#Denis Sokolov

[dharr5]

In a truly shocking and appalling turn of events even though his ref was the first one I cleaned up and I did it ages ago I never posted Denis' clean ref????

For convenience's sake, I'm going to add Yasha, Nunataq, and Clover's refs below the cut too, but I can't believe I never posted this for like a whole year after I finished it...

These designs are subject to change in the future, but as of now these are the most up to date versions of my Magical Boys and their Mascot Animal/Mentor Creature :)

[viandede-porque]

Trying to bring my mental health back

[uneednotknow]

So I was thinking

Vaughn Morozov and Maya Sokolov being good friends? Close friends? Best friends even?

Maya find comfort in Vaughn, he is a younger brother to her.

A brother she never had, infact.

Her and Mia are best friends, sure. But so is Vaughn.

Maya and Vaughn got closer after playing and growing up with each other. He listens to her. Advise her. Taught her academic lessons though he is a year younger than her.

Sure, he and Niko are also close friends but his friendship with Maya runs deeper compared to the one with Niko and Mia.

To him, she is a sister he never had.

She started falling for Ilya? Yeah, she told Vaughn first(after much contemplation). I mean, it was hard to hide anything from him, he is like a human scanner- easily scanning and eradicating lies and acts.

She needs someone to accompany her, for her hobbies like cafe hopping, buying new clothes, skincare and makeups- Vaughn only answers with a sigh and grab his car keys.

One night, after she went to UK for college and he is still in the US completing his high school, he gets a call from Maya. Before he could greet her or say anything he hears her sniffles and simply says "Let it out. You have me." That call lasted for a good hour with half of the time crying (her recurring guilt eating her inside out because of the "sin" She committed when she was 8, he didn't know that yet he was still there.)

True to his words. She had him. She always will.

When he visited UK for the Initiation, he had a long "sparring session" with Ilya, they spend almost 3 hours inside the boxing ring- interrogating him and his ability, his honesty, his sincerity and his loyalty towards his sister/friend, Maya.

If they were going to date, Vaughn was gonna make sure Ilya knew what he is getting into, that his wrong move will only result in a decade hunt for his missing body.

He understood why she fell of him, with all her public airings about going to marry into a rich family, he got that it was faux attitude. Deep down, she simply craved for genuine love and care, a home she could call her own, be herself. She preferred the calm gray of a simple and level headed man like Ilya than the extravagant blacks and whites of the Bratvas.

Vaughn sees right through anyone, Maya was no exception. He couldn't tell exactly what was bothering her, eating her alive but he knew there was more to her than her diva personality.

He knows that though that is her, it is just a fraction of who Maya is.

He knows that besides the micro skirts and tops that she loves to wear, she equally loves the sweatpants, jeans, sweatshirts and hoodies that she wears only when she is in the comfort of her home.

He knows she likes makeups and skincare but equally likes the Marvel Comics that she has a secret collections of beneath all those fashion magazines, or perhaps she prefers the latter more. She just don't wanna be seen as a comic nerd.

He knows that she likes this one indie band, not much known by people. And that is why he suddenly called her one evening when she was back in US for holidays, to go to that band's concert.

Who is that girl with Vaughn, she wonders, walking side by side towards her, the girl rolled her eyes at something he said whilst he simply looked at her, with amusement, and something more, Maya couldnt point out what

. Soon, she finds out that girl with Vaughn is also a fan of that band and he had somehow convinced her to come to the concert with a promise that it won't be just him and her.

She made a new friend that night, though they never got to exchange numbers.

He knows that she wants to open a small comic story, maybe a pop-up store along with it, and he is ready to help her. Though he still makes fun of her about her reaction when he caught her buying the comics like it was illegal substance and the fright she had when he walked up to her in the bookstore, trying to deny and make up an excuse.

Trusting him, she bashfully told him about wanting to open her own store and having her own brand of comics, illustrating comics from small artists who deserved recognition.

But he sees right through her, doesn't he? He doesn't make a big deal out of it and keeps it hush from everyone else like she asks him to.

When the "big reveal" about the kidnapping came to light and she felt like she was done for and abandoned, she thought she lost it all. Her sister, her brother, her mom and dad, her friends, her boyfriend- ex-boyfriend at that time. He was there for her.

She expected to see the same look of disappointment and abhorrence in his eyes but there was none of that. Rather, he still looked at her the same way he does to everyone- hazel eyes with not a swirl of emotion behind it.

He still treated her the same way he did before.

He offered her to tell him the entire thing without any lie, just honesty. And she did.

Maya felt like a whole weight lifted off her shoulders, so she asked him to help her, tell her what to do to be free. To be liked by people around her again, but this time genuinely.

When no one understood her, he listened to her.

When her tangled thoughts got the best of her, he calmed her down.

It annoyed him to the core that the people around her have decided to be a bunch of idiotic hypocrites who can't put themselves in her shoes, not understanding why she had to keep quiet for so long, not understanding that she herself was tortured by the kidnappers emotionally, not understanding that she was scared to lose what she have- her family.

But Vaughn was determined to be a good friend, a good brother to her. He visited her, though she screamed at him to go away. He encouraged her to get psychiatric help for her trauma, though she felt like she deserved all the bad things happening to her.

He let her know that he is there for her.

When she said she wanted to move somewhere they couldn't find her, he helped her do so. With a promise that she would be honest with her updates to him. Oh and along with Ilya.

To Maya, the girl who never had anything of her own. The lonely girl who despite all her acts of being high and mighty, was a scared child who took everything that was available to fill up the cracks of guilt and agony.

The girl who, despite all her efforts to make people like her the way she was, had to put up an act that she is above all of them so that if they already hate her, it won't hurt her when one day, she is left all alone.

So he let her do what she wanted.

This would be until she is in a much stable condition in life.

Vaughn could see the better future for her. He saw that despite being ostracized by her own family she is finally free. Finally becoming the Maya Sokolov without hiding any parts of herself.

And Vaughn only felt proud about the person Maya is going to become.

[welldonekhushi]

To Be Free.

Universe: Call of Duty: Black Ops 6

Characters included: Nadezhda Pugacheva/Jodie Hall, Vasili Mikhailovich Sokolov/Vincent Stephens

Special mention: @imagoddamnonionmason

Summary: Jodie urges Vasili to help The Rook uncover the Pantheon's plans, but Vasili himself struggles with his loyalty, torn between betrayal and redemption — as they reunite with one thing that has kept their bond stronger.

Warnings: A bit of profanity (Yup, just Woods being Woods. You're warned, haha!)

Vasili made his way down the long hallway, his boots softly echoing on the old floorboards. He passed by several rooms, his eyes scanning each one as he moved, looking for the rest of the crew. Door to door, he searched, each room offering no more than the silence of an empty house. Yet his gaze wandered beyond the immediate task at hand, he was also observing the house itself. The Rook. The place where they all had taken shelter in, where the team now lived, hidden away from the world.

Before his capture, Vasili had been in Bulgaria, living off the grid. Away from the KGB, the Pantheon, and lastly, from all this chaos. It had been an unexpected and uneasy refuge. Little did he know, his presence there had not gone unnoticed. Woods and the rest of the team had been in Bulgaria too, unaware of each other's proximity, until it was too late. They had all discovered it to their surprise, especially Woods himself that Vasili was alive.

It was an even greater shock when they learned that Vasili had previously joined forces with the Pantheon, after his last encounter with Russell Adler. The revelation hit them like a hammer blow, especially poor Jodie. She couldn't believe that Vasili would ever do that.

She kept denying it, over and over, tears welling up in her eyes. The reality was too much for her to bear, and yet, the truth hung heavy in the air. But the revelation was even more devastating; he had been the one to kill Hudson. Vasili had targeted the agent for manipulating Dimitri Belikov, his old friend, into joining the CIA, that had also ultimately led to Belikov's untimely death.

