#it's against the Terms of Service and not what AO3 is for

[khunspikesficrecs]

Could you help me find a vegaspete fic, please?

I'm looking for a fic where I think Pete is autistic and Vegas needs to be away for a while. Macau and Pete stays together at home and I believe that there's a moment when Macau offers Pete a popsicle, but he doesn't accept because it's not the flavor/color he likes. Also, Pete is struggling and Macau gets worried and calls Vegas. Vegas tells Macau what to do to make Pete feel confortable until he can come home.

Please help!

#vegaspete #kinnporsche #fic #vegaspetefic #fanfiction

I'm always happy to help, but hmmmm. This isn't one I'm familiar with. Most of the VegasPete I've seen that has one of them be Autistic focuses on Vegas it seems like. Anyone have an idea about what fic this is?

[bayofalgecirascranes]

I get not wanting your work reposted to other sites, especially without credit, and I get this extending onto deleted works too, I really do.

but if you really don’t want people who genuinely love what you’ve written to repost a deleted work of yours onto ao3 (with credit, in the insurance I’m vagueposing about) then it’s really better to orphan the original work instead of deleting it altogether.

and yeah, I understand why people delete works off of ao3, I’ve deleted works myself. If I found out someone else uploaded those works without asking I would have extremely mixed feelings on the matter. But I also understand why someone who really loves a certain story, so much so that they downloaded it, would be saddened to see it gone. Would want other people to see that story they loved so much. Would go against the wishes of the original creator to ensure this happens.

is doing this a good thing, even if you credit the author? No, it’s going against the creator’s wishes and going behind their back, they wanted that story to stop existing on the internet for a reason. But it’s understandable.

all this to say, if you’re ever considering deleting a work entirely off of AO3, consider orphaning it first.

[end-otw-racism]

End OTW Racism: A Call To Action

A fan protest against the lack of action from the OTW on addressing issues of harassment and racism on AO3 and within the organization

This is a Call To Action for Fans of Color and Allies

AO3 has acknowledged that they have a harassment & racism problem that its parent organization, the Organization for Transformative Works (OTW), needs to address. Currently, people can use AO3 to harass others through fanworks, comments, and tags. Just a few examples include: racist Untamed “spitefic” that used anti-Indigenous slurs and was written specifically to lash out at fans of color; a Transformer fic that used its Black-coded character to reenact George Floyd’s murder in July 2020; someone naming a fandom scholar who criticized their Nazi omegaverse fic in the tags of the fic specifically to incite harassment to the scholar; writers using racial slurs against commenters who pointed out racism in their hockey fic; and so much more.

In June 2020, after the murder of George Floyd, the OTW committed to addressing these issues. It has been nearly three years and they have not yet implemented any of the changes they promised, other than a blocking/muting tool that was already in development before 2020. We need to hold the OTW accountable to their own promises. (See the section further down on “Why Are We Doing This” for even more detail.)

As fans, together, we are powerful. We are organizing to protest the lack of action on promises made by the Organization for Transformative works to deal with issues of racism and harassment on their platform, Archive of Our Own.

We call on fans to do any or all of the following actions any time between May 17 to 31, 2023 to send a message to AO3 and OTW that we will hold them to their promises.

On AO3

Change the title of ten (or more!) of your most recent or most popular fanworks to include ‘End Racism in the OTW’ in the beginning, and provide a link to this post in your summary or first/top creator’s note

Post a new fanwork any time between May 17th to 31st with “End Racism in the OTW” either as the title or at the beginning of the title. The fanwork does not have to be long - it can be a 100-word fic, a quick sketch, a podfic of a ficlet, a 20-second vid/edit, a short piece of meta, etc. In the summary or first/top creator’s note, provide a link to this post

If updating any WIPs with a new chapter, add ‘End Racism in the OTW’ to the title and provide a link back to this post in your summary or first/top author’s note

Update your AO3 icon using the profile pic graphic in our Social Media Toolkit

Plan to maintain these changes until May 31, 2023, or longer if you wish

Send a message to the OTW asking for an update on their 2020 commitments!

For Readers: leave encouraging comments on fanworks with the "End Racism in the OTW" title to show your support of this initiative.

On tumblr

Reblog this Call to Action with the tag #End OTW Racism

Update your profile pics and banners using the graphics in our Social Media Toolkit

Follow this account for updates and signal boost our posts

On Twitter

Follow @/EndOTWRacism (remove the backslash) and signal boost our pinned tweet

Update your profile pics and banners using our graphics, and change your display name to include #EndOTWRacism

Use sample tweets and graphics from our Social Media Toolkit to tweet about your fanworks, and use the hashtag #EndOTWRacism

Help us make this a long-term campaign - sign up to help with other anti-racism projects and future actions!

What Do We Want?

Since their June 2020 statement, OTW has been working on updating their Terms of Service (TOS) to address racist and bigoted harassment, but with little transparency and only the vaguest of updates. It has been three years since their commitment to this update - we want to see the results of their work implemented in the next 6-12 months. Their TOS updates and complementary policies should include:

Harassment policies that can be regularly updated to address both on-site harassment and off-site coordinated harassment of AO3 users, with updated protocols for the Policy & Abuse Team to ensure consistent and informed resolutions of abuse claims

A content policy on abusive (extremely racist and extremely bigoted) content; by abusive, we are talking about fanworks that are intentionally used to spread hate and harassment, not those that accidentally invoke racist or other bigoted stereotypes

These points are not particularly new and are not our own innovation; please refer to Stitch's article written over two years ago, asking for several of these very things.

OTW has also already committed to various process-based actions for longer-term works towards centering antiracism, including hiring a Diversity Consultant. The last update that OTW published said that the consultant would be hired within the next five years (after already having had three years to work on it since their original commitment). That is not soon enough. We want to see the following process-based actions implemented:

Hiring a Diversity Consultant within the next 3-6 months

Committing to a policy of transparency on this topic, with quarterly updates on the progress of these projects including challenges and their plan for overcoming those challenges. These quarterly updates should be published on OTW News page and newsletters, not solely discussed in Board meetings

Why Are We Doing This?

16 years ago, Astolat famously published her manifesto calling for a fandom Archive of One’s Own. In that time, AO3 has grown to be a central pillar of fandom, likely far outstripping its founders’ original vision. It is more than just an archive now; it is a central hub of the modern fannish experience. AO3 and the OTW must continue to grow and evolve with fandom over time to remain a healthy and functioning pillar of fandom. To that end, there are several areas in which the organization, as it admits itself, is lacking.

In June 2020, in the wake of the George Floyd protests and the uprising of the Black Lives Matter Movement, The OTW published a “This Week in Fandom” referencing the works of Dr. Rukmini Pande and Stitch, among others in which they discussed ‘making change for a better society’ through ‘conversations about race and racism’. In response, Dr. Pande and Stitch submitted a letter to the OTW calling for a more formal public statement than an offhand reference in a News Roundup that only served to call for thoughts and discussion without any indication the organization intended to do anything, policy wise, to address the issues being raised.

Eventually, the organization did remove the references to the works of Dr. Pande and Stitch and then made an official statement on the issue of racism within the organization and AO3. In it, they identified several things they would be prioritizing to combat harassment and benefit users. Some of those have been implemented (notably those that were already under development). However as of this writing, little else has been done especially in regards to:

Improving admin tools for the Policy & Abuse team

Reassessing the current mandatory archive warnings with the possibility of implementing others

And, most importantly, reviewing the Terms of Service (TOS) to allow the Policy & Abuse team to address harassment that is currently not covered by the existing TOS

By their own admission, the current tools and policies of the OTW are not sufficient to deal with issues of harassment and racism.

Several people who were involved in the founding of the OTW, including previous OTW Board members and staff on the original OTW Content Policy Committee, acknowledge that the founding of the OTW in 2008 and early board iterations failed us as a fandom by not doing enough, and by not even considering the way racism is perpetuated in fannish spaces, despite a long history of racism in fandom.

It has been nearly three years since the original commitment by the organization with little visible, measurable progress on these three crucial issues and a complete lack of transparency on where they are in regards to even beginning to deal with these issues. In fact, in Q&As, it was heavily implied by a member of the board that those calling for OTW to deal with issues of racism (which OTW had already acknowledged as a problem!) were not really fans but outside agitators.

This has cast significant doubt on the organization's sincerity and commitment to their stated goals, and on their position as leaders of a central fan tent-pole. Fans of color are not outsiders. They are right here, members of our community, and they are being harassed and targeted and driven out while space and platforms are being given to racists.

We, as fans of color and our allies, find the current state of fandom and current actions (and lack thereof) unacceptable. Fandom is our space, all of ours. We, as a fandom, have a right to a racism-free space and have a duty to our fellow fans to create that space. Unlike so much of the world, this is a space we can control and make better. It is a space we must make better. To read even more about this movement, visit our FAQs.

[grandisknight]

at your service | rafayel

summary: Gaining the upper hand in Kitty Cards has its benefits, which solely consist of making the loser (Rafayel) comply to the winner’s choice.

tags: nsfw (mdni), established relationship, kitty cards (derogatory), teasing, gn!reader (no specific descriptors), 'miss bodyguard' name mention, thomas mention, maid!rafayel, sub!rafayel, costumes, roleplay, maids, photography, kissing, praise kink, ‘master’ kink, brief mouth fucking, finger sucking, handjobs, m!orgasm, ejaculate, implied/suggestive ending

wc: 3.0k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist

a/n: don't ask me what happened but just know i will die on the hill that is maid!rafayel

You couldn’t believe your luck. 

And Rafayel couldn’t understand his lack of it. 

The Evol kittens were no better in-between the two of you—some were happily purring or fast asleep, comfortable in their colored teacups. More importantly, unbothered and unaware of the two players on opposite spectrums in their aftermath.

Out of the nine creatures, an overwhelming majority belonged to you. After a long, arduous dual and third round sweep, you had overshadowed Rafayel with a score of thirty-two points to his measly eight sum. He held a quarter to your victory.

“This game sucks,” Rafayel sulks. His frown mirrors one of the red Evol kittens closest to him, rounded tears blobbing down its cheeks. Both defeated, worse for wear at the outcome.

You let out a small laugh. “You say that, and yet you still play with me every week.” 

You poke the cheek of a cheery green Evol kitten, who nudges against your touch in turn and meows. “Isn’t that right, little fella?” It delightfully purrs back at you, the accordance only rubbing more salt into Rafayel’s poor wound.

“Hmph.” He doesn’t fight you there, chin resting in the palm of his hand and averting your teasing gaze.

You collect your hand and his, returning all cards to the discard pile with a satisfied hum. No sooner did a café worker come by to clear your table, leaving the two of you to your devices.

“And you know what that means, don’t you?” You lean forward, reaching to his sulking demeanor. Catching the sleeve of his blouse, you lightly pinch the silk between your fingers, putting on your own petulant expression. “Unless you forgot so soon.”

As long as he breathed and lived, it was actually Rafayel who would constantly have to remind you of things said and done in the past. Less of the forgetful one between you, he takes pride in his memory retention.

Even so, he couldn’t stay upset with you for so long. His shoulders relax at the sound, back straightening and taking your hand into his. A scoff of, “Puh-lease, of course I remember,” answers your questions.

“Loser does what the winner wants,” he tacks on in confidence. 

It was the terms agreed upon when stepping into Meow Meow Café earlier that day—he didn’t think much of it at the time, confident he would win today’s rounds. 

But, that wasn’t the case. Right. You won the first, he the second, and as for the third…

Rafayel pauses then, dual-chromed eyes now narrowing in suspicion. “Wait a minute. I’m the loser.”

