#i remember i wrote a modern au fic to this effect years ago.. but it did NOT capture the heartfroth i feel about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moosoobi · 3 years

Text

Revelation

In the night: Chapter 1

T.Jeffy- Hamilton: the musical

Thomas’s interest in Y/N pulls him into a position he was previously blind to. They say every girl’s another mystery, but definitely not like this. Buckle your seatbelt Tommy, you’re in for a ride

Finally finished the first part of ITN (which is ironic since the moment I wrote this message I still haven’t finished it). I really hope I’m able to bring this story to life the way I want to and I hope y’all enjoy 😔💕. Here’s some stuff to expect:

Told from Thomas’s POV

Modern Au

College talk even though I’m literally in my second year of high school (so please bear with me)

Ruh roh moments

Sorta weird POV/storytelling (I’m new to writing fics and stuff so this is definitely a learning opportunity) Also excuse my English errors: Though this is my only language, my school system seemed to fail in teaching me how to write

Word count: 6.7k (including separators)

2 DISCLAIMERS:

TW: itty bitty angst, themes of injury/blood, etc.

I’m not the best story writer, so after reading this chapter you may have many questions. Please keep in mind that this is one chapter out of (about) 10. Things that you may not understand in this chapter will most likely be explained in future chapters.

-Now Playing: In The Night by The Weeknd-

My God, she’s perfect

The way the sunlight reflects off of her glass skin. The sincerity in every word, every letter that she writes with her only pencil. To be that flawless, it’s a mystery to me. She takes a glance at me. Did she feel me staring? I duck down my head in embarrassment.

“Jefferson, you oughta put that scholarship to good use”

Professor Washington boomed to the entire class. I hear a fragment of her giggle. Her laugh is soft and naïve. I couldn't help but smile at the sound of her happiness.

Washington is right, though. It's my first semester after I came back from my student exchange program over in France and I can already feel my sanity slipping. France was a beauty to visit, so many customs and cultures I wish I could be flourished in right now.

But there was one thing great about going to school in New York: I get to sit in a classroom with Y/N L/N.

I’ve never talked to her formally, at least not yet. She’s always sitting alone, never answers any questions, but Professor Washington makes the class acknowledge her perfect test scores and fascinating interpretations

As the bell rings I watch her stand swiftly. Is she in a rush? I can't help but watch as her hair is flung over her shoulder. She stuffs her notebooks and singular pencil into her burgundy-magenta backpack. Hey, at least she has good taste in color.

I don’t think you understand

She sits alone everyday during lunch, yet she never looks bothered. Her energy is so compelling to me. A feeling about her that I cannot comprehend, something that feels greater than my existence. I just got to know.

“Thomas, you gotta work on staring at people less noticeable” James catches my attention by pointing his fork a little too close to my face.

I was staring? Again?

I shake my head to snap back to reality

“The great Thomas Jefferson is interested in someone for longer than 30 seconds. I gonna be honest with you Thom, that’s impressing”

I hear James laugh as he violently stabs a few pieces of pasta onto his fork.

James has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. We went to the same middle and high school down in Virginia, and just coincidentally ended up going to the same college in New York.

We’re always there for each other. I remember cheering for him at a high school assembly after he won a story writing challenge, he’s such a nerd. Then again, he had to drive me home a couple of times after I failed multiple driving tests.

Back in high school, James was the Chess Club Champion, a title he always shoved down my throat. It’s no secret why, though. He’s really good at thinking things through, While I on the other hand tend to dive headfirst into the abyss.

“Shut it James” I sarcastically retort, taking a sip of the expensive chocolate milk which my scholarship supposedly pays for

Hey, can I sit here?

I talked to her during class. Her voice is angelic: Now, I’m not one to be religious and all, but that voice could get me on my knees praying for forgiveness. My ego couldn’t get me anywhere at all, as if she already knew my tactics, she knew my flirts, and how? I guess it just adds to her mystery.

“C'mon! that one works every time!” I whine

“Don't be so full of yourself Jefferson, I’ve heard them all before” A smile danced across her face

She did, however, laugh at some of my remarks. It's good to know that she has a sense of humor. My jokes of Professor Washington’s shiny, bald head. The jokes of Professor Washington’s assistant, John Adams, who’s suspiciously absent considering he signed up for this job.

Heck, I would even make fun of myself if it meant I got to hear that graceful laugh one more time- actually, that might be a little too far.

Many days of giggling in class came after that day. I can see her starting to open up to my friends and I, like she’s spreading her wings and showing us the greatness that lies behind the social wall that she put up years ago. Even when we got in trouble for a little too much giggling in the back of the class, I sacrificed my own pride so she didn’t have to. Yes, I, Thee Thomas Jefferson, did that.

---

Even though I could see the social wall she put up, I knew one day Y/n would fall for my charming pick up lines, or maybe I just happened to have a lucky day:

“Y/N I need some a some help with my math homework”

Y/N glances over to me in concern. I fake a scared expression.

“Quick!” I swiftly grab her shoulder and shake her “What’s your phone number?”

She playfully smacks my arm

---

Obtaining her number felt like a rite of passage, like I’m important to her, like she wants me in her life. I couldn’t stop smiling that day, and of course James just had to make a comment on it.

“Thomas, if you keep smiling like that I’m going to start thinking that your sick or something”

James said as he shut my laptop, tired of waiting for me to pack my things.

“Now that's REAL ironic coming from you, James”

I raised an eyebrow as my laugh begins to come up my throat. I take my closed laptop and shove it somewhere into my backpack.

“Okay, leaving for a month in sophomore year just because of a little fever doesn’t make ‘being sick’ as part of my trade mark”

James playfully smacked the back of my head. Thankfully, my curls serve as protection, not just to make me sinfully handsome. James and I walk out of the freezing lecture hall and were hit with the crisp-coldness of New York.

To the right of me I catch a glimpse of that eye catching burgundy-magenta backpack as it’s thrown into the trunk of a shiny, expensive car. My feet keep its motion as my head turns to see Y/N standing at the door of the car.

“Yo, is that Y/N?” I hear James whisper behind me “and who’s that?”

My attention is suddenly drawn to the tall man walking around the car to open her door. His curly hair is pulled into a small bun and the smile he had on his face broke apart the stubble on his jaw. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

“I’m just as clueless as you are”

Keeping my glance on Y/N and the man, I watch as the man opens the door for her. My stomach turns as I watch Y/N smile back at him as she sits in the car.

For a split second, I swear I saw her shoot a soft glance at me. My feet almost stop in their tracks before I feel James’ hand yank me onto another pathway.

“I’m all for you being head over heels, but we’re gonna be late to our study session with Angie”

Reality starts to set back into my head.

“Right, lets dip.”

---

“So little Tommy is Infatuated with this woman?”

Angie’s eyes are piercing, and her luscious hair frames her face in a saintly manner. She slips off her baby pink coat to ease into her library seat. Her eyebrow raises as she takes a sip of her steaming coffee

Of course James wouldn’t shut his mouth, especially around the notorious Angelica Schuyler.

Angie’s pretty popular here, I find myself wondering why she has so many connections, yet it’s not just any reason(s) why she seems to be in the spotlight.

1: She’s the oldest Schuyler. Her last name definitely got her places, not like I’m one to talk. Everyone seems to know her, not just at school, but all around New York City, and with her 5,000 Instagram followers, her first name’s starting to catch up with her last name in popularity

2: Angie’s Daddy has money money. And that’s no secret when she decides to walk around campus with her designer handbags and shoes. I tend to think she always gets what she wants, but I know deep down, she’s never gonna be satisfied. Maybe it’s just a side effect of growing up with a silver spoon in your mouth

And finally,

3: Miss Schuyler here is Bold. She’s never afraid to put both me and James in our place. It’s almost as if she can’t be touched by anyone’s thoughts of her, then again the gossip in NYC is terribly insidious. With such grace and respect, Angelica is not afraid to throw your opinion into the ground.

“Yeah I swear, Jefferson would’ve gotten run over if I didn’t pull him onto the pathway” James attempted to tone down his laugh so the librarian wouldn’t stab him with those old, sharp eyes

“She-...”

For the first time, I didn’t know how to recoil

“..Just caught me off guard.”. In an attempt to change the topic, I flipped through the pages of his textbook.

Angelica and James shared an astonished glance at Thomas before looking at each other. I could hear James shrug and flipping open his textbook. I lift my head as I hear Angelica dig through her bag

“Alright let’s get started” Angie claps her hands together with determination

—-

It’s been 2 hours of studying in the ghostly library. Unfortunately, I can’t avoid the talk forever.

“Hey Thomas, why don’t you invite her to our next study session?”

Angelica smirked as she rudely shut my laptop. I desperately imagine the day where both James and Angelica leave me alone. I angrily glare up at her, but she has a good idea

“Actually, that’s not to bad of an idea” I ponder for a moment before retrieving my phone from my pocket

Thomas: Hey Y/N, u free this week?

Hmm. Is this okay? Nah it’s too straight forward. I sigh as I deleted and retyped the message

Thomas: Greetings Ms. L/N, this is Mr. Jefferson from class. Would you delight me by partaking in a study session?

What the heck Jefferson? I began to get frustrated from this nonsense. It’s just a text, why am I getting so anal over it?

Thomas: Hey Y/N, ds@insdas/19z7dnesdc-

Angelica, who was watching me the entire time, snatched the phone from my hands. I attempted to protest, yet Angelica Schuyler knows how to hold her ground.

“Angie wh-”

“I’ll do you a favor, Jefferson.” She said sternly. There was no way I was getting that phone back, heck, I would be lucky if I got it back in one piece

“Aaaaand sent!” I heard her squeal

Angelica suddenly tossed the phone to me and I fumbled it between my hands before I held it stably. I check to see the text that Angelica sent from my phone

Thomas: Hey this is Thomas from class, wanna come study with us at the library sometime?

Oh. It was that easy.

“Thanks Angie”

I shove my phone back in my pocket. Part of me was excited to have an excuse to text Y/N, yet I do wonder how awkward it would be if she rejected the offer. I mean, she already has the perfect grades, why would she need the extra help?

I start to rethink my decision.

—-

It wasn’t until 11 pm at night until I got a reply from Y/N. Beforehand, I arrived at my apartment around 8 pm. As soon as my door shut, the room was filled with growls indicating my current problem: hunger. That could only be solved with one solution: microwavable mac and cheese.

My phone dinged while I was laying motionless on my bed. My apartment was right next to the street, and all I could hear was the busy streets of New York City.

My eyes opened as I turned to my charging phone.

Y/N: yeah I’m down :) just send a time and place and I’ll be on my way

I was filled with joy, so much that I couldn’t wait another second to reply.

Thomas: Alright, we meet at the library after our class. Can you make it?

Seeing the three dots jump melodically made my stomach feel as if two fairies were dancing throughout my body. Any second now, any second. ding!

Y/N: sounds good!

I guess it’s settled, I get to hang out with the puzzling Y/N L/N, and maybe I’ll get to learn a bit more about her. But just because it’s a study session doesn’t mean I can’t show her what a southern gentleman looks like, and for the first time, I’m so excited to study

---

James, Y/N, and I walk out of professor Washington’s class, laughing our asses off over some stupid joke. Everyone around us appears to be annoyed, especially with having to sit through almost two hours of my friends and I laughing in the back of the class, but it’s not like I care.

Once we’re hit by the bitter cold of New York, my eyes are immediately drawn to that expensive car. So familiar and so faint in head, the memory of Y/N smiling as she hopped into his car replays in my brain.

“I’ll be back guys”

Y/N excuses herself from the group before lightly jogging to the car. Her hair was graceful in the wind, and her burgundy-magenta backpack didn’t seem to weigh her down at all. For a split second, my brain acknowledges that mysterious man in the driver’s seat. There was a moment of awkward eye contact with him, his cold eyes pierced through me before my attention was drawn back to Y/N. She fixes her hair and jacket.

That was cute.

What?

James and I watch Y/N before turning to each other. I suggest to James that we wait for her, show a little southern hospitality. Even though Y/N seems to be fond of this man, he gives off a mysterious vibe similar to Y/N’s, but I do not want to unravel that mystery at all.

Seeing him throw a smirk at Y/N causes discomfort in my stomach.

Y/N comes prancing back to us, an embarrassed smile on her face. Behind her, that shiny, expensive car begins to drive away.

“My bad, I forgot to tell my roommate that I would be out late”

“That’s your roommate?” James asks, attempting to hide his curiosity and shock

“and he takes you home after class?” I interrupt briefly

Y/N nervously laughs before nodding “something like that, he just..”

That pause was a little too long

“..doesn’t like me out of the house too late so he volunteers to drive me home all the time”

I shrug it off before jumping at the feeling of James’ warm hands pulling Y/N and I to the direction of the library. Y/N and I look at him with confusion

“What? Angie doesn’t like when we’re late, remember?” James says, practically dragging us to the Library

—-

“Nice to meet you”

Angelica and Y/N got along pretty well. I can tell Angie was happy to finally have a girl to hangout with rather than having to deal with me and James only. She’s already starting to resemble a sisterly figure to Y/N, then again, growing up with two sisters must’ve prepared Angie for this moment.

I don’t hear much about the other Schuylers, but I am familiar with them. Angelica is the oldest, as we know. Her first sister, Eliza Sch- I’m pretty sure she got married, is the nicest person you’ll meet. Whoever won her surely must be worthy, because we all know people like me wouldn’t get anywhere near Eliza thanks to her older sister. Her youngest sister, Margarita Peggy Schuyler, is just like Angelica.

Stubborn. As. Fuck.

I’m confident that Angelica has taught her that philosophy since she was born. Anyway, Peggy is currently living her dreams in Southern California. Not sure what she does, but I’m sure she’s financially stable, she is a Schuyler after all.

All of us struggle to not annoy the librarian, let alone the entire library. I watch as Y/N opens up, just a little more, to Angelica, James, and I.

Hours pass as we clown around in the library. From actually completing class work to a small drawing competition between James and I, I was certainly having a good time, and so was everyone else.

It was pleasing to see Y/N more laid back rather than how she acts in class. In front of Professor Washington she’s so ‘put together’ and organized, but surrounded by her friends she’s such an amazing person, her range in professionalism and humor is astounding.