Vasili had never forgiven Hudson for what he had done. He spoke of it with a coldness that chilled everyone to the bone, recounting how his hands still ached whenever he thought of the last time he’d held Belikov. Years had passed since that moment, but the pain lingered.. a constant, gnawing reminder of the loss he could never undo. Driven by anger and desperation, he had turned to the Pantheon, seeing it as his only path forward. For Vasili, the organization offered not just power but the freedom to finally carry out his vengeance and eliminate Jason Hudson. After Hudson, he wanted to go behind Adler too, for what he did to him during the Cold War.

But whenever Mason’s name came up in conversation, who also fell victim to Menendez's plans in Panama, Vasili would fall silent. The words froze in his throat, his expression an unreadable mask. He didn’t want to talk about it, knowing deep down that if Jodie, or especially Woods, learned the truth, they would come to hate him. Vasili knew exactly what had happened, because he had been there. He had witnessed it all, and the guilt had haunted him for years.

Despite the freedom the Pantheon claimed to offer, he had come to realize that it wasn’t true freedom. There was always a control — subtle, invisible, but inescapable. Whether it was good or bad, Vasili couldn’t say. All he knew was that it had its claws in him, and it wasn’t letting go. The weight of that control, combined with the choices he had made, was only making his suffering worse. As if he kept on being punished for what he did.

And he did. He saw it in Jodie.. the way her eyes reflected anguish and disbelief at his actions. Even with his personal grudge against Hudson, Vasili couldn’t ignore the man’s role in her life. Hudson had given Jodie a place in the CIA, shaping her path and bringing her to where she was now. To her, Hudson wasn’t just a name — he was someone who mattered, and that was something which made the two different from each.

"I trusted you, Vas.. I trusted you with all my heart.." The tears filled into Jodie's eyes, as they threatened to fall on his cheeks.

And then there was Woods, whose fury burned brighter than anything Vasili had expected. When he learned that Vasili had played a part in Mason's death, it drove him to the edge.

"You fucking son of a bitch, Vas. You fucking son of a bitch!" Woods shouted in anger. "If I ever tried a bit harder, I would have strangled you to death back there."

To Vasili’s dismay, the words cut deep, not because of the threat, but because Mason had once been someone he was incredibly close to — back when he was still Bell. As if his pain was finally getting shared with. Watching the Pantheon eliminate Alex Mason in Panama, as a twisted response to Hudson’s death, felt like a cruel trade to him. One life for another, and yet both left a void he couldn’t escape. It truly felt like the Pantheon betrayed him back.

And yet, despite the heavy guilt weighing him down, Vasili chose to remain with the Pantheon, despite everything that happened. Perhaps it was because he had long accepted the bitter truth, that he was nothing more than a tool, a killing machine, an expendable asset. It was a role he had been forced into since his days under Perseus and Adler, a role that had consumed him, leaving little room for anything else. The dreams he once had —of serving his family and his country with honor felt like distant memories, now tainted by the blood he had spilled and the betrayals that had shaped his life.

The opportunities he had wanted to pursue, the hopes his family had placed upon him, all seemed irreparably stained. The Vasili who had once been proud and determined now felt hollow, crushed beneath the weight of his failures and the burdens imposed by a merciless world. Yet he clung to the Pantheon, not out of loyalty, but because it was all he had left. A means to channel his rage, to fulfill a purpose, however dark and fleeting. It wasn’t freedom, and it wasn’t redemption, but in his mind, it was better than succumbing entirely to the emptiness. He wished if his friends hated him, truly. He knew it was too late to change things.

Under certain circumstances, Vasili found himself simultaneously seeking shelter from the Pantheon after his capture at The Rook. Despite being in enemy hands, he refused to betray the organization he had aligned himself with. During the interrogation, he was questioned about the Pantheon’s plans, but Vasili remained resolute, offering nothing. His loyalty to the organization and its ideals ran deep, even as the weight of his choices pressed heavily on him.

Adler, however, refrained from harsher methods. Instead, he chose to give Vasili time.. time to reflect, to weigh his loyalties, and perhaps, to confront the conflict brewing within him. It was a calculated move, one that recognized the fractured man Vasili had become, hoping that with patience, he might find a reason to let go of the darkness that still held him captive. It was surprising how Adler was pretty calm with Vasili this time, but he still didn't trust him a bit.

Vasili wandered through the hallway of The Rook, his steps unhurried as he explored the safehouse. Passing by an open storage room, something inside caught his eye, drawing his attention.

He stepped in and switched on the light. The room was cluttered with broken items, ropes, chairs, paint buckets, and frames leaning against the walls. Amid the mess, his gaze landed on something that stopped him in his tracks. A guitar.

For a moment, he stood still, staring at it. The sight of it stirred something deep within him, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. It was old and worn, but it called to him in a way he hadn’t expected.

He did have a distant memory of it—practicing the guitar back when he was Bell, years ago. Seeing it now felt surreal, like a fragment of a life he thought was long gone. But the real surprise was that it was still here. He couldn’t help but wonder who had kept it safe all this time. The thought lingered in his mind as he slowly reached for the guitar, the weight of the past pressing down on him. He grabbed a chair and sat down, placing the instrument gently on his lap. His fingers brushed over the strings, strumming them lightly to hear the sound.

For a moment, he hesitated, glancing toward the doorway, wondering if anyone might be watching. Part of him wanted to set it aside, but curiosity was killing him. He wanted to see if it still worked..

Gently, his hands started to do the trick, strumming the chords but at a slower pace, warming up a little before he prepares to play the instrument.

Jodie walked through the hallway, her mind restless. Ever since Vasili revealed his true colors, she couldn’t shake the anger and disappointment. It felt like he had moved on, leaving the past, and everyone who once loved him.. behind. She had trusted him like a brother, only to realise a bitter truth, and a betrayal she never thought to be possible. She was making her way to forget it all, until —

She heard a voice. A voice that puts her whole mind to a pause. That soft, melodious voice, with the strumming of guitar filled through her ears. Her eyes widened, and eyebrows furrowed.

"Temnaya noch, tol'ko puli svistyat po stepi.."

(Dark night, only bullets are whistling in the steppe..)

The sound was coming inside of the storage room, the one she just passed by. Jodie was still trying to process if this was all just a dream, or a reality. She walked back with her feet, peeking through the storage room. There, she saw Vasili, playing the guitar that was originally kept in the storage room, seated on a chair as he sang while strumming the strings of the guitar.

"Tol'ko veter gudit v provodakh, tusklo zvyozdy mertsayut.."

(Only the wind is wailing through the telephone wires, stars are faintly flickering..)

Jodie watched it all in horror. But, it was more like, as if she can't believe it. The moment Vasili continued to play the song, all of her anger suddenly vanished, and her own emotions started to take all over the place. She tried to control herself, but the visual for her was too painful to see. The flashbacks hit her head, the times when Jodie and him used to be in Die Landerbahn with Adler, Park and the rest. Vasili told Jodie that Park gave him a guitar, and he was determined to learn his favorite song. Time passed, Vasili struggled to learn it, but he didn't give up, and it was finally time to show Jodie his new-found skill.

"This is my favorite song.. I hope you like it, Jay." He strums his guitar, playing the same tune he practiced. Jodie carefully listened to him, excited to hear what the man learnt so far. The tune was so painfully familiar, and it was suddenly breaking her apart. The scene transitions back into the present, witnessing this moment.

Just like in the past, Jodie silently entered the room, not making Vasili notice, grabbing a chair and sitting on it, her hands clasped and listened to him. Her eyebrows were furrowed, lips slightly parted as she patiently listened to his song, closing her eyes.

"I poetomu, znayu, so mnoy nichego ne sluchitsya.."

(And that's why I know nothing will happen to me..)

Strumming the guitar a few more times, Vasili let the final notes fade into the silence. He remained still, the weight of the song lingering in the air around him. It felt like an echo of his own story. His struggles, his pain, his search for meaning. The melody seemed to embody his longing, perhaps even a faint glimmer of hope.

He didn’t know if he would be remembered as a hero or a villain, but he had resolved to endure it all. If suffering was the price of survival, then he would pay it. He just wanted to keep living.

