Pretty good. I’m looking forward to what you make next!
Summary: LORE Rekindled Oneshot, canon complacent, takes place after ep 70, in which a confused Minthe opens the door to none other than Persephone.
Word Count: 2.9K
Warnings: swearing, references to violence, lots of smoking A/N: So, I’ve never posted fanfiction before, but I’m a huge fan of @genericpuff’s LORE Rekindled series and while showering, this oneshot popped into my head. And it hasn’t left. So after a lot of editing and rereads, here it is. I have never smoked a cigarette in my life so everything in this is an educated guess. I hope I did these awesome characters justice. @1theneighborhoodcoffeeaddict1
Minthe angerly paced the length of the swimming pool, wet red hair swinging behind her. He was late. Hades’s little family reunion, which usually took three or four hours, had him gone for ten. She slowly inhaled a searing breath of nicotine before putting out the stub against an expensive flower pot.
What the fuck could he be doing? Was Zeus keeping him out there? Sometimes he brought the king of the gods home, smelling like wine and ozone, too ashamed to crawl back to his palace. She’d have to avoid her favorite living room if that’s who Hades returned with, lest she be accosted by Zeus. At least Hades didn’t bring his sister-in-law around anymore. When he’d invited her over that rainy night, she’d finally told him how much it hurt that he constantly invited that bitch into their home. And Hades had listened. Baby steps.
Minthe’s fingers shook lifting the lighter to her mouth. Her reflection in the pool water was nothing but a smudge of frantic red, framed by cream pink flowers.
Without thinking, Minthe spun around and lifted the lighter to the potted plants. Of course her fucking boyfriend put pink flowers where he relieved all his stress. Her fucking boyfriend, not Kore, Persephone, whatever. Hades was her boyfriend.
She couldn’t have him.
The flowers smoldered, red flames tall in the air. For one glorious moment, the toxicity and violence of the action lifted her up to an ambrosial high-and she didn’t even do that shit. Then like a meteor, she landed back in reality and the gravity of her consequences tugged the skin tight around her bones.
Hades was going to yell at her. Minthe clenched a cigarette tight in her finger. She would yell back. Her teeth practically bit into the end of it. He would ask her why. The heat burned her mouth. She would ask him why he’d been late. Her lungs choked on the toxic smoke. He’d tell her to answer his question.Minthe sputtered on the exhale. She’d tell him to go to hell. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. He’d say he always already there.
It would be the stupid argument to end all stupid arguments, even worst than the time he’d dumped her over a tube of lipstick. And just like that, Minthe could see the ashes of her relationship slipping through her fingers like burning flower petals.
This is your fault. The voice sounded like Hera’s, predicting the words the goddess would hiss next time they met. You could’ve waited. He wouldn’t have yelled if you had just waited.
She didn’t need the queen of the gods rubbing in her mistakes like she was a steak on Tartarus’ Tavern. Minthe took another long drag of her cigarette, and briefly, everything seemed quiet. But another voice joined, smooth and sweet-
I would’ve waited.
The cigarette landed on the tile with a wet splat. Minthe dragged her ash covered fingers through her hair, the wisps of a scream escaping through clenched teeth. These moments made her feel like a bomb. Each new voice criticizing her-from the rulers of this very realm to judgey Fatesbook users-was like another spark to the fuse. Eventually, one would catch.
Minthe would look like a complete bitch. Everyone would leave her. She’d be left behind to slowly pick up the pieces of herself and an apology for shit she didn’t do would be expected in three to five business days.
When did her life get so predictable?
When the knock came, Minthe ignored it. Hades always came through the garage. It was probably just some sleazy minor deity, come to shake a business deal out of the god of wealth. She’d leave them to their own impatience.
It wasn’t until Cerberus bolted past her for the door that Minthe got up to let him in. Worry twisted her empty stomach. If he wasn’t letting himself in, something bad must’ve happened. The triple heads of anxiety, regret, and defensiveness reared within her.
Cerberus whined, pushing his noses against the base of the entrance. Minthe gave him a soothing pat before opening the door. She expected to see Hades, bruised and bloody.
She did not expect to see Persephone on the door step, clad in a beautiful white dress with delicate butterflies perched in her hair.
Minthe immediately moved to close the door, sure this was a nightmare. To her horror, Cerberus pushed the door open with one head and greeted Persephone with his other two.
