nowitsdarkfic

[nowitsdarkfic]

a little something something for the four-year anniversary coming up here on friday 🔥

time is coming | a continuation of the original now it’s dark

you’ll undoubtedly have to read the initial trilogy to understand the universe here, but i’ll try and make it so it can stand alone. i ain’t putting this on ao3 because it’ll be my attempt at a comic book and to make a long story short, i can’t really focus on the writing on there making a comic out of the text (i learned my lesson after doing the comic for amped and wired).

June 1, 1989. Oswego, New York.

It sure is good to have my old job back in singing with Anthrax, even if it meant pushing John out of the fold. I can still feel the fire directed at me, but I can handle it all, though. If I nearly drowned in the lake and nearly been blown up by a nuke, then I can handle the four of them. But then again, it’s going to be something to rearrange my hockey games with singing sessions and touring sessions, and especially on such short notice.

I have my demo tape, too, produced and polished by Lars of all people. It’s not like I’ll be starving to death at all.

I still think of Maya, though. I saved her as well as the whole world, and the fact that I singlehandedly took down an entire industry still feels surreal to me. Even after five months, it still feels like a dream.

My place also feels empty after the ghosts left and returned to the other side.

It’s all changed. It’s all morphed around and made into something I don’t recognize, and yet I still feel something in the wings. After all that thinking, and all that investigating, I came across this huge ecosystem where the dead were able to cross over into our world, and my grandfather was a part of it all as well. The land could be desecrated against the will of someone else, and if it happened once, it could unquestionably happen again. Even after twelve days, I knew that something could take its place. An industry fell, and one that took place over the course of some decades.

Something had to fill the void, especially with something that was supposedly too big to fail.

I may be a damn Injun, but I’m not an idiot. Being around someone as smart as Lars gave me something else, something that I could go by. Lars said it’s a new era to celebrate, but all this time, I have had this nagging, persistent feeling within me that celebrations won’t last for very long.

It’s another one of those hot and humid days in upstate New York where the mercury isn’t very high but you would swear that it’s raining: it’s not quite the lake effect but it’s definitely something that makes me wish for snow again all day. I should wish for snow so I could curl up in bed again.

Then again, even if I could curl up in bed all day, there’s still plenty of things to do. I’m not the poor boy anymore trying to find his way around the world without the anchor of his band: now I’m the poor boy back in the band and with odd times to deal with from thence forth.

I sit up in bed, and I look out the window to the bright sunlight out there: the plants in full form, the fact that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the feeling of the first heat wave on the horizon. Even in the summer time, it’s so weird sleeping without the ghosts, especially when I expect to find Vera at the foot of my bed or Nerissa right next to me.

I guess it’s not that bad. The last day at the hockey game, we were freezing our asses off, but at least we managed to play the game, though. I put on a sweater, and that long black winter coat as well as my black pants. I think I’m always going to be the man in black, more than the man in black himself.

The sun beats down upon my hair as I’m walking out there, and I know that it can pick up at any given point and time while I’m walking towards the street. Broad daylight and I’m still thinking about that night when I found Maya on the sidewalk. I don’t even want to think about finding another girl in a gutter, especially when I know for a fact that she could lead me to my own death.

The ghosts returned to the other side, but I’m still haunted. I have my hands on the sides of my head even though my head feels fine. It’s too hot and humid. I need something to eat, something to drink, something to do, something to take my mind off those scars and those memories.

Calm down, Joe. Calm down. It’s all behind you. It’s a brand-new day. Never forget where you came from but it’s to build up fresh new memories.

I clasp my hands to my face and I glance back to my apartment complex.

I just want to go for a ride.

I go back to my place and fetch my keys, and I get in my car and drive out of there. There’s always one place that I can go to, especially with my demo tape in the process of being made over there, and my hope is that I can get there before the afternoon thunderstorms flare up over the lake surface, and if the beads of sweat on the side my body are anything to go by, it’s practically inevitable. I keep my hands out of the direct sunlight while I’m steering, and it’s way easier said than done: my car is still a piece of crap and more so after all of that at the beginning of the year. Add to this, the air conditioner barely works and the heater finally gave out for real that time. 

