#Look at the 'ruling' Tsar!

[stromuprisahat]

Siege and Storm- Chapter 16 (Leigh Bardugo)

Yeah, this is played as fun, but are we gonna pretend it didn't totally happen?

When Grisha were even less than they are now, and his body was one of few currencies in which the powerful might be interested?

That Aleksander "I breathe for The Goal" Morozova would deny such advances, only because they might make him feel unpleasant?

Where's the line regarding rape, if you can't afford to say no? If you won't risk losing whatever influence your people paid for with their blood?

[a-koschyei]

re: koschei's philosophy in the context of war

he is the worst and i will be the first to say it, but i also want to emphasize that his sense of principles and overall mentality ( in almost every context tbh ) is of someone in the middle of war, whether real or perceived. thus, his behavior and mode of operating isn't to be evil, it's for the sake of surviving, winning, enacting his view of justice, and/or saving his country/faction. and quite honestly he is a tricky bitch first and killing machine second. meaning, his philosophy is very machiavellian rather than one that revels in destruction or makes a show of his full military force with little regard to their damage ( this is actually where his ego is not at work ).

granted, he is not selfless. he will let the world burn down before he does, but if he didn't look out for his own soldiers and chyerti, there is simply no way he'd be a successful usurper capable of rallying them to his side the way he has. he is not nice, he is authoritative and militant, but he is nonetheless effective and appealing to them because his tactics are centered around: a) knowing when to have no mercy or hesitation to strike at an enemy when he feels bloodshed is required (in his mind, being ruthless now means avoiding a bigger or prolonged struggle later and depending on the context of this..... he may actually be correct ) but more importantly; b) when to use wits and deception to avoid the death and unnecessary bloodshed of his own forces.

" all warefare is based on deception. hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; [...] hold out baits to entice the enemy. feign disorder, and crush him [...] pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant [...] if he is taking ease, give him no rest [..] if his forces are united, separate them [...] attack him when he is unprepared. appear when you are not expected. " ( the art of war, sun tzu )

this is above all else koschei's go-to stategy. essentially, have the enemy be the fool who takes themselves out, or let another force exert the effort to destroy them before he or his army needs to step in. minimal damage to them is in fact the priority because the bigger force typically wins, but also... he's not entirely heartless and disloyal. at his core, koschei hates feeling alone; comradery among his realm and military is very important to him; and avoiding as little grief and loss as possible is essential to him, even if he won't ever openly admit that to others or sometimes even himself (your boy is perpetually stuck in the denial stage).

re: how he commands & unifies his forces

again, his chyerti and soldiers would never regard him as nice, but there is a delicate balance here between being too draconian that they hate him, and too soft that they don't obey and fear him. koschei is a master when it comes to walking that fine line. he will fight alongside them, make them feel their plight is one and the same, praise and take care of them, while handsomely rewarding the ones who serve him the best to inspire overachievement. but insubordination is not tolerated and swiftly met with harsh punishment to make an example.

in the context of ruling a kingdom, this approach isn't always the best course, but in the context of running an army? maintaining that order, that unilateral obedience, that sense of fearing his disappointment or wrath a little more than the horror in front of them, is actually vital for their survival. he is not afraid to be that guy, and overall, genuinely feels this is how he shows his care -- by keeping them alive. unfortunately, this is also the only way he knows how to operate in most dynamics outside the context of a war, but he was never given the chance to behave in or learn any other way. war has always followed him, and is just too engrained in his being at this point.

[sansaorgana]

— QUICK LEARNERS

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You're sent to Giedi Prime to marry your distant cousin and become the new Na-Baroness. However, your new husband seems to ignore you. You come up with an idea how to gain his attention and you ask one of the Generals from your homeworld to teach you how to wield a blade.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — While writing my fanfic "Forbidden Fruit" I was inspired by the mediterranean and islamic cultures creating the Reader's homeworld. This time I was inspired by my own Slavic culture but as usual – the physical appearance of the Reader is not described. 💘 I really like coming up with all these new planets! Also, I decided it makes sense for the world inspired by the Slavic culture to be related to The Harkonnens, therefore Feyd and Reader are cousins but they're distantly related (as most noble people are, I guess).

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood – the Reader is injured, slight incest (distant cousins), SMUT, oral, hints of breeding kink, Feyd is a bit ooc in my opinion but... so what? he's cute 🤪

WORD COUNT — 7,840

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

QUICK LEARNERS

Your father, The Tsar, worked very hard to make this union happen. Baron Harkonnen had wanted his heir and nephew to marry one of The Emperor’s daughters but your father’s relentless visits, letters and arguments finally worked.

Your family was cousins with The Harkonnen bloodline. You were more used to their culture and you shared similar values. Of course your house was not as important as The Harkonnens. In fact, your planet was under The Harkonnen rule and your father only governed it in their name although his family had been allowed to keep their titles.

Giedi Prime was an industrial planet without any nature which was the opposite of your homeworld. Morana was mostly dark green – a never ending forest full of valuable resources. Sadly, most of them were being transported to Giedi Prime for nearly nothing in return. Your father was determined for The Baron to make it up to your people for all the centuries of colonisation and turn their Grand Duchess into The Harkonnen Baroness.

Your home world was supplying Giedi Prime with important raw materials and fearsome warriors that were known all over the galaxy as ruthless beasts in combat. Growing up in such an environment, you would easily adapt to Giedi Prime even though it lacked the greenery completely. You would make a much better Baroness than any spoiled daughter of The Emperor. Those were your father’s arguments at least.

So, you were sent to Giedi Prime with dozens of heavy wooden chests filled with your most precious belongings. Everything you loved, everything that was defining you – it had to fit in these boxes. You couldn’t take the forests with you nor the rivers, the songs of your people, the smile of your mother, the warmth of the fireplace. All you could take were the dresses and jewels, a few books. And a burden of the realisation how big responsibility had been placed upon your shoulders. To make your parents proud and to become a good na-baroness… and then Baroness. To give heirs.

You knew Feyd-Rautha from all the official ceremonies. You had never talked to him before, he would only greet you with a head nod and a word cousin in his low, raspy voice that was sending shivers of discomfort down your spine. A few times before you had watched him fight in the arena. He was an incredible warrior but his combats were for show which was disappointing for a woman from Morana – a planet known for its art of warfare.

You weren’t scared of him and you weren’t taken aback by his Harkonnen nature nor looks. You were used to The Harkonnens visiting your planet or you visiting theirs with your parents for official events and celebrations. However, you were not pleased with this union either. He didn’t seem to be a pleasant man and you didn’t like the responsibility that came with this marriage.

Your wedding was grand. Every governor and leader of the planet under The Harkonnen rule was invited. Your dress was white, decorated with traditional red embroidery of your people. On your head there was a flower crown made out of flowers that grew on Morana. But seeing all the people around you, you quickly realised it probably was the last time you’d wear something white. No one around was wearing any colour except for black. The only white clothes you could see were the ones of the servants.

The wedding party was a display of power and violence but it wouldn’t make a girl from your planet flinch. You focused on the cake and tried to remember all the advice your mother had given to you regarding your upcoming wedding night.

She had been straightforward with you. A strong Tsarina like her would never hesitate or shy away. She had told you it would be best if you took your husband from behind so you wouldn’t have to look into his face. And she had made it clear that the marriage should be consummated. No matter how much it would hurt.

You observed your new husband with the corner of your eye but he looked the same as his wedding kiss had felt – bored and unimpressed. Cold.

Around midnight he stood up to leave the table without making any announcements. Panicked, you glanced at your new servant girls and they nodded at you. So, you stood up as well and gathered the fabric of your dress to lift it gently and follow him down the corridor.

He walked fast, you could barely catch up. His silence was heavy between you two. After all, you were his wife now – you were supposed to share a life together – but he chose to treat you like air instead.

When the doors leading to his chambers opened, you entered them right after your new husband. That was when he turned around as if he was surprised. He looked you up and down with contempt and you realised that he had not been pleased with this union.

Perhaps because you were not The Emperor’s daughter. Perhaps he wasn’t finding you attractive enough.

“Cousin,” he drawled as usual.

“Can you not call me that anymore?” You sighed.

“Wife,” you swore there was a shadow of a smirk on his face. But he didn’t say anything else and you felt helpless. You didn’t know how to talk to him.

You tried to remember your mother’s words. You weren’t there to have conversations with him.

“Husband,” you nodded your head at him and he watched with tilted head as you approached his huge black bed and bent over.

“What are you doing?” He snorted at you.

You couldn’t understand. You furrowed your brows and turned your head around. His sneering facial expression embarrassed you but you stayed in your position.

“Would you rather take me the other way around? I didn’t expect you to be a romantic,” you commented.

“I do not intend to take you at all,” Feyd shook his head. “I’m going to sleep. You do whatever,” he shrugged his arms and began to undress.

Clumsily, you straightened yourself and smoothed out the wrinkles of your dress. Once he was in his underwear, without a word he got under the cover and ignored you completely.

You watched in shock as he began to drift off to the land of dreams. You had no idea what to do. Not only you had humiliated yourself but also you had failed to consummate the marriage.

You crouched down and picked up all the pieces of clothing he had scattered all over the floor. Like a dutiful wife already, you folded them neatly and put them away on the chair by his desk. Then you removed the flower crown and your dress, thanking all the gods above that it was not a complicated piece because you had no idea how you’d manage to do that without your servants’ help. You tried to be as quiet as possible while doing that, not wanting to wake Feyd up and cause his anger.

Once you were in your linen underdress, you decided to just join him in the huge bed and go to sleep as well. You were laying as far away from him as possible as you didn’t want to bother him. It was no easy task because he decided to sleep right in the middle of it like he had forgotten already that he was married now and had to share.

You didn’t understand the situation you had found yourself in. When the small orb of light by your bedside turned off, you stared at the pitch black room as all your limbs tensed. You could hear Feyd’s soft snores and the distant sounds of your wedding party, the firework splashes of white ink in the night sky. Yet, you – the bride and the new na-baroness – just laid on the edge of the bed, feeling lonely and humiliated.

The weeks passed and you remained Feyd’s wife by name only. You shared your chambers with him but he was always awake before you and in the evening you were often asleep by the time he would join you in bed. There were days when you weren’t seeing each other at all. He was busy with training for his fights but also with fucking his concubines. You had found out about all of them from your servant girls.

The most important ones were three scary cannibalistic harpies. The servants were terrified of them because they could end up as their meal any time. There were also other women in your husband’s life but they were regular pleasure slaves and they did not matter as much. With his harpies he seemed to share some sort of bond.

Of course. Now it made sense. How could you even compare to such creatures? However, you did not even want to. You just hoped Feyd would finally be reminded – by his uncle or the medic – that he had to fulfil his duties and produce an heir.

You felt lonely and rejected. Your duties were not many and you quickly realised that most of them were nothing but a show off – just like your husband’s fights in the arena. It was probably because you were a woman and a new addition to the family. The Baron would never actually put you in charge of anything important.

Your only companions were your servant girls. You grew attached to them but they were no friends. Not because you thought of them as less but because of their timid personality. They were terrified of The Harkonnens and they were often trembling whenever they spotted your annoyance. Such a dynamic could not be a base of any real valuable friendship although your heart was breaking for them.

They had told you that the people of Giedi Prime liked you. You were not like your husband nor his family and you looked different because of the pigment of your skin and your hair. Sometimes, to your new black Harkonnen attire you would add a jewellery or a flower crown from your homeworld. The citizens of Giedi Prime adored the additional splash of colour. You expected Feyd-Rautha to scold you for that but he did not. He seemed not to care at all about you and what you were doing.

You had tried everything to get his attention and to seduce him. You had started to wear more revealing nightgowns to bed but he would ignore you. You had walked in on him taking a bath on purpose – pretending it was an accident. He hadn’t even flinched.

You had been asking him things about Giedi Prime and The Harkonnen history – making a fool of yourself by asking him things you had known already. He would always answer dryly and coldly; often without even sparing you a glance. Then he would go on ignoring you.

You had tried to move closer to him in bed at night. Pretending to be asleep, you had adjusted your body slowly until your arms touched. He had woken up abruptly and moved aside, stealing the blanket.

You nearly gave up but there was one more idea you were thinking of. You wanted to share a hobby with your husband. It could not be sex because he refused to touch you, which made you feel so unattractive that you didn’t even think of flirting with other men to cause his jealousy. His coldness made you feel ugly.

No, his other hobby was the blade. And you sometimes observed his training and they always made you miss your home. On Morana the warriors would train day and night just like him. You had often observed them with your father as he was telling you grand stories. And perhaps you were a lady, but you were your people’s Grand Duchess and you could handle the blade. Or so you had thought.

You found one of the generals of The Harkonnen army who was from your homeworld. He looked different than the rest of them because of his longer, braided hair and tattoos on his face that were your people’s spiritual symbols. However, like most of the important military men from your homeworld, he had been sent to Giedi Prime as a young boy to be trained under The Harkonnens. Such boys were some sort of a tribute in the same way your natural resources were. All those years spent under the black sun had made his natural skin colour a few tones paler. But amongst The Harkonnens he still looked the healthiest.

“General Bohumil,” you approached him one day after watching him train with other soldiers. He was putting his blades away as he raised an eyebrow at you, surprised to see you wandering around this part of the fortress.

“Slava, Grand Duchess (Y/L/N), My Lady Na-Baroness Harkonnen,” he bowed down. You smiled at the way he addressed you as it brought back memories of your homeworld where you were addressed as The Grand Duchess and with the word slava meaning glory as a sign of respect. “What brings you here, My Lady?” He asked.

“I was wondering if you’d find some time for me,” you began, a little nervously as he furrowed his brows. “To train me.”

“Train you, na-baroness?” General Bohumil hesitated. He was looking for the right words not to insult you in any way. “What does your husband think of such an idea, my Lady?”

“I don’t think he cares about what I do at all,” you admitted honestly with a shrug of your arms.

He would never say that but you could see the look in his eyes. You were a spoiled and bored noble lady in his eyes and he’d only waste his precious time on you. However, he was too scared to say no. Your question was not a proposition, it was an order. That was the way of The Harkonnens and that was the way your father ruled on Morana, too.

“Alright, my Lady. I can show you the basics,” he nodded. “We can start tomorrow. But I warn you, you can bruise or hurt yourself,” he added.

“I am aware. Those are natural consequences of a combat, General,” you smiled at him. “I will find you tomorrow,” you nodded and went back to your quarters, very pleased with yourself.

The first week of your trainings – and you had insisted on them to take place every day – General Bohumil was only making you stretch and prepare your muscles for the future extortion. No whining about it could cause him to change his mind. But after the first week you were finally given a blade to hold. It was quite short and light but very swift to move. The handle was wooden with your people’s spiritual symbols engraved on it. It was a traditional blade of the warriors from Morana and it made you feel so proud to be your father’s daughter to wield it. It made you feel as if you were home again.

You were also given a shield-like device that would protect you from hurting yourself or from the General hurting you in an accident. You noticed that he wore one, too, probably expecting you to clumsily wave the blade around and possibly cause some harm with it.

“Repeat the sentences after me, my Lady,” General Bohumil began to show you the most basic moves. You nearly rolled your eyes at how easy they seemed to be but you wanted to be an obedient student and to prove to him that you were not just a bored noble lady. You really wanted to learn.

He corrected your posture and the position of your feet as he lifted your elbow and then he began to show you the same sequence again.

You had many traits that were considered to be positive – it could be seen now, in the way you obediently performed your duties, how you desperately tried to make your marriage work and keep both of the families proud. You cared about your family’s honour, you were aware of the responsibility placed upon you. You would never sabotage your union; you were loyal and proud.

But you also possessed some traits that were considered to be negative – impatience was one of them. You didn’t want to keep repeating the same basic sequence a million times all over again, feeling like a child with a toy sword. You wanted to feel the adrenaline already like your husband when you watched him in combat or the warriors on your planet. Not listening to General Bohumil’s warnings, you started to spice up the sequence with the moves you had only seen in the gladiator arena before.

“My Lady, please, that is too advanced. We will get to it in the right time,” he sighed, trying his best to contain his anger. As a military man he was all about discipline and if you were a common soldier, he would lash out at you, you were sure of that. But you were his Grand Duchess and his Na-Baroness and he couldn’t even scold you. He could only calmly try to explain.

But you wouldn’t impress Feyd with the basic combat moves. You were sure that if he caught you now, he would laugh with contempt. No, you had to be better than that. And you hated to wait.

“This stupid shield,” you turned the device off as General’s eyes widened, “it’s distorting my view,” you whined.

“My Lady, please, turn it back on,” he pleaded. “Your eyes will get used to it after a few weeks of training, I can assure you of that.”

“A few weeks?!” You sneered. “When you talk to me using such long amounts of time, I get discouraged already. You think I’m not good enough to master this art faster than that?”

“It’s not about your personal skills, na-baroness, I assure you. Every man needs time to get better,” he swallowed thickly as he watched you play with the knife in your hand. “Please, turn the shield back on.”

Like a spoiled child, encouraged by the fact that your little hand tricks with the knife came easy to you, you took a step ahead and attacked him. In one swift movement he defended himself as he crossed his knife with yours but you could feel he was not using his full force.

You tried one of the tricks you had seen while observing the fights and you tried to quickly take a step back and attack him once again but straight into his ribcage this time. However, you were not experienced enough to try such a move and the knife clumsily slid through your hand. You hissed out of pain as it sliced through the leather fabric of your pants and through the tender flesh of your thigh.

