#ao3 in bio

[heyitskai2]

hold on babe, i just uploaded my completed 48k enemies to lovers merthur fanfic to ao3 and im reading the comments

[daydreamerwonderkid]

"Another AO3 author with too much time on his hands"

Where the fics at?

[moss-the-mage]

Just saw a fic tagged as "free palestine btw" as if that's in any way relevant or appropriate. This is an archive. There's no algorithm, and there are no viral movements or tags.

[civetfish]

Nerd-to-nerd communication

Something super pointless and self-indulgent I've had on the backburner for a while. I love trying to make the pieces they gave us fit together!

Al-AN and Robin would absolutely bond over learning about each other's biology. I could talk about this forever but I'll get into all of the headcanons I have for these two in another post eventually

Below the cut is another version with some extra bits and pieces and the transcription

Transcript :

Architect Anatomy A. Architect "Brain" - Doesn't "store" information so much as allow for easy communication with the network B. Brainstem - connects the information received to the central nervous/circulatory system C. "Heart" - Circulatory system pumps the bioluminescent fluid to other organ systems and surface veins. Each node connects to a vast vasculature network D. "Kidneys" - Organs that filter the bioluminescent "blood" and other bodily fluids, absorbing and distributing collected material E. Nerve Center - Receives raw sensory data and filters it. Filtering can be unconscious or intentional

F. "Respiratory" Tract - Intakes gases or liquids and filters out material for use. Disposes of waste on exhale. Provides cooling to internal systems

The respiratory tract functions less like a set of lungs and more akin to a computer's cooling system, with the ability to absorb material from the environment to use in other parts of the body. It also would likely help the architect's body analyze the environment it is currently exposed to on a molecular level. It is also truly unidirectional, with the intake vents near the "collarbone" and the exhaust vents on both sides of the abdomen

The architect organ cache in-game felt like it was definitely not a complete model of the internal organs, so I wanted to come up with something to fill some more space. I also just really liked the idea of Al-An being capable of something similar to breathing, without having a respiratory system in the traditional sense. Feel free to use any of this in your own headcanons if you would like :)

BONUS - a gif of all the layers!

[erinwantstowrite]

Following you on both tt and tumblr is hilarious sometimes cause now I know exactly which tiktok edit inspired that spy x family au

it's like seeing directly into my mind. i saw that edit and my brain chemistry shifted and i was like "everyone needs to know what just happened"

[its-alittleobsessed]

Going through my ao3 bookmarks like an addict staring at a goddamn fentanyl-cocaine IV line.

[heyitskai2]

HEY Y'ALL!! every single chapter of my new fic like the love that discovered the sin (lover, be good to me) has been posted on ao3!! im so so excited to share this, it's been plaguing me for literally years.

GO CHECK OUT @mestrel to see the original ideas and art behind this work (it's super good guys i pinky swear)

[lafamilledelioncourt]

yesterday, I was writing a painful half-dead lesdaughter reunion where lestat is sobbing trying to hold his daughter's head on her neck as he attempts to save her.

today, I'm writing louis and daniel making out in a club while super freaky girl bumps in the background, and lestat stands there shell shocked and cuckolded by armand's fledgling.

anything is possible in this fandom, just saying

[garfunkelworld]

Summer after summer, he has to watch as beaming girls and boys pop off the tracks at King's Cross Station clutched to their parents' arms, bound for homecoming parties in large country houses where the sky is endless and they will play Quidditch all break, where there are as many treacle tarts and pumpkin pasties as their hearts desire and the love—just like the food—never runs out.

It is for children like them, not for children like Tom.

Tom's summers are spent in underground tunnels filled with the splattering echoes of German bombs raining down on them like a monsoon and reducing what was already little to even less.

He comes from nothing and every summer he is forced to return to nothing. Nothing is Tom Riddle's home.

