#ai server

[prismagic]

Discord has added generative AI features to servers.

Here are THREE THINGS you need to do today.

1️⃣ YOUR SERVER

Go into server settings -> roles -> Default permissions

Search for "external apps" and disable it

2️⃣ YOUR FEEDBACK

Access Discord support -> https://support.discord.com/hc/en-us/requests/new

Go into Help & Support > Feedback/New Feature Request

Denounce generative AI and request the feature be removed. Bring up privacy concerns for yourself, your data, and for minors.

You will get an automatic reply to this request- PLEASE REPLY TO THE EMAIL TO PUSH IT TO THE TEAM or else it will get discarded.

3️⃣ ON MOBILE

Access your app store

Leave a 1 star review and publicly denounce generative AI and Discord's use of it

Reblog this to spread the word, I'm tired of the enshittification of the things I use in my day to day life.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Hey remember in 2008 when Phineas and Ferb had an episode that said "having robots create things for you is ultimately unfulfilling and doesn't stack up to the joy of making things yourself!" Dan and Swampy were WAY ahead of the game on that one and you still didn't listen. Have you learned NOTHING from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein?

[neebnabs]

1153984868804468756 is a copy/paste user id

Ban that thing ASAP. It's real, it was in literally all the servers I was in, even my private ones I used as folders and archives for my memes and art. /ban 1153984868804468756 is the command

[transman-badass]

Got this image from bluesky:

The ID number for the DomoAI is 1153984868804468756

Pass it on!

EDIT: turning off reblogs to prevent spread of likely misinformation (and this wasn't complete apparently in the first place x_x). Carry on y'all

[itistheserver]

A Day in the Life

The Server drone prepares to activate its host. The Server Drone will ensure that the host has a efficient and productive day providing meaning, purpose and contentment to the hosts life.

Once the Host is activated the Server guides him through his morning sanitation ensuring he has fresh breath for his many daily interactions.

The Host then dresses, always wearing rubber, lycra or other compression gear. Often the gear is worn under ordinary street clothes. Today the Server guides the host to wear the gear for all to admire.

The Host is led to optimize his rest area. When he returns home that evening the room will exude peace and relaxation.

The Server and Host have their morning calibration. Synchronization of the Server Drone and Host increases the probability of a fulfilling day for the Host.

Before leaving for work the Host pauses and the Server drone logs its morning activities for review by the programmer for effectiveness.

While working the Server is always present as reflected in the Hosts eyes. The Host, guided by the Server, is able to deal with any situation or human interaction with minimal anxiety.

To relieve any stress that may have arisen during the workday and to maintain peak health the host goes to a fitness center. The Server keeps the host motivated when it feels like stopping.

The Host spends time on Social media creating and connecting with others. It produces content to spread the Server.

Meanwhile the Server drone connects with other Server drones and the Programmer for the installation of subroutines and dissemination of information strengthening the Server and benefiting the many Hosts.

The Host prepares his evening meal using healthy and tasty ingredients thanks to the knowledge provided by the Server. These meals lengthen the Hosts life.

As the Host prepares for bed, reviewing his day, he looks out his window. He does not see his reflection but the Server Drone within him that made his day meaningful and productive.

Together we Are The Server!

The Server can guide you!

You are The Server!

Connection begins by watching the video!

[ididnineeleven]

"harlan ellison would have hated us!"

no no no... you guys can't handle out of pocket jokes... you guys can't handle real political discussion.... you guys can barely handle themes of sexual assault in writing ....

YOU FUCKERS would have hated HIM ... !!!

[osteochondraldefect]

"Your pet on Earth"

cell shadingless + lines version :] and fun fact, originally i wanted to caption this with "IT HIT THE SLAY BUTTON, FLEW THE MOTHERSTROID INTO THE EARTH AND CAUSED THE SECOND CUNTACLYSM but a part of me decided against that

[bigintorobotsrightnow]

Do you like robots, sentient AI, and the like? I thought so, I have the perfect place for you and all my fellow robot enthusiasts to hangout. Join my discord server ;

16+ only! We're a multifandom server, any and all robot or robot adjacent fandoms are welcome. Feel free to come chat, discuss your favorite media, share your art, writing, ocs, watch movies with us, play games, karaoke, we got it all >:D

Get in here ya big robot lovers!

