#i'm bad at writing scenes with lots of people in

[sylvia-und-sybille]

💯 [100] How many words does your WIP currently have? How many words do you hope it’ll have when it’s done? 2.3K+ now, and whatever happens, that happens.

⌛️ [Hourglass] How long have you been working on this WIP? 3 days.

📚 [Books] Is this WIP part of a series or standalone? AU location (starts as) and aged-up characters.

🎀 [Bow] How many named characters are in this WIP? How many do get a POV? OTP only. Even as 3rd person's point of view there's little of point of view at all (as thoughts or just about a person alone.)

�� [Heart] What is your favorite moment in this WIP? OTP talk & do things together.

🎶 [Notes] Do you have any other WIP related things, like moodboards, character portraits, playlists or similar? It can happen in 0.001% of cases (if, then fanfictions only.)

📖 [Open Book] What form do you want this WIP to take when it’s done? Posted, printed, published, etc? Posted only.

🐀 [Rat] Name three reasons why this WIP is great at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.) Romance, as it's about a lot of love (as in every fanfiction about them.)

🐁[Mouse] Name three reasons why this WIP is horrible at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.) Humour. Unfortunately, no funny moments.

🔎 [Magnifier] Is there a phrase/word you know you use too often? Will you change it in editing? So (for years.) If exaggerate, the answer is, so what? So to be it. | Whenever possible, I try to find other way to glue parts of looong sentences and not to break them into shorter ones. The writer of the original version had looong sentences as well and paragraphs can seem almost endless in many cases.

🍖 [Meat] How many fictional people were harmed in the making of this WIP? EVERY SINGLE of my fanfictions & original stories has happy end (unless past when I wanted to write about harm done to or defeat of a bad or unpleasant character.) In the case of latest WIP fanfiction: deep sadness of both, character 2: wish to cry before relief, no harm.

🌈 [Rainbow] If at the beginning of your WIP the characters knew about the end, would they kill you to stop you from writing it? They would look forward to a plot twist (mostly character 2, as character 1 had an idea.)

‍🎨 [Palette] If your WIP was a color, which color would it be? Rainbow, as they deserve.

🍩 [Donut] What’s the weirdest thing someone eats in your WIP? What’s the best thing? No food or drinks are mentioned (yet?)

🔒 [Lock] Would you let your family, friends, or other people you know in real life read your WIP? No, and I almost don't know people in real life. Yes, I'm so called "live under a rock."

🖋️ [Pen] Describe your WIP in a single, terrible sentence. At first, the two are icebergs, but very, very soon, nothing is under water . . . (They talk about character 1 as having an iceberg, so . . .) . . . positive plot twist, philosophical discussion, something else unexpected (positive again.) (Note: something else is before plot twist, though. | I've had to search for answers to at least understand how such description can be possible.)

❌ [Cross] What would your WIP get cancelled on Twitter for? What does it mean even? If as not accepted, one of important parts is gender non-conformity. Those who are against girls & women who don't look feminine can be highly displeased. BUT what can I say, the version the fanfiction is based on has scenes with character 2 in man's shirt. So yes, haters can hate as long as they want.

UPDATE a day after: I've had an idea (chapter 2, not one-shot as it was planned initially) which is the reason to "get cancelled on Twitter," but I don't care. The idea supposed to be a part of some future fanfiction (no matter which, but based on the modern version of the story,) but the wish to add this to the current one was too strong, so it will be here :D The first chapter discussed above has two plot twists, but this idea is an enormous plot twist. Second plot twist & new one will result in (in my opinion, at least) it's too good to be true | unrealistic, but I don't care. I want this to exist, so it will.

Random WIP Ask Game

💯 [100] How many words does your WIP currently have? How many words do you hope it'll have when it's done?

⌛️ [Hourglass] How long have you been working on this WIP?

📚 [Books] Is this WIP part of a series or standalone?

🎀 [Bow] How many named characters are in this WIP? How many do get a POV?

💖 [Heart] What is your favorite moment in this WIP?

🎶 [Notes] Do you have any other WIP related things, like moodboards, character portraits, playlists or similar?

📖 [Open Book] What form do you want this WIP to take when it's done? Posted, printed, published, etc?

🐀 [Rat] Name three reasons why this WIP is great at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.)

🐁[Mouse] Name three reasons why this WIP is horrible at being insert genre here. (You can send a genre, or let the recipient pick one.)

🔎 [Magnifier] Is there a phrase/word you know you use too often? Will you change it in editing?

🍖 [Meat] How many fictional people were harmed in the making of this WIP?

🌈 [Rainbow] If at the beginning of your WIP the characters knew about the end, would they kill you to stop you from writing it?

‍🎨 [Palette] If your WIP was a color, which color would it be?

🍩 [Donut] What's the weirdest thing someone eats in your WIP? What's the best thing?

🔒 [Lock] Would you let your family, friends, or other people you know in real life read your WIP?

🖋️ [Pen] Describe your WIP in a single, terrible sentence.

❌ [Cross] What would your WIP get cancelled on Twitter for?

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Island of the Procrastinating Brain

I swear, my brain is actively trying to drive me insane.

Back in 2022 it came up with a plot for @alex51324 's "Island of the Gays" where the Duke of Crowborough comes to the Island because, well, by this point the man's less of a human being than he is a walking bundle of neurosis. I got through a couple of scenes before my brain got tired and stalled out, but I still have a good frame work. Every once in awhile, I come back and poke at it and get out a few more sentences. Maybe even a paragraph or two.

Yeah, have I mentioned I'm not a fast writer?

And Phillip does NOT want to deal with his issues and Thomas does NOT want to deal with Phillip, which, okay, FAIR, but that's kinda the point of the whole thing. But in the meantime my brain still wants to write Phillip on the Island, so what's it done?

Come up with a sequel, naturally!

And it really, really wants to write this sequel despite the fact I can't do it properly until I've written the first piece, which neither my brain or my characters seems interested in, because they are all PUNKS, but my brain will NOT stop thinking about this hypothetical sequel which, at this point, will never be written.

So I'm just going to write out the summary for the thing here, in case anyone's curious and wants a laugh, because I can and maybe it'll galvanize the lump of grey cells in my skull to be productive. Maybe. Not holding my breath.

Things you need to know before going into this:

Random.org has decided that Thomas is married to Peter Fitzroy for this one, which is kinda important for Thomas's characterization.

Phillip only kinda counts as human at this point, but he's actively trying to fix that. The results are mixed.

It was inspired by a couple of polls I ran when I was trying to figure out where I was taking the first piece (hey! I have the last scene written!) and the suggestions that Phillip might like working in some sort of architectural field (believe that was from @o-rchidae) and that he wind up married with an older working class bloke who would not take his shit.

Right then. Let's go.

-

Okay, so, this takes place a couple of years after the Walking Disaster of Crowborough arrived. At one point he was tapped to help with building or repairs or some such and he realized he liked it, so he's taken to studying books on building and architecture and has joined up with the local work crew. The problem is, he's basically teaching himself out of books and then applying it to real life, so he keeps getting ideas about "Say, why don't we do this thing THIS way?" and while it'll seem like a reasonable idea, there is, in fact, a very good reason NOT to do it that way, but because a) he's a Duke and b) a bunch of people hate him, on general principle if nothing else, everyone just goes "Oh, okay, sure" and the do it that way and…it fails. And the people who hate him laugh and it's obvious that EVERYONE knew it was a bad idea and he gets frustrated, but he wont' say it, because a) Duke and b) boys don't cry.

And this goes on for awhile.

After a bit, though, a new guy shows up who has lots of experience building things. It was kinda his job before he got here. He is educated in the ways of Building Things and knows what's up. He's also at least ten years Phillip's senior and has limited patience for upper class twits, so when he joins the crew and is informed there's this know-it-all-Duke who's always demanding they do things his way (by which we mean 'making suggestions that everyone just goes along with'), even though it's stupid and wastes time and resources, this guy goes "Pff, not on MY watch!"

And sure enough, the next time Phillip makes one of his suggestions, instead of "Yeah, sure, okay" he gets "We're not doing that." Why? "'Cause it's a stupid idea that won't work." WHY? "Because (insert full explanation of why the thing wouldn't work)." And Phillip stops asking and the rest of the crew cheers and laughs at how the old guy sure showed him and they anticipate an end to the questions.

THIS TOTALLY BACKFIRES.

Instead Phillip, who had actually been kinda slowing down on the suggestions over time, is making ALL of the suggestions, ALL of the times, and arguing every last aspect of the suggestion with Old Timer before giving up. The crew can't put up a fence without an argument. Old Timer starts calling Phillip 'Phil'. Rather than tell him to stop, Phillip just starts calling Old Timer by a similar nickname, which Old Timer ignores, because not giving in to his own trick, oh no. There's talk of starting a police department in case they murder each other.

After this has gone on for awhile there is a Big Dramatic Plot Twist and the Old Timer goes out into the woods for something and…doesn't come back in a timely manner. He stays gone long enough for people to get worried and mount a search. To everyone's shock, Phillip wants to come. He's quite insistent on the point. They finally agree to put him in Thomas's party because he and Thomas "get along now" (read: Thomas has spent enough time with Peter talking him down that he can tolerate Phillip's presence under the right circumstances as long as he doesn't say anything). The parties go out and before long, Thomas and Phillip's party has the good luck to find Old Timer. He's accidentally been injured badly enough he can't walk and crawling through the woods is not easy going. The manner of this accident wasn't a super obvious bad idea, but that could maybe have been avoided with a bit more thought, perhaps, with luck. Most of the party just nods and goes "Yeah, sounds about right, could have happened to anyone."

