#ofmdfanfic

[agaywithcoffee]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62747278/chapters/162598417

ao3 previews are still broken 😭 pls enjoy an early update for Until Next Time! Also added a sneaky total chapter number update and updated the tags! Happy reading gay!

[twostarry]

Hi! I'm a fic writer. Not too sure the best way to get fic out there outside of people just finding it on AO3.

I am currently writing The Many Faces of Izzy Hands. It's rated E and is updating at least once, often twice or three times a week. I'm attempting to play with and subvert the usual bodyswap tropes. Contains Steddyhands content.

Izzy pisses off the wrong person in a market on a strange island and receives a strange mark for his troubles. He initially arrives back at the Revenge as his twentysomething self. But he soon learns that there's more to the curse he's been afflicted with than simply making him younger. He discovers that he has the ability to become other people, though it's difficult and hard to control. Is it actually a curse? Or is there more going on than meets the eye?

I also have two Vianton fics.

At First Bite (complete, 12k)

Anton has always had a thing for vampires, but lately he's had a crush on one vampire in particular. But supernatural politics and other relationships always got in the way of him trying to make a move. One night, at the Unholy Masquerade, the werewolf finally shoots his shot - much to the surprise of Viago.

But Anton has a few complications of his own that tie directly into werewolf politics. And why does Viago find being with Anton so...familiar?

Hair of the Dog (complete, 19.4k)

The vampire and werewolf communities in Wellington are at each others' throats again after a period of peace. They go to a witch arbiter as a last resort. But her solution is a bit more extreme than any of them ever intended.

Anton and Viago find themselves in each others' bodies and are forced to live the lives of their enemies while trying to find a way to bring peace. That's the only way they have any chance of getting their own lives back.

But Viago finds being alive again with all the senses of a werewolf to be quite intoxicating. And Anton finds his new vampiric life seductive, especially since he's unburdened from the responsibility of being packmaster. Add to that a rising attraction and appreciation for each other, and it all adds up to an interesting scenario.

[zaletwisted]

@ofmdzine HEY CREW!

This was one of my first engagement with the OFMD fandom, and I’d be remiss not to yell about it!

Preorders for the Spring Tides size (digital and physical) will be open until ✨Nov 22!✨ We currently need less than 50 more physical preorders to meet our charm stretch goal, unlocking some gorgeous loot for all! This is a two-volume beast full of art, fic, cast interviews, and more, and I couldn’t be prouder to be a part of it. 💙

[nocturneequuis]

To Let the Darkness In

That morning she asks him: “Where’s your father, Ed?”

[nocturneequuis]

Read @ A03

[downstarr]

Stroke of Midnight - An OFMD New Year's Eve AU

Stede Bonnet usually goes home to New Zealand for the Christmas season. But this year, he's decided to stay in Victoria, BC where he's been living since he came to Canada for school. At a house party thrown by expats, Stede unexpectedly runs into his teenaged crush, Edward Teach.

Stede's been struggling with loneliness and a lack of belonging, and Ed re-entering his life hits him like a ton of bricks. 10k words, complete. CW: references to child abuse and homophobia. Referred to, but not seen.

Stede Bonnet never sought out his fellow New Zealanders on purpose. Usually, his trips home to Wellington from Victoria, BC where he’d been living for the past few decades would fill his Kiwi quotient quite satisfactorily. But life circumstances and various logistics meant he hadn’t been home in several years.

Which lead him to an Anzac Day gathering at a local pub that past April, and to an invite to a New Year’s Eve house party some months later.

The house, a grand affair in Brentwood Bay just outside of the city, had a wonderful view of the inlet and the twinkling lights across the water where snow drifted in the air instead of a haze of rain. It was an unusually cold late December by Vancouver Island standards. They’d had a few inches of snow that made the steep, winding roads up to the house that weren’t designed for snow quite treacherous. It also meant that Stede dug out his winter jacket usually reserved for ski trips up-island or to the mainland. 

“Just toss it in the spare bedroom,” said Arnie, one of the two hosts for the evening as he pointed the way down a long hallway. 

“This way?”

“Yep, first door on the right,” said Arnie.

Stede nodded and held his blue puffer jacket aloft. “Cheers.” 

On his way back from the spare room where his jacket joined a growing pile on the bed, Stede slipped into the nearest bathroom and slid the barn door style door closed. It took him a few times to clasp it correctly. For a moment, he was worried he was going to throw the heavy piece of stained wood off its pretty wrought iron hinges. 