You nod, a grin plastered to your face. “Today you are, yeah.”

“And you’re the winner,” he follows up. 

(If you look close enough, you could make out swirls of equations and calculations floating around his head.)

“Two for two, you’re absolutely correct.” With a gentle tug and rise from your seat, you string along a bewildered artist in tow. 

It came altogether then. A sense of dread at your unrevealed schemes quickly fills his tone, face already draining of its color. “Oh no,” Rafayel groans.

“Oh yes,” you chirp. “I have a wish that needs to be granted, and you’re going to help me out!”

—

“Are you sure you don’t need my help?” 

You stood outside the bathroom door, which was currently (and firmly) locked from within. Not that you were going to barge in unannounced, but surely it warranted some concern when Rafayel hadn’t stepped a single foot out since entering. Only the rustles of clothing and hushed utterances echoed the acoustics of tiled walls; you couldn’t really make out any of the finer details otherwise.

And it’s been ten minutes.

You clear your throat, wondering if he missed the first time you called out. “Ra—fa—yel—“

The door swings open then, the man of the hour greeting you with, “Yeah, yeah. I hear you.”

It took a second to register his reappearance, and your mouth fell slack taking him in. “Woah,” you breathe out in awe.

No longer in his casual blouse and accompanying slacks, the artist stood before you in a newly picked attire. 

White knee-high socks stuck to his calves, with the edge of their supporting garters partially hidden and neatly wrapped all the same. A frilled apron of ivory linen rested neatly above his kneecaps, blanketing the black satin of a dress in an equally-met length underneath. Sleeves puffed around his shoulders, and a pointed collar was tastefully unbuttoned in fashion—undoubtedly of his own doing, revealing the flush of his chest and collarbone that homed one of his many beauty marks.

To which, he instinctively covers up with a defensive cross of arms and ears tipped in a bright red. Embarrassment follows his rather meek stance. “So like, that’s all, right? Can I take this off now?”

You take a step closer, hands clasped behind your back in observation and hum. It was well-fitted to his body, hugged neatly in all the places where it mattered. Thomas came in clutch when you asked him the other day, catching him at Flux Arts during one of the slower viewing hours. 

“His measurements?” The agent pondered your request. A couple swipes to his tab later, he adds on with a smile, “Sure thing. If it’s for Rafayel’s sake, then I’ll send them over.”

A little secret kept between the two of you, unbeknownst to the wearer. It was probably for the best, you wouldn’t hear the end of his moping otherwise.

Rafayel whines under your scrutinizing gaze that was lost in thought. “Hey—“

“Not yet,” you say with a shake of your head. “Indulge me for a while more. You took forever in there all by yourself, anyhow.”

You reveal a matching headdress between your once hidden fingers, a row of pleated ribbon swiftly placed amongst his wavy locks. The final piece of the puzzle, a maid in all his glory and in the comforts of your humble abode. A sense of glittering pride holds your gaze to his.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he points out.

Your shoulders raise in a slight shrug. “Of course I am, it’s the winner’s right.” A hand trails down to the curve of his jaw, holding the face that continues to pout. With a light snicker and compliment in attendance, you tell him, “You look very cute, by the way.”

Rafayel’s pout twitches for a second, slyly revealing his enjoyment to the compliment. He clears his throat, saying, “Yeaaah right. Take a picture, I’m sure it’ll last longer.”

Oh, but he spoke too soon. His eyes widen when you actually take out your phone, much to his better judgment. “Hold on, you’re not planning on really keeping a memo, are you?”

“It would be a shame if I didn’t,” you counter. He said so himself—might as well take his word for it.

Swiping to the camera app,  you position the lens inches away and see his furrowed brows through the viewfinder. You gently tug him forward, fingers fully curled underneath his chin. On the other hand, he purposefully sways back and forth in an effort to blur your captures.

You tsk. “The more you squirm, the longer I’ll have to keep trying to take a shot.”

“What, you don’t like my blurry faces too? They’re all handsome,” he huffs. Though a squish to his cheeks cuts him short, stilling him long enough for a ring of shutters to seal the deal.

“Alright, alright,” you coo to console his woes. “I think I managed to get a good one.” 

You lower the phone in observation, scrolling through the new gallery additions. The flurry of dark lavender and hazy skin aside, a few select shots captured the paused moment of time where he did behave. 

Device neatly tucked away into your back pocket, your attention turns back to the subject of your newest wallpaper. Even if this was a reward for you, he deserved just as much in compensation. 

A soft kiss to Rafayel’s jutted lip melts some of his tension, brows no longer scrunched together. You smile at his relaxing shoulders and opening arms when you give another. 

You shower him in adoration, butterflied smooches and his closing eyes soon pressing against the closest wall. Your hands run over the frills of his skirt, smooth to the touch and gently laid out atop his thighs. The barrier of fabric did nothing to hide the amount of warmth emanating through, the effect of your touches having a clear reaction on him. 

You wondered if there was more to be seen—only one way to find out.

Shifting, you drag your lips away from his and to the sweet spot where his jaw and earlobe meet. You ask in a low voice, “So, what do you think?” His blush steadily follows into the very space, worsening when you blow gently over the affected skin. “Dressing up like this for me.”

“My thoughts?” 

Whether it was in disbelief or furthered embarrassment—perhaps a fine condition of both—Rafayel could only exhale. You could feel his legs pressing together in unspoken confirmation, and a bashful turn of his head carries his murmur of, “What do you think I’m thinking about when you touch me like that?”

“Well,” you trail off. “I’d rather show and not tell.”

In a blink, your fingers bunch up the skirt fabric into messied pleats that reveal the answers you sought after. And it truly was a lovely sight to see—you let out a low whistle, impressed at the state he’s in. Through the sheer lace of white trim, a curved tip as red as his ears was weeping quietly, soiling the undergarment dutifully.

“Don’t look,” he whines, attempting to cover up his hardened arousal with the satin.

“Would you prefer if I touched instead?” You tease, catching his wrist in apt timing. You guide his hand over where his body couldn’t lie, and he noticeably twitches. “Oh? Maybe you prefer touching yourself.”

“I can’t do that,” Rafayel weakly counters. It breaks into a low moan when you slowly inch him closer to the beads of precum pulsing past his slit. He hisses when your thumb slips against it, purposefully smearing his come against the lace. “You’re so, so mean, Miss Bodygu—“

“Ah, not so fast.” You tut, drawing back and a string of his arousal follows. He gasps at the unexpected loss, protests shaping his lips before you continue your turn. “That’s not my proper title.”

Confusion tints the hues of red and blue that, already, were far dipped into the seas of lust. “I call you that all the time though.” 

In hindsight, you are his Miss Bodyguard. Have been, for months on end, and with generous bank statements stamped with his name as a source of proof. One who graciously accompanies him when your schedules allow it, to even sightseeing trips for both business and pleasure.

He pauses, then notably gawks with the cogs of realization spinning. “You… Don’t tell me, you want me to call you that?”

It wouldn’t be the first time this particular name has come up in conversation, but the circumstances were vastly different. You bring your soiled thumb to his lips, swiping it across and allowing it to settle into a thin layer of gloss. 

“You can’t be serious,” he says.

“Sorry, are you talking to me right now? I only listen to those with manners.” His eyes only grow in size, yet you feign indifference to it. Of course you would hear him out—though only with the proper name.

Ignorance was never bliss, but rather a crude form of torture for Rafayel. “M… m…” The word laid on the tip of his tongue in a hesitant sound, before a quick mumble follows.

“I can’t hear you.” Your fingers curl themselves once more in a grip over his chin, directing his gaze to go nowhere else but to you. And your eyes were steadfast, committing his flustered face to memory.

“Speak up,” you encourage.

The air above sea had never felt so suffocating yet enticing all at once. Rafayel couldn’t help but enjoy the heat, and the root cause of it, to which he says in a low groan, “Master.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Your faceted praise comes with a tilt of his head and a kiss to reward his newfound diligence. He sighs into your warmth that welcomes him, though it shifts to a whine when you pull away too soon.

Rafayel nudges your nose with his, a pity show pooling in his eyes. “More, Master.”

“More of what, exactly?” You contemplate, before a decisive, downwards push of his lacey underwear has him sighing. 

His length stood proud against his abdomen, way past a softened state, firm and twitching to the exposed air. You draw a fine line from base to sensitive head, gauging his reaction. The other hand toys with the closest garter on his thigh, fingers dipping past the fine leather. “My sweet Rafayel,” you purr. “What should I do with you?”

“Want you to touch me,” he strains, an edge of impatience to confession. His lips move to mouth at your collarbone, no longer hiding his neediness and taking it in stride. It was rare for you to see this side of him, so vulnerable yet entirely reserved for you—a face he wouldn’t dare show anyone else.

Rafayel spoke with heat in his voice and hazy stars in his eyes. “Master, please. I swear I’ll do anything you want.”

“Anything,” you muse, squeezing his thigh thoughtfully. “And all you want me to do is touch you.”  You can’t help but chuckle when his enthusiastic nod only adds to your point. 

You could see his illusory fox ears flatten in disappointment when you pull away, against his wishes. He lets out a small yelp when your fingers release the garter and smack against his skin.

“Master, I—“

“Open,” you instruct, fingers searching his lips once more. 

And Rafayel does, choking a moan when you place them against his tongue. Carefully, you stroke his warm cavern, to which his mouth closes around and sucks with zeal. He swirls his tongue against the pads of your fingers, determined to please you.

His canines briefly graze your skin when you depart with a faint string. Now finely coated in a layer of his saliva, you dip your hand downwards—curling the sticky fingers around his nearly-neglected cock. Rafayel cants his hips immediately, supporting the salaciously wet noises that echo in tune. 

You squeeze his length in warning, pressing the other hand to his abdomen. “Stay still,” you scold, feeling him contract beneath your pressure. “If you can’t follow a simple order, I’ll leave you high and dry.”

“No, no, no,” he whimpers, shaking his head adamantly. His hands grip the skirt, desperate and knuckles almost turning white from their strength. Something to keep him grounded, to make sure he listens well to his beloved—“Master, I won’t move, promise.”

You purse your lips. “We’ll see about that.” 

Up and down, you tenderly attend to his arousal in generous strokes. Steady rubs and an occasional swipe to his sensitive head last for what feels like an eternity to Rafayel. He was so well-behaved when his orgasm was threatened, all in the palm of your hand.

“You’re close,” you observe with a particularly firm flick, “Aren’t you?”

“Mhm, ‘m very close,” Rafayel quickly admits, his breaths ardent and changing in pitch. He looked so beautiful like this, prettily wrapped around your fingers and a sweet song of your name resonates from his throat. 

Abandoning the languid strokes, you angle your elbow to reach him sooner—faster. “A good, honest boy,” you coo. His blush only deepens at the sound, and his keens grow in volume. You’d apologize to the neighbors later. 

“Should I let you come?” You ask knowingly.

“Master, Ma—ah—ster,” he cries out. “Can feel it, I’m about to—“ A tear rolls down his cheek, matching the one threatening to bead past his slit. “Please, please.” Overwhelmed and in a desperate need for relief, Rafayel’s expression stirred a flame within you.

“Let it out,” you coax, pace unrelenting and threatening to cramp your fingers. The finish line was only a step away, and you say with a smile, “Do it for me. Come undone, my little maid.”

Blissful orgasm wrecks his body, accompanying his labored whines and pearls of white leaving his spent cock. Both the fabric of his outfit and your hand became victims to the viscous liquid, with the air equally met with nothing but the scent of it. 

