mercy-thompson-fanfiction

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

MT as DND

Mercy: Uh. Fuck. They’re all—I cast. Ah, how many of them are there? Never mind. Can I…Ok. Ok. Is it possible to cast…fuck it requires touch.

DM: What is it?

Mercy: Protection from Poison? Can I consider it touching him if it’s through the bond? If he’s already drawing it, can I like…protect him and just him? I don’t think I have something that works otherwise.

Ben: You can what?

DM: (grinning) Yeah. I’ll consider that touch.

Adam: Since fucking when could you do that?

DM: Ok is that what you want to do?

Samuel: Since when are you a spell casting class?

Mercy: I’ve been one the whole time—

Table: HOLD UP!

Samuel: (yanking character sheet) Why have I been the only healer? You have—WHY HAVE I BEEN THE ONLY HEALER? Do you know how much easier it is to cast this than to risk it and make rolls for medicine checks?

Mercy: Listen. This is my first time playing a caster. I’m just trying my best.

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

Ever think about how Leah was probably closer mentally to ~15 than 20 when she was turned due to having her memory erased and her life as a werewolf was molded by Bran and what Bran thinks a werewolf should be. She is cold, completely in control, and cares only for werewolves and pack and has no use for anyone else. Bran thinks those he loves are his greatest weakness, and Leah rarely loves, and is able to kill those she loves without endangering her control at all.

Idk I'm just saying that if their roles were reversed and Leah thought she needed to kill Bran for the good of the pack and werewolf kind... I 100% believe she could. And she wouldn't go insane either.

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

"i cant wait to update my fic", i says with joy i was then shot 57 times

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

MT as DND

Samuel: This is your first time playing, right?

Ben: Yeah

Samuel: Oh good. I’m not the only one with a traumatic backstory then.

DM: Is everyone ready?

Table: Yeah

*** As Information is Revealed in a More DnD Table Play Friendly Manner ***

Samuel: Holy shit

Adam: Yeah. That’s a first character alright

Mercy: You don’t seem surprised

Ben: Oh part of the thing was that we went over it with him so he could properly react to things I did.

Samuel: You meta gamed without us?!

DM: Baby’s first meta

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

I’m assuming this isn’t a spoiler because it’s joking conjecture but I’m literally only on chapter 3 so

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

MT as DnD

Anna: Sorry, I hear what?

DM: You hear water and maybe like—

Charles: Did you Call of Cthulhu us?

Tag: Wait, was I right?! Did I call it?

DM: That is fundamentally incorrect, it’s a completely different gameplay.

Charles: So you did.

DM: Maybe I drew loose inspiration. But I draw inspiration plenty of places.

Leah: Wait are we for-real fighting a god?

Tag: WE ARE FIGHTING A GOD, BABY!

DM: Maybe crazy is a motivation.

Charles: (rapidly flipping through character sheet) I do not have anything for a god.

Tag: Does anyone?

Anna: And you’re our only healer… so we really can’t lose you.

Leah: I cannot believe you’d do this to us. I feel betrayed.

DM: …well. Great news coming your way then.

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

Reblog if you're a fanfic writer and you wanna know what your followers' favorite story of yours is ❤

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

MT as DND

Anna: I’m just sort of looking at you like “you’ve got to be kidding me”. So picture this tiny little reddish-brown haired mouse of a woman, hands on hips, like “Your dad has a weird thing about Mercy.”

Charles: Is this meta gaming? This feels like meta gaming.

Leah: Oh my god. He’s not even here to defend himself.

DM: I’m going to allow it. It’s what he canonically would have wanted. He’ll just have to read the session notes.

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

I’m queuing this for Thursday but if the person I met the other day for a baby-and-me thing is coming to the event tonight please do not mention this blog/AO3 for the love of god. I don’t know if you know both, you only mentioned my AO3 tag. We didn’t get that far into the conversation because I started changing the subject to a different fandom.

You’ve met the creator and I didn’t fess up. The guilt is eating me alive bc you’re a cool person. If you’re reading this, so sorry about that but I have never accidentally been outed in public before. This is a fairly small fandom, enough so that I’ve never organically encountered someone in real life. It’s not something I’ve ever expected, least of all at a playgroup for infants and small children. I definitely didn’t expect it you to mention my account. It was terrifying.

