#ReRe rambles

[petroltogo]

currently working on the next part of the flip a coin verse and i suspect i seriously underestimated how many strands and perspectives i want to fit into that beast. but slow progress is progress. if there are any povs you‘d like to see in that part, let me know! i can’t promise anything but my outline is still pretty flexible right now

[2knightt]

THIS NEW SET OF COLORS WHATTTT 😍😍😱😱🤯

WE LIKE OR WHATTTT!!!!😜😜😜😍😍😍

[charmedojamajo]

WAOF LIVE REACTIONS:

Chapter 6.

🩷🧡💙💜💛

The chapter opens with an author's note saying the original Chapter 6 was deleted which is funny since I had put my Chapter 5 post in my drafts and when I came back to it my internet dropped out when I saved it again so I thought I lost everything I added (which was most of the post!) Luckily it synced up lol.

This flashback has a lot of plot relevance and was definitely necessary to include in the story.

So here begins the hormonal Ojamajos as if they were written by some old men who don't know the first thing about them. But nope, just 12 year old girls who also don't know the first thing about them. Aiko bursting through the wall all cheery is funny tho.

Yet another bizarre scene, I don't even know which part I should clip in here. We have Momoko trying to... hit on Yabu??? I can't tell. And then he hits her with a frying pan after I steal yet another scene from a tv show (although this one is much harder to spot). Followed by Aiko fighting to get the frying pan back, and crying over how she wishes she could be normal (because, you know, hormones).

Not the knife song reference... But onomatopoeia works guys, I laughed out loud at the "thwang" lmfao, best word choice.

So we have Aiko and Leon sleep together to "fix" her hormones? Weren't they doing that in the last chapter when she found out she was pregnant? We had absolutely no idea what we were doing lol.

"Well, that's what happens when you mate with your mate!" Momoko said, adding the beans to the mince for the Nachos.

Why do I clearly remember writing this line?

dubcon? in waof? more likely than you think apparently 😬 (not to mention drunk leai sex)

Not my note at the end of the chapter saying "now we can finish chapter 7" girl did you start writing it BEFORE you made sure you didn't lose all of Chapter 6??

< ch5 | ch7 >

[magic-is-something-we-create]

Writeblr Re(rere)intro that's a year late!

Hi! I'm Pax, and I write Big Books that keep getting darker and darker in subject matter ����🎉

Basics about me:

he/him or they/them, Mid 20s

Favorite genres: Fantasy, SciFi, Horror, Mystery

Favorite authors: N. K. Jemisin, Tamsyn Muir, Brandon Sanderson, Pierce Brown, Samantha Shannon

Other things I do: Digital art (including commissions!), Twitch streams (usually art or writing sprints, occasionally video games), digital art assets and fonts (PWYW on Ko-Fi!)

Basics about my WIPs:

THE MILLENNIUM SAGA

High fantasy/Steampunk epic, 8 books planned. Book one: Firebreathers (160k words; ~700 pages) Book two: Echoseers (148k words; ~600 pages) Book three: Goddess-Touched (15k as of posting; 3rd attempt at drafting) First person, Multi POV What starts as a simple rebellion against their local Citylord becomes a flight - and fight - for their lives, as Ember Timber, their family, and their newfound friends are forced to flee overseas from the vengeful general who will stop at nothing to earn her Eternal King's favor, and will in fact relish hunting her own son and grandchildren for sport. But along the way, the crew learns that the Eternal King's immortality was not granted in return for his success as the Chosen One long ago, as they have always been told - and the sacrifice for such a thing is not only paid dearly in blood, but on its way to being repeated.

