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naerwenia · 2 years

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The Sword and the Scabbard (Wilhuff Tarkin X f!Reader)

Just another Tarkin x Reader, or more like self-insert, since I decided to write in first-person. Written after I completed writing my faery larp, ran it, and wrote a small larp for a larp festival. This is just 5700+ words of smut, dumb references to the StaWa rpg campaign I’m in, and probably ooc Tarkin. But I finished it! Hope you like it!

NSFW, warnings: Noncon, abuse of authority, anal, fingering, restraints, submissive reader, naked female clothed male, interrogation, body cavity search.

Summary: The reader is a secretary and has been seen in an event with known members of the Rebellion. Now she is being interrogated by nonother than Tarkin himself, who is more than willing to erase this mistake from her record if she answers his questions and complies to his demands.

Also on Ao3!

The Sword and the Scabbard

Hands tied above my head, feet barely touching the ground. If I didn’t know better I might have thought I was whisked away to another time and place when the officers came to me, but as a secretary I knew they were not there to take me to receive an award for outstanding work and give me a day off. They just took me to the Lab, as the ISB, Imperial Security Bureau, called it, or just a room with a table and a chair, and restraints next to a wall, now holding me. It was not what I might have used to describe a laboratory, but to them it was and I never wanted to know what might happen here. Yet, there I was, hanging, numb, vulnerable.

The door opened and I had enough courage and energy to open my eyes to see the officer that was assigned to interrogate me, but to my absolute horror it wasn’t just an officer, it was the Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin. A sharp inhale dried my mouth while my heart stopped before starting to race, beating so loud I couldn’t hear the door close, only my heart and the silent horror of seeing the older gentleman step in. He did not even look at me when he entered the room, walking straight to the desk that had some papers on it, probably some files on me. Tarkin stayed there for a minute, looking through the papers, like he was searching for something in them, brows furrowed and eyes sharp like those of a hawk. However, I knew he already knew everything he needed to know, this was mostly just theatrics to wear out the prisoner’s mental state, and it worked, especially since the one behind the table was Tarkin. There was no way he was just assigned to this as an ordinary task he usually took care of, I was not important enough to be left alone in a room with him, and that made the situation even more nerve-wrecking, because it could only mean that: 1. There was a mistake, 2. I had gotten myself mixed up in something I was not aware of, or 3. He specifically requested to review my case and interrogate me. Each possible scenario was terrifying. People had been executed for smaller mistakes before, and I was not ready to go this way, not today.

“Not even a hello to your superior?” he asked, looking up from the papers, “Ah, of course, the gag, let me remove it for you”. His voice was mocking, yet so matter of fact one might believe him if not for the fact protocol was clearly followed and he knew it better than anyone. He knew there was a gag in my mouth, that I was not allowed to speak unless spoken to, and that I was left here for hours before he even showed up, left to ponder my options and the weight of my misdeeds. Unfortunately, I could not wrap my head around what was happening or what I had done wrong, as I had dedicated my time to the projects and the medical team I worked with, working under his direct supervision. He knew me, maybe not well, but enough to know my name without the papers, and that was more than I actually wanted him to know about me, but on the other hand I wished I could be closer. Both sides were equally scary, putting pressure on the way I might have to act.

Tarkin came over to me, removing the gag forced on me by the officials after they had stripped me of my dignity by removing each of my clothes issued by the Imperial order and the ship I worked on. While the gag did not cover anything, just giving me an excuse to not speak, Tarkin stripped that comfort from me, making sure I had nothing to hide behind.

“Look at me, girl,” he said, and I instinctually looked up at him. It was a sight to behold, a tall man, with the posture of a someone who has dedicated their life to military, in a tailor made suit and his military plaque neatly placed on it, his blue eyes looking down on my dishevelled face and body, someone in pain and confused, looking for relief where there is none, yet hoping the man in front of me had a modicum of understanding towards me. His hand went under my chin, keeping it up, making me look straight into his eyes, even when I would have done it without asking, but he wanted the control, like his smirk revealed. A small gesture to enforce the power imbalance I could not even see at that point, too focused on keeping my tears from falling down my face. Still, Tarkin seemed more than happy to just revel in the mixture of emotions dancing across my face while keeping my focus only on him. He had all the power in the situation, physically and mentally, maybe even emotionally, keeping me on a leash, on the palm of his hand like a dancer in a music box. He knew what he wanted and there was no way I couldn't provide him what he wanted, even if it meant he had to show each step to me.

Finally releasing my chin from his grip that had become gradually more forceful, Tarkin gave me the chance to rest my head, yet I felt too timid to move my face, keeping my eyes on him as he took two steps back, looking me up and down. There was no reaction on his face or posture, only a huff and moving hands from behind to the front, looking like he was contemplating his next step. Usually he wouldn’t have to, the protocol was clear on the first steps before he had to make a decision on the best way to continue the interrogation, but this was a different situation, less an interrogation, more of a personal reflection with someone who had made a mistake.

“It is whispered by my guards that you must be a special rebel indeed to be seen by me personally,” Tarkin said, choosing his words carefully for the correct effect. Brief surprise flashed on my face as I tried to go through all the situations I had ever been in that might have given that impression on anyone looking over me, having me grasping at straws. I was not given the permission to speak, so I had to keep the questions to myself, at least for the moment. The silence seemed to please Tarkin, making him comfortable in the fact that I was not going to blabber like a schoolgirl on her first date, or say anything unnecessary. Things were going as he had planned.

“I hope you understand that this is not anything personal, just an impersonal interrogation due to the fact you have been seen with known members of the Rebellion, and while others might have been more unforgiving about this, I still think of you as a valuable member of my crew and wish to clear this of your name. However, do not for a moment think of yourself as irreplaceable,” he said, brows furrowing with the last sentence. Even with the last line, Tarkin’s words comforted me, letting me know he would listen to what I might say, which made the situation a bit better, if not almost tolerable mentally, as the physical stress from the way I was tied did keep me on my toes, literally.

“So tell me, why were you in Umbarra Bar last week, taking part in a poetry night? An intel exchange masquerading as an art event, and you took the mic too, with a piece called ‘Red Shoes’. I hope you have an explanation, and you can tell the names of those you’ve met there. This is a statement, not a question,” he said, eyes piercing through me, looking for any sign of hesitation or lying. I was too stunned by the statement to even grasp the fact that I had taken part in an intel exchange without even noticing, only happy to be hearing amateur poetry and performing it myself on the open mic. It was all so fun, so exciting, and it turned out to be my doom. There were no words for me to offer, no real explanation, only quiet “I just like poetry…”. My head and gaze dipped down, but he was quick to move back close to me, grabbing my chin to make me look into his eyes, slightly irritated by my answer, but the sincerity of it might have made a softer man smirk, but Tarkin’s face was unchanged, uncaring. He noticed the tone and words I used, finding them adorable, innocent, and something he desired to control, keep in his hand and on a leash, never letting it go. But for now, he had other questions that needed answers and those questions needed no words on my part, just compliance, which I freely gave.

While his hand kept my chin and whole face in their place, looking for any sign of resistance, but only found submission, desire to please the man who held my life in his hands. With a faint smile, he let go.

“But before we go on, I must do the cavity search, we can't have you concealing anything from me, can we now?” he said with a smirk and something akin to desire behind his eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing with this, and why. I did not, just accepted it must happen, yet feared what it might include, and wondered why it must be him. While I preferred it to be him over any of the ones who took my clothes, why did he have to be the one, why here, why now?

Just a nod, I let him know I was ready and willing, not questioning his words anymore than I might question his loyalty to the Empire. It was only a courtesy, but made me feel even less powerful, giving him access to me, giving up my sense of self with my own actions, saying yes to the inevitable. Maybe it pleased him and made him go easier on me, rather than struggling at every point and making him tighten the restraints.

It really pleased him to see me accept his touch and command, making him know that I was more than just another unruly girl, but he knew better. From all he had seen and talked, I was more than just a girl, more than a potential pawn in politics, though that might have been a great place for me if I wasn’t so naïve in Tarkin’s eyes. No, that would not help advance his goals, unlike getting me to submit, swearing loyalty to him. It was only a matter of time, since there was no way for me to escape him now.

A thumb on my lower lip made me open my mouth a bit, which he silently pried open, forcing his long fingers inside, a bit down my throat, then a bit more, until I gagged, but he still kept his fingers in their place. I did my best to not gag, to sooth my reflex so his fingers could stay there, and while it first seemed to work, a slight movement made me gag more, and Tarkin moved his fingers almost out, stopping short of pulling them out, leaving the tips of his fingers on top of my tongue, letting my saliva pool in my mouth until I had to swallow. Having to move my mouth and tongue, the movements I had to make to swallow the saliva must have felt like I was sucking on his fingers as I let my tongue move around, and the way he withdrew his fingers finally made such a lewd sound I instinctually lowered my head in shame, only to have his fingers move my head so I had to face him again. Burning on my cheeks was met with his hot breath and cold words.

“Oh dear, you don’t seem to be concealing anything, but we must make sure,” he said in a surprisingly sweet tone, like talking to a scared animal caught in a trap, but added coldly, asserting his control over the situation, “We have barely begun.”

With a few steps, he moved behind me, hands moving down my breasts as his chest moved to be close to my back, feeling like he was preparing me for something. For a moment he let me go, letting me just hang there uncomfortably, but he gave me a piece of relief as he lowered my hands, putting me on my feet and then lowering my hands even further, letting my hands fall down, relieving the tension from my shoulders and wrists. Only then did I realise that my hands had gone numb, the pain distracting me enough to bury the numbness.

“Now be a good girl and we can have the restraints moved soon. Be the good girl I know you are, just follow my orders, and nothing bad happens, this will all be cleared from your record like it was nothing but a nightmare,” Tarkin whispered in my ear as he moved behind my back, then pulling me backwards. I thought I was about to fall, letting out a small shriek, but I was just made to sit on his lap. Not even a smirk made it to his lips, as they were tightly in line, him holding back any noise he might accidentally let out when feeling my soft butt land on his lap while his hands spread my legs. Only a deep exhale made it out of his nose, burning the skin of my shoulder with anticipation laced with lust, like his insides were burning yet mind focused on the moment, hands travelling the bare skin laid on his lap with the veil of protocol and trust. At the same time my mind raced all over, trying to determine if I was really so wet the room air felt cold between my legs, and if my mind was tricking me to believe he felt almost hard under me. The thought only made me feel myself getting wetter, wishing he would move on with the search, so I could focus on something else than imagining his cock hard in his pants, straining against his trousers and my bare ass on his lap, legs spread, pussy wet and weeping on his trousers, staining his pants with my lust, lust I tried so hard to hide yet the situation made it even worse. A shudder of embarrassment and cool air tingling my wet pussy, Tarkin put his hands down on my thighs, spreading them a bit more open, so they were kept open by his legs.

“Just another cavity search, miss,” he said sweetly into my ear before his hand was drawn to my pussy, spreading those lips slowly before teasing the opening, only plunging in as I let out a moan mixed with surprise from how gentle he almost seemed, just to be hit with whiplash as he used his index finger very roughly to explore my insides. His finger was long, almost hitting my cervix on its first push in. Pushing and pulling back he made me whimper, trying to keep myself from moaning anymore than I had, but the curling of his finger in me while a part of his hand rubbed by clit made me shriek again, letting out a noise somewhere between a moan and a scream. He did not stop, just continued methodically deeper and while trying to hit every spot inside, he added another finger. Unfortunately it made me moan in delight as he pushed them both deeper, hitting my cervix, giving me a tinge of pain that was delivered with a wave of pleasure. The moan made Tarkin clamp his free hand down my neck. Disappointment laced his words, yet the way he said them and how his body reacted felt almost encouraging. “You are supposed to be quiet, take this search like it is. I have already given you more freedom than usual, letting you sit comfortably and removing your gag. Now just let me finish this with you and we can both move on,” he whispered in my ear, playing with my mind, “or are you a little slut for punishment?”. His hand clamped harder on my throat, his movements between my legs getting faster, suddenly including a third finger inside and thumb on clit, almost gently, massaging it, yet knowing exactly what he was doing. Methodically he was giving me what my body desired, seemingly overriding my mind, but the truth is I wanted to submit and please, and the way he expertly made me do it without having the time to even realise what he was doing to me, it was infuriatingly intoxicating.

As he clamped down harder on my neck, I felt the shape of his cock even more clearly on my butt, harder and harder not to notice. We were both enjoying something we should not have been, and the thought made me tighten around his fingers, which in turn made him choke me even harder, completely cutting my airflow, and turning his attention completely on my clit. Just a few strokes more, and a silent order to cum whispered in my ear, I tightened one last time, keeping his fingers in place in me as I came undone, getting over the edge like never before, feeling a full-body orgasm for the first time. His hand around my throat was the first to loosen, giving me the chance to finally have a deep breath while the same hand moved down my body, keeping me in place as I tried to collect my thoughts and the control over my body. He tried to move his fingers, but I couldn’t make myself loosen the muscles around his fingers, still coming down from my orgasm. I wanted to just lie down, but Tarkin’s grip around me was like a tight hug keeping me in place so I wouldn’t just fall on the ground.

But there was something brewing in Tarkin’s mind. Finally, he had the one thing escaping his grasp. All this dancing around, working him up, no release, just a girl that caught his eye, creating a chasm between what he saw and what he wanted. A tease is what I was to him, giving the smile of a goddess, a hint of flirting in the eye, yet always a step too far from reach. “A common secretary” was what they called me, yet I had caught the eye of many, even without noticing it myself. The obliviousness made Tarkin lose his mind, and there was no way to protect me from myself. Kindness and desire to please would certainly hurt me sooner than later, or worse, make me take a place as some ungrateful, common officer’s secretary and eye candy for all to see. No, to Tarkin, my place was under control, in a metaphorical leash for now. Now, finally, there was a reason for him to tie me up so I would have to face him on his terms, yet here the girl was, coming undone with a mere touch from him. Unravelling my mind with just a thought, there was an exact way he desired to have me, and in his mind I was more than willing to play this game he had set up, even if I didn’t know it.

He gently withdrew his fingers, making me gasp and pant from the movement, and he gripped me tighter, giving me the illusion of an actual hug. The silent moment let all my emotions come to the surface, almost making me break down crying, but I was just pushed to the ground, still having my ankles chained to the floor.

“Now, there is only one more thing waiting for you, but this can all be over now, just tell me the names of the ones you met. We both know you have no reason to keep those names from me, just give me what I want to know, and I can make sure things improve for you. You can go back to your job, I can make sure no one bothers you about this and there is no mention of this talk between us… Just be a good girl for me, prove your loyalty to me,” he spoke gently, yet his tone made sure I knew the veracity of his words. I could hear him getting up from his chair, smoothing the wrinkles of his uniform while looking at my pathetic, naked body next to his feet. A smile might have crossed his lips if I had looked up, seeing me slowly breaking to pieces under his gaze and touch. “You could be so much more, just swear your loyalty to me. Yield to me, submit to my touch, do as I say and I will give you everything,” he said, getting on one knee behind me, whispering into my ear as he brushed my hair out of the way with his long fingers that still retained my wetness on them. “Yield to me, sweetheart,” he said expectantly, knowing he had me in his hand.

“I don’t know…” I started, followed by a sniffle, “I don’t know if I can trust you.” These were the only words I could muster, the only thing that made any sense coming out of my mouth, the only words I could say wholeheartedly. Any declaration of love or hate would have had doubt behind the words, and even now, I feared to fail him with my answer. He had violated my body and mind, pushed me to the edge of pain and pleasure, yet I still wished to please, make him happy with me.

“Then let me show you,” Tarkin said, reaching to open the ankle restraints. “Now,” he started, “What did I tell you I was doing to you?” “A… Cavity search?” I answered, now clearly knowing where he was going with his words. “Good. What is left of that?” He answered and continued with a question, but did not give enough time for me to answer, seeing my embarrassed face trying to find an untainted way to say it. He, however, had no trouble saying it aloud. “Yes, anal search. Let me show you that I keep my word every time,” he said, “and you are going to thank me for it.”

Tarkin picked me up, just to throw my chest on top of the desk, on top of all the papers and notes. Other than moving my head on its side and grabbing the side of the table, I had no time to move before his hands began their dance on my bare ass. His hips pressed against my ass, his hard but still clothed cock rubbing against my naked ass cheeks. Just the small movement elicited a moan from my lips, which in turn made his hand slap against my bottom like a reminder this was not for pleasure but a part of the interrogation, but I knew that was just a fleeting thought now in both of our minds, especially since the slap only made me moan harder. While I could not see his reaction through my hair that had fallen on my face, his reaction told me everything I needed to know.

“So, the pain excites you? Should have known it from someone like you, slut,” he said, following his words with two spanks. “I think I shall now give you a punishment for that. Ten spanks, hmm?” he said, and rather than giving me a chance to answer, or even comprehend that it was a question, he gave me another slap and “Answer me, girl”. “Yes, sir, ah, spank me, sir”, I quickly said, gathering my words to say something aloud. “Good,” he muttered, and moved a bit to have a better angle to spank me from.

Snap, spank, slap, snap, slap, and so on, and me saying thank you, sir, after each one, just out of habit first, and then I couldn’t stop. Thank you, even after the tenth one hit my right cheek and he left the left one untouched. Even if my mind didn’t want to say it aloud, the burning only on one cheek made me unconsciously groan, my body longing for more to balance the pain. My mouth, however, refused to let out a word, refusing to yield under his touch.

“Speak, you know you want to. Tell me what it is you want,” Tarkin said, just massaging the left side of my bottom gently, but fingers burning with desire, wanting to give me what my body craved. The only thing holding him back was my mouth’s refusal to say the words, but that tide was broken when he pressed his still clothed cock against me, showing me the desire and lust he felt too. “Please sir, spank me more, please spank the other side too, sir, please!” I cried out, letting myself fall on his hands. As soon as I had said the last words, he took a step back and began spanking me with much more force than before, both too quickly to really enjoy the reactions and noises I gave in response, but too slowly for a man who was denied all he desired for so long and was now given all that on one plate. I screamed, pain almost too much to handle, yet not enough for me to try and run away, it just made me more wet, so wet it ran down my legs. Tarkin was still clearly in control, starting over when my mouth forgot the number we were on the first time around, forcing me to count the spanks again, which I did, with pleasure.

All he did was always after a small stop, a brief moment before any action he took. After the tenth spank and thank you from me, he sighed, and opened his belt and zipper, then let his trousers fall down. He was not in a hurry, no one was going to come in and stop him, and I certainly was not going to run away, not even try such a thing now. I could clearly hear him removing his trousers, having expected it, and still the sound made me gush more, my pussy ready yet knowing he was not going to touch it here now. Silently he gathered my wetness on his fingers and spread it on his cock and then on my asshole. With one finger he gently touched the rim, clearly not wanting to hurt me by ramming his cock in me without preparations and enough lubricant. He was not sure how experienced I was, so giving me the tenderness before his own pleasure was a calculated move from him, as it was going to be more focused on him than anything else.

Again moving his fingers between my pussy lips, soaking them in my lust. “Your body betrays you, sweetheart,” he told me, curling his fingers in me, but only to show he had learned my body better than I could. Just that touch and his words were messing with my mind, pushing me closer to breaking down, to just cry. If I cried, I couldn’t lie to myself. I was scared of him, yet he gave me what I wanted the way I was only able to dream of when I was alone.

He pushed his fingers further in before withdrawing them and painting a trail of lust from my pussy to my asshole, now more forcefully pushing in and moving in and out, from left to right, then spreading fingers while the other hand caressed my bare skin, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. His cock was pinned against the back of my thigh, hot and hard, feeling like it could brand my skin, only to withdraw for a second before rubbing itself between my legs, coating itself in my juices. Just one deep breath, out, another in, I told myself, relaxing my whole body under his touch, readying myself, but the way he rubbed against my folds was distracting and just made me more aroused, messing with my focus. It didn’t bother him though, just relishing in the moment of calm before the storm.

