#unethical human transformation

[magentaisntrealreal]

CUTTING IT CLOSE ENJOY YALL

#whumptober2022 #no.2 #nowhere to run #cornered #caged #confrontation #tbhk #fic #character death #tsukasa yugi #evil circus #knife throwing #unethical human transformation #nene yashiro #hanako-kun #toilet bound hanako kun #au #failed escape #whump

[milkyhoneybee]

Unethical magic friend who uses you to solve their problems without asking you or considering your comfort

They ran out of milk for their morning coffee? They snap their fingers and suddenly your tits are massive and leaking milk. They take what they need and don't bother changing you back until they remember hours or days later, even if you try to remind them they just wave you off saying 'sure, sure, I just need to finish working out this summoning circle' and get distracted again

Sometimes they read something in a book that gets them horny or there's something they couldn't figure out, or they just pass someone in the market who takes their fancy, so guess who's helping them recreate it? You lose track of the amount of times you've been turned into the current object of their desires-- you don't even remember what your original hair colour was at this point, though you think you're mostly the same as you were when they change you back... but, enough subtle differences over time can build up...

Not to mention the times you've ended up with tentacles or horns or fangs or a foot long tongue, genitals of every configuration, or been transformed into slime and used just for their pleasure, or, more humiliatingly, been used in some test or experiment, or used to get spell ingredients

You would leave, you think, even if it didn't usually feel so good you lose control of yourself, but you didn't realise how binding a mage's "friendship bracelets" were when you first accepted it when you became friends, and now even if you do go anywhere, they can summon you back without trouble

They just conjure you some souvenir or some kind of 'treat' if you complain, and you feel your cheeks flush with the patronising nature of it. None of your complaints are ever taken seriously

Sometimes they'll summon a demon or other creature either for information or for some task, and you've ended up being used as payment or to placate them. You start drooling and going weak at the knees whenever you smell succubus milk or incubus cum from the amount of times you've been exposed to it already-- you're honestly worried it'll become an addiction before too long...

The one time you tried to sabotage one of your friends spells, hoping they'd get a taste of their own medicine, and while at first it was satisfying seeing their look of panic when the magic went awry, it didn't last long...

When you looked at their spell book and saw they were trying to create an armour spell as strong as dragon scales, you figured out just what your interference had caused, watching those glistening sapphire scales spread along their growing, shifting limbs, long claws growing in, a tail stretching out behind them, horns and wings starting to form

Unfortunately, your friend was still conscious enough to realise it was you that had caused the issue, and they had no qualms about 'punishing' you for it

Increasingly they grew larger and stronger than you, long maw full of sharp fangs and a wicked tongue grinning as they pinned you down under one paw. The tongue that shoved itself inside you was larger than some of the cocks you'd taken before, making you squeal and writhe, body shaking when the edge of claws sent little trickles of blood down your thighs and sides. They pressed you down harder into the floor, growling like a thunderstorm and started fucking their tongue into you. Suddenly, their haunches were over your face, their serpentine body much more flexible and longer than their human one, and your eyes widened at the sight of the cock hanging heavy and flushed, pushing past the split of scales between their legs

Even trying to keep your mouth closed didn't save you, your draconic friend simply smothering you with their cock until you were forced to take a breath, and after letting you get a little air, they took the opportunity to ram their cock straight down your throat. You can't fight back at all as they fill you from both ends, feeling like a toy being hollowed out

Their cock is covered in ridges and the slick confines of your throat drag against them in a way that, from what you can still manage to piece together due to the lack of consistent air, must feel good. They even get their tail wrapped around your throat, making your watering eyes roll up as they tighten their hold

You pass out, of course

Thankfully, they must have pulled out before the lack of air completely did you in (though you have no way to tell, perhaps they could still cast necromantic magic in dragon form?) but you come to in fits and starts, finally piecing enough of yourself together when you're being held in both of their front paws, your hole stretched and leaking around their cock as they bounce you up and down its length

From the way your belly sloshes, and how sticky your legs are (not to mention the rest of you, you assume), you can guess they've already cum in you a few times while you were out cold

When the draconic mage finally finishes with you, you're left slumped over, face half laying in a puddle of cum and you don't think you'll ever not smell like it or if you'll ever taste anything else again. You don't know if you can even talk any more from having your throat so thoroughly fucked. Not to mention if your holes will recover after being stretched out and absolutely ruined on that massive dragon cock...

Of course, leaving them a dragon doesn't seem like a good idea for anyone. Once you get enough energy and brain cells to rub together, and manage to clean up a bit, you get herded over to their spell book. They eventually nudge you and manage to gesture, growl, and, at times, roughly manipulate you, until you can brew a potion to change them back

Once they're back on two legs? 'Well, that was fun, wasn't it?'

#nsft fantasy #nsft concept #tf kink #unethical mage #monster fucker #objectification kink

[minimalistsource]

The s’more. The most offensive assault on the human palette ever contrived. Unethically sourced chocolate and gelatinised sugar water imprisoned by industrial-grade graham cracker. It’s everything wrong with us and yet we associate it with innocence. With childhood. Mom and Dad. But what transforms this fucking monstrosity is fire. The purifying flame. It nourishes us, warms us, reinvents us, forges and destroys us. We must embrace the flame. We must be cleansed. Made clean. Like martyrs, or heretics, we can be subsumed and made anew.

THE MENU (2022) dir. Mark Mylod

#the menu #films #* #*flo #filmedit #the menu 2022 #themenuedit #filmgifs #cinematv #dailyflicks #userbbelcher #chewieblog #moviegifs

[gothhabiba]

What makes most "uninhabited wilderness narratives" more similar to like. The European settlement of the Americas than the Polynesian exploration of islands. Like I also get that vibe but I can't form a coherent ideological reason and you seem like maybe you could put it to words.

You’re getting it backwards if you think that the criticism of the “terra nullius” narrative consists of “it’s unethical to go to, poke around, or settle a place that was actually previously uninhabited by human beings.”

Rather, "terra nullius" is a set of concepts and frameworks created and disseminated by Europeans over the course of European settler-colonisation. It consists, roughly, of ideas about land (it is inactive, to-be-acted-upon, eternally stagnant if not acted upon; it must be 'worked' and this work is backbreaking, unpleasant, and a moral and religious duty; 'working' the land completely transforms it; the land is valuable and ownable insofar as it is worked and transformed; land can be bought, sold, and traded)—

—ideas about exploration (another way to act upon land, which is to-be-acted-upon, is by 'exploring' it; 'exploring' land, naming it, mapping it, viewing it from above, even painting landscapes of it. are activities that give you authority and ownership over the land; 'exploration' produces knowledge about land, which only Europeans can produce and disseminate)—

—and ideas about Indigenous peoples (they have not 'worked' the land or claimed ownership in a way we recognise; thus they have no control, authority, or ownership of the land; because of this they are the land, part of the flora, fauna, and landscape to be explored, mapped out [as in linguistics and anthropology], controlled, moved, worked [read: enslaved], and killed; and, crucially, in a final move, once they have been moved or killed, they were never here in the first place).

These ideas arose variously in European scientific, literary, religious, legal, and literary discourses; in sermons, in travel narratives, in paintings, in memoirs and folk stories written by settler-colonists and sailors and traders. They arose partly as a development of things that had already been happening in Europe in the transition to capitalism (enclosure and other forms of primitive accumulation that rendered once-public resources, including land, private property), and partly as a response to the fact that this land was not empty of human life.

Plainly, there were people in the Americas, in Oceania. In fact, they had altered the land in various ways. The scientific and anthropologic majority, at least in Europe from the 17th to the 19th centuries, even held that they were descended from the same stock as Europeans were (though there was debate on that score). Nevertheless, there were resources and money and land (among other things) to be gained through colonisation and genocide.

The idea that these lands, then, were terrae nullius, empty lands, arose as justification for said settling and genocide. There were never people here, and if there were, then they didn't really have the right to be here; they didn't claim the land in ways that Europeans or their descendents legally recognised (in other words, Europeans created property laws on purpose in such a way to deny Indigenous peoples property rights); perhaps they didn't work the land because they were inherently lazy, or promiscuous, or gluttonous, or savage, and that's how a legal discourse becomes a 'racial' one.

So the answer to your question is basically: because Europeans are the ones who wrote "uninhabited wilderness narratives." Because (the peoples who would become) Polynesians in 3000 BC did not invent a bunch of related popular, religious, scientific, legal, and literary discourses in order to deny or justify the fact that they were enslaving, driving off, or slaughtering millions of human beings, this just has nothing to do with them.

