#and for once I don't want anything of mine being stolen and claimed as someone else's work | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crow-stars · 1 year

Note

Hiyaa! I read your Ace and Deuce fics and i find them so adorable! Especially Ace's like sulky Ace bc his plan fell through just adorable. Your writing too is absolutely stunning and expressive keep up the good work!!

Also I dont know if you do requests like this but if its allowed can I request the first years dealing with the aftermath of the prefect going back home like them coming in terms with the fact that they may or may not never see the prefect despite all the things they went through, i just imagine Adeuce and Grim would deal with it the hardest

hello there dear little reader~ i'm so glad you enjoyed those stories, i'm quite fond of those two troublemakers. and i accept requests like that, yes, but you always have to make sure to read the rules and, if you're not sure on anything, always ask me dear reader.

now then... let's see what we have here;

the first year characters from the stories of twisted wonderland. and the aftermath of the prefect going back home, how sad they must feel! oh, the story this will create will be wonderful! now let's see how this book turned out...

❝IF ONLY YOU HAD STAYED❞

❦summary; good things don't last forever, people don't stay the same, places change, and you can't expect everyone to stay

♪the characters in this story; ace trappola, deuce spade, jack howl, epel felmier, sebek zigvolt, grim, prefect!reader

✎word count;

❀what do the ghosts say?; reader is referred to a few times, but not solely focused on reader, format of headcanons + mini written section, angst, crying, depictions of grieving, platonic or romantic relationship (can be viewed as either), grim is also incorporated a bit in every section

☛the author's notes; i love writing sadness. it's a specialty of mine. it's also a bit of a personal headcanon of mine that the first years take care of grim once the prefect/player leaves twisted wonderland. also man, i just realised i'm talking like you died or smth. huh

☪look at the catalogue?

❛ACE TRAPPOLA❜

✧ Ace didn’t take it well

✧ He knew that it would happen eventually, they all did. But he didn’t expect it to come so soon

✧ When you had gathered everyone at Ramshackle, he didn’t assume anything was wrong. When you had told all of them, time seemed to freeze

✧ You.. you were leaving? Going back to your own world?

✧ No, that surely wasn’t true! You were probably just messing with them all! But you weren’t, oh no, you weren’t

✧ Ace was... he felt devastated. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, no, but he felt like something important was being stolen away from him. Something important to him was getting taken away and he couldn’t do anything about it.

✧ Ace was silent during the sendoff, what could he say? When it was his turn for a goodbye, the only thing he did was hug you tightly and wished you to be safe, to not get into any stupid trouble. And then you were gone. You stepped through the mirror and it swallowed your body

✧ Ace missed you, life at NRC didn’t feel the same after you. Nothing did for a while.

✧ To everyone else, Ace just seemed to dismiss your leaving, sweep it under the rug and go back to being the mischievous person others knew. The rest of the group knew different.

✧ Every so often, Deuce would find Ace sitting in the dark of their dorm, staring silently at his phone. Old pictures of you all. Sometimes he would find Ace crying, silently, shoulders shaking with every sob

✧ Ace would claim sometimes that you’d come back, come to visit. Truly, he believed that you would come back one day. But he had to come to terms with it in his junior year.

✧ Even years later, Ace refuses to talk about you to anyone that isn’t the others of the group. It hurts to talk about someone that never really existed in his world. He feels he should talk about you to the others and only the others.

❦

A hand dragged down Ace’s face as he slumped in the chair in his living room. It was late, too late and he just wanted to knock out on this chair.

“Oi! Ace, you’re late! Where’s my tuna?”

Ace shook his head and huff, but there was still a faint smile on his lips as Grim hopped onto his lap, tugging at his disheveled suit. He pushed the cat monster off his lap and stood, laughing when Grim yelped in surprise.

“At least give me some time to rest, you weasel.”

Ignoring Grim’s agitated rambling, Ace walked to the kitchen and opened the cabinet where he kept Grim’s much desired food, placing it on the counter so that Grim could snatch it up. The cat cheered, ripping into the canned fish as Ace watched silently.

But, unexpectedly, Grim paused. He looked up to Ace, beady sapphire eyes swirling a bit with some nostalgia. He didn’t say anything for a bit, which was uncharacteristic of him. It was silent for a few beats, Grim gripping his still open tuna can tightly in those paws of his. Ace purses his lips a bit, waiting for Grim to say something before deciding to break the silence.

“Hey, don’t hurt yourself thinking, weasel. Spit it out!”

This got a response immediately, as expected, and Grim hissed at Ace. “Shut up!” There was a little pout on the cat’s face and Ace found it amusing. Grim’s ears pressed against his head, the flames that fluttered from his body dimming a bit and Ace knew what he was thinking.

“Are you thinking about them?”

The ears perked up and Ace knew he was right on the spot. Grim only nodded, ears flattening against his head again. Ace sighed heavily, placing a hand on Grim’s head. He gave the cat a few scratches behind his ear and heaved another sigh.

“Just eat your tuna and we’ll go to sleep soon. Deuce is coming to get you tomorrow.”

Grim nodded and began digging into the tuna, flames brightening a bit. The sight made Ace smile, despite the heavy sadness that set in his chest.

❛DEUCE SPADE❜

✧ Deuce was one of the few that took it better. Don’t get him wrong, he despaired when you told them that you were returning to your world. But he understood. Or at least he said he understood

✧ Oh, how he wanted to be selfish, he wanted to beg you to stay, you were important to him, close to him. But he also couldn’t imagine the pain of being away from family, people who cared for you as much as he and everyone else at NRC did.

✧ So he was only silent, he only smiled as you left, wished you the best as you readied to go through the mirror

✧ Deuce cried that night, surrounded by the other first years

✧ He felt so unmotivated for months afterward, not wanting to do anything, even in track and field he was lagging behind

✧ But he eventually had to come to terms, realize that he wasn’t the only one grieving.

✧ Oh, when he first found Ace in the dark of their room, furiously wiping at the tears that rushed down his cheeks, Deuce felt so bad. That was when he finally realized that he wasn’t alone in his grief

✧ He cried with Ace that night and the next morning, while they didn’t speak much of it, they shared a silent understanding.

✧ From then on, Deuce made sure to periodically check on the others. If they were okay, how they were faring.

❦

✧ Even if you had left, Deuce was determined to not let the group fall apart. He couldn’t bear the thought of it.

✧ Even in the present, he’s one of main reasons that all the (former) first years still talk with one another.

Deuce could hear his phone buzzing, subtly moving across the counter as he cooked some food for him and his companion.

“Grim, could you check the chat for me please?”

The cat perked his head up from his napping spot, eyes lazily roving over to the device. “Myeh? Why don’t you get it yourself?”

