There are many new friends on the archive, and many are young and have only known social media, which is why I wanted to say something!
Ao3 does not have an algorithm! It isn't a social media site, it's an archive.
Posting fics on Tumblr isn't the same as posting fics on Ao3
Ao3 is like a giant virtual bookshelf, and everyone is able to add their own stories to the bookshelf, all stored with different tags and different fandoms. Works are automatically sorted by newest to oldest, but filters, looking at bookmarks, and using the search function can change that.
Certain works are not pushed to the top like social media posts. More kudos and reads don't push a single work to more viewers by some algorithm. Unless otherwise filtered, works will be at the top of the page based on how recent it was posted.
Smaller fandoms get less views, less kudos, less bookmarks, and larger fandoms get more simply because of the number of people inside the fandom.
Ao3 is a giant virtual bookshelf- there is no algorithm, and there is no man behind the shelf pushing certain books forward.
Happy reading, and if you'd like to have more people notice a fic, why not share it with them! Send a dm to a fandom friend and it might turn into one of their favorite fics!
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YOU — “No. There is still a chance.”
DOLORES DEI — “You think so?” Her voice is weary.
EMPATHY — Everything about her is weary. She is the Innocence of weariness, of heroically borne suffering.
CONCEPTUALIZATION — That is the picture you have painted for yourself, at any rate.
YOU — “You looked back. That’s the memory, the moment, that I can’t stop returning to. You looked back. I had a chance, for just that moment…”
DOLORES DEI — She meets your eye, gaze still forever cast back over her shoulder. Time stops. The stars are stilled, the ocean silent. There is *nothing* beyond this memory. Nothing at all. All of infinity is contained in this single moment when anything and everything was possible.
“Oh, Harry…” She sighs, soft as eiderdown. “We never had any chance.”
And just like that, the wave of time collapses under its own weight, obliterating everything. This moment was six years ago. She is gone from here. Gone, gone…
PAIN THRESHOLD — You cannot leave. There was nothing outside of this moment, and now there is nothing at all. It’s all gone. There is no point. I’m sorry. I can’t do this any longer.
VOLITION — Please, don’t say that…
“Okay. Well, fuck me, then.”
“How would *you* know?! You gave up! You didn’t even try!”
“We *must* have had a chance, at some point… Doesn’t everyone get a chance, if nothing more?”
“How could you say that…?”
DOLORES DEI — “Because it’s true,” she says, matter-of-fact. “There is no moment in time that you can turn back to, no branching paths, no infinity. There is only what happened. I looked back… and then away.” She closes her eyes, turning her back to you.
“The moment ended. *We* ended. That is all.”
SHIVERS — A wave crashes against an unseen shore, ocean spray tickling the back of your neck. You shiver, but no one shivers with you. You are alone in this intersection. Why are you here?
“Why can’t *I* end?! Why can’t this all just stop? Please, make it stop…”
“Ended? I’ve barely even started! I got a chance to start completely over as somebody new! I don’t need you anymore! You’re just dead weight to me now.”
“No. That wasn’t the real ending. We’re a part of something so much bigger than this intersection, telling a story that encapsulates all of history! There’s *more* to this, it *means* something.”
“Then… What am I supposed to do now…?”
DOLORES DEI — “No, Harry.” She turns back to you again now, and she looks… sad.
“We were not metaphors. We were people. Our narrative was not intelligently designed. It simply followed the patterns of history, because those are the only patterns we *know.* We tried to create something new, but we failed. There is no narrative reward for our failure, no satisfactory ending. There is only the immutable past and the unknowable future.”
RHETORIC — There is no assurance of what is good or deserved or what may bring relief. There is no assurance of punishment, either. There is no assurance of anything. Not even of a future. I don’t know what to say to make this bearable.
VOLITION — Even so… As long as you live, *something* is promised. Can you live with that?
I can’t, I just can’t do this anymore…
I can. It’s enough.
I don’t know. I just don’t know.
I can at least try for a little longer…
VOLITION — That’s all I ask. That’s enough.