And once again, I’m hungry and on the way over to Rochester, through the trees and without a place to stop for a time, except Spence is elsewhere. I’m still driving anyway because there’s only one place that I want to be at the moment. At least this time around, I’m not so hungry that I feel ready to puke there on the floor below the steering wheel.

I recognize the skyline, and I follow my nose to that familiar brick building. I can still smell the fine fabrics. I can still smell everything.

In fact, I can still feel everything. Even though it hadn’t been for very long, it still felt like a distant memory of sorts. I have to find myself a new mindset away from it all, away from the feelings that had haunted me in the wake of the ghosts leaving the apartment.

I take the spot before the front doors. I recognize those black letters on the white background over the bright lights: Sew Into You.

I find my way inside only to be greeted by the black and white checkerboard floor, the presence of the checkerboard all around me, and of course, that blast of air conditioning upon my head as well. I know her headband anywhere, and more so when she turns around and smiles at me as she’s holding a tulle of white lace.

“Hey, Marcia!” I stop right in my tracks at the sight of the deep purple crescent shape around her eye.

“Hey, Joey,” she greets me, and then she stops right at her tracks as well.

“What—what happened to your face?” I gasp upon sight of her.

“Oh—” She chuckles and runs her fingers over her black eye. “I got into boxing after the whole… adventure this past winter,” she tells me.

“Boxing, wow! You don’t see that every day, at least not with girls.”

“Sonia’s been my trainer, too,” she adds. “In fact, she and I both have training and working out quite a bit these last few months. I do boxing, she does that Israeli one—”

“Krav Maga?” It takes me a second.

“Yeah, that one! Add to this, the two of us also do capoeira on the weekends. We’re getting stronger and harder every day after work. You never know when your friends are going to fall into a big-ass ordeal again.”

Right as she says that, the ceiling light over us cuts out and we’re engulfed in darkness, albeit for a second: it comes back within a couple of seconds.

“What the hell?” I wonder aloud.

“The power’s been cutting in and out like this all week long,” she explains as she sets the lace down on the counter behind her. “No idea why and we can’t get an electrician in here, either.” She reaches up for a caress of her black eye once again, and that time she grimaces from the feeling. “I’ll be right back, this is starting to hurt like a son of a bitch…”

As she walks out of there, I turn my attention to the other fabrics right behind me.

There’s a guy on the other side of the tulles… and he looks like me. His long wavy hair the color of molasses, and his smooth skin kissed by the sun, and I am intrigued almost immediately. He’s looking at all the checkerboard fabrics, and I am particularly intrigued by his long and lanky fingers as they caress over the spines of the tulles.

He then turns and looks back at me, and his eyes are as bright as diamonds.

“Hey,” he greets me: his voice is low, almost gruff, and quite sensual.

“Hey,” I reply back to him, complete with a clearing of my throat. “Like what you see?”

“Of course. I could totally use some of this back out in California. You wouldn’t think of it as getting all that cold out there, but it does.”

“California, really?�� I show him a little smile. “What brings you to upstate New York?”

“A little relaxation before we head back into the studio,” he explains. “It’s been a little get away for the five of us the last four months, and now it’s time to wrap it all up.”

“Five? Another quintet?”

“Yeah. Why do you ask?” He chuckles at that, rather amused.

“I’m the lead singer of a band, too, and there’s five of us.”

“Dude—” He raises his hand for me, and I give him a high five.

“Dude!” And I feel my heart fluttering from the feeling, and I’m not sure what’s come over me, either. But I hunch my shoulders and embrace the chill up my spine.

“Would you like to take a walk with me?” he offers.

“I kinda just came here to hang out, so… yeah.” I crack him a smile, and I tuck my hands into my pockets.

“I’m Chuck,” he says.

“I’m Joey.”

It’s right then I wonder what Lars is doing right then, especially when we last spoke back in January after the dust had settled. A time to celebrate, was the last thing he had said to me.