WHISPERS

Dark fantasy Noir. Currently with beta readers. 172k words; ~750 pages. First person, Dual POV. Set in the same world as Millennium Saga, ~5 years after the series concludes. Marika Swiftfoot owes her life to the Shadow of Fowden, the sorceress leader of a terroristic crime syndicate based in the north pole. When the man she once loved finally comes to collect on that life debt ten years later, she plans to kill him the moment it's safe. Too soon, after all, and everyone else she's ever loved will join him beyond the Veil. But hate isn't the only feeling that lingers between them, and when they're offered another way out of their debts, the lives of a few innocents looks like a bargain compared to the life of cruelty ahead of them. Lorelei has been hunting the Shadow for twenty years, and looking for the sister who disappeared for thirty. And here, names are legacies: she wants to earn Hopebringer before her legs give out for good, to erase the stain her father's name has left with Vowbreaker. And for that, she sees one way forward: she must never break her vows, no matter how small. The Shadow must die, and the Whispers with her. Her sister must be found, even if all that's left to find is a story. She must find answers for every case she takes on, even if she doesn't know so much as the name of the man who's gone missing.

THE LOST

Space opera webcomic. First scene fully illustrated; will release once the first chapter is complete, a week after Patrons receive the final scene. In the far reaches of space, the term "Media Empire" is quite literal; the Watchers have extended their influence throughout their galaxy filament with the help of their beloved Coliseum, and the Champion therein. After all, having a shapeshifter capable of replicating anything leads to some gruesome, spectacular fights, made all the more heartrending when they are the last of their kind, trapped in the ship molded from their kin's corpse. But while the Watchers have total control over what happens in the pit, they cannot predict the audience. And they certainly cannot predict the malfunctioning psychic implant of an assassin in the front row, and the loss of both opponents and a long-time prisoner of war to the escape.

I also post art of all of these semi-regularly, including in-progress stuff, as well as excerpts and rambling braindumps!! I'm also a huge worldbuilding nerd, so if you ever want to learn more about the worlds I'm writing, don't be afraid to ask!! I love talking about them :D

Boosts are appreciated <3 tell me about your own WIPs in the tags/replies/wherever!! I love learning about what people are working on!

[ilovedthestars]

Mal, aspec icon, and also reasons why I love Widdershins in general

So, as a birthday present to myself I recently bought physical copies of all ten currently available volumes of the webcomic Widdershins, and I’m currently rereading all of them from the beginning, and I’m just. Having emotions about it!! This post is part Widdershins propaganda (go read it) and part rambley thought dump on the parts I'm excited about on my reread. (I’ll try to stay away from major spoilers, but read at your own risk.)

A vague bit of context for anyone who knows nothing about Widdershins: Historical fantasy, set mostly in Victorian* England, centered on the fictional English town of Widdershins, which is the location of a magical “anchor” which is a source/amplifier of magic. Magical practitioners are called wizards (regardless of gender—witches also exist but are a very different thing) and the magic system revolves around summoning “spirits” of various emotions, and using/making deals with said spirits to imbue objects with magical properties. The tone is pretty light and adventure-y, and very fun. Every arc jumps back and forth between a few different sets of characters, but their paths all eventually cross.

(*technically slightly pre-Victorian. The ongoing and final installment is set during/around Victoria’s coronation. There’s also flashbacks, visits to other locales, and a Time Travel Episode)

The character I remember getting most attached to when I first read Widdershins, and the one I’m currently having the most emotions about on my reread, is Mal (aka O’Malley). First of all, I completely forgot that he’s canonically ace (and maybe aro)??** His significant relationships throughout his arcs are all close friends with found family vibes—when we first meet them, he and his longtime friend Wolfe have been traveling around Europe together for years, on what money they can earn from Wolfe’s busking (he plays violin) and Mal’s somewhat cheating at cards. Wolfe is an optimistic, calm and gentle person, and he clearly brings out the best in the very grumpy and abrasive Mal. They rely on each other, make sacrifices for each other, and generally have just such a lovely relationship--one thing I find particularly sweet is that it’s shown multiple times that listening to Wolfe’s violin playing helps Mal relax and makes him happy.

Pictured: Mal suggesting that Wolfe pacify a huge spirit of sadness by playing his violin, because "It works for me" ���� (In case my image turns out bad, here's a link to the actual comic page--I'm just excited about my physical copies!)

