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#so I've got a lot drafted
wispscribbles · 4 months
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why are you and your drawings so cool 😭🙏
afdsasdfasg thank you !! irl ppl would laugh at me being called cool lol - Have a ghoap as thanks <33
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allaganexarch · 19 days
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wip whenever ♥
Thank you so much to @myreia for the tag!
It is once again time to bother you with original thing! Up til now I've been posting pretty much sequential pieces but I'm skipping ahead a lil bit this time bc I'm way too excited about the Lore TM.
part 1 || part 2 || part 3
It's been awhile since I bothered ppl so let's see I shall tag @eemamminy-art @delirious-comfort @quinnthebard @thepapernautilus @yourlocaldisneyvillain and anyone else who feels like sharing a wip!
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At first glance, the town of Nodig does not appear so very different from Godsplace.  It has the same small, crowded feeling and a similar sort of age-old architecture.  But as they make their way into the little town, Tamsin quickly decides that two places could not be more different.  There are streetlamps and shops, all of them well-lit and welcoming, and the streets are bustling with people even at this late hour.  The people are happy, smiling and laughing and greeting one another as they pass, not huddled together with eyes downcast, afraid to be seen or heard.
The tavern, too, bears almost no resemblance to the one Tamsin knows.  That place is well-known as the dominion of lechers and drunkards, not a place anyone who cares a whit for his reputation would like to be seen.  This tavern is clean and well-tended, and there are a mix of men and women, most sat at tables and ensconced in their own private conversations.  They barely take any notice when Althea and Tamsin enter.  Nodig is used to travelers from all over the world.
The only person who takes any note of their arrival is the man standing behind the bar.  He is grey-haired and nondescript, and he greets Althea with a curt nod of his head.
“I’ve brought an unexpected guest,” says Althea.  “I hope it won’t be any trouble.”
“Of course not, Miss,” says the man with another nod.  Then he disappears into the back room.
As the bartender leaves, a man sat at the far end of the bar turns on his stool to take a look at them.  He speaks up in a clear, piercing voice.
“Unexpected guest?” he wonders.  “Not a soon-to-be initiate?”
Although he is sitting down, he appears to be a slight man, and his sweater hangs loosely upon his shoulders.  He has dark hair cut in a simple, clean style and wears thick, dark-rimmed glasses.  He doesn’t look particularly young or old, but he lacks Althea’s gravitas.
Althea, for her part, seems markedly unimpressed.  “Tamsin,” she says, her gaze fixed upon the wall somewhere behind the bar, “this is Vivius Moonbright.”
Tamsin looks from Althea back to the man, matching the name to the face.
“A pleasure, I’m sure,” says Vivius, extending his hand in greeting.
Tamsin takes his hand.  “Moonbright?” she repeats curiously.  “Forgive me, but I’ve never heard a name like that.”
Vivius laughs good-naturedly.  “Yes, it does sound rather frivolous around these parts,” he says.  “And in most parts of the world, if I’m being honest.  But in my homeland of Almyst such names are quite common, I assure you.  Moonbright, Silvermist, Windsong, and so forth.”
Tamsin smiles.  “They sound like names out of a heroic tale.  What is it like there, in Almyst?  Do you miss it?”
Vivius hums.  His thoughtfulness strikes Tamsin as markedly different from Althea’s.  It is bright and animated, like the overture to an old, favorite song.  “It is beautiful there,” he begins.  He gestures that Tamsin should sit, and retakes his own barstool next to her.  “And the people are largely…how shall I say this?  Good-hearted, to be certain, but decidedly serious.  The nation has a difficult past, and its people reflect that, in some ways.”  With a wink, he adds, “And let me tell you, they would not take kindly to any comments on their peculiar naming conventions.”
“Oh,” Tamsin flusters.  “Forgive me, I meant no offense.”
“None taken, I assure you,” says Vivius, waving a hand dismissively.  “And you, Tamsin?  Where did our Keeper Althea find you?”
Tamsin glances nervously over her shoulder toward Althea, hoping for some guidance, but Althea is still pointedly ignoring them both.  After all she has been through in recent memory, Tamsin is not inclined to trust in someone Althea doesn’t seem to like very much, even if he seems perfectly friendly.  But Althea does not acknowledge her, and so Tamsin is forced to make up her own mind.  She reasons that whence she hails is no great secret.
“Godsplace,” says Tamsin at last.  “Have you heard of it?”
“Heard of it, yes,” says Vivius.  Even when he speaks severely, there is a certain lightness to his voice.  “Not for the best reasons, though.  I’m sure it possesses many charms that go unreported.”
“Maybe,” says Tamsin charitably, but she labors to think of any at the moment.
“Not too sad to be taking your leave, I see?” Vivius observes.
“No,” Tamsin agrees with a self-effacing smile.  But it feels wrong to speak ill of her homeland without some further explanation, and so she amends, “There’s…not really much left for me in Godsplace.”
“Ah,” says Vivius knowingly.  “And so very much to be found for you at the Academy.”
