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@elflinginthevoid
ICYMI, there was fear that companies were scraping public AO3 fics to train their AI without the consent of AO3 or its users. That fear has been confirmed.
AO3 has written about what they’re doing (and what they’re not able to do), and they recommend restricting your work to AO3 registered users only. [Instructions here]
This gross misuse of the archive by techbros is why I’ve locked down my fics for the foreseeable future. I recommend the rest of you do the same.
@lordoftherazzles made a quick guide for ao3 authors to lock all their works at once for registered users only here!
Someone recently messaged me worried I’d deleted all my fic - it’s all still there, it’s just locked to A03 because of this and other skimming instances.
Please note that many fanfic authors are locking their stories so that they are only accessible to registered Ao3 users.
They’re still there at Ao3. The authors have made this choice to protect their work from misuse/AI scanning.
Imagine being kidnapped and Sebastian saving you.
You are disoriented. You know you are lying on the ground. You know you are not alone. Someone quietly sobs. It’s your neighbour! You approach her and try to talk to her. But she just mumbles, that there can be two of you, and that she is next. She is terrified. You hear steps, and look around in panic. When you don’t find a satisfactory weapon, you grab a chair and swing it towards the door, as they open. The figure stumbles and grabs at you, wanting to hurt you. They are quickly yanked from you, into another room. You can hear scream and then silence. Sebastian walks back in. His hair are ruffled, and you are pretty sure that's blood on the corner of his mouth. He approaches you, smirking. “My, you were right about who it was. And you’ve got quite strong arm,” he puts a finger below your chin, “you’ve knocked out some of his teeth. I am impressed.” You yank your head away and beckon your neighbour to get up. “And you are late!” you say, walking away. He looks after you. He won’t be seeing you for the last time. He knows. He hopes.
Imagine helping Sebastian solve a case.
You would get in his way pretty often while searching the city. He would love to get rid of you, but you, you had valuable information and he had to let you go. Then you ran into him again. And again. You would have to join forces together, eventually. The plan was, you would act as a decoy. You walked by the river, early in the morning. Sebastian was nearby. You didn't expect it to be successful on first try. As you are walking by a tree, hand wraps around your torso, other pressing on your face with damp cloth. You fall to the ground like a rag doll and, still kind of conscious, you hear the person softly singing an old lullaby.
Imagine investigating a serious case of missing people.
You are not an employee of Scotland Yard or anything of that short. You have completely a normal day job. But for a few weeks you’ve heard of people disappearing, early in the morning on the banks of Thames. It’s in every papers. The breaking point is when your lovely neighbour doesn’t arrive to work one morning and is missing since. You go to streets, ask people questions, search for clues. And you are actually making some progress! One day, you decide to hang around the river, early in the morning. You try to stay in the shadows, scanning every person that goes by. They are mostly walking in groups. Suddenly, someone pushes you roughly against the brick wall. Tall, dark figure is in front of you. “My, my, what do we have here?”
Imagine you are staying in hotel in London, due to work meetings you have to attend to.
You notice another guest is always sitting alone in the dining room, not interacting with anyone. You feel sorry, and as they seem like an nice enough person, you go introduce yourself and strike a conversation. After you sit next to them and speak up, much to your horror, they say: “You can see me?” - their voice pinching up as they start to laugh hysterically.
You: How high are you
Undertaker:*absolutely stoned* I’m not high, you’re just short.
cinderella marries the prince
and it’s… fine. The prince is great! They’re in love, he’s very sweet and passionate, writing her poems and songs, giving her anything she wants. The time she spends with her husband is great.
but cinderella is not royalty, her family was noble but she never spent time in those circles. She’s used to being busy, she’s used to cooking and cleaning and mending. There are hours, days, where she has nothing to do.
time passes. cinderella learns the fancy lady type of needlework. Learns to ride horses. Reads a lot.