I can’t seem to ignore the fact that Angelica notices the way I look at Y/N. It’s definitely not in my strong suit to be ‘low key’, I’m known for dramatic entrances and stealing the spotlight. She smiles when I make eye contact with her, and I’m pretty sure it’s just her way of annoying me, but I can’t help the way I look at Y/N. She really is an angel sent down from heaven, disguised as a college student, and I’m just lucky enough to be her friend.

I’m blind to her flaws. When I see her, I feel like a tourist glancing at the Mona Lisa, memorizing every curve of her face, the way her hair falls around her shoulders, and the way the library lighting reflects off of her glowing skin.

What felt like a sledgehammer breaking a slab of fragile glass, I see Y/N’s phone light up. Even across the table I can read the word “Lafayette” off of her phone. I can’t lie, it surely sounds familiar.

When she finally noticed her phone flash on, I feel her ease turn into worry, and it definitely didn’t go unnoticed by James, Angie, and I. She starts to pack away her books

“My bad guys, I really gotta go”

Y/N said notably panicking. Her phone flashes once again, yet the only thing that seems to catch my eyes is the bold “7:30” spread across the top of her phone.

“Are you okay by yourself?” I asked, trying my best not to pry into her business

“Yeah, my roommates here to pick me up, I don’t want to make him wait” she tried to play it off, but I’m learning to see right through her

“Alright, see you next time Y/N” I shrug it off

She sends my friends and I a quick smile before replying

“for sure”

Angelica and James got back to work without saying a word, and I could tell they were waiting until she was gone to start teasing me. I eased back into my chair before flipping the pages of my notebook

I watched as she shoved open the library door and disappeared into the darkness. She’s such a mystery, when I feel like she’s opening up, she just shuts the door and we’re back at square one. Though I do claim to love a good challenge, Y/N L/N, I will never understand you.

—-

And that’s when it started. It wasn’t just one time where 7:30 was Y/N magic number, oh no, it was oddly consistent. I’m convinced that Y/N is some variation of Cinderella; her polite attitude and the beautiful little things she does without acknowledging it all vanish when the clock strikes 8:00, but that’s just one of many theories made by James.

Another study session with James and Angelica, and Y/N’s flashing screen still compelled Y/N to leave the library without a trace. On some occasions we don’t even notice her escape, we just turn to see her seat empty and feel the faint wind from outside as the library door slowly closes.

One day Angie bought us all tickets to see the preview to the newest, scariest movie I’ve ever watched. I was accompanied by Y/N, James, and Angie, yet their presences made it worse. Halfway through the bucket of popcorn and the movie, Y/N suddenly stood up and left after saying those 5 words. Before she left, I felt the warmth of her hands leave the place on my arm.

I never knew how addicting her warmth would be until it was already gone.

“Sorry guys, I gotta go” The weak smile on her face instantly resonated feelings of sympathy and understanding.

From then on, Y/N and I grew closer as friends. We’d fool around at a local park before heading to campus, obviously sparking a few observations and remarks from James. I’d invite her to fancy dinners, or maybe even a small festival down the road from my apartment, yet her response would always be proven false at the moment she’d leave me and my thoughts at 7:30.

But that hasn’t stopped me from attempting to hang out with her. Even on the days I wouldn’t have class with her we’d go out and get ice cream, study at the park, I guess you can say we’ve gone on a few ‘dates’ since our initial study session.

Whenever we’re apart, I can feel every second expanding to its maximum capacity of time. I wouldn’t see her for a day and it will already feel like years since I’ve seen her. The days I do see her, time seems to maneuver a little too fast. When I recall hanging out with Y/N, all I can imagine is the feeling of floating above the clouds every time she and I made physical contact. Like a rock being dropped into still water, ever touch ripples throughout my body, sending shivers down my spine.

Truly incredible.

—-

She doesn’t like to talk about her personal life, and I find that quite odd. I’m usually one to continue rambling every detail of every trait of mine, yet I find myself yearning to learn more about her.

We text every now and then when we’re outside of class, a little more to be considered ‘just friends’. There’s always a story which unravels just a little more of Y/N’s past, and she’s left me on my own to connect the dots. I must say, she’s definitely an interesting gal, but I know there’s more to discover.

She’s a native New Yorker, born and raised, surviving by splitting an intense rent with her mysterious room mate. Y/N doesn’t talk much of her family, other than faint memories of her mother single handedly raising her and her little brother, who I’m fairly unaware of.

Going into college undecided, Y/N describes her want to learn more about herself before she’s able to make any life determining choices. I’ve noticed that her schedule seems like a labyrinth avoiding life problems and obstacles, so perhaps being placed in the same class coincidentally was just fate playing its part.

Y/N loves to explain her dream for workless weekends, moments in the week where she just gets to sit back, close her eyes, and breathe a little. With finals starting to appear from thin air, I can’t blame her for a dream so far from reality.

Even with the knowledge I hold of her, something never seems to change: her disappearances at 7:30.

It’s always that damn 7:30.

7:30--the cliffhanger your favorite show leaves you desiring for more

the end of a fun night of laughter and glee, wishing it lasted just a little longer

the off-set energy in a room when those around you know something you don’t.

As days, weeks, and months pass since my first text proposal to hang out at the library, Y/N and I become a little closer than just friends. It’s been obvious, especially to James and Angie, that Y/N is more than capable of holding my attention.

Though James is worried that Y/N will just become ‘another girl’ to me, concerning my tomcat nature in the past, he can see the potential I see in her. I find myself wishing I did spend more time with her, maybe I just need to make a better effort.

I’ll prove James and Angie wrong.

Filled with determination and confidence, in the midst of my silent room, I whip out my phone and direct my attention towards forming a text message for Y/N

Thomas: let’s get coffee sometime?

Jefferson charm, don’t fail me now.

---

Before I knew it, Y/N and I were feasting on exotic cheeses and aged wine in my New York apartment. I hit play on a random romcom which helps to fill the emptiness in my apartment and ironically the thin space between Y/N and I.

I have no idea how to make my move. Though I’m not aware of my competition, I imagine if Y/N could attract someone of My caliber, I should be well aware of the things she’s capable of. Originally I planned to court her-- I know, I know, I’m a man of tradition--yet after James caught on to my recognizable frustration, He suggested I go for it.

This is surprising on multiple occasions, especially since James possesses the ‘brains’ between the both of us. Being the chess club champion, ‘talk’ won’t aid you when you're struggling in a chess match. Just like how he meticulously plays chess, he examines my situation and provides his Virginian insight, or so he prefers to call it, and they always proceed the way his scheme describes.

I’ve adhered his advice to my life ever since we were kids, and when I didn’t, he’d simply reply with:

“I told you so”

His smug smirk accompanied with a finger pointing to his temple would soon transform from clever to annoying.

I feel a vibration come from my pocket. Well, of course it’s not Y/N texting so must I really answer it? I pull out my phone despite my doubts and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

James: 👍

Speak of the Devil.

But enough about James. I understand that both Y/N and I are mature college students, yet I still fear the disruption in our friendship I can provoke just by making my move. I’ve gotten this far; If she wasn’t interesting I’m sure she would’ve rejected me sooner.

She’s different, she’s unique, something about her that I just can’t place, but also something missing. Anyway, this is probably my best chance at shooting my shot at Y/N, and it’s too late now to back down.

As my lips part in an attempt to speak and make a move, Y/N’s motionless phone (currently laying undisturbed on my coffee table) suddenly brightens with the most obnoxious ringtone I’ve ever heard. The words “It’s 7:30!” flash on her screen, almost as if it was warning her rather than reminding her.

“Y/N—” my eyes follow her body as she swiftly stands up

“I gotta g—” I watch as she attempts to grab her purse, yet her body is limited when I firmly grab her arm. She looks back to me with tiredness in her eyes.

Part of me thought maybe, just maybe, Cinderella here wouldn’t have a curfew. That I somehow would be the exemption to this consistent confusion . But you can only daydream so far into the day until you’re pulled back into your reality

Her entire demeanor seems like it was reconstructed after her alarm went off. Moments ago she was just enjoying tasty cheese and cheesy movies, and the worst part is, I have no idea why.

“Let me speak, darlin’”

I stand up to avoid the way her eyes look down on me. I can’t stand that pitiful glare; she looks at me as if I’m a child incapable of understanding her situation, but she’s too stubborn to let me know. I’d be wise to use this time to make a move on different circumstances.

“Now, you’re always leaving at seven thirty..”

Her sigh is almost enough to interrupt me

“..why’s that? Talk to me.”

I maintain my eye contact before it’s abruptly broken. She looks everywhere but my eyes, and I wonder where in my apartment she would find an excuse, yet still manages to dodge the question.

“..you wouldn’t understand..” she scoffs almost intentionally, honestly scratching a part of my ego. I hate to admit she’s right, I really don’t understand what’s going on.

I cock my head to the side. Where’s this coming from?

“Darlin’, I’m sure I’m a very understanding person—”

“—I need to leave”

I could tell by the look of her face that she wasn’t trying to argue, but it’s inevitable.

“Why can’t you just tell me?..” I put my hands up as a sign of defeat, but I’m not giving up yet. “We’ve been friends for a while and you’re always leavin’ at seven—”

“I know! I know..” she removes my hand from her arm, clearly refusing to look up at me.

“Let’s just say..I got a job..?”

Oh. That’s what this is all about? A job? She couldn’t spare at least an explanation for a part time gig?

“See? That wasn’t so hard”

“It’s..really embarrassing..” The glance she takes around the room makes me wonder if she’s really telling the truth. it’s not really my place to speculate, there’s no going back from this.

“It’s alright, it’s just a job after all” I claim, trying to get this conversation back on track

“This is exactly what I meant but ‘you wouldn’t understand’”

Huh?

“You don’t know what it feels like to have your life rely on minimum wage—” she sounds like she’s holding something back.

“Y/N wher—”

“A-and here you are makin’ me late for work” her eyes appear on the verge of crying.

“darlin’ look..”

“God, you’ve never had to work for anything in your life!”

Silence.

Both of us refuse to speak. Y/N phone, still on the table, chimes again. “7:35” it said on its bright screen.

“Is that really how you feel?..” I take a step back to give her space. She still refuses to look at me.

There’s no way she’d cause all this chaos just because of a job. And even if she believes I’ve piggy backed off of my name for my entire life, why would it matter to her?

“I..I should leave” before I could process what just happened, she swiftly tosses her phone into her bag and heads for the door.

“Y’know, I had a nice time..” was all I heard before the harsh shutting of my apartment door.

And that was the end of it.

My first thought after the door shut wasn’t to whip out my phone and attempt to text her, it certainly wasn’t to call James and inform him of his miscalculation, but instead to attend to the matter at hand. This cheese and wine won’t clean itself.

And the night continued normally, as if nothing had ever taken place. I couldn’t help but microwave another cup of Mac and cheese to cope with what Y/N said. Nothin’ like a good meal to divert your attention away from your problems. But even a good cup of cheese and pasta can’t stop me from thinking’:

Is that all I am to her?

A southern snob incapable of functioning without their father’s last name?

After an introspective shower, and a few episodes of a random Netflix show, I’m finally alone with my thoughts and feelings. I lie in darkness, tussling and turning at every occasion, unable to extract her words from my mind.

If there’s someone whose opinion I care about the most, it’s Y/N L/N. I consider texting her at this very moment, yet I’m sure that I’m the last person she wants to talk to. The weight of my actions falls heavily onto my shoulders every minute, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Give her space, Jefferson, and maybe you’ll be able to fix this tragedy.

---

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The knocks on my apartment door were enough to jerk my body back to consciousness. Sadly pulled from the warmth of my dreams, I’m hit with the cold, noisy reality of an average night here in New York.

Can my day get any worse?

Coming straight from the depths of slumber, I take a few minutes to process reality. Maybe the knocks were in my head. Did I dream about someone knocking on my door? Perhaps it’s

The sun’s still not up yet, why am I?

Groggily sitting up, I decide to check the time, yet it takes me multiple attempts to grab my phone in the dark before I catch a sight of the time.

2 am?!

Who is so out of their minds so show up to my apartment at this time? Who do I know that would show up at this time?

James is too sensible for that,

Angie would never waste her time on me, for whatever reason,

And Y/N—

well.

I don’t know our circumstances right now.

I debate whether or not I should answer the door. Perhaps it’s just rock that happened to hit the door of my apartment, and even if it is a person, I’m not aware of anyone so mad to show up in the middle of the night. it’s not worth my time.

...

Knock! Knock! Knock!

So much for ‘Not worth my time’. A groan is all my body can respond with while I gradually stand from the comfort of my bed. I grab the nearest shirt, which was draped over my desk chair, and scramble to put it on. Passing my cramped kitchen, my hands subconsciously flip on the nearest light switches, while my eyes struggle to comprehend the sudden light.

Before I reach the door, I couldn’t help but attempt to fix my hair. Just because someone happens to show up outside unannounced doesn’t mean I can’t present my best rendition of a southern gentleman.

And finally, through my fatigue and irritation, I’m finally urged to grab the doorknob and twist it open in one motion.

“Uh, it’s two a.m. so I hope--”

I nervously scratch the back of my head, attempting to add spice to this awkward encounter. It wasn’t until my eyes caught sight of the blood dripping down her glass skin and the meeting of our eyes did I have any words

“Y/N?!?”

Her cold, pale, and hurt body would’ve hit the concrete floor if I had answered the door any later.

---

And there she layed half colorless on my bed. Her smile was full of embarrassment and gratitude as I sat beside her, tending to the evident cuts and Injured areas of her body. “I hope I’m being a great house guest” she joked, causing her to laugh, yet hurting herself in the process.

“Hey, Hey, Take it easy..” Y/N’s presence usually fills me with carefreeness, or perhaps stability, but for the first time I can’t help but react seriously. Her demeanor changed as she saw my retaliation to her joke.

“I guess…” she looked down to her fragile body, a sigh released, seeming to be an attempt to calm down. “...I owe you an explanation for earlier. And especially for showing up at your place at 2 in the damn morning. ”

Thomas’ hands, full of wipes and hydrogen peroxide soaked cotton balls, froze in their tracks before he looked up at her, eager to listen and visibly confused. Y/N visibly winced as the cotton balls stuck to her cuts for longer than they should’ve, yet with Thomas’ reflexes at their all-time-max, he pulled them away with a worried expression.