Deuce motioned to the cooking omelets on the stove with a pointed look. “How about it’s because I’m cooking your lunch and if you don’t want a burned omelet, then you better pick up the phone.”

Grim glared at Deuce, even hearing a low hiss from the cat monster, before he begrudgingly picked up the phone, with a bit of trouble due to not really having opposable thumbs Deuce couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight for a bit before turning back to his cooking.

“Nyeh, they’re talking about the picnic.”

“Oh shoot, I almost forgot!” Deuce sighed, now remembering the event that was planned three days from now. He looked back at Grim, who was still holding the phone, staring back at Deuce. “What’re they saying?”

Grim looked back down, squinting a bit. “Eeeh... Jack’s asking if he needs ta bring anything.”

Deuce looked back at his cooking, wracking his brain. Ace was going to bring some patties and other meats to grill along with the coals needed, Deuce planned to bring some of the main dishes and some egg dishes, Epel was planning to bring apple pie and a few condiments, and Sebek said he would bring fish dishes. He snapped his fingers, realizing that no one had any plans to bring refreshments.

“Tell Jack to bring some drinks. Sodas, tea, water, that stuff.”

He heard Grim hum, then the recognizable clicking of the phone’s keyboard. Deuce placed the finished omelet on a plate and walked to Grim, placing it beside him with a fork. “Oh, also tell him to bring a snack for you to have when you leave with him.”

“Nyeh?!” The flames in Grim’s ears burned a bit brighter as he looked at Deuce incredulously. “What am I, a baby?”

Deuce didn’t answer and was swiftly met with Grim attempting to claw at his arm. He laughed and was quick to move out of the way. He still heard Grim typing anyway.

❛JACK HOWL❜

✧ Jack got it. He knew it would happen eventually and, now, the time has come

✧ While he wasn’t much for crying, he was much quieter than usual, tail swaying limply when you announced your leaving

✧ He was a bit clingier than usual and did as much as he could for you before you left. Jack felt sad, really he did, but he didn’t cry. If anyone asked on his thoughts, they would think he didn’t care.

✧ Jack did care though, he did. But he also cared for you, and wanted you to be happy. If going back to your original home would make you happy, then so be it.

✧ The hug he gave you before you left was next to bone crushing, but he poured all his care for you through that action

✧ Once you left, he worked harder to become someone you would be proud of

✧ There was a low chance of you ever coming back, but he wants you to not be worried about them while you were back home.

✧ He was also the one to try and gently push the others towards accepted your departure. He just wanted his friends to be able to cope well.

✧ Jack, even years after, still tries to improve. He talks about you casually, making comments about how you would have liked this certain thing, or suggests going to this one place you would have wanted to see.

✧ He talks like you’re still there with them and that’s how he likes to remember you.

❦

His heartbeat rang in his ears as he jogged, the cold air revealing the small puffs of air he exhaled. Jack paused as he reached his doorway, lifting his wrist to check his time. He shaved off a few minutes, not enough to see good results, but it was good for the day.

Opening the door, Jack was met with Grim, who was rummaging through the cabinets for food. The sound of the door opening made the monster turn, grinning that sharp little smile of his.

“Jack! You’re back! Now you can feed me.” Grim laughed that little laugh of his and Jack could only smile.

“Don’t you know where the snacks are?” Despite saying this, Jack trudged over, giving Grim a quick pat on the head as he pulled out the small baggie filled with snacks made specifically for the cat monster.

Grim snatched it up, cackling as he rummaged through the bag and ripping into a snack. Jack, meanwhile, went into the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. He was quick to open it, chugging the cold liquid and letting it cool down his hot body.

Looking to Grim again, citrine eyes studied the sight of Grim, messily chewing on a pack of peanut butter crackers. A thought crossed his mind, wondering if you were eating well, maybe eating your favorite snack. Jack chuckled at the thought and a somber smile spread across his lips.

Grim lifted his head from his mini feast, staring at Jack with a confused stare. “Wha’re you staring at?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Just keep eating. I need to call Epel.”

“Eh?! Is it that time already?”

Jack nodded, walking to where he kept his phone as Grim whined about having to go with Epel the next morning and that he hadn’t packed, despite the fact he never had to in the first place.

❛EPEL FELMIER❜

✧ Oh Seven, what to say about Epel

✧ He cried. He cried a lot much to his chagrin. He didn’t mean to sniffle when you said you’d be going back home, but he did. And he felt so humiliated about it too

✧ In the upcoming days, Epel felt so disconnected. It was like he was there, but also not. He was still hanging out with the rest of you, laughing and smiling, but it all just felt like he was drifting along

✧ The day you were leaving, he was still feeling adrift, the hug Epel gave on the weaker side as his head lolled to lean against you

✧ In the aftermath, Epel had felt like a ghost or maybe undead. Only nodding along to whatever was said by Vil or just doing as he was told. It was a bit disturbing to see, if you asked any of his dorm mates

✧ It was only when Vil confronted Epel about it did he finally break down.

✧ He allowed the tears to flow down his cheeks and he would have felt embarrassed about doing this in front of his housewarden if he wasn’t distracted by the fact that he missed you so much.

✧ For Epel, it was a long process. He didn’t ‘bounce’ back like he wanted to, but it was still a process.

❦

✧ Sometimes, he forgets that you’ve left too. When Epel opens his messages, expecting to see a text from you, he sees nothing. Only a dated message from you so long ago.

✧ It’ll make that pang hit his chest again, but he’s usually fine after a bit.

The sun was beating down on him and Epel huffed as he climbed down the ladder, a basket under his arm and full of apples. He looked to where Grim was supposed to be, sighing softly once seeing that the cat monster was still in his spot.

Grim had his tail curled up by his face, silent as he napped silently under the shade of an apple tree next to another basket. Epel was quick to pull out his phone, snapping a picture of the scene before him and opening up his messaging app. He had to stop himself, though, before he pressed on the contact he was about to click on.

There was a pause, a brief pause as a soft ‘oh right’ slipped past Epel’s lips. His phone fell a bit in his hands and he looked down at the brown earth. He was silent as he sorted through his thoughts, that familiar tight feeling still in his chest.

After a minute or so, Epel sucked in a deep breath, exhaling slowly just as he was taught. “Alright.”

Instead of clicking on the contact he had planned to, he pressed on a separate chat, the one that was much more active than the other. Sharing the picture, Epel pocketed his device and walked over to where Grim was. He sat silently next to him, sighing as he let himself relax. Epel sat with his thoughts as a hand mindlessly ran through Grim’s fur. He sat with all the good thoughts, the bad thoughts, the saddening thoughts. Epel let himself feel it all as he rested.