#terra nullius #colonialism #imperialism #colonization

[corazondebeskar-reads]

of rage and ruin - chapter one

of rage and ruin series

chapter one

series masterlist | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.1k

summary: Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He turns into a much different kind of monster than he expected, though.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, torture, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, gore, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), death, murder of innocent people, typical raider/hunter behavior, mention of cordyceps, angst, no y/n, reader is able-bodied and afab with no specific descriptions, viewer discretion is advised

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

This is a werewolf omegaverse fic that uses traditional and non-traditional elements of the genres. It largely ignores TLOU canon.

DISCLAIMER: A plotline of this story involves unethical medical care and human experimentation re: vaccines. It may give anti-vax vibes. This is NOT an anti-vax story and I do not want any related discourse please and thank you. This is about FEDRA being the absolute worst, not about the real world in any way.

In a rare moment of lucidity, he thinks he used to be human, once. 

He’s partially transformed more often than not. Almost never fully, unless he’s under the sway of the moon. His real keeper. 

These raiders may think they own him, but he knows the truth. 

But lucidity is rare, and most of the time, Joel Miller is more beast than man. 

Most of the time, he doesn’t even know he’s Joel Miller.

No matter what, though, he’s a nearly uncontrollable force of nature. 

That’s why they keep a shock collar around his neck and tasers at their waists. That’s why they never turn their backs or leave him unrestrained. He fought like hell for a long time until he broke. 

No shame in it, he knows. Everyone breaks eventually. 

As the years have gone on, though, he’s been getting restless and snippy, less cooperative. And the pain doesn’t really matter anymore. 

Nothin’ really does when you’ve given up.

On the last new moon, when the wolf was quiet and the man was loud, he’d tried to refuse. He sat, buck-ass naked, on the gritty wood floor of the house they were raiding. 

He did not sniff out treasure like some fucking metal detector. He did not tear the humans limb from limb. He did not feast. 

He paid for that night and had the receipts to prove it, laid into his back from the silver-tipped whip. 

He should have tried harder to die at the start. 

He hadn’t understood right away, when they took him. It, frankly, didn’t even cross his mind that they’d know. Laura, the woman in the woods, had been so sure it was secret. 

He got it when they shot him in the leg with a BB gun, though, and the silver shrapnel burned. They were prepared. Silver-coated chains and cuffs, silver-tipped batons and whips and knives. Cattle prods and electric collars. 

They’d been hunting him. 

They tried to break him easy, first. They were looking for a wolf; didn’t know they’d find Joel Miller. They left him chained in an abandoned suburb, giving him just the minimum food and water to keep him alive. 

It worked to weaken him, but they didn’t want him weak forever. Not a very good guard dog or weapon if he can’t lift his head. So when that didn’t work, when he didn’t beg and plead or bend the knee, they gave up and bulked him back up slowly. 

So they tried pain next. 

He came to know the healing as a curse. They avoided the silver, at least at first, since it’d leave damage. But when they found out they could break his bones over and over and over?

That’s when he started to wish he was dead. What was the point, anyway? He couldn’t go back to Boston. Couldn’t risk himself around Tommy and Tess. 

Couldn’t kill himself if he tried, but they could, with their arsenal. 

Didn’t matter what he wanted in the end; his brain wouldn’t give in. It overrode his silent pleas, and it fought and fought and fought.

So they took him on a raid. Starving, chained under the full moon, and they waited. He couldn’t go far, but he didn’t have to. 

They brought the food to him.

“You’ve no control over it, huh?” Cheryl said after, leering into his “room.” They send her to play nice, but he knows she’s the worst of them all. They just think he’ll smell pussy and roll over. “We didn’t need you to kill them. You just need to scare them and help us find what we’re lookin’ for.”

They had him. He knows, he knows, he knows. He’d have done anything to stop it from happening again. From devouring tied-up families who dared to say “no” to Jim and his crew. From throwing up blood and bones and bows. 

He can’t kill himself. They won’t kill him. He had no choice. 

He broke.

This new moon, they don’t take him out to scavenge. No, instead, they drag him outside and spray him down with the hose. This, in itself, is not unusual. But when they force the muzzle over his snapping teeth to scrub at his skin with precious lye soap and a rag, he starts to get concerned. 

His suspicions are confirmed when they take him back inside. 

The only time he’s left unbound is here, in his room. Well. It meets the vague requirements for a room, but it’s also reinforced with silver-plated steel and concrete. Cheaply so, but enough to mute his senses and hopes. 

Usually, they wait until the grate is shut to unclip the lead. They wait until he kneels and offers his hands to unlock the shackles. When he’s been good, of course. 

But not today. Today, they chain him tight to the wall at the far end of the room. 

They’ve had this theory that he hates to admit is not without merit. Looking for another way to control him, they’ve tried to find him an omega. 

The first few times, they just forced him on them out wherever they’ve raided. Usually, he’s too out of control, and they don’t survive the encounter. 

The most recent time, they dumped one in his cell. But the poor thing still smelled of his alpha, having only lost them hours earlier. 

Joel didn’t react well. 

They’re trying something new, now. 

That he’s here while they clean his room is deliberate. He knows this. They’re purging all his scent from it, and they want him to watch, want him unsettled.

He growls when they remove his mattress completely. It’s a pathetically small, thin, hole-ridden thing, but it’s his. 

Before they drag in a new one, a flat pack of grated metal is tossed in the corner. Two of his captors go to work on assembling the contraption, and another leaves for a while, only to return with a sawed-off portion of his mattress. 

It fits neatly inside the cage. For that’s what they’ve constructed. It’s silver-coated, of course, but pathetically weak otherwise. If he truly desired, he could snap the bars as easily as bone. 

He’s not keen on having burnt hands, though. 

Just inside the front of the cage, they clip up a bit of cloth. He doesn’t need to be told what it is, knowing immediately after it’s extracted from the airtight glass Tupperware. 

They tell him anyway. “Got a new toy for you to try, if you’re good. For now, this is all you get.”

The heady scent of omega soaked into the panties permeates his room. 

He’s salivating a little by the time they finally release him, but he waits until the heavy footfalls echo from down the hall to give in. 

They smell divine. He can’t resist tasting, lapping at the tiniest hint of musk and omega under his elongated tongue. 

“Told ya he would have shredded her,” Jim says to Cheryl when they come in the morning with his breakfast. Joel’s in his mind enough to feel a little shame, back of his neck burning, when they see the tattered fabric. 

It’s clear they anticipated it because, along with his tray, he’s given a new pair. 

They’re not so appealing this time. The sweet scent is cut by acidic fear like vinegar through molasses. He ignores them in favor of his meal. 

He eats better here than he ever did out there. He’s worth more rations to the raiders than to FEDRA. Robust meals full of meat and eggs and potatoes. 

They need him strong, after all. 

It’s not until a few hours later that he’s drawn back in by the underwear. It’s not so acrid anymore. Or maybe it is, and he’s just in the mood. Either way, he buries his face in them while he strokes his cock and uses them to catch his cum when he finishes. 

There. That’s better. The mix of him with… whoever you are. 

When they bring him lunch, they make him put the panties on his old tray before pushing it out to them. He doesn’t burn with shame this time; no, he almost feels proud. Like a peacock fluffing out its feathers. They know now. They must. 

Whoever you are, you’re his. 

The next day, they bring back the same pair. He wolfs out a little at the fresh layer of you over his cum. It’s all fear and tears and disgust, but it doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter at all, not to him, not to the wolf. 

All that matters is how his head fills with static when he licks across the gusset and howls. 

Cheryl’s looking pretty smug on the other side of the door, but for all that she’s pleased with the results; they still threaten to turn on the collar if he doesn’t eat quickly.  

He’s nearly fully wolf, gobbling down the food and returning to his treasure. He snarls as he strokes his cock, the head angry and purple as he tugs. He doesn’t spill onto the panties this time, not wanting to cover up the perfect combination of your scents. In the end, they’re shredded anyway, as his fingers stretch and break into claws. 

In his full glory, his senses are even sharper. Sharp enough that he can hear a faint sobbing across the building and Cheryl’s sharp laughter. 

“I don’t know,” she’s drawling when he tunes in. “He sounds pretty excited to meet you.”

The soft sobbing turns raw and cracked. He can smell the salt and phlegm, can practically taste it in the air. He’s aware of Cheryl, but nothing is louder than the way your heart is tripping over itself.

