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choicesficwriterscreations · 24 days

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April OC of the Month: Olivia Hadley

Please welcome April 2024's MC of the Month! Each month, we highlight one MC or OC on our Meet My MC / OC List. They are selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

This month’s OC of the month is…

@storyofmychoices's Olivia Hadley!

More below...

In your own words, tell us what you like most about your MC / OC.

Olivia is literally sunshine. She is the most genuine and empathetic person. She constantly looks for ways to help others and make life better for those who are not as fortunate as she is. She always tries to make everyone she meets (especially children) feel special and heard/appreciated. It doesn’t matter if she knows them or not. She looks out for everyone. She is just a good person with the most beautiful heart and soul. She is so precious to me. In an ideal world, there would be a lot more Olivia’s to help us all feel special.

Do you feel your MC / OC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

I do think Olivia and I have a lot in common. While I wish I could be as kind and empathetic as Olivia, I am still human, and I make mistakes. I try really hard to live by the principles of “leave the world a little better than you found it” (even if it’s just putting away a grocery cart someone left or picking up one piece of trash in a parking lot) and “be kind whenever possible; it is always possible” (this one is a little harder, but I try every single day to show kindness to everyone, even when I cannot show it to myself). I feel those principles also represent Olivia, she’s just better at it than me.

I also think we have similar occupations. We both wanted to be veterinarians and then learned we’d have to put animals down. Then we both switched to Pediatric Medicine. Olivia stuck with it. I decided to be a teacher because Pediatricians need to know how to deliver babies, and that’s a hard pass for me. Childbirth might be a miracle, but it’s disgusting (IMHO) lol. But we both work closely with children and try to make a positive impact on their lives. We both do whatever we can to create a safe place where children can tell us stuff they don’t know if they can share with their parents yet (questioning their sexual identity or gender). I’ve been very lucky to help several transgender elementary students feel more confident and accepted as well as work with parents to help them help their child. I’ve also worked with students with abusive home lives or their families can’t afford basic needs so I’ve gone out of my way to try to help them through anonymous donations and gift cards through the school. Anything I can do to ease even one struggle, I will do it and I think that is very much the person Olivia is. Olivia will always look out for anyone in her life.

As for differences, Olivia is a little more confident than I am. I drink far more coffee than she does. We both love plants, but she keeps them alive better than I do. I try, but I don’t always succeed, though a cactus I got as a gift from a student 3 years ago just bloomed for the first time this month, so I’m super excited for that. Maybe Olivia is finally rubbing off?

What is most important to your MC / OC? What is their motivation in life?

Olivia’s motivation is truly to make the world a better place. She knows that it’s not always easy, and there are so many struggles and so many hardships. She really wants to make a difference in the lives of those closest to her as well as in the community she serves. She knows she can’t conquer world hunger or global peace, but if she can make a difference to people around her then maybe those people can help some others and things would ripple out from there.

After she has children, her motivation splits. She’ll never stop caring about those around her or the patients she sees, but her children are her first priority.

What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes?

Olivia doesn’t like gossip. She doesn’t like when people talk about others behind their back in a negative way. It makes her feel uncomfortable. She doesn’t like passive aggressive responses to situations. She genuinely believes that people are good, and if we all just try to have a little more empathy and understanding, the world would be a better place.

She doesn't like rudeness, pettiness, or dishonesty.

Olivia prefers order and organization, so she dislikes chaos and messy places.

If your MC / OC could change one thing - anything - what would it be?

If Olivia could change anything, she’d find a cure for childhood cancer. She takes each case to heart and watching children struggle is something that is very hard for her. She would never trade her time at Edenbrook for anything, and she feels guilty for even thinking it, but she is grateful when she opens her own practice that most of her cases become regular checkups and normal/everyday illnesses.

What is your MC / OC’s favorite quote or song?

“My favorite things in life don't cost any money. It's really clear that the most precious resource we all have is time." — Steve Jobs

“You are the sum total of everything you’ve ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot - it’s all there. Everything influences each of us, and because of that, I try to make sure that my experiences are positive.” ― Maya Angelou

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." —Antoine de Saint-Exupery

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow." — Mary Anne Radmacher

“Even miracles take a little time.” — Fairy GodMother (Cinderella)

“Happily ever after is about finding happiness within yourself and holding on to it through any storm that comes your way." —Chris Colfer

Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC / OC? (It can be why you created them, how they’ve inspired you, or you could write a little blurb as if it is coming from your OC - an acceptance speech. :) )

Ahhh what else to say about my precious Olivia?! She truly brings me so much joy.

If you’ve been in this fandom long enough, you’ll remember I was an Ethan romancer when OH first released. I enjoyed Ethan/MC’s dynamic. They totally reminded me of Thomas Hunt x MC. However, just before the pandemic, I wrote Bryce, thinking it was a one off thing, but as the world started to shut down, things got darker and scarier, Bryce Lahela’s sunshine and encouragement was something that resonated with me. I tried to make Olivia fit in the role of MC, but I just didn’t like the setup of MC with Bryce. So I made Olivia an original character. Taking her out of that MC role gave me so much more freedom with her and so much more freedom for telling her and Bryce’s story. I loved being able to see where each story would take them. I’m eternally grateful to Olivia (and Bryce) for helping me get through the Covid Pandemic. Having her and Bryce and their friends and family helped me have something positive and hope-filled to hold onto.

Olivia is actually really competitive. You might not see it or notice it at first, but if you’ve ever been a part of any competition with her, you’ll see she will not hold back.

Olivia has a black belt in taekwondo, even though she never talks about it. She got it in High School. She wanted to do something to challenge herself and she wasn’t participating in any team sports, though she did try to get a pingpong team started in her school but it never took off.

Olivia volunteered with Habitat for Humanity for a summer in the Dominican Republic.

Olivia has Scottish roots and has always dreamed of going to Scotland. She hasn’t gotten there yet, but one day!

Olivia is almost as lucky to have such good friends in Casey and Merida as I am to have @jerzwriter and @lilyoffandoms in my life. I can’t even begin to express how special they are to me and how I treasure their friendship.

Thank you to everyone who has ever supported Olivia. She is truly a special character who is so close to my heart. The fact that she is truly an original character and you still adore her means so much to me. I can’t say thank you enough. The amount of serotonin I get from writing and sharing her with you should be illegal, and then when anyone interacts, my heart explodes with unicorns and rainbows and all the sunshine. I’m eternally grateful for the support of Olivia, Bryce, and their little world. Thank you!!!

#choices fic writers creations #cfwc oc of the month #open heart #open heart choices #choices open heart #meet my oc #olivia hadley #storyofmychoices #playchoices #choices #choices stories you play #playchoices fanfic #choices fanfic #open heart fanfic

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jerzwriter · 5 days

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A Novel Concept

Ethan Ramsey is in the dog house. It's apparently clear, and his buddy, Tobias, comes in with an assist. But will his advice help or hurt Ethan's chances of getting back in Kaycee's good graces?

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan (F!MC) Characters: Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen Words: 1,778

A/N: Thank you, Nonny, for this ask from the @choicesaprilchallenge24 prompt “A picnic?! Have you swallowed a romance novel?”" It went a little longer than a drabble, I hope you don't mind! (Didn't have much time to edit... so hope it's all good!)

My Masterlist

The tension in the Diagnostic Team Office was almost palpable. So palpable that Harper retreated to her office nearly an hour before. But Tobias was braver than that – or just stupid; the jury was still out.

He remained behind, his eyes darting up from his laptop every time Ethan mumbled under his breath or Kaycee let out an exaggerated sigh. Both of them assumed Tobias was doing research on their recently admitted patient, blissfully unaware of the missive he was typing, all about professionalism in the workplace and why it’s ill-advised to date your colleagues. He’d shoot that to them in an e-mail once he was sure they were in better moods. But the truth was, Tobias Carrick was nosy and was not about to leave before he got the tea. And there had to be tea!

Tobias was in on the secret, but to most, Ethan and Kaycee were the worst-kept secret in Edenbrook. On a typical day, they were all heart eyes and butterflies, but today, they barely acknowledged each other during their morning meeting, and that hadn’t changed since its end. Even Kaycee incessantly tapping her pen against the conference table hadn’t earned any commentary from the stone-faced Dr. Ramsey. Not a single sarcastic comment, endearing remark, or complaint fell from his lips.

Kaycee was the one to finally break the standoff. Standing up with a huff, she pointedly looked at Tobias and announced she was going to make her rounds. With a side-eyed glance at Ethan, she slunk out the door without another word. Tobias waited patiently for his friend to open up... but that never occurred. If the man retained water as much as he did his emotions, he’d be their next patient, not to mention a sideshow act: Edenbrook’s human blowfish! Tobias laughed at the image in his mind, finally requiring his friend to acknowledge his presence.

“Care to share what’s so amusing?” He said after clearing his throat. “Did you finally figure out the knock-knock joke Dr. Lewis told at the conference two weeks ago, or are you imagining what your latest conquest’s reaction will be when she figures out how old you really are?”

Tobias pushed back from the table with a raised brow, “Really? Do you want to go there, Ramsey? Because according to my calculations, Kaycee is about three years younger than my latest... has she figured it out yet?”

Mouth agape, Ethan was eager to change the course of the conversation. “So... what were you laughing at.”

“I was imagining you as a human blowfish.”

“You know what... remind me to never ask you what’s on your mind again. It’s too dark and scary in there.”

“As if you could resist!” Tobias laughed. “But I want to know what’s on your mind. What’s with you and my buddy MacKlennan? You could cut the tension in here with a knife this morning.”

“Nothing is going on,” Ethan said, offering no genuine attempt at being convincing.

“You’re a shitty liar, Ramsey. What did you do?”

Ethan finally looked up from his notebook. “Why do you automatically assume I’m the one to blame?”

“Because you usually are,” Tobias smirked. “Now, what’s going on?”

Ethan took off his glasses, placing them on the table with a sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Kaycee is mad at me because I forgot our six-month anniversary.”

“Man,” Tobias chuckled, “You suck.”

“That’s not the worst part. See, I didn’t forget. But it happened to coincide with me coming off my second double in three days. I was so tired. I truly thought it was still a day away.”

“But that’s understandable, and Kaycee is reasonable. Why would she be so upset with you over that?”

“Probably because I followed up with ‘who celebrates six-month anniversaries anyway? High school students and people who are certain they’ll never hit the year mark.”

“Really?” Tobias glared. “All these years, and still none of my charm and charisma has rubbed off on you? What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t!” Ethan protested. “I was exhausted and cranky.”

“YOU?” Tobias teased.

“I’ve apologized a half-dozen times, but she still barely speaks to me.”

“Well, in fairness, she’s worked a lot this week, too. I doubt either of you are your best selves right now.”

“Thank you, Mother Oprah. Now, do you have any wisdom to help me repair this situation?”

“As a matter of fact, I do, wiseass... but keep talking like that, and you can add me to the list of people barely speaking to you.”

“All right,” Ethan surrendered. “I’ll be nice...how do I fix this?”

“A sincere apology, not the half-assed shit I’m sure you’ve mustered so far... and then you’re going to have to go all out to celebrate your anniversary.”

“I’ve already made reservations at Mistral. I just don’t think she’ll want to join me at this point.”

Tobias waved a dismissive hand. “Anyone can make reservations at Mistral. You need to do something better than that,” he snapped his fingers as an idea came to mind. “A picnic! Show up at her place with a picnic basket filled with her favorite treats, then take her to a pretty, secluded spot... for a small fee, I can share some of my favorite places... you may even have to pick wildflowers for her, buddy.”

“A picnic?” Ethan sneered. “Have you swallowed a romance novel?”

“Fine!” Tobias said, shutting his laptop and rising to his feet. “If you don’t want my advice, figure it out on your own.”

“Wait, wait...” Ethan softened. “I’m sorry, did I mention the sleep deprivation?”

“You did... but face it, we all know you’re still an ass when fully rested.”

“A picnic?” Ethan asked, ignoring him. “Do you really think she’d like that?”

“Chicks, dig that shit,” Tobias insisted, pulling a pen from his lab coat to jot some notes. “Here... these are some very romantic spots within driving distance, and the name of a little gourmet deli in Cambridge that will make a great lunch and pair it with the perfect wine... I can write some of my go-to lines when I need to get out of the dog house if you like?”

“No... no... I’m good. If I’m honest, I don’t think you’ve had a relationship that lasted more than three months in the past decade, so I may need a different approach.”

“Yeah, but that’s not because they didn’t want them to last longer... I think you’re missing out.”

The sound of footsteps approaching caused the men’s heads to turn toward the door, where they saw Kaycee coming down the hall.

“Shh!” Tobias ordered. “She’s back! Here’s your chance.... turn on the charm, bro. I know you’ve got it in you.”

Oblivious to Tobias, Kaycee walked up to Ethan with a look of contrition. “Ethan, we have to talk.”

“No,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I have to talk. I am so sorry for being a jerk. It’s not an excuse, but I’ve been tired and more of a curmudgeon than usual. But of course our six-month anniversary is something to be celebrated. I hope you know how much each day I’m with you means to me, and I hope you’ll let me make it up to you.”

Kaycee let out a breath, and her lips twisted into a tender smile. “I mean, I kind of like the fact that you’re a curmudgeon... just not when it’s aimed directly at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, brushing a tendril away from her face. “If you’ll forgive me, I will make it up to you.”

“Oh, will you?” she simpered. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well,” Ethan glanced at silent Tobias, who gave him the thumbs up. “I know this quiet little spot on Spectacle Island. I thought we could go there for a picnic. I’ll get your favorite wine, some baguettes, a nice brie... chocolates for after. Maybe we can pick some flowers before, you know...”

“Really?” she asked, “That’s what you want to do? A picnic?”

