at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
18K notes
·
View notes
{☆} characters arlecchino
{☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader, transfem arlecchino
{☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink, degradation, stomach bulge, dacryphilia, restraints
"Arle, hah..please. I can't– I can't wait any longer."
The pleading, almost pouty, words had her letting out a deep, husky chuckle as she fiddled with the buckle of her belt, admiring your body as she stepped up to the bed. Her knee sank into the mattress as she knelt down, pressing a placating kiss to your brow and gesturing for you to turn over.
"Come on, dove. Be a good girl, or I'll treat you like the whore you are." Arlecchino clicked her tongue, firmly grabbing your hands and tightening her belt around your wrists, giving the leather a firm tug to test its strength– and to make sure it wasn't too tight. "I'm in a good mood. Don't spoil it by being a brat, little dove."
The pout it drew from you made her grin, canines flashing beneath her lips as she settled in behind you, cupping your ass in her calloused hands with an appreciative grumble. Your panties were already sticking to your cunt, the fabric soaked. She couldn't help but drag one of her digits across the fabric, teasing your folds beneath it.
"Lucky I adore that pretty mouth of yours or I'd have cut out your tongue," She gruffly spoke, her tone neither in jest or too serious– perhaps she would, maybe she wouldn't. She liked to keep you on your toes. "Hm. Maybe I'll use your throat after– shut you up properly. You look so pretty gagging on my cock, you know?"
Arlecchino slid her fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to see your slick cunt, her fingers pulling the folds apart. Fuck, she could feel her cock throbbing against her boxers at the sight– she'd never get tired of it, just like she'd never get tired of using you like a toy.
"But in the meantime.." She finally pulled down her own boxers, her aching cock slipping free and slapping against your thigh– she slid right between your thighs, forcing you to squeeze them together around her. "Fuck, that's it." She growled, pumping her hips a few times before she was satisfied, lining up her cock with your entrance.
She had the decency, at least, to sink in slowly at first..let you adjust to her size for a brief moment before she snapped her hips forward and sank fully into your cunt with a sharp hiss.
Arlecchino typically enjoyed teasing you first, making you practically beg just for her to give you her cock at all, but she had other plans tonight– she wasn't going to waste time playing around this time. Her hand slipped down to your stomach pressed against the mattress, a low chuckle building in her chest at the distinct bulge her cock left. It was a wonder she fit at all– but she'd make it fit even if she hadn't.
"Be a good girl now and don't complain." She grumbled, leaning down to press you down into the mattress with her body, nipping at your ear before she pulled her hips back, hissing at the way you clenched around her in response. She took a moment to sit there, letting you ruminate and squirm at the lack of movement– only to grab a fistful of hair and start pounding you into the mattress before you can even think to whine about her lack of movement.
How quickly, how easily, you turn into a blubbering mess as she uses you like a toy for her own enjoyment. Not that you won't enjoy what she has in plan for you– just maybe not as much as she does. The mental image of filling you with her cum..it drives her thrusts harder, faster. She wants to fuck you stupid with her cock, fill you to the breaking point until her cum pools on the sheets, unable to be fully plugged up. Just the idea of watching her cum dripping down your thighs makes her control slip just the slightest bit.
She's already big enough to bulge your stomach with every thrust, but she wonders if she can push it further.
She certainly wants to, and she intends to.
The fat tears rolling down your cheeks only got her more excited, her hands gripping your hips so tight she can already imagine the bruises in the shape of her fingers against your skin.
"That's it, dove, give in," Arlecchino hissed, a low growl rumbling in her chest as she continued to pound into them relentlessly, her thighs already stinging from the sheer force of it. "Fucking take it, you whore."
Her muscles flexed in faint restraint, the shifting of your arms against her as you nearly screamed at the intense rush of pleasure making her sink her teeth into your shoulder in warning– a futile effort, really, as your body twitched when you came so hard she briefly considered if she had to stop..but you were still moaning even through the tears rolling down your cheeks, rocking back into her thrusts weakly, unable to keep up.
She wasn't too far behind, either. Her teeth dug deeper into your skin, muffling the growl as she plunged into your soaking wet cunt, bucking into you in much shorter thrusts until she finally felt her cum spilling into you. It was almost enough to send her over the edge again– fuck, you were practically sucking her in with how tight you were, squeezing around her cock.
