#the story is so fucking cringe good God I read a better fanfic than whatever the fuck that game has

[linklethehistorian]

🤗

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

Oh gosh, a lot of things, really; in fact, there are so many things I could say that I’ll probably miss a few along the way as I’m writing this, and have to add to it in reblogs in the future.

For now, though, let’s see…

(Full answer under the cut for length)

1. Ignore the naysayers.

I know, I know — this advice probably sounds cliché and basic as fuck, but hear me out.

One of the most important things I ever started to learn as a writer — and still continue to do so in new and crucial ways, as time marches on and I gain more experience — was the value of not giving a shit about the naysayers.

When I was younger, I used to let the criticism of everyone — both constructive and destructive — live rent free in my head all day, every day, and obsess over making sure that my works were always as picture-perfect, innocent, and problem-free as anyone else told me they should be.

It was the biggest mistake I ever made, it made my life and my hobby a living hell, and looking back, it is the one thing I genuinely and thoroughly regret the most about any of my older works.

To explain this in better detail, here’s a little story-time for you:

When I was little, I would always have my Aunt telling me, “You shouldn’t write stories that are so dark, and [series I was writing for] isn’t meant to be so dark and ugly.” or, “It’s not healthy; there’s something wrong with you if you like writing things like this. You must enjoy things being hurt because then you get to feel good about helping and protecting them. It’s sick; you’re like those disgusting mothers who poison their kids so they can get pity and attention from it.” So, I would hesitate to write any major level of angst in my stories from that point forward.

Then, when I wrote a somewhat less “dark” story, she would tell me, for example, “No. You can’t have the Mom be in the wrong for what she did in this story. She was just looking out for her kid, and right to stop him from making friends. The kid is in the wrong and he needs to pay the consequences of his actions. Rewrite it.” So, I started re-writing it, but then quickly lost my passion and eventually abandoned it completely.

After that, I would eventually try to write a story for a different fandom — a book I loved dearly — and she told me, “Oh god, not that. That story is so stupid; you’re too old to like that, anyway.” Depressed and feeling stupid for ever even wanting to write it, I then abandoned that idea, too, before I’d even gotten past the first page.

If I tried to write multiple stories at once, swapping between them whenever I had writer’s block on the other, she would tell me, “Write one story at a time! Real authors don’t do that!” And if I complimented something in a book I read, saying that “as a writer myself, I really enjoy this”, she would quickly snap, “you’re not a real writer.” As a result, I stopped writing multiple books, even if I had the inspiration for them, and for a long time, I stopped daring to even call myself a writer.

Because I listened to someone who wanted to control and ensure that whatever I wrote would stay purely to her personal tastes, values, and interests, I let so many ideas that could have been born into the world die before they’d even taken their first breath and allowed myself to stay feeling inadequate and irrelevant. Would some of them have sucked? Would most of them have been cringe in some shape or form? Yes. I’m sure they would. But…I would rather have had those sucky, cringy books exist than to never get to see what I would have created — to never get to find the bits of good and overall interesting premises that yes, would also have come to be through each and every one of them.

I can never stress this enough, but please, new fanfic writers and even just writers in general: DON’T be like young me; don’t listen to the naysayers in your life who tell you that you shouldn’t write whatever the hell you want, however the hell you want, and whenever the hell you want. Do not let them get in your headspace over anything.

The thing you need to know about these people who tell you that what you want to write is “problematic”, “boring”, “uncreative”, or “cringe” in some way, and that you shouldn’t do it for your own good and reputation, is that they are all just like my Aunt: that is to say, they do not genuinely care about you or what is in your best interest — they are not genuinely trying to protect you or steer you on the right, most healthy path. Yes, they may claim that they do care and want the best for you, and to some extent, they may even think that they do, but at the end of the day, when push comes to shove, what they really want most is just to control you, so that they can stop you from creating content that they dislike and don’t want to have to see. Thus, rather than doing the actually healthy thing by learning to curate their own experiences in life and teach those around them that it is fundamentally okay to not share the same interests and opinions with everyone around you, they choose to guilt trip you and manipulate you into believing you are the one who is in the wrong, and who needs to be re-educated to recognize the dangerous non-conformists who may look like they are just minding their own business and hurting no one, but are definitely abusing and/or encouraging abuse to real live people and animals behind the scenes. (Because they write about the topic, so it must mean they commit or at least condone these things in real life, too, right? /sarcasm)

I promise you that these kinds of people and their moral grandstanding over things that aren’t even real in this world is far more harmful and genuinely problematic than anything fictional you could ever imagine and write or draw, and that if you went to an actual, licensed therapist and asked them their opinion on the matter, they would undoubtedly confirm that with no hesitation.

It may seem harmless on the outside to give in to one of their demands — that it’s not worth the fight, but I promise you, if you give them an inch, they’ll take a mile. It will keep extending further and further from one thing to the next until there is basically no longer anything you are “allowed” to write or draw that isn’t one or two universally accepted “completely healthy” pairings, in “completely healthy and happy, ideal” settings, in which nothing even remotely bad or mildly disquieting ever happens or is said — if you can even do that.

And this applies to more than just tropes, genres, characters, ships, plots, or what have you — these controlling people will exist about other things, too, and they must be ignored the same.

There will be people out there who will tell you that fanfic writing isn’t as good, fulfilling or creative as writing original works. It is bullshit — bullshit that, if not based on an intentional desire to control and manipulate your actions, is at the very least born of the incorrect and extremely biased belief that fanfic writing doesn’t count as “real writing”; ignore it, and do not feel pushed to create wholly original works if that is not what you already want for yourself and are passionate about.

There will be people out there who will give you so-called “writing advice” which tells you that you must never do a certain thing (such as using a certain phrase, perspective, or writing style) regardless of circumstance, and that if you do, that’s automatically a negative thing and makes you unprofessional and a bad or fake writer; ignore them the same. The reality is that many famous beloved authors of the world have either intentionally or unintentionally ignored certain so-called “rules” of writing and are still enjoyed and loved all the same — and sometimes even all the more because of that particular, unique, characteristic ‘style’ they created in doing so.

Constructive criticism can be great and help you grow leaps and bounds on your journey, but that’s the key thing about it; it has to be constructive, and furthermore, what may be typically considered constructive for one person may not be for another. If something is negatively effecting your headspace and making you more miserable and unhappy for having experienced it, that is not constructive — it is destructive, and you need to either find a way to make peace with it and be better for it, or cut it out of your life.

If you don’t want any criticism towards your writings, then try your best to communicate that nicely and outright to your readers; most nice communities (especially AO3) will largely accept that, and those that don’t can and should be blocked or ignored.

2. Realize that someday, you are probably going to look back at your old works and think that they are very cringe, and that that is perfectly okay. Remember how I said “ignore the naysayers”? Well, that applies to you, too; remember that you are almost always your own worst critic, and that if you let that hold you back, you will miss out on a lot of good things and experiences in life, too, as well as depriving other people of that privilege through what you could create.

If there is something you want to write, then write it; don’t sit back and overthink all of the potential negatives to doing so until you’ve talked yourself out of the idea, and it never comes to be.

Yes, it is very likely that someday all of the fics you are writing now — even the ones you love the absolute most — someday will be things you will look back on and, in some manner or form, think are “cringe”, but that is okay. It is okay even if you think it is cringe now; don’t be afraid of being ‘cringe’. Cringe culture is dead, as it rightfully should be, and you don’t need to try to resurrect it out of guilt or self-depreciation.

Not only is it a sign of growth for you as a writer to be able to look back on something and say to yourself, “wow, that’s something I would never do if I wrote this today”, but it’s also important to remember that just because something may be cringe or outdated to you and your current style, that doesn’t mean that there isn’t someone else to whom that very creation means the world or massively brightens their day.

