âŠâŠ..so thereâs that fic I was speedreading for the last two days haha...
Streetwise looked between all the occupants, getting a read on them. He quite liked his ability for gauging his first impressions of them â it was extremely entertaining figuring out who was all bark and who had the bite to back it up in an easy to read scale that ran from white, through to blue, green, and yellow, before flowing into oranges, reds, purples and black â although heâd only ever seen black once, and that was Optimus Prime. So. To be expected, honestly.
The engineers were pretty standard, the coloured halo around their helms shades of warm yellow and green. The head of Special Operations was purple â as expected. Streetwise looked to Prowl, expecting it to be blue, green at most.
Black.
It was black.
Now..I know all this sounds pretty dark, but trust me, this fic is cute and funny and I love it~
hi :) binge read your de fic that you have posted on ao3 last night and really enjoyed all of it! excited to see any updates. was wondering if you have any rec for other fic youve read and enjoyed-- i am not god's bravest soldier and do not enjoy trudging through tags and was wondering if you had read anything yourself that you really enjoyed lolol
Hey, thanks so much!!! Sorry it's taken a couple days to answer this, I'm poor as shit and have two jobs now wah... capitilism...
I'm working on the next 46' chapter, It's about 70% complete and I generally let it sit for an evening once it's done then re-read it the next day to catch the vast majority of mistakes (I edit everything myself) so I'd say expect that in the coming days.
I have some thoughts! I... Have never been asked for fic recs before so I'm gonna list a bunch in no particular order that I enjoyed, and reasons why. I will note that I tend to enjoy meaty plot-based works over fluff, so that's what I'll be recommending. Anyway!
Paddling Out (THE REPEATER CORPSE CONUNDRUM) - @transhitman
- So this is the first DE fic I read and it set the bar pretty fucking high. YOU'VE GOT: a very cool and insular setting (don't get me wrong I like fics where they travel around Revachol too, but there's something to be said for building a set and living in it for a while) YOU'VE GOT: extremely harrowing tension and pale-fuckery YOU'VE GOT: some genuinely beautiful, heartfelt moments (I don't want to spoil anything but "people don't need your permission to care about you" kinda undid me) YOU'VE ALSO GOT: Amazing art?! Always a bonus, I wish I could draw people lol
Have You Heard The News That You're Dead? - Wizardlover
- Time Loop shenanigans hell yeah! Basic premise: Kim is *unable* to save Harry's life after he's shot at the tribunal, each time he dies he Reawakens in Martinaise on the first day and desperately has to try and find a way to either prevent the Tribunal entirely, or survive it. I think the major draw to this one is how well it's characterised and how well that lends to the major source of tension: trying to convince THE WORLD'S BIGGEST SKEPTIC that you *a man he 'has only just met'* is actually stuck in a time loop. Juicy shit.
The Case Of The Man Who Two-Thirds Wasn't There - @glisteningceruleaneyes
- We got another case fic here, gang. This is one of those "they travel around Revachol" numbers I previously mentioned. A lot to love about this fic; the minor OCs are all loveable (or at least well-written, looking at you Mr. Bigot-All-Rounder), the elements of writing in the game's style (particularly use of Harry's 'to do' list that you find in the ledger, you don't see that as often!) are all fantastic. Also without spoiling too much I'm a sucker for hurt/ comfort :) I like when bad things happen to our specialist guy :) ALSO! alternating chapters, Kim vs Harry's perspectives contrast REALLY well! Just a super enjoyable read.
- On that note I also wanna include a special mention: there's a podfic for this one and since I mentioned my two jobs, I've been listening to audiobooks at work (I'm a cleaner. It's very boring) and that was a fun change of pace!
The Emergent Causeway - hal_incandenza
- Now you KNOW this one is good because it's the only *unfinished* fic I'm recommending. Again, We've got art! We've got a brand new (non-Revachol!) setting that still feels excellently Elysium! We got that excellent balance of humour and misery from the get go! EXCELLENT murder mystery so far, I am intrigued AND also there's a fucking puppy. Hell yeah. This one's from Kim's perspective and does a really good job of it, nothing like a man being begrudgingly sent on holiday and being somewhat relieved to have a corpse to deal with.
A Spilled Kaleidoscope - @spilledkaleidoscope
- I'm actually recommending a series here. Real definition of "came for the art, stayed for the writing" I mostly have a soft spot because I got to watch a few "haha, what if-?" musing text posts become a series of written chapters and INCREDIBLE DRAWINGS HOLY SHIT. Like, you really just draw hands for fun, huh? This person made a pact with some sort of devil beasts to draw hands very good, at the bare minimum we can read their fiction.
Nothing To Lose But Our Chains - Lepak
- I almost forgot this one and I honestly can't believe it because this is one of these ones that you need a cigarette afterwards. Good fucking god. This is probably the best fic I've ever read in terms of not shying away from the heavy themes that make Disco Elysium such a beautiful, moving game. It tackles a racism in many forms, particularly how people like Kim (in working for the RCM) and immigration laws do their part in upholding racist systems, despite the way it hurts him too. Of course, it's also excellently written with tense scenes and some real funny moments. A real good'un here.
The Catacomb Killer - SupposedToBeWriting
- Give Harry more memory loss. Make him convinced he killed a kid. Make *Kim* convinced he killed a kid... Then the plot thickens. I won't lie I can't remember fuck all about this one because I was mostly drunk when I read it, but if it was good enough that I kept reading instead of smoking a spliff or something then it must have been excellent... I will re-read it when I have the time, lmao.
MURDER ON THE AIRWAVES - @randomisedmongoose
- I'm just a really big fan of murder mysteries and gore. You show me somebody with brain matter pouring from their earholes and I'm like "yum yum, more of that please." I am a sucker for curious methods of murder and this one's good for that. Lots of trekking back and forth like in the game again. More ACAB - always good.
I did not mean to include this many...........................
Oh well. Here's my list, there are plenty of others I've enjoyed but these are just the ones that came to mind! Thanks again for reading my fic! Always makes me happy when people let me know they enjoy my writing :3
#3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?
I hate to be a cliche of myself again, but Five Peggats Each. (And this includes all things I've ever written in my life actually :D). There's a few reasons for it, I think. One, it's like HUGELY within my comfort zone. The limited setting, the noncon, the tropes of the characters themselves. This is the type of story I have the most practice with, so it naturally comes easier and in better quality I think? Two, how, despite it being a comfort zone, I've used this fic as kind of a sandbox to experiment a lot of different writing techniques. For example, this is the most POVs I've ever written in a single fandom, let alone a single story (which usually stays around 1-2). For other examples, like, I've tried to be really mindful about metaphors/prose and how they can twist reality (like that time I spent like 8 hours researching in-universe Star Wars bands & instruments just so I could write one paragraph lmao)... or even how I recently tried to use second person POV to give the reader the same disassociation/discomfort/dysphoria that Anakin was feeling after regaining use of the Force. These experiments were all really hard to pull off, and I'm proud of myself for attempting them. And three, how I've allowed 5PE to be a project that can take as long as I want it to take to finish, so long as I do finish it. So on one hand, it's been a really good exercise in self-discipline & practice in maintaining my passion for the story, despite the constant barrage of shiny new plot bunnies. And on the other hand, the lack of a time pressure allows me to really spend time on the quality of every single line (excepting human mistakes & typos of course lmfao), while also not letting that perfectionism stand in the way of progress. It's really helped me become more confident in storycrafting from beginning to end, in a way I've never really felt in my old fandom or writing. On top of all that, it's the only fic that I can actually read after posting updates without feeling like it's exfoliating my entire body to do so lol. I actually enjoy reading it sometimes. So that's nice.
#18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?
Answered here. :)
#29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year
Really hard one omg. If I have to choose something I've already posted on ao3, then it'd probably be one of these three: (1) in Five Peggats Each, the passage I also described above regarding Anakin's fever as it relates to the jizz band & cantina in chapter 6; the passage I put in the fic summary for Every Shadow, but the full version of it as written in chapter 2, not the abridged version in the summary; and (3) the opening paragraph of What Dead Things See.
But but but imo -trembles with excitement (I've been dying to show this, folks, what a good opportunity)- none of those passages even hold a candle to this thing that poured out of my brain one sleepless night at 2am for some unposted/unfinished oneshot:
For a moment, when he was nine years old, Anakin thought himself to be a whore.
In an effort to scrub the slave out of him, the temple healers had pumped him full of vaccines and medications and water and food. He'd been lying on a brand new bed in a brand new room and counting the speeders whose lights flashed across the wall. That's when the memory burned.
If they want you for your strength, his anma said, then they won't squander a second of it. Your back will ache and your feet will throb before the very first sunset. But Anakin's back wasn't aching and his feet didnât throb.
If they want you for your mind, they'll test your skills and put you to work, and they'd tested him, yes, but not his ability to steer the yoke of a podracer at the drop of a pin, nor his ability to disassemble and reassemble any gadget known to sentient life. They'd only studied the gaps in his knowledge and he'd had none of the answers and he'd seen the pity in their gazes.
And if they feed you, said his anma, if they let you rest in a bed and say they'll take care of you, then the first chance you get, you must run. As fast as you can, as hard as you can, even if they activate your bomb. Because some fates, my love, are worse than death. You must always be wise enough to know that.Â
And Anakin, well fed and well rested, hadn't wanted to run fast or run hard or detonate his bomb. Anakin hadn't wanted to escape this new place that sang of plenty and of love and of home. So he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled through the darkened shared quarters until he found his new master's bed. Clammy, feverish, and half-asleep, Anakin crawled under the covers and felt around for his master's trousers.
Obi-Wan awoke in an instant.Â
That night, they found no rest at allârather, hours of conversation while Anakin shivered on the couch huddled in afghans and quilts and comforters and tried to explain that, yes, he knew he was free and he knew he was safe and he knew all he had to say was a word and he'd be taken wherever else he wanted by whomever else he wanted and that, no, Obi-Wan had never said or done anything to suggest such a thing was wanted and that if he ever did going forward, Anakin would tell him straight away, and that, yes, he understood the difference between a master and a Master and that, no, he didn't need to use a different wordâbecause Obi-Wan didn't yet know that there are some things you learn with your mind but other things you learn with your body, and that there's no actual function in the branding of a slave because the brand is already burnt into a slave's mind, as crisply and as permanently, as a molten pattern pressed to flesh.
As he kneels before his Master, Anakin decides that Palpatine would have liked the gift of a nine-year-old groping beneath the bed sheets better.
It would have saved them all a lot of time.
I will finish this one day... Have about 3 scenes written, and just need to write 1.5 scenes more. But the above part stands pretty well on its own so hopefully you all enjoyed! ^_^
1.Whatâs something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again?
I wrote erotica involving a trans character for the first time in A Proper Apology! (Well, technically he's not actually human and wasn't really assigned any gender at birth, but you know, basically I wrote him like he's trans.) As someone who's still in the process of figuring out a transmasculine identity myself, I often prefer to read and write fics where the characters are all cisgender because it's like, I'm here to have fun, I don't even want to deal with thinking about all that complicated stuff that affects my real life right now. But I'm happy to have given something different a try with this fic, and I hope it's something I'll be able to do more in the future as I get more confident in who I am. Shout-out to @glitterarygetsit for beta-reading that one and helping polish it!
2. How many fics did you work on this year? (They donât have to be finished or published!)
Apparently I've published 16 (most of which are pretty short), and I also have my Yuletide fic about to be revealed and bring it up to 17! Then in my unfinished drafts I have at least 5 more, all of which are for Our Flag Means Death. The new season gave me so many ideas that I didn't finish all of them, but maybe I'll revisit some in the new year!
10. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?
Probably my magnum opus, Tonight on Ring of Revenge! It's my longest fanfic and probably in my top 5 longest works of fiction I've completed in general, and it was really fun and satisfying to be able to gradually make a wild idea I had while watching wrestling work out. I'm really proud of it and it feels very unique to me - like plenty of other people are also great at writing the kind of horny one-shots I do a lot of, but no one else made the pirate wrestling AU, that's a Jaime Special
15. Rec a fic you wrote or posted in 2023
I'll do the same one I just answered - Tonight on Ring of Revenge! It loosely follows the overall plot of season 1 of OFMD but set in the modern era with the characters as pro wrestlers instead of pirates. Is that an extremely silly idea? Yes! Does it also actually suit the themes and characterization of the show really well? You bet! Are there ridiculous campy wrestling plots and choreographed fake violence and also sex? Hell yeah! I had a lot of fun doing research for it and I think there are plenty of details in there that wrestling fans will appreciate, but I also added plenty of author's notes explaining things for readers who are less familiar with wrestling. It's about 26k words and has a cute happy ending! Enjoy!
19. Share your favorite opening line
I think I have to go with this one from When You Like And Where You Like!
"We have three years of the past to discuss. Let that suffice until half-past nine, when we start upon the notable adventure of the empty house."
As Sherlock Holmes leaned casually against the desk in my study, a self-satisfied smile on his pale and aquiline face, I was seized with a momentary urge to leap from my chair and throttle him.
The first line of dialogue is directly out of "The Adventure of the Empty House," and if I remember correctly, it precedes a bit of a timeskip to the story picking up later that night. The second line is me starting a little missing scene! I really enjoy writing stuff like this that follows canon closely and could arguably have happened in between without necessarily contradicting anything, and I think it's a solid opening in terms of how much it establishes in those first two sentences: if you've read this story you'll probably recognize that line and know immediately at what point in canon this is set, and you'll understand why Watson is angry and why this is something that deserves a missing scene to get into his reaction to what's going on more!
Weâre in the final furlong before the deadline for the first draft now, so it feels like a good time to talk about endings, and how to bring your story together to create a satisfactory one.
Have a read and then head over to the Discord Server where we have a channel for you to take part in a discussion based on the post, with chances to share your own ideas too.
How To End Your Story
There are traditionally six types of endings for a story:
Resolved ending - one with no lingering questions or loose ends. (Most murder mysteries and romances fall into this category.)
Unresolved ending - the kind of ending that leaves the reader with more questions than answers. (Usually for books that are part of a series. A lot of the HP books have endings like this.)
Expanded ending - expands the world of the story beyond the events of the narrative itself, with a time jump forward or a change in PoV.
Unexpected ending - a twist ending that the reader doesnât see coming, but that should seem inevitable in hindsight.
Ambiguous ending - one thatâs open to interpretation. Unlike an unresolved one, it leaves things to be interpreted by the reader so they have to decide themselves how it goes.
Tied ending - that brings the story full circle, and ends exactly where it began. Often the case for âHeroâs Journeyâ type stories, where the hero ends up back home at the end.
You can read more about them here: https://boords.com/storytelling/how-to-end-a-story or here: https://www.masterclass.com/articles/ways-to-end-your-story but also in multiple other articles online just by Googling âSix Ways To End A Storyâ.Â
But, of course, they donât really tell you how to work out which one your story needs, or how to write one of them without falling into any of the traps that ends with an unsatisfying ending.
Motivation
Of course, often the hardest bit with an ending is actually getting there. Losing motivation is so easy, especially when youâre writing something super-long. I know lots of people get motivation by posting as they go and using comments/kudos as a spur, or even just by talking about it on Tumblr or other places and letting other peopleâs excitement buoy them up, but a Bang event like WHOB doesnât allow for that.Â
Iâm going to talk a bit about ways to motivate yourself when youâre having to keep things secret from all but a handful of people, but bear in mind that this is something that really is very individual. Everyone writes for different reasons, and so everyoneâs path to staying motivated is different.
For me, I think it comes down to focusing on why am I writing this story to start with? Any time I feel myself flagging, I think back to that reason and re-capture the original feeling I had about it. Often thereâs a couple of different reasons.Â
For example, when I was writing Look What The Cat Dragged In, my motivations when I wrote the first line were:
I want all of fandom to share with me the image of the Winter Soldier waking Clint up to threaten him while gently cradling a kitten in his hands, andÂ
I was writing it as a present for @kangofu-cbâ.Â
So, if I flagged at all, I was able to either reread that moment with Bucky holding the kitten and think âwow, I really do thing people will enjoy this mental imageâ, or I was able to think âI want my friend to have a nice thingâ, and that helped me drive on and push through.
A lot of my personal motivations come down to âI want to share this scene/witty one-liner/visual of Clint pole dancing while dressed as Captain America with peopleâ, so often just rereading what Iâve already done is really motivating for me, plus it also gives me the chance to see just how much Iâve already done, and what I would be dooming to be unfinished if I just walked away without pushing through.
You might well have different motivations though, which are equally valid. Maybe you started a fic for this event because you wanted to get a shiny badge, or to do something that your friends were doing, or you wanted to prove to yourself that you could write something longer than usual or outside of your usual wheelhouse. It may feel harder now than it did when you had that first idea, but that doesnât change why you wanted to do it, and itâs actually easier now than it was when you started, because youâve already done some of it.
And, if none of those motivations work for you, thereâs always spite. âOh, my brain gremlins think I canât finish this? Fuck those guys, Iâm going to prove those assholes so very, very wrongâ is completely how I powered through to finish my first ever novel-length fic, a million years and several fandoms ago.Â
Resolution vs Ending
So, letâs move on to the ending itself.Â
There are two parts to writing an ending: thereâs the plot resolution and how that all gets tied up, and thereâs the actual ending of the fic - the last scene, and the last place the reader sees the characters.
Sometimes the resolution happens only at the very end of a story and so those are the same thing, but I tend to think that makes things feel a bit abrupt. Especially for fics, which tend to be more character-driven than mainstream media and so need a wind down on how the characters react to the end of the plot for the reader. (This isnât always true, of course, some plots do tie up neatly in the final scene. Every story is different and youâre the person best placed to judge whatâs needed in your fic.)
So when youâre thinking about the ending, think about both parts. âHow does this plot resolve itself?â and âwhere do I want to leave these characters in the readersâ mindâs eye?â
Plotting a Story Resolution
You may well have already got a resolution worked out as part of your planning, but what if that ending doesnât seem to fit any more, or you realise just as you get to it that you forgot to think about an ending at all and have no idea where to go?
First of all, donât panic! If the rest of the story is there, youâll be able to pull together the strands to create the best ending. Trust the bones of your story.
When Iâm facing a blank page and no real idea of how Iâm getting from the Depths of Despair moment to the happy ending, the first thing I do is reread the whole story in case that sparks a fantastic, fully-formed idea to appear on how to tie it all up. Mostly that doesnât work, which is always disappointing, but itâs still a good place to start, because you have the whole run of the fic fresh in your head to plan from.
The next thing I do is make a list of all the things that I know definitely need to happen for the plot to be done. These donât need to be in any particular order at this point and they donât need to link up, you just need a list of what needs to go into the framework, however minor. âClint wears Buckyâs hoodie and Bucky is smittenâ is a totally valid plot point to include, or even âinclude mention of recurring joke about muffinsâ. If you know something needs to be resolved but you donât know how yet, just putting âresolve plot point with badgersâ is fine. Hopefully once youâve started thinking through all the different bits, youâll work out whatâs going to happen to the badgers, and itâll make sure you know it needs to be included somewhere.
If you have a beta/cheer reader who can help, itâs also super helpful to ask them what they would expect from the ending based on what theyâve read so far, or what elements from earlier in the story they think will be coming back/will turn out to be foreshadowing. Sometimes youâll find youâve written the clues to your ending into the earlier bits without really noticing, and you can throw them down on the list to be included as well.
Once you have everything you know needs to be included, you can shift them around into a rough order you think they need to go in, and start filling in the gaps. For example, if âClint gets injuredâ is there, you can add in âBucky tends to his woundsâ as the obvious next step and maybe that would be a good time to throw in a muffin joke, and then Clint might need to borrow a hoodie if his shirt has blood on it, so you can tick those bits off as well.
It gets easier to see where the gaps are once you have it written out, even if itâs only things that you already knew would need to happen. Having it down in black and white helps your brain to move pieces around like a jigsaw puzzle, and start extrapolating on what comes in the gaps between.
Make The Ending Fit The Story
Think about what kind of story itâs been so far, and make sure that the ending you come up with fits in with it.Â
Youâll know the general feeling that you wanted for the fic when you started writing, so that will give you a solid idea on how the ending needs to go. (Often for me this feeling is âschmoopy and loved upâ, because Iâm a softie. A lot of what Iâm doing when Iâm writing a fic is just clearing out of the way any obstacles that are going to get in the way of my characters being schmoopy and loved up. When thereâs nothing left in the way, thatâs when I know itâs the end of the story.)