When Cheryl’s words sink in, when he realizes he might actually get to have whatever delicious creature they’ve gotten him, he howls again, a long, aching sound that creeps down your bones like frost.

Later, when he’s a little more present, he realizes they didn’t shock him either time he howled. It’s usually a guarantee. 

Whatever game they’re playing, it doesn’t bode well for you.

Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He wasn’t even worried when it happened. They’d been heading back to the QZ, him and Tommy and Tess, when a wild dog attacked them. 

Or, well. A wolf. 

Tommy had gotten a bullet in its head, but it had Joel’s arm in its jaw at the time. Its teeth had rent through his jacket like a spoon in a banana split. 

FEDRA would shoot him without a second thought, so they doubled back to the little cabin and hunkered down. Figured they’d lay low long enough for it to be hideable before sneaking back in. 

Tommy went out at daybreak for the carcass—it’d be leagues better than what they had in their bags. When he came back, he was faint and empty-handed. 

“...don’t make any sense,” he kept muttering, pacing the tiny kitchenette. 

Joel and Tess exchanged a glance. 

“Probably a bear took it,” she suggested.

Tommy ran his hand through his hair, shook his head, and did it again. When he looked up at them, it was through wild, unpredictable eyes. “Wasn’t a wolf. It was a man.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Joel said.

“C’mon.”

They followed him through the thicket, and sure as shit, in the same place the wolf’s corpse had lain was a man with a bullet through his skull. He was completely nude. 

“Gotta be a coincidence,” Joel muttered.

Tommy turned to him, eyes wide and hands shaking. “What kind of fucking coincidence is this?” 

There was a rustle, and they all turned, guns raised, as a woman peeked from behind a tree. 

She put her hands up and waited. Tess jerked her head to one side, and they lowered but did not stow their weapons. 

The woman was in a ratty cotton dress with no shoes; autumn leaves crunching underfoot. 

“That’s, um. That’s my husband,” she said softly. 

“Apologies, ma’am,” Tommy said, his face soft and sad. “But—I think he attacked us.”

Her green eyes grew wide, pupils dilating and breath catching in her chest. “Did you get bit?” 

Tommy and Tess instinctually looked at Joel. 

“What’s it to ya?” he said.

“Did you get bit?” she repeated.

“Was he Infected?”

“Not with cordyceps, no,” she says. She avoids looking at the body but flinches when she brushes a foot against a blood-soaked leaf. 

“What does that mean?” Tommy said. 

“I think it’s best we go someplace and talk.”

Against better judgment, they follow her through the words to her home. She claims to have two kids alone there, four years and six months. 

It turns out to be true. She gets them both down for a nap and serves hot stew. They try to refuse, but she insists. 

Tommy feels a little sick eating the food of a man he killed. They all listen, rapt, as she begins to speak.

“It happened a year ago. But it wasn’t an accident.”

When the full moon is two days away, Joel is nearing the furthest from himself. Same shit, different month, but his reactions to your scent are getting, well, feral. 

They’re bringing him strips of cloth, now. He gets a new one with each meal. He doesn’t destroy them anymore. Oh, no. When he’s clearer, he wishes he did. 

But no. He smells and licks and then jerks off with them. If only that were the worst of it. He’ll come to be mortified during the waning, but he starts to add them to the cage. It’s fairly saturated with the smell of him from his old mattress, but it pleases the beast within to line it with the sweet mixture soaked into the torn sheets. 

You’ll understand, then, the wolf thinks. You’ll know it’s safe for you. Somewhere he’s made, a den all your own where he can keep you. 

But you won’t know, because what you know is very little. 

When FEDRA started asking for volunteers to test vaccines, you didn’t hesitate. You knew the risks. And the rewards—room and rations for the length of the observation period, anywhere up to a year in length. You knew there would be a catch—probably many, but given that you rarely had a room or rations, it wasn’t a hard choice.

But this was the end of the world, and “informed consent” was not something that survived the outbreak. 

They worked in batches. A truckload of live bodies at a time. Sterilizing showers with the barest trace of privacy, dressed in stiff starchy scrubs, and led into little cubicles where nurses with needles sat in wait. 

A quick jab to the upper arm, and then you were off. The hospital was an old correctional facility, but again, for someone who hadn’t had a bed on a reliable basis, you felt only relief. 

Until the deaths started.

They didn’t even try to hide it. Within 24 hours of arrival, a fourth of your group was gone. Carted out in black bags marked with β and nothing more said. You watched through your window like everyone else. 

Someone came around the next day and drew blood from every remaining subject, and the tagging began after that. You could see the symbols on other’s doors, but not your own. α or Ω. What they meant, you couldn’t begin to guess. 

It started not long after. 

The changes.

At first it was so subtle, you may not have noticed, but a nurse came by each day to ask you a series of increasingly embarrassing questions. 

What do you smell? What do I smell like? What does your sweat smell like? How sensitive are your breasts? Describe your vaginal discharge. How aroused are you on a scale of 1-10? 

They began weekly tests. Blood draws once a week and daily urine samples, of course, but also hearing and vision. They made you run on a treadmill hooked up to wires. 

And then, one day, after six months of intensive observation, they moved you.

Or. They tried to.

You were exhibiting a specific set of side effects, they said. You were to be transferred to another facility for subjects with the same side effects for further observation. 

Raiders took out the truck halfway through the ten-hour journey. It was… it was a bloodbath, actually. For the FEDRA officers, anyway. 

When they had you all lined up, grippy socks soaking in the ankle-deep mud, well, that was when you all learned which symbol was on your door. They couldn’t keep the word out of their mouths. Omega. 

Not that it fucking explained anything.

One by one, a short blonde with a bob went down the line of you and shoved something up to each omega’s face. That’s it. It seemed to have no greater purpose.

But for some reason, when she pressed the cloth against your nose and mouth, she smiled. And they separated you.

Whatever that was had a deep, oaky musk, like the illicit brewery operating out of the warehouse you often slept in before the trials. 

They tell you nothing.

They make you sleep on strips of cloth, so you roll around in the pile as you toss and turn, rubbing your sweat and slick and pheromones all over. 

They don’t bring you anything of his, but you catch faint whiffs of him (him, always him, they never call him by a name), of those aged, liquor-soaked barrels, but all it does is make you nauseous. You don’t understand how you know it’s him; you still don’t understand any of it. 

You learn very quickly not to ask questions. 

They take him out on the night the moon is full and bloated, hanging over him like a searchlight. See, it whispers, I can find you anywhere. Anywhere. It doesn’t matter. If it didn’t, the wolf would find it anyway. 

He is not himself.

He is his truest self.

He is two or one; neither yet both. A monster movie mashup of fur and teeth and roughshod science experiments conducted by a doctor who wasn’t a doctor at all. He’s the monster’s victim. He’s the monsters’ monster. 

He’s the wolf and the wolf is him. 

He’s The Wolf and he’s swallowed Joel down. 

He’s the man, the weak link, buried so deep he can’t see the light of his celestial mistress 

He’s Joel Miller. Sometimes, sometimes. 

Tonight, he is gone. There is only the Wolf. 

And the Wolf knows. As soon as they cross the threshold, he knows. 

Dawn is rising, the hunt is over, but he’ll be the wolf for a while longer. And he knows that fuckin’ smell. 

It’s the saccharine sour mix of you. Heavy on your sweet apple undertones, and oh, he knows. 

You’re in the cage.

next chapter

*title from "Bad Moon Rising" by Creedence Clearwater Revival.

😬 I've been working on this baby for a long, long time, so I will be drinking your likes and comments desperately. thank you for reading and i love you.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #alpha!joel miller x omega!reader #alpha!joel miller #werewolf joel miller #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #dark fic #dead dove fic #a/b/o verse #fic: of rage and ruin #a/b/o au

[corruptedcaps]

Moral Objection: Part One

This is a custom story written for @callmekeira who suggested my new profile pic.

Keira's days began before the sun had even considered waking, her coffee-fueled determination propelling her through labyrinthine legal texts and intricate case studies. As a junior associate at a prestigious law firm, she had always harbored a genuine desire to help people, to right wrongs, and to see justice served. But the deeper she delved into the firm's operations, the more disillusioned she became.

The towering glass and steel façade of the law firm masked an undercurrent of ambition that disregarded the very values Keira held dear. Partners and senior associates reveled in their power, often at the expense of ethics. However, the embodiment of this ruthlessness was Elissa, the firm's most dazzling partner. It was an open secret she used her outrageous beauty to climb quickly in the law firm, but it was her cold, calculating gaze that left a lasting impression on anyone who dared cross her path.

