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rainhalydia · 1 year

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So here is a hypothetical question I’m apparently going round the tumblr asking people. Imagine you have a novel about to be published by a moderately successful publishing house and they have given you an advance that would just about allow you to take a sabbatical from your job and focus on writing full time. Netflix have got hold of a press copy of the novel and offer you a life changing amount (let’s say it would buy you your dream home and give you a little to spare). But you will have no creative control over the show Netflix will make and you will have to agree to withhold publication of the novel until Netflix want it released. Would you take the money and let the show possibly be made? Or not? Why?

♥️♥️♥️s

Hi!!!

I took a while to answer this because it was basically impossible to do it before (work), but I've been rotating this scenario in my brain ever since getting this ask.

I think that if a) Netflix actually gives me the money, as they're apparently given to try to steal content from people (and I suppose that goes for most corporations one deals with, sadly) and b) I've not yet signed anything with the publishing house, I'd sell the novel to Netflix. In the end, even if I end up hating the finished product, a life-changing amount would mean I got to write as much as I ever wanted for the rest of my life! Never mind a sabbatical, I could quit work and just dedicated myself to it.

I guess it all comes down to artistic integrity, but to me, that's not irreconciliable with giving up creative control? Maybe I'm cynical or just greedy and irresponsible, but to me artists adapting to their circumstances is just part of that life. Artists have always had sponsors and patrons, and we're not all Tchaikovsky, most people that come offering money also come with opinions and their own agenda. Of course in the ideal world, we'd be able to have complete creative control over our own creations, but that can never happen. Corporate greed aside, even if you're completely independent, the reader, the audience, they'll come with their own subjective baggage and have their own interpretation of your work... it's an illusion to think we can keep our work 'pure' and limit the way it'll be read, so making a deal with a company that will give you enough money to resolve your life in exchange to do something that would happen anyway in some form sounds good to me.

I suppose this opinion comes with the knowledge that most writers are unlikely to be recognized on the street, much less get so famous that people will only ever associate them with one thing - obvious exceptions like GRRM and JKR are too rare to count - and that Netflix is more on the 'woke' side of the spectrum than the alt-right side. I would not do it if you sent this ask using a platform that produces fascist content as an example. Also, I've done plenty of shitty things under my own name, so it's like, no matter what Netflix pulls, I can always do worse! Hell, rather than buy my dream house, I can settle for a small flat and then open my own publishing house, and publish my own garbage forever, campaign to make it part of the public school curriculum, sell it to other companies that are not Netflix, etc. What I mean is, once you're in a comfortable place financially, the sky is the limit. You can keep writing, keep creating, and what you do from then on can be as completely controlled by you as humanly possible.

#i'm a sell out #thanks for asking #i suppose i approach writing as any other work skill #perhaps i have a bad case of capitalism brain #but i do not feel artistically disrespected by people doing whatever #with my work #i'm curious what prompted that though #would love to have your thoughts on that as well!#i've not been on tumblr recently so please link me #if you already have posts on that

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saphirered · 1 year

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Fall For Me: Chapter 2

//Summary: After the stranger came crashing through the canopy you against better judgement dragged him home to tend to his injuries. You’re beginning to think this may have been a bad idea but for some reason you can’t just let him get himself killed.

Azriel awakes to a strong herbal and firewood smell. ‘Awakes’ is a strong word. He’s more aware of his surroundings. He still feels like shit, more so than before. He’s had worse but in those cases he also benefitted from a good healer or a kind carer. He had neither now. He notes he’s no longer face down in the soil. Nor is he on the cold stone of a prison cell. He doesn’t know where the hell he is. The surface is soft, and instead of dirt his face rests against a pillow, turned just to the side so he doesn’t suffocate. It doesn’t really add up. Some grinding sound he thought first was just in his head apparently is not his brain attempting to leak out of his ears and nose but someone using a pestle and mortar to grind down something solid. He mumbles some curses though even he can tell they’re far less coherent than his mind had hoped they’d be. Either way, the sound stops. A few second pass and something pokes at the top of his shoulder. He ignores it. It happens again.

“Come on. I know you’re awake.” You speak. He pushes himself up far too quickly. His body protests and aches as he reaches for his weapons and raises his blade in defence. The sudden movement really did a number on him as darkness creeps in on the edges of his vision but he shakes his head to shake it off, to no avail. There he sees you; you’re still dressed the same minus the cloak you’d worn. Your attire of earth tones contrasted just a little more within this chamber. Your eyes are wide, like an animal meeting the eye of the hunter and you stumble backwards, to put distance between the two of you. Your breathing has picked up and he almost misses you reaching for the butcher’s knife on the table next to you. He notes you did not make a single sound.

“Who are you? Where am I?” He demands but you’re to busy to find a quick and harmless way out. He doesn’t lower the knife and you hardly think someone still high on adrenaline and blood loss is going to make the best decisions right now. He takes a shaky step forward and you see you’ll have a solid shot at making it just past him to the window and through before he can even get close.

“I’m no one.” You circle around towards the window step by step. “You’re twelve miles out from the capital. Please just put down the knife.” The one you had taken you held low along your side so it wouldn’t be marked offensive or perhaps even noticed at all, though the latter seems unlikely.

“Why did you bring me here?” Another demand. Azriel needs answers. Only twelve miles. That’s not enough. They’ll be on his trail soon and he’ll have to move quickly. He can’t stay here.

“You fell from the sky. You were hurt. If I didn’t stop the poison from spreading, you’d likely still be out there paralysed at worst, unconscious at best. Whoever did that to you, would have found you by now.” So that’s why the arrow wounds are burning so much, not because of the poison but because of the antidote. You hadn’t tended to other injuries that was clear and Azriel is glad for it. He has no reason to trust you. You’ve surely got no reason to trust him.

“How far away?” He lowers the blade just slightly but still keeps it interposed. You’re at the window now, back turned to it. You turn the key slowly, as quietly as you can.

“Three miles south.” You answer. Azriel curses and attempts to reach behind himself. You’re about ready to twist the key the last of the way when you think he might be reaching for another weapon but when you see him grimace and bite his tongue seemingly putting an awful lot of force on whatever he grasps onto you realise it’s one of the broken arrows. “Have you gone mental?” You find yourself all but shouting.

“I need to get out of here. I can’t exactly do that with some arrows in my back.” He speaks through gritted teeth. You can hear the skin tearing.

“Did no one ever teach you you should leave the arrow in until you get to a healer?”

“I can fix myself!” The arrow comes free and he discards it on the floor. It’s soaked in blood and you can only imagine what the wound must look like given the barbed head. You cringe and feel a phantom pain you can’t quite describe but you know you’d rather not feel it again.

“You can’t do shit in a state like this!” He tries to reach for the other one but can’t quite get a grasp on it right and pulls it at an angle. It nestles deeper and he muffles his pain. You watch him sway a little. Every instinct within you tells you to get out and run as far as your legs will carry you but then what? Another part of you, urges you to help him. He falls to his knees and the halfway twisted key remains like that. You drop the butchers knife back on the table and catch him before he can fall further. You lift him back onto the bed and manage to catch a glimpse at the fresh wound. It looks about as bad as you thought it would. That phantom pain pulses at the acknowledgement. The shadows coil around him and instead of pushing you away like they did before, they push you towards him. What the hell is up with these shadows?

“Look what you did. You made it worse. You’d be lucky if you could raise your wing at all in the next five minutes.” Okay maybe Azriel isn’t as sound of mind as he normally is but he has to get out of here. He’s got an hour at best by his estimation. He can’t just stay here.

“And you are a healer?” You managed to remedy the poison. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched of a thought you could do more than that.

“I’m a scholar.” Well there go his hopes.

“A scholar in the middle of nowhere?”

“I prefer my solitude.” There so much to unpack right there and while something within Azriel wants to find out, something he brushes off as curiosity through survival instincts, he can’t linger. “But I can heal. To an extend.”

“Patch me up so I can get out of here and I’ll give you whatever you want.” He offers but you do not even seem to consider his offer.

“Given the looks of this, if I don’t stop this bleeding with the next fifteen minutes I’ll be a whole lot closer to having a body to bury instead.” Not much more convincing necessary. He wants to get out fast, which to you clearly means whoever is after him, he believes to still be on his tail which means they might eventually find their way here. It’ll be a much more difficult to get rid of a body in that time frame than it is to hiding a living creature. At least, for you.

“Just get to work.”

“And they said I had terrible bedside manners.” You mumble as you begin gathering the supplies necessary to deal with these injuries. Your hands were shaking until you actually held the tools. From thereon they were as steady as a healer’s. You can do this, and once he’s fixed you can send him on his way without that strange feeling coiling in your stomach. Why do you care if he gets himself captured or killed? You have no attachment to him. He’s just a stranger. You’re doing this for you. Once he’s gone, you can go back to your quiet life.

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #acotar #azriel x you #acotar x you #azriel shadowsinger #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction

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genshinsidepiece · 2 years

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Spoil of War

So I didn't expect A Worthy Sacrifice to get the reaction it's gotten. Thanks so much to everyone for the comments, likes, reblogs it means a lot to me. :) I hadn't planned on continuing this, but a part 2 worked it's way into my brain.

Warnings: Slightly Dark, Implied Forced Relationship, Imprisonment, Implied Innocence Kink, Implied Voyeurism, Implied Somnophilia, Implied Non-Con, 18+, My Bad Writing

Summary: You begin your new life in Snezhnaya, but not everything is as it seems.