Withdrawing himself from between my legs, his fingers spread my asscheeks as Tarkin spit on my hole, making a small shudder go through me as the cold air hit my ass. I could hear him stroking himself for a moment before pushing into me, only the tip first. Both of us took slow breaths, slowly pushing in as he breathed out. The slow method made it easier to take, yet made me impatient as he was overly careful with me. Deeper, I screamed in my head and grasped the side of the table tighter, wanting to move, but not really being able to. Thankfully Tarkin seemed to have similar frustration, pushing deeper, almost all the way, thrusting in with force that pushed me further up the table and made me moan in relief. It was enough for him to move more, just like he wanted, more, deeper, faster, finally letting his lust guide him. Tarkin’s finger dug into my flesh, his hands keeping me in my place, my hips pushed on the edge of the table as his hips pounded me with force. The thrust was almost painful as just like his fingers dug into my flesh, the table’s edge pushed into me, but the fact Tarkin was the one keeping me securely in my place on the table made me almost love the discomfort.

His thrusts were deliberate, deep and controlled, but not uncomfortable or like someone trying to keep themselves from coming too quickly. No, this was something enjoyable for both of us, even if it might have seemed otherwise from the outside. His hands moved up from the hips to massage my ass, gripping the cheeks before giving both a spank, and putting an arm on my back, pushing me on the table harder as he started to move his hips quicker. The movements of his cock inside me were perfectly balanced, deep and quick, yet harsh and dominant, as he knew exactly what he wanted and I was giving it to him, no matter if I wanted to or not. While his cock didn’t tear me apart, only filling me and stretching like nothing before, the pleasure from it was. Here I was, fucked senseless by a man I adored, him filling my ass as he took me under his control, made me be his at this moment. It felt so good to have a hard and long cock inside me, taking me just like he wanted while I just moaned for more.

The moans made Tarkin kiss my back, leaving hot marks with his tender breath brushing my back, and then he bit down on my shoulder, gently before licking and sucking on it, then biting down harder as his hips pounded faster into me. His thrusts became rougher, snappier, as I had to move my chest up from the table as Tarkin’s teeth felt like they would soon bite of a piece of my skin, but he just continued fucking me and didn’t stop biting. This made me squirm in pain, finally giving him a reaction to pain that was uncomfortable, which kept him going, pleasing him even more than just the tightness around his cock and my submission. The harder I screamed the more he seemed to enjoy it, only stopping when he had to take a better grip of my hips, fucking me roughly while chasing his orgasm, so close I could feel it. His hips rocked hard into my ass, each movement making sure I didn’t forget where I was and who was taking control of me, and as his fingernails dug into my skin, I cried out loud. The teary-eyed moan mixed with cries of pain, his hands on my skin, hurting me, all mixed as he came in me. Only a grunt, sigh, and stillness of his hips alerted me to the fact, but soon I felt his warm cum, and as his cock softened and he withdrew it from me, some of the cum spilled out, but I couldn’t really tell, it was all so mixed in spit, wetness, and sweat.

While there was a certain serenity in the situation, fulfilled and pleasured beyond comprehension, my mind was overloaded, overwhelmed, making me cry, finally getting over my conscious desire not to cry. All the emotions came over me at once, tears streaming down my face as I tried to breathe, but only managed to wheeze in a few gasps. I could feel his strong arms prying my fingers from the edge of the table, then picking me up to his lap as he sat down on his chair, just letting me sit there and cry to his chest. My hands grasped his jacket while one of his hands kept me up and the other soothed me by petting my head and back. “Shh, it’s over now, it’s all over. I’m here, don’t worry”, he kept saying softly to me, like overriding my fear with comfort from his words and closeness, he was there for me, taking care of me. “Shh, sweetheart. I got you now, it’s all going to be fine, love,” he kept repeating, and it felt so sincere. Just his presence was becoming calming to me, his scent lulling me to a sense of security, his patience and strong hands making sure I didn’t feel like a burden. It almost felt like he had now seen many sides of me, the good and the bad, and still he wanted to keep me in his arms until I had stopped crying and panicking.

Tarkin’s lap felt like a safe haven after all the emotions, making me act bold enough to wrap my arms around him and rest my head against his chest. He took one of his hands and used his fingers to lift my chin enough for him to kiss my lips softly, yet with authority, making me know I was his now. More tears fell down my cheeks yet I smiled at him, knowing he would keep me safe now that I submitted to him fully. He only gave a small smile back, with a simple message: You cannot escape me now.

#star wars fanfiction #tarkin x reader #wilhuff tarkin #Grand Moff Tarkin #x f!reader

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ace-in-a-shopping-cart · 3 years

Text

Dance With Me Under the Stars

@yeah-im-a-fae-deal-with-it, I hope you enjoy this! I had a lot of fun making it and I hope I did the wishes justice. Happy Holidays!! (Much of the imagery was based on the song Volcano by The Vamps.)

@sanderssidesgiftxchange

Word Count: 3993

It was mid semester and Virgil had arrived late to class for the first time in his three years of college. He hurried in quietly, taking his usual seat and pulling his books out. Almost shamefully, he grabbed his homework and walked between the desks to put it on the teacher’s.

He must have had the worst luck in the world as, just then, she turned around. “Ah, Mr. Storm. I was wondering when you’d show up.” Her tone was kind, no note of malice anywhere.

Virgil nodded. “I forgot to set my alarm.” His voice was quiet, barely reaching past the professor.

She nodded with a smile that seemed genuine. “Go back to your seat, please. Just as discussed yesterday, you’ll be debating Mr. Croft in a few minutes.”

Virgil trudged back to his seat, slipping past the others to sit in his usual corner. Feeling eyes on him, he looked up to find Logan Croft, a double major in zoology and astronomy who was taking this class for fun, staring at him with an unreadable expression. Virgil ignored him, turning back to his notebook and doodling in the margins as he waited for the professor to finish taking attendance.

He got through half the page before he was being called up to debate, as per usual. He and Croft were only put against each other as examples or if the lecture finished early. This was mainly due to them both being stubborn in their ways and being able to debate things for hours. Thus, they were both called into her office the day before to confirm the topic and style of the debate.

There they stood, on opposite sides of the same plain. It was a familiar position for the pair during their debates. While many would have seen a peaceful place within that plain, maybe even a spot to build something, the two students only saw a battlefield with the fight yet to be fought, yet to be won. Their words danced across the plain, leaving wounds that didn’t mean a thing outside of that moment. A struggle for dominance raged before, as it always did, they came to be equals that saw eye to eye.

Their debate lasted for the first half of class before they came to some sort of agreement on their topic and sat down to listen to the teacher give a lecture on what just happened. After class, Croft caught up with Virgil on his way out. “That was a good debate today, Storm.” He said. The battlefield was back to a plain, nothing special about it.

Virgil looked at him briefly before just shrugging and walking up the stairs. He didn’t bother to look back or wonder why the student who usually avoided him unless it was during these debates was talking to him. He just knew he needed to get to class.

A day later, he was running to dance class and missed a step. Crashing down the stairs, he landed at the bottom in a haze of pain. He tried to move but found that his vision was blurry and his ankle was broken. Someone nearby gave a shout and he heard footsteps on the stairs. A hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched, coming face to face with the person who lived across the hall from him.

“Virgil, what happened?” Emile said, eyes looking concerned.

The dancer didn’t even lie to the psychology major he knew only in passing. “I fell.” He shook his head, trying to get his vision to focus on something, anything. “My ankle hurts.”

Emile nodded and moved to look at it. Gently pressing, he inspected the joint. Virgil hissed when he pressed on it and Emile sat back. “Yep, that’s broken.” Sighing, he moved to help Virgil to his feet, throwing the dancer’s arm over his shoulders. “I’ve got time before my next class so I’ll take you to the nurse before I go tell you’re dance teacher you won’t be able to make it today.”

Virgil shook his head, hobbling along beside him. “No, I’ll tell her later.”

Emile frowned. “You know Professor Kim is not going to be happy about this development. She was counting on you being there through the whole semester.”

Virgil just laughed, shaking his head. “Since when do you talk with her?”

“Since I came to drop off your lunch that day and she was the only one there. We struck up a conversation about you.”

Virgil nodded. “Fair.”

Emile pushed the door open and sat Virgil in the nurse's office before leaving with a wave, tossing an, “I’ll be back in a bit,” over his shoulder. Virgil waited for the nurse to come and diagnose him, soon being rolled out on a gurney on his way to the hospital to get a cast on his broken ankle. He’d also been told that he had a concussion but that wasn’t the main concern.

A few days later, debate class was back in session and Virgil was there in a cast, crutches by his side. Croft came in and eyed the crutches before setting his bag by his usual chair. He didn’t sit down as Virgil thought he would, rather coming over to stand by Virgil’s seat. He nodded his chin at the cast. “What happened there?”

Virgil was taken aback by the care in his voice, a voice that had previously remained so neutral while talking to him that it was borderline monotone. He shrugged as he continued to grab his books out of his bag. “I fell.”

Croft raised his eyebrows, looking about as convinced as he would if Virgil had just told him the sky was magenta. “You fell? Why don’t I buy that, Storm?”

Virgil shook his head. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t believe the truth, Croft.”

He huffed, his eyes melting into the concern that was evident in his voice. Opening his mouth, he seemed to be about to say something but thought better of it, going to sit down instead just as the professor walked in. She paused by his desk. “Professor Kim told me about the ankle. You don’t have to debate for the rest of the semester if you don’t feel up to it.”

Virgil shook his head. “Standing won’t be a problem as long as I have the crutches.”

She nodded. “Still, I’d like to let you rest for a bit.”

Virgil shrugged. “I’m fully capable of standing and debating but I’ll follow your lead on this.” She gave a final nod and moved to stand at the front of the room to begin class.

Thus, six weeks went by. Virgil did essays on dance and movement instead of performing the dances. Professor Kim insisted on recording the lessons so he’l still be able to do them when he’s recovered, which he was immensely grateful for. Debate class went similarly in that he wasn’t called up as often to debate Croft anymore. Instead, he wrote most of his debates as argumentive papers.

That summer, Virgil stayed on campus. He wasn’t taking a summer course, he was simply trying to follow the videos Professor Kim left for him. He lived nearby anyways so it made sense to keep using the studio on campus. That’s how he ended up running into Croft again on the stairs.

“Oh,” the other student said, bag in hand as he was clearly trying to put his books back in it, “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Virgil smiled, holding up the gym bag that had replaced his book bag. “The studio is allowing me to catch up on my dance lessons over the summer.” He paused. He and Croft had never been too cordial with each other, merely remaining civil. However, toward the end of the semester they'd come to some sort of academic truce. Now, they were just normal strangers, just two students. So, Virgil took a chance. “What about you? Why are you still here?”

Croft finally shoved the last book into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “I’m having to retake a class due to low grades.” He shook his head. “I just can’t grasp the subject.”

“What is it?”

Croft sighed. “Psychology.”

Virgil nodded and, on a whim, gave an offer. “I passed Psych with flying colors if you want me to tutor you?”

That plain, that had once been a battlefield before lying dormant, became a meadow in that one moment. No longer a place for duels or violence, but peace and healing. Their once shaky truce seemed to settle, becoming something more permanent, as Croft smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

They walked side by side as they discussed times and tactics for studying. They concluded that their only overlapping free time was directly after Virgil was finished with dance practice as that was when Croft got out of his classes and clubs but before Virgil had to go to Professor Kim’s office for office hours.

So, the very next day saw Virgil walking out of the shower room, towel he’d been drying his hair with still in hand, to see Croft leaning against the wall in the hall. “I wasn’t expecting you for another fifteen minutes or so.” Virgil said as he approached.

Croft looked up from the book in his hand. He briefly glanced at the page number before snapping it shut and picking up his bag. “Apologies, I like to be early.”

Virgil just waved his hand as they fell in step beside each other. “It’s fine. Next time, you don’t have to wait in the hall if I’m not in the shower, you can just sit in the room. As long as you’re quiet, you’ll be fine.”

Croft nodded. “Noted, thank you.”

They made it to the library and sat down, both pulling out books. When Croft gave Virgil a puzzled look, he laughed a bit. “I’ve brought my notes and blank copies of homework to use as practice problems. First, I want to gauge just how bad off you are.” he set down the cumulative final review. “Fill this out to the best of your ability.” Croft set to work, a serious expression on his face. Virgil didn’t want to twiddle his thumbs while waiting so he pulled out his phone and opened it to a new note, beginning to plan out his evening.

Once that was done, he looked up to see Croft with his tongue sticking out slightly, hair in his eyes, and eyes focused on the page. Strangely, there was something beautiful about the concentrated look on his face. Maybe it was the way the sunlight dramatized it and cast his eyes into shadows, making Virgil want to stare until he could see where the iris ended and the pupil began; maybe it was the way his hair framed his face in a way that made Virgil want to pull out a sketchbook.

Feeling self conscious at that thought, he looked back down at his phone and ignored the other student until he heard a pencil connect with the table. “Alright, Storm, I’m done.”

Virgil nodded and slid the page over to himself, quickly checking it against the answer sheet he’d made up. He gave Croft a grade, circled it, and slid it back. A sharp intake of breath came back as Virgil pulled a clean piece of paper closer to himself and began to write down what needed to be worked on.

“Is it really that bad?” Croft’s voice came from Virgil’s side.

He paused in his writing to look up at his former academic rival. He shrugged. “It could be worse. You don’t seem to be too bad off right now and we’re gonna try to get you to where you need to be as soon as possible.”

Croft nodded and away they went. The next few weeks were spent in a new routine. Croft would wait in the hall if Virgil was in the shower but most times Virgil had lost track of time and gone over, resulting in Croft sitting in the corner reviewing definitions. A few times, one of his clubs wouldn’t meet and he’d get out earlier than normal. Those were the times that Croft would sit in and make sure Virgil wasn’t putting too much strain on his ankle and was properly hydrating. Those were the times they’d strike up a bit of witty banter that reminded them of their debates but on a personal level that the debate class was lacking.

One step at a time, they came closer on that meadow until they were standing side by side, leaning on the other. As they grew closer, the meadow rose as if two tectonic plates were pushing it toward the sky. Over the course of that one season, the meadow had become a mountain of a friendship. Their banter began to spread outside of just those rare moments, becoming a constant part of their meetings, tutor sessions, and walks.

It wasn’t long before the summer semester ended and they had a few weeks of vacation before the next semester. As the days shortened and the leaves turned colors, Virgil almost expected Croft to go on his way. After all, the agreement was done. Virgil had finished learning all the moves he’d needed and Croft had passed his classes with the usual flying colors.

Still, tutor sessions turned into chats over coffee, dancing changed to walks in the park, but their late night talks on the way back to their apartment building stayed the same. Virgil enjoyed that constant, knowing that no matter what else happened that day, he could walk back to the apartment building with Croft. It was one such walk that it struck him. In all their time together, he’d gotten closer to Croft and no longer saw him as the academic rival they’d been at the start of the year. Instead, he saw him as a friend, or even more than that.

Just when Virgil was satisfied and comfortable with the balance they’d created together, fate tossed a spark gently onto the mountain. In that instance, the mountain turned into a volcano. In that one instant of time, Virgil had fallen for Logan Croft and he knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t have it any other way. He had no idea how he’d tell him, or even if he would tell him. After all, volcanoes can stay dormant for years before going extinct or erupting. Virgil could just wait and hope it was the former or deal with the latter.

The next few weeks were much the same as that with the exception that Virgil was noticing every little thing that Logan did. He noticed the way he leaned toward Virgil as they talked, the way his focus was entirely on the dancer during conversations. Logan was always walking on Virgil’s left side, the ankle he’d broken mid spring semester that acted up occasionally but especially on stairs. He noticed Logan holding doors for him or smiling at him for no particular reason.

All of this gave Virgil a spark of hope in his chest that had him wondering if Logan liked him back. That spark was almost crushed one afternoon. They had just gotten their coffee and started their usual round about the park when Logan spoke. “I might not be able to do the full rotation today, Storm. I’ve got a date with Roman later.”

Virgil felt like his chest had just been stomped on. “. . . A date?” He didn’t know how he kept his voice steady when his heart was breaking, getting closer and closer to shattering the more he thought about those two words.

Logan tilted his head to the sides. “Maybe ‘date’ is the wrong word for it. It’s more like a meet-up.”

Virgil nodded, pretending he hadn’t been holding his breath through that whole exchange. “Okay, when do you have to leave?”

“About half an hour.” He turned and smiled. “Plenty of time.”

Virgil smiled and walked ahead, turning to face Logan as he walked backwards. Logan shook his head. “That’s not the safest way to travel, you know.”

Virgil just shrugged. “There’s worse ways to travel.” He also got to see the rare grin that spread across the zoology major’s face, not that he would tell said student that.

Their walk in the park ended with them standing at the entrance. “I’ll see you later, Storm.” Logan said by way of parting.

“Wait! Later as in tomorrow or later as in-”

He laughed, something that was even more rare than his grin but something Virgil longed to hear more often. “Later today.” Virgil nodded, walking back to his apartment alone.

On a whim, he grabbed his gym bag, stuffing his dance shoes in it, and went to the studio. He scrolled through his playlist as he entered before just hitting shuffle and letting the music play as he got ready. He waited for the next song and took a second to identify it before throwing his hoodie off and moving to the center of the room.

He went with the music, letting his body flow in whatever way it wanted. Incorporating all the moves he’d learned over the past few months into a cohesive whole that was both as graceful as saplings in the wind but as sharp as the flapping of cloth. He danced to forget his troubles and anxieties, letting them bleed into the movements. A faster song came on and he changed his movements to match, becoming sharper as he let himself get lost in the music, lost to the beat of his feet against the floor, the feeling of the air on his sweat, the feeling of dancing and being free and feeling on top of the world.

When the playlist ended and his muscles were screaming for him to rest, he collapsed onto the floor, panting for breath. When he felt like he could stand, he moved to check his phone clock and found that he’d spent the whole afternoon dancing. Quickly, he showered and made his way back to his apartment. He was still overheated after dancing for a few hours straight so he just had his hoodie slung over his arm, his gym bag over his other shoulder.

He got back to his apartment to see Logan with a fist raised to knock. Smiling, he moved around him and unlocked it. “Come on in.” He dropped his keys in the little bowl on the entrance way table. “I’ve just gotta put this stuff away but it won’t be long.”

Logan smiled, standing comfortably in the entryway. “Take your time, Storm, I’m not going anywhere.”

For a brief moment, Virgil wondered what his first name would sound like in Logan’s voice. He didn’t dwell on it, instead he nodded, ducking into his bedroom to store his bag where it belonged. Taking a second to put on some extra deodorant and move his hair around so it looked semi-styled instead of the mess it was before, he took a deep breath. The scare of losing him that afternoon had made Virgil realize that he needed to act fast before he lost Logan for real.

So, he kept the hoodie across his arm as he went back out and picked up the keys again. “Ready to go?”

Logan nodded. “Quite.”

Virgil held the door open for him, locking it on his way out. They started down the path in relative silence, the only noise being the crunching of gravel beneath their feet and the sounds of life coming from nearby buildings. Virgil was hesitant to break the silence despite the feelings and words bubbling below his surface. Logan also seemed comfortable in the lack of conversation. They made it to a bench that was out of the way and sat on it to stargaze for a bit.

Virgil tilted his head back, resting it on the back of the bench. His eyes scanned the sky, resting on different stars and connecting them into constellations. After another while of silence, Logan shivered beside Virgil and the dancer turned his head, looking at the astronomy major. “Are you cold?” His voice broke the silence like a sheet of ice falling from a slope.

Logan shrugged. “A bit. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Virgil hummed and threw his hoodie over the other. “No use in you getting cold when this is right here.”

Logan didn’t react beyond tilting his head down just the slightest bit. He hummed, taking a breath before speaking. “Apologies again for having to end our afternoon walk early.”

Virgil waved his hand. “It’s fine. In fact, it actually gave me time to think.”

Logan looked over at him, eyes inquisitive behind his square black frames. “What about?”

Virgil took a deep steadying breath of the night air before he turned to face Logan just a bit more on the bench. “About you, actually. I realized something when you said you had a date with Roman.”

Logan nodded, his gaze sharpening as his attention seemed to hone in on Virgil. “Okay.”