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AU where Josh manages to grab onto Nigel’s hand at the last moment that night on the train and both of them fall out. AU where Nigel has been dead the entire time but Alex Forbes doesn’t know that; where the trauma of watching his friend fall to his death combined with the realisation he was complicit in the death of another causes his mind to fracture.
He doesn’t remember making it back to his dorm room that night, only remembers waking up to the news that Josh and Nigel were was dead. All of Nigel’s things have been moved to another room, of course they have, because Nigel was gone, dead, all his fault, his fault trouble.
AU where Alex takes the train one night to the Colbie house because Nigel asks him to, because he feels this innate and intense need to try and better understand this boy he got killed; where he finds the card and the books and Nigel’s red bible, and begins to understand.
AU where the body of Susan turns up one morning, and the police question Alex about it, but there’s no way it was him, because he was late; he was late, and by the time he showed up at the cinema, she was waiting for him still, sweet Susan, with her kind eyes and kinder heart, she had waited for him and she didn’t even suspect anything until the very second before he struck gone.
AU where Alex finds the letter he wrote Nigel wrote, inviting him to his house that night, where Alex sees the Colbies arguing through the window; where he wrestles the gun from John and shoots him to kill him because he read the journals, knows that this man has been hurting Nigel his whole life and he wanted him dead protect Nigel.
AU where Nigel confronts Alex at the train yard that night, where he forces Alex to remember everything he did, everything Alex did; where he forces Alex to pull the trigger and kill off the version of Nigel he’s been carrying around in his mind, where Alex dies that night right along with him and Jack is born instead.
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Ok. First of all, I am obsessed with Lionheart. You are amazing and I could sing your praises for hours. However, I have a question regarding Wolfstar. Your fic was actually the first time I came across that ship. (I know now it's really popular). However, I would love to hear more about your thoughts on Remus and Sirius. Whether it's canon or your interpretation of them. I always found Tonks and Remus to be a strange couple in the HP books. Was that your impression as well? How do you think a romantic relationship between the two characters changes them, if it does at all? Thanks!
Totally! Thanks for the ask!
I think Remus and Tonks getting together suffers from the same thing that a lot of canon relationships do, i.e., that JKR doesn't really know how to write romantic chemistry. There are very few times in the books where it feels like there's genuine sexual or romantic tension happening on the page. So that's layer 1.
Layer two is that Remus and Tonks aren't themselves on the page for most of Books 5-7, so their "love story," as such, is 90% exposition. The only scenes we get of them as a couple are Tonks scolding Remus for not dating her and Remus guiltily shooting her down. It also seems out of character for Remus, who is defined in many ways by his attachment to the past and who has been living out of Sirius's pockets for two years, to show little or no apparent grief at the death of his best friend of twenty years, not to mention one of the last people alive who loved James Potter. Harry grieves Sirius more than Lupin seems to, and Harry knew Sirius for about five minutes compared to Lupin. That's not to say that grief always looks the same — it's different, and I'm sure Lupin compartmentalized it for the war effort — but it should, in theory, stop you from jumping into a high-intensity relationship with your dead best friend's niece. (If you look at the timeline on Tonks and Lupin's relationship vis-a-vis Sirius's death, it is absolutely wild.)
The Wolfstar in Lionheart is subtle, but as overt as I thought was realistic for two men who hadn't seen each other in years and are also, by necessity, only seen by the reader in the presence of their thirteen-year-old godson. I wanted to capture the energy of "closeted on-again off-again lovers in the 70s and 80s before having a VERY messy breakup" (which, believe it or not, is a broader demographic than you'd think), both because I think it's a fun way to write them (the vibes! the possessiveness! the old-married-couple meets shy-first-relationship of it all!) and because it explains why Lupin is totally alone before Prisoner of Azkaban — in particular, why he never made an effort to contact Harry. It's hard enough to be a closeted man in Britain in the 1980s; throw in a case of lycanthropy and an insane amount of personal trauma, and what you've got on your hands is the kind of guy who'd go totally radio silent on everyone he knows for 13 straight years.
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