#how many fanfiction levels deep are we right now?

[mrspiffy123]

Hollow Knight's Adventures with Dewi

"Okay, dad! I'm heading out to the woods for a bit!" Dewi threw his bag over his shoulders and tied up his boots. He wanted to spend every possible moment in Hallownest that he could. His dad called back, "Again? You've gone out every day for the past month… just be sure you have your walkie talkie so I can reach you." Dewi was already halfway through the door as he shouted back, "Don't worry, I got it!" and leapt out of the front door, heading back to the cave to meet up with Ghost, Hornet, and all is other insectoid friends.

After some time, Dewi reached the cave Hornet had first brought him to. He'd gotten better at navigating with each visit. Just as Dewi was grabbing the flashlight out of his backpack, he heard a rustle coming from behind. Whatever it was, it sounded much larger than the squirrels and small prey he was used to seeing. He quickly turned around, but didn't see anything. Dewi held the flashlight close in case he needed to bonk anything and run. Suddenly, from a bush popped up to… horn? Antlers? They didn't look like any animal Dewi had seen before. Quickly, the rest of the figure followed until out from the bush appeared… a small, cloaked child. They looked even younger than Dewi, and the wooden mask they wore looked exactly like his friend, Little Ghost.

"Uh… hi?" Dewi lowered his flashlight.

The figure nodded.

"Sorry, I was just… um… meeting some friends here. Do- do you know them? They go by Hornet and Little Ghost- er, just Ghost… I guess"

They nodded again, this time more enthusiastically. The figure pointed to itself.

"You do know them? That's why you're wearing that mask, right?"

They shook their head and again pointed at themselves.

"You… Ghost, is that actually you?"

The figure nodded and walked up to Dewi. Even though Dewi could now see eyes through the mask, their gaze remained empty as usual. He did, however, notice a small sword hanging by their side. "You, still have your sword I see… no, what did Hornet call it? A nail! Though… I guess sword would be more appropriate now." Ghost followed Dewi's gaze and slowly unsheathed the sword. It hesitated in almost every action, like every movement was a conscious effort.

The sword was real, no doubt about it, but it was a far cry from the glowing, pure white metal either of them were used to. The edge was noticeably sharp, but the blade itself was made from a dull, gray alloy. As Ghost put the sword back in its sheathe, Dewi couldn't help but keep asking questions, "What's happening? Did this happen to anyone else? Are they okay? Are you okay? What's going on?" Ghost waited for Dewi to catch his breath before simply shaking their head once. "Nothing, you don't even know or why this happened? W-what's the last thing you remember? Can you act it out?" The little one thought for a moment. It took a step back and started mimicking vague actions. Old habits die hard, it seems, for even with its new limbs and dexterity, Ghost couldn't manage much beyond stiffly waving its arms about.

"I'm sorry, I- I'm not getting anything from that. You can stop." Ghost came back and sat on a nearby rock. The two sat together in silence for a minute, both trying to process what they've found themselves in. After a while, Dewi took off his backpack and began rifling around in it, "Are you… hungry? Do you still need to eat? Did you need to eat before?" Just as he asked, the two heard a rumbling straight from the little one's stomach! Ghost nearly fell off its seat in shock before quickly readying a hand on its sword. Dewi just let out a small chuckle, "I guess that answers all three! Here! It's the best thing I could pack this early in the morning." He handed Ghost a small foil packet. It took the packet, and simply… held it.

"Oh, right. You're probably not used to wrapping, let me get that for you," Dewi grabbed the snack and tore the top open to reveal two pink frosted poptarts. He handed one to Ghost, who again gave nothing but an empty gaze. "It… goes in here," Dewi pointed at his mouth a took a bite from his own poptart to demonstrate. Ghost followed suit, slipping the confection under its mask and pulling it back to reveal a small chunk taken from the corner. "Now chew it, like this," Dewi started chewing through his food, heavily exaggerating the motion. It took Ghost a moment to figure out the movements, but it eventually got a hang of the process. Dewi tried explaining the rest through a mouthful of frosting and jam filling, "now, you shwallow…" He grabbed his water bottle to wash down the rest. He was about to offer it to Ghost before seeing it clearly struggle to figure out the mechanics of swallowing. Dewi couldn't help but giggle at his friend so clearly out of its element.

"Dewi? Ghost? Is that you, little ones?" The two whipped around towards the voice. Behind them stood a woman much taller than Dewi. Her perfect posture would have made her look quite elegant if it wasn't for the ragged cloak she was wearing. In her hands were a ring and a small harpoon, both attached by a long thread of twine, and she wore a mask just like Ghost, only ceramic instead of wood. Dewi recognized her voice immediately, and her mask was unmistakable. Whatever happened to Ghost, it had happened to her too.

"Hornet!" Dewi nearly leapt at her with a hug. She tried to stop him, but the kid's enthusiasm broke through her guard and toppled them both to the ground. "Dewi, please refrain from doing that again! I am not yet familiar with having only four limbs." She nearly had to pry Dewi off her. "Sorry! You don't know how long I've waited for that, now that we're the same size! Well… human sized, at least," he did his best to help Hornet as she slowly got up from the dirt.

"Dewi, what have you done. How have you made us both higher beings such as yourself?" Hornet straightened her mask and dusted off her cloak.

"I didn't do anything! I don't know how to turn bugs into humans!" Dewi was getting increasingly exhausted with Hornet's insistence on Dewi's status as a "higher being". He sat back down on his tree stump, defeated. "To be honest, I kinda hoped I'd get to be a bug and explore Hallownest with you guys. That place sounds so cool…"

"I wouldn't wish such things, Dewi. Even after you and Little Ghost triumphed over the Radiance, Hallownest is still a dangerous place. With your luck, you would wind up alone, or worse, stuck with Lemm." Dewi perked up at the name, "Who's Lemm?" Even in the current situation, he couldn't stop asking about Hallownest. "Just a crotchety old hermit. Lives in the City of Tears, hoarding and obsessing over his relics. I do not believe he would take kindly to your presence, Dewi. Apologies, I did not mean that as an insult."

"Uh… none taken? Oh! You're probably hungry! Ghost is it okay if I…" he plucked the poptart out of Ghost's hands. It hadn't taken more than that first bite, anyway. "Here!"

"What is this?" Hornet eyed the pastry with suspicion.

"It's food!" Dewi continued to offer it with a smile, "it might be a little sweet, but I really like them!" Hornet grabbed the popart cautiously before breaking off a piece and slipping it under her mask, being sure to keep her face hidden from Dewi. She chewed for only a few seconds before spitting on the ground.

"PLEH! This is the food of higher beings!? Is this even natural?!" She was kind enough to give it back to Dewi instead of the ants.

"Well… my dad says they have all kinds of preservatives. He doesn't like me eating too many. Calls them 'an affront to the natural order' but I think they're really tasty!" He breaks a piece off for himself before giving it back to Ghost who continues to hold it absentmindedly. "Here, have some water," he offers the bottle to Hornet.

She grabs the bottle, "This is simply water? Not another disgusting concoction of higher beings?"

"Well you don't have to be mean about it… but yeah, it's just water." He takes the bottle when Hornet's finished and sets it back in his back. He offers Hornet a seat at their new, impromptu meeting spot, to which Hornet silently obliges.

"Dewi, we need to know what is happening, and we are unfamiliar with your world. We do not know if this has happened to anyone else, or who. Are you willing to guide us?"

@lilybug-02 @violetthunderstorm

[grison-in-space]

You know, I've been reading things written by people on the internet for my whole life, or at least my whole life after I was about ten. I'm thirty three now. That means there are people whose words I read on the internet twenty years ago who are presumably still around and occupying the internet—sometimes using names I can recognize from back then, too. (hat tip to my fellow "changing usernames is unnatural actually" brethren; I've only changed one myself twice in the whole world since I was about fourteen or fifteen.)

Sometimes I think about a person I see around occasionally on the internet. That person wrote a story about a character in a rather silly fandom we shared, and I read it as a child just beginning to conceptualize being someone whose opinions might matter. And I remember reading that story at some point, because at that age I had a hyperfixation on that character in that fandom at that time and I read pretty much everything in the genre. I never really got to talk to anyone but the inside of my head about it. My friends didn't read fanfiction, and my parents viewed my reading fanfiction as some kind of depraved, shameful secret. Anyway, I read that story and I remember having some kind of deep realization about how adult humans work while I was reading it.

I learned something about the world from that story. (It was one of those insights that are now so molten alongside my core that it's difficult for me to disentangle them from myself, like "people outside you have their own perspective on your behaviors, but that doesn't mean they have to be right.") And I remember that they know it, because they taught it to me, without meaning to. One of the anonymous impacts on readers that writers never see unless they're extraordinarily lucky.

And I smile, because it's lovely to see them again, and they showed me a skill I still use today. We don't have a relationship of any kind—it would be very difficult to recognize me, I think—but they did me a favor a long time ago. And I remember. Now I get to be reminded that this person still exists, and is still a pretty cool human to be around today, at least for the specific circumstance of internet neighbor. Well, and our modern level of concern about once beloved elders from the distant past going terrifyingly cult-addled and bigoted on short notice.

That has not happened in the slightest. They're just still a pretty nice fandom person who is a bit older than me, who is recognizably the same person they have always been, but more intensely and thoughtfully—like a distilled brandy, not a sour vinegar left out on a countertop too long.

Weirdly, that's a thing I find comforting: this tiny, one way, invisible affection. Every so often I feel this intense affection for a person I've never spoken to or about, because I see them and I love them intensely for a moment and then we both go about our days.

Think about how many interactions you have with people as you go about your day. Wouldn't it be nice to imagine that other people feel like that about you?

I think I'm going to imagine that there's one person that read something I said and thinks that about me. I don't need to ever actually know if it's true: I can just imagine someone who happened to be at a formative moment when they learned something against the background of my words. We'll never know each other as our screennames are lost along the years and we move in and out of touch with parts of ourselves, but we still have that little fond impact on one another, those fingerprints in one another's clay.

It's a nicer world to imagine than the one where no one is paying attention to me, or the only people paying attention to me are mean. And there's really no way to ever know for sure, so why not inhabit the pleasant end of the imaginatory pool if you can?

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 30/? Word count: 2603 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 28. A True Leader

"Two secs, Ted, we have a board radio from Matilde Jørgensen coming in," Crofty said. He, just like everyone else in the world, heard the words from the Ferrari team principal and he looked at Martin Brundle. "Did she just say that they are on their own?"

Brundle squeezed his eyebrows together and processed the moment. Right on that moment, Matilde appeared on the TV: she was leaning back on her chair and her arms crossed in front of her chest, really taking her hands off the leadership. "She did," he said speechlessly. "Can she do that?"

"She just did," Croftly uncomfortably chuckled. "Has someone ever done that before?"

"No, I don't think someone has ever done that like that." Brundle took a deep breath. "I really hope that this is the right decision; otherwise, we can say goodbye to her."

"I don't even want to know what is happening at Ferrari now," Ted said chimed in. "Wow, what a move."

The move left people stunned. Commentators were at a loss for words, uncertain about how to react or what to anticipate next. The board was standing in the garage, shaking their heads and preparing for the immediate dismissal of Matilde Jørgensen. Twitter exploded with a flurry of comments, debating whether Matilde's decision was a bold move or the potential end of her leadership in Formula 1.

There were fifteen laps to go and the tension hung thick in the air, intensified by Matilde's unprecedented decision to release the control and leave it up to her two drivers. There was silence within the team, no more words were shared. Only when crucial information had to be shared, there were people talking. No one understood the decision, it only created many questions and judgements.

Max was still leading, but Charles and Carlos were also fighting for the lead, each driver pushing their car and abilities to the limit. It was Max who held the lead for most of the race, his competitive Red Bull car slicing through the air with precision. However, Charles and Carlos, fueled by a newfound sense of determination, refused to let Max pull away.

With each passing lap, the tension intensified. Nothing really happened after the odd move by the Ferrari team principal, but Charles and Carlos began to close the gap on Max, inching closer with each passing lap. The crowd held its breath as the Ferrari's came closer to Max; the Ferrari duo hunted down the leader.

"Leclerc is making a move on Verstappen!" Crofty yelled in excitement. "Leclerc is taking the lead in the Italian Grand Prix!" He almost couldn't believe it when he saw the red car passing the blue car in the first corner. "Monza goes wild! Wow!"

But the drama wasn't over. Because Max had to defend his position, he lost some time. Carlos plotted his move, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It took some time for Carlos to find the perfect moment.

"Sainz moves out and has to go round the outside of Verstappen! Can Verstappen hold the second position? No! He can't!" Crofty yelled in one breath. "Ferrari did it again in the same corner!"

The Monza crowd erupted into cheers as the Ferrari cars were leading the Italian Grand Prix, their favourite drivers displaying a level of skill that left fans breathless.

"That move from Matilde Jørgensen did something," Brundle then said. "It's like she pulled out the power of these guys to create the best battle of the year." He covered his mouth with his hand. "Brilliant."

The tension in the Ferrari garage was palpable as the last five laps began. Engineers and team members watched with bated breath, their eyes glued to the screens as Charles and Carlos battled for the lead. Matilde's decision to relinquish control has sent shockwaves through the team, but now, as they watched their drivers for victory, there was a sense of unity and purpose. So far.

As the laps dwindled down, the tension reached a fever pitch. Max fought hard to retake the lead, even making one last desperate attempt to overtake, but Charles and Carlos held firm, their defensive manoeuvres denying him any chance of retaking the top spot. Carlos did an excellent job; he was defending his position from Max, but also trying to pass Charles to lead. It was a battle of wills, a clash of titans that had the entire world on the edge of their seats.

