#not bestiary
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What AI Art is NOT
I keep seeing people refuting points from REAL ACTUAL ARTISTS using these talking points. So here’s a sort of FAQ of what I’ve seen.
Q: Isn’t AI Art is just a tool?
A: Tools include grids, perspective lines, rulers, apps like Sketch Up which place assets that are pre-designed and cannot be altered, et cetera. Tools are NOT: apps that draw the whole picture for you. If AI datasets were tools, then artists would also be tools. Artists aren’t tools.
Q: AI Art isn’t stealing art. It’s just like a collage.
A: I really want you to think about what a collage is versus the kind of art an AI dataset spits out. Are those things the same? Collages are derivative and generally fall under parody law, so long as the person creating them isn’t taking credit for the parts of the collage they didn’t photograph or draw. You cannot sell a collage of other peoples’ work without express written permission from those people. The elements of a collage are each separate and identifiable as such.
AI art is not a collage. The elements of an AI art piece are not separate and identifiable. They are combined into one single piece, where each piece cannot specifically be traced. AI art does not fit the definition of a derivative or parody work.
Q: If someone puts their art on the internet, it’s fair game.
A: Copyright law specifically disagrees with you on this point.
Q: If it’s not a collage and one can’t see the pieces of the art, doesn’t that make it an original work, and therefore, it’s not theft?
A: AI isn’t generating a new image. It’s taking pieces from many originals and “claiming” to make a new original piece. However, AI cannot generate these things without knowing what they are (IE skimming tags and allowing users to tell the AI what’s in the picture) Without the input of original artists, an AI would not be able to create anything, which is why most datasets include millions of pieces of art “scraped” (AKA stolen) from the internet. Currently, these pieces AI makes are being sold, and the owners of the datasets are charging for their use. This means that people who did not actually create the art are being paid, whereas the original artists are not.
Q: AI art can’t replace real artists. You’re fearmongering.
A: AI art has already replaced real artists. Shortly after Kim Jung Ji died, someone fed all his artwork into a dataset and “created” several new pieces that were almost identical to his style. Cosmopolitan magazine released a cover “drawn” by an AI and blatantly stated on the cover “and it only took 20 seconds to make.” A magazine article in The Atlantic used AI art to generate a photo of Alex Jones surrounded by papers. Someone submitted AI generated art to an art contest and won. Several anecdotal stories (not verified, but reliable) on Twitter state that small companies have fired their graphic designers or cut their work force. Commissioned artists have reported dropping sales numbers.
Corporations (and most people) will ALWAYS favor a cheaper option. If it’s good enough, it’s usable. The Cosmo magazine cover and the article header image were TERRIBLE, and they still went to print. Everyone should know by now that corporations will ALWAYS screw people over when they’re able to. If AI art becomes acceptable and commonplace, in-house artists will be replaced. This isn’t theoretical. It is already happening.
Q: It’s going to happen anyway. You can either embrace it or reject it. (Yes, this is real. Someone actually said this to me.)
A: Yes... Exactly. I’m rejecting it. Without laws to protect artists, I will fight AI art whenever and wherever I can. It might be fun and convenient for you, a non-artist, but it is terrifying and heartbreaking for artists. Websites like Deviantart and Clip Studio Paint who said “well it’s going to happen anyway” should have been the first line of defense against the creep of AI art, but they failed. It can only take over if people let it. Stop letting it.
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Arin loses at monopoly.
(I might color this one)
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~ Helmingham herbal and bestiary.
Place oforigin/Published: Helmingham, Suffolk
Date: ca. 1500
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Junjur kite - Bestiary log piece
close up shot
more info on them are available on my patreon :3
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A two for one post today.
Dragon posts for Smaugust.
The Maple Leaf Drake is a small to medium sized woodland dragon that populates temperate forests across the globe. Their unique body morphology allows them to hide, almost seamlessly, amongst vast maple forests. This physiological adaptation also extends to seasonal color changes throughout the year. They will live their lives hidden amongst the leaves, using their long proboscis bill to pierce through the bark of Maple Trees to extract the sweet sap, which makes up the majority of it’s diet.
Incredibly skittish, the Fearful Precious Red Coral Drake lives it’s life hidden amongst Red Coral. It’s long proboscis-like mouth snatching up small unsuspecting pray.