I’ve rambled before about “love as in significance” and how my favorite fictional relationships are ones where two characters are deeply important to each other, in a non-romantic and/or ambiguous way. To me Wolfe and Mal are a perfect example of that kind of deep friendship, effectively a life partnership, with no romance.

(**Widdershins also has multiple gay/lesbian characters, some of whom get romance arcs, and at least one canonically trans person. In Victorian England. There’s also a fair amount of non-white characters. I cannot stress enough how much this is just Not A Thing within the story. I believe the in-universe justification is that random magic ability evened the scales, and things like oppression and colonialism never got as bad as they did in our world. What it works out to is fun escapist adventures where homophobia and racism aren’t obstacles to the diverse cast, which is exactly my type of story. It’s definitely not trying to be historically accurate, but doesn’t get bogged down in modern labels, either.)

Mal also has a really satisfying character arc going on. He can see magical spirits, including the ones around people, and read their emotions—this is not a normal thing within this magical universe, and he mostly considers it a burden/annoyance, as it makes people (especially crowds) overwhelming. It turns out to be a whole thing, which I won’t spoil, but in my reread I just finished book 7, curtain call, which is the conclusion to the first big arc of Widdershins and includes a really cool flashback scene into Mal’s past. He’s got a whole thing going on where he makes some new friends, and eventually decides to stop running away from things. It’s really hard to talk about without spoiling, so I’ll just say that he’s still my favorite character and his arc is very strong.

Pictured: What it looks like when Mal sees spirits, and also another example of him being comforted by his friend's music. (Here's a link to the actual comic page)

Mal (and Wolfe) star in chapters 2 and 5, and feature prominently among a larger rotation of characters in chapters 7 and 9. The various chapters/books rotate through different sets of characters, but they're all lovable and you'll get attached to new characters quickly. Some other really fun characters from various Widdershins stories include:

Harriet “Harry” Barber, a bounty hunter who tracks down magical artifacts with the help of her magic-sniffing dog Gren (who she may or may not have stolen from the police)

Sidney Malik, who is cursed with accidental kleptomania (other people’s things just appear in his pockets, and he feels very bad about it). He got kicked out of wizard university for said kleptomania and is now pursuing his true passion of being a stage magician

Verity Cunningham, inventor slash bounty hunter slash Harry’s former-partner-turned-rival, and the greatest bounty hunter who ever lived, if she says so herself (which she will, loudly)

Lei Feng, who I can’t actually say anything about because all the coolest things about her are spoilers, but trust me she goes through some fun twists (she’s a magician’s assistant/inventor)

Alexa King, a baker with green hair who is going to Widdershins to win a baking competition in the year 2013, and if you’re wondering what this has to do with Victorian England and if it involves time travel shenanigans, yes, yes it does

Harry and Sid are the stars of the first chapter, and they're very close seconds to Mal in terms of my favorite cast members. If I have made this webcomic sound cool enough that you want to try it, please go check out their super fun story.

(P.S. A note about romance, since this post is partially about aspec things and i'm addressing it to my very aro corner of tumblr. Some of the chapters/characters in Widdershins have romance subplots, which never take up too much space in the story and are very well written in my opinion. I am someone who is super picky about romance in books, and I've rooted for every single romantic relationship in the comic--they're very sweet, and all built around two people who get along and are important to each other, as the friendships are. No forced romance or painful amatonormativity here.)

[ellietheyeen]

rambling about my ocs.

i don’t fully identify with the label ‘furry’, but i do like to draw anthro animals to represent myself and i thought i’d explain a bit. Some are far more significant than others, but I tend to create characters to represent specific feelings and emotions/ the different ways i think of myself. After that they tend to get a bit more seperate, their own backstories etc. but starting as bits of me.

Ellie the Hyena ^^ (they/she)  - The most ‘me’ character I use to represent myself the most often. Though.. more goofy and optimistic xD Made originally to represent myself to the world. Curiosity, humour, being without fear of filter.