Rafayel was boneless by the time he was nothing but dribbles of cum and a wrinkled skirt, slouching against the wall.

Your dry hand finds its way to his face, kindly stroking his cheek and adding a kiss to his relaxed brow. “You did so well, Raf.”

“Course I did,” he manages to jest in a hoarse voice. He eyes the state of his clothes and your dirtied hand, to which he nods towards. “Give me your hand.”

“What?” You look down, before raising it between your faces. It glistens, brought to the light and sinking into the creases of your skin. “Why—Ah.” 

Obediently, Rafayel takes your fingers dripping in release to his mouth. He licks in strides at the leftovers as if it were a swirl of ice cream on a hot, summer day.

“Cleaning up the mess you made,” you muse, though make no movement to stop him. “What a dutiful maid I have.” 

He nips your now unsullied fingertips at the comment. His hold on your wrist brings you closer—you stumble unexpectedly, letting go of his face to steady a hand to his chest.

“Raf—“ Your voice stutters when you feel his knee rub between your legs. Purposeful and angled, the pressure stokes the forsaken flames in your abdomen. “Rafayel,” you breathe, attempting to collect your bearings. 

“I hope you know I won’t easily forget all the things you’ve done,” Rafayel murmurs, eyes glimmering in mischief. “I won’t let you off easy, Master.”

[sy-on-boy]

My fic (and others) have been voiced by AI / Text to Speech, posted on Youtube, and monetised via Patreon without permission

I have been contacted by another author who has kindly contacted the other affected authors. The infringing video is here. Here is the infringing channel and the Patreon. Stolen artwork is also used in thumbnails and videos (I recognise @meomoicecr 's work in the above video). My work (Your Hand in Mine) that is hosted on Archive On Our Own is free and it will always be free (because Ao3 does not allow monetisation and because of personal values).

From what I gathered, making a copyright claim report requires my personal information (eg. full legal name) which I am unwilling to give at the moment, so unfortunately I've just been reporting for spam / fraud, and hopefully with enough strikes it'll get taken down. I've checked the Ao3 Reddit and I know this is not the first instance of fanfiction being posted on YouTube with machine voiceover without permission.

There has been a worrying and disheartening trend of fanwork being monetised against the author's wishes, for example Dramione fics being used in illegal fic bindings and then sold. I recognise this is common sense and I'm probably preaching to the choir, but please do not "purchase" fanfiction or otherwise give money when the "source" is dodgy and unaffiliated with the fanfic authors. As stated on Ao3's Terms of Service, "Promotion of commercial products or activities is not allowed." and "In general, unsolicited commercial activity is not permitted on the Archive".

Apologies if I've gotten any information wrong as my mind is quite frazzled at the moment. But TLDR: my work and other's work have been stolen, I want to take it down.

[the-californicationist]

The Window (5 of 7)

Ch 01 // Ch 02 // Ch 03 // Ch 04 // Ch 05 // Ch 06--- AO3 Link

You couldn’t see anything. You knew you were in the backseat, but you didn’t even know what kind of car you were in. They’d stolen you from your bed. As the road rushed by you, jostling you around, you had no idea where you were headed. The two men on either side of you hadn’t said a word, but when you tried to peek, they reinforced your blindfold, keeping you in the dark. 

“Alright, bonnie,” Soap’s voice was in your left ear, “Ready for your surprise?”

You turned to him, hoping he could see the glare through the cloth, 

“Are we there yet? ‘Cause blindfolding a pregnant woman in a car while she has morning sickness is like a new level of cruelty.”

“Sorry, love,” Gaz took your hand and you felt his lips on your fingers, “Almost there.”

Price was in the driver’s seat, and you felt him pull the car to a long, braking stop.

Gaz took your hand, helping you out of the car, walking you up past the hood, one foot in front of the other. 

“Can I look?”

“Alright, pretty girl. You can look,” John’s voice washed over you, and you took off your mask. 

You were facing a modern-style home. It was the only house around, surrounded by trees, illuminated by bright sunshafts glittering through the leaves of the canopy. 

“Bought it for you, love. Wha’d’ya think?” Simon’s comment barely registered. 

When John had told you things would be different, he hadn’t really been clear. He’d promised to do everything he could to take care of you and the baby, and that he would somehow prove it to you. You had no idea that promise would include a whole damn house.

“Your name’s on the deed, and it’s paid in full. But,” John shifted his weight, treading lightly, “We were hopin’ you’d let us move in with you. We just… we don’t wanna miss a moment, love.”

“What?” Your voice sounded so small, “You… you bought me a house?”

“Aye, with a wee pool and everything! Come see it, bonnie,” Soap grabbed your hand and rushed you in. 

The house was unfurnished except for the appliances, but there were boxes in every room. You opened one to find a bedframe, and one in the kitchen had pots and pans. Had they bought everything new? How did they get the money?

“John,” you found him as Soap was taking you around for the tour, “How did you afford this?”

He smiled, 

“Four single men, all with over ten years of service… let’s just say we had some savings.”

“I can’t afford to pay you back,” you admitted. 

“Don’t need you to. It’s yours. I told you, love,” he pet your cheek, kissing you chastely once, twice, until you relaxed into his touch, “We’re here to stay, but it’ll be on your terms.”

“I don’t know what to say,” you were in shock as you stood in the big, empty living room, gaping up at the high ceilings and black, wooden beams. It was a gorgeous home, and you were speechless. 

“Do you like it, love?” Simon put his arms around your waist and held you, looking down into your face for your appraisal.

You nodded,

“I do. It’s perfect. Thank you for everything. I wasn’t —”

He bent down to kiss you, interrupting you, and he was anything but gentle. Something about seeing you in his home had Simon all worked up, and you were being subjected to its effects. 

His hands lifted you onto the kitchen island with incredible ease, and you spread your legs to accommodate his huge frame as he settled himself against your hips. He wouldn’t stop kissing you, forcing his tongue into your mouth, sucking on your lips, and fondling your tender breasts through your thin tee shirt. 

“You two are gonna start a fire you can’t put out,” Gaz chastised Ghost, sidling up to you and kissing your neck. 

“Join in or fuck off, mate,” Simon’s voice was like a growl, snarling at his sergeant before returning his mouth to your body, sucking on your soft nipple through the fabric of your tee, making the cloth cling to you as he licked and nipped at your peak.

“Easy, Si. We’re gonna unload the bags, and we’ll be back. Get her all warmed up for us,” Gaz’s sinister chuckle hung in the air as he left you at his lieutenant’s mercy, of which there seemed to be very little. 

Ghost was usually so careful with you, but today, in the echoing expanse of the kitchen he’d bought for you, he was messy and needy. You could feel his cock straining against his pants as he rubbed it against you. Wearing nothing more than a pair of bike shorts and a tee shirt, you were able to feel every touch, every warm inch of his dick through your thin clothing, and his repeated thrusting told you exactly how hard he was.

He whined as he kissed you, teasing his head against your covered hole, but sensing where the warm entrance was, prodding it as if he might break through. You comforted him, placing your hand on his cheek as he kissed you. It seemed to bring him back to earth, if just for a moment. 

“You alright, Si?” You asked in a low whisper, watching over Ghost’s enormous shoulder as the other three men brought in bag after bag of supplies and belongings, preparing to move in. They kept stealing hungry glances over at you and your tall blond lover, not jealous per se but feeling ready to be included. 

Simon nodded,

“Yeah, love. ‘M fine.” 

He pulled back a bit to look down at your body. He lifted your tee shirt to stare at your belly. You weren’t showing yet, but he didn’t care. He placed an enormous, tattooed hand over your womb protectively, whispering,

“Can’t believe you’re havin’ my baby. Doesn’t seem real yet.”

“How do you know they’re yours?” You asked him gently, putting your hand over his and tracing comforting circles across his skin.

“Don’t know,” he kissed you again, “Don’t care.”

Simon pulled off your bike shorts, forcing you to lift your hips off the counter, and ripped them off of your feet in one quick swoop. Your shirt disappeared just as fast, and the cool air in the empty kitchen rushed across your body, making your flesh pebble from the shock. But, you melted as soon as you felt Simon’s thick fingers spread your pussy lips apart, reaching for your tight, wet hole. When he found your warmth, you both sighed into each other, relieved and yet ablaze. 

His other hand was still pressed to your belly as if he was keeping you and your baby hidden from the world, holding you both in his palm possessively. The contrast was mesmerizing. His fingers pounded into you, sheathing themselves down to the knuckle, wet and sticky, while his other was gentle and soft, caressing you as sweetly as he could. You felt a strong, rushing orgasm build within you, and as soon as you began to clench around him, he took his fingers away, leaving you teetering on the edge with nothing to grab onto. 

“Ungh! What… Si? Please,” you whined, looking up to him with wide glassy eyes.

His expression was serious, and he leaned in close to taunt you,

“Whose baby are you havin’?”

“I don’t know. We said we would —”

His fingers were back, pressing down cruelly into your walls, making it feel like his fat dick was prodding through your entrance,

“Whose…” His fingers sank into you, making a popping wet noise. “Fuckin’...” He pulled them out of you, painting your wetness on your lips, “Baby…” Back in. “Is…” Back out. “It?” Back in, and this time, a third finger joined them.

“Simon!” You cried out, but you were alone in the room. The others must have been outside dealing with the moving boxes. 

“That’s right,” he brought your face up to his, tangling a fist into your hair, “Tell me it’s mine.”

“It’s too much, Si…” You were shocked by how stretched you felt, and your pussy was soaked, trying to accommodate its intruder, your muscles shaking from being spread apart. 

“Whose —”

“Yours… fuck! Si, you’re gonna make me come!” You felt it break inside of you, bursting through like a firework, crackling through your belly and making you squirt on his hands… and your brand new kitchen tile. 

“Oh, bloody hell. That’s a good girl.”

Just when you thought he would give you his cock, he began to slowly press his hand into you again, fucking you with his three wide fingers still inside of you, stretching you all the way down to his knuckles. 

“Si?” You whimpered, confused, starving for the comforting feeling of his heavy rod. 

“Wha’ is it, love?” He didn’t even look up at you. He was transfixed, focused on your swollen hole. 

“Fuck me… please?” You reached out for him, grasping at his wide forearm, trying to coax him to take the next step. 

In an almost dismissive way, he caught Price before he walked back outside and nodded at him, 

“Oy, mate. Hold her for me, yeah?”

To your shock, John walked over, studied you for a second as you writhed in your predicament, and stood on the other side of the island countertop, behind your head. He chuckled, 

“What have you gotten yourself into, pretty girl?” 

The captain took both of your arms and locked them in his, sticking them up behind your head, watching your tits hang freely, bouncing up and down as Ghost pounded his hand into your sopping pussy. 

You gritted your teeth, feeling your body respond to your capture, ready and eager to come again so soon after its last onslaught. 

“I can’t… I’m…” 

“Gonna come again,” Simon grinned, “Yeah, I can feel it. Needy thing, innit she?”

“She is,” John agreed, pinning your arms just a little tighter, ready for you to try and wriggle away. 

You were breathing heavy, and your muscles kept tightening up on you, freezing you in place as you tried to squirm free. If only you could pull your arms around you, maybe you could hold off the brutal fire building in your chest, burning down your ribs and spinning like a spiral in that impossibly tight coil that he was working with his fingers. 

It was when he bent to suck on your clit that you lost it. You felt the knot that was tangled up inside of you slip, the long rope sliding against its own bite, loose and unwieldy, letting you freefall through the sparkling, black abyss of your impossibly deep pleasure. 

