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anohai · 1 year

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A big issue with Seyka’s character arc in Burning Shores...

*clicks tongue* Fuck it.

I debated over writing this out and posting it. Decided I might as well for not only my personal catharsis, but because it's been over 3 weeks since Burning Shores came out, I have had the time to mull things over more, talk with some friendly people who came to the some of the same conclusions I did, and really analyze everything. I’ve seen a sprinkle of other people expressing something similar to what I am about to cover, but I felt this deserved its own topic of conversation.

And forewarn, there be spoilers.

Of course, we're back to Seyka. I promise I'm not trying to pick on her. She actually has loads of potential, and I don't think she's a bad character. It's just she deserved better than what was shown in her overall character arc.

Last time, I wrote about the Seyloy romance, and why it is difficult (for some more than others) to feel good about it. This critique isn't going to be about that again in case you are wondering if I'm simply yelling louder in the echo chamber, but there will be some correlation to it. The more I played the DLC, the more I realized that while I still wasn’t sold on the romance, it wasn’t the root of why something felt off with Seyka’s story to me. So once the adrenaline of having a new shiny DLC to run around in wore off and was able to properly take my time soaking things in, this was the conclusion I came to:

The biggest issue with Seyka's entire character arc is that they tried way too hard to make her near-exile situation comparable to Aloy's when it very, very much is not.

In any capacity whatsoever. As to why?

Seyka tells us at one point that she loves her tribe, her community, and has always felt she's had a place in it until recently. The reason she's in any hot water at all when we meet her is because she ran off and stole a diviner's focus. Seyka is a marine, not a diviner so we know this is considered a huge taboo among the Quen. They are a sovereign tribe with a classicist system where the people are allowed to know only what is deemed necessary based on their role and/or rank. Should rules be broken, we are left to assume based on our conversations with Alva and even interactions with the Ceo & Overseer Bohai in HFW that the royal family and those in charge are imposing & unforgiving enough that normally there are severe consequences.

Luckily for Seyka, this isn't the case.

The first time we follow her back to Fleet's End, we're met with those who are referred to as Compliance Officers who are wanting a nasty word or two with our new friend. We are brought to Admiral Gerrit, the real person in charge, and he is....actually quite understanding of Seyka's actions. He gives her a quick verbal slap on the wrist but proceeds to give her full permission to continue her search for her sister and their other missing people with the stolen focus on hand. He's humble enough to tell Aloy in a private conversation afterwards if you choose to talk to him that their faction of the expedition has been spread thin enough as it is and Seyka has already proven herself to be a valuable and skilled member. Enough so that he admits he’s become increasingly reliant on her regardless of only being a petty officer in title. This assessment is fair and kind. It’s more than I would have expected out of someone with such a high position among the Quen of all tribes.

Seyka is given a huge safety net thanks to this swell guy. The compliance offers themselves can't do anything, and from what we see in the side quests, they are seemingly nothing more than a few school-yard bullies without any real authority to their position. They are annoying & petty at worst. All bark, no bite. As far as the rest of the Quen go, most individuals we come across seem either pretty cool or neutral with Seyka. It's not until later that we get any indication there are some who are calling for her exile afterall, but we only know this because we hear it from Seyka instead of seeing it happen. People are talking, as they will, and she's furious about it.

But really....the threat still isn't there. It never was. At least not to the extent I think we are supposed to believe it was.

All things considered, Seyka was placed in a very privileged, advantageous position amongst those in her tribe. Along with the lack of visible threat, there is never any real tension shown minus a few grumblings expressed in the background when we first arrive in Fleet’s End. And despite how Aloy perceives her, Seyka isn’t exactly a black sheep here. Especially when you consider she never had any personal turmoil with the rest of her tribe until not long before the events of Burning Shores and happily tells you herself she has always felt like she’s belonged. She's pretty much allowed to do what she wants without much pushback, and I found myself rolling my eyes during the final scene where she says she's unsure of where she stands with her tribe. Seyka is not an outcast, and I, for one, was never convinced or afraid she was at real risk of becoming one.

Which makes this all the more confusing when Aloy says she's an inspiration. An outcast in all but name. I'm willing to chalk some of this up to hormones talking and Aloy's growing infatuation taking a choke hold as most first time crushes will do. Except the problem here is that the writing clearly felt like we were meant to connect Seyka's strife with Aloy's on some level; carry the same sympathy for her that Aloy expresses, and see more of where their similarities hold up.

And yet...

I felt more for Kotallo who was kicked from his initial clan because his leader saw him as a threat and then later, might as well have gotten demoted for losing an arm because his tribe sees him as near useless for it..

And Zo who lives among the most pacifist, peace-loving tribe and was admonished when she not only went to fight back in the Red Raids, but wanted to do something about the blight and their broken Land Gods..

And Talanah who had to fight against blatant sexism that many carry in her tribe and an actual attempt for her murder all because she wanted to move up in the Lodge and make things better..

And Aloy, herself, who was outcast at birth for simply being born without a mother. And spent her entire life with only the man who raised her for company. In one small valley. For 19 years. Because there was no choice for her.

But somehow, we're supposed to see Seyka the same way Aloy does? Like no one she's ever met??

I...Really?

I'm sorry, but I don't buy this rebel fighter, near-outcast ploy here. And saying she's unlike anyone Aloy has ever met feels like a slap in the face to not only Aloy, herself, but to some of her companions we have come to know & love in the first two games. Most of whom I'd argue have been through more hell because of their own tribes long before they even met her. Seyka's plight is trivial, inconsequential in comparison and no where near as crippling as Aloy's was or her friends. It's honestly frustrating that it feels suggested it is.

What's worse is that this plotline is used as one big narrative tool to bring Seyka and Aloy closer on standing grounds outside of ability and personality. This essentially means Seyka and her entire character arc were written for the sole purpose of the romance. A character built for Aloy to quickly fall head over heels for and add progress in her own arc. I wrote last time that I can see this growth as an opportunity to explore romance further for Aloy with a pre-established character or two in H3. If I’m right & that happens to be the heart-wrenching, long-term, master plan Guerilla is going for, they have my applause (and my stress). Great for Aloy. In my opinion though, being created to be a love interest (lasting or not) for the main hero is a bit unfair to Seyka.

She's clever, she's badass, and she isn't afraid to take action without permission and help where she can. Next to Aloy, however, she stands as a self-reflection of her. A spotless mirror as to who Aloy could have been had she grown up under a community as well. I would love to see Seyka break out on her own as an individual character that isn't in the context of romance if ever given the opportunity.

Heck, if Guerilla wanted to in the eventuality they will be finished with Aloy's story, the Quen have easy potential to have an entire spinoff game revolved around them. We have a whole side quest in BS where a small group of Quen want to sneak focuses to non-diviners for the sake of knowing what's usually kept hidden from them. Hello, is that the beginnings of a rebellion, I see? And the world of Horizon has yet to be explored in places outside of the North American continent. Other tribes, different machines, more Old World locations, etc. Loads of potential everywhere. And guess what!? We practically have a budding main character on a silver platter: Seyka! She obviously has big enough main character energy. Might as well utilize it outside of a DLC if you can, and I don't mean for the next game.

It's hard say for sure whether or not Seyka will remain a DLC character. No matter what fans say, the ending was left ambiguous. Not only because of the romance but also where Seyka's future lies. She knows about Nemesis, yet she tells Aloy she's unsure of what she wants to do after her faction reunites with the other half in San Francisco, whether it's going home or something else. I would think if Guerilla had solid plans to include her in H3 while they were developing Burning Shores, they would have written the ending where she either offers to stay behind in Legacy’s Landfall for a time like Alva does or Aloy asks for her aid to help fight against Nemesis. Something to make it more clear she's here to stay. We don't though, so as far as anyone outside of Guerilla is currently aware, Seyka is not guaranteed to play a big part in H3 if any at all. And remember, DLCs are meant to be an extension of the main game and are primarily optional. They are typically not a requirement for playing the next big installment as far as understanding the story goes.

If she does show up in H3, the only thing I dread is the idea of her coming up and saying she's basically denounced her tribe because she still feels out of place and doesn't think she can belong afterall. Not to mention she has her sister, and after what happened with Kina, it would be a really bad look if she just decided to permanently leave her behind when her tribe isn't or never was trying that hard to push her away in the first place. And Seyka said it herself. She’s “not some weak-kneed sailor who abandons ship when the seas get rough,” and I’d like to believe she means it. It'd be one thing if she actually is forced into exile, but after the events of the DLC, she has too good of a repertoire for that to happen now. At least while she's outside of Quen homelands.

(Btw, don't even get me started on Aloy's convo with Kina over "remember Seyka's been through a lot too" as if we didn't just rescue this poor girl from A CULT and nearly groomed into becoming this centuries-old dude's image of his dead wife. Like honey, I know you're in love but have some thought & tact here.)

That’s about it. I will reiterate that as a character, I do actually like Seyka. As a self-imposed outcast? No. As Aloy’s love interest? That…needs some serious work. But as an individual who loves her tribe but will fight for what she believes in even if it means going against the royal, societal grain? Absolutely! And special kudos to Kylie Liya Page for bringing her to life.

Also, if you want to read a review that summarizes everything I just ranted about better than I could manage, along with everything good and not-so-great when it comes to the DLC, I recommend this essay here by ariseis.

If you made it to the end of this long rant, thanks for reading~

#horizon #horizon forbidden west #horizon zero dawn #hfw #burning shores #hfw burning shores #horizon forbidden west burning shores #seyka #burning shores spoilers #burning shores critique #guerilla

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ladyhindsight · 2 months

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So recently I fell back down the rabbit hole that is the Shadowhunters series about five years after I finished all the available books with City of Heavenly Fire. While The Mortal Instruments and The Infernal Devices haven’t really stuck significantly in my mind until I stumbled across your critiques of City of Lost Souls, it is a different story with The Dark Artifices. In a very bad way. Trite writing, a weird focus on features considered “exotic” (Emma’s blonde hair, Julian’s blue-green eyes, etc), generally poor character writing, the standard faire of issues that come from CC’s writing. But in particular I remember having issues with Ty Blackthorn and how his autism was portrayed, as someone who was professionally diagnosed. From what I recall from his arcs (specifically in QoAaD) a lot of his actions felt steeped in vainglory, him being confused about Kit leaving with Tessa without saying goodbye after heavily hurting Kit emotionally during the attempt to resurrect Livvy is the foremost example I can think of. It honestly really fucked with me when I first read it and made my internalized ableism a lot worse, something I am still trying to get over even now, as it made me afraid that is how other people saw me due to being on the spectrum. All that aside though, I wanted to ask you, since you generally are more familiar than CC’s work than I due to reading it at a more recent time, if people do consider Ty to be good autistic representation, and why or why not that may be. I want to know if my malice for Ty and what felt like an extremely offensive and, dare I say, borderline stereotypical portrayal of autism is just me being a bitch or if it is a common complaint amongst those willing to criticize Clare’s work.

Sorry if that was a massive fucking word salad I’ve been meaning to ask someone this question for almost half a decade after reading QoAaD😭😭

THE BLACKTHORN EYES. You shan’t forget. It’s been five years since I read Queen of Air and Darkness and I haven’t.

I find it difficult to assess to some degree how good a specific representation is. As to Ty, I’ve seen readers being incredibly happy with him and then vice versa like you. The difficulty lies in the way I think it’s misleading to look for general assertions in characters like Ty. How could you possibly represent a whole group of people that exists on a spectrum with varying degrees of symptoms that manifest in wide variety of ways with just one character? Another facet to the difficulty in assessing the quality of representation (Ty’s or in general) is that I hardly, if at all, identify with or like characters based on some traits they possess rather than how the character is in general, how the character works within the story, and what their dynamic is like with the other characters. The impression of a character is created in interaction with all the other elements of the book.

Ty is just one individual, and I’ve never looked at him as anything other than him being a representation of who he is, not what other people with autism generally are. Ty was based on a son of Clare’s friend, so I’d feel weird completely denouncing Ty's character, especially as someone not on the spectrum. Then again we all know how badly Clare translates real life stuff into her works and her writing, so… That being said, there are certain characteristics—I mean there has to be for a diagnosis even to exist or to be made—that need to be present. And those present with Ty, as you said, seem borderline if not exactly stereotypical.

