut. He couldn't breathe!

"Jak!"

Between blurs of brown and green, Damas -- or an unfocused and staticy version of him -- approached rapidly.

As if from another room, Jak heard Daxter snarl, "Stay back! If you hurt him, I'll rip your spikes out!"

"I wouldn't hurt him!"

"You already did!"

It was too much. He couldn't- he couldn't focus. He couldn't find the light eco. Jak's knees gave, and it was a struggle to stay upright. Hands caught his upper arms, preventing him from collapsing entirely.

"Breathe, Jak!"

Damas sounded worried this time.

"You have to breathe!"

"Can't-!" Jak gasped, breath squeaking.

Then the world turned sideways and he was in the water. Or partly in the water.

His legs twitched with the shock of the new sensation, surprising him enough to suck in a deep breath. A compressing sensation against his chest and arms tightened in response.

"Focus on the water. Find your feet."

It took four tries to get his boots on the rocky bottom of the pool. His chest hurt, but he managed another deep breath.

"That's it. You can do this."

A small hand took his, pulling against the pressure around his shoulders, and pressed it against a narrow chest.

"L- like we practiced, bud-"

Oh. There's Daxter.

"Just breathe when I breathe, remember?"

Distantly, he heard Damas ask Daxter, "Has this happened before? In- in Spargus, I mean."

"Don't think about it, warrior," the other voice encouraged -- Damas? Is that Damas? But he's mad at us! -- "Just do as your friend does."

"If Jak wants to tell ya, he'll tell ya," Daxter said sourly. "You and I are not on speaking terms right now."

"...that is understandable."

One by one, his muscles relaxed. His breathing was much too fast, but it was easier to get full breaths at least.

When the ringing in Jak’s ears at last began to subside, he picked up a new sound. It was faint, barely audible at all, but he could just make out a nervous rumble. A laryngeal vibration he could feel through the back of his shirt. With conscious thought on standby mode, Jak's body responded to long-forgotten cues unbidden. His glottis rapidly dilated and constricted with his breathing, creating its own vibrations in a bid to self-soothe. It was how he'd learned not to cry out loud as a young child -- although blessedly, he would never remember that.

It wasn't the first time Damas had walked one of his people through a panic attack in the throne room, and it wouldn't be the last. But this one hurt.

"You're safe. There is no danger here. This is a safe place."

Shame raked its claws down his chest and Pain reached through the incision, grasping at organs and prying bones out of the way.

Jak didn't trust him.

And it was his fault.

"I'm sorry," he whispered- to Jak, to Daxter, to either-

A memory loomed damningly before his eyes. Mar had just started walking, and nearly toppled into the pools. Damas had yelled at him to get away from the edge, and the baby had burst into a loud, terrified wail.

"I'm- was it the shouting? I-"

"I'm sorry, it's okay, it's okay now- I know, I used the Big Voice, Daddy's sorry! You scared me, Bug!"

He hadn't gotten any better after losing Mar, had he? He still shouted when he was afraid. And look how that had turned out.

Damas tightened his hold on Jak and rested his chin on the crown of the boy's head. The apologies were bitter on his tongue, but necessary.

"I...I triggered this, didn't I? I'm sorry- gods, I'm sorry, Jak. I'm- you scared me. I couldn't find you! No one could!"

"You...thought we defected?" he asked through numbed lips.

The panic was slow to fade, still muddling Jak's mind. He couldn't quite make sense of what he was hearing.

"I thought the Marauders had taken you! Or you'd collapsed somewhere in the Wastes where we couldn't find you!" Damas answered. The dregs of that old fear still stained the edges of his voice. He shuddered.

He swallowed hard, interrupting the agitated purring for a moment. "I...did not handle the...situation as I should have. I damaged your trust. And I deserved worse than the silent treatment. I understand that. But to keep it from Sig, too?"

"You can't just run away like that! I- I understand why you didn't tell me-"

Painfully slowly, Jak drew his legs back out of the water and onto the rocks.

"They wouldn't let me," he mumbled. "They didn't let us leave."

Damas shot a concerned look at Daxter, who shrugged and looked away.

Shifting his grip to have one arm around the boy's waist, Damas heaved himself to his feet, taking Jak with him.

This promised to be a very unpleasant conversation, the least he could do was find them somewhere more comfortable to sit.