Again Tamsin glances uncomfortably in Althea’s direction.  “You know much about it?” she presses hesitantly.  “The Academy?”
Perhaps it is her imagination, but Tamsin is sure she hears Althea let out a quiet, derisive scoff.
“Actually,” says Vivius, with the air of barely-contained excitement, “I am nearly as new to the Academy as you.”
Tamsin whirls around to face him fully.  “I beg your pardon?”
Vivius ducks his head and shrugs sheepishly, the kind of affected modesty borne of one who is in truth quite proud of his achievements.  But before he can say anything else, Althea cuts in coldly.  “Don’t bother demonstrating.  She can’t see.”
Both Vivius and Tamsin look up, surprised by her sudden interjection.  Althea is still looking away from them.
Tamsin’s mind is slow to catch up.  New to the Academy, demonstrating, can’t see—  “You have the Gift?” she turns back to Vivius.
Her tone is perhaps more openly incredulous than she had intended, but the idea is something of an absurdity.  She’s never heard of a man with magic.  Why, the people of Godsplace would be in an uproar.  She tries to imagine one of those gruesome scenes in the Town Square with the roles reversed, nonmagical women in official uniform dragging unwitting young men up onto the stage to put them to the flame.  It would never happen.
Again Vivius shrugs good-naturedly.  Tamsin begins to feel acutely embarrassed by her inexperience.  “I’m sorry,” she says quickly.  “I don’t mean to be rude, really, it’s just that…”  It’s just that where Tamsin comes from, women are put to the flame for witchcraft, a fate even the most dreadful man, someone a thousand times worse than Teddy Page, need never fear.
“It’s all right, Tamsin, I’m quite accustomed to the shock,” says Vivius, holding up his hands in a show of surrender.  “Men who possess the Gift are exceedingly rare, but we do exist.  As I would gladly demonstrate, but the Keeper informs me such a show would be lost on you for the moment.”
“Yes, what a shame,” says Althea icily.  “One wonders why you ever left the Academy at all, Vivius, if you’re so fond of impressing wide-eyed idiots with parlor tricks.”
Tamsin winces at Althea’s cruelty, but Vivius seems remarkably unfazed.  “Don’t mind the Keeper,” he says to Tamsin.  “She’ll be a different person once she gets her meal.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” says Althea.
As if on cue, the bartender emerges from the back room balancing three large plates on his arm, all filled to overflowing with foods that are unrecognizable to Tamsin.  She’s been so preoccupied, she barely even noticed her own hunger, but now her mouth waters, and her stomach aches.
The food is rich and heavy, not at all what Tamsin is used to.  She cannot identify a single thing on her plate—even the type of grain is unknown to her.  The meat is cooked in a way Tamsin could never have imagined—it seems to her to be covered in some sort of bread crumbs and cooked in a heavy oil.  When she wonders aloud at this ingenuity, she draws both Vivius and the bartender into conversation with her, and they happily explain the origin and preparation of each of the unfamiliar foods, and many others besides.
Althea continues to ignore them.  She eats her food at the other end of the bar in self-contained silence.
In spite of Althea’s coldness, Tamsin finds herself warming to Vivius.  He is friendly and forthcoming, and he doesn’t answer her questions with long, weighty pauses or meandering riddles that aren’t really answers at all.
“Keeper Althea mentioned that there aren’t very many new students at the moment,” Tamsin prompts him, attempting to sound casual.  To her left, she would swear she can almost feel Althea bristling, but Althea doesn’t say anything.
“Yes, well, it’s to be expected,” says Vivius.
“Why is that?”
“Well, because of the prophecy,” says Vivius, as though this should be obvious.  He takes a bite, evidently unaware that this warrants any further explanation.
“Prophecy?” Tamsin echoes.
Vivius looks up mid-bite, his eyes rendered somewhat comically wide by the thick lenses of his glasses.  He finishes his food and sputters, “Oh, goodness, forgive me, I really thought even the nonmagical knew about that.”
“Not me,” says Tamsin simply.
“Oh, well, uh—“ Vivius glances somewhat nervously toward Althea.  “I don’t know if I’m the best person to explain it.”
When Althea remains steadfastly silent, Vivius amends, “But I’ll do my best.”
He puts down his fork and steeples his fingers while he thinks.  “So, how to put this?  I think I ought to start by saying that the average person cannot actually confirm whether the prophecy really exists.”
“It does,” says Althea quietly.
“Right,” Vivius falters, “as I’ve said, the average person.  It’s important because interpretations vary widely the world over.  And of course, like all prophecies, the actual contents are extremely vague and open to interpretation.”
“What are the actual contents?” Tamsin asks.
Again Vivius glances hopefully toward Althea, but she keeps her counsel.
“The story goes,” Vivius continues cautiously, “that a child born at the crossroads of time will set the darkness free of its shackles.”
A moment’s silence follows.  “That’s it?” asks Tamsin.