Persephone softly cooed to the dog, scratching behind his ears, while Minthe stood there in shock. Anger was forming like lightning in her blood. Professional relationship her ass, Persephone was on Hades’s doorstep, dressed to the nines, while petting his dog like she’d known Cerberus his entire life. This was clearly not the first time she’d stopped by, judging from the way Cerberus eagerly leaned into her touch.
Panic overtook every emotion in her body. The cold, cruel realization that she was being replaced froze her in place. After everything she’d done, all that she had put in and worked on, and she was losing to a saccharine pink, organic sugar, goddess of gardens.
No. No, she wouldn’t be replaced. She had done too much for that son of a bitch to be pushed aside for Persephone.
“Hades isn’t home.” Minthe said slowly, lacing each word with venom. “You missed him.”
“I know.” Her voice was annoyingly perfect, just like everything about her. Somewhere between godly loud and mortal high. A stupid combination of good attributes. “I came to pick something up.”
Yeah fucking right. Minthe had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep the words from escaping. “What are you looking for?”
“My mother’s brooch.”
“Why would Hades have your mother’s brooch?” Minthe tried not to seethe but honestly. They’d known each other for a few months and he was holding on to her family heirlooms? Hades could be intense but she’d never seen him be so invested. It pissed her off.
“I was wearing it the day of my interview.” Persephone replied, eyes finally lifting to meet her own. “I lost it during my foray into Tower Four.”
Oh. That’s why she was here. Despite the truce they’d made, Persephone obviously had her doubts with Minthe, just like she had for her. Only she didn’t have a good lie for showing up to her house with an excuse to snoop.
Minthe stood back, opening the door for Persephone to step through. “I suppose you don’t want my directions.” She bit out.
“No, I don’t.” Persephone admitted, briefly cocking her head to study Hades’s grand atrium. It was certainly a sight to behold with its carved marble and pristine tiles but surely nothing that a goddess like her hadn’t seen before. “He said he brought it into the lounge.”
Minthe followed Persephone with no amount of subtly. She paid her no mind, only looking in her direction when Cerberus brushed against her legs. Her eyes widened at the sight of a burning pot of plants but Minthe hissed, “Don’t even think about it,” before she could remark. Wisely, Persephone didn’t.
Minthe scrutinized her, trying to understand what the hell Hades saw in her. A goddess with large tits and an acceptable face, there were hundreds of those. There had to be something past looks that drew him in-right? Persephone’s pink hair was longer than usual, almost to her feet and tinged with a green that was clearly magic, not box dye. “You might want to get a hair cut before work tomorrow.”
“It doesn’t matter. Tomorrow’s my last day.”
The words came with such finality that Minthe had to wait to make sure they were real. Hard working, humble, studious Persephone was quitting her first non-nepotism job? She had to tamp down a few overly excited questions as Persephone explained. Though Minthe didn’t miss the way her dirt covered fingers curled into fists.
“Hera invited me to her home to do some gardening today,” Of course Persephone was chummy with Hera. Why the hell shouldn’t she be? “But some uninvited, very intoxicated guests showed up.”
“Hades and his brothers.”
Persephone snorted. They were walking side by side through the dark halls but Minthe could see the frustration and rage lining the goddess’s features. She didn’t want to admit that she hadn’t been this afraid since they striked their truce, blood red eyes glaring down at her.
“Poseidon and Zeus had to carry him between themselves. Dio knocked him unconscious.”
Dionysus as well. Was there anyone in the Olympian family not eating out of this woman’s very palm? Hermes had lied to her, her best friend and boyfriend were the twins, and even Hecate defended her. Persephone was just that damn perfect.
Minthe bit back her own jabs to ask, “Why the hell did Dionysus knock my boyfriend unconscious?” She wasn’t going to drink wine for the next ten years out of spite.
“I don’t know. He was pretty disoriented when he woke up and we didn’t get to talk much during dinner because Hera and Zeus were-”
“Arguing?”
“Zeus said one thing about the food and Hera took it personally.”
Minthe rolled her eyes. “Not a fan.”
“He’s my creator.” Minthe felt herself go into cardiac arrest. But Persephone winked in what she could only guess was an attempt to be reassuring. “But I wasn’t impressed either. For a king, he’s terrible at first impressions.”
“He’s also bad at talking to anyone he doesn’t want to fuck.” Minthe muttered. Persephone looked like she was wanted to smile through her disgust.