You also need to keep the tone and pacing of your fic the same, and make sure that your ending matches up so it all feels like it fits together. This includes keeping the pace the same as it had been, no matter how tempting it is to rush through so you can get the thing finished already, or slow right down so you can add in a few thousand more words.Â
Along with sticking to the tone youâve set for the fic, try not to genre-shift - if youâve written an action-packed zombie apocalypse fic, resolving the plot with domestic schmoop isnât a great idea. The reader is invested in the style of story that youâve written so far, so pulling the rug out on them will only give them whiplash, a vague sense of dissatisfaction or a persistent nagging feeling that zombies are about to attack.Â
Unless youâve written a domestic schmoop zombie AU of course, in which case I would read the hell out of it. âCurtain!fic but sometimes the undead interruptâ sounds like a lot of fun.
And finally, make sure you maintain your characterisation. If the ending you want involves your character doing something wildly out-of-character, then thatâs not the right ending. (I like to call this an Endgame!Steve ending. No, Iâm not over that.) Even if your audience is invested in your story enough to overlook the incongruence, they will be having to overlook it rather than feeling fully invested in the journey youâve created.
Chekovâs Gun
The most satisfying endings are the ones that tie up most, if not all, of the loose ends, and provide an emotional pay-off equivalent to the build-up. If youâve been talking about something big that might or might not happen, and then it doesnât, itâs narratively frustrating. In the same way, if you drop something big in that doesnât really fit with what went before, itâs going to make the story feel unbalanced.Â
Obviously that doesnât mean you canât have a surprise or twist ending but even if the reader is surprised by something happening, they still want to feel like theyâre reading the same story. They need to look back with hindsight of knowing the twist and see how it fits in, and not how it stands out.
A good rule to follow is the Chekovâs Gun rule: If thereâs a gun on the table in the first act, someone needs to shoot it in the second act. If youâve been teasing something, make sure the pay-off is there.
And, of course, if someoneâs going to be firing a gun at the end, go back and make sure it gets mentioned earlier in the story. It doesnât need to be a heavy-handed anvil, but if you can drop in casual hints about guns earlier in the story, the whole thing feels more cohesive and thought out. No one needs to know that you only put those hints in after youâd finished the whole thing.
Loose Ends
Something I always like to do when Iâm plotting exactly how the ending is going to go, is to go back through the whole fic and make a list of anything that feels like it could be a loose end if it didnât get resolved. (If Iâm having a problem working out my ending, often this happens at the same time as writing down all my ending plot points, as I described above.)
Some of those are obvious, like âBucky and Clint need to kissâ, but some are less so. Did Clint think about how much he just wants to be done with all the drama so he can snuggle with his dog? Maybe throw in some Lucky cuddles somewhere in the finale so he gets the emotional pay-off. Has Bucky mentioned really want to punch a bad guy in particular in the face? Give him a chance to smack that asshole around a bit. Has there been a minor relationship drama along the way, like someone leaving their socks lying around? Have them either make a point of putting them away, or the other person just rolling their eyes and accepting it as a part of being with them.
Itâs also important to think about where your secondary characters are going to end up, and if it feels like theyâve had an arc that needs resolving. Has there been another pairing with a bit of screen time or some background drama? Give them a chance to make out/make up. Has the bad guy done something that affected one of the other Avengers? Let them have a slice of revenge along the way.
For example, in my plan for Be All You Can Be, one of the original characters I introduced as other soldiers doing Basic Training, Havelka, didnât turn up again after heâd been kicked back a level to another training unit. When I reread that, it became clear that he needed to prove himself somehow or his arc would be a depressing downward slope partially instigated by Clint and Bucky, so I brought him back at the end to do some First Aid and gave him a line or two to point to how his future was going to go, so the reader knew he was going to be okay.
You donât have to completely resolve everything of course, and sometimes it is nice to leave a couple of things up to the readerâs imagination, but itâs nice for the reader if thereâs a sense of things being tied up in a little bow.Â
Ending
So, youâve resolved your plot, how are you going to handle the actual final ending?Â
Depending on how your story has gone, you might not need much after the resolution, or you may need several epilogue-y type scenes just to make sure everything is wrapped up.
Take a moment to think about what feeling you want the reader to take away from the fic. If itâs a romance, do you want to end with a warm fuzz of âaw cuteâ? If itâs been an angsty dig down into Clint or Buckyâs mental health issues, do you want a sense of optimism or catharsis? If thereâs been a lot of action and drama, do you want a bit of peace and quiet for your characters to signal itâs all over with?
The best way to end any story is with a sense of hope, even if youâve not gone for a completely happy ending, or have left yourself open for a sequel with some unresolved plot points. You want the reader to feel at least in some way uplifted. After all, regardless of whatever else has gone before, thatâs the emotion theyâll have when they get faced with the Kudos button and the Comment box, so you need them in a good mood, right?
When you know what kind of feeling you want your ending to have, that will give you a major clue as to what the characters should be doing in the final scene.
One thing that can work well is bringing back something from the first scene or two and twisting it to be part of the ending. For example, at the beginning of Be All You Can Be Clint uses the song Make A Man Out Of You from Mulan as a way to torture Bucky, and then at the end, they watch the movie together while snuggling.
You do have to be careful not to be too heavy handed with that, and it doesnât work in every fic, but I do like the feeling of âthings coming full circleâ that you can get from doing it.
Afterglow vs. Too Much Ending
I always think that good stories come with a certain amount of âafterglowâ: Just a scene or two to round things out and give a pointer towards the future.Â
For example, in general, I donât like stories that end with a first kiss, which is one of several reasons I usually find Hollywood romcoms unsatisfying. It feels like too much of a beginning, and leaves too many questions open about how things are actually going to go for the couple in question. As part of a complete ending, it feels more satisfying to have an âepilogueâ-y type scene afterwards that will give you a sense of how things went from there, even if itâs just a couple of paragraphs about them planning their first date.
Iâm sure we can all think of other times weâve read or watched something and had a moment of âoh, was that it?â after the last sentence/when the credits rolled. Abrupt endings without a bit of afterglow can leave the reader blinking a little and wondering where their damn cuddles are.
That said, you also donât want to go too far in the opposite direction. If the plot is over, thereâs no need to keep going with multiple scenes of fluff or porn that doesnât really add anything. We donât need to see their whole lives mapped out, and it can get fairly dull once the tension of the plot is over. Ask yourself if the three chapters of them having sex on every flat surface in their apartment is actually necessary, or if some of them can be cut and used as one-shot sequel/missing scene fics.Â
In general if itâs not adding to either the narrative or emotional arcs, try to cap it at a scene or two. Just enough to feel like youâve had a bit of post-climactic afterglow, but not so much that itâs starting to drag.
In ConclusionâŠ
Ending a fic is, in so many ways, the most satisfying part of writing. You got right the way through your plot to the end! You did all the writing! Your characters made it through to their happy/sad/ambiguous endings! You deserve all the gold stars!
You just want your reader to feel the same way, by making sure the ending fits with what came before, ties up all the ends that need tying up, and leaves them with a deep glow of whatever feeling you want the overall story to convey.
And then you just need to do the editing, but thatâs a workshop for another day...
Things I have learned in my 20+ years of writing fanfic
Iâd been thinking about this for a while and figured Iâd compile a list, in case other people find it helpful. Keep in mind that what I say here is only my own experiences and tastes and Iâve no intentions of telling you how to write your own stories. So uhhh... letâs go!
1) Different stories require different planning methods. When I was younger, I used to think that I had to use the exact same method for planning each of my stories. Strict outlines on everything! Except... that's not how writing works. Stories are like wild beasts--you can try to tame them, certainly, but as each one is an individual, it may require different methods. Or you may discover that the stories that come to you are ones you can all write in the same way!
But for me personally, I find it best to plan out stories in different ways depending on which one seems to work at the time. One story may require a strict outline, while another may need a very loose roadmap. Other times I can fly from the seat of my pants and finish a story that way, or even use things readers have brought up to help me figure out parts of my story. The point is, don't try to confine yourself to one method of planning. Do what suits your story.
2) When working on a longfic, look for ways to include other characters. This one doesn't apply to every fandom or fic situation (for example, if there's only two main characters in your fandom, or if your characters have a very very very good reason to be isolated), but it's honestly a little bit of a pet peeve of mine when it comes to other stories, though I was guilty of it too when I was younger. I remember writing fics in fandoms where you'd have a large group of characters, but... the fic would only focus on two or three of them. They seemed to exist in a bubble, where no one else outside of that bubble really reacted to what was going on, even if there was no reason why they SHOULDN'T react to this.
For example, say you're working on a longfic for a fandom where there's a group of 5-10 characters (maybe a family, a neighborhood, a team, whatever). In this fic, character A nearly dies, leaving character B devastated at their terrible state and doing everything in their power to take care of A. And then... the rest of the characters don't really do anything, or just avoid the situation for no apparent reason. Once again, it feels like the whole story is taking place in a bubble. I totally get that sometimes you want to just focus on A and B's relationship, but consider how you approach this sort of thing for a longfic. Why not look for ways to include the others?
I'm not saying that means the entire story has to focus on all of those characters if your main intention is to focus on the relationship between A and B. But look for ways to include the others in the group/team/family/neighborhood/town/whatever--show how they're reacting to the situation or what they're actively doing to help or hinder it. Even if you only show one or two scenes per character, it burst the "bubble" effect of your longfic and makes the story richer and the world fuller. Heck, you may even find that you actually enjoy writing those other characters more than you initially thought. Give it a try!
3) In longfics, have specific details in your story that you can potentially bring back later. I'm not entirely sure how to explain this one, but... give your story specific details. Stuff like characters briefly talking about an event from the past, or a character having an item in their possession, or a character happening to know another, or just... anything. Obviously don't fill your stories with unnecessary detail, but sprinkle interesting, specific things in there every so often. You don't have to linger on them or hang a bright flashing arrow next to them to tell the reader "LOOK AT THIS!!!"Â In fact, you don't even have to come back to them later.
So... why am I telling you to do this?
Because sometimes those specific details will surprise you.
Sometimes you'll be writing part of your story, and then get stuck, and go back and reread something... and then you'll run across one of those details, and it will be the answer to your problem. Sometimes readers will pick up on those details, and voice their own thoughts on them, which might give you an idea for a plot point to bring up later. Sometimes those details wind up being the link between two plot points that you couldn't figure out how to tie together.
Even if they don't wind up doing any of those things, they can just be something to add more life to your story, and make it more memorable for your readers.
4) If your source material has voice acting, keep videos/sound files featuring characters' voices handy. Something I've found that helps me get into a character's head and voice is to just listen to them. In video game fandoms, you're likely to find videos that consist of a character's entire library of voice lines. For show/movie/podcast fandoms, you can of course find videos or sound files in which the characters are talking. If I'm about to write a character for the first time, I'll listen to them talk for a while before I start writing them. Other times, if I'm not certain a line of dialogue sounds like something the character would say, I'll listen to some of their canon dialogue for a bit in order to "refresh" their voice in my head, and see if I can clearly hear them saying the line I wrote.
Sometimes if I'm writing quickly and don't want to stop to listen to their lines, I'll add in a phrase they usually say to the dialogue I'm currently writing--that way I can immediately hear the way they say it in my head, and that will carry to the rest of the dialogue.Â
In general, it's just a useful thing for making sure you're getting a character's voice right. (Plus, listening to the dialogue is fun just by itself!)
5) Before posting a longfic, make ABSOLUTELY sure you want to finish it. So, I've written... a lot of longfics. And as a kid, I had a problem where I would get this FANTASTIC IDEA for a longfic, and I would immediately start writing, and immediately start posting, because feedback! Excitement! Gratification! ... and then a few days later I would lose interest and move on to something else. Oops.
When I was in my late teens/early twenties, I decided that sort of behavior wouldn't do, so for a while I would not start posting fics until the entire rough draft of them was complete, and then I would post one chapter a week. And while that worked for a while, it, uh... could only last for so long, because my stories kept getting longer and longer and man you can only go so long writing on your own without really, really wanting some of that sweet sweet feedback.
So... I figured out a compromise.
I would start my longfics. Maybe write out the first few chapters, or write out the notes, however I decided to do it. For some, I would determine that the longfic would be "short" enough that I could finish it before any excitement I had for it burned out. For all the others, I would continue to write them without posting for a while, seeing how long they kept my interest, and maybe show them to some friends. If I started to get really invested in it, then I would (attempt to) create a buffer of chapters, and start posting on a schedule. That schedule... did not always last, but by that point I was usually able to determine that yes, I absolutely did want to see this fic through to the end. Otherwise, the WIP would stay unfinished and unposted until the end of time.
Naturally most of my finished longfics are the epitome of self-indulgence, but hey, that's what fic is for, isn't it?
Speaking of...
6) Always remember that writing fic is FOR FUN. My previous point there? Completely disregard it if you are not having fun writing a story anymore. I've had fic series I started out with full plans to complete them, but after a few years, I lost steam, moved onto different fandoms, and really could not go back. But... that's okay. This is for fun. If I'm not having fun anymore, why should I push myself to keep writing?
Not to say that you should quit writing at the first sign of trouble! Wracking your mind trying to figure out the next part of the story isn't the same thing as losing all enjoyment writing it (unless it is). Usually once you figure out what to write next, you feel that much happier, and can keep going.
Regardless, never lose sight of what you're doing. Writing fanfiction is a hobby, and hobbies should be fun. If you're not having fun, move onto something else. Your readers may whine, but they'll get over it. Sometimes even the feedback isn't enough to keep you going, and that's okay. This is not your job (unless you're actually getting paid for it). This is a hobby. Write what you enjoy.
Well... that's all I've got for now. I may add more stuff to this list later as I remember other things. But there you have it!Â
Again, you absolutely don't have to take any of my advice if you don't want to. There's no single right way to write a fanfic! Do what works for you. If you find this stuff helpful, I'm glad. If not, that's okay! Either way, good luck with wherever your pen or keyboard leads you, and have fun writing!
warnings: first person POV, the reader is mentioned to be an artist and bisexual but it is not important to the plot. Other than that its just a fluffy day at the beach. đ
A/n: at last, I finally wrote a fic. It is extremely self-indulgent and was inspired by some anons that @safari-karrot got that I definitely did NOT send ;). I also want to thank Kate for being my beta! I worked pretty hard on it and im proud of it. Hope you enjoy!
-----------
Walking into the elevator of my apartment complex, I was able to let my shoulders relax and my guard down for the first time all day. The day at the studio was intense today, and for all the wrong reasons. No matter how much I tried, I wasnât able to create anything, as if all of the motivation and drive to do my work had burned out. I was burnt out. I was lucky enough to score an apartment next door to a pair of twins, Jake and Josh, who quickly became good friends. And even more fortunate, they had come back home this week from recording with their band, which meant I could spend my afternoon with them instead of alone in my own apartment.Â
I entered my house and set my bags and work down on the dining table. It was impossible to make out where the table was under pile of unfinished sketches and work plans, but that was a tomorrow problem. I put on the kettle to make some tea and shot Jake a text asking if I could come over.Â
Â
Jake... in the last couple of years that i have known the twins, the have become an indispensable part of my life. We take turns cooking for the three of us and hosting movie nights, an even go do laundry together. Having them away for so long felt like a hole had been carved out of my soul, and it also made my harboring crush on Jake ache deeper and deeper. He was unlike anyone I had ever met, we understood each other in a way I never thought I would have with anyone, yet he was still an enigma. He was insanely talented and driven, and he was smart. And kind. And funny. And extremely easy on the eyes. I would never tell him this though, his friendship is all I can get, and Iâll learn to live with that.Â
His text came back telling me that his door was open. I finished and drank my tea, washed my face, changed into more comfortable clothes, and made my way next door.Â
When I came into the twinsâs apartment Jake was sitting on the sofa playing his guitar, a small notebook sat on his lap. At my entrance, he sent a smile my way, but continued playing.Â
âWhere is Josh?âÂ
âHeâs out filming. Why, did you need him?âÂ
âNo, just wonderinâ.âÂ
âYou know, if you just want to hang out with me to try to get into my brotherâs pants, you could have just told me. And I want no part of it. Here I was thinking we were best friends.â He teased and wiped fake tears from his eyes, but his smile said that he was just messing. That did not, however, stop my nerves. Best friend.
âI do not want to get into your brotherâs pants, Jake. They wouldnât fit me.â I took of my boots and plopped on the couch next to him. âIâm your best friend?! What about Josh, Danny and Sam?â
âThatâs different, theyâre my brothers.â
âHm... I guess youâre a fine friend too, one could even say the best one Iâve had.â Friend.Â
âAnd the best one youâll ever have.â He set his guitar down to his other side, âhow was the studio today? Any new paintings?âÂ
I let out an exasperated sigh âI wish. I am incredible burned out, I can barely even pick up a pencil! I have gotten close to nothing done all week and Rachel keeps asking me out, I donât know what to do anymore.â
âRachel? What did you say?â If I didnât know better I wouldâve thought I saw pain flash across his face.
âI told her no, but that is besides the point. Iâm just so out of it...âÂ
âYou do look like you need some adventure.â
âYou could say thatâÂ
âYou know what?â He got up from the couch and pulled me to stand with him. âIâll give it to you. Go get dressed, Iâll get everything ready.âÂ
Â
âWhat? Where are we going?â
âIf i tell you it wont be a surprise. Now go to your house and get ready.âÂ
âThen what do I wear?â
He seemed to think about it for a while, then said âsomething comfortable, but tropical.âÂ
âJake, that tells me absolutely nothingââ
âYouâll figure it out. Now leave, and donât come back unless youâre on party business.â It was futile to keep going so I just stuck my tongue back at him and walked out of the door and into my apartment.Â
I settled on wearing a short blue sundress, boots, and a pair of sunglasses. I walked back into his apartment to find Jake in the shortest shorts i have even seen him wear, an unbuttoned white shirt, and his signature combination of necklaces and a bucket hat. âAre those Samâs?âÂ
âNo, I own shorts too.â He put down two boxes on the coffee table and looked me over once. âThat is exactly what I meant! Now carry this to the car.â He handed me a box full of snacks and drinks and we made our way down to the car.Â
I rode shotgun. He still refused to tell where we were headed. No matter how much I pushed and tried to wear him down, he just said to wait and find out. We got busy talking and listening to music and I gave up asking. Instead, I admired the scenery passing around us, and I admired Jake, with the windows down, his hair wild in the wind, and rocking out to our playlist. He had the ability to make me happy by just taking me on a drive. He didnât even have to try.Â
Eventually the buildings turned into trees, and the trees to palm trees, until finally we arrived at a clearing by the ocean. Jake parked the car, âWeâre here!â
âYou brought me to the beach!â He brought me to the beach! The ocean! The one place I loved most in the world. âI could marry you right now!â I threw my arms around him and jumped out of the car. My boots were off in a second and by the next my feet were already in the water. Jake did the same before joining me at the shore.Â
âSo, was it a good surprise?â I could hear his smile without even looking at him. And he knew the answer before I even spoke.
âThe best! Thank you, Jake. Really.âÂ
We set on an easy pace through the shore, side by side. Each picking out seashells and skipping rocks on the water. The sun wasnât unbearable, for it was afternoon. The sky was blue and almost cloudless, the only thing that altered it were the shapes of birds flying overhead. The sand was coarse and stuck to our feet, but it wasnât burning. The sea... it was an array of the bluest blues one could imagine, all coexisting for our pleasure. Jake was glowing, and I must have been too, I was incandescently happy.Â
Back at the car, I set out our snacks and liquor while Jake put in some music. Halfway through our first meal and first bottle, Jake turned up the radio, and waited for my reaction.
âI love this song!â
âI know you do, thats why I put it.â He took our food and put it away on the roof of the car; and for the second time today, pulled me by the hand to stand. âletâs danceâÂ
His touch sent electric currents up my back. Best friend. âthis song isnât danceable, Jake!â
âIt is if we want it to be.â And he held my hand in his and dragged me towards the clearing. The breeze was calming, the sea was a splendid blue. The waves lapped at the shore, not strong enough to disrupt our song.