Vivius nods.  “That’s it.”
In spite of her stony silence, Tamsin glances back toward Althea.  “But that’s hardly anything!  That doesn’t answer my question at all!”
Vivius chuckles.  “Yes, it is infuriating, isn’t it?”
“Why does that amount to no new students at the Academy?” Tamsin presses, not a little exasperated.
“Well, let’s break it down, shall we?” says Vivius, in the manner of a kindly schoolteacher.  “What do you suppose qualifies as a ‘crossroads of time?’”
Tamsin balks at him for a long moment before she even deigns to consider what he has said.  Nameless nobodies do not get much education in Godsplace, and it has been a long while since she was a student of anything.
“All right,” she sighs at last.  “I don’t know.  The start of a new year?  The changing of an Era?”
Vivius nods.  “Excellent guesses.  Also the most common interpretation.  Most people believe that this fabled child was born at the changing of the Era, perhaps even at the very turning of the year, right as the clock struck midnight.  If so, how old would that child be now?”
“Sixteen,” Tamsin answers easily.  The child would have been born in the same year as she.  “But then how—“
“And what sort of person do you imagine could manage a feat like breaking the darkness free from its shackles?  Someone ordinary?”
Tamsin falters.  “Well, no, I suppose not.”
“Almost certainly one of the Gifted, yes?” Vivius nods.
“Sure,” says Tamsin.  “But what does that even mean?  Setting the darkness free and all that?”
“Now that explanation I shall leave to your teachers at the Academy,” Vivius laughs.  “Suffice to say, there is darkness in this world, in a very literal sense.  It is a kind of magic not so very different from your own Gift.  Very powerful.  But dangerous.  Unpredictable.  It is said that once the darkness finds you, you can never truly be free of it, even if you manage to resist its whispers all the days of your life.”
Tamsin shivers involuntarily.
“No one knows exactly what it means, setting the darkness free of its shackles.  How could we?  Scholars may theorize, but they are going off of next to nothing, little more than stories almost as old as time itself.  But a world plunged into darkness does not sound very appealing on its face, now, does it?”
“Well, no,” says Tamsin uncertainly.
“As I’ve said, interpretations abound the world over, most of them probably wildly inaccurate.  But nearly everyone agrees on one thing: the prophecy cannot come to pass.  It would destroy the world as we know it.”
Such heady concepts are, for the moment, wholly beyond Tamsin’s comprehension.  She is more focused on one simple matter.  “You still haven’t answered my question,” she points out.
Vivius laughs, abashed.  “No, I suppose I haven’t.  There may be many reasons that so few young ladies of your age have made their way to the Academy.  Many have likely been hunted down and killed, as, I’m given to understand, is the practice in Godsplace.  Many, I expect, are in hiding, hesitant to submit themselves to the Academy’s scrutiny.”
Tamsin considers this, her mind reeling.  “Because, what?  What would happen?  To this…person the prophecy speaks of?”
“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it?” says Vivius with a shrug.  “How can they know?  Public opinion on the matter is not generous, to say the least.”
“Should I be worried, then?” Tamsin wonders.  The idea had not occurred to her.
“Well, I don’t know,” says Vivius.  “You were born at the changing of the Era, but when?”
Tamsin shrugs.  “Sometime in the summer.  I’m not sure exactly.”
Vivius nods, as if that is the end of it.  “Well, then, it’s unlikely you’ll run into any problems at all.  The prophecy is open to interpretation, of course, but these things tend toward the dramatic.  To that end, perhaps we’ll start seeing more new students sooner than later, now that the timing is off.”
They fall into silence after that, Tamsin consumed by her thoughts, and the others concerned with their food.  When they have all cleaned their plates, the bartender comes to collect them, and he tells Althea that he has prepared another room for Tamsin.
‘Wonderful,” says Althea, offering the bartender a smile and a nod as she accepts her keys.  “Thank you.”  For the first time since they arrived, she looks at Tamsin.  “I’ll be turning in now.  Shall I show you to your room?”
“All right,” says Tamsin, trying very hard not to scramble to her feet.  “Good night, Vivius,” she says.  “Will I see you again soon?”
“It’s been a pleasure, Tamsin,” says Vivius with a wave.  “I’ll be heading out before dawn, but come and find me when you make your way to the Academy, won’t you?”
Tamsin nods, and she feels distinctly relieved to have at least one friend to look forward to at the mysterious Academy.  She turns around to find that Althea has just barely waited for her, and quickly scrambles to follow Althea through a small doorway and up a narrow staircase.  Outside, the moon is uncommonly bright, and it casts strange shadows through the open window.  The stairs shift and creak ominously beneath her feet, and the banister feels ready to work itself loose.
When they reach the second floor, Tamsin dares to speak up.  “May I ask you something?”
“You may,” says Althea.
“You don’t seem to like Vivius much,” says Tamsin.
Althea glances over her shoulder.  “Is that a question?”
Tamsin averts her gaze, embarrassed.  “Well, am I wrong?” she wonders self-consciously.  “Why don’t you like him?”
