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infidesveritas · 8 months ago

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Dear Obikin Fandom,

You're a good lot. You really are. It's a wonderful fandom, and I wish for it to stay that way. Which is why I want to bring an important issue to attention, unpleasant as it is.

There's been plagiarism going around in the past year that has been disheartening. Some of you might know about the Teen Wolf situation where an anon posted an "Obikin fic" (Tenure Be Damned) which in actuality is a Sterek fic from 2016. (Untouchable). Some of you might not. There's been other cases, but they've been handled privately, or the authors in question have left the fandom rather than deal with the evidence of theft.

However, there's one author who has not left, and that is AO3 author lady_evelin. The majority of their body of work is in a gray area as to what constitutes plagiarism and what doesn't, but there is one fic (technically two) which flagrantly steals from a book.

This author has been known to toe the line (or step over it; everyone's judgment may vary on the situation) for the past six months or more, but for various reasons, it was kept quiet, though knowledge of this behaviour still made its way throughout the fandom.

Reports have been filed with AO3, but they have yet to do anything. That is not a fault on the part of AO3, they are volunteers and process many, many reports. But it's been months, and this author has begun joining collaborative projects in the fandom, which has started to have a direct impact on perceptions of these events, and as such, on the people involved in them.

The fic(s) in question are Flowers in the Attic / Flores En El Ático. The fics profess to be based off the movie (of the same name) and that, in itself, is fine. Fanfiction using a movie or a book as a basis is not plagiarism.

Outright copying word for word from a book, however, is.

[CONTEXT BREAK: Flowers in the Attic is a 1979 novel by VC Andrews. Flowers in the Attic has sold over 40 million copies, and has been translated into multiple languages. It has two movie adaptations, and several sequels.]

Proof will be underneath the cut (text & pictures). I invite you to verify with your own copies of the books. This is not an invitation to attack lady_evelin either on AO3, Twitter or on Tumblr. Please do not take it as such.

It is, however, an accusation (one not made lightly) and an open letter to the fandom. There have already been people hurt by lady_evelin’s actions, and it has become a rippling effect with greater and greater consequences.

This is not this is not an isolated event, but the most prominent and obvious one. In a fandom where plagiarism and theft has happened in the past, it's best to pay attention when these things happen, especially when they relate to a published book. This isn’t a case of one fic author taking from another fic author; this is copyright infringement. The sort of thing we do not want lawyers to be interested in.

Do not harass the author. Read the post and make up your own mind.

Please keep in mind that lady_evelin is copying directly from the Spanish version of the book, and then "into" English, so there are some minor differences in text, which do not exist in the Spanish fic compared to the Spanish translation of the book.

But as the main audience of this post will be people who read in English, this is where I will begin.

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[CHAPTER 2 OF FLOWERS IN THE ATTIC, BY LADY_EVELIN]

When I was young, in the early 1950s, I thought that my whole life was going to be like a long, splendid summer day. After all, that's how it started. I can't say much about our early childhood except that it was very enjoyable, for which I should be eternally grateful. We weren't rich, but we weren't poor either. If we lacked anything, I can't think of what it could have been. If we had luxuries, I couldn't say what they were without comparing our lives to everyone else's, and in our middle-class neighborhood, no one had more or less than we did. That is to say, comparing one thing with another, our life was that of ordinary, average children.

Our father was in charge of public relations for a large computer company based in Gladstone, Pennsylvania, with a population of twelve thousand six hundred and two. Our father was very successful at his job because his boss often came home for lunch and praised the job that Dad did so well.

Our father was perfect. He was six feet tall, weighed eighty-two kilos, and his hair was long and deep brown blonde and just straight enough to be very attractive. His eyes were sky blue and full of life and good humor. His nose was straight—not too long, not too narrow, not too thick. He played tennis and golf like a pro, and swam so often that he stayed stiff year-round. He was always flying abroad for work, while we stayed at home, in the care of our omega mother.

When he came home and walked in the front door every Friday afternoon (he used to say that he was horrified at the thought of being separated from us for more than five days in a row), even if it was raining or snowing, the sun seemed to shine again as soon as he gave us his big, happy smile.

"Come greet me with kisses if you love me!"

My brother and I used to hide near the front door. As soon as we heard his greeting, we would run out from behind a chair or the sofa to throw ourselves into his wide open arms, which would greet us and lift us up immediately. He pressed us tightly to his chest and warmed our faces with his kisses. Friday was the best of days, because he was bringing us back to Dad to be with us. In the pockets of his suit, we found small gifts, but in the suitcase, he kept the larger gifts, which he gave us one by one as soon as he greeted our mother, who used to wait patiently in the background until she had finished with us. After receiving the presents, Anakin and I would step aside to watch Mom approach slowly with a welcoming smile that made Dad's eyes sparkle as he took her in his arms and stared into her face, as if he hadn't seen her for at least a year.

On Fridays, Mom spent all day at the beauty salon getting her hair and nails done, and then she'd go home and take a long bath of scented water. I would go into her room to watch her come out of the bathroom wrapped in a transparent dressing gown. Then, she would sit at her dressing table and carefully apply makeup. And I, eager to learn, absorbed everything I saw her doing to become, from the beautiful woman she was, into a being so strikingly beautiful that she didn't seem real. The most amazing thing was that our father was convinced that she hadn't put on makeup, and he thought that Mom had stunning natural beauty.

The word "love" was squandered in our house: "Do you love me? I love you very much. Did you miss me? Are you glad to see me home again? Did you think of me these days, every night? Were you restless, longing for me to come back to you?" He hugged us. "Look, Shmi, if it weren't like that, maybe I'd rather die."

And Mom knew how to answer these questions very well: with her eyes, with soft whispers, and with kisses.

One day, Anakin and I were running home from school, while the winter wind pushed us, making us get into the house as quickly as possible.

"Hey, take off your boots and leave them in the hall!" Mom yelled at us from the living room, where I could see her sitting in front of the fireplace, making a knitted sweater that looked like it was for a doll. I thought it would be a Christmas present for one of my dolls. "And take off your shoes before you come in here," she added.

We took off our boots, winter coats, and hats in the hall and then ran into the sitting room, with its thick white carpet, in our socks. That room, pastel and decorated to accentuate my mother's soft beauty, was almost always forbidden to us. It was our guest room, our mother's room, and we never really felt comfortable on the apricot-covered couch or the velvet chairs. We preferred Dad's room, with its dark coffered ceiling walls and sturdy plaid couch, where we could roll around and play, never worrying about messing anything up.

"It's freezing outside, Mom!" I exclaimed, breathless, throwing myself at his feet and putting my legs close to the fire. "But the ride home by bike was beautiful, with the trees gleaming with bits of ice that looked like diamonds, and crystal prisms in the bushes. It looks like a fairy landscape, Mom, I wouldn't want to live in the South, where it never snows."

Anakin wasn't talking about time and its frozen beauty. He was two years and five months older than I, and much wiser than I was; I know that now. His icy feet warmed as I did, but his eyes were fixed on Mom's face, and his dark brows were furrowed with uneasiness.

I, too, looked up at her, wondering what Anakin would see to make me feel such concern. Mom was knitting quickly and surely, though she glanced at the instructions from time to time.

"Mom, are you okay?" Anakin asked.

"Yes, of course," she replied with a soft, sweet smile.

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[FLOWERS IN THE ATTIC BY VC ANDREWS]

Truly, when I was very young, way back in the Fifties, I believed all of life would be like one long and perfect summer day. After all, it did start out that way. There's not much I can say about our earliest childhood except that it was very good, and for that, I should be everlastingly grateful. We weren't rich, we weren't poor. If we lacked some necessity, I couldn't name it; if we had luxuries, I couldn't name those, either, without comparing what we had to what others had, and nobody had more or less in our middleclass neighborhood. In other words, short and simple, we were just ordinary, run-of-the-mill children.

Our daddy was a P.R. man for a large computer manufacturing firm located in Gladstone, Pennsylvania: population, 12,602. He was a huge success, our father, for often his boss dined with us, and bragged about the job Daddy seemed to perform so well. "It's that all-American, wholesome, devastatingly good-looking face and charming manner that does them in. Great God in heaven, Chris, what sensible person could resist a fella like you?"

Heartily, I agreed with that. Our father was perfect. He stood six feet two, weighed 180 pounds, and his hair was thick and flaxen blond, and waved just enough to be perfect; his eyes were cerulean blue and they sparkled with laughter, with his great zest for living and having fun. His nose was straight and neither too long nor too narrow, nor too thick. He played tennis and golf like a pro and swam so much he kept a suntan all through the year. He was always dashing off on airplanes to California, to Florida, to Arizona, or to Hawaii, or even abroad on business, while we were left at home in the care of our mother.

When he came through the front door late on Friday afternoons--every Friday afternoon (he said he couldn't bear to be separated from us for longer than five days)--even if it were raining or snowing, the sun shone when he beamed his broad, happy smile on us.

His booming greeting rang out as soon as he put down his suitcase and briefcase: "Come greet me with kisses if you love me!"

Somewhere near the front door, my brother and I would be hiding, and after he'd called out his greeting, we'd dash out from behind a chair or the sofa to crash into his wide open arms, which seized us up at once and held us close, and he warmed our lips with his kisses. Fridays--they were the best days of all, for they brought Daddy home to us again. In his suit pockets he carried small gifts for us; in his suitcases he stored the larger ones to dole out after he greeted our mother, who would hang back and wait patiently until he had done with us.

And after we had our little gifts from his pockets, Christopher and I would back off to watch Momma drift slowly forward, her lips curved in a welcoming smile that lit up our father's eyes, and he'd take her in his arms, and stare down into her face as if he hadn't seen her for at least a year.

On Fridays, Momma spent half the day in the beauty parlor having her hair shampooed and set and her fingernails polished, and then she'd come home to take a long bath in perfumed-oiled water. I'd perch in her dressing room, and wait to watch her emerge in a filmy negligee. She'd sit at her dressing table to meticulously apply makeup. And I, so eager to learn, drank in everything she did to turn herself from just a pretty woman into a creature so ravishingly beautiful she didn't look real. The most amazing part of this was our father thought she didn't wear makeup! He believed she was naturally a striking beauty.