“That’s what I wanna see, love,” your blond beast growled up at you, showing you his white fangs, “Give me that come. Give it to me! Yes! Fuck!”

You heard the wet noises that were coming from you, not understanding where they were coming from or how, but also not caring one bit. All you cared about was riding the relentless wave of pleasure. The more he fucked you on his hand, the more you rolled through the tumbling ebb and flow of your bliss. 

Hot tears cut across your temples, and it was John’s soft mouth that kissed them away, shushing you,

“It’s okay, love. Be good for Simon, yeah? Be our good girl. You can do that, right?”

You nodded weakly, leaning your cheek into his scruffy kisses, letting him nuzzle you, comforting you as Ghost pulled you apart.

John used his warm hands to pet your breasts, plucking gently at your nipples, lingering on their silky skin, 

“Such a pretty little thing, lettin’ Si use that pussy. You look bloody beautiful like this, love.”

His praise made you feel drunk. Now, all you wanted was to be good for them. You wanted more of that lovesick approval. What more could you give them? How could you appease the gods of your pleasure?

You canted your hips, humping Simon’s hand, letting him reach deeper and deeper on each thrust, rocking your body against the hard countertop. 

Ghost made a painful groan inside his throat, obviously pleased with your performance, and he leaned forward to suck on your breasts, biting and licking more than he was kissing, but it was enough to make you keen in high-pitched whines, catching Soap and Gaz’s attention in the other room. 

You didn’t halt your shameless undulation for their benefit. You were far beyond the point of shame. You were only focused on coming again and again and again — as many times as your commander needed you to — built to serve him. Them…

Gaz’s bright smile widened as he came up beside Ghost,

“My, my, my. Makin’ quite a mess, hm, babes?”

“A right gorgeous mess,” Soap added, licking his lips, obviously eager to taste the honey Simon had harvested from you. 

Now that he had his team with him, Simon pulled you off the counter top and put your feet on the ground. He positioned you so that he could fuck you from behind, but he was too tall. So, he simply held you up, easily supporting your weight, his heavy arm underneath your hips. Price, Gaz, and Soap all stood in front of you, their belt buckles in your line of sight, and watched as Ghost fed his solid cock into your wet hole. The captain grabbed you by the hair, forcing your chin up, and with each thrust from Simon, your mouth crashed right into Price’s zipper. 

“Mm,” he sighed, “Perfect height, innit?”

With his free hand, he unbuckled the belt, pulled down his zipper, and let the button free from his pants. Then, you were face to face with his fat dick, as hard as steel and ready to be buried in your throat. 

You opened your mouth, trying to look up at your captain, but it was no use, you couldn’t see him, all you could see was the head of his cock being pressed into your lips, inch after inch of him disappearing into your mouth, making you gag. 

As Simon thrust forward, Price pulled out, and then the reverse. As you felt your pussy empty from its delightful stretch, your throat was invaded by Price’s uncut, drooling monster. You were always full, no matter what, and your brain had no idea how to prioritize your efforts. So, for the most part, you were helpless, hanging limp between the two huge men, being used by them in a cyclic, tantric rhythm, ceaselessly and towards a blinding, white-hot joy. 

Suddenly, you felt two mouths on your hanging breasts, suckling from each nipple as if you would feed them, laving at your skin relentlessly. You knew it was Gaz and Soap from the feeling of their kisses, but you couldn’t see them, so every movement was a surprise. Someone’s hand began to play in your folds, discovering the hard round body of your clit and teasing it as SImon slammed himself into you. 

You came, but it was silent. Price’s cock wouldn’t let any noise escape, but he could feel you screaming. He took a step forward, fully sheathed inside of you now, cutting off your air, making you choke roughly. Your whole body clenched down before you told it to relax, and the sound that came from Simon was a singular delight. It seemed like he was in some kind of heaven. 

“Oh, fuckin’ hell. Tha’s damn good,” Ghost hissed, “Do it again, Cap.”

Price obliged, choking you down on his cock, making your jaw stretch to its limit, burying your nose in his soft curls. You lapped at his base with your tongue, participating in the small way that you could, balancing yourself on his hips. 

“Ungh!” Price groaned, emptying his load into you. 

Simon was coming too, and you could feel the heat from both of them pooling inside of you. 

You weren’t sure whose arms you were in, but someone held you tightly, helping you stand on shaking legs, petting your face, telling you not to swallow. 

“Hm?” You tried to catch your bearings, and Soap held your face in his hands, his thumbs trying to pull your mouth open. 

“C’mon, bonnie. Open up. Show me his come, yeah? Lemme taste it.”

You were out of your mind, but you were pliant and fully drowning in your subspace, eager to obey. You opened your mouth to him, feeling him lick Price’s come out of you, sucking it off of your tongue. Then, he dropped to his knees, licking it back into your cunt, mixing it with Simon’s, eating you out and filling you up at the same time. 

Gaz was still on his knees as well, and you could feel his huge hands pull your ass cheeks apart, the tip of his strong tongue prodding at your asshole, trying to squeeze itself through the tight muscle. 

He found a way in, and you were being eaten from both sides, held upright by Soap’s strong arms. You held onto his mohawk for help, trying to steady yourself. Their mouths were so warm, and yet you shivered, the pleasure overwhelming you. 

A big thumb came and wiped more tears from your cheek, 

“Shh, pretty girl. You can take it, yeah?” 

It was John. He was comforting you, his softening cock still hanging heavy and low outside of his pants, shining from your mouth. He coached you,

“Breathe for me. Gonna come for them, aren’t you? Yeah, tha’s a good girl. Just let it happen. Shh, shh. Pretty little thing…”

“Ahhhngh!” You screamed from deep within your chest, and you knew you had squirted again, all over Soap’s face. You felt it happen. Now that Simon had primed you for it, you nearly had control, but not quite. It was like a button that was too high to press. 

“Fuck, yes, lass. You taste so fuckin’ sweet. Holy shite,” Johnny came up off the ground and held you up so that your legs were straddling him. It didn’t take much for him to stuff himself into your pussy after Simon’s work, and yet he filled you in an entirely different way. At the same time, you felt Gaz behind you, his fingers playing in your asshole, and then, his soft cockhead. 

It took Gaz much longer to get fully settled, but as Johnny fucked his dick up into you, he found a way. You felt Gaz’s wide palm wrap itself around your throat from behind, not to choke you but to hold you upright, keeping you straight even though everything in you wanted to collapse. 

“That’s it, babes. This tight little arse belongs to me, yeah? Tell us who you fuckin’ belong to.”

“You… ungh, I’m… ahhh!” You tried to speak, but it was so much easier to whimper. 

“C’mon, pretty girl,” John was back, fondling your breasts as his men fucked you in both of your holes, “You can do far better than that.”

You met his eyes, and behind the icy blue, there roared a blazing fire. Simon had come to join you on the other side of Johnny, and the same flames lay within him as well. 

“I’m yours,” you promised all four of them at once, “This baby is yours,” you heard them collectively groan at varying levels of excitement and possession, “All yours. Always.”

“Good girl,” Simon praised you before Price could, parting your lips with his fingers, the same ones he had tortured you with, and stuck them in your mouth, “Now, suck.”

You did, keeping your eyes on him as you licked your own come off of his skin, feeling Price’s beard brush against your chest, latching onto the nipple he loved to abuse, biting at it to make it stiffen. 

“Mmff-fuck,” the captain mumbled as he sucked on your skin, “I can’t wait for your milk to come in.”

“Dinnae even start. Gonnae make me come just thinkin’ about it, Cap’n,” Johnny agreed, bending his neck to suck from your other breast, imagining drinking from you. 

Simon pressed his fingers deeper down your throat, and because of Price’s earlier invasion, you took him easily, proud of yourself for not gagging, using your mouth and tongue to take Ghost’s hand as far as he wanted it to go. You could see what your performance was doing to him. His chest was rising and falling, breathing hard from the excitement. 

Gaz’s cock was now pounding into your ass with as much power as you could take, and as he increased his speed, you started to feel yourself come in a new way. The sparks were still there, but they were coming from somewhere dark and mysterious, flowing over you softly, like frothy waves of foam, ethereal and light. 

You reached back and grabbed his neck at the nape, digging your nails into his flesh, spurring him on. 

“Ungh, goddamnit,” he cried out, kissing your throat that he still held in his hand, biting you none too gently. 

“Kyle… please, I need… I need you,” you pulled your mouth away from Ghost and whispered to him, and with whatever strength he had left, he fucked his long shaft into your ass, feeling your beating pulse deep within your body. 

His mouth was right on your ear, and he whispered, 

“I’m coming, baby. I’m coming… I’m — ahngh!”

“Oh, fuck!” Soap lay his forehead on your other shoulder, and began to rut into you without any mercy, the idea of Gaz’s throbbing cock filling you up too much for him to bear. 

They held you between them, frozen in time, letting their cocks erupt inside of your warm belly, filling you with their load. As they pulled away, you heard the wet noise of their spend hitting the tile, pouring out of you in a lurid stream. You hissed from the empty feeling you were left with, and the only thing you could hold onto was the memory of the feeling. 

“You alright, love?” John asked you, petting your cheek. 

“It’s alright, I’ve got her. You lot can finish settin’ up. C’mon, love,” Ghost told them, swinging your limp body up into his arms and carrying you to the bathroom. 

Inside the large bathroom, you saw that they had packed all of your toiletry effects, and they were strewn about, tossed in bags, waiting to be organized. Simon sat you down on the edge of the tub and began to fill it, checking the temperature with his hand before helping you sit inside. 

The water was warm as it began to pool around you, and you had the pleasure of watching Ghost undress, preparing to join you. He was a tall man, but the tub was large, and you were eager to feel his body against yours again. 

In the bright light of the bathroom, his scars were on full display. They didn’t bother you, but they made you feel very protective. As if you had a time machine and could go back and slaughter the bastards who had made them. He caught you staring and teased you for it,

“You lookin’ for round two already, missus?”

You blushed, looking away shyly. 

“Nuh uh,” he chided, sinking into the tub behind you, “Where’s my nasty little slag who squirted for me in my kitchen, hm?”

“Si…” You played coy, snuggling back against him in the water, feeling his flesh slip against yours, just as warm. His furry belly jerked from his silent laughter against your back, and he used his huge hands to rub soap down your arms as he began to clean you. 

“Pretend all you want, love. I know the truth. You love being our filthy girl, innit that right?”

“You got me,” you sighed, letting him clean your body, feeling his hands rub you up and down, lingering on your breasts a little too long. He pulled at your nipples, soft at first and then cruelly, until you made a noise of protest. 

He teased you again, rubbing them in slow, agonizing circles, 

“You gonna let me have a taste, hm?”

“Huh?” You looked up at him over your shoulder, not understanding what he wanted at first. 

“When your milk comes in,” he used both hands to squeeze your tits, making them rise out of the water, pressing them up until they looked huge on your chest, “Bet they’re gonna be so full, so big. I read that book Johnny bought. Says your nipples might get darker. I’m ready to see that.”

“Are you sure? You might not like the way I look,” you said, testing his desire. 

“Bollocks. Dark nipples, huge tits, drippin’ milk, big swollen belly with my fuckin’ baby in it? You’re proper mad if you think that’s not what I want. Fuck, it’s all any of us can think about.”

“What else do you think about?” You asked dreamily, closing your eyes and letting him massage the soap into your breasts, squeezing them in a steady, slow pattern, comforting himself with their heavy softness.

