#editing and dialogue wise

[moonfromearth]

The mini animal squad is investigating the ranch's newest resident... Much to her dismay.

[transcript under cut]

Lorenz: Who's this? Annabelle: I'm not sure.. I think they're a really big goat, but they don't look like you and Mocha. Perhaps they're a cow? I've never seen a cow but they could be one. Thunder: *wakes up* This... I don't like this.

[vendriin]

Vampire Elder Amelia -

Underworld: Evolution (2006)

[skrunksthatwunk]

update i've written like. 3k words of the goromi encounter chapter tonight (for this fic). gonna keep at it but i thought y'all should know: yes it's been like 3 weeks, no i haven't forgotten about it. she's been marinating. i've been cooking up some good shit though and i'm SO SO SO excited to finally be getting to some parts of the outline that i just realized y'all aren't aware of yet. hehehehooohoo >:)))))

anyway hopefully it should be done within a couple days :3!!! thanks to everyone for their support so far, i swear i'll respond to the comments eventually. i look at them and giggle likee. embarrassingly often lol

[erythristicbones]

ive done next to no editing on my book for several months now bc mental illness sucks, BUT ive written like 4 paragraphs today. i am clawing my way back into productivity

[lieutenant-amuel]

I’m editing the old chapters of WBTL again. The fourth chapter, and oh my goodness Ángel is so insensitive, it’s insane.

[cripplecharacters]

Hey! I have a deaf character, and I’m not sure how to especially do dialogue grammar wise. I usually use ‘She signed “how are you?”’

This is obviously a very basic example sentence, but I was wondering are there better ways to write this? Should I be using dialogue tags? I’ve heard of some people doing

‘She signed how are you?’

But I don’t want that to be confused with inner thoughts, because that’s the same style I use for inside thoughts like—

‘I can’t believe she would do that. She thought to herself.’

I’ve also heard of (I think) ‘She signed <<how are you?>>’

Is this something of importance to the Deaf community? I might post this work eventually on here, and she’s one of my main characters that drives the plot forward. I don’t want to disrespectful! I usually use dialogue tags out of convenience, but I can switch it up in my edits if there’s a better and more respectful way to do it!

Hi!

Regular dialogue marks are just fine! The “signed” dialogue tag should cover it. :) [smile face]

(I have seen some books write in ASL GLOSS but this is generally clunky to audiences who don’t know ASL, and, if the author isn’t fluent in ASL, usually wrong.)

You also don’t need to just limit yourself to “signed”. Once you’ve established that your character signs, you can use whatever you want. (If she uses multiple modes of communication, just clarify which one she’s using in which scene / when she switches modes.)

[phantomarine]

Clam's Quick Tips for Starting Your Very First Webcomic

Howdy! Here are the three bits of advice I tend to give people who ask me about getting into webcomic-making. Maybe they can help you jump into the fray with a little less fear.

1) Make Your First Chapter a Pilot Episode

You will be told by webcomic veterans to start with a short, simple comic idea first - which is wise - but if all you can think about is your big magnum opus, then you might as well hop in, right? Otherwise you'll just be glancing back at the other cooler project forever.

But if you can't start with a small simple story, start on a small, simple part of that larger story. Your first chapter should be a snapshot of the main conflict - show us a simple scene with few characters, ease us in slowly, keep things clear and focus on emotion/impact/clarity. Get the audience to care by offering something easily digested, but full of promise.

Once you're done with that 'pilot' chapter, and you're feeling more comfortable with the whole comic process, you can open the gates and show us the larger world. At that point, you'll be way more ready.

2) Simplify Your Art Style For Your Own Sanity

Always try to make your webcomic's art style as simple as possible - the standard rule is to use only 75% of your artistic skill for every comic page you make. Otherwise you will burn out quickly and terribly.

But you also need to be PROUD of your art style. If you're really feeling itchy, add a couple bells and whistles to your style so you can look at the finished page and say "Yeah, looks cool." You'll find the right balance the more you draw.

Also, don't be afraid to change your art style as you go along. Ultimate consistency is often impossible in webcomics anyway - so embrace your desire to try new things, streamline your work, whatever you feel needs to happen to be happiest. Sometimes the coolest part of reading a webcomic is noticing that style change - so don't hesitate to embrace it!

3) Resist the Reboot! RESIST!

The curse/blessing of drawing the same things over and over is that you'll inevitably get better at drawing those things. The trouble comes when you look back at old stuff and start thinking "Damn, I could draw that way better now."

You must recognize that this feeling never goes away. Not after a hundred pages. Not after three hundred. Not after a thousand.

I think everyone should be allowed one soft reboot for their first webcomic. Redraw some panels that bother you. Change up some dialogue if it doesn't make sense with your new story ideas. Do maintenance, basically. One of the beauties of webcomics is that they can be easily edited, without reprinting a whole book or remaking a whole game.

But if the ultimate purpose of a webcomic is to tell a story, then constant reboots will just be retelling the same story - slightly better each time, but the same at its core. We've heard it before. Most audiences would rather you save your strength and just keep going, rather than circling back year after year and going "Wait wait wait! I'll do it better this time."

Reboot early, not often, and only when you absolutely must! You're a storyteller, and you're constantly getting better at telling your story. Don't be ashamed of it - look back how much ground you've covered, and keep walking!

---

That's a good start. Happy webcomicking - don't be afraid to jump in, but be prepared to learn a lot very quickly. And if this advice doesn't work for you or adhere to how you did it, that's absolutely fine - webcomics are diverse by nature, and so are their creation processes. Feel out what works best for you, and good luck!

[zexapher]

A Schnee Knows to Make Wise Investments

And Weiss is more than happy to follow through. Happy birthday, Jaune!

That said, let’s be honest here, Klein was always Weiss’ true father figure. And then came Jaune. Jacques may have been Weiss’ father, but he certainly wasn’t her daddy. Weiss and Jaune have really come so far. Amazing that their relationship is really budding now, let alone that this is actually plausible dialogue.

This meme was inspired by and adapted from a post on reddit by u/MalloYallow and the subsequent comments by u/Akumu_Oukoku and u/WeakLandscape2595 which may be found here. Cheers to them for being such fun people!

I quite enjoyed putting together panel 3 for this one, especially redrawing Jaune’s arms after cutting Ren and Yang out of the image he came from. It really shows the progress I’m making in improving my editing, since it was so much quicker and easier than that time I redrew Jaune's arms for the Therapist Ozpin meme I made like 9 months ago.

Anyway, hope you all enjoy!

[fallstaticexit]

Mama bears, Lyric and Kris are checking out a new after school program for their son, Mateo. The thing Lyric loves about the city life is all the diversity there. Putting Mateo's needs first is her biggest priority. At first she was concerned if the program would be a sensory hellscape for Mateo but their 9 year old found a way to express his interest in something new. ....and then Lyric got a text from her mother. Great.

Lot Credit 💜 Ty, it’s stunning!

Note: So I've actually decided I am going to make Missing Moments a spin off series of COTF that shows the very human and Briar-esque life of the rest of the Briar family! Some events will tie with COTF appropriately and there may be an easter egg or two but MM is it's own thing. I have no real plan per say plot wise, this is semi gameplay driven like the original Briar Legacy on TikTok was and I plan to update between COTF posts, much like my Quinn save. There will be a lot of flashbacks and filling in gaps for the Briars over their life , hence the Missing Moments. We also see some beloved characters return in these flashbacks as I flesh out their stories. So sit back and relax and enjoy the ride with me! These take very little editing and dialogue so updates may be frequent and I may post twice a day even. Just be sure to check out the Missing Moments tag in my pinned post <3 :)

Prev/Next / Extras

[signanothername]

WAAA not really an ask but just wanted to say your storytelling is a huge huge inspiration to me! I've always sorta struggled with that sorta thing and you're stuff gives me motivation to try!! Also I love how u draw killer it's so... him

ABBSHSHAAAAAA THANK YOU SOB

AND IM SO GLAD IT GIVES YOU MOTIVATION TO TRY!! Cause the funny thing is, storytelling is something that i also really struggle with, but not necessarily art wise, so like, when I make comics I can easily imagine what the art would be like and how it would flow, but once I reach the dialogue? I get stuck BIG time, it’s like I can imagine what i want, but I struggle with how to word it if that makes sense, words are just so hard to think of for me vhhchchc

So what i usually do is make the dialogue in two parts, first i’d I write everything I have in mind down, without thinking whether it makes sense or if it suits the character, and once i got everything written down, then i start actually refining it and thinking about the little details like whether this character would actually say that, or if it makes sense or if it’s better for the flow of the story

Sometimes, I know what I want the dialogue to be, but I struggle a lot with how i want the words to go, for example, the “little life update” comic

I struggled a LOT with the dialogue for that one, here are a few examples of dialogue I removed, changed, added and edited

I originally had Killer say “I get easily overwhelmed” before I changed it to “it gets overwhelming”

It’s such a small change but for me, it makes a very big difference, cause Killer usually feels detached from himself, so it just didn’t make sense to me that he would use “I” in regards to his own emotions, so I changed the dialogue so it would match Killer’s detachment and used “it” instead

Here I originally had the entire dialogue to be “monsters and Determination don’t mix well” followed by “ I mean my body’s already suffering from it”, but when I reread it, not only did it make the flow of the comic awkward and jumpy, but it also made me think “literally everyone in the Undertale fandom knows that I don’t need to reiterate it to them like they’re stupid”

Here I decided to add “but you already knew that” to the og dialogue, to further emphasize Nightmare’s manipulation of Killer

Here I removed an entire sentence saying “cause it’s not like you truly cared about my wellbeing” cause it felt a bit too spiteful even for Killer (who’s extremely spiteful bdhdhsh) and it gave the vibe Killer wanted Nightmare to care about him, which is not what I wanted to imply at all

And then the biggest change, the last few panels, the og dialogue and the one I used are completely different, and it’s mostly just me not knowing how to end the comic originally, but then when i reread it I realized that 1- Killer wouldn’t care about Nightmare’s feelings of loneliness when he barely understands his own emotions, 2- the dialogue felt extremely out of place with the rest of the comic, and 3- this comic wasn’t about Nightmare, it was about Killer and I needed to keep it that way

Anyway sorry for rambling about it but it genuinely makes me happy to see people loving my storytelling when i struggle a lot with it hahahaha

AND THANK YOU! Killer is my son and I just want to do him justice, glad to see so many people loving the way I write him EEEEEEEE

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

things I do to unstick my book

(I’m a pantser!)

