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hoovii · 10 months

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A Very Crossover Crime

Fandoms: Suite Life on Deck, Z-O-M-B-I-E-S, Criminal Minds, My Little Pony, My Babysitter's a Vampire

Written for @tom-hunter-summah

Parties that may be interested: @whatthekidscallbolt @diagnosed-crazy @calico-kiwi

Warnings: terribly ooc writing, swearing, violence, death, major character death, mentions of SA

Notes: for the sake of clarity the teens are all roughly 19/20, pronouns are whatever i want them to be, fuck bailey all my homies hate bailey, ive never seen my little pony

"Hey Erica, I don't know if this is a good idea."

Rory yelled over the noise of the wind as they flew over Washington. He only kind of knew what was going on as Erica had interrupted him in the middle of his game, announcing she was hungry before promptly leaving again. In the time after the Whitechapel explosion, something had changed between them. Maybe it was because they were the only person she knew, but Erica was choosing to be around them more and more often. Of course, she was still Erica, but the scathing comments became more lighthearted. They were truly becoming friends. Which is why Rory followed her after her surprise outburst; they knew she expected them to.

"It'll be fun. I've always wanted to try zombie blood," she tossed a wink at them as they landed.

"I just think The Council-"

"Bup bup bup. Who do you trust more, the council or me?" she fluttered her lashes.

"Well, you of course," their grin huge.

"Then let's go."

They landed just outside of Seabrook, Washington. Hopping a tall fence placed them in a rundown section of the town, decorated in scrap metal. From what they understood the town was divided into two, humans and zombies, or it was before things got complicated. It was loud and quiet at the same time. There was remarkably little wildlife. It almost unnerved Rory, though they supposed the two vamps may have spooked the local critters, instinct telling them to run and hide. On the other hand, there were voices everywhere. Some were hushed, others big and boisterous. Rory plodded along behind Erica, puppy dog posture contradictory to her cat-like posture. Her sharp eyes, looking for someone that wouldn't be missed.

After what seemed like a hundred hours of searching, well, it's hard to say Rory was searching, but, after a hundred hours of walking, they found two young men smoking a cigarette. Erica gave Rory a look, signaling the attack.

"Oh my god; this is delicious!"

Rory simply nodded enthusiastically in response.

"Now this I could get used to."

Two Weeks Later

"Sixteen bodies found in the last two weeks. All in Seabrook, Washington. All victims have been zombies with two puncture wounds in the neck. They were drained of blood." Hotch lectured.

"So what, we've got a vampire on our hands?" Morgan quirked an eyebrowm

Reid piped in, "Or someone who thinks they are. There's actually a popular subculture filled with people who identify as vampires. They wear fangs and sometimes even drink blood"

"Well, whatever they are they're not slowing down. The Seabrook police department has asked us to come in. They want us in by morning."

Hotch's statement signaled they were finished and he dismissed the others to get ready for their flight.

Several hours after their initial briefing, the group sat in the jet, reviewing the case. Everyone was at least two and a half cups deep into their coffee, deciphering eyes staring at the case file. Opinions being thrown back and forth.

JJ spoke up, "Look at the bruising around the neck. It almost looks like-"

"Hickeys," Morgan quirked his eyebrows at the realization.

"According to the autopsy report, the bodies showed no sign of sexual assault. They declared that the bruises were from strangulation." Rossi added, not entirely believing the statement, simply trying to relay it.

Emily, unhappy with this answer, kept on. "Yeah, but I think they might be misidentifying them. Look at the layout of the bruises. Does that look like a human hand to you?"

"It very well could be a misidentification," Reid spoke slowly, eyebrows furrowed as he flipped back and forth between the photos of the victims. "Understanding of zombie biology is very limited. In fact, humans in Seabrook didn't start interacting with them until the "Z-Band" was invented in 1985, and hardly at all beyond that until 2020 after an act passed allowing zombie children to attend regular high school."

"So you're telling me we're working off of nothing?" Morgan said, exasperated.

"Well, not nothing. Look at the puncture wounds on the victims. They're different sizes. That, coupled with the fact that the victims are killed in pairs..."

"We're looking at partners," Rossi finished for Reid.

"Now kiddos, before you get off the boat I want to remind you that we're only staying here for a couple days. Don't forget the buddy system, and please be back on the boat by..."

Miss Tutweiller trailed off, the group already having left her sight.

"I can't believe she's still calling us kiddos. We graduated a year ago," Cody remarked.

"Yeah, well maybe if you stopped acting like one she would. I mean, look at that fanny pack," Zack pointed out.

"I'll have you know that this fanny pack—"

"Would you two shut up? You're both acting like kids," Bailey sniped.

Zack, Cody, Woody, and Bailey walked around the Main Street square of Seabrook, Washington. It was abnormally barren, considering the gorgeous weather. Only a few lonely bodies walked the streets. Most of them were people from the ship. Actually, looking at it Cody realized they were all people from the ship.

"Ooh, frozen yogurt. I hope they have double seaberry swirl," Woody grinned excitedly.

They ducked into the frozen yogurt shop, relieved to find at least someone from the town occupying it: A teen couple, a gray-skinned, green-haired boy across the table from a white-haired girl with healthier-looking skin. They looked frightened if she was being honest. That is until a hand was shoved into their faces.

"Well howdy there. I'm Bailey. Wah wah wah. Wah wah."

She continued introducing them. She was speaking. He was sure of it.

"So you haven't heard," the girl, Addison, spoke.

"There's been murders here in Seabrook. Everyone's scared out of their minds."

If murder wasn't enough to make her jump out of her seat then murders plural sure was.

"Hehe. What?" Zack chuckled nervously, mouth left open, hand hanging loosely in half protest.

"That's it! I'm out of here, seaberry swirl or not!" Woody ran from the parlor.

Zack followed after him, "Hey, Woody. Wait—"

He was cut off abruptly after running into something. Or someone, it would appear. It was a blonde guy about his age, a little shorter than him.

"Well, hello there good lookin'," Zack smirked.

"Well, don't you look tasty," came another voice.

A blonde girl was standing beside him, their tongue gliding across their lower lip as they studied Zack.

"Wow, double babe alert."

"I'm Erica, and this is my..." the girl did a once over on the guy next to her, "friend, Rory." Rory gave him a grin.

"I'm Zack."

"You know Zack, it's not safe to be out here all alone," Erica dragged her finger down his arm, "Things are pretty scary around here."

Zack, only slightly distracted by the touch, responded, "Aha, but I'm not alone. I've got my pal Woody with me," he looked around, "Woody?"

"You were saying?"

"Zack, there you are. Why did you run off like that? Didn't you hear what that girl said? People are getting murdered. Where's Woody?"

Cody quickly interrupted the tension. Whether or not that was for the better, Zack couldn't tell yet.

"You guys look a little lost," Erica said, eyeing up Cody and Bailey, "Let us show you around. We can help you find your friend."

Bailey spoke some words of confirmation, and Erica pushed herself between Bailey and Cody, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders. Rory placed themself next to Zack, and they began walking.

Hotch stood in front of the entire Seabrook police department. He despised their demeanor, how little they seemed to care about the nightmarish events happening beneath their noses. As if every zombie in this town could be killed and they still wouldn't give a damn. The whole town was just a tad too cheery, the pastel exterior simply a facade, hiding terrible horrors inside. Something was off, but he couldn't tell what. He cleared his throat, gathering the attention of the room.

"You're looking for a pair: a man and a woman between the ages 18 and 25. They are going to be very close to each other, possibly siblings or partners. They are incredibly loyal to each other and will die before turning the other in. The woman is going to be the dominant partner. She is calling all of the shots," Hotch finished presenting the profile and stepped off the podium.

"You think they'll listen?" Rossi asked.

"I'm not sure."

"They don't seem too interested in catching these guys," Emily added.

"We need to be out there. We need to be doing something," Morgan said.

"No. We've been instructed to stay at the station. We are going to stay at the station," Hotch retorted.

Morgan stormed off. He found a bench outside of the station and sat on it. Huffing, he picked up his cell phone.

"Babygirl, what can you tell me about Seabrook."

"Erica! What are we going to do? There's police everywhere. I can't go to jail!"

Rory was panicking. The other three had all needed to use the bathroom and Rory had taken the time to panic.

"Relax; they're on our side remember?"

Erica placed a soft grip on her shoulder, physically comforting her but still giving a look that said 'Dude, duh'.

"Oh. Right," Rory chuckled embarrassedly.

"Now as soon as the cops get here, Bailey and Cody are going to attack us, and the cops are going to arrest them, and then we get to go home with some major cash in our pockets," they winked at her.

"Well, not home."

Even Erica seemed a little dejected at that statement. She missed Whitechapel. She missed Sarah. It had been three years. Three years of wandering. The two had never really assimilated into the group, always kind of outsiders, never making any real friends.

Erica noticed several officers loitering, several with hands hovering their weapons.

"Hey guys I—"

Bailey and Cody quickly grabbed Rory and Erica, bearing their teeth. There was a look of fear in both of their eyes. What the fuck was going on?

"Help!" Erica screamed. The two began to let out cries.

"What are you doing?" Cody whispered. "How are you doing this?"

Erica looked at her and gave a small grin before continuing her yelling. The police officers, now aware of the situation raised their weapons, pointing toward the scene.

"Step away from them and put your hands in the air," an officer shouted.

Erica released her hold on Cody, panting slightly, two people under her control was pushing her limit. Cody quickly removed herself from Erica, taking several steps back, hands in the air.

"Ma'am, step away from the man."

Bailey opened her mouth and—bang! Bailey crumpled to the ground.

"Bailey!" Cody screamed. He fell to his knees, sobbing.

The police took the opportunity to run in, cuffing Cody before lifting her, dragging her across the pavement before they pushed her into the back of the car.

Zack stared, horrified at what had just happened. Cody and Bailey had attacked Erica and Rory. Why did they do that? Why did they do that? Why didn't Bailey let go when the police showed up? Why did she try to bite Rory? Bailey was dead. They shot her. He watched it happen. He didn't do anything. He just sat and watched. What the hell happened? It was a blur as the three of them were escorted to the station for witness statements. He had half a mind to think that there should've been an ambulance, but he didn't have the voice to ask why there wasn't. Where was Woody? He hadn't seen him since the yogurt shop. He noticed, not only the police as they entered the station. Is that the FBI? They sat him at a table in an interrogation room. He was given some water and snacks.