Charles crossed the finish line. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he realised what just happened. The loud cheers of the fans filled his ears and he couldn't stop smiling. A happy and relieved cry left his mouth and he laughed in disbelief.

Just a few seconds after that, Carlos crossed the finish line. He immediately looked in his right mirror: Max didn't pass him. Even though he couldn't do better than this, Charles was better during the last stint, Carlos felt like the second place was bittersweet. However, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. A 1-2. At Monza. They did it. They managed to do it anyway. The roar of the crowd echoed in his ears, making him grin and cheer.

In the Ferrari garage, cheers erupted as everyone embraced each other, overcome with emotion at the realisation of their victory. At the beginning of the race, it looked like they didn't even have a chance to win. Everyone was extremely focused on the agreed strategy, but adjusting and customising the strategy during the race, was the key to this victory. This was the victory everyone worked so hard for.

Matilde's eyes glistened with tears of happiness as she watched her drivers bask in the glory of their achievement. She raised her arms up in the air; a victory. She turned around and looked at the garage: everybody was so happy and celebrating the win. Her smile told stories; this was exactly why she worked so unbelievably hard. Despite the doubts and uncertainties earlier in the race, her decision to trust her drivers had paid off in the most spectacular way.

Abele was the first mechanic to walk up to Matilde and hugged her. "You are so brilliant, Matilde," he laughed. "You are unbelievable."

A laugh rolled over her lips. "The team did it," she said. 

He couldn't stop smiling when he pulled back. He patted her back and walked back to his fellow engineers.

Matilde stayed seated behind the pitwall, processing the moment. All the engineers behind the pitwall congratulated each other. Matilde's cheeks started to hurt because she couldn't stop smiling. She relaxed her shoulders and bit her lip. The cheers and thankful words of the boys filled the radio.

"Matilde, go to the podium," the chief mechanic mentioned.

Her eyes widened and she looked around; everyone at the wall looked at her; they wanted her on the podium. She pushed the button to open the line. "This is one of many," she said. "Maybe next time."

"Really?"

"Really." She didn't want to be on the podium of the first win, not of the second win (home victory), but during the championship winning race.

"Sure," the chief mechanic said perplexedly. "Abele, the podium is yours!"

Matilde took off the headset and got up, looking towards Parc fermé; the place was already filled with friends and family, team members of Redbull and the team members of Ferrari. She decided to stay at the pitwall, since she got a beautiful view of the podium. And she would congratulate Charles and Carlos after. And she would give a speech in front of the entire team. There was so much happening that Matilde didn't know where to look, where to put her attention, who to talk to, what to do or what to say.

"Matilde!" Someone shouted. Matilde looked confused around her, looking for the person in question. "Here, above you!"

Matilde looked up. "Oh, hi," she said and a smile came on her face.

"Come here!"

A few people from Ferrari were hanging on the grid wall - and yes, they were allowed to now since the race was over. Matilde left the headset at the pitwall and climbed up, hanging next to her colleagues, having even a better view of the podium. She looked around; so many fans were running over the grid to get the perfect spot to see the podium. The smile on her face didn't get washed off. 

Max was the first one to enter the podium. Casual cheers filled the grid. When Carlos entered the podium, a chorus of cheers and applause that seemed to envelop the entire circuit. Fans and crew members couldn't stop cheering, their faces alive with excitement. A proud emotion flowed through Matilde's veins when she saw one of her drivers smiling widely. Then Abele walked on the podium; Matilde and her team were cheering extremely loud for their mechanic. But then... Then Charles walked on the podium and the roar of the crowd echoed through the air. This had to be one of the loudest cheers the team had heard in years. Charles waved and couldn't stop smiling. Memories were made and captured.

Matilde looked around, feeling a surge of emotion wash over her. She had never experienced something like this before. Her heart swelled with pride as she watched the scene unfold before her. There were so many fans standing on the grid, so many were cheering and many were waving Italian or Ferrari flags. Matilde looked to the pitlane; she had never seen so many guests and teams watch this podium. It was a moment she had dreamed of, worked so hard for, and it was finally here. Her drivers stood tall, their faces alight with joy as they waved to the adoring fans below.

The Monacan anthem was blasting through the speakers at first. As soon as the Italian anthem began, the Italian started to scream the words. Matilde's jaw dropped, goosebumps spread over her arms. A massive smile came on her face; she got blown away by this moment. When overseeing this moment, it was a moment of profound pride. Pride in her team, who had worked tirelessly to achieve this moment. Pride in her drivers, whose skill and determination had brought them to this podium. And secretly, most of all, pride in herself, for leasing her team to this incredible victory. They have made endless kilometres to get to this point.

Amidst the cheers and applause after the national anthem and receiving the trophies, everyone of the Ferrari team felt a sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the opportunity to be part of such a remarkable team. Gratitude for the massive support of their team principal and colleagues. And gratitude for this moment.

When the ceremony was over, Matilde carefully stood on the ground again and accepted some celebratory words from guests and former teammates. Then she spotted her family in the crowd. She walked over to them, well, jumped. She fell in the arms of both her brothers and they all jumped around while laughing.

"What the fuck, man," Lars said, stopped jumping and held his little sister in front of him by holding her shoulders. "You have so fucking much courage to do this," he smiled. "Well fucking done."

"You really said: fuck them all," Jens added and laughed.

Matilde laughed in disbelief; she was lost for words. Even though this was her second win as team principal, this victory felt more legit because the entire team worked together. The first win in Miami felt like a one-sided win, and this was a team-sided victory. "It's because of you," she said to her big brothers. "You came to the race."

"You did it on your own, Tils," Jens replied. "You can say that. Go to your team, celebrate this victory with them. We will see you later."

Matilde nodded, greeted the rest of her family and she made her way through the crowd towards her colleagues, exchanging hugs and high-fives with them, each congratulating her on the team's incredible victory. When she saw Charles and Carlos in her eyesight, she walked, well, again, jumped over to them in excitement.

"Oh, my god, you were amazing," Matilde excitedly said and hugged Charles, not minding the sweat and champagne on his body. "Well done. Couldn't be more proud."

Charles wrapped his arm around her waist. "Thank you," he laughed. "You were brilliant." He pulled back and scanned her face; the smile on her face said everything.

She let go of them and stepped towards Carlos. "Outstanding," she smiled. "You drove so unbelievably strong, Carlos. I'm so proud of you," she said and hugged him. 

"Thank you," Carlos gratefully said. "You have to explain the decision to me because I need to know your thoughts," he said.

They all looked at each, smiling like crazy idiots.

"Sorry, I don't know how to act," Matilde then said and laid her hands on her cheeks. "I forgot how to act like a team principal," she chuckled uncomfortably.

In the meantime many post-race shows started. The drivers who weren't on the podium, were already standing in the media area for the interviews. F1TV was standing in the middle of the paddock, having a beautiful view of the winner. Will Buxton and Luca Filippi were observing Ferrari, looking at them while hosting the post-race show.

"It's just beautiful to see all the emotions, the joy, happiness..." Buxton said. "They have worked so hard for this victory. What do you think of the decisions that have been made throughout the race?"

Filippi nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. This victory is not just about crossing the finish line first, it's about the decisions, indeed. I think it was a brilliant decision to let Leclerc and Sainz race on their own."

"It was a shocking call. Was Jørgensen even allowed to make the call?"

"Well, it's all about the reason behind the call. In this case, the strategy wasn't working anymore. And the team already did everything according to the strategy. There was nothing the team could have done for Leclerc and Sainz - only if there was a safety car. It was a risk to make this decision, but are you a driver, strategist or team principal if you don't take the risk?" Filippi reminded everyone. "I think Jørgensen wanted to give Leclerc and Sainz the confidence, freedom and opportunity to let them show how good of a driver they are. This call was a push into victory. And it worked, they both passed Verstappen and brought this iconic way home." He smiled. "A team principal would never let her or his team down. Never. This was just a psychological push into the right direction."

"It certainly worked. I think no one thought Ferrari would win this weekend," Buxton admitted, speaking for a lot of people. "As team principal, Matilde Jørgensen has been a guiding light for Ferrari for the past few races."

"Absolutely. And this race showed something: the trust Jørgensen has in Leclerc, Sainz and her team. A few months ago, there was no trust within the team and they showed it to everyone. With this kind of trust, they can challenge Verstappen and Red Bull easily. Isn't it wonderful to see how the dynamics are changing within Ferrari?" Filippi looked impressed, his expression serious. "They can beat Red Bull by using the right philosophy. And they used the right philosophy today."

"I think we can all agree on Matilde's leadership being instrumental in Ferrari's comeback this year. It's safe to say she is not just a team principal; she's a motivator, a visionary. And above all, a true leader," Buxton smiled.

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313@blodwyn4u@sltwins @heart-trees

[waeirfaahl]

The way to slightly fix S05E09 and S05E10

In previous post I discussed about how to make the leading to the love-story less infuriating, here I'll discuss about how to make 9 and 10 episodes of 5 season less infuriating.

I have no ideas, which could make the decision to return to the past and to erase the future right — it is wrong from all sides, it dergadates Jack and genocides all habitants of the future and also makes Ashi more dusgusting character. The only what comes to my mind is simply to add the existing of Aku's spell and/or technology, which would be activated exactly when Aku was dead/killed — some kind of "I am the future! Nobody else! Especially the samurai and his worthless kind!". On another hand, Jack simply could just imprison Aku either in the stone tree (what actually had to happen in 5 season even in the past) or in the sword.

So, about 9 episode. Here, here, here and here I discussed in deepest details, why the sudden "Luke, I am your father!" bullsh*t in 9 episode makes zero sense, why this "twist" is absolutely impossible, why this "twist" contradicts to the canon of the classic seasons and breaks them on fundamental level, making them impossible from the beginning, why this "twist" contradicts even to 5 season itself, and why this "twist" is insulting toward Aku and disgraces this character in the worst way. And I hate and despise the very idea of Aku having daughters, I hate and despise the very idea of Aku mating with humans, and I hate and despise the idea of "a female human is pregnant after either mating with the supernatural being or immacular conception and gives birth to demigod abominations". Insulting, mediocre and disgusting sh*t from bad fanfiction, it is a bad taste straight up and the blatant travesty on Aku.

First of all, Tartakovsky's mind apparently was rotten with religion, because he turned Aku, the supernatural trickster with awesome, unique and really interesting biology and tragic backstory, into a typical and cliched satan/devil with obvious cliches like worshipers from nowhere, who treat him like a god and get his strength to their kids or whatever. (later Tartakovsky will call the Scandinavian deity of vengeance/revenge as a devil in 2 season of Primal)

And it is not my assumption, the entire 5 season has these weird religious elements — like, the sudden religious zealots, who treat the "wrong evil spirit" as a rightful and kind god, who gives his "flesh and blood" to them for worshipping, the travelling inside of the giant beast, what changes the mind of the character with "wrong beliefs", the "sacrifise" of this new "half-breed" character in favor of humans (and apparently for getting an immortal soul and a chance for rebirth), the idea "Humans are the purest, the most noble and innocent, we can't kill humans, it is a sin" or whatever, how Tartakovsky compares the future with Hell, and also the line from 5 season "Aku enslaved the children with his beats from Hell!" — yep, in the f*cking distant 4000+ future we hear this sudden bullsh*t with Hell (in contrast to this, in the classic seasons there was only "Aku's evil beats", i.e. simply a dictator type). I hate, when authors reduce something unique, deep, intriguing to this primitive religious sh*t. Especially, when it wasn't intended originally, and when it is opposite concept, i.e. impossible to co-exist with.

Second, Tartakovsly's mind was rotten with "A poor girl with bad/abusive/absent daddy" cliche — like, now let's ignore Hotel Transilvania or 2 season of Primal or recent Unicorn: Warriors Eternal series for a second, just look at Aku's reaction and behavior in 9 episode — the demon was pretty friendly to Ashi and ignored her, having no intentions to harm her, but as soon as he discovered that Ashi is his spawn or most likely just an infected vessel of his blood, Aku immediately started to mock on her and mistreat her and act bad toward her. As if Tartakovsky knew that many people enjoy Aku and intentionally ruined this character by adding this crap, totally ignoring that it contradicts to the canon and Aku's core and personality, and that it doesn't work at all due to "Why should I despise you?! We have no relationships whatsoever! We don't know each other at all!" and also how stupid it is to mourn due to sudden "Oh no, my sudden relative or blood donor I never knew is a villain! Poor me!" and how stupid it is due to "Excuse me, why you judge and blame me?! I don't know this girl! It is even not one night stand! It is as if your hair were used for creating either clones or chimera without your permission and awareness, and for some reason everybody will blame you for unawareness and how you dared to be bad toward these abominations!".

Third, attempting to connect Ashi to Aku, Tartakovsky makes Ashi more disgusting Mary Sue, who steals Aku's backstory and arc, but also Tartakovsky erases the good build up Ashi already had — she survived, she trained, she remained human, she took revenge on her monstrous mother for all cruelty she commited to Ashi and her other daughters, she befriended with Jack and started to study and to learn positive life and feelings. And also Tartakovsky makes another hypocritical thing by this "Ashi, I am your father/creator, so I'll be bad to you and you'll oppose me!" sh*t — Tartakovsky totally ignores, forgets and erases Ashi's mother and her crimes, cruelty, affect and influence on Ashi, he tries to blame Aku in this, as if the demon knew and planned everything and himself mistreated Ashi since her infancy with the fanatical leader's hands or whatever (remember Tara Strong's words in interview about the game?)...

