The Devil Writes Fanfiction King_RG Summary: Lori Grimes fancies herself a writer, but she doesn't fancy herself a racist...supposedly. ****WRITTEN JUST FOR I_HATE_THE_SNOW aka NaughtyNicky***** Notes:
For I_hate_the_snow.
***WARNING: This fic was written just for I_HATE_THE_SNOW. She's such a talented, misunderstood, interesting soul that I've yet again decided to honor her with a gift. Oh and Nicky, I really hope you enjoy this one. It was tailored to you. I'd like you to know that I wrote this one entirely by myself, that's how special you are to me. I know you think I'm grlmonday, but alas, rest easy knowing there's two people out there that just "love" you so, so, so much. Thank you for inspiring this work. Work Text:
Lori Grimes fancied herself a writer. She'd never been particularly successful at it but it'd never discouraged her from writing about her favorite characters, and, sometimes, her least favorite characters. If a story didn't come to her, then she'd just steal another person's fic and change the names and act like she'd written it. Fanfiction, it was called. And Lori had found a very, very, very small following in the outlet. Namely, herself. Sometimes days went by, even weeks, and her stories wouldn't get a single review. In those cases, she would always log in anonymously, leave herself a review, and then log back into her real account and thank herself for the amazing words of praise.
Writing may have been her passion but she was an avid reader as well, even reading fanfictions by other writers. She liked to support the community but truthfully, most of the time, Lori was left feeling dissatisfied with the other work. The others writers loved to bash her favorite character, Rory Slimes. At least it felt like bashing to Lori. It enraged her. Who were they to not appreciate Rory Slimes? Rory Slimes was beautiful, smart, funny, and caring. The character was dead now. Lori's favorite show, The Stalking Bed, had killed Rory Slimes off, but Rory's late husband, Prick Slimes, had survived. All the fans wanted Prick Slimes to end up with a newer character, a black woman by the name of Michonna.
It felt disrespectful to Lori, how they wrote about this new relationship. It felt even worse when the fans had the audacity to write Rory Slimes in a way that was less than perfect because Rory Slimes had been perfect.
And Lori wasn't a passive person. Instead, she'd decided to take matters into her own hands and give the fans of Michonna a taste of their medicine. Lori set out on a journey to write Michonna in the worst way imaginable. Lori wrote stories where Michonna was a whore, Lori wrote stories where Michonna was pissed on, the possibilities were endless and nothing was off limits in Lori's opinion. It was what the fans deserved, she thought, for daring to taint Rory Slimes' good name.
Lori stayed up all night writing her newest masterpiece, Satan Wears Braids, a truly thought provoking tale that included so many racial slurs and misogyny that it filled Lori with glee. She knew Michonna fans would be angry, and it made her so happy to know they'd finally taste something worse than their own medicine. Her story was pure poison and she was proud of it. When Lori's husband, Rick, came into their bedroom that night, Lori happily slid the laptop over to his side of the bed and insisted he read it.
"Well, what do you think?" Lori asked her husband after thirty minute has went by and Rick's mouth was still wide open in shock. "It's amazing, isn't it?"
"Lori, this is racist. This is truly despicable. I'm ashamed to you call you my wife right now."
Lori was getting annoyed but she let him go on while she scratched her crotch and flicked lint balls across the room.
"Why would you write this, Lori? I want to light my eyeballs on fire after consuming this. I want to bleach my brain."
"Rick, they started it. They write my favorite character, Rory Slimes, not being perfect. The Michonna fans even want Rory's husband to move on to a happy and healthy relationship! Can you believe that? So I decided to make them suffer for what they did!"
Lori's husband continued to stare at her disdainfully.
"So they wrote Rory Slimes getting pissed on? They wrote Rory Slimes being called racial slurs? They wrote Rory Slimes as a white trash stereotype and referred to her as the devil himself?"
"Well, no." Lori admitted.
"Babe, I think you might be a racist."
"I am not!" Lori objected. "Rick, what's good for the goose is good for gander. If they can upset me with their stories, so can I. If black lives matter, so does mine!"
She was pleased when Rick finally seemed to come to his senses, nodding along.
"You're right, Lori. What's fair is fair."
And with that, he whipped out his dick, pissed on her face, and called her a cracker. When he left the room, packing his things as he went, Lori ignored him. Instead she just slept in his piss, the point flying completely over her head.
The internet was all a buzz the next morning. Lori had posted Satan Wears Braids and the fandom was upset. Lori loved it. She loved all the attention she was getting. She loved knowing the other writers had read her story, and her fanfictions had never gotten so many comments. Sadly, the high was short lived.
Just like that husband of hers, people were calling her a racist. Lori knew she wasn't a racist. So what if she saw no problem referring to a black woman as the N word? So what if she hated Michonna so much that she wanted her to be pissed on? So what? Lori Grimes might have had crabs but she wasn't a racist. The reviews began to infuriate her, so Lori did what she always did: she wrote more stories about Michonna being evil.
She had Michonna kill babies. She had Michonna abusing everyone she came in contact with. When the reviewers continued to call Lori a racist, Lori actually went back and changed names in other stories, stories without Michonna, and replaced a "bad" character's name with Michonna, just to make them mad. The spite fueled her writing. For every review, Lori wrote another story, always with bad Michonna. Then, just so she could defend herself, she wrote Michonna as a neurologist and threw it in people's faces when they called her a racist.
But I wrote Michonna as a doctor! That was Lori's story and she stuck to it. At least, she stuck to it until she couldn't take it anymore and changed that story too, just out of spite. Screw Michonna, and her fans too, Lori figured. She would show them – she would change Michonna's name to another character, a white woman, just to get back at them.
When Carl came home from school, Lori was still hunched over her laptop, spewing more racial slurs from her fingertips.