He and I walk back outside to that overbearing humidity, but as long as I’m walking with someone else, and someone who didn’t get sparred in the face on accident: there is no way that Marcia can see straight, and I really just have to be away from the empty apartment at the end of it all.

I can’t go back to Black Orchid, even though I know that I’m always welcome back there. I need something outside of the pleasures of the flesh with a bunch of classy as hell girls.

He’s a fair bit taller than me, and quite a bit burlier as well, but my eyes are drawn to his slender waist and sinewy thighs. I don’t really know how to explain it but I feel something with him.

“I hope that we don’t walk too far from there,” I confess to him.

“Oh, we won’t,” he assures me, and he shows me a thoughtful little smile.

“You’re Native American, right?”

“Pomo. From Northern California.”

“I’m Iroquois, from just a block from here,” I retort, and he chuckles at that.

We reach the street corner, and all of a sudden, he stops me dead in my tracks with a hand on my chest. It’s a feeling I can’t really put my finger on, but I actually like the way that his hand feels on my body. But then he points to the street before use: there’s a line of trees up ahead of us, followed by the end of the street itself only for it to end into a dirt road.

In the bushes, I see something move.

“What the hell is that?” he demands in a hushed voice even though we’re a ways away.

As far as I know, it’s Death again.

We glance at one another and then he gestures for me to follow him. I swallow, and I have a bad feeling about this. Five months of quietness went by too fast.

But we’re walking, and he’s bringing us to the bushes in question. Indeed, there’s a pathway back into the trees.

She has long scarlet hair and is wearing a long black gown. She’s holding something in her hand.

“Get down, get down…” he whispers to me.

We both hunker down behind the bushes and we watch the witch down by the trees. The sunlight shines through the trees onto her head and shoulders. The thing in her hand is a skull. It takes me a second to realize that it’s also sparkling.

“Do you think she’ll eat us?” he asks me.

“Eat us?” I raise an eyebrow at that. “I don’t think I can ever imagine a witch eating two Native American guys whole, not without spiking a lot of shit with some mad juju.”

He snickers at that.

“She could make a stew out of us,” Chuck cracks. We watch her until she vanishes into the shadows before us, and we glance at one another.

“What do you think we should do?” he asks me.

“We’ll have to follow her,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, especially when I know that Marcia is going to be out of it for a time. “We’re going to have to be incredibly quiet, though.”

He nods, and then, with our heads bowed, we creep into the trees. It might seem a bit odd to go on another adventure and with someone who I had just met, but I had done it before, and I was going to be damned if I didn’t do it again. I keep my head down a bit as I lead the way to the clearing, and we’re met with a ring of low pine trees all along the rim. A fine layer of mist surrounds us, even with it still being rather warm outside.

“I’m gonna have to hit up Lars again,” I say under my breath. “I have to call him again, anyway, he’s got my solo album.”

“You’re making a solo album?”

“Yeah.” I turn my attention back to him, and I show him a smile. But before either of us can say anything else, we’re met with a flash of heat upon our heads as well as bright blue light from the canopy of the trees.

“Holy shit—” He grips onto me and the two of us bow down towards the bushes. Against the blue light, which is giving me some serious flashbacks, there are the silhouettes of witch hats and their heads against the trees. I almost feel like I shouldn’t be there.

Chuck and I are going to get our clocks cleaned right after we had just met one another. There’s a tree branch right next to me, and I pull it before us to protect us.

“Leave, believe, retreat!” the witches chant in unison. “Leave, believe, retreat! Leave, believe, retreat!”

“Oh, god, it’s like the worst thing you can imagine,” he says right into my ear.

“LEAVE, BELIEVE, RETREAT!”

This is followed by a loud crack!, followed by a series of bright green, red, and white sparks and another wave of heat upon our heads. I open my eyes to find the witches gone, but there are two figures on the ground on the other side of the clearing. Before I can do anything, Chuck moves out from behind me to investigate it all.

I hold still for a second as he creeps on over to them.

He then turns towards me with a worried look on his face.