But once he was finished, that tight feeling in his chest softened to a light prick and Epel sighed. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and picked it up, chuckling at the messages he was getting from the others. After sending his own contribution, Epel leaned his head against the trunk of the tree and closed his eyes.

He was supposed to meet Sebek soon, but a quick nap would do him good.

❛SEBEK ZIGVOLT❜

✧ He didn’t like it. Sebek didn’t like the thought of you leaving at all. While yes, he knew it would come someday, he also refused to acknowledge that it would ever come. But now it has.

✧ Sebek wanted to scowl at you, scream at you, yell and shout his lungs out. How dare you leave! How could you leave, weren’t you happy here with all of them? In Twisted Wonderland? He felt betrayed.

✧ During those last few days, he didn’t want to see you or even speak to you. Maybe if he didn’t see you before you left, he’d feel better about it all. Sebek dedicated himself to being Malleus’ knight more than ever during those days.

✧ Still, he had to confront the fact you were leaving, especially since, when you stood in front of him, arms wide, Sebek didn’t think twice to engulf you in a tight hug and not let go.

✧ But he had to. He had to watch you leave, get swallowed up into the murky green of the Dark Mirror and leave them all behind.

✧ Afterwards, Sebek acted like everything was fine, but he felt so numb. Or maybe he was mad, simmering with anger until it was ready to pop.

✧ He didn’t want to talk about you, refusing to acknowledge the fact that you existed. Sebek avoided his newer friends, Grim, and places he associated with you. It was a bad way to cope, he knows, but it was better than that heavy feeling in his chest, the despair.

✧ It was Malleus who brought him out of this grieving. Well, it was more unknowingly, but with how much the Young Master talked about you, Sebek couldn’t ignore the topic of you anymore.

❦

✧ He got better as time went one, getting more comfortable with talking about you or coming across things that reminded him of you.

✧ Nowadays, he’s still hesitant with the thought of bringing you up, but he won’t deny you existed, that you were a part of his formal years

“Grim! Get off of his Majesty! You were just outside in the garden.” Sebek stormed towards Grim, who was sitting in Malleus’ lap, being stroked by the fae king. He heard Malleus’ deep chuckle and bowed quickly.

“It’s alright Sebek. I do not mind.”

“B-But your majesty!”

Grim cackled lightly, smirking at the distressed knight. “Yeah! He doesn’t mind.”

Sebek felt a deep sigh escape past his lips, but he relented. “Fine... Just be sure to come to my quarters soon so I may bathe you! You can’t be disheveled for tomorrow’s meeting!”

His footsteps echoed throughout the throne room and he left Grim to be pet by Malleus. Sebek made his way to his quarters, walking to the calendar that hung by his bed. Taking a nearby pencil, he crossed out another day on the calendar.

One day closer. It was one day closer until he would have to make the try back to NRC and meet up with the others. He dreaded it, but he looked forward to it.

For once, Grim did as he was told, having eventually made his way back to Sebek’s room as the knight was running the water for Grim’s bath. Though as always, it was a pain getting the cat bathed, as he would whine and yowl about the water, how it was getting in his eyes (it wasn’t) and that he wanted out. It was always a struggle to get him bathed, but Sebek somehow did it.

Grim laid on Sebek’s lap now, dry and his tail swinging from side to side. Sebek was quietly reading and he didn’t dismiss the agitated swish of Grim’s tail.

“Are you nervous?” Sebek’s usually booming voice had softened to fit his tone and Grim only lifted his head a bit, tail pausing.

He mumbled out a meek ‘yes’. Sebek sighed, fingers running through Grim’s fur a few times in an attempt to soothe him.

“We go every year and yet you always get so nervous.” Sebek chuckled. “I am too, Grim.”

The only response Sebek got was a small ‘mrow’ and he knew that Grim had fallen asleep. He smiled softly and shut his book. Tomorrow was a big day.

❛GRIM❜

✧ Grim... oh, poor, poor Grim.

✧ He was one of the worst out of all of them in response to you leaving

✧ He clung to you, refusing to let you leave his side

✧ When you announced you were leaving, Grim couldn’t fathom it. You were his henchman! His servant, the one that’s supposed to stay with him and serve him forever! You were... you were his first friend.

✧ But you were set on going back home. Grim still couldn’t accept it, but could he really stop you?

✧ The day you were leaving, the mirror chamber was filled with soft sniffling or muffled sobs, but Grim was the loudest, yowling and hissing as Jack held onto him.

✧ You said your goodbyes to him first, but no! He didn’t want you to leave!

✧ Once you were gone, Grim was inconsolable. He was uncharacteristically quiet, he wasn’t the boisterous self anymore. No offers of his favorite can of tuna or Ace’s lunch could even get him to talk.

✧ Grim didn’t talk, only going through the motions of school. He didn’t want to move out of Ramshackle, despite the Headmaster’s offer to have him in the care of the first years

✧ He refused to leave the first place he was able to call home. The ghosts of Ramshackle did their best to care for the cat monster, but there was only so much that a spectre could do for the living.

✧ Once the first years graduated, Grim had been able to accept that the possibilities of you coming back were slim. He was reluctant to leave Ramshackle, but he did.

✧ Over the years, slowly but surely, he was able to adjust to life without you. Yes, it hurt him a lot sometimes and whoever was currently taking care of Grim would hear soft whines during the night, but he got better.

❦

“Grim! Wait up!”

He couldn’t wait for them though, excitement was running through his body and electricity was spiking through his skin. Grim was getting to go home, his first home.

While it wasn’t truly complete, it never was without you, it was still his home. It was the closest thing he had to being near you. Grim’s little feet tipped and tapped as he waited for Ace to open the door to Ramshackle, nerves wracking his body so much that Jack had to pick the cat monster up to keep Grim still.

When the door was finally opened, Grim scrambled to get out of Jack’s grasp, sprinting into the old home and up the stairs. He could hear the others setting their things down on the old couches, but Grim could care less.

He scrambled to get the door open and was thankful when one of the ghosts appeared, greeting Grim before opening the door for him. Grim rushed into the room, hopping onto the only bed that was in the room.

There was a layer of dust on the sheets and Grim could see a few dust specks fly about after he had jumped onto the mattress, but it smelled like you still. He doesn’t know how but he could care.

The curtains were open and shining warm summer light on Grim as he curled up on your old bed, comfort curling around him as he closed his eyes. He imagined the warmth was you holding him close, petting and cooing at him as you used to do before.

It wasn’t you and Grim knew this. But right now, curled up and surrounded by something that he knew as you, for the few hours he was here, Grim could imagine that you were still here.

