writing-prompt-s:

azzarinne:

caffeinewitchcraft:

theonlyleftydesk:

caffeinewitchcraft:

writing-prompt-s:

Congratulations, genius. You convinced your best friend, the Protagonist, not to marry the story’s Love Interest, and instead go off and have awesome adventures with you forever. But in doing so, you pissed off the Author.

After the third bandit ambush, the Unnecessary Character waits until the Protagonist falls asleep to turn an accusing look at the sky.

“Hey,” the Unnecessary Character says, jabbing a finger stupidly at the non-sentient array of stars, “you quit it. You quit it right now.”

The Unnecessary Character, henceforth known as TUC so as not to waste too many letters on them, looks rather rough. Their hair is a tangled mess from the swallows who’d mistaken the horrendous strands as nesting material.

“I know that was you,” TUC hisses. “Swallows use mud and spit to make their nests, not twigs.”

TUC is unaware that they actually look like dirt, just terrible, smelly dirt.

“This is a lot of unnecessary anger,” TUC says to the sky. “You’re the one who thought Ally needed a friend and now you’re mad that I’m being a friend to her? Josiah was a creep, you know. Maybe you think he was charming, but he’s borderline abusive. No, scratch that. He was straight up abusive.”

TUC’s main weakness has always been the inability to see the big picture. They don’t know that the Love Interest would do anything for the Protagonist, up to and including battling the dragon that would inevitable be coming to the castle.

TUC pales until they begin to resemble watery porridge. “The what?!”

Their voice is shrill and stupid. The pitch of it nearly wakes the poor, exhausted Protagonist who’s had it rough these past few nights with TUC waylaying her with their idiocy.

“Let’s…let’s swing back to the dragon later,” TUC says. They pinch the bridge of their nose, trying to ease the headache thinking so hard has given them. “Look, Josiah wanted to keep Ally in the castle, okay? Like, all the time. She’s an adventurer, dude, not a stay-at-home wife. And have you already forgotten how Josiah locked her in the dungeons when those rebel forces tried to break in? And then just forgot about her in the aftermath until she broke out?”

It’s not surprising that TUC has misinterpreted that lovely and gallant action. Ally is a lady, forced to work hard all her life to support her mean family. She needs someone to take care of her so she can finally be happy.

“Her mean–they were poor!” TUC says, missing the point completely. They direct a hideous look at the sky. “No, I’m not missing the point! Everyone in her family was worked to the bone, not just her! They all had to work insane hours just to pay taxes! Taxes, may I remind you, that Josiah and his father set!”

Keep reading

TUC woke the next morning to a strange clicking sound. Or, it felt like the next morning; they had no idea how many mornings it hat been, since they locked themselves in dire combat with the cruel, twisted being who was the director and creator of their world. Time there had become strange. Had it merely been last night since they railed at the sky, at the ruthless, irrational being?

Ally was still fast asleep, her face untroubled for once. TUC felt both happiness and relief; she, at least, would always be safe.

Now it was quiet for a moment, before the clicking started again.

A silver deer materialized in the forest in front of them. They jumped, startled, knowing that deer had not lived in those woods for years, since Josiah and his father and uncles and other nobles has hunted them to extinction there. He was fairly certain this one was in dire danger, just being there.

But–the deer was wearing a blue ribbon around its neck, and carrying a rolled up piece of paper in its mouth. It came close enough to drop the paper, then moved off a little ways, still watching them.

TUC picked up the scroll, bewildered, and unrolled it.

In glowing, mercury-bright writing, it said: I believe you. I have always believed in you.

I am an Fanfic Author, and I am here to save you from your Canon.

(This is amazing, what a great addition!)

TUC frowns at the scroll, perhaps wishing they knew how to read. Unfortunately, such things were often below the capabilities of–

“You know I can read,” TUC says, their voice like fingernails on a chalkboard after their fitful night of sleep. “I would have slept great if it weren’t for you.” They roll up the scroll. “You didn’t write this, did you?”

TUC is hallucinating, a common affliction for those as embroiled in conspiracy as they. Their lips turn down into a frown, skin wrinkling unpleasantly as they look down.

“If you didn’t write this,” TUC says, the effort of thinking showing clearly on their face, “then that means you don’t have unilateral say in these events. Perhaps every moment you’ve designed exists concurrently with those moments provided by an outside source in your sphere. If that’s the case then–”

They break off as a whole flock of birds, seeing the terrible mess below, swoop down. Even when it is clear that TUC’s hair is not carrion, as they hoped, they continue to pelt towards their head with murderous purpose. They would have their revenge.

TUC, with far too much cruelty, drops the scroll and reaches for their bow in one motion. The first three arrows are lucky hits, scraping against the innocent creatures’ wings and sending them tragically plummeting to the ground. The rest of the flock, in fear, turn on an updraft and frantically fly away from the monstrous human.

“Nice,” TUC says, desperately attempting to appear they are not out of breath. They must be though–it must have taken great effort to ward off their fate. A hardly sustainable effort, one might say. TUC rolls their stupid eyes. “Birds aren’t going to do much, you know that. Don’t act like I just kicked a bunch of babies.”

TUC would kick  a bunch of babies. They just hadn’t had the chance yet. Instead, they’re bending down to pick up the scroll which definitely doesn’t exist.

“But it does,” TUC says, muttering like a fool. “And since it does, it would seem that I–” they smile “I have an ally.”

TUC’s mom has an ally.

This is amazing. Definitely look behind the Read More.

I love it when writers do a prompt collab