Yet, the guilt gnawed at him. He hated the suffering his actions had brought to others, the pain he’d inflicted. Still, deep within, he hoped to find a way to end it all, a way to make it right.

In the distance, he heard the faint sound of someone softly sobbing. The gentle, broken cries pulled him from his thoughts, his attention instinctively turning toward the source of the sound. He saw Jodie, seated on a chair, her posture relaxed yet vulnerable, eyes still closed as if she were holding onto the remnants of the song. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks, her breaths uneven as she sniffed, her lips trembling ever so slightly. Vasili's eyebrows furrowed in worry, finding out Jodie was here the whole time when he was singing with the guitar.

"You?" Vasili softly whispers at her, keeping the guitar aside. Jodie opened her eyes, and stared at the man back with her teary eyes, immediately wiping them off.

"You still remember the song, do you?" Jodie asked, moving her attention away from Vasili.

"I.. I do. I thought I completely forgot it." Vasili replied, shrugging gently.

Jodie then looked back at him. "Then where's the Vasili I know?"

Hearing this from her mouth made him silent for a sudden. He had no words to reply to Jodie's comment, but he could only cast his head down, in speechlessness.

Jodie stood up from her seat, and walked towards him, who was equally devastated as her. She kneels down to his height, and caresses his face, with the heaviest tears streaming down from her eyes.

"Please. Come back to us, Vas. We need you," Jodie sobbed, her voice trembling with desperation as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. The weight of her emotions, long repressed, spilled out in that moment.

For so long, she had believed Vasili was gone, lost forever, a memory that would never return. But when he did come back, it wasn’t the man she remembered. Instead, she was faced with a version of him she dreaded, a man shaped by pain and choices she couldn’t bear to accept.

She never wanted him to be dragged into the darkness that consumed him. All she wanted was the Vasili she once knew, the brother she had lost. She just wanted him back. And it was equally killing Vasili from the inside.

Jodie couldn’t forget the day Vasili vanished without a trace, leaving behind nothing but his stuff. Among them was his journal, filled with entries about his experiences at the safehouse, and the guitar he used to play.

Vasili had assumed they would have discarded those things long ago, forgotten with the passage of time. But Jodie would never allow that. To her, those items were pieces of him, precious memories of the brother she had loved. She held onto them, refusing to let them be lost.

Through all the years, she kept the guitar safe, carrying it with her as a reminder of who Vasili once was, and the hope that she might see that version of him again. She was longing to see Vasili too. Both of them were longing for something they had once lost. And they both were suffering because of their unattended needs.

"Wherever you are, Vas.." Jodie whispered, her voice breaking. "I know you're still there. If you can remember this song, then you can remember who you are."

She pulled back from the hug and cupped his face gently, her eyes searching his. "Please Vas, end this. Let go of your revenge and think about what truly matters. The Pantheon is about to unleash their plan, and the world is at stake. If you want to redeem yourself, to find hope again, then help us."

Jodie continued. "This path you’re on will only drag you deeper into regret. Would you really let millions suffer just to settle a score with the one person who ruined your life? Think, Vasili. The Cradle isn’t just a weapon, it’s a threat to countless innocent lives. We need you to make the right choice."

Her plea was simple but filled with hope, a call for him to return to the man she still believed in. Vasili closed his eyes, letting her words sink in as memories flooded back, the faces of those he felt he had failed. Mama. Papa. Belikov. Mason.

Maybe.. little Sofya and Maksim would suffer. Because of him?

Each name carried the weight of his guilt, a reminder of what he had lost and the choices that led him here. Jodie's words stirred something deep within him, a faint flicker of the man he used to be.

"I'm.. sorry, Jay." Vasili faintly responds. "But, I feel.. it's too late—"

"It's never too late. It never is!" Jodie said softly. "By saving others, you can save yourself too. I believe in you."

"But.."

She paused, her voice trembling. "We really need you back, Vas. Please. Just.." She tried not to break again, lowering her head down so she could hide her face from him. She didn't have the courage to face him anymore, as she stormed away, crying.

Vasili, left alone, pondered his choices. Should he continue chasing his long-held grudge, or finally confront his own pain and heal? Could he set aside revenge to fight a greater threat and save the world?

What did Perseus give him? What did the Pantheon give him? He survived, but in the end, he gained nothing. Only pain, regret, and a hollow existence. He sought meaning, but all he found was more suffering.

This was his only chance. To be finally free.

[anjumzm]

Midsummer night

A Legacy of Gods Fanfic.

Chapter 1

Hello guys, this is an amateur attempt at JerCes Daughter x LanMia Son Fanfic, all characters belong to Rina Kent, please do let me know if I should continue this or not. Thanks.

Aanya Volkov

I feel euphoric. Like how Icarus must have felt when he got too close to the sun, even though it eventually devoured him. That's exactly how I feel as I drive out of the Kings Mansion, the sideways littered with lamppost and the stone sculptures, which I don't bother studying. The weight of the item in my bag feels heavy, and as the adrenaline settles down,  I cannot help but feel that this has been too easy, way too easy, as though someone orchestrated my entire plan, I cannot help but feel as if I'm being played. No Aanya, no. Only positive thoughts.

Yes that's right, now what are the chances of any one from the mansion suspecting me of stealing? Aunt Mia loves me, so do grandpa Levi and Grandma Astrid. Although I cannot say if Uncle Landon likes me or not, since I've been told by my father ample of times to maintain my distance from him, but Im sure Gina, his daughter and my best friend might have put in a good word about me. And yet I stole from them, how's that for maintaining a good impression? Good lord. I won't call it stealing coz I'm just taking back what's ours in the first place, and in doing so I'm also taking back Dad's and my brothers peace. I won't allow anyone to mess with my family, especially some vermin who thinks that the mere purpose of everyone around him is to entertain His Majesty, to put our honor on line for his daily dose of entertainment. I'm talking about none other than that psycho cosplaying as a perfect gentleman to live by societal standards. Theodore Sokolov King. One of the heirs to the King empire, the youngest influencal business man in UK. Even if we're archnemesis, there's no denying the fact that he's a genuis gifted with a face that's sculpted to perfection, as though God took his own sweet time making him,deep blue eyes, soft brown hair, sharp jawline and dimples to make him look like a hansome london boy with a face made for vogue magzines. He wears the camouflage of a perfect gentleman through and through, so much so that one cannot help but be drawn to his charisma, and till the time we realize that his beauty and charm is nothing but a mirage, it's too late.Although by God's grace we've never interacted before, his reputation precceeds him, not only is he a known name amongst the top business tycoons in the UK and US, but he's gradually been making his place known in the Bratva too, no thanks to his grandparents influence. It's come to the point that even the previous Pakhan, Kirill Morozov trusts him with tasks that he'd usually deem my brothers to be worthy of, and this has been eating them, even though they don't show it. My family has been influencal and a known and trusted name in the Bratva, all thanks to my Father and Grandfather who've made a strong organization within the Bratva, that rivals the CIA and Mossad. My father and brothers are the most trusted sources and advisors to the Pakhan or so was the case before "Your Majesty" thought better to make our live miserable. And now, we'll have to prove our loyalty and resourcefulness to the current Pakhan, Vaughn Morozova, all over again. If only he would keep to his turf and not mess with ours. I wonder why he's taken such a sudden intrest in bratva's business when he's never really paid attention before, I'm sure it's not to help his cousin Dominic Sokolov, Uncle Niko and uncle Brans Son, the one who'll be inherenting his father's position in the Bratva's inner circle along with my brothers. Dom is my elder brother Aaron Volkov's friend, but his relation with the vermin makes it difficult for him to take sides during meetings, my brothers understand this and do not except him to do the same, but the last meeting where Pakhan assigned the shipment duty given to my brother to someone else,put a strain on their friendship too. All because of that cockroach, gods how I hate his face, and I'm not at all a violent person. I prefer keeping to myself, reading books in my room, hanging out with my friends and cousins. I never partake in any activities related to the Mafia, which  is what's expected of me, but this time I couldn't stand it, the pain in my elder brother Aaron's eyes, the pure rage in Calebs, of how they feel as though they've let down my father and Grandpa, although that's not the case. My father and Grandpa are most proud of all our achievements both big and small, and would never shy from letting us know the same, but this was the first time that a task given to volkov's had been reassigned to someone else, namely His Majesty. I'll make sure he's humiliated just like he stepped on my family's pride. Even if I burn in the process.