Leo the Red Panda (he/him) - the grumpiest red panda possible. One eye, *former* optimist, tends to be tired. Works nights as a cleaner. He really loves his friends, but would never tell them that. Used to hang around junkyards/dumps a lot. Made originally to put all my cynicism, grumpiness, loyalty and practicallity into.

Wick the Dog (they/them (and rerely he)) - My very nervous puppy. They tend to be anxious and quiet. Wears hairbands on their left wrist to match their right arm pattern. Enjoys collecting retrotech. Leo and Ellie affectionatly call them ‘Mutt’. Original feelings are very personal, the character I’m most hesitant to share.

Nevermore the Black Jaguar (she/they/who cares) art by my friend Hoop - Shortened to Nev, she’s cis, but doesn’t really care about identifying with gender. She’s confident, intelligent, mischivious, silly, flirty, but only really talks around individuals or close friends. She’s in her own world a lot of the time, basically noctournal working as a programmer. Doesn’t really care about most things, not because of apathy, she’s just usually pretty satisfied! Leo’s best friend, they’ve known eachother since they were young. I made her originally to hold intelligence, problem solving and that very specific feeling of choosing not to overthink and just have fun sometimes.

I don’t draw them together too often, (especially Leo and Nev) but I think of them as all living togetrher in a small house in the city. There’s a few more characters who live in their ‘world’ Casey + Misha - Tanuki and Badger gay couple who own a board game cafe. Wren the Snow Leopard - An old OC of mine made for motivation, ambition and self reflection, but they don’t get drawn very much.

There’s more bits and pieces about. nsfw characters (not for tumblr), backstories, many unposted doodles, but this is pretty much the gist. If anyone wants to ask questions that’d be cool! Maybe a good way to get to know a few more people on here~

[tonystarktogo]

today for some reason inspiration struck me and i just scrolled through my embarrassingly full inbox and started answering random old asks that piqued my interest.

but i didn't post those answers. nope.

because in that moment self-doubt joined the conversation being all "hey, you're probably gonna drop off the face of tumblr for months after this one single time where you spam everyone who still pays attention to this blog and no one wants that" so i saved those responses as drafts instead.

because what is life without insecurities and self-made problems?

[deanwinchestertogo]

So I watched Venom on Friday and of course I loved it but I also had this moment of ‘Holy Shit This Could Be Dean And Cas’ when Eddie and V first started talking and now I cannot unsee it

[artisticcrow]

His belief and persevering care for his friends is amazing and touching even from afar parasocail way to see.

If I knew how to embed/clip, I would put that one clip where Wilbur was talking about Tommy messaging him everyday to make sure he got out of bed at least and talked to him. 

That is something that’s just, uh, good. If that makes any sense. It really shows how much he cares and helps those he cares about through his actions.

Anyway let’s get some Tommy positivity for those effected by Twitter rn

Tommy has got to be one of the greatest young content creators I’ve ever seen in years. The way he’s so kind and genuine while also being so damn funny is amazing. He lights up every room and call he’s in, and brings a lot of joy to the things he does. Even something as simple as playing Minecraft, he makes it so entertaining.

He’s been put under such a large spotlight by millions of people and the fact that he still manages to smile and try his best is commendable. We should be supporting and encouraging him as a community and not dragging him down constantly. Positive reinforcement is a hell of a lot more effective.

Feel free to add on if you’d like! I just think that we should try and bring more positive things to light, instead of talking about the negative stuff.

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #1: The Bluebird of Ishgard

Prompt: crux | Master Post | On AO3

This fill is a combination of both the FFXIV Write prompt, and a prompt from the Book Club server as posited by @pudgy-puk: “aymeric takes his date to The Fanciest ishgardian patisserie and drops an ABSURD amount of money.“

We are starting off FFXIV Write with EXACTLY MY BRAND! This takes place post 3.1 and references the events of my FFXIV Write 2019 fill, “Finally.”