Love was a word lavished about in our home. "Do you love me?--For I most certainly love you; did you miss me?--Are you glad I'm home?--Did you think about me when I was gone? Every night? Did you toss and turn and wish I were beside you, holding you close? For if you didn't, Corrine, I might want to die."

Momma knew exactly how to answer questions like these-- with her eyes, with soft whispers and with kisses.

One day Christopher and I came speeding home from school with the wintery wind blowing us through the front door. "Take off your boots in the foyer," Momma called out from the living room, where I could see her sitting before the fireplace knitting a little white sweater fit for a doll to wear. I thought it was a Christmas gift for me, for one of my dolls.

"And kick off your shoes before you come in here," she added. We shed our boots and heavy coats and hoods in the foyer, then raced in stockinged feet into the living room, with its plush white carpet. That pastel room, decorated to flatter our mother's fair beauty, was off limits for us most of the time. This was our company room, our mother's room, and never could we feel really comfortable on the apricot brocade sofa or the cut-velvet chairs. We preferred Daddy's room, with its dark paneled walls and tough plaid sofa, where we could wallow and fight and never fear we were damaging anything. "It's freezing outside, Momma!" I said breathlessly as I fell at her feet, thrusting my legs toward the fire. "But the ride home on our bikes was just beautiful. All the trees are sparkled with diamond icicles, and crystal prisms on the shrubs. It's a fairyland out there, Momma. I wouldn't live down south where it never snows, for anything!" Christopher did not talk about the weather and its freezing beauty. He was two years and five months my senior and he was far wiser than I; I know that now. He warmed his icy feet as I did, but he stared up at Momma's face, a worried frown drawing his dark brows together. I glanced up at her, too, wondering what he saw that made him show such concern. She was knitting at a fast and skilled pace, glancing from time to time at instructions. "Momma, are you feeling all right?" he asked. "Yes, of course," she answered, giving him a soft, sweet smile.

--------

Skipping to chapter 5 to compare the Spanish fic to the Spanish book. Even if you are not fluent in Spanish, I invite you to compare and contrast, as this is where the 1:1 usage of text is most prominent.

[CHAPTER 5: la casa del abuelo (grandfather's house) by lady_evelin]

El día amaneció apenas luminoso tras las pesadas cortinas corridas que se nos había prohibido abrir. Anakin se incorporó primero, bostezando, estirándose, sonriéndome. "Hey, despeinado"

Su pelo aparecía tan despeinado como el mío, incluso mucho más.

No sé por qué Dios les había dado a él y a Leia un pelo tan rizado, mientras que a Luke y a mí nos concedió sólo ondas lizas. Y con toda su energía matutina, se puso a cepillarse bien los cabellos, mientras yo, sentadoen la cama, me decía que ojalá se le escapasen a él de la cabeza para tenerlos en la mía.

Permanecí así, sentado, mirando aquella habitación, que tendría, posiblemente, seis metros de largo y otros tantos de ancho. Espaciosa, pero con dos camas dobles, una cómoda grande y un gran aparador, dos sillas muy mullidas, y un tocador entre las dos ventanas delanteras, además de una mesa de caoba con cuatro sillas, era un cuarto pequeño. Demasiado lleno de cosas. Entre las dos grandes camas había otra mesa con una lámpara.

En total, contábamos con cuatro lámparas en el cuarto. Bajo todos estos pesados muebles oscuros, se extendía una vieja alfombra oriental bordeada de rojo. En otros tiempos, debió de haber sido bonita, pero ahora se veía vieja y gastada. Las paredes estaban empapeladas de color crema, aterciopelado en blanco. Las colchas de las camas eran doradas, y estaban hechas de una tela pesada.

Tres cuadros colgaban de las paredes, pero, ¡por Dios, la verdad era que le dejaban a uno sin respiración! Demonios grotescos que perseguían a gente desnuda por cavernas subterráneas, casi enteramente rojas. Monstruos sobrenaturales devorando a otras almas lamentables, que todavía pataleaban, colgando de sus bocas babosas, de las que brotaban colmillos largos, agudos y relucientes.

"Eso que miras es el infierno, como algunos creen que es" me explicó el sabihondo de mi hermano. “Estoy casi seguro de que fue nuestro angélical abuelo quien colgó esas imágenes aquí con sus propias manos, para hacernos ver lo que nos espera si desobedecemos.“

Mi hermano, la verdad, lo sabía todo. De no ser médico, lo que él quería ser era pintor. Era excepcionalmente buen dibujante, y sabía pintar acuarelas, al óleo, y todo lo demás. Casi todo lo hacía bien, menos poner en orden sus cosas y cuidar de sí mismo.

Justamente cuando iba a levantarme de la cama, Anakin saltó de la suya y me ganó. ¿Por qué tendríamos que estar Luke y yo tan lejos del cuarto de baño? Lleno de impaciencia, me senté al borde de la cama, agitando las piernas y esperando a que saliera.

Leia y Luke, con muchos movimientos inquietos, se despertaron al mismo tiempo. Se incorporaron, bostezando, como reflejos gemelos en un espejo, se frotaron los ojos y miraron, soñolientos, a su alrededor. De pronto, Leia exclamó, en tono lleno de decisión. ��"¡No me gusta este sitio!”

No me sorprendió. Leia era muy obstinada. Desde antes mismo de saber hablar, y empezó a hablar a los nueve meses, ya sabía lo que le gustaba y lo que no. Nunca había términos medios: para Leia, todo estaba por los suelos o a la altura de las nubes.

Tenía la vocecita más linda del mundo cuando estaba contenta, como un pajarito que gorjea lleno de felicidad en plena mañana. Lo malo era que gorjeaba el día entero, excepto cuando estaba dormida. Leia hablaba con las muñecas, con las tazas, con los ositos de trapo y otros animales del mismo tipo.

Cualquier cosa que se estuviese quieta y sin responder era digna de su conversación. Yo, al cabo de un rato, dejaba de darme cuenta de su charla incesante; desconectaba y la dejaba seguir hablando todo lo que ella quisiera.

Luke era completamente distinto. Mientras Leia charlaba sin cesar, Luke se estaba quieto, escuchando atentamente.

"Obi-Wan" murmuro mi hermanita con cara de bebé, “¿me has oído decir que a mí no me gusta este sitio?”

----

CHAPTER 5: La Casa de Abuela (Grandmother's House) by VC Andrews

El día amaneció apenas luminoso tras las pesadas cortinas corridas que se nos había prohibido abrir. Christopher se incorporó el primero, bostezando, estirándose, sonriéndome.

—Eh, desgreñada —me saludó.

Su pelo aparecía tan despeinado como el mío, mucho más.

No sé por qué Dios les había dado a él y a Cory un pelo tan rizado, mientras que a Carrie y a mí nos concedió sólo ondas. Y con toda su energía de muchacho, se puso, lleno de entusiasmo, a cepillarse bien los cabellos, mientras yo, sentada en la cama, me decía que ojalá se le escapasen a él de la cabeza para posarse en la mía.

Permanecí así, sentada, mirando aquella habitación, que tendría, posiblemente, seis metros de largo y otros tantos de ancho. Espaciosa, pero con dos camas dobles, una cómoda grande y un gran aparador, dos sillas muy mullidas, y un tocador entre las dos ventanas delanteras, además de una mesa de caoba con cuatro sillas, se diría que era un cuarto pequeño. Demasiado lleno de cosas. Entre las dos grandes camas había otra mesa con una lámpara.

En total, contábamos con cuatro lámparas en el cuarto. Bajo todos estos pesados muebles oscuros, se extendía una desvaída alfombra oriental bordeada de rojo. En otros tiempos, debió de haber sido bonita, pero ahora se veía vieja y gastada. Las paredes estaban empapeladas de color crema, aterciopelado en blanco. Las colchas de las camas eran doradas, y estaban hechas de una tela pesada, semejante a satén colchado.

Tres cuadros pendían de las paredes, pero, ¡por Dios bendito, la verdad era que le dejaban a una sin respiración! Demonios grotescos que perseguían a gente desnuda por cavernas subterráneas, casi enteramente rojas. Monstruos sobrenaturales devorando a otras almas lamentables, que todavía pataleaban, colgando de sus bocas babosas, de las que brotaban colmillos largos, agudos y relucientes.

—Eso que miras es el infierno, como algunos creen que es —me explicó el sabihondo de mi hermano—. Estoy casi seguro de que fue nuestra angélica abuela quien colgó esas reproducciones aquí con sus propias manos, para hacernos ver lo que nos espera si desobedecemos. Yo diría que son de Goya —comentó.

Mi hermano, la verdad, lo sabía todo. De no ser médico, lo que él quería ser era pintor. Era excepcionalmente buen dibujante, y sabía pintar acuarelas, al óleo, y todo lo demás. Casi todo lo hacía bien, —menos poner en orden sus cosas y cuidar de sí mismo.

Justamente cuando iba a levantarme de la cama, Christopher saltó de la suya y me ganó. ¿Por qué tendríamos que estar Carrie y yo tan lejos del cuarto de baño? Llena de impaciencia, me senté al borde de la cama, agitando las piernas y esperando a que saliera.

Carrie y Cory, con muchos movimientos inquietos, se despertaron al mismo tiempo. Se incorporaron, bostezando, como reflejos gemelos en un espejo, se frotaron los ojos y miraron, soñolientos, a su alrededor. De pronto, Carrie exclamó, en tono lleno de decisión.

—¡No me gusta este sitio!

No me sorprendió. Carrie era muy obstinada. Desde antes mismo de saber hablar, y empezó a hablar a los nueve meses, ya sabía lo que le gustaba y lo que no. Nunca había términos medios: para Carrie, todo estaba por los suelos o a la altura de las nubes.

Tenía la vocecita más mona del mundo cuando estaba contenta, como un pajarito que gorjea lleno de felicidad en plena mañana. Lo malo era que gorjeaba el día entero, excepto cuando estaba dormida. Carrie hablaba con las muñecas, con las tazas y con los ositos de trapo y otros animales del mismo tipo.

Cory era completamente distinto. Mientras Carrie charlaba sin cesar, Cory se estaba quieto, escuchando atentamente. La señora Simpson solía decir que Cory era «agua quieta, pero profunda», y yo continúo sin saber todavía lo que quería decir con esto, excepto que la gente silenciosa suele estar como circundada por una ilusión misteriosa que le hace a una preguntarse lo que habrá debajo de la superficie.