[cephalon-sancti]

Hey Emily? You know Sokolov had people kidnapped off the streets to do experiments on with the Rat Plague, right? He wasn't just some funny weirdo uncle, the man deserved to be put in the cage at the Hounds Pits pub. Corvo literally walks in on him denying life-saving treatment to some poor woman he also had in a cage.

At least Piero Joplin was contrite when you caught him peeping on Callista taking a bath.

[wow-thisismylifeiguess]

Price and Nikolai meet and marry young. Their relationship is fast and like fire, burns hot and bright and quick. There’s no denying that they love each other, not a doubt in their minds, but there’s something that constantly has them at each other’s throats.

They’re undeniably good at their jobs when they work together, but Laswell has had to step in one too many times to prevent the bruises they come home with from coming for each other. They are hot and aggressive. The good times are perfect. The bad times are hell.

When Price hands over the divorce papers, Nikolai can’t find any sort of excuse to rip them to shreds and pretend they dont exist. The same way no one can deny they’re in love, he can’t deny that staying together will eat away at both of them until there’s absolutely nothing left. It’s bad. Very bad. So he signs his name, doesn’t let his eyes linger too long on the pages beyond where he has to write. Price doesn’t say a word. What’s done is done. Price leaves, and Nik stays.

They’re divorced, but work is work. Events continue to drag them together time and time again, and somehow, things are better than they ever were in the past. Nikolai asks how Price is doing. Checks in. Inquires about the task force he’s leading. Price returns the favor. Asks if Nikolai is keeping himself healthy. Jokes that he’s looking a little softer around the waist. Nikolai responds that he can still take Price any day. Price asks if that’s so. There’s a shine in his eyes. They’re clearly not talking about sparring.

Nothing happens, because both of them put that part of their relationship behind them years ago. It’s over and done with, but they can still be friends. Coworkers. Their teamwork is still unmatched, having each other’s backs like no other duo. Unstoppable when together.

Laswell is who talks to Price first. She’s far from blind, has been holding off on saying anything for…/months/, because she was unsure if it was her place. But as John’s best friend, she’s not going to stay quiet any longer.

The question shocks Price to his core. Is he still in love with Nikolai? That’s….that’s ridiculous. Those days are dead and gone, they’ve both moved on, but-

Ah, who is he kidding. John Price never stopped loving Nikolai Sokolov. He’s gone to sleep every night since the day those papers were signed wondering if they’d made a mistake, wondering if they could have made it work. But at the same time, he knew it was impossible. He remembers their last fight. Fingers around his neck, his own returning the same treatment. Kate screaming for them to /stop/.

Laswell takes his silence for what it is. A yes, plain and simple. But it’s not like he can do anything about it. That’s what he keeps telling himself, what he always tells himself. Laswell gives him an unreadable look. They don’t keep secrets. It makes him nervous, but the whole conversation slips his mind when soon enough, it’s time to return to work. Even a few months later, when given another opportunity to work with Nikolai again, Price doesn’t dare allow himself to think about it.

Not even when once the job is over, Nikolai invites him for drinks. Not even when Price shows up, dressed in his best clothes, and notices that Nikolai has done the same.

Not until Nikolai is sliding his palms over his cheeks, leaning in, a careful expression on his face.

“We’re old men, Johnathan. Been through a lot. But I have to ask, even after everything. Can you give me a second chance?”

There’s heat in his gut. Nothing explosive, just warmth, deep and calm. Familiar. Comforting.

Price says /yes/.

[allariablack]

NikoBran – Friend ❌Boyfriend ✅

Brandon King had always known that Nikolai Sokolov was it for him. There was no question in his mind, no hesitation in his heart. Nikolai had ruined him for anyone else. There would be no other, no alternative, no second choice—just Nikolai, with his sharp grin, easy laughter, and eyes that saw straight through him.

But Brandon was a coward.

He had never once said it aloud. Not the way he should. Not with the kind of conviction that Nikolai deserved. Instead, he had let the words rot inside his chest, let them fester beneath the weight of his own fears.

So he kept Nikolai in the shadows.

He pretended not to notice the flash of hurt in Nikolai’s eyes when he said, “Pretend you don’t know me in public.”

He convinced himself that Nikolai’s goofiness afterward meant he was fine, that he didn’t mind, that he understood why Brandon needed to keep them a secret.

He ignored how Nikolai would practically light up when someone casually asked, “Are you two together?” only for that light to die the second Brandon laughed and brushed it off with a, “We’re just friends.”

He acted like he didn’t see the way Nikolai’s shoulders slumped whenever he pulled his hand away in public, as if being seen with Nikolai was some kind of sin.

But he did see.

Brandon saw it all.

It was in the quiet moments, when no one was around, that the weight of his actions pressed down on him the hardest. When they were alone in his apartment, tangled up in sheets and silence, Nikolai would look at him like he was the most precious thing in the world, like he was Brandon’s, and Brandon was his, and that nothing else mattered.

Brandon knew he had that look too, the one that told the truth even when his mouth spewed lies.

He knew because Nikolai wasn’t stupid.

And that was what made it all worse.

Nikolai knew. He had to know. Because he stayed. He stayed even though Brandon treated him like a dirty secret. He stayed even though Brandon denied him in public. He stayed even though he deserved better.

And Brandon?

Brandon was selfish enough to let him.

It wasn’t until one night, when Nikolai was sleeping beside him, his face soft in the dim glow of the city lights, that the realization hit Brandon like a fist to the gut.

If he lost him—if one day, Nikolai decided he was done waiting, done hoping, done pretending that it didn’t hurt—Brandon would break. He would shatter into something unfixable. Because this wasn’t just some passing thing. This wasn’t just love.

This was forever.

And Brandon was the one ruining it.

The idea of losing Nikolai?

That was the one thing that terrified him.

It wasn’t enough to love him in the quiet.

It wasn’t enough to keep him behind closed doors.

Because love wasn’t meant to be hidden. It wasn’t meant to be whispered in the dark and ignored in the light.

And if Brandon didn’t do something—if he didn’t fix this—he was going to lose the one thing in this world he could never replace.

The question was: did he have the courage to fight for it?

Or would he let his fear be the thing that destroyed them?

…………………

Nikolai has always known that Brandon King was a coward.

A beautiful, brilliant, maddening coward.

And yet, Nikolai would wait. He would wait forever if he had to.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t see it—the hesitation in Brandon’s eyes before he pulled away, the way his laughter sounded just a little too forced when he denied their relationship in public, the way his fingers lingered for a heartbeat too long before slipping out of Nikolai’s grasp as if being seen with him was a sin. Nikolai wasn’t a fool. He saw it all. He felt it all.

But he never said a word.

Because for every moment of hesitation, there was another where Brandon looked at him like he was the only thing that made sense in this world. There were the nights where they lay tangled together, where Bran kissed him like he would die without him, where he whispered "mine" against Nikolai’s lips like it was a prayer. And wasn’t that enough? Wasn’t that real?

But then morning would come. And Brandon would step back into the perfect little world of the Kings, and Nikolai would once again become the secret. The unsaid.

"We’re just friends."

Brandon would laugh, easy and careless, whenever someone asked.

And Nikolai would feel something inside him crack—sharp and painful—before he forced a grin, matching Bran’s energy, as if it didn’t fucking hurt. As if his heart didn’t splinter every time.

But still, he stayed.

Because Brandon was the only person who had ever felt like home. The only person he had ever loved with the full, unrelenting force of himself. And if waiting was the price to pay, if being hidden was the cost, then so be it.

He would endure. He would be patient.

Because one day, Bran would wake up and realize.