“Why? Don’t you like the idea?”

“I do,” Kaycee insisted. “It’s just... it doesn’t sound like you. Did you swallow a romance novel or something?”

Ethan's eyes shoot to Tobias, who bursted into laughter.

“Tobias?” Kaycee said, finally noticing he was in the room.

“I’m sorry! I’m leaving,” he grinned. “But you two need to work whatever you’ve got going on, and do it now... because, I swear, you two... you’re perfect for each other.

Ethan smiled proudly and wrapped an arm around Kaycee’s shoulder as Tobias slunk out of the room. “He’s right, you know... we are.”

“He is,” she blushed. “But be honest... the picnic... that was his idea, not yours. Right?”

“What? Don’t you think I’m capable of planning a romantic date for you?”

“Of course you are! And you have, but did you come up with this idea?”

Ethan leaned back against his desk with a sigh, pulling Kaycee against him. “How did you know?”

“Hon, do you have any idea how many people he’s brought to Spectacle Island? The stories in the hospital are legendary.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously! Nurses...doctors... the new PT assistant in pediatrics.... the communications director....”

“All right,” Ethan laughed. “I get it... so that means we won’t be making a spectacle of ourselves on Spectacle Island?”

“Well, it’s not that I’m opposed – but we can do it our way, not Tobias’s.”

“Then what do you say we go with the evening I had planned for us?”

“Oh?” She asked curiosity piqued. “And what did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking we could get all dressed up,” he said, placing a kiss behind her ear.

“Mmm... go on.”

“Dinner at Mistral?” he offered, brushing her hair away from her neck as his lips traced her newly exposed skin. “Maybe a little dancing after... so I can show you off?”

“Mmmhh,” she sighed. “And then?”

“Then we go back to my place... and we get to take off all those fancy clothes...”

Kaycee pulled back with a playful smile. “To do what, exactly, Dr. Ramsey?”

“Things that will make you forget you were ever mad at me?” he winked.

“Now... how can I resist that. When will you be picking me up?”

“Saturday? Six o’clock?”

“It’s a date,” she beamed. “And Ethan?”

“Yes?”

“You’re pretty good at this romance thing all on your own.”