Her head slumped against your shoulder as she pulled her teeth from your skin, taking a moment of respite to catch her breath and let the sting and ache settle in deep– she welcomed it, if anything. But she wasn't done.
She was going to fuck you till you were full– fill you up until she couldn't fit another drop.
For now..she pulled out, admiring the way her cum dribbled out of you. She didn't mind all that much..she was going to replace it tenfold, anyway.
She couldn't wait to plug you up and see you squirm during the meeting tomorrow, full of her cum and unable to find relief– maybe she'd make it a toy, see how long you last before someone realizes what's going on. She was going to enjoy it thoroughly.
880 notes
·
View notes
Who is the real Creator?
Sorry this took so long I have so much to say but I have no idea where to start. I hope you guys are okay with how it ended and the decision I made. This is a yandere au but with Nahida it is platonic (and the rest of the underage characters).
-TW: cult au, yandere, impostor au, mentions of being hunted down, mentions of trauma, self harm (nothing major)
-Gn reader and darling (please tell me if I mess this up message me and I will fix it)
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, this is part 5, part 6
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reader began to unpack their stuff, it was mostly clothes and books, everything else like cooking utensils was unnecessary as there were attendants who would handle stuff like cooking and cleaning. Reader guessed that was the perks of being an Archon.
The room was a bit of a mess the large doors were open and the boxes littered the floor with various trinkets and Readers personal belongings.
One should not look down on how much stuff one can gather, even in a foreign world. Soon they would be able to write poems with how well their vocabulary had gotten.
Reader took out a shirt and folded it neatly putting it inside the nicely carved wardrobe. They felt a little out of place in the spacious and very fancy room. Yet there was a certain charm towards it, Reader especially loved the tall glass windows that let the sunlight in.
"I see you are already settling in."
"Oh, Nahida! I did not see you there, yeah I thought it was best to do it while I could."
"You know there are attendants if you ever need help, please don't feel too bad it's their job after all."
"Well if you put it that way. . . I guess I could use a hand with the rest of the clothes."
Reader had underestimated how many clothes they had, it was boring to fold them and sort them all. They had bought most of their clothes and personal items as both Nahida and Reader did not know the extent of the tension that Darling's reveal would cause.
They looked through the boxes and one object caught Readers eye. It shined as the sun reflected on it. Reader took it out and observed it. This was a gift Darling had given them, it was a Fanoos that was intricately carved and made out of polished gold. The lantern's glass was made out of various colors in geometrical shapes. Overall it was very beautiful something Reader would like.
Speaking of. . .
"Nahida what will happen to Darling after. . . you know?"
Nahida watched the lantern that was in their hand without saying anything and then looked at Reader with a smile.
"It was decided that they would go to an isolated temple in Inazuma for their own safety. Even if they are innocent we can't be too careful what others might do."
Well, at least Darling would be safe there was no need to worry after all they had the Raiden shogun. Inazuma would be far away though.
They looked at the Fanoos, it would be pretty to add it near the nightstand. . . There was already a lamp there, so they decided to put it on a bookshelf instead.
"It looks very nice on the shelf there," said Nahida.
"Yeah, I am glad you think so too," replied Reader.
Reader saw a familiar hat figure silhouette from the open door. It was Wanderer as they had expected, curiously he was carrying several moving boxes as well.
"That is right I forgot to tell you Wanderer decided for extra security to move in here as well, I saw no reason to turn him down."
"O-oh but is it fine for him to just move like that because of me?"
Wanderer must have heard the conversation as he turned to look directly at them. He nodded toward Reader who gave him a small wave. After the status of Readers creator-hood was revealed Wanderer had taken to being polite to Reader but after some more nagging on their part, he had mellowed down a bit. He did tease them from time to time as was normal between them.
Reader hoped with time they could go back to the usual scowling Wanderer who did not hesitate to say what was on his mind.
However, that did make Reader ponder why he turned polite while Nahida stayed the same.
Reader must have been staring at Nahida as the Archon looked at them with a tilted head.
"I see you two are talking behind my back, not very nice I must say."
"We were just talking about your new living arrangements," she looked at Wanderer with an innocent look, "you know, it made their grace feel really bad."
