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hayatheauthor · 8 months ago

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I feel a factor that largely contributes to the lack of success for self published or ‘unconventional’ authors is the general readers' growing lack of appreciation for literature.

Most readers, and publishers for that matter, now only look at a book's tropes and marketability rather than the actual writing and plot. Tropes were created as something that would help us easily find the perfect read, and yet they've now become something that defines a book.

The saddest part is we've not only lost appreciation for good writing but developed an aversion to literary comprehension.

People now seek to completely cut down on description and 'painting a scene' or character development and jump straight into the action. Prose is now seen as 'boring filler chapters' while the fight--the chase, the action, are highlighted. It's like going to a museum and complaining about how old everything is.

We've become impatient, unappreciative readers who care little for the emotional nuances of a beautifully crafted scene.

The genre that is most heavily impacted by this is romance. Romance used to be such a beautiful, emotionally evocative genre and now it's just watered down to its trope. People use romance as a way to escape from reality and fantasise about fictional men, which is acceptable, sure, but by doing so they've completely forgotten how to appreciate a book and its story.

Have your dark brooding morally grey love interest but also consider what makes him so. Rather than seeking a venereal connection with the character, look for an emotional one with the book and its beautiful prose and writing.

This is also why readers nowadays often complain about 'mainstream' authors not being that talented. This isn't because there aren't any talented authors with beautifully crafted books out there, it's because you're so caught up in a book's tropes and popularity you fail to acknowledge its true beauty, because by doing so you would recognise there are many other, unappreciated, novels that deserve that platform.

#hayatheauthor #haya: talks #at this point i'm just rambling but this needs to be said #it's not that there aren't any good authors left #but that there aren't any good readers willing to truly appreciate your book #writing community #writer things #writer community #author talks #author things #romance books #romance novel #romance writing #romance club

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heavenlyraindrops · 1 month ago

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The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter Four

also available on AO3 and Quotev | visit first tag to find the other chapters | warnings: pre-s1 (for now), profanity, child death, mentions of blood and injury, smoking

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter Four:

Silco and Vander had been getting into fights.

You didn’t know how it had started, or why. You’d assumed it had to do with the resistance. At least none of them had gotten physical- but then again, how could you tell exactly where the bruises on both men came from? Your peaceful talks with Silco had turned into angry rants.

Both of you lying on the all-too familiar roof, you scooted closer to him, pressing your head into his shoulder. He did his usual motion- tense, relax, then melt into the touch- with the welcome addition of his hand flying to your head, fingers running through your locks. You let out an involuntary sigh.

“-and he just starts yelling. I don’t understand…”

You’d learned to half-tune out his rambling, staring at the sky.

“…and it clearly upsets Alice-“

You sat up straight, twisting your body to lean over him. “What?”

He looked up at you in surprise. “I said, it upsets Alice.”

Your hand was digging into his shirt, bunching up with fabric angrily. “How?” Your voice was stiff. His hand moved to your arm.

“Nothing, she just… it gets loud sometimes…”

You almost hit Silco right then and there, and you could tell that he could tell. You scowled, eyes blazing as a torrent of admonishments poured from your mouth.

“You two better not fucking…”

“…it’s not…”

“…upsetting her over some stupid-“

“It’s not stupid- look I’m sorry…”

“You better be.” Breathing heavily, you ran your fingers through your hair. “I left her with Vander so she’d be safe, not so that she could witness you two having a screaming match.”

“Hardly screaming,” he muttered, trying to pull you back into his shoulder. You chuckled at the action.

“Someone wants cuddles.”

He pulled a face. “Cuddles?”

You laughed and smacked his shoulder. “Idiot,” you managed to force out in between giggles, and he watched you, unimpressed. He flinched as you buried your head back into the crook of his neck, still shaking with laughter. Relaxed. Melted into the touch.

“You’re an idiot.”

Your laughed subsided into comfortable silence. He broke it.

“I’m sorry. We’ll find a way to resolve this.” He was referring to him and Vander. “We shouldn’t be upsetting Alice.”

You hummed, simply nestling into him. You could feel his heart thumping. “Thank you.”

“The things I do for you, hm?”

You raised your head, lips just barely brushing his jaw, as he pulled out a cigarette and placed it in between his lips before looking at you expectantly. You produced your lighter and flicked it open, watching as he held the end of the cigarette over the open flame you held out for him.

The lighter snapped shut as he tipped his head back to take a drag, and blew the smoke to the sky. His other arm rested around you comfortably.

“The things you do for me,” you laughed breathlessly, resisting the urge to kiss him senseless.

The arguments had not stopped.

Not only had Alice mentioned them to you at home, but Felicia had voiced her concerns during the every-now-and-then moment she’d really have a proper conversation with you.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with them,” she’d whisper quietly. “They used to be really tight. And now…”

You didn’t press. It was a situation where you felt you weren’t welcome to meddle. So you took Alice home with nothing but a concerned purse of the lip, a sympathetic look, and a nervously quick-beating heart, stomach churning with dread.

Silco came to you less frequently, or maybe later than usual, usually in a sour mood. Despite his inconsistencies you stayed reliable, waiting for as long as he needed you to- even if he didn’t show up at all. If he did, his bad mood would lift within a few minutes. Surprisingly, he’d stopped talking about him and Vander’s arguments. And you no longer wanted to talk about them either.

