#and blatant plagiarism :)))

[loveyazy]

just saw someone say that 3 brothers and 3 sisters can still happen but not with Elain, with fucking Gwyn

You guys wanna self-insert so fucking bad. You want to take all the things Elriel has already done and said and use them for your ship, when in reality, all you want is Elriel, but with a character that is your headcanon version of said character.

The coping. The delusions. It's actually kind of sad at this point.

Also, if you think it's "found sisters" and "found brothers" then Nesta wouldn't even be included, it'd be Feyre, Amren, and Mor. Lmao.

Your own theory has holes.

Everyone thinks Gwyn is this super warrior, but between her and Elain, only Elain killed someone, fought off a beast with her own bare foot.

The only instance of Gwyn being any sort of warrior in a fight, was maybe when she slashed someone's shins. That's it. I went through all of ACOSF and that's the only time she lands any sort of blow during the Rite.

So why is it that Elain who has actually done more, actually killed someone, (sorry, no. Nesta does not credit for Hybern when he would've bled out and died either way.), is probably actually training to be a spy (hello her two closest friends, the wraiths???????) get tagged as the weak one, or someone who can't fight, not a warrior, etc., but Gwyn who almost did nothing the entire rite is somehow the baddest bitch to ever live?

What?

I really try to stay away from all the anti stuff but it gets more and more delusional and I am just appalled.

[daily-basil]

He JUST woke up

[amybeegood]

On Plagiarism

Just to make it abundantly clear: If you steal someone's fic and are happy to take the love and praise you didn't earn, then you certainly should have to bear the correspondingly inevitable reaction of the writer whose work you stole and their angry fans.

There is no "both sides" to an argument like this. If you steal, you should not expect to be coddled once you realize how badly you effed up, especially when the theft is brazen, unapologetic, and continuous.

Thieves and plagiarizers are NOT the victims, ever, period. If you pooh-pooh a writer's thievery and try to claim it was innocent or that the resultant reaction of the writer and/or fans is unfair, then you, too, should do some serious soul-searching.

So, if you don't want a pissed-off mob pointing out how you should delete the stolen work, then maybe consider not stealing in the first place. Because you will be caught out, and then any praise you received (which should already feel pretty hollow if you have any kind of conscience whatsoever) will turn to dust in your hands.

No, I'm not condoning violence or doxxing of any kind; yes, I am expecting accountability, which may, to the entitled fic-stealer, FEEL unfair and extremely uncomfy, too, I hope. And if the person who steals can't face up to what they've done, then I fully expect the staff at ao3 to deal with the TOS violation appropriately.

(And YES, I will blast you for your crappy grammar, too! That's a free feature of the Accountability Package from Yours Truly.)

[tinyluvs]

if i had a nickel for every time someone blatantly copied me, i’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice, right? right?…….

[aroacettorney]

in defense of ludger cherish being referenced in most AUPs narratives instead of heathcliff van bretus despite the revelation of his true name since long time ago:

heathcliff van bretus: although this is his (second) birth name, he spent most of his time under this identity getting thrown around by everyone around him. from lumensis to the bretus royalty, and sometimes even grander, his choice was completely stripped from him since his birth: being reborn as the holy grail, being branded and going through many assassination attempts for being an illegitimate child, and getting picked up and raised to live a harsh wanderer life by the legendary vampire. he never had his true freedom until he finally ran away in his 20s and threw away his birth name like it was his dead name.

his cosplay identities: although these identities were chosen by him with obvious deliberation, they were him but also not him. if anything, he certainly got a tad too carried away with the projecting and roleplaying, which makes one wonder if this is how he copes with his identity crisis while trying to find his true self in the strange new world — by taking comfort in cloaking himself in familiarities from the old world. in other words, one could say this was his questioning phase.

ludger cherish: unlike his previously fake identities, this one was unexpectedly forced upon him. despite so, this turns out to be the one that gives him the most freedom of self thanks to "ludgers" suspiciously convenient, fake background. if HvB is the godly vessel that he unintendedly fills up with his own soul and shapes for his own needs, ludger cherish is the human vessel that he subconsciously fills up with his own humanity. ludger cherish is a blank canvas — as this identity is not an earthly literature character, he has no references for how he must act or what he must do. what else can tell better about a person if not the way they fuck around and find out? coincidentally, ludger cherish just happens to be the peak of HvBs fucking around and finding out. despite his desperate need to hide himself, his talents, his kindness, his philosophy, his rationale, his emotions, his desires, his personal choices and acts — his everything cannot help but gradually leak out and become the essence that makes ludger cherish who he is to this day, to the point that it wouldnt be incorrect to say ludger cherishs personality is his true personality and ludger cherishs self is his true self. ironically, his most authentic self after his first life might have been the supposedly fake ludger cherish after all.

