#Author's note: i'm right

[theconceptofkidney]

did yyou know that if you mix yellow and black you get a beautiful* light green?

[humming-fly]

It's dark Arthur, pull out your lighter.

(practically I know john is most easily portrayed as a normal hooded guy with a mask but deep down my heart of hearts still belongs to mergo's wet nurse)

[anachilles]

chapt 9; whiskey neat, coffee black 🚒🥃

When they both turned to fix their gazes on him at the exact same time, the same pair of stormy blue eyes glared back and for a moment the familiarity was eerie, but thankfully fleeting. Stood next to each other, the physical similarities were unmissable. A thread flowing between them in the colour of their eyes, their willowy frames, and set of their eyebrows when they furrowed in displeasure. But at the same time, if he’d simply passed James Cleven on the street he wouldn’t have looked twice or noticed it at all. “No, unlike some people here I do actually work for a living and pay my own bills.” Whatever mirth the older man’s smile contained before quickly melted away. “You think you’re better than me.” It was a statement, not a question. A statement Gale didn’t deny.

-> read here on AO3! <-

.

@alienoresimagines ||

@joeyalohadream ||

@imasexypotato ||

@clevenhq ||

@neverfellforyou ||

@buckyclevens ||

@coastiewife465 ||

@shoequeeny ||

@onyxsboxes ||

@thru00thepages22 ||

@doctorstrangeherself

@shprka

@carnevol

[pearl-the-artist]

(You called for me) Gabriel / Reader Oneshot

Ok please be patient with me on this. I spent over 24 hours in a car on a trip to Russia a few days ago and it made me do something I've never dared to before: write a fanfic. On my humble Samsung notes.

If this isn't a total flop I might make more? I dunno? Maybe hop on ao3?

Criticism and feedback is appreciated ok thank youuu have fun

Another restless night, another hour spent lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling above you. The room was shrouded in the comforting night air, more illuminated than usual by the soft glow of the full moon outside.

You look at the clock on your nightstand; precisely midnight. Two hours after your drunken father came home again, letting his pent-up frustrations and anger out on you in a one sided yelling match. Of course, as usual, neither was your mother of any support; only giving you that same disapproving, disdainful glare. You were never really welcome, not even in your own home- your parents biggest mistake lingering around only to weigh them down, and remind them of what they could've had. Or so they've told you, many, many times before. Tonight was no exception.

When the broadcasts first announced the new threat infesting the county, "alternates" they called them, you were, admittedly, both terrified and somewhat relieved. You were never really one to believe in the supernatural, but who knows, your parents were just superstitious enough to maybe fall for their schemes.

The first announcement had been around, what, a year ago now? Not much had really changed admittedly, although the population had begun falling drastically since then.

Your parents had of course used this opportunity to also confiscate your phone, the CRT TV in your room and old little MP3 player gifted to you by a relative, god forbid you let an alternate in to potentially threaten them, your own safety not even really a point for consideration to them.

Living with your parents was already hell, but getting by without your favourite albums and shows? Torture.

So tonight when you lied in bed unable to fall asleep, your mind wandering as usual, it may have wandered a little too far.

You recalled something you overheard your parents talk about. A friend of your dad's, a man of unwavering faith, who had been found dead in his own home a few weeks ago, seemingly in the middle of his usual prayers. Even though his family mentioned having seen an odd, ghostly figure outside their home that night, the doctors seemed to blame the cause of death on a brain hemorrhage.

It made sense, come to think of it. When you first saw the emergency PSA, it explained all kinds of methods to protect yourself from alternate attacks, one of which being avoidance of religion, faith, and philosophy.

So then, the alleged "ghost" that visted that poor man just might've been... Well.

This gave you a bad idea, but you weighed the options available to you.

Either you would die in a similar way as the old man, or... you might just get lucky and bargain with it. Alternatively, nothing happens, and you remain stuck with an unhappy married couple that hates each other as much as they hate you.