A maiden of virtuous quality and meek countenance. That’s what he had told the elders he had wanted. In their haste, your village elders hadn’t clarified what he had wanted of you. That particular detail wasn’t of any concern to them. During your assessment his underlings had only ever looked for specific ideals within you. Your looks hadn’t been especially important, though as you later discovered, you certainly fit his preferred type. Now that you were his, you’d come to understand why he had chosen you. In his eyes, you were untainted by the bloodshed of war. You were naive to the inner workings of the world. You were everything he was not.

Perhaps he used the concept of you to assuage his guilt or perhaps he simply wished to admire that which he inevitably destroyed. You couldn’t say. You never saw him for long enough to ask him. You never saw him at all.

Others had it far worse. It was difficult for you to comprehend that at times, especially when your isolation began to root it’s way into your mind, but it was true. What was being a trophy, kept in a world of comfort and silence compared to one with mad scientists and unimaginable atrocities? Others were suffering far worse than you, but that knowledge didn’t lessen the state of loneliness that your captor seemed to enjoy keeping you in.

After your selection, you hadn’t fought. You hadn’t argued. You let them do what they wanted to you. Your time in the selection process had shown you that the notion of resisting anything regarding the lord harbinger seemed futile. Disobedience would not be tolerated. It would only bring the business end of a whip or a switch across your skin. Escape or the attempt of escape would bring nothing short of a long painful death. His men were quick to show you that if the lord harbinger couldn’t have what could be easily given, he would simply take it. As was the case with your village. As was the case with you. Your compliance would earn you far more than fighting ever could. You chose to resign yourself to your fate. Giving in to the illusion that you had a choice in the matter.

Your captor's status meant that your trip had been made in relative comfort. The carriage had been spacious, with plenty of room to stretch out since there were only two of you. He kept to his side, while you clung to yours. The only time you met in the middle was when he insisted on being diligent in his efforts to keep you wrapped in heavy fur blankets, especially so when the frigid Snezhnayan weather set in. Him doting on you seemed out of place for one with so fearsome a reputation. You could almost imagine a warm smile behind the dark void that concealed his face. It was a disturbing notion, so you did your best to avoid looking at him altogether. No easy feat considering your knees were nearly touching.

Curiosity regarding you had infiltrated the ranks of his personal guard and it was a favorite pastime of the soldiers to ride up alongside the carriage in the hopes they might get a glimpse. Having never been considered a great beauty by your village’s standards, it was a boost to your personal ego to have so many wanting to see you. The perks of being with a harbinger you supposed. Your lord harbinger was less than enthralled with it. The curtains inside the coach were closed after the first day and remained that way until your party was on the outskirts of the capital. How foolish you were not to take it as a sign of things to come.

His home, like him, was one of elegant simplicity. Stone and glass enveloped you as he escorted you into the uncluttered foyer. No servants greeted you, which you found peculiar. Your cloaks were left near the door, your Lord Harbinger pushing you towards the fire that roared in the oversized fireplace that sat just off the front doors. It did little to warm you. The front door slamming home with a bang, and the tinkering of locks afterward sent a chill that nestled itself deep into your bones. Nothing seemed to take it away. In fact, it only seemed to get worse whenever he drew near.

Your new home came as a surprise. Your mind had spun up several different scenarios when it came to your confinement. On the trip here you had prepared yourself to be met with a room or a cell or even being confined to his bed. A large apartment that was inconspicuously sealed off from the public areas of the house was something you hadn’t been ready for. It was a pleasant surprise, despite the amount of secret doors and locks that had to be turned to even reach it. The first twinges of worry began to work their way into a knot in your stomach. You wondered how many, if any, outside of him had access to your area of his house.

The deeper you wandered the more you discovered. The apartment itself was an odd amalgamation of things. Frivolous and delicate furniture had been combined with an exquisitely curated collection of treasures from all over Teyvat. Trophies likely taken from his various conquests. Your feelings of unease only got worse when you realized that you were simply the latest addition to his collection.

The main hallway that led to the bedroom was particularly cramped. Covering the walls from one end to the other were portraits of different women. Who they were and where they had come from was a mystery. You could only guess these were the women who had come before you. Other touches of them had been throughout the apartment, in the form of baubles and trinkets. But this was the harsh confirmation that you were not the first to live here and it was likely you would not be the last.

The realization sent a cold shiver down your spine as questions about their fates began to surface. You wanted to ask. In fact, there were many things you had wanted to ask since coming here. Why had his men been sent away every time you had left the carriage? Why were there no servants? Why had no one outside of him touched or spoken to you since you had left your village? Why were all the women in the paintings wearing the same dress as you? Your curiosity overrode your need to be silent. You turned to face him, working up the courage to confront him, yet no one was there. He was long gone and your only escape route had been firmly locked. A silent command to listen. A silent command to obey. Lest you suffer the fate of all those that had come before you. Such was the game with him.

Initially, you had imagined he thought you witless enough to be satisfied with good food, nice clothes, and the warmth of the fire. That you were content with a life of comfort without any expectation of returning his generosity. He was only half right. While resigned that you now belonged to him, you knew he would want more. It was true, you were naive to how the world worked, but you were not so blind to the odd groans that came from behind the walls or the soft sighs that echoed off your bathroom walls as you finished bathing or the touches that haunted you while you slept. You knew what they meant. You knew what was coming.

By now it wasn’t a secret that there were hidden points of entry into your domain. As time had dragged on, you had caught the automatons he used to look after you briefly accessing them before they disappeared from view. It also wasn’t terribly shocking that there were two way mirrors and translucent screens for your lord's private use.

The first time you had realized his eyes were on you, you had tried to pass it off as nothing. In your complete boredom, you had taken to lounging on a large pile of pillows near the sitting room fireplace. The book you had selected from the small library available to you wasn’t terribly interesting. Like many of the titles he allowed you to read, it was pure fantasy. It had a villain, a damsel, and a hero who always came to the rescue. You imagined that’s how he saw your relationship. He your knight and you his maiden in distress. You found it ironic that he never acknowledged that he was the source of said distress. But you never dwelled on the notion for long. You continued reading, simply passing the time until your next meal appeared.

In an effort to get more comfortable, you had pulled your impossibly heavy skirts up past your calves, giving you legs some much needed breathing room. The breathy sigh that followed that action didn’t come from you. It was hollow and it echoed. Trembling slightly, you briefly shifted your eyes from your book towards the filigree screen panels that were on the wall opposite you. The awkwardness of the moment haunted you for the next few days as you weren’t entirely sure what to do. It had been weeks since your arrival. Weeks since you had made contact with another soul. Had he finally decided to check in on you or had he always been there? The notion that you hadn’t been alone the whole time and that he had likely witnessed you doing the most basic of things nearly made you sick. Your eyes snapped forward, a heavy blush creeping it’s way across your cheeks. You took to your bed shortly afterward, your book abandoned by the fire as you hid under the heavy covers. You didn’t come out until the next morning. It was a good lesson to be more observant in the future.

The second time was far worse. There was no passing it off as nothing, because it wasn’t something as innocent as him observing you. After the sitting room incident you had found it hard to sleep. You could hear his faint breath echoing off of everything. After a few days of this, you were near hysteria. In what you guessed was an effort to help you, a cup of tea was left at your bedside after your evening bath. The effects were slow to take hold, but once they did you fell into a dreamless slumber that kept you under until late the next morning.

To your horror, you awoke to find yourself and your bed in complete disarray. The sheets and your thighs were covered with what looked like a translucent discharge. The source of it was a complete mystery to you. For your part, you had always had difficulty with your cycle. Your mother generally helped you with matters such as these, but she was not here and you doubted your lord harbinger was well versed in female aliments. All you could do was try to get cleaned up. Rising, you winced when your thighs brushed against one another, the skin chafed for some unknown reason. What had happened to you?

The issue continued on as time passed. In addition to the chafing and the mystery substance, bruising had begun to form on your arms and thighs. Fearing something was wrong with your health, you stopped drinking the tea. The issue hadn’t happened before you had started drinking it, so perhaps you were allergic? That helped with the bruises and the chafing, but the discharge remained. What little adjustments you could make to your diet, you did. You experimented not eating or drinking different combinations, but nothing seemed to help. The issue continued until you were once again in a state of panic. Your mind went back to the other women. It went back to their fates. Is this how it had started for them? Was it going to get worse? Is this how you were going to leave this world?

Frantic, you did the only thing you could think of doing; you ran to the sitting room screen. “My…my lord” You flinched slightly at the rust in your voice. You hadn’t spoken much upon your arrival, signs of disuse were natural, but they were also embarrassing. Clearing your throat you tried again, conceding to do the one thing you had avoided doing since he had taken you. “Capitano.” His name was a whisper on your lips, but he still heard you. The cold breeze of a door opening from behind the screen told you he was there. The cold that ebbed through the screen told you he was close. “Please, help me.” You swallowed what was left of your pride, too frightened for your own well being to put it above your survival. “I… I fear something is wrong. I worry I am ill.” You didn’t bother to elaborate on your malady. Your nightgown and sheets were changed daily. It was likely he already knew something was wrong. Maybe that’s why he had come when you called.

Your fingers pressed into the metal in front of you, clawing at the gilded mesh in a vain attempt to grab hold of it. For a second you thought that the tip of your finger brushed against the leather of his glove. You clawed at the screen further, trying to find the sensation again, but it was gone. “Please.. You are the only one who can help me.” You choked back a sob upon that realization. It was a hard lesson to take. “Please…” Your tears began to freely fall. It was humiliating to beg him for anything, but you had little choice in the matter. Your mind had come to the natural conclusion that you were dying. You needed a doctor and despite your complete compliance, his price for giving you more would be to further humiliate you by forcing you to ask.