“Explanation? You said you got a job, and I’m sorry for not respecting it..” I continued to clean her up, consensually of course, how could I call myself a gentleman if I were to act upon improper motives?

“Again..” I utter quietly “..I didn’t know you felt that way, and I’m ashamed you feel that way”

I attach an ivory-colored band aid to her glass skin, careful not to damage it any further. I look up to her watching, pitiful eyes. “You were saying?” I reciprocate the attention to her, awaiting a so-called answer to come out of her mouth

“I didn’t know where else to run to..” she attempted to sit up, lifting her weight off of my satin-covered sheets, yet quickly stopped when being hit with a wave of pain from her right shoulder

Though my first thought would’ve been ‘Damn it, my darn sheets are ruined’, it was quickly drawn to Y/N and her current problem

“Y’know, I think an apology and explanation can wait, Y/N. you need a little sleep, it’s already three in the mornin’ for god’s sake” a small laugh erupts from her

I sent her an assuring smile, trying to remind her that everything is always going to be okay in a Jefferson household. And surprisingly I received a smile in return, a smile of trust and security that I’ve never felt so glad to see. Of course, I wish I could’ve seen that smile under different circumstances, but I’ll work with what I got.

I stood from my beautiful satin sheets and reached for a hoodie on my swivel chair. (everything but your closet is a closet, change my mind) I braced for a cold night on my apartment couch while Y/N enjoys the warmth of my bed, but Y/N had other plans.

“Wait- Thomas.” She said firmly

I turned tiredly to her direction, my arm already extended for the door, yet frozen in place as I awaited a response

“Can you just..” she scoot herself over, as much as possible with her frail body “..hold me?” She watches me anxiously

“I mean— you don’t have to b—” I didn’t hesitate at all to gently slide under the sheets of the bed. As soon as I turn to her direction, I can’t help but feel scared to touch her in fear of hurting her; my hands don’t know where to reside. “Where do I..” I’m truly perplexed

She giggled at my confusion and shyly grabbed my hand “I’m not so fragile you know”

She brought my hand up to the side of her head, and all I could process was the texture of the bandages under my fingertips. I don’t know what's going on, but I couldn’t just leave her out there.

“..Right..” I wait for her eyes to close before I can even think about closing mine, and soon the texture of the bandages seem to melt onto my fingertips as I’m finally able to return to my slumber.

“See you in the mornin’..”

---

I didn’t wake up until I felt the sun rays kissing my back through my so-called ‘blackout curtains’. Such a scam. The room seemed a little too quiet; I gently turned onto my other side just to find an empty bed. I consider the possibility of last night’s encounter with Y/N was all just some messed up dream, but when I saw the faint stains of blood on my sheets, I knew I was far from dreaming.

My body doesn’t want to move, and I’m stuck sitting up in my bed for another ten minutes. What the heck is going on? One minute she yells at me, then next thing I know she’s outside my apartment at 2 am.

And that explanation.

I guess I was such a fool to think she wouldn’t continue to run away from this matter. My thoughts are interrupted by my buzzing phone. I know for sure that it’s not Y/N hittin up my phone right about now.

James: Let’s try that new coffee place a few blocks from your apartment?

He really read my mind, or maybe it’s a response made from calculating my failure yesterday. But a distraction sounds tremendous.

Thomas: bet.

I throw on a cleaner, more professional jacket, if such a thing exists, and swiftly get my feet out the door. Everything seems the same, as if nothing had taken place last night. The world still spins and I’m expected to spin with it.

I don’t think I’m anywhere near capable of unraveling your mystery.

Y/N L/N, I will never understand you.

#thomas jefferson fanfic #thomas jefferson #Daveed Diggs #daveed x reader #thomas x reader #alexander hamilton #hamilton fanfic #hamiltonau #Angelica Schuyler #james madison #marquis de Lafayette #lafayette x reader #lafayette #george washington #washington #John Laurens #hercules mulligan #thomas jefferson x reader

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3pirouette · 3 years

Text

Fic: Iterate (1/1)

Title: Iterate By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Spoilers: Up through Endgame. Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: 2953 Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Summary: Steve lived through the 21st century twice, the second time hurt much more than the first.

A/N: I literally made myself cry today on the way to work while I was working this out in my head. It was SUPPOSED to be FLUFFY. I’m not exactly why I decided on this format, all I know is that it felt right. I hope you enjoy. Steggy is just mentioned, more Steve-centric.

It was supposed to be a stupid, fluffy story about Old Steve living with his granddaughter and being a LITTLE SHIT to her all the time because he’s 100% comfortable with modern things and it drives her nuts. I’m sorry.

Also, please pay attention to vague time stamps. Certain details are changed for impact. Hence, AU (Even though I FULLY BELIEVE that once the stones are placed back there is only ONE main timeline where Steve lived, was Peggy’s husband, and that’s how he showed up at the end of Endgame. Fight me.)

AND I’M SORRY.

~*~ October 2023

He supposed he’d always been waiting for this day. Steve knew he’d be around for it, one way or another. At least, he’d always assumed that, though he’d thought he’d experience it in a very, very different way.

He didn’t know the exact time, just a vague recollection that it was early afternoon, that there had been sunlight they’d blocked out with the blast shields, that they’d tried to eat lunch but they were all too nervous.

Funny. Same thing happened to him today. He couldn’t manage to get anything to slide down past the lump in his throat, couldn’t fill his stomach to calm the butterflies. He tried coffee first. It was warm and robust but had no effect.

He pulled out the tin from the back of the cabinet and made a cup of tea from one of the few remaining bags there. He sipped it and imagined Peggy sitting across from him, telling him off for using old tea that would be bitter and teasing him for how much sugar he put in it.

He drank a beer and wished to god that he had just one flask of whatever it was Thor used to carry around. He needed something to calm his nerves.

He caught his reflection in the window over the sink. For just the briefest second he saw his young self, so broken by so much, not knowing that today would be the day he’d be put to his greatest test. But the sun shifted and he could see every wrinkle in the refection, every grey hair, the haziness to his eyes that the doctor said was the beginning of cataracts.

A lifetime ago this day had changed everything for him without him knowing. Today, he was just as eager for the moment when Banner would put on that glove, this time for very different reasons.

~*~

In the end, Steve Rogers managed to live a fairly normal life.

Once back with Peggy, he kept away from the spotlight. Unsure if he’d created a parallel timeline or if he was living in his own, he did his best to avoid changing things.

Because even when he wanted to change things, he realized very quickly, he couldn’t.

He became enamored with sci-fi and fantasy that included time travel, with physicists who wrote books on the subject. He wanted to understand it, to know the unknowable.

He eventually decided that he was prescribing to the Doctor Who Theory of time travel: that it was all very, very complicated but that some things, no matter what, had to just happen in their own time and some things were simply fixed and would always happen the way they were supposed to. He’d seen this first with Zola- as he’d tried to get the man and his influence away from SHIELD they only dug their heels in deeper and kept him. It was later reaffirmed when, despite every effort, The Winter Soldier escaped him and Howard and Maria were left for dead in their car, young Tony devistated.

After that day, he stopped trying so hard to avoid squishing butterflies and focused instead on enjoying what he had.

What he had was, after all, quite a lot: A wife, two young boys, and a second chance at the life he’d missed while fighting other men’s wars.

~*~

Despite knowing all that laid ahead for him and his friends in the future that was now his past and yet somehow once again his future, Steve eventually started longing for the new millennium as decades past him by. He missed the technology, the ability to have whatever kind of entertainment he waited at the tips of his fingers. Though he’d known a good portion of what would happen from history books, once he’d gone back, he’d lived an entire lifetime full of surprises, experiencing things like the moon landing and the Vietnam war first hand. But now, as he grew older and he knew his days with Peggy were numbered, he longed for the small comforts of familiarity, for e-mails and smartphones and heated steering wheels on cars that parked themselves.

As the 2000’s arrived, he felt himself get more and more comfortable with the things around him: the news, the events he’d already experienced once and would again in a different way. It felt good to feel at least on solid ground with the world around him, knowing what was to come for him.

His home was lonely after Peggy was gone, and he made his only granddaughter an offer she couldn’t refuse: free room and board if she helped him keep up the house. An elementary school art teacher, Maggie was happy to step in for a little financial relief as she tried to navigate the churlish economy.

If he never told her that he was perfectly capable of taking care of the house by himself, it didn’t quite matter. The company was more than enough. And if when she smiled she looked just a little like her namesake and it warmed his heart… well, that wasn’t a bad thing, either.

The best part, he’d found though, was that it was hilariously funny to drive his granddaughter crazy. He’d lived through the early decades of the 21st century as a young man. He’d learned how to navigate the internet, interface with the most complicated technology there was to offer, and listened to music that wouldn’t be written for years to come. He loved watching her face as he sang along to Billie Eilish on the radio or realize that she didn’t have to explain to him how to use an iPad or Facetime.

~*~

She yelled at him the first snowfall. Skidded her car (all-wheel drive, thank goodness he’d convinced her to get the newest model) into the freshly shoveled driveway and tore out of the driver’s seat, yelling at him a mile a minute.

They’ll think I’m some kind of self-centered princess letting a centenarian shovel this and try to kill himself! She’d yelled, trying to take the shovel from his hands.

He was still stronger than he should be, and held his ground. I don’t want you hurting yourself on this stuff.

Me? She’s screeched, and he’d laughed. He couldn’t help but smile and find her concern at least a little comical. Deep down he understood, knew that he should be trying to sell his age a little more, be trying to hide that he was still strong and fast and in better shape than some of his middle-aged neighbors.

As much as he’d like to push her off, tell her to go inside, he couldn’t. She wasn’t a self-centered princess, but she was his princess, and he bent to her whim like a branch in the wind. He’d kissed her on the head and finally handed her the shovel, leaving her the last bit of the path to her to clean up, and promised to take better care of himself.

She didn’t know that when she left for work, he still went down the basement and bench pressed 225 on an easy day.

~*~

She teased him about his record collection. Even though records had come back in style, she still thought it was silly to have a whole wall dedicated to them when she could access nearly all of musical history on her cell phone. He showed her his own digital playlists and popped in his airpods when he was reading sometimes, but he loved the sound the needle made when it hit the wax.

One night, when he couldn’t listen to her teasing anymore, no matter how good natured it was, he played dirty.

You know, there’s a new song coming out by one of those artists you like. WAP? Heard it’s a cover of a song your Nana and I used to dance to all the time.

Two weeks later, he heard the familiar opening bass to the song Barton had played incessantly in the gym while he was working out and had quoted for months, the song that he hadn’t been able to get away from even in the past with random phrases like macaroni in a pot popping into his head at the most inconvenient times.

Barely half a verse in she’d either shut it off or turned the music way lower. At dinner she couldn’t look at him.

That was not at cover, Pop Pop. And I don’t want to think about you and Nana like that… ever.

~*~

She cried when she came home, a year after Peggy’s death, to see Peggy’s beautiful vanity had been moved into her room, Peggy’s jewelry box on it front and center.

What did you do? She’d kept asking him, tears in her eyes.

She’d want you to have it. He knew it was the truth. He hugged her tight as she sniffed and knew he’d made the right decision. He remembered Peggy sitting with Maggie on her knee on the small stool, letting the girl paw through her necklaces and play with her big fluffy make-up brushes. Maggie reaching for her eyeshadow and Peggy deftly pulling it away. Peggy being just a little too slow with the lipstick and the toddler bouncing around the house, proudly showing off the circle on the bottom half of her face to anyone who would look at her.

They’d loved their boys, but Maggie had both of their hearts in a way they hadn’t been prepared for.

Steve had to make up and excuse to leave the house the next morning when Maggie came down to breakfast, wearing the single pearl drop necklace he’d gotten for Peggy on their 25th wedding anniversary and her signature red lipstick. It was a good pain, but the first time he saw her in her grandmother’s necklaces, it was pain none the less.

~*~ Spring 2018

He knew the date it was supposed to happen. He’d kept up enough to know that it would, too. His other self was out there, somewhere, fighting what would become the biggest battle of his life.

Steve decided to focus on the small things. He kept the house stocked up with food and drinks, nonperishables that would last months and even years, toilet paper and paper towels. He ordered big metal shelves for the basement and made sure there was enough for multiple people for the long haul.

He didn’t know what would happen to his family in the snap- who would make it and who wouldn’t, but he was going to be sure whoever survived would be set for the following months where there was chaos, food and water shortages, and fear.

It would be a long five years for anyone that was left.

Even though she was home most nights, he asked Maggie for a standing Thursday night date. Some nights he showed her how to keep the house up: where the water main was, how to shut it on and off, where the gas line was, what to do if the roof started leaking. He made notebooks full of lists of things to do, how-to’s for the house and for life, and even, when he was awake in the middle of the night, wrote her letters so she wouldn’t be lonely.

Somehow, he just knew it would be him this time. He had survived the first snap, but if there were two of him and one survived, the other, statistically, did not. Thanos was very clear on how half worked.

Maggie, at first, had been scared. His family knew he had a knack for predicting the future, but didn’t know quite why.

Are you dying? Maggie had asked, fearing the worst when she started to realize that their Thursday night take-out and movie date was about more than just spending time together.

No, he’d said so very often, I just want you to be ready for anything.

Despite all of her questions, she went along with it.

When the day came, he couldn’t quite keep the sadness out of his eyes. Couldn’t quite smile at her. They ate pizza in front of the TV, watching a comedy Maggie had picked. He kept his eyes on his watch. It was coming.

His fingers itched. Like he could already feel his cells pulling apart.

He reached out, taking her hand in his and covering it with is other hand. “Maggie, you know I love you, right?”

She smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She’d sensed his anxiety all day. “Of course, I do. And I love you, Pop Pop.”

He looked away and then back at her. “I promise you, whatever happens, I’m alright, and I’ll be back.”

“Pop Pop,” her eyes filled with tears, “What are you talking about?”

He shook his head, “I’ve left you everything you’ll need, and I promise I’ll be back.”

A tear fell from her eye as she squeezed his hand tighter. “But where…”

It was as if the world went silent as it started to happen. Though the television droned on in the background, he could swear the air was stiller. He started to see the dust fill the air and tried not to breathe.

But it was wrong.

It wasn’t him.