They were silent for a time, each processing the whirlwind of events. Jak was deeply, thoroughly, confused. No one had ever apologized like that before. Acknowledging his pain and the specific way their actions had caused it? It would be a cold day in hell before Samos ever did anything like that.

He didn't understand.

They'd defied Damas, then run from him. Daxter had just challenged him to his face.

Yet he spoke like a man anxiously awaiting the return of a prodigal son.

"Who wouldn't let you leave, Jak?" Damas asked him, far too gently.

Jak shut his eyes. "Haven."

"Haven?!" Damas sounded horrified. "What were you doing there?! Is that where you've been this whole time?"

Miserably, Jak nodded. "I was just- we were just scouting. Just- it wasn't supposed to be-"

He gritted his teeth.

"They locked down the air trains," he croaked. "And- and there's force fields blocking off the city exits. The only way they'd let us go was if I fought on the frontlines for three weeks first."

Fighting down his anger lest he trigger Jak's panic again, Damas forced himself to ask, "What made you go back to that city in the first place?"

A hostage. His boy- The boy had been a bloody hostage, and he'd had no idea! Damas felt something dark and dense fluttering between his ribs. If he found the person who ordered this, he would drown them in the sands.

Jak winced and passed several looks back and forth with Daxter.

"Ashelin...called me to the oasis," he said at last.

Damas stiffened beside him.

"She want- she wanted me to come back to Haven. After everything they did to me, she wanted me to come back."

He felt the hints of the anxiety returning, and wrapped his arms around himself for comfort.

"Ashelin Praxis?" Damas demanded. He curled his lip. "I might have known. I hope you told her where to shove that offer."

Daxter scoffed. "Oh, he did. Even told her "I have new friends now", which was a little too generous considering what you said to my pal."

Jak gave the ottsel a weary look, and Daxter grudgingly subsided.

"I told her to leave. She- she wouldn't drop it. Said the friends we still had were going to die. That it was my responsibility because of-"

He flipped a hand in the air in frustration.

"I don't know! Dead people I share some common blood with!"

"Pal, I'm pretty sure that common blood stopped bein' responsible for that dump when Princess Scribbleface's darling pappy took over," Daxter grumbled.

"Common blood?!" Damas startled, but Jak had already moved on, hastily trying to explain himself.

"We didn't believe her -- I- I mean, why would we? But when I asked the Oracle in the temple-"

"How did you find the Oracle?!" Damas spluttered.

"The stupid thing called me," Jak growled. He leaned forward and pressed his face into his hands. "Said the whole planet was in danger and my friends would die if I didn't find the catacombs."

He muffled a snarl in his palms.

"I hate them. I hate those rottin' things. They don't tell me when something is a trap. They only tell me what fits their agenda."

Jak could speak to Precursor Oracles.

Only monks were supposed to still be able to do that.

Monks, or Heirs of Mar taking the Trials.

"And...was it a trap?" Damas asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

A painful, wishful image of Jak in the Tomb of Mar wormed through Damas’s thoughts. If life had any semblance of fairness, or restitution, it would have been reality. It was not what he deserved, not after how many times he'd failed the people he cared about. But Jak deserved it. He'd been isolated enough.

Jak's face was like stone.

"All they cared about was getting me into Haven to find the catacombs before that nutcase Veger could. And all Haven cared about was keeping us there."

A deep, ominous creaking filled the room. Harsh shadows stretched and yawned as the terrible old statue beside the dais flickered, then lit up. A suffocating sense of dread filled Damas as he beheld the monolith. It wasn't a real Oracle. It was a shell, made to hold pieces of the water wheel. It wasn't made to have any kind of lights.

Daxter yelped and scurried up to Jak’s shoulder as the water wheel ground to a halt.

The silence was unnatural.

Jak's chest heaved, and Damas feared for a moment that he was going to panic again. But an answering light flickered in the boy's eyes. White, incandescent rage.

"What do you want now? You're not welcome here!" Jak snarled, standing up with a jerk.

"Angry one-"

It said in warning, a rolling, ancient voice that echoed off the stones and twisted in their eardrums.

Jak clenched his fists.

"No! I'm not afraid of you! You're no "holier" than Onin. You aren't even a Precursor!"

A sense of fury shook the room, and the water trembled.

Jak held his ground though his legs shook.