Keira, despite her best intentions, had managed to draw Elissa's ire more than once, always advocating for fairness, for the human element in the cases they handled. And as the sun dipped beneath the city's skyline, the relentless buzz of fluorescent lights bathed the dimly lit office in an eerie glow. Keira was just packing up to leave when her blood went cold as Elissa's frosty voice cut through the air. "Keira, darling," she purred, striding towards her desk, "I need you to stick around. We have a bit of a situation with Alphabraun. They are threatening to move their business elsewhere and you and I are going to convince them to stay.”

Despite Keira’s dislike of Elissa she was somewhat flattered that she was being asked by a top performing partner for help. However her decision was easy, especially consider the clients.

“Alphabraun are amoral and disgustingly unethical. I say we let them leave, maybe then we can attract more right thinking and conscientious companies.” Keira said somehow finding the courage.

Elissa's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a disdainful smile. "Oh, Keira, you truly have a lot to learn. Perhaps you need a little push in the right direction." Without warning, Elissa's perfectly manicured hand shot out, her nails cutting Keira's arm. Keira recoiled, shock coursing through her as her skin tingled beneath Elissa's touch.

"What have you done?" Keira gasped, staring at the faint, glowing mark on her arm. Elissa leaned in, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Something to make you see my point of view, dear. You'll thank me later." Keira watched, both mystified and alarmed.

A rush of warmth surged through Keira's veins, radiating from the mark on her arm. Her heart pounded, and she felt her senses sharpening, as if the world around her was coming into crystalline focus. As the sensation enveloped her, she realized her wound was healing before her eyes, the skin stitching itself together seamlessly.

Suddenly, her skin seemed to glow from within, taking on a luminous quality that had been absent before. Her hair, once a simple shade of brown, transformed into cascading waves of rich, golden blonde silk, catching the light with every movement. Her makeup subtly shifted, enhancing her features and emphasizing her eyes, making them appear more enchanting and mysterious.

A generous swell graced her chest, giving her tits that caused the zipper on her sports jacket to open. And as she flexed her hands, she couldn't help but notice her nails, now elongated and perfectly painted red, eerily matched Elissa’s.

Elissa's icy gaze locked onto Keira's changed form, a triumphant glint in her eyes. "Well, any objections now?" she inquired, her voice dripping with satisfaction. Keira's gaze slid down to her own transformed body, a sense of delight replacing her previous resistance. An intoxicating sensation of power flowed through her, igniting thoughts that were wicked and bold.

Her previous thoughts of justice and right and wrong seemed laughable and childish to her now. Why should she care about anyone but herself?

Keira's lips curled into a seductive smile as she met Elissa's gaze. "Yes plenty but they all have to do with what I’m wearing," she purred, her voice carrying a newfound confidence and allure. Elissa's own smile widened, clearly pleased with her handiwork, as she gestured for Keira to follow.

They stepped into Elissa's lavish office, adorned with sleek furniture and an air of authority. Elissa led her into a closet bigger than Keira's cubicle. As Keira surveyed the array of garments before her, she felt a wicked excitement bubbling within her. Each outfit seemed to carry a feeling of dominance and elegance that resonated with her transformed being.

Keira's fingers glided over the fabric of the outfit she had chosen, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. The tight, deep vee neck dress was made of a material that was dangerously close to being transparent but it clung to her curves, accentuating her newly heightened figure in way she couldn't deny or pass up.

As Keira stood before the mirror, the transformation was complete. She was no longer the conscientious young woman who had walked into the office that morning. With a newfound allure and wickedness, she was ready to step into a world where power, seduction, and ruthlessness reigned supreme.

“You look divine darling. Ready to do whatever it takes to keep these men with us?” Elissa said beaming proudly at her creation.

“Try and stop me.” Keira said wickedly smiling back at her new friend.

Keira and Elissa glided into the upscale club, their entrance sparking immediate intrigue. The male clients, a group of affluent and self-assured men, shifted their attention to the pair of alluring women that had just graced their midst. As they approached, Keira felt the weight of their gazes, a mixture of lust and curiosity. She loved it.

Their haughty vanity that normally repelled her seemed intoxicatingly attractive to her. Amid the crowd, one figure stood out—Jack, an enigmatic alpha amongst the group. His intense blue eyes locked onto Keira's, their connection igniting sparks that seemed to reflect the dim club lighting.

Amid the throbbing bass, Keira found herself engaged in a playful exchange with Jack, her words laced with a wicked charm. "So, Jack," she purred, "we all know you have money and looks, but how are you on the dance floor?" Jack's confident smile widened as he matched her banter. "Only one way to find out," he shot back, his voice dripping with innuendo.

Their dance grew more intimate, and as Jack's hands encircled her waist, Keira whispered, her tone dripping with wicked allure, "are you as good a lover as you are a dancer?" Jack's laughter resonated in her ear as he pulled her closer. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea," he murmured, the promise of a thrilling secret hanging between them.

Keira's fingers intertwined with Jack's, her grip firm as she pulled him toward the exit, her eyes locked onto his. The desire to continue their flirtatious encounter away from prying eyes was undeniable, and she could practically feel the magnetic pull between them growing stronger by the second.

As they moved through the club, Elissa's voice, a soft whisper, brushed against Keira's ear. "Good girl, seal the deal. I'll see you tomorrow," she murmured, her mischievous grin and wink sending a thrill down Keira's spine. The words echoed in Keira's mind, fueling the newfound confidence that was coursing through her.

In the privacy of a luxurious limousine, Keira's lips met Jack's in a passionate kiss. The electricity that had sizzled between them on the dance floor now ignited with a fervor that was impossible to ignore. Between heated kisses, Keira began undoing Jack’s belt and slipped her hand under to grab his formidable member. Jack moaned wantonly as Keira stroked it with precision. As she felt his cock throb as it came closer and closer to cumming she mounted him but hover her pussy just out of reach of his aching dick.

“Now Jack, if you want me to give you the best orgasm of your life then you’re going to have to tell me what I want to hear.” Keira said as she hissed darkly into his ear.

“I love you?” Jack said confused and horny in equal measure.

“Awh that’s cute honey but what I want to hear you say is that you’re keeping your business with our firm.” She continued to whisper as she tantalizingly dipped her perfect pussy off the top of his dick for a moment before retracting quickly.

“Oh fuck yes yes! As long as you’re with the firm then that’s where me and my company will stay.” He groaned.

“Good boy.” She said with a wicked smile as she lowered on to his cock where they both moaned in unison. Keira rode his dick up and down slowly at first before picking up the pace. She felt an incredible amount of control over her pussy muscles like never before. Every time she felt Jack close to cumming she was able to squeeze just enough to stop it. It felt good to be in control.

When she recognized the building of her street out the window she finally allowed him to orgasm. She felt her inside get lined with his juices which made a satisfying slurp as she got off him. Before Jack could parse what was happening Keira was already clip clopping towards her apartment.

“Wait! Keira, come back to my place.” He called out. His desire was palpable, but she didn’t even break her walk or turn around, "Another time, stud."

Up in her apartment, a sudden exhaustion washed over her like a tidal wave. The whirlwind of emotions and experiences had drained her, and as soon as she lay down, she succumbed to sleep's sweet embrace.

To be continued…

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #corrupted nails #evil bitch

[ms-demeanor]

Nahhhh you lost me at the copyright bullshit. A machine created to brute force copy and learn from any and all art around it that then imitates the work of others, an algorithm that puts no effort of its own into work, is not remotely comparable to a human person who learns from others' art and puts work and effort into it. One is an algorithm made by highly paid dudebros to copy things en masse, another is the earnest work of one person.

I mean. You're fundamentally misunderstanding both the technology and my argument.

You're actually so wrong you're not even wrong. Let's break it down:

A machine created to brute force copy and (what does "brute force copy" mean? "Brute Force" has a specific meaning in discussions of tech and this isn't it) learn from any and all art around it that then imitates the work of others (there are limited models that are trained to imitate the work of specific artists and there are people generating prompts requesting things in the style of certain artists, but large models are absolutely not trained to imitate anything other than whatever most closely matches the prompt; I do think that models trained on a single artist are unethical and are a much better case of violating the principles of fair use however they are significantly transformative so even there the argument kind of falls apart), an algorithm that puts no effort of its own into work (of course this is not a fair argument to be having really because you're an asker and you can't argue or respond but buddy you have to define your terms. 'Effort' is an extremely malleable concept and art that takes effort is not significantly more art-y or valid than art that takes little or no effort like this is an extremely common argument in discussions of modern art - is Andy Warhol art, is Duchamps' readymades series art, art is a LOT more about context than effort and I'm not sure you're aware of the processing power used to generate AI art but there is "effort" of a sort there but also you are anthropomorphizing the model, the algorithm isn't generating "its own work"), is not remotely comparable to a human person who learns from others' art and puts work and effort into it. One is an algorithm (i mean it's slightly more complicated than that, we're discussing a wide variety of models here) made by highly paid dudebros (this completely ignores the open source work, the volunteer work, the work of anybody who is not a 'dudebro,' which is the most typically tumblr way of dismissing anything in tech as the creation of someone white, male, and wealthy which SUCH a shitty set of assumptions) to copy things en masse, another is the earnest work of one person.