When you finished, you were met with his silence. Your knees gave out when he didn't respond. You allowed your fingers to break free from the screen, chipping your smooth nails as your knees hit the unforgiving floor. Could you really mean so little to him? Had he abandoned you to die? “Darling” You nearly choked on your tears when his voice filled the small space between you. “Dry your eyes. You are not ill.” You sucked in a stuttered breath, the lilt in his voice not lost on you. What about you begging for help was so funny to him? “You have my word, all is well.” Those words brought you little comfort. If anything, they put you more on edge. As if this had been his plan all along. After months of being his captive, after months of doing your best to ignore him despite crippling isolation, he had found a way to bring you to him. Worse than that, you had almost gone into his debt by asking him for something. Your whole body shuddered, while you drew in a ragged breath. That was how everything had started for the others. That was what had led them to their fate. A debt to that couldn’t be repaid. Archons help you.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #capitano #capitano x reader #genshin capitano #the fatui harbingers #the fatui

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trashcornertully · 7 months

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unsolicited list of some of my current favourite monster prom ships atm and why

buckle up buckaroos. click "Keep reading" if you want to know Too Much. There are spoilers below the cut, so be wary!!

Milo/Damien ("Damilo" or "Revelation 20:14") Damien's an interesting character (despite what I've heard some detractors say) because he's a very sweet, sensitive guy with rad creative hobbies, but (mostly in Prom, less in Camp and Roadtrip) he paints a thick veneer of aggression and nonchalance over the top of it all. But he also enjoys that veneer, so he sort of inhabits two 'types' which, rather than competing, coalesce into one wild whole. Milo also contains multitudes. When I first played Camp it took me a while to perceive their depths, but the more I saw of them the more I got a taste for the person behind the persona. Their elegance and aestheticism is still a key aspect of who they are though, but it's offset by them being both funny and classy. I feel like Milo appeals to Damien's sensitive side, as well as his sartorial and cosmetic hobbies. Conversely, I think Damien's reckless tendencies would be exciting to Milo, and they have the choice to give themselves over or have a bit of fun trying to reign him in (which they're certainly powerful enough to do).

Dahlia/Joy ("Joylia" or "Goetia") While I always found this concept sweet and/or hot, I never expected I'd actually like it so much, but let's just say I got a couple of secret routes and now I really get it. Dahlia, like Damien, has a lot of facets hidden under her nominal motivation. So does Joy, although it's less of a secret that, despite her workaholic nature, she'd rather be doing anything other than constantly saving the world. Her and Dahlia are among the members of the Monster Prom cast that have full-on careers: Joy is a capital-"H" Hero, Dahlia is a warlord with vast off-screen armies at her disposal. Dahlia, like a couple of other characters, wants to be in the Coven so bad it makes her look stupid. I think however that Dahlia really just wants to be closer to Joy. They feel very star-crossed to me, both coming from rather different realms and spheres of influence, but always intersecting in fairly significant events. Two separate friends have shared the sentiment with me that, out of all the ships I've brain-rotted over, I feel like "Joylia" are the ones who would fully get married – even at the risk of one of their storylines interrupting the ceremony. Shout out to @ventagram.

Milo/Polly ("Molly" or "Afterlife") Milo and Polly are a brilliant pair, which @terrencemcterrence first opened my eyes to. My earliest ships involving Milo and Polly were actually putting them individually with Zoe, but "Molly" is a ship with a lot of steam behind it. First of all, they're both very "extra" characters with hidden depths. Secondly, they're both functionally immortal. They've got the potential to be rather bad influences on each other (Milo with their drive for recognition and extravagance, Polly with her dragon-chasing and dangerous impulses), but due to the nature of who they are both physically and psychologically, that's more likely to produce fun results than not. Overall this is a pretty decadent and enjoyable ship. Lots of potential for excellent fluff, deeper moments, wild zesty lemon, and perhaps a bit of poignant angst.

Zoe/Damien ("Zomien" or "Calamari") These two are the kind who'd bond over both their similarities and their vast differences. Both of them spent time in the Academy dealing with roles and responsibilities imposed on them unduly by parental figures. While it's the Player who helps them out with that in both cases, Damien has more overlap and interactions in Zoe's, being one of the major figures in her "IDENTITY" route, while Zoe doesn't really exist yet in many of Damien's routes. Regardless of that, their non-route interactions generally seem to indicate to me that Zoe genuinely has a crush on Damien based on the topics she chooses to discuss both with and about him. They're also both generally very creative and expressive in niche and personal ways. They're all about finding their own truth, perhaps more transparently than some other characters. "Zomien" for me is about exploring those feelings, and where they could take them. They're also just really cute together, prove me wrong.

—

That's all for now, 'cause this was basically a mini-essay. I'll happily answer any questions anybody has about these, or talk about other pairings I like if I can think of enough to say about them.

#monster prom #monster camp #monster roadtrip #fanfiction #shipping #ship talk #joylia #zomien #damilo #damien lavey #milo belladonna #zoe #monster prom zoe #dahlia aquino #polly geist

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tuulikannel · 7 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

So I already got this twice so I guess I should try to get an answer out ^^;; It's... really a tough task though, but here we go! I can’t really pick a clear favorite of them all, so they’re just in random order. (Or actually, I guess they're in the order in which they've last been updated/posted.)

1. Caught Between, my Hikaru no Go fic where Sai's a real kid with dreams of turning go pro, an intersex condition, and not... the greatest parents in the world, I guess. (His mom has grown on me though.) I've talked about this fic a lot before, so I'll just say that I'm so glad I finally started posting it and that I've managed to nearly reach the end - still need to wrap things up, but at Sai's finally where he wants to be in live, so in that regard, all's fine.

2. blind alley, Assassination Classroom fic which, as usual for me, is basically about Shuu's relationship with his dad. The summary is rather short: "One day, Gakushuu decides to end it all. Just, all does not end that easily." I've said it before, I don't even know why I like this fic so much. Maybe I'm just a sucker for sad things? I don't think I've ever said anything about the title, have I? Cause this is a rare case where I didn't have to struggle to come up with a title only to end up with something mediocre. I was originally going to name this Dead End, cause stupid puns & Shuu being in a sense stuck in one, but then realized that blind alley refers to the same thing, plus it has the word "blind" in it... and you could say Shuu is blind to the truth for a good while there. (why I decided not to capitalize it, I don't know. Sometimes things just look better like that to me.)

3. oneironautics, AssClass & The Sandman crossover (no knowledge of Sandman required.) Again, Shuu and his dad are in the spotlight. It's just that I like Gakushuu, I found Gakuhou simply... intriguing. What's going on his brain? How did he really go so crazy? I've never felt like Ikeda's death would have been quite enough for that. They hadn't even been in touch for years! So, yeah, I guess one goal for me in this fic was to create him one potential background where all the problems have their roots. Also, writing dreams is fun. ^^

4. Ok, those first three were clear, but now it's getting hard. I've two random Hikaru no Go fics in mind here... maybe I'll pick the one that showcases my fic-naming abilities, It’s the Zombie Apocalypse! XD Its birth was absolute randomness, once upon a time in the hikago community on Dreamwidth people were playing Let’s Five on Hikago Day. Someone asked who'd be the five characters who'd survive the zombie apocalypse, and reading the answers I was attacked by a rabid plotbunny. This fic... it was just so fun to write. And I like how it's got a true ending and a bad ending (the reader's choice determines which you get.) (And, dammit, I'll mention the other fic I was just considering too: Chika-go, the Hikago & Dresden Filess crossover. Another fic that was really fun to write. And it has my first ever battle scenes. XD Also, I like the title for various reasons. ^^)

5. Then, finally: The End of Silence (The All Paths Lead to God of Go Remix), yet one more Hikago fic. This is perhaps a bit surprising choice, but I can’t help it… there’s something about this little fic I really like. It’s a remix, as you see (tho in all honesty it’s more like a sequel than a real remix, I feel), of Flonnebonne’s drabble The Silent Path where Akari, not Hikaru, was the one to end up with Sai. I had always wanted to write about Akari more, but somehow never had any inspiration. This (though I'm sure it's not exactly what anyone expects XD) fixed that.