Please enjoy!

--

Synnove hummed quietly to herself as she walked with Aymeric through the streets of Ishgard, her right hand tucked into the crook of his elbow. His own right hand gently covered hers, and every few moments he softly rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. A silly grin tugged at her lips every time he did, a flush of pleasure rising on her cheeks.

Aymeric had arrived at Fortemps Manor shortly after lunch, dressed down in simple leathers and that fur-lined leather coat he had worn that day not-so-long ago when she and Galette had run into him shopping along the Jeweled Crozier. He had asked for the pleasure of her company on a leisurely walk through the city—“I am not yet allowed the more strenuous exercise of the sparring ring,” he had said ruefully, a twinkle in his ice blue eyes, “but I am, thankfully, allowed to stretch my legs on daily walks.”—and after being subjected to a frantic wardrobe change by Rere (“We’re in a relationship! I don’t need to impress him! And why is this skirt in my size?” “Shush, be glad I’m always prepared on your behalf, and wear this sweater with it! Oooooh and the green shawl Heron made for you, I have the perfect pin to go with it.” “Rereha!”), she had been out the door with him, hand in hand.

Their leisurely ramble had taken them through parts of the city Synnove hadn’t visited, or had only walked through or by once or twice. Neighborhoods of the minor or vassel houses; the district where the merchants and burgeoning nouveau riche dwelled. Small parks carefully tended to preserve some green within the limits of the city; statues of minor saints and folk heroes of the Dragonsong War; a street lined on either side by greenhouses, the area bristling with dragonkillers. Aymeric had a story for each place: here was where a childhood friend had lived, before his family had moved out of the city; that was the house of his mother’s least favorite cousin, whom social propriety had declared Mama still had to entertain; there was he played at knights and dragons most often; that was the saint for whom his father—“The one who raised me.”—had been named.

She had enjoyed listening to him speak, his tone shading equally with fondness or wistfulness or, in the case of his mother’s least favorite cousin, palpable disdain. They so rarely had moments of quiet, never mind such moments together, and the opportunity to learn more about his home through his eyes had been an honor. She was sorry for the outing to end.

Except, instead of taking the turn that would lead them back the Fortemps Manor, Aymeric began to lead them in the direction of the Jeweled Crozier and all its myriad shops. Synnove made a questioning sound, looking up at him.

Aymeric grinned at her and kissed her forehead. “My lady was kind enough to accompany me about Ishgard in the cold, without complaint,” he said cheerfully, “and listen to me ramble besides. The least I can do is provide her some refreshment and something hot to drink in return.”

She laughed in delight, and pushed herself to her toes to kiss his cheek. “It was my pleasure to walk with you today,” she said, “but I’ll not refuse the offer of a treat. Lead on, my knight.”

The main thoroughfares were busier than the side streets, and the pair garnered some attention as the Lord Commander and a Warrior of Light, though blessedly no one approached them. Aymeric turned them down onto the lane that housed most of the Pillars’ cafes and bakeries, and Synnove’s stomach rumbled at the enticing aromas of coffee and bread and sugar that perfumed the air here.

He took them past the places where she and her friends often supped, past even the cafes about which Emmanellain waxed poetic. The traffic thinned as they walked, the businesses becoming more exclusive, the displays of pastries and menus becoming more elaborate and frankly obscene. Synnove looked around in growing surprise, her eyebrows rising, even as Aymeric continued to smile, secretive and mischievous.

Finally, they stopped in front of a patisserie in whose window was a display of éclairs so decadent that Synnove reflexively swallowed the saliva suddenly flooding her mouth. The choux was so fluffy it looked as if it was about to float, the chocolate icing thick and so dark is seemed to gleam black in the shop’s light. Some were left plain, but others hinted at the flavor of the cream or custard within each: candied orange peels; coffee beans; halved strawberries; roasted chestnuts. She swallowed again and glanced up at the placard over the shop’s door.

A simple bluebird in flight, holding a sprig of mint, was the only hint at the patisserie’s identity.