“Think about hearin’ their laugh. About what color eyes they’ll have. Think about comin’ home to you and the lads. Christmas morning. All the wrapping paper torn up all over the floor. Think about crawlin’ into bed with you every damn night. Thinkin’ about holding them for the first time. About how much I love you.”

You opened your eyes then, looking up at him to see the truth, and when you saw how earnest he was, no longer hiding behind his snarky jokes, something in you opened. A door. Some new beginning. 

“I love you, too, Si.”

Idk how many more of these chapters I've got in me. Just submitting to the process, I guess. Do y'all still even want to read these? Who knows.

While you wait for the next installment, please consider checking out my other work. Thank you!

[cfaarchive]

Artist Scam

There's an artist scam going around on all fanfiction websites (including attempts on the CFAA), whereby someone comments on a fic saying they were so inspired, they'd like to do paid work for you.  Sometimes these are lazy plug-and-play comments that have no story details, sometimes they're more elaborate, but they are always a scam.  Always.  I'm going to be watching (this is why the invite queue has such a long delay), but if you get one of these comments via guest commenting or anything else, let me know on Discord or Tumblr ASAP.

1.) No real artists begs for commissions on peoples' fanfiction.

2.) Commercialization of the CFAA (and AO3! and every other archive running OTW-A!) is against the terms of service and will be dealt with swiftly and harshly.

3.) They'll steal your money.  If they give you anything back, it'll be some lazy, AI-generated bullshit.  Don't fall for it.  A real artist fan of your work who was that inspired would almost always either draw for it and gift it to you, or would ask if they could draw for it and gift it to you.  I've done that myself.  What they will never do is come and ask you for money.

Be safe out there, this is going on everywhere.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Psst, hear me out: The Beast being fucking yanderes with the ancients.

You Get It™️ I mean... Did you guys see episode 6? Burning Simp Cookie is already a yandere lol. He's been there and he refuses to leave. And Shadow Milk is honestly not that far behind, he feels some type of way towards Pure Vanilla and it would be cute if it wasn't so sad and creepy lol

Really though, I just love hero/villain ships in general (always have, since long before Cookie Run ever existed) and I get a kick out of villains acting stupid over crushes (read: obsessions), and acting stupid in general. There's just something about a villain being in love with the hero to a psychotic, comical degree, and the hero rebuffing them at every turn that's just really amusing to me lol. Like what Joker sort of has with Batman, you know?

Here are my Yandere Beasts in bare-bones terms:

Burning Spice: come on, if you've read my stuff, you know EXACTLY what Yandere Spice is like lol. If not, I'll refer you to this and this, as well as my fics on AO3. If those don't tell you what Yandere Spice is like then idk how else to help you lol

Shadow Milk: if the final boss of theater/drama kids had a crush but was also a malignant narcissist of some sort lol. Absolutely DESPERATE for Vanilla's attention at all times. If he's not actively trying to worm into Vanilla's brain and harass him in his thoughts and dreams, he's in the real world brainstorming better ways to do that lol. He does not grasp why the creepy puppet shows and gaslighting attempts aren't convincing Vanilla to fall in love with him. Will attack and torment and insult Vani in one breath and then praise and love and worship him in another, because he's a histrionic clown freak with whirlwind emotions. But above all else, he literally thinks he owns Vani and is meticulously plotting the horrible and hilarious demise of any and all he perceives as a threat to their union

Eternal Sugar: World's Laziest Stalker™️. Almost exclusively haunts Holly in her dreams (I have to assume that that's what her power will entail, as the Beast of Sloth); however, she's more "effective" in her wooing attempts due to her past experience as the Herald of Happiness. She actually goes out of her way to construct dreams and the like that have things in them that make Holly happy (or what she thinks makes Holly happy; she, as well as the others, has big tunnel vision and is very selfish and self-absorbed, and thus pays more lip service to her own wants than those of who she loves/obsesses over). Thankfully doesn't run into Holly in person often because that's work... but sometimes she DOES work up the nerve to go after her for real, and... well

Mystic Flour: Denial, denial, denial. Not just a river in Egypt the Golden Cheese Kingdom, but she'll say and act like otherwise. No, she does not like Dark Cacao. He robbed her of her volition and the chance to enact her will. He prevented her from freeing the world from pain and suffering. He is a stubborn fool who refuses to understand the truth. He... is very handsome. She does not like how handsome he is. It is distracting. She doesn't like dwelling on her memories of him and their encounters. She doesn't like how she came to harbor a single kernel of respect in her heart after he stood his ground against her; a kernel that she inadvertently nurtured and cultivated slowly but surely, until... no. No, she doesn't like Dark Cacao. She doesn't think about him all day. She doesn't want to try to lure him back to her land so she can trap him in the flour fog with her again. She doesn't miss feeling his dark eyes on her. She doesn't deeply resent his attachment to his people, and seek to transfer that attachment to her instead. No, she... damn it, he's ruined her. He's made her feel things again. He's made her succumb to selfishness and greed, to earthly desire and attachment - desire for HIM, attachment to HIM. All of her hard work and enlightenment gone to waste... She doesn't want to like Dark Cacao, she recognizes the folly in such a thing, but she's stuck - and so stuck is she that not only does she not really see a way out, she doesn't WANT one. She's become too content with her attachment to him too quickly. Now she has to agonize over her own foolishness, and try to keep denying that she doesn't care while also longing for his attention and wanting to do away with all that steals his attention away from her

Silent Salt: probably the least awful of the five, but he's still creepy and that's not a high bar to clear anyway lol. Has a better grasp on "normal" behavior than the others (like... he pays attention to what White Lily likes/wants and tries to adjust accordingly), but he's following her around everywhere and acting extremely violent and territorial over her towards anyone who he catches approaching her. He's legitimately, surprisingly sweet and gentle towards her; he brings her flowers, he listens to her when she asks/tells him something, he's more or less respectful of her personal space (he will try to be as physically close to her as possible, but actually backs off a little if she asks him to, only to try again, and so on and so forth)... but he's still a villain, he's still violent and creepy, he still gets angry when she pays attention to other people for too long and he has brought actual harm to others out of jealousy. He's the best of the worst but that really doesn't mean much of anything, he's still a psycho creep like the others

In short, they form a tight-knit coalition of absolutely fucking deranged freakazoids and they should all probably die :)

[the-fic-rex]

5 basic things you can do to improve your ao3 experience +1 thing that will not help

Get an account

There is a process to this- you need to get on a waitlist and then will be sent an email to make an account (at this point in time the wait time is about a week)- but once you have an account you unlock a lot of features that make the whole experience better, such as the marked for later list, turning off the extra acknowledgement for adult content, mute users, and you can see more fics that are only available to people with an account.

2. Use a site skin

This can be as simple as just getting dark mode (the reversi skin), or it can dramatically change the viewing experience. There are premade ones to chose from that require absolutely zero coding. Skins can also just be applied to one platform- for example on mobile devices you can consolidate tags. You can also use skins to hide works or tags you don’t like or that have a lot of fics that clog up search results.

3. Search by things other than fandom

If you love a trope and want to see more of it or love a niche character, click on the tag to search within it. You may get fewer results but it will allow you to scratch that specific itch without having to wade through 100s of pages of results. If you search by a trope, you can then apply a fandom tag on top of that so you see the characters you love.

4. Download fics

AO3 makes downloading fics super easy and you should do it! Whether you know you will be offline, are concerned that a fic could be deleted, you want to read on a e-reader instead, or you just want to be prepared for the next AO3 crash, downloading fics can let you read with no limits. The download button is at the top of each fic and lets you download a bunch of different file formats.

5. Interact with authors

One of the things I love most about reading fanfic as opposed to traditional media is that the people writing the fics are just as into the fandom as you are. So by leaving kudos, commenting, subscribing and checking out any linked social medias, you can get involved or give back to the community. Take this with the warning that authors may not want to interact back with you and have no obligation to, but to some authors a comment on their fic will make their day which is just a good goal to strive for if you liked a fic.

Even if you don’t want to leave a comment or follow an author's socials, a subscription is a nice way to feel a bit included in the writing process. Once you subscribe to a work, series, or author, you get fun emails whenever something updates! It keeps you from wondering if you missed something and makes reading your email a more enjoyable experience.

+1

Don't make it anyone else's problem if you didn’t like a fic

This is a little obvious but it is worth repeating- commenting that you didn’t like a fic changes nothing. If you don't like a fic, you don’t have to finish it! If you did finish it but wish you didn’t, that is what the back button is for. If you keep forgetting you didn’t like a fic and keep clicking on it, you can create a skin that blocks it from view, or mute the author. If you didn’t like the content, filter out the tag describing that thing using "Other Tags to Exclude" within the Sort and Filter menu.  If something is against the AO3 terms of service, you can report it. 

None of those things need to be shared with the author and doing so just makes the internet a less fun place. 

Happy reading!

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 10 - Terms and Conditions

Now that you're part of the crew, it's time to set some ground rules.

WC: 4k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

You sat sleepily in Heat's lap, well, not his lap really, more like the middle of his tail. It was coiled in a tight spiral, your rump sat firmly atop it, your back pressed against his warm chest and his warm arms around your center. His naturally hot body temperature soothed the aches you still had from yesterday, he was taking such good care of you, knowing how worn out you were from taking most of the crew. He graciously hadn't attempted to mount you, but he hovered close by, which was welcomed given his sweet doting and care you were very much in need of. Your joints ached from the positions you'd been in for such a long period of time and your pussy was raw and aching. You didn't speak more than needed and Killer had provided soft foods, knowing your jaw was stiff from all the pussy eating and cock sucking you'd done. You were happy though. You felt content, and finally safe and secure in your position here. Well, as safe as you could be, now that you were officially a pirate.

“Now then Mouse,” Kid grinned, “let's make things official, aye? We believe ya story now, or at least we're trying our best to. It's still hard to accept yer from another universe. But you've at least proven your usefulness to us, so ya can stay on the crew. How bout it, Mouse? Ya wanna join my crew?”

“Yes captain,” you smiled sleepily, “will my job here be as your… bed warmer?”

“Aye, you'll be our ship whore,” Kid smirked, “only for the four of us here though, unless we decide to give someone a night with ya as a reward. You good with that?”

“Yes captain, as long as my boundaries are respected,” you stated.

“Of course lass,” Kid replied, “Wire will draw up a contract for ya later. He's the most knowledgeable here, he'll make sure your boundaries are laid out for us. Everyone we let have you will be made clear of your conditions. You're still up for the four of us free using you, aye? It was your original offer. I did let you live, after all.”

“Within limits, yeah,” you responded, trying to not let your lust-addled brain distract you from an important conversation. Being free used by four big, strong, attractive, well endowed men? Ohhhh what a horror, the worst thing you could imagine. “I like what we've got going on. Will I be given a share of the loot like the others?”

“Of course lass,” Kid chuffed, “if anything you'll be paid better. You'll be saving us a great deal of money by servicing us instead of having to spend money on island whores. We'll give you your own room, for convenience. Everyone else shares but the four of us, but I'm not sure anyone is keen on losing sleep whenever we have need of ya. There's a lounge in the castle we barely use, we'll have it cleared out for ya. We're on our way back to Sabaody as we speak, you can go to the shops and get whatever you need to get set up once we dock. We'll back pay you for your time since ya started servicing us.”

“Thank you captain,” you replied gratefully. You didn't expect him to pay you for your time as a prisoner. “That's generous of you. I won't let you down.”