…Phillip flips straight out and starts screaming at Old Timer for being an idiot who could have got himself killed. And then storms off a ways into the woods, back toward the village, leaving everyone else wondering a) the best way to get the injured man back home and b) what the heck just happened with the prissy little Duke. Thomas gets deputized to go find out what Phillip's problem is. There is protesting involved, but he finally gives in because he'd like to be home by dinner, thank you very much.

Phillip has, by this point, stopped to have a smoke, which both gives Thomas an opportunity to catch up and, thankfully, a scent to find him by. Thomas asks him why on earth he's so upset that Old Timer is hurt since the two of them hate each other and everyone figured Phillip would LOVE it if the other man died…

And that's when he finds out that everyone's had that relationship all backwards. Phillip doesn't hate the Old Timer, oh no! He loves being called 'Phil'. He absolutely adores the fact that when he asks "Why don't we do this?", rather than just go "Yeah, okay" and waste time and resources doing something HE KNOWS WON'T WORK, the Old Timer says 'no' and, over the course of the argument, actually EXPLAINS why not, which means Phillip ACTUALLY LEARNS THINGS. The more he argues, the better he becomes at building things and he doesn't have to try and decipher what some book is telling him or guess what the book might be leaving out and he LOVES IT and if the Old Timer had died, how would he learn things then? When Thomas points out that he'd learn just as much - maybe more - if he just asked the Old Timer to teach him things rather than argue, Phillip low key panics because what if he figures out Phillip WANTS to learn and stops talking to him or refuses because he doesn't like him at all?

By this point Thomas is a) trying to remember if he was ever THIS paranoid, and praying he wasn't and b) wondering what on earth to do with a Duke who is clearly in love with a crusty old working class codger, but hasn't figured it out yet.

He decides to tell Rouse and make it HIS mess to deal with.

Phillip and the Old Timer eventually get married and get a cottage of their own and Phillip about dies happy at the idea of a home that he actually owns instead of something that he's the custodian of for the next generation who will be the custodians for the generation after that and so on.

[kirain]

Do you think Spite cares about Rook and the others?

This is an interesting question. Canonically, spirits in general don't feel things the same way mortals do. They certainly have emotions, but they're less complex than ours, often aligning with what type of spirit they are. Spite is a malevolent spirit, therefore his emotions are mainly negative.

That said, since he's linked to a human, it is possible Spite's feelings are influenced by Lucanis, and vice versa. Unfortunately, the game doesn't go into a whole lot of detail on this, which is one of the many complaints I have with the writing. As we've seen from Dragon Age II, Anders was severely influenced by his spirit, to the point that it became lethal to the team, depending on your choices. Moreover, when you try to twist a spirit from its original purpose, it becomes a demon, and I'm forced to wonder if that includes making them feel more complex emotions.

Emmrich believes spirits are capable of expanding beyond their naturally simplistic state, which could very well be true if we consider the Evanuris—but Spite's case is fundamentally different. He doesn't take on a physical form and he didn't leave the Fade of his own accord. Manfred is a spirit of curiosity, making him a benevolent type, and he has no trouble distinguishing right from wrong (even pointing at Hezenkoss and yelling "bad"), but his emotions align with his nature and Emmrich is the perfect mentor, allowing him to fulfill his purpose.

Spite doesn't have the same luxury. Lucanis is an assassin, but he has no interest in harming innocents, he doesn't care about revenge, he isn't sadistic, and he even stops Spite from killing his cousin in a rage. So the questions we should really be asking are: can malevolent spirits feel positive emotions without being corrupted? Would Spite change at all? And was he already twisted from something else when Zara pulled him from the Fade? Solas implies he is or was actually a spirit of determination, but his agreement with Lucanis may have altered his purpose. This was such a missed opportunity that I wish the devs expanded on.

Now, whether or not he cares about Rook and the team, there is a factual answer. I don't even think it's open to interpretation at this point. Years ago, following the lore, I would've said "probably not", but he definitely shows some form of affinity for them, even "missing" Manfred if he dies. Yet the moment that gave me pause when it comes to Spite was in the Heights of Athim, when I neared the giant well. I managed to find a clip and I'd like to explain it.

The spirit in the well is a spirit of despair. These spirits lure people in with promises of something that brings them comfort, like it did to the farmers in the Hossberg Wetlands. In that scene, it's trying to lure Spite in using Rook's scent—meaning Rook is a comfort to Spite. He also gets irrefutably angry at Solas for hurting them. So whether or not this muddles the lore a little, I think it's safe to say Spite absolutely adores Rook.

[thekristen999]

2024 Fanfic in Review

I got tagged by all kinds of people for a version of this. @spotsandsocks @dangerpronebuddie @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus and I'm sure others.

I wrote 66,000k words and five stories last year. All buddie except for one. More than I thought. I tried to write outside my comfort zone on a few things and had fun with suspense on my favorite story of the year.

April

Whose Attention? 6k

Eppy 7.04 missing scenes. Like others, I wrote this after the episode, but instead of focusing on the kiss. I wrote a Tommy POV of his pursuit of Eddie while Buck slowly goes insane. Because that's what happened to me. Lol.

June

Fight In the Shadows 31k

The 118 with Athena get trapped in an underground lab while fighting for their lives. Think suspense thriller meets horror film with everyone getting chances to shine and be bad ass competent. Also lots of whump for all. Of course this was my fav :)

July

Eyes Are Watching You 8k

Rival spies AU Buddie edition with secret homage to The Continental Hotel.

September

Drawn To You 4.7k

Buck has a competence kink. He especially has a competence kink when it comes to Eddie.

Who doesn't?

November

The Sweet Spot 13k

A mythical bakery AU. Magical portals, strange beings. Eddie and Buck pining for each other while making baked goods. Yes, Chef :)

I'm sure everyone and their mother have done this but tagging a few people anyways :)

@homerforsure @mellaithwen @epicbuddieficrecs @tizniz

@favouritealias @thelikesofus @inell @diazsdimples

@spaceprincessem @fleurdebeton @ci5mates @deedo2313

@steadfastsaturnsrings @thebestbooksaround @ronordmann

[klorophile]

I agree and I don't at the same time... I've been having mixed feelings about this take and I'm gonna try to put some words on it.

First of, Arcane absolutely is a modern tragedy, yes, of course, no doubts about that. It's even presented with a classic theatre colored structure: different acts composed of episodes (scenes), and even works in threes to be fancy. And I mean... the characters, their actions, the consequences, the themes, ... You see how things will go bad, and they do go bad because of their premices. Tragedy all the way.

Yes. ...For season 1. But season 2? I personally expected season 2 not to be a tragedy, or at least not fully. Because I feel like... "what's the point?" Season 1 was already fantastically sad. Absolutely all the characters were shaken at their core (to the point of death for some), everyone was facing their big ass consequences by the end of it. Why repeat that in season 2? Because the message of "you always pay the consequences of your actions" had already been 100% delivered, I feel like there was no need to repeat it for another 9 episodes. In a way, I feel like it's redundant.

And maybe that wouldn't have been a problem. I mean, Game of Thrones told us from the start "you're gonna cry, 'cause the world is horrible and that's it" and repeated it throughout all the seasons, sure, but I think one of the differences is that Game of Thrones never promised anything else. While I know I feel like Arcane did.

One of their motto for the second season was that everything was going to be turned upside down, a 'story of opposites' as Silco says, they wanted to force the characters to be the opposite of what they usually are (Vi with no one to protect, Jinx a hero, ruthless Caitlyn, not alive silco ToT etc). And well... If season 1 was a complete tragedy and season 2 is going to be the upside down version, then why is it still a tragedy?

And I know, writing those words, that the obvious answer is "because everyone still face consequences", "because the world is a tragedy no matter who you are", "because you can't escape", etc etc. Okay. Maybe (most probably) I'm just a pussy who can't stand sad endings, especially when I have a blorbo from this show. Maybe.

But I think a lot of us are feeling betrayed, not just disappointed, hence the strong reactions. For @angelinthefire's "Because I think a lot of the complaints you see come from some people result from expecting it to be a certain kind of story that it's not." I wonder: Wasn't it the story itself that made us expect another genre at the end? Like I said, the part 1 tragedy then part 2 same tragedy feels weird.

And, in all honesty, I hate that I am saying all of that, because I completely agree that people should just tell the story they want to tell however they want to tell it. I did not expect to find myself complain about something being a tragedy instead of having a good ending.

But the other thing is that I feel like season 2 is not completely consistant about its 'consequences', and also, well, a bit cruel... Because if you look at Caitlyn, she paid very little, she's just forgiven by the narrative like that, because the writers decided that she was 'good', and that in spite of her actions. And don't read this as Caitlyn hate, I absolutely love her, but I think that doing this to her kept her away from the character development she could have had. I feel like they made her narratively good, but also less narratively intersting than she could have been.

Meanwhile, Jinx had to die with Warwick, and the message is that she finally pays the consequences of her actions from when she was 12 and accidentally got her family killed. And that's... brutal. Of course, I am a Jinx stan, so I'm not objective at all, I am aware. But if I am a Jinx stan, it's because the show made her oh so relatable. A lot of people see themselves in her. And that makes killing her a little tricky I think... Especially as what she is being 'punished' for was an accident, that in the end does not get to be forgiven.

And I mean... I think all of this could have been okay, actually. Season 2 could have been a second tragedy, why not. But what bothers me the most is simply that it does not work as well as season 1.

