#closest I'll ever come to the comic book fandom

[moa-broke-me]

I was tired.

I gripped my arms tighter around myself, shivering against the freezing pelts of rain, protected only by my baggy shirt. As I passed a store window, I caught a reflection of myself. My lips were blue.

I ducked into the 24 hour drugstore and gas station next to me, and tried to warm myself up a little by the coffee machine. The smell made me nauseated with hunger, so once i wasn't freezing to death, I left to grab the cough syrup off of the shelf, and a cup of instant ramen. Closest thing I could find to chicken noodle soup, and all it needed was a little hot water. We had that at the house, at least. I knew I'd get hungry again feeding her, so I snatched some cigarettes too, just to dull down the urgent pangs that had been growing in my stomach the last two weeks.

I tucked both of the items tight against my arms, and was about to leave, when the automatic doors opened.

Oh no. Was that... Batman?

I fell onto the floor and curled into a ball, begging him not to beat me up. But I knew it was no use; he hated criminals, and I was a criminal.

-

When I forced one of my eyes open, he was kneeling beside me, with the cough syrup and he noodle cup tucked into his arms. "How old are you?" He demanded gruffly.

I tried desperately not to cry, not to appear any weaker and more vulnerable than I already did. "Um..." I couldn't think of a lie, so I figured I should answer honestly. "... E-eight. I'll be nine in January."

"Yeah, I'm not beating up an eight year old. Not even if they kill someone."

I curled into myself. "A-aren't you mad at me? For... T-trying to steal?"

"I'm mad that you feel the need to." He answered. "The fact that you're out here at all, when it's this late. The fact that it's November and you don't even have a jacket on." He unsnapped his cape with one hand and draped it over me.

I hesitantly snapped it over me. It felt like that waterproof fabric umbrellas were made of, at least on the outside. The inside was fluffy and fleece-lined. "Th-thank you." I forced myself to stand up, legs shaking underneath me. "So, if you weren't looking for criminals to beat up, why were you here?"

"I was just getting some snacks for my driver and I. Running low on gas." Despite his intimidating cowel, I felt I had no choice but to believe him. "What were you doing here?"

I sighed shakily. "M-my little sister has a cold, a really bad one. I just need that medicine and soup for her, and then I'll be home again."

"I see... And why were you the one to go on this fetch quest? Where are your parents, or whoever's responsible for you?"

"My d-daddy's at home, but he... He doesn't do that kind of thing."

The man sighed. "I see. What does he do, then?"

"Um... Works, sometimes. Sleeps on the couch. Punishes us when we're bad."

His expression was hard to read with the mask on. "... What counts as 'bad'?"

I shrugged, holding myself. "I-I'm not sure. Being too loud, too quiet. Crying. Eating too much, not eating what he tells us to. Or..." I felt a chill run down my spine. "O-or telling anybody." I would be in a world of trouble when I got home.

His posture was stiff as he reached out to me. I didn't want to flinch when his hand reached my back, but I did. I didn't want to cry, but I was crying anyway.

He gently prodded me closer, and I stepped until my cheek was laying on his waist.

Eventually, he spoke again. "Would you like to come live with me?" He asked.

I did. No matter how scary he was, I'd take him over my dad any day. He seemed like he cared about me.

But...

"... I don't wanna leave her behind." I sniffled.

"You can bring her too. We'll stop at your address and let you get her, and anything else you'd like to take."

I nodded.

"There. Now, is there anything else you need from here? And please don't say cigarettes, I'm not buying an eight year old cigarettes."

I thought for a moment, before nodding. "Um, can I get a cup of hot chocolate?"

He nodded and went over to the coffee stand, which had a station for hot chocolate. I went out and picked up a lemon poppyseed muffin. It was bigger than my fist, and I silently went up to the hero I'd just met, and slipped it in with everything else.