Her hand was falling to nothing in his, the fear in her eyes haunting as the skin of her cheeks flecked into the air, swirling before falling along with the rest of her into a pile on the couch.

It was so fast. So fast.

And it wasn’t him.

“No…” The word fell from his lips as a whisper, sobs starting to form in his throat.

~*~

He wondered, nearly every night for five years, if Thanos knew. If it had somehow been a conscious choice to keep him alive, to make him suffer just a little more. To make him watch his other self on television trying to promote healing.

Sometimes, he realized that this was a blessing. His sons and granddaughter were safe while they were snapped, protected by the fabric of the universe. Bucky had told him that he didn’t remember anything from being snapped, didn’t feel any different when he woke up than if he’d taken a long, heavy nap.

Somewhere, his family was taking the universe’s longest nap without him.

But they’d be spared these memories. They’d be spared lonely nights of missing loved ones and too little to eat while the world sorted out the jobs that were suddenly empty to keep things running for those that were left behind.

They’d be spared the fear of the gangs that started roaming the streets of half abandoned cities, looting for food and clothes in stores that had never officially closed but also couldn’t open with their owners simply gone.

They’d be spared the rolling blackouts and the contaminated water scares.

They’d be spared the fear of the country as the government suddenly found itself missing elected officials and the infighting and the rhetoric that came with martial law and hasty elections.

They’d be spared so, so much pain and loss.

Every day, he relived it all, twice over.

He counted every day for five years, making his way through each week and month motivated by only one thought: they were coming back. He needed to be ready for them, for her.

He helped his daughter in law keep their house, managed his other son’s apartment in DC and kept his things ready and waiting, made sure Maggie’s things were safe and in working order, made sure her bank account stayed open and her phone bill was paid. He’d never, not once, considered he’d be the one left behind, and the logistics of all there was to do left him busy for the first few weeks.

Everyone told him his hope that the dusted would return was infectious, but after the first year, people stopped listening. He knew, for a fact, they’d come back, but everyone else didn’t. Even the past him was operating on the idea that they’d never be back.

Some days he didn’t make it out of bed. He laid there, talking to the ceiling, whispering to Peggy, wishing she could talk back, wishing she could be one of the ones brought back. He missed her with a ferocity that hadn’t changed since the first time he’d been in this time, but had only been tempered and strengthened by a lifetime together.

As the days drew closer to the five-year mark, he began to make arrangements.

~*~ October 2023

He cleaned the living room and set it to the way it had been that night. He pulled out every note and letter he’d written Maggie and his children and put them in the kitchen, ready and waiting.

He sat on the couch, facing the blank television, a new, piping hot, pepperoni pizza sitting in front of him, untouched.

He still couldn’t eat.

He still didn’t know if this was the right timeline. As he’d gotten closer to this day his faith had wavered. What if all he’d come to believe wasn’t true? What if this wasn’t the one fourteen million? He wanted to believe, but he didn’t know for sure.

He looked at his watch, watching as the seconds ticked by. What were a few seconds to him? He’d lived more than one lifetime, and that had been enough. He had barely made it through these five years the first time. The second time had almost truly broken him. He was ready for this to be over. He was ready to stop having to deal with loss and to be able to live whatever time he had left with the family he loved.

He held out his hand, and waited.

#3P's Fic #so sad #I am so sorry #yes #that's the end

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ellaofoakhill · 3 years

Text

In Defense of Fanfiction

This was in part brought on by this thread on Twitter https://mobile.twitter.com/benedict_rs/status/1349954211358924800 but these are also thoughts I've reflected on the last few months. Anywho...

There are numerous criticisms that’ve been leveled at fanfiction and its writers in recent decades:

It’s bad

you can’t make money off it

it’s terrible

it’s like having training wheels on

it’s the dumpster fire sloppy, lazy, unimaginative writers immolate themselves on

it is inherently inferior to original work

And more besides. At best, it’s considered a stepping stone to writing one’s own original work. At worst, it’s made out as a sort of theft of someone else’s original work (Lookin’ at you, Anne Rice).

It’s often thought of as lazy because someone else created the characters, the setting, etc.; all you as the fanfic writer did, unless you threw in an OC or two, was jiggle the pieces around a little.

Many writers do use it as a sort of practice, yes; I certainly did, or thought I did, anyway. And a confession? I have written bad fanfiction. There’s still Danny Phantom fanfiction on an account whose password I forgot years ago that was at best cringe-worthy, and at worst blatantly derivative, and I’m kinda glad it isn’t connected with me. I outgrew it, plain and simple.

But I know better now. Take a look at the mythologies and folktales of the world, and how those stories were passed on. There are many versions of the Greek myths, and many more that simply never survived to the present day, and many many more that were never written down in the first place.

Let’s take one example, the origin of Medusa. In an older Greek version, she was a daughter of the ancient sea deities Phorcys and Ceto, along with her two sisters. In another, penned by Ovid (that guy exiled by Augustus who projected like crazy), she was punished by Athena for banging Poseidon in Athena’s temple, which seems a bit unfair, especially if you’ve heard the alternate, non-consensual version of this story.

This version, with Medusa’s unjust deformation by the gods (still, sadly, has a relevant modern interpretation, considering how all-too-often women are effectively told “don’t get raped” rather than men being told “don’t rape”, and how women are condemned for not going out with entitled young men who then do something like bring a gun to school; seriously, my gender sometimes), was so far as I’m aware, an Ovid original.

Someone else created the characters, the settings, everything. He just juggled the pieces around. That’s it.

And his work is considered with all the gravity of other ancient classics of Western literature.

Looking at that, and enough ancient works to fill a container ship, it almost seems like humanity has been changing and playing with previous works for a fantastically long time. Fanfiction, then, isn’t a fringe genre; it is a central aspect of the human experience. Travelling storytellers would tweak and wholesale add or drop pieces of their work depending on whose court or village they played in, while still retaining those classic heroes, villains, and tropes; that arguably constitutes fanfiction. It’s only in the modern context that recent interpretations of intellectual property rights have maligned this fundamental human tendency.

To be clear, I don’t have a problem with the protection of intellectual property, especially when it’s being used to protect a small-time artist in whatever medium from having their work exploited by corporate greed or government propaganda machines, which I suspect is what the whole idea was originally intended for, along with fostering creativity itself by making sure creative people are the ones paid for their work. But when it’s being used as a bludgeon to suppress the creative spirits of others, that runs counter to the whole point, doesn’t it?

Yes, probably an unusually high proportion of fanfiction is poorly written, but I suspect this is more to do with people treating it as a stepping stone than any inherent flaw with the genre itself. But it’s not a huge difference; where 90% of fiction is varying degrees of bad (I have a Wattpad account I know this for a fact), fanfiction is probably 98%. I have read good, literary-quality fanfiction which needs no more than another draft at most to be good enough to put in a book.

Do you want some examples? Wicked stands out as a published and widely acclaimed piece of fanfiction (There are thorough lists out there, I’ve seen them, I unfortunately can’t remember any at this time). But if you’re interested in reading a few talented authors of fanfic that my feeble mind does recall, @phantomrose96 has some fantastically written My Hero Academia one-shots and her A Breach of Trust is widely praised; suzukiblu on ao3 has convinced me that yuzula is NOT an atla crackship, and has a fascinating writing style besides; and a wound that never heals (always leaves a scar) by wastefulreverie (also on ao3) is a brilliantly written My Hero fic that explores a facet of hero society that canon itself has not proved good enough to comment on, despite the fact that it should be central to the plot.

This has gotten ever so slightly off-topic. Long story short, I realized I never wrote fanfic because it was “practice for something better”. I only write stories that captivate me, that I can’t not write; chances are a lot better that you’re not gonna stop reading it if I can’t stop writing it, right? And those old DP fics, and my more recent much better work, captivated me. And there are fanfiction ideas I have that I may well work on in the future. I wrote Xerxes, a Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction, because a good idea came to me. I wrote Allmom AU, a My Hero Academia fanfiction that has over 26k hits on fanfiction.net and 2k more on ao3 (and close to 1000 hits on Wattpad, too, for that matter), because a good idea came to me. No, I haven’t hit the big-time by any stretch of the imagination, nor am I any authority on fanfiction, but I have written things that a lot of people enjoyed.

I wrote fanfiction because I wanted to, and I’ll write it again in the future because I want to. I won’t ever deny it, nor will I apologize for it.

And you shouldn’t either.

#my posts #fanfiction #I'm a proud fanfic writer #and I'm ok #writing #don't apologize for writing what comes to you #especially if it helps people

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zuzuslastbraincell · 3 years

Note

For the fan fic author asks: F, T, U and V?

F. canon fics or au?

I tend towards AU, but canon-divergence AU? I’m not really interested in a whole new setting unless it’s something I’m interested in (I read a whole ice skating AU in one night a few months ago because I love ice skating, and I’d read a roller derby AU if anyone ever wrote one... Whip It AU WHEN) but even then I find that if you remove things from a canon setting too much you end up losing all the interesting parallels and foils and not everything translates exactly, due to the sociopolitical context being different. The sort of AU I adore is a want-of-a-nail AU. I tend to come up with them all the time - I once wrote a massive plan for a non-bender Zuko AU, but never did anything with it. (I do find AUs which stick too rigidly to the show’s timeframe a little limiting).

I’d def rather read a canon fic over a modern AU, unless it was a particularly interesting or unique modern AU. I find a lot of modern AUs are just USA AUs, which are massively insensitive if not careful (and a lot of writers are not careful).

T. when did you start reading fanfic?

Uh, I think I was 16? It was never a serious thing back then, and it was back on ff.net only. I can’t remember much - I recall reading Fullmetal Alchemist fic more than anything else? Unfortunately the teenage boy character I crushed on when I was 16 was not Zuko but it was Edward Elric. (Anyway EdLing rights and Winry’s a lesbian.)

Anyway, I didn’t read ATLA fic until I watched ATLA in 2016. It was about when Another Brother stopped updating (and I got back into ATLA in time for it to start updating again, amazingly enough).

U. when did you start writing fanfic?

Oh, I wrote fic for the first time when I was 17, after I’d gone through my first break-up (we were pretty serious for a first relationship, and I dealt with that by throwing myself into a writing project), and then after that I wrote again for the first time in 2015 for Mass Effect. I wrote some Liara/Femshep because of course I did.

I only started writing ATLA fic this year. Honestly I’m surprised I didn’t try to write some back in 2016, but I think I was just going through a rough time mentally back then, and wasn’t able to create that much.

V. post the last sentence you wrote.

Her daughter watches the way other people tear themselves apart to make sparks fly and tries to draw lightning from it. Like her mother. Like her father.

I will probably edit the phrasing of this because I’m not too pleased with it and don’t want to imply Azula is cruel because that’s not what’s happening here, but that’s the last sentence I wrote.

#sorry it's 1am and I'm in a chatty mood #sorry for rambling #thank you for asking these!#drowning-in-cacophony

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justlikeeddie · 4 years

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for the ask meme - can I ask you B, R, T, X?

B: What was the first fandom you read fic in? Which was the first you wrote fic for?

The first piece of fanfiction I ever encountered was some terrifyingly explicit Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, which I found very much by accident when I was about 11 or 12. I think I literally didn’t know what fic was, or really understand what I was looking at. (I definitely didn’t understand why anyone would have written about two characters getting together who theoretically didn’t like each other.) But the first time I read fic on purpose was a few years later, when I’d joined LiveJournal, and someone’s Alan Davies/Stephen Fry QI RPF showed up on my friendslist. I remember sending it to a friend and describing it as “a hilarious Stephen Fry love story”, still presumably not understanding that fanfiction was, like, a thing. But I think this led me down the inevitable rabbit hole, and so the first fandom I regularly read fic in was… Stephen Fry RPF? New QI Stephen/Alan fans vs old-school Stephen/Hugh shippers. Wild. Robert Sean Leonard was in some way involved.

Writing-wise, our family computer had a big hard drive crash in about 2006, which meant that— perhaps for the best— I lost any fic I wrote from the ages of about 14 to 16, because I think I was trying to figure out how to write stuff but not actually posting it anywhere. I remember that some existed and I lost it, but I’m genuinely not sure what most of it was, or what would have been written first. I’m guessing the first experiment was probably either something QI-related or the Mighty Boosh, a fandom that I segued into at some point from the Stephen Fry RPF situation, and where I met most of the fandom friends I still now know in real life.

The first fandom in which I started regularly posting fic was Life on Mars, which remains the oldest stuff of mine I can actually find online, and/or am willing to be associated with...

R: Which writers (fanfic or otherwise) do you consider the biggest influence on you and your writing?

@the-omnishambles and I started writing with and for each other about 13 years ago— initially in Life on Mars fandom, in fact— which probably shaped the way I write today more than anything else, and I’m sure I still produce thoughts or sentences or turns of phrase that have some ancestry in her writing. @septembriseur writes probably the most technically impressive fic I’ve ever read, and I’m still trying to emulate her ability to create an astonishingly complete world around a perfectly-calibrated emotional core. Uh, what else. I think I tried to learn how to use restraint from Pat Barker, depth from Michael Chabon, an outsider’s eye from Christopher Isherwood, and surprising quantities of naval terminology from Patrick O’Brian. And Resonant’s How to Write a Sex Scene should be on some kind of curriculum.

I also once read a completely bonkers, unbelievably clever Monty Python RPF story in a former Yuletide— “READ THIS ONE FIRST”— that wasn’t so much a fic as a multimedia experience. There were three versions of the same story, and a bunch of supporting webpages with text and images and video, and you jumped between them all to create the effect of coming unstuck in time. There were Easter Eggs hidden in the source codes of the pages and secret hyperlinks in the little lines used as scene dividers. There was a whole bit where you discovered and logged into a Gmail account set up specifically for the purpose of existing within the world of the story. It blew my fucking mind, and I think about it semi-regularly to this day— which, having just looked it up again, is apparently a full decade later. I think some memory of this story, including the buffeting back and forth in time, made me want to write Your Mirror, although obviously that became significantly less complicated and clever an idea; but I think originally I’d wanted to hide clues and surprises in it in the same sort of way. Anyway, I think lots of the external links and stuff don’t work any more, but I might go back and read this again nonetheless.

T: Any fanfic tropes you can’t stand?

