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choicesficwriterscreations · 1 year

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October 2023 WOTM: peonierose

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @peonierose. We hope you will enjoy learning more about them and their work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog: peonierose Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? Peonie or PR is fine 🥰

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

Way back when Choices first launched. My first book was The Freshman Series - book 1. It was so fun to play the books and get super excited for new chapters. I was waiting until midnight for new chapters. It was the first time I’ve played an app where I could make decisions and use diamonds for VIP scenes 😍

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined the Choices fandom back in 2021. I really missed Open Heart after book 3 ended (and left me wanting more) So I wanted to see if there were any more stories I could binge, and that’s how I stumbled upon Tumblr 🥰

3- How did you pick your blog name?

It may sound weird but it just came to me. Peonies are my favorite flowers. As soon as I thought peonie I quickly added rose and I was like that sounds so cool and it’s unique which I love 😍 And that’s how peonierose was born.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

Gosh. This feels like forever ago. When I first came on tumblr I didn’t post or reblog much 😅 (too shy to interact with anyone 🙈)

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

It has been 2 years in August this year since I’ve actively started writing fanfic 🥰 (I still can’t believe I actually made the leap and decided to post any of my stories).

6- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to write about?

You’re really going to make me choose? There are so many good ones 😱

I love to write for two of my favorite books which are Nightbound and Open Heart. Those are the ones I feel most connected to 🥰 Though I’d love to venture out and make edits or social media posts for other choices books too.

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were writing it today?

I wrote Robin‘s Tell-All from TNA, and it was the first fic I’ve ever shared. I really wanted to write a story from Robin‘s POV and how all that happened in TNA affected him and all the mistakes he made.

I wanted to showcase his inner struggle.

I remember how nervous I was to post something that I’d written. I thought to myself, will people even like my story? And if they do like it, then what? It was a great rush to see the reblogs, and the love for my first-ever posted fic.

If I could change one thing, it would probably be the moodboard 😅

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

That is a tough question, because to me every fic I‘ve written has a special place in my heart. So every story reflects the feelings I’ve felt while writing my story.

Buuuuut if I had to choose: It would be a tie between By a Landslide (Bryce and Luna), the 3rd chapter of my Nightbound series - Unexpected and Go with the Flow (Luna & Bryce)

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but found could use a little more love?

I actually didn’t think I’m a sucker for you, A Pinch of Pink and Blue…This one‘s for you, Cinnamon Sugar and Wildflower, to be as well received as they did.

However, I think Bittersweet Symphony and Losing Game (1 / 4) could use some more love.

Both stories are amazing and I think you’ll love both my pairings. Luna & Bryce and of course Maxine and Adam.

10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

I am by no means a smut writer 😅 Maybe I’ll get there 😅 But I’d go with a mix between angst and fluff. I think a nice balance between these two would be good.

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Yeah. Tons of times. Take Luna for example. She has anxiety like me, and her appearance, such as her blue-green eyes and dark blonde hair, are like mine. But character wise we’re complete opposites. I wish I’d be more artistic like her 🩷

And Bryce is an Aries like me, and so many things he says or does make me go back, and I’m like, yeah, I would say something like that. Other than that, I’ve learned to give my characters real flaws and make them human, if that makes sense. But it does happen that they end up with character traits that are mine, and then I lean back and realize I’ve given my characters some of my weird and quirky character traits 🤣

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

Damn. Umm…I struggle with a lot of things. Finding the right words sometimes because English isn’t my first, not even my second language. I speak six languages, so it's sometimes hard to find the words to describe things.

Showing, not telling that’s another thing I struggle with.

That and if I have to keep a deadline to post something 🤣 Because it takes me forever to post anything I’m not 100% behind and happy with.

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

How much time you’ve got? I have over 30 wips, that want some desperate attention, and I always keep adding new wips, whenever something inspires me to write 😅

I’ve found some new inspo for Somewhere Only We Know 🥰 Apart from that I’d love to take another look at my two AU‘s Amber & my Nightbound series. So we’ll see what wips I can manage to finish 😅

14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

Sure. I’d love to get an outside opinion of my work and my characters that are so beloved and close to my heart 🩷

I actually tell people that I write fanfic and original work. And I’ve sent some samples their way and they liked it. Which makes me feel more confident in my writing (not saying it’s perfect, there’s always room for improvement, but it’s getting better).

As for which story to start? I’d say start with Only Love for Bryce and Luna. That was my first story of them and I consider it their start.

Then continue with Always & Forever and Go with the Flow.

Those were my first posted stories about Luna & Bryce and I think you’ll like them. It would give you a good understanding of my storytelling and my characters.

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing?

There are a couple of authors I admire - Chloe Neil, Elise Kova, Nalini Singh, Rachel Caine (R.I.), Rebecca Yarros, and many more. They have influenced and shaped my writing, my fantasy world-building, and, of course building my characters. These authors know how to tell great stories, which makes me admire them so much.

As for fanfic writers who’ve inspired me? I’d love to give a special shoutout to one of my closest friends who’s been my beta reader for almost anything @annieruok She’s an amazing person and writer. Thanks so much for all the times listening to my ramblings about scenes and characters 🩷

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

My Nightbound series hands down. That is a story that really deserves to be on the big screen or as a Netflix show. I’m not picky.

I’d love to see Grey, Gretel and Hänsel kick some ass. It’s a unique enough story to garner some attention 🥰 I’ve worked really hard to write it and it took me a year to come up with chapters, character names and so forth.

Also Somewhere Only We Know would be cool to see on the big screen. I’d probably weep from joy if any of my stories were ever developed as a movie or series 🥰🥹

17- Do you write original fiction?

Yes, I actually do. I have several original works in my Google docs. And just recently, I had an idea for another original story (I don’t feel comfortable sharing it yet) 🥰 But let’s just say it’s fun to come up with the characters and world-building and everything in between.

18 - What other hobbies do you have?

Reading books, trying out new recipes in the kitchen. This also reminds me I need to exercise more 🤣

Taking walks & going shopping.

Hanging out with friends and binge watching shows and movies on Disney+ and Netflix. Just trying to enjoy every single moment that every day has to offer 🩷

19 - What’s your favorite emoji?

It’s a toss between these three 🥰😍🩷 (What can I say I love pink 🩷 not just because of the new Barbie movie and the pinkmania 🩷)

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

First, I wanted to say thank you to everyone. For being picked as writer of the month is a huge honor 🥰 Thank you to everyone who has ever taken the time to read my stories, reblog them, and leave some unbelievably nice words.

I’m very grateful that you guys took the time to shower me with love. Sometimes, I wonder what I did to deserve some of your nice words and love. I also wanted to give a special shoutout to some of the people who are very dear to me. 🩷

Thank you guys for supporting me. Being there for me - through great and not so great times - I‘ll never be able repay your kindness 🩷 You guys make me strive to be a better version of myself and I couldn’t be more happy to call you my friends 🩷

@annieru0k @cariantha @txem @doriopenheart @mysticalgalaxy @aallotarenunelma @inlocusmads @heavenssexiestangel @socalwriterbee @secretaryunpaid @ofmischiefandmedicine @starrystarrytrouble @the-pale-goddess @takemyopenheart @quixoticdreamer16 @princess-geek @eleanorbloom

#choices fic writers creations #cfwc writer of the month #playchoices #choices the stories you play #writer of the month #peonierose #october 2023 #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic

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tetrakys · 15 days

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Hi, beautiful ❤️ How are you? How is life going? I hope everything is great!

I'm reaching to you because I want your opinion/advice on something New Gen related and I trust your judgement and knowledge of the game a lot. Life has been really busy as of lately so I got behind in the game and now I'm catching up. I've spent money on gems and I want to use them smartly to get me through episodes 5, 6 and 7, so what I wanted to ask was if those episodes special scenes are worth it/relevant when it comes to Jason (I'm focusing on his route), plot or his relationship with Candysaline or if I should skip them to save gems or spend them on AP.

The special scene in episode 2 was good, the one in episode 3 was ok (more bussiness related) and the one in episode 4 was basically a description of Jason's IG (interesting info but I don't know if it was worth the amount of gems) 😅 So I don't know what to do and I'm hoping you could enlighten me if it's no bother.

Sending love and a big hug ❤️

Hi hun, lovely to see you again! 💕 I saw some of your posts I knew you were playing New Gen I'm so happy you're back! 🥰

About your question, absolutely play the secret scenes starting from chapter 5, that's where we start seeing Jason more and get some alone time with him. His scenes in ep 3 and 4 were very skippable, but 5, 6 and 7 are chef's kiss 😘 looking forward to read your comments!

#my candy love #mcl new gen

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vvatchword · 3 months

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Reading BioShock: Rapture (Part 6: Frank Fontaine: Funny He-He Clown Man)

<- Part 5: Three Old Men Jerking Their Milk Sticks || Back to the Beginning || Part 7: Shadow Eve ->

By Chapter 2, Shirley finally introduces a few antagonists—Fontaine, as well as G-men doing the world’s worst surveillance.

If you’re hoping for tension,

stop.

hope is a lie and this book is its grave

I Would Like to Feel Anything Please

This chapter opens on Sullivan trying to shake a G-man and failing. Apparently it doesn’t matter because he goes ahead and meets with a character called Ruben Greavy, head engineer for the Wales brothers. I’m assuming that Greavy was originally the city designer before Wales & Wales had to be worked in.

I was most interested in the G-man because I keep looking for antagonists. Ryan has a goal, right? In literally any story anywhere, there would be obstacles the protag has to overcome. One might reasonably conclude that government institutions are Andrew Ryan’s greatest foes. They have the power to stop him through legislation and force: it doesn’t matter how much money you have if your enemy can mobilize the fucking Army.

Who else has the power to stop Ryan? Probably other industry tycoons. In Ayn Rand’s fiction, company presidents commonly ally with each other and the government to stymie the goals of her Ubermensch.

Although present, Fontaine is a small-time crook and motivated in other directions and is thus a non-issue.

As it turns out, I shouldn’t have been excited to see the G-men. After info-dumping a thousand things we either already know or could read in more interesting ways, Sullivan says this:

“Maybe they’ll get a warrant after all. I don’t think they’d find anything illegal.”

So you’re saying there’s no threat.

We are in Chapter 2, on page thirty-fucking-nine, and THERE ARE STILL NO STAKES.

But Preferably Not Indignation

At this point, it’s not about not knowing who Ryan’s enemies are. Functionally, I don’t think they exist. While Shirley invokes entire government institutions, like the FBI or IRS, they literally have nothing to do and no reason to be there.

Moreover, the Olympian—Ryan’s yacht—is namedropped. Which is when I realized that it was being used as a cargo ship.

Wait a fucking minute.

Look, I don’t know shit about boats, but can you really use a yacht like that? Like to ship big ol city parts? Why would you do that? I mean there’s a certain poetic quality in, say, stripping the guts out of your pleasure yacht to bend it to base labor, but we all know Shirley didn’t think that far.

(grumbles to self. angrily notates “research midcentury yacht models and cargo ships”)

Salty — Today at 10:22 AM No, yachts can’t be used like that watchword — Today at 10:23 AM "I found this out in 1 minute Shirley" thank you I figured the design mattered Salty — Today at 10:23 AM It does You’d need some kind of crane to lower things into the water and there’s no way a yacht could take that shit without being built not like a yacht

So it turns out that Andrew Ryan has sent his chief of security personally down to the docks to confirm the time it leaves like he’s some kind of little messenger drone. Somewhere in the proceeding info-dump, Sullivan tells Greavy to leave with all of the building supplies in his ship as soon as possible in case the G-men want to raid them, even though there’s nothing illegal going on. Their reasoning is that they don’t want the US government to learn even a scrap of information about what they’re doing.

Or what? What would they fucking do? There are no laws about shipping out giant city parts. I suppose it could be framed as Ryan being paranoid, but Shirley always explains what characters are doing to the nth degree, and there’s no such explanation here.

Also, and I don’t know why this isn’t being used: the world was fucking flattened after World War II. Shipping building supplies makes a lot of fucking sense. Just tell the gubmint that you’re selling them to France or something. “Aw, yeah, Uncle Sam. You know how much the French like glass tubes. Gonna put all the filthy tourists in there like hamsters so they don’t touch anything. When you get troublemakers you just close the bulkheads and fill them with water.”

Besides, all you have to do is tell the gubmint what you’re shipping off with. It’s for records to be checked against the port that receives the shipment to make sure there’s no funny business. What I don’t remember is if you have to declare what port you’re going to—I suspect that would be the case—but I mean. LIE? This is your life’s work. LIE.

Finally, New York is one of the busiest and biggest ports in the nation. Why would anyone be looking that closely at one more cargo ship? Paperwork back then was even more annoying and difficult to grok than it is today. Imagine the volume for a port like New York’s.

Just fucking LIE.

The real point of this scene is so there can be an exposition dump. Shirley couldn’t just send a messenger who didn’t know what was going on—he needed two people who were In the Know. The important part isn’t entertainment, it’s information: unnecessary and uninteresting exposition about Rapture’s political and economic goals, why they’re shipping supplies the way they are, and the US government, all despite the characters involved being intimately knowledgeable of the situation. Also, they’re about 75% through with the entire escapade, so if this conversation ever occurred at all, you’d think it would be months in the past. The G-man is an attempt at escalation, but then Shirley immediately de-escalates by saying he’s powerless.

So, just to reiterate:

Sullivan tries to shake a tail, fails, and doesn’t care because it doesn’t matter. He shows up at a ship containing building materials for Rapture, meets Greavy, and they lecture each other back and forth about subjects they should already know to summarize a bunch of events we should have seen. As an afterthought, Sullivan tells Greavy he showed up in person to confirm the time the ship leaves instead of calling because the phones are probably tapped. Sullivan will leave before the ship leaves so he won’t actually know the time to confirm with his boss. This particular ship is one of multiple ships and represents only one of multiple shipments—there’s nothing remarkably special about it. They’re not in any danger in any way and there’s nothing the USA can do legally to stop them. End scene.

How the hell is anything this bad.

How.

There should really be like twenty chapters for every one of BioShock: Rapture’s, each explaining how we got here. Because instead of sharing the exciting cat-and-mouse shit, Shirley writes about the outcomes where everything is settled.

This is how our reflections write in the mirror universe.

I have read fanfiction by fans of every age and fluency level and ability. Most of it was trash, but it could be excused because they were young or new or amateur writers, and even then, they’re often excited about a concept and trying really hard and might have some neat thoughts to share.

This… this is on a whole different level.

Writing Is Hard (and Caring Is Harder)

The reason for this is, of course, that Shirley would have had to research several different subjects to write about them in any depth, and time was of the essence. In fact, I am now 100% convinced that everything here is done in a mad effort to save effort, which sounds as delightful as it is.

The elements he thinks to research are absurd. I am now sure that he doesn’t know how to rank research subjects by importance. He does not research, say, the histories of the IRS or the FBI or corporate espionage. No, he researches “how to install a toilet” and “historical boxing.” He’s most often focused on physical processes or what things look like—not on what people do or why they do them.

I have a new bet for you: that each chapter will be like a little push-pin in a plot point. None of them will be married meaningfully to any of the other plot points. They will be little islands in time and rely on the reader to insert connective tissue. This will essentially be a disjointed short story collection, except without any tension whatsoever, because they’re just summaries of larger stories that we never see.

Shrug

Let’s contrast this burning sludge puddle with a different burning sludge puddle: Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged. This is a fitting contrast as Rapture is a callback to Galt’s Gulch.

The protagonist, Dagny Taggart, discovers Galt’s Gulch (libertarian paradise and Aryan summer camp) in Part 3, roughly 60% through the book. In my paperback, Part 3 begins on page 643, and the story ends on page 1,069 (nice). The font is like 6 points. I can’t stress enough how dense this book is.

Rand spends ungodly amounts of time and detail lingering on her enemies—politicians and company presidents and whiny family members. She waxes eloquent on the destructive side of selflessness. Over the course of an eternity, she displays in slow, evolving detail how that world fucks her characters over, despite all their best efforts. And oh—they struggle. They fight!

When Dagny ends up in Galt’s Gulch, staring straight into the face of Objectivist Jesus, she has been through hell, and it feels like a relief: like she’s finally free.

Galt’s Gulch was not a given—it was a process.

Rapture deserves the same build-up. The build-up is the story, you understand?

BioShock: Rapture is like a romance novel that skips all its character building and sex sequences to leap straight into post-coital snuggling. It’s not half as interesting or meaningful if you don’t include all of the pining and rage and frustration and explicit dicking.

Funny He-He Clown Man

Oh, Frank Fontaine. They done did u dirty.

Hey, hypothetical reader, I’m gonna ask you something: what do you think when you hear "Frank Fontaine"? Do you think of a funny little clown man who changes into costumes every ten seconds like a malicious Bugs Bunny? Because that’s what we have here. And, like everything else in this shapeless abortion, I hate it.

Generally, when I write a character who’s not my own, I say: “What is most interesting about this guy?” And I go for some neat character trait or behaviorism and then expand. Everything about that person fractals off of their base personality, psychology, behaviorisms, internal worlds, and past experiences.

Of course, that character doesn’t exist in a vacuum, so you know what else I do? I look at how they’re utilized in the source material, I ask what exactly the source material is, and I examine what the story was originally trying to do.

Characters Are Limited

Since the Beginning of Time, it has been popular in fandoms to act performatively enraged about how each and every character in a piece of media is not fully-fleshed out and explored to the last quark of the final atom.

First, that’s not how narratives work. Stories have to be limited by their natures: we are limited to this time, this space, this person, these concerns, these events. Material can only stretch so far, and characters can only intersect so long. It’s impossible to touch on every single concern and detail of your world, and if you attempt it, you’ll carefully hand-craft an unreadable clusterfuck.

Second, a character is not a person. A character is a slave to the narrative. They are an ingredient and a tool. Even if they’re the complete focal point of the story, you cannot possibly fully explore them. They do not have full human lives or sapience. They only have what they are given. As inhuman objects and creative constructs, they are also not worthy of the same respect as a real human being. can you believe I have to say that

Third, it’s not important to have a fully-rounded character because that’s not always what the story requires. There are all kinds of different stories outside of character-driven ones—for example, focal points might be on themes, ideas, settings, or vast periods of time, and not on people at all; sometimes the narrative as a whole is more important than the characters inside of them; sometimes the style and POV limits how much we can know; sometimes it’s simply more entertaining or informative to omit certain information; and so on.

There are many ways to be interesting, and there are many ways to string along a series of plot points, and characters are just more tools in the toolbox. Instead of raking a narrative across the coals for not meeting your standards, it’s far more sensible to ask what the narrative is and what it’s trying to do, then judge it according to the standards it was trying to meet.

The Fountainhead

Sometimes a character works best if we don’t know that much about them. In my opinion, Frank Fontaine is one of these. He has a limited efficacy and only in specific situations.