"You can't do anything to punish me," he challenged, angry tears glowing in his eyes. "The worst you can do is withhold information that would protect me, and you do that anyway! If- if you had power at all, you wouldn't have let Veger destroy Crius!"

Crius? Damas vaguely remembered that name. Hadn't he been one of the Bonekeeper's heralds? The memories were fuzzy at best. Father forbade Mother from speaking of the Bonekeeper when they married. Any communing with the patron of dark eco was done in secret, and as a child Damas had only caught her once.

"The dark shrine was all those people had!" the anger was slipping away from Jak now, replaced by something closer to grief. "He gave them hope! He gave- he gave me hope! And you couldn't save him. So what makes you think you can scare me now? Hu'mens are worse than you."

And the Oracle, miraculously, quieted. The waters stilled, and some of the dread receded. Jak fell back to the steps, having exhausted the last reserves of his emotions.

"Yeah! You tell him, Jak!" Daxter cheered, breaking the silence, "About time you put Sparky in his place!"

He ruffled Jak's hair -- the hair he could reach at least -- and leaned against his arm comfortingly.

"Next, we get Loghead!"

The Oracle remained lit, but speechless. All this time, had rebuking the heralds really been an option? Ever the pragmatist, Damas decided to follow Jak's example.

"As the boy said." His voice was quiet at first, but gained courage with each new word.

"This is not a place of seers and soothsayers. Respectfully: we do not require your guidance at this time."

"Heir of Mar-"

the Oracle began, almost wheedling.

Rage loosened his lips and he lost the last shred of reverence he'd held for the messenger.

Jak went rigid and Damas felt an anger of his own. How dare this entity try to leverage his bloodline when the Precursors had turned their backs on him!

"Hold your tongue! Unless you can comprehend the trouble you have caused, keep your counsel to yourself."

Resentfully, the Oracle's eyes flashed.

And with that, the lights were gone. The water wheel resumed its gloomy rhythm. The statue was hollow once more.

"So be it. You wish to hear no truth from me? Then you, Damas of the Wastes, shall hear no truth from me."

Something about the acquiescence -- or threat -- made Damas uneasy. Withholding information again, just as Jak had said. But he had the feeling it was hinting at something important. Taunting him.

Bloody seven hells.

He'd sooner cast the bones himself and call upon the Dark Lady directly as his mother once had than ever deal with that thing again.

"Little wonder you're always so on edge, dealing with that," he said; a poor attempt at a joke.

Jak dropped his face back into his hands.

"I'm so sick of them. Jak do this. Jak go there. Suffer for us, Jak! It's Fate!"

Damas scoffed. "Fate, eh? Wastelanders make their own fate. If this is who my monks consult, it's no surprise that they believe the world is coming to an end."

"They are pretty worried about the creatures in that space ship," Jak admitted reluctantly.

"Bah."

Damas waved it off.

"When the metalheads invaded our world, we survived with or without the Precursors they hunted. We will do the same if these creatures land."

He jostled Jak's shoulder -- shaking Daxter by proxy.

"Ey! No manhandling!"

Daxter slithered away down the steps and into the water. He glared up over the step like a little croc.

"You keep your emotionally constipated hands away from me!"

Damas let out a startled laugh, and Jak shook his head and grinned.

"I...guess you're right. Spargus is pretty tough."

"We are Wastelanders, boy," Damas declared, "We carved out a home in the places where nothing else survives. We'll carve out our fate the same way, with the same tools our ancestors used."

"...with eco," Jak said quietly, as if experiencing a revelation.

"Our minds think alike."

Damas’s wry grin faded.

"Jak...I'm...sorry. That I made you feel you couldn't contact me for help. If I had known you were being held in Haven against your will, I would have come for you."

The boy fixed him with a bewildered expression.

"You would have?" Jak asked, "You're serious. You. Leaving your people to come after me?"

The king met his stare evenly.

"Yes."

"After the- the thing, with the Arena-?"

Damas winced and looked away.

"I. I did not warn you, I was not permitted to. But the final trial of a Spargan is one they are supposed to lose."

Jak bristled. "What?!"

"It's a test of whether they can put loyalty to their city over the commands of a tyrant. Sig wasn't supposed to throw down his gun, he was supposed to goad you into a sparring match." Damas ran his hand over his shaved head. "I should have told him before he went in that it was you. I didn't know that you knew each other, but- maybe he wouldn't have panicked if he'd known it was a Final Trial. Maybe I wouldn't have panicked."