"Now son," an officer sat in front of him, "tell me what happened."

"My friends attacked those guys."

In the lobby, Erica and Rory were talking to another officer.

"Well done, you've done much to help with our little zombie problem. You two can go ahead and go home."

Erica gave Rory a high five and a grin. "Let's go home."

A bright purple light flashed just outside of Seabrook. Twilight Sparkle looked around at her friends and their new human forms. They had made it to Seabrook. "Come on everypony; there's a friendship crisis that needs solving!"

End.

#suite life on deck #disney zombies #criminal minds #my little pony #mbav #tw violence #tw death

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dentwy · 5 months

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number 3: house of leaves

i have this one discord bot i keep dming stuff to so it's easier to get files through mobile to pc, and as a general list of things i don’t feel like saving anywhere else or wanna be reminded of. obviously as i keep adding stuff i forget about older things just like you do with your watch later on youtube. tuesday, december 21 of the year 2021 at 1:50am i sent this message:

i know for a fact it's just because that's when i watched the game grumps play santa clause 3 but the point is that i've put it aside for quite some time now. as the years went on i'm pretty sure i've heard people mention the book here and there, but the thing that definitely made decide i want to read it is none other than the power pak myhouse.wad video, as i'm sure most people this year have experienced as well. sometimes it can feel intrusive for people in such a tight fandom to get bombarded with newcomers experiencing what you like in a completely different way because your niche thing now is more popular than ever, but i personally try to keep respectful about people's passions and i'm fairly realistic about it. yeah, i know you know about the doom mod, and it's cool, but let's focus on what's important. house of leaves.

"This is not for you." he said, well you can't tell me what to do johnny truant! gatekeeping is funny, i can't argue against it, and it's specially funny when the book you just opened is doing it to you. however, it usually seems with this book as if people treat it like some kind of evil secret thing you can only read and understand if you're fucked up and want to suffer. literature is a medium to share ideas and stories, stop making it out to be some kind of secret club. and to you reddit, please stop asking if you can skip the footnotes or a guide on how to read it, it's a book. just read the damn thing.

if by any chance you're reading this and haven't experienced house of leaves yet, i encourage you to do so. not sure if the pinnacle of ergodic literature, but it's absolutely an experience like none other. i mean, look up the book on google images and it'll catch your eye in an instant. it's a book within a book, within a movie, within a story, within a house. the maze never ends, and the house is ever expanding. it may be the wrong decision, but fuck it, it's yours.

there’re two core sides to this story, johnny truant's delusions and ongoing madness over this book he's just found, and the story this book is describing. i honestly fail to understand how people get bored of what mark danielewski has managed to concoct here, as the introduction itself was instantly gripping to me. alike johnny himself, i could not put away house of leaves until i finished it in the span of around 2 weeks. the constant back and forth between the narrators in the story could seem daunting at first, but each one adds so much more to the experience, recontextualizing characters, or scenes, or the entire book in nothing more than a couple of lines (or multiple pages for a single footnote). it's like reading through the ramblings of a crazy man, except you are actually reading through the ramblings of multiple crazy men. ticking away slowly, unveiling whatever could be at the end of the corridor.

as unreliable narrators go, never being sure on what you're reading is real or not is what constantly pushes the mystery into the words. it's what we choose to believe in that can change it all. i distinctly remember the navidson record detailing a comparison between the director of a movie called "la belle niçoise et le beau chien" and the character we've been following, will navidson. this seemingly real film, is in fact, not real. nothing more than a fabrication. layers upon layers of commentary, description, analysis and characterization forever shifting with the things we say, write and read, may all be not much more than a lie. the power of words is not to be underestimated. it is in fact the words and how they're used what make this book what it is. be it the decision to give the word house a tint of blue, purposely leaving things vague when it's most important, or driving off into completely unrelated tangents about debatably irrelevant topics. you may gather all the clues you want, yet the authenticity of the events are for you to decide. the line between reality and fiction warps the more you go and it may as well keep expanding the further you walk down those stairs.

1/4" can make the whole difference. the house represents many things. fear, uncertainty, secrecy, anxiety, suffering, peace, obsession, trauma. what goes in, may not ever leave, and what's outside, may not ever know. there's an overarching feeling of passion behind the actions the characters take. it's human nature to be curious, to solve the mysteries presented to us and to want to fix things with our own two hands. but what might look small, could very well be a lot bigger on the inside. more than you could've ever expected. "Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance. Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer."

there is a paragraph that i will not ever forget about, that i believe perfectly exemplifies the feeling of uncertainty of the unknown, not being in control and carrying the dread behind you:

"To get a better idea try this: focus on these words, and whatever you do don’t let your eyes wander past the perimeter of this page. Now imagine just beyond your peripheral vision, maybe behind you, maybe to the side of you, maybe even in front of you, but right where you can’t see it, something is quietly closing in on you, so quiet in fact you can only hear it as silence. Find those pockets without sound. That’s where it is. Right at this moment. But don’t look. Keep your eyes here. Now take a deep breath. Go ahead take an even deeper one. Only this time as you start to exhale try to imagine how fast it will happen, how hard it’s gonna hit you, how many times it will stab your jugular with its teeth or are they nails?, don’t worry, that particular detail doesn’t matter, because before you have time to even process that you should be moving, you should be running, you should at the very least be flinging up your arms—you sure as hell should be getting rid of this book—you won’t have time to even scream. Don’t look. I didn’t. Of course I looked. I looked so fucking fast I should of ended up wearing one of those neck braces for whiplash."

it has been argued house of leaves is a love story. i see it, and people have agreed as well, more as a story about love. family love, unrequited love, friendly love, love for small and big things, love for those and that you care about the most. the love that drives us forward to do what we do. granted it's mostly just semantics than a difference in genre, but it gives it a different meaning to me. the way words change how we perceive what surround us.

the open-ended nature of the book can leave things to be desired, but that may as well just be life. we're not sure about what's beyond, or what the meaning of it all is, yet we keep moving on. we strive for more, we want to make things right, but the corridor keeps expanding, and the further you go, the darker it gets.

#review #media analysis #house of leaves #literature #books #mark z danielewski

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katiesharms · 2 years

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i'm praying you don't see the signs (praying for you to be mine) - ch. 1

fandom: top gun: maverick, pairing: phoenix/hangman

read on ao3!

summary: Phoenix and Hangman have known each other for over a decade. It takes a lot of time for anyone to really see what's between them.

a/n: okay i'm back by popular demand (one tumblr ask). this takes place in the same universe as if you let me down, let me down slow! it'll be a few short chapters of everyone's first time noticing/understanding the phoenix/hangman dynamic. up first is coyote!

Javy notices it first.

He sees it coming from a mile away, the way his friend won’t stop riling up the sophomore in their honors Physics seminar. She’s the only sophomore to get approval for the course this year, and Jake can’t stand it, insisting that her being there lowers the integrity of the course or something. Honestly, Javy stopped paying attention pretty early on. He’s pretty sure Jake’s just upset because he applied for the course last year and was turned away.

At first, Javy feels bad for the girl. Jake can be mean, downright nasty, when he’s feeling insecure or overlooked, and her success in the class is definitely getting to him. But Natasha Trace can dole it out just as well as Jake, and soon the class is overtaken by the two of them lobbing thinly veiled barbs back and forth and racing to answer every question. In one particularly memorable class, the two of them spent the entire time arguing about an easily Google-able fact regarding jet propulsion engines. Javy honestly appreciates it, as does the rest of the class. They all get to sit back and let the two of them suck up all the air in the room for an hour.

Then, one day, Natasha isn’t there. The class is painfully slow, the professor’s attempts to get people to participate like pulling teeth. Even Javy offers up an answer every once in a while, if only to stop the torturous silences. Jake is quiet through the whole thing, occasionally shooting glances at the empty seat and bouncing his leg the entire time.

“Where is she?” Jake asks as they’re packing up their stuff after class.

“Who?” Javy responds, just to be an asshole. When Jake shoots him a glare and Javy raises his eyebrows in question, proud of himself for keeping a straight face.

“Trace,” he grounds out.

“Oh, I heard some of her friends saying she has the flu. Must be pretty bad for her to miss class.” Back in October, Nat had come down with a rather nasty cold, but she’d shown up to class anyway, sniffling through her answers. Jake called Snuffleupagus for three days.

“Huh,” is all his friend says and then they go their separate ways.

Despite the seminar being both their last class for the day, Javy doesn’t see Jake for a couple of hours. When he finally does return to their room, he’s carrying a paper bag. Jake rifles through his backpack for a moment, pulling out a notebook and then turns to leave, clearly trying to be surreptitious.

“Where are you going?” Javy asks though he has a good idea.

Jake turns towards him and answers. “Bringing Trace the notes from the day. Since she’s a fucking sophomore, she probably doesn’t know anyone in the class who can get them for her.” His tone is even but Jake is shifting his weight, clearly sheepish.

“And the bag?”

“Uh, it’s soup.” A light blush rises to Jake’s cheeks and Javy bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Jesus fucking Christ, he thinks.

“Any reason you're bringing your sworn rival soup and notes?”

“I need her up to par for it to be a fair fight. No fun picking on a poor sickly girl.” His act of bravado is back up, but Javy can see through it, can see the heart.

“Right, well give her my best wishes. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you.”

“Fuck off,” Jake mutters and then he’s out the door.

In retrospect, Javy should’ve clocked it immediately. He chalks it up to the stress of the beginning of the semester and the initial aggressive antagonism of Jake and Natasha’s relationship. But now that he sees it, it’s obvious. They’re so fucking alike that they’re either gonna destroy one another or be the only people on the planet who can handle each other.

So Javy sees it. He’s sure they will too, eventually. He doesn’t expect it’ll take more tHan a decade, but hey, more material for that best man’s speech.

