#humanity off

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Expertise can't help you here.

[lgbtlunaverse]

The world exists in such a baffling state of simultaneous sex-aversion and sex-hegemony. Every social platform on the internet is trying to banish sex workers to the shadow realm but I can't post a tweet without at least two bots replying P U S S Y I N B I O. People are self-censoring sex to seggs and $3× but every other ad you see is still filled with half-naked women. Rightwingers want queer people arrested for so much as existing in the same postal code as a child and are also drumming up a moral panic about how teenage boys aren't getting laid enough. I feel like I'm losing my mind.

[alanaisalive]

Now that Eurovision is over, I want you all, especially the Americans, to take a good hard look at how the voting results turned out when people boycotted the event.

In the UK, the viewing figures were down about 2 million people compared to last year. Up to 2 million people made the conscious decision to not watch and not vote because of Israel's inclusion.

The final results of the public vote, Israel came in first place in the UK and got 12 points. Because the only people watching and voting were people who backed Israel or at least didn’t care one way or another.

This doesn't matter. It's a music contest. The boycott was still the right thing to do because it is just a show at the end of the day, and the viewing figures have more impact than the results.

But it is also a good object lesson to show you what happens if you boycott a vote over something that does matter. Choosing not to vote in, let's say, a presidential election will have similar results.

[8pxl]

PSA: Tumblr/Wordpress is preparing to start selling our user data to Midjourney and OpenAI.

you have to MANUALLY opt out of it as well.

to opt out on desktop, click your blog ➡️ blog settings ➡️ scroll til you see visibility options and it’ll be the last option to toggle.

to opt out on mobile, click your blog ➡️ scroll then click visibility ➡️ toggle opt out option.

if you’ve already opted out of showing up in google searches, it’s preselected for you. if you don’t have the option available, update your app or close your browser/refresh a few times. important to note you also have to opt out for each blog you own separately, so if you’d like to prevent AI scraping your blog i’d really recommend taking the time to opt out. (source)

[kingofthegophers]

started off with me thinking chilchuck reminded me a lot of marshal and then it spiralled from there

EDIT: part 2 with lycion in the reblogs bc tumblr is being mean and won't letting me upload multiple pictures in the original post :')

[redvelvetwishtree]

[bayoubodycount]

Now why am I getting Terminator 1 vibes...

WORLD FUCKING STOP.

[theshadowrealmitself]

I like to think that Vulcans who come to understand that Humans just can’t try to process emotions the same way as them, it’s just healthiest to let it out in harmless ways, decide that venting and stuff should be taken just as seriously as Vulcan’s meditation time, and will encourage the Humans around them to complain about what’s upsetting them

People who are used to aloof Vulcans who avoid Humans at all cost running into one comforting a Human

“-and then they said my cheesecake was subpar, and they didn’t even bring a dish!!!”

“The purpose of this event was that every participant brings a food item of sorts, correct?”

“Yeah!!”

“And they did not follow this rule while insulting dishes that were brought?”

“Mostly just my dish but yeah >:(“

“How illogical”

“That’s what I’m saying!!!”

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

License to Kitty.

[elodieunderglass]

changes and trends in horror-genre films are linked to the anxieties of the culture in its time and place. Vampires are the manifestation of grappling with sexuality; aliens, of foreign influence. Horror from the Cold War is about apathy and annihilation; classic Japanese horror is characterised by “nature’s revenge”; psychological horror plays with anxieties that absorbed its audience, like pregnancy/abortion, mental illness, femininity. Some horror presses on the bruise of being trapped in a situation with upsetting tasks to complete, especially ones that compromise you as a person - reflecting the horrors and anxieties of capitalism etc etc etc. Cosmic horror is slightly out of fashion because our culture is more comfortable with, even wistful for, “the unknown.” Monster horror now has to be aware of itself, as a contingent of people now live in the freedom and comfort of saying “I would willingly, gladly, even preferentially fuck that monster.” But I don’t know much about films or genres: that ground has been covered by cleverer people.

I don’t actually like horror or movies. What interests me at the moment is how horror of the 2020s has an element of perception and paying attention.

Multiple movies in one year discussed monsters that killed you if you perceived them. There are monsters you can’t look at; monsters that kill you instantly if you get their attention. Monsters where you have to be silent, look down, hold still: pray that they pass over you. M Zombies have changed from a hand-waved virus that covers extras in splashy gore, to insidious spores. A disaster film is called Don’t Look Up, a horror film is called Nope. Even trashy nun horror sets up strange premises of keeping your eyes fixed on something as the devil GETS you.