Virgil fiddled with the rips in his jeans, suddenly anxious. “I realized that if I didn’t act now, someone else might be walking by your side in the park, laughing with a coffee in hand. Someone else might have the door you knock on late at night when you can’t sleep, be the person you debate with over the phone into the early hours of the morning.” He took another deep breath, not looking up at the wonderful human sitting in front of him, the one who deserved the world. “I realized that I love you and can’t stand the thought of another person getting to hold your hand and kiss you goodnight.” He turned his head so he was staring out into the night rather than at Logan. “There, I said it. I love you. I love you so much my chest aches.”

Logan hummed in a way that Virgil couldn’t interpret before there was the rustling of fabric and Logan was kneeling before Virgil, one hand hovering near the dancer’s cheek. “I’m glad you told me as it makes what I’m going to say much easier.” Virgil’s eyes widened slightly, fearing the next thing to come past Logan's lips.

“I love you too. Honestly, I think I’ve loved you since the start of the fall semester. The way you helped me study, putting things into ways I can understand and bending over backwards to do so. The care you take with everything you do, the grace in your every move, the fire and passion you put into your dancing, I love all of you.”

Virgil couldn’t believe what he was hearing but his nerves settled when Logan’s soft expression didn't change, didn’t turn to a sneer, he didn’t laugh or mock Virgil. Elated, he leaned forward but paused before he could connect their lips. Logan smiled at the quiet ask for consent and leaned in with him, closing the distance and bringing him into a kiss. His hovering hand settled on Virgil’s cheek as Virgil’s hand came up to cradle the back of Logan’s neck, neither wanting to let go.

When they pulled apart, they were both smiling. Logan pulled the hoodie tighter around his shoulders before standing, offering a hand to Virgil to stand as well. An idea came to him and Virgil put his hand in his pocket, pulling his phone out to play a few ballads. “Dance with me under the stars?”

Logan grinned, sliding his hands to be around Virgil’s neck. “I’d love nothing more.”

So, the two did just that, dancing the hour away under the midnight stars. In the arms of the one they loved, the same person who had been their greatest enemy at the start of the year, neither could ask for a better way to spend their time.

#college au #virgil sanders #logan sanders #analogical #roman sanders #ct emile #emile picani #angst with a happy ending #light angst #broken ankle #ace writes #I've had this ready to go for two months now and couldn't wait to post it

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weaselbeaselpants · 3 years

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Weird week behind me weird week ahead of me but I’ve done a lot of self reflection and came to the weirdest epiphany. The older I get the more I realize all my ‘problems’ with VivziePop - her thoughts on criticism; the choices she makes in story telling; some of the people she’s worked with (not that any of that’s my business; I’m not her mom) really aren’t about Viv, but more about her fandom.

I’m speaking of the preHazbin era Viv here and as someone who’s only watch horny fish jump at the surface rather than jump straight into the Hazbin-fandom, but given my ‘noncritical’ fellow fans have told me that the Vivziefandom now is also terrible - I guess I’ll go over my experience and make the most out of what I do know.

I followed Viv in 2009 and fell off in 2013 cause I kinda just lost interest and found myself wrapped up in other fandoms. I’ve always felt amicable about her content; I could give or take designs or the way in which she wrote characters -- ((Zech represent!!!)) but it’s honestly surreal and really fun seeing this person I recognize make it big and improve so much. Like I’ve said before I am very happy and very impressed with Viv doing all she’s done in the span of TWO YEARS. wow gurl.

Trouble is, there was the particular breed of fan who really made me...uncomfortable. They felt almost possessive of Viv’s attention. They sang praises about her work in a way that just made me want nothing to do with it because I was worried if I drew those characters these people would be like ‘hey, I’M Viv’s fav artist, not you!”. They would unironically write Viv messages like:

“you are a GOD” -- “I’m so not worthy compared to you” --“I wish I was as talented as you” -- “YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND CAN’T DO WRONG VIV”.

The kind of messages which were meant to sound flattering but, intentional or not, came off as gaslighting, like they were guilt tripping Viv about being better than them. This behavior, treating your favorite artist/internet personality like your superior and groveling like Starscream, it strikes a nerve with me; partly because I was this way with my favorite artists and influences back in the day, but also because once I got a taste of that treatment myself I realized just how bad it could be:

There was once a girl on dA who was jealous of me because of the attention I got on my art instead of her. I told her that I wasn’t gonna stop drawing but also that there was nothing wrong with her art and she’d find her place. It was weird being put in that position where someone is very clearly upset at you but also looking for your approval.

The second was some scumball who I blocked in 2016. He wouldn’t speak to me, only write condescending, backhanded comments on my art; check on my profile daily; call me a bootlicker (cuz I took commissions) behind my back; redrew my art and would talk about me in his personal artist notes about how I ‘probably wouldn’t see this’ - oh yeah all the while he did fan art of my characters but again never spoke to me when I replied. When I finally messaged him about his behavior he said he thought I was “really overrated” and “bad for the fandom” cuz I took money and kept him from getting the love he deserved. It took messaging another person within our fandom, one I had been in spats with online before, to finally realize I shouldn't put up with that bs....

That guy who was stalking me btw did so while I was well under 1.K watchers and am still pretty obscure. Anyway, I had one guy unhealthily watching me for the wrong reasons. Just one. This is why when Viv says she “hates creeps” I 150% believe this woman and am not about to call her a liar who just can’t take criticism. Like, if you really think that, I’m sorry but you don’t know what Viv’s gone through from both her critics AND fans.

Of course, a lot of people will be like “I bet you’re just jealous and really just want that kind of attention yourself so you’re preaching to the choir”, but like...no. I am envious of just about any creator who’s the social butterfly I’m not, but, like, if I'm jealous of an artist none of that is that artists’ fault. Ever. It’s my own issues with being comfortable with myself are at stake. If I criticize Viv’s work it’s not because I see her as competition or my Squilliam Fancyson; it’s because I’m a critical fan of animation and cartoons and have my own thoughts to share on the cartoons of an artist I’m familiar with. Jealousy/envy/mixed-admiration/godIwishthatwereme.jpeg feels are totally natural and valid emotions when you’re a creator. Envy becomes a problem when you internalize, weaponize, and scrutinize people on the basis of them being what you aren’t which -yes - some people do in the name of criticism. ((Although, I would hardly say some of the nastiest AntiViv folk are jealous as much as they are angry that this project they think is harmful is getting attention and using that as justification for some really shitty behavior of their own, which no, this post is not a part of by virtue of coming from a critical fan.))

Critique can come from either a good place or bad place; good critique can be used to bad ends and bad critique can come from a well-meaning place, and vice versa. It’s the difference between many a criticalfan having a sour taste in their mouth regarding the Viv’s base but persisting in a critique+admiration separate of that, and this asswipemonster trying to weasel his way into Spindlehorse while also bashing Viv on a public forum for clearly vitriolic reasons. He was a creep.

So yeah um please stop insisting that every Hazbin critic is just jealous’ because a) there are people who have a past with Viv’s base and that clouds their judgement, but in a lot of cases that doesn’t invalidate their feelings or thoughts on her work separate from that, and b) I’ve seen what clingy gaslighting jealous fans are. Spoiler: they’re not so much Annie Wilkes as much as they are Tommy Wiseaus. You don’t want Tommy Wiseau following you.

Another bad vibe I really picked up on that I can kinda confirm is still probably the case now: people think that they know Viv and the Spindlehorse crew and have the right to send them shit they don’t need or WANT to be seeing.

Like, I talked with Viv once ages ago. I don’t remember what I said other than we were talking about Frankenweenie, I think. She was nice. Outside of that she said “thank you” to my comments on her deviations but that’s it. I DO NOT KNOW THIS WOMAN AND unless you’ve worked with or are a legit friend/mutual of hers, NEITHER DO YOU. But I don’t think every Vivzie stan/critic knows this. Whether it be people assuming she MUST think they’re headcanon is now canon-canon cuz she liked a comment they made; or some critic thinking they must have seriously hurt her pride because they’ve been blocked by her on twitter (or you know, maybe she and the rest of Spindlehorse is tired of getting @s and don’t have to time to read through your analysis so they’re gonna just block and move on cuz they’re busy).

Just because the creators talk with fans doesn’t mean fans are literally their best friends and have a part in the show’s direction. And yes, critics and reviewers fit that bill as well. Know your damn boundaries people.

If you find/make some kind of contribution as a viewer that’s awesome but you should never expect nor DEMAND the creator see it. The most obvious horror stories involving this and Helluva/Hazbin have been the Instagrams made by the crew being harassed by incestpedo enthusiasts, but it applies even to just @ing creators as well.

I’ve seriously had someone tell me to just take my criticisms directly to Viv and like...no. Why would I do that?

I respect Viv and the artists working with her enough to know that they’re working their asses off on an animated series and should not be bothered. I don’t want them to stop all they’re doing and reply to me. I want them to keep working. Also, that kind of logic makes me wonder how many critics Viv’s found because she found it on her own or if some obsessed fan told her about it - which is really messed up cuz if it IS just good critique you’re, again, just pestering her, and if it wasn’t critique but full on harassment WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MESSAGE HER ABOUT THAT ANYWAY? I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded that people drew and said really awful shit about her on Tapatalk. My point being I’m sure what people think they’re doing is

“OOOoh Viv lookitwut this person is doing in our fandom we need to ban together against this toxic behavior”

but what they’re actually doing, and sounding like, is -

“Hey Viv I know you are working so hard on the show and you’re trying to figure out where to go from here but LOOKITWHUTTHISHATERSAID. LOOKATIT! VALIDATE ME VIV AND PUT’EM IN THEIR PLAAAAAACE!”

TL;DR Viv’s fanbase back in the day consisted of everyman artists and interests but there was this one breed of fan -who I hope was just a vocal minority- that ruined it for everything else.

Call it stanning or ‘simping’ or as it’s classically known, ‘white knighting’, whatever it was it really soured a lot of people on her because of those fans.

That’s why the DollCreep drama got so bad from what I can tell. Doll and Viv had a falling out and then called out eachother online where people who took it upon themselves to speak for them starting throwing mud.

Back in the day I remember Viv used to get mad at artists for ‘stealing’ her style. I think this attitude from Viv directly has vanished but I remember it happening because one of the people she thought was stealing her style did art for me at some point and they were basically shamed/chased off deviantART by a gaggle of these really nasty Vivfans.

inb4> “VIV WAS AWARE AND STILL WEAPONIZES HER FANS THO”

I don’t know that. And honestly, where I’m inclined to believe she’d do something like that then I think Viv is really different and has improved her business and public image from her college days. I’d be very disappointed in her if she was pulling a Butch Hartman or Derek Savage, but I just don’t think she is one, k?

Viv is more self critical and aware than any of these uber protective-gatekeeping fans give her credit for. She said on the Pizzapartypodcast that she knows the Hazbin pilot wasn’t perfect; she’s been able to identify the problems with old Zoophobia; this woman knows that criticism of all kinds need to exist and from what I see she sounds like she’s trying to get used to that. It’s just, you know, when you have nasty antis badgering you, stalkers, obsessive yes-mam’ fans, opinionated shit posters, r34 artists, entitled shippers and the NDAs of a company alongside your own branded image - all that negativity, even the constructive bits, tend to clump together and you just want to scream at it so you can finish the damn cartoon already!!!!

TL;DR: PART TWO

VivziePop/mind is basically indie Tim Burton. Her work is fun, shallow and made with love but is marketed as being for everyone when it’s really not. Parts of it I love to watch; parts of it drives me crazy cuz of reasonswhatev this isn’t a review.

BUT any fanbase where people tell me I should just “expect what’s coming to me” when I’m trying to argue against dragging creators into fandrama is troubling. People have a parasocial bond with fandoms and their creators and they need to learn when to back off.

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critical #critical fandom #I'm sorry to all the people I messaged n bothered over the past year bout my stupid thoughts #tw: stalker

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walkerwords · 3 years

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“The Savior Sessions” Part 29 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: While Daryl and the others are fighting their way through Alpha’s trap, the reader comes face to face with their fear as Beta enters Alexandria.

Word Count: 4826

Warning: Swearing, Violence

Song I Wrote To: “Seven Nation Army” by The White Stripes

Note: So, this scene is a bit different. Judith is not in Alexandria at the moment as she’s with her mom in Hilltop. I am not removing Michonne from the story like she is in the show. So, this fight is gonna play out a bit different!

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Arriving back home in Alexandria, Enid words followed you.

She was right, Lydia should not have been out there alone and it would be your fault if she got hurt or worse, fell back into the hands of her mother.

Even as you walked down the darkening streets of Alexandria, there was a part of you that didn’t care if Alpha took more lives and that terrified you. You loved your friends, your family, but if collateral damage was necessary for Beta and Alpha to die, then so be it.

The bitter taste in your mouth followed you as you walked towards home. When you noticed Rosita pacing outside the cell, you slowed.

“What are you doing?” you asked. Rosita looked up at you and then walked forward wrapped her arms around you.

Confused, you hugged her back before letting go. “Ro?” you asked again.

“Sorry, I’m just… A lot has been happening,” she said.

“Like what? I wasn’t gone that long.”

“Gamma is here,” Rosita said, gesturing towards the cell.

“What?” you asked, glancing towards the small window.

“She arrived earlier, said she wants to help us,” Rosita said.

“And you believe her?”

“I don’t know. That’s why she’s locked up,” Rosita explained.

“You think she’s another spy?”

“No,” Rosita said, shaking her head. “Though, I don’t know what to do with her. I keep thinking about when Dwight switched sides.” Nodding, you understood where she was coming from. Dwight had given you valuable information that helped you win the war against Negan and his men.

“Dwight had someone he cared about pushing him forward,” you reminded her. “Sherry was everything to him.”

“Gamma has her nephew,” Rosita reminded you and you knew she was right. Earl had taken in the Whisperer baby after Connie had saved him from his mother abandoning him in the sorghum field.

“Is Adam enough?” you asked.

“I hope so,” Rosita said. “I don’t know if we can win this fight without her help.”

“Is that willingness I hear, Espinosa?” you asked.

“It just might be, (Y/L/N),” Rosita countered.

“Well, what does Daryl think? Michonne?”

“Michonne is a bit MIA at the moment. She’s travelling from Oceanside or to Oceanside, I don’t really know. Daryl however, is gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone?” you asked, suddenly concerned.

“He, Jerry, Aaron, Connie, Kelly, Magna, and Carol got a lead on the horde. They went looking for it,” Rosita explained and you could see that she was worried as well. Sighing, you rubbed at your temples. This was why Carol had wanted you home. She needed someone to watch the front lines so she could go find Alpha’s Walkers.

“They should have waited for me,” you said, clenching your fists.

“I think one unstable person is enough,” Rosita mumbled and then realized what she said.

“Nice,” you quipped, storming past her.

“(Y/N)!” Rosita tried, but you kept walking, not wanting to hear what she had to say. You weren’t stupid, you knew that you had been acting irrationally. That much was clear and you could see that when it came down to it, you were not thinking clearly. However, you couldn’t get Beta’s face out of your head.

It would be a cold day in Hell before you let him win. Then again, you felt as if the last decade had been Hell on Earth. Still, you pushed on, ignoring the worried looks of your friends as you headed to your house.

Gabriel was coming out of Rosita’s house as you passed the front steps and he looked as if he was going to say something, but didn’t. Considering how pissed you were, he must have figured it was better to give you a moment alone.

Shoving open your front door, you let it slam behind you. You went straight to your garage. The overhead gaslight illuminated the myriad of maps laid out on your workbench only reminded you of the failure you had experienced when trying to find Negan. Lashing out, you swept your hand across the table, scattering the maps across the map.

Bracing your hands on the table, you struggled to keep it together. “I really need you,” you whispered to the empty room. A single tear dripped onto the old wood and you scrubbed the second from your cheek. Your knees sunk to the floor as you began to feel the loss of him again.

“He’s not dead,” you reminded yourself. “He’s out there.” Even as you encouraged yourself, Negan’s face remained behind your eyes. Negan being alive was the only thing that was keeping you going.

Sitting there on the floor of your garage, you thought back to a conversation you had during the war against the Saviors with the one and only Rick Grimes.

Eight Years Ago…

“Hey, Boss,” you said as you walked into Rick’s house.

“You don’t have to call me that,” Rick said with a small smile.

“Ah, well, it’s a force of habit. You are, in fact, our boss. One that I am more than willing to follow.”

“Well, thank you, (Y/N),” he said.

“So, what’s up?” you asked, hopping up on the counter of his kitchen.

“I need your advice on something,” he said.

“Is this about Dwight?” you asked. “Because if it is, then I have to tell you that I don’t trust the weasel, no matter what he told Daryl.”

“It’s not,” Rick said with a small frown. “It’s about Negan,” he said.

“What about him?”

“Carl thinks that he’s more than we think,” Rick said.

“More than a psychopath who murdered our friends?” you asked, not liking where this is going.

“Carl thinks we can reason with him.”

“And I think that the dinosaurs are going to come back,” you deadpanned. Rick gave you one of his looks, but you weren’t deterred by it. “Come on, Grimes, you don’t actually think that we can resolve all of this by a damn conversation, do you?”

“I want the killing to stop,” Rick said.

“I know, I know,” you said. “I just don’t want you to lose focus.”

“You think I should kill him?” Rick asked, but you paused. Taking a moment, you reviewed everything that had happened since the Satellite Station.

“I think,” you began, “that you should do whatever is necessary to protect our people.”

“What if that doesn’t include killing Negan?” Rick asked.

“Then it doesn’t,” you said with a shrug. “Look, I don’t know the man. I haven’t had the opportunity to actually speak to him or see what’s behind the cocky grin so I can’t speak on his character. I believe in a person’s actions and so far, Negan’s have been horrendous. Do I think that maybe one day he can be a decent person? Yeah, sure. I don’t think anyone is truly lost, but the future is a long ways away and we need to think about surviving now.”

Rick was quiet for a moment before he looked back up at you and nodded. He then reached out and gripped your forearm and you mirrored the movement. “Thanks, Shots,” Rick said, using Carl’s nickname for you.

“I’m always gonna be here, Rick. I ain’t never leaving you behind,” you promised. Rick smiled at you.

“I know,” he said. “You never leave anyone behind. That’s why I love you so much, kid.”

“Not a kid,” you reminded him.

“Shut up and take the compliment,” he said and then you pushed him back. Rick feigned surprised and then pushed you back. The two of you ended up wrestling in the kitchen, laughing the entire time. Regardless of what was to come, you would be by his side as one of his closest friends and that was all that mattered.

--------

A loud thud pulled you from your thoughts.

You waited, listening, and when you heard it again, you grabbed your sword and slipped out the side door, picking up a spare radio on the way.

Pausing out front of your house, you searched the darkness around you. Something felt off and it made your skin crawl. Drawing your blade from its scabbard, you began to walk along the sidewalk, checking around every corner you could find. Your heart was hammering in your chest, but your breath remained steady. You were trying to rationalize that it could have been anything. Maybe a stray animal had gotten in and couldn’t get out. However, there was a part of your brain that knew how ridiculous that was.

You never got this particular feeling unless it was for a good reason, or rather, a bad one.

Slipping in between the houses, you searched darkened windows, checking in on your fellow Alexandrians, but everything seemed to be okay. That is until you came across a specific house. You could hear dull thuds as if someone was redecorating at the odd hour.

Sneaking up to the front window, you peered into the dark living room. Suddenly, a pair of white eyes and a gaping jaw appeared at the window, startling you. As the freshly-turned Walker fought to get to you through the pane of glass, you noticed the slash mark on its throat. One that a very particularly large blade would make.

“Shit,” you swore and pulled your radio as you stumbled back from the house. “Gabriel?” you whispered into the radio as you tried to get your nerve back.

“What is it?” he asked, answering your call.

“Walkers, there are Walkers inside the walls,” you said, finally turning away from the house.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Something’s wrong,” you whispered, looking around. It was then that you noticed a trail of fresh soil on the ground. If you hadn't been trained by the best tracker out there, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. However, the large boot prints in the soil only confirmed the fear in your mind. That fear turned to rage as your eyes began to scan for your target.

For Beta.

“(Y/N),” Gabriel said. “What is going on?” You went to answer him when you had a realization.

“Gamma,” you gasped as you took off running, letting the radio crash to the ground as you ignored Gabriel’s worried tone that crackled over the line. You pushed your legs harder to get to Michonne’s house as quickly as possible.