...despite the fact that Aku knew nothing about these zealots and their leader's intentions and goals, he didn't give any orders to them or to someone else, Aku knew nothing and did nothing in 5 season, only the fanatical mother is to blame for the existence of Ashi and her sisters and their horrible life, full of suffering and death. (And in contrast to this, the three alien gods knew everything and started the conflict and did nothing, they participated in this, not to mention that the human soul they used for the sword... is not pure) So, how this trash from 9 and 10 episodes can be fixed? Easy — Aku simply could take control over Ashi, using a spell — like, the transformed Ashi looks like those cursed archers, so why not? For increasing the stakes, Aku could infect Ashi with his blood, calling his tiny part as his "little naughty daughter that can play with this mortal young female toy before eating" (I mean, he previously called Ultra-robots as "My children!", i.e. he called as "his child" his tiny parts, which even haven't become separate organisms, and vessels of his blood, i.e. it is metaphorical thing, not literal), and then finding out Ashi's sad backstory (i.e. Aku never visited those female fanatics and knew nothing about them — plus, Ashi's father can be either some random human, maybe a zealot from this same cult, or most likely Ashi and her sisters can be born without a father) and mocking on both her and Jack, 'cause he can't help her, as well as 'cause Ashi can't oppose to Aku's blood that controls her and slowly and painfully devours.

And Jack doesn't use the sword for burning Aku's blood from Ashi's body and gives up exactly after Aku silently commanded to his blood to torture, to crook Ashi's body and to almost break all Ashi's bones, so she screamed due to pain.

While in 10 episode Aku's decision to not kill Ashi immediately after he caught Jack can be explained by his confidence that the girl under his control and spiritually she is weak enough in contrast to already wounded Jack. So, he mocks on her like "You already spent enough time having me as your awesome daddy and entertaining my little daughter, but now it has come to the end! Kill the samurai, my dear, be useful to your crazy mother that terrified even me after reading your memories! Don't disappoint her at least once, after this — goodby, my sweetheart, my daughter will eat you alive and you'll not suffer anymore!" — simply saying, Aku would command to his blood to devour the infected Ashi immediately after she would kill Jack.

So after Jack's friends arrive and distract Aku, the infected Ashi (or specifically Aku's blood) attacks Jack, Jack tries to free Ashi, she is weakened and says that she can't rebell and that no one needs her in this world, she is just a worthless replica of her mother, so better to let the demonic blood to kill her, better to die, while Jack says that it is not true, that Ashi is not her monstrous mother and can choose a path, that she already did that, and that he (Jack) needs her and values her and loves her, and she gave to him the desire to live and to continue the battle. And then Ashi has inner unfair epic fight with the demonic blood and wins — i.e. Ashi became free exactly due to own inner spiritual strength and Jack's support, not due to the stupid "Power of Love".

And later Aku sees that she is free from his blood and control and attacks Ashi, but Jack reachs for the sword and fights the demon, who already killed the 3/4 of all Jack's arrived friends. Yes, no sudden demonic powers — no way Ashi would ever have them and use. Not to mention stupidity of this — in 5 season Aku defeated the Portal Guardian, who defeated and almost killed Jack, but failed to the teenage human girl. So, no this bullsh*t.

And after this we have the final, which I mentioned in the beginning of this post — Jack imprisons Aku either in the stone tree or in the sword, deciding to stay in the future (and, well, Ashi could give to Jack the idea of "You showed me the path of light, maybe for Aku there's a chance. When I was under his control, I could see his memories he hid for centuries and wanted to forget. And he actually hesitated in killing me."). So, that's how the final episodes of 5 season could be done and handled (if we're talking about the story and direction 5 season chose). I dislike the idea of "Fix-It" format (pointless spending of time, if you well), I prefer to erase the bad sequels from the universe and create new stories, but since I don't have the certain production materials for certain post yet, I can't publish my AU of 5 season for now, I want to end with that post with production materials firstly.

[theladyofdeath]

Lady Death's Lover {II}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR Based on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: I'm sorry I waited until, like, midnight to post this. As the school year approaches, I find myself in a constant state of panic and stress. Haha. Anyways, thank you for reading the prologue and chapter 1! I love seeing your feedback. This chapter is fairly light in the way of trigger warnings, but as always, know that this story contains the following. Thank you for reading! x

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression, alcohol abuse

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

Nesta

The gown I’m wearing cost more than what my sisters, father, and I spent in a year on clothing only a few years ago. It’s a stunning deep blue that brings out my eyes. The skirt is full and the bodice is laced in beads that sparkle when they hit the light. A braid crowns my head and the bruise has faded on my cheek enough that the powder covers it. 

I wait in the foyer for Tomas who seems to be taking his sweet time. It takes a certain level of disrespect to keep someone waiting for an extended period of time, but it’s the least of the cruelties that my husband inflicts upon me. 

Just when I’m ready to board the carriage alone, Tomas comes down the grand staircase dressed in his finest. He is handsome, only a few years older than myself. He’s wearing his full evening dress, and even I, who loathes him, has to admit that he looks fine in tails. I hate it, hate that he’s handsome, hate that I have to hang on his arm all evening instead of gracing the dance floor. 

The carriage ride is silent. We sit on opposite benches, facing one another. We’ve nearly reached our destination by the time he speaks.

“How was your afternoon?”

His words are so sudden that it makes me jump. I clear my throat. “Fine, I suppose. I went to the dressmaker and had tea with Gwyn and Emerie.”

He cringes at the informal use of my closest friends’ names. I rarely see them and know that Tomas disapproves, even if he’s never said it outright. “Lovely, dear.”

I do not progress the conversation, I simply let it drop and stare out the window once more. 

When the coach stops, we are sitting in front of a grand townhouse. It’s massive, larger than our own home in town. I’ve not been here before nor do I know the owner. It’s one of Tomas’ many business partners, the names of whom I don’t bother to memorize. 

Nonetheless, the home we enter is beautiful. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen and I’m mesmerized as I cross the threshold. 

Everything is black, but it is elegant. Among the dark interior, there are paintings of the night sky, murals on the ceiling of the famous starlight of Velaris. White roses are strung throughout the hall, the stark petals leading to the ballroom, where people are gathered and a string quartet plays. 

“Beautiful,” I breathe, allowing myself to be dragged by Tomas.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” It’s clear he’s not paying attention to me, but right now I don’t mind. “Chin up. Back straight. Don’t speak unless you’ve been asked a direct question. Think wisely about your answers before you voice them.”

I don’t respond. A sudden, familiar emptiness fills my core.

We round the ballroom until we’re gathered with a herd of people I don’t know but Tomas seems to. My arm remains looped through his and I smile, completely charmed, as voices surround us. The conversation is nothing more than muddled noise that I ignore as my eyes scan my surroundings. I watch as gentlemen ask the young ladies of Velaris to dance. I watch as they take to the floor and follow the commonly known steps while the music plays jovially from the platform near the corner. 

I envy them. I used to love to dance, used to come alive as the music played. Even now, I feel it in my bones while the quartet plays and I feel nothing but dread as I remain perfectly still, side by side with my husband. I don’t show it, though. The smile remains plastered on my face and I nod politely as each new person is introduced to me.

“Care for a smoke, Mandray?” 

Tomas looks at me and frowns, but I smile politely. “Don’t worry about me, my dear. I’ll get a drink and stand with the other married ladies.” 

He thinks for a minute, but then he nods and his arm slips from mine, giving me a sudden sense of freedom. I know he doesn't like leaving me alone in a room full of people but to decline an offer would speak of a weakness in both our marriage and his manhood, so he leaves me be. 

True to my word, I walk toward the refreshments table and grab a filled champagne flute. The bubbles tickle going down my throat and I can’t help my foot as it begins to tap along with the tune. 

“Lovely, isn’t it?”

I spin around, nearly flinging the fillings of my glass over the rim as I do so. A man stands behind me, tall and broad-shouldered, smiling kindly. His hair is long, which I find ridiculous, even if it’s pulled back neatly at the nape of his neck. He’s handsome, but not as a gentleman should be. He looks as if he should be working by the docks or in a lumber yard, perhaps in the mines. He looks more like a man that would live in my old village, not a member of high society. 

“The music?” I ask, and he nods. “Yes. Beautiful.”

I turn away from him, back towards the quartet. I watch as they expertly handle their instruments. 

“Would you care to dance?” 

My back stiffens as I turn to face my intruder once more. “Pardon?”

“Dance?” he asks, and his hazel eyes are lit with humor. “You know…what they’re all doing out there. Having fun.” 

Fun.

That was a word I haven’t heard in a long while, a word I haven’t felt. The offer is tempting and part of me wants to say yes, just to feel alive for a few minutes. 

“I’m married,” I say, simply.

He stares at me. Blinks. “And?”

My brows, I swear, shoot up into my hairline. “And…that means I cannot dance with you.” 

“Does it?” he asks, and a stupid, cocky little grin lifts the side of his mouth. “I don’t recall reading that in the rulebook.”

Knowing full well there isn’t a rule book, I feel my eyes narrow. “You, sir, are awfully inappropriate.”

“It is not inappropriate to ask a Lady to dance.”

“But it is to ask a married woman. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr…”

“Nazari. Lord Cassian—”

“Yes, well, thank you for the offer but I obviously must decline.” I hand my half-emptied glass to a passing server and go to step around Lord Cassian. 

He steps in front of me. “I did not catch your name.”

“My name is not yours to know,” I say, and try to step around him yet again.

He follows me once more. “Please do not make me endure the rest of the night without us being properly introduced.”

I take a deep breath, trying my best to keep my cool. “Lady Mandray.” 

That cocky smile of his fades, and he’s left staring at me looking completely unsettled. “You’re married to Tomas Mandray?”

“I am,” I say, the words feeling hollow as they leave me. 

He nods and bows his head. “Very well. I apologize for the disruption of your evening. Enjoy the music.”

Before I can reply, he’s hurrying far away from me. It seems my husband has the same effect on strangers that he does on me. 

His reaction makes me think a little better of the man I just met, as awful as that may seem.

I do not join the other married women. They don’t seem to like me all that much and I honestly don’t care for them. The conversations are meaningless and I don’t care to answer over and over again how soon we’ll be having children. I wish Emerie and Gwyn were here. Although they’re at some of the events that I’m dragged to, they rarely come to the balls. They are not married nor are they looking for husbands, claiming and content to be spinsters, but that is what drew me to them in the first place, their freedom even in society. 

So I stand here, close to the refreshments even though I’ve given up my glass. I watch young gentlemen and ladies dance, watch as they smile and laugh and move freely to the music. And I can’t help when my eyes find Lord Cassian as he speaks with another young lady across the hall. His body is so relaxed, his smile so easy, and I loathe him for that.

Jealousy is a bitch and it’s all I seem to be feeling tonight. Jealousy, and loneliness.

…….

Cassian 

“Would you like me to introduce you to Mandray?” 

My smile falters and I clear my throat. “Of course. Eh, let’s hope that the fact that I tried to charm his wife doesn’t ruin his impression of me.”

Beside me, Azriel snorts. Rhysand’s lips form a tight line. “You hit on his wife?”

“I didn’t know she was his wife,” I mutter, crossing my arms. “I didn’t know she was anyone’s wife. I saw a pretty woman. I asked her to dance.”

Rhysand’s eyes narrow. “Why do I feel that wasn’t the end of the conversation?”

I sip from my champagne.

Pretty isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe Lady Mandray, but I can’t tell my brothers that she is, by far, the most terrifyingly beautiful woman I have ever crossed paths with. Traditional beauty had been thrown out the window and replaced with a cold, intricate beauty that was unknown to society and the world beyond. The type of beauty that was Lady Mandray could not be replicated. No, I wouldn’t tell them that. That would be inappropriate and although I love the inappropriate most of the time, being inappropriate with the man I’m attempting to invest with to boost my fortune seems to be crossing a line.

“Well, let’s hope his wife remains quiet and no one overheard,” Rhysand says, shaking his head. “It would be just like you to cause a scandal at my event, of all places.” 

“No scandal, just a misunderstanding,” I assure him. At least, I try to. The look in his eye tells me to watch myself for the remainder of the evening. I try not to let that piss me off as I take another drink. 

Just as I’m about to ask Rhys to make the introduction, I see a familiar face out of the corner of my eye and a slow smile spreads across my lips. There’s someone I could have fun with and cause no scandal.

None that hasn’t been spread before, anyway. 

“One dance, then I’ll meet Mandray.” I’m moving before the words are out of my mouth. I move around the outskirts of the dancefloor, tossing my drink aside on the way, until I’m stopping behind a long-legged blonde in a red dress.

I bow. “Miss Morrigan.”

She’s turning, eyes narrowed, before I stand back at full height. “I swear, every time you call me that it makes me hate you just a little bit more.” 

“You don’t hate me.” I grin. “If you hated me, you wouldn’t accept the dance I’m about to offer you and we both know that you can’t say no to a dance with me.” 

With a roll of her eyes, she takes my outstretched hand and we join the other dancers as a quadrille begins. It’s not the best dance for conversation but we seem to carry one anyway without caring about those around us. 

“You’re late,” I say, as the music becomes lively. “I didn’t think you were going to show.”

“Missed me?” she asks with a wink. “You missed tea this past Monday. Maybe I was angry with you.”

We come together and spin around as I ask, “No, I just figured you were holed up with someone you weren’t supposed to be again.”

