howdy! for the fanfic writer questions: #2. Talk about your process for developing story ideas. #17. Least favorite trope to write? #28. Are there any words, phrases, mannerisms, or scenes that you tend to use a lot?
molte grazie! <3 <3 <3 (and especially for this extremely sophisticated questions-in-the-ask stuff :o)
#2. Talk about your process for developing story ideas.
oof! extremely chaotic lawful?! haha
i guess it typically goes something like:
have an idea > leave it > over time return to it and think through how it might make sense > have varied other stray ideas over time about lines or moments or dialogue or something and maybe put some of those 'in' this idea > eventually maybe write down a placeholder title on the list of things i want to write > keep thinking a bit about the idea and indeed the other ideas while writing other thing/s > eventually decide to Write The Thing at a point where i've pretty much worked it out in my head > do whatever research is desperately needed to complete the process of working it out in my head > choose a title! listen to the source song; cackle > tell myself the story in my head a few times till i've got it all worked through plotwise and to an extent languagewise > make some notes? (might already have some notes from rewatch; title source song) > write the whole thing on paper, ideally in one go but that's happening less and less cos they keep being too long waah > read through paper draft and make light edits > type the thing up > discover how long it is > get to editing!!!!!!!!!!!!! > once i can read through it without getting wildly frustrated, turn it into an ao3 draft > edit edit edit edit edit > eventually go: fuck it post it > rest
#17. Least favourite trope to write?
um ok: one answer, and i think it's more LESS faves for me than LEAST cos if it's a trope i don't want to write then i won't lol, but for another:
ummm maybe HEA...? or at least for brio lol, they suck. like i have written it a few times (mostly/only AU or future fics i think...?) but i do generally prefer a more open-ended ending for them.
howsoever, i have seen the light and Understood why most of rhea's name is hea
#28. Are there any words, phrases, mannerisms, or scenes that you tend to use a lot?
lmao, im trying to take this q seriously but ive stumbled straight off...
are there words i use a lot? um yea, 'the' for example... (now obsessed w/ the idea of writing a story w/o it, o no)
im very pro repetition of words/phrases/stuff! that’s how you build a pattern, n if u build one u can make diverting from it impactful!
...& it hurt, but only a bit.
...& it hurt, but only a bit.
...& it hurt, but only a bit.
...& it hurt, but only a bit. Just a little bit.
...& it hurt, but only a bit.
...& it hurt, a whole fucking lot.
plus re words, phrases, mannerisms etc... i should think they are repeated cos i write a lot of stuff abt the same 2 dummies and mostly from either of their povs. ok should write abt more interesting ppl, good note.
can’t have a normal conversation to save their lives
poor traumatised mick
...and im back to the same good note haha
play with me
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To Chance Upon A King
The prince rode on his stallion as it galloped across the lush green woods a distance away from the castle. Following behind was his entourage of guards, who also rode on strong stallions to keep up with the prince.
The entire group was on a small hunt. A stag had been spotted in these woods. This presented an opportunity for the prince to leave his residence for a bit of fun.
The thrill he felt as he felt the wind flow past his body and through his hair was intense. Horse riding in the woods was the best way the prince could bask in a little bit of freedom before returning to his princely responsibilities.
Soon, the stag was within his sight. His entourage came armed with ornately decorated rifles, and they took aim. One of the guards accidentally released the trigger, but the bullet fired into the empty woods, the stag having evaded them successfully amongst the trees and wild greenery. And nobody could tell where it went; it seemed to have disappeared into thin air.
The prince wandered forward, putting a little distance between him and his entourage, and attempted to gain a sight of its tracks. Alas, nothing could be seen.
Well damn, the prince thought. It seemed luck wasn't on his side today.
But his attention was soon grabbed by a faint cry echoing in the woods. It seemed animalistic, most likely the cry of a creature. It dragged on for a little while, the cry quickly descending into a wail.
The prince followed the sound, hearing the wailing increasing in volume as his horse trudged forward. Once the sound became clearer, it dawned upon him that the sound was of a stag in distress.
The prince's hope grew. Perhaps it was the stag that he had been chasing. As he nudged his horse on, he entered into a small clearing, whereby a pond stood in its natural beauty. In front of the pond, however, he saw the stag from which the cry emanated. The stag, however, was much larger in size, its antlers much more impressive. It was not the stag he had been chasing.
What intrigued him more was the man standing beside the distressed stag, who lifted his arms and petted its hide in an attempt to pacify the poor creature.
After a moment or so, the stag had calmed sufficiently and resumed its peaceful stance, tilting its head down to take a drink. The man, meanwhile, had seemed quite flustered by the whole scene.
"Are you alright?" the prince asked from his steed. The man with the stag immediately turned around to face the prince, his expression indicating that he was quite clearly upset.
"Are you hunting?" the man queried, anger evident in his tone, "Do you have the slightest clue of how much your guns would frighten him?"
The prince dismounted from his horse, his expression changed from concerned to apologetic as he approached the other man, who he realised was dressed in a toned-down fashion with a long brown coat. Despite the simplistic style, the man's appearance was neat. His white hair was combed back in a rather handsome manner.
"Yes," the prince replied gingerly, "I do apologise if my men had frightened you."