It was definitely stupid, but at this point it seemed like you had nothing to lose anyway. You weren't really much of a believer yourself, so you didn't exactly know how to pray, but you gave it your best shot. Sitting up in your bed, hands clasped together with a bowed head and closed eyes, you tried your best to focus.

If there was a god out there, may it hear your pleas. Wordless whispers called for help, begging to be heard, while you did all you could to try to concentrate on any spiritual connections. All the while you knew you may as well be praying to a literal demon.

A few minutes passed as you racked your brain for what to say before you stopped, your hands falling back into your lap.

What the hell were you doing? Yes you hated it here, and you couldn't even run away if you wanted to, but inviting an alternate to your house just like this? It was a death sentence, and not a pretty one, that much was certain.

You shook your head. It probably wouldn't have worked anyway. Right, this was all just some silly superstition, not that different from those "send this to 5 other people or you'll die tonight" chain e-mails. You laughed internally at how silly it was that you even thought this would work to begin with, and, admittedly, felt a brief sense of relief. You decided that you were ready to just go back to sleep, and just as you pulled your blanket up to crawl back underneath it- you almost jumped.

It was a voice, faintly audible outside your window. You didn't even process it until a few seconds after, a barely legible, strained whisper.

"I heard you praying."

You froze. A cold wave shot right to your stomach. Slowly, agonisingly so, you turned around to face your bedroom window.

A tall figure stood outside, its hands clasped together similarly to how you just had a few minutes ago. With long, flowing white robes and silver, wavy locks that reached down to his shoulders, he looked... Ethereal. Not to mention the massive, pure white wings folded neatly behind his back. His head blocked out the full moon, the light creating something almost like a halo around him, making him appear even more angelic.

"Woah."

You couldn't help the little gasp of awe. He seemed to find it amusing, his grin spreading a little too wide for comfort. Admittedly, you almost doubted if he even was an alternate at all. Maybe you'd come out a person of faith yourself, after this.

"Are you... An alternate?"

You whispered hesitantly, quiet enough to try to conceal the trembling in your voice and also not alert your parents sleeping upstairs, though you weren't sure if he actually heard you at all.

He didn't respond for a moment, tempting you to ask again, before that inhuman whisper was heard again.

"You called for me, and now I am here."

Avoiding your question, huh. Suppose he was an elusive sort. You quickly glanced around your room, eyeing the door in particular just in case; you really hoped your parents were asleep.

"May I... Come closer?"

You couldn't even recall the last time you were this polite to someone, though it was your best bet not to piss him off while he was still friendly, if you could even call it that. You had no point of reference, though he wasn't actively trying to harm you, so it was a start.

The angel, his smile unwavering, simply nodded, waving his arm in an invitation to approach.

It took a moment for you to will your body to move from the initial shock, but with slow, careful steps you moved to open the window to properly speak to him, a pleasant cool breeze inviting itself into your room.

"So... What's your name?"

Did alternates have names? Suppose they just took on the name of whoever they were trying to mimic. You leaned onto the window frame, trying to catch a good look at his face; and for the first time in god knows how long you were met with eyes that, albeit a bit creepy and lifeless, looked back into your own with an unfamiliar lack of hostility.

"You may call me Gabriel, child."

Gabriel? That name sounded familiar- Oh! The Saint Gabriel's church at the edge of town. Suppose that made sense, given his angelic appearance, if it wasn't just one morbid coincidence. Your thoughts and scrutinizing stare dragged on for a bit longer than you were aware of, though, as his voice pulled your attention back to him.

"Are you lost, my lamb? I can save you. Let me in. Let me into your mind."

The last bit seemed a bit more... Pushy than the rest, making your stomach feel just a little heavier. You gathered your thoughts anyway, trying to push that feeling aside for now. You did do this for a reason, after all, though now that he was actually here you were starting to second guess things.

Gabriel seemed to take note of your hesitation after a while of you not responding.

"Open your eyes, my lost little one. Look at me. I can grant you anything you wish for. You just need to let me in."