Don’t delete your old works. Don’t prevent yourself from writing new ones by gaslighting yourself into believing they aren’t good or valid. Don’t hold yourself back from experimenting with new things that you may want to try just because it may turn out a disaster; that’s the only way to grow and learn. Don’t be afraid to be derivative or “uncreative” by writing something that’s just barely different from the source material, if that’s what you enjoy. Don’t be afraid to be repetitive by creating five thousand slight variations on the same story or trope; not only is that a valid thing to do, but there are also many people out there who are looking for exactly that.

All in all, just, don’t let you hold yourself back from something you genuinely want to do and will enjoy — in writing or drawing.

3. Don’t pay attention to the numbers. This can be a hard one to stick to, but it’s very important. All too often, we end up getting stuck comparing ourselves to others and the success that they have, instead of enjoying what’s right in front of us, and it’s not healthy or good — not for ourselves, and not even for others around us.

While it may be tempting to pick up the pen and try to write for a more popular series, trope, character, or pairing and rake in some of that sweet, sweet instant gratification with the big numbers, it’s important to remember that not only do those numbers not matter in the grand scheme of things, but also that nothing that is big and popular ever simply started out as being big and popular — and nothing else will ever have hope of joining that list of big and popular if you aren’t willing to take the first or another step in making it so.

That big ship you’re thinking of right now that gets all the kudos, comments, bookmarks, subscriptions, and hits that you wish your fic had? It didn’t start out that big. The most popular and successful fic of all in the biggest fandom you know? It didn’t start out as the most popular or successful; it started out just like your fic did when you first posted it, like your ship did when it first came into being by the first person to think of it. 

Things can only gain traction if they have people behind them, loving them, creating for them, and engaging with them, and every person who gives up on them because they’re not popular enough is one less chance that thing had at eventually becoming popular, just as that biggest ship or fic out there needs people who love it to keep engaging with it and standing by it in order for it to remain “the most popular”.

What you love desperately needs you, and you do make a difference for it; don’t turn your back on it and end up doing something that doesn’t make you happy — or at least that makes you less happy — just because it isn’t popular or doing the numbers right now. Someday it might be. Until then, be the change you want to see in the world.

The fic that I’ve written which I love the very most and have worked on the most and the longest is also the most obscure and niche one of them all — and yet, it did gain something of an audience of its own. It is beloved by more people than I ever anticipated it would be, because I didn’t give up on it — because I made it happen and dedicated myself to continuing that, and it can only grow more popular the longer that I do.

You can make your dreams come true, one step at a time. So don’t give up.

4. Write things based on what you love, not what you hate. Obviously, this is advice that requires nuance and extra consideration based on the individual situation, but as a general rule, I feel that this is a very overlooked and yet very valuable piece of advice for all sides of a given matter.

I’m not saying that is always wrong or even completely impossible to write about something you wholly and purely hate, and still have it come out a good and positive thing to put out into the world, but the trouble with writing about something you completely despise — or for which you even just plain feel nothing but a general dislike — is that it is very, very hard to remain unbiased in doing so, and therefore highly increases the chance that you will create an extremely negative misrepresentation of that thing in some way.

If you absolutely must write about something you hate, I strongly advise that you at least tag it as a hate fic and/or (preferably and) put a disclaimer before the fic stating outright that it is such, that you hate or dislike it, and that as a result you may not be capable of accurately representing that thing in every way.

As someone who has accidentally read fics of this nature before about something that I hold very dear, I can tell you firsthand that it is not the least bit enjoyable to go into the tags of your favorite ship or character and stumble upon an untagged, self-congratulating hate fic that pats itself on the back for how ‘accurate’ it is, with no regard or warning for people who actually love or at least enjoy the character or ship.

I, for example, never wrote a fic centered purely around Paul Verlaine and his character pre-Storm Bringer because, at the time, he was the character I just loved to hate; I had nothing good to say about him as an individual, and writing a fic about only him purely for the sake of shitting on him would have been an extremely terrible use of my time and energy, and of the time of people going into the tag for his character looking for nice, or at least accurate, representations of him. Now that I have a better understanding of him and can appreciate all aspects of him — not just the negative — I am happy to write about him, but, I would never write a fic just about Fukuchi in the present moment, because in that same vain as before, I have nothing positive or interesting or wholly true to contribute about him in his tag (not to mention I’m not really particularly interested in him to begin with).

All in all, while I’m not saying you can’t or shouldn’t do it if you’re willing to give the proper tags and disclaimers, I promise it’s really just not worth your time or energy, when you could be spending it instead on something you love.

And if you do write a hate fic and you don’t tag or at least give it a disclaimer, well, make sure that you at least state outright you don’t want constructive criticism, or else you shouldn’t be surprised if you end up with people who frequent those tags telling you that you’re not writing the character or ship accurately, because it will probably happen sooner or later.

5. Somewhat related to the end paragraphs of advices 1 and 4, don’t ask for constructive criticism if you don’t want it, and make it clear if you absolutely don’t. While most people — especially on AO3 — will not just submit criticism, constructive or otherwise, on a fic unless you make it absolutely clear that you actively want it, if you truly want to avoid having criticism submitted to your fic for any reason, it is best to state that you would prefer positive comments only (especially if your writing community is one that does leave criticism a lot), as it will save you a lot of trouble.  Likewise, if you do want more than the usual amount of criticism, you should feel free to ask for it, but please make sure that this is truly what you want, or else you may not like what you receive. 

I have encountered fic writers in the past who request, “please tell me what you honestly thought of the fic!”, only to then later delete any and all constructive criticism that their readers take the time to leave them. Please do not do this; it is a waste of time and energy not just for you, but for your commenters, as well. If you don’t want something, don’t communicate to others that you do.

6. Be as passionate as you want; don’t worry about being ‘normal’ about your interests. I know this is technically related to the third bit of advice, but seriously, what is normal is completely subjective to the individual and it is also completely overrated. Don’t sit stressing about if you act ‘normal’ or like something ‘a normal amount’; go crazy with it! Be over-ambitious about your creations and your interests! Make as much content as you want for it, spread it across all mediums if you desire! Make a music playlist that ties into it! Make a blog centered all around it! Post regular updates and exclusive content like it’s famous! I did all of this and more for one of my fics, and I’ve had the time of my life with it.

Embrace your inner overenthusiastic eccentric and have fun. That’s what hobbies and fandom are all about.

7. Be kind and supportive to yourself and others wherever you can, and mind your own business when you can’t. It’s unfortunate, but many times in life, when we get caught up in the rush of things and the height of excitement or negative emotions, we can forget to show kindness, love, and understanding to ourselves and to others. It’s important to remember to take a deep breath now and again, and consider those needs and feelings that we would otherwise ignore.  The schedules we sometimes create for ourselves are amazing, and they can help us keep on track, but they aren’t the end-all, be-all to writing and being a writer; don’t obsess over them and let them run your life or expect other writers to uphold them all of the time, either. Taking breaks for your mental, emotional, and physical health is so, so important and so necessary, and it’s something we all should be able to do judgement-free from time to time when we need it.

And furthermore, remember that just as you have your own interests, so do your other fellow writers in the world; sometimes they may move on and change fandoms, or have fictional interests that you don’t like or agree with. It’s important in those times to realize that that is okay, and that they are valid. It’s important to be able to say to yourself, “it’s not my business”, respect their right to do what they love, and move on to something that is your business and that you do love, yourself. Don’t harass or insult other writers in the heat of the moment over something that isn’t your business or they didn’t ask you to negatively comment on, and if somehow you do, make sure you apologize and learn from that mistake going forward.

Fandom is a big place, and there’s room in it for us all to co-exist and thrive.

—

Send me another emoji and I’ll tell you about myself as a fic writer.

[nightwhite13]

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[maddiefriendlovesbilly]

TW/CW: Ranting, use of caps/text yelling, mentions/discussions of depression, suicidal thoughts, low self-esteem, and cringe-culture, no language indicators (everything is /genuine), large chunks of text which may be hard for some to read (please lmk if anyone would like a bulleted or split up version /gen), complicated words and concepts (again, please lmk if anyone would like a version w simpler words or more explanations!! /gen!!!)

