#ao3 m/m

[yaoi-makes-me-happy]

Guys, watch this fic. It's a WIP, but is worth reading. Hopefully the author will come back to it.

[thyrus-hart]

Chapter 2 Update - Crimson Crescent

Crimson Crescent (7462 words) by TerraCrystallis Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Cloud Strife/Vincent Valentine, Sephiroth & Cloud Strife Characters: Cloud Strife, Vincent Valentine, Hojo (Compilation of FFVII), Lucrecia Crescent, Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII), Jenova (Compilation of FFVII), Rufus Shinra, Tseng (Compilation of FFVII), Reno (Compilation of FFVII), Rude (Compilation of FFVII), Aerith Gainsborough, Zack Fair, Tifa Lockhart, Cid Highwind, Chaos (Compilation of FFVII) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Timelines, Falling In Love, Partnership, Smut, Yaoi, Diverging from canon, Alternate Timeline, Sci-Fi

Series: Part 1 of Crimson Crescent Series Summary:

[M/M Pairing] Written as an alternate story that runs parallel to beginning of OG FFVII, Vincent Valentine has been submerged and unconscious for thirty years in the Shin-Ra lab. When he awakes, physiologist Cloud Strife helps him return to good health. All are oblivious of the true reason that Vincent has mysteriously returned to Shin-Ra after all of this time. That secret remains between himself and Hojo, while the full truth rests with another. Despite the disparaging state he wakes up in, Vincent is increasingly drawn to Cloud and seeks to protect him, knowing the threats of working at Shin-Ra better than anyone else. Their roles at Shin-Ra complicate the nature of their romance - Hojo thinks Vincent has forgotten the events of Shin-Ra mansion, yet he reserves his own plans for the state of Hojo and Shin-Ra, with Cloud beginning to question his own place at Shin-Ra as well. This story assumes that the Nibelheim incident has not occurred yet, causing Vincent to meet Cloud in a different way, and their adventure to unfold under a different 'timeline.' It also seeks to answer questions like "What if Sephiroth hadn't turned as suddenly as he did in the OG?" Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

[softiedingo]

ao3 as always saving lives 🤌🏻

[once-and-future-fandoms]

i completely forgot that most people don't find new shows by scrolling tumblr and seeing someone being obsessed with a character/show/ship and going "yeah i'm going to invest hours into my this show so i can be obsessed with it too"

[ao3demographicssurvey2024]

In the AO3 Demographics Survey 2024 - an unofficial demographics survey of 16,131 AO3 users - the "Mature" rating was ranked most enjoyed by consumers, while those posting works most frequently posted "Teen and Up". Only 16% of those who had posted works to AO3 said they had never posted M/M, while 69% of consumers "Strongly Enjoyed" M/M works.

To see more analysis, including transcripts of all the data shown on the graphs, please view the full results on AO3 for both ratings and relationship types.

[creelarke]

"On AO3 there are about 6,400,000 fics as of now that are M/M and only about 1,200,000 fics for F/F. Fans should stop excluding female characters for the sake of male characters" Hold the fuck on???? People don't "exclude female characters for the sake of male characters". The ratio between M/M fics and F/F fics is literally because more people like M/M fics more than they do F/F and that's actually fine, it's not that deep. Because people can write whatever they like.

Yes, misogyny is a very real thing. But you're erasing the creditability of that word and are the ones doing harm to women if you scream misogyny every time you see something that slightly upsets you. Writers ONLY writing M/M doesn't automatically mean they're misogynists, without any other factors present that may or may not make them misogynists, the only fact that 'some writers ONLY write M/M' literally just means they like writing romance between two male characters and that's it.

This is fanfiction we're talking about, not a political debate or social justice protest. If the majority of people want to write about two male characters falling in love, then let them.

You don't get to shame a writer for "ONLY writing about M/M" because everybody has the rights to write whatever they like.

If you want more works for F/F, then write F/F yourself. No one's stopping you.

As a feminist myself, shaming writers for only writing M/M doesn't make you a feminist, it makes you an entitled dick.