I don’t know if you think I’m weird about fanfiction—though we talked about other fanfic without me having a heart attack—or if I outed myself without speaking and you’ve pieced it together but again.

If you’re reading this.

Totally sorry for just avoiding that.

And please don’t mention it over drinks tonight, I’ll probably shit a brick.

Thank you.

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

Hey! Can you write a story with Bran's wolf and Mercy? I am pretty sure if the beast was able to wrestle control from Bran, Mercy would be able to calm it. I would be happy to read something like that.

The ground was only just coming to the season where it was beginning to freeze. It smelled like frozen mud already and it sure hurt like it when I landed on my side.

The last thing I’d ever expect to happen while visiting Aspen Creek was being attacked by a witch. Really, being attacked by anything near Aspen Creek wasn’t on my radar. Most of the things that went bump in the night actively avoided the Marrok. That said, there were very few beings with a death wish quite like witches. Something about being power-hungry (and the Marrok held plenty of power) tended to result in bloodshed, the same could easily be said for werewolves.

When we had made the drive, we had been warned a wilding was missing. This wasn’t particularly uncommon, the wildings did sometimes disappear to die, not entirely unlike a house-cat. Some of them went out in a blaze of glory, and those ones were concerning. But even those “missing” were never actually missing. That Bran had no idea where this one had gone was out of character.

Of course, he’d also had other things on his mind. That was actually the reason we visited. Having been re-inducted into Marrok territory instead of floating as a little island on our own—an unfortunate result of some particularly polarizing political statements I had made—meant that Adam and I were asked to come to Montana.

I stood and shook myself off, the ground was going to leave a worse bruise than what the wilding had done before Adam jumped in.

The witch was out of my sight lines again. It made my ear twitch in frustration. I didn’t like not knowing where she was or what she was working. Adam was two-on-one because she’d already snagged Sherwood in her spell and that was a problem.

First problem was that he was two-on-one. The second, and maybe more pressing, was that Sherwood was not a far cry from Adam. They were, after all, connected. And both were connected to me.

Magic didn’t always work quite properly on me so I wasn’t sure whether to expect that to be a problem or not. It was possible I might be able to shield Adam at the very least.

I was too late to experiment with shielding pack, Sherwood was already gone.

My heart screamed at me to re-engage and help, but common sense overruled this time. I needed to find the witch. There were very few who could control wolves in some capacity similar to this. Personally, I knew of two and both were dead.

I kept my nose to the ground, beginning where I had seen her moment before I’d gone flying, and began tracking. I wasn’t a bloodhound, but black magic was gross enough to smell strongly everywhere it went. Hers had a twinge of familiarity to it, almost akin to a scent I associated with a farrier—the smell of burning hooves.

I picked up the pace because Adam was going to begin losing steam. The trail felt very similar to those Charles used to lay for me. She was far enough ahead of me from my time on the ground to have back-tracked, or maybe she had preset a trail moments before our encounter began.

Maybe we were the target.

No, that wouldn’t make sense. We were an easier target further away from here, further from town even. This was targeted, but her bullseye was Aspen Creek.

When I heard the sound of the truck, I nearly picked up a flat-out run. There was no way to get to her in a truck.

But then I halted.

The sound was almost certainly in the wrong direction. She hadn’t back-tracked that far without me knowing. Plus, the sound of the truck was familiar. It wasn’t the witch’s.

And she wouldn’t leave the vicinity of her captured wolves. I didn’t know what spell she’d caught them in, and some could probably overcome distance, but if her goal was the Marrok then she wouldn’t leave.

She definitely wouldn’t now.

I needed to find her before she found the Marrok. Or, otherwise, I needed to find him before she did.

Both Sherwood and Bran had witch blood and one would think that would give them some sort of resistance to capture by magic, similar to mine.

It didn’t.

It must have been a genetic predisposition to critical failure against witches. Bran, to my knowledge, had been under a witch’s control twice. Sherwood had been physically captured by witches at least once, it’s how he lost his leg, but I wasn’t overly familiar with how much his and Bran’d past overlapped.

The witch had doubled back again. Ground being frozen meant I didn’t have footprints to clue me in until the trail fizzled out. I growled in frustration and turned around. If I couldn’t find her, I could at least stop Bran.

Bran who had gotten my warning and come himself like he had forgotten everything witches were capable of instead of sending Charles.