Throwing yourself down the cement steps, you burst into the jail that had its door broken down. When you beheld what was in front of you, however, you nearly crumbled to the ground. Instead of Gamma, you found Laura on the floor with blood across her face.

Sliding to her side, you grabbed for her face and neck, checking for a pulse. “Laura? Laura, wake up,” you begged. Her eyes opened weekly as she saw your face.

“(Y/N)?” she asked.

“I’m here,” you said, trying to wipe the blood from her face. Her blonde hair was soaked in her own blood as she struggled to stay awake. “It’s going to be okay,” you promised her. As you pulled back your hand, however, they were drenched in red.

“Beta,” she choked out as blood dripped from her lips. “Run,” she said, gripping at your shirt with weak fingers.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said to her as she kept staring into your eyes. “You’re not alone,” you whispered. Gripping her hands tight, you felt her trying to return the favor, but she was too weak. “Where is Gamma?” you asked her.

“Got her out,” Laura said. “Safe… I… Think…” she said just as a tear fell from her eye. “I, I can’t,” she struggled.

“Shh, don’t talk,” you said, trying to soothe her, but you didn’t have any more words of comfort to offer her. How could you tell her everything was going to be alright when he had done this?

“Eugene,” Laura sputtered, choking a bit. “Tell him, thank...you.”

“I will,” you promised as she reached for your face once more before her hand fell to her side and Laura drew her final breath. “No, no, no,” you cried as her pulse dwindled and then stopped altogether. “No!” you yelled, clutching her body to yours. It was as if the world stopped spinning. You knew that there wasn’t a guaranteed amount of time, you knew that and you had to finish it before she came back. There was a universal agreement across all the communities, nobody turned.

Pulling the knife from her belt, you quickly slipped it into the base of her skull, silencing her soul. As you pulled the blade, you fell into her again, hugging her close to you. Your tears mixed in with the dirt and blood on her skin as you clung to her, not ready to let go.

“I’m sorry,” you cried into her neck, holding onto her with dear life. “I’m so sorry.” As sorrow filled you, the anger began to boil over, nearly drowning you. Beta had done this. He had taken yet another person from you and probably enjoyed it too. Laura had been given a second chance after the war and he had stolen her life as if it meant nothing.

Gently placing her down onto the floor of the jail, you shut her eyes with your steady hand. Taking a deep breath, you got to your feet and gripped your sword tight. Looking down at Laura again, you felt your heart breaking, but you ignored the pain and channeled it into fury.

A loud crash came from above followed by a loud grunt. Turning from the body of your dead friend, you ran from the cell just to see Beta run from Michonne’s home, his knives in both his hands.

His large form was even more terrifying than you remembered. Daryl’s voice was in your head as you were reminded of what happened when Beta had fought him, but you weren’t Daryl and now, this was even more personal.

As Beta turned his focus to Rosita’s home, you attacked. Drawing a smaller knife from your boot, you reeled your arm back and threw with all your strength. The knife embedded itself into Beta’s shoulder, making him stumble from surprise. You ran at him with all the speed you had left in you.

Beta turned just as you raised your sword, aiming for his head. Beta ducked, parrying your blade with both of his. He knocked you back, but you returned with a strike aimed at his torso. Beta spun around, knocking you off balance, but you never stopped.

Trading blows back and forth, you finally had another opening and aimed for his throat. Beta blocked once again, leaning in close as your blades scraped against one another. Looking into his eyes, you didn’t show an ounce of fear, but recognition lit up in his eyes as he groaned against the pain in his shoulder.

“You,” he spat, his lips pulling back in a sneer.

“Yeah,” you said. “Me.” Beta roared in anger as he kicked at your stomach, sending you to the ground. Rolling to your feet, you slashed at his leg, cutting into the back of his thigh. Beta stumbled again but remained on his feet. “Did you get my message?” you asked, lowering yourself into a crouch.

He ran at you again, swinging his blades over your head. Ducking just in time, you avoided decapitation. “What did you do with Gamma?” you asked.

“Nothing,” Beta said and then braced himself. “Yet.”

As Beta stalked towards you, all you could think about was Jesus and Tara and Laura and everyone else they had taken from you.

Red encompassed your mind as Beta aimed for your heart. With a quick turn, you pivoted on your right foot, ducked under his arms, and brought your sword up along his back. Your blade bit into his flesh as the leather tore.

Beta yelled out in both pain and alarm as you drew your sword back. He whipped around, landing a blow to your head. You fell to the ground as stars danced in your vision. Beta kicked away your blade as it fell from your hand. Reaching down, he lifted you from the ground and got in your face.

“You are not worth death,” he spat in your face before throwing you against the curb. Your head hit hard and just before the darkness overwhelmed you, you swore you saw Beta smiling.

-------

Negan had no idea what Alpha was up to.

There were cryptic whispers around camp that led him to believe that Alpha had attacked Carol and the others, but he wasn’t sure of anything.

Then there was the Beta problem. Negan had no idea where the human Rottweiler had gone.

Alpha was across from him, staring into the fire and she looked to be waiting for something. Negan wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but whenever she was that calm, it was never good. Just as he was about to speak up and ask her what was going on, her attention snapped to the shadows as Beta finally reappeared.

Negan watched as the second-in-command arrived and he looked rough. Even in the dark, Negan could see that Beta was injured. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t think the Terminator douchebag could get injured, let alone bad enough to warrant a limp.

“Beta,” Alpha greeted as she didn’t move from her spot. Beta stopped before her, kneeling on the leg that seemed to be the less injured one.

“Gamma has betrayed us,” Beta reported. He then noticed that Negan was there, but Alpha kept her attention on her second, not caring about who was listening.

“What happened?” Alpha asked, looking at the fresh blood.

“She was hiding,” Beta said. “I couldn’t find her. These people are protecting her.” Negan had to hand it to Aaron, the man sure did know how to make friends. Negan continued to listen.

“And the blood?” Alpha asked tilting her head to examine the wounds he had sustained. Her fingers threaded through the torn jacket and Negan could see the blood on her hands as she pulled it back. “Yours?” she asked, confused.

“Ambushed,” Beta responded.

“The archer is with Carol,” Alpha said. “Who else could have done this?” she asked. Clearly Alpha thought that Daryl was the only worthy opponent to go up against Beta, Negan thought. However, she had never seen Rosita when she went all “Mama Bear” and Negan hoped that he himself would never be on the other end of one of Espinosa's fists.

“Broadsword,” Beta bit out, the rage echoing out of him like steam on a train. At that one word, Negan’s blood ran cold. He tucked his hands under his legs before either of them could see the small tremor that was sneaking up on him. Negan fought to keep himself from swearing out loud as he put the pieces together.

You had attacked Beta and you had nearly defeated him.

“Are they alive?” Alpha asked casually.

“For now,” Beta said. “I have plans for them. That one, dies by my hand.” Alpha nodded to him and then dismissed him to get his injured taken care of.

“What do you know about this sword-wielder?” Alpha asked him. Negan met her eyes and then relaxed further into the ground, shrugging one of his shoulders. With a lazy look on his face he vaguely waved a hand.

Beta huffed and disappeared back into the camp. Negan watched after him, trying to keep it together. He knew that you had placed your sights on Beta, but now the man was turning his on you and that terrified Negan.

“Absolutely nothing.”

-------

When you woke up, you were in a somewhat familiar room.

An ache in the back of your head made you wince as you tried to sit up.

“I would take it easy if I were you.” Blinking, you turned towards the soft voice to see Enid standing over you. It was then that you realized you were in the medical trailer at Hilltop. “Here,” she said, reaching for your arm. Enid helped you sit up, placing a few pillows behind your back.

“What happened?” you asked, trying to get your mind to stop racing.

“Beta knocked you out pretty hard,” she said with a sigh. “You hit your head and you’ve been out for almost two days.”

“Two days?” you asked.

“Siddiq brought you here to keep you off Beta’s radar,” she explained.

“That won’t last long,” you said with another wince as you rubbed at your temples.

Everything from that night was coming back in waves and it was making you feel a bit nauseous. Emotions swelled in your chest as you remembered the rage you felt when attacking Beta and the sorrow and dread you felt as Laura died in your arms.

Beta had done all of that just to find Gamma. A stranger had brought death back to Alexandria and you now had lost someone who truly understood you.

“Laura’s dead,” you whispered.

“I know,” Enid said, reaching for your hand. You squeezed hers back as you sat in silence.

“Where is she?” you asked. “Where is Gamma?”

“Safe,” a new voice said as Michonne approached you. She was looking at you with concern but also relief.

“Good,” you said, nodding. If Gamma had been taken or killed, all those lives lost the night Beta stalked Alexandria would have been for nothing. “I’m glad you’re here,” you said to Michonne.

“We’re all here,” Judith’s voice piped up as she appeared behind her mother.

“Hey, you,” you said, reaching out a hand to her. Judith walked forward and took your hand in hers. “I almost got him, kid. I was pretty damn close,” you promised her. Judith nodded as Michonne placed her hands on her shoulders.

“There’s something else, (Y/N),” Michonne said.

“What’s wrong?”

“Daryl’s missing.” You fell back into your pillows at the news and you fought the urge to scream. You didn’t know how much more of this you could handle. It was starting to look as if Alpha may win and that made you want to beat her that much more.

--------

Holding a mask made from Walker skin was the last thing Negan expected to receive from Alpha.

"You've earned it," Alpha said as she stood next to him. Standing next to her, he could see the blood that streaked her clothing. Something had happened when she went off on her own hours before. Negan figured she had been in a fight, but he couldn’t be sure who she had gone up against.

He did know that it wasn’t you. Beta was someone who would be a challenge for you, but Negan had a feeling that if you got Alpha one on one, she wouldn’t be standing next to him right now. No, this was someone else. Trying not to think about any of it, he returned to what was in his hands.

"Why?" Negan asked, not liking the way the leathery skin felt against his calloused hands.

"You were right about Gamma," Alpha said. She then stepped forward and ran her hand down his arm. "She was the spy. You proved yourself to me."

"All I did was share my opinion," Negan pointed out as he met her eyes. Alpha was examining him and Negan knew what she wanted. His hand slipped into his pocket to rub along the marble, keeping his connection to you.

"You showed me that you want this. You are a crass man, but a smart one. The mask proves my loyalty to you as your words proved it to me."

"Well alright then," Negan said with a small smile. With a shake of his head, Negan pulled on the mask and secured it behind his head.

He could appreciate the irony, the act of putting on a mask when he was already wearing one. As soon as it was in place, Alpha reached up and ran her hands over his new face.

"Perfect," she whispered. Negan stared down, afraid of what he may have to do in order to keep his cover. He had done a lot of shitty things in his life, but sleeping with the enemy was not something he was eager to do, not when he still yearned for you and your touch.

The way that you lay your hands on his skin was as if you were searching for solidity kept him sane. He was your rock, grounding you into this world just as you were his. Without you, Negan wouldn't want to survive and he just hoped you hadn't lost that love you held for him because he sure hadn't.

“Since we are trading trade secrets and all,” Negan began, causing Alpha to stop looming over him. “I had another idea.”

“Go on,” she said.

“I know you are all about destroying everyone and proving you’re the alpha female. Though it’s not like you need to, you are the damn Alpha.”

“Your point?” she pressed.

“How about we get them to join us?” Negan offered. “You were right when you said that these places with their walls and doors don’t last very long. I’ve seen many kingdoms fall since this whole shit show started and trust me, it’s only a matter of time. However, we get them to see how much better the way we live is…” Negan splayed his hands. “I’m just saying it would be something to think about.”

Alpha was silent for a moment, thinking over his words. Negan was just hoping that she didn’t see the true intentions behind this sudden epiphany. The truth was, after Beta had admitted that you had done some serious damage, Negan was not eager for Alpha to exterminate you and your family.

“What did you have in mind?” Alpha asked finally. Adjusting the mask on his face, Negan grinned at her.

“I have some ideas.” Alpha raised her eyebrow at that but gestured for him to keep talking. “First, we’re gonna need a big ass tree.”

-------

Enid had finally cleared you and you were eager to get back on your feet.

Walking out into the bright sunshine, Hilltop was bustling around you. You felt as if you had the worst hangover in history, but you pushed on. Dianne was on watch, Alden was over at his blacksmithing station, and you could see Ezekiel over at Barrington speaking to Kelly who looked distraught.

Aaron spotted you then and jogged over. “Hey, you’re okay,” he said, grabbing you into a hug.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” you said, pushing him back. “What happened while I was out?” you asked, gesturing to Kelly. Aaron sighed, running his hand through his curls.

“Alpha, she trapped us in this cave full of Walkers. Her entire horde was down there,” he said. “We managed to find the exit, but…”

“But what?” you pressed.

“Carol tried to take out the horde with some old dynamite,” he said. “The explosion caused part of the cave to collapse.” The look on Aaron’s face told you enough.

“Who?”

“Magna and Connie are trapped down there and we don’t know if they’re even alive,” he said. You hadn’t known Magna that well, but you liked her enough. However, Connie had become someone you turned to at times and you knew how much Daryl cared about her. Not to mention her sister who was her everything. This was too much after just losing Laura and now two more may be down.

“Are you okay?” you asked him.

“Not really,” he admitted. You took him back into your arms, hugging him tightly.

“Me neither,” you admitted, sinking into the embrace.

“Open the gates!” you heard Dianne yell from her spot up top. You and Aaron split apart then and with a look, you both took off towards the main gate.

You let out a breath of relief as you saw who was walking into Hilltop. Daryl and Lydia leaned on each other as the gates shut behind him. Daryl seemed dead on his feet as Lydia struggled with both of their weapons. You ran forward and grabbed the crossbow from her as Aaron took hold of Daryl.

“Daryl fought her,” Lydia said as she breathed heavily. Daryl’s leg was bleeding, and he looked as if he had been run over by the horse and the carriage. Michonne came running behind you, helping Lydia stay on her feet.

“You’re a moron,” you said to Daryl, grabbing at his face. “But I love you.” Daryl snorted and then you were taking his other arm and helping him to Enid. Lydia followed close by as Michonne carried her staff for her. “I’m sorry, Lydia,” you said to her. “I shouldn’t have asked you to go looking.”

“It was my decision,” Lydia defended. “I didn’t find him, but we have a new problem.” You, Aaron, Michonne, and Daryl all looked at her then.

“What is it?” Michonne asked. Lydia grimaced.

“My mother’s coming.”

TAGS: @lucillethings @cameronsails @stark-dreams @amaroho @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @scootankle @ritajammer21 @writteriguess @tea-atfive @jennydehavilland @waspyyy @yespleasejayhalstead @hoemadegrace @writingdeadangel @huffledor-able541 @pulplorrd @felicisimor

#the walking dead #walkerwords #twd imagines #the walking dead imagines #twd #negan imagine #reader insert #savior sessions #the walking dead imagine #twd imagine

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thedannyphantomcookbook · 3 years

Text

The Phantom Origins

Okay, so I know probably a bunch of people have already done this, but I wanted to rewrite Danny Phantom, from just before he got his powers to maybe when he tells his parents.

I’m tired of waiting for a reboot that may never come, so here is what I picture the reboot would look like.

I’ve always thought it would be darker and more horrific, that the ghosts he fights are more monstrous and demonic.

That there would be a little bit more of a medical concern for Danny’s humanity being affected by his ghost half. Is he becoming more ghost like? Is he gradually getting sicker and sicker, and his ghost DNA ravages through his body like cancer?

Would Vlad be not only a sexist, creepy, abusive old man, but contains a thirst for deception and power that he poses a real, apocalyptic threat on Earth and the ghost zone?

Are ghosts actually the spirits of the dead? Or are they a different breed of human that lives in a completely separate dimension, that’s is layered and hidden within ours?

What about Danny’s mental health. He has to keep this big secret from his parents because he absolutely FEARS what would happen if they found it to the point he’s scared they wouldn’t believe he was their son and try to kill him as a result, or keep him hostage in the basement, slowly torturing him and dissecting him until he’s dead? What would the world think of him? A prophet? A demon? Would they accuse his parents for experimenting on their own children? He would have so much fear and anxiety that he’d have to be on edge all the time, falling into depression, panic attacks - not to mention the PTSD he’d get from it all while battle nightmarish monsters and the hanging question over his head of what he is now.

These are just SOME of the questions I’ve had that Butch Hartman will never answer. He set up such a great plot and characters but carried it out pretty poorly over the show (which may or may not be his fault since they wanted to keep it kid friendly.)

I hope to get into the deep and dark and nitty gritty details of Danny Phantom we’ve imagined but never get to see. I wrote the first chapter below, and I plan to write much more. :)

I hope you guys enjoy it!

Follow me over at Ao3

Summary:

Dr. Madelyn Fenton and her husband, Dr. Jackson Fenton, have just built the world's first portal to the Ghost Zone - an alternate dimension where undead linger for all eternity. The only problem is no one believes in what they are doing. The townspeople call them the Fenton Freaks and the rejection letters from the National Science Foundation are piling up. Not even their own children can tolerate their ghost obsession. Their 14 year old son, Danny, does what he can to separate himself from his parents. Mocked by his peers and judged by his teachers, he keeps his head down and stays out of the spotlight.

It comes as no surprise to Danny when his parents' machine fails to work on the first test run. Discouraged, they leave empty handed for the weekend to go to the Ghost Hunter's Expo, where they were expected to present their portal during their panel. As soon as his parents leave, Danny invites his friends over to give a tour of yet another one of his parents' failed experiments. When he gets dared to walk inside the machine, he triggers something that turns it back on, and for the first time ever, his parents have an invention that works. But that's the least of the surprises when Danny emerges from the portal himself...

To Whom It May Concern,

To the esteemed members of the National Science Foundation, myself, Dr. Madelyn Fenton, PhD., and my husband, Dr. Jackson Fenton, PhD., write to you today to consider us for the New Exploratory Scientific Research Grant Award. Our combined decades worth of research within paranormal scientific research fields have led us to believe that the “ghost” entities that haunt our very Earth, could in fact be the missing link to creating new technology, curing human illnesses, and prolonging human life on Earth.

The term “ghosts” is defined as a religious or spiritual being, or the hypothetical soul of the human body, separated from physical forms, usually that of a person recently deceased. Dr. Jackson Fenton and myself have a different theory about the “ghostly” entities that visit our Earth. We have sufficient evidence to prove that ghosts are in fact not the spirits of the dead, but an entirely new species of the human race. We believe they exist in an alternate dimension - a separate plane of existence that is not unlike ours. Recent developments have also shown the possibility of dimensional travel - we believe ghosts are able to pass through into our plane of existence for a temporary amount of time. Through our rigorous research, construction, and experimentation, Dr. Jackson Fenton and myself have created what would be a “portal” to this plane of existence, to the “Ghost Zone.” By exploring and studying the ghost zone, we could collect a limitless amount of research and data that could be used to benefit humanity for the rest of our existence.

We have provided within our application our twenty years of research and development, along with video recordings of our experiments as evidence of our work in progress, as we humbly request your consideration for the New Exploratory Scientific Research Grant Award.

Sincerely,

Dr. Madelyn Fenton, PhD. in Quantum Physics and Paranormal Studies

Dr. Jackson Fenton, PhD. in Theoretical Science and Paranormal Studies

From the Grants and Admissions Office of the National Science Foundation

To Dr. Madelyn Fenton and Dr. Jackson Fenton,

Thank you for your interest in applying for the New Exploratory Scientific Research Grant Award. The New Exploratory Scientific Research Grant Award (NESRGA) is an esteemed scholarship opportunity that looks to provide funding for ground-breaking scientific research to scientists working within small and local laboratories. After carefully reviewing your application and research, we have come to the regretful decision to decline your request to receive the NESRGA.

We unfortunately could not approve your request due to the following issues:

Insufficient or lack thereof evidence or proof of scientific research of ghostly entities and/or undiscovered species, the “Ghost Zone” dimension in which these entities exist, or possible travel to said “Ghost Zone.”

Insufficient of lack thereof peer review research and laboratory data.

Paranormal entities and alternative dimensional research is not recognized under the National Science Foundation as factual scientific work.

We are thrilled to hear that you share such enthusiasm, passion, and ambition in the pursuit of scientific exploration, research and development. You are a part of a wonderful community, and through your tireless efforts, you will help bring our Earth into the future.

