-star cluster 151-

Hey there! I'm Lio (or star). I use neopronouns! (vi/vus/vour) Or just they/them. I draw, write, and talk about stupid stuff (mostly video games and music).

[your-new-valentine]

why am i cringe

[loish]

There’s a protest going on against AI art over on artstation, so I feel like now is the time for me to make a statement on this issue! 

I wholeheartedly support the ongoing protest against AI art. Why? Because my artwork is included in the datasets used to train these image generators without my consent. I get zero compensation for the use of my art, even though these image generators cost money to use, and are a commercial product. 

Musicians are not being treated the same way. Stability has a music generator that only uses royalty free music in their dataset. Their words: “Because diffusion models are prone to memorization and overfitting, releasing a model trained on copyrighted data could potentially result in legal issues.” Why is the work of visual artists being treated differently?

Many have compared image generators to human artists seeking out inspiration. Those two are not the same. My art is literally being fed into these generators through the datasets, and spat back out of a program that has no inherent sense of what is respectful to artists. As long as my art is literally integrated into the system used to create the images, it is commercial use of my art without my consent.

Until there is an ethically sourced database that compensates artists for the use of their images, I am against AI art. I also think platforms should do everything they can to prevent scraping of their content for these databases. 

Artists, speak out against this predatory practice! Our art should not be exploited without our consent, and we deserve to be compensated when our art is exploited for commercial use. 

[dead-endia]

Girl

Girl you are so naughty i better call Saul

[your-new-valentine]

does anyone had his number

[prompts-in-a-barrel]

“I see you got my letters.”

“Most of them.”

“I never got any from you.”

[your-new-valentine]

"Rence, we see each other almost every day." Henry did his best to hide his laughter as he spoke. "I can just talk to you like I am now."

It was the weekend before break. Neither of them had any family to go see. Neither of them had anywhere to be. They and Steph were left to sit and wait on campus until all normality resumed come January. Henry and Rence were walking through the campus's main square, trees dotting the paths to each building. It was cold, their breaths making themselves known with each word. It was lonely, but they were together, huddled close as they took slow steps.

"Don't you want something physical?"

Henry's eyes left the ground as Rence spoke up, looking over at his friend. "What?"

"I mean," Rence continued, "sure, we can talk each day... But you can't hold and keep those talks forever. You can't pin them to your wall or read them over and over again. I enjoy our talks," he reassured Henry, "but letters are different."

Henry glanced back at his feet, watching them step on each brick. He didn't do any of those things with Rence's letters. He suddenly felt like he should have. He shoved his hand in his pocket, resting it on the letter he had forgotten to read earlier that day. He felt guilty. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

All that followed was the whispering of the Autumn breeze, save for their footsteps. Neither really had much to say. As Henry mentioned, they see each other practically every day. What was there to say? His mind began to wander, trying to distract himself from his subtle guilt.

"It's fine if you don't read them."

Caught off guard, Henry's gaze shot up towards Rence.

"Maybe it's selfish of me to write to you so much."

Henry could feel his face warm up already. "I never said I didn't read them," he stuttered.

"You don't have to say anything, Henry." Rence rolled his head to the side, a gentle smile spreading across his lips. "You can read that letter now if you like."

Henry was flustered. How'd Rence know about the letter he left in his pocket? Maybe he had just seen it earlier when they got lunch. That had to be it. Henry shook his head; he couldn't believe he was so careless. "No, no, I'll wait till I'm back at my dorm." He felt a cold touch rest against his hand. He clasped his fingers around Rence's, sheepishly smiling. "Sorry."

"Don't be." A short squeeze warmed their palms. "Just don't forget this time, ok? I was happy with my handwriting this time around."

Henry couldn't help but chuckle. "Of course, of course..."

[the-cobbstone]

I wish the glowly little Walmart signs were edible

[your-new-valentine]

Visit Original Link

SynthV's Saki cover of Kokoro

i made dis. i just finished it like 10 minutes ago. its not great or perfect but. i made it completely by hand. no UST or anything. i just. did it. and im very proud of it. also i lowkey do not like saki's voice but i made it good and better. please let me know what u think. i am so happy. this is the first of many of my synthv babies. i promise

[your-new-valentine]

Huc Illuc - Here and There OC overview

hellow yes this is my little story called Huc Illuc, here and there in latin. i am so fancy yes yes. ok anyway heres a rundown of our main characters, bless their hearts i love them so dearly.

Rence Meldrim is a 23 year old student interested in only three things: nature, literature, and men. He struggles with minor narcolepsy, but is surprisingly wise nonetheless. He's often found reading or caring for his plants if not asleep.

He has olive skin, thin brown eyes, countless freckles, and chin-length brown curls usually kept in a small ponytail. He is African American and Filipino.