The General’s eyes widened as he turned his shield device off and approached you quickly. You were in so much pain, you were gritting your teeth but you refused to let out a scream or to sit down. You didn’t want him to see you like this although the tears were already pricking your eyes and you could feel the warm liquid dripping down your leg.

“Na-Baroness!” There was a worry in his voice but he used a scolding tone, not being able to hold himself back anymore.

“Don’t even mention it. I know,” you drawled through gritted teeth. “It’s my fault, I know.”

He nodded his head, relieved that you were not blaming your injury on him.

“You’re hurt, my Lady. Let me escort you to the medical wing,” he insisted.

“No, thank you. I will go there myself,” you told him. “I will be back when it’s healed,” you added and limped out of the door as quickly as your pain allowed you, too.

You wanted to be alone so you could finally start crying out of pain, although you made sure to do it quietly. You were thankful that the medical wing was close to the training section of the fortress for strategic reasons.

Your servant girls had picked you up from the medical wing. They had been looking at you as if you were crazy but they hadn’t dared to say a word. Your thigh was now disinfected and bandaged and your servants helped you to change into a nightgown as they recommended you to go to bed earlier than usual and get rest. They left you alone in your chamber and assured that they would be nearby if you needed them.

But you weren’t sleepy. You felt ashamed and humiliated as you kept overthinking your stupid behaviour. You knew one thing only – you didn’t want Feyd-Rautha to find out about this accident. He would think of you as weak and foolish… and he wouldn’t be wrong.

You were laying on the bed and reading a book, making sure that your leg was covered by both your nightgown and the duvet. When Feyd entered the bedroom – earlier than usual – you started to suspect he had found out about your accident and wanted to see with his own eyes. You pretended not to pay any attention to him but you watched him from the corner of your eye as you struggled to focus on the book. He sat by his desk and sighed while reading some letters that had been placed there in the morning and you realised it was his time to perform his na-baron duties as he was supposed to deal with the paperwork. He hated this.

Knowing that he was already angry at the fact that he had to answer the letters, you were trying not to bother him at all and you controlled your own breath so it wouldn’t be too loud. On the other hand, you had to admit that Feyd-Rautha had never aimed his anger at you… so far. You had known about his nature before and although you were not scared of him, you had expected him to get violent at times. That had never happened, though. 

Sometimes you wished it had. Because at least he’d react anyway to your presence instead of treating you like air.

Deep in your thoughts, you lost your focus and dropped your book with a loud thump sound on the floor. You froze and glanced at your husband’s shoulders. He stiffened and you quickly leaned in to grab the book, forgetting completely about your new injury as the duvet and your nightgown pulled up and revealed your bandage.

Once you straightened your back with the book in your hand, you noticed the exposed thigh and quickly covered it, hoping that Feyd had not seen it. You looked up and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him staring at you intensely.

“What is it?” He asked with squinted eyes.

He talked to you so rarely that you nearly startled at the harsh and unpleasant sound of his raspy voice. You wondered if you’d ever get used to it.

“This? A book, dear husband. Something about the politics,” you chuckled nervously as you waved your hand, playing a fool.

Feyd stood up and approached the bed as you watched with terror in your eyes. He aggressively tossed the duvet aside and your skin got covered with goosebumps. He lifted up the hem of your nightgown and you hated to admit how electrifying his fingertips felt on your thigh. He had never touched you like that before.

“Who hurt you?” He asked after seeing the bandage again. His cold eyes stared into yours with a burning gaze.

“What do you care?” You asked and shrugged your arms. “It’s nothing,” you assured. “An accident.”

“I care,” he assured you but without any delicacy. “As your husband I am responsible for taking care of you and your honour,” he pointed out. “And as my wife you are my property. Whoever raises their hand on you, raises their hand on me and the Baronship,” he added.

“I did it to myself,” you bit on your lower lip and he tilted his head, visibly in disbelief. “If you paid more attention to me, you’d find out more things about me and you’d know by now that I tend to be clumsy sometimes,” you hissed at him and tried to cover your thigh again but he kept his hand there.

“I do pay attention to you,” he stated. “I observe you. I know when you’re lying,” he clenched his jaw. “Why are you defending the person who hurt you?”

“I’m not lying,” you protested.

“But you’re hiding something from me,” Feyd was relentless.

“Then we are only fair,” you put the book down as you looked at him angrily. “Your whole life is a secret kept away from me. Can’t I have mine?”

“Women on Giedi Prime do not have the same freedom as women on your planet do,” your husband reminded you. “A wife belongs to her husband in a way he will never belong to her.”

“What a relief then that I am not your wife,” you raised an eyebrow and he pursed his lips as he gave you a questioning look. “Because you have not consummated the union and refused so far to perform your duty and secure our bloodline.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Feyd snorted and looked away. “Stupid woman.”

“I do realise I am a disappointment to you. I am not one of the Imperial Princesses and I am not as interesting as your concubines. Not important enough, not attractive enough,” you decided to finally take your chance and tell him everything you had been feeling lately since it was the first opportunity to have some sort of conversation with your husband. He still refused to lay his eyes on you again. “I feel lonely, abandoned and rejected. Homesick. I want to be a good wife. I want to be a good na-baroness. But you’re not even giving me a chance. Out of boredom, I asked one of the generals to teach me how to fight and I hurt myself during training. Yes, it was pathetic of me. Go on, laugh. Make fun of me,” you encouraged him ironically. “At least it will be the very first reaction from you given to me in a long time.”

“Stop it! Stop,” Feyd-Rautha barked at you as he stood up and turned his back on you. He clutched his hands on the chair by his desk.

“Does the sound of my voice repulse you, too?” You asked, angrily. Now, when you finally let all these things out, you didn’t want to stop.

“You don’t understand!” He exclaimed and turned around to look at you with so much intensity that you curled up on the bed, feeling small and vulnerable. After all, he was a strong warrior and you were only a wounded prey. Like one of the rabbits in the forests on Morana, hunted by the hound dogs.

“Then explain it to me,” you whispered. “You owe me that at least.”

“I hurt everything I touch,” Feyd’s confession was sudden and it shocked you both. After a long while of silence between you two, he continued. “Just like him. It’s what this whole family is like.”

“I thought you liked to hurt,” you pointed out.

“Not you,” he answered nearly inaudibly. It was difficult for him to confess those things. You blinked a few times in disbelief.

“Why not me?” You asked, carefully.

“You’re supposed to be my wife. But I… I don’t know how to be a husband,” he looked at you again. You could swear that his sickly pale cheeks flushed slightly. “I was never… taught,” he explained.

“I didn’t expect you to be,” you admitted. “I knew life with you would be difficult. I knew you enough to know that. But nothing could prepare me for being… ignored. Completely,” you made your own confession as your heart pounded in your chest. You moved closer to him and reached your hands out, taking his gently and he didn’t even flinch. He just allowed it to happen, so you squeezed his cold fingers. “I am sorry I am not the wife you wanted.”

“It is not about that,” Feyd looked into your eyes. “And I do not ignore you. I let you be here. Sleep in my bed.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that was already a sign of affection,” you rolled your eyes.

“Protection,” he fixed you. “I don’t trust anyone here. They all work for my uncle,” he lowered his voice. “And as my wife, you are under my protection. If you want to learn how to fight,” he sighed and let go of your hands to sit on the edge of the bed again and reveal your bandaged thigh, “although I do not approve of that, from now on, it will be me training you. Do you understand? I don’t want any other man to teach you. I would never let this happen,” his fingertips brushed on your bandage and you felt a shiver go down your spine.

“I understand,” you nodded, trying not to smile too widely. Not exactly how you had imagined it but your plan to get your husband’s attention seemed to be working.

Feyd looked at your face again as his hand caressed your hair and cheek. You got startled at that at first but then you relaxed under his touch.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know how to act around… a wife,” he admitted. “All I know is that she should not be treated like a common concubine.”

“So that is why you prefer to be around them. Because at least you know what to do,” you pointed out and he nodded. “You could have told me that.”

He laughed at your words, grinning with that black smile of his. It made you chuckle, too, as you realised how stupid your words were.

“That’s right. The Harkonnens don’t talk about their feelings,” you guessed.

“Our what?” Feyd squinted his eyes at you as his face became serious again. “I don’t know anything about the arrangement between your father and my uncle. But the way you acted on our first night together, it made me realise you are not here by your own will. It brings me pleasure when my concubines fear me but I do not wish for my wife to be scared.”

“I’m not scared of you, Feyd-Rautha,” you assured him. “I have never been.”

He looked a little surprised by your confession.

“You admired me then,” he seemed to be proud of himself.

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” you cooled down his enthusiasm. “You annoyed me,” you explained and he gave you a scolding look. However, he was more disappointed than angry. “You’re a spoiled Harkonnen brat.”

“Look who’s talking. Like you’re not a spoiled little noble lady who decided she wants to learn how to wield a knife out of boredom,” he pointed out.

“I know, I do not deny. Perhaps we are not a bad match at all,” you giggled and his eyes sparkled again. “I’m not used to warriors cheating in the arena, you know.”

“He says it is not the time yet to show my real abilities,” Feyd explained himself quickly, a little embarrassed that you pointed out his cheating. Honour was important to him and it was his weak spot.

“In the bedroom as well?” You raised an eyebrow, surprising your own self with your boldness. “Perhaps you have not been taught about being a husband but you surely know what your main duty is.”

“You’re eager,” he smirked.

“I am not a concubine but I am a woman like they are. I have my own needs and desires. You do not make it easy, ignoring me after coming to bed late at night, smelling like fresh sweat, blood and leather,” you pointed out.

“I fuck like I fight,” he warned you as his pupils darkened. His face was now so close to yours that you felt his hot breath on your mouth and his eyelashes tickled your cheeks.

“Is that a promise?” You whispered.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he snorted at you and you felt your cheeks heating up.

“You’re right. You have to show me,” you teased.

“No,” he moved back suddenly and you felt a sharp pain in your heart. He was so close… you nearly had him. “I don’t trust myself around you,” he admitted. “You will show me,” he told you as you raised your eyebrow.

“Me?” You swallowed thickly as his words.

“I’m yours,” he said. “Do whatever you wish with me. If a child is what you so badly want, to make your parents happy, to make my uncle happy,” he explained with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “then go on, explore, have fun. At your own pace.”

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you realised that he was inviting you to initiate an intimacy between you two. You panicked as you had never expected that he’d want you to take a lead in the bedroom.

“I do not want to have a child to make anyone happy,” you fixed him. “Anyone but me. I want to secure our position on Giedi Prime,” you explained.

“So dutiful,” Feyd smirked.

“We share some values, dear husband,” you nodded and moved closer to him with a soft hiss as your injury reminded you of its presence.

“Easy, wife,” he watched you and you smirked as you put your arms around his neck.

“Are you sure you’re not doing it because you’re avoiding the paperwork?” You asked and pointed at the desk with your chin. Feyd sighed and you giggled. “I knew it,” you bit on your lower lip and sat astride him.

The first thing you did was to take off his shirt. You had observed his body many times before and the sight of his hard muscles had been the most delightful one. You tossed the shirt aside and gasped softly at your husband’s smooth pale skin. You allowed your fingertips to explore every crease, every bump, every vein and every tendon. Carefully, you leaned in and breathed in his scent as your lips softly brushed his shoulder.

His body was a work of art. Daily workouts and trainings were working miracles. He was strong and flexible. The sight alone was enough to make you feel hot. You began to feel the wetness between your legs as you allowed your fingertips to explore the upper part of his body. You tangled your legs behind his waist and moved your hands to his back, feeling the bumpy skin full of thin scars scattered all over. You had noticed them before but only now you gained the courage to ask him about them.

“Was it him?” You asked and Feyd nodded, carefully watching your reaction. But you didn’t flinch or make a disgusted face. You were sad about it. The scars were old. He had to be a young and scared boy once, tortured by his uncle to turn him into the ruthless killing machine he was now.

You leaned in to place a soft kiss upon his cheek.

“Turn around,” you asked and he looked unsure. “You said I could explore and play. I want you to turn around,” you repeated and he nodded, hesitantly, before moving away softly, making sure he wouldn’t hurt your injured thigh. Then he turned his back on you and looked behind his shoulder to see what you were about to do.

You put your hands around his waist and moved closer, still caressing the hard muscles of his abdomen, you leaned in and left a trail of soft kisses up and down his scarred back. From the short conversation you managed to have with your husband you quickly realised that what Feyd-Rautha had never known in his life was tenderness. You wanted to be the first and only person to give it to him. You were his wife and that was your job.

He flinched at the feeling of your soft lips upon his scars but then he relaxed. You lowered the hands resting on his muscular chest and put them on his hips as you shyly hesitated for a while before finally placing one of your palms on his crotch. Innocently peppering his back with delicate kisses, your hand started to massage his bulge through the fabric of his pants. He groaned softly and you froze.

“Don’t stop,” he scolded you.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” you took the hand away and moved back. “You told me I could do it at my own pace. I am not a concubine to order me around,” you reminded him and he turned around to face you again, surprised by your tone. “I am not a shy mouse, Feyd-Rautha. You seem to be aware that women on Morana have more rights. I was raised by a strong Tsarina.”

“Forgive me, I am still learning,” he answered with an amount of sincerity that left you speechless for a moment. As if he really tried to be a good husband.

“It’s quite alright,” you caressed his shoulder. “Lay down for me?” You encouraged and he nodded, quietly.

Feyd moved up on the bed to rest his head on the pillow and you crouched down, waiting for him to be on display for your needy hands. The fact that this terrifying warrior that nearly everyone feared seemed to be so obedient for you just because you were his wife was making you even more and more aroused.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured as you caressed his chest again. “I mean it.”

“So are you,” he confessed as he looked up at you and you shyly lowered your gaze. “I mean it,” he repeated your words.

“I haven’t felt very beautiful lately,” you admitted.

“I didn’t know,” he confessed.

You didn’t want to talk about it now. You lowered yourself to his neck and sucked on the soft skin only to soothe it with a kiss right after. You went down with your kisses, making sure to leave it upon every inch of his torso before you finally found yourself facing his crotch. His pants looked very tight at the moment. Too tight.

Shyly but curiously, you unbuttoned them and pulled them down with his underwear, watching his hard cock twitching at the feeling of your hot breath. His size impressed you but also made you anxious. You helped Feyd to get rid of his clothes completely and tossed them on the floor before leaning in again.

You grabbed his length carefully as he hissed out of pleasure, trying not to think of all the concubines he had before you – concubines who knew how to please him way better than you did. You hesitated before placing a delicate kiss on the tip.

“Be patient with me, I am only learning,” you looked up, giving him puppy eyes. He was looking down at you with darkened pupils and haze in his gaze.

“Have fun down there,” he growled and threw his head back. You giggled and went back to the soft kisses and kitten licks as your hand pumped his length.

“I’m glad you didn’t take me on our wedding night,” you admitted. “This is so much more fun,” you squeezed his tip and he bucked his hip with a grunt as you watched the black precum leaking out.

You had been educated enough by your mother, servants, medics and all the explicit books you could find in the library. You smirked and licked him clean before lowering your head and taking him as far down your throat as you were able to. You kept yourself steady by holding his muscular thighs but when you felt his cock twitching a little, you let go quickly; your drool mixed with his thick black precum leaked down your chin. Feyd looked up with an annoyed expression on his face but he didn’t say anything this time.

“We can have more fun once I’m expecting. Now we can’t waste any of that, can we?” You tilted your head and pulled your nightgown up to your hips before moving up and lining his cock with your glistening pussy. You swallowed thickly at the sight of how hard and big he was.

“Take your time,” Feyd put his hands on your hips. “It’s a lot to take,” he bragged.

“Oh, so you think I can’t handle it?” You raised an eyebrow.

Just like when it came to wielding a blade, you didn’t like being told that you couldn’t handle something. You were an impatient lady.

“I am your wife,” you reminded him as you slowly lowered yourself. The feeling of his swollen tip brushing your clit made you shiver but you bravely kept a poker face on. “I was made to take your cock and carry your children,” you added. “No matter how big it is, I’m going to take it.”

Feyd winked at you and your heart skipped a beat at that. He could be adorable at times, you had to admit. It made you happy that you could finally experience this side of him. It was worth all the pain your injury had been causing you.

You lowered yourself some more, digging your fingers into his shoulders as he tightened the squeeze on your hips, surely bruising them, too. You hissed and shut your eyes as you threw your head back.

The pain mixed with pleasure, the overwhelming fulfilment with an endless desire to feel him even deeper, to fill you even further, to make you swell and heavy with his children. When you finally sat fully on his cock, you let out a moan of his name as your walls twitched and squeezed him.

“Easy, wife, take your time,” he reminded you. His hands were keeping you down, not letting you move for a while. He was giving you time to adjust to his size and you opened your eyes to look at him below you. You gasped at the admiration on his face. All those weeks of feeling unattractive suddenly vanished from your memory.

You were a daughter of your planet. Morana was known for its fertile soil like you would be known for bearing his heirs. You were his goddess at that moment but you didn’t feel the need to be cruel towards your subject.

“I want you closer,” you breathed out and he nodded, sitting up very carefully, making sure not to hurt you. Once his back rested on the pillow behind him, you clinged to his chest and joined your lips with his in a kiss as your hips began to move slowly.

Feyd’s hands moved your hips and helped you to find the right pace and rhythm. Soon enough you were bouncing on that big cock with ease that came with desire. Feeling that you didn’t require so much of his help anymore, one of your husband’s hands moved down and rested on your bandage. His touch was unusually gentle and you moaned into his mouth, not breaking the hungry kiss even for a second.