Topic: Writing, Cringe-Culture, and Freedom to Express Yourself

Not to get like, personal and serious on this silly YouTube roleplay side-blog but here’s some writing advice for you writers out there. Literally no one will notice if you put two “-ly” words in your story.

As long as you are using basic sentence variation in your story — aka complex sentence, compound sentence, simple sentence, compound sentence again, repeat in a pattern that seems to get your point across best (long sentences are best for describing situations or when a character is rambling, simple sentences are best for times that you want your words to punch the reader in the face with words alone or crush their little hearts while cackling maniacally) — nobody other than pompous gits will notice if you say “Oh, he thought, wishing desperately for something to do with his hands.” Because no one actually nitpicks stuff like that if they’re properly immersed in your story (obviously beta readers are different, they’ve been paid to look for your mistakes lol). (more below the Keep Reading. Warning!! Triggering topics/actions start right here! :] <3!!!)

And even if you DO fuck up and put a couple too many “ly” words or too many “he said/she saids?” WHO CARES. THAT IS THE POINT OF WRITING. TO IMPROVE. MAKE SHITTY SELF-INSERT FICS. WRITE FANFICTION TO PRACTICE. WRITE A REALLY BAD ORIGINAL STORY ABOUT OVERPOWERED OCS WHO YOU’VE HAD SINCE YOU WERE ELEVEN. EVERY TIME YOU WRITE YOU IMPROVE. IF YOU LOVE SOMETHING ENOUGH TO DEDICATE HOURS OF YOUR LIFE TO IT YOU DESERVE TO LOOK BACK ON IT AND SAY “I made this thing out of love. By making this I made someone happy, and that someone was me. I deserve to be proud of this, because I worked hard on it.”

NEVER regret your old shitty writing. NEVER regret your current writing. Yes, you can spend hours nitpicking every detail and every word like I used to. But you have years to figure out your writing style; years to gauge whether you like first or third or second person POV — or even something else entirely — best; years to experiment and and learn and love new and different things. You will improve, it is an inevitable, inescapable part of being human, being alive.

So please, please write whatever you want, whenever you want. Write cringe! Write badly! Write poorly planned out stories!! If it makes YOU happy, who fucking cares what some bozo using the anonymity of a faceless online profile to bash your earnest, hard work about something you care about says? Why do THEY have any right to your happiness? Your self-esteem? Do what makes you happy, even if it’s bad, or self-indulgent, or god-forbid “““cringey.””” You know what’s cringey? A grown ass adult human being who knows better making fun of someone working hard to improve a skill, or simply enjoying the freedom that writing gives. You have the gift to create. No one starts out writing like a pro. Don’t let others shame you out of expressing yourself in a healthy way that brings you joy.

This is one of the many reasons I have left several nearly untouched, original records of my fic A Small Slice of Ethereal P.I.E, which was written of the course of two years. I am PROUD of how lackluster and empty and basic the beginning of that fic is in comparison to the final chapter — I was fucking 15 years old, had undiagnosed depression and anxiety, and it was the first piece of writing I ever loved enough to finish even after two years, of course it was BAD. It was utter SHIT dude! I was coping with heavy amounts of trauma through a safe, comforting medium through a character I related to deeply. I’m alive because of that fic. It kept me going until I could get help. If writing does that for you; if you think “I don’t want to wake up tomorrow, but if I don’t, then I can’t write that fanfic/story/oneshot/daydream I’ve always wanted to/haven’t completed/dream of publishing one day” then cling to that. Use it. Whatever keeps you going til tomorrow.

Your passions, your interests, have value. I’m so sorry if anyone has made you feel that they don’t. I’m sorry if people have told you your writing isn’t good enough to keep making. Every piece you make is a gift to yourself. I guarantee there are people out there who will. Who do. Even if it’s only future you. Even if it’s only current you. Your joy, fleeting or not, is worth more than you could ever imagine.

Keep writing. For you. Not for anyone else, because you deserve to. You deserve to love something passionately. You deserve to write poorly. You deserve to love what you make anyways. This got a little out of hand, I didn't really mean to say all this, but I feel it's important to my point so whatever haha. seriously though, if anyone wants me to delve further into any of the topics discussed here, especially about sentence variation and where to use complex, compound, and simple sentences in a paragraph/scene/description or what POV to use for the type of story/scene you want to convey to your reader, I'd be literally over the moon lmao. I LOVE talking about the importance of cadence and impact, and how it basically overrides basic grammatical rules like "he said/she said" and "-ly words" and "remove every 'was' in your story." Alright, I'll stop pestering y'all now haha, both my ask box and my dms are open if you want to ask any questions about this!

[the-blind-geisha]

Oof, I was gonna vent, but neh. I don’t want to give that person the satisfaction of it.

All I can say is: I’m here in this fandom to stay. I’m sorry that enrages you as you continue to compare your success to mine, but you need to get over it. I say these things because--believe it or not--by gods above, do I feel sorry for you. However, as everyone has told me, I shouldn’t feel bad for my success just because of how you act. 

So here’s some hot tips for you:

My advice(s) to you:

Stop checking the latest stories tabs on AO3. You’re only doing it to throw kudos around and comments in hopes of getting readers on your fic. If checking the latest new Overlord stuff really upsets you because you see one of my many fics there, then stop. You see my comments/ kudos/ ect and this frustrates you. I know it does given how I see you act when I update that fic. This is the healthiest thing you can do. Just sub to peoples’ stories and move on.

Instead of using your dummies to build yourself up, you could focus on bettering your writing. I’ve had a few people tell me that about you, and I have to agree this is the way. You’ve been writing for 10 years? Cool. I’ve been writing for double that. I’ve been writing since 1993, and I wrote nearly every day of my life. It’s like art--you have to work constantly at it. I religiously got into hopeless fanfic writing when I was in elementary school and kept going with it ever since pre-internet days. I only had random students in my classes and my friends ask to read my stuff. (This is comic stuff I’d do but.. the idea is the same. lol)

Just write. You don’t even have to post it to gain some sort of agreement from the outside world ‘you’re doing good’. Just write for you. Don’t write in hopes someone beyond yourself will like it. Take a chance and run with it.

Take a break. Step away from fanfiction writing and do something else. Draw more. Play games. Watch streams or something. Whatever. Hell, I never expected people would like my writing. I always wanted people to like my art more, but that got turned upside down on its head the more I wrote fanfics. People just love my writings more or my comics, because again--I’m telling a story with my works. You cannot control what the outside world is going to like more from you. Take chances. Run with it.

Understand that your friends aren’t going to love everything you make. I even have some that refuse to read Devil’s Contract because of the rape and abuse in it. This is more than understandable. I value their health over my views. I can only assume this side of you is dead and buried, but in case it’s not: know your friends have tastes. They’re not going to magically support you just because you’re friends now. Let them just support you from a distance if something isn’t to their liking. They shouldn’t have to comment on every update you make. They have lives and boundaries.

Your magnum opus isn’t going to be just so. You need to keep writing just to make things better. Your story that you think is the best--trust me--it’ll be a cringe fest when you look back on it in a few years. I have so many fics that I thought ‘this is amazing, and I cannot outdo myself’.... and then 2 years later, I look back and go ‘oh gods’...

Take advice from your friends you admire. They’re there to help you. And, trust me, they want to help you.

Hope these little tips help you get over this slump where you continue to compare yourself to me. =/ I see you doing it. You need to stop. You can get better at this. You just need tough as fuck love, and I feel I’m the only one who is brave enough to give it to you.

[pact-mom-kyrie]

Hey after a year I wrote a thing. I called it “Brooding nerds“ because is about Alesso (sniper, priest of Grenth) being broody after the event of Hall of Chains. He got some weird powers because hey, he had been dead once before, in Queensdale. He feels alienated. Fron his brothers, from the guild, from everything. So his brother Enzo (mesmer, nerd) goes to talk to him.