Ask if this scene really needs to be a scene or if I can just summarize it

Ask if this summary really needs to be summary or if I need more scene

Write a very focused, very pretty sentence

Circle back a couple scenes & ask if one of them is causing “symptoms” later in the book

Get in and get out (push through a tough scene as fast as possible & then run forward and fast like wind to the next bit)

Add an exciting element (a new character, a change of location, other… things ;))

Pause and revise if I’m feeling destabilized

Be specific about what I DON’T like (example: I can’t get past this scene because the dialogue is so mechanical instead of “ahhh I hate it all”)

Read what I last wrote aloud (to hopefully sink into some momentum) OR get a robot to read it to me

Try a teeny tiny writing sprint (1-5 minutes of nonstop writing)

Write a flashback (bonus points if it’s connected emotionally or plot-wise to the fictive present)

Read from a literary godparent (this is when you pull out the books/stories/poems etc that make you excited about writing!)

Write or brainstorm every possible direction of a scene (sometimes grueling, sometimes worth it)

Sit and think (in a bathtub, on a walk—try to immerse yourself in your story like you’re a random character who got plopped in there; what do you see?)

Method write

Find a word that excites you and use that in your next scene

Double check if you’re hitting the right story beats (or if you skipped one, spent too long on one, spent too little on one, etc)

Write “bare bones” and come back to fine tune it later (similar to get in and get out)

Write with your eyes closed (be warned of incomprehensible text if you can’t type with closed eyes)

Break down your causal chain bit by bit (even the boring parts) and see if there’s a broken link. Then delete the boring parts (sometimes we just need to see how EXACTLY we got to a place and how EXACTLY that leads us to the important bit--I find I missed something critical when I do this).

Rely on crutch words, boring details & trust you can edit it later (sometimes the idea of perfection in draft 1 can be unproductive)

Ask a friend to read the work & tell you what they think (sometimes we need help; writing is hard)

Ask a friend for a compliment read (sometimes we just need to be hyped up)

Change the tense (temporarily & be warned that different tenses may require different approaches when drafting, I only do this when I’m not sure what else to try)

Talk myself through the problem as if I’m talking to a friend (I pull up my notes and literally start typing: “so I’m struggling with XYZ scene right now for XYZ reason and I don’t know what to do. What if XYZ happened, or what if I changed XYZ?”)

Take a break—sometimes I’m just tired/burnt out/not in the mood to write (that’s okay!)

I post more tips I’ve picked up along the way on youtube!

[queers-gambit]

Petitions

[ series masterlist ]

prompt: your family returns to Kings Landing to hear petitions regarding your brother's legitimacy.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!Velaryon!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: (this got away from me at) 11.3k+

note: i tweaked the timeline in the show a bit to match my own timeline. also it's long, but i need time to plan the next part(s). i hope this suffices!

warnings: spoilers, cursing, (poorly written) smut. basically when Aemond's in the training yard and the court scene. potentially too detailed but that's intentionally for the readers who don't watch the show. descriptions of violence, just a bit more background - marking this as fluff? it's pure filler? again, not edited, canon-level incest, dialogue. ❗️major season one, episode eight spoilers

His gaze followed you around your shared room, smirking at your nervous, jerking movements. "You know we've maids for this kind of thing, my love. And you've cleaned three times this night already, I do believe it is as spotless as it will get, sweet girl."

"Okay, well, it's just not right, yet," you rushed, sighing to yourself as you rearranged the pillows on your bed again. "'S just not right, not right, 's gotta be right," you muttered to yourself under your breath.

"Why's that, pet?"

"It's just not, Aemond, please - stop questioning me!"

His hands rose in mock defense from his place in the carved, wooden chair beside the table and before the hearth, watching you for a few more minutes as you moved like a tornado. You picked things up and rearranged them somewhere new. When your busy body moved towards the table he sat at with a pile of books in your hand, he reached out swiftly and wrapped both arms around you - making you briefly panic. He pulled you to his lap, leaving little room for you to wiggle free.

"Aemond - "

"Ease yourself, my sweet wife," he spoke smoothly, loosening his hold to let you turn comfortably on his lap. "The room is absolutely spotless, you need not worry for a thing. And you've been barking at the servants all week to clean the other chambers, I promise, things are where they need to be."

You sighed and leaned over to set the books to the table, picking up his goblet when your hand was free, and leaning your back to his chest. "I do not bark, and you'd stand well not to mock me," you muttered softly, taking a sip of sweet wine.

"I do not mean to," he sighed, nuzzling the skin in front of your ear as you sat somewhat sideways on him. "You are worrying for nought, my sweet love. Please, ease yourself, my busy bee."

"My mother's coming to the Red Keep, Aemond," you refused, head shaking to swirl tresses of silver-white hair. "And it will be the first time in years I've seen her. Please, I only want her to see that we can keep house and feel as if she's raised a proper lady - who knows how to be a wife."

"You do realize it is not our responsibility, sweets, for this is not technically our house," he muttered against your temple, placing a kiss there as you drained his goblet. "It's my mother's house to keep, and she does, so you do not need to worry yourself. Besides, they are not going to stay in our chambers."

"I know," you sighed, finally deflating against his chest. "I just want things in place. I feel in place when things are proper and away."

"They are," he assured softly, letting you lean back into him with a snuggly arm around you. He reached for your goblet and extended his arm to set it to the table's top. "Are you going to meet them?"

"Yes, of course," you assured, reaching up to gently pet his jaw as you pressed your forehead to his neck. "You are to train, are you not?"

He sighed softly, "This morn, pet, yes."

"Will you join us after?" You pouted lightly. "Before we are to hear Lord Vaemond?"

"Perhaps it is not wise for us to visit with your mother before the proceedings," Aemond admitted before he pondered a moment and decided to adjust his answer. "Or at least... It is not wise for me."

"We shall see," you sighed softly, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw as you understood why the meeting would make him uncomfortable. "But you are excused, my love, if that's what you are looking for."

He chuckled, "Hmm, all right. Thank you, my sweet girl. You will find me after, won't you?"

"Oh! Do not tell me it is time to rise already? I have only just sat."

"'Tis time to depart, actually, yes," he mused, leaned in to kiss your lips. You whined lightly, keeping hold of his cheek as your lips adjusted against his; his breathing deepening when his hands tightened their hold on your hips; readjusting your hips so that both legs laid over his lap in a straddle.

"Aemond," you warned half-heartedly when he began to ease you back and forth over his lap, rocking you over his growing bulge.

He sighed, "What if we did not leave this room? Hmm? For the day?"

"We have to, because we are responsible and lead by example," you chuckled lightly, letting your tongue lick over his bottom lip.

"You're not making a valid case, pet," he returned your laughter, tightening his hands so they jolted into your ribs. You lurched forward with laughter, incidentally grinding over on his lap; the both of your breaths catching when he pressed you downward.

"Aemond," you now moaned softly, brows furrowed in concentration as your hands held his jaw and neck for balance. "You know we're needed in the courtyards."

"I think we've a moment or two," he muttered against your lips, breathing the same breath as he lead you back and forth, back and forth, back and forth over his lap. His hips stiffened to raise slightly, fighting back his moan when his cock rode up into your weeping hole. "You vex me, woman," he chuckled breathily, letting his tongue dart out to flex over your neck. "How the Gods have blessed me."

"We will be late, my love," you giggled lightly. "Your mother already blames me for your new late attendance record."

He smirked at you, letting your manicured hand caress his jaw; reveling in the warmth from your fingers, "But you are the reason for our late arrivals, pet. You're irresistible."

"Maybe you're just insatiable."

"Hmm," Aemond considered with a smirk, letting your lips pucker to pepper kisses around his jaw and chin. "Are you trying to distract me, my love? I hate to admit it might be working."

"Perhaps I'd only like to savor another moment with my husband before duty holds our obligations the rest of the day."

He nodded and let his hands fall to the meat of your arse, "Fair point... Should we go back to bed then, my sweet wife?"

"Do not tempt me with a good time," you mocked him, making him laugh and lean forward to peck your lips. "Come," you finally sighed sadly.

"Yeah, all right, c'mon. Mother needs one of her children to be responsible," he agreed, letting you raise off his lap to move around the table so he had room to stand. After taking time to finish getting ready, you both laced on your boots and moved out the door. Like a gentleman, Aemond escorted you to the front landing-courtyard, where you would wait for your mother's envoy; and after a kiss to your lips and a muttered, "I love you," your husband was leaving you there to head for his training session with Ser Criston Cole, Queen's Guard.

In truth, the knight was always polite to you, but you saw his glare when he thought he was concealed. Funny how people think themselves invisible, but in reality, they are glaringly obvious. Your mother had once told you the truth behind the drama she and Cole found themselves in from years ago, and while it wasn't your place to offer judgement, it was obvious now that Cole had never forgiven your mother. Being her daughter, you were the next best thing to take his anger out on. Yet he favored your husband and his obvious skill, so, you were merely endured.