[morning-star-joy]

move to ao3

hello my loves, after a lot of thinking about it the past few months, I've decided to move my works over to ao3 and to exclusively share any future fics on there. everything will still be up here for the time being.

yesterday it came to my attention that one of my fics was copy and pasted word for word, and while I'm sure it was just to troll, it made me feel sick. I know that was likely the intention, and I'm not okay with that. writing is such a huge part of who I am, as is that specific story, and I do not like the fact that somebody decided to do that. I don't know what they had in mind really, but it doesn't matter now.

I am taking measures from here on out to protect my stories and myself, and that means no more fics on here and no more anon. I'm sorry to all the lovely anons I've gotten, your messages are so special to me, but after getting a couple nasty ones last month, I don't like feeling fear whenever I see a new message in my inbox.

being on here used to be really fun, but for a long while it has just been sucking the joy out of me. I feel like I'm not myself on this site anymore. and I keep waiting for something to change, but it's not, so I have to make a change myself and remove what is hurting. I am still gonna be around to share memes, chat, talk the new Taylor album. but I won't be as active as I used to be.

those of you who have shared your experiences reading my fics have changed my life, and I love you forever and ever. thank you 💜

[nuvolisa]

Land where I land

It’s unusual for Jim to call him at the Police Station for anything. Even during the worst of cases, the officer has always tried to not get him involved or to come to him once everything was settled.

So, when he calls late at night, Bruce knows that something isn’t right. No villain attacks, no escapee from Arkham, no robberies, and no bomb threats: does Jason need to get bailed out of jail again?

Jim Gordon’s voice is somewhat sarcastic as he speaks over his desk’s phone. “You’ll find out when you see it.”

Bruce is not looking forward to it.

It’s late, too late for any sane and law-abiding citizen to be out at such an hour. What could’ve possibly happened to cause such a mess that he needed to get involved? Couldn’t Jim just have used the Batsignal if things were that bad?

Instead, when he enters the building, the old commissioner is snickering. Bruce is definitely not good with emotions, but he thinks he’s making fun of him. He doesn’t find it funny.

“What's going on?”

Bruce Wayne is confused, confused as to why the officer is so cheerful, confused about why he would call him here in the first place. Did he find his job that amusing?

“We’ve found this girl… well, let’s just say that she basically landed right on the back of an officer, and seemed to be confused, likely she’s an immigrant.”

Bruce was stunned.

“You called me here… for a kid who’s lost?”

James Gordon places a hand on top of his shoulder. “Do you know any French?”

This was going to be a long night.

There is a woman in the interrogation room, talking to what looks like a girl not older than fifteen, at least from her height. From behind the glass, he can’t see very well.

“Sophie, come out for now,” says Jim on the interphone, and the CPS worker obliges, waving tenderly at the girl she’s been interrogating.

Sophie Dallway comes to the other side of the interrogation room and fixes her skirt. Bruce notices that she must’ve dressed up in a hurry, but he understands: it’s quite late in the night.

“Did she tell us something?” asks Jim with a small amused smile under his mustache. Bruce’s on the verge of exploding.

“Not much, to be honest. She keeps telling the same story, she has no idea how she got here and what happened. She insists on letting her go, that she’ll find a way.”

“We can’t do that,”

“I told her that, she just started shaking.”

Jim looks down. “Good,” he says, sarcastically. Then he turns around to face Bruce, “Your turn now.”

“What?”

“Go in there and talk to her, Wayne.”

“But why?”

Jim shoves him out of the room with a half-hearted pat on the back. “You’ll guess soon enough.”

The interrogation room is surprisingly dark. The small yellow lamp hasn’t been changed since probably the 1960s and the empty metal chair doesn’t help to give a welcoming environment to a child. He can barely make out her silhouette, but he trusts Jim, he has to.

He opens up the folder on the metal, icy-cold table, and starts reading. “So, your name is…”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she completes the sentence for him, hesitantly.

Bruce is already lost, he doesn’t know what to say anymore. “You’re from Paris, is that correct?”

"Yes," she replies softly, "but I don't know how I ended up here in... Gotham, is it?" Her voice is tinged with confusion and a hint of fear, well hidden behind her thick, native French accent. He doesn’t fail to notice the urgency in her hand movements.