He paid with cash, I guess to keep his secret identity a... Well... Secret, and as soon as everything was paid for, I started eating my muffin, only pausing to lift the cape over my head as we went to the parking lot. I slid into the backseat of the batmobile, my hot chocolate already in the drink holder.

"Alfred, I went ahead and got you werther's again." He held out a bag of caramel candy. "I know you like those."

"Thank you, Master Wayne." He replied. "Who's that in the backseat? Did you find yet another troubled little boy to call your own?"

"Guilty. What's your name, by the way? I never caught it."

"N-Nico." I answered. "Nico diAngelo."

"Right. Where's your old address, Nico? You said you had a sister to pick up."

I told him before shoving the last of the muffin in my mouth and sipping on the hot chocolate. "Do you have a baby seat?" I asked. "Sh-she's only two."

I watched Alfred's face scrunch in thought for a moment in the rear view mirror. "I believe so. Hold on."

He pressed a button, and suddenly, the center seat flipped out into a baby seat, built into the car. "Wow... I knew you had gadgets, but... Wow."

"Alfred?" He asked. "When did we get that installed?"

"I figured it was only a matter of time before you'd need it."

-

It wasn't long before we were at my dad's house. I quickly ducked out and snuck inside, making sure to avoid any of the floorboards that creak. Soon, I was back at my bed, where Hazel was sleeping, wrapped in my jacket. It was the closest thing she had to a baby blanket.

"baba?" She asked weakly, coughing.

I smiled. "I'm here, Hazel." I picked her up, still bundled in the jacket, and tried not to trip over the cape as I went back out again, covering both of us with Batman's waterproof cape.

I slipped in and sat her in the baby seat, pouring the little cup full of cough syrup and holding it to her mouth, but she wasn't having any of it. She fussed and cried and shook her head, but I pleaded with her anyway. "Hazy, please. It'll make you feel better."

She smacked the little cup out of my hand, crying her little lungs out.

And cough syrup splattered everywhere.

I froze. I didn't know what to say, I was horrified.

I began to hyperventilate. "Oh my god I'm so sorry! I'm so, so sorry, I ruined everything! The floor and the seats and... And your cape! Oh, I messed up your cape, it must've been so expensive, everything must've been so expensive and I got cough syrup all over it- I'm so sorry, please don't take us back to dad, please don't leave us in the woods, I'm sorry, I'll make up for it I promise! I-I..." I stopped talking when I heard the words 'pull over, and just curled up into myself, shaking and crying. It was no use, this was it, I've crossed the line-

"Breathe, Nico." His mask was off now, and I thought I recognized him from a magazine somewhere. "Breathe in for four seconds, alright?"

I tried to follow along, but it was hard working around the tightness in my chest.

"Alright, you're doing good. Hold it for seven seconds, can you do that?"

That was easier. I held my breath and counted to seven, looking to him for the next step.

"Now, out for eight seconds, ok kid?"

I nodded, and slowly let my breath out.

"There we go, just keep doing that until you feel better."

I looked up at him. "... How did you...?"

"Picked it up from Dr. Quinzell before she went with the circus. She was my grief counsellor way back when. I don't have panic attacks like that nearly as often anymore, but it still helps."

"Panic attack?"

"Yeah. Y'know, when you're so scared you can't breathe, or talk, or move? It feels like you're just... Frozen."

I considered his words for a moment. "... I thought that's just what being scared felt like." He looked incredibly sad just then, and I didn't understand why, but I felt like I'd done something wrong. "I'm sorry-"

"You don't have anything to apologize for. And I mean anything."

"N... N-not even spilling all the cough syrup?" I asked.

"Hey, accidents happen. That's why I have Alfred."

"And that's why I deserve a raise." He added.

"Yeah, you're getting one. Just like you got one with Grayson, and Cassie, and all the others."

He closed the door again, and went back to his seat. I began tending to Hazel, who was crying a little. I held her hand. "There we go, Hazy." I kissed her cheek. "My little hazelnut."