Charles, the new father. I hadn’t realized he and Anna had adopted, we’d been cut off from Marrok territory for so long. The baby was almost a year old now and we’d just met her.

Maybe it was better Charles stay home and protect her, given what she was.

I was faster on four legs, shooting back into the fight despite my aching side. I stumbled when I shifted, barely taking a pause because she was there and he almost was as well.

It’s possible I should have stayed quiet instead of shouting at him to turn around. The witch hadn’t ensnared Adam yet—though I felt her magic poking at him through our connection to Sherwood and maybe she was depending on that—and it was possible she wouldn’t recognize Bran, not as a wolf. I knew the moment he’d left the truck. I’d heard him change.

All the more dangerous.

And too late. I barely got a word out before I watched him melt away.

Jesse had made a joke once about a girl she knew in college. Every time they went out, this girl posted photos on social media. Jesse called them “soft smile, dead eyes” photos.

Bran was dead eyes, no smile.

Not Bran. I reminded myself. I had never met the berserker and I was pretty sure I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t ever.

“No!” Because he’d lunged into the already snarling pack of furry bodies.

The wilding was dead but the two Cornicks were well alive and Bran hadn’t taken damage yet.

Witch or Adam.

Choice should have been witch again, like the time just before. Witch broke the spell. Witch saved everyone, including the entire continental United States potentially.

But I’d already reacted because I couldn’t waste time chasing her down.

I was on all four again a second later, sprinting into the first opening I could find against everything Adam was telling me in my head—mostly to get away and tell Charles.

Charles who should’ve been told to begin with. I never should have told Bran. I didn’t expect him to be so self-sacrificing this time, not with a witch involved, not given what I knew of his history.

What is the actual point of Leah if this can happen?

Teeth sunk into my neck and there was a fraction of a moment where I considered the fact I’d narrowly avoided paralysis yet again.

Of course, bleeding out was an option.

I was dropped nearly as immediately as the canine jaw broke skin, just as I could feel blood. Something hit Bran’s wolf like a freight train, knocking him over.

Adam.

I’d recognized the silver form anywhere.

In the second I could spare to watch them, I realized I’d met the Marrok’s eyes.

Bran’s eyes.

Not the dead ones.

Adrenaline could only get me so far, I was going to start fading fast because blood rained a little as I shook myself off again. I didn’t heal the way the others did.

Sherwood was back in the fray, seeming to have been momentarily wounded enough to hesitate. It was two-on-one again but this time in our favour.

I spotted the witch again, slightly removed and watching. There should have been a universe where it was safe to take her alive. I so desperately wanted to know what the final goal was here, it clearly wasn’t Bran because she had him and now she didn’t seem to understand that she had him no longer.

There was an extra aggressive snarl.

Adam had Sherwood pinned and Bran was missing. I had only looked away for a second.

Eyes back on the witch, I raced towards her. Blood was pounding in my ears and I didn’t hear whatever sort of curse she hurled my way, but I did manage to escape its clutch. It felt necrotic-almost, withering. I shivered, but kept running and her eyes widened when she realized whatever it was hadn’t worked.

And then Bran was on her from behind, eerily silent until she was thoroughly decapitated and more than a little dismembered.

It wasn’t until he sat back and licked his lips that I realized Adam and Sherwood had completely fallen silent.

Bran’s eyes, which I quickly glanced away from, were unamused.

I was in trouble.

***

Days later, Aspen Creek

“Tell me again the part where you swore you could break the curse if you were ordered to kill me and it didn’t work,” Charles sounded faintly amused about the situation. “But you touch a drop of Mercy’s blood and that’s it. You’re just fine again.”

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

It’s bedtime and I’m just here imagining an unhinged, crack ship that I’m never going to write in my life. I can’t even write the canon ones half the time.

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

author ask 20, 21, 29

I truthfully did not expect to get one of these 😅 I forgot I queued it and I had to go back and check what you were talking about.

20. Yes, I have. I didn’t take the original down I actually probably could get access to the account if I tried since I still have my email but I just didn’t bother at the time.

21. I literally always look even if they aren’t on a spree. Most folks that I look at don’t have public bookmarks let alone works. Some of them I’ve read. I have to be better at commenting, myself, but know that if you’ve commented or sent kudos, I’ve at least looked at your page.

