Bop Its Neo
Arber
Hi!
I'm looking for a Jefferson to do a Heaven/Hell AU with me.
I can be lit, semi-lit, advanced, really anything; though I prefer going full detail and in-depth with what I write. More often than not, I bounce off of my partner's writing style. The one thing I'll refuse to do is one-liners, and I'd prefer if my partners don't do one-liners, either.
TW: Religion, heaven, hell, demons, angels, god, satan, the seven deadly sins, and swearing
(This one was actually inspired by a prompt! - "Prompt: Character A is an angel and Character B is a demon. However, Character A is mischievous, manipulative, and happily causes harm instead of doing good whereas Character B is kind-hearted, well-meaning, and merciful. Character A approaches Character B one day, thinking the demon to be a like-minded individual, however, Character A is forced to reconsider their own wrong-doings when they begin to develop a soft spot for Character B." Hamilton is Character B, as Jefferson is Character A.
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Alexander knew he was going to hell. He wasn't going to sit there and pretend that he wasn't. He wished he could, in all honesty. He wished he could forget that death was even a thing, and just live life. he wished it didn't loom over his shoulder like a shadow of a man in front of him, him remembering it so much it felt more like a memory than a distant future. But, really, forgetting is far more difficult than remembering. He's lived his entire life with his legacy on his mind, of course he's going to imagine his death. What are people going to think of him when he was gone? It was what motivated him when his father left, when his mother died, when his cousin had taken his own life. He needed to keep working. He needed to build himself up as more than he already was. He needed to give himself a name, a story. He couldn't make himself forgettable.
Dying and being forgotten was worse than being alive and getting more attention than he wanted.
Honestly, it was impossible for there to be a single deadly sin he hasn't committed. He could list every single deadly sin, every seven of them, and tell you just how he had committed it. Which, he will do. Right now. Lust, wasn't that one obvious? He cheated on his wife with a certain Maria Reynolds, not once, not twice, but multiple times. And with a now existing generation of people, somehow still aware of his name and claim to fame, writing up theories about how he may have slept with his close friend John Laurens, or eventual enemy Aaron Burr? Well, his memory didn't fail him, he knew he hadn't - but even still, their words were so.. Convincing. He found himself believing despite knowing the exact opposite.
Secondly. Gluttony. This one took him a while to conjure, but he was sure he had committed it. It had nothing to do with food, trust him. While he had no specific distaste for eating, or what he ate, he didn't bother eating more than he needed or eating less healthy food. Then again, he didn't really eat healthy food, either. If he ever remembered to eat between work hours, it would be a sort of microwavable meal that would somehow suffice a week-long hunger. No, it wasn't food. It was for a sort of.. Power. He was a glutton for knowledge. And at first thought, saying that didn't convince him enough of how he had committed this sin at all. However, with how he would belittle or fight others simply to gain a hint of knowledge of what their weak spot is? How he would lock himself away from his (mostly, whoops) still living wife and kids, for hours, days, or even months at a time just to crack into books and works that lived longer than him to get a hint of something he couldn't quite grasp? Well, even if he didn't, he was sure that God must have seen that as rude. To say the least. I mean, here he was. In hell. Clearly, he didn't favour the guy.
Third. Greed. And god, was he greedy. He needed gain. It was a sort of craving he had, in a sick reality that he only noticed after he was damned to hell. He needed a group of men to lead in the war. He needed to work in the government, on Washington's right side. He needed to graduate early. He needed to leave Nevis to pursue a better education. He needed to do everything he could and anything he could just to gain. He supposed it tied in with how he, when still alive, was obsessed with his legacy. If he had everything, if he gained everything, then he would be seen as some sort of martyr. And, well, if he thought about it through and through, then that's what caused him to commit all of these sins. Perhaps not Lust, but still.
Fourth. Sloth. This one was God being petty, and he was going to swear by that as long as he was stuck being licked at by medium hot and surprisingly soothing flames. (He had decided that Hell was a lot more chill than he expected it to be.) Just because he didn't have time to get down on his fucking knees every second and pray doesn't mean he didn't believe. He was still faithful. And he wasn't fucking lazy, he wasn't represented by Sloth. He was going to hold this as a grudge against God until the day he died.