One day, Bran would see that Nikolai wasn’t just some secret to be kept.

He was the forever that Brandon was too afraid to claim.

And Nikolai? He would wait for that day. He would wait forever.

……………….

Nikolai had dragged Brandon to this café, like always, because he was craving something sweet. Like always.

Bran had just rolled his eyes, muttering something about Niko’s addiction to sugar, but still followed without complaint. Because, really, when had he ever denied Nikolai anything?

The scent of freshly baked pastries filled the air as they settled into a corner booth. Nikolai, as usual, was already eyeing the dessert menu like it held the secrets of the universe.

A few minutes later, the waiter—a bright-eyed girl with bouncing energy—came to take their order.

Nikolai was halfway through debating between a chocolate lava cake and a strawberry shortcake when she suddenly squealed.

"Oh my God! You guys are a couple, right? You look so cute together!"

Nikolai stilled.

His heart clenched, his fingers tightening around the menu, but he didn’t look up. He knew what came next. He always did.

"We’re just frie—"

Except, the words never came.

Instead, he felt something warm—solid, grounding—enclosing his hand. Brandon’s hand.

"Yeah," Bran said, voice casual, but there was something in it—something steady, unshakable. "He’s my boyfriend."

Nikolai snapped his head toward him so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

What.

He must’ve misheard. Right?

But no—there was Bran, completely relaxed, fingers laced through his like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like this wasn’t the first time he had ever acknowledged Nikolai as his.

The waiter exploded into fangirling, gushing about how adorable they were, how she knew it the moment she saw them, how they totally gave off soulmate energy.

Nikolai didn’t hear any of it.

He was too busy short-circuiting.

Because—Brandon King just called him his boyfriend. In public. With actual witnesses.

Nikolai was still frozen even after their desserts arrived, still blinking at Bran in stunned silence

From the moment the words left his mouth—"Yeah, he’s my boyfriend"—Brandon knew there was no going back.

And maybe he should’ve done this a long time ago.

Because seeing Nikolai’s usual confident, playful smirk wiped off his face—replaced with genuine shock, awe, and the softest pink dusting his cheeks—was something Bran knew he would remember forever.

But the best part?

He wasn’t done yet.

The entire day, Bran made sure Nikolai knew exactly what he meant by those words.

It started small.

Then, when they walked out of the café, Bran interwined their fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And Nikolai? The Nikolai Sokolov?

Tripped over his own feet.

Bran caught him easily, biting back a smirk. "Careful, baby."

Niko choked.

The rest of the day was even worse.

Bran held his hand whenever he got the chance. Opened doors for him. Tugged him close.

When they stopped by a street vendor, he casually fed Niko a bite of his crepe, not even thinking twice about it.

Nikolai, on the other hand, was not okay.

"You—you—you’re doing this on purpose," Niko accused, looking like his brain had fully short-circuited.

Bran tilted his head. "Doing what?"

"This! The—" Niko waved his hands in the air, as if trying to capture whatever sorcery Bran was pulling. "The boyfriend treatment!"

Bran pretended to think about it. Then, he smirked. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Niko opened his mouth, then closed it. His ears were so red now, they could rival a fire truck.

Bran leaned in, voice dropping into a soft murmur. "You’ve waited long enough, haven’t you, Niko?"

And for the first time ever, Nikolai Sokolov was left speechless.

[mariacallous]

https://www.reuters.com/world/europe/icc-issues-arrest-warrants-against-top-russian-commanders-kobylash-sokolov-2024-03-05/

THE HAGUE, March 5 (Reuters) - The International Criminal Court (ICC) has issued arrest warrants for top Russian commanders Sergei Ivanovich Kobylash and Viktor Nikolayevich Sokolov over alleged war crimes in Ukraine, it said in a statement on Tuesday.

The ICC, which is based in The Hague, said that "there are reasonable grounds to believe that the two suspects bear responsibility for missile strikes carried out by the forces under their command against the Ukrainian electric infrastructure from at least 10 October 2022 until at least 9 March 2023".

The Court added that the incidental civilian harm and damage from the attacks would have been clearly excessive to any expected military advantage.

Ukraine's prosecutors were already investigating possible war crimes after a winter campaign of air strikes on Ukrainian energy and utilities infrastructure. Russia denies deliberately targeting civilian infrastructure in Ukraine, saying its attacks are all intended to reduce Kyiv's ability to fight.

[bardspeak]

This is my piece for the zine celebrating 10 years of dishonored: Dunwall Days and Karnaca Nights! There are leftover sales going on here: (link) that have much much more than my little character study going on. (I recommend the notebook). @10yearsofdishonoredzine

Things Beyond Forgiveness | (ao3 link)

Billie was made by knife, and now there’s nothing she sees in her body anymore but the jagged shape carved. 

He was made by knife too, she thinks, watching the Outsider in their tiny, one-room apartment. A god once, held on high - now washing the dishes of all things. They had to buy metalware so when his shaking, unpracticed hands dropped them from the sink they wouldn’t shatter across the hardwood floor. Only irritate the neighbors. 

“I’m sure I’ve done this before,” The Outsider tells her, lips thin with displeasure at himself. He said the same thing about sweeping up porcelain shards with a broom or writing in the blocky hand of an illiterate dockworker. She can’t prove or deny these claims, so she takes them at face value, nods, and lets him continue in his failure. Sometimes she finds herself getting irritated, having to reteach an adult man how to do up his tie, but then she remembers Sokolov and his shaky, fading memory - a parallel that would have the Outsider steaming and ranting at her. 

The Outsider is neither physically old nor dependent, but something in the comparison softens her demeanor. There are people she’s taken care of before, and people she’s let take care of her. She reminds herself of this every time the Outsider goes to pick up the dishes after dinner with his quivering hands. She sits and watches this vestige of a life long past curse when his hand slips. Hum absently and splash water onto their floor. 

He struggles and doesn’t have the forbearance to hide it from her, but still, sometimes she uncharitably thinks he’s doing this much better than she is. That it’s unfair. There’s a capacity to hurt in her, one she faces every day when she sees the posters bearing her name, or looks carefully at the knife in her hand and in her heart. She doesn’t think she’ll ever stop facing it. 

They’re in a dark, cold alley a few blocks away from the apartment when the Outsider speaks up, voice quiet but weighted: “You’re not what you think you are.” 

“How so?” Billie takes a sharp drag of the cigarette in her hand before offering it over, the Outsider considering it like he’s never seen one before. They’ve smoked together a few times before, hazy trails of smoke drifting through the afternoon light peeking in through the window in their apartment. Never like this though, in the early hours of the morning when Billie gets back from one of her odd jobs, knife and crossbow slung low on her belt. She’s been a killer for decades, even before Daud - there’s nothing that will ever change that. But she can’t help listening, can’t even pretend to ignore him like she would have in the beginning. 

“You can’t change what you’ve done in the past,” The Outsider says, never having lost the uncanny ability to seem like he’s reading her mind. He pauses to take a puff of the cigarette and gives a little cough with weak lungs. Before, he would have been sent into a full-on fit. “But you can’t say you would have been here, would have survived, if not for your skills. You did what you had to.” He pauses, perhaps correctly guessing that she doesn’t want to hear it. He forges on anyhow. “Maybe you can thank yourself and move on. Find a new use for your skills.” 

A bitter little laugh bursts its way out of her, unwilling. “There’s no other use for skills like mine.” 

He touches her hand, not a slip of the fingers when passing a cigarette back and forth - still holding it in his other hand - or to pull her away from watching eyes. She never realizes how little the Outsider reaches out to touch until he has. It startles her from her bitter reflection. “Skills like yours,” he starts, unsettling pale green eyes catching her own and holding them. “Are what freed me.” 

He doesn’t go on like she expects him to - like she’s used to. The lack of words to hide in leaves her flayed open. The cigarette is pressed into her hand like an afterthought as he pulls away, heels clicking against the stones of the street towards their apartment, not even sparing a glance behind to see if she’s following him. 

Eventually, she does. 