What I am trying to say is that in and of itself and completely separate from the other elements, I don’t think Ty is the worst written character. My issue with Ty’s representation lies in its utilization in the story. For years now, Clare’s inclusion of different issues (social, societal, psychological, medical, neuropsychiatric etc.) has seemed more performative than genuine, which is relayed by the fact that the stories do not really focus on these issues, but mostly sidesteps them in favor of some boring aspect to the main romantic relationship. What truly then infuriates me, is treating what is supposed to be that representation almost as the sole aspect to that character, completely over-saturating their existence with this one (in this case) disorder, and then use it as a tool to elevate other characters.

The problem is glaring when Ty doesn’t live outside of that fact that he has autism but rather becomes the embodiment of it (especially considering there are no other characters with autism included in the series). People are more than their disorders, and though they are massive parts of everyday lives and sources of serious struggles to some people, reducing someone’s existence to just that is not it. Ty was there for the purpose of elevating Julian’s devotion and care for his family, to emphasize the love he has and the lengths he would go to in order to protect them. Clare wrote in one of her answers that she was glad people picked up on Ty’s autism, but how could they not? It was pushed into almost every scene he was in just so the readers would take notice. Clare does not know subtlety or subtext or have any sense of proportionality for which the writing was excessive.

You’re not a bitch lol, and what you said here is a common criticism from what I’ve ever seen. I don’t think you really need my take on whether to hold onto your malice (just offering my winding perspective here, bon appétit), since here you have justified and reasoned your opinion and feelings about Ty completely appropriately. Though it’s been years since I’ve interacted with anything to do with Clare’s fans or their opinions other than book reviews, I’ve found that the readers who tend to praise her writing rarely have such distinguished reasons for why so.

Word salads are always welcome. I feel like I’m offering you one in return. :’)

#Ty Blackthorn #The Dark Artifices #Anti Cassandra Clare #Reply

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firstprince-ao3feed · 3 months

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To Hands Between Legs To Whatever it Takes To

by sunflowerjpg “Okay, teen pop star sensation Henry Fox. What demon is keeping you awake at this time?” You, he wants to answer sincerely but admitting he’d just gotten off to videos of Alex touching his chest seductively would earn him a restraining order, probably. Instead, he chooses to say, “I always feel a bit peckish after a show. It’s hard labor.” “Sure, I get it. Strutting on stage in heels and shaking your little ass for millions night after night sounds exhausting.” “I quite think you like my arse, darling. You had no problem smacking it around in front of those millions and the many more who saw it online.” Henry bites back, just a bit defensively. “To be fair, every time I’ve seen your ass there has been too much fabric in the way. I’d need to get close and personal to give an unbiased assessment.” “Oh, wouldn’t you just like that, hm?” Henry aims for teasing but he’s got flashes of being naked in front of Alex and being worshiped in his mind’s eye, so he thinks he misses the mark a bit. Alex’s eyes widen slightly and he visibly gulps. “Yeah. I would. Are you offering?” — Inspired by Troye Sivan’s One of Your Girls performance. Words: 9577, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Percy "Pez" Okonjo, June Claremont-Diaz Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Pop Stars, Alex Claremont-Diaz is Not First Son of the United States, Non-Royal Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Pop Star Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Dancer Alex Claremont-Diaz, First Meetings, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has a Crush on Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Anal Sex, Mirror Sex, Falling In Love, Bottom Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Top Alex Claremont-Diaz, Face-Fucking, Spanking, based on the troye sivan performance of one of your girls, Henry Fox Has a Dumptruck, Alex Claremont-Diaz is an Ass Man, One Night Stands, but not really, Strangers to Lovers via https://ift.tt/MxNYOWB

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #red white and royal blue #rwrb #firstprince #sunflowerjpg

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stardustfanfare · 1 year

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I’m going insane over here. Ok. Strap in. I’ve got a lot to say.

I’ve already made a couple posts about this but the thoughts are running rampant in here and I think I’ve got some more in depth topics I want to get into this time.

(really long post its like 1.5k words so dont click on it if u dont wanna scroll thru all that LOL)

First off, we’ve got the voting system. I have… a lot of gripes about the voting system. I’ll preface this statement with maybe I’m wrong, because I haven’t spent a lot of time interacting with the fandom, but it seems like a lot of people are taking the voting system at face value. The premise is simple, after all. Examine the prisoner, assess their crime, and decide whether you think it was justifiable, right? But there’s a twist, obviously. Your verdicts have a direct impact on the prisoners. And you are speaking through the audience surrogate, the warden at Milgram prison, Es. Es is very interesting to me. Despite being a clear self insert, they absolutely exhibit personality of their own, and thought processes and decisions that aren’t influenced by the audience at all. A perfect unreliable narrator. They aren’t a character at first as much as a lens to see the prison through. From the very beginning, they insist on the same thing: job first, questions later. They’re the warden after all. No time to think about the prison. Now I haven’t read the light novel so I’m sure I could go more in depth on my thoughts on the prison if I had read it, but regardless of that, it’s painfully clear how suspicious the whole situation is. However, the way it’s framed almost makes the prison itself, the warden, and Jackalope fade into the background. It’s kind of brilliant actually. Anyway, you’re voting through Es. But who says Es has the right to pass judgement? Look. No one knows what Milgram is. What their ulterior motives are. What’s ultimately going to happen at the end of the project. According to the light novel, it's happened before, so again, I’m perhaps not the most knowledgeable about this part. But why does Milgram get to decide what to do with the prisoners? It feels awfully hypocritical and potentially dangerous. But the whole project is set up so you have no other choice than to vote. It’s fascinating. You’re led towards the conclusion that Milgram wants you to reach. And your immediate thought is NOT to question it, because it’s a piece of media. Why would it lie?

Alright, bear with me for a minute. You know the original milgram experiment? The one the whole thing is supposedly based on? It's about obedience to authority. Listen to me. I am shaking you guys by the shoulders. It’s about obedience to authority. DOESN’T THAT SOUND LIKE WHAT I WAS JUST TALKING ABOUT. They had people administer shocks to “test participants”. The shocks got higher and higher till near fatal levels. The test participants weren’t actually real, but they found that “every participant [went] up to 300 volts, and 65% [went] up to the full 450 volts.” (Milgram experiment, Wikipedia). The whole video series is like this experiment. I don’t know. You get it. You get the connection. I don’t know how much better I can explain this. You can imagine me jumping up and down and flapping my hands.

Listen to me. If you aren’t looking at it from a meta perspective that’s fine. I get it. Most media I like I just passively engage with. Usually that’s more fun for me. But frankly with Milgram I feel as if not looking at it from a meta perspective makes you just another test participant. Another shock administrator. Another cog in the machine. I see people talk about Milgram’s bad writing sometimes, and, you know, fair. There are subjects not handled with the care they need. I’m not claiming that Milgram is perfect. But I haven’t seen anyone talk about how fucking cool this is. They’ve taken the art form and made it into a mechanism. I think it’s kind of brilliant.

Anyway, essentially what I’m trying to say with perhaps an excessive amount of words is that I don’t think we have the right to pass judgement on the prisoners. From a meta perspective, of course.

Apologies in advance for another interjection. This part is perhaps less relevant to the rest of the post, but it’s so cool that I kinda wanna skim over it anyway. You can skip this part if it's getting too long for you, especially since I already kind of touched on it up there. Es as not only an audience surrogate but ALSO as their own character makes them so interesting. I personally actually hated them for a little while after watching some of the voice dramas. Because they act cruel. And make bad decisions. And say insensitive things. And some of that is seeping in from the audience, but even more interesting to me is that a lot of it is just a result of their environment. They’re harsh and defensive and seem very convinced in their own righteousness, and they come off as a total asshole about it sometimes. But think about it. They’ve woken up in this prison. Fucking insane. But instead of freaking out about it, they begin to cling to their newfound authority. I mean, it’s the most rational thing to do. Like, it’s not a normal thing to do, but it’s rational. It’s easy to make yourself forget about everything else when you fixate on a certain point, so that’s what they do. They don’t seem to think there’s any way out of this besides becoming a willing participant, so they lean real hard into the whole “warden” thing. They’re just as trapped as the prisoners are. I believe there’s an empty cell in the prison. Probably Es’s; It’s not a hard conclusion to come to. Milgram has happened before and my guess is that the prisoners are picked more or less by chance. This has very interesting implications. Either Es is a totally random person, or they’re just like the other prisoners, having taken a life. This would make sense as to why they needed to have their memories erased. This makes the whole thing just that much more hypocritical. But I digress.

And so now we come to my second point. Or maybe third on account of the tangents. The parallels with the other prisoners. Specifically number 03, Fuuta. Fuuta is a really good example of taking things out of proportion. His crime is simple: something along the lines of cyberbullying someone into commiting suicide. So like, yes. Objectively? Shitty. Shitty move. He’s not a great person. 20 year old terminally online gamer. Many people off the bat are not going to like him, and therefore probably vote him guilty. But put that into scale: he did not actively kill the person, nor was his intention to cause death. Which is not to say he wasn’t in the wrong. But consider it; we’ve got this weird suspicious prison complex. And we’ve got some loser online. And then there’s the immediate consequence. Now we didn’t know Kotoko was going to go crazy, but regardless of that, that was the consequence of us voting Fuuta guilty. Now he’s literally missing an eye for the crime of… being mean online. So clearly some people started to think about this (hence his innocent vote in trial 2). He’s a crack in the facade, or something of the sort. Apply pressure, dig a little deeper, and it starts looking like, well, the stuff I’ve already said.

But more than that is the realization that Fuuta really has just been taken and put into this prison. He’s a normal person, who has behaved in a less than ideal way, but still a normal person, put into this absurd situation. And you know who else is like that? Well, everybody, but specifically Es. I genuinely do not think there will be a happy ending for anyone unless Es begins to realize this. Which means the audience beginning to realize this. The “innocent” and “guilty” votes don’t really mean anything. Or, they do, because they’ve been assigned value, but the person assigning value to them is, once again, Milgram. Or Jackalope, I suppose, assuming he is the guy behind the whole thing. Maybe I’m preaching to the choir. Maybe you guys have already considered this. But it’s been bouncing around my head all day and I was going a bit crazy over it and I had to get it out.

TLDR; I think the whole voting system is rigged in the favor of the prison itself rather than the prisoners, I don’t think that, as Es, we get to decide who is and who is not “guilty”, Milgram Project itself seems an awful lot like the experiment(not the content of the media, but the interactivity of it), and Es has probably done something bad in order to be in the prison in the first place. The key takeaway from this is that I’m actually really normal and pumping out 1.5k words in 2 hours because of this media is an average and usual thing to do.

#some of this probably doesnt make sense but whatever #pleeease if u have any thoughts or disagreements i want to hear them #milgram #milgram project #milgram theory #junebug season #long post #bleeeuhi typed all this out in 2 hrs #milgram spoilers #junes milgram posting tag

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hannahssimblr · 10 months

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Chapter One

“Okay girls, turn over your papers now.”

The whole hall fills with the sound of rustling paper as sixty of us flip over English Paper One in tandem. I take a deep, shuddering breath and read the first question.

SECTION 1. TEXT 1. This text is taken from An Irishwoman’s Diary by journalist, Lara Marlowe. She was Irish Times correspondent in Beirut and Paris, and is now based in Washington. Here she responds to an article critical of cats written by her friend and fellow journalist, Rosita Boland.

I read the article. Then I read the questions. Then I read them again. From my seat at the back of the hall I glance up the aisles of students, most of them already writing something. I hold my pen over the blank, lined page in front of me, my hand trembling slightly as I write down Question 1. Then I hesitate, I try really hard not to panic and then I read all the questions one more time.

Claire, who is one aisle over and three desks from the front, turns around slowly, knowing she’s not allowed to look at anybody else but does anyway, checking first that the examiner isn’t watching her. Her eyes widen to saucers and she shakes her head at me in disbelief. “What the hell is this?” She mouths, and I shrug. We’ve already talked about this. Neither of us is going to do well in our Leaving Cert, it’s not just speculation. It’s fact, and I’ve never been more convinced of it now as I sit in this hot room, day one, paper one, question one, and I can’t even think of how to begin.

It had all seemed a lot funnier a few weeks ago when we agreed upon how ill prepared we were. Claire has never done well academically, in fact I’m almost sure she’s got undiagnosed dyslexia, even though her proud-as-punch parents refused to have her assessed even after the guidance counsellor practically begged them to. Meanwhile I spent the whole year in the art room working on my portfolio instead of joining the after school study group, mostly because Kelly was doing it, but also because I haven’t been in the headspace. It’s been a strange year. Now though, on this bright June morning with a three and a half hour exam ahead of us, nothing seems that funny anymore and the choices I’ve made throughout the year seem to be nipping at my heels. The terror in Claire’s eyes illustrates exactly how I feel. I’m not sure how we’re going to get through nine more of these truly harrowing papers, but I know that I have to try. I put my head down and start writing something – anything at all.

