Star

For Gemerope's (@hikarimeroperiddle) fic series Beyond the Stars We Meet Again

Absolutely obsessed with this story, please go check it out!

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>this was over a 20 year period that they planted 272 million more trees

But it also said that over the same period 272 million trees were planted in Scotland by all land managers (not just FLS). This number does not include replanting commercial trees that have been felled, and on average FLS plants 25 million trees per year of this type.

FLS added that, “To date, the amount of woodland removed across Scotland’s national forests and land (managed by FLS) for windfarm development is not even 1 per cent of the total woodland area managed by FLS.”

Close up

burnt out pyromancers emitting steam and smoke

tired cryomancers shivering with visible foggy breath

weary necromancers looking ill and hearing voices

Voldy disturbing Harry's sleep, who was very tired from work... quick shit edit

it looks so ridiculous I will die

You are posted out by the Hollywood sign tonight, sitting under the frame where the W used to be. It got burnt to a crisp during last week’s big superhero fight. A hero died right where you’re sitting. The whole area’s been closed down until Hero Force can coordinate a recovery effort. Usually it’d be done by now but no one’s willing to touch it until the ash has been completely blown away.

It’s a rule that the world must stand still when a hero dies.

“How much?”

The voice comes from behind you. The lights that illuminate the Hollywood sign are down to hide as much of the scorch marks as possible. You wouldn’t be able to see anything even if you did turn around, so you don’t.

You put some chapstick on, the glide of the balm against your wind chapped lips grounding.

“I said,” the Hero says, voice tightening, “How. Much.”

There’s the sound of gravel crunching now. They’re wearing heavy boots and the scent of fresh blood grows stronger the closer they get. Their breathing is smooth and even which means it’s not their blood.

You put the cap back on your chapstick and tuck it into your leather jacket’s inner pocket. “I don’t take money.”

“Then what do you take?” The Hero rounds the Y and comes into your line of sight. The dark hides most of their features, but you can make out a glittering gold mask and the dull shine of drying blood on their chest plate. Their breathing may be even, but their stance isn’t. They sway in place, back and forth, back and forth. Their arms wrap around their stomach. “I’ve got land. A house. You can have it.”

If your problem with a fic is "the characters are ooc" - then that's your point, not if they fuck or not. If you automatically think "relationship" equals "sanitised" (?) behaviour maybe work on your issues and get your head out of conservative heteronormative bog you're apparently stuck in.

And write your own shit if you don't like what others are writing. We are not your providers, you entitled little shits.

The most appealing concept possible for Voldemort's appearance is that the horcruxes affecting his features caused him to perform body mods to make it seem intentional. There's no reason for horcruxes to give him snake features specifically, that's absolutely a personal choice.

And when undoing horcruxes there's something so vulnerable of seeing those changes without the spooky dark lord corruption it was made to compliment. Like shaving (descaling?) a fursona to see the person underneath.

Bonus:

Harry receives a visit from a crush from his job at the ministry... they hated each other initially, but things developed in an unexpected way

It is not hard to link to your Tumblr or Twitter with a vague message like, “If you’re looking for my other works or other ways of supporting me, go here: link.” I have had people buy me coffees after enjoying my fic and asking where to support me. I threw up a link to my Tumblr and people cared enough to follow it. They were fully understanding when I explained in the comments that they could not commission me and I could not link them directly to any donation platform, but they could go to xyz link to read more. And they did! Nobody has to put AO3 directly on the firing line.

Go ahead and commission independently. Just do it anywhere else except on AO3. And then don’t come crying to the community when you, personally, get a C&D from a massive corporation.

AO3 is our bullet shield. Tumblr will pull your shit down. Wattpad won’t fucking protect you. LJ and FF.net already sold our asses for one (1) corn chip. AO3 is trying to protect us, you goddamn lemmings.

If you cannot follow the rules that protect fanspaces, you do not belong in our fanspaces.

It’s not just about the copyright.

There is a shitton of stories out there that are legal to monetise fanfiction of. Sherlock Holmes and Dracula are in the public domain now. You can write a Sherlock Holmes x Dracula crossover fic and host it on AO3.

You still can’t ask money for it on AO3. Do you know why?

BECAUSE IT’S AN AD-FREE SPACE AND WAS DESIGNED TO BE SUCH. IT BEING AN AD-FREE SPACE IS PART OF WHY IT BECAME SO SUCCESSFUL. THE ENTIRE STRUCTURE OF BEING FUNDED THROUGH DONATIONS AND NOT ADS IS IN SERVICE OF THAT. DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU GET TO BE THE EXCEPTION?

Insisting on inserting ads in it is like coming to a community garden that’s been maintained by volunteers for twenty years, a garden people visit specifically in part because it is a respite from the relentless hustle culture of modern cities, and trying to sell your shit there. It’s pissing in the well.

Majors in runes doing graffiti everywhere but it’s useful. Little runic sigils that might keep a bench warm, or create a light in a coat closet where administration will be replacing the “real” light spell “any day now.” Or will turn you lime green for an hour, to warn first years not to activate sigils they can’t identify.

Healing, potion, and magibotany majors recreating the “your field is just the applied version of my field”

Be polite to animals, they could be the Good Neighbors… or they could be the upperclassman you’ll need to ask for tutoring when midterms kick your ass.