#top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #hannix #phoenix x hangman #hangman x phoenix #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #javy coyote machado #my writing

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teledild0nix · 1 year

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@tackytigerfic tagged me in the stats game, for which i am very grateful bc i love these games!

so i've written 119 fics across 11 fandoms, but i'm going to stick to my HP stuff just for the sake of a cohesive list. i'm also going to stick to fics with 1k+ wordcount bc drabbles feel like cheating a bit. also even all these have over 1k hits which is like!!! imagine a thousand people picking up your story off the shelf at the library or bookstore and reading it or even just quietly thumbing through it or thinking hmm i like the look of this and i'm going to take it home. and then they don't get to it. but still! it's kind of a staggering number.

Without Pretense (3.5K) harry and draco are friends but still dancing around whether they'll wind up dating. draco gets curious about harry acting strange one night, and after following him, discovers harry doing something bizarre but very harry. i have a soft spot for this story! i love all my stories really. obviously a lot of the emotional catharsis in this story comes from the release of tension between harry and draco (they DO get together in the end!) but also. this story is partly about how rootless harry feels as an orphan (and a Black orphan tbh!) and the silly, reckless, loving thing he does with that feeling.

Forth They Went Together (11.8K) so this is the 4th and final part of my moonrise series, and being part 4 of a 60K series is kind of a high barrier to entry to be fair. so i'm not surprised this fic has relatively fewer kudos. also it's a christmas story and i kinda feel like ppl don't like that? anyway, not super plotty. draco is a lycanthropy rights activist (and a werewolf) and a reform bill has just been passed granting lycanthropes some rights that have been denied them, in large part due to draco's work and his testimony to the wizengamot, and he's So Excited! this story is about the two of them basking in the love and light of their chosen family, really. there are also a couple of moments of sharp contrast between draco's chosen family and his family of origin. one of my favorite things in this fic is the relationship between draco and ginny! i love their stupid nicknames for each other. best friend shit. i also LOVE harry dressing up as santa (so does draco lol...)

Homing (8.6K) this is another christmas story! i do kinda feel like ppl don't rlly like reading christmas stories in this fandom? and yet i'm working on another one (which isn't actually about christmas but it'll be kind of holidayish)(i digress). draco gets disowned by his parents for refusing to marry astoria (his best friend) and astoria and harry conspire to have him stay with harry at grimmauld place. there are some letters back and forth between draco and astoria which is always fun. draco is a pianist who plays at a muggle gay bar, which i love. my spouse noted that i (who have a complicated relationship with my homophobic parents) keep giving draco a clean break in my stories. changing for the better is exquisite and painful, and not everyone you wish would come with you always does.

The Joy of Bleeding (6K) draco has just lost his estranged mother, and through a confluence of factors, harry is the eldest member of the Black family and has to assist with her burial, as draco no longer has the legal right to. oh also harry is draco's ex boyfriend who's still in love with him. this is another story about loving the people who are there for you and loving the people who fail you. draco's chosen family rallies around him, and everything sucks and hurts so bad but there are beautiful and sublime things too. i'm not going to say what the opening scene is because i think it's better unspoiled, but i really liked that choice.

Solarium (10.3 K) this is part 2 of moonrise, my werewolf draco series. i wrote this in 2020 and it shows! harry gets cursed through handling a cursed artifact at grimmauld place (where he and draco happen to live) and winds up in the hospital for a few weeks, struggling to throw off a sleeping curse. he's miserable and bored and his mind is foggy and he's scared he'll never be the same again. and also he doesn't want to move out of grimmauld place -_- draco is so worried and loves harry so much and is so fucking frustrated with him for not taking the obvious precaution. they figure it out, though. i really like the scenes with hagrid in this story. nobody includes hagrid for some reason, but he's So Important. also love the very last scene. more about how harry's relationship with his background so to speak, as a Black orphan (all my harry potters are Black; just remember that when you read my work!) i'll include a snippet bc i just can't resist

thanks again for tagging me, @tackytigerfic!!!! i love these games! i'm not sure who's already done this but anyone who wants to play should play and feel free to tag me so i can see your work!

#hp fic #tag games #hp fic rec #drarry #liddy's fic #apliddell

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shortmage · 11 months

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Hello! I’ve got a couple from the fanfic author questions I would like to ask you here ❤️

4, 11, 29, 43, 49, 58

65. If you wrote a sequel to [Struck with Devastating Affection] what would happen in it? (I swear I’m not angling for anything here 😇)

And 72? ( Feel free to cherry pick if that is a way too long list of questions there ^^;)

ah, thank you thank you for letting me ramble ❤️❤️❤️

4. How do you choose which fics to write?

im honestly not sure, its really whichever idea/wip that my brain latches on to long enough for it to get finished. if its an idea i really really want to do, it'll get done sooner or later cause i'll spend more time just staring at doc until something comes loose but really anything that has it's own dedicated doc in my folder, even if it's completely blank with just the title/the line or idea that inspired me, i fully intend to write it at some point. so tl;dr i intend to/choose to write all the fics that come to me

11. Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

oh i jump around SO BAD, even my big bang fic which had a general plot outline for pacing, i jumped back and forth between chapters. i dont think ive written a fic in order EVER

29. What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

i think just improving since i started back writing creatively two or so years ago now. like re-reading back to those first few i published and what ive published recently, i feel really proud of my improvement!

43. Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

im not certain, i think maybe a werewolf fic cause that feels like such a ubiquitous fandom thing but i do have a wip for that, it's just a matter of actually getting it written

49. What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

oh.... now that is a difficult question. i think sfw it might be 'the maker won't mind' or 'i want us to eat well', cause they both came from such places of love for the characters. nsfw, hee hee, i think that might be 'who we belong to' cause i think i really popped off in that fic, lol.

58. Do you have a favorite piece of figurative language you’ve written?

i think it might be the din talking about his mother's dessert in relation to boba in 'struck with devastating affection' cause im really proud that the feeling i was aiming for got across but also because i didnt even notice that i made a vampire feel like something tasted like sunshine to them, LIKE sometimes when i write i just do things just right when my overthinking brain shuts off and just lets the writing brain take over

65. If you wrote a sequel to [Struck with Devastating Affection] what would happen in it?

oh angle all you like, truly. i mean i do really really really want to write a sequel at some point, and i think it kind of planned that from the beginning. or if not the immediate start then not long after it was finished, cause i just really got caught up in what worldbuilding was there and i think there's places to go with it. and if nothing else, ive somehow amped up the sexual tension in BOTH of the vampire fics ive written and then cut to black, so i should really give them a nsfw follow-up in some degree, lol.

72. What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

i honestly love every single comment and compliment i get and i hold them so dear but any time someone says they feel that i've gotten a character's voice right just really gives me the warm fuzzies. OR, speaking of, any time someone has said a fic feels like a warm hug to them! MAKES ME SOB TBH

#long post #mage answers #mage writing

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galpalpetraral · 6 months

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[20 Question Fic Writer Tag]

(tagged by @darlingpoppet)

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 17 currently, but I'm a serial deleter and I always wanna keep it under 20. would be like. 69 by now otherwise

2. What is your AO3 word count? 217,645...and see above LOL I shudder to imagine what it would be if I wasn't always deleting

3. What fandoms do you write for? mostly cql and asoiaf in recent years. tho I also have a zelda wip I've been kicking around for a while...we'll see if that ever amounts to anything :') and I'll still keep a few snk fics up, being mighty fond of those days

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? tuck the darkness in (wx shrinking haunted house fic), sunday night lights (eruri football au), friendly fields (wx ghost baby fic), fourth one will prob be deleted soon so it doesn't count lol, and where they grow (madam lan lives au).

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? yep every time! at most it'll take me a month to respond but I never let it go beyond that. even the negative ones (I'm a Pro-Crit Fanfic Guy sorry)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? the ending to our shadow over the sea (rhaenicent fic) has garnered many delightful threats upon my person and I cherish them all. that and two slow dancers (eruri vampire au): FIGHT!

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? most of my other fics tbqh ugh :( maybe set me as a seal (eruri reincarnation au) just bc happy endings for the ruris are rare wah...

8. Do you get hate on fics? idk if I would call it hate, but criticism yes! most common word I hear along that line is "boring" which is definitely understandable lol, there are times when I reread my own works and find them too generic/not rly offering anything new, in which case I take that forward with me into new works to try to enrich them. although I guess if by "hate" you mean like, troll type hate on pairings & things, then yeah who doesn't LOL

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yep, and more so in recent years! and it's the kind of smut that's way too sappy no matter the situation no matter the tone UGH :(

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? snk/asoiaf crossover for my yumihisu rights...idk if it counts as a crossover since it's just snk characters in the asoiaf world, but I did go Very heavy on the asoiaf lore lol whoops

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? yeah lol multiple but I kinda forgot until this was asked, can't bring myself to care unfortch, peace be with you

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? yes!! southern cross translated into chinese by gloria_77, set me as a seal translated into chinese by applethief326, and sunday night lights translated into russian by ackermantihora! and I know there's still several translations of deleted fics out there heh. I so appreciate the hard work of you amazing translators!!

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before? not since I was a kid doing it for giggles with friends, but definitely a lot of fun :)

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? eruri literally life-changing, so. and korrasami

15. What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will? oh man there was this one hannibal wip I had back in the day that like, the themes and imagery and stuff would've been so legit but I needed someone smarter than me to write it :( it was about will & hannibal taking sanctuary in that one silician cathedral while besieged by police. kinda weaving back and forth between past and present, contemplating God and gods and stuff. someone write this please. also there's this one cql post-canon fic but it's all about accepting death and the curse of immortality and stuff and it's kind of a bummer to write LOL maybe will keep chipping away at it one day

16. What are your writing strengths? seems like I'm good at getting across my goal themes & purposes - ppl seem to pick up what I'm putting down often and it makes me happy! because I do tend to err on the side of vagueness & trusting the audience, and it's nice when it's rewarded :)

17. What are your writing weaknesses? like mentioned before, my fics have been called boring & I think that has a lot to do with some generic imagery/syntax I've relied on - definitely something I've tried to improve on but it's a work in progress! like I've sometimes sacrificed diction for story flow ya know, it doesn't work on shrewder readers and I def respect that & want to do better

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? if you know what you're doing, cool! but I've come across too many instances in fics where the author demonstrated a lack of basic understanding of the language & not only does it throw you out but it feels disrespectful - I know ppl get all "it's just fanfic I'm not being paid!!1!!!!11" but if you're going to work within a culture that's not your own, research. not exactly sure if that's what the question is asking LOL but that's been my experience both as a reader and a writer

19. First fandom you wrote for? legend of zelda!! I wrote a billion words of ocarina of time pre-canon fic about the three goddesses at age 10 on a beat-up floppy disc. those were the days man

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? man something happened with southern cross that I've never been able to truly replicate...looking back there's a few too many extra words, few too many instances of passive voice, but for the most part I'm just like damn dude...what was she cooking

if you're a writer and you haven't been tagged yet I tag YOU!!!