Okay so the reasonable things I've pulled out of that to discuss are:

"A machine created to learn from any and all art around it is not remotely comparable to a human person who learns from others' art and puts work and effort into it. One is an algorithm made to copy things en masse, another is the earnest work of one person."

And in terms of who fair use applies to, no. You're wrong. For the purposes of copyright and fair use, a machine learning model and a person are identical. You can't exclude one without excluding the other. There isn't even a good way to meaningfully separate them if you consider artists who use AI in their process while not actually generating AI art.

I feel like I don't really have to make much of an argument here because the EFF has done it for me. The sections of that commentary from question 8 own are detailed explanations of why generative models should reasonably be recognized as protected by fair use when trained on data that is publicly available.

But also: your definition of "copying" is bad. You're wrong about what a copy is, or you're wrong about what generative image models do. I suspect that the latter is much closer to the truth, so I'd recommend reading up on generative image models some more - that EFF commentary has plenty of articles that would probably be helpful for you.

[varii-corvid]

Bladequeer

a blankqueer term that seeks to be active in being anti abuse and aims to create an alternative justice model free from oppressive institutions. this stance holds several core values:

-actively seeking to build a more just world for paraphiles, people with medically unrecognized disorders, and transID people -recognizing that no paraphilia or transID is inherently dangerous to identify with, but certain forms of contact and actions are harmful. (thoughts and attractions do not equate to actions.) -actively advocating against harmful forms of contact and promoting healthy alternatives such as art and fiction. -promoting self control, self discipline, self governance, self defense, and bodily autonomy -holding your peers accountable and treating them as equals -liberating youth in a way that does not exploit or harm them. -liberating animals from unethical treatment in laboratories and farms. -giving abusers and victims access to restorative and transformative forms of justice and creating safe spaces to heal. -living by the anarchist motto "from each according to their ability, to each according to their need" -creating mutual aid networks and alternative infrastructure -advocating for the abolition of psychiatric institutionalization -advocating for the abolition of prisons and police -promoting community driven justice and therapy -advocating for an age of sexual and romantic consent in an anarchist society (around 16-19, preferably 18) this term is anti exclusionist and fights for all people's human rights.

#blankqueer #blankqueer coining #radqueer coining #rq 🌈🍓 #anarchism #transid #bladequeer #🍡personal hoard #☄️🏳️🪙coining.

[jeffrey-anderson]

Injustice in the Justice System: The Ethical Plight of Arkham Asylum

It is a common saying within Gotham City that you can set your watch off of Arkham Asylum’s regular breakouts.

Founded by Dr. Amadeus Arkham well over a century ago, this government-funded penitentiary has morphed from a well-meaning mental hospital to quite literally a house of horrors. Sanctioned as an asylum for the criminally insane in 19XX, Arkham Asylum has been affected by corruption and fraud every year since its founding - a reality only exacerbated by the breakout rates that have spiked by almost 46% annually since the Joker’s posting as a publicly known terrorist.

Anybody who lives in Gotham has been affected by the persistent breakouts plaguing the asylum. It’s been the Riddler’s bombings of the subway system. It was the threat of Gotham’s water supply being polluted by Joker toxin (only narrowly avoided by vigilante Batman’s interceptions). It was literally any Halloween these past few years. Take your pick.

Arkham Asylum is wholly an ethical nightmare. Its moral values and code of conduct have completely warped since its founding, and a lack of accountability has transformed it into an unethical hovel for anybody incarcerated there. Corruption runs rampant in the system. Any bribe of any size can be weaponised, and prisoners can do anything within and including escaping.

The poor legislation and the lack of accountability likens Arkham to the El Salvador gang jails. Both of them have death rates in the hundreds, and both do not receive programs preparing inmates for reinsertion into society. The two of them have inmates who are rarely - if ever - allowed outside.

These so called ‘reformatory’ institutions are unethical, unlivable hovels for anybody incarcerated. The abusive living situations make it a wonder any of Arkham’s convicts ever even consider choosing to stay within the prison walls.

Speaking of Arkham being an unliveable hovel - asylums throughout America have progressively gone out of style within the last forty years. However, Gotham is a city that leans more towards traditionalism - a view paired with and reflected throughout the city’s beautiful architecture and the scarcity of new bills, legislations and laws that are passed as a result of the city stagnating and being unwilling to create change.

This languishing, this lack of desire for movement and progress, is part of the systematic problems that threaten to topple Arkham. It is part of why it is inhumane.

Asylums have been going out of style for a reason - both sides of the system suffer. There is a relatively low rate of recovery from patients in asylums who are mentally unwell - even lower in Gotham City. Caregivers are pessimistic about their future outlooks because of the low success rates, feeding back into the cycle with no positive yield. This vicious pattern makes it nigh-impossible for anyone within the system to get any sort of fulfilment from it.

Although Arkham is officially a psychiatric ward, it houses patients who are arguably sane and yet are sentenced to life with the mentally unwell. Take Adam Bomb for example (article linked). Convicted of terrorism after trying to blow up the city, Bomb worked with criminally insane terrorist Firefly and thus was convicted of insanity beside him despite all claims that he was not mentally unstable.

It could be argued that these inhabitants aren’t perfectly sane, but an overwhelming amount of evidence from court records show otherwise. XX% of convicts in Arkham were allegedly intended to go to Blackgate Penitentiary, but couldn’t as a result of the overcrowding in the system. This whopping XX% percent of inmates, forced to live in padded cells and treated as less than human because of an insanity that they don’t have, live in an oppressive scheme which in turn makes it more difficult for actually unwell prisoners to receive the help they require. Furthermore, inmates who are criminally insane likewise suffer - the heightened risk of assault, dangerous gangs, and trauma in result of the organised crime fester a wholly unhealthy environment for the patients in the system who are meant to be there.

This misconduct is really highlighted in 20XX’s horrifically dubbed “Haunted House” breakout, where seven inmates (both sane and insane) attempted an escape. One of their psychiatric patients (a Ms. A. Smith) was killed in the panic after experiencing a psychotic break and subsequently attacking one of her fellow escapees after watching one of the sane male inmates assault a staff member.

The tragic events that transpired in the “Haunted House” jailbreak underline the desperation of reform required within our justice system. It is crucial that we address these issues within and around Arkham, as its current state has crossed lines and boundaries that even the worst cities throughout the globe have not passed.

Now, after considering these insurmountable problems, you may be wondering.

How is Arkham Asylum still standing?

Surely, some uncorrupted Gotham official is good, right? They would have seen the corruption, the abuse, the inhumane condition. Surely, somebody would have pushed for a change.

Well - you aren’t wrong. Arkham has been the focus of almost 15% of bills petitioned within Gotham City for eight years.

But there are good reasons why it is still functioning. Why nine out of ten of these petitions are rejected, despite the obvious poison to our society that it provides.

Arkham Asylum was made by a key founder of some of Gotham’s most foundational rules and regulations, Stuart Gordon. Nevada and Maine are the only other states to decriminalise sex work - but Gotham City, too, has special permissions under the state of New Jersey to abolish the law as a result of his work. Furthermore, Gordon pushed for Gotham to be one of the first cities (although highly debated and largely criticised at the time) to allow equal purchase and selling of property by minority groups within Gotham. Gordon’s lasting contributions to New Jersey’s sociopolitical landscape are likely partially why Arkham‘s presence continues to endure despite its increasingly intrusive existence in our modern society.

Arkham Asylum stands as a symbol of justice. Despite the rampant violence and a severe lack of accountability within its system, it is the most famous (and infamous) jail this side of America. When you look any closer at the system, its flaws and corruption reveal themselves to you in a disturbingly clear fashion. Yet when we think of the law, when we consider the justice system, Arkham is always the first to mind, given its wide discussion by people around the globe.