Shout out to @disaster-bi-canach for always being there. I mention her main Sinéad here. Go and read all her stuff. Is really good.

Also HAPPY FANFIC DAY!!!

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The nights on Istan were cold, or at least the wind blowing up Champion’s Dawn made him feel like it. The little town was gleaming under the moonlight, pretty like a painting with Churrhir cliffs beyond. 

This was the ancient homeland, thought Alesso. Or at least part of it. He was not knowledgeable enough about the story of Zephaniah, he has bearely heard the story of his ancestor, the man he had only known as Zephare. The only thing he knew for sure was what Koss had said to him: “Another touched by the gods?! By Dwayna, never knew a child of Zephaniah could get this pale, huh?”

Somehow it hurt. But he didn’t say anything. Koss seemed like the kind of nosy grandpa he had never known. Salva noticed though and glared at the old man. Somehow the judgmental gaze of sweet, kind Salvatore made him feel guilty, or at least act like it.

It felt nice, but it was not enough to make him feel better.

That was the reason behind him being sit down, brooding on his own in a cliff, reaper-forged rifle by his side. He had given the excuse of going up just to shoot any awakened that dared come close to the town. But there were none, otherwise, he would have seen them walking through the plains or the breach… that was kilometers away.

Such accuracy was unnatural.

“The eyes of a god” Maesta said while they were in the Priory. He only thought it was about the fact that now they shone like embers, but he realized soon enough that it was something more terrible than that.

When he shot an awakened soldier.

From the cliffs.

With his eyes closed.

“Now you’re just fuckin’ cheatin’ partner” Exclaimed Johnny, his voice a mixture of anger and excitement. 

Alesso knew that yeah, he was cheating. But he couldn’t stop it. He had been dead twice, and that allowed him to gain some weird boon, and it felt extremely weird. After all, who else could say they had held a tiny bit of that kind of power?

All of sudden, a portal appeared by his side, and from its glimmering depths, a figure appeared. Tall and aristocratic.

“Good evening, little brother, nice weather for alienated brooding isn’t it?” Lorenzo has managed, after all their years as adventurers, perfected the art of princely sneer. Alesso glared at him, but could only mumble a weak curse. Years ago, he would have said “Yeah, fuck you”, and close himself up. But not now. Not like before.

“Don’t you have an entire observatory to read? Or did you run out of paper for interviewing zombie grandpa?”

The mesmer almost laughed, but he just gasped as if scandalized “Don’t call Koss Dejarin like that, young man” he faked the intonation of a scolding mother “he is not your grandpa!”

Alesso snorted, his devilish laughter barely escaping his lips “So you’re accepting he is a zombie, right?”

“Well, to be honest...” Enzo got lost in thought for a second, half-joking, half-serious “Awakened have peculiar characteristics, and have different needs from other types of risen-type creature, so they belong to their own category in Howard’s classification of unde-”

“You fucking nerd” The sniper rolled his eyes, huffing slightly “Whatever, tell everyone I’m ok, just thinking of stuff and… stuff”

The redhead sighed deeply and sat down, looking slightly distraught. “Oh no, I came here because I am worried, you little twerp. You’ve been way too quiet and sullen. That is not normal”

“What is normal then?” Claimed Alesso, wiggling a bit far from his brother. He was slightly scared, not ready to face any of his siblings, and tried to mask his fear with annoyance.

It wasn’t working.

“You being with us, smiling when no one looks, competing with Johnny over shots, praying for the fallen of Elona, just...” Enzo looked down, into the town “not like this, not as if we still were the same idiots running around Queensdale”

Alesso winced. Queensdale. It had been five years, it used to feel like a month ago, and now it felt like yesterday.

“Gyro behaved the same when I came back this time. He checked my pulse, he looked at my pupils, almost asked me for a blood test, as if he believed I was… as if I am-”

“You are not dead, Alessandro Zeppeli” The voice of Enzo broke a bit as if he was trying not to sob “You re here, with us. Still the same fool that tried to wrestle a spider queen, still the same child that broke into the home of Thomas Silvertogue to learn how to be a spy”

Those words felt like a knife stabbing his heart. Lorenzo was not the kind of man who broke easily, even if his emotions were there for everyone to see. It was not simple nostalgia, but a sort of awed reminiscence, and Alesso could not help to feel it too. 

“I’m scared” He murmured. It would have been better if he didn’t remember the last time he had said that. The sight of the ashes of Commander Steinbrecher in an urn, the greatest hero of all Tyria, had sunken his heart into the abyss of terror.

“I know” Enzo replied softly “The letter you gave me. Maesta… she wrote about everything”

Alesso lowered his head, feeling smaller. Silent in his own uncertainty. He had a snarky comment ready, but he felt too tired to say it. He was tired of hiding his thoughts behind the words of an asshole.

His brother sighed “You didn’t read it” It was not a question “You had a letter from a noble of Kryta, an agent of the Shining Blade, and didn’t even peek under the seal, knowing it may have some valuable intel. Thank you”

“What? She is my friend. Besides I don’t know if she had enchanted it or something” the thief tried to explain, not ready to show how much he cared about their relationship “Also I don’t wanna read the correspondence of someone whom actually thinks you are hot enough to fuck”

Lorenzo scoffed, no doubt rolling his eyes. “There were no details of that kind if you are interested, dear brother. Actually...” His tone changed to a more solemn one “She was asking for an explanation about… the way I said goodbye in Lion’s Arch”

The sniper raised his gaze. That was not a good memory, if anything, it was extremely awkward to remember Enzo being a jerk towards anyone, more so the woman he loved. “Did she break up with you via letter? I mean you mocked her for being emotional...”

“I am perfectly aware of what I did and I am ready to face punishment for my actions” Once more, the princely manners return “but that is not the point, as a matter of fact, the letter made me realize that we have something in common”

“That we deserve a slap for being assholes in serious moments?” Alesso raised an eyebrow, cringe clawing his heart. Enzo looked surprised, not ready for such a display of painful self-awareness.

“No, not that. Maybe a bit of that, but this is something completely different. Something we cannot… solve, so to speak” Enzo looked above them, gazing at the starry sky, “She wrote you were given a portion of Grenth’s power. As well as she did, but since you’ve been to his realm twice, your abilities got… stronger”

The eyes of a god. The reason for his accuracy, his eyes changing, now gleaming in the darkness. 

“Here is the question, Alesso: do you think you’re the only one who has felt the power of a god running through his blood?” It was a serious question. Way too precise. He would have expected it from Salva, or from Commander Sirhasi, but not Lorenzo. Then again, he had the bad habit of underestimating Lorenzo.

“I think so. I am the only one who has been so close to the gods...” he stated with unnerving confidence “Damn now I feel like an arrogant little shit”

“Well you arrogant little shit!” the mesmer exclaimed joyfully, opening his arms “You are SO wrong I could write a whole treatise on how wrong you are. But since I love you so much, I will give you a short version: I have felt the power of a god too, and it was fucking awful”

And so, Alessandro Zeppeli, a descendant of the house of Zephaniah, Lightbringer of the Order of Whispers, opened his mouth and gasped like a fish out of water. Because he had no idea what his brother was talking about.

“W- what? When? Why?!” He almost yelled, more confused than ever. He looked all around him, somehow waiting for someone to appear, to confirm it was all a joke at his expense.

“Do you remember the battle in Lion’s Arch against the minions of Zhaitan?” 

How would he forget that? He had spent days with Ihan and Joseph cleaning the city, trying to heal his sadness with risen’s blood. Until Commander Sirhasi asked if he was alright and he ended up crying like the child he was into the norn woman’s bosom.

“Yes, that face tells me that you do” Enzo whispered. Maybe lost in his own memories of those awful times. “Steward Gixx told Magisters Irene and Gialinn to help him with a relic of Balthazar. He thought that someone had to wield its power and since it was a human god...”