You waited only a few moments before the front gates opened and your mother's carriage was lead into the courtyard, making you perk up; straighten up; hands clasping in front of you as your shoulders straightened. You wanted to show her that she had raised you right and she need not worry - because you were a proper Targaryen lady whilst under the Hightower's heel.

One of the stationed guards called in announcement, "All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne."

"Mother," you sighed to yourself with sweet relief.

"And her royal consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen!"

"Princess," a maid approached you with hurried steps and a flustered face, "you're needed - "

"Not now," you insisted, wanting to see your mother and nothing more. Even a glance - a simple glimpse of her would suffice right now. You had missed her gravely.

"Please, it is Kasta, Princess - she grows restless and aggressive," the servant rushed in worry. You sighed, nodding at her; taking the skirts of your dress in hand. "Thank you, Princess, thank you - you're the only one who can calm her."

"All right," you tisked, turning from the courtyard and following the young maid away just as your mother's carriage had opened, and she stepped out - catching a simple glimpse of your hurried back and recognizing the tense posture. "What is the matter?" You asked the maid, dodging around different personnel.

"She's refusing anything brought to eat," she explained quietly, "and she grows aggressive as time passes. We do not know what to do anymore, I am sorry for bothering you, Princess."

You huffed, "She's just restless I'd wager, I've not taken her out in a spell. Come, she'll want beef more than venison."

The maid nodded, and together, scurried off with you towards the Dragon Pit. She broke off to consult a local farmer, Mr. Drox, who provided livestock for the royal dragons, and when you reached the Pit, all guards were gathered outside in fear.

"Princess!" They breathed in relief.

"She's all right," you assured, spying the maid leading a fully grown steer closer. "Is she below?"

"No, she's refusing to go down," a guard explained, making you nod.

"Come," you gestured the maid forward. Taking the lead rope, you directed the frightened cow inward; soon spying your emerald dragon as she bellowed in distain. Sand and pebbles fell from the ceiling. "Kasta, easy, easy. What is it, my girl?" You spoke in High Valyrian. "Easy, my sweet girl. Hey, hey, hey," you sassed when she growled at you, "what's all that for, hmm? I know you want to go out, my girl, but soon. I promise, you've got to mind your manners til then, sweetness," you had to pause to turn and heave the steer forward until you could latch the lead rope to the post driven into the sand.

Kasta sniffed the air, cocking her head in curiosity when she understood your offering. Her head swung over to look at you, chittering lightly, and you smiled.

"Yeah," you sighed, "that's all and only for you, sweet girl. Kasta, you need to go down, my girl. Hey? If I offer this steer, will you go down? I will be back in the next few days to take you out. Yes? Is that fair?"

She huffed lightly, shaking her neck and head out before huffing two nostrils of smoke.

"Yeah, that's my good girl," you praised, stepping back to a safe distance. Nodding, you gave her the command to set the horned-cow on fire, listening to it wail in pain for only a few moments before dragon fire engulfed it whole - killing it over.

You watched as your terrible beasty tore the cow apart, listening to the crunch of bone and slurping of flesh before there was nothing but a charred mark in the sand where the cow once stood. You nodded in pride, approaching Kasta's shoulder.

"Good girl," you boasted to her brightly, patting her hide. "Was that enough of an offering? Could you go down now? For me?"

She huffed, and you swore, if dragons could talk, she'd be grumbling to herself like a sassy teenager. You praised the great dragon the entire walk down under the Pit, leaving her in the Dragon Caves so she could curl up in her alcove begrudgingly. "Oh, I know. That's my very good and patient girl," you assured, scratching the scales of her head. "I will be back, and we will stretch your wings, my love. Soon, I swear it." She sighed sadly, a light stream of smoke billowing out. "I know, but today is very important... My brother's lineage is in question, and I must be present for the proceedings."

Her head lifted to tilt at you as if in question.

"I know," you assured with a patient hand. "It's been very stressful. I'll come back and tell you all about it, my sweet. How's that sound?"

Kasta let out a long huff and laid her head down, making you grin with acceptance and give her head a quick hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Patting her scales once more, you bid her a safe night before heading out and discovering the guards still gathered. Still trembling. Still scared out of their minds.

"She's all right," you informed the men with a sigh. "She's under the Pit in the Caves and she will not come out without me. She'll have an attitude, but she's doing well. Leave her be for now."

"Yes, Princess - thank you, Princess."

You nodded in response, wiping your hands on a spare cloth as you moved away from the Pit with a deep sigh; navigating through the city. By position in the sky, you wagered you had spent quite a bit of time there, and when you returned to the Keep, there was a commotion in the training yard that caught your attention.

Slowing your gait while you aimlessly wiped your hands still, you saw your husband in the middle of the commotion - but it was Ser Cole that was posing the challenger. You paused at your vantage point in the causeway to watch, not wincing like you used to as Cole took fatal swings because Aemond was truly a gifted warrior. You used to worry, but there was no use now.

Aemond was just too good.

At the end, your husband had flipped his sword in hand to position at Cole's thick, pale neck - signaling the end of the match. This earned a round of applause from the lingering bystanders, and for the Queen's sworn sword to compliment, "Well done, my Prince. You'll be winning tourneys in no time."

As you descended the stairs leading into the yard, you heard Aemond respond, "I don't give a shit about tourneys. My wife is all the prize I need. Nephews," he directed, sword hilt twirling effortlessly in his hand as his eye shifted over to the crowd, "have you come to train?"

But luck served its purpose, and a guard was shouting, "Open the gate!"

You sighed as you reached the crowd, passing a few drooling Ladies of the court to stalk up to your husband. Approaching his flank, you reached for his elbow first; his head snapping over but relaxing when he took in your face.

"My love," he greeted calmly, smirking gently, "I did not think to see you so soon. Did you catch the show?"

"I did," you nodded, smiling up at him. "You did well, my Prince. It was very impressive, indeed." You leaned up a bit to speak in his ear, "But you'll do well not to challenge my brothers like that again, yes?"

He nodded to you, "As you wish, pretty girl. Have you been to see your mother?"

"Not yet," you sighed, "I was called away to the Pit, Kasta was restless and the guards grew fearful."

"Hmm," he nodded once, easing his arm around your waist tightly as the gates had been wrenched open and your Uncle Vaemond's entourage entered into the Red Keep - waving the blue Velaryon banners. You sighed as Aemond took up a shield, his attention turned to the marching procession and unable to fight off his taunting smirk.

"Aemond," you sighed, jabbing his ribs with your elbow.

"What?" He asked innocently, another smirk in place.

"Behave yourself, please," you sighed, seeing Cole readying for a new fight. Leaning in, you held his waist to peck his lips, "Good luck, my Prince."

"Thank you, sweet girl," he whispered, smirking down at you before stealing his own kiss, and pulling away as he readied his sword. "My wins are in your name, of course."

"And your losses?" You teased him as you backed away a few paces, hearing him chuckle.

"I have none, Princess," he assured with a curt nod, which you understood was more of a wink for him. At least, between the two of you, that's what you understood.

Aemond relied on mostly nonverbal communication and after being married for a few years now, you could read him like you did Valyrian.

You sighed to yourself with a small grin as you approached your brothers, greeting, "Oh, who are these handsome lads? Surely not my wee brothers? All but scrawny last I saw them!" They turned swiftly and grinned at you, breathing your name as they both surged forward to latch onto you in greeting. One set of arms around your neck and the other around your waist. You laughed as you hugged them back, "Oh, my sweet boys! How good it is to see you, hold you again. Ah!"

"It is good to see you, too, sister," Jace beamed; you could hear it in his voice. The two pulled back to face you in full, and your hand reached to caress your younger brother's nervous face.

"Yes, I am glad you're here, too," Luke nodded after, glancing at his brother.

"Oh, worry not, my boy," you sighed, your thumb rubbing the skin of his chin, "for we all know you are the rightful heir to Driftmark, but because Lord Corlys does not have an obvious heir right now, this is just protocol. Though, because grandfather already settled this, I'd not worry at all, Lucerys," you reached for his shoulder then, giving it a squeeze. "You are not standing alone, and you know if it would help and come down to it, I will stand for you."

"You will?" he whispered, small tears gathering in his eyes. "I could not ask that of you..."

"I would never let you stand alone, Luke," you smiled. "Or you, Jace, ever. You both will always have me on your side," you nodded at your other brother. "Though people like to whisper, we share the same blood, and to our mother, the Heir to the Throne, and grandsire, current King, you are her true born sons. That is all that matters, my loves," you spoke with reassurance. "Now, might you want to sneak into the kitchens this me? I hear they're making lemon cakes..."

"Oh! Let's go," Jace beamed, nudging his brother into action. Either boy took your hand, and felt your husband's eye on your retreating form. For the following hours, you and your brothers pursued around the Red Keep with lemon cakes, meeting with your cousins, the Ladies Rhaena and Baela; all reminiscing on shared memories and fond moments from your childhood.

They asked how your life was in the Red Keep, and while you assure all four that you were okay, you smiled sadly as you told them that you missed them all dearly. They filled you in on what your mother was up to, how your step father, Daemon, faired; what they were learning, and how life was treating them as of late.

Rhaena still did not yet have a dragon, but you knew it could not be long before she had one to claim.

Baela was doing well, all things considered.

And outside of this legitimacy fiasco, your brothers were well, too.

When the time for the court proceedings drew nearer, Aemond found you in the Godswood with the other four. "Love," he called, stalking towards you stiffly.

"Oh, Aemond," you smiled.

"Though I hate to interrupt, we're needed, love," he nodded at you with meaning, and you understood.

Again, you knew how to read your husband incredibly well.

"Right," you nodded at him, letting his hand take yours as you turned to your brothers and cousins slash step-sisters. "I will see you lot in the throne room, yes?"