An odd mix of dread and comfort you'd never felt before settled in, and the feeling was almost... Refreshing, in a way. You quickly glanced back up at him, and he was still staring at you, ever so patiently, eerily.

"Uhm... I was just- well, it's probably kind of silly."

No backing out now, not when he was already here. Even if you wanted to, you don't think he'd let you go so easily. As you verbally stumbled over your own thoughts, he simply waited, his unblinking eyes staring into you, gouging out your soul. Or so it felt.

"I just thought... Is it possible for, well... Is there a chance for humans to be able to ally with alternates? Can I join you?"

Surprisingly, that got his smile to falter, if only a little bit. A flicker of emotion you couldn't quite explain showed in his eyes- surprise, perhaps, or consideration.

"What for, my child?"

That uncanny whisper of his never gave away any emotion, monotone and unfeeling, yet not unfriendly. Admittedly, his question made you pause; you hadn't exactly thought of how to explain this to him. You hadn't even expected him to show up at all.

Fidgeting nervously, unsure of whether to tell him the truth or not, you tried to think of what to say. Despite your rationality screaming at you for being an utter moron, you knew you were in too deep at this point.

"I don't think I'm any good to these people at all anymore, I just... don't know what to do anymore. With myself. I have nowhere else to go. And, maybe..."

You weren't sure if you should say it or not, you already let more vulnerability slip than you wanted to. But your spite driven words were quicker than your brain, and man did it feel good to open up for once.

"...maybe for revenge, also."

Gabriel listened to you surprisingly attentively, very interested in your words. At your last statement, he perked up with an almost malicious twist to his grin. Before he could respond, though, you suddenly heard the sound of your parents creaky old bedroom door and footsteps from upstairs. And you could tell by the sound of them that it was your mother. And she was pissed.

For a very panic filled moment you weren't sure what to do, your thoughts racing- instincts called for you to jump into bed and pretend you were asleep like you usually would... but with Gabriel here, you couldn't- and that's when you realized you really only had two real options.

Stay here, and continue living this miserable life, and also deal with the imminent outburst of your mother.

Or go with him, and then... Well, nothing and no one could possibly guarantee what would happen to you then.

"Choose wisely, my dear lamb."

Your dilemma seemed to be rather palpable to the "saviour" as he pulled you out of that mental spiral, and you were rather grateful for it. As much as it made you nauseous with uncertainty and anxiety, you finally snapped out of that paralysis and turned towards the window.

"Please, help me. This is the only favor I'll ever ask of you. I will do anything you want in return, I promise."

You began to plead in an urgent, hissed whisper, practically leaning out of the window, causing him to take a step back.

Desperation and panic shook your words as you glanced back at your bedroom door.

"Get me out of here."

He chuckled, an amused sound mixed with something you couldn't quite explain that made you feel more fuzzy than you'd care to admit.

"Come. Come to me, my child. Step outside."

For the first time tonight hesitation became a foreign concept as you practically leapt out that window. Your bare feet felt the cold gravel beneath, just in time as the door to your room swung open.

The angered yelling of your mother were drowned out by the feeling of suddenly being lifted off the ground, Gabriel taking you up into his arms like your weight was akin to a feather.

He was cold, lifelessly so. And yet the soft silken robes, the way he held you in his arms, and his deceitfully promising whispers were lulling you into a sense of security you hadn't felt in a long, long time.

"A lost little lamb, asking their shepherd for guidance..."

His eerie, yet strangely comforting laugh filled your ears once more over the noise of your mother not yet realizing you weren't in your bed. You're surprised she wasn't hearing him at all. Maybe it was another mind game of his.

"You made the right decision. I knew you would. Such a smart, yet scared little thing you are, are you not?"

You leaned your head against his chest, sighing deeply, beginning to forget what you were ever doubtful about during the start of this whole fiasco. Your weight began to sink into his arms as you relaxed. He held you a little tighter in turn.

"Of course I shall guide you, my child. Come with me; you will be mine. You will be safe."