There’s stuff I don’t tend to read, but I’m not sure there’s anything I can’t stand the existence of. Like, I’m not particularly interested in coffee shop AUs or kidfic or mpreg, but it’s fine that they’re there and that other people are enjoying them. (This doesn’t include that one mad Merlin RPF mpreg fic that I think about constantly and is obviously the pinnacle of literature.)

I don’t tend towards an interest in AUs or wildly canon-altering tropes in general, I guess, because I think when I get into a fandom I’m usually interested in its world as well as its characters, and how the specificities of that time and place and situation affect those characters. This doesn’t mean I don’t understand why people like seeing how other situations affect the same characters, but all the same, the trappings of 60s policing is partly why I want to read about Endeavour, the politics and philosophy of the early 18th century is partly why I want to read about Black Sails, etc etc. So, like, I’m not going to read your modern-day vampire AU, but I will defend to the death your right to publish it, as I believe the big man Voltaire once said.

X: How would you categorize your fanfic reading? Are you a voracious reader? Do you carefully pick and choose? Something in between?

I tend to follow recs and favourites from people whose taste I trust to agree broadly with mine, although sometimes I’ll just trundle around a pairing tag on AO3 looking for a summary that grabs me. And then, obviously, if I particularly love a story, I’ll try and follow up on the rest of that author’s work too.

I’ve been reading almost exclusively Good Omens since last summer, and optimistically opened SO many tabs in June and July that I’m literally STILL working through them. It’s hard to compare like for like in different fandoms of different sizes: I guess I read a far greater proportion of the fic that existed in the JSMN fandom, including literally an entire anonymeme, and was probably less choosy about it than in something like Good Omens, where the sheer volume of content makes that level of coverage impossible.

(Fanfiction ask meme)

#memes #fic #replies #monty python #stephen fry #merlin #good omens

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barbika1508 · 6 years

Text

Hidden agendas (Peter Pevensie x Reader/ Slight Angst)

Word Count: 3,8k

Type: Drabble, Modern AU

Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Bit of angst

Pairing: Peter Pevensie x Reader, Lucy Pevensie x Reader(Friendship)

Authors note/ Summary(Kinda): This is another type of fic I’ve wrote a year ago and it has been left unfinished as it has been sitting in a folder somewhere. So, I decided to post some parts as again, I got missing bits in between. I think my idea back then was that Y/N was related to the royalty of Narnia, the previous kings and queens before the Pevensie’s and Jadis (The long winter in this story lasts 10 years), and she was summoned to Narnia by the letter that her late parents sealed for 21 years. So, she turns into a princess overnight with a choice to become a queen. And this is the period in between, of her getting to know Narnia and her developing relationship with the Pevensie’s…I guess…something along these lines.

‘’Do you need that alarm clock?’’

‘’What?’’

‘’That one, the red simple one.’’

‘’Am…not in particular it was a gift.’’

‘’It doesn’t work.’’

‘’Yeah, Ed took out the batteries and suspicious looking “gadgets”. It’s from a country we’re not on a friend level with, and getting something simple as this for a gift, it leads into suspicion.’’ Lucy explains rotating the small square simple alarm clock in between her delicate fingers.

‘’Welllllll…your brother is in the right mind for precautions. Despite how annoying he might appear to you at those moments. Or others.’’ I smirk by the end of my sentence to which she shakes her head but still looks amused but makes her way across the room to me.

‘’Here, it’s junk either way. Like most of the stuff in my room.’’ She hands me over the small device and lets out a deep sigh, turning ahead and starts to approach her bed once more.

‘’Those are not your words.’’ I point out, eyes trained onto the clock as I spin around on her desk chair, to her desk. But I take a moment and glance up at her, as she sits onto the middle and edge of her bed, now the big lights turned off, and the camera momentarily turned off as well. She smirks but tiredly.

‘’They are starting to become.’’ She says as she picks up the few piece of papers that hold the script she wrote for herself. Not only is Lucy the youngest of the Pevensie’s and a Queen running a whole country at the age of 17 but she’s also a youtuber. Popular one too.

‘’Your sister can be a pain in the ass do you know that?!’’ I point out turning forward to the many screws and small wires that I’ve displayed over the clean and clear table that I’ve messed up and created chaos upon. Lucy chuckles while I feel her eyes on me, as I unscrew the small screws in the gift given alarm clock.

‘’What makes you say that?’’ she dares me instead to which I shrug.

‘’She’s controlling.’’ I reply ‘’Too much if you ask me. If I was in your shoes…well then…’’ I click my tongue pulling off the mainframe from the device. Edmund did a good job on pulling out the main power source from it.

‘’Then it’s a good thing you’re not in my shoes.’’ She says ‘’Not yet at least.’’ She adds to which I glance up at her. But she’s smirking at me, the gentle and genuine smile that she always offers me. Unlike most of the royal family, and counselors. I smirk mischievously instead shaking my head as I look up and start to remove pieces of the alarm clock by hand.

‘’What do you think my decision will be?’’ I ask her honestly. And then silence settles. Which I’ve expected. By the time I’m done remodeling the alarm clock, she speaks up.

‘’You’ll stay.’’ She says to which I glance up at her standing up and flattening the front of her dress as she stalks forward ‘’I know you love Narnia. I know it means a lot to you, I know you relate to certain things. Even remember some from when you were younger.’’ I raise an eyebrow up at her to which she nods as she stops on the edge of the white table and looks at the many pieces ‘’I’ve seen you listen to a song once and then singing it already in the next time around of listening it.’’

‘’What if I have excellent memory, or how do you know that I just don’t calculate the estimated words that would appear in the song?’’ I raise both eyebrows at her but she laughs instead shaking her head, which causes her long hair to fall around her face, before she tilts her head looking up at me.

‘’I do consider you a close friend Y/N. Please don’t doubt me.’’ She says now to which I laugh and look at her shyly.

‘’Aw Lu.’’ I reply, raising my hand up ‘’High Five for friendship!’’ I exclaim. She rolls her eyes at me but chuckles and meets my hand ‘’Oh yeah.’’ I add on and turn forward to the wires that I’m braiding together.

‘’I do hope you will stay.’’ She breaks another moment of silence, which makes my head snap up.

‘’Why? So far you’re the only one tolerating me.’’ I add her face turning sadder but the smile remains on her face.

‘’You know by know how my brothers and sister are. And you’re an artist and all Y/N so try to think out of the box a bit. If not try.’’ With that she turns around and walks to her set up, now turning on the lights and camera. Think outside of the box?

I frown slightly as I look across the many pieces on the table.

‘’Can you look if the camera is focused?’’ Lucy calls preventing me from falling into a brainstorm about her words. I nod turning around and tangling my legs together I almost fall forward, but only stumble. She laughs amusedly from across her room, settled on her bed, as I shake my head and smile at myself as I walk to the camera. A few moments alter and press of a few buttons she’s focused on the screen. I press play and place my pointing finger over my mouth, then give her a thumbs up as I back away, my bare feet not making any noise as most of her floor is carpeted.

But sitting down, the chair squeaks making me frown. But Lucy only laughs instead eyes focused on me, as I turn around and hunch myself closer to the table as she grins widely. I reach for my headphones and place them over my head. Another thumbs up she mimics me to which I show her my tongue while she still giggling turns to the camera instead. Music starts playing through the headphones dulling out the sounds in the background as I get to work.

My mind travels down, into the work I’m making, my fingers moving faster that my train of process but I’m used to it. I know what I’m doing. It’s fun. This is like I’m building a puzzle. I imagine it as a puzzle. Which makes it all the more fun, when piece after piece it falls together.

I don’t even know how much time passes but when a cool breeze hits the back of my neck, I shake my shoulders hating the weird cool shiver that runs up and down my spine, it causes my concentration to break. I hate the feeling following because it’s a feeling like I’ve just woken up. I examine the half finishes chip I’ve assembled. Looking up I immediately notice the extra person in the room. I turn around to see the blonde High King with a smirk watching his sister as she talks into the camera. He’s in simple sweats today, a simple t-shirt.

His eyes dart to me, the smile slightly disappearing from his lips. I don’t give him another minute of my time and turn forward instead. Glancing towards Lucy she’s grinning widely as she shrugs at the camera, looking adorable. I can’t help but to smile. With that I know my concentration is messed up for now as he entered the room. We haven’t seen each other properly since the argument a week ago. I’ve saw him and the girl passing, my room and I’ve stumbled on them leaving a trail of clothes in their wake in the middle of the night. I was hungry. Doesn’t explain why he turned on me suddenly stopped talking and started to hold up a cold demander.

So, now I start to pick up all the small pieces and throw them into the trash bin that I pulled to the chair, in between my legs. Its effective like this the pieces don’t go nearly everywhere. Finishing up I lower my headphones down the music automatically lowering down until it stops playing. I glance up at Lucy again that’s saying her outro, but I feel the High King now close behind me, his curiosity or cautiousness brining him here.

I push the almost finished chip and Lucy’s old camera to the side, ready for me to tinker with them next time. The alarm clock is already working thanks to me, no spying gear on sight.

‘’…see you next time. Byeeee!!!’’ she greets happily as I turn forward and give Peter a stare as he’s looking suddenly like he’s being caught. But I quickly look at Lucy and get up walking towards the camera. She gives me a nod as I press the button, stopping the recording.

‘’By the sound of the outro, a job well done.’’ I state smirking as she jumps to her feet.

‘’Yeah I think I did good today.’’ She grins and turns back ‘’What do you think Pete?’’ she asks as she walks and stands next to me. I don’t waste my time, and put distance between us, pretending to get busy with turning off the giant lights that actually warmed up the whole room.

‘’From what I’ve seen it’s going to be amazing Lu. Good job.’’ He praises her to which she grins ear to ear but then turns to look at me.

‘’The software is uploaded and ready for you, so you can give it a try.’’ I say turning off the last light and turn to her completely ignoring her older brother, his eyes burning holes into me ‘’I set up also a tutorial so you won’t get lost. If you need anything, text or call me.’’

‘’What, where are you going?’’ she frowns while I pull my phone out of my pocket and just on time my uncle is calling me, to which I show her my screen and she immediately nods

‘’Business meeting.’’ I point out smirking but look down at myself. I’m wearing a simple iron man shirt and some sweats ‘’Yeah damn, I need to change.’’ I frown to which Lucy giggles and rushes past me and Peter who has a small smirk on his face.

‘’Good thing you have me.’’ Lucy points out marching into her walking closet, while I quickly write down a message to my uncle telling him I’ll be 5 minutes late.

‘’Company meeting?’’ Peter asks me as Lucy’s yelling is muffled from the other room. I nod my head furrowing my brows ‘’You know we have conference rooms, that you could use.’’ He points out standing there with his arms crossed while I lock my phone and look at him, neutrally.

‘’Yeah Lucy offered already.’’ I reply neutrally and turn forward to Lucy that rushes out, holding a blazer and a fancy white blouse ‘’That looks expensive!’’ I point out raising my hands up in defense but she pushes the two piece of cloth right into my hands and pushes me gently, stepping behind me and properly uses some force.

‘’You’ll be great; I’ll stop by later to check on you.’’ She rambles and opens the door for me.

‘’Lu it’s not really necessary…’’ I start but we’re already out of her room.

‘’Knock them dead Y/N!’’ she exclaims giving me a half hug before she giggles, and waves and then rushes back to her room, closing the doors behind me. I shake my head and look down at the clothes, and think of how ridiculous this girl is. Until my phone rings; then I’m rushing like crazy forward instead the previous moments monetarily forgotten.

Peter’s P.O.V.

‘’…by the power invested in me by Aslan, I…’’ the giggles coming from the video keep on interrupting and breaking my concentration. My fingers continue to write forward, but my eyes dart to my side and the other laptop. I can see both girls my sister and Y/N laughing like crazy, before my sister disappears from the frame and the older girl remains sitting there, eyes focused away at something behind the camera.

Lucy giggles next to me, making me roll my eyes as I sigh and stop typing and turn to her laptop now curiously watching the girl on the screen, pulling ridiculous faces at the camera, while Lucy is dying from laughter behind the camera and next to me. She pulls her headphones out so the sound is clearer which makes me look at her.

‘’I never knew Y/N could be this funny. She’s funny we know that but she has that comedy streak.’’ Lu explains as we watch the said girl trying to make a certain pose on the edge of the bed but then, her hand slips and she goes tumbling to the ground accidentally. This time we both laugh as well as Lucy did back on the video with small giggles leaving Y/N’s mouth.

‘’Funny or clumsy?’’ I say when we calm down and see the girl picking herself up, but lie down across the bed sprawled comfortably her eyes darting up towards the half of the glass roof that’s above us.

‘’Both.’’ Lu says sighing as we watch on the video Lu joining the girl, and start explaining the legend of the lion, that she has in the glass roof. I don’t pay much attention as I know the story by heart, and it’s one of my favorite ones. I watch Y/N instead that’s listening to it. Her face just lights up, and every time before she tells a joke she gets extra giddy about it, then pleased when she manages to make Lucy laugh.

‘’You like her don’t you?’’ Lucy suddenly states which makes me jump a bit as I look up at her fond expression.

‘’What?’’ I ask a bit with too much rush and sharpness ‘’No I don’t!’’ I add but even I hear the obvious high pitch in my tone and the obvious denial. I sigh after my words as she giggles, while I sag back against the headboard and lean sideways laying my head onto her shoulder, while she reaches for my hand and pats it.

‘’There, there big brother, maybe one day you’ll grow up actually.’’ She teases me to which I roll my eyes, and pinch her side making her squeal.

‘’You’re the one who needs to grow up.’’ I snap back playfully but her smirk turns smug as I think quickly and recap the words that just left my mouth ‘’No don’t never grow up you hear me?!’’ I exclaim to which she only breaks into a fit of laughter and lies sideways resting her head onto my lap as I pushed my laptop to the side of the big queen size bed, that she sleeps in. I can’t help but to smile down, and rest my hand on top of her head a she calms down her matching blue eyes looking up at me, as I settle back comfortably against the headboard.

‘’I still don’t know why you’re going along with Susan with this whole…things. It’s stupid.’’ She states while I pick up her laptop and place it down onto my knees.

‘’Because she is right. We need to be logical about this.’’ I reply the words coming now easier to my mouth as I’ve repeated them multiple times. But I can’t hide the irritation before my sister, that is growing inside me every time this theme comes along. She snorts rolling her eyes and turns forward to her computer, deciding to ignore me.