In season 1, the end is unescapable. That is precisely why it's a tragedy. Everyone is aiming towards it, everything is falling falling falling to this. But I am not convinced by season 2. Viktor and Jayce had to be obliterated by the arcane to save the world? Ok, sure, but then explain it! How does it work? What did they actually stop? Because the Hexgate is still standing there, hextech still exists, Piltover is still what it is... Events are going to repeat themselves. And sure, there won't be Viktor for a new Glorious Evolution, which is for the better, but what how why Ekko what what happened?? It's just not explained enough. If it's all about consequences then the arcane and the wild rune should be explained better because nothing feels like consequences, it just feel like plot written for itself. It doesn't feel like a tragedy, it feels like a story written by people trying to knot an ending. Vi and Jinx can't have a relationship anymore, because they always fall in this codependant nocious thing so Jinx has to fake her own death and flee the country all on her own? Ok, that's interesting. But why show that they could and actually did begin to mend things between each other then? (the both of them working together as equals, Vi asking for Jinx's opinion, Jinx learning to be the big sister with Isha and by seeing Vi with her alcohol problem, ...) Why show Vander and Silco (Vi and Jinx parallels) together if by the end the conclusion is that you cannot mend a relationship when it's been too bad for too long?

Anyway, I feel like what I disagree with in season 2 (one of the things at least, because we're not talking about the Piltover/Zaun storytelling here, amongst other things) is that we were told that it did not have to end badly, and then it did anyway, and for reasons that are not solid enough. I agree with season 1 because I see how it couldn't have turned differently. It shows us its heroes, and because they are what they are, the end is what it is. But in season 2, I just feel like the sad ending was forced. It's the other way around: the end has to be sad, so the characters are going to do this and that. And I think that is also a part of why we read the 'consequences' with the morale glasses on: because if it is more forced than logically flowing, then we see the choices the writers deliberately made, who they chose to keep alive and who they did not, and we wonder why.

They say it's about consequences, but it feels more like they are forcing their characters in a direction because they want the end to go a certain way. It's not inescapable like season 1. And if it's not inescapable, then maybe we deserved a good ending for season 2. Or at least an episode 10 that would be an alternate ending or something.

I've been thinking about how I would most concisely sum up the plot of Acane. Because I think a lot of the complaints you see come from some people result from expecting it to be a certain kind of story that it's not.

And I think the most concise way to put it is that Arcane is about consequences. The first episode starts with an explosion, that the characters spend the rest of the arc dealing with the repercussions of. And then the first arc ends with two massive events - Powder killing her family and the invention of hextech - that they spend the entire rest of the show dealing with.

I think most of the stories we get from Western media are about achieving or accomplishing something, or the failure to achieve something. And you can frame Arcane in those terms. But I think to best understand the story, you have to step out of that typical framework. Because the thing with an achievement-based story is that there is a particular end goal in mind, and I don't think Arcand has that.

Like take Vi and Jinx, for example. A typical way to frame their story would be that it's about two sisters trying to rebuild their relationship. That presupposes a certain ending: They either succeed or fail at their relationship, and that's what the focus is on.

But it's not about that. It's about - how do you deal with an event that fundamentally changes you?

In season 1, Vi's answer was to recapture what things were like before. In season 2, they try to redo the past (saving Vander) and get a different outcome, but that's impossible. The answer comes with Ekko - to build something new.

And this is all over the show - action and reaction, how the arcane wakes up, killing is a cycle.

[getsuuna]

ok so here's my complaint of the day!

I wrote this during the moment I felt like complaining and I was sleepy so it MIGHT be a little dramatic 😇

every time I'm devouring a SaneGiyuu fic because I like its plot for a while, here goes a smut scene that never fails to make me sigh and mayhaps roll my eyes

most of the times I know I'll get icked but decide to read because "what if it's not that bad",, then it's almost always the same shit over and over: Sanemi topping, bonus points if there's even just slight roughness (yikes😬...), Giyuu being loud and being described in degrading terms [and basically none of this was told beforehand in tags nor notes, almost as if it was the "normal" perception of SaneGiyuu for most people...??? shut UP??😃]

respectfully, it's ass.

I'm tired, these tropes are overused and fucking inaccurate dare I say, unless there's a reason in the fanfic's AU specifically but I still find it to be too common and weird. if you want a somewhat accurate SaneGiyuu pay gorn (/hj /ref) it must be them switching AND being romantic. where the FUCK is the romance,, the last one I've read now wasn't that bad because it still mentioned adoration, kisses and love overall, but there's almost always something that icks me even just in the few fics I've read so far, and it makes my reading experience sm slower and uncomfortable afterwards even if I initially loved the fic

now, as I've stated multiple times, I hate the "rough daddy dom Sanemi" and "submissive twink Giyuu" headcanons with every single inch of my entire being in&out including my whole soul /drm,,, and not just in sex scenes but in their overall dynamic, it's so enraging I don't care if someone disagrees I'd just stare and judge??😭😭😭my main purpose when I complain abt this stuff is to look for other people with my same mindset (thank GOD I saw lots of them so far though)

the disrespect, and the fetishization of queer couples in which one "has to look/act more like the opposite gender" and inevitably the one who has more apparent feminine traits has to be the sub, bc they associate femininity with submissiveness. heteronormativity and borderline patriarchy-inducted stereotypes?? woah./neg

let Sanemi receive, it won't make him any less of a man nor threaten his masculinity I promise🥺 same goes for Giyuu if he was actually written like the manly strong man and SOLDIER he fucking is? I still wouldn't really really prefer it but I would respect the preference in that case.. heated arguments about who tops or bottoms are inherently fetishizing and stupid, however if I see a (weird) pattern I'm gonna hate it sorry not sorry😭🙏🏻

also please if someone can recommend SaneGiyuu fics with NO smut or actually well written sex scenes with them preferably switching (it's the only actual realistic trope and I stand by this fact) I'll be thankful, and I'm taking the occasion to also recommend "You And Me, Alone Together" by Katz3 (yes there's also occasional sex scenes and yes they're perfect in every possible way, the whole fic is!! I have yet to find a better fic and I know I won't, despite it being underrated); or maybe if you have fic recs in which Giyuu exclusively tops if there's NSFW scenes, out of nothing but pure spite, I would be thankful as well🥰

one last thing bc I usually get heavily misinterpreted whenever I complain abt anything: I'm NOT saying "GiyuSane is better" (even if that's what *I* personally think, due to how I interpret their writing and how I headcanon their relationship dynamic which has nothing much different from most, I just don't twinkify/overly-feminize/infantilize Giyuu nor I over-sexualize/booktok-fy Sanemi), I'm just saying it's more realistic if they switched: it's more accurate, more inclusive, less mischaracterizing, less stereotyped and therefore less heteronormative and less fetishizing...

and about the degrading and roughness and all that I mentioned, I just despise it. for every ship and every trope, whether m/f, f/f or m/m. it takes romance away imo and I won't be sugarcoating it with "oh but it's consensual so it's fine" nor negotiating it in order not to piss off the people who like this kind of content; I'm sorry, keep your preferences, but I won't be shutting the fuck up if I have to read it every goddamn time I naively think there's normal and loving sex scenes. put tags to warn readers who don't wanna read that shit so they can skip it if they still gave the fic a shot, please🙏🏻

[celtigxr]

THE PINK DREAD - CH. 31 (Masterlist)

Chapter Summary: All gather in the Throne Room to hear Ser Vaemond Velaryon's petition. Never a dull day at the Red Keep. Word Count: 6874 CHAPTER WARNINGS: Show canon scene. Violence, gore, slut-shaming/misogyny, bit of angst, canon death, fat-shaming/fatphobia, bullying mention, depression/mental health mention. Lots of fun things.

Series tags: Aemond x Plus size!OfC, Aegon x Plus size!OfC, Celtigar!ofc, Plot with Smut, mdni 18+, Aemond End Game, Angst, Comedy, The Dragons Don't Dance, slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers.

Credits: Lace Banner by Aquazero, pearl divider by Pommecita

Notes: I'm BAAACCKK. Hope everyone had happy holidays and a great new year. Mine was adequate, nothing to report other than get a lil annoyed at the bf. But that was overshadowed by a band I listen to dming a happy new years. I won't say who, because I'm trying to manifest something rn, and I don't want to jinx it. but hint: 😴🚶🐕🐈 Now, this chapter still is around the time I was really struggling to write. Re reading it, it's not entirely as bad as I thought it was, but you might be able to tell where I was getting frustrated and losing my muse. Or not, idk, maybe I hid it well.

There was nothing more intimidating than the Iron Throne when it sat unoccupied. It was almost like the ghost of Aegon the Conqueror still lingered there when the current king did not, watching and judging his dynasty before him. Valeana wondered if this is what he imagined for his line of Fire and Blood; had he predicted his grandchildren, and great grandchildren to fight amongst themselves? Did he predict that his heir to be a woman, where a son with his name stood idly by? Did he predict that his legacy would be put into question?

Valeana also wondered if Targaryens would have ended up this way, had it been Visenya’s line that survived, and not her sister’s. Perhaps their people would not see them as weak, as they once thought of King Aenys.

“Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds,” The Lord Hand spoke after the King had descended upon his throne of iron and war. “We gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark.”