as is normal for royalty at the time, they travel and are hosted by nobles or stay at castles owned by the king. But even that variety begins to become routine. The prince is distracted, there’s a lot of young women living and working on their route. Daughters of nobles. Younger and prettier with soft hands that have never done a day’s work.
cinderella needs something to spend her time on, and there’s a part of her thinking a couple-only trip might get her husband’s attention again, so she suggests making an old castle that’s fallen into disrepair their “project.” It was built in the time when castles were made to be defensible, so it’s quite sturdy, but it’s overgrown and secluded. The prince doesn’t know why his family stopped living there either. A hundred years ago it was their summer home.
so they go. And they work. And for a while it’s great! But when they leave for winter cinderella’s husband forgets her once again. cinderella resolves to make the best of her life and stop worrying about a man who has gotten what he wanted from her.
summer comes again and this time cinderella goes alone to the old castle (minus staff, of course, but cinderella manages to narrow it down to only repair workers and one maid). She can cook and clean and mend again, but this time it’s her own choice. She is happy.
this summer they make more progress on repairs. The workers say that most of it can be salvaged, except one tower that’s been completely overgrown with vines and briars. It will have to come down, eventually, but for now it can be safely ignored.
cinderella has more free time now. The old castle has a surprisingly untouched library, though time and moisture have damaged many of the books. Behind a collection of greek poetry cinderella finds an old diary. Very old, in fact, at least a hundred years. It’s rude to read a diary, of course, but whoever wrote this is long dead, and cinderella is bored, so…
from the description of activities the author looks to have been nobility. Maybe even a princess. She’s sensitive and sweet and smarter than she seems to realize. If circumstances had been different cinderella wishes they could have been friends…
after the summer ends cinderella returns to her husband. He’s spending a lot of time with a young musician and cinderella can’t even work up the energy to care. She does some research about the castle and the family she’s married into, finds out the name of the princess who wrote the diary.
aurora. Cursed and forgotten. She died young, they say, in a plague that also took out the castle staff and her own parents. Luckily they avoided a succession crisis, but not so lucky for the dead.
time passes. cinderella goes to the old castle again and again, even out of season. Soon enough all that remains to be done is the old tower, and the builders say they should tear it down and fill the gaps before it gets cold.
one night cinderella is restless. The princess from the diary had been fond of that tower, and cinderella is far more attached to a dead woman than she ought to be. She gets out of bed, reads by candlelight, and finally goes to walk the empty halls.
she finds herself going to the tower. Pushing past the vines that don’t seem so troublesome really. They almost part before her. The stairs are perfectly intact, the door at the top is already cracked open. As if she should have done this years ago, cinderella steps into aurora’s bedroom.
she’s as beautiful as the stories say. And sitting under her hands, crossed across her stomach as it rises and falls, is a book of greek poetry.
years later, people will tell the story of cinderella as a cautionary one. Don’t seek above your station. Don’t marry for prestige. After all, a girl who grew up as a servant once married the crown prince, and disappeared after only three years. She ran away, they say, she couldn’t handle the lifestyle.
two old women who run a bookshop together agree with the lesson. Marrying for the wrong reasons never ends well. It’s best to wait for someone you have things in common with, shared interests.
or, failing that, the more linguistic of the two says, wait a decade or ten for someone to fall in love with you from your diary.
her partner laughs and hits her with the socks she is mending.
Story time!