Jak stared at him in disbelief for several seconds. For reasons he couldn't quite explain, he blurted out an accusation with no bite to it.

"What, did you forget I didn't grow up here?"

When he was met with chagrined silence, his eyes widened.

"Oh my gods you did. How?! You're the one that found me out there!"

Clearly embarrassed, Damas shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what to tell you. There are days when it just...seems as though I have known you for much longer than seven months."

Jak took that statement, turned it over in his mind. The version of Damas in his head wasn't quite matching the one in front of him. Even before things had become strained between them, he hadn't had the context to understand the way Damas saw him. He still didn't- not completely.

"Sorry," he said suddenly, and gestured to the soaked trousers. "I um. I don't usually...not in front of people, I mean-"

He leaned back against the stairs and stretched his legs out before him. The linen stuck to his legs in sodden wrinkles and folds, nearly transparent against his calves. It would dry quickly once he stepped outside again -- and the evaporating water would serve to cool his skin nicely. But for now, it drew his mind to his panic attack.

"Don't apologize." Damas laced his fingers together loosely and leaned his elbows against his knees. "May...may I ask what it was that sparked that kind of fear?"

Jak met Daxter's eyes, down in the water. The ottsel winced. He knew he'd taken it too far. He was just so sick of people acting like Jak was a trained dog with no autonomy of his own. And sometimes his desire to protect Jak’s emotions didn't mesh completely with what Jak needed at the moment.

Jak broke their gaze and began to pick at a scar on his elbow.

"...thought I was going to have to choose sides. Between you and Dax."

"Why would supporting Daxter cause you to panic?" Damas pressed.

"Because," he muttered with a shrug.

He'd assumed without question that Jak would take Daxter's side. Jak didn't know whether to be amused or grateful or just tired.

"Because?"

"Because I- I wanted this to still be home." Jak made a vague gesture encompassing the room, and its occupants.

"This is your home," Damas insisted. He glanced to the empty Oracle with a thoughtful frown.

Something lingered in the corners of Jak's eyes. A concern he wasn't voicing. Did he still believe he could be so easily forsaken?

"If this is where the desert brought you, then this is where the desert meant you to thrive."

But then, he had been cast out of Haven on the flimsiest of pretenses. His faith in hu'menity was shaken. For a moment, Damas considered changing the subject. He could talk about the coming trials, give Jak something else to think about.

Or he could meet him on his level. Show him the same vulnerability he'd so unwillingly displayed.

The words stuck to his tongue, stabbed like needles into the roof of his mouth as he forced them through his teeth.

"I...had a son. Some years ago."

"Had". Was there ever such a horrible word?

"He was like you -- or, he would have been, when he was older."

Under his breath he added, "if he ever got the chance to get older."

Jak's brows knit together, then went slack. From tiny pinpricks in the centers of his eyes, horror flooded out to the rest of his face.

"You have a child?"

After a moment to collect himself, the king nodded.

His head dipped lower, nearly brushing the steeple of his fingertips.

"I did. He was taken from me, by some of the same people who seem to have orchestrated your own suffering."

"I pray that my son still lives but- he was so young. So small. So-"

Damas’s voice cracked.

"So very small."

Guilt played across Jak's face for a moment, then was swallowed up by a deep sadness that welled up from within. Haven was a city of devils. He wondered if Damas’s child had been taken during the time when Praxis was snatching children en masse in his search for Jak's childhood self.

Did that make it his fault that Damas was so bereaved?

"That's-"

That's not fair. It's an abomination. Hurting a kid should be enough to make the Precursors strike you dead on the spot. Errol should've died the first time he put me in the Chair-

Jak's thoughts spiraled out of control, and he had to fight to return his focus to the moment.

"That's terrible."

Inhaling sharply, Damas raised his head and straightened his spine. One warm, callused hand found its way to Jak’s shoulder and squeezed.

He felt his throat closing up, snapping his voice into grating pieces.

"The reason I tell you this is so that you will understand this: It would take more than a little teenaged defiance to make me turn my back on you."

"I lost my son, Jak," he croaked, "I cannot lose you, too."