#I feel like The House should have been mentioned in this too...#assassination classroom #hikaru no go #my fics #asks

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genshin-side-piece · 2 years

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Spoil of War

Warnings: Slightly Dark, Implied Forced Relationship, Imprisonment, Implied Innocence Kink, Implied Voyeurism, Implied Somnophilia, Implied Non-Con, 18+, My Bad Writing

Summary: You begin your new life in Snezhnaya, but not everything is as it seems.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #capitano #capitano x reader #genshin capitano #the fatui harbingers #the fatui

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rhaenyras · 1 year

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when men say shit like "booo hooo i need to work 8h per day in a stupid factory or in a coal mine to earn a living wage while lucky privileged women only need to sell one (1) feet picture per week or marry rich and they're settled for life".... i cannot even begin to make the full unabridged list of all the points they're missing or intentionally trying not to see. because, point one, my hermano, you should probably take this very valid complaint to your employer. the permeating capitalistic rethoric we're all wallowing in has led you to believe that you cannot change the status quo and therefore you have come to accept your subjugation with complacency. in this state of supposed powerlessness and self-pity daze, you would never dare question your direct superior or the power dynamic they impose on you, in fact the only thing you feel brave enough to do is take your frustrations out on unemployed people surviving on welfare, immigrants, or sex workers. and that's literally the dumbest shit you could ever do because it's NOT them exploiting your labour by also deliberately allowing you just enough crumbs to keep your head above the water AND simultaneously pounding into your brain the mere delusion that you should indeed feel mildly content with your situation, because that's how it's always been and that's what you were born to do and that's what everyone else is doing and how dare you question that. anyone with a solid foothold on reality would tell you just as much, no? plus communism is just unfeasible and crazy and just as bad as fascism, after all. while capitalism just feels so right and has virtually no downsides or long-term consequences for the environment or humankind, am i right?

point second, women put out more work than anyone on this god-forsaken piece of junk floating in space and don't you ever dare say otherwise because, again, you'll only sound ridiculous and out of touch. women are responsible for ALL the care and emotional labour you have ever encountered or demanded in your life. in fact, without women and the enormous staggering gigantic weight of childbearing + childrearing + homemaking placed on their back since birth for millennia, you wouldn't even be breathing right now, and perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad thing now, would it?

furthermore, even if we're choosing to stupidly ignore the weight of being expected to care and assist every child or old person in your proximity, it's still worth mentioning that black and brown women make up 85% of the workforce employed in garments sweatshops, under appalling working conditions and laughable wages. I don't know what sort of tale you're telling yourselves but it seems to me that women are still getting the short end of the stick here as even the ones benefiting from white privilege are still, in fact, working "regular jobs" and being paid less for it than the average male coworker, while still not shying away from all the unpaid unseen labour that sustains entire households and family dynamics, the absence of which would lead to the downfall of patriarchal order and the world as we know it.

oh and as per the feet picture turn of phrase y'all keep coming back to.... I don't know how to explain to you that having your entire body and every single part of it commodified and sexualised and turned into a "kink" for men to get off to is not something you should be jealous of. the fact that there MAY be some money in it, might look like privilege and luck to you, but it's actually the only way women could find to own this unreciprocated unsolicited male desire and, being the resilient resourceful survivors that we are, we turned it into a viable career path, which still, doesn't come without its challenges and pitfalls, and should not really be idealized, as in many cases, it is not even a woman's first choice.

the latest wave of feminism has only now begun to try and correct all the wrongs and is still timidly attempting to recalibrate the scales of rights so that they're not too heavily tipped in your favor anymore. and even still, we probably won't reach full equality for the next 200 years because of all the lousy ignorant pathetic obtrusive misinformed bullshit you keep spreading, pushing back our efforts of several decades (-: the least you could do is literally just to SHUT UP and let the anti-capitalistic feminist agenda advance without further hindrance from the likes of socially unaware pricks in tinfoil hats like y'all.

#im...mad today #i know this is all wasted on tumblr because the men i talk of are simply not on here #but still.... i had it in me and i needed to get it out #i might actually post it to ig #rant.txt #feminism

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myemotionalsuppportcatboy · 1 year

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I got Rise of The Sphinx for Christmas and I’m making it everyone’s problem

This game can be summed up in the two sentences I said when thanking my mom for getting it for me. “This game is atrocious. Thank you so much for buying it for me.”

More thoughts under the cut. There are spoilers.

Another quick review of this game is: buy it if you want, but do not pay full price for it.

The good: I CAN BE MY BLORBOS. Both Ladybug and Chat Noir are playable in every level. You get to explore Paris. You can switch between characters whenever so I had so much fun talking to everyone and then switching who I was to see how the dialogue change. You can upgrade the stats of both LB and CN and learn new skills, which is nice. The plot is actually pretty good. It proves again that Natalie is the brains of this operation. Using Chloe to create akumatizations in others is not new, but it does make sense. The new Chloe akuma design (Clonika) does slay. I get to beat up Hawkmoth. There are cute little character moments. Ladybug and Chat Noir talk throughout the levels and while some of it gets old most of it is cute. DID I MENTION THE BLORBOS?

The bad: It plays like a PS2 game. The models are...questionable. There is a good amount of time spent watching loading screens and things still phase into the levels. I jumped in the wrong spot on the Clonika level and clipped through the level and couldn’t get out so I had to redo the whole thing and I was almost at the end of it. You can’t control the camera and it sucks ass. There were several times I had to do a leap of faith or run ahead without being able to see where I was going. Collecting items and orbs is a big part of the game so it sucks that you can’t freely look around. Some areas of the levels were really laggy. This was worst in boss fights but would also happen sometimes when I was just walking around and I was like, I’m not even doing anything? There was one platform section in the last level with some orbs that I gave up on because my jump was so messed up and I also clipped through and slid off the platform without moving several times. The combat was very lackluster, lots of button mashing and standing around until you could get a hit in on bosses. IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK A SPHINX IS? THAT IS MOTH. SHOULD HAVE BEEN CALLED RISE OF HAWKMOTH. COME ON. There is a flashback that explains how HM came to be (Natalie and Gabe are stuck on finding the cat and ladybug miraculouses and Gabe decides that using one miraculous might bring out the others), he makes a huge giant sentimonster moth. It sets up Miracle Queen and the big change of status quo that follows. His RISE in power, perhaps.

The meh: There are A LOT of collectibles. Some are right in your path, which is nice for the literal children playing this game. Some require more exploration or replays. It was nice that exploring was rewarded somewhat. Sometimes there would be a little area you could go to and there would be nothing there and I would be like why did you make it so I could go here and then not put anything here? Like this an obvious spot for a collectable and there’s nothing? In general the levels also go between rooftops and the street and it’s not always clear when jumping down is encouraged and when it will kill you. The game is very forgiving of that, though. Each akuma transforms Paris and honestly I really liked some of then new elements that each akuma brought. It was weird to have such empty levels and not interacting with the akumatized villain until the end in most cases. I really liked seeing the lucky charm each time and how LB and CN used it but it could just be cut scenes without the QTEs. The little comments were cute but did get old. There is one for CN where the subtitle says Woohoo but it’s more like a deranged giggle and it makes me want to come for Bryce Papenbrook’s kneecaps. As for Christina, Mari has one “awesome!” that I found grating. Other than that the voice acting is great!

TL:DR The game is clearly a cash grab made to capitalize on children who will beg for anything with Ladybug and Chat Noir on the packaging and plays like it. The quality is poor and the game play is simple. However, you do get to be your blorbos, the story is solid, and there are cute character interactions so if that’s what you’re looking for and you have the cash to spare, go for it.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #miraculous rise of the sphinx #mrots #mrots spoilers

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sivarcher-sivvie · 1 year

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Small snippets of Valentine's Day fic that I'm working on! Which when I finished it will be late but oh well 🤣

---

Despite how the people from the 99th precinct see them, they do celebrate Valentine's Day.

That is the first thought when Raymond heard Jake is exclaiming so loud at the bullpen for: "I bet Captain Holt and Kevin doesn't even know today is Valentine's Day because it was just another capitalism ruse. "

"They will probably read some historic stuff about the St Valentine instead." Amy chimed in.

That was what keeps Raymond from doing his job this morning.

They do celebrate Valentine's Day, or perhaps the word celebrate is a little exaggerated. On the 14th of February, what he will do is make sure to go home early, enjoy a meal that can be compared to fine dining in a fine restaurant that is prepared carefully by Kevin - he will cook both of their favourites. And after that, they sit in the study room in an armchair each and enjoy the reading materials.

Sounds not much different than their usual evening if he or Kevin is not busy. Yet something is different, he can feel it in the air. Maybe it is the way he looks at Kevin, maybe it is the way Kevin looks at him. There is something mingling in the air.

On that day, everything is normal yet it seems abnormal at the same time. He could not quite tell what it was, perhaps it really is the Holiday Spirit.

When there's something to celebrate, or something to commemorate, even the smallest things seem special.

And that peculiar feeling surrounded him, making him want to listen to Kevin's voice, all of a sudden for no reason.

And so he did, make a phone call to Kevin, after he checks his schedule and makes sure he is available at the time.

"Good Afternoon, Kevin. " After merely three rings, the phone got picked up. That was faster than usual, is Kevin having the same feeling as him?

That sounds stupid to even think about.

"Good Afternoon, Raymond. What is it that makes you call at this time?" Kevin sounds uplifting from his slightly higher voice.

"Nothing special, I am just checking in. Peralta has been bugging me with his so-called Valentine's Day plan for the whole morning." He could not help but sound a little whining.

"Ah, I understand. Is there anything you would like me to help?" This is what he loves most about Kevin. Blunt and Direct. If you want anything from him, just tell. He will not join and is also bad at guessing games.

"No, but I appreciate your support." He knows there is no reason for him to call Kevin, and he knows Kevin knows too.

But they do not say it out loud, not everything needs to be upfront. Subtle is key.

"If that is the case, I trust that I will continue our evening as usual on this day? I will have your favourite ready when you come home." Kevin had purchased enough ingredients for him to prepare the meal and he sounded very excited for it, based on the fact that he paused and put emphasis on almost every word.

He should have said yes, of course. And ends the call with I love you as usual. But some part of him caught himself up, in his brain there's just a 'ding' to mimic an idea, and it is an idea that he would like to propose.

"Kevin, what do you say we..."

Back then when they were young and restless, they never had a chance to do this. Now they had the opportunity, but they are no longer the passion couple they used to be, they are mellow, comfortable life partners right now.

Still, being the immature one between them, Raymond believes that they should do it. They should...

"Head out for a date tonight?"

---

I'll probably finish this piece this weekend, and put it in the Daily Life collection.

And I gotta say... Between playing Disco Elysium and Hogwarts Legacy, it spins up a lot, and I meant A LOT of AU ideas... Which a lot of them will probably just stay as ideas lol

#holt x kevin #daily life of raymond and kevin #i love slice of life #and drama #of course and drama lol

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aronarchy · 2 years

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Sysmeds seem to be completely unable to be critical of the DSM or anything else they read if it’s “official,” lol.