He scans the document one more time. Everything she has said to the CPS worker seems rather unfamiliar, he can’t for the life of him understand why he’s been involved in this case. He closes the folder and looks up sternly.

At that moment, it finally clicks. The teen is here, sitting in front of him, and she has two dark black pigtails that look almost blue under the light. Her eyes are two perfect sapphires with the tint of a calm sea. Her lips are in the shape of his mother’s, small and heart-shaped, and don’t hide the small pointy canines that Damian has. Despite the dark and gloomy atmosphere, the girl brightens the room, even with the terror easily readable in her pupils.

Bruce feels like fainting.

Marinette is rambling about needing to go back to Paris, but her words don’t fully reach his ears, it’s all rumbling background noise. The only thing he can hear is his racing heart, threatening to dig a hole and come out of his chest.

“Who are your parents?” he asks, with a stoic face, interrupting her quite abruptly. Bruce immediately notices his faux pas: he can’t let this overwhelm him, he can’t afford to be emotional anymore.

“Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng,” she answers, her eyes low on the ground. “They’re bakers…” she whispers. Bruce manages to catch it. The names are unknown to him.

“Do you have a number we can call?” he asks, but she shakes her head.

“No, I have their numbers saved on my phone, which is… back in Paris.”

This feels like a joke. He wants to turn around and ask Jim if it was Clark’s idea, but he realizes that whatever this ordeal is about, this poor girl, who looks so much like a carbon copy of himself, is disoriented and scared.

Bruce has a sympathetic look in his eyes. “Do you remember what happened right before you got here?”

Her voice is soft, it reminds him of someone.“I was in my room, getting up for school when I just… there was a blue light and I was here.”

He notices immediately that she is lying: her eyes look at her right, and she instinctively starts touching her face, her earrings, her neck. But why would she? Wouldn’t it be better for her to give the entire truth so that they can just send her home?

“That’s… peculiar,” he comments, trying to indicate that he doesn’t believe her. Not that he doesn’t believe she has just popped out of nowhere, which would be nothing compared to the sheer amount of strange things that happen in Gotham, but that she’s not telling the whole truth.

Her smile contorts into an embarrassed expression. “I know but… I can’t tell you much more.”

“Why?”

Marinette awkwardly fixes her posture. He can’t believe that such a petite girl, who wears pink ribbons and a pastel t-shirt for school, looks actually so much like him. “We… can’t really talk about what’s happening in Paris. Mayor’s decree. Technically, it’s the former mayor’s decree, but it’s still valid.”

That’s concerning, to say the least. He turns around to gesture to Jim that this is something they have to discuss. But what could possibly be happening in Paris that needs to be hidden from the rest of the world?

“I understand your fear, Marinette. But why is there an information block in there in the first place?”

The girl freezes. “I can… I can’t tell you,” she murmurs. His heart contorts at seeing the expression on her face, the same of a small puppy who has been abandoned. The irony of it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You can. You’re not in Paris right now, so any decree doesn’t affect you. I’ll make sure to protect you, don’t worry,” he says, trying his best to reassure her. Bruce is very good at faking confidence and charisma; but at real compassion and genuine affection? He’s hopeless.

Marinette still looks like she is being tortured, like she has seen a ghost. Yet, she starts explaining what exactly happened in the last two years. He understands her hesitance: magical jewelry, possessed people, domestic terrorism. This city is in dire need of help, and he knows what he will be talking about at the next Justice League meeting.

As he hears the girl explain and analyze the villain in detail, every doubt clears from his mind. That is certainly his daughter. If her overall look wasn’t enough, the way she describes accurately every move and every action taken by the villains to terrorize her city would convince anyone that this is his long-lost kid. From the way Hawkmoth lured in citizens using complex schemes, to the way Mariposa’s attacks are far more well-organized and diligently planned.

His mind starts wandering as the girl keeps on telling Paris’s story. Her skin is pale and reveals on her arms burn marks, old cuts, and bruises. She’s incredibly small and thin despite being the daughter of a baker, and it makes a lot of questions pop up in his head. She doesn’t have the body of a hero, but she sure has the mind of one.