How is Fontaine used in BioShock? Sparingly, that’s how. And when he finally shows up as ringleader, it’s to head what is arguably the weakest part of the game. Suddenly you have to look straight at him for a couple of hours, and he’s just not that interesting under a spotlight. He’s a small-time crook who won the lottery; what made him interesting was the Atlas con and his friction with Andrew Ryan, and both are over. He’s not that big of a deal in and of himself. He doesn’t really have any power other than ADAM—and of course, that’s the point.

Fontaine is not a character with an arc. He can’t change and he wouldn’t work very well if he did. In fact, he’s not really a character at all—he’s an anthropomorphized human quality. One of the alternate meanings of “frank” is “honesty” or “truth”; “Fontaine,” or “fountain,” probably refers to Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead.

“What is the fountainhead—the source—of the Ubermensch?” Rand asks.

Levine replied: “What is the fountainhead of Objectivism?”

If Objectivism got everything it wanted, what would its world really look like? Because it wouldn’t be Galt’s Gulch or Rapture in its heyday.

Frank Fontaine is the ultimate culmination of Objectivist theory—not Andrew Ryan. The guy who wins doesn’t have to have any laudable moral qualities at all—all he has to be is the strongest or most cunning. The best idea or product doesn’t necessarily succeed because Objectivism isn’t about quality—you can just get steamrolled into bullshit because some company has more resources and social currency than the innovative little guy. If all you value is strength, all you will receive is the strong, and that strongman does not have any incentive to be anything other than a flesh-tearing, blood-drinking brute.

One of BioShock’s best qualities is how it just lets Fontaine sort of exist quietly in the background, like the faint, tense hum of an electric wire. You see evidence of him. You see what people think of him. But you never actually see him. The mystery is part of his power. Pre-twist, you only hear his voice once, and it’s probably utilized as a red herring in case you started to doubt Atlas’ identity. After all, Atlas is Irish, and Fontaine is from New York or something! You can trust Atlas!

But Can You Trust Shirley?

what the fuck do you think

I thought of just ending here and letting you figure it out but I believe this deserves just a little explication.

In Chapter 2, Fontaine—going by the surname Gorland—waltzes in, front and center, and with all the flare of a supervillain descending from on high, steals some loser’s shitty-ass bar.

“Whatta hell ya mean you’re the owner, Gorland?” … “…You’re about to sign this bar over to me, is whatta hell.” … Merton stared at the papers, eyes widening. “That was you? Hudson Loans? Nobody told me that was—” “A loan is a loan. What I seem to recall is, you were drunk when you signed it. Needed some money to pay off your gambling vig. A big fucking vig it was too, Merton!”

Fontaine got a guy drunk and made him sign something. Is this supposed to impress me?

I cut a ton of needless bullshit out and I still didn’t cut as much as I should have. (A “vig” is a gambling debt, so “gambling” is redundant, among other things.) What shitty dialogue this is. I told you, McDonagh isn’t the only one you should be cringing at. Shirley is terrified you won’t understand him so he makes sure to explain every point three times over.

When Levine writes “CIA spook” or “das vedanya,” it’s not to prove his work. It’s there because it makes sense there. When Shirley uses a specific term, it’s to show off. It’s like a little kid running up to show you that he finished a question on his homework. Except he does it every time he finishes something. And he’s always wrong somehow.

“Vig” in particular got me.

“Vig, you know! Yeah I looked it up! Vig! A gambling debt! Bet you’ve never heard that before! I researched! See! Vig!”

I will find your thesaurus, tear each page out one by one, and eat them in front of you without breaking eye contact. You will see me when you get up at midnight for a drink of water, slowly crunching in the dark. When you call the police I will evaporate. All that will be left is the hardcover, tented over a single dead roach pinned to the floor. At night you will hear me whispering from the walls: “haaaaaaaack”

Cynicism, Nihilism, Gnosticism, Humanism

Frank Fontaine is the most cynically written of all the characters thus far. He’s the one with the most obvious To-Do List.

“What do I need to establish about Frank Fontaine?” Shirley asked himself. “Let’s see: he is a conman. He is a great actor. He needs to find out about Rapture and get there somehow. He’s a super-awful guy. I should establish his background, motivations, and how he learned his skills. I know! He lived in a vaudeville theater!”

All right, all right. Let me be fair. I would bet money that Levine is the source of that background bit—BioShock features a million stages for a reason that I will someday write about at length—but god I hate it. I was in one-act play and I have watched hundreds of films but it doesn’t mean I know how to act. Isn’t it enough that Fontaine learns to manipulate others, perhaps out of a sense of childish self-preservation before evolving into predation? Does it have to be a big show?

…yes, I guess. Fuck. Because gnosticism.

Gnosticism is one of those BioShock themes that I least expected in this novel because it is a pure thought exercise and exists on several metaphorical levels. I’m sure Shirley has been informed of its existence, but we all know how he’ll handle it (he can’t lol). All you need to know about gnosticism is that it’s a philosophy that believes the physical environment is a broken copy of a higher reality. Even though the physical realm is fucked, it can still point toward a higher truth. In other words, you can learn from the physical world’s half-truths to achieve gnosis—knowledge of that ultimate spiritual truth—and thereby ascend to that higher spiritual plane.

But Ken Levine has a different take on ascension.

According to Levine, you learn by going through the horrors of life, but the truth is not some beatific vision. There is no god and there is no better world: there is Only Man. All you learn is that human beings hurt each other, and that they won’t ever stop, and to survive, you must go to war yourself—whether you like it or not. In the process, you struggle toward an understanding of how to make a better world, but there’s a catch: you have committed all kinds of harm out of ignorance. By committing that harm, you have ensured that the damage goes on… and on… and on.

No human being can avoid this.

Nobody can just TELL you how to make a better world—it’s far too big and complicated a place, and it’s always changing. You have to experience it for yourself to understand how it works. That means you can’t take your knowledge to others, either—because not only can future generations not understand you, your own knowledge is highly individual, and the world is continually changing so that you’re always one step behind. Future generations have to make their own mistakes in their own unique settings to figure out how best to live. In the process, they fuck up the future in a whole new way.

Everyone thinks they’re going through hell looking for heaven, but it turns out it’s always been about this fucked-up world and this fucked-up present with its fucked-up people. All you can do is your best with what you know.

The way Levine illustrates this is that art and artifice performatively point toward that ultimate higher truth: there is no escape, and we are destined to hurt ourselves and future generations in an unbreakable cycle. BioShock is existential horror at its heart, and it’s the best kind—the humanist kind.

So, thematically speaking, Fontaine being a literal performer, acting for our education and elevation, is correct. If you pay attention to the game, every character functions this way. Everything is a performance for your benefit as player. I have to admit that it makes sense. Plus, other than working retail, entertainment is a great way to learn how to hate the human race.

I still hate it. I want Fontaine to be more grounded, I guess. Every time I imagine him in a theater I cackle a little.

Cardboard People

Returning to BioShock: Rapture, the first problem with Fontaine’s section is that he doesn’t feel like a person. I don’t get a sense of his past, even when it’s explicitly mentioned. I bring up Fontaine’s past because people do what they do based on a complicated play of psychological need and lessons learned to survive past environments.

Alas: Fontaine is a one-note mustache-twirler. He wants to get money why? To get more money. Not to survive, not to defy the privations of his past, not to take vengeance on an uncaring world, not to bang girls, not to buy cool shit. He just fucks people up because that’s what he does.

Also, despite being a petty criminal, he seems above and beyond the law somehow. I’m not afraid for him when that G-man from earlier walks into his bar.

…oh, for fuck’s sake, that’s still my optimism talking. I keep expecting this book to work like a book. This thing is the hairy knot you find at the bottom of a drain.

Anyway, the second problem with Fontaine is that the entire story works to his benefit, and it’s immediately ludicrous. Instead of giving Fontaine problems to solve—and giving Andrew Ryan ways to work against him—you know, like real human beings with brains—Shirley just throws information and idiots at Fontaine constantly.

Allow me to illustrate.

Frank Fontaine gets his bar by drugging a guy who is dumb with or without intoxication. Fontaine wanted this bar so he could listen into bar patrons’ conversations for hot tips on gambling and grifts. When does this pay off?

guess

If you said, “Immediately!”, Fuck You! You are correct!

[Fontaine] wiped at an imaginary spill on the bar, edging closer. “But can we count on Steele?” said the one some called Twitchy. He twitched his pencil-thin mustache. “Thinks he’s going to challenge the Bomber next year…” “So let him challenge; he can lose one fight. He needs the payoff, needs it big,” said the chunkier one of the two, “Snort” Bianchi—with a snort.

is this a joke

This is one place I am not sure of Shirley’s intentions. Is it supposed to be bad? Is it supposed to be funny? Is he making fun of me or is he just dumb enough to think this is clever?

What I think this dialogue and these characters represent is Shirley’s attempt to complement BioShock's audio diaries. Again, we hit that divide between the ways stories are best told through different mediums. BioShock’s audio diaries are the literary equivalents of bullion cubes. That’s because you experience dialogue sparingly in a video game, and most content is wrapped up in gameplay, so you’ve got to get your whole idea across as quickly and densely as possible.

It’s for this reason that every BioShock character is an outsized caricature. In the same way that Fontaine is a symbol of Objectivism in its purest form (let's face it, the fountainhead of Man with a capital M), McDonagh is Andrew Ryan’s conscience, and Andrew Ryan is Man falling for the lies of the demiurge. Jasmine Jolene—whom we will see in Chapter 3—represents untenable fantasy.

Oh, and Shadow Eve.

Y’all wanna talk about Shadow Eve? I do. There's only like three of us reading this and I'm counting myself so I'm assuming the vote is unanimous.

Long story short, Shirley doesn’t understand the differences between video game narratives and literary ones, and this fact is probably going to hurt me until the end of this entire broken endeavor.

Shirley also feels like he needs to show Fontaine at work at all times. In his mind, Fontaine is nothing but cons 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Shirley only knows what people do; he doesn’t know why they do anything.

In any case, Fontaine shoos off the Great Value Mobsters, for he has spotted our G-man from earlier, a man named Voss. It appears that Voss is looking for informations.

[Voss] leaned across the bar so he could be heard over the noise. “Word on the street is, this here’s your joint now.”

Originally, I had been reading this quickly, only to run into this paragraph and get terribly confused. Like damn, word travels fast, it’s been 30 minutes and everybody already knows this is Fontaine’s bar?

I had to go back and re-read. The passage of time is suggested somewhere in the info-dump that tells you everything about Fontaine instead of growing him organically over a generous period. It’s done terribly but at least it happened.

Voss crooked a finger, leaned even farther across the bar. Gorland hesitated—then he leaned close. Voss spoke right in his ear. “You hear anything about some kind of big, secret project happening down at the docks? Maybe bankrolled by Andrew Ryan? North Atlantic project? Millions of bucks flowing out to sea…?” “Nah,” Gorland said…. “What kinda deal’s he up to?” “That’s something we don’t… something you don’t need to know.”

haaaaaa haaaaaaa haaaaaaaaaaaaaack

In any case, Fontaine has it in mind that if there are millions of dollars flowing out to sea, he wants in on it somehow.

He didn’t hear anything about Ryan for a couple of days, but one day he heard a drunk blond chippie muttering about “Mr. Fatcat Ryan… goddamn him…” as she frantically waved her empty glass at him. “Hey wherezmuh drinkie?” demanded the blonde.

oh…………. oh this is a hate crime

Have you ever heard of Born Yesterday (1950)? Go watch a clip and listen to the actress, Judy Holliday. Her voice is what I hear in my mind. Except in Born Yesterday the protag is a human being and not a one-dimensional cutout with tits. And Born Yesterday is perfectly representative of its time so the fact it’s outclassing a writer in 2011 is shameful. The only question I have left about this book is, “Who cannot dunk on John Shirley?”

Now I think I understand Shirley a little better. I’m going to give him the benefit of a doubt and assume that we are looking at this crying woman through Fontaine’s eyes, and that this is not reality, but his fucked-up perspective.

You know how I was talking about the relationship between third-person limited POV and bedrock reality? This is one of those breakdowns. In third-person limited, we can see inside of one person, but nobody else. They occupy a world limited by their bias, but that world operates outside of them according to its own logic, which our Subject may or may not be able to comprehend truthfully. There should be clear divisions between what the Subject knows and perceives versus what is happening outside of them. When outside characters speak, or outside events occur, the reader should be assured that they really occurred in the ways they are shared. Otherwise there’s nothing solid to latch onto.

But I’ve got to be honest: I don’t know if this is intentional or not. I have never questioned point-of-view this way in my life. How much have I taken for granted in my tiny span? How do you learn to do something like this so, so badly?

This is John Shirley. We taught him wrong, as a joke.

Of course he wears all black and a goofy hat. Then he sucked all the contrast out until he was clothed in void. Does he think he’s a warlock

Long story short, this POV shit feels like madness to me. Should prose cause seasickness? The way this book is fucked up is one of the most unique experiences I’ve ever had. Although I’m learning a great deal from it, I also hate this experience. And I hate John Shirley.

“I’ll have a Scotch if I can’t have my man back,” she sobbed, “that’s what I’ll have! Dead, dead, dead, and no one from that Ryan crew is saying why.”

Ms. Ogyny the Exposition Whore has managed to interest me despite my deep loathing. I spy a mystery!

Coincidentally, this is why Fontaine’s sections tend to be the most interesting: he’s actively trying to figure things out where other characters just kind of hover in time and space.

New Reasons for Me to Feel an Unearned Sense of Superiority

Some of Shirley’s idiosyncrasies start popping out here because I’ve had some time to suffer under his patterns, much like a player getting their ass handed to them under an Elden Ring boss. For example, he sticks dialogue inside of descriptive paragraphs, and he thinks “went on” is an acceptable dialogue tag. I thought that was a fucking error until it happened the second time.

(✿◠‿◠)ノ.❀。• *₊°。I still think it is a fucking error ❀。• *₊°。 ❀

In my opinion, dialogue can be stuck with a descriptive scene, but it should be limited to the speaker’s actions alone. The implication is that the speaker is performing an action while speaking. Shirley will just slap dialogue into a paragraph with multiple actors and let the reader sort it out.

The reason why this is a problem is that it becomes questionable who the speaker is until you find a subject-verb or infer from context clues. Also, the longer the descriptive sequence, the more you have to think about the time taken to say the sentence as the character is performing the action.

You do not want your work to feel like this:

This is where I noted another little idiosyncrasy: every time Shirley does any research, he regurgitates it almost wholly undigested. Here, in an example from the prologue, he discusses the outfit of a Red Army soldier:

“Father,” Andrei whispers, in Russian, turning to look at a tall lean man in a long green coat with red epaulets, a black hat, a rifle slung over his shoulder. “Is that man one of the Red Guard?”

“in Russian” no shit

“Oh, that’s perfectly reasonable,” you may protest.

Then how about this sequence in Chapter 2, where he talks about boxers:

The talk at the crowded bar tonight was full of how Joe Louis, the Brown Bomber, back from the war with a pocketful of nothing and a big tax debt, was going to defend his world heavyweight title against Billy Conn. And how the retired Jack Johnson, first Negro to win the heavyweight champ title, had died two days before in a car accident. None of which was what Gorland needed to know.

(✿◠‿◠)ノ.❀。• *₊°。then why the fuck did you mention it ❀。• *₊°。 ❀

My chief complaint about the first set of descriptors is the list of prepositional phrases and weak adjectives and verbs. It’s a lot of talk with no power or aim. Additionally, Shirley just wrote about a dozen other people while mentioning their appearances so briefly that they might as well have been plywood standees, so a thoughtfully colorized soldier jumps out like a cat in a shitty horror film. That said, if you’re not a picky bastard, it may not bother you.

But the second one is outright incorrect. None of these historical people or subjects have anything to do with Fontaine’s current aims, nor with what he does next. It’s just there to prove that Shirley did research. If anything, it shows Shirley’s weakness: he doesn’t know how to smoothly blend research into his work.

This description is like stirring your cookie batter three times and calling it done, then spooning out a big lump of baking powder.

Shirley just put that shit in the oven.

“I just want my Irving back,” she said, her head sagging down over the drink. Lucky the song coming on the juke was a Dorsey and Sinatra crooner, soft enough he could make her out. “Jus’ wannim back.” He absentmindedly poured a couple more drinks for the sailors at her side, their white caps cocked rakishly as they argued over bar dice and tossed money at him. “What became of the unfortunate soul?” Gorland asked, pocketing the money and wiping the bar. “Lost at sea was he?” She gawped at him. “How’d you know that, you a mind reader?” Gorland winked. “A little fishy told me.”

gross

God, this paragraph is ugly and I hate it. Shirley splits the lady’s dialogue, part of which butts up against Fontaine and two sailors and causes a moment of cognitive dissonance. Shirley is ridiculously specific as to the song playing when “soft crooner” would have sufficed. The true note of interest—the data that Fontaine is sniffing out—skitters around the outsized imagery like a stupid cartoon creature.

Shirley does have a strength, and it’s in visuals. I can see and feel and smell this bar. Unfortunately, his visuals are static and progress little to nothing. Also, from what I can tell, it’s his only skill, unless causing headaches is desirable.

Also, before I leave this part, I want to clarify that there’s no problem with mentioning historical events, organizations, music, speech, people, etc, in your historical novel, and in fact you should, but if that description is at the expense of your plot, you have erred.

In any case, Fontaine asks this unfortunate caricature of womanhood what happened to her beloved. Shirley writes a long and embarrassing paragraph of dialogue that cannot end soon enough, and when it does end, it’s like this:

“Well, I went over to the place that hired him, Seaworthy Construction they was called—and they threw me out! Treated me like I was some kinda tramp! All I wanted was what was comin’ to me… I came out of South Jersey, and let me tell you, we get what we’re owed ’cause…” She went on in that vein for a while, losing the Ryan thread.

You lazy fucking bastard.

This is not the first time Shirley has ended a paragraph like this, either.

A Visual Depiction of the Dismount

Look, there are graceful ways to ease out of dialogue. Shirley doesn’t care what they are. Dialogue stands between him and a description of a “zoot-suiter [putting] a bebop number on the juke.” Do I care about that, sir? I do not. How about Andrew Ryan? How about Rapture? How about

Fontaine Shapeshift Moments Numbers 4, 5, & 6

One of Shirley’s responsibilities as writer is that he needs to illustrate the kind of person that Fontaine is. As far as I’m concerned, he’s done it several times over. It is abundantly clear that Fontaine is an asshole, and it’s clear what kind of asshole he is, even if he is kinda boring. Now that Fontaine has the Rapture thread, you would expect for him to follow that, because that’s what I’m reading this book for.

Obviously, that’s why Shirley takes Fontaine to a boxing ring! Because it is time to throw a fight! After all, we must follow up on that Great Value Mobster thread! We care so much about that! My heart throbs with anticipation! About Twitchy and Snorts!