The fight to exclude non-distressed impairment from definitions of disorder is a hard-fought ongoing battle by disability activists.

Currently, what is considered “functioning wrong” is determined entirely by (white Western) standards of what is “bad functioning”: when something goes against a set notion of what the body should be like/do. Once again sysmeds (like certain other bigoted/exclusionist/identity-invalidating/-disbelieving groups) essentialize the “default” human body (or what they consider the default) at the expense of individual needs and desires and experiences. If the body/mind is working “wrongly,” but the individual is okay with it and not distressed by it, where’s the issue? Why is it an illness, why does it need to be “fixed”?

Consider that not everyone aligns with the expected default regarding what they want and feel in comparison to what their body/mind is doing. And that is okay.

Major strawman/edge case there: anti-sysmedicalists have never said that the distress we discuss is “distress from knowing you have DID (they’re probably thinking of people feeling despair/internalized stigma).” We acknowledge that you can be in distress from experiencing DID while unaware/in denial of it. Not what this is about. If you “have parts” but are not in distress, it is not DID.

If someone “experiences issues” with relationships/work, that means they are distressed by it. But distress has to be evaluated in isolation: is their distress caused by having alters itself, or the alters fighting/switching a lot but not having alters itself (as in, if the fighting & frequent switching were addressed there would no longer be any distress), or is it because they are forced to do relationships/work because of society/capitalism forcing them into distressing situations they would not experience if they had choice in a liberated world?

Unless they aren’t distressed, but still do relationships/work in a way normative society considers “wrong”/rulebreaking/inefficient/whatever, and go through that totally aware and fine with it, and although they are incapable of forcing themselves to conform they are totally fine with not conforming. In which, once again, the problem would be with external society alone, not the way their brain works itself.

Perhaps think for a damn second before you start saying “disorder is when you can’t be a good little capitalist stooge on the assembly line being as productive as your peers even if you don’t have a problem with that as long as your bosses do.” Perhaps consider where that rhetoric likely came from, and who would benefit from it.

(Note: I’m not saying situations 1 or 2 would not qualify as DID/disordered. But clarifications.)

Seems like sysmeds on average/mostly consider autism inherently a disorder. But why would my autism be a disorder, if in an accommodating and non-stigmatizing world I would not experience any distress from the fact that I have it, and all the distress I experience right now is allowed to be because of/caused by external factors? (Obviously every autistic person has different experiences. But also, obviously, nuance exists.)

I do have actual disorders and the experience is quite different, they’re mostly hell with a few occasional reprieves (though I’m kind of recovering and have been doing better these past few months) but yeah, I’m extremely pissed off at medicalists trying to equate the two experiences. I (personally) would greatly appreciate if I had the option to make them/their symptoms go away entirely, as they’re quite unpleasant. I think it's quite ridiculous that certain people would claim experiencing that is equivalent to merely experiencing abnormality/non-normativity/divergence/difference.

Going to (shamelessly) self-promote my essay here, I scribbled it down at 2am two months ago and have been too low on spoons to edit out any potentially undesirable bits but I’m too tired of explaining the same things over and over and it’s reasonably comprehensive.

This post is not about origins, it is about currently experienced effects. Do not complain about this post being pro-/anti-endo, I’m pro-endo but that’s not really relevant to this.

#OP #syscourse #disability justice #disability liberation #neurodiversity #neurodivergent liberation #antipsych #anti psych #psych critical #psychiatry critical #autimedicalism #neuromedicalism #anti sysmedicalism #pro nondisordered systems #disabled #actually neurodivergent

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pluto-projectorrr · 1 year

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Hi tumblr, let me give this page kind of a little note. Perhaps sometime i'll re-read this note.

2022 such an amazeeeng year, actually. So much lesson i earn that year and yes, it maybe same for next day or maybe i'll modify or have a new pov, so dynamic.

First, every destiny is good, even we need time to realized it. Like i mention before, that year i moved to small city near forest and lake. It takes more than 12 hours to reach provincial capital. Tbh this place good for vacation like 2-7 days, but u'll get boring so i felt it. Until i realize that is not so bad. I feel more alive here, no more overtime and no more impromptu task. I have time for myself, reading, writing, or do sport. I was thinking, it's litterally such on Quran 2:216, maybe u don't like it, but it's good for u, yes, He knows, always.

Second, there is out there we can't control. We have plan, but it doesn't work, we need to accept it, fast or slow, may God help us. Someone left me that year which is good for both of us. At first, so many question in my head, but i choose not to search that answer. For some case, ignorance is bliss. I remember the wise word, from Al Ghazali: what is destined for u, it will be urs even if it is under two mountains, and what it is not urs, u'll not get it even if it is already between ur lips.

Third, for some case, telling ur boundaries and telling ur intentions will save both of u. Several months ago, i know that beautiful lady, look like good girl, with adorable character. We know each other, like yea just know actually, not like "know" each other. How i explain it? So, i try to confess with her, her reaction is good, but yeah nice try, is okay. Couple weeks later, there is someone who i think, likes me (tbh i dont know if she try to reach me or what, but many friends and people around us told me that she is likes me). For beginning, she asked me about work-things, and i don't know, i just respond usually, like other friend ask me. But, maybe she think i interested to her as couple, but no. Sorry if i hurt u. One of my friend said, "way, u r so kind, too friendly, maybe if we have a same age or u r older than me, i'll fall in love with u", oh i got the point. I'll not change my personality, but i'll set boundaries. I feel sorry for the broken lady, but it give me lesson, so thank you.

Fourth, being surrounding positivity is sooooo f powerful. This lesson i take from the lady i adore couple months ago. She is always look happy, even i know she's not. Do u realized, our world full of complaining, in real life our co-worker complain, in social media (especially twitter) full of complain, so much people think this is the bad life but actually there is only bad day. Complaining is natural, is humanist. I did several times, but rarely right now (haha). If some sh*t happen to me, i'll try to see from other side or being positive thinking like 'it must be good for me, maybe later i realize it'. Afterthat, i feel more relieved. So i just live it. Remembering Kartini's word: it is better to seek the light than to curse the darkness.

Fifth, myself is more more more important. I really love myself right now, i love my life, and everything on me. Alhamdulilaaah, God give me perfect body-part, have a healthy brain, beautiful eyes, and everything. Mazkun was right: yang sebaiknya kau jaga, adalah dirimu sendiri (the things that u better take care of, is urself).

Yes, it is. Maybe i'll adding some note later, but yeah, let face 2023 with brightly smile, optismistic, and more "Alhamdulillaah". 2022 was a tough year, but alhamdulillaah i'm safe and sound.

Ps: video is my very very 1st time try airport train🚄

#kontemplasi #reminder

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incorrigibill · 2 years

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Come back with me to the bakery and to recipes again. Remember that post, many, many days ago, about following recipes and having to make adjustments to them? I had something to add that I had not yet posted and it has been very much on my mind. How do you know if you are following a feeling, something unexplainable, or if you just think you are following a feeling—your inner compass—but have actually been bamboozled by your brain and have accidentally perhaps, let it take back control of your kitchen and you?

I have no perfect solution to this, no infallible test. But I have something nearly as good—evidence. In talking with others, which is something I do quite a lot of (another little fugitive!) I have found there is a certain residue of this brain intrusion that is like a chalk line at a crime scene. The hard evidence is gone, but the outlines of it have been drawn, and in this case take the form of reasons or rationalizations. Reasons, like chalk lines, can be visible and seemingly “there,” but also like chalk, of little real substance.

When you are crossing a road and decide to stop—or go faster—you do not have a reason, at least in the moment. Afterwards of course, if pressed, you will effortlessly come up with one as a kind of justification to support or explain what you have already done or decided. We do this all the time. All of us. Our species should really be renamed something like Homo-fictitious for our excellent and unparalleled story-creation capabilities. (Sapien is certainly more aspirational, but wiseness is hardly characteristic of most humans).

I do not mean to imply that fictions are a bad thing. In fact, they can be a very good thing, especially since we crave stories, share via stories and remember and learn most important things with stories. If you’ve ever heard two people tell their version of the same event, you know that while both are fictions of some sort, they are also both very true in another. I perhaps should clarify that by fiction I do not mean “not at all true,” which I fear has become a pseudo definition these days. I mean something more like great literature or film—not specifically true in various details but capital-T true in terms of essence and representation.

But we have to be careful with this too. Sometimes we make stories that are molto fictitious and incorrecto too—blasphemies of actual events. But even these stories can serve a purpose—they soothe our weary minds and allow us to reconstruct or edit particular situations and relabel the stresses of life—risk, chance, randomness, caprice—into stories with intention and meaning and heroes and villains. It’s often easier this way. We don’t like having to stare in the face of unknowingness all the time. It’s more palatable to ascribe intention and purpose to things and events afterwards, even when there is none.

But do strongly resist the urge to explain what you are doing beforehand or as you are doing it. Some things do not have “explanations.” They just are. Love is one of these I think. Or perhaps the taste of an ungarresi or saccottino at a cafe in Rome. It is squisito (or delizioso?)—delicious—yes, but why? I do not know for sure. But I know this—the longer I consider it, the more magic I take away. And what is left is not what is real behind the magic. It was not shrouded or hidden. It was magic through and through. But the more we try and deconstruct it, the less remains. We kill to understand someone once said. But that was too generous an interpretation. We kill and hope to understand. We take apart and hope to understand…some of it. But what is left after the killing is not the same as before. We may possibly understand what is left, but not what has been lost in the process.