The laryngeal vibration began again -- from Jak, this time. The nearly autonomous response was as much a subconscious desire to comfort Damas as it was self-soothing. Even so, his chest ached dully. How old, he wondered, had Damas’s son been when he was taken? He must have been so scared! Did he call out for his father? Did Damas call out for him?

"In...war," Damas said hesitantly, "Sacrifices are sometimes required of us. In my case, I had to stay and rebuild the part of the wall the attackers destroyed. To protect thousands from the storms and the Marauders. I knew that, but it still took days for Sig to convince me to send him to Haven in my place."

"Yeah," Jak muttered, "I know about sacrfices."

But Damas shook his head. "It's hardly a sacrifice if someone else chose it for you out of convenience. That's just betrayal."

Silence fell again, but there was no tension to it. A sense of introspection lingered between them, each consumed with his own thoughts. Even Daxter's anger had muted itself -- now overlayed with guilt, berating himself for jumping to fight Jak's battles without bothering to see what Jak himself wanted.

The moment of quiet ended with a crackling of the city radio from which Damas monitored all official channels.

"Oh not now," the man groaned with a most unkingly attitude. "Can I have a moment of peace?"

"No way," Jak scoffed, finding a glimmer of humor in the situation, "You jinxed it by letting us take a break. Now something crazy is going to happen."

Damas narrowed his eyes. "Boy, if you will that into reality-" he warned, with no real way to finish the threat.

The second he picked up the receiver, he knew it was going to be a headache.

"Sire! We've got three different Marauder patrols converging on the city gates! There's a fourth on the radar crossing the river now!"

Daxter pulled himself out of the water and cringed. "How many cars is that?"

"Twelve, at least," Jak gulped.

Damas did not take this information the way he normally would have. He seemed to be fuming as he stood up and stomped up the stairs to retrieve his staff. Jak could hear him muttering under his breath.

His voice rose to something more audible. "I'm not in the mood for this, Egil," he snapped, addressing the thane of the Marauders as if he were present.

"Not the time, Egil, this is not the time to test me! Just got my kid back, got threatened by a bloody Oracle-"

Jak decided, for the sake of being able to focus during a fight, to just pretend he hadn't heard Damas referring to him as his own kid. He could come back to that and freak out later. Right now, there was a fight to be had. He held an arm down for Daxter to use as a ramp, then stood.

"Where do you need me?" he asked.

Damas gave him a searching look. For an instant, his gaze flicked to the lifeless Oracle. That seemed to reinforce his resolve.

"With me," he said shortly. "We're taking the Dozer. You're on the turret gun."

The way Jak's -- and even Daxter's -- eyes lit up almost made up for the hassle Damas knew this skirmish was going to be. He cast one last look at the Oracle before shepherding them to the lift.

Keep your counsel, he thought, and I will keep mine. I don't need your permission to add a son to my House. What of that, eh? The Heir and your renegade Pawn allied against you!

"Hey, maybe I should drive," Jak suggested as the lift began to move."

"Hm." Damas pretended to consider it. "No."

"Why not?!"

"You can't reach the pedals yet."

He could have simply explained that he preferred to drive his favorite vehicle himself. But, the slightest bit giddy at the thought of open rebellion against fate, Damas instead bent slightly to offer a teasing grin.

"What?! Oh come on!"

The elevator sank out of sight, and the water wheel trembled. The statue vibrated and the pools bubbled and boiled with the helpless fury of a falconer whose birds had long since slipped the jesses to fly free. But the boy had not spoken falsley: it was not a Precursor, merely the echo of one's memory. In the face of hu'men defiance, it was helpless to retaliate in any meaningful way. Even withholding the truth of the Hero's identity had been robbed of its intended effect, considering the Fallen Heir and the Hero had gone ahead and reformed the broken bond between them anyway!

The Oracle could not comprehend their motives, nor could it ever hope to understand the complexities of the hu'men mind.

It could only watch and seethe.