Turns out, the song was danceable after all; and so were all the others that came after it. We held each other while we took turns twirling and laughing, belting our lyrics and acting out the drama of the songs. Every lick of his fingers on my skin left a burning sensation, yet I couldn't get enough. If he knew what this was doing to me... If he knew I was drunk on him and falling on every shared glance, every smile, every touch.Â
The sun started its descend and our dancing got closer. He held his hands of my waist, my chest pressed against his, my hands on his shoulders as we swayed around our little ballroom of a clearing. My spine tingled, with every inhale, I got drunk in his scent of pine and peppermint. Â
We got lost in our dancing, and then he got lost in the horizon. The sky had started to turn all shades of orange and pink, the water glimmered upon our eyes like tiny mirrors. A pelican flew over us and dived into the water in search for dinner.Â
We had stopped moving, yet his hands remained placed at the small of my back, he looked at ease. My fingers twirled a strand of his hair, he didnât mind.Â
He looked like he belonged in the landscape, to the oranges and pinks that tinted the sky, he belonged to nature.
And I belonged looking at him, within arms reach yet so unattainable. He would always be a mystery. There was always more to him than met the eye, and even after years of knowing him, I hadnât deciphered him completely. And I didnât intend to, he was just like that. And he wasnât mine to understand like that.Â
If all I would get were stolen glances with the setting sun as out witness, Iâd take it. Because right here, right now, the sight before me was one to behold. Jakes eyes were transfixed on the horizon, his mouth agape. The sun was finally hiding behind the waves, which mean our day was coming to an end. I tried not to think about it, I wouldnât let the sun steal the light of this day from me. Ocean breeze ruffled his long hair, and as I saw the last light of day melt into his golden brown eyes, I knew that home wasnât a place. Home is a person. And he was mine. But he would never know, for I doubted Iâd be his.Â
I was thrown out of my daydream when he slightly pulled back and chuckled. â So home is a person, huh?âÂ
âIâ â I said that out loud. Shit shit shit. I just stared at him like a deer in the headlights. There was no way to dig myself out of this, so I remained silent. Though my hear was beating like a drum and I was certain that he could feel it due to how close he still held on. Best friends donât say that.Â
There was a shit-eating grin on his face, one that said he certainly knew what was going through my head. Instead of taunting me further, he said the words Iâd most longed fo hear.Â
âThen you are certainly mineâÂ
Nothing could stop the smile that broke out across both of our faces at that. âAnd you mineâÂ
Before he had time to reply, I grabbed his face and pulled his lips to mine. There was static in the air, his lips were incredibly soft and tasted of coffee and chocolate. His mouth moved with expertise against mine, he held me close. Closer. Closer even still, until there was no space left between us. My heart was pounding, he licked at my bottom lip asking for entrance, which I gave, and deepened the kiss. My hands held on to him tightly, as if he would disappear would I let go. He dipped me slightly and I swore I would fall on the sand if he hadnât held me. The purple sky couldâve turned bright yellow and I would have paid no attention.Â
We pulled apart for air and the sun was completely gone.Â
âJake, Iââ
âI know, I feel it too. I have for a while.â
âI was so scared that you wouldn't. Ive felt this way for you for the longest time, IââÂ
âBut I do!âÂ
âBut you do!â
He pecked my lips and whispered close to my ear âAnd if you want, weâll make it official. Right now. You and me, and a million sunsets to come.â
âIâm yours for as long as you want me, Jake.â
âAnd Iâm yours forever, y/n. Even when iâm far away.âÂ
No words could describe what I felt. Itâs as if my blood was replaced by honey and my ribcage contained the moon in all her love and glory. âI wish I could stay here forever, in this moment. With you, and round the world.â
âCheck the trunk.â He smiled too wide and untangled his arms from mine.
I reluctantly let go of him and walked towards the car. He tossed me the keys and I popped the trunk open to see the second box Jake hadnât let me look into. I opened it and found all sorts of camping gear: One tent, two sleeping bags, toiletries, even pajamas. Jake creeped up behind me and slid his arms around my waist. I turned around with an incredulous grin.
âIs that a tent?!â
âThat is a tent, sweetheart.â
The end.
â- A/N:Â I literally CANNOT write unless its in 1st POV. This is 100% self-indulgent, and I have no idea how to write a kiss. Hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!Â
Prompt:Â âIs it okay to have a small soft fic with Arthur teaching MC medicine? Like first aid? Love your writing by the way!!â
Warning: None! Short and sweet fluff!
Intended Audience: Female Audience
Word Count: 902
Requested by: Anonymous
Written by: @lordsisterâ
Disclaimer:Â I do not own Ikemen Vampire or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost or reblog this on any other website.
    âItâs just a scratch, Arthur! Itâs nothing serious, really!â
    The Englishman currently tugging MC down the hallway to his room was unconvinced, turning back to her with a pout. âEven so, I donât want it to get infected. Itâs my obligation as your lover to take care of you when youâre hurt, no matter how bad it is or isnât.â
    She sighed but let him keep going, silently enjoying the way his hand cradled her injured appendage so tenderly. The two of them had been out in town, investigating another odd job, when MC had cut her finger on a rusty nail she hadnât seen, her pained hiss immediately drawing the attention of her lover. Despite her protests that she was fine, Arthur had immediately taken her back to the mansion, leaving the job unfinished and barely thinking to say goodbye to the client. He hadnât let go of her injured hand once the entire time.
    Still fixated on her injury, he shouldered open the door of his room and sat MC down on the couch, leaving to rummage through the drawers of his desk. Papers and writing utensils fell to the floor, but he didnât seem to notice, focused on his search.Â
    âArthur, do you need any help?â she offered, wincing as a thankfully empty inkwell smacked his head on its way to the carpet.
    âNone at all!â he said, waving a hand at her over his shoulder. âStay right where you are, luv!â
    âAre you su-â
    âHere it is!â he said triumphantly before pulling out a metal box and making his way back over to her. Kneeling in front of MC, he took her injured hand and examined the slash running down her pointer finger, a few drops of blood still welling from it. âIt looks deep. Does it still hurt?â
    âA little. Not much.â
    Clicking his tongue, Arthur kept one hand under hers as he opened the metal box, revealing rolls of bandages, rubbing alcohol, and even a needle and thread. âFirst, we have to disinfect it.â Pulling out the rubbing alcohol, he upended the bottle on a cloth and took her hand again. âThis is going to sting a little,â he warned.
    âIâm okay. Go ahead.â
    MC was prepared to grit her teeth against the slight sting, but the moment he pressed the cloth to her cut, he surged up and kissed her. Any pain she would have felt as he disinfected her wound was lost as his lips moved against hers, stealing her breath away and making her gasp.
    There was a cheeky grin on his face as he sunk back. âDid that hurt?â
    MCâs cheeks warmed as she answered, âN-Not at all.â
    His smile widened a little more before he looked back to her hand. âNext we bandage it.â Replacing the rubbing alcohol, he took out a roll of bandages next. Sometimes she forgot he was a doctor once upon a time, but watching him now, MC could easily picture him in the role, his hands gentle and his smile even gentler as he poured his heart into caring for others.
    âYou know I had a tetanus shot, right?â she mentioned as he wound the white bandage around your finger.
    âA vaccine?â he asked without looking up, cutting the edge and tying it into place.
    âYeah.â
    âAh, the wonders of modern medicine,â he chuckled wryly. âHearing that makes me a little less worried. Did the vaccine hurt?â
    MC hummed, thinking back on it and how scared sheâd been as a child when it was time for vaccines. âYes, a bit.â
    Arthur gave her a sly look, blue eyes sparkling. âI wished Iâd been there to distract you.â
    She couldnât help laughing at that, the warmth from before lingering on her cheeks. âI wish you had.â
    Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed her bandaged finger. âThere. All better.â
    âThanks. I told you it was nothing,â she chuckled, letting him pull her into his lap as he sat down on the couch with her. âJust a scratch.â
    âStill, now I know it definitely wonât get infected. Thank you for letting me treat it.â Leaning down, he planted two more kisses on her, one on her lips and another on her cheek. âAnd now you know how to treat a cut for the next time I get a particularly nasty papercut. Remember to give me kisses at the end, okay?â
    âI give you kisses all the time,â she pointed out, turning to wrap her arms around his neck.
    âYes, but after-treatment kisses are particularly important for my recovery and only if theyâre from you.â
    Her smiling lips met his and MC sighed pleasantly as his hands gripped her waist and pulled her further onto his lap. âIâll be sure to remember then. So what should we do for the rest of the afternoon since you freaked out and made us leave that job early?â
    Arthur licked his lips and she swallowed, already guessing what he was going to say next. âIâm thinking I should teach you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation? Who knows when that could come in useful considering all of the little misadventures weâve had. What do you say?â
    Laughing, she kissed his jaw and nuzzled into him, feeling his arms tighten around her as she breathed in the comforting smell of paper and ink that clung to him. âOh, I couldnât agree more. Sounds perfect to me.â
(Since you sent 4 of those emojis I'm gonna go off but I'll stick to one in this answer and make seperate posts for the others aksnsns)
I can't give you anything Jonathan centric (that isn't Tommy/Jonathan, one of my fave rarepairs) but Jerome features in lots of my AUs.
This one is one of my faves that's entirely self-indulgent and if it ever gets written it's probably gonna be the longest fic I ever published (Again: If it ever gets written):
I gotta apologize in advance, it's just a fun little AU I haven't put too much thoughts into in terms of plotting so this is gonna be A. Long, B. Messy and C. A little chaotic
- First off, you gotta understand that @nsfwitchy2 Me had some fun with a pretty nonsensical and definitely not canon-compliant AU where Jerome and Jeremiah have three Mums (Tabby, Lee and Barbara, who all date) and live with them and Barbara Lee as their little sister.
- Ecco also lives with them, she sees herself as both the twins' gf more than a genuine part of the family tho (for now)
- (Meanwhile at Wayne Manor Alfred and Jim date and are very tired parents of Bruce and his clone 514A, in this AU - and pretty much every AU - nicknamed Brook)
- (Selina kinda goes back and forth between living at Wayne Manor or at Lee's place)
- Also, everyone dates. The twins. The clones. Eccomiah, Jecco, Batcat, Valeyne, Wayleska, they're all fucking
- Which isn't THAT important for this particular AU but I figured I'd give a warning xD
- This is mostly my attempt to give Tabitha some more backstory? Just...how I personally see her character and how I could see her end up if things would've went differently after S2
- The google docs file is called 'How Tabitha started being a Mum while disregarding canon completely' lmao
- Like her current life involves having 4 kids (if you count Selina) and two wives and that's a hell of an AU and I just like to overthink things and play with the way things would have needed to have gone in canon to have her 'end up' like this
- Also I can see her struggling with having a family all if a sudden (that isn't a manipulative brother or a weird cult)
-Especially if that involves Motherhood
- So on one hand it's a 'S2 until now' fic, explaining what happened to her in my canon
- But also - mostly because I find that easier to organize in my brain - it's interwoven with a 5+1-esque fic of all her children calling her 'Mum' (and her getting emotional over that)
- So it switches back and forth between the past and the present but for rambling's sake, I'll start with the past
- She still leaves Theo behind and flees with Silver but she keeps Silver close instead of immediately sending her away
- And her and Silver get taken in by Fish after they leave Theo because they have nowhere to go and Fish loves taking care of strays
- (Fish, who probably didn't end up in Indian Hill but rather lives in hiding until she is ready to strike against Penguin)
- She refers to herself as Liza's Mother in canon, you can't tell me she wouldn't instantly adopt Tabby and call her 'Honey' and give her motherly advice while Tabby tries to be all bite but actually enjoys somebody taking care of her for once
- Selinađ€Tabby
'Trying so very hard all the time to not show how soft and insecure they are'
- Actually, I'd start diverting from Canon even sooner aksnsjd
- Well not full on changing canon, but I'd...pepper in some stuff
- Like some scenes of her back with Theo and the Maniax
- Mostly her talking to Theo about Jerome's planned murder, which, yeah, she knows it's been set in stone from the beginning but that doesn't mean that she isn't talking about alternatives where he doesn't get killed off
- And Theo's like "Don't tell me you're going soft. No one will miss him. He was just a boy. Not worthy enough to be remembered."
- And later on she betrays him and goes 'I remember him'
- Anyway, they stay with Fish for a while but Tabby doesn't wanna keep Silver in Gotham
- So she sends her back to the school she went to before coming to Gotham with Theo (but makes sure their weird cult can't get their hands on her there)
- And Silver wants her to come with but Tabby says she has some unfinished business
- Aka she just doesn't wanna leave Barbara (who is in a coma atm, if Memory serves right)
- And Tabby's reasoning is that it's not safe in Gotham but really, she thinks she can't be responsible for another person
- "She needs a mother. A Family. I can't give her that." - "You are her family."
- So Silver's out of the picture and Tabby hangs with Fish until Barbara wakes up and they get together again (and never ever seperate)
- Also there's no Butch/Tabby because that was unnecessary as fuck
- And I gotta be honest, I haven't thought more about canon because Butch/Tabby alone makes my head hurt already but somehow they start dating Lee
- Who brings Jerome into the relationship because I sure am fond of Lee being Jerome's Mother (like as in, I have several wips with that concept alone not counting this one)
- Jerome probably came back to life after S3 and Lee fought to have him not be treated like a violent criminal but rather a child who was taken advantage of and after his release from Arkham (where she visited him and made sure he got some proper treatment) it seemed natural to have him live with her
- (But also he's still a criminal aksnsjs, you can see how much I thought about this)
- (Sue me for sticking to the heartfelt scenes and avoiding the mess that is plotting)
- Tabby and Barbara already had Selina and through Jerome, Jeremiah and Ecco were added et voila! Their Family is complete
- (Why exactly Barbara Lee exists if Tabby and Barbara have been non-stop dating since S2 I can't tell you, I simply think she is neat and I like the idea of big brother Jerome)
- (This AU? Self-indulgent? Why would you ever think that?)
- In the present however she is dealing with what is mostly referred to as 'feelings'
- Mostly panic at realizing that the bunch of weird children she's been living with are seeing her as some kind of parental figure
- Because suddenly they all call her 'Mum'
- Unsurprisingly the first one to call her Mum is Jerome at breakfast
- She's reading the newspaper and there's an article about a hostage situation the twins planned and he goes 'Mum, are you done with that? Can we see?'
- And they snatch it from her and argue about how they didn't even make the front page while Tabby nearly chokes on her coffee
- And of course she breaks down talks to her wives about it later while they get ready for bed because no one ever called her 'Mum' before
- Barbara's braiding her hair, while Lee's off to the side, getting ready for bed and it's very domestic and I am very gay
- But neither see it as a big deal because both of them have been called Mum before (by Jerome at least. Like. Immediately upon meeting them)
- So she's trying to be nonchalant about it because it's only a big deal if she makes it one
- While also not being able to deny the warm feeling that spreads throughout her body when Jerome keeps calling her 'Mum'
- Miah and Selina on the other hand are both hesitant to call anyone Mum
- Miah cause of Pride, Selina cause of her Mummy Issues
- But they both do at some point
- I think I have more notes on this SOMEWHERE but I kinda wanna have Miah call her Mum while he's ill (because we all know he'd be super fussy and want attention 24/7)
- So she humours him and while he's close to falling asleep - and she's totally not carding her fingers through his hair because she isn't soft or anything - he mumbles: "Thank you Mum" and she melts
- Selina would be more angsty
- Like, maybe it's her birthday and she disappears for a while (as she tends to do) but Tabby (who's closest to her) knows how hard this day is for her (since again her Mum isn't there with here and looks for her and brings her back home but doesn't make a big fuss out of her birthday
- Just...lets her be, gives her space but also lets her curl up close to her and maybe Selina doesn't call her Mum on that exact day
- But it's the day she realizes she wouldn't mind calling Tabitha her Mother, so she hesitantly tries it out a while later (maybe days, maybe weeks, however long it takes for her to feel comfortable with it) and they share a smile
- Then there's Barbara Lee, but she barely counts because she's a toddler and calls everyone 'Mummy'
- Even her father ajsnsnsn
- The last one would be Ecco because I have a very soft spot for Tabby and Ecco being close
- Ecco's rather formal with them for the longest time (she calls Barbara, Lee and Tabby 'Ma'am' for the most part because she may like them, but she doesn't think they see her as family. She's just the token girlfriend).
- So there's a scene where they connect, possibly over Tabby's hand and Ecco's head since I hc that Ecco gets headaches and migraines a lot (considering that she still gets shot in the head by Miah, like I said, this AU isn't necessarily the most bullet proof in terms of linear timelines)
- But so is Gotham so-
- So there's possibly a scene where Ecco's headache is getting super bad and no one's around (especially not Miah to dote on her) and Tabby awkwardly tries to bond by telling her about her hand and how she can't feel much (is a little clumsy with it) and Ecco immediately imprints on her like a duckling
- Maybe it's even the first time anyone reached out to Ecco in a way that feels genuine, especially without the twins or any of her (various) other partners being present so now she's willing to die for Tabby
- Which ends in her also calling her 'Mum' (while she keeps calling Lee and Barbara 'Ma'am' and Lee's so mad ajsnsjdj she was trying so hard to bond with this kid but couldn't quite get it right and you're telling her her socially pretty clumsy - but still wonderful of course - wife managed with just one conversation?? Slander
- And of course because I can't stop myself, there would be even more tidbits here and there of Tabby overcoming her previous way of living (as in, thinking caring or showing emotions is weakness) by having her reminisce a LOT about Theo
- For example by having Jerome climb into bed with her while Barbara's sleeping and Tabby is waiting for Lee to come home
- Lee works as a doc in the narrows which may be a little illegal, but the people didn't just stop needing help after her Queen of the Narrows arc was over, so I vote she keeps at it (and is held in very high regard for it by pretty much everyone)
- Tabby always stays up until everyone is home because she likes knowing where everyone is and that they're safe while Jerome has frequent nightmares and wanders around the house, so this isn't a rare occurrence
- And sometimes, they talk Theo
- "You miss him?" - "Don't know."
- "I wish he was still alive so I could kill him." - "....Me too." - "Which one?" - "...Both."
- (ajajsbssj this is all just copy pasted and cleaned up a lil', leave me and my pretentious way of writing dialogue alone)
- Tabby also has a lot of interludes where she thinks about what growing up with Theo was like/her childhood in general
- How she always protected him from other children bullying him and how they swore to have each other's back but how in hindsight, she was the one doing all the dirty work for him, helping him fulfill his dream and enact his revenge
- Realizing that he probably never cared for her, not like she cared for him
- There's also allusions to them having sex because you cannot tell me they did NOT have sex
- And it ends with Tabby realizing that she is quite happy with how she ended up, even if it's neither how she thought she would ever live nor what her old self would've even wanted, possibly seeing too many attachments as 'weak' judging by the way she canonly used Butch for convenience sake at first
- And yeah, maybe now she can provide the family - the Mother - somebody else desperately needs
the last WIP of eddie month! i saved the longest for last (itâs over 11k words lmao) and hopefully you all enjoy it even though itâs forever unfinished. this was meant to be my big bang fic and then life happened and i was never able to finish it - it even has a few plot points outlined at the end (but even those donât take you to the actual end of the story, oop). anyway, happy eddie month everyone!
this was a fun experiment in which i combined my favorite parts of each canon - book, miniseries, and movies - into one weird amalgamation that probably only makes sense to me. there is canon-typical violence, homophobia including slurs (henry bowers), and mentions of suicide (stan lives, but it was close).
âEddie?â
He groaned out loud, turning his computer monitor off and turning in his desk chair.
âYeah, Ma?â He shouted.
âEddie come down here, please,â she said, her voice traveling up the stairs. He rolled his eyes and left the home office and found her standing at the bottom of the stairs. He stood on the landing at the top, looking down at her. âDown here, Eddie.â
He fought the urge to roll his eyes again as he took the stairs two at a time.
âEddie, stop that! You know how dangerous that is! What if you fell and broke a leg? You know how easily bone fragments travel, Eddie, you know ââ
âYeah, Ma, I know,â he answered, ignoring her demand. âWhat is it?â
âI wanted to let you know you have plans on Friday evening,â she told him, beady eyes staring into his own. He walked past her, squeezing by to get through the hallway and into the kitchen. It was about time for dinner anyway, he told himself, might as well make something while he was here.
