#i don't have an ao3 account

[moa-broke-me]

Hey guys...

I published my first chapter for my Jasico Fairytale AU!

[aceduooooooooooooooooooooooooo]

I have actually never written any online only on paper in my room and in my head and its all final fantasy 7 aus

*you don't have to have posted any, just written some

[hime-bee]

Homicipher has a tag on AO3 now, babes, started by this bitch here ✌

Mr. Scarletella is my first victim 😌

[kuuyooo]

Cannibal tommy was the best fucking thing to ever happen to me shout out to those fanfics where he had enough and ate dream in exile I love yall authors who wrote them🙏‼️‼️

[naswoop]

Brief interlude between isat fanarts to draw @dekupalace's In Stars and Time au because I am utterly obsessed <-(said while vibrating with excitement)

Lil bonus pencil sketch under the cut

[arielthedaydreamer]

Ineffable Infinity - Good Omens oneshot

Aziraphale was done.

Done with the Metatron, done with archangels. The Apocalypse, Armageddon, the Second Coming, the struggle, the abyss between him and Crowley, the hellfire burning right in front of him. Inexistence. The end. He didn't want to think about it. He wanted it all to stop.

And in that moment, right about to be burned for his final act of treason, he realized that he did not need to want. He could stop. If not the hellfire, or time itself, then his time. He could stop. With a simple miracle. Who would notice? And he did.

He closed his eyes. The fire disappeared. Everything stopped.

He was in a dark and timeless space, behind his eyes, within. But he was not alone. He wished there to be light.

-Welcome, Aziraphale. -Said the familiar voice, in perfect synchrony with the light's arrival. It was good. -My clever, clever angel. You found me.

-...God?

-The one and all.

-I'm...gonna die now, won't I? The hellfire... or... am I dead already?!

-You are, -Said the Lord, - and you are not. Both at the same time. You are out of time, and out of space. Only here, and now, can one meet me.

-Was... this in your plan?

-Well, yes, of course.

-All of it? The Second Coming? And me thwarting it? Armageddon too?

-All of it.

-Why?

For a moment, there was silence.

-If only I could make you understand...but if you could, you would become...

Aziraphale felt, for a moment, that he might have had this conversation before. It lasted a single instant, and God's voice returned.

-No matter. You can't really understand.

-Inneffable. -Sighed Aziraphale. -I know.

-Inneffable...-God hesitated. -Perhaps... But I will give you another word.

-Another... word?

-Endless.

-Endless?

-Yes. Completely endless, Aziraphale. The possibilities are, have always been, endless. I can see it right now. As I talk to you.

-And... what do you see?

The angel was becoming less and less afraid of asking questions to the voice he once feared. Here, now, he understood why mortals called The Lord "father", or "mother". It was familiar. Giant, but welcoming. He knew it. Not entirely, but a tiny, infinitely tiny bit of it, he knew. His mind conjured the image of a drop of water, in conversation with the ocean. It was enough for him not to fear.

-I see -Responded God,- your first breath. I see you gain consciousness, in darkness, no Earth, no light, before everything. Do you remember it?

-Yes. - Said Aziraphale. The feeling was welcoming, all over him. He did remember his birth.

-And I see the end of the world. -Said God. - I see it end with Adam, as the nuclear bombs explode and the war between heaven and hell begins.

Aziraphale, puzzled, looked up. As if God was up. Was God up? Could She be down? Or around him? Or everywhere? He never questioned it before.

-Fantastic. You begin to grasp it! -Said God. -Though you never will finish to grasp it, of course. But you are right. I am everywhere. And everywhen.

Indeed, you cannot see that ending to the world. You and Crowley, and Adam himself, and many others chose to miss it when you averted the apocalipse. But there is another universe, many other universes in which you did not avert it, and I can see them right now.

Do you understand? Just as I see you and Crowley arise from divine matter, in what you call the past; I see you and Crowley dissappear forever, him in holy water and you in hellfire, in a moment you call "never". Because you both avoided it as well. But I can see the world where you didn't.

And I see your eyes shine in a fiery red as you join Crowley, both falling from heaven as one. And I can see Crowley's white wings soar in heaven, a heaven that he rules, with you. Oh, I see you and Crowley living a human life. Falling in human love. Dying a human death.

You don't understand it, do you? I see pain. I see joy. I see grief. I see love. I see death and birth. I see the future, the past, the present, and the multiple versions of "never". And it's all in front of me, really, at this very moment. I suppose I could look at it through every existing eye, feel it with every existing soul, all at once, in this moment.