184 notes · View notes

delusion-of-negation · 2 years

Note

Alright well as a Christian I'm supposed to forgive you but it's NOT gonna be easy. You, that pervert guy and that pedo tranny Dasha are EVERYTHING wrong with the world right now. It's YOUR FAULT our society has no morals. Congradufuckinglations you've made a girl with anxiety depression and BPD cry :)

forgive me for what, exactly? what did I specifically, only me, do?

because I don't remember doing anything bad to or with you, I wasn't involved in any group chats, I didn't spend time with you nor attack you. honestly, as far as I recall, I've said more about you these last few days, and all of that has been talking about finding out who you are, what happened, and what can be done to help end this mental break you're having - a mental break you seem to think justifies bombarding people with slurs and insults.

if you're gonna start forgiving me for shit I didn't do, then I'd rather you start by forgiving me for killing the dinosaurs, demoting pluto, and creating the coronavirus with stolen lab equipment.

dasha isn't a pedo, you dumb fuck, and falsely accusing people of being attracted to kids isn't gonna cure you of the alleged trauma of being a dumb kid who thought you'd make buddies in the anti-feminist community and then it turned out they were just as fucked as any community, and you got hate and made enemies.

we've all been through that shit, but the rest of us get therapy and move on with our lives - if I'm not blowing up the inboxes of people who tortured, sexually assaulted, starved, and beat me as a toddler, a child, a teen, I think you can handle not harassing people who knew someone who knew someone who said some mean shit in your tumblr inbox. when you're afraid of someone who actually hurt you, you don't make it your life's mission to antagonise people tangentially related to them to put yourself back on the radar of the people who actually dislike you - or, in case I need to spell it out, I don't buy your claims about your reasoning one bit.

I think you're being a pathetic attention whore who knows none of the people you're messaging - ace, dasha, etc, and now me - could or would do a single thing to hurt you, you know we're not what you claim, so you feel safe slinging whatever insults your tiny brain can conjure up, so that you can scream about how sad you are and get validation and comfort and requests for forgiveness from people nice enough to care about your temper tantrum. or more backlash and argumentation to fuel your persecution complex.

and you're too pathetic to even think of anything imaginative so you resort to ace's username, dasha's trans status, false allegations, and now you're trying to use the fact that I advocate for mentally ill people as a way to get at me - it's hollow and low effort.

I've tried to be nice the last few days, tried to say it sucks that stuff happened, that I hope you get well, etc, and all you've done is get worse and worse to people in their anons, I'm tired of trying.

as a "christian" (which you barely even are, you're just a wanna-be evangelical fundie fuck repeating what the big names in that area disingenuously vomit out), you're supposed to believe that forgiveness comes from god, that mortals are not called to judge on his behalf - and it's a damn good job because you'd be throwing people in hell for passing some guy on the street who's cousin once sold a spliff to someone he didn't know was seventeen.

while we're on the topic, I was raised around dumbass fucked up catholics (if you couldn't tell from my aforementioned childhood experiences), and you've got every single red flag for "fuckface who's only religious to justify being a fuckface" disease.

buddy, I'm a zombie, I know brain-dead when I see it, and you're on a whole new level of it. so cry more. your mental health issues make me feel sorry for you no more than mine made you not want to send this anon. or, in case I need to spell it out again, I don't give a fuck, you ain't special, I've got a list more than ten times as long as that and I'm not here using it to justify calling people slurs.

sucks that you're sick, but you're not gonna get sympathy points when you act like a slimy little wretch for days on end. I get it, being ill makes you mean sometimes, I've been there. still not my job to be your daddy and tell you to go eat some pasta and chill.

and I wish society had no morals, I wish I was giving it none, I wish I was half the amoral influence that you give me credit for.

I'm sick of puritanical, pseudo-religious, over-moralising of every insignificant aspect of our lives - we don't get a moment's peace from being asked to weigh in on every allegation in the news, every company's practices, whether it's okay to listen to some guy's songs, if your thoughts can make you a terrible person, the politics of other countries, the backlash to the backlash to the backlash to the backlash to some celebrity's baby name, whether some rando is "really trans", and a youtuber's mental health issues.

at this point I would gladly trade it in to be a four year-old chimney sweep in victorian england engaged to my cousin, fuck it. at least my aunt-mother-in-law in that world wouldn't believe in chemtrails and couldn't even spell problematic. it'd be total bliss.

in summary, I don't want forgiveness for shit I didn't do, especially from you. I want you to grow up, you bitchy little cunt.

18 notes · View notes

darkmarkets · 11 years

Text

The Horrors of Copyright Registration

A few weeks ago, I was talking to a screenwriter pal of mine (because if you really want to understand creative misery, talk to one of those guys), and he said something that made me want to throttle him soundly about the neck. He said: "I can't submit anything 'till I've registered my stuff."

He meant, of course, registering with the US Copyright office. He planned on spending $35 whole dollars that could be spent on ramen noodles and boxes of tissues (because if you're really suffering through creative misery, those are things you're gonna need) and then going through an extra painful step of applying and waiting before he went on with his life and tried to do something with his writing.

He is, of course, very new to this miserywriting business.

If there's one thing writers do not need to do, it is register their work. For one, copyright law actually protects our written expressions as soon as they're put to page—with or without that silly little circle-c symbol new writers slap on their manuscripts. We need the symbol about as much as we need a pencil in the eye; just ask the SFWA, also known as the illustrious Science Fiction Writers Association. People who, I might remind you, are actually paid to write. (But they won't stab you in the eye with a pencil. That's the HWA's job.)

But, all the screenwriters in the audience might say, what if someone steals my stuff? Well, considering that you're all in a business that is far more cutthroat and bloodthirsty than that of horror novelists, I'd say you're within your right to worry about such things. After all, it is Hollywood that can produce so many movies in the same year about the exact same thing—like 2012, the year of a gajillion Snow White remakes, for example.

But as far as us novelists go, I can tell you: don't worry. Shuuuuush, precious little creative type. Nobody cares enough to steal our novels, anyway.

The SFWA has a more sensitive way of saying it, "Theft of unpublished work is so rare as to be functionally nonexistent."

Registering that unpublished work with the US Copyright office does two things: first, it allows a writer to file a lawsuit in the rare event that their unpublished work is stolen and second, it wastes $35 dollars. It does not allow us cart-blanche authority to eye-stab anyone who dare plagiarize a word we've written down. The only right we get for that money is the right to sue. Who among us are rich enough to enter into a protracted, exhausting court case that could cost us thousands of dollars even in the event of victory, just to keep our claim on a 40,000 word pile of nonsense called The Devil's Pantalones?

Hey...now I kind of want to write a novel about devil pants—but don't you steal my idea. But wait: you totally can. Anyone reading this can say, "Hey, that's a good idea, demon pants, so I'm going to write a novel about Lucifer's Unmentionables." Copyright laws protect the expression of an idea, not the idea itself, which is why it's so hard to prove literary copyright infringement in court. The words have to be the same, not the ideas.