#i wrote a thing

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xviruserrorx · 3 years

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Whumptober Day 1 & Flufftober Day 6

@flufftober2021

Prompt(s): Alternate No.1 Losing control

"Fireman's Carry" (but altered slightly to) "carrying someone"

Fandom- BBC Merlin

Pairing(s)- Arthur & Mordred (platonic), Arthur & Merlin

Title- "You Were Right, I Was Wrong"

"Are we just people," he scoffed, "not even people, things you should fear?" Merlin looked on the verge of tears. He was hurt and frustrated at the moment he had waited to come for so long, only to be so disappointed by its outcome.

"Tell me that at least Arthur, do you fear us?"

Arthur shook his head, "Merlin, please-"

"And you know why he used his magic, Arthur?" Merlin interrupted. "To protect you."

"We may kill and hurt with our magic, but it's no different than your sword."

Continue reading below or here on AO3

"I don't need you to babysit me, Merlin," Arthur argued. As he tried to step around the warlock who was blocking him from leaving the camp.

Merlin scoffed. "No, I do enough of that on the daily already." He moved the same way Arthur did, not giving him a chance to escape past him.

"This is just your normal recklessness that's bound to happen." Merlin mirrored Arthur's steps again, leaving the King growing more and more agitated by the second.

"What's bound to happen, Merlin, is us not having firewood if you don't let me pass."

"No, what's bound to happen, Arthur, is you," Merlin pointed at Arthur, "doing something stupid and getting yourself killed."

Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm not gonna die, Merlin."

"Well, you seem to do it quite a lot."

"Well I wouldn't be standing here If I had, would I?" Arthur threw out his arms as if stating a point.

"You know how many times I've revived you from the dead?"

"What?!" Arthur's eyes widened.

"One too many times to be normal in fact."

"What's normal?" Daegal asked Mordred next to him. All of them tried to block out the bickering duo as they continued to set up camp.

Mordred shrugged his shoulders before he ruffled Daegal's hair and got back to the task at hand. Far too used to ignoring the back and forth arguing between Arthur and Merlin. In fact, everyone was far too used to it. Even the queen who was sitting, humming and trying to strike up a conversation with Freya.

"Remember that arrow?"

"I died?!" The king exclaimed.

Merlin froze as if thinking for a second before he answered unsurely, "Sorta?"

"And you're just telling me this now!?"

"Well!" Merlin waved his arms as if addressing the elephant in the room. Or that was previously in the room and now was out in the open. As magic had been used to save the once young prince's life.

"I knew I had an arrow in my back!"

Merlin scoffed, "kinda hard to miss a big protruding arrow, you prat."

"Oh, You little-"

"How about I go?" Mordred quickly stood up and interrupted before the two killed each other.

"Sword—magic," he gestures before letting his arms fall to his sides, "it'll take ten minutes at most. We'll scout out, get the firewood, and come back." He proposed. Merlin crossed his arms not looking convinced while Arthur, who looked still reluctant, was finer with Mordred tagging along than others.

Mordred sighed and rolled his eyes when Merlin didn't let up his gaze. "Either me or it looks like Arthur's going alone."

Merlin all but rolled his eyes before he threw up his arms, "Fine!"

"See now you have my seventeen-year-old knight babysitting me."

"Wouldn't have to if that seventeen-year-old knight wasn't smarter than you," Merlin mumbled under his breath.

"I beg your pardon-"

"It's getting dark Arthur," Mordred quickly put himself between the two men, "we need to go."

Arthur let up, quickly turning and marching away from the scene, sword drawn. All while Mordred let out a relieved breath from preventing another hour-long argument between the two men.

"Mordred," Merlin called his name, grabbing his attention as he spun back around.

"Keep him safe."

Mordred looked over his shoulder and grimaced, "He makes it quite hard."

"He's a stubborn prat, you know that."

"Mordred!"

He chuckled while Merlin rolled his eyes. "Go," Merlin gestured in the direction Arthur had gone, "and be careful."

"Always am." Mordred teased as he followed the path Arthur had taken and caught up to him. Merlin sighed as he watched the boy run off, hoping his words carried the smallest sliver of truth.

"What was that with Merlin?" Mordred asked while picking up some twigs as Arthur scouted the area some ways from the camp.

"What with Merlin?"

Mordred shrugged his shoulders, "dunno, you two always fight like a married couple-"

"We don't-"

Mordred gave him a pointed look. Arthur quickly stood down from his statement he couldn't defend as the boy was right.

"I just mean, it's been different between you two."

"I'm still me and Merlin is still Merlin as far as I'm concerned, Mordred." He poked at the greenery with his sword as Mordred picked up another couple of sticks.

"No, it's been like this since…" The event Arthur knew he was talking about hung heavy in the air. The night he found out the unimaginable of his best friend and many other people.

Arthur softened his voice, "I meant what I said, Mordred. Magic or what you believe doesn't make me care about any of you any less."

Mordred lowered his gaze and kicked at a rock, "doesn't change how you've been with Merlin."

Arthur sighed, "Mordred I-"

His voice paused as he heard a twig snap. Knowing it wasn't Mordred as the young man was still in one place, he turned towards the sound.

"What?"

He brought his finger to his lips, shushing him before gesturing in the direction of the sound. Mordred bent down and dropped the collected twigs before moving his hand to the hilt of his sword.

Another crack made them both dart around. Mordred drew his blade as he moved closer to Arthur. Both of them were now aware of the heavy presence that was all around them.

"Sire?" Mordred's voice barely made noise coming out of his mouth.

"We're surrounded," Arthur answered.

Another crack was all he needed before he placed his hand on Mordred's back. "Go." As soon as Mordred stepped back a step, rustling fallen leaves under his feet. All the hidden surrounding faces revealed themselves, charging at them.

"Run!"

Mordred ran in the first direction his body took him. Arthur a step behind him before they were both cut off by more bandits. His eyes landed on an open space that led deeper into the forest.

Arthur's hand quickly found Mordred again pushing him in front of him, "that way!"

The greenery guided them as his sword was raised to block the oncoming blades. Giving them both time to disappear behind rustling leaves and to jump over catching vines and fallen trees. His eyes glued to Mordred's back while simultaneously searching the oncoming sites for a place they could call safety for a minute.

His feet came to a halt, seeing an overgrowth big enough to hide behind for the two of them. Mordred caught on as he followed his gaze and then his steps before they were both had their backs pressed up a wall of nature.

He felt his hand tighten around the hilt of his sword. The many and hurried footsteps were almost frantic like a line of ants as they came in their deafening herd before disappearing. The silence was bliss to Arthur's ears as all he could hear was Mordred's and his own relieved exhale.

Arthur scoffed, "Well, this is going fantastic." Sarcasm etched his words as his grip loosened ever so slightly from his sword.

Mordred's own huff of breath accompanied with a small smile answered his words. What was supposed to be a quick trip of scouting and collecting firewood turned all more problematic than Arthur had expected. Though perhaps it was already that way before he had even left the camp...

"We should get back to the others." Mordred peaked around the overgrowth, making sure the faded footsteps were right rather than a trick.

Arthur nodded and sheathed his blade. "We'll go a different way back. We don't need these bandits following us."

"Are we gonna tell Merlin?" Mordred quickly sheathed his own blade while Arthur looked for the higher path that led just the same way.

"Tell Merlin what?" Arthur grabbed the above ledge, hoisting himself up.

Mordred shrugged his shoulders, "that he was right." He took a few steps back, before jumping up, Arthur grabbed his other hand to help him up.

Arthur scoffed, "I feel like his ego is already too big with the whole Emrys thing."

"For you to talk of Merlin and ego," Mordred muttered under his breath.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

Mordred's gaze met his only for it to quickly flicker down to his shoes. A sheepish look painted itself across his face.

Arthur moved to open his mouth, but the rustling caught his attention once again. He cursed under his breath before he reached for the hilt of his sword.

Time was not on their side as a bandit leapt from the foliage. Giving Arthur little open chance to unsheathed his sword and Mordred equally so as well.

"Mordred!" He could only watch as the sword was raised above the Druid, before it came down onto his shoulder, knocking Mordred off-balance to fall down from the ledge.

Arthur took the opportunity and pulled out his sword. With the bandit still recovering from the momentum into the ground, Arthur pinned it further into the ground and drove his sword through the man.

He yanked his sword free as the man tumbled to the ground, lifeless. Arthur immediately sheathed his sword as he jumped off the ledge to find Mordred who was leaned up against a tree. His face twisted in pain and his hand clamped over his shoulder where a bit of blood was seeping through.

There were hundreds of rapid footsteps and shouting in the distance that was closing in. Arthur didn't have time to dress his wound there.

"Can you stand?"

Arthur barely waited for an answer before he pulled Mordred to his feet. A yelp of pain surprised him as the Druid took his weight off of one of his legs.

"My ankle."

The nearing sound of the stampede of feet only grew louder, and his heart only beat faster with every second that passed.

"Come on." Arthur took most of Mordred's weight onto him as he tried to help him and find another way to get out of their situation.

"Over there." Mordred pointed into nothing lush greenery making Arthur think maybe he had hit his head as well on the fall down. "Behind the vines and everything, there's an entrance to a cave."

Arthur didn't have time with the impending footsteps to check for a head injury on the Druid, so he took his word for it. He made his way over and hesitantly pushed the branches and vines aside in one quick swipe. And much to his surprise found exactly what Mordred had said.