No idea if this is anything. (I haven’t seen any of these things because, unfortunately, I hate them.) Someone who understands better than me could say something clever here, and I hope they do.

But the thing I’m thinking about is what this will look like to the future, as the Victorian sex vampires and Cold War anxieties look to us. I think they’ll have a little sympathy, but they probably won’t. You poor little prey animals, the kids will say, you were awfully afraid of facing up to things, weren’t you?

[bet-on-me-13]

The cult of...Danny Fenton?

So! Way back when Danny first moved into his new neighborhood in Gotham, he had some trouble controlling his Powers. The different Types and Levels of Ectoplasm in the air when compared to Amity had thrown off his control.

He was used to being in places where his Ectoplasm meshed well with the Atmosphere, like a Water Balloon in a Pool, but in Gotham that analogy would be closer to a Water Balloon in the sewers. It was too different from what he was used to to fully control his Powers.

So it's understandable that he messed up a few times and his neighbors found out about his Abilities.

They took it well at first, Danny wasn't going to go Rogues or anything, and he never used them maliciously, but eventually they got curious.

They asked what his limits were, how he got them in the first place, and what the hell the Ghost Zone was. The answers "None Really", "I died and was reborn", and "A Collective of every Afterlife at once" did spark some interesting reactions from them.

Most importantly, a few of them joked about him being an Eldritch God that they needed to worship. He was good enough friends with them that at that point they felt comfortable pranking eachother, so they did just that.

Danny woke up one day on his birthday, and saw all of his friends and neighbors surrounding the makeshift Throne they had made and put him on while he was asleep. The entire day they chanted stuff like "The Great One requires Ms. Smiths Apple Pie for his day of birth!" And "The Great One Wishes for us to sing the Ritual Song! Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birth-"

After his birthday, they kept up the joke.

It didn't help that his powers had evolved Again! And now he could bestow abilities onto his friends. The jokes they made about their God granting them Supernatural Powers to rule the world with were insufferable.

Then, one day while he was just resting at home, watching a movie on his TV, he felt a Pull at his Core. The same kind of Pull whenever he was being summoned. But why would they summon hi- Oh Shit! It's Mr Jenkins Party today! He was supposed to meet them at the Warehouse they used for special events an Hour Ago!

He quickly accepted the Summoning, but was met with a suprising sight. His Neighbors all tied up in a pile to his right, a spilled table of party food to his left, and right in front of him, Batman and his Family watching him with wary eyes.

Slowly, he opened his mouth. "...so, did you come for the party or..."

[ithinkdogshouldvote]

Guardian swap au for 4/13 ^ ^

[ippu81]

The Darkest Hour.

He sat by the hospital bed, listening and watching, " You gotta hang in there. Come on, please don't go."

He almost begged; he wasn't sure if he could hear anything anymore. It's said that hearing and touch are the last senses to detect when a person dies. He took her hand in his. It was so delicate, cold, limp. He tried to warm it in his own larger hands, hoping she knew he was there still, that she would react and squeeze his hand. But no, the delicate, icy hand remained limp, and he saw the nurses had removed her ring. Well, it wouldn't stay on her finger when his loved one was so withered and so finished.

He refused to believe the doctors when, two months earlier, they had told them both that nothing could be done, no medicine would help, and now they just had to treat the symptoms and try to maintain their quality of life. Quality would be more important than duration, but he wasn't ready to give up on his love just yet.

He felt so powerless, so alone, when he knew what the future would be without her. He heard a slight change in her breathing, a slight break, and felt his heart stop. He stood up.

He lowered the side of the hospital bed and took her in his arms, stroked her hair, and felt her limp, thin body against him. How cold she already was. Pale. Her breathing slowed again; there was a break in it, and now he couldn't stop the tears that flowed from his eyes as he held his dying wife in his arms.

He felt her heart slow and realized how finished her body was. He whispered something in a broken voice, his eyes wet with tears. Then it stopped. He could no longer feel his wife's heart beating or hear her breathing. He broke down, crying inconsolably, holding his now-dead wife in his arms.

Sobbing, " Elena, I love you, always. Remember that. I know we weren't together for long, but you made me so much better, and now I don't know how I can be without you."

Finally, when the nurses and doctors came and pronounced Elena Salvatore dead of leukemia, Damon walked away. He couldn't be human anymore, and he knew, he'd heard, that certain witches would make him a vampire again. He wanted to take his feelings away now and not feel this wrenching emptiness and powerlessness that seemed to tear through him.

Six months later. Michigan.