[wanderingandfound]

While I wasn't familiar with any of the players in the four hour plagiarism YouTube video (besides the Sherlock Is Garbage and Here's Why guy), coincidentally a blog post came out today about a book full of plagiarism within the TTRPG scene. And in this case I was familar with the plagiarizing author. I followed her on Twitter for a while (her personal account seems to be gone now) and while she could be... acerbic is one way to put it, shit-stirring is another, she had some insightful posts. Somebody doesn't need to be nice to have a point. This is disappointing.

[dontmindmejustafangirl]

My stand on the topic of consuming fiction has always been "Anyone can enjoy anything they want as long as it brings them entertainment" and there is no exception even if in some circumstances I want to fucking scream why the fuck does [the thing I hate] still have fans

[beholding-moth]

so that second half of the hbomberguy video huh...

[j-crow]

[wordsofnoconsequence]

The Sweetness of Growing Older

Tell me the light is fading, And the wells won't run dry. Tell me stillness will still enfold me, Its arms unyielding, faithful As the turning of the sea, And the sea in turn, boundless, unending. Tell me that the sky is full to the brim With dust that looks like stars if you squint. Tell me a story that pins me, holding me To what I want to be faithful to at all costs. Tell me the house is still standing, That there is still a place for me. Tell me I'll live past the wishing to be wanted, Past the fear of no longer being haunted, I'll wake up to the days growing longer. Tell me of the beckoning pull of new months, The heedless, beaming motion of my growing up. That wherever I go in this world, I am loved. All there is left to do is everything else. There is no chain, the door is unlocked, My life is mine for the best part of all- Finding it out.

[luckylunatix]

A decade+ ago: "If it has even the slightest similarity to Pokémon I don't want it!"

Now: "Yeah I know this game straight up plagiarized designs and stole assets from Pokémon, but Pokémon ain't what it used to be and this game has guns in it, so who cares? Fuck the actual creativity that went into those Pokémon designs, the artists that made them are clearly just as bad as the company higher-ups!"

[mirohtron]

the villain jumped at the sound of a twig snapping.

and then, immediately, felt faint. they pressed their palm to the bleeding wound on their side and tried to pay no mind to the white-hot pain, instead focusing on where the sound had come--from the bushes of this park, long forgotten by the city, along with this little neighbourhood. they peered, blinked hazily. light played from a dim little lamppost onto a figure, a pair of eyes peering back.

oh, how close the villain was to home. and yet, look at how close danger was to them. they drew their knife from their boot with a shaking, blood-slicked hand. they willed their voice not to shake as the lamppost flickered. "out," they called. "now."

from the bushes came a soft gasp, and then rustling. it wouldn't be smart to throw their knife at whoever was there and hope it landed on the target. the villain found themselves considering that option either way.

this park was unkempt, uncared for, the grass going up to their knees. this was where teenagers came to smoke or have unhygienic trysts. the trees, old and heavy with their branches and planted too close, formed canopies. benches lay half-covered in weeds and moss. the lampposts were dim, flickering, with weak bulbs and creaky poles. this was not the best place to fight, especially considering their state. going to the blocks would be much safer.

the villain forced themselves to step away from the rusty lamppost they'd been leaning on and winced when it creaked. they kept their eyes trained on the bushes. they stepped backwards and closer to the gates, knife before them. they ignored every terrible ache in their body, gritted their teeth.

they heard a pained groan. tilted their head to the side.

out, with impossible speed, came something red. the villain could barely comprehend it before a human-shaped weight partially slammed them against one of the stone pillars lining the metal fence, and their shoulder went white with bruising pain when corded muscle hit one of the anti-climb metal spikes. oh, this was so uncomfortable. the corner of the pillar dug into their muscle.

suddenly their entire skin stung, and the villain's body contracted and jumped at a spike of electricity. their vision was hazy, and then quickly the weight shifted, and an annoyingly high nasal voice screeched in their ear.

"oh my god! oh my god, shit, i'm so sorry, i--"

the villain groaned, starting to slide down, but hands caught them by their sides and forced them to lean against the pillar. they blinked spots out of their vision, and a pair of worried, flickering amber-yellow eyes came into their view, along with a nose, slightly bruised, taped with white medical tape.

ah. that explained the terrible voice.

