There was a day during Ash Ketchum's Pokémon journey that perfectly illustrated a predicament that currently plagues the Pokémon fandom.
Now, Ash himself knew as much about Pokémon as the next perpetually-ten-year-old child. But he sure didn't know what a "fandom" was, or know of the Internet's finer details. He certainly wasn't well versed in handling petty drama of any kind, let alone the kind he was about to face. One day, when two insurmountable forces of highly-concentrated insignificance clashed before his very eyes, he couldn't have possibly imagined the shitshow that would ensue.
It all started when he and his trusty pals were strolling through one of the nicer areas of Kanto, droning off in thought while Brock whistled a tune appropriate for a day of clear skies. Misty silently coddled her Togepi in her arms, drawing a yawn from the creature every now and then.
At one point, Ash's Pikachu, who had been resting all day on Ash's shoulder after nearly a week of arduous training, let out a feeble yawn of his own and leaned further into his trainer.
"Arceus, buddy, you sure are tired," Ash said as he rubbed his friend's ears.
Pikachu could barely murmur the beginning of a response before being interrupted by the sound of an unfamiliar man loudly clearing his throat. Ash jumped in place before turning and acknowledging the figure behind them. Ash opened his mouth to snap at the mysterious man for sneaking up on them, but held his tongue when he noticed what a strange outfit the man was wearing: black tailored suit, black glasses, shiny black shoes. Black on black on black, with the sole exception of a red band around his right wrist.
"Are you from the secret service?" Misty asked the man, who quickly shushed her.
"Silence. My name is Farla; that is all you need to know." His mouth barely moved as he spoke. He turned his head a single degree away from Misty and towards Ash. "Boy. You shouldn't substitute Arceus for the Judeo-Christian god in your fanfiction. It is horribly overdone and—"
"Fanfiction...? Judeo-Christian...?" Ash tilted his head. "What's that?"
Farla ignored him. "Furthermore, you wouldn't capitalize animal or mouse or dragon, so you shouldn't capitalize pokemon or pikachu or charizard. The only time you would capitalize it is if you're using it as the pokemon's name."
Ash, Brock, and Misty could do little more than stare at the strange little man droning on and on about Arceus-knew-what.
The man noticed the confusion in their eyes mid-tangent; furrowing his brow, he gestured towards Ash's Pikachu with his hand. "In this chapter's third and fourth paragraphs, 'Pikachu' and 'Togepi' were both incorrectly capitalized."
The man's elaboration did less than nothing to help Ash understand. "…Uh, I don't really get it..."
The mysterious man held up a silencing hand. "Listen, boy. You make take my advice or you may leave it, but I am not in the practice of arguing. Visit this thread if you have any complaints or further inquiries."
Producing a rectangular card from his pocket, the man handed it to Ash and nodded his farewell. Without precedence—without wings for that matter—he levitated into the air and sped off towards the horizon.
Togepi purred in wonder at the sight of a man fucking flying. Pikachu simply stared at the spot the man's black shoes had just been sitting stationary a moment before, equally as dumbfounded.
"That was... bizarre," Brock finally said, "Should we just keep going?"
"I guess so," Misty shrugged.
Ash shrugged back. "Right. Let's just hope that's the weirdest thing that happens to us today."
It wouldn't be.
They would reach their destination—Vermillion City—about an hour after the strange encounter with the man in black.
"Man, you'd-a thought that guy was a saint the way he was telling us what to do," Misty huffed.
"He was pretty far out there," Ash said, shaking his head. "But at least he didn't attack us, right?"
Brock considered his friend's words for a brief moment. "...That's true. It seemed like he was trying to help us, but just didn't know how to properly communicate whatever it was he wanted."
"Or that he cared in general," Misty added, still visibly annoyed. "I really didn't like that guy."
"Excuse me." The unfamiliar voice startled the trio. They all turned around to face a woman who instantly made them realize that no, this day was not going to get any less weird. She wore generic white clothing, but what made her stand out was the mini police siren attached to the top of her head like a hat. Upon further inspection, Ash noticed the letters "Anti-FASTEF" tattooed in black across her forehead, underlined by a pair of eyes that made Ash doubt her mental health before even getting to know her.
"Oh," Misty began, "Hel—"
"I'm Fire4Heaven and I'm here to tell you that St. Elmo's Fire, Farla, Talarc, The Reeds of Enki are going around giving nonsense advice to new and old users all by targeting the published story section. They talk about your grammar, using Arceus as your god, and other simple stuff." The woman didn't even seem to hear Misty. Only her message—whatever it was—seemed to be on this crazy lady's mind. "It's best to ignore or block them as they don't really help and are better blocked. And I guarantee that one of them will show up out of the blue."
Ash narrowed his eyes. "You mean like how you just did?"
Brock placed a hand on Ash's shoulder. "Let's just... nod and walk away, alright bud?"
And so they did. Ash entertained a glance back at the crazy lady to see if she would follow them. She wasn't, but Ash noticed that she hadn't even acknowledged that they'd left at all—she was still droning on about whatever it was she'd been blabbering about.
"Hey, wait a second..." A figurative lightbulb turned on atop Misty's head. "That lady mentioned 'Farla'. D-do you guys think she was talking about that weird guy that stopped to talk to us earlier?"
"She could've been, definitely…" Brock shrugged. "I don't think it really concerns us either way, though."
Neither Ash nor Misty could argue with that, which about settled what any of the three had to say about the day's events. And to their delight, that would be the last of their outlandish encounters.
…For that particular day, at least.