The Outsider has a pile of things laid out over their creaky wardrobe in the corner of the room. Bottles, stones, shells, pieces of bone, and books that are more scraps of paper than bound tomes are strewn over the place. So many things she can hardly categorize them all. Billie had thrown some of them out when he first started, not knowing it was a collection rather than garbage laying about. He never said anything, but the same bottle - labeled with colorful, crackling packaging - was back on top of the wardrobe when she came in the next morning. 

One day, a flask slips through his traitorous fingers and crashes to the floor, glass pieces skittering to the far corners of the room. She watches as he crouches down and picks up one of the thicker pieces, twisting it in the light in a slender hand. There’s a spot of blood beading up on his bare foot. He stands, drops the piece of glass onto the wardrobe with the rest of his collection, and steps carefully over the rest to get to their broom. 

He’s used to things slipping through his fingers, she realizes, going through her days watching him. This isn’t a collection of prized possessions, he barely gives any of them but the books a glance on any given day and never upsets if they break or tear. They’re proof of life. That if he holds something in his hands it won’t turn to dust and fall away. When she looks, there’s a shard of a porcelain plate he must have squirreled away weeks before she first saw the bottle on the wardrobe.

Never claiming to be good with words - especially not when faced with a man who spent the better part of four thousand years with nothing but - she doesn’t broach the subject. 

She does, however, hand him a small painted cameo she found one day on a job. Despite it being her reason for doing so, she still startles when she sees it placed at the forefront of his collection. He places a book - newer, the covers wearing through on the corners but little other damage - on the windowsill she likes to sit in to smoke tobacco, something the Outsider still wrinkles his nose at. She finds a piece of glass placed just so, refracting color on the wall over her bed. 

After weeks, months, a turn of the season, whatever’s holding them together in this place hardly big enough to fit them still hasn’t worn through. It’s the longest she’s spent in the same space as someone since Sokolov - since Daud - and it surprises her how few times she has to get out because she feels stifled. 

She watches him pore over a waterlogged book of his. The binding is frayed around missing chunks, and he’s read it enough times to make his own narrative out of the empty spaces. Time has loosened his muscles, barefoot feet tucked up under his legs, sitting at their meager table and muttering under his breath. She picks at a loose thread of the binding with thin, voidrite fingertips and he lets her. 

“What should I do then?” She says, continuing the conversation like it hasn’t been months of them settling into whatever this is. If he doesn’t understand, then maybe she won’t have to say it. These jagged pieces she doesn’t let anybody touch can stay sharp along with the fear. The Outsider can keep filling in the gaps to stories he’ll never have the whole picture of, despite holding pieces in his trembling hands. Despite spilling the water that smears the ink.

He raises his head to look at her, eyebrows still pinched from reading with a slight myopia, and he understands. “I believe felling a god may be the peak of your achievements,” he tells her, closing his book with more of a crunch than a snap. Only the glint in his eyes reveals his teasing. “Have you ever considered settling down?”

She huffs out a laugh, not even trying to find it in herself to be offended at the notion. That she could put the knife down and never pick it back up. Not flinching away from the edges that have already been worn down. “I’ve never considered living long enough.”

“Well,” he sniffs, taking up the mantle of the offended. He opens his book again. “Start considering it.” 

“I’m sure I’ve done this before,” he says for the millionth time later that afternoon. Billie thinks what he actually means is live. She’s sure she has too, once. She thinks she might be doing it again. 

[koukouture]

(ohhhh @entropypalefire come get ur religious trauma au pspspsppspsps)

The night of father Nikola Sokolov’s hanging is quiet. The small town simply gathers with their torches raised high to gaze upon their once beloved priest.

He is calm, quiet, and ever composed. As the wind blows and he steps up, he simply fixes his hair and allows the necklace of rope to be placed around his neck.

“Father Sokolov, you have been found guilty of conspiring with the Devil. For this, you shall be hanged” the prosecutor announces.

Nikola tilts his head, “Remind me again, what gives you the impression I have been conspiring with The Enemy?”

“You were caught helping a creature of the night, one of Satan’s most vile demons; a vampire!”

The priest sighs, “Hassen Von Fadel is no demon, he is a child of the Lord, as you all are,” Nikola declares loudly, tilting his chin up defiantly.

Several whispers suddenly fill the deep, silent night. Were they all mistaken? Are the rumours of Hassen being a vampire fake? All eyes turn to the prosecutor, Collins, who only laughs.

“Is he now?”

Nikola closes his eyes, “Yes. Under God’s great sky, you are all equal. He did not burn when I baptized him, he is surely one of you.”

Collins smirk grows wider, “You love him, don’t you?”

The assembly falls silent, but Nikola does not miss a beat.

“Of course,” Nikola holds his hands out, wincing at the ropes digging into his pale flesh. “I would never deny that. Yet you deny me the right to a trial and the right to love him.”

Collins laughs again, his booming laugh interrupting the quiet crackle of the torches. “But one can’t deny that Hassen was seen turning into a mist and fleeing from your church. You knew. You even gave him your blood, we found the marks on your neck!”

Nikola drops his hands, looking down on the spectators and Collins raises his arm to give the command.

“Any last words, father?” he sneers.

Only now, does Nikola’s breath tremble, “My children, God is all merciful. But I can assure you, He, is not.”

The square is silent again. All the torches have been put out, and the moon simply illuminates the man covered in blood and he walks up behind Nikola.

“So, you did come” Nikola muses, “You wouldn’t miss my execution after all.” The rope around his neck suddenly drops, cut to ribbons by seemingly nothing.

Hassen frowns, “Oh, now you’re funny.” He wraps his arms around Nikola’s waist, ignoring the blood he’s smearing onto Nikola’s black priest garb.

“Why did you wait, did you want me to pronounce my love for you?”

“I just needed everyone gathered in one place,” the ropes around Nikola’s wrists fall too. “Except for the children. They’re all sleeping.”

“How merciful of you.”

Nikola turns to face him, bringing his hand up to wipe some blood from Hassen’s chin. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone, initially. But I didn’t want witnesses.”

The white haired man hums, “Will you turn me then?”

“I’d sooner walk into the sun than do that,” Hassen grabs his hands, bringing them up to his chest. There is no heart beating there, but Nikola doesn’t care, not anymore. “Just come with me. Away from here, away from these… animals.”

Nikola smiles, “Alright. Take me away.”

[mokhosz-nafo]

☦️

[executiveeducation89]

Top 10 Ranking Guide to Kiev, Ukraine – The CEO’s Guide to Top Companies, Government Agencies, and Investment Executive Education

Introduction

Kiev, the capital and largest city of Ukraine, is a vibrant metropolis rich in history and culture. Situated on the Dnieper River, Kiev has been a significant political, economic, and cultural center for centuries. Known for its stunning architecture, including the iconic Saint Sophia Cathedral and the golden-domed Kyiv Pechersk Lavra, the city is a blend of ancient traditions and modern development. The Ukrainian government operates as a semi-presidential republic, characterized by a separation of powers among three branches: executive, legislative, and judicial. The head of state is the President of Ukraine, currently Volodymyr Zelenskyy, while the head of government is the Prime Minister, currently Denys Shmyhal. 

The executive branch consists of the President and the Cabinet of Ministers. The President is responsible for foreign affairs and national security, while the Cabinet oversees domestic policies. The legislative branch, known as the Verkhovna Rada, is a unicameral parliament that makes laws and oversees government functions. Members of the Verkhovna Rada are elected by popular vote. The judicial branch operates independently to ensure that laws are interpreted fairly through various levels of courts. 

Ukraine's political system emphasizes democratic values and civil liberties, providing a framework for governance despite ongoing challenges. Ukrainian is the official language spoken in Kiev; however, Russian is also widely used due to historical influences. The rule of law is a fundamental principle in Ukraine, ensuring that all citizens are treated equally under the law. 

Kiev's unique blend of historical significance and modern innovation makes it an attractive location for businesses and executives seeking growth opportunities. The city's robust infrastructure supports a thriving economy while its cultural richness enhances quality of life for residents and visitors alike. 