“I went to the garden to escape them and Hades followed.” Persephone paused in the entrance of the lounge. She seemed to be staring at the stuffed chimera head on the wall. “I asked him why he’s been giving me the cold shoulder at work.”
Minthe had been wondering that too though she’d chalked it up to Hades getting his shit together, taking the hint on how much it bothered her, or both. “What did he say?”
“That he wanted to be professional.”
Thank Gaea, he was listening. Persephone settled into one of the arm chairs, the crystalline flower brooch clutched in her fingers. Minthe hovered over her shoulder, impatience tainting her voice. “And?”
“I broke down by telling him that I’ve been stressed out by work and not having the brooch all week. Hades told me he was sorry.” Of course, both things Minthe had done to try and get Persephone out of Underworld Co had brought them closer together. “But then I told him about my friend Alex blocking and ghosting me and he got this . . . I’ve never seen that look on him before.”
Minthe’s curiosity was morbidly piqued. A deep instinct told her what the god of the dead had done, as he loved to do, but another wanted to know exactly what her boyfriend had done to scare her off. “What did he say?”
Persephone was quiet for a long time before she spoke. It was only because Minthe was intimately familiar with the sound that she recognized the goddess was holding back tears. “Hades ripped out Alex’s left eye.”
This time the words flew out of her mouth without forethought. “What the fuck?”
A quiet sob broke out of Persephone. Through pink, shimmering tears, she told Minthe the story from the morning after the Panatheana to Persephone’s reaction just hours ago. Which was to bury Hades with a newly grown tree and storm out without another word.
“I wasn’t leaving without my brooch.” Persephone finished, shoulders slumped. “I’m taking this, turning in my badges tomorrow, and I’ll never be in your life again.”
It sounded like an apology which pissed Minthe off. She didn’t need sympathy. “Don’t sound so sentimental, Pinkie.”
Persephone crossed her arms, sniffing softly. “I thought he was my friend.”
No, no, they were not doing this. They were not going to braid each other’s hair and bitch over boyfriends when Minthe still had one. Hades and her were miserable together. There was no one else for them. If Persephone couldn’t handle a little darkness, she could leave. Nobody was keeping her here.
“And now?” Minthe needed to hear, for her own reassurance.
“A part of me still cares for him.”
Well of course she did. This was lollipop sweet Persephone. “And the other part?”
“Wants to punch him in the face again.”
“Again?”
Persephone nodded down the hall. “I reacted a little strongly to his presence when I first woke up here.”
Minthe smiled bitterly. “I won’t stop you.”
Persephone smiled back, fingers reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. Minthe jerked back and Persephone smiled apologetically. “Thank you, Minthe. This month has probably been really hard for you. You’re such a patient person.”
She blinked. She didn’t get thanked often and she shook off the warm feeling of appreciation that surged through her at the praise. Minthe had to be the one person who was immune to her charms. “You’re welcome, Persephone.”
The goddess stared blankly at her. “Kore.”
“What?”
“You can call me Kore.”
One non-hostile conversation had apparently leveled Minthe up to being able to call her the maiden instead of the bringer of death. “Do you want me to call you a psychopomp?”
“No, I’ll fly home.” Right. Gods didn’t need transportation, they were transportation. As Kore got up, Cerberus happily trailing behind her, she turned around. “I understand if it’s personal, but I am the daughter of Demeter and she taught me to never come in empty handed . . . But I did. Is there anything I can give you in return for welcoming me into your home?”
Minthe had never been a stickler for tradition but she couldn’t really object to a goddess. “Well, what were you thinking of?”
“Those flowers?” Kore adjusted the brooch on the collar of her dress. “It’ll only take a second, I swear.”
Minthe found herself agreeing, telling herself it was only because it was better to erase the problem, even if it was Kore doing’s. But she’d underestimated how much of a mess she left. Shame licked a hot streak up her neck and arms as Kore took in the cigarette butts and lighters. Of course, she didn’t say anything. She was Kore. Minthe reminded herself that that was a bad thing.
The flowers were still smoldering and with a wiggle of her fingers, the rest of the flowers wilted.
“Some flower goddess.”
“For something to grow healthily again, you have to get rid of it’s toxic roots.” Kore smiled, her rosy skin glowing with power. “If I simply made it grow again, it’d wilt again after a few weeks.”