Perhaps Tamsin could have anticipated the way Althea weighs her question with a heavy sigh.  She stops in front of a door in the middle of the hallway and produces a key.  She ushers Tamsin inside and closes the door behind them before she even begins to answer.
“It’s not exactly that I don’t like Vivius,” says Althea at last.  “But have you ever in your life heard of a man with the Gift?  Even in stories?”
“Well, no,” Tamsin admits.  “It is strange to think of, but…”
“Strange, yes.  Almost unheard of,” says Althea.  “The thing that troubles me is that no one seems to know how it happens.  I mentioned to you earlier that the Gift is hereditary?  Not so with men, at least as far as anyone can tell.  Which is not very far at all, since there are maybe a handful total, in all of history.”
“Even still,” says Tamsin hesitantly, “you make it sound like it’s his fault.”
“As I’ve said, I’ve nothing against Vivius specifically,” says Althea curtly.  “But I do not trust his magic, nor do I support allowing a man into the Academy, no matter his talents.  He could just as easily go across the water, where he would be welcomed.”
Tamsin considers this.  “Do…others feel as you do?” she wonders.  “Other Keepers, I mean?”
To her surprise, Althea chuckles.  “You think my views are unusual?”
Tamsin averts her gaze.  “Well, I wouldn’t know.”
“But you disagree.”
“Well.”  Tamsin doesn’t know enough to agree or disagree.  She likes Vivius, but she trusts Althea.  She fiddles with the strap of her traveling bag.
“Opinions on the matter are mixed at the Academy,” Althea elaborates at last, with surprising good humor.  “Which, as it happens, is another reason for my objection.  Vivius’s mere presence at the Academy is the subject of endless debate, all of it a colossal waste of time.   There are far more important matters.”
“Like the prophecy?” Tamsin wonders, before she has fully decided to speak.
Althea sighs.  Again, she looks a little amused.  “It’s not as though I’m keeping things from you on purpose, Tamsin,” she says.  “There’s a lot to take in.  And frankly, the prophecy is not the sort of thing a new initiate should be most worried about.”
Still, Tamsin cannot help but ask, “You said earlier that…that you know it’s real.  You know it exists.”
“Yes, well,” Althea averts her gaze.  “I am among the lucky few.”  The light from the full moon catches in her eyes, and Tamsin is reminded of the way they glowed when she used her Gift.
Tamsin considers this.  “Is that why you came to Godsplace?” she wonders.
Althea quirks a brow at her.  “After a fashion,” she says.
“Is that why the burnings happen?” Tamsin presses.  “Because of the prophecy?”
“Not exactly,” says Althea.  “Godsplace has a long history of archaic practices.  But I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the reason you’ve noticed them happening more frequently.”
“Then…”  Again Tamsin fidgets uncomfortably with the strap of her bag.  “Then there are people in Godsplace who know about it?”  Could Bryce have known?  Would he keep something like that from her?
“Perhaps.  But this is all pure speculation, you understand.  I came to Godsplace because I heard about the burnings and I had a feeling I should go and try to intervene.  As it turned out, my feeling was about you.”
“Me?” Tamsin echoes, stunned.
“Well, yes,” says Althea, as though it were obvious.  “Following my intuition led me right to you in your hour of need, after all.  And I’d have allowed you to stay and say a proper farewell if I felt we had the time.”
“But…” Tamsin stammers.  “But I thought you said you came to Godsplace because of the prophecy.”
“I did,” says Althea.  “I’ve been traveling trying to find anyone who fits the description.”
“But I don’t fit the description,” says Tamsin.
Althea hums.  “No, not exactly.  Nevertheless, you are a Gifted who would likely have been put to the flame without my intervention.  An equally worthy cause, I should think.”
Tamsin shivers.  “But then…why are you looking for the prophecy?” she wonders.  “What will you do?”
Althea considers this.  “It’s more about what I will not do, if I’m being honest.  Many would see the prophesied child dead, as if something so banal would put an end to all the world’s problems.  If I can find her, I would spare her from that fate, and see that she is properly trained.”
“Why?” Tamsin asks.  “Would it be better?  Would that avert the prophecy?”
“I cannot know for certain,” says Althea.  “In many ways I am as much in the dark as anyone else.  But is it not better to try to avert such a prophecy with the power of reason?  With information and preparation?  Rather than expecting brute force to unmake the delicate weave of fate?”
Tamsin doesn’t know what to say to that.
“I would not see what is sure to be a talented young lady put to the flame before she can even realize her potential,” says Althea with a small smile.  “And I mean that as much for you as I do for the prophesied child, whoever she may be.  What happens after that is another matter, best left for when the time comes.”
Tamsin nods slowly.  Perhaps Althea is right, after all, and she has asked for more knowledge than she is ready to handle.  It is a lot to take in.