Because the very next morning, when Misty woke up bright and early to go grab some groceries, she was greeted by the unsettling stare of the woman from the day before. The water-type gym leader had barely made it outside the group's hotel room before she was made a victim of another ridiculous tangent.
"I'm Warhammer4life and I'm here to tell you about—"
"Wh-wait!" Misty snapped. "Y-you're the same girl from yesterday! Why are you trying to act like someone else?"
For the first time the woman seemed to acknowledge Misty, grimacing. "I am not the same person. I don't use alts!" Then, continuing as if never interrupted, she began again. "I'm here to give you a warning that Farla, St. Elmo's Fire, Talarc, Spencer841, and a few others are bullying new Pokemon writers and ruining the fandom!"
Misty was beyond words and had to restrain herself from outright slugging this girl in the jaw with her clenched fist—an act definitely not beyond her. For the sake of her own composure, though, she simply decided to walk to the lobby of the hotel, where she noticed Ash and Brock lingering around.
She didn't need to call out for them to notice her situation; the crazy lady had followed Misty into the lobby without so much as stuttering during her loud rant about people Misty knew next to nothing about. Ash and Brock looked over and grew wide-eyed with recognition.
"Misty! Um—"
"Let's just get moving," Misty grumbled, cuffing Ash off. "I'm tired of this place already."
So they did just that. And the crazy lady, whom they no longer knew what to call, went as well.
After a good fifteen minutes of trying to ignore her soliciting, Ash finally exploded. "Ngh, what do you want with us?!"
The crazy lady threw her nose in the air and humphed. "I'm protecting the community from the likes of Farla and St. Elmo. I saw you three run into one of them yesterday on the road, and I'm here to keep you safe! Now do as I say!"
Misty put her hands on her hips. "Wha—For goodness sake, we're not in any danger! Just leave us alone, you're acting no less-weird than that guy in all-black did!"
Brock put a hand on Misty's shoulder and made an effort to lead her and Ash down the path to the next town. "Just ignore her, c'mon."
"I swear I won't stop until Farla and St. Elmo are taken down!" she snarled. "If no one else will police this fandom, then I will!"
There was no use in replying to that. Relief poured over the group like rainfall when they realized the lady wasn't following them as they walked. Her aimless ranting faded away as the distance grew between them, until soon she was out of sight entirely.
And before too long, Lavender Town would come into sight before them. Ash had already expressed his desire to merely pass through rather than stay the night; for one, he wanted to make haste on his journey, but really he just wanted to get as far away from the crazy lady as he could. He shuddered to think what sort of impression she might leave on someone just getting into Pokémon, considering she'd managed to unsettle an experienced trainer such as himself so much.
"Lavender Town, finally!" Ash said. "Should we stop for some lunch?"
Togepi piped up, rolling sideways in Misty's arms and co-signing the suggestion to get food.
Brock approached a lady facing away from them and tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me miss, could you tell us where we could grab a bite to—"
He froze in his tracks and nearly pissed himself when she turned around and met his gaze with the same deranged stare from earlier.
"Well, well. My name is Hybrid of Fate, and I'm here to tell you about Farla and St. Elmo..."
No. Nope. Ash wasn't having it, and neither were his friends. They didn't care if their legs were tired or they were hungry, it was time to move on to Fuchsia City.
But as they had begun to fear, this person—this nuisance—was waiting for them, everywhere they went. They never ran into the strange Farla character again, and had long since forgotten about him… but Hybrid of Fate, or whatever her name was on any given day, would always be there to bathe them in her annoying presence. Always waiting for them. Getting inside their heads, gnashing her teeth at any efforts to ignore her cries for war. To Fuchsia city, to Celadon, Saffron, Cerulean, and onwards. It never stopped, and showed no signs of stopping.
Over time, after days and days of experiencing how the crazy lady became exactly what she swore to fight against, Ash finally cracked. Her misguided agenda had totally broken him.
"Guys," he whispered to his friends, all hope for the fandom gone from his voice. "I don't think I like Pokémon that much anymore."
In case you couldn't already tell, this is a short-story illustrating the predicament that the Pokémon fandom is currently dealing with. I used basic elements of the Pokémon anime (such as the characters and setting) as a medium of sorts.
Alright, look. I think I've expressed my personal views enough through this tiny little story of mine, but regardless, I'd like to explicitly articulate my distaste for the Anti-FASTEF movement: You people have far, far surpassed Farla and St. Elmo for the title of 'bully' in the Pokémon fandom. You are all the equivalent of a train wreck—despite how much worse you make the community by simply existing, I still cannot look away out of hope that I won't miss out on how you make a fool of yourselves next. Your detachment from reality has been ripe full of entertainment value so far… almost enough for me to wish you'd never change. Almost.
If you're a new Pokémon writer on ffn, understand that most of us are not like these people are. If you get a cold, curt review from Farla telling you that your story is bad, keep writing. If you get a fiery response from someone telling you that Farla is a big bad bully and should be blocked and yadda yadda, then ignore it and keep writing. And if both sides clash in your review section and turn what should be your safe place for feedback into a battleground of agendas, then whatever you do, make sure you keep fucking writing like the amazing author you are.
That's not to say your stories shouldn't be subject to constructive criticism. Constructive criticism is, by all means, the butter to your story's bread. But I think most rational people would agree that this "Critics United war" does not fit that criteria.
Now, I can imagine some people from either the Pro/Anti FASTEF side of things might have issues with me publishing this and essentially mocking you. If you did get offended, then... good! That's kinda the whole point, lol.
That's about all I got. Smiles go for miles!
—TheGOAT