#fic prompts #writing prompts #free day friday #jak and daxter #dadmas #king damas #jak and daxter au #headcanon that the final arena battle is a Kobayashi Maru and Jak pulled a Kirk #i named the Dark Oracle after one of the mythological Titans #sneaky reference to sparguscituangel canon where Mictecacíhuatl is the patron of dark eco #tw panic attack #daxter was fully ready to End Damas right there 😂 #Jak's species can purr now because the concept art started out vaguely feline #eldritch abomination oracle time! #except instead of humans being unable to comprehend the lovecraftian monster #its the lovecraftian monster that is wholly incapable of understanding humans without succumbing to madness #long post #oneshot

[willczek-art]

NPMD Tarot - The Hierophant

Others from the series: The Devil, The Lovers, The Star

Symbolism + some WIP/alternatives are under the cut C:

My intuition put Grace as the High Priestess, but from what I've read it's more about spirituality and intuition, while the Hierophant is all about strong traditional beliefs and ruling/leading, so it fits her way better! :D

Left side/Beginning has the dance cancellation sign, since that was her mission and Max was her first victim, while on the right/Ending is Jason and the Black Book, her mission and source of power has changed.

Halo= superiority, holy mission, Red as a sign of danger/death to come (which is why the light it's only on the boys)

She's sitting on what's supposed to be the bleachers C:

Doodles:

#nerdy prudes must die #grace chasity #npmd #starkid #fanart #my art #tarot cards #tarot #school stuff #CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?? I got to do this for school!! Which is great bc im not self-motivated enough to finish artworks like this xD #there are two more almost finished!! Any guesses who and for what card? 👀✨ #and i have sketches/concepts for three more + back of the card that i didnt have time to finalise before end of the semester #also!! super curious to hear other interpretations than my own + if i messed anything up meaning-wise + what couldve been changed/added #since its a school thing and they may ask me questions about it etc #ANYWAY!!! #hope ya like it and even if you dont there will be at least two more #500

[caelanglang]

weeds or flowers… it’s all a matter of perspective…

hehehe i joined @luneariann’s dtiys!

Ely… I tried your layering method and it worked until idk how to render it further and proceeded to merge all the layers orz

my life motto rn: live laugh love mergeallyourlayersandcryrenderingit

#I hope you like it ely! #I love the entire concept tbh #I’m just as sucker for anything that connects human bodies with flowers #and flowers #I love flowers even tho idk their names wjsjfhdj #don’t mind me going insane with the arms idk what possessed me either #bsd chuuya #bsd #bungou stray dogs #nakahara chuuya #my art

[ne0nwithazero]

Meet Button & Match

Characters in the Cable AU tend to come in pairs, duos or dichotomies, and Button and Match are no exception! :) Being the two game controllers that Kris and Asriel used to play with on their old TV, the twins have always been inseparable.

After the Divide, many darkners were left purposeless, and with their friend Tenna having gone missing, Button and Match were left out of use. Roaming the Channels and the City, causing trouble, picking play fights, and hoping to find someone who would want to play with them.

Though their idea of "playing" might be a bit too aggressive for the average darkner. Who doesn't like fighting games?

#Deltarune OC #Button #Match #These two had a VERY rough concept art phase #I don't know why I struggled so much getting them right aaaaa :') #But I've always had this very nebulous idea of Tenna's Friends hopping in my mind #Though Tenna always felt like a loner so #Their relationship is like being childhood friends with someone even though you're grown up now and have barely anything in common #They're good kids tho :) Just a bit misguided #The nature of Match being the knock-off but still looking identical to his sister is still getting fleshed out ngjfkdg #I'll find interesting lore reasons for it :) #Tenna #Host #My Art

[pastasilly]

doodle of jim and a kate blake redesign!!

(not ship art!!)

#art #fanart #my art #doodle #digital art #treasure planet #treasure planet 2 #treasure planet fanart #jim hawkins #james pleiades hawkins #kate blake #redesigns #btw for anyone wondering. no i dont ship them #but ofc i can most definitely understand as to why people would #if anything i headcanon kate as a lesbian. i even drew a love interest for her but ill most likely post that another time #also kate is transfem I DONT MAKE THE RULES #kinda mad that in his concept art for the sequel they chopped off his lil rattail #ive gotten used to it tho so nvm #just like kate.i made jim a love interest.im sorry ok im still going batshit insane over this guy #LOVE this movie too #STILL CRYING THAT THEY CANCELLED THE SEQUEL AND EVENTUAL SERIES #UGH I WAS ROBBED

[thundersbugs]

giving geto all the gender

(referring back to this post lol)

#actually i dont even know how people make genderbends because gender is such a vague concept that anyone could be anything #which is probably why this is just him and i didnt really change much #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #getou suguru #suguru geto #suguru getou #fanart #mika's art #idc im crosstagging because i really like how this turned out #satosugu #stsg

[princeofcyberpunk]

chat, is this real? (god i wish it wasn't.)

so uh. according to this thread its very possible that Level-5 is using ai art. thats fucking fantastic. thanks guys. definitely not a spit in the face to your fans who've loved you for years for your unique art direction. no. not at all :) /VERY SAR

it doesn't matter if they're "just using it for concept art" or whatever. they're still using it and its fucking gross. As a Yo-Kai Watch fan of almost 10 years now, I am truly disgusted. I hope they recall this decision and go back to using exclusively real artists, or they'll lose a lot of fans (including myself, which would break my heart. I love Level-5 games to death.)