‘’By doing so you appear very cold as well. Douche-y.’’ she states to which I raise an eyebrow as the last term I know from who it originally is.

‘’Douche-y?’’ I ask her as she makes herself comfortable letting the video play, while she doesn’t want to look at me. That much she’s stating obviously.

‘’You heard me.’’ She replies and falls silent. I frown to myself knowing if I press this matter further she will get angrier and defensive. She has made up her mind about Y/N that much she made clear already when Susan stated and warned us to stay away from her. Which Lucy didn’t and they’ve became closer despite Susan’s tactic to keep Lu as busy as she could. Our younger sister is very resourceful, and went up against worse “enemies” than our sister. And me.

But on one hand I can’t help but to agree with Lu.

I know myself enough to admit that I like the strange girl with a mysterious past that happens to be related to the real royalty of Narnia. The true heir. She’s smart, well a genius to be precise which makes her at times wacky but in a good way. She’s brutally honest most of the time I’ve discovered myself. We did talk a lot when we hung out together. She’s a nice girl that has seen hell in her life. We aren’t so much alike from her. But my sister doesn’t see it that way.

And yet I know her logic is in the right place, this whole ‘true heir thing’ just came out of nowhere. So, did Y/N. It’s not her fault that’s obvious, nothing of this is her fault and she doesn’t deserve it. I know that. Lucy knows it better than any of us. She believes in Aslan and she believes in his Y/N honesty despite knowing her only for 5 months. But lots can change during that kind of time. A lot changed in a week too.

And it was my fault. This whole thing…I hold some of the blame in this whole situation. Which its eating me alive at time. Especially these past few days, whenever Y/N she stumbles upon me and…

I don’t know what drove me to act this way. To call up Madeline just like that after I’ve broke everything between us. The girl is delusional till a point. But I’ve been acting even more since the day Susan told us off and made an order. I’m blindly following a cause I don’t believe in for a second. It’s not fair not to myself let alone to Y/N.

My phone brings me back from my thoughts, making me look sideways and the screen, Madeline’s name flashing on the screen. I notice Lu glancing at it and with a disgusted expression for a moment she gets up and sits by herself taking her laptop back while I pick up my phone and just turn it off.

‘’Aren’t you going answer it?’’ Lucy asks showing me her back, as I fall to my side, and wrap am arm around her while with the other I prop my head and look up at her despite her refusal to look at me.

‘’I’m spending time with my favorite sister. No one is allowed to interrupt it.’’ I reply, earning myself a glance from her.

‘’If you have work to do, don’t let me interrupt you.’’ She states which breaks my heart even more. She’d never says something like this in the past. Because whenever I took my time or she arranged for our schedules to align, our time together was precious. She’d get very angry at whoever interrupted us for any small detail. It was always funny to see her fuming over someone just asking if we needed anything. But now it was the complete opposite. It was as if she didn’t want to spend time with me anymore. Like I’ve offender her.

‘’I’ve cleared my schedule, I’m here to help you edit. You know the usual.’’ I say but she stands up from the bed instead.

‘’I’m fine Peter don’t need your help.’’ She stalks over to her table instead leaving me just sitting in her bed.

‘’What did I do?’’ I ask going straight to the point now getting irritated at her behavior ‘’You don’t even want to look at me!’’

Now she turns around jaw clenching. She is mad ‘’That’s a very stupid question right there.’’ She snaps at me ‘’You’re a jerk. You’ve been acting like a complete jerk some time now. And it’s not fair!’’

‘’I’m the same as always!’’ I point out glaring back at her, as she shakes her head.

‘’You’ve all been acting like jerks not just you, but you’ve been the biggest one jet! Susan at least ignores her, Edmund is over analyzing her, and she’s only a human while you…’’ she points her finger at me standing up from her chair at the table ‘’You’re playing with her heart with her emotions which is very low, coming from you.’’

‘’I’m not playing with her emotions! She doesn’t even like me Lucy! If she would she’d be a crying mess by, because she caught me and Madeline. She doesn’t care.’’ Her eyes widen at me, before the blue in them turns ice cold.

‘’Not everyone shows they’re emotions so freely like some Peter. She doesn’t need to cry to show she’s hurt you idiot!’’ she shakes her head, hands in fists as she’s shaking with rage ‘’We’ve been through a lot, you are the only one that know what it’s like to have to hold back your fears and emotions. Not to cry in front of anyone! What makes you think it’s any different for her?!’’ she points out in which her words click in my mind ‘’She’s here in a foreign land for the first time in her life, with strangers surrounding her 24/7. She doesn’t know what we want from her, she doesn’t know her past or Aslan. Her picture of him is not all that sprinkled in flowers and smiles like ours is. And yet she is doing her best to stay strong to simply smile back and be polite!’’

She rants walking up and down ‘’And you three are being jerks for bringing her down. She’s hurting alright?! She doesn’t have to say anything or cry for me to know that she’s hurting bad. Just like I know you like her, because you still do she likes you okay?! I know for a fact she doesn’t go around and admit that to whoever.’’

She pauses and takes a deep breath ‘’Now if you please I have work to do.’’ With that she shows me her back and goes back to sit on her table.

‘’Lu.’’ I say wanting to defend myself back but she puts her headphones on instead ‘’Lucy!’’ I call but she ignores me, glaring at the screen as she taps the mouse in an angry manner. I sigh as I fall back onto the bed, watching my sister angrily continue and do her thing, while I feel like the biggest piece of shit for the moment.

I know everything she said, she is right about. Which makes this all much worse. I need to fix this.

#narnia fanfiction #narnia imagine #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie imagine #lucy pevensie #narnia drabble #narnia angst #narnia modern au

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louisfeatharry · 6 years

Photo

the end of 2017 is nearing, and while one direction may have gone on hiatus two years ago, fandom participation has stayed strong, particularly in fanfiction! for those of you who are following me, you’ll know that i’ve read a lot this year, and i love rec-ing fics whenever i can. so i thought i’d share my list of my favorite fics from this past year.

and thus! here is part one of my list of my favorite fics from 2017!

note: all fics listed have been completed in 2017, although some may have started in previous years.

in alphabetical order:

Atlas At Last by louisandthealien

Be Still by thisonegoes

Black with Autumn Rain by whimsicule

Cold Little Heart by seducedbycurls

cupid’s defence by harbb

Deuxsphere by sweetlullabies

Emperor’s New Clothes by sunsetmog

got the sunshine on my shoulders by hattalove

Homegrown by casuallyhl

It Comes and Goes in Waves/It Always Does by roaroftheninth

keep the light on by renlyne

Life Was a Song, You Came Along by rainbowninja167

like a boomerang by youwilll

Like an Endless Summer by objectlesson

Looking Through You by allwaswell16

all information on the fics is under the cut.

Atlas At Last by louisandthealien [@louisandthealien] (83k) Harry/Louis, 1970s AU, road trip, ot5 friendship, strangers to friends to lovers

He doesn’t know what he had been expecting out of the road trip itself besides burping contests and too much shitty gas station food with Oli and Stan, but in the brief moment before Harry ambles up his driveway, Louis idly wonders if this is about to become some sort of Gay Coming of Age story.

Maine to California in ten days. In which Zayn’s an open-shirt hippie they meet somewhere in Ohio, Liam’s the pastor’s son running away from home, and Niall’s the number they call on the bathroom wall.

It’s 1978. Harry and Louis are just trying to get to San Fran in time for the Queen concert.

⇨ read on ao3

Be Still by thisonegoes [@this-onegoes] (150k) Zayn/Harry, murder mystery, detective AU, hurt/comfort

Zayn hears the telltale sound of stretcher wheels bouncing up over a weather strip. A tech backs out of the door first, as both Zayn and Harry turn to watch. They wheel the black body bag out and lift it down the stairs, to take her away. She's officially cleared for transport, no longer a resident of the household. She's now just a corpse wrapped in plastic.

When they finally turn back to one another, Harry blinks and then shatters into pieces.

Detective Zayn AU.

⇨ read on ao3

Black with Autumn Rain by whimsicule [@whimsicule] (93k) Harry/Louis, magical realism, thriller

“Thank you,” Geoff says, taking a sip of his tea. “What did you tell him?”

Louis has a sip as well, lets the tea burn down his throat too quickly, too hot, and he feels it all the way down to his stomach. “The truth. Essentially,” he replies after a moment, licking his lips, relishing the slightly bitter taste of the brew that’s never quite strong enough for Louis’ liking. At least it’s not decaf. “That my dog scented it. That I didn’t touch the body. That I came here first thing.”

Geoff nods pensively. “Did he believe you?”

“Probably not. There’s only so many people who can drown on dry land before it gets fishy.”

or: Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren't exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

⇨ read on ao3

Cold Little Heart by seducedbycurls [@seduced-by-curls] (194k) Harry/Louis, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, werewolves, hurt/comfort

Louis is a soft omega with an abusive past and an alpha child.

A few months after getting a divorce, Louis meets Harry, an ex-military alpha wolf that offers him something -odd.

In exchange for teaching him how to cook, Harry will babysit his son, Abraham.

Louis really could use the help.

⇨ read on ao3

cupid’s defence by harbb (116k) Harry/Louis, Cupid AU, lawyer AU, fantasy & supernatural

In which Harry is Cupid, Louis and Liam own a law firm, and they're all getting sued.

⇨ read on ao3

Deuxsphere by sweetlullabies (156k) Harry/Louis, college/university AU, soulmates/soulmate-identifying marks AU, enemies to friends to lovers

The way the vines of the rose curled around the sharp straightness of the dagger was an image that was going to be forever embedded into his mind. The longer Harry craned his neck to look at it in the mirror, the more he realized—it was fucking creepy. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why it was there, or why humans decided to make it mean something.

Harry's first year at uni is guaranteed to be a breeze as long as he stays focused, steers clear of flying footballs, and completely avoids boys who are in bands.

⇨ read on ao3

* as a note, this is my favorite fic of 2017.

Emperor’s New Clothes by sunsetmog [@magicalrocketships] (92k) Harry/Louis, famous/nonfamous AU, exes to lovers, secret relationship

The fact that Louis’s most precious belonging was a cat with a face like thunder and an uncanny ability to cover every single inch of Louis’s clothing with cat hair was something that Louis chose not to think about too much.

or: Harry’s a pop star and Louis isn’t, and there’s a non-disclosure agreement where there used to be a relationship.

⇨ read on ao3

got the sunshine on my shoulders by hattalove [@hattalove] (124k) Harry/Louis, famous/nonfamous AU, exes to lovers, Sweet Home Alabama AU

five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

⇨ read on ao3

Homegrown by casuallyhl [@casuallyhl] (51k) Harry/Louis, gardens & gardening, strangers to friends to lovers

“It wasn’t an easy decision, if I’m honest,” Harry admits, shoulders sagging in on himself. “Moving is really difficult. My whole life was in Manchester. But Manchester didn’t want me. Leeds did.”

“Well, Leeds is happy to have you,” Louis says, giving Harry a kind smile.

Harry brightens a bit at that, undeniably pleased. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis replies, expression soft and lips curved.

Or, a gardening AU where Harry is new to town and the newest volunteer at the local gardening club, Louis is the attractive grandson of one of the members, and the nosy volunteers hatch a plan to get them together.

⇨ read on ao3

It Comes and Goes in Waves/It Always Does by roaroftheninth [@almost-a-class-act] (50k) Harry/Louis, World War II AU, post-war AU

“He says that he’s grateful for that ending, because he always wanted to imagine it like that and you were always a better storyteller than he was. But that’s not the ending that should be published, because it’s not the truth.”

Summary: It is 1953; Louis makes that nine years since they won the war (eight if you count the Americans, which he never does). His first novel, a best-seller set during wartime, is due for a sequel - but Louis doesn't want to face the ending.

⇨ read on ao3

keep the light on by renlyne [@daretomarvel] (43k) Harry/Nick Grimshaw, canon compliant, future fic, friends to lovers

but·ter·fly ef·fect noun 1. (with reference to chaos theory) the phenomenon whereby a minute localized change in a complex system can have large effects elsewhere. 2. a cumulatively large effect that a very small or seemingly insignificant natural force may produce over a period of time.

In which Harry Styles tears up over glitter, and Nick Grimshaw’s life becomes immeasurably more complicated.

Or: it’s 2020, and really, better late than never.

⇨ read on ao3

Life Was a Song, You Came Along by rainbowninja167 [@rainbowninja] (37k) Harry/Louis, Singin’ in the Rain AU, famous/nonfamous AU

It's embarrassing how long it takes Louis to recognize his own song. Niall had sung it as a bright, hopeful love song, and that’s honestly how Louis had always assumed it should sound. But this new voice, slow and rough, stripped of any backing instrument, has infused the lyrics with just the tumultuous mix of fear and defiance that Louis can remember so clearly from the night he wrote them. It’s not a comfortable thing, to feel like someone is singing all your secrets back to you.

Louis is a songwriter trapped in a lie that could ruin his best friend's career. Harry owns a record store, distrusts everyone in the music industry on principle, but loves Niall Horan's newest album. A modern retelling of Singin' in the Rain.

⇨ read on ao3

like a boomerang by youwilll (51k) Harry/Louis, college/university AU, Groundhog Day AU, pining

AU in which Harry gets trapped in a lift, Louis gets stuck in a Wednesday, and it's always February 2nd. Until it isn't.

⇨ read on ao3

Like an Endless Summer by objectlesson (87k) Harry/Louis, summer camp AU, friends to lovers

“You just wanna go fawn over Styles as soon as possible,” Zayn grumbles.

“I do not. Plus, he probably got ugly this year. Eighteen is an awkward time...I bet he’s got acne and one of those terrible fuckboy haircuts all the hipsters are getting these days, with the shaved sides? Just watch, the first year we’re gonna get any time together is gonna be the first year I don’t have a stupid crush on him.”

---

Or, Louis is a riding instructor at a summer camp, and Harry is a fellow counselor who he’s been successfully managing his crush on for the last two summers. That is, until Harry shows up this year leveled up and lethal, and all Louis’s formerly perfected veneer of nonchalance melts like a popsicle in the sun.