“It had to be a human, and there were no other nerds close to you” he muttered.

“Yes. I had to carry a part of the spirit of a god of fire, fury, and mass murder. As powerful as I felt, it was not a good experience. I thought nothing of it later, just a weird experience in an extremely hard time. Until Balthazar returned..” he lowered his head, while Alesso put the pieces together in his head.

“Whatever remained of the fucker within you, resonated with him, then” The sniper stated, only understanding the implications a second later “So your behavior, the fire that sometimes escaped from your illusions… that was Balthazar...”

Enzo nodded “Yes. One time I spat molten embers, one night I cried fire, and sometimes I just wanted to kill someone. Anyone. And I hid it all from everyone but my colleagues of the Priory”

“Well shit, even I didn’t saw that coming, except the part when you almost scared Cesare to death, of course,” Alesso looked at his brother, making him recoil slightly “Did you use your illusions to hide? Because you are good, but not that good”

“You rude prick. I happen to be that good” Lorenzo sneered “I was scared of any of you realizing it, I didn’t want you t think I was going to join the Zaishen or something like that”

Alesso moved closer to his brother “I get it... but if there was anyone of us who would have joined that prick, it would have been anyone but you” he saw the mesmer smiling, moved by his trust “After all, the stick in your ass wouldn’t let you bend the knee towards that monster”

“Fuck off” the strange laughter of Enzo pierced the night, sounding like a weird harpy in the cliffs “The point is: you are not alone, dumbass. Your god loved you. Maybe all that happened is sad, and I cannot imagine how you feel about it but...” He sighed and hugged Alesso from the side “You are still out little brother. The one who creeps us out because he looks a lot like dad. You’re part of the best and strongest guild in Tyria. The weirdest guy of the whole Pact...”

Now it was the turn of Alesso to laugh, like a tiny devil mocking Champion’s Dawn “I get it, you old cheesy geezer” He returned the hug, and felt his loneliness fading away “Thank you, really”

“I know, I am amazing. You are welcome” The fake pride of Lorenzo was even worse than his stupid smile, and he knew it “No, but in all seriousness, it is alright. You can tell me every time you feel bad about your existential crisis, at least regarding your godly issues. You’re my brother, and we are very similar....”

“Ew. Don’t remind me that. Makes me wanna hide under a rock” Alesso broke the hug, stood up, and took his rifle before looking up to the sky, smiling “Maybe Grenth is gone but... I feel I can still carry his will as long as I am with you, my family... bunch of losers” 

Lorenzo also stood up, stretching his back “You better. Without you, we wouldn’t be as good as we are. Also, I wouldn’t be able to fulfill my main familial obligation without you”

Knowing what kind of obligation he was talking about, Alesso sneered and said a single sentence. “To keep Cesare humble? Alright. Seems all this ‘Hero of Three Nations’ thing has started to go to his head, do you have a plan?”

The redhead smiled, malice covering his face “Oh yes, it includes portals. Lots of portals” he stated while opening one by their side.

“I may have an idea, but you lead the way”

The two brothers entered the shimmering pond of light, and for a moment there was nothing but peaceful silence in Istan.

Until the shriek of a heroic guardian pierced the night.

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

Why Fanfiction?

Hey guys. Okay, so, a few weeks ago one of my coworkers asked me this question. And it has been bothering me ever since. 

Y’see, there’s this problem about explaining fanfiction, or fandom for that matter, to people who have never been a part of this culture. And, no, I don’t think that culture is too grandiose a term. The problem is everyone wants to rationalize fanfiction, justify its existence. Anyone who is not a part of fandom, literally any fandom, wants you to explain why you use your time this way, why you create this way, and why you feel entitled to do so. People struggle over basic things like creation existing outside of monetary gain or copyright, but even that’s not the intrinsic thing outside people don’t understand. 

I spent minutes trying to explain to my coworkers why as they pestered me with the same series of comments we’ve all been called to answer a hundred times before, “Why do you do that?” “But it’s not yours!””Who don’t you write your own work?” “That character wouldn’t do that!” etc, etc. And between trauma flashbacks to 2004 when I was 12 years old and we had the wars of What Is And Is Not In Character, I realized what the problem is: fanfiction is for fun. 

That’s it, plain and simple. I do it because it’s fun. You do it too! You draw or write or read or make or remix or whatever! You participate because it’s fun! That’s really all there is to it. And you and I don’t ask for more reason than that. But I was talking to outsiders. 

And here I should explain that I work in a college. I was talking to academics. Hell, I am an academic, I teach college English. And English professors, god help me, English professors are the absolute WORST at justifying fanfiction. You get two flavors of English professor when it comes to fandom: 1) that’s stealing or 2) that’s deconstruction. If the first, fuck you, I don’t have time for your precious proprietary sensibilities, learn what derivative means and then tell me if your near-and-dears are so goddamn original. If the second, I love ya, pal, and I know you’re trying, but you do too much. You do too much. 

For all of us in fandom, we understand that for every meta-critique, every genderqueer retelling, every better rewriting of a poorly articulated story, there are fifty hackneyed, hand-on-the-crotch, author-kink-specific "adult content” fics (Just in case tumblr got any ideas about censoring this post). And THAT’S NOT A BAD THING!

If you haven’t yet, you will meet people who will go out of their way to defend fanfiction’s literary qualities, but they Bowdlerize it! Sanitize! Clean! Purify. Intentional or not, and sometimes it is definitely intentional, many people feel that in order to justify and defend fanfiction, they must eliminate the porn, forego the smut, ignore the self-indulgent, half-crazed teenage lust that is the life’s blood of fanfiction. And that is some hypocritical, restrictive horseshit. Never mind the fan that chooses to throw the first stone, but what a fundamental misrepresentation on behalf of the authority! 

One of my favorite professors of all time offered fanfiction as an assignment option in every one of her classes. But she always did this with this fundamental misunderstanding of what fanfiction is and what it is for. Yes it CAN be incredible critical thought. Yes it CAN be a literary revolution. Yes, yes, yes. But it is not only this. And it always made me cringe to listen to her sing fanfiction’s praises without embracing all of the gutter trash that is my heritage, my home. I am by no means saying that fanfiction should not do all the meta-analysis and social critique that it can, will, and does do. But that is not all that fanficiton is nor should it be. Fanfiction is also the 18th coffeeshop AU you’ve read for the same ship. Fanfiction is also the soulmates AU for your rarepair. It’s the LOTR crossover. It’s the character death fic that serves no purpose but to make you sad. And it’s the OOC crack nightmare that you wrote at 4 am when you were 13 and don’t share with anyone, but it gave you joy to write. I will never defend fanfic without defending these also. 

And this is what my coworkers struggled with when I tried to explain. They could not accept this simple fact that fanfiction exists, primarily, for joy. And I would not treat fanfiction as high art existing only to hold a mirror up to media. Absolutely fuck that ivory tower bullshit. And they could not wrap their heads around enjoying this. 

One of them understood why I might write fic, but did not understand why I might want to read another’s. For this I can only cite his ego as the reason he would perhaps not like to read from someone else’s imagination. Another insisted that I ought to write my own work, rather than manipulate someone else’s characters. And this was someone who espoused death of the author and freedom from censorship! But still I could not convince her why it would be fun to play around in someone else’s sandbox. And the answer I gave at the time was not what I wanted it to be. I played it off as cowardice, fear of judgment about my own work. And, to be fair, that is one of the reasons I balk at original fiction, but again, fanfiction needs no justification! It is NOT second best! It is a full and legitimate art form in its own right, requiring new and different skills every bit as nuanced and delicate and time-consuming to acquire as those for any other kind of writing. Social acceptance does not make a creation good. Nor does profit or being studied by institutions. These things are accolades and easily recognized to mean value, but they themselves are not what make a creation good. You already know what does that.

And this is why it is so terribly hard to explain why fanfiction? You may as well ask why art?