Her eyes grow bright as we part and the softest shade of pink tinges her cheeks. She looks around to make sure those closest to us didn’t hear, but I know they didn’t. It takes a few seconds for us to come back together, but when she does she says, “No, that was last weekend. Tonight I just felt like arriving late so that everyone would have to look at me as I entered.” 

It worked. It always did. Mor was stunning, beautiful to everyone who looked her way. She took my virginity, and I took hers, when we were teenagers. It was awkward and horrible and I lasted no more than twenty seconds. It took her a long time to convince me that such a horribly awkward experience wasn’t what opened her eyes to realizing that she didn’t like men at all in such a way — a fact that only a few of us know and keep secret in her honor. Me, Azriel, Rhys, our friend Amren. We’ll keep that secret until we no longer walk this earth. 

But, it’s nice to know that she finds someone to spend her time with every now and then. I want to ask about the mystery woman that she spent the weekend with, but it’ll have to wait until Monday’s tea time. 

The dance ends a minute later and we all take our bow, then I’m sweeping her to where Rhysand and Azriel are in deep conversation with a group of young ladies. Mor’s arm loops through mine when I see her. 

Lady Mandray is watching me, and I can tell she’s pissed that I caught her. I offer her a smile, but maybe it comes off a bit too cocky because her pursed lips seem to amplify. She quickly turns on her heels and exits the room, which leaves me confused and strangely aroused. 

Mor catches me looking and leans in closer. “And who is that?”

“The wife of Lord Tomas Mandray,” I answer, my smile fading. “Met earlier tonight. We didn’t hit it off.”

Mor gasps, patting my arm. “Lord Cassian Nazari didn’t instantly sweep a woman off her feet? My, my. You must be getting old.”

I shoot her a look that makes her grin widen, but we say nothing more as we reach our destination. I fall into the chaos that consists of the ladies of Velaris desperately wanting to charm a man into becoming their husbands until we politely dismiss ourselves to find Lord Mandray. 

We find him in a smoke-filled room full of gentlemen and Rhysand makes the introduction. We talk for no more than two minutes before he’s called away, apparently a much sought after man of high society. 

After those two minutes, I deduce two things.

One: investing with him will make me more money in a month than all my tenants combined make me in a year. 

Two: I would hate to be the woman married to that asshole. 

[lutiaslayton]

Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva

ＰＡＲＴ　１８

〚ＦＩＲＳＴ〛〚ＰＲＥＶ〛〚ＮＥＸＴ〛

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation for the Japan-exclusive novellisation of the movie Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva. The original novel was written by Aya Matsui under the supervision of Akihiro Hino, and belongs to Level-5.

This translation only aims to be a pleasant read for non-Japanese fans, nothing more: I made a few deliberate changes while translating in order to get the writing style closer to what is usually found in English fanfictions, as the Japanese storytelling can sometimes be different than what we are used to.

＊ The Eternal Diva

I heard my father’s voice calling my name from far away.

Just as the waves always return to the beach, so my consciousness returned again.

I saw the worried look on his face. I had seen it many times before. It was the same sad look that he would give me when I was bedridden…

“Papa…”

“Melina! Thank goodness, you’re safe!”

His warm hands embraced me.

“Don’t go anywhere else without me! Please don’t leave me behind again!”

Leave him behind…

“I promised I’d protect you. Come on, let’s go home together. I can play the piano and you can sing again…”

Papa kept talking more and more, as if he wanted me to stop me from saying anything.

But… it had to be said. I had to tell him how I felt…

I interrupted him. “I’m sorry.”

“Even before I died, I was already making you grieve. I brought you so much torment…”

“Of course not! It’s all my fault! I couldn’t save you…”

“This was destined to happen, Papa. It wasn’t your fault.”

“No! I won’t let you…”

I took his hand and said quietly: “Papa, I want you to live a new life now…”

His eyes widened in horror. “I don’t want a new life!” he exclaimed, shaking my hand off.

He started welling up.

The professor, Luke and the others were looking at us in silence.

I smiled at him and prayed.

“I… know.” I gently reminded him, as if our roles of father and daughter had been reversed: “Even if I am completely gone, my thoughts will always live on…”

He startled, then his body stiffened. Poor Papa, he was so scared…

“I’m always going to stay with you, Papa. You just won’t be able to see it…”

“No, stop talking. Don’t say any more of this, Melina…”

“Papa, there is something you would always tell me when you went out for your concerts.”

I thought back to the days I had spent with him. It could not have been that long ago, and yet it felt like an eternity.

“Even though I’m far away…”

With a distant look in his eyes, he continued alongside me:

“…Even though I’m far away, I always think of you when I play the piano…”

“And this is because I always think of you too.”

How many times I had heard him say these words, ever since I was a little girl… Every time we had this exchange, like some sort of code between us, it would fill me with the happy reminder that I was loved.

Please listen, Papa.

“This is the same now. I will be there for you whenever you remember me.”

He finally seemed to understand what I really meant. It seemed that he wanted to say something, but he merely looked at me, unable to find his words.

I gently let go.

“Farewell, Papa.”

I smiled. When I left him a year ago, I was not healthy enough to give that to him… But I had this chance now, and I wanted to take it.

So for a moment, I looked at him with a smile on my face; though I was almost interrupted by tears.

“Thank you… for loving me.”

I meant it from the bottom of my heart. I doubted that any other daughter could have been given such deep love.

Even though the means to express it ended up being so wrong.

The time we had spent together may have been short… but love cannot be measured in time.

“Come on, I have to go now.”

I turned my back to him and everyone else, and started walking away. There was one more person I had to thank and say goodbye to.

I stopped near the edge of the cliff… and called out the name of my irreplaceable best friend.

“Janice… I’m sorry I borrowed your body for so long.”

Before I knew it, she was right beside me. Her voice was as warm as always.

“Melina, don’t go! Once you leave, you won’t…”

“It’s alright, Janice. I shouldn’t be here. It’s for Papa’s sake, too.”

I clutched the pendant hanging on our chest.

“The pendant I left you… it was nice of you to take care of it…”

“Melina!”

Tears welled up and streamed down our cheeks.

Janice, don’t cry… When I was fine, we always laughed, didn’t we?

No matter what we would do or talk about, we were always smiling. So this time, again…

I wiped away the tears.

“Goodbye… From now on, you must live your own life, Janice Quatlane.”

She was able to sacrifice herself for her friend. Her noble and pure heart allowed me to have a very nice time in my last days. Really, from the bottom of my heart… Thank you.

I want you to have a wonderful life. That is my most sincere wish…

Just a few more minutes… please give me time to say goodbye to everyone, Janice.

I turned around and looked at my father.

“Goodbye, Papa.”

“Melina…”

Then, to Luke…

“Goodbye, Luke…”

Please don’t look so sad, Luke. Never had I ever met a boy as kind and brave as you. And I will never forget your words…

They really fit you.

“…Mr Future Gentleman.”

“Melina…”

And then, finally… I turned to the professor.

“Goodbye, Professor Layton…”

“Melina…”

Professor, I could never find the words to express how happy spend time with you made me feel…

There were times when I lamented the fact that I would leave nothing but memories behind, but if that was my destiny…

This was why, Professor… I wanted to give my heartfelt gratitude to the heavens and destiny for letting me meet you.

“It was a pleasure to have you be a part of my last memories…”

Janice’s eyes widened.

“Melina? Meli…”

Though the voice was the same, her mood had somehow shifted.

That was when I understood… It was Janice that was now standing before us.

She stood still, tears filling her eyes in silence…

“Janice…” the professor called out softly.

“Professor, Melina is gone. She was right next to me just a moment ago…”

He walked up to her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

She was gone…? No. No, she was not!

I ran up to Janice before I knew it.

“Janice! Melina isn’t gone!” I shouted as loud as I could.

“Luke…”

She sounded surprised, but I wasn’t going to stop. I couldn’t.

“Even if she disappears, her thoughts will always be with us… That’s what Melina said! Isn’t that right, Professor?”

Melina was still very close, because my heart was full of feelings for her.

The professor looked at me and nodded quietly. Thank you, Professor.

“Her thoughts will always stay close…”

Janice also nodded.

“Always close…” Amelia muttered.

Perhaps she was thinking about her dying grandfather… And indeed, that also applied to her. Even if her grandfather was going to be out of sight, he would be there for her whenever she would think of him.

In the midst of the silence, Inspector Grosky walked up Mr Whistler, who had fallen to his knees.

“Mr Whistler, you are under arrest.”

He nodded weakly and stood up.

It was then that he realised something and seemed to have an epiphany. He started to run at a small pace towards some debris of the Detragan… among which stood a keyboard.

He fearfully placed his fingers on the keys, then put all his strength into it. A sound, similar to that of a pipe organ, echoed through the air.

Mr Whistler laid a pleading gaze on the inspector.

“I’m begging you. Just one last song…”

The inspector left him silently. After a few seconds, Mr Whistler began to play the tune from the ‘Eternal Diva,’ the final song of his opera. And then, Janice walked up to him and started to sing.

���

As we rise out of the sea The stars’ glimmers sing praises This soul remains close to your heart As the sunlight filtering through the foliage sparkles The forest’s raindrops sing praises These eyes shall sleep and watch over your dreams Count the lives that sank at the bottom of the sea We believe that someday This prayer will reach you Now let the eternal slumber alone prevail The tears of the beloved… dissolve into the sea…

The sound of the Detragan and Janice’s singing continued and seemed to have no end, and descended upon the ruins of Ambrosia. To me, those ruins seemed to act like an audience, quietly listening to their performance.

The professor began to speak quietly:

“Immortality in Ambrosia did not mean eternal life after all… But rather, that the kingdom itself would sleep forever, as it mourned the death of its queen…”

So the elixir of immortality existed only in legend. In the Kingdom of Ambrosia, the love the people had for their Queen was stronger than any secret potion.

It was hard to believe that they had laid the kingdom itself to rest at the bottom of the sea…

Janice’s voice drifted over the ruins of the kingdom and into the horizon, from which the sun started to emerge. Its soft glow was caught in her pendant… and a curious thing happened.

The light of the sun combined with the light of the pendant’s gemstone, into one new light that illuminated the sea back to us.

Particles of light, like diamond dust, fell on the island of Ambrosia.

Everyone looked up at the sky in amazement. I wondered if those light particles pouring down were some form of blessing sent to the Kingdom of Ambrosia, celebrating its return to the surface.

For a moment, my mind flashed to the scene of a parade by the people of the Kingdom of Ambrosia in honour of their Queen. The grains of light then overlapped with the petals that would be scattered high in the sky during the parade.

“The people of the kingdom deeply mourned the death of their Queen, and thus made themselves eternal until the day when the Queen would be reborn again…”

As I recalled what the legend said, a thought suddenly occurred to me. The Queen had now returned to the Kingdom of Ambrosia, and…

“Professor, I wonder if Melina… Could she have been a reincarnation of the Queen of Ambrosia?”

He agreed with my words straight away.

“You could be right, Luke. The kingdom is now finally waking up from its long sleep, and has started a new chapter in its time…”

The sun was now completely out of the horizon and the kingdom was glowing with a dazzling light.

“For the Queen’s… No. The Eternal Diva’s spirit has returned.”

　⇚　　　　　　　⇛

[mareenavee]

For the ask game (if you haven't received these already) 💖

7. A popular fandom opinion that you agree with

16. One of your favourite tropes 

18. Something you initially did not like but came around to

Hello, hello! :D AH Thank you for being here!! And for these lovely questions.

Fandom Positivity asks from this game here.

7. A popular fandom opinion that you agree with.

Let's talk about something that, in some circles, may not be actually a popular opinion LOL because like, in the tag, some people certainly have problems with this situation. BUT. But. Art has always pulled forward things like this.

Let's talk about

✨Messy People Being Messy People ✨

Or, nuance in reading characters in TES.

I am not a fan of hard good vs evil in reads of media so when I see a large section of a fandom discussing nuance, my little heart is just so happy. It's because as a writer, I find the best kinds of heroes are often the ones that make all kinds of terrible mistakes and have to resolve them. And the best kinds of villains are the ones who are doing what they're doing because it is, to them, the only way forward.

Not everything has to be cut and dry, right? And I think TES does a fantastic job in a lot of ways throughout the series of showing that kind of nuance.

Just for an example...hmm. Yes, okay! Morrowind gives us Divayth Fyr. He's QUESTIONABLE on a good day, but how many good days are there really in Morrowind? Not many. Not many at all tbh. He helps the main character, sure, but there is just so much fucked up shit happening in that tower and in House Telvanni to begin with. So nuance. Nuance. And the fact that not everything has to be surface level.

Depth of character is important, both in the source material and in what we, as fanfiction writers, bring to the table in our own work. How do we show these mistakes? How do we redeem characters who need it? How does one come back from certain kinds of mistakes? Can they ever? Why or why not?

I think there's a certain kind of catharsis in analyzing text in this fashion and/or reading more deeply and so...people who are as in love with the nuance of TES's characters and worldbuilding as I am are always welcome here.

16. One of your favourite tropes.

ooooh. I love this question! Mostly because tropes can be such good tools! Hmm. It's difficult to pin down one favorite. But I think...

Yes let me ramble on about @paraparadigm's Always Read the Fine Print for two tropes I quite enjoy her hot take on.