After all those weeks of being left abandoned and touch starved, you just wanted to devour him. Nothing mattered; certainly not your wound, not the sweat, not the exhaustion. Your only goal was to chase the high that was coming.

Feeling that your movements became chaotic, Feyd cupped your face and groaned into your mouth as his own hips picked up the pace, taking control over you. You trembled and let out muffled cries of pleasure as he rutted roughly inside of you through your orgasm. Not long after you felt his thick black cum spilling deep inside of you as both of your bodies relaxed.

You broke the kiss and tried to catch your breath. Your husband wiped all the tears off of your cheeks and laid your head on his shoulder gently. You hugged his chest and cuddled him like that in silence.

“Do you remember what you promised?” He asked and you furrowed your brows. “That next time you want to train, you’re coming to me.”

“Yes,” you smiled to yourself. “But I am only learning,” you added, shyly. “I don’t want you to laugh at me.”

“If you’re a quick learner with the blade like you are in the bedroom, then you will soon laugh at me,” he assured you and caressed your back as you giggled into the crook of his neck.

“You’re a quick learner, too, Feyd-Rautha,” you looked up as he looked down, confused. “How to be a husband, I mean,” you explained.

You watched the servant girls painting your husband’s beautiful body with the black war paint as you caressed your swollen bump through the fabric of your dress. They finished their job and took a few steps back with their heads kept low. One of them handed you the bowl of the black liquid and you approached him as he smiled.

You dipped your finger in the paint and drew one of the symbols of your people on his chest. He looked down, questioningly.

“And what does this one mean?” He asked.

“It ensures good favours of the gods and victory in battle,” you explained softly.

“You know that he hates it when you do that,” Feyd reminded you. Baron Harkonnen would prefer you to become a Harkonnen and give up your old ways completely instead of teaching Feyd more about your culture.

“I know,” you looked up. “That’s why I do that.”

In the beginning you had been indifferent to his uncle but the more you found out about him and the damage he had done to your husband, the more you hated him.

Feyd nodded at you and leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead.

“Na-Baron, five minutes,” one of the servants reminded him of the time left.

“I will bring you the hearts of my enemies,” he cupped your face as he looked deep into your eyes while making a promise.

“I have only one enemy,” you reminded him, “and he is not in the arena today.”

Feyd nodded quietly. He put his hand on your swollen belly and caressed it.

“Take care of your mother for me for a while,” he said and you chuckled with an eye-roll.

You watched him put the last pieces of clothes and take his blades. You couldn’t wait for the day when he’d become The Baron and he wouldn’t have to do it anymore. Even though the fights were fixed, you still feared for his life. And to think you had used to find this practice unhonourable. Now you were glad that his combats were cheated.

“Slava, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you blessed him.

He turned his head around for the last time to wink at you playfully and give you his black grin.

“I’ll be right back.”

MASTERLIST

[igotanidea]

The love of rain : Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Request submitted as a part of my 1k celebration: Rain and Nikolai (thank you anon!)

Warning: some spice, but nothing explicit, apart from that just fluff

***

The weather in Ravka was whimsical, to say the least.

One day there was sun and clear sky and the other the habitants had to deal with fog or storm or rain. And most of them did not like when it was wet and dark outside, cause it was clear sign that they would be stuck at the little palace for longer than anyone would wish for. It was particularly painful for squallers and tidemakers, the rest were complaining but found their way to deal with it. Of course, it was possible to just use the Grisha power and dissipate the clouds, but nature was nature and there were still rules to stick by, one of them saying that Etherealki were not supposed to mess with it more than necessary.

However, there is always an exception to the rule, or at least they say so.

“Ugh!” Zoya grunted upon noticing the first drops on the ground “I can’t believe it! Why can’t we just make those clouds go away? I can do this.”

“Zoya” Nadia put a hand on her shoulder “you know we are not supposed to do that. King’s orders.”

“Well, someone should knock some sense into Nikolai’s head” the brunette scoffed, raising her hands, ready to call upon the wind “I need training. I want to train and I am not going to stop just because….”

“Surely you are not going to disobey, right?” Adrik came out of nowhere and chimed in “you are a soldier, you have to be obedient.” He reminded her and it made her sigh deeply in frustration.

“I hate it.”

“Yes, we heard you loud and clear, now come on, we have to find shelter before we get drenched.”

And just like that, all the Grisha assembled on the palace ground started running from the droplets, which slowly intensified and after a couple of minutes, the drizzle turned into full-on torrent.

“Aren’t you happy we are inside now?”  Nadia smiled at Zoya, but the latter was even more annoyed than before.

“NO!” she said firmly with a pout on her face

“Someone’s in the mood, today” a male’s voice came from the other entrance to the room and everyone turned to face king Nikolai himself.

“My king” Genya was the first one to raise from her seat and approach him

“I still can’t get used to that title” Nik smiled brightly “but you gotta admit it suits me well, doesn’t it?”

“Well…..” Genya started, but Zoya interrupted her

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t get too much to your head, you majesty.” She smirked

“If it ever does, I give you permission to knock some sense into me.” Nikolai chuckled at the girl’s surprised expression “yes, yes, I heard you use that particular expression. Just be sure to avoid the face, will you? Your punches are quite strong and I can’t risk getting injured in the most visible part of me. Now, is everyone back from the field?”

‘Squallers are at full strength” Adrik assured

“How about tidemakers, Annika?”

“As well, moi tsar.” the girl bowed gently and earned a smile from Nikolai.

“And what about Inferni?” he hesitated a bit

“I think we all know the answer to that question. Y/N is missing, obviously.”

“Guess that’s the aftermath of the time she spend on the ship with you in the role of Sturmhond”

“Good thing I know exactly where to look for her.” Nikolai started walking towards the exit ready to go outside straight into the downpour

“My king!” Genya yelled after him “you should not….”

“Oh, dear Genya, after all this time, you should not use the “you should” with me. Don’t you know I’m gonna do what I want either way. I’m the king after all” he winked at the girl without having any care in the world.

*** “You know, for an Inferni, you are strangely fascinated with water.” Y/N, who was sitting under the canopy near the waterfall, listening to the sound of rain turned around at the voice, a bit alarmed, ready to throw a fireball straight into Nikolai’s face. “Hey! Easy with that!” he raised hands in defense.

“Do not sneak on me!” she spat and then started laughing at the man, her eyes glistening with joy “you are drenched, moi tsar.“

“As if you weren’t.”

“I don’t really care. Besides, I got the heat, I can get myself dry, easily, unlike you.” Y/N smiled at him and reached a hand towards him “come on, we can both fit in here. Can’t risk you getting sick.”

“Oh, you are worried about me” he grinned sitting close to her, sneaking an arm around her waist and puling the girl in “That is just so sweet, my love”

“Mhm, sure. I’m worried about all your people and royal advisors coming after me with pitchforks because I gave the king the flu.”

“Pichfork?” he raised an eyebrow, but could not help a little laugh. “Why pitchfork?”

“I don’t know” she leaned into him. It was kinda funny, how she was the Infeni and yet, he was the one who was giving her warmth. The kind that does not come from the fire, but from the inside and from all the feelings she get because of him “isn’t that what used to be use to deal with witches? And I am a witch after all.”

“Sure you are. You definitely bewitched me.” Nikolai kissed her temple and she closed her eyes enjoying this. Maybe too much. “Besides, as the king, I choose to be here.”

“It’s just so quiet and peaceful, you know” she snuggled closer to him “unlike in the palace or in training. There just always so many people, so many noises. And rain, rain just make it all go away.”

“Like I said, you are one strange Inferni.”

“Maybe.” She sighed “you know people hear “’Inferni” and automatically assume those are the one who beams with energy all the time, have power and strength, and are always ready to jump into action. But hey, guess what, we are people too, we are tired and stressed and worried and need a break from time to time.”

“Hard week?” he asked rubbing on her arm lovingly and reassuringly.

“Like usual. It’s not like I can compare with all your duties. You’ve been busy too.”

“Is that why you’ve been hiding here?” he moved away slightly just to search for an answer in her eyes. “Don’t. turn away from me” his hand found a way to her cheek making her face him “Y/n, darling, tell me.”

 “I… that may have been the reason” she muttered “I just knew you would come to find me.” She looked down for a moment but then raised gaze and focused it on his face “Nik, I’m sorry, I just missed you and ….”

She did not get to finish as he leaned forward and planted his lips on hers in the most gentle, slow and emotional kiss that any girl could imagine and wish for. If she wasn’t sitting, her knees would probably gave up on her and she would fall to the ground. Saints, how she missed this. It’s been a week since they had a single silent moment together and it was all reflected in such simple, yet meaningful gesture. His grip on her waist tightened and he pulled her onto his lap, wanting her closer to him, enjoying how she let him hold her, touch her and kiss her. Just being with her was enough.

“I missed you too, my love. And I’m the one who should be sorry for not giving you enough attention.” Nikolai whispered nuzzling her nose with his making her chuckle since she was ticklish.

 “Don’t be silly, Nik. I am no one, just one rowdy Grisha.”

“You.” he pecked her lips again “are everything. My love. My bride. And the queen to be.”

“Ugh….”

“Still don’t like that?”

“I don’t think I’m the queen material.” She squirmed in his lap and it made him a bit too excited “I hate all that panoply and sumptuousness.”

“Do you even know me?” he groaned when she moved more “I’m the least pompous of my family. Do you remember our time on the Volkvolny? Definitely not a prince-like behavior back then.”

“Oh I remember some of that” she smirked locking hands on his neck and whispering in his ear “I also remember bringing the heat without using Inferni skills.”

“Uh… Um… yeah. You see, being a queen comes with one more benefit. “

“And what is that?” she feigned curiosity, even if the evidence was more than palpable

“You get to be the only person the king will kneel for….” He mumbled, kissing her cheek “Love.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I’ll leave with you with that thought.” With one single motion he moved her away and sat back next to him “maybe you won’t be hiding in the middle of the forest in the future.”

“I will. I definitely won’t stop on your account, love.” Y/N rolled her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder. There would be time to tease him and get revenge later on. Judging by the circumstances it would be painfully easy to make him fulfill that promise. But not now. “Nik?” she whispered, calming down

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can we just stay here for a while? I need some peace…. And I want you with me. Just like this.”

“If you think you can get rid of me now you’re crazy. I’m not going anywhere far from….”

“From what?”

“From the person I love.” He answered and just to accent and emphasize those words raised her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently.

At this moment she really wished she was a tidemaker or a squaller. She would definitely disobey all the rules of not messing with nature and will make it rain till the end of the world if it meant just being with him away from the world.

[foreverinthepagesofhistory]

Romanov Rare Footage Analysis:

This footage was taken while the Romanov family was visiting Romania in 1914. In the foreground we see Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna bouncing up and down in a silly way. One might wonder why she is doing this. To find out we have to analyze this piece of rare footage.

Anastasia seems to be talking to someone in a white dress and a hat on. That person is who i believe to be Princess Marie “Mignon” of Romania (later Queen of Serbia). In the background of this footage we also see Queen Elisabeth of Romania (far right with baby Prince Mircea of Romania being held by someone), Tsar Nicholas II, Tsarina Alexandra Feodorovna, and Grand Duchess Maria Nikolaevna (talking with people), and Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna who we see towards the end of the clip holding what looks like a Brownie Box Camera which the Romanov family used to take pictures.

Now what are Anastasia and Mignon doing? My belief is that Mignon went to greet Anastasia by naturally curtsying (which was the correct protocol) and Anastasia also did the same thing at the same time. I think Anastasia was doing several small curtsies afterward to kind of make a joke out of the moment (hence the giddy bouncing we see in the footage). OTMAA always felt embarrassed or shocked when close members of their family, or anyone at all, treated them with their normal official rules that the protocol demanded (aka curtsying or using official titles). Anastasia probably wanted to break the ice in that moment or make a funny joke of the curtsying at the same time thing. Also we can see the two girls having a good laugh so that could also be why Anastasia is bouncing so much. In the end of the footage we see Tatiana come up to the two girls with her camera ready and it looks like she is going to take a picture of them. The following photo could be the one she took but I’m not sure that it is.

Here are some other photos from the day that this footage was taken:

[justrainandcoffee]

Invaluable (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 1 of 2.

Summary: A series of events that led to Alfie to make the decision that he wanted a Russian necklace for his wife, even when it wasn't part of the initial agreement with Thomas Shelby. Bad ideas usually meant bad decisions. Especially if anger is in the way.

Warnings: Mentions of antisemitism. Mentions of miscarriage. Mentions of killing. And believe it or not, this contains smut. || It was going to be a fluff fic but watch me writing an angst story instead.

Words: 2.7k

Alfie x Rose masterlist

1924.

4pm. Monday.

"Fuck me."

Tommy stopped his car when he saw another one in middle of the road to the Russians' place. It was red and was horizontally parked preventing anyone to pass beyond that point.

"You think is one of their cars?" John asked.

"No. This is another kind of problem."

The three men got out of the vehicle and walked towards the woman, one that the two eldest brothers knew well, and who was also opening the door of her red car.

"Good afternoon, Tommy, Arthur… and you must be the youngest of them" She said looking at the third one.

"I am whoever you want me to be, sweetheart. Who are you?"

"John, don't." warned Arthur not looking at her. "Don't. She…"

"Great, John," she interrupted "Call me Mrs. Solomons."

"Oh, fuck. I'm sorry, Mrs. Solomons. Shit, I didn't know… I'm sorry."

Arthur could have teased his younger brother because his cheeks were red, but he didn't dare to talk and John avoided any visual contact. The only one who seemed to be unimpressed by her presence was the leader. Although he had questions.

"What are you doing here, Mrs. Solomons?" finally Tommy said. "This is enemy land."

"And yet, you dragged my husband here, Thomas. But first, I want to give you my condolences personally not just by the letter Alfie sent. I can't know what are you feeling, and I don't want to know either, but it must be very hard to lose your partner. So, I'm really sorry, especially because the circumstances. How's your boy?"

"Thanks, Mrs. Solomons. Charlie is just a baby, he'll be fine."

Rose nodded. Obviously he didn't want to talk about that, and she wasn't his friend either so she answered his question "I'm here because you put a bomb inside that fucking house."

"Not yet."

"You did. Alfie is the bomb. One of the first rules to know about him is: Never put Alfie near a Russian, Mr. Shelby. Never. I'm not going to give you a historical speech about antisemitism and how the tsar loyalists were after my people. We jews, we've been killed, tortured by these fucking Russians. But Alfie, more than me, takes this in a personal way because his mother was a victim of these fuckers. Do you think he accepted your deal because of money? Because of friendship? No. He did it to fuck with them. Because you gave him the opportunity Alfie never had: Avenge his mom. He shits on the money you can offer him. But not on this chance… you didn't know, did you?"

Tommy shook his head.

"You know now. If Alfie sees the opportunity, he'll smash the head of Romanov with his own hands and prepare a sandwich with his brain. Now, you are going to prevent that."

"He won't do that."

"No? Go ahead to the fucking meeting then and then tell me what happened," Rose said "you don't know him as you think you do, Tommy. But I do. I know what his mother meant to him and I know if he has the slightest opportunity, he'll take it because that's something Alfie does very well. He's an opportunistic bastard and I'm married to him."

"Tommy," Arthur dared to say looking at his pocket watch "we're going to be late…"

"Shup up, Arthur. I know" he said without looking at his brother. His blue eyes were on the woman in front of him "Tell me your conditions, then."

"I have no conditions. I'm not involved in Alfie's business, but if something happens to him then you're going to be responsible for it. Alfie is a fucking bomb and you put him there." Tommy saw how she took off one of her rings and offered it to him "give this to Alfie. He doesn't know I'm here, but he'll know if he sees it. Alfie could never do something stupid if he knows I'm here."

Tommy examined the ring. It was a silver delicated rose but quite simple. "He gave it to me when we were 15," Rose said with a nostalgic smile "it was the first nice thing he bought to me. It's a trinket but it holds an invaluable meaning. You don't want Alfie ruining your business, I don't want him being killed because he lost control, that's the only condition I have. You're smart enough to make him understand without being explicit. I'll move my car and you can go."

John and Arthur returned to their car and Rose went to hers. Soon, the road was free again.

"Tommy," she said one last time, rolling down the window "if something happens to Alfie, I'll kill you."

.

5 pm to 6 pm, Monday.

"I don't think they trust me, Tommy," Alfie said as soon as he and Tatiana Petrovna crossed the door. The newcomer saw his colleague with his hands tied up but the Russian aristocrat seemed to be ready to free him.

"Mr. Solomons is the only jeweller I trust in London," Tommy said looking at Leon Petrovich Romanov who indeed cut the ropes.

"Yes, trust. Yes. Might've to add that on the ol' invoice." Alfie said and Tommy perceived his humour changing. In his pocket was the ring that Rose had given him.

"As we agreed, your jeweller will now select items to a total value of 70,000," Tatiana spoke. "When you have selected your chosen items they'll be put into a box and stored. When you fulfilled your part of the deal, the box will be delivered to you."

Alfie and his monologue didn't surprise Tommy but when Romanov tried to outsmart him and Alfie revealed that he spoke Russian thanks to his mother Tommy had to intervene.

"Mr. Solomons," he said putting a hand on his broad shoulder when his grumpy expression seemed to be scaring the Russian. "I found this ring in the way, I think it's yours. It's the one you told me it's invaluable, isn't it."