"We'll be there," Jace nodded, glancing at Aemond - who only watched you. "Thank you for the hospitality, sister."

"It is always a pleasure to host you, my siblings," you spoke softly, winking at them with a smile before letting Aemond lead you away. When you exited the Godwood with your dress' skirts in hand to save you from tripping, you asked, "I imagine the Queen has summoned us?"

"She wants a word before the court proceedings begin, yes," Aemond nodded, sighing sadly. "How are your brothers, my dear?"

"Good, thank you for asking," you whispered, smiling up at him. "It is good to see them. And my step-sisters are doing well, too."

"That is good news. It is good to see you so happy," he nodded, readjusting his hold on your hand so you stepped closer all the slightly. "Mother will want us to change before court."

"Saw that coming," you teased. "Wanna match?"

"Hm, what color are you thinking, love?"

"Black," you smirked, making him paused before his mother's chambers to chuckle. "You look very handsome in black."

"Deal," he winked, pecking your forehead as he knocked at the door. When it opened, Ser Cole was on the other side, and let you pass through the open doors.

"The Prince Aemond and Princess Y/N, Your Grace," he announced to your step-mother, who paced in front of the fireplace.

"Thank you, Ser Criston," she thanked, dismissing him, and leaving you three alone. "Would you like to sit?" She offered softly, gesturing to the seating before the fire.

Like you always did, you let Aemond take the reins when talking to his mother. "No, thank you, Mother. We are going to change before the trials, after this meeting."

"'Tis not a trial, Aemond, but only accounts we are hearing. Petitions," Alicent Hightower nodded to herself. "Speaking of, my Lady, might I ask which position you intend to take?"

Knowing now was the time, you assured the King's wife, "The same position I plan to always take, Your Grace. That of my husband."

She nodded once, "Good. That is good to hear."

"Though, should I need to, I am prepared to come to my brother's defense," you spoke strongly, feeling Aemond stiffen slightly. "I do not intend for it, but should my Uncle Vaemond want to drawl me into his petition, trying to cite me, again, as absurd evidence, then I am prepared to support the Prince Lucerys' claim."

Alicent offered a solemn smile, "I would expect little else, dear girl. Very well, then..."

"If it's any peace of mind, Your Grace, I do not intend to stray from my husband's side. It is only if I am forced to, that I am prepared to defend my brother. And I only expect my Uncle Vaemond to do such, my mother nor brother would never."

"I understand," Alicent offered a smile. "Thank you for your honesty."

"Of course, Your Grace," you nodded, bowing to her after.

"If question of my wife's loyalties was all, Mother, we're going to take our leave to change before hearing these... Petitions," Aemond spoke with a hardened tick he rarely took with his mother, cocking his head slightly at the end.

"All right, yes, go on," she dismissed, waving you both out as she turned to resume her nervous pacing. You would've asked if she was all right, but decided against it.

"Everything all right, my love?" You asked when the door shut behind you and Aemond - him tugging you towards your rooms. "Hey, hey, hey, hang on a bit, my legs don't move as fast as yours, love!"

He slowed his gait, sighing lightly, "Sorry, sweet girl. Forget how fast I move sometimes."

"Yeah, 's all right, love, but are you all right?" You asked again. "Got a bit lippy with your Mum, didn't you?"

"Well, she does this often enough," he seethed slightly. "Questions your loyalties even after all these years. It's fucking ridiculous."

"She questioned my mother, she'll question me," you sighed, not wanting to stir him up. "I do not wish to say it is okay, but in a strange way, I do understand it."

"Shouldn't have to," he grumbled, arriving at your chamber doors and pushing them open.

"Well, it's our reality," you rebutdtaled as you moved past him to enter your rooms. "Is that truly what plagues you, husband?" You wondered gently after he shut the door, hands to your hips.

"For now," he sighed. "How was your mother?"

"I told you, I haven't been able to see her yet," you admitted. "I was gathered before I could see her to deal with Kasta."

"Yes... What was wrong, again?" He wondered softly, moving to select something more appropriate for your time in court.

"She is annoyed with me," you chuckled, stripping from your dress to favor the new black gown you chose to wear. "She wants to fly but I have not had time as of late."

"Hmm."

"I will take her out soon," you promised your husband as your had your dragon. "There's more on my mind currently."

He nodded, fixing a new tunic and jerkin on over his pale torso. "Things like your brother's standing as Lord of the Tides?"

You huffed before snapping, "He's the rightful heir, I do not know why this is suddenly back in bloody question. I'm sure mother's been overwhelmed with this, and I have not been there to aid her."

"Why would she be stressed?"

"How would you feel if your children's birth was called into question around every fucking corner?" You sent him a hardened look, pausing your ministrations to stare at him with malcontent. Your eyes dared him to argue with you.

"Well... When you look like you, and they look like them... Love," he sighed, pleading for you to see his reason.

"You act as if our familial traits cannot do funny things through bloodlines and time," you snipped, crossing your arms. "The Gods favored me only by allowing me white hair and the paler complexion of my father - and the boys were not so lucky. That does not make them any less Targaryen, Aemond, and I will not have this argument with you again!"

Aemond sighed and wanting to placate your ebbing and waning anger, agreed, "You are right, my love. I'm sorry for pushing."

"It's all right," you sighed, shaking your head as you went back to work, "it's not like I'm stupid or blind. I know we look different, but it does not mean that we do not share the same blood."

"No," he nodded, reaching for you to help lace up your gown. "But for now, they will plead their petitions - "

"Uncle Vaemond is the only one with a fucking petition because Luke is the rightful heir," you corrected.

"Right," he nodded in agreement, patting your waist when he was done lacing you in. "Ready, pet?"

"In a moment, yes," you sighed, reaching for a new, extravagant jewelry set - one Aemond had gifted you on your name day, the first one you shared together after you took his last name as your own.

When you were in your new gown and boots and your jewels attached properly, and your husband was changed into a new tunic, jerkin, and trousers with boots; you laced your hands together, and out the door you went. There was a growing crowd outside the courtroom, and as you drew nearer, the procession was halted to allow you passage first.

Your husband's name was announced first, and then your own; letting the two of you descend into the courtroom together. Behind you, other patrons were allowed entrance after you were a distance inside. You saw your mother and brothers standing there, smiling at her before taking your place at Aemond's side behind his family. You saw your name form on your mother's lips before she was returning your smile, only looking away when Otto Hightower, your step-grandsire and Hand of the King, took his place in front of the Iron Throne.

How wrong it looked to spy a Hightower at the legendary Throne, but you knew he was only exercising his common occupancy of being a placeholder. With the thought in mind, you let your hand press to Aemond's stomach as his hand curled around your waist; turning your attention, obediently, towards the front of the courtroom. Aegon, Helaena, and Alicent stood in front of you both, but neither you nor Aemond seemed to mind; as the second row provided optimal viewing.

Otto's voice boomed over all as he started the proceedings, "Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King's voice on this and all other matters." He turned slightly to guide himself to the edge of the Throne's seat. "The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

"Oh, Gods, here we go," you whispered, your husband smirking and tightening his arm as your great-uncle stepped forward to the attention of the courts.

"Shh," Aemond shushed quietly with a smirk stretching across his lips to assure you he was entirely entertained by the events.

"My Queen," Vaemond greeted Alicent first with a respectful nod of his head. "My Lord Hand," he addressed Otto. "The history of our noble Houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our Houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end of their bloodlines and their name..." His voice raised to address the whole of the court, and Aemond's hand curled and pet over your waist in an effort to soothe you. "I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys' closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins."

You wanted to protest, but your mother, ever the protective Mama Bear, spoke first with interjection, "As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much about your House's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and your own ambition."

Without missing a single beat, Queen Alicent was calling, "You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard."

You lifted your chin with a clenched jaw, watching your mother's head turn from Alicent to stare forward again, as Vaemond's smug face turned to stare her down. "What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess, outside of your only daughter?" He sneered, making Aemond's arm constrict to pulled you a step closer so you were nearly standing on top of his feet. This was what he feared, you being pulled in, but you remained silent with a hand pressed flat to your husband's chest. "I could cut our veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it." Your mother nodded, as if making a mental note of the insults he projected - not missing the veiled threat to you. "This is about the future and survival of my House, not yours."

You let out a soft huff when you could see Luke's face full of fear, looking down to your feet for a moment to recenter yourself; Aemond's thumb rubbing with reassurance - something that Daemon, your step father, clocked from his position across the way. Your hand briefly pet down his chest to then rest against his stomach again, an effort to remain close... To remain safe.

Your Uncle Vaemond turned from glowering smugly at your mother and her family, to then face the front of the room again, addressing, "My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition." You missed the way your brothers glared at your husband, who stared back with unnerve, because your own violet eyes glared at your father's uncle. "I place the continuation of the survival of my House and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor... The Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides."

You sighed through your nose as Otto called, "Thank you, Ser Vaemond." There was a sickly pause as Vaemond nodded, your mother looking like she was visibly trembling; and your brother-by-law looked far too pleased and amused by the proceedings. Aemond kept his usual mask of neutrality, but his arm was heavy around you as your feet shifted your weight. "Princess Rhaenyra," Otto called, "you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon."

You smiled softly as your mother stepped up in a gorgeous black gown that had red and gold embroidery around the hemlines; coming to a halt in the middle of the courtroom to be presented. Her hands discreetly caressed the front of her pregnant belly.

"Never have I witnessed a man threaten a Princess so boldly and get away with it," she spat towards Vaemond, "and if you ever speak of my daughter again, I will ensure it be the last time you speak. Now..." She faced the front again. "If I am to grace this farce with some answer," she spat again, as she could not hold back her temper from Otto or Alicent, "I will start by reminding the court," but behind her, the throne room's door opened with a heavy clang, "that nearly 20 years ago, in this very cour - " She cut herself off, turning with shock to spy who had entered the room during an official hearing, but never did anyone imagine the late arriving newcomer.