The first is Modern Girl In Skyrim / Isekai. I haven't really dove into the deep end of the trope, but the way Para has accomplished worldbuilding for Vera on TWO SIDES is fucking phenomenal. I am as invested in Vee's difficulties in Tamriel as I am in her past, her version of earth and the absolute t r a g e d y it was. Like. I don't want to give away any spoilers but holy hell, was it amazing. I'm rereading it now for the past timelines for ~clues~ in her sequel.

Next is Enemies to Friends to Lovers. This is specifically interesting to me because I don't usually see all three stages in full, or that slow change from each stage. And as it carries into GS, the nature of their relationship is just so fricken nuanced (that word again lol) and I just. I love reading it. I loved to see the entire progression so far. I can't say it enough.

18. Something you initially did not like but came around to.

Something, or someone?

Ulfric Stormcloak was one of my least favorite characters in Skyrim LOL. I think part of it was just the whole situation in Windhelm. The entire situation. He's supposed to be running the place and from the get go we get hella BS, we get a murder mystery with a serial killer on the loose and the guards just...what are they doing?? We get racisms said guards look away from, we get dilapidated slums in which they store actual people out of sight out of mind, and Ulfric is spending all the coin for ... a war? When his people are very clearly suffering? (Granted I do understand some of his point about the war. But the entire situation with the civil war is fucked tbh.)

That is but one read of this man, tbh. And I do, also, write him as a villain in World.

But you know who doesn't? And who shows a whole other facet to this particular character? @thequeenofthewinter. Oh here we go with more nuance :> I love it, I love it. Let me, for a second, plug her fic By the Light of the Moon, which is some of the first exposure I had to her work outside of WIP posts!

Here's a bit I loved about this piece:

If the Jarl is honest with himself, he has been awake more than he would like to be at this strange, in-between hour, and he has grown to both love and loathe its coming and going. On one hand, it is quiet, and it brings with it a type of clarity which helps him conduct his responsibilities in peace, away from the daily bother of the far too fast-paced cadence of his life. And on the other, well, he is tired, both physically and mentally. But this is his job. This is his duty. This is what is required of him in order to keep the people of the land he loves so fervently happy. He puts them and their needs first. His needs are always second because there is no time for Ulfric Stormcloak to be happy. It is very rarely that he indulges himself in thinking about his own happiness. I don’t deserve it, so why would I dare to dream? These types of wishes are for those who have more time on their hands and much less responsibility. When have I ever been allowed to be happy? He turns his head to look at the sleeping form behind him. If there was one thing— Ulfric shakes his head, chasing away the thought as he swirls a glass whiskey and drains it. He has no time for these types of thoughts right now. He has work to do. He turns back to the paperwork on his desk, watching the dark ink of his quill moving fluidly over the parchment he is currently looking over, a request for more supplies to be sent to the Snow Quarter. Ulfric sighs.

I just really love seeing the way things drift through this man's head. I love to see the anxiety. I love this sort of valor, of wanting to do better but already doing the best he can. It's so different from the main source material. But it's also possible. It's also possible. And that's the sort of nuance I do love, that he can be read in so many different ways. I used to dislike him. Hate him even for a myriad reasons. But now I find him relatively sad, except when I read Winter's work. Then I love him lol.

[xzacloudx]

All of this! I also love @marketableplushieenthusiast 's additions in the Replies section:

These both so well explain why Spamton is so popular, & why so many of us (myself included) are so passionately attached to him.

(And I have more of my own to add! Long post ahoy!)

Also, he & his setting can fit so many aesthetics: 80s-90s nostalgia/vaporwave, early Internet, the Matrix, cyberpunk, romanticized celebrity glamor, sharp businessman, creepypasta, trippy existential horror, analog horror, hacker/cyber thriller, even giant monster/Kaiju!

Plus there's unknown but potential personality traits he might've had at points in his life, which are so fun to fill in the blanks with: maybe as a regular Addison/the email guy, he was a shy dork with a stutter, or always was sleazy & spoke how he does now.

As a big shot, maybe he was an insufferably smug asshole, or maybe insecure & constantly stressed out because he already KNEW he could lose everything at any moment, or he was smoothly confident with a powerful aura (in a way that many find sexy).

Then there's all the "what-if" scenarios his many experiences & life phases inspire. What if he reconciled with the Addisons? What if he joined the party instead of becoming an item? What if in the NEO body he became way more giant, escaped the mansion, & ran rampant? What would he be like if his corruption could be cured? What if he COULD become real?

Between all the many already compelling things Spamton embodies in canon, are so many spaces we long to fill in. And his many aesthetics are a great takeoff point to apply him to so many visuals & concepts we find comforting or interesting.

And he's a character full of so much wistfulness & longing, nearly all his life. And as we got to know him, we also long on his behalf, for him to succeed in his goals, for his life to get better, for him to finally be happy... This creates deep emotional investment in his character, & compels us to both internalize & externalize his struggles & triumphs.

And all that means: Spamton inspires our imagination & creativity. He's the perfect subject for such a wide variety of media depictions; fanart, fanfiction, comics, animations, songs, & memes.

And because he's that unique blend of tragic, creepy, emotionally unstable, powerful, powerless, & cartoonishly silly, as well as varying in appearance/size/proportions throughout the game... Pretty much ANYONE of ANY talent level can comfortably draw him! (Though that is the case with ANY character of course, with Spamton it's easier to realize that, & feel less afraid of judgment about using the "wrong" style or supposedly not doing the character justice). A quick silly little meme scribble or image edit from a non-artist, a neutral piece by a mid-level artist who's still (in general) inconsistent with detail levels & doesn't get proportions right yet, & an epic hyper-detailed masterpiece... all featuring Spamton... can all stand together & be just as thoroughly enjoyed in different ways but to similar degrees. Because Spamton naturally fits ALL those styles & everything in-between!

He's just... one of the most approachable art subjects I've ever seen, & many other artists have expressed the same. So he INSPIRES & ENCOURAGES us to just get in there & DRAW HIM, so we get more practice. And by doing so with less (perceived) pressure, we feel more free to experiment with various styles, expanding our abilities. Thus, we become better artists in general! And that quality of his has even gotten people to finally try drawing/painting for the first time, & I've witnessed several of them improve to SERIOUSLY GOOD at a WILD rate! (🥹 I'm so proud of you peeps out there!)

And in terms of storytelling, getting to realize that a single fictional character can have SO much depth & variety has also inspired people to write deeper stories with more complex characters, rather than assuming they should each be constrained to single archetypes.

Bittersweetly, over time, many creators have taken off the Spamton fandom training wheels, & are now riding their bikes on exciting new trails (making art for different fandoms), & even off-roading in their own directions (focusing on original art & characters). But I'm sure they'll never forget the [insert adjective here] character who gave them the confidence & skill increase that's helping them more fully embrace their passions. 🥹

Spamton is a gift that keeps on giving. He not only entertains us passively, but also begs to be actively brought to life by our creativity. And in return, he enriches our lives in so many ways, & has expanded people's abilities & horizons. Spamton has changed many lives for the better!

((Gah! I was only gonna add a couple little lines, but I couldn't stop thinking of reasons Spamton is so compelling! X333))

sometimes i feel like toby fox made spamton and the addisons especially for people to hyperfixate on. everything about them seems so perfect for people to go rabid about its insane to me

for one, spamton himself pretty much counts for 4 people, those being addispam, big shot spamton, in game spamton, and spamton neo. now sure you mostly see people going rabid about in game spamton but ive seen plenty of people who are obsessed with a version we dont get to see on screen

secondly, even the main in game spamton himself is kinda up to interpretation. loads of people characterise him differently. if i compared two aus to eachother theyd often be very different and depending on the ones i chose could be almost like 2 different people, and then if i compared those to in-game spamton, theyd still be very different. also since you dont see addispam and big shot spamton on screen you dont even know what they acted like so again basically you can make your own guy to fixate on with a few prompts as to what he was like

dont even get me started on the addisons. now im biased as fuck here seeing that ive been fixated on the addisons for like 6 months now (send help) but toby fox basically gave us 4 templates for us to have fun with. sure based off of in game dialogue you have a bit to go off of when it comes to their personality (pink being an asshole and blue being caring for example) but even then every addison in every different au is slightly different and i have never seen two addisons turn out exactly the same. ALSO you dont even know the relationship these characters have to spamton meaning you can have them be siblings, you can have them be friends, or you can ship them based off of what you enjoy. OR you could just ignore them altogether (which a lot of people do lmao)

also another thing is the fact that you dont necessarily need to have your addisons' personalities just reflect off of spamtons. I mean the main 4 addisons give you enough to go off of to make your own, and you are given cyber city, an entire fantasy world for you to put them in. cyber city again is up to interpretation, some people have it be like a normal city, some people make it a utopia, some people make it a hellscape. the choice is yours!!

and even then in game spamton is so versatile. he is perfect for angsty stuff, fluffy stuff, or jsut silly stuff, and none of it is out of character. you couldnt really make an angsty spongebob edit could you, itd be weird and out of characer and no one would take it seriously. but also you couldnt make a silly walten files video, sure people do but its out of character and wouldnt actually happen canonically. but spamton on the other hand. hes the kinda guy who you can draw holding a wallet in his mouth like a cat and generally being silly but also you could draw him sobbing at the bottom of dumpster and neither would be out of character!! AAAA

also extra thing i thought id add but his backstory is also very up to interpretation, like i dont think ive ever seen two people who think spamtons rise and downfall went exactly the same. sure everyone has the same general idea of how it went but some people believe in acid theory, some people believe in puppetification theory, some people have a mix of both, some people have their own idea of how it went down, and with that you can project different parts of your own trauma onto whatever happened to him.

ok sorry that was so long thank you for reading my very biased ramble about why spamton is perfect byeeee

[iunctura-arch]

@ancicntforged:

lilia, what can i really say? I can't remember when the fuck we've met, but I do remember that you've been a constant presence on the dash I always like to see. despite struggles, you always have a good outlook in live and your art is fantastic as well, which is why I always look forward to commissioning you when i can in terms of muses, hwoa nelly you have a lot of them, but my favorite among them definitely are melanie and sasha. sasha is a bias, because i'm a dragon ball nerd, but mel is fantastic too. from her story, to the fc and the many conenctions she has, i love it all. you've put it all together in an unique and enticing manner i hope that 2024 will be a good year for you both IRL and on tumblr

Joy mah Boi! Always glad to see you on the dash too, even if it's silly nonsense like Ruby blowing up the moon on a semi-normal basis or whatever threads you're doing with others! I think we met a few years ago? Honestly, until a certain point, you were always... idk, intimidating to me. WEIRD, I KNOW!!! But given my past of being abused by online rpers (twice. for years. Get rid of one, here comes another that same year a few months apart!), I feel intimidated by everyone but I'm slowly starting to ease up on that thanks to the fact that everyone's been so kind and accommodating. Like, none of y'all pressure me to fill in plot holes, expect me to go by what you want alone and not actually contribute anything besides your own damn plotline (basically making me write half of your fanfiction), ect...

Like I'm finally healing but at what cost.

MY ART IS LEVELLING UP THIS YEAR!! That I can tell you for sure. I'm going to be doing so much art this year it'll be uncanny. Creative burnout who? (yes I'm dealing with burnout atm but pushing through it!) I HOPE THAT I CAN GIVE YOU A WORTHWHILE COMMISSION IN THE FUTUREEEE

I think it's about 100 or so now, not counting the ones I haven't brought to Tumblr and keep to Discord/the fact I can probably RP anyone as long as I've seen the series. If I did that, I'd have well over 200 and then some!!! I love Sasha, really. She's neat to RP as. A very well-mannered Destruction God who just likes food because her predecessor gave her a good reason to! Oh god, Melanie has come so far from just being an "alternate version" of Rani (who was the original Melanie before I changed her name, fun fact!) because I was knee-deep in Symphogear. I love how, with @stalwartembers' and my partner's help, she basically became the Melanie we all know and love today. The best version of herself. And it all started as a "what if she got Gungnir instead of Hibiki" thought.

It's not going too great right now (but then again it's the end of the first month and a lot has changed due to death in the household, which is why I did a doodle donation stream and will probably be asking for help going forward), but I hope it gets better. Can only go up from here, right?

I hope this year gives you the best times of your life.

[olderthannetfic]

It’s time for me to be honest. (Btw this has nothing to do with language haha!) I am one of those ‘He’s mine!!’ fans that so often get slagged off. I guess the only difference is that I keep my mouth tightly shut and don’t publicly say such things.

I’d just like to explain my point of view and how I got there, even though my story is not at all representative of the ‘He’s mine’ crowd.

I’ve been a fictosexual since before puberty. I’ve had 3 great loves in my life, two during high school which both lasted a couple of years, then nothing in my 20s as it was the shit period of my life unlike what Instagram would have you believe, and now that things are settled down again and I’m an old lady in my early thirties, I’ve found the (fictional) love of my life and it’s been four intense years. Unfortunately, a long time after I fell hard for him it turned out he was a lot younger than me (though not underage) lol so that makes things…interesting and sometimes very spicy.

So here’s what I want to try and explain even though it doesn’t often make sense to myself either. People often look at those who ‘simp’ for fictional characters as it being like a temporary or silly crush. And for many it is. I’ve seen many, many mostly female fans obsess and post about my ‘partner’ (that’s what I’ll call him from now on) for months and then abruptly stop or get bored when a new show or media comes along. This is not it for me. I hate the term simp. While yes, humourously I’ll ‘simp’ or make horny posts about my partner, the feelings I have are just as intense, if not more intense, than I’d have for a real person. I’ve only met one other person, irl or online, who shares the same commitment and intensity of feeling for a fictional character. And before you start imagining me with some sort of merch shrine and a tacky body pillow which I take on dates or talk to or whatever, I hate to disappoint you but I’m not a ‘waifuist’ in that sense. The only merch I own are a Funkopop and a t-shirt.