Alfie's expression changed when Tommy gave the ring to him.

"Where? Tommy, where did you find this?"

"Outside. Coming here. Is it yours, right? Your rose."

Both men stared at each other and Alfie sighed, before putting the ring in his pocket.

"My rose, yes. My Rosie" Alfie finally said and then clapped his hands looking at the Russians again. "…but today it's for forgiveness, innit?"

The selection didn't take long, but was enough for Alfie to choose the best ones, including a gift from the tsar Nicholas himself and a Fabergé. And to make Petrovich Romanov shit on his pants once again after Alfie discovered a fake necklace among the real ones.

Despite Tatiana's attempt to put Alfie away from her family as quickly as possible, Tommy found a moment to speak to him when both men went out where Alfie's chauffeur was waiting for him.

"Where's she?"

"Less than an hour ago from here," Tommy replied pointing to the East. "Take care of her, Alfie. She loves you."

"Yeah. I know, Tommy. I know. The hell she's doing here, I told 'er to stay at home."

"You know her better than me, Alfie. If you're in trouble she's there to take care of you."

"Yeah. That's her. Go inside, they're waiting for you. Enjoy the orgy, Tommy."

"Do you want to stay?"

"Are you inviting me to fuck, Thomas?" Alfie said and chuckled "Nah, mate. I've my sweetheart waiting for me. And I fucked Romanov enough today. Be careful with the Russians."

"I will."

.

Tommy was right. Her red car was parked under some trees when Ishmael reached the spot where she was waiting for Alfie. The sun was already hiding and everything around them was illuminated under a the last gold rays of sunshine.

"Just go to London leave the car in the distillery. Me and my wife we're going later in hers."

"All right, Mr. Solomons."

As soon as Alfie opened the door, she ran towards him and he caught her in the air. He held her against his body and between his arms, at the same time that Ishmael left them alone.

"Are you fine?" she asked, stroking his beard. "I was so worried."

Alfie kissed her. "Shit, Rosie… I'm fine, luv. I'm fine. I fuckin' told ya to stay at home, luv. Didn't I? These fuckers…"

"I couldn't. No when I knew you were going to lost your mind. I was afraid of what you were going to do."

"And you were ready to put yourself in danger for me."

"Alfie, you're becoming reckless when it's about Tommy. I'm fucking scared all the time when he calls you because I don't know where's this going. I shouldn't be scared of losing you. Not you, too…"

Rose bit her lower lip and looked down. After losing their baby two years ago, the idea of suddenly being alone forever became a constant fear in her life. And Alfie being an associate of Thomas Shelby who was always playing with his life, didn't help her at all. Rose preferred the times when Sabini was the biggest menace in Alfie's life and not a bunch of Russian aristocrats who hated jews and could kill him in a minute.

"You're not going to lose me, Rosie. Listen to me, I'm not going to leave you. This is are just business, just business, sweetheart."

"Come on, you know I'm not going to believe that bullshit. I'm not a brainless wife who believes her husband lies, Alfie, and you should know better than this. These are fucking dangerous people and Tommy invited you to play a Russian roulette with them and you accepted. The question is, Alfie, who's going to receive the bullet?"

"Not me."

"I hope not. Because I'm going to end up in hell but first I'm going to kill everyone involved in this shit. And do you know who's the first in my list?"

He nodded "won't be necessary, Rosie, I swear. I promise. Let's go home, yeah? Let's rest."

Alfie took her hand and kissed it. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Al."

"You're calling me Al again. Am I forgiven?"

She couldn't help but laugh. "I don't know. Do something for me and maybe I can consider it."

"I know what to do," he said walking to her car, still holding hands with her. "It's dark already. We're alone… The Russians organised an orgy, ya know?"

"They invited you?"

"No. But we can have our own orgy in your car."

"It doesn't exist such thing as an orgy between a married couple, Al."

"It is when the matrimony is us. We value the double, sweetheart."

"Poet Solomons," she said, opening the door at the same time Alfie was taking off his coat.

Monday-10 pm.

The car's windows were foggy, witnesses of the passion inside it.

The moon owned the sky for the last hours and there was nothing nor no one interrupting them.

After the first encounter hours ago, they fall asleep in the backseat but everything started again when Alfie woke up and saw his wife sleeping on him.

Her mouth slightly open and her calmed breath, caressed his chest. Alfie couldn't help but stroke her bare back and slid his fingers through it until he reached her butt. How many times in his life she slept like that on him, and yet, never he got tired of her? Hundreds. Maybe thousands.

He moved his head a little and kissed her hair.

"Do you want to go home?" she asked him still with her eyes closed.

"I'm fine here."

"Okay," Rose settled herself closer to him and put one of her arms around his body. "Do you remember when I used to enter your house through the window at midnight?" she asked and although it was dark and couldn't see her, he could feel her smiling.

"I always suspected my mother knew."

"It's not like we were the most subtle people on Earth either, Al. We thought we were. Even my little brother knew I escaped almost every night to see you."

Alfie smiled, too "And you're still escaping from home to see me. Some things never change."

"Except that I'm adult now and none can stop me."

"I love you. I really do, Rosie."

Alfie sat on the seat and carried her with him. His wife ended on top of him facing him.

"Did they hurt you somehow?" she asked touching her face with her fingertips. Alfie shook his head.

"They didn't."

She kissed him. Rose wasn't sure that if even Alfie knew he was ready to kill anyone who dared to hurt him. That life, another one, in other universe… it didn't matter. She'd kill for him and it wasn't just a saying.

A moan of satisfaction escaped from her lips when she felt him entering into her.

"Alfie…" she said against his mouth.

That was her love. The only person in her whole existence that she allowed to touch her. Just him. Where Alfie made the life of the rest of humanity complicated, everything was easier for her if he was with her.

Alfie pushed his hips against her to deepening his thrusts. He still felt angry with the Russian man and his fucking family. All the same shit.

He put his hands on her hips, he didn't want to hurt her, but his frustation and anger were making him more aggressive, but she knew it and also increased her rhythm and friction. Rose wasn't happy either after all.

Alfie closed his eyes and threw his head back and felt her clutching around him.

"Fuckin' hell, Rosie. Just don't stop… don't."

"I'm not planning to."

They kissed and Alfie embraced her tightly against him. Both bodies moving like one nonstop. He could feel that after few minutes she was slowing her movements and put her on the backseat. He settled on top of him and took the control the last moments together.

"Al… hell, faster."

And he did it. It didn't take her long after that to cum and felt her whole body relax once she did it. Alfie did the same few seconds after her.

"We need to use your car more often," he said looking at her with a smile.

"I can't agree more," she kissed him again, but both of them, definitely more relaxed. "I love you, Al."

"I love you more, sweetheart."

They returned to London about an hour later when she felt her strength return to her legs. Both of them slept the rest of the night until late morning.

Tuesday. 11:30 am.

"That was not part of the deal, Alfie."

Tommy was in his office when his friend called.

"It is now, Thomas."

"You can go to any jewelry in fucking London and buy her the necklace she wants, two of them. The whole fucking jewelry in fact."

"That's not the point. I want one of those."

"Jesus. Fuck, Alfie. Do you know what are you asking me, right? If they know…"

"They won't. That princess Tatiana Petro-bitch or fuck whatever her name is, she's nuts as hell. She didn't even know that fuckin' treasure, right, they've there."

"The answer is no, Alfie, I can't. You'll have your money, give me that fucking list of people who could want the Fabergé and it's over. Buy her the most precious necklace you can find there."

"The initial agreement is still on, Tommy. It's just a fucking necklace."

"I know you're mad. I understand the Russians made your mother suffer, I know. But... No.

"Your answer is no? Then I'll find other methods. She deserves it."

"Alfie…"

"Goodbye, Tommy."

Tommy rubbed his face when Alfie ended the call. His life was already a mess and had the sense that it was only the beginning.

In his house, Alfie looked through the window. Rose never asked him anything but after watching the tsar loyalists covered in diamonds had the feeling that his wife deserved it more than them.

And blind and furious as he was with the Russians, he didn't know it yet, but the new alliance he was going to make it was going to end very bad.

Alfie grabbed his cane and went to see the priest.

---

PART 2 FINAL

[matchesarelit]

Imagine If You Will...Garrett Unfiltered (Spencer Agnew x gn!reader)

Warnings: secrets, embarrassment, dirty memes, suggestive,

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: 1711  

Working at Smosh was pretty cool, you were however perpetually surrounded by and involved in strange doings. Such as the current situation that had you encircled by what could only be referred to as a swarm of Chosens. You stood centre stage in an incredibly oversized referee uniform; the bottom of the shirt reaching mid-calf and the shorts engulfing your shoes.

a/n *edit*: changes detailed at bottom of work.

Smosh Masterlist

You fixed your eyes on the instructions in your hands, nevermind that the words had almost immediately turned to garbled squiggly lines. You refused to let your eyes flitter to the man in front of you, who was impassionately explaining the rules and how to play the game. His speech was the reason you couldn't bear to look up at him, knowing the glow that he gives off when discussing things he enjoys and knowing that in moments like these you often find yourself watching him in an all but day-dream state. 

Forcing a long and exaggerated blink you attempted to readjust your focus, mainly because you wanted to pay attention to his gushing as you always did, but also because you did actually need to know how the game was played.

“Ten cards…prompt…blanks…card Tsar pic-” in your haze you managed to register the call from Kiana that interrupted his description, but you failed to catch what she said. Yet as he started again; ‘I-uh should go, dont worry youll get it when you start playing!’ you watched him move to leave, muttering a quick goodbye and thanks to his wishes of good luck, you thought about the video to come. If anyone knew the chaos that was the Chosen videos it would surely be him; after his appearance in many and his editing of many more.

Welp you were substantially boned and those scraps of instructions would have to do for the filming. Shifting focus; you attempted to get into character, although being the referee wasn’t a complicated position, it did require you to keep a straight face throughout the antics of the chosens. 

As you took your spot beside Shayne and the video began, it all came so naturally and the filming passed in the blink of an eye. Until, of course, the time came to pose for thumbnails; at which point you were caught off guard by Garrett’s voice calling out from beyond the set. 

“Y/n don't look now, but all your dreams have come true you are surrounded by Spencers!” 

As your cheeks grew hot, the cast and crew released many sputterings and guffaws at his declaration. Thank fuck that Spencer’s desk was on the other side of the building.

The only thing that nagged at the back of your mind as you all tidied and prepped for the next filming, was that Spencer would most definitely be the one editing this video and he would most definitely witness that embarrassing and incriminating moment. 

Sadly that was all there was to do, that and wait for the fallout. So you pushed on.

As lunch rolled around with only a few more shoots to do, everyone was pretty knackered with only low idle chatter echoing throughout the shared space. You only had one video left to film; a ‘Who Meme’d it’ that consisted of yourself, Spencer and Amanda as well as Shayne (of course), and then you were free to go. Sitting with Chanse and Angela you’d maintained a conversation around the latest shows you’d seen, attempting to keep your mind off the impending doom you knew was coming.

Dramatic? 

Yes. 

Wrong? 

No.

There wasn’t too much to do after lunch to set up, mainly getting yourself done up for the camera in a new outfit. Excited for the shoot you were the first one mic’d up and ready, already sitting in your chair as the others stepped onto set. This was your first time on this particular game, but you’d seen most of the other episodes and always thought it looked like good fun, not to mention you were able to submit some memes of your own. The game went by peacefully, you’d managed to gain a few points amongst your colleagues, however at the halfway point you’d found yourself in last place. As the man to your right leaned back in his seat, you took him in, making sure to keep your eyes fixed forward you utilised your peripherals to the best of your ability. His eyes lit up, he was swaying as he laughed and his hair created a fluffy halo around his head. He was always handsome, but like this, enjoying himself so thoroughly and comfortably he was beautiful.

Picking up a few points in the next round, after finally regaining your focus, giggling to yourself about the joke at Shayne’s (exasperated) expense what came on screen next almost made you choke. 

Shayne immediately lost it, leaning against the wall for support as his chest heaved, Kiana and Greg were offscreen releasing statements of “there is no way this can stay in” and “what in the world” respectively. Although, their exasperation was clearly forced; as smirks blossomed on their faces.

With a scoff you started writing your answer, trying your hardest to avoid the eyes on yourself and the man at your side. That was harder as Spencer’s eyes were also fixed on you even as his hand scribbled across the whiteboard. At the end of the round you’d all gained a point with Garrett creating that meme, you muttered curses just loud enough for him to hear as he stood in the wings sending him the meanest glare you could manage all the while failing to wipe the smile off your face. Despite the situation his teasing put you in Garrett was undeniably funny and this occasion was no different, so your grumpy expression faded soon enough for the next meme. 

Suddenly, however, your stool was inwtolerable and you were unable to remain still. Continuously fidgeting with the marker and board you were given, you failed to take note of the eyes tracing your hands and hips, sitting amidst a slight frown upon the face of the man beside you. You’re attention was set, for a time, on Shayne as you tried your darndest to win. You did not win, you came second to Spencer and as you looked to congratulate him, you found his eyes already set on yours. Until Shanye began to outro the video and you were forced to turn towards the camera; a wild grin pulling at your mouth as you gestured to the outfit of merch you had chosen to rep.

Following the conclusion of filming you gathered some things and moved to leave, before a call of your name stopped you in your tracks. Turning to face the voice, your eyes fall on Spencer who had returned to his desk and donned his oodie, twisting back and forth in his chair, his mouth pulled into a small smile as he gestured you over with his head. You complied wheeling over an empty chair to nestle yourself by his side, relishing in the soft warmth he gave out. The video on hin monitor was an old style mlg compilation of your favourite game, a game you had mentioned only once in an old video.

He laughed along with you as the video played and when it finished the two of you were stuck in a quiet awkward space.

Both of you searched for something to talk about, ignorant to the mutual nature of your desperation to further the interaction, the heartache over the seemingly unattainable.

As the seconds stretched to minutes Spencer snapped through the quiet as he hit a few keys on his laptop. Glancing at the screen you recognised the still image of the chosen video from that earlier, before you got the chance to speak he had panned through the footage to the last minute. He looked into your eyes as he hit play, as the playback continued he held your gaze, faces inches apart, shoulder still burrowed in his side. His facial expression remaining blank until those familiar words hit your ears, at which point he simply raised an eyebrow and began to smirk, allowing the video to end before he spoke up.

“So, does this mean I’m in your dreams?” His tone was jovial but the question seemed genuine and suddenly ,there were too many and too little thoughts running through your mind, how were you meant to respond? There was no way to get out of this…

Unless…

“Nah, honestly its a little embarrassing but theres just something about the chosen, that makes me all giggly.” You forced your tone to match his as your hand found his chest and you pushed to move away from him.

Welp that was the stupidest choice, honestly a rejection would have been better, the look on his face was near unreadable, at least for you. To anyone else, especially the small gaggle of cowrokers listening from the kitchen, the falling of his face was painful to watch. 

But maybe…

Just maybe this is salvageable… because losing Spencer in any capacity filled you with such dread as you could never surmount.

“And I mean it doesnt hurt that he shares a name with the cutest and most funniest guy I know.” looking at the man infront of you, you took notice of the plum colour of his cheeks not to mention his newfound inability to meet your eyes. Taking a moment to soften your eyes and move your hand to his arm “Seriously Sep, they were messing with me, I’ve kinda had a thing for you for a while and Tommy, and everyone else, kinda sussed it out a while ago. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I can keep my distance if this is too much.” leaning away from spencer you stood from your chair, your momentum soon cut off as a tug of your arm had you toppling backwards.

Arms creeping around your waist, he held you in place atop his lap. His head tucked into your neck as he spoke softly. “Please never even think of it, there is no such thing as too much when it comes to you.”

A/n *edit*: "crimson painted your cheeks" -> "your cheeks grew hot" I always attempt to keep my descriptions of the reader vague so that anyone can slide into that place, I apologise for the mistake. Thank you for making me aware of this.

[goddammitjosef]

i understand that most russians in this fandom (if not all) are obsessed with tsar alexander in some way which i mean wanting to see the man who would have ruled over you 200 years ago being dommed by a foreign invader that your country as a whole has a weird homoerotic relationship with thats fine i get it i look up to castro myself and find him x che funny...but i want to remind you that this was my king...

how the fuck would i enjoy this

[im-goofball]

rubs hands together. do the gorosei have families in your lore? if so I'd like to see their parents [or hear about them], what did they look like in their youth? Do they have devil fruits or are they yokai? PLEASE 🙏

OMG IT'S CHRISTMAS!!

The Gorosei during the Void century, art by my co-lore creator @genri-o

Warcury-Born in the Year of Sun 595 AF

(48 y.o. in 643 AF when it all begun)

-Born as a middle-class noble, but family died in a tragic shipwreck when he was just a baby

-Was took into the Saint Vlad's Orphanage when he was just one year old by an unknown person

-After leaving the Orphanage at 16, he started studying law in the prestige Royal Law Academy that he has been saving for his whole life

-At twenty he graduated with honours and became a judge, aspiring himself to climb the hierarchy to get the highest position in Slaviugia Kingdom

-He became the Supreme Judge of Slaviugia at 35, recorded in the Year of Sun 630 AF, the second youngest person to get this job in history

-Was elected as the Chief of Royal Court in the Year of Sun 633 AF and became one of Tsar's advisor's year after

Ethan-Born in the Year of Sun 596 AF

(47 y.o. in 643 AF when it all begun)

-Born as an orphan in the land of Wano

-At 5, he was found starving in the streets by shogun Kozuki Saisho and his men, who then took him in as his son.