She cooed a little.

I kissed her chubby little baby hand, before turning back to the man who rescued me. "Who are they?" I asked.

"Hm? Oh, Cassie and Grayson? Just two of the kids I took in. My name's Bruce, by the way."

I hummed. "... How many have you taken in?" I asked.

Bruce shrugged. "Total of... Six. Or, I suppose eight now, counting you two. I'm sure you and them'll get along just fine, but we can hold off the meet and greet until you're ready. It's been a long night for you, hasn't it?"

I sighed. "Kinda, yeah."

We started moving again. I picked up my cup of hot chocolate, which was more like warm chocolate by now, and drank the last swig or so. I was lucky the syrup didn't end up inside.

-

When we reached the manor, Alfred picked Hazel up from her baby seat, and I felt my anxiety spike.

He must've noticed. "I'll make sure Madam Hazel is well taken care of." He assured me. "Trust me, I'm a professional."

I smiled a little bit. "Thank you, sir."

I got out and let him lead me to the front. He walked me down the hall, and showed me to my new room.

I laid down and sunk into the plush pillows and comforter, and I was out like a light.

-

@via-rant I've started this thing for real! You can add onto it if you want <3 We could even move it to AO3, I'll put you down as a co-creator

[sflow-er]

Some thoughts on writing and posting fic

In the last few days, there have been some lovely posts by fic writers, encouraging an anon who was thinking of posting their first fic but worried about readership. That kind of got me thinking as well, especially as my magnum opus just reached a bit of a milestone on ao3:

Those 50,000 hits (and 1,151 kudos) blow me away, and I'm forever grateful for each and every one of them - but this isn't a post about that. It's a post about how there is no point in comparing these stats to my latest fic, which will take a while to even break 500 hits (and hopefully 50 kudos). Or any of my other fics, for that matter.

Below are some of my personal thoughts on fic writing, the factors that I believe affect the popularity of a fic, and the motivational impact of engagement. My perspective is obviously that of a niche writer, but I think these observations could also be of interest to new writers or anyone struggling with such comparisons. I'll put a cut here because this got very long, but the TL:DR is this:

I write for myself, not for my readers. I post for my readers, not for the numbers.

A quick bit of background info: I have a pretty long history of sharing my writing. When I was little, I used to make comics & picture books for my younger brother, and in secondary school, I used to write stories in my English notebooks that only my teacher ever got to read. In my teens, I wrote fanfic in a couple of obscure fandoms and even a novel-length original story. The readership was just a handful of people, including my closest Internet and IRL friends, and I was very happy with that.

Before YR came along, I had not managed to write a creative text in over a decade. My studies and work had put out the spark, and I thought it was gone for good. So when YR reignited it, I very much started writing for myself. I'm sure every writer knows that feeling of something taking shape in your head and begging to be let out, as well as the satisfaction of seeing it all come together on your screen. At least I really hope they do.

Still, I knew right off the bat that I wanted to share the fic. I didn't care how many people read it, I just really hoped someone would. I missed the feeling of seeing people get joy out of something I created and connecting with them through it. Especially as I didn't have any other outlet for my YR thoughts and feels at the time. I also wanted to contribute something to the fandom that helped me regain this long-lost part of myself - and of course I could use some encouraging feedback too.

So that was how my magnum opus started out, and because of the timing, it became more popular than I imagined. The fandom was young (I started posting in August 2021, S2 wasn't even confirmed until September) and everyone was just really hungry for more. The vast majority of fics were focused on Wilmon from the start, but people were interested in pretty much anything exploring the rich and still largely undiscovered world of the show. My fic was niche and I had neither the guts nor the platform to promote it, but many people still found it.

I consider myself unbelievably lucky to have started posting at such an opportune time. The fandom has evolved in these 2+ years, and things are quite different for authors starting out now.