Time passed. Felicia’s daughter was born. Things became more peaceful.

The sky has begun growing darker earlier, marking the beginning of winter. After another evening of Silco being a no-show, you slid off of the roof and made your way to the Last Drop.

The door creaking open, you frowned. It was almost empty, save for a frazzled looking Felicia trying to hush a baby in the corner. Panic started rising in your throat as you made your way to her.

“Felicia.” She looked up at you, and you say her face was twisted with worry. “Where is everyone?”

“Preparing.” Trying to hush Violet proved a futile task. You had to speak over her screams.

“Preparing for what? Where’s Vander? Why is Violet crying?”

Felicia screwed her eyes shut, and Violet’s meltdown subsided a little. “Nothing, just… there was an argument.”

You immediately dragged your hands across your face, stumbling back, immediately sick of what she was about to say. She ignored you and continued, shaking.

“They were both storming out when I got here. Everyone else is preparing for the uprising on the bridge.” Her voice dropped low.

You whirled around and slammed your hands on the bar top, making her flinch. “What uprising?”

“There’s going- there’ll be an uprising on the bridge, soon.”

“And no one told me about this?” You were seething. Violet screeched louder, and you turned violently, putting your hands over your ears as Felicia shakily shushed her.

“You aren’t part of the resistance. Heck- you’re barely even part of the Lanes.”

At her words you had to fight to keep the fury from bubbling over. Charging towards her, you grabbed her shoulders tight, nails digging into her skin.

“Where the fuck is Alice.”

“I don’t know,” she choked out. At this, you left out a muffled, terrified scream, swallowing it with the back of your hand.

“She isn’t meant to go outside,” you whispered, your hands sliding across your face to cover your mouth. Felicia looked at you, confused and scared. At your sudden silence even Violet had stopped making any noise, instead burying herself into her mother’s embrace.

“Why not? I mean, you were pretty adamant about it, but you never told us why,” she said carefully.

You tore your hands from your face. “Because the enforcers could be looking for her!”

Felicia looked at you in shock.

Tears welled in your eyes as your hands shook. “She can’t go outside alone yet.”

Felicia didn’t say anything, just wrapped her hands further around Violet and curled over. You didn’t say anything back; your heavy, frantic footsteps echoed around the empty bar and the door slammed as you left to go search for your daughter.

The crowd in the street was heavy, and all going in one direction- towards the bridge. You pushed through, eyes frantically scanning the crowd. You knew you wouldn’t find her there, however. Passer-bys conversations drifted in and out of your ears.

“…commotion with the enforcers. I hope this won’t affect the rising…”

You turned and grabbed the woman by the shoulder. She looked at you in shock.

“What commotion?” You hissed. She didn’t say anything, frozen to the spot, when a man came and prised your hand off of her and pointed in a certain direction.

“They say they saw enforcers attacking a child,” he said gravely, “Just the street before the river.”

He didn’t have to say any more. You turned and fled.

This part of the undercity was more quiet. You marked the rushing of water- and remembered the first time you’d met Silco.

You could hear heavy breathing.

Enforcer masks.

Small whimpers.

Alice’s voice.

Panic and anger surged through you as you burst into the street.

“Let go of her!” You screamed.

The enforcer grabbed the back of your neck, shoving you into the wall. The second he released you, you lunged towards Alice, grabbing her and drawing her close. She was completely battered.

“Why are you doing this to her?” You cried, covering her ears. “She’s a child.”

The enforcer looked at you. “And who exactly are you?”

“I took her in,” you said fiercely, holding the shaking girl tighter. The Pilties looked at each other, and you recoiled, knowing you’d said the wrong thing.

“You took her in, knowing that she was being chased by the law. You harboured a wanted child.” His voice was even.

“Child,” you gasped. “She’s a child.” You clasped your hands together. “Look, I-I didn’t know. Please just let her be-“

A kick rammed you against the wall. You lost grip on Alice, who was dragged up by the second officer. The first one grabbed you and put his hand over your eyes.

“Kill the girl,” he said.

“N-!” You opened your mouth to scream but he clamped his hand over your mouth. From in front of you, a simple crack, whimper, then a thud. You went limp. He dropped you to the floor, and you blinked blearily, shaking. Alice’s body lay before you.

You cursed under your breath, scrambling towards her, unaware of the eyes watching you.

“Leave her,” the mask-muffled voice said. “We got rid of what we needed to.” He looked up. “We’re needed at the bridge.”

Their heavy footsteps left the street, fading around the corner as you silently sobbed, shoulders shaking. Gathering Alice in your arms, you brushed her hair from her face.

“No,” you whispered. “No.” Your hand was warm at the back of her head, and when you withdrew it it was covered in blood. The word Alice said was barely audible.

“Mom.”

This broke you, and you descended into a whirl of sobs. “No, no no no no.”

You didn’t know for how long you cried- you just knew it was well past the time you daughter grew cold in your arms. Ran dry of tears, you could feel unconsciousness calling you.

Another set of heavy footsteps down the street- only one person this time. You barely regarded it as you slipped into the darkness, curled over the corpse of one of the only two people you cared about.

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