-For the next twelve years he was trained by the greatest blade master in that time, Lunarian named Andaiell Daerlion, with his younger brother Sutara (who he greatly envied due to the fact that he was Saisho's biological son, and therefore was shown more love then Ethan recieved)

-At age 18, he became one of the Moon Guards, elite group of twenty samurai directly operating under Shogun and protecting his and his family's life.

-Ethan had medicore education, despite being adopted into the royal family he never recieved any royal title nor any proper education as he should have (Wano still had strict rules when it came in their 4 Classes: 1. Royal family, 2. The Church of Moon, 3. Nobles, 4. Commoners) and so he is terrible at math and had to hone his reading skills by reading many books and poems. He was naturaly skilled in caligraphy though

-He adopted the name Ethanbaron after the creation of the WG, and he still mostly responds if people call him Nusjuro since he lived with that name most of his life

Saturn-Born in the Year of Sun 598 AF

(45 y.o. in 643 AF when it all begun)

-Born as the only child of royal Jay Garcia bloodline, son of king Methone and queen Anthea of the Greecion Kingdom

-Lost his mother at the early age of four as she died of miscarriage and then his father at the age of twelve after he died of an unknown illness

-Became the king month after, recorded in the Royal Cronicles: Year of Sun 610 AF

-He was spoiled a lot when he was a child, especially by his father who taught him a lot about politics. Most nobles and members of Grecion Royal Court tried to manipulate him and treated him like a snobby child, which of course he was, but he was much more dangerous and smarter then they thought and quickly got rid of oposition whilst he grew in power

-When he grew older, the passion he and his mother had for science grew larger and at the age of fourteen he atended the Academy of Sciences and graduated at the age of seventeen with honourifics

-In the Year of Sun 620 he was wedded to princess Tethys Saerlios, who was still eighteen at the time

-He was opposed to this at first, he had never met her after all, and had no idea what she was like

-The first time they met was in a lab Saturn thought belonged to one of the Royal physicians, but was surprised to find a young woman fixing a star-ship's motor. Not realizing it was Tethys , since she was dressed in an engineer's clothes stained with oil and lab glasses he came closer

-The first thing Tethys said to him and she was still with her back turned to him was: "Could you hand me that screwdriver over there?"

-Saturn was dead set on marrying that woman

-At the dinner table Saturn realized that the princess he was supposed to marry and that messy engineer from the lab before were the same person

-They married after a year, recorded in tue Royal Cronicles: Year of Sun 621 AF

-After 6 years, they had their first child and heir to the Greecion Kingdom, Jay Garcia Dione and 3 years later they had daughter, princess Jay Garcia Rhea

-Saturn and Tethys became one of the most influencial people of their time with their inventionsa and scientifical/engineering knowledge aslo the fourth wealthiest in the All Blue

Mars-Born in the Year of Sun 589

(54 y.o. in 643 AF when it all begun)

-Born as the third son of the royal Mars bloodline of Aurelion Kingdom, son of King Deimos III. and queen Aurelia

-His older brothers, Feobos and Sandos died in hunting "accident" in 598 AF and his mother, Aurelia commited suicide three months after

-Mars became king at the age of eighteen after his father, who grew mad with grief died in Trail of Sun by Mars' hand as he was unfit to rule and almost brough Aurelion to ruin, recorded in Sun's Cronicles of Aurelion; the Year of Sun 607 AF

-At the age of 35 he went to war with the ruler of Themisto Isles, the King of Storms, Shepherd Ju Krono, after the man invaded one of Mars' allied kingdoms for the goal of conquest

-The war was known as The Falcon War and took three years till Mars defeated Krono on battlefield, killing him with his own sword the Stormfeather. The end of the war was recorded to be established in 627 AF

-Since Krono died, Mars was debating on the peace treaty with Krono's only son and the Crown Prince, Shepherd Ju Peter who became the new king of Themisto islands at the young age of 13

-He took the boy as his son two years after, since it was discovered Mars was unable to have children so his bloodline would die there. (And he seemed rather fond of the sassy child)

Peter-Born on the Year of Sun 614 AF

(29 y.o. in 643 AF when it all begun)

-Born as a child out of wedlock of king Shepherd Ju Krono and unknown woman, theorised to have been a commoner

-Since Krono had no other child and never married due to his how shall I say... flirty personality, he had no other choice but to legitimize Peter and name him his heir and Crown Prince

-Whilst growing up, Peter was mostly looked down upon due to his "stained blood-status" and never had any great relationship with his father, but he still loved him nonetheless

-He became king after his father Krono died at the age of 47 by the hand of an enemy, king Marcus Mars

-He became fondof the man after meeting him, as he was the only person who took him seriously despite his young age an little of experience as a ruler

-They became rather close for the next two years and Peter was not really surprised when Mars offered an allience and then proposed the Rite of Two (a ritual with sake cups, bur much mire complicated then the one origanting from Wano)

-Despite The Falcon War and the tragic death of his biological father, Peter never felt any hate or negative emotion towards Mars, as he understood that it was Krono who was the agressor

-Peter even offered to adopt Mars' name, but the king refused.

They are not eaxctly devil fruit users, because they never eaten the fruits containing their yokai powers, rather they were given to it by Mu (details for later asks).

I will show you Jay Garcia family, also @genri-o 's artworks, later on in the ask (if you ask for them of course)

[deadpresidents]

can you recommend any bios on putin?

Sure. I haven't read a ton of books about Putin/Russia, but there are four books in particular that I have and felt were really good.

•Putin by Philip Short (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) This 2022 title is the most recent book I can personally recommend and the only one published since Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine began. Short also wrote two other great books on autocrats that I'd suggest checking out -- Pol Pot: Anatomy of a Nightmare, and Mao: The Man Who Made China.

•The New Tsar: The Rise and Reign of Vladimir Putin by Steven Lee Myers (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) Myers, who has been reporting from around the world for decades for the New York Times, published this book in 2015 and it reveals a closer and more-detailed look at Putin the person than outsiders have ever had before.

•The Man Without a Face: The Unlikely Rise of Vladimir Putin by Masha Gessen (BOOK | KINDLE | AUDIO) Born in Russia and now an American citizen, Gessen, who is now known as M. Gessen is a prominent critic of Putin's rule. They examine how a relatively low-level, seemingly unimpressive KGB operative somehow rose to become Boris Yeltsin's hand-picked successor and one of the most powerful people of the 21st century.

•Kremlin Rising: Vladimir Putin's Russia and the End of Revolution by Peter Baker and Susan Glasser (BOOK | KINDLE) I make a point of getting every book written by Peter Baker and Susan Glasser, whether it's something the married couple has written together or the many books they've written on their own. Published in 2007, after Baker and Glasser finished serving as chiefs of the Washington Post's Moscow bureau in the early years of Putin's first stretch in the Russian Presidency, this book focuses on how Putin impacted a Russia that was rapidly undergoing drastic changes in the 15 years since the Soviet Union collapsed and the backsliding from the delicate form of democracy that Boris Yeltsin had attempted to implement after the end of the Cold War.

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep1 Musings - Cezare Romulo: History through Visual Context in Ploiești, Romania (Pt2)

I am on the hunt for any and all information on AMC's OCs, The Vampire Daciana, and the Vampire Cezare Romulo.

In Part 1, I pointed out that Daciana was likely AMC's nod paying homage to the Dacians (aka Geto-Dacians or Daci, as the Greco-Romans knew them), the ancient Romanians of c. 10th century BC - 7th century AD, in the Transylvanian/Wallachian regions of the Carpathian Mountains.

In AR's TVC, vampires tend to reflect the era they lived/died in, preferring to wear their traditional clothes & surround themselves with antiques from their time period--like grave goods for the dead. However, from what I've found, there was nothing about Daciana's clothes/home indicating that she was an ancient Dacian (X).

(Granted, if she IS that old, then that definitely increases her odds of being an "Old God" that got caught in the Great Burning.... 👀)

Regardless, I wanna turn my attention to Cezare Romulo, cuz while I'm tentatively ruling out Daciana as being Dacian, I haven't dug into The Vampire Cezare yet. So here goes nothing!

Nomenclature

First thing that stood out to me is his name. Cezare's obvs Caesar, but I wonder if that's his name, or his title (like how the Latin caesar became kaiser in German & tsar in Russian).

In Oltenia (Wallachia) there are archaeological remains of a Roman-Dacian fort called Romula, dated to the 2nd century AD. I couldn't find much about it, so we'll just put a pin in that. Something way cooler is that according to Google Translate, Romulo means Romulus, in both Romanian & Italian. That's hella interesting, cuz Romulus was the founder of Rome (8th century BC), twin brother of Remus, whom he killed Cain vs Abel style to be the ruler. In some versions, Romulus "died" under VERY mysterious circumstances:

So for AMC's OC vampire to be named after two Romans (Caesar & Romulus) who were both incredibly violent & bloodthirsty rulers says a lot. Especially considering with how Daciana described him:

The Castle: Bears & Wolves (Totems & Crests)

Cezare killed a whole circus troupe traveling through Transylvania (Sibiu), and only spared their bear. I wondered why this was so noteworthy--vampires will kill anyone for food (or sport), esp. if they don't follow the creed about only killing Evil Doers (as Cezare obvs. didn't--unless he knew something about that troupe we don't...! 👀 Clowns ARE evil, after all 💀). Vamps don't tend to kill animals, unless they need to defend themselves--but aren't circus bears kept in cages or something? So why would it matter?

So I reckon that Daciana's point was actually that Cezare LIKED the bear, and probably KEPT it, as his pet.

Cuz look at his castle: the joint's filled with taxidermy.

I think some of these animals are bears and/or wolves (Romulus & Remus were raised by wolves in the woods....). And that tracks with what is known about the main Dacian animal, the wolf (or "Draco"/dragon), (X X X).

Sava, Cipriana. "Cultural heritage tourism--Dacian fortresses in the Orăştie area, Romania." MEFkon 2020 INNOVATION AS AN INITIATOR OF THE DEVELOPMENT. (2020): 290-311.

Strechie, Mădălina. "The Dacians, the Wolf Warriors." In International Conference Knowledge-Based Organization, vol. 23, no. 2, pp. 367-373. 2017.

(ISTG when is AMC bringing AR's Wolf Gift books into the Immortals Universe--I need my werewolves already, gosh darnit!)

Cezare clearly felt a strong affinity for animals, especially bears.

Which isn't surprising, considering the life-death-rebirth symbolism of the bear in Romanian traditions like the Ursului (bear dances).

Trandafoiu, Ruxandra. "A Tale of Two (or# EverMore) Festivals: Electronic Music in a Transylvanian Town." Eastern European Popular Music in a Transnational Context: Beyond the Borders (2019): 213-237.

The Castle: Architecture

As for Cezare's castle ruins, I have no idea what's going on.

The most interesting thing was Cezare's final resting place in this catacomb-like structure, lying in a stone sarcophagus.

Like, there are Roman-era burials found across Romania, but Cezare having a STONE sarcophagus is interesting, cuz apparently Transylvania's Daco-Roman inhumations are more often brick:

As stone sarcophagi only became more popular around the 3rd-4th century AD

Cocis, Horatiu. "Some remarks on the Roman necropolises of Potaissa." Journal of Ancient History and Archaeology 2, no. 2 (2015).

Before largely falling out of favor/use by the 5th-6th century AD, except for clergy & royalty:

Maggio, Ariane. "Burial Practices in Europe." Encyclopedia of Global Archaeology (2018): 1-6.

So, does this possibly give us a date for him, approx 2nd-6th century AD? But how long was it until he died? (HOW did he even die?)

What about the rest of his castle? Like, the place is an utter ruin, and there's barely anything left of that dark AF exterior that I can use.

Is this a studio set, or was it filmed on location somewhere? IDFK. There's hundreds of Romanian archaeological sites--let alone Daco-Roman ones--it kinda reminds me of davas (fortresses/strongholds), (X X), if not for the masonry being different.

So yeah, I have no frikkin clue, y'all; this is all I've got, LOL. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Results? Inconclusive! Again! 😂😭

I don't know if AMC was deliberately implying that Cezare Romulo (or Daciana) had anything to do with the ancient Daco-Romans...but it's interesting to think about!

[euphoniumpets]

Little prince | Nikolai Lantsov x Starkov! Reader

Summary: after revealing that you were pregnant with Nikolai's child, you never thought of having birth to his children.

Requested? Yes: so maybe the starkov!reader is pregnant with child number you decide. And the birth, just like Hyacinth and Baelons birth, gets really difficult. And the healers don‘t know what else to do, but to cut the child out of her. And they want Nikolai to decide. So lots of angst, but with a happy ending and maybe her powers helping her and screaming at the healers, because I am quite sure this is something she would do.

A/N: i am actually hooked of combining the HOTD and shadow and bone lmao. This is an AU for the calm before the storm.

also y/s/n = your son name

Warnings: childbirth, blood and gore.

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Ever since you had told him that you were pregnant, Nikolai felt happy. Then he felt scared and doubted everything what he was doing and started to wonder if he would be a great father to his children.

He didn't want them to grow up like he did at the palace or that the children would be treated badly. He just wanted to be a perfect father like any children would wish.

It was your second time to give birth since Baelon was the first one to heir the throne after Nikolai and he couldn't grow worried for you. The first one was already bad enough and he had the fear if the childbirth was going to be wrong this time.

''I can hear you overthinking,'' You spoke and rolled your eyes when you saw him looking lost into the window of Ravka. Nikolai had finished his meeting with Alina and Zoya about how they were going to remaps everything now the Fold was gone and how to reunite the rest of the worlds.

You knew that he had been stressed out lately, especially now when Baelon have to be taught his duties and now that you were pregnant with his second child. ''Everything is going to be fine,'' You assured him and approached him by the window. ''I really doubt that,'' You heard him mutter and turned to look at you before his eyes trailed over to your belly.

Nikolai let out a heavy sigh before placing one of his hand onto your stomach and felt the baby kick. ''At least someone is excited to see father,'' You amused and felt the baby kick several times as Nikolai haven't moved his hand away yet. Nikolai chuckled.

''What did the healers say this time?'' Nikolai asked and looked at you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder for comfort. ''That the baby is heathy and strong,'' You replied and looked at Nikolai, who still looked uncertian.

''He will be fine,'' You replied as he let out an heavy sigh.

Although, it wasn't fine at all. Your birth took you by surprise during a meeting and you didn't had time to process at all before all the maidens and the healers carried you to the chambers to prepare for his arrival.

Zoya had to get Nikolai away under a meeting and stormed inside of the room when he saw you on the bed, filled with pain, sweat, and tears as he heard you scream. It broke him when he heard those painful screams.

''Breathe, moya tsaritsa,'' You heard one of the maidens tell you in front of you. You gasped and took a breath in before letting out a scream through your lips. ''Where's Nik?'' All you could say before you felt Nikolai grab your hand for comfort. ''I'm here,'' You heard him say softly as the maidens tried to wipe the sweat off you and make you comfortable as possible.

However, Nikolai noticed the distress on the healer in front of him and he grew worried. ''What's wrong?'' He demanded with a firm voice as the healer looked. ''Moi Tsar...'' The healer stuttered and you looked at them with concern before you felt the pain coursing through your body.

It felt like that every inch of your bones were about to snap in pieces.

''Something is wrong with the baby...'' The healer began to say and you wanted to rip the man heads off at that moment. ''What do you mean?'' Nikolai asked, the concern growing larger by the minute in his body and the gut grew.

''We need to cut her open, the baby isn't going to survive if she keeps pushing,''

''The last time we spoke you told our baby was healthy,'' You snapped at him while panting hard before letting a groan. ''Y-yes, I know, Moya Tsaritsa but all childbirth gets difficult...''

''What are your suggestions?'' Nikolai cut him off. ''We need to cut her off if you want the baby to survive,''

''Is there anymore options?''

''I'm afraid not, Moi Tsar,'' The healers responded. ''The choice is all yours,'' Nikolai thought for a moment before he looked at you, who was still in pain and with tears storming down on your cheeks. He didn't want to hurt you but it was all he could do to cut the baby out of you. He didn't want to loose you and the baby, but what choice did he have?

''Do it,'' Nikolai responded with a firm voice and looked at the healer.

''Nik,'' You warned him before letting out a painful gasp. ''It's for the best, you're hurting the baby and the baby is hurting you,'' He replied and you looked at him before shaking your head frantially.

You saw the healer grabbing a sharp small knife and you tried to protest your way out before Nikolai held you tightly on the bed with the help of the others. ''No, please!'' You screamed before you felt the sharp pain through your stomach.

-

Nikolai stared at the baby who slept soundlessly in his arms. He had your eyes and he for sure knew that he would have the blonde hair from his father when he would grow older. He heard footsteps coming through the room and saw his other son approaching carefully with curious eyes.

''Wanna meet your brother?'' He asked with a smile and saw y/s/n walking towards him. Nikolai grabbed a chair so that he could be on his level. ''What's his name?'' y/s/n asked.

''Baelon,'' Nikolai answered.

''Hello, Baelon, I'm y/s/n and are your older brother,'' He spoke and looked at the small baby in his arms. A knock sounded in the room and he turned around where he saw Genya in the doorframe.

''She's awake,'' Genya spoke before approaching him. ''I'm going to see your mother, stay with Genya for a while, alright?'' He asked y/s/n who nodded.