“Shhh,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t let that get out. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I get it,” she said, stepping away and straightening her clothes. She was at the door when she turned with a smile. “We can’t have anyone thinking you swallowed a romance novel.”

~~~~~

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesaprilchallenge24 @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#choices fanfic #open heart #open heart fanfic #chocies open heart #open heart choices #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x f!mc #tobias carrick #playchoices fanfic #choices stories you play #choices #playchoices

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february2024choiceschallenge · 3 months

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Choices February Challenge 2024 Prompts

WELCOME || RULES || MASTERLIST

Each link will take you to a prompt list for one of the seven types of love. Please feel free to utilize the photos, words, or prompts on each one for your creation - but you are not limited to them! Any creation that fits the topic will be accepted in this month's challenge.

Eros (Passionate love) prompt list Philia (Friend love) prompt list Storge (Family love) prompt list Agape (Altruistic love) prompt list Ludus (Flirtatious love) prompt list Pragma (Practical love) prompt list Philautia (Self love) prompt list

and finally...

Love Stinks! prompt list

If you have any questions, please send an ask or DM @jerzwriter.

Thank you and happy creating!

#choices fanfic #choices fanart #choices stories you play #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanart #playchoices #choices monthly challenge #choices february challenge

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aria-ashryver · 5 months

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I Cannot Bear To Hold You With These Unworthy Hands

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow

Pairing: Aerin x m!human!MC (Dorian Silvertongue)

Words: 2.4K

Summary: After the night they spent together, Aerin weighs his troubled thoughts, trying to muster the strength to leave the bed, leave the tent, leave Dorian behind.

(or; Aerin writes his stupid little letter)

Ratings/Warnings: Teen - brief allusions to the fact that Aerin and MC have just slept together; brief mention that Baldur was abusive; brief mention of self-inflicted injury

A/N: A little ✨Aerin angst✨, as a treat! I haven't written for him (or Blades) before, so I'd love to know what folks think of the style and characterisation! Also, if you enjoy atmosphere (and being in pain), this piece was written to Adam Skorupa and Krzysztof Wierzynkiewicz's A Nearly Peaceful Place

@choicesficwriterscreations

Aerin was a smart man. He knew that. Prided himself on it, in fact. He’d always been quick-witted, clever, his rigorous education obvious to anyone he spoke to. There wasn’t a puzzle he’d ever come up against that he couldn’t unravel with ease.

Until Dorian.

The celebrations in Riverbend had continued well into the night; beyond the confines their tent, Aerin could still hear the light refrain of a flute, the slow, poignant swell of a fiddle, as a pair of minstrels played their longing to skies littered with stars. It wasn’t so loud that he couldn’t sleep through it; beside him, curved protectively around him, Dorian’s breath had evened out into the slow rhythm of true sleep.

Aerin felt him sigh against his skin. His body was warm with rest and the lingering heat of their lovemaking. Not for the first time, Aerin marvelled at how utterly, hopelessly stuck he was.

Not in the least because, even asleep as he was, Dorian didn’t seem as though he would deign to let him go any time soon. The man had a build borne of long years of physical labour and swordsmanship; those iron-banded arms hugged Aerin firmly against his chest, one arm looping around his waist, the other curving around his shoulders. He held him so sweetly, so securely, that it seemed that Aerin’s half-baked escape plan would fall apart at the first hurdle — namely, ever getting out of this blasted bed.

An alarmingly vocal part of him hoped that that would be the end of it.

Because that was the other thing that gave him pause. Try as he might, Aerin simply couldn’t make up his mind.

He should go.

Right?

Right. He should go.

Leaving the party, leaving Dorian —a gasp hooked in Aerin’s lungs— it was the right thing to do.

A breeze shook the walls of the tent, the burnt gold silks cracking and shuddering in the wind. How much nicer it would be, to just stay in the bed.

It was warm, inside. Next to Dorian. Everything was soft linen sheets and warm wood, the tent’s furnishings humble and plain, but comfortable. The candles burned low at the small table where they’d sat together and shared a cup of wine earlier that evening.

They’d talked for an hour or two after slipping away from Riverbend’s quaint little festival —Dorian had laughed at his own jokes, as he was wont to do, and he’d grinned at Aerin’s acerbic wit in a way that had his stomach tripping over itself— and then Dorian had kissed him like there was nothing and no one else in the world at all.

Like the answer to every question he’d ever had was as simple as that.

How easy it would be to pretend. To stay here, his head nestled on his lover’s chest, listening to the slow rise and fall of his breathing. How easy, to forget the outside world existed.

Aerin’s mouth twisted in a bitter smile. It was exactly the sort of irony he ought to have expected, he thought. All his life, he’d been trapped. Trapped by Baldur’s abuses; trapped by the minutiae of courtly decorum; trapped in a role wherein no one would ever see him as a person, merely an idea, a ghost of a farce of a mockery of what they all thought a “Prince” ought to be.

Then, when the abuses had worn him down to nothing, and he’d thought to seize some measure of independence for himself… It had been mistake after catastrophe after vainglorious disaster that had won him nothing but regret and a year-long stay in a cold cell.

Now that he finally, finally had the freedom to make decisions for himself, now that he had a chance to atone and do some good with his wretched excuse for a life, well.

How ironic that that very freedom was little but another cage.

Self-loathing was a demon that pressed him bodily into the sheets, turned the warmth around him hotter by degrees until it was suffocating.

Doing right by Dorian meant being worthy of him. And being worthy of him meant he’d have to shatter the nascent trust growing between them. He’d have to betray Dorian, again, after all the kindness he’d shown him.

They had been three days out from Riverbend when the party had set camp one night, and a whip-thin fox had darted across the edge of the clearing. It was clearly wild, its hackles raised in gnawing hunger and fear, but Dorian had simply grinned and hunkered down with a strip of dried meat in his hand.

It had taken him most of the evening, but eventually Aerin had returned from gathering kindling with Mal to find the creature eating the meat right out of his outstretched fingers. Another half-hour of gentle coaxing and it had chirruped and curled up right in Dorian’s lap.

Mal had rolled his eyes, shaking his head as if he found the whole thing laughable. Expected, even. As though he knew how little chance anything —anyone— had of resisting Dorian’s charm.

As Aerin had stroked disbelieving fingers through the creature’s flame-red pelt, he’d finally understood that the gut-deep pull he’d been feeling since their first kiss by the lake was some combination of a deep, pervasive sadness… and a potent yearning.

An unabating ache.

Teeth, and claws, and snarling wildness; none of it seemed to bother Dorian. A deep-rooted instinct to lash out in self-defence, stemming from a life of fear and pain, it was simply no match for his easy smiles and slow coaxing. Once Dorian Silvertongue set his sights on something —on someone— they were all but his. Aerin yearned for Dorian to tame him, as patiently and painlessly as he had the fox.

When they’d packed up camp the following morning, the fox was gone, but the feeling lingered.

And when they’d happened upon a particularly tricky patch of forest trail not long after they’d left the clearing, Aerin hadn’t been able to resist taking Dorian’s outstretched hand.

For a fleeting moment, Aerin let himself imagine he could stay.

That the pair of them weren’t tangled up in a mess of his own making; that the hand Dorian had held so gently wasn’t covered in blood he couldn’t wash clean.

That maybe they’d lace their fingers through one another’s to stroll along the piers of Port Parnassus, taking in the markets and the brisk night air. That they could be just a pair of travellers, unremarkable, unburdened save for the kiss of salt upon their skin as ocean mist sprayed up from the docks.

Laughter on their lips as an unexpected swell left them drenched.

Perhaps he’d get the chance to get back at Dorian for those godsawful sausages he’d had them all eat at the festival tonight — they could taste the fare from various street vendors, feed each other unfamiliar fruits and spiced wine of dubious vintage.

…He’d buy Dorian a handcrafted ring to replace the one he still wore on a chain around his neck. One that wasn’t a mark of Whitetower, of the Valleros family, but just him.

Just Aerin.

An honest gift from one beating heart to another, both of whom had known far too much pain and burden. A mark of a new beginning.

Dorian’s skin was hot beneath Aerin’s cheek; stifling a gasp, Aerin pulled back, blotting away the few errant tears that had begun to pool on his chest.

He stared long and hard at Dorian’s sleeping face. The way his hair fell in his eyes. The bruised shadows beneath them. The rasp of stubble at Dorian’s jaw that even now he could feel burning against the delicate skin of his thighs, his neck.

Dorian’s shifted slightly in his sleep, his fingers spasming on Aerin’s skin, clutching at him in a way that had a flurry of butterflies alighting in his stomach.

Frozen, Aerin caught his lip between his teeth, scared to move.

Hoping Dorian wouldn’t wake.

Praying he would.

It would be selfish of him to stay, he should go. He was a smart man; he knew he should do what needed to be done. It was the right thing to do.

Never mind that even thinking of walking away from the one good thing he’d ever had in his accursed life felt akin to shoving a knife into his own chest.

He’d done that, once.

The Nerada stone hadn’t wanted to budge, the rituals he’d undertaken to free himself of Shadow corruption were long, and laboured, and exhaustingly brutal, but he’d taken that pain as penance.

Somehow, it hurt less than the thought of Dorian waking to find that Aerin had betrayed him yet again.

Sand hurtled through the hourglass as Aerin let his looming choices fall by the wayside.

He knew he was running out of time.

But right now, all he wanted to do was memorise exactly how it felt to be held.

It was with a slow reluctance that Aerin drew his unworthy hands away from the only person he’d ever loved. Easing out of Dorian’s grasp, he slipped from the bed. Located his smallclothes in the jumbled pile of leather and linens and weaponry on the floor. Pulled those on. His trousers and boots, those too.

The heat of Dorian’s skin still warmed his palms; an echo that he knew would fade all too soon. He tugged his tunic on over his head, hopeful the clinking music of buckles and straps might rouse him from his slumber, dreading whatever excuse he’d make if it did.

Aerin knew Dorian hadn’t been sleeping well since his escape from the Ash Empire. Most nights he’d wake with a scream catching in his throat, a skittering panic in his eyes that Aerin knew well himself. More cruel then, that the fates would have him sleeping so peacefully tonight, the marks Aerin had left on his throat a brand, a traitor’s kiss, a ghost edge of a knife wound.

Aerin finished dressing.

Dorian slept.

He crossed to the nightstand, poured himself a glass of water from the decanter. Tried to swallow past the tightness in his throat.

Still, Dorian slept.

Would he think of him, Aerin wondered? Would Dorian ache for him the next time he bedded down alone?

…would he even be alone?

Aerin clamped his jaw shut against a swell of sudden nausea. He knew Dorian was open with his affections, and he’d thought he didn’t begrudge him that —what he shared with Mal was strictly physical, at least on Dorian’s part, though his blossoming relationship with Nia hadn’t survived their confrontation with the Dreadlord— but for a moment, bitter, ugly jealousy made him feel ill.

Would this second betrayal be enough to carve Aerin’s name out of his heart for good? Push him back into Nia’s arms?

Aerin swallowed.

Perhaps it was better that Dorian hate him. He didn’t deserve his kindness, much less his love. Not after everything he’d done.

Dorian was a blazing comet streaking through the night sky; Aerin the empty void he lit with his passing. He didn’t regret the night they’d shared together; far from it, he couldn’t remember ever being happier. Just this once, Aerin had longed to blaze up alongside him, lost in his fire, in his light.

Just this once, he’d wanted to cling to him as he burned.

It had been better than anything he’d ever dreamed.

Aerin set the glass down, his hands shaking around the decanter as he poured himself a second glass of water.

Of course he had to leave. How could he kid himself that he could have a place amongst the great heroes of Morella? Him — a hero? Who was he trying to fool?

Jaw clenching, Aerin took a seat at the table, drawing some papers and ink from his satchel. He laid them out with slow precision, hating himself, hating the world, hating everything he had to do.

Behind him, Dorian gasped in his sleep; it was an agonised shock of sound that cut Aerin to the quick. He leapt to his feet, crossing the tent to perch on the bedside as Dorian jolted himself awake.

‘P-please!’ Dorian gasped. ‘Don’t. Don’t!’

‘It’s alright,’ Aerin said.

One of Aerin’s hands came up to cradle Dorian’s face; the other rubbed soothing circles against his chest. Dorian’s hand flew up to clutch at his wrist.

‘Aerin?’

‘I’m here, it’s okay,’ Aerin murmured. His heart clenched painfully as Dorian’s sleep-addled gaze locked onto his and immediately grew less panicked. ‘You’re safe, Dorian. I’m right beside you.’

Almost before he’d finished speaking, Dorian’s eyes drifted closed — but not before he’d slid his hand higher to lace their fingers together where Aerin’s hand still cradled his face.

It was almost too much.

It would be so easy to sink back into that bed, sink back into a sense of belonging he didn’t deserve.

Aerin sucked a strained breath against the tightness in his lungs, gently extricating himself from Dorian’s grasp. He didn’t know if it was some ill-begotten vestige of Shadow, lingering in his chest even now, or if breathing was simply beyond him where Dorian was concerned.

Every time they met each other’s eyes, the air in Aerin’s lungs turned to pitch.

Perhaps… he could stay? Dorian’s love would alight him, and the pitch in his lungs would blaze and burn, every breath between their kisses turned golden and glowing with light and fire.

Perhaps he should leave.

Let it cool and harden. Let his lungs solidify. Let him never draw a joyous breath again.

He should leave.

He sat at the table, his pen poised above the crisp parchment. He stayed frozen in place for so long the ink dripped from the nib, pooling into a dense, black blot on the page. It soaked into the paper, the sight eerily reminiscent of tendrils of shadow bleeding into smooth, pale skin.

Aerin choked down the tears, the bile threatening to rise, and scribbled down the only useless words he could muster.

Dear Dorian,

I apologize for leaving so abruptly, especially without saying goodbye...

...what a Gods-forsaken joke.

Drying his eyes, Aerin stole one last look, not knowing if he would ever see Dorian again. He wanted to kiss him goodbye. Wanted it so desperately it burned. He wanted Dorian’s eyes to flutter open at the first touch of his lips; for his hand to snap out one more time to clutch at Aerin’s own; for him to whisper please.

Please, Aerin. Don’t go. Stay with me.

Dropping the folded parchment on the table, his fingers trembling, Aerin turned to leave, knowing he was a jester, he was a fool, he was the realm’s most miserable joke.

#blades of light and shadow #bolas 2 #aerin valleros #aerin x mc #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #cfwc lgbtqia+#🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈

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starlight-starfury · 4 months

Text

Under Starlit Boughs

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow

Characters: (F!Elf!MC) Raine Nightbloom x Tyril Starfury

Rating: General

Warnings: None, but I’ll warn you it’s unapologetically sappy 😅

Length: 2k

Summary: After talking about the old parties of legend, the Fae realise they finally have cause to throw one of their own.

Tags: @liviusofpella @watatsumi-island @inlocusmads @lilyoffandoms @brycesgirl @sophie-summer @lancelotsimp @megas-choices @princess-geek @julia-highstorms @citrusdarling @mavidraws @lover-also-fighter-also @otakudreamer @stars-are-within-me @mari-lwyd-fannibal-blog @camillyohfreire @mindlesschicca @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @choicesficwriterscreations (tagging everyone who interacted with this post, if anyone wants to be added to the tag-list permanently please let me know! I’ll be making a post about it in a few days as well 💜)

A/N: Because we deserved a cute Whimsywood date 🫶

A song of laughter echoed in the air as everyone sat crowded together under the shade of the pearl petal tree, telling stories and sharing fruits that tasted of sweet mallow and fine dew.

Even the forest seemed to find wonder in the joyous occasion as the trees sent forth a gentle breeze, causing the flowering boughs above to sway and the soft petals to cascade down around the storytellers like light rainfall.

As the Fae reminisced over tales passed down from their ancestors about the Light realm, questions began to arise, and Tyril spoke. “Stories of your parties have become legend in our world. What were they really like?”

“That was long before I sprouted,” the Fae Elder answered, silent throughout the conversation but now smiling fondly at the memory. “But I heard the tales from my elders. They spoke of intricate fashion, delectable foods and wine that tasted of Light.”

“You mean to say, you’ve never thrown one yourselves?” Raine asked.

Willow shook their head. “Very few of us remain, and we’ve no cause to celebrate of late. Not with Shadow lurking so close.”

“Of course you do!” She said. “You’ve been trapped in the shadow realm for centuries, isn’t returning to your homeland worth celebrating?”