I'm still most likely going to buy Inazuma Eleven: Victory Road and Decapolice when they come out, because most likely if the use of AI in scriptwriting/sidequests is real those will be rewritten in the English localization by actual people. Still doesn't change the concept art thing but i've been hyped for these games for too long to let that ruin it. If it goes any further than that tho, i'm probably going to tap out. Which sucks so much.

This is lazy at best and downright harmful to real artists at worst.

also why would you want it to look more like the anime bro the yo-kai watch anime was ass. thats just me tho askjfhakjhfkjafk

#princeposting #level-5 #yokai watch #decapolice #inazuma eleven #fuck ai art #ai art #fuck ai #if you support ai art don't interact dude. i don't want to hear you #take your whining about “gatekeeping” elsewhere. L. Ratio even. get gatekept lmao #this is genuinely so dissapointing. i'm an artist and i've loved Level-5's works since i was like. 8 #specifically because their art direction was so distinct and wacky and cool #so to see them do this is rlly dissapointing. #ik it wont do anything to a multi million dollar video game company to tell them to “do better” but still #do better guys wtf is this #this explains why i thought some of the Decapolice concept art looked strange. like there was something about the lineart that didn't look #right. now i know lmao

[lemongogo]

can i ask.how u guys practice ur creativity <3 how u practice ur imagination or like.. how u experiment with ur art, how u come to ideas and how u develop them.<3 pretty please <3

#smthing i have always struggled w.is feeling like i can only draw things that r handed 2 me. #as in.an idea or concept that already exists #chara or conflict that already exists.Scene that alr exists. #and i think it can be soo limiting bc when i have that sort of creative desire but nothing 2 reflect off of it #i feel like im unable to do anything/get anywhere bc im unable to do that mental legwork myself ykwim #like comic artists r SOOO JAW DROP INSPIRING TO MEE bc not only are u envisioning ur own sequences/situations #but u are able to imagine even the most MUNDANE interactions within those scenarios u know #like the transitory panels and the quiet moments and the every day stillness #and i feel like.its not even a poor attempt on my behalf its like.i cant Even attempt it.like my brain is soo empty #and soo static and noiseless that i am like gauhh...... #i can practice lines all day long and practice colors and practice anatomy or Whatever bc its something concrete #and its in front of me and i can pry apart the physical technicalities until i understand it better #but my MIND???ABSTRACTION>? THOUGHTS .ough its so hard #and i really want to push past that but i dont know how and its so .. demoralizing to think that ill get there One Day but i feel #one million and two days away.and not making active process towards it. #i know the first step is to build ur visual library and i feel liek. idk i FEEL LIKEEE theres more 2 it that im missing #but also im depressed as hell n my job is killing my creative drive and the seasonal stuff isnt helping #so maybe i just need 2 give it time (true) but i also like.man i dont know. i want 2 do something w my hands #but everything ive been doing so far has felt soo .hard and fruitless and i definitely dont want 2 turn art into such a stressful thing #fruitless as in like.i dont get any personal satisfaction w it.idgaf abt monetization or algorithms or any of tht #but smtimes thats just what happens and i have 2 weather through and know ill be more equipped 4 this some other time #SAWRYYY IM ALWAYS GOING ON AND ONNN im nromal im normal<3 i just rly like art and it sucks balls whn it feels out of reach #sigh cry fart scroll.(:salute:)

[claitea]

porygonhd by @startistdoodles, a few doodles complete with gen 5 styled sprites!