See, Shirley did not illustrate one specific trait of Fontaine’s, and he thinks it’s important enough to digress to it: Fontaine’s ability to shapeshift, as it were.

“My name’s Lucio Fabrici,” Gorland said, tying Steele’s glove’s nice and tight. “Bianchi sent me.” … “Fabrici” had gone to great lengths for this disguise. The pinstripe suit, the toothpick stuck in the corner of his mouth, the spats, the toupee, the thin mustache—a high quality theatrical mustache carefully stuck on with spirit gum. But mostly it was his voice, just the right Little Italy intonation, and that carefully tuned facial expression that said, We’re pals, you and I, unless I have to kill you.

Wait. Was “spirit gum” called that in 1946? Oh, I don’t care.

It’s worth mentioning that I have noted two black characters so far—the boxer from the historical infodump and Steele’s trainer, who Fontaine paid to scram—and Shirley doesn’t let the trainer talk. And you know what? Given how he writes dialogue, that’s probably the safest option.

After Fontaine throws the thrown fight, he goes to his bookie operation.

[Fontaine] walked over to Morry, to have a gander at the take, and heard a couple of the dockworkers talking over their flask. “Sure, Ryan’s hiring big down there. It’s a hot ticket, pal, big paydays. But problem is—real QT stuff. Can’t talk about the job. And it’s dangerous too. Somewhere out in the North Atlantic, Iceland way…”

First of all, there’s the unnecessary description. Can’t we just assume that Fontaine walked somewhere? What does that add to the narrative? Use stronger imagery or take that shit out. That’s literally your only skill and now you’re fucking that up, too.

Second of all, split the dialogue off, why do you keep sticking it to random fucking descriptions.

Third of all, how does the entire fucking world not know what Andrew Ryan is doing? Half of what Fontaine has learned has been from overhearing random people. It’s like the whole universe is conspiring to help Fontaine out, and it’s getting a little weird, I’m gonna be honest. Every time I randomly overhear people it’s things like grocery lists and brain-dead political takes. When will I overhear where to find one million dollars

Then there’s how Fontaine reacts when he overhears this information. This sentence immediately follows the paragraph above:

[Fontaine] slipped outside by the side door and set himself to wait.

He literally says nothing to anyone. He just leaves. He’s just had an intense exposition-filled conversation with his employees and then he’s like whoops bye bitches fuck your lives

Look at how fucking pathetic this sentence is, too. “Set himself to wait”? I actually double-checked this after an edit because I was sure I’d inserted a typo. No, it’s just this bland.

This whole sequence was almost certainly written at a sprint. Words and phrases are weak as shit—no emotional power, no visual or spatial sense, no movement. There are no smooth transitions and, quite naturally, no tension. It’s just one domino falling after another. You wanna take a moment and think?

NO.

RUN BITCH.

RUN

Fontaine follows the deckhands until they reach their ship—the Olympian.

Gorland tilted his hat so the G-man wouldn’t see his face and strolled over, hands in his pockets, weaving a bit, making like he was drunk.

There’s some more embarrassing tryhard dialogue but you can read it yourself.

“Making like he was drunk.” jesus christ are you even trying

The only important part is the deckhand arguing with an officer.

“I just ain’t shipping out to that place again, and that’s all there is to it,” snarled the deckhand in the black peacoat. … “I don’t mind being on the ship—but in that hell down below, not me!” “There’s no use trying to say you’ll only take the job if you stay on the ship—it’s what Greavy says that goes! If he says you go down, you go down!” “Then you go down in my place—and you wrestle with the devil! It’s unholy, what he’s tryin’ to do down there!”

Wait. What? Why? Why is it unholy to build things under the ocean? Look, I was a religious nut for a huge portion of my life, and I can’t remember any taboos about checks notes building underwater?

As the deckhand takes off, having quit employment with Ryan Industries, Fontaine sees a piece of metal, picks it up, and runs after the deckhand.

“Hey!” the man yelped. Gorland held the deckhand firmly in place and pressed the end of the cold metal pipe to the back of his neck. “Freeze!” Gorland growled, altering his voice. He put steel and officiousness into it. … “You think I’m some crooked dock rat? I’m a federal agent! Now don’t even twitch!” [Fontaine said.]

Fontaine flashes a fake badge, then gets this deckhand to spill his guts. In two pages, he learns about Ryan building a city beneath the sea, complete with information about its technology and current state of construction.

End chapter.

Fontaine’s section of Chapter 2 runs from pages 39 through 54. In about two weeks, he has pretended to be six different people and learned everything he needs to know about Andrew Ryan.

You Can Always Try

I don’t know what Shirley was on at this point. In my mind, you devote one chapter to Fontaine at the tail-end of one really good con. Really put your effort into the con, show the ups and downs as the criminals attempt to outmaneuver the popo. Maybe show Fontaine fuck up some other criminal and then take his name. A shadow steps out of the smoke, adjusts his hat. “The name is Frank Fontaine.” Ohhhhh noooo I thought Frank Fontaine was that other guyyyy ooooooh shiiiiitttttt! And then never give out his background the rest of the story, and never show his internal world. Third-person objective: narrator stands outside of everyone. Keep Fontaine a huge question mark the entire story.

But Shirley was like, “Give Fontaine 3,000 cons in the same chapter, one after the other after the other, nonstop, don’t breathe, don’t stop, go go go go, and do it in such a way that Fontaine looks like the only human player in a world of NPCs.”

It just feels so unnecessary.

Here are images of Fontaine and Atlas.

That’s called “growing your hair out” and “cosmetic surgery” you fucking dumbass. It’s not that big of a deal. Now write something I give a shit about.

Question: how couldn’t the feds get all of this information in all the same ways, plus some? This is the FBI in 1946, the USA has just gone through WW2 like gangbusters, the Cold War is just warming up, and—most terrifyingly of all—J. Edgar Hoover is the FBI director. You think they give a single shit? Hell, I’m not sure they’d have to do much in the way of skullduggery at all. So far, the biggest problem with keeping Rapture secret has been employees talking.

Long story short, now Andrew Ryan and the US government look like chumps, and the narrative has the gall to imply Fontaine is skilled when he’s just unreasonably lucky. And if there’s one rule you should never break for a BioShock story it’s to make Andrew Ryan a fucking chump.

If You Must

Although having Fontaine front and center is not ideal, it’s also doable. So far, he’s the most interesting character in the book—probably because he’s solving the Rapture mystery. There are elements he doesn’t understand, which is a kind of tension, even if there are no repercussions for failure.

This tension is accidental. Just like every other character, Fontaine’s challenges and enemies are either neutered or indistinct. He hovers in a kind of eternal limbo where he is everything he has ever been. We can’t pretend it’ll get any better from here on out. However, let’s pretend that Shirley gives a fuck.

Now that Fontaine in a traditional character-driven narrative, we need to give him an arc. The Fontaine of Chapter 2 must not be the same Fontaine we see by the end of the story. We know Shirley will fail, but that’s the standard we’re going to judge him by. Remember: this isn’t BioShock-the-game. We’re writing literature now, so the aims and methods are different. If you’re going to use him as a major antagonist, he needs challenges to surmount, same as Andrew Ryan and Bill McDonagh and every other character ever.

So if you’re going to use Fontaine in this role, he has got to have an arc of some kind. He’s got to have something to overcome or learn or become because he’s in the kind of story that calls for that.

A competent writer would give you a reason to be interested in Fontaine. Shirley knows you’ve picked up this book because you’re a fan, so he presupposes you already are. So he just… doesn’t try.

jesus christ this lazy bastard. I hold him in utter contempt.

And I am just now at Chapter Fucking Three.

<- Part 5: Three Old Men Jerking Their Milk Sticks || Back to the Beginning || Part 7: Shadow Eve ->

#bioshock #bioshock rapture #frank fontaine #writing #reading #essays #rants #long post #vvatchword #vv reading #sorry for how awkward this gets but I'm tired and done now

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suffarustuffaru · 2 months

Note

What is your opinion on arc 8? For me its such a mess (probably bc tappei improvised arc 7 and 8, they werent in the original plan), i hope it will end soon

i do agree with you there on otto development but im definitelyyy biased *sweats in becoming an otto blog someone save me from the hyperfixation* but in my defense otto arc 8 development was the result of a slow burn since arc 3-4 and otto's various side stories but even without the side stories it feels like the logical conclusion that his arc was leading up to, which feels pretty solid to me for the most part (side eyes otto apologizing to the girl who sent assassins after him.... side eyes tappei's fixation on shipping otto's brothers and then not even elaborating on how that'd even work as dynamics) but. anyway i digress

arc 7-8 ive followed since their conception via reading it chapter by chapter. unfortunately i did also get kinda busy with irl stuff while the middle of arc 7 was happening so i had to do catchup and also my memory is Pretty Bad. if youre wondering how i remember certain lore so well its only bc i have to reread/rewatch/use that info for writing things a lot which is the only reason why i remember it HAH. so. all in all. my memory of arc 7-8 is pretty shaky. i did read the beginnings of arc 7 and 8 via the polished translations though on WCT a while back while the rest was mostly like as each chapter came out.

rn ive started rereading arc 6 and i have several side stories i need to finish (ana camp side stories, the wilhelm-theresia trilogy, and ex 5 are top of my list right now). and then eventually ill get to reading arc 7-8 in their entirety so that i can 1. have more knowledge of it and 2. so i can have more fully formed opinions on it. so definitely i could try answering this question again once im done with that. no idea when that is bc im kinda a slow reader but ill do my best HAH. but i do have some thoughts now!!

(arc 7-8 stuff under cut + a single arc 9 mention)

arc 7-8 i do have a few mixed feelings about, namely louis's arc so far, but im really trusting the process here bc tappeis writing is just like that sometimes. you really need to be patient and definitely while i have things to criticize about louis's arc particularly i do hope that the catharsis of her character kicks in hard later so !! im interested in that.

but generally like. arc 7-8 are pretty solid. as expected of tappei. there were a lot of really really fascinating stuff brought up, a lot of interesting characters that we got to know (and im a really big fan of how much love tappei puts into a lot of the side characters, it really makes the world of rezero fleshed out). subarus arc continues to be interesting even if i personally really dont like that he adopts louis as spica While he looks like hes the exact same age as her, it really broke my immersion a bit.

but anyway yeah like. arc 7-8 was pretty good. like objectively, in my opinion, theres a lot to love, even though personally it did take me a bit to warm up to it in the beginning. i definitely think though that they do feel a bit messy as arcs. with arcs 1-6 they flow really nicely into each other - you can tell they were really planned out and tightly knit. arc 7-8 does something really new - throwing us right into vollachia - which is interesting, but i do think it does feel a bit less planned out, which makes sense bc according to tappei vollachia was a change in his original plans. this isnt bad on its own and we got two giant arcs out of it that were pretty fun. but there are points i feel that you can kinda Tell that it wasnt planned out. the slight reliance on the teleportation throughout arc 7 was like the first thing i noticed haah.

and my big worry after arc 8 is that like. tappei doesnt strike that perfect balance of still keeping vollachia and its cast relevant but like not letting them overshadow other matters that tappei needs to get to before finishing rezero. like i want vollachia to continue to matter after we've spent two really big and complex and busy arcs with vollachia, but i do want the focus to shift a little away from them gradually / bring up vollachia again later.

arc 9 so far in its 2 chapters at the time of me answering this ask has been really really good so far with wrapping up arc 7-8 while building up future conflicts. i do think however that since we spent time with vollachia this now comes with the expectation of branching out into kararagi and gusteko possibly - just bc we already know we're gonna spend a Lot of time in lugunica, as we have for a lot of rezero already, and we've spent a lot of time with vollachia, so narratively there probably needs to be some equality in that we should at least get a glimpse of other nations in the main route. so !! im interested in that possibility too and i think it would fit rezero well.

so yeah thats like. my personal opinion on arc 7-8 and i think reading through the whole entire thing wont change much of my opinions on the above besides me probably falling in love some more with the cast and understanding the story during this time period more deeply (and probably having more thoughts on louis and rem). i do hope that you reconsider your stance on arc 7-8 though anon!!! but if not thats totally fair too.

#rezero #re:zero #ask #arc 7-8 spoilers

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sweeter-innocence-fics · 1 year

Text

My Sweetest Downfall - Chapter Eight

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Work Summary:

Eddie’s back from the Upside Down, but things aren’t exactly how he left them. Hawkins is in pieces, his friends are scattered and the love of his life is… pregnant?

Eddie Munson x Harrington!Reader

Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Epilogue

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1857

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye @eddiesgirlforever @harrys-tittie @munsonmoonshine86

Taglist info

Previous Chapter

Notes:

warnings for injuries, brief mention of domestic violence, general trauma

---

~ FIVE MONTHS EARLIER ~

The RV was parked out in a field. You sat with Steve and Robin, helping them make molotovs for the coming fight. Everyone had their job, preparing for what you hoped would be the final battle against Vecna.

Steve and Robin were being fairly morose, so you found your attention drawn over to Eddie and Dustin. They were supposed to be making shields, but that had quickly dissolved into play-wrestling.

You only noticed how much you were smiling when you caught Robin’s eye, and she raised her eyebrows at you. You quickly rearranged your face before Steve noticed.

Maybe you and Eddie were still just friends, but after you’d spent the night together at Reefer Rick’s, it was hard to deny that you wanted something more. You hadn’t talked about it. You had no idea if Eddie even wanted to talk about it. Maybe it was just a one-night stand to him.

Beside you, you felt Steve tense as he watched Eddie and Dustin.

“He needs to stop messing around,” he grumbled. “This is serious. I don’t want Dustin getting hurt.”

He looked as if he was about to stand up, so you put a hand on his arm. “Don’t. Let them have a bit of fun.”

He continued grumbling, but went back to his work. Robin shared a knowing look with you.

She poked him in the ribs. “There’s no need to be jealous, dingus. Dustin still loves you.”

“I’m not jealous.”

You pouted at him in mock-sympathy. “It’s okay, Stevie. I know it’s hard seeing Eddie acting like a big brother to Dustin.” He looked about to argue, but you barrelled on through. “But he’ll never replace you. You know why?”

Steve looked at you, suspicion in his eyes. “Why?”

“Because you’re not like a brother to him. You’re like a mom.” Steve shoved you off your chair and Robin descended into howling laughter.

You landed flat on your back on the ground, laughing. The grass was cool under your skin.

“We about done here?” Steve asked.

“Sure.”

When you turned your head to the side, you realised that everyone was looking your way. Nancy had a confused look on her face, while Max looked amused. Lucas and Erica had twin expressions of perplexity. You might’ve felt embarrassed if Eddie hadn’t caught your eye and shot you a grin. You grinned back at him.

The Upside-Down was cold. With your help, Dustin and Eddie were barricading his trailer. The windows were all covered now, and the door was almost done.

Steve was helping Dustin nail a piece of wood in place. It was now or never. Eddie had just stepped back from nailing in his last plank, hands on hips. You took the opportunity to grab him by the wrist, leading him around the back of the trailer. He looked surprised, but came willingly.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Deep breath. If you didn’t do this now, you might never do it. If he turned you down, you could blame it on the adrenaline and the fear for your safety.

You pressed a finger to his lips. His eyes widened.

“Stay safe,” you whispered, and then you kissed him. To your relief, his hands fell to your waist at once, trying to pull you closer, but then you heard Steve calling your name. “I have to go.” You separated from Eddie, your lips separating with an audible smacking sound. He looked bereft. “Come back to me, okay?”

He took your hand in his and leant down to kiss the back of it. “Of course.”

As you walked around the side of the trailer, Nancy and Steve were standing there watching you. You straightened up, trying not to look like you’d just been caught.

“We need to go,” said Nancy. You followed her away from the trailer.

~ PRESENT DAY ~

One by one, the demodogs disintegrated. Their bodies collapsed, leaving behind only ash.

Beside you, Eddie coughed. As you turned to him, a thick plume of black smoke poured out of his mouth. He stumbled forward, catching himself on the porch railing. You set your gun down and went to his side.

“Eddie?” Your tone was worried. You put a hand on his arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I’ve got some Vecna coming out of me.” He coughed again, one hand on his chest, more black smoke coming from his mouth.

You slipped under his arm, supporting some of his weight. “Gross. I’ve got you,” you said.

“I know you do.”

You met his eyes. In all the chaos, you hadn’t noticed the sky beginning to lighten. It was sunrise. In the sun, his eyes were lit up a golden brown. He smiled at you, and your heart swelled.

“I love you, you know that?” he said. His tone was relaxed, but there was a pleading look in his eyes. You put one hand on his chest.

“I know.” You smiled at him sideways. “I love you too.”

His hands found your waist while you grabbed his face, pulling him down to kiss you. His arms felt so strong – inhumanly strong – wrapped around you. Maybe there was still a piece of Vecna there after all. But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

Behind you, the front door slammed open.

“She did it! Eleven did it- Oh.” The two of you pulled apart to see Dustin holding his walkie-talkie, looking embarrassed at the scene he’d just walked in on. You tried to disentangle yourself from Eddie, but he held fast. He seemed to relish the embarrassment he was causing.

That was, until he coughed again, releasing more black smoke. He pulled away from you, wheezing, and put his hands on his knees.

“Is he okay?” asked Dustin.

“Eddie?” You touched his shoulder. He couldn’t respond. He slumped down onto his butt, hands on his head.

Distantly, you heard a car engine. You knelt down in front of Eddie and put your hands on his shoulders.

“Look at me. Please?”

He turned his head up to face you. His eyes were watering. He covered his face with his arm as he coughed again, letting out more smoke.

“Will! Mike!” Dustin shouted from behind you.

You turned to see Steve’s car pulling up in front of the cabin. Sure enough, Will and Mike jumped out of the backseat.

“Oh, thank god,” you said, feeling your knees buckle, almost landing on Eddie.

His hands came out to catch you, not as smoothly as earlier. The superhuman strength seemed to be fading.

Will looked unscathed. Mike’s clothes were bloody and torn, but he was standing under his own power. A knot of stress that you’d been holding in your chest released. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding.

Steve got out of the car and his eyes fixed on you at once. He beelined for you, falling to his knees to throw his arms around you.

“Steve,” you breathed, squeezing him tight.

“Fuck,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Not that this isn’t a beautiful moment, but you guys are kinda crushing me right now,” said Eddie.

“Sorry!” You looked down at him, and found him grinning back at you.

Steve stood up, and you let him help you to your feet.

“Are you okay?” he asked, holding your arm out to get a better look at where the demodog had clawed at you. His eyes caught on your neck, and he grimaced. You could only assume that it was badly bruised.

“I am now. How did you find them?” You gestured at Will and Mike.

“I was coming back to get you. Dustin called me on the radio. And then I saw them in the woods. They were about to swarmed by demodogs. Will was in some kind of trance. I think he was going to Vecna. We managed to get Will into the car, but then it all just sort of… stopped? I guess Eleven did her thing.”