⇨ read on ao3

Looking Through You by allwaswell16 [@allwaswell16] (41k) Harry/Louis, famous/nonfamous AU, roommates, friends to lovers

Just as Louis and Liam were starting out in the music industry, writing and producing for up and coming artists, a fateful meeting with new pop singer Harry Styles changes everything. Four years later, just as Harry is set to embark on his next world tour, a drunken confession causes a rift between once inseparable friends. As Harry tries to make sense of his feelings for Louis, he begins writing his next album to express them as it may be the only way to break through the walls that Louis has built between them.

⇨ read on ao3

and that’s it for part one! part two will be coming out soon! x

credits for resources in banner: saturnthms (gradient), resourcescollection (galaxy texture), & kaeveeoh-art (speech bubble animation)

#favefics2017 #fic rec list

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lyssala · 6 years

Text

Future

Pairing: Terra/Aqua (gotta end it with the brot3 too ;-;), Kindom Hearts

Words: 3375

Rating: K+

Notes: WOW low key got really emotional writing the end of this. Thank you guys so much for reading and being so encouraging to me. I was terrified to start writing for a new fandom but you all have been nothing but so nice! I really loved writing these stories and giving these sweet children a happy ending (hopefully canon does the same haha). They deserve all the happiness ;-; I just really loved writing this story, thank you so much for all the kind words you’ve given me <3

That being said, while this story does have a hard end I’m not ready to say goodbye to writing them cause omg I love it so much haha So I do have a few more plans for this year including two 3 chapter fics (a modern au one and canon one which is actually the first thing I ever wrote for KH but I was too scared to post it lmao), a one shot collection to dump random drabbles, and maybe a modern au set too. So yeah, I hope you enjoy this last one from the sweet sunshine boy’s perspective <3

AO3 (Which has all ten chapters <3)

Ven woke up so suddenly he nearly fell out of his bed. His heart was pounding in his chest, he felt too hot for blankets but too cold to kick them off, stomach reeling in such a way he had to swallow hard. The worst of it was when he looked around the room it seemed like every shadow was alive. He shut his eyes, unsure if his mind was playing tricks on him or if the room really was spinning.

He opened them again and this time while everything stayed in place, it didn’t help him feel any better. Ven tried to sit up in bed but he found the cool air on his body sent chills through him despite feeling like he was sweating. He reached his hands up to rub his face. He knew he should probably just go back to bed and try to sleep it off but a part of him knew he couldn’t sleep like this.

Was he sick or was it just a really bad nightmare he couldn’t remember? The latter wouldn’t really surprise him but he usually woke up scared, not feeling like he was gonna throw up. Maybe water would help but that would also require him to walk all the way to the kitchen.

The thought made him feel a little sicker but it was either stay here and potentially feel worse or find some kinda solution. He pulled himself out of bed and headed to his door which he happened to leave open that night. The hallway felt cool but he couldn’t tell if that was the way it really was or if it was just him feeling gross.

Ven reached a hand up to his head as he walked. It still wasn’t hurting too much but he did feel a little dizzy again. He reached his other hand out to the wall, trying to steady himself. Both Aqua and Terra’s rooms where nearby and Ven thought about maybe going to one of them instead but their doors were closed. He knew neither would care but Ven didn’t wanna bother them either, not when they had the exam coming up.

He kept walking down the hallway, though a bit slowly, till he reached the stairs that would take him down to the kitchen. Maybe he could find some crackers or something to help. Ven grimaced at the thought; his stomach started to turn. Okay, maybe just the water.

He placed his hand on the railing to start to head down but something caught his attention. There was laughter coming from the other end of the hall.

He furrowed his forehead at the sound. As far as he knew there weren’t any guests and Terra and Aqua were in their rooms. Ven let go of the railing and started to follow where he thought he heard the noise. He felt a little dizzy as he walked but curiosity momentarily helped him ignore how he was feeling.

There wasn’t too much down this particular hallway, just a few guest rooms. Ven was about to think he was just hearing things when he saw light peeking through a doorway. There was a deeper voice talking but it was so low Ven couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. For a moment he thought may be it was just Master Eraqus, which meant Ven really should just walk away and go to get his drink of water but the curiosity was too strong.

As carefully as he could, he turned the doorknob and cracked open the door enough so he could peek in.

Despite the fact placement was unusual, the sight was rather usual. Ven honestly shouldn’t have been surprised Terra and Aqua made it look like they were asleep but really weren’t in the least. Why a random guest room Ven wasn’t quite sure, maybe just to throw their Master off their trail should he realize they were up after curfew.

They weren’t really doing much; Terra was sitting up against the backboard of the bed, eyes looking up at the ceiling as he recited something to Aqua. She was laying down on her stomach facing him but had a book in her hands. He paused in what he was saying causing Aqua to hit him in the arm even though she wasn’t looking up at him. Terra rolled his eyes and said something though Ven’s mind wasn’t processing just what at the current moment.

It was odd almost, a strange sort of unease slipped into Ven’s mind, reminding him of his stomachache. It was like he was nervous, like he shouldn’t be there even though he very well knew they probably wouldn’t have cared. Ven honestly didn’t know how to explain it but watching them when they didn’t know anyone else was around was vastly different than just the way they usually hung out.

Ven carefully closed the door but he apparently wasn’t careful enough.

“Hello?” Aqua said, her voice clear in the otherwise quiet hall.

He contemplated leaving, pretending like he was never there. There would be no harm in it.

“Ven?” That time it was Terra, and Ven supposed there was no use in hiding now. One of them would probably come to the hall before he could get far enough away.

He pushed open the door, standing in the entrance to the room and feeling a little awkward despite the previous intimate atmosphere of the room pretty much dissolving when he stepped in. He reached a hand behind his head, and tried to smile but he was only reminded how sick he actually felt. “Sorry,” he murmured, his voice coming out more choked than he expected. “I heard your voices.”

“It’s fine,” Terra said, though he was sitting up a little straighter than he had been moments ago. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Aqua seemed to notice something was wrong right away as she was already sitting up and halfway off the bed; not that Ven was terribly surprised. “You look pale, is something wrong?”

He wanted to play it off, he didn’t need to be babied after all; then he could leave them alone, could just get his water and go back to bed. His head started to spin a little again, his stomach turning as it did. Ven closed his eyes to make it go away but it didn’t seem to help at all. “I don’t feel good,” he said, though he honestly had no idea if it came out coherent or not.

It must’ve because there was a cool touch on his forehead. When he opened his eyes, Aqua was crouched down in front of him, the palm of her hand against his face. She looked a little concerned but it was comforting in a way.

“You’re burning up, Ven,” she said.

No, that couldn’t be right. “I’m freezing.”

“Is it a fever?” Terra asked, still sitting on the edge of the bed but watching them attentively.

Aqua dropped her hand to Ven’s cheek. “Sure seems that way.”

He was vaguely aware of what that meant and he knew he should probably leave, the last thing he wanted to do was make them sick too. “I should go,” he said but he honestly could barely recognize the words falling from his lips. The room started to spin again and as a reflex he reached out to her shoulders to be able to steady himself. “I’ll be okay.”

“Maybe so, but why don’t you come warm up under the blankets for a little bit?”

Ven nodded, it did sound nice.

“Okay, c’mon then.” She placed her hand on his shoulder and carefully led him along side of the bed.

He honestly didn’t even really remember getting into the bed, he was just suddenly surrounded by warm blankets and a soft pillow under his head. The chills at least stopped but his stomach and head still felt dizzy. It was kinda weird to describe his stomach as dizzy but that’s what it felt like.

“Do you want us to stay with you?” Aqua asked, reaching a hand over to brush some of his hair from his face as she sat down near him.

Ven felt Terra lean over the other side of the bed, probably waiting for an answer as well. Ven knew he should say no, to not keep them up with him, to go back to his own bed and just sleep it off but he was so warm, and as dumb as it seemed, having them there looking over him just made him feel better.

“Yes,” he said.

With no word of disagreement Terra flopped down on the bed, laying down on his back while Aqua moved to lay on her side; both effectively sandwiching Ven in the center of the bed.

“Try and sleep,” Terra said, his voice low, it was more soothing than Ven would’ve thought. “I’ll take you back to your room if it gets too late.”

His eyelids were getting heavy, almost impossible to keep them open. He found his head hurt less when they were closed anyways. Ven wasn’t sure if he’d actually fall asleep or just rest, even though he was really comfortable and it was nice and warm between the blankets and Terra and Aqua. A yawn pulled at Ven’s lips as Aqua hummed some sort of melody. He wasn’t really sure if he had ever heard it before, though it sounded distantly familiar. Ven couldn’t even dwell on it, he was asleep in moments.

He didn’t even really know how much he fell asleep until he opened his eyes and it was dark. He panicked for a moment completely forgetting where he was but when he tried to sit up he found he couldn’t, the blankets were pinned at his sides.

Ven blinked in the darkness. Terra was still on the side of the bed though he was on his stomach now, arms tucked under his pillow as he slept. Aqua was still curled up on Ven’s other side, sound asleep too. A smile pulled at his lips as he settled back down into his spot in the center. One of them must’ve flipped the lights off when the other fell asleep.

He sighed and closed his eyes again. He didn’t really even have a chance to question if he was feeling better, all he knew was he was safe.

Ven breathed in a deep breath of warm air as he stepped outside. The sun was already starting to set but it didn’t change the temperature at all. Summer was on its way back and he couldn’t be happier about it. He stepped down on the stone path, barefoot as he decided not to hunt for his shoes before coming outside.

He glanced over the green grass near the front of the castle but he didn’t see anyone. He could try the lake he supposed. It wasn’t that far of a walk anyways.

Normally he’d leave Terra and Aqua alone after dinner knowing they had to spend mostly all day with him and the others. As much as he was used to having so many others near his age to hang out with now, sometimes he missed it when it was just the three of them. So he went out to find them, wherever they were.

They usually didn’t go too far just in case, so Ven kept peaking around the area trying to find at least Aqua whose hair stood out more than Terra’s. Sure enough, they were by the lake. Ven saw Aqua first, sitting sideways against a bank of the water, her legs kicked over Terra’s lap who had his feet dangling into the lake.

Ven was too far away to even remotely hear what they were talking about but Aqua was chatting away at something, Terra listening attentively. There was just something about the two of them when they were alone that was different. Ven kinda recognized it when he was younger but he could never place what it might be. It was pretty obvious what it was now.

He almost changed his mind and turned back around. There was never anything that wasn’t inviting about them really. He still often had to remind himself to knock first just because he knew them so well. He knew if he walked over there they’d let him join with no second thought, it was more out of his consideration than anything else.

He understood, he did. The castle was big sure but it probably never seemed big enough when you had a bunch of other people always bothering you for something. Neither Aqua nor Terra would probably ever complain so it was up to Ven to make sure no one bothered them whenever he could, himself included.

He moved to turn back around but his name being called out across the lake stopped him. When he turned around Terra still had his hands cupped around his mouth and Aqua was waving her hand over her head to get his attention.

Despite himself, a smile pulled at his lips. It was exactly what he meant but he also couldn’t deny it made him feel good to still always be accepted by his oldest friends. He made his way over to where they were sitting, knowing if he tried to keep walking away now that they saw him one or the other would chase him down till him came back. Usually that involved getting tackled to the ground or getting put in a strong headlock so he decided to save himself the trouble.

“Hey,” Aqua said, leaning slightly back on her hands so she could look up at him. “What’s up, Ven?”

“Wow.” He let out a low whistle. “You must really be happy if you didn’t even ask me if something was wrong first.”

Terra snorted, his hands resting on her legs. “We can see the castle from here if something should explode or such.”

“C’mon, sit down,” Aqua said.

Ven almost tried to back out again, just to be respectful but there was also the part of him that did just wanna spend time with them. He sat himself down next to her, suddenly thankful he couldn’t find shoes as his feet dipped right into the water. It was still kinda cold as spring was still lingering but it was nice enough for now.

“Soon we’ll get to go swimming again,” he said, kicking his feet lightly to get the water to ripple.

Aqua made a noise of slight disgust. “I’m pretty sure something lives in the deeper end of this lake. I’ve never liked swimming in it.”

Terra tapped at her leg. “No, that’s just because I happened to get a leech on my foot one time and you thought it was so gross you never wanted to go back in.”

“Well, can you blame me?”

“C’mon,” Ven said, nudging Aqua’s back with his shoulder. “It’s fine, if you don’t let your feet touch the ground.”

“Or the sides,” Terra added. “You know, where all the plants are growing underwater.”

“Probably the deep end too, I can’t say nothing is living in there.”

“Yeah, okay,” she laughed. “You boys can have fun in a few months then. Take the rest of the kids, try not to let them get eaten.”

“Aqua, have you always been this dramatic?” Ven asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

She opened her mouth to answer but Terra beat her to it.

“Yes.”

Aqua looked like she wasn’t sure which one of them to hit first but it only made Ven laugh. That seemed to be good enough for her.

They settled into silence, but the good kind. The warm weather coming back, the nice breeze blowing off the lake, the sun setting, sitting at the side of the lake with his closest friends it all suddenly made him realize.

It had been almost one year since they came back here.

When they came back to this world it was in shambles, just like their lives were. They all were broken to an extent, recovering from both victory and failures. After those first few nights in the dark, cold, and so empty castle they used to call home, Ven didn’t know if things would ever be able to go back to the way they were.

Really, they didn’t.

As he watched the sun setting over the lake in front of them, the green of the grass under his fingers, the water rippling against his feet, Ventus knew without a doubt things were better now than even before. He could feel the warmth of Aqua’s back against his shoulder, hear the soft hum from Terra as he looked over the lake.

They were all together again. While they were missing one, Ven thought Master Eraqus would’ve liked to see the castle full of kids eager to learn. Sometimes Ven could almost see his master, that knowing smile on his face proud as he watched over Terra and Aqua teach others, watched them smile again and be happy together; then watching over Ven as he took steps closer every day to take his own master’s exam. He could almost hear Eraqus’ rough but always calm voice say, “Well done, little ones, well done.”

Ven closed his eyes, letting the warm breeze blow over his face. It wasn’t perfect. Terra still let his temper get the best of him sometimes, Aqua still didn’t know how to stop bottling her feelings up, and Ven still didn’t know if he was worth all the trouble that went into protecting him. Yet, they were here. They were together, they were home.