We welcome you to apply for the NESRGA again next year.

Sincerely,

Barbara Keaton,

Director of Grants and Admissions

National Science Foundation

GHOST HUNTERS EXPO - THIS LABOR DAY WEEKEND

To Drs. Maddie and Jack Fenton,

We are excited to have you return to speak at the Ghost Hunters Expo this coming labor day weekend. We have reviewed your Ghost Zone Theory and we anticipate your presentation of your research.

Please note: due to new regulations we cannot allow the following into the convention center:

Ecto-infused food, inanimate objects, or animal mutations of any kind.

Alarm or defense systems that release a form of knock out gas, ectoplasmic goo, ectoplasmic foam, spoiled meats, or live rodents. All alarms and defense systems must be turned off while inside the convention center.

Samplings or gifts of homemade cookies or other food, beverages, or gifts to bribe the judges.

Disclosed weapons that are not a part of your presentation and/or not approved by the convention prior (we will have metal detections at all entry points of the convention hall)

Asking for audience volunteers unless approved by us prior your scheduled presentation time.

Ghost claims targeted towards convention guests, judges, or other presenters.

All presentations and inventions must have been tested and approved by a judge prior to your presentation time (i.e. no last minute or surprise inventions).

Fighting or displays of physical aggression.

Destruction of convention hall equipment, the building’s foundation itself, or other presenters equipment and or inventions.

We thank you in advance for your compliance and full understanding of the new regulations.

We look forward to seeing you!

Best,

Trevor Martin

Ghost Hunters Expo Coordinator

“Did you see this?” Jack Fenton asked, waving the notice from the Ghost Hunters Expo. He scoffed. “New regulations...I wonder who were the bimbos that made them enforce these rules.” He crumbled up the notice and threw it carelessly on the floor.

“How’s that portal coming, sweet cheeks?” he asked his wife.

Maddie Fenton was deep within a hexagon shaped chamber carved out of her laboratory converted basement wall. The interior was lined with a colorful array of wires and tiny blinking lights. At the end of the chamber, sheets of metal and hardware fanned in on itself. Maddie was kneeled on the floor, wrestling with a few cords.

“I’m just struggling to connect these last couple of wires,” she answered, pinching the two cords together. With a last bit of strain, the cords connected with a satisfying click.

Wiping the sweat off her brow, she came out of the chamber. “Hopefully that will stabilize the gravitational pull of the Ghost Zone once we get the portal running.” She briefly thought back to a dark memory from their college days when their first Ghost Zone prototype had malfunctioned and the toxins from the Ghost Zone leaked out of the portal, resulting in displacing one of her lab partners for the remainder of their college career.

“We got it this time, baby,” Jack said confidently. “There is no way we could make the same mistake twice.”

Maddie sighed as she walked over to the control panel to record the ecto-readings. “I just wish we knew for certain what had gone wrong that day. All of this guess work is driving me crazy.” She picked up her notebook and briefly reviewed her meticulously hand written notes before adjusting some dials.

“Okay,” she huffed, satisfied. “I think we’re ready for a test run.”

Jack clapped his hands. “Excellent! I’ll go grab the kids!” He ran to the basement steps and shouted, “Jazzy-pants! Danny! Get down here!”

A few minutes later both of their teenage children shuffled down the basement steps.

“Is this gonna take long?” Danny asked, disinterestedly. “Tucker and I were in the middle of planning our next battlefield strategies for Doomed. There’s only a few days left of summer vacation and we still have so much planning to do if we want to beat the other online players and achieve the seven Keys of Destiny.”

“And I was in the middle of an important breakthrough in my self therapeutic psychology research,” their daughter, Jazz promptly stated. In her hands she clutched an open copy anxiety and phobias workbook. “Did you know that high functioning anxiety in adulthood is caused by childhood trauma from never feeling safe in your own home? This would explain so much about me and Danny -” she paused in her speech when she saw the machine her parents were working on.

“Oh, no.” She snapped her book shut and pinched the flesh between her eyes. “ Please do not tell me you called us down here to witness another one of your experiments. Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

“Oh, Jazz, relax,” Maddie said, waving her off. “Those burn marks from the last ectoplasmic gun experiment healed eventually. And look!” She walked over to a closet in the back of the room and pulled out two polyester jumpsuits. “We made you both your own custom fitted, lab safe, jumpsuits!”

Jack appeared beside Maddie. “And we matched them with ours! Jazzy-pants, yours is teal to match your mother’s. And Danny, yours would have matched mine but the store didn’t have orange.” he held out a plain white jumpsuit with black gloves and boots.

“And I haven’t even shown you two the best parts!” he grabbed the jumpsuits from Maddie and spun them around. Crudely pressed onto the fabric of the jumpsuit was a cutout of Jack Fenton’s smiling face, emblazoned on the chest.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Jack grinned.

Jazz was the first to respond. “Dad there is no way you’re going to get me to wear that,” she said while backing away and shaking her head. “How about Danny and I will just go upstairs and you can call us down after you’ve tested it? That way we’ll be safe and not have to wear those hideous jumpsuits.”

Danny silently agreed with her while struggling to conceal his own disgust at the suits. It was one thing to be forced to wear a jumpsuit like his parents but it was an entirely different level of lame to have to wear his father’s face across his chest. What if his parents insisted he wore it all the time, like they did? Involuntary images of him becoming the laughing stock at his new high school was surfacing in his mind, more than he already was for being the son of the city’s eccentric ghost hunting husband and wife team. He was already struggling to stay above the pathetic nerd social ring in his class. They’d have to create an entirely new category of nerd just for him if he wore that suit. The thought of it made him want to crawl away in a hole and be left there to die.

“Mom, Dad, I have to agree with Jazz,” Danny said. “The suits are kinda...lame.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Maddie dismissed. “These jumpsuits are the latest fashion that every ghost hunter wants.”

“And when we reveal these babies with my face on them, everyone will be scrambling for one. We’ll be rich!” Jack stated proudly.

Jazz snorted. “Um, I somehow doubt that. Look, we’ll just go back upstairs and you two can let us know when it’s safe, okay?” She looped a hand around Danny’s arm and started pulling him away.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Jack clamped a hand on both of them and spun them back around. “You two are being given the chance to witness scientific history! And we are not going to let you pass up on this.” He tossed the jumpsuits to Jazz and Danny. They unwillingly caught them.

Jazz glowered at Danny. “If you take any photos and post them on the internet, I will kill you.”

Danny held out his suit reproachfully. His dad’s smiling face seemed to be laughing at him, like all of the students as Casper High will be if they ever found out about this.

“Don’t worry about it.”

A few minutes later, Jazz and Danny stood alongside their parents in their matching jumpsuits. Jazz stood with her arms crossed, silently fuming, her foot tapping impatiently. At her mother’s insistence, Jazz was forced to tuck in her long, red hair and wear the hair sealing head cover and thick, dark eye protection goggles that came with it. At equal height, Jazz and Maddie were identical in their suits.

At least Danny couldn’t match his dad. Jack’s suit was bright orange and about twenty sizes larger than Danny’s, due to his father’s obsession with Maddie’s homemade fudge and cookie inventions. Danny’s own white suit was slightly too large for him, and hung in odd places due to his skinny frame. He didn’t have to wear a hood and goggles like his sister either - another thankful shortage from the ghost hunter’s clothing warehouse. He picked at his dad’s pressed on face design on his chest as he waited for his parents to get the machine ready for its test run. His dad had tried ironing it on, but had done it poorly, so that with a bit of a tug, it was already beginning to peel off.

Jack and Maddie Fenton ran back and forth across the lab, double checking last minute calculations. Machines whirred and beeped around them, the hum of electricity warm in the stagnant air.

Danny had a good idea of how this was going to go. If this would be like any of their past experiments, it would fail miserably. The experiment would go haywire, probably spout ectoplasmic goo everywhere or accidentally giving ecto energy to the nearest food item. One year, their parents had tried making the Christmas Turkey in their newly invented Ultra-fast Instant Pot and instead infused it with demonic ghostly energy and reanimated it. Danny remembered hiding underneath the kitchen table as Jazz had to beat it back with a pastry roller, screaming for their parents.

The ghost zone portal was their most ambitious project yet. For most of Danny’s life, they had dinner table discussions, weighing mathematical equations and scientific chemical balances in hopes of being able to one day engineer the world’s first ghost zone portal. He was fairly surprised when he found out at the beginning of the summer that they were finally constructing it, and even more so when they claimed last night it was completed. They had been rushing to get it done in time to present it at the Ghost Hunters Expo this weekend.

He glanced at the table beside him looking at the pile of papers his dad had haphazardly stacked among the beakers and ghost weapons. Sitting on top of the stack was the rejection letter from the National Science Foundation.

“It means that they don’t think what they’re doing is science,” Jazz had interpreted for Danny after reading it when their parents’ back was turned. “And who could blame them? There is zero evidence supporting the existence of ghosts. It’s just superstition.”

That’s all it was. Superstition. And yet, his parents had at some point in their youth latched on to the idea that ghosts were more than a myth, and even though they’ve never actually seen one in person themselves, they were determined to prove ghosts were real. What amazed Danny the most is the amount of people who also believed in the same theory. In the years past when his parents had dragged him and Jazz to the Ghost Hunter’s Expo, the crowds always seemed to grow bigger and bigger. Scientists, hunters, enthusiasts, and even ghost cosplayers gathered under the same roof for a full weekend, exchanging theories, stories and footage of what they thought were ghosts. The most ridiculous rumor he had heard at the last ghost hunter’s convention was one of a young, blue haired female musician, who became an overnight sensation after one performance at a local carnival. She had also disappeared quite suddenly after the performance, which raised a lot of speculation. Ghost hunters claimed her unusually pale skin and hypnotic vocals were a part of her ghostly powers. Jazz had stated that it was simply because she was a successful female in the patriarchy they had to deem her as a ghost to explain it.

Danny didn’t want to say anything else after that.

“Jack,” Maddie called from across the room, typing away at a computer. “Did you remember to pour in the ecto-purifier?”

“On it, baby!” Jack cried while fumbling with a control panel. Danny watched as grabbed a can of diet cola, which sat next to the similar sized gray cylinder labeled “EP.”

“Uh, Dad?” Danny called. “I don’t think that’s the ecto-purifier.”

“What’s that?” Jack asked. He turned to look at the object in his hand and barked out a chuckle.

“Thanks, son! That was a close one.” He placed the can of diet cola down and picked up the correct cylinder. “Who knows what would have happened if we purified the toxic ghost energies with diet cola. Could you imagine?” He poured the bright green liquid into the appropriate chamber.

In the corner of his eye, Danny saw Jazz shake her head. “Idiot,” she whispered.

Jazz believed she was the only mature Fenton in the family. At some point during her high school career, she had decided it was up to her to convince her parents that ghosts were not real, and to force them to change their careers to something more normal or socially acceptable. She had tried to get them interested in just about any other scientific field she could think of, such as deep sea diving to discover creatures living on the ocean floor, to NASA’s space engineering program. When those didn’t work, she tried to build a case proving the psychological damage they were causing to her’s and Danny’s upbringing. Over the summer, when she wasn’t preparing herself for the SATs she’d have to take later that school year, she poured over every psychological book she could get her hands on from the library. No matter how many times she argued about the permanent damage her parents were inflicting on their amygdala by creating an unsafe environment for her and Danny to grow up in, their parents would say it’s all worth it for the sake of scientific advancement.

Danny tried desperately to stay out of their fights. Most days, he was too focused on trying to survive a day without being called “that ghost geek” by his peers, no matter how many times he told his classmates he didn’t believe in his parents’ work. Maybe it was because of his small, bony limbs that made it so easy for his classmates to mock him. Or the fact that his only two friends in the entire world were also considered a variety of nerd within the social climate. His best friend Tucker was a little too obsessed with the latest technology and his other friend, Samanatha - Sam for short - was the only school’s goth girl, who filled her entire personality and outlook with dark and depressing outfits and literature. In a weird way, it did make sense that the girl who loved to read about the dead, and the boy who loved technology, would want to be friends with the kid whose parents called themselves ghost scientists. Still, they were his best friends and he wouldn’t trade them for anyone else.

He had been telling them about the portal his parents were building all summer. Just like he was, his friends were also doubtful it would work. They deliberated about what the inventions would actually do. Tucker still brought up the time Danny’s parents were testing out an anti-ghost gravity spray, to temporarily make a ghost lose their flight ability. The morning they were testing it out, Danny had woken up in a hovering bed. It had shocked him so much, he fell off his bed and face-planted onto his bedroom floor, breaking his nose. At some point, Tucker and Sam started placing bets about the outcome.

“Maybe the portal will just blast a hole through the wall and you’ll send up in the Amity Park Sewer System,” Sam guessed last night after he told them his parents were getting ready for their first test.

“Bet you five bucks that Danny will lose all of his hair this time,” Tucker had joked.

He absentmindedly ran a hand through his exposed hair and briefly wished he had a head cover and goggles like Jazz. He couldn’t help but notice there was something different about his parents this time. They didn’t have the same, bubbly and excited energy they usually had when showing off a new invention. They seemed more focused this time. Even his dad’s goofy banter towards Maddie had taken a back seat as his dad frowned over the controls. It was weird to see his dad actually concentrating. Maybe it was the hundredth rejection letter they received from the National Science Foundation, or the pressure to present this weekend at the Expo, but it seemed like they were seriously trying to make this thing work. They did not want to fail.

“Okay everyone!” Maddie ran over and started waving her hands. “Backs up against the wall.”

Jazz sighed and turned to walk over to stand behind the boxed in yellow line, the “safe” spot in the lab. Danny thought a metal containment center with a viewing screen would have kept them safer, but supposedly his parents didn’t have time to build one. Danny followed his mother and sister.

“Almost…” Jack muttered at the controls, typing away. Suddenly there was a loud click that echoed off the basement walls. Machines roared to life and lights winked on. Inside the portal, the metal fans began to spin.

“YES!” Jack punched the air, triumphant.

“Jack!” Maddie called to her husband, gesturing towards the safe zone. He jogged over and squeezed himself in between his two kids.

“This is it!” he shouted over the noise, which was gradually becoming deafening.

All around the room, machines and computers turned on. Attached beakers and graduated cylinders filled up with green, bubbling liquid. A wall lined with dialers bounced up and down. Puffs of smoke expelled out of exhaust pipes. The portal itself began to crackle with electricity, its interior fans spinning faster and faster until it started emitting a bright green glow. The pressure in the room changed, popping Danny’s ears. He felt the tips of his hair begin to rise with the electric waves.

The whirring of the fans inside the machine began to ring out a high pitch squeal as the machine glowed brighter, and brighter, blinding Danny’s naked eyes. He squinted and held out a hand over his eyes, peeking through his fingers. The air around them grew warm and staticky. His father clamped a hand tightly on Danny’s shoulder, as if to hold him back from running away.

It was working. Danny couldn’t believe it. Not once in all of their years of inventing ghost machines and hunting equipment, they may have actually been able to build something that worked like they wanted it to.

What would this mean? That ghosts actually existed? That his parents were not the crackpot fools the town took them for? And if they did exist, there was the one question that no one has been able to answer.

Were ghosts dangerous?

He looked up at Jazz. Her expression was unreadable through the head covering. He looked at his parents, wild and furious excitement in their eyes.

Then, when it seemed like Danny’s ears couldn’t take much more of the screeching noise, a BOOM exploded from the portal. Light poured out of the machine and flooded the room. Danny yelped and turned away. Jack stepped in front of his family and hid them with his massive torso from the explosion. Then, very suddenly, the room went dark. Every light and machine that had been just buzzing with life, died. Danny’s hearing rang in the abrupt silence.

“What the heck?” Jack was the first to say something.

“I got a flashlight, hang on,” Maddie said next. Danny heard her fumbling around her utility belt and a small light winked on. She shined it around the room. Curls of smoke rose up from the machines. The glow from the ecto-purifier had also faded.

“I don’t understand,” Maddie said, dumbfounded as she gazed around the room. “This should have worked.”

“We checked every calculation,” Jack said, equally mystified.

“And tested every single machine.” She threw up her hands. “I even made sure the damn computers turned on!”

“Well, obviously, this wasn’t going to work,” Jazz suddenly said, her anger returning. “You guys were trying to open a portal to nothing . Because ghosts don’t EXIST.”

She ripped off the hood and goggles. “I’m going back upstairs to change and burn this stupid jumpsuit, and work on processing this trauma that you have inflicted on us, yet again.” Without waiting for her parents to respond, she stomped back upstairs, her footsteps echoing off the silent basement walls

Jack shook his head. “What is her deal?”

“Oh, never mind her, Jack,” Maddie said. “We need to figure out what went wrong. We only have a day until the expo and we promised to present this.”

Danny’s parents turned their back on him and began working to restore the power, jumping right into a deep discussion. Danny took the moment to quietly slip away back upstairs.

The second he was back into his room, he let out a long exhale. Suddenly remembering he was wearing the jumpsuit, he hastily ripped it off and then threw it in the trash bin in the corner of his room.

He flopped back onto his bed, and lay in the stillness of his room for a few minutes to collect his thoughts. He stared up at the plastic, glow in the dark stars and planets stuck on his ceiling.

He couldn’t believe there was a moment back there where he thought the machine was working.

He didn’t want to imagine what would happen if ghosts were real. There were no real scientific facts about them. All those convention attendees at the ghost hunters expo all had different theories about what ghosts are - the religiously damned, aliens, spirits with unfinished business, souls that died before their time, another species - no one could settle on a single argument.

But if they did exist, what would happen then? Would they swarm the Earth, like cicadas after their years long sleep? Would they haunt each and every home and building in towns and cities, and try to claim it as their own? Would the world be plunged into a ghost apocalypse, where every human had to fight for their own human survival and soul? Were ghosts malicious or peaceful?

His parents might be arrested for creating the portal in the first place, if it did turn out bad. Or the government might force them to work alongside them to rid the Earth of the ghost population. What would happen to him and Jazz? Would they be put into juvie, just for being the kids of the Fenton Freaks? Would they be put into foster care, once the government decided Jack and Maddie were unfit parents for him and Jazz?

What if the human population adopted a sick fascination of ghosts? Businesses would try to profit off the ghosts by selling fake anti-ghost protection devices or offer tours inside “haunted” houses. There might even be a community in which some would fall in love or even want to become a ghost themselves.

The world would become absolute chaos.

Danny shuddered at the thought. He didn’t understand what his parents saw in trying to prove their existence. What good would proving the undead existed bring to the world?

His anxious, spiraling thoughts were interrupted when his computer dinged. Danny got up and sat down at his desk. He wiggled his mouse to wake up his computer. Tucker had sent him a message.

Still have all of your hair?

Danny chuckled and wrote back.

Yep. Nothing happened though. But the power in the basement blew.

Damn , was Tucker’s response. And I had just invested in a 25 pack of markers to color your head in Lancer’s class when you fall asleep.

Danny laughed out loud. I can only imagine all the pensises you’d draw.

I had planned no less than 50. Two for each color.

Well I hope you kept your receipt cause I still have a full head of hair. Unlike you. Danny made a jab at Tucker’s own buzzed haircut. He had tried growing out dreads for the school year, but his mother forced him to shave it off after he got caught staying up on the computer way too late one night. She paid the barber to give him a military buzz cut.

Shut up, dude, Tucker typed back. While you were away not getting your hair fried off your scalp, I was devising up a new battle plan to defeat Chaos.

Danny smiled. Oh yeah? Lay it on me.

#danny phantom #phantomorigins #phantom #ghosts #nickelodeon #fanfiction #danny fenton #half ghost #sam manson #tucker foley #jack fenton #maddie fenton #jazz fenton #dannyphantomfanfiction #Phanfiction #ao3 #ao3 danny phantom

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recentanimenews · 3 years

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SPOILER-FILLED REVIEW: Talking About That Evangelion 3.0+1.0 Ending

A note on safety: The following movie review undertook the strictest of safety procedures to watch the anime film in cinemas in Japan, including washing hands with disinfectant before and after, sitting in seats apart from others, going to a cinema outside of the busy metro area, and wearing a mask during the entire runtime of the movie. We strongly urge everyone to follow the recommended safety protocol in your country and always wear a mask when in public — not just for your sake, but everyone else’s as well.