When we finally spill out of the hall that afternoon I feel like my body is made from rubber. Claire and I console one another outside the doors, arms around one another in defeat.

“That was awful.” She complains. “I’ve failed.”

“You haven’t failed. Nobody fails English.”

“I’ll be one of the few that does.”

I let her go and start digging around the bottom of my bag for my keys. “Let’s go to Starbucks. We’ll get chai lattes and try to make ourselves feel better.”

Right then Kelly comes sweeping out of the hall, her new best friend Cristina at her side. She’s one of those mousy brunettes who wears her school bag straps tightened all the way, and has a particular fondness for horses. I’ve seen her show jumping at the agricultural fairs before, and I’m convinced she’s the one behind the fan page on Facebook that’s been set up for herself and her horse Barney. It’s just a stream of photographs of her on the horse with weird captions like Cris and Barney looking fab! I distinctly remember Kelly complaining about how strange she was before, but now here they are, joined at the hip, and I know purely because she needs to have someone in her corner. It doesn’t even matter if she likes her or not.

“That was so easy.” Kelly says loudly. “I thought they’d at least make paper one a bit of a challenge, but it was a breeze. I’ve never felt more confident” She’s trying very hard not to look at either Claire or me, thinking she’s being sly, but Claire gives my ribs a little nudge with her elbow and I know that we’re going to be laughing about this over coffee in about ten minutes. Kelly thinks these types of statements are devastating to our psyche, but when we’re together she holds no power over us anymore, even if sometimes when I’m alone I remember the fun we used to have. She wasn’t always awful, she wasn’t always mean, and there’s times that I feel sad for what’s been ruined, but I’d never ever admit those things out loud.

Claire and I leave the school building and climb into my car. I can drive now. I passed my driving test in April, much to her delight, because now that Shane is away at college she needs someone to transport her wherever she wants to go. My car isn’t very good, actually, it’s my dad’s car, and it’s from 1995. The shine has worn off the paint so that it’s this weird, matte, chalky texture, so it’s not good looking, but it’s better than nothing at all in a town that doesn’t even have public buses. We spend so much time in this car, just driving around and talking and eating McFlurries. We used to talk about boys a lot. She’d tell me all about Shane and what he was doing and how she felt about it, about how weird it was to be away from him and to not ever really know what he was doing up there in UCD.

“Studying science.” I’d always tell her jokingly.

“Yes, but what else? Did you see all the hot girls they had in the prospectus?”

“And he isn’t looking at any of them. If he was, he’d be some fool.”

“He’d be a dead man.”

“Any messing from him and we’ll drive through campus and plough him down.”

“I love how you always have my back.”

She listened to me talk about boys for a while too, but it was really only ever one boy. It was fun while it lasted, going into depth about all these tiny details like the way the muscles in his arms moved when he changed gears in his car, the curve of his nose bridge from his side view, the exact places where he put his hands and the way he turned his head when he kissed me, but after a while she began to get bored of hearing it.

“You know, there are other fellas out there.” She started saying. “The world is filled with hipster-y arty type boys, you just have to go out and look for them.”

“I don’t want other boys.” I’d said. “I want him.” And I did. I still do, even though we don’t talk to each other anymore. Sometimes, late at night when my head is swirling and I can’t sleep I’ll open up our old email thread from last autumn and read through every message until I reach the last one. It’s from me, sent on the 6th of November, and it says: Happy birthday! I hope you’re going to do something fun today. Do you think your new friends will get you a cake, or maybe take you to a bar? It would be great, and I wish I could be there to celebrate with you. I’ hope that your project is coming along well. I don’t know how you do it, and in German too! Das ist klasse!!! I better try to learn a few words for when I get to visit you. All the best, E.

He never responded, and it feels like my message is still hanging somewhere in the ether, just waiting to be acknowledged, for him to remember that it’s there, to pluck it out and finally type out his response, but I know now that he won’t. Too much time has gone by, and too much has happened. Still, there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that I haven’t thought about him, looked at a picture of him, googled his name.

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#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #fiction #romance #sims 4 storytelling #sims4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 2

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kelleah-meah · 2 years

Video

youtube

50 downtown girl aesthetic room decor ideas 🎸📚🎧

Lately, I’m finding myself a bit fascinated by this “Downtown Girl” aesthetic folks have been talking about for a minute.

Sidenote: It’s kind of weird what people call an aesthetic these days, but hey, at the end of the day, I say that as long as it’s not hurting anyone ... whaddayagonnado?

Anyway, as I’ve mentioned before, growing up, I kind of epitomized the Dark Academia vibe on a budget, but as I grew older, my style shifted away from that and became a bit more bohemian.

Well, it turns out, that’s essentially what the Downtown Girl aesthetic is. I mean, according to what I’ve seen on social media and YouTube, the DG look and decor that came naturally to me through years of personal self-expression and contemporary working poor-economics is the overall result of this particular aesthetic.

Who knew?

Even though I’ve never lived in downtown New York, watched the Gilmore Girls, or planned to become the front woman for a Riot Grrrl tribute band, this aesthetic is a fair assessment of my current style. So color me shocked to learn that it’s considered to be trendy or popular or even a worthy of being called a style.

I’m not going to lie. There’s something very satisfying in that.

Based on this YouTube video by just lanchen, I have about 16 of the 50 items in my home/life that fit the “Downtown Girl” aesthetic room decor style. Those items include:

Headphones (although I rarely wear the big ones outside my house)

Record player/turntable

Vinyl records (half of which are thrifted from Goodwill + some of which I used to put on the wall as decoration in my old apartment)

Poster (just one -- but it’s huge. It’s a poster of my favorite film Amelie.)

Books

Instrument (my violin sits in the corner next to my vinyl records)

Tapestries (I have 2 so far)

Rugs

Painting tools & supplies

CD players & CDs

Candles

Digital alarm clock

Plants (only 2 so far because I do not have a green thumb)

Crystals

Incense & incense fountain (she said incense holder, but I prefer incense fountains instead)

Colorful accent pillows

I honestly don’t know if she truly named 50 ideas in the video, or if each specific one counted as something extra (for example, she recommended certain book titles). Anyway, here are a couple more she mentioned that I’ve been considering for my home for a while now that were also on her list:

Polariod camera

Faux brick wall decor

Easel (because I paint, but for now I just set my canvases against the floor and it’s a bit of a pain)

Either way, I still think this is fairly on the money for me as an accurate description of my style and home decor. Even if I’m not a big fan of graphic tees.

#youtube #downtown girl #downtown girl aesthetic #aesthetics #this is me #style #what is style #home decor #bohemian #bohemian style #boho home decor #brown bohemians #black bohemians

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capth0wdy · 1 year

Text

The fact I even feel a need to be here is wild.

Me “shit talking” you for quite some time has realistically just been me, seeing you say absolutely insane & dark shit about/toward someone over a man you claim did heinous things to you. Judging your reoccurring scary ass behavior when it happens again and again..and again. You, suddenly decide to come for me with some of the most childish insults because you’re upset I’ve made a negative assessment of you for what I feel are pretty fair reasons. It’s the principal of it really my dear, if you’re gonna snap at me at least snap at my current self concerning the situation- just as I do.

Going for the essential “well you’re ugly and gross teehe” route is just..goofy. I’m not gonna sit here and call you anything you clearly aren’t, and especially not 5 years down the line of meeting you once in the comfort of your own home. But what I will do is call a situation as I see it. But thank you. Yes, 2018 wasn’t a great time period for me. Surely I wasn’t in awesome shape but hey, I’m not required to be tip top in my own house. And with what was on my plate at that time I really didn’t owe anyone my best 🤷🏻‍♀️ what’s important is that life was left far behind by the next year and hasn’t been looked back on. So perhaps if you’d like to come for me, do as I do, and speak on present time. Silly insults based on a 1 time meeting 5 years ago? Grasping at straws as you clearly have nothing else that’s actually real to say.

Your friends think you’re better than this behavior, I’d like to believe them. But seriously dude, there’s nothing okay about obsessively fantasizing about someone’s death over a…man. Hm. Do you see why I’m a bit side eyed at you? Be so forreal about it.

I’d also just like to add, I don’t JUST see her posts. If you think I’m dumb enough not to do my own looking into both of y’all’s shit you’re nuts. I’ve seen, I’ve compared. Still thought your end is way out of pocket and mad uncomfortable and generally concerning for the safety of people around you. Who the fuck fantasizes about someone’s death, like actually. Why do you think there was nothing wrong with that and why am I not allowed to make the assessment you’re a bit fucked for that? I’ve damn sure never said some shit like that. It’s not okay dude.

and like I’m sorry but your defense of “well she said she COULD deck me” and shit is just not at ALL in the same realm of what you say to provoke that 💀

im not with her out of any friend loyalty, we’re barely friends. I’m “with” her because I just consistently see awful shit out of you, and a response from her. “Private” blog or not babe you put something out on the public internet and the girl happened to find the shit. It’s out there forever. People are absolutely going to judge that accordingly. Intended private thoughts or not- it’s very fucked up.

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asachuu · 1 year

Text

(3/10)

Part 2: what exactly is Rimlaine?

[List of all parts]

[Part 1]

I’m counting on the fact that some people reading this might not be too familiar with this ship, or perhaps they’re wondering why it gained some noteworthy popularity after Stormbringer’s release to a point I would find this an important essay to write, just in case. For this part, I will try to explain the very basic concept of it, where it seemed to originate and why I think it appeals to others. While detailed recollections of light novel events only come after this section, I must also give a fair warning that from this point onwards, I do expect people to have read both 15/SB novels, at least to understand the vague context of what I will be talking about, or to simply not mind spoilers.

Rimlaine, for those who aren’t that aware, is a ship between Arthur Rimbaud/Randou and Paul Verlaine from BSD. It had a fairly small, niche audience since the release of Fifteen, but has gained quite a fair share of liking compared to its early days since Stormbringer came out. Granted, it’s absolutely nowhere near the levels of ships such as Soukoku or Shin Soukoku, but it certainly is more noticeable nowadays due to SB practically introducing Paul to the story properly, especially if you enter spaces centered around these two light novels or the two characters involved.

Now, what makes this ship appealing to people? In a certain way, I don’t quite know myself. I have never even considered it might be taken this way by the fandom back when I read the first light novel and I wasn’t able to change my mind down the line, either. However, I am somewhat familiar with the “concepts” it seems to portray and have seen some similar, much more beloved equivalents to it in other pieces of media, and I’ve also heard it be discussed many times to a degree I believe I have gained some possible understanding of the community, and thus will try to assess it this way without looking at it through my own lens. A far more detailed assessment will only be in further parts, though.

From the beginning, at the time of Fifteen being the only novel featuring Arthur and a cameo of Paul at the very end in it, the main thing I noticed was that it being so close to an actual, canonical relationship made a handful of people simply accept it as such, which became quite a prevalent talking point in this topic back then. As is obvious from the start, Bungou Stray Dogs is a series with characters based on actual authors, and many noticeably take up more traits after their real-world counterparts than simply sharing a name or their abilities being referred to by titles of their books. In the case of Arthur and Paul, one of these traits could have been the real-life poets’ actual relationship, but this was never confirmed in the story itself, nor even truly mentioned to begin with besides the pair having been “partners” at one point in time. This, unsurprisingly, caught some people’s attention– a few of those simply took it as a fact regarding the BSD characters despite no actual evidence of it, all while another few have not done so explicitly, but still began thinking of it this way due to the implications it had, no matter what the story itself stated and how the characters referred to each other, even back then. Either way, from my personal experience, the vast majority of people interested in the ship at the time always brought this up in one way or another.

I should also mention that a much smaller number have unfortunately seemed to blur the lines of reality and fiction in this area to almost unsettling extents, which I will talk about in a part entirely dedicated to the pair’s real-life counterparts, as it comes hand-in-hand with this topic.