“Joey, these two boys could be hurt! Help me!”

I raise my eyebrows at that.

“Oh my god in heaven,” is all I can muster out. But I go over to him, anyway, and every step gives me a deeper pit in my stomach.

The two boys have darker skin in comparison to us, but by the look of their smooth almond-shaped eyes and their pushed in noses, I can tell they hail from Asia. Their long black hair tells me everything I need to know, and the smell of incense and sulfur gives me some ideas. Whatever those witches did to these boys, I knew in my heart that no doctor could solve it because they wouldn’t tell us anything, just like how they couldn’t possibly say anything about Maya or about my grandpa.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” I grumble to myself, and I help him pick up the two boys from the ground.

[nowitsdarkfic]

amped and wired, part one

chapter ten // for the fight

pages 111, 112, 113, 114, and 115

Keep reading

[nowitsdarkfic]

amped and wired, part one

chapter nine // the deathsurround

pages (here it goes) 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, and 110

Keep reading

[nowitsdarkfic]

amped and wired, part one

chapter eight // magnolia blvd.

pages 99, 100, 101, 102, and 103

Keep reading

[nowitsdarkfic]

amped and wired, part one

chapter eight // magnolia blvd.

pages 96, 97, and 98

Keep reading

[nowitsdarkfic]

amped and wired, part one

chapter six // give me reason

pages 82, 83, 84, 85, and 86

Keep reading

[nowitsdarkfic]

amped and wired, part one

chapter six // give me reason

pages 78, 79, 80, and 81

Keep reading

[nowitsdarkfic]

We’re all kind of in this together. We have to support each other. Even inflammatory statements are a form of support.

lars from now it’s dark, chapter 17: cry for the indian summer (november 2019)

i don’t even remember writing that.

but that’s one of the many things from the trilogy that’s aged so well, it actually scares me.

(via josiebelladonna)

[nowitsdarkfic]

amped and wired, part one

chapter five // in denial

pages 74, 75, 76, and 77

Keep reading

[nowitsdarkfic]

amped and wired, part one

chapter five // in denial

pages 69, 70, 71, 72, and 73

Keep reading

[nowitsdarkfic]

buried alive | charlie benante (on Wattpad) 

what would you do, and how would you react, if you found you only had three days to live? and the curse came from beyond the grave? *the accompanying piece to six feet under

without question, one of the darkest things i’ve written - and i’ve written some pretty dark and twisted stuff, so that’s saying something.

[nowitsdarkfic]

six feet under | scott ian (on Wattpad)

Scott looks back on a forbidden, budding romance with fellow New York musician Kristina Mayfield, fifteen years following her passing in his spoken word tour on a special date in the northeast.

[nowitsdarkfic]

amped and wired, part one

chapter four // #iwokeuplikethis

pages 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, and 68

Keep reading

[nowitsdarkfic]

amped and wired, part one

chapter three // never go back

pages 59, 60, 61, and 62

Keep reading

[nowitsdarkfic]

poking my head out to say that one of the reasons why i logged off (save for fb, ig, and my writing pages of course) was to get away from everything and everyone. i can’t explain it but… people in general are just really pissing me off. the constant snide cockiness that pervades politics, certain things being so unavoidable that i have no choice but to step away or it’ll drive me insane, and people still not listening to me…

alright, the only reason my callout posts seemed so long was because that’s just my thought process. i think like a scientist and i’m also an emotional person. really, no offense, but all things aside… people on here are getting more and more emotionally disconnected, and it’s frightening. it’s why you have far more memes than art now. memes are forgotten in a short amount of time (look no further than that bernie meme; literally everywhere for like two days and then i never saw it again), but art makes you smart and opens your heart, and i even said in my fair use post that i do what i can to simplify it. but serious things like that are naturally complex, so sometimes you literally just can’t. you have to go long because there’s a lot involved.