When I met this character, I felt understood. I felt a deep and intense connection to his life experiences which in many ways mirrored my own and felt I instinctively understood his emotions, goals, thought processes etc. Many people think that this is the same as a celebrity crush. It’s not. We don’t get to know celebrities on a deep level. But for fictional characters we often do. We get to see how they feel, what they think, their opinions on things. We see them in their darkest and lowest moments, their most vulnerable and to me my partner became a real person in my mind, and no, not in a schizophrenic or ‘something not right with me neurologically’ type of way. I don’t hear his voice or hallucinate him there. It’s hard to explain. It’s just, to my mind he is real.

So, to me he is the love of my life. Imagine seeing your spouse or significant other romantically involved with another person. It fucking hurts. This is what I feel when I see people ship my partner with themselves or their OC. I feel like I have been betrayed and cheated on. It literally hurts in my chest and I have cried after seeing this type of fanart before. I also ship him with an OC that is not actually a direct self-insert and differs from me in several major ways. And I write fanfic. A lot of very smutty fanfic, but ironically only xReader type which has been very, very well received. In fact, I’d say I’ve written the most m/f smut for this character and have gained a modest but loyal readership. The thing I often get told is how much people love getting lost in my stories and how intimately connected they feel to him when they read my reader insert fics and how intense and emotional it gets. I don’t know why, but when people comment on my fanfics that it makes them fall in love with my partner even more I feel happy and proud that I could write something like that. In any other context it breaks my heart.

I never tell people, either in my fanfiction life or my canonxoc fanart life, that I am personally in love and attached to this man because I don’t want to be one of those people that seem to get so much eye roll and hate. I don’t want to come across as possessive and start drama. But in my mind, he is only mine. He is the thing that makes me most happy in the world, that got me out of depression and suicidality when I was unwell and going through chronic illness. And still keeps me going. I understand him and he understands me like nobody else. He is literally the embodiment of my perfect man.

And before anyone says I need to go outside and touch grass or get professional help…I am a well adjusted member of society. I have a complex job, a dog, own my own place, I visit my family and have a great group of friends. I am not sitting miserable and weird and alone in my dark room obsessively scrolling.

But please try to understand, for some of us, a very serious minority, this is real. The feelings we have are just like the feelings you would have for a real person. This isn’t a disorder and we don’t need ‘help’. It’s just our objects of affection are different to yours. And unfortunately, we have to share our soulmates with hundreds and thousands of others. This is why I can’t really participate in my fandom either, because I can’t keep seeing bad takes on him and seeing him shipped with others. But it’s ok. I’m happy in my world of smutty fanfic and fanart.

--

People elsewhere will judge because they think you should love a real person instead. Plenty of people around here can understand this depth of feeling for a fictional character just fine. It's the lack of ability to share that sets you apart.

[fandomsandfeminism]

Why so some people join hate groups like JK Rowling? I have heard some people get radicalized when they google things and click the wrong website or because of youtube algoriths

I'm no expert on how radicalization happens. What it seems like though from what I have read is that you have people that are coming from a deep sense of frustration or anxiety about something in the world. They stumble upon arguments that seem... reasonable (they see a blog post or a YouTube video that says just the right things with just the right dog whistles), and it validates those feelings of frustration or anxiety. But they can lead to more and more intense arguments that spiral into bigotry and fear mongering. But because those arguments ramp up bit by bit, and each step still validates the underlying frustration and anxiety, people can just keep going until the hooks are in so deep that it's very hard to back track. People struggle to admit they have been wrong- that's ALL of us, and it's a known psychological hurdle. Even when shown clear contrary evidence, people's brains will dig in deeper a lot of the time.

What we know is that JKR seems to have started out with a pretty standard level of societal bias (her books have enough uncomfortable race and body image and even gender things to see that), but nothing wild. We also know that she has experienced a good about of misogyny and she talks about some kind of abuse in her now infamous blog post. Those feelings- her frustration and anxiety about gender inequality especially- seems to have led her first to some basic feminist ideas, but then into subtle radical feminist talking points, and then deeper and deeper until we have reached what we see today- transphobic and homophobic reactionary nonsense. And whenever she faced backlash for parroting the newest talking point she learned, she dug in deeper, these bigoted ideals feeding off her frustration and anxiety that the public backlash was making her feel. But when she says those talking points to the "right people" she would get praise and validation.

Its...

It's really sad.

Like I've said in other posts, harry Potter, with all its flaws, was a really important series to me from about age 10 to age 25. That's half my life and a lot of my formative years. It got me into fanfiction, made me want to be a writer, made me love analyzing and speculating about fiction. I'll always have a soft spot for it because of that.

And JKR *could* have stayed beloved and even grown more beloved if she had followed a different path, a different set of thinking and arguments that took her to a place of working to help *all* people, instead of where she is now. I can't imagine she is happy. I can't imagine she realizes how much this has hurt so many of her former fans.

Becoming radicalized isn't a sign that someone is a fundamentally monsterous person. They are a person who has been led into a dark place, following their negative emotions, unable to question themselves or be willing to admit they were wrong. People can be deradicalized, and I hope that as many people as possible who are in these extreme transphobic mindsets DO deradicalize.

[askshivanulegacy]

Ok, so ... you have that same position for fanart, right?

Do you buy fanart? Do you commission your favorite fandom pairing? Do you support the Patreon or Ko-fis of fanartists? Do you go to Artist Alleys at conventions and comic cons for art prints? Do you buy homemade plushies of fandom characters? Do you buy fandom clothing, jewelry, or costume pieces made by independent artists?

If you answered yes to any of these then fanfiction can and should also be sold.

Fanfiction is not different than any other fan craft. It is no more illegal than any other fan craft that almost everyone here is definitely supporting.

If fanartists can sell their works online or in person, if they can have tip jars for people to express appreciation, then so can fanauthors.

But if you're going to maintain the position that you can't offer tips to fanauthors and you can't let fanauthors sell printed copies of their own works, then STOP supporting all fanartists right now.

Stop going to conventions and buying prints. Stop buying homemade plushies. Stop buying homemade jewelry and clothing and costumes if it has anything to do with an existing IP.

Let Artist's Alley collapse.

Do you see how hypocritical this is?

You can either have both, or none at all. That fanfiction somehow deserves less support than other crafts directly leads to the impression that it's the lesser art form. A03's practices of denying support for authors contributes to this.

I'm not saying that A03 doesn't do good work, but it is NOT all sunshine and roses (they recently advocated for AI, btw). There are negative consequences ... like the fact that so many people visit A03 but you're all only out there reblogging pictures and not stories.

The fact that not one single fanfic advocate is pointing out this discrepancy between fanfic and fanart sends the message that writing is not real art. It's a continuation of the deep belief that fanfic and fanauthors don't deserve your support, your reblogs, your comments, or your sharing of their works because written words aren't as good as visual art. I wonder why fanfic authors are out there crying about not getting recognition?

This is part of why they don't.

Selling fanfic is not more dangerous than selling fanart. It's the same inherent risk. Why aren't any of you pointing it out? Why aren't any of you advocating for some kind of positive change that allows support of fanfiction, instead of stonewalling every single attempt to elevate fanfiction to the level of fanart, as it deserves?

This is a problem. The position that "no one can sell fanfic" (false), is not a good position, and it needs to be called out. More of you need to be saying, "wow, it's too bad that it's so hard to sell physical copies of my fanfic," not "thou shalt never sell fanfic ever."

If fanfiction can only exist if it's free, then fanart can only exist if it's free, and we know the latter just isn't true.

I'm all for keeping fanfic and fanart free for viewing and reading online. At no point should any of this ever be gatekept behind some paywall - I'm looking at you, Patreon artists with your fanart how-tos and nsfw fanart locked away behind pay schemes. But tip jars if you liked something? Yes. Physical copies that you can either order or buy in person? Yes. Commissions of something specific that isn't already made? Yes!

Is the environment perfect for selling fanfiction? No, of course not and I don't say that it is. But we should be trying to get there. At the very least, we should be TALKING ABOUT IT, not running scared because you "can't" (you CAN). You cannot answer to me that "it's illegal" if you support any other kind of fan craft.

THAT'S the real misinformation - that no one acknowledges authors should be able to sell their works too because it is not different.

Authors should be able to set up an Artist's Alley table and sell printed copies of their work. They should be able to have tip jars.

Btw, if you're an author who wants a tip jar, you can go create one RIGHT NOW - just link your A03 to an intermediate hub like tumblr or instagram. You can offer your bound copies there too, if that's something you want to do.

I am never not going to keep pointing this out. All I ever see is this one, stale tune and nobody trying to do better. And look, if you never support fan stuffs ever because it's "illegal" then all the power to you, and this essay isn't for you.

This essay is for the hypocrites who support visual art but not written words. I see you and I'm calling the bluff. I demand better for our writers, and I'm not afraid of saying so. Your position devalues fanfiction and puts authors at a disadvantage. It says "we'll pay artists because they deserve something for what they do, but you authors better keep cranking out those words for me." You should be working create better environments for writers.

STOP SELLING BOUND FANFICTION

I cannot blame them for pulling their works, in fact I'm proud of them for doing so. Fanfiction is a community of gifting. As authors we write fics and share our works for free. Fanfiction is a weird, fragile, liminal space that can crumble at any time. This fragility needs to be respected.

If you want fanfiction to be around for you to enjoy, then the rules need to be respected!

You can bind fics. You can gift bound fics. DO NOT SELL BOUND FICS!!

Or soon we won't have fanfiction anymore and the world will be much darker for it.

[asfeline]

Not Youɾ Midnight Love (pɑɾt 1)

INFO

⇴ This will be a multiple part fanfiction, I don't know how many lol, all parts will be linked at the end everytime they'll be posted.

⇴ Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

⇴ There will be smut.

⇴ Credit : spicycrabs on Twitter

⇴ Hope you enjoy ♥︎

SHORT SYNOPSIS

Now living alone in a not so great building, and neighbour to a interesting young man, you discover the struggles of living on your own since you left your family house. Struggles? Well, let's say your new and independant life will maybe be a little bit more entertaining with the help of your neighbour.

Again, the loud thumb of the next-door apartment. He was home late, as usual. Definitely as the sounds indicate, not alone, as usual. Moving here, was surely a mistake, but the ad was too tempting not to jump on the opportunity. You could still remember your mother's face on the front doorstep. She had turned to you, her lips pursed, and her piercing gaze directed right into you. Her breath announced the reprimand. You wanted to laugh so badly, but all of your soul told you not to that day.

"And to think we're going to let you live alone, here, look..." she began, pointing to the depraved building that would serve as your home for the next three years. "You sign a lease, without flinching. You sign a lease, over the phone! Without question! Sometimes I wonder how we got you to this level of stupidity. And to think that we offered you good education…". She finished, picking the last box of the car, and with a nonchalant pace went towards your apartment.

You raised your eyebrows. Well, she wasn't wrong. You hadn't been paying much attention, but deep down you weren't sure you had that many regrets. You wanted so much leaving the family house since, well since forever, that ending up here wouldn’t be that bad.

You followed her, slowly in the staircases positioned outside the building. The metal stairs leaned a little to the right. Your hand automatically positioned itself on the railing as if in fear that they would give way. Heights had never been your forte. You could feel your phone slip out of your pocket and within seconds you found yourself collapsed on the steps to catch it in time. But not fast enough to get up before large black Converse were positioned next to you. Great. How to meet new neighbours in a total normal way. Your gaze slowly climbed from the Converse to the holey jeans, to the half-open black shirt, leaving a silver chain shining in the sunlight, which hid the young man's face from you. The only discernment you could make was clearly the bright silver hair, pulled up with a hairclip. Oh, he was smiling.

“Something funny?” you asked, maybe with a little too obnoxious tone. You had to be careful. A good introduction was important, especially if you were going to be here for a long time. The hairclip guy went up and stopped at the same level as your appartement, as you could see his shoes keep walking at your eyes level. He looked back at you and continue on his way before passing your mother and saying a few words. She exclaimed and waved in all directions and the bleached-haired delinquent took the box from her hands. She opened the door and let him in, as casually as it was her home.

“What the hell?”, you said loudly before sliding your phone into your pocket, this time secured and rushing towards your home. That day you met Gojo Satoru, a noisy neighbour, someone you thought was clearly too unbearable to stay with.

The music, coming through your excessively thin walls, was shaking the shelf you had just hung last week. You raised an eyebrow and put your cup on your little table. You tilted your head to the right.

"I never thought he was the kind of guy who listened to ABBA," you said softly, moving your head rhythmically. “At least, he has good taste”.

You could hear him on the other side singing loudly, with a high pitch at the end of every chorus. You hadn't had time to buy a sound system yet, the music wasn't unpleasant, so you couldn't help moving to the beat. You stood up with your glass in hand and started to dance while picking up the last remaining boxes next to the sofa.

♫ “Take a chance on me That's all I ask of you, honey Take a chance on me

We can go DaaannciiinG” ♫

He was singing on the other side, laughing at the same time.

♫ “We can go walking” ♫ you continued on your side.

♫ “As long as we're together

Listen to some MuuuusiC” ♫

Damn that was the highest note he reached.

♫ “Maybe just talking Get to know you better” ♫

You participated, now really into the song.