The petals and stems melted into the dirt, leaving a glowing sheen over the soil. Kore gave a soft hum and new flowers emerged, bright pink and shimmering with life. Kore was smiling to herself proudly and Minthe had to admit, her powers were kind of cool. She was hardworking and intelligent, and if tomorrow was her last day . . . Well, maybe she could enable her computer program again.
Minthe watched Kore fade into the sky, trails of magic fluttering behind her. Cerberus whined pathetically after her. Minthe scratched between his ears, rolling her eyes. So easily attached.
Hades still wasn’t home so Minthe busied herself. He wasn’t going to be back for a while if the god of madness and Persephone had gotten to him. She sweeped away the ash and butts and made herself dinner, Cerberus circling her the entire time at the smell. When she sat down to eat, she didn’t pull out her phone and mindlessly scroll Fatesbook. Minthe tried to follow the advice those hippies shilled out of ‘living in the moment’-appreciating the fruits of her labor and the sweet taste of victory. Kore was finally leaving her life at the cost of some photographer’s eye.
Minthe cringed at the thought. Despite the farce she put on for Kore, violence unsettled her. It was too close to home, the brutal power of the gods that could end her life in a snap. Hera’s face came too mind much too quickly. But Hades could never scare her. She knew him like the back of her hand and a temper was one of the flaws that she’d come to love him for. It was something they had in common. But where Hades had the power to take it out on others physically, she had to settle for subtle digs and schemes.
Miserable together she thought, wiping her lips with the napkin. That’s the way we want it to be.
Sitting at the edge of the pool, a glass of water in her hand and some book she hadn’t opened in forever, Minthe felt … Happy. A rarity for her. And when she saw the clusters of new pink flowers behind her, she surprised herself by picking one. Just a small one and her long red tresses hid it well.
But it was there nonetheless. A little bit of Kore to accompany her as she got ready for the night. Her compliment still buzzed pleasantly beneath her skin, and she was torn between letting it stay or beating it away with a stick. The goddess was leaving, she couldn’t hurt her anymore. And she’d been … Nice, even considering everything Minthe had done. Even she could appreciate such saint like grace.
A dark voice spoke in her head, a defensive mechanism after so many years alone. She’s just pretending. There are no perfect people.
Minthe quelled the voice by telling it to fuck off and let her sleep. And she did. Better than she had in a while.
The flower was still lush with life when she woke up. New soil would keep it like that for a long time.
Hot take but I really do think that some of y’all need to consider how/why/when/how often you’re making fun of straight people for being straight
I do it too, I’m not going to pretend I don’t make jokes about the hets, or the down with cis bus, or whatever
But I recently befriended a cis, straight dude and I have watched him be dismissed, degraded, and unambiguously insulted for the perceived “crime” of being straight — all in queer environments where he is allegedly “completely welcome” and surrounded by “friends”
This guy is not a toxic person! But I have seen him be made to feel so small and like his comfort and safety in those spaces are conditional on his silence and acceptance of being treated like a human dunk zone, and I think that some of y’all have had so much shit from straight/cis people that the second you feel like you’ve got an inch, you want to luxuriate in the perceived catharsis of bullying someone who— actually —doesn’t deserve it
And until he very, very carefully mentioned to me in private that it makes him feel bad, I didn’t even clock that I was involved in doing that, that it had become so instinctive for me to make casual jokes like that, and that— well meaning or otherwise —I had been contributing to an environment that made someone I really really like feel like shit
So, I dunno, I think maybe some of y’all should think about that too
it's extremely critical that you see the photo of the perp walk for luigi mangione as being propaganda. i've seen so many people wave it off and instead fawn over his looks. and trust me, i know it ended up being kind of pathetic and weird - but please don't brush it off as a "modelling opportunity" for him. it's a fucking terrifying message the police are sending.
i want to make a few comparisons here, in case you're not from the US or familiar with why the perp walk thing is something to pay attention to. just to set the groundwork for why this is a purposeful, unusual, and cruel act by the nyc police - for why this is not a common occurrence and for why that matters.
the prosecution alleges the show of force is due to the charge of "terrorism." for comparison, in june 2015, tsarnaev was found guilty for the boston marathon bombing, which killed 3 people and injured hundreds. his actions are considered to be an act of domestic terrorism. i have spent the last hour looking through google for pictures of similar to mangione's perp walk - and so far, i have found zero. i also just do not personally remember a moment like that, despite living in boston at the time.