Top Country Economic Data

GDP Size in USD: Approximately $200 billion

GDP per Capita: About $4,500

GDP Annual Growth Rate: Around 3%

Employment Rate: Approximately 60%

Inflation Rate: Generally around 6% to 8%

Foreign Direct Investment: Moderate levels due to ongoing geopolitical challenges

The best year for annual growth was 2017 when the economy rebounded strongly after previous downturns. Ukraine consistently ranks on the Human Development Index (HDI), achieving its highest ranking in recent years. However, it faces challenges on the Corruption Perceptions Index where it ranks lower compared to many European nations. 

Top 10 Ranking Lists

Trade Partners

1. Germany 2. Poland 3. Russia 4. Italy 5. Belarus 6. UK 7. France 8. Sweden 9. Hungary 10. Czech Republic

Industries

1. Agriculture 2. Manufacturing 3. Information Technology 4. Services 5. Construction 6. Energy 7. Tourism 8. Chemicals 9. Mining 10. Food Processing

Employers

1. Kiev City Council 2. National Bank of Ukraine 3. Ukrainian Railways (Ukrzaliznytsia) 4. Oschadbank (Savings Bank) 5. Naftrade (Oil & Gas) 6. Ukrtelecom (Telecommunications) 7. DTEK (Energy) 8. Vodafone Ukraine 9. PwC Ukraine 10. Deloitte Ukraine

Largest Companies by Revenues

1. Naftrade 2. DTEK 3. Ukrnafta 4. Miratech (IT Services) 5. Ukrtelecom 6. Oschadbank 7. Metinvest Holding 8. MHP SE (Agriculture) 9. Centrenergo 10. Interpipe

Publicly-traded Companies by Market Capitalization

1. MHP - Yuriy Kosyuk 2. Ukrnafta - Oleksandr Khoroshkovsky 3. DTEK - Maxim Timchenko 4. Centrenergo - Ihor Sokolov

Healthcare Institutions

1. Olexandrivska Hospital 2. Kyiv City Clinical Hospital 3. Hospital No. 12 4. Hospital No. 1 5. Hospital No. 4

Investment Firms or Banks AUM

1. BlackRock 2. Vanguard 3. State Street Global Advisors 4. Crédit Agricole 5. BNP Paribas Asset Management

Government Agencies Employees

1. Kiev City Council 2. Ministry of Health 3. Ministry of Education 4. Ministry of Justice 5. Ministry of Interior

Highest Paid Jobs

1. CEOs in Finance 2. Lawyers 3. Medical Professionals 4. IT Managers 5. Engineers

CEOs Ranked by Compensation

1. Yuriy Kosyuk - MHP 2. Oleksandr Khoroshkovsky - Ukrnafta 3. Maxim Timchenko - DTEK

Top Ranking Executive Education Organization in Kiev

The top institute is the Executive Education Institute in Kiev, Ukraine for executive education programs and executive seminars is the Executive Education Institute. It is one of the highest-ranking global institutes in the field of CEO education, Government training, and CIO investment management professional development offering executive programs in many cities and countries including Kiev, Ukraine. The executive education programs and executive seminars are offered in-person (in-classroom) and via remote or distance learning programs for busy CEOs, C-Level executives and executive candidates. Also offering corporate action learning and corporate retreats. To learn more visit: Executive Education: Executive Programs, Courses and Seminars in Kiev, Ukraine

Best Seasons / Months to Visit & Attractions

Best Months: Spring (April-June) and Autumn (September-November) provide mild weather ideal for exploring without heavy tourist crowds. 

Top Attractions: Include: 1. Kyiv Pechersk Lavra (Monastery of the Caves) 2. St. Sophia Cathedral 3. Maidan Nezalezhnosti (Independence Square) 4. Andriyivskyy Descent (Andrew's Hill) 5. Vladimir Hill Park 6. National Museum of Ukrainian History 7. Pirogovo Open-Air Museum 8. Kyiv Fortress (Kyivska Fortetsia) 9. Olympic National Sports Complex 10. Gulliver Shopping Mall

Official Websites

Ukrainian Government

Kyiv City Council

Visit Kyiv Tourism Website

Executive Education

[dingleberrytimes]

Russians Explain Why They Support Putin’s Decision to Label LGBT Movement As ‘Terrorist Organization’

MOSCOW, RUSSIA - Russia has made rounds in the media yet again after its government, led by President Vladimir Putin, labeled the LGBT movement as a “terrorist organization”, claiming that LGBT activists were “practicing an extremist ideology.” This was obviously quite controversial within the international community and LGBT activists within Russia, but we wanted to know what everyday Russians thought of this definition. So the Dingleberry Times travelled to Moscow to see what the average Russian had to say about their government labeling the LGBT movement a “terrorist organization.”

Mark Kuznetsov (Retired)

“I feel like it makes things more fair if we’re all equally denied basic civil rights.”

Doris Morozov (Housewife)

“I’d support the LGBT community if it wasn’t for the fact that they were all homosexual.”

Simon Mhakadev (Accountant)

“Maybe this will inspire Lil Nas X to make good music for once.”

Dimitri Vassiliev (Sperm Bank Coordinator)

“I can totally understand President Putin’s frustrations about the gays. I run a sperm bank, and I almost always have to fire each gay that I end up hiring because they’re always drinking on the job.”

Leopold Smirnov (PE Teacher)

“I don’t have a problem with anybody being gay just as long as they’re treated as a pariah and are shunned away from the rest of society.”

Ivan Birichsov (College Student)

“I pray that the gays won’t stop making all those really hot erotic books because of this.”

Sara Andreev (Jeweler)

“I guess we won’t be seeing a Village People reunion tour in Russia anytime soon.”

Nimir Ashakev (Restaurant Manager)

“That’s a slap in the face to real terrorists who risk their lives to spread their hateful ideologies.”

Isaac Sokolov (Drug Dealer)

“I mean, I thought the movie ‘Bros’ was pretty unfunny too, but calling the LGBT community a bunch of terrorists because of it seems like overkill to me.”

Alexander Agapov (Engineer)

“How come the gays get to be labeled as terrorists but us straight people don’t get to be? Seems a bit unfair, don’t you think?”

[summarychannel]

Urgent and dangerous Russia expands its defense production in preparation for the invasion of new Ukrainian cities

The latest news from Russia and Ukraine today and developments in the Russian-Ukrainian war and the conflict between the Russian army and the Ukrainian army

Starting with Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, who made an official apology to the Jewish community in Canada after the Canadian Parliament honored the Ukrainian fighter Jaroslav Honke, who fought in the ranks of the Nazis during World War II and participated in the Holocaust against the Jews in Central and Eastern Europe. Canadian Parliament Speaker Antonio Rota also formally submitted his resignation after apologizing for honoring Honke, and confirming that he stood by the fact that he had fought in the ranks of the Nazis late after the honor had taken place.

On the other hand, the Russian Ministry of Defense denied that the commander of the Black Sea Fleet, Viktor Sokolov, was killed during the recent Ukrainian bombing that targeted the fleet command headquarters in the port of Sevastopol in the Crimean Peninsula, by broadcasting video clips of Sokolov while he was in Sevastopol, in addition to his attendance at a video conference meeting with the chiefs of staff in The Russian army was led by Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu.

In Ukraine, the United States of America began delivering Abrams tanks to Kiev as part of a new military aid package. The head of Ukrainian intelligence, Kirilo Budanov, confirmed that the Abrams would not be deployed on the front lines of the fighting for fear of it falling into the hands of Russian forces, while American reports confirmed that the US Department of Defense (the Pentagon) handed over Abrams tanks to Ukraine after removing the secret technologies inside them for fear that the Russians would seize them. .

Finally, Russian President Vladimir Putin appointed General Turshev as the new commander of the Wagner militia, succeeding Commander Yevgeny Prigozhin, who was killed in a plane crash about a month ago. Putin also announced a new mobilization with the advent of the fall, including 130,000 soldiers, perhaps indicating a Russian counterattack in the coming months.