"i'm so sorry," said the person who had slammed them into a fence at light speed. the villain could barely think, barely manage another groan. "holy shit, you're bleeding. i mean, i knew you were bleeding, but not so much--"

no shit, sherlock, the villain wanted to say. but they were stung with another bout of electricity. the speedster yelped and let go, allowing the villain to sink into the knee-high grass. they kneeled and pushed grass away from the villain's body. where did their knife go?

amber-yellow electricity flickered around the speedster's body. the villain glanced up and now saw brown eyes, the amber gone.

"you..." they said, and wanted to hiss it, but ended up sounding just croaky.

"i'm sorry, i don't know how to control it yet," the speedster said, speaking swiftly. but it was unnatural; they enunciated each word properly, but their tongue seemed to move unnaturally fast, like a sped up recording. "i don't know anyone who can help me except you, i mean, you have powers too, right?"

no. the villain merely faked that with tech. but they nodded either way, because they didn't trust themselves to have the mind to omit vital information should they explain that right now.

"so you're not here to kill me," they said in a croaky voice. nonetheless, it sounded pretty all right.

"no! no, i just--i don't trust those heroes."

the villain laughed at that, and then hissed when it sent pain to their side. "good kiddo."

the speedster hovered their hands over the villain's wound, awkward, unsure of what to do, but still eager to help. "i'm not a kid." the speedster said.

"think you'll shock me again?" the villain asked, ignoring the speedster.

"n-no? it only happens when i'm nervous."

"do i make you nervous?"

the speedster frowned. "i dunno, do you like getting electrocuted?"

that almost made the villain laugh again, but instead they just settled for a grin. they held out their bloody hand. "get me up."

the speedster pulled their arm around their neck. "ew," they complained, queasy about the sticky blood. but they lifted the villain up and apologised when the villain groaned and led them out of the park.

"tell me about your powers," the villain said, so that they'd have a distraction from their pain.

relief spread over the speedster's face, like they'd been eager to share their story. "oh, it was a mess how i got it. i, like, visited the rich part of the city for a university interview. i got lost, and, like, i had money. i thought i'd get something to ease up, you know?"

the villain chuckled and bit down on the pain that bloomed from it. the speedster huffed but righted their body and went on. their voice fluctuated between nasal and normal, like they were putting care to incorporate their stomach into their breathing.

"so i walked into this shady place. fuck, dude, it was this horribly surveillanced lab. i touched something i shouldn't have—i didn't even need weed to be that stupid!—and spilled some chemicals i didn't know about. it was raining that day too, and, like, it blew out the electricity. i stumbled into something, turned something on. i got shocked so hard that i should've died, but i woke up surrounded by these scary, suited-up people. and i got scared, and i started, like, vibrating and electrocuting these guys. i saw a window to escape, so i ran. i ran back home. slammed into a couple walls on the way." they pointed to their broken, bandaged nose. "i don't know how to control this."

for the first time, the villain peered more closely into their face and saw how badly their nose had been taken care of. there was too much stuffing in one nostril, too little in the other. it was not going to heal in a straight line. "i can tell."

the speedster moved their face back, and the villain's knees gave out at yet another electrical shock, pulling the speedster down with them. they gasped.

"i'm so sorry!"

"s'fine." the villain gasped. "you got a medkit at your place?"

"uh-huh."

"take me there."

the speedster blinked. "are you sure?"

"yes."

"aren't you scared i'll hurt you?"

"scared you'll do it on accident."

the speedster frowned, but they lugged the villain on.

their place was small, the paint slightly cracked. outside, their complex appeared run down, the balconies rusted and old, graffiti at the entrance and more on the walls which bordered the complex. but the speedster had made their apartment look as cozy as possible, with warm lights and little trinkets and large posters of bands and movies and television shows plastered to the wall.

"it's not much," the speedster said as they came out of the bathroom, medkit and damp towel in hand. they handed the towl to the villain, who cleaned off the blood from their face and hands.

"it's cute," said the villain. the speedster's twin-sized bed, on which the villain sat, was beside the window that led to one of the balconies, slide up to allow cold night air in. not all buildings in this part of the city had balconies, and for the ones that did, they were too old to safely stand on. the villain noted that the speedster's balcony was tipped slightly downwards.

the speedster placed the medkit down beside their desk, and the villain pulled it towards their body, opening it and pulling out the hydrogen peroxide. the villain eyed their torn suit and their wound and sighed and pulled the top off, neck first so it wouldn't stretch unnecessarily.

electricity flickered, and the villain looked up to see the speedster decidedly not looking at them, standing awkwardly. they smiled. "i don't make you nervous, you said?"