Henry Dolson is a 22 year old classmate of Rence's, a timid little thing craving someone, or something, to talk to. He may seem inward, but the closer one gets, the more they will see he is quite the opposite. He majors in English along with Rence, but is an avid musician, playing guitar and singing almost as much as he breathes.

He has warm, fair skin, green eyes, a few light freckles, glasses, and short but curly pale brown hair. He is English (ancestors from britain but hes not like. british.)

Shults Stepanovich, preferring to go by Steph, is a 26 year old student hailing from Russia. Being the eldest of the three, he finds himself being something of an older brother, caring and watching out for both Rence and Henry. Unfortunately, he has almost no common sense. He might be the oldest, but he more often seems to be the youngest.

He has cool, light skin, large brown eyes, earrings, and short, ruffled dirty blond hair.

Veraforta C. Torille is a druid of the woods near the college our three friends attend. At a young age, she was blessed by the Lord of House Senium, patriarch of a family of eldritch deities. Unfortunately, being young and naive, she had her power stolen from her. She still distrusts most humanity, but her curiosity and desperateness proves stronger than her lack of trust.

She has dark, coffee skin, blue almond eyes, long pointed ears, many many freckles (as many as the stars in the sky, she likes to say), earrings, a septum ring piercing, and curly pink hair (usually kept in twin buns and adorned with flowers).

Olivius Avison, known mostly as Oliver Avison, is a well-versed witch-boy reigning from a family of witches. He attends the same college as the three, studying botany to increase his knowledge of nature and all in it. Though seemingly small and unruly, he is truly no-nonsense and somewhat stern. His familiar is a duckling named Filo, always one for a bit of violence and rough-housing. The two are somewhat disagreeable, but get along nonetheless.

He as tan, golden skin, dark brown eyes, earrings, and short, fluffy brown hair. He is Italian and Welsh.

ok i hope you like them. i have a few tiny little drabbles involving them but its not much. i have bigger stuff planned but not done. i am so lazy tired life is hard. ok bye.

[prompts-in-a-barrel]

“I gotta be honest, this is not what I expected when I heard we were meeting a witch.”

“She’s so cool, isn’t she?”

“That’s one word for it.”

[your-new-valentine]

Oliver shook his head. A witch himself, he was not expecting to meet a druid-turned-diety who hides herself away in an abandoned mansion. "Is she even a witch?"

"I mean," Henry stumbled through his thoughts, "she's magical. That's... the same thing, right?"

Vera, the "witch" in question, scoffed and tossed back a few strands of her pink ringlets. "You think of me as a witch? Goodness. I trusted you three to honor my godhood."

"You're a god?!" Oliver threw his head back, trying not to groan. "I was expecting witchcraft. This is not even close to my domain, Henry. Rence," Oliver called out, "you should've told me she was a god."

"Demigod, actually." Rence grinned. His eyes sleepily blinked as he leaned against the nearby banister. "I thought I mentioned something to you about her, no?"

"Shit..."

A tiny voice called out from Oliver's bag. A duckling sheepishly peeked its head out from one of the side pockets.

"I might've forgotten to tell him."

"Oh right," Rence nodded, "I had Filo mention something to you. I suppose he didn't."

Oliver shoved Filo's head back into the bag, grumbling to himself "You're quite the useless familiar, aren't you? Anyway... So." Clearing his throat, he turned to Vera. "Let's try this introduction thing again, shall we?"

Vera slowly descended the marble stairs that led from her home, the patting of bare feet inching ever closer. "I suppose." Oliver, Henry, Rence, and, standing with Henry, Steph watched as she neared them. Her lace gown and flower-draped hair painted her in such an ethereal light one might believe her to be an angel. "I am Veraforta Camellia Torille of House Senium, a demigod blessed and chosen by Lord Senium himself." The breeze tossed petals from her rose-colored hair. Freckles glistened like stars on her skin, sparkling through the sunbeams falling through the treetops. Taking her final step, she lifted her hand to Oliver, beckoning for the formalities that she deserved.

Oliver bowed, kissing her extended hand. "I am Olivius Avison, boy-witch. This," he continued, pulling Filo out from his pocket as he stood, "is my duckling familiar, Filo."

"A pleasure," Vera smiled. "Your friends," she motioned towards the other 3, "have mentioned your abilities and prowess in magic to me. There is something I must ask of you, able as you are."

"I'll do as I can."

"Good. I myself am versed in magic, though, I'm sure not the sort you are familiar with. Even so, I believe you to be our best hope, for my magic has left my blood. I have lived here for decades, pondering what I have done to deserve such depravity, and I fear it may never return without proper intervention from one such as yourself. Am I right to call upon you, dear Olivius?"

"He can-" As he interrupted, Henry was nudged by Rence, stopping him from blurting anything out.

"While I can make no promises," Oliver replied, "my talents are yours to do with what you please."