At the end of the phrase, you could hear some applause and giggles of a feminine voice. The music turned down a little bit and you could hear them, inaudibly, talking. Ah, true, he wasn’t alone in the first place. The walls weren’t shaking anymore, and you weren’t in the mood to continue dancing.

♫ “Afraid of a love affair, but I think you know That I can't let go

If you change your mind I'm the first in line” ♫ you couldn’t help to finish.

The boxes could wait another day anyway. You got up, took your phone and check the notifications. Messages from your family chat group. Since your dad learned how to use a phone and the apps, he was non-stop on it, making sure you were doing everything alright over here.

“Appartement clean?”

“Your mother say hello”

“Did your school start yet?”

“Your mother says to be careful; winter is quite heavy in your town. She checked on the weather app of her phone”.

She could use her phone instead of telling him everything, you sighed.

You send a thumb emoji, before closing the discussion. You looked outside; it was indeed snowing.

“Snowing, fuck”.

You pulled a large scarf around you and opened the front door to get your shoes that were left outside. At the same time, Gojo's girlfriend for the evening came out. Ah, she doesn't stay as long as the previous ones.

“Hi” you muffled, in your scarf, taking the first boot in your hand, turning it upside down to let the snow, that already accumulated at the bottom, out. The girl tilted her head, smiled at you before saying a light "Good evening" and leaving by the stairs before disappearing into the night.

You let the wind strike your face without a sound. Damn, it was cold outside.

The next-door opened in a rush, startling you. It took him two seconds to be next to you, squatting, and collecting the snow you just took off of your boots. You looked at him with an interrogating face.

“What? Aren’t we making a snowman?” he asked, forming a small ball in his hands.

“A what?... What?”. You replied confused.

You peeked at him. He has just made in a few seconds a perfect round snowball and put two little rocks as eyes and put it next to his face, displaying it to you, so proudly. His smile was that kind of smile. You stoop up and opened your door, letting the cold air going in.

“He doesn’t have a body!” he exclaimed, seeing you leave.

You laughed.

“You have good taste in music” ignoring his cute childish behavior.

“Oh, oh.” He hummed, rubbing his hands together quickly to let the snow fall. “So, you’re the kind to listen to the walls”.

“Don’t say it like that”, you exclaimed pointing him.

More and more cold wind was slipping through your door.

“I didn’t imply anything”.

Oh, but you did.

“Well, next time let me know what kind of music you listen to. We could vibe together. Wall to wall”, he finished before entering his apartment.

Why did he come out? He didn’t do anything besides… Why were you outside in the first place? You couldn’t remember. You entered quickly inside, the apartment now completely cold, the heating bill was going to be spicy this week. You closed the door, leaving your boots outside, snow filling them again.

Continue?

Part 2 here.

[bonnymori]

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

Word count: 1200+

Contents/Warnings: (1) Fushiguro Megumi x gn!Reader (2) Classic training but no fighting scene I apologise (3) A... dirty humor joke? (4) Idiot in love cough cough (5) Laidback romance, this may become a pattern on my fanfiction :3

A/N: Hello, I introduce myself as Hara! This is my very first written piece! I would like to apologise for any typos, english is not my first language; that being said, I hope this works out alright! :)

It's around mid afternoon, the sky painted in a vibrant blue with multiple clouds scattered around, Fushiguro recalls having started training right after lunch; he politely declined Maki's suggestion of training together, it wasn't about strength or fighting hand to hand today, the struggle was his shikigami. Lately, he's been having problems over teamwork - before, he thought such a thing was impossible, since all of the shikigami were under one will alone, being his. Yet the amount of times the divine dogs have bumped into eachothers, sometimes Nue would simply skip past the target, not paying attention to it at all.

Or perhaps, he himself was to blame. Fushiguro likes thinking about you, more than he'd admit, but now it's starting to distract for real. That's what he need, to think of you- I mean, concentration! And maybe, new group attacks, that would do nicely, too.

He's been beating a tedious dummy for a hour and half now, maybe more. After managing to make up a combo or two, he sits down on the grass, just to breathe for a moment. Breathing is nice, he observes as the divine dogs go slack like their owner, now playing around with one another rather than chewing the dummies stuffing. His black and white snake is watching the banter between the canine shikigamis, tongue coming in and out just like a real snake. Nue settles upon the dummies ragged body, eyes closed- peacefully enjoying sunbathing. Fushiguro had no idea they were so lively until now, now he knew why people constantly asked if they could pet his shikigami.

He glances down at the frog supporting his arm, it's like they enjoy just laying on grass, just breathing like him.

"How many buddies out! Are you training today, Fushiguro?"

At the sound of your voice, you bet his lips casually turn upwars in a casual yet small smile. Kugisaki saw it from distance once, says she it's almost a robotic response.

"Yes, I'm training their cooperation." Fushiguro replies, swiftly getting up. He notices the frog from earlier making a beeline to you, as if to say hello.

So you crouch down and pets it briefly, smiling at the small creature.

"That ought to be hard, specially with a innefective dummy." You approach its remains, chuckling at all the stuffing and cloth scattered around. "Make me your target instead!"

Say what?

"I uh, come again?"

"I'll do the running and dodging, it's much practical this way!"

He has trouble accepting that, even if it's true. You mean more than an ally on his heart, and besides, that's some Itadori-level-recklessy. So he groans, slightly irritated and obviously, worried for your safety. "You'll get hurt."

"Don't we get hurt everyday? Even if there is an accident, I know you'll call them out and help me quickly, you notice things fast."

He does, Fushiguro would help you in a heartbeat- probably faster.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, lash out on me!"

Putting 'lash' and 'me' in the same phrase got heat rising on his ears, but he complied nonetheless. "Just letting you know, I'll stand here and the shikigami attacks."

You protest. "Wouldn't it be better if you fought among them?"

"For today, I'd like to focus on their compatibility only."

"Oh, got it! Next time we can work on the latter option then!" Next time. He wants there to be a next time.

Even though you're the one troubling his mind in battles, he's head over heels. He remembers when it all started, your relationship is basically pools worth of quality time. You came along with Itadori, tangled into the mess back in Sendai. Strangely, Fushiguro clicked with you even faster than Itadori- your collected personality was a great factor, even though you are just as cheerful as the cherry boy.

"You're spacing out, what's up?"

Fushiguro's gaze snapped up to meet yours, realizing his mistake. "Ah, nothing, let's start." His hands folded as your guard rose, so it begun. If you noticed his lame excuse, you didn't comment about it.

The ravenette was pleasantly relieved how easily you could deceive and dodge his attacks, his shikigami may leave a tear or two on your clothes, that he didn't have to worry about, because they're easily fixable. Naturally, the toughest for you to dodge was mostly his snake, sometimes Nue would surprise you from above, nothing you couldn't handle. He started intensing up using the combined attacks, and immediately noticed your faltering steps, earning a bruise on your calf. Although neither he or you stopped, adrenaline rushing through veins nonstop.

You somehow finished training with a bite mark over your forehead, not deep enough to be worth worry. The instant your bodies came to slack, his shikigami ran to you like little children lost in a supermarket. At this point, it was pratically multitasking, to pet both demon dogs while trying not to run out of breath having Orochi wrapped around your midsection. Megumi flushed over the affectionate antics, knowing they were a manifestation of feelings within himself.

Now, you and Fushiguro are spawled on the training field, neither showered, coated with sweat sticking to your clothes, but it didn't matter much.

"I never realized, just how many cursed energy do you have? It's surprising how many shikigami you kept our for this long time." Fushiguro heard you shifting to sit up, and followed you up.

"A bunch." It was not a creative nor informative answer, but you took it in with a smile on your face anyway.

He watched you get up to fetch a drink, careful to not trip over the shikigami also scattered around -- Fushiguro always 'forgot' to put them away next to you.

You handed him a strawberry yogurt box, the same drink also sat in your hands. "Well then, why are you spacing out so much these days? You can be honest with me."

'She's oblivious enough, I'm in need of advice, it's convenient.' So he thought, figuring if he disguised it enough, you wouldn't be able to tell. It's not a big deal if you did, though, saves time actually.

"Something's on my mind, and it troubles me during fights."

"Simple, you can just come in terms with it."

He glanced down, "Why?"

"The sooner the better, when you accept something, it comes at ease on your mind. I'm a hundred percent sure it works!" You gave him a thumbsup, slurping on the pink drink.

"Such faithful source."

"I'm sure it does! The thought keeps coming back because you're denying it, am I wrong?"

Not really, no. Fushiguro wants to keep it as friendship for the sake of your both careers within the jujutsu world; he knows it's dangerous, yet a part of him just wants to say 'fuck it', like if he had the guts to. The ravenette thinks it's a way too much generic way to describe what he feels, but it's the easiest, so he goes with it anyway. The back of his brain fears rejection, part of the reason why he hasn't made a move yet.

"I'll try it out."

"Good!" And you're always supportive no matter what, to the point it charms him more and more everyday.

For now, he's okay keeping it platonic. But, when the day after tomorrow comes, he just might confess.

[q-gorgeous]

Ghost Farm

fanfiction

ao3

The GIW need ghost samples to conduct experiments. Why capture ghosts when you can make your own? prompt by @mystyrust

word count: 2609

warning: offscreen character death

gosh this prompt

Danny yawned as he walked into the school. He walked up to Sam and Tucker and was just about to greet them when heard Paulina sobbing into Dash’s chest by her locker.

“Woah.” He said. “What’s happening?”

“Star’s still missing.” Sam whispered.

“It’s been a week since her parents filed that report and no one’s seen any sign of her since then.” Tucker looked at his PDA. “No one has anything new to report online. I think it's starting to really wear on Paulina.”

“Maybe when we patrol later we should check up on some other places rather than just the ghost hot spots.” Danny said, looking back at Paulina. “Maybe we’ll be able to find something while we’re out.”

“Maybe.” Sam said. The first bell rang and they started heading to class. “But if we’re being realistic, a week is a long time with this kind of thing. She could be long gone out of Amity Park by now. Or, you know.” She whispered that last part.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try looking around though.”

The three of them walked into Lancer’s class. The empty desk next to Paulina felt like it took up the entire room and many of their classmates were trying not to look at it. The final bell rang and Mr. Lancer turned from where he was writing on the board. 

“Alright, class.” He said somberly. “Let’s get started.”

QQQQQ

“We’re having no luck down here, Danny. What about you?” Tucker called through the Fenton phones. 

Danny flew past the arcade and an ice cream shop and stopped, floating in front of an alley. “Nothing here. I think we can call it for-”

Danny’s head whipped towards the sound of trash cans crashing around. He floated into the alley slowly, looking around. When he came out the other end there was no one there. 

“Are you okay, Danny?”

He turned back around. “Yeah, I think some cat was getting into one of the garbage cans over here or something.” He flew back out of the alley.

“Okay, well then-”

Danny stopped listening to her when he saw something laying on the ground. He touched down on the concrete and bent over to pick up a pink clip.

“Hey Sam.” Danny asked. “Dash and Kwan were talking about taking Paulina for ice cream, right?”

“Yeah?” She said, confused. “Why?”

“I found Paulina’s hair clip on the ground.”

A heavy silence settled between the three of them.

“She probably left with them, right?” Danny asked. “They wouldn’t have left her alone here?”

“There’s no way they’d just leave her there. Not with Star missing.” Tucker said. 

Silence hovered over them again for a few seconds before Danny spoke. “You guys go home. I’m gonna fly up and down the streets over here again.”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.” Danny took off, flying above the buildings and scanning the ground below him. “Be careful getting home and let me know when you get there.”

They both gave him affirmatives and he looked up and down each street. In fifteen minutes he got notice that Sam was home and ten minutes after that so was Tucker.

He let out a deep breath, a bit more relaxed now that he knew Sam and Tucker were safely at home. He had a bad feeling, but he hadn’t seen anything suspicious along the streets or in the alley, so maybe Paulina did leave with Kwan and Dash and she just dropped her hair clip. 

He turned around to start heading back home. He dropped down in between his house and the neighbor’s and transformed. Before heading inside, he let Sam and Tucker know he was home and he turned off the Fenton Phones and put them in his pocket. 

Danny opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind him. He greeted his parents who sat waiting on the couch, his mom reading the paper and his dad cross stitching something. He yawned and started heading upstairs to get ready for bed.

After brushing his teeth and changing in the bathroom, Danny crossed the hall into his room, closing the door and turning off the light. He flopped down onto his bed and pulled the covers over himself.

He hoped Paulina was doing better tomorrow. 

QQQQQ

Paulina was missing. 

She had never come home last night and her parents called all her friends, asking if they knew where she was. No one had seen her since yesterday, and her parents filed a missing person report. It spread like wildfire through the school.

Dash and Kwan in particular looked horrified and close to hysterics throughout the day. They didn’t talk to anyone, didn’t even really look in anyone’s direction when their names were called. 

It took until lunch, but soon word spread that one of the underclassmen was missing too. One of the band kids. No one had seen him since last night either and he just happened to live in the area that the ice cream shop was in. 

It didn’t stop there either. Day after day, more and more kids were disappearing. Mikey, Dale, Sarah, more underclassmen. It was getting to the point where they cancelled school until someone had some answers. 

That didn’t stop Sam from going out and searching for any clue she could find though. The first time Danny had seen her when he was patrolling on his own, he scooped her right up and took her home, scolding her. 

When his mom got a panicked phone call from Sam’s hysteric mom, his heart dropped into his stomach. His hands went numb and he stared at his mom until she got off the phone and walked over to where he sat on the couch.

She pulled him into her arms tightly and whispered into his hair.