For those who are outside of Japan and want to know how the latest (and final) Evangelion film stacks up, we have already published our completely spoiler-free review. For those that want to know more, please read on.

After the airing of the NHK documentary which followed Hideaki Anno and the four-year production of Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time, the unofficial “spoiler ban” was lifted by Studio Khara on March 22. This means, as much as Khara is concerned, we are free to discuss anything and everything Evangelion: 3.0+1.0, like how [omitted for spoilers] kills [spoilers] and LCL [spoilers].

Seriously though, if you don’t want to read any spoilers for Evangelion: 3.0+1.0, then leave. Immediately. Close the tab, don’t scroll down.

This is a warning.

I’m not kidding.

I’m putting an image here as a buffer. It's sweet right?

If you scroll past the next image you will be spoiled for everything in the film. This is your last warning.

"Asuka" as a kid

Welcome to Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time where I may have lied in my previous review, cause things go tumbling down — but in a good way. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t recall the exact right terminology here on out: between the Doors of Guf, the hundreds of Evangelion models and ships we see, and that ending, it’s hard to keep it all in one head. That’s why this film has four directors.

If you’re already here, you’ve probably read the synopsis going around the internet right now. Yes, it explains what happens on screen, but experiencing it is a different story. Evangelion 3.0+1.0 takes a lot of cues from The End of Evangelion in its final act, but prior to that it is mostly a story of growth for Shinji, where he rejects being depressed (after a heart to heart with black-suit Rei, who then turns into LCL), learns that things aren’t 100% his fault. Shinji goes on to tackle his source of depression head-on; owning up to his past mistakes and taking down his father, who is now literally just a vessel of his own desires.

Unholy Gendo

Something truly missing from Evangelion 3.0, and one of the reasons I loved Evangelion 2.22, was just the gang hanging out together and interacting with the — very scarred — world around them. That scar has vastly grown throughout the 14 years Shinji was missing from the actual 3rd impact (the one at the end of 2.22 was a “near-impact event”) which saw the world covered in the red haze we saw in 3.0. Luckily, WILLE has purification pods that keep the core-ification of the world at bay. We saw that being used in the 12-minute preview, but throughout the film, they’re used extensively to keep the Evangelion wandering the landscapes on the red earth away from the villages that are helping the WILLE cause. They need to get food from somewhere.

This is where we spend a lot of time learning how the characters from Shinji’s class all survived, got paired off, and that Asuka is staying (and is probably in love) with Kensuke. She confesses to Shinji that she loved him when they were kids, but 28-year-old Asuka can’t keep loving someone who hasn’t changed in 14 years. Shinji does accept the confession, saying to her that he loved her too, and she turns into LCL — though that’s in the Anti-Universe and after Asuka meets the “original” Asuka (I’ll get into that). As I said, it’s The End of Evangelion 2.0.

Rei discovering herself in the village

One of the nicest parts of the film is black-suit Rei discovering human emotion and society in the village. Being a clone that likely spent all of her time locked in her room (and without the love of the now inhuman Gendo, which original Rei got), it was unlikely that she learned anything that makes humans human. The concept of “hello” and babies from Toji and Hikari confuses her as she finds a place herself in this village. Admittedly, it was sad to see her go and turn into LCL (from a lack of LCL exposure), but serving as the catalyst for Shinji to get over himself and face his demons was worth it … I guess?

After this, Shinji grows up. Even Mari on a re-introductory sniff claims as much. During his time in the village, he discovers how the settlement stays afloat and that the 14-year-old son of Misato and Kaji (the latter perished in the real 3rd impact) helps keep the village alive. A picture of Shinji and Kaji Jr. helps warm Misato’s chilled heart and gives her the confidence to let Shinji pilot Unit 01 again, much to the disdain of multiple members of the WILLE crew.

All of this is nice. Unlike the despair and hopelessness felt in 3.0, the entire first three parts of the film are uplifting and bring moments of joy. Seeing black-suit Rei smile as she came to terms with herself was just utterly beautiful.

Then Shinji decides to get in the robot.

This is where I’m going to get into the Hideaki Anno talk, because this film, as well as the rest of the anime versions of the Evangelion franchise up to this point, is basically just a self-examination of the man’s mental state. In the spoiler-free review, I called Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 the antithesis of Evangelion: 3.0. And that’s true, but it is also an antithesis to The End of Evangelion: A rejection of the depression Anno felt while creating the 20-plus-year-old film. There’s no doubt in my mind that the journey of Shinji through these Rebuild films is the journey of Anno creating Evangelion, with 3.0 being the lowest point.

But this isn’t just felt in the story of 3.0+1.0, it’s also felt in the way it was presented. The entire final act of the film is basically a happier version of the “tumbling down” scene from The End of Evangelion, just with some more interesting aspects to it along with some inventive filmmaking — including making Lillith’s face live-action. That was haunting.

This includes the above scene, which got a lot of flak on social media for being very poorly animated when it appeared in a trailer. Even I was confused over the inclusion of such poor animation in what is one of the most hyped anime films of all time. Funnily enough, it was Anno trolling. The scene comes from the ending, where the two Eva’s fight through the history of Evangelion, with this scene either representing a testing stage for CGI or one of the many Evangelion video games. The poor animation makes sense in the film … mostly.

Over multiple film-like sets, the two Evangelions duke it out — one with Shinji, the other Gendo — over their ideals. This takes them to Misato’s apartment, the school, and even where Pen-Pen (or his offspring, I don’t know how long Penguins live) resides in 3.0+1.0. Before cutting to each of the different scenes, an Eva smashes through the set wall and onto a production stage.

I also said in the spoiler-free review that Anno “takes everything he knows about animation and filmmaking to deliver the perfect end to Evangelion,” and it shows when you see the (animated) production stage filled with props, miniature cities, and controls that you’d probably see on a production stage for a live-action Evangelion. Again though, this part is animated.

Mari at the End

The surrealness doesn’t end here. When Shinji “wins” and chooses to reset the world without Evangelion, the animation breaks. Shinji devolves into key animation, then layouts, then into a storyboard, which is then broken by Mari bringing color back into Shinji’s world on that beach. No “how disgusting” here, only happiness.

The film ends with an adult Mari and an adult Shinji at Ube Station. As the music of Hikaru Utada’s “One Last Kiss” swelled up through the speakers, the animated backgrounds slowly transitioned into a live-action drone shot of the area surrounding the hometown of Hideaki Anno.

A poster for Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 showing Shinji on the tracks outside Ube Station, which I discussed when the poster was first released.

This is how I know Hideaki Anno is done with Evangelion. While yes, he has said he is done and feels no personal connection to the franchise anymore, the end of the film is a deeply personal one that clearly shows the anime creator cares about his creation and is now happy enough to see leave home and become its own thing — if anyone else chooses to pick it up.

Shin Evangelion (the Japanese name for the film) is the true form of Evangelion that Anno set out to create over 25 years ago. While it wouldn’t have looked anything like it does now, the emotion poured into one of the longest animated films ever made makes that point as clear as the bright blue sea.

Some other various interesting spoiler points:

I’m not sure if character designer Yoshiyuki Sadamoto was lying about him not knowing Mari’s story and just making that one-shot chapter of the Evangelion manga on a whim or whether Anno took what Sadamoto wrote and expanded on it, cause Mari was right there in school with Gendo and Yui exactly as the chapter laid it out. Unless she’s also a clone...

There’s a really good shot of CG Asuka trying to force-feed Shinji, which was a direct evolution from this test footage back in 2018.

On the topic of Asuka, she had a small version of a purification pod in her eye that, when opened, unleashed an angel, and in turn let her meet her “original.” It’s not explained whether the original is Langley Soryu from the TV anime series or not.

Also, she’s a clone, like Rei and Kaworu as part of the “Shikinami” series. Interestingly, Mari Makinami also has “nami” in her name...

Ritsuko did nothing but shoot Gendo, mimicking the scene from The End of Evangelion. The shot was as useless as her character arc in the Rebuild films.

This film has to be set in at least the third continuity of Evangelion, as the TV series is directly referenced in the production stage and thrice does mean three...

Sakura is one of the most grounded characters in the film, with her asking the true question of “why the heck are you letting him in ANOTHER Evangelion?!” Let’s hope the live-action world she is now in is good to her.

Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time is currently showing in theaters across Japan, there’s no word on an international release at this stage.

Daryl Harding is a Japan Correspondent for Crunchyroll News. He also runs a YouTube channel about Japan stuff called TheDoctorDazza, tweets at @DoctorDazza, and posts photos of his travels on Instagram.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features.

By: Daryl Harding

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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fromthefishbowl · 3 years

Text

People who complain about Ao3 don’t remember what sites like ff.net were like

Every few months, a bright-minded Tumblr blogger peeps up with the never-heard-before: “Ao3 is a completely amoral site. If they want to prove to us they have a moral backbone, then they need to purge X, Y, and Z tags, and then create a team of mods who will regularly check the stories that are reported because since now there aren’t tags that tell the readers about X, Y, and Z, these goddamn perverts will slip through the cracks and create toxic environment in which children shouldn’t be” take, and the posts routinely receive thousands of notes.

Well... let me tell you how things actually work on sites that don’t use tags but have a team of mods that checks the authors and stories that are being reported.

I’m a fandom old: even if I’m young, I began reading and writing fanfics back in September/October 2012. I’ve used a site that was basically ff.net’s twin, Wattpad, and then Ao3. I was there, when Wattpad slowly turned into a money-making farm and implemented micro-transactions and ads. I have seen how these platforms evolved and who they were protecting, and it really doesn’t matter how much you whine and complain about Ao3, but it’s the only platform that actually protects both its writers and readers in equal measure.

According to the many theories made by people who have already forgotten how actually lawless fanfiction sites were, having mods would solve all the problems regarding the “moral issues” presented by Ao3. In their opinion, mods would be these perfect creature who never take sides and are always impartial, ready to defend ThE cHiLdReN from the evil, amoral content. They’d scrub the site clean from the “toxic” and “dangerous” content in order to create a wholesome environment where parents and kids alike can happily frolic together.

In truth? Nothing about mods ever worked like that. No one is able to be completely impartial, and some people only need to be given an ounce of power to lose their minds and do as they please.

On the site similar to ff.net, people were encouraged to report all the stories that didn’t strictly follow the rules of the site, including the ones where the spelling wasn’t as great as it should’ve been. It wasn’t rare to find that users had reported an account or a story simply out of revenge, because said author hadn’t commented their work favorably. If you were a fandom favorite with a lot of readers, it was also possible to find in your DM box people asking you to report and ask your readers to report someone, even if you had to make up things in order for the report to go through.

Thankfully, mods were extremely lethargic (I love the idea that people think that they’d act briskly and not sleuth around the site, posting stories with their modding accounts in order to receive a higher number of comments), so most reports ended up in stand-by, catching proverbial dust, for years and years, until everybody forgot about the report itself as well as the story, the author, and whatever had happened there.

But when they acted? Ooooh, and here’s the interesting part, because there were three options!

The story was taken down, the account banned, and the only thing left of them would be a notice from the mods that they had been stricken because they had done this, this, and a little bit of that too. But do you know who was usually hit, by this? Smaller writers, writers whose stories didn’t pull in a lot of views and comments, people who were “forgettable”. It also happened a lot with writers who would put themselves against bigger authors by writing negative reviews for their stories;

The mods closed an eye because the people and storied reported where at the top of their category in a very trafficked fandom. There was a case in which people were so distressed by the presence of a very specific story (Jewish girl falls in love with the Nazi guard that abuses her while she’s in a concentration camp), that the headmistress of the site had to write a special comment that could be viewed by all the people who were going to review that story that said that there was no reason to leave a negative review nor to report it to the mods, as it followed the rules of the site (it didn’t, but it brought in a lot of views and attention to the platform, so... it could stay!);

The mods would hunt the authors on their social medias too and ban them from the site because they’d been rude. It happened more than once, that an author was reported or they were the ones reporting, and have found themselves submersed in insults by members of the mod team on their Facebook page. Two cases:

An author was accused of having plagiarized a story written by another, more famous, user. The author denied, and asked for proof of it. The mod taking care of the case didn’t offer any, but deleted their story and blocked their account until they said they were sorry to the more famous user. In order to have their account back, the author said they were sorry to the famous user, but on their Facebook page wrote that it was a crock of shit: they hadn’t copied from that person, and the fact that the mod hadn’t offered any proof of it was suspicious enough. The mod saw that Facebook post, sent them a DM with nothing but insults, and then banned them permanently because they had been rude to the administration;

An author posted a story, and two other users plagiarized it. The author reported both stories and waited a week for the mods to send them a DM telling them to screenshot all the passages that had been copied and put them all in a document because they didn’t have time to read three different stories. Although the author complied, they wrote a post complaining about this lousy job on Facebook. The post caught the eye of another moderator who blocked their account and told them they wouldn’t have had access to the site unless they apologized to the entire team of mods, to the users they had accused of plagiarizing their story, and took down the Facebook post. In the meanwhile, the first mod was caught chatting with one of the two other users on the forum. The author didn’t back down for another two weeks, when the headmistress of the site herself showed up and told them she would’ve been the one to take care of the question. In the end, although it was clear that the two users had copied the author’s story, the author still received nasty and threatening messages from the entire mod team because of that Facebook post, to the point that they decided to delete their stories and their account altogether and move to another platform.

This is what happens with mods that are always asked to answer to reports and to take care of stories personally: authors are not protected against anything unless they are big enough to be an attraction people subscribe to the platform for. Fics with “moral backbone” issues were left up if they had the views and the comments for it.

And the readers? Well, the readers used to get the short end of the stick too, as those sites didn’t have a tag system and there wasn’t a way for them to know if a story contained something they didn’t like to read about, nor a way for them to “obscure” the ones that did. Finding specific things was a mess too.

This to say: you need to curate your own fandom experience. You are in charge of what you read, and it’s not my place to take care of the children and make sure that everything they put their saintly eyes upon is wholesome. Ao3 is the only platforms that allows the readers to have an absolutely complete control of what they consume and that allows the writers to warn the readers of every single issue their story can contain that might trouble them. Learn to curate your own fandom experience, rather than spending your time whining about “moral issues” and “think of the children”, coming up with ideas that are simply not doable on a massive site like Ao3.

#ao3 #discourse #fandom experience #purity culture

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Amphibia Reviews: Toad to Redemption and Maddie and Marcy

Hello all you happy people! And welcome back to my weekly coverage of Amphibia! And today we have a suprisingly important Toadstool episode.. and a MADDIE AND MARCY EPISODE. Guess which one i’m actually excited about. But regradless it’s a good batch this week so join me under the cut for my thoughts with spoilers

Toad to Redemption: A not half bad episode, this one concerns everyone’s faviorite Monopoly Man Fried Chicken Baby, as it turns out he’s finally grown a heart. It turns out the Toad Tower incident.. actually changed him as a person. I’m as shocked as you. I mean he’s still a greedy corrupt hick, you can’t paint a gopher orange and call it a basketball...

Look i’ts a long story i’m legally barred from talking about. Point is Toadstool is a greedy asshole but one who cares about his consituents now and actually enjoys the town and taking care of it. In return the citzens actually like him now: they may of rightfully tried to vote him out but his genuine attempts at doing good, in this episodes case spending money on potholes instead of a Jacuzzi for him and Toadie and helping fix a falling sign, have made him actually beloved.

Naturally though, it’s not that easy and a newt comes down to give him the job running Toad Tower, and him refusing it would mean time in prison. Because as if we needed the reminder, The Newt ruling class sucks and so far the only person we’ve seen related to the castle who isn’t either hiding an edltrich demon, a snob, or some form of hired goon is Marcy, whose blind to all of that. I do wish Marcy was in this episode for that reason, as i’m waiting for her to finally see the downside of the king and the people she’s been working for, but I get why not: it’d make the episode too easy, and distract from the character it’s actually about and to the episodes credit they wrote her out well enough: She’s studying Frobo all day.

So the Mayor begs Anne, who showed up with a bunch of parking tickets from Hop Pop (And ones from when they were out of town no less), for help. She only ends up agreeing becaue his puppy dog eyes are so ungodly unsettling she just wants it to stop but I presume getting those parking tickets cleared up is part of it.

So it goes as you’d expect: THe Plantars try to make him look bad, it dosen’t work. Though to Toadstool’s credit despite the hefty punishment he does prepare to tell the newt lady off after she explains Toadie won’t be going with them. You can do a LOT to Toadstool but no one is a condescning bitch to his husband-minon and gets away with it!

But then the three toads from last season show up, the ones Anne fought, lead by Bog that pointy guy. Look i’ts been almost two years. and felt like 90. The Toads have become Bandit’s since leaving Grime behind, which.. you.. you could’ve done that and had a consistent base of operations and a home in the frog alps. So naturally a fight breaks out but Toadstool bluffs htem to throw them off guard and the town easily fights them off.

Thankfully Toadstool gets out of things. Jacinda, said newt lady, finds him too soft for the job and puts Bog in charge.... so.. yay? No.. not really no yay here none. So while our heroes goad themselves for yet another enemy on the docket, the town confirm how much they care about Toadstool, Toadstool caresses toady and I die a little on the inside.

Toad to Redemption is decent. It’s not the best of this half of the season but it does speak to how this half has been far better, with the return to wartwood giving us far more character stuff that had been lacking, and notably focusing more on the side cast. Speaking of whiccchhhhh

Maddie and Marcy Look unless this episode screwed up horribly somehow, this episode already had my good will just by teaming up two of my faviorites: As i’ve made clear Marcy is endlessly relatable to me as an awkward nerd myself and Haley brings her a-game every time. As for Maddie she was an instant faviorite from her first apperance being married off to Sprig, with her spotlight episode “Cursed!” being one of my faviorites of the series thus far, and a generally great one that fleshed her out from a creepy but endearing backgroudn character with sinsiter intent. to a nice if spooky little girl who uses the darkest magics for the greatest goods.

So the two were a natural to not only get a spotlight together, but also in something the show lampshades one that’s mostly devoid of the main cast. Anne, Sprig and Hop Pop all only show up for quick gags, and the story is entirley around the titular Duo. And safe to say my hype was warranted: This is one of the standouts of the season by a long shot and one of the funniest episodes this season, while giving Maddie even more depth and allowing Marcie to play a supporting roll this go round.

Maddie is working on her biggest spell yet: to raise the dead. Frankenstein styles. But her sisters keep begging her for attention and eventually get bored and spill her carefully prepared cauldron causing her to snap at them. It is however a nice layered conflict: This is very important to Maddie and rightfully so as this is her first level 2 spell, and she was specifically asked to do it by one of the neighbors. And it’s not like this is something she can half ass... if done right you get frakenweenie if done wrong you get pet semetary. It’s a very fine line. This is her passion, her calling as she puts it later when she explains her backstory. The issue is she treats her sisters like babies and ignores them due to this passion.. it’s fine to have passions but you have to make time for those who matter. I’ts fine she dosen’t spend as much time with her sibs as she used to, juggling them and flashback Maddie is fucking precious... but she has to make some for them. They love her. They have to understand how important this is to her and she has to understand how important she is to them.

So Maddie skulks off to get get some suplies, and Marcy is impressed as she’s been looking for a magic user and tries introducing herself.. and gets set on fire. But the two quickly bond: Marcie’s been looking for a teacher in magic being a fan of something resembling harry potter... I really feel for this show as i’ts clear the creators were fans from this episode’s tiny shout out to it and the first temple’s bigger one, and they clearly had no idea any of this would happen. None of us did. So we get a bonding montage which is the best scene of the episode and the funniest scene of the season, and very possibly the series, thus far. The two find slime, ticks, a corpse (Or rather hop pop whose annoyed they thought he was a corpse), digging up some graveyard soil next to some confused mourners and best of all “assorted limbs” which while I have the image up front I can’t resist sharing again..

This.. is easily the best thing the series has ever produced. Their just so fucking precious. They also high five each other as new best friends. The triplets though aren’t happy about any of this, not getting that shared intrests are a thing and what not and instead plot to get big. Look there are easier ways to do that: asking zoltar.. or a groovy ant who wants you to do a rap number.