#pokemon #porygon #clai's art #maybe i went a lil overboard but i just Really liked this concept haha #i actually have always been a little annoyed the porygon line ended at z yknow? #like dont get me wrong i love the whole porygon line but it was cool how porygon seemed to develop along with the games #so while it makes sense to stop since its a full three-pokemon evo line. why stop at a Glitched version? #i was looking at the porygon lines' bulbapedia pages while drawing this out of curiosity #and porygon-z's smash bros trophies suggest a patch was on the way. but that never happened :( #also fun thing to note is that porygon seems to have been made purely to poke fun at people lmao #bulbapedia says people told satoshi tajiri it was too late to make a game boy game and he should make games with 3d polygonal graphics #so instead he made porygon. which is techincally polygons as they told him but still in sprite form lmaooo #but does that not make right now and even better time to make an actual split-evo for porygon2? #since pokemon switched to full 3d ages ago why not commemorate that with a fixed up final porygon evo? #anyway thats my porygon rant haha #porygonhd is Such a perfect concept i would do anything to have this in a real game #EDIT: //DANG// THE SECOND AFTER I POSTED THIS I READ THE ASK ABT HOW HD CANT OPEN ITS WINGS HAJGHVDHGD #ah well. its cute here isnt it

[ganondoodle]

been able to keep both my fear and hype about totk in check by watching nothing but elden ring videos for weeks but now i read something on accident and my anxiety is going through the roof again

#ganondoodles talks #pls nintendy #dont do this #it was only a sentence with no clear spoilers or anything #but by god its put fear in my heart again #pls let totk be its own game #id even be willing to spoil myself on some stuff just to know my fear isnt based on truth #i hate that i feel like this #even if im better able to stop panic attacks before they happen #i still feel so silly for feeling so strongly about a game and its lore #but no matter what i try i cant help it #its been my thing of comfort for so long i wouldnt know what else i would focus on if i were to lose it #and it would be so much work - years of work- basically wasted #plus i would feel so bad having made people be interested only to abandon it before its even really started #the only thing giving me comfort if this was the case is knowing id just post all lore -concept art -drafts and scripts #as a sort of -this is what i had been working on for all these years- so at least the people who cared could get an idea of it #and in the unlikely case that it would be liked by alot of people #i would keep working on it despite it making no sense anymore #im rambling on trying to calm myself down #sorry #gotta be exhausting reading my anxious ass tags over and over #;__;

[gascansposts]

OHOHOHOHOHOH!

A little teaser and/or sneak peak! For Of vagabonds and vagrants >:3c

#im excited I’m really liking he concepts so far!! #hehehe #so much to do… so much to plan… muahaha #I’m going to try to make some small comics! or something! #anything about this will go under the tag #of vagabonds and vagrants #cowboy au #art #yep #arty art #legends of avantris #loa #gideon coal #character design #teaser #character reference #ugh I didn’t even notice but it’s 12:30 #goodnight lovelies #sleep well #*passes out* #once upon a firelight

[moe-broey]

Some byunnies...

Second one was def toying w the idea of, "What if they were a duo unit/What would their art look like?" It's p cramped though LMFAO def needed more breathing room to capture what I was going for (Alfonse blocking an attack with his weapon, while also keeping Sharena close. Trying to figure out a protective stance when both arms are in use)

Also

Shenanigans

#fire emblem #feh #if anything i think i'd be most likely to revisit the second sketch. maybe even take a lightbox to it. #i feel like i was onto something w that pose/concept..... plus i just love toying w poses in general #idk if it feels wonky though esp if i were to lightbox it i think maybe sharena should be positioned higher..? #she does feel cramped here. but i am just nitpicking at this point lmfao i felt like i was onto something fun and dynamic #fe alfonse #sharena #my art

[halloweencatsart]

I gave my collector OC a redesign! Her name is The Stranger and she's inspired by the concept of strange stars and strange matter.

(a quark star is a hypothetical extremely dense star where the pressure in the core causes particles to be broken down into quarks, forming quark matter. strange stars are like that but it's specifically strange quarks.)

(some theories suggest that strange matter can turn everything it touches into more strange matter)

#she's also inspired by thar concept art of the collector having a hole in the back of their head #her head is full of goop #her goop doesn't turn things into more goop unless she wants it to #her signature collection method is turning things into goop and putting them in little jars #however even if it's not transforming anything it's still extremely sticky and stains everything #she doesn't like collecting tho #much rather stare at bugs #or pretend to be a bug #the owl house #my ocs #toh oc #the stranger #collector oc #toh #the collector