For one thing, the chorus of writers has expanded as more people have discovered the show and been inspired by it. As wonderful as that is, it does make it harder for any single voice to stand out. I think promoting one's work in fandom spheres such as tumblr and writing compelling tags and descriptions on ao3 has probably become more important, and of course it also helps if you've got some existing readers who follow your work.

Because for another thing, the readership has changed. Some fans have either left entirely or only follow their favourite writers now, while others have joined. New fans tend to start with the fandom classics, other wonderful recommendations, or the fics with the most kudos or comments. Which makes a lot of sense when there are thousands of fics to choose from, but it inevitably puts newer and more obscure writers at a disadvantage. Furthermore, it feels as if the number of readers who prefer completed fics may have increased, as people have seen some fics get abandoned along the way (and they now have more completed works to choose from). Again, that's very understandable, but it can feel discouraging to multi-chap writers.

I also can't help but wonder if there's been a shift in the fandom's interests, especially since S2. There's more canon to follow or disregard now, and people have had more time to develop fanon and their personal headcanons. All that affects what they want to read.

For example, the developments in S2 may have put some people off certain characters/ships/dynamics or made them fall in love with others. They may have started curating their reading to their hopes and expectations for S3. Some might even favour AUs to avoid speculation or guarantee Wilmon endgame, or they might long for fics solely focused on Wilmon and their love after they spent so much of S2 apart. There's nothing wrong with any of these approaches - but they do curb the already lower interest in fics focused on other characters, gen fics, rarepairs, unusual takes, and so on

To circle back to the example of my first fic, it would not get that kind of engagement if I started posting it now. It might be more popular than my other fics thanks to Wilmon featuring prominently as side characters, but it would still be outsider POV. In fact, even readers interested in the characters I focused on might be deterred by, say, the slow burn and lack of sexual content (now that those characters are a more established non-canon side ship and there's more fic available).

In a lot of ways, it's paradoxical to even speculate on this. If I started my first fic now, it would either be a totally different story (compliant with S2), or it might not be finished at all. What those 50,000 hits don't tell you is that a large portion of them were people checking for updates. The project completely took over my life for 10 months, and I doubt I would've got through some of the rough patches without the wonderful readers who were excited to follow it as a WIP, even when my updates got sparse from all the stress. My other fics would either not exist at all or have far less engagement if it wasn't for the loyal readers left over from that first fic, and the first fic wouldn't have as many reads without all the people who have reread it (as I know some have). And of course it is now also benefiting from the large number of existing kudos.

Anyway. My point is that comparing stats is neither fair nor useful, and that doesn't just apply to my own fics or niche fics in general. Every fic is published at a certain point in time or over a certain period of time, in a fandom that is always in flux. The things that inspire us as writers may not align with the interests of the readers - or even if they do, the readers might not notice or be aware of it.

So the question is, how to reconcile the need to share your work and connect with people with the ever-changing odds of those people finding your work?

I'm not going to lie, sometimes it is extremely hard. I often feel really low and doubt myself a lot after posting, but I think I've made it to a point where I don't get too caught up on it anymore.

One key thing is to draw a distinction between the writing and posting. The writing itself should always be primarily for me, because it's my creative energy, time, and effort that goes into it. I should be able to retain that feeling of satisfaction and pride in the story itself, because if I hang my hopes on the audience and they simply don't find the fic, I will just feel like it was all wasted. The value of the fic and especially my value as a writer cannot be tied to anyone else's reaction or lack of it.

Still, the two distinct parts of the process are never completely separate for me. I'm sure they can be for some writers, but I do need that feeling of connecting with people through my creations, and the extra motivation to stick with the effort (to get through longer projects, or to start new ones).

So the second thing I do is, I try to hold on to the mindset I used to have as a kid or teen writing for my brother, my teacher, or my friends. To internalise that my readers aren't numbers on a screen, but real, human people who have taken an interest in this thing I've created. They've allowed me to share it with them and had thoughts on it (whether they put those in a comment or not). Maybe it was just a moment's diversion for them, or maybe it actually moved them. Either way, we connected for a while.