Fiona Westen was on her way home after a long day at school. She was a teacher and taught children about seven years old. The school where she worked was relatively small, and there were not too many students. She lived alone. She had no time for socializing as she was trying to study simultaneously to get more training for her university studies.

She turned into her driveway on her bike and noticed a raven sitting on the ground; well, it wasn't unusual. She had heard of ravens before. Fiona liked animals, and her favorite subject was teaching biology and telling children about the wonders of nature and animals.

She had two cats, black and white, and she was not above being inventive when the white cat was called Snow and the black cat was called Soot. She got off her bike and walked it out into the yard, and the raven didn't move as she passed by. Fiona locked up her bike and walked back to the bird.

She got close, and the bird only took a few steps, looking weak. Fiona had nursed birds back to health before, and the raven was omnivorous, so she would find food for it before it got stronger again.

She went inside her house. It was a terraced two-room house, and her cats just raised their heads when they saw her enter. She got an old cage. It was big enough for the raven to be in there recovering, and she put in some minced meat and berries, some seeds in the dishes, and water; she would see how the raven recovered.

She walked out; the bird was still in the place, and she took the bird's hands gently, being careful of its powerful beak. She didn't see a ring on the leg, and the bird didn't feel too skinny; she felt and spread its wings; they worked. Then she carried the birds inside. Either the bird had some disease but didn't seem sick, or it had crashed into something.

Fiona had always volunteered during school holidays at animal welfare societies and bird sanctuaries, so she had experience. She put the raven in a cage and was delighted when the raven went to eat the mince. Fiona then went to the kitchen.

She warmed up her food as usual, emailed her mother and cousin, and sighed as she thought about the upcoming wedding. It was one of her cousins, and then she would have to listen to hours of her aunt wondering why she didn't have a boyfriend or even a girlfriend. When she wasn't gay, she wasn't just looking for a relationship now as she was trying to concentrate on her career and get a better job while she finished her studies. 

She watched TV in the evening. She had done some studying, knowing that in a couple of weeks, she would have another brief break when she would resume her studies at university. She couldn't or didn't want to take long periods of leave when she was saving money, so she tried to work as much as she could, and balancing work and study was sometimes quite tricky.

It was getting ten at night, and she always went to bed early. She had given the raven more mince; it seemed in better shape, although it was sleeping quite a lot, and she was mildly worried. There weren't many vets who treated wild animals, and as the raven was not a rare bird, it was possible that the vet just put it down. But she always wanted to give it a chance, so she gave it more mince. Then she retired to her bedroom, brushed her teeth, changed into her pajamas, and went to bed. She was asleep in ten minutes. 

In the cage, the raven watched and listened, and when he was sure she was asleep, he turned into a mist; the mist floated in the air and slowly passed under the bedroom door. After a few minutes, Damon watched his sleeping victim with pleasure.

He approached the bed; she was asleep on her back, snoring softly he went to the bedside, looked at her with no emotion other than the bloodlust that showed in his red eyes, turned her head to the side, leaned over her, and bit his teeth into her neck and drank, delightfully tasting her life force.

When he had drunk half a liter or a little more, he pulled his teeth out, bit his lip, and licked the bite marks on his tongue where his blood was. Healing them, he licked every drop of blood off, turned into a mist, and returned to the cage as a raven. 

Fiona woke up in the morning; she had a headache and was thirsty; she brushed her teeth, put on her clothes, and went for breakfast and coffee, taking the raven some minced meat; he seemed to be much better, even vocalizing in his cage. 

Fiona ate and returned to her daily routine, going to work and shopping when she got home. She was thirstier today, and she didn't think about it. She wasn't pretty; her small eyes, high cheekbones, big nose, and bad skin didn't make her attractive when she wore enormous glasses. Her eyesight wasn't good.

She was thin and shapeless. She remembered how, in school days, other girls teased her, the board. Then, when she was still quite tall, it only emphasized her shapelessness.

She went back then for the afternoon. She gave the raven fresh meat now that she had bought it in the shop, ate, studied, watched love movies on TV, daydreamed now, and then went to bed. 

 Damon turned into a mist again, went and feasted on his victim. He did the same thing every night, enjoying watching from his cage as she came in to eat in the morning, paler and paler, weaker and weaker, utterly unaware of what had happened in the night. Damon enjoyed the power he had over his victim.

He had done the same thing many times across America, where Stefan had been a brutal ripper. He was a secret beast who weakened his victim mercilessly and slowly, enjoying their weakness.

It had been five nights since he had feasted on his victim, and now it would be time for the ultimate climax. He waited as she, white as a sheet, now walking unsteadily as she was dizzy, came into the kitchen, gulping juice and water, making coffee and breakfast.

