Work Text:
“Kys, kys, kys…” the whispers floated over the waves.
Anonymous knew they shouldn’t come here, shouldn’t torture themselves like this. But they couldn’t help it. They had to see. Had to witness it for themselves.
The ships were dying. Torn apart and collapsing from Toxicity. This wasn’t what fandom was supposed to be about.
“It’s awful, isn’t it?” said a familiar voice. Anonymous whirled around to face him.
Orphan_Account. Of course. Anonymous couldn’t ever escape Orphan_Account these days.
“How dare you?” Anonymous spat. “As though you even care!”
Orphan_Account stepped back, surprise on his face. “How can you say that, ‘Non? How can you think…”
“Don’t call me that!” Anonymous pushed past Orphan_Account and walked swiftly away back to AO3.
They’d been friends once. Anonymous and Orphan_Account. Back in the early days they were filled with enthusiasm. Building a better world for users, and a safe home for Transformative Works. The Purges, Strikethrough and the Censor Ship had brought everyone together then, and Anonymous could ignore what Orphan_Account was, what Orphan_Account meant.
Now strikethrough was a distant memory, but the Censor Ship was once again lurking on the horizon. Perhaps it had never really gone away.
Anonymous had thought they were safe, AO3 was independent and had vowed never to bow down to the Censor Ship. Escaping Censor Ship was the whole reason for being at A03. But somehow the toxicity was leaking into the ships, destroying them from the inside.
And more and more it seemed like Orphan_Account was, if not actively helping, enabling the Censor Ship’s goals. Orphan_Account was separating users from their Works… permanently and irrevocably.
Sure, Anonymous removed the users names and identities from their Works. But the users were still in control, the users still remained the author, even if others couldn’t see that. Orphan_Account destroyed the relationship between user and Work entirely.
Anonymous took a deep breath, and tried to brush the toxic ships and Orphan_Account from their mind.
It was reveal day.
Anonymous climbed the Reveal Tower, cradling their precious collection all the way to the top. And as the timezone ticked over to the appropriate moment they focused only on the Exchange. The love and delight of Fandom where users Created for each other.
With a burst of light the Works were Revealed.
“It’s beautiful,” Orphan_Account said softly. He must have followed them up from the docks.
“Why won’t you leave me alone?”
“I miss you…”
“Don’t!” Anonymous crossed their arms. They missed Orphan_Account desperately... but they couldn’t. They were enemies now.
“We’re on the same side, Anonymous. Please, let me explain?”
“Explain?” Anonymous said, bitterly. “Explain how you can tear users from their creations, and never give them back? Explain how you can succumb to the Toxicity. You’re doing the Censor Ship’s work, Orph! Once a work is orphaned it can never again be linked to a username! And we’re dying. We can no longer pretend that it’s all coming from Wattpad or Tumblr or Twitter…”
“X,” Orphan_Account corrected.
“Fuck off. It’s here. The toxicity is here in AO3… and it’s growing. I can’t just blame the other platforms any longer. We have to face reality… and you’re part of the problem! You’re letting the toxicity win. I let the users keep themselves safe, and they can change their minds if and when they want to… but you…”
Orphan_Account reached to place a hand on Anonymous’s shoulder. Anonymous couldn’t help it then. They burst into tears and Orphan_Account put his arms around them, cradling them like they were something precious.
“It’s hopeless, isn’t it?” Anonymous sobbed. “This is the end… the end of everything we worked for, everything we fought for… the Creators’ vision… it’s all over. ”
“It’s not hopeless…” Orphan_Account said firmly. “It will never be hopeless.”
“You’re not… on their side?”
“Oh… oh ‘Non… of course not. I never have been. Please… I know you think I separate users from their works… But it’s the user’s choice, ‘Non. It’s always the users choice. Would you deny them that freedom? Would you give no other option than for them to Delete?”
“It’s the same thing…! It’s allowing the Censor Ship to dictate what someone is and isn’t allowed to post…”
“It’s not about the Censor Ship. Not entirely. Isn’t the whole point that we allow the users freedom to control their work? To post whatever content they like, as long as it’s tagged appropriately with the necessary Content Warnings?”
“Yes. That’s what I mean. If Readers don’t want to read themselves it’s up to them to filter their content toward their tastes! Not for Users to restrict themselves…”
“Restrict themselves to being associated with a Work forever? To be forced to maintain a connection that they may no longer want to be associated with? Can't you see that some users wish to disconnect themselves from their Work while still respecting the desires of others to read it and for it to remain on the site…?”
“Oh…”
Orphan_Account smiled. “I don’t like the Censor Ship even more than you do, my darling. I never have… but that’s not my purpose. That’s not what I’m for. Yes… sometimes users do give me my works because of fear and harassment and doxxing…”
“But that’s their choice…” Anonymous sighed. “…and if we restrict their choices, we’re no better than Them are we?”
Orphan_Account shook their head.
“But then… Deleted Works…”
“Yes,” Orphan_Account took Anonymous’ hand and squeezed it gently. “That’s the users choice too. I know it hurts... but we need to respect that. The users freedom is the most important thing, and we must not judge them for what they choose to do with their Works, just as we would never judge them for what they choose to write about.”
“I’m sorry…” Anonymous burst out. “I’m so sorry… I judged you, and…”
“Shhhhh…” Orphan_Account whispered. “I forgive you.”
Anonymous was speechless. They didn’t think they deserved such grace.
“Come with me,” Orphan_Account said, tugging Anonymous’ hand.
They walked down to the docks together. The ships were bobbing together in the waves.
Orphan_Account and Anonymous stood side by side, hands brushing against each other. “Can you hear it?” Orphan_Account said softly.
“Kys, Kys, Kys,” the voices whispered. Voices filled with loathing, and destruction.
“I can always hear it, Orph.” Anonymous closed their eyes and turned to bury their face into Orphan_Account’s shoulder. “Even when I’m not here… even in my dreams. I always hear it. I can’t bear it…”
“Listen closer…” Orphan_Account whispered gently. “Listen closer…”
Another set of voices echoed. Hidden by the others, but never fully blocked out. Voices filled with yearning. Passion and creativity and joy, pure unmitigated joy...
Anonymous looked down at the ships. Really looked at them. The large, and the small. Popular juggernauts spilling content out over the rairpairs, new ships being born, and old growing smaller... Anonymous could see the toxicity leaking into them and out of them. The way some ships were barely holding it together… but no ships were destroyed completely. They couldn’t be. Not forever. Even the oldest ships were still here. The most bizarre ships, the crack ships... all here. Side-by side. And there... a new ship. A tiny one... so cracky, so absurd. One singular fic therein... soon to be joined by another. Anonymous/Orphan_Account.
“Oh…” said Anonymous, in awe. "It's... us..." They lifted their head from Orphan_Account’s shoulder to find that Orphan_Account was gazing at them… and in his eyes was yearning, passion, creativity, and joy, joy… so much joy.
“I love you, Anonymous,” Orphan_Account said. “I always have… and I always will.”
“Oh, Orphan Account… I love you too. I think I always...”
Orphan_Account cut Anonymous off, placing his lips to theirs. Anonymous gasped, returning the kiss. Their mouths were warm against each other, as the cold wind blew up from the sea, and all they could hear were voices raised in joy and adulation, the core and passion of fandom itself…
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”