âAnd what plans would those be, Ma?â He asked, assuming he had to take her to bingo or the pharmacy or the emergency room.Â
âYouâll be taking Vicky Beck to dinner.â
He turned to look at her, eyebrow raised. âWho?â
âVicky Beck, dear,â she repeated, as if saying the name again would stoke the embers of his memory. He just looked at her blankly. She sighed, annoyance radiating off of her as she plopped down into a chair at the kitchen table. âSheâs Marjorieâs daughter, Eddie. Very nice girl. Around your age, too. Sheâs a receptionist at one of the local doctorâs offices. I gave Marjorie a photograph of you to show her â sheâs very interested.â
âNo,â he said without making eye contact. He used the excuse of taking out ingredients for dinner from the pantry and refrigerator to not look at her. âIâve told you so many times, Ma, I donât want to date. Iâm not interested.â
âOh, Eddie,â she frowned. âI just worry! Whoâs going to take care of you when Iâm gone? Your health is so delicate, someone needs to be there ââ
âIâm an adult, I can take care of myself,â he told her, pouring tomato sauce from a can into a pan.Â
âClearly you arenât if you think itâs okay to use canned sauce, young man!â Sonia said, standing and smacking his hand. He huffed, putting his hands up and stepping away. âYou donât even know whatâs in the disgusting preservatives they use, this stuff is full of chemicals, youâll get cancer if you eat too much of this. Iâve told you so many times to stop buying things like this. You think youâre an adult but you donât know, you need someone to steer you right, you make terrible decisions when no oneâs around to stop youâŠâ
âBuying canned sauce is a terrible decision? Iâm the one that pays for the groceries, Ma! I should get to choose what I buy!â
She glared at him. âEdward, Iâm not in the mood for your foolishness. When you stop purchasing cancer and bringing it into our home then we can talk. In the meantime, you will be going out with Vicky Beck on Friday evening. Youâre too old to be alone, Eddie. My own health is beginning to falter, youâre going to need someone to take my place when I pass.â
He blinked at her. âYou want me to find a woman to be my new mother when you die?â
âDo not use that tone with me, young man!â
âIâm 20, I hardly think I need to be taken care of by a surrogate mom!â
âEddie,â she said, placing a sweaty hand on his cheek. He could smell the stench of her perfume and he did his best not to wrinkle his nose. âYou have always been so⊠strong-willed. So full of ideas. And that would be okay, were you not sick. But you are sick, Eddie. Your delicate immune system canât handle what others can⊠Iâve spent your whole life making sure you donât go too far, to get yourself sick or hurt. And thatâs what Iâm doing now, with Vicky. Iâm protecting you, because you need protection. No matter how hard you try to fight it, itâs the truth. So. You will see Vicky on Friday, take her to an early lunch after church on Sunday, another dinner next Wednesday, and sheâll be your girlfriend in a weekâs time.â
He knew his horror was evident on his face but he couldnât do anything to stop it. âThatâs ridiculous, Ma, you canât pick out a girlfriend for me! I donât even want a girlfriend! And you know, just because I have asthma doesnât mean I need protection from the big bad world, okay? I take my meds and I use my inhaler and thatâs all I need! I donât even need you! All you do is smother me, and force me into things I donât want, so ââ
âYou stop that right now ââ
âYou know what?â He said, a burst of adrenaline-fueled courage shooting through him. He left the kitchen and started back up the stairs. âIâm leaving. I canât stand it here anymore.â
âEddie!â She screamed, and he knew the crocodile tears were starting. He ignored them as he grabbed a suitcase and began to pack everything that would fit.
*
Twenty-six year old Eddie Kaspbrak answered his phone, wincing when his motherâs voice came through the tinny speaker.
âEddie? Eddie!â
âYes, Ma, itâs me,â he said, barely containing his annoyance.
âEddie you have to come home,â she said, sniffling. âIâve been put in a wheelchair, Eddie, I canât get around like I used to. I need help, you need to come home and help me.â
He sighed, massaging his temples as he felt a stress headache blooming behind his eyes. He eyed the medicine cabinet in the kitchen that held the Advil. âIâll hire an in-house nurse, Ma, howâs that?â
âNo!â She shouted, leaving him cringing. âThose nurses donât know what theyâre doing, Eddie, theyâre the rejects that the hospitals and doctors offices wonât take, and I refuse it!â
He looked around his small house. He had a spare bedroom downstairs, and he supposed it wouldnât be too difficult to add a ramp to get through the front door. With a little bit of self-hatred settling in his stomach, he said, âIâm not coming home, but you can come live with me.â
*
âYouâre 32, right?â Angela asked, her fingers running through the condensation on her glass. Eddie nodded, only thinking about how disgusting it was that she wasn't using a straw. (Dishes and silverware and cups at restaurants are breeding grounds for disease, Eddie, his mind mother reminded him.) âSo what are you doing living with your mom?â
He huffed. âMy mom lives with me, thereâs a difference.â
Angela raised an eyebrow at him.
âI take care of her. Sheâs old and sick, she needs help with just about everything.â
âYou knowâŠâ Angela trailed off, glancing around the room. They sat in a small booth in the corner of an Olive Garden only twenty minutes from Eddieâs house. He wasnât about to pull out all the stops for a date with yet another girl his mother set him up with. âYouâre not a very good date.â
His eyes widened. âExcuse me?â
She laughed a little. âI mean, sure, youâre cute, but⊠Nobody wants to date a guy in his thirties who lives with his mom. You probably should save that bit of information until like, date three, at least. You wonât look me in the eye, and it makes me a little nervous because you don't seem to have a problem making eye contact with anyone else. Everything about your body language screams that you donât want to be here. With me, specifically.â
âDo you do this on all your first dates?â He asked, offended.
âJust the bad ones,â she answered. âYou know, the ones with men.â
He choked.
âOh, come on, dude, look at me,â she said, gesturing to herself. Eddie frowned; he thought her flannel and boots looked comfortable. âThis look is about as gay as you can get. My mom canât accept it; she's constantly setting me up. Usually I tell her no but she showed me a picture of you and⊠well, I just had to find out what your deal is.â
âWhat the fuck is that supposed to mean?â He asked. His face was hot.
âEddie,â she said in a voice meant for a young child. âYour mom has a lot in common with my mom. I mean, I hate to assume, but I can almost guarantee that, just like mine, your mom is sending you on dates with the opposite sex as a very clear nudge in the right direction.â
He gaped at her, unable to form words.
She laughed, but this time it was a bit more sympathetic. âDid you not know?â
He shook his head, then reached into his pocket to take a hit on his aspirator. She raised an eyebrow but didnât comment.
âWell, whether you are or arenât, your mom thinks youâre gay.â
âFuck,â he whispered to himself, heart pounding against his ribcage. âI donât â what? Why?â
âI mean, youâre a single 32 year old, for starters. Iâm assuming youâve never had a girlfriend. Had any boyfriends you kept secret? She probably wouldâve caught on.â
âIâm not â Iâm not ââ He couldnât bring himself to say the word. Angelaâs expression was changing quickly from one of amusement to one of pity. She opened her mouth to say something when the waiter stopped at their table, placing their food in front of them. They began to eat in silence (Eddie had already sanitized his knife and fork), and when they started to talk again, neither of them brought it back up.
*
There werenât enough people for a funeral so instead they had a simple graveside memorial service in the Bangor Cemetery. One of his aunts spoke through crocodile tears so much like hers about what a good mother Sonia had been, and Eddieâs eyes stayed dry.
There was a method to his madness, heâd swear by it. Vitamins in the morning, followed by an anxiety pill if he needed one (he always needed one), followed by breakfast, which usually consisted of eggs (he enjoyed variety, so he made his eggs differently each day of the week â Wednesday was scrambled) and wheat toast with margarine spread on one side, the crusts cut off (the crusts are too easy to choke on, his motherâs voice said from inside his head), and then brushing his teeth. He got dressed, checked his email and the weather on his phone (a sunny day, cloud-free (but you never know, storms can just crop up out of no where â best bring your boots and rain jacket and umbrella just in case, you wouldnât want to catch a cold and end up with pneumonia just because the weather forecast was wrong) and cool), and stepped out the door of his Queens apartment.
He walked to his stop and got on the subway, used an antibacterial wipe to clean the place where his hand would be holding onto the rail (his mind mother reminded him how easy it was to catch something that way â all you have to do is rub your nose, Eddie, and suddenly youâre sick with whatever the germ-infested subway rider that stood there before you had), and held onto his phone for the 30 minute ride. He exited at the financial district and walked for 2 minutes to his office building. He used the stairs to get to the eleventh floor (take the elevator, Eddie, you donât want to aggravate your asthma) because he liked the slight burn in his legs by the time he made it to his floor. He stopped in the bathroom to wash his hands (you have to wash your hands, Eddie, you have to), said hello to Brianne at the front desk, and sat in the chair in front of his computer in his cubicle.
The work day tended to be boring. He spent a lot of time typing up reports, and even more time responding to emails. By his lunch break, he usually felt as though his brain was going to melt out of his ears. He popped two Advil to stave off the oncoming stress headache.
He ate lunch with his co-workers â they walked together a few blocks to a deli that made great sandwiches, and though he sat with them he didnât talk much. In the beginning he fielded a lot of questions he didnât want to answer, but after fifteen years they knew not to ask.
Except Daniel, who had started two weeks prior.
âSo, Eddie,â he said, as they sat in the break room. He gestured at Eddieâs left hand. âI see youâre not married.â
âNo,â Eddie agreed, taking a bite of sandwich. He hoped it would send a solid shut the fuck up message, but Daniel kept on.
âNo? You got a girlfriend, at least? Youâre what â 45?â
â40,â he said, his voice clipped.
âYouâre 40 and not married? Thatâs rough man, whatâs up with that?â
Eddie breathed in deeply, hand patting his pocket to feel for his aspirator. âJust never met the right person, I suppose.â
âNot even divorced?â Daniel asked, his voice getting higher with incredulity. Eddie bristled; it felt very much like he was being made fun of, but he didnât know what to say. It reminded him of childhood bullies, calling him names before he even knew what they meant. He'd always talked back to - well, to whoever his tormentor had been back then. Now his brain wouldn't supply him with any quippy response, any thinly veiled insult. How had he been so brazen as a kid and so timid now? He tried but he couldn't even remember much of his childhood, like everything before he was 18 and living in Bangor with his mom had a thick haze covering it.
âNever married, no girlfriend,â he said plainly, unable to come up with anything better. He looked away.
âBoyfriend, then?â Daniel said. Eddieâs stomach turned and he flushed.
âIâm single, Daniel,â he said, before wrapping what was left of his sandwich (almost all of it) and standing. âIâm going to have lunch at my desk today, if you donât mind.â
He didnât wait for an answer before leaving the room, ignoring Danielâs exclamations of âI wasnât trying to upset him!â
He sat at his desk, fuming. He could hear the voice of someone heâd been out with once, laughing in his head.
Your mom thinks youâre gay.
But he wasnât. And it wasnât that strange for someone to be 40 and single. He knew plenty of people his age that werenât married! Granted, most of them were divorced, but the point stood. Marriage wasnât everything. Love wasnât everything. Heâd made it on his own for 40 years, and besides that he wasnât interested in anyone. Couldnât remember ever liking anyone enough to do anything about it. He could recognize when women were attractive, but it didnât go beyond that. Canât a man live alone with no romantic relationship and not get shit for it?
âHey, Eddie,â said a voice from behind him. He spun in his chair. Jeanine stood there, a regretful frown on her red lips. âIâm so sorry about Daniel back there. Apparently heâs the type that doesnât know when to shut up.â
(Your mom thinks youâre gay)
âA lot of that going around,â Eddie said, trying to ignore the voice in his head telling him to ask Jeanine out. He couldnât even tell if it was his mother or someone else. It wasnât his own voice, though.
Jeanine smiled awkwardly, like she wasnât sure what he meant. âRight. Hopefully youâll still eat with us tomorrow. We told Daniel to cool it.â
âNo worries,â Eddie lied. âI needed to get some work done anyway.â
Jeanine glanced over his shoulder at his computer that he hadnât turned back on. âOf course. And I wanted to let you know⊠This office is very accepting. Thereâs no⊠Judgment here. Just⊠So you know.â
Eddie pulled his aspirator from his pocket and took a hit.
(Youâre sick, Eddie, youâre delicate, but I can protect you from yourself, a wife could protect you from yourself, youâll always be sick but)
âThank you for the sentiment, Jeanine,â he said, turning back in his chair. He heard her walk away and sagged against the backrest. Moments later, his phone rang.
He picked it up and frowned at the area code. Derry, Maine? He was⊠He was from there, wasnât he? That was where heâd lived with his mother before they moved to Bangor. Derry was the town covered with thick haze that he couldn't completely conceptualize.
He answered the call with his heart in his throat, unsure why his hands were shaking so badly.
âEdward Kaspbrak speaking.â
âEddie?â The voice said. He didnât recognize it. âEddie, itâs Mike. You need to come home. Itâs back.â
The haze began to lift.
*
âIâm glad you made it, Eddie,â Mike said, offering a hug. Eddie warily wrapped his arms around Mike before glancing around the restaurant.Â
âIf Iâd remembered more before I got on the plane, I probably wouldnât have,â he said honestly. Once he started getting flashes of a rotting leper, of a decrepit house, of a clownâs drool on his face, he wanted to turn right back around.Â
âHow much do you remember?â Mike asked.
Just before he could answer, another voice joined them.
âHey, guys.â Eddie turned and smiled. He would recognize Bill Denbrough anywhere (though he hadn't, had he? He owned his books, had seen his picture on the back cover, and he'd never thought twice about it). He stepped away after another hug, letting the other two catch up. He stood looking into the large fish tank, anything to get a reprieve from the memories that were hitting him, and then jumped when something hit the large gong next to their table. He spun, his eyes catching on red hair first. Beverly was smiling, and another man stood next to her, tall and thin and handsome, and somehow Eddie knew it was â
âBen?â
âThat was my reaction!â Beverly said with a laugh.
âYou acknowledge Ben before you acknowledge me? Some kind of best friend you are, Eds.â
âDonât call me Eds,â he said, the words spilling from his mouth without thought. He looked to Richie, wearing an ugly mustard color shirt beneath a leather jacket. He wore glasses much like the ones heâd worn in childhood, though they magnified his eyes a little less, and his hair was messy. He'd seen Richie's face, too, on a Netflix special he'd felt oddly compelled to watch. âYou actually became a comedian.â
Richieâs cheeks turned pink and he took a few steps closer, hands in his pockets.
âI mean,â Eddie continued, âItâs not ventriloquism but not half-bad!â
Richie laughed loudly, his head thrown back. âFuck, even I forgot I wanted to be a ventriloquist!â
âYou wouldâve made a terrible ventriloquist, Rich. Eddie was just too nice to tell you.â
They turned at the new voice, smiling at the curly hair and sweater.
âStanley!â
âYeah, yeah,â he said through a smile. After Eddie felt like heâd hugged everyone twice, they took their seats. He sat between Richie and Ben, right across from Bill. Stan was on Richieâs other side, already talking about his accounting firm and his wife Patty.
âShe sounds lovely,â Beverly said with a smile.
âYouâre not married?â He asked, pointing to her left hand.Â
She frowned, touching her ring finger. âUh, technically I am. I guess I kind of⊠left him?â
Eddieâs eyes widened.Â
Beverly shrugged, waving them off. âItâs fine! What about everyone else? Anyone else married?â
âI am,â Bill said. âHer nameâs Audra; you guys would probably recognize her if you saw her ââ
âOh shit, sheâs that movie star!â Richie said loudly. âAnd youâre an author, Iâve totally bought your books before, dude!â
âI have, too,â Eddie admitted. He hadnât known why he bought them at the time, but it had felt like something he needed to do. He thought he might even own a jacket from Rogue & Marsh.
âNobody else is married? What about you, Ben?â
âNo,â Ben said, cheeks pink.Â
âBut dude, youâre so hot, how are you single?â Richie said, punching a shocked laugh from Eddieâs chest.
Ben rolled his eyes playfully. âI mean, Iâm not lonely by any means ââ
Richie cut him off to whoop loudly.
âAnyway, what about you, Trashmouth?â
âNope!â
âDivorce?â Bill asked with a smirk.
âIâm offended, Big Bill. No, no divorce. Havenât had a serious relationship in⊠probably fifteen years. Kinda hard to hold anything down when youâre touring all the time.â
âMakes sense,â Beverly agreed, before her eyes met Eddieâs. He groaned. âWhat about you, Eddie?â
âUh, no marriage, no divorce, very boring. Next.â
âNo way, Eds, you canât get off the hook that easy!â Richie exclaimed. âCâmon, when was your last relationship?â
Eddie looked down at the table. âHavenât really had one. I was never really interested.â
The table had quieted, like Eddie had dropped a blanket of discomfort on all of them.
âItâs not a big deal,â he said, finally looking back up. He could feel Richieâs eyes burning a hole in the side of his head but he didnât look. âI like living alone. I have friends at work and I always have nice chats with the pharmacist and... Look, itâs not like Iâm lonely, okay? Itâs fine. Iâm fine.â
The conversation moved on quickly, Eddieâs discomfort obvious to everyone. Richie kept looking at him as though he were a puzzle, and as soon as the waitress returned to their table Eddie ordered himself a shot of whiskey and a bottle of beer, not even thinking about the fact that he would be drinking straight from the glass and don't you know, Eddie, dishes and silverware and cups at restaurants are a breeding ground for germs! Now that he'd remembered his asthma was fake, his aspirator a placebo, he felt like he could count the hours wasted on sanitization and worry about his delicate system. It made him boil with anger, that she had taken so much from him while giving him so many issues. He didn't want to waste more time. His system was fine.  Â
The night was long and draining, as much a reunion as it was a horror show. He was almost positive he remembered everything now, as did the others, and Mike claimed to have a plan. For now, though, they had some time to sleep. No point in heading into Neibolt exhausted, Bill had said with a shrug, and everyone had agreed. Eddie was finding it hard to sleep, though, with images of the leper running through his mind -
Iâll blow you for free
- And leaving him terrified and shaking. He thought back to being a kid, the same fear had kept him up at night then, too. He remembered talking to Richie about it as they read comics in the room above the Kaspbrak house garage, and Richie admitting he was having trouble sleeping, too. Kept seeing the werewolf, his own name written on Itâs letterman jacket.Â
He turned the bedside lamp on and picked up the phone without bothering to sanitize it even as his mind mother screamed at him. He looked at the directory and tried to remember which room was Richieâs. He was almost positive it was 207, one floor down and one over from his own, so he dialed the extension and waited. As the ringing sounded in his ear, someone knocked heavily on his door.
His heart seized up in his chest and he grabbed his aspirator from the side table and took a hit, even though he knew it was a placebo.Â
âWho is it?â
âEddie Kaspbrak?â A male voice from just outside the door said. âThereâs an urgent message for you at the front desk.â
âHello?â Richieâs sleepy voice said in his ear. He sighed in relief, not answering him yet.
âA message from who?â He asked loudly.
âWhat are you talking about â Eddie?âÂ
âA message from⊠Your wife,â the voice said, and Eddie froze.
âUh, one second,â he said to the person on the other side of the door, then lowered his voice and spoke into the phone. âRich, someoneâs at my door saying I have a message from my wife.â
âYou donât have a wife,â Richie said, confused.
Eddie huffed. âYeah, exactly!â
âOh, fuck,â Richie said, and Eddie could hear shuffling on his end of the phone. Then, another noise, somehow both quiet and the loudest thing heâd ever heard. He watched with wide eyes as the lock on his door turned slowly until it clicked.
He opened his mouth to tell Richie whoever it was at his door had a key and to hurry the fuck up, but the line was beeping like Richie had already hung up. Slowly, he shoved the blankets off, putting his feet securely on the floor. He glanced around for something he could use to defend himself. A lamp? The phone? Why the fuck hadnât he brought a knife or a gun to this clown fight?
The door slammed open, hitting the wall and revealing a man in a tattered jumpsuit. He had a knife in his hand.
Panic seized Eddieâs chest. The irrational part of his brain wanted to grab his aspirator for another puff but he knew it would be his last, so instead, without thinking it through, he charged forward as fast as he could, throwing his weight against the door as it bounced off the wall and back toward the man.Â
Both men screamed. Eddie out of pure adrenaline and fear, some part of him wondering why the fuck heâd done that, and the other man because his foot and arm were smashed in between the door and the frame. Eddie kept his weight against the door knowing he didnât have a lot of time; he didnât weigh much, and this guy seemed particularly strong. He looked at the hand holding the knife, the small rivulets of blood dripping where the edge of the door had cut into the skin, and he grabbed a hold of it with both hands, trying to pry meaty fingers from the handle without cutting himself.
He didnât manage it before the man pushed back with his own full body weight, throwing Eddie to the ground. He landed with a muted thud on his back and the man pushed into the room, spotting Eddie immediately. In the brief eye contact, Eddie realized with certain clarity that this man was Henry Bowers.