(from this poll by @curiositysavesthecat nothing against the mods of the poll blog btw, they just run polls that were sent to them.)

[quordleona03]

4077 works at M*A*S*H 4077th!

[michoodles]

You saved me from a certain tragedy !

I get messages from the stars ⭐ when you're making love to me

Sorry I'm just got an obsession with movie sonadow bcs of Ao3

[ao3-anonymous]

Fastest Growing Fandoms on AO3 This Week (07/29/2024)

Every week I pull data on how many fics are in each fandom and compare to the previous week, then calculate the percentage increase to determine fastest growing fandoms.  Since this naturally skews towards smaller fandoms, I have included the same data filtered to Over 1k, 5k, & 10k fics.

Overall:

Over 1,000 Fics:

Over 5,000 Fics:

Over 10,000 Fics:

Source: AO3 Fandom Dashboard

[teencopandthesourwolf]

“Please.”

Stiles stands there, chewing on his pretty crimson lips, pleading.

Derek isn't fully clued in yet, but honestly, the kid is kind of vaguely breaking his heart.

“Please, Derek, I'm really sorry about this, but please just—just don't say anything, okay? And just—let me?”

Stiles had texted Derek earlier, at 3.17am, presumably just before he’d set off from his house to drive his jeep to the loft.

Derek had been lying awake in bed, unable to sleep.

His messages had read:

> dude, i rlly need to come over. that ok?

And:

> ill let myself in if thats cool?

And after a few moments, in quick succession one after the other and before Derek had a chance to respond:

> and i rlly need u to just like. not get out of bed. presuming yr already in bed

> all shall be revealed

> lol i don't know why i put that

> and obvs tell me if any of this is not ok. ok?

> as if you wouldn't lol

> #sourwolf

> and yeah i know im being a weirdo but thats why you like me

And then, a few seconds later:

> right?

Derek had stared at the flurry of messages for a minute or so, then texted back:

Okay, weirdo <

About ten minutes later, Stiles had let himself into the building. Derek listened to the kid muttering away to himself as he rode the old service elevator—except it wasn't really himself he was talking to.

“God, I hope I'm not wrong about this. Like, I think we're close enough now for it not to be weird. I mean, at least I hope we are. I'm just so fucking tired, man, and have got to get me some sleep. Anyways, just—don't get up, okay? Or, like, can you get into bed if you're not already in bed? Sorry, I know I texted you this already, I just really need you to trust me. You do know you can trust me… Right, big guy?”

Derek's trust of Stiles was implicit.

When the steel door had unlocked and slid open, Derek smelled fresh, mostly unscented shower gel over the base notes of Stiles's own cinnamon scent, mixed with the very definite chemo-signals that indicated fear, restlessness, apprehension—and also, the strongest of them all; hope.

Let me.

Here, now, Derek still doesn't know what the kid needs.

Let him what?

Derek doesn't have any more time to wonder, though, because Stiles is taking off his sneakers and pants and is slowly, very slowly—as if giving Derek the chance to protest—climbing into bed next to him.

Stiles is now in Derek's loft in the small hours, in Derek's bed, fully under Derek's covers, with Derek wearing only his grey tank and black boxer-briefs and a probably terrified look on his face.

He silently thanks the universe for the cover of night.

“Like, you should obviously say something if this is completely heinous or whatever, but otherwise just—let me do this?”

And all Derek can think is shit, he's freezing, at the same time he is going into a some sort of dumbstruck shock because Stiles is now wrapping his entire sinewy, beautiful body around the entirety of Derek's.

“This okay?” Stiles asks, the air around them spiking with the smell of his anxiety as he Big-Spoons Derek like some human-shaped octopus, skinny but strong limbs astonishingly everywhere.

And he sounds so unsure, and so small, and Derek can't bear it.

Not giving the stoic part of his brain any opportunity to talk him out of doing this, Derek takes ahold of Stiles's wrist from where the kid had draped one of his long arms around Derek's midriff, and hangs on as firmly but gently as he can, manoeuvring them both around in the bed so that Stiles is now the Little Spoon.