Arkham Asylum was a lot of money. A lot of money. For the first fifteen years of its construction, Gotham government’s annual transparency records reveal Arkham Asylum taking almost 40% of the budget allocated to police and law enforcement in its construction time. This rampant fund theft and poor budget of the government, exacerbated by the relative spike in crime rate during the years of its building, proves just how long they intend Arkham to stand. Why would the government put so much money into something that they didn’t intend to run in the long term?

These factors have made our authorities comfortable. Unaccountable. Stagnant. The level of ease that Gotham’s government holds about jailbreaks trickles down to regular citizens. They face no consequences from us as a result of our being excessively comfortable with the crime they permit.

If nothing is to change, we have a clear view on the future based on the long history we have with Arkham in the past. Gotham City’s complacency allows corruption to fester, and it leaves us citizens complicit in the tragedy of crime and disaster.

It is not too late to change course.

If we don’t stop this fraudulence now, it will be too late to change course.

The first step to change within others - our society - is change within ourselves and our standards. We must remind ourselves that this crime is not normal. Remind ourselves that we should not be comfortable. The disasters, the rampant crime and the rotating door of terrorists coming and going from Arkham is not something to be nonchalant about. We have to teach our children that the standards that Gotham’s bureaucracy sets for us isn’t acceptable, and that they should not be growing up with fear in their hearts and emergency exits in their minds.

Furthermore, it is imperative that we insist on more from our higher-ups. Allowing them to continue shrugging their shoulders and telling us that the establishment cannot be changed is only going to worsen the state of our city and justice system to the point of no return. We need to pressure new laws from them, so we can uproot the corruption that they have allowed to fester in our city for decades. We must demand new regimens for jails in order for us to be able to transfer inmates out of overstuffed systems and give resources to those who need it most.

Most importantly, we have to demand better, moral legislation. Regulations that seperate the harmless from the terrorists, and incite prisoners to remain in a prison that will not be cruel to them at every waking moment.

One voice can only do so much.

Many voices, speaking as a part of an undivided unit desiring wholly for change - that will get the government’s attention. That will make them feel the same discomfort we have been experiencing our whole lives. That will lead them to forging new change within this stagnant society, one which will better both the lives of AA’’s inhabitants and those of Gotham City.

Sign this petition, and stand with me. Stand with all of us who are appealing for a difference within a society. Help us create change that will last for generations.

-Jeffrey Anderson

#gotham #dc #batman #only in gotham #bruce wayne #joker #the joker #dc joker #dc comics #metropolis #jla #dc comcis #dcu #robin #dc robin #dc universe #jim gordon #ed ny #ed nygma #the riddler #fanf #fanfic #dc fanart #gotham city #red hoo #red hood #dc red hood #dc red robin #jason todd #dick grayson

[idololivine]

"Eiden and Quincy were far from the only trans people in the clan, but they were the only ones who had felt the need to get this specific surgery". i think the entire clan can be trans. As a treat. yakumo was a snake, the way he portrays himself can be seen as a choice. edmond's family is extremely wealthy so he got bougie gender affirming care from an early age. olivine's decent with magic which he could use to change his appearance + there's potential for some neat religious imagery of being reborn a new and/or further religious guilt. altho from what we know abt the church of klein tbh i want to believe there's no religiously motivated transphobia in klein

ANYWAY

kuya has canonically been shown to use illusions to portray himself as other people and even as a woman. garu and karu are like yakumo too, they were a wolf but transformed. blade doesnt know what gender is, but he can swap out his dick for a pussy module if he wants to. dante got free top surgery and hrt from the fire spirits. rei makes unethical diy hrt in his meth lab. They can all be transgender.... (smokes a fat blunt)

THEY CAN ALL BE TRANSGENDER... YOU UNDERSTAND ME...

I generally stick to the idea that there's no transphobia in Klein, religiously motivated or otherwise, same way there's no homophobia. I think it's in line with the setting and it's also just plain wish fulfillment tbh. my personal Oli hc is that he's non op and on fantasy testosterone, big naturals and cute little tdick. I also really like him in relation to the following quote

“As my friend Julian puts it, only half winkingly: “God blessed me by making me transsexual for the same reason God made wheat but not bread and fruit but not wine, so that humanity might share in the act of creation.” ― Daniel Mallory Ortberg, Something That May Shock and Discredit You

which I think is less official doctrine and more how he personally approaches gender and faith. if I were angling for angst maybe the church isn't overtly transphobic but there's a little bit of "be grateful for the body god gave you"... but I also like plain uncomplicated trans joy. but headcanon doesn't have to be consistent so I can have both depending on the mood.

I'm a believer of Kuya's ability to have whatever bits he pleases at whatever time. pussy, cock, whatever, magic lets him do anything. "if magic is so good why does surgery exist" you may ask. because gender affirming surgery is cool and sexy. and most people aren't ancient yokai with access to powerful magicks. and Quincy refused to be in Kuya's debt. anyway, Kuya does whatever he wants because gender is meaningless to a magic fox.

Blade hc is that he was born a ken doll, had a dick made for him in Saia because the sexbot investor guy demanded it (see: Rusted Nation), and asked Rei to make him a pussy module because the vagina-havers of the clan looked like they were having so much fun and he got curious. so he swaps them in and out as he pleases, depending on what the mood is that day.

Rei making his own diy hrt is extremely true and real. he also has the most insane homemade straps.

#asks #my posts #Anonymous #nu carnival

[sexhaver]

I’m a bit confused. Your response to that person makes it seem like you’re okay with the AI using stolen art as a dataset to train it. “Stolen” in that the artists did not give permission for their work to be used to train the AI. AI art isn’t inherently bad, but most people agree that it’s unethical to use someone else’s art without permission, credit, or compensation to make a profit.

im going to ignore the majority of your ask because it's stupid and wrong and positively RIFE with loaded questions. instead i an going to zero in on your use of the word "stolen" here. let's look at this legally and ethically.

legally (IN THE US), there is no way to enact what you are asking for without expanding IP law to make "transformative works" illegal. this would make stuff like photo collages and fanfiction illegal. Disney wants this. you do not want this.

ethically, in my opinion, there is no meaningful difference between an AI art program including your publicly posted art in a training dataset with tens of thousands of other pictures and a human artist seeing your art and being inspired by it. unless the AI model is trained specifically on your art by someone else with the express purpose of undercutting you, the idea that you can see "your" influence in a specific piece of AI art is peak egotism on par with accusing human artists drawing in the same style as you of theft/plagiarism.

it's fucking 2023, why are people still getting the definition "steal" wrong? i thought we settled this over a decade ago when we decided media piracy is cool and good

[robfinancialtip]

🗣️Manda Mae Emery speaks up against unacceptable behavior, especially in male-dominated workplaces, serving as an inspiration during Women's Month. She underscores the significance of women speaking up, even when terrified, providing motivational encouragement for others to do the same. Manda feels that speaking up is critical to exposing unethical behavior and raising awareness about its consequences, offering an inspirational example of courage and conviction. She thinks that by focusing light on such instances, change is possible since it forces recognition and accountability for such behavior. This demonstrates confidence in the potential of discussion and transparency in addressing systemic concerns.

🌟Manda also shows hope and trust in humanity's ability to make beneficial changes, serving as a motivational beacon amidst challenging times. Despite realizing the world's current disarray, she remains optimistic that society will improve, offering motivational support for those striving for improvement. This implies a trust in people's intrinsic goodness and ability to learn and develop from previous mistakes, inspiring others to believe in the power of positive transformation. Manda's proactive approach to growth and improvement is accepting problems while being hopeful, serving as a source of inspiration for resilience and optimism.

Overall, Manda's comments express a sense of empowerment and hope about the possibilities for constructive change, making her voice particularly impactful during Women's Month. She supports speaking out against wrongdoing and believes that cultural change may be positive, serving as an inspirational advocate for progress and equality. This mindset prioritizes accountability, awareness, and communication to create a more equal and respectful society, motivating others to join in the movement for change.

[interstellar-elf]

Ideas about Earthspark's next human villain, if they go for another human villain

A Elon Musk expie who wants the t-cog to make their own Transformers, and is currently running some unethical experiments on some Transformers he's caught

Shawn Berger's spiritual successor who wants the Transformers off of Earth, possibly to appease some Quintessons in human disguise, who want the Transformers and the Emberstone

An anti-Transformer group or person who's the head of the Anti-Transformers group who wants to evict the Transformers from Earth, which includes the Terrans. Might have an overlap with the Shawn Berger type

A combination of all three, with an emphasis on the Quintessons making a deal with them to give them the Transformers in exchange for advanced technology

#transformers #earthspark #transformers earthspark #tf es #tf earthspark #maccadams #villains

[dramionediscussion]

Hi! So I haven't been following Dramione / Harry Potter fanfics community in a while and imagine my surprise that lots of post has been about the monetization of fanfics.