And ideas are stolen every day. We're all probably doing it right now in ways we can't even tell.

So, just take a deep breath, relax, and don't worry about anyone running away with your brilliant 60,000 word manuscript about lingerie running amok in the fashion underworld. The great thing about ideas is, once they start popping up, they never seem to stop. If The Bloomers of Beelzebub doesn't work out for you, for whatever reason, you will find other genius idea to write about. And as long as we keep enough ramen and tissue in the house, we'll be stocked up well enough to keep being miserablewriting.

But, whatever you do, don't be a screenwriter. Those people have it tough.

Lorna D Keach

#The Horrors of Horror Writing

0 notes

mamichigo · 3 years

Text

Title: glass bottles

Pairing: Kokichi/Shuichi

Rating: G

Word count: 2,1k

Tags: Fantasy, Fairytale Elements, Phantom Thief Thief Kokichi (with a twist), First kiss

Summary: Shuichi has something of his stolen in the quiet of night, by a boy with mischief in his eyes.

Notes: Gift for participant #29 in the @kokichigiftexchange

Shuichi had seen them only briefly. One glimpse of a large smile with sharp teeth and purple eyes that seemed to glow. They were light on their feet, quiet as the night as they made it inside Shuichi's room on their tiptoes, like a particularly graceful ballerina. Shuichi didn't have a chance to speak up before the person raised a hand and blew glittering powder into his face. He had collapsed on the spot, but not before the mysterious person supported his swaying body by keeping a hand on his back and another to the back of his head.

The next morning, Shuichi woke up with glitter in his hair and on his fingers, along with a sense that something had gone wrong. Or, like something had gone missing.

He didn't realize the source of that impression until his friend, noticing Shuichi failed to react at all to upsetting events, joked that maybe his emotions had been snatched while he wasn't looking. Kaede had also been startled when he pinned her with an intense gaze and agreed with a terse nod.

"Is it really possible to steal someone's emotions?" Shuichi asked.

Kaede, never one to ignore even his silliest remarks when he was serious about it, put a hand to her chin. "It's not impossible around these parts. I might have heard something like that before, but it's more of a story to scare children than an existing fact."

"But we can't say for sure it doesn't exist?"

"That's right."

Satisfied, Shuichi relented and allowed the topic to change. As soon as he was done, Shuichi set out to research if there was any chance that he had been robbed of his emotions after all. After days of talking to more people than he was comfortable with, Shuichi found somewhat of a specialist (or so that was what he claimed to be). He had an oppressing, almost scary aura to him, but the man spoke of tails that made Shuichi go a little bit starry-eyed.

"Spirits are quite the trick loving bunch," Korekiyo explained over a cup of tea, "perhaps to compensate for what they didn't have the chance to do in life."

"So they're dead…?"

Though Shuichi couldn't see Korekiyo's mouth, he was sure he was smiling somewhat mockingly. "Yes, that would be the logical conclusion."

Shuichi hummed and looked down at his hands. Maybe he'd feel a little sad for this person, if they hadn't stolen his ability to do so.

"Is there any chance for me to find them?"

"Luckily for you, I have many reasons to believe you've encountered a spirit I'm already familiar with."

From the subsequent long monologue that he listened to, Shuichi extracted two important pieces of information: go north, find the closed orphanage that stands at the top of the hill; and, his little robber was apparently a boy who called himself a phantom thief. Or rather, the Phantom Thief, capitalized. Shuichi was doubtful that was his true name.

Nonetheless, Shuichi set out just as instructed. On the sunset of the next day, Shuichi had found himself facing the building that looked a bit like an abandoned church rather than an orphanage, if only because all the windows were stained glass colored vibrant red and pink, for the most part. Shuichi squinted at the building as he struggled to catch his breath.

Though Korekiyo had believed the opposite, Shuichi didn't feel safe, after all. Even a village kid as him knew the stories about people who encountered spirits and never came back afterwards, and knew even more of the ones who returned but not as themselves. Shuichi clutched the sleeves of his shirt.

While he pondered if he should go in or not, the doors slammed open on their own. A giggling voice could be heard, distant; a whistle of the wind. Shuichi tensed up, but shrugged to himself. That was as much of a friendly invitation as he would get, he decided.

The atmosphere inside the orphanage was strange, but perhaps only because he passed rows and more rows of open bedrooms, with beds as small as the ones he used to have in his room when he was nothing but a child. The place was covered in dust and debris, as well as wildlife, like it had been standing so long it was now splitting at the seams.

Though Shuichi was sure he had been wandering without aim, his feet took him to the only room that seemed lived in, to a sense. The dining hall had a table in the middle that went on for miles, and it was the first object Shuichi saw in here that was not dirty. It was also lined with candles in fancy candelabra, making the room just a bit too warm.

The room changed once he stepped properly into it. The bare, rotting walls were now covered in an intricate, elegant wallpaper; the table was surrounded by too tall chairs with plushy looking cushions; the table itself was now full of plates of all kinds of sweets that Shuichi had never seen before. At the center of it all, a carefully balanced tower of beautiful glass vials, adorned with flowers or stars or wings.

Finally, at the head of the table, swimming in his chair, sat a boy who watched him predatorily. Shuichi recognized his teeth first, bared in a childish smile. His face was framed by swirls of red paint, but the rest of his attire was perfectly pure white.

"Phantom Thief," Shuichi greeted.

"So you already know who I am," the Phantom Thief drawled his words, pleased with this outcome. "I'm so glad you went through the trouble of finding me!"

Guessing it was alright to do so, Shuichi sat on the opposite side of the table. The glass tower in the middle obstructed their vision, and they both inclined their heads at the same time to look at each other.

"Of course I did, you have something of mine," Shuichi said, straight to the point.

The Phantom Thief pouted. "We could've made a game out of it, you didn't need to say that right away." He heaved a forlorn sigh. "The rudeness of it all."

"Game?"

"Of course, I love games. Don't you?"

"Occasionally."

The Phantom Thief nodded twice, then dipped his finger into the nearest platter of food. He stuck his finger into his mouth, and promptly spat out whatever it was he just ate.

"Let's talk business, then," the Phantom announced magnanimously. "You're here for what I've stolen from you, is that right?"

"Yes."

"And what are you willing to do to have it back?"

Shuichi blinked. "I don't have to do anything since it's rightfully mine."

There was a stunned silence, followed by loud laughter. The Phantom Thief clutched his sides and his head dipped out of sight for several moments, but Shuichi could imagine the amused expression that was currently on his face.

"That's not how it works here, sorry." He didn't sound apologetic at all. "You have to try harder than that if you want your flask back."