But even for me, Aziraphale, that would be too much.

That is why I choose to focus. Here. With you. Right now. Both of us, blissfully unaware of infinity.

None of this multiverse, this endless infinity, is a plan, Aziraphale. It is my existence. I simply am. The creator, the creature. The observer, the observed. Above, below. As I opened my eyes so did the cosmos. As I once gained consciousness, so it all began.

Do you understand now? Even a fraction of it?

-I'm... trying. -He smiled.

-Yes. And you are doing perfectly well.

Then you may begin to comprehend, Aziraphale. I could promise you, that you will leave this conversation and fall not towards death, but into Crowley's arms. I can see it happen, in endless moments, endless universes. But the worlds in which you die will always exist.

Understand it. For every world in which you live, there is one in which you die. For every world ended, there is a world being born. For every moment of love, there is another moment of grief. For every smile in your face, there is another face covered in tears. And it's all in front of me. I see it all, I am it all, always. So it's my turn to ask you: why? Why would I interfere with any of it?

-But why must there be tears at all?

-How could you love someone you've never longed for?

Aziraphale was quiet.

-The choice is yours, Aziraphale. You are perfect as you are, as you have always been, to make that choice. What do you long for? Which world will you travel to? Which ending will you see?

If you want Crowley, my dear, run to him. Do not ask me for permission. Your possibilities are endless, and I am merely all of them. I have no single plan. But you do. You have chosen your path, now follow it.

Aziraphale's angelic head spun in attempt to understand. But he could not. Yet, he knew, felt what he needed to do.

For once in his life, he would follow his plan.

And as with that thought, he felt his entire body burn.

He knew he had crossed the hellfire. He was now lying on the cold ground, beyond the pyre. He felt a pair of arms embracing him. He felt tears, heard sobs. When he opened his eyes, he saw Crowley.

[syntheticsystem]

thranto shorts 01

count: 1331

tone: light, humour

dynamic: thrawn/eli (thranto)

synopsis: after a meeting, eli accidentally leaves his ledger out; thrawn notices one of the commander's doodles and decides to ask him about it.

12+ (language, light innuendo)

Yet another day, yet another meeting with yet another smug, inept bastard of an imperial ‘professional’. Any questions, he’d asked at the end, and Eli could think of one: where they hell do they find these people?

There was nothing ‘professional’ about him whatsoever — and Eli had spent the past ten minutes proving as much in an impassioned rant.

While deciding which aspect of the man’s krayt spit to next criticise, a contemplative voice cut clean into his rage: “You never said that you draw, Commander.”

Eli felt his stomach drop. He turned to the Admiral and stiffened at the sight of him head-buried in a ledger. His ledger.

Suffering the likes of that damn bureaucrat had left Eli so annoyed — so totally riled up — that he’d made a mistake he’d sworn never to make.

He’d left the book out and open.

And the Admiral had taken a curiosity in it.

“I don’t draw,” Eli said defensively, voice so terse it could break, “I just… doodle, sometimes — when I take notes. Helps me focus, sir.”

“Mm…” The Admiral hummed in a way entirely unnerving to Eli. He was too closely focused on whatever he was looking at — and Eli dreaded to think what that might be.

“These lines, Commander,” and he flipped the ledger for his aide to see, pointing at a small caricature of himself in the corner of a page, “they are harsh, jagged; deeply-impressed into the paper. Indicative, perhaps, of resentment.”

Eli reddened at record-speed.

There were certainly worse pages for the Admiral to have happened upon, and Eli sent up a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn’t. Instead, he’d kept it open to the page it was already on. But now, the Chiss was presenting his usual brand of intrusive analysis — one which Eli found far more tolerable when applied anywhere but him.

Thrawn wandered over, taking a place beside his aide. He held the ledger out between them as he traced a hovering finger between details.

“However, I do not appear to be the figurehead of this resentment.” Maybe not, but he was starting to be. “Though the tilted, half-moon shape you have used for my eyes suggests outright anger, you have given me a sword — thus indicating… righteous anger.”

He looked to his aide now, and delivered his conclusion: “Commander, you seem to have projected your own fury at Admiral Karallo onto me.”

“Great, sir; saves me a trip to the shrink.” Eli grumbled. “Can I have it back now?”