i decided on the nuclear option with the fair use post, and then i left it to not only get away, but to show that daveigh has absolutely no right to get mad at me on any reasonable front. she actually never had the right to get mad at me. you chose to act like that, not me. you chose to hoodwink and steal from me and countless others and then play the victim. you chose to let it get to you, and then you chose to throw a tantrum like the real mature adult that you are, and then bring that same disgusting behavior into another fandom. it’s all on you.

in fact… this is the kind of thing you learn about in the 12 step program and i know this because i went through al-anon and al-a-teen, and it was the whole point of her fic stay. no one forces you into problematic behavior: you decided to do it and it’s no one’s fault but your own if you can’t take it. if anything, my ramblings are… meant to help her. it’s all meant to help, and you know, what NOT to do in the world of writing or anything creative. if i ever seemed mean, it’s because it’s all very upsetting for me. and the fact she keeps hitting back to me tells me just how callous and truly uncaring she is.

i also feel like people on here are acting very strange as of late. i can’t explain it but things on here feel “off”. every time i look at my dash, i think, “something’s not right here. i don’t know if it’s me or trauma from last year or something else. but there’s this unspoken feeling on here that everyone is out of their goddamn minds.”

another reason was i started getting sick. spoiler alert: it’s sinusitis. i woke up last tuesday with the absolute worst headache i had in years, and my face was killing me all day yesterday. just this hard, incessant pounding in my forehead and around my eyes that actually woke me up. some old geezer in the market wasn’t wearing a mask but i was, and i was keeping the six feet distance from him, and i washed my hands twice + used the hand sanitizer they have at the front door.

but a week went by and i never developed a cough or a fever—still haven’t. in fact, i actually feel fine otherwise, and i take my vitamins and eat healthily to beef up my immune system, but it all checks out as a sinus infection. i probably picked up some bacteria in wally world because evolution is a thing and i live in a 45 bastion: this area is full of rich white bible-thumpers who sincerely believe that he’s still president and laugh at the notion of mask wearing and barely wash their hands to where a germaphobe like myself is like, “i don’t even want to be within 10 feet of you, let alone 6.”

seriously, this pandemic has made me so agoraphobic. i don’t know how you essential workers do it. when i woke up that morning and my head was killing me and my nose was all runny, i had every right to assume that it was… it. you know… it. so figure it was easy for a smart person like me to assume that.

i remember actually thinking yesterday, “i can’t have this. not me, not here.” because i know how it can all slip away, be it your reputation or yourself. so i stepped away because we live in a time where something innocuous like a sinus infection is enough to bring on a new level of unwelcome anxiety.

but i’m working on my webcomic and writing the dead of night, and i’m also going through and proofreading now it’s dark and publishing it back up to wattpad—and once again, my new name there is nowitsdark 😘

[nowitsdarkfic]

i keep seeing the term “fair use” being thrown around at her, and the inigo montoya inside my head keeps saying, “you keep using that word. i don’t think it means what you think it means.”

because let’s look at the actual definition of fair use (this is courtesy of google):

(in US copyright law) the doctrine that brief excerpts of copyright material may, under certain circumstances, be quoted verbatim for purposes such as criticism, news reporting, teaching, and research, without the need for permission from or payment to the copyright holder.

this whole concept is very elaborate and thorough, and therefore not easily explained especially to the general public, but i’m going to try my best and break it down and write in a way that anybody can understand this.

fair use is an exemption to copyright law. there are four determining factors for fair use (this is courtesy of columbia university):

the purpose and character of the use

the nature of the copyrighted work

the amount or substantiality of the portion used

the effect of the use and value of the work

fanfiction as a whole is protected by fair use laws, at least here in the states and in canada (otherwise, it depends on where you are in other parts of the world) because it checks out on all four factors: you’re using copyrighted material in the case to tell a story. this is archive of our own’s raison d’etre. this is the organization for transformative works’ (which runs ao3) bread and butter.

and because fanfiction being as prevalent as it is, it’s hard to take it case by case. another thing that protects fanfiction - forgive me ahead of time if this upsets you - but it’s the fact that most fanfiction is in fact garbage, so it’s hard to get mad and justify anger at a writer for writing an endeavor as such (looking at you, george r.r. martin, marion zimmer bradley, and anne rice).