"didn't say shit."

the villain directed their smile to the bottle and pulled out the cotton, wetting it. they hissed as they dabbed at the wound. the speedster shifted on their feet. "how long since you've had these powers?"

"...three days."

"hm."

"what?"

the villain took out the gauze and bandage with one hand and made a come hither motion with the other. the speedster bent to their level, and the villain ripped off their bandage.

"ah!" the speedster yelped, jumping back in a flash of electricity, covering their nose. they glared up at the villain, eyes amber-yellow, electricity in their pupils. "what the hell, man!"

"look at your nose," the villain murmured. "it's getting better already." that bruising from earlier was completely gone.

the speedster blinked, removing the cotton from their nostrils, half-bloody. they breathed in through their nose. "holy shit."

the villain raised their eyebrows. "super healing. electricity. super speed." they leaned back on an arm, tilting their head. "aren't you something."

the speedster pinched their nose. "it only aches."

"come here."

at that the speedster's attention came to them again. they stood straight, eyes accusing. "don't do something like that again."

"it's nothing like that." the villain gestured towards them with the gauze and bandage. "dress my wound."

the speedster blinked once more, but they came to the villain's side and kneeled, happy to help, and obediently dressed the wound.

the villain looked down at them with dark eyes, legs spread. "how eager you are," they murmured, "to get between my thighs."

the speedster made a flustered noise and flashed with electricity, prepared to run back, but this time the villain was fast enough to yank them onto bed. the speedster yelped, cheeks red. the villain came close. the speedster scooted back.

"uhm," the speedster said, wide-eyed. their hair was floating up now, static electricity buzzing around their body. the villain felt the hair on their arms rise, but they pushed forward regardless. "aren't you worried i'll, like, shock you?"

"aren't you worried," the villain murmured, and placed a hand on their heaving chest, "that i'll do bad things to you? i'm a villain, after all."

the speedster made a funny noise. "like--" they cleared their throat. "like what?"

the villain leaned in, breath brushing delicately against the shell of their ear. "like this," they whispered, and shoved the speedster out onto the balcony.

the speedster yelped, and then sat up, looking at them in shock.

the balcony creaked on rusted hinges. the villain yanked the window down just as the speedster moved to climb back inside.

they stared at the villain in hopeless dread.

the balcony gave. the speedster plunged. and then the balcony underneath their's fell under their weight, and so on and so forth, a horrible cacophony of rusted, creaking metal giving way over and over again, the result of the city's municipality forgetting this run-down neighbourhood.

when there was no more sound the villain opened the window and peered down to look at the speedster lying in bloody metal. they groaned like a wounded animal.

in the low light of the streetlights the villain watched the speedster's body heal, the bones mending, the skin stitching itself.

delicately, they perched their chin over their palm. "i'll help," they said. "but i'll help as bad guys do. and if i ask for favours, consider it a chance to pay off this debt." they checked their nails idly, and picked at the grime underneath. god, this new development was making them feel better already.

the speedster wailed.

"don't worry, darling!" they called. "i'll fashion a nice suit for you as a gift." wound and aching body forgotten, they fished out one of the speedster's clothes and tugged it on, and headed down to help their new...sidekick? apprentice? whatever the speedster had just become to them, the villain was glad they were their problem to handle.

this was going to be one hell of a ride.

[slytherinshua]

i'm not a vip by any means and i don't care for bigbang at all but i can't deny how much they did for the industry and how iconic they still continue to be. if i was a vip and i saw hybe release double take on their new boy group's album without a single care in the world, i'd be pissed as hell.

[likeabxrdinflight]

remember how I said I was gonna buy a playstation 5 with the money that I earn at my job

well I did that, thank you black friday sale. no regrets at all. but also, palworld is so never beating the pokemon plagiarism allegations lol.

[lewiscarrolatemybrain]

I do think there’s a conversation that should be had about art theft and plagiarism but it is so so funny to me that the vast majority of the time I see people insisting their art was ripped off you look at the things they said were copied from them and it’s like. Basic color theory. Golden Spiral Composition. A character being haloed by something contextually relevant to them. The concept of mood lighting.

I just think maybe before you insist other people have stolen from you you should first make sure your own art actually has unique characteristics that can be stolen.

[swiftieee-13]

Hey I Like Your Personality is such a rip off of So Not My Type I just discovered it today