Let me try another way. Everything worth doing is worth at least a second try. If we get a scientist to analyze the ungarresi, she might say it is butter and flour and sugar and perhaps an egg or two. And she might also say that the reason (!) I find it squisito is that the sugar and carbohydrates cause a release of something here, something there—questo quello—and that is actually why I am finding it so pleasing. It is simply science she might say.

But is it? Does its beautiful shape not please me too? And the lovely sprinkles of powdered sugar like a freshly fallen snow? What about the fact that I’m in Rome—a place I’m falling in love with—writing at my favorite cafe? Nothing? What if the whole scene is pleasing in a Proustian kind of way—a remembrance of things past, like a trip to a very lovely bakery with my mom in Salzburg so many years ago? And what about the sounds? Surely we cannot ignore the clink and clank of the Cantiani’s crew, a noise that is so oddly comforting to me, or the metal chairs scraping across the stone storefront as customers shuffle in their seats, or the scooters and cars whizzing by with a beep-beep here and there—nice little “ciao!” kinds of honks. Might this be part of the whole too?

I can go on and on as most people know. I think it is clear that our scientist friend with her PhD can only analyze what she knows, which is molto limited at best, not because she is so impaired, but because it is all so vast. l I think Jerome Bruner said it best in his book “On Knowing”—“Physics is mathematical not because we know so much about the physical world, but because we know so little.” I wonder if we fully realize how often this happens to us throughout our lives. We ask a question, and that question will yield an answer, but like some kind of imposter, it is only an answer to a much smaller part of our question and not the entirety of what we intended. It is molto piccolo because we know molto piccolo too.

Perhaps they really are magical, these delicious moments. Perhaps we should not peek too much. Not only because there is nothing—or little—to be gained, but also because there is so much to be lost too. The wonder. The feeling. The sense that something amazing happened to us in those moments. Amazing things are precious and easily scared away by too much inquiry. They are like little magicians dancing around us. The less you stare, the less you demand, the more they revel. And reveal. Molto bene. Molto, molto bene.

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papirouge · 9 months

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Hey papi, i'm the anon who sent you the message about becoming a youtuber. I've been thinking a lot about your answer, and honestly I don't know if I'm up to the the many facets of what that entails.

Like you said, gaming is well known to be full of scrotes and weirdos, and unfortunately most female youtubers and streamers have to use their sex appeal to get attention and views, and that's not something i'm willing to do (i wouldn't even want to show my face in the first place). You did mention that I should find a niche, and for me that would have been either retro gaming or games geared towards girls. In fact, I grew up with a lot of those barbie computer games, so I could actually mix both retro gaming and games for girls.

Another thing I thought about was making more "complex" videos. Like I have an interest in lost media, and there's not that many good content about it in my mother language, so I think I could definitely make myself a name in that genre. And that brings me to another point - I've watched a lot of lost media videos, amd also read the wiki of some pages that interest me many times, and I've noticed that many videos are basically just wikipedia reads with no attempt of the creator to actually explain things in his own style. And some of them are quite popular and capitalize of other people words and work via sponsors or ad revenue!! It kinda makes me mad in a way to see some youtubers put a lot of effort in their videos and get very few views while lazier ones that i dont think even care about the subject matter (if they did i doubt they'll just be copy pasting their scripts) being praised and get money off of their wikipedia reads.

Another thing that I realized it's that if I choose to make videos about lost media or other things similar to that, I'd probably get so annoyed at the ignorant comments that people might make when it comes to real life cases that i'd have to hold myself back to avoid responding. Like I remember once listening to this video about the Natasha Kampusch case, and the narrator mentioned how the guy who kidnapped her actually didn't force her (right away) to have sex with him, and to come to him when she was ready. I decided to go to the comments (big mistake) and there were a few comments highlighting this and talking about how sweet and thoughtful it was of the guy to not pressure Natasha, and how she might have wanted to have sex with him when that happened. Like do these idiots realize that she was KIDNAPPED, aka being held hostage for years since she was only ten years old with no probability of this guy ever letting her go? I really hope these commenters were very young and misguided and learnt later to think more critically.

In a similar way, I also once watched a video about Elliot Rodger (back when I've nver heard of his case before) and the comments were full with men being like "Not saying what he did was bad but I can understand him feeling frustrated and mad at being rejected by women because I feel the same". Wow, isn't that sad? How about you empathise with all the people he killed and their relatives, have you thought abouot that? Prety much any video talking about the bjork stalker has the same kind of men in the comments. Not papi, I don't think I could stand getting stupid comments like that on my videos, but then perhaps true crime rots your brain or something...

Hi anon! Nice to see you back 🩶

"And some of them are quite popular and capitalize of other people words and work via sponsors or ad revenue!! It kinda makes me mad in a way to see some youtubers put a lot of effort in their videos and get very few views while lazier ones that i dont think even care about the subject matter (if they did i doubt they'll just be copy pasting their scripts) being praised and get money off of their wikipedia reads."

Welcome to the commentary YouTube community 😅 that's why I told you in my first reply to do something you truly enjoyed and not start off to get instantly get popular or get ad revenue because you'll be quickly discouraged by the lack of engagement of your video. If you like what you do, you'll still be happy despite get only a dozen of views. Your dedication has to go beyond external validation or gratification.

YouTube is just too big now. I remember the scandal when tea channel have been exposed as being content farm (basically content creator 'industry plants' - Spill, Anna Oop, etc.) and other tea/commentary channel called them out being like "they're lying to you!!!" when these channels never pretended being only one independent creator 💀. I personally wasn't really surprised because it's been a while that YouTube has become an entire industry so yeah, content creation agencies jumping on the bandwagon was bound to happen¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

That's why you really shouldn't compare yourself with bigger yet lazier channels because who knows if they don't have a whole marketing machine backing them up (for example posting a lot, it asks a whole editing team etc.). That's why I also told to have a delivery that can't be imitated. Even if they copy what you say (let's get real, YouTuber copy each other all the time and that's ok, that's the whole concept of trends) they will never do it like you. That's why despite commentary channels being so popular, some channels are more unique than others.

For example I tried looking for other channels like Chrissie but not a single one manages to make it like she does : Chrissie is just so articulated, CLEVER and resourceful in her takes, that no other Black feminity/dating channel never really did it for me... (either they only talk about Black men, talk like they were drunk à la Cynthia G 💀 aren't smart, or are intellectually inconsistent (wig wearer talking about embracing our Black feminity ANNOY ME like sis embrace your own hair before giving advice about self love IDC)

Let's get real anon: there's already a woman doing what your doing - but the good news is : nobody will be you. I love vlogs but tbh those female influencer pretty much do the same thing, but the way they do it is what makes me stick. Unfortunately it's hard to explain but I think that's the x factor that makes even very small channel have a very loyal audience. I told you about the FNAF commentary french guy who had a 30k followers channel with a dedicated watchbase (his chat are always very active and his discord channel is booming). I also follow a Dark Deception playthrough japanese channel with "only" 35k followers, and guess what? He's been invited by the Dark Deception developpement team at the Tokyo game show in September to test their new chapter of the game. Size or popularity doesn't matter - how you do it does (the japanese guy doesn't even update that much...)

Now for the toxic audience/commenters, it's actually very easy to moderate comments on YouTube. You can also block certain words so comments having them to not appear. You can also pin a PSA on the comment section to warn off rape apoloigists, and stuff like that. The only reason those guys you're talking about talk like that is because they feel comfortable enough to do that in *this* space. I'm a firm believer that you are what you attract. I'm on TikTok and I don't see the awful shit people are constantly seething about. Bc I swap up whenever I see suspicious/weird/kinky shit so the algorithm stops making these messy stunts. I also don't follow influencers or gimmicky accounts.. True Crime channels are bound to attract psychopaths anyway. There's something so pornographic in women doing their make up while explaining gruesome murder....

#answered

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nebris · 2 years

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Failure to Cope "Under Capitalism"

The inability to do basic tasks is not always a political problem

We have generational trauma. We are living through a global pandemic. We are literally neurodivergent and a minor. We are riddled with climate grief. We are, for one reason or another, unable to cope.

I can respect an inability to cope. A nervous breakdown once in a while does wonders for your overall perspective, and there are several arenas in which I function well below your average well-adjusted teenager: I’ve never been able to leave a party at a reasonable hour, get a driver’s license, keep a phone, or sit still long enough to climb the corporate ladder. The inability to cope in one domain or another is part of being human, and attempts to eliminate it are for people who enjoy living in San Francisco.

But there is a strain of discourse that insists an inability to cope in one’s day-to-day life is in almost all cases a political problem, or even the primary political problem. By volume, the most examples are on social media. Sometimes it’s an elaborate hypothetical in which asking a disabled person to make alternate arrangements and forgo ordering Instacart groceries for one day of a strike is tantamount to a genocidal program. Sometimes it’s a prompt tweet inviting you into a post-revolutionary fantasy world where, instead of collecting municipal garbage, you will be “doing art.” In the right-wing version, it’s a yearning for the bronze age civilization in which you would have been a feared warrior king rather than a software engineer answering to female product managers. Somehow, being born into a historical moment when moderate clerical abilities can lead to impressive status and resource acquisition is still to be crippled by fate, NPCs, or Soros agents.