they allege that luigi is a stone-cold killer who carried out a longterm plan, making him particularly dangerous. again for comparison: in nyc, recently cory martin was found guilty of the killing of brandy odom. the murder was planned and premeditated to steal insurance money. and yet no staged perp walk. why didn't her life matter enough for a "show of force"?
but mangione gets paraded by a veritable army of police officers as if he is a rabid animal. for a single citizen who allegedly killed one other single citizen, the "largest perp walk ever" occurs.
so what is the "strong message" that the mayor and the police were trying to send here? the mayor speaks as if mangione is already convicted of terrorism. there is a very thin number of people who feel threatened by the CEO's death. none of us felt like mangione needs to be under massive armed guard.
the message is that you shouldn't resist. they are trying to "make an example" of him - that if you behave badly and kill a single rich person, you'll be treated as if you killed hundreds of people. you will be treated worse than a man who was found guilty of terrorism. you will be considered guilty without trial. the message is that the rich are a protected class, and you cannot touch them without massive punishment. they are trying to prevent a revolution by showing dominance and force against you.
the message is that the police are a puppet of the wealthy and that the law is not equally applied across class disparity. it is "some are more equal than others." it is "one life is more precious than another."
the show of force wasn't for luigi. it was for us. it was a warning. they are trying to remind us who is really in control.
The fact that this is 80 fucking years ago but still just as relevant is terrifying.
All y'all fuckers when you say you ain't gonna vote
Please, spread this for those who might need it right now
U.S. suicide hotline: call or text 988 (available 24 hours)
U.S. trans lifeline: (877) 565-8860 (when you call, you’ll speak to a trans/nonbinary peer operator. full anonymity and confidentiality)
Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) National Helpline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357) – provides 24/7 confidential support and referrals for individuals and families facing mental health and substance use disorders, including panic attacks and anxiety.
LGBT National Help Center: (888) 843-4564
Trevor Project: Call (866) 488-7386, text START to 678-678, or chat online.
Take care of yourself and each other. Please stay safe ♡
More deceit from DOGE
SO HERE IS THE WHOLE STORY (SO FAR).
I am on my knees begging you to reblog this post and to stop reblogging the original ones I sent out yesterday. This is the complete account with all the most recent info; the other one is just sending people down senselessly panicked avenues that no longer lead anywhere.
IN SHORT
Cliff Weitzman, CEO of Speechify and (aspiring?) voice actor, used AI to scrape thousands of popular, finished works off AO3 to list them on his own for-profit website and in his attached app. He did this without getting any kind of permission from the authors of said work or informing AO3. Obviously.
When fandom at large was made aware of his theft and started pushing back, Weitzman issued a non-apology on the original social media posts—using
his dyslexia;
his intent to implement a tip-system for the plagiarized authors; and
a sudden willingness to take down the work of every author who saw my original social media posts and emailed him individually with a ‘valid’ claim,
as reasons we should allow him to continue monetizing fanwork for his own financial gain.
When we less-than-kindly refused, he took down his ‘apologies’ as well as his website (allegedly—it’s possible that our complaints to his web host, the deluge of emails he received or the unanticipated traffic brought it down, since there wasn’t any sort of official statement made about it), and when it came back up several hours later, all of the work formerly listed in the fan fiction category was no longer there.
THE TAKEAWAYS
1. Cliff Weitzman (aka Ofek Weitzman) is a scumbag with no qualms about taking fanwork without permission, feeding it to AI and monetizing it for his own financial gain;
2. Fandom can really get things done when it wants to, and
3. Our fanworks appear to be hidden, but they’re NOT DELETED from Weitzman’s servers, and independently published, original works are still listed without the authors' permission. We need to hold this man responsible for his theft, keep an eye on both his current and future endeavors, and take action immediately when he crosses the line again.
THE TIMELINE, THE DETAILS, THE SCREENSHOTS (behind the cut)
Sunday night, December 22nd 2024, I noticed an influx in visitors to my fic You & Me & Holiday Wine. When I searched the title online, hoping to find out where they came from, a new listing popped up (third one down, no less):
This listing is still up today, by the way, though now when you follow the link to word-stream, it just brings you to the main site. (Also, to be clear, this was not the cause for the influx of traffic to my fic; word-stream did not link back to the original work anywhere.)
