Disclaimer: All respective characters belong to their respective companies, and the originals belong to me. The title is a pun on a Piers Anthony novel. This is my response to a bunch of vignettes about marauding Power Ranger fanfic ideas and pesky muses, mainly by Ellen Brand, Jeremy Ray Logsdon, and Cynthia Harrell. So it's not that original, but I felt the need to get it out of my system. Big time. It's not just restricted to PR and Real Ghostbusters fandom, guys!

Creativity Demons Don't Dream
by: Amanda Ohlin

"Hello? Is that an e-mail?"

"It's been over a year! I'll die out if you don't write me!"

"No! Write me! Write me!"

"I can't believe you're gonna kill me off!"

"I'm melting! I'm melting! Aaaahh!"

"Are you going to work on my fic or not?"

I turned away from Ellen's "Technical Difficulties" and groaned. I could see exactly where she was coming from with writer's block.

My multitude of creativity demons, in the form of miniature characters from their planned fanfics, were running rampant throughout my room. Most of the older ones had died out, although some had hung on for over a year because I liked them too much to ditch. I made a mental note to clear my plate before next semester; I wouldn't have my own room anymore, and my roommate would kill me.

To make things worse, the ideas didn't just hang around my chair and pester me; spawned from my ADD, they had a tendency to wander and get into everything. My Tomorrow People fic ideas were teleporting all over the place--Megabyte was trying to get into the candy jar, Jade was whining, and Lisa and Adam were bickering with Beth Maza, since they were part of my 3-way crossover fic.

I focused my attention on the highest-priority fic, sitting atop my monitor. "Like, are you gonna get cracking with that ep or what? I totally need a shower big time!"

My Captain N: The Game Master fic, currently in the form of Stacey Anderson and Mike Jones (the guy from StarTropics), was not in a good mood. Well, one half of it wasn't, anyway. "Ignore her," Mike muttered. "It's just PMS."

Stacey shrieked at that comment, and I turned away. I didn't want to see the bloodshed, and I was stuck anyway.

"Hey!" Olivia O'Connor, my original Ranger, popped up from behind the stuffed Dogbert on my printer. "Are you going to get to me *sometime* in this millennium?"

I sighed. "Don't I wish." Stacey was trying to deck Mike, who was wisely dodging. "I don't have time."

"Excuse me?? I've been on your backlog for over a year!"

"Hey, carrot top," Rocky snapped from his perch beside my cookie stash, "if you weren't such a Mary Sue from hell, you'd have made it by now."

"Shut up, Rocky!" Tanya smacked Rocky in the back of the head. "I would've been her first Ranger fic if she hadn't realized she had things backwards!"

"But *I'm* the only one she has a solo fic about," Rocky said, adding as Trini glared at him, "Songfic doesn't count!"

Olivia glanced over at me. "You're the author. Can I kill him?"

"Get in line." Trini and Tanya were advancing on Rocky with plastic forks. "And you got 42 points on the Litmus Test, anyway. For someone who whines about Mary Sues all the time, I have to be fair."

"But I'm bored! And I'm stuck pining over him!" Olivia had been mooning over my Jason fic, who was fending off Clan Denver as well as a couple of Oberon's children and a caffeine-wired Brooklyn. My Garg fics had, as usual, been crowding the arena, but Jase was fending them off pretty well since I'd liked him since the first series. "Can't you at least get me somewhere with him?"

"Not while I'm here!" Emily shouted.

I tossed a roll of paper towels at the group of gargoyles, who scattered. "Knock it off! That's not a fair fight!"

"Everyone shut up!" Stacey shouted. "She's writing my fic now!"

"That's because she has to get the bloody third part done in time for it to be posted on schedule!" Sarah Adams snapped. Dingo's hacker sister kicked Zhane away and clambered onto my dresser. "At least get 'Night Shift' done this century! I don't care if I have to wear a skirt!"

"Give me a break! She writes your fics all the time!" The Jason fic shoved his way through the melee to get my attention.

"That's just because I'm special, mate."

"No, it's because you're too damn loud. I know; I got captured with your alter ego."

As Zhane tackled Sarah again, Olivia hopped off the printer, helping Jason onto the desk. "Anyone ever tell you you're really cute?" Olivia asked.

I groaned. "Oh, Lord."

"If you're not gonna write me, let me have some fun. You were living vicariously through me with him."

I didn't get a chance to answer as a miniature explosion occurred from the other end of the room. Astronema and Teal'c were having it out, his Jaffa staff weapon versus her Wrath Staff. Despite being only six inches tall, they were starting to inflict some minor damage, adding more tiny holes to my already pitted dorm room walls. The rest of SG-1 was wisely staying out of the way. Daniel Jackson and Dr. Jones were comparing archaelogical notes about alien artifacts.

"Can someone stop those two before they destroy everything?" Colonel O'Neill shouted above the din. "Or at least before my eardrums burst?" He ducked a punch from Macbeth, who was avoiding Demona for once.

"I don't care how much I have to destroy," Astronema shouted, "if it gets 'Flirting with Disaster' written!" I cursed myself for having conceived a Zhane/Astronema fic in the first place.

Olivia was fawning over Jason's wounds while the tiny Emily idea, too small to have much effect, fumed. Stacey and Mike had stopped fighting and were making out--a sign that I was tired, since I wasn't planning that in the LEAST. Astronema had lost her staff, and Teal'c was out of power, so now she was engaged in a slap fight with Demona. Captain Samantha Carter was having a kickboxing match with Sam "Slick" Denaro.

I glared over at the last pair. "Hey! I'm working here!"

"I'm not gettin' edged out!" Slick shouted.

"Don't go fighting my fic ideas over it! You don't even belong to me; go complain to Shadow Master!" She vanished in a puff of logic. "Whew." But Carter turned around and was immediately engaged in hand-to-hand with Buffy. "Darn it."

Adam, Lisa, and Beth were hiding behind Anubis, the other part of that crossover, who none of the fics dared to touch. Not only was the jackal god fairly intimidating, but "Gates of the Mind" had some moderate research and demand behind it.

Kat and Kimberly suddenly launched into a chorus of Republica's "Drop Dead Gorgeous." I immediately threw the ruler at them, silencing the singing. "Sorry, but no more songfic!"

"Hey! No fair hair-pulling!"

"O'Neill, I believe we are surrounded."

"What was your first clue?"

"You think you can best me, puny human?"

"Cavalry's here; cavalry's a frightened guy with a rock, but it's here."

"Line recycling's not fair either, Xander!"

"42 points isn't that bad. You ever gone scuba diving?"

"Watch the tail, red!"

I jumped to my feet. "That's it," I snapped. "It's one a.m., I'm tired, I'm cranky, and we're all lucky I don't have a roomie at the moment. Not to mention that I have registration tomorrow, and if you don't leave me alone, I will never get around to writing ANY of you!!!"

There was silence as I shut off the computer and climbed into bed, the ideas in the room fading away. Jason and Olivia lingered until I glared at them. Olivia shrugged and they vanished. I snuggled into the sheets, closing my eyes and enjoying the welcome quiet.

"Do you really think she'll ever get around to me?"

"If she doesn't get to me, she dies."

"Then she'll never write you in the first place, Demona."

"At least I won't have to wear another headdress."

"Your real hair color is *what*? Jalapena!"

"Hey, that's my line!"

I groaned.