He helped Mordred through and into the tunnel more so to say than a cave till they reached the wall at the back. The quiet hum of everything, bliss to his ears as he helped Mordred sit and knelt next to him.

"How did you know this place?"

Mordred lips curled up into a small smile, "I used to live at a camp as a child around these areas, we would come to play in here."

Arthur's thoughts were interrupted before he even had a chance to voice them by shouting commands and the drudged footsteps. The oncoming march of death or war, loud pounding steps as an announcement of what was to come.

He met Mordred's gaze as a distant in here was shouted.

"Stay down."

He stood up in front of Mordred and drew his sword once again. The motion was almost like Deja Vu, only Mordred had been much smaller and they knew help was coming. This time more than twenty men were running towards them and no one knew they were in trouble.

Mordred knew even Arthur couldn't handle that many men. He would be overwhelmed very quickly and they would kill him because they wanted them dead. If his shoulder was anything to tell by their wanted actions.

"Arthur?"

"Just stay down, Mordred." Arthur's words tried to provide comfort even though it wasn't okay. There were only two of them and Mordred was hurt, against more than twenty men.

Arthur's hand loosened and tightened around the hilt of his blade as he saw them finally appear as well as the bandits finally seeing them. The steps that were a paced walk quickly picked up into a sprint.

Mordred felt his breaths catch in his throat and become rapid and heavy all at once. Arthur would die. There was no doing anything to prevent it.

He could only watch as the bandits grew near and raised their weapons to strike. As if everything came to a pause for a brief second before the strike. Arthur's own blade raised from his side ready for a pointless notion.

Mordred couldn't watch. His hands flew to his ears as his eyes screwed shut.

"No!"

Arthur's blade sliced through the air as every person raging towards them was thrown back against the tunnel walls. All of them laid flaccid on the floor like discarded play dolls.

He froze for a second before he realized what had actually happened. His sword clanged to the floor as he turned around to face Mordred. Who was worse off than him, with nothing but panic in his eyes and struggling to calm his breathing.

"Hey," he got down to Mordred's side, "you're okay, we're both okay, alright?"

Mordred's eyes flickered to the damage done to the tossed bodies across the floor of the cave. "I'm sorry."

"No, hey You kept us safe, " He grabbed Mordred's attention to him. "That's what you always say your magic is for right?"

Mordred nodded his head but his facade was anything but calm or collected. Still shaken up with breaths coming quickly.

Arthur managed a sympathetic smile. "Come here, Mordred." He pulled him into his embrace, Mordred accepted the gesture as arms quickly wrapped around Arthur's neck.

They both stayed like that for a few seconds before Mordred pulled back with soft-spoken words on his tongue.

"Are they dead?" There wasn't hope in his voice for the words spoken but fear.

"Let me check."

Arthur got up and walked over to the nearest person among the many thrown people. Limbs frivolously placed where they had landed on impact.

But Arthur could hardly believe that with just a simple scared screamed word, Mordred was able to do all that. With intention or without, Arthur didn't know, usually leaving the magical business to Morgana and Merlin. Yet the warning of Mordred's magic to him still looped in his head of Merlin's words.

He bent down, placing his fingers to the pulse point of one man. The drumming pulse was there, they were still alive, just knocked unconscious.

Arthur hated the surprise he felt at the realisation of life rather than Death. He expected death because magic was at use.

Did he associate everything with magic to death? Good and bad all the same, when in a contradicted regard, he was the bad of it. For death had always been caused by his and his father's hand when it came to magic, not the magic users themselves.

Magic itself was never good or bad, no such thing existed. For even if there was no beating pulse beneath the pads of his fingers, to call Mordred bad for being scared and protecting himself. It would have once been many years ago, but not now.

Even at the sight as he looked back over to the boy, hurt and still shaken up huddled in the corner of the cave. He should be scared of Mordred, his magic, told to Arthur of its strengths that even Merlin and the Druids who raised Mordred were unsure of.

To be scared of a boy who was more scared than him made Arthur sick. His own fathers fear led to countless and hypocritical deaths of the innocent.

Arthur swallowed hard before he nodded his head towards Mordred. He saw as the relief washed over him, death never once being Mordred's intention.

"We should move from here soon." Arthur got up, and made his way back over to Mordred, "I don't know how long they'll stay out for."

Mordred's hand was still covering his bleeding shoulder that Arthur had yet to see the taken damage. "Let me see." He grimaced when Mordred flinched at his poking and prodding to the wound.

He reached down to his tunic, tearing off a section before he wrapped and tied it off to stop some of the bleeding. Merlin would be mad at him later for that...

"Come on, let's try getting you up."

Mordred nodded before Arthur grabbed his non-injured arm and helped get him to his feet. Only to quickly catch him again, as a sharp inhale escaped his mouth followed by a suppressed gasp of pain.

"I got you."

Mordred shook his head, "I'm okay." He pushed himself away from Arthur only to almost collapse again.

Arthur grabbed him, not wanting to put up with Mordred pretending he wasn't in serious pain, he quickly guided him back to the floor.

Arthur sighed, "Not fooling me, Kid."

Mordred let out an airy laugh before grimacing in pain again. His hand came back up to his shoulder that was jolted from him laughing.

"It'll be okay." Arthur let his hand rest lightly on Mordred's leg.

Though he hardly believed his own words because all in reality, nothing of anything was anywhere near okay...

~*~

Merlin and Freya's laughtered filled the air as they both helped prepare supper. All the others all spread out doing the same around the camp to help out.

"Oh, your mother's lovely." Freya said as she caught her breath, nothing but adoration in her voice. "She even gets the King of Camelot to help out."

Merlin chuckled, "Arthur isn't scared of many things but apparently my mother is one of those few things."

He collected all the cleaned picked ingredients into the bowl, grabbing the ones from Will and Freya as well before he walked over to the others. Handing the bowl off to Guinevere and Morgana who were doing the actual cooking.

He stole a couple berries from the younger ones who were separating those from their stems as he passed by. Earning playful glares and eye rolls before he ruffled Daegal's hair and made his way back over to the other two.

Well at least he tried to make his way back over to them. The sudden dizzying and dooming feeling hit him as everything pulsated for a split second.

He staggered forward and grabbed onto the nearest tree for support. The all too familiar feel of Mordred's magic and the sound of a scared yell pounded in his head.

He took his hand to his head as Freya came to his side concerned, "Are you okay?"

"Merlin?" Will's voice followed. The lively ness of the camp slowly faded out to his ears, each voice dropped one by one and was replaced with concerned silence.

"Arthur and Mordred." Merlin quickly got out. Swallowing as his mouth had gone dry, and his heart sped up upon the realization what those two things usually meant when he heard them.

"They're still not back." Sefa provided to his evident worry.

He shook his head harshly,"I think Mordred's hurt." He pushed past everyone and collected his bag. "We need to find them."

Worried glances passed from person to person. Gilli and Morgana both stood up, the same as Kara rushed to his possible notion.

"What do you mean, hurt?" Kara demanded. Merlin, hardly given room to argue with the rather intimidating young girl, didn't immediately answer. All while Daegal, Eoghan, Sefa, Lamia Drea, and Gilli all waited in equal request for his answer.

He sighed, "I don't know, I felt his magic."

"He could've just used it for something?" Daegal half asked and stated.

Merlin shook his head. "This was different. I need to hurry."

"I'm coming." Gilli stepped forward.

"No," Merlin immediately shot down his request, "you're staying here."

"Merlin!"

"We don't need anyone else hurt."

"Gilli." Will quickly called the boy before he moved to argue with Merlin some more.

"Then I'm coming with." Morgana grabbed her sword from where it had been plunged into the ground.

Merlin sighed only because he knew he couldn't argue with Morgana, "Fine."

"Will-"

Will waved his hand, brushing him off, "Keep everyone safe, yeah I know."

All while his other hand was clasped on Gilli's shoulder, keeping the boy next to him and not from running off somewhere into danger. "Now go save your King and the kid."

Merlin nodded before looking to Morgana who was already off to find the two Merlin hopped hadn't gotten themselves into too much trouble.

~*~

Arthur sighed, "You know I'm never gonna hear the end of this from, Merlin." He said to the boy he was currently giving a piggyback ride to. Mordred was in too much pain and Arthur equally felt guilty and didn't want him to walk on the injured foot, so the next option, it was.

"Good."

"Not helping, Mordred." He adjusted his hands under Mordred's legs. He was light enough to carry for Arthur, even less with the absence of his chainmail and armour. Arthur almost was worried how thin the boy was as with chainmail he could easily lift Mordred as well.

"Merlin isn't his ego, he leads with his heart. All he wants is to keep you safe."

"He worries." Arthur felt the back of his neck get tickled by Mordred's hair as he laid his head down on him.

"Well, I'm very capable of keeping myself safe. Arthur heard and felt the forced huff of breath from Mordred on the back of his neck.

"With the occasional help."

Mordred scoffed, "He knows that. Just the same as you now know Merlin is more than capable of keeping himself safe."

Arthur grimaced. If only things had been different and Merlin had shown his magic earlier, he wouldn't have been hurt or beaten on. Magic was his weapon and the only weapon he had, but because of things. He couldn't use it to keep himself safe.

"Yet you still push him behind you, out of danger; You still search for him at any given moment during a battle; Your first action is to put yourself in front of him even though he's the one with immortality." Mordred continued.

"It's chivalry, code of a knight," Arthur stated. More so an excuse for his actions.

Mordred lightly shook his head, "It's called caring. But you're afraid to admit it. You think it makes people weak."

"Emotions," Arthur carefully stepped over a rocky path, "cloud judgement."

"No, they just mean you have a heart and a good sense of judgement. If emotions are such pitiful things, what right do they have to persecute judgement?"

Mordred's arms lightly tightened around Arthur's neck as his foot slipped off of a rock. A small whimper escaped his mouth from the strain on his shoulder.

"And is that the same reason why you're carrying me right now?"

Arthur stopped and sighed. The path was too rocky and slippery with mud from the days previous of fallen rain. Every jolt and slip of his step hurt Mordred, and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Let's take a break." He announced. He found a clear spot and set down Mordred before he sat down at his side facing him.