Vera curtseyed, bowing her head. "I thank you, as will my House and our legacy if you can restore what I have lost. Now," she beckoned, "come join me inside, my dear. We shall speak more of my restoration in there." She turned, her skirt flowing as she lifted it up the stairs, Oliver jumping to follow close behind.

Henry's face was horribly red. He couldn't believe he called her a witch. How was he to know that was disrespectful? He barely knows what a witch even is, let alone a demigod! He felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder, turning to see it was Rence. His dark curls blocked his eyes from Henry's view, but he could tell they were closed. It'd be almost impossible for Rence to not be falling asleep at a time such as this. Either way, he spoke.

"Don't worry. It was a mere accident. You didn't mean to deny her being a demigod. She knows that."

Henry looked away, still embarrassed.

"Let's head inside, I'm getting cold," Rence sniffed.

"You're always cold, Rence," Steph called over. He pulled off his jacket and held it up to Rence who was barely moving. "You can wear my coat."

A smile slowly crept onto his face as he replied. "You're as kind as ever, Stephan."

[your-new-valentine]

some more bunny practice :) someday i will draw rabbitfolk so good that i become rabbitfolk god

[arfidhaver]

[your-new-valentine]

happy thanksgiving :) praying for everyone who usually has a hellish time today (me included). lets hope people dont treat us like babies <3

turkey do be kinda good tho

but not anything else

[brotherputrid]

if i make a typo u need to know im just a really small dude running around on my keyboargd pressing keys really fast and i tripped :(

[the-cobbstone]

@your-new-valentine

[your-new-valentine]

maybe just stop being so small like cmon man

[your-new-valentine]

i cant decide on a theme why is this so important yet so hard

[your-new-valentine]

not my best drawing but i felt i should. add this somewhere.

xelif!! my elden ring MC/OC. the 'tarnished.' she do kinda be blind in one eye. that comes from her, uh, host body. and magic. and the knifeprint. yknow. the one rogier was looking for. and fia just so happened to know the location of. ok bye.

[your-new-valentine]

vour first drawing :) i love vus so much vi're so cool. im super proud of this drawing too ababbaba some of the best hair ive drawn in a while. pls clap /j

[your-new-valentine]

elden ring au moment

spoilers ahead ofc!!!

so what if i made this AU just so rogier can live? and yea i wrote this all before i discovered fia fucking obliterates D. so i dont really. have anything for that yet. um. but we're getting there. maybe ill have rogier/MC just destroy fia just for fun :) anyway. some notes

Xelif Armier, a child born of glintstone and the body of a dead sorcerer, was created in the Academy of Raya Lucaria years before the Shattering. She was tested and observed throughout her "childhood" until some time after the beginning of the Shattering. Her memories were taken and stored in journals as she was released into the Lands Between as a "Tarnished." Though not a true Tarnished, she had no finger maiden to aid her. Of course, none are the wiser to her true origins, not even herself. As a soul created from the stars, Xelif has amazing control over glintstone sorceries and her connection to the Erdtree. Her ability to wield magic and holy incantations is immaculate while her loss of memory keeps her from her true potential, forcing her to relearn things she may have already known. But, she "learns" exceptionally quickly as remnants of that knowledge still reside within her.

xelif manages to raise rogier from the dead by interchanging her soul with rogiers. while bits of her soul remain in her body, most of it lies in the erdtree, taking the place of rogiers.

im gonna be real with you, i made all that glintstone soul stuff up cuz she has blue skin and i needed a canon excuse for why she would be blue. i just like blue people.

[your-new-valentine]

goofy lil elden ring AU thingy uhhhhh yes

super casual thingy i wrote just cuz i was feeling writey.

context: INCLUDES SPOILERS!!!!!!!! after rogier succumbs to deathblight, xelif (my main character/the tarnished) does a magical little exchange of souls so her artificially-made glintstone soul is replaced with rogiers soul. more on that later. thats not important right now.

ok story time.

he could hear her. just barely. when she spoke, even silence overpowered her voice. but he knew she was there. it was her body, after all. of course part of her soul would still reside in it. right? all he could do was make excuses as to why he kept hearing her speak. maybe he was just going insane. he wouldnt be surprised at this point. all he'd been through took a toll on him. thats not even considering all xelif had done for him. he owed her more than his life, and yet she gave him hers. he knew he had to keep working to make use of her gift, but... he couldnt help but feel guilty. guilty that she couldve done more. that he shouldve stayed dead. it was her destiny to become elden lord, not his. and yet here he was. on the precipice of divinity. or so it felt. was he immortal? or simply just living on borrowed time? this wasnt his body. was it even his soul? or is he just borrowing her soul as well? he could feel her tug on his conscience. it had to be her. it wasnt just his horrified imagination toying with him.