“And what about you? Are you okay?” His shirt was torn too, his torso a bloody patchwork.

“Oh, this? It’s nothing.”

You stared at the rips in his shirt. His skin was littered with familiarly shaped bite marks. Demobats. You swayed on your feet. Steve grabbed your arms to stop you from falling. Eddie straightened up behind you, putting his hand on your lower back.

“It’s not nothing,” you said, your voice trembling. You couldn’t understand why you felt so lightheaded. All the fear and hurt that you’d been holding in, trying to be strong and protect the kids, was crashing down on you now. You couldn’t stand the idea of your brother doing the same to protect you, only to crash and burn in private. “Steve.”

“What?” His eyes widened in panic. “What’s wrong? What did I say?”

“I’m just worried about you.” Embarrassingly, you felt tears rolling down your cheeks. “You’re hurt.”

Steve, looking bewildered, pulled you into a hug. “Shh, sweetpea, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight to you.

At Hopper’s insistence, you all went to the hospital to get checked out. The explanation you gave was that you’d all been camping, and been attacked by bears.

Unfortunately, that justification didn’t hold up for you. The nurse was staring at the fingerprint shaped bruises on your neck. You made up an excuse about running into a tree and getting hit by the branches.

She took in your obviously pregnant belly, and gave you a slip of paper with a phone number on it, telling you to call it if you needed help. From her tone, you could only assume it was a domestic abuse support line.

Since you were pregnant, the doctors and nurses spent far longer checking you over than anyone else. You were grateful to be reassured that you and the baby were both okay, but you just wanted to get home and sleep.

Eddie was waiting outside the room when you came out. He had had his own share of cuts and bruises that were now bandaged up. The nurse gave him a side-eye as you embraced him, but said nothing.

“What was that about?” he asked, his face pressed into your hair.

“The bruises. I think she thinks I’m being abused.”

“Oh.” He pulled back, a serious expression on his face. It looked very out of place there. “I know I said it before, but I am sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“You didn’t do this. Vecna did.”

“Still. He used me to hurt you. I don’t blame you if you’re upset with me.”

“Eddie.” You brought your hands up to his face and squeezed his cheeks. “You’re basically a teddy bear. I know that you’d never hurt me on purpose.”

You released him and he chuckled. “Careful. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.” He closed the distance between you until your noses were almost touching. “Can’t have anyone think I’m going soft.” His hand went to your belly, cupping your bump.

“Can’t have that,” you agreed, kissing him.

---

Notes:

epilogue will be up in a little bit :)

Epilogue

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x harrington!reader #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #steve harrington x sister!reader

78 notes · View notes

2dmenenthusiast · 11 months

Text

Last Night on Earth Final Part

(Ethan Winters x Gn!Reader)

yo yo yoooo I have nothing to say other than this was a painful chapter to write hahahaha :) But thank you to everyone who has liked, commented, and reblogged this fic, it means the world to me, and I can't wait to write the next installment!

ALSO the title of this fic was based on this song

Warnings/other info: none I can think of!

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9 Final

The hospital was so clean it almost made you uncomfortable. All you’ve known the past few years was the swamp and mold everywhere, so being somewhere this neat and tidy was… something you weren’t quite used to. You were used to you being this clean. When you first arrived, a couple lovely nurses took you away and scrubbed you raw, and then threw away your clothes. Not that it was much of a loss. They had been torn beyond repair, and were most likely covered in more contaminants than you could count. But, you were given a BSAA logo hoodie and some comfy sweatpants, so it was really a win in your book.

After they ran some EKG’s and a few other tests you couldn’t remember the name of, you were deemed healthy. Now, you were just waiting for the labs to come back with an explanation for your high regeneration. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared of what the results might be. You knew you weren’t infected anymore, but the idea of the virus still lingering inside you, it wasn’t exactly a comforting thought. Especially when you knew so little of what it actually was.

Your leg bounced impatiently on the edge of the hospital bed, fingers fidgeting and a sigh leaving you for the umpteenth time. The doctors wouldn’t let you leave your room for whatever reason, and you were getting increasingly impatient. You had received no word about Zoe or Ethan, your only knowledge being that they were stable, and that was it. A voice in your head was telling you to just say ‘fuck it’ and go looking for them, anyway. But, you felt like you were on thin enough ice as it was.

When the door opened, you shot up off the bed and held your breath, hoping to see one of the two people you desperately wanted to see. But when Chris’s large frame came through the door, you sighed and collapsed back onto the bed.

He chuckled. “What? Not happy to see me?”

You sighed, shaking your head, “It’s not that. I’ve been waiting in this room for hours and they still won't let me leave.”

“Well, when the labs come back, I’m sure they’ll let you see your sister.”

You perked up at the mention of her. “Is she alright?”

He sat in the chair next to the bed and pulled it up so he was closer to you. “Yeah. Vitals are stable, she was given the vaccine and the virus seems to have cleared out of her system.”

You sighed in relief. “Good. Hopefully we can put this all behind us soon.”

Silence blanketed the room for a moment as you tried to find the courage to bring up what you wanted to ask next, but you found yourself swallowing down the lump in your throat and just coming out with it.

“Um… How’s Ethan? And Mia?”

Chris tensed, and while it was a small gesture, you still noticed it.

“Mia’s good. Same as your sister, she’s been given the vaccine and the infection cleared out. As for Ethan, he’s… okay. He’s healthy and awake, responding correctly. But, there’s a few things the doctors and I are concerned about.”

You moved to the edge of the bed. “What is it? He’s gonna be okay, right?”

“For the most part, yes. But I can’t tell you the rest. It’s classified.”

Your eyes narrowed. “‘Classified?’ You’re fucking kidding me.”

“I’m serious. Only the doctors, Mia, and I know—”

“Oh, Mia gets to know. The woman who was working for a terrorist organization. That Mia? Yeah, makes perfect sense.”

“She’s his wife. It’s a matter of safety.”

“Safety?! So- So, what you're telling me is that you, her, and a whole bunch of other people get to know, but the man whose safety you’re concerned about doesn’t?!”

“You don’t understand. And it’s none of your concern, either.”

“Bullshit! Ethan and I fought like hell together to get out of that hellhole, I have a right to know what’s going on with him.”

“You’re lucky I even told you we had concerns in the first place! Do you know how much shit I could get for disclosing any amount of information to you?”

“Oh, right. Wouldn’t want me getting you in trouble or anything with fucking Umbrella. Christ.”

The door squeaked open, and a blonde nurse popped her head in.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but if the noise continues, I’m going to have to ask you to step out, sir. You’re causing stress for the patient.”

You waved her off just as Chris went to speak.

“It’s okay. It won’t happen again, sorry.”

She gave you a tight-lipped smile and closed the door, and you sighed once she left, body deflating.

“Look, I don’t wanna fight with you. All I’ve done is fight for the past however fucking long and I’m tired of fighting.”

Chris almost looked guilty, not quite hanging his head, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes for a moment.

“I know. I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

“S’not your fault. Fuckin’ red tape bullshit.”

He hummed in agreement, and the silence that followed made your mind spin in circles. What could possibly be wrong with Ethan? You knew it had something to do with the virus, but what exactly? Was it incurable? Was he too far along that any dose of the vaccine would kill him? You could feel your chest tighten with each anxiety ridden thought, and you were grateful when Chris suddenly cleared his throat to get your attention.

“I um, I have something for you.” He reached behind his back and pulled out a photo frame, the back of it facing you.

When you took it from him and flipped it over, your breath stuttered in your chest and your heart stirred. It was an older photo, your parents sitting on the couch while you and Lucas sat in between them and Zoe rested on your father’s lap. This was only a few months after they adopted you. Your mother insisted on getting an updated photo of the family, considering its newest addition. You had never experienced more love and compassion in your life than when you grew up with them, and the memory made your chest warm.

You finally realized you were crying when a tear hit the glass, and you quickly sniffled and wiped at your eyes. “Shit. I’m sorry. I…” Looking up at Chris, you smiled. “Thank you for this.”

"It's the least I could do."

He stood from his seat, making for his departure from your room, when you stood up as well and grabbed his arm.

"Hey." He turned towards you. "Thank you for what you did for me, letting me go after Lucas. I won't forget it."

Chris scoffed, the sound bordering on a chuckle. "Not like you gave me much of a choice."

You huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, I guess I didn't."

Before he could leave, one of the Doctors stepped into the room, adjusting the glasses atop his bumped nose.

"Up on your feet, I see. You feeling better?"

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. "I've been up on my feet and ready to get out of this place hours ago. You guys sure took your time."

"Lots of tests to run. I'm sure you can understand."

With a shrug of your shoulders, you sat down on the bed again. "So? What's the diagnosis?"

"Well," he cleared his throat, flipping through your chart. "Your vitals are functioning normally, but we did find something interesting, of course."

"Regarding my, like, ridiculously fast healing?"

“Yes. Let's put it this way." He set the chart on the bed. “Your infection was more advanced than we originally thought. When you died, it sent the virus into overdrive and started your heart back up, as well as healed any previous injuries you had. You were about to reach the final stages of infection when you got the vaccine, which is why it didn’t kill you, but it didn’t get rid of all of the mold infected cells in your body. “

“So… I’m not gonna end up like my parents, right?”

“No. The vaccine and the antibodies are preventing that. And while you still have residual traces of the E-Series inside of you, you won’t have to worry about being controlled like your family either.”

You slowly let the information sink in, and you found that even with a medical explanation for all this nonsense, it still didn’t make sense.

“What about Zoe? She was as exposed to the mold as I was.”

“It’s completely out of her system. We believe that your death caused an excess of mold infected cells to form to revive you. You were lucky to get the vaccine when you did, or else you would’ve been completely infected.”

You forgot Chris was in the room until he suddenly spoke up.

“So they’re okay? No risk of suddenly growing an extra limb or something, right?”

The doctor chuckled and shook his head. “Not likely, no. Just make sure to get your annual vaccination and you should be fine. But, please remember that you’re not invincible. A shot to the head will still kill you, super soldier.”

You gave a mock salute with your two fingers. “You got it, Doc.”

He was halfway out the door when he turned his head back towards you. “Oh, and you’re free to visit your sister and friend if you would like.”

Your eyes lit up, practically jumping off the bed. When you looked back at Chris to make sure it was okay, he just gave you a nod with a small smile. With a wide grin, you practically burst out of the room and almost knocked down a nurse or two whilst you were rushing to your sister’s room. It took less than a minute to find her room, and while you had been waiting hours to see her, you couldn’t help but stand there, clenching your fists anxiously as you swayed back and forth on your feet. But it only lasted for a moment, and soon you were opening the door and locking eyes with Zoe.

“Holy shit,” she breathed.

You smiled. “Nice to see you, too.”

She laughed and stood from the bed, and you met her open arms with a tight hug. Your eyes squeezed shut, holding her like you haven’t seen her in years. It certainly felt that way. Just hours ago, you thought she was going to die from Evie’s weird, mind power bullshit, and now she was here, standing and talking and smiling. She was okay.

When your eyes started to sting, you pulled away before you could start crying like a baby in front of your little sister. When you got a good look at her, your eyes widened.

“Oh wow, your hair!”

She looked away with a shy grin.

“Yeah, a little parting gift from Evie,” she said, running her hand through her short, white hair.

You stepped back and crossed your arms over your chest, lips pursing as you examined her.

“I don’t know. I think it suits you.”

She scoffed. “Oh. shut up.”

“I’m serious!”

Your laughter bounced off of each other’s, and fuck, it felt so good to feel this again. To just be vulnerable and laugh and not have to worry about how you’re going to survive the next day. If only your parents were there to experience this with you.

You gestured to the bed, and you both sat down.

“So,” you began,“where do we go after this?”

She sighed, as if the weight of the question physically affected her. “I don’t even know how to begin to think about that. Been so focussed on survivin’ all this shit, I…” She grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “As long as we stick together, I don’t care where we go. Hell, we can move to fuckin’ California if you wanted to.”

You grimaced. “Eugh. I’ll pass, thanks.”

She pinched your arm and you punched her leg, falling into a fit of giggles when the door opened. You groaned, irritated that your time with your sister was being interrupted, and turned to whatever sorry soul that walked in.

“Can’t you hear we’re busy—”

The words died in your throat when your eyes locked on a pair of brown ones staring right back at you, and the air in your lungs vanished with a shuddered breath.

“Ethan.”

He let out a heavy breath, shifting on his feet as he took you in.

“Hey.”

Standing from the bed, you approached Ethan with slow, calm steps, despite everything in your body screaming at you to barrel into his arms and cling to him like he was a buoy in a vast ocean. You barely recognized him without the dirt and grime on his face. He looked good, slight stubble on his face and a scar on his nose.

You always dug guys with scars.

Raising your fist, you connected it with Ethan’s shoulder.

“‘Hey?’ I’ve been worried sick about you and all you have to say to me is ‘Hey’?”

Ethan chuckled and rubbed his shoulder. “You want me to ask you how your day’s going?”

You muttered for him to shut up before grabbing his arm and pulling him towards you, wrapping him in a tight hug that he immediately reciprocated. He squeezed you against his front, hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, and you closed your eyes as the warmth of his embrace enveloped you. As far as you were concerned, you never wanted to forget what this felt like. How his arms perfectly fit around you, how his front felt pressed up against yours.

Too bad it couldn’t last longer.

Zoe cleared her throat behind you. “I hope I’m not interrupting your quality time in my room.”

You chuckled and pulled away from him, but the warm hand Ethan kept on your back sent tingles shooting down your spine.

“Zoe. You’re looking well,” he said.

Your sister shrugged. “All thanks to you both.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t do anything. You had to endure our brother’s annoying ramblings when he kidnapped you and Mia.”

She let out a dry laugh, idly playing with a frayed corner of the blanket and suddenly avoiding your gaze.

“Lucas… is he…?”

“Dead. For good this time. I’ll save you all the gory details.”

You could almost feel the relief coming off of Ethan when you confirmed your brother’s death, his lungs releasing a deep sigh. Zoe almost looked disappointed, and if you were honest, you empathize with her. Lucas was barely pleasant even before Eveline came alone, but he was still your brother. Still your family. Even if he was a fucking psychopath.

Ethan cleared his throat, catching yours and Zoe’s attention.

“Uh, do you mind if I steal you for a second?”

You looked to Zoe, and she nodded, giving you the okay. When you relayed the same gesture to Ethan, he gave your sister a quick smile and led you out of her room, softly closing the door behind him. The quiet of the hallway suddenly felt overwhelming, because now you were left with every little thought and feeling you had about Ethan and his stupid, handsome face and every damn emotion felt like it was ready to come spilling out of you at any second.

Ethan Winters, you bastard.

You leaned against the wall opposite your sister’s room, sunlight spilling in through the window behind you. As soon as you looked at the man in front of you, your heart jumped into your throat and it was suddenly hard to breathe.

Fuck this. You hate this.

“So—”

You held up your hand. “Don’t—! I… Just give me a second because if you start talking, everything you say is gonna go through one ear and right out the other because the only thing on my mind right now is certainly not appropriate for our current setting.”

His eyes widened, surprised by your boldness, but then the asshole smirked and you immediately wanted to slap it off of his face.

“Uh-huh… Interesting.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

He barked out a laugh, the sound echoing off the white walls of the facility, and you hated how much you liked it.

“Ethan, I swear to christ—”

You watched as he closed the distance in just a few strides, fingers tracing over your jaw before cupping your face and fitting his lips against yours. You sighed through your nose and brought your hands to his chest, sliding them up until they rested at the base of his neck. It wasn’t a deep or intense kiss, but it was more than enough to have you weak in the knees and craving something more.

He pulled away much too soon for your liking and placed his hand on top of one of your own, giving it a squeeze. His gentle smile sent your heart aflutter, and you almost felt embarrassed of how smitten you probably looked. Like some dumb, lovesick teenager.

“You scared the hell out of me, you know. Going after your brother like that. I knew you would be okay, because somehow you always are, but…”

You gently pushed against his chest to create some distance between you and gestured to yourself. “Hey, look at me. I’m right as rain.”

If the rain had some weird mutation.

Ethan’s lips formed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and you could still see some leftover doubt in his expression.

“Hey.” You took his hand again. “You just snogged me in the hallway of a hospital. I’m more okay than I’ve ever been.”

He laughed and pulled you forward, kissing your forehead.

“I’ll make sure to kiss you in hospitals more often if that’s what you’re into.”

Eyes widening, you quickly pulled away and searched his face. You knew it was just a silly joke, but the way he said it made it sound like there was a future between you two. Like he would be around to kiss you and hold you whenever you wanted. But you knew that couldn’t happen. Because you barely had the rest of your life figured out and he had a fucking wife. A wife he went through absolute hell to find, and one you garnered zero sympathy for. Would he really waste all that effort he went through to be with you?

No. That’s next level delusional, and you were nothing if not a realist.

“What’s wrong?”

You blinked, realizing you hadn’t spoken for a moment, and cleared your throat as you shook your head. “Nothing. Um… how’s Mia?” Her name tasted bitter on your tongue, but you swallowed down your disdain and tried not to show it on your face.

“Oh, uh, she’s good. Doctors checked her out and she’s ready to go home.”

The smile on your face was forced, and it made your cheeks hurt. “That’s good! I’m glad she’s okay.”

Nothing was said between you for a moment, and you crossed your arms uncomfortably over your chest, suddenly felt dirty thinking about the kiss you shared with Ethan only moments ago. No, you didn’t like Mia. But even still, a part of you felt awful for even thinking about him like that, let alone acting on those feelings.

No shit. It’s her husband, for fuck’s sake.

You sighed. “Ethan, I—”

“Well I’ll be damned.”

Your head turned in the direction of the voice, smiling when you saw your Uncle Joe coming down the hallway towards you. All stressful thoughts were momentarily abandoned as you met him in the middle and leaned into his open arms, his tight hug practically crushing your ribs whilst he lifted you onto your tippy toes.

“Jesus, kid, how long’s it been?”

It gradually became harder to breathe in his embrace, and you took in a deep breath when he finally let you go. Joe’s always been tough, but somewhere in the years you haven’t seen him, you must’ve forgotten just how tough.

“Too long. I’m really glad you’re here.” Turning black to Ethan, you grabbed his hand and brought him forward to stand next to you. “This is Ethan. He helped us.”

He held out his hand, and Joe clapped his own palm against his before giving it a firm shake. You watched Ethan’s face as he winced, and couldn’t help but suppress a chuckle.

“Thank you, son. I really appreciate what you did for my family.”

Ethan gestured his head towards you. “If anything, they helped me. I would’ve been screwed if I hadn’t run into them.”

“Yeah. Tough sonuvabitch, ain’t they?” Joe chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, but chose to accept the compliment anyway. After everything, you deserved a little praise. But then your mind returned to the previous conversation you were having with Ethan, and your lips turned downwards.

“Hey, Unc, um… Could you give Ethan and I just a minute?”