#concept art#creature design#fantasy art#creature concept#concept design#monster#creature#dragons#speculative evolution#sea monster#sea dragon#maple tree#forest spirit#fantasy illustration#bestiary#forest dragon#dragon concept art#smaugust#smaugust 2023
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The "shrimp colors" meme is part of a long and storied tradition of attributing wonderfully poetic, metaphorically rich, and completely spurious properties to animals and plants. Irises grow from lightning-struck ground, the pelican revives her chicks by drawing blood from her breast with her beak, weasels conceive through the mouth and give birth through the ear canal, the eagle flies up to the sun to burn old age from his eyes, and mantis shrimp see colors we cannot imagine.
It's the kind of thing that fills medieval bestiaries, folk medical traditions, and the writings of Pliny the Elder.
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Collectable woodblock prints commemorating individual conquests were commonplace in the theocracy, distributed by the church as a way to announce its victories.
get a print here :>
#setting: mez#just wanted to draw something mindless & fun tonight. what's up#medieval bestiary art#fantasy worldbuilding#pantera got the final blow in with aid from the other pictured beests
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#i gave the original to my cousin for christmas !!#i kept it b&w i was afraid that the different colors wouldnt match together#illustration#monster#bestiary#creature design#Supernatural in Scotland#Scotland#folklore#Europe
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les animaux de l'histoire
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And this, my friends, is a fractal horse, which was inspired by a glitch in a 3D model of a friend’s horse OC XDD
The portrait “sprouted” multiple snouts and I just had to take the idea and run off with it to “brew” more monsters.
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Éphéméride des Chimères, fourth Aqva.
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This is piece #1 I did for the Dan Avidan zine! I like doing these felt textures. <3
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Box your heart out, video game boy.
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Vūjigon (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)
Summary: Daemon has been having sex without love his whole life. It's easy. Marriage should be more of the same, right?
Warnings: Smut. Rough oral sex, male receiving. Daemon is smitten, he just doesn't know it.
A/N: Part two to this, can be read as a stand alone. You only need to know that they don't speak the same language. Whole credit for the idea of a blowjob / character study to @precious-little-scoundrel
Westeros was full of people who hated Daemon Targaryen. It had never bothered him. Daemon knew that when you were closer to a God than a man, there were many that would envy your position. Natural superiority was challenging to accept for those of inferior stock, after all.
Your father was the kind to care about that sort of thing. He had probably found out when the two of you had been trying to trap someone with Valyrian blood to marry you. Daemon wondered if you cared about that. Or if you thought about joining their ranks.
You very well might, after this. But since you had no words with which to air your grievances, Daemon wasn't too worried. Besides, there were plenty of wives who hated their husbands, and as far as he knew, you didn't seem to like commonplaces.
It was why he was going to introduce you to this practice, after all. Daemon hoped that your foreign education and your natural curiosity might stop you from slapping him.
He pulled you in for a kiss. Eager thing that you were, you sat yourself in his lap with a saucy grin. Daemon wondered at the walking dichotomy that you were. One second you could put the most expensive whores to shame with how wanton you were, the next you turned shy, still not having fully shredded your innocence.
“Bodmagho.” Daemon says, tapping your lower lip to get your attention. It proves a dangerous thing to do because you give him a little pout, pushing your lower lip against his thumb. And Seven Hells, Daemon is just a man. When you stick your lip like that, he wants to bite it so bad.
“…” You peer up at him, with your widest eyes. Clearly waiting for your lesson. Daemon can't focus. His cock throbs painfully in anticipation of what is to come. Your small, wet mouth, spreading around him. Hot and tight, just how he likes them, but made better, because this is a hole no one has ever used before. Your astonished eyes, when you hear what Daemon is about to propose.
You jab him in the ribs, hard. Daemon shakes himself out of his lust induced stupor. There is a lesson to be taught here. Otherwise, his fantasies will never come true.
He unbuckles his belt with one hand, lifting his hips to be able to lower his breeches. His movements jostle you, and the motion makes you giggle, so Daemon lifts his hips a few more times, making you bounce even more.
It’s not often that Daemon actively tries to make others laugh. Those times were left behind in his youth, when he didn't know of other ways of charming women. He thinks himself out of practice, but is pleased to notice that you do laugh. Defenseless, he just smiles back.