Oh wait.
Fifth. Wrath. Two words, one name. Thomas Jefferson. Honestly, he was surprised he hadn't seen that asshole around. He figured the man would be partying with Hitler. _They shared the same ideals,_ it was easy for him to think, with a bitterness left when he hissed the name. If he hadn't met that Virginian fucker, he wouldn't have committed this sin. ..Well, there's also Adams, and Madison. Burr, and Reynolds. King George, and all of Britain. But like the details of the sin states, it's hate that may provoke feuds that can go on for centuries. And, trust him, it's been a hundred years. He still hated the asshole.
Sixth. Envy. Fuck, he despised this one. And he despised just whom he envied, as well. It was the same asshole who landed him with Wrath. He couldn't help it, the man was brilliant. As stupid as his political views were, the way he _broadcasted_ them. The ideas were idiotic, but he was the more intelligent man Alexander had known. Not only is he the most intelligent, but he's the most laid back, as well. He didn't spit off as soon as soon as somebody questioned him, threatened him, or challenged him. In fact, he smiled. He _laughed_. He brushed it off. And that was ridiculous. Alexander envied him. He envied how the man was so cool, so chill, so.. God, he hated the fact he was rambling about the Virginian.
Seventh. Pride.
I don't even have to explain.
So, sitting in hell, he decided one thing and one thing only. Well, no. Two things. But one thing for now. He was an asshole. He, Alexander Hamilton, was a bad person. When he was still alive. He deserved being in hell, honestly. He was glad he was here. Because being in here made him decide on the second thing he decided. He needed to _change_.
So he was going to fucking change.
He was going to be the purest asshole he could be. The nicest, most kind-hearted, well-meaning, and merciful man in the world. Even as he sat on the top of World Trade Center, his really cool demon wings holding behind his back. Even as he watched all of the people walking, looking like ants to him, where they couldn't even see him since he was invisible. He was going to be the purest, nicest, most innocent damn demon there ever was.
And no man, demon, or even angel was going to change that.
I'm looking for a Jefferson to do a Heaven/Hell AU with me.
I can be lit, semi-lit, advanced, really anything; though I prefer going full detail and in-depth with what I write. More often than not, I bounce off of my partner's writing style. The one thing I'll refuse to do is one-liners, and I'd prefer if my partners don't do one-liners, either.
TW: Religion, heaven, hell, demons, angels, god, satan, the seven deadly sins, and swearing
(This one was actually inspired by a prompt! - "Prompt: Character A is an angel and Character B is a demon. However, Character A is mischievous, manipulative, and happily causes harm instead of doing good whereas Character B is kind-hearted, well-meaning, and merciful. Character A approaches Character B one day, thinking the demon to be a like-minded individual, however, Character A is forced to reconsider their own wrong-doings when they begin to develop a soft spot for Character B." Hamilton is Character B, as Jefferson is Character A.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alexander knew he was going to hell. He wasn't going to sit there and pretend that he wasn't. He wished he could, in all honesty. He wished he could forget that death was even a thing, and just live life. he wished it didn't loom over his shoulder like a shadow of a man in front of him, him remembering it so much it felt more like a memory than a distant future. But, really, forgetting is far more difficult than remembering. He's lived his entire life with his legacy on his mind, of course he's going to imagine his death. What are people going to think of him when he was gone? It was what motivated him when his father left, when his mother died, when his cousin had taken his own life. He needed to keep working. He needed to build himself up as more than he already was. He needed to give himself a name, a story. He couldn't make himself forgettable.
Dying and being forgotten was worse than being alive and getting more attention than he wanted.
Honestly, it was impossible for there to be a single deadly sin he hasn't committed. He could list every single deadly sin, every seven of them, and tell you just how he had committed it. Which, he will do. Right now. Lust, wasn't that one obvious? He cheated on his wife with a certain Maria Reynolds, not once, not twice, but multiple times. And with a now existing generation of people, somehow still aware of his name and claim to fame, writing up theories about how he may have slept with his close friend John Laurens, or eventual enemy Aaron Burr? Well, his memory didn't fail him, he knew he hadn't - but even still, their words were so.. Convincing. He found himself believing despite knowing the exact opposite.