Althea pats her shoulder.  “Get some rest, Tamsin.“
It is perhaps a mercy that Tamsin is so unfathomably tired.  Her head is spinning, and on any other night, the brightness of the moon might have kept her awake thinking until her time for sleep had passed.  But almost as soon as she lays down, she feels herself drifting off.  In her dreams, she is being led into the Town Square all tied up with heavy rope, but she is not afraid.  She knows the flame cannot touch her anymore.
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sophieswundergarten · 11 months
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So. Everyone who yelled at me yesterday for making a ramble on Reynie going blank and then not resolving it, this is for you: (@lemondropletters, you have been tagged)
Also, it's in a Google Doc because it was definitely too long for a Tumblr post, and ~~I don't know how AO3 works~~
The (vague) premise is that, instead of Constance seeing Curtain's broadcast, they all get to the compound mentally sound, but once there, they split up to look for Mr. Benedict, and instead Reynie finds Curtain. This is the wrap up of what would have happened in the last episode.
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not-poignant · 29 days
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Hi there! I absolutely love your works and, having followed you for a while now, I also really admire you as a person and an author in general. Every update on AO3 and Tumblr is always such a delight. I'm sorry if this ask is coming out of the blue or if it's something you've been asked before, but how did you take the plunge from writing predominantly fanfic to posting original fiction in serial form and also self-publishing novels? I'm currently in the process of drafting two original works after writing/posting fanfic regularly for years, and I'm just lost as to how to set everything up. I have a general idea (post chapter-by-chapter on AO3 and offer early access and some exclusive content on patreon or some other subscription service), but it all feels so daunting right now. Any bit of info or advice on how you got started would be immensely appreciated <3
Hi anon,
Tbh, I went from writing fanfic to original fiction because I had original characters in my fanfiction and readers asked me about them.
I had no kind of...dreams of being an original author in this way, I was published via other pathways already, and fanfiction was really an escape for me, a chance to break with all the conventions of standard writing and just do what I wanted.
But I needed a broader cast than what the movie gave me re: my first fanfics, and I added my own OCs, and left them in the background as much as possible, but even back while writing that fanfic, even the OCs were getting fanart. Sometimes readers would send me anons about them, or ask me more details about them.
Finally, I decided to write some hatesex between them, just something to kind of...idk get it out of my system? Answer what the readers were looking for?
The flow through therefore felt natural. Game Theory flows very naturally on from From the Darkness We Rise & Into Shadows We Fall. And from there, moving into other original works has been easy, in part, because I've often being doing alternate universes from a core of original characters.
If I want to introduce new original characters, I introduce them in stories where pre-existing original characters have already been established.
I didn't even start writing original works with a view to making money off that. In fact I thought it was a very foolish thing to do. A lot of people on AO3 don't want to read original works on AO3 and refuse to do it or only do it if it's PWP / pornography.
I started my Patreon account because readers asked me to. I got asks from very very generous people who wanted to know my Paypal, or asked if I'd start a Ko-Fi, and finally a few people just asked if I'd start a Patreon. I said I didn't think it was a good idea, and they said it was up to them if they wanted to pay me or not, but I should at least consider giving them the choice.
From there, I found it all very overwhelming. I made lots of mistakes. I had to go on hiatus for a year because I promised too much and couldn't deliver on many of those rewards. And for many years I only offered one early access chapter per week for one story, and my main stories were never early access (and still aren't, Underline the Black goes up for everyone at the same time - and while that may change in the future, it's definitely unconventional).
I've always been transparent with my readers that with very few exceptions, if they just wait, they eventually get everything for free. But if they want to support this kind of writing and/or enjoy it, and can comfortably afford to send some dollars my way, they can ensure that I can keep writing this way.
I have for a long time offered no exclusive content at all, I believe that can do well, but it's not my preferred way of doing things.
This career has been incredibly reader driven, anon. I would not personally attempt it cold, without a really fantastic readerbase who encouraged me every step of the way in the first place, because I am a cautious, insecure writer who doesn't like to take risks. So I can't give you advice on how to build this career without the support of the readers there in the first place, and I believe the only reason why I had their support was, in part, because of the actual strength of the writing itself. Which isn't to say it's the best, it's not, it's what I needed at the time and it's what a few other people needed, and that's basically how this works.
If you turn up with the writing, and the audience comes, and they want the story, you have the career.
In terms of practical advice - you can introduce original characters in fanfiction, just be aware that readers tend to be hostile by default if they pull any significant 'screen time' away from the fandom characters (and readers are extremely savvy to authors trying to build a financial business through AO3)
It IS daunting, but the good news is you can do a soft launch. You can open a Patreon or Ream account tomorrow and tell no one. You can mess with your graphics and your tier rewards to your heart's content when you don't have any subscribers. Build a buffer of early access/chapters, and make sure you don't overpromise on anything. Whatever you think you can realistically deliver to readers, cut it in half, because the stress of chapter update deadlines every month can really add up and it's a very different landscape to novel releases.
You can take your time, you can build interest slowly.