Just as the furious woman realized to check the opened window, Gabriel vanished as swiftly as he appeared, leaving behind the sight of nothing but an empty garden, peacefully quiet, as if you were never there.

[inquisitornocturn]

okay, but why do i have to go on a short trip when all i want to do is write. life truly is unfair

[coffeebanana]

okay, everyone tell ao3 to be good so i can actually update mtl fic tonight

[ra-archives]

Ah yes its 'Follow the Lights' time where we get to watch everyone in the chain get shocked half to death because they had the audacity to simply exist.

Lu-tober day 14

Prompt: Electrocution From my Goretober prompt list

*TW* A bit of lighting and Wars being shocked. Its not very graphic, but figured I'd throw this on there anyway

Experimenting with art styles? More like I didn't have time for todays prompt but still wanted it to be colored so I decided to just go a messy version of my texturing style and hoped it looked good without lines. Honestly its not terrible, could use a bit of clean up but otherwise pretty okay.

IS IT RAMBLE TIME YES IT IS

'Follow the Lights' is a fic written by CluelessMoose on Ao3. 'Don't Go Into the Light' is the follow up alternate POV fic, and they are both fantastic. Expect more angsty art based on this fic.

The idea behind both of them is a Chain meets Wild fic, except everyone gets scattered across hyrule between a bunch of different shrines. Super angsty, and is definitely on the more extreme side, but is also fantastic. Come here to get your helping of hypothermia, heatstroke, blood, gore, unreliable narration and a lot else. Its essentially just kicking the chain while they're down and I love it. Especially Wild, he gets kicked a lot.

[undercat-overdog]

I’ve been thinking recently about all the comment culture discussions and the recent talk around authors’ archive-locking their fic and one of the things that bothers me is how I never really see those discussions centered around the author. The comment conversations are a mix of reasons why readers don’t comment, how to comment, and why comments are good, but I’m not sure I’ve seen something that centers the author as person. Instead it’s the broader community and its desire for “content” that’s centered: comments are good because they keep authors writing (which is, I think, broadly true though people vary in the particulars), but it’s hard to comment (also broadly true, also varies in the particulars), but lack of feedback means some authors stop writing (also also true). The goal seems to be to keep the fic flowing.

And no one is owed comments and no one is owed fic and if it’s harmful to your mental health to comment, or harmful to your mental health to keep your fic online, that’s far more important. Please, don’t take me as saying that you need to comment or that you need to keep making fic available. Reader and/or author, what is best for you comes first; what you are able to do or want to do comes first.

(As for the talk about how authors are bad for archive-locking fic and that they should be shamed and scolded for doing so? No sympathy. I have less than zero patience for that argument. It’s more than fine to feel sad or grieved that you have lost a story you loved or can no longer access it - it is sad! It’s why I download stories now. But an author can do as they wish with their creations; no one is owed fic.)

But none of this gets at the author as person. These discussions seem to return to the personal reasons why a reader wouldn’t comment and how the author as content producer is more likely to write if they get feedback, the goal to get people to comment so fic continues to be produced: put money in the vending machine so you can get a snack. But I think at least some of authorial angst is driven less by comments per se and more by the desire to be recognized and feel seen as people and not fic-producing machines. Authors have anxiety too. Oh, do some of us have anxiety!

To use me as an example, since I’m the only person I truly know: I have almost deleted fic or moved it to an unrevealed collection multiple times because of anxiety that is tied to feels of either not being seen or being seen and intentionally ignored; I almost did so yesterday. It hurts to be ignored, especially when you know that your fic was read and seen but ignored. And that would be one thing - no one’s required to like my work or my friends’ works but to pretend your story is unique when you’re clearly very, very influenced by those works to the point of rewriting dialogue and using the same plot points with the same plot items. It makes me as a person feel ignored and it is currently killing my motivation to write, because at times I am a fainting flower. (To be very clear, my reaction is me, and no one owes me feedback or whatever, or to listen to my navel-gazing.) And I don’t like when my friends and fellow authors are seen then ignored either: that very much makes me angry. But yes, anxiety. It's easy to feel invisible or to feel like you're not worth recognizing.