Joe looked between you for a moment, lips disappearing under his beard as he gave you a small grin.

“Sure thing, kid. I’ll go visit with your sister.”

You said your thanks as he walked away and then sighed. Ethan’s expression was one of concern when he turned back to you, and you wished he wouldn’t look at you like that. You didn’t want to have this conversation, but this might be the last time you see him. The thought made your heart crumble.

But, the truth was… well, it was certainly a bitter pill to swallow. Something between you two couldn’t happen. As much as you wanted it to. He had obligations, a wife, a life far away from you that never had you in it to begin with. It was by dumb, stupid fucking chance that Ethan ended up in your life at all, and maybe under different circumstances, things could’ve worked out. But not now. Not like this.

“Everything okay?”

Ethan’s voice brought you back to earth, and you gave him a tight lipped smile.

“As okay as I can be.”

He didn’t seem satisfied with the answer, and when he took a step towards you, you took one back.

Fuck, this hurts.

“Hey—”

“Ethan, I—” you sighed, dragging a hand down your face. “I’ve never met anyone in my life like you, you know. I probably never will. So… When you go back to whatever life you had before you were roped into this fucked up mess, I want you to remember me. ‘Cus I will certainly remember you.”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… fuck.”

When he moved towards you again, you didn’t try to escape him, keeping your arms tightly wrapped around yourself. He muttered your name, and the sound of it softly tumbling from his lips was almost your breaking point. You swallow thickly, struggling to meet his eyes.

“I have lost so many people that I cared about. And I’ve learned to deal with it and move on because that’s what I have to do. But then… then you just fucking crash into my life and make me care about you. And I have to go through the same shit all over again.”

It hurt, pouring yourself out at his feet like this. But you had to get it out, because if you didn’t, it was just going to build and build and build until you couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. But, you wondered if suppressing it would’ve hurt less than just spewing out all your feelings.

He shook his head. “What? You’re not losing me.”

“What do you think this is, Ethan? That you’re gonna leave your wife, never go back to California, and run away with me while I try to figure my life out? That you’re gonna be patient with me through the nightmares and the pain?”

“We haven’t even talked about this! You’re acting like everything is gonna go a certain way when you don’t know that.”

“It can’t be any other way!”

Your voice echoed down the hallway, and you cleared your throat to try and regain some sense of control over your emotions.

“You have obligations, and I’m not gonna be the one holding you back from them.”

Turning to walk away felt more painful than when your brother smashed your head open, and you clenched your jaw tightly as you willed yourself not to cry. But, the telltale burning of your eyes proved you to be unsuccessful.

“What if it was my choice?”

You stopped in your tracks, turning your head.

“What?”

He started walking. “What if it’s my choice? To leave. To be with you. What if that’s what I want?”

Every word that came out of his mouth was like shrapnel to your heart. You wanted that life. You wanted it so fucking bad it hurt.

So why couldn’t you have it?

Because this was reality. A fucked up, shitty reality. And you couldn’t have everything you wanted.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” He gripped your arm, turning you to face him. “I’m serious. I’m serious about you, about how I feel. I know you feel the same.”

God you did. More than he knew. You think you liked him too much if you were being honest. Which is why it hurt all the more when you swallowed down every confession you wanted to throw at him, and said something completely different instead.

“Go to Mia. She needs you.”

“Do you still love your wife?”

That seemed to stop him in his tracks, because he was suddenly speechless as he opened his mouth and tried to search for the right words. Ones that wouldn’t hurt you. His silence did enough of a job of it, though.

You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his racing heart beneath it.

The words were painful to say, and you wished you could take them back. Because god, the look on Ethan’s face when you said them might’ve been one of the most painful things you’ve ever seen.

When you went to pull your hand away, Ethan captured it faster than you could blink and yanked you into his chest, crashing his mouth down onto yours. You inhaled sharply, his hands cradling your face with a gentleness that contrasted with the roughness of his lips. His thumbs on your cheeks caught your rogue tears. It felt like he was breathing you in, committing you to memory with each bruising kiss that sent your brain spiraling and your heart into overdrive.

You clutched his shirt tightly in your hands, and when he finally pulled away with a gasp, you didn’t want to let go. Because this was it. This was probably going to be the last time you’d ever see him again, and the fact was absolutely crushing. Like your heart had been ripped out of your chest and smashed on the ground.

“Hey.” You gazed up at him, watching as he searched his pockets before grabbing a pen that he probably nabbed from a doctor.

“Turning to a life of crime already?” you joked.

He smiled, and damn if it didn’t make your heart stutter. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, clicking the pen before dragging the ball point across the back of your hand. His number.

“Ethan—”

“You said to remember you. I don’t want my only memories of you to be of us fighting for our lives. We’ll keep in touch, I promise.”

With a sad smile, you nodded, despite the doubt you felt in the pit of your stomach. It was better than nothing, and it was all you could ask for. With one last hug, you willed your feet to begin moving in the opposite direction, and it took everything in you not to turn around and give him one last glance. Because if you did, you’d run right back into his arms again, and you couldn’t do that to him. Couldn’t do that to you.

Shit. You didn’t think it would hurt this much. Thank god you were turned away from him, because you couldn’t stop the tears from rushing down your face. Your footsteps sped up into a light jog until you made it back to your room, shutting the door behind you as calmly as you could before the facade broke. Your back pressed against the door, and you choked on a sob whilst you slid down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest.

For the longest time, you thought growing close to anyone would be impossible. After the constant abuse you suffered in foster homes, and the loss of your friends in the field, you closed yourself off, only letting your family see a little behind the stone walls you took so long to build. And you were comfortable that way. Despite it being a lonely life, you never gave anyone the opportunity to hurt you ever again.

And then Ethan Winters came and smashed your walls down with a fucking wrecking ball.

You couldn’t describe it, but there was something about him that was just so inviting. Captivating. Maybe it was his kind eyes, or the way he spoke to you with assuredness and respect. Maybe it was something entirely different.

You wouldn’t call it love. You’ve known him for all of two days. But… it was certainly longing. A deep ache to fill the lonely void you’ve lived with for so long. Maybe it wasn’t even real. Maybe you’re just so desperate for companionship that you latched onto Ethan like a last resort.

But if that was the case, then why did it hurt so fucking much?

You gasped when there was suddenly a knock on the door, scrambling to your feet and furiously wiping at your eyes. It didn’t matter, the red rings around your eyes were a dead giveaway.

“Just a second.”

You cursed yourself in your head for how your voice trembled, clenching your fists so hard you formed small crescent shapes in your palms.

“Everything okay?”

Chris. It was just Chris.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you hesitantly put your hand on the doorknob and slowly opened the door. He smiled when he saw you, but it immediately dropped when he got a good look at your face.

Like you said, a dead giveaway.

“What’s wrong? Something happen with your sister?”

You shook your head, opening the door wider so he could enter the room. “No, nothing like that. Just some other stuff. I… don’t really wanna talk about it.”

Chris nodded, respecting your boundaries, which you were more than grateful for.

“Alright. I wanted to discuss some things with you, if that’s okay.” He gestured to the bed, and you sat down, him taking his place next to you. “I finished up my report on the mission and the BSAA just got back to me. They were impressed with your performance.”

You smiled, trying to mask the aching of your heart as you pointed both thumbs towards yourself.

“Super soldier, remember?”

He chuckled, and the sound comforted you in a small way.

“What would you think about joining up?”

Your brows shot up. “I’m sorry, you wanna recruit me?”

“You’re good on the field, can handle yourself in a fight. You’re a decent sniper too, right? You were a bit reckless on the mission, but your fast healing made up for it. If you were to join, though, you’d have to make sure not to pull stunts like that again.”

“You say that like I’m considering it.”

“Are you?”

You paused, looking down at your feet that dangled a few inches from the floor. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about joining the fight again. It was all you knew, and you were damn good at it. You just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Of course, what other options were there? Live a boring, normal life, working a nine to five? It sounded like hell. But, you had to think about Zoe first. Because wherever she went, you went, too. Ultimately, you were leaving the decision up to her.

“Let me talk to Zoe first?”

“You should do it.”

You practically jumped off the bed at the sound of her voice, snapping your head in her direction to see her leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest.

“When the hell did you get here?”

She shrugged. “Few minutes ago. I heard enough of your conversation, though.”

She came forward, sitting on the other side of you and effectively sandwiching you between her and Chris.

“You should join. I know it’s what you want. And I can take care of myself while you’re off killin’ god knows what.”

You faced your body towards her. “You’re not worried?”

She scoffed. “Please. You took shrapnel to your leg, fought like hell the past three years to get us out, and you’re still here. Alive. If anything, I’m worried about the sorry bastards that are unlucky enough to come toe to toe with you.”

You smiled at your sister’s praise, glad she believed in you more than you believe in yourself.

“It won’t just be people I’ll be fightin’, Zo. The BSAA deals with bioweapons. As in the shit we were facing those said three years.”

She shrugged. “So? Means you got experience, then. Like I said, unlucky, sorry bastards.”

Shaking your head, you wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into your side. “Alright, shithead.” You pinched her arm, and she pulled away to smack your leg.

With a chuckle, you turned back to Chris, and noticed him watching you with expecting eyes. You sighed, and like that, your decision was made.

“Where do I sign?”

The pack on your shoulder weighed heavy, causing you to slump on one side as you lightly kicked the suitcase at your feet. You had woken up at the ass crack of dawn to get to the airport on time, and after a warm shower and the excessively long cab drive, you were still an hour early.

3 weeks later

Where the fuck is he?

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you quickly fished it out to see a text from your sister.

You quickly typed up a response, fingers flying over the keyboard.

-6:15 Zoe:

Get there safe?

You smiled at that, glad she was feeling at home. You both had bought a small, two bedroom apartment somewhere just outside of New Orleans, and it was nice enough. Of course, when you brought up the idea of leaving Louisiana, Zoe shut that idea down with a firm “Hell no,” which was exactly what you were expecting. After all that’s happened, this place was still home to you, and you weren’t planning on leaving.

-6:15 You:

Yeah. Way too early for this shit.

-6:16 Zoe:

You’ll live. Apartment is looking nice.

After the shitshow ended, the BSAA and other government officials grilled you and your sister for information, and you told them everything you could remember. No, you weren’t happy with so many persons of authority sticking their noses up your ass, but you didn’t have any other choice. Afterwards, they made you sign some documents swearing on your life and liberty that you wouldn’t reveal any information about Eveline or anything else that happened to you, and you did so with mild irritation.

-6:17 You:

I expect it to be fully furnished and painted when I get back.

-6:18 Zoe:

You gonna send me the money?

-6:18 You:

Government pays well for you to keep your mouth shut.

At least you were safe. That’s all that mattered now.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Chris.

You rolled your eyes.

-6:20 Sir Punch-a-lot:

ETA 5 minutes.

With a laugh, you pocketed your phone and idly rocked on your heels as you waited for Chris to shop up. Seconds had barely passed before you grew fidgety and pulled out your phone again, mindlessly scrolling through apps. It had been years since you had a phone, and you barely knew how to function. You found yourself using it a lot these days. It was a good distraction from all the racing thoughts in your head.

-6:20 You:

You’re texting me, not the president. Stop being so formal.

-6:21 Sir Punch-a-lot:

It’s convenient. Less words to type.

-6:21 You:

Maybe you should try using a gif next time. Even faster.

-6:21 Sir Punch-a-lot:

Gif?

-6:22 You:

Oh dear god.

You didn’t know why, but your thumb mindlessly pressed on the contacts icon, and you read the three names you had in there.

Zoe

Chris

…

Ethan.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you pressed on his name and the options to call or text came up. It had been weeks since you last saw him, and despite him saying that you’d keep in touch, you haven't tried to call him once since then. There’d been many times when you considered it, holding your phone close to your face late at night, the UV light burning your eyes as you read his name and number over and over again. But, you always talked yourself out of it.

What if he moved on? What if he didn’t really want to hear from you, and he said all those things just to be nice? What if… What if Mia was making him happier than you could’ve ever hoped to make him?

You breathed out a sigh, clutching your phone tightly in your hand. You were about to travel to the headquarters of the American branch of the BSAA so you could be briefed, and you had no idea when you’d have another free moment to call him. Now was a better time than ever.

Anxiety crawled down your throat as you pressed the call button next to Ethan’s number, and with a shaky hand, you held the phone to your ear.

Ring…

Ring—

"We're sorry The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Goodbye.”

#Ethan winters #Ethan winters x reader #ethan winters imagine #resident evil #resident evil 7 #re7 #resident evil biohazard

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coconox · 6 months

Text

my whb progress 2

as of apr 7, 2024

since whb's half anni has passed, i thought i'd do a progress check to reflect on how much has happened btwn now and this post

general info

lvl: 47

status: 🤨 mostly f2p

i say mostly cause i just recently broke the f2p status and bought bp for ppyong

i refuse to buy packs and in the future i'll prob be very selective over who i pick for bp (aka i wont buy every bp), so for the most part i'll just be having the f2p experience

when i started: launch (10/03 my timezone)

ver: erolabs

team setup

i finally have levi now lmao

sometimes i'll switch out one of the levis for attacker satan but this is what i use generally

everyone's lvls and artifacts

skill lvls (normal atk-ult-passive)

attacker mammon: 1-3-1

selfie mammon: 4-5-4

selfie satan: 4-4-1

selfie beel: 4-4-4

bloodshed levi: 3-3-1

selfie levi: 3-3-1

secret club

i only work on completing mammon's unholy board

stuck on needing attacker mammon's sig atm :'))

materials

too lazy to screenshot it all but im basically broke on pies, tears, pretzels (tbf i dont play the minigame whatsoever), red keys, yellow keys, and seals

everything else im either ok in supply or overflowing w it

overall thoughts / reflection

this section is for me to look back on in the future when i do progress posts. i'll break down this section into multiple parts similar to my prev post for consistency

STORY

honestly, its interesting in concept. since sadly only 1 chapter has released btwn now and my last post so thoughts havent really drastically changed

ch5 imo wasnt really a full on hades chapter. yes, it takes place in hades and yes we get some intro abt hades, but i think this was supposed to act more like a bridge to tartaros, which is prob why we didnt have any h scenes w any hades chars aside from levi. ofc we'll get back to it being hades-focused eventually, but the story for a while is most likely gonna pivot to tartaros bc of that big lore drop abt mammon at the end

i assume we'll prob be introduced to the cherubs in tartaros bc of selaphiel txting us near the end + it being mentioned at the end that theres a hub of angels in the lab, and hopefully part 2 of mammon's h scene. it was strange at first for mammon to only have 1 h scene, compared to satan or levi that had 2, but w him implying theres probably gonna be a part 2 in his h scene + we'll most likely see him again in ch6 (or however many chapters tartaros will be played out), we'll prob experience part 2 in his home country. tbh that prob just me inhaling MASSIVE hopium since mammon isnt rlly that popular but i can dream ok-

i hope us being in tartaros doesnt last for just 1 chapter. you cant condense the experiments tartaros went through to create a clone of mammon only for them to fail + bring up the fact that the seed is prob also in tartaros in just 1 chapter. well— technically you can, but not at the pace chapters are at atm. chapters have roughly 15 parts of story on the main branch, and imo that much info abt tartaros cant be condensed into 1 chapter unless if they make the story bits like WAY longer than what they normally do

GAMEPLAY

tl;dr as an endgame player, its too easy 💀

working on the spreadsheet ever since the games 1st month of release and now just recently testing multiple team comps, the "meta" is so monkos HSHFJDJ

this game is INSANELY dependent on you having more than 1 dps/tank light card. light is also just an unstoppable element and i wish the game was balanced a bit more to let other elements shine

enemies are now way too easy to defeat. ik i prob shouldnt be complaining abt this but pls im a pgr and neural cloud player at heart I NEED SOME CHALLENGE

ch3 and ch4 were prob the most tedious and awful chapters, but at least they actually made me think when it comes to battles. now i just place down chars and let it play in the bg while i go do smth else. ofc this may just be bc i have a team that im comfortable w using everywhere, but id like to see at least a bit more "challenge" outside of holy coin portal

also, for weekly achievements, lvling artifacts is not a great requirement

i only pull when theres a new s rank or when mammon is moved to standard, so its very, VERY rare compared to avg users. having the artifact req is essentially forcing me to pull during those gaps just so i could fulfill a weekly req which sucks. i also dont need to lvl anymore artifacts in general for my team comp. lvl 15 is the bare minimum i need to get through all content w ease, anything after that is just a small boost tbh

on the note of daily/weekly requirements, there needs to be more of them

i mean in a sense of theres still gonna be 9 daily achievements, but you get more options on HOW you get to the 9 daily achievement req. most gachas that ive played always have more options than necessary to fulfill the overall requirement to get all rewards, so having this strict number w strict reqs is rlly not that great tbh

RESOURCES

thoughts from last time still havent rlly changed. pies and candies especially are still rng dependent which sucks, and now there gonna revamp pancakes while also keeping the old pancakes ???? theres way too many currencies (w some even having very little to no use) atp which can and will get overwhelming for new players

GACHA

i hate solomon seals. you can tell that red keys were supposed to be the main gacha currency if you ever look at old packs, but smth happened along the way and now we have seals

pity is also way too high for what we're earning atm. based off of f2p earnings, every week we get roughly 1 pull of red keys, maybe 2 pulls of yellow keys (red and yellow keys are more dependent on the key boxes which again, dependent on rng), and 1 pull of solomon seals. this doesnt include the stuff earned outside of dailies/weeklies, and i think there should be more ways to earn said currency through dailies/weeklies and not be so dependent on either paying or pulling chars

speaking of pity, i wish we had pity for both of the standard banners

i also wish theyd separate char and artifacts into their own banners. that way, if someone has a char but needs their sig, they can just pull in the artifact-only banner and try to get said sig

tl;dr in general i wish everything wasnt so strict and rng dependent, also wish numbers made sense like why do we get at least 5 red keys a week when 1 pull is 3, JUST GIVE ME 6 KEYS ATP

so yeah thats all for now lmao. im pretty sure i have a lot more to say abt this game but my minds at a blank atm, so ig thatll be saved for the next progress post which will be around 1st anni

#fbj rambles #whb

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cafeinthemoon · 2 years

Text

Ruins - Part IX

Chapter 9

Wordcount 3,9k

Title Part IX

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Pairing Hades X reader

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: none

Tagging @darling-imobsessed @holdyourwine (if you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment here or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: I've been so excited to complete this chapter that I've started to work on it right when the previous one was posted, and it took me just a few days to revise it! lol This time we will have more info about Hermes and his work with the human girls aka him being a parent and another encounter at the Secret Garden, full of symbolism and references, which you can read about on my Quotev's list. This chapter ended up longer than the previous ones because there are just too much info, but I hope you like it <3

– I’m glad for our encounters and our conversations, and for your gift. However... I can’t accept more than that.