Remember you can never ever mention any kind of site where you're getting paid inadvertently, sneakily, or directly on AO3. You can't mention Ream, you can't mention Patreon, you can't mention Ko-Fi, you can't go 'learn more about my writing here' and link to those places. You can't mention buy links. You can only mention sites like Tumblr, Linktree, Twitter etc. Places where the point of sale isn't happening. Not doing so risks AO3's Not For Profit status and risks your entire account, and it's not worth it.
I did an interview with Subscriptions for Authors where I actually talk about many of these things so you can watch (or listen to) the podcast here if you're inclined! It also talks about the importance of community-building, gratitude to the readers, and generosity.
I am here because my readers wanted me to be. So I'm very concerned with making sure I can give them the best writing possible within my abilities. This makes me not very suited to offering 'how to start in this career' advice because it was a happy accident. It's hard to teach something I have never done your way myself, anon, because I worry I'd give bad advice. My writing had people turning up, but I'm not sure anything else I did, added much! I think responding to Tumblr asks and replying to every comment helped too! But...I don't know for sure.
But this career path does make me pretty well suited to offering 'how to keep this going' advice, because I've been doing this for ten years. <3333
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essektheylyss · 3 months
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the only thing I keep notes on when writing is stuff that's already been signaled and needs to come back somehow, and I try to keep those notes as condensed as possible because if they're too lengthy or I have too many items I'll start missing things, but that gets very funny when I jot down something like
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paintedpawz · 6 months
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Oh my, how sweet! Resident darling of this dark and spooky little cul-de-sac wants to go trick 'r treat with you. Just beware, neighbor... not all the residents are as friendly as he is. 😈
Little quick redesign of Imp Wally inspired by @killertoons design, since my old design just wasn't as cute and I personally feel I've gotten better at drawing Wally! I had to of course add Home, or rather Monster House inspired home and I had a lot of fun experimenting with a more detailed background in a doodle that turned into a thought out sketch. My reference actually, was this piece of Sam merch I WANT SO BAD......
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(you know what I think should happen? Someone should take my Izzy on a romantic surprise date, even if we haven't plotted. I mean he could just reject you! send me something or tag me!)
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phtalogreenpoison · 9 months
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Reynie Muldoon part 1
Soooo. I have posted about literally every other kid of the main four except for Reynie. Now why may that be? Do I hear projecting wildly onto this character? (yes.) (not that I don't also project onto Constance and Sticky) (not so much on Kate, though I still love her)
Now I have so so many points to cover for him, so where to start? First off, as someone in the fandom here on Tumblr mentioned, Reynie is pretty easily seen as both the Heart and the Leader of the group. And while I agree that he is indeed the Leader, I would argue that the Heart is shared between him and Constance, further contributing to their especially strong sibling bond. Which is why any discord between the two, like in Riddle of Ages, becomes one of the main internal conflicts of their group. Because yes, he cares deeply about his group member but also can sometimes see them as important players (though sometimes necessary), BUT Constance provides that grounding force for him, reminding him WHY their group is so important in the first place as well as what lines should and shouldn't be crossed.
Now, Reynie as the Leader. This is pretty clear throughout the series, though books 2-4 definitely explore having a more horizontal power structure to their group as opposed to more of a vertical power structure that kinda occurs in the first book. This means the others tend to report to him more in the first book, while in the later ones, they report to him yes, but they also have more equal say and pull. But why does Reynie become the Leader in the first place? I would argue that it stems from his years in the orphanage because of the hard to avoid neglect he encountered there. Additionally, he canonically has no lasting friends before the Society, so he most likely felt it necessary to maintain the appearance of control and reasonableness so that he would be trusted as well as the ability to fade out of the vision of bullies. (Which brings up a fascinating parallel to Curtain that I'll get into later.) But the important thing is that he doesn't fall prey to the trap of power because he remembers WHO he wants it for, which is to protect others (as well as himself). His ability to fade in and out of the background as someone completely average versus someone very unique also plays into how he leads. He is both a wallflower who listens and picks up on things people might not always pick up on, and he is a force of personality, cleverness, and kindness as well. He is very human, shaped by his circumstances, but in a way where he learned how to survive, and eventually, live.
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byanyan · 6 days
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anyway, i actually!! wrote more than i expected to today!! i'm feeling a little better, finding my balance again... aiming to finish the rest of the name prompts tomorrow 🤞
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despairforme · 8 months
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where the fuck have you been im going to to unfollow you
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He had no idea he has followers?? He doesn't pay attention to his social media...
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greyias · 10 months
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Tumblr constantly shifting where the gd permalink/non-dashboard view of posts is absolutely hell for someone who wants to open fics in a new tab to view it in reading mode (or prep it as a PDF or EPUB to send it to my Kindle).
Please. Stop. For the love of my sanity. Just give us ONE LOCATION to click. You can keep messing with the UI all the live long day. But I just don't understand why we can't have ONE CONSISTENT option that stops trying to redirect to the dashboard view.