I do want to note that there are circumstances in which acknowledgement and recognition is owed. If you take direct inspiration from someone’s plot, or rewrite it, that needs to be acknowledged, and it bothers me when it’s not: it feels like being used. Likewise, one place readers do have an obligation to comment, barring extenuating circumstances, is if they are given a gift fic as part of an exchange or event that they signed up for.

So idk. I guess what I’m saying is that I often feel that people don’t see that there’s a person behind the ao3 author’s name and that person’s not recognized. It might be that which stings the most.

(While I used  “author” throughout, this applies to all people in fandom who create and share their works. I am an author, so that’s the perspective I’m speaking from, but there are many creative perspectives that are no less important. And of course, “writer” and “reader” are not exclusive categories and I’d guess that most of the former are also the latter. Likewise “artist” isn’t exclusive, nor “podcaster” or so on.)

One last point: I’m not sure it’s talked about how long it can take to write something? I’d guess that most of my one-shots have taken at least two or three dozen hours to write/edit/post and I’d say I’m probably of average speed (when I’m writing lol). For most authors, writing’s not quick; 5k isn’t dashed off in an afternoon but might take 40+ hours. It’s a labor and for most of us it takes time.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly lmao 2024 lambda literary award finalist wynnstannery

[mariocki]

Fat Man on a Beach (HTV, 1974)

"I'm going to read some more poems now. Erm. It may be that if you want to go and have a cup of tea, this would be a good time. I know that's what you masses are like. The mention of poetry and off you go."

[killuaisaprincess]

THREE YEARS OF WRITING 🧁 (or close enough!)

Lemme start by saying I am tired. One hater takes enough out of me, I have ADD hypersensitivity, so yeah, still kinda recovering!

I wanted to make this something super happy! And actually on time, but literally, one day later, today some asshole wants to show up in my tumblr inbox and complain? And it was about the old me! So I'm doing it early! I’m here to celebrate my growth! Fuck them! Lol 🖕🎉

They were basically, oh, you’re not Q! You’ve fallen off! No, I’m not! Q is dead! And Q was never truly entirely me! I will always be grateful if she hadn’t taken the first step, I wouldn’t be here, but Q got scared even writing the simple niche of Gon carrying Ki more than once! I still remember that authors note Q wrote apologizing! I wanna laugh at her! Like she owed anyone anything! It was like her fourth fic, I think.

I get her, part of her still lies in me! Like I’m sorry to that person you’re so insecure and pathetic that someone changing and growing into a confident person who writes what she totally likes full on indulgence! Bothers you! She was always in there okie! She was just scared! 

Creating Qutie was the first step. And I’m proud of her and how far she’s come! I don’t care anymore if everyone hates me! I know most probs do! I am confident and happy about my presence here! And love that I can speak up without fearing anymore! Realizing I don’t fit! Or belong with the fandom was the best thing that ever happened to me! I don’t forgive the og hater/stalker and made me poof Q, but I am actually thankful to them. 

My third year anniversary of writing is coming up on Sept, 4! 

And I probs would’ve made a speech about how happy I am and how far I’ve come then too! So consider this that! Except it probs would’ve been 50 tags cuz that’s my style lol 😚

No matter what anyone says I am proud of me!

I love my writing, and I love my fics! It really just is the simple concept of imagining finding an author you like! And then there are tons of works ready for you to read! Even if they're small thingies like mine! I was into GK back in 2012, but I was young and there wasn't any GK really, and plus after CAA I was just depressed there was nothing there for me. So I left! And then 2020 of June I fell back into Gonki!

I watched tons of reactors and got back in, but I couldn't find anything that was my taste fic wise, so I just took a leap of fate, I found maybe one fic of Gon carrying Ki maybe one and billions that I did not like! So I decided to do it for me!