You didn’t know who was more surprised by those words: yourself or the people who watched the interaction between you and the King of the Underworld. Hades, on his part, didn’t show signs of shock by your refusal, neither he seemed offended; if you were being honest, what you saw on his face was closer to confusion. You got along in each of the times you’ve seen each other: why would you break this pattern so suddenly?

This reaction is expected, and it hurts me more than I could tell him. But he will understand my reasons soon. He will understand that this is not my place.

You kept your hands stretched between you two and, for a second, you were afraid that he was going to refuse to take the hairpin back, but that was not what he did: after an instant of processing the unexpected event, he held the object in silence and hid it in a pocket on his coat. When his hand approached yours, you sensed the slight touch of his fingertips on your palm and felt tempted to close your hands around his, so that seeing it moving away was as painful as what you just said, but that wasn’t the time for weakness; you should not make things harder for yourself or for him.

You put your hands behind your back as you bowed. Right now, looking in his eyes would be the worst thing you’d do.

– It hurts me to disappoint you, my Lord, but it’s the right thing to do – you forced the last words out – I have to go, now. Goodbye.

You didn’t wait for a response, afraid that any word, any small gesture from him would shake your spirit and make you change your mind. Fortunately, the said word or gestures never came; as if collaborating with your decision, Hades didn’t make efforts to make you stay. You passed by him and walked toward the dome that connected that room and the next, where you talked to the elf.

The guests, still watching the scene, didn’t obstruct your way as you almost ran among them. You avoided looking around, terrified of what you would find in their gazes, and tried not to hear the waves of murmur spreading like fire in the room.

On your way to the entry, you almost bumped into a goddess whose pantheon you were too distracted to identify.

– I’m so sorry, my Lady… – you were going to say more, but the crack in your voice indicated that you would start to cry if you did, so that you kept quiet.

– Are you okay, child? – the woman questioned, frowning – What happened?

You didn’t reply. You just shook your head and left.

Finally, the great doors you crossed to join that party you helped to make possible – and about which you’ve been dreaming for days – appeared before you. They were heavy, but you managed to open them, just enough for you to pass.

The door closed at your back with a sinister slam, silencing the noises of the room as you let go of it and walked away through the corridor.

***

When you left the room, your feet were hurried up, as your only thought was getting as far from there as possible. Now you were running, and your mind was racing just as fast.

I don’t understand… If I made the right decision, why does it hurt so much? Why does my heart ache when I remember the expression on his face?

With your mind occupied with these questions, your feet followed an unconscious path toward the corridor through which Hermes led you after giving you the hairpin. Where you going back to the bedroom, then? What were you supposed to do once you got there?

You turned another corner and stopped when you saw you were no longer alone.

– Y/n?! What happened?

It was Hermes. Apparently, he was returning to the girls’ room or to his own chambers, judging by the direction he walked to, but he gave up on whatever task he had to fulfill when he saw your state: when you stopped, your whole body was trembling and your lungs were burning; you didn’t realize you were so desperate until you saw the shock you provoked on him.

Suddenly, you felt exhausted; you didn’t want to speak, neither you wanted to think of what happened. You just wanted to disappear. Your throat tightened, and thick tears started rolling through your cheeks. Forgetting where you were and who you were, you ran to Hermes like a little girl seeking for her parent; despite his confusion, he hugged you and made no questions until you stopped crying.

– So… – he started once you calmed down – Can you explain the meaning of this? Things were going so well when I left you at the party’s door. What happened, then? Did you meet him? Did you talk?

For a while, you were just able to make affirmative gestures with your head, but when you spoke, this was all you could say:

– I finally understood everything, Hermes-sama… I understood the meaning of my dreams… So I no longer have to stay here… – you breathed deep and looked into his eyes – Please… Give me your permission to leave…

He frowned.

– What?!

– Give me your official permit to leave, please! I don’t want to stay in Valhalla anymore! I want to go back home…

If Hermes considered continuing that discussion, he gave up on it the moment he heard those words. He has seen this before: some of the girls brought to Valhalla would not complete the process of adaptation for countless reasons, from being homesick to coming to the conclusion that staying under a god’s guardianship wasn’t the best for them; others would face – or cause – serious problems that would result in their forced farewell and, in rare cases, banishment. In each of those cases, he was there, in touch with every part of the cycle and with the girls’ thoughts and feelings, respecting their decisions, admonishing when necessary, working in favor of them whenever it was possible by standing between them and his own people, who wasn’t always willing to show mercy. He remembered that most of those humans were good girls in their essence, who would recognize their mistakes once he brought them up or think well before making their final decision and leave.

I just want to go home.

Most of those girls would end up saying those very words to summarize what they carried in their hearts. And, by all the things he witnessed beside them, Hermes would always take those words seriously.

He held you by your shoulders and made you look at him.

– Tell me. Do you still remember the path to the Secret Garden?

You didn’t understand why he was bringing this up now, but confirmed that yes, you remembered the said path.

– Good. Then, you have to go there. Now.

– Go there? But…

– Listen – he cut you off, as if there was no time to waste – Y/n, I know you don’t like this, but this time I need you to do as I say without question. Go to that garden. What you need will be found there. Just trust me, okay?

You wanted to ask more, but you knew you wouldn’t get anything else but that strange orientation. You nodded in obedience.

– I will do as you say, Hermes-sama – and, already moving away from him, – Thank you for everything…

He opened the way and you passed by him in fast steps, his last encouraging words echoing in your ears.

***

That was the first time you entered the Gardens at night, and you thought it was a pity that it happened right after such a difficult moment, for once you arrived at them, you found yourself surrounded by impossible beauty.

Wrapped in the trees, under the pedestals of the statues and all over the arcs and domes covered with cascades of flowers, there were white and bluish small lamps lighting up the way like fragments of the moon; due to their delicate structure, they were invisible during the day, but became fully alive at night. Thanks to their efficacy, you soon found the way to the covered stairs.

When you reached them, you had to slow down and raise your eyes to the green ceiling to appreciate what the lights done for it.

It’s so peaceful inside it. Almost ethereal.

For a second, you forgot your sadness and thought you would stay there forever if you could. But then you reminded yourself the reason why you were there, lowered your eyes to the stairs and followed your way down to the Secret Garden.

Your feet reached the last stair and your head left the protection of the ivy tunnel, and it wasn’t a surprise when you looked around and found out that this part of the Garden was superior to the rest during the night, not staying behind of its diurnal version in anything: the little noises of the bugs and the furtive steps of the small, nocturnal animals lurking in the shadow of the trees and bushes, the soft breeze whistling between the leaves, the water running in the stream, partially visible from your spot, the perfume of the night blooming jasmines spreading in the air… each corner of the place was as full of life as the loudest rooms, and would never allow suffering inside its limits.

And that’s strange… I’d probably feel lonely and desperate if I went to a different place. But it seems that I can clear my mind and process my feelings with no problems here.

Hermes-sama was right in sending you there. You did find what you needed – a bit of peace in your final moments at the divine lands.

You approached the stream and stopped at its shore, observing the lights reflecting on the water’s surface. It was impossible to stand there and not remember that day where you walked on the bridge and talked above the flow. The day you revealed your restlessness to Hades and he assured you of your right to dream.

Why did he do that, anyway?

And to think that, in the end, it would be thanks to a creation of his that you would find comfort after the unsettling episode at the party. Was it possible that he also considered the young women’s need for mental peace when he designed those gardens that way? How much of the human heart he must have known to be able to do this?

How much of my own heart he could get to know if we spent more time together here?

A low, rustling noise was heard over the grass behind you, different from the others you detected when you entered the garden. You turned…

And felt your eyes getting filled with tears again when you saw him there.

The ghostly, blue light descending from the trees and touching each spot of his figure – his gray hair; his garment, white from head to toe; the tattoo over his pale skin; his left eye, not covered by the eye patch, glowing in the penumbra, its lashes creating a delicate shadow over his cheek – they would make you believe you had a spirit before you, but you knew he was as tangible as yourself, with flesh and bones cradling the spark of his immortal life.

And that only made him more beautiful.

Hades walked toward you and all the feelings you experienced at the party’s room came back at once, grabbing your throat with monstrous strength.

The first words said between you were his.

– Hermes said I would find you here. I’m glad he wasn’t wrong.

Despite your agony, you found it strange that he arrived so fast. And how did he manage to speak to Hermes before it?

Ah, of course. He designed this place. He must know all the shortcuts and secret passages.

Part of you was relieved to notice that no wrath or sadness was present in his voice, but there you saw same expression he had when you gave him back the hairpin, and that didn’t hurt you less.

When he stopped in front of you, you swallowed, and no word came out of your mouth. There was a heavy silence, shared with the creatures of the garden that stopped their noises as if sensing the seriousness of the moment... which was broken by a sigh from him.

He took off his eye patch, putting it on his pocket, then smiled.

– Less scary, don’t you think?

Your chest ached with the gesture, and your lower lip trembled when you remembered how you begged to leave Valhalla without seeing that smile, that face one last time. You hid your face in your hands and started to cry.

Even after what I’ve put him through, he’s here, trying to make me smile.

You didn’t see what happened next, only felt it: a pair of arms surrounded your body and brought you close to a warm chest, as a soft hand caressed your nape. Now, the only thing you were listening to was his heartbeats, and all you could think of was that you should have never run away, for things were going to be fixed as long as you stood with him. However, weren’t you supposed to leave now that you understood your place as a human?

If that’s true, why do I feel like I’m going to regret it once I leave? How could I be able to leave when being with him feels so right?

– I’m so sorry for all of this… – you heard yourself whisper.

– What are you apologizing for? – he whispered back; and, making you look at him, – You did nothing wrong.

You wiped a tear from your right cheek.

– But, my Lord…

– Please – you felt the tip of his index finger touching your lips – You already know my name. Use it. I’d like to hear it in your voice a few more times.

A sudden, violent heat came up to your face. After what happened inside the building, you weren’t in conditions of denying him anything. And, since he was asking so nicely, why wouldn’t you do it? And you liked to discover it and even more to say it, didn’t you?

– Hades-sama, what I did in front of your family... I embarrassed you in front of everybody… – you frowned in genuine confusion – How can you not be angry because of it, my Lord?

Hades raised his left eyebrow, and the tattoo over it moved a bit.

– Because you used your right to refuse something? Why would I be angry or embarrassed for that?

– But I thought… All those looks…

– Looks? Ah, yes – he sighed, then smiled, finally understanding the problem – We can be really intimidating sometimes. For this, I apologize.

Before you could think of a reply, he offered his hand.

– But, for now, we’re free from them. Let’s take this chance to enjoy our surroundings. We still have too much to talk, right?

You put a hesitant hand over his, and this latter closed around yours with gentle firmness as he led you to the stream’s shore. There, he leaned on his right knee and rolled up his sleeves, wetting his hands on the flow.

– It’s always in good temperature by this hour – he invited you to approach – Here, try it.

When you knelt by his side, he filled his palm with water and gave it to you. Only after proving the water – so cold and refreshing that you felt like you were outside enjoying a summer night – you realized how your throat was sore and dry. Now, you sensed your strength coming back and your sight clearing up.

Your voice came out stronger when you spoke, too.

– It’s really good. Thank you.

Hades smiled in response and you washed your own hands on the stream, then cleaned your face from the tears. When you finished the service, you sighed.

– When your brother, Poseidon-sama, saw me, the first thing he said was that I have a decent face – you chuckled – I guess I lost all my decency now that the makeup is gone!

That was his time to laugh.

– Decent face... My little brother is not so good at complimenting people, I must admit – he took a pair of wipers from his pocket as he spoke; he gave you the first and used the other – But this is more than he has said about all the women he knows. He prefers to keep his opinions to himself, despite being a good observer.

– Yes, he made that very clear! – you laughed too. And he did it in the scariest way possible, you added in your mind.

His reply was preceded by a gesture that made you startle: with his fingers, he moved a thin, wet lock of your hair away from your forehead.

– Still, I’m afraid that he hasn’t seen half of what’s there to see this time. He didn’t witness this smile, after all.

If this was the way he found to praise your beauty, then Hades indeed had more talent with words than any of his brothers: persuasion was in each of them, so much that you were starting to believe him; just a little a more and you would be entirely convinced.

And it was with no effort that he stood up and guided you by the hand to another part of the garden, one you haven’t seen the last time you’ve been there.

In this place, on the other side of the bridge, the lights were softer, in something between blue and purple, hanging in specific spots, away from each other as to not disturb the moths, fireflies and other flying beings that had that corner of the garden as their home. In the middle of what seemed to be a clearing, a small fountain formed by a rounded bowl upon a column of white stone was bubbling with crystalline water; when you approached and looked into the bottom, you noticed the same purple light was present there, oscillating with the waves. Near this fountain, you found a bench under an arc covered in flowers, which white petals were turned into lilac thanks to the lights. You went there and stood in silence for a while, in respect to the living beings that were giving up their space and their privacy for you.

Even your voices were lower when you restarted the conversation. You, by the way, were just waiting for him to be the first to speak, which didn’t take long to happen.

– My nephew told me you asked his permission to leave Valhalla.

You swallowed.

– I did.

His quietness was so heavy that, for an instant, you thought he wasn’t going to reply. But when he did, it was with relief that you sensed no change in his tone.

– It’s understandable. You've been through many things these days and, right when you had the opportunity to relax, a new pressure falls on your shoulders – with his right hand, he caressed the top of your head, just like he did at the bridge – And most of this is my responsibility. I'm sorry for this.

I can’t believe he’s apologizing.

– You’re... sorry?

– I asked my brothers to stay with you until I arrived – he explained – They didn’t know you yet, so they would identify you by the hairpin I gave you. Then I’d take you for a walk to some place where we could talk in private. Once we’d return to the party, we would enjoy the other girls’ presentations and everything you’ve been preparing, until dinner’s time. Speaking of this, I asked the elves to reserve a place by my side on our table – he curled a lock of your hair with his finger – My intention was that you enjoyed the party under our protection, but things didn’t go as planned, and you were the most harmed in this.

You sensed your chest tight when you heard that. You had no doubts about Hades’ noble intentions when he made all those preparations, but maybe he hasn’t considered that the fact that you were human would automatically change your view on them: what would be a deserved honor to a goddess was just too much for you.

Still, you couldn’t let him continue to apologize for doing what he believed was right, so you did what was probably your boldest action since you came to Valhalla: you took the hand he had on your hair and held it between yours, all the three resting on your lap, your fingers groping on his skin as you observed the black of his nail polish turn into a deep violet thanks to the lights above you.

– Please, don’t apologize anymore, Hades-sama. You did nothing wrong, my Lord, and neither did your brothers. Each of them received me well and stood with me until the moment you found us, just like you requested. The issue lies in what I explained to Hermes-sama while he took me to the party: everything we’ve been experiencing in Valhalla, and how things are managed here… all of this is so distant from the life I have that it makes me feel... small.

Your fingers, tiny if compared with his, closed around his hand with a little more firmness.

– Despite everything I told you the last time we’ve been here, my Lord, this is something I cannot change about myself. I don’t want my dreams to have boundaries, but I could never ignore the fact that there are limits I must not trespass. No matter how uncomfortable my life becomes due to these limits, there’s no guarantee that what waits for me on the other side will not bring me more suffering. This is what we call knowing our place – you let out a sad smile – Maybe it sounds strange to you, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. After all, this is part of the meaning of being human.

– In fact, this is something I can’t relate to, but I’m glad you’re talking to me about it. It helped me to understand what happened – his hand moved between yours, his thumb drawing circles on your knuckles – Besides, I think it would be sad if you just left without saying goodbye to your friends or having the chance to learn more about your... about our dreams.

Your hands trembled at those words and at his touch, which was extended when his other hand joined yours.

– Speaking of this, Hermes hasn’t time to explain how it works, but even if he conceded his permission the moment you asked, you wouldn’t be able to leave until tomorrow.

You gasped with surprise.

– What?! Why...?

– Why the surprise, my girl? – the smile he gave you that time was the closest to a smirk that you’ve seen in his face until now – You didn’t think you’d get rid of us so easily, didn’t you?

You felt your cheeks getting hot.

– I...

– Y/n, there’s something about my dream that I haven’t told you yet. The reason why I know it’s connected to yours. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to do it, and I believe the moment has come.

– Really? And what is it that you need to tell me, Hades-sama?

– This: unlike you, I wasn’t alone among the ruins of Hellheim. In my wanderings, I found someone there.

– Someone? Who?

– A woman – Hades' eyes were fixed on yours – You.

Part X

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no walkure #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie hades x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie hades #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv fanfiction #snv x reader #snv hades #record of ragnarok hades x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok hades #ror hades

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roxannarambles · 10 months

Text

Title: The Bloodmoon Graves (Part 6/7)

Summary: Nemona learns about the rumors of a fabled "Bloodmoon Beast" and decides they should all go for a camping trip out in the Timeless Woods to search for it. They end up finding a bit more than they bargained for.

(See Ch 1 for tags & other info)

Chapters: Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Epilogue

The teens had definitely settled on a plan: run away. However, they did take a few extra moments to arm themselves with various bits of Arven’s cooking equipment that had been scattered in the woods. Arven also had an excellent idea for the piece of rope that had been left in his bag; he tied it to each of them to form a safety train, since it was so easy to get lost in the fog otherwise, especially while running. Arven was in front, then Penny, then Juliana, Nemona bringing up the rear, the rope hanging loosely between them.

“Everyone ready?” Arven asked, adjusting the headlamp stuck to his forehead and looking back at the group. They all nodded. The mournful cries of the wolves still echoed from somewhere unseen. Arven told them quietly,

“Okay then. Keep up, we all need to stick together. And keep an eye out for anything tricky as you move. Let’s go.”

They started walking briskly, Arven guided by his phone’s GPS, Mabosstiff walking right beside him. It seemed absurd to Juliana that since they’d all been separated, it had only been around an hour– but apparently it was true, only a bit past 3am by now, according to Arven’s phone. The fog was still as thick as ever and the air was frigid; the little light from Arven’s headlamp bounced as he walked and didn’t light up much in front of them, since the fog just reflected a lot of the glare back at them. Nevertheless, Juliana concentrated on what little they could see around them. Arven had given her a bottle of Max Repel they’d found, so she would spray the air every so often as they moved, hoping it would help. It wasn’t much, but it was worth trying, and at least it made her feel like she was doing something.

Which was definitely a comfort she needed, because it sounded like the wolves were closing in all around them. Juliana didn’t know if her ears could be trusted, though, since they’d played tricks on them before. She exchanged some nervous glances with Penny and Nemona, and Mabosstiff gave an uneasy growl.

“C’mon, keep moving, don’t pay it any attention,” Arven muttered to them, pushing them to keep up the brisk pace. Juliana squared her shoulders and did her best to do as suggested, ignoring the strange, distorted shrieks, telling herself to just keep moving, just keep moving.