I think I found where it is now. NOW it's clicking the three dots on the righthand corner of the post and hovering over the timestamp, and THEN you can right-click to open the original post. SO INTUITIVE AMIRITE?
Friendly reminder: make sure you enable "custom theme" on your blog if you haven't already, so you can have the [username].tumblr.com option, or your blog will be completely subject to the whims of Tumblr's broken dashboard system, and bonus, you can actually use your tags as URLs to be able to better search your blog instead of relying on this site's broken search function.
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notthestarwar · 10 months
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Snippet from: When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. Chapter 5
Ghost Mace speaks to past Jaster (alive) and tells him what he knows of Jango's future, in the life he lived.
Mace's brow stiffened. "When we realised what we had done, we tried to find him but we could not."
"We tried to find the True Mandolorian's but the survivors had fled in all directions. We did try and see justice done, there was an overhaul of our internal mission preparation process. We changed our training. Dooku left the order as did his apprentice."
"None of it could make up for what we did. Years after the fact, I learnt that Jango was sold in to slavery by the governor. It took him years to escape. I learnt of the weight of what we had done in helping end the True Mandolorian's. In leaving Death Watch unchecked."
He meets Jaster's eyes. "We are here to discuss why we haunt Jango, but it would be remiss of me to not tell you that your son has haunted me every single day since the day I left on a mission to retrieve him; to attempt to offer reparations for what my peoples neglect brought down on him, and came home empty handed."
" We thought him dead, but I did not forget him. From that day, I've carried the weight of what we did to him. I have often thought of him over the years." Mace shook his head.
"You hold no blame here, but we just might."
And isn't that a thing. His son haunting a Jedi even before that Jedi might haunt him.
Jango is tangled up in something here far beyond Jaster's reckoning.
Mace is laying out the constituent parts that when put together, make Jango in to the man that is responsible for the death of every single person standing in that warehouse. Jaster isn't sure where that leaves him, because once he's done hearing this story, in the years that lay ahead of them yet, every single one of these horrible pieces is going to fall in to place. Tragedy after Tragedy ready to be pasted and slapped on to the boy he loves, his son, in order to make him in to the man that did this.
How the hell can Jaster stand by and let that happen?
There are no rules that apply to Jaster, not anymore. He doesn't care about morality or the ethics of fucking with a future that's apparently already happened. He has no care for his own code, not now. None of it matters.
Jaster is Jango's buir, before all else. He has been from the day he stepped in to a smoldering farmhouse and against the odds saw signs of life dancing across his HUD. The Ka'ra gave him Jango and by god, it can stand back while he brings his son back from the abyss.
Mace is watching him. "Jaster, you had no hand in making Jango Fett the man he became at the end. You did not abandon him, you were taken from him. I need you to know this. You should know that none of this was your fault. "
Jaster doesn't care. It doesn't matter if its his fault or not, he is responsible all the same; because he wants to be. He didn't fall in to parenthood, he walked in to it willingly. For Jango, there is no monster that Jaster will not face.
The ka'ra has given him one last gift. The opportunity to see Jango's life after Jaster, and a few precious years in which to try and change them. It may not be in Jaster's power to save his son from himself but by god, he'll die trying.
He looks at the Jedi.  "Tell me the rest."
Some of my thoughts below the cut
Some of my thoughts (because clearly rambling in the comments hasn't been enough for me lol)
I had a lot of fun with this one. I've written about ghosts before but with this one, I went at it from another angle. In this au, ghosts aren't bound by linear time. If you do something that leaves a ghost tied to your soul, they are tied to you in the past as well as the future. Jango and Jaster are both Force Sensitive (tho with a Mando understanding of it. They call it 'star touched') and so can see ghosts.
In this fic, moving in with Jaster sets Jango on the path that brings him to the prequels. Once he's on that path, the ghosts that'll be tied to him in his future, can move freely along the timeline, with each of them pulled to a particular version of Jango. Jango will obviously be responsible for the deaths of quite a few people, there are his bounties, the Jedi and the clones and so on; but when the first ghost appears he's just a kid. The story deals with Jaster coming to terms with the fact that his kid, who he loves beyond reason, even if he stumbled upon him quite by accident, one day becomes the person that will make all these ghosts.
At first there's only one ghost in their time, but Jaster can't let it go (tho he knows he should), he needs to know what happens. So he keeps asking until she admits that she isn't the only ghost and that they are tied to Jango as he's responsible for their deaths. Then, he keeps pushing until she introduces him to the others. She gathers them in a warehouse (so Jango doesn't see) and takes Jaster there.
In the part of the story this snippet is from, Jaster has just been confronted with an excessive number of people (including children) who are all tied to Jango as he's responsible for their deaths. He's had a (understandable) freak out, and ghost Mace has taken him aside and offered to tell him what he knows of Jango's future, and how it led to the death of so many people.
