Cerulaine

teekettle:

So, somehow or another, I got my brother hooked on Loaded March. He started reading the series on Monday and has been reading non-stop according to my sister-in-law. Even when he was in the ER waiting room and had to be admitted to the hospital, he was reading on his phone. He admitted he started crying at the ending of First Contact and the beginning of Groundwork, and now I’m just wondering what kind of angry phone call I’m going to get when he finishes Means to an End. :P

oh my god yes

I just want the Loaded March tag to explode and become like a proper fucking huge Fandom because that’s exactly what it deserves. I WANT US ALL TO HAVE THEORIES OF WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT OR IN THE FUTURE.

I want us all to make images and gifs specifically for the Loaded March Fandom and praise Footloose as an almighty goddess of writing that is a gift to mankind.

We are not worthy

NOT WORTHYYYYY

Impatiently awaiting Part 9 of Loaded March. It should be out today but I know how things go sometimes.

Either way is there a possibility of holding down a BETA and forcing them to work faster?

I mean what?

It’s a huge mistake to read ‘looking at you looking at me’

Earlier today I started explaining the story to my sister and when I tried to tell her about the end I started choking up and crying and trying to compose myself to tell her what happened in the story.

The reason is because we were listening to ‘Shouldn’t be A Good in Goodbye’ by Jason Walker

And while listening I had told her “Think about Doctor/River”

Then the second verse came on and I started to cry a bit because I thought of this fic instead.

Even worse is here I am at 3 in the morning being bored saying ‘Oh I wanna read it again’

Finishing

Gross Sobbing Mess

Like I tried to get up from my chair and get into bed but I couldn’t make it there because I just fell to the ground and rocked myself against the side of my bed and sobbed some more before picking myself up and writing this instead. Yay…ugh.

I’m so emotionally invested in Merthur it’s disgustingly unhealthy but I can’t help myself. x.X

looking at you looking at me

Please please please I warn you this is the saddest Merthur fic I’ve ever read hands down.

I don’t wish this sadness on anyone, ever.

I think that’s why it hits me so hard because this happens to people. The possibility is just always there for this sort of thing to happen.

AHHHHH It’s funny cause Merlin has magic but in this case he’s not actually using it.

There was no mistaking the growing tension that had nothing to do with the adrenaline rushing through the veins of soldiers about to go into combat, and everything to do with a team that was getting fractured because they were taking Merlin’s side.

He wanted to shout at his men to snap-to, to shake off whatever this… this spell was that Merlin had cast over the team, but he wasn’t going to cause a scene in front of people who weren’t part of Excalibur.

God I love the boys, I can’t help but laugh my ass off this fic just makes me feel all the feelings.

“God, I hope he doesn’t snore. Roman snored. I never slept,” Gwaine said suddenly. At the look he got from Arthur and Leon, he said, “What? I have the bunk right next to. I have rights to complain.”

“You snore,” Arthur reminded him. His bunk was all the way across the tent, and he could hear it as loud as if Gwaine were next to him. Which he’d been, once. Back in high school, well before uni, well before the army, and it was a sound that Arthur neither missed nor cared to hear again that close.

“I do not.”

“You bray like a mule with a hot poker up its arse,” Leon said.

“Your mother doesn’t complain,” Gwaine retorted.

“That’s because she’s stone deaf,” Leon said.

Gwaine chortled. “So you don’t have any issues with her sleeping with me?”

“She’s slept with pigs, why not with a mule?” Leon asked. He took a deep breath. “It’s not like you smell any better.”

“Speaking of, we might as well make ourselves somewhat presentable,” Arthur said.

“Too late in his case,” Leon said, thumbing toward Gwaine.

“Oi!”

God I love Merthur first meetings. Arthur is always such a big ole’ bag of douche.

“Mind if I take a look?” Merlin asked, uncomfortably aware that the blond’s intense gaze had shifted from withering the two soldiers to ashes to shooting laser beams in his direction for butting in. “It might be a problem with the modulator. The sand can get in them and…”

“I really don’t care,” the blond snapped.

The man tumbled from Merlin’s Drool-Worthy list with those four words, and Merlin found himself forcing a smile on his lips — in part to reassure the two soldiers who looked like they alternatingly wanted to sink into the ground or run away, in part to try to disarm the man from the deadly chip on his shoulder that could go off any second now.

Mmm yes Merlin it is wonderful, you don’t even understand. JUST.YOU.WAIT.

Standard operating procedures for a SAS team was to bunk together, but Excalibur took it a step further, because their Captain bunked down with them, too.

They were the closest-knit group and notoriously hard to get seconded to, because getting on with the team meant replacing a member who’d been badly injured or killed.

No one ever wished for something like that to happen on another fellow SAS, but it also meant that the odds of joining Excalibur was virtually nil.

Unless one happened to be a communications specialist, because Excalibur rotated them out as often as Merlin changed underpants.

Apparently, Arthur Pendragon ate comm-specs for breakfast.

Wonderful. Just, bloody wonderful.

Poor Merlin even in the Army you have no chance of getting away from Captain Prat.

“Look at it as your destiny, Merlin Emrys. You wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t a great purpose for you. You will be an invaluable asset to your C.O. He’s going to need you.”

“Yes, Sir,” Merlin said, feeling somewhat mollified and wondering if he’d been manipulated. “I’ll do my best.”

“See that you do.” The Dragon gave him a curt nod. “Dismissed.”

“Yes, Sir,” Merlin said, saluting automatically, and, hand still at his forehead, asked, “Sir? Who’s my C.O.?”

“You’re joining team Excalibur. Your Captain is Arthur Pendragon.”

AWWWW YEAH SHIT IS ABOUT TO GET GOOD

“I’m told that the boy is good. Very good. The sort that can cobble together wireless with a couple of pennies and some wire. He’s willing to sign on a two-year bid if it works out with your team.” The Dragon gave Arthur a hard look that reminded him of Uther. “And you are going to make it work out.”

Arthur grimaced inwardly and squeezed out a quiet “Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. He’s on his way from Wales now, due to report in before 1700. You’re dismissed.”

Arthur saluted and turned around, and turned around again. “Sir? What’s his name?”

The Dragon picked up the file folder and looked at it. “Emrys. Merlin Emrys.”

Oh maybe it’s because I dunno he’s a motherfucking Dragon disguised as a human?

Major Thomas Kilgharrah was called The Dragon everywhere else but to his face, even by his seniors.

He was a stern-faced man with small patches of skin burned by chemical fire, and the scars had healed with a bumpy, scaly texture, and while not a large man, he could make a large, empty room feel stuffy and over its maximum occupancy just by walking through the front door.

It wasn’t only the physical imposition he made that earned him the nickname.

At any moment, it seemed as if he might eat someone for the simple reason that they looked like they’d make a nice snack, chuckling to himself while he chewed.