[emotionalcello-makefanfics]

Ferris Wheel (Jaydick Fanfic) Part 3/3

Summary :

Dick spotted bloodstains by the Ferris wheel that trails from the bottom cabin to the very top one. What he found inside is a boy can’t be older than 15, bleeding down from the stomach, and even so, he refuses to come down from the Cabin.

“I want to see the stars, one last time, just… one last time.” The boy still muses upon the sky, mesmerized. Dick looks up, and the starless sky that’s tinted red from light pollution. Then, with great sorrow and resignation, the boy whimpers, “You ruin that from me.”

Word count : 3.8k

Part 1  2

Click link to read on AO3

Click keep reading to read on tumblr~

Dick doesn’t tell anyone that he met Jason again. He already knows how they’ll react anyway.

Whoever Jason is, there’s a probability that he ditched him. Of course, Dick didn’t come to that conclusion lightly. All he got was his first name, and he thought it was all he needed. He looked for him after his shift, a teenager named Jason around the area. It staggers him how many Jasons there were in the whole city. In the end, Dick gave up after looking for weeks and came out empty-handed.

Another possibility –and possibly the worst one for Dick– is that Jason ghosted him. As time goes on, he’s starting to believe that one more.

Every day, from the start of his shift till the end, he lingers around the Ferris wheel longer than the other rides. Hoping he’ll catch Jason snooping in again and demand an explanation. But his hope dies with time as the days go on with no signs of that teenager with sad teal eyes.

In the end, Dick has to let go of Jason and the story he kept.

“You’re going home?” Barbara stops halfway through the door after seeing Dick still in front of his locker.

“Yeah, I’m staying till opening, I’m meeting with Steph.”

“Oh, okay, tell her I say hi!”

“I will.” Dick waves as Barbara closes the door behind her, leaving Dick alone in the staff room.

That’s a lie, Dick is not meeting Steph.

After changing into his washed jeans, and covered his light blue hoodie with a worn black jean jacket, Dick strolls around the park. His feet take him to the Ferris wheel yet again. He sits by the stairs where Jason did when they last saw each other.

Blame him all you want for still hoping, but he can’t stop himself doing so, even though he had tried persistently. This place pulls him. He would be on the way home and found himself here, waiting for something even himself isn’t sure of. Just like right now. He waits and wanders as nothing happens. As usual.

The sky gradually gains it’s brightness from the black of night to daybreak indigo. The brightest point in the sky is just behind the tip of the merry go round’s roof. A flock of birds flew towards it.

Or they should’ve.

There’re black specks in the sky, like blobs on your vision or dirt on your glasses. Dick blinks a couple of times to get rid of it, but it stays. When he stood up and shakes his head, his heart thumps. It’s not dirt in his eyes. His eyes feel fine, and the dirt doesn’t follow his vision, it sticks in one place in the sky, with clouds that don’t move.

It’s a bird, pausing in mid-air. Turning around, he sees the skinny hornbeam tree beside the queue area leaning extremely sideways and froze that way, as if blown by the icy wind that made them that way. A leaf right beside the tree stops in mid-air. Curious, he touched it, but he can’t move it. A leaf in the wind that sticks like a rock stuck on a surface with power glue.

Could he be dreaming? Or has he lost his mind completely?

He doesn’t get to answer that himself when a blinding light glares from the Ferris wheel. Dick whips around to face the light source.

The Ferris wheel isn’t turned on, but a screen of blinding white light fills inside the circle structure. There’s no other sound but Dick’s breath and static electricity coming from the electric sparks jolting around the metal tubing. Nothing else moves but Dick, the lights, and the dark human silhouette inside the lights that seem to be approaching closer. It’s so bizarre that the gears in his mind just stop trying to figure out why this is happening. It’s nothing Dick has ever seen before. Maybe on the TV, but he’s not on TV, is he?

The silhouette makes itself more prominent and clearer and as that person steps out of the light and walks down the booth, Dick can’t believe his eyes and who his mind is suggesting.

The man has some bulk on his body, maturity in his demeanor, but the familiarity of his features struck Dick with one person in mind, Jason.

The last time Dick saw him, he was a teenager. Shy and boyish as he asked him out for dinner. How could that boy turn into this man that looks like reaching his 40’s with a tired look of a century-year-old man.

Cleanly shaven, his jaws look sharper from the teenager Jason. Teal eyes set even deeper into his socket, topped with thick and coarse eyebrows that knit close to each other and set low on the brow ridge. A sharper look in his eyes, yet way kinder.

Before, Jason reached a little under Dick’s height, now Jason is gaining clear inches above him. There’s a stark awkward streak of white on his bangs which slightly curls and flails as he walks. His bomber jacket looks like a worn uniform with logos patched on the right breast and upper sleeves. His red shirt underneath looks as dark as congealed blood, paired with black cargo pants, gun garters snug on his thighs and black tactical boots.

He’s either here to fight or his style is just that edgy. Either way, Dick has a projectile taser and fast hands.

The man approaches Dick with that knowing smirk like they’re old friends, but the sentiment is not returned.

“You cause me a lot of hassle,” is this Jason’s first sentence, not giving the best impression of Dick, who takes full offense of that.

“Me?” Dick feels his neck tensed raising his voice that high. “You cause me a lot of hassle. Who are you? And what the fuck is that!” Dick waved at the Ferris wheel that still has a screen of glowing light inside it. There is no way no one sees this bright light, but then again, if Dick sees it, probably no one else does.

“This is a portal,” Jason points his thumbs at the light behind him. “And I’m Jason Todd, I’m here to fix the things you’ve been seeing.”

“Wait... What I’ve been seeing?” Dick repeated with a shriek, feeling constipated at what he had to digest. “You meant Jason? And your mom? But... you’re Jason too!”

“Uh huh, you’ve been seeing multiple versions of Jasons for other universes that happen to-”

“Wait, stop, please,” Dick felt like his head got pounded with that information. It’s terrible when his friends don’t believe him, but a person that popped out of the light finally agreeing with him doesn’t feel that good either.

“Oh God, I’m really going crazy, aren’t I? Babs was right, fudge my schtick every one of them is right. I should’ve stayed on meds,” Dick whispered to himself.

“Quit that, you’re not crazy,” Jason groaned, “I know you’re taking medication on this universe too, so you better stop that. You’re not having an episode.”

“How did you even know... I... whatever,” Dick huffed defeatedly.

“Chin up pretty boy, after I do what I came here to do, you’ll be just fine.”

“And what is it that you do, other Jason?” Dick crossed his arms, glaring at Jason with a combination of pissed off and mentally tired.

“I erase anomalies. I’m here to erase all the proof of the other universe ever repeated here. I’ve already deleted the security footage. Destroying the blood sample is a difficult one, no thanks to you for getting many people involved,” Jason narrowed his eyes at Dick, and Dick doesn’t feel a tinge of guilt. “And now, finally, you.”

Dick feels little goosebumps on his neck, “You’re gonna kill me?”

“No,” Jason raises his voice and grimaces offendedly, “I need to erase the memory where you’ve met the Jasons and this,” Jason waved to himself and the Ferris wheel.

“What, no!” Dick holds his head as if his hand can protect him from any mind-erasing devices, “I... I want to meet my universe you... We agreed to have dinner together.”

Jason visibly cringes, “That didn’t happen. That’s another you with another me, that didn’t happen to you, you just feel that it happens to you because... things got fucked up!” Jason just gave up halfway of explaining, and honestly, Dick doesn’t want to know either.

“But-But I felt it happened to me! I feel the weight of his body when I carried him out one of the cabin bleeding, and your mom holding onto me and... I-” Dick choked up on his own breath. Feeling tears threatening to spill at the things Jason implied.

“I know Dick, it’s all confusing, and I believe you. You’re not crazy,” Jason calmed, his voice sounds deep and soothing. “All of that isn’t supposed to happen. Things... happened, it’s difficult to explain.”