What follows is a buddy up adventure between Mace and Jaster (unlikely duo) in which Jaster tries to come to terms with what Mace has told him, and the horrible events that led to Jango becoming the man that would one day be responsible for all these ghosts. While he tries to save Jango from himself, long before he needs saving.
The idea behind the fic is the inevitability of a tragedy. There's a feeling when you're watching a tragedy play out, that it's all so unnecessary, that it didn't need to happen, but you only know that because as the audience you know that they are in a tragedy, the characters don't know. So what if a character did know? Jaster is served advance notice, will having that allow him to save Jango, or will it just feed in to the fulfillment of this prophetic future?
I wanted to explore the fact that there's only so much one particular character can do, in trying to prevent the end another is headed towards and also, the power of familial love, even when it's found somewhere unexpected. Jaster isn't Jango's blood family, he didn't even know him till he was an older child, which I think makes his love for Jango in spite of knowing what he will become, all the more powerful. The glimpse of Jango's future is disgusting to Jaster, it goes against all he believes in, but its Jango so he can't hate him for it, he loves him too much and so, he's determined to save him from himself. He's willing to do the impossible.
Then there's Mace: so in this au, Mace is sent out shortly after Galidraan, when it becomes clear to the order that they've made a mistake, to find the survivor they left in the hands of the Governor, and to right a wrong. He isn't successful, he looks everywhere but he can't find him, and in the end the order write him off as dead. In this au, Jango was 18 on Galidraan and what Mace sees as his failure to save someone that was little more as a child, and suffered so greatly thanks to what the order see as their own neglect, haunts him for the rest of his career.
Its that idea of 'the one case you couldn't close'. It's at the start of his career and he goes on to do amazing things, Mace is peak Jedi, he invents a new form, he's one of the youngest Jedi to be elected to the council, he ends up heading that council, but he is still human (or near human lol sw complicates everything. he's 100% human in a fallible/emotional/sapient sense) I think that as a Master Jedi he's very aware of his own weaknesses, and he tries to work through it, he talks to it with other Jedi, and he certainly doesn't let it affect his judgement, but he can't forget it all the same.
So it's this version of Mace that ended up meeting Jango in the arena. Which I think adds such an interesting angle.
#Jaster Mereel#Mace#I've been thinking about this one (and a part of chapter 7 which i might post as another snippet)#cause i saw a poll talking about who was responsible for Jango's death and I've got a lot of opinions about that#that can not be contained by a poll lol. it's something i explored in this fic#pretty much. i think that Mace had no choice but i don't think he'd agree with that. i think he'd struggle with having killed Jango and#how he killed him. (decapitation. a particularly violent move. which i don't think he had a choice in. but yeah think he'd struggle)#i think that Jango pretty much ensured his own end and was too intelligent to not realise he was doing that so i think that was a#self hatred/survivors guilt/'i have lived past my end' kind of thing#i also think that Jango was only the person that always would have brought death upon himself like that because his past made him so#and i think his past was bad enough to make him that because it suited the greater narrative to have him end up like that#it suited palps ends pretty much. did palps know he was doing that or did the universe just work in his favour? who knows.#still worked out well for him#the poll got me thinking about Mace which got me thinking about this fic but writing about the fic has me thinking about this fic again#kinda tempted to go through it again and give it a bit of a face lift. old once over. shine it up a bit#I've always hated that it's 17 chapters tbh. want it to be 15 or 20. i don't think I'll address that this time tho.#might just try an edit however#has this???? no i won't say it. not to curse it but... the editing/ read back block may... be shifting. possibly.#considering an edit hadn't seemed so possible in a while.#there are so many things i need to look over once i can lol I've posted things still in draft state#that's cool tho. no problem. not thinking about that just thinking about how nice it would be to give this old thing a shine#Mace is so ready here to absorb all the blame for everything on the order (and by extension him) but its really not on them
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mariemariemaria · 2 months
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9 books I want to read in 2024
Somebody tagged my sideblog in one of these two or three years ago and I never followed through on it and still kinda feel bad because I liked it from my main and it probably looked like I didn't acknowledge them at all. Anyway, I'm mainly posting this because I've been meaning to read The Country Girls for almost two years and I hope this will be some kind of accountability. I tag anybody who wants to post something similar <3
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oculusxcaro · 11 months
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Despite the DNA of aquatic species being used for her genetic manipulation, Khare is still an obligate airbreather and must surface for oxygen eventually. That being said, she can hold her breath for an absurdly long time, her metabolism having slowed to a crawl to the point where she can stay submerged for extended periods when necessary.
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savrenim · 3 months
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legit so excited for my December Nightmare Schedule to be done and I Actually Get To Sit Down And Write Some Stuff
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monty-glasses-roxy · 7 months
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You know what actually? If I'm so chatty I'm reblogging stuff with thoughts and opinions when I normally wouldn't and just move on... I can absolutely fill the queue again.
If anyone wants anything in the mean time, I've got Jurassic Bark and a very specific Meteors AU thing on the brain today if anyone wants to poke at me for stuff. I'll be here for a while I think lmao
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