The papers that the CPS worker gave him tell him that she’s fifteen. He tries to think who the mother of this girl could be. It was too early for both Talia and Selina, and the timeline doesn’t match with Vicky Vale either. He looks at her once more, and it hits him like a brick.

It couldn’t be. But also, it is the only possibility. He doesn’t want to believe his own mind, but logically he already knows who it is. Zatanna Zatara. It is impossible to ignore now: she looks exactly like her. A drop of sweat runs down his spine. Why didn’t she ever tell him?

Come to think of it, he hasn’t heard from the woman for fifteen years. His head hurt. Does that mean that Marinette has… No, it’s best to think about this later.

“Sir, are you okay?” she asks, seeing that he doesn’t seem responsive to her story. The sweet tone of her voice makes him feel another gut of pain in his chest.

He shakes his head. At that moment he realizes he hasn’t even told her his name. He wants nothing more than to dig a hole, crawl in it and die. He thankfully can’t hear Jim Gordon laughing his ass off in the other room, or else he would try to jump out of a window, no gear on.

“Yes, sorry. Call me Bruce, by the way. There’s no need for such formalities, I’m here to help.” He offers her a smile that looks so forced it could make her vomit.

She doesn’t look any better. “Can you help me go home, Bruce?” she pleads, eyes filled with tears and determination. Her voice, however, betrays her.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he replies. He needs to get out of here and fast. Bruce doesn’t know whether to strangle Jim Gordon or kiss him.

The contents of his stomach threaten to come out, and he quickly comes out of the room, trying to keep up his usual stoic demeanor. As he reaches Jim’s office, his eyes look bloodshot, and he has to consciously stop himself from trembling.

The old man is smiling smugly from his desk, and as he looks up from the paperwork he’s throwing around, he says: “So?”

Bruce tries his best to not scream, not yell at him ‘What the actual fuck, Jim?’, not throw the entire paper bin on the ground. His voice isn’t as cold as usual.

“Can we get a DNA test done?”

Jim’s laugh echoes in his ears, and it feels like mockery. Bruce desperately wishes he slept that night.

Sophie Dallway downs her coffee and makes her way to the room, a tad bit more awake than she was before. She looks at the necessary paperwork, and this looks like a complicated case, judging by how much she has to sign.

But as she pushes open the door, she’s met with silence. No one is there, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is gone. Bruce has already lost any trace of his daughter, mere minutes after meeting her.

Whole series here!

[asleepinawell]

Not an ask, but:

Hey, a while ago I asked both you and TheMaarika if it was ok for my gf to do a dub of Through Dark Waters. Both of y'all said it would be ok. The video is up on my gf's channel (AmeliaDVA).

I made very sure you were both credited :D

oh wow! this is really cool and I'm honored you liked me and maarika's work enough to make this. the art that's been made of my writing and collaborating with maarika over the years on comics has been one of the best parts of my fandom experience and seeing (hearing) a new dimension of that is extraordinary! the editing looks great. love the zooms and pans on the whale reveal. thank you so much for making this and sharing it with me and thank you also for crediting us both!

here's a link to the video for anyone interested (this was from a root/shaw (person of interest) fan fic i wrote in the world of the dishonored video game. maarika made an incredible comic of the opening scene):

[awhoreintheory]

Hey!

I'm new to the “Dick Grayson is Peter Parker's dad” trope, and I found your fic Welcome to the Circus. I'm enjoying it so much! I can't wait to read more! I guess I don’t really have a suggestion or question (yet), but I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed reading your fic, eheheheh. I’ll be waiting for new chapters (as long as needed! I don't mean to pressure you).

I can't wait to see Dick (and the rest of the Batfam) interact with Peter. I was wondering, since according to the tags, Dick is dating Wally—does this mean he's Peter's stepdad?! XD

Byeee

Hey hey hey!! Welcome to the rabbit hole that is Spider-man in Gotham!