Arthur took a breath and started with his voice soft and low, "Mordred-"

"Forgive me," Mordred quickly apologized, "I'm out of line." He held Arthur's gaze as he said his words before quickly dropping it to his hands in his lap.

Arthur shook his head, "No, you're right… as always." It seemed more frequently Arthur began to realise he was more in the wrong than the people who were actually right all along.

"I do care about you, Mordred."

A soft smile appeared on Mordred's lips, "I know."

Arthur lightly shook his head, "More than you could know."

"And the thing with Merlin," he continued, "I-"

"Mordred! Arthur!"

Both of their heads shot up as Merlin's and Morgana's voices echoed through the space around them. Their names were called out in the faint distance, but close enough that they could hear.

Arthur ruffled Mordred's hair before he got up and called as loud as he could, "We're here!"

Soon enough both sorcerers were visible in the distance as they neared and picked up their pace. Both of them were filled with worry as they only saw Arthur at first before quickly seeing Mordred sitting on the ground behind him.

"Are you both okay?"

Merlin immediately pulled Mordred into his embrace, startling the boy. Morgana did the same thing as Merlin pulled away both of them acting in fear of what they thought of the worse and fretting over the boy.

"Oh, Everything's fine and dandy, Merlin." Arthur started, "Just my normal daily attempted assassination."

"I wish you were wrong." He mumbled under his breath.

Arthur's eyes widened before he shook his head, Mordred being hurt his priority right now rather than another assassination story that would surely end in Merlin saving his neck.

"Mordred, his ankle." He pointed before he dropped his head into his hand and took a deep breath.

"How did you hurt your ankle?" Morgana still was fretting over him while Merlin started to check the condition of his ankle.

"When we were running," Mordred answered.

"Running?" Morgana questioned.

Arthur sighed, "Long story…."

"You've been gone all but thirty minutes!" Merlin exclaimed.

"A lot happened in those thirty minutes, okay?"

Mordred stifled a chuckle at the three arguing. As if Merlin and Arthur weren't bad already but throwing Morgana in was like fanning the flame.

Merlin sighed, "it doesn't seem broken, so that's good."

"Can you stand?"

They saw the look that was exchanged between Arthur and Mordred. Mordred almost going to say yeah to brush off the injury again but Arthur quickly gave him a stern look of don't even try.

Merlin chuckled, "I'll take that as a no."

"I'm fine." Mordred tried to argue.

"No, you're not Mordred." Morgana agreed with Arthur's glare that said it all.

Arthur sighed, "Can't you just magically heal it?" He waved his hands aimlessly at the topic

"When we get back to the camp." Merlin said, "There may be more bandits coming."

Arthur caught his gaze. Merlin had seen the cave of discarded, knocked out men. He knew they had gotten themselves into trouble and could have possibly died.

Arthur quickly looked away from Merlin's glare. Something akin to guilt pounding on his chest of everything that had been done and said that very eventful day. He tried to ignore it as he made his way to pick Mordred back up so they could make their way back to the camp. "Come on, kid."

"Oh, you would carry Mordred so gently." Morgana teased as he got him settled and they began to walk.

"What are you on about?"

"When you had slung me over your shoulder when I had hurt my ankle." Morgana reminded him.

"That's because you're annoying."

"Oh, I'm the annoying one?"

"Yes, you are," Arthur confirmed. "Have been since you were five."

Morgana scoffed, "You didn't know me at five!"

"Exactly, I just know."

They both looked back at Mordred when a small airy laugh came from his way. The Druid ducked his head and laid it down on Arthur. The King, about to say something when he saw Morgana's amused and fond smile but ultimately decided not to.

"You don't have anything to say, Merlin?" Morgana asked the warlock who had been more silent than usual the whole time.

He shrugged his shoulders in his usual manner of having a lot to say but not saying it.

"Come on, spit it out."

"Don't worry Merlin, I'm not gonna die, I don't need a babysitter, Merlin. Stop over exaggerating Merlin." Merlin mocked. His tone growing harsher as he continued.

"Well, I didn't die."

He regretted his words immediately as Merlin stopped and turned around. A hurt look of disbelief stared right at Arthur, telling him he had messed up.

Merlin scoffed and shook his head, "Whatever, Arthur." He quickly walked ahead at a faster pace.

Arthur groaned as he received that all-knowing look from Morgana. The same look that he would get from across halls in heated arguments with his father or when he would become out of line with other nobles. He hated that look and Morgana knew it too.

She gave a gesture of her head towards the direction Merlin took off in before she sped up in pace too.

"I think you're in trouble." He heard Mordred's soft voice.

It was teasing all without being teasing as Mordred did indeed know Arthur was in trouble with Merlin. But he'd rather entertain the idea of letting Arthur come to that conclusion himself. Being around both men enough to know when they were ready to cut each other's heads off or explode on one another.

He understood the situations and how to make them better. Arthur and Merlin unfortunately both knew this. Groaning when Mordred just shrugged his shoulders at their demands. Instead, he taunted them with his vague words and guiding questions.

Arthur sighed, "I think I am too, Mordred."

~*~

Fretting from everybody was hard to avoid, especially as Arthur tried to reassure Gwen everything was fine. Then the worrying expressions that were on Mordred as the Druid tried to bring relief to those as well.

Though earlier conversations still played on Arthur's mind, especially after what happened on the trip back to camp.

He took his courage to approach Merlin from where the man was sitting and staring at the campfire. Both of them had not even shared a gaze or a single word since they made it back.

"Hey." Merlin's attention shot to him as he sat down beside him.

"Is he okay?" He gestured over to where Mordred was sitting and laughing with Kara, Sefa and all of them

"Yeah," Merlin quickly dismissed it, "something a little magic can't fix."

He nodded his head in acknowledgement, though Merlin's gaze was on the fire and anywhere but him. Arthur swallowed as he looked around before getting the courage to speak.

"Merlin I-"

"Don't." Merlin cut him off. His voice was short, not wanting to hear anything Arthur had to say.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

Merlin shook his head, "I'm not upset."

"Then what's wrong?" Arthur exclaimed. "I'm still trying to get used to this magic thing."

Merlin scoffed, "That's the understatement of the decade."

"Merlin," Arthur's tone begged at his words, "this is all new to me." Merlin's eyes flickered to him before back to fire as he tossed another stick in.

"Even back there," he continued, "Mordred he-"

"Can kill hundreds of people with as little as a blink of an eye?" Merlin questioned, with faux innocence and mirth in his voice.

"Not one of those men was dead, Arthur."

Having stumbled upon that place first, he put two and two together. The use of Mordred's magic he felt, combined with the many unconscious bandits all added up.

"Unconscious and injured maybe but not dead."

"I know-"

"But do you, Arthur!?" Merlin snapped. He grimaced as he turned and saw some of the others who looked their way.

Arthur didn't reply, only waited as Merlin took a deep breath before he carried on.

"Is everything you see bad or wrong when you look at any one of us? When you look at Mordred?" He gestures over to the boy who was laughing at something said. While Merlin was all but begging to know all of what Arthur thought and felt.

"And today," he continued, "what you saw today was just a small scratch on the surface of his magic."

"Tell me that at least Arthur, do you fear us?"

Arthur shook his head, "Merlin, please-"

"And you know why he used his magic, Arthur?" Merlin interrupted. "To protect you."

Arthur almost tried not to believe it but he knew it was the truth. Mordred no doubt, having even put his own life on the line for Arthur's would do something as just use what he was born with.

"We may kill and hurt with our magic, but it's no different than your sword."

Merlin took in a deep breath, trying to catch it back from anger while Arthur took every word said to him. He fought between leaving the man beside him and staying, a choice that would decide so much to come.

But he stayed. Allowing both of them to wallow in silence with their thoughts and feelings of everything but in the company of each other. For their external quarrel might have been with each other, but the buried truth was now lying on the surface, waiting to be snatched away.

"Merlin," he started after enough time had passed that he regained his voice, "I'm trying." He pleaded, though known not much of a kingly action as to plead to a servant. But Merlin wasn't a servant, he was magic and more importantly his friend.

"I know," came the weak reply. "I am too."

Arthur sighed, "I'm sorry, Merlin."

Merlin's head whipped towards him, shock written over every inch of his face. His eyes dancing back and forth frantic across Arthur's own expression trying to find a hint of something—anything that wasn't the remorse the King held.

"I'm truly sorry." He continued.

"I have to accept your apology then," Merlin said, a hint of his own sarcasm and jesting returning to his words.

Arthur lightly scoffed, "You don't have to." He shook his head.

"You're allowed to be frustrated, angry, annoyed even with me."

Merlin pushed out a breath. "Glad that's settled then."

At the realization of what Merlin meant by his words Arthur chuckled, "suppose I deserve that."

Merlin managed a small smile. Annoyed was one word he could use to describe how he felt towards Arthur sometimes.

Arthur smiled at seeing a grin on Merlin's face for the first time that day. Even if anger or frustration had to come first and had been aimed towards him. Now, keeping his normal smile upon its place was all that mattered.

"You're my friend, Merlin," Arthur stated. "Last thing I want is to hurt you."

Merlin seemed at a loss for words. His mouth opened and closed before he finally just nodded his head. He looked down

Arthur nudged him."Not gonna start crying on me are you?" He teased.

Merlin gave an airy laugh, "No."

Though in the short time that followed, a sniffle was heard. Followed by another and Merlin wiping his nose.

"Something in the air." Merlin tried to excuse his sniffling and glossed over eyes. Something Arthur wasn't buying one bit but let it slip.

"Of course," He replied. Pretending not to hear the sniffling and Merlin clear his throat after.

Though Merlin said nothing as Arthur reached over and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. Neither did Arthur, hardly acknowledging the action himself. Only looking back towards Merlin when he slightly ducked his head.

In turn, Arthur caught the smile Mordred was looking over at them both with. Merlin, too busy pretending to not be crying to notice. But Arthur returned the smile and nodded his head. Telling Mordred that everything was okay once again, even if another argument was had and another set of apologies was to be said in the future. At that moment everything was once again okay.

"Well come on." Arthur pulled back his hand and leaned back against the tree behind them.

"Tell me about it."

"It?" Merlin questioned.