“Then why me? Why am I the only one that sees it?”

“We don’t know, and this is actually something special we’ve never encountered before,” Jason seems annoyingly excited, “You’re the only one in this universe that can see it for how it is.”

Dick groans, “Whatever, so what are you going to do now?”

“So, I’m here to fix the fucked up things that happen to you. But this will involve you, so you get to choose how I do it.

Dick doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at Jason, and gave him his silent approval.

“You can see and experience the universe being broken, we need someone like that in our department.”

It takes a few seconds of Jason's pointed look before Dick finally catches on, “You’re offering me your job? Me? Stopping time and making Ferris wheels glow?” Dick says incredulously with an uneasy smile.

“Yeah, it’s not an easy job, but just putting it out there, we’ve been keeping an eye on you and after some consideration, we’d like to take you in to watch over this universe.”

Dick doesn’t expect Jason replying to his sarcastic question seriously, but now Dick considers it seriously.

Heh, as if.

“And if I say no?”

“I’d have to erase the anomaly to fix it, meaning you won’t remember it ever happening.”

Dick feels his heart drop, “Wait... I won’t remember meeting this universe Jason?”

“You never met this universe Jason. It’s all been other universe’s Jasons.” Jason repeated, starting to sound impatient.

“Does that mean I won’t remember meeting the.... the Jasons?” Dick rephrased, the question leaving a bitter taste in his mouth for agreeing with this Jason.

“Nope.”

“No!”

“You’ve been telling me that a lot.”

“Because I don’t agree with you, or your suggestion, or any of this!” Dick waves his hands wildly around him, “It’s... it’s too much to take.”

“Well, not trying to be inconsiderate but you need to choose now,” Jason huffed impatiently, tapping his boots.

“I don’t want to lose my memory! I-I want to meet you. Wait, I mean, I want to meet this universe you.”

Jason’s face shifts into gloom, “You won’t meet this universe me.”

“Oh, come on, I know your full name now, I can get your 411 easy. Or what? You think you’re too good for me?”

Then Jason smiled, “Not that I wouldn’t like to shack up with you pretty boy, but I’m afraid you’re a bit too late.”

“And why is that?”

“This universe me died right there,” Jason pointed up.

Dick, who hasn’t completely taken the information in, slowly looks up to where Jason is pointing. The top of the Ferris wheel where Dick found Jason bleeding.

Then it hits Dick like a big chunk of iceberg to his Titanic, and his stomach makes a grand fall into the dark depth. He holds himself as if he’s holding his mental state together.

“But I... I turned the Ferris wheel on, and get you out of there and you walked away...” Dick whispered to himself as if saying it will make it real.

“In another universe, you did save me, but this universe me died there watching the sky. It’s not your fault though, you haven’t got this job yet when he climbed up there.”

Dick can’t look away from the cabin at the top. It felt like a second ago that he talked to that weird boy. Dick spent a whole day as a nervous and excited wreck, looking forward to having breakfast with him and getting to know the story behind his grim smile when he offered it. The thought of him had occupied his thoughts for months. Always thinking that they’ll meet, sooner or later. Even though, there are times when his hope dies down, in the end, his intuition came true in the way he’d never imagine.

To think, Dick never met that boy at all. That he never met his Jason all this time.

“Whatever happened to him, did it happen to you, too?” Dick’s voice as weak as a broken one.

When he looks at the Jason in front of him, he can see his Ferris wheel boy there, holding back a story behind his weak smile.

“Yes.”

He never thought that his Jason and this Jason is the same, he thought the circumstances must’ve been different since his Jason died and this Jason is still here. This doesn’t make that seem that way.

“Did someone saved you?” Dick asked again.

“Luck did. I woke up the next day still alive.”

Dick nods, smiling in relief. “Can I know what happened?”

Jason paused, thinking over it, “Only if you tell me about Kory.”

At the mention of her name, his heart stops for a beat. The memory of her body on their bed, lifeless. Her red hair stark against their olive green sheets, pouring to the floor. Her jade eyes open and empty, like the bottle of her sleeping pills in her hand.

“How... how did you know Kory?”

“You and I were more than friends in my universe,” Jason smirked.

There’s an irk spiked in Dick’s chest, burning, ugly, and weird jealousy, “Then just ask him.”

“My universe’s Dick died before he could tell me,” Jason deadpanned, and Dick was caught off guard by the weight of the words delivered with a tone contrary of that.

It’s not him, but in a way, it is him. And in a way, Jason lost him. Almost like Dick lost his Jason.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. He had nightmares about her, and never get to tell me who she is.”

“Oh.” Dick still has nightmares of her, sometimes he thinks he’ll come home and find her still sleeping on his bed. She’s the reason he takes the meds in the first place. “I guess that’s fair.”

It feels that he needs to know more about how his other self gets to have a relationship with Jason. Or how he died. He doesn’t even know if Jason’s Dick has the same Kory as him.

It wasn’t the point though, Dick knows that much. He wants to know what happened to Jason because of the same urge that Jason wants to know about Dick’s nightmares. An open wound that needs closure. Any closure.

Jason looks up, his eyes mellow as a soft smile graces his mature face, “Can we go up?”

“I can’t move anything. Everything froze over.

“Don’t worry about that.” Jason closed his eyes and breathes in. Deeply. Then he opened his eyes that were filled with the same blank white light as the Ferris wheel’s portal.

The wind blows shortly, the bent tall tree bounces back to straight, its leaves fall gracefully to the floor. But the clouds still haven’t moved, and the birds far away still frozen in time.

Jason exhales, and the light in his eyes dimmed out slowly, returning the teal and dark circles on his eyes. His lips smirking at Dick who’s half losing his mind and half amazed.

Dick turns the lights on but doesn’t rotate the Ferris wheel. For memories sake, Jason showed him how he climbed to the top. It’s surprisingly easy.

They both sit at the top of the Ferris wheel, their backs against the seat, looking up to the indigo sky as Jason tells his story and Dick tells his. The world around them is forever at dawn. Their eyes are on the sunlight that peeks behind the merry-go round’s roof. Often, they’ll look at each other.

They talk about the things they’ve never told anyone before. Guiltless and shameless, since the world feels to fall deaf to their stories but each other.

In frozen time, they sit at the top of the Ferris wheel. No one is stopping each other from talking, as if this will be their only chance to come clean with their burdens and sin. So, they stayed and talk as long as they please.

And none of them knows how much time has really passed.

+++++

Something is different about this amusement park. She can’t point it out, but it just feels foreign to her. One thing for sure is that she’s completely lost. Everyone is taller than her and she can’t see her moms. She’s sobbing but she won’t cry because she’s wearing her Captain Marvel jacket. Today she promised to be good so he can go to this park, so she’ll find a way to find her moms.

Her mama says, when she’s lost she needs to find someone in uniforms and tell them that she’s lost. As the six-year-old girl looks for someone with a uniform, she finds someone entirely different that puts everything else at halt.

A girl that looks just like her.

Not just anyone that’s wearing the same dress or having the same hair. She looks at the mirror for dress-up often enough that the girl in front of her is –well– her. Like a twin or the exact same copy of her. The other her is wearing a Wonder Woman shirt instead of her Captain Marvel Jacket, and a gold skirt instead of her jeans. But their hair is braided the same favorite way she liked, intertwined with blue ribbons.

She’s as speechless as her. Of course she is, they’re not staring at a mirror, but at each other! And as far as she knows, she’s not a twin, and she doesn’t have any other siblings yet.

“Callie!” Someone called and the girl in front of her looks back to the source of the voice.

That’s weird. She almost believed that they’re the same person, but her name is not Callie.

The girl named Callie runs towards the direction of the call, leaving her behind.

Being a lost little girl, her first instinct is to follow her copy, hoping to find her moms.

“Hey there! You must be lost.” Someone steps in front of her and she abruptly stops. She looks up to see the extension of the legs in front of her, then finally finds her smile.