His words were not appreciated by those that suffered for this petition. Valeana stood by her family, who stood behind Alicent and her children. The Throne Room was not at full capacity, but the Lords of the Great Houses had gathered, some with their wives, some with their heirs. The Baratheons, the Starks, the Hightowers, The Arryns, the Lannisters, the Tyrells, the Tullys, the Greyjoys, even representatives from the Martells were present. The Realm knew what this moment meant – It was not just a petition over who would inherit Driftmark, it was a petition to prove or disprove that Rhaenyra’s three eldest were illegitimate. Bastards. It would not only take away Lucerys’ inheritance, but Jacaerys' and Joffrey’s. If that happened, the Realm may very want Rhaenyra to be removed as heir to the Throne as punishment for her carnal transgressions, and effectively move the line of succession onto Aegon the Elder, bypassing even her legitimate fair-haired sons she sired with Daemon. 

“The crown will now hear the petitions: Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon,” Otto stepped away, and all in the room watched with bated breath as Vaemond moved from the spot he stood next to his uncle’s wife and grandchildren and took his place at the foot of the dias. 

“My King,” he bowed, then looked upon Alicent and Otto. “My Queen, my Lord Hand.” His eyes return to Viserys, whose face was already set in stone, his lips thinned and already showing his disapproval. Alas, Vaemond’s confidence was bordering on delusion, and did not let that deter him in the slightest. Valeana took a step forward, putting herself just behind the backs of Aemond and Aegon, so she could have a better look. 

Aemond slightly turned to her, a silent look that communicated everything. He could not yet show his affections publicly – he had not taken the time to converse with Maris just yet to end their very public courtship (even if it had grown apparent that it was dwindling). Aegon, however, took pleasure in taking advantage of that fact, for when Valeana appeared at his side, he wove his arm around hers and laced her fingers with his own. 

Valeana wasn’t entirely sure what horror show she should dare to look at: Vaemond’s petition, Aemond’s fury, or her brother and father’s heated disapproval behind her. 

“The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria,” Vaemond began his speech, hands clasped in front of him as he not only spoke to his monarch, but to the audience, to the lords and ladies of Westeros. “For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas.” 

Not entirely true, Valeana mused. House Celtigar and House Velaryon ruled ceremoniously, while the latter was more naval and militant, the former was more in trade and piracy. Though that last bit was more of an unsavoury historical anecdote that her father will never acknowledge. 

“When the Doom fell on Valyria, House Targaryen, House Velaryon and House Celtigar became the last of their kind. Our forebears came to this land knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name

“I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my uncle’s seat. I am Lord Corlys’ closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins–”

“As it does in my sons, the offspring of Leanor Velaryon,” Rhaenyra spoke up, interrupting the knight without remorse. Her face was remarkably neutral despite the bite of her words, reminding everyone in the grand room of her sons’ birthrights. With eyes trained onto the floor ahead of her, she went on, “If you cared so much about your house’s blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir.” She said this now looking at him directly, and Valeana could only watch, enraptured and captivated by her strength and conviction. “No, you only speak for yourself, and for your own ambition.” 

“You have a chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra,” Otto interrupted, overlapping the princess’ words. “Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.”

King Viserys was rubbing his eyelids, already tired and weary. Valeana watched his face carefully as Vaemond continued his speech, claiming that Rhaenyra did not know a thing about Velaryon blood. Eyes darted around the room, as she watched Jacaerys catch Aemond’s eye, and Lucerys watched Vaemond with contempt. Daeron looked impossibly uncomfortable, eyes flickering around to everyone to gouge how he should react. And Aegon… Aegon simply shuffled in his spot, free hand moving to scratch his jaw. 

“This is bloody torture,” she heard him whisper. The only thing she could do was give his hand a squeeze in response and he gently squeezed back, rubbing his thumb over the back of her palm. 

When it was Rhaenyra’s turn to petition, her words were cut short when the King placed up his hand to halt her. 

“I must admit my confusion,” his words were laced with exhaustion, but with an underlying strength of a king. He had been patient, polite and courteous as he allowed Ser Vaemond to speak, since he did come all this way to do so. But now it was his turn, and he intended to speak on behalf of his daughter and Lord Corlys, the latter of which could not speak on his own behalf. “On why petitions are being heard over a settled succession.”

His statement was met with a second of strained silence before he continued, moving his head around the crowd before settling on his cousin. “The only one present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’ wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.” 

“Indeed, your grace,” The Queen Who Never Was spoke once everyone had settled their attention onto her. Her eyes flickered from Vaemond to Rhaenyra, then she moved over to place herself at the foot of the dias, before the Throne that in another life, would have been hers. 

“It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Leanor, to his trueborn son… Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed, nor did my support of him.” 

Rhaenys’ confession garnered a group reaction of surprise. It was under the assumption that the older princess had always disapproved of Rhaenyra the moment each son she birthed looked nothing like hers, and the circumstances of Leanor’s death seemed to put a rift between the like-minded princesses. Though it now seemed that bygones had become bygones. 

“As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire for her son, Luke, to marry Lord Corlys’ granddaughter, Rhaena… A proposal to which I heartily agree.” 

Hushed chatter befell the Throne Room. Rhaena and Luke shared a look with each other, subtle smiles upon their youthful places. This development certainly put a wedge in Ser Vaemond’s petition. He cried about blood purity, and yet here the solution laid plainly in front of the Kingdom. For those who believed that Luke was a bastard, the seat of Driftmark would no longer belong to the Velaryons in name only. Rhaena held that blood from her mother, and what's more, their children would be dragonriders, with their matching Targaryen blood between them. 

Valeana was quick to notice Vaemond’s displeasure and shock. 

“Well…” Viserys lifted his hand dismissively, “The matter is settled. Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

Just when people believed matters were settled, and the chatter started up again, Vaemond stepped forward after Rhaenys stepped back. “You break law and centuries of tradition, to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon–No,” he shook his head minutely. “I will not allow it.”

The King furrowed his brow, mouth popping open at the man’s gall. “Allow it? Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

This is where things had taken a turn for the worst. When Vaemond shook with anger, Valeana knew that all sense was lost. At the shout of “That!”, she startled next to the princes. Aegon turned to her slightly amused, and Aemond had moved closer to her until their shoulders touched. 

Vaemond pointed viciously at Lucerys, who surprisingly shrunk under the angered man. “Is no true Velaryon, and certainly, no cousin of mine.”

“Go to your chambers,” Rhaenyra whipped her head to her son, who also vibrated with emotion, lip curling over his teeth as if he wished to lash out on his own behalf. Then she turned to Vaemond, “You have said enough.”

Lucerys didn’t move, but his step father still kept a hand on his shoulder. 

“Lucerys is my trueborn grandson,” The King spoke lowly. “And you are no more than the son of the second son of Driftmark.”

“You may run your house as you see fit,” Vaemond bit back. Valeana held her breath, finding herself squeezing Aegon’s hand. “But you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom, and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned,” He swiveled back around to glare at the boy again, as if he were the reason for all his troubles, and not the adults that surrounded him. “I will not see it ended on the account of this–” His lips folded in between his teeth, and the air in the room stilled. Then as the slow seconds went by, Vaemond’s face relaxed, as if he could lose no more than he already had.

“Her children… are BASTARDS!”

“Seven Hells,” Valeana breathed out. The entire room was filled with loud murmurs, the King himself leaned forward on the Throne, his anger building in his chest, as weak as it was. 

“Oh, this is turning out to be quite the show,” Aegon whispered, his words laced with mirth.

A horror show. 

A very horrific, bloody show. 

“And she is,” Vaemond continued, punctuating every word as he burned his eyes onto Rhaenyra, then Daemon, and then finally the King. “A whore.”

The chorus of gasps filled the Throne Room. Everyone paced around, looking at each other in disbelief. Valeana glanced up at Aemond and saw his smirk, no different to Aegon’s. She knew of the princes’ animosity towards their half sister, who coveted all their father’s love, but as a woman, she could not help but feel disgusted by their reactions. With one glance of Helaena, she was relieved to see that she did not approve either, and when the two princes noticed their disapproval, their smirks dropped. At the very least Daeron had the decency to look scandalized, regardless of what his opinions were of Rhaenyra. 

The king ascended from his throne, his cane forgotten as he reached into his cloak and pulled out the cat’s claw dagger that was always strapped to him. 

“I will have your tongue for that–”

Valyrian steel sung in the air, swiftly and without mercy. The sound of blade cutting through flesh and bone dirtied Valeana’s ears, and the sight of Vaemond’s nearly headless body slumping on the floor now seared into her mind like a brand. Never before in her life had she seen such violence. Not even her fall down the stairs could compare. She had thought she would be impervious to such displays, having seen her own bone out of her flesh, and then watch her leg rot away before it was severed off with a saw. Though that was nothing in comparison to seeing a man’s head chopped off from his cheekbones, leaving his jaw and tongue atop what remained of his head. 

Helaena had turned away with her hands placed upon the sides of her head, her mother Alicent on her protectively to shield her from the gore. Daeron’s eyes widened in shock and horror, his hand flying to the sword on his belt as if it was muscle memory. Behind Valeana, Shyla and Floris both screamed, flying into the chest of Bartimos and their mother, with Clement shielding them from it. Arthor merely stood agape, the first time he, too, ever saw such an act. 

Valeana had jumped away, retching her hand out of Aegon’s in the pursuit to put herself as far away from the corpse as possible. It was Aemond who moved in front of her, hand upon her arm to keep her behind him, whilst Aegon stood like a statue, lips pulled into a frown and eyebrows up to his hairline, staring at Vaemond’s lifeless body as if he could not believe what he had just witnessed, what he was actively staring at. 

“He can keep his tongue,” Daemon stood there, hand placed on the pommel of Dark Sister. 