Daemon grabs your hand and guides it to his cock, between the both of you. A crimson red blush stains your cheeks, and you give him a wide-eyed look. This is the first time in all of your couplings that you have touched him there. He can feel your inexperience, the way your hand strokes way too lightly, trying to get used to the feel of him. Daemon knows it is fucked up, but it arouses him even further.
Nothing is better than a maiden's touch. Perhaps your grip isn't the best, nor do you have much of a rhythm going, but your hands are soft. He can tell just by the skin on your palms that you are a lady. Someone who should be loved and protected, and that is currently debasing herself for his pleasure. The thought makes his stomach clench, cock hardening.
There is a tiny furrow on your brows, almost confused by what you are feeling. You lean in and kiss him, and unsubtly try to peek a glance at his member. Daemon chuckles, and opens up his posture even more, letting you look as much as you want. He even guides your hand on a few strokes, showing you how to touch him to get him hard.
The sight of your small hand wrapped around his shaft threatens to lead him to insanity. It's made even worse by the fact he has to guide your hand when you get a little shy. Daemon wraps his hand around yours, dwarfing it, and jerks himself off inside your smaller fist.
He is fully hard in almost no time, and he then lets go of your hand to allow you to explore on your own. Almost without noticing, you rub the head of his cock. Some of his seed is already leaking. You smear it around, curiously chirping something or another in that language of yours. Daemon has no idea what you are saying, but it amuses him how similar your accent is to those from Dorne.
They say the most beautiful women are from Dorne. Daemon wouldn't be surprised if you had family there. You are a lovely little thing, all sultry eyes and a pouty mouth that you use to great effect. You seem bright, though his assessment of your intelligence is seriously impaired by the language barrier.
Some men at court have jested about his luck, in finding a wife that never nags. Daemon no longer shares their opinion. At first, he had, but now he finds himself often wishing he could speak your language. See what hides behind your eyes, get to know you in more profound ways. Sometimes, even, he catches himself trying to find translations of his favorite books to see if you would like them.
He smiles at you, fondly, before shoving you off his lap. You let out a startled yelp, before coming up to your hands and knees. You glare at him, starting to push yourself up. Daemon stops you.
“Daor.” He says, trying to get you to stay on your knees. And fuck, if the sight of you kneeling between his spread legs doesn't do something to him. You obey with a confused and hurt look. Daemon cannot stand it. His pretty girl, all pouty and feeling unwanted. He can’t have that, can he? “Vūjigon.”
You stare.
“Come on. Vūjigon.” Daemon repeats. You still give him a puzzled look, tilting your head to the side. He fights the urge to coo at you. Instead, Daemon points to his cock, and brushes his fingers over your pouty lips. “Vūjigon.”
Sudden understanding lights up your face. The triumph at understanding what he wants only last a second, though. You balk, trying to get up. Apparently, even non westerosi noblewomen know that what Daemon is asking is somewhat debasing.
A whore's trick, Mysaria had called it, when she first introduced him to the practice. Daemon had greatly enjoyed seeing her on her knees, subjected to the indignity of having him thrust wildly inside her mouth.
With you, it was bound to be even better. There was nothing like corrupting innocence, and nothing like bringing uppity women to heel. Daemon had been eager to do this, picturing it the whole day. His pretty highborn girl, wantonly sticking her pink tongue out, eager to lap up his seed.
Rebelling, you tried to get up. Daemon placed a hand on your shoulder, and firmly ordered.
“Daor.”
You spluttered something and glared. Daemon glared back. He stared you down until you lowered your eyes. There was a prideful look in your eyes, quickly being replaced by embarrassment.
Daemon brushed your pretty hair back and gently repeated his order.
“Vūjigon.”
This time, you folded. You pressed a kiss to his shaft, scrunching up your face. Daemon tutted, and smoothed down your frown.
“Ñuha kēlītsos.” Daemon smiled. His kitten. You glared, but understood that word well enough. You gave him small, kitten licks, making him shudder. Daemon had been planning this for almost a fortnight. You probably now understood his insistence at teaching you the names of animals, and your indignation was justified. All your lessons had been for naught but his hedonist tendencies.