"Magic. You apparently."

Merlin scoffed, "Not much greatness as everyone makes it out to be."

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "I've heard differently."

"You already know me," Merlin said as if there wasn't so much Arthur still didn't know about him. As the part that made Merlin him, was kept from him out of understandable fear for many years.

"I do know my bumbling, clumsy, buffoon of a manservant." He playfully pushed Merlin lightly to let him know he was joking around.

"But," he continued, "I also know a kind, caring, wise, and brave man."

"Who also happens to be magic himself," Arthur said all in one breath making Merlin laugh.

"So?" Arthur questioned.

Merlin hesitated. Grabbing his bottom lip between his teeth before it slipped as his facade broke out into a smile. Arthur, of all people, was asking about his magic; and not just his magic but him.

"Well…" Merlin started. Beaming as he got into the stories he started to tell Arthur from small little mishaps to things unimaginable.

While Arthur listened all while not listening. Too busy seeing the excitement that Merlin held for such topics even if he didn't understand one shred of it. But he entertained the topics when Merlin looked over at him with a wide smile and a hidden request for confirmation.

Even if words and actions were still second-guessed. He knew the people all there he cared for. The man beside him, his wife and sister, and the many other people he met along the way thanks to Merlin. He had grown to care for them all. Even if it had been destiny's evil plan or just the opposite of it. In the end, everything turned out just okay.

#whumptober #whumptober2021 #day 1 #altno.1 #losing control #flufftober2021 #day 6 #carrying #bbc merlin #mordred #sir mordred #arthur pendragon #merlin #yes this is very late for whumptober I know #lets just say their was an incident #so i'm barely getting around to posting and formatting all my writings... sorry bout that #fanfic #virusfanfic

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thehollowprince · 4 years

Text

The Mountain of Ghosts

Another week, another episode. This one dealt with a topic that I know has been on the fandom's mind since the end of season four, so let's just dive into this.

Alice and Eliot - obviously the big part of the episode. This has been on everyone's mind since season one and the possibility of Queliot was a thing. It's been a constant back and forth, one or the other, situation since, and sadly, we all know where most of the fandom landed on that issue. This was a good episode that got to the crux of the issue here, that being Quentin. Not Alice's or Eliot's feelings toward Quentin but rather his feelings toward them.

For years I've stood here and watched the constant screeching of "Quentin loved Eliot more!" or more rarely, (seriously, very rarely), "Quentin loved Alice more!" It got to the point where I firmly believed, and still believe, that it wasn't a matter of actually caring about Quentin at all. I'm not saying that no one actually liked Q, but that was secondary to the main issue of which ship would win in the end. Shipping is a big thing in fandom, but what no one really ever wants to admit is that it's also a big problem in fandom, in that ship wars happen and all some people seem to care about is the validation that comes with watching their ship set sail or another ship sink. That's all I'm going to say about that right now, because honestly the problem with shipping in fandom is a whole other topic waiting to be made, but its relevant to this issue, so let's move on.

Alice and Eliot both loved Quentin, and whether anyone wants to admit it or not, he loved both of them back. It isn't a matter of saying he loved either one of them more, or which one was more valid because no one loves two different people in the same way. Some of the things that Quentin loved about Alice aren't the same things he would have loved about Eliot. And this episode really highlighted that. Eliot and Alice are about as different as you can get, especially when it comes to romance. They both had different approaches to their relationship with Q, and I'm so glad we got to see them resolve their differences. We finally got to see Eliot say to someone else that he and Q loved each other, and have Alice not only acknowledge it but embrace it. She said it best, "what was I going to do? Demand he be less complicated? That he only love one person?" Too often Alice is reduced to this one-dimensional girl who is only defined by her relationship with Quentin, especially by fandom, and this really broke that mold. This was a nice episode for the two of them, to work through their anger and to work together to let go of Quentin... to acknowledge that they couldn't save him. I hope this bond between the two of them keeps building through the rest of the season.

PS: please let Alice wear jeans and pants more often. She looked so much more comfortable than she does in those fetish school girl dresses.

Moving on...

Margo - I'm not sure how I feel about this whole "reclaiming the throne" thing she's got going on. I loved Margo winning the throne by her own merit back in season three, because it worked in that moment. And then last year we had her abandon the throne to save Eliot. When push came to shove, she valued one person over the duty she had as a king to her people. I'm not faulting her for that, because I understand where she was coming from, but she still gave up the throne and it paved the way for Fen to assume the throne.

I can only speak for me, but I thought that was beautiful. Having a Fillorian finally sit on the throne of Fillory felt like a major milestone, and now we're just supposed to believe that Margo gets to be the king because she said so? I didn't like that. That's one of Margo's negative character traits, her entitlement, which brings us to...

Fen - I do not like what they're doing with her so far this season. Who is the sycophantic woman? She admired Margo, of course, but not to the extent of idol worship. This is a woman who was part of the F.U. Fighters, fighting for Fillorian rights in a kingdom always ruled by outsiders. But then the moment Margo's not there, she turns into this incompetent moron, so much so that she and Josh were overthrown because they were waiting for someone else to save them, and I don't like that. That is a complete disservice to the character and the journey she's been on for the previous three seasons.

Also, this whole Josh thing that's going to come between these two women, who have had such respect for each other, leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I was one of those (probably the only) who was rooting for Josh and Margo. Were there things I would have changed about it? Of course, but I thought they worked well together and off of one another, and now we have this bullshit. I liked Josh, not just because we shared the same name, but because he was an interesting character that people, especially women, seemed to like, not because of his appearance but because of his personality. And now they've turned him into a quintessential Nice Guy™ who sleeps with his girlfriend's friend instead of figuring out a way to save themselves and Fillory.

I will say that it'll be interesting to see how Fen and Margo repair their friendship after that revelation that Margo legitimately tried to kill her, if they repair it at all.

As for everyone else...

Julia - I know we're working up to something with her and the big catastrophe, so I'm gonna let her lack of a role these past two episodes aside from support slide.

Penny - I really would like to see more of Professor Adoyodi, aside from just him doing research for class. Also, it's sad that they had him mention that "best case scenario for Travelers" is that they just become an Uber for their friends, only to have Julia ask him for a lift...

Like, y'all wrote it, maybe you should pay more attention to it!

And then there's Kady and Fogg. The Magicians is so different then other ensemble shows in that they actually use the ensemble! That being said, characters like Fogg and Kady often end up on the side because, while they're deemed primary characters, they feel more like secondary or tertiary ones. I know I'm not the only one interested in what's going on with the Hedge Witches, but we don't see Kady and what's going on with them unless one of the other "mains" needs something, usually some secret Hedge spell or Kady's fist. Same with Fogg. Brakebills was such a cornerstone for this show, and while the mains left the school (didn't graduate, just left) the institution plays a major role still, as a location if nothing else. Add to that the fact that Penny is a professor there now, and I'd espect to see more of it.

Lastly... the Dark King.

Not to toot my horn or anything, but I'm pretty damn good at predicting turns and plot twists. I can usually spot a villain or antagonist the moment I see them, but that wasn't the case here. Granted, in hindsight I should have seen in with how he was introduced, but I was so stuck on the idea that I "knew" who the Dark King was that I couldn't entertain the possibility that I would be wrong. Though, to be fair, he did have a line about illusion magic, so there's a chance I might still be right. All of that being said, it did feel a little like a cop out. All of our other villains and antagonists have been hinted long before their big reveal, and just having a completely new character shown up and go "Surprise, bitch! I'm the dark king" feels a little off to me. We'll just have to wait and see.

All in all, I'd give this episode a rating of 7.5 out of 10. I know I complained a lot, and that's because, aside from Eliot and Alice's arc, the rest of the episode felt kind of lackluster to me. Here's hoping we pick up the pace the rest of the season.

#josh watches the magicians #the magicians meta #the magicians #spoilers #s5e3: the mountain of ghosts

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migleefulmoments · 4 years

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Just my opinion, but I think you can privately think a ship is cute or would be cute in real life while acknowledging that it IS just a fantasy and that it will never happen. Also there is a difference between keeping stuff like that more private and spouting off about it on Tumblr under a public profile. I think it's a little divisive to say that all people who like a ship are bad people, especially if they do live in reality and know it'll never happen and keep it largely to themselves.

The way I look at it- if you are fantasizing about a ship in private but know that it just a fantasy you aren’t really tinhatting-just shipping. If you keep it private then you aren’t hurting anyone. It’s the public tinhatting that is so dangering- It leads to wildly outrageous theories shared amongst themselves that go off the rails very quickly and never return. It also leads to the bullying of both the principals and their partners. It isn’t just Abby and co, it’s every tinhatting fandom I’ve seen. They are relentless, mean, abusive, bullies who can’t be told their wrong- ccers believe that Darren and Chris having no contact is proof they are a couple and Will is the macaroni and cheese that proves they are going strong. Everything they see is confirmation bias and that is part of what makes them so dangerous. Nothing will change their mines- Abby said that even if Darren told her that he was in love with Mia she wouldn't believe him. That kind of cancerous thought process is dangerous because not only does it lead to the embolden behavior that leads to so many people believing it’s ok to openly criticize Mia on Darren’s social media 5 years after Glee ended and Chris and Darren spent more than 5 minutes together at one single Halloween party. The cancerous thought processes that keep tinhatters believing their own bullshit doesn’t stay within their tinhatting- it flows to other parts of their lives until they no longer know how to trust facts or the truth and we end up with Trumpians and Flat Earthers. Nadiacreek wrote this excellent explanation of how insidious and dangerous tinhatting is

myklaineisperfect asked:

With all due respect miss but there’s a difference between conspiracy theory and speculation. I feel really sorry for people who never question things and always take everything at face value because they usually are not the sharpest from the bunch. I don’t hate people who support Chris-Will/Darren-Mia’s relationship. I just avoid them at all cost. But there’s one thing I really hate, I hate people who hate someone because of what he/she ships. That’s it!

Okay, look, I am going to say this ONCE, because I did not come looking for this fight, all I did was leave a simple comment on a post written by a friend who generally agrees with me about these things. I almost never engage the real-life shipping wars, but if you think you can silence people who disagree with you by coming into their inboxes and insulting them, you have got another thing coming.