But he knew things were changing again.

Ven and Sora were next to take their exams, Lea and Kairi not too far behind. Soon there would be a whole new group of kids ready to train here and Ven would have to decide just what he wanted to do. They always said they’d travel together, see the worlds, and while he knew if asked Terra and Aqua would absolutely go with him but it was different now. Whether Terra or Aqua officially said it or not, they were rooted here now; they were the leaders, the teachers. Ven knew they’d both stay here and they’d both take care of their home and every student who passed through. He could easily see them older than they were now, matching rings on their fingers, their own children playing with the students who’d come to learn under great masters.

Ven blinked open his eyes, the sun almost completely behind the trees now. It was so much like that night so long ago, just on the brink of change for them all. Unlike that night where they thought they knew how it would go, Ven had no idea what a new day would bring but he knew no matter what it was, none of it was bad. Not this time.

“Hey,” he said, though his voice came out a little choked. He didn’t have to look to know both had turned their heads to him. Ven rolled his head onto Aqua’s shoulder, his body leaning into her back. He was nearly taller than her now but there was a special sort of comfort with being so close to her, like he was still a child reaching to the both of them when he was plagued with nightmares. “We’ll always be together, right?”

“Absolutely,” Aqua said, her usual mix of unwavering determination and calming comfort. “We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

Terra didn’t say anything but when Ven closed his eyes again he felt Terra’s arm reach around Aqua, a gentle but strong hand on Ven’s head.

A smile pulled at Ven’s lips. “Yeah, we have.”

An unbreakable connection Aqua had said on that night so long ago and even through deceitful outside forces, sacrifices, and darkness all around they still proved her right in the end. Ven let out a content sigh and Aqua hummed something soft while Terra’s fingers carefully brushed around Ven’s hair but none of them moved.

Even as the sun set in front of them, moon and stars coming up into the night sky Ven never felt cold.

#my fics:kh #terraqua #terra #aqua #birth by sleep #MAN I'll miss writing this one #I really enjoyed doing it #lettheworld #canonversekh

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longeyelashedtragedy · 7 years

Text

it fascinates me to read over my old writing and look at trends and differences. i consider writing to be the easiest form of expression for me, even now, even though as a writer i am definitely above average but certainly not good by any means. i found this fuckin tome of short stories/a play i wrote in 7th and 8th grade and they were hilarious and intelligent and showed confidence with the written word (as a middle schooler i wrote way more humor than angst...tfw the bipolar hasn’t kicked in yet) but were extremely unrefined and undisciplined and a lot of things make me cringe.

as a late teen i stopped writing stories. i wrote a lot of bad poetry and personal stuff but no more. in high school i read a ton of harry potter fanfic but as an early adult i stopped and then had this weird period of thinking fanfic was ~lame~. i have a livejournal entry from june 2009 in which i write “i have an OTP but i’m not writing any fic about it i’m keeping it in my head WHERE IT BELONGS”

i then proceeded to “hold my beer” myself because the next week i started writing fanfic in my class notes. this was the first legit fanfic i wrote as an adult. i only completed 2 fics (i have a handful of WIPs on the subject that i will never finish :/) and one of them, the infamous Modernity Towering in Front of the Sky (what a title!) is sort of near to perfect. i’ve read it over a couple times recently and there’s very little i would change. a few paragraphs of unnecessary detailed backstory, a thing i loved to do back then and have since managed to rid myself of that habit, a few changed words here and there, but honestly like...i remember staying up til 4 am writing all 3,469 words in one go with “Murmullo” by the Buena Vista Social Club on repeat, and being so proud of myself and the artistry that had come out of nowhere. back then i felt weird about writing fic and so convinced myself it had to be Artsy, so i wound up with some goddamn beautiful writing in both the finished pieces and the WIPs.

since then i’ve sort of developed a fanfic style and i can’t write in that way anymore--beautiful, lush language that isn’t too OTT. this was before i ever considered writing fic for an audience (extreme rarepairs will do that to ya) so i feel like i just did whatever i wanted with it. now that i got used to writing for an audience it’s so hard for me to “write for myself,” but back then it was my secret, my indulgence, my resplendent pleasure. i say that i wrote my best fic with my ex in 2012-2013, and that stuff was pretty damn amazing, but in a very different way. i also did some of my best writing in 2009.

as i edit a certain piece for maybe someone reading it (as if anyone would ever want to read a 27 page 1970s argentinean politics magical realism AU that is, as always, a total ripoff of my fav author cortazar’s most creepy short story el apocalipsis de solentiname and carlos fuentes’ famous story chac mool, as well as a ripoff of how a lot of spanish stories sound when translated into english) i am impressed once again. god, that fic story was so imperfect, so much so that i can’t believe i submitted it for my pretentious professor and class, and even now as i make my much more experienced edits (deleting some things that sound beautiful but make no sense, adding a couple things here and there to boost the poor pacing), i see how imperfect it is. the story is plot-heavy and i have never been able to write something where the Plot matters. the pacing is off and will remain off, and the suspense i tried to build, well...it gives me chills even though i wrote it, but who knows if it’s effective for an audience? and yet, it makes me proud that i’m changing so little. these sentences hold up 8 years later, unlike the work i did when i was 13 which i knew was flawed even at the time.

one of my pretentious professor’s biggest criticisms of this long fic story was that “the setting is its own character.” i mean not only is that a legit literary thing (don quixote? the grapes of wrath?), that’s the point of the story. it’s as much about the destruction of a nation as it is about the destruction of its citizens. on my rereads i realize how well i did this and how effectively i ignored him. one of my strengths as a writer was describing physical places (i feel like i lost this) and those descriptions are still effective. in my livejournal, i wrote down a comment he gave me on my writing: that i clearly was trying to say something very specific in all my work but had yet to figure out what that was. i needed to figure out what it was that i was trying to say that was so unique, and then my writing would have more merit.

so. here in 2017 i still think my writing is objectively...no more than “above average.” it’s not great. it is weak and weird. but for myself? do i know what i’m trying to achieve with my work? yes, yes i do, and it applies retroactively. i know in 2017 everything i was trying to achieve long ago.

#originals #fic saga #writing is so important to me #i love talking to others about my writing and theirs #thinking about my own progress #navel gazing about it #etc #posts no one will read

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bedlamsbard · 7 years

Note

Do you have any advice for coming up with a plot when you already have your setting and characters? I'm not writing a fic but I figured fic writers also have heir characters and setting pre-plot and you're an amazing writer so I thought you'd be a good person to ask?

I’m not sure that I’m going to be particularly helpful here, because I haven’t written original fiction in a while and I’m the kind of fic writer who believes that if fanfic can be completely divorced from the canon, then it’s failed as fanfic, so I’m not sure how much of this is transferable, but these are some of the things I think about as a fic writer who writes primarily plotty fic:

To oversimplify greatly, plot is the pithy description: “The one where X happens.” (Ex: The plot of Rogue One is the Rebel Alliance stealing the Death Star plans.)

Also: “The one where X happens because of A, B, and C” – “The plot of Rogue One is the Rebel Alliance stealing the Death Star plans because a Rebel intelligence officer and a group of rogues with various ties to the Empire uncovered the existence of the Death Star and decided to find a way to thwart it.” (Note: This is not the only way to describe the plot of Rogue One.)

Plot is also the progression of events that make up the pithy description: Thing 1 happens, Thing 2 happens, and as a result of these things, Thing 3 happens; meanwhile Thing 4 is happening because it is not at this point affected by Things 1, 2, or 3, but somewhere along the line Thing 72 will not happen unless Thing 4 happens first.

This is the primary way that I plot – I’ll have scenes or images or lines that I write the story to use, and then backtrace to work out what things have to happen for those scenes to occur later on.

Wake the Storm is a good example of this: the two images that I wrote the story for were Anakin crawling through the ventilation shafts on Vader’s star destroyer and Anakin fighting Vader on Mustafar. So I had to go back and figure out what the sequence of events for those things to happen would be. (Wake’s a little unusual in that these are beginning and (near) ending scenes; Gambit and Backbone both have keystone scenes that are closer to the middle of the story as well, but Wake didn’t.)

Sometimes your brain is not consciously aware of these things, and you figure it out further down along the line. Sometimes you’re further down along the line and you go back and reread and go, “huh, if I use X throwaway line, I can do Y main plot point.”

Plot should flow naturally from characters and setting. Most of the fic I write is in a genre that I call a single-point divergence AU: if one thing goes differently in canon, how does that affect everything that comes afterwards? Everything is progressive; actions have consequences both immediate and long-term. Those actions will flow from characters, both from their choices and events that are out of their control. (And what will be out of one character’s control will not be out of another’s.)

This is essentially the same method that alternate history writers use. (I’m a historian, so I think about cause and effect a lot.)

I try to have an action plot (the sequence of events) and an emotional plot (the character arcs). These should be inextricably intertwined and inform each other; the events of one will ultimately not be possible without the other.

Wake has two primary emotional plots: Anakin and OT!Obi-Wan

Backbone has two primary emotional plots: Hera and Cham.

Gambit is a weird case because the action plot and the emotional plot involve separate sets of characters – the action plot is what happens with the Gambitverse characters, and the primary emotional plot is what happens with the Wakeverse characters. Certainly there are secondary emotional plots for the Gambitverse characters and a secondary action plot for the Wakeverse characters (and the primary action plot affects the Wakeverse characters because they’re present in that ‘verse, but it’s not their action plot), but Gambit was partially an exercise in seeing if I could separate the one from the other. I can and did, but the effect was to make the story feel slightly lopsided in a way I’m not entirely happy with (but couldn’t avoid without changing the way I approached the story).

I come up with a lot more plots than I actually use, and about 95% of the time, they flow directly from canon because of the kind of stories I gravitate towards telling. They also tend to be questions that I’m trying to answer.

Some examples:

How would Anakin react to suddenly turning up in the OT era? (Wake the Storm)

What would the repercussions of this be, both in the OT timeline and in the PT timeline?

How would Ben react to Anakin suddenly turning up? Luke? Leia?

What if Queen Amidala was the leader of the Confederacy? (Queen’s Gambit)

What are the events that would lead this to happen?

What are the repercussions of this change, both in the past and present?

How would canon!Padme react to this?

What if Hera and Kanan were Imperials? (On the Edge of the Devil’s Backbone)

What are the events that would lead this to happen? Is there a point in canon I can use for this or do I have to make it all up out of whole cloth?

How this does effect other characters and events in the Rebels timeline? Other characters and events in the saga timeline? (A.k.a. how important are the Ghost crew, anyway? – Remember that Backbone was plotted immediately after S1.)

What if Obi-Wan a Sith lord? (All Along the Watchtower; planned)

What are the events that would lead this to happen?

What are the long- and short-term repercussions of this?

What if Anakin didn’t go dark side and survived Order 66? (What is Lost)

This isn’t a great example because I wrote this literally ten years ago and remember none of my thought process, and would do it differently today.

What if Obi-Wan was a woman? (Oxygen & Rust)

What does this change in the saga?

The way that characters interact with her – how does that change the events of the saga?

Here’s an example from a TCW story that I partially plotted a few years ago, but didn’t end up writing:

In “The Unknown”, Tup reacts to Tiplar and Tiplee as Jedi, but seems unaware of Anakin, suggesting that Anakin may have been specially programmed into the chips not to be an Order 66 victim.

What if more clone chips started malfunctioning and all the Jedi were targeted except Anakin?

The most dramatic way for this to happen would be in a group setting, so that it’s immediately evident to other Jedi that Anakin isn’t being targeted.

That’s going to look suspicious as hell and the other Jedi are probably going to take Anakin into custody.

Let’s have Obi-Wan be injured in this attack and out of the picture, so Anakin feels trapped and alone.

Palpatine is pissed off because this isn’t playing into his plans at all, so he’s revising and improvising on the fly.

If all of the sudden Jedi can’t trust their clones, then that’s going to have massive effects on the war – a.k.a., the Separatists can suddenly make a huge push forward. What if Dooku starts taking the war seriously?

Anakin’s an enterprising sort and after what happened with Ahsoka, he doesn’t have a whole lot of reason to trust the Order in this scenario, so it makes sense that he would escape. (Maybe Palpatine helps to engineer this, because it’s easier for him to have Anakin loose than in prison.)

There ought to be a clone in here, make it Rex, who was aware of what happened with Tup and Fives. He teams up with Anakin.

Rex is going to be wary of having that thing in his head and Anakin needs proof, so they need to find someone to remove it.

How is Padme going to react to all this? Anakin doesn’t want to actively involve her, but he also wants to let her know that he’s all right.

Anakin escaping makes the Jedi Council pretty sure he’s guilty, but after Ahsoka they’re feeling burned, so maybe they proceed with more caution.

At this point Palpatine doesn’t have many options as Supreme Chancellor other than making Anakin look guilty; as Sidious this is an opportunity for him to recruit Anakin.

It would make sense for Anakin to contact Ahsoka to have an ally outside the Order, especially if she’s still on Coruscant.

at this point I stopped plotting this story out. I never had an ending.

(this was originally supposed to be my cool down story after Queen’s Gambit; I wrote Backbone instead)

Here’s a link to some writing meta that I like (and which influenced me a lot when I was younger – you’ll note that this is where I got the terms “action plot” and “emotional plot” from). Her 10 minute AU is essentially the same as my single point divergence AU, but she breaks it down better than I do. (ETA: I want to clarify that I don’t agree with Synecdochic on everything, but I really can’t deny that a lot of this was pretty crucial to my development as a plot writer.)

This isn’t really helpful insofar as coming up with ideas goes, because when it comes to original fic, that’s…what I don’t write and haven’t written for a while, because I’m so used to bouncing directly off canon for ideas. When I do write original fic, I have a tendency to mash stuff together – “classic urban fantasy + ancient Rome,” “traditional high fantasy + modern urban setting,” “prison hulks + space,” “New Orleans-inspired + WWII + magic” – and see what that gets me. If it’s something like a genre – urban fantasy, high fantasy, prison break – then I look at what the common tropes for that genre are and how they function in a different setting. And hope that something shakes loose. (I haven’t done originals in a couple of years, and the last time I was working on one I was co-writing. Which is a whole different thing.)

Hopefully there’s some food for thought here!

#bedlam on writing #space-flannel #bedlam answers

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