Henry Bowers, who had held him down and broken his arm with his bare hands. Henry Bowers, who had punched him in the nose more times than he could count. Henry Bowers, who had beaten Richie up again and again, who had mocked Billâs stutter and Stanâs religion. Henry Bowers, who left even Beverly, the strongest of them, trembling. Henry Bowers, who had killed Mikeâs dog.Â
Eddieâs eyes flitted to the knife in his hand and a chill ran down his spine. Just yesterday he couldn't remember this man's name, but he remembered he used to fight back.
As a kid, he fought back against Henry Bowers, who somehow had the same knife heâd used to carved Ben open, the same knife with which heâd murdered his own father.
Henry lunged at Eddie, still on the floor. He kicked upward, one foot landing in the soft pudge of Henryâs stomach, the other his groin. Henry didnât seem to notice, which left Eddie feeling terrified â what if this wasnât Henry at all? What if this was something much, much worse?
âHow ya doinâ, little queer boy?â Henry asked, his voice hardly having changed at all. âReady to get all cut up? Teach you to throw rocks!â
Eddie kept his foot wedged against Henryâs stomach, though the weight of him was causing a steady throb down his leg. Moving quickly, he pulled his other foot back and kicked again, this time aiming for the hand with the knife. Henry seemed taken off guard but he didnât drop the knife, just leaned more of his weight onto Eddieâs leg. He cried out, giving in and planting his other foot against Henryâs stomach to hold him back. Henry didnât seem to mind that he was leaning all his weight against Eddieâs feet, hovering over him like a ghost.Â
âNot quite strong enough, are ya, fag?â
Eddie grimaced - the first time Henry called him that, he hadn't even known what a fag was.Â
Henry brought the knife closer, almost able to reach Eddieâs face. With fear stronger than heâd felt in a long time thrumming through his veins, he grabbed Henryâs wrist with both hands, pushing him back. He let his fingernails dig into the place where the door had cut him, and Henry screamed, finally dropping the knife. Eddie glanced to his left and saw it, and with one hand still gripping into Henryâs wounded arm he reached over and grabbed it, plunging it upward into Henryâs chest just above where his feet held him up.
Henryâs eyes widened and Eddie sobbed as blood dripped onto his hand where he held the handle of the knife. He yanked it back out but Henry had become dead weight and his legs crumbled beneath it. He yelled, and then heard another voice.
âWhat the fuck!â
âRich, help,â he said, hardly able to breathe under Henryâs weight. He was still wriggling, but Eddie kept a tight grip on the knife. Then Henryâs weight was being lifted a bit and Eddie helped, shoving until he landed on his back next to Eddie, blood seeping into the front of his shirt. Eddie stabbed again, but Henry caught the blow with his hand, and Eddie screamed as the blade sliced through the rough palm. Henry stared up at him, with a look that Eddie could almost describe as confused.
âEds, Eds, whatâs ââ
âItâs Bowers,â he shouted, finally gathering the nerve to rip the knife out of Henryâs hand. Henry yelled and swung, smacking Eddie in the side and knocking the breath out of him. His uninjured hand came at him curled in a fist and managed to land on his eye. He stumbled backward a little on his knees, eyes closed against the blow, and without looking plunged the knife down again. Henryâs shrill scream and Richieâs Jesus fucking Christ oh my God oh my God let him know whatever he hit wasn't pretty but it wasnât enough to be fatal.
A final time, he lifted the knife and opened his eyes. Henryâs face was covered in gushing blood, what was left of his eyeball hanging out of the socket. Eddie felt the Chinese food heâd eaten threaten to make a reappearance. From the corner of his eye he saw Henryâs arm begin to move and he flinched, not ready for another hit, but then Richieâs foot slammed the hand into the ground and Eddie plunged the knife back into Henryâs chest, over what he was pretty sure was his heart.
He pulled the knife out and threw it on the ground. It slid across the floor and stopped beneath the TV stand. Eddie pulled himself off of Henry, uncaring if he was still alive; if he was, Richie could deal with it. His own head spun, pain radiated down his legs, and his eye socket throbbed. He fell onto the bed with his eyes closed. For a moment he only heard the slight noise of movement from Richie, and then:
âHoly fuck, dude, you fucking killed him.â
Eddie let out a long breath of relief before saying, âdonât say it like that. It was self-defense.â
âWell obviously,â Richie agreed, and then threw up. The sound and smell made Eddieâs stomach turn again, and he leaned over the bed, grabbed the wastebasket, and lost his own dinner.
*Â Â
They had migrated to Richie's room, after a brief talk with the rest of the losers to inform them of what happened. Everyone was appropriately horrified and offered to come sit with them for the rest of the night, but Eddie insisted he just wanted to sleep and he wanted to do it in a room without a dead body. Richie had offered his own, promising to keep quiet so Eddie could get some rest.Â
Eddie had been unable to sleep, though. By the rigidness of Richie beside him, he was sure he wasn't the only one.
"So what's it like, being famous?" He said quietly into the darkness. He felt Richie jolt and he apologized with a laugh.
"No, it's fine, uh," Richie sighed. Eddie felt the comforter jostle like he was resituating himself. "I dunno, honestly. Kind of boring? I mean, don't get me wrong, in the early days I partied a lot. Slept around, got into things I shouldn't have. But⊠being clean and telling jokes you didn't even write? Kinda shit, not gonna lie."
"God, I fucking knew you didn't write your own shit," Eddie said. "I don't even know how I knew, but I'd watch all your stupid specials and like, be annoyed at myself because this guy is so obviously a fraud, why the fuck do I religiously watch everything he puts out?"
"Could have been my charming good looks," Richie joked, and Eddie felt his cheeks heat up.Â
"Definitely not that," Eddie said with a hollow laugh. "Apparently somehow I just knew you were my best friend and I was pissed because I know you're so much funnier than the shit you say onstage."
"Oh," Richie said. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know how to fucking do this. How do you have conversations with people that aren't too much but don't feel like fucking small talk? Richie was his best friend once upon a time, would've been his best friend their whole lives if Derry hadn't fucked them up.Â
But would they have been? Would they have been best friends if they'd grown up together? Navigated their early twenties together? Would he have dropped Richie the second he got into whatever shit he got into in LA? Would Richie have dropped him when he realized Eddie was fucking boring, with a desk job and a mother he couldn't escape? Would he have been just another person shoving him on dates with girls he didn't want to date? Another person asking why he wasn't married yet? Another person to think -
Your mom thinks you're gay.
He bit his lip. He couldn't think about that right now, not when their literal lives were on the line. He'd been putting off his sexuality crisis for years, it could wait another 24 hours.
Because that's what it was, and he knew it. He remembered the feelings from being a kid. He remembered the swooping sensation in his stomach, the blushing, the constant need to be the center of Richie's attention. He didn't think he knew what it was back then, but now? Now he knew what all those things meant. He knew what they meant when he felt them sitting next to Richie at dinner, and now, laying next to him in bed.Â
But that was for a later date, if he even made it to a later date.
All Eddie could hear in the room was the whirr of the air conditioner, Richie's breathing right next to him, and his own heart pounding in his ears. He closed his eyes, willing himself to relax enough to even doze, but the quiet was broken when Richie cleared his throat.
"Yeah?" Eddie asked, when Richie didn't follow up with anymore sounds.
"I just - " He sighed. "You remember how we thought⊠When we were kids⊠That some of our power, or whatever, came from the lucky seven? None of us could have hurt It on our own but we could together, and we worked together and we all loved each other and looked out for each other."
"Yeah, I remember that."
"I don't feel like we're the lucky seven anymore," Richie admitted. Eddie didn't know what to say. "We're not⊠Together⊠the way we used to be. We were like one single unit back then. Even with Ben and Bev and Mike, we'd barely met them but they just fit with us. And now we just feel likeâŠ"
"Like seven adults who haven't spoken in over 20 years?" Eddie finished for him.
"Yeah." Richie's voice was sad. "We're not kids anymore, you know? And we don't know each other. Eds, I don't think we can even say we're friends anymore."
"That's not true," he argued, turning his head on his pillow to see the outline of Richie's face in the dark. He wasn't wearing his glasses but he was facing the ceiling. Eddie couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. "We all fell right back into old habits at dinner! It was like nothing's changed."
"But it has changed!" Richie said, his voice rising a little. Eddie jostled when Richie pushed himself up, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. Eddie stared at him and chewed on his lip. "God, are you telling me you still act like that as an adult? I can just look at you and tell you're not somebody who trades sarcastic insults with anyone. And I don't still joke about fucking people's mothers and I don't constantly slip into shitty Voices all the time and I don't just fucking make fun of people like an asshole! But we both - we both regressed! Like, some shit happened when we got back together and all of a sudden we were both shitty little teenagers again! All of us! Bill's stutter came back, for fuck's sake! Ben's an awkward fucking mess around Bev, as though that guy isn't swimming in pussy right now -"
"That's fucking gross, Richie," Eddie muttered, pushing himself against the wall.Â
"I'm just saying," Richie continued, "that we all get along as 13 year olds. Not as the people we are now."
"That's - " Eddie paused and blinked hard, surprised to find his eyes filling with tears. "It's just because that's how we're used to acting with each other. If we all spent time together again I bet we'd end up acting more like who we are now."
Richie scoffed. "Eddie, who you are now would hate who I am now."
"I wouldn't hate you." He reached out hesitantly, rested his hand on Richie's broad back. "Why do you think I'd hate you?"
"You - You hate getting dirty! And you dress like you're ninety, your hair is like, combed, and you've clearly never used a drug in your life. You -"
"I'm gonna stop you, dude." Eddie readjusted himself so he was sitting facing Richie, who's blue eyes were clearer than ever without his glasses on, even in the dark. "The actual regression I experienced was turning back into the person I was before that summer, before I found out about my asthma. The scared kid who carried a fanny pack full of disinfectant wipes became a scared adult who kept disinfectant wipes in his briefcase and Advil in his pocket right next to his aspirator. I have been alone for the last 20 years. And I've wasted so much time being the delicate child my mother wanted me to be. Who I was at 13 is more me than who I am at 40. And I think - I think that's why we all regressed the way we did. Because we were happy together, at 13, and I don't think any of us are happy now."
Richie stayed quiet.
"Well," Eddie amended, "except for Stan. But he acted like an adult as a kid, so I don't think that counts. Anyway, I don't give a shit about what you've done in your past. I lived with my mother until she died in my mid-thirties. I've never had -" He cut himself off, feeling his face heat up. "Never mind. The point is that we are still the same people we were at 13. The people we've been for the last 20 years? That wasn't really us. This is us. Lucky seven."
"Okay," Richie whispered. Eddie ignored the way he swallowed thickly. "I think I - I think I'm just scared. Just going over every single way we could fail. And even - even if you're right about us, how we're all still the same⊠There's so much about each other we don't know. We don't really know much about how we've each spent the last two decades. Or where we've worked, where we've lived, who we've fucked. It's like we're strangersâŠ"
Eddie cleared his throat, willing his blush to disappear. "Maybe⊠Okay, this might sound stupid, so if you laugh afterward, I'm giving myself permission to hit you."
Richie snorted. "Alright, go ahead."
"We should find a way for all of us to know each other again. So we're not strangers. We should be the strongest version of the losers club when we go into the sewers, right? Losers club doesn't have secrets. Maybe we - you know, we bond with each other again. By telling each other stuff. You know?"
"Are you saying you want to sit in a circle and tell each other secrets?"
Eddie huffed. "Essentially, yes."
Richie laughed a little but held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not laughing at you! Just - I mean, why not? It couldn't hurt. Maybe we could re-do the blood pact, too?"
Eddie grimaced. "Yeah, Rich, let's physically weaken ourselves before we go fight a demon space alien. That's a super good idea."
"Well you don't have to be mean about it, dickhead."
Eddie laughed and shook his head. "How about, if we all live, we'll -"
"If we all live?! Don't say shit like that man!"
"I've already killed a man, Richie, I don't think death is completely off the table."
"Fuck, you killed a man." Richie sounded awed and a little scared.
"And you were very helpful, by the way." Eddie smirked.
"Listen, Eds, you've always been the brave one, we all know that, Mr. This is Battery Acid."
"I think I called It Fucknuts, too," Eddie recalled. He remembered spraying his aspirator at It, but even still he couldn't picture It clearly. "Do you remember what It looked like? It's real form, not any of the glamours."
Richie paused. "I don't - I don't think so? I just - I remember the eye in the sewers. When we all stood around like idiots and you screamed at us to step the fuck up. But other than thatâŠ"
Eddie remembered that, too. He'd lost his shoe in the eye, kicking it and screaming at the others to help him. It almost shocked him, to remember himself as being brave. But he had been. He'd attacked first, both the eye and⊠Whatever It became, in the end. His aspirator had really hurt It.Â
"I wonder if we really saw ItâŠ" Eddie said. Another memory had hit him, one of Richie holding a baseball bat, of Bill trapped under Pennywise's arm. "I think - I think we hurt It while It was the clown. Maybe that's - maybe part of why It didn't die is because it was still using a glamour. It escaped before we hurt it enough to see the true form."
"That's - I mean, it was weird that Pennywise just boltedâŠ"
"And Richie?" He reached out again, a little more confident, and touched Richie's arm. The contact made his chest clench. "You're brave, too. Don't you remember? Now I'm gonna have to kill this fucking clown."
Richie laughed quietly. "I hadn't remembered that until you said it."
Eddie hadn't remembered the battery acid or the eye until Richie brought them up, either. He wondered if it was because neither of them were the kind of people who looked for the good in themselves, and if there were other things they'd done that they could be proud of and just hadn't remembered yet. He hoped so. He hoped they still had some of that bravery left.
Richie flopped back down, head hitting the pillow as he released a loud sigh. Eddie followed suit, his face warming when he realized Richie had landed closer than he was before. They werenât touching, but he could feel the heat from Richieâs arm only inches from him.
âWe should probably try to sleep before⊠Well, we should try to sleep.â Richieâs voice had quieted. Eddie could barely hear him over the whirr of the air conditioner. âGoodnight.â
âNight, Rich,â he murmured. He hoped Richie couldnât hear the fondness in his voice over the sound of the AC. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. He was asleep in minutes.Â
*
Three short knocks on the door woke Eddie a few hours later. His left side was warm and he mindlessly moved into the heat before his muddled and tired mind remembered it was Richie next to him, still sleeping with breaths so loud it could almost be called a snore. Light poured in through the window so that Eddie could see Richieâs relaxed face, and staring down at the other man distracted him enough that he jolted at the sound of more knocks.
âRich? Eddie? W-w-wake up, weâre meeting d-d-d-downstairs in twenty!â Billâs voice drifted through the door and Eddie sighed, sitting up and shaking Richieâs shoulder.
âMph,â Richie said, rolling away from Eddie.
âWake up, didnât you hear Bill?â
âWas ignoring him,â Richie answered bluntly. Eddie rolled his eyes and got up, heading toward the door just as Bill began to knock again.
âHey,â he said, opening the door to find Billâs fist mid-air. âWeâll be down soon, but can I talk to you first?â
Bill nodded, and Eddie closed the door behind them.
âRich and I were talking last night and⊠Well, we were talking about how we donât really feel like the lucky seven anymore. Weâve lost some of the connection we had as kids, and that connection is a huge part of why we survived last time. I just think â We think we should do something to bond again, like how we bonded at the Jane but⊠More. Maybe â Maybe we could go downstairs and just⊠share things about ourselves. You know, the kind of important things you share with your closest friends.â
Billâs eyebrows had risen and Eddie bit his lip awkwardly. If Bill didnât go for it, it wasnât going to happen, and something in Eddieâs chest told him it needed to happen if they were going to survive.
Finally Bill shrugged. âI m-m-m-mean, it couldnât hurt.â
âRight,â Eddie agreed. âSo⊠If you could let everyone know whatâs going on? Weâll meet you downstairs soon. Iâm probably going to have to physically yank Richie out of bed, soâŠâ
Bill nodded. âThatâs fine. Iâll see y-y-you down there s-s-soon.â
Eddie thanked him and went back into the room, surprised to see the bed empty and the bathroom door closed. He sighed in relief that Richie had gotten himself up and went to his suitcase to pull out clean clothes. Richie finished in the restroom quickly and they switched, Eddie hurrying through his morning routine and dressing, anxious to get downstairs.
He stepped out of the bathroom without looking up, his pajamas folded in his hands, and after a few steps toward his suitcase he raised his head, confused by the silence.
He swallowed thickly at the sight of Richie standing in the middle of the room in just jeans, the hem of his boxers visible, the trail of hair leading down into his boxers all Eddie could see.
âSorry,â he choked, looking away as quickly as he could force his head to move, feeling the heat light up his cheeks. He cursed himself in his head, power walking the rest of the way to his suitcase and focusing all his energy on making sure all his things were placed neatly and organized inside, trying not to think about Richie, half-naked, a few feet away.
He could hear Richie clear his throat behind him, but his voice still came out strained. âNo worries.â
Eddie nodded without looking up. His hands were clenched into fists.
âUm,â Richie said awkwardly, when Eddie didnât move. Eddie let out a breath and stood up, turning to face Richie, only to find himself again faced with a bare-chested Richie.
âWhat the fuck!â
âSorry!â Richie said, not moving.
âPut your fucking shirt on!â
âRight.â
Richie bent over to reach into his suitcase and Eddie stared with his mouth open at the way the muscles in his arms moved, the way his back arched. He realized as he stared that there was no longer any attempts at denying his sexuality. This was it. He couldnât look away as Richie pulled a shirt over his head. His cheeks were still hot and he waited for some joke from Richie, something like take a picture, itâll last longer, or like what you see, Eds?, but Richie remained quiet.
âSo,â Eddie said once Richie was fully dressed. âWeâre meeting the others downstairs.â
âTo share secrets?â
âShut up,â Eddie said, walking out the door. They could hear the chatter of the others as they headed down stairs, and Eddie realized without surprise they were the last to make it down.
âHey!â Beverly greeted. âGood thing youâre here, we were about to start without you.â
âActually we already finished without you,â Stanley said, sly grin on his face. âGuess you guys donât get to be part of the club anymore.â
"How dare you, Stanley," Richie said, skipping over to plop onto the floor next to Stan's spot on the couch. Beverly and Ben sat on the loveseat while Bill, Mike, and Stan took up the couch. There was a single armchair waiting, empty, between Richie's spot on the floor and Ben and Beverly, and Eddie took his spot.Â
"We decided Bill will go first," Mike said, and Eddie nodded. It made sense in a way he couldn't explain. Of course Bill would go first. Bill would always go first.
"So," Bill started, then stopped. He cleared his throat and turned his face to the floor. Eddie bit his lip nervously, his heart beginning to beat faster as he waited for Bill's secret. "I wasn't s-sick. The day G-G-G-Georgie died. He - he wanted me to go out and p-p-p-play with him, but I didn't - I didn't want to. It wasn't that I didn't l-l-l-love him, or -"
"It wasn't your fault," Beverly said to him. "Nobody could've known what would happen."
Bill's face was red but he didn't cry. His eyes were resolute as he looked around at each of them. "I feel so g-g-guilty for what I d-d-did. And I feel g-g-g-guilty that I hadn't th-th-thought about G-Georgie in over 20 years."
"Pennywise wiped our memories, man, that's not -"
"I knew I had a l-l-little brother thatd-d- died. I knew his n-n-name, how old he w-was. And it was like⊠I d-d-didn't care. It d-d-didn't m-m-mean anything. I re-re-re-remembered him and it didn't m-mean anything."
"Fuck that," Richie said suddenly. "Seriously, Bill, fuck that shit. You didn't really remember Georgie, because if you did you would've spent the last 27 years feeling like you feel right now. We all know it. It's not your fault you didn't remember and it's not your fault he died."
"I know you probably don't believe that," Eddie added, "but it's true. None of it was your fault. And you're the one who led us to beat Pennywise the first time. You ended the cycle early, man. You saved lives."
Bill shook his head, still avoiding meeting anyone's eyes. "W-W-We all did that."
"Then maybe we should all get a pat on the back for it," Ben suggested. "We all did something that saved who knows how many lives. We should all - you know, give ourselves credit for it."
Eddie thought back to the night before, discussing all the things with Richie that he hadn't remembered doing. All the moments he was brave, strong, powerful. How he and Richie didn't remember them because they struggled to see their own strength.