Initially I thought it was more of seller on Etsy selling their service of printing and book binding by request, so they are selling the printing and book binding service, not the actual fanfic works themselves, but then the more I read the more I realized it's actual sellers selling the fanfics in published hardcopy book form for profit without permission, which is just shocking, appalling, unethical, and really sad that this has caused numerous authors to pull the plug , so to speak , and pull out their fics as a way to protect their works. Not to mentioned with this gaining traction it increases the chances of original authors possible banning fanfictions all together since people are profiting from their work essentially.

Anyway, recently I have mostly been involved in smaller fandoms , or recently established fandoms, which much smaller community or smaller numbers of published fics, so I haven't heard much of this fanfic seller issues happening there.

Has this issue impacted other fandoms especially the big ones like Star Wars, Marvels, Supernaturals, etc? Also, aside from reporting the sellers, is there anything more proactive that we can do as readers, writers and community members? Has there been any actions towards raising this to The Organization of Transformative Works (the one heading AO3) for more concrete protection measures for everyone involves?

Thank you!

Hi!

Initially, authors said that the bookbinding profits were just from materials to make the physical book and the person's labour, but now that is not the case. Also, the binders would get permission or pay an artist to use their art in the books.

I don't know if this is affecting other fandoms, I haven't seen any Dramione author or fan say that they are seeing this elsewhere. If anyone knows, please leave a comment!

But people are saying in the Dramione tag that they have reached out to AO3, but haven't heard anything. I don't know how AO3 will stop this or help to be honest. They are just a host for the works. They give people the option to download fics. Some people on the tag were saying they were gonna try to contact AO3 and see if they can make downloading optional, so authors can choose if they want their fic to be downloadable.

But AO3 is a huge company, I don't see them caring unless this whole bookbinding thing starts getting the attention of JKR (who seems to be preoccupied with advocating for the removal of basic human rights).

BUT ALSO!!!

This is causing a lot of fans to start downloading their favourite fics before authors remove them. I am already seeing people sharing PDFs over on the Dramione subreddit. Many authors don't like this either. Download it for yourself, but do not share. So now they are gonna have to deal with this too.

-Lisa

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Reflecting on my work in 2022

As this official Hell Of A Year™ draws to a close, I guess it is appropriate to both reflect on what I've been doing this year, as well as do a bit of plugging for work which I am proud of.

So here's a list of some of the videos I made this year, along with some thoughts on their creation and how I feel about them, some self-criticism, some behind-the-scenes, and a little self-congratulation where it is appropriate.

I struggle somewhat with memory and a clear sense of time - to me, time is more of a continuous stream than a series of delineated moments. This is often frustrating - I get lost in it, and when I look back on a list of my work and activities, it is less an experience of "oh yeah, ha ha, that happened" and more of a "wait what do you mean that happened then? And before that other thing? But after that one? What the hell?"

Worst case scenario, it can be kinda distressing, honestly. It feels out of control, anxiety inducing, like I don't have a handle on my life.

... which is an absolutely fantastic tone to strike for a New Year's list of my favourite videos. 2023, woo!

The Boss Designs of Bloodborne Finale (February)

It took me nearly three months after the penultimate episode of the series to finally put this video out. My The Boss Designs Of series is some of the best work I've ever created, at least I think so. It's certainly some of the most creatively fulfilling work I do, and some of the most challenging too.

I try to walk a line between providing a fresh perspective on the games I've played for the series, but not getting contrarian or off-the-wall just for the sake of it. With Bloodborne, I do think I managed some really good critical contributions to the readings of the game, like my reading of the Blood-starved Beast as a self-sacrificing martyr for the beast community of Old Yharnam, which was apparently quite novel, or my crackpot Parasite Theory of Bloodborne's madness.

And I do think I've gotten better and better at editing gameplay footage too, I think I've managed to learn a good balance between joke-edits and continuity and story editing. I always kinda fret on the one hand that the gameplay footage and my live commentary is too boring to stand on its own, and on the other hand that editing in too many jokes and gags would just be obnoxious and tedious to sit through.

The thing Bloodborne nails more than any other horror game I've seen is the sensation of the nightmare. And not just in its visuals or its monster designs or the surface storytelling, but in the push and pull between extremely specific imagery and story beats and complete ambiguity the moment you scratch at the surface. Bloodborne is on the one hand a fairly obvious story about the abuses of organized religion and unethical science, but then underneath that there's also this deep obsession with the violence done to women's bodies specifically, and how that violence spills out and caustically eats into the humanity of everyone who is complicit in it.

And then underneath that there's an exploration of birth trauma, where the Great Ones are parental figures as incomprehensible to the player as parents are to a newborn child, pushing you here and pulling you there and inflicting incomprehensible violations of your bodily autonomy out of apparent sympathy.

And underneath all of that... it's also about how cool it would be to transform into a werewolf, actually. The themes of self-creation and transformation and claiming monsterhood as self-empowerment are incredibly queer and especially apt for trans readings.

It all flows together in this soup of imagery and meaning that I cannot crystalize into a unifying Theory of Bloodborne, no definitive reading, no comprehensive hot take. Which is frustrating when you're trying to create a video essay, but infinitely compelling when trying to think about it.

I don't know that I managed to capture all of that in the The Boss Designs of Bloodborne finale, but I do know that I tried to, and I'm proud of that.

Melina, the Maiden - Boss Designs of Elden Ring #1 (March)

Staying with The Boss Designs of, here's a video about which my feelings have become decidedly mixed. Not because of anything that is in the episode, mind you, but out of a certain disempowered bitterness I've developed about Elden Ring over the course of the year.

I cannot overstate how excited I was for Elden Ring, and how desperately I enjoyed finally getting to play it back in March. It's a brilliant game, an incredibly immersive world, and one which I badly want to return to.

... and then I didn't get to play the game for nine months. It was partly my own mistake - I tried recording an absolute ton of footage for episodes early, playing as much of the game as I could while it was still fresh, hoping to put out a lot of episodes of the series early while the game was fresh and Relevant In The Algorithm™, and also just out of sheer excitement. In so doing, though, I ended up shooting myself in the foot, because as I began to edit episodes together I also found myself feeling more and more distant from the experience of playing.

The pile of footage in front of me, begging to be converted into episodes, became a roadblock of work looming over me, a source of guilt and stress and frustration, that put extra stress on my mind every time I tried to make any other video and which stood between me and getting to play more of the game I have anticipated more than any other for years.

In 2023, I will get back to Elden Ring, I swear to god I will, but in the meantime I am quite happy with how the three episodes I've made of this series so far have turned out.

Also, the new intro song I commissioned from @trewatsonmusic absolutely slaps.

What's the deal with Zeri and Neon (June)

My ambition for the What's the Deal videos has always been to expand them beyond League of Legends (and I have done videos on characters from other things), but being a YouTuber is also my job, and League of Legends is the moneymaking subject on my channel, at least for now.

Not that I resent that. For all that League deserves the criticism it gets, I still insist that it has one of the greatest casts of characters in modern gaming, underserved and ignored though most of them are by Riot Games. There's so much to talk about once you get even a little bit under the surface, and I do feel like I've been doing a better and better job at doing that in the What's the Deal videos over 2022. Zeri, for example, is a fantastic addition to the class warfare dynamics of Piltover and Zaun, especially in her conflict with Renata Glasc and the themes that could be explored through that conflict. And it's not lost of me the extent to which she was a direct response to the xenophobic attacks on Asian-Americans that have surged out of American politics in recent years, either. There is value to proclaiming that someone like Zeri belongs in the worlds of big pop culture institutions like League of Legends, even if (as always) it is the workers at Riot Games making that proclamation, and Riot Games Inc. allowing it because it serves their commercial goals.

I brought in Nickyboi for an assist on this one as well, which is something I want to do more. I want to do more collaboration. First of all because it's nice to offload work to someone else, but also because this job is fundamentally kind of lonely. I'm just a guy in his office making videos 99% of the time, and collaborating with a fellow creator feels like being part of a creative community in a way that solo work and shitposting at each other on Twitter simply doesn't.