I wanna be with Gonkillu forever! I don't wanna imagine a world where I leave again! But on the chance it ever does happen? Look what I've done for me! I've become that author I would like with tons of fics all ready to read! For me! 90+ will be there if it does happen.

And nothing pleases me more! I do reread my fics as is! But the idea of knowing me of the future should something ever happen has that... it's the best feeling!

And no one will take that from me! When I couldn't find anything I wanted in 2020 I didn't go to writers and go WAHHH WAHH WAHHH DO WHAT I WANT I took action. So no loser anon is gonna stop me. If you liked the old me become her, but I like the new current me more! Who goes full in no fear!

I do wish there was a GK world and I will say stuff like that! Cuz I do wish there was! But I've never gone to a writer and been like dooo this for meee, like!

I put my money where my mouth is and am creating the GK world I want for myself!

Thank you, me! For the three years of writing! Here's to many more!

I’m on a little teeny tiny island by myself! I need a cute flag 🥺 IT HAS TO BE PINK OMG WITH GON CARRYING KI AND KI WEARING A CUTE PINK DRESS AND LITTLE BUNNY EARS 🥺 he’s a little bunny 🐰 

[baejax-the-great]

I think some of the arguments about fan interpretations of characters and OOCness forget a fundamental part of human nature which is this: each of us perceives the world and the people in it in slightly different ways based on our own experiences.

Most people have certain characteristics they consider fundamental to their Blorbo and some characteristics that are less important and could be changed, ignored, or scrapped for AU purposes. Unfortunately, which specific characteristics fall into which category are not going to be the same from person to person. Sometimes the overlap between two people's interpretations will be huge, and those two people will probably enjoy the same fan content. Sometimes not so much.

Personally, I write for a ship that were childhood friends that became lovers. In many AUs, people have them meeting for the first time in adulthood, and for me, that changes the nature of the ship and their characters so much that I can't really get into it. I consider their childhood friendship fundamental to them as people, and those authors don't. Which is fine. Many other people like those AUs. Nobody here is really in the wrong, we just have different opinions on what makes these particular Blorbos them.

In almost all cases, someone out there will find your interpretation of a character OOC. And that's fine. Hopefully they are polite and simply choose not to read your fics/engage with your HCs/whatever. But I think all of us have had the experience of reading a wildly OOC take and seeing other people enthusiastically going along with this "wrong" interpretation of the characters and thinking, "What??!?!"

It's fine. It's normal. It's annoying as hell (people are wrong on the internet), but it's inevitable. And if you find that interpretation particularly heinous to your Blorbo sensibilities, the block button is your friend.

[nettlestingsoup]

i resolved one of my [fix this] notes on the red thread au and immediately had to create another; for the first time in my life, writing without any kind of plan is coming back to bite me

[aroaessidhe]

finishing some desperate glory and being like, huh, nobody told me this doesn’t have a romance! nice! and then going into the tag and seeing someone talking about how good the surprise central romance is????? where.......

[harrowharkwife]

swear to god if i open a fanfic ONE MORE TIME only to be greeted with an author's note saying "i asked chatgpt to tell me a story about-" i am going to go fucking NUCLEAR

[selffagellation]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ghost (Sweden Band) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Dewdrop | Sodo, Reader Additional Tags: why is there no relationship option for dew/reader what, well this is an x-reader fic so be warned, Explicit Sexual Content, Prime Mover Reader, Cheating, papa's a cuck lmao, unspecified papa emeritus, Mildly Dubious Consent, some CNC elements at the start but the sex is completely consensual, dew is just pushy lol, Choking, Knotting, Daddy Kink, title is a lord huron lyric i'm sure you're shocked, Not Beta Read, so if there's typos or mistakes or whatever just. deal with it idk man Summary:

You are the Prime Mover, the official church-sanctioned lover of Papa Emeritus himself, but he just hasn't been paying attention to you like he used to. One of his ghouls, however, seems to have his eye on you...