A number of minutes passed and the howling around them slowly died down, until all they could hear was the crunch of their shoes through dead leaves and their nervous breaths. They seemed to be making steady progress, Arven occasionally muttering directions and words of encouragement. Juliana felt her body slowly relax a little, since it felt like their plan was working and they’d snuck by the worst of things.

None of them noticed the wolf that silently materialized from the darkness like death itself, jaws reaching for Penny, until it was practically upon her– but Mabosstiff noticed, jumping onto the larger canid with an angry snarl, pulling it back just in time. Penny shrieked in surprise and Arven turned, ordering,

“Get ‘em, boy, Crunch!”

The two dogs tussled for a minute, but Mabosstiff quickly gained the upper hand and latched onto the wolf’s neck and bit down hard. The wolf seemed to melt after the attack, its body turning back to tar and its bones crumbling away. They stared aghast for a few moments, Penny stammering,

“D-did he j-just . . .”

“It’s okay, that happened to the one I smacked too, that’s just how they faint! I think,” Nemona whispered, trying to comfort her. Looking impatient, Arven seemed about to chide them, but then he suddenly yelled,

“Mabosstiff, there!”

The pokemon leapt to intercept the second wolf that had appeared in a wisp of ghostly energy. The hefty Dark type used his greater weight as leverage, shoving the wolf down and aiming another Crunch with precision. Soon the wolf had melted down just like the first, the tar seeping back into the earth.

Purple lights flickered in the darkness around them.

Arven assessed them quickly and then shouted,

“We can’t fight them all, come on, we need to go, go!”

They broke into a run, just as several more wolves Shadow Sneaked directly into their path; Arven smacked one with the hefty frying pan he had, stunning it, and Juliana yelped, jamming down on the Repel nozzle and spraying it about wildly as they ran past.

“Hurry, this way!”

They charged up a small hill and into a stand of trees, but the wolves weren’t giving up easily– they began to fire volleys of purple bones at them, the air humming dangerously with the sound of their approach.

“Keep your heads down–”

The bones sliced into the trees around them, sending sticks and branches tumbling down on them like wooden shrapnel. Arven cried out warnings, using his pan as a shield and trying to yank them all out of the way of danger, but Juliana stumbled and slowed them down. She heard Nemona cry out her name in warning, and in the next moment, Nemona had lunged forward and smacked at a falling limb with the sauce pot she had as a weapon, like she was taking a full-powered tennis shot– it bounced the branch away enough to avoid crushing Juliana.

“C’mon, I got you, let’s go!”

She helped pull Juliana to her feet and they kept running, while the wolves continued firing shadow bones, the projectiles spinning and flashing all around. When they cleared the stand of trees, Arven turned back briefly, calling to them,

“Everyone okay? C’mon, just keep–”

“ARVEN!”

One of the shadow bones had reached the end of its path and looped back around like a boomerang, and it was now careening through the air directly for Arven’s head. He barely had the chance to even turn his head and look, eyes wide.

With a bellowing bark and a mighty leap, Mabosstiff sprang up and caught the bone mid-air, landing and crushing the shadowy bone in his jaws.

“Holy crap– Mabosstiff– good boy, good boy! I haven’t seen you do a jump like that since you were a pup!”

He pet the dog for a moment as he praised him, but there wasn’t much of a chance for them to catch their breath. Nemona warned them,

“They’re still coming, we better move!” They could see the swirl of Shadow Sneak from the nearby stand of trees, the wolves trying to catch up to them. Arven said,

“All right, let’s go! Don’t worry, we should be fine as long as we keep ahead of them!”

A flock of startled Noctowl took off as the group charged on ahead, sloshing through leaves and pinecones, stamping through the underbrush. Arven’s phone, their guiding light, led them to a lower part of the woods with fewer trees, which made running a bit easier.

“I think we lost ‘em!” Nemona eventually called from the back. Juliana glanced behind, the pokemon little more than a distant twinkle of purple behind them. She could hear them howling.

“They gave up! Good,” she said. She definitely preferred the wolves just sitting there howling instead of chasing them.

“Don’t let your guard down, there could be more,” Penny said warily.

Arven agreed,

“She’s right, keep your eyes peeled. We don’t want–GYAH!”

His sentence was cut short when Penny suddenly grabbed hold of his backpack and yanked, sending him stumbling to the ground. He apparently hadn’t noticed the strange void on the ground he had been about to step into. A wolf rose up from the hole and Penny jabbed at it with the BBQ fork she had– the wolf snarled and snapped at it, clamping down with its jaws. While Penny tried to wrest the fork free, the wolf was sufficiently distracted for Mabosstiff to easily leap in and strike, fainting the pokemon.

“Case in point. Watch the ground,” Penny said once the wolf had melted away. She prodded at the sticky ground where the void had been, but it seemed solid again.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I have to occasionally check the GPS and make sure we’re still headed the right way,” he griped, climbing back to his feet.

“I think the ones that are howling might be warning the others,” Nemona put in, looking around them cautiously.

“Oh, great,” Juliana sighed.

“Not much else we can do but keep going then, c’mon. And watch the ground for black voids!”

They kept racing through the woods, doing their best to watch out for traps while still going at a decent pace. They managed to spot several more suspicious voids in the ground and steer clear, and then the terrain began to slope upwards as they traveled.

Eventually they came to a clearing. Arven checked his GPS again.

“We should be getting close now,” Arven whispered, glancing back up and looking around carefully. It was very quiet in this part of the woods, which Juliana took as a comfort. At least, she tried to, but the silence was unnerving in its own way. It was still better than the howling, at least.

As they trudged forwards, the outline of a large body of water appeared within the fog at the center of the clearing. Arven’s expression crumpled into confusion.

“What? That shouldn’t be here. What . . .”

At first Juliana feared the worst– that the GPS was messed up or they got entirely turned around somehow– but as they came closer, she quickly realized what it was.

“No, it’s okay, Arven, that’s just one of the tar pits!”

He blinked at her,

“I’m sorry, what?”

She clarified,

“Remember, I told you I saw a wolf coming out of one earlier. I dunno where the pits came from, I know it’s weird, but, it doesn’t mean we’re lost. I think, anyway.”

He seemed to struggle with her explanation, which honesty was fair, since it’s not like a giant lake of tar suddenly appearing in the middle of the woods was a totally normal occurrence.

“Is this the same one you saw earlier then?” Nemona whispered, inching closer to gaze into the pit. Juliana squinted as she stared.

“Uh, I don’t think so? Not sure. But I think this is a different one. I dunno, I was pretty freaked out, it’s hard to remember.”

Arven was scowling down at his phone, looking a bit uncertain.

“So the pokemon are making these? How many do you think there are?” Penny whispered.

Juliana answered,

“They might be making them? Or maybe they just come from them. They do seem to be able to control the tar, though . . .”

“Maybe it’s both? This stuff’s already underground but they can make it rise to the surface or something,” Nemona speculated. Arven cut in,

“Okay well, we can play pokemon researchers later, guys, for now I wanna leave, if you don’t mind. If we’re on the right track, we just need to head this way–”

“Oh my god, wait, what is all that?” Penny interrupted him. They looked to where she pointed, out in the lake of tar. The surface of the tar was suddenly bubbling and sizzling gently, and there seemed to be lumpy shapes out there.

A lot of lumpy shapes.

“Uh– we should leave,” Juliana said quickly.

“There’s no way those are all wolves, though, right?” Penny whispered, eyes wide.

The moon had been lost behind many layers of fog for most of the night, but it now broke through enough of it to cast some of its silvery light upon the eerie lake. The tar was now bubbling aggressively and the shapes were rising higher and higher. They could see the vague outline of the skulls start to take shape within the ooze, the eye sockets dripping and emptying out.

“Oh god,” Arven breathed, backing away,

“There’s got to be like a hundred of them!”

“D-don’t worry, the one I saw took ages to escape the tar, we can just leave,” Juliana reassured him as they all backed away.

“Great, let’s just bail then,” Nemona agreed. They all turned.

Around them, purple lights flickered in the fog.

A lot of purple lights.

“Aw, fff–”

Everything happened far too fast after that. In an instant, there were several wolves on Arven, the rope that tied them all together tore and shredded, and Mabosstiff snarled in a rage, trying to wrestle the creatures off his master; three more wolves also appeared in front of Juliana, and when Nemona tried to swing at them with her sauce pot, they ganged up on her.

“Grrhh, Mabosstiff, go, help the others, go!”

Mabosstiff reluctantly followed orders, leaving Arven and charging in to assist, climbing onto one of the wolves; Penny was harassing another with her BBQ fork. Juliana only had a bottle of Max Repel and felt horrifically ill-prepared. She tried for a few seconds to douse the pokemon with the spray but it clearly wasn’t doing anything. Frustrated, she tried to think of what else she could do– a second wolf had ganged up on Mabosstiff and the two were overwhelming the dog, while Penny and Nemona struggled with the third, which was snapping at them wildly.

“Stop– STOP–”

She bopped one of the wolves over the head with the plastic bottle as hard as she could, repeatedly, until it turned and snarled at her. In a panic, she twisted the cap off the bottle with shaking fingers.

The wolf lunged at her, jaws wide. Juliana jammed the bottle directly into its mouth, shoving it down as far as she could, squeezing the bottle. The wolf made a strangled choking sound, flailing its head and stumbling away from her, mouth foaming. In the meantime, Mabosstiff had taken out one of the other wolves, unimpeded; he turned to now attack the wolf choking on the bottle of repel. Juliana turned her focus on the third wolf, which seemed to be targeting Penny, perhaps deciding somebody shorter was easier to take out.

“Leave her alone!” Nemona yelled, smacking at the wolf’s head with her pot, hard enough to daze it.

“Penny, Jules, run! I can handle it–”

Nemona screamed as a skeletal wolf from the tar pit latched onto her pants from behind her, yanking.

“NEMONA!”

She lost balance, falling backwards into the pit, and Juliana felt like her entire world was collapsing. Without a single thought, she rushed forward to the edge of the pit, dropping down to the ground and reaching out to grab onto both of Nemona’s hands. Nemona twisted in the tar and tried righting herself, Juliana yanking her along. They made it partway out of the pit before the skeletal wolf that had grabbed her re-emerged from the black, grabbing onto her again and pulling back in a high-stakes game of tug-o-war.

“Juliana!”

Penny rushed to them both, apparently having dealt with the wolf that had been targeting her. She tried swinging at the pokemon with her BBQ fork but it was too far out of reach.

“Pass it to me!” Nemona yelled. Once she had it, she used one hand to jab the fork backwards blindly at the wolf. The tongs cracked along the wolf’s nasal cavity and it shrieked but refused to release her, so she kept fighting until one of her jabs drove the fork deep into the nasal cavity, burying it up to the handle. The pokemon made a horrific noise and let go, sinking back into the bog, while Juliana and Penny pulled, trying to drag Nemona back to safety. In the middle of their efforts, Nemona’s eyes widened and she yelled,

“Behind you!”

Juliana didn’t get a chance to even turn and see– either it went after Penny or Penny led it away from them on purpose, because she was suddenly gone, leaving Juliana to pull on her own. The problem was that by now, Nemona had sunk up to her waist, and the tar seemed to almost have a will of its own, gripping Nemona stubbornly as Juliana tugged. Nemona battled fiercely to escape and sometimes they managed to lift her high enough that she almost got a leg free, but she kept slipping back in and reversing their progress.

Despite that, Nemona still shouted with certainty, “You almost got it, Jules, you can do it!”

From the edges of her vision, Juliana saw flickers of light. She glanced up to see the other skeletons in the pit were edging closer and closer to them, slogging through the tar slowly but surely. Her voice choked in despair, Juliana yelled,

“N-nemona!”

Nemona glanced back briefly to see and then turned back, saying,

“Don’t worry about them, just pull, we can do it!”

Juliana dug in her heels and pulled, feeling her arms and legs ache with the effort. The air around them began to grow foul, smoke billowing from the jaws of the skeletal wolves as they crept closer and closer.

Juliana coughed and coughed, but she kept pulling.

The eyes of the wolves grew brighter and brighter. Juliana closed her eyes just in time; she could see the intense flashing even behind her eyelids, but remained safe from the Confuse Rays. Her heart pounded and it was hard to breathe, but she kept pulling.

And even as the world around them swam in the howls of the damned, Juliana continued pulling with all her might, ignoring everything else, everything except the tenuous grasp she had on her most precious treasure, even as she felt her body weaken and her head grow faint.

Juliana pulled.

And then, all at once, the tar released its bitter hold.

Juliana toppled backwards onto the ground, Nemona careening forward and landing on top of her.

Juliana finally opened her eyes and saw an amber gaze looking back at her, eyes wide.

She heard Arven’s voice,

“Oh jeez, are you guys okay? God, they just kept coming and coming.”

Juliana turned her head a bit to see Arven, battered, bleeding and exhausted, but still okay and in one piece. Mabosstiff was beside him, looking even worse for wear, clearly having battled far too many opponents, but he hadn’t quite fainted.

Penny’s voice answered from somewhere nearby,

“Y-yeah, I’m okay. Juliana, Nemona, are you okay?”

Nemona pushed up off the ground and helped pull Juliana back to her feet, which was good, because Juliana’s legs still felt far too rubbery and weak from all that pulling.

Juliana felt shaky and bruised and sticky and lightheaded, but she didn’t care about any of that, because Nemona hadn’t been swallowed by the black, she was here, she was safe.

“You saved me,” Nemona said to her, but not in a tone of surprise– rather, in a voice overflowing with pride and elation. Without hesitation, she pulled Juliana close and kissed her, fueled by adrenaline and relief.

Arven squawked,

“Guys, now’s not the time!”

Juliana didn’t register Arven’s complaint at first, too distracted by the euphoria and her girlfriend kissing her like she was her oxygen– but when Arven yelled again they stopped and tried to pull away. They realized the tar had stuck them together a bit.

“Oh my god you guys, seriously . . .”

“What?? It’s not our fault, it’s the tar!”

Arven came over to help pry them apart, cursing under his breath, but fortunately it didn’t take long to unstick from Nemona.

“They’re getting close,” Penny called anxiously. Juliana turned to see many of the skeletal wolves had reached the shore by now and were attempting to climb out. She knew firsthand that they wouldn’t be getting out quickly, but it was still much too close for comfort. Juliana said,

“Okay, let’s get going while we still have a head start!”

They started to run again, Arven leading them on a path back through the trees.

However, they were all pretty worn down by this point. That final confrontation at the lake of tar wrenched most of the remaining energy out of the group and they hadn’t had the chance to even catch their breath. Juliana knew the constant running wasn’t sustainable; they already were going at half their usual pace, most of them limping and winded.

What was worse was when Arven pulled his phone out to check it again, he cursed.

Nemona quickly asked,

“What? What is it?”

He frantically wiped at the phone with one of his sleeves.

“One of those brutes must have barfed their gross tar crap on my phone while they were attacking me. Ugh!”

He wiped layers of the gluey muck off, but most of the screen was still smudged beyond recognition.

“What do we do?”

“It . . . it’s okay, I think I know where we are by now. We should be close, just follow me.”

They continued on, hoping Arven’s innate sense of direction would be enough, but it made Juliana very nervous, especially when Arven kept hesitating. Just when she had convinced herself they would drain the last of their energy running in circles, Arven spoke up again, and it was like music to her ears.

“Oh, yeah, okay, we’re close! This is right, just a little longer!”

“How close?” Penny wheezed, looking a little pale by now.

“Not sure exactly, uh, maybe less than a quarter mile?”

“That doesn’t help, how far is that?”

“It, uh, I dunno, like two minutes or something!”

“I hope you’re right, ‘cause I’m starting to see spots again,” Nemona said, hands on her knees as she panted for air.

“Yeah, just a little further, I promise!”

They continued to run, until Arven cried out,

“Yeah, yeah! See over there? Just past that hill, we’re camped behind there!”

“We made it!” Nemona managed to exclaim. They all ran just a little bit faster, spurred on by the thought of their nightmare finally coming to an end. As they approached the hill, Juliana noticed a strange light at the very top of it. Thankfully it wasn’t purple, so it obviously wasn’t one of the wolves– it was a red light. Juliana thought of the Duskull family for a moment, but the light seemed too big to belong to them.

“Hey, what is that?” Penny asked, noticing it too. The rest of them looked up as they jogged towards the hill.

As they drew nearer, it soon became obvious what it was.

The red light was big and round and it shone a brilliant scarlet. They could see a hulking figure in the fog, the red light sitting dead-center on the creature’s forehead.

The pokemon at the top of the hill turned, facing their direction; a smaller, green light glinted down at them, like a single eye that was adapted for the night.

The three teens and Mabosstiff stopped at the foot of the hill, staring, completely dumbfounded. Nemona gasped,

“The Bloodmoon Beast!”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Arven muttered.

“I-it’s real? No shot,” Penny sputtered, her eyes wide. Arven turned to them and whispered,

“Shh, quick, maybe it hasn’t noticed–”

But the green light trembled and they watched the shadowy shape on the hill change posture, dropping down on all fours. There was a rumbling growl.

The growl was much, much deeper than the wolves, and it echoed throughout the valley.

“Ohhhkay, nevermind, we’re screwed,” Arven murmured softly. Mabosstiff whimpered, obviously not feeling up to facing another battle, let alone with something like that. Penny whispered,

“Can’t we just go around?”

“Well, we can try.”

However, when they turned, the sight that met them sent Juliana’s heart sinking into her stomach. Purple lights, flickering in the fog. There were dozens and dozens and dozens of them, maybe a hundred, encircling their location from all around. Penny rasped,

“Wh-what?! How? How did they catch up so soon?”

The wolves were advancing on them slowly. Juliana turned and looked to the others; Penny looked terrified, Arven’s expression was bleak, Mabosstiff was cowering. Even Nemona looked entirely at a loss. The Beast growled again, lurking closer to them. They were completely pinned, surrounded on all sides by harbingers of grisly death.

The light cast by the Beast’s forehead bathed the valley in red, casting the creeping wolves in an infernal light.

And then, the Beast jumped, releasing a deafening roar. Juliana saw it fly over them, landing just in front of the group of huddled humans. But its focus didn’t seem to be them; instead, it was glaring out at the creatures that surrounded them.

It charged at the wolves in a sudden lurch, grabbing the nearest one in its jaws and shaking it like a ragdoll, the bones flying apart in all directions. The Beast swung a paw and sent two more wolves flying with a mighty swipe. Some of the wolves shrieked angrily and barked, Shadow Sneaking forward and advancing on the Beast.

The Beast stood up on two legs, pointing its muzzle skyward and roaring, its forehead glowing brightly.

Then it looked down at the wolves and unleashed an incredible blast of energy from its forehead, something so powerful that Juliana felt the shockwave punch her right in the chest. It looked to her like a Hyper Beam but even more unhinged, the blood-red beam of light sweeping across the ground as the Beast moved its head, vaporizing everything it touched, even scorching the earth itself.