Two guards opened the doors, and two more entered first, with only one announcing, "King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name," your mother's head snapped over to catch your eyes, both of you sharing a look of utter shock, "King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men." Otto rose from his seat on the Iron Throne slowly, staring with disbelief as your mother's father, your husband's father, your grandsire used a cane to help him hobble into the room. "Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

The entire courtroom bowed in respect as nobody could believe their eyes; having the impression that King Viserys, the Peaceful, was not soon for the world. Yet here he was, dressed in his robes, golden face mask in place to his the injuries his illness has left, and with a decades-old, ancestral crown sat on his balding head, limping into the throne room. Yes, he limped severely, and yes, he required a cane, but by the Gods, this was something akin to a miracle.

You felt tears of pride swelling in your eyes, knowing the babe you grew in your womb would wreck havoc on your emotions, and in an effort to not give anyone reason to question your tears, willed them away. But it was a powerful moment to watch your grandsire, and technically, father-by-law, show the court that he is not yet done with this world, and what an entrance to make.

You knew that with Viserys present, there was no real need for Rhaenyra to give her petition. However, your eyes clocked the way Vaemond looked from the Queen to the Hand with distraught, disbelieving confusion. Your eyes cut over and met that of your step-father, your single brow perking in conversation; and he subtly gave a nod of his head before turning back to watching Viserys.

But it was obvious both you and Daemon had noticed the same motions and figured it meant Vaemond had struck some deal with the Hightowers prior to the current court hearing.

How interesting, indeed.

With worry, you asked quietly to Aemond, "Should one of us help him?"

"No, sweet girl, 's all right," he assured in your ear. "Father's a proud man," he let his forehead rest against your temple; finding your kindness a breath of fresh air in the otherwise tangibly tense room.

Aemond eventually took both of your hands in your own as if to keep you anchored at his side, but your body had turned to watch the King; and as his sunken, dried, deadened eye turned, your grandsire caught sight of your encouraging smile amongst a sea of envious Green - who all provided unsure looks of shock.

A few steps later, and he saw the relieved look on his beloved daughter's face - and Viserys knew, he made the right choice in coming today.

When he leveled with Otto, the King breathed through a wheeze, "I will sit the Throne today."

You had to hold your breath to resist the scream of laughter and excitement you wanted to give. What a moment - what a fucking moment to bear witness to. And by the small smirk on your husband's lips when his gaze darted down to meet your eyes, he was feeling something akin to pride. Aemond let loose a small snort of air out of amusement, patting your hip before gripping it once more.

"Your Grace," Otto agreed, stepping away as the King tried to make it up the stairs by himself and his cane.

The whole hall echoed the the thumps of his cane and groans, moans, and grunts of determination - as well as unfiltered pain. When his guards tried to help, King Viserys refused help, and only made it a few shuffles on his feet before the crown on his thinning head clattered to the stone floor.

But tears sprung to your eyes involuntarily when Daemon stepped up beside his brother and picked up his ancestral, golden crown.

Viserys, again, tried to refuse aid, but when he saw his brother's patient face and heard his whispered encouragement, the King allowed his brother to help him. Such a moment you were feeling privileged to witness, because what a moment it was - to see Daemon, the once scorned, reckless Prince of the City, who had been disinherited as Viserys' heir in favor of your mother, Rhaenyra, helping his weakened, sickly brother up to take his seat on the Iron Throne. He then placed the golden crown to his head, taking a moment to absorb his brother's very being, and then turn to head off the Throne's pedestal.

Daemon returned to your mother's side on the court's floor; both taking their posts around their children as your hand slid into Aemond's to hold in a vice. Viserys readjusted in his seat as your husband didn't care for your positioning, pulling you closer by your waist and settling there.

Through panting breath, Viserys called to the court, "I must... Admit... My confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. Only one present... Who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys' wishes is the Princess Rhaenys."

All eyes, including yours, turned to look at your grandmother - who stood with her ward, Rhaena, who was Daemon and your aunt, Laena Velyaron's, daughter. Baela, their other daughter, had chose to remain, it seems, with her father and step-mother.

Princess Rhaenys is married to Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, where the two shared two children - you aunt Laena, and your father, Laenor; both of whom were deceased. Now, with Lord Coryls' severe wounds, it seems only his wife can provide proper insight to what his wishes are following his death.

Gods forbid it came to that...

Inclining her head, your grandmother, who was years ago passed over to succeed the Iron Throne in favor of your grandsire, Viserys, agreed, "Indeed, Your Grace." With a solemn look to her brother-by-law, Vaemond, she moved for the center of the court. When she came to a halt, she kept her voice even and diplomatic, "It was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor, to his trueborn son... Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him." You noticed her words drew the attention of the Greens, remaining silent. "As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons, Jace and Luke, to Lord Corlys' granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena." You noted the looks your brothers offered your mother, smirking gently. "A proposal to which I heartily agree."

Your stepmother shook her head in displeasure, and you realized, while Vaemond had sought the Queen and Hand's council, your mother had alined herself with Princess Rhaenys - and it was checkmate.

Your mother had the upper hand, and now with the Princess' words, you knew she had solidified her son's position. Well played, Mother...

"Well... The matter is settled," Viserys decided. "Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon," heads turned to look at the boy, "as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides."

Hearing Viserys wheeze in punctuation, Rhaenys turned from her place, sending a small smirk to Rhaenyra, and moved back towards her granddaughter, your cousin and step-sister, Rhaena.

But the matter was far from settled.

"You break law..." Vaemond seethed, stepping up to the King's attention, "and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me... Who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon... No... I will not allow it," he hissed in anger.

"'Allow it'?" Viserys repeated. "Do not forget yourself, Vaemond."

You flinched gently when Vaemond turned to point an accusatory finger at your younger brother, "THAT is no true Velaryon," he turned back to the King, "and certainly no nephew of mine."

"Go to your chambers," you mother demanded of your brothers. To Vaemond, she directed, "You have said enough."

"Lucerys is my true-born grandson," Viserys reiterated. "And you... Are no more than the second son of Driftmark."

"You... May run your House as you see fit... But you will not decide the future of mine. My House survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides!" He growled. His head whipped around to glare at Rhaenyra. "And Gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this - " He took a breath to finish his sentence but pursed his lips, reminding him that he was in the presence of the King. He held his tongue.

Across the way, you saw your step-father challenge under his breath, "Say it."

Your spine straightened as Aemond's hand rubbed deftly up and down in assurance, everyone waiting for Vaemond's next words. Even Viserys cocked his head as he waited with a pant to his lungs.

"Her children," Vaemond started quietly - but all still heard him, "are BASTARDS!"

"Hey, hey," Aemond whispered, both arms around you when you shifted in place - wanting to throw some punches, but your husband restrained you.

Anger shifted around your family, both boys doing little to hide their disrespect; you doing little to hide your acute anger. Daemon caught your eye and you saw him raise a silent finger, sighing, and relaxing into Aemond's chest. He even breathed a sigh of relief when you did, pressing a quick peck to your temple as if to thank you for backing down - saving him from a fight.

"And she..." Vaemond turned forward to tell the King, "Is... A whore."

The crowd gasped, Aemond smirked, and his arms tightened around you - despite your frozen shock. Truth of the matter was that both Laenor and Daemon had taken time to train you themselves on Dragonstone with a sword, so, you felt as if your odds at taking on the older Velaryon were better than most.

But your attention turned towards the King as he hobbled from his Throne with a hefty glare. "I..." He breathed, yanking his dagger free from his belt, but your eyes watched Daemon as he moved stoically, almost invisible to the court as they were all waiting for Viserys' judgement; the King panting, "Will have your tongue for that!"

Before you could yell not to, your step-father had unsheathed his sword and expertly cleaved Dark Sister to slice clean through Vaemond's head. You flinched some and Aemond turned his body to turn you away from the sight, blood splattering across the floor. Helaena and Alicent turned away, too, Aemond seemingly unable to look away, as Aegon only turned his head to the side with disgust.

When the dead body hit the floor with a squelch, you could see that Daemon had sliced clean through the man's skull - and only his jaw and tongue were attached - the latter flopping to the side uselessly. Standing above the body, Daemon glared down at him with Dark Sister planted to the ground, his hands folded over the hilt.

"He can keep his tongue," Daemon leered.

"DISARM HIM!" Otto snapped back into his senses from shock, hollering to the King's Guard; making a chorus of unsheathing swords sing.

"No need," Daemon brushed off casually, catching your eye to drop a quick, reassuring wink as he lifted his blade to wipe it clean while he moved back for his wife's side - ever the protective husband.

But you seemingly heard him first, and caught sight of Viserys' strength failing him, "Alicent - the King," you rushed to tell her.

Her head snapped around as Viserys collapsed, moaning in discomfort. "Call the Maesters!" She cried, a hand briefly squeezing your forearm in thanks before rushing up the stairs to catch her husband's failing figure.

"Father?" Rhaenyra stepped up, and while you wanted to rush for her, the King was the most pressing matter, and you paused at Aemond's side. Though the King never truly showed his sons love, you knew in some twisted way that he did; and so did Aemond in that moment, for his face showed concern while you felt his body tense.

You turned to press into his side, under his tight arm, and with your hand flat to his chest, muttered, "'S all right, love. He's got help."

He nodded mutely at you, trying to relax as a guard took Viserys under his arm - the Maester racing to the scene, and together, they helped the groaning King down from his Throne. You pet over your husband's chest as the King was escorted away, leaving Queen Alicent before the Throne, and Rhaenyra at the base of the pedestal.