It was then that he realized that his hosts must be new money. Stede hated that snobbish part of himself, but he’d grown up with and around a lot of money. That meant he’d been to many parties at the houses of people whose wealth was gained in their own lifetime rather than inherited. 

Those people really liked barn doors. And marble countertops. And grand staircases. All of which were on display at the home of Arnie and Marlo. 

Door finally latched, Stede turned to survey his appearance. He slid a comb from his pocket and carefully rearranged his blond curls that had gotten tousled by the wind and wetted by snowflakes. He slid a hand down the fine fabric of his deep blue button-up to make sure there were no creases in the fabric. He was pleased to see that the impeccably tailored shirt highlighted the effort he’d been making at the gym the last few months.

“Now don’t look desperate,” Stede mumbled to himself. “And don’t be a peacock,” he paused, “...or too much of one.” 

The pep talk Stede was giving himself was necessary because he’d heard through rumblings that there were queer people at the party. He’d been having absolutely no luck on the dating or social scene. For a long time, he convinced himself he was bisexual, until his now-ex fiancee Mary finally helped him realize that any attraction to women was deeply forced and based on a foundation of self-delusion. 

Satisfied that he hadn’t gotten too rumpled from the trip over, Stede awkwardly pulled the impractical barn door back and stepped out into the house proper.  

Stede was no stranger to grand houses. But something about this one felt a bit much. After years away from home and the socialite scene in New Zealand, he’d forgotten how to move in posh circles. He didn’t know Arnie and Marlo very well at all. They’d only spoken a handful of times at the Fernwood Inn’s now-monthly informal expat meetups. But he had become friends with Declan Finch, who was an old friend of Arnie’s.

It was him that Stede sought out after tidying up his appearance. The house was the epitome of West Coast elegance - massive and A-frame with a staircase leading to the upper level, but with the kitchen, dining, and living areas offering views of the ink-black inlet below. Like the bathroom door, Stede found himself picking out various nouveau-riche touches that took the shine of the classiness. 

“It’s a lot more impressive in the daytime. Well, I mean, it’s impressive anytime. But less so in the dark,” said Declan as he appeared beside Stede with a beer.

“Ah, cheers! I was just coming to find you. This place is…” Stede paused as he tried to articulate his admiration at the style and grandeur of the place with the details his upper-crust self found tacky, “...quite something.”  said Stede as he took the beer. 

Declan grinned, “Mhmm,” Then he leaned in, “...I find it a bit magazine-y, m’self. But I don’t want to be a dick, so I hold my tongue. “ The other Kiwi was tall, with a mop of dark hair, strong features, black glasses, and a gap between his front teeth. He suspected the man might have a crush on him, which he didn’t reciprocate. He liked Declan well enough, but not as more than a friend. But they’d never had a conversation about the limits of their relationship. Stede felt it coming, and he feared the awkwardness and the potentially broken friendship that would follow.

For the moment though, the two men were still friends. 

“I appreciate the invite, by the way,” said Stede, finally.

“You look a little shell-shocked,” said Declan with a teasing lilt as he leaned in towards Stede. “I thought you came from richie riches. So this would be normal for you.”

“Came from, yes,” said Stede, eyebrows arching as he gestured with his beer. “But things have been strained with my family for years. I was supposed to go home after school, you see. But instead I stuck around. It was expected that I go home and do the whole Wellington society thing, but it wasn’t for me. So it’s been a long time since I’ve made a habit of being in houses like this,” he said as he gestured around.

“Well, they come by it honestly. Marlo’s an architect who made her own way. And Arnie’s…”

“...a marketing or social media guy?”

Declan grinned, putting the tooth gap on display, “Marketing manager for a bunch of restaurants.”

“I recognize a few people from the meet-ups. Are they mostly expats?” asked Stede as he gestured around the room. He exchanged a few nods or smiles with the people he knew. As he did, he caught sight of someone with long gray hair who turned away just as he was about to get a good look at him. 

“Not all of them. Some are work friends and stuff. To tell you the truth,” Declan leaned in towards Stede, “I don’t recognize a bunch of them. I think some of them are other parents at their daughter’s school, or work people. But Marlo likes to collect people from home. Says it helps keep her grounded.”  He swatted at Stede’s shoulder and motioned towards the kitchen where most of the people were retrieving drinks or snacking from the impressive spread laid out on the kitchen island, “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to some people.” 

Stede took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “All right.”