The Fae whispered and hummed amongst themselves for a moment, their murmurs like the faint rustling of leaves amid the forest undergrowth before they leapt to their feet enthusiastically.

“Raine is right!” Willow declared, beaming. “Let us all rejoice. To returning to the realm of Light, and to honour our new friends who will help ward our forest from the Shadow!”

The glade seemed to thrum with excitement as everyone stood and the Fae began making their preparations. Raine made her way over to Tyril, who had leant against one of the ancient trees and was gazing around at the magical clearing, awestruck.

“I see some things never change,” she grinned. “I’m glad you finally got to meet the Fae, Tyril.”

A smile touched his lips as she reached his side. “I suppose I have you to thank for that.”

He nodded back to the forest, where multicoloured orbs of light drifted through the air like fireflies. “It’s incredible that a place so vibrant and full of life can exist in a world such as this.”

Raine looked towards the enchanted scenery, admiring how the trees seemed to bend and dip their branches in greeting to the Fae as they walked past, and how the glowing flowers bloomed in clusters like starlit nebulae below. It made her mind drift back to the Deadwood, the decayed forest merely remnants of a distant memory compared to the magical sight before her.

“Well,” she said at last, “if all this travelling has taught me anything, it’s that beauty often thrives in chaos.”

Tyril’s eyes softened as his gaze shifted to her new attire. She looked like a forest nymph or woodland goddess in the sylvan dress, woven of emerald silk and flowing gossamer that shimmered like dappled sunlight alongside the entwined branches climbing across her fair skin. A crown of leaves was nestled in her hair, and her eyes shone violet as the wisteria blossoms above.

“It does, indeed.” His smile was tender as he reached up to gently cup her cheek and she swayed into his touch, his words a faint whisper against her skin. “Even the stars envy the brightness at which you shine.”

His sentiments were proven true as she beamed under his praise, but before she could answer him the Fae returned to the clearing all at once, and the moment was disturbed like ripples spreading across the surface of a tranquil pond.

“Come, come!” Willow beckoned, and the group reconvened beneath the pearl petal tree once more.

Raine noticed some of the Fae were holding instruments, elegant wooden flutes with budding sprouts that appeared to have been carved from the branches of a fallen tree.

“Is this one of your traditions?” She asked.

“Yes!” Tansy clapped. “The Fae Circle is one of our oldest celebrations, with much music and dancing!”

“Hang on, a Fae Circle?” Mal said before turning to the rest of the group, voice hushed. “Are you sure this isn’t just a trick to keep us here forever?”

“Mal!” Nia scolded. “Don’t be rude!”

“What, haven’t you heard the legends? Mortals who entered a Fae circle were never seen again.”

Imtura followed his gaze pointedly towards where a series of petrified faces were engraved in the bark of a large tree. “…Those aren’t just carvings, are they?”

Willow’s large eyes saddened, a swirling mist shimmering within the dark pupils. “They came to harm our forest, but the trees are our home and family. They would have plucked us from the soil one by one and uprooted everything!”

Raine leant in to whisper to Tyril. “Is all of this true?”

He nodded slowly. “I’ve said before that the Fae are made of magic down to their very essence. That power can become wild and unrestrained if provoked, and it sounds as though they’ve been a target in the shadow realm for some time.”

The nearby Fae’s ears began to droop as Willow continued speaking. “We try to strengthen our roots and bloom despite our hardships, but the trees cast a heavy shadow, and our numbers grow smaller still.”

Raine frowned. “You won’t have to worry about that in the Light realm, we’ll make sure no one harms your forest.”

Willow’s eyes brightened once more at her encouragement. “We cannot thank you enough! Please understand, the Fae Circle is an act of joy and all will be safe. And since you have come to help us, the forest will always remember you as friends.”

Tansy nodded. “The trees also like it when we play music to them, their boughs are always lighter and their leaves shine bright.”

“How does the Fae Circle start?” Tyril asked, and those holding instruments sat themselves upon the grass, lifting their flutes as they began playing a delicate yet jubilant tune.

“Everyone must stand in a circle around the tree and hold hands!” Willow said cheerfully, and Raine smiled as Tyril entwined his fingers with hers.

The rest of the Fae were the ones who began leading the dance, and the others quickly picked up the unfamiliar steps. It wasn’t long before everyone found themselves spinning and twirling around the pearl petal tree in unison.

Laughter filled the air once more, and the sweet petals drifted down around them as though joining in the dance as well until everyone was rosy-cheeked and breathless.

The celebration carried on through brief respites, sharing refreshing drinks between dances and telling stories both old and new. For once, both the realms were united in their joy, and together they could help the Fae create a brighter future for their people, and for each other.

When all the air had escaped her lungs, Raine wandered towards the edge of the glade to catch her breath. It wasn’t long until Tyril found his way to her side, and together they both sat down on a fallen, moss-covered log.

She looked up to where the branches of the great trees parted to reveal the vast night sky, an expanse of darkness that seemed impenetrable by even the brightest light, unusually empty and bare.

“There are no stars here,” she murmured. Without them, the sky felt hollow, like a canvas lying blank. No famed hero’s legacies lied etched across the surface, no constellations adorned the sky shimmering with stories still untold, no glimmer of hope was to be found in the endless dark that stretched on eternal.

“Then we make our own.” Tyril said, before he cupped his hands and little motes of starlight drifted from his fingers into the air. The colourful specks hovered there for a moment, emitting a soft glow that pulsed in unison with the rhythm of their beating hearts before rising up to settle themselves among the lush branches.

“They’re beautiful.” She smiled and they both sat quietly for a moment, feeling more at ease in a realm full of chaos and uncertainty while in each other’s presence, watching as the lights twinkled softly above.

“Do you find it strange? Seeing a sky without them?” Raine asked.

He nodded slowly. “In Undermount we revere the stars, our very existence is mirrored in their being. The history of our people is written among them, with each great victory and tragedy carved into the constellations like a woven tapestry to display all we have been through, and all that is to come.”

Tyril lifted his gaze past the tree branches. “To imagine a place without their existence feels…wrong.”

She looked down, subconsciously beginning to rub her wrist. The skin where her bindings had been was red and raw, another reminder that she had allowed herself to be captured, that she had been weak.

A frown creased his expression as he glanced at her hands, but his voice was gentle when he spoke. “None of us blame you for what happened.”

“And what if I blame myself?” She whispered, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Everyone went through so much because of me, especially you…”

Raine trailed off as he slowly lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to the inside of her wrist, each brush of his lips lighter than a butterfly’s wings.

She dipped her head as her cheeks flushed light pink, warming under his gaze before he pulled her into his arms and she leant her head to rest against his shoulder.

He murmured into her hair. “I couldn’t protect you last time and I…I blamed myself every day you were gone because of it.”

“Tyril…” she frowned. “None of that was your fault.”

“I know, but that does not change the fact that I failed you.” His eyes filled with sorrow as he traced a finger along her jaw, tilting her chin to look at him. “Every day my heart ached for your return. To see you again, even if you were but a fragment of a dream…”

She let the tears fall as she pressed her lips softly to his, overcome by emotion as she ran her fingers through his raven hair, longer than she remembered. His kiss held all his heartache and remorse from that painful year before he leant back, resting his forehead against her own.

They stayed that way until a softer tune began to play from the more lively part of the forest, and Raine threaded her fingers through his. “May I?”

“Always,” he smiled as she led him to his feet, the two of them alone in their own section of the woods. “Do you remember the first time we did this?”

“Danced?” She asked, and a pleasant night breeze surrounded them as Tyril guided her into position. “You mean at the masquerade?”

He nodded. “Sometimes that feels like a lifetime ago, as though everything has changed since then.”

“And yet, nothing at all.” She said, her voice quiet and tinged with sorrow.

His gaze was far away for a moment before he looked back towards her once more. “Never mind that now, all that matters is having you back in my arms.”

“And there's no place I'd rather be,” she smiled.

He spun her into a graceful twirl before pulling her back in close, and they swayed together gently as the song slowly faded into the next.

They danced until Raine found herself backed against one of the grand oak trees, and when she looked up she could still see the little stars Tyril had summoned earlier hovering among the branches, some of them twinkling as though they were shooting across the sky.

“I like having our own little universe,” she said, and the bark was rough against her fingertips as he leaned in for a kiss once again, like a blazing star that would sooner collapse than part from her touch.

“The night sky is ours,” he assured, and the rest of the forest seemed to melt away under his embrace, until it was just the two of them dancing beneath their stars above.

#may i provide some fluff in these trying times (ch18 aftermath)#choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #blades of light and shadow #tyril starfury #tyril x mc #raine nightbloom #tyril x raine #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #choices stories you play

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angelasscribbles · 1 month

Text

Savage Love Chapter 37: Gone

Series: Savage Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: R

Warnings: Mature themes, violence, guns

Word Count: 987

A/N: Wow, I can't believe it's been five months since I posted an update for this! I've known since before I started writing it back in December 2021 how it's going to end. This is the downside of having so many ideas.... I can't work on all of them at once.

That said, this is a bit shorter than my regular chapters, but I just needed to see what Drake was doing while Riley was in Hidar in her quest to take down the Via Imperii and Leo was in Rivala getting the shock of his life. The next chapter will bring everyone back together again in Cordonia.

A/N2: I realize it's been a while and readers may be confused with all the OC's in this chapter, so here's a rundown. Nick is Riley's ex-fiance and also another GIA agent. Frederico Sanchez is Nick's informant. Saguaro Laurent is the head of The Gladius Company. Lorenzo is not in this chapter but is mentioned as a loan shark to whom Tariq owed money and who, on Saguaro's orders, leveraged Tariq's gambling debt to get him to abduct Riley (Tariq failed and was murdered for his failure, Lorenzo is in custody at the palace). Rico Mendez is the son of a former mafia don who wants revenge for Riley using him to take down his father's organization.

My other stuff: Master List.

Series Premise: Agent Riley Brooks is undercover on assignment in New York when she has a one-night stand with a handsome, mysterious stranger. Both of them hiding their true identities, names are not exchanged. After one scorching night, they part ways, both returning to the duties they have pledged their lives to. Fast forward several months later and Agent Brooks is assigned a new case: investigate and infiltrate any Via Imperi influences in the small, Mediterranean country of Cordonia. Her cover? Posing as a suitor competing for the hand of the crown prince. Her way in? Civilian contractor and cyber security expert Maxwell Beaumont.

Drake…..

Nick and I arrived at the warehouse where we were meeting his contact in the Liberation Core. The one that had gotten me a meeting with the head of the Gladius Company.

The air in the dimly lit warehouse was thick with tension as we made our way through the maze of crates toward their rendezvous point. The echo of our footsteps ricocheted off the walls, adding to the sense of foreboding that permeated the atmosphere.

Nick's informant, a wiry man named Frederico Sanchez, stood waiting nervously near the entrance. His eyes darted back and forth, scanning for any signs of danger. As we approached, Sanchez straightened up and extended a shaky hand.

"Drake," Sanchez said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Nice to finally meet you. Nick here has told me a lot about you."

I nodded curtly, assessing Sanchez's demeanor. I could see the fear etched into the man's face, evidence of the high stakes involved in the mission. Time was of the essence; we needed to infiltrate The Gladius Company as quickly as possible.

"Likewise," I replied as I returned the man’s handshake. “Now let’s go over the plan before we meet with your guy.”

Being on the same page was crucial. If any of these guys got a whiff that this was a setup, we were both dead. Nick would stay in the surveillance van, ready as backup if necessary. He couldn’t be seen by Saguaro or any of the men he’d brought with him from New York. They’d recognize the GIA agent that had brought down their last organization in an instant.

We poured over the plan twenty times, looking for inconsistencies, committing our cover story to memory, and working out the kinks. When it was time to go, I waved goodbye to Nick and got in a nondescript sedan with Sanchez. A quick check-in with headquarters told me that they had picked up Lorenzo’s contact, but he wasn’t talking.

With any luck, we wouldn’t need him to. I was hoping to set eyes on Rico when I met with Saguaro. If he was there, I was giving the order to breach. I knew what Nick’s objective was, but I didn’t give two shits about arresting Saguaro Laurent. It was Rico I was after. The man that had sent a kidnapper, albeit a bad one, after the woman I love.

The American justice system had failed and released a known mobster, allowing him to slip through their security net. But he wasn’t in America anymore. He was on my turf, and I had a literal license to kill.

Rico Mendez would spend the rest of his life in a Cordonian prison, or he would die, and it didn’t matter much to me which one it was. All I cared about was getting him off the streets and keeping Riley safe.

We arrived at the rendezvous spot, but nothing went according to plan.

I found myself in another damn warehouse. This one was on the waterfront and, if our intel was correct, not far from the empty factory that was serving as headquarters for The Gladius Company.

We arrived first and waited. Saguaro and his men were late, which only served to ramp up the already rapidly percolating anxiety in the man at my side.

Sanchez was too damn twitchy. Saguaro picked up on it instantly. He barely glanced at me before fixing Sanchez with a piercing stare. “What’s the problem, Freddy?”

“What?” Sanchez tried to laugh it off. “Nothing. What do you mean?”

Saguaro’s flinty eyes squinted at him, then flicked to me as his hand went to his waist. I had my gun in my hand before he could pull his. “Don’t do it! I really don’t want to shoot anyone today, but I will if I have to. What’s the problem?”

Saguaro moved his hand away from his piece and put his arms in the air. A flash of metal in my periphery caught my attention. “Get down!” I hit the ground just a shot rang out. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go down.

Men scattered everywhere. We were outnumbered, but not for long. I could hear Nick in my earpiece giving the order to breach. Sanchez was hit. I drug him with me out of the line of fire, ducking behind a stack of metal barrels as the rat-a-tat-tat of machine gun fire spattered all around us.

“Hey, Laurent!” I craned my neck to peek around the barricade.

The only answer I got was more gunfire. I retreated back behind the stack of barrels for safety as my team poured into the building.

Now they were outnumbered, and the warehouse was surrounded. Less than fifteen minutes later, Saguaro and his men were cuffed and being loaded into the back of several guard-issue SUVs.

“Johnson, hold up!” I jogged quickly across the asphalt to intercept the lieutenant escorting the head of Gladius Company to one of the waiting vehicles. I grabbed him by his shirt and shoved him roughly up against the car. “Where’s Mendez? Was he with you?”

“Fuck you!” He lurched forward in an attempt to headbutt me, but this wasn’t my first rodeo. I snapped my head sideways, causing him to stumble forward.

I grabbed his shoulders to steady him, then brought my knee up hard into his gut. “I look forward to interrogating you, asshole.”

I beelined for the tactical van. Bursting into the mobile command center, I demanded, “Did we get Mendez?”

“Sorry, man, no,” Nick shook his head. “No sign of him. But the good news is, we got Saguaro and his second in command. There’s a second team sweeping their headquarters now. We successfully took The Gladius Company down!”

He was far too jubilant for what I considered a botched mission. I slammed out of the van with a huff. Goddamn it!

Rico was in the wind.

#savage love #agent riley brooks #captain drake walker #prince liam rys #trr fanfic #trr au #angelasscribbles #trr poly #the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #trr #choices #liam rys #drake walker #choices fanfiction #playchoices fanfic #choices stories you play #drake walker x mc #liam rys x mc

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malthemagnifisent · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Aerin x Male!elf Mc (Cyrus)

Summary: Things have settled down after the defeat of the Ash Empire. Cyrus is happy; Aerin is happy; things are good, but perhaps they could be better. Aerin had given Cyrus a ring once before, but that one was never on his finger, and the prince felt it was high time he put one there too.

Warnings: Kind of 18+, but only sort of. Nothing really happens, just some making out and suggestiveness that then fades to black at the end.

Tags: @oh-so-youre-a-nerd @baldwinboy5ive @lilyoffandoms @guinevre @renninflight @vicissavior (I’m just tagging the same people as last time, I am too tired to edit it and I assumed you would all enjoy anyway!)