Nikolai walked back to the chambers where he saw one of the maidens holding a washcloth and patted on your forehead slightly. They saw Nikolai before walking out of the room, you turned around and saw the small figure in his hands.

''Wanna meet him?'' Nikolai asked and approached you by the bed. You nodded as Nikolai handed Baelon to you. ''How are you feeling?'' He asked and looked at you with concern.

''I'm fine, i'm just weak, but I think my powers helped me heal a little during the time,'' You replied in a weak voice. ''I'm sorry,'' He apologized.

''I know it wasn't my decision to choose-''

''But you were right,'' You replied and looked at him. ''We could've lost him, you and y/s/n could've lost me too,'' You told him and looked at him with assurance.

Nikolai placed a small kiss on your forehead as the two of you heard the door creak open. You and Nikolai turned around where a small head popped out and you saw y/s/n hiding with his face behind the door.

''Wanna say hi to your brother?'' You spoke with a small smile. You saw his face lit up before walking toward the bed as Nikolai helped him to get up on the bed. You chuckled toward y/s/n at his enthusiasm as the three of you cuddled with each other while welcoming Baelon into the world.

[lostacelonnie]

as per Some demand: on polish romantic literature, the depiction of russians, and world serpent of honkai impact 3rd fame. apologies if this is very unorganized but its all just things i was thinking about while distracted in class and not TERRIBLY serious analysis

so before i begin. im very sorry if i get Some details wrong because the main piece i’m using for comparison, dziady (część III) by adam mickiewicz, is something ive read a While ago and in all honesty did not feel like rereading just for this as its just general thoughts. i przy okazji przepraszam że postuję o mickiewiczu ale jest on najlepszym kontekstem do sytuacji mam nadzieję że mi wybaczycie.

anyway. to give non-polish people a bit of context: dziady (część III) was written by mickiewicz during his time in russia, after being exiled from his home country (poland, lithuania, or belarus, depending on who you ask). most of the work is centered around what is means to “fight for independence” (as this was a time when poland was under russian occupation, and didnt technically. Exist. mickiewicz’s nationality is a topic of discussion even today, but thats a whole another topic so i wont get into it), why the nation has to suffer, if this was god’s plan, a fighter vs a poet vs a "traitor" during a country's fall etc etc but that’s not what i’m going to focus on here.

the main thing i want to touch on, as you might’ve guessed by the first paragraph, is the depiction of the russian General Populace- specifically, petersburg’s. there’s a couple of relatively well-known scenes from this work but the one most relevant here is ustęp. i could not find an english translation available online for free and, seeing as even its relevant fragments are Quite Long, did not feel like translating them myself (sorry). but there’s two main ones to look at: petersburg and do przyjaciół moskali.

petersburg shows the vision of russians as very… individualistic. walking among the street are different social classes: the tsar and tsaritsa, a military general showing off his battle-earned awards despite the cold, low ranked soldiers, women in expensive fur coats and colorful hats, wealthy people getting into their carriages; and the poor, freezing and hungry, but still talking about how honored they are to see their “superiors”. they arent bad at heart, but theyre passive, uncaring of how both other nations and even other russians suffer under the tsar’s tyrannical rule, as long as they, themselves, aren’t inconvenienced.

do przyjaciół moskali (to [my] friends muscovites) is less of a narrative part as it is the musings of mickiewicz himself, remembering the cold and unfeeling faces of russians that exiled him, killed and imprisoned his friends and other people, all for the purpose of not having to deal with any problems themselves- no matter if they ruined someone else’s life. however, as he talks with hate about the powers over them, it’s not the people himself he curses out- rather, he wishes that they were free, and brave enough to do something instead of becoming co-perpetrators.

so, tldr: in this work (and many, many others; this sentiment is present throughout a lot of polish literature from romanticism onwards) the russian people are depicted as not inherently evil by themselves, but rather unwilling to fight back against the oppressor that is their own government, oftentimes even reveling in it (the so-called “heroism of captivity”); that, or being just entirely ignorant of their homeland's crimes.

another theme that is integral to this work is messianism of the polish nation- supposedly, the reason why Everything Just Keeps Going Wrong For Us is because god has a plan in which the polish have to suffer, so that nobody else has to, directly paralleling jesus. 

BUT. to get into the part in which i actually start talking about honkai. what i’ve been thinking about is that the way world serpent agents are depicted in the game is actually quite similar?

taking raven herself as an example- first of all, she is Actually Literally Russian but that doesn’t matter here. so before mei joins world serpent, raven is this Mysterious Evil person, working for a Mysterious Evil organisation. she’s cold and ruthless and doesn’t hesitate to carry out her mission if it means getting a paycheck. and then lament of the fallen happens, and mei is in world serpent, and natasha is this. still not a Warm person, yeah? but she’s passionate about being a bartender, and takes care of the roost. simple woman just trying to survive. she’s not a perfect example, of course- she did leave world serpent at a point, only coming back when she realized her other paychecks just simply aren’t enough to sustain both her and the kids- but she’s still a mercenary. she kills people for money. not a bad person, just forced into a terrible situation due to something out of her control- but nowhere near a morally pure one, either. (which i’m very happy about, because that would be boring).

but, if you want to dig deeper, there’s the gray serpents themselves, as well- cold in both the metaphorical AND the literal sense, being machines and all. this one speaks for itself, i think? emotionless and unwilling to compromise, only caring to serve their purpose while continuing the flame chasers', namely mobius’s, legacy. but even the serpents themselves are individuals- they have their own personalities, and interests, even while being mass produced drones. but, like the russians in dziady, theyre mostly focused on themselves- pretty well seen with the serpent present in the beginning of salt snow holy city arc (disconnected from the thing keeping him alive, just because the majority would be better off on their own, with no regard of what would happen to the less fortunate ones).

but, to touch on the previously mentioned messianism- in honkai, that could be attributed to anyone not belonging to ws, especially in arc city and during project stigma- bearing the burden of being, in a smaller or larger degree, sacrificed for some twisted definition of the “greater good”.

additionally, one of the characters who cooperate with world serpent while not being its part is cocolia, who is russian; the person who (albeit accidentally) gets kevin out of the sea of quanta is seele, raised in russia; and misteln, an important part of carrying out project stigma, was not only “created” in siberia, but also approached by the serpents, and recruited, exactly there.

i don’t think i have a good conclusion for this one? as i said, just general thoughts on a topic i found interesting. i’m sure there’s more that could be said here but that’s what comes to mind ^-^

[fortheloveofarchons]

Caelus finds Aventurine alone

Check out my new fic called "Caelus Our Silly, Little, Chaotic Goober!" Full chapter is at the link down below!! Kudos and comments are much appreciated!

Post referenced to @tsarinadari on X, Instagram and @tsar on Ao3!

Tsarinadari's work

C.W.

- Aventurine/Caelus ship - Aventurine/Ratio ship - Fluff and humour - Fluff and Angst - Hurt Aventurine - Soft Dr Ratio - Soft Caelus - Neck kissing - Mentioned Firefly and Robin

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“Is that… Mr. Aventurine?” 

What was supposed to be a normal day for Caelus to find some trashcan– I mean, wander around The Reverie, finds himself hiding behind the elevator, peeking at the young man with sandy blonde hair. He crouches low behind the sleek, metallic frame of the elevator, his eyes dart nervously across the expansive lobby. 

It appears that Aventurine is by himself, lounging on the elegant round sofa in the centre of the hotel lobby. Aventurine reclines casually, his posture relaxed as he soaks in the opulent surroundings, seemingly oblivious to the commotion unfolding around them. 

A few passersby cast some odd gazes and furtive glances in Caelus’s direction. Their expressions range from confusion to suspicion, their whispers mingling with the soft hum of conversation that fills the air.

“What is he doing over there?” 

“He’s so weird…” 

“Mom… he looks scary.” 

Caelus couldn’t help but let out an awkward chuckle in response, rubbing the back of his head from their attention. After all, how would you feel from seeing a random guy just hiding behind the elevator and acting suspicious in the middle of the day? 

Just as Caelus was about to stand up, someone whispered something… different. 

“Ugh… I can’t believe the IPC allows a Sigonia to work under their authority. What were they thinking?” 

Caelus stops at his tracks, hearing the nosy lady’s voice. 

Wait… what?

“Hey, pipe down!” The other lady whispers loudly. “We’re in a hotel lobby, maintain your dignity!” 

“Ugh, I know…” Caelus didn’t turn his head to look at the two ladies, but he still remained in his tracks, hearing their words. “It’s just– You know fully well how I feel about those Sigonians, a bunch of manipulative skeezers who can enchant those around them and get what they want. As much as I pity them sometimes, no wonder the Katicans attacked them, Sigonians’ traits can inspire jealousy in others.”  

He could hear chuckles rasping from behind. 

Caelus clenches his fists onto his black jacket. As much as the working relationship between Caelus and Aventurine was not from coercion, but a temptation with the promise of gain after the devastating events of what happened to Firefly and Robin’s demise, the hotel guests’ hurtful words would certainly make an ordinary individual feel angry at them. 

Wait… so those glances… Caelus thought, staring at Aventurine from behind. And those words were all about him this whole time? What do I… do?

A pang of empathy stirs within him, the discomfort of witnessing such behaviour urging him to take action. 

► (Walk up to Aventurine and talk to him)

► (Hit those people with a baseball bat! Rules are made to be broken, after all!) 

► (Ignore Aventurine and move on, trashcan and treasure awaits!) 

“No, I can’t just hit these people with my baseball bat.” Caelus mumbles to himself. “I don’t want to make the others worried about my wrongdoings once again… But, ignoring him doesn’t seem right either.” 

Despite the unease gnawing at his conscience, Caelus knows he can't stand idly by. With a determined resolve, he rises from his position and strides purposefully towards the lone figure, his footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor. 

As he approaches, he notices the subtle tension in Aventurine’s posture. Despite his pink rimmed glasses, it doesn’t cover the slight downturn of his eyes. A familiar sight– the weight of isolation and rejection bearing down on his shoulders already burdened by external issues.  

With his casual smile, Caelus sits down next to Aventurine in greeting, his voice warm and genuine as he offers a simple invitation to join him. 

“Hey, mind if I join you for a bit?” He asks, his words carrying a quiet sincerity that resonates in the silence of the room. 

Caelus could’ve sworn that Aventurine’s two toned neon pink and blue eyes widened in surprise, but Aventurine immediately covers it by pushing his pink-tinted glasses upward. 

“Ah, Mr. Stellaron.” Aventurine casts him a smirk, his arm gesturing to the seat beside him. “A pleasant surprise, though it is not unexpected to meet you again.” 

“Ahaha… It sure is.” Caelus casts a side eye to one of the passersby, who immediately avoids his gaze and resumes walking from their post. Although it is normal that the IPC would create neutral relationships with everyone across the galaxy, seeing a Sigonian man conversing with the Trailblazer who once saved the Xianzhou Luofu and Jarilo-VI automatically made the passersby resumes their duties, as if those insults weren’t thrown in the first place. 

“Humans certainly are interesting when it comes to status and wealth,” Aventurine initiates a conversation, bringing his glass of whiskey to his lower lip. “Don’t they, friend?” 

“Sorry?” Caelus blinks in confusion. 

“Think about it, wealth begets Erudition, produces Elation, averts Destruction, and builds Harmony.” Aventurine sips on his fine glass of whiskey before he sets it back onto the table, and drops of water from the whiskey glass stays in his gloves. “Yet, there’s always going to be people that cause chaos in this order. I guess it doesn’t really matter how much you try to conceal yourself with lavish clothes and silver tongues.” 

“...Wait, if this is what you are implying then--" The gears shift into Caelus's head. "Is that why you use these sunglasses? Especially when they are pink-rimmed? Wait-- Is that why you are wearing fancy, lavish clothes too?" 

“You're smart, mostly for pointing the 'pink-rimmed' part out!” Aventurine replies back, holding the temple of his glasses. “I like wearing clothes like these, as I never had the chance to, but for the glasses, it's for my eyes, not for showing off." 

Aventurine then takes off his glasses, and Caelus could see them clearly. The colours of his eyes immediately reminds him of the enigmatic meme back in the Memory Zone, one that is believed to be a manifestation of people’s fear of death and murder. With its piercing purple and pink shades, along with its squirmy body that looks like a centipede, it sends a shiver down Caelus’s spine. 

Especially after what happened with Firefly.....

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

A Tide That Turned Everything: Chapter I - Separated, Hurting, Broken

Summary: Aleksander is alive but he paid a price for surviving. Because of his actions Grisha are hunted and executed. They find a place where they can be safe. There you meet with Alina, Mal and Prince Nikolai. They plan to bring the country back together and destroy the Fold. In the meantime Aleksander gathers his own army. The question is, on which side will you be?

A/N: Here is another fic about General Kirigan and Reader! It's the third part in series about Reader being a Tidemaker. It concentrates of the events in season two of the show. I hope you will like it! As usual, I don't own anything from "Shadow and Bone". But I've almost finished reading the books! The only one that remains is the "Rule of Wolves". But this story still only focuses on the TV show. Also, English still isn't my first language, so if you see some mistakes, let me know. Enjoy!

Chapter Summary: Kirigan is searching for you and nothing will stop him from finding you. Nikolai tries to save his country. Alina tries to gather Morozova's amplifiers. And you? You try to mend your broken heart. Which may be difficult with everyone not trusting you and news you hear from David.

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader, Ivan/Fedyor Kaminsky, Alina Starkov/Mal Oretsev

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, David Kostyk, Genya Safin, Fruzsi, Fedyor Kaminsky, Alina Starkov, Nadia Zhabin, Mal Oretsev, Nikolai Lantsov, Zoya Nazyalensky, Tamar Kir-Bataar, Adrik Zhabin

Word Count: 4428

merzost – magic, abomination, unnatural creation, something from nothing moi tsarevich – my prince, son of tsar milaya – sweet girl There is a slight plot from third episode of the second season and also a bit more from the fourth episode. Inspired by prompts: https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089683705/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089584620/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089683695/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089684424/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089559821/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089683637/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089559895/

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

Aleksander and his followers have set up a base in a house of an aristocrat family. Yes, he has survived. But paid a price for it. He created creatures of shadows with merzost, but because of that his health is falling. He's coughing, often with black substance, has headaches and has scars on his face that can't be healed. His condition deeply worries him. But something troubles him even more.

One day another group of recruits arrives. Aleksander immediately goes to greet them and looks at their faces. He's happy to see David and tells him that. Then, he returns to looking around. However, he doesn't see what he wants.

'Was [Y/N] with you?' he asks David, who's retreating with Genya. They stop. The Durast shakes his head with sorrow.

'I haven't seen her since the day we left the Little Palace after…' he doesn't finish. But Aleksander knows what he wanted to say. He nods. He walks to Fruzsi, another Tidemaker.

'Ask everyone who has arrived whether they have seen [Y/N] [L/N] during the last weeks,' he orders her. Fruzsi is surprised by this, but nods. She comes to his room an hour later.

'And?' he asks, expectant, hoping.

'No one has seen her,' Fruzsi answers. Aleksander's shoulders slump. He sighs, and runs a hand through his face.

'Tell the search parties to look specifically for her,' he orders. 'I want her found. As soon as possible.'

'I know she's close to you,' Fruzsi says, frowning. 'But shouldn't we focus on-'

'She's not close to me,' Aleksander interrupts her. 'She's everything to me.'

Fruzsi is surprised, guessing what he means. He turns away from her.

'With all due respect, sir…' she says slowly, '… why her?'

Aleksander turns to her. There's something in his eyes Fruzsi has never seen.

'Why anyone else when she exists?' he asks. The Tidemaker lingers only for a moment longer. But her place is quickly taken by someone else…

'Fedyor!' Aleksander says, happy and relieved. The Heartrender smiles and bows his head to his general. Kirigan walks to him and the two shake hands. The Darkling notices the tiredness and sadness in his friend's eyes.

'Ivan…' he says, his smile falling.

'Is alive,' Fedyor says. 'That's why it took me so long to get here. He's wounded and scarred. Healers are putting him back together at the moment.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' Aleksander says. 'He… he did well in the Fold.'

Fedyor nods. He bites his lip, hesitating.

'Any news of [Y/N]?' he asks. Sorrow fills Kirigan's eyes. He shakes his head.

'Not yet,' he answers and sighs heavily. He walks to his armchair and falls on it. He runs a hand through his face.

'I need her, Fedyor,' he says. 'Every time I turn my face, I expect to find her there. And I find nothing. It physically hurts. I've never known I'd meet a girl like her.'

'[Y/N] is one of a kind,' Fedyor agrees. Aleksander shakes his head.

'It's more than that,' he says and smiles softly. 'When I told her about my past, what I did, what I fear… she looked my demons in the eye and… smiled. She fell for the very thing I thought she'd fear.'

'I haven't met a kinder heart,' Fedyor says with a smile.

'Kind,' Aleksander says. 'Compassionate. Understanding. Gentle. That's who she is. That's why I fell for her. And I failed her. When she needed me the most, when they were throwing Grisha out of the Little Palace, I wasn't there. I even insisted she stayed there. She should have gone with you, like she wanted. But now she may be dead. And it's my fault.'

'She's not dead,' Fedyor says strongly. Kirigan looks at him with doubt.

'How can you be so sure?' he asks.

'Everyone knows she's important to you,' Fedyor answers. 'I think that if they had managed to kill her, they would have made every Grisha aware of it.'

He has a point, Aleksander must admit it. Hope reignites with him once more. Fedyor smiles.

'Fear not, General,' he says. 'She might look like a fragile flower, but her stem is made of steel.'

