Telling (1/2)
I wrote this fanfiction ages ago, and I'd love some people to read it, since I'm pretty sure practically no one ever has. This is part 1, I'll post part 2 later on. It's for The Brittas Empire, set before the series. It's also very short. I'd really really like to improve it somehow, though it's definitely not the worst thing I've ever written or something, I'm just a perfectionist. I realise that most people here would never have seen it. Just bear in mind that Tim and Gavin (guys in my avatar, Gavin is on the left, Tim on the right) are canonically gay, and a very dedicated couple. Gavin is older than Tim by a few years but we're not sure by how many. And Tim is very dramatic. Also, don't take the story too seriously please.
Responses and constructive criticisms hugely welcome.
Author:
longlongwaytogo
Title: Telling
Fandom: The Brittas Empire
Length: 1,600 words in total.
Warnings: None. Unless you feel that canon homosexuality should be warned for.
Summary: In this, Tim is in his late teens, and he is terrified of doing something.
Rating: PG for implied themes?
He gripped the quilt instinctively, trying to stop the desperate quivering in his fingers. He gripped with white-knuckled, palm-piercing urgency, as if it would save him from this feeling. His fingers could no longer move, so his shoulders took up the cause.
Get a hold of yourself. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
Yet.
He closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. ‘Think of something nice’ he commanded to his brain.
He took a few deep breaths.
His heart still fluttered like a hummingbird, as if it would burst from his chest and fly away from him. A hummingbird that would spurt blood all over his room, leaving him to die on the floor, alone.
He took another shuddering breath. Just do it.
I have to do this to get what I want.
He imagined his mother’s surprised face, her disapproval, and her worrying about him, his intentions and his future. His very survival, even. Oh God.
He let go of the quilt, and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at it, before flopping over backwards on the bed and curling himself up in a ball. He reached out and picked up one of his childhood teddy bears, hugging it close to his chest. The changes this would bring to his life. To his Mum’s life. Would he be able to cope? She had always said she’d help him, no matter what. He guessed that she’d suspected and anticipated this for a while now. He’d been dropping hints. Sometimes by accident. He’d been asking questions, testing the water. But actually telling her… perhaps it was a little early. The possible reactions still scared him. He scared him. He was afraid of all the things he’d leave behind, and all the new things he’d have to face. The start of something new. The end of all that was familiar.
And she might get upset. I can’t do it. She loves me too much. I’ll do it in a few years, when I’m more prepared. And I’m not even sure.
“Yes you are” an internal voice told him.
“No. I’m not,” he whispered to the bear. He turned his head and looked over at himself in the mirror on the wardrobe. His hair was erratic and his eyes wide and full of tears. He looked like a child. He felt like a child. He looked at himself for a long time, not moving.
The only sound was his shuddering breaths and the clock ticking on the wall.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
The passing of time. The passing of opportunities. The last few seconds of life as he knew it.
Responses and constructive criticisms hugely welcome.
Author:
longlongwaytogo
Title: Telling
Fandom: The Brittas Empire
Length: 1,600 words in total.
Warnings: None. Unless you feel that canon homosexuality should be warned for.
Summary: In this, Tim is in his late teens, and he is terrified of doing something.
Rating: PG for implied themes?
He gripped the quilt instinctively, trying to stop the desperate quivering in his fingers. He gripped with white-knuckled, palm-piercing urgency, as if it would save him from this feeling. His fingers could no longer move, so his shoulders took up the cause.
Get a hold of yourself. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
Yet.
He closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. ‘Think of something nice’ he commanded to his brain.
He took a few deep breaths.
His heart still fluttered like a hummingbird, as if it would burst from his chest and fly away from him. A hummingbird that would spurt blood all over his room, leaving him to die on the floor, alone.
He took another shuddering breath. Just do it.
I have to do this to get what I want.
He imagined his mother’s surprised face, her disapproval, and her worrying about him, his intentions and his future. His very survival, even. Oh God.
He let go of the quilt, and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at it, before flopping over backwards on the bed and curling himself up in a ball. He reached out and picked up one of his childhood teddy bears, hugging it close to his chest. The changes this would bring to his life. To his Mum’s life. Would he be able to cope? She had always said she’d help him, no matter what. He guessed that she’d suspected and anticipated this for a while now. He’d been dropping hints. Sometimes by accident. He’d been asking questions, testing the water. But actually telling her… perhaps it was a little early. The possible reactions still scared him. He scared him. He was afraid of all the things he’d leave behind, and all the new things he’d have to face. The start of something new. The end of all that was familiar.
And she might get upset. I can’t do it. She loves me too much. I’ll do it in a few years, when I’m more prepared. And I’m not even sure.
“Yes you are” an internal voice told him.
“No. I’m not,” he whispered to the bear. He turned his head and looked over at himself in the mirror on the wardrobe. His hair was erratic and his eyes wide and full of tears. He looked like a child. He felt like a child. He looked at himself for a long time, not moving.
The only sound was his shuddering breaths and the clock ticking on the wall.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
The passing of time. The passing of opportunities. The last few seconds of life as he knew it.