29. My brain is fried and I think I’m misunderstanding the prompt but I read way more Star Wars and LOTR fanfic than I do MT/A&O which are my top two in writing. I suspect some of that is just availability but I have a serious soft spot for Star Wars and LOTR fics. I comfort read them. ETA: I literally do not write Star Wars or LOTR fic so that makes this funnier.

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

Fanfic author ask meme

My first ask meme, and one that’s been on my mind for a while! Feel free to reblog for your it for yourself, answer them, or ask me for my answers! Read more break after 10/50 to help keep this from clogging any dashboards

1. What was your first fic and could you stand to reread it today?

2. What’s your most recent fic and how far do you think you’ve come?

3. In your opinion, what’s your best fic?

4. In your opinion and without looking at any numbers, what’s your most popular fic?

5. Is there any fic that makes you super happy to reread and remember you wrote that?

6. Is there any fic that makes you super embarrassed to reread and remember you wrote that?

7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

8. What’s the oldest (longest since last update) fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

9. Have you ever written for a fandom without watching/reading/playing the source material?

10. Have you ever written for a fandom without reading other fanfic for it?

Keep reading

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Alpha and Omega - Patricia Briggs Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Bran Cornick/Leah Cornick, Charles Cornick/Anna Latham Characters: Bran Cornick, Leah Cornick, Charles Cornick, Samuel Cornick, Anna Latham Additional Tags: slightly off-canon, Zander says something to Anna about children that isn't really canon in this, see note for details Summary:

And then, as he was about to open his mouth to ask about whether she could find childcare for the following Wednesday, he paused.

Finishing up her rounds before dinner.

It was nearly dinner now.

“Have you added me to your rounds?” Bran asked, voice sharp with irritation.

“Wonder when you’d notice. I don’t stop by every day just for fun.” Anna crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side. “Charles thought you’d catch on day one.”

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

I just read something about one of my favorite characters in the Mercyverse and I want to forget I ever read it and continue to live in blissfull ignorance please

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

MT as DND

Anna: I, too, am less susceptible to the charmed condition.

DM: Roll with advantage.

Anna: That is a…6 and a…10.

DM: All-in?

Anna: All in.

Table: We’re actually fucked.

DM: So you don’t save. Zander turns to you and says “come on into the car.”

Tag: And I’m hearing none of this?

Charles: Can I roll again?

DM: You both failed your saves and your checks, you do not hear it.

Tag: But I’m crazy, that has to count for something.

DM: I don’t know what you want me to do with that information. But we’ll come back to you because Anna is in the car. Ok. Do you both want to roll again?

Charles: I need someone else’s die this is another 7.

Tag: DIRTY TWENTY!

DM: So Tag wakes up from the room over after hearing some loud noise from the road. What do you do?

Tag: I want to see if I can hear or see anything else interesting maybe? Like maybe I see the car in the distance?

DM: Roll perception.

Tag: That will be a…math is hard…eighteen.

DM: You notice the smell of magic seeping through the wall.

Tag: Do I know whose magic?

DM: Roll arcana for me.

Tag: …three total

DM: It’s definitely magic.

Tag: Ok. I’m going to go outside and maybe take a walk because I’m crazy. I want to know what I’m hearing.

DM: Ok I don’t think crazy is really a motivation, but sure. Go ahead.

Tag: Ok I’m walking outside. Do I see anything at all?

DM: Roll—

Tag: Yeah yeah yeah. Ok thank god. Sixteen.

DM: The car is gone.

Tag: I notice nothing else???

DM: Car gone.

Tag: Ok I’m going to wake Charles and Anna up because I guess I think she’s in there. I’m just in the room freaking out.

DM: Do you have a key?

Tag: I will literally roll to pick the lock if I don’t, I have a key.

Charles: I gave him a key.

Table: You can’t retcon a key—

Charles: HE HAS A KEY! I GAVE HIM A KEY.

Tag: I have a key!

DM: …ok let’s…ok you have a key. You open the door?

Tag: Yes. And I start yelling at him to wake up.

DM: Ok. Charles is going to have to roll to wake up again.

Charles: You have got to be…it’s an eight.

DM: It doesn’t work.

Tag: I am physically shaking him.

DM: He can roll again—

Charles: Give me your dice.