Aleksander can't help but smile. He nods. Fedyor's eyes suddenly light up.

'What about the gift you gave her for her last birthday?' he asks. Aleksander instinctively touches a ring on his finger. He sighs deeply.

'The problem is, I gave it to her so she would call on me if she needed help,' he says. 'Until she says my name while touching the necklace, I can't use my matching ring to track her. Believe me I… tried.'

'Well, we have David now,' Fedyor says. 'Maybe he could think of something.'

'He'd need something that belongs to her,' Aleksander explains, remembering how the Durast made the ring and necklace.

'And we don't have anything,' Fedyor sighs. Kirigan shakes his head.

'We will get her back, General,' the Heartrender assures him.

'I know,' Aleksander says and a look in his eyes darkens. 'I promised her. That the world can't keep us apart. And that there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep her by my side. I fully intent to keep that promise, Fedyor. No matter what.'

*

In the meantime, Alina and Mal have teamed up with a privateer, who's just turned out to be Prince Nikolai Lantsov. Together, they hunted the Sea Whip for Alina. She now has two amplifiers. She tried to destroy the Fold, but failed. After that, they head for the Spinning Wheel, a place where apparently Grisha have found a safe heaven – the Spinning Wheel. There, Alina reunites with Nadia… and Zoya. But the conversation with Zoya goes well, to Alina's surprise. They are now allies. After they walk their ways, Nadia joins Alina's side, uncertain.

'Someone else is in here you might be interested in,' she says.

'Who?' Alina asks, frowning. Nadia simply grabs her arm and drags her somewhere. A few corridors later the Sun Summoner sees a familiar back.

'[Y/N]!' she exclaims happily and runs forward, freeing herself of Nadia's hold. You turn around, surprised. You huff, when Alina falls into your arms. You hug her back slowly.

'Saints, I'm so glad you're okay!' she says, pulling away. You force a smile.

'Thank you,' you say. 'I'm happy you're alive as well. After I heard what had happened in the Fold…'

'I made it,' Alina says, smiling, and looks over your shoulder. 'Thanks to Mal.'

You turn your head and see a young man, looking both familiar and unfamiliar. He notices you and his frown tells you he has the same situation with you.

'Mal, look who's here!' Alina calls him, waving at him with enthusiasm. The man joins you, looking at you with interest.

'I hope you remember our dear friend from Keremzin, [Y/N] [L/N],' Alina says, looking between you two. Mal's eyes spark with recognition. He smiles broadly.

'How could I not?' he says and chuckles. 'You almost cracked my skull open once!'

'You definitely deserved it!' you laugh and go in for a hug. You hold each other tightly, then pull away. In a moment Mal's brows cease with worry.

'No offense, but you look awful,' he says. You smile wryly. You're well aware of the dark circles under your eyes, puffy eyes, pale face and so on.

'Well, I sleep with my one eye open,' you say. 'I'm not exactly welcome here.'

'Why?' Alina asks, frowning. You give her a look.

'I was one of Kirigan's most loyal Grisha,' you explain. 'No one here trusts me.'

'But you didn't know what he's planning,' Alina says vehemently. The corners of your lips lift slightly.

'How can you be so sure?' you ask.

'Yes, how can we?' a voice asks. You turn your head and see a young man in a uniform. You bow your head.

'Moi tsarevich,' you greet Nikolai. He stops by Alina and Mal's side.

'So?' he asks, eyeing you. 'How can we be sure we can trust you?'

'Nikolai!' Alina scolds him. You look tsarevich in the eyes.

'I didn't know Kirigan had planned to expand the Fold,' you declare. 'In fact, we haven't been close for a long time.'

'Why?' Nikolai asks, frowning. You smile wryly at him.

'I've been asking myself this question for months,' you answer. Nikolai eyes you again.

'I trust [Y/N],' Alina says strongly. Nikolai looks at her and they exchange a look. Finally, he nods and smiles at you.

'Alina's friends are mine friends,' he says and takes your hand in his, then kisses it. 'Pleasure to meet you, Miss [L/N]. And I'm sorry for the suspicion.'

'Charmed,' you say, smiling slightly. 'And it's perfectly alright. I understand.'

'Come, we have a lot to catch up,' Alina says, taking your arm and you start walking. Soon enough she tells you what happened to her. She tells you how Baghra warned her about Aleksander. How she escaped. How she met with Mal. How they found the Stag. But then Kirigan found them. He killed the Stag and joined Alina with its bones. He tried to harness her powers for himself. He used them to expand the Fold. But there Mal and three rouges from Ketterdam saved her. She and Mal escaped to Novyi Zem. There they met Nikolai.

'And that's about it,' Alina finishes her story a moment later.

'You've certainly been busy,' you comment. Your friend sighs. There's sadness in her eyes.

'I still can't believe I let him fooled me,' she says. 'I… I honestly thought we share some sort of connection, you know?'

'Yeah,' you answer quietly, now sad as well. But Alina quickly becomes angry.

'I still can't believe how cruel he really was,' she says with venom. 'All those people he murdered… because he wanted more power. How could someone be so cold-hearted?'

'Behind every cold-hearted person there is a kind heart which has been treated with coldness for a while,' you say quietly. Alina looks at you with surprise. But you don't say anything more.

'What about you?' your friend asks. 'How did you escape from the Little Palace?'

'I didn't,' you answer after a moment. Alina frowns at you. She looks you up and down, no doubt wondering how you can be here if you hadn't escaped from the Little Palace. You avoid her eyes.

'When the First Army raided the Little Palace, I focused on getting everyone else out,' you start. 'Especially the children. So, when I was about to evacuate myself… it was too late. I was caught.'

'[Y/N]…' Alina says, horrified. You force a smile and shake your head.

'It wasn't really for a long time,' you say. 'I escaped.'

'How?' Alina asks. You're silent for a moment. You try not to think about the time you were a captive. About what they did to you…

Darkling's whore… Filthy witch… Stupid serving girl…

'They were careless,' you answer. 'Thought they broke me. I used it against them. Then I found out about this place. Others weren't exactly thrilled to see me but they took me in. I guess my sorry state made them pity me.'

'[Y/N]… what had they done to you so they thought they broke you?' Alina asks with worry.

'Hurt me,' you answer after a moment and force a smile at her. 'You should rest. You've had a tiring journey.'

'But-' Alina starts, frowning.

'I'll see you later,' you say, hug her briefly, then walk away. Your heart is hammering in your chest. You don't look back. You don't think about what you told Alina. You don't think about it so much, you bump into someone.

'Sorry!' you apologise. The person turns out to be Zoya. She looks you over.

'How are you looking worse and worse every day?' she asks. You smile wryly.

'It's my hidden talent,' you answer and attempt to walk past her. But she grabs your arm. You look up at her. There's seriousness in her eyes.

'You're not alone,' she says, confusing you. 'Kirigan had us all fooled. I know it's hard for you, you were his personal servant and then his trusted Grisha. I know you must have certain attachment to him but… you have to let it go. He murdered innocents. And would do it again.'

'You… "Attachment"?' you repeat with disbelief. 'Zoya, I… He was the first person who saw I'm more than just a plain serving girl. Every time I struggled, he was there to help me. He saved me every time I was in danger. Do you remember Tsybeia? Even before it turned out I'm a Grisha he was always kind to me and protected me. And now… everyone tells me what he did, who he is. But I can't just forget about all the good stuff he did.'

Zoya looks at you. Suddenly, her eyes go wide. You stiffen. You know she realised your secret.

'And you love him,' she guesses and crosses her arms. 'Tell me, if he handed you a bloodied hand, would you take it, only because it was his?'

You stare at her. Tears well up in your eyes. You smile sadly, a bit brokenly.

'I honestly have no idea, Zoya,' you whisper and turn. You walk away, trying to blink away the tears. And you definitely don't think how much you miss Aleksander. Nor how much you wish he was alive.

*

The night falls. It is a relief to you, because you finally are away from the judging eyes, hurtful whispers. But the sleep never comes easily. Your thoughts are always a mess. Today as well.

You lay down in bed and try very hard to fall asleep. Your thoughts drift to everything that happened that day. You sigh and hesitantly grab the necklace on your neck. Pain clenches your heart.

Aleksander…

Suddenly you find yourself in Kirigan's chambers in the Little Palace. Everything is just like you remember. You look down at yourself and see the clothes you were wearing as Aleksander's personal servant.

'I did miss the sight of that band on your arm,' you hear. Your heart stops. Oh, how you longed to hear that voice. You turn around and see Aleksander leaning on his table. He looks just like he did when you last saw him.

'Yet I still preferred to see you in your kefta,' he says, slowly walking towards you. 'It suited you. It was meant to be yours.'

'Sometimes I wish I've never discovered my powers,' you admit. 'Then I would just admire you from afar. I wouldn't feel this pain now.'

'Do you really?" Aleksander asks. You think for a moment. You smile sadly and shake your head.

'Not really, no,' you answer. 'Because it was worth it. Being with you was the happiest time of my life. Even though you insisted on hiding it from everyone.'

Aleksander stops in front of you. He hands his head.

'Will you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?' he asks. You're quiet for a moment.

'I don't know,' you answer honestly. Aleksander nods, understanding. He looks up and reaches toward your face, but hesitates. His hand hangs in the air.

'I hate seeing you sad,' he says.

'Then come back to me,' you say, tears filling your eyes. 'I just want to see you. Hold you. Hug you. Touch you. Kiss you. Cuddle with you. Love you. Then I'll stop being sad.'

Aleksander looks at you with pain. He hates to see you like this.

'I want this too, milaya,' he says. 'So much.'

'I waited for you,' you say. 'Like I promised I would. Part of me still does. Even though it's impossible for you to return to me.'

'[Y/N]…' Aleksander whispers. He slowly reaches out to you again. When you don't flinch away, he cups your cheek. The moment he does, your clothes change into your kefta from the winter fete. He smiles softly.

'I didn't even tell you that you looked magnificent that night,' he says quietly. 'Beautiful. And your performance… You were extraordinary.'

You smile. You waited so long to hear those words. You lean into his touch.

'It's hard without you,' you say.

'I know the feeling,' Aleksander says quietly. You touch his hand that is on your cheek. You turn your head and kiss it.

'Everyone is sad to be gone from the Little Palace,' you say. 'They say their lost their home. But I lost mine before the First Army attacked us.'

'Because I was your home,' Aleksander says quietly. You nod. Kirigan presses his forehead to yours. He closes his eyes.

'I wish I was kissing you instead of missing you,' he whispers, his voice shaking from pain. You close your eyes, fighting with tears. You fail, obviously. You can feel them falling down your cheeks.

'Did you think of me?' you dare to ask. 'When you were in the Fold?'

'Yes,' Aleksander answers, clenching his jaw. 'I wanted you to be by my side. And then I wanted to come back to you.'

'Why didn't you tell me?' you ask. 'About your plans about Alina and the Fold? The real ones.'

'Because you have a compassionate heart,' Aleksander answers after a moment. 'You'd disagree with my plan. Maybe leave me.'

'You don't know that,' you say, shaking your head.

'Wouldn't you?' Aleksander challenges you. You're silent.

'I don't know what would I do,' you say and look him in the eyes. 'You robbed me of that choice.'

Kirigan looks down. Maybe he's actually ashamed a bit.

'But I know I wouldn't leave you,' you add. Aleksander's head shoots up. You cup his face.

'I promised you to be with you for better and for worse,' you say. 'No matter what would happen, I would be with you.'

'And then maybe you would die in the Fold,' Aleksander says flatly. 'This one time I wouldn't have been able to save you.'

'Maybe I would have saved myself,' you suggest with a small smile. Kirigan sighs and shakes his head.

'Sometimes I really can't with you,' he says. You grin at him. But then your smile falls.

'Kiss me?' you plead. You don't have to ask twice. Aleksander cups your face and kisses you.

'We shall be together again, my darling, I promise,' he whispers.

'I want this more than anything,' you whisper back. 'So much.'

'Be patient, [Y/N],' Aleksander pleads. 'For me. Please.'

'I'm waiting,' you whisper. 'I'll be always waiting for you.'

Kirigan opens his eyes. He's met with the wall of his room in the residence. He sighs heavily and sits up. His finger caresses the ring on his finger. Then, he lifts it to his lips.

'Please, [Y/N],' he whispers. 'Call for me. Call for me and I'll come for you. I swear. I will always come for you.'

*

You, Tamar (a Heartrender) and Nadia watch Alina training her new abilities. She thrusts light at her target… but even though it's impressive, it doesn't even reach it.

'Absolute rubbish,' she grunts. Nadia scoffs and gives Tamar a look.

'It's the second amplifier,' the Heartrender explains. She walks to pick up a mannequin. You three follow her.

'With the Stag, summoning came like breath,' Alina says. 'This is like… reining chaos. Crossing the Fold was a disaster.'

'Hey, we'll get you there,' Nadia comforts her. 'If it helps, I could hit you with a switch and call you "stupid girl".'

'It may come to that,' Alina sighs. 'How is it I'm overwhelmed by the second amplifier and at the same time feeling the lack of a third?'

'Well, for now, let's focus on what we can fix,' Nadia says.

'Your aim, for starters,' you suggest. Alina gives you a look and scoffs. You all go back.

'As leader of the Second Army, I need more,' she says. Ah, yes. You had a dinner with the Lantsov family (you were so not happy they've arrived). During that Nikolai announced he and Alina are engaged (yeah, because you didn't see how she and Mal look at each other) and that from now on she's the leader of the Second Army. Not everyone was happy about it (ekhm, Zoya).

'I need to learn the Cut,' Alina says, turning to you. You stiffen.

'That was Kirigan's way, to lead with fear,' Nadia protests. 'You can lead with your heart. The Second Army will be better for it.'

'You make a good point,' Tamar agrees. 'But I wouldn't completely reject fear. Can't tell you how many have taken one look at my girls and… reconsidered. I don't know how the Cut works, that's a top-shelf Etherialki move, but I do know how to direct power. It's all about intention. I like to picture the face of the person I want to crush. Try it.'

Alina positions herself and exhales. She closes her eyes. Soon light surrounds her. A moment later she grunts angrily, waves her hands and light shots forward. You all look at the effect with wide eyes.

'Well, it's not the Cut, but… it's effective,' Tamar laughs. Nadia suddenly straightens up.

'Wait a moment,' she says. 'We do have here someone who's managed the Cut.'

She and Alina look at you. Tamar looks at you, impressed. You gulp.

'Once,' you say. 'I did it once. And I have no idea how. I… didn't exactly plan it.'

'Well, what did you think about then?' Tamar asks and you stiffen. 'What did you feel?'

You see in your mind Aleksander and Alina talking together, laughing. You remember the pain and hurt you felt. You were so overwhelmed you just had to let it go. And slashed the dummy.

'Anger,' you finally answer. 'I felt anger. The kind that was killing me.'

Before anyone can ask you more, you hear footsteps. You turn and see Adrik, Nadia's brother.

'I know, not to be disturbed, but they need you in the war room,' he says to Alina. She nods and looks at others. Tamar and Nadia turn and start walking. Alina grabs her jacket and follows them. But then she notices you're not following.

'[Y/N]?' she asks. You shake your head.

'My presence will not be welcomed there,' you say and smile. 'Go without me.'

Alina hesitates, but eventually nods and leaves. Adrik is behind her. You turn to look at the dummy the Sun Summoner hit. It has a hole coming from the arm to the stomach. Almost like the Cut.

You leave a few minutes later. You take a few turns, heading toward your room, when…

'David,' you say, surprised. David with his hands spread is being led by Tolya (a Heartrender and Tamar's twin) somewhere. They stop, hearing your voice. The Durast's eyes go wide.

'[Y/N],' he says and goes pale. 'Oh, Saints, you're here…'

'Why are you…?' you start but then remember. David was the one who made the collar for Alina. They don't trust him here.

'Come,' Tolya says and continues to take David away. You're left there, stunned and shocked. You can't believe your dear friend is here. And that he is a prisoner, while you walk free…

Later you come across Alina on the corridor. She smiles at you. You look at her, troubled.

'I need to ask you a favour,' you say.

'Anything,' Alina says at once. You gulp.

'I need to see David,' you say. Alina blinks.

'And you need me for…?' she asks. You sigh.

'For getting through the door,' you say. 'Alina, just because you trust me, doesn't mean others do. Please. I need to know if he's okay.'

Alina nods and walks with you to Nikolai. The prince isn't happy but he grants you your request. A moment later you enter David's cell. Alone.

'[Y/N],' he says, straightening up at the sight of you. You smile.

'How are you, David?' you ask.

'I'm… fine, thank you,' he answers. You frown. He's terribly stiff.

'And not exactly thrilled to see me,' you point out. David sighs.

'Forgive me,' he asks. 'Of course, I'm happy to see you. But if he finds out you're here…'

'Who?' you ask, blinking. David stares at you. He stares at you with disbelief, when he sees you're not fooling around.

'You… you don't know?' he asks.

'About?' you ask, confused. David shifts, uncomfortable. He doesn't know if he should say it. But you won't let it go, he just knows it.

'Kirigan is alive,' he finally says quietly. You stumble back and hit a table with your back. You stare at David, shocked.

'No,' you say, your lip trembling. 'You're lying. He can't be.'

'I would never lie to you about this,' David says softly. You stare at him. And see no deception in his eyes. He's telling the truth.

You bring hands to your mouth and let out a sob. You close your eyes and cry. You cry for the first time since the raid. These are tears of anger, sadness, pain, sorrow… and joy.