“Sam’s missing.”

QQQQQ

“Come on, Danny!” Tucker yelled through the computer. “You can’t just walk around waiting to be kidnapped! If you get kidnapped how are we gonna fix this?”

“What we’ve been doing hasn’t been working, Tucker!” Danny yelled back. “I can only cover so much ground when I don’t know what I’m looking for and you can’t be out there. I can barely do any patrols as it is, my parents are always coming up to my room to check on me. I don’t see any other way to do this.”

“What if you don’t come back either?”

Danny paused. “I have to come back. If I don’t come back then neither does Sam.”

Tucker sighed. “Just. Be careful.”

“I’ll try to be as careful as I can while being kidnapped.”

Tucker made a face at him just before Danny logged off. Transforming, Danny jumped into the air and flew out the window. He flew around town a bit before dropping off into the alleyway he found Paulina’s hair clip in. The areas that the kids were last seen in seemed to be all over town, but he couldn’t shake the sound that the garbage cans had made that day out of his head.

Pressing his back against the wall, Danny transformed and strolled out, walking down the street. There weren’t many people out most days now. Most of them were too afraid of going outside and getting snatched up like all the teenagers. 

He’d been walking for fifteen minutes before he heard the crunch of gravel underneath tires behind him. He didn’t turn around and kept walking forward. Footsteps rapidly approached him and suddenly a bag was over his head.

“Hey!” He shouted. 

“Are you sure we should take this one? What about his parents?”

Someone else scoffed. “They’re too dumb to do anything about it. They won’t even know where to find him. Just help me get him in the car.”

They picked Danny up and hauled him back towards the car. He heard the trunk open and they tied his wrists together before shutting the trunk heavily above him. Soon the vehicle was moving and driving away. 

Well, he accomplished what he sent out to do. It wasn’t very comfortable though. 

They must’ve been driving for at least an hour because by the time they stopped, both of Danny’s legs were asleep. The trunk popped open and he could feel the cold air rushing in. They pulled him out and placed him on the ground, yanking him back up after he almost collapsed from the pins and needles feeling in his legs. 

They walked him to an entrance where he could hear key cards being scanned at multiple points. They led him through squeaky hallways until they stopped and were suddenly lifting him up onto a bed? No, a stretcher. They strapped him down and once he was tightly bound they ripped the bag off of his head. 

Danny scrunched his eyes up at the white light bouncing off the bright white walls. Looking around, he saw two faces staring down at him. Agent K and Agent O. 

“The GIW?” Danny said. “What the fuck? Why are you kidnapping humans?”

They ignored him and started pushing him down a very long hallway. 

Rolling down the long hallway, Danny can hear the moans and groans, most of them coming from ghosts. He looks around and sees room upon room, windows letting him see the people inside each of them. 

His heart drops when he sees Star. She’s floating inside her room, a small husk of a ghost. When she sees him, her eyes immediately light up with rage and sparks fly off of her as she bounces all over the room. 

In the next room is Paulina. It doesn’t look like she’s a ghost, but it looks like she’s sick with ghost powers again. She’s pressed tightly against the wall she shares with Star. She hiccups and a ghost sense floats out of her mouth. 

As they push him by, he sees everyone. Mikey, Dale, Sarah. All of the underclassmen that went missing. Even Dash was there. Each one various levels of dead, alive, and sick.

They reach the end of the hallway and his pulse is spiking, his heart hammering in his chest. He hasn’t seen Sam anywhere.

He clears his throat. “So, uh, wanna share what you guys are doing here?”

“Ghost studies.” Agent K clips out.

“Right. Why are you kidnapping humans then?”

“It’s easier to make ghosts than to catch them.”

“What-” Danny stops and his eyes widen. They can’t be serious. Making ghosts? His thoughts go back to Star, bouncing around her room like a comet and his blood runs cold.

They roll through a set of double doors and when they open they’re in an operating room. His thoughts are buzzing and he can hear the click and ping of metal objects being placed on the counter. They’re just about to roll a utensil cart over to his stretcher when he hears a scream that fills his veins with fire. 

Without even thinking about it, Danny rips his wrists out of the restraints and punches Agent O in the face. He falls into the cart and all of the tools clatter to the ground. Danny shoots an ectoblast at each belt binding his ankles to the stretcher and hops off the bed, facing Agent K, glaring at him, hands filled with ectoplasm.

“You’re a ghost!” Agent K exclaims before Danny kicks him in the stomach. 

“And you’re scum.” Danny snarls. He shoots an ectoblast into the side of Agent K’s head, knocking him unconscious. 

Transforming, Danny jumps up into the air and starts flying from room to room, looking for Sam. He finally finds her in another room in a different hallway, another agent sticking a needle full of ectoplasm into her arm. She screams again. 

As the agent is reaching for something else from a tray, Danny picks up the tray, sending its contents flying, and smashes it into his face. The agent tumbles to the ground and Danny grabs his keycard. Picking Sam up, Danny phases them out of the room, locking the agent inside. 

“Sam! Sam, are you okay?” Danny asks shakily. 

She shakes her head. “We can’t worry about me right now. We have to get your parents and the cops.”

“But-”

Sam shakes her head again. “Some of these kids won’t make it long enough for you to patch me up. They’ve been sick for too long.”

He looks at her for a few seconds before nodding. He shoots up into the air, holding Sam close to his chest as he flew as fast as he could back home. 

He flew straight into the living room, halting abruptly when he saw his parents standing there. They stared with wide eyes at Sam in his arms and started reaching for their guns.

“Wait!” He shook his head. “We need your help! I found out where all the kids are!”

Maddie’s gun clattered to the ground. “Where are they? Was Danny with them?”

“Danny’s fine, he’s not there.” He said hurriedly. “They’re in a GIW compound outside of town. We need to hurry.”

“Let me just-” Maddie started reaching for Sam.

“No! We can’t waste any time.” His grip tightened on Sam. “She said she’ll be fine for now but there are kids who won’t make it much longer. They need our help more right now.”

“Okay. Okay, Jack. Get the keys for the van and a couple of bazookas. You take Sam to the van and direct us to the compound. I’m going to get in touch with the police.”

They all piled into the van and Danny directed them toward the compound. Danny kept a close eye on Sam and Maddie stayed on the phone until they reached the compound, giving the police the address. The van slammed through the brick wall surrounding the compound and straight into the front wall of the building. 

They all jumped out, Danny still carrying Sam, and he keycarded them through all the locked doors until they got to the wing full of students. Maddie covered her mouth as she looked at them. 

Soon the police got there and they began to cart out the agents that remained in the building. Paramedics came in to take care of the kids who were still alive while Jack and Maddie worked on calming Star and the other ghosts down. 

Danny let go of Sam’s hand slowly as the paramedics loaded her into the ambulance. He turned around and flew back into the building where he found his parents trying to comfort a distraught Star. 

He floated up to her and held a hand out. She looked at it and her eyes darted up to his face, recognition flashing through them. Tears welled up in her eyes and she stood, wrapping her arms around him as she sobbed. 

He loosely wrapped his arms back around her and waited with her until she was ready to go.

QQQQQ

Danny, Sam, and Tucker sat closely together on top of Danny’s bed. They had just gotten back from the memorial held for all the kids that died inside the compound. Danny and Tucker each held one of Sam’s hands, gripping them tightly. 

Sam took a deep breath and let it out shakily, her fingers twitching and going through Danny’s hand before settling back in place. 

Danny hoped to whatever deity there might be that this would never happen again. No matter what anyone thought of the ghosts in Amity Park, they had never stooped low enough to kill someone. They weren’t collecting humans for a ghost farm. 

He glanced up at the window, looking at the night sky. A ghost flew through the night, sparking brightly like a comet.

[equal-shipping]

Why Kaishin Still Holds Up, Even Now.

I FINALLY watched the 23rd Detective Conan and let me tell you what...

Why are there not more episodes with these two working so closely together? Like please?! They got that solved so quickly and just shared information with one another and can I please just have them interact before the series ends pleaaaaaase.

Yet I'm not here for begging. I'm here to rant and cleverly disguise that rant as an essay.

I want to rant about trust in Detective Conan (specifically with a look at Kaishin) and the Enemies turned Rivals turned Friends turned Lovers trope.

[Mild Spoilers Ahead]

Trust as a Driving Force in Detective Conan

If someone asked me what is one of the many driving forces in the DC plot as well as the cornerstone of many of the relationships in DC it would be trust. Most of the characters in DC are living their lives with lies as the foundation of who they present themselves to be.

And here is something that I love about the relationship these two have with one another:

The trust that Shinichi has on Kid was earned and vice versa.

I don't think that Shinichi thinks that Kaito Kid is the most honest person in the world, but he does know that the magician works by a code and he trusts him to not put someone in any immediate danger despite the fact that Kaito Kid does not inherently talk too deep about his heists with him.

Ask yourself this. Where in canon did it say that in Kid's heist nobody gets hurt by Kid? I've read the manga and nowhere does he really say 'this is a safe show for everybody!' Let me tell you where it says it: Nowhere.

So why do we all assume it to be that way? Because even we have trust in our favourite thief that he won't do something to actively hurt someone. Since the story is being told in Shinichi's point of view, most of the times, we can rely on the trust that Shinichi has placed on Kid to not get anyone hurt.

One big example of this would be in the Detective Conan Movie: The Sunflowers of Inferno:

Leaving Ran in Kid's care is a conscious decision he is doing despite the fact that he doesn't know if Kid is even going to make it out. Shinichi loves Ran probably more than he loves himself and he wants her out of danger enough to place trust in someone that, situation wise, has no business whether Ran or Shinichi live or not. I honestly think that even Kid was surprised that Shinichi made that decision.

Now I'm not going to put my shipper goggles when I make this statement and go 'OH MY GOD THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH IT SHOWS IT EVERYWHERE. LOOK AT THE SHOW, STUPID."

But these two have something that not many of the characters in DC have and that is a mutual trust without knowing all the details of their lives.

Kaito happened to guess that Conan was Shinichi and I doubt that Shinichi is going to meet Kuroba Kaito by the end of the series. These two barely know each other but through their interactions just happen to understand each other enough to work together amazingly when thrust into a situation where they have to help each other out.

Which brings me to the second thing I want to talk about.

My Enemy Went From Being My Rival to My Friend to my Lover, What Happens Now?

I want to break into Gosho's house and ask him to please let Kaito Kuroba meet Shinichi Kudou. Like this is such a might need that I'm almost scared of looking forward to the ending of DC because I just have a feeling it isn't going to happen.

I might also ask him why the hell every side character needs a romance subplot but that is neither here nor there.

But now that the ships have been decided and canon has sealed the final nail on everything, I just want to talk about the trope that makes Kaishin just so amazing for me.

If I am remembering my facts right, Magic Kaito came before Detective Conan. Kaito was a realized character, somewhat, and was clearly a very likable chara with a ridiculous high IQ and a secret he couldn't reveal to anybody.

I mean he's a goddamn beautiful man is what I'm trying to say.

When I first read the series I could immediately tell that Aoko was set to be the romantic interest, Gosho really ain't fooling nobody. She seemed cute, extroverted and a girl who seems to really care for Kaito. Of course there was the juicy tidbit of Kaito being the thief her father is hunting down that also kept the relationship interesting.

So I was more than okay with having these two together.

I was already a bit aware of Detective Conan so I was all for the ShinRan as well. The pining, the secrets, the care that Shinichi has for her that transcends the organizations doing!

Also fun fact: Kaito/Aoko was the basis for Shinichi/Ran! Which is why ShinRan is thematically better than Kaito/Aoko but I will not go into that.

So one sad day during quarantine, I decided to rewatch the series to see if I could get any writing inspiration.

Now I don't know if it was quarantine or a change of heart or just me growing up but Gosho's friend trope seemed boring to me the more the episodes continued on. I AM NOT THROWING THE FRIENDSHIP TROPE DOWN, IT IS BEAUTIFUL I STILL SHIP SHINRAN

But I was tired of picking vanilla and wanted to see what else was on the menu.

And as luck would have it, I had decided to watch episode 515: Kaito Kid's Teleportation Magic and fate decides to deliver me a wonderful hit to the heart:

What is it about characters pointing guns at each other that I love so much?

And Shinichi doesn't react like a normal fucking person he just goes:

He knows this man ain't gonna shoot. They have had five interactions before this (if we are going by anime episodes) and through all those interactions Shinichi managed to get to a level of banter with this guy that he hasn't had with any of his other enemies.

If he even considered Kaito Kid an enemy to begin with.

Both Kaito and Shinichi have a mutual respect for each other's skill.

They test each other out in several situations and are pleased when the other figures it out, kinda transitioning their little chases to more of a 'two really smart guys trying to outwit each other' and less of a detective trying to outsmart a thief.

Shinichi enjoys figuring out his magic and Kaito enjoys the challenge of making some of his magic tricks near impossible to figure out. Their friendship is something really special and if they can have it without even knowing the details of each other's life, imagine how strong it would be if they truly met each other face to face.

I don't really want to cross into headcanon territory that would turn them into lovers, lord knows we have more fanfiction to do so, but it is just wonderful to see these two men both living a lie respectively but finding some solace in each other that they can shut their brains off for one second and just...play.

Hell, Kid's heists might be Shinichi's safe place. In those heists he is known as the 'Kid Killer' and not just some brat who happens to figure shit out. His opinion matters in those heists.

And not just to the police, but to Kaito as well.

BUT IM GETTING OFF TOPIC!

I just wanted to show love to this wonderful ship q wq