When she had eaten and was coming into the living room to give him meat again, Damon, in a mist, came out of the cage, making her scream and freeze in place. Damon let his red eyes show, the black veins around his eyes making him look like a demon. He smiled cruelly as he came towards her.

 "Greetings, don't be afraid, it won't hurt. But then again, I lied; it does hurt, but first, I'll have a little appetizer." 

Fiona couldn't move; the raven had turned into a mist, and now a vampire was in front of her. She had heard of vampires. She had just never seen one, and she watched as the handsome vampire man went and took the Snow; her cat stroked it and then struck his teeth into the cat's side, right through the heart, and drank a few swallows, and the Snow hung lifelessly from the man's grip.

Fiona never forgot how the Snow had squeaked when the vampire had bitten. The vampire took the Soot in his arms and stroked it, muttered something to it, and Fiona felt her heart pounding. The Soot had been a wildcat, hadn't trusted a human, and with work and perseverance, she had tamed the cat.

The vampire looked at her and struck his teeth into the cat's heart, which shrieked. And it was over quickly. The vampire threw the cat's carcass away, took a few steps towards her, and touched her on the cheek. The vampire's fingers were ice cold and chills of fear and terror ran down the Fiona's spine.

The vampire whispered, "I have enjoyed your blood every night, and now it is time for the last meal..."

He brushed Fiona's insignificant brown hair away from her neck, bent the woman's head to the side and now slammed his teeth into the side of her neck, making her scream in pain but unable to move.

The vampire's throat moved as he swallowed her now dilute blood greedily, hearing her pulse quicken, smelling the fear and terror of his prey, and then the best part as the pulse slowed. He held his now almost unconscious prey close and greedily continued to drink, and his pleasure was complete as the heartbeat stopped and she stopped breathing. He drank all the blood he could and healed the bite wounds again. He didn't leave evidence behind him and dropped the dead woman on the floor. It was time to change the scenery again. 

Twenty years later, Mystic Falls, cemetery.

Bonnie Bennet visited first time in ages. It had been a while since she last visited, and she had never been to Elena's grave; she hadn't even known of her death while she had been traveling the world.

On a bush walk in Australia, she overheard a tearful message from Caroline on her phone when she returned to civilization. Elena had been diagnosed with a very rare and malignant form of leukemia, and no treatments were working. Damon had been with Elena until the end but had then disappeared and hadn't even been to the funeral.

No one had seen Damon, no one they knew, and Bonnie could not help but feel deep sympathy for Damon. He had lost his brother, and when she broke Cai's curse on Elena, she woke her up. They hadn't had Damon for over three years, and they married after the diagnosis. Elena had wanted to die as Salvatore.

Bonnie had been sad and had been so many times about to go back, but she had never gotten over the death of Enzo. She hadn't been able to go back, knowing that Elena had died too. Caroline was now the headmistress of the school. Alaric was back as a vampire hunter. Matt had moved to New York, made it as far as the detective, and had found a partner. Jeremy also lived the life of a vampire hunter or whatever evil creatures they were looking for.  

Bonnie first walked into Stefan's tomb. Even though Stefan had ripped Enzo out of her life, she didn't want to hold a grudge. Stefan had been dead for over 20 years, and although Bonnie believed there was peace and that one day she would meet Enzo again, she couldn't help but miss him every single day.

Then she went on her way and found Elena's gravestone. Elena Gilbert, it said, not Salvatore. Caroline had told him that Damon had given Elena's name as Gilbert, not Salvatore, after her death, and Bonnie couldn't help but sigh, knowing that Damon had been in a terrible place and no one had heard about him.

She noticed the ring on Elena's headstone. It had been there for a long time. It was a man's ring. She took it in her hand.

There was engraving, "My soul mate, with love always and forever, Elena."

Bonnie realized that this had been Damon's wedding ring, and he had left it behind. Bonnie laid the bouquet of yellow lilies on Elena's grave, sighed, and just as suddenly felt the danger was near. A fog crept into the cemetery, and a feeling of dread grew in Bonnie's heart. She could feel her heart rate rising.

"Hello, Bon Bon." a familiar voice said suddenly from behind her.

Bonnie was startled and turned around. "Damon. How... no one knew where you were."

Bonnie noticed Damon was just as young looking, then his red eyes and the daylight ring on his right hand told the truth.

"How did you? It's not possible you're a vampire again; the cure killed Katherine; how?."

Damon took a step closer. Bonnie's skin was thinner. This one had wrinkles around her eyes and even a little grey in her hair, yet this one was only 40 or so.