Things with Aerin had grown peaceful. The world didn’t seem like it was out to get them anymore; they’d been living at ease for long enough now that Cyrus didn’t always have his guard up and that he no longer moved for a weapon at the most mundane of sounds.

Aerin was still cautious in some of the palace rooms; he had too many bad memories connected to them to ever feel truly safe in them, but even that had gotten better than it was, and Cyrus was proud of Aerin. It hadn’t been easy to overcome, but he was far stronger than he gave himself credit for.

It had been a rather long day for the both of them. There had been an urgent meeting in the palace, and both of them had been in attendance. It had only just ended, and Cyrus had chosen to immediately head up to their bedroom. He went alone at first, but Aeein followed soon after and stepped into the bedroom to find Cyrus half way out of his clothes with a bath prepared in the suite.

“The council still refuses to listen to me,” Aerin said, glancing Cyrus up and down, his annoyance faltering as his eyes settled briefly on the unbuttoned waistband of Cyrus’ pants, which were hanging loosely around his hips, tempting, always so tempting.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think it’s just you; they don’t seem to like me much either,” Cyrus responded, tilting his head to the side and raising a teasing eyebrow at Aerin’s staring. “They don’t like being bossed around by some Elven orphan from some backwater town with no relevance,” he sighed, as no matter how long he stayed in White Tower or how much he did for Morella, there were always people who looked at him with contempt.

He turned toward the bathroom, but paused in the doorway and looked back at Aerin, smiling invitingly as he made a beckoning gesture with his head, a silent question, ‘join me?'

He didn’t need words to convey such a thing, and Aerin certainly didn’t need words to answer; he just smiled and took Cyrus by the hand, allowing the elf to lead him into the steamy bathroom.

“How did you heat the water so fast? You haven’t been up here long,” Aerin asked, looking at the large tub that was carved into the ground. It was too big for just one person, even too big for two, but neither of them minded; it just gave them an excuse to sink into the water together, to bask in the warmth while laying back on an equally warm chest.

Cyrus chuckled and brushed the tips of his fingers over Aerin’s cheek. A spark of heat followed the touch, and Aerin’s eyes fluttered closed. “I’m magic, remember?” Cyrus whispered, only to drop his hands to Aerin’s shirt, which he unbuttoned quickly. He was very well versed in the art of stripping people of their clothes, especially Aerin.

He only does it for Aerin now. Only for him.

A kiss was pressed to Aerin’s shoulder, and Cyrus laughed when the prince shivered. Even in the warmth of the room, he trembled; it was really sweet.

“They’re all idiots, you know,” Aerin blurted out, opening his eyes and looking down at Cyrus, who was kissing his neck. “The council—all of them are fools if they can’t understand what a gift you are,” he added, his breath shaking slightly as Cyrus straightened up.

Long fingers pulled at Aerin’s belt, and Cyrus’ voice grew low, his lips by Aerin’s ear and his breath ghosting over the prince’s neck. “All of that’s true, of course, but I prefer we leave our problems out there; right now, I want to focus on you,” he mumbled, and that was all Aerin needed to let the tension release from his shoulders and pull a gentle sigh of contentment from his lips.

The remains of their clothes fell to the floor one by one, and Cyrus didn’t even care that they were probably getting wet from the damp floor; he just picked his way over to the bath with Aerin in tow and sank slowly into the hot water. He’d put bubbles and bath oils into the water, and as a result, it was quite a decadent bath, but he thought they deserved it.

There was a low seat in the tub, and Aerin sat down first, which gave Cyrus the much preferred position of settling himself between the prince’s legs so he could lay back against his chest, his eyes falling closed as the hot water rippled around them and the bubbles softly crackled.

Aerin’s fingers twisted in his hair and then trailed down his neck and arm, across his chest, down to his stomach, before slowly moving back up. It was exploratory and gentle, never straying too far without a word of approval.

Cyrus would have given approval if Aerin asked, but the prince seemed content just toying with him. Their fingers interlocked beneath the water, and Cyrus felt the tip of Aerin’s finger moving slowly around his ring finger, circling slowly and mindlessly.

He thought nothing of it.

Aerin pulled Cyrus’ hand from the water and held it up, watching as the water and bubbles trickled down his blue skin in shining rivulets, each one catching the warm light that filled the bathroom.

Slowly, Cyrus tilted his head back and stared up at Aerin, an amused little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “What are you doing?” He asked, more than a little confused by Aerin’s sudden obsession with his hand.

Oftentimes, Aerin zoned out as he stared at Cyrus, and usually it was flattering, but this felt rather different. Aerin didn’t look far away or out of it; in fact, he was smiling. It was a small smile, but Cyrus could see it easily enough.

“You have nice hands,” Aerin said, meeting Cyrus’ eyes like he expected him to know more than what he was letting on, but all Cyrus could think to do was laugh and nod his head in agreement, though he still didn’t know what had brought on such an out of the blue compliment.

“So do you,” Cyrus responded, reaching up with his free hand to place it against Aerin’s cheek. He left a smear of bubbles across his pale skin, and a few drops of water ran down Aerin’s neck, but the prince barely reacted. He never seemed to do anything Cyrus did, as if somehow he was incapable of seeing Cyrus’ faults, of which there were many.

Aerin only hummed softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and causing Cyrus to press close to him, craving more of the sound and the feeling it gave when the prince’s chest rumbled and his heart beat faster.

It was everything he needed at the moment—perhaps all he would ever need again.

Something in Aerin’s expression shifted; his lips pursed nervously, and his eyes flickered between Cyrus’ own and the high window that was set into the far wall of the room. He swallowed loudly, and Cyrus was about to question him, to ask what was wrong, but before he could get out a word, Aerin broke the silence.

“They’d look better with a ring on them,” he said, the words falling from his lips in a rush, followed soon after by a warm blush creeping up his cheeks and even touching his hairline.

For a moment, Cyrus didn’t process the words, and he just stared in confusion, but only a second later, he was sitting up in a hurry and turning around to the loud sloshing of the bath water.

Their eyes met as Cyrus very pointedly set his hands on Aerin’s shoulders and climbed onto his lap. Each knee settled onto the bench on either side of Aerin’s legs, and his hands dropped down to the rim of the bath until Aerin was effectively caged in.

The room stood still; neither of them breathed for a moment, but their eyes met, and that was everything. The whole world was in Cyrus’ eyes; he had a universe in his mind; he had Aerin’s heart in his hand. He was everything.

“Was that what I think it was?” Cyrus asked, leaning in so close that Aerin could feel his breath and the warmth ghosting across his lips and cheeks. Soft, always so soft, except when he needed things to be hard. Oh, then Cyrus was so happy to oblige.

Aerin swallowed again and summoned every ounce of courage he had so he could speak. “If you thought it was a proposal, then yes, but it can be whatever you want,” he said, looking sheepish and almost apologetic. He had realized what a strange way to propose it was.

He had planned to be far more romantic, to get down on one knee, to beg for eternity with Cyrus by his side, to offer him everything, to give away all he was just to hear the word “yes,” but all that had been forgotten in the moment. Somehow, right now, it seemed like a good time, and all his words had failed him.

If it had cost him Cyrus’ agreement, then he would curse himself for the rest of his life.

Cyrus blinked, he stared, his eyes moved to Aerin’s lips, and then, beautifully, mercifully, wonderfully, he smiled.

“Yes,” he whispered, leaning in the last few inches.

Their lips met, and Aerin was pressed against the wall of the bath, his back arching until his head slipped back and Cyrus moved down to his neck.

The bath water has cooled significantly, but Aerin felt hotter than ever; how could he not when Cyrus’ hand was winding into his hair and the man’s teeth were catching at the skin of his collarbone?

Aerin knew there were going to be marks on his skin later, but for once he didn’t care; for one night he would be above decorum.

It was perfect; everything was perfect. Then Cyrus pulled away, and for a moment Aerin couldn’t breathe, but Cyrus was dragging him up as well, with no intention of leaving him behind. “If you think I’m spending my engagement night in the bath instead of our bed, then you’re not as smart as I thought you were,” he said, climbing out of the bath and barely even bothering with a towel, just wiping away the worst of the water before he gave Aerin an impatient look and headed out to the bedroom.

Aerin didn’t waste a moment, hurrying after Cyrus as fast as he could. He nearly slipped on a wet path of ground, but even that couldn’t slow him down for long, and as soon as he stepped into the bedroom, he was tugged into another kiss.

Cyrus wasn’t gentle, and Aerin didn’t want him to be. The world had tilted, everything had changed in only a few moments, and he needed the rough reminder that he really was alive, that this was real, that Cyrus was his, and that he had agreed to be his forever.

For always.

With a gasp, they broke away, and suddenly Aerin was being shoved onto the bed. Cyrus stood over him for a moment, his eyes alight and his face split with a smile as he looked Aerin up and down. “It wasn’t the most romantic proposal, but I don’t care; I’ll get you on your knees soon enough,” he said, climbing onto Aerin’s prone body and settling on top of him like he owned every inch of Aerin’s being.

He did, of course, though Aerin wouldn’t admit that out loud.

It didn’t matter; nothing mattered now except Cyrus’ hands on his chest, Cyrus’ thighs at his waist, Cyrus’ lips on his neck, and down his chest, Cyrus, Cyrus, Cyrus.

#choices #playchoices #mine #play choices #pb #bolas #blades of light and shadow 2 #blades of light and shadow #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #mc x aerin #aerin x mc #choices aerin #bolas aerin #aerin valleros #prince aerin #writing #my writing

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reveluving · 8 months

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i'll show you little by little

summary: why not spend your day off with a little TLC with your wannabe sherlock?

pairing: m!trystan thorne x f!mc (written as ‘you’, no name usage)

warnings: teen (t); none, really. just poetic, but make it tooth-rottingly fluffy & comfort!

a/n: contributing to our favourite royalty because he deserves it (& 'cause I can't find any open f!mc for him—) as usual, the MC can be yourself or an OC of yours! i love this man as much as the next person, so please, don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» fancy reading another choices fic? check out my m.list!

'He just wants you to know that he’s with you every step of the way.' ;

Imagine waking up with Trystan on a day off. It’s been a minute since you’ve gotten the time just to sit back and unwind, so as soon as you’re presented with one, Trystan takes it as an opportunity to spoil you, and it all begins by turning off your alarm when he knows you’ve forgotten to do so yourself.

But with how busy you’ve been for the past couple of months or so, your body clock forced you to wake up hours before your usual time.

That doesn’t deter him though, because as soon as he feels you stretch, no matter how hard you try to avoid waking him up, he’ll instinctively wrap his arms around you, nuzzling the back of your neck with a deep, groggy “morning”. It’s not hard to convince you to stay, especially when you’ve got your furnace for a partner to keep you warm in between the cold sheets; the best of both worlds.

The muted blue sky, too, only persuaded you to stay in bed—no longer nighttime but not exactly morning just yet.

Like any other morning, it’s not the most silent, with the occasional honks and beeps of the road—where the world was beneath you. It's just you and him now. He knows that you know you’re strong, almost too dedicated to your job but so much more empathetic than any front liners out there.

He’ll tell you if he knows you need a little boost, but the sharing of smiles and lazy kisses speaks louder than words.

As soon as he notices you spacing out, possibly thinking about recent cases that may have hit you harder than usual, you’ll feel his lips—kissing the crown of your head, on your temple, your jaw, anywhere; slow and deliberate. His cold fingertips brushing your skin with feather touches, just to hear your sweet giggles or even a huff of amusement.

Anything to keep you grounded, and anything to reassure himself. Not a single sign of him rushing you to come to terms with whatever was bothering you.

He just wants you to know that he’s with you every step of the way.

And he’ll do much more; bringing your hand up to his lips. With the help of the lights of the bustling town, he makes sure to hold your gaze as he plants even more kisses; starting with the inside of your palm, to your fingers, then to the back of your hand before trailing his lips up your arm the way Gomez would show his affection to the love of his life, Morticia.

He loves it when you lightly run your nails over his shoulders, a sign that you, too, were with him, in more ways than one. It sends shivers down his spine the same way a breeze would on a chilly day.

The two of you would just stay in each other’s arms for hours, just until you could see the first rays of sunlight, and even then, you'd have to convince him. The second the rays hit your eyes, he'll pull you to his chest, closer than you already are, as if protecting you from the first sign of reality.

But as mentioned, if you’re planning to get out of bed real soon, you’ll have to fight for it.

“What’s the rush?” Trystan mumbled against your skin, planting a kiss on your shoulder for the umpteenth time.

“Are you going to be like this the entire day?” You asked with a chuckle.

"Depends," He hummed, pretending to think for a moment, "Was that an offer?"

And before slipping out of his hold, he whispers an “I love you” in your ear before letting you go.

Breakfast is another story. Just before he enters the shower after you did, he’ll jokingly tell you not to lift a finger in the kitchen because he’ll do the cooking, though you can tell that he’s also serious about it.

So, that’s what you did—not make breakfast, but he didn’t say you couldn’t do just a bit of work while waiting for him, and boy, was the look on his face comical.

“What did I tell you?” He grumbled, the slight pout telling you that he was more so disappointed than anywhere close to being angry.

“You didn’t say anything about a quick homework,” You countered playfully as you glanced up at him. You craned your neck, prompting him to lean in to accept your reassuring peck on his lips, “I won’t take long. Just for today.”

I promise.

He’ll huff but says nothing more as he immediately does his thing. Some good ol’ pancakes with an array of toppings. Though simple (and very Americanized compared to the ones in Drakovia), it eventually grew to be his comfort food since his exile, if he's the one who made it, that is.

A reminder that picking himself back up would start somewhere small, and now he gets to share that same comfort with you.

It didn’t help that your seat was facing the stove, so your quick glances at him became subconscious stares. Stares that Trystan thrived on, especially after locking eyes with your embarrassed ones with a knowing look.

“Your breakfast, beautiful.” He placed a stack of pancakes and an empty plate for you before laying out the toppings on a charcuterie board—maple syrup, fancy butter, fresh fruits, your favourite proteins and even went as far as whipping his own cream rather than the canned one sitting pretty in his fridge.

Of course, you took the opportunity to stare at his muscles for a bit as he whipped the crème Chantilly by hand.

“Thank you.” You made sure to really show your appreciation by looking up at him, a grateful smile gracing your lips. It pleases him, but not enough, not when you’re still reading the file.

He won’t go so far as taking it out of your hands, but what he’ll do is sit close to you, plating your favourite combo before cutting a piece of it.

“Open up,” He said, holding the forkful of pancake to your lips, chuckling under his breath when you looked at him in mild surprise. As if you weren’t used to the fact that he was a passionate partner, no matter how long you’ve been together. You couldn’t help but share the same amusement as well, bashfully opening your mouth for the food he had thoughtfully made.

One forkful became two, and two became more, before you eventually closed the file, plating your own with Trystan's favourites before feeding him too.

» tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for fic of the week ;; & the gorgeous blue rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

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rosepetals1 · 5 months

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Holiday Shopping

Book: Perfect Match

Pairing: Hayden Young x F!MC (Arielle Park)

Word Count: ~690

Rating: General

Tagging: @choicesholidays: "I'm so thankful for you." @choicesflashfics Holiday Prompts: "Look, there's mistletoe. We have to kiss, it's the law." @choicesficwriterscreations: Holiday Event

Summary: Arielle & Hayden go shopping for Christmas décor as they get ready to celebrate their first holiday together.

Arielle stood in the aisle, squinting at the snowglobe she was holding in her hands, turning it around and inspecting it as if it were an otherworldly object.

"Hmm, not sure about this one. Hey, Hayden, what do you think?"

She turned to the man beside her and held up the snowglobe to offer him a view. Hayden put down the nutcracker he was looking at, and took the snowglobe from Arielle, chuckling as he did so.

"I'm pretty sure this is the seventh snowglobe you've shown me since we came in here. Have you even looked at anything else?"

Arielle crossed her arms defensively. "Of course I have!"

"Like…?"