“This okay?” he asks gingerly, mirroring Stiles because his own words are failing him.

Stiles says, “Yeah. Even better,” and his anxiety is melting away into something much more pleasing; something like relief.

Derek breathes out the word, “Good,” and feels a little dizzy and a lot amazed, and kind of like his heart is beating wildly in his throat.

The only reason he knows it isn't, is because Stiles says, “I can feel your heart thumping away in your chest, man. But, uh, I don't have wolfy senses, so… I can't tell if it's good thumping or bad thumping.”

Then he promptly stops breathing.

Derek resists the desperate, learnt urge to run away from this. He mentally shakes himself and figures: After so many years fighting monsters together, maybe he and Stiles can fight this one together, too?

He gives himself a moment to ride out the panic, then screws his eyes shut and, praying to nobody in particular, whispers, “Good thumping,” into the shell of Stiles's ear.

Stiles shivers and breathes again, but doesn't say anything else. For once, he doesn't need to. He just needs to sleep.

As the kid settles into Derek's bed and Derek's embrace and, hopefully, Derek's life, he smells like a mix of serene and content and promise—and also, wonderfully, of Derek, now.

Derek is a strange combination of relaxed and freaking-the-fuck-out because that's just the way he's made. His brain won't stop whirring at a speed of a million miles an hour, worrying about everything and nothing, all at once, and before he can bite into his lip to stop himself, he blurts out, “Cora says I sometimes dream-talk about Cajun Gumbo recipes.”

Stiles's only sighs, then hums quietly, his breathing already evening out almost to the point of sleep.

Just when Derek thinks he's not going to get any sort of real answer, Stiles mumbles, “Okay, weirdo,” on an exhale, and then he's drifting off into unconsciousness.

Derek settles then, and smiles into the nighttime thinking that maybe, finally, he might get a good night's sleep, too.

.

for @shealynn88, the bestest of friends. i love you and miss you always... <3 (unedited btw—forgive me!)

[thyrus-hart]

Love Penalty (Crimson Crescent series update)

Love Penalty (2158 words) by TerraCrystallis Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Cloud Strife/Vincent Valentine Characters: Cloud Strife, Vincent Valentine, Tifa Lockhart, Denzel (Compilation of FFVII) Additional Tags: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, Past Relationship(s), Love, Romance, Flirting, Advent Children Era (Compilation of FFVII), Slice of Life, Family, Grief/Mourning, Found Family Series: Part 2 of Crimson Crescent Series Summary:

[M/M] Almost six years ago, (canon divergent) Cloud Strife of Shin-Ra's research department managed to wake Vincent from a thirty-year slumber after a tragic incident at the Shin-Ra Mansion nearly cost Vincent his life. Following the events of Advent Children, Cloud has planned a surprise for his ex-lover, despite the apparent distance that seems to have happened between them. They meet at Cloud's house, where the two find that perhaps something still lingers between them after all. Link Again

[rpgchoices]

Oh noooo this round sees Wyll vs Astarion! Both of these characters are romance options in Baldur's Gate 3, one a vampire, the other a monster hunter --- I think... they should kiss... (i do write a lot of wyllstarion fanfics on my ao3 *cough*).

Two of my absolute favorites and if you know them, you know they would vote for each others.

Proof can be found in this edit I made:

All round three voting polls are here!

[dyingroses]

Some M*A*S*H + AO3 tags

[number-one-van]

MOBIUS, PUT YO HANDS ON HIS SLUTTY LITTLE WAIST NOW 🗣️‼️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️🗣️

[arithmonym]

every time i see a post complaining about fanfic quality, i’m like “my guy, you are under no obligation to read fic in the first place. ao3 will not kill your dog if you decide you want to read a book instead.”

[hailsatanacab]

I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache. 

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were. 

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too? 

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence. 

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How? 

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman. 

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year. 

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating. 

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..." 

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he... 

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please." 

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now.  "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb. 

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."