Synnove felt the color drain from her face. “Aymeric…”

Aymeric raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles and she turned to look at him. He was smiling, the rogue, as brilliant and joyous as when they had first kissed after retaking the Vault mere weeks ago. “Let me spoil you,” he purred.

For a few heartbeats she was absolutely torn: the tiny five-year old watching her parents and aunt count every gil to make the week’s earnings feed six people, along with the frugal adult who owned her own home, at war with the same tiny five-year old who loved sweets of all sorts and the hopeless romantic who secretly wished to have someone dote on her without reservation. “Refreshments and something hot to drink” at the most exclusive, most expensive patisserie in Ishgard. Not even Rereha, with her near bottomless trust fund interest, had wandered this far down the lane…though in fairness to Rere, that more due to being perfectly content with a coffee and croissant at the first shop that caught her eye.

Synnove chewed on her bottom lip, glancing back and forth between Aymeric and the Bluebird. Finally, sugar and romance won out. “All right,” she said, only a little bit weakly.

Her knight kissed her knuckles once more, and without further ado, led her inside.

The scent of cooking sugar sent her stomach growling again and as Aymeric helped her shrug out of her heavy winter coat, she looked around with wide eyes. Éclairs, macarons, petit fours, madeleines, opera cakes, mille-feuille, bavarois of all sorts—there were more types of cakes and cookies and tarts on display then she could name. She let Aymeric lead her to her a table—the only one in the shop—and as she took her seat, she saw one of the staff quickly dart over to the door and flip the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed.’ She whipped her head around to stare at Aymeric as he sat.

He reached for her hands and she let him take them, her knuckles going white as she squeezed. Raising her hands, he kissed the back of her right, and then her left, quietly murmuring, “It’s all right, my love,” he said with a wry grin. “Anyone who wants to enjoy the Bluebird’s delights on premise must make a reservation ahead of time to ensure the table will be free.”

Synnove narrowed her eyes and hissed, “How long have you been planning this?”

“Not that long,” he said cheerfully. “A fortnight, perhaps.”

They let go of one another as a server brought them cups of coffee in surprisingly plain white mugs, heavy and thick to keep the liquid hot for as long as possible. As the server stepped away to flit back behind the counter, Synnove stretched her leg beneath the table and hooked her ankle around Aymeric’s. He beamed and raised his coffee to take a sip, and she followed suit.

She purred at the first taste. It was a dark roast, rich and flavorful, and roasted so carefully there was no hint of bitterness. While she would always love the coffeehouses of Limsa Lominsa best, there were more than a few cafes in her seaside home that could stand to take a lesson from the Bluebird in coffee brewing. Without cream or sugar, it would be the perfect compliment to the sugary delights of the pastries.

Aymeric smiled at her over his mug, and that was when the first of the treats arrived.

Éclairs, four of them, cut in to make for easier sharing, and to show off the flavored fillings within: one vanilla, one chocolate, one coffee, and one strawberry.

Synnove’s eyes went wider. She had never seen a pastry so generously filled before; the sight was actually borderline obscene, and the part of her mind where a facsimile of Rereha lived was dying to make a crude joke. She raised her eyes to meet Aymeric’s and he actually waggled his eyebrows at her.

She burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hands to try and stifle the sound, shoulders shaking. Aymeric joined her, his own laugh slightly softer, though it came from deep in his belly.

“You took that far better than Mama ever did,” he said as they calmed. “I hadn’t the faintest idea of just what Da meant by it until I was fourteen, but Mama slapped his arm every time and turned red as a tomato.”

Synnove smiled and warmth suffused her, as it did whenever Aymeric offhandedly spoke of Rolandoix and Gwenaëlle de Borel. It was such a joy and honor to have these pieces of his past shared with her. “Did they come here often?” she said, eyes on Aymeric as she reached for a half of the vanilla éclair.