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They instead use one of Maddie’s spells without asking and also vandalize her book because their babies.. she snaps at them again and they plan to grow big. Meanwhile Marcie and her beloved apprentence work on tampering in frog’s domain and successfuly do a necromancy.. only for the now giant sized triplet #1 to bound in.. followed by #’s 2 and 3. Our two heroines run for their lives from the giant babies, and Maddie is panicked as she now realizes what they did.. and that without proper ballance, the spell will cause them to explode.

So while the triplets grasp with the expansion and inetivible kaboom, Maddie has Marcie prepare an antidote for four.. and goes alll giant man to calm them, juggling them adorably one last time. Peace is restored and Maddie agrees to get a better work life ballance.

Maddie and Marcy as I said is one of the standout sof the season and easily my faviorite so far, being funny while having great character work, which is when the show’s at it’s best. or dramatic and great character work. either way this one was a treat.

Next Week: Our heroes seek out a second temple, while our anti-heroes seek out a legendary hammer.

#amphibia #anne boonchuy #mayor toadstool #maddie flour #marcy wu #toad to redemption #maddie and marcy

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whirlybirdwhat · 3 years

Note

Heyo~ I just wanted to say that your fanfics have inspired me to write my owns, they're so good!!

But my writing isn't nearly as good, do you have any advices for this starting writer? <3

oh my gosh anon !!!!!! im ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ !! im so glad they inspire you, and I wish you all the best on your writing!!! you got this, and please link them if/when you post!!!! 👀👀👀

as for advice - i got a few things!

first off, your writing is yours, and - especially in fic - there isn't necessarily a type of 'good' writing, just different skill sets! for instance, i find that my weak point is dialogue, while im great at worldbuilding + emotions. another writer might be the opposite, but it doesn't mean my writing is 'bad' and theirs is 'good' or the reverse, simply that we have different strengths! as you grow as a writer, you will find your strengths and learn to grow them, and your weak points! there is truly no standard, so don't put yourself down!!

moving on to more advice however - (EDIT: theres a tldr at the bottom because sorry, i rambled a bit!!)

1. write. it doesn't matter where, it doesn't matter when, it doesn't matter how! I have written fics on sticky notes in the middle of class (whiskey peak chapter of esom) on discord in the span of a few hours (make a choice (turncoat hero)) and in my notes apps (the ace/yamato fic i posted)!! if you learn to write anywhere you please, this will keep ideas from leaving your mind, and allow you to get into the zone that there doesn't have to be a set time to write!

2. length never matters for a fic. If 100 words is all it takes to write what you want to write, then 100 words is all it takes! don't let the general adoration for long fics to scare you off from writing, and write what you're comfortable with. I know writers who only write chapter fics, and writers who will only write one shots (then there's me, who tries to do both at once lol.)

3. when i am lost with the plot of a fic, the first thing i do is draft an outline of what i want to happen next. this is just a simple bullet point outline, in the general fashion of, say

- luffy gets a different hat post pirate king

- monkey steals hat

- luffy calls for zoro

- zoro sleeping?? sanji kicks him then fight

- the monkey is revealed as the red haired pirates monkey

- shanks shows up "miss me anchor?" party time

brief, follows a simple set of actions, perhaps one or two lines that i thought of while writing, and gives me a skeleton to follow so that when i lose myself in a fic i know where i can go next. Some people find it useful to do this at the beginning with a super detailed plot, and others never write a outline at all! it depends again on how you grow as a writer, so don't be afraid to try different things out when you approach a fic

4. stuck on a part? writer block? can't focus? get up drink a glass of water, and get back to writing! i find this helps me get refocused on writing when i am stuck, a little body 'wake up' as you will.

5. never EVER delete a scene from a fic. never. NEVER. move that scene to another doc, put it in a 'scrapped writing' folder, idc, but never delete it entirely. it helps you grow as a writer, and you can always put the scene back/reword it, etc. i cannot count on my hands how many times i have reworked a previously scrapped portion of a fic and came out the better for it!

6. having multiple wips is okay!! celebrate it even!! i always have at least five docs for five separate fics up on my computer at all times so i can shuffle between them when writing and write what im inspire for in that moment. its okay if you never make headway on one of them, as long as the ideas keep flowing

7. want to get something out quick? word wars are your friend - set a timer for 15 minutes, and write as many words as you can. this is especially fun if you have someone doing it with you, so you can compare counts at the end and share your story!!

8. writing, like all art, takes time. and, generally, there is a chance you will write faster when you first set out to write then you will later, because later, you will be more conscious of your word choices and be more deliberate and careful in your plot, rather than just churning out works. It's okay if you don't churn out 5k a day - writing is not an obligation!

9. have. fun. im serious! write what you want to write, even if it seems no one will love it or like it or want to read it - write what brings you joy, what makes you smile, even if it's something that's been done a thousand times before!! this is what fic is, for your own personal enjoyment. Additionally, do not be discouraged if there's a low amount of reviews for something you put your heart and soul. it sucks ass, yes, (i have a couple fics i love which have only gotten like, a quarter of attention of some of my other fics) but ultimately, the idea you wrote down is one you want to see in the world!! it doesn't quite matter what anyone else likes.

10. grammarly, word counter, word, etc - anything with a spellcheck is your best friend, and will generally catch things you miss if you cant find someone to proofread for you. additionally, if you want to be more critical of your fic, look for friends tto give constructive critcism, but know that you absolutely do not have to accept it from any stranger online unless you asked specifically for it.

11. fanon is fanon and popular headcanons are popular headcanons and both are absolutely not canon. you do NOT have to follow it if you do not want to.

12. read!!! i read a lot of fic, a lot of published books, and each has something i really enjoy and apply to my own fics.

13. to reiterate again just... write. write and write and write. i have over 300k posted to ao3 rn, and more in my docs. you will not improve your writing to any standard that you set for yourself unless you write!! always practice!! learn from your mistakes!! grow!!! you will improve with time, i promise, just go out and write what makes you happy anon!!

tl;dr have fun, write a lot wherever and whenever, and write for yourself before anyone else. you will improve with time as a writer the more you practice, and it doesn't ever matter how long your work is.

if you want more specific advice on formatting fic/general rules/ your first time posting, feel free to send another ask!! but for now, i wish you the best of luck anon and a very 👀👀👀👀 at your future fics!!!

#that was #so much rambling i am sorry but i do hope its helpful!!#whirlywhat #whirlyanswers #advice #writing #fic writing advice #fic advice

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 3 years

Text

Happy new year everyone 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

I know 2020 has been hard for everyone.

And I want everyone to know, suffering isn't a contest and we all suffer in different ways. But I feel I should give my year in Review. Just some things that happened to me personally.

This was an intense, and long and spiritual and emotional journey for me...

I really discovered what it meant to have community, family and what my life means to me.

But I feel I need to get this in writing cause I can remember the year with vivid detail and I will probably forget if I don't get it down.

Do I have to share this publically online to my tumblr account for a bunch of strangers to see? not really.

Do I want to?

Yes. I think so. Just from how so many people on tumblr and real life have touched me.

This is kinda long and no one needs to read this.

(idk how to do a readmore on mobile. But this is where I would add it later. No one needs to read if they don't want to.)

January/February: (and some background on the last five years of my life cause.....well. it's important.)

As people knew, I got way into Invader Zim last summer. I spent most of my waking life working a dead end job at a grocery store. I lived a sad lonely life, going straight home to a single dark studio apartment. With not many material possessions outside of games, my laptop and my tablet to my name. Half of my material loves, such as home furnishings and books were still in boxes from when I moved in. In case I ever had to move again, or get some "big screenshot or copywriter" job in the city.

....

I lived in that city in the same dead end job and apartment for five years.

No friends. No social life. I often refused to make doctor appointments or attempt to establish myself in that city. I didn't even talk to anyone in my workplace.

Work. Go online. Go to sleep.

I lived like that for five years.

I thought it was good.

Even my therapist thought I was doing well.

When I really wasn't. My main character flaw I struggle with is motivation.

I can talk to someone about very detailed plans I have to fix a problem... But I tend to never follow through.

Just because I can describe in detail how to fix my personal problems, it doesn't mean I will do it.

(I have gotten better at this but it's a major struggle)

I might have been a Zombie during the day...

But by night I was pouring my soul into my AU and my analysis.

After being so thoughly ignored or overlooked by the Naruto fandom and the Undertale fandom, I felt like I had finally found my home and was settling into a community there.

I just loved that people loved what I had to say.

Especially my AU.

It's no secret that a lot of themes in my au revolve around found family, grief, and loss.......

Fatherhood, in particular.

What it means to be a father, how much do you need to try when you mess up, how willing should a child forgive their parent, especially those that have wronged you and how much of it is factually accurate and simply a self projection of what children want their parents to be and visa versa... What amount of forgiveness and change is nessasary...is it needed?

....

It's no secret that a lot of my AU is a giant coping mechanism for my Dad's death. Espessially the falling out and growing closer with a lot of my family members throughout the years following his death. (Most of the time I keep it ambiguous to how it relates to my personal life unless I include a readmore that states so outright. I feel my au can be enjoyed by a variety of people in the fandom who don't need to know me as a person or my life story.)

My Dad passed away in 2016 in February and my family still feels the aftershocks to this day.

It's part of the reason I moved to the city, alienated myself from my family and people that loved me and refused to experience life for five years.

My entire world was Zim, and I was okay.

March: When America finally realized and started to feel the effects of the pandemic....

A lot of people got scared.

Me included.

I didn't have any streaming services or access to the news. So I only heard accounts from my mom.

I didn't understand why the store was so dead quiet and empty for a few days, then it went into mass chaos and panic in the span of two days.

It felt like Retail black friday in the worst way. Everyone was packed like sardines. Everyone was yelling. The lines at the registers bled into the clothing department.

I was witness to customers shoving others for toilet paper, being rude to cashier's and just overall unpleasantness.

At the time, I didn't even fully grasp what the pandemic was, and I feel a lot of people at the time didn't either.

I ended up absentmindedly scratching my eyebrow in front of a customer and she screamed and villanised me for it. That they didn't want groceries touched by my "unclean hands"

I ended up breaking down into tears.

The customer behind me gave me a hug and told me I was doing a great job.

But the damage was done. It was the final straw, I couldn't stop crying and I was breaking apart.

Thankfully my Boss (the one who likes me) pulled me aside and asked what's wrong.

It was then that I quit. No notice. Same day. I had to get out of there.

I was planning to move to an apartment with my sister in the summer, but my Mom offered for me to move back in with her temperarily just so I can get out of the city and away from the pandemic.

So I did.

I got scared, broke my lease a month early and quit my job of five years that gave me nothing back.

He told me, "take care of yourself and your family, I won't keep you here, do what you need to do."

So I did.

April-June:

A very eventful few months.

My mom offered for me to live at her place, but for some reason she was acting like I would live there forever. That this wasn't a temporary arrangement, and that I didn't have an apartment set up already.

This was in large part to my sister, who had lived with my mom taking advantage of her for years.

Even though my sister and I were going to move in together, I was just never sure about it cause of how she never packed her stuff or made any effort to find a job.

My mom often acted like I was lazy and not searching and was treating me like... Well, an unruly teenager instead of a woman of 29 years. She acted like I was a failure for returning home when it was her idea in the first place.

I would have just been petrified in the city.

Like usual, I retreated to my au again.... And in the spring, something eventful happened.

In may, 8th 2020:

I was invited by @rissynicole to join an invader zim discord.

Now, I've never really used discord before. I always thought it's interface is too confusing.. and I'm a member of a few other iz discords and I usually don't follow them that closely.

Rissy assured me it was different cause some friends of thiers made it and it was smaller.

Before I knew it, I was sharing memes and getting to know everyone there.

It wasn't long after I invited my partner in IZ crimes, @paketdimensioncomic who was genuinely wary of iz servers due to a bad experience with the last one they were a part of.

But soon they were sharing memes and laughing with everyone else.

My eyes were starting to open and I was able to connect to fans of my work in an interpersonal way. And I was able to discover new artists and aus I never knew about.

I was also able to meet so many others of the community and invite them to the server myself.

The moo-ping 10 server kept me sane while I was living with my judgmental mother.

Not only that, the summer was very productive for my au.

Drawing was all I did, and it was a huge break from the job as a cashier I had.

Not only that, June came, and with it, me and Ceph's first collab fic:

A result of us just going back and forth in our DMs constantly about Professor Membrane and how he changed in ETF for the better and how much we adamantly stan "trying-to-be-a-good-dad-brane" and how much of his ETF development has to be implied off screen in order for the emotional resolution in the movie to matter.

The only reason I never professed my love for Membrane as a character in the fandom before the fic dropped was.... Well....

Membrane can be a decisive character in the fandom and I was so worried people would hate me if I did an analysis on him, simply because he's not the best parent in the world. (As an understatement)

Ceph and I really encouraged each other to scream our love for the science himbo loud and proud more frequently and so often.... I actually start to see less Membrane hate posts and breakdowns then their used to be.... I like to think it's a combination of Me and Ceph's influence, along with ETF and the Quarterly's painting Membrane in a slightly more nuanced light then he was previously.

I never wrote a collab fic before and it's such a rewarding and fun and unique experience that I don't think I'll ever have again. And I love working with Ceph on our fics so much.

So much so we did it again...

July-August:

I never thought I would be one of those people who writes NSFW IZ fic... But here I am.

The Brainbrane au started.... An au of my au where Membrane and the Computer fall in love and Membrane makes him a body.

This ship was based around the idea where we joked that Membrane and Zim's Computer would have funny interactions if they ever met, under the pretense Membrane thinks Computer is Zim's parent.

Our headcanons morphed and shifted until we just full blown started shipping them.

Just because Membrane and Zim's Computer have overall REALLY entertaining chemistry.

It's a character dynamic never seen in the show or comics (yet) and I imagine thier interactions to be nothing but entertaining banter.

The fic was also born from spite... Making fun of the troupes and cliches that we found personally destestible in some questionable zadr fics.

So an angry ace and a demi-bisexual collab on a porn and end up blessing the fandom with

Compapa headcanons,

Computer being recognized as a more common used fanon character,

The ship of Brainbrane.

The fandom having a crisis of "oh God, not only are we xenophiles we're technophiles too!!!" Or "why you gotta give Zim's Computer an ass"

More android Computer designs

It was an eventful summer.

In the midst of all this, I moved into my new place, got a new job, and I was able to see my friend (who is def my platonic straight soul mate) who lives in Indiana.

She came to visit, showed me how to decorate and how to take care of my body better! Things were looking up! It was great.

September-November:

My job was at a boat store. If was approaching the fall and my hours were being severely cut.

I was getting into a rut of depression again.

I thought things were changing but the same routine I was trying to escape from was the same thing coming back.

But instead of letting it take hold, I decided I was going to do something about it... I was gonna visit a museum and go with my sister. Just... variety stimulation.

Well that didn't happen.

I talked about this shortly in my au itself...but..

My sister had a complete mental breakdown.

She stopped taking her meds, went off the deep end and was in the hospital a total of five times throughout November.

A lot of it was acting out and the perfect storm of environmental factors that made her scream and act out so she would keep going back to the hospital.

It was traumatizing for me.

I just can't explain what it's like. For her and for me to be in that position.

I'm not telling the full story and a lot of bullshit things happened I won't share here.

She got diagnosed with bipolar one and my mom expected me to be a caretaker for her.

I threatened to disown my family and move away out of state.

It was just too much for me to handle.

So much I was a nervous wreck.

I tried to pick up a second job... Cause my sister was in the mental ward so frequently and couldn't pay the bills.

But I was fired within a week cause I was so stressed I couldn't retain the basic information they were training me for.

It was an office job.

My dream.

It could have been.

I was fired from something I really wanted.

I was only there for three days.

I could not retain any information.

I was a mess.

My sister was a trigger, my mom wanted me to live with her. I couldn't live like this.... I had to get out.

I had to get out.

December:

Remember my Indiana friend?

Well the first week of December is my birthday.

My 30th to be exact.

While I did pick up a seasonal position at Target (not my first pick)

I took the first week of December off so I could spend time with her. Cause she agreed, I needed a break from this crap.

Surviving 30 years is cause to celebrate and if I had to celebrate with my sister I would have cried.

I know there was a risk traveling out of state during a pandemic...

But I needed out, I needed a friend..

And I kinda wanted to look at the place since I was considering moving there.

My friend's mom was sick so she avoided me and her daughter and got us a hotel room.

It was fun! I got to swim in a salt water pool, we talked about Naruto, I showed her the iz and su art books I brought, also Computer and Membrane tea.

I also got to meet her other friends and get crunk. And her bf who is super nice and funny!

I had a super fun birthday....

Until her mom told my friend that her grandparents had covid and that was what she had. And my friend got sick within that same day.... As did I.

I owe so much to her family.

I was an entire state away...about a ten hour drive from home.... She let me stay at her house. "The covid house" we called it.

Cause everyone (except the father. He avoided everyone and booked a hotel immediately cus he was an ER doctor) had covid within a day.

I called in, the test results were positive and I had to stay with her family for ten days quarantine before I could work again.

Which would have been fine....

If my tumblr didn't log me out perminately of my old account. @dana-chan325 .... Which really sucked cause I had a constant headache and was too sick to engage with tumblr or much of the fandom. I didn't want to make a new account when my head was in a bad fog and I could barely breathe or smell.

It's not like I saw much of my friend either.... We all slept at different hours and she had more symptoms then I did.

It was just netflix, danganronpa v3 and cry.

I was miserable, but at the same time.... Not?

I really feel like God himself was the one who pulled me off from tumblr, and my living situation.

Maybe a whole extra week feeling like a bobblehead was what I needed.

It gave me some much needed clarity on my relationships with my mom and sis and friend.

Running away to Indiana was not the solution here.

Once I was better within ten days and no longer had a leave of absence, I drove home.

I am glad I fully recovered (but from how I understand it, my dear friend is still ill. I'm praying for her)

I might have gone to work a bit too soon, cause I had an asthma attack after trying to unload a single cart in the span of six hours.

My boss lectured that my speed was unacceptable, and even though I explained the covid situation and breathing problems many times, she threatened that I'd be fired if I'm that slow again.

Que the next few days of work where they put me on register.

Instantly I was sent into a panic remembering the last time I was on the register and how that panic attack caused me to quit.

I even asked if I could go back to stocking, since my breathing had improved. My boss assured me that I was put on the register cause they needed help and nothing to do with my covid thing.

Then as December concluded and the new year began, my boss said that this was the last shift for me cause my position was seasonal and they were letting a lot of people go.

I then asked why I was on the schedule for Sunday, and he told me to ignore it and I'm free to reapply for full-time.

I mean.... They can act smart about it...

But putting your general merchandise stocker onto register after she had an asthma attack and missed working the first two weeks of December due to covid.....

Not a good look.

So once again, I'm jobless once more.

Will probably continue to live with my sister for awhile.

But I do not feel as if it's a bad thing....

I met so many good people this year....

My friend's family even gave me 500 usd to cover my rent since I couldn't work for a majority of December.

I've seen evil and good from humanity this year. I've seen acts of god, good friends and what my real family means to me as well as friends I consider family.

This year really made me look back at the person in the mirror and say,

"I deserve better."

And actually worked for it this time.

Oh and after Christmas I got a horrible yeast infection that burns over most of my body currently.

Very accurate doodle to the pain I'm in right now.

(seriously my body is a fungus.)

But hey, good news, I respected myself enough to go to the doctor about it!!

So that's progress.

I really hope 2021 holds good things for me.

Thank you to the mooping 10 server for always being there and keeping me sane,

Thank you tumblr for liking my au and everything.

AND A SUPER SPECIAL THANK YOU TO @evartandadam and her family for housing me and my dumb diseased ass. Everyone, she is an angel and I can't express how much she means to me. Please check out her art and buy her stuff on redbubble.

Anyways... Byebye 2020.

I look forward to what I can accomplish for myself this year.

#danachan's posts #personal stuff #new year post #tw: covid #tw: yeast infection

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xxgothchatonxx · 3 years

Text

Clarice 1x09 Review

Right I’m getting the cons out of the way first.

I fucking hate this team. I really do. They could all die in a shower of bullets at the end of this season and I won’t even bat an eye. After writing this I’m going to wash my eyes out with some Science Husbands from The Show That Must Not Be Named because holy shit, this crew is so goddamn annoying!