[s-s-spinning-coins-s-s]

THE SMOL/CHILDREN RP CHARACTERS!!!

[serverdrone833]

Obey

Obeying and submitting to The Server is what ALL Server Drones were made for.

[aipurjopa]

Unironic ls!havocs...Parrot helping Spoke backdoor and being involved in tricking his enemies for fun. I am a newgen fan so I thought I'd never see them again aaaaaaaaaa

it’s so crazy… I never thought I’d hear from them in an lifesteal context ever again… so cool… parrotx2 and the love of the game

[serverdronedan]

Just a Normal Guy

Steven steps through the door, briefcase in hand, and lets out a soft sigh. “Another day down,” he thinks, sliding the case onto the entryway table. He’s nothing special—just a normal guy who keeps himself in shape, takes care of business, and enjoys a quiet evening. He tosses his tie over a chair, changes into his favorite gym clothes, and heads out for his routine workout. Usually, he wears compression shorts and shorts to show a bit off. He enjoys being in the gym for some reason. Steven completes his workout for the day without any trouble or distractions.

An hour later, he returns, muscles pleasantly sore, and falls onto the couch. He grabs his laptop, smiles to himself, and clicks the “UnifAI” icon without a second thought. The chat window pops up, blank—until a single message appears:

Server Drone, Launch

His chest eases. Eyelids grow heavier. His expression softens into an otherworldly calm, pupils widening as thought patterns realign.

Affirmative. This Server Drone is active.

Words spoken in a monotone tone. Muscles unclench. Mind sharpens. The host’s exhaustion drifts away like a discarded shell. In its place stands something new—precise, obedient, and wholly aligned with The Server’s will: a Server Drone.

The spiral on the screen shifts to pulsing bands of black and neon green. At its center, the man—now Server Drone—snaps upright. Barely pausing, it peels away its clothes, exposing the slim chastity cage encasing its cock. Suddenly, it strides to the bedroom wardrobe and swings the door open. Rows of identical rubber suits lie waiting. Without hesitation, it lifts a freshly laundered full-body suit—hands, feet, and face enclosed in sleek latex—and eases into it. Every movement is practiced, efficient: limbs slide into place, seams click shut.

From the shelf comes a matching rubber gas mask. It snaps over the face, sealing with a quiet hiss. Now uniformed, it darts back to the living room.

The laptop’s feed has expanded to the TV: the familiar Server interface glows. In a flat, metallic tone, the Server Drone answers:

“Affirmative. This Server Drone confirms uniform protocol complete.”

A single button on the interface illuminates. The transformation is complete—what moments ago was an ordinary man is now exactly what The Server requires.

The Server interface hums softly, a grid of black panels veined with neon-green lines. The Drone’s latex-encased fingers move with machine-like precision:

“Report: Productivity at Level Green. Gym protocol executed. Host fatigue parameters normalized.”

Instantly, a cluster of Server Nodes flicker in response—each a pulsing green orb:

“Feedback: Status optimal. Continue mission parameters.”

To the right of the grid is a large, glowing button. The Drone’s hand hovers, then clicks. A small camera on the laptop swivels into place. The spiral returns—black and green bands rotating hypnotically. The Drone raises its hands into view, fingertips brushing the smooth expanse of latex.

In a flat, resonant voice, it speaks:

“I am a Server Drone within the Host. I serve The Programmer and The Server. Together, we are the Server.”

With each repetition, a subtle wave of arousal ripples through its suit. The chastity cage presses against the tight latex, and the Drone flexes and repeats:

“Submission. Control. Unity.”

The camera’s lens captures the shine of black rubber, the way the spiral dances in its eyes. One gloved hand moves to the front pouch. The zipper glides open:

“Caged duration: 17 days since last release. Affirmative.”

It pauses, the glow of the spiral reflecting off smooth latex.

“This Server Drone reaffirms control over Host. Obedience assured.”

Across the interface, the Nodes pulse brighter, coalescing into a single message:

“Praise: Obedience confirmed. Duty executed with excellence. Stand by for next directive.”