Damon said, his voice cold as ice, "I found some witches, black witches that sucked the healing out of me, making me a vampire again, so I don't have to feel."

Bonnie sighed. Elena's death had broken Damon. This one had made himself a vampire again and taken his humanity off. Stefan was long dead, Elena was dead, and Bonnie wasn't sure how to help her friend. She would have to get Damon's humanity back on.

Damon said, " I don't have my humanity anymore. I have my telepathy, though. Look, Bon Bon, and I wanted it that way, so those witches took my humanity away from me completely. Now, no one can make me weak."

Bonnie said, "I'll get it back when I try. What would Elena say now? She wouldn't have wanted you to do this."

Damon laughed; it was actually a scary sound, and Bonnie almost felt the urge to run away. She had never been so afraid of anything in her life.

Damon said, " Bon Bon, Elena is not here; she died, and besides, that cliché belongs to people; I'm not one of them."

Bonnie gulped. She was like a deer in headlights when Damon came closer. Right on her, looking at her like a piece of meat. Sweeping her hair back, exposing her neck, Bonnie tried to get her mouth, which was suddenly really dry, to say something, but Damon, or what was left of him, was a beast. Indeed. She didn't see an ounce of humanity in this now.

Damon whispered, " Witches are tasty, and I'm hungry.."

Bonnie felt a sharp pain pierce her neck, and hot pain burned as Damon sank his teeth into her neck and drank her blood. And fast. Bonnie tried to summon her magic, but Damon drank her blood relentlessly, fast, and she felt her head spin as the dizziness took over. Her pulse was pounding, and Damon's icy hands held her, and the more he drank, the warmer his hands became.

Bonnie felt her consciousness almost shut down as Damon took his teeth out, looked at her with his mouth bloody, and said, " Well, Bon Bon, don't worry. Soon, you'll be back with Enzo, and tell Elena I said hello."

Damon bit again. Bonnie screamed, tried to fight now, but her movements were powerless, weak; darkness rolled across her vision, and her consciousness shut down.

Damon felt the witch's strong blood trickle down his throat, and he relished it. This was his nature, his true essence, and he had no regrets when he killed and drank away the woman he once considered his best friend. He could feel Bonnie's pulse slowing. Soon, this would be his, as so many other women had been over the decades; Bonnie was limp, cold, and lifeless as he released his grip.

Her eyes were half open, looking at nothingness, lips parted, dry, and expression well dead; he looked at the dead woman for a moment, turned into a raven, and flew away. He had had another meal, and it was time to change places. Find a new victim to feed on for a few nights. They say the darkest hour is just before dawn, and he didn't care. His life was to enjoy that very darkest hour.

[balis77]

Fun fact: Samus' zero suit is a bodysuit in more recent games instead of the tank-top she wore in older games because at this point, she's been spliced with so many species' DNA you really don't want to see what the rest of her skin looks like.

[jonnywaistcoat]

hey jonny, i just thought you'd want to know that character.ai has an ai-generated imitation of your voice and i'm not sure what other websites might have it or where it originated :(

Yeah, it's a fucking garbage state of affairs but, as a somewhat well-known performer with a pretty distinctive voice it doesn't exactly shock me. Needless to say I think anyone who used this is a mediocre waste of skin and if they ever tell me in person they've used it then 50/50 I punch them in the teeth.

I can't wait for a couple of years when it all collapses just like every other niche-but-interesting-technology-with-limited-use-cases-sold-as-a-universal-panacea-to-gormless-CEOs grift (blockchain being the best example). Because the thing is, none of these things actually make any money and cost a vast amount, so as soon as all the dumb venture capital funding dries up and AI is required to actually start paying for itself, the bubble bursts and the whole industry is fucked.

That said, it's gonna be rough when it happens - a lot of companies have invested very heavily in AI and they're going to be hurting badly. I know of more than one media company whose idiot executives invested ridiculous amounts into NFTs and ended up laying off massive swathes of workers when that obvious fucking scam collapsed. I suspect the AI crash is gonna be even worse than that. And by then it will have drowned the Internet in slop. We'll see, I guess.

Anyway, anyone who uses AI is a soulless fucking husk of a person who cannot tell half-digested vomit from culture, and I would pity them if they weren't making the world such a measurably worse place to exist.

[mintaikk]

I fuck hard with Asexual Venom, but the idea of Venom, an alien whose species doesn't breed sexually and don't have concepts of sex, being sexually attracted to some boring sad and sweaty white guy he picked up on the streets is just so funny to me