So then, if the real people were in a relationship, isn’t it only natural to assume their namesakes would be too? At least, that’s what I think some of you might be asking now. To that I say yes, but even this has its nuances. I will elaborate on it a bit further later, but the real relationship was nothing short of a toxic, abusive mess, and had the fandom at the time wanted to see something depicting precisely what it was, that would be mostly understandable and not something I would fight against, given what the BSD series is about and how it creates its characters, but I presume many people simply saw the words “were in a relationship” and thought no further of it, especially that it was a queer relationship— a thing I’ve seen a lot of folks wish for in their respective fandoms for a sense of comfort, happiness or visibility. Still, that changes absolutely nothing about how destructive it truly was, and there is nothing wrong with wishing to see the true time it was supposedly based off of, even just to some degree that would have also fit in with the actual plot of the media itself, yet it seemed to me that this was the opposite of the case. The instances I saw someone genuinely not sugarcoat anything or erase whatever information was available to everyone back then regarding both the real and fictional worlds were so rare, I could count them on one of my hands alone.

Now, our lack of canonical information changes vastly in Stormbringer, a novel following Fifteen, released three years afterwards. In it, we get an actual look into Arthur and Paul’s backstory, as well as their time spent together. Personally, this novel only furthered my own views even more, but there are now some points– or rather, fictional tropes– people are relating this ship to. In some way, they do serve as a fair summary of it. I’ve heard it be described as tropes related to a character hating the whole world, yet only loving a single person in it, or two characters who ran out of time and missed their opportunities, even a very skewed “enemies to lovers”, and so on. I suppose I can see some of them too, except only as a mere recollection of the events, nothing else. All these outlines and some more I haven’t mentioned can absolutely be done right, even in the context of romantic ships, this is not to imply something is inherently wrong with them– unfortunately, however, Rimlaine doesn’t strike me as an example of that whatsoever. For some of these, there really is a thin line to be walked between making a tragic, yet healthy friendship/romance/etc., and making something which should not be put on a pedestal in any way. I’m not quite sure where the intentions lay with this pairing as I am not the author of the BSD novels themselves, if there even were such intentions in the first place as I believe it was meant to follow its real-life inspirations, but I’d say they must have been far closer to the latter category, to which they ended up falling entirely either way.

I will add a minor side note here, one I’m continuing from the previous part, I am placing no fault on the creator of BSD nor on anyone else who happens to create this type of content, no matter what it is, as that is a thing I and many others have also done ourselves. Creating a story is one thing, and whether we like it or not, these stories do exist in real life as well and shouldn’t be a secret, taboo topic, but actively taking that story and romanticizing it yourself is another matter, that of which is the part I do not condone.

Nevertheless, following this novel, Rimlaine gained its fair share of popularity, no longer being the ship with fans so far underground one would have to actively dig to find a lot of them. Since we got their canonical interactions, at least to some degree, people could see the way they talked together, worked together and so on. For me, that’d be a major thing I’d closely assess even just thinking about it if this was a pairing that I was already uncertain about, but I don’t think that was the case for many others. I believe, or rather, wish to believe the actual point of interest from there on came from the used tropes themselves and the tragedy it all was destined to be from the very beginning, not so much from the true dynamic between the two. Now, I certainly am not opposed to reading, watching or playing things which are intended to cause nothing but sorrow and I can also see where this appeal comes from, too, but that still doesn’t quite clear everything up. It was intended to be a tragedy, and that’s about it— whether it’s “beautiful” or “lovely”, as some have called it, is solely up to the reader’s personal tastes and opinions, however I absolutely do not believe there’s anything about it to be romanticized, which is what seems to be happening instead of mere appreciation of the story or proper acknowledgement of what occurred to give inspiration to it.

With that said, all the context for my statements, if necessary for the reader, will be provided in the next section in detail. Now, let me begin talking about the novels themselves.

[Part 3, 3.1, 3.2]

#text post #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd fifteen #bsd stormbringer #bsd storm bringer #bsd arthur rimbaud #bsd paul verlaine #rimlaine #asachuu

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Misreflections Part 31- Call Me Y/n

18+ Hawks x fem!reader

Summary: You cannot stand Keigo Takami. You hate his stupid friends, you hate the stupid fan girls that follow him around campus, and you hate his stupid golden eyes that keep watching you during the class you two share. You hate him. You’ve also never actually had a full conversation with him. What’s that thing they say about assumptions again?

Warning for implied major character injury

Link to change (y/n) to your actual name (not mobile compatible)

Masterlist Kofi

Nerves settle in your stomach as you approach the coffee shop to meet Keigo. In all honesty you’re kind of glad it took him a minute to respond to your message. It had given you a little more time to cool down and sort through your thoughts a bit. Still it feels like a lot of that preparation went out the window once you actually stepped inside the building and caught sight of Keigo wrapping up his shift.

He’s got that same old smile on when he talks to his coworker but the minute the other guy turns away it drops. He looks the way you expected him to at the party. There’s bags under his eyes and a heavy set to his shoulders you’ve never seen him have before. You give a little half wave to catch his attention and it takes him a minute to recognize you, eyes widening a bit before giving you a nod. As he moves he does so slowly and when he joins you at a table by the window you swear he winces as he sits down. You’re about to ask him if he’s ok when he speaks up first.

“So you wanted to talk?” he asks hesitantly, shifting in his seat.

“Yea. I didn’t like how our last conversation ended so,” you shrug, clearing your throat.

It’s awkward and you hate it. How is it that things were less awkward when you hated him?

“That was before break even started. Why wait until now?”

“Ah, well, originally I wanted to talk to you the next day. I even showed up at Usagiyama’s party to try and find you,” you confess and you weren’t expecting the way Keigo practically pales.

“Shit that was you,” he groans, dropping his head into his hands, “you saw me with whoever.”

“Yea… I kind of needed some time after that,” you admit and Keigo groans again before lifting his head.

“I’m sorry about that,” he says sincerely but you shake your head.

“You don’t owe me an apology. You had no way of knowing I would be there, it’s not like we were exclusive when we were, y’know, and I hadn’t really given you any reason to think I would care.”

“Still… It hurt you didn’t it?”

You nod.

“Then I’m not sorry for kissing them but I am sorry for hurting you.”

His words hit you hard, your heart beating painfully in your chest. You’d come to apologize to him and yet here he was apologizing when he hadn’t even really done anything wrong.

“That last part is my line,” you tell him wryly, a mirthless smile tugging at your lips.

He leans back in his chair, watching you carefully. He’s got a somewhat shrewd look in his eye, like he’s carefully assessing you, waiting to hear what you’re going to say. It doesn’t help your nerves, but you’re determined to make things right. So you take a deep breath and gather your thoughts before speaking next, wanting to make sure you get it right this time.

“I really liked hanging out with you,” you start, the words coming out almost in a sigh and it makes guilt run through you that he seems genuinely surprised by the words.

“I should’ve expressed that… I didn’t think about how I was making you feel and it wasn’t even fair because it wasn’t even based off of who you are or how you were treating me I just hated this idea of you I’ve made and I-”

You pause to take a breath, centering yourself before making eye contact with Keigo again.

“I shouldn’t have assumed you were like every other rich prick I’ve ever met. I was an asshole and I’m sorry for that and I’d really like an opportunity to start over and actually get to know each other. I'd like to get to know you for real this time,” you finish.

The smile he gives you is a little sad and you feel your heart sink a little bit. Maybe it's too late.

“Thank you for apologizing. I’d like that too,” he admits.

“But?” you prompt.

“But I need a little more time before I’m ready for that. I’ve got a lot on my plate and-”

You raise a hand to stop him.

“You don’t owe me an explanation. If you need time then ok.”

“Ok?”

“Ok.”

You both rise from your seats and it’s awkward again but the air isn’t quite so thick with tension as it was before.

“I look forward to getting to know you Keigo. When you’re ready,” you tell him sincerely.

He gives you the first genuine smile he’s made all day.

“I look forward to getting to know you too (y/l/n).”

“Call me (y/n).”

You both walk out of the coffee shop and part ways with little more than a wave and quiet goodbyes. Things aren't fixed, but they're better.

And for now you'll take that.

A/N: This is short for a written section but it felt complete as is so I didn't want to mess with it by trying to force it to be longer.

Taglist: @moschinski @002opdestiny @quiet-coffee-fighter @nxthernlightsjpg @heroacadema @soft-nitro @marshmallow12435 @simpsfortodoroki @keigobby @nothingtoseehereeee @chims-kookies @supercalafagadocious116 @darlingely @pressedsoul @thewonderbeers @kaleidoscopekai @hitoshislut @sassyglassesbunny @casavafeared @andrastesmoth @fictionalsownme @plaggi @hallothankmas

#hopelessmr #hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #hawks x fem!reader #keigo takami x fem!reader #keigo takami x y/n #keigo takami x reader

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clairecrive · 3 years

Note

can u make a nikolai x reader based on the song mr perfectly fine by taylor swift?

Mr Perfectly fine

A/n: Ahh, thank to you friend, I've been jamming to this song every day lmao Hope I've done it justice x Also, I've left out some parts of the lyrics to make it better fit the story.

(if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist here)

for my other masterlists, you can find them on my navigation page

Word count: more than 7K (ikik it took a life of his own, what can I say)

Warnings: bit of fluff, angst (like a lot), character's death, spoiler if you haven't read Siege and Storm

Tagging: @jupiterandbutterflies (Thank you so much for your comment! I saw it and it made my day✨)

(I don't remember where I took this from so if you know pls lmk)

Most people knew of Nikolai Lanstov. He was a prince, the second born and the most charming. Most people knew him thanks to the countless rumours that went around at court: supposedly he was not of royal blood. "Sobachka" was what they called him.

No matter how though, everyone knew of the last Lanstov prince. But very little knew him.

Meeting him wasn't difficult. Since he had been of age, Nikolai had always been out of the Grand Palace and among people. He’d also volunteered to enlist in the first army, refusing any kind of special treatment and fought beside his brothers in arms in the infantry. That was part of the reason why everyone outside the court loved him so much.

Being Grisha meant that fighting in the Second Army was mandatory. Not that you minded. There was nothing you wanted more for your people than to finally be free. Also, that Shadow Fold needed to go and as the Darkling has always said, all efforts are necessary.

That’s how you met Nikolai the first time. Generally, the First and the Second Army were stationed in different parts of the campsite. Numerous quarrels between oprichniki and Grisha had rendered the separation necessary. However, you never liked crowds much and living in the Little Palace meant that you were always surrounded by people. So, every chance you had to draw away and be by yourself for a while, you took it. Also, being a Healer meant that you’d spent more time in your assigned tent taking care of soldiers than among them.

Word had gone around that everyone in need could come to you. Usually, you had been instructed by the Darkling that your powers were reserved for Grisha. However, what good was it to have the ability to cure people and only take care of a selected few that very rarely got seriously injured? Meanwhile, soldiers of the First Army often suffered from severe injuries, fatal gunshots or knife wounds. You could help them and possibly save their lives so why shouldn’t you?

That was why Nikolai found you one night. Sure at that point it was just another nameless soldier to you. He had never been in your tent before so you had never seen his face before. The boy whose arm he had draped on his shoulders though, was a usual visitor of yours.

“Oh, Petyr, what happened this time?” gesturing to his blond friend to lay him down on the table, you started gathering everything you needed. Not that you needed much but you had found out that Petyr was absolutely incapable of bearing having his bones or injuries in general repaired without having some kind of pain reliever before.

After a few tries, you came up with a herbal composition that dulled the pain but didn’t make him unconscious. Using kvas would mean that Petyr would be knocked out for a couple of hours. That would put him in trouble with his superiors.

“He’s a fool, that’s what happened.” The explanation came from his friend after he put him down gently. Despite his words, you could hear in his tone worry and guilt?

“If saving your life makes me a fool then go ahead and call me one,” Petyr huffed in pain.

“Who knew you were so brave, uh?” After quickly shredding the herbs you needed, you poured hot water on it and brought the cup to Petyr’s lips while helping him keep his head up.

“He’s the bravest of us all,”

“If I knew it took a bullet wound to make you hand out compliments so easily, I would have done it sooner.” Scoffed Petyr after sending you a thankful look.

“See? What did I tell you? A fool,” his friend said dramatically and you smiled amused at their playful banter.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with, shall we?” You said out loud to warn both Petyr and his friend. Letting them know what was about to happen was best, your experience taught you. Both for the person on the table that could brace themselves for what was about to happen and for the person with him that was filled with worry and cautiousness. Oprichniki didn’t trust Grisha that much.

After assessing the damage, you let out a relieved sigh as the bullet had gotten through and it had not hit any major artery. It had already got infected though, so you knew it would be a painful one to treat.

“So, did you receive any letters lately, Pety?” You ask, suggestively wiggling your eyebrows while your hands cover the wound. You had your eyes closed to better focus but you were sure that he had rolled his eyes.