—Cathy —gorjeó mi hermanita con cara de bebé—, ¿me has oído decir que a mí no me gusta este sitio?

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#obikin #obiani

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humanperryfic · 2 months ago

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i'm coming here from perryverse and just like. how do I get as good at writing as you are? what's your secret?

Awww thank you! Crazy that you're saying that since I think I've actually improved a lot since writing that fic.

Obviously the number one answer I have is going to be to just write, a lot. I got good as fast as I did because I bingewatched Phineas and Ferb in the first three days of the original Covid lockdown in March 2020, and then wrote a ton of fic because I was lucky to just be insanely bored.

So write. Write a lot. Write when you can. Slap it all out there on the internet. See what sticks.

Answer number two is going to be read, a lot. But not just passively. Read great fanfiction. Ask yourself why it's great. Read terrible fanfiction. Ask yourself why you hate it. Read real books. Ask yourself about what's going on that you like or don't like, especially between the two mediums of print and fic (because they are different! Also, "real" books tend to use a broader variety of vocabulary, which is always good). Read fic written by people who write English as a second, third, fourth+ language (assuming you're a native english speaker). Ask yourself why you would write/rewrite things to flow a certain way.

Read with an eye for things you want to do yourself.

Answer number three? Always have a little bit of outside perspectives and advice coming into your mind. The best way I've found to keep learning at this point is following people that give advice on writing particular characters or things. @cripplecharacters, @writingwithcolor, and @howtofightwrite are some of my favorite blogs to read whenever they post, and they have invaluable advice.

You're never too good of a writer to not learn new things or unlearn biases/misconceptions.

Answer number four is to keep things rotating in your mind. Not always at the front. But somewhere back there. Keep a running list of ideas on your phone or whatever somewhere I have a Discord server that's literally just me, where I keep my ideas for various things sorted, as well as a Noteful notebook for just...random ideas and plotting things out.

You never know what kind of random idea could be your most interesting fic idea.

Answer number five: Don't throw out any of your writing. Keep things around in whatever form you write in. Microsoft Word, Google Drive, whatever. Keep things around, even if they suck and all you wrote is a sentence and a half. You never know what you might come back to...and hey, keeping the old stuff is a great way to look back and see how far you've come.

Every scrap of writing tells a story. Keep it.

Answer number six: With that in mind, do try out writing an entire fic, plot bunny to published, in the AO3 editor at least once. You have to finish it in the month timespan. You have to publish it. It's a challenge, best suited for a shorter oneshot (though I've done it with fics up to 16.5k words lol), but it'll tell you something about how you write.

(If you fall short, copy/paste it all into a separate document and finish it. Don't waste your work.)

Answer seven: Plot brackets. Plot your fic out by writing the very very basics of what you want to happen in square brackets (ex. [perry goes home] [candace teases him about having a crush on someone]). Fill it in in whatever order you want. Make the brackets short and sweet. Use meme references. Or whatever. Make them stupid. Whatever gets the plot and vibes out onto the page.

[insert summarizing quip here]

Answer eight (the random stuff that I can't do a whole paragraph on each): Onelook Reverse Thesaurus. Lifechanger. When you can, write with your internet/cell service turned all the way off so you don't fall into a research/distraction rabbit hole. Try to write ten words every single day. Take a look at TVTropes every so often- Tropes are Tools, and you should know what's in your toolbox. Write about things you're obsessed with. Write the bad stuff. Write the dumb ideas. Write for the fandom with ten fics.

It doesn't matter. Just write it.

#sam speaks #writing advice #advice #sam's fic #the only secret to good writing is obsession #write about what you care about #also spellcheck please use it #and if you write in word/gdocs use the grammar check #please

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whorediaries-09 · 3 months ago

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hello! im kinda shy about participating in your birthday event so im submitting my ask though my old abandoned account but firstly, happy birthday!! i hope you have a lovely lovely one ahead, and that your year ahead is filled so much love and warmth 💗💗

i pick “you wanted to have fun 🪶”

i have brown-amber eyes, i’m 160-161cm tall (so 5’3? i think). i have one dimple, and i usually get called mild-mannered or sweet a lot (even in school reports 😓), based on my face and actions i think

i’m not very athletic, and if anything, i hate anything sporty. i’m an infp, i speak three languages, and i generally dress in a softer manner. i also never really cared for mbti types but ive been an infp for years, and every year, i meet new people who pick up on that without any prompting.

i am generally much more emotional (not in an overly sensitive way, but in the way where my heart with ache and ill probably cry for days if someone i loved was hurt). but im also really noisy and shameless with the right people, and i love that i have people like that in my life, who i feel safe and happy with. i can be loud and free, even in public settings, i just need to be happy and safe first. i used to get bullied and ostracised as a child (for being a little chubby, and quiet, and a book lover. sometimes i still go a little stiff or feel so weird when i get complimented on my face and body. especially now that ive grown up, and receive such compliments from strangers and friends. it just causes a really bad reaction sometimes.) so im always very grateful for the love i have in my life.

i like to read, write (i write on tumblr too! just for a different fandom, although i might write for the marauders soon, i just love them too much to write without feeling too soft inside bcs im just emotional like that), and i love to daydream to music while pacing around the house at night. i’m usually really good with crafty things like crocheting, embroidery, and just general crafts. i don’t think i’m very good at other artsy things, but i am studying a course which involves art history, but i plan to go into a literature field where i can also dabble in history.

last thing about me: i talk a lot, which i’m sure you may have already noticed 😓😓 ironic considering the fact that i used to have selective mutism from an anxiety disorder as a child. but still!!

i hope i havent rambled too much— i love the marauders, and ive loved them (oh omg its almost been a decade) since i was a child. i revisit everything every now and then, but this is my first time actually interacting with anyone in the marauders space.

i hope you have a lovely lovely day ahead, and thank you for hosting this game! stay safe and warm 💗💗

hello lovely! firstly i want to thank so much you for the wish, though i feel obliged to tell you that my birthday is on the day the event ends haha. and i usually don't say this but you seem like such a sweet sweet person oh my gosh! lastly, thank you for sending in a request!

i ship you with james potter!

james knows he's a goner since the first time he talked to you. he's completely entranced, head over heels if you will. and his feelings only deepen as the time passes by because how can they not? with every interaction you're crawling out of your comfort zone the more you interact with each other. as he starts knowing about your true self, he's just finds himself falling for you harder and faster.

you're not much into sports, and he's attracted to that fact, because to him, it's a nice escape from his professional life. he thinks it's a nice and a very much needed escape from the constant hustle and bustle from that life, since he's very famous and well known around the world.

he likes how emotional you are. he thinks it's refreshing because most people nowadays aren't very vulnerable; or show emotions. he thinks it's raw, and real. as someone who's emotional himself, he likes the fact that you're emotionally available, and not afraid to express yourself. so whether you're being shameless and loud or sad and gloomy, he likes every bit your expressive self. he likes that you're not pretentious about your personality and how you're true with your own self.

he's noticed that you resist and become uncomfortable when he compliments you. he doesn't comment on it, but he's taken on himself to make sure you understand that he means every compliment that he showers you with.

james is also very entranced by the fact that you carry such a bunch of artistic hobbies. he likes how you engage in the things that make you happy. he likes to read the things you write. he also tries to spoil you with books you even lay a finger on while strolling through the book store. he also buys you a lot of crocheting yarns in different colors for you to crochet. out of pure love, you crochet him a lot of beanies. you also love to embroider designs on his t-shirts, and he wears them with pride.

and last but not the least, he loves the fact that you're so talkative. james is a naturally talkative person and he loves that you talk so much, which is refreshing to him, because he's usually used to carry conversations. it's nice to stop once and listen to someone he loves so much.

hopefully the ship didn't disappoint! have a nice day/night ahead :)! (also if you ever write about the marauders, please do tag me, i'd love to read your work!)

join my celebration!

#james potter x reader #james potter

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comfortunit · 1 year ago

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literally just found you today thru those rants and 100%. ive talked about it with friends but we keep it to ourselves bc fandombrained people are so vitriolic & reactionary but you get it. fandoms as they are now are simply a function of capitalism and i wouldnt even say most are fans of the media they say they are but of the roving dudeslash fandom who NEED to see characters forced into their static cookiecutter trope pairing/mirroring themselves and fuckin or theyll die. fandoms in general also tend to be a cesspit of racism & terrible attitudes towards sex work despite their fascination with/fetishization of both race and sex work in general and its like the smaller the fandom is the more of a toxic microcosm of let people haaaaave funnnnn it becomes (idk why i wrote this i was just super surprised to see another mbd fan who was also a sex worker, hiii same hat i am waving to you from across the street)

i went off about this in a mutual's personal server even more than i posted/ranted about here on tumblr because it really pisses me off, especially when you visit low-rating reviews of any mbd book, extra especially fugitive telemetry (like "how Dare this author whose work i love give me a novella after a full-length novel release?!" it's so fucking ungrateful! and it demonstrates such a disgusting lack of basic reading comprehension).

here's one review i saw posted the month i picked up the book and happened to be using goodreads to track my progress at the time, for example:

out of ideas?! it's one of the more tonally different stories in the series. when i finished the book for myself, i came back to this review and i just did not know how someone could ever say something like this. did we even read the same book?! is she "out of ideas" or did she give people another short-form story that was packed with concise and exacting language, tackling a multifaceted web of brand new interactions that make murderbot's personhood that much more dimensional, and they turned their nose up at it because "ugh 🙄 why can't we just have more full-length novels full of stuff that i can pretend is evidence of my fantasy OTP ship being canon"? the idea that a story is "low-effort" to "produce" simply because it's short is such a fucking insult to writers who know anything about writing, especially short-form masters like martha wells. these books are raw concentrated emotion.

to use a food comparison, because i've been getting emotional about the bear recently, it's like comparing a family/holiday feast to an 8-course meal from a star-ranked restaurant. they are both incredibly valuable, in different ways. the novellas are basically 'the perfect bite', they are incredibly well-written, they're rounded stories about rounded characters. intricate, delicate, plated to perfection, and at the end you realize that you've had enough of these small courses (chapters) that it's like. wow, you realize how fulfilled you are; every 'level' engaged is maxed out... and a feast made to feed an entire family like the full-length novel(s) (since the next book is a full-length novel, too) is hearty, it's quantity from a quality-minded author, it's nourishing, it's fulfilling, it's going to get a lot of mileage from every character included. these are different experiences prepared by the same chef. trust that she's going to treat you well. you know?

but you don't let diners into the kitchen to make changes to the food everyone else is going to eat. i might be going a little far with the metaphor but i swear to fucking god if tor.com does the fanservice shit to mbd i'm going to lose my fucking mind.

but again. i have faith in martha wells, i have hope and i know she would never do that to us.

edit: oh my god where are my manners HI FELLOW SEX WORKER WHO LOVES THE MUDERBOT DIARIES! THANK YOU! HOPE YOU ARE HAVING A WONDERFUL DAY!