How odd to see... Alicent standing above Rhaenyra. Green above Black. Hightower above the mighty Dragon.

The turn of the tide was soon to crash over the House of the Dragon, and from the image before you, you worried the Hightowers would topple the structure of your beloved family. Aemond sighed heavily, his head tilted towards your ear. "C'mon, my love. Please."

You sighed and let his hand tangle with yours, waiting for dismissal - but after the King leaves, there is little need to linger. You could not yet speak to your mother, step-father, brothers, or cousins, but you managed to catch your mother's eyes - nodding once, to which she returned the motion, and then Aemond was striding out of the hall with you in tow. His siblings might've followed, you're unsure, because your feet had to jog to catch up with your husband's elongated strides.

When you got to your chambers, he ushered you inside and shut the door before locking it. "Aemond?" You asked in a breath.

"What was that?" He asked, starting to pace the length of your room. "What the bloody hell was that? Huh!?"

"Aemond, calm yourself a moment to explain to me what you're on about."

"That!" He roared, hand held up in gesture.

"Sadly, that was just Daemon being Daemon. He's rash, my love, and has always operated by his own want, merit, and doing. He cares very little for political politeness. Even when he was heir after Viserys, before my mother, he was ruthless. He's calmed down considerably, but he is still brash. Do not let Daemon startle you - "

"I am not startled."

"Then what is this?" You asked, sighing with a gesture towards him.

"It is strange, is it not? That he can behave in such a manner?"

"He's the King's brother," you shrugged a bit.

"I am the King's son," he snapped, "and yet when his grandsons attack me, he favored them over me. Even after I was disfigured! What am I doing wrong? Hey? His brother is allowed to openly murder a man, yet I lose an eye without consequence, and for what?"

"Vaemond Velaryon offered deep, troubling, public insult to the crown heir of this kingdom," you snapped. "Nevermind he also seemed to have threatened your wife, my dear husband! Mind your fucking manners for that is still my mother and our future Queen you speak of. Vaemond decided to raise ill word to her, insulting her seed, insulting the King's seed, threatening to make me bleed, and Daemon does not handle disrespect well." You were enraged, but your heart also shattered in your chest for your husband. You stepped up so you could take his hands in your own, "But I am so sorry for what happened years ago, Aemond, I truly am, my sweet love." His hands tore from yours in favor of squeezing your waist closer to him. "It is not fair and justice was never served for your injuries, but I implore you to see that this jealousy will not get you anywhere. You forget, my young brother is heir after my mother, and my brother after is heir to Driftmark. But I, my sweet, am heir to Dragonstone. When the time is right, you and I can be away from this political foolishness and have our own homestead to rule over. You will not always endure being a second son, because you will be Lord of Dragonstone. Hmm? We will not always have reason to play by everyone else's rules."

He sighed, chuckling lightly after, "Aye, you know how to soothe me, don't you?"

"I'd be a pretty terrible wife if I did not," you teased softly. "Vaemond made a mistake, my love, and while I will not justify Daemon, I cannot say I am surprised. He is not named the Rogue Prince for nought. But I do know there will be no consequences to his actions."

"And how fair does that seem, wife?"

"It is not, husband," you sighed, "but there is little to be done."

"Like there was little to be done when I lost my eye?"

You frowned, caressing his cheek softly before reaching for both his eye patch and hair clip; releasing his silver locks first. His eye closed and his head bowed some to then let you lift the leather patch from his face. "Would you look at me? Please?" You asked softly, caressing his cheek again to let your thumb run over the under side of his scar softly. When his violet eye met your amethyst orbs, he shuddered a small breath. "The loss of your eye is truly unfortunate, and I cannot extend my deepest sympathies for it. But it does not take away from you," you let your eyes rake over the injury, the sapphire he liked to put in his bare socket almost winking at you in the torchlight. "I find you incredibly beautiful, my sweet husband." Your eyes moved to his, "And nothing is going to change my love for you. Eye or no eye... So long as your love remains mine, I do not wish for anything else. You are all I need in a husband, in a partner," his hands tightened to a bruising strength, pressing you against his front - and growing bulge, "and I love you exactly the way you are."

Aemond, a man of little words, surged forward to lock your lips in a searing kiss; earning a high-pitched whine from you. His arms locked around you, your hands gripping his neck as if he was the only thing keeping you upright. Aemond felt emotion swell in his chest and started to back you up towards the bed; leaning you down to sit on the bed, hands locked in your hair.

He smirked when your teeth pulled over his bottom lip, letting it snap back into place. "Lay back," he ordered quietly, aiding you by means of guiding your legs up to help you push back on the bed. His smirk didn't falter as he unlaced your boots and then pulled them off, caressing your bare feet after pulling your stockings off. His hands then moved up your calves, pushing the skirts of your dress up as he went. With your feet planted, he pushed your knees apart and let your skirts fall up your hips.

He let his gaze rake over you, his nose exhaling a deep sigh.

Your head cocked slightly, asking as you reached for him, "What's wrong, love?"

"Nothing," he assured swiftly, pausing to start unlacing his leather jerkin. "Just appreciating the view of my stunning wife."

You pulled yourself up onto your elbows, smiling at him, "You know this view well, do you not?"

"I will not tire of it," he nodded, finally ridding his upper half naked, much to your appreciation. "I do swear you get more beautiful as time passes. How blessed I am."

Sliding yourself to sit up, you let your hair tumble around one shoulder as you watched him. When he moved towards you again, you held a hand in pause to him, making him halt in wonder as you explained, "The pants, too, my Lord."

He smirked, "You do not wish to dispose of them yourself?"

"I want to watch you," your voice lowered, standing from the bed only to pull all your under clothes off from underneath your skirts. Dropping them at his feet, you looked him up and down as prey did predator before moving for the spare table. Pouring yourself a goblet of wine, you moved back for the bed to sit, cross your bare legs, and take a hefty sip as your brows perked. With your eyes watching your husband, you prompted, "Well? Do you mean to disobey your wife? I did not think I'd have to ask twice."

His fingers slowly, tauntingly, yanked at the leather strings of his trousers; never once breaking eye contact with you as you took another gulp. In the effort to finish your cup before he was done, you took another drawl as Aemond yanked the hips of his britches open; then shucking them from his hips.

Your head cocked with a tease, swallowing another mouthful of sweet wine as he tugged the leather trousers down his muscular thighs, and then finally, down around his calves.

"Keep going," you whispered, his hands pulling his boots free, tossing them to the side; and then finishing by freeing his legs, tossing his leather pants away. They landed near his boots, but still, his eye did not break free from yours. You finished your wine.

Slowly, your tongue licked between the seam of your lips, tasting the sweet Dornish wine Aemond preferred. You hummed lightly, smirking at your husband, making him prompt, "And now, my Princess?" He took confident steps forward, making your legs uncross to spread and welcome him. "What would you have of me, wife?"

"On your knees," you whispered when his face hovered over yours. He took the goblet from your hands and let it clatter to the floor.

"Hmm. On your back first, love," he purred in response, making you smile when his hands swiftly bunched your skirts up to your waist, lowering himself as he went until he was perfectly level with your bare cunt. He breathed across your lower wetted lips, taking a tasting lick. He hummed, "Just as I thought you could not be more perfect. Gods, you taste delectable, my sweet girl."

Before you could speak his name in reprimand, he opened his mouth, and dove tongue first into your weeping heat. All that fell from your lips were breathless moans and his name chanted like a prayer; legs spreading wider to accommodate his broad shoulders while your head tipped back in pleasure.

With desperate fingers, you pulled at your dress to free your arms and wrangle from the garment; his hand instantly shooting up your body to palm your breast with near relief, kneading it with fervor. His mouth engulfed the whole of your cunt, moving both tongue and jaw to lap at the juices you secreted from arousal.

He hummed against your clit, tongue messily wagging back and forth; hand tight on your tit, the other holding your hip in place. "Aemond," you begged shrilly, without breath; mind lost to his ministrations. Your hand tightened in his free flowing locks. "Wait, wait, wait," you panted, over come by the feeling he provided you. But he bore down, keeping you in place, and the hand that had once twisted your nipple dropped to sweep against your weeping hole.

With a wanton cry from you, his fingers pushed in, and the combined pressure of his fingers pumping in and out of you relentlessly with his lips sucking on your puckered clit sent you to heaven.

A warm flushed your body, and your blood began to sing as you were overwhelmed with the adrenaline rush - gasping for Aemond, hands fisting his hair, and keeping him close to your cunt; resulting in you releasing over his mouth, chin, and fingers.

"Ah, that's it," he praised, not relenting his finger's motions to only glance up at you, "keep going, my sweet girl, that's it. Good girl, yes," he gazed back at your cunt, speeding his fingers up when your back arched, and a moment later, a second wave crashed and Aemond was laughing as you squirted over him - again.

"Ae-Aemond," you pleaded brokenly, nearly wriggling with pleasure.

"One more, one more, one more," he grunted, one arm now holding your hips down as the other rapidly spurred into you to prod at that spongy-good spot within your walls. His drool dripped onto your puffy clit before he descended to suck his lips over you. "Yes, yes, yes, good girl, that's it, fucking soak me, go on, yes, that's my girl, one more, one more," he praised in a chant, holding you down as your hips bucked and for a final time, spewed over your husband's chin and chest.

"Oh, my Gods," you panted, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes involuntarily; chest heaving as your legs felt limp, yet simultaneously alight with a buzz. "N-No more, please. Gods..."

"Yeah? You all right, precious girl?" He chuckled, crawling up your body. He paused for a moment to finally yank your dress off you; raising your hips to help him before crashing back to the bed.

"Yeah," you panted still. "Gods, where did that come from, hey?"