"Like…" she paused, finding herself at a loss.

"A lot of things, okay? You just didn't see. Now, please tell me if you think this snowglobe is cute enough to be in our living room or not."

Hayden shook his head in amusement, then gently plucked it from her hands, and placed it into their shopping cart.

"I think it's perfect. Now, come on, let's move on from the snowglobes before you give yourself an aneurysm, alright?" He teased, lightly bumping her shoulder with his.

She sighed, "Alright. Fine. I just… want everything to look splendid, you know? After all, this will be our first official Christmas together."

"And I am very much looking forward to it," he leaned over and planted a loving kiss to her lips. "You have nothing to worry about, believe me. With all the goodies we got already, our place is gonna look like the very definition of Christmas!"

Hayden suddenly paused, a thoughtful look gracing his features. "Although, I guess technically this is going to be my first Christmas in general, considering…" He trailed off, his expression slightly falling.

Arielle immediately knew what he was talking about.

"Honey, come on, let's try not to think about that. The important thing is that I'm going to be with you, we're going to be together, and so will all of our friends too. That's what really matters."

Hayden was silent for a moment, then he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry for being such a downer. The most important thing is the here and now."

Arielle nodded. "Exactly. So, right now, let's continue looking for that giant nutcracker you kept pestering me about. Even though I still think it's going to look weird next to the Christmas tree."

"Hey! I'll have you know, I'm the master decorator! I know what I'm doing, thank you very much."

She laughed. "I'm sure you do. Now, come on, let's keep looking."

As they walked throughout the store, they picked up various decorations along the way, slowly filling their cart to the brim with Christmas adornments. They continued searching the aisles until they finally found the aforementioned nutcracker, which Hayden effortlessly picked up and placed onto their cart.

"..And, that should be all! I think we've gotten everything on the list." Hayden grinned as he looked down at the nearly bursting cart.

"You sure about that, honey? Because I think we're missing something very important." Arielle purred, suddenly holding up a mistletoe.

Hayden raised a brow. "Oh, yeah? I wasn't aware that was on the list. Not that I'm complaining."

She simply smiled at him, then raised it above her head, and feigned a look of surprise. "Look, there’s mistletoe! We have to kiss, it’s the law."

He laughed. "Oh, it's the law now, is it?"

"Yes, it is. Now, come over here, handsome." She beckoned him with a finger.

"As you wish, my lady."

He wiggled his eyebrows as he walked towards her, grabbing her by the hips, and pulling her close. Their lips crashed together passionately as soon as their bodies collided.

Arielle responded immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck as she deepened the kiss. Once they broke apart, they pressed their foreheads together and softly gazed into each other's eyes.

Hayden smiled, "I'm so thankful for you."

She smiled back at him, and gave him one last kiss. "I feel the same way. I love you, Hayden."

"And I love you, Arielle. More than anything."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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justyourusualash · 7 months

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When there are a lot of pretty actresses in your country and your indecisive ass can't decide who'll be your Detective.

Like! Look at them! They're all so gorgeous looking! Who the hell am I supposed to choose?!

Help?!

The first one is Yami.

Second is Kiara.

Third is Disha.

Help me!

#playchoices #choices stories you play #crimes of passion #crimes of passion 2 #playchoices fanfic #disha patani #yami gautam dhar #kiara advani #help #pls #indecisive ass #trystan thorne #crimes of passion trystan #trystan x mc

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choicesficwriterscreations · 24 days

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April Creator of the Month: Aallotarenunelma

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is the lovely @aallotarenunelma! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog My Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr?

Aallotar is fine. I am agender. My pronouns are they/them.

More below...

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

I saw the app being highlighted a lot in Google Play in 2017, but it was only at the end of February-beginning of March 2018 that I downloaded it. It was when Perfect Match 1 started releasing and shortly before Bloodbound 1 began releasing. Time is flying!

There were already a lot of books, and it was a bit overwhelming. I chose the series that was being heavily advertised: The Royal Romance.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined the Choices sub-Reddit in July 2019, then the Tumblr fandom in April 2020.

I first joined the sub because I wanted to discuss the books and the characters, and hopefully befriending other players. It was lonely to read the books, and having no one to share my opinions and theories with. Then, I took a step back from it and after lurking a bit, I joined the Tumblr community.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

When I joined Tumblr, in April 2020, it was initially to be a Writblr. I was writing a story about a heroine named Aallotar. Its title gave my blog’s URL. My blog’s title is its English translation: Aallotar’s dream.

In the end, my blog turned into a bit of everything.

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

This is my very first post. This is my original writing, conveniently mentioned right above. :)

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I define myself as an artist because I create. This is how I express myself. It doesn’t matter if the pencil I use is to write or to draw as long as I create. Before I started learning how to draw, I was always saying that I was drawing with words. To me, this is what writing is. I draw and paint with my words to depict stories that my characters want me to tell.

I mostly write, but I also create fan art, such as sketches and various kinds of edits: quotes, sprites, moodboards, etc.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

For the defunct app Lovestruck, from December 2020 to October 2021.

For Choices, since April-May 2020.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

My all-time favourite Choices book is Veil of Secrets. I adore it!

I heavily create for the It Lives Anthology - the three books - and also for Immortal Desires. I love these books so much that I made a crossover, and most of the characters from the Anthology and from ID have met and even befriended each other.

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

My first Choices fiction is a Blades one: Of Stardust and Light.

I still love it and I wouldn’t change anything - except the typos and the clumsy grammar/syntax, due to the fact I am not an English-native speaker.

For a long time, I thought it was my masterpiece, that I wouldn’t write something as good or even as better than this. But I proved myself wrong in the end.

The other reason why I wouldn’t rewrite it now is because I have definitively stopped writing for my Blades pairing, Tyril x Soile. I made it official a few months ago, and this decision is final.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

It’s really hard to choose only one, but I do have a soft spot for Répondez, S’il Vous Plaît ! #3 because this is where I tell about my OCs’ Ash and Skylar’s meeting. It was a story I wanted to write for a long time and I love it.

Chronicles of a Crimson Summer deserves to be mentioned as well. This is the longest story I have shared here, and it’s a real balance of angst, fluff, and funny moments. Also, because its birth was extremely painful, so for all of these reasons, I am glad I wrote it and shared it.

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

I never expect anything I share to be well received, whether it’s a fiction or a drawing. I’m only sharing it, hoping that at least someone will find it and enjoy it. Even better if it helps the person in any way.

That said, sharing my art remains a lot more difficult than sharing my writing, so any art reblog is leaving me a bit confused, due to my imposter syndrome.

Most people here who are familiar with my stories have read some of the funny stories I have shared, as well as the fluffiest stories I have ever written - sometimes too fluffy for me.

However, this isn’t only what my writing is about. Darker Than Night has generated so much indifference that it saddens me.

This series really shows what my writing is, minus the layer of humour that you can usually expect. It truly deserves better, just like In Joy and Sorrow, that actually gives a good idea of what my writing really is.

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

I usually share a lot of fluff here, because the world outside is hard, so I want to uplift people with sweet and funny stories. However, my original writing is usually angsty with some funny and fluffy moments to alleviate all the angst a little. So, I’m choosing angst. Definitely. To me, writing angst is comforting.

11a - (ARTISTS) If you could only draw one style or type of art for the rest of your life, what would it be and why?

I could easily do oil pastels for the rest of my life. It’s an easy technique to learn, it’s very forgiving, it’s calming, and I love how it looks.

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

I am agender and aspec, so in any non-binary and/or aspec MC / OC of mine can be found parts of me, regardless of how they define themselves on those large spectrums. Representation is highly important to me, so this is one of the recurring themes in my writing.

Also, the witty/sarcastic and playful characters are easy to write because I know them too well!

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Finding the right word is difficult, either in English or in my native tongue. I always want to capture the emotion, the feeling, the landscape with the perfect word. I’m still learning in my daily life.

Regarding my art, at the level I am right now, that would be shadows. Sometimes, they look great, but they often don’t. Practice makes perfect, so this is what I do whenever I can.

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

I tend to have only one WIP that I see to end. One reason for this is that I usually write my stories in a notebook, before I type them down to share them. The state of the notebook is not always great; I even sometimes struggle to re-read what I corrected!

If it’s about my original work, then, yes, I want to finish that one novel’s second draft.

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

It has actually happened with one of my siblings. At that time, I was only writing for Blades and had maybe like five stories posted. I let my sibling read them because we are close. For other people, I think it would be on a case-by-case basis, but most likely not. I'd rather make them read my original writing, if my shyness isn’t getting in the way.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

Émile Zola and Arto Paasilinna are my all-time favourite writers.

I am learning from every fanfiction writer I am reading. First, because I read in a foreign language. Second, because I believe you learn from everyone every day.

In terms of art, I don’t think I have a particular influence. I am still exploring my style.

17- (WRITERS) Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

It would be In Joy and Sorrow. I created this It Lives in the Woods AU series to give a life to my first MC, Riikka. The one she couldn’t have. In this series, I talk about close friendships, coming outs, being bilingual/bicultural, how to navigate a romantic relationship as an aspec*, how to deal with bullying/harassment, etc. I talk about timeline collapse and time-travelling as well.

And because there’s the most delightful OC ever, my all-time favourite: Ash. He truly is one of a kind and his friendship with Dan is really something special.

*aspec: a person on the aromantic and asexual spectrums.

18 - (ARTISTS) Which one of your creations would you like to see a fiction written about?

I don’t have any yet that would justify the honor of having a fiction being written about.

19- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I started writing when I was 10 years old. It was thanks to an assignment for my native tongue class when we were studying the structure of a fairytale. I really enjoyed writing one, so I kept writing over the summer. Little stories about everything and nothing.

I wrote my first novel when I was 13, but never dared to send it to a publisher. I kept writing novels - and not sending them, I have a nice collection, now! - and branching out in other forms of writing, in hope to develop as a writer: rpg forums, poetry, (fan)fictions, creative writing course, etc. I took a ten year break from writing (fan)fictions before returning to them.

I am working on the second draft of a novel about grief, and I have three other different novels already outlined.

Regarding art, I mostly create non-fandom art.

20- What other hobbies do you have?

Except writing and drawing; I paint murals and do oil pastel; I do theatre; I design and crochet my own clothes.

I enjoy watching old films, Hollywood era and silent ones included, but modern films as well, if they are excellent.

I love learning foreign languages, listening to music and going to gigs.

I am also a true race car enthusiast, preferably Formula races - F1 to F4, Formula Regional included.

I also enjoy going for walks in nature and travelling.

21: Tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

I want to thank CFWC for highlighting me, and giving me the chance to talk more about my characters, my stories, my writing and my art. This means a lot, especially as this month is also when I’m celebrating my 4 year Tumblr Anniversary.

Thank you for your support throughout these years!

I want to thank so many people, but I’m also scared to miss any of them!

Thank you to my friends, old and new. 💛

Thank you to everyone who has read and reblogged my stories and left kudos and comments on them. It has been helping me so much in believing in myself and my writing.

Thank you to everyone who has reblogged my art and my edits and left comments on them.

Thank you to every talented person who has gifted me a piece of their beautiful art, written or not, anonymously or not.

Thank you to everyone who has asked about my characters and my stories.

Thank you to everyone who has sent me positive and uplifting messages.

Lastly, thank you to every single person who has supported me these past months, in many different ways. Your kindness and your presence have made a difference, and I am grateful for those and for you all.

And a special shoutout to my fellow rainbow creators! 🌈

#choices fic writers creations #cfwc creator of the month #choices stories you play #playchoices #aallotarenunelma #choices #choices fanart #choices fanfic #april creator of the month #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanart

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jerzwriter · 3 months

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If the cap fits...

I don't care where you live; you must have heard me scream when I opened this treasure from @/artbyainna this morning! Agh! Look at my babies! I already had a commission planned for them when I created Trystan's Holiday Recap, where we learned about Carolina's gift. It was @lilyoffandoms who said, "I need the art of this, STAT!" and I wrote Ainna and said, "We need to make an adjustment." lol I hope the CoP fans out there love this half as much as I do, because that would be a whole lot. There's a little drabble below to accompany this.

Book: Crimes of Passion Pairing: Trystan Thorne x Carolina Rose (F!MC) Words: 740 Rating: Teen Summary: Carolina has a little surprise for her prince, but how will he take it?

@choicesjanuary2024 - Day 12 - Transformation (because Trystan has certainly undergone one.)

Crimes of Passion Masterlist | My Main Masterlist

It was early evening, the sun was just beginning to set, and Trystan was anxious to put the work day behind him. He was shoving folders into his desk and about to lock the drawers when Carolina sauntered in. If there was one thing that could distract him, no matter what he was doing, she was it. His eyes lingered over her with every step, the puppy-dog look on his face so unbecoming for a Drakovian royal, but there was no use fighting it; he had long since given in. But there was something different about her today. She appeared less tense, relaxed even. The gleam in her eye and the devious little smile tugging at her lips told him one thing for sure: she was up to something.

She plopped down on the chair before him, crossing her legs and placing a brown paper shopping bag on the desk before meeting his eyes with a playful yet seductive stare. Trystan couldn't keep a straight face any longer.

“All right, what are you up to?”

“Me,” she responded coyly, holding her hands in mock horror. “What on earth suggests that I’m up to something, Detective Thorne?”

“That smile, that tone, that deliciously playful look in your eyes... what are you doing, Carolina Rose?”

“Well,” she pulled the bag to her lap. “I may have gotten you an early Christmas present.”

Trystan’s face fell. “No. You can’t give me anything yet! I don't have anything to give you.”

“I don’t need anything,” she smiled. “Besides, I know I’m helpless at stopping you from spoiling me as the month progresses.”

“You’re learning,” he smirked. “So, what’s in the bag?”

She gleefully stuck her hand in and held out a black baseball cap... not the dark navy of the Yankee caps he had become so familiar with... and this one had white lettering; he took it in his hand to read.

“Armchair detective... armchair detective? What does this mean?”

With a little giggle, more fitting for a schoolgirl than the hardened detective she had become, Carolina began to explain.

“Have you heard the term armchair quarterback? It means someone who watches football, insisting they know better than the coach on the field. They bark orders at the coach and scream as if they're the coach, all from the comfort of their couch with a bag of Cheetos at their side.”

“I’m familiar with the term, dear,” he replied sarcastically. “But what is an armchair det...” his mouth hung open as realization set in. “Are you saying I’m an armchair detective?”

“Well,” she teased. “You’ve had some success, I’ll give you that, but you are still very much a newb.”

“So... I’m the armchair detective?” he was bordering on insulted, but Carolina just shrugged playfully.