#writing long responses to long asks is how i process things shut up /lh /j

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redmeet · 1 year ago

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I saw your post (s, because I know that this is unfortunately something you`ve had to deal with multiple times) about people asking if IBLBM is discontinued and what not, so I thought I would write from a different perspective.

sorry but this is going to be a bit long, with a little bit of broken English, but I hope this will be okay and that it will be somewhat coherent:))

reading a very good story like, IBLBM, its kinda like when you eat after a long time, without realizing how hungry you are, and then you just devoured everything. it is so good, and there is no good point to stop either. The flow of the story, the little incidents/moments and the major plot points are so amazing, with the writing/language itself being of the highest quality, it is so difficult to stop. people who stumble upon the fic after it is done is going to read it all within days I believe! at least that is how it is for me when I find a top tier fic.

which is why after a chapter ends, all you crave its more, however it has been soooo fucking good having these months long waits in-between chapter!!!!

i dont really read wip especially for longer fic, but I might have to reevaluate after you. I started reading top gun fanfics around Christmas I think, and "what up,..." was one of the first I read and then I immediately just clicked next over to IBLBM, and it was so good that top gun has now been mine main fandom since NYE.

having time between updates made it so that you have to step away from it and then instead of just focusing on the fic as a whole, really put the spotlight on each chapter. and instead of just consuming everything, you have to take your time with it, and that is when you really get to enjoy it.

I have send in an ask before, but im truly in awe of the transition between each chapter, the flow that is good throughout this work is a masterpiece, I actually can't believe that your are writing this as you upload, amazing.

having the the 2-3 months made it so that rather then having a good ass meal when you are hungry, which is also good ngl, its more of an experience, a 10 course FEAST, where the days leading up to it you are just so excited, cause even if you dont know the menu, you just know its about to amazing, where its just like the moment in ratatouille where the rat eats the cheese and strawberry at the same time, a literary symphony ahaha. especially since you kept on FEEDING US WITH THESE 20-30 K WORDS CHAPTERS????!!! absolute mad, also especially since I just can't with these 30k words 30 chapters fic, that just not for me.

it made me really appreciate things I would have missed if I just read it when it was finished, and that I did missed the first time I read it, it has been so good rereading the fic between chapter uploades, after some time, to really get to know the characters through your eyes as well.

I can only imagine how demotivating it is to get request to upload the next chapter as soon as possible, but if it is one thing I have come to realized after keeping up with IBLBM these last months is that you only need to listen to your own gut about uploading of the next chapter, because you really know your shit!!

when it comes to what you have written so far the wait have truly always been worth it and never been too long cause everything you have produced have been of both such quality and quantity that its been a real treat I just can't get enough of.

I really hope that you will continue writing after IBLBM is finished, cause you truly have in my eyes a real talent for this, and if I can continue to read something you have written, a couple of times a year or so, it is truly a dream come true!!! but I also hope you take a much deserved break!

with how much you have actually written, while having a full-time job??? that is not writing this fic??? it is amazing that it is only 2 months between uploads!!!!!! when its finished IBLBM is going to be longer than most books, that a lot of authors, that only write, spends a lot more time on than you did (and did not produce the quality you did).

anyways, what this rant was really about is that I really enjoy your works and fuck the people who get greedy and can't wait for the masterpiece, art take however long it take!!! you will always have people willing to read what you write no matter how long it takes, cause it is really that good!!

lots of love during this finale bit of the race:))

beloved you’ve absolutely rendered me speechless with your kindness! like genuinely this ask just made my week. I feel so grateful and privileged that you chose to read my little WIP at all, let alone enjoyed it enough to reread chapters… thank you 🫶🏻 I am beaming so much love your way!

#imagine being loved by me #I feel so undeserving 🫶🏻

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novemberhope · 7 months ago

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🌿 🧩

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

Do something else for a change and don't force it. Or try something new. It sometimes helps to write differently, like instead of using word, to write directly in... idk the tumblr text box. Or write it on pretty paper with your favorite pen. I don't know why this makes a difference but sometimes it does. Or ask a friend to work on it together, maybe they can give you prompts or write paragraphs you struggle with or give advice. It also helps a lot if there's interest. I wrote a fic once where I got lot's of positive comments on ff.net and that made my fly through the chapters because suddenly I was super motivated. Chose a friend to discuss things with in depth because talking about your favorite piece of media and characters for hours will certainly help. Or rewatch/reread for a bit. Or of this one story just won't flow, try an au, try writing for a different character, write a short story, use a prompt creator and write something like that. Make up a new oc and try again. If you speak multiple languages, try another language. You can always translate later. I think if it's a time problem it's a bit more difficult because if you have very little time and try to fit your writing in that small half and hour you have left in your day, that's going to be exhausting. If it's a lack of ideas and/or motivation, the changes might be better that any of these tips might work.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately? the typical Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Mary Sue character I guess. Back in the day when I was reading HP fanfic and there was a character like that, possibly with bright blue hair and pink eyes, being extremely skilled at everything, everyone is immediately in love with them and so on... idk it feels so foreign (at least for me) in the typical Hogwarts setting with all the british normal looking students. Otherwise... idk obviously things I'm not comfortable with or characters I dislike as the main characters... strange formating, like Y: bla bla bla X: bla bl bla *x and y go into the room* Grammar and spelling don't need to be perfect but at the very least the author should have used a spellchecker and I have to understand what I'm reading. Certain tropes or kinks I'm not into... character that are really not written like they're in the show/book and feel completely off or, you know, just "not feeling it". I start reading, the idea sounded good, but I keep reading and I'm just not really into it? Doesn't always mean the writing is not good but just that it's not for me. For the most part, I don't like crossovers. Expections are possible, but especially when I'm not a fan of all the included fandoms or if there are just too many characters I'm out. Or just... people I barely know sending me links to their fanfictions. Although everyone is welcome to my ask box with their fics and I might just read and love them when the timing is right, please don't be disappointed if I'm just not in the reading mood or that much into certain media at some points... and please don't keep sending new chapters, it's just overwhelming... I can always have the fanfiction site send me update emails if I want them or check myself if there are updates (ok that sounds harsh please do send your work if you want to, I'm honored, just... there's normal conversations and there's "too much", ya know?)

oh boy, how much did I write here? sorry for the wall of text...

#writers write #ask game #fanfiction #fiction #reading #writers block #tips #writing tips #sorry i hope this is helpful

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wingedblooms · 3 months ago

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I hope you feel better soon, @violetasteracademic. 💕 Thank you so much for the tag.

To be honest, I feel conflicted about the topic of mating bonds and how it has become so contentious (among many things in Sarah’s books) in the fandom because people have different preferences and perspectives. I do not theorize about it as much as others, like @offtorivendell and @silverlinedeyes, whose theories are definitely worth reading (here, here, here). They link to other posts on mating bonds in their posts as well.

I know Sarah did not confirm that she is going to explore the concept of mates and their agency, but she has set up that concept well for Elain’s book. Though she doesn’t confirm anything, she talked about how interesting she finds that topic in this interview and how much content it offers.

I go the philosophical route with my next question: We’re talking about fate here, but at what point is a character the agent of their own fate? What happens if someone rejects their mate? (Listen, if I were Fae and I didn’t like my mate, whatever God chose for me is not my business.)

“That’s something I find to be very interesting,” she replies. “What if the forces that be put you with the wrong person? Or what if you just decide, eh, I’m not interested. … There’s a lot to explore within the concept of mates and your agency about it.

“I’m not going to say if I am exploring it in future books or not,” she continues, “but it definitely offers a wealth of things to explore with this concept of freewill and what is true love. Is it something that’s destined? Or is it something that you make? Is it both?”

My opinion may be a little different than others in the fandom, but the mating bond is not the most important reason I root for a couple. I have to enjoy their dynamic and they have to offer a compelling story together. The mating bond, at least for the most recent couples in the Maasverse—Nessian, Quinlar, etc.—has felt a bit, well, unnecessary to me. Sarah could have left them out from these stories entirely and I would have still enjoyed them.

Elain’s story offers Sarah the chance to evolve, to add depth and interest to the lore she has established. She’s already laid the groundwork in Elain’s story specifically and has suggested that the Asteri have influenced each world where Fae mates exist, even in Erilea (Rigelus had apparently known the shapeshifting Fae for a long time 👀). Why, exactly, are the Fae in Prythian (and other worlds, but especially Prythian) the only ones with relationships that seem predestined? Who, ultimately, benefits from control over their fates?

We were told by the Asteri that they exerted control over the Fae, and the Fae in turn were able to exert control over mortals. The bond—in addition to other Fae beliefs and rituals—would’ve been a key way to control the Fae, ensuring that the Asteri would continue to have the strongest food source to sustain them. They could not benefit from mortal unions in the same way, which might help explain why mortals do not have beliefs about predestined mates—they have husbands and wives. The Fae were able to use their magic to oppress mortals and, following in the footsteps of their Asteri oppressors, also controlled mortals through beliefs and rituals (eg, the Children of the Blessed).

I know it’s a stretch to think it’s possible that the bond was once a true choice—a gift to those who desired to be bound together in this life and beyond—but it is the most compelling origin story of the bond to me (as someone who admittedly adores Sarah’s romances where they are not confirmed mates) and it would be interesting to read the impact of that truth. Can you imagine how that knowledge would rock (and benefit) Prythian?

In koa, Manon uses interesting language to describe the Fae’s mating bonds, continuing to make me wonder how those bonds even came to be:

The crone read her question in her eyes. “Our men dwell at our homes, where they are safe. This camp is an outpost while we conduct our business.” The Crochans had always given birth to more males than the Ironteeth, and had adopted the Fae habit of selecting mates—if not a true mating bond, then in spirit. She’d always thought it outlandish and strange. Unnecessary. (koa)

The Fae habit of selecting mates.