"You're surprised?" he chuckled, laying beside you a moment; letting his head dip down to kiss your neck.

"No," you admitted, chuckling a bit. "Just not used to it, yet."

"Your body sings for me, pet," he whispered, letting his tongue rake up sweaty skin. After biting at your throat gently, he wondered, "Got another in you?"

"Anything for you, my Prince," you whispered, petting his cheek to raise his lips to yours. He groaned when your teeth bit his lip, making him press harder into you; bare, throbbing cock pressing into your hip. "Aemond," you begged, reaching for his twitching member; hearing his breath sharpen and stagger.

"On your stomach, sweetheart," he smirked, petting down your waist. When you felt his hand purposefully skate across your lower stomach, you worried he felt the change in your body.

"Maybe not," you pouted some.

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly.

Your hand laid over his, curling around it to hold. "Well, I'm soon to start my cycle and I believe the fish the other night wasn't good. I just feel bloated, not myself."

He hummed, "Do you feel unwell?"

"No."

"Then it is of no concern to me because you know you're perfect in my eyes," he chuckled a bit, leaning in to kiss you fully. "Let me fuck you, pretty girl."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever my Lord husband wants," you playfully rolled your eyes at him, easing from under his body to plant your feet on the ground but lay your stomach on the bed, giving your hips a quick wiggle. "Hmm?"

"Good girl," he growled, wasting no time in leaping off the bed after you; planting his feet between yours, and after giving a single sweep of his cock up your slick, he pushed his hips forward until fully sheathed inside you. The both of you moaned, and while you thought your husband often insatiable, you would not get used to his size nor girth; often craving it.

You panted beneath him, feeling his hands move from your hips to waist to your back and then your hair and to your shoulders then to waist, again. All the while, as if energized by something you could not see, his hips hammered into the back of yours; making your hands fist your sheets in tune to his low, growling grunts.

You begged his name as if for relief, but it fell on deaf ears.

Aemond was chasing his orgasm now (that had built all day), letting his fingers find your clit to rapidly toy with it; feeling your knees buckle into the side of the mattress. You let your face screw up slightly as your orgasm was damn-near blinding, nearly collapsing into the bed as Aemond's hands seized your hips to hump all the hard, all the faster.

"FUCK!" You shouted from a twinge of pain, feeling him stretching you - prodding into spots deep within your walls, and feeling your pleasure mount to new heights. Your hands once held the sheets now shot back to grab at his forearms, trying to alleviate the pressure you felt, but he did not falter - nor slow - his hammering hips.

"That's it, I know you can fucking take it, like a good fucking girl," Aemond snarled, one hand holding your hips as the other reached out to wrap in your hair and yank back. Your back bowed and your chest rose; a guttural moan ripping from your throat with near pain from the pull to your scalp. But when you were close enough, his arm helped adjust you; one hand in your hair as the other wrapped around your chest. His hips did not falter in their movements, that now pounded into you upwards. "That's my girl," his lips spoke in your ear, wetting the shell of it before giving a scrape of his teeth. "Always so fucking good for me, so wet and willing. Just sucking me in, Seven fucking Hells."

"Aemond," you whimpered now, almost delirious as one of your hands drifted down your body to finger your clit while the other helped you keep your position.

"Get there, my love," he encouraged, licking at your neck. "C'mon, pretty girl. Get there, I feel you squeezing me - lemme fucking feel you gush all over me."

It did not take long, and within a few strokes, you were tumbling over the cliffside; Aemond following only a few moments after to paint your inner walls with his hot ropes of cum. You both let yourselves fall forward to the bed, and your husband did his best to hold his balance off of you. But his chest rose and fell with trepidation, making you reach back to pet over his cheek.

His hair was damp from sweat, your own no real different.

Aemond heaved for breath as he pulled his softening cock from your cunt, shoving himself up the bed before reaching for you, and yanking you up by grabbing under your arms. You whined, naturally, but settled when he had laid you against his chest; pausing only to readjust comfortably against him, one leg hitching over his hips. "Please tell me we are done for the day?" You sighed against his flushed chest, manicured nail tracing patterns over his breast. "We're not needed elsewhere, right?"

"I believe we're done for the day, yes, my love," he sighed softly, kissing your forehead.

"Hmm," you nodded, playfully nipping at his pebbled nipple.

"Hey, now. Do not tempt me, I will take you again right now."

You grinned up at him when his arm tightened. But before you could say anything, there was a (dreaded) knock at your door. "Prince Aemond?" A servant called through the wood, making your head fall to his chest with a defeated sigh.

Your husband huffed and grumbled a curse while sitting up to yank a blanket from the bottom of your bed; swiftly covering both of your lower halves with your chest pressed to his side for protection.

"Come in," he lazily demanded, laying back to the headboard with an arm behind his head, and looking to the opening door. His other hand lazily drug calloused fingertips over the plain of your bare back, sending a legion of goose flesh over your flesh and for a shiver to shoot down your spine. "What is it?" He asked stoically of the servant.

"M-My Prince, Princess," the servant nervously stuttered, bowing with respect, "my apologies for the intrusion, but the Hand has called for a dinner later in the evening."

"I'm sorry?" Aemond snipped, making your hand thump against his chest in silent reprimand. He adjusted his tone when he asked, "What's that to mean?"

"The K-King, my Prince, has called for a dinner. The Hand is tasked with delivering the message and ensuring the royal family attends."

You sighed and whispered, "'S fine, love. Dinner sounds nice."

Aemond nodded, waving the servant out, "There a time?"

"Sundown, my Prince."

"That will be all," he dismissed with finality.

"Thank you!" You called, hearing the door shut right after. You chuckled, "You could stand to be a bit nicer, you know. It will not kill you, my love, I promise."

"They're lucky they knocked when they did. Should they have arrived minutes prior, I might've had to knock around a skull or two," he grumbled.

You chuckled slightly, "Perhaps you'd fancy a trip to the training yard, my love? Work out your frustrations with a sword?"

"Usually you offer yourself," he teased.

"I need to be able to walk if we are to have dinner with the King tonight," you covered, leaning up to peck his lips. "But I can feel your tension, just thought you'd want to hack your sword into something."

"Have another uncle I could dice up?" He teased.

"Oh, you're so bloody funny, ha-ha," you teased, feeling his lips spread in a grin across your forehead. With a sigh, you let yourself relish in the few moments more you had with your husband - before he would rise, dress, and depart, and you'd be left alone to figure out what the hell to wear that evening. You've already worn most of your dresses that concealed your swelling-belly, wondering what else was left in your wardrobe to use.

After another few moments to stretch in bed, you called for your handmaiden, Amira, and rose to tie a dressing robe over your bare figure. While you waited for her arrival, you chose proper undergarments and in an effort to save yourself embarrassment, dressed quickly before retying your robe - where moments later, Amira knocked, and began the process that would ensure you wore the perfect gown for dinner.

Something proper that would not give away the shape of your belly, and therefore, uncover your secret.

[ series masterlist ]

[under-lore]

EDIT 14/03 : Since many people have been sharing this post around (mostly on reddit) and incorrectly assuming it to be the full argument tied with the book reveals mentioned, please keep in mind this was made just a few hours after the book extracts were released and it doesn’t contain all the information there is at all about the book or even about the arguments made regarding the extracts. It was just made (in a slight rush, i may add) to briefly inform people of the overall discoveries made via the book a few hours earlier. There are more things to say about those with are not shared in this post !

So you may have heard about the Undertale legends of localisation 3 book currently available for pre-order of Fangamer.

Recently, a few images from this book have made their way online a few of them are very intriguing lore wise. At first i’ve suspected them to be fake due to the magnitude of the information given, but after verification those did in fact turn out to be real extracts from the book.

This book is a document which is both specified as "made with full access to Toby Fox" and "not part of Undertale merch" (Possibly to avoid the stigma about debatable merch canonicity due to Toby’s old tweet about it ?).

(Most) of it was not written by hand by Toby but it was said to be reflective of Toby's vision of the game and is therefore to be considered as official information.

The most important piece of information to have come out of this book as of today is the following section, more specifically the first paragraph.

And this tells us several very important things that seem to confirm and deconfirm a couple of old UT fan theories !

To start with the less important one :

1 - Chara is excluded from "The three members of the Dreemurr family".

This line coupled with the alarm clock dialogue and a couple lines where Toriel and Asgore refer to Chara in an odd manner seem to imply that Chara may not have wanted to be considered a Dreemurr (Which the Dreemurrs would respect, but the rest of the kingdom would still assume them to be Asriel's sibling), or that they were simply never properly 'adopted' by the Dreemurrs and only lived and were treated as if they were.

(is Chara not considered their child ?)

2 - The Undertale three entities thesis is correct. That is, that there is a trio of 3 entities able to control Frisk's body (Frisk, Chara, and the player.)

This has two sides, first off, it means that :

1) Chara does in fact, have to be bound with Frisk in every route and not just in genocide. There were already several ways to know this via the game of course, but no direct implication of this from outside media existed until now. (There were a couple indirect ones)

It is however not a proof of NarraChara as it could still be possible for Chara to fulfill this role described here by being around Frisk, but not necessarily also being the narrator of the game. Nevertheless, it does still fairly strongly supports the theory and deconfirms one of its antithesises).

And 2) : The second side is that this would also have to make the player a canon entity in Undertale as well in order to complete that triforce. The player cannot be a third party vying for control of Frisk’s body if they do not exist in-world.

You can also point out how just before saying that, the text also portrays Monsters, Humans and the player as a set of three and thus shows that Frisk must be a different entity from the player that way as well.

This book contains yet more information to be analysed and whilst i intend to obtain my own physical copy as soon as possible, until then updates regarding it will only be as fast as new information appears.