“But I’m not finished.” Thrawn’s eyes widened with a strangely intense curiosity. Like he was just getting to the good part.

“By making me the hero of your doodle,” he went on, “you afford me a romantic quality — in both senses of the word. Indeed, the careful attention paid to the curvature of my lips almost suggests something… sensual. Perhaps, then, it is neither just resentment nor anger, but frustration.”

“Wonderful insight, sir.” Eli said dryly, sliding a hand under his ledger and preparing to take it back. He couldn’t see exactly where this train of thought was headed, but disliked it all the same.

Red eyes burning straight into his own, Thrawn asked with all the tact of a train through a town square: “Are you sexually frustrated, Commander?”

“Sir!” Eli exclaimed in what was almost a yell — and snatched the book away, slamming it shut with the force of a starship to an asteroid. “That's that's enough of that. And next time, I would appreciate it if you didn’t go through my things.

For a moment, Thrawn simply stared at him. The very blankness of his face was itself an expression of surprise.

“Understandable, Commander.” The Chiss’ words came slow as he bowed his head apologetically. “However, the book was left open.”

“Alright, alright.” Eli huffed. Sexually frustrated — oh sweet stars above, he wasn’t living that one down. That would haunt his mind for the rest of the day, probably through the night, and possibly even the rest of the week.

Through gritted teeth, he spoke: “Look. Truth is, I don’t think too much about whatever I’m doodlin’ — and I suggest, sir, that you don’t either.”

“Very well, Commander.” An uneasy pause; there was something else. A look of deliberation in the Admiral’s red haze. “Might I keep it?”

“What?”

“If you can bear to part with it,” Thrawn elaborated, “I would like to keep the ‘doodle’ as a… memento. I have never been drawn before, Commander.”

“Aw krayt spit!” Eli rolled his eyes. “Sure you have.”

The Chiss’ gaze narrowed upon him, scalding with new intensity. What silence passed between them was the kind, and long enough, to make you think you’ve made a mistake. It was too late by the time Eli realised his.

“So then, you have other doodles of me, Commander?”

“Now hold up there,” nervous laughter half-scattered Eli’s words, “where’d you get that idea?”

“The certainty of your claim implies that you know, for a fact, I have been drawn before.” Thrawn paused to collect his argument. “Perhaps the Chimaera’s officers make it a common occurrence, to draw their Admiral. Or, perhaps you have made other drawings.”

Well, he had him on that count. All he needed to do was give a flick through the ledger — and Eli found himself thankful for Thrawn’s obsessive analysis. At least that had stopped him from looking elsewhere until he'd finished a thorough examination.

“Could I propose a deal, sir?”

“Go on.”

“If I give you this damn doodle,” he brushed the ledger as if it were dirty — and today, it certainly felt like it was; “will you quit askin’ about it?”

The deepest look of consideration then hung heavy on those blue ridges. Thrawn contemplated his decision with the weight of war.

Eventually, he relented: “For today.”

“Nope. Any day. Forever.”

“No deal, Commander,” Thrawn shook his head gently, “I am afraid we will both have to compromise. One week.”

“A year!” Eli shot back, incredulous.

With the twitch of a brow, Thrawn suggested: “Two weeks.”

Eli gave out an exasperated sigh. Losing his resolve, he countered: “Half a year?”

“One month it is, then.” Thrawn said, a thin smirk upon his lips. Those fucking lips – they were the real villain here. They were what had tripped Eli up — the attention paid to the curvature of this and that…

He tore his eyes away from them and instead considered the ledger in his hands. Then, he thought to the drawing inside.

Hell, he’d be glad to get rid of the thing, if these were the kinds of problems it caused. He opened the book to its latest entry and, without too much care, tore out the doodle from the page.

“Deal, sir?”

Holding out his hand, Thrawn nodded: “One month, no questions. Deal, Commander Vanto.”

With that, Eli pressed the scrap into Thrawn’s cool palm. A weight lifted as he did, and that was that. For at least a month, he could pretend the whole thing hadn’t happened. After that, he’d have to start worrying.

Burning the book seemed like an increasingly good option.

They set off for the bridge side by side then. Not a word was spoken or exchanged as they twisted through corridors and corridors. The Admiral had eyes only for the drawing, which he pored over every step of the way.

Only once reaching the turbolift did Thrawn finally pocket the thing, careful not to crease it, like something precious.