His eyes dropped. The look on your face was priceless. All prideful highborn girl forced to do something she thought demeaning. With your pretty jewels and expensive dress, you were all that he had fantasized about and more. The gift that keeps on giving. His precious, obedient girl.
“Daor?” Daemon asks, softening a little. He doesn't want you to suffer, after all. Only be a little uncomfortable. You stop your kisses and kitten licks to give him a fierce look.
“Bodmagho.” You glower, before wrapping your pretty mouth around his leaking tip. Your brows furrow a little at the taste, but you look up at him, patiently.
Daemon can feel the heat of your gaze going straight to his cock. It turns impossibly hard. He lightly caresses your cheek with his thumb. You blink up at him, shy.
Never before have you looked more gorgeous than with your pretty mouth stretched around his cock. Daemon beckons you closer with a hand gesture, encouraging to take more of him inside. Molten, liquid heat accumulates in the base of his spine when you give a little awkward shuffle on your knees, advancing towards him.
He keeps petting your hair and muttering sweet nothings that you are probably unable to understand. You press forward, gluttonous little thing that you are, until you are choking on him. Daemon has to slow you down then because no matter how delectable your throat feels when contracting and spasming around him, the sight of tears on your face is not as arousing as he expected.
Somehow, it looks better on whores. He would like much better to see you stricken and crying from pleasure than pain.
You are his precious girl. Not deserving of rough treatment, of having to kneel on rough floors. Fuck, he hadn't even checked to see if you had a rug under your knees. He was a cunt. Daemon yanks you off his cock, and pulls you upwards. He places you on his lap.
You pout. You try to go back to his cock. He brushes the tears away from your face and wipes the corners of your mouth, getting rid of the spit gathering there. He even presses a kiss to your forehead.
“Daor, kēlītsos.” Daemon kisses you, softly. You respond poorly to the endearment, probably because you can't understand what he means. You associate it straight away with sucking his cock, which he now realizes wasn't the best idea. He taps at your lower lip to get your attention and rubs his face against your neck. You giggle, squirming like there is no tomorrow. “Kēlītsos.” Daemon orders, and you rub yourself against him, all kitten like. It would be the most adorable thing he has ever witnessed, were it not for the fact that you are rubbing against his hard cock.
He holds you to him with one hand, and unbuttons your dress just enough so he can pull your teats out. For the first time in the night, you struggle. You pull your dress up and squirm, trying to cover yourself. Daemon gives you a warning growl, and holds your hands to your sides.
You avert your eyes. Your shoulders hunch, as if you are trying to hide yourself. Embarrassed, Daemon realizes. You are embarrassed.
“Daor.” He kisses your jaw, then your neck, and makes his way to your pretty teats. He cups them in his hands. “Gevie.”
“Gevie?” You frown, puzzled. So Daemon repeats it fumblingly in your language, until your face lights up, and you are fully convinced he is calling you nothing but pretty. You give him a blinding smile, and something in him warms at seeing you so happy. He decides to just grind his hips against yours while fondling you a little. He can try teaching you how to suck his cock another night. After all, as a married couple, you had all the time in the world.
#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon smut#daemon targaryen smut#prince daemon x reader#daemon x reader#daemon targaryen x you#prince daemon x you#daemon x you#prince daemon x y/n#daemon x y/n#daemon fanfic#daemon x oc#bestiary series#daemon targaryen x fem oc#daemon targaryen x y/n#daemon targaryen x female reader#daemon targaryen x oc#hotd x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd daemon#hotd#asoiaf fanfic#asoif fanfic#asoif/got#daemon fluff
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Mimicry is a common evolutionary path for many “magical fauna”, including drakes. While many of the larger more impressive dragons have evolved outside of this, smaller drakes took to mimicry in vast numbers. From mimicking plants to insects mimicry is one of the major defense mechanisms for smaller dragons.
#concept art#creature design#fantasy art#creature concept#concept design#monster#fantasy#dragons#speculative biology#dragon#conceptart#creaturedesign#creatureconcept#fantasyart#illustration#bestiary#worldbuilding#dungeonsanddragons#artistoninstagram#digitalart#monstergram#sketch#wyvern#magicthegathering#creatuanary#insect#bug#rhinocerosbeetle#stickbug#beetle
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