The personal lives of celebrities are none of your business and should be none of your concern beyond what they choose to share. If you spend large chunks of your mental energy trying to prove that a celebrity–any celebrity, of any sexuality–is dating B when he or she claims to be dating A, then you have misplaced priorities in your life. It is not a fun, harmless game. It is a dark mindset that fosters negativity toward the celebrity you claim to support and the people they love in their real lives. These are not objects or pawns in a game. These are real flesh-and-blood people with feelings, and the culture you create is anything but invisible to them. Even if you are not one of the ones tweeting at them, you are giving support and encouragement to those who do.

And it’s not harmless to you, either. You’re creating a mental world for yourself where you believe that people have to hide and feel ashamed when in real life, there is no reason for them to do so. The world you think you see does not exist. You are denying a reality that is obvious and that gets more and more evidence with every passing day. You are tricking yourself into seeing patterns that are not there, by obsessing over small details and ignoring a mound of evidence for the opposite, true conclusion. That kind of thing can and will pour over into areas of your life that do matter. Denying reality in any area of the world is a dangerous game that can and will impact the rest of your life.

Darren and Chris do not need fans to “support” their personal lives, in the sense of encouraging, celebrating, or obsessing over them. They want to live their personal lives in peace. They are completely open about who they are dating – Darren is dating Mia, and Chris is dating Will – and they share glimpses of that sometimes, in the form of photos, acknowledgements, joint travel with their partners, polite words to fans, and so forth. The reaction they want is a smile and a click of the like button, just the way your friend from seventh grade does when he posts a picture of himself with his girlfriend on Facebook. That is it. That is the whole, entire thing.

Consider, for a moment, what evidence would convince you that Chris and Darren are not and have never been dating. What could either of them say or do that would convince you that the entire thing was imaginary and never happened? An outright denial by both of them? Marriage to other people? The two of them never seen hanging out together after Glee? If you can’t think of anything at all that would have the power to convince you that your theory is wrong, what you have is not an evidence-backed theory, it’s a religious belief.

Stop kidding yourself that you’re smarter than other people. You’re not smarter. You’re denying reality, ignoring evidence, and conveniently forgetting the importance of Occam’s Razor.

Crisscolfer is a fiction. If you think it is real, you are wrong. Go back, start from square one, and just drop it. It is wrong, it is harmful, and I have no tolerance for it. End of story.

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lokilickedme · 6 years

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Hello My Lady! Just because you asked, here are my faves of yours: #1 King (no surprise here), #2 Jack (too crazy not to love, and the stream crossing of pretty much all your stories is genius) #3 Chem/BD/TTW/TKH/TWK/can't remember them all. They're all special in their own way! Can't believe it'll be 3yrs soon since I started squatting your page!!! God time goes by fast! I'd like to add a special mention for the Muse Meetings, sooo funny, and a Golden Snowflake to Aleks. Cute little bumkin.

Thank you @fudgemuffinanon! Dear god, has it been that long? Seems like I joined up last year…*sits here blinking at my posts from 2015, wondering how that happened*

**LONG TEXT POST COMING UP**

You drew the lucky straw today my darling, I’m feeling wordy and in the mood to share. A lot of people have asked me over the last couple of years how some of my stuff came about, and you mentioned one that gets a lot of asks.

Lemme tell you something about the Muse Meetings. Way back in 1998 when I got my first computer, one of the very first things I ran across by way of internet fanfiction was a little something called The Very Secret Diaries penned by a writer named Cassandra Claire (who is now professionally published under the name Cassandra Clare). The Very Secret Diaries (which are hilarious, btw) woke something up in me - mainly because, as a lifelong writer who had never allowed anyone to read 95% of my work, I finally realized that yeah, there were other people out there whose brains deviated from the standard in the same way mine did. Her writing style back then (in the Diaries specifically, I’ve never actually read anything else she’s written) was very similar to the way I wrote, and those Diaries were exactly the sort of silly, ridiculous, irreverent thing I’d scribbled in my notebooks for most of my life. And people liked it, she had a huge following based on just those out-of-context glimpses of her characters’ personal thoughts. She was writing behind the scenes thoughts of characters, things that would never make it into books, and it was brilliant. That was the kind of stuff I loved to write but had never given myself permission to show anyone. She was showing hers to people, and they were loving it.

Which gave me the inspiration to not only put my work out there in the public eye for the first time ever, but to stick with my personal writing style (which I’d always assumed wasn’t what other people wanted to read, based on the books I’d been exposed to most of my life). Not change anything. Just do me. And doing me meant writing silly nonsense if I wanted to.

So - The Very Secret Diaries are more or less the inspiration for the Muse Meetings, or at least the official written version of them. I’d always imagined dialogues with my characters outside the confines of whatever story I was working on, but never thought anyone else would be interested in seeing me write it out.

The Diaries made me realize different. Not only were her characters yammering and complaining and snarking at each other (both out of character and in), they were doing it in exactly the way I’d imagined my own characters interacting in the real world. I loved it. Seeing someone else do what I’d always done in my head - and do it in an official, out-there-in-the-public-eye capacity, was a revelation. Finally I was able to give myself permission to write the way I wanted to, without restricting myself to the styles and methods in the books in the family library. It had always been in my head, but now it didn’t have to stay there. I could write proper stories, but I could also write what was going on in the other room, where the reader seldom gets to peek. And other people besides myself might like it because hey, there’s precedent.

That was freeing, and I am grateful to Ms Claire for that.

So, a little history that leads up to how and why I finally started writing out the Muse Meetings:

My first fandoms that I wrote for online were Harry Potter and Star Wars (Kenobi specifically). And yes, way back then (late 90′s - early 2000′s) there were already muse meetings among my characters. I’ve been doing these for a long time, and I wish the out-of-character stuff I’d written back then still existed (my HP stuff bit the dust when The Restricted Section shut down, and my SW stuff was on FF.net for a little while but honestly I don’t remember my user ID there or the titles of the fics, though I have searched…so they’re most likely lost as well). It’s sort of a shame because there were some old Anakin/Obi-Wan muse meetings that you guys would have loved…and the stuff between Remus and Sirius while we were hashing out what was going to be in their next chapter? It still pains me that it’s all lost, but maybe it’s for the best. That was nearly two decades ago, we move on to bigger and (hopefully) better things.

After my urge to write HP fic fizzled out I stopped writing for a while, but there were always muse meetings going on in my head for stories I scribbled mentally. To me they’ve always been more fun than the actual stories, which explains my love for gag reels and behind-the-scenes featurettes for movies (I watch those first, always).

And then I found AO3 - funnily enough, I discovered it while searching the internet for one of my lost HP fics - and I decided to start writing in earnest again. With all those thousands and thousands of fics and endless fandoms, it seemed like the perfect place to indulge my need to share what went on in my head. And as I settled into the MCU and my stories started to grow to include multitudes of characters, those impromptu staff meetings with my muses kept being called to order. Stuff that my characters would never say in the context of their stories got said. Scenarios that were too ridiculous to waste time writing were played out. Arguments and fights and bantering between characters who, in the restrictive confines of their own tales, would never in a million years interact…now they were throwing poptarts at each other (and occasionally knives) while the side characters wandered out of the room to watch TV or raid the fridge or sat in horror as someone’s until-now unassuming wife brandished a melon baller as a weapon.

It was messy and fun and was by far my favorite part of the writing process.

That’s what eventually became the Muse Meetings. You want to know how they escaped my head and became an official thing?

Well I’m gonna tell ya lol

One of my very first friends in here, the fantastic @elvenfair1, was one of my first readers at AO3 and she told me I should post links to my fics at this site called tumblr to bring in a bigger audience. So I opened an account here, followed her, posted some links as suggested, and she and I began messaging back and forth pretty much every night as we wrote our respective fics, bouncing ideas off each other and discussing plot points and brainstorming for character names. And as my characters sassed me and refused to cooperate with what I wanted them to do, I would tell elvenfair what was going on in my head with my dumbass OCs and OFCs and we’d laugh and gripe about trying unsuccessfully to reel in our unruly muses.

And then one night back in 2015 she said “You should post this muse stuff, it’s hilarious.”

You know what the first thing I thought was? Cassandra Claire did it 14 years ago and people loved it. So yeah, I can sure as hell do it if I want. If nobody is interested in it, at least it’ll amuse me and elvenfair and that’s cool enough.

And so I did. I started posting them in here first, then as people started requesting them more I eventually moved them to AO3 in a more structured format. And now you guys have multiple Lokis hurling curses at a bartender and viciously baiting a hapless movie star while teenage versions of two other attendees flirt with unsuspecting OFCs, with an occasional appearance by Thor dropping hints about future chapters and looking for fruit roll-ups. It’s messy, but it’s fun and I’ve always enjoyed writing it as a way to let my brain decompress, especially when one of my “real” stories has hit a roadbump.

Since then I’ve seen countless other professional writers doing the exact same thing - J.R. Ward even posts her own version of muse meetings on her official website AND has a published book (her Insiders Guide) that is almost entirely nothing BUT muse meetings. It’s surprising how many writers actually do this and I sometimes wonder if authors like Poe, Steinbeck, Vonnegut, Tolkien, Gaiman, McMurtry didn’t do it themselves (I’d bet money on McMurtry). Just goes to show there’s not an original idea anywhere in the universe…no matter how much you might believe you came up with it first, someone out there has been doing it for a long damn time before you - and a million more will do it after you :)

Anyway, I haven’t written any muse meetings in a while but they still go on constantly in my head. I get asked about once a week to go back to doing them, and one day I will, when I have time for it. My actual fics are struggling for writing time as it is and I made a conscious decision to weed out the unnecessary stuff in favor of “real work” (yeah right lol)…but yeah, the Meetings are still one of my favorite things and I won’t stop doing them permanently - they’ll be back.

So thank you Cassandra Claire for inspiring me to let them fly…if it weren’t for those whacked-out Diaries, the Muse Meetings would all still be in my head with only one person (me) laughing at them.

#fudgemuffinanon #long post #it's been a while since I got to talk to an adult IRL due to the kids being sick #so here have all the words at once lol

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