I am super flattered and glad you're enjoying my fic omg?? I'm admittedly a slow writer, on top of school, but I try to make up for the time with big chapters. A new chapter is coming! Don't worry about the pressure, either, it helps motivate me!

Expect an equal amount of fluff to pair with the angst when Peter finally meets the bats! I'm putting the family in found <3

Also yes! Wally is gonna (technically) be Peter's step dad lol. ErinWantsToWrite is the one the really inspired that. Actually, the whole flash family kinda gets involved in much later chapters. I put a lot of hints in the tags for anyone looking lol

Thank you for the ask :)

[forever-fan]

Sing A Requiem For The Broken Songbird

So, I'm currently writing a fic on ao3. I'm writing chapter 5 rn.

The basic premise is that when Jason died, he met and fell in love with Danny/Phantom. However, when Jason was revived, he never knew that Danny was still half alive. Jason goes about the next six years (age 16-22) being brokenhearted and trying to distract himself from said broken heart.

One night, while on patrol, Jason sees a young man hanging out by the edge of a roof in Crime Alley. Jason approaches the man on the apartment building and finds out that the guy was just getting some fresh air. They end up talking for a bit but the man leaves for his apartment without ever sharing his name. Jason was in costume so clearly the man didn't know his name either.

Jason finds the man on the rooftop the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. Eventually, Jason learns the man's last name is Nightingale. One night, Nightingale reveals that he's a halfa and can tell that Jason is a halfa too. He offers Jason treatment for the damage that the "Lazarus Waters" and sudden revival inflicted upon Jason's core. Jason accepts and begins a multi-month detox.

Jason and Nightingale grow close and it becomes clear that they both developed feelings, but neither of them act upon it. When Jason asks Nightingale about this a week into getting ecto-supplements, Nightingale tells Jason how he once had a love. He explains that he met his love when his love was a ghost. Nightingale told Jason that his love had been revived. While Nightingale understood his love might live his life and fall for another, Nightingale himself couldn't bare to move on.

When Nightingale turns the question to Jason, the vigilante replies that it was a similar situation, but Jason was the one revived. Jason then tells Nightingale that because he and his boyfriend never technically broke up, Jason still views himself as in a relationship. Jason also makes it very clear that he does not support cheating. Nightingale and Jason end up agreeing on staying friends and becoming no more.

After another few weeks of Jason's treatment, the two begin to share drinks on the roof. They share stories of their lovers, but they never reveal anything that can identify who exactly their lover was. On a random night, the roof access door is opened by a little 5-year-old girl. (Yes this fic has an oc. Get over it.)

After calming his daughter from her nightmare and putting her back in bed, Nightingale explained that his ghost form was biologically male, but his physical human body was technically trans. He once transformed accidentally while his lover had momentarily blacked out. His daughter was the best accident of his half-life.

I haven't decided exactly how I want the two dumbasses to find out that Jason = Red Hood and Phantom/Danny = Nightingale, but it will happen. Anygays, this is how I'm spending my summer. Writing DCxDP fanfiction. Chapter 5 out soon.

[ladyyystark]

Im in need of this biodad fic where Peter feels replaced by Morgan. I dont care about Peter being the self-sacrificing idiot who likes kids and loved Morgan since the first time he saw her. I want him feeling betrayed, forgotten, unuseful, REPLACED. I want him feeling like he doesnt belong anymore to his family bc Morgan is there and it was so easy to forget him and build a new life while he was dead. I want him to be a dramatic and scared 16-year-old teenage boy who just woke up to lose all the life he knew. Let him be selfish for once for fucks sake.

+ points if Peter doesnt want anything to do with Morgan but Morgan was raised idolizing Peter and is so excited bc my brother is finally home! Now we can play together and he can make me fly like daddy showed me in the videos. Peter wants his old life back and Morgan cant wait to start living with Peter, so we have a teenager running away from a toddler but in the end, it gets better.

Im this close 🤏 to write it myself but too drunk to do it rn

or if anyone knows something like this or is writing it I will give you a donut if you share it with me 🍩