Selecting, not accepting, mates.

Contributing some of the thoughts I've had to the active conversation about the world building laws of mating bonds in SJM's universe!

Here is the very first on page introduction of the *highly* discussed term mate in Sarah J. Maas's world. I think it's quite important to consider both A. The fact that Wyrd, Urd, and The Mother, the creator of Fate and all creation, is the same entity under different names in the three different worlds and B. Prythian is arguably the most popular/read/analyzed series of SJM, but functions as the outlier/rule-breaker when it comes to mates. The chronological development is worth noting:

Our first ever mates in the multiverse are Emrys and Malaki. They are a same sex couple! Mated and husbands. Right off the bat, mates are described as an unbreakable bond, deeper than marriage, that lasted beyond death. Erilea and the world in Throne of Glass, in addition to their gods, is governed by and founded by Wyrd, which is not a word made up by SJM, but the Anglo-Saxon concept of fate:

In Crescent City, we discover a few things. One, that the Fae definition for mates is exactly the same as it is in Throne of Glass. A bond deeper than marriage. However, we also know that the shifters are in fact also the Fae originating from Erilea, and that their mates are their true lovers pre-destined by Urd. Then there are the breeding mates that the Asteri force in the archangels- akin to forcing animals to breed in a zoo.

And of course, the fact that Urd is in fact Wyrd. Who is, in fact, The Mother.

Urd, Wyrd, and the Mother. Fate. Destiny. Not a goddess, but a force that governed worlds. A cauldron of life, brimming with the language of creation.

It is not the Mother's intention to breed. It is the Mother's intention to guide ones fate and destiny. To match true, soul bonded lovers in a connection that lives beyond death. Procreation does not play a role, and there is no particular drive for such things in Throne of Glass or Crescent City. M/M mates set the stage. Crescent City deals with fertility, sterilization, and denounces any living soul being valued or paired for the goal of breeding.

Starfall. Will-o-the-wisps. Souls that stay connected as they journey from one life, one world, to the next.

And then we get to Prythian, where the pattern breaks. And suddenly, mating bonds are not soul bonded pairs. They are not ones true lover. They are, in fact, more in line with what the Asteri have created: breeding animals in a zoo. People who do not love each other are forced to be together. Poor pairs that are not a match on a soul level. A threat of violence if a woman rejects their mate. And even that term, rejection, is one only brought up in Prythian. It brings my attention to another interesting passage in HoFaS:

Consent. Yes, this is talking about consent for the tithe and the giving of power. However, I think it's incredibly noteworthy that the Asteri have a goal of getting around the tricky issue of consent to enact their goals. They have found a way around that on Midgard.

They also are able to force "mates" amongst the archangels without their consent.

How interesting that in Prythian, the one world where the Cauldron lives, the language of creation, the object of the Mother, Urd, Wyrd, and fate has been tampered with by the Asteri, the zoo animal breeding masters, consent is also required for a mating bond.

This does not exist on the other worlds. I believe by the time the Asteri reached Midgard, they figured out a way to circumvent consent not only for taking power, but also, the creation of the Archangels who are brainwashed from a young age to serve the Asteri and give up their consent.

I know a lot of people don't like to have this conversation, because it's a threat to the existing mates on Prythian. Obviously I'm an Elriel, so I don't think that's true. As I believe myself and many others have mentioned before, Elain's mating bond also breaks pattern. She is immediately snapped with her mate the second they lock eyes. This is akin to Rhysand's mother and father, who also had an immediate snap of their mating bond upon first locking eyes.

Rhysand's parents bred the most powerful High Lord in all of Prythian's history. So powerful, that other High Lord's are essentially humans to him.

Nessian and Feysand took time. The female did not experience the bond before she wanted to. They fell in love before accepting the bond. Their souls bonded before their acceptance, and it was a slow, consensual journey into love. This is akin to the other true mates. Ones true lover. A soul matched pair.

These are the genuine written words to differentiate the different kinds of mating bonds. There are different kinds of bonds.

Both the Asteri and the Mother's will live on in the Cauldron. Yes, the mating bonds are affected. But the Mother is not gone from Prythian. She was not erased from the Cauldron. She is governess of worlds. Creatures like Maeve and the Asteri actively interfere with bonds to interfere with the course of fate. These are the stories on the table.

It is wonderful and fascinating and endlessly exciting!

*ps I am still largely on my theory, inbox ask, and SJM scrolling break. I've been mostly living in the writing, poetry, and Agatha All Along tags. But I became violently ill in the middle of the day, then saw there were some great discussions about the mating bonds and Cauldron corrupted theories (I read @wingedblooms and @psychologynerd !) and I've been sitting on my little cluster of thoughts for this forever, so I am in bed doing this 🤣 enjoy! Apologies if I've repeated anything that is already largely out there!

Stay kind out there fam. Please promote positivity in the reblog tags should you feel moved to share!

#mating bonds and agency #or as manon once said…selecting mates #elain archeron

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brighteststar707 · 1 year ago

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Yeah, it's been a long time! I've been doing alright, though! I'm kinda mostly waiting for my last school year to be over and find a job so I can earn money and slowly fix my life the way I want.^^"

The fandom is Blue Period! It's actually my next big focus after Mystic Messenger actually, I even found a character I consider my f/o from there! I got a special box with a sketchbook that is full of drawings and illustrations with really good quality! Since the fandom is not even active, there is stuff in this book that you won't find anywhere else, makes me feel good SMSMSM and one of the best parts is that it's in Japanese! So whenever I have progressed way more, I'll come back and read all the new juicy info and new scenarios I've never seen before, exciting!!!!

I also got some bookmarks and two keychains from there! Although I wasn't kinda happy with the shipping process, I'm still very happy I got them!!

Blue Period has also helped me a lot with my path with art, it has given me plenty of motivation and the main character has opened my eyes to so much about art, too! I felt so seen when he had the same thoughts and experiences as me, even if he does oil painting^^"

You can watch the anime or read the manga if it interests you! If you start with the anime, please check the manga out since there is so much more! If you do anything with art, it might give you motivation just like it did to me.

Learning the language can be fun but it is challenging, haha. They are many words that have different pronunciations and stuff I haven't seen in a language before. I found that listening to people speak makes me remember the words easier haha

I hope you are able to rest well, you're doing great, I reassure you! I'm also so happy I got to speak with you again, it really has been a lot of time, holyyyy!

I'm thinking of starting to use Tumblr when I get more Into art again but I'm still here, I still check some stuff every day when I can! <333

I understand that sentiment. So much changes once you're done with school. I'm rooting for this year to be an easy one for you!

Ooh, I've never heard of Blue Period before, but I looked up the premise and it sounds interesting! I will keep it in mind when I'm in the market for a new anime/manga!

It's so wonderful to be able to pull motivation from the media you enjoy, especially when it's a hobby like art or writing where it sometimes feels like you can hit a wall. Funnily enough, even though it has nothing to do with writing, Mysme is what pushed me to write more often and put more effort into it. It's thanks to these guys that I've been able to develop my skills as far as I have.

That merch sounds so nice! That sketchbook especially sounds really detailed and extra bonus that it's something you won't find elsewhere. It'll be fun to see what else it holds once you progress further in Japanese! Shame about the shipping issues with other merch pieces, but at least they made it to you!

I've had similar experiences learning languages. What I love is that each language says so much about the country's culture. I'm currently attempting to learn Italian, and while it has its difficult and awkward moments (I've messed up in front of locals more times than I can count), I love learning about the expressions and their meanings.

Thank you for your support, it means a lot! I'm taking time to catch my breath and to do the things I enjoy before life gets busy again.

#happy to hear that you're still around!#No pressure to come back in a bigger capacity though! Creating can be tiring #faye talks #stormflypirateskin

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nevermindirah · 3 years ago

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Do you have any thoughts on the use of AAVE for Nile (or lack thereof) in TOG fanfiction? I've been reading some Book of Nile fic and some writers seem to write her as a Millennial™ (using words like "fave" and "woke") but never acknowledge her Blackness in her patterns of speech. I know we don't see her use as much AAVE in the films, but I would argue she's in situations where code-switching would be valued (first in a "professional" environment in the army, then around a group of non-Black strangers).

Hi anon! I have many thoughts on this and I'm honored you asked me! But I should start by saying I'm white and any thoughts Black fans and especially Black American fans have on this that they want to share would be beyond lovely. (I'm not gonna tag anybody bc that feels rude but please add onto this post if any of y'all see this and want to!)

The main reason I personally avoid AAVE for Nile in my own fics is because I'm not Black. But Nile-centric fics by Black writers tend to avoid using much of it too, at least from what I've noticed/understood, and my guess is it's largely for the reason you mention, that she's in situations that encourage code-switching.

In movie canon Nile is highly competent at tailoring her language to each situation she finds herself in. This fantastic linguistics analysis meta shows how skillfully Nile chooses her vocabulary and grammar to meet her goals with different conversation partners in different contexts. In comics canon Nile had a bunch of different civilian jobs before joining the Marines, so she would've had experience code-switching in the ways that made sense for all those different contexts as well as the Marines and her family and high school and wherever else she spent her time before we met her. And now she's spending her time with a handful of immortals none of whom are native English speakers and a fellow Black American but one with a Queen's English UK accent whose professional experience is in the CIA where high-status code-switching is often an absolute must for success or even survival.

Fics featuring Nile are charged with extrapolating from that to how it might show up in her use of language that she's coping with a traumatic separation from her family and her career and pretty much everything she's ever known and now she needs to be able to make herself understood to people who seem to care about her and each other but are super duper in crisis, three (soon to be four) of whom predate Modern English entirely and the only one who's anywhere near her contemporary she's not supposed to talk to for a century. All of these people are telling her that pretty much any contact with any mortals poses an existential threat to her and the rest of the group. How the FUCK is she supposed to cope with that, like, generally? And would it be a more effective way for her to cope if she talked to Andy Joe and Nicky using the speech patterns that she used to use with her mom and brother, to at least retain that part of her identity even if it means having to do a lot of explaining, or would it meet her needs better to prioritize Andy Joe and Nicky understanding what she means with her words over using the particular words and grammar forms she used with her family?