Me: “How can I help you today, ma'am?” Client: “Is e-mail internet”? Me: “I beg your pardon?” Client: “Is e-mail on the internet? I have no internet, can I still read my e-mail?” Me: “Well yes, you must be able to get online to view your e-mail.” Client: “Oh, dear. I can’t see my e-mail.” Me: “Well, let’s see. Can you open up Internet Explorer for me and tell me what you see?” Client: “Open what?” Me: “Your browser, can you open up your browser?” Client: “My…my…?” Me: “What you click on when you want to browse the internet?” Client: “I don’t use anything, I just turn my computer on, and it’s there.” Me: “Okay. Do you see the little blue ‘e’ icon on your desktop?” Client: “You mean I have to start writing letters again?” Me: “I’m…what, I’m sorry?” Client: “I don’t have any pens at my desk. I just want my e-mail again.” Me: “No, ma'am, your desktop, on your computer screen. Can you click on the little blue ‘e’ on your computer screen for me?” Client: “Oh, this is too much work. I’m too upset. Just send me my e-mail. Can’t you send me my e-mail?” Me: “We…okay, ma'am. Can you tell me what color the lights are on your router right now?” Client: “My what?” Me: “The little box with green or possibly a couple of red lights on it right now - it’s most likely near your computer?”
Client: “Lights and boxes, boxes and lights, just get my e-mail for me.
Me: “My test is showing that you should be able to get online right now. Can you tell me what you’re seeing on your computer screen?” Client: “It’s been the same thing for the last two hours.” Me: “An error message?” Client: “No, just stars. It’s black and moving stars.” Me: “…Do you see your mouse next to your keyboard?” Client: “Yes.”
Me: “Move it for me.” Client: “Move it?” Me: “Yes. Move it.” Client: “My e-mail!”
This post gave me a fucking ulcer.
“The "Best Related Work” award recognizes works in the fields of science fiction, fantasy, or fandom that do not fit into the other Hugo categories. AO3’s continual evolution makes it eligible for this annual award. “
Like on one hand I totally get it, but on the other hand I think of some of the fics I’ve read (and posted) being "Hugo nominees” and I laugh so hard my spirit leaves my body.
via @rfarrowster on Twitter.
“The "Best Related Work” award recognizes works in the fields of science fiction, fantasy, or fandom that do not fit into the other Hugo categories. AO3’s continual evolution makes it eligible for this annual award. “
Like on one hand I totally get it, but on the other hand I think of some of the fics I’ve read (and posted) being "Hugo nominees” and I laugh so hard my spirit leaves my body.
via @rfarrowster on Twitter.
Imagine being one of the newer reapers and being sent to the forensic department as an assistant.
You are working with Othello, handing him various tools and performing some minor tests. You are working with a body of a person who committed suicide, but didn’t end up as a grim reaper, which is an extreme case and it must be solved instantly. It takes a couple of days to examine the body and meanwhile, you start noticing these little things Othello does. He hums some ancient song exclusively when he is using a microscope, or talks to the person on the table when he is working on their head and tugs on his hair when he is deep in thought. However weird, you still find some of these things cute and long to form a friendship/relationship with him.
After you find out that the death was actually very clever murder and work of demonic being, the case is over for you as another department is assigned to hunt down the demon and you’re reassigned to another department that needs help. However, you still run into Othello quite often and occasionally chat for a moment. And one day, you gather all the courage you have and ask him if he wants to go to coffee with you someday. He cheerfully agrees.
“See you tomorrow, at 2 o'clock!”
Imagine seeing Grelle for the first time.
You see her in the middle of a very busy street. The red hair, coat, cute glasses- you're hooked. Also, you are in lots of trouble, when you can see a grim reaper. Which you realize, when you see her pull out a chainsaw and cut through the body of a man who just fell on the ground. Feeling someone glaring at her, she turns to you, leaves the saw stabbed in the body and begins to approach you.
Undertaker
Imagine sneaking into Grim Reaper’s headquarters with Undertaker.
You play with the pink bookmark and pen. But you don’t do anything sinister, or funny. You pick random people’s books and write a random happy event into it. Undertaker sets raining cloud over dry plants, a cat/dog running to people for a cuddle. You drop money into shoes they’re about to put on and let a bunch of fireflies appear in front of their windows. Both of you spend the whole evening there until William finds out and kick’s you out.
Undertaker
Maserlist?
Just wrote for Undertaker so far
Sad
Be safe
You light my fire
Tiny surprise