Tag: I AM THROWING WATER ON HIM

DM: Charles has to—

Charles: NAT TWENTY FOR TWENTY-FOUR!

DM: So you throw water at him how?

Tag: You know those dinky little glasses the hotels have with the paper on top of them? I fill that and just straight dump it at him from a distance so he doesn’t hurt me.

Charles: I think I have bigger concerns

Tag: Again. Don’t want to die.

DM: Ok. He’s awake.

Charles: “Where’s Anna?”

Tag: “Car is gone, just trying to get you on board with a rescue mission over here.”

Charles: I’m going to see if she took anything.

DM: Roll perception or investigation

Charles: Finally, some good rolls. It’s a seventeen.

DM: You see that your shirt is missing and so is her gun—

Charles: Do I find the magic?

DM: is that currently a concern for you?

Charles: Yes

DM: Roll arcana, I guess.

Charles: Eighteen so…twenty-three?

Anna: Where were these rolls when I was being abducted from my slumber?!

Charles: I am so sorry. I am so incredibly sorry.

Tag: WHAT DOES HE FIND

DM: I don’t know. You find the source is a pocket in Anna’s pants. There’s…

a paper.

Tag: A paper?!

DM: With runes.

Charles: Do I recognize the runes?

DM: I don’t even recognize the—uh…roll again?

Charles: Fifteen?

DM: No. you don’t recognize the runes. Make a wisdom save for me again.

Tag: KILL IT

Charles: Fuck. Uh. Dirty twenty.

DM: Ok you feel a little sleepy, but you haven’t passed out. This is definitely the source of the magic.

Charles: I burn it.

DM: With what? Literally with what?

Charles: I cast druidcraft. And I burn it.

DM: The thing you’re meant to use to light candles with?

Tag: What is paper, really, if not a slightly more dangerous candle?

DM: Fine. It burns. Ok. Anna is still missing, even though you burned a scrap of paper that I just invented.

Tag: Do rangers have druidcraft now?

Charles: I multiclassed—

Anna: I am still in a car headed to fuck knows where!

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

MT as DND

Table: He’s dead?!

DM: He’s dead.

Mercy: You killed Mac?!

Adam: We’ve adopted him. He’s our adopted NPC. You can’t kill him.

DM: He’s definitely dead. Also, hold on because we haven’t gotten to what you’ve been doing.

Mercy: Is Adam dead?

DM: He hasn’t even played his situation yet. Anyways. Mac is dead. What do you do?

Mercy: I go to Adam’s

*Later*

DM: Ok. Mercy gets there. Mercy, I will add you to initiative.

Mercy: You said I saw the car leave. Are we still in initiative order?

Adam: I’m still rolling death saves. Unless you have anything?

Samuel: I cannot believe you already almost died. We’re not even a full session in yet.

Adam: I don’t want to talk about it.

Mercy: Do I know if he’s dead? Can I save him?

DM: I mean you’re welcome to scope it all out on your turn.

*Later*

DM: We are out of initiative. Adam is stable. What do you want to do?

Mercy: I want to look for a phone number for the pack healer?

DM: Ok. You want to go looking for Darryl’s number? You can do that. Describe where you look.

Mercy: I’m going to check to see if it’s like on the fridge maybe? Maybe in his office? Maybe in a safe?

DM: Roll perception for me.

Mercy: 18.

DM: Ok. You find it where Adam put it.

Adam: On the counter next to the landline.

DM: In the background I gave you for your character build, this was a world where no one knows werewolves exist. You put a list of werewolves next to your phone?

Adam: I’m old. That’s what old people do. It’s everyone’s number. It just has his number there, too. He’s not labeled “werewolf”.

DM: …Ok. Well. You can get a point of inspiration for that one. You’re right, old people do have a list of numbers by their landline. Mercy, do you call Darryl? Actually, go ahead and roll investigation for me.

Mercy: NAT 20!!!!

DM: Ok. You start to feel like this is very suspicious. Like maybe someone in the know might have done this.

Mercy: Never mind. Actually. I’m going to get Adam and Mac and book it to—uh—where am I from again?

DM: Montana?

Mercy: Yes

DM: …with the dead body?

Mercy: I want this NPC along for the ride a little longer.

DM: …ok. Well. I guess this is where the table converges

Samuel: Finally