“Only from my mum.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t write her back,” you said, opening your eye just in time to send him a glare.

“Ugh, not this again, y/n, please. Have mercy on me, I’m bleeding all over the table.” Petyr moaned making his friend snicker.

“You’re not bleeding all over the table and if you didn’t notice, I’m already taking care of you, am I not? That doesn’t excuse you for being an idiot, though.”

“Are you two in cahoots or something? It’s not fair. Wounded man over here.”

“Oh shut up.” Both you and his blond friend said at the same time. Petyr moaned once again and you sent a little amused smile to the blondie.

“Should I leave you with a cool battle scar? Maybe acting like a war hero will give you the balls to write to her.” You harmlessly threatened him but your hands were already reconnecting the tissue of his skin without letting it scar.

“I’ve told you, y/n. She deserves better than what I can give her. I am, who knows if I even make it home? I’d be only stringing her along.” Now Petyr was dead serious. It was true, you had talked about this often since he was a regular you got to know him better and he had soon told you about his sweet Katia.

While his friend chanted “fool” like a mantra in the background, you took his bloodied hand in yours, his wound fully healed.

“Petyr, how do you think she’s gonna react when she learns that there hasn’t been any delay to her letters but you’re just ignoring her? Besides, you should let her make this decision too. Who knows, she’ll surprise you.” Squeezing his hand you turned to let your words settle and to put away your utensils. You knew you had given him so much food for thought so you didn’t address the subject anymore. His friend helped him off the table and that’s when you noticed that he was injured too. He had a pretty nasty cut on his lower lip and there was already a bruise forming on his temple.

“Petyr, you can sit on my chair while I take care of your friend. You should be fine but for at least a while don’t stress your body.”

Mentally making a list of the things you need to tend to this kind of wound and where you kept them, you started collecting before heading back to them.

Petyr had sat down but his friend was still standing.

“You don’t have to lie down if you don’t want to, but unless you don’t want me to go take a ladder or something, it would be best if you sat on the table.” You gave him your best reassuring smile as you mixed the healing paste. Sometimes, men didn’t like to put themselves in a vulnerable position with someone they didn’t know and had learned to fear. He wasn’t that badly hurt and it would only take a couple of seconds to fix but not every oprichniki was comfortable with being healed by Grisha power. So the paste would do your job for you. It would take longer, sure and it would also sting a lot more but at least he’d be healed at last.

After looking at you for a little while, the blond man did as you instructed, giving you a dazzling smile in return when you settled between his legs to fix his cut.

“The name is Nikolai or handsome if you prefer.” It was not the first time a wounded soldier tried to flirt with you. IT didn’t bother you, you found them amusing more than anything and you knew it was the allure of someone taking care of them speaking more than any real interest.

“Let’s hope you won’t be around here much for me to learn your name.”

“I’ll have to find another way to make myself unforgettable then.” He winked at you before hopping off the table.

You didn’t address his words, only gave them the paste you had prepared. It would prevent any wound from being infected and would be able to cure small cuts and bruises if applied for a couple of days. With that, you sent them both on their way. Petyr waving you goodbye while Nikolai sent you another wink.

And so this was how it all started.

Mr. "Perfect face"

Mr. "Here to stay"

Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

Everything was right

Despite your fellow Grisha, military life could be a bit alienating. Which sounded like a paradox, sure, but everyone had their own way of processing trauma and emotions and of course there were plenty of those during the war. If the best way to come to terms with everything that happened was to distance yourself from others and try to find the solution in solitude, it could get to the point where you’d feel alone in a room full of people.

To get a little respite, you’d usually go on a long walk or resort to stargaze. Sometimes, depending on where you were posted, it wasn’t safe to leave the campsite. So, that’s how Nikolai found you one night. Even he had to take a breather once in a while. Being a different version of yourself based on who you’re interlocutor was must be exhausting. Of course, you didn’t know this. You knew nothing about Nikolai at that point if not that he was Petyr’s friend and a socialite, according to other soldiers.

He seemed to be at the centre of gossip no matter what group of people you found yourself with and there also seemed to be a consensus about him. Everyone liked him. Even if it was rare for some Grisha to appreciate oprichniki, you knew they somewhat respected him because if they didn’t praise him out loud, they didn’t speak ill of him either.

“Not a fan of crowds, are you?” he announced his presence before sitting down beside you.

“I love them, I really do. It’s just that sometimes it gets too much.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel.”

“You do? Everyone seems to think you’re a socialite.”

“It’s what I want them to think but alas, I enjoy being more complex and multifaceted than that.” He lightly bumped your shoulder with his, eyes aflame with mischief.

“I bet.” you simply smirked. Despite how everyone seemed to think they knew him, you got the peculiar vibe from him, like there was a lot more to him than what he let everyone see.

“No one seems to know much about you.”

“Maybe you’ve talked to the wrong people.”

“Well, then I guess it’s better if I got straight to the source, don’t you think?”

“That will surely be a better start. Not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for though.”

“We’ll see.”

That night had been the first of many. It had become a sort of an unspoken arrangement between the two of you. While it didn’t last long, you sensed that you got to know him better than everyone. There was something about late nights meetings under the stars that prompted deep and meaningful conversations. It wasn’t hard to form a solid bond with him after a few nights.

The conversations weren’t always personal in the conventional sense. You’d often stray and talk about the most bizarre things. Like why something had the name it had or how cool it’d be if it was possible to pass through surfaces, which led to imagine all the uncomfortable situations one could find themselves in if they were to simply go into a room through its wall.

Nikolai was witty, overly confident and ambitious and he knew a lot of things. You always wondered how he had learned them since he was so young and been in the army for a couple of years already. But Nikolai was never too forward on certain topics, his family and childhood being some of those. You understood, those were sore subjects for you too. So you never insisted. It was much more interesting to listen to him rumble about impossible future projects of his, like a flying ship.

"When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable." He’d say whenever you’d point it out to him. Somehow, despite the absolute absurdity of them, the sheer confidence that he seemed to constantly exude, made you consider the possibility of his success.

You got the distinct feeling that there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

But that was when I got to know Mr. "Change of heart"

Mr. "Leaves me all alone," I fall apart

It takes everything in me just to get up each day

But it's wonderful to see that you're okay

But, alas, as all things do, these encounters of yours also got to an end. You knew it would happen, you were both soldiers so your lives were both heavily characterised by uncertainty after all. However, you were not prepared for it to end so abruptly though. And without an apparent reason. Because Nikolai’s unit hadn’t been posted elsewhere and he hadn’t been fatally wounded. You would have heard of it were that the case. But it wasn’t.

You thought that he had come to cherish your nightly encounters too. Some of those had been full of his promises. How he’d love for you to be around when he’d eventually find the time to work on his ideas. How you had been a nice surprise, a most interesting person among so many dull idiots you were surrounded by every day. How he’d come to value your opinions and presence in his life and that he was going to find a way to make sure that that would never change. Promises that turned to be empty.

You had never allowed yourself to fully believe him. It wasn’t the first time that a boy had made the same kind of promises but Nikolai looked sincere. Honest enough to be believable. But, of course, you had been wrong.

You didn’t realise just how much you had come to rely on him until he was gone. You tried to keep your mind off him and luckily the perfect distraction came your way. The Darkling had scheduled an attack on the enemy’s army and had posted you to be on the field to take care of everyone promptly. You had never been more grateful to the man, even after he had given her a home and a purpose.

Ever since your first encounter with Nikolai, you had thought it had been a blessing. However, you had soon changed your mind and now considered a curse more than anything. Why? Because as soon as you got to the field you couldn’t help but scour the troops for a familiar mop of blond hair. Many looked like him and being this far you couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t one of them but you certainly despised the leap your heart made every time though. That was a distraction you couldn’t afford. Besides, it wasn’t smart to let your heart get involved in times of war.

The battle began, Inferni and Squallers were working together to impair the enemy’s visual so they couldn’t shoot or use their cannons while the First Army marched after them to swap in as soon as the air cleared to catch the enemy by surprise. While your role wasn’t active per se, you were a Corporalki after all, and even if you had been specifically trained as Healer, you had also got one of your friends to teach you the basics of an Heartrender’s work. You weren’t a powerful one but you could hold your ground in a fight. Especially since they weren’t expecting you. And you were still far from any real threat.

The battle dragged on and soon there were wounded soldiers that needed your attention. You hated this kind of work, it was messy and dirty and had to be quick because spending too much time on one soldier could mean dooming another to death. You were accustomed to it by now and soon found a rhythm focusing on ensuring everyone’s survival and not bothering with the aesthetic side of healing. That could be taken care of later if they wanted to.

As soon as your eyes fell onto a crouched figure you sprinted towards them. It was dirty and you didn’t recognize them but you got the feeling it was a life or death situation. Oh, how you wanted to be wrong.

The person crouching turned out to be Nikolai and he wasn’t alone. He was kneeling beside someone, Petyr.

“Where are you hurt?” you hurriedly asked as you tried to assess the damage. His uniform was dirty and full of blood but you couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Trying to answer you, Petyr opened his mouth only to let out the most gruesome gurgling sound as his respiratory tract was flooded by blood.

“He got shot in the gut.” Nikolai offered.

“Is the bullet still inside?” Opening his uniform jacket you tore a piece from his shirt to use it to put pressure on the wound.

“It’s too late,” Nikolai uttered.

“No.” You strongly refused as you removed the cloth and focused on the wound. His heart was straightening and he had already lost a lot of blood. If the bullet was still inside that it was going to be a problem, if it wasn’t then you still had a fighting chance.

“I removed it earlier.” So that was why he had lost so much blood. Nodding your head to show that you had heard him, you set out to stop the internal bleeding. Slowing his heartbeat so that it was pumping less blood and thus eased your endeavour. You were still in the middle of the field and while you were keeping up with the warfare but in the back of your mind, you registered the sounds of screaming and of gunshots getting closer. A bullet hit you in the shoulder propelling you forward over Petyr’s body. Grisha’s kefta were bulletproof so you weren’t worried for your incolumity but for the harsh movement you had made.

Leaning back, you heard Nikolai calling for you but your eyes were trained on Petyr. You tried to listen for his heartbeat but could only hear two instead of three. Nikolai, who had never left your side, immediately understood what had happened by the fall of your shoulders and the tensing of your hands.

He kept calling for you but the only thing you could focus on was that you had let your friend down. Now there will be one more family crying for a loss, another girl mourning a lost loved one. And it was all your fault. It was because of you that Petyr wouldn’t live to see another day, to write another letter or to fight another battle. It was on you.

The details of what happened next were a bit blurred. Someway you must have found your way back to the campsite. Whether you did on your own after tending to everyone else, you didn’t know. Your memories picked up after you woke up in your tent. Someone was calling your name, saying that the Darkling wanted to see you.

Mechanically you raised and made your way to the Darkling’s tent but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts were plagued by Petyr’s face, by that godforsaken sound he made when he tried to speak. The realisation that he was gone hit you like a wall of brick that would have made you stumble if you weren't’ sat in front of the Darkling’s desk. Whether he was speaking and stopped after seeing the forlorn look in your eyes or he hadn’t been speaking at all, you didn’t realize. You did hear him say that you were going to be posted somewhere. Under different circumstances you have said something, anything to not let him send you away. Your mind immediately went to Nikolai. You’d be leaving him behind along with the campsite.

However, you now realised that you had already lost him. Losing Petyr had been the last thing that had completely severed your bond. There was no turning back now and part of you was grateful.

Hello Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breaking mine?

I've been Miss "Misery" since your goodbye

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

You couldn’t know, of course, but Nikolai had left not long after you did. Albeit for a different reason. He had finally earned the Major rank and as such, he took a step back from military life deciding that his skill would be better suited for a life on the sea. Assuring Ravka the supply she needed but in ways that weren’t exactly suitable for a prince but worked just fine for a privateer. And thus Sturmhond came to life.

As for you, you kept doing your job at your new post but were relieved when a letter came from the Darkling instructing that you were needed at the Little Palace. Part of you had relegated Nikolai to that part of your mind where the unmentionable was, however, a traitor thought whispered that maybe there was a chance that you could see him at the royal grounds. Sure, the possibilities were close to zero but it was still possible, right?

No.

You already were ashamed of the fact that you’re still suffering because of him. And yes, you missed him but you weren’t going to indulge the pathetic hope of seeing him again.

He doesn’t want to see you. If he did, he would have already found you. Or write you a letter if he couldn’t, but he didn’t.