Juliana felt a chill to her very core witnessing it, and when she could tear her eyes away, she turned to Nemona. Nemona had her hands balled into fists, her eyes sparkling bright.

“I knew it,” she whispered, unable to disguise her glee.

“I knew it was real!”

Her eyes met with Juliana and they shared a giddy smile, giggling together.

Arven and Penny weren’t quite as thrilled at witnessing the power of the Bloodmoon Beast so up-close and personal, at least not under their current circumstances. Arven stammered,

“O-okay, you guys were right, now let’s make sure we’re gone before– hey, what’re you doing?!”

Nemona had nabbed his phone and was pointing it at the pokemon wreaking havoc on the wolf horde.

“Just a quick picture, we’re gonna want to remember this later, right?”

She managed to quick-launch the camera feature and snapped the shutter a bunch of times before Arven swiped the phone back.

“We’re gonna want to live to remember this! Come on, let’s get out of here already!”

They climbed the hill and rushed back to camp, leaving the Bloodmoon Beast behind to face the horrors that lurked in the night.

#pokemon #pokemon s/v #pokemon scarlet/violet #the teal mask #julinemo #terajules #juliana #nemona #arven #penny #kitakami #julinemo fanfic

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everlarkficquestions · 2 years

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Sunday Stumped Day 39

It’s another Sunday Stumped Day!

Sometimes we straight out get stumped. So every few months we will pick a Sunday when we’ll post of a list of asks that we need your help on.

If you know the answer to any of these asks please shoot us a message/ ask/ with the Post number and the fic details and we’ll add it and give you a shout out with our thanks. Any links you can provide will also be super helpful.

Thanks!

Post 1 , Post 2 , Post 3, Post 4, Post 5, Post 6, Post 7, Post 8, Post 9, Post 10, Post 11, Post 12, Post 13, Post 14, Post 15, Post 16, Post 17, Post 18, Post 19, Post 20, Post 21, Post 22 , Post 23, Post 24, Post 25, Post 26, Post 27, Post 28, Post 29 , Post 30, Post 31, Post 32, Post 33, Post 34, Post 35, Post 36, Post 37, and Post 38 can be found here - and there are still fics we need your help with.

651. mmmmmyelle asked:

hii, happy new year, I love your blog 💝 if you could help me, im looking for a story, i remember a lot of details. in it katnisss was originally from another district but moved to 12 in high school, she was a delinquent and got arrested a couple times, she and peeta went on a date and ended up spending the night in the woods (in a cave) during a storm (I think someone was harassing them/her), katniss got her bangs cut after tangling them on the cell bars while in jail, she and peeta end up pregnant, while pregnant she gets mad at him for not being present when he's actually planning a proposal for her. this is all I can remember about the story, they were of course ooc but it was set in panem, no games. THANK YOU SO MUCH

652. rucasspobyeverlarktrash asked:

hello!!I don’t remember much about this story other than the fact peeta’s mom gets REALLY mad at him and ends up locking him in the basement of the bakery for some time, and I think he ends up eating flour?? anyways I don’t remember much more than that but hopefully it’s enough 🥴

653. broken-everlark asked:

Hi! I can't remember what fic it was but it has a few chapters in it all I can remember is when peeta joins the star squad and both gale & katniss kinda treat him as if he's a mutt, gale more than katniss but she is distant. I think it's in peetas point of view or maybe katniss' I can't remember 😅 sorry. Love the page!❤💙

654. yoaticas asked:

Hi! I’ve been trying to find a fic for AGES but haven’t been able to and was hoping you could help.It was an Everlark fic on ao3 with them about to become mentors. Snow told Katniss she would be forced to prostitution, but I don’t think she’d told Peeta yet. There was a scene where Katniss remembered thinking Finnick was a playboy because in every interview there was always a woman on his arm, but she was now realizing they were using him. I think the plot was going to be them getting out of it? I also remember there being a scene where Katniss, Peeta, and prim where walking down a road together but that’s it. I had just started it so I have very little info. I checked the master list, but couldn’t find it. Any help would be so appreciated, thank you!

655. wecouldhavehadjainainthesequels asked:

Hey! Not sure if this fic description is too vague but I thought I'd try. It's a canon compliant fic where they are either engaged or get married, but Peeta thought that the whole thing was fake on Katniss's side even through the war. When he returns to 12, Haymitch tells him that Katniss does love him and tells Peeta that Haymitch found Katniss sleeping in Peeta's bed and clothes left in the house? Would love to find it again!

656. mlsan73 asked:

I am looking for a fanfic wherein Katniss and Peeta had a secret wedding and she was really pregnant in Catching Fire. The things i remember was that when Peeta was rescued, he thought the pregnancy was fake and that was when Katniss gave birth to a girl (i am not really sure). Peeta is still kinda hostile to Katniss but he is very loving to the baby. Thank you in advanced.

657. craftydiva0828 asked:

I'm searching for a fic where Katniss is from a hunting clan and Peeta is from a farming clan (they live in a valley?) and they have to ban together to fight Snow who is taking over their lands. Peeta's tribe have horses which Katniss admires. Any ideas? Thanks!

658. lex-ray24 asked:

Prob a long shot but i can't find it. Does anyone know of the fic that mrs. everdeen gives katniss sleep syrup to help her sleep but then she can't wake up from her night mare so mrs. everdeen has to get peeta to wake katniss up?

FOUND! This happens in chapter 7 of I'll Be Right Beside You by theatricalveggie. (Thank you, @sunsetsrmydreams!)

659. justaskingaficquestion asked:

Do you know of the fic where Katniss and Peeta (it's a modern au) are watching either football or soccer and everytime someone scores they have sex?

FOUND! Three and Out by hutchabelle (Thank you, @endlessnightlock for finding it and @katnissdoesnotfollowback for leading us on the right track!)

660. withbeautyandrage asked:

hey! i remember this fic i read a long while back- post mj and katniss was in a depressive episode on proms b day, and she can hear her daughter calling for her as peeta tells her that katniss isn’t feeling well.

661. weepingmilkshakesandwich asked:

Any fics where P and K are training in district 13 together, and they're wrestling as part of the training and there's a lot of tension? And I think Johanna or one of the Leegs comments on it

FOUND! This happens in chapter 6 of Random Reality Shifts by wakebytheriver (Thank you, @sunsetsrmydreams!)

662. kohakuchan94 asked:

I'm looking for a fic I haven't read in a while. I remember it taking place at a sports meet where both Peeta & Katniss are athletes. I remember Peeta being a wrestler? They are in a "secret" relationship that eventually goes public. They were from different schools... That's all I can remember.

FOUND! The Lies That Bind Us by katnissdoesnotfollowback (Thank you, @bellairestrella and @katnissdoesnotfollowback!)

663. mariba2000 asked:

Hello!! There's this fanfiction where the 75th hunger games happens except Haymitch goes in it. This fic was much darker than in canon. Johanna had a son in the Capitol and Haymitch loses a finger in the Quell. I think it was on ao3. Another thing that I remember is that Katniss was pregnant in it, because her and Peeta already fell in love before. Help me find it, please!

664. everlurked asked:

I had read a fic : peeta breaks down after returning earlier to District 12 post rebellion. Katniss takes care of him. Gale comes to district 12 with family to take her back with him. She refuses to go with him

Do any of these fics ring a bell? Please let us know!

#ssd 39 #sunday stumped day

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smalltownfae · 1 year

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Mid-Year Book Freakout 2023

I was tagged by @logarithmicpanda Thank you :D I love tags.

1. Best book you’ve read so far this year

Shadows Return by Lynn Flewelling. If series don’t count then As Meat Loves Salt by Maria McCann. Both really messed up books haha what a year. I also read the complete Maus this year, which also deserves a mention.

2. Best sequel you’ve read so far this year

Shadows Return is the fourth book in the Nightrunner series so... that.

3. New release you haven’t read yet

In the Lives of Puppets by T.J. Klune and The Whispering Muse by Laura Purcell.

4. Most anticipated release for the second half of the year

The Water Outlaws by S.L. Huang sounds so good and I want to love it so bad! I hope it’s good. Please, I need it to be good.

Then: Family Lore by Elizabeth Acevedo; The Fragile Threads of Power by V.E. Schwab; Mammoths at the Gates by Nghi Vo and Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree.

5. Biggest disappointment

The White Road by Lynn Flewelling, 5th Nightrunner book, and it pains me to say this. Live footage of me at this book:

6. Biggest surprise

The Nightrunner series in general (?) I mean I am reading them all this year for a reason haha (currently on the last book in the series but I still have the prequel trilogy to read after). I cannot believe I tried Luck in the Shadows some years ago and gave up on it. To be fair, I didn’t get far into it and the start is meandering and has a lot of info dumps. Got into it when I finished chapter 8 and the second book was really great and emotional. It gave me that bi representation I wanted without it being the sole focus of the fantasy story. That was just all I’ve been asking for. Fantasy with casual queerness that doesn’t take over the plot.

7. Favorite new author (debut or new to you)

I guess Lynn Flewelling, but I wouldn’t call her a favourite author. For starters I only read one book series by her yet. Still, the authors I put on my favourites usually have a more beautiful writing style. Not sure if I will put her in my favourites when I finish it all, but I guess she is the best I read this year because Nightrunner has been bringing me so much joy (and anger at times too).

8. Newest fictional crush/newest favorite character

Favourite character: Alec í Amasa. But also Seregil, Thero and Ilar. All from the Nightrunner series, of course. It almost looks like I have only been reading these books haha and that isn’t entirely wrong... it’s like 40% of what I read so far was Nightrunner books.

9. Book that made you cry

Don’t hate me, but... Stalking Darkness, 2nd book in the Nightrunner series. It was just nice to see a bi awakening on page done so well or at least done in a sort of relatable way to me and then there is the suicidal thoughts and the second half of the book was quite impactful.

As Meat Loves Salt also made me tear up at the end but it was tears of anger so... not sure if it counts.

10. Book that made you happy

Just assume I’m gonna say Nightrunner books again. If we take those away and put them in the corner then Legends & Lattes by Travis Baldree. It is a really cozy and sweet book, but also fun.

Tagging: @whatevsbla @monpetitrenard @xserpx @beeblackburn (only if you want to do it)

#mid year book freak out tag #book tags #my answers are all nightrunners and as meat loves salt and I apologize

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choicesficwriterscreations · 2 years

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CFWC Writer of the Month: liaromancewriter

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @liaromancewriter ! We hope you will enjoy learning more about her and her work below! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr blog: liaromancewriter Tumblr Masterlist Maxenna Masterlist

Tumblr Blog:

How do you want to be known on Tumblr?

Lia or Mal. Both are my nicknames in real life, depending on who’s calling, so I respond to either.

1- When did you start playing Choices? What's the first book you played?

I first downloaded Choices in August 2020 after being bombarded with its ads on another game. I figured I'll try it and see what it was about. My average track record for mobile games is 2-3 months, and then I get bored and delete the app. That didn't happen here because I quickly realized it's not a game but a library of fiction books in all genres. Two and a half years later, I'm still here reading Choices.

The first book I played (read?) was The Royal Romance. I believe it pre-loaded when I opened the app the first time. I fell in love with the Prince (who I named Aiden as it's my favorite boy name) from the first moment. To this day, I think the first two TRR books are the most romantic stories on Choices.

Incidentally, I started playing Open Heart at the same time, but mostly to earn diamonds for TRR since medical stories weren’t really my thing (that’s changed now obviously). But Ethan Ramsey was equally irresistible and I had a hard time saving my diamonds when romancing the two.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I didn't know there was something called a Choices fandom, so it's very happenstance. Unofficially, I joined in November 2020 as a silent reader and didn't have a Tumblr account. Officially, I created my Tumblr account on December 7 and started becoming more active in January 2021.

I had just finished Open Heart: Second Year and then Platinum (for the fourth time), and was feeling adrift. I was obsessed with Raleigh Carrera and googled him out of curiosity to see what might be out there. I came across fics posted on AO3 and then Tumblr.

Then, I googled Ethan Ramsey as I was missing OH and just wanted to get lost in that world again. I came across a plethora of fanfics, mostly on Tumblr. I originally started reading them on my mobile browser and still have masterlist pages bookmarked (in order) on Safari for @lem-20 (the first OH writer I read and followed because her pfp match my book sprite), @jamespotterthefirst and @starrystarrytrouble.

I didn't know fanfiction was a thing, so I was a bit baffled by all of it initially. The more I read, the more I loved the interpretations others were bringing to the story. I was also generally impressed by writers unafraid to write and post their work for the world to read, and that inspired me to want to publish my original stories online.

3- How did you pick your url name?

My original intent with Tumblr was to publish my original romantic fiction novel, Happy Ever After. And, maybe in the future write and post more original romance short stories as an exercise to rediscover my fiction voice.

When I was creating the account, I blanked on what to call it. In a burst of "just pick a username already", I named my blog liaromancewriter to represent my nickname (Lia) and the type of stories I would be posting (romance).

By the way, my desired account name initially was hopelessromantic, but it was taken. When I was setting up the blog headline and description, I decided to go with The Hopeful Romantic because the phrasing best embodied my perspective of soulmates and happy ever afters.

4- Go back to your archive and tell us about the first post on your Choices blog.

My first Choices fandom post was a reblog game response on January 11. All posts on my blog before that were chapters of Happy Ever After.

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

I published my first ever fanfic, First Impressions, on February 15, 2021. So, about 22 months.

6- What is your favorite Choices book to write about?

I only write for Open Heart, so I would say it remains my favorite as I keep coming up with stories for this extended universe I’ve created for my pairings.

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it or would you change anything about it?

The first fic I submitted to CFWC was Me Before You on April 5, 2021. I think I’d only heard about this blog in March of that year and didn’t know that anyone could submit.

It’s very much an introspective piece, showing Ethan’s inner thoughts, and Cassie's too. I love writing descriptive stories about what people are thinking and feeling. It’s when my writing is the strongest.

I still like that story. Having said that, the middle of this fic drags a little, so I’d probably want to tighten that up. I also hadn't fully developed my headcanon for their relationship yet. Anyone who reads my work knows that it's like a TV series where everything is connected, and the plot continues along a specific timeline, even if one-shots are posted at different times of the year.

So the timeline inside the story doesn't quite sync up perfectly with the rest, but I've learnt to let it go....somewhat. 😂

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Can I pick two? I’m picking two, one for each of my pairings. At this stage, they’re both equal OTPs anyway.

Ethan & Cassie: Come Undone

Max & Sienna: Unforgettable

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but could use a little more love?

I know that notes aren't everything since there are many silent readers out there. But it's the only metric Tumblr allows writers to use. So, this answer is solely based on that.

It’s not a fic, but a series. The original Maxenna series, Then There Was You, was incredibly popular both in terms of notes and comments and in attracting new readers despite the fact that I wrote it after the series had already ended, and it was a side character (Sienna) and an OC (Max). I’m forever grateful because it’s an original story in every sense of the word, with some nods/references to canon. Despite the fact that it’s Sienna, she’s an OC, too, since we don’t know too much about her in canon.

For the second part of this question, I thought Seeing Red would have been more popular. It's angsty, and has Ethan’s relationship with Louise, Cassie and Ethan fighting (somewhat). So, it was surprising it didn't get as many notes. But then, I also wrote it in 2022, and the fandom isn't what it used to be. So that could be one reason.

10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Fluff...absolutely 100% fluff. Anyone who knows me for five seconds knows that I'm all about finding and keeping your soulmate. Real life is hard, the fictional world doesn't have to be.

I grew up reading fairytales and love Hallmark movies. When I discovered romance books in uni, I fell in love with the journey of two people falling in love and finding their happy ever after. I also enjoy writing about relationships; while there are angsty moments in those, it's the resolution of finding your way to the light that makes me happy. Happy Endings Guaranteed is my motto.

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

I bring parts of myself to all my characters. In real life, I'm more like Ethan and Max; the professional and personal elements in their personalities are based on me and my experiences.

Cassie's ambition and determination to prove herself are pure me. That's why even in canon, I never gave a thought to why a Junior Fellow was qualified to head the Diagnostics Team. I was running my own department by the time I was 30. It's all about seizing opportunities even if you don't think you're ready. You learn on the job and eventually make it your own.

One other observation is that I’m a champion researcher and accuracy is important to me. So, when I write I bring that accuracy and plausability to all scenarios. My Google history will attest to that. 😝

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

I struggle with writing common, every day body gestures without repeating myself. I can visualize the scene in my head like someone wrapping their arms around the other or framing their lover’s face between their hands. But I don’t always know how to write it well or at least have more diversity in the words/expressions that I use.

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

No. I don't do WIPs. Sometimes I'm not happy with a fic, so I'll write the first draft but not publish it for a while. I'll do/write other things and then come back to start editing the fic until it works. Candy Thieves and Postcard Memories are two good examples of that.

I do have a document with about 20+ possible story ideas, but some of those are random thoughts that might or might not have a story in them.

14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

Absolutely! I mostly share my Wattpad account with them rather than Tumblr as the former can be easier to navigate for novice readers. But my close friends have my Tumblr blog link.

I always ask them to read Happy Ever After (original work) first since it’s mine and doesn’t require knowledge of canon. But for fanfiction, I tell people to start at the top of my masterlist and work their way down. This way, they’ll get to meet my characters from the beginning and go on the journey with them, even if they’ve never read canon.

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing?

I’m mostly influenced by published authors with Nora Roberts, Jayne Ann Krentz and Julie Garwood leading the pack. I love how Nora does scene setting and descriptions, and shows relationships between people (romantic and platonic); my approach to storytelling is largely influenced by her.

Jayne Ann Krentz does a great job of writing spunky heroines who aren’t afraid to take chances, no matter if it’s a modern setting, paranormal or historical. While Julie Garwood’s novels are fluffy with wonderfully memorable characters especially the LI. Aiden Madison remains my perfect guy to this day and I wish he was real. 🥰

I do want to give a shoutout to @jamespotterthefirst whose edits and text fics showed me that there’s another interesting way to tell a story than writing prose. I live in hope she will finish her First Year Pictagram series (hint, hint, Bree 😉)

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Maxenna’s original series would make a great Hallmark movie/series. As a student of Hallmark’s formula, I think it has all the elements including a slow burn, delayed first kiss, love declaration closer to the end, swoonworthy proposal and wedding, and of course family.

17- Do you write original stories?

Absolutely, but maybe not as much recently (unless you count Maxenna). I’ve already talked about Happy Ever After here. I have 2 other completed manuscripts that I hope to do something with one day.

18 - What other hobbies do you have?

I don’t have a ton of free time, so what I do have is reserved for reading books (my first love). Other than that, I watch a lot of cooking shows on Food Network. At the end of a long and busy day, there’s something very soothing about watching other people cook/work.

19 - What’s your favorite emoji?

😂

#choices fic writers creations #writer of the month #cfwc writer of the month #liaromancewriter #open heart choices #open heart

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