I've seen several fics, both Nile-centric / BoN and otherwise, explore this a little bit in how/whether Nile uses Millennial™ speak. It's often a theme in Nile texting Booker despite the exile because of the popular headcanon that he as The Tech Guy is the only other immortal who understands memes. But Nile's much-younger-than-Booker mom probably uses Boomer and/or Gen X memes and Andy has been adapting to new communication styles for forever as evidenced by her canon high level of fluency with standard-American-accented English.

Which brings us back to people avoiding AAVE because they're not Black and they don't want to make mistakes (or they're not Black and they don't want to get yelled at for making mistakes, though I think many people overestimate how much they'll get yelled at while underestimating how much these mistakes can hurt). I can imagine some Black fans hold back from using much AAVE in fic because they don't want to share in-group stuff with white people who are likely to then adopt and ruin it, as white people so often do with Black cultural stuff. Some links about this including a great Khadija Mbowe video. I'm saying this gently, anon, because you might not know: woke, an example you cited as Millennial™ speak, is AAVE, and that's gotten erased by so many white people appropriating it and using it incorrectly online.

And also there's the part where fandom is a hobby and you never know when you're reading a fic that's the very first thing someone's ever written outside of a school assignment. This cultural considerations of language shit takes a level of effort and skill that not everybody puts into every fic, or even could if they wanted to because they haven't had time to build their skills yet. It's definitely easier for non-Black fans to project our millennial feels onto Nile than to do the layers of research and self-reflection it requires to depict what Blackness might mean to Nile, and it's not surprising that often people sharing their hobby creations on the internet have gone the easier route. There's not even necessarily shame in doing what's easier. It's just frustrating and often hurtful when structural white supremacy means that 3-dimensional Black characters are rare in media and thoughtful explorations of them in fandom are seen by the majority of fans as not-easy to make and therefore Nile Freeman, the main character in The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood, has the least fic and meta and art made about her of our 5 main immortals.

I've been active in different fandoms off and on for twenty years and I barely managed to write 5,000 words about Sam Wilson across multiple different fics in the 7 years since I fell in love with him. There's an alchemy to which characters we connect with, and on top of that which characters we connect with in a way that causes us to create stuff about them. Something about Nile Freeman finally tipped me over the edge from a voracious reader to a voracious writer. It's not for me to judge which characters speak to other individuals to the level of creating content about them, but I do think it's important for us to notice, and then work to fight, the pattern where across this fandom as a whole Nile gets way less content, and way less depth in so much of the content that's in theory about her, than any of these other characters.

Anyway, back to language. My two long fics feature Nile with several Black friends — Copley and OCs and cameos from other media — but all of those characters except Alec Hardison from Leverage aren't American. It's very possible I'm guilty of stereotyping Black British speech patterns in I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore. I watched hours and hours of Black haircare YouTube videos in the research for that fic and I modeled my OCs' speech patterns on what I heard from some of those YouTubers as well as what I've heard people like John Boyega and Idris Elba saying in interviews, but the thing about doing your best is you still might fuck up.

I'm slowly making progress on my WIP where Nile and Sam Wilson are cousins, and what ways of talking with a family member might be authentic for Nile is a major question I need to figure out. For that, I'm largely modeling my writing choices on how I hear my Black friends and colleagues talking to each other. I haven't overheard colleagues talking in an office in a long-ass time, but back when that was a thing, I remember seeing a ton of nuance in the different ways many of my Black colleagues would talk to each other. Different people have different personalities! And backgrounds! And priorities! A few jobs ago my department was about 1/3 Black and we worked closely with Obama administration staff many of whom were Black and there was SO MUCH VARIETY in how Black people talked to each other, about work and workplace-appropriate personal stuff, where I and other white coworkers could hear. There are a few work friends in particular who I have in my head when I'm trying to imagine how Sam and Nile might talk to each other. From the outside looking in, God DAMN is shit complicated, intellectually and interpersonally and spiritually, for Black people who are devoting their professional lives to public service in the United States.

One more aspect of this that I have big thoughts on but I need to take extra care in talking about is the idea of acknowledging Nile's Blackness in her patterns of speech. There's no one right way to be Black, and Nile's a fictional character created by a white dude but there are plenty of real-life Black Americans who don't use much or even any AAVE, for reasons that are complicated because of white supremacy. (Highly highly recommend this video by Shanspeare on the harms of the Oreo stereotype.)

Something that's not the same but has enough similarity that I think it's worth talking about is my personal experience with authenticity and American Jewish speech patterns. My Jewish family members don't talk like they're in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and I've known lots of people who do talk that way (or the millennial version of it), some of whom have questioned my Jewishness because I don't talk that way. That hurts me. Sometimes when another Jew tells me some shit like "I've never heard a Jew say y'all'd've," I can respond with "well now you have asshole, bless your Yankee-ass heart," because the myth of Dixie is a racist lie but I will totally call white Northerners Yankees when they're being shitty to me for being Southern, and this particular Jew fucking revels in using "bless your heart" with maximum polite aggression, especially with said Yankees. But sometimes I don't have it in me to say anything and it just quietly hurts having an important part of me disbelieved by someone who shares that important part of me. The sting isn't quite the same when non-Jews disbelieve or discount my Jewishness, but that hurts too.

Who counts as authentically Jewish is a messy in-group conversation and it doesn't really make sense to explain it all here. Who counts as authentically Jewish is a matter of legal status for immigration, citizenship, and civil rights in Israel, and it's my number 2 reason after horrific treatment of Palestinians that I'm antizionist. But outside that extremely high-stakes legal situation, it can just feel really shitty to not be recognized as One Of Us, especially by your own people.

It can also feel really shitty to be The Only One of Your Kind in a group, even if that group is an immortal chosen family who all loves each other dearly. Sometimes especially in a situation like that where you know those people love you but there are certain things they don't get about you and will never quite be able to. I'm definitely projecting at least a little bit of my "lonely Jew who will be alone again for yet another Jewish holiday" stuff onto Nile when at the end of I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore she's thinking about being the only Black immortal and moving away from the community she'd built with a mostly-Black group of mortals in that fic. Maybe that tracks, or maybe that's fucked up of me.

Basically, this got very long but it's complicated, writing about experiences that aren't your own takes skill which in turn takes time and practice to build, writing about experiences not your own that our society maligns can cause a lot of harm if done badly, it can also cause a lot of harm when a large enough portion of a fandom just decides to nope out of something that's difficult and risky because then there's just not much content about a character who deserves just a shit ton of loving and nuanced content, people are individuals and two people who come from the exact same cultural context might show that influence in all kinds of different ways, identity is complicated, language is complicated, writing is hard, and empathy and humility and doing our best aren't a guarantee of avoiding harm but they do go a long way in helping people create thoughtful content about a character as awesome and powerful and kind and messy and scared and curious and WORTHY as Nile Freeman.

#nile freeman #linguistics #TOG POC Love Fest #nileweek2021 #tog meta #tog #long post #mine #antiblackness #jewish things #hi i'm an antizionist jew no i don't really want to talk about it

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the-insomniac-emporium · 4 years ago

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Everybody Talks Too Much (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Mute!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence Summary: Whenever Cassandra gets angry, no one wants to deal with her. Well, no one but you, that is. Thankfully, the middle child appreciates your company... not that she'd ever admit it. Notes: Another self-indulgent fic with a selectively mute reader. This one's a lil different. Sections in italic are mostly indications that the reader is miming actions in order to communicate, though there are a few internal thoughts that are marked as such. Unlike the past two I've done, this takes place pre-relationship, so there's some mutual pining of sorts. I think that's the word.

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Among the many servants of Castle Dimitrescu, there were a number of secret rules to be followed. Guidelines that were never written down, only spoken in hushed whispers, for specific (and dangerous) circumstances. Most could be divided into one of two categories: 1, how to reduce the chances of a Lady of the house killing someone. 2, how to make sure that if they kill someone, it will not be you. Of these rules, there was one that you knew best of all, despite never having been told it. Why? Because you have observed it time and time again. After all, the rule revolved around you. To put it plainly… If Cassandra Dimitrescu was in an awful mood, but had yet to draw blood, send in the mute.

Even now, as you rushed down a corridor, you did not know why this rule was in place. You simply knew that you had been summoned countless times by frantic maidens, to go serve their volatile mistress. Admittedly you did understand their eagerness to thrust the task upon someone else. Cassandra was often considered the deadliest of the Dimitrescu daughters, for she was the quickest to anger, the one with the deepest bloodlust, and took the longest to calm down. Personally, you disagreed, believing that it wasn’t terribly hard to know what she did and did not like. All it took was some observation. It was Daniela who scared you, seeing as she was unpredictable. She didn’t even need to be in a bad mood to want to kill you.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean that you saw no danger in working with Cassandra. In fact, you saw a fair bit, such as now: Right as you round the corner, a shiny object hurls past your head, embedding itself into the wall. Had you been walking ever so slightly faster… Well, you preferred not to dwell on such things, especially not when the one who threw the thing was still nearby. Based on the howling laughter and swarm of insects that moves around you, the intended target was Lady Daniela. Across the room is the markswoman herself; Cassandra stood tall, huffing in anger, staring at the spot her sister had just vacated from.

“Damn it!” She yelled, stomping her foot as if the resulting shockwave might do what her weapon had not. Oddly amused, you’re quick to remove the sickle from the wall, careful as to not damage it. It’s a tad dirty, but nothing you can’t fix with your handy pocket cloth. Cleaning as you walk, you slowly move towards your employer, not even bothering to spare her a glance. After all, you had your own rules for dealing with her.

(1: Avoid eye contact for at least one minute after an outburst.)

By the time you make it to Cassandra, the minute has come and gone, allowing you to ever-so politely look her in the eyes when you return her blade. She scoffs, then practically rips the sickle from your hands. This was your job, however, so you made no complaints. Not that you could, at least not verbally. Instead, you gave a short bow of acknowledgement. Afterwards you stood still, awaiting either instructions or a dismissal. Neither came.

“I can’t believe that little shit tried to take my favorite dagger and thought she could get away with it! Agh, the nerve of her! Can you believe this?” Cassandra snapped, turning to you as if you might agree with her. Nod, simple yet effective. “At least you know how to handle a blade. Damn Daniela is lucky she didn’t get any scratches on mine.” Then she pulls the knife in question from its place on her belt, letting it gleam in the light. A soft exhale, head tipping to the side, wow is it pretty. So is the one holding it. Your mind wanders but your gaze does not. Always polite, always ready to serve.