You were right. You knew you were, nonetheless, the thought only brought you a bittersweet feeling.

You found the Little Palace just how you’d left it and yet it seemed changed in a way. The insane amount of work you found there waiting for you helped you drown the feeling that it was you that had changed.

Months passed this way, sometimes the Darkling would post you with him or outside the Little Palace. All in all, you’ve kept busy. When news of the little prince leaving the Palace reached you, you let it wash over you. It wasn’t like it mattered much, whether he was a few feet away or in another nation, Nikolai wasn’t part of your life either way.

When the whole expansion of the Fold happened, you were stationed at the Little Palace. Chaos and terror ensued as soon as the news reached the capital making most of the Grisha flee. Most of them went looking for the Darkling while others simply ran away and hid. You were amongst the first group.

Soon, your life was radically changed. The shift in the Darkling was palpable and it didn’t have anything to do with the scars on his face. You had tried your best to heal them and Genya to tailor them away but somehow, they could not be removed. It was an unsettling thing to realize that they didn’t take away his beauty. One could even say that they enhanced his attractiveness.

He was certainly more powerful. None of you knew what had happened in the Fold that day, just that the Sun Summoner had fled and that there were no survivors apart from him. However, as your journey in pursuit of Alina dragged on, you were soon witnesses of his newfound power.

The nichevo’ya, he called them.

He had always been immensely powerful. One of a kind. But this- this was different. And as dread settled among your group as you watched them in action, realisation sat heavily on your shoulders.

He soon found a trail and traced Alina in Novyi Zem and set out to reach the island by hiring Sturmhond’s crew. He was a famous pirate after all and despite his unreliability, the Darkling was sure that as long as he got his money, he wouldn't be a problem.

In the round trip, you didn’t see much of the captain anyway. Some members of his crew were amiable enough, particularly the Yul-Baatar twins. You had even asked Tamar to spar with you from time to time. Your lessons with Botnik were a distant memory and you knew that mastering combat training skills could increase your chance at survival.

When Alina and Mal were held captive though, that’s when Sturmhond made an appearance. He looked younger than you’d thought and there was something oddly familiar in the way he held himself. Still, you didn't talk with him much. Your job was to take care of Alina and so you spent most of your time in her room.

It wasn’t until the Darkling asked Mal to track Rusalye and consequently spent more time with Alina that you had a chance to talk with him. It was during one of your night shifts when he approached you, the Darkling had wanted some of his to always be patrolling the ship.

“What could possibly make a little thing like you be amidst this wretched company?”

“It’s all a matter of perspective, I guess.”

“The thrill of adventure?”

“There’s plenty of it everywhere you go if you’re Grisha, even if you just go on a stroll.”

“Is that why you follow him?”

“I owe everything to him.”

“I’m sure you realize your role in this.”

“Of course I do. I’m not some naive girl who has a crush on her general.”

“Ah, so who, pray tell, do you have a crush on then, beautiful lady?”

“You’re certainly noisy for a pirate.”

“Privateer,” he corrected you, “there’s not much to do around here is it?”

“Not if you have everyone taking care of it, no.”

“Amuse me.”

“It isn’t wise to let the heart get involved in times of war.” That was all you were willing to share. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, the twinkle in his eyes was oddly familiar but he was a stranger. A dangerous one.

“Those sound like words spoken from experience.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’d say it’s no fun to only think about war. Life is so much more.”

“Believe me, if I could, it’d be the last thing on my mind. But, alas, l don’t have the privilege to do so.”

You had already lost too much time speaking with him. If someone were to see you or tell the Darkling you’d be in trouble. And you had made it your goal to never put yourself on the path of the Darkling’s anger. So you excused yourself and went back to your rounds.

If only you had stayed and talked to him more maybe you would have understood what was about to happen. Maybe you would have had an enkindling of Sturmhond’s plans. Instead, you were taken by surprise, just like everyone in your group, when Rusalye was spot and a shot was fired. You had found yourself in the uncomfortable position of having to fight against people you had grown to like.

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n,” Tamar warned you as you stood face to face on the sinking ship dock. Her trusted axes in her hands while your hands were raised ready to attack.

“I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“Then you don’t have to. Come with us.” Her proposition made you gasp.

“That would be treason,” you whispered hoping that the Darkling wasn’t around to hear you. A shiver ran through you as you thought of the punishment he’d give you for even thinking about leaving his side.

“Then you leave me no choice.” She said lowering her arms. Was that guilt you heard in her voice?

Before you could voice your question though, she shouted for her brother and not even a second later, you felt your body grow still. Your eyebrows faltered as you felt your heartbeat slow down.

They were Grisha.

They must have seen you realise because you heard Tamar apologize before everything went black.

Mr. "Never told me why"

He goes about his day

Forgets he ever even heard my name

Well, I thought you might be different than the rest, I guess you're all the same

You didn’t stay out for long though. As soon as Sturmhond’s crew had left the Darkling’s ship and had safely made it onto the Volkvolny, the privateer had asked for you to be awakened.

There wasn’t enough light for you to realize you were on another ship, what alerted you of your new situation were your hands. They had bound them behind your back. Immediately you started to struggle, hoping to wiggle out of the restraints. To no avail though. Huffing out in frustration, you settled for looking around you and see if there was something you could use. That’s when you noticed him.

“Release me- this instant, or else-”

“Or what? You’re a Healer. Not exactly a violent job, is it?” Sturmhond interrupted you, a smirk on his face since he had the upper hand.

“I don’t need my powers to kick you in the ass, do I?” He laughed but didn’t look remotely threatened. Rather amused, actually.

“Please, you have to let me go. He’ll kill me if-” Panic started to build as you realized that there was no way you could successfully escape.

“He won’t touch you.” A solemn glow took over his eyes. “He won’t ever hurt you again, you have my word.” He promised, looking subtly at your left shoulder. You winced as you realized that he must have seen your scars. The ones left by the Darkling’s niche’voya.

“How can I know if you’re trustworthy? You don’t exactly have a good score, you know?”

“You’re going to find out soon enough. Don’t worry.”

Of course, he didn’t bother offering further explanations. He’d left it at that. You weren’t a captive per se but he left your hands bound, only freeing them when you needed to eat or relieve yourself.

Fruitless were your efforts in making you tell more. He often ate with you and would check in at least twice a day but that was it.

It wasn’t until after you had landed after that forsaken vehicle of his had gotten you through the Fold that you understood. His coming out as Nikolai Lanstov, prince and second in line for the Ravkan throne, had shaken you all to your core. However, you doubted that it had sent a pang to the others’ hearts as it did with yours.

Nikolai Lantsov. The man you had been dreaming about, the one that had left you behind without any sort of explanations, the one you missed so dearly, had been by your side all this time.

You weren’t sure how you felt. It made sense now why his eyes looked familiar and his posture. You then connected that the vehicle you had used in the Fold had been one of the many projects he used to geek about with you. It tasted a lot like betrayal. Not because he had lied to you about his name but because he had tried to get close to you again and had managed to somehow break that growing bond again.

'Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl

I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her

So dignified in your well-pressed suit

So strategized, all the eyes on you

Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins"

So far above me in every sense

So far above feeling anything

Even if his secret had been outed thus causing some shift in the dynamics between Nikolai and the two new members of his crew - you suspected Mal was closer to punching him every second that passed- not much had changed for you.

On the outside, you pretty much looked like a prisoner. Albeit a very clean one. You rode with them, hands still bound, scowl ever-present on your face.

Nikolai had not come to see you ever since that night after the Fold. And now it had been almost a week since you had started your journey back to the capital. Whether this was all part of his plan to make you look the part of the captive even more or he was just gutless, you didn't know. It was working either way though.

You liked to think that his reason was simply that he didn't care. He had far too much on his plate right now as it was. Going back to court after years of absence while also making claims to the throne and trying to sway the Sun Summoner your way. It was no easy feat. But hadn't he always liked to say that impossible often meant improbable? A lot of things had changed since that night but even so, you'd still pose your bet on him that he'd be able to achieve anything he set his mind to.

It wasn't exactly that thinking this way brought you actual comfort. Of course, not. But it was better than foolishly hoping for him to still care about you the way you did for him. After all, he had sent plenty of signals that pointed in the other direction.

But then why did he kidnap you? Why take you with him? You weren't that close to the Darkling to be of any use to Nikolai in that way. And, as a matter of fact, no one had come to interrogate you regarding his plans or whereabouts. Then why?

You still couldn't figure it out.

Some days your anger shifted more to frustration and you were ounces away from asking for him yourself. Almost as if he had heard you though, he gave you the final push.

It was the usual day, Nikolai and Alina were riding in the carriage, stopping in every village we passed to meet with the locals. However, this time, before climbing back into the carriage, they kissed.

You were too far to figure out who started it and the details. The gist of it was enough though.

You most certainly were a fool. Still thinking about a guy who didn't give two shits about you, who had kidnapped you putting you in a dangerous situation and you were still wondering whether he felt something for you or not? Pathetic.

You had to do something about your situation and quickly too. Officially, you were a traitor. You had fled and joined the Darkling, that wouldn't make you look good in front of the king. He was a lousy bastard anyway and will probably sentence you to death to set an example. You hadn't survived so much shit to end up at the end of a rope.

So, even though you had initially thought against it since you were so close to home, you decided to escape. You were already headed towards certain death so what was the worst that could happen?

Your hands were left unbound when you were in your tent. One less problem to solve. Closing your eyes, you focused on listening for any nearby heartbeats. You heard two, those of the guards posted outside your tent. Maybe you could find an excuse to call them inside, put them to sleep and then slip away.

That was not exactly what your powers were for but you were desperate. You had to at least try.

And so you did. You called them in and immediately set out to slow their heartbeats. You had almost succeeded in putting them under when someone else slipped in. The last person you wanted to see.

"Am I that bad of a host?"

You didn't meet his ruse though, you knew it would make you lose focus.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to release my soldiers." As soon as he said it though, they fell unconscious at last. Your chest was heaving by now, using so much power in such a different way was costing you. But you couldn't back down now. It was one on one and you were Grisha and a woman scorned. He stood no chance.

"Move out of my way, your highness."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You can or I can make you. Your choice." The venom in your voice was unmistakable and it took him by surprise. He gave you a curious look tilting his head to the side like he was seeing you for the first time over again.

"I didn't realize ruthlessness was one of your personality traits."

"You know nothing about me," you seethed. The tip of your fingers flexed, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and you were already weary.

"It may have been a while y/n, but I like to think I know a good deal about you."

"And I would like to completely erase this last year but you don't hear me yap about how shitty it has been, do you?"

"You never did like opening up much."

"I'm well past the point of sentimentalism, Nikolai. It is coming far too late anyway. And whatever my feelings for you may be, I won't let you put my life on the line." Your posture straightened, stance ready for battle.

His eyes flashed, jaw clenched. His hands closed in fists and he almost looked hurt. But why would he?

"Is that what you think all of this is?" Nikolai always acted aloof. He was always composed and dignified. You had thought it was for his insane amount of self-confidence but now you understood it was for how he was raised. But you recognised the pout on his lips. It was the expression he’d always have whenever he tried to get something from getting to him. To prevent himself from showing emotions.

"You're holding me captive while you go around Ravka parading your latest conquest, flashing your return everywhere. I don't know why you're doing this but I don't care. I've stopped waiting around for you and I certainly won't let your father put me to death."

"You think I'd let him?"

"So you want to do this?" you threw your hands up in exasperation, "Fine. You really want to know what I think?"

"Be my guest."

"I think that the Nikolai I knew would have left out of the blue without so much as a letter. I think that the Nikolai I knew was ready to go to any length to achieve what he believed in. However, I thought that the Nikolai I knew cared about me and what we had but look at me now. So maybe, I know nothing at all."

"You certainly do seem to know a lot of things. But you’re not wrong."

"If this is the way you care about me," I gesture to my tent, "then I'm not sure I want this Nikolai to care for me."

“This,” he said, emulating your gesture, “is to keep you safe. This is my way to ensure that if the Darkling got news of your whereabouts, he’d be sure not to think you willingly left his side and betrayed him.”

“That’s because I didn’t!” You raised your voice in outrage. The nerve of this man.

“Spare me your indignation. I know you hate being at his beck and call, to do his dirty work and be constantly surrounded by warfare.”

“Do not presume to speak for me.” You snapped. You knew it was best to keep a cool head but his cockiness was getting on your nerves.

“Didn’t you? Hate it, I mean.”

“We’re at war, Nikolai. Being away or close to the Darkling won’t change that. At least with him, I was safe.”