“You'll probably find your bed doesn't get much use, unless you're in need of a break,” Kid continued with a chuckle, “but it'll give you somewhere to keep your shit anyway.

“Speaking of resting,” you interjected, “I had a bit of an idea. In terms of the free-using. I was wondering if you'd make me a more long term wearable collar, something that won't irritate my skin, thin perhaps. With a tag that has your jolly roger. I thought maybe we could use it as a signal, if I'm not wearing the collar then I'm in need of rest.”

“EXCELLENT IDEA!” Kid roared, spooking you a little as he thumped his fist against the table, “I'll make ya a collar that'll make everyone jealous of ya!”

“Thank you, captain,” you smiled, nuzzling sleepily against Heat's bicep.

“Tired, Mouse?” Kid smirked.

“Mmm,” you mumbled, “I feel like I'm hungover from yesterday. Drunk on dick I guess. And pussy.”

Killer and Wire snorted while Kid made a boisterous laugh. “Before you fall asleep,” Killer jumped in, “is there anything we need to know for the immediate future?”

“Mmm,” you mumbled, trying to sit upright, to which Heat helped you, nuzzling his face against your back, “you need to get the ship coated before Ace's execution, cos after that the only coater I know will be busy.”

“Where do we find him?” Wire asked.

“You're all familiar with the coater already, in fact you met him the other day,” you alluded, “Silvers Rayleigh, he can coat the ship. You'll find him, or at least his wife, Shakky, in grove thirteen at Shakky's Rip-Off Bar. You unintentionally helped his friend rescue that mermaid by helping the Straw Hats escape, so he should be amenable to coating the ship.”

“He's the coater?” Kid exclaimed, “the fuck is the ‘Dark King’ doing coating ships?”

“Paying for his alcoholism, mostly,” you yawned, making the others snort laughs.

“Alright then Sleeping Beauty,” Kid laughed, before his smile fell to a more serious expression, “we don't have to worry about this whole execution shit, right?”

“There'll be a war, but your crew won't be involved,” you replied, “it'll all happen over at the marine base. You'll just see it on a screen on Sabaody.”

“Alright then,” Kid huffed, pleased and relieved with your answer. It was no secret that there was tension in the air regarding the execution and whether returning to Sabaody was even safe tight now. There were reports that Whitebeard was on the move to save Ace, and it made Kid uneasy, but he trusted your prediction, you hadn't let him down thus far. “Go get some rest then princess, we promise we'll behave till you're up to it. I'll have that collar for ya before your pussy is ready to get destroyed again.”

Kid winked as he stood and grabbed a boob as he passed by, making you squeal and slap his hand playfully as the captain chuckled. You started to stand as well, but Heat swung you onto his back to carry you, making you giggle as you grabbed his horns for support. “Giddy up!” You laughed. He pretended to buck you, which only made you giggle more, Killer shaking his head with a grin under his mask as Heat carried you out. He and Heat were in high spirits, overly relieved and happy that your story had been proven true and you got to stay. You'd promised Heat to do some sunbathing with him on top of the dinosaur skull while the sun was out, it was a good excuse for a nap and a cuddle really.

You hopped off Heat's back as he made it up, he was surprisingly fast and agile in this form. It'd made you curious as to why he didn't use this form more, to which he had told you that it ‘wasn't polite’ to go around in that form, whatever that meant. Maybe it was like how zoan fruit users usually stayed in their human form? Heat laid down first, making a pleased grunt as his head rested on the pillow he'd chucked up here earlier, his long tail stretching along the skull like an arrow pointed at the distant Sabaody that hovered on the horizon.

“I'm really glad you get to stay,” Heat hummed as you got comfy next to him, resting your head on his chest, tucked into the crook of his armpit.

“Yeah, me too,” you murmured back with a big yawn. Heat gave you a soft smile and a little squeeze before the yawn caught him too.

“Alright, ready to get started?” Wire asked, tapping the tip of the feathered pen against the page in front of him, “I've made a list of kinks the crew like to indulge in. You just let me know which ones you're comfortable with. Ready?”

“Yup!” You smiled back sweetly, leaning forward and resting your face in your palm, your elbow against the table. It was just you and Wire in the navigation room, he didn't want you to have the pressure of the others watching you and potentially pressuring you into things you weren't comfortable with.

“First item - free use for the four commanders, under the circumstances that your collar is on. That much I know you're good with, but what about outside of that?” He asked.

“A big maybe,” you replied, “I'm a regular woman without the collar. If they can seduce me, sure. But I reserve the right to deny them without consequence.”

“Okay, seems reasonable,” he replied, the pen making scratching noises as he jotted it down, “I have a list of things you've already participated in, so I'll just run through them quickly so you can confirm them for the contract. Touching of all body parts, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, blow jobs, deep throating, face fucking, use of strap on, cum on body including face and genitals and inclusive of female cum, cum in mouth, creampies. Threesome, degradation, praise, bathing together, face riding, both giving and receiving, those are the basics, yes to all of the above?”

“Can we make an amendment for no cum near my eyes?” You asked him, “otherwise yes to everything else.”

“No cum near eyes, got it,” he wrote on the page, “the next set is things you've done that are on the more intense side. Gangbang, bukkake, self-wetting, humiliation, somnophilia, exhibitionism, bondage, pet play and master/servant dynamics, both as dominant and submissive. Amenable to all of those?”

“Somnophilia is the sleep one, yeah?” You queried.

“Aye,” Wire confirmed.

“Okay, yeah that's fine,” you confirmed, “but um… I don't want Heat watching me use the toilet anymore. And I'm not eating out of a bowl or shitting in a litterbox.”

“Noted,” Wire replied, scribbling that down, “you were fine with the self-wetting though? What about other watersports?”

“I've never tried but, I'm not not curious,” you replied unsurely, “the self-wetting was… enlightening.”

“I'll put it down as a maybe, for future experimentation. You can change your mind later if you want, same goes for anything on this list,” Wire assured you, “now for the requests. Anal fingering, mouth to ass, anal sex. Receiving and giving. Thoughts?”

“Yeah, those are fine. I've done a few on the giving end as well, but I guess that person wanted to keep it to himself,” you noted, “just uh… only receiving the whole way with proper lubrication. No spit as lube bullshit unless it's only fingers.”

“Got it,” Wire confirmed, “next up, use of toys such as dildos and vibrators, use of nipple clamps, impact play, with hands and equipment. Bondage such as shibari, cuffs, bed, wall and furniture mounted restraints. Sensory deprivation. Tickling. Forced orgasms. Edging. Thoughts?”

“No to the tickling, limited to impact play. I'm not a fan of pain,” you explained, “light smacking is fine, but you can cross off anything too painful, otherwise yes to everything else.”

“I'll cross off knife play and hook suspension,” Wire said as his pen ran a line through several items, “next set. Foot play, non-con roleplay, softcore roleplay such as maid, fisting, sex under the influence of alcohol and drugs, use of purpose built furniture such as breeding benches, double penetration, of separate holes and of multiple cocks in one hole.” Wire looked at you expectantly, his pen paused over the page.

“Uhh, no to fisting,” you ran through the list in your head trying to make sure you remembered everything, “um… yes to one in the ass, one in the cunt. Maybe to two in my cunt, I've never tried. Definitely no to two in my ass.”

“I think you could manage two in one,” Wire smirked, “as long as I wasn't one of them. You took me so well.”

“Mmm, I certainly want to try,” you hummed, “quit reminding me of your big beefy cock or I won't be able to concentrate.”

“We're almost done,” Wire snorted and shook his head, “anything else not on this contract, we'll ask first. You'll be paid the same split as Heat and I get. You'll use the colour system for safe words regardless of if your collar is on or not. Green when prompted to go ahead, orange if something needs to change or you need a break, red if you need to stop. No consequences will come from using the safe words so please don't be afraid to use them. By signing this you agree to remain up to date with your birth control unless an explicit agreement is made to impregnate you, you may expect that from Heat or Killer, Kid and I aren't the type to want babies. If an accident happens, Kid promises not to kick you off the ship. The rest of the crew will keep their hands off you unless you give them permission, otherwise a maximum of once a week we may choose to allow them a night with you as a reward. You won't allow anyone outside of this ship to touch you without permission from your captain. You will remain on this crew unless relieved of your contract by the captain. You'll also be given regular STI screening, as the four of us do, and all other crewmates will be required to use protection with you. Do you agree to all these terms?”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed, openly ogling Wire's muscular torso, “you wanna fuck?”

“Sign here first,” he shuffled the page over to you and you quickly signed it, biting your lip as he stood and rounded the table. He loomed over you from behind your chair, running his hand up your neck until his hand was sweeping your chin up, forcing you to look at him. You pushed aside the page with its drying ink and sat on the edge of the table, spreading your legs for Wire to slot between them.

“What happened to having a sore cunt?” Wire mused, running his thumb over your lower lip, pressing against the soft flesh. He was all for fucking you, he'd been thinking a lot about your tight cunt and wanted to take his time with you. He worried though that you were ignoring your limits.

“Well you see there's this thing called ‘remembering how fucking big and hot your cock is’ and unfortunately I'm no good at disagreeing with my pussy, she wants what she wants,” you purred back up at him, peeking out your tongue to lick his digit before taking it in your mouth, humming as you sucked his thumb.

“You're so cute when you're being submissive,” Wire grinned, replacing his thumb with his pointer and middle finger and gagging you with them, “I have been wanting to get a taste of that pretty cunt of yours. No collar though,” he hummed, running his finger down your neck and tracing a trail of saliva over where the collar would sit, “so I have to ask, can I taste you, princess?”

“Please do,” you huffed, pulling your legs up so your feet rested on the table, showing off your flexibility as you sat back. You'd never properly redressed after waking up, still just wearing one of Heat's old shirts, large enough to fit as a baggy dress on you, your pussy exposed and inviting underneath. You tugged on the hem of the shirt to reveal yourself to Wire, who hummed appreciatively as he ran his thumb between your folds.

“Already wet for me,” Wire cooed as he knelt, “such a good girl.”

He kissed your thighs softly, making you giggle, before his teeth sunk into the soft flesh and the giggle turned to a moan. He nipped you a few more times before his tongue ran a fat stripe up your cunt, and your hand pushed away his hood to tug at his short hair. His tongue lapped against your pussy as he pulled your legs to rest over his shoulders, giving the occasional suck of your bud that made you whine. He was clearly enjoying himself as well, grunting against your cunt as his tongue bullied its way inside you, licking at your walls while his hand looped over your thigh to thumb your clit. You could feel his pointed sideburns against your thighs as he ate you out, his thumb making small, firm circles on your bud as his thick tongue wiggled inside you.

“Oh fuck that's good,” you moaned, laying back against the table, “just like that, fuck.”

His other hand weaselled up under his chin, the end of his middle finger toying with your asshole and spreading the slick and spit that had rolled down around the ring before sinking in. There was a spark of electricity in your clit as his finger pushed inside your ass, not quite finger fucking you, just toying with your hole for extra stimulation. It made that coil in your stomach pull tight, your back arching off the table as you fisted his hair, holding him tight against you. You could feel the coy grin he made against your cunt, and you made the mistake of looking down, immediately catching his eyes that were watching you carefully from between your legs. Those fucking eyes, they always did something to you, and you threw back your head with a groan, cumming on his tongue, his finger forced out of your ass by the contractions your orgasm made.

He gave you a few more greedy licks that made you shiver before he stood, making a show out of unfastening his pants and laying his thick erection against your stomach as his shorts and briefs pooled at his ankles. He rut his cock between your folds, getting his shaft coated in slick and spit and rubbing against your over-stimulated clit. “You're so pretty like this, blissed out with my cock laying against you,” he noted, “pull your shirt up, I wanna see your tits.”