I followed the link to word-stream, where to my horror Y&M&HW was listed in its entirety—though, beyond the first half of the first chapter, behind a paywall—along with a link promising to take me—through an app downloadable on the Apple Store—to an AI-narrated audiobook version. When I searched word-stream itself for my ao3 handle I found both of my multi-chapter fics were listed this way:
Because the tags on my fics (which included genres* and characters, but never the original IPs**) weren’t working, I put ‘Kara Danvers’ into the search bar and discovered that many more supercorp fics (Supergirl TV fandom, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor pairing) were listed.
I went looking online for any mention of word-stream and AI plagiarism (the covers—as well as the ridiculously inflated number of reviews and ratings—made it immediately obvious that AI fuckery was involved), but found almost nothing: only one single Reddit post had been made, and it received (at that time) only a handful of upvotes and no advice.
I decided to make a tumblr post to bring the supercorp fandom up to speed about the theft. I draw as well as write for fandom and I’ve only ever had to deal with art theft—which has a clear set of steps to take depending on where said art was reposted—and I was at a loss regarding where to start in this situation.
After my post went up I remembered Project Copy Knight, which is worth commending for the work they’ve done to get fic stolen from AO3 taken down from monetized AI 'audiobook’ YouTube accounts. I reached out to @echoekhi, asking if they’d heard of this site and whether they could advise me on how to get our works taken down.
While waiting for a reply I looked into Copy Knight’s methods and decided to contact OTW’s legal department:
And then I went to bed.
By morning, tumblr friends @makicarn and @fazedlight as well as a very helpful tumblr anon had seen my post and done some very productive sleuthing:
@echoekhi had also gotten back to me, advising me, as expected, to contact the OTW. So I decided to sit tight until I got a response from them.
That response came only an hour or so later:
Which was 100% understandable, but still disappointing—I doubted a handful of individual takedown requests would accomplish much, and I wasn’t eager to share my given name and personal information with Cliff Weitzman himself, which is unavoidable if you want to file a DMCA.
I decided to take it to Reddit, hoping it would gain traction in the wider fanfic community, considering so many fandoms were affected. My Reddit posts (with the updates at the bottom as they were emerging) can be found here and here.
A helpful Reddit user posted a guide on how users could go about filing a DMCA against word-stream here (to wobbly-at-best results)
A different helpful Reddit user signed up to access insight into word-streams pricing. Comment is here.
Smells unbelievably scammy, right? In addition to those audacious prices—though in all fairness any amount of money would be audacious considering every work listed is accessible elsewhere for free—my dyscalculia is screaming silently at the sight of that completely unnecessary amount of intentionally obscured numbers.
Speaking of which! As soon as the post on r/AO3—and, as a result, my original tumblr post—began taking off properly, sometime around 1 pm, jumpscare! A notification that a tumblr account named @cliffweitzman had commented on my post, and I got a bit mad about the gist of his message :
Fortunately he caught plenty of flack in the comments from other users (truly you should check out the comment section, it is extremely gratifying and people are making tremendously good points), in response to which, of course, he first tried to both reiterate and renegotiate his point in a second, longer comment (which I didn’t screenshot in time so I’m sorry for the crappy notification email formatting):
which he then proceeded to also post to Reddit (this is another Reddit user’s screenshot, I didn’t see it at all, the notifications were moving too fast for me to follow by then)
... where he got a roughly equal amount of righteously furious replies. (Check downthread, they're still there, all the way at the bottom.)
After which Cliff went ahead & deleted his messages altogether.
It’s not entirely clear whether his account was suspended by Reddit soon after or whether he deleted it himself, but considering his tumblr account is still intact, I assume it’s the former. He made a handful of sock puppet accounts to play around with for a while, both on Reddit and Tumblr, only one of which I have a screenshot of, but since they all say roughly the same thing, you’re not missing much:
And then word-stream started throwing a DNS error.
That lasted for a good number of hours, which was unfortunately right around the time that a lot of authors first heard about the situation and started asking me individually how to find out whether their work was stolen too. I do not have that information and I am unclear on the perimeters Weitzman set for his AI scraper, so this is all conjecture: it LOOKS like the fics that were lifted had three things in common:
They were completed works;
They had over several thousand kudos on AO3; and
They were written by authors who had actively posted or updated work over the past year.
If anyone knows more about these perimeters or has info that counters my observation, please let me know!
I finally thought to check/alert evil Twitter during this time, and found out that the news was doing the rounds there already. I made a quick thread summarizing everything that had happened just in case. You can find it here.