“You can’t be that delusional to think that he was protecting you.” He scoffed at your words as if they were the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

“And you can’t be that delusional to think that bringing me back won’t result in your father killing me.” You fired back shifting on your feet. He winced as if you had physically hurt him.

“You have so little faith in me?” His voice was just above a whisper and you knew that your words had struck a chord.

“How can I have any, Nikolai?” your voice softened a bit. “One day you’re telling me how much you value my opinion, you promise me a future where I’d be the first to see your project come to life and then you left. You just left, Nikolai.” And when I was starting to make my peace with it that’s when you come back? Also, let’s not forget about my abduction and your flirting with Alina.”

“So yes, I don’t trust you.” You concluded, crossing your arms on your chest with finality. He just stared at you for the longest time. If someone would come in now, they’d think you were in the middle of a staring contest. Then he sighed and started talking.

“I had to go away. I had already pushed my parents’ limits when I said I wanted to be part of the infantry. So, one day I got a letter written by my father personally and I knew that my time was up. I had been Nikolai for too long, now I had to start being a Lantsov prince.” His eyes were on the ground now, shame making her way in his words.

“So that’s what I did,” he went as he started pacing,”I went to Kerch to study, just like my father wanted. I did what he asked, he couldn’t reproach me anything now. I could never stay too still though, a life of adventure was calling me and I could not ignore it. It was only then that I realized that I could do so much more than sitting in a class, to realistically help Ravka.”

“I couldn’t take you with me. You had such a larger role to play in the army and besides, there wasn’t much I could offer you. So yes, I left. I left thinking that I would find my way back to you eventually.” He had stopped by now, regret was swirling in his shining orbs as he looked at you.

“You could have told me.” You contestated, taken back by all the information he gave you. “I would have waited for you.” A whispered promise for something that would never be now.

“I was afraid, y/n. That’s not my best moment, I know and no number of apologies could ever make it right. But I was afraid of your answer. I knew I’d be asking for a lot and let’s be honest-” the desperation in his tone was evident now, he had unconsciously started to lean towards you but you knew what he was about to say.

“You weren’t sure if the future you were offering me would just end up with me being your mistress, am I right?” Your tone hardened but despite the insulting implication of what you said, you weren’t made at him.

“I’m a prince, y/n. We do not marry for love and this country cannot afford to disregard the advantages that a political union could bring.”

His honesty was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He was right. As soon as you had learned he was a prince, you realized just what kind of future you could have with him. But then he left and that problem did not exist anymore. Neither of you spoke, both of you were seizing the other. You had laid it all out, defences were down putting you both in a vulnerable position.

And someday maybe you'll miss me

“You should have talked to me, Nikolai. We could have figured it out together. If it came to being your mistress to stay with you, then that was my decision to make.” You said softly after a while. It pained for you to say this, you would have never thought that getting closure would hurt this much.

Tears streamed on both of your faces, in front of you had been laid what your future could have looked like. It was everything you had wanted, you could still do your job and have the man of your dreams. You were surprised to find that you wouldn’t mind sharing him with his supposed wife. You had been at court for enough time to know how most marriages went. If he assured you it was only a diplomatic affair but that his heart was yours, that would have been enough. Who knows, maybe she’ll get a lover too.

But now… now you didn’t know if you could ignore everything that happened. You did not trust him nor could you ignore how hurt you were by his lack of communication and thus of trust in you.

But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov imagines #nikolai lanstov one shot #nikolai lanstov fic #nikolai lanstov x you #nikolai lanstov x y/n #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lanstov angst #nikolai lanstov fluff #nikolai lanstov blurb

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daisiesonafield-blog · 3 years

Note

Hi there, I’ve seen your post on the DWD screening and since I’ve been working in film production for more than a decade I thought I’d help clear some things up. So, you’re correct in saying that picture lock is the stage right before color and mix, which are the last things that happen before a film is delivered (along with GFX and credits being added). In order to get to picture lock, the film needs to be approved by a number of people (execs mostly, but it depends). When the director and editor are ready, they screen what is called a “fine cut”, which is basically the film according to them, with structure, pacing and music in place (the latter as much as possible). In most medium to high level productions, there are assistant editors who do a pass at grading and pre-mixing, so that the film is presentable without having been through actual color and mix, which are expensive and only happen at the very end, once everyone’s approved the cut. In other words, yes, it is VERY plausible that they would screen a film to test audiences before picture lock - it would make very little sense to do that after, unless some major issues arise that would warrant reopening the edit. But that’s rare and usually really really bad. So I think it’s absolutely possible that the screening was for DWD, and based on the gossip we got from set it would make a lot of sense for the studio to test it with audiences, especially if, as it seems, the story is pretty confusing. I just want to add that it is INSANE to me that the director of a film that’s in edit would take a two week vacation right in the middle of the editing process. It’s basically unheard of, especially for someone with so little experience. She should be spending time with the editor and be available to them, no matter what their process is (and it can vary a lot). The fact that she was on a completely different time zone for so long tells me that she has completely checked out of the process. If I were the producer, I’d be livid - unless, of course, I knew that she’s much more valuable to the movie on a yacht pretending to make out with the lead actor than she is in the editing room, crafting the actual film. Anyways - rant over. Hope this helps, happy to clear up any other question.

Hi dear,

Thank you so much for this added info! Highly appreciated! So as I understand what you said, it's common to test a movie when picture lock is close to being done in a "fine cut" version of the movie with some music and coloring tweaks, but no special effects or the fine detail editing/color grading that we see in the final version. So it's basically the closest they can get the movie at that stage to what they hope the final stage will look like, but with enough room for changes/editing.

So for example, if a scene has actors attached to wires etc, or requires special effects, that would not be fully edited in the way we see in the final version, correct? It'd be a rough cut of that? Or some scenes would be more done than others?

In regards to Olivia, it really does look like her involvement in the editing process is very minimal and someone else is overseeing the day-today decisions then she just looks at more broad editing decisions? It's hard to imagine coordinating all that work when London is 8 hours ahead of LA - that's an entire working day, meaning the LA team would have to wait extra days to get notes and direction back and vice-versa. Is that a fair assessment? Let's hope whoever is doing the work is credited accordingly then.

Note: in relation to this post

#don't worry darling #don't worry darling screening #picture lock #color grading #mine #olivia wilde #jul 27 2021 #jul 2021 #dwd #dwd editing

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Bitter

A/N: Pain? Pain? Did someone ask for some pain? No? Well, here’s some pain anyways! No happy endings in sight! Enjoy! Xx (also very loosely based on the song Bitter!)

Pairing: Javier x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: language, light smut (18+ only!)

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

He's here. Of course he is.

You were mildly surprised, but honestly, you'd have been more surprised if he'd skipped out.

You clutched your glass of wine so tightly that it seemed to be a miracle that it didn't shatter into a thousand tiny little bits. Just like your heart had done. Because of him. Because of Javier.

You hated him. But in a sick and twisted way, all through how the universe seemed to work, you couldn't ever completely hate him. When you'd been good, you were good. Great even. But as soon as things turned sour, they'd gone bitter in a heartbeat.

For a man that claimed he didn't do relationships, Javier Peña proved to be an excellent partner - a good friend, a caring lover, and a fun time. That was until he decided that relationships absolutely weren't his thing. Because everything had been a lie.

But maybe it had been you?

Because for a man that claimed he didn't do relationships, he sure had liked it with you - until he didn't. Apparently he was willing to wager all of that again - or needed something else from someone else.

At least that's what you gleaned from the blonde that was hanging onto his arm and giggling at seemingly everything he said. It was enough to make you want to throw up then and there.

You’d been at this silly little holiday party for long enough, you suddenly decided. Downing the rest of your wine, the slight buzz had set in but wasn’t enough to actually help to suppress your feelings, you resolved to make a few goodbyes and leave. Going home to an empty and dark apartment was better than staying here.

“You might as well just shoot him,” Steve Murphy’s voice reached your ears and you tensed up before realizing who it was. The tall blonde was standing next to you, a drink in his own hand and a scowl on his face, “it’d be easier than glaring daggers all night.”

“Which is precisely why I’m leaving,” you took your empty flute and shoved it in his hand. You almost felt bad for snapping at him - almost. He’d been Javier’s partner and friend first and foremost, and although you’d come to know him as your own friend, it was still hard to separate the two of them. But he was a good man, and to be fair, he’d been almost as men to Javier as you had when it all went down. However, unlike you, he was stuck working with him. You were lucky enough to work for the CIA instead of the DEA, so you had the mercy of getting to easily avoid him.

“I’ve never seen her before,” he offered as if that was going to make everything better, “he’s probably-”

“I don’t care,” you insisted sharply, bitter venom lacing your words, “I really don’t, Steve. I just - I’m leaving.”

“Do you need me to-”

“I’m good,” you insisted.

You were anything but.

“Kid-”

“I’m good,” you repeated firmly as you pressed past him and headed for the exit of the stuffy hall. You didn’t even bother turning around to say goodbye to say or anything. You just wanted to get out of there and go home as quickly as possible.

Fuck Javier Peña. Fuck him for making you fall in love with him, and fuck him for breaking you in one foul swoop.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You know, for someone that claims he’s not into the whole romantic relationship bullshit,” you grinned at Javi as you sat on his kitchen counter, swinging your legs back and forth as he prepared dinner, “you’re pretty good at it.”

“Hmm,” he mused as he took a sip of his beer before putting his hands on your thighs and stepping between your legs, “maybe your standards are too low, Dulzura.”

“Maybe you don’t give yourself enough credit,” you teased back, only to be silenced by Javier crashing his lips onto yours. You could already feel yourself melting into his touch, as his arms wrapped around your waist and yours around his neck, “Javi.”

Before things could go any further, the two of you were interrupted by a loud crackling from the pan. A heavy sigh left his lips as he pressed one more to your forehead before he turned back to the pan, “I will admit, I never thought I’d be here making you dinner.”

“Me specifically, or a woman in general?” you carded a hand through his dark locks before smirking at him.

“Both,” he admitted, “not a woman in general because like I said, fuck this romantic bullshit, and definitely not you, because we didn’t start on the best terms when you got here.”

“That was because you were an asshole,” you stuck out your tongue as he just laughed.

“And you were a bitch,” you nodded at his assessment. Neither of you had been particularly kind to the other upon your first several encounters. Javier was stubborn and hard-headed, you were fierce with a lot to prove in a male dominated world. Opposites on an unwavering spectrum, and yet more alike than either of you cared to admit. That's probably why you'd both been at each other's throats time and time again - you insisted he was a chauvinistic pig; he swore you were an ice queen that just hated everyone.

One thing had led to another and eventually there was a singular moment that broke the proverbial camel's back. It had been a quiet evening with both of you trying to get work done that had led you to say something to Javier to which he had responded with a simple, but calculated, uh huh honey.

You couldn't even respond with any words, funding yourself utterly unable, before you grabbed the collar of his slightly too tight pink button up and crashing your lips fiercely onto his. He'd responded in kind - eager and more than willing.

That night, which you'd both sworn up and down would be a one time thing, quickly turned into more. More turned into Javier dropping his nighttime visits to the brothels, and focusing on you. More had turned into this.

"I don't think we've really changed," you admitted as you reached for his beer and downed the rest of it in one go with a wicked smirk, "I think we've just come to realize we're good together. In case you haven't noticed babe, I still have to put up with so much shit. Have some tits and men find it fitting to treat you like a piece of meat."

“You know if anyone ever does or says another thing to you, I’ll-”

“I know, Javier,” you promised with a noncommittal shrug of your shoulders, "I just want to be able to do things on my own and be respected. Just like you and Steve and all the other men are."

"You outshine them all easily," he set the spoon down on the edge of the pot, crossing his arms over his broad chest, "they're idiots. You're not - never forget that."

"How very sweet," you rolled your eyes playfully at his dramatic words but you knew he was truthful, "a model boyfriend. You're better at this whole thing than you give yourself credit for."

"Yeah yeah," he snorted as he flipped you off, "don't get used to it - or tell anyone. Just for you, Dulzura."

"Don't worry, baby," you shot him a cheeky wink, "our little secret for now."

»»————-　♡　————-««

The door to your apartment was thrown open in anger as you stumbled in, trying to contain your tears of anger. Stumbling over your own feet, you kicked off your heels and cursed them before slamming the door shut and locking it. You weren’t drunk, nowhere near drunk to be honest, but gods did you wish you were. Anything to get the persistent thought of him out of your mind.