“You know, Commander,” and he must’ve known he was pushing it now, the way just a hint of something smug peppered his words, “it is unusual you decided to draw only my head and hands. The face is important for expression. One hand, perhaps, for the sword. But to give both such detail, down to tendons and veins… Is there something about my hands you find especially–”

“Oh no you don’t,” Eli cut in, “not till next month, sir.”

And hopefully not then, either.

is there any reason why eli would take notes by hand? not really. however, I can make the sillies do what I want, and what I wanted was a silly confrontation about doodling.

I'm considering posting some of my more relaxed, lower-effort, shorter pieces (>1500) on tumblr instead of ao3. this was my test run, so thanks for reading (if anyone has?) and I hope you enjoyed.

feel free to check me out on ao3 :)

thrantover & out

[pastelaspirations]

Is your fanfic on ao3 or somewhere else?? I need to get to reading it lol

W e l l. U m. Okay. Like, I should have expected this. Especially with a certain TWO people going around, clamoring for people to read it. Am side-eying you, Moldiee and Anayz, h a r d-

So uh. Y e a h, it's on ao3. Linked here for your convenience. JUST. It's l o n g. It doesn't start out that way, it starts off short, but then just gets longer and l o n g e r and-

Let's just say you're going to be reading this for a while probably

[grandpa-boyfriend]

My personal headcanon is that Morty would eventually use the word "grandpa" like "daddy" for Rick.

Like early on in the relationship, he he avoids the word all together just because it feels weird.

But then something slips some day, like Rick does something an old person would do and Morty just offhandedly makes a joke like, "Haha, looks like you're getting old, Grandpa!" And he tries to laugh it off as he elbows Rick but Rick is just, like, staring at him.

And Morty gets nervous because Rick is silent but when he looks over he's surprised to find a blush and a secretly-into-it-but-acting-annoyed scowl on Rick's face and then it clicks.

So Morty starts using the word "Grandpa" against Rick.

Rick gets pissed he messed something up on an adventure?

"I'm sorry, Grandpa."

Rick pisses Morty off and he wants his words to really sting?

"I don't want to talk to you right now, Grandpa."

Morty feels like teasing Rick during dinner with the family (who don't know anything in this scenario)?

"Pass the salt, Grandpa?"

When they're fucking and Morty wants to make Rick lose his mind even more and fuck him into oblivion?

"Harder, Grandpa."

When they're just cuddling in bed and he wants to flashbang Rick with with on onslaught of overwhelming emotions?

"I love you, Grandpa."

[morverenmaybewrites]

Apparently my fic broke containment a few years ago? It got talked about on Tiktok of all places?

And people were talking about how it hasn't updated?

[bakedbakermom]

they are all things (read on ao3)

post-ep for "all things" // T // 535 words tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

Mulder stirs when Scully slips into bed beside him – a pleasant surprise, though not a wholly unexpected one. They’ve been slipping into each others’ beds for a little while now.

[moa-broke-me]

hey so I've decided on a title for my WIP, it's Ritual Sacrifice! And I'm trying to get Luke in there as a proper character, not just a cameo, so I'm thinking that, while Nico's living with Sally and Percy, he and Luke work at the same convenience store. What do you think?

this is the one I'm talking about by the way

[recurringwriter]

It's the Third of October! Happy Marianas Trench Day to those who celebrate! I've posted my analysis of Haven and the Hero's Journey on Ao3 for ease of reading since it ended up at nearly 8k words.

I've been a fan of these guys since about 2015, and in that time the music has really become so important to me. I love story and plot, so I thought it would be cool to do a breakdown of how Haven fits with the structure it's themed around. Check it out if you're interested!

From Esoteric to Common Prose: Exploring the Narratives of Haven by Recurring

[midnight-soulless-system]

*Cutely writes the most fucked up fic for RWRB that I KNOW would destroy me as an introject. Just to fuck with everyone else in the fandom*

[meownotgood]

Hey, just so you know, the person who plagiarized your work hasn't actually deleted their ao3 but changed it to sugucidal. While looking through my one fic I know they commented on it showed up like that. Figured you'd want to know so you can still block them.

oh wow. the saga continues apparently because every single one of the fics this account has ever posted were stolen from me. like.... I'm not sure what could compel a person to do this....

[muppet-chaos]

SMH I can't believe @hyperfocusedcloneshipper gets all the iterationshipping anon hate when we literally organized an entire fandom event for Mike4Mike ships. Where's the recognition 😔