“I mean, if the cap fits....”

“So then, what does that make you?”

“Funny you should ask that,” she grinned, reaching into the bag to retrieve one more item. Flipping her long golden brown hair back, she placed a cap on her head, carefully tucking any loose tendrils within. Trystan leaned closer to see what hers said, and in a matching font, it declared: Detective.

“Detective?” he asked.

“Well, that’s what it says on my tax form.”

Unable to keep a straight face, she doubled over in a fit of giggles.

“I am deeply hurt,” he scolded with the tone of a man who had been destined to be king.

“You know I'm joking, baby. But come on let's take a selfie! Our friends will love this!"

“I think not.”

“Come on! Where is your sense of humor?”

“Oh, I have no problem with the selfie. I don't even have a problem with your pale attempt at humor... but there is no way I am messing up my crowning glory by wearing that cap.”

To drive his point home, he flipped his head back, running his hands through his luxurious locks, as Carolina looked on with amusement.

“You are such a diva!”

“I am,” he declared proudly, rolling his chair over to hers and pulling her into a tender kiss. “But I’m your diva.”

“And don’t you forget it!”

“Never!” he smiled smugly, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“What are you doing?” Carolina asked.

“Ordering us t-shirts.”

“T-shirts? What kind?”

“His and hers... mine will say Diva... you, my love, are an Armchair Diva.”

“Hey,” she said with a laugh, "if the shirt fits..."

@choicesficwriterscreations

Tagging others separately.

#choices fanart #choices fanfic #crimes of passion #crimes of passion 2 #trystan thorne #trystan thorne x mc #playchoices fanart #playchoices fanfic #playchoices #choices stories you play

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february2024choiceschallenge · 3 months

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Choices February Challenge - 1/7 Seven Types of Love Eros

Eros is a passionate, sexual love. Often idealized in modern society, it is usually equated to "romantic" love. However, in Ancient Greece, eros wasn't always viewed favorably because it could cause one to lose their senses, become obsessed, or neglect other obligations. It was viewed as the opposite of reason (logos). Given enough time, eros can turn into storge.

Please use the photos or words above or a prompt below to inspire your creations. Any fiction or art that reflects eros will be accepted for this challenge.

This challenge is for the Pixelberry Choices fandom only. There will be an individual post for all 7 Types of Love, then a masterpost containing all. Some prompts below are mature.

All types of creations will be accepted for this event: fics, art, moodboards, edits, headcanons, etc.

IMPORTANT NOTE!!!

I am not receiving tags for this blog, and I have little to no hope that Tumblr will fix this before the month ends... so please tag @jerzwriter or send me a link with the DM - thank you, and sorry for the inconvenience.

Prompts:

Write a fiction or create something about...

Your character and their partner(s) experience their favorite form of pleasure.

Two friends crossing over into eros (passionate) love. Include the aftermath if desired.

How your character expresses passion in other ways - dance, art, music, cooking, etc.

Unhealthy eros - an obsession, an affair, being blinded by passion, etc.

A passionate escape - a honeymoon, parents escaping home to get some alone time, they never left the hotel room, an erotic getaway, etc.

Sexual experimentation and exploration.

The biological basis of eros is procreation - so anything to do with procreation, childbirth, etc.

Uncontrollable urges - at work, at the beach, while camping, on a road trip... anyplace you wish.

Write a story about eros love fading in a relationship (for one, both, or more partners).

Any work about passionate love will be accepted.

Be sure to tag @choicesfebruary2024 and use the tag #Eros or #Passion

Thank you to @choicesmc for assisting with the words in the header! :)

#choices february challenge #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices fanfic #choices fanart #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanart

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aria-ashryver · 27 days

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Meet my OC - Viktor Ivanov

Name: Viktor Ivanov Book: Immortal Desires Orientation: Bisexual Pronouns: He/him Birthday: 12th October 1997 Sign: Libra Born: Dunedin, New Zealand Raised: Sydney, Australia, and Inverness, Scotland (with some short stints in both NZ and Croatia) Heritage: Croat

More under the cut! 🖤✨

Family

Henrik Ivanov (younger brother) Mother (name tbd) Father (name tbd)

Viktor’s closest family member is his younger brother Henrik (Henri, as a diminutive), who is eight. Henri attends boarding school, so they do not see each other much, but Henri idolises his big brother and Viktor would do anything to keep Henri from being hurt. He believes his parents treat Henri as the “do-over” child, and that they think Viktor “lacks ambition” and “refuses to take anything seriously”. There is a lot of pressure on Henri to perform well academically and to follow in his father’s footsteps, career-wise.

Viktor’s father’s career remains something of a mystery to him — he knows it is a somewhat high-ranking governmental position that requires him to travel a lot, so his father is only home for short stints every few months. When he was around 12 or 13, Viktor decided he would ask his dad outright what his job actually was the next time he showed an interest in one of Viktor’s hobbies or interests.

To this day, Viktor has no idea what his father does for a living.

His mother is a stay-at-home housewife. She is the family member Viktor sees the most often, and also the one he has the worst relationship with.

Skills / Hobbies

Sketching, painting, singing — frontman and founder of grunge/rock band Your Bisexual Awakening. Also plays bass

YBA cycles through names often, all of which have a story attached. They choose a new name via the following system: if a band member says something stupid or memorable in conversation, and two or more members simultaneously say "band name", they must change it to whatever was just said. I.e.

Cal: seriously, guys? again? Ava: my bad. Angel's refractory period is more like a Refractory Comma Angel, Viktor, and Luca, simultaneously: band name Ava: aw, fuck.

Random Trivia

Moved a lot as a child — growing up jumping between Scotland, Australia, New Zealand, and Croatia has left Viktor with the weirdest accent. Its mostly Scottish... ish? Kinda?

Enjoys anime — once described watching Tokyo Ghoul as the purest spiritual experience of his life (and then sulked inconsolably for a week when he found out the final season was copaganda)

Scared of dogs (was bitten when he was younger)

Loves having his photo taken, but also can’t look at photos of himself sometimes, because they often bring on depersonalisation episodes

Huge collection of slogan t-shirts he crops and alters himself.

Can do overtone / polyphonic singing (but not well)

When he shared a dorm room with Luca at Avalon, for a while his alarm was this Marc Rebillet song (until Luca threatened to beat him to death with a pair of socks unless he changed it)

Has a crush on Kylo Ren

Is deeply ashamed of his crush on Kylo Ren

Favourite movie is Sucker Punch (will rant AT LENGTH about how people completely miss the feminist read)

His fashion sense is varied and questionable. One day he’ll be in gritty, black techwear, the next he’s full flower-boy poet. Then he’ll be Grandma-chic, and the next day he might be wearing a three-piece suit patterned exclusively with cobs of corn.

He does really love garments that drape and flow, though, and is a bit of a sucker for glitter and fun textures. No matter how loud, he somehow manages to always wear the outfits, and not have them wear him.

Viktor’s goals are informed by an odd mix of wanting a sense of agency and independence, while also just wanting to be taken care of and not have to think

Pathetic Babygirl of All Time

Personal Life

cw!! for talk around mental illness, suicide, and substance abuse

Viktor’s childhood was extremely difficult in that his mother simply does not believe that mental illnesses and neurologic disorders are legitimate conditions, and denies that Viktor’s many conditions are real. She believes he is making everything up for attention. Viktor has had this rhetoric drilled into him since childhood — there is nothing wrong with him, he’s just weak, lazy, a failure, a troubled child.

As such, he has never been diagnosed with anything on record.

He is quite mistrustful of authority figures as a result of his upbringing.

The first real, healthy parental influence in his life was Terri O’Rinn. She was the one to refer Viktor to a specialist doctor — she called in a favour from a friend/colleague, who was able to confirm Viktor’s diagnosis of mild to moderate Tourette Syndrome. This diagnosis remains strictly off-record. He primarily has motor tics, but he does have some verbal ones too — many of his tics are indistinguishable from the way he carries himself and his usual, somewhat eccentric mannerisms of speaking and moving.

Viktor also suffers from depression and generalised anxiety disorder. Luca has “diagnosed” him with “ADHD by peer review.” Viktor also deals with frequent bouts of passive suicidal ideation. Luca has had to talk him down on two separate occasions when he has threatened attempts. He has attempted once, on his own, and has never told anyone about it. Viktor loves Luca like a brother, as they do him, and their bond is fundamentally unshakeable.

Viktor fell into performing initially as a means to cope with his Tourettes — music helps to help him feel in control of his symptoms, so he can often be found singing, humming, or whistling to himself as he goes about his business. Alcohol and weed incidentally dial back his premonitory urges as well, allowing him to more easily suppress his tics, so there have been patterns of substance abuse throughout Viktor’s life when he’s been in a bad place mentally.

In classes at school, he was something of the class clown — Viktor quickly realised he liked dictating the kind of attention that was on him (and that he actually really loves attention when its the kind he has sought out himself). So rather than people staring at him because of his tics, he’d rather enrapture them on purpose with beautiful and hypnotic performances. Leaning into his role as the band’s vocalist and frontman did wonders for his self-confidence and overall quality of life.

Also — he’s just really, really, good at singing 🖤🖤🖤

You can find out more about Viktor via my masterlist, or read about him in my longfic, snow in crimson, starlight in gold on AO3! 🖤(direct link, fic is rated Explicit)

tagging: @choicesficwriterscreations

#i release the boy into the wild hes your problem now #SICSIG #viktor ivanov #meet my oc #cfwc meet my mc #immortal desires #playchoices fanfic #choices fic writers creations #🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈

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starlight-starfury · 5 months

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Fables & Falsehoods

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow

Characters: (F!Elf!MC) Raine & Kade

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Fantasy violence, blood, depictions of scarring/injury.

Length: 4.7k

Summary: Alternate timeline where Kade was shadow-scarred during the fight against the Dreadlord.

Tags: @lawrencebarkley @watatsumi-island @choicesficwriterscreations

A/N: This turned out wayy longer than expected 😅 For maximum emotional damage also read this fic.

It was morning when Raine set off towards the outskirts of Riverbend, with a light mist still hovering over the hills and the sky a pale shade of daffodil yellow as she followed the river upstream to the wild meadows.

The young girl crouched with her basket in hand as she found a patch of blue chamomile flowers, ignoring how the pollen made her sensitive nose itch while she recalled the instructions the farmer had given her.

Harvest them during early morning, when the dew has evaporated but before the sun is fully shining.

Their scent was reminiscent of the sweet hay kept in the village stables, and she took great care to gently remove the flower heads without damaging the stems before she placed them delicately in the basket.

Once she had collected enough and the sun was higher in the sky, she stood and followed the dirt path back to the village, with her basket bumping against the side of her leg as she went.

She skipped up to the old wooden cottage she and Kade lived in with the farmer, and left the basket on the table near the fireplace so he could use the flowers to make tea, having been unable to collect them himself in his older age.

When it was ready, she tentatively carried the mug to the small room they shared. Inside, Kade’s slight frame laid in bed shaking from fever, his limbs occasionally wracked with tremors as he coughed.

“Kade,” she whispered, unsure if he was asleep. When he stirred and opened his eyes, she sat down beside him. “I brought you tea.”

She helped him sit up enough to lean against the bed frame, and looked inside the mug where the drink had been infused with golden honey that shimmered and swirled within like liquified sunlight. It looked magical, and that gave the young girl enough hope in her heart that it could heal him.

Raine lifted the mug to his mouth so he could take a sip, only six years old and too weak to hold it on his own.

“It’s made with flowers!” She explained. “I found a whole field so I’ll pick some more tomorrow. The farmer said using them in this tea will help you feel better.”

Her expression filled with worry. “It is working, right?”

“Tastes good,” he murmured before glancing back down at the mug. “I’m drinking flowers?”

She giggled and placed the empty mug on the bedside table when he was finished. Kade sighed and laid his head back down on the pillow, and just when Raine thought he was going to fall back asleep, he opened his eyes once more. “Can you read me a story?”

“Which one?” She asked.

“The one about the dragon.”

She picked up the book he was referring to and sat close enough for him to see the penciled illustrations. “Once upon a time, at the top of a great mountain peak, there was a dragon of light whose scales shone brighter than any jewel…”

As she continued to read, dark clouds began to gather outside and her voice was soon accompanied by the soft pattering of light rainfall.

“…The nearby villagers feared for their safety and so they shot the dragon out of the sky, but they didn’t know it had been defending something. Not a hoard of gold but something far more precious, a shimmering egg that now sat alone in the darkened cave.”

When she glanced back up, Kade was fast asleep and raindrops trickled slowly down the window pane. She closed the book and traced a finger along the cover, where the dragon’s scales reflected the sky with an opalescent sheen that caused rainbows to ripple across its large body.

With a yawn, she put the book away and crawled into her own bed, and as she drifted off to sleep her head was filled with dreams of someday crossing paths with a dragon for herself.

A few years later, they were playing in an old stable where the worn grey bricks of the exterior were lined with moss, and eating berries they had collected from the nearby woods. Kade had recovered from his illness, but the elderly farmer had sadly passed and now it was just the two of them on their own.

“It’s broken!”

“What is?”

“My bow!”

Raine sat among the straw as she frustratedly tried to fix it. Although the stable had not been used for years and the outside looked uninviting, it was surprisingly warm within and filled with large bales of hay that were perfect for hiding and climbing.

She frowned when her attempts were to no avail. It was only a toy made of fragile wood, but the bowstring had snapped and she had no means of repairing it by herself.

“Every great adventurer needs a weapon, Kade!” She sighed. “And mine’s busted.”

“What about my slingshot?” He asked, holding up the one he’d crafted out of twigs that morning after seeing a drawing in one of his books.

She looked at it doubtfully. “That’s okay, you can keep it.”

“But slingshots make great weapons, look!” He picked up one of the berries and placed it in the sling before firing, and it hit Raine directly in the forehead before falling to the ground and leaving a small purple juice stain marked on her skin.

“Hey!” She rubbed her head with her forearm. “I’ll get you for that!”

As she glanced around the stable looking for something to help enact her revenge, she found a dark piece of wood sticking out from one of the straw piles. When she lifted it she saw it was a small toy sword, carved roughly but still intact despite being in the old building for years.

“I found one!” She said, her payback forgotten as she and Kade studied the sword.

“A fine weapon.” He nodded with approval. “It will aid you well on your quest.”

Raine giggled. “What’s my quest?”

He turned and pointed to the highest hay bale in the room. “Climb the great mountain and defeat the beast that lurks there!”

She leapt up onto the lowest pile, adjusting her footing as she climbed higher. She was almost at the top when she slipped and nearly fell, and a few loose strands of straw drifted to the ground. “Woah!”

“You can do it!” Kade cheered from the bottom.

With one final haul, she pulled herself up to the top and triumphantly waved her sword in the air. “I did it! I slayed the beast!”

“I knew you could!” He clapped as she sat there for a moment to catch her breath while her mind wandered off in deep thought, a look of immense concern on her features that looked unusual for the young girl.

“Kade, do you…” She said slowly before trailing off. “…Do you think even heroes get scared?”

“Of course. I know if I had to fight a massive dragon I’d be scared.”

“Then how do they do it?”

He was silent for a moment. “Because they care more about doing what’s right.”

Raine grinned, her eyes sparkling. “You’re such a goody-goody.” Then she brandished the sword at him and leapt from the hay bale, tackling him to the ground where they both collapsed into a pile of laughter.

Above their resounding joy, Raine heard a creak and looked up in time to see one of the large wooden beams from the ceiling swing and come falling down straight towards them.

With a squeal and a hard shove, she pushed Kade out of the way and rolled to the side just moments before it crashed to the ground, sending straw flying.

She sat up dazed and with a few pieces in her hair, and Kade helped her back onto her feet.

“That was too close,” he said.

She nodded in agreement. “I’m not sure we should play here anymore…”

“What would’ve happened if it fell on us?” He asked.