"I agree," he said, nodding to Ben. "We all need to give ourselves more credit for what we did. Yeah, It came back, but we stopped it back then. The killings, they stopped. We were all brave as fuck, guys. And we can be brave as fuck again."
"I don't recall being brave as fuck," Stan said quietly. "I only remember being terrified out of my mind."
"That's what being brave is, though," Mike told him. "Doing something even when it scares you. And you're being brave right now, just by being here, Stanley. All of you are. We're all terrified but we're all here, and that, as Eddie so eloquently put it, is brave as fuck."
"Well said." Beverly smiled softly. "You should go next, Mike."
Mike looked surprised for a moment, eyes widening a bit, but he quickly nodded, shuffling in his seat.Â
"Well," he started, looking around at each of them. "I guess you know I've kept up with each of you, but not - not quite the extent that I've kept up with you. I've read all of Bill's books and seen every movie adaptation. I've seen every television appearance Richie's ever made. I've read every article ever written about Ben. I've driven up to Bangor a few times, to one of those fancy department stores, just to see Bev's clothes in person. Couldn't afford to buy anything, but -"
The group paused as an uncomfortable undercurrent swept through the room. Eddie noticed he wasn't the only one who wouldn't meet Mike's eyes.
"Don't be weird about it," Mike said with a soft sigh. "It is what it is. And this - this tension, this discomfort⊠That's what Eddie's talking about. To be the Lucky Seven we have to push through what makes us uncomfortable. You guys can't walk on eggshells around me anytime finances come up. We can't walk on eggshells around each other at all. This is the point of this. We've got to share the hard shit, too."
Eddie didn't know what to say, so he kept his mouth shut. He looked up, though, and Mike was giving a comforting smile to them all. Eddie breathed in deeply and let it out slowly as Bill agreed with Mike, and the awkward tension began to dissipate.
"Anyway," Mike continued, "it's been hard to be the one to stay here. I won't lie, there were so many times over the years that I thought about calling one of you. And there were times over the years that I even resented you guys a little, for being able to leave. But this was what I was meant to do. This was my job. I accepted that, and I'm okay with it. I've made my peace with it."
"I'm sorry you had to stay here, Mike," Ben said. Mike just shrugged good-naturedly.
"Well, if we're going to be talking about the uncomfortable shit, maybe I should go next." Eddie raised his eyebrows at the bluntness in Bev's voice. She huffed a short laugh. "I mean - I mentioned leaving my husband at dinner but⊠There's so much more to it. He - Well. I'll start with - I have one very close friend. Her name's Kay, and I've known her a long time. And it's⊠it's funny, you know, when someone knows you, how they can see through your bullshit? Kay can see through my bullshit. But she never called me on it. Don't get me wrong, she told me to leave him for years, before we were ever even married, but she never⊠She had to have known, you know?"
Eddie swallowed thickly as Bev rambled, her voice catching a few times. His hands balled up into fists, a response to the anger that was slowly building inside his chest as Beverly spoke.
"But I'm glad she never brought it up because⊠I don't know how to talk about it, especially with someone who never met⊠Well, someone who never met my father. I didn't know how to talk about the shame I feel for running from my abusive father into the arms of an abusive husband. I don't know why I did it. I don't know why I stay."
Tears were dripping down her cheeks now, and Eddie had the urge to reach over and hold her hand, but Ben already had an arm around her shoulders and Stan was clutching her hand.
"Anyway, I - I left him. I had to⊠He didn't want me to. And part of me is⊠so fucking scared that I'm going to go right back to him after Derry."
"That's n-not going to h-h-happen, Bev," Bill said quickly, leaning closer to her to put a comforting hand on her knee. "We won't l-let you."
âIt shouldnât be like that. Isnât it the same thing? Putting my wellbeing in the hands of yet another man? Trusting in you guys to keep me from going? It needs to be my own decision, and it needs to come from my own strength.âÂ
No one spoke for a moment. Eddie watched as Beverly wiped her tears with her free hand. Finally, Ben turned to face her and said, âwe wonât make the decision for you, but no matter what you decide weâll be there to support you. Obviously we all want you to be safe and not go back to him, but no one here is your keeper. We just love you and want the best for you. And if you leave you wonât be alone. Weâll all be there for you.â
The others murmured their agreements and Bev smiled through her tears, thanking them quietly.
"I'll go next," Stan offered, raising his hand a little. "I⊠Well, I guess I'm sort of Twitter famous? I've got a blue checkmark and everything."
"I'm sorry?" Richie asked, voice rising in pitch. "It took me two years to get a fucking checkmark and they gave one to you?!"
Stanley shrugged. "I had a commercial for my accounting business go viral."
No one said anything. Eddie stared blankly at Stan as though he'd grown a second head.
Stan huffed. "Patty and I made a commercial when I first started the company. We filmed it ourselves because we didn't have money to hire anyone and it was just - it was just me at my desk, and Patty standing next to me. And I'm just talking, you know, about why people should choose me as their accountant. But Patty apparently found it absolutely hilarious because she kept, like, laughing - snorting while I was talking. And in my head I'm thinking, there's no way we're going to use this, this is ridiculous, and I smile at the end - well, Patty says it's a grimace but what's the difference, really? - and Patty, completely unscripted, yells "call Uris Accounting for all your accounting needs!" and then I started laughing. Anyway, she posted it on Facebook without telling me and it went viral -"
"Holy fuck, I've seen that!" Richie yelled, throwing his hands up. "It's - there's a YouTube video, one of those compilations, called 'People Breaking and Laughing on Camera (Almost Entirely Richie Tozier Laughing at His Own Jokes)'! We're in the same compilation YouTube video!"
"You have the name of the video memorized?" Eddie asked. Richie laughed.
"That's terrible news," Stan said. Richie laughed harder. "Anyway, now the company's Twitter has thousands of followers who think my deadpan humor and random observations are hilarious. My actual secret is that I don't actually write any of it - Patty does. She's the funny one but she isn't a big fan of too much attention so people think it's me."
"Aw, it's okay, Stan, Richie doesn't write his jokes, either," Ben said with a grin. Eddie laughed, watching happily as Richie began to yell indignantly.Â
It took a few minutes for the group to calm down. Eddie sat and soaked it in, trying to ignore the twisting in his gut that told him this lighthearted fun was going to end soon. That they may never get this feeling back again.
"Anyway," Stan said finally. "Patty's very funny. She calls my car The Sedanley."
"We are," Stan agreed, his cheeks pink. "Anyway, who's next? Eddie?"
Eddie's stomach clenched and he bit his lip. He cleared his throat, finding a spot on the floor to stare at so he could avoid the eyes of his friends. This was his idea in the first place, he certainly couldn't back out now.
"Before I say anything, I just want to say I've never told anyone this, and it's⊠Well, it's quite embarrassing and I'd really appreciate you all not making fun of me."
"W-We'd never m-m-make fun of you," Bill assured him immediately. Eddie gave him an incredulous look. Bill laughed a little. "Okay, f-f-fair enough, we d-definitely would. B-B-But wew- won't! You can t-t-tell us."
"Yeah," Eddie muttered. He took a few deep breaths and opened his mouth. âIâve never⊠you know, done it. LikeâŠâ His eyes darted around at each of them and his cheeks pinked. He lowered his voice to a whisper, âSex.â
Stan laughed. âClearly, if you feel like you have to whisper the word sex.â
âWe promised no laughing! Nobody laughed at your stupid Sedanley!â
"Oh, honey," Bev said. "Why not? You could get any woman you wanted!"
Eddie didn't look up from the floor. His hands were balled up into nervous fists.
"Or man?" She continued. A question.Â
Before Eddie could speak, Richie's voice broke the tense silence. âNo! You arenât allowed to come out!â
âI kn-kn-know youâre not about t-t-to be homophobic,â Bill interrupted.
âLike you can talk,â Richie answered, annoyed. âHave you ever written a character that wasnât straight?â Bill tried to answer but began stammering worse than usual. âAnd Iâm not being homophobic. But if Eddie comes out right now and steals my goddamn thunder then that would be biphobic. Because Iâm bi. That was my secret. So. Now, Eddie, if thereâs anything youâd like to sayâŠâ
âYouâre the fucking worst,â Eddie told him. âAnd I donât⊠I donât know. Iâve never had feelings strong enough for anyone, man or woman, to ever do anything about it. I suppose Iâve found men attractive before, but never anyone that I knew or liked or â I suppose mostly celebrities, strangers on the subway, things like that. I never⊠I guess I havenât met many people that have caught my interest.â
"Sounds like you need to lower your standards,â Stan said bluntly.
âNah,â Ben said, smiling at Eddie. âI get what he means. I never really formed any connection with anyone either. Before you guys I was lonely, and after you guys I was lonely. I suppose I had been interested in someone when I was younger, but⊠I forgot about her. Maybe eventually youâll remember someone, Eddie. Someone who caught your interest.â
Eddie finally glanced up, his eyes immediately finding Richie, who was staring resolutely at the floor. He chewed on his lip. Finally he looked over at Ben and said, âI think I will remember. Eventually.â
"Well," Richie said loudly, and Eddie jumped. Richie's cheeks were bright red and he shoved his glasses up his nose with his pointer finger. "Since I already spoiled my secret, I guess I don't have to go."
"We're very proud of you, Richie," Bev said with a soft smile. "Even though you ruined Eddie's moment."
"Sorry 'bout that, Eds," Richie said with a small shrug and a sheepish smile. "Couldn't let you steal my gay thunder."
Eddie furrowed his brows. "Didn't you just say you were bi?"
Richie waved him off. Eddie noticed his face was still flushed. He pushed his glasses up his nose again. Eddie clenched his hands into fists as he watched Richie fidget, knowing the other man was nervous but not being completely sure what he was nervous about. Eddie had said he would probably remember someone he had feelings for⊠Could Richie be figuring him out? Could Richie already know that Eddie had those feelings?
And now that he knew Richie was into men as well⊠Could he return those feelings?
"-but like I said earlier, to Eddie, I feel like I'm only just remembering the girl I lovedâŠ" Eddie realized he'd been ignoring Ben, who was obviously talking about Beverly. The two of them were still next to each other, but Eddie could sense some discomfort in Beverly's body language. He thought about how her entire life had revolved around men and felt a pang in his chest for her. She deserved a break.
"So, w-w-what do you th-th-think, Eddie?" Bill said. Eddie startled, tearing his eyes from where they'd rested on Bev. Ben had finished talking and Eddie was hit with a wave of guilt that he'd been too inside his own head to really listen. But he knew the gist of it, right? Ben loved Bev, Ben had been lonely as an adult. He was basically just repeating Eddie's life story, although probably without the virginity aspect.Â
"I mean⊠I dunno. Do you guys feel closer?"
Bill shrugged helplessly. Eddie's heart sank. He didn't feel any different, either.Â
"I think this was good," Richie said, stepping up beside Eddie and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "At the very least we're better off than we were before. It was like a trust exercise, you know? It - it worked."
Eddie looked up at him. He was giving Eddie what was probably supposed to be a reassuring look, but from the angle Eddie was at, looked more like a grimace. Eddie laughed a little.
"W-Well, alright th-th-then," Bill said, heading toward the front door of the Inn. "Let's g-g-go."
*
By the time they made it to the small door that led to It's lair, Eddie could barely breathe. Nothing had happened the entire way. Why had nothing happened? Where was It?
"WellâŠ" Richie said with a shrug. "No news is good news, right?"
"I don't think that applies here," Stan said, his voice trembling.
"Are we ready, then?" Mike asked. Eddie gripped his aspirator and shot it into his mouth. The others nodded grimly. Mike pushed the door open, and they went inside.
Amidst the chaos - It turning into a giant spider with Pennywise's face, chasing them down tunnels that lead to nothing good, three doors with no right answer - Eddie had clutched his aspirator in his hand. He hadn't thought about it, but now, as he watched Richie's body float into the air, eyes white, he thought that perhaps he'd known all along. He remembered spraying the aspirator into the giant eye, remembered - this is battery acid, fucknuts! - and he stepped forward.
He didn't utter a sound as he sprayed the aspirator at It, watching as the mist hit one of the spider legs. It's head swung around to face Eddie, so close Eddie could smell It's rancid breath.
"Battery acid," he said coolly, before shooting off the aspirator again. He was close enough now that the mist sank into one of It's eyes. Pennywise's voice bellowed around the cavern, screaming in pain, and Eddie sprayed again, this time aiming for It's open mouth. Just as his finger pressed down, just as the HydrOx filled It's mouth, Eddie was slammed into from the side. He lost his grip on the aspirator and landed hard on the ground, but his eyes didn't leave the spider. He watched as the mouth, filled with razor-sharp teeth, clamped down where his arm had just been.Â
"You're a fucking idiot, Kaspbrak," Stan said, helping Eddie up.
"Holy shit," Eddie said, breathing heavily and looking at Stan, who was shaking. "You saved my life."
"Yeah, well," Stan said. Then, more quietly, so low that Eddie didn't think he was supposed to hear it, he said, "You saved mine first."
"We gotta save Richie," Eddie said, as It's yell pierced the air again. It was rounding on Mike and Ben on the other side of the cavern, and Richie still floated in mid-air.
"Hey!" Stan screamed, his voice echoing in the lair. Eddie's eyes widened and he grabbed Stan's arm. "You're not real, clowns are human and donât have spider legs, either youâre a human or a spider, make up your mind!"
Eddie watched in horrified shock as It began to shrink, spider legs pulling in toward its body. The others began to join in, yelling what seemed like nonsense to Eddie, who suddenly could only focus on Richie, collapsing to the floor.
He rushed to Richie's body, lying on the ground, and began to shake him.
"Clown! Clown! Clown!"
"Rich, wake up, man," he said, patting Richie's cheek. Richie groaned. "Yeah, hey, buddy, open your eyes!"
"Eds, wha-" His eyes widened as he took in Eddie's form. He grabbed tightly onto Eddie's right arm, staring at it in wonder. "Fuck, you're -"
"Come help us!" Ben's voice carried over to them. Eddie looked over to where their friends stood in a semi circle around It, now shriveled and small and not a clown at all. Eddie helped Richie to his feet and, feeling more powerful than he ever had in his life, squeezed It's heart until It was no more.
Richie saw Stan kill himself and Eddie losing his arm and dying in the deadlights and when theyâre out of the house he grabs Stanâs arms and looks at his wrists angrily and Stan realizes what it means and Richie asks âWhy didnât you do it?â
 âFirst I didnât remember⊠I was in the bathtub⊠I was⊠Ready. I could only remember promising Bill, the blood oath⊠But then I remembered Beverly saying she saw us all as adults⊠And I remembered that I had, too, when I was in the deadlights, and that Eddie was going to die. I knew â Somehow I just knew that if I killed myself Eddie would die, and if I came back he wouldnât. I could â I could end my own life, but I couldnât bring myself to end Eddieâs. So I came back.â
Do you have any fan fictions of t7s that really stand out to you and are super unique?
1. One More Time by CarouselUnique
Summary: Jessie Forman thought she knew a lot of things; who she could trust, who her parents were, even what was possible in the world around her. One snowy night, all three of these things change. Now, stuck back around 1978 - sheâs left in the worst situation possible to figure out where to go from there.
Rated: General
Comments: Just one chapter is up so far, but I read it tonight, and itâs great. Iâve been wanting a Back to the Future T7S fic for a few years, and now Iâm getting one. The protagonist is an OC teen of the T7S characters, but sheâs well-written -- as is the whole chapter. I care about her already (and Iâm not big on OCs in T7S fic, especially as the POV character). This one definitely deserves a read.
2. Choice of a Lifetime by heatherlea75.
Summary: Jackie is given the opportunity to choose her life and the love  of her life. Howâand whomâwill she choose? Takes place before Jackieâs  soul has been born into a body. She gets to see how her life will play  out with each choice: Fez, Kelso, and Hyde.
Rated: T
Comments: The concept is unique and executed really well. The  characterizations are deep, thereâs subtext a-plenty, and the story  definitely builds suspense. Choice of a Lifetime held my interest all the way through.
3. If You Ever Did Believe by nannygirl
Summary: The Formans -- and the group of friends who grew up in their basement -- are living their everyday lives in the new decade of the '80s until something happens that turns everyone's world upside down. Soon, it becomes Jackie's mission to help everyone, especially Red, mend broken bonds, get answers, and hopefully find peace again.
Rated: K+
Comments: The scenario in this story is supernatural, with a mixture of sadness and humor.
4. Heart Like Yours by PoetDameron
Summary: Jackie goes home to Point Place for Donna and Eric's wedding, but an accident and an unexpected experience may show her a reality she never thought was happening around her.
Rated: T
Comments: A T7S version of Gayle Formanâs If I Stay.
5. Drops of Jupiter by twentysevensecondsÂ
Summary: The year is 1984. Eric never returned from Africa â instead he wrote a bestselling novel about the friends and family he left behind. When he finally returns to Point Place, he finds that things are very different from how he left them.
Rated: T
Comments: A T7S version of October Road.
6. An Undercover Angel by Marla's LostÂ
Summary: Set three years after Eric returned from his Africa experience: Jackie disappeared - the group fell into disarray. What happened to them and why haven't the friends reached out for each other like they used to?
Rated: T
Comments: A Jackie/Eric story. Fans of mechanically-minded Jackie will enjoy this one.
7. Life As A House by kezztip
Summary: Jackie's uncle George invites her to spend the summer with him to help with a âspecial projectâ. She agrees, but she will get more than she bargained for when she finds out the real reason behind her uncle's invitation.
Rated: T
Comments: A T7S version of the movie Life As a House. The way Jackie meets Hyde is totally different than canon, and I really wish the author had finished this one.
8. Steven Who? by kezztip
Summary: Jackieâs world tumbles in on her when she realizes her relationship with Hyde is really over. She seeks to escape how awful her reality has become, and the method of that escape is pure Jackie. Set just after âMisfireâ (in season 8)
Rated: T
Comments: My favorite of the T7S-character-has-amnesia fics. This one is a fun read from start to finish.
9. That's My Baby by kezztipÂ
Summary: This is a J/H story with a twist. Instead of the wedding and baby being the happy ending, it's going to be the rocky start. All of you who love to watch Jackie out-zen Hyde will be on board with this one.
Rated: T
Comments: A fun, unique take on the Jackie-and-Hyde-get-married scenario.
10. The Secret of Katherine by heatherlea75
Summary: Jackie and Hyde are keeping a secret from their daughter, one they fear will hurt her. When someone decides to tell her that secret, will it destroy her relationship with her parents?
Rated: T
Comments: I wish the author had finished this one. She sets up quite the mystery. (But Donnaâs portrayal is not a positive one here.)
11. Frames by heatherlea75
Summary: Two decisions lead to devastating consequences. Can Jackie and Hyde fight and beat everything that has so far successfully kept them apart? Future J/H fic
Rated: T
Comments: The summary is, unfortunately, very vague, but this story is another unfinished mystery. It starts off with Hyde serving out a prison sentence for a crime he might not have committed.
12. Do You Think It's Alright? by gah-luvcali
Summary: Hyde goes crazy at the sight of Jackie in a wedding dress, but can they control their urges long enough to make it down the aisle?
Rated: M
Comments: This story is a total mind-screw (and very smutty), and it takes the characters (and the reader) to bizarre places.
13. The Little Drummer Girl by kezztipÂ
Summary: After Hyde rejects Jackie's advances, she decides to prove to him that she is no square and finds a more effective method than buying pot. Using a hidden skill no one knows she has, she becomes Hyde's most badass fantasy -- without him realizing it.
Rated: K+
Comments: Another unique plot. Jackie is very proactive in this story.
14. A Question of Intelligence by kezztipÂ
Summary: When Jackie finds pot may be the reason for Kelsoâs increasing stupidity, she convinces him to give it up. But how will it change her relationship with both Hyde and Kelso as he becomes smarter? Set in Season 7
Hello! Have you seen TROS yet? [Spoiler alert] I was really devastated by the ending - coming out the theater feeling upset and disappointed. Do you have any thoughts on it? Or maybe any plan to write fix-it fic? Thank you!
I am seeing it tomorrow. That said, Iâve read the plot summary, and no good execution can save that. So I was planning on posting this after I watched it with amendments made as I hope to enjoy it, but Iâll just post it now and amend this as necessary based on the film as I see it. (I still believe I will enjoy the film, even if I donât think itâs a good film. I do think that. I really do... I hope.)