What binds these pleas together is an application of “the personal is political” so expanded in scope that, for a certain kind of person, personal problems, anxieties, and dissatisfactions are illegible or illegitimate unless described as political problems. This can be a compromise with a guilty, self-punishing instinct of the self-consciously privileged, especially if the political problem in question is borne on behalf of another. For the would-be steppe warlord, it posits an artificially withheld world in which, naturally and without friction, you would be every bit the man you long to be. In either case, the complete identification of human foible with structural failure excuses you from identifying and dealing with personal problems as such. Especially when it turns out the real culprit is capitalism.

Capitalism is the reason we sometimes tie our identities to material status objects. Capitalism is the reason we want to be paid for writing. It is capitalism that makes you feel bad that you didn’t learn to bake sourdough during quarantine.

“‘Why aren’t I working more quickly, doing more?’ thinks the capitalist part of my brain,” writes Huffington Post author Monica Torres.

Capitalism, in this rhetorical strain, is not so much the object of analysis or a concrete historical phenomenon as an all-purpose gesture. “Capitalism” is useful everywhere: as the punchline of self-deprecating jokes about the way we live now, as a perennial-but-distant bogeyman that explains chronic frustrations without ever causing enough pain to force serious disruption. Most importantly, its invocation immediately establishes a phenomenon in the realm of the political, without any further work required.

Perhaps the foremost chronicler of failure to cope under capitalism is Anne Helen Petersen, who leveraged the massive success of her 2019 BuzzFeed essay on millennial burnout into a book on the same topic, and now writes a Substack exploring the various indignities of modern life. Over this period, Petersen has conjured up a somewhat frightening vision of the average millennial: paralyzed, exhausted, unbearably burdened by the stress of maintaining relationships and living life. A 2019 piece suggested that the benefit of a cooking startup is that its boomer coaches are available to guide you through the process of buying and cooking your own food. Petersen writes “It’s not unlike having a mom-like figure on call to text you tips, only without the baggage of actually texting your mom.” This assistance is required because of burnout, which, in Petersen’s view, is a cross-class generational phenomenon imposed by a variety of social conditions. We all have it. And more recently, Petersen has turned her attention to the various ways we are all exhausted. A recent newsletter entry describes the experience of hair loss, which Petersen attributes to pandemic stress.

“We compartmentalized the stress and ongoing trauma, flattening it into something survivable, but we nonetheless ate it for breakfast, and lunch, and dinner. We swam in that stress. We slept in it. We swallowed it in gulps. We lived through it, and we told ourselves stories of resilience, because what other choice did we have.

But the body is bad at pretending. It keeps the damn score.”

Most writing about burnout (and there has been plenty of it in the wake of Petersen’s original BuzzFeed essay) tends to lean heavily on “we”; it accords with the contention that burnout is a universal ailment. But who is the “we” of pandemic stress? The line cook who watched his co-workers die? The children forced to adjust to the misery of zoom school? The laid-off bartender? Or the information economy worker with a yard, no dependents, and disposable income to spend on delivery? Did all these people really experience “trauma?” in a recognizably similar way?

There are of course no incremental units of suffering doled out inversely by income, no guarantees that comfort will protect you from the profound ravages of life. But the failure to cope mode of culture writing avoids the personalization of pain. The claim is not “I am stricken because I had to bury my father or recover from a long illness or lose my job or confront my relationship with alcohol or bid farewell to a lover.” Despite formulaic acknowledgements that of course others have it worse, the basic claim remains the same: “The persistent low grade dysfunction I am experiencing is a social problem.”

This requires sleight of hand. To project an experience outward onto the collective, a writer must first draw the concrete sufferings of others inward, subsuming them into a continuum of what “we” experience.

A Vox article about election night self care warns:

“The cumulative stress and trauma most Americans have experienced this past year is still weighing heavy on pretty much everyone. It’s wishful thinking to believe that those anxiety levels will be collectively reduced once the election is over.”

One Boston-based writer of queer fiction describes how his pandemic cluster took between a day and a week of vacation to recover from the experience of watching the tallies mount up. “I remember last election, the day after was such an overwhelming emotional experience that I couldn’t imagine doing that all over again, so I took the day off.” Here, finding televised electoral politics a grueling ordeal that requires recovery time indicates, not an anxiety disorder, but a functioning civic conscience.

I believe there are people sporting gray hairs with worry solely over the fate of the republic. I can imagine a tortured citizen-statesman lifted from a Ciceronian oration crossed with A Tale of Two Cities. But I do not believe this is a particularly common problem.

Nor do I believe, as Petersen often posits, that personal underperformance is not only the result of oppressive social relations, but a potential form of resistance to them.

In an essay on “revenge bedtime procrastination,” she writes that the habit of routinely delaying needed sleep with unsatisfactory activities such as social media scrolling can be understood as a form of rebellion against the demands of employers. She even sees possible glimmers of a revolution. “Poke it a few more times, give it a bit more language to understand itself, and it might, might begin to understand itself as an early, bewildered, form of a movement.”

Petersen is not wrong that anti-human economies tend to make for bad living on the individual scale. The question is whether, if important causality occurs on the macro level, you have any capability or responsibility for dealing with it at the micro.

Failure to cope says no — if only political problems are legitimate, only political solutions are admissible. This has the odd effect of filtering all attempts at self-integration through a political lens. Hence the proliferation of articles explaining why brushing your teeth in the morning is a radical act. Even basic self-soothing behavior seems to count — hence Petersen’s otherwise inexplicably naïve belief that staying up too late scrolling on your phone might someday become a movement.

It may be the case that many personal infirmities can only be fully repaired in a repaired world, but this does not obviate the need to pull ourselves together as best we can in this broken one. Any serious attempt to topple capitalism would require more discipline, more courage, more endurance, more capability, not less.

When living “under capitalism” becomes a catch-all explanation for what you can’t manage — whether that’s getting on the metaphorical treadmill or stepping off it — it assumes the nature of a complaint to an adjudicating authority. Since capitalism has impressed such impossible conditions on us, we can’t reasonably be expected to deal with it until they improve. But in fact there is no one to adjudicate between you and capital, no one to say yes, that really is too much, let’s reassign this project. There is no political program that will release you from the necessity of doing more than you should have to or feel capable of doing, in politics as in every other part of life.

If you think seriously about the good life and pursue it, you will probably fail in ways large and small.

And of course, there are more sinister possibilities than learned helplessness. Since under capitalism no one is really responsible for their actions, since we’d all be making better choices if the referees would just level the playing field, you can’t be blamed if you build weapons for Raytheon or AI for Facebook or write vacuous propaganda for the Washington Post, or climb to the top by betraying others . You’re not cravenly protecting your own interests at the expense of principle, you’re just participating in society somewhat. The totalizing nature of capital’s domination simultaneously excuses us both from revolutionary action and from an attempt at a life with honor within it.

And yet in the end I am guilty of the same sins as everyone else. Having laid out at length the political problems with delegating the responsibility for coping with your own life to a political program, I must confess that my primary concern is personal, not political. I do not hate the knowledge workers at whom this type of essay is directed (I am one of them). I believe that large swathes of them are experiencing anxious alienation from their own lives. I agree that super-individual forces are significantly involved. But I also think there is something debilitating about hearing and internalizing the message that the paralysis and malaise that seems to afflict so many is wholly externally imposed, that constrained choices are not real choices, that sending emails 16 hours a day is something only collapse of capitalism can mend.

Petersen’s most acute insight is perhaps in identifying a link between relentlessly optimized childhoods designed to prevent downward mobility, and the professionally competent but profoundly enervated millennials overwhelmed by the prospect of canceling plans, of keeping plans, of cooking food, of texting their mothers. I think she is correct. I think it’s possible that for many, considering the shape of your life and then living it with vigor is so difficult because it cannot be externally validated. Unlike education and work, it offers no socially obvious meritocratic path. The moments where, like sourdough, it proves, are largely invisible — in cooking, in walking, corresponding with a friend, in chatting with a neighbor or registering to give blood. They cannot be tallied up and put on a resume. They are never “finished.” The progress you make is spiraling rather than linear; circling steadily, slowly, around your weak points, taking two steps forward and one step back, building habits so slowly that only in retrospect can you see your life become different than it was. And there is no one who can tell you that you did it right. But this is not the condition of life under capitalism, this is life itself. And it is a sad irony that though the fear of life may be produced by class imperatives within capitalism, the impulse to restrict it to a problem of capitalism is itself part of the same fearful rejection of the task of living.

There is good news. None of us are children anymore. You can and should organize for better working conditions, but you can also turn off your email notifications. You can choose to prioritize the good life over a promotion or pleasing your boss. You can live with the loss of status and resources that this probably will entail. You can leave your job and take on the risks of finding work that does not corrode your self-respect. You can bring new life into the world knowing they will face intolerable danger and suffering, and take a type of comfort in the fact that on an individual level, this has always been the case. You can raise children in a too-small space and with too much debt.

Or you can not. You can devote yourself single-mindedly to a career and enjoy the struggle to the top. You can decide that to ride the ebb and swell of New York’s changing moods is worth whatever price you pay. You can pledge your life to your craft or the cause of Monarch butterflies. You can turn down invitations to weddings and let friendships lapse, you can go to bars every night and smoke a pack of cigarettes a day. But whatever you do, don’t kid yourself that you’re doing it because you have no choices.

If you think seriously about the good life and pursue it, you will probably fail in ways large and small. But an imperfect struggle to live well and love a world badly in need of repair is better than staying still because things are terrible, because you might look like a loser in the meritocratic game, because it’s easier.

This is your life. You do not have time to wait for the revolution to begin living it. You will always be able to find someone to give you permission not to live it. But no one is coming along to live it for you.