You obediently did as he asked in your post orgasm daze, squishing and kneading your tits for his enjoyment. He groaned as you pulled at your own nipples, your hips rolling to grind against his shaft on their own accord. “You want it bad, huh? Cute little bunny, horny little thing,” Wire purred, putting more force into the rutting. He took himself in his hand and pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, pushing only the tip in and stretching you out. That on its own was enough to make you whine and try to shift to take more of him. “So greedy, trying to get more already. I'm gonna have fun taking my time with you,” he teased, pulling his tip out and sinking it back in over and over, making you whine at the emptiness each time he removed himself.

“Please!” You begged, “want it, want it so bad.”

“Yeah? You want this?” He asked, suddenly sinking himself in, to what he knew was your limit, before entirely leaving you empty again, his cock rubbing against your clit. “Use your words baby.”

“Want- want your fat cock,” you whimpered, “want it splitting me open. Wanna feel you filling me, please.”

“Such a good girl,” Wire cooed, bullying his cock back inside you, but not moving any further. You only said you wanted it inside you, you never said anything about moving. Wire was a master of restraint, any of the others would have already been fucking your brains out by now, while he enjoyed watching you writhe against the table as he warmed his cock. “That feel good, baby? You like keeping my cock nice and warm?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, “feels so full, hnng. Fuck me Wire, please, please please please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he toyed, before pulling out most of the way and slamming back in, prompting a scream from you at the sudden heavy thrust. He did it over and over, pulling out slowly, then pushing in hard and fast, driving you insane as you got enough stimulation to feel incredible but never enough to sustain the building orgasm, and you got the feeling that was purposeful. Wire was only doing exactly as you asked, he was testing you, teasing you to see how far you would go to beg for it. You reached between your legs to rub your clit, but he quickly grabbed your wrists and folded them against your chest, pinning you down.

“Please,” you begged, “more, please, wanna cum on your cock so bad.”

“How bad do you want it?” Wire teased, “what are you gonna give me in return?”

“Anything!” You cried, “please, anything, please fuck me harder!”

“You're gonna let me frost your face, and you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day,” Wire growled, “you're not washing it off till bedtime. Everyone's gonna see what a little slut you are.”

“Yes! Yes!” You whined, trying and failing to fight his hold to try and fuck yourself with his cock, “please, please, please.”

“Good girl,” Wire praised, before finally committing to a hard and fast pace that had you shrieking and seeing stars. Your pussy made obscene squelches as he fucked it, Wire making grunts and tightening his grip on your arms as he used you like a cock sleeve, loving the way your pussy was already fluttering around him, so desperate to cum, choking his cock like it was desperate for him to breed you. “You gonna squirt for me, bunny? Gonna make a mess?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, unable to escape his hold as he started to overstimulate you, making you dizzy as you felt your orgasm rushing at you. “C-cumming!” You shouted before your thighs clamped around him and shook hard, cum dripping off the side of the table and on to the rug below, some of it drenching his abdomen. His cock never stopped pumping you, the wet sounds now increased tenfold with the added lubrication while you squealed and writhed before finally stilling with a heavy pant.

“Good whore,” Wire purred, “such a good girl.” You barely heard what he was saying, practically lifeless against the table, all you could do was whimper pathetically. Wire got close to his own peak and pulled out, climbing onto the table and straddling your chest. He pumped his cock over you, pleased by the half-lidded puppy dog eyes you were giving him, too weak and fucked out to do more than lick the end of his cock or feebly suck on the tip when he pushed it between your lips. “Close your eyes sweetheart,” he cooed. No sooner had you closed them did he grunt, and you heard his palm hit the table next to your face for support as the first hot spurts of cum hit your face, aimed mostly for your lips and cheek, some of it getting in your hair. It was a large load, and you could already feel it start to drip as he panted, rolling off you to lay on the table beside you, his legs hanging over the edge while yours were folded up, feet against the edge, knees together and still shaking.

“What do you say?” He teased.

“Th-thank you,” you whined.

“Good girl,” he huffed, before surprising you with his softness as he linked his hand with yours, “you're gonna do well here, and we're gonna take good care of you.”

“Mmm,” you replied sleepily, resting your eyes for a moment and enjoying his warm hand encompassing yours. Later you would go to dinner with Wire's cum still coating your face, sitting in his lap so it was clear to everyone who's cum it was. Everyone told you how pretty you looked, and promised they'd paint you too soon.

[Next Chapter]

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[squirrellypoo]

Currently, what are some of your favorite iwtv fics? I’m pretty caught up on a lot of mine and need some recs

Sure! I’ll try to categorise and keep most to recent/currently updating ones just to narrow down my list. These are in no particular order! (And I am terrible at connecting AO3 and tumblr usernames so forgive me if I’m an idiot and missed some)

Vampire ones (mostly Loustat)

“Love like an ache in the jaw” Post-Dubai interview Louis POV where Lestat awakes and comes back to him, with all the pain, turmoil, and love that entails.

“Assignment” Modern AU with an anxious and stressed Louis requesting professional services to lose his virginity. Alternating POV between Louis and Lestat. (ongoing) by @riley-beautrelle

“In the White Room (L’homme Lestat)” Modern vampire story where Lestat is kidnapped by a mysterious organisation and forced to become their assassin while Loumand try to help/rescue him with help from Villanelle (ongoing) by @angstosaur

“Get him back” Romcom with show!vampire Loustat kinda in that weird post-QOTD/TOTBT stage where they’re friends but not together but still inseparable. And there’s Mojo! (Series ongoing)

“Making It Work” Modern show-based Loustat are alternating POV diary entries as they try to forge new ties with Louis’s family’s descendants… (ongoing)

“Half Past Dead” Modern post-Dubai interview with Daniel interviewing (& fucking) a down & out addict vampire Lestat in New Orleans

“The Vampire Detective Agency and the case of the Mozart Murderer” Modern alternate-canon thriller with Loustat solving a murder together in NOLA (ongoing) by @angstosaur

“A favor” PL-era Louis arranges the perfect birthday celebration for Lestat - a massacre at a mobster’s decadent party by @riley-beautrelle

“Epitaph” Each daily chapter is day in the life of Daniel Molloy in Sept 1973 as his life is changed forever when he meets a man who claims to be a vampire… (ongoing, daily updates in March)

Not-quite-human AUs (just trust me)

“Come (Back) to Me” Modern painter Louis is drawn to a painting an an old chateau and time travels back to the 18th century to meet the young marquis in the portrait… by @suikamelon6

“None of them your true nature” modern AU where casino boss Louis starts an affair with the owner Lestat, despite his troubled marriage to Antoinette…

Human AU

“Did you get enough love, my little dove?” Modern human AU with single dad Lestat raising Claudia after her mother Alicia died, and anxiety-ridden Louis finds a loving home at theirs while lusting after Lestat (ongoing)

“Against All Odds” modern human AU with French exchange teen Loustat in first love then complications with Nicki at uni (ongoing) by @moderndaylestat

“I hate you but I love you more” Human AU with teacher Louis and rockstar Lestat, divorced 11 years but crashing back into each others’ lives when they’re locked in a house together. Meanwhile, Armand comes to terms with the demons of his past while he navigates his relationship with Daniel. (ongoing, nearly completed)

“Memory is a monster” Modern human AU with rockstar Lestat losing his memory after a head injury and Louis, Armand, and Daniel vying to heal/have him (ongoing) by @angstosaur

“Bubble Wrap” Modern human AU with actor uni student Louis falling for clumsy writing student Lestat as he deals with his abusive upbringing and they navigate growing up and starting their careers… (ongoing)

“Like You Mean It” Romcom modern human AU with Loustat fake dating their way through 6 weddings and denying their attraction (ongoing)

[catgirl-catboy]

Out of curiosity, if you could make one change to ao3, what would it be?

I'd want:

Change character tags to "MAJOR character" tags and relationship tags to "Relevant relationship" tags to prevent overtagging

Have authors have to click a box stating that their work is actually in line with ao3 terms of service and not a find a fic.

Ban DNI tags because they are against the spirit of the site. Its an archive. Not how it works.

[transformativeworks]

Hello, I dont know if this is the right place for this but I have a question about ao3 terms of service.

Is it against ao3 policy to upload/post mood boards created via stock images along side fics? I have looked several places, and it seems like this is a gray area based on what i have found. I see other creators doing this and I would love to as well, but if its against tos I don't want to violate them.

Thank you for your time.

Hey Nonnie

Posting images is not against the TOS to my knowledge. In fact the FAQ has a whole section on how to embed images in fics.

You can post fanworks that contain text and/or embedded media. However, media types other than text can't currently be hosted by Archive of Our Own (AO3)—they will need to be uploaded to an external site first, and not all sites are supported. If your fanwork contains other media, you can use HTML to embed or link to the externally hosted file in an AO3 work.

In general your best place to direct questions about the AO3 TOS is the support form - where AO3 Support volunteers know all the policies best!

Hope this helps

~ Mod Remi

[orchidego]

ao3 has taken me places I wouldn't even go to with a g*n

smoking on that dramione pack

( @ailenach asked me for a dramione rec list so that's what this post is, anyone else read at your own risk )

Compiler’s note - skip down to the list if you don’t need to know why/what exactly I like in fic!

aka my dramione ethos: The most compelling dynamic in a ship, for me, is when it comprises of two people giving each other the strength to be the people they need to be.

Before he can be loved, Draco must be redeemed. In a way, he’s awfully bad at being a blood supremacist (lacking real conviction). Draco’s Slytherin morality, at least as a teen, compels him only in the direction of protecting and preserving himself and his own; he doesn’t seem to have a morality outside of this. Everything else is borrowed from his fear and desire to conform to his loved ones’s expectations. Contrast with Hermione, who has an outsized sense of morality—she knows exactly what is good and right, and she throws herself into her causes with self-righteous conviction, headstrong and beautifully off-putting.

Draco, the boy who belonged everywhere, watched his fragile worldview turn to ash and became unmoored. Hermione, the girl who belonged nowhere, bent the world towards her through obstinate radiant willpower, and established herself. Two people who could, maybe, find a home in each other.

A Draco in love with Hermione might wrap his morality around her courage, might steady himself while in the service of her. A Hermione in love with Draco might be preserved by him, may be bolstered against burning out or being misunderstood or unseen. They’re both industrious with their respective tasks (she researches! he toils!), which lends itself to them having intellectual parity. They’re both kind of intense. Then there’s the general enemies to lovers appeal, the idea that at no point in time were these two characters ever indifferent towards each other. The banter potential alone…!

So this is some of the kind of exploration I like in fic, pressed in many different tones; ff is especially unique in that we can play around with the elements (AUs, contrived circumstances, tonal shifts, narrative beats) and be more experimental because the weight of canon grounds it.

My rec list:

Before I truly begin, I feel like I have to comment on it: I did ultimately enjoy Manacled. A "Voldemort wins" fic with a Handsmaid Tale twist; it has compelling structure, with a D/Hr dynamic suited to my tastes and what I find interesting about the characters. However, it's dark (mind the tags) and I’m still not certain if the content was handled as effectively as the author meant it to be, and so I don't think it's a universal recommendation despite its staggering popularity. If you do want to read this I would recommend downloading it because she's going to delete it off ao3 once the novelization of it comes out next year.