Immediately, Shuichi's eyes were drawn to the glass standing between them. The Phantom Thief applauded him.

"That's right, that's where it is!"

The Phantom Thief stood up and turned to face his chair, then he put one foot up on it, followed by the other. He climbed onto the cushion, then the table with the nimble movements Shuichi just vaguely remembered from their first encounter.

"You see, this wasn't my first heist," the Phantom spoke while he kicked food, delicate china and expensive cutlery aside with the tip of his shoes. He walked to the middle of the table until he could reach for the vials shining in the candlelight. "Yours wasn't all that difficult to catch, either. But it's very special to me, so I can't give it back so easily."

The vial at the very top, placed in the spot of honor, was removed from the overall tower by the Phantom's hands, then held to his chest as if cradling a child.

"So, what is your proposition?"

Shuichi frowned as he watched the navy blue liquid inside slosh. He wondered what would happen if it fell, then broke. Shuichi clutched his hands to his knees.

"What could you possibly see in my sadness?" Shuichi inquired, and if he sounded miffed, well. He was. "Wouldn't it be more rewarding to steal someone's happiness?"

The Phantom contorted his face into a grimace. It made the paint on his cheek distort disturbingly.

"For the record, we don't steal anyone's happiness. That's against the rules." He tilted his head. "Right?"

The question wasn't directed at him. He saw nine heads, nine people all dressed similar to the Phantom Thief, nod in agreement then disappear before Shuichi could process that he wasn't hallucinating. He shuddered as he realized he was being watched by whoever those people were.

"I suppose that's fair," Shuichi conceded. He added, mildly, "But that doesn't explain why you did it, and why you won't return it to me."

The Phantom Thief rolled the flask in his hands and spun a circle himself as he went over the question.

"You wouldn't remember anyway," the Phantom decided.

"Enlighten me."

The Phantom was slightly taken aback by the response, a small stumble to his steps a proof of it.

"...Huh." The Phantom thought and thought, and finally said, "You felt sadness for me."

Shuichi furrowed his head. He was sure he wouldn't have forgotten about an encounter like that.

"When?"

"In a dream."

The Phantom decided to continue his track, this time towards Shuichi. There was more clatter as everything in his path was damaged beyond use. He came to stand above Shuichi, chin tilted up as he looked down on Shuichi.

"Or maybe I'm lying,?" The Phantom Thief challenged. "You'll have to find out yourself, all you have to do is remember. Now, I'll be taking this--"

Shuichi grabbed his ankle before the Phantom could turn on his heels. The Phantom tested the strength of his grip, but didn't try to break free.

"What do you want?" Shuichi asked.

"Oh?"

"We could strike a bargain."

The Phantom smiled in clear self-satisfaction, and from this angle it looked especially cat-like.

"Aren't you the courageous type," the Phantom complimented.

"It can't be anything too bad," Shuichi defied, but the words weren't convincing even to himself.

"You're so lucky I have just the thing in mind today, and it should cause you little to no pain, as long as you don't struggle too much." The Phantom Thief bent down, and suddenly he was crouching and leaning close to Shuichi. "How about it?"

"I'd like to hear what it is, first."

The Phantom Thief giggled. "Alright." He tilted the vial this and that way, showing it up to Shuichi. He inched himself a tad bit closer. "I'll give you your precious emotions, the one I've been treasuring… I'll give it to you, as long as you kiss me in return."

Shuichi couldn't help but gape. He was back to clutching his knees, for an entirely different reason.

"...Is that all?" Shuichi choked.

"You're blushing," The Phantom pointed out without mercy. He watched Shuichi as his face went through the full spectrum of the color red. "So, what will it be? Take it or leave it, I won't take any other bargains, and I won't wait forever. Tick tock, Shuichi."

Shuichi swallowed dryly, and, with his head blessedly blank, pushed himself up by the chair's armrest, and his head met the Phantom's halfway. Shuichi expected him to be cold, to be a corpse covered by a porcelain face, but the Phantom was warm and pliant above him. The Phantom's hands trembled and Shuichi had to grab for the vial before it fell. The sudden touch of skin on skin broke Shuichi's thread of reason, and his other hand found the Phantom's hair and stroked the back of his head.

The Phantom's lips tasted of nothing. Shuichi exhaled softly and found some echo of a distant memory, not his own. Shuichi pulled back, vial in hand.

"Was that enough?" Shuichi asked, voice hoarse.

The Phantom was unresponsive for a beat. Then, he leaped forward, kissed the corner of Shuichi's mouth and demanded, "Call me Kokichi."

"I can do that."

Without a moment's delay, Shuichi downed the contents of the glass vials. It went down like a block of ice. Shuichi watched Kokichi from the corner of his eyes, and the boy did the same.

"This won't be the last you'll see of me, you know," Kokichi commented.

"I'm not afraid."

Kokichi smiled, sharp teeth in his mouth and glitter at the corner of his eyes, with a mess of a hair that framed his innocent looking face.

"Good, I won't stop until I have your heart."

Shuichi chose not to reply. As he left Kokichi standing alone atop the table, too small among the too big furniture, Shuichi could finally feel the stab of sadness that came from the sight.

#kokichi ouma #shuichi saihara #saiouma #oumasai #danganronpa #ndrv3 #my writing

10 notes · View notes

fictional-worlds-are-exquisite · 3 years

Note

ohhh you have experience! i do too! we will be legendary thiefs!

but what is it with kids and stealing teaching supplies? coz my only stealing experience is these cute little notes my primary school teacher had. they were pink/blue and the pink ones were cat shaped and the blue ones sheep shaped. and since i've always been a cat person i used to sometimes steal the cat shaped notes, not for anything really but just to bring home and put them on my table. my little sister recently found one between the pages of a book!

i mean i guess you could also count the time when i accidentally stole some tomatoes but i don't think that counts. because i felt super bad when i noticed so i went back and paid for them. the cashier just about died laughing while i was mortified!

the fact that your hair colour grows out quickly when you have short hair is probably one of its best perks! because mine takes sooo long. and i change my mind about what colour i want them to be so often that my hair just constantly feels like straw (is that an expression i can use in english when talking about hair? basically its very very damaged) i wish i could have short hair but it does not suit me at all :// i had it cut to shoulder lenght once and then realised that maybe lets not repeat that (are you seeing a pattern? the short hair, then the pink hair.. i wonder what's next. maybe I should get a mullet), so i guess i'm sticking to my long damaged hair for now

that's probably the other con of the pandemic - all the hairdressers are closed (not that i would go if they weren't closed, because that's not ok with the numbers we have). the whole not being able to see people should probably affect me more than it does. and i definitely agree that it's nicer to have the option to go out whenever you want and wherever you want to go but i'm mostly ok with sitting at home i guess. i'm just so bored with my washed out red that i have been considering buying hair dye and dyeing it myself. which is NOT a good idea because i either want to go green or bright red (it was a dark red just now so it wasn't bleached) and that involves bleaching. which i should not do unless i want to upload a video to youtube called "dyeing my hair red: epic fail - i went bald"

awesome! heck yeah! we’ll be number one on the thief most wanted list! or perhaps...not on there at all...for they simply can’t prove we ever existed, we’re that good.