"I'm fine, but you certainly frightened my steed over here. Creatures like him tend to be more afraid of the thunderous sound of guns firing," the man indignantly answered, gently petting the hide of the drinking creature.
The prince was somewhat puzzled at this.
"Yes. Well, believe it or not, it is possible to tame a stag for riding, though it is considerably much more challenging than if with a horse."
The prince marvelled at this. Domesticating stags to accept a rider was unconventional and quite unheard of in the kingdom.
"Look, I am sorry," the prince said, lowering himself for a moment. The man softened his expression and turned to the prince. Strangely enough, the man seemed rather familiar. The prince was certain that he had seen his face in a history book of monarchs before, though he couldn't confirm it.
"It is quite alright. It's just I ride out here often while I'm here in the country. Unfortunately, its proximity to the castle means that it becomes a hunting spot for the royals."
The man let out a sigh and turned to face the horizon of the lake. "It just annoys me quite so when the guns fire here. A frenzied stag is not good for all involved."
The prince couldn't help but feel somewhat ashamed.
"You mentioned that you come here while in the country. Do you come from one of the major cities?" the prince asked. The opposite man shooked his head and patted the stag's snout.
"No. When I mean 'in the country', I actually mean while I'm here in this country."
"You're a foreigner?"
"That I am," the man replied, his attention still fixed on his stag.
"I forgot to ask earlier, but may I know your name?" the prince asked. He tried to associate the man with several foreign names he could think of, but there were many possibilities, given that he wasn't actually aware of where in the world the man came from.
The man gave a slight, knowing smirk.
"Arthur. What do they call you?"
"Alex," the prince replied, "They call me Alex. Where are you staying?"
"A small country estate, not too far from here. It's peaceful, being surrounded by forestry," the man responded.
"Sounds rather lovely," the prince remarked, "How long do you plan to stay here?"
"Oh, I'm not sure. Probably a few weeks, at least," was the man's reply, accompanied by a simple shrug of his shoulders. The prince analysed the man. The royal admitted that he found the man somewhat alluring, that beneath the aura of authority which emanated from him was a kind soul who cared for those around him. He could imagine him to be a gentle person in a different circumstance than this.
But the thing that struck him the most was how familiar he looked. He swore he could have looked like a particular someone, but it simply slipped off his tongue, and it bothered him to a great degree. However, he simply chose to keep quiet about the matter. The man certainly didn't look like a royal. It probably wasn't him.
The man managed to pick up on the troubled expression the prince had on his face.
"What troubles you, sir?" he asked, a tone of concern evident in his voice. The prince flinched slightly and briefly made eye contact with the prince. It was only for a brief moment, but it seemed to have awakened some kind of feeling in the prince.
"Oh, you know, life," was the reply he could muster, "How much it can all weigh down on you." It was very much a white lie, but some part of it was also true for him.
"Ah yes. I've had those same feelings. Life places many burdens on us, regardless of status," the man mused, "But, I like to think of it as a learning curve. They can teach a great many things, no?"
The prince was inclined to agree. "That's wise of you, sir," the prince commended.
"It comes to you once you've lived long enough and experienced enough. I've seen quite a bit in my day."
"Oh?" the prince quipped. The man was about to speak in reply, but suddenly a voice rang out from the trees.
In the distance, on an elevation, a man on horseback stood amongst the woods, his eyes focusing on the two men, but mainly on the white-haired man himself. He seemed as if he had been waiting for quite a while, but the prince was quite sure that he had just chanced upon them.
"Ah, that would be one of the aides," the mysterious man said, "It would seem that I have to go."
"Might I see you again?" the prince asked. He felt curious about this man, and he wanted to know him more.
"Perhaps. Like I said," the man said as he got on his stag steed effortlessly, "I do come to these woods rather frequently."
"I hope our paths do cross again," he added, settling himself on the back of the stag.
"I like to believe it will," the prince finished, "Safe travels, good sir."
And with that, the man rode off, his stag gracefully traversing the forested ground towards the awaiting man on the nearby hill. The prince looked in that direction for a while before deciding that he should return before his entourage began to send search parties after him.
He got back up on his horse and turned his steed back into the woods, but not without looking back for a moment, seemingly amused with what had occurred.
He hoped to see the man again—the white-haired man named Arthur with a stag as his riding companion.
Arthur made his way over to his aide, who gave a slightly confused expression.
"Who was that, Your Majesty?"
"Let us say, a gentleman who might become a friend," he replied knowingly, nodding his head over in the direction from whence he came.
"Ah. A new friend," his aide repeated with his lips forming into the slightest hint of an amused smile. "Well, shall we head back? Luncheon will be ready soon."
Arthur looked down at his stomach for a brief moment. "Yes. Lunch sounds about good. I've heard that the kitchen staff got their hands on a fine pheasant."
"Fresh from the local farm," Arthur's aide added, "A nice treat, if you were to ask me."
The two men rode in their steeds down the hillside and back towards the quaint little country estate that stood in a clearing surrounded by woody trees.
Arthur chose not to reveal who exactly was the man on the white horse was, but he knew exactly who he was, judging by the signet ring on the man's right ring finger he managed to catch a glimpse of earlier.
Arthur knew that he had just met and conversed with a prince of this land, but the other certainly didn't know that he had chanced upon a king of a foreign country.
And for now, he wanted to keep it that way.
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