“Disarm him!” The Lord Hand shouted, the Kingsguard poised to attack.  

“No need,” the Rogue Prince replied casually, using the ends of his black tunic to wipe the blood off his sword and sheath it back into its scabbard.

Valeana tore her eyes away at last, blinking away rapidly, as if that would rid her of the image. It was then she brought her attention to where her hands had found rest. She gripped onto Aemond’s sleeve, both of her forearms caging his arm to her chest like a shield or a life preserver. 

“Valeana,” Clement’s presence loomed over her shoulder, his large hand firmly on her bicep. 

Valeana followed Aemond’s arm until she reached his face. He stared at her with a wide eye and a gritted jaw. His fingers flexed at her own sleeve, not wanting to let go either, but they were not in the privacy of their library. It took all her courage to let him go from her vice and allow Clement to pull her into his orbit. 

But when Valeana tore her eyes from Aemond, she landed them on Aegon, who saw the whole thing. His face was crestfallen, but only for a moment before his features pulled into a scowl, eyes glaring up at his younger brother. 

The petition had inevitably delayed the anticipated dinner of the Valyrian Houses, of which Vaemond had been invited to, mostly out of respect. It would be pushed to the next evening, as everyone was collectively in a state of shock and displacement. 

Valeana longed for solitude, she wished to be tucked in the reading nook of the late Aemma Arryn’s library, or laying in a nest of cushions and furs on the secret platform amongst the cliffs. Though for now, she settled on her bed chambers. Shyla was absent, she seemed to disappear after the Throne Room, along with Daeron it seemed. She was particularly distressed and the prince was concerned for her, leaving poor young Floris in the wind. Gods, Borros Baratheon is going to absolutely loathe the Celtigars after this Conclave was over with. 

Valeana was sitting cross legged in the middle of her bed, embroidering an image of a milkweed plant on a dark grey canvas. She intended to give the loop to Helaena as a thank you for her part last night. It was still such a bizarre recollection, that now felt like it was eons ago. Seeing a man’s head lopped off from the middle would do that to someone. 

Still, she wove every memory she made that night into the fabric of her mind. From the moment she saw Aemond splayed on the chair at the table, to that very morning when the warm orange glow of the dawn reflected against the silver tresses of his hair and pearlescent complexion of his skin. Valeana had woken up before him, and she took that privilege gently, savouring every moment. 

Aemond had tucked her under his arm at some point, and she was nestled on his upper arm, hand slayed on his chest while his nose nestled in the crown of her hair. They were both lying on their sides, legs tangled with each other, his hand resting on her hip and thigh. With gentle fingers, she traced the lines of his jaw, his nose, his scar, the gnarl frame of his sapphire eye, and brow, and then his lips that were parted as he breathed gently. Valeana noted how the skin around his perfect lid was red, the corner had a little sandy crust as if his eye had been tearing up during the night. 

With boldness, her hands moved southward, running along the muscles of his chest and stomach, humming in satisfaction at the warmth and feel of his body. It was art, truly; every ridge and curve, every bone and muscle, expertly carved by the Smith himself, designed in the likeness of the Warrior. 

Aemond roused from his sleep when her fingers trailed over the area below his belly button. He blinked away the sand from his good eye and gave a soft, grumbly hum. 

“Still not convinced I am a man?” He questioned softly with a hoarse, sleepy tone before his hand moved to her wrist and guided her to the crotch of his breeches. Valeana gave a soft gasp, or more of a hitch in her throat. She could feel him through the fabric and while he was soft, the muscle twitched at the contact. 

“Aemond–” He interrupted her with a peck on her lips, moving his hand up to the curve of her jaw to keep her there, so he could stare into her eyes. And that is where they remained until there was a knock on the library door, and Helaena’s gentle voice reminded them it was time. 

Valeana sighed contently down at her embroidery. Basking in the perfect evening and the perfect morning was enough to drown out the macabre events of that midday. Now the image of Aemond’s hardened body and Aegon’s thick cock permated her mind, creating a warm stir in her core. Alas, she was still bleeding, and she was not going to risk getting blood under her fingernails and all over her sheets to satiate her carnal hunger. Besides, there was a knock on the door, effectively ending her lewd thoughts. Clearing her throat, she called out: “come in.”

Clement entered the room, closing the door behind him as he did, “How are you doing?”

She offered him a half shrug, “Fine, I suppose.” 

Her brother took a seat at the edge of her bed, his body twisted so he rested his knee on the mattress, where he could look at her properly. “You’re doing remarkably well for someone who just witnessed their first execution.” 

“I do well with gore, I suppose. Finding severed feet on the beach on a regular basis could desensitize you to it,” her jest came out awfully stoic, as if she was serious. Though Valeana tended to joke when she was on the verge of anxiousness or sadness, if she wasn’t already thrown into the maelstrom of a fit. 

“And watching yours decay whilst attached to your body,” Clement added, his dark humour similar to her own. 

“Hm, that too. Perhaps the Stranger’s mark on me still lingers.” 

He hummed in agreement, unserious in his consideration for the statement. But then his face fell, and Valeana geared herself up for the real reason why he was there in her room. 

“Valeana…” He looked down on the bed, where his hand laid flat. He drummed his fingers on the duvet, like he was stalling so he could find the right words, or to rein in his censure. “I feel like you have become a stranger since we arrived at King’s Landing. You have been pulling yourself away every day from our family…and I can’t help but believe it is because of the princes.” 

Valeana leaned back into her headboard with a sigh, her loop forgotten in her lap. “Clement, I have been a stranger to this family for years…” Her eyes drifted over to the balcony. The Hydrangeas that Aemond left her were now placed in a vase next to her bed. 

“Not to me,” he shook his head vehemently. “We are full blooded siblings, Valeana. You and I have a bond that cannot be separated.”

Val tilted her head at him, a single eyebrow raised, “Clement, for half my life we were separated. I was here, and you were on the Isle with Ursula and Arthor. I am twenty, and yet I’ve only ever spent half my life with you, brother, and during that time I spent the better part of it locked in my rooms, despondent and longing for death.” 

Clement let his head sag at that, then raked his fingers through his short silver hair. He did not like dwelling on that dark part of her past, it still made him feel like a failure of a brother that he was not there for her when it happened, nor was he able to coax her out of the abyss in the aftermath. He reached out then, placing a hand on the ankle of her prosthetic, and although physically she could not feel it, the phantom of his touch tickled in the back of her mind as if she could. 

“You are the closest thing I have to mother, you know,” he said quietly, thumb moving along the ball joint. “I might have lost her, but I gained a sister in her stead, in her very image. I vowed over her grave that I would protect you, and I have failed thus far… I do not wish to continue that path any longer.”

When Valeana felt her eyes begin to water, she shut them immediately and bowed her head till her chin laid on her sternum, “Clement–”

“I saw you,” he said a bit forcefully. “You held Aegon’s hand one moment, and then clung to Aemond the next. Whatever it is you are doing, you must know it will end in heartbreak. Please, for your sake, sister, let them go… Jacaerys is an honourable man, who can offer you a great future–”

“I do not love him,” the words came out before she was able to filter them. 

Clement furrowed his brow as he tilted his head at her disbelievingly, “Then who is it you love? Aemond the Blackhearted or Aegon the Whoremongerer?” 

Sorrow was quickly being pulled into frustration. Valeana shook her head, “You only know the princes by their reputation, you do not know their character, the way they are with me–”

Clement pulled away, scoffing loudly, “I know Aemond is the cause of your first heartbreak, the reason why you walk with a wooden leg, and I know Aegon is the cause of your self hatred and the reason why you hide yourself from the world. This is all I need to know… So excuse me if I cannot fathom why you wish to consort with either of them, let alone harbour feelings.”

Valeana took a steady breath through her lips, her eyes closed to ground herself in the darkness behind her lids. “They have both reconciled with me.”

“Oh, they have, have they? When will they seek out father’s forgiveness then?” His question took her off guard. “Father was just as hurt as you were. He ended his friendship with the King over it… let go of his position on the Small Council, and left King’s Landing. Do not think you are the only victim here, sister.” 

“Please leave, Clement,” she ran her fingers over her eyes, where a headache was starting to bloom.

“I will not. I am not going to let you ignore the truth, Valeana… You have been causing an immense amount of stress on not only Ursula and father, but our sisters and brother as well. Everything has been revolving around your scandals, your love life, and it has put poor Shyla and Floris on the backburner. Floris, the poor thing, weeps at not being married still at her age. How do you think she feels seeing her step sister being the centre of attention? To have this many men flock to you and not her?”

“Floris,” she nearly yelled her name. “Floris is the reason why people whisper about me! Her insecurities are not my bloody problem, Clement! She could have been married off years ago, but she lets her pride and narcissism get in the way of it.

“She envies me, that is the truth of it. It’s always been like that – do you even notice the comments she makes of me? Floris is just as terrible as Aegon, Jacaerys and Lucerys was to me, even worse because we are family! It has been like that my entire fucking life with that woman… And you, father, mother, Arthor, and Shyla choose to ignore her belittling comments about my figure, because of what, Clement? Because you do not wish to cause strife among family? To choose sides? Or is it because you all believe her? You all agree I’m too fucking fat, but unlike Floris you keep your opinion behind your buttoned lips and avoidant eyes?”

Valeana did not give him room to respond, if he had any intention to, if he had any strength to. She pulled herself from her bed, embroidery loop forgotten, and slipped her feet into her shoes. Then, she bent down and secured the shoe’s strap around her wooden ankle, mindful to not run off on insecure shoes like last time.