My quintessential dramione recommendation is, of course, The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy. It's a full Deathly Hallows rewrite where Draco goes Horcrux hunting with the trio and as far as I'm concerned, it's canon. Unlike every other fic on my list, I would recommend this to everyone. Written very closely in style to the books, I think it has universal appeal and it’s the perfect jumping off point for the pairing while being convincing. Sometimes I would find myself wishing that this was the direction the books had taken. PG-13, in terms of violence and sexual content, which I find significant enough to bring up since there’s usually a lot of sex in popular ff.

My favorite humor-based rec: Bad Omens. Written in the vein of Terry Pratchett. I would describe this as a "star-crossed morons" kind of story. It's literally perfect.

Remain Nameless. Caveat that this sort of trailed off for me once the central tension with the relationship was resolved but I think in terms of an adult redemption arc it was very sweetly done. Sometimes achingly tender.

The Fallout is probably my favorite “extended wartime” fic of all time. The intimacy in this makes me want to kms, in a good way. I'm linking to a downloadable pdf here since it's been removed off other sites.

Love in The Time of Zombie Apocalypse. Zombie outbreak AU. Strays from canon characterization but. Plot goes crazy. Complex character work. Hooked me all the way through.

Thirteenth Night. Post-war, Hermione assigned to monitor a memory-charmed Draco. Less epic than a lot of the other recs on this list because the scope of the world is small, but it’s quietly good.

This is just my plug for anything PacificRimbaud has ever written, but particularly the historical rom com Love and Other Historical Accidents, the raunchy and funny One and Done, and the tender romantic one-shot Les Pelerins.

BLOODY, SLUTTY, AND PATHETIC. Listen to me. Listen to me. The title sort of explains the tone and it carries entirely throughout. I am obsessed with this version of Draco. All men should be bloody slutty and pathetic. Post-war, ministry employee Hermione, marriage law AU (which tbh I don't tend to love usually, so this really is exceptional).

She Whom He Harbors. Ok before you read the summary/tags and judge me, yes, this is basically a "fuck or die" fic. I figured I needed to make the rec in case this is a vibe anyone is interested in pursuing. But it's not just gratuitous smut, I swear, there's a compelling plot here. Lot of orgasms. But there is a plot.

Brand New World. Epic in scope. Diverges in plot while they're still at Hogwarts. Great Draco redemption arc (which is important to me!)

The Gloriana Set. ThebeMoon is my personal queen of Hogwarts Eighth Year fics. I would also rec The Darkwood Wand, by the same author. Both very fun reads.

Things Without Remedy. Time travel! Adore the serious relationship build in this one.

Tea & Necromancy. Sort of an experimental tone. Equal parts funny and morbid.

Sucker Punch. Also would classify this as experimental; you'll know if you jive with the writing within a few paragraphs.

Choice and Chance. Absolutely delicious plot divergence at the point of Hermione's torture at Malfoy Manor. Involves multiverse elements.

Beyond Recall or Desire. If you like soulmate bonds!

Malfoy Shrugged. On the shorter side; just a great two-shot.

Tromp as Writ. While I'm recommending perfect one-shots.

Mindbound. This author has a series of very short works based on fairy tales. This one is my favorite but I'd recommend the others too.

Past / Present / Future. Barbara Kruger AND a perfect adult Draco characterization? J’adore.

My very last recommendation is something that is so important to me, but I'm separating it like this because it's a WIP whereas all the others are completed fics. Please don't let that deter you, if at all interested.

Lionheart. !!!!

What can I say about Lionheart, except that its author somehow resides in my brain and created something for me, specifically? I've really so rarely read fic that is so perfectly balanced in dialogue, character understanding, narrative arc, plotting, action—when I read this, I feel like how I felt at 11, reading Harry Potter. For real. It's a whole series rewrite, truly epic in scope, asking the question: what if Draco had been sorted into Gryffindor? Currently the storyline is complete as to book four, partially through book five, and being updated. The character work is especially stunning to me. This is the sweetest slowburn friendship-to-lovers of my dreams; obviously heavy on the friendship arc since we're not all the way through, and yet I find that my emotional investment in this is so heightened it doesn't even matter to me. I want to read thousands of words of this (luckily, it's already got 600k+ of those). Thank you greenTeacup, for my life.

I obviously have read more than this so if there are any specific tropes/interests/limitations you want a rec for, I'm open to give an opinion. Also I have my eye on a few fics that I just haven't read yet, so alas, this list is not perfectly complete. The next thing I want to read....Détraquée....

[poly-thot-one-piece-edition]

Office Hours

Cisfem!Reader x Shanks x (????)

Also on Wattpad and Ao3

Summary: If Shanks lets you stab him with your pencil you think things between you would improve.

Blame @hannahbarberra162 for this - she wrote the initial exchange between Shanks and the Reader for this first chapter, and has graciously allowed me to run away with it, cackling like the madman I am. <3

CW: Office AU, Enemies to lovers, mdni, so much swearing and even more smut.

Chapter 1: That Asshole

You had a great job.

A wonderful job!

An absolutely fantastic fucking job!

You were the head of Human Resources for a very successful company, and not only did it pay well, but it came with incredible benefits. The company had been founded by Gol D. Roger some fifty years ago, and One Piece Solutions had flourished ever since.

Eventually illness took the original owner’s life, and the company was now run by the friend of his adopted son. Benn Beckman had been best friends with Shanks since they were kids, and while there had been some concerns among people about how Shanks would take his friend being given the company over him, nothing could’ve made the boisterous red-head happier.

Shanks was COO to Beckman’s CEO, and the two worked so well together that One Piece Solutions was an international company with one of the highest ratings in both services offered, and as a place to work.

You’d think being rated one of the best places to work would make the human resources job relatively cushy.

And mostly it was.

With one notable exception, there was hardly anything to be worried about. Hiring processes, and the occasional firing or processing someone leaving the company voluntarily for any number of reasons, was about as complicated as things got. Interpersonal relationships were stable, and aside from a couple mediated scuffles a year at most, there wasn’t much in terms of stress.

And then there was “The Asshole.”

You hated this man’s very existence.

He held the record for number of complaints filed against him. You dealt with him the most, and he never seemed to give a single care. Nothing he did was enough to fire him, but if you could your job would only feel half as busy as it currently did. It wasn’t as though he was truly being protected either, while the CEO was his best friend, his impact on the company had been so lucrative, he’d almost have to blow the building up to do enough damage for it to be worth firing him.

And Shanks wouldn’t do anything like that. You might hate the man, but he wasn’t a vile man. There weren’t any rumors about him having left a bunch of little bastard babies up and down the Grand Line, and no one ever came forward to accuse him of anything hinky.

He was just, well, Shanks. Handsome, smooth, rich, well-loved, jovial, laid-back, and you were pretty sure he’d let the end of the world roll off his back.

You really just wanted to stab him with your pencil.

Speak of the devil, as that fucking asshole Shanks saunters into your office again, his legs crossing. He hands you a cup from the café just down the block. You don't know how he knows, but it's your favorite drink from there. You'll drink it after he leaves, you don't want to give him the satisfaction but also....the chai latte isn't the one giving you more work.

And since it isn’t currently comprised of 50% bourbon by volume, it’s not really going to help you with the work sitting across from you, either.

"What did I do now?" he asks with a grin. You don't return it, eyes moving from the cup to his bright expression. He always seems happy to be in your office. The less you want him there, the happier he seems.

Or he’s always got that infuriating grin on his face and it just appears brighter the less you want to see him. It’s hard to say.

"Employees caught you fucking the new secretary.” Long and Suffering hang from your words like old friends as your eyes look back to that tempting drink before you sigh. “On the copier.”

“Again." You quantify, looking back at him.

There is not the least bit of professionalism left on your face. You can’t fake a smile around Shanks at this point. It wouldn’t matter how much he paid you, what he promised you, or if he even managed to stop being the single most common item in your office aside from yourself.

No power in the whole of the universe was going to get you to smile at Shanks.

"Oh, so we need a new policy about employees staying after hours?" he asks, leaning back further in the comfortable chairs he bought for your office. He said he spent so many hours in your office already, and he wanted to have a better seat for when you gave him his spankings.

That alone was another report.

"No. We already have a policy about not fucking your employees on company property." you deadpan, handing him the report to sign.

He laughs jovially. Your eye twitches.

"Rules were meant to be broken. Maybe you could try it sometime. Might help with your stress." He says easily, signing the paper. The pencil in your hand snaps, but neither of you pay it any mind.

“I’ll take your words into consideration, sir.” You say automatically. If you argued with him he’d try and sway you to his point, and if you admitted to having done so before he’d want all the details.

You couldn’t sort out why he often seemed determined to spend more time in your office. You’d think by this point he’d be sick of being here. He even bought the fancy chairs to make it more bearable.

Setting the paper on your desk, he gives a charming smile. You envision the same smile on his face with a few of his teeth missing and it’s almost enough to make you grin.

You don’t relax until he finally leaves, sinking into your chair. He’d also bought you a nice comfy chair, and considering you sat in it for a good portion of the day, you were grateful. It had felt like a bribe on some level, but Shanks even showed you the work order - he’d had Beckman take care of the process specifically so it couldn’t be taken that way.

You knew the CEO would do a lot for his friend, but you also knew Beckman’s ethics were on a different level. If he slept around as much as Shanks, he did it in a way that left people none the wiser. He was good looking as well, if not in a different way than Shanks, but there was no way you were going to entertain those thoughts either.

Never mind that you were in your own committed relationship, but there was no way that you were going to get tangled up with someone within 7 degrees of separation to Shanks if you could help it.

Taking a sip of your drink you were irritated to find that it was at the perfect temperature. It was something else that always seemed to happen. You never had to wait for a drink to cool, and it was never cold by the time he left.

Even if he peppered you with questions, or told you about details regarding the newest incident that you did not want, nor need, to know. He still managed to leave at a point when your drink was perfect. It wasn’t that the consideration was out of character for him, Shanks was considerate, it was the way it worked out like that every time.

It did nothing but piss you off more.

He was some perfect little playboy who got away with everything, and he was still considerate, good at his job, and not an utter waste of space. He was easy to like, and if you didn’t have to deal with him as the head of HR you might actually like him. You could see being friends with him at the bare minimum.

Maybe next time you’d ask him if he’d let you stab him for the sake of becoming friends.

[virgothozul]

Has anyone used SquidgeWorld Archive ( https://squidgeworld.org/ ) to read/post fanfictions ? Apparently it's exactly like Ao3 but with a clear position against AI :

Their Terms of Service state :

7. Added May 13th, 2023: Artificial Intelligence (A.I.) generated works are not supported in the archive. The only exception to this rule would be partial only in posts that are clearly marked meta as part of discussion of said works. Otherwise, no. AI generated works are not welcomed in the archive 8. Added September 24th, 2023: Web scraping by artificial intelligence (AI), or any process of extracting data from the contents of this website for the purpose of use with artificial intelligence (AI) is strictly prohibited. Any data collection, content aggregation, or use of contents on this website in any way for training datasets or machine learning models is expressly prohibited. For more information, contact us via the “Contact Us” section of this website, or via any of the links on other Squidge.org property websites.

It sounds nice ! I love Ao3 but indeed it doesn't mention AI, simply stating that "AI generated works are allowed". So it's good that at least some fanwork websites are addressing the issue ! Hopefully Ao3 will release a clear rule against web scraping / machine learning for all posted works.

Now if you're wondering what is available right now on SqWA, I haven't checked all my favorite tags yet. If you're planning on writing something, maybe give it a go ?? So we'll have more to look forward to !