(2: Do not get distracted; she is no patient lover, rather a demanding boss.)

“Cassandra! What was all that noise a minute ago?” Someone called, interrupting your ‘conversation’. The speaker soon appears, being none other than Lady Bela, the most reasonable of the castle residents. Though that meant little, considering the nature of her family. As if to prove your point, Cassandra merely rolls her eyes in reply, refusing to divulge the truth. And so Bela turned her gaze to you, perking a brow. “Feeling up to talking today?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Of course, your hands are already moving, not even waiting for her to finish speaking. This is a game you know intimately.

A hand goes to your belt, moving to pull a nonexistent blade from its sheath. Raising it, moving it forward then back several times, launching it towards the wall- towards the hole left behind. Then shifting, waving your hand in front of your face while exhaling a sharp breath. Flinching. An exaggerated gulp, pretending to check if your nose is still attached, sighing in relief. Lastly, an inclination of your head towards the culprit. Cassandra.

“I was aiming for Daniela. Not that it matters, nobody got hurt,” she stated, confident. Both hands clasped together, then tapping the palms together, mimicking a heartbeat at a reasonable pace. Suddenly a stomp. The beating stops, and you hold your hands next to your ear, as if listening for signs of life. Pause. Three seconds. Worried expression, eyes wide. Finally, fast as a gunshot, the heart beats again, wildly. At this, Bela shoots her sister a look of doubt, as well as judgement. Hoping to change the subject, Cassandra looks to you. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Rubbing your chin, thinking. Squinting for effect. Ah, got it! Both hands go to your sides, lifting the imaginary hem of a dress you aren’t wearing. Waltzing forward, yet in place, with the poise expected of a professional maid. Then the focus shifts to your face. Fear. A silent scream, a hand at your forehead, feeling like you… might… faint. Falling backwards, making a step at the very last second to prevent a real collapse. End scene.

“Someone was scared?” Bela asked, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of herself. When you nod, she does as well, considering the implications. “Why would they send you?”

“I hardly care why, I just want to know who so I can kick their ass,” Cassandra interjects, taking a step closer to you. All you do in response is shrug. Unsurprisingly this is not enough to please her, and before you know it she’s wrapped a hand around your throat. “Give. Me. A. Name. Now.” A perked brow. Thoughts practically telegraphed. ‘What do you expect?’ Opening your mouth, slightly, then wide, back to almost closed. No sound comes out. Obviously. It’s not like you wanted to break your own rule, but in this case you had no choice.

(3: Give her whatever she wants, consequences be damned.)

Luckily for you, Bela acts as a foil to Cassandra, there to smooth the seas. Moving behind you, she reaches into your back pocket and retrieves the notepad you keep there. Then she’s handing it to you while making eye contact with her sister. Cassandra promptly releases you, though she’s clearly not pleased, going so far as to push you away in one last act of anger. Internally you roll your eyes. On the outside, however, you quickly write down everything you know… which isn’t much.

“I don’t remember who it was. A lot of people have asked. This happens a lot.” Then you hand the paper to Bela, who soon looks back up at you in confusion. Too antsy to wait for her own turn, Cassandra yoinks the notepad from her sister’s hands, reading it over several times before reacting.

“What the fuck? Why would they send you to me because somebody pissed their pants in fear? I’m going to kill someone. Ugh, I don’t- this doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” Cassandra ranted, pacing back and forth, looking like she wanted to destroy something immediately. To your surprise, Bela doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned. If anything, she looks amused, and smiles when the two of you make eye contact. Something tells you that she knows something that you don’t. Before you can react, she quietly retrieves your notepad and returns it to you. Then she pauses, thinking, eying you with curiosity.

“Why don’t you go for now? See if anyone thanks you for stepping in, hmm?” She suggested, tone implying that this was absolutely about something else entirely. Still, you don’t care to disobey, and so you bid the two of them farewell with a deep bow. As you leave, you can almost make out part of what they say next. But you’re certain that you must have heard incorrectly. “Showing your favoritism a little too much, sister? If even the servants can see it-” the rest of the sentence is cut off by angry muttering from Cassandra. After that you’re too far away to hear anymore. What a strange day...

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“Hey, you know where Lady Cassandra’s room is, right?” Ygritte asked, casually, definitely not having just been told by someone else that you were the solution to her problem. Pretending that you were unaware of this, you give her a smile and a nod. Later, behind her back, you will mentally add her to your list of people to watch out for. Maybe even decide to refuse to share your biscuits with her. In the meantime, you pretend that you don’t mind whatever task she’s about to dump on you. “Can you bring these books to her? I really have to get back to the kitchen soon, and that’s in the opposite direction…”

Technically true. Something told you that the real problem was that Cassandra had been extra loud the past few days. Regardless, you accept the books from her, leaving before she even finishes thanking you. Why do people do this? I don’t get it, you think. It’s like they think I’m immune to her rage. If that were true, I’d gladly throw myself between her and others. But no, that’s not the case. Hmmph, if only they saw my scars. Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you keep walking, subconsciously rubbing the spot on your arm where Cassandra had cut you. Well, the worst spot. Being pain tolerant had made her take interest in you, during your first few weeks, but it’s what allowed you to learn her rules. Your rules, really.

Knock. Knock. A pause… three more, much softer. The door swings open, revealing your Lady, whose eyes widen at the sight of you. Tipping your hat (which you are not wearing), you greet her, forcing another smile. Then you present the books, free hand gesturing with a spiral motion towards them. She doesn’t respond. No, wait, she glances at the door hinges, considering closing the door in your face. Now both of you are staring at each other, daring the other to move.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally said. There’s a gruffness to her voice that you hadn’t expected. It’s unlike her usual tone, less angry, more tired. Were those bags under her eyes?... No, just smudged makeup. “Don’t just stand there- tell me why you’re here.” Again, you gesture to the books, extending your hands further towards her. This time she takes a half-step backwards to avoid you. Peculiar. “Someone else was supposed to bring them, dipshit. Fucking hell, why can’t anyone around here do their damn jobs?” At last, she takes the books from you, carrying them deeper into your room. Though she does not close the door, you assume that your job is done. Or maybe you simply do not wish to deal with a Cassandra who’s frustrated by your specific presence. Either way, it breaks one of your rules, though you do not remember until it is too late.

(4: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family.)

“Where the hell are you going?” The sound of buzzing flies, a blur of motion around you, then the form of Cassandra solidifying in front of you. One of her hands is raised, pressing against the center of your chest. She pushes you, hard, making you stumble backwards into her room. Next thing you know you’ve crashed onto her floor. A tad stunned, you bring a hand up to hold your head, blinking rapidly for a few seconds. There’s the sound of a door closing, and then someone’s trying to help you stand. “I didn’t say you could leave yet. Now c’mon, I’ve got stuff for you to do.” Then she’s guiding you to her bed, making you sit down on the end. Panicked thoughts race through your mind one after another. What exactly was she intending? Thankfully you don’t have to wait long to find out. “Read through these, and-” a pause, like she hadn’t known what she was going to say until she was already speaking- “take notes. Make a summary of the bookmarked sections, or whatever.” Handing you a couple books (neither of which being ones you had just brought to her), she sits on the other side of the bed, refusing to look at you. She does, however, say one last thing, voice barely above a whisper. “Just stay for a while, okay?”

Inside your head, you make a mental note to amend your list of rules.

(4.b: Do not leave until dismissed by a member of the family. If Cassandra asks you to stay, you stay, no matter what. It’s worth it.)

#cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #stayed up to write this #totes worth it

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aizenat · 1 year ago

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You know, as a writer, I feel like takes like these only work if you’re talking about an original work. Fanfic writers take the characters and plots and settings of established stories and then try to manipulate and twist them to fit whatever narrative or tropes you want for these characters. Even if it clashes or doesn’t fit with the original characterization. Or, hell, even if it results in a version of the original character that is so fundamentally different that it might as well be a new character.

At that point, you’re not engaging with the actual lore, themes, and perspectives of the characters. So what is the point? This is why these debates and conversations happen in literally EVERY fandom. Because you have one faction who actually want to use fanfiction to explore the themes of the story while another (and often louder and bigger) faction want to focus on creating “cracked” versions of the story. And from the latter group will come ideas and views that will clash with the actual narrative, that end up becoming the popular narrative that people cling to. Sometimes even to the point where if the story doesn’t follow their cracked logic and give them the fan service they want, they get angry and hostile towards the show.

I mean, with iwtv, look at how much hate the show already gets for deviating from the books and not wubbifying Lestat already. I’ve been around the block in fandom spaces for more than half my life at this point (been there, did that, bought the t shirt and then got way too fat for it), and I’ve literally seen that. Some takes and expectations that have me thinking “did we read the same book/watch the same movie/show?”

And if people just kept it to themselves, a little play fantasy they know will never happen, then sure. Yes to everything in your OP. But again that’s not what’s happening.

I don’t agree with a lot of the takes the person you’re referencing says (their take on the “if you want werewolves go read twilight” was completely stupid, and the attempt to backtrack when called out with “well this is my opinion” is a huge red flag to me but that’s because of narcissistic abuse I’ve been through so I’m not appreciative of dismissive language like that), but I do think there is validity on their criticism of the feminization of Louis by the fandom. I think the fandom really struggles to allow for Louis’ complexities in a way similar to both Lestat and Armand (as I saw someone point out), which tends to make people harp on and really hyper focus on one aspect while ignoring others.

Especially considering the person you’re referencing is Black, I can attest that this is a common experience for Black people and is probably also partly why that person tries to correct it when they feel it’s happening. I don’t think it’s fair to completely dismiss their concerns.

Shutting down these conversations just because they get in the way of your laissez faire approach to fandom is so intellectually dishonest and disrespectful to Black fans (and there are a lot of us in the iwtv fandom now) who deserve to be able to participate in fandom spaces too. That person doesn’t speak for all Black people, so there’s nothing wrong with disagreeing with their views but you need to at least interact with what they’re saying because they are bringing their perspective to the table.