BASED ON THE PLOT SUMMARIES ALONE (grains of salt everywhere!):Â
I think itâs technically⊠messy writing at best and downright bad writing in other parts.* 10/10 itâs a blockuster-y, JJ Abrams-esque, (hopefully) fun, messy narrative movie that will be forgotten in 0.3 seconds.
Disclaimer before everyone comes after me: if you like it, AWESOME. If you think itâs good writing, great! Good writing and bad writing are inherently subjective; that said, there are general consensuses among literary studies about what constitutes bad and good writing. Hence, Iâm relying on those consensuses when I call it messily written.
Before we get into specifics, Iâll compare it to two other major pop culture endings: Game of Thrones and Avengers: Endgame.
TROS is similar to the GoT final season in that it attempts to incorporate every aspect of fan speculation ever. However, itâs more like Endgame in that it is still somewhat true to the themes and charactersâbut unfortunately also like Endgame, it is not transformative or particularly interesting as a story on its own. In fact, itâs rather boring and honestly⊠bad storytelling. It tries to rehash Return of the Jedi but it doesnât succeed in any way because the world and the overall story has grown since the early 1980s, and so the same story doesnât work anymore.
Showing a cyclical story remaining cyclical with no sign of that breakingâinstead, the cycles are even reinforcedâdoes not give optimism nor does it give hope.
Redemption=death needs to die already. If we really want to reach people and tell them that the message is that you can always make a better choice (as Daisy Ridley and JJ Abrams have said about Kyloâs arc), maybe donât send the message in each and every story that you have to die to redeem yourself. Look outside of cultural secular Calvinism, for the love of God and the betterment of the world and stories as a whole.
Now letâs talk Reyâs parentage.
We know Rey Palpatine wasnât planned from the beginning (Trevorrow, the original write/director of IX, who was thankfully fired, said that he never planned for Palpatine to return), which means Reyâs parentage was most likely retconned from TLJ and there was no real plan for the sequel trilogyâs overall character arcs (save for Kyloâs, according to the actors and writers).
Listen to me. You donât have to have everything planned when you start a three-film saga, but you gotta know the major beats.
This is like a sad game of movie telephone.Â
Yes, I know the OT Star Wars didnât have a plan either and itâs like one of the only examples I can think of where no plan worked outâalbeit not without hiccups (Leia kissing Luke, anyone?) If you expect lightning to strike twice in the same place, Iâm sorry, but you are hopelessly naive.
Having Rey decide she wants to carry on the name Skywalker at the end is lame as shit. Itâs a way to appease fans while being like nah she still isnât related. Trying to please every fan is a sure way to guarantee that you will please no one. It might make for a perfectly pleasant film experience (I really hope it does), but not good, lasting storytelling (though not like, horrific either). Itâs meh. Itâs like⊠giving someone who is starving oatmeal. It will get the job done but will it satisfy and enthrall people? Not quite.
And letâs switch gears for a minute to Finn and Rose, my first and third favorite characters in this trilogy (Kylo is second, Rey is fourth). The sidelining of Rose is nothing short of a terrible attempt to please the white-supremacist-aligned Fandom Menace. Letâs not pretend itâs anything else. JJâs lipservice about how wonderful it was that Kelly was cast at SW Celebration is, in hindsight, absolutely nauseating.
Shame on JJ. Shame on Disney.
But the main problem I have with this film is this:
Why did it need to exist?
The answer is money. Obviously. I know, I know stories exist to make money. That doesnât mean I canât criticize the fact that the story was sacrificed on the unholy altar of capitalism and Disneyâs desire to own our souls. (Disneyâthe reason I like your movies is that a lot of them are good stories. Iâm not interested in pandering soooooo.)
The Rise of Skywalker does not enhance the Star Wars narrative. Nothing about this film satisfies the Skywalker Saga nor the sequel trilogy, and it kind of all comes down to Kylo Renâs death being the nail that sunk the entire world of Star Wars.
Keep in mind Kylo is not my favorite character when Iâm saying this. Finn is. But I never spoke about Finn as much because the story didnât utilize him properly. I never had concerns about Finn getting a happy ending while I was worried for Rey and Kyloâs arcs. (Finnâs arc, however, did have a ton more potential than was capitalized on; in particular, he would have been better if he was more conflicted over say, shooting other stormtroopers. His whole character humanized the usual red shirts, which when paired with Roseâs everywoman character, had so much potential I could shriek about it all day. That he didnât lead other brainwashed stormtroopers into rebellion and freedom saddens me. Also, his ending again seems to bring about a good victim/bad victim dichotomy when it is compared with Kyloâs. The reason these two are my faves is that they were brainwashed as kids which, well, I can kinda sorta heavily relate to.)
Kylo Ren and Reyâs relationship doesnât really get much better than it did in The Last Jedi. It actually rehashes that arc significantly. We already knew Kylo would fight for Rey and the galaxy, so⊠how was this different? Now, if he had lived, it would have been different, because it was the after the fight that proved that Kylo wasnât ready to redeem himself in The Last Jedi. It was Kyloâs choice to stay at the expense of Rey and the Resistance that was literally the set up for conflict in the next film. This⊠turned it into nothing? Their conflict is rehashed and then whoo-hoo! Easy way out! Kill him so that they donât have to deal with the âafterâ this time! They never have to deal with the conflict literally set up in The Last Jedi.
Thatâs bad writing, fam.
Life is infinitely more interesting. Leaving the story open with a living Skywalker instead of killing literally everyone involved with the Skywalkers except Rey who now adopts that name is⊠so unsatisfying I canât even. Even if later material shows him showing up as a Force Ghost, like: cool saw that with Vader so this⊠adds nothing to the existing films. It doesnât really reconcile anything.
It also⊠does not help the Rey=Mary Sue argument. She is NOT a Mary Sue, and that is a sexist term itself, but in no way is it a satisfying ending to her arc, because it isnât a well-written ending which means it isnât a well-written arc. The problem with Reyâs ending is a mirror of my problem with Kyloâs ending: itâs the very much a combination of her ending in The Last Jedi and her life before The Force Awakens.
She and Kylo are now separated (permanently this time).
Sheâs has her Resistance friends.
Sheâs alone on a desert planet.
But wait! Now sheâs now happy!
Uh, why? The only reason I can think of is that the narrative demands it. Because honestly, what changes? The family she choseâthe Skywalkersâare just as dead as her Palpatine birth family, soooooo. I suppose she reconciled with her heritage and come to peace with it and so thatâs why sheâs happy now, but⊠I canât lie. Itâs not hopeful. Itâs not optimistic. Itâs not Star Wars and it isnât consistent for the message (especially if this is supposed to be the ending to the saga!) to be both:
deciding to be a Skywalker means youâre at peace.
I can only assume Reyâs life will suck and then sheâll die, tbh, unless of course she is better off because of her blood⊠which negates the point of her being a Skywalker and is a really gross idea.
The Force created Anakin, remember? All filmsâeven the spin-offsâencourage our heroes to trust the force. âMay the force be with us.â But the Force created an ENTIRE FAMILY THAT LIVED LIVES THAT SUCKED AND MADE LIFE SUCK FOR EVERYONE AROUND THEM AND THEN THEY DIED.
May the Force stay far the f*ck away from me, amen.
But seriously I canât trust the world of a galaxy far far away or its narrative anymore. Itâs a contradiction that causes all nine films to unravel. Why?
Again, letâs return to my earlier GoT comparison, because there is one thing TROS does that is more similar to GoT than to Endgame: Endgame drew together a bunch of unique distinctly separate stories into a crossover. TROS, just like GoT, relied on cliffhanger, incomplete endings to its films and therefore the ending matters a hell of a lot more than a stand-alone story.
Game of Thrones remains the worst at a -100 out of 10. Itâs followed by Tokyo Ghoul:re which is still 2/10, and Star Wars is, on paper (meaning after I see it I am hoping it rises a few notches) now⊠4/10. Endgame is a solid 6.5/10.
Banana Fish, sweetie, Iâm sorry you were ranked down there. Your ending is a 7/10 but the rest of your story is like, 10/10 so you are sprung from this list.
Help me, Shingeki no Kyojin. Youâre my only hope.
The amazing @wyvernquill (also WyvernQuill on AO3) has claimed Ruby Sparks to adapt for Good Omens in the Good Omens Rom Com Event.
For reference, hereâs a little background about the source material!
About Ruby Sparks: Young author Calvin Weir-Fields (Paul Dano), once a literary darling, is having trouble composing his next novel. Following a therapist's advice, Calvin pulls out an old manual typewriter and creates a vivacious, flame-haired woman he dubs Ruby Sparks (Zoe Kazan). Overnight, Ruby leaps from the page into Calvin's home as a real flesh-and-blood woman. And, what's more, she's unaware that she's actually a fictional character and that her actions and feelings are dictated by whatever Calvin writes.
We spent some time chatting about how the adaptation is coming so far, as well as future plans for it! Now, get to know @wyvernquill a little better!
* * *
goromcom: Letâs begin with what Tumblr can tell me about you. You know how if you open a Tumblr chat with someone you haven't chatted to before, Tumblr tells you two things they post about? I wanted to tell you that yours reports that you post "about #fanart and #illustration". I really admire people who can draw *and* write. Do you enjoy one more than the other?
wyvernquill: Oh, don't ask me to choose between my brain-children! I love both for different reasons, and find some ideas are easier to express in writing, others through drawing; though I also love to combine the two by illustrating my fics or writing something based on some random thing I sketched during class.
(I'm also a very quick artist, while my fics tend to balloon out of proportion - so "doing a quick illustration in an hour" and "writing a 102k epic" are two very different and really rather incomparable experiences!)
goromcom: Oh goodness, yes. Two very different creative outlets! But for now, letâs talk about writing. You chose to adapt Ruby Sparks as your rom com. Has this movie been a favorite of yours, or is there some other reason you chose it?Â
wyvernquill: Cards on the table? I never heard of this movie before. I got very close to writing the fic without having seen it once, and only watched it a week or so ago. (And even then... it's not a *bad* movie, but, personally, I didn't grow attached to the characters at all. Just didn't really appeal to my tastes, I guess.)
So, why Ruby Sparks?
Well, I made a List, capital L for significance. In the 12 hours before claims, I researched the plots of every single movie up for claiming - most of which I never heard of, clearly I don't watch enough romcoms - and categorised them into "absolutely not" "mmmmmaybe?" and "possibly", making my way through IMDB short descriptions and Wikipedia pages until the List was down to the top 10; most of which were movies I'd seen or at least heard of - except Ruby Sparks, which I chose for the simple reason that I'd ALREADY written an "accidental" AU of it.
The premise was exactly the same as roughly 3k of unfinished Doctor Who fic I scribbled together and never published, even though I was quite fond of it. I figured I could re-use my favourite elements of that fic, work off the base premise rather than the movie itself, and see where writing takes me.
goromcom: That is quite a ride! Iâm a big proponent of re-introducing or recycling ideas or material that you find compelling but werenât quite able to use before! Itâs like, eco-awareness for your mind. :)
Given your history with this movie, this might be an odd question, but: What's your favorite moment of your movie, and are you looking forward to presenting it in your adaptation? Any loose plans for that scene that you can share?
wyvernquill: For reasons already outlined above, this isn't really based directly on any scene of the movie, but I think Aziraphale writing his idea of a "perfect husband" (and a progressively more thinly-veiled self-insert as the main character) will be a delight!
I greatly enjoy having the subjective perception of POV characters and objective reality be comically different - "I'm an excellent cook," he said, scraping the burned remnants of what could really no longer be called an omelette onto a plate - so I think I'll have some fun there. Maybe Aziraphale will defend his Artistic Vision (And Not Wish Fulfillment At All Shut Up) to someone? I'm not sure yet.
goromcom: I have a feeling I know the answer, but let me ask it anyway. Do you plan to stick very closely to the beats of the original story, or make bigger changes?
wyvernquill: Bigger changes, definitely. I might pluck an idea or two from the movie - and, surprisingly, the rough progression of events was pretty close to what I planned anyway - but it'll be rather different. (See next answer - I might well take more from Mary Shelley than from Ruby Sparks!)
Also, I'm still a bit undecided on this, but I might actually have Aziraphale publish some of his writing about Crowley from the start, something which doesn't happen in the movie until the very end.
goromcom: What's an interesting decision you've made in your planning so far--a notable casting decision, a changing of venue, or some other plan you have to paint Good Omens all over your rom com?
wyvernquill: Well, the moral of the movie was more or less that Writer Guy--no, I don't even remember his name!--has to overcome his controlling half-neurotic nature so he can be happy both among his more easy-going family and with the freespirited Ruby. Instead, I intend to have Aziraphale struggling a la Modern Prometheus (what does it mean to create life, to play God, to have a Creature that thinks for itself?), creating a subplot that is more overtly philosophical and thought-provoking, with a hint of religiosity - the essence of what GO is to me.(Meaning the final conflict will not be Writer Guy warping Ruby into a helpless parody of herself, but instead Aziraphale growing afraid of Crowley, who's beginning to show traits he never wrote for him, attempting to "erase" him again before he loses control entirely... but it all ends happily, don't worry! ;))
goromcom: Those are some pretty interesting ideas youâre playing with! Iâm looking forward to reading it. But letâs not give too much away, and move on to my last question. I am blatantly stealing this from The Good Place: The Podcast, but here goes: Tell me something "good". It can be something big or small. It can be a charity you think is doing good work, or you can talk about how great your pet is.
wyvernquill: Oh, the temptation to talk about my four darling cats is Real(tm)... but instead, I want to give a little shout-out to the absolutely fantasticamazingbrilliant teacher at my university who offered a course on fanfic and fandom studies this past term, and who is letting me write my term paper on the Ineffable Fandom!!!
She's the best, lots of fun to discuss with, and research for the paper - deadline in two weeks, I've not yet started writing it, let's hope I get it finished speedily! - is an absolute delight.
(The only difficulty will be staying within the page limit... there's just so much to write about with this wonderful fandom.)
Her course was the highlight of my week, and fan studies (unsurprisingly!) turned out to be a field that really interests me. So thank you so much, Ms Fanfic Teacher, I'm very grateful for... just about everything!!! ^-^ <3
goromcom:Â That sounds like a fantastic class and an even better teacher. You have to admire the people who go that extra mile to inspire and lift up their students, and get them actually excited about learning.
And you know what else is going to be fantastic? The GO adaptation of Ruby Sparks, coming soon!
The Best Fanfiction of the Decade (as curated by one idiot)
Hi Friends.Â
While I donât advertise it on here much, I have been a dedicated reader and review of fanfiction for the last 15+ years. While I mostly stick to Harry Potter, I do branch out occasionally for outstanding works. So in the spirit of everyoneâs âBest of the Decadeâ lists, Iâve put together my favorite 15 of the last 10 years. This is not representative of all fandoms, and Iâm sure thereâs some outstanding ones Iâve missed. Please donât hesitate to tell me about any Iâd enjoy or are particularly good. Otherwise, enjoy!
15. Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality
Iâm adding Methods of Rationality to this list not because it is one of my favorites. Itâs not. The writing, while decent, is pedantic, condescending, and messy. The plot takes second-fiddle to Less Wrongâs desire to lord his intelligence over the reader. BUT. This story was one of the most influential pieces of fanfiction over the last decade. It helped bring the medium from a niche little corner of the internet into more of a mainstream idea. I just wish it had been any other story on this list. Â
14. The Queen Who Fell to Earth
I hesitated to add this, but Bob and Alyx were a pair who helped introduce me to the wider world of fanfiction and writing back in the day. This is a Harry Potter/Dragonriders of Pern crossover that spanned 2 fully complete stories and 1 incomplete. Bob fell ill and passed away before the 3rd story could be completed, but what exists is fascinating worldbuilding and attempting to answer the question: âWhat is a person?â
13. Pokemon: Origin of Species
I hesitated including this story on my list, as it is incomplete and can get heavily conceptual and aggrandizing, but honestly? The chapters where Zapdos attacks Vermillion is some of the best writing Iâve found on the internet in a while. Thrilling, heartbreaking, the author was so descriptive that I found myself fervently awaiting the next chapter every month. Inspired by the story âHarry Potter and the Methods of Rationality,â but set in the Pokemon-verse.
12. Triumvirate
A realistic Pokemon story, this puts some heavy stakes on Red, Blue, and Greenâs journey through Kanto. Renaerys knows how to write fight scenes across all of the fandoms they frequent (thereâs a deliciously Violent Miraculous Ladybug fic they completed a little while back that did good things for me).Â
11. The Broken Series
The Dresden Files is my favorite series non-Potter, and this short 5 story fanfiction series brings Dresden to a satisfying-ish conclusion. The writing is extremely in the style of Butcher, and filled the gap between Skin Game and Peace Talks for me nicely.
10. Traveler
A pokemon fic currently clocking in at over 1 Million Words (and still going), the Kanto arc of this story is one of my favorites so far. Starting out a little fast and a little weak, the author really hits their stride about 7 or 8 chapters in, and the rest of the story truly slaps. Deals heavily with the Legendaries and their effects on the world, while drawing from canon enough to keep the story familiar and interesting. Currently in the middle of a delightful Johto arc, and infrequently updated.Â
9. Back to Us
The only Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction youâll find on my list (despite me binging it like crazy recently). Adrien and Marinette are aged up 7 years after the defeat of Hawkmoth, and the story deals with them reconnecting and dealing with a new villain. Definitely an adult story, I enjoyed the hell out of the character interactions and the fight sequences.
8. The One He Feared
Taure is a masterful author and dedicated adapter of the Harry Potter universe to play with as his own. This short 4 chapter story is no exception. Harry obtains Albus Dumbledoreâs memories, abilities, and magical talent from before Albus captured the Elder Wand, and uses these to take the fight to Voldemort. Incomplete (and probably never finished), the 4 chapters encompass a pretty good first arc of the story, enough for it to live here in the top 10 of my list.
7. The Shadow of Angmar
Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings crossover, where Harry is pulled by the Witch-King into Middle-Earth, and spends years being tortured by him before being freed during the Fall of Angmar. From there, Harry must travel Middle-Earth, trying to find a way to adapt their magic to his own. Steelbadger manages to capture Tolkienâs writing style fairly well, mixing him, JKR, and his own style.
6. Incorruptible: The Dementorâs Stigma
A Harry Potter Zombie story with some of the best action sequences in the business. This story elevates dementors from scary to truly terrifying, in that they are the source of a Zombie plague that has wrecked the world. If you ever wondered how magic users would deal with a Zombie Apocalypse, this is by far the best one (the scenes of the plagueâs origin in Saint Mungoâs are ESPECIALLY good)
5. Renegade Cause
I spent this entire story saying âHoly Shit? Holy Shit? Holy Shit?â Harry doesnât receive Siriusâs letter telling him to stay put after the Dementor attack, maiming and killing several aurors in his escape attempt, and things to TERRIBLY sideways from there. There is political drama in this story that is unmatched in almost any other writing Iâve found. (TW: there is a rape scene late in the story, which occurs mostly off-screen but was still super disturbing).
4. Seventh Horcrux
You want some humor? Here, amidst all the drama and despair and morbid writing, is one of the funniest stories Iâve ever read. Voldemort, while evil, is hilarious. He is thrust into Harryâs 1 year old body during the murder attempt, with all of his memories intact. What ensues is mayhem, humor, and Harry!mort attempting to not be evil. Sticks fairly true to canon personalities, minus Harry. Great Story. Great ending. It holds up.
3. A Long Journey Home
A Harry Potter genderbend, post defeat of Voldemort. On a tomb raid with Bill, Jasmine (Harry as a woman), is suddenly thrust back 1000s of years into Ancient Egypt. While this would normally be an ordeal to read, the author does something immensely clever and brings Jasmine back into the story immediately, alternating chapters between Jasmine adjusting to life after thousands of years of being alone, and Jasmineâs journey through history (the Merlin/Morgana chapters are especially enjoyable). Unfinished, and hasnât been updated in 2 years, it is a GREAT story that stands well even though itâs incomplete.
2. The Game of Champions
Deleted by the author and unfinished, this remains the best adaptation of the Pokemon universe I have ever seen. Red and Blue are amazing protags, and the style of writing and the concepts introduced regarding Titan-class Pokemon, violence in the universe, and the plotline of the original games. The author came out of retirement at the desperate pleading of their fans to write up short summaries of what the rest of the story would be and LORD I wish theyâd finished the story (ask me for where the rest is).