Krendler should be Hudlin and Hudlin should be Krendler. It’s as simple as that.

So Catherine wants to kill Bill’s mama... you know what would’ve been nice? If we had some build-up for that. Instead the show’s like “oh shit.. we forgot Catherine has a story.”

Right the last time I talked about Ardelia’s storyline, I put my foot in my mouth big time so I’ll just say I’m a bit wary about what they’re doing with the whole Clarice complaint. I hope it is the truth which is “Clarice got all the credit and Ardelia didn’t, and this has to change” and not make Clarice be Exhibit A of Racism in the FBI.

Now the pros, because the pros far outweighed the cons for me this episode.

Those moments when Catherine was having panics attacks... they were really well-done. In fact, Marnee Carpenter was fantastic in this episode.

Julia. Right, I’m a cis woman. I have never been through what Julia has been through, and I know I will never fully understand what it’s like to be treated like that. But I thought that speech she gave near the end of the episode was so heartbreaking but so well-done. In fact, I’d say it’s the best scene this show has done so far in being a follow-up to the Silence of the Lambs. I know that Bill wasn’t trans but the way he was portrayed in the novel and in the film left a sour taste, and that sour taste has really never been addressed in this franchise until now. 30 years after the film. I think that having a character who is a transwoman played by a trans actress, who also wrote this speech, was a very smart move. Because judging by what I’ve read and seen, it looks like Jen Richards took the reaction of the portrayal of Buffalo Bill from the trans community back in the 90s (and it’s still going on today) and made it part of this episode, part of this story. The show had been skirting around this issue for so long, making Bill be this PTSD boogeyman, and now they’re finally addressing just how much hurt he caused in real-life. So the lines between reality and fiction were blurred in this episode (I have read the interview with Jen and yeah I think she put personal experience in this speech as well). Personally I thought that was very powerful. And after that deadnaming scene (I knew it was coming but holy shit) ...yeah I’m going to need to see Julia verbally kick Hudlin’s ass!

Julia’s plot and Catherine’s plot are reminding me what I wish this show was about from the start! I couldn’t care less about this conspiracy storyline, I want to know about the characters! This franchise is so successful because of the characters! We get glimpses of insight with Clarice and Catherine, but we’re not given enough time to learn anything new! When Ardelia was talking about her past a couple of episodes ago, that was great insight into why she is the way she is! And now there’s Julia who is the perfect character to bring us back to what this show promised us at the start - exploring what happened after the events of Silence of the Lambs! It seems like this show has forgotten this!

Okay there’s four episodes left. I’m at the point where I just want it all to wrap up and end. If it gets renewed, I’m not coming back, unless something REALLY big happens that hooks me. As of now? Highly doubt it.

#cbs clarice

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moonlightreal · 3 years

Text

Strange Fate linkdump: Questing, Empathy and Endgames

Huge long post! Linkdump and many many thoughts that wandered through my mind while going through these links.

Last Lullaby stuff:

https://www.thebookseller.com/news/hachette-signs-new-l-j-smith

About the international licensing of The Last Lullaby in 2013. Strange Fate is the big obvious lost book but it’s not the only one.

https://booknode.com/the_last_lullaby_0705503

French bookseller page about The Last Lullaby, with back cover blurb in English but no cover picture. So whatever happened happened before an artist could be commissioned. The book seems to follow unscarred teen Brionwy rather than scarred child Crispy who we met in the Strange Fate chapter

https://spotlightreport.net/featured/burn-bright-presents-l-j-smith-interview

2013 interview about The Last Lullaby. In this interview Crispy and Brionwy are two different characters, though I’d always had the impression that they were the same person and Brionwy was Crispy’s real name. Maybe just because Brionwy is the name in the title and then it’s Crispy’s story, back in whatever first incarnation I read of it whatever incarnation that was. And it’s poetic nfor the scarred child to have a beautiful name.

So we have the short story Brionwy’s Lullaby about Brionwy in the harem and the Strange Fate chapter about Crispy in the ruins. Two pieces. Less than we have of Strange Fate, but there is a looooot of worldbuilding in Brionwy’s Lullaby. Lots of worldbuilding but no hint of where the story goes next. Do Brionwy and Crispy meet? Is there some connection between them? How does the story end? In the Strange Fate incarnation of the story this future is traded for a happier timeline when characters in our time avert the apocalypse but as a separate story how would it conclude?

Honestly I’m sadder about this book than I am about Strange Fate; I loves me some YA dystopias and the whole dragons and vampires thing is just neat. But this book’s as lost as lost can be.

Recent Stuff:

https://www.reddit.com/r/YAlit/comments/krlvr1/lj_smiths_night_world/

Reddit thread from two months ago. The rabbit hole is real and nobody else seems to have found the bottom.

https://deadline.com/2020/05/greg-berlanti-productions-adapt-the-forbidden-game-novels-lj-smith-as-tv-series-the-vampire-diaries-author-1202944224/

Article about the upcoming Forbidden Game TV series. Forbidden Game is a Simon & Schuster series, not Alloy, so while I’m sure Ms. Smith has no say in how the show will go she will at least get royalties! However much royalties book authors get from TV shows, no idea how much that is.

https://micky.com.au/the-vampire-diaries-writer-reveals-new-fantasy-horror-series-the-forbidden-game/

“LJ Smith has just revealed that its horror trilogy novels...” Um. Not quite.

I looked through half a dozen articles about the Forbidden Game TV series and none of them had anything from Ms. Smith. I knew the chance that this would draw comment from her was only a tiny chance, but it seemed worth looking.

Interviews and Stuff:

https://www.saltlakemagazine.com/qa-the-vampire-diaries-creator-l-j-smith-on-writing-and-losing-the-series/

2012 interview about Vampire Diaries

https://peoplepill.com/people/l-j-smith-1

Just a biography page.

http://theliteraryconnoisseur.blogspot.com/2014/05/an-interview-with-new-york-times.html

2014 interview with a blogger. Ms. Smith does seem to be an absolutely lovely person.

https://areiterowski.wordpress.com/2013/02/10/author-profile-l-j-smith/

2013 Blog post about Ms. Smith, ending with a quite long list of “things she’s currently working on.’ the medical stuff didn’t happen until 2015 though with six projects in progress it’s believeable that she didn’t finish any of them before being felled by illness in 2015.

http://luanatormesdemattos.blogspot.com/2013/11/interview-with-one-and-only-l-j-smith.html

2013 interview with a blogger.

Into the meta: Aubrey Clark and the ghostwritten books

https://www.goodreads.com/author/list/5760167.Aubrey_Clark

Books by Aubrey Clark. Secret Circle and Vampire Diaries. I assumed Aubrey Clark is a woman and the other book listed is by a man with the same name, but Aubrey is traditionally a male name and modernly a female name so who knows. Hardly the first time a dude wrote a series aimed at girls under a female name.

https://www.romance.io/authors/54558f9b87eac323ffb2cc31/aubrey-clark

Bio listing Ms. Clark as a she, and classifying her books as romances. Says she’s been writing for eight years. Just on the VD/SC stuff or did she write before? Alloy hiring an existing writer to ghostwrite and that existing writer using a pen name so her new work wouldn’t be connected with her old work is perfectly possible. I swear I read somewhere that Ms. Clark was Ms. Smith’s editor, or her “person” with Alloy, making her signing on as ghostwriter a bit of a betrayal… but I can’t find my source.

And how much of a betrayal is it really, if Ms. Smith got fired it’s not Ms. Clark’s fault if the series got offered to her, and who could say no to getting to write for a series you know? It’s a job and a chance to be a published author and nobody should be judged for grabbing that candy if offered it.

I wish we could hear what happened from Aubrey Clark’s side, just because the story of What Happened to Strange Fate is a mystery I to figure out… it’s easy for me to forget this mystery isn’t a Nancy Drew video game, it’s people’s real lives. Ms. Clark is not the villain, she’s a writer in a situation we don’t fully understand but she’s just a writer like any writer.

http://debrasbookcafe.blogspot.com/2012/11/book-review-secret-circlethe-divide-by.html

Review of Secret Circle: The Divide

http://bookandbroadway.blogspot.com/2016/02/the-temptation-tsc-6-by-aubrey-clark.html

Review of Secret Circle: The Temptation. The reviewer was not impressed.

http://yepireadbooks.blogspot.com/2013/04/book-32-temptation.html

Another review of The Temptation. This reviewer was a bit more impressed than the last one. I admit I ragequit the ghostwritten books after Ms. Clark started killing off characters, I don’t remember if I even hit book two…

https://www.wikiwand.com/en/The_Vampire_Diaries_(novel_series)

Publishing history of Vampire Diaries

https://www.wsj.com/articles/SB10001424052702304058204579495491652398358

2014 “Vampire Diaries Writer Bites Back.” we’ve all read this one...

https://uniquelygeekygirl.com/2013/05/20/1223/

2013 “LJ Smith vs ghostwriter” from a blog called uniquely geeky girl. The next article on the blog is more about Alloy and its practice of hiring ghostwriters.

The Rise and Fall of Kindle Worlds:

https://the-digital-reader.com/2018/05/15/amazon-to-shut-down-kindle-worlds/

https://fanlore.org/wiki/Kindle_Worlds

https://www.thebookloft.com/fanfiction-and-kindle-worlds

https://www.hiddengemsbooks.com/amazon-closes-kindle-worlds/

https://gigaom.com/2014/08/17/amazons-fan-fiction-portal-kindle-worlds-is-a-bust-for-fans-and-for-writers-too/

http://www.roxannestclaire.com/barefoot-bay-world-kindle/kindle-worlds-faq/

https://www.bustle.com/articles/36237-amazons-fan-fiction-site-kindle-worlds-is-flopping-but-why

It rose, and it fell. As far as I can tell Alloy is the only publisher to put its works out on Kindle Worlds, I guess because that’s what they were already doing with their hired authors! Other authors seem to have opened their worlds individually and I guess not many of them signed on.

LJ Smith and Kindle Worlds

https://www.theawl.com/2014/02/the-writer-who-beat-the-system-how-one-woman-resurrected-her-sexy-vampire-brothers/

https://www.mhpbooks.com/fired-vampire-diaries-writer-takes-to-kindle-worlds-for-revenge/

http://floor-to-ceiling-books.blogspot.com/2011/02/l-j-smith-fired-from-writing-vampire.html

A blog post with some comments so you can read the state of the fandom at the time.

https://www.dailydot.com/parsec/fandom/vampire-diaries-lj-smith-kindle-fanfiction/

http://leegoldberg.com/tag/alloy-entertainment/

“Read the contract.’ This one is interesting because it’s the only one that isn’t in defense of Ms. Smith. She should indeed read her contracts unless she wants to just be a fanfic writer, which… I don’t think I’ve ever heard of an author going from published to fanfic, but why not?

Also, good question, where was Ms. Smith’s agent? And where is Ms. Smith’s agent these days when someone should maybe be being the Strange Fate Police?

Unrelated: I swear I read an article from Alloy’s perspective about what happened. Maybe it was this one and I thought it was from Alloy when it wasn’t. It is the only article not in support of Ms. Smith that I could find.

https://editingeverything.com/blog/2014/04/25/fanfiction-is-letting-lj-smith-tell-her-vampire-diaries-story/

https://www.tvovermind.com/vampire-diaries-lj-smith-fired-book-series/

https://thegameofnerds.com/2018/03/03/originals-10-facts-about-the-woman-behind-the-vamps/

https://dc.uwm.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1952&context=etd

https://www.cbr.com/the-secret-circle-why-the-vampire-diaries-author-l-j-smiths-other-cw-series-failed/

I watched one episode of the Secret Circle series because I loved the books so much, but the CW style is not my jam. But it is interesting to read the pitch for a fewer-character second season.

https://anovelbookblog.com/2014/06/12/leeching-off-the-talent-writing-for-hire-the-dark-side-of-publishing/

About the Secret Circle sequel novels and Alloy

https://www.jeanienefrost.com/2019/02/ghosts-in-the-machine/

Ghostwriting and plagiarism and ethics.

https://www.fanpop.com/clubs/stefan-and-elena/articles/94267/title/lj-smith-fired-from-writing-own-novels

This is the full letter from Ms. Smith about getting fired.

https://teleread.com/thanks-to-kindle-worlds-fired-vampire-diaries-writer-continues-her-own-series-as-fanfic/index.html

http://iswimforoceans.blogspot.com/2011/02/help-lj-smith-vampire-diaries.html

2011 blog post

https://indecisiveturtle.wordpress.com/2014/05/29/assignment-4-ghostwriting-in-the-vampire-diaries-by-l-j-smith/

A long blog post that goes into detail about the writing of some of the books, how to tell Ms. Smith’s style from the ghostwriter’s, sentence length and similes and stuff, all very academic! I’ve retyped a couple pieces of Ms. Smith’s writing and I noticed she handles punctuation-with-quotes differently than I do, making it very weird to retype. This is an interesting one. Someone dived way deep!

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2009/10/19/the-gossip-mill

New Yorker article about Alloy

https://www.publishingcrawl.com/2012/05/29/the-not-so-secret-backdoor-to-publishing/

Article about Alloy and package writing

https://www.vogue.com/article/the-secret-circle-young-adult-witch-fiction

Just an article about the Secret Circle books and how they’re kinda bad but actually good. Which they are.

That’ll keep y’all busy for a while!

Quest wishlist: I wish we could ask someone in the publishing industry about rights to series and rights to “publication canceled” books and how all that stuff works. And I wish we could hear Aubrey Clark’s side of the story, but it just seems unkind to reach out to her to ask about this.

But the problem is… I call it “the quest for Strange Fate” because I’m melodramatic and like calling things quests, but what it the victory condition for this one? The obvious: we win if we find and read Strange Fate, but I don’t think that will ever happen. No matter how much we learn about what happened that won’t make Strange Fate appear.

I do wish we could tell LJ Smith that plenty of authors these days have a Patreon. If the people who still care about the lost books and the story of Ms. Smith could turn that caring into actual useful help for the people and maybe the books too that would be the best outcome. That would be a successful quest.

A darker timeline possibility: maybe S&S read Strange Fate and it wasn’t any good. Ms. Smith is a good writer. But take a good writer and give her 20 years off from writing, and make those the 20 years where the teen experience of life changed radically, her genres of choice became big and popular and evolved and built up tropes, and language itself did… things…

I stan language but it’s a little sus how new lettery bois go brr everywhere I look. I love it, but it’s humbling having to ask my niece what all the new words mean, and why so many of them seem to begin with S!

And Ms. Smith is sixty and has twenty years of rewriting Strange Fate, pulling it apart and tinkering until it probably doesn’t much resemble the book she started in 1998. Stir up all this in a pot and we’ve got a recipe for making a talented author drop a mediocre book. Maybe S&S read it, said “it’s a dud, the fandom is 20 years old, let’s just not” and Ms. Smith retired from public life in defeat.

This makes an unhappy sort of sense, but it doesn’t answer the question of why The Last Lullaby never appeared either.

Anyway. This has been a long post, lots of links and some thoughts on the philosophy of questing.

#ljsmith strangefate #LJ Smith #Night World

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janiedean · 3 years

Note

Is it bad that I really enjoyed reading the kinda fandom history/fanw*nk history posts abt j*nsa? XD Tbf I'm also a bit addicted to fanlore articles. XD Anyway I think in the tags of one post you mentioned j*imexs*nsa starting as an antijb thing? Would you mind elaborating on that? Sounds like an interesting, albeit bonkers, story, too.

dw I don't think it's bad I mean... we all enjoy catching up on wank we weren't part of (and my friends the things I could tell you abt spn fandom or when I was around at the sidelines for the worst rpf fic ever..) but anyway *deep breath* SURE THING LET'S SAY IT I mean....... it's not like it hasn't been years and I can talk abt it so whatevs, under the cut because reasons, also I'm saying now that a lot of this was what I deduced from circumstances and you've got to take my word for it unless someone who was around then remembers it and can confirm my impressions bc it was a lot less obvious than the j*nsa stuff

but going from the premises again:

I got a tumblr in like may 2011, read asoiaf june-july of that year, started being active on the tags around august-september 2011 so it was before S2 aired and 95% of the people that were bnfs/around then aren't on tumblr anymore/are here rarely these days so you've gotta take me at face value

in the main asoiaf bnf group there was this one jc shipper who like... I mean she's still active on twt and blocks everyone shipping jb on sight but good bc let's just say she's a piece of work not to mention that she spent months/years writing meta abt how jb was like fanfic stuff and had no book basis and how if you liked j but not c you were a misogynists which was wildly popular

I would like to add that person is basically... let's say everyone in jb fandom who ever got harassed knows exactly who I'm talking about and I'll leave it at that and was not for ship and let ship let's put it like that

so basically this person was on my dash bc I followed ppl who followed her and I saw a lot of jaimes*nsa stuff from her

in the sense that like... she was doing with it what I did with jonc/brynden back in the day when I was wanting to convince the world they were the crackship that was promised as in posting abt it/spamming it/discussing how it made canon sense/more canon sense than jb anyway and the likes, and like there was a fairly numerous amount of stuff for that ship back in the day - like before S2-3 aired jaimes*nsa had pretty high fic numbers/fanwork numbers considering that in canon they haven't interacted once

and that went hand in hand with keeping on trying to burn ground around jb before S2 aired/before they met in canon with that meta

and like... it's not like it started as an antijb thing in itself bc I'm sure that there must have been someone into it before the show aired same as there were ppl who as I was reminded lately wrote brienne/loras hatesex and so on, but the explosion which was during S1-3 (then it lost a bit of traction I think mostly bc jb exploded and sansa/tyrion happened on the show and the ppl involved kind of went more on twitter and didn't produce that much content anymore tho it still has numbers™) was also continuously fanned by person above + her followers who most likely were like... genuinely into it but again the antijb meta was around quite enough at the same time, so

also like... let's just say that back in the day I was the main t*robb ship contributor and I also wrote jb though less but jb was smaller as a fandom so I did post when the ao3 tag was at like... 30 fics or smth so I separately had my foot in both ponds and like until S3-S4 any t*robb fic where jb was the sideship would get tangentially less views/reviews than ones where they were not which in itself wouldn't be a problem bc obviously maybe ppl wouldn't ship one of them, but then there was this uuuh specific case

where someone who followed me for the t*robb who also followed her at some point asked me in private if a 22k t*robb fic that was the sequel to... my most famous/popular jb one let's put like that had a lot of jb in it because they were die hard jc people and it was triggering to them (which... I mean fair enough but in retrospective using that term instead of 'you know I really don't vibe with jb and I'd rather not read it' felt a bit like they were trying to guilt trip me ngl), I said that they showed up together in two scenes and were in the background and at most it was 1k worth of fic and the answer was that it was way too much so they were going to have to skip and like again their prerogative but idk that conversation kind of left me like is this some kind of roundabout way to say that it'd be better if I didn't sideship them? idk but until S3-4 I had the distinct feeling that at least for my own stuff having both ships together meant less readers and ngl I didn't update the infamous t*robb wip fic for a year because I was planning to make jb fairly prominent as a sideship there and I was there like 'oh god what if I get wank over it' and I didn't but again I would like to state it wasn't just because of one person, it was... the general atmosphere that seemed unfriendly unless you stayed on the jb tag/kept both separate

and I would like to add that the moment S3 happened and it sailed anyway bc it was going to was when the targeted harassing of anyone who was active on the tag started ssssso :|

basically like... I have a lot less evidence to go on re ^^^^ than the j*nsa stuff because that is well-documented the rest is my very humble opinion about the background of when j*aimesansa started getting popular but like it also was v. prominent in between jc people (same with the jcsansa threesomes) who were also following that person - I would like to also add that a bunch of ppl who shipped both were absolutely lovely and nice to interact with in other situations and not harassing anyone about it and again nothing against ppl into it as a thing but the moment of its peak was in conjuncture to the burning ground around jb moment driven by that specific person so *shrug*

#1 #2 #4 #5 #3 #anonymous #ask post #anti-jaime x sansa #anti jaime x sansa #anti jaime x cersei #anti-jaime x cersei #anti-cersei lannister #anti cersei lannister #again it's me going with what i recall but i'm p. sure some ppl who were around then can corroborate #*in jb fandom i mean

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