I mean for me I thought the counters were pretty and I wanted them at home so I. took some home. thievery was clearly not a concept I understood at such a young age. I’ve always been a cat person too but the sheep ones sound very rad. I would’ve taken one of each like I was selecting items at a store sdhfskdf. I’m so sorry to primary teachers who have to deal with this. I think my counters are in a butter container in the bottom of a big chest in my room. Maybe I should go offer them back to my primary school sfkhskdf.

okay well if we’re being completely honest then one time in I think year 3, I took a feather from my schoolbag and put it in someone else’s bag during morning tea. And when class started back up and everyone came inside I tried to claim someone had stolen it because it was missing! And so the teacher made everyone search their bags in front of her until it was found in another person’s bag and they were like no, I didn’t steal it, I swear! of course they didn’t because I was the one that did this but the evidence certainly pointed towards them being the thief. Anyway my teacher knew something was up because she was like well then...guess I’ll have to go check the security cameras and I panicked I was like oh n o. they’re gonna find me out (we didn’t actually HAVE security cameras but I didn’t know that). so I confessed to her...well, kind of. I said an older boy had forced me to do it, I didn’t want to! But he made me! And then the teacher made me point him out so I selected a random year 7 or 8 boy and claimed it was him. Which, looking back, my teacher definitely knew I was lying, but I thought I’d escaped that time. It was kind of theft. from myself. I do not recall my reasons for doing this and I’d like to think that’s the most trouble I’ve ever gotten myself into, I have been nothing but good since then. That is much less honest than the tomatoes though.

It is a massive perk for sure! I think I first heard the description of straw hair in a fairytale though I can’t remember which...still, I know what you mean. I always hate it when my hair is an odd texture, I can’t stand hair spray or essentially any hair products because of that so I’m glad it grows fast. I first cut my hair when I was donating it to the cancer society and that landed me with shoulder-length hair, it just happened to turn out that way after 30cm was gone, and I was like hm. no. This ain’t it. Long hair also didn’t really suit me though I don’t think, or at least in my eyes it felt weird. I was about to assume no hair suited me but well, I just needed to try a looooot shorter before I found the one. listen. life is short, might as well try some bad haircuts and colours and styles out of curiosity. hair grows back and you can redye it and stuff... it’s fine. it’ll fix itself eventually. -me talking to my hairdresser after requesting something they’re clearly hesitant about

Oh that did suck when we were under lockdown. I was overdue to get a haircut when lockdown suddenly started so that was another month or so before I could see a hairdresser...it got a little chaotic in that time, I was sooo glad to finally get it cut again. I haven’t dyed my hair this year though, I almost did but then I decided I wanted to get a number 2 all over (out of curiosity lmao) so I figured I’d skip it for the time being. When it grows out though...maybe I’ll go back to the dye. It’s actually really funny, one time my usual hairdresser recommended bleaching my hair at home before coming in to get it dyed because the bleach was the most expensive part of the appointment and I was like. I would burn my scalp. I do not trust myself with bleach. That is a terrible idea. I will simply continue to save up the money for whenever I want to get it done. If anything I’d get it bleached professionally then dye it myself at home. The opposite way. Anyway I’ll be sure to point brad mondo to that video sdfksdfsl

#i tried to say thief bi most wanted list like fbi but that just sounds like my sexuality sdflhjksdhf #i have told that feather story before on here i'm pretty sure but every time......#every time i feel like i'm exposing my greatest sin #IT WAS NOT MY PROUDEST MOMENT #i'd like to think i grew up to know the difference between right and wrong #maybe #i used to have uhhhh what the fuck is it called #i can't remember. like a mouthguard. I had to sleep in it to a) stop me from grinding my teeth if I did #and b) try and help widen my jaw bc I could barely open it #anyway I had to clean it each morning with bleach mixed with something if I remember correctly #and I was terrified to even pick up the bleach #you think i'm gonna use that on my HAIR by MYSELF?#no way dude #someone just knocked at the door and i was like don't cough don't cough don't cough #i'm 90% sure it's allergies not a viral bug now but THEY don't know that #Anonymous

3 notes · View notes

anurean99 · 2 years

Text

My Cause of Psycho-Therapy

I like many things about Washington.

Namely, there is a Hasegawa in Senate. I have yet to read of his politics, personality, & what not: but I like that someone Asian has a possition in office. He could be hellbent on the masscre of the whole of Capitol Hill, the genocide of the Midwestern American Population, & I would still be smiling just because "he asia in numba 1 USA political office".

カレハアメリカノセイジジムショデナンバワンノアジア

I also like that we have a stimulous check, state rebate, SSDI: and while everyone is using my SSN & name: they can pay off any debts I might have, namely to Gokodu, pimps, dope dealers, and various dirty police. Do remember I've reported the deadly ephedra grown as an office plant in federal offices. My cousins sort of bombed disneyland and sort of strangled the Wyoming Senator's family. The only people who survive the pollens at the FBI office in downtown Portland Oregon, are typically those who's mothers had an amphetamine addiction or who are strung out on ample marijuana or opium. You know, people on downers or anything that slows the heart. I am probably wanted dead moreso than alive. I truly am in today's age.

I've lost the popularity contest.

I'm infamous.

I'm self absorbed.

I'm concieted and selfish.

In today's age: I am more okay with being hated, than putting on an act to keep everyone else happy. I'm more concerned with my own happiness. I am also rewarded more heavily than I was while loved and adored simply for being conversant & polite. I am rewarded with the deaths of persons who naturally upset me or altared my mood negatively.

I don't get one, a government check that is.

A stimulous check. Where is my foodstamps & disability? Do remember I've lived my entire adult life among homosexuals & infertiles. The woman claiming a spousal arrangement is a credit thief. So, there is no child support to pay.

Someone seems to have stolen my identity. Maybe it was my 8,000$ student loan or a defecit somewhere. Maybe some bitch lied that I had children. Maybe I was sued. Who knows? However it does mean that my being here: my student loan is coming to be paid.

The reason being: is Washington seems to be quick to kill conservatives out of State if and when they make victim or prey of a citizen. I should maybe stay? I don't know. Let's sell my house in Wichita & go buy dope. Let's also kill whomever the hell keeps calling himself my dad.