Secondly. Gluttony. This one took him a while to conjure, but he was sure he had committed it. It had nothing to do with food, trust him. While he had no specific distaste for eating, or what he ate, he didn't bother eating more than he needed or eating less healthy food. Then again, he didn't really eat healthy food, either. If he ever remembered to eat between work hours, it would be a sort of microwavable meal that would somehow suffice a week-long hunger. No, it wasn't food. It was for a sort of.. Power. He was a glutton for knowledge. And at first thought, saying that didn't convince him enough of how he had committed this sin at all. However, with how he would belittle or fight others simply to gain a hint of knowledge of what their weak spot is? How he would lock himself away from his (mostly, whoops) still living wife and kids, for hours, days, or even months at a time just to crack into books and works that lived longer than him to get a hint of something he couldn't quite grasp? Well, even if he didn't, he was sure that God must have seen that as rude. To say the least. I mean, here he was. In hell. Clearly, he didn't favour the guy.
Third. Greed. And god, was he greedy. He needed gain. It was a sort of craving he had, in a sick reality that he only noticed after he was damned to hell. He needed a group of men to lead in the war. He needed to work in the government, on Washington's right side. He needed to graduate early. He needed to leave Nevis to pursue a better education. He needed to do everything he could and anything he could just to gain. He supposed it tied in with how he, when still alive, was obsessed with his legacy. If he had everything, if he gained everything, then he would be seen as some sort of martyr. And, well, if he thought about it through and through, then that's what caused him to commit all of these sins. Perhaps not Lust, but still.
Fourth. Sloth. This one was God being petty, and he was going to swear by that as long as he was stuck being licked at by medium hot and surprisingly soothing flames. (He had decided that Hell was a lot more chill than he expected it to be.) Just because he didn't have time to get down on his fucking knees every second and pray doesn't mean he didn't believe. He was still faithful. And he wasn't fucking lazy, he wasn't represented by Sloth. He was going to hold this as a grudge against God until the day he died.
Oh wait.
Fifth. Wrath. Two words, one name. Thomas Jefferson. Honestly, he was surprised he hadn't seen that asshole around. He figured the man would be partying with Hitler. _They shared the same ideals,_ it was easy for him to think, with a bitterness left when he hissed the name. If he hadn't met that Virginian fucker, he wouldn't have committed this sin. ..Well, there's also Adams, and Madison. Burr, and Reynolds. King George, and all of Britain. But like the details of the sin states, it's hate that may provoke feuds that can go on for centuries. And, trust him, it's been a hundred years. He still hated the asshole.
Sixth. Envy. Fuck, he despised this one. And he despised just whom he envied, as well. It was the same asshole who landed him with Wrath. He couldn't help it, the man was brilliant. As stupid as his political views were, the way he _broadcasted_ them. The ideas were idiotic, but he was the more intelligent man Alexander had known. Not only is he the most intelligent, but he's the most laid back, as well. He didn't spit off as soon as soon as somebody questioned him, threatened him, or challenged him. In fact, he smiled. He _laughed_. He brushed it off. And that was ridiculous. Alexander envied him. He envied how the man was so cool, so chill, so.. God, he hated the fact he was rambling about the Virginian.
Seventh. Pride.
I don't even have to explain.
So, sitting in hell, he decided one thing and one thing only. Well, no. Two things. But one thing for now. He was an asshole. He, Alexander Hamilton, was a bad person. When he was still alive. He deserved being in hell, honestly. He was glad he was here. Because being in here made him decide on the second thing he decided. He needed to _change_.
So he was going to fucking change.
He was going to be the purest asshole he could be. The nicest, most kind-hearted, well-meaning, and merciful man in the world. Even as he sat on the top of World Trade Center, his really cool demon wings holding behind his back. Even as he watched all of the people walking, looking like ants to him, where they couldn't even see him since he was invisible. He was going to be the purest, nicest, most innocent damn demon there ever was.
And no man, demon, or even angel was going to change that.