“Four times a year,” he said, eyes going distant as he reminisced. “Our birthdays, and their wedding anniversary. It was one of the few frivolities they allowed themselves, and one of the few times of year they would spoil me rotten!” He grinned, a touch sad recalling his parents, before he shook his head and gestured to her. “And here I am on the cusp of becoming maudlin, and when I wish to be spoiling you. Eat!”

She laughed, and raising the éclair to her mouth, took a bite.

Almost immediately she moaned in rapture. Oh, but the choux was as wonderfully fluffy and cloudlike as it had appeared, practically melting on her tongue. The icing was a truly sinfully dark chocolate, bittersweet and more like a ganache than she had anticipated. And the crème, oh sweet gods, the crème. She was used to vanilla being a light flavor, delicate and easily overwhelmed, but this was so intensely concentrated it was more than a match for the chocolate icing.

She opened her eyes—when had she closed them?—and stared at Aymeric with wonder. His smile was equal parts delight and lasciviousness as he took a bite of the chocolate éclair. He chewed, swallowed, and drawled out, “Now, aren’t you glad you let me treat you?”

Synnove nodded frantically, finishing her bite with a swallow, and the popped remainder of her vanilla éclair into her mouth, another happy moan escaping her as she did. The chocolate, coffee, and strawberry éclairs were just as intensely flavored, exploding on her tongue in a riot of sensation, but the vanilla remained her favorite of the set.

From there they were served an entire tasting menu of the Bluebird’s finest treats. Palmiers were next, crispy and light and absolutely decadent when dipped into her coffee. Opera cake followed, the layers of buttercream, almond sponge cake soaked in coffee liqueur, and coffee ganache melding together that her toes curled in her boots and Aymeric had to laughingly fend off her fork with his own when she tried to steal a piece of his opera cake when hers was gone. Meringues were fourth, lighter than air, and slices of traditional fig bavarois fifth, the jelly bright and smooth. Then an assortment of flavored macarons, then mille-feuile, then buttery madeleines, and on and on and on, with heavy, rich desserts alternated with light, simpler fare.

Each pastry was exquisitely made, the quality of ingredients and care of the craftsmanship shining through. She didn’t bother to hide any of her appreciative hums or groans, and while Aymeric’s eyes flashed every time she did, the staff of the Bluebird, when she caught sight of them, wore large, delighted smiles of their own, rightfully proud to have a new customer so enjoy their hard work. Even better than the wonderful desserts, though, was the knowledge that it was Aymeric who had wanted to share something he considered special with her, and continue following the traditions of his family.

After all, she thought, pleasure suffusing her at the thought: it was exactly a moon today since the attack on the Vault, and the night they had confessed their feelings for one another.

The servers cleared away the last plates and refilled their coffee mugs, and Synnove sat back with a content sigh, cradling her mug in her hands. “Thank you for this, Aymeric,” she said, beaming at him. “I am well and truly spoiled.”

Aymeric smiled at her and hooked their other ankles together so that they were a tangle of limbs beneath the table. “I’m glad,” he said, voice soft. And then his smile turned cheeky. “But we’re not done quite yet…”

His gaze was somewhere behind her shoulder, and she turned to follow it. Approaching them with a tray in hand was a plump, stately elezen matron wearing the traditional garb of a culinarian, a bluebird embroidered over her heart. Synnove guessed she must be Madame Iriene, the owner and chief pastry chef of the Bluebird.

Madame Iriene stopped next to their little table and gave a half bow. “By request,” she said, a sly look in her eye, “a special finale in honor of the Lord Commander’s lady.”

Synnove blinked in shock, glancing askance at Aymeric. His smile widened.

Madame Iriene set the tray between them, revealing its contents: two plates, each with three pastries arranged in a neat row.

The first was small pudding pie, topped with a dollop of fresh whipped cream. The second was a soft bun, golden brown and delicious, smelling ever so faintly of apples. The third was a trio of three caramels, unusually darkened, and sprinkled with red flakes on top.