"Mom, what's for dinner?" Carl asked.
"Nothing, I'm busy."
"Are you writing more of those racist stories, mom? Dad told me about them. He said we're leaving you."
"Son, I'm not a racist. I simply write a black woman in the most degraded, evil, stereotypical, toxic way possible."
Lori let out a giant poot, one that smelled of rotten eggs, forcing Carl to cover his nose with his shirt, his next words coming out muffled.
"Well, I went onto the fanfiction website. And someone wrote a story just for you, Mom. They called it Satan Wears An Oven Mitt."
Lori leaped from her seat with glee! Someone had written a story just for her! She'd never received such a precious gift in her life. Finally, at long last, someone on the internet loved her. It was all she'd ever wanted.
"Son, give me your phone, lemme see it."
Carl handed his mom the phone, already open to the story in question. Satan Wears An Oven Mitt, there it was, just for Lori! The author had even gifted it to her, that's how special Lori was, and she felt special in that moment. The characters listed were Rory Slimes, Prick Slimes, and Michonna. Lori knew it would be a good one, it was written just for her after all!
It didn't take long for her frown to turn upside down. The story wasn't good at all, in fact, it was infuriating! The author had simply written Rory Slimes in a negative way, an atrocious way, knowing Lori would read it if were gifted to her. Lori was enraged. She'd never felt so angry, like her blood was simply about to boil over. Or maybe that was her cold sore.
"What is this?" Lori asked a loud, mainly to herself, not expecting her son to answer.
"Mom, it looks like they gave you a taste of your own medicine."
"No, son!" Lori yelled. "They've degraded Rory Slimes! They've crossed a line, they will pay. The audacity of these people, these Michonna fans. They're all racist against white people, the whole lot of 'em."
"But…but, Mom. Dad said you wrote Satan Wears Braids just to get back at them. Now these authors are doing it to you. You started it with spite stories This is what you get."
Once again, the point flew right over Lori's head. She couldn't grasp the big words her son was using, not at all. All Lori knew was that she would not tolerate Rory Slimes to be written about in such a fashion. The authors, whoever they were, would pay. She was fond of telling people that she could write whatever she wanted, that if they didn't like it they didn't have to read what she wrote. They should respect her right to say whatever she wanted. Of course, that rule didn't apply to Lori. No! If someone wrote something she didn't like, why, she got to throw a fit and start harassing the writers. Well, the black one, at least.
Lori started small. She left a review on the story, thanking the authors for their work. Of course, on the inside, she was fuming. But she wouldn't let them see that, or so she thought. Next, she started promoting the fic on her own personal Fumblr account. Lori knew if she pretended to like it, pretended she didn't care, the authors would cry.
But truthfully Lori didn't like and she did care. She cared so much that she began to stalk one of the authors on Fumblr, Deadjournal, , and every outlet she could find. She knew one of them was white, so she left that one alone. She only paid attention to the black woman that helped write the fic. Not that Lori was racist or anything. She just claimed only the black woman wrote the fic, alone, since she couldn't figure out who her partner in crime was on Fumblr, so she could stalk her, too.
Lori was obsessed with one of the authors, the black one, driven mad by her anger. She refreshed the woman's blogs, waiting to see if she mentioned Lori. When the second author confronted her about it, Lori played dumb, except she wasn't playing at all. Lori truly believed she wasn't stalking one of them. Nevermind that the woman could track the hits on her blogs, watching Lori's IP address visit the page several times a day, several times an hour.
When the one she harassed went silent, Lori made posts bashing her. Lori played the victim, still defending herself. No one believed her, of course. No one liked a single one of her posts, not a single note on any of them, but Lori believed her truth. She truly believed she'd done nothing wrong. That writing Michonna horrifically to teach someone a lesson was perfectly acceptable, but other people writing Rory Slimes the same way, for the exact same reason, was not.
And they were still wrong about Lori being racist. So what if she saw no problem with stooping to the lowest of lows, using the N word, making someone a whore, just to prove a point? So what if that was the first thing that popped into Lori's mind when she thought of how to hurt a fan base that contained women of color? It wasn't racist, not at all.
"Lori, are you still writing those racist stories?"
The question came from Lori's neighbor, Carol Peletier. Lori had been on the front porch, airing out her vagina, when the other woman stopped by during a walk.
"I'm not racist, Carol. And these Michonna fans…they're assassinating my character, calling me a racist!"
"I've read your stories, Lori, and they're really terrible. I'd be ashamed that such thoughts even lurked in my head."
Lori couldn't believe her neighbor wasn't on her side. Wasn't anyone on her side? No actually, no they weren't. The only support she got came from anonymous comments Lori had left for herself.
"Carol, they wrote a story about Rory Slimes, an awful thing. I wrote 'bad' Michonna stories just to get back at them and then they wrote 'bad' Rory! Can you believe that?"
Carol didn't reply. She just stood and blinked, dumbfounded, making Lori desperate to finally have somebody agree with her and tell her she was right.
"I contacted one of the authors. You know, the black one, not the white one. Not because I'm racist, though. I made fun of her profile picture and how fat she is. I stalked her online. I threatened to tell her daddy. I made fun of her book sales! Oh yes, yes I did! And you know what that bitch did to me?"
"I can't imagine," Carol replied, clearly unamused, but Lori was good at missing things.
"She told everyone about it! I offered to make peace with her and she actually said no. Can you believe that? So then I changed my story and claimed I never said any of those things about her."
Lori felt righteous and justified. She was the victim here, she was positive of it. She'd done absolutely nothing wrong. So what if Carol had rolled her eyes and left? So what if she watched a car drive by, Rick's car. He'd moved on to a beautiful woman he worked with, a beautiful woman named Michonne. Not that Lori cared. She had people to stalk, and names to change in her stories.