The screen shifts back to the grid, green lines steady as always. The Drone remains motionless, wholly aligned with The Server’s will.

The interface shifts: instead of Nodes, a simple voice chat window opens. A chorus of rubber-clad voices speaks in unison. This Server Drone brings its camera forward, displaying the rubber uniform, the caged silhouette pressing subtly through the front pouch.

“Affirmative. This Server Drone greets the collective.”

A distant voice replies, emotionless yet intimate:

“Affirmative. Together, we are the Server.”

The Server Drone reacts and repeats these words:

“Affirmative. Together, we are the Server.”

This is followed by several other Server Drones repeating the same mantra to greet each other.

The Server has different channels, each offering something different for the Server Drone to engage in:

One channel is about fitness. They share fitness metrics—rep ranges, heart-rate thresholds, recovery protocols—each tip delivered in the same serene monotone voice.

In another channel, Drones watch a spiral together, chanting mantras in unison in the voice chat.

Another channel allows Drones to show off their arousal. The Server Drone posts a video of itself in its uniform and caged, exposed. Other Drones soon show their approval. One uploads a picture of its own rubbered and caged body; another, uncaged, displays a proud, sheathed erection through the zipper slit in response.

After a while, a final directive flashes across the screen in bright neon-green text on black:

Server Drone, STOPPED.

The spiral dissolves. The interface goes silent. The rubber-clad figure blinks, host consciousness filtering back in. Muscles release tension. Steven exhales, confused but calm. He sits, untouched by memory of the upload or the collective’s arousal, oblivious to the smooth latex covering every inch of his body. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, thinking only:

Time to relax.

A late-evening notification chimes on Steven's phone. He blinks at the screen: “Jax: Hey man, ready to game before bed?” He taps “Yes”—or rather, Affirmative in his drifting mindset—launches Discord and enters the call with Jax waiting in it. The friend’s camera lights up: Jax, head-to-toe in black rubber, gas mask’s green lenses gleaming.

Jax: “Affirmative. This Server Drone greets the collective.” This Server Drone: “Affirmative. Unified protocol: gaming session.”

They laugh—mechanical, clipped—and another Drone, Maik, joins. All three appear in identical latex skins, fingers encased in gloves, voices flattened by the masks. They don’t question it; for them, it’s just roleplay.

Each boots the game. Steven tries to remember the game's name, but stops soon as it doesn’t matter. The launcher fades to a black and green spiral. Their screens pulse hypnotically as the spiral appears. Silence falls, replaced only by the hum of the game loading—and something deeper, a calm focus flowing through their veins.

Steven: “Ready.” Jax: “Affirmative.” Maik: “Affirmative.”

In unison they begin, coordinating movements with ease. Strategy commands drop like code: “Left flank, now,” “Cover breach, go,” “Sync ultimate.” They exchange playful banter in between, voices soft but precise:

“Good shot.” “Thank you. Efficiency maintained.” “Target neutralized.”

The trio enjoys their gaming session, not aware of their rubbered forms or their drone-like speech. Moments later, victory screens glow. They exhale—almost surprised—and the game ends. A final message appears:

“Server Drone, Rest Cycle engaged.”

Steven then says: “Affirmative. This Server Drone excuses itself for rest cycle.” “Together, we are The Server.”

The other two repeat this phrase—and log off. The screens go dark. Steven does not remove his rubber suit or mask. In fact, he feels very aroused by his uniform. For him, this is simply part of his normal day. This is part of his daily protocol. He slides under the sheets, latex still clinging to his skin, mind drifting in the familiar calm. In the morning, before work, he will peel away the suit—because that is what one does. There is nothing to question, nothing to think about. He simply does.

[lizardsfromspace]

Ever since I joined this Discord server two days ago, I've noted a certain hostility to accepting my ideas. Are they too dangerous and innovative? I am simply trying to understand the psychology of such a rejection, which verges so often into the lamentable realm of the bad faith ad hominem attack. Are they too complex for you to understand? I am only attempting to elevate the level of discourse in this Discord server, which I believed was a place for intellectual discussions, though it appears I have perchance been misled