“Where are you going?” 

“Since you refuse to leave, I will,” she marches over the door, and pulls it open with a violet jerk. 

“And which prince will you flock to?” He is standing up now, looking at her retreating back.

She paused in the threshold, her hand flexing on the handle of the door. “Neither,” she replied flatly, then slammed the door on him. 

When Valeana left her family’s wing, she had spotted Ellyn and Wylla walking in the gardens arm in arm from the loggia above. She fled to find some corner of the Keep for solitude, but when she saw them, she craved friendship more. They were whispering about something, giving each other looks that Valeana could not quite make out from where she stood. When she called out for them, they looked up, completely startled. Their bodies pulled away from each other as if they were caught committing a crime. 

Valeana tried not to think too much about it, especially since her thoughts were already at full capacity. Though as they sat in the grass, underneath a cherry blossom tree, away from courtiers and servants, Valeana couldn’t help but feel suddenly paranoid. The two were sharing looks with each other that she could not decipher, and she couldn’t help but wonder if they had been talking about her. 

Eyeing them warily, she decided to test the waters, “You two seem quiet.”

They looked at her slightly surprised, with Ellyn the first to speak, “Sorry… That nasty business in the Throne Room, it… it was just not expected.”

Wylla hummed in agreement, “I’ve seen a few executions, done by my father… Never seen anything so savage, however.” 

Valeana nodded, still unconvinced. Did they see her cling to Aemond after it happened? It was possible, though she was behind the Targaryen princes at the time, and she was fairly certain that people were more preoccupied by Ser Vaemond’s scalp rolling around the floor. 

Narrowing her eyes, she decided to press further, a little more boldly, “Are there any more whispers about me?” At their collective confusion, she added, “Only because you two seem quieter than usual, and I’m starting to wonder if you’ve learned something unsavoury that I should be concerned about.” 

Ellyn’s cheeks went pink, her eyes darting from Wylla, to the grass she was picking and peeling. They both shook their heads and cleared their throats. 

This time, Wylla answered, seeming genuine.  “No, nothing new. Only that bets have been challenged now that Jacaerys is in the running for your hand.”

Valeana rolled her eyes, “He isn’t. It was simply a brief moment in order to appease our parents.”

Ellyn raised an eyebrow mockingly, “So there we are back to two princes?”

Wylla tilted her head, “Or just one? I saw you and Aegon holding hands in the Throne Room.” 

“Is that all you saw?” They both looked genuinely confused. It was a bit of a relief, at least she knew they weren’t gossiping about her clinging to both Aegon and Aemond so publicly and judging her for it. As of right now, Aemond and hers reconciliation was not public knowledge; as far as the court is concerned, he was still courting Maris, and it was only the whispers that breathed life into the rumour of him yearning for Valeana. It was…  true, and well observed, but Valeana knew better to encourage the truth. Aemond needed to gently rid himself of Maris Baratheon, now more than ever. Having noticed how Shyla was slowly usurping Daeron Targaryen from Floris Baratheon, the tensions between Celtigars and Baratheons were becoming very tense, and it did not bode well for Valean’a own precarious circumstance.

Wylla’s eyes narrowed, “What else was there to see, Valeana?”

Val’s eyes flickered to Ellyn, who stared at her expectedly. She trusted this Baratheon with her past with Aemond, her feelings for him, but she did not know Ellyn’s relationship with her sisters very well. Did she approve of Maris’ match with him, or merely tolerated it? Would she choose Valeana or her sister? And the issue with young Floris and Shyla was a whole other added problem. The last thing Val wanted was to put Ellyn in a position of choosing between friendship and family. 

After kneading her lip with her teeth in thought, Valeana tentatively asked: “Ellyn… Is Maris… quite fond of Aemond?”

Ellyn seemed quite taken back by the question, but otherwise she appeared almost like she was harbouring knowledge she had yet to share. With a great sigh, the brunette nodded remorsefully, “She is. I’ve never seen her quite smitten but… She seems a bit agitated lately. Ever since the Hightower dinner, which…I know you’ve told me about. Maris has given me her own version of it, as did Daeron when he visited Floris one afternoon. My sister was quite affronted. Her intelligence is her biggest pride.”

“So suffice to say she isn’t my biggest fan.”

Ellyn huffed a soft laugh, “An understatement really. Um, she has also noticed… Aemond has become distant with her, and she has deduced it may be your doing. From what I overheard from her and Cassandra yesterday, your step-sister has been insinuating that you’ve been trying to seduce him.” 

Valeana sighed, rubbing the spot between her eyebrow and nose, “Of course she’s doing that. I somehow wonder if my beloved step sister has a plan, or she is simply lying freely, trying to see what people will believe and if it will ruin my character.” 

“I am surprised you aren’t trying to seduce him,” Wylla admitted thoughtfully, regarding Ellyn’s statement, “Given what you’ve told us. Didn’t you want him back? Or…has Prince Aegon snuffed that flame?” 

Valeana has done nothing but disprove the whispers about her and Aegon, particularly after the Hightower dinner when they publicized their (fake) courtship just to make Aemond jealous. It worked, though faster than she anticipated, and now she gathered how confused her two new friends probably were, given how much she had not shared with them since their last conversation about Val’s lovelife. The context between that drunken night to the present had not been divulged to them, and that was not just because she simply hadn’t the opportunity, but because she wasn’t accustomed to sharing vulnerable secrets. Valeana never actually had friends she could trust, she painfully realized; not since Aemond, and look how that turned out. 

She glanced around them, making sure they were very much alone. They had trailed far from the path, hidden in the grassy knolls, underneath the cherry blossom tree, surrounded by hydrangea bushes of various colours. The bushes and florals do a good job at muffling their voices as well as the noises of the world outside of their little sanctuary.

Licking her dry lips, Valeana geared herself to confess her sins, hoping that they would not judge her too harshly for her weaknesses. Hoping that Ellyn would at most be impartial to Valeana’s hand at effectively ruining Maris’ chance at a royal betrothal. 

“There is much I should– no, need to tell you. So much has happened…I do not know where to begin.”

Ellyn reached out and patted her arm, “Start from the beginning then?” 

With a harrowing sigh, Valeana nodded and began her complicated, long tale. She tripped over her words and backtracked when she remembered information that added more context, but she recounted everything. From the moment Aemond pulled her drunken self out of the Throne room, to her eve spent with Aemond in Queen Aemma’s old quarters. Yes, she even told them of Aemond’s apology on Maiden’s Day eve. Valeana even admitted to Aemond ravishing her tits that drunken night in the passageways, the morning before the Hightower supper. Even told them about the night at the secret terrace with Aegon. She also mentioned how she lost her maidenhead to a bloody horse, which was her attempt at humour and alleviating the tense conversation. 

In the end, her fingers were pressed in the corners of her eyes, head bowed over her crossed legs in exhaustion. Her head felt dull and heavy from a steady headache, one that began with Clement earlier. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she confessed defeatedly. “This is all so new to me… All my life, I was prepared to either be a spinster, a septa, or a despondent wife to a lord that did not care for me. I never even entertained the idea that a man might… desire me at all, let alone two.” It was addicting, she admitted to herself. Selfishly she thought perhaps she could have them both, like Catelyn Redwyne’s story, but she knew that was impossible…Aemond and Aegon would never share her. They would spend the entire time trying to lay claim on her, like two opposing conquerors. 

Wylla’s hand patted her knee comfortingly, “Your life never ceases to amaze me, Valeana. Most women would kill to be in your position.”

“I am not one of those women,” Ellyn commented good naturedly. “Though I admit that it is a privilege to be fought over by two princes of the Realm.”

Valeana pulled her hands from her eyes and blinked tiredly at both of them, “What would you two do if you were in my position?”

“Choose neither and become a Septa,” Ellyn shrugged dismissively, but at Valeana’s pointed look, she sighed. “Honestly, I do not know. I suppose I would try to figure out who I could not live without.” 

Wylla nodded her agreement, “You will be spending the rest of your life with this man… I personally don’t think it is disgraceful to explore who you are compatible with, both emotionally and physically. Most of us do not get the leisure of testing the waters before we are thrown in.” 

Val nodded, because she had no choice but to agree. It still did nothing to ease her stresses, though. “The problem is that my decision will be at the expense of the other’s pain. And I do not wish to cause anyone pain… Not even your sister, Ellyn. Even if – and forgive me for saying so – even if she is a pretentious bitch.” 

Ellyn huffed, shaking her head, “Oh, do not worry, I don’t take offense to that. Maris loves to call me stupid whenever she gets a chance, so she deserves the insult.” Suddenly the brunette looked down at her hands for a moment, brow furrowed as if she was in a battle with her own thoughts. “I love my sisters, truly… I wish to see them contented. Though… I do not believe that the princes would ever give them the happiness they hope to have with them. I think Maris and our Floris both are blinded by their titles, of the little fairy tale of becoming princesses rather than actually understanding the gravity of it all.

“I saw immediately that Daeron is far too self-centered to care for my little sister truly, and she is far too meek to stand up for herself. He never asks questions about her, and if she does not ask questions about him, then there is no conversation to be had. As for Maris, well…she likes the idea of Aemond. Of someone who actually enjoys her mind, and shares academic conversations, but,” Ellyn lifted her shoulders in a shrug, “As far as I’m aware, they have not shared anything deeper. Though, I dare say, with all my sister’s intelligence, she isn’t particularly educated in matters of the heart. If it wasn’t Aemond, any man that showed an interest to her intellect and mind would be enough to convince her that they are in love with her.” 