[steamberrystudio]

07/07/2024 Tumblr Devlog

Hallo everyone!  Time for the tumblr update! Whii~iich I think I may have skipped a couple - it looks like I did that annoying thing where I wrote up an update and *forgot to post it*. 

Sorry about that! 

So what have I been doing lately? Well. Lemme tell ya.

I wrote 23,000 words this week, for one. I am ded. ┗( T﹏T )┛

But let's jump into the details because in the most recent update I see, I was still revising chapter 10.

Summary:

Finished revising, proofreading, and formatting chapter 10

Revised Asher ending sequence

Revised Daaz ending sequence

Finished drafting Kav's endings sequence

Finished drafting Noel's ending sequence

Finished drafting Raif's endings sequence

Worked on a ton of UI changes and improvements

Worked on some sprite tweaks

Received some new BG art!

Writing:

So as you can see, lots of writing progress since my last update. 

I finished revising chapter 10 and coding it. It turned out to be 88,000 words coded.

I revised and formatted Asher and Daaz's ending sequences into the game. Those two were already drafted and just needed to be cleaned up and put into Renpy.

The remaining four character still needed to be drafted but I had paused to revise the entire script so I could make some necessary plot fixes before I tried to draft the remaining endings. 

With that done, I've moved into finishing up the draft.

Currently I have Kav, Noel, and Raif drafted and Yren in progress.

And that will be all the main game content complete!

The current un-coded word count amount is 625,000 words. 💪

Art:

So I have completed some CG work since my last update but the main thing I've been working on art-wise is UI updates and changes. 

A lot of small changes to the general aesthetic as well as implementing a lot of small additions I've been contemplating for a while as QoL improvements.

Such as a little indicator that shows when you are in a "character branch" and things like that.

I've also made a few small tweaks to some of the sprites - mostly just making their expressions a little more dramatic since they were reading a bit flat to me. And, of course, adding new outfits. Always new outfits. LoL

And of course, new BGs from both artists.

Background are around 76% complete currently.

Other Stuff:

I guess UI goes in here too since in addition to the "art" aspect, there's the implementation aspect as well.

Once you change the look of something that has to be coded in, of course. 

I ended up deciding that I want to experiment with moving the sprites around a bit more - mostly moving them a bit closer and then further away depending on the scene, what's happening, and how many characters are on screen in a given moment.

There are several benefits to this including keeping the screen from being static for long periods but also, there are a couple of characters that the player will really benefit from being able to see their faces up close (mostly Raif and Yren).

So yeah - in addition to redesigning some of the screens, I have also been implementing those changes bit by bit.

The game definitely looks quite different now. I recently saw a playthrough of the current prototype that's on Itch and was astonished because I forgot how it looked when it was first released. Ha ha. It's gone through a lot of changes. 

Noel no longer matches the ceiling, for one! Amazing.

Upcoming Weeks:

I will be working on finishing up Yren's ending sequence and hope to get that done in the upcoming week - which means another heavy writing week. 

As I've said elsewhere, I have been calling them "ending sequences" but in reality this is the last three chapters of each route which is about 20,000 words total for each character. I have about 3000 words of Yren's done and I'm actually only shooting for about 15,000 for the rough draft because I invariable add dialogue and variations when I edit, which means I have to undershoot the draft so I don't overshoot the word count during revision.

So yeah, I'll be completing Yren's final three chapters, then revising Kav, Noel, Raif, and Yren and formatting them into the game, which will give me the "final" word count for the project.

And then I will be "done" with the writing (in quotes because...you're never done with the writing until it releases. LoL

I should definitely be done with drafting and revising by my next update here but I can't really say what I'll be working on by that point. Probably...UI and CGs. Not sure.

We'll find out in the future I suppose! See you then!

[naeverse]

I have some news to share...😕

Hello, everyone. I have some news to tell you all, and it took me by surprise when I discovered it. Firstly, I just want to say thank you to a wonderful person on this app for telling me (don't know if you would like a shout out or not, DM me if you do, but you know who you are), but without you, I would have never known, so thank you so much!! ❤❤

But onto the news, like I stated previously, a wonderful person sent me a post that someone had published a story here on Tumblr that was literally copied and pasted from my own story, "Lapdog," with a simple change of the characters, and some dialogue that contained Spanish was reverted to English. I never gave this person authorization to use my work, and they literally took complete ownership of it, even stating: "It took me 5 hours to make." When, in reality, "Lapdog" took me 2 days and even more to edit and write. 🤧😅

I was greatly upset when I saw this; honestly, I was shocked for a good while before getting advice from my sis, @powerful-niya, on how to handle this situation. I had completely forgotten that plagiarism and the stealing of one's work could even happen, so when this occurred, it really took me by surprise. 😔

What further hurt me was the sight of this person fully claiming my work as theirs. They received many asks and comments about how good "their" story was and when a part 2 would be posted, and they responded saying: "Hii!! So a ton of people have been asking me about a part 2, and I mentioned that I would think about making the part two." And this one really got to me: "So some wise words would be to stick around for a bit, to see if it gets uploaded or not, but don't take this as a definite yes, because I'm still not sure."

It literally sounded like they were waiting on my second part of Lapdog to be uploaded to simply steal that one as well. I held very conflicting emotions: hurt, anger, sadness, and possibly even a little fear. However, with the help of some great besties here on Tumblr and from home, I was able to get through it. Here's a shoutout to those wonderful individuals, and I'm so thankful for you, girlies. I really appreciate the support! ❤😊

@serpentineaerodynamics, @grumpypixistix, @powerful-niya, @luvrxbunny, @amariiyagurl

(Also, thank you once again to the person who initially told me about this; I'm extremely grateful!) ❤

Lastly, I didn't make this post to spread hate to this person; that's the last thing I want. I uploaded this to spread awareness of my situation and how wrong it is to steal someone's work, who've poured every ounce of themselves into it, to simply get attention. 😕

Despite having little to no time to write, I still try to do a small amount on the weekends or in my free time (which is rare), but I try even still because I really enjoy writing, particularly writing about Miguel. So, that's why this incident greatly hurt me.

It's why I'm also thankful that I was able to take care of it, as the post has been removed; but I just wanted to notify my followers and anyone from their page who was deceived about what happened and why "their" story was removed from their blog.

Thank you, and I hope you all have a wonderful rest of your day/night. Do not spread hate and steal others' work; it'll only bring harm to yourself in the end. Love you all and stay safe! ❤🤓👋🏽

[starbylers]

Here’s 7 of my favourite Byler proofs just from season 4. Pretty sure we all know these but just a refresher if anyone is feeling doubtful <3

Camera focusing on men wrestling when in Mike’s POV

There is no other explanation for this shot: Mike was watching the boys. Hinting at his sexuality is the only reasoning here that has actual narrative purpose.

Symbolism in the final scene

The dying Mlvn flowers vs the blooming flowers edited between Mike and Will.

El walking away from the love triangle framing, alone. Mike and Will centred as a pair between the other endgame couples. This is not an accident, the way everyone is positioned in twos is incredibly staged and deliberate.

Mike’s bedroom walls

The shirtless male dragon on a literal rainbow poster (this one is so obvious I have to laugh). Other characters have pictures of the gender they’re shown to be attracted to on their walls, why is it any different for Mike? And of course the one way sign. Set design is a professional career, these things were not thrown in at random. A character’s room is supposed to give us insight into who they are and their story.

The narrative. The most basic but strong evidence that exists.

El lying to Mike for months. Mike avoiding touching Will and pretending not to look at him in the airport, after finding out he likes a girl. Mike and El fighting and Mike using gaslighting language and shifting blame. El leaving Mike behind with ‘from El’. Their relationship is on the rocks. Will and Mike having multiple interrupted heart to hearts. Borderline flirting and definite gazing into each other’s eyes in the Dear Billy talk. Mike feeling insecure and inferior in his relationship. Will’s secret love confession making Mike feel happy and better about himself. That same confession encouraging Mike to give the monologue. The monologue being completely impersonal and containing at least one 100% confirmed lie (love at first sight). El fails to achieve her goal (save Max) despite Mike’s words. El having no response to Mike’s long-awaited ‘I love you’ when it’s been days.

Suzie’s house foreshadowing episode 9

Mike & Suzie’s dad both hit by the arrow (to show he represents Mike)

‘It looked genuine’ do I need to say more?

Also this foreshadowing is backed up by one of Suzie’s sibling’s lines ‘too much salt’ (aka reference to the salt bath).

The Suzie’s house sequence has absolutely no purpose to the plot. It exists for parallel purposes.

Fruit on pizza metaphor interrupting Mike’s alleged ‘I love you’ attempt

Mike: ‘That’s blasphemous! Putting fruit on pizza?’

Argyle: ‘Try before you deny.’ El: ‘It’s good!’

I think this metaphor is pretty self-explanatory. (Trying the ‘fruit’ = exploring his sexuality, Mike thinks it’s wrong, specifically using the word ‘blasphemous’ (which in simple terms is defined as ‘to disrespect God or religion’, and we know Mike grew up in a homophobic small town in the 80s). There are more detailed explanations of this elsewhere on Tumblr, this is just a mini summary).

Also, Argyle calling Mike Romeo (reference to a doomed relationship).

Again, this scene had absolutely no purpose plotwise or character-wise (at least explicitly). It was pure symbolism.

‘Straight doesn’t make sense’ map joke

Mike: ‘Straight, straight, straight…right on the money, as I said.’

Jonathan: ‘It just doesn’t make sense.’

Yet again, no plot or character purpose for this dialogue, or at least not for wording it this way. This was clearly a joke alluding to Mike’s sexuality (and him possibly being in denial), similar to the telemarketing joke in s3 (‘El? Sorry, not interested’).