Then Stede did what he’d been doing all his life. He slipped on a mask of cheery confidence. As Declan introduced him around, he made friendly conversation and learned how each of the people he was introduced to knew their hosts. 

They were all nice enough, but from what Stede could tell, they all were straight, or at least in straight-passing relationships. As he met more and more people, he began to feel the heteronormativity of the room wash over him. That sensation, along with the conspicuous touches of magazine-glossy wealth began to wear him down and churn more of his loneliness to the surface. He began to think he was the only queer person in the room aside from Declan, and he wasn’t even sure about him. 

No one Stede spoke to would have any hint of his growing discomfort or disappointment. He was an expert at deceiving others about his own happiness, and continued to chirp friendly conversation and tell bad  but charming jokes. 

He’d always made acquaintances easily, but friendship, let alone something greater, had been evading him since his split from Mary. He hadn’t figured how to transition into queer social circles from the primarily straight ones he’d moved in before now. Drag shows and gay bars only introduced him to people he had little in common with aside from queerness, and many were often younger than him. 

Stede was hungry to meet people his age, who preferred pub trivia or a wine tasting over club nights and casual sex. He knew those people existed, but he had no idea how to go about finding them. He’d hoped the party would be a way to find those people, but so far he was just feeling how he always felt - like an imposter wearing a veil of straightness that he had to fight to keep from slipping clean off.

After a while, the effort to keep it up began to exhaust Stede, and he politely excused himself from a conversation with Naomi and Brett, a perfectly nice, but painfully straight couple who had spent the past thirty minutes talking about the psychological effect of paint colours in nurseries while both kept touching Naomi’s pregnant belly.  

For Stede, who’d spent almost every Christmas season of his life mired in the default straightness of the Wellington social scene, it was a special kind of torture.

He needed another drink.

Stede made his way to a giant, trendy cooler laden with craft beer and cider. He pawed through until he found a cider he’d had before. For that moment, he let the mask slip and he stared for a moment off into the middle distance, gaze fixing for a moment at another one of those impractical barn doors next to a wall that looked like it was set up specifically for Instagram selfies. 

He looked at his watch.

It was only ten. At least two hours before Stede could excuse himself. After all, why would he leave a New Year’s Eve party before midnight? 

He took a couple of hungry gulps of the cider, then took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, closed his eyes, and willed the mask of chirpy conformity to slip back over his face.

“Stede?” came a voice mid-way through this meditative exercise.

Stede turned, confused by his name in an unfamiliar voice. 

The man he saw caused Stede’s throat to clench and a shudder to slip down his spine. He was grateful for long sleeves, because they hid the cascade of goosebumps that raised every hair on his arms and his chest. He felt a flush of warmth dappling his cheeks, and he hoped that this man would just think it was the alcohol.

“Ah, yes?” Stede croaked.

The stranger was tall, warm-skinned, with a cascade of gray hair with streaks of black. He had a short gray beard and the sides of his hair were pulled back in a haphazard fashion. He’d either not expected the buttoned-up and date-night-dressy vibe of the party or he’d chosen to ignore it, because he wore low-slung moto jeans and a loose black t-shirt with a ragged hem. The shirt displayed arms covered in black tattoos. He wore a diamond stud in one ear with hoops higher up, and a necklace with a chunk of polished hematite. His eyes were deep and dark - chocolate brown and full of winking warmth. 

“I thought that was you,” rumbled the stranger.

Stede took a closer look, head canting, brow furrowing. Surely if he knew this man, he’d remember. He made every queer little synapse in his brain fire off happy chemicals.

Bit by bit, Stede started to piece it together. He mentally replaced gray hair with black, and removed the beard from his face. Then he peeled back the years and spun his memory back to Wellington. “Ed?” he breathed after an incredulous moment. “Edward Teach?”

Ed smiled and then chuckled. “Ah, yeah, it’s me. Fuck. What a coincidence.” 

Aside from breathing Ed’s name, Stede was at a loss for words. Here, thousands of kilometers away and decades later, he found himself staring into the eyes of his teenage crush.

Continue reading on AO3

[albuscreates]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42183840 it’s my second installment of my Steddyhands endgame fic! Get ready y’all it’s only going to get spicier from here. #steddyhands #steddyhandsendgame #ofmdfanfiction #ofmdfanfic #ao3fanfic #stizzy https://www.instagram.com/p/CjXMsvUuIGI/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[murdocsagaypirate]

Hello friends. I have posted more. Prepare to be sad. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40520775/chapters/102967110