Reader snorted at Nahida's jab at getting into Wanderer.
Wanderer looked surprised but sighed looking at Reader with a sincere expression they did not expect to get today.
"There is no need to concern yourself with that I chose to move out of my own violation, no one forced me to."
Reader gave an awkward smile and wrung their hands together.
"Alright, but I still feel bad-," Wanderer sighed at Reader, "let me finish! I feel bad so if you need any help come to me okay?"
Wanderer looked like he was about to turn down the offer until Nahida interjected.
"Actually since you both are moving in how about we all take a shopping trip to buy decorations, you can then ask Reader for advice on what to buy, two birds in one stone."
"A shopping trip sounds nice," Reader said and looked at Wanderer with hopeful eyes.
Wanderer closed his eyes and sighed.
"It seems you won't let this go, fine then let me put these stuff down and we can go down to the market."
Nahida and Reader looked at each other with a smile. It was going to be a fun trip.
.
.
.
The sunset this day was a bright crimson and was fading into orange at the horizon. There was no cloud in sight. the people were gathered near the central temple in Sumeru. One of the Creator's temples. Reader grimaced.
They adjusted their hood once again feeling nervous not to get caught. Wanderer held their hand more tightly and they gave a squeeze back feeling thankful.
Soon one of the heads of the religion came out near the podium.
The people were confused and some were curious but it was clear soon everyone would find out what the gathering was for.
Nahida stepped up as well, and she began to speak. Then the priest took over and Reader watched everyone's face turn to shock and outrage.
Impostor.
Reader clenched their jaw and held Wanderer's hand tighter. He did not flinch or let go.
Nahida and the priest calmed the people down in the end but there was still much tension left.
By the end of it Reader and Wanderer left the place.
.
.
.
They met Nahida outside of a meeting room. She looked exhausted and Reader's heart ached. With clumsy hands, they took out a juice bottle they had.
"You look tired, please take some."
Nahida gave a small smile and nodded.
"Thank you."
Her voice was small and a bit hoarse no doubt from all the talking. Once again Reader felt awful not being able to do anything, especially since Nahida was a dear friend.
"Please don't worry about me I am fine, as an Archon this is one of the many duties I must attend to," her face turned more serious looking at Reader, "I am afraid we are not done yet this is your turn now."
Reader's shoulders squared and they nodded. Right, it was their turn now. No more running away and this time they were not alone either. Reader looked at their friends and gave a reassuring smile.
Nahida smiled and nodded at them before turning and opening the door.
It wasn't as intimidating as they had imagined when they entered the room. It was decided for Reader's sake they would ask the acolyte and Archons who would be able to attend to come and not tell anything of the importance of the meeting. Naturally since the recent announcement from the church most would be busy, only those who had time would come and it would not be a large group. It was better for Reader to start off small Nahida had recommended and they agreed.
The Archon’s that were able to attend were unsurprisingly Venti and Zhongli. Yet most people in the room would be unaware of the importance of such figures.
As they entered Nahida stepped in front of them while Wanderer walked behind them, they felt rather safe this way.
The others who had arrived were Diluc, Lisa, Cyno, Kujo Sara and Chlorinde. Quite the cast had come. Now all of their eyes were on the trio but mostly on Reader as they stood in front.
Nahida stepped up to speak but Reader beat them to it putting a hand in front of her, all while still looking at their audience.
The sky outside was just as red there was an odd silence in the wind. The shadows on the acolytes' faces deepened and their eyes became glaring embers of accusation evident on their eyes.
Impostor.
They had thought a lot about what to say, and there were many words and accusations they wanted to scream at the top of their lungs until Reader's voice became hoarse and dry. Yet what were words when actions could speak louder?
They took out the same kitchen knife from before on that day from their pocket. They did not bother to look at their reactions. Reader took out their palm and cut it and watched as it bled a brilliant gold. They were still unused to the sight themselves and took a moment to admire it.
They heard a sharp breath. Before anyone could speak they threw the knife onto the table.
Reader then left the room.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Taglist: @resident-cryptid @probablynoposts @esthelily @mitsukashi @charming-mage @chaoticfivesworld @irisxiel @dulcedelechenginamo @yu-ulda @samohxt2-0 @pinkpainc @vianitry
451 notes
·
View notes