however, in the case of daveigh and her writings, this is where i come in.

the purpose and character: the page points out to not jump to conclusions when you try to highlight educational purposes, which is a major reasoning behind the argument of fair use upon something. are you teaching the world about the men you’re writing about? yes, but, is it done in a transformative manner? and the answer to that is no.

taking joey belladonna’s life story circa 1990 and swapping out krista for someone else is not a transformation, especially when the canon of anthrax is changed to where joey remains with them throughout the 90s. granted this isn’t copyright because joey is a real man, but in this case, it reads more like an unauthorized biography, which is actually worse because when writing a biography on a public forum like wattpad, a place where publishers actually go to, you have to go to the person you’re writing about and not only get permission, but actually sit down with them and interview them (god forbid). it’s one thing when here on tumblr to make a blog dedicated to a band or an artist or whoever, because you’re teaching the public about them that way.

something tells me she didn’t do any of that. but that’s another post for another day. you also have to bring in the other three factors when purpose and character does not uphold fair use. another determining factor for purpose and character is nature.

are you using it for parody, satire, criticism, or creative flaunting? if you use it solely for teaching the public, odds are it is not fair use.

you know those reviews of movies or music you see on youtube? those are protected by fair use: some of them, like yourmoviesucks and adoseofbuckley, have even started their own business making reviews because of the protective power of fair use laws in the united states and canada (adoseofbuckley being canadian - that said, it’s because of this, monetization is not a determining factor of whether or not it’s fair use).

that critique daveigh often complained about that was written when state of euphoria was in the early stages of writing? that’s fair use, too, because whoever wrote it was upholding it to criticism and ridicule. and it’s because of this, she had no right to complain about it.

now if she was poking fun at joey (and i can tell you right now she wasn’t - and this applies to all her writings), i probably wouldn’t have made this point.

in the case of stay, there is definitely a bit of commentary with dave spending a week to try and stop joey from jumping off a bridge, but because the commentary is withheld for the most part, you can’t argue fair use, which leads me to the next point: the amount used.

columbia says it’s not always obvious to point this out, given the quantity as well as the quality. a chapter of a fanfiction is small, however naming your bdsm one-shot “a sensation of elation” in the wake of an art collection that you yourself have seen is not fair use (it’s also plagiarism given the art collection in question is from me). my naming another art collection after spreading the disease when i haven’t seen your new fic also called that is called coincidence; art is also another example of protection by fair use laws because it comes down to the aforementioned creativity. i can make fanart and my webcomic for amped and wired, and i’m protected. but the point here is if the miniscule content used is the heart and soul of the work, you cannot call it fair use.

and last but not least, the fourth point is the effect of the use and the value of the work. columbia says this is where it gets complicated but since it’s a case-by-case approach, this should be easy in the case of anthrax and bandfic. all it means by value is could you have chosen another work or author over her? and the answer is yes. myself, as well as honeysympathy and discodeakydancing on wattpad, and a couple of unknowns on rockfic. as for bandfic itself, you can find it in spades and you can take up the endeavor yourself. occasional quotes and usage of another author’s colloquialisms is innocuous, but using whole passages and gimmicks from another author is not fair use.

a plot point of state of euphoria as well as a sensation of elation is the sex shop cherry pie, which is both the title of a warrant song and a line in the marcy playground song “sex and candy” (one of my favorites no less), a line which i threw out at her while i was reading state of euphoria. did you get permission from warrant and marcy playground to use in your fanfic? if so, you cannot call fair use.

and we’re not even touching on the amount of plagiarism she’s done to me and a myriad of others including (but not limited to) krista belladonna and also carla harvey.

to name a fic or a piece of writing or a piece of art after a record, or a song, or better yet a line from a song is fact fair use given the transformation, the creativity, and the content involved, however it gets shaky once you fully examine daveigh’s (and also my) writings as a whole because the second point applies more to fictional works and rpf straddles the line of fiction and otherwise.