Synnove stared at them, mouth going dry. These—these were—

“A chocolate pudding pie, its crust made of crushed chocolate cookies,” Madame Iriene began to list, “topped with mint-infused whipped cream. A soft bread bun, stuffed with apples spiced with cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, and star anise. Caramels, infused with coffee and dragon pepper.”

Tears pricked at her eyes and Synnove set her coffee down so she could once more bring her hands to her mouth.

Galette. Tyr. Ivar.

Representations of exactly how the aether around each of their summoning foci tasted to her senses.

Aymeric made a concerned noise and Synnove looked up at him as her tears overflowed. “Synnove, are you all right?” he said gently, reaching for her. “My apologies, I overstepped—”

She lunged forward (Madame Iriene darted out of the way with the dexterity of a woman thirty years younger), grabbing Aymeric’s face between her hands, and kissed him for all she was worth. He grunted in surprise, frozen for a moment, before he brought his hands up to cup her shoulders and return her kiss with a relieved laugh.

“Thank you,” she said in between kisses and the occasional teary hiccup. “Thank you, thank you, I can’t believe you remembered, I babbled about it moons ago, I didn’t even know anyone was paying attention—”

“How could I not pay attention?” her knight said, drawing back to look at her with pure adoration. “It’s you, and something important to you.”

Synnove sniffled, overwhelmed. She had already made a claim on him, and he on her, a moon ago, but this? As far as she was concerned, he was hers, and she was his.

Forever.

[petroltogo]

It’s done.

About 42’000 words split in 7 chapters.

Somehow I’ve managed to finish writing the last part of [this could’ve been] a villain’s grand master plan in these last two and a half weeks.

I still have to edit everything, which will be a small nightmare, but doable so regular updates are a thing that will happen from now on.

Next chapter will be up this Friday and after that I’ll post a new one every week.

In the meantime would you be interested in snippets and cut parts?

[2knightt]

I’m so sorry ur ex is tryna get back at u ☹️ if u need any help for being mean ur girl right here 💁‍♀️✋

LFMAOOOOO thank u rere😜😜 knew the girlboss had my back frl😍

[petroltogo]

In case anyone still checks on this dusty old blog: yes I’m alive and still plan to continue my various works. I did however take a (longer than anticipated) break from writing because there’s been a lot going on these last months and, frankly, I didn’t have the energy to be creative.

Lately though things are finally calming down and this last week I’ve been working on the next chapter for [this could’ve been] a villain’s grand master plan.

Still got a couple thousand words to go, but it’s looking good.

And by ‘good’ I mean characters that were supposed to be cameos at most are taking over entire scenes yes Chrome, I’m looking at you but what else is new.

[petroltogo]

Currently making the best of my holidays by writting the last chapters of [this could've been] a villain's master plan. If things work out the way I'm hoping I might have a regular updating schedule for it too.

One thing I can tell you already is that the chapter count is going up. There's just too much going on to stuff it all in three more chapters. I'm currently planning to focus on a smaller character count in future installments but I already know that's not gonna work for the next one since that will finally get us to the conclusion of the first arc.

After that though? Lots of possibilities I’m interested in exploring.

(And yeah, I now have concrete plans for the 10th Gen, they’re absolutely gonna become a part of this verse)

[2knightt]

YOU GOT A JOB OMGGGG MY BBY IS A BIG KIDDD CONGRATS BOOO

LMFAOOOOO THANK U RERE😍😍😍 IM BLUSHING SO JARD

[2knightt]

rmbr the time where u wrote model!reader, and how pony would have a bookmark of reader I bet one of the gang members (two-bit or Steve… maybe even dally) anyways I bet they caught tht bookmark so Ik they gaslight him with tht when they want smth from pony😭

LMFAOOOO THEY WOULDDDDD

“ponyboy, gimmie a cigarette.”

“no? get your own, steve.”

“i’ll tell everyone about your special little bookmark if you don’t.”

“how do you even know about that?— jesus, fine, here!”

“thank you, pony.”