I personally think that fanfiction has become a practice in anti intellectualism in that people don’t interact with the actual text but rather their fantasies. The text could be explicit in what it’s representing but then the fandom decides they don’t like it so they disregard it. And again, and I say this as a writer myself, you can’t just disregard the original text. Death of the author is not something I subscribe to because what an author intended does matter. And I don’t like fandom’s insistence that we should disregard whatever the text is ACTUALLY trying to say to prioritize fannon. And despite not agreeing with the person you’re talking about on a lot of how they respond to others and some of their takes, I will say that they at least seem intent on working with the actual text and exploring and making meta based on that and not just coming with cracked theories to hold the show and fandom to.

I don’t get the point of policing other fic work, Louis can be enjoyed in as many variations and iterations as fans of the show can dream up. In certain regard to basic respect to his character but THIS IS FICTION. LOUIS is beautiful and contrary, hypocritical, passive, overbearing. He is so many things at once.The feminization debate, I actually really liked because I love analysis and exploring differing opinions. The background history I learned, the different perspectives that brought up ideas and and context I’ve never thought about. There are so many ways to enjoy the content someone else has taken the time to make. Like if it’s a trope its a trope, if you don’t dig it move on. There are a lot of layers when it comes to Louis’s experience as a black man. There are so many different characterizations of Louis I’ve fallin’ in love with, due to talented writers, artist and creatives that participate in this fandom. Including the other characters, that we all so enjoy. I really enjoy this fandom and seeing a black character at the forefront that shows the realities of being black to the nuances of a complicated character that the fans should have space to expand on.

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yuyuntianyu · 4 years ago

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[2HA analysis blog] To love you is torment but leave you I cannot

I wanted to write this (hopefully not-too-long) blog to give 2HA fandom a different perspective of the events in the past timeline. I noticed that there are many little things that could not be carried over to the English language. These little things can give more explanations to our characters’ actions so I hope sharing this would help the novel make more sense. This blog focuses on Taxian-jun and Chu Fei.

Warning: Spoilers ! ! ! Taxian-jun and Chu Fei are their own trigger warnings ! ! !

Despite the novel having 350 chapters, we really know little about what happened between Taxian-jun and Chu Fei besides the abuse and mistreatment and that little is relayed to us by the Most Unreliable Narrator of the Cultivation World - Mo Ran Mo Weiyu. If we only take Mo Ran for his words then a lot of his and Chu Wanning’s decisions told later on would seem irrational and almost silly. So let’s dive deep in the past so we can understand how the great cultivator Beidou Xian-zun could raise such a dumb husky since the events in the past would explain the more irrational decisions made by both main characters.

Given Mo Ran’s narrator is about as reliable as his character in the first 120 chapters, we have to look at other more subtle clues and some of them are due to cultural and linguistic differences.

1. I used to like you a lot

At his coronation day, Taxian-jun stated that he once greatly looked up to Chu Wanning and that he used to love and respect him dearly. Maybe I am reading into this too much but this is my theory: The flower could erase the memory itself but cannot erase the feelings associated with the memory. He had his memories of the good deeds Chu Wanning did for him erased but still remembered that he used to love and respect him. It doesn’t make sense unless it is indeed that the flower could not erase its host’s feelings. So throughout the novel, Mo Ran’s complicated emotions are complicated possibly because he could not remember how he came to have these feelings. Similarly, Hua Binan could mess with the undead Taxian-jun’s memory to a great extent but could not erase his obsession with Chu Wanning.

2. I gave you a new title

Chu Fei. 楚妃. In the Imperial Chinese harem hierarchy, “Fei” means consort and not concubine (嬪 “Pín"). Consorts were highly respected positions in the palace weidling much political power and were only seconds to the Empress Consort. Another major difference is a consort would be married to the emperor while a concubine would not. So if Taxian-jun had truly wanted to only humiliate Chu Wanning and keep him for the carnal pleasures (I am intentionally ignoring his breeding kink completely), he would keep him as a concubine but he gave Chu Wanning the Consort title and hid him from the world. At this point, Taxian-jun had almost lost Chu Wanning once and had spent a lot of effort to bring him back from the verge of death after hearing Chu Wanning’s apology so his anger might have softened a bit. Also, given that Chu Wanning is a man, having a legitimate offspring ( (I am still intentionally ignoring Mo Ran's breeding kink completely) is not an issue so although this is not clearly stated, I believe Taxian-jun wanted to force a relationship and somewhat proper marriage on Chu Wanning. Another hint of this is in an Extra chapter where Taxian-jun tried to get Chu Wanning a birthday gift. He recalled that in his past timeline, he had wanted Chu Wanning to give him something on his birthday as well and that he had wanted Chu Wanning’s heart.

3. Shizun likes to write letters and poems

On Book 3 Chapter 247, Chu Wanning sat down and wrote a few unsent letters to the people he used to know. He also wrote a few lines of poetry. In the first few lines taken from different literature works, he expressed his sense of helplessness and his wish to remain untainted despite the circumstances. The more important two lines are from a poem written by a real poet named Fàn Chéngdà ( 范成大) who lived in the 12th century Southern-Song dynasty. The two lines read:

“May I be like the stars, may you* be as the moon. Night after night, may we shine together side by side.” **

*In the original work, the character used instead of you is “jun” 君 (as in 踏仙君 Taxian-jun). 君 could mean king, emperor, lord, or gentleman ** This is my rough translation - I haven’t found an English version of this poem

These two lines are commonly used in romantic novels as a way to express one’s unchanging love and loyalty to another person despite the circumstances. He compared himself as the stars and wanted to remain by Taxian-jun whom he viewed as the moon. Chu Wanning wrote this to express his willingness to stay but he would never voice this out loud. In the next timeline, he did the same thing by quietly loving and caring for Mo Ran 1.0 despite the mistreatment and was content with never expressing his feelings vocally. Mo Ran was rather uneducated and thus could not fully comprehend these two lines and misunderstood that Chu Wanning was missing Xue Meng.

4. You are all I have left

In chapter 252, after Chu Wanning returned to The Red Lotus Pavilion, he found Taxian-jun already waiting for him. Taxian-jun told Chu Wanning about a dream he had and said:

“I am afraid I don’t resent you… I want to resent you… Otherwise, I…” “In the end, it’s just you and I”.

This is not the first time he expressed that Chu Wanning was all he had left or they only had each other. I believe that at this point, Taxian-jun might have somewhat believed Chu Wanning and recognized that his memories were missing. His words and behaviors seemed a lot more gentle and he mentioned they did have periods of time where their marriage was easier. I believe it was after this point. He told us about the numerous times he attempted to spoil his consort or expressed his affection through gifts, a trip outside the palace, goods, jewels, and even teaching Chu Wanning how to cook or personally taking care of Chu Wanning when he was sick. At one point, Taxian-jun expressed his wish for a more peaceful marriage with Chu Wanning through his breeding kink by saying that if they had children, perhaps they would be more civil towards each other.

Edit: I really wanted to go about this blog without having to refer to their particular taste in bed

5. Are you still mad?

This is a smaller detail but in the original text and the Vietnamese official translation, the way they talked to each other had a bit more of the “husband-wife” dynamic. Especially Chu Wanning ( l┐(︶▽︶)┌ ), the comment section said he sounded like when your wife is mad that you didn’t take out the trash but still says: “I’m not mad” and Taxian-jun, the husband, would come around and ask “Are you still mad at me?” after every fight.

6. I did not think you would really leave me.

On Chapter 99, Mo Ran recalled the fight between him and Chu Wanning after an assassination attempt. In order to convince Mo Ran to not go to Taxue Palace, Chu Wanning said:

“If you destroy Taxue palace, if you kill Xue Meng, I will die before you”.

Now the line “I will die before you” in my language is less of a suicidal ideation but more of a threat. It's used when a person already knows that they are important to the other person and is using their own death as a threat to make the other person do something. This line is thrown around a lot during heated arguments between people close to each other but they almost never mean it. (Even my mom said it numerous times before T_T . I personally think it’s manipulative). Therefore, it is understandable Taxian-jun did not take this line seriously and replied almost mockingly. After all, they had been married for almost a decade at that point, Taxian-jun probably felt somewhat comfortable that Chu Wanning would not do anything reckless. He could not foresee that Chu Wanning meant what he said and actually followed through with his words. I believe that if Taxian-jun had known that Chu Wanning was serious, Taxian-jun would not have gone to Taxue Palace. 7. Don't leave me, ok?

Then Chu Wanning died and Mo Ran spent two years alone. In those two years, we know he basically went insane because of grief, talked to a corpse everyday, and deep fried his Empress Consort. But strangely enough, Mo Ran 1.0 did not immediately mention this after being reborn although it was the main reason he committed suicide. And at that point, it had been well over a decade since Shi Mei faked his death in the past timeline, yet Mo Ran 1.0 seemed to still hold a lot of resentment towards Chu Wanning. Also, he said he could accept Shi Mei’s death but would never accept Chu Wanning’s. So honestly, it did not make sense to me the first time I read the novel and I believed Mo Ran resented Chu Wanning for a different reason.

The answer was first hinted at in chapter 9 when Mo Ran scolded the sleeping Chu Wanning. He called Chu Wanning a donkey hoof (lol) and this is actually an idiom to scold someone who is disloyal and unfaithful in love. The puzzles came together when the undead Taxian-jun showed up and immediately went after Chu Wanning (and not Shi Mei). He believed Chu Wanning used his death to hurt him and was angry at Chu Wanning for leaving him. This is the resentment Mo Ran 1.0 carried over to the next timeline. He hated Chu Wanning for abandoning him. This is solidified in chapter 262 by the undead Taxian-jun pleading to Chu Wanning:

“Don’t betray me” “Don’t leave me the second time. The first time you left, I could choose death as a relief. This time, even death is not an option any more… I won’t be able to bear it…”

So there it is! I hope this blog brings some new information and feel free to discuss! Let me know if you have any questions for me ＼(￣▽￣)／

Disclaimer: Plenty of this is my conclusion drawn from the already ambiguous original text and various translations. Unless Meatbun says it, it’s not canon. I am looking at the novel in three different languages so I might have made some mistakes. Pls forgive. Also, I am not making excuses for Mo Ran 0.5’s actions nor am I justifying the abuse in any way. Chu Wanning never said Mo Ran 0.5 was innocent of these crimes nor will I.

#2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun #chu wanning #mo ran #mo weiyu #ranwan #taxian jun #chu fei #erha #husky is dumb but husky tried his best

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