Mine died.

My mother remarried when I was 20 or so.

My mother probably killed my father. My mother probably suggested the brain surgery he underwent knowing it to be an insured painful death. She probably also wanted the pinael gland to make paliperidone. Pinaels are often mistaken as tumors.

I met her hired dildo once. I spoke to him on the phone once. I could recogize him in a police line up or on a mortician table. I would rather put him on a mortician table or in a police lineup than speak to him or be near him. Now that he has touched my mother: I don't want to be near her. She has his microbes. She carries his dirtiness. She has his smell.

Yes: I would rather put him in a police line up or on a mortician table than allow him to call himself my family or blood.

If my mother is going to hire a subhuman monkey as a dildo, she needs to remind the ape she hires his possition & station in life. Why? To prevent bloodshed.

アトデオイ

J.C. Lambert

https://anurean.tk

0 notes

littlemunchkitty · 7 years

Note

Gee why am I not surprised you have a shitty attitude towards reposting fanart. The vast majority of art that gets reposted comes from artists from Pixiv. Artists who don't speak much, if any, English and may not even be aware their work's being shared. Most of these artists do have very clear "DO NO REPOST" signs on their pages. If you don't know where it comes from, don't post it? It's not anyone's God given right to repost art that doesn't belong to them.

How do you know where THIS person who was put on blast by some random anon got their art from? I looked at the blog and those are google image addresses. They are just living a life with pretty art they see. Not making money nor claiming it as their own. Literally suck it up and deal with it yourself and stop trying to get everyone involved. If art gets stolen, tough shit it's the internet. You have the legal right to post whatever you want. But if someone takes it and reposts it as theirs yet doesn't make money off of it, you legally can't do shit. You can ask tumblr to take it down but they aren't binded by law to do so. Fix it if it bothers you. You can't stop the billions of people on the web from doing whatever the hell they want to. It's not your right in any capacity to complain about public domain non copyrighted art that isn't yours. If you post fan art without a copyright on public domain, you are subject to having it stolen. If you want the law involved and to make it actually illegal to steal your art, then go copyright it. Unless of course your inspiration for a peice of art is already copyrighted material. Logic trumps your emotions. Sure it sucks to get your art stolen and you may feel pretty bad, but legally it's not valid in court because you publicly posted it without copyright. It's the same reason you can't get in trouble for posting memes. It may be someone else's intellectual property, but it isn't and can't be copyrighted. And as a matter of fact putting them on blast is harassment. And that's more annoying than hearing someone having their art stolen. Making everyone else have to hear about it. Im not defending art theives. But im also not defending the loudmouths who don't know when to keep a situation private. It's a worse situation when you involve the fandom and add to the toxicity by creating a shit mountain out of a mole hill. Also if you think my additute is shitty, then you are going to struggle with people in the real world. Not everyone is fakely optimistic like the people on tumblr. So moral of the story, if you happen to get your art stolen ON TUMBLR. Just report them and stop "signal boosting" them. It adds unnecessary fuel to the fire. Just like the situation with bre-lla. They stole art. Fine, but instead of making a giant shit storm. Just contact tumblr and block them. Here's a story guys. In the case of shadman, some of you may know him. He's in legal trouble. Not for the loli porn but for a picture of a roblox character in gang attire. Roblox is copyrighted material and they are suing him and have shut down his website I believe. It may be his fanart. But it's still not intellectually his. Public people can take his art and repost it. But he can't sue cause it's not intellectually his (most of his characters are fan art of different series) He can ask that they take it down and they may out of good will. But if they are on a private website without a company host. They don't have to. Tumblr on the other hand will do something about it. But they don't legally have to. Rejet can sue most everyone here if they wanted to but they don't feel like it and they encourage it. You can say "mine" on a peice of fan art because they don't care. But technically it's rejet's intellectual property, and, if they wanted, can sue you for that. Another story. The first woman to find dna did not get her noble peace prize because she had her research stolen and submitted before she could. But she couldn't prove that it was hers and she didn't have anything legally binding her to the research so legally it was fair use. Eventually she was going to be recognized after the story broke, but she died and you can't recieve a noble peace prize post mortem. But even so, the men didn't get theirs taken away. Many inventions and patents can be patented by the "theif" who took them with no legal repercussions. Maybe a smack on the hand but nothing serious. This has happened before. 2nd Moral of the story. Not legally yours not technically theirs. But by the power of public domain, there is little you can do in the case of art theives unless you'd like rejet to sue both of you and demand it be taken down. 3rd moral: Stop making a mountain out of a mole hill. You won't do anything but split the fandom between those who agree and those who don't. There's no reason to blast people other than attention. 4th moral: most companies don't care too much about fan art because it's impossible to police over public domain. But that doesn't make it your intellectual property just because they are too lazy to do anything about it. 5th moral: fan art is technically a breach of copyright because if you take someone else's character and say it's that character it's still not your original thing. Imagine an art thief steals the mona lisa(assume leonardo davinci copyrighted it) and draws a moustache on her. Is it really not Leo's anymore? And if someone steals it from them, can they really go and sue the other guy? That's why i hate the complaints of art thieves. Draw what you'd like post what you'd like but the internet isn't a protective domain. Unless you've created and invented something. If someone steals from you against COMPANY policy. Then deal with it quietly with the company and the person. It may be upsetting but the law doesn't deal with upset. Unless you are upset with a copyright. Aka large companies like YouTube and Disney. Once something enters the public domain and not a second later it is 100% fair use by EVERYONE on the internet. Morally you can be upset but literally and legally no you cannot. Which is why the ones who complain bother me the most. It's like they have no understanding of the fair use laws or when something becomes public domain/fair use, copyright breach, or ect. Conclusion/TL:DR,Fanart itself is a breach of copyright whether the company cares or not. Posting said fanart to a public domain such as a public blog on public social media without a copyright=fair use. Meaning legally there is no art theft. Saying "don't repost my stuff" won't hold up in court. Dragging everyone in the fandom through YOUR mud and having people pick sides and splitting the fandom all for attention of this one person instead of maturely going to this person and Tumblr to solve the problem is a much a problem as the "theft" in the first place. Essentially this is one large moral cluster fuck. And LEGALLY this is the answer. I don't care what your morals say. I personally won't steal art because i have no desire to post art. But those who do, depending on what is being stolen, might have the legality of fair use on their side and copyrighted material against you. You can be sued by the company of the fanart you created but you cannot sue someone for taking it. Ps Tumblr has no jurisdiction over pixev posts and vice versa. Someone on pixev stealing tumblr posts can get away with it and someone on Tumblr stealing pixev posts can get away with it. Speaking in legal terms. Pss stealing an oc is entirely different because you are the sole creator.

0 notes