He was the one that fucking cheated, and yet here you were, the one that was suffering. All while he seemed to be having the time of his life.

A heavy sigh escaped past chapped lips as you dragged yourself to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. One look at the label caused you to audibly groan - even it had to remind you of him. It was his favorite kind, left over from one of the many times he’d brought take out and beer over for an easy dinner after a long day.

Throwing it into the sink, the bottle shattered and the golden liquid rushed down the drain as you only cried harder. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You shouldn’t still care this much. But that was the root of the problem - you did care. Because you’d loved him, fully and completely and thought he loved you too. A silly, foolish thought.

Dragging yourself to the couch, you flopped onto your back and covered your wet eyes with the back of your arm as you tried to calm yourself. But it only worked momentarily as you remembered all the times you’d been with him on this couch.

How he’d pull you into his lap, and kiss you until you were both breathless. How he’d fuck you after a long hard day, coming in to find you ready and waiting for him. How he’d lay down and watch television with you next to him, a messy tangle of limbs and lips.

How he’d said I love you for the first time on this very couch.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Javi,” your moan was like the sweetest music in his ear as he leaned down to pepper kisses along your neck and jaw. Your arms wrapped around him like a vice grip as you held his body close to yours while he thrusted into you, “right there, please. Yes.”

"I've got you, baby," he whispered as he dragged his tongue along your collarbone, continuing to meet the roll of your hips with slow thrusts, "you feel so fucking perfect."

"Right there," your eyes squeezed shut as your toes started to curl and your vision became hazy. That familiar warmth of your release washed over your whole body, "Javier."

"Fuck, Dulzura," he dropped his head and rested it in the crook of your shoulder as he felt your walls tighten around him. He moaned in your ear, low and sultry, as your huffed him to your body, "I- fuck - I love you."

And just like that it felt your whole world suddenly stopped. Your eyes snapped wide open as you tried to figure out if what you thought he said was actually said or if it was made up in your mind. But as you met his dark eyes, there was a nervous, panicked look in them. Clearly he hadn't meant to say them out loud.

"Javier?" you reached up and touched his cheek before gently brushing away a stray lock of hair. He keened into your touch as it was enough to push him over the edge and he spilled inside of you. He all but collapsed on you, suddenly boneless, the magnitude of his words not lost on him, "did you mean it? I-I don't want to hear it unless you mean it."

And then it was silent for a few moments as you tried to catch your breath.

"Yes," he finally broke the tension and slowly lifted off you. Pulling out in one fluid motion, he sat back on the couch and pulled you into his lap, "I fucking mean it. I've never said it like this before to anyone, but fuck if I don't mean it."

"Javier,” you leaned and crashed your lips against, hungry and wanting, just as needy as before he fucked you senseless. It was messy and hard, both of you fighting for dominance as his large hand found the back of your neck and he held you close to him, “you’re an asshole. But I love you too.”

“Dulzura,” his hands found your bum as he gave it a firm a squeeze and caused you to grind against him, causing him to moan into your mouth, “fuck me.”

“I plan on it,” you whispered with a smirk on your face as he practically melted into your touch.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You slid off the couch in a fit of your own tears and choked back sobs. How could you fall for such a lie; you felt so stupid, so dumb, so used. You worked for the fucking CIA, you should have been able to spot a lie from a mile away. But this one, the one right in front of your face, whispered to you during an intimate and sacred moment, had blindsided you and played you for a fool.

Javier Peña was a fucking liar. He did it for a living half the time; why should this have been any different? Apparently they weren’t. You were just another way for Javier to have control over something and get his pent up anger and energy.

He had moved on, so easily, so effortlessly, all while you were here, falling apart. You’d never let someone in like this before, had never opened up to someone so fully and completely.

This was a prime example of why you didn’t.

You pulled yourself up from the floor and wiped at your teary eyes and snotty nose and dragged yourself to the bedroom.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“What are you thinking about, Dulzura?” his voice was still thick with sleep as he draped an arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest. You made a small sound of delighted surprise, but your eyes were still firmly closed. It was early still and the dawn’s morning light was just beginning to filter in through your sheer curtains.

“‘M sleeping,” you insisted groggily, barely able to contain your giggles as he pressed kisses to your shoulder.

“Bullshit,” he whispered as you huffed in jest. He could always read you like a book; the truth was that you’d been up for some time, eyes closed as a million thoughts ran through your mind, “you’re much too quiet to be asleep.”

“You realize what you’ve said is an oxymoron, right?”

“When applied to normal people yes, but with you - no,” he called out completely and you slowly turned around so you were facing him. He was right - you tended to make some sort of noises or sounds as you slept. The fact that it was dead silent was a giveaway, “dime, Cariño.”

“It’s nothing important, Javi,” you insisted as you rested your head next to his on the soft pillow. He sighed dramatically as he traced aimless shapes into your back, his fingers surprisingly soft and warm, “in the chaos that are our lives, it’s absolutely trivial and silly.”

“I like trivial and silly - I like you,” he insisted as his soft brown eyes studied yours, “out with it, or it’ll kill me all day, baby.”

“I was just thinking about this,” you pointed to his body and yours, “us. What are we doing? What’ll happen to us when all of this is over and we can be...normal?”

“What do you want to happen?”

“I asked you first, asshole,” you laughed as he kissed your forehead, “I like this - us - but if this is all that there’s ever going to be, I kind of want to know that too.”

“What do you want?” he asked, suddenly adopting a serious, “do you want this? If you want this...I want this too.”

“Javier,” reaching up slowly, you placed a gentle hand on his cheek as you watched him for a few moments before placing a chaste kiss to his plush lips, “I want this...I want you. I’m all in.”

“I know it probably doesn’t seem like much, but you have me,” he promised, and you could feel yourself practically melting into him, “that much you never have to question.”

“I love you,” you whispered before closing your eyes and let him pull against him as you left call you back, “I mean it, Javier. I didn’t think I ever would love anyone, especially not you, but it’s true.”

“I love you too, Dulzura.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was all a fucking lie. Your chest rose and fell in anger as you grabbed the few pictures you had of yourself and Javier off of your dresser and smashed them onto the floor. The bed sheets were next, including the pillows that seemed to be doomed to smell like him for all eternity. Everything went into an angry messy pillow on the floor as you trembled with anger and upset exhaustion.

“Oh god,” you whispered in a choked sob to yourself as you buried your face in your hands. How could it hurt this fucking much? All because of one man.

Because you loved him so fucking much it made your heart physically ache. Because you loved him with every fiber of your being, Because you had loved him fully and fallen for every single pretty little word he offered you. Because you loved him completely and he had just dumped you as soon as you were no longer shiny and new. As soon as someone else caught his eye.

How easy it had been for him. All the while you had been an oblivious fool.

»»————-　♡��————-««

“I’m going to go and start laundry,” the basket under your arm was full with a combination of your clothes. Javier had been spending more and more time at your apartment, almost like he lived there. And it was all terribly natural; a domestic bliss that effortlessly fell into place.

“Need a hand?” Javier was busy in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. There was finally some down time and you’d collectively decided to have a lazy, quiet weekend in.

“I got it,” you promised as you opened the door to head to the laundry, “be back in a few.”

He made a small sound of acknowledgment as you left. You hummed to yourself as you walked down the stairs and into the deserted open, grabbing the first washer you saw. Pulling out the clothes one by one, you placed them in, but confusion quickly hit you. Javier’s work shirts had a...different smell to them. Frowning, you brought the pink button up to your nose and took a good whiff. Immediately, your heart started to pound in your chest as you realized that it most definitely wasn’t your perfume or his aftershave on it.

Quickly tossing the offending article into the washer, you grabbed another shirt and smelled it again, only to find the same thing. That’s when you realized - those were both shirts he had been wearing on the nights he’d come home extremely late, long after you’d been in bed.

A sense of dread and doom washed over you like a tidal wave as you abandoned everything and ran up the stairs to your apartment. You burst through the door and Javier jumped at the intrusion as he looked at you with a surprised look on his face, “is everything okay?”

“I don’t know, Javier,” there was a shake to your voice as you closed the door behind you and looked him dead in the eyes, refusing to look away, “tell me - is everything okay?”

“Dulzura-”

“Your shirts,” your voice cracked as you realized you were about to hear the inevitable. You felt like you already knew the truth, but hearing it from his own mouth was what you needed, “they don’t smell like you...o-o-or me. What happened to your shirts, Javier? And you don’t lie to me. Don’t you dare fucking lie to me.”

“If you have to ask, then you already know,” how easily he steeled himself as he set his spoon on the stove and turned off the pot. No emotion crossed his face as he started back at you with a neutral mask; Agent Pena was in full force, “look, dul - what do you want me to say?”

“Something? Anything?” tears had already pearled up and cascaded down your cheeks as you started at him in awe, “tell me you didn’t fucking cheat on me and you’re being this causal about this.”

“Then I won’t say it,” he whispered as he took a step closer, “because you already know.”

“You’re not even going to try and defend your actions?” you felt like this must have been some sort of hysterical joke at your expense. Everything was crumbling down around you and he didn’t even seem to care, “Javier, I love you - I’m….I’m in love with you. Y-you told me you loved me too...that you wanted this.”

“For someone that works for the CIA you're not very observant sometimes,” he shook his head as he took a long breath in and out, “look...I’m not going to try and defend my actions or lie to you. I needed the information you could provide to me so I could get a leg up on your little department. This is a messy game, chiquita, a messy game where you can’t trust anyone and you need to watch your every move. In this game, you win or you die, there’s no other way to look at it. You gave me what I needed, so I gave you what you needed.”

“A lie,” your mind was reeling as you tried to make sense of it all and his words crashed around your ears. None of this was ever real….it was all a lie, a horrid, painful lie. At your expense, “it never meant anything to you.”

“I care about you,” he insisted as you scoffed between your sobs, “and I do want to keep you safe. I just...you had more insight than I could have imagined. It was a good thing while it lasted, right? Why look at this as more than it was?”

“Because I love you!” you shouted at him, “because this was real to me! Because I imagined a life and a future with you. How could you do this? You could have just been honest with me…”

“We both know that never would have worked,” he laughed bitterly, “but think of all the good times, they were real at the time, weren’t they? You were happy…”

“While living a lie,” you reminded him, “it was never real. You never...you never loved me. I should have known that none of this ever meant anything to you.”

“Listen-”

“When would you have told me the truth?”

“Eventually,” he shrugged as he stared at his feet, “we’re not alloted this type of life, this romantic bullshit - we’re just not. You have to accept and move on.”

“Get out,” you couldn’t believe that every good thing in your life for the past year had been a lie. Who else had known? Who else was in on it?

“I will keep you safe,” he promised but you weren’t even sure if you could trust that much. When did his lies start and stop?

“I said get out,” you threw open the door and pointed at it for him to leave, “I never want to see you or hear your voice again. If I do, it will be too soon. I loved you, Javier. I really fucking did. I can’t believe I actually pictured a future with you. I can’t believe I thought I meant a goddamn thing to you. Get out and leave and don’t ever come back.”

“I-”

“Get out!” you screamed as you rushed down the hall to your bedroom and slammed the door closed. You collapsed onto the floor into a fitful, sobbing rage. You heard him igh heavily a few times before the sounds of his retreating footsteps reached your ears and he left, closing the door gently behind him.

You felt like a fucking fool. Used and hurt and worst of - heartbroken.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Examining the mess on your floor, you gave it a good kick before leaving the room and your apartment all together. You quickly ran outside and down the few blocks to Javier’s apartment, clutching at the spare key in your pocket.

You could see that his lights were off, and he likely wouldn’t be home for sometime. You jogged up the stairs and let yourself into his place, sighing at the familiarity of it all.

It looked exactly like it had the last time you’d been there. Pictures of the two of you were strewn through and you still found your clothes hanging in his closet.

Just like you had done at your own place, you smashed each picture on the floor, making sure it was all utterly destroyed. Your clothes were ripped to shreds and joined the glass rubble. It was probably wrong, probably too childish, but in the moment you didn’t care. Your entire love, your entire future had all been a lie.

When you were satisfied with your handiwork, you threw the key on top of the pile and walked out, not even bothering to slam the door. You walked back home slowly, soaking in the sights and sounds of the city at night. It was calming - grounding even - usually. But tonight it failed completely. All you could focus on was your ragged breathing and the blood pounding in your ears.

It all served as a singular reminder.

You were stupid, foolish, and dumb. And now - bitter.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#javier peña #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #fem!reader #narcos

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