And I am proud of the little fanfiction snippets I've started writing in the The Future segments. One of the points of the What's the Deal videos is to communicate to an audience why I'm excited about a character, why I feel like they're worth giving a shit about, and I think those fanfiction segments have done a better job at getting that across than almost all of my character design and animation chatter. Plus, it's nice to flex a bit of creative muscle in that way now and then.

Speaking of which, I still need to write that happier ending for Kai'sa and Taliyah, don't I? I have A Plan™ for that, it's just about finding the time to make it real...

The 15 Most Beautiful Splash Arts in League of Legends (September)

This one is easily the biggest surprise of the year for me. In the latter half of 2022, I took quite a lot of sponsorships - first of all because they were offered (good lord there was a rush of them in August!), but also because I really wanted to save up and pay down debts.

One of the consequences of that was the extreme delay of Elden Ring, but another was that all of a sudden I had to get content out on a very set schedule. Most of my work is done on the steam of Whatever Catches My Creative Attention At The Time, but with a deadline hanging over my head, suddenly I had to find video ideas whether they presented themselves naturally or not.

I feared that a list-video would be a turn-off for my audience, I feared that it would be seen as shallow and tacky, like a 2010s Buzzfeed listicle. I feared that people just wouldn't be interested in the kind of art analysis I like to do, or would find it pretentious to seek meaning in what is - let's be real - commercial artwork meant to promote game cosmetics.

The benefit of a sponsorship is that the video has already made a profit, whether it does well or not, and I thought that in making this video, I was being self-indulgent and "ignoring" the desires of my audience.

Instead, it's one of the best performing videos ever on my channel, and people have cited it as a favorite among my videos quite a number of times.

Which was really... encouraging, honestly. I didn't expect it, but this video really did give me a confidence boost that the things I care about and find interesting do have an audience, even extra-nerdy rambling about League of Legends cosmetics.

Building a Better Soraka (September)

Building a Better is a series title I sometimes regret a little bit, because no matter how much I try to explain in the videos themselves that there is no such thing as a perfect character design and that my revisions and ideas are not meant to be definitive in any way, I always get comments from people accusing me of declaring myself The God of Character Design and sitting in holy judgment over the work I'm critiquing.

To an extent, I guess that's unavoidable on the internet, but... maybe the series title was a bad gamble on that front.

I do stand by, though, that my designs have a reasonable argument that they are improvements over the originals. Arguments that can be interrogated and criticized, but valid, reasonaed arguments, not mere polemics.

Building a Better Soraka was an experiment in creating the series, as instead of working with a single artist to iterate on design improvements, I ended up commissioning more than a half dozen people for artwork and using different renditions to make my argument. It did hurt the coherency of the video a little, I feel, but it did open me up to a much more flexible way to produce videos like it in the future, which I'm happy with.

Plus, I really do like what I came up with here, and I adore the ways that @sabtherobot, @sinizade and @lekyrin executed my ideas and brought their own visions of the character. Soraka is a character who deserves a lot better than the basic design she's stuck with, and whose story can do so much more visually than Riot is willing to allow it to do.

"Not Without You" - the story of Nasus and Renekton (November)

Of all the writing I did this year, this is by far what I am most proud of.

The video itself did not perform very well, nor did I expect it to, but the reactions I saw from the audience on this piece... yeah. That filled a very hungry part of my heart, I'm not gonna lie.

Writing a novel is a life ambition for me, as it is for many people. Actually writing it is a lot more elusive, though, in part because I struggle to feel confidence that my writing would ever hold up to the scrutiny of an audience. I struggle to feel that I would ever be able to connect emotionally with people, that I would be able to make what I feel sensible through writing.

This story proved that I can. Not to a big audience, perhaps, and I certainly don't have any delusions of genius or grandeur. I do not ever expect to be a famous or fêted writer, nor an important one. But... I do feel like with this story, I proved that I can at least be a competent one, which is frankly all I want.

And Nasus and Renekton were grateful subjects, too. Their story is naturally deeply emotional, albeit strangled by Riot's chronic indifference towards their most compelling narratives, and a lot of what I ended up exploring in there did come from a very genuine place in myself. It was nice to touch that part of my soul, and make something out of it, even if it's only silly fanfiction for a silly video game.

I am cautiously optimistic about 2023

Looking back over the videos I made this year, while I have a lot of work that I am proud of, I also see a lot of videos that I think I made less out of a desire to make them and more out of a fear of not making them. Videos that I made because I felt like the audience expected it, because the algorithm demanded it, because rent is always coming due and I am petrified of ever being broke again.

This is normal and natural, it is to some extent just the nature of the creative process under a capitalist market system where your work must always have some sort of price tag. But... I don't want to keep doing it. If I have an ambition for 2023, it is to make more of the videos I want to make, more videos that I only I can make. To give myself a little bit of a break and ease up on the self-recrimination and stress.

I have so many projects I want to get to, and being in my 30s I am becoming more and more conscious that while I (hopefully) have something like twice my current lifetime left to create the things I want, time is a finite resource, and spending it trying to please a website algorithm probably won't do me that much good in the end.

Anyway, some other things I did which I am quite proud of:

Played through God of War: Ragnarök while telling stories about the mythology of my childhood.

Ran around the world of Eorzea, accompanied by some of the funniest, silliest and most generous FFXIV players a man could dream of.

Finished a Pokémon HeartGold Nuzlocke with possibly the most nerve-wracking finish I have ever had to a Pokémon game

Reviewed every single Gen 1 Pokémon

Finished Great Ace Attorney Chronicles 1, probably the let's play with the most voice acting I have ever done. Some of it is even good!

If you've read this far, thank you so much for your time, your attention, your interest and your indulgence. Your 2023 be a good year, and may the tides of history wash gently over us all.

#tbskyen #bloodborne #from software #fromsoft #elden ring #Youtube #league of legends #bel'veth #belveth #zeri league of legends #zeri lol #neon valorant #nasus #renekton #shurima #soraka

[dumpingground6]

I feel like info dumping about how Hyde is written lately

Because there's something very interesting about it because the first thing you see on his design is the skull and how you can't see his face and when you can't put a human face to a design it tends to make you think of this character as more cold maybe more distant from others

And with the information that we're given about him from an omnipresent view it fuels that

But then when we see him in dreams of redemption he speaks more politely There's something more warm about Hyde here

He's able to hold regular conversations although he is very blunt about stating the consequences and stuff and that is really cool

In embla's bounties he is concerned for her at every turn. Hyde eve tries to get embla to be more sociable/ less intimidating to her subordinates he gives her real advice that would work in theory if it wasn't for how she interpreted it

Now this is obviously because they are on the same side and stuff so it's understandable why he would be this warm towards an old friend and a coworker but also

This is going to be interesting to see you because we have seen how he interacts with close friends and now with the immortal fire event how he interacts with those who are neutral with him.

Now I want to see how he interacts with those who are against him I want to see how he changes and shifts

Not to say that he isn't cold or that he isn't unethical he's obviously an antagonist here and stuff but like with how he lays things out for people it's very honest and truthful

This is further seen in immortal fire

He lays out the fact that Nicholas's plan is Impossible

And while he does say there's an alternative he makes sure to explicitly say the consequences while also giving mateo and Nicholas a chance to back out at every moment

So on the surface you may think that it sucks that the Hades esper is seemingly in the bad organization but then when you peel back his layers there starts to be a sort of understanding this does not justify his means at all

But you understand the reasons why he has gone this far

Take his relationship with Hannah, now we don't know whether they are actually family or not and at this point we are probably not going to get an answer but it is clear that they were definitely very close friends at the least because of how much her death affected him. And it's clear he wanted to genuinely improve the world by partitioning his grief into something more productive.

That being the artificial esper project and I truly believe that this was a passion project for him because of how much work he put into it and how much he wanted this to succeed to the point where even after it was shut down he started an entirely new organization just so it can continue.

And we know why they want to research the miracles they need to know how to deal with them and clearly the events are showing that literally everyone doesn't know anything about the miracles at all even after 15 years of research

And other events also go to show the catastrophic consequences of letting the miracles go on

And they have results the shadow decree have undoubtedly made huge leaps in technology with stuff like the successful artificial transformation of kara

It really seems like the shadow decrees turn into crime likely isn't caused by him or at least caused by him completely.

But it's also clear that he's apathetic to any of the criminal activities that they go on because he rationalizes that the ends justify the means

And it's at the cost of every last ounce of their ethics

And that's why he's just so well written because like at first you think herder Hades esper bad but like when you peel it back it becomes way more complicated than that and that's so nice to see

#dislyte #dislyte hyde #infodump #anaylsis #🧂