Clare Coffey currently resides in Idaho.

https://www.gawker.com/culture/failure-to-cope-under-capitalism

#capitalism #our doomed future

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arsquare · 2 years

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please what is that kaishin marxist meme manga ("they mean nothing... if you aren't redistributing the wealth") originally from i cannot find it anywhere. also its too funny and i love ur art and memes

Hi! The reason you can't find it anywhere is because it's directly sourced from my silly little brain. It's not even an edit of a Kaishin doujin or anything; it was born directly looking like that. I just thought it would be funny if it LOOKED like an edit of a Kaishin doujin but like... I would have felt bad editing something someone else worked hard on drawing lol. So I just made it from scratch by myself. Is it perhaps a deranged level of commitment to the bit? Yeah, probably <3

Here's the post for anyone who doesn't know what I'm talking about

Anyways here are some images of the work in progress as proof. I'm sorry the rest of this fake doujin doesn't exist bestie

here are some of my favorite bits of text work on that meme. see what I SHOULD have done is put some placeholder text and then edit it out in MS Paint like a real one, but for some reason I just did it all in Clip Studio Paint. whatever

So firstly. my watermark is also in the top left, I completely forgot I watermarked it but just in case anyone came for me like "OP why don't you credit the original artist :///" I can point to that and say "Hi I am the original artist actually lol" Anyways it's a well known fact that you can't rotate text in MS Paint so I thought it would be really funny if "You've" is rotated but "only acheived [sic] false consciousness!!" isn't. Also the slight misspelling of "achieved" sends me every time

this is also hilarious to me. the little "r" floating next to the "You" CLEARLY unaligned. The random capitalized "B" in "Bourgeoisie" (AND THE FACT THAT BOURGEOISIE IS SPELLED CORRECTLY AND ACHIEVED ISN'T) since they're capitalists. keeping the "they mean nothing. They mean nothing!" from the fake original context.

and finally. the white scribbles above the tone marking out the old text. the use of bold for "redistributing the wealth..."

idk I would not call this my magnum opus or anything, if you want to read actual genuine honest-to-god Kaishin content by me, there's a 98-page doujin called Breaking Stasis on Ao3 about Kaito and Shinichi getting stuck in a time loop here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35883097/chapters/89472589

Is the art lower quality than what you see in my shitpost marxist doujin? Yeah, but I also whipped it up in 2 months for the Kaishin secret santa as another ridiculous "commitment to the bit" moment so I think that's excusable. Now that I've got more time on my hands, I'm actually editing Breaking Stasis to actually have screentones and better backgrounds and less fucked up faces <3. I'm about a fifth of the way through LMAO. Which is not a lot, but granted, I had to draw a high quality 24-page original oneshot in the meantime so I'm going easy on myself. That is going to be posted in July, after the competition results are out, I hope everyone looks forward to it!

#asks #anon #FINALYLYYYY MY DERANGED COMMITMENT TO THE BIT IS PAYING OFF LMAOOOOO

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cherriesink · 3 years

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Takeuchi - Murmurs

Murmurs are snippets of character reflection earned by increasing Explore Points during Exploration. They usually include 6-7 monologues about other characters and 3-4 monologues about things important to the specific character.

These lines are taken straight from the English translation of the game, so fair warning of bad grammar.

About Yatsufusa “According to my statistics, older vampires tend to rank above C-Class... Presumably, D-Class and under end up dying.

But it’s a shame with Yatsufusa. Because he is a C-Class that has all the potentials to fight in a battle. Yet, he cannot demonstrate that in a different way than Kurusu can’t.

It seems he occasionally uses the umbrella I gave him... He’ll end up hurting himself if he carelessly swings a sword since he has never trained for it. And he will break it if he uses it with all his strength. I can’t let a civilian hold a sword anyway. So, an umbrella was the best solution.

...Oh! I have an exciting idea that improves his umbrella. Haha, this will help him even if he’s not a good fighter...”

About Kurusu “Kurusu is very intriguing. He is the strongest vampire in Japan! How is he different from other vampires?! Unfortunately, current science does not allow me to analyze blood at a micro-level... In that case, I must invent a machine that can. I’d love to improve Kurusu’s abilities from an A-Class to S-Class and above through my inventions.

If Colonel Maeda who is a human can defeat unranked vampires, then that means dynamic visions can be improved through training. This then leads me to the question- do I use a drug or machinery to improve his speed and muscle strength...

But Kurusu must improve his speed of judgement more than anything. That, I cannot help him no matter how great I am. It probably comes from his kindness. But, oh well. I’ll let Colonel Maeda deal with that.”

About Maeda “Colonel Maeda is certainly an intelligent person. A true rationalist and finds the best course of action in an instant- because how else can someone decide to amputate their right arm after being bitten by a vampire before the poison enters their system? The surgery went well because he was in luck with a series of events. His wound was a clean-cut, he was able to stop the bleeding, and the fact that Code Zero has plenty of blood supplies for us vampires...

I’d say he was still lucky to survive despite having an aftereffect due to hemorrhage of the heart. I must say he is an astounding human being since his combat skills are still the same where he is capable of beating vampires to death with his prosthetic arm.

Ah- that reminds me that he asked me to fix his arm. What next functions should I add next?”

About Yamagami “Yamagami is the best to experiment on. I wonder what will happen... if I can make him strong enough so he can fight with my inventions? Alas, the greatest assassin will be born! We vampires cannot detect ones that rank below us- they appear like an ordinary person to us.

Yamagami on the other hand is capable of detecting every vampire out there since he is unranked. Which makes him the best candidate to become an assassin sneaking up on vampires from behind! I must conduct every experiment on Yamagami then! It will become a revolution for us vampires if the experiment succeeds.

However, there is just one problem... Yamagami’s personality is not ideal to become an assassin...”

About Suwa “We did not have any vampires that specialized in combat at the time when Code Zero was established. That is why we induced Suwa into our team. I knew the moment I heard the rumor about a vampires that hunts other vampires that he will join our unit.

One of the reasons was that I heard he was alive even before the Edo period... He must be clever if he managed to survive hundreds of years since it is not easy for vampires to survive such a long period.

Secondly, we carry the same goal if he enjoys hunting vampires, whatever his reasons may be. Back then, vampires in the Imperial Capital shivered when hearing “Vampire Hunter.” It’s very promising if that “Vampire Hunter” joins Code Zero.

His body was of a child’s, so his arms were too short for Japanese swords. That is why I made him two daggers.”

About Defrott “I wonder if Defrott will allow me to study his blood... We don’t have any blood samples of S-Class vampires nor any data yet. But he’s not the type that goes with “Please” and “Thank you.” After all, I do not want to die either.

...All I want is to conduct my research peacefully. No need to panic or rush. It’ll become available someday. I can get close to the birth of vampires- if I can learn about S-Class vampires. When, why, and how did we derive...? The only thing we know is that the oldest vampires on the recond spoke ancient Greek... Were they the first? Or did vampires exist long before that, but the records got lost...

It is a mystery how humanity began, but it is even a bigger mystery how vampires started. Was it a strain that occurred during the evolution process. Or mutation... Some call it evil or the devil’s doing. However, I do not believe in unscientific things.”

About Tenman-ya “Come to think of it, our relationship with Tenman-ya has been going on for quite a long time. Considering Colonel Maeda’s personality, there is no way he will miss a vampire’s nest like them...

But perhaps they’re untouched because of the amount of information they’ve accumulated about vampires since the Edo period and the fact that they’ve been confining vampires that are in the Imperial Capital.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s a give-and-take relationship since they refer me to wholesales to sell my drugs I invented. The vampires referred through Tenman-ya are all clean and diligent. Some practice Western medicine like me so it helps.

It appears vampires fight all year round when just looking at Code Zero, but the one that avoid battle are the ones that live long. Tenman-ya supports those vampires.”

About the Experiments “There are three ways to kill a vampire. One, have them fight a vampire that outdo them. Very primitive method. Two, make them powerless through science. What we are currently doing. Three, obtain strength that overthrows higher rank vampires through science. This- is our homework.

Creating heavy firearms is easy, but we are dealing with swift subjects... Even unranked vampires may be described as “...at lightning speed” to an ordinary person.

Thus, I am working on a drug that improves our physical ability... I mixed some into Yamagami’s food the other day, and the results were quite surprising. It was as if he got drunk. I thought I developed a drug that makes the world seem slow, but Yamagami said “The world is spinning! You blockhead!”

My work is trial and error. Well, I do have plenty of time.”

About the Past “I never would’ve imagined that I would end up being a serviceman when I was just an ordinary human being working at a pharmaceutical company. It all happened when the military authorities asked me to research a certain blood sample. I accidentally exposed it to sunlight without knowing that it was vampire blood. The flask exploded from the boiling blood...

Luckily, I did not die from the poison and gained a brain that never degenerates. It was pure coincidence, but I was lucky indeed. I can come close to the secrets of this world with an eternally young brain.

I don’t mind not being able to walk under the sun. I was in the lab day and night in the first place. Not feeling time or seasonal changes aren’t important to me. I don’t care much about food either.

Research is my life! I am the happiest vampire on Earth!”

About the Side Job “Code Zero hardly has any budget for R&D... But we aren’t a special unit that simply gathers vampires for combat. Weak, domestic ones can benefit from my drugs and put up a decent fight with the ones ranking above them. I believe- that is the purpose of our unit.

Colonel Maeda couldn’t care less about the name of the unit. So I named it “Zero”- implying “Starting everything from zero.”

Either way, you need money to experiment. That is why I sell my inventions beneficial to humans to department stores and medical institutions made in the process of my vampire studies. The profit I make all goes to my research. Every purchase helps us foster future vampires.”

#mars red #takeuchi

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