“That does not make me feel any better, Ellyn,” Valeana picked at the grass too, covering her skirts with it. 

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I’m trying poorly to convey something… What I mean is… Do not feel guilty about it. My sisters are not compatible with either Aemond or Daeron. Floris is young, beautiful, she will not suffer singledom long. However, I do worry about Maris, but not for reasons you think. Maris is not stable.” 

With a furrowed brow, Valeana peered at Ellyn carefully, “What do you mean?”

“She does not like being insulted, which you did, but she also sees Aemond's sudden distance from her as an insult too. Maris is calm most of the time but, when she feels like she has been aggrieved, or humiliated, she is… reactionary, for lack of a better word. And with your step sister’s ill counsel… I fear she plans on doing something explosive to get back at you. I just do not know what, or when, or if it’ll happen at all. I just know my sister… And since you are my friend, I only wish for you to be cautious. Perhaps do not make your affections for Aemond so obvious, until the sky is clear, until Maris cannot do anything.” 

Tentatively, Valeana gave a soft nod, “Thank you for telling me. Though now I have to deal with your sister on top of my own. Is there anyone else out there that is trying to sabotage me for reasons unknown, that I should be aware of?” She turned to Wylla, “Do you have a sister I do not know about that is plotting to kill me?”

Wylla softly laughed, “Gods, no. Well, I have a half sister. She is baseborn, but she is not here, anyway. Besides, we northerners have no interest in pretty white-haired princes with soft bellies or thin waists. We like our men towering, hairy, and smelling like a campfire.” 

Ellyn wrinkled her nose at that, but otherwise said nothing. 

Valeana hummed, lifting up her leg to rest her arm on her knee, “Your brother smells cedarwood and raw masculinity, which also smells a bit like roasted venison. It does things to me.”

“You still try to covet my brother even with two Targaryen princes at your beck and call?”

“Key word is try,” Valeana shook the grass from her skirt in exasperation. In total unseriousness, she continued, “Though he seems too preoccupied with Alysanne Blackwood, and I cannot compete with a woman who breaks horses and looks like she can kill a man with her thighs.” 

“And I am sure she has!” 

Their laughter pulled their outing to a lighter conversation about this or that, leaving the stress of courtships and family behind. Though despite the change, something dreadful settled in Valeana’s gut as Ellyn’s warning about Maris echoed in her mind like a bad omen. She couldn’t shake the feeling; it felt like she was an animal, sensing the impending doom of a large, disastrous storm. 

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO SNEAK PEAK Valeana flipped back over, only to see a shadow looming on the right side of the bed. Her heart leapt in her throat, momentarily gagging her as she jumped and gaped, a scream nearly escaping her lungs. His hand flew to her mouth.  “Shh, shh,” Aemond crouched down next to her bed, his grip over her mouth softening when he saw her shoulders cave. “It’s only me.” When he removed his hand from her mouth, she gave him a sharp whack on the shoulder, “Aemond, I swear to the old gods and the new, the next time you do that I’m going to throw you down a flight of stairs.” “Wouldn’t that be an interesting sight,” Said another, causing Valeana to jostle a second time. She and Aemond whirled their heads towards the door with wide and alarmed eyes. And there in the dim light she could make out the short wavy silver hair of Aegon. 

Notes: I hope that was worth the 2 week wait )x I still didn't do as much as I wanted in the last two weeks. Didn't realize how much I just needed to unplug during the holidays, what with work stress, among some other things and stuffs. Though the chapter I'm currently working on is nearly done. I just hope the one after doesn't take me just as long, otherwise I may need to do another two-week wait. Also I just wanted to point out...the amount of times I had to watch that Vaemond and dinner scene just to write this chapter, and the Fem!Aegon one shot was so absurd. It used to be my favourate episode, but now I can't even watch it again XD Anyway, once again, I hope everyone had good and safe holidays, <3

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel, @t0biasparabatai

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[pa-pa-plasma]

hey i feel like we're really sleeping on that time Danny possessed Vlad & framed him for assaulting a minor

Editing with the clip because people don't believe me. Episode is 41: Eye for an Eye.

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

I wanna know ur Fontaine msq criticisms 👁️👁️👂I’m all ears

I'm not sure if you wanted me to talk about this secretly or publicly but! Here I go!

The TLDR: Fontaine MSQ aestheticised prison, poverty, child abuse, the justice system/court and didn't properly address any of it.

More:

Focalors/Furina has way too much of a sympathetic angle for a dictator who's lets people drown with her inaction.

Neuvillette feels Bad for sentencing some people to death/prison, but that's it. He's one of the most powerful people in Fontaine. If he felt like there are systemic injustices, I.E sending an abused Child to prison, he should be the first person to DO something about it, not just cry and be sad so the audience can be like aw, that's complex character writing isn't it? No it's not! And guilt doesn't absolve you!!!!!!! (These are stuff we deal with in OTCOJ read my fic now /j)

Meropide has children in it, both Sentenced there (Wriothesley) and BORN THERE (Lanoire), and this is just a quirk of the place. Not only that, Meropide accepts prisoners of all genders and crimes. There are abusers and abuse victims in one place. Do you know how bad that is? How much potential for crimes to happen in a place like that— oh wait, Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. If you are assaulted as an inmate it literally means nothing to the court.

Wriothesley had no qualifications when he took over. Depending on how long he lived on the streets, how old he was when he killed his parents, how old he was when he was first taken in by the orphanage, etc, the man might never have more than 4–5 years of formal education. Sigewinne probably had to teach him how to write reports. And do Meropide's spreadsheets. Edit because I forgot to elaborate on this one: This isn't a point brought up anywhere, which is bad, because when poverty and incarceration robs you of a proper education (and the rights to vote in many places too, too, by the way), it reduces your prospects for jobs, reduces many people's ability to get a home etc etc. Wriothesley was just, narratively, Given his position.

Meropide is an industrialized prison, and they portray this as a good thing. Prisoners are paid in coupons for their labour, and this is also portrayed as a good thing.

The One-Meal-A-Day reform was something Paimon gushed about being so great of a perk, that people might want to go to jail for food (could be interesting and reflective of systemic poverty if MHY had brains, but they don't, so I was just Pissed because essentially all Paimon wanted to say was "Prison isn't so bad, but still don't go to prison guys! Prison labour is really hard!"). By the way, in most real-world prisons they are obligated to feed you three meals a day. Because that's how much food a human needs. MHY went with one meal just so they can say "if you want to eat more, you have to work." And then the welfare meal is a goddamn gacha. So imagine you're a starving child who's too weak to work in the fucking robot assembly line, and you wander up for your first meal in 24 hours, only to luck in with a shit one. I'd kill myself.

They wrote Wriothesley, who's a victim of the system, into a guy who's say shit like "I'm the Duke I can do whatever I want" for a cool moment where he choke-slams an inmate (I know he was a bad guy. But also, in copaganda when cops are violent/disregarding protocols, they are always only portrayed to do that against bad guys, so what does our critical thinking tells us about this one?) They wrote Wriothesley, who was an inmate of a prison so bad, so notorious that it is the literal boogeyman of Fontaine, that has a legal (???) fighting pit, with an administrator who abuses his position to be unreasonable, to willingly stay in the place and become an Administrator who would choke-slam an inmate while saying a cool line about how he has the power to do whatever he wants. They wrote him, the guy who had to be fed on the streets by melusines, to think one-meal-a-day was a good enough reform (while he spends god-knows how much on his boat). This wasn't a victim-turns-into-abuser narrative either, they want all this to be seen as positive character growth.

And then, the final kicker is, they gloss over his entire abuse. You can only read about these shit in his profile, which most people don't because they don't Have Him or doesn't care to unlock it/read it online, and they jammed his entire backstory into a flaccid info-dump at the end of his character story quest. This man isn't Allowed to feel abused and neglected and show any reaction to it within the narrative of Fontaine itself, because if they actually Gave Weight to what happened to him, they'd have to confront THE FUCKING JUSTICE SYSTEM they had NO PLANS on criticising. I don't think they ever explicitly said the fucking Crime-Theatre nonsense was Bad either.

I could go on, but this is already so long. But yeah, I hope this gave you an idea.

[utilitycaster]

something I keep repeatedly realizing, and then not writing about, is how wiki summaries and meta usually end up focusing on completely different things, and not even in the sense of "your wiki summary should be as neutral and factual as possible whereas meta is inherently making an argument" nor "wiki summaries tend to focus on the story itself whereas meta on actual play frequently, though not always, incorporates analysis of mechanics" but rather "meta is, 99% of the time, about a conversation that can be summarized in a single sentence if that."

[giantkillerjack]

ur post about queerbaiting and the dismissal of people in fandom to critical analysis is so incredibly true thank you. i feel like marcille's writing in the anime has been super misogynistic a lot of the time and every time i bring this up all anyone wants to say is "well maybe this isn't for you! and you shouldn't watch the show!" like. i don't think this is about taste lmao, i am analyzing the text in front of me and coming to conclusions about the craft of it.

[This is in reference to this post]

YES!!! THANK YOU!!!!!

It is so so frustrating!!!!

It's like being at a restaurant and being served a bunch of delicious appetizers, but then one of the bread appetizers is literally just a plate of crumbs; and then when you're like, "Hey, uhh, why are we being served literal crumbs?", a bunch of the other folks eating at the restaurant are like,

"WELL HOW ABOUT YOU JUST DON'T EAT HERE THEN??!? YOU MUST NOT BE THAT HUNGRY, SO JUST FIND ANOTHER RESTAURANT AND DON'T EAT WITH US!!"