#Russia #Ukraine #latest news

[anjumzm]

Midsummer Night

A Legacy of Gods Fanfic

JerCes Daughter x LanMia Son

Chapter 17

Theodore Sokolov King

I could feel it in the air, adrenaline and excitement forged together. Tonight, as per my plan, would be the night I'd pull the rug from that rat Abazi’s feet. And then I'd get back to much more important tasks, like planning my dinner date with the little bird. Since it was crucial for me to make my move today, I'd had to postpone my date. That rat would pay dearly for ruining my me time with Aanya.

Gods, why can't I stop thinking about the damn girl? It's not like she's the only girl in London or the entire world.

But she's definitely the only one you have eyes for.

True. Even I couldn't deny the fact that I've never been this invested in anyone before. I had no patience to deal with the emotions that came with people, and eventually, the disappointment on their faces when they realized that I'm as unmoving as a stone when it comes to things like anger, despair, grief, or anything. I just couldn't bring myself to... feel. But for the first time, I felt. That day in my office, I'd felt desire and desperation to own something, and I wished to feel it over and over again. Somehow the Volkov princess had managed to imprint herself on me, and the worst part was she didn't realize it yet. No one did. Except for my Dad, because he was like me, and there's no way one can hide something from him. He's the prototype, after all. I'm a mere copy.

Speak of the Devil. My phone rang with my Dad's name on the notification bar.

"Quite a day to cause mayhem, isn't it?" his voice, as always, calm yet imposing.

"You're right, and I plan to please," I replied, a smirk tugging at my lips.

"As expected, Son. I always knew my genes were superior. Time you proved it to everyone. But be careful, Abazi is not as daft as you think him to be, and neither is Jeremy's son. I hope you've planned this through."

"You know me, Dad. After all, you're the author of whatever I am."

"True, but do let me know if you need help."

"Sure thing."

"Be safe, Son."

I smiled, knowing very well how Dad didn't show emotions often. But his actions always spoke to us. He loved me and Gina in his own way, but Mom—his entire existence was tied to her, to the point that he'd burn the world to keep her safe.

I gathered my gun, a gift from Grandpa Kyle, and headed to the SUV. "Pasha, is everything in place?"

"All good, Boss. We're waiting for your orders," Pasha replied through the phone.

"Good. This cannot go wrong, Pasha. I hope you understand."

"Sure, Boss. You need not worry; we're well prepared."

"Forward our location to Aaron Volkov. We'll be meeting halfway. Hopefully, things go smoothly with dialogue and without guns and fists."

I cut the call. Time for some action.

We met halfway as per our plan. As usual, Aaron had a scowl on his face. My soon-to-be brother-in-law didn't like the fact that we were working together, that he had to take my help.

"Lovely day, isn't it, brother-in-law?" I greeted him with a smirk.

"Stop calling me that, you psycho. I won't shy away from turning your good day into a bad one," Aaron snapped.

"Always the pleasant one. Remind me to team up with Caleb for adventures next time; he's the more intelligent of you guys, after all."

"Keep my family out of your business, King. You won't like the consequences."

"Not possible. After all, your sister is my business and by extension, so is her family."

"You little shi—" Aaron lunged, throwing a punch.

I sidestepped, catching his hand midway. "Let's continue this sweet talk some other day. I'm sure we have pressing matters at hand, don't you think?"

Aaron glared at me, yanking his hand back. "Lead the way."

Inside the warehouse, the air was thick with tension. Abazi stood in the center, surrounded by his men, a smug grin on his face.

"Theodore King and Aaron Volkov, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Abazi drawled, appearing confused, yet offering us a polite smile. He knew he was outmatched.

I cut to the chase. "We’re here for the Black Book you stole from the Volkovs."

"Black Book? What black book? I have no idea what you're talking about."

Before I could respond, the doors behind us creaked open. Two of my men dragged in Alexei, bruised and beaten. Alexei, my planted spy, was about to play his part.

"Boss, this guy was trying to run," one of my men announced, shoving Alexei forward.

Alexei fell to his knees, looking up at us with feigned fear. "Please, don’t hurt me. I was only following orders."

Aaron stepped forward, his patience wearing thin. "What orders? Where’s the book?"

Alexei hesitated, his eyes darting to Abazi before settling back on Aaron. "Abazi had me keep the Black Book hidden. He didn't want anyone to know its location."

Abazi’s expression shifted from smug to shock. "What? That’s a lie! I don’t have your book, Aaron. Theodore King, you fucking bastard..." He moved forward to punch me, but Aaron caught him by his collar.

Abazi’s men stepped forward, raising their guns, but they were outnumbered. Our men slipped behind them, putting them all at gunpoint.

Aaron motioned one of his men forward. He came up and bound Abazi.

"Aaron, what the fuck? We're allies, remember? What's going on?"

"You dare cross us. You've become emboldened, haven't you? What did you think, hmm? That you would blackmail us and we'd bend to your whims as and when you please? You forgot that we're the Volkovs, and gods damn me if I let a rat like you challenge us."

"Aaron, you're—" Aaron backhanded him.

"Shhh....Don't talk. The more you keep quiet, the better." He called Alexei forward. His men punched him in the gut, making him drop to his knees. "Where's the book, and I warn you, do not lie. My patience has already run thin."

"It's in his basement. I kept it there myself on Boss’s orders."

"What?? What orders are you talking about, Alexei, you piece of shit! I'll kill you!" Abazi shouted, struggling against his bonds.

And while all this drama was going on, all I could think about was how good Aanya looks in black, how her eyes shine whenever she feels she's made her point in a conversation, or how her and Aaron's hair are the same shade. They have the same eye shape,but their similarities end there; he looks like a wild bull while my birdie looks ethereal.

Priorities.

Before Aaron killed Abazi and my spy Alexei, I stepped in. "Alexei, was that your name? Now, you said that the book's in the basement, and how you personally kept it there. My men here will search the entire place, and if what you say is wrong, I'll leave your fate in Mr. Volkov's hands here."

"Please don't kill me, I'm telling the truth."

What a performance. Remind me to pay him double the sum.

Just when I was about to order my men, Aaron stopped me and signaled his men to look around the basement. "I still don't trust you or your men, King."

"Ouch. I'm hurt," I mockingly put my hand on my heart.

As expected, soon enough, one of Aaron's men came out with the book in his hand.

"Boss. We found this."

"Abazi, you motherfucker!" Aaron all but choked the guy. Before he could kill him, I intervened.

"Now, now, he needs to be alive, if only to appear before the Bratva and give up the southern port's control to you."

"What makes you thi—" Before the rat could even complete his sentence, Aaron kicked him in the face.

"Listen here, you piece of shit, and listen carefully. You'll kiss our bloody feet if  I ask you to. You see, I literally hold your life in my hands. So during the next Bratva meet, you'll appear all calm and collected and give up the southern ports control to us. If not, trust me, I'd kill you, and when I'm done, not even your loved ones would be able to recognize you. Oh, and don't you dare try to outsmart me. I have eyes and ears everywhere. One wrong move and I'll shoot you between the eyes."

Abazi coughed and spat blood out. "Okay, okay. I'll do as you want. So leave me the fuck alone."

As Aaron and the Volkovs departed, I lingered behind. Abazi, now free of his bindings, approached me, his eyes burning with hatred.

"You think you’ve won, Theo? This isn’t over. I'll hit you where it hurts the most," Abazi spat.

I laughed coldly. "Weak men have weaknesses, Abazi. I don’t."

Abazi’s eyes gleamed with malice. "You don't have a weakness that I know of yet, but you will. And when you do, I'll be sure to exploit it just as you did today. I hope this little stunt was worth it."

I stepped closer, my voice a dangerous whisper. "Try it, and you'll regret it. Remember, this was me playing nice."

With that, I turned on my heel, leaving Abazi to stew in his defeat. As I walked away, my mind raced with thoughts of the future and the new threats that loomed on the horizon. But for now, I had secured my place and protected my interests, and that was a victory worth savoring. King style.