It’s a security guard with hair as black and fabulous as Loki but with a friendly face and blue eyes like Captain America. Then a smile and kind eyes, just like a prince.

“Yes! I’m lost, I need to find my moms. I think I need to follow her,” She points to the direction her twin just ran off to, but she disappeared between the crowds already.

The security guy just smiles and bends his knees, “What’s your name, little girl?”

“Amalia.”

“That’s a pretty name, my name is Grayson.”

“That’s a pretty name too.”

“Why thank you!” the man smiles and he looks more handsome than the princes in Disneyland. “Come on, I’ll take you to your moms.” He offers his hand and she eagerly takes his hand.

With the guide of Grayson’s hand, they walk through the crowds. Amalia looks at her surroundings –as her mother always says– and she noticed that they’re walking towards the Ferris wheel.

“Are we not going to the announcement booth?” Amalia asked.

“Nope,” Grayson popped the p.

She doesn’t know when, but as soon as they step closer into the green grass area of the Ferris wheel everything else stops. The people, the music even the birds in the sky. Amalia turns her head wildly to see every little thing that pauses in mid-air and finds it fascinating. Before she knew it, she was already on the platform on the back of the Ferris wheel. There are some frozen people there, exiting the ride and their feet mid-air as they step down the platform.

Amalia finally looks away from gazing at the frozen bee right beside her when a bright light glares from the Ferris wheel. Inside the circle frame of the Ferris wheel filled with opaque white that glows. Amalia has never seen such a thing. Does every Ferris wheel does this?

“You need to go through now Amalia,” Grayson says, “You’ll meet your moms, the right ones.”

That would be great of course because Amalia is starting to miss her moms, but then he looks up to Grayson, and squeeze his hand tightly.

“I’m not going to see you again, am I?”

Grayson smiles like a prince and put his hand on top of her head.

“Maybe you will, but I’m not going to remember ever meeting you.”

“Why is that?”

“Because the me on the other side of this portal hasn’t met you yet.”

She looks around again, to the people that stopped in time, to the big shining portal and the prince beside her.

“This is the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me, and no one will ever believe me.” She sighed. She’s going to write this in her diary right, just in case she forgets or thinks she was imagining this.

“I was like you too, it sucked when there’s something happening to you but no one believes you.”

“Right!” she shouts too loud, but her prince just laughed. He’s truly the love destined for her, he’s the only one that doesn’t mind her big mouth.

“I believe that everyone is destined to be with another. No matter how wild the circumstances are. You’re going to find someone just for you, believe me.” Her prince stares into the portal and right then, she knew Grayson is not her prince. His face looks soft and kind when he smiles. He looks like how her mom looks at her mama.

She lets go of his hand in defeat but she won’t give up.

“Did you find someone who believes in you?” She asked.

“Yes,” he answers with a smile showing all his pearly teeth.

“How did you find them?” Amalia asked.

Grayson looks up to the top of the Ferris wheel with pursed lips. Whatever he’s racking up in his brain, it made him smile.

“I didn’t. He found me.”

[marmolita]

I finished Punisher!

Overall: that was WAY WAY better than I thought it was going to be!  If you, like me, didn’t give a shit about Frank Castle during DD S2 and weren’t going to watch this show because of it, maybe give it a chance.

Some thoughts, spoilers below the cut.

Okay so number one, is Frank Wolverine or something because that dude heals from life-threatening wounds in HOURS, wtf even.

Next: while I do not find his face attractive AT ALL and the idea that a character like Frank Castle would wax his chest (and back, etc) is RIDICULOUS, I do appreciate how massively fucking ripped he was and the gratuitous shirtlessness.  (Still not at all approaching being on par with DD S1 and the black PJs though.  rip black pjs)

I cannot believe they had an actual scene where one guy tells another guy “I miss sex, I’m hung like a moose” and drops his pants and starts talking about asses and that’s NOT the most popular ship in the fandom.  What the actual fuck, fandom.

Okay what else about Frank.  Number one, they reused that footage of his wife waking him up SO MANY TIMES that Mr Lita and I rolled our eyes at each other every time it came on.  Number two: Frank’s wife and kids are never fleshed out?  Like literally all we know is they died for his manpain and his wife bought him Bruce Springsteen tickets one time.  Number three: HE IS NOT A GOOD PERSON, GUYS, CAN WE STOP ACTING LIKE HE IS A GOOD PERSON.  HE STRAIGHT UP MURDERED SMALL TIME CRIMINALS FOR BEING ASSOCIATED WITH A GANG THAT WAS ASSOCIATED WITH THE PEOPLE WHO KILLED HIS FAMILY.  THAT RANDOM GETAWAY DRIVER DID NOT DESERVE TO BE HUNG ON A MEAT HOOK TO BLEED OUT OR SHOT IN THE FACE.  (in case you couldn’t tell I oppose the death penalty in general, but like, at least make the punishment fit the crime asshole)

The biggest surprise for me of this show was that Karen never got to break the story about the CIA selling heroin???????????????  Why even have Karen on the show if she wasn’t going to break that story????????????????????????????????????????????  Also Karen wtf you are better than this, you are better than Frank.

Politically, I’m not sure what this show was trying to tell me.  The CIA is bad, gun control is bad?  People need guns?  We should death penalty everyone???  who fucking knows, but whatever it was, I’m pretty sure I disagree with it for that part.  The “veterans need mental health services” part I’m on board with though and I appreciated that the NRA asshole was portrayed as a bad dude.

relatedly I apparently still have some kind of level of trauma from the George W years because I cringe every time I hear the name “Homeland Security”

Curtis is such a good dude and didn’t deserve any of this shit

OKAY LET’S TALK ABOUT BILLY RUSSO

well okay I feel like I should talk about Madani first?  Okay let’s talk about Madani.  She was super badass and I loved her!  But oh my god Madani you are also an idiot sometimes, and I cannot believe she showed up in the last scene only to be IMMEDIATELY SHOT IN THE HEAD.  But yeah I love that our good guy law enforcement hero was a woman, and that they didn’t shy away from showing her having to fight against sexism in her job.  I also enjoy that the CIA directory lady was a lady?  Like she was kind of suspect but turned out to overall be a good guy and I like that.  Also glad to see Brett show up!

OKAY NOW FOR REAL LET’S TALK ABOUT BILLY RUSSO

number one I expect there are a whole series of sex tapes he’s made out there somewhere because a vain guy like that?  who’s clearly super promiscuous and interested in being proud of himself for fucking a lot of ladies?  definitely made more than one sex tape.

number two, let me just say, when he was presented as a good guy I immediately pinned him as a bad guy just because of the hair.  Like seriously the amount of greasy product in his hair alone is enough to make me expect him to be a bad guy?  Also holy shit he was so much hotter when he was being a bad guy.  The sleazy good guy is not an attractive character archetype to me because he’s too sleazy to be good.  The sleazy bad guy though?  Sign me the fuck up.  I liked the backstory they provided for him too, and I liked that he helped Frank kill the CIA douchebag (talk about violence on tv, jfc), but idk idk his appeal is being sleazy in the kind of way only an attractive person can be and now they seem to be setting him up for a season two where his face is gonna be fucked up?  And like . . . I don’t think I’d enjoy him as a villain if he wasn’t going to also be kinda hot.

Speaking of: by royal decree all male characters should wear long-sleeved henleys forever.  It’s such a hot look???  idk why?????????? but I’m so here for it.

Anyway I apologize for the fact that somewhere along the line I got it into my head that Billy is the kind of guy who says “shit” instead of “fuck” when he’s about to come and once I had that thought I could not stop thinking it for the entire rest of the season.  Also I suspect that nobody has written the kind of fanfic I would read for this show so I”m probably not even going to bother looking for it.

(Also also: that one flashback of Frank and his fam and Billy?  If Billy didn’t have abuse-related Issues with men I would say that him and Frank and Frank’s wife absolutely had at least one threesome.)