1. Harry Potter and the Wastelands of Time
It was tough choosing between this and The Game of Champions, but I went with Wastelands because itâs complete. A masterpiece of AU fanfiction. Harry is a Time Traveler, but instead of a single journey to the past, itâs a Groundhog Day type repetition, but without the fun and with more blood and screaming and sadness and madness and magnificent writing. While begun in 2008, it was finished in 2010, which means Iâm still going to include it on this list. Itâs my favorite to this day, and has a sequel, Harry Potter and the Heartlands of Time, which took FOREVER to finish and ended mildly disappointingly. But the author, Joe, moved into published novels, and can be excused. Sorta.
whatâs your favorite type of thing to write? dialogue, action, gettinâ down, exposition, a very specific thing not listed here?
Edit: I think youâd enjoy knowing that when I asked @n7zachammer what he thought my answer would be, before I even finished the question he said, âLongform pain fic.â
(heâsâŠnot wrong? But.)
D-I-A-L-O-G-U-EÂ
(I had to check the spelling of that 3 times.)Â
There are lots of things I love to write, but dialogue is still my bread and butter. I like to think I have a good rhythm and cadence for it. One of the exercises my creative writing mentor always made us do was go out and record actual conversations, then transcribe them. You know what it taught me? People are messy, and barely intelligible. Of course we canât write the way people speak, because weâd have NO idea what characters were talking about. Ever.Â
But it is important for that dialogue to feel like something real people would say. Dialogue tells you so much about a character, from their cadence to their word choices and so on. Do your characters sound different enough that a reader can pick out whoâs speaking without a tag? (Brian Jacques has always been my favorite example of this.) When it comes to fanfic, do your readers hear your dialogue in the characterâs voice?Â
Even more fun is overlaying actual dialogue with inner dialogue. Whatâs happening externally and internally can be gloriously different and fun to play with, and it can do all kinds of things for threading, plot, etc.Â
I still think the best dialogue I have ever written is for an unfinished wedding!fic that is not on Ao3, because I donât like putting unfinished stuff there. I have always sworn I would finish it, because itâs genuinely some of the best writing I have ever done. Iâm in a headspace now that maybe I *could*, so if someone wants to bug me to finish it, PLEASE. BUG ME.Â
Anyway, hereâs that dialogue: [Edit, wow, the formatting on this post exploded. I have fixed it now]
For someone who hates water, Garrus is really fucking good at skipping rocks. Obnoxiously good. To the point where Shepard cheats and uses a flick of dark energy to send his own stone sailing out past the fading ripples from the turianâs last throw. Â
âYouâre still not over that shot on the Citadel, are you?â he asks. Â
Shepard shrugs, and hefts another stone. âI like to win.âÂ
Garrus chuckles. âWhich is why I had my money on you when it came to who would propose, and most everyone else had money on Kaidan.âÂ
âReally?â Shepard asks before reaching back and letting it fly. Without the biotic assistance, he manages two skips before the plop. Â
âThey all figured Kaidan for the âmake it officialâ type,â Garrus says, rolling a stone in his talons. âBut I know you. If Kaidan asks you first, in your screwed up head it means he loves you more.âÂ
Shepard could deny it. But with Garrus there isnât much point. âI have a weird head, donât I?âÂ
The turian flicks the stone. âNot to mention the fact Iâm pretty sure you want to make it illegal for anyone else to get their hands on the person you saved the galaxy for.âÂ
Six fucking jumps, how the fuck did he do that? Â
âCâmon, Garrus. I saved the galaxy for you. You know that.â Â
âWell, of course I know that. But I figured you wanted to keep that just between us.â Â
âHa.âÂ
Shepardâs turn.Â
âThough I have to say,â Garrus muses as Shepard winds up for another throw, blue sparks erupting around his fingers, âI like to think Iâm largely responsible for keeping you alive long enough to save that galaxy.â  Â
Shepard looses the stone. This one makes seven jumps before squelching beneath the surface, and he smirks with satisfaction. Itâs all in the wrist.Â
âSpeaking of that.âÂ
âOh, boy.â Â
The corner of Shepardâs lip quirks in a grin. âRelax, big guy. Look, I donât know how turians do it, but humans like to make a big production out of marriage ceremonies. You have to find people to take on certain duties.âÂ
Garrus holds up another stone. Shepard bets heâs using his damn visor to scan it somehow. That must be his secret. Bastard. No chance heâs going to feel bad about using the biotics now. Â
âShepard, are you asking me to work at your wedding? That hurts.â Â
Shepard raises an eyebrow. âDo you want to stand there and complain or let me finish?â Â
âWhat Iâd like it to get this rock to that post out there. I donât know what the post is supposed to be for, but Iâm using it to set life goals.âÂ
âNo chance.âÂ
âWatch me.â Â
Garrus steps back, squints, then lets it fly. Â
Motherfucker. Shepard scours the ground for a new stone. Â
âIâm sorry, what were you saying, Shepard?âÂ
âIâm going to rip that visor off your head and throw it in the lake, thatâs what I was saying.âÂ
Garrusâ subharmonics thrum with laughter. Two lackluster throws later, Shepard checks his amp settings. Â
âOkay, so human weddings,â Garrus continues. âAssuming your inability to throw rocks hasnât changed your mind about whatever you were asking.âÂ
Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.
Word Count: 3140
Warnings:
Note: This is by far the longest thing Iâve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93 what was first a simple âwhat ifâ moment turned into a two year writing session and Iâve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.
The following morning you couldnât wait to talk to Shannon so you opened up the tablet, clicked the video chat app, and chose your only contact. For some people, one contact might seem lonely, but for you, that one contact was all you needed.Â
She accepted the call and her stunning face lit up the window as you pulled your coffee close to your lips.Â
âMorning, Y/N,â she greeted, pouring her own coffee, a tired look on her face.Â
âMorning, hun.â You waved to her. âAny big plans for the day?â you wondered.Â
âKinda,â she answered after swallowing some coffee.Â
You perked an eyebrow up. âOh? Iâm intrigued. Whatâs on the agenda?â
âHoping to finish creating that surprise for you two,â she informed.Â
You frowned at her, confused. âI thought the tablet was my surprise?âÂ
She smiled widely and giggled. âNope, thatâs for us to chat. But thereâs this research Iâve been doing for a few months now but still no result. I feel like Iâm missing something.âÂ
âWhat research?â you blurted out, not able to resist asking.Â
âItâs got to do with the genetic mutation in identical twins,â she informed. âHere. If you go to your office, you can project my notes and data from the camera thatâs set up there. Just double tap the screen when you get there.â
You nodded and took your coffee and tablet to the office in the adjoining room, while she sent the files down to your cell.Â
âEverything is there. Iâm just having trouble identifying how it is that one of the two ends up with a mutation while the other doesnât,â she commented, sounding frustrated.Â
âHave you listened to Bach?â you asked, knowing that every time she listened to him, it jogged her mind.Â
She stared at you through the tablet and deadpanned, âWhat do you think?âÂ
You laughed and held your hands up âOkay, okay. Fraternal or maternal twins? Raised in the same environment? What are Tonyâs thoughts? Bannerâs? They have a lot of experience with mutation⊠Did you call Charles?â
âDepends on the case. I have a few sets that are paternal and some there is a turn off, but they have the opposite effect with the mutations from each side. Tony doesnât know. He is not really aware of what happened. Banner⊠he can help with just a small amount. The thing with the experience on mutation is that you know Bruce and becoming the Hulk but thereâs not much you can get out of it because even his own studies have led to very little.â She began to read in her ledgers. âSpeaking of, Iâm actually Iâm going to contact Charles later today. Hopefully heâs not that busy, and neither is Logan, and they can probably run some tests, figure out some stuff. Probably hit the ring to see what triggers some of my powers.â
Your face fell a little bit, remembering how you used to visit Charles with her. It made you miss him and all of the X-Men⊠âOh, are your powers⊠bad? I mean.. Like, you havenât consulted Charles in a long time,â you noted.Â
She glanced over to the screen, noticing the change in your tone.Â
âIf you donât want to tell me, thatâs fine. Itâs not really any of my business if you powers arenât going quite right,â you stated, laughing somewhat nervously, a pang of guilt hitting your gut.Â
âDonât worry, Y/N. Itâs not that theyâre bad. Itâs just⊠theyâre changing. I used to take peopleâs powers temporarily, but now, I can store them. And the shapeshifting and the flying. Iâm rapidly mutating and Iâm not sure whatâs causing itâŠâ
You nodded, listening to her, worried for her, and angry that you were locked in a cell with no way to help her.Â
âY/N⊠do you remember that one kid at the mansion who would feed off people's emotions and it became what he felt?â she asked, looking at you, hoping you remembered.Â
Sadly, you didnât, so you shook your head. âNo, who was that?âÂ
âI canât remember his name, but he had bumped into me one of those few times I went to train. And it seems I absorbed some of his powers and that what might be messing me up. It used to be very subtle, but now⊠now I can hardly get through an emotional event without it draining on me. Like when Steve had to carry me out,â she reminded.Â
âYou think itâs damaging you,â you said, summarizing for her.Â
âI think it is,â she agreed. âIf itâs emotionally strong, positive or negative, I just⊠The fight I had with Tony?â
âYeah?âÂ
âI was so mad at what he was saying I hadnât realized my weather powers had triggered and mixed with the laser beams I took from Cyclops and it mixed with your purple energy and things were thrown at Tony when I yelled at him. Thankfully one of his suits was there or I might have hurt him.â
You muttered, âI know what thatâs like.âÂ
Shannon stopped what she was doing and put down her pen, giving you her full attention. âWhat do you mean you know what itâs like?â A moment later she added, âIf youâre comfortable telling me, that is.â
âEver since Thanos put this--â You showed your purple dark energy and then made it disappear â--inside me, itâs turned me into someone else⊠I was so angry all the time, at everything. Itâs much better now, but I still get so much rage.â You looked up at the camera, facing her. âSo I know what itâs like to not quite know whatâs happening to your body⊠To have this⊠power⊠but it destroys you.âÂ
âIt does. Iâve noticed I canât keep up during training with Nat. Both of us being a part of the Red Room, weâve kept to training like they taught us, but Iâm just not as fast as I used to be.â She shrugged and looked a bit sullen. âItâs all still here,â she noted, pointing at her head with her pen. âItâs just that this is giving me trouble.â She closed her eyes, and then opened them, revealing milky red eyes with purple swirls.Â
âI canât imagine how hard it is for you,â you commented. âTo hold all those powers and finding out how to use them and keep them in check.â
âAt least it hasnât taken over⊠yet,â she remarked, staring down at her hands.Â
âIt wonât. Youâre too strong for that,â you assured.Â
Shannon smiled a small bit, glancing up to look at you through the screen, trying to find solace in your words.Â
âI was hoping to see if I can get you out of there so that you can come with me to the mansion and we can both figure out whatâs going on with our powers?â She sighed and reminded, âOf course, Iâll have to talk to Fury about it.â A groan escaped her just thinking about it, and you smiled slightly, remembering how much she did not like negotiating with the SHIELD director.Â
Your face list up a million degrees. âYou would really see about that?âÂ
âOf course. I want us to be able to get the help we need. We shouldnât have to suffer at the hands of these powers.â
âIâm sort of public enemy number one. Not sure the world is ready for me to be outâŠâ A deep frown followed your statement that didnât go unnoticed by your friend.Â
She lifted an eyebrow. âWell⊠technically, the world doesnât know it was you. You know Charles, heâd probably help get you to the mansion without being seen, just to help you.â
A sly smile played on your lips. âAre you suggesting Nightcrawler break me out?â you teased.Â
Shannon couldnât help but start laughing jovially at your comment. âHeâd probably have a blast getting out of there! That kid loves scaring Tony.â
You were so overwhelmed with the prospect of getting out, even if it was just for a few hours, that you had almost forgot about your fellow cellmate. Saness colored your face and tone. âI donât know if I should Leave Loki though⊠That doesnât seem⊠fair that I should get a day passâŠâ You glanced back toward your bedroom, a guilty look on your face.Â
Shannon understood where you were coming from, so she offered, âI mean, itâs only if you want to. Besides, itâs not like weâre going out to shop. Itâs to help you progress and reinstate yourself to the world.â
You bit your lip, noticing the wording. Reinstate yourself to the world⊠Right.. Because you were in prison.Â
âNot to make that sound like youâre a felon!â she loudly corrected, turning back to the screen with a look of embarrassment.Â
You waved it off. It wasnât her fault you were in the situation you were in.Â
âLet me talk to Loki?â you requested with raised eyebrows. âBut I would love to see everyone again, and figure out how to get⊠this side of me out.âÂ
âOf course! Take whatever time you need. Iâm not sure when Iâll be able to contact Charles, so let me know whenever youâve made a decision.â
âI will. Thank you, Shannon. In the meantime, do you have anything physics related I can study? I am going bonkers down hereâŠâ You paused for a moment, before asking, âDoes Tony mind you talking to me? Or sharing data? I mean, heâs still pissed at me⊠right?âÂ
This time, it was her turn to wave you off. âForget Tony, heâs my problem, not yours.â She looked at you and smiled. âI could get you whatever Janeâs left unfinished? There are a few new things she got here.â She pointed to a stack of files on the nearby desk.Â
âPlease, send me anything, otherwise this gold mine is going to rot,â you joked, pointing to your head.Â
âWell we canât have that now, can we?â She giggled before talking to JARVIS. âJARVIS, send whatever files are in our system from Janeâs recent studies down to Y/Nâs office.â
âRight away, Ms. Shannon. Is there anything else?â
âLet me know when Fury will be coming by the Tower or the complex, please?âÂ
âYes, Ms. Shannon.â
âThe files should be ready for you to look through, now. Iâll make sure any new data gets sent to you too.â Meanwhile, she was nodding her head while looking at the holographic data in front of her, swiping it to and fro.Â
âIâll let you get back to your work,â you offered, trying to hide the sadness in your voice. But her work and research was more important than keeping a prisoner like you company.Â
She hummed. âHmm? Oh, yeah, sorry. I just have a deadline for this and--â
âShan, itâs fine,â you assured genuinely with a soft smile.Â
She seemed to be relieved by your words. âOkay, Iâll talk to you later, okay? Donât forget to talk to Loki and let me know?â
âIâll let you know by the end of the day.â
âThanks. Talk to you soon.â
The call ended.Â
But no part of you could even be sad, for this had been the best gift youâd gotten in some time. Other than being allowed to share a cell with Loki, this was the next best thing.
-----------------------------
Loki was still asleep during your conversation with Shannon, but when he woke up and you made him a nice brunch, you decided to dive right into the touchy subject of you getting a day pass, and not him.Â
âUh, Loki,â you started as he ate his meal.Â
âYes, darling?â he asked, glancing up to you.Â
You wrung your hands, knowing how this sounded. That you would be leaving Loki behind, that you were gaining freedom and he wasnât. That you were not, in fact, equals, as you had said youâd been. As you always tried to prove to him.Â
âShannon.. She has an ideaâŠâ
âIs it an idea to break out of this?â he asked, pointing around with his eyes.Â
âWell⊠actually⊠kind of.âÂ
He peered at you with a curious frown.Â
âI told her about my powers, about how the thing Thanos pout in me is dark and it wears on meâŠâÂ
âYes?âÂ
âWell⊠sheâs going to Charles Xavier to get her powers looked at. It seems she has a mutation thatâs causing her issues⊠And she said she might be able to get me a pass to sort of⊠go with her,â you informed nervously. You were so worried Loki would simply see this as a way of you gaining freedom, while he stayed behind. Or that you were somehow distancing yourself from him.Â
âSo you would get to leave?â he clarified.Â
âYes. Sheâs going to talk to Fury, and see if itâs even possible. Itâs more like a trip to the doctor. Iâll be going to see if he can do anything about the power not being soâŠâ
âEvil?âÂ
Your gaze slid to his as you nodded.
âMy love, if you need to go, go. It will be nice for at least one of us to leave this cell, even if itâs just for a day.â
âReally?â you asked, hope swelling inside you.
âYes, of course. Go, do whatever you need. Iâll be here when you get back,â he said with a sly smile and you couldnât help but round the kitchen island and hug him tightly.Â
-----------------------
As Shannon closed down her work and research for the day, she stepped out of the lab, somewhat exhausted, but simultaneously refreshed. It was amazing how just talking to you had lifted her spirit so much. She had only made it a few steps when Tony came up and greeted her.Â
âHey, babe. Mind walking with me?â he asked.
âUgh, Tony, Iâm so tired... I think I just want to go sit and read for a little bit,â she said, hoping she wouldnât offend him.Â
âThatâs fine, I just thought we could have a quick bite together?â he wondered, his eyebrows perched up,wanting to guilt her in with his innocent, irresistible look.Â
She rolled her eyes and smiled. âAlright, alright. Yeah, letâs go grab a bite. What did you have in mind?â she asked as he led her down the hall toward the kitchen and dining area.Â
As soon as the two of them rounded the corner, she was greeted with the Avengers and some other colleagues from around the tower. The people sheâd hidden herself away from for the last several days.
âSurprise!â the group yelled.Â
âWhatâs all this?â she asked, befuddled, a warm grin on her face.Â
âWe noticed you looked a little down,â Clint noted.Â
âAnd you just got back,â Bruce added.Â
âSo they thought it would be nice to have a little welcome home dinner. Nothing fancy, just⊠the tower isnât the same without you, babe,â Tony said, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.
âOh, you shouldnât have,â she said with a humble, sweet smile.Â
âNonsense!â Steve objected as Tony let go of her and Steveâs arm replaced it. âYou deserve it. We all missed you.âÂ
âWell, thank you, all of you. I missed you too.â
---------------------------
Sometime later that evening, you called Shannon on the video chat. The AI found her closest device and opened up, displaying where she was.Â
âHey, Sha--â Was all you got out before you saw what was going on around her. It appeared to be a small party. Shannon had a drink in her hand, as did all the Avengers and a few other people you didnât recognize. She was laughing and hitting Natâs arm, while Tony and Clint were smiling and talking. Bruce seemed to be having a good time with the strangers, talking.Â
At first, you were happy, a smile pulling at your lips, but just as you were about to join in, you realized -- you couldnât. You couldnât open your mouth and tell a joke, you couldnât say anything to anyone⊠Because you were locked away, several floors below them, paying for your crime. Even if you did try to blend in, even if you did try to get anyoneâs attention, you would be met with a resounding âfuck offâ. Who knew what kind of pandemonium wouldâve erupted if they knew you were contacting them.Â
With a sad sigh, you swiped over to the texting app and sent Shannon a text, telling her that you were good to go.
You switched back to the video app, where Shannon pulled out her phone, smiled at it, typed a quick response, and pocketed it again.Â
âSounds good. Iâll talk to Fury,â she sent back.
Your face fell and you were about to close the app when you noticed Steve Rogers was looking at you. It seemed he had just glanced up. Your eyes met but you didnât have it in you to try and smile to be polite. Steve gazed at you, and if you werenât mistaken, you saw⊠sympathy in his eyes, in his slight frown. He gave you a tiny nod, and you returned it before your gaze dropped.Â
Unable to bear the sadness, and downright pity for yourself, you closed the video app. Steve looked away, feeling sorry for you, but tried to get back to the party.Â
Sulking, you closed the tablet and left it on the coffee table to get up and go to bed.Â
Loki peered up at you from his magazine, a worried frown etched into his stunning features. âDarling?âÂ
âHmm?â you hummed.
âIs everything alright? I thought you were going to call Shannon?âÂ
You turned slowly to face him. âUh, I did. She was busy so⊠I'll catch up with her tomorrow,â you said, hoping to hide your disappointment.Â
âAre you sure? You seem upset,â he commented as he stood and came over to you, putting his hands on your arms.Â
âIâm fine,â you lied.Â
He peered down at you with peculiarity. âIf youâre not fine, you know you can tell me. If you donât want to talk about it, Iâll understand.â
You smiled up at him, loving that you could tell him anything. âAlright, thatâs fair. I'm not fine, but I donât feel like talking about it.âÂ
He smiled. âThere we are.â He kissed your forehead. âIâm here if you need me.â
âI know,â you assured before leaning up to kiss him earnestly, but quickly. âThank you. I just want to go to bed for now. Iâll let you know if I feel like talking.â
âGoodnight, darling. Iâll be in shortly,â he promised with warmth. He let go of you and you nodded slightly before heading to bed and curling up in your bed. The bed you lived in for the last several months⊠the bed you would probably live the rest of your life in.Â
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