“Well, you’d probably have gotten a concussion at least.” Raine answered. “And you don’t need another one of those.”

Kade shuddered as they both remembered the time he’d been hanging upside down from a tree branch near the riverbank, and how he said he “wanted to know how bats slept that way” before he fell and landed on his head.

She laughed at his expression. “Come on, no more old buildings for a while. Or trees. If we’re not careful we’ll run out of places to play.”

He sighed. “The fields it is, then.”

“Race you there!” Raine said, and he was quick to follow, but both of them were too distracted to notice the wooden sword lying on the ground forgotten once more.

Time seemed to move forward in a blurred whirlwind after that, from the carefree joys of childhood to helplessly watching Kade get trapped in the Onyx Shard and the long, arduous journey it had taken to rescue him.

She had seen all the beautiful and treacherous places of the world in that time. The sun setting across the ocean at Port Parnassus, the glittering city of Undermount, even a place as harsh and nightmarish as the Deadwood held its own secret places of wonder.

Although she savoured every moment of the adventure, there was still a hollow ache through it all that reminded her they were supposed to be by each other’s side. He was the only family member she had left after what had happened to the farmer and her parents, and she couldn’t lose him too.

Her determination to save him ignited an ember in her heart, one that carried her onward through every challenge they faced along the way, no matter how perilous. One that led them all directly into the realm of shadow, a twisted land of darkness no one had ever returned from and to face an enemy proclaimed impossible to defeat.

For a brief moment, all of the danger lurking ahead was forgotten and the pain they had been through was worth it when she was finally able to save Kade. His weakened frame sat in a cold, lonely cell, bruised and beaten but alive, and seeing him alive was what had mattered to her the most.

Their quest led them to a chamber of ash and smoke, where the Dreadlord rose from his tomb while possessing the body of their friend, wearing her skin like a ghost and controlling her movements as a puppet with strings woven of shadow and malice.

Soldiers swarmed them like an oncoming tide of darkness, with magic rising and falling in turbulent waves and weapons that surged and clashed mid-air. Through it all, she could feel her strength waning.

With every soldier that fell a new row appeared, and she fought until she was wounded and bleeding, until her whole body felt like it was made of lead as she struggled to take each step.

The ember that had carried her so far began to fade out when her legs could no longer hold her upright, and she sunk to her knees, too weakened to fight any longer. She had used up all her strength on this journey, only to run out right on the threshold when she needed it the most.

“And here I thought you’d be more willing to put up a fight.” The Dreadlord spoke with a voice tainted by dust and rot, hovering above her as an omen of death. “How pathetic.”

It used Nia’s hand to summon a jagged lance of weaponised darkness, pointed and aimed straight for her heart. “Now you will meet your end.”

Raine’s body slumped forward as the lance soared through the air and she braced herself for the final hit, eyes closed as she expelled her last breath.

It never came.

She looked up to see a figure standing in front of her, with the lance meant to kill her piercing clean through his right side.

“Kade!” She screamed, and his fingers trembled as he reached for the wound, dark blood seeping across his hand as shadow slowly began to spread throughout his body.

Even in this state, he still managed a weak smile.

He was always smiling, she remembered. While bedridden as a child, running through the woods, and playing songs at the tavern. His optimism even under such dire circumstances throughout their lives often made her think he was more of a hero than she was.

She knew it to be the truth.

“You…always saved me.” His voice was barely a whisper as he spoke, and tears welled in Raine’s eyes before spilling down her cheeks. “Now it’s my turn…to save you.”

He swayed on his feet and she rushed to catch him in her arms before lowering him to the stone ground. “No, no.” She whispered. “Not again.”

His eyes fluttered closed as his breathing grew shallow, and she reached for his bloodied hand. “Kade, I…I can’t lose you again.” Panicked desperation took hold as she uttered a silent plea. “Please.”

He stirred for a brief moment before using all his remaining strength to open his eyes once more. “Leave me…Get to Nia.” He let out a painful sounding cough as blood dripped down his chin. “Be the hero I…know you are.”

With a strangled sob, she hauled herself to her feet with her weapon in hand. The rest of the battle passed in a blur, from wielding the Blade of Light to opening a portal back to Whitetower, all that mattered was ensuring her brother’s safety.

She called for a healer and helplessly watched his body be carried away, knowing that if she had just been able to hold on a little longer she could have prevented the worst of it.

He was too injured to attend the medaling ceremony, but Nia assured her that he was recovering. That he was talking and laughing with the healers when he wasn’t asleep, and although the shadow scarring would be permanent, he was going to be okay, and that was what mattered the most.

Raine took a deep breath as she gazed around the city, at everyone they had worked so hard to save. It might take a while but she hoped that maybe, someday, it would all be okay.

Kade wasn’t there when she was taken.

He was still recovering from his injuries, warring with the shadow while under the constant attention of the palace healers. The last time he had seen Raine was late afternoon when she came to visit, telling him she was going to the palace terrace to celebrate the Dreadlord’s defeat with a victory toast.

“Bring back a drink for me?” He asked, grinning.

“Of course,” she laughed, before turning her back as she walked out the door, and he picked up one of the large books she’d bought for him at the festival. He knew she still felt guilty, but hadn’t yet had the chance to reassure her that he didn’t regret taking the lance in her stead and that he would do it again if he must, even though he knew she would disapprove.

He was still reading when her companions barged into the room in a frantic hurry a few hours later, and he panicked when he saw she wasn’t among them. “What’s going on?” He asked, and everyone started speaking all at once.

“They took her,” Tyril scowled. “Back to the Shadow Realm.”

“A portal opened on the terrace and their army swarmed through.” Mal said.

“We weren’t strong enough to fight them.” Nia frowned, and Kade used all his strength to push himself from the bed, even though his body burned in protest.

“Kade, your leg-” The healer tried to warn him but he gritted his teeth as he leant against the wall, ignoring the sharp pain pulsing in his leg until it was too much to bear. “I have to…have to find her.” His eyes almost rolled back as he began to collapse and Imtura lifted him back over to the bed.

“You won’t be able to save her if you make yourself worse.” She said, helping him sit back down.

“We have to get her back.” Kade said, looking determinedly at the group before realising none of them had any answers, their expressions looking as hopeless as he felt. “How do we get her back?”

He wished he had been there, but he knew that even if he had, there wasn’t anything he could have done. He wasn’t a fighter or a mage, he couldn’t hold his own in a proper fight and he felt out of his depth and as helpless as he had been when he was a sickly child.

King Arlan permitted them access to the Royal Archives, and since Kade wasn’t in a state to go there himself he insisted they bring their findings back to him, and as weeks went by his room ended up a mess of scattered books and old scrolls where everyone gathered to share their resources.

As he slowly recovered he was able to visit the archives more frequently, being offered a position as the head archivist that he hoped would give him the information he needed to save Raine.

For a short while he performed at the taverns in Whitetower, always having found solace in music throughout his life. But the songs he sang of legendary heroes felt like a mockery, and the strings of his lute only strummed empty taunts that reminded him he could be doing more, that he should be doing more to find her.

Then came the day when the others decided the archives didn’t hold the answers they needed. They decided to set off to search the realms instead, and he had wanted to go with them but knew it was for the best if he stayed at the palace.

Someone needed to be there if she returned, he told himself, but it felt more like an unconvincing reminder he could still be helpful, that there were hundreds of books still unread that may yet reveal some small glimpse of hope and a way to bring her back.

The others patted him on the shoulder, telling him they would do everything they could to help save her and that they would be fine if he stayed. Kade promised them they were all welcome back in Whitetower and that they could use the archives at any time in the future again if necessary.

It was all he could offer.

And yet he knew it wasn’t enough.

Raine’s return was not a forgettable display for those who had witnessed it.

The guards were going about their usual business when a portal appeared, a vibrant shade of electric purple that crackled with energy before a figure flew through, as though she had tumbled through a storm and right into the palace throne room.

“I need to…see the king and his advisors.” She wheezed. “It’s…important.” Her vision began to flicker as she knelt on the cold, marble floor and before she knew what was happening, she found herself being pulled from the ground and into a pair of familiar arms.

“Raine, you’re…you’re really-” Kade’s voice sounded disbelieved, and although she returned the hug, she leaned back when his hands trembled and more people began to gather nearby.

“I’m…glad to see you too, but what’s going on?”

Kade shook his head as though he still couldn’t believe his eyes. “Raine, you’ve been gone for a year.”

“What?” Her voice barely came out as a whisper as the world began to sway around her. “What do you mean a year?”

Part of her wanted to believe it was some sort of joke, though a glance at his healed wounds and more polished outfit suggested that surely some time had passed, but a year sounded impossible.

Some of the shadow spread across his face had receded slightly, leaving scarred cracks across the skin, but it wasn’t healed. Nia said it would never be fully healed, but he did look healthier. He was standing upright now that his leg had recovered and he wore that same old mischievous grin on his face, all too familiar to her after years of causing trouble.

His right eye looked better too, almost swollen shut when she had seen him last but now fully vibrant, although the iris had been permanently changed from grey to amber.

“Kade, that’s…” She frowned. “That’s not possible.” She knew it was the truth based on what she had seen, but she didn’t want to have to believe it.

“I wish that was the case,” he sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, let’s talk about this somewhere else.”

Having multiple swords pointed in her direction wasn’t exactly how she imagined her return would play out, but was also the least of her concerns as Kade waved the guards down and led her to the indoor gardens away from the commotion that had begun to stir.

She sat down on the fountain’s edge, surrounded by flowering bushes as the water trickled slowly, too serene of a setting for the tumultuous wave of emotions crashing inside her.

“What happened while I was gone?” She asked.

He looked down for a moment, as though even the memory caused himself pain. “After you were taken, we spent weeks trying to find a way to get you back. When that didn’t work, the others went to search elsewhere. I was offered a job in the Royal Archives and I took it because…” he trailed off for a moment, uncertain, “because it was the only way I could help bring you back.”

Under normal circumstances he was sure she would have teased him about being appointed head archivist, that she would have been thrilled for him working in the palace of all places and surrounded by books all day as he’d always dreamed. Instead she was unusually quiet, glancing at her hands for a long time before she finally spoke.

“Everything is different now, isn’t it?” Her voice carried a solemness even she couldn’t quite place. She felt like a ghost brought back from the dead at his side, feeling alone in a world that seemed to just move on in her absence, a world where everything had changed.

“Nothing has changed,” he tried to reassure her, but they both knew it was a lie.

She looked at his arm, where the shadow marred and twisted his flesh. “Gods, Kade, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, I don’t regret it. Not when it saved you.” He frowned as her gaze shifted to the floor. All their lives they had been inseparable, having always been side by side up until Kade had gotten trapped inside the Onyx Shard.

Ever since then it seemed like they were set on opposite sides of the same path, and it felt as though a series of cracks had begun to form between them, like fragile glass on the verge of shattering apart.

“I wasn’t like the others,” he spoke slowly, his voice low. “I didn’t want a hero, I just needed my sister back.”

Raine took a deep breath, trying to maintain her rising nerves. “I didn’t exactly ask to be trapped there, you know.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He took her arm, but she gently shrugged him away.

“Look,” she sighed, glancing out the ornate stained glass window before dragging a hand through her hair. “It’s getting late. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

He gave a brief nod. “I’m sure you’re exhausted. I won’t get in your way.”

“Kade…” She shook her head. “Goodnight.” Her tone felt distant but she still took care to place her hand on his uninjured shoulder, giving him a half-hearted smile although she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes.

“…Goodnight.” Kade whispered, and as she walked away they could both feel the cracks between them only growing deeper.

The next morning, the sun was rising over Whitetower and the palace was the first part of the city to awaken as its light painted the turrets a brilliant shade of gold, making the scarlet spires resemble rubies amongst the regal splendour of dawn.

Raine was making her final preparations at the castle entrance, tacking up a horse from the royal stables with a white mane that cascaded like snowfall when Kade ran towards her.

“Raine! I’ve been looking all over the palace for you!” He reached her side with evident relief on his features before confusion set in as he glanced at the horse. “Where are you going?”

“I have to gather the others,” she said firmly as she adjusted the leather bridle. “The Ash Empire is on their way and we need to stop them before-”

“You’re leaving?” The disbelief in his tone made her movements halt and look at him properly, seeing a flicker of betrayal in his gaze that only further stirred her remorse. “Raine, I just got you back.”

“I have to, Kade, I-”

“Why do you always have to be the one who saves everybody?”

Her pause was brief before she turned her attention back to the horse, and any softness in her voice had faded. “This is my fault, I’m the only person who can fix it.”

“You don’t have to do this just because you think you failed me.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“Because you look at me and all you see is guilt.” She stilled, her fingers trembling along the reigns, and they both knew deep down that it was true. “You’re scared of me because you think…you think I’m one of them.”

Dark images of the Shadow Court flashed through her mind, with sinister smiles and shadow pulsing through their veins, and she vehemently shook her head. “No, Kade, I could never-”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to blame yourself, but you need to know I did it to save you, not so you could go putting yourself in danger again.”

“You know the risks at stake! Do you want me to just stand by and do nothing?”

“I never asked for any of this! I went to the temple with you so you could have the adventure you’d always dreamed about, and look where that got us. Do you think being tortured in the shadow realm is what I wanted?”

“Of course not!” She snapped, all her guilt and frustration rushing to the surface. “You know I would have prevented you from getting trapped there if I could, but I can’t do anything to change that. All I can do is try to make up for it.”

“And you think the best way to do that is by risking your life?”

“If the Ash Empire finds a way to the Light Realm they’ll destroy everything. I’m doing what’s best for us!”

His expression turned stormy, a dark contrast to his normally cheerful self, and one that made her blood run cold. “And how would you know what’s best for us? You weren’t even here!”

As soon as the words came out he wished he could take them back.

For her, it felt as though a knife had been cleaved through her chest, severing her clean in half and leaving her to shatter into a thousand pieces. She recognised the constriction forming in the base of her throat and the familiar sting of tears that threatened to spill before she pushed the feelings down, away.

“Raine, I didn’t mean-”

The wave of emotion froze over like a river in winter, and Raine was silent for a long moment before her eyes turned cold. When she spoke, her voice didn’t carry its usual warmth, but was instead flat and harsh like ice.

“I worked my ass off travelling across the continent to find a way to save you when I didn’t even know if it was possible, and I come back just to learn you’ve spent a year playing librarian?” Her tone was deathly still as she turned on her heel, barely sparing a sharp glance over her shoulder. “I thought you would have done the same for me.”

Before Kade could even utter an apology, she mounted the horse in one swift movement and took off, leaving him alone with regret festering in his heart as the coloured banners above swayed in an empty breeze.

Further south near the forests surrounding Riverbend, an ominous shadow was cast on the ground far larger than any cloud as a great beast soared overhead, the beating of its wings like the rolling of distant thunder.

And somewhere in an old stable, a wooden toy sword laid, burning.

#cfwc fics of the week #choices fic writers creations #blades of light and shadow #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #choices stories you play #raine nightbloom #kade #kade of riverbend

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