'How?' you whisper, looking at David again. 'How did he survive?'

'He created something in the Fold,' he answers, wincing. 'Creatures made of shadow. I guess they helped him. But he… he paid a big price for it.'

'What price?' you demand.

'He's troubled by coughs, headaches, pain,' David answers. 'I… I fear only merzost could cure him.'

Your heart aches. You don't know how you feel about all that.

'[Y/N]… that necklace I gave you… where is it?' David asks. Your heart speeds up.

'I don't know,' you lie. 'I lost it when the Little Palace was attacked.'

'Are you sure?' David asks. 'Because if even by accident you call him… he will come here at once for you.'

'Me?' you ask, raising your eyebrows. The Durast looks at you. He hesitates again.

'The priority for him and his Grisha is finding you,' he finally says. 'He… Every day with no news about you is making him more agitated. He insists that he needs you by his side. He more or less admitted that there was something going on between you two.'

You're quiet. You shake your head.

'I'm not the one he needs,' you deny and leave. You stop a few turns later. Your hand reaches to the hidden necklace under your kefta. You stop your hand mid-air. You shake your head and resume walking. You must let go of Aleksander. For your sake. And for others'.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could.

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49965037/chapters/126151432

[foundtherightwords]

The Firebird - Chapter 6

Pairing: Prince Paul (Catherine the Great) x OFC, Fairytale AU

Summary: When Paul, a spoiled young prince, spots a strange bird in the forest near his palace, he impulsively chases after it, hoping to both escape from and prove himself to his disapproving mother. Thus he is plunged into an exhilarating adventure across a magical realm populated by enchanted princesses, dangerous monsters, and powerful wizards, an adventure that may change him more than he can ever imagine.

Chapter warning: none

Chapter word count: 3.4k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

Chapter 6 - The Tsar's Quest

At close quarters, Tsar Afron's castle was as sumptuous as it was from afar. Though it was constructed of wood like the rest of the town, the carvings were a lot more intricate, draping like lace along the roofs, running down columns and banisters, surrounding windows and doors like decorations on a marzipan cake, and painted so they stood out against the rich brown log walls and shone even in the twilight. Every roof peak was topped with a gilded weathervane or an ornament in the shape of a horse. The inside was even more resplendent, with walls and ceilings painted in the brightest shades or covered in the richest tapestries, all illuminated by the light from hundreds of gold chandeliers. And everywhere was the image of horses, in every configuration and pose, carved into the wood or painted in gold. Paul, used as he was to the splendor of the palaces of Saint Petersburg, had to remember to close his mouth lest he drooled at all this opulence and looked even more like a fool than he already did.

Not that he had much of a chance to take it in. After Zhara's demonstration on the pasture, the soldiers wasted no time bringing them to Tsar Afron, and now he had to scurry to keep up with their long strides down the many corridors of the castle. To make things worse, the soldiers had been too frightened to rebind Zhara's hands, but had neglected to untie him, so he was forced to march with his hands behind his back like a common criminal. He didn't dare complain. He could feel Zhara's anger coming off her like a heat wave, and he was afraid that wave would burn him to a crisp on the spot if he so much as opened his mouth.

He had been a fool, he knew. Yes, he could try to blame Zhara for not trying harder to warn him, or even blame the horse for moving toward him first, but at the end of the day, he was the one that had decided to steal the horse. He was the one that had gotten them into this mess. Somehow, in this strange land with its strange, bewildering rules, Paul was finding it increasingly difficult to ignore his own fault.

The commander stopped in front of a door covered in so much carving and gilding that it hurt Paul's eyes, and instructed them to wait. Zhara seemed to have simmered down a little, so Paul cleared his throat and turned to her, hoping to get back into her good graces with something he'd never uttered—an apology. "Listen, I'm—"

"No, you listen," she interrupted, a finger pressed into his chest, hot enough to burn through his shirt. "Once we are in front of the tsar, do not speak. Do not make a sound. I don't want to hear so much as a peep from you. I shall handle the talking, and if you still wish to see your precious Rus' again, you shall follow my lead. Do you understand?"

Paul was quite certain his shirt was starting to smoke and scorch. There was nothing else he could do but nod. At that moment, the door opened, and they were ushered into the throne room. It was more magnificent than the rest of the castle combined, all crimson walls painted with gold vines, gilded window frames, and, on a raised platform, framed by a red velvet tapestry, stood a pure gold throne flanked by two gold horses, where Tsar Afron was seated.

For all the equine imagery around the castle, Paul had expected the tsar to be something of a Tartar, but the man he saw was rather weedy and colorless, with pale skin, thin hair of an indeterminate shade, a downturned mouth that gave him the look of a sulky child, and eyes that were watery blue under one light and gray under another. Those eyes squinted inquisitively as Paul and Zhara were led into the room. Zhara dropped a curtsey. Paul, following her lead, sketched an awkward bow.

"Lady Zhara," Afron said in a wheezing voice. "Forgive me this rather unfortunate welcome, but I was told that you were a fugitive..."

"No, my lord, it is I that must beg forgiveness," Zhara said. "What you heard is not true"—and here she gave a brief summary of the story she'd told Paul and of their goal to find Baba Yaga. "We were on our way to ask for your help," she continued, "but my—companion here was worried that the horse would not take to us and decided to introduce himself." That was a rather clever way of explaining their presence in the pasture without admitting that they had been trying to steal the horse. "It was an honest mistake. We never meant to disrespect you."

Afron let out a deep sigh. "I, too, have heard disturbing reports from Arthania that match your story," he said. "Had you come to me first, I would have done my utmost to help you put an end to your brother's reign of terror." Paul could feel Zhara's glare boring a hole into the side of his head, and he hung his head in shame.

"But," the tsar continued, "the truth of the matter is, you did disrespect me, by entering my land and putting your hand on my most valuable property without permission. These trespasses ought to be severely punished."

Paul wanted to shout, The horse touched me first!, but he remembered Zhara's warning and kept his mouth shut.

"However, out of respect for your late honorable father, I shall excuse you, if you perform a certain service for me." The tsar said this in an oily voice that reminded Paul of the way the soldiers had leered at Zhara, causing him to bristle. Well, if Afron insisted on behaving the same way as his men, then Paul would have to speak up, regardless of Zhara's wrath. He would allow no one to talk to a lady that way.

Zhara asked warily, "And what service would that be, my lord?"

"Bring me back Tsarevna Elena the Fair."

Afron's request didn't come as a complete surprise to Paul. It was how it happened in the tale. The question was, did it happen this way because it was in the tale, or because he, knowing the tale, had inadvertently caused it to happen...? It hurt his head to think about it, so Paul stopped thinking about it.

Zhara frowned. "Tsarevna Elena of Bryansk, you mean?"

"Do you know of any other tsarevna of the same name?" Afron replied, his eyes turning dreamy as he looked at a spot somewhere in the distance. "For so long I have loved her with my whole body and soul, but her mother, Tsarina Kostroma, is proud and rejects my suit. The Horse with the Golden Mane will be yours, if you can bring me Elena's hand in marriage."

The lustful look on the tsar's face made Paul feel quite sick, and he saw Zhara's lips curl in barely concealed distaste. Then she set her mouth in a resigned line. "As you wish, my lord," she said, inclining her head. "If you would be so kind as to provide us with some supplies, we shall be on our way presently."

"Presently?" Afron said, surprised. Paul glanced at Zhara in dismay. It had been several long days, and he was rather hoping for some rest and proper food. Well, he supposed he should have thought of that before deciding to steal the horse.

"Time is of the essence, my lord," Zhara said. "We cannot delay."

"Very well," Afron said. "I shall have my servants prepare for your trip."

He clapped, and a string of servants appeared to replace the soldiers in leading Paul and Zhara out. Once they were safely away, Paul held Zhara back, out of the servants' earshot.

"What's the rush?" he asked. "I would've liked to sleep in a bed for one night at least."

"You don't deserve to sleep in a bed," she hissed, not looking at him. "You deserve to rot in Afron's dungeon!"

"Fine, leave me here then! I'm done trailing after you!"

"Perhaps I should."

She sounded rather serious, which made Paul stop short in his track. He hadn't considered the possibility that she might really leave him, and it filled him with trepidation. She was the only one who knew he was a stranger in this world; what would happen if he angered a leshy or a rusalka or one of the many strange creatures that roamed this land and she wasn't there to warn or shield him?

"You're not going to, are you?" he said plaintively. "I know I should have listened to you..."

She turned and examined his sheepish face for a moment or two, her eyes softening.

"Well, I guess someone ought to keep an eye on you," she said. Paul gave her an uncertain smile, which, strangely enough, seemed to fluster her. "Just so you wouldn't wander around trying to be a hero!" she snapped, before turning and following the servants down the corridor.

Despite Zhara's refusal to stay the night, Afron still insisted on treating them as honored guests. Paul soon found himself luxuriating in a hot bath in the tsar's personal bathhouse. It was heavenly, except for a startling moment when he again caught a glimpse of another green-skinned creature covered in birch leaves, but it quickly disappeared. He then had his shoulder wound redressed with some sort of herbal poultice and was given a new suit of clothes in the old style, before Peter the Great introduced European fashion to Russia, made of the finest fabric and beautifully embroidered. His own clothes were cleaned, and even his wig was carefully brushed and set aside for him. Paul hesitated to put it back on—it did not go with the old-fashioned clothes, making him look like the Fool of his mother's court—but he felt naked without it, so he wore it anyway.

"Wow" was all Zhara uttered when he rejoined her outside the dining room. The bath seemed to have lifted her mood. She had changed into nicer clothes as well—a snow-white chemise, a red sarafan embroidered in gold, a gold headdress studded with pearls and rubies, and a string of coral beads around her slender neck. But for all the regal air they gave her, her sarcastic, impish grin remained the same.

"Stop it," Paul said sullenly, tugging at the upstanding collar of his shirt. "I look like an imbecile."

"No, you look like you would fit right in with the Lukomorians," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Even with that ridiculous wig." Her teasing only made Paul scowl and ram the wig more tightly onto his head, out of contrariness.

They entered the dining room and sat down to a scrumptious supper. It was nothing like the feasts that Paul was used to in his mother's court—the food was simpler and heartier—but the taste was incomparable. He was so busy stuffing his face that it took him a while to notice Afron was asking him something. He looked up, bewildered.

"I say, are you a knight at the court of the late Tsar Artyom?" the tsar said.

Paul gave Zhara a panicked look, not knowing how to answer.

"No," she smoothly interjected. "He's—a court jester."

"A court jester!" Afron exclaimed, looking rather offended at having to share his table with a fool. Paul, too, stared daggers at Zhara and opened his mouth to protest. She gave his leg a swift kick under the table.

"Yes, my father's favorite," she said. "And he has been most loyal and attentive to me since my flight from Arthania, so I thank you, my lord, for rewarding him with your kindness and generosity."

Afron's thunderous expression dissipated, and once more, Paul had to reluctantly admit that Zhara's quick wit had saved them.

"That explains his outlandish dress and manners then," Afron said. "But, my lady, will you be safe traveling with a jester as your only companion? I am quite worried for your safety."

Though clearly not worried enough to offer your soldiers as protection, Paul noted.

"Oh no, I trust him with my life," Zhara was quick to say. Paul glanced at her to see if she was speaking in earnest or not, but her face was turned toward the tsar, and her side profile gave nothing away. He looked down again, feeling rather hollow. It was likely that she said that simply to avoid raising Afron's suspicion.

After supper, Zhara insisted on departing right away. Afron saw them to the castle's front door, where their mounts and supplies were waiting. Upon seeing the animals, Paul almost shouted out in indignation and had to bite his tongue to keep quiet. Zhara, who seemed to see nothing wrong with them, curtseyed to Afron, thanked him, and promised to return soon with Elena the Fair's hand in marriage. They then mounted the animals and rode out of the fortress, under the light of a full moon.

It was only when they had gone far enough that Paul made his displeasure known.

"Donkeys!" he exclaimed. "I bet he has a stable full of horses, and he gave us two donkeys! What a miserly little—"

"Donkeys are perfectly good animals," Zhara said calmly. "Besides, horses are no good for us where we're going."

That sounded ominous. "Why? Where are we going?"

"There." She nodded toward the mountain range in the distance. "Perun's Crown." Paul had only given it a passing glance that afternoon, and now, his stomach dropped to see how far it spread out, a veritable wall of silver and crystal under the moonlight, stretching as far as the eyes could see, with peaks so high they were lost in the clouds, and so steep they were like knives cutting through the night sky.

"Elena the Fair lives up those mountains?" Paul asked, his voice coming out squeakier than he'd intended.

"No, don't be silly. Her kingdom is behind those mountains. But the quickest way is to go through them. And these donkeys are experts in crossing mountains. So stop your complaining and keep up."

***

It took them three days to reach the mountains. By the second day, Paul realized that Zhara had been right about the donkeys. The ground was becoming rougher, with almost no discernible path, yet the donkeys picked their way through the rocks as surefooted as walking through a level field.

Though Zhara still took care to hide under Paul's cloak during the day, they met very few people on their way. During the first two days, they traveled with some convoys of merchants, but one by one, these convoys all turned right as they neared the mountains and followed the river instead, and they were on their own.

"It may be easier traveling along the river, but for us, it is safer this way," Zhara said when they stopped on the second night by a rock outcrop, the mountains looming above them like some giant, ancient god. "We don't want to draw more attention to ourselves than we already have." She had changed out of her finery and was back into a coarse linen chemise and dark blue sarafan.

"Do you think your brother is tracking you?" Paul asked.

"I don't know. He may use the victims he has transformed into animals, like poor Alyosha, but that takes a lot of strength from him, so he is going to focus on protecting his death. He knows he only has to bide his time; I shall have to confront him sooner or later." She wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them close to her body, her eyes fixed on their fire. "Besides, I wasn't just talking about me." She nodded at Paul meaningfully. "I didn't wish to stay at Tsar Afron's castle for longer than necessary because I didn't want him to start asking about you."

That reminded Paul of a question that had been bothering him for some time. "About that—how come you know I'm from Rus, but others don't?"

"Those of us with magic in our blood can always tell," she replied. "I don't know how to explain it—we simply know. Be thankful that the rest of Lukomorye do not have such ability."

"Is that... bad?"

"Anything from Rus' is a great curiosity here. If they knew who you are, they would descend on you like a pack of wolves. How would you like to be paraded around like some exotic creature, to be ogled at?" She smiled at Paul's horrified look. "I suppose it would be the same if I ended up in your world."

"It might be worse," he said. "You might be burned as a witch, even though that practice had been outlawed for a century now." Now it was his turn to grin at her.

Zhara laid her head on her knees and regarded him with interest. "What is it like, your world?" she asked.

Paul thought about it for a while. "It's—like here, but different," he said lamely. He did not know how to put into words the otherworldly feeling that constantly coursed through him ever since he set foot in this land. "The trees, the mountains, the river, even the people... they're all similar, but back in my world, they're more—dull, solid, while here, there is this air about them... I can't describe it. It's the same with how you can tell me from a Lukomorian, I suppose. It's—"

"—magic?" Zhara prompted.

It wasn't quite what he had in mind, but it would have to do. "Yes, magic," he agreed. A strange little smile flitted across Zhara's face. She said nothing more and went back to watching the flames.     

They arrived at the foot of the mountains on the third day. There was a stone-built shelter there, and Paul and Zhara found themselves in the company of an old man, who said his name was Simeon, and that he was placed there to aid travelers in their crossing. He gave the donkeys some hay and stoked the fire to make tea, while Zhara opened the supplies Afron had given them and shared their food with him.

"It's been months, nay, close to a year, since I had anyone passing through," Simeon said, biting into a hunk of cheese with relish. "They all follow the river these days. Even large groups avoid the mountains. It's odd that you two would take this route..."

"My mother lives in Bryansk," Zhara said. "She is very sick, and I must go to her as soon as possible." This was the story she and Paul had agreed on, should they meet another traveler.

"Well, you're traveling light, so I suppose you don't have much to worry about—except for those two donkeys—" The old man considered their packs and clothes with the eye of an expert.

"Worry about what?" Paul asked.

"Who, my lad, worry about who," Simeon corrected him. "Nightingale the Robber. You have heard of him, yes?"

Paul wracked his brain for the old stories. "The one with the deadly whistle?" he asked.

"The very one. He has staked out these mountains as his own. His nest is on Perun's Peak, and he perches there, whistling down mountain passes, blowing men and animals against the rock. Many merchants have had their entire stock of goods and their animals taken, so now they just avoid these mountains altogether. And even then, those that stray a little too close to them may still be in danger."

Paul looked at Zhara and met her worried returning glance.

"Perhaps we should—" he began, but she shook her head.

"No," she said firmly. "It's going to take months to go around, and who knows what my—what might have happened to my mother by then." She glared at Paul briefly, giving him a silent warning to say no more.

Later, after Zhara had settled down on the narrow bed in a corner of the hut, Simeon clapped Paul on the shoulder. "Listen to your missus, my lad," the old man said. Paul's cheeks flamed. Though he and Zhara had agreed to pose as husband and wife, the idea still made him feel oddly shy. "I know you're worried about Nightingale, but trust me, having a wife and a mother-in-law angry with you is worse," Simeon continued in a friendly tone. "Why do you think I stay out here in this stone hut even when there's no traveler?" Chuckling, the old man climbed on the stove to sleep, leaving Paul to make himself comfortable by the fire.

Chapter 7

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