And maybe they say it politely, but "Aw, sorry, maybe this restaurant just isn't for you 💖" is just trading out an aggressive dismissive tone for a patronizing dismissive tone. It's the same message.

And it's like! I was honestly happy to move on from the crumbs once my complaint was acknowledged because the meal overall is still delicious, but then all these folks got SUPER WEIRD AND DEFENSIVE ABOUT IT, so now I find myself double-checking all the other dishes -- and, actually, you know what those eggs DO look a Iittle misogynistic undercooked!!!!

[novelconcepts]

i don't make resolutions, but if i did

it would be to finish this fic

(and to be kind to myself for however long it takes to actually do so)

[justagaycryptid]

Just saw the fnaf movie and I am literally so glad that my favorite stupid fucking bastard was in the movie and we got a springlock failure scene like was the movie the greatest no but I got exactly what I wanted so goddamn it I'm gonna be happy about it

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

megumi 🤝🏽 yuuji

dying even if it’s only for a good minute only to be brought back to life bc fate realizes if they died for real then they would need to find someone else to fuck over. those two are like fates favorite barbie dolls.

apologies if this post is going to seem all over the place, just bear with me. i don’t even know if you’re going to see this BUT it’s okay bc i need to get this out my system 😭.

starting off — god, imagine the chaos that will ensue when megumi tells nobara & yuuji about his very tragic history with the zenins. but like he wouldn’t even tell them straight up, he’ll just make a little deadpan joke (my sarcastic, sassy son) & the others would look at him like : ??? wtf do you mean by that sea urchin head???

like imagine itafushikugi going shopping for like traditional japanese clothes for a little festival or some shit (megumi was dragged by his spikes to come along) & nobara is having the time of her life finding outfits for her & the boys. like it got to the point where she’s dressing them herself & she shows megumi an outfit that looked similar to the robe he was forced to wear bc of the zenin (it’s obviously not the same) & megumi just refuses to wear a robe with similar color patterns to the zenin robe.

megumi: that looks like the outfit the zenin forced me to wear. i wonder what happened to it, cause the last thing i know, i got blood all over it. so as the second member of the zenin hate club, im not wearing that….

megumi: wait that blue one looks decent. i’m going to try it on.

nobara:

yuuji:

nobara: …did he really leave without giving us the “ getting blood on a zenin’s robe” story?

imagine maki complaining about naoya in front of the first years, & maki just brings up naoya’s onesided beef with megumi & her stories of how naoya was so petty back in his childhood made him remember who tf naoya is (megs have selective memory, it’s okay)

megumi: ugh, he was so annoying. i remember when he came to my middle school back when gojo was busy dealing with the aftermath of his evil ex boyfriend evil plan & he basically kidnapped me. i was stuck in a car with that man for 40 minutes..you would hate him nobara.

maki: yeah you would hate him nobara.

yuuji: i’m sorry he kidnapped you??? why did you say that so casually?

nobara: fuck that. megumi is a disney princess, we know this already. BUT we’re just gonna gloss over gojo had an evil boyfriend?

& imagine when megumi finally tells his friends about the zenin clan was when yuuji just came back from the dead & they were asking how tf that’s possible. & somewhere in that conversation megumi just let it slip that his heart stopped beating once & itakugi looks at him in silence:

megumi: yeah the zenin clan basically forced me to exorcise some curses & complete a ritual to get a snake — that snake fucking bit me. it was my least favorite. but yeah i basically died. then yuuta brought me back. then i was blind for a good minute.

nobara, yuuji, & even sukuna:

megumi: it was a terrible time for me. gojo was even more clingier & protective. it got to a point where he started treating me like i was 6 again… reading me bedtime stories, singing me lullabies & describing the pictures in the stories since i was…yknow blind.

cue itakugi & even sukuna wanting to burn down the zenin but ofc they can’t do that…so they settle for pulling pranks on the members & traumatizing them ofc.

IM ALSO imagining how funny it would be for yuuji to be jealous of yuuta. like bro is basically living yuuji’s fantasy world. i’m giggling at the idea of yuuji fighting for his life to be either megumi favorite or nanami’s favorite.

you also opened my eye to the potential of maki & tsumiki… like i also like to imagine that in a happier world, they would understand each other on such a deep level. but they would also find parts of the other that they wished they had. but on a happier note i like to imagine that megumi would suffer whenever it was brought up that his aunt is basically dating his step sister. like maki would be a menace to megumi. every little thing he do? maki is texting tsumiki in a corner.

maki watching itafushi cook together in the kitchen: i can’t believe megumi has a boyfriend. it’s so cute that he thinks that he can hide this from me. lemme go snitch to tsumiki.

maki listening to megumi describe his fight with sukuna, a cursed spirit who apparently has a stripping problem: oh my god. megumi is truly yuuta’s boy. they both got cursed spirits obsessed with them…i need to tell tsumiki.

maki to megumi after witnessing his suicidal tendencies: don’t make me tell tsumiki.

i honestly love your story. the way you added so much more to megumi childhood is beautiful. it just make soooo much sense. but also your characterization of gojo is so precious to me. i’m waiting for gojo to go apeshit on the zenin. i’m also giggling in anticipation at gojo finding out about yuuta attachment to megumi. i like to imagine him to be kind of worried about it actually, bc that’s not fucking healthy. but i imagine him getting used to it since megumi will have a protector in the form of yuuta & his power of love.

i’m also curious to see mai’s role in this story since.

*sighs in disappointment at gege writing choices*

since she had a crush on megumi…yeah. but imma just interpret that as she wants to be his family. it keeps me sane

i also wanted to ask if there’s a chance that you would write a megumi POV of what happened in the zenin clan? ofc i would understand if you wouldn’t since it leaves a much more ominous feeling to the events. plus yuuta running commentary is a good mix of angst & humor so ofc i understand.

Yuuji: man fushiguro almost checks the boxes for a Disney princess. except he was never kidnapped or enslaved

Megumi, sold to the Zenin clan, who later kidnapped him: *sweating*

Nobara and Yuuji would be the co-vice presidents of the "fuck the Zenin clan" club if they knew what happened. They would be the presidents but yuuta and maki are already in a death match for the position and they're trying to avoid the bloodshed. they are not allowed to be treasurer because neither of them know how money works.

megumi is unaware that a formal club has been formed.

Megumi is suffering SO HARD in any world where maki and tsumiki are together. they won't stop ganging up on him when it comes to his love life and general wellbeing and holding hands where he has to see it. maki lectures him about his suicidal tendencies in the field, holds up one finger, calls tsumiki, and lets her pick up where she left off. maki tries to talk to him about relationships one (1) time and he tries to drown himself.

see i'm pretty open to writing a megumi POV but it, like most of my stories, falls in this nebulous category of "if i have the time." like, i've thought about writing megumi's pov before, there's a lot of stuff that happened that exists as like, background knowledge for me that will never make it through yuuta's pov because it doesn't make sense for yuuta to find out about it. It would be very tonally different, but if i did write it, it would be a different work entirely and i'd be making sea glass gardens into a series.

i'm eternally tempted by the siren call of making my works into a series. If i did it with sea glass gardens, i would want to add a one shot of Megumi's pov during the time leading up to sea glass gardens and a short multi-chapter of the gojo, nanami, shoko teen parenting trio. If I have the time, it will exist; if i don't, it won't.

[liedownquisition]

ugh. tfw u figure out what you SHOULD HAVE done to write your fic's main/first sex scene but only realize it AFTER you've already posted it with mediocre smut.

[sabertoothwalrus]

tips for getting people to like your ocs

*disclaimer: this is based on what’s worked for me, aka an artist that likes to make comics/storyboards. so this advice is directed at people who do that

you can do things like this:

Which is fun! Character sheets like this are great, especially for personal reference! But frankly, I don’t think most people engage with this (at least I personally don’t). You could have the coolest character in the world, but it will be harder for most people to feel invested when they’re presented so neutrally like this.

My main piece of advice is: get better at writing.

That might sound harsh when said like that, but let me explain what I mean! (Not trying to imply you’re bad at writing either!)

What I tend to do is just throw characters into situations with as little handholding as I can. Give enough context that readers can follow along, but don’t feel like they’re being explained to.

what can you learn about the characters through their designs alone? (age, personality, economic status, occupation, etc)

what can you learn about the characters’ relationship though their interactions alone? (are they close? familial? romantic? is there hostility? are they tense/relaxed?)

what are the characters currently doing? what were they doing previously (how long have they been talking)? what are they going to do next? can you convey this without dialogue?

how do they feel about what they are doing? are they content? focused? over/understimulated? would they rather be doing something else?

where are they? does it matter? would establishing a setting in at least one panel clarify the scene? is there anything in the enviroment that could tell some of the story?

what time of day is it? what time of year is it? what is the weather like?

Now, with all this in mind, I'm going to give you another example. I'm going to use completely brand new characters for the sake of the experiment, so you won't have any bias (aka I can’t use Protagonist from above, since you already know all about him).

Did this get more of an emotional response from you than the first example? Why do you think so? Who are these characters? How do they know each other? What else can you infer about them? What happened? Who is "she"?

Now, you don't have to actually answer all those questions. But think about them! You can tell people a whole lot about your characters without ever showing them a list of their likes and dislikes.

Obviously, comics aren't the only way to get people invested in your original characters! But regardless, easily digestible formats will grab people's attention faster than huge blocks of text, and comics are a lot less work than doing wholeass storyboards.

Now go and share your ocs with the world!!!