i consider most of my own writing satire, and my own series now it’s dark, is considered satire. joey’s narration is the entire point of the main trilogy, so it not only tells a story but you learn about the man in question. it’s transformative: it’s a sci-fi story, and it’s based off of an actual point in anthrax’s canon: they were discussing firing joey around state of euphoria era. as i’m republishing the trilogy and accompanying works amped and wired and the dead trilogy, i am going through and making sure that no mention of the anthrax band name is within the text. add to this, it’s a whole fictional universe, influenced by with strings attached, without question the most famous beatles fic out there. with strings attached was a space age story, with aliens and monsters. now it’s dark is cyberpunk and also gothic fiction given the inclusion of ghosts and primal fears.

my character hannah ellsberg is named after a character rita ellsberg, from another fic called darkness taking dawn. rita also served inspiration for another character, kristina mayfield. however, hannah and rita are nothing alike: rita was a closed off personality and a black metal musician. hannah is an artist and her narration in the dead of night shows that she’s the opposite of closed off. kristina is also nothing like rita, either, given kristina’s folksiness and black magic arc.

my joey one shot sex and candy, named after the aforementioned marcy playground song, revolves around joey and hannah traveling to hershey, pennsylvania for the latter’s birthday. you not only have the inclusion of candy but there’s also a bit of action involved with joey and hannah being hounded by paparazzi. it’s transformative at its heart, and i never quote the song any further than in titular form. this also applies to another one shot called my boy, after a billie eilish song, as well as bon appetit, which, katy perry aside, is a classic french phrase.

but it’s hard to argue that what she’s doing is truly transformative or worth anyone’s time for that matter because you can get it in spades and you yourself can try it out and make wiser choices upon telling the story. and it’s hard to argue for her, and that what she’s doing is in fact fair use. in fact, with ao3 involved, not only can you not call it fair use, but you can determine it as abuse of their mantra of fair use. writing an arguably unauthorized biography about a man whom you have not met and have never spoken to outside of instagram comments (and after everything i’ve said, probably wants nothing to do with you because it’s despicable) is not fair use; if anything it feels more like a reproduction because you’re only changing two elements: his heart and the history. writing another arguably unauthorized biography about a man who’s been dead since 2010 and your only source is hearsay rather than his estate is not fair use.

in fact, it’s possible someone can figure out how to file a dmca claim against daveigh because she’s abusing their fair use policy and blaming another writer hostage for no reason other than an unwarranted apology (that would be me). wattpad claims to be “zero tolerance” against plagiarism, but they’ve never sorted any of it out beyond their policies because if you have daveighmustaine on the front cover of a “fanfiction” (anything she writes, i’m putting in quotes because it’s more product than fanfiction), it’ll rake in the ad revenue for them whether anyone likes it or not. a thousand reads on a “fanfiction” means they get money and the author gets nothing except the delusion that they’re the best ever.

so not only is the argument of fair use on her part not justified at all, but the slime that makes up her behavior is waist deep.

my sources: columbia university as well as this video from yourmoviesucks: he goes more in-depth into it and he talks about fair use from a youtube standpoint but it’s the exact same gist.

[nowitsdarkfic]

i’m gonna go private on main here for a little bit, just to protect myself.

apparently, she’s getting… pretty hostile and i really, really don’t want to be around that (i don’t want you guys to be around that, either: again, protect yourselves.). so i’m not only gonna go quiet but i’m going to hide, too. i’m not gonna lie: this is actually scaring me. i wanted justice for myself and maybe for her to realize the error of her ways (she had so many unresolved issues when she came online and that was the problem), because what happened between us was very traumatizing for me. when i found out she blocked me on all fronts and i couldn’t ask her what was wrong, i honestly thought i did something bad.

i actually saw her as a friend so it was so baffling. and then i looked back and saw the truth about her towards me.

and now i feel like i’ve made a monster all because of my own inquiring mind.

so if she tries to come after me (or any of you, for that matter), remember this phrase: “don’t shoot the messenger.”

she’s the one who needs her shit sorted out, not me.