Here, I must acknowledge again that I am incredibly privileged. I've got a handful of regulars who have been reading me since August 2021, and another handful who have jumped on board along the way. Many of them not only read but also comment on what I post. Even that latest two-parter I mentioned at the start has 19 comment threads, and I'm fully aware of how rare and precious that is.

But the fact remains that the contrast to my first fic has still been an adjustment, and I find that thinking about engagement in terms of people rather than numbers has helped me put it into perspective.

I could never find a room full of people to read my writing in real life, but there they are, reading it on their phones or computers and leaving twenty hits on my fic. Every person leaving kudos is basically equivalent to my teacher returning my notebook with that single check mark that meant "I read this and I enjoyed it." As for the individual comments, they aren't too different from my very small group of friends in high school telling me they loved something and couldn't wait for more. In a way, they're even more amazing, because these people don't even know me, but they are still investing their time and emotions into my fics!

Of course this mindset also has its pitfalls. I often feel like I'm letting people down by not writing faster, for example, but that's just one more thing I need to work on. All in all, I feel like I'm definitely on to something here, so thank you for letting me share these thoughts with you!

[see-arcane]

this person who posted in the tags that you do "weird flanderization of Jonathan who suddenly is the most feral most strongest most specialest little boy who gets to meet all of the other characters." and that "he shouldn't be in the league at all" isn't because of your writing or anything but because they're mad that jonathan is taking up jekyll's spotlight in the league. i apologize on behalf of the j+h fandom they are notorious around here and now they have targeted you too.

I'll be honest, I seriously blanked on what post you could be talking about because my eyes kind of glazed over mid-rant when I was scrolling past it. (My pretty pink eye is always open but it doesn't always pay attention, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

On that note, I've mentioned before what my reaction to people/media being jerks about Jonathan Harker is *--

*Spoilers: It means I make even more gratuitously indulgent Jonathan Harker content. I'm making a whole monster AU sequel novel centered around the guy for crying out loud.

--and that was well before I started churning out fanfic for the LXGF comic that Does Not Exist Yet about the myriad public domain characters who are owned by no one, but who are, to the best of my knowledge, being written in a way that realistically grows from the canon of the books they come from. On that point, if their main issue is the League of Extraordinary Gentlefolk and my premature bootleg scribbling about the same, feat. Jonathan Harker? I guess it needs repeating (as it is made very clear on the comic's blog itself):

This is not Alan Moore's comic! The closest resemblance is the name! It is not, nor was it ever planned to be, a direct child of Alan Moore's work! Nor of any movie or musical or series or adaptation!

The characters and their potential adventures are based on what we can take from the actual books!

Which are being read en masse at this point by all the writers involved, as we love nothing more than inflicting book club after book club on ourselves. Anyway.

This isn't worth a meatier rant, honestly. Ditto for anyone's griping about how we're not catering specifically to their version of Jekyll and Hyde, or how they want the comic to be done, or how they want anyone who dares to write a story involving public domain characters to mimic their favorite adaptation or spinoff. None of the things they're complaining about are being made for them. They're being made by people who want those stories to exist for themselves and for anyone else who might like to see their stories. That's it.

I will say that I honestly hope they can get past whatever hang-up they have about these characters and their hobby of trying to shout or wheedle everyone else into playing along with their mean-spirited takes.

Because looking at the wider fandoms of all these classic literature and comic book fans? This person seems to be one lone sourpuss stamping their feet while everyone else is being chill or excited about their own stuff. Some have even done the easy thing and, you know, blocked the blogs/tags that upset them. I do it all the time. It's probably been done to me. I don't know and I don't care that I don't know.

I sincerely want this person to get to that headspace too. If only so they can find their way back to the point of being a fan, which is having fun with the content they enjoy rather than seeking out projects and people to throw bile at.