I went to Bluesky too, where fandom was doing all the heavy lifting for me already, so I just reskeeted, as you do, and carried on.
Sometime in the very early evening, word-stream went back up—but the fan fiction category was nowhere to be seen. Tentative joy and celebration!***
That’s when several users—the ones who had signed up for accounts to gain intel and had accessed their own fics that way—reported that their work could still be accessed through their history. Relevant Reddit post here.
Sooo—
We’re obviously not done. The fanwork that was stolen by Weitzman may be inaccessible through his website right now, but they aren’t actually gone. And the fact that Weitzman wasn’t willing to get rid of them altogether means he still has plans for them.
This was my final edit on my Reddit post before turning off notifications, and it's pretty much where my head will be at for at least the foreseeable future:
Please feel free to add info in the comments, make your own posts, take whatever action you want to take to protect your work. I only beg you—seriously, I’m on my knees here—to not give up like I saw a handful of people express the urge to do. Keep sharing your creative work and remain vigilant and stay active to make sure we can continue to do so freely. Visit your favorite fics, and the ones you’ve kept in your ‘marked for later’ lists but never made time to read, and leave kudos, leave comments, support your fandom creatives, celebrate podficcers and support AO3. We created this place and it’s our responsibility to keep it alive and thriving for as long as we possibly can.
Also FUCK generative AI. It has NO place in fandom spaces.
THE 'SMALL' PRINT (some of it in all caps):
*Weitzman knew what he was doing and can NOT claim ignorance. One, it’s pretty basic kindergarten stuff that you don’t steal some other kid’s art project and present it as your own only to act surprised when they protest and then tell the victim that they should have told you sooner that they didn’t want their project stolen. And two, he was very careful never to list the IPs these fanworks were based on, so it’s clear he was at least familiar enough with the legalities to not get himself in hot water with corporate lawyers. Fucking over fans, though, he figured he could get away with that.
**A note about the AI that Weitzman used to steal our work: it’s even greasier than it looks at first glance. It’s not just the method he used to lift works off AO3 and then regurgitate onto his own website and app. Looking beyond the untold horrors of his AI-generated cover ‘art’, in many cases these covers attempt to depict something from the fics in question that can’t be gleaned from their summaries alone. In addition, my fics (and I assume the others, as well) were listed with generated genres; tags that did not appear anywhere in or on my fic on AO3 and were sometimes scarily accurate and sometimes way off the mark. I remember You & Me & Holiday Wine had ‘found family’ (100% correct, but not tagged by me as such) and I believe The Shape of Soup was listed as, among others, ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ and ‘love triangle’ (both wildly inaccurate). Even worse, not all the fic listed (as authors on Reddit pointed out) came with their original summaries at all. Often the entire summary was AI-generated. All of these things make it very clear that it was an all-encompassing scrape—not only were our fics stolen, they were also fed word-for-word into the AI Weitzman used and then analyzed to suit Weitzman’s needs. This means our work was literally fed to this AI to basically do with whatever its other users want, including (one assumes) text generation.
***Fan fiction appears to have been made (largely) inaccessible on word-stream at this time, but I’m hearing from several authors that their original, independently published work, which is listed at places like Kindle Unlimited, DOES still appear in word-stream’s search engine. This obviously hurts writers, especially independent ones, who depend on these works for income and, as a rule, don’t have a huge budget or a legal team with oceans of time to fight these battles for them. If you consider yourself an author in the broader sense, beyond merely existing online as a fandom author, beyond concerns that your own work is immediately at risk, DO NOT STOP MAKING NOISE ABOUT THIS.
Again, please, please PLEASE reblog this post instead of the one I sent originally. All the information is here, and it's driving me nuts to see the old ones are still passed around, sending people on wild goose chases.
Thank you all so much.
Yo is elementary tumblr still a thing??? Im hyperfixating on it again
Have some art :)
Realised I couldnt draw Joan like, at all, decided to change that because she beautiful and she deserves better
And I did better! Not perfect, you mind, but good enough I suppose.
Rewatched no lack of void, turned to quick art trying to direct all those feelings somewhere else because that ending BREAKS me
And, of course, drew the blorbo himself a few times 🫶
Sometimes a bit more successfully.. ish...
And sometimes neither true to my style nor to sherlock...
Too lazy